Storiesonline.net
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                             Arlene and Jeff
                             by RoustWriter

Copyright© 2006 by RoustWriter


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Description: While Jeff is away finalizing the sale of his invention, a local bully coerces Jeff's wife and daughter into having sex. Jeff has to put his family back together and clean up the situation with the bully, while at the same time, moving to a retreat that they are converting to an enormous home, high in the Rocky Mountains. He has to juggle keeping his family going, while protecting the secret of the healer, and where it came from.  Smoking fetish.

Codes: MF Mf FF Ff cons rom coer Blkm het ScFi ESP inc mother fath dau span group harem 1st oral lac size slow
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Book 1

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Chapter 1

Note: The first four chapters of this long story set the stage for the rest. These first chapters have a lot of sex, and even a fetish in them. I could probably label them as stroke. But if they do not please you, please read on, or just scan through them enough to know what's going on, for when Jeff comes on the scene, the story really begins. As he puts his family back together, sells his invention, and moves to the Retreat high in the Colorado Rockies, the story and the plot commence. A number of my readers have told me that they almost quit during the first three chapters, but were extremely glad that they continued reading, because they eventually loved the story. As of 07/10/2012, Arlene and Jeff has exceeded 1.7 million words with more than 1.2 million total downloads, and I have many more chapters to write. I post a chapter per week on Saturday mornings, and will continue to do so until my e-mails quit, there is a catastrophic event in my life, or I finish the story – hopefully the last choice. Although the text has been edited several times, an occasional typo remains – as it sometimes does in long works. If you happen to see one, and would like to, copy and paste the sentence the error is in, and e-mail it to me. I will correct it, and I will certainly appreciate your calling my attention to it. I'm just an old man who loves to write. If you like my story, tell me. If you don't like my story, tell me what is wrong so that I can get better. I hope you enjoy Arlene and Jeff.

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Arlene's mother had finally stopped in to say good night. As soon as she was gone and the door was shut, Arlene got out of bed and quietly raised the window. Her bedroom was on the bottom level of the tri-level house and her window was even with the ground outside, facing the back lawn and pool. All she had on was her nightie and panties as she parted the curtains, slipped through, and quietly lowered the window behind her.

In the near darkness, she made her way until she was on the opposite side of the pool. As she crossed the three-foot-high wall that separated the pool area from the lower level of the back yard, her eyes began to adjust to the moonlight.

"Arnie, are you here?" she called, louder than she meant to.

"Shhhh," Arnie said, stepping from behind a shrub. "You're late."

"I thought my mother would never come by to check on me. I guess she and Dad were making love, or something," she said in a lower voice. "But, Dad is supposed to leave early in the morning, so maybe I can get out sooner tomorrow night."

Arnie shrugged, "That's okay about being late. It wasn't your fault. Come over and sit by me," he said, taking her hand. "Your dad is gone a lot, maybe he and your mom were making up for lost time," he grinned.

Arlene did as he told her, and they sank to the grass where Arnie had spread a blanket for them. They had spent a lot of time here late at night, necking, talking about love, and making plans to, one day, get married. He told her how much he loved her, and nuzzled her neck as she settled back onto the blanket. They kissed as his hand stroked her side near her breast. Tantalizing her, he touched more of the firm breast until he was running his fingertip across her aroused nipple. After a few minutes, Arlene squeezed his arm and shivered as her orgasm crashed through her pussy. She sighed as he pushed the nightie up and lifted it over her head. Her breasts rose as she held her arms up in order for him to slip the garment completely off. Sitting up slightly, she shook out her waist-length mop of beautiful brunette hair with its intense auburn highlights, then offered her long breasts for Arnie to kiss. Obliging her, he lowered his mouth to her left breast, licking and sucking the nipple. Her breathing picked up again and she shuddered beneath him.

As she quieted, Arnie pushed his shorts off and put her hand on his dick. Having done this before, the young virgin dutifully stroked his cock, jacking him off. Arnie continued to suck her breast, rolling his tongue around the inflated nipple, building her toward another orgasm.

As she pumped the boy's cock, exciting her almost as much as it did him, there was a sound. Both jerked upright, breathing heavily, as a voice from a figure standing only a few feet away asked in a mocking tone, "Now, what do we have here?" drawing the words out, making them a verbal leer.

Before the boy or girl could move, the person squatted beside them and inspected Arlene's breasts. "Not bad, little girl. Not bad."

Arlene was so scared that she didn't even think to cover herself. Arnie found his voice, "What're you doing here, Jack?" Arnie demanded of the nineteen-year-old boy who lived a few blocks away. "Nobody told you to come over," Arnie added, trying to make his words sound firm, but the tremble in his voice ruined the effect.

Rocking back on his heels, the older boy sneered back at Arnie. "Don't get feisty now, Wimp, if I tell your folks what you two have been doing, there'll be hell to pay."

Arlene realized that she was still holding Arnie's dick. She snatched her hand away, but the cock bobbed before her as if to emphasize Jack's words.

"You wouldn't tell anyone, would you?" Arlene pleaded, trying to cover her breasts with one arm while she reached out with the other hand to touch Jack, imploringly.

"Ah, I could probably be persuaded not to," Jack said, as he pushed her arm aside and placed a hand on her left breast.

Arnie grabbed Jack's hand. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, struggling with Jack.

Jack wouldn't move his hand away. "Get your hand off me, Arnie, or I'll go and knock on Arlene's back door."

"You wouldn't dare," Arlene said, twisting out of Jack's grasp.

Jack grabbed for the other breast and caressed the long nipple between his fingers. "If you pull away again, I'll show you, Bitch. I even have pictures of you two making out in your cute little way," he sneered, as he rolled the nipple back and forth. "My digital has an infrared setting so I can take pictures at night." Relinquishing the nipple, he reached into his shirt pocket and withdrawing a picture, handed it to Arnie. "Don't bother tearing it up. I can print as many as I want."

Arnie and Arlene stared at the picture. Even in the moonlight, it was evident that Jack hadn't been lying. The picture had little color, and had a green cast, but it was quite clear. Jack returned to nipple squeezing.

Tears slid down Arlene's cheeks as she pushed at Jack's hands. Her voice quivered. "Arnie, my mother will kill me. And my dad will kill you,  if they see that picture."

"Yeah," was all Arnie could think of to say as he stared at the picture of Arlene jerking him off while he sucked her nipple.

By this time, Jack had both nipples in his hands and was squeezing and pulling on them. Arlene pushed at his hands, still crying, but was afraid to make too much fuss for fear he would tell her parents like he said.

As the boy and girl tried to make up their minds what to do, Jack said, "Look, all I want is a little pussy and I'll be on my way. You two love birds can do it for the rest of your lives for all I care," he added in a mocking tone.

Arlene whimpered.

"You're crazy, Jack," Arnie hissed. "She's a virgin, and my girl. Where do you come off talking like that?"

Jack nodded toward Arlene as he put a hand on his crotch and massaged the bulge there. "Look, Dummy, this little bitch is ready for a cherry popping – something you should have done long ago. Since you didn't, ol' Jack will take care of that little chore for you." He put both hands back on Arlene and milked her nipples.

"Quit that, Jack," Arnie hissed, as he and Arlene both shoved at Jack.

Jack backhanded the smaller boy and returned to his milking. "If you touch me again, I'll go tell her parents what you two have been doing. And,  I'll beat the shit out of both of you every time I see you. You won't get a chance to suck on her tits after I tell her folks, or see her either, for that matter," Jack warned, "not to mention getting both of your asses beat on a regular basis."

Arnie didn't know what to do. Jack's fist had hit him in the mouth, and it felt like his lip was swelling. He took Arlene in his arms, trying to console her as best he could while Jack continued to pull on her nipples. Arlene reached her face up to Arnie as he kissed her. Panting slightly and half-crying, she clung to him and returned the kiss, then, after a few moments, shivered as Jack brought her off.

Arnie broke the kiss, dumfounded. "Arlene, you came for him," he accused.

"I ... didn't mean to," she answered, stammering, appalled at herself. "I'm just so scared."

Jack continued to milk Arlene with one hand as he shoved his left hand inside her panties. She grabbed his hand as Arnie, not realizing what was happening and still mad about her coming, pulled back from her.

"I didn't mean to, Arnie, I was kissing you, and he wouldn't stop pulling on my nipples. It just kind of happened. But he's got his hand on me," she said, her voice rising.

It took Arnie a second to realize what she meant, but when he saw where Jack's hand was, he exploded. "Get your hand off her," he railed at Jack, but he was afraid to touch Jack, worried that the bigger boy would really beat his ass. "She's mine. We're in love and were saving going all the way until we get married," he pleaded, his eyes riveted to the sight of Jack's hand on Arlene's crotch.

Jack laughed as he continued massaging the brunette's clit while he milked her nipple with the other hand. Starting with his hand well up on her long breast, he squeezed and pulled his fingers down until he milked her all the way to the end of the swollen nipple. "I either have my cock crammed in her up to my balls within the next few minutes, or I'll knock on her door and give the picture to her parents. Now make up your mind, Brat," he finished, glancing at Arnie.

Arlene whimpered, "What're we going to do?" she wailed. "I don't want him to put his thing in me. I want to save that for you for when we get married."

"You won't ever marry him," Jack sneered, as he continued rubbing her clit and milking her breast, "if I don't get to put my cock in your pussy. I'll tell your folks what you two have been up to, and they'll lock you in that house forever. You won't ever get to jerk off Prettyboy again."

Arlene and Arnie both knew he was right. They would never get to see each other again.

Seeing their indecision, Jack pushed Arlene back on the blanket and resumed his nipple massage. Arlene's nipples were longer than Arnie had ever seen them. Jack switched breasts and started milking the other one, one hand still busy on her clit. Arnie realized that Arlene was breathing hard again.

"Don't you come for him again, " he admonished.

"I can't help it, Arnie. Make him stop," she whispered.

Before Arnie could say anything, Jack interrupted. "Why don't you kiss her, and I'll pop her cherry while you two love birds are frenching?" his hands continuing to massage her clit and milk her breast.

Arlene bowed her body up, moaned, and shuddered.

Jack laughed, "Well, look at this," he said, as she shivered out her orgasm. There was moisture leaking from the nipple he was pulling on. "The girl gives milk."

"Leave her alone, Jack. She does that sometimes when she gets excited. She's been doing it more lately. But, it's our thing; you don't have any right to make her do that," Arnie said, inanely.

Arlene whimpered and shivered again, then relaxed as her orgasm tapered off. Jack milked her long breast in earnest, stripping the nipple between his fingers, trying to make her milk squirt.

"Oh," she said, and flinched as he milked too hard. "Stop, Jack. That hurts." After a moment, she added, "I can't help it. My mother always has milk in her breasts; she told me she had it even before she became pregnant with me. I guess I got it from her."

"Baby, I'm not making fun of you," he answered, stroking her breast, but not pulling so hard. "I've always wanted to fuck a girl that had milk in her tits."

Arnie, mumbled, "You can't fuck Arlene. Go fuck somebody else," but Jack didn't pay any attention, instead, he held her breast in his hand as he leaned over and licked the nipple. Arlene caught her breath and trembled. Arnie wanted to push Jack away; sucking her breasts was something special between Arlene and himself, and only he had tasted Arlene's milk before. He hadn't wanted Jack to find out about Arlene's special thing, but he had. Arnie felt sick all over again. Jack didn't care though, he just kept sucking and milking her breast until Arlene bucked and shuddered. When she was at the height of her orgasm, he released her breast to sway and bob as he shoved his pants down, freeing his cock to wave in front of them as he resumed his pussy massage and breast milking.

Arnie couldn't stand it any longer. Jack's bigger cock sticking out for all to see, brought home that he was very close to fucking Arlene – it was really going to happen. Arnie's heart about to break, the smaller boy tried to push Jack back from the little brunette. "Don't you push at me little boy, I'll get up from here and tell her folks. I can go down the street and get all the pussy I want."

Jack slid Arlene's panties off, with her pulling at his hands, trying ineffectually to stop him, Arnie protesting. "Look at that little pussy," the larger boy said, eying the sparsely covered mound. Her pussy lips, puckered and sticking out in a little round "O," glistened with moisture in the moonlight.

Jack pushed Arlene's legs apart and prepared to mount her, semi-kneeling between her legs, propping himself on one elbow.

"Get away from her," Arnie whimpered, but was afraid to do anything to Jack, who glared at him.

Jack put his hand back on Arlene's pussy, forcing her hands away as she tried to resist him. "I'm tired of this crap. It's time for the fucking, and if you want to be a part of it, you can put my dick in for me," he said to Arnie with a sneer.

"You're crazy, Jack," Arnie said, beginning to pant. He could see Arlene's pussy lips almost under Jack's balls. Just one ball was larger than both of Arnie's and his sack to boot.

"If you don't put my cock in her pussy, I'm going to ram all the way in – all in one stroke. Look at my cock little girl," he said to Arlene, "and tell your boyfriend to do it my way, or you won't be able to walk for a week."

Arlene was looking all right, wide-eyed, but she just shivered and continued to quietly cry. Jack slid his finger up and down her pussy lips and sucked on her left breast. Arlene again shivered.

"Don't come for him, Baby," Arnie pleaded, as Arlene rhythmically moved her hips, her pert little pussy sliding up and down Jack's finger, trying vainly to clasp onto it.

"Put it in her now, idiot, she's about ready to come," Jack said to Arnie. "Now's the best time; it won't hurt her as much." When the younger boy didn't comply, Jack said in a cold voice, "Either you put my cock in now, or I'll go tell her parents. Make up your mind. I'm tired of this crap." Moving his face close to Arnie's, he commanded, "Now!"

The younger boy whimpered, but grasped Jack's cock, anyway. Why was Jack humiliating him so? Jack was going to fuck Arlene, and make him help. I'm not a queer; I don't want to touch a guy's dick,  Arnie thought. But, Jack didn't care about what Arnie wanted. The big veins on Jack's cock throbbed in Arnie's hand as he grimaced and forced it down to the brunette's pussy lips. Jack's cock was so hard that it resisted being pushed down, trying to rear itself toward his belly. Arnie pushed down harder and guided the head to his darling's virgin pussy. He held back for a minute, until the older boy made a noise, then he pushed it the rest of the way down until the swollen head of the cock pushed into Arlene's pussy lips. Arnie was afraid that when he turned the cock loose, its upward pressure would hurt the shivering girl, since the cock was so hard and straining to stand up. Arnie could smell the fetid odor of Jack's unbathed balls as the older boy pushed forward, forcing the wet head into the virgin lips.

Jack pushed a little harder, spreading the tiny "O" outward. "Jack, you're too big," Arnie exclaimed, still holding onto the cock for fear that it would tear its way loose and hurt Arlene in the process.

Jack grunted and pushed a little more, the bloated head swelling the lips outward. Arlene shivered and waved her hands around, breathing in gasps, seemingly undecided where she should put her hands. She wound up putting them against Jack's chest and shoving half-heartedly as Jack worked his hips. Her pussy lips grew wetter with her moisture and his pre-come. "Don't take your hand off my cock, Little Boy, not until I've got it in her up to my balls," Jack warned as he pushed forward, spreading the lips more with his cockhead.

Arlene's voice quivered, "It's too big, Jack." Her breasts swayed on her chest as she panted, scared, but hotter than she had ever been in her life.

Jack, ignoring her, bore down more, and her breath caught as the cockhead wedged its way a little more, hitting her maidenhead. "Don't take your hand off my cock, or I'll ram in her," he sadistically said, enjoying browbeating the smaller boy, as Arnie started to move his hand away. Jack drew back, then pushed into her entrance again, his thick pre-come making her lips slick enough for the head to force its way slightly past her lips, again coming to rest against her hymen.

Arlene shivered violently, her ass rotating around the thick member as she got her cookies again. Jack drew back and slowly shoved in a little more, increasing the pressure against her hymen. She whimpered and pushed against his shoulders as his cock pressed against her maidenhead, its flimsy barrier vainly trying to protect the entrance to her vagina. Arlene's breath came in gasps.

"No, Jack," she panted, her voice straining as the pressure built on her hymen.

Arnie rubbed his own cock. He was both inflamed by desire and sick because the bigger boy was fucking Arlene. Why was this happening? How had they gotten themselves into this mess? He frantically tried to think of something to do before Jack's cock tore into his darling, but nothing would come to mind. Jack was going to do it, and nothing Arnie could do would make Jack stop. Even if Arnie called for help, he knew Jack would just ram into Arlene the way he had threatened. No matter what happened, if Arlene's parents found out, they would never let him see her again.

Sick to heart, jealous and hurt because of the way Arlene had responded to Jack and his cock, but unable to do anything, Arnie just stared at the glistening rod as it slid slowly back, then eased forward until it bumped her hymen again. Jack placed Arlene's hands on her long breasts, and told her to hold them, while he sucked on her left nipple, drinking her milk that she had before only given to Arnie. Jack continued sucking her with his cock pushed firmly against her maidenhead, the brunette panting and slowly wiggling her ass. Taking his mouth off her jutting nipple, wet with her milk, he told Arnie. "Quit jacking off and put your other hand on her pussy and rub her clit."

Arnie was so hot and confused that he complied, thinking vaguely that he could, somehow, help to fuck her, himself taking, at least some part.

Jack again pressed down on the girl's cherry, stretching out the moment. Arlene's mouth opened slightly, her pouting lips forming an "O," like her pussy, as he put pressure on her barrier yet again. Her breasts jiggled as she caught her breath. "No, Jack," she hissed, trying to sit up, "That hurts." Jack eased up on the pressure, but pushed her back to the blanket.

Arnie's heart throbbed, "Don't pop her Jack. Please, don't pop her," he said repeatedly. "I want to do that. Please, don't pop her."

Jack didn't pay any attention to the distraught boy, but fucked his cock back and forth in the opening of her pussy. Arnie, without thinking, was trying to please Arlene by rubbing his finger on her little button.

"She's about ready," Jack said through gritted teeth to keep from shooting his load as Arlene's pussy lips fluttered against his cock. "I'm going to do it while she's coming the next time."

Arnie's breath caught in his throat; his heart throbbed. It should be him pushing up inside Arlene, not Jack. What could he do to stop this? While his mind frantically searched for some way to stop Jack, he kept mumbling, "Don't Jack. Don't Jack." Tears of frustration flowed down Arnie's cheeks as the older boy eased his cock in and out of Arlene. Arnie continued to masturbate his darling while Jack's cockhead pulled out to the very outer lips of the young girl's pussy, then forced the lips apart, like he did the first time, sliding his cockhead forward, he pushed firmly against her cherry. Arnie heard himself say, even as he masturbated her faster, "Don't come, Darling. If you do, he's going to shove it up you."

That was the last thing he should have said. Arlene gasped, her long breasts swaying and jiggling on her chest, then convulsed. Jack was holding firmly against her maidenhead as she shuddered below him, her mouth slightly open as her orgasm, the biggest one yet, hit. Arnie rubbed her clit frenziedly as she shivered again. Jack put his weight on his bone-hard, bloated rod. Arlene gasped, her orgasm shaking her, her pussy spasming and working to get Jack's cock inside it. As Jack gritted his teeth and pushed harder, her ass wiggling and squirming, she grunted an, "Uhhhhh," as his weight increased and her hymen stretched.

"Watch me." Jack said, "I'm going in." He bore down harder, her hymen broke and the fat cockhead pushed past. Arlene flinched, gave a little yelp, and bucked under him. "I'm making a woman out of her for you," Jack gasped, as the exquisite pressure of the tight, virgin pussy gripped his dick.

"Keep rubbing her clit," he said as he pushed deeper, the young girl, delirious with desire as the vile-smelling cock pried its way up her pussy. She pushed desperately at his chest, trying to stop the onslaught of his cock, but despite the pain, her orgasm peaked again and again. Her boyfriend, not only having to watch, but having to participate, was driving her crazy, not to mention what Jack's engorged rod was doing to her.

Arnie kept whispering, "No, no..."

"I'm going in," Jack said again as his rod slowly pushed up the struggling brunette. Arnie jerked his hand away, as Jack shoved in until his balls rested against her ass. "I'm in her," Jack said unnecessarily, as he strained hard against her, his cock deep inside her. He held in her for a moment, then eased back and forth an inch or so at a time before again holding tightly up Arlene. Her ass squirmed under him. After a moment, he pulled back a couple of inches and short-stroked her. His pace picked up, his breathing grew harsh.

Arlene's head was back, a strained look on her face, as she held her pussy up for Jack's dick, Arnie again rubbing his finger on her clit. Jack's rhythm grew ragged. He gave several short, rapid strokes, then rammed as deep into her pussy as he could. He held for a moment, then shivered and groaned. Arnie knew what was happening, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "No, Jack. Don't," he begged, but Jack's balls heaved. He bucked his ass forward, hard, twice. Then one more short stroke as he groaned again and gasped as he froze with his cock stuck up Arlene. As Jack started to get his rocks off, Arnie held his breath, knowing what was about to happen. The bloated cock expanded and jerked as sperm pumped through it. Arnie whimpered, the cock jerked again as gobs of thick spunk sprayed from the head and gushed into the brunette's pussy.

Arlene gasped when she felt the first spurt inside her virgin pussy, the obscene load pouring into her, washing against her cervix, and into her womb, whimpered, "Nooooo, I'm Arnie's girl."

Jack, not caring whose girl she was, intent only on getting his rocks off, drew back and hunched his ass forward again. "Uh ... Jack," she grunted as his cockhead geysered rut into her again. He hunched again. "Uh," she said, almost inaudibly, her orgasm peaking again and again. Her long nipples squirted fine streams of milk as she, unable to help herself, hunched her pussy up Jack's cock.

Arnie rubbed faster on her clit as Jack's cock jerked painfully in the brunette's tube and disgorged another gob of smelly seed, bathing her womb, while her breasts swayed and sprayed milk on Jack's chest and the blanket on either side of them.

Arnie could see multiple thin streams of milk spurting from Arlene's bouncing tits in time with Jack's jerking strokes. Arnie realized that his own skinny cock was spurting on its own without him even touching it. The three of us are coming together, he thought, fatuously.

When Jack's cock quit jerking, he didn't pull out of the brunette. Instead, he lengthened his strokes until he was pulling well back in Arlene's pussy, then sliding firmly up inside her, his balls slapping against her ass, her pussy coated with his slimy seed. The process created an obscene sound as air and sperm were forced around the junction of cock and pussy, coating their groins. Arlene panted and whimpered as the cock slid almost out of her, only to swell her tight tube again as Jack slowly pushed all the way back up her belly, accompanied by her delicate, whimpering, "Uh," as he shoved all the way in. He licked her nipples, milked her breasts with his hands, then sucked her as his pace increased.

"Noooo, Jack," she managed to say as her orgasm tapered off, then "Uh ... uh ... uh..." in time to his strokes as their groins slapped together.

"Rub her clit," Jack ordered Arnie, as the younger boy started to remove his hand. "I want you to feel me fucking her."

"Jack, I don't want to do this any more. We kept our bargain. You fucked her, now pull your thing out of her and leave us alone."

Jack, furious, hissed at the smaller boy, the bigger boy's cock still slowly pumping Arlene's pussy, "I still have the pictures, and if you don't do what I tell you to, I'll give them to her parents; you know I will. Now rub her clit. I'm going to make her come until her eyes cross, then I'm going to jackoff up her pussy some more."

Arnie didn't know what else to do, so he did what Jack told him – rubbed on Arlene's clit, while Jack's cock slid in an out. Jack gradually picked up speed. Arlene's whispered, "Uh ... uh ... uh..." as the older boy's cock slid up her pussy and hit bottom on each stroke. Her tits bobbing wildly, she turned her face toward Jack, as her hands again searched futilely for somewhere to be as the double ministrations of the two boys brought her closer to the biggest orgasm of her life.

Arnie felt sick as he watched Arlene shove her pussy up Jack's rod when the older boy hunched his hips forward, sending his cock tearing up her channel. She raised her legs, spread them wide, abruptly locking them around Jack's driving hips. Jack short-stroked her, his hips pistoning frantically, then groaned.

His rod thickened and bulged as he shifted his pace and rammed hard into the girl. She grunted louder this time, her pouting lips standing open as he lunged again and held, his groin locked against hers, Arnie continuing to frantically masturbate her.

Arlene whispered, "No, no, no, no," as Jack's body tensed and shivered, his balls heaved, his cock swelled then jerked again. Arlene caught her breath, then squealed as gobs of rut gushed from the end of his dick and flooded her tender pussy. "Uhhh ... uhhhh..." she said as each geyser of manseed gushed up her. Jack pulled back and rammed in again, his back arched, head back and mouth hanging open as his balls emptied.

The brunette grunted, kicked wildly, then clenched Jack's ass with her legs as she rammed her pussy against his groin, her tits spurting milk, swaying and jiggling as she squealed and worked her pussy up and down the spurting rod shoved so far up her belly. She shivered again as Jack slammed into her, then froze, his eyes closed, not appreciating her beauty as his cock jerked and spurted, jerked and spurted.

The fucking couple collapsed into an entwined, squirming tangle of arms and legs. Arnie saw sperm leaking past the plug stuck up his darling's pussy as Jack's rut was forced out of the girl's belly. Arnie pulled his hand from between their groins, and jacked himself off, his rut spraying on the ground, as his bride-to-be stared at the boy who had popped her cherry and filled her womb with his seed.

She shivered and sighed as Jack slowly rotated his ass, pulled back slightly and eased in, causing sperm to run out of her pussy. After a while, he grew still, just letting his cock soak inside the trembling girl. He lowered his mouth to Arnie's darling and kissed her, fucking his tongue in and out of her mouth, while sperm leaked from her, her long breasts still dripping milk, her legs splayed on the blanket. His cock softened as sperm oozed past her swollen vulva.

Arnie remembered the film they had watched in biology class, how sperm wiggled and darted in every direction, seeking an egg to fertilize. All he could think about was how much of Jack's stuff was inside Arlene right now, trying to find her egg.



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Chapter 2

Several nights after Jack had fucked Arlene, Arnie was late in getting out of the house. Arlene had agreed to dress up for him the way he liked — minidress, tight blouse and high spike heels. She had been letting Arnie fuck her every night since Jack had caught them, but they were careful to use a rubber. They hadn't seen Jack since the night he had taken Arlene's cherry, and they hoped he would stay away from them.

They had held each other after Jack had pulled his cock out of Arlene, donned his pants and walked away. Arlene had begged Arnie to forgive her for coming when Jack shot of in her pussy, vowing it would never happen again. Both realized that Jack could still tell on them any time he chose, and although they tried to convince themselves that they would never let it happen again, Arnie was scared that Jack would come back to fuck Arlene some more. But, there had been several nights of bliss now, without a sign of Jack.

Arnie hurried through the woods that bordered the back of their homes and provided a safe route to Arlene's without parents or neighbors seeing him. He imagined Arlene in his arms, kissing him, while she told him how much she loved him, as her tight pussy squeezed his cock.

He remembered the gobs of jackoff that had gushed out of her when Jack had pulled his cock out. Her pussy hair had been matted with the vile smelling rut. His seed had continued to leak out of her slit and run down the crack of her ass. When she stood and came into Arnie's arms, it squirted out onto her legs. They tried to wipe it off with the blanket, but the slimy rut just kept coming out of the embarrassed girl. They held each other and cried as it dribbled out of her onto the ground. Arnie's cock had remained standing straight out the whole time. Arlene finally put her hand on it and while they kissed, jacked him off, but his seed spurted out on the ground. She wouldn't let him put his dick in her, let alone come in her.

The next night, she did let him make love to her, but she had been sore from Jack's cock, plus she had insisted that Arnie wear a rubber. She came each time he got to make love to her, but when she did, she just shivered against him, she didn't buck and whine the way she had when Jack had come in her pussy.

Thinking about Arlene's luscious body, with her long breasts, and big nipples, already had him with a hard-on. He was going to suck Arlene's nipples, and try to get her to let him come inside her. After all, Jack had come in her twice; it wasn't right for him (Arnie) to not get to come in her at least once.

Nearing her back yard, he slowed, making sure that he didn't step on any twigs and cause enough racket to be overheard. As he came around the last big tree before Arlene's back yard, he stopped in his tracks. Though a bush obscured his view, he could see Arlene was leaning against the picnic table, just in the edge of the woods.

Jack had apparently interrupted her as she started to light a cigarette, because the long white cylinder was still dangling from her lips, unlit. At first, he thought she was just talking to Jack, but as he crept closer and his position changed, he was able to see that Arlene's blouse was unbuttoned and her breasts were jutting out, the nipples aroused.

With sinking heart, he realized that Jack had probably been pulling and sucking on them for quite a while. He would put a stop to this; Jack could just tell if he wanted too, but this wasn't going to progress into what it had last time. Then he heard Arlene's little feminine "Uh, uh, uhs," like she had made when Jack rammed his cock into her. "Nooo..." he whispered to himself as he understood what was happening. As he got to where he could see around the bush, he realized that Arlene's minidress was riding up around her hips. Jack was standing between her legs, knees bent, thrusting his pussy-wet cock deep into Arnie's darling.

"Uh, Jack. Uh, Jack. It's big. Ohhh, Jack. Uh, uh, uh ... it's hitting ... myyy wombbb."

Jack was fucking her again — Arlene had said she would never let him do that to her — ever. She had promised, over and over again as she had jacked Arnie off. She had said she would be his forever, and they would forget about Jack. Arnie felt sick to his stomach. He started to go charging over to them, but he hesitated. Jack needed his ass whipped, but Arnie knew that he could never do it. Jack would just beat the snot out of him, and fuck Arlene, anyway.

Arnie decided that he wouldn't embarrass himself by letting them know he was here. Begging wouldn't do any good — it certainly hadn't last time. Jack would just humiliate him, and fuck Arlene anyway. Tears in his eyes, Arnie continued to watch, his cock rock-hard in his pants.

Arlene's long cigarette bounced delicately in rhythm to Jack's thrusts. "Uh ... uh ... uh..." and the smack as their groins ramming together, was all Arnie could hear as his darling took Jack's cock up her pussy. Her long breasts swayed as Jack's rhythm picked up and his ass slammed his dick hard up Arlene's near virgin pussy.

Arnie stood beside the tree, heartbroken as Arlene braced her hands behind her on the picnic table, her legs widespread, as Jack bent his knees, leaning back slightly and thrust up the girl. Arnie could see Jack's oversized balls slapping against Arlene's pert ass as he drove his cock home in her pussy.

Arnie heard Arlene say, "I promised Arnie, uh ... that I wouldn't let, uh ... you do this to me again. Uh ... uh ... uh..." her voice muffled slightly as she continued to hold the cigarette in her lips, her breasts bouncing in time with Jack's thrusts. Jack shoved in hard and ground his ass around. "Uhhhhhh," she whimpered, then drew on the unlit cigarette for a moment, her cheeks hollowing as Jack rapid fucked her pussy.

"Arnie and I love each other, and ... uh ... I told him I wouldn't let you shoot off in me again," she gasped. "Uh ... uh ... uh ... Oh, stop. Arnie will be here any minute, uh ... uh ... uh." Jack slowed and thrust deep.

Suddenly, Arlene's voice went up. "Jack, I can feel it jerking. Don't you do it. Uh ... uh ... uh. Wait, Jack," she whimpered. "Don't shoot of in mmmeeeeeee..."

Jack hunched his slick cock up Arlene so hard and fast that he partially lifted her off her feet, her high spike heels scrabbling for purchase, her long breasts jiggling and bouncing as he rapid-fucked her.

"No, nnnnnnooooo, Jack." Then Jack slammed in and held, his jerking cock as far up her as he could push it. There was a low moan from the girl as she pushed ineffectually against his shoulders. "Nnnooooo, Jack ... don't. Your cock ... it's..."

Arnie saw Jack's balls heave, and a second later the girl grunted, moaned, drew on her cigarette, her breasts bouncing. She shivered, then rammed her pussy against Jack's jerking pole.

The first spurt was so strong that she felt like it almost raised her off the ground. Her nipples tingled as her womb spasmed when his hot seed splashed against it. She stood grasping his shoulders as he machine-gunned his spurting cock up her pussy — her channel squeezing, milking, begging for more. The girl uttered her delicate, little, "Uh, uh, uh, uhs," as Jack's seed continued pumping into her belly. Her orgasm peaked and held her there.

Unable to control herself, she squirmed her hole against Jack's crotch, grinding her clit against his jerking shaft. Arnie could hear the smack, smack, smack, as Jack rammed their groins together, her breasts wildly swaying as milk sprayed onto the boy fucking her.

Jack's thrust slowed, then stopped as he held his cock buried in Arlene. After a while, Arlene took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it prissily in her hand. Jack said something to her and she giggled. They kissed, Jack moving his mouth on hers, exciting her again. She lay back on the table and he pushed her knees against her breasts, her high heels pointing toward the night sky. He moved his cock in and out, causing jackoff to drain past his dick to puddle on the table and glisten in the moonlight.

Arnie didn't bother staying any longer. Heartbroken, he turned and made his way quietly back toward home, not realizing that Arlene's mother was standing only a few feet away, watching the three of them.

-------

The next morning, Diana sat in the kitchen tapping a fingernail against the table. Why wasn't Jeff ever here when she needed him? He had been on this trip for five days now, and probably wouldn't be home before the weekend.

She had done her daughter's laundry yesterday and had found a pair of panties with the crotch dried stiff. It had to be come. But, Arlene hadn't been alone with a boy. Diana had set down rules months ago, and had made sure she was around whenever Arnie came to visit. Then where had the sperm come from? she had wondered.

Last night as she checked on her daughter before going to bed herself, it had dawned on her. That was the reason Arlene had taken to sleeping late; she was sneaking out at night. Diana didn't want to confront her daughter with fucking Arnie and then find out that she was just having some type of discharge, though. Arlene would never forgive her. She just knew it had to be come in her daughter's panties, but there had been a way to be certain; she waited about fifteen minutes after telling Arlene good night, then quietly opened her daughter's door again. The room was empty.

Furious, Diana had gone down the stairs to the playroom\basement, slipped out into the garage, then on out through the door on the opposite side of the house. Arlene had to be in the back.

Quietly, Diana made her way around the side of the yard expecting to come from the back and catch Arlene and Arnie near the pool. Probably been screwing on the chaise lounge, she fumed to herself as she neared the picnic area. She heard noises and crept closer. She almost stepped in front of another figure that was so quiet she never heard him as he passed. Ah, it was Arnie. She almost slapped out at him for screwing her daughter, but instead, followed him. He stopped, then moved to the side and crept forward a few more feet.

What was he doing? Then she saw Arlene. It took a moment to get to where she could see clearly, then she just stood in shock. It wasn't Arnie that had been screwing her daughter; it was the boy down the street, the high school dropout that worked as a maintenance man at the apartment complex a few blocks over. She thought about scratching his eyes out, but hesitated. She had never seen anything like this in her life. Her daughter was wearing a minidress that she had given her, her high heels (Arlene didn't have any), and she had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth like some bar whore.

"I promised Arnie, uh ... that I wouldn't let, uh ... let you do this to me again."

Diana hesitated, conflicting emotions almost overpowering her. Her own pussy tingled as the guy shoved his cock up her daughter.

"Arnie and I love each other, and ... uh ... And I told him I wouldn't let you shoot off in me again. Uh ... uh ... uh... Oh, stop. Arnie will be here any minute, uh ... uh ... uh." Diana watched the guy ram into her daughter and hold.

Suddenly, Arlene's voice went up. "Jack, I can feel it jerking. Don't you do it. Uh ... uh ... uh. Wait, Jack," she whimpered. "Don't shoot of in mmmeeeeeee..."

After a few minutes, Arnie left, but Diana stayed and watched Arlene being fucked a second time. After the guy had gotten his rocks off again, he partially stood with Arlene lying on the table, his cock still up her pussy. Arlene pushed herself partway up, picked up a lighter from the table and slowly brought it to the cigarette, acting as if she had been smoking — and fucking — her whole life.

Diana turned and walked back toward the house, her own pussy hot and ultra sensitive, aware of her nipples pushing against her bra. Why didn't I stop them? She didn't know.

She tapped her nail hard against the table a last time. It was time for Arlene to get her butt out of bed. She was probably lying in there with come drying on her panties again. The stupid little nit had no way of getting all that come out of her. She would have to buy her daughter a douche bag. What was she thinking? What she needed to do was lock her in her room.

She (Diana) hadn't done anything last night because she didn't want to risk causing Arlene to hate her. What was she to do? Yeah Jeff, she thought, gone again when I need you.

Most people that didn't know the mother and daughter personally, thought they were sisters. Diana's mother looked young for her age; Diana looked really young for her age. The last couple of years, she just seemed to look younger all the time. It would be hard to convince a stranger that Diana was more than twenty-one, and no one would believe she was twenty-nine.

Diana and Arlene were close, but if she started screaming at Arlene, Diana feared that their relationship would never be the same again. Still, this kind of crap couldn't go on, Arlene would be pregnant in nothing flat — might already be.

She would put off talking to Arlene for a while. Right now, all she wanted to do was turn the little bitch over her knees and spank her, but Arlene was already almost two years older than Diana had been when Jeff talked her into getting into the back seat with him. She had never even let a boy kiss her titties before. That's when she had found out what an effect pulling on her nipples caused, let alone, sucking them. She had spread her legs for Jeff, so hot she had no control at all; one big push and her cherry had popped. A few minutes later, her womb was full of sperm, and she was knocked up.

Sitting here pretending to be a one-woman debate team wasn't doing any good; she might as well get dressed and get her shopping done. She got up and went into the bedroom to change. Deciding to wear a dress, she removed her shorts and top. The willowy brunette fluffed her waist-length, thick hair, then stood looking at herself in the mirror.

She undid her bra and critically examined her long full breasts, always strutted with milk no matter what she did. She had gone to the doctor, tired of wet stains on her clothing ever time she got excited. He had given her a shot, and it seemed to help for a few days, until Jeff got around to really sucking her, and her milk started all over again. Two trips to the doctor later, another shot and some pills, she thought she had finally gotten rid of the milk. Wrong. She got hot with Jeff's sucking — then he had started laughing. She didn't even have to look. She didn't try again; the shots made her dry-mouthed, and the pills made her constipated. The milk continued.

Her breasts still stood up (an out) as much as they always had. Men couldn't take their eyes off them. Touching her nipples, they poked out, ready to be sucked or played with. She shivered as she gently pulled on them. If Jeff had been home last night, she would have fucked his brains out. She still couldn't get her mind off the guy fucking Arlene. Diana was still horny. She had gotten herself off a half dozen times with her vibrator last night thinking about her daughter and this guy fucking, and she was tempted to do it again. Instead, she went to her closet.

She started to fasten her bra when she saw her gray blouse. The material molded around her breasts, even with a bra on; she decided to give the guys at the grocery store a show, and dropped the bra into the dirty clothes hamper. She slipped the blouse on, along with a miniskirt, and picked up her black spikes. Dirt on the heels. Arlene had managed to slip the shoes back into Diana's closet, but hadn't gotten all the dirt off the heels. She grinned in spite of herself, wiped the heels with a dampened tissue, then sat on the bed to put them on.

As her eyes focused on her dresser drawer where she kept her vibrator, she felt her body flush. She was hot. She could still see that boy's cock ramming up her daughter. Arlene had squealed when he had shot off in her. The second time he fucked her, she had wrapped her legs around him and met him stroke for stroke, humping her pussy up to him like she wanted his cock to come out her mouth.

Diana stood, checked her hair again, and left a note on the table telling Arlene that she had gone to run some errands and expected to be back in a couple of hours. She got her keys and purse, checked to see if she had cigarettes, and smiling, left a pack and lighter on the table for Arlene. If she were going to smoke, she might as well do it openly. Diana intended to offer her one when she got back, just to see what Arlene would do. She wondered whose idea the cigarette had been, Jack's or Arlene's — it had looked sexy the way Arlene had done it, though.

As she backed the car out of the garage into the bright sunlight, she turned the air conditioner up. It was already a hot day. Fifteen minutes later, the cashier at the bank's drive-in window almost dropped her teeth when she saw Diana's nipples poked out against the clinging material of the blouse. The cold air blowing on her breasts had puckered her long, thick nipples until they looked almost obscene. Completing the transaction, embarrassed until she was blushing, she turned toward home. She wasn't sure she could even go in a bar at night looking like this; she definitely wasn't up to a grocery store in broad daylight, though. If she hadn't been so horny, she would never have gotten the idea; she always wore a bra to conceal her large nipples. She didn't need a bra to hold her breasts up.

She didn't bother pulling into the garage, but stopped in front with the intention of just running in to put on a bra. She went through the side door, down the hall and walked into the kitchen. Arlene was lying across the kitchen table, and Jack was just pulling his cock out of her. As it slid out, it slapped audibly on the edge of the table as he stood up. A gush of come squirted out of her daughter to run down the crack of her ass and form a puddle.

Arlene saw her mother and said, quietly, "Oh, shit."

Jack whirled to face Diana, his cock swinging against his leg, a few drops of come leaking from the head onto the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Diana heard herself inanely demand, her voice shrill. What do you expect him to say? she thought to herself, "I'm fucking your daughter, stupid." How do I get into these things? she asked herself.

Seeing her daughter lying on the table, legs splayed, pussy wet with come, fresh fucked, with this naked guy standing there with his dick flopping against his leg, was almost more than Diana could stand. Her own pussy twitched and her nipples again became rock hard as she hung on the verge of orgasm.

Fighting the flush of arousal, she screamed, "You're the guy who fucked my daughter last night! Now you've come into my house and fucked her again. I'm going to call the cops."

As they stood staring at each other, Jack's cock started to rise. It was evident he was looking at her nipples. In two steps, he was upon her. With one hand on her back to keep her from moving away, he placed the other on her right breast, squeezing gently and running his thumb across her nipple. Diana gasped, shivered as he pulled on her nipple, and struggled to pull away from him. In a moment, his cock was pressing against her belly as it stood out in front of him.

Arlene, seeing what was happening, said again, awed, "Oh ... shit."

Jack gently rolled her nipple back and forth between finger and thumb as Diana half-heartily pushed at him with her hands. She shivered again, violently, as her pent-up orgasm released, sending spikes of ecstasy through her pussy. She mentally cursed herself, but before her orgasm had completely subsided, he had her blouse open, a breast exposed, his mouth sucking her nipple.

She had never had anyone, other than her husband, suck her nipples, and she wasn't any better at controlling her reaction now than she had been at thirteen when Jeff had sucked her for the first time. In addition, this person was almost a stranger, a stranger that she had watched fuck her daughter. He was probably six feet, had a muscular built, and the arrogant, assured way of someone who thought he was a cocksman. The only problem: she was afraid he was a cocksman. She tried to push his face away — his mouth from her breast — as another orgasm flashed through her pussy. Tingles raced to her nipples. She knew that Jack was sucking her milk, but she could only gasp and shiver, her hips slowly rotating, instead of slapping him silly.

Her naked daughter sat up, picked up the pack of cigarettes and lit one, just as sexily as she had done it last night. Some part of Diana's mind noted that Arlene hadn't bothered denying anything, apparently had already put everything together. Since the only way she (Diana) could know about the fucking was to have watched, Arlene had nothing to hide about smoking.

Jack was now squeezing her other breast and working on the nipple. She could feel wetness on herself where that nipple had begun to drool. This is stupid, she thought. Here I stand, tits squirting milk like a cow, while this guy sucks me. I'm not going to let this nineteen-year-old fuck me. But about that time, he put a hand under her miniskirt and dragged his finger through the lips of her pussy through her panties.

That did it. Her body bucked as another orgasm hit. The next thing she knew, her ass was against the table and her daughter was scrambling out of the way. A few seconds later, her panties joined Jack's shorts on the floor. Her skirt was soon pushed above her hips and his rod was pushing against her pussy. She struggled, at least mentally, she wasn't sure her mind ever transmitted the thoughts into action, but she knew Jack had figured out her weakness. If her nipples were being stimulated, she was going to have an orgasm — she couldn't help it, and she couldn't stop it.

I wonder if he will make me hold a cigarette in my mouth the way he did Arlene,  she vacuously thought.

She had to catch herself with her hands behind her or be pushed completely back on the table. As she braced herself, her breasts were offered all the more to Jack, who kept sucking her while he positioned himself. This guy must have a thing about tables. Do something, stupid,  she admonished herself, or he is going to fuck you, even as he put his weight behind his cock and the bloated head popped in. It spread her tube and started to slide up her, sending a trail of mini-orgasms shooting through her pussy.

He's going to break his dumb neck, trying to push his cock up me and suck my tit at the same time. She felt him thrust hard twice, then a third time, pushing his cock farther up her pussy. On the fourth thrust, he turned her breast loose and rammed his cock the rest of the way, slamming into her, almost lifting her off the table. "Umpff," she said, then admonished herself mentally for verbally reacting to him. The orgasm that had started when he began sucking her breasts, went through the roof when he slammed his groin into her clit. She violently shivered and convulsed as he drew his hips back and rammed his cock up her again.

"Wow," she heard her daughter exclaim, as Jack rammed into her mother. As the woman bucked, her long breasts bouncing and swaying, multiple, hair-thin streams of milk sprayed from her swollen and elongated nipples. She heard someone moaning, realized it was herself. Jack's rhythm picked up. He bent his knees and rammed into her, driving his cock deeper to touch her womb, the thrusts throwing her off balance. She scrambled for purchase with her high heels on the tile floor as he rapid-fucked her.

A few more thrusts and his rhythm broke. Oh, crap, she thought, when was my last period? She tried to count off the days. Am I fertile? She was afraid that she was. Fertile or not, he isn't going to stop, and all I can do is come. Shit!

He jammed up her, hard, held, then shivered. Jamming up her again, he grasped her ass, leaned back and drove his cock to his balls, hard. His cock jerked. She managed a forlorn "Nooooo..." before they erupted, his cock swelled and his jism geysered out of his cock, spurting into her pussy. "Uhhhhh," she said as his rut hosed into her belly, even as some small part of her brain wanted to wring her neck for sounding like her daughter. His cock jerked again and the next gush spewed against her womb, causing a gasp to escape her lips. In spite of herself, she rammed her pussy against him as her orgasm again peaked.

My brain and my hips must not be on the same page. I want to stop, but my hips are fucking like a bitch in heat. Jeff, you asshole, you should have been home with your dick up me. Now this punk is fucking the shit out of me. Her breath was coming in gasps, her legs splayed wide as she kicked out her passion before going completely back on the table with her legs locked around his hips. My ass is still squirming, trying to milk out the last of his sperm. Her pussy milked his cock the way he had her nipples.

When his cock quit squirting, he slow fucked her until he was sure that the last of his seed was inside her, then let his cock soak in her pussy as he kissed her and sucked her tits. She shivered, feeling the warm wetness inside her pussy.

She had better give her husband a piece of ass without a rubber, she thought, this guy might just have done it.

An accompanying gush of come followed Jack's dick as he pulled out of Diana. He squeezed her nipple another time, stepped over to Arlene, his limp cock bumping against his leg, kissed her thoroughly, and said, "I'm late. I've got to fix a leak in 37C, but I'll stop by for a little pussy tomorrow." Without further comment, he pulled on his pants, slipped on his shoes and left through the back door.

Diana wouldn't look at her daughter, but pulled the miniskirt down and her top over her breasts, then took off for the bathroom, hand under her skirt capped over her leaking pussy — guilt flooding her mind like his rut did in her pussy. She filled the douche bag as fast as she could and washed herself out twice. She fervently hoped she had gotten his stuff out of her in time.

What if I'm pregnant? Jeff would have a fit — and that would be with him thinking it was his baby, if he ever found out what had happened, there was no telling what he would do. Her hands trembled as she hung the bag back up. Where in the hell is the spermicide, she screamed mentally as she rummaged through the dresser drawer. There, finally. She filled the tube with shaking hands, lay back on the bed, shoved the applicator up her pussy and rammed the plunger home.

How on earth had she gotten into this? She had never messed around on Jeff, though she had been tempted when Carl propositioned her. He had pointed out that Jeff was gone an awful lot, and doubted that he had been true to her all these years. Carl had said it would be only natural for Jeff to seek company after staying in all those boring hotel rooms, and that she shouldn't be mad at him about it, but should understand. Then he pointed out that what was "good for the goose was good for the gander."

He added that there was nothing wrong with her having a little sex with someone discrete while her husband was gone. After all, Jeff had probably been doing it for years. When she again protested, he assured her that he wasn't trying to break up her marriage, but just wanted to make love to her and fulfill her needs, just as her husband was probably getting his fulfilled.

She knew that Carl was only trying to get into her pants, and to make her rationalize her guilt away by making her think her husband was fucking waitresses while he was on his trips, but Carl had made her think, anyway. It kept bugging her. She had seen smudges on Jeff's collar that had looked suspiciously like makeup, and had almost asked him if he had ever fucked around on her. But she was afraid he would tell her he had, and she didn't know whether she wanted him to answer or not. It made her sick to think of him being with another woman, but at the same time, in a way, it excited her. After Carl had propositioned her, she had lain in bed alternately fantasizing about Carl fucking her, and her husband fucking a waitress. All the while, she masturbated like a teenager. Now this.

She had just had the shit fucked out of her by a nineteen-year-old that had gotten his rocks off in her with her no longer on the pill. Her doctor had taken her off birth control pills a couple of years ago because he thought she had been on them too long. She and Jeff had tried several things, but finally just used rubbers.

He had been grumbling more lately, saying, "it was like washing his feet with his socks on." He kept telling her he wanted to shoot his load in her. Well, he surely was going to get his wish. He was going to get a piece when he got home, then she was going to jump up and take a douche. Hopefully, he wouldn't suspect anything, and it would expose her to as small a chance of pregnancy as she could manage under the circumstances. A douche was chancy birth control at best, though. Crap. How did I get myself into this mess?

"Arlene! Get yourself in here," she yelled.

When her daughter stepped timidly into the bedroom, the girl now clothed in halter-top and shorts, Diana continued gruffly. "Since the same guy has just fucked us both, I guess it doesn't make any difference if we use the same douche bag." Arlene looked questioningly at her with her eyes round. Diana relented and changed her tone. "Look, we've both screwed up, big time. I've taken a douche and I want you to, also. I know that you've been fucking him before today, and you might already be pregnant — me too. He could have gotten me just now — but I want to make every effort we can, so get in there," she said, pointing toward the bathroom, "and I'll show you how. Then we'll introduce you to a tube of spermicide and hope for the best."



-------

Chapter 3

A little later, when her daughter came out of the bathroom, she looked at Diana and her eyes brimmed over. "Oh, Mamma. I'm sorry — I just couldn't help it. I didn't want him to do it the first time, but last night, he made me hot just standing and looking at me. This morning," she sobbed, "I just wanted him to do it to me. Mamma, I just couldn't help it. I can control Arnie, but when Jack grabs my breasts, I just want him to stick his thing in me."

Diana took her daughter in her arms and let her cry on her shoulder. How could she fuss at Arlene when she could feel her own pussy tingling from Jack's rough treatment? If he had fucked her much longer the way he was ramming into her, she would be too sore to walk tomorrow. Her husband's cock was larger — a lot larger — than Jack's, but Jeff made gentle love to her. He was tender with her. Jack had fucked the shit out of her.

She stroked her daughter's hair, shushing her, "It's okay. It's okay," all the while thinking about Jack's last few strokes as his orgasm built and he filled her with his seed.

She shivered, pushed Arlene to arms' length. "Let's stop crying over spilt milk — or come," she added sheepishly. Diana picked up the filled applicator. "Lie down on the bed, stick this up your pussy and push the plunger." When Arlene started to push the plunger, Diana stopped her. "No. Shove the applicator all the way up your pussy until you hit your cervix, then push the plunger. The spermicide has got to get where the sperm is." Arlene pushed with her finger until she winced, then pushed the plunger.

"Will this keep me from getting pregnant?" Arlene hesitantly asked.

"Well, it's supposed to be used first, so that it's in your pussy and womb, before the sperm. It's not as efficient this way, but hopefully it will kill any sperm left in you. The question is," she continued ruefully, "has his sperm already made it to your egg before you used the spermicide, or did he get you last night, or the other times?" The last she said with emphasis, which produced a deeper blush from Arlene. "Yeah, I saw the dried come in your panties. I don't know how many times you have fucked him, but believe me, it only takes once if you're fertile. You're a walking example of that, she added." At Arlene's questioning look, Diana added, "I've got a story to tell you. It's a sex story and a love story, for I do love your dad very, very much." Tears welled in her eyes as she thought how she had just acted like a slut.

Shaking her head, Diana was quiet for a moment then said, "We can fix something to eat, and I'll tell you my story, then you can fill me in on everything that's happened."

As Diana rummaged through the refrigerator a few minutes later, looking for something to make sandwiches, she thought: Well, that solved one of my problems, at least. I don't have to worry any more about alienating my daughter. We're in the same boat. She certainly hadn't planned it, but they were, indeed, in this thing together, and she could tell by the relieved look on Arlene's face that she would not keep anything from her. Diana just hoped she hadn't paid too high a price for earning her daughter's trust, inadvertent or not.

They had talked for a while. Diana told her story of how Jeff had gotten her hot and talked her into the back seat, then sucked her nipples, shoved his dick in, and impregnated her. She explained about having back to back orgasms when her nipples were stimulated or sucked, and how vulnerable she was, as evidenced by Jack's seduction of her a little while ago. Arlene had cried and given her a detailed account of everything that had happened.

When Arlene was done, Diana was both furious and sexually excited. Her pussy tingled and was leaking more than just spermicide. She berated herself for getting hot over her daughter's coerced rape, and said, "Darling, he didn't have anything on you. So you were jacking Arnie off. I would have fussed at you a little, if I found out, but I would have spent more time talking to you about your choice of a partner to give your virginity to, and told you about ways to keep from getting pregnant. And,  if you had come to me after Jack raped you, I would have called the police and that creep would be in jail now."

"But, Mom, I had chosen Arnie to take my cherry. He's really nice and I think I love him, but I just hadn't built up enough nerve to let him do it. Then Jack scared me so bad when he said he would show you and Dad those pictures, and the people at school. I just didn't know what to do. Then he kissed me and pulled on my nipples, and sucked them really hard.

"I don't know what happened, I didn't want him to do it. I did try to stop him, and Arnie did too, but I just kept coming, and couldn't stop. Then he shoved it up me, and I just wanted to fuck. Oh, Momma..." she said, sobbing.

Diana held her daughter while she cried, and cried just as much as Arlene. They talked and spilled tears for an hour, and got around to eating the sandwiches after a while. Diana called the doctor and got an appointment for Thursday of the next week to get them both on the pill.

They went shopping together, Diana reasoning that few things could calm a female down like a good shopping trip. They giggled and cut up with each other while Diana bought everything Arlene needed to keep herself clean. They stopped by Diana's favorite clothing store and bought Arlene a couple of sexy nighties. At the grocery store, Diana picked up an extra carton of cigarettes for her daughter.

"What will Dad think?" Arlene questioned, when she realized what her mother had done.

"He won't like it, but I know that he thinks it is sexy if you do it right, and from the way you smoked last night and this morning, I think he will quit grumping pretty quickly. I'll tell him about it first, then you just act casually about it. If he starts fussing about it, just give him your 'Ah, Daddy' speech and sit in his lap," she laughed. "You've been able to wrap him around your little finger just about all your life. It shouldn't be a major problem."

Arlene was quiet for a while, then as they neared home, she looked over at her mother. "Mom, it gives me goose bumps every time I think about you watching Jack do it to me last night." Her mother glanced at her momentarily, then looked back at traffic. Arlene continued, hesitantly, "I acted like a real ... whore. Didn't I?" she quietly finished.

Diana didn't answer immediately, pretended to concentrate on the traffic, but in her mind's eye she could see her daughter's legs entwined about Jack's hips, could see his balls rocking back and forth in the moonlight, hear Arlene's squeals as Jack got his rocks off in her. Diana's pussy felt wet from the mental stimulation. She remembered how badly she wanted to fuck after she had watched her daughter.

She could have stopped Jack, probably would have under other circumstances, no matter how much he pulled on her nipples, but she had still been excited when she walked into the kitchen and caught them fucking, again. Arlene had been sexy, and indeed, had acted like a little whore — the cigarette dangling from her mouth while Jack fucked her. She may be young, but she was trying to turn Jack on with her combination of innocence and haughtiness.

"Yes you did, Sweetheart — and so did your mother. And I came so hard that for a minute I thought I had broken something," she said. Glancing at her daughter, "I guess it's just in our genes, but that's the end of that crap. I'm a married woman, and you're fifteen. This is over. I'm not going to mess around on your daddy, and you're too young for a steady diet of this. If you really love Arnie, then you'll stop with a little petting."

"Mom, I've told you everything, but you've got to realize that Arnie loves me and he watched Jack do it to me twice. Well, uh, I guess, four times, if you count how many times Jack did it in me. I think Arnie has about had it with me, but I don't want to lose him. I didn't even know that he had seen me last night, until you told me. That explains why he didn't show up, and why he hasn't called me today. I'm going to lose him if all I do is let him suck my nipples a little. He was really mad when I wouldn't let him come in me after Jack did it in me. Now, after he's seen me with Jack again, he probably won't even speak to me, but I think I can take care of his ego if I get a chance to let him make love to me."

Diana's face set. "Arlene Matthews, you are not to be alone with that boy, and that goes double for Jack."

"Mom. I'm going to lose Arnie, and I want to marry him one day," Arlene desperately said. "I told you everything so I wouldn't have to sneak around. Now you're going to wreck my life," Arlene cried.

"What's going to 'wreck' your life is a baby, and either one of those boys is perfectly capable of getting you pregnant, young lady, if you aren't already."

"But you're going to put me on the pill."

Diana glanced at her daughter, furious, but trying to hide it. "Putting you on the pill is a precaution for my own peace of mind. It's not a license to fuck."

Arlene sat quietly for a moment, then looked defiantly at her mother. "Then why did you say you were going back on the pill?"

Diana pulled into their driveway, and eased the car into the garage. "Maybe it's for some more peace of mind," she finally said.

Arlene just looked at her, gathered up her packages and stalked into the house.

Diana watched her daughter wrestle the door open. Oh, boy,  she thought. Back to square one.

When Diana got inside, Arlene met her in the living room. "Mom, I'm going over to Arnie's."

Diana unconsciously put her hands on her hips. "No, you're not," she said through clenched teeth. When Arlene burst into tears, she partially relented. "You can call him on the phone, but you have to do it from the living room where I can hear your side of the conversation."

"Mom, I can't talk to him with you listening, " she wailed.

Diana put her arm around her daughter. "Look, Arlene, you've seen me get screwed, I've seen you get screwed. What difference does it make if I listen to what you tell him? I know you have to appease him; I'm just not going to let you make a date to be alone with him, especially right now.

"Now call him and tell him how much you love him, and how sorry you are that you screwed Jack, or whatever you are going to tell him, but you're not going to make love to him. Look, Darling, let's not fuss," she desperately said. "We've both screwed up, but we're not going to make it any better by taking it out on each other."

Arlene wasn't pleased, but she called as Diana sat in the living room looking through a magazine and listening to the conversation. Arlene wheedled, begged and pleaded, repeatedly telling Arnie how much she loved him. She told him she had worn the outfit for him, but Jack had shown up and grabbed hold of her. He had told her he would give the picture to her parents if she didn't give him some pussy, and between the threat and his rubbing her pussy and sucking her nipples, she just couldn't stop him.

She had reminded Arnie that it had been no different when he had been there, and he (Arnie) had allowed Jack to take her cherry. She insisted that Arnie should have stopped Jack, and would have too, if he really loved her. Diana got up and walked out of the room. Her daughter had her boyfriend on the defensive now. The fight was over, whether Arnie realized it or not.

Later, they sent out for pizza and ate it while lying on Diana's bed. They watched TV, smoked, giggled and acted like sisters with a secret.

As Diana channel surfed looking for something interesting, Arlene asked, "Mom, do you play with yourself?" Diana almost dropped the remote. While she looked at her daughter, trying to think of something to say, Arlene continued, "You know, masturbate?" she finished, as if it were a dirty word.

"Well, I..." Diana started, trying not to lie but uncomfortable talking about this, even though her daughter had watched as Jack fucked her. "Honey, I'm married. Your father makes love to me," she answered, lamely.

"Oh, Mom. Dad isn't ever here. Don't you ever do it to yourself?"

Crap, Diana thought. Her daughter had told her everything that had happened to her, taking hours to tell her every detail. Now she was asking a simple question, but Diana had never even told Jeff that she masturbated. She heard herself mumble, "Yes. I do it." Then in a stronger voice, "I do it a lot, especially after I saw you and Jack out back. I thought I would never stop coming."

"I do it too, Mom. I do it all the time. Have since I was twelve."

Diana breathed an exaggerated sigh, propped her pillow up and stretched out on the bed. "Well, now that we've got that out of the way, shall we go rent a movie?"

Arlene didn't say anything for a minute. "Maybe. But I want to try on my new stuff first. It's my first week of summer vacation; we can stay up as late as we want. We can rent a movie in a little while, can't we?"

Diana grinned, "Sure honey. I forgot all about your new things. Try them on and let's see how you look in them."

Arlene dashed off to her room, and was back in only a few moments wearing one of her new nighties. After modeling it, she went to try on the other one. This took longer, and when she came back in, she was wearing the pale purple negligée that Diana had bought her, along with a pair of Diana's spike heels. She held one of the 120's in her hand and pretended to search for a lighter while she strutted around, breasts thrown out, as sexy a creature as Diana had ever seen.

Diana giggled despite herself. Her daughter was going to be a real bombshell — was already, she corrected herself. Seeing her strut haughtily around reminded Diana of the way Arlene had acted when Jack had fucked her on the picnic table. This would never do. She had to stop this right now. "Baby, you look sexy doing that, but you have to get all this sex off your mind. This thing can't continue with Jack and Arnie."

"Oh, Mom," Arlene complained, as she bounced down on the bed beside her mother. "I can't think of anything else. When I went to my room to get this nightie, I played with myself and had two orgasms." She sighed, "All I have to do is touch myself and I come, I'm so hot."

Diana opened her mouth to admonish her daughter, but realized that Arlene was describing the way both of them felt. Her own nipples were hard, just as her daughter's obviously were, and her pussy ached to be touched. Instead of an admonition, after a moment she agreed. "Me too, I guess. I've never had anything like this happen to me, either. But that doesn't change anything; we are not going to continue with this. I love Jeff and I'm going to be true to him."

Arlene pulled up her legs and squeezed her thighs together. "I love Arnie, too, but I'm constantly thinking about Jack sticking his thing up me. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel it inside me." She slipped her hand between her legs and touched her pussy, shivering as she touched her clit. She held the cigarette up in her other hand and gently slid her finger through her pussy lips. Her mouth parted slightly as she concentrated on the sensation.

When Diana realized what Arlene was doing, her faced flushed, and her pussy tingled. She wanted to touch herself as Arlene was doing, but there was no way she would ever do such a thing with her daughter right beside her. When Jeff had asked her if she masturbated, she had vehemently denied it — it was too personal a thing to admit even to her husband.

Arlene leaned all the way back on the bed, her nightie sliding above her pussy as her hand continued slowly moving through her nether lips, the top of each stroke just grazing her clit. She gasped, held her breath and came. She whimpered as her hand picked up speed, carrying her higher and higher. The orgasm reached a plateau, continued a little longer, then ended. She lay on the bed, her hand tightly covering her pussy, and regained her breathing. After a little while, Arlene looked over at her mother. "I didn't really mean to do that. I just can't help myself."

Diana tried to think of something to say, but all she could think of was the heat in her loins. Again, she could see Jack thrusting up into her daughter as she leaned back on the picnic table. She could see her prissy daughter taking the cock up her pussy like she did this every day. Before she realized what she was doing, her hand touched her pussy under the miniskirt that had already slid well up her thighs when she moved around on the bed.

She had taken her bra off when they had gotten home, then slipped her panties off since they were wet with spermicide. She hadn't bothered putting any more back on. The first touch of her hand sent tingles racing to her engorged nipples. She was already on the edge from hearing Arlene's story, and then watching her daughter bring herself off. In an instant, her orgasm was upon her. She shivered, hunched farther over on the bed, squeezed her nipple with her left hand, tickled her clit with the other, and peaked twice in rapid succession.

"Wow," Arlene exclaimed. "Lie back so I can watch, and do that some more."

This is crazy Diana thought. Sure teenage girls do this together, but I'm a woman.

"Come on Mom. Lie back and let's do it together."

Diana lay back, brought her knees partway up, and continued gently stroking her pussy while her daughter placed the cigarette in her mouth as she had with Jack, then mimicked her mother's actions. In a few seconds, both females bucked to another orgasm.

Diana's mind must have registered the first flash, but it never really occurred to her what had happened. The second flash did get her attention, but by then it was too late.

Jack stood grinning just inside the bedroom door. He set the camera on the dresser, unbuckled his pants and dropped them on the floor, his cock already rock-hard and standing straight out.

"How did you get in here?" Diana demanded, trying to pull the miniskirt back down her hips.

Arlene didn't say anything, but just froze in position, fingers still gently tantalizing her clit.

"I wonder what your husband would think about the pictures I just took, or the principal at the school?" Jack questioned, a smirk on his face, while slowly stroking his cock.

Realizing what Jack was up to, wondering if she could get to the camera and delete the pictures before Jack could stop her, Diana responded brusquely. "Oh no you're not. You've already blackmailed my daughter into giving you her virginity. I'll call the cops." She glanced at the camera again, but knew that the muscular boy would have no problem stopping her.

"If you do," Jack replied, unperturbed, "your husband and the principal will still see the pictures, and what are you going to tell them about why you and your daughter are laying on this bed masturbating together? Seems to me your husband should be just a wee bit curious about how you ever got into mutual masturbation. And I'll be glad to tell him all about fucking Arlene, not to mention our little set-to on the kitchen table this morning."

"He wouldn't believe you," Diana desperately replied, her heart in her mouth.

"Oh, I think he would. I could tell him about the milk squirting out of your tits when I pulled on your nipples, even describe the taste."

"But, you raped me," she responded, lamely.

"The only thing vaguely close to rape was when I grabbed you, but then when I pulled on your nipple, you started coming. I'll tell your husband how your pussy milked my dick while I was shooting off in you. Let's see what he thinks about the whole thing then. Do you really think you can convince him it was rape after I talk to him? Besides, you know yourself that I gave you only what you wanted. If you had really wanted me to stop, I would have."

Before Diana could argue further, Jack stepped closer and knelt beside her on the bed, his cock thumping against her leg. The solid feel of it, and its warmth, heightened her awareness of his cock even more. As she tried to pull her legs together and move away, he lay across her body, his chest on her breasts as he leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head to the side, but his hand was already at her pussy, pushing the skirt out of the way. Her heightened senses felt his touch on her clit as if he had touched her with a red-hot poker.

"No," she hissed through clenched teeth as she reached for his hand, but before she could respond, his finger slipped inside her already slick pussy and jammed to his knuckle. At the same time, he moved his other hand under her top and sought out her nipples.

"Nooo ... Jack, I can't do this. I'm a married woman. I'm not even on the pill," she said, struggling with him.

Jack's mouth followed his fingers and pulled strongly on her left nipple. Her hands lost purpose, waved around, as she continued to whisper, "Noooo ... noooo..." over and over. She fought her body as she had never before. Opening her eyes, she looked wildly around, focusing on Arlene lying next to them, now masturbating wildly, cigarette still dangling haughtily from her mouth as she brought herself off again and again.

Finding strength she didn't know she possessed, Diana called out, "Baby, help me. Get him off me. We can't do this again."

Her daughter only giggled. "You look sexy, Mom." Then, "Uhhhh..." as her orgasm peaked.

Jack slid down and buried his tongue in Diana's pussy. Her breath caught, as another forlorn "Noooo," slipped out. She panted as her orgasm built despite her strongest efforts. Arlene rolled over, reached out and tweaked her mother's nipple as Jack's tongue lashed repeatedly across her clit. Diana's legs spread wide, then clamped around Jack's head and shoulders as she slammed her pussy into his face. She tightened every muscle in her body, raising her ass off the bed as her orgasm began to climb, then went straight through the roof.

Arlene continued to roll her mother's nipple between thumb and forefinger, alternately pulling and rolling it, as Diana shivered and bucked, her lips slightly parted as she stared between her long tits at Jack's face. She kicked her legs, shuddered, then completely relaxed in a dead faint.

"Wow," Arlene said again, as her mother slumped down. Then a moment later, "Is she okay?" concern echoing in her voice.

"She's fine," Jack replied as he came to his knees between Diana's legs. He leaned forward and pushed her top above her tits. "Play with her nipples some more," he directed Arlene as he propped up on a forearm, while he guided his cock to Diana's pussy with the other hand.

As Jack prepared to mount Diana, Arlene had second thoughts. Taking the cigarette from her lips, she stammered, "I ... I don't know about this. We spent all day talking about what's happened, and she's really worried about not being true to Daddy, and us getting pregnant. I think about, especially, her getting pregnant. Mom's thinks she's fertile. I'm afraid if you come in her again, she'll get pregnant. I don't want my mom and dad to get a divorce."

Jack grunted as he pushed his cockhead against the tight pussy. "Just keep pulling on that nipple," he said, as he pushed harder. "She isn't going to get pregnant. After I pop her," he said, winking at Arlene, "I'll stroke that little pussy of yours for you."

Jack felt the tight, wet pussy start to surround his cock as he pushed slowly up Diana. He loved the initial push into a female, particularly one he had never fucked, or hadn't fucked much. These were the sexiest two he had ever seen in his life. Most of the other girls he had fucked, came only once or twice and were constantly wanting him to buy them something, or go out with them. He had fucked a couple of older women, but they were always telling him what to do, and he had to work his ass off to get them to come.

These two started coming when his dick went in and kept it up until he hosed their pussies with come. Not to say anything about being the best looking bitches he had ever seen, bar none, anywhere — and their tits sprayed milk when he pulled on their nipples, just as Diana's were doing right now. Jack couldn't stand it any longer. He caught the back of Diana's knees, put her legs above his shoulders and rammed home.

Diana shivered, opened her eyes woozily, and focused on Jack above her. He drew back and stroked to his balls again, then rotated his ass, trying to get the head of his cock to her cervix. She tensed, bucked, then shivered again. "Oh, don't do this to me. I'm a married woman," she wailed.

Whump. Jack drove his cock to the hilt again.

Diana's voice went up, almost to a squeal. Rallying again, she begged, "Oh, please. You've already fucked me this morning. I'm going to get pregnant if you keep doing this to me."

Jack thrust again, hard, then settled down to a steady rhythm.

Arlene rolled to her back, replaced the cigarette in her lips as Jack watched her, then slid her finger up and down her pussy lips.

"My husband..." Diana whispered as Jack grabbed her tits and fucked her hard and fast. Diana gasped. Jacked thumped one nipple several times, hard. When Diana shivered, he locked his lips around it and sucked, trying to drain her milk. Diana forgot what she was trying to say, whimpered, bucked, and came, wiggling her hips.

I'm acting like a stupid slut. I've got to stop this before he shoots off in me again. I'll time him and as he draws back for a long stroke, I'll roll out from under him and run.

Just as she planned to move, Jack grasped her hips and rapid fucked her, his balls making a smacking sound as they slapped rhythmically against her upturned ass, his groin slamming relentlessly against hers, her long breasts swaying and bouncing. Almost immediately, she came again, her hips squirming her pussy against him. The orgasm went on and on. She had never acted like this with her husband, let alone had orgasms this strong. She forgot about rolling from under him, and as he leaned back, she pulled her legs from above his shoulders, but wrapped them high around his hips, his cock continuing to piston up her pussy. She bucked like a mad woman, breasts bouncing as she sought out yet another orgasm, accompanying it with a high-pitched squeal that she couldn't believe was coming from her own mouth.

Moving his hands back to her breasts, Jack milked her nipples, pulling hard on them, making them squirt milk. He lurched hard against her twice and clamped his hands hard around her breasts. She moaned against his chest. "No, Jack," she hissed, feeling his cock jerk. But it was already too late, his cock jerked again and she felt warmth inside her. He held deep within her, then shivering, hunched several short, rapid strokes, his cock jerking every couple of seconds, and the feeling of warmth spread throughout her pussy.

The hot seed within her, and coming from someone that shouldn't be inside her, sparked an intense orgasm that built higher and higher as his semen continued to pour out of his cock deep within her. She gasped as the hair on his chest raked across her spurting nipples, and she deliberately milked his cock, pulling forth more of his sperm as they slowly rocked to a halt, his cock pushed to the hilt. They lay like that for several minutes, her pussy trembling around his dick.

Without warning, Jack leaned back, pulling his glistening dick from her pussy.

"Roll over on your belly," he ordered as he grasped her hips and helped her to turn over. "No, Jack," she complained, really getting scared. "Don't you ever get enough?"

Jack laughed. Ten bucks each for those little blue pills, but I can fuck all day when I take them. He mounted her, as she continued to protest. Her mind raced. He's too aggressive to fuck me like this. He'll kill me for sure. I have to convince him.

Jack grasped one firm, rounded hip as he guided his cock to her pussy with the other hand.

"Baby, help me," she pleaded to her daughter. Before she had time to think about or do anything else, the head popped in. Jack put both hands on her hips, and as she tried to struggle forward away from him, thrust to the hilt.

"Uhhhhnnnnn..." she grunted, unable to make a coherent sound. Frantic, she tried to wiggle away from him. I've got to do something. He's going to impregnate me for sure.

Jack reached forward, grasped her hanging breasts, and pulled sharply downward on her long nipples, cruelly milking them, jerking alternately, first one and then the other.

Oh, shit, I'm coming, and my orgasm is going through the roof again. I'll never get him out of me now.

After a few minutes of steady fucking accompanied by the milking, and a long, continuing orgasm that seemed to never end for Diana, Jack slowed his rhythm, but still firmly stroked against her cervix on each thrust.

Through a blur of emotions, Diana heard Jack say, "I've got a fetish, I guess you would call it. I like to see a good-looking female holding a long cigarette in her mouth or even in her hand. I want you to do like your daughter did last night. Give her a cigarette," Jack instructed Arlene.

Well here it comes. Oh, well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Arlene reached up and got a cigarette from the pack of 120's on the head of the bed. "Here, Mom," she said, "You already smoke sexy, anyway. I'm patterning after you, and this kind of turns me on, too."

Diana accepted the cigarette, not really seeing why it would make her appear sexy, but complying anyway. Her orgasm was hanging right on the edge as she automatically pulled on the unlit cigarette, hollowing her cheeks, as Jack's thrusts picked up. This time he didn't let up, but continued, his whole body tightening, his cock becoming so hard it felt like a rod stuck up her pussy. Here it comes, she thought as he shifted his hands from her nipples to her breasts, using them to hang on to as he rammed into her. Oh, I felt it jerk that time. She unconsciously lifted her ass higher, dropping her belly, presenting her pussy. He started a series of short, fast strokes, then held. Strokes, then held.

I feel it throbbing, but I won't get pregnant when he shoots his sperm in me. I won't. Oh, Jeff, why aren't you here? Her orgasm peaked, the cigarette bouncing gently in her lips, then as Jack slammed in and held, she pulled on the cigarette, hollowing her cheeks as his cock jerked. She heard her daughter say, "Oh, shit," in an awed voice, then his sperm hit, the first gush spurting against her cervix.

Oh, great, I can feel his sperm. My cervix must be dilated from all the pounding he's giving it, and here I've got my ass stuck up in the air, giving him an even better shot at it.

One part of her mind seemed to watch as her orgasm peaked again, and she ground her ass backward, ramming against his groin, as another spurt of his seed gushed into her.

There must be millions of wiggling sperm all trying for my egg. She pinched her own nipple, then turned her head slightly to give him a view of her face as she pulled on her cigarette. She reached back and rubbed his hairy thighs as he rapid-fucked her, then rammed in and held, while her pussy milked the rut out of his cock.

She could hear her daughter gasp, could see her buck as she pumped her own ass up and down on the bed while she masturbated herself to another orgasm.

Jack snatched a pillow and shoved it under Diana's belly as he pushed forward, forcing her to lie belly-down on the bed, while he squirmed his cock around inside her until the last of his seed dripped out into her pussy. After a while, he lay still, pushed firmly up her yet, just letting his cock soak in her twitching pussy.

Jeff, you should have come home instead of extending your trip. My pussy has another man's rut in it. Oh, I'm going to do it again. Oh, I'm there. I'm there. Ohhhhhh ... She heaved her ass upward once more as one final orgasm spasmed through her come-filled pussy.

After the orgasm ended, Arlene tossed her the lighter and she lit her cigarette, deliberately taking her time about it, making herself as sexy as she could for Jack. As she pulled haughtily on the cigarette, he made no comment, just continued soaking his cock. When she was finished with the cigarette, he pulled his cock out.

Moving around in front of her, he said, "Get back on your hands and knees and suck my cock."

"I don't do that," she lied.

"Don't give me that crap. There's no way your husband is going to work his ass off for you without getting his cock sucked now and then. Get over here and wrap those lips around my dick," he commanded, holding his cock and shaking it at her.

A few drops of come flipped off the head as he shook his cock, now standing straight out again. As he moved toward her face, she could smell the powerful smell of fresh-fucked pussy coming from his dick.

What am I going to do? I'll throw up if he puts that thing in my mouth. Jeff always showers and cleans himself before he asks me to do it, but this thing reeks, and will probably taste worse.

Frenziedly, she tried to think of something as he shoved his cock forward, bumping it against her face, as he grasped her hair and pulled her to her hands and knees. While she mumbled out a protest, he shoved the come-wet cock against her mouth.

"Take it easy, or take it hard, but you are going to take it," he said, as with one hand knotted in her hair and against the back of her head, the other hand still on his cock, he guided it to her mouth.

"Jack, I'll throw up if you put that thing in my mouth. At least go and wash it first."

"You'll love it like it is, even better," he promised, as he eased his hips forward, pushing the head of his cock into her mouth.

"Noumph," she protested as he shoved deeper, keeping a firm hold on the back of her head as he pushed his cock between her pouting lips. Her husband told her that she had the sexiest mouth he had ever seen. As the foul-tasting cock shoved its way into her mouth, Diana tried not to gag, tried to concentrate on her husband. When had she last sucked his cock? She tried to get her mind off what was happening to her, tried to numb herself to this sexy cock pushing into her mouth. She heard Jack instructing her as he started his rhythm and the repulsive tasting cock slid back and forth through her lips.

"Suck and let off," he ordered, "suck and let off, suck and let off."

Her daughter pinched her nipple and Diana came, her hips finding their own rhythm as Jack grunted. "Suck it, damn it," he said through clenched teeth. Finally, she did as he ordered. A hard suck and let off, then a hard suck again. Jack's strokes lengthened and the cock went to the back of her throat, causing her to have to gulp air as he pulled back, no choice but to hold her breath as he went to his balls.

Her daughter milked and tweaked her nipple as Jack's grunted and his rhythm broke. Inflamed herself now, with her nipples sending orgasm after orgasm through her pussy, she bobbed her head back and forth while sucking the cock buried in her mouth. She heard herself moaning as she tasted his pre-come. He was about to do it in her mouth. The pretty brunette, on her hands and knees, her long thick hair mussed, cascading around her face, grasped one of Jack's thighs as he hunched his cock back and forth in her mouth.

"Oh, wow," she heard her daughter say, as Jack groaned and thrust his cock to his balls in her mother's mouth, then pulled back and rapid fucked the head of his cock into Diana's lips. Jack stopped, rammed forward, burying his cock to the balls, groaned, jerked and shot his jism into Diana's sucking mouth.

Diana gulped and swallowed as her mouth filled with the salt-bitter taste of his come. Her tits jiggled as he fucked her mouth with abandon as he got his rocks off. As she dutifully swallowed three long spurts, he shivered, slowed his pace, then stopped. When she started to slide her mouth off his cock, he said, "No. Keep your mouth on my cock."

Jack eased himself back on the bed, pulling her with him until he was lying on his back and she was kneeling astride his legs. Thrusting slightly and urging her with his hand, she continued sliding her mouth over his cock, thrusting it in and out of her mouth.

"That's right Baby. Keep sucking. Just nice and slow until my dick gets all the way hard again."

Not realizing that Jack had taken a one hundred milligram Viagra to supplement his nineteen-year-old libido, Diana was amazed. Damn. I've heard of excited before, but doesn't his dick ever stay down. He isn't shooting nearly as much semen as he did, but he seems to manage every time, anyway.

After a couple of minutes, Jack motioned to Arlene. "It's time for you to take your mother's place," he teased as he grasped her hand and pulled her toward him. Diana slipped her mouth off his now fully-hardened cock, feeling the fullness of her lips where they had swollen from the battering they had taken in sucking him.

"Jack, don't you ever get enough? You've fucked me and I sucked you off. Now leave my daughter alone."

Jack didn't even bother answering as he positioned Arlene above his cock. "Coach your daughter" he ordered. When Diana didn't instantly comply, he added. "Either show her how to suck cock, or I'll fuck you up your ass."

Diana sucked in her breath. She had never been fucked in her ass in her life, and she wasn't going to start now. "It isn't as bad as it looks, Darling," she told the hesitant teenager. "Just put your lips around it and move your head back and forth. Suck on it and then let off, then suck again, as you keep moving your head. Grip as tight as you can with your lips, but don't rub your teeth too hard against his cock."

Arlene hesitantly put her mouth against the head of Jack's cock. As she slightly opened her lips, he shoved in. Arlene gagged a little when Jack pushed to her throat, but she picked up the rhythm as Jack's hand on the back of her head guided her. Diana leaned back, touched her throbbing pussy as Jack raised his ass off the bed, skewering her daughter's mouth with his cock as he shoved to his balls. After a while, Arlene pulled back up a little too far, her mouth popped off for a second and Diana could see a stream of come shoot up as Arlene quickly pushed her mouth back down on the spurting cock. Her cheeks concaved inward as she sucked and released, sucked and released, just as her mother had taught her, swallowing between spurts.

Seeing the jism shoot into her daughter's mouth pushed Diana over the top and as her orgasm peaked, she managed to reach over and milk Arlene's nipple, bringing her off, too.

Arlene lay with Jack's limbering cock still in her mouth until he told her she could move. His wet cock flopped against his leg when the teenager let it slide from her lips.

"Wow," she said as she looked over her shoulder at her mother.

Diana laughed and passed her a cigarette. "You really have and extensive vocabulary, tonight," she teased, "and you have come on your chin." Arlene wiped it off and licked her finger, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Sobering for a moment, Diana thought of Jeff. She hoped he was getting his rocks off in some waitress. It appeased her conscience a little to think he might be. Then looking back at Jack, she slid her finger across her come-wet pussy lips, gently touching her clit, unconsciously starting a slow rotation of her hips as she watched her daughter touching Jack's balls. His glistening cock, lying on his leg, began to swell and stir.

Abruptly, Jack looked at his watch and sat up. "Shit, I was supposed to be somewhere an hour ago." Getting up, he slipped his pants and shoes on, then leaned over to kiss both of the females. "I'll see you girls tomorrow. Duty calls, and if I want to keep my job, I've got to see what's wrong with the power in an apartment that's supposed to be rented tomorrow." He picked up the camera and in short order was gone.

Diana fluffed up her pillow and leaned back. "Well, so much for being faithful to Jeff," she said, half sarcastically. "Here, I lecture you about stopping this thing with Arnie and Jack, and a few minutes later I come so hard I faint. Not a very good example for my daughter," she finished, sardonically, tears glistening in her eyes.

Arlene bounced down beside her, then bounced again to watch her mothers breasts jiggle.

"Quit that. Arlene, I'm serious. It looks like I'm doing a fantastic job of screwing up my life, not to mention my marriage."

"Ah, Mom. Take it easy. Neither of us planned this. But I sure have enjoyed it, and you know you did too."

Just as Diana started to continue, Arnie stepped into the room. Diana squealed and tried to cover her breasts with one arm, her groin with the other, while trying to pull the spread loose at the same time.

Arnie, with a strange look on his face, held up his camera and said, "Not a whole lot of use in trying to cover yourself Mrs. Matthews. I've been watching you two suck and fuck Jack, and I took plenty of pictures with my digital to prove it. I didn't have the flash on, to keep you from noticing, so some of them are a little blurred from the slow shutter speed, but I've got two crystal clear ones with Jack's cock rammed up your pussy with your legs rapped around him."

Diana snatched for the camera, but Arnie moved it out of the way and said, "Surely you don't think I'm that stupid. I took the memory chip out and hid it, then brought the camera in here to prove I had it with me"

Diana was shaking, but Arlene just lay back on the bed and played with the cigarette pack, refusing to look at Arnie.

Diana glanced at the camera and tried to say something. "Arnie, I..."

"Arnie, I," Arnie mimicked in a high voice. Then in his normal voice, although it was shaking, "A few days ago, I had a girl that was a virgin. Almost every night for the last month, we met out back. She wouldn't let me make love to her, but she said she loved me and told me that she would marry me when we got out of school. Then Jack came along and fucked her. She came harder for him then she ever has for me. Then she wouldn't let me come in her, and promised that she wouldn't ever let Jack fuck her again. Then she does, and screws his brains out to boot. I saw Jack come out of this house this morning, and I got my camera and watched all day until I saw him go back in here tonight. I gave him a few minutes, then followed him in. And what did I see? Not only my 'girl' fucking him, but you too, Mrs. Matthews. I'm sick of getting messed over."

Arnie was silent for a moment, then continued, "Jack got what he wanted," he said, pointing toward Arlene's pussy, "by threatening to show you and your husband a picture of us necking. Then he threatened to show the principal and your husband the pictures of you two masturbating. I figure if it worked for him, it will work for me. I've got a bunch of pictures of you fucking Jack, Mrs. Matthews. Now, I'm the one that doesn't have anything to lose. Jack already has my girl. So get on your hands and knees Mrs. Matthews, 'cause I'm going to pump that pussy just like Jack did. If you give me any shit, I'll tell your husband everything, from start to finish, and I'll prove it with my pictures."

Mouth set in a grim line, Arnie put the camera on the dresser and continued. "No use fucking up my camera," as he noticed Diana looking at it. "I told you the pictures were not in it. I took the memory chip outside and hid it where nobody can find it but me. If you fuck with me, I'll put those pictures out on the net, send them to the school, and make sure your husband gets eight by tens."

Diana glanced at her daughter still lying on the bed, nude. "Arnie," she tried again. "I know that you've been hurt, but sometimes things just work out that way. You'll find another girl, and things will be better the next time."

Arnie kicked off his shoes and unbuckled his pants.

Diana sat up in bed and the movement jerked the spread from her breasts, since Arlene was still on top of it. Before she was able to pull it back up, Arnie reached over and yanked it down below her knees. As she started to scramble for it, Arlene shouted, "Stop it, Mother. This is ridiculous. He's just watched us fucking and sucking Jack. Now you're trying to cover yourself with a spread." Looking at Arnie, she said, "I still love you. I know that you don't believe me right now, and I don't blame you, but I do." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she started to say something else, but stopped.

Diana succeeded in pulling the spread back up to her breasts, but then realized that Arnie had dropped his pants. As he pulled his shorts off, his dick stood against his belly. Long and slender, it was not nearly as big around as Jack's, but it had enough length to be respectable. She guessed that in a couple of years, his cock would rival Jack's.

Blustering, Diana faced Arnie. "You need to get your pants on and get out of here, young man. I'm not going to put up with this. I'll call your mother."

Nevertheless, Arnie didn't act like the Arnie that Diana was used to. Red-faced, he stepped up to her, grasped his dick and waved it in her face. "Call her," he said. "Before you get through talking to her, I'll be out of here, and I'll print those pictures at a buddy's house and make more digital copies than you will ever find. Before I go home, the whole neighborhood will know. And I know where the principal lives," he continued. "I'll bet he would be interested in what you and your daughter do together while your husband is out of town. Before my mother finds me, everybody will know. And I'll be waiting on your husband when he gets back. No matter what you tell him, I'll eventually get to him, and the pictures will tell their own story, whether he believes me or not."

"Arnie, you wouldn't do that. You're too nice a person for that," Diana said in desperation.

"I used to be a nice person," he admitted, "but what did it get me?" Hardening his voice, he continued, "Get on your hands and knees," he said through gritted teeth, so mad there were tears in his eyes. "I'm going to fuck your pussy just like Jack did. And I'm going to jackoff in you, too. Pun definitely fucking intended." he gasped, almost sobbing. "When Arlene finally did give it to me, she made me use a rubber, then turned around and fucked Jack without one," he finished, visibly shaking.

Arlene slid over to the side of the bed and put her arms around Arnie. "I'll do it with you, and I won't make you use a rubber," she desperately said. She had never even heard Arnie curse, let alone seen him act the way he was acting now.

Arnie looked at Arlene a moment. "You always make me do anything you want, but this time, I'll get my way. I'm going to fuck your mother and then you're going to suck me off just like you did Jack."

Bluffing, scared out of her wits, Diana faced Arnie. "Young man, what I did was wrong, but you're not going to come in here and fuck me, and that's final. You and Arlene can sit down and talk this out, but you need to get your clothes back on right now, or I'm going to call your mother, regardless of what you do."

Arnie stood looking at Diana for a moment, then face set, he moved to pick up his pants. "I'm tired of this shit," he mumbled as he jerked on his pants leg trying to get it right-side-out again.

There was silence for a moment as Arnie, furious, yanked at the pants leg, so mad he had little coordination.

"Mother," Arlene cried, "I don't want him showing those pictures to the principal. Everybody in the school will know about it." She suddenly sucked in her breath. "The principal will tell DHR, and they will take me away from you. They'll put me in a foster home," she wailed.

"Ah, shit," Diana said under her breath. Throwing the spread off, she turned over on her belly and raised herself to her knees and elbows, her ass at the side of the bed.

Arnie had one leg of the pants on as Arlene put her arms around him again. "Please Arnie, don't show those pictures to anybody. I couldn't stand that," she pleaded, pressing her breasts against him.

Arnie looked at her, then at her mother. "You put my dick in for me," he said, "Then when I'm done, you suck me until I come in your mouth. And I want to see you suck your mother's titties while I'm fucking her. And I want her," he said, nodding toward Diana, "to hold a cigarette in her mouth just like she did for Jack, and I want you to hold one in your hand and be sexy with it, just like you did a while ago," he continued, grim-faced. "I want to see two sluts — two fucking whores — getting ready to be fucked. From now on, every time I get a hard-on, I'd better have a mouth or a pussy wrapped around my dick. Don't even think about spitting my come out."

Arnie stood on one foot, trying to get the pants off his leg. "Oh, shit," Diana said, shivering as he finally succeeded and roughly grabbed her hips.

"Get the cigarette," he said as he pushed his cock against Diana's pussy and held. "I said I was going to do it to you just like Jack did, and I meant just that," his voice breaking. "That includes your coming and fucking me back. Don't think you're just going to stay there without giving me some real pussy," he finished, jerking Diana's hips. "Get that cigarette and look like the whore that you are."

Arlene, worried now, slid over next to her mother. "Don't you hurt my mother. I've already promised you I would make it up to you. I..."

"How in the fuck are you going to make it up to me?" he yelled, his voice almost shrill. "Are you going to grow another cherry?"

Arlene started crying, but Arnie was not impressed and ignored the tears. "Hand her a cigarette, Bitch." Looking at Diana he said, "You had better look sexy with it, just like you did for Jack; otherwise, I'll just fuck you and then show the pictures, anyway. I'm tired of being jerked around," he added, almost to himself, taking a deep breath to keep from crying.

Diana stretched for the pack, took one out, and daintily placed the cigarette in her lips.

"Now put my dick in for me," he hissed at Arlene.

"Do what he says, Baby," Diana said to her daughter wanting to calm Arnie, afraid of what he might do.

Arlene reached over, tentatively lined Arnie's cock up with her mother's pussy. Without preamble, Arnie thrust to his balls. Firmly grasping Diana's hips, he held himself as deep inside her as he could and said, motioning to Arlene, "Lay on your back and suck her tits like you mean it."

Arlene started to protest again, but her mother interrupted, her voice slightly muffled by the cigarette. "Do as he says. I don't know how all this will end, but I don't even have to guess what will happen if he shows those pictures around." As Arlene's mouth sought her mother's nipple, Diana turned slightly as she had for Jack, giving Arnie a profile of her face.

Arnie, still madder than he had ever been in his life, furiously stroked his cock up Mrs. Matthews' pussy. Diana wasn't going to risk getting him any madder by holding back, so she squeezed his cock with her pussy. "Suck me," she wailed to Arlene as Arnie wildly slammed his cock up Diana. As her daughter's mouth pulled hard on her nipple, Diana pushed her pussy up in the air as far as she could, and tried to hold the cigarette in what she hoped was a sexy pose.

Arnie didn't get a dozen more strokes before his seed pumped out of his balls, and spewed out of his dick into Diana's pussy. There was a startled yelp out of Diana as his hot seed splashed against her womb so unexpectedly, then Arlene bit down on her nipple and Diana was coming. She milked his dick with her pussy and shivered as he sprayed a long stream into her. She collapsed forward as he slumped onto her, forcing her daughter to scramble out of the way. She felt his dick jerk a few more times, then he lay, breathing hard, letting his cock soak in her drenched pussy.

After a couple of minutes, Diana sighed and started to roll over, but Arnie, still furious, yelled at her, "Don't you move. I've just started. I'm enjoying having my dick up you. Ever since I can remember, you've stuck your nose up in the air — been too good to hardly speak to me — then you fuck Jack and come so hard you faint, and you still try that 'better than thou' look of yours when I say something about fucking you. I don't really give a shit what you do with Jack," he said, readjusting her hips and ramming his dick in and out a couple of times, "but from now on, I'm going to come in you whenever I feel like it. If you don't like it, I'll tell the world, if I want to. I've lost my girl, anyway," he said, glancing with tears in his eyes at Arlene. "If my girl is going to fuck Jack, and she and I can't make love anymore, then I'm going to forget love, and fuck her, and you, anytime I please."

Arnie thrust a couple more times into Diana, his dick coming back to full hardness, come dribbling out of her pussy as he stroked her. He drew all the way back and rammed forward with all his strength, bending his knees and angling his cock slightly upward, slamming his pelvis against her pussy, trying to hit her womb.

"Uuump. Oh, Arnie, that hurts," Diana complained, trying to move her ass away from his cock. Arnie didn't pay any attention, but glared at Arlene as his strokes picked up. "You never did get that cigarette like I told you," he bit out between clenched teeth. "You seemed like you knew what to do with it while you were fucking Jack on the picnic table."

Arlene whimpered. "I'm so sorry. Darling, I do love you, no matter what you think. I just can't help myself with Jack. He just doesn't take no for an answer..." She realized what she had just said, and looked sheepishly at Arnie.

"Because I'm a nice guy, and try to please you," Arnie interjected, "then Jack gets to fuck you — shoot off in you — and I get a little pussy every now and then, that is, if I'm a good boy and put a rubber on." He glanced meaningfully at the cigarette pack, then rammed furiously into Diana several times. Arnie thought they looked a little sexy when they smoked, or held an unlit cigarette like Jack made them, but be damned if he was going to let them get away without doing everything they had done for Jack.

After a moment, Arlene took out a cigarette and held it up like she did for Jack. Arnie grasped Diana's breasts and milked them. As he stripped the nipples, the inevitable happened and she came.

"Get around here," Arnie commanded Arlene. "I'm going to come in a minute," he said, holding his cock deep in Diana, "and when I'm about to, I'm going to stick it in your mouth, and you're going to swallow my come, like you did Jack's."

Diana took the cigarette out of her mouth, but held it up as if it were the first cigarette she had ever smoked, hoping Arnie would be pleased. She was beginning to really be afraid Arnie would show the pictures, no matter what they did for him, especially if they made him any madder. "Arlene, do what he says, and suck him really well," she added. "You've got a lot to make up to him."

Arlene glanced at her mother and started to say something, but thought better of it when she saw her mother's slight head shake. Instead, she placed the cigarette in her mouth as she had when she had fucked Jack on the picnic table, and rubbed her hand down Arnie's hip, as he thrust into her mother. His pace picked up.

"He's going to do it Baby," Diana cautioned her daughter. "Get ready to suck him off."

As Arlene took the cigarette out of her lips and arched it high with her hand, Arnie short-stroked Diana and began to tremble. "Here it comes," he gasped, as he yanked himself out of the woman. He grabbed the back of Arlene's head with one hand as she opened her mouth, then shoved forward with his hips, sinking his cock to his balls in her mouth. Arlene flinched and tried to gag as his dick went down her throat. Arnie put both hands on her head and furiously fucked her mouth. His cock bulged as her mouth sucked hard and released. He could feel the tug all the way to his balls. He stroked twice and held, his cock jerked, and he emptied his seed down the girl's throat as she repeatedly swallowed.

Arlene desperately tried to make it good for him, partly because of her guilt for fucking and sucking Jack, and also because she feared he would show the pictures to anyone he pleased. She hadn't realized she was excited by the cock fucking her mouth until her orgasm hit. Her pussy clenched, her nipples tingled and she came. She sucked hard again and more of his sour jism gushed out of his dick into her mouth. He reached down and yanked hard on her breast, causing pain, a yelp, and another orgasm. As she continued to suck, now allowed to move her head back and forth, the last of his come dribbled into her mouth. She stilled the movement of her head, just letting his dick soak in her mouth. After a couple of moments, he sighed, pulled his now limber dick out of her mouth, and rolled over on the bed.

Arlene brushed the hair back out of her face, wiped her mouth, and picked up the lighter. When she was sure Arnie was watching, she placed the cigarette saucily in her mouth and brought the lighter slowly to the cigarette. As she dragged gently, she leaned over brushing her nipples against his chest as she replaced the lighter on the head of the bed. She then lay back on the bed, tapped the ash off in the ashtray, and holding the cigarette up, massaged her clit with the other hand, bringing herself quickly off. Arnie's dick stood up like a pole before she had finished coming.

Arlene put the cigarette in the ashtray and lay back on the bed, spreading her legs. She looked at Arnie. "I can't give you my virginity, and I can't take back what I have done, but I want your cock inside me and I want your sperm inside my womb. I guess I'm just a slut, but I do love you. I guess Jack will come back and fuck us again, or maybe he will show the pictures to Dad, and maybe Mom and Dad will get a divorce, but right now, I want you inside me."

If she impressed Arnie with her little speech, Diana mused, he didn't show it. He moved between Arlene's legs, put her legs on his shoulders, lined up his cock, and rammed to his balls on the first stroke. He must have hit her cervix, because Arlene squealed and wiggled her ass, but Arnie just kept pounding away until he froze in her, grunted and pumped what was left of his sperm into her. Arlene squealed again and came just as violently.

Without saying a word, Arnie got up, wiped his cock off on the spread and put his pants on.

Arlene looked at him and said, "Arnie I..."

"Don't say a fucking thing. I'll be back when my dick gets hard. If Jack is here, the one that isn't fucking him, better be fucking me." Without another word, he picked up his camera and stormed out of the room, leaving the house.

"Ah shit," Diana said.

"Yeah," Arlene agreed.

Both females just lay on the bed without talking for a few minutes. "Let's get it over with," Diana said, heading for the bathroom and the douche bag.

A few minutes later, both had douched twice and used two applicators of spermicide each (twice the recommended amount). The tube was almost empty.

"Get some clothes on," Diana said to her daughter, "We're going to get some more spermicide. A lot more. From now until my husband gets home, our pussies are going to have spermicide in them before the sperm injection."

Diana opened her dresser, pulled out a pair of shorts, then went into the closet for a top. She wasn't choosey. She dressed quickly, then slipped a pad in her panties. Yelling to Arlene, who was in her own room changing, she said, "Come here a moment."

When Arlene looked into the bedroom, her mother handed her a pad. "Put this in your pants. No use drooling all over our clothes. We may as well pick up a box of these. Between the sperm and the spermicide, it looks like we'll be using a lot of them. I can't seem to keep either of those guys from fucking us, but be darned if I'm going to give up my marriage without a fight. Having another man impregnate me surely won't help my chances any."

Arlene would normally have not done it in front of her mother, but she shrugged, pulled her shorts and panties down a little, slipped the pad under her pussy and pulled her clothes back up.

"You ready?" Diana asked as she finished slipping on her shoes.

"Yeah, I'm ready," Arlene said, weakly.

Diana hugged her. "Let's pick up our stuff and then stop by the movie store. I think that one on 5th is open late. There's no use sitting around crying. If nothing else," she said with a forced grin, "we definitely got a good fucking."

Arlene giggled as they walked down the hallway and into the garage. "Can I drive, Mom?"

"No," Diana said, emphatically. "I've had about all the excitement that I can stand for one day."

Arlene made a face behind her mother's back as Diana opened the car door.



-------

Chapter 4

Jeff walked out of the plush office, nodded to the receptionist, then made his way out to the elevator. One more hurdle behind him. Only one more left to go. Years of work would soon pay off — in spades. He could hardly maintain a professional air as he waited for the elevator. He wanted to turn cartwheels, yell at the top of his lungs. I'm about to be a millionaire. Somehow he continued with a look of boredom as two other people walked up to wait with him. The ride down took forever. Finally in his rental car in the parking lot, he beat his fists on the steering wheel and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Yes!"

He found a secluded spot under a tree at the edge of the lot and parked, leaving the air conditioner running. He had to call Diana, even though he still might not tell her about their good fortune until it was a done deal. Things could fall apart at the last moment, though he doubted it at this juncture. They had to have his invention and the software to go with it. The only way to get it was to buy it from him.

He had been a freelance engineer for several years now, and also sold equipment to law enforcement throughout the country. He had done all the work on his invention in his small shop at home, rented lab, or motel room. No one else owned a piece of this. He had waited until his patents and copyrights were firm, all the while enhancing his system. It made modern combat aircraft radar look like fifties, black and white TV compared to today's high definition, color. The outfit he just left was one of the government's biggest electronic contractors. They badly wanted his stuff. He had hired patent attorneys who assured him that they would protect his interests. He wasn't going to be screwed by big business using his invention then tying things up in court for the next ten years.

In addition to the sizeable fortune up front, he would receive royalties on every unit produced; his attorneys would make sure he did, since they would get a continuing cut. Plus, as the technology trickled down to the public, he would get the same cut of any of those units. Even if he was screwed out of the royalties, he would still have enough out of the front money for Diana, Arlene and himself, to have anything they wanted, within reason, for the rest of their lives.

Despite how hard the first years of their marriage had been on Diana, she had finished school after having the baby, got a job, and helped him work his way through college. When he quit the firm and a good paying position to go out on his own, she had stuck out the hard times with him, never complaining, always encouraging.

He had been away from home a lot in the last few years, both with the engineering job, and building his invention, as well as the infrequent assignments with the team. But the engineering jobs had paid well, when he got them, and he made a little profit with his supply company. Diana thought that the engineering was all he was doing. Oh, she knew he was always "tinkering around" in his lab when he was home, but that was about it.

Now he would soon be able to make it up to her for being gone so much of the time. They could buy a new house — a big house — and he would be home all the time. They could travel. Arlene could have the best schools, or go to school on the internet, or have a tutor if she wanted. He wasn't into buying yachts, or having expensive parties, into blowing money for the hell of it, but they would soon be able to have the good life without money worries.

He picked up his phone, but he would not tell her yet, just check in and tell her he would be home in a few days with some time off. He dialed and waited, and was about to hang up when she answered, breathless. They talked for a while, but she seemed preoccupied. He had heard something in the background that ran chills up his spine. She had casually commented that the TV had been on too loud, and he went with it. She never could lie worth a damn. He cut the conversation short, said his goodbye and hung up. He hadn't gotten around to telling her he would be off sometime soon, he just wanted to get off the phone. His great day had just evaporated. That had been a man's voice in the background just as she had answered the phone. If there wasn't something wrong, why had she tried to cover up with the TV routine? Shit. Looks like I've been gone too long.

He dialed the airline as he thought. He could be home in hours. It wouldn't hurt to let this bunch stew for a few days. He had already threatened to sell his stuff to their biggest competitor, and he was serious when he made the threat. If they thought he was getting cold feet at the last moment and out looking for a better deal, they might hurry up their act, or maybe even come up with more cash. Win. Win. And he was going to win at home, too. Nobody was going to slide in while he was out working his ass off. Not this late in the game.

He lucked up and got a flight out in two hours, though at a premium rate. He didn't care; he wanted to be home as soon as possible.

The four-hour flight seemed like many more, but he had plenty of time to plan.

-------

Driving a rental car, instead of having Diana pick him up, he swung into the parking lot and entered the detective agency owned by a friend. He was a retired cop, a good guy, and a friend. He also owed Jeff for work that Jeff had done for him on several occasions. He hadn't, of course, charged Wilson anything for the work.

As he walked into the office, the receptionist looked up from her computer. "Well! It's been a long time since you've been around Mr. Matthews."

"Hi Alice. Is Fred in?"

Without comment, she picked up the phone, spoke for a moment, then said, "Go on in. He's eating his lunch at his desk."

Jeff knocked once on the door and went in. Wilson was a graying almost sixty-year-old who used to be one of the best homicide detectives around. He stood up to shake Jeff's hand and almost bumped his large drink off the desk with his paunch. He caught the drink and grinned. "The wife is always telling me I need to go on a diet and start exercising." Sitting the drink back up, grinning, he continued, "She just might be right."

Wilson went into the adjoining bath and came back with a towel. Wiping the little that had spilled, he said, "Jeff, that frown has been on your face so long, it looks like it's going to be permanent. And you look gray as a ghost. What's up my friend?"

Jeff sat down in one of the chairs facing Wilson's desk. "Fred, I need to borrow four of your high resolution cameras and your van."

Wilson looked at Jeff, intently, for a several seconds. "Shit," he said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too."

The detective opened a drawer on his desk and tossed Jeff a set of keys. Getting up, his lunch forgotten, he said, "Come on, the cameras and the rest of the stuff you'll need are in the storeroom." As they passed his receptionist he instructed, "If anybody calls, I'm out until I tell you different."

"Yes, sir."

-------

A couple of hours later, Jeff was parked down the street in front of his house in a very much used "plumbing" van. For the next several hours, he sat in the back of the van in the sweltering heat looking at the side door of his house on a monitor that obviously cost plenty. The inside of the dilapidated van looked like the bridge of the Enterprise, Jeff thought. The camera would zoom until the doorknob filled the screen. He played with the camera until he grew bored and just backed the zoom down and watched his house.

It grew dark and the outside lights came on automatically. He could still see anything he needed to with the streetlights and his outside house lights, but the camera had a light enhancement if he needed it. Fred had given him a crash course in setting everything up, although Jeff could have figured it out for himself, but Wilson was thorough, cautioning him about double checking everything. He stepped back and looked at Jeff just before they parted.

"It's easy to make mistakes when you're emotional. One of the things that kept me alive through thirty years with the police department and three gunfights, was to keep my emotions in check. Clinical, detached," he cautioned. "Treat it like it's your job. Do it right, or don't do it at all. Don't fuck up!" With that, he turned and walked back into his office without a backward glance.

Nothing happened until almost eight o'clock, and it happened so quick that Jeff almost missed it. He backed the tape up and ran it again. Then again, and froze it. "That's the punk down the street," he said aloud. He watched the tape yet again as Jack appeared from the back of the house, stepped up to the side door, opened it without knocking, and went inside.

"Damn," Jeff muttered, "Why couldn't I have been wrong?"

The side door opened into a short hall, then into what used to be their full basement. Now it was one big room that they called their playroom, or sometimes, den. It had two couches, three large overstuffed chairs, a pool table, a ping pong table, a giant TV, exercise equipment, and about everything else they could think of, and afford, to put down there.

He had planned to put two of the cameras in the playroom, one in his bedroom, and one out by the pool. The one by the pool would be easy. He could put it in the shrubbery with no problem. He would have to be careful putting the cameras in the playroom. But he didn't know how he was going to manage the camera in his and Diana's bedroom, without being caught. He hated to think about sitting in that hot van waiting for Diana and Arlene to go out, but he might just have to.

There was a gnawing in his guts as he checked around the van for anyone close enough to see him. He got out with his case, walked casually across the street, through the vacant lot to the back, then up to his side door. He carefully started to turn the knob, but it was now locked. He slipped his key in, muffling the sound as much as he could, and quietly opened the door a crack.

Putting his ear close to the door, he listened for a while, then eased it open and made his way noiselessly inside. The hall light was on, and as he eased up to the playroom door, he realized that only the light at the steps leading to the main part of the house was on. Even so, he took his time searching out the playroom as best he could in the poor light. Good, they're upstairs,  he thought.

He put one of the cameras at the far end on a shelf near a power outlet. That way he didn't have to worry about replacing batteries. He adjusted the antenna, walked to the other end of the room and checked the reception on the small monitor. He touched the remote and the camera panned back and forth and zoomed perfectly. Now for the second one.

There was a storage room at one side of the big room, ninety degrees to the first camera. If he could set the second camera up in there, the two would cover the entire basement. He went into the storage room and placed the camera on a shelf, moving some junk to set on both sides of it. The junk wouldn't interfere with its operation and would tend to conceal the camera should someone enter the storage room, which he doubted they would. An extension cord, and this camera were also attached to an outlet.

He left the door open about halfway and was testing out the cameras when he heard the back door close on the other side of the house. Had someone left, or someone else entered? He just sat and waited, knowing he couldn't put cameras upstairs now without someone seeing him. He couldn't decide which was worse: imagining what was going on up there, or knowing for certain.

He passed the time playing with the cameras, then sat brooding. He had just gotten up to walk around and stretch his legs, when he heard someone coming down the stairs. Quickly stepping back and looking through the crack at the back of the door jam, he could see most of the playroom through the crack, plus everything showed up on the small monitor, and he had no doubt, on the large monitor in the van as well.

As he squatted down, his knees popped. In the stillness in the storage room, it sounded as loud as gunshots to him. He flinched, sat down on the floor and waited.

The lights came on and Diana came down the stairs without a stitch on. She had one of her long 120 cigarettes in her mouth. She walked purposely over to the end table near one of the couches, pulled out a drawer and took out a lighter. She did have on one article of clothing, her husband noted: a pair of spike heels. This is not your average casual attire, he thought sardonically. His cock stirred in his pants as he saw her. It had been over a week since he had some of her pussy, but with a sickening in his stomach, he seriously doubted if it had been that long since she had sex.

He heard a man's voice, then footsteps. The voice asked, "Where did you get off to, Sweetheart?" the voice dripping with something. Contempt, sarcasm? The guy he saw enter the house came into view and continued, "My dick will get up again in a minute and I want to put a load up your pussy." He was wearing a pair of socks.

Gut gnawing rage pumped adrenalin into Jeff's system as he thought of Diana fucking this guy, having fucked this guy — they were too casual for it to be otherwise. Jeff's stomach felt like it had just gotten a dose of pure acid. His hands shook. He didn't know whether to get up and kill the guy, or cry. Instead, he thought about what Wilson had said: "Don't fuck up. Treat it like a job." I have gone this far; I'll go the rest of the way.

Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, Diana spun around when Jack entered the room. She pointed her finger at the muscular nineteen-year-old. "Tonight is the last time. This is it. I mean it."

Before Jack could comment, Arlene and Arnie came down the stairs and into the room. Arlene didn't even have on shoes like her mother. It was the first time he had seen his daughter nude since she was a small kid. Seeing her in a bikini and seeing her nude were drastically different things, he decided. She looked like a slightly younger version of her mother, high-set, long conical breasts that bounced and jiggled as she walked, and a beautiful face with pouting, kissable lips. Both were brunettes with thick wavy hair to their waists. Diana's breasts were still a little larger, but he would bet that Arlene would catch her in a year or two. He could see her pussy lips peaking out through sparse hair like her mother's.

Shit,  he thought, What am I doing looking at my daughter? but then he looked harder. If he hadn't completely lost his mind, that shiny wetness on her pussy and upper leg was come. Arnie was as nude as anyone else, but his cock was standing up almost to his belly, while Jack's flopped against his legs as he walked. It didn't take a genius to figure out who had just finished fucking Arlene.

"Mom, did you find a lighter?"

With the comment, Jeff realized that Arlene had an unlit cigarette in her hand. Shit, I go off for a week and my whole world changes. When did she start smoking? And what is Diana doing letting her smoke?

Jack spoke up. "You two don't need a lighter just yet. I want to see you priss around with those cigarettes awhile first."

Arnie walked up behind Arlene, put his arms around her and tugged on her nipples. He pulled harder, making Arlene wince. "Ouch, Arnie. Not so rough."

"'Rough' my ass. Jack can do anything he wants and you don't complain. Don't start with me, Arlene." With that, he roughly milked her nipples. Fine streams of milk spurted out from her breasts. After a couple of seconds, Arlene whimpered a little, and shivered.

Damn. She just had an orgasm,  Jeff thought. And she gives milk like her mother.

Jack turned to Arnie when he heard Arlene. "I thought I told you that you could watch, but not touch, little boy," he said with a sneer.

"Jack," Arnie shouted, "You've bullied me for the last time. Yeah, I know you can beat my ass. I'm only sixteen and you're nineteen. But I can last long enough for me to call the cops. Then how are you going to explain this? You've fucked my girl, my used-to-be girl, and I can't stop you, but I'm going to get mine, too. I've got pictures now, just like you. Pictures of you fucking Arlene and Mrs. Matthews. I've got them stored on a web page on the net and on two other computers. If something happens to me, they get e-mailed to the police and other people. You might beat me up and even kill me, but you will burn for it if you do," he said, defiantly. "I've lost my girl, but I'm tired of being left out on the pussy."

Jack shoved Diana out of the way and started toward Arnie. "That did it, punk. You ain't got shit. I'm fixing to kill your wormy ass."

Both women yelled at the same time. "He has got pictures, Jack," Arlene said. "He came in with his digital camera, right after you left the other day. He told us exactly what we had been doing. And, and ... he fucked us the same way you did. Don't Jack. Don't hurt Arnie. I still love him. But I sure don't want those pictures to go the principal at the school, and they will, as well as the police if you mess with him. I know him, and he means it."

Jack hesitated as Diana joined in. "Right now, you've got all the pussy you want, but if you mess with him, you'll wind up in jail with the shit descending on Arlene and me, too."

Jack was so mad he shook. He pointed his finger at Arnie. "All right, but you better stay out of my way," he yelled.

Arnie just laughed at him and again milked Arlene's nipples.

Jeff shook his head. What in the fuck is going on? He could end this and stomp Jack's ass in the process. His military training, along with years in the dojo assured him of that, but what did Jack have on the two women? If Jeff jumped in now he would never get all of Arnie's pictures, and what did Jack have? As much as he wanted to stop this right now, he was going to have to wait. And he knew what waiting would entail.

Arnie had just confirmed that Jack had been fucking his wife and daughter, and he already said that he was going to fuck Diana when his dick got back up again. The sick feeling came back. He wasn't sure he could stand this.

I've got to watch this asshole fuck my wife. If I stomp his ass or kill him now, he will still have his pictures or whatever he has over Diana. What in the hell did Diana do that gave him this much leverage over her? Did he catch her fucking somebody else? There is too much shit that I don't know.

Jeff looked away from the scene in front of him, but there wasn't anything for him to look at but the monitor, and it was showing him the picture from the camera near him. To pass the time and try to get his mind off what was going on, he changed to the other camera, panned and zoomed, but the earphones he wore, and the mikes he had planted near the couch and pool table continued to bring him the conversation and every sound Jack, Arnie and the women made. When he removed the phones, he could still hear them almost as well. He put the phones back on and looked out the crack, steeling himself as best he could.

Jack was now kissing Diana and foundling her strutted breasts, pulling on her nipples and making her milk spray. Jeff's stomach threatened to rebel. That was the last thing he needed: for them to hear him throwing up and realize someone was watching them. Jeff didn't know whether the upset stomach was caused by watching this prick fondle his wife, or the anger that threatened to take control at any second now. Oh fuck, I want to kill that bastard so bad!

Jack's cock had swollen some, but still wasn't all the way up. Maybe the bastard won't be able to get his dick up. Fat chance. With those two in the room, a dead man could get a hard-on.

"Get down on your knees and suck my cock. Get it hard," he ordered Diana, since he had run out of Viagra. "And while you're at it, hold that cigarette up and look sexy with it. You haven't done it for me in a couple of days, and I want to see you look really good, like you used to do when I walked by your house. You always stick your nose up in the air like your shit don't stink. Well Bitch, look like that now, but suck on my cock while you're doing it."

"Jack, you can fuck me, but that's it. I'm tired of your threats. When Jeff gets back, I'll tell him what happened. Everything. And he will kick your ass out of the state, if he lets you live. He may still divorce me," she said, sobbing, "and I may go to jail for having sex with my underage daughter, but I can't stand much more of this."

Jail? What in the fuck has she done? Sex with Arlene? Jeff's dick jumped, showing what it thought of the idea, much to his consternation.

Diana was sobbing now and Arlene was trying to hold her and comfort her, but Jack pushed Arlene back, almost gently, and pulled Diana to him. He rubbed her back and kissed her. Jeff was just about to believe that Jack had a decent streak in him when he saw where Jack's hands were. He was pulling on Diana's nipples and biting her neck, a surefire way to make her come.

As if on cue, Diana shivered. "No Jack ... No. Don't ... make ... me. Oh, shit." Diana shivered again as Jack pulled and rolled her nipples, and she came — violently. Her knees buckled and Jack pushed her down in front of him, grasped the back of her head and guided his semi-hard cock to her mouth.

"Come on Baby, the sooner my balls are emptied, the sooner I get out of here and leave you alone. But you're dreaming if you think this is the last time I fuck you and your daughter. And you're right. As soon as the school finds out you have been fucking your daughter, your ass is going to jail. And, I'm not scared of your husband. Shit, I outweigh him at least thirty pounds, and I'm young. I'll kick his ass and bust up his face for him. The best thing for you to do is keep on fucking and sucking, just like you've been doing. Besides, it's not so bad. I can't even count the orgasms you've had since I first grabbed your nipples in the kitchen."

Jack laughed as Diana opened her lips and he shoved his dick inside her mouth. Jeff could see her cheeks hollow as she sucked Jack's cock, slowly moving her head back and forth.

"That's right, Baby, like that," Jack said as he continued with his little story. "Yeah, you can blame your daughter for giving away your secret. When I sucked her tits and she started giving milk and coming, she told me that she probably gave milk because her mother did. I figured that if she had inherited that from you, then the orgasms she had when I pulled on her nipples probably came from you, too. So when you walked in on us in the kitchen, I just grabbed you and milked your tits. Your not having a bra on made it a lot easier for me. Sure enough, you came and spurted milk all over the inside of that tight blouse of yours. I knew I had you then. It didn't take two minutes to get your skirt up and your ass on that table.

"Ah, just thinking about that fucking is turning me on. Suck harder, and look prissy with that cigarette, dammit."

Diana held her long cigarette up with one hand while holding Jack's balls with the other. She sucked and released while moving her head back and forth, doing her best to make him cum, her thick hair swirling about her shoulders and face. All the while, Arnie was standing behind Arlene with his arms around her, kneading her breasts, and gently milking her nipples. She made a cooing sound and shivered as her orgasm hit.

Jack looked around at Arlene, and just said, "Like mother, like daughter," and sniggered.

After a couple of minutes, Jack pushed Diana away from his cock, which was now rock hard. "Get on the couch on your back, I want to make sure this load goes up your womb. I don't want to waste it down your throat. I want to make sure there is one in the oven when hubby comes home. I want to see your belly swell, knowing it's my kid kicking around in there," he said, laughing.

"Come on Baby, hang that cigarette out of your mouth just right. You know how I like it. You're so fucking hot, you're about to come again just sucking my cock. You'll come like a freight train when you feel my spunk hit your womb."

Diana didn't say anything, but Jeff could see the flush on her upper body increase at Jack's comments. Damn, she looks sexy. I never thought I would be turned on watching my wife give head to another man.

Jack helped her up, but Jeff could see Jack's hand working on one of Diana's nipples as he brought her off. Diana shivered and whimpered, falling against Jack as he guided her to the couch. She sat, then leaned back.

"All the way, Baby," Jack instructed. "And put one leg over the back of the couch. I want that pussy wide open for me."

Diana didn't argue and placed one leg over the back of the couch and the other foot on the floor, spreading her legs, offering her pussy.

Jack got between her legs on the couch, leaned over, putting his weight on his left forearm, as he guided his cock to her hole with his other hand. Diana hissed a quick intake of air as he rammed it halfway up her on the first stroke. Jeff almost came out of the supply room before he realized what he was doing. Somehow, he controlled himself and stayed hidden.

Jack's muscular body rippled as he pulled his ass back and shoved again, then again. On the next stroke, Jeff could see Jack's balls resting on his wife's ass. Shit, he's all the way inside her.

Jack rotated his ass and gave her a few short, hunching strokes, just barely moving.

This caused her to moan softly and as Jack full-stroked her a couple of times, her hips rotated and counter-stroked with him. She was looking him straight in the eye now, and she was obviously trying to make herself look more sexy with the cigarette. After a moment, she pulled on it, hollowing her cheeks a little as Jack said, "Yeah, Baby. Like that. I want to see that snobby look on your face."

Diana wrapped her legs around his hips and lifted her ass to him on every stroke. Damn, she does look haughty. This isn't just Jack fucking her, she's fucking him back stroke for stroke,  Jeff thought.

Jeff remembered what Jack had said about putting one in the oven. Diana hadn't been on the pill for a couple of years. If this guy had been fucking her, surely she had done something to prevent him from knocking her up. Ah, shit. Now I've got to see my druggist friend and call in another debt. If this bastard has knocked my wife or daughter up, I'll have to kill him. Maybe the morning after pills will take care of it. Jeff clinched his fists until his hands were numb while Jack stroked his wife. Jeff could hear Diana grunting every time Jack bottomed out in her pussy. Shit.

Jeff glanced around to see where his daughter was, and saw her bent over the pool table with Arnie stroking her from behind. She had her long, 120 centered in her mouth.

Jeff zoomed the second camera on them. He had already set the camera near him to give the best picture of Jack and Diana just before Jack mounted Diana. What the fuck is going on? I always thought that Diana looked sexy when she smoked, but I never thought about something like this. Damn, but both of them do look sexy, though.

Seeing his daughter being fucked by her boyfriend was something else, as well. Arlene was pulling on her own nipples and there was already a stain on the table where she was leaking fine streams of milk. Arnie was giving it all he had. His cock wasn't as big around as Jack's, but as best Jeff could tell, it was of a decent length. Arlene seemed to think so too. She was grunting with each stroke, just as her mother was.

Arnie picked up his speed, hanging onto Arlene's hips as he changed the angle, bent his knees a little, and fucked hard into her, increasing his pace. Arlene squealed, pulled on her cigarette like her mother, and came. Arnie was only a couple of seconds behind her. He gave her a few more very rapid strokes, then a couple of slow ones, before pushing all the way in and holding. Suddenly he rabbit hunched her and held, groaning loudly. Arlene wailed and came again as she felt his stream of sperm splash against her sensitive cervix, mixing with Jack's load that was already in her.

When she thought about having two guys' sperm in her at the same time, she yanked harshly on her nipples and came again, collapsing on the table. Arnie pushed forward, lying on her hips, his jerking cock embedded deep in her pussy, feeling the fluttering sensation as Arlene's pussy sucked his cock. He wondered whether she was already knocked up by Jack, or if his sperm was even now burrowing into her egg. His cock dribbled out the last of his load, but stayed up, pushed up against something hard inside her that he knew had to be her womb.

If I knock her up, she'll have to marry me. But how will I know if the baby is Jack's or mine? I'm not going to marry her with Jack's kid inside her,  Arnie thought as he lay on his used-to-be girl. As he caught his breath,  letting his dick soak in the occasionally still twitching pussy, he thought, Yeah, I should have fucked her months ago, then this would never have happened. She might even have been knocked up with my kid by now. I won't ever be that naive again!

Arlene took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it prissily in her hand, looking around at Arnie. "You're getting better," she teased. "Your cock knows what to do. I'll bet that load would have squirted halfway across the room," she giggled.

Arnie pulled out and Arlene rolled onto her back. He lay back down over her and kissed her, prolonging the kiss, entwining their tongues. His hand gently stroked her vulva as she clung to him.

Jeff was distracted by Jack groaning as he pushed himself fully up on his arms, his hips picking up speed. Diana raised her legs just above Jacks hips and clamped down, constantly rotating her hips and fucking Jack. I must be a whore at heart,  she thought, I hate this son-of-a-bitch, but his cock feels so good. I must have already come ten times, and when he dumps his load in me from those balls of his, I'm going to come again. Oh, he's close. I can feel his cock swelling.

Jeff watched Jack short stroke his wife, their groins slapping together with an audible sound as Jack groaned again as Diana's voice went up. "I'm coming," she squealed as she threw her legs wide, kicked her spike heels toward the ceiling, then grabbed Jack with her legs, lifting her ass completely off the couch, presenting her pussy to him. Jack squirmed his ass against her, grunted, then froze for a moment. The couple stayed locked together with Diana's ass lifted to him for a couple of seconds, then Jack groaned, rotated his ass, his cock jerking, as it sent his load into her clenching pussy.

Oh, shit, I felt it jerk, he going to ... Oh, crap that stuff is hot and it feels so good. Fuck me you bastard. Fuck me.

Jeff watched his wife grind her groin against Jack's, the muscles standing out on her legs as she pulled his cock deeper into her pussy. I never realized how sexy black spikes were until now,  he thought as he saw his wife's high-heel clad feet urge Jack on.

As the fucking couple slowed and stopped, Jack collapsed on Diana. She took the cigarette out of her mouth so she could gulp air. Oh, shit. He came a lot that time. It feels like my womb is bloated with his stuff. If I'm fertile, he's knocked me up for sure. Maybe the spermicide will do its job, though.

After a few minutes of soaking his cock in her sloppy pussy, Jack pulled out and watched a small flood of sperm gush out of the beautiful woman. Diana clapped her hand over her pussy and took off for the bathroom. A few minutes later, she came back and sat down on the couch a couple of feet away from Jack. She picked up the lighter off the end table and lit the cigarette, guiltily looking at Jack out of the corner of her eye. His balls still look full. I guess it's a product of his age; his balls look like they're ready to go again. My husband always made love to me when he was Jack's age; still does. He doesn't fuck me like I'm a whore. I'm glad I put some spermicide in this bathroom as well, I hope all that spermicide I'm putting in my pussy will keep me from getting pregnant — if I'm not already.

After a few minutes Jack stretched out on the couch on his back, and Diana, also feeling drowsy, leaned back and closed her eyes. After a little, Arlene and Arnie curled up together on the other couch, and seemed to be dozing. Jeff watched for a few minutes, then slipped his shoes off, and carrying them along with the monitor, exited the storeroom. Circling quietly in the gloom of the big room as far away from the others as possible, he made his way to the rear door on the other side of the basement.

He stood outside the house leaning against the wall, then threw up. In addition to his stomach, he felt like there was something wrong with his heart. He could actually feel it beating in his chest. How could Diana get herself, and Arlene into a mess like this? Obviously, he didn't know the whole story, but he had heard enough to understand that Jack was blackmailing Diana over some pictures he had.

Less clear was Jacks hold over Arlene. Foggier still was just how Arnie figured in this, but he had some pictures too. Well, I certainly had plenty of time to plan while I tried to get my mind off my wife being fucked. Not only was she being fucked, she was obviously fucking back and enjoying it. One minute she was crying, the next she was coming. Oh, well, that's Diana. All you have to do is grab her pussy or nipple and she will come. Obviously, for anybody,  he thought dejectedly.

Time to solve my marital problems later. I need to get moving. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to focus on his objectives, he made a quick trip into the house via the front door, then retraced his route to the van.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the woods behind his house and concealed the receiver and tape player in the bushes, leaving them running on battery power. He had to pick up some things, and he had to do it in a hurry.

A while later, he was back. He replaced the portable receiver and player in the van. Now for a short stroll.

A little while later he walked, seemingly casually, down the alley behind Jack's house. The house was off by itself just before the entrance to the subdivision where Jeff lived. The house was old and rundown, causing it to be a real eyesore to the much more expensive neighborhood nearby. For some reason the land and house had not sold when the subdivision had been built. The house had been brought up in several of the division meetings, so Jeff knew it was owned by a mortgage company that had foreclosed on the property, then rented it through a big realty company from out of state. No one in either outfit gave a crap. End of story.

His lock picks worked on the old lock. He was inside the back door with barely a hesitation. There was little chance of his being seen, anyway. He began systematically searching the house, starting with the bedroom. He hit pay dirt in the second drawer he opened, where he found six pictures that had a greenish cast to them. Crap.

Jeff studied the pictures. If this is what this idiot has on Arlene, she should have told him to shove it up his ass. Two kids playing with each other. He didn't like it since it was his daughter, but she was fifteen, almost sixteen, and she was jacking Arnie off. Big deal. Then he picked up some more good color pictures. Ah, shit. His face flushed and he looked away for a minute. What in the hell was Diana thinking? Shit. Those pictures would get us all in some big shit. It's a good thing I came home. With shaking hands, he dumped the pictures into a large envelope he found, and continued looking. Ten minutes later, he had found nothing more and was running out of time. He did not have time to try searching through Jack's computer.

Grimly entering the kitchen, he dug a big skillet out of the cabinet, put it on the gas stove and turned the burner on high. He filled the skillet to the brim with cooking oil, using one of the three bottles he had bought at three separate stores, then drenched the nearby window curtains, wall and floor with the other two. After putting one empty bottle in Jack's trash can, and putting the other two in a bag to carry with him, Jeff raised both kitchen windows about half way for air. He waited until the oil started to boil over then walked out the door with the bag, re-locking before walking away.

Looking around to make sure no one saw him, he stripped off his gloves and put them back into his pocket. He waited in the darkness by a tree about a hundred yards from the house until he could see the fire glow in the kitchen, then continued on his way.

He returned to his van in the woods and waited. There were flames coming out of the bedroom windows. He had about decided that he was going to have to go to the local fast food mart and use the pay phone there to call the fire department, but apparently someone passing by had noticed, because he could hear sirens in the distance.

The fire department didn't have to come by Jeff's house, but even so, they made enough racket to be heard quite well. Good, the more noise, the better, though he was certain that Jack could hear the sirens, by now. He took his cell phone out of his pocket.

After the third ring Diana answered with a quiet, "Hello."

"Don't say anything. Just act natural. I know everything. Repeat the things I tell you to, and everything will be okay. Don't say my name. I'm Mrs. Donaldson from down the street. Now say, No, I didn't know!"

Arnie, Jack and Arlene heard only Diana's end of the conversation, which was:

"No, I didn't know ... Which house is it? ... Oh, the old house as you turn into the sub division. Flames are coming out the windows? ... Fire department there?"

Jack was snatching his pants on for all he was worth. He managed to get his shirt and one shoe on, and was trying to go out the door while putting the other shoe on. "Shit, shit, shit," he kept repeating.

Diana turned away and whispered into the phone. "Jeff, I..."

"Shut up Diana," Jeff growled. "I'll be there eventually. Keep Arnie there. I don't care how. Fuck him, pull a gun on him, tie him up, whatever. BUT KEEP HIM THERE. See you in an hour or two." With that Jeff hung up.

Diana hung the phone up, her face gray.

"What's up Mom? What's this about Jack's house being on fire? Can we go see?"

"Sit tight," Diana said after a moment. "I'll be right back."

Going up the stairs as calmly as she could, she entered her bedroom, dug her pistol out of the drawer, picked up a loaded magazine and slid it home in the butt of the weapon, listening for and feeling it seat properly, just as Jeff had taught her.

A moment later, she entered the playroom again, still nude, holding the gun behind her. She casually called to Arlene. "Come here a minute, Hon. I want you to do something for me."

Arlene, again sitting with Arnie on the couch, gave her a puzzled look, but walked over to her. "Sit on the other couch, Arlene."

Arlene started for the other couch when Diana pulled the 9 mm from behind her and racked a round into the chamber. "Arnie," Diana said in a shaking voice, "I don't want to shoot you, but that was my husband on the phone. He told me he knows everything," she said as the tears began to flow. "He told me to keep you here until he gets here. He said he knows everything and I believe him."

"Mother," Arlene screamed, "you can't shoot Arnie."

"Shut up, Arlene," Diana screamed, "and get me some rope!"

Arnie started to get up off the couch. Diana raised the gun toward him, holding it with both hands. "So help me God, Arnie, I will kill you before you get to the door," she said in a quiet voice, her hands shaking.

Arnie sat. His dick wasn't up any more.

"Get the rope!"

"I don't know where any rope is. And why do we need to tie him up?"

"There's plenty of rope on the boat. Now get it," Diana yelled.



-------

Chapter 5

As Jack came running by, his attention focused on the glow in the distance, Jeff tripped him. Jack hit the ground hard on hands and knees. Rolling over quickly, he saw Jeff, and put it together. "You son-of-a-bitch, you set my house on fire," he yelled scrambling to his feet.

"Yeah, I did, Stupid," Jeff said, hitting Jack across the mouth with a forearm, rotating his body with the blow, letting loose some of the pent-up emotions boiling inside him. Jack hit the ground on his ass. His jaw felt like it had exploded.

Jack couldn't believe Jeff had hit him so hard. Hell, he outweighed this guy, and he was a lot younger. He staggered to his feet spitting teeth, boiling mad — and met a back kick to the groin, purposely angled slightly up to crush his balls against his pelvic bone. Jack went to his knees and threw up, leaving his side open as he grabbed his balls.

A snap kick took out four ribs on his right side. As he went over, Jeff stomped his balls and dick to make sure he had Jack's attention. He felt something break and hoped it was Jack's balls. Taking the .45 out of its holster, Jeff grabbed Jack by the hair and inserted the barrel into his mouth — not gently. The front sight and barrel broke off two more of Jack's teeth. Jeff cocked the hammer as Jack stared cross-eyed at the Colt protruding from his face. There was a pungent odor of fresh piss.

Whispering in Jack's ear Jeff said, "Punk, you're not even in the same league with me. So just sit tight before I have to kill you. You have fucked my wife and daughter, maybe knocked them up. If I ever lay eyes on you again, I will kill you where you stand. Right now, it's all I can do to keep from pulling this trigger. But you're young, and I'm going to give you one chance. But if the cops hear about this, you will be dead. I have a friend who is an assassin for an agency you have never even heard of. I'll talk to him tonight, and if I don't report in regularly, he'll kill you. You will never know whether it will be with a rifle, or a fake robbery gone bad, or a chemical on a car door handle to give you a fatal heart attack, or any one of a dozen other ways, but the end result will be the same. Dead."

Jack tried to say something, but Jeff slammed the gun deeper into his mouth, making Jack whine and gag. "Remember, if I ever even see you again, ever! And incidentally, just tell the people at the hospital that you fell off a ladder at a friend's house, and stick with it, no matter what they say. If the police show up at my house, I'll make that call. Your life depends on the things I've told you."

With that, Jeff snatched the gun back and hit Jack in the forehead with it — hard. Jack collapsed, which was a pretty good thing, everything considered, since he didn't have to feel the pain any longer.

Jeff holstered the .45, then covered Jack with a painter's plastic drop cloth. After picking Jack up in a fireman's carry and dumping him into the back of the van, Jeff took the pistol back out of the holster, let the hammer down and safed the weapon. He stood looking at Jack a moment before returning the gun to its holster and strapping it down.

Shaking his head, ashamed for the rage inside himself, he closed the back door, then got in and cranked the motor. A little later, he dropped Jack, still unconscious, a block from the hospital. Wearing his gloves, Jeff covered the handset of a payphone with a rag, and dialed 911.

When the dispatcher answered, Jeff, changing the cadence of his voice, gruffly said that there was someone passed out with blood all over him at Dearborn and 9th Street, and hung up. The cloth was to keep any droplets of saliva off the phone, on the extreme off chance that a DNA sample would later be taken. Changing the cadence of his voice probably wouldn't fool a good voice analyzer, but it would give a lawyer something to argue with, should things go bad. He put the cloth and the plastic sheet, along with the two cooking oil bottles and his gloves in a dumpster that was not near enough to a building to cause any problems, and set the trash on fire.

He drove the van back to the lot, retrieved the tapes, and carefully wiped the vehicle down — just to be sure. He picked up his rental car and drove home.

As he walked into the playroom through the side entrance a little later, everyone started to talk at once. "Just hush," he said in a stern voice. "I'll be back in a minute." He noted that everyone had their clothes on but Arnie, who was sitting on the couch tied up. He had so much rope wound around him, he looked like a mummy. Jeff went up the stairs and into their bedroom, forcing himself to not think about what had been going on in there.

He laid the pistol and holster on a washcloth on the sink, and stripped off his clothes in the bathroom. Being careful to not let them touch anything, he carried every item of clothing he was wearing, including his belt and leather holster to the washing machine and dumped them in. He put twice as much detergent as usual in, and poured in a whole bottle of stain remover that was supposed to get out blood and crayon stains. Turning the controls to hot, he started the machine.

He doubted if the precautions were necessary, since he thought Jack had gone along with his instructions. Jeff had waited for an hour where he could see the emergency room entrance of the hospital, and the cops had not come. Jack must have told the doctor he fell off a ladder. Shit happens.

After putting on fresh clothes, he field stripped the .45 and cleaned it with a chemical that he knew would obliterate any traces of blood. He hadn't shot the guy, but cramming the gun in his busted mouth had certainly gotten some blood on the barrel and sight, not to mention hitting him in the head with the gun. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he stuck the .45 inside his belt in the small of his back, put the washcloth in the washing machine, and set the machine up for a second cycle, starting it again. After thinking a minute, he went downstairs.

Before anyone could say anything, Jeff said, "Diana, you and Arlene go make some coffee. Arnie and I need to be alone for about five minutes. And I'm hungry, if you have any sweet rolls or something like that, I need a snack."

Diana looked at him and started for the stairs, but Arlene was worried about Arnie. "Dad, please don't hurt Arnie. I can explain..."

Jeff turned to Arlene, almost growling, said, "Get your ass upstairs now before I lose my temper."

Jeff knew that Diana, and maybe, Arlene had put things together: the gun on his hip when he had first come in, the delay upstairs, the washer running. Diana probably thought he had killed Jack, and was getting rid of the blood on Jeff's clothes. From the worry on Arlene's face, she thought Arnie was going to join Jack. Diana grabbed Arlene by the arm and snatched her out of the room before she could even open her mouth again.

Arnie, at least, had the sense to keep his mouth shut, Jeff thought, but he would bet there was a wet spot on the couch.

Jeff sat on the couch, not too close in case some leaked out, and casually laid his arm across Arnie's shoulders. "You and I have to have a talk, son. After that, we'll get you untied and get your clothes back on."

There was an odd look on Arnie's face. From the smell, Jeff thought he definitely had his attention.

-------

A couple of hours later, Arnie was the owner of a new blank hard drive for his computer and a new flash memory card for his camera. Vacation pictures had been uploaded with the same filenames as the pictures Arnie had stored on his website, three times, with different pictures, but the same filenames. Jeff sat in the playroom on the freshly cleaned couch where his wife had been fucked earlier, his wife and daughter sitting on either side of him. Arnie's old hard drive and flash card for his camera were on the floor in front of them. Jeff had gathered up the microphones, cameras and other equipment and put them in a bag ready to be put back in the van when he had a chance.

Both women had cried until their eyes were red and swollen, but Jeff had sat without expression while they told their story. Neither of them even thought about lying. They just told it the way it was.

Jeff had asked questions — many questions. In the end, he knew everything they could remember to tell him. He sat staring at the floor, occasionally sipping from a cup of coffee. He put the cup down and picked up the phone. A couple of minutes later he was talking to someone that Diana had never seen, but knew that Jeff talked to him from time to time.

After the amenities were passed, Jeff said, "I know it's late, but I need a big favor." After a pause while the other person said something, Jeff continued, "I need some morning after pills for two women who have had non-consensual sex for the past week, and I need them now. I don't have time for a doctor visit and all that bullshit."

Again there was another pause while the other person said something, then Jeff said, "I owe you. I'll see you there in twenty minutes."

Diana was silently crying again, and Arlene had an odd look on her face. Jeff got up, picked up the bag of equipment, and left without saying anything.

A little over an hour later, Jeff walked in and handed two small prescription pill bottles to Diana. "Each of you take one now, and if your periods haven't started in twenty-four hours, take the other pill."

"Where did you get these?" Diana asked. "I'm afraid to take something like this. I..."

Jeff interrupted with, "Look on the bottles, they are legal. That doctor is from out of town, but the prescription is legal. Carl just filled it, that's all." Looking at first Diana then Arlene, he continued, "Take them now, one pill each."

"I'll get the water Mom," Arlene said, hastily getting up.

After they had taken the pills, Arlene went upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a tray laden with coffee and sandwiches. Jeff looked at the tray, and took a cup of coffee, but refused a sandwich. "I'm not hungry," he said, his voice listless.

Arlene wouldn't move the tray, but stuck it back in her dad's face. "Yes you are, Dad. We all need to eat. That sweet roll wasn't enough," her voice quavering. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," her voice broke into a sob. Diana hugged Jeff when Arlene started crying again, almost causing him to spill his coffee. He put it on the end table and started to say something when the phone rang.

"It's after ten," Diana said, starting toward the phone, "Mom would never call this late, unless something was wrong. I can't think who it would be, unless it's her."

Diana answered the phone, paused a moment then said, "Hold on." She turned to her husband, "It's a Mr. Wainwright. He says you know him and it's important that he speak with you." When Jeff nodded, she released the mute button and handed the phone to him.

After a long conversation, Jeff got up and replaced the phone on its charger. A frown on his face, he sat back down on the couch.

"What was that all about, Jeff? I mean, I heard what you said, but it doesn't make sense. What is this Learjet at seven in the morning? Where are you going? What..."

Jeff stretched out his long legs and stared at the floor a moment. "I didn't mean to tell you two this, yet. Certainly not this way. I was saving it until it was a done deal, but I guess it is, just about..."

"Jeff, you're driving me crazy," Diana said, "What is going on?"

"I wanted this to be a happy time for us. And it's everything but that right now. Things, other things, are coming together, and somehow we have to change gears, so to speak, and go with this, I think..."

Diana and Arlene exchanged looks and Diana started to say something when Jeff sighed, motioned with his hand for her to stop, and finally began talking. "Ok. I'll give you the quick version, and tomorrow on the plane, I'll tell you everything."

"On the plane," Arlene said, incredulously. "Where are we going, Daddy?"

"I'll get to that in a minute. As you both know, I've been working on a sort of invention in my spare time." When both women nodded, he continued, "Well, it hasn't exactly been just in my spare time for the last year. Yeah, I've picked up a few engineering jobs, but most of the time that I've been away from home, it has been because I was working on, or testing my system."

"What system?" Diana interrupted.

"Well, we haven't exactly named it yet, but the closest I can come to make you understand without a lot of details, is a new kind of radar." As both women started to speak again, he shushed them with his hand and continued. "I came up with the idea about two years ago, and since then have spent a lot of time with patent attorneys. I've also rented various labs from time to time, and although I didn't tell you," he said, guiltily, "I've pretty much borrowed all the money I could, and generally screwed our finances — royally."

Diana's face flushed with that statement, but Jeff couldn't tell whether it was just shock, or anger. Ignoring her reaction, he went on. "I was in the final stages of selling part of the patent rights, and the system to Wainwright, Inc., which is the largest military contractor in this type of business, when I talked to you from their parking lot." He picked up his cup from the table and refilled it from the carafe on the tray. Taking another sip, he said. "Actually I was in the process of telling you we were going to be rich," (there was an intake of breath from Arlene) "when I heard a man's voice in the background. After I got here and realized that something was badly wrong, I called Wainwright and told him that I needed to put off the meeting in the morning when we were to sign the contracts."

Jeff allowed a slight grin to cross his lips. "I guess Wainwright and his bunch must have thought I was either talking to another company about the patents, or maybe I was getting cold feet about the deal. Anyway, it must have shook them up, because he sounded stressed just now, said they were sending the company jet to pick us up, and said they were going to 'sweeten the deal' a little. I agreed to go on with the meeting, but I guess I sounded a bit reserved, although for other reasons. He sounded like he was about to panic. He finally said, 'I promise you that you won't be disappointed.' So, I guess we will go. I forgot to call the lawyers to cancel, anyway."

"Go, where?" Arlene squealed.

"Oh, Saint Louis. And incidentally, you need to carry enough clothes for a couple of weeks, because we are not coming directly back home."

Diana locked eyes with her husband. "Where are we going?"

Jeff shook his head. "Dammit, that was part of the surprise, and it's still going to be. Now, you two need to pack, and don't worry about being neat about it. Just get it done. Whatever we forget, we will buy. After tomorrow, assuming everything goes right, we will be able to buy just about anything we want."

Both females started asking questions at the same time; Jeff just waved his hand. "Just load up all the suitcases we have. If that jet won't hold them, we'll ship them. Diana, while you are at it, clean out my drawers and pack my things in something. My cases are in the rental outside, but they are both full. If you don't have enough luggage, I'll go down to Wal-Mart and pick up what you need. But right now, I'm bushed. I'm going to lie right here and rest, maybe sleep for a while, if I can. Then I'll help you. We can all sleep on the plane tomorrow."

Jeff put his feet up on the couch and started to relax, then yelled up the stairs where Diana and Arlene were already packing. "Hey, I forgot. You two are going to that meeting with me tomorrow, so dress in your best."

There were protests, but Jeff ignored them and added. "Check on my good suit, I'll wear it tomorrow. The clothes in my cases are wrinkled. And put everything from the washer in the dryer. And wash the sheets on the bed," he grimly added. He was still trying to think what else he needed to do when exhaustion caught up with him and he slept.

-------

Arlene rushed into Diana's bedroom. "Mother, I can't get all my stuff into those two little cases of mine. I don't even know what to pack. Dad didn't say where we were going..." she whined, gradually running down.

Diana put her hands on her hips and started to admonish her daughter, when she thought better of it. "You're right. Let's go to the supercenter. If Jeff wants us to throw things together, that's what we will do." Grinning at her daughter, she said, "I'll give you five minutes to get ready, then we'll go."

Diana took one look in the mirror and realized that she wasn't going out looking like this. Her eyes were red and swollen and her face looked puffy, not to mention the mascara running down her cheeks.

Fifteen minutes later, they went downstairs to find Jeff on the couch, obviously deeply asleep. Diana hastily wrote a note telling him where they were going.

An hour later, they were back to packing. She didn't know anything about company jets, let alone this one, but she doubted if anything would be said about a few extra suitcases if this company sent a plane just for them.

Her mind wandered as she hastily folded clothes and packed them. Jeff had finished his BS in two years, and started to serve his military time. They had moved from base to base. After the first year or so, something had changed. Jeff had gone away when others in his unit had not. Then he had less and less contact with his unit at all. When she asked him, which was about a million times, she reflected, he would just shrug and tell her it was training.

She knew he was not just going on training missions. He had changed, become hardened, not just in body, but in mind as well. She still could not comprehend what an electrical engineer did on, what must have been, secret missions. His times away, and presumably the length of the missions lasted from a few weeks to six months or so. Twice, he had come back with wounds half healed. And they had obviously been gunshot wounds. He had been badly hurt, but he would not say anything about his injuries. No matter how many times she asked, he would just sigh and say he had been on a training exercise.

He had been only a captain, but some of the time, he wasn't treated like a captain. When they were moved from one base to another, and this was far more than anyone she knew, things got done for them. Oh sure, the military took care of its dependents, but this was more than that. There was always someone there to take care of Arlene and her when Jeff was gone for a long time. None of the other wives got this treatment. When she asked Jeff about it, he just told her to accept it and keep quiet about it. "Low profile," he would always say.

There were times that she wondered if Jeff was still in the army, as she knew it. Whatever it was, it made him quicker, both of body and mind, and harder. Not that he was ever any way but gentle with her.

She remembered an incident with a drill sergeant who kept coming on to her. He had gotten so bad that he tried to grope her whenever he caught her out somewhere. She had never had any real problems about stopping a come-on, but this guy would not take no for an answer. He kept making comments about her husband being gone all the time and wanted to "console" her. She had slapped him twice, and threatened to report him, but he would not stop. In desperation, she had told her husband about what was happening.

Jeff hadn't gone after the guy, and did not seem to be bothered about the incidents. She had started to get irritated that he was not making any attempt to stop this brazen idiot, when she found out that said idiot was in the hospital. Jeff had left two days after she told him about the sergeant, so she could not ask him if he had anything to do with why the guy was in the hospital. Thinking about it, she thought that Jeff might have actually left a day before the guy had his accident, or whatever had happened to him.

A week later, she saw the sergeant in the PX. Much of his face was several shades of purple, yellow and green, and his right arm was in a cast. They had both rounded an isle and nearly bumped into each other. She thought the guy was going to faint. Big badass drill instructor had almost fainted. He left his cart and left the PX. She sniggered all the way home.

She still did not know whether Jeff had done that or someone else, but it obviously had been done for her. When she questioned Jeff a couple of weeks later, he said, with no expression whatsoever, "Drill instructors get hurt all the time. They have a tough job." That was it. End of conversation, but she might as well have had the plague. None of the "come-ons" ever opened their mouths to her again.

Jeff had always been her man, was all she had ever wanted. For the hundredth time, she asked herself how she had gotten into this. And why had she come for Jack, and even Arnie, like she had. Jeff had always been so gentle and loving, and had always made love to her. Shit, his dick is bigger than Jack's. Why did I come like I did? Maybe Jeff needs to fuck my brains out every now and then, instead of always being so gentle.

When Jeff had picked up the cameras and microphones, she felt like she was going to faint, realizing that he had seen Jack fucking her, and her fucking Jack. She had tried to kiss him twice, but he just brushed her lips and went on. He had looked like he did just before he went on his missions. Cold, reserved, efficient. It scared her to death. Yet in just a few hours they were going to get on a plane and go to a meeting about something she knew very little about.

Jeff had said they were going to be rich, that the contracts were ready to be signed. Was he going to sign the contracts and then divorce her? Damn the money, I want my husband.

"Mom, what are you staring at?" Arlene asked, standing in the doorway.

"Just thinking, Baby. Just thinking." Her voice broke, "Just thinking that while my husband was working his ass off for me, I let myself and you, get suckered into something I should have been able to handle. Now, I'm scared to death that Jeff is going to divorce me," she sobbed.

Arlene put her arms around her mother. "Dad isn't going to divorce you. If he was, he would never have fixed things so Arnie and Jack don't have the pictures anymore."

"Darling, I know you mean well, but you don't know him the way I do. Once he starts to do something, he will finish it. Nothing will stop him. He not only saw the pictures, but also saw me fucking Jack tonight. Not just being fucked, but fucking and coming like a bitch in heat. Oh, Arlene, I can't lose him. I can't even think about life without him."

"Mom. Stop it. Your face and eyes are all red again. You don't want a bunch of strangers looking at you tomorrow, uh, today," she said, looking at her watch, "looking like that."

Diana glanced at herself in the mirror. "Oh, shit."

Arlene giggled. "You — we — have been saying that a lot lately."

Diana forced herself to grin a little. "Yeah, we have; haven't we? And some of those times I was coming so hard I couldn't think of anything else to say." Mentally shaking herself, Diana said, "Let's get all this stuff down to the side door. I think we can sleep for a couple of hours before we have to get ready."

A few minutes later, the bags were all ready to go. Diana had put out Jeff's best stuff, and hers was ready as well. Following, Arlene into her bedroom Diana said, "Let's see what you picked out to wear. Whatever happens, I want us to look our best."



-------

Chapter 6

The flight up had been uneventful, but they were not used to the opulence that the inside of the aircraft exhibited. Kathy, the attendant, did not have much to do, and seemed very concerned that they did not want anything. Other than bringing Jeff the phone when Wainwright called, and getting each of them a diet coke, they did not need anything but a little sleep. Reclining in the plush seats, they did just that.

The pretty attendant woke them about fifteen minutes out of the airport so they would have time to freshen up. The pilot obviously knew what he was doing. The landing was accompanied by a faint bark of the tires as they spun up on the asphalt; there was not even a slight bump as the plane put down.

As they prepared to leave the craft, Captain Madison told them that Mr. Wainwright had told him to keep their luggage on board and refuel the plane, as they would have further use of it later in the day. Jeff raised an eyebrow, but did not comment.

A limo was waiting, and the opulence continued, but the traffic didn't. They sat on the freeway for forty-five minutes while a crane righted an overturned eighteen-wheeler. The chauffeur told them that he had contacted Mr. Wainwright and there would be no problem.

The sprawling complex was fenced. They rolled up to a security gate and a smartly dressed guard checked the chauffeur's ID, then told him that the office had already cleared his passengers. He stepped back, waving them through.

Jeff pointed to a large, multistory building in the distance. "That's where we're heading," he told his wife and daughter. But the driver did not go to the front of the building as expected, rather went around to the side where a large door opened for them as they approached. Inside, he stopped near an elevator and hurried to open their door for them.

As they exited the vehicle, the elevator opened and a well-dressed man of about forty-five nodded to Jeff, then introduced himself to Diana and Arlene. "Hi. I'm Ray Tingle, one of the vice presidents here." Jeff introduced the women, and he and Tingle shook hands.

"How was the flight, Jeff?" Tingle asked.

"It must have been fine," Jeff laughed, "we slept most of the way. But the traffic was a little different."

"Yes, we heard about that," Tingle replied, ushering them into the elevator.

As the elevator ascended, Jeff said, "I hired another lawyer a couple of days ago. His name is Wadsworth. I spoke to Mr. Wainwright about him when I was here day before yesterday. I'll need to see Wadsworth before we enter the meeting."

"Oh, he's here," Tingle said. "We have provided him full access to the documents, as you requested. He has made a couple of changes that we have already approved." With a grin, he added, "I think your patent attorneys are a bit insulted that you brought someone else in, though."

"Tough," Jeff replied, without a grin, "They will be paid enough to get over it."

As the elevator opened into the waiting area of the company, a short, thin man immediately stood and walked toward Jeff. Without preamble, he said, "I need to see you for a few minutes, in private."

Jeff looked at Tingle. If there was an objection to the delay, Tingle did not show it. "This way," he said, leading them down a hall to a small conference room.

When Diana and Arlene started to lag back, Jeff ushered them into the room in front of him. Tingle left, closing the door behind him.

Jeff started to say something, but Wadsworth interrupted. Jeff frowned as Wadsworth introduced himself to the women, then shoved a paper in front of Jeff. The women leaned over to read it as well. In bold caps they read:

ASSUME BUGGED. CONTRACT GOOD. YOUR PATENT ATTORNEYS HAD ONE LOOPHOLE THAT I CORRECTED. WE NEED TO MAKE COMPANY PEOPLE WAIT. I WILL DISCUSS PRICE AND STALL FOR AWHILE. WILL DO THEM GOOD. 

For the first time since Jeff got home, Diana saw him smile. They spent thirty-five minutes hearing lawyerese and going over points on a contract that Wadsworth had already said was good. But Diana noted that Jeff seemed to be enjoying himself — immensely. Finally, Wadsworth deemed the time long enough and suggested they go on to the meeting.

Tingle met them in the hallway and tactfully suggested that Arlene would perhaps be more comfortable in a private guest waiting room, where there were video games and a TV.

Jeff cut him off with, "My wife and daughter will accompany me."

"Certainly, Sir. As you wish."

Tingle opened the door of a conference room several times larger than the one they had just left. On the far end of the mirror-bright table sat the president of the company flanked by three males and one female. All were in their forties or fifties, Diana thought. Down the left side sat three other people, two males and one female. Across from them were three other men. She assumed that the last six were attorneys. Everyone stood as Jeff and his family entered.

Tingle introduced everyone without missing a name, concluding with, "And of course you all know Mr. Matthews."

No one sat until Diana and Arlene were seated. No one questioned the presence of a fifteen-year-old in the meeting.

Jeff has the attention of this group,  Diana thought.

After a few minutes of pleasantries, they got down to business.

The president, Mr. Wainwright, stood. "Obviously," he started out, "We all know why we are here today. It has been a day that our company has been looking forward to, but indeed, to be a little candid for a moment. Mr. Matthews, we did a very thorough background check on you. We are a contractor for the federal government and can not afford to be too cautious. However," he cleared his throat and glanced at the small group of top executives of the company for a moment, "I fear that somehow, we have projected some wrong impressions. We, ah ... have noted that you have become hesitant, and frankly, we think you may have been considering selling your patents to another firm."

Jeff just looked at him and shrugged slightly.

Wainwright continued, "When we started investigating your military history, we had a visit from two men who gave their ranks as captain and major, but little else about themselves. They were legitimate enough, they even let us copy their ID's, but we were told that our investigation into your military history was at an end. That it was classified, but they would vouch for you, in writing, if need be. We got it in writing.

"And, since we are on that subject, I would like to remind you that there is a near one hundred percent chance that this product, shall we call it, will be sold to the federal government, i.e., the U.S. military, and at some point everything relating will come under the National Security Act, so I caution all of you present, that you may well be scrutinized by the government at some future point. So, I strongly suggest that the proceedings of this meeting be kept strictly confidential, lest at some future date you have to explain why you did not think that it was pertinent to do so."

One of the male company attorneys, Diana could not remember what his name was, spoke up. "Mr. Wainwright, in line with what you have just said, I would like to point out that we have an adolescent in the room for which there could be no binding contract, and I suggest that she be allowed to wait in our guest room until..."

Jeff stood, leaning slightly forward to place his hands on the table, staring toward the attorney. "Jenkins is your name. Is that right?"

Diana noted that her husband had his "mission" face back on.

"Well, Jenkins, I guess I need to explain something to you..."

Mr. Wainwright tried to interrupt with, "Jeff, you don't have to explain anything. Bert is out of line, and will apologize. Won't you, Mr. Jenkins!" It wasn't a question.

Jenkins face set, but if he was going to say anything, he did not get a chance, for Jeff continued. "Everyone present needs to understand that I would not be here today, and we would not be discussing this contract had it not been for my wife, for there would be nothing to sell. Without her working two jobs, I would never have been able to go to college. Oh, I got a scholarship, but it didn't pay for half what we had to spend. She never once complained. You try working two full time jobs," he told Jenkins, glaring at him, "then you might have something to say that I would bother to listen to.

"My daughter didn't have things that a lot of other kids had, but I never had any problems with her that other parents seemed to have with their kids. Hell, she has spent half her life either at her grandmother's, or in day care, or with a sitter. But she has never made a grade less than an A. Not once."

Sweeping his gaze across the lawyers, he returned it to Jenkins. "You want my daughter to leave, Jenkins. If she goes, my wife and I go too, and so help me, I will still sell my patents before the day is out, but it won't be to this outfit."

It went downhill from there. Jeff was mad. Mr. Wainwright called for a break and got Jeff alone to calm him down. When everyone was called back to the conference room again, there was a female in Jenkins' seat.

While Jeff was haranguing Jenkins, Diana's mind had kept replaying Jeff's remark about never having problems with Arlene. Diana fought the tears back, remembering what Jeff had seen Arlene and her do last night.

The meeting restarted. Mr. Wainwright stood and cleared his throat. "Getting back to where I was earlier," he grinned, and there was a snicker from several of the lawyers. "I hope that the investigation has not made you rethink our efforts to bring your knowledge to fruition. And we apologize for any inconvenience that our investigation may have caused you, and of course, for the unfortunate incident of a few minutes ago. On the second point, we," he said, nodding to the group near him, "have reconsidered our obligations to you and have increased our proposal, somewhat.

"If you will turn to the back page, there is an addendum that we have added in the time you spent with your attorney when you first entered the building. Two parts of the addendum were added then, that is. The first two parts were added this morning, before you got here. The parts that we added while you were in conference with your attorney was the retreat and use of the company jet. Instead of a one-year lease on the mountain retreat/conference center, we have added it to the deal, in total, and the center comes with a new four-wheel drive vehicle, as well as several ATVs, snowmobiles and other accompaniments that you will need in the winter, or from time to time. The other part about the jet was Margaret's idea."

Margaret spoke up. "The thing sits at the airport a lot of the time, anyway. Although at certain times, it can be very busy. But let me tell you how this is supposed to work. Forget about using it around holidays, the five people you see at this end of the table have preference. In other words, you are number six on the totem pole. That doesn't mean that you won't get to use the jet though, far from it. Other than a vacation or two for each of us throughout the year, and a number of business trips, the rest of the year is open. We mean for you to use it. Don't hesitate. You can bet we have, and do, spend a lot of money on the thing. So use it.

"Don't worry about the crew, we pay them well. Also, we make sure that they are home for Christmas, at least. Most of the other holidays, they spend flying or wherever we happen to go. If they don't have to go back to pick up someone else, we put them in a nice hotel, and they get a vacation, too."

"Also, you will be here from time to time as a consultant — a well paid consultant. No use your sitting on a commercial flight when the jet can pick you up and save a lot of hassle. Enjoy."

Jeff glanced at his family and nodded, a slight smile on his face, still noncommittal, though.

Wainwright picked up with: "The first two parts, we think you will find just as agreeable. We have increased our up-front money by ten percent, raising the total to one hundred fifty-five million, five hundred thousand dollars. We did not make any adjustments to your royalties. We have also added in an expense card for any expenses while traveling away from your home in relation to our ongoing program."

Diana had to force herself to breathe. One hundred and fifty-five million dollars. SHIT! she thought. She fervently hoped that she hadn't said it aloud.

Arlene looked like someone had stepped on her foot.

Jeff again nodded slightly when Mr. Wainwright looked at him and paused.

"Our session is being recorded as I mentioned during the introductions, and we will now go over each part of the contract, so that there can be no misunderstandings later. Everyone here will, of course, be given a copy of the recording. Now, let us start with page one..."

Other than an occasional bathroom break, and thirty minutes for lunch that was served in the conference room itself, they kept at it until things wound down in late afternoon. Jeff had remained so deadpan all day, that Diana thought he was not going to sign the contract. Mr. Wainwright seemed almost stunned, having convinced himself that Jeff was going to sell to someone else, when Jeff picked up a pen and signed his copy. In short order, Mr. Wainwright and Jeff signed all copies.

The conference room was soon abuzz with several conversations going at once.

Jeff declined a small party scheduled at one of the hotels at eight. "My family and I are tired, and we would like to get started toward our new home. Although, I have seen it at our conference there, my family has not."

Mr. Wainwright said to Jeff, "By the time you get to Boulder, it will be getting late. We can have a helicopter take you to the retreat and I can arrange for your vehicle to be brought up tomorrow, if you like."

Jeff looked at Diana. "I think we'll just stay in Boulder for the night, and drive up in the morning. It is a beautiful trip, and that way we'll be rested up."

Mr. Wainwright hurried them on out, "Go ahead and get started, maybe you can miss some of the traffic on the way to the airport, my staff will get you accommodations at the hotel we use there, and notify your pilot."

As they left the conference room, Diana whispered in Jeff's ear, "Hang on a minute, I've got to use the bathroom." She grabbed Arlene and took her with her.

A few minutes later mother and daughter returned. When they were getting in the limo, Diana whispered in Jeff's ear a second time, simply saying, "I started."

She could see a load lift off Jeff's shoulders. But then he glanced at Arlene and did his eyebrow lifting routine. Diana responded with a faint headshake.

They ate on the plane, thus giving the flight attendant something to do — it certainly wasn't airline food.

When they got to Boulder, a new Cadillac Escalade all-wheel drive, was waiting for them. Jeff grinned as he looked at the gleaming, black vehicle, "Well, at least now with the sale of my invention, we don't have to worry about gas mileage, and the SUV is surely big enough to put everything in."

Jeff was not allowed to touch a thing. The pilot joked that Mr. Wainwright would have his ass if Jeff had to load his own luggage. As the crew was finishing with the loading, Captain Madison gave Jeff a card. "Here are numbers that you can reach us any time, Sir. We will be waiting for your call."

A little later, they each grabbed a bag out of the SUV and left the attendant to park the vehicle.

Diana said, worriedly, "We surely have a lot of stuff in there to leave in a parking deck somewhere. I hope everything will be all right."

Jeff winked at her. "If tips will do it, everything will be fine. I'll guarantee you that is the biggest tip he's gotten all day." Then to Diana, he quietly asked, "Did you get Arlene's pill? It looks like she is going to have to take the second one."

Diana nodded, "Yes, I made sure she has it with her."

Their room was not a room, but a suite, and a very nice one at that. Jeff tipped the bellhop, picked up his and Diana's cases, staggered to one of the bedrooms, and collapsed across the bed, physically and mentally exhausted. Arlene picked up her case and went to explore the other bedroom.

Diana pulled off Jeff's shoes, then encouraged him to get up and take a shower. "Come on, Baby, I'll scrub your back. That always makes you feel good, then we can order in something to eat. You will rest better after that."

Jeff grumpily complied, wanting nothing more than just to be left alone. As Diana undressed and started to get in the shower with him, he said, "Look Hon, I'm bushed. I'll just take a quick shower, then you can have it to yourself."

Diana's face fell. He is really beginning to scare me. He's never turned down a back rub in the shower, because it generally leads to a blowjob. I whispered to him how sorry I am about Jack and Arnie, but he obviously hasn't forgiven me. Aloud she said, "Jeff, please forgive me. I know I was stupid. But, I swear that I never stopped loving you. I know I dishonored you, and shamed you, not to say anything about the mess I left for you to have to clean up. But I love you with all my heart, and I always will. Please don't just shut me out. Please find in your heart a way to forgive me."

Jeff didn't respond, but a little later, he turned the shower off. As he stepped out, Diana handed him a towel. "Baby, I'm too tired to think straight now. Let's put this conversation off until we have all had some rest." With that, he walked around her, put on a pair of shorts and tee-shirt and relaxed on the bed. A couple of minutes later, he pulled the sheet over himself.

Diana sat on the bed and stroked his hair, kissing his cheek. She eased her hand down and gently took his cock, but he pushed her hand away. "Baby, I'm not ready for that just yet." A few minutes later, he was deeply asleep.

Diana fought back tears and went looking for Arlene, who had already found the menu.

Trying to put on a cheerful front, Diana asked, "Well, now that we're rich, shall we order something extravagant?"

Arlene laughed, "If a hamburger and a coke about this high are extravagant, then yeah."

Diana smiled at her daughter, "Just ditto that order and call me when it gets here. I'm going to take a shower."

"Hey, Mom," Arlene called, as Diana was leaving the room.

"Yeah, girl."

"I started."

Diana just waved and turned away before Arlene could see the tears. She would tell Jeff as soon as he awakened.



-------

Chapter 7

The phone rang at six, startling Diana out of a dream that she could not quite remember, as she heard her husband thanking the desk for the wake-up call. "You told them to wake us at six?" she asked, blearily looking at her watch. "Why? We're on vacation, aren't we?"

Jeff snatched the cover back. Diana's nipples hardened in the cool air of the room, even though she had worn a teddy to bed. She leaned over, grabbed Jeff's morning hard-on and encircled it with her mouth. Jeff pulled away, saying, "We haven't got time for that. We'll need all day to check out the house and acreage. Let's get a move on, we can stop for breakfast at a Waffle House, or something of the sort, on the way."

As he started to enter the bathroom, Diana called after him. "She started, Jeff. She's not pregnant."

Jeff hesitated for a moment, then went on into the bathroom without answering. In a moment, he said, "Check my bag, Babe. Both of you have birth control pills in there, with refills for a year. They're not the same brand that you took before. They're supposed to work after only three days. You need to read the instructions, I don't know whether you start them today, or not."

Diana got the pills and headed for Arlene's room to wake her.

-------

A little while later they were in their Escalade and Arlene was anxiously reading from the directions. Jeff laughed and said, "I've been there before,  Kiddo. I think I can find my way, but you can be my navigator, just in case. Of course, we could cheat and use the GPS," he teased. "The trip was a couple of months back and I wasn't driving."

Diana had already found a state map in the glove compartment, and she and Arlene set out to make sure Jeff did not get lost, saying it would be more fun finding it on their own. Since Jeff had not eaten last night, he was more interested in breakfast than their directions. He found what he was looking for soon after getting on the main highway.

While they ate, Diana tried to tease her husband and chitchat, but he made little response, obviously still very down. We have just received a hundred and fifty-five million dollars, a multimillion dollar house, or some such, set on six hundred acres, and a new car, a Cadillac for crying out loud, but he is still down. My fucking Jack and Arnie has obviously hurt his ego an awful lot. Will he ever get over it? Will he ever forgive me? She smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. She caught Arlene's eye for a second while Jeff paid for their meal. Arlene was worried, too — big time.

As they got back in the SUV, Arlene hugged Jeff's neck, "Thanks, Daddy. You're the best."

"For what, Punkin?"

"Everything. Just everything."

Jeff smiled a little, but did not say anything else. Soon, they were on their way again.

"Looks as if Winter Park is about two thirds of the way there. I've heard of it, but of course, never been there. Did you go through the city when you went to the conference you were talking about?" Diana asked.

Jeff glanced at her, "Yeah, we did. You don't really have any choice. There aren't a lot of roads in these mountains," he said, pointing ahead of them. "We stopped for gas there, and I picked up a brochure at the station while Tingle was filling the car. The cashier told me that some snow fell almost every month of the year. Winter Park is actually in a valley, but its elevation is still nine thousand feet or so at the town center. I remember reading that Winter Park, Colorado is the highest incorporated town in the US. I think that includes one of the ski resorts, though. The top of one of the ski resorts is something like twelve thousand feet, if I remember correctly."

Hesitating a moment, he continued, "I thought we might come here on vacation sometime. Looks like we made it. It's a beautiful place, as everything seems to be in this area," he finished, looking at the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

A while later, they had crossed a mountain, were out of the snow and passing through Winter Park. Jeff motioned to a small restaurant on the left. "We'll have to come back here one day soon."

"That place Daddy?"

"Yeah. Tingle, like I said, was driving when I came up. He insisted that we had to stop there."

"It's small," Diana said, trying to be noncommittal as she checked out the nothing-special building.

"Yeah, it is that, but the lady who runs The Kitchen is a character. She has signs all over. One of them says something like, IF YOU ARE IN A HURRY — GO SOMEWHERE ELSE."

"And she gets any business?" Diana asked.

Jeff laughed, "The place is frequently packed. They process one order to completion at a time. When your meal is served, they start on the next one. One at a time. Quality, not quantity."

"But it looks like their customers would get mad and leave — and not come back."

"It's a different world here. There just doesn't seem to be a rush. Besides, she warns you with the signs ahead of time. If you are in a hurry, go somewhere else." He laughed, saying, "After tasting the food, I won't mind waiting for it again. I sure didn't that time. And besides..."

They all chimed in with, "IF YOU ARE IN A HURRY — GO SOMEWHERE ELSE."

Diana glanced over at her handsome husband. For a little while there, my Jeff came back. But now the laughter is gone and his face has that lonesome look again.

Three quarters of an hour, and one wrong turn later, they were high in the mountains. They had followed a small, winding and very steep road for several miles before turning into a driveway that seemed to go on and on, mostly up a cliff face. Diana's side of the vehicle was on the outside of the curve. She could see for what seemed like forever, straight down. When the switchback came, Jeff got the "view," as he called it. Diana called it, "scared to death."

"This is our driveway?" Diana whined.

"Yeah..." Jeff slurred, drawing out the word as the Escalade shifted into first, the big engine's noise mounting as the slant of the drive increased upward.

"Oh, shit," Diana quietly said. To her, the driveway seemed to suddenly go straight up.

"You'll get used to it," Jeff said. But Diana noticed he did not look down on his next turn, and he had both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

"The man who brought the SUV said they would be up in a few days with snow tires that we could change out when we needed them. He said they were already on the rims, and we could just swap out the wheels when winter comes."

"You will be driving from now on. I'm not going to drive down this driveway," Diana forced out while trying to look anywhere but down.

"You'll get used to it. Besides the drive is plenty wide enough, paved all the way, and those rails on the side look substantial."

"Yeah. Right," Diana, said, closing her eyes.

Arlene, trying to get her mind off the sheer drop, took out one of the long cigarettes and lit it. Diana, who had just opened her eyes, caught Jeff looking in the mirror. "Jeff, I know she looks sexy with that cigarette, but if you take your eyes off that road one more time I'm going to get out and walk. I don't like this," she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice to a normal tone as her eyes were drawn to the seeming drop-off to nowhere that was much too close.

"I wasn't..." Jeff started.

"The heck you weren't, Jeff Matthews. Now get us to this house in one piece before I wet my pants."

They glimpsed something through the trees as they neared the top of the bluff. "Jeff, uh ... that can't be it. Can it?"

"Oh, yeah, that's it," Jeff said glancing where Diana was looking.

A little later, they pulled into the circle in front. Arlene and Diana both rolled their windows down, but neither said a thing. They just stared.

"Jeff, you've got the wrong place," Diana said, uncomfortably. "This can't be right. It's ... it's a hotel or something. Or maybe a ski lodge. No, it must be a resort of some kind. A ski lodge would never be this beautiful."

"It's neat is what it is," Arlene broke in.

Diana ran out of words and just sat staring.

Jeff laughed. "Oh, this is the place. I've been here before, remember?" Jeff said into the silence.

Arlene was trying to count windows, but lost count because of the trees in the way.

When Jeff realized what she was trying to do, "Won't do you much good to try and count windows. It's built vaguely like a big triangle, although expanded on the narrow end. They passed out maps. It didn't take me long to realize that I needed one."

"I love the architecture," Diana quietly said, still staring. "This has got to be one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen. It must have cost millions — many millions. It just can't be ours," she finished, awe in her voice.

"Well a billionaire did have it built. I don't know who designed it, but I'm with you. I've never seen anything like it. But it is ours. Lock, stock and barrel, as they say."

Jeff put the big SUV back into gear. "I'm going to see if I can figure out how to drive around to the back. With all this stuff we have with us, I want to be as close to a door as possible. In the front here, you have to ride an elevator up to the first floor, and you can't park very close, anyway."

As they climbed a grade and circled around back, Diana said, "There's the garage." Then a moment later, "Good grief. How many doors does that thing have?" as she eyed the long building sitting a hundred feet or so from the main building. "And there seems to be another garage that's part of the main building, but it's closer to the other end."

Jeff laughed. "Remember Mr. Wainwright said they build this for a conference center, and a retreat. It's big. So they probably needed a lot of garage space for all the people. Undoubtedly, there is a lot of snow up here in the winter and you wouldn't want to leave your car out."

"Yeah, I guess," Diana responded, looking at the size of the parking lot between the retreat and the garage.

Spying a back door, they pulled near and got out of the car. "The alarm code is sixty-nine, sixty-nine," Jeff offered

"Oh, Jeff," Diana said as they mounted the steps, "That's tacky."

Jeff laughed as he slipped the key into the lock. "I guess we can change it to, two sixty-nine, sixty-nine."

Arlene piped up with, "Or to sixty-nine, sixty-nine, three."

"Young lady," Jeff admonished.

When he started to say something else to Arlene, Diana gouged him in the ribs. "Don't be such an old fuddy duddy. Besides, I think it's funny — and,  you were the one who started it," she laughed.

Jeff scowled a bit, but turned the key, opened the door and quickly entered the alarm code.

Diana looked around her. "If this is the mudroom," she exclaimed, "it's as big as our master bedroom at home."

"At home?" Jeff grinned. "This is our home. Remember?"

Diana started down the hall with the other two following, but the hall soon branched into other, much longer halls. After a couple of wrong turns, she found the kitchen, well — she thought it was the kitchen. Diana just stood there, stunned. "You could run a restaurant out of this place. It's huge. On second thought, I'd be willing to bet there are a lot of big restaurants with kitchens a lot smaller than this."

Diana started down one side running her hand along the shiny granite countertop. Stopped, she leaned across the extra wide counter to slide a door. Dashing down the counter, she opened door after door, then turning to Jeff, "They're appliance garages," she exclaimed. Then at Jeff's raised eyebrow, she continued, "Like my little mixer garage on the kitchen counter in Georgia, except ... they're big, and recessed into the wall behind the counter, so counter space isn't used up. Oh, Jeff. They're full of everything. And it's all industrial size. And look how wide the counters are."

While Diana was pulling out appliances from their little homes, Jeff stepped off the kitchen. "Fifty feet by thirty feet," he said, but was interrupted by Arlene before he could comment further.

"Mom, Dad! There's a walk-in freezer, and it has double doors," Arlene said, going through first one, then on through the other. "And it's huge," came her muffled voice, even though the doors were open, "and it's packed with all kinds of meat, and oh, just everything," she finished, turning round and round, trying to look everywhere at once, just as Jeff and Diana caught up with her.

Diana picked up a package of steaks. "Jeff, this meat is specially wrapped. Look at the thickness of the paper." Then a second later, "It's double wrapped to help keep down freezer burn."

"Well, they used the place sporadically, but when they did, I suspect there were a lot of people here. Makes sense I guess."

Arlene, hugging herself, started for the door. "I'm freezing."

Jeff laughed at her antics as she rushed out. "That's the reason your mother and I took time to put on the coats that were hanging in the airlock before we came in."

Arlene stood just inside the kitchen door, prominent bumps displayed on the front of her blouse, even through her bra. "I've never been in anything that was forty below zero before," she said when her mother and dad were back in the kitchen, after hanging their coats and securing the doors.

Jeff inadvertently focused on her nipples, then quickly averted his eyes, scolding himself for looking at his daughter, but Diana saw, and also noticed how quickly he looked away.

Diana opened a door on the same wall as the freezer, then stopped. "That's not all the frozen stuff," she said, there are two big stand-up freezers in here, and this pantry is bigger than our whole kitchen in Georgia.

Jeff stepped into the "L" shaped room. The base of the "L" ran along the back wall of the kitchen, then the long section of the "L" ran the length of the kitchen behind the counter where Diana had opened the appliance garages. There was even an office opening off the base of the "L."

"Jeff," Diana said, stunned. "We'll never be able to eat half this before it spoils. This place is like ... a grocery store."

"Well, Frank said it was stocked. He didn't say it was stocked for fifty people for a year, though," he laughed. "We'll give part of it away. There are bound to be some schools, or churches in the area that would be glad to get some canned goods. Come on," he finished taking Diana by the arm and starting her out of the pantry, "Let's see what else we can find."

"Dad," Arlene said, "Why do you suppose there are two, big kitchen tables in here? And they're nice. Not like anything I've ever seen in a kitchen before."

Before Jeff could answer, Diana said, "If I've counted correctly, the bigger table seats twenty, and the smaller, ten. I suspect this is where the help ate." She ran her hand over the contoured leather back of one of the kitchen chairs, "But if the help ate in this much luxury, I wonder what the dining room looks like?"

Jeff laughed, "I've been in one of the dining rooms. Total luxury. Wainwright knows how to spend money, no doubt, and Wainwright, Inc., practically manufactures the stuff. Plus he is supposed to own several other 'satellite' companies, whatever that means, according to Tingle. From what I hear, the guy is a billionaire several times over."

Arlene sat at the bar that ran partway down the kitchen, nearer the tables than the other side, slowly spinning herself. "Dad, this seat feels better than your recliner at home, and it's leather, too. If Mr. Wainwright used leather, and granite in the kitchen, I wonder what the furniture is like," she said, sliding out of the deep seat and heading for the door. "Come on Mom, let's find the living room," Arlene gushed, headed for the door.

In the hallway, they stopped, deciding which way to go. "I think it's down to the left," Jeff said, "but I don't think they called it a living room. I think it was called a sitting room."

Another seventy-five feet, or so, and Arlene opened large double doors on the right. As Jeff followed the women, he bumped into them as Diana and Arlene froze in the doorway. The floor-to-ceiling glass wall gave a spectacular view of the landscaped front with elegant, wide-spaced trees starting almost against the building. A hundred yards or so farther, they could see the driveway curve around to the beginning of the switchbacks that descended eventually to the unseen county road, over a quarter of a mile away. The room had numerous recliners, and overstuffed, beautiful furniture — all appeared to be done in leather. Several tables of various types were situated about the room, and the biggest TV that Arlene and Diana had ever seen. A fireplace tall enough to stand in, and at least ten feet wide, was on the left wall. The room was huge, the furniture tasteful and made for comfort.

As Jeff gently pushed the women forward, he said, "I've just been in here once, and then for only a little while, the one night I spent here. But it is beautiful, isn't it?"

Diana turned to her husband with a sparkle of moisture in her eyes, "Jeff, this is the most beautiful room I have ever seen in my life. You could put, I don't know, a hundred people in here. Can this really be ours?" she asked, barely audible.

"It's ours, Babe; that's what the contract says. And there's a deed in there somewhere with the contract that says the six hundred acres that surround the place, is ours as well."

"What will we ever do with this much room, Jeff?"

"Any damn thing we want to," he laughed.

Diana tensed, then looked at Jeff, "Where did you put the keys?"

"Uh, I laid them on the kitchen counter. Why?"

"Don't you dare just lay those keys down. If we lock ourselves out of this place, what would we do? It must have been miles since I last saw a house. And I'll bet the cell won't work in these mountains," Diana scolded.

"There's an extra set in the glove compartment of the SUV, but if we locked ourselves out of the car and the house; yeah, I guess you're right, it would be a long walk to a neighbor's to call a locksmith. We're going to have to hide a key outside somewhere." He thought for a moment. "I guess there will have to be a lot of changes. A two-hour drive to a supercenter would sure make for a careful grocery list. And when did we see the last gas station?"

"Are we really going to live here, Daddy? I mean, it's like in the middle of nowhere."

"We can damn well live anywhere we want, but maybe this is just what we need right now," he added, with that look like he had lost his last friend washing over his face.

I guess he feels like he has lost his friend, his "life's best friend," as he used to call me. I should have killed Jack, instead of letting him fuck me. What the hell was the matter with me? She shook her head before the tears came. "Come on. A place this big is bound to have an entertainment center, or whatever they call it."

Jeff grinned. "I think we have a couple — one on each floor. There are other sitting rooms, as well."

Diana looked around again, smiling. "Well, we're going to call this one our living room."

Arlene said, "You guys are too slow, I'm going exploring on my own," and dashed off down the hall.

"Don't go outside until we talk, Arlene," Jeff called after her.

"Okay, Dad," she yelled back as she found another room to investigate.

At Diana's inquisitive look, Jeff said, "Tingle explained that there were bears in the mountains." As the look on Diana's face morphed into a frown, he quickly continued, "There aren't a lot of them and they are not normally aggressive, but certain precautions are in order. Outside garbage cans are bear-proof, you don't grill where the bears can get to the grill, all the windows in the center are well above a bear's reach, and several other things. Someplace around here, probably either in the office or the kitchen, there is a book about the place. It has common-sense bear rules, too."

Jeff indicated that Diana should come over to the wall window, where he showed her how far it was to the ground. "Bears aren't normally aggressive to people, and if you don't feed them, or otherwise attract them, and remember that they are wild animals, they will, generally, leave you alone. Tingle said he had never seen a bear around — ever."

Diana relaxed a bit, but was still a little uncomfortable with the idea. "I guess there is a lot we'll have to get used to. I've always been a city girl, and this isn't exactly downtown. Let's look around some more. Where is the master bedroom? I need to use the bathroom."

"You've got me. I only stayed here one night, and I used a suite on the next floor. I ate my meals in a dining room on the same floor. There are several offices on both floors in the back wing. I never did get to the third floor. There is about a zillion, as Arlene would say, bathrooms. We'll go and find you one."

Eventually, they got tired of exploring, although much remained, winding up in the kitchen to fix lunch. Diana and Arlene had been there for several minutes before Jeff came wandering in. "Jeff, there's every appliance I ever heard of, and several that I have no idea what they do," Diana gushed.

"Good," Jeff laughed. "Then you'll have enough equipment to make me a sandwich?"

"Will, uh ... There's one little minor thing ... We don't have any bread."

"Yes we do, Mom. I saw some listed on the inventory for the walk-in freezer," Arlene said, as she took off for the freezer. A clattering of door latches, then a muffled voice asked, "What kind? We've got wheat, rye, sandwich sliced..."

"Wheat," Diana yelled, laughing.

"Will frozen loaf bread be any good?" Jeff quizzed.

Diana just rolled her eyes. "A couple of minutes in the microwave and it will be just as good as it was when it was brought in here."

"Oh," Jeff said. "I knew that."

"Yeah, right," she laughed, opening a cabinet door to see what was inside. "But we don't have fresh fruits and vegetables, for obvious reasons," Diana said.

"There's a pad hanging on the wall. Tell me what you need as you fix the sandwiches, and I'll start your list. It still seems weird though, making out a grocery list with all that food in the pantry and freezers."

"There's certainly no hurry," Diana said, as Arlene put a loaf of frozen bread into a microwave and turned it on, "but we can pick up some fresh things when we go back into the city."

-------

During the next five days, they read the booklet about the house and explored. Jeff, ever the electrical engineer, checked out the propane backup generators with their huge tanks, the two town-sized wind generators farther up the mountain behind the house, and the solar heating system that stored its energy below ground to be used as the day cooled off toward night.

Even in the second week in June, the temperature often dropped below freezing at night. On the third day it was cloudy, and great, fluffy flakes of snow started falling. They had two inches of accumulation that was gone the next morning, but while it was there, it made the driveway even more interesting than the first trip had. Interesting to look at; they didn't drive down it.

Early on, they spent one day sightseeing, ate at the restaurant Jeff had pointed out, then found a good-sized grocery store so they could have some fresh fruit.

Now, a week later, Jeff's mood had darkened, instead of improved. He frequently sat on one of the decks, supposedly reading, but he seldom turned a page. Diana watched him from the glass door that opened onto the deck. His eyes were focused in the far distance, his face slack, seemingly unaware of his surroundings.

As she turned away, she realized that Arlene had been watching, too. Their eyes met, but they did not exchange words. They went into the kitchen and Diana poured them coffee. She put sweetener and cream in, then sat silent, stirring as her eyes overloaded yet again. "I'm going to lose my husband," she gasped, as she dropped the spoon and sobbed, cradling her head in her arms as she leaned forward onto the table. "What am I going to do? I've tried everything I know. I've tried to entice him sexually; I've begged him on my knees to forgive me," she moaned, her voice partially muffled.

Sighing, she sat up and looked at Arlene whose eyes were full of tears, too. "I've even tried to get him to go to a marriage counselor. That got a rise out of him alright," she told Arlene. "He pointed out that there might be consequences when we told the counselor that Jeff had burned Jack's house down to make sure all the pictures were destroyed, then beat him up, maybe permanently maimed him, and threatened to kill him on sight. Not to say anything about taking Arnie's hard drive and his pictures, and, I assume, threatening him as well."

"Momma, I've tried, too," Arlene said taking her mother's hand. "You know I have, but he hardly ever says anything. I jumped on his lap yesterday, and he fussed at me. He won't play with me, or tease me the way he always has. I've apologized to him, too. I've told him how stupid I was, and that I won't ever do anything like that again, but it doesn't do any good. What can we do? I don't want you and Daddy to get a divorce. What will I do?" she sniffed.

After a while, Diana dried her eyes with a paper towel, handing Arlene one, too. She sat back down and looked at her daughter sitting across the table from her. "Baby, I keep having this idea. It may be a stupid idea, but it's the only idea I can come up with. But even if it worked, it would not be easy on either of us. And, I'm afraid it might make things worse. The thing is, I'm scared every time your father calls my name. I'm afraid he is going to say, 'Diana, I want a divorce.'"

Arlene came around the table and sat down beside her mother, taking Diana's hands in her own. "Oh, Mom, is it that bad?"

"Yeah, Baby, it is. I know my husband. He's making a decision, a hard decision. If it were going to come out for the good, he would have already made it. He is going to divorce me. The thing is," she sobbed, "I don't blame him."

Diana and Arlene cried together for a while, then Arlene asked, "But you said you had an idea?"

"Yeah, but the cure is about as bad as the disease."

"What are you talking about, Mom?" Arlen asked, getting frustrated.

"Have you ever heard the expression 'hair of the dog that bit you?'"

"Yeah, I think. I'm not sure."

"Well, it is sometimes said, for instance, when someone has gotten drunk the night before, and wakes up with a hangover. 'Hair of the dog that bit you, ' would be, in that case, drink a little more of the liquor that got you drunk, to ease the hangover."

"Oh, I get what you are saying, but I still can't relate it to Dad."

"Well..." Diana hesitated, took another sip of her coffee with trembling hands and continued, "Your dad caught us fucking Jack and Arnie, and found out that it had been going on for a week." As Arlene started to say something, Diana waved her hand for her to wait. "Your dad didn't participate in any of this, yet he had to watch his wife and daughter coming like a couple of whores — coming for other men."

"Yeah, Mom. We've gone over and over that..."

Diana almost whispered, "Like I said, he was not able to participate. But what if he were able to do just that?"

"But, Mom, how could he do that. It's over."

Diana looked her daughter straight in the eye. "Simple, Baby. You just fuck his brains out."

Arlene sat unmoving, then to Diana's consternation, began laughing. The absolute, last reaction Diana expected out of her.

Diana was angry. "Look, I said it might be stupid, but it's the only idea I've had. Laughing at me doesn't solve anything," she snapped.

"Mom, I'm not laughing at you," Arlene said grabbing her mother's hand. "It's just the irony of the whole thing, I guess." Arlene was quiet for a moment, then as Diana started to say something, Arlene shushed her. "Mom, I guess I need to tell you something, but you have got to promise that you won't tell anybody, not even Daddy."

Diana sighed. "Look, Baby, we already know enough on each other to last for a lifetime. So..."

"Mother, I'm serious. You have to promise me," Arlene said, squeezing her mother's hand.

"Okay, Arlene," Diana sighed, again, "I promise."

" ... To not tell even Dad?"

"To not even tell your Dad."

"Okay, Jennie and Melissa, are both fucking their dads," Arlene, said, expressionless. (Jennie and Melissa are two of Arlene's best friends.)

The timing couldn't have been more wrong. Diana had just started to pick up her coffee for another sip, expecting Arlene to have some big secret that would actually be nothing. She fumbled the cup, not quite breaking it, but spilling coffee over the table and herself.

Arlene jumped up to get the roll of paper towels, but Diana just sat there, coffee dripping from the table onto the shiny floor. She could not think of anything to say.

Arlene wiped up the table, and Diana automatically cleaned the floor, her mind almost numb. Both girls are sixteen and just as sweet and well mannered as you could ask for. I can't believe this.

"Mom, don't gross out," Arlene admonished, "there are at least three more girls in my class that I know are doing it. And I'll bet there are others, too."

Softly, Arlene continued, "When I first started masturbating, I used to think about Daddy all the time. I know some other girls that did about their dads, too. Maybe still do." Looking at her mother she boldly asked, "Didn't you think Granddad was sexy when you were my age, or a little younger?"

Diana started to hotly deny it, but then she thought how candid her daughter had been with her. "Yeah, I guess I did, Baby. But are you sure that Jennie and Melissa are really having sex with their fathers?"

"Yes, Mom, I am. And they weren't raped either. Both of them told me that they seduced their fathers."

Diana found herself answering, "Actually, it doesn't matter, the girls were underage and that is called statutory rape. Not to mention incest," she finished.

"But you have known them for years," Arlene pointed out, "and you didn't notice a thing. I'll bet you thought they were both still virgins."

Diana remembered thinking that she never saw either of the girls with boys, and did, indeed, think they were still virgins. Both were almost a year older than Arlene, but they were not wild like some of Arlene's friends. She had always felt a little relieved when they came to visit, instead of some of the other girls. I never saw anything wrong with either of them. Wrong with them? Now I'm asking my daughter to do the same thing. "How long has this been going on?"

"Well, Melissa started when she was fourteen. I think Jennie was fifteen. They were both virgins." Arlene paused for a second. "Mom, you remember all the racket about the guy, Ted, that had to drop out of school with AIDS? Well, he had screwed a number of girls in several grades. I sure don't want to have sex with any of the boys at school. I might get AIDS, too."

"But you screwed Arnie."

"Yeah, a couple of times before he came in the house that day so mad, and he used a rubber. But I wasn't afraid of Arnie giving me AIDS; he was a virgin for sure. But could a girl be safer than to have her first time with her father? At least she would be starting out with someone who already loved her, and would hurt her as little as possible. Jennie and Melissa are doing better in school than they ever have, and they are both on the pill. Their parents don't have to worry about them getting pregnant by some boy that just wants to get his rocks off. And, they don't have to worry about disease."

Arlene poured her mom some more coffee and reheated hers. "I could have a great time fucking Daddy, but then you would probably be mad at me forever."

Diana stirred in creamer and sweetener. She could not seem to get her mind off this new revelation. It took a moment for her to realize what Arlene had just said. Some part of her thought she should scold her daughter for the blunt way she had just spoken, but realized she, Diana, had just used almost the same words. "Arlene, maybe I should have said, make love to your Dad, not fuck him."

"Mom, get real ... Daddy isn't in the mood to make love. He needs to fuck somebody's brains out, just like you said. Now, how are we going to do this?" Arlene asked, her mood suddenly bubbly.

"Well, you don't have to be so eager," Diana retorted.

"Why not? I got turned on to sex, whether I wanted to or not. Besides," she giggled, "I would love Daddy to stick that big thing up my pussy."

"How do you know how big it is?" Diana asked, bemused in spite of herself as she sipped her coffee.

Arlene giggled again, "Well, I peeked in the bedroom the other morning when you were trying to give Daddy a blowjob. It's a lot bigger than Jack's," she said, almost squealing. "It will go in me, won't it Mom? I know it will probably hurt like everything in the beginning, but I just know I can take it."

Diana sighed, and looked at her daughter. "I was very bothered by bringing this up to you. But it was a desperate idea. Now I'm beginning to think it may be an even more stupid idea than I originally thought."

"Why, Mom?" Arlene asked, staring at her mother. "Are you jealous now that you've found out that I would love to fuck Daddy? Maybe we can both realize, just a little of what he must feel," she said, seriously. "If you want me to seduce Daddy, I will, or at least I will try. But I can't just fuck him one time. I would go stark raving crazy with just once. I'll want it to continue." Diana started to say no, but Arlene hushed her. "Be reasonable, Mom. All one time is going to do is make him feel guilty. That's what Melissa said happened to her dad. But when her Mom got into it too, he finally accepted it and started screwing her brains out every chance he got."

"You mean that Melissa's mom knows about this?"

"Sure, and so does Jennie's."

"I can't believe that a mother would let this happen."

"Let it happen. You want me to do it."

"Yes, Baby, but this is different. Your dad is so far down and..."

"The way my friends tell it, both of their moms know about it and are pleased with it. There is probably a lot more sex around their houses than there has been for years. At least that is what my friends say. So when do we do this, and what do we do to set it up? Dad won't be easy. He might just throw me out and disown me."

Diana's face hardened. "We can't wait any longer. I'm afraid Jeff will ask me for a divorce very soon. Once he makes up his mind, nothing will change it. So, tonight. We do it tonight. We have to plan. We've got to keep him busy this afternoon and evening until he goes to bed, so he doesn't have time to ask me for a divorce. He wouldn't just blurt it out. He would set me down somewhere, then tell me. We have got to make this work if we have to tie him up and have you rape him. It's got to work the first time!" she finished, desperation evident in her voice.

Glancing at her watch, "It's three now. We could get him to drive us down to rent some movies. We'll get something to eat, and maybe stop by a game room for you. That will stall him for awhile. Then you can insist he watch one of the movies with you. Then when he says he is going to bed, we..."

One part of Diana's mind seemed to separate itself from the present events. I can't believe I'm planning my own husband's seduction — by my daughter, no less. Oh, well, desperate times and all that, I guess. If he does divorce me and this all comes out ... oh, boy. What was it that famous pilot said? Something about you might as well go down in flames, instead of just trailing a little smoke. If this doesn't work, I'll sure be going down in flames — lots of flames.



-------

Chapter 8

Jeff had known something was up when Diana and Arlene came out on the deck. They wanted to pick up some movies, they said. Like the couple hundred DVDs in the theater were not enough. He told Diana to go on without him, but she insisted that she wanted him to drive because it might be dark when they got back. He tried to point out that it hadn't been getting dark out here until after nine, but she wouldn't have any of it. She said it was a little cloudy, and it might snow. She was afraid of the driveway, if it snowed. Shit, he thought, any sane person would be leery of that driveway without snow. So what. But he gave up.

Grumbling, he put on a clean shirt and drove them. They took forever in the movie rental place, then Arlene wanted to play video games and check out some of the kids in the area. Just like she did not have every video game imaginable back at the house — then they had to go eat. By the time they got back home, it was eight.

He just wanted to sit out on the deck, but Arlene said it was too cold, and wanted him to watch the movie with her. Diana brought them popcorn and cokes. Now, finally, the damn movie was over, and he could go to bed. He was tired and sleepy, and he wanted to think.

He did manage to take a shower. When he came out, Diana was sitting on the side of the bed wearing makeup (that is where she had gotten off to while they were finishing the movie), and a nightie that barely reached her groin. Her nipples poked against the outfit, obviously hard as rocks. She was going to try to have sex with him again, and he just was not in the mood.

As Jeff lay back on the bed, Diana rolled over, straddling his chest. Sliding down a little, she popped a breast out of her nightie and stuffed the bulging nipple into his mouth. He tried to push her away, but she hung onto the back of his neck with one hand and held her breast against his mouth with the other. He sucked on the nipple a little. Either that, or just throw her off him, and he was not ready for that, yet. He did not think he was exactly mad at her, he just felt sick, depressed. He could not get his mind off her squealing and humping her pussy up to Jack.

Diana milked her breast, stripping it toward her nipple. Jeff felt the thin, sweet milk spurt into his mouth. This lasted for a few moments. He could feel his cock swell and start to stand up, although he did not want it to happen. Diana pulled the nipple from his mouth and quickly shifted position, straddling his face. She sat her naked pussy squarely on his mouth. She smelled of strawberries and female. He felt his dick twitch in spite of himself.

"Diana," he mumbled, exasperated, but she lowered her pussy, putting pressure on his mouth. Again, he had the choice of throwing her off, or complying. He managed to get his nose free enough to get some air as she began slowly moving her pussy on his mouth. Hell, if she needs it that bad, I'll lick her twat a little. But I just don't have the energy to fuck her.

As his tongue hit her button, she clamped her knees against his head and squeezed. He tried to say something, but she shuddered, muttering to herself as her orgasm hit. He did like her playing with his dick, though. He thought it must be difficult for her to reach behind her to pull on his cock. She had not missed a stroke while she orgasmed. Then he felt a warm mouth surround his cockhead and an intermittent sucking began. It took a minute for his mind to figure that out. The only possible answer just couldn't be what was happening. He tried to push Diana away, but she clamped down harder and orgasmed again, wailing like some kind of cat in heat.

He pushed harder against Diana's hips and she rolled to the side, coming to rest alongside him. As his vision cleared, he was looking straight into his daughter's eyes. The only problem was that she had his dick half embedded in her mouth. She was sucking avidly and pumping his cock with her hand. As their eyes met, she turned loose of his dick with her mouth and straddled him.

Still holding his dick, she guided it to her pussy and sat on him with all her weight.

"Arlene, what in the fuck are you doing?" he yelled as his cock wedged in her pussy and her downward motion stopped. Frowning from pain, she rose up a couple of inches and jammed down again. Unknown by Jeff, Arlene had lubed her pussy with something her mother had given her. Arlene desperately wanted her father all the way up inside her so that he could not get away as easily. The third time she raised and slammed down, Jeff's cockhead rammed against her cervix. She stiffened and wailed, both from pleasure and pain. Oh, I overdid it a little. That's not Jack or Arnie's dick I'm sitting on. It feels like I almost knocked my womb out my throat. She hesitated for a second, until things calmed down inside her. All his dick isn't in, but all of it isn't going in, at least not at this angle.

Almost frantic not to wait long enough for her father to get control of things, she rotated her hips, dragging Jeff's cockhead repeatedly across her cervix. It felt good to her, now that the pain was almost gone, and she thought it might turn her father on, too. It certainly was turning her on.

Jeff managed to sit partway up. "Arlene," he yelled, as she rapidly rotated her ass, interspersed with an up and down stroke, "have you lost your mind?"

Arlene wildly short-stroked, her breasts bouncing, an occasional fine stream of milk spurting from her nipples. She had pulled harshly on them while Jeff was in the shower, just to get her milk really flowing.

"Baby," Jeff said, grabbing her by her shoulders, "This is incest."

"Yeah, Dad. Isn't it great?" Arlene gasped. Grabbing her dad's head, she locked her mouth on his and sucked, her pussy spasming as her orgasm hit.

Almost before Jeff knew what was happening, his cock lurched and his seed pumped into his daughter. He gasped, let out a groan as his cock bucked again and sent another stream into the now giggling female.

Jeff collapsed on his back with Arlene hanging onto him. Her mouth again clasped to her father's. His cock twitched once more, but did not go down a bit. He managed to get his breath back after a moment and peeled his daughter off his mouth. Getting her off his cock was harder, her legs were locked against his hips, and his dick seemed to have a mind of its own. It did not want to come out of her tight pussy, and her constant milking him wasn't helping any.

Rolling her to the side, he managed to extract himself, his dick making a sound as it, and an obscene amount of come, came out of Arlene. He stared at his daughter's pussy a moment as another wad of his come oozed out, then wheeled on Diana. "What the fuck is going on?" he yelled.

Before Diana could say anything, Arlene got back up on her knees and pushed at her Dad. "Lie back down," she yelled, just as loudly. Looking at her mother, who had tears in her eyes, she said, "Mom, get out of here now. Dad and I have got to have a talk, and if you're here, all you two will do is fuss. Hurry Mom. Please don't argue with me; just get out of the bedroom. I'll be out in a little while."

Diana looked at her daughter. Jeff was red-faced mad. Her last hope had been destroyed. Arlene pushed at Diana's shoulder, "Now, Mother. Please."

Diana got up and left without a backward glance, shutting the door behind her.

Arlene turned to her father. "Hush, Daddy. Don't say anything."

"Don't tell me to hush. I'm your father. I'll..."

"You'll what, Father? You'll whip me? You have never whipped me in my life. Yeah, I know I'm just a kid, but in two weeks I'll be sixteen. When Mom was sixteen, I was two, is that not about right? I'm a woman now, just like your wife was when she was my age. And yes, I know I'm still a girl, too. But this is one time that a parent is going to listen to a fifteen-year-old, or I swear, if you leave, or divorce my mother, I promise you, I promise you, that I will be a whore before I am seventeen.

That got his attention. Jeff knew his daughter had inherited his stubbornness. "Listen, Punkin," he said, trying to calm the situation down. He knew he had been set up. He was still trying to figure out what to do, and just why he had been set up, about the what, he didn't have a clue, but he was beginning to have a glimmer about the why.

Arlene did not give him any time to think; however, she climbed astraddle again and looked down at him. She was buck-naked still, her nipples rock-hard and sticking out from the emotional situation, her pussy leaking thick come. She slid down a little, but did not try to put her pussy over his dick, which was now flaccid. Jeff pulled himself up on the pillow. His naked daughter sitting on his groin did not put him on the highest ground, argument-wise. He had never seen Arlene so angry. Somehow, her anger had washed his away.

"Listen, Baby, your mother and I are having some problems. I..."

"Problems? You call what you are having problems? This has gone on long enough. Yeah, I know the woman you love, fucked someone else, and she came like a 'whore, ' to quote her, but something has got to give. Don't say anything," she admonished when Jeff tried to speak. "I'm going to have my say, and if we can't settle this, then I will be the one leaving. And if you have any doubt about whether I will follow through, then you had better reevaluate what you know about me. I, like you, always follow through with what I start. I am dead serious about this. Now listen to me." Arlene didn't even realize that tears were streaming down her face.

"You have never had any trouble with me, just like you told that man. The worst thing I ever did, before Jack did that to me, was beat Arnie's meat. I mean it, Daddy, I can not think of anything that I have done, unless you could count my masturbating and fantasying about you."

"What, I, uh..."

"Is that bad, Daddy? If it is, then you can add that to the other. I was gullible. You used other words, but that's what you meant. All Jack had on me was my masturbating Arnie. But I was stupid enough to believe that shithead when he said he would show the pictures to you and Mom, and that you would never let me see Arnie again. I was in love with Arnie — may still be, I don't know. I'm all confused about that — but I wanted to marry him. But the biggest thing is that I didn't want you to see those pictures, because I didn't want to lose your respect. I didn't want to let you down. I was devastated, and Jack didn't give me time to think, he kissed me, hard, pulled on my nipples and kept on with things like that until he got his dick in. I couldn't help it."

"I know Baby. That is one of the reasons that I'm glad I kicked his ass, I..."

"I know, Daddy, and I appreciate that. I didn't mean to lose my virginity like that. I had rather have given it to my father, or to Arnie."

"What? Arlene you don't know what you are saying."

"Oh, I know really well what I am saying, but that is not what I want to talk about right now. Mom got run over by Jack, just like I did. Then coerced into fucking him, or he would show you those pictures — and the principal. But that's not the problem. No, it is not. What's wrong is that your ego got run over by Jack, just like Mom. Don't say anything. Stop and think. We don't know exactly what you did for the military, but it was important, dangerous, and you did it well. You fought through high school with a wife and kid — I've heard Mom tell about it time and again. Then you fought through college. Then you fought in the military. You have always won. Oh, you fought hard, all right, and I'm sure that it was hard going at times, but you always won. You never really lost at anything until you saw your wife acting like a whore, fucking Jack.

"Yeah, she was prissing around in heels with a 120 hanging out of her mouth, acting like a bar whore trying to attract a man. But that was the deal with Jack. He liked it. When we didn't do it, he knocked the shit out of us. We made a deal with him. All the pussy and blowjobs he wanted, with us acting like sluts, until you got back, then it was all to end. Maybe he would have let us off, maybe he would not have, but that was the deal.

"Then you came in and caught us fucking without your knowing all the background, and your wife was coming harder for this guy than she ever had for you. Bang! Dead ego. And, yeah, girls know about guys' ego. We laugh and kid about it, but every guy worth anything has one. And yours was as big as one could be, before you came face to face with reality. The reality was that some punk could please your wife better than you ever could."

Jeff had just slumped back listening to his daughter repeatedly referring to Jack fucking his wife.

"Now that I've really gotten your attention, let me tell you some more things. To begin with, men don't have a clue. Part of this is coming from my mom, so I'm paraphrasing some here. Guys want to fuck a woman's brains out when she wants to be made love to, and want to love her gently when she sometimes needs her brains fucked out. According to my mother, you have seldom, if ever, fucked her. You make gentle love to her. Well, let me give you that clue, buster. She needs her brains fucked out."

"You," Arlene said, spinning her upper body around and grabbing his flaccid dick, then looking back at him, "have got a whole lot more equipment than Jack or Arnie, so why can't you fuck your wife unconscious? Jack did. Are you going to let a punk like that be a better fuck than you? A better man?" she hissed, letting go of his dick.

"Why, if you never gave up on anything else, are you going to give up on your wife? You spent years making us rich, and now all you do is sit on the deck and mope. If you can't figure it out yourself, you need to play those tapes over and over again, and take lessons from Jack. He didn't make love to Mom; he fucked her. When she asked him to go easy, he rammed into her. When she said his cock hurt her, he rotated his ass and fucked harder. I know. Trust me, I know. He did it to me and it made me come, again and again. Poor Arnie, in the beginning, made love to me, but after Jack, it didn't turn me on. When Arnie got pissed and refused to let us tell him no, I started having orgasm's for him, just like Jack, and Arnie's dick is smaller than Jack's, let alone yours." As she moved, she grimaced, and muttered half to herself, "Shit, I feel like I just had a log stuck up me."

Looking Jeff in the eye again, she continued, "This one time, you're going to do something that just isn't part of your nature toward your wife. I know you love her, and you're afraid of hurting her, but women, at least these two women, have to know that the man between their legs is a man and maybe even her master, when he is fucking her. I don't mean that you can't make love to your wife, or me, but right now, Mom needs the man that never took no for an answer from a hard life, to get his ego back.

"I'm going to tell you just exactly what to do. My Mom and I are in this together, except she didn't know that I was going to have this little talk with you. We thought we could get you hot enough to keep on fucking me, and then she would join in. But you didn't, so if you want your wife back, and your marriage to continue, and your daughter to stay home, and not be a whore, here is what you do..."

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff, still stunned, walked into Arlene's room and found Diana lying on the bed. He really did not want to be here; he had rather just go back to bed and forget it, but Arlene had promised she would leave tomorrow, or he would have to tie her up to keep her here. Even if he did, she would leave as soon as she could, and she would fuck the first guy she saw. The problem was: he knew she would throw her life away to make her point.

Diana was lying face down, her head on her arm, obviously still crying. He wanted to put his hand out and stroke her, or just leave, but he steeled himself to follow Arlene's instructions.

Jeff reached over, took Diana's arm, and pulled her to her feet. She staggered a little, looking at him, trying to figure out what he was doing. He pressed her against the wall, putting his mouth on hers, not just kissing, but pressing his mouth hard against her lips. He sucked hard, his mouth partially open, then forced his tongue past her lips. He knew he was hurting her lips as he pressed them against her teeth. With his left hand pulling her forcibly to his chest, he pulled the negligée down past her breasts. She was trying to kiss him back, but he rammed his tongue as far into her mouth as he could, at the same time finding her left nipple. He knew how she liked him to gently roll her nipples between thumb and finger, and he did that for a moment before squeezing tighter, and twisting harder.

Diana squealed into his mouth, pushing against him, trying to get her hand to her breast. What the fuck is he up to? He must have figured out that we set him up. Now he has lost it. "Jeff, stop it," she mumbled into his mouth.

Jeff changed from twisting her nipple to milking her breast. He reached about halfway up her breast and stripped his fingers to the end of the nipple, tightening his grip as his fingers slid along her nipple. A few of these, and she was really mad, but he just kept the pressure on her mouth, sucking her mouth as hard as he could, rubbing his lips and mouth against hers. He had withdrawn his tongue, afraid she would bite it.

Wedging her against the wall, he took the hand from behind her, and covered her pussy with it. She did not have on any panties. You made a mistake that time. Your pussy is vulnerable. He found her clit and began rubbing it too hard. If this doesn't work, there is a good chance this will be my last piece of pussy for a while — maybe a long while.

He abandoned her clit and stuck his middle finger up her hole. By now, Diana was bucking and sincerely trying to fight. Suddenly, she tensed up, shivered, mumbled something into his mouth, and came — hard. Shit, she really can't keep from coming. I would have thought she was too mad at me to come. I know damn well she is mad. She tried to bite me twice.

He slammed his middle finger up her hole faster, while continuing to pull on her nipple. He could feel wet on his chest where her milk was spraying. Diana violently shivered and came again, this time moaning into his mouth. Jeff pulled his mouth from hers with an audible pop, letting go of her breast at the same time. Diana's knees gave out and she started to slide down the wall, but Jeff was already slinging her over his shoulder before the orgasm had finished.

He stepped into the hallway with his burden. He could hear her trying to ask what was happening, but she could not seem to get out a coherent sentence. A few steps later, and he tossed her on their bed in the master suite. He watched her breasts bounce as she hit the bed on her back. Her face, breasts and upper chest were flushed. He did not know whether it was the anger, the orgasms, or the combination that caused the flush, but he had never seen her this flushed.

Before she could sit up, he pulled the straps down her arms and off, leaving the negligée hanging around her waist. "Jeff, uh ... why don't we just make love?"

Jeff wanted to kiss and hold her, but noticed Arlene standing well to the side, shaking her head. She made a lewd motion with her hand that obviously meant for Jeff to fuck her mother.

Remembering Arlene's instructions, he said, "If you want to be a whore, then let's fuck. Get on your belly and stick your cunt in the air. I'm going to put a load in you so you can compare it with Jack's."

"Oh, Darling, I'm sorry. But please, let's just make love. I want to hold you in my arms and feel you inside me."

"Bull shit. Shut the fuck up about making love. What you want is for that scumbag to fuck you like he did back there. Well your punk won't be able to get his dick up for a long time to come, if ever, if I broke what I think I broke. But you're going to get fucked, anyway."

"Jeff, please. I've never seen you this way. You're scaring me."

Jeff almost folded, but he saw Arlene violently shaking her head. Instead, he grabbed an arm and rolled Diana to her belly. Swatting her ass with the palm of his hand, he commanded, "Get on your knees and scoot your ass over to the side of the bed! You like to fuck, Baby. Well, you're going to get your wish."

When she did not move, he grabbed her hips and yanked her to the side of the bed. "Now, stick your cunt in the air, and drop your belly."

Jeff did not realize that Arlene had set a video camera up on the tripod, and would not have cared, had he noticed. At first, it had been an act, but his anger had taken over now. He dropped his shorts and took his hard dick in his hand. "From what I could tell, I have a couple of inches in length, plus a little more girth than your lover boy," he said, understating.

Diana was becoming more frightened by the minute. She had been afraid Jeff was going to divorce her. She had never dreamed that he would become this enraged, but enough was enough. I want him to make love, not fuck me like some slut. He's too strong for me to fight, but I'm sure not going to stick my tail in the air like a slut in heat.

Whap! Her ass stung like fire as Jeff swatted her with his hand. Diana jerked her ass forward, trying to get away, but Jeff got an arm under her belly and pulled her back to the edge of the bed. Whap! Same place, twice as hard.

Diana let out a yowl that was punctuated by another smack with his hand. Surely, that hurts the bitch worse than me, and my hand is stinging like crazy. As he drew back for another swing, he bumped into Arlene's hand. Jeff first thought that she was trying to stop him spanking her mother, but realized that she was trying to hand him a hairbrush. "Yeah," he said, and commenced to fire Diana's ass up with the back of the brush.

After five of six licks with the hairbrush with Diana now screaming at the top of her lungs, he stuck the handle of the brush in his mouth, centered his dick on her flushed and swollen pussylips, and shoved hard. Holding her hips with both hands, it took four hard pushes before his cockhead slammed into her cervix. That produced a note that actually hurt his ears.

"Fuck around on me, bitch," he slurred around the brush handle. Frustrated, he grabbed the brush and set about blistering her ass for real. Diana thrashed and screamed. He got a bit wild while trying to hit her thrashing ass, and landed a glancing blow on his dick. "Oh, shit." He froze for a second, dropped the brush, and trying to ignore the pain, reached forward and grabbed her breasts for leverage. He machine-gunned his dick, hammering her cervix on almost every stroke, trying to push all his dick inside her — trying to knock her womb out through her throat.

Jeff had controlled his temper when he beat Jack's ass. He had known that he would kill Jack unless he did. But now, all the anger came out that he had been holding in since that night. It felt good to let it out, to say nothing about the sexual tension in his balls — they would be next, he thought, grinning to himself.

"Like to act like a slut, huh bitch. Well, get that head up and look in the mirror. Give me a look like the prissy bitch you are." He rotated his hips, grinding his cockhead across her cervix, something he would never have done, before. "Arlene," he yelled, "bring the slut a cigarette, so she can priss for me like she did for her boyfriend — with the emphasis on boy," he finished.

Diana bucked and shivered. Damn, she's coming. "Hand her the cigarette," he commanded. "Take it, bitch. And if you don't look sexy like you did for Jack, I'm going back to the brush. And if I do, I'm really going to light your cheating ass up."

To Jeff's amazement, Diana took the unlit cigarette, placed it delicately in her mouth, turned her head to the side so he could see her profile, and pulled on the cigarette. Seeing her cheeks hollow slightly, which emphasized her high cheekbones, almost made him lose it. He stroked her with varying strokes, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, several gentle strokes, then without warning, rammed her cervix. Diana squealed, dropped her belly and tried to ram her pussy farther onto his dick. She came, and kept coming. As soon as one orgasm would fade, Jeff would pound her cervix and she would come again. Her pussy was about to squeeze his dick off.

Jeff couldn't stand it any longer. Reaching under his wife, he grabbed both nipples and milked them as hard as he could. He bored his cock ruthlessly into her cervix, stopped, short stroked, grunted and shot a load straight into her womb. The stream was so hard that it stung his dick as the sperm pumped through it. Her mouth forming an "O" of surprise, Diana dropped the cigarette, and promptly fainted.

Five long spurts later, the world was spinning for Jeff, as he pulled her ass to him, trying to shove his cock into her womb. He was done, his body exhausted from the stress, fucking, and the strongest orgasm he had ever had in his life. He slumped forward onto Diana. Only then did he notice that she was completely limp, and her breathing was ragged.

Jeff realized that Arlene was standing next to him, but had no idea how long she had been there. "I shut the camera off after she fainted. Boy, I'll bet there aren't many families with a video like that one," she said, giggling. "It gives new meaning to 'family video.'"

Jeff didn't know what to say, so he checked his wife, but she was still dead to the world. I have never felt her squeeze my dick when she comes like she did on that last one. It felt good soaking in Diana's pussy, especially since she was still pulsing every now and then.

Arlene picked up the cigarette, lit it while looking at her Dad, and sat down on the bed, still naked. Her nipples were hard and swollen, Jeff noted. She did not seem to be ashamed in the least sitting in front of her father. "When are you going to fuck me like that, Daddy?"

Words just did not seem to want to form. A show of modesty was more than a little bit ridiculous at the moment, so he said something intelligent, like, "Well, uh..."

Arlene blew a stream of smoke at him while moving her finger across her clit. "I came about a dozen times while watching you fuck Momma's brains out."

He would have liked to have left his dick in a little longer, but Diana's pussy pushed his flaccid cock out. Arlene took a last drag off her cigarette and put it out in the ashtray. "Roll over, Big Boy, and I'll see what I can do for your crippled instrument."

"Look, Arlene, I'm still your father," he began.

"Don't even start, Dad," her voice loud. "You're going to fuck me if I have to rape you. We're all in this together. What has happened has marked me, to use an overused adult term, and changed me from the naive little girl of a couple of weeks ago. Do you expect me to listen to mother yelling like a banshee, every time you fuck her, and not get some of that fabulous dick of yours? Your cock felt so good awhile ago when you shot off in me."

Jeff interrupted. "Look, Baby, I couldn't help that. It wasn't as if I were participating, you know."

While he was talking, Arlene reached down and stuck his sperm-covered dick into her mouth, applying suction. Her cheeks hollowed and she winked at him as he tried to sit up and push her away. His mind was all for pushing, he supposed, but his dick wanted her to suck some more. He fell back on the bed. Oh, shit. Oh, well, as Diana says, "In for a penny, in for a pound." I can't believe I am letting my daughter suck my cock. And where did she learn to do it so well? As if I didn't know.

Arlene sucked and licked, while her hand pulled at the base of his cock. Seeing him watching her, she winked again. Said dick stood up like it was attached to a teenager. He laughed to himself; in a way, he guessed, it was.

Diana shifted beside him, and snuggled against him, obviously back in the world. She was making a noise. It sounded like purring. She kissed his neck and burrowed into his shoulder, pressing her breasts against his side. She's never made a noise for me like that before.

Looking down at her daughter, she smiled, giving Arlene the thumb and circle sign, out of Jeff's sight.

Arlene let go his dick and came to her hands and knees. "Let's go, Daddy. I'm about to die I'm so hot."

"Fuck her Jeff. I swear that was the best sex I have ever had. Give her some of what I got."

Jeff felt his temper flare. "I doubt it was the best you ever had. You looked like you enjoyed Jack a lot more, and he didn't even have to spank you to get you hot."

"Jeff, that's not right, and it's not fair, either. Jack did make me hot, and I came a bunch of times, and yes, I fainted once when he was licking my pussy against my will, but, I swear to you, I have never come that hard in my life. I thought you were going to kill me — and I didn't even care. I just wanted you to come in me. Don't be mad. I'll do anything you want, not just today, but anytime you want."

Jeff leaned over and looked at her red ass. "Your ass is red."

Diana pushed at him a little. "You know it's red. You're the one who made it that way. I can't lie on my back just yet."

"Expect some more. I'm still pissed about your fucking Jack."

"Hey, you two. This isn't the time for bickering," Arlene said. Dad is going to keep on fussing, and he won't ever fuck me unless I do something. He is still pissed at Momma, big time. Realizing her Dad still had problems with his ego, she decided to sidetrack him for awhile. Sliding forward, she guided his dick to her opening. As Jeff protested, she eased down, forcing the head to pop in. She leaned forward, and shoved a breast at his mouth. "Come on, suck my titty, Daddy. I need some help here."

"Baby, this isn't right..." But Jeff was staring at the nipple of her left breast, only inches from his mouth.

"Quit staring cross-eyed at it and suck it for me," Arlene giggled. "Besides, Mom has already told you to fuck me. How much more permission do you need?"

Jeff tentatively sucked the nipple into his mouth. Arlene hissed a "Yesssss," then pushed her pussy down his cock in one long, slow glide until the head pressed against her cervix. She had wiped herself off after Jeff had shot off in her before, but a lot of his come was still inside her, lubricating her tight channel.

When Jeff's cockhead hit her cervix, Arlene grunted, then moaned as she slowly rotated her hips. Her pussy was stinging. Apparently he had torn her a little when she had pushed down on him so aggressively before, but she didn't care. She was going to fuck him this time, and hopefully, get him to fuck her back.

Jeff sucked harder and placed his hand on her breast, squeezing it gently.

"Don't be gentle, Daddy. Not now, anyway. Suck hard and milk my tit, like you did to Momma."

Arlene continued rotating her hips, causing his cock to slide across her cervix. Jeff forgot himself and pulling back slightly, humped upward. Arlene squealed and thrust back at him. "Suck harder," she said, breathlessly.

Damn, no man can resist this. I've tried, but she is so damn sexy. I can taste her milk. Her pussy feels like it's going to have my dick for lunch.

He sucked harder, then hunched harder. Ah, shit. I can't stand this. I have to get where I can push my dick in deeper. Jeff grabbed her ass and rolled to the left, away from Diana, until he had Arlene on her back. He flipped her legs up on his shoulders, drew back and rammed as hard as he could. Arlene made a sound a lot like her mother had. She squeezed his head with her legs, shivered, and came.

Crap. Putting her legs on my shoulders maybe wasn't the best idea I ever had. She about took my right ear off, but her pussy surely feels good massaging my cock while she is coming.

When the throes of her passion subsided enough for him to pull his cock back, he rammed in again. Then set up a rhythm of hard thrusts for a few times, then holding firmly against her cervix, then hard thrusts again. Every couple of dozen thrusts, Arlene squealed, violently shivered and came. Jeff kept it up. He had already come twice in the past hour, so he just kept pounding.

Sweat started to really flow after ten minutes or so. He was starting to tire, so he slowed the rate, but continued thrusting just as hard into his daughter. Arlene's breasts were bounding, at times, together. Other times, they would bounce away from each other a little, then back, setting up a bouncing jiggle that Jeff could hardly take his eyes off.

Arlene continued to stare at her father, grunting and encouraging him, when she could speak at all. She had counted twenty-three orgasms when they seemed to be coming so close together that she could not count them any more. She could not talk any more, either, and her grunts each time Jeff bottomed out, were becoming more and more interspersed with squeals. The constant bouncing of her breasts had stimulated them to spray fine streams of milk. Her nipples were tingling like she had never felt them, unless they were being sucked really hard. Her father kept slamming into her, and driving into her cervix with the head of his cock.

He's going to kill me. I can't get enough air. I can't stop coming. That's my Daddy ramming his cock up me. Oh, it feels like he's going to break something inside me.

Jeff watched the emotions play across his daughter's face, that is, when he could manage to take his eyes off her bouncing breasts for a second or two. Suddenly, he felt his prostate cramp. Then his sperm rushed through his dick so hard he could feel it all the way. As the first geyser of high-pressure semen left the end of his dick, he rammed into Arlene's cervix and held. His cock jumped like it had a life of its own.

Jeff groaned, grabbed Arlene's hips, pulling her pussy to him as he pushed inward for all he was worth. He felt her cervix open a little and the tip of his cock push partway into the opening. With the tip of his dick embedded, the second gush came, then a third, and finally, a fourth.

Arlene's squeals became screams as she felt his seed go into her womb. Then one long scream until she ran out of air and collapsed. She took one heaving breath, and fainted.

Jeff shivered out the last few drops of sperm and collapsed on Arlene, letting go her legs, which dropped back to the bed. He forced himself to catch most of his weight on his elbows and forearms, but her milk-wet breasts felt good under his heaving chest. He could still feel tremors in her pussy, and an occasional hard grip as the aftershocks of her orgasms faded. He did have presence of mind enough to make sure he did not obstruct her breathing with his weight.

Arlene's mouth was partially open, her sexy lips swollen and flushed. She made a faint hiccup every now and then.

"Well, that's two for two," Diana said, in an awed voice, despite trying to keep her voice normal. Jeff had pissed her off with his remarks earlier, but pissed or not, he had just fucked Arlene unconscious. Arlene had never fainted when Jack or Arnie fucked her. Vaguely remembering her own screams, she wondered if she had sounded anything like Arlene had. She was afraid she had. It's a good thing we live way out here by ourselves, we would have had the neighbors calling the police at our old house.

Diana tried to put Jeff's comments aside. Now is the time for me to get my man back. Oh, he fucked the shit out of me, but he hasn't forgotten, or forgiven. She leaned over and gently kissed his cheek as he stared at his daughter. "I love you, Jeff. I am so very, very glad that you talked me into getting into that back seat that night." When he looked at her, she continued, "I'll always love you, and I swear that I will make you proud of me again." She hugged him as her daughter gasped and sputtered.

"Oh, shit," she said in a tiny voice.

That's about the highest compliment that she could give her dad,  Diana thought. Then aloud, "My sentiments exactly."

"You better move, Babe. I can't hold myself up much longer."

Diana grinned and slid over as Jeff pulled his cock out of his daughter, producing a small title wave of come to add to the several other wet spots on the bed. As he collapsed on his back with a sigh, his cock flopped over on his leg, looking about as exhausted as its master.

"I'm too old for this."

Arlene hiccupped for real, a loud sudden sound that caused them all to laugh. Arlene did it again right in the middle of laughing, then grabbed her mouth.

Diana slid over, then off the bed, trying to miss the places her pussy had drooled sperm. "I'll get you a glass of water," she said, as Arlene hiccupped regularly, every ten seconds or so.

As Diana handed Arlene the water, she looked at Jeff and grinned. He broke down laughing.

"Why are you guys laughing?" Arlene tried to say, but there was a hiccup in the middle of it.

Diana giggled. "Baby, we're not laughing at you. I just thought that your dad just fucked me unconscious, then did the same to you. He didn't fuck a baby into you because we're on the pill, but he sure fucked a case of the hiccups into you."

"Mother," Arlene exclaimed, dragging the word out.

Diana leaned over and pressed her lips to her husband's mouth. After a moment, he put his arms around her and kissed her back. Arlene put the glass on the end table and said. "Hey, it's my turn." As Diana pulled back, Arlene kissed her dad. It, of course, was not a daughterly kiss. She rubbed her breasts on his chest, slowly dragging her nipples through his chest hair, her tongue dueling with his.

"Eeewww."

Jeff looked at her with a questioning expression on his face. "There is come everywhere and I just rubbed my hip in a puddle. You come more than Jack did." Seeing the look on her father's face, she apologized, "Sorry, I guess I shouldn't mention that name. But you do, and you did. I didn't know guys had so much of that stuff in them. Where does it come from?"

In spite of himself, Jeff laughed. At least she had said that he came more than Jack. That took the edge off a little, but he knew it would be a long time before things got straight in his mind about Jack.

"Jeff," Diana said. "I know we all need a shower, and the bed needs to be changed, but first I want to tell you something. I've already told you how much I love you, but, and I don't really know how to say this. And a couple of days ago, I would never have believed that I would..."

"Diana, I'm getting lost here."

"Yeah, I know. It's, well ... Arlene and I talked before she attacked you, and we, uh ... We agreed that we want this to continue. At least we thought we did. Now we're sure. At least I am, and I think Arlene feels the same."

"You know I do, Mom."

"Jeff, we can't go back to where we were. And I don't want Arlene out screwing around. I want her right here. If nothing else, we've become far closer than we have ever been. We're a bit more than just mother and daughter, now. When I was watching you fuck her a few minutes ago, I was so hot that I about rubbed my clit raw. I know I should have been jealous, but I wasn't. Not even a little bit. I can't guarantee that I will never be jealous, but right now, it feels right. And I know it's for the best for us to continue this.

"I guess what I'm saying is that we were both afraid that, even if this worked tonight, that you would get up in the morning and go back to the old routine. I can't stand to see my husband staring into space for hours on end, especially with all the good things that happened to us a few days ago. We want to sleep beside you tonight, and every night for the foreseeable future."

Arlene interrupted with, "Dad, I've grown up a lot in the last couple of weeks. Some of it has been bad, but tonight wiped out those bad times for me. Your treating me like a woman makes me feel like one. I want to be your woman. Your second woman. And I don't want it to end, ever."

Jeff did not know what to say. He started to tell Arlene that it just could not be, that they were father and daughter, but the look on her face would not let him. "We'll see, Punkin. We'll see."

Diana broke in with, "Why don't you two get in the shower, and I'll change the bed."

"Not a chance, Mom. He is going to take a shower with both his women. Besides, that shower is big enough for four people. Three will fit just fine. You and I can change the bed after we have showered with our master."

Diana laughed. "Well, he sure 'mastered' us in the last couple of hours."

Arlene grabbed her father's hand and mock pulled him off the bed, herding him toward the shower. As soon as the three were in the shower and the water temperature adjusted properly, Arlene kissed her dad and then her mother, completely startling Jeff, who had never seen them kiss like lovers. Arlene lathered her hands and massaged Jeff's groin, pulling on his dick from time to time.

"Easy, Punkin," he laughed, "that thing is about done for, at least for a while, and it's a bit tender, besides."

"Oh, poor Mr. Dick. Let me kiss him and make him better." She dropped to her knees and took the head of his cock into her mouth.

Jeff sucked in his breath with a hiss as those wonderful lips encircled his cock. Arlene continued for several moments, sucking and slowly moving her mouth on his cock while Diana kissed him, but his cock stayed soft.

Arlene giggled. "I think we've killed Mr. Dick, Mom."

"My pussy is in about the same shape. I can surely tell where you have been, Jeff. I'm afraid that you won't get any pussy in the morning. Not if I'm as sore as I think I'm going to be. I'll remember you every step I take tomorrow," she said, giggling.

Arlene gave up trying to get Jeff's dick up and, instead, washed his back. Jeff got into the spirit of things by soaping Diana's breasts and pulling on her nipples.

"Hey, me too," Arlene said, sticking her breasts against Jeff's chest.

The shower wound up taking thirty minutes, but they were absolutely certain that every part of their bodies was clean. Jeff had "checked" out their pussies several times with his fingers and finally, his tongue. Both girls had come several more times.

They got out and toweled each other off. Leaving Jeff sitting in a chair, they stripped the bed and remade it. In a few minutes, the lights were off and both women were snuggled up to Jeff. Each had an arm around him and their head on his shoulder.

Jeff thought about what had happened, and wondered how he would tell Arlene that this couldn't go on, but he fell asleep before even completing the thought.



-------

Chapter 9

Jeff was dreaming that a mermaid was sucking his dick. Somehow, hot coffee entered into the situation.

"Are you going to sleep all day, sleepyhead?" Diana said.

Jeff managed to get one eye open to see Diana standing by the bed wearing nothing but a smile. She was, however, holding a tray with a carafe of coffee and cups. He groaned as his dick jerked as Arlene licked the tip of it, then pushed her mouth down on the head, strongly sucking.

"Baby, if you keep that up I'm ... going ... to ... come," he said, drawing out the last word as Arlene forced as much of his cock into her mouth as she could. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard. Jeff grunted once and his cock jerked as he came in one long spurt.

Arlene gagged as his sperm hit the back of her throat, but gulped and swallowed several times in rapid succession. She held him in her mouth until he relaxed. Jeff shivered as she licked his cockhead, cleaning up a gob of sperm that she had missed. She gently kissed the tip, then grinned at him. "Are you in a better mood today, Master?"

Jeff fell back on the bed and put his forearm over his eyes, sighing. "I'll say one thing for that son-of-a-bitch. He taught you how to suck cock like a pro."

"And, how would you know how a pro sucks cock, if I might ask?" Diana said, a gleam in her eye, but halfway serious.

"Just an expression, Babe. The only two females I have ever had my dick in are right here."

Diana just looked at him, obviously wondering.

"Jack didn't teach me to suck cock, Daddy. Mother did."

"Well," Jeff said, laughing, "she did a hell of a job. I haven't awakened to a blowjob for a long time now," he said looking at Diana, "but I could certainly get used to it." Yeah, Jeff,  he said to himself, you were going to tell Arlene this couldn't go on, first thing this morning. Only thing is, first thing was a blowjob.

Diana, who had set the coffee tray on the table by the bed while they were talking, poured the coffee, fixing each cup, before handing one to her husband, then to Arlene.

After Jeff had a sip of coffee, Diana took the cup and placed it on the table, then sat by Jeff. He raised an eyebrow in question, but he figured it out soon enough when Diana leaned over and stuck a nipple in his mouth.

He didn't hesitate,  Diana thought. He didn't push me away. He just took my nipple and sucked it, and is now licking it the way I love. I was so afraid he wouldn't.

Jeff slid his hand down and gently touched her button as he pulled harder on the nipple. A few seconds later, she shivered and came, then made a contented sound when she came down.

Diana motioned for her daughter to move up the bed. As their eyes met, they silently communicated, and Diana moved aside. Arlene put her coffee on the floor and replaced her mother's nipple with hers. Jeff looked at his wife and she gave a slight nod. He repeated the process for his daughter, sucking her beautiful breast, only as Arlene got close, he bit down a little on the puffy nipple. Arlene came with a banshie wail and a spasm that left no doubt in anyone's mind that she enjoyed what her dad had done for her.

Jeff propped himself up in bed and everyone got their coffee back. After a few minutes of silence, as they sipped their coffee, Diana, in a tentative voice, said, "I want this to be the first day of the rest of our lives."

Jeff started to joke about her statement, but after noticing the look on Diana's face, he thought better about making a remark.

"Yeah, Dad, Mom has a good idea," Arlene said. "We got millions of dollars for your stuff, then we, basically, just came here and worried or moped. We haven't had a good time since we have been here."

Jeff laughed, sounding almost like his old self. "Oh, you didn't have a good time last night?"

"Oh, you know what I mean, Daddy," she said, blushing. "Before that."

"Yeah, I know, Kiddo. All I could think of was what had happened, and that my wife had betrayed me. And while we're talking about that, I guess I should say it aloud, although you two had already figured it out, I just couldn't get over my wife responding more to Jack than she ever had to me."

Diana started to say something, but Jeff shushed her. "No, let me finish. I guess my ego — I didn't even know I had one — must have suffered some." At a snort by both women, he hastily added, "Okay, got destroyed, then. But I found some things out last night. First off, my daughter is smart — perhaps wise would be a better word — well beyond her years," he said, smiling at Arlene, "and also that Jack pushed some buttons on you, Diana, that I had no idea were even there. It also seems that you" — he looked at his daughter — "have inherited more than just the ability to lactate when you're stimulated. You come just like your mother. Hell, maybe I shouldn't have screwed Jack up. He showed me how to fuck my wife," he said, bemusedly, "And, I have it on tape if I need to review."

"Does this mean that your ego is back in place now?" Arlene asked, giggling, but serious, nonetheless.

Jeff looked at her, then at Diana. "I would be lying if I said I'm one hundred percent. I still have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I can say that I love my wife, now," he said, looking at Diana. "And that I know that I can work through this," then grinning, "especially if I can have a few more of those morning blowjobs."

Arlene jumped on him wrestling with him, and Diana saved the coffee from spilling, as the wrestling changed to a tickling match. Jeff got Arlene on her back with his legs wrapped around hers with one arm trapped, and holding the other one. He found the place on her side that he used to tickle her when she was younger, and really went after her. Arlene squealed and thrashed about, but couldn't get away.

"Daddy, stop. I ... oh ... Daddy, stop quick," she managed between squeals, but Jeff did not let up.

Suddenly they all heard this little sound, that if a man had made it, would have been called a fart. It, however, was just a little sound, more appropriately called a poot — but it did not smell little. "I tried to tell you I had gas," Arlene said just before the bedroom door slammed. She could hear her parents laughing, then her mother squealing as her dad apparently tickled her. Arlene's smile turned into a big grin when, judging from the sounds, her parents chased each other out of the suite's sitting room and down the hall. She finished her coffee as she wondered what the family would do today. If I have my way, I'm going to get at least one load of come in my pussy, sore or not. And I'll bet Mom has about the same idea.

She decided to wait a while before going to the kitchen. Her Mom might just get that load a little early.

-------

Arlene snoozed for twenty minutes before picking up the coffee tray and cups, and heading for the kitchen. Ah, my timing was perfect,  she thought as she pushed the swinging kitchen door open a crack and heard rhythmic smacking sounds. She pushed the door on open and entered. Her dad had her mother bent over one of the counters, fucking her like crazy.

Arlene quietly set the tray near one of the sinks, sitting at the bar where she had a good view. If either of her parents heard her come in, they did not show it. Jeff was relentlessly pounding away, his balls swinging forward to bump against Diana's pussy on every stroke. Diana's long, conical breasts were jiggling and swaying to Jeff's rhythm.

They're both going to need a shower after this,  Arlene mused, noticing the sweat. She slid her middle finger into her pussy while brushing her thumb against her clit. With her other hand, she twisted her left nipple, and pulled on it. Her orgasm hit, almost causing her to slide off the bar seat.

As Arlene continued watching her parents, she thought, Boy, Mom is a real knockout, and my dad is no slouch himself. He has a cock to make a porn star envious, at least the ones in the two tapes Jennie and I sneaked from her dad.

Arlene could hear her mother mumbling about being sore, at the same time saying, "Yes, yes." She watched as her dad slowed to long hard strokes, holding for a couple of seconds while he was all the way in. He then gave a few, very fast, short strokes, grabbed her mom's tits and rammed all the way in and held, groaning.

Her mom bucked like she was trying to throw her dad off, screaming at the top of her lungs. Arlene could see her Dad's balls jerk up tight against his dick, and she knew her mother's womb was getting a sperm bath. If those pills don't work, there is going to be two pregnant females around here,  she thought. That brought on another orgasm for her that peaked and lasted for a long time before tapering off.

When Arlene could again notice her parents, they were lying on the floor with her mother's ass humped up a little bit, and her dad astraddle with his legs on the outside of her mom's. He still held to her breasts, slow-stroking her mother every now and then. Boy, Mom couldn't move if she had to. She's completely at Dad's mercy.

After a few minutes, her dad quit stroking, but continued lying on top of her mom with his dick soaking in her pussy. Arlene could see a thick trickle of come seeping from around her mother's plugged pussy. Her father eventually pulled out and helped her mom stagger to her feet. By the time she was upright, there was come running down her thigh.

"You guys were hot," Arlene said as they sat next to her at the bar.

Diana sat for a few moments, then picked up her cigarettes, and looking at Jeff, put one of the long, all-white cigarettes in her lips. She reached over and picked up her lighter, then sat straight up, her head held high, to light the cigarette. She touched the fire to the tip of the cigarette, drawing only enough for the cigarette to light. She put the lighter back on the counter, the cigarette still in her lips, then again with her head held high, pulled on the cigarette, hollowing her cheeks.

Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, she pursed her lips and blew the smoke upward. Where Jeff could not see, she winked at her daughter as she tapped her ash in the ashtray. Maybe Jack taught me a few things, too. And I'm going to use everything I can think of to make Jeff know I'm his woman, and his alone. If it hadn't been for Arlene, I would have lost him. I owe her too, but most of all, I owe Jeff.

-------

Later that morning Diana wandered around the outside of the house, wondering if she could have any type of flower garden at this altitude. The nights were cold even in late June, but the days had been in the high sixties — once into the low seventies. She decided that she and Arlene would make a trip to a nursery and ask what kind of plants they recommended. She wanted to make this monster that they were trying to call a house, hers. A flower garden, if it were possible, would be a start in that direction. The conference center/retreat was beautifully furnished, but she would like to do some redecorating in the master bedroom.

Entering the house, she went looking for Jeff and Arlene to tell them her plans. It still wasn't noon; they would have time to see about finding a nursery today if Jeff and Arlene were agreeable. She checked the living room and the theater, but did not find them. Thinking that Arlene might have decided to play some video games, she opened the door of the game room — and the green-eyed monster struck.

Diana stood as if rooted to the spot. Jeff had Arlene bent over the pool table, much as he had Diana earlier in the kitchen. Diana felt her face flush, and her anger kindle. She had to force herself calm. I instigated this, even asked Arlene to fuck Jeff, but it's one thing to be there, and another thing, altogether, to walk in and find them doing it. They could have, at least, asked my permission,  she inwardly fumed. No, that's ridiculous. Jeff would never come and ask. If that were part of the criteria, he just wouldn't have sex with her at all, and we would be right back where we were yesterday — with Jeff ready to ask me for a divorce. Somehow, I have to get past this.

Arlene hung onto the rail of the table with her ass stuck as high as she could manage. Jeff slammed his cock into her, his knees bent a little, angling his dick slightly upward, obviously aiming for Arlene's cervix. From Arlene's comments, he was dead on.

"Oh, Daddy, shit, that hurts," Arlene whined. But she did not lend much credibility to her complaint when she came, squealing and thrashing her ass from side to side. Her long tits bounced and jiggled as her hair fell into her eyes.

As Diana quietly walked into the room, Arlene tossed her hair to clear her face. As she turned her head to look at her dad, she noticed her mother standing near the door. She mouthed her a kiss and winked.

It's almost like I caught him with another woman,  Diana mused. How am I ever going to be able to get used to this? She wanted to go screaming over to Jeff and yell for him to get his dick out of their daughter. Boy, now that would be a bit on the bipolar side. Instigate it one day, then scream at him for doing it the next. Diana, you idiot, you can't start being jealous now. If I say anything, Jeff will doubtless stop fucking Arlene, then probably stop fucking me, too. Then where will I be? I had rather have him fucking me and my daughter, than neither of us. I've got to get over this. If I start being catty now, no telling what Jeff will do. He definitely hasn't forgotten. This is exactly the way Arnie fucked Arlene in our old playroom with Jeff taping it. Ah, crap. I'm so damned confused.

Fighting to master her jealousy, Diana walked over to the fucking couple, knelt down beside Arlene and took one of her breasts in her hand. She pulled on the nipple for a moment, starting Arlene's milk, then leaned over and took the nipple in her mouth, sucking as hard as she could, hollowing her cheeks. Arlene and Jeff groaned in unison. Arlene, because of the warm mouth sucking her nipple so nicely; Jeff, because he had never seen his wife do this. He had seen them kiss in the shower and wondered, but this completely blew his mind, and,  his load a few seconds later.

Jeff rammed into his daughter as hard as he could and held, his legs shaking from the strain of standing in the position, and the violence of his orgasm as his sperm traveled through his cock and shot into his daughter. The first spurt bathed her cervix. He drew back a little, rabbit hunched for a couple of strokes, then pushed the tip a little into the slightly dilated opening to her womb, and spurted again. His vision tunneled as two more spurts followed in quick succession. Arlene's pussy pulsed and spasmed as her climax climbed higher and higher. Her pussy clamped so tightly to him that it almost hurt his cock, producing a final spurt and a weaker groan from Jeff as the last of his semen pumped into his pretty daughter.

Arlene slumped forward onto the pool table, forcing Diana to let go of her daughter's breast. After a few minutes, Jeff pulled his cock out, letting a torrent of come run from Arlene's swollen pussy. Diana looked at her husband's come slowly running down the inside of her daughter's thigh, and her own pussy flushed when Diana remembered how great it felt for her husband to come in her.

It had felt great when Jack and Arnie had come inside her, too, but she would never mention it to Jeff; although, he certainly knew this because of the way she had acted when Jeff had been watching. I wish Jeff had never seen me come with Jack or Arnie fucking me. He knows I will come when a man, any man, probably, comes in me. But maybe he will forget in time. I hope he will. I didn't want to fuck those two, but my body didn't ask my brain for permission to come. Shit. Will I ever get this straight in my own mind? No wonder Jeff was so screwed up. I sucked Jack's cock when it came out of my pussy. Jack expected it and demanded it.

Diana looked at her husband as he leaned back against the pool table catching his breath. Diana knelt in front of him and took his limp, but still-swollen, cock into her mouth. She gently cleaned it and sucked it while looking up at her husband. She knew it was a turn-on for a woman to look at a man while she sucked his cock, let alone clean it for him. Maybe this will help to convey that I am sorry for what happened.

As she looked at her husband, she realized that it was a tremendous turn-on for her as well, particularly when Arlene ran her hand up Diana's short skirt from behind and moved her finger across Diana's panty-covered clit. She came so hard, she almost bit Jeff. She hadn't realized she had been so close. Arlene giggled behind her, knowing how strongly her mother had come, and probably why.

Diana let Jeff's cock slip out of her mouth, and he staggered over to sit in one of the chairs. Forcing down her jealousy, she followed and sat in his lap. She kissed him as tenderly as she could, trying to tell him it was all right, before he picked up on her internal quandary.

Arlene sat in one of the other chairs and leaned back into the leather upholstery looking at her mother and dad, while Jeff's come puddled under her. "You guys look like you used to look."

"How is that, Punkin?" Jeff asked, still necking with his wife.

"Like you love each other, again. You know."

"We never stopped loving each other," Jeff replied. "Things just got a bit mixed up in my mind."

"Am I included in this now?" Arlene asked, tentatively.

"You always were."

"No, Dad. That's not what I mean. You loved me as your daughter then. But I just took your sperm up my pussy, and, I guess into my womb, as I did twice last night."

Before Jeff could reply, Diana, pushing her jealousy down, looked at her husband. "It's too late to go back, Darling," then speaking to her daughter, "I guess, like we said last night, he's just stuck with two women to love."

"I instigated this Jeff, as you know, to keep from losing you, but our daughter has not come out of this untouched, either. There is a part of me that does not like sharing you with a younger woman, especially one that is prettier than me, but I will gladly share to have my husband back. If I get a bit jealous from time to time, just love me until it passes. I promise that I am going to be the best wife I can possibly be."

"Mom, I'm not prettier than you. No one is. Everybody we meet thinks we're sisters, and you're the one that the men can't keep their eyes off of."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Diana laughed. "How about a trip to the nursery?"

"Nursery? Why would I want to go to the nursery? Neither of us is pregnant."

"Not the nursery upstairs," she laughed. "A plant nursery."

"Oh, crap," Jeff said. "Here we go. I can feel my back starting to hurt already from those holes I know I'll have to dig."

"It's not the thought of digging those holes that has your back hurting," Diana laughed. "It's trying to push your dick out your daughter's throat with her bent over the pool table that has your back hurting."

"I was not. I was just..."

"Yeah, I know. You were trying to get into her womb, but your dick wouldn't fit, so you just pushed a little harder. Right?"

"Well, I..."

Diana and Arlene both giggled. "Jeff, why in the world didn't you fuck me like that for the last sixteen years?"

"You said it hurt," Jeff defended himself.

Diana, now standing, leaned over and curled her finger under Jeff's chin, gently lifting up. "You never could tell when I said 'no' and meant 'yes, ' could you?"

Jeff just looked flustered.

"Look, Mom, I think Dad is blushing." And as Jeff got redder, "He is."

Diana laughed. "Put some clothes on tart, some pants, so we can lean over without getting your father all excited. We're going to go buy some flowers."

"Mom, flowers won't grow up here, will they?"

"Diana," Jeff tried, "the place is landscaped. The grounds are as beautiful as the center itself. Why are you going to buy flowers?" he grumped.

"Men. He hasn't got a clue," she said to her daughter as they went out the door to change. "You had better put some jeans on, Hon," she said over her shoulder. "Arlene and I like seeing what you have hanging between your legs, but I doubt if the nursery people will be as appreciative."

Well, crap. I guess we're going to a nursery. I hope there is one around here somewhere. But I'll bet I don't find one before we get to Boulder. Shit. Surely they won't want to go to Denver. I hate that fucking traffic. Jeff never thought about letting the women go alone. He got up to find some jeans. Why do women have to get the nesting instinct? And why does it have to involve digging holes? Then again, digging holes beats hanging curtains. Maybe they won't think about that.

-------

The nursery people were happy to sell Diana tons of stuff — to Jeff it felt like tons — that would live, and supposedly thrive, in the mountains. They even thoughtfully provided thick paper to keep the Escalade's carpet clean. The vehicle was now crammed full of plants, most of the names, Jeff could not even pronounce. At least he wouldn't have to vacuum the SUV when he got home.

Then they had to stop off for gardening tools. I've got a hundred and fifty-five million dollars in the bank, and I'm buying gardening tools,  he mused. But even though he pretended to grumble about it, he was enjoying it almost as much as the women. The vehicle smelled like a jungle according to Jeff, but Diana and Arlene thought it smelled great.

I've got to unload all this stuff when we get back,  Jeff thought as he tried to see through the plants to pull out onto the highway. He gave up and had Diana look out her window and direct him. Then, of course, they had to stop and eat. It was almost nine when they finally got back to the house. Jeff adamantly refused to unload the SUV until morning, expecting Diana to want it done today, but to Jeff's amazement, she did not argue with him

"Surely, they can live through the night in the car," she said. She and Arlene hurried into the house, leaving Jeff figuratively scratching his head. He had been certain they would want to put some of the stuff out tonight, it was not completely dark, yet, and the grounds would be well lit even when it did get dark. They hassled me all the way back about getting started setting things out today, then when we get home, they just go into the house. I will never understand women.

Jeff stopped by the kitchen and got a diet Coke, then went into the living room and turned on the TV. Within minutes, he was sound asleep. He needed the rest. He knew he would be digging a great many holes tomorrow.

-------

Arlene and Diana were in the suite they had been using for their bedroom. Arlene was sitting on a low-backed chair in front of the vanity mirror as Diana brushed her hair. Arlene would return the favor when Diana was done.

"So run this by me again. What's the big present you want for your birthday? If it's a car, I'll tell you right now, your dad and I will have to talk about it — a lot. You have a learner's permit from Georgia; I'll call and see if it is good in Colorado. If not, we can get you one for out here, and you can drive the Escalade for now, with your dad or me along, of course. I assume the driver's license age is sixteen out here as well. As far as I'm concerned, too many teenagers are turned loose in their own cars before they have enough experience, and they get themselves killed because of it. If that's..."

"Mother, will you, please slow down. I haven't even thought about a car. That would be super, but that's not what I've been thinking about for my birthday."

"Oh, well, I guess I sort of..."

"Mom, do you remember what Mr. Wainwright said about using the company jet?" she asked, while trying to turn her head to look at her mother.

"Stay still." Diana admonished. Then looking at her daughter in the mirror, "Well, sure. But what does that have to do with your birthday. Where do you want to go?"

"Nowhere," Arlene answered, fighting the urge to turn around. "I love it right here, but I can't share what I have."

Diana lifted her daughter's long hair, pulling it back as she worked on a tangle. "What do you mean? You can't 'share'? Share what?"

"I want to share this with my friends," she said, staring into her mother's eyes in the mirror. "I want my friends to see this place, to come and be with me on my birthday. Mom, don't say anything. Just think. Wouldn't it be just super if the jet could pick them up and bring them here for my birthday?"

Diana kept trying to say something, but Arlene kept telling her to wait to listen before she said no. Finally, Diana put her hand to her daughter's mouth to hush her so she could speak. There were already tears in Arlene's eyes.

"Yes."

"But Mom," Arlene tried to continue with her proposition. When she realized what her mother had said. "You said, 'yes'?"

"Yes, dear. It sounds like a great idea. We can ask your dad about the jet. If we can't use that, we can certainly buy their tickets. How many girls did you want to bring? Just your closest friends."

"I know Mom. Just Jennie, Melissa and Ann."

"I almost wish you hadn't told me about Jennie and Melissa. I'm afraid I'll feel different around them. What about Ann? Is she doing it with someone, too?"

"No, Mom. She's still a virgin."

"Still a virgin at sixteen. I didn't know they existed," she laughed.

"Mom, I almost made it to sixteen. And would have, too, if Jack hadn't raped me."

"I know, Baby. I was just kidding. I certainly wasn't a virgin at sixteen. You were two years old."

"Well, Ann says she is still looking for the right guy, at least as of two days ago, but she says it won't be long. She said she would either find Mr. Right soon, or she was going to pick one at random. She said she was tired of being a virgin and hearing all her girlfriends talking about something she didn't know anything about."

"Hon, you didn't tell them about Jack and Arnie, did you?"

"No, Mom, of course not. But it was hard not to during the few days we were at the old house."

"Remember, no one must know about your Dad. Some people would not understand about what we are doing, no matter how it got started."

"Mom, believe it or not, I am not a little child."

"I know, Baby. I know, but I worry. Just one wrong word..."

"It won't happen, Mom. Now can I call them?"

"Certainly not. You can call them after everything is worked out. The next obstacle is your father. I don't think he will balk about buying them tickets, but the company jet might just be another matter." As Arlene started to interrupt, she hushed her and continued, "I know. A ride in a company jet, treated like royalty, would be far better, but let's get first things first. We need him wholeheartedly on our side. That way when we ask about using the jet, he will be much more likely to say yes. Now how are we going to approach him about this?"

"He wasn't in a very good mood while we were buying plants and tools."

"Oh, that was just your dad being a man," Diana laughed. " He was enjoying himself as much as we were. But he was worn out. He could never stand shopping for any length of time." Diana got a far away look on her face for a moment, then continued, "Here is what we will do, if you're willing..."

-------

Jeff woke from his nap in the living room as someone was trying to pull his pants down. When he saw Arlene and Diana, he quickly raised his ass so they could get the pants past his hips. Both were dressed, or undressed, in panties and heels. Nothing else. They had makeup on, he noted, and they had their hair done. His dick stood up before his pants hit the floor.

Arlene's mouth took the head of his cock in a few seconds later. She sucked briefly, then ran her tongue around the head while still keeping his dick in her mouth. Diana pushed on his legs to spread them wider, then when Arlene moved a little to the side, Diana gently lifted his balls, kissing and sucking on them as her daughter increased the suction on his cockhead. He did not last three minutes.

Jeff bucked and groaned, almost cramming his cock down Arlene's throat. She took the first three spurts, one went into the air, and Diana got the last. She held his cock in her mouth, not sucking at all, knowing it would be sensitive after he came. After a few minutes, she gently licked and sucked him clean. As she let his flaccid member slip out of her sexy mouth, Jeff sighed, and said, "That's twice that I woke up getting a blowjob from my daughter. Twice in one day. I could really get used to this."

"Ah, but we have an ulterior motive this time," Diana said, giggling.

In short order, Diana and Arlene explained their plan to Jeff. In the beginning he resisted, but after Arlene stuck a titty in his mouth and Diana sucked his dick back to full hardness, and later drank his sperm as her daughter had, he was all for it. He really was from the beginning, but he wanted to see what the women would do if he showed reluctance.

"I'll call Mr. Wainwright first thing in the morning and see what he says. But first, I've got a lot of pussy licking to do before I catch up." He tackled Diana with her squealing like a kid, but the squealing stopped and the moans started as he got his tongue on her clit.

Arlene watched for a while, then sucked on Diana's nipples while Jeff ate her. It's a good thing we don't have any neighbors,  Diana thought. That must be me making that racket, but I can't stop. She kept trying to tell Jeff to stop, that she was having too many orgasms, that she needed to breathe, but he wouldn't listen, or she couldn't talk, she was not sure which. Finally, the world went black.

"Dad, I think you can quit now," Arlene said.

Jeff did not stop.

"Dad. She's out cold. You can stop now."

Damn. All those times before that she told me to stop and I did. I had no idea she meant for me to keep going. Now that I don't pay any attention to her, she goes to constant orgasm, and faints. I will never understand women.

"Your dick is hard again, Dad."

"Yeah, Punkin. It turns me on watching you suck your mom's breasts. Not to say anything about her having orgasms. That's a real turn-on, too."

Arlene took his cock in her hand, and lay back, guiding him to her pussy. "Daddy, I get hot when I suck your cock, and when I suck Mom's titties. Push it in. Fuck me. But not as hard as you did this morning. I'm really sore. I don't want to have to go to the doctor."

Jeff pushed his cock into his daughter's wet pussy. As he got nearly all the way in, he hit her cervix, and she hissed out her breath. He pulled back, the next stroke stopping short of her womb. He continued with long, slow strokes while kissing her and gently pulling on her nipples. A few minutes later he sucked a nipple into his mouth, gently caressing it with his tongue and lips.

He was kissing her fifteen minutes later when she wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and squealed into his mouth as she shuddered out a prolonged orgasm. He held tight to her and pumped his seed into her — what was left of his sperm — as her orgasm tapered off.

A little later, Diana whispered in his ear. "Wake your daughter and let's go to bed. I don't think I would have awakened if I hadn't heard you two finishing."

They staggered down the hall and fell into bed, Jeff still with his tee-shirt on. The bed was soon sticky from come leaking out of Arlene, but nobody noticed.



-------

Chapter 10

"Mr. Wainwright, it's Jeff Matthews. I need to ask you something."

"Well, first thing Jeff. Again, would you please call me Frank? Everybody else does. I'm really not that old."

"Well, uh, Frank, my daughter's sixteenth birthday is coming up in two weeks and she has asked for something special."

"What is it, a Ferrari?"

"No, thank God. She wants to bring three of her friends out here for her birthday."

"Is that all? A sixteen-year-old just asked for her friends? I assume they are in your old city?"

"Yeah, that's right. And I was wondering..."

"Well, why don't you call the pilot and send him to go get them?" Frank asked with a grin in his voice.

"You mean, it's okay?"

"Jeff, I told you to use the damn plane. I'm sure as hell paying that flight crew enough, whether they are sitting on their butts, or flying. If you were shuttling a football team back and forth, I would have to rein you in a little, but this is trivial. If you haven't noticed, we want to keep you happy. Call the pilot; he'll set up the flight. Now, when is Arlene's birthday?"

Jeff was impressed that Frank had remembered Arlene's name. "It's next Tuesday, the twentieth."

"Okay. Tell her I said happy birthday. And I will get something to her."

"Mr. Wainwright, you don't have to do that."

Frank just laughed and hung up.

Jeff looked at the phone, then hung it up. Shit, I think I am going to like being rich.

"Arlene," he yelled, "come here."

Arlene was there in about one second flat. She had been eavesdropping just outside the open door. She almost bowled Jeff over as he stood up.

Diana heard all the ruckus and looked in. "I take it Mr. Wainwright said yes," she said, laughing with them.

"More than that," Jeff answered. "He acted like he couldn't imagine why I had bothered to call him and ask. He seemed to wonder why I was calling him instead of the pilot?"

"Now, can I call my friends and tell them?"

"No, Honey, we have to set it up with the flight crew. The jet may be reserved for that day. And if it's free, the crew will have to fly down, so we have to figure that in. I suppose you do want your friends to arrive here on your birthday, right?"

When Arlene acknowledged, he continued. "It will take them about four hours to fly over, so I guess noon to pick up your friends..."

"Jeff," Diana interrupted. "That's not your problem. You tend to be a little on the anal retentive side on occasion. Just call the pilot and tell him when to pick up the girls. Let him figure out the rest of it. He does this for a living."

Jeff grinned. "Sorry," he said. Turning to Arlene, he continued, "Get your friends on the phone and tell them. Get them to talk with their parents, and set up a time for Diana and me to talk with them. Their parents, if they let them come, are going to want some assurances from us. But you start the ball rolling."

"Oh, Daddy," Arlene said, tears in her eyes. "I'm so happy. I love you so much."

Jeff laughed. "Don't get mushy, yet. Their parents may not think this is such a good idea. Count on at least one of them being a hard sale."

If Arlene heard him, she did not acknowledge. She was already dialing the phone. Diana motioned for Jeff to come with her. When they were in the kitchen, she asked "Now, what are we going to get our daughter for her to open?"

"But we're bringing her friends out here for her birthday. I thought that was the present."

"Jeff."

I will never understand women, Jeff thought, yet again.

"How about a credit card for a start? Now what else can we get her?" Diana mused aloud.

That really got Jeff's attention.

-------

There were two hard sales, not just one. In the end, the free company jet was the major selling point. None of the parents had any problems with their girl flying, but were concerned about, what Jeff considered, mostly obvious things. Would Jeff and Diana be at the airport to pick the kids up? (Yes.) Would they be supervised throughout the visit? (Certainly.) What should the girls bring? (Couple weeks of clothes, etc.) And, oh yes, was he sure the plane trip was not costing him anything? It went on and on.

Finally, everything was arranged and all the parents seemed happy. Jeff told them Arlene would call them back with the time to be at the airport. When the last conversation was over, Jeff sighed and went to get himself a coke. When he returned to call the pilot, Arlene had a four-way conversation going with her friends. How did kids learn to do that? He always had trouble setting up a multi-person call. After managing to get the phone back, he called the pilot to make the flight arrangements.

"No, problem," Captain Madison said. "But wouldn't Arlene like to pick her friends up? Why don't we swing by Boulder, pick her up and go on to pick up the girls? Of course, she would have to be at the airport in the wee hours of the morning, but I'll bet she would have a ball being there when the girls get on the plane. She could even surprise them if she wanted."

"But, would that be appropriate? I mean, picking Arlene up first, would almost double your flight time? I don't want to abuse my flight privileges."

"Mr. Matthews. I hope I don't get you aggravated for saying this, but here it is. Until you came on the scene, it was a rare event when we flew anyone that was not one of the top five in the company. Very rare. With you though, Mr. Wainwright made it clear to me that you were to be treated just as I would treat one of the top executives. After you called Mr. Wainwright this morning, he called me. He asked, shall we say, some very pressing questions about what I might have said to you about the use of the jet that would make you hesitant to use it."

Jeff started to respond, but did not get the chance. "I know Mr. Matthews, but Mr. Wainwright has dealings with people that always seem to want more, some of them are just plain obnoxious. I felt that he was thinking I might have discouraged your use of the jet, since you were tentative, or perhaps, courteous enough is a better expression, to give him a call and ask permission. I don't know anything about your business with the company, but trust me, if you want to go to Hawaii to watch a ball game, and the plane isn't reserved for any of the others, you're on your way. You want to go get a hamburger in Seattle, just call me. But please don't ask Mr. Wainwright if it would be okay. Okay?"

Jeff laughed. "Okay. I get your point. Sorry if I got you in a crack. What time should Arlene be at the airport," he asked over the squealing of a teenager having a fit.

-------

The next week went in a hurry, and Jeff made a big production about his back, but it was just for show, and everybody knew it. But they spent the better part of two days in the flower gardens. When Jeff told the story, he seemed to come up with about twice as many holes as he actually dug, but still, there were a lot of holes.

Jeff still had tons of things to see to from the old house, it seemed like. He had already gotten on the post office web site and had their mail forwarded, and spent time almost every day changing their address from numerous people and companies that sent them mail. Jeff got a friend to arrange to have the grass cut each week. Diana had Laura get the mail that was already in the box, and send it to them.

With great relief, he sat down with Diana to pay off all their bills. (There were many thousands of dollars that Jeff had borrowed that Diana had not been aware of, other than the mention of it just before they left for the contract signing.) "Oh, Jeff. If this deal hadn't gone through, we might have lost everything."

"I know, Baby. But I didn't borrow most of the money until I knew I could build the prototype. It wasn't as risky as it seems to you right now."

"But, why didn't you share this with me? I knew, of course, that you were working on what I thought was an invention, but I had no idea that you rented labs and hired people to build parts for your prototype. I thought you were out somewhere helping some company build a new computer component, or something like that. I'm really feeling rather foolish for being left out of this. It's a little like you didn't respect my intelligence at all. Like I couldn't understand what you were doing, or something."

Jeff knew he was in some deep doo-doo and desperately said, "It just snowballed. At first, I did share it with you. Then I realized I was boring you with my blathering. Once, while it was still just theory, I was talking to you about it. You were sitting on the couch reading. Every now and then, you would say, 'yes dear' or something like that. You weren't a bit interested. Then things started falling together and I thought I would wait just a little longer before I told you what was happening.

"Well, after awhile, when I realized that you took for granted that I was doing all that commuting for various jobs, I got the bright idea of surprising you when the next stage was completed. Every time I started to tell you, you would bring up some emergency that was going on at home, and the time just didn't seem right. After a while, I just decided to wait until it was finished. When I had the prototype working, it seemed it would be better to wait until after it was sold, especially when my time started to run out on those short-term loans. I'm sorry. Things didn't happen the way I planned. Then when I called to surprise you about the sale offer, I heard a man's voice in the background. Of course, what he was doing was fucking Arlene. Then, well, you know the rest."

Diana just looked at him. A moment or two later she got up and left the room.

Now, what did I do? We're rich. We are paying off all our bills. It should be one of the happiest times in our lives, and she's pissed at me. Shit.

Most everything was done. He just needed to pick up some stamps and mail all the checks. Resolutely, he started out to find his wife and apologize.

He found her in the bedroom, lying face down on the bed. He nestled beside her and cuddled her. He could see a tear sliding down her cheek. He kissed it away, stroked her hair and gently kissed her neck. After awhile, he got her to turn to her back, and kissed her mouth. She didn't respond. He tried to kiss her braless breasts, but she was having none of it, telling him to stop; she was not in the mood.

Is this a no that's really a yes? Or is this a no that means no? If I push on and this no is really a no, I'm going to switch from being in doo-doo, to deep shit. But, then again, if I don't straighten this out, I'm going to get the cold shoulder and no pussy for a week. And even I know better than to go and look up Arlene, instead.

He went for a no meaning yes. With her fussing at him, he tickled her, managing to get her top pushed up in the process. He worked on a nipple with one hand and her pussy with the other. He wished she had worn a skirt, but he could still feel her pussy through her shorts, at least a little. He tried to figure out exactly where her slit was and gently slid his finger up her outer lips, repeating the action, trying to hit her button.

She was faking death, totally unresponsive. He tickled her some more, then felt a tiny response from her hips. By damn, if Jack can do this, so can I. He latched onto a nipple with his mouth and sucked for her milk, continuing to rub her pussy, starting at the bottom of her slit, and hopefully, hitting her clit at the top of the stroke. He was about to give up, knowing that she was pissed as hell at him for forcing himself on her, when she hissed, raised her ass off the bed and came a long shuddering orgasm.

"Fuck me, you bastard," she hissed at him through gritted teeth.

Although her body responded and fucked him back, when he dumped his load in her, watching her long tits jiggle and sway as she orgasmed, he knew he was not out of the doghouse, yet. As he was getting his breath back and she was trying to roll out from under him, he had an inspiration. "Let's go shopping and get the stuff for Arlene's party. Let's spend some major money."

That did it. In two minutes, she was in a good mood, even squeezed his dick as she left to clean up. He was more pleased with himself than he had been when his inspiration for his invention had hit him. That's it. Spend money. Hot damn, that doghouse is going to have a two-way door from now on.

They told Arlene where they were going, where, but not why, as if she couldn't figure it out. They headed out giggling like two kids. By the time they got back after ten that night, Jeff felt like a walking zombie. Shopping was the most physically, and mentally, demanding thing he could think of. He could work fifteen hours straight and not be this tired. Hell, even digging holes for flowers all day didn't tire me out this much.

Even Diana acknowledged being a little tired as they unloaded the SUV.

Jeff staggered inside and into bed. He did not want to even think about pussy. He knew that Diana had stopped off to talk with their daughter. It was much later when they came to bed. When Diana pulled on his dick, he only grunted. She looked at her daughter, and smiled, "Guess you're going to have to wait until tomorrow. Poor man, he's all worn out. Even his dick. A few hours of shopping and they're whipped, both of them." Both giggled.

Jeff was only partially aware, and in a few seconds, back sound asleep.



-------

Chapter 11

Captain Madison met Jeff, Diana and Arlene with a slight tip of his hat and a formal "Good morning Miss. Happy sixteenth birthday."

Arlene giggled, said, "Thank you, Captain."

Only after speaking to Arlene did he acknowledge Jeff and Diana, but he had obviously made a hit with Arlene.

"We'll have to refuel when we get there. So, my guesstimate is about one, but that could vary. Shall I call you when we take off from Georgia? I can give you a more accurate time on our return then."

"That would be great," Jeff said. "You do have my cell number?"

"Yes, Sir. I have your card with all your numbers."

"Could I speak with you in private for a moment, Captain?"

When they had walked off for a few steps, Jeff said. "There's going to be four teenage girls on that plane, and believe me, they can get plenty loud. I don't think you will have any problem with them, other than being noisy. I want you to know, though, that you have my full permission to make them behave. I don't want you having to listen to full bore rock music all the way. Don't let them abuse you."

Madison laughed, "I have a teenage daughter. And although I appreciate what you are saying, I will be willing to bet they will all act like ladies. The copilot and I, as well as the flight attendant, have noise canceling earphones that will cut out anything that gets too loud for us. I don't think we will have a problem, but thanks anyway."

Jeff shook his hand, and Captain Madison held out his arm for Arlene to take to walk up the steps and board the plane. She forgot to hug her mom and dad good-bye.

Jeff and Diana went back inside and watched until the jet was airborne, its lights flashing in the darkness.

"I guess our daughter is growing up," Diana said, holding back tears.

Jeff's gruff, "No shit," didn't fool Diana one bit.

As they walked back to the SUV, Diana asked, "What do we do? Drive home and back at one? That will take four hours just to do that."

"No. First thing is to get something to eat, kill some time, then go car shopping."

"Car shopping? We've got a brand new SUV," she said, motioning to the Escalade, "and two cars at home."

"Yeah, I know, but mine is ten years old and yours is eight. I know where they can find a good home, and we definitely need another vehicle, particularly when Arlene starts to school. And can you imagine how much luggage those three girls will bring with them? Six people, plus all that luggage is going to be an iffy thing, even in the Escalade."

"Jeff, it's got to have four-wheel drive. I'm not driving up that mountain in snow in a vehicle that doesn't have it, just like the Escalade." Looking at him she asked, "What was that about our old cars going to a good home?"

"Well, if we tried to sell them, we wouldn't get anything much for them, so I thought Fred could use one for his business. An older nondescript car should come in handy for a detective. The other one, I would like to give to our druggist friend, if he wants it. If you agree?"

"I can't believe we're talking about giving our cars away. Just a few days ago, I was worrying about how much longer mine was going to last, and where we would get the money to buy a new one. I can't believe this has happened to us."

"Well, we could always go back to the old house," Jeff teased.

Diana grinned at him. "No chance. That's a monstrosity we're living in, but it's a beautiful monstrosity. Let's get something to eat. What kind of car were you thinking about?"

-------

As Arlene stepped on the plane, she was met with streamers, whistles and balloons. They sang an off-key, happy birthday to her amidst laughter and a hug from Kathy, the flight attendant. There was a beautifully decorated box from Mr. Wainwright that had a note to wait and open at her party. Not long after the seat belt light went off, however, she was sound asleep. Kathy was soon asleep in her seat, as well. The copilot leaned his seat back and did the same, while he could.

A few hours later, Kathy woke Arlene, suggesting that she freshen up before they started their descent. They touched down a little after seven thirty, but all the girls were already there waiting.

The girls and their parents got the royal treatment from the flight crew while the luggage was loaded. Two of the parents were concerned that their daughters had brought too much luggage, but Captain Madison assured them they had plenty of room.

Kisses and hugs later, the parents were back in the terminal and the girls were ushered up the steps together. As they were seated, the flight attendant went over the safety rules with them. Two of them had not flown before, leaving Melissa to be the pro. Kathy had just finished explaining everything when Arlene stepped out of the cockpit and said "Hi, guys," with all the nonchalance she could muster.

Captain Madison, who had remained at the doorway waiting for Arlene to make her grand entrance, thought that he might well be using the earphones, after all. The little redhead had hit a note when she screamed that had literally made his right ear ring. Then again, he mused, he could put up with a little racket for the abundance of eye candy on this trip. The girls were all sixteen or seventeen he guessed, but they were definitely young women, too.

The redhead that had screamed such a high note was the shortest of the four, about five two, but like the others, she was stacked. She had shoulder length red hair with a blend of auburn. Her breasts were high and round; her face, as well as that of every girl on the plane, was very pretty. If he remembered correctly, her name was Ann.

The other two girls were within an inch or two of Arlene's five foot four, he guessed. All three could have worn each other's clothes in a pinch, and if they were anything like his own daughter, they probably did. Although there were variations that he could even notice through their tops, which were cut conservatively, their breasts were, like Ann's, set high on their chests. Arlene's breasts seemed to be more pointed than the others, and from time to time, he got a glimpse of her nipples. Now that he took particular notice, the excitement had caused other nipples to pop, also. He tried not to look, or at least to not be caught looking.

Arlene and Melissa were brunettes, with a mane of hair to their waists. Arlene had hers done in dog ears that made him want to grab hold of when she passed, but he refrained and hid behind his professional air.

Jennie was a dirty blond that looked entirely natural, and entirely beautiful. Her face was as exquisite as the others, although her breasts were slightly smaller. Her smaller breasts fit her smaller frame just fine, however.

"Okay, ladies, time to belt up. Looks like our fuel is on board and our copilot has just given me the high sign. Ready to go to Boulder?"

That brought him a round of cheers, accompanied by party whistles, and giggling.

Kathy winked at him as he walked by. "Going to visit with us some during the flight?"

"You're damn right," he conceded. "Oakman got some shut eye on the way down, and he's going to get some flight hours in on the way back."

Kathy glanced at the front of his pants. No tent. He had more willpower than she had given him credit for. "Come visit with us, when you can, Captain. Let the copilot get some flight time," she said, loud enough for the girls to hear. He thanked her with his eyes. Oh, well, he was a truly nice guy, and any man not stone dead would appreciate this flight. The captain would have probably been back anyway, but this would give him a plausible excuse. Now, if she could just get him to look at her the way he did this bunch of girls...

The girls all got quiet when they accelerated down the runway. Kathy grinned as they climbed out and banked to their heading. Madison, you are not in that Tomcat anymore. You are going to impress them a little too much and someone will puke or wet her pants. But that was the only thing he did. Maybe he was not trying to impress anyone. Maybe he had to avoid something or was obeying the tower's instructions. He sure as heck got their attention, though. She still wondered at the sudden hard turn.

The seat belt light went off. The rest of the flight was as smooth as glass, the engines barely audible. The girls played video games, giggled and played rock music. They eventually went into a whispering huddle, occasionally interspersed with a giggle cut off by its owner clamping a hand over her mouth. I would surely like to hear their conversation,  Kathy thought. I would be willing to bet it is about boys, or sex. But they are one and the same, aren't they?

After they had been airborne for an hour or so, Captain Madison came back. He told jokes for ten minutes, nonstop, then got the girls talking about themselves. After a while, he told them about his fifteen-year-old daughter. As he walked by Kathy, he squeezed her shoulder and quietly said, "Thanks."

She grinned back and said, "Anytime." The word had a double meaning, and he knew it, but he had never gotten out of line with her, or anyone, that she had ever seen. His wife had a jewel there. If she ever divorced him, she (Kathy) would be there to console him. In a heartbeat.

-------

Captain Madison gave Jeff a mock salute and a smile as the girls piled out of the plane and came running over. A few minutes later, they were rolling out of Boulder. Ann had asked to ride with Jeff in the new Expedition.

Cell phone reception around the mountains was spotty. About halfway back, Jeff saw a cell tower and dialed Diana's number. Looking in his mirror, he could see Arlene answer. "Do you want to stop and get something to drink, or something to eat?" Ann had told him they had eaten on the plane, but he would not have been amazed if they all wanted to eat again. After all, they were teenagers. If they had been boys, he knew damn well they would have.

"Hang on, Daddy." After a minute, Arlene said, "We're not hungry, Daddy, but we would like something to drink."

"How about the drive-in we used the other day?"

"Mom said that would be great."

None of them were hungry, but they all had a large ice cream, anyway. Jeff, laughing, pulled onto the highway with the Escalade following.

"You're in a good mood, Mr. Matthews," Ann said, eyeing him, a smile on her face.

He thought for a moment. "I guess I am, at that. Well, my pretty daughter is sixteen today. I came into some money. I don't have to work anymore, unless I want to. Some stress has been lifted that I have been under for the last couple of years, and yeah, I guess you're right. I'm just really happy."

"Arlene is lucky."

"How is that?"

"Well, she has both parents. I never knew my dad. Well, you know that. My mom works very hard, and is gone a lot. I, pretty much, take care of the house, and have for years."

"I know about being gone a lot. You and Arlene have been friends about your whole life. You know how much I've traveled the last two years."

"Yeah, but Mom has job problems, or is afraid she is going to have."

Jeff glanced at her, then back at the road. "What kind of job problems?"

Ann sighed. "So far, it's just rumor. But her company has been bought out by some big, what's the word ... conglomerate, Mom calls them, and they're talking about downsizing. Well, as you know, she's a great programmer. She got several promotions, and she's been a systems analyst for about a year now, but I can tell she is worried."

Jeff glanced back at her, worried as well. "I haven't seen Laura in several months I guess. I've been gone so much. I didn't know anything about the job problem. I thought you two were doing much better since her promotion." Jeff didn't know what else to say, so he tried to steer the conversation onto safer ground. "You haven't been to the Rockies, have you?" he asked, knowing the answer.

"No, Sir. We go to the beach for a week every couple of years, as you know, since Arlene usually goes with us. But we've never been out here. I bet Mom would love it."

"How about forgetting the 'Sir'. I had rather you, and everyone else just called me Jeff. I thought we had gotten over the 'Sir' a while back. Just because we haven't seen each other in a while, doesn't mean we should get formal," he teased.

Ann blushed a little, and nodded, as Jeff continued, "I've never seen anyone who didn't like the Rockies. They are certainly a drastic change from the city. Atlanta, Houston, New York, all the big cities have their own charm, but so does the Rockies. Oh, they have the obvious things, the grandeur, the majesty, all that, but there is another thing about living out here. I'll show you one night soon. It is so unbelievably quiet. You can go outside, and when the wind is blowing from the right direction, hear a truck, or a car horn from miles away. I heard an eighteen wheeler the other night that I swear had to be at least ten miles away. That's the nearest road big enough for one to travel on."

Ann started talking about school, and the things she liked, prattling on until they started the switchbacks. She looked down, and got very quiet. When he could, Jeff looked in the mirror and saw his wife grinning from ear to ear. Now a mountain woman of three whole weeks, she was enjoying the scared-shitless teenagers in the car with her.

When they got home, Jeff began unloading the vehicles. The girls stood around staring at the conference center, stunned.

Somebody kept saying, "This can't be a house. This can't be a house," until Jeff loudly cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at the pile of bags. Suddenly there was a line of girls taking the bags as he handed them out. As soon as they got inside with their load, they came running out to get another bag. Amazingly enough, each girl only had two bags (although the bags were pretty large), and a makeup case, plus a few odds and ends, and, of course, a present each. Everything was in the house in minutes. Sorting out which girl had which room took longer, but Jeff was making coffee by then and listening to the calls and giggles from a bunch of friends reunited.

"They're something, aren't they," Diana came in smiling.

"I know I haven't seen them very much in the last year, and seldom all together, but..."

"Down, boy. I know what you're thinking." Then whispering, "You're thinking about Melissa's and Jennie's fathers fucking them. You dirty old man," she accused, laughing.

"I'm not old," he said, swatting her on the ass.

"Behave, Mister. We have houseguests for the next two weeks. The only pussy you're going to get is from this old woman."

"Thirty, is knocking on your door, isn't it?" he teased. "And why? Can't Arlene sneak into our room now and then?"

Jeff leaned against the counter as Diana put down cups, and poured coffee. Stirring in creamer and sweetener, she looked at her husband. "Seriously, Jeff," she said blowing on her drink. "We can't do anything like that while they're here. I can just imagine Arlene letting out with one of her screams, and the girls hearing it. How would you explain that?"

"I like the way your lips purse when you blow on that coffee. It reminds me of things."

"Jeff Matthews, those girls have got you stirred up," she said, glancing at his pants. "At least you don't have a hard-on."

"Yeah, but you don't know how hard it is not to have one," he chuckled at his choice of words.

"Seriously, you're the one that was cautioning Arlene that you could get into big trouble if word ever got out."

"Diana, do you really think that, at least, Melissa and Jennie, haven't heard all about it. I'm probably Long Dick Malone by now, at least according to Arlene."

"Who is Long Dick Malone?" Diana said, trying to suppress a giggle.

"Hell, I don't know. I just made him up," Jeff responded, laughing.

"Well, Mr. Malone," Diana said, kissing him lightly on the lips, "I had better not catch you with an erection around those girls. Not if you want some of this ol' girl. If you get a hard-on, it better be over me," she finished, not laughing at all.

She's about to get her ass on her shoulders, again. And I'm getting a little pissed myself. How would Jack handle this? Oh, yes. He waited until Diana put her cup on the counter, then putting his down, he said, "I guess you're right. It wouldn't be right for me to get an erection after getting nonstop stimulation from two beautiful women for a whole week straight. I must have had more sex from you during the last week than I have had in the last year. Now why in the world would I get excited?"

He could see Diana's face flush. She was really getting pissed. Now the Jack approach. If she keeps fucking with me, I'm going to start telling her it's the Jack approach. Just as she started a retort, he pushed her up against the counter, grabbed the back of her neck, and kissed her — soul kissed her. She tried to push away, but he tightened his hold on her neck and pressed against her. That really pissed her off. She squirmed and tried to talk into his mouth. He got a hand under her short skirt and yanked her panties down enough to get to her pussy. She tried to buck, but he pressed her back against the counter with his body.

That's the Jack approach, Babe,  he thought. You came for Jack and even passed out. You're not going to be the hot little wife for a few days and then go back to being the bitch who doesn't allow it to be rough.

He turned her neck loose and slipped his hand under her top. She jerked her mouth from his and hissed out, "Stop this. One of those girls could walk in any minute. Do you want them to see us?"

"Oh, I imagine they have caught their mom and dad playing before. Two of them have been playing with their dad, anyway."

While he was talking, he got her front-catch bra unsnapped, and grabbed a nipple. He also found her hole, and was trying to insert a finger, but she wasn't wet, and he wasn't having much luck.

"Jeff, stop this right now."

"Oh, you only get hot when Jack manhandles you? Is that it?" he said, not about to back down, now.

Her face lost all color in a second, and she tried to slap him, but he was too close for her to really hit him. He jammed his finger in, curling it for her G-spot, rotating and tugging on her nipple at the same time. Seeking out her clit with his thumb, he proceeded to finger fuck her. He got her wedged against the counter and added sucking and kissing to her neck to the titillation.

He went at her for several minutes. By damn, she will either respond to me, or we are going to have some serious problems — not to say anything about the giant hickey she's going to have on her neck. She's not going to start being Miss Chaste after what I've seen her do with that scumbag. He could see tears start in her eyes. But she was not going back to their old ways.

Diana looked at her husband. I don't know what's gotten into him. But, somehow, I've pushed the wrong buttons. I guess his ego is still fragile, after all. I don't think I've ever seen him this mad. But if I don't respond to him, he will be right. Jack could please me whether I wanted it or not. So why can't my husband? I was scared of Jack, but I'm not scared of my husband. But I was scared of his leaving me a week ago. Has that changed? By the look on his face, it hasn't? Oh, Shit. He's not doing a damn thing to me that Jack didn't do, and I came all over myself. Suddenly she was coming. She bucked against his hand and wiggled her ass. He stripped her nipple so hard she almost screamed, but she came again.

She heard his pants hit the floor, felt him jerk her panties down and off one foot, felt his knees forcing her thighs apart. Suddenly his finger was replaced by his cock, which he proceeded to ram upward into her. He pushed her back against the counter and rammed upward again, her high heels scrabbling for purchase on the slick tile floor. He let go of her breast, yanked her top up, and rammed again.

"Oh, shit, Jeff, that hurts," she admonished. He pulled almost out and slammed into her even harder, slamming against her cervix with the head of his cock. She grunted and bit her lip, knowing better than to whine again. The next time he slammed into her, she came so hard she almost blacked out. Her long breasts were bouncing and shaking, the front of his shirt already covered with her milk. He gave her a few short, fast strokes, then rammed in and held. He had a perfect alignment with her womb. She felt the warmth go inside it as his cock repeatedly pulsed. She came again, going higher and higher, until one orgasm blended into another and the world grayed out. She slumped against her husband and mumbled, "I love you," as he shivered out the last of his sperm.

Diana looked toward the door and caught Ann's eye for an instant before she eased the door closed. "Oh, shit," Diana managed to say.

"Is that all you have to say, just, 'oh shit?'"

"We had an audience," she managed to get out as her orgasm faded, and her breath came back.

"Who?"

"Ann."

"Didn't Arlene say that she was still a virgin?"

"Virgin, or not, she got an eyeful that time," Diana said, frowning. "Oh, I need to talk to her. This could really upset her."

Jeff pulled out and grabbed a dishtowel which she clapped to her drooling pussy. She wiped up and handed him the towel. As she pulled her panties back on, "I'll be back in a bit. I'm going to see if I can do some fence mending."

-------

Diana found Ann in the living room with the other girls. Trying to act as if nothing had happened, hoping Jeff hadn't made a hickey on her neck, Diana asked if everyone had found a bedroom and gotten their bags put there. When they all said they had, she continued, "Okay. Let's take a little break. You can explore the house and grounds. By the way, Arlene, don't forget to tell them about the bears?"

"Bears!" everyone but Arlene squealed in unison.

Arlene just grinned. "I'll tell them, Mom."

"Okay. Everyone have fun for thirty minutes or so, then we will meet back here and start decorating for the party."

As they started out, led by Arlene, Diana pulled Ann aside. "Sorry about that in the kitchen. Later today, I would like to apologize, and talk to you about some things."

"Mrs. Matthews, you don't have to apologize. I didn't mean to interrupt. I know Arlene told you I'm still a virgin, and my friends are not. But that doesn't mean that I'm a dumb little kid." She blushed prettily, but continued, "Besides, I thought you looked sexy as everything. I wish I were as pretty as you." She took off down the hall after the rest of the girls, leaving Diana standing there wondering what had just happened.

-------

Jeff had all the noise he could take for one evening. Even with noisemakers, whistles, and rock music, he was amazed that four girls could make that much racket. A shriek cut the air like a knife, accompanied by giggles and laughter. Well, there was no doubt they were having a good time.

Diana looked at him with that all-knowing glance. Caught again, looking at the bouncing titties. He did not think he had ever seen as much jiggling, and even he came to realize that it was not all accidental. They were doing, at least, some of it so that he would notice them. He didn't mind a bit, but he could not stand the racket anymore. Picking up his glass, he left the room and walked down the hall on the way to the back deck. A good breath of cold air and he would turn in early.

He had just leaned against the railing, looking up at the stars, when the sliding door opened and Diana stepped out.

"Noise get to you, too?" he asked her.

"They are loud, but I just thought I would tell you that I spoke with Ann for a minute after I left the kitchen."

"Was she that upset?"

"That's just the thing. She didn't seem to be upset about what we were doing..." She hesitated for a moment, "but she told me that I looked sexy, and she wished she were as pretty as I was. That just wasn't what I expected her to say."

"How did you respond?"

"I didn't. Before I could, she ran off down the hall after the others."

"Well, at least she didn't run crying to her room."

"Jeff, I know that four teenage girls, particularly these girls, are a distraction for you, but seriously, you have got to cool it while they are here. No telling what Ann will say to Laura."

"Who cares? Besides, Laura is your best friend. I was fucking my wife, and you were coming like a freight train. Too bad some shithead has to show me what turns my wife on," he added, in a different voice.

"Look, Honey, just because I came, it doesn't mean that I particularly like it like that. We need to make love in the bedroom while the girls are here, and..."

"Diana, just stop the shit. I made love to you for years. Every time I got a little too aggressive, you would rein me in. You don't respect a man who makes love to you. Oh, you think that's what you want, but your orgasms tell the tale. Throughout our marriage, your one orgasm per love session was little more than a whimper as you came. When Jack fucked you, you had more orgasms than I could count, because they ran together into one continuous come."

"Look, you only saw Jack fuck me once. You act as if you saw things that never happened."

Jeff's face flushed with anger, and he said through gritted teeth, "Don't be too sure of that. Turns out that Arnie thought I knew more than I actually did. When we went over to his house to get his hard disk, he gave me the three digital tapes that he recorded of you and Arlene fucking Jack. Arnie isn't as dumb as he looks; he took some great tapes.

"I watched Jack lick your pussy until you passed out. And I watched you stick your ass up in the air so he could fuck your cunt. You came so damn hard that you fainted that time, too. When you sucked his cock, you acted like you were starving to death for a swallow of sperm. And you cleaned his dick off, time and again, without even being asked. When he was dog fucking you, you turned your head to give him a profile of your face with a cigarette hanging out of your mouth like a bar whore. You were doing a fine cowgirl imitation a couple of times. Shall I go on? If I had seen those tapes before I kicked his ass, I might have handled things differently."

Jeff could see Diana shaking, even in the dim light on the deck. "Jeff, I..."

Jeff grabbed her hand and jerked her over to him, then down to her knees. He leaned back against the railing and commanded. "Get to sucking. You're right, my hard-on is because of all the jiggling titties in the living room, not that your tits aren't just as good. You have started to get that holier-than-thou attitude, again. Some of that is okay. I like your haughtiness to an extent, but I am not going back to the once-a-week make-love sessions. For the last week, I've gotten my rocks off at least four times a day. I haven't been able to do that in years. But with Arlene, and you acting like a slut — don't say anything, I like you to act that way — my balls seem to fill up as fast as I unload them. I am not going to quit and start sneaking around and jerking off, again, like I've had to do for years."

Jeff unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. He inserted about half his cock between her lips to lodge in her throat. He thrust his hips back and forth, stroking her mouth with his meat. "Every time I start to have a relapse, I watch one of those tapes. I'm taking lessons from our dear friend, Jack. You did a fair job of coming for Arnie, as well," he said, his temper coming up. He thrust hard into her throat, trying to make her deep throat him, but either she could not, or would not. He grabbed the back of her head, thinking about the squealing, her tits spraying milk as she wrapped her long legs around Jack's hips, fucking him until he shot his sperm into her pussy and she passed out.

Diana managed to get his dick out of her mouth. "Jeff, I didn't know about the tapes. I'm sorry, Honey, but the girls might see us..."

"You better get to sucking, or I swear I will pick your ass up, carry you to the living room, and fuck your mouth in front of all of them. Hell, I would probably get a standing ovation."

Oh, shit. I think he means it. And there's no telling what that bunch of girls would do. Resignedly, she opened her mouth.

He stuck his dick back into her mouth, put a hand behind her head, and fucked her in earnest. "Get your tits out," he gasped as she finally began sucking his cock. "Just like you did for Jack, suck and release, suck and release. Now move your tongue around the head of my dick. And, by the way, it's time you lost that bra. The girls all shed theirs as soon as they got here, if they were wearing one. You are the only one wearing one, and if I have to tell you again, I'll burn every last one of the damn things. You can wear them when we go out, but not in the house. Now, pretend I'm Jack and you like the taste of my come."

I didn't know Arnie had any tapes. I thought he had a few pictures. That was bad enough. No wonder my husband sat out on the deck for days. I was acting like a slut with Jack, but I was scared to death that Jack was going to show his pictures to Jeff. I had no choice but to do him as good as I could. How am I ever going to get around this?

"Pinch your nipples and come, dammit."

Terrified, Diana pulled and twisted her distended nipples, making them spray milk. She did not know whether he could see the milk in the poor light or not, but the stimulation and his gruffness made her come. Jeff grunted once and emptied his balls into her mouth in five long spurts.

Shit, he comes a lot more than he used to,  she thought, while trying to swallow fast enough. She choked on his last gush, but he held her head firmly and would not let her pull her mouth off his cock. She managed to swallow, then cough and gulp air as he pulled back from the entrance to her throat.

Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks as he said, "That will hold me until bedtime. Tell Arlene to come see me when the girls are asleep. If they aren't asleep by midnight, come on anyway. I want to fuck her tonight.

"You started this, Babe. You got my mind off leaving you by having Arlene fuck me. So send her in. I'll have another load ready by then. By the way, you have been smoking one hundreds all afternoon. You're the one who associated prissing around with a one-twenty, with sex. I always thought you looked good when you smoked, but if you can do that for Jack, by damn, you can do it for me."

"Jeff, I changed because the girls were here..."

"Diana."

"Okay," she said, meekly, "I'll try."

"I'm going to bed. You might want to wipe the come off your chin. And don't forget to get rid of that bra. Yeah, I know I'm going to bed, but going without a bra seems to turn you on, and I want you hot when Arlene comes to visit."

Jeff left her still on her knees, and walked into the house.

-------

By ten, the girls were getting tired. By eleven, they had all gone to bed. Diana supposed that even teenage energy ran out with such a wide-open day. She entered their bedroom and glanced at her husband asleep on his back. He was nude, lying on top of the cover with his big cock sticking straight up, its flanged head almost purple. His dick moved slightly, in time with his breathing. He did have a beautiful cock, if cocks could be beautiful. It also looked menacing with the big veins running up its length. He had always had large balls, but she could swear they had grown.

She wondered about the old adage about "use it or lose it." Well, I wonder if the reverse is true. Use it a lot and it gets bigger and better. Crap. I should be mad as hell at him. He's been using me like a cheap whore. But I brought it on myself. I wish Arnie hadn't taped Jack and me. I don't know how I am ever going to get things back to normal now.

Diana showered, wearing a cap to protect her long hair. She was too tired to spend the time to dry her hair tonight. When she told Arlene what her dad had said, she had just grinned and said, "Okay."

I wonder where he is keeping the tapes. I haven't seen them anywhere. I need to get them and burn them. But I'm going to watch them first. I wonder what Arnie recorded. But if there are three of them, it must be a lot of stuff. Shit, no wonder I almost lost Jeff, but I can't let him continue to fuck my daughter. I was desperate when I started this, but, somehow, things have to get back to normal. If I can find those tapes, that will be a start. Of course, there will be problems when Jeff finds out they are gone. I need to think about this. In the meantime, I have to get him in a better mood.

Arlene came in as Diana was sitting at the mirror putting on her makeup. "I took a shower, Mom. But it looks like you're going all out. I looked in the bedroom, and Dad seems like he's ready," she added, giggling.

"He fucked me in the kitchen as soon as we got home, then made me suck him off on the back deck earlier tonight."

"'Made' you suck him?" Arlene asked. "I thought you were gladly doing that, and anything else he wanted, just to keep him from leaving."

"Well, I don't want to get into that just now. But I think you should know that Ann saw us in the kitchen."

"Yeah, she said she saw you and Daddy fucking."

"You mean she has already discussed that with you?"

"Yeah, but she didn't see all of it. Tell me about it."

"Well, I happened to look toward the door and saw her there. She just looked at me for a second, and left."

"No, Mom. I don't mean Ann. Tell me about Daddy, fucking, I mean, making love to you," she corrected, grinning.

"He got rough with me. I didn't want to do it. I was afraid some of the girls would come in, but he forced me. Yanked up my top, jerked my panties off, and rammed into me. He just kept ramming into me until I came. That's when I saw Ann."

"Look, enough about that. Your dad told me that Arnie gave him three tapes that Arnie took of Jack screwing us. I gather that your father didn't watch all the tapes until recently, but he saw enough, early on, to really get down in the dumps. Not to mention what he saw for himself in the playroom. But he's started acting different. He practically raped me in the kitchen, and he would not take no for an answer on the deck when he made me suck him."

"Mom, I don't think it's Dad that has changed, not in the last week, at least. Remember you sent me to fuck him, because you thought he was going to leave. Have you changed your mind?"

"No ... I don't know what to think right now, but he was adamant that you get here by twelve. He said he would be ready by then. And, he wanted me to leave off my bra, saying it would help to get me in the mood, or words to that effect."

"So why the makeup?"

"He was really pissed this afternoon when I tried to put him off in the kitchen. Then again on the deck. I think you should get your heels and put a little lipstick and makeup on, too. He bitched me out about not smoking the 120's. I was afraid that if I kept on dramatizing my smoking, the girls would notice. But I think both of us should priss for him tonight. I don't like it when he's like this."

"Mom, everybody knows."

"'Everybody knows' what?"

"That we use the 120's to priss for Dad."

"Arlene, you didn't tell them that?"

"Sure. Why not? Melissa and Jennie are going to do it for their dads, to see if they like it."

"Arlene. We told you not to tell anyone. Ever."

"But, Mom. They're my friends. And they're fucking their fathers, and have been. They have told me everything. I couldn't not tell them about us. And besides, they know not to tell. If they do, then I will. Besides, after Ken and Alice got HIV, I'll bet that there is a bunch of the girls fucking their dads. All the girls are saying they aren't going to mess with any of the guys again. And there are hints while we were talking that they have gone to their fathers for sex. Do you want me to fuck some boy at school that might be HIV positive?"

"That reminds me, I wonder how many girls Jack had sex with?"

Arlene sat next to her mother and started putting on some lipstick. "From what I know about Jack, he dropped out of school three or four years ago, and he wasn't very successful with the girls. He said something about going down the street and fucking some girl when he was intimidating me into letting him get my cherry. But I never heard of any girl around there that was screwing him. I think he was lying. He didn't hang around the school, so I don't think he messed with any of the kids that were exposed. He also had rubbers with him, but he wouldn't use them on us. I think he always used rubbers; he just got excited about knocking us up. He didn't have to worry about marrying me, and you couldn't say anything. I really think we're safe with Jack."

"We had better be. If I catch something from him, my husband will kick me out, and trust me, if I can find Jack, he won't do it to anyone else."

Turning to Arlene, she said, "Pull your nightie down for a minute and let me put a little blush around your nipples."

Arlene giggled, and did as instructed, but her nipples dribbled milk, making it difficult. By the time they both had their makeup on and their nipples decorated, they were giggling like they were the same age.

Arlene left and got her heels, walking back in strutting with her shoulders back and her breasts out, swaying saucily. "How do I look, Mom?"

Diana grinned, "He'll come like Old Faithful when he sees you." Sobering, she continued, "Look, Baby, I don't like the way your dad was acting this afternoon. We've really have to give him a good one tonight. I was bitchy about him getting excited about the girls' jiggling titties, and things went downhill."

"Mom, they were showing off for Dad."

"Yeah, I know, but I wish they would hold it down a little. And I've got to learn to keep my mouth shut. I told him, essentially, that he couldn't mess with you while they were here, and he didn't take it very well. In fact, he got really pissed. But we have to keep it quiet, so muffle your mouth tonight. This suite is pretty much separated from their bedrooms, with yours being the closest of course, but still, I don't want to take a chance of your friends hearing us screaming out an orgasm. I would just die if one of them came to investigate."

"If they did, they would probably just join in. They have the hots for Dad."

"Arlene, he's twice their age."

"So. That just makes him that much more attractive. Do you think any one of the guys at school could compete with Jennie's or Melissa's dad? Sixteen-year-old guys shoot off by the time they get it in, and the last thing on their minds is pleasing the girl. Besides, I told them how big his dick is. I thought Melissa was going to come in her pants."

"Ah, shit, Arlene. You shouldn't be doing that. And what about Ann? She's still a virgin. What must she think?"

"I've seen Ann eyeing Dad. She asked to ride back with him. I think she has a real crush on him. She's already made a comment about getting somebody like him to be her first."

Diana just stared at her daughter. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"Why don't we go wake Daddy up, instead? I want to feel him push up inside me and I love it when he is getting ready to come. His cock twitches and gets so hard. I kinda wish I wasn't on the pill."

"Arlene."

"Well, don't you wish he could make you pregnant again, Mom?"

"I have thought about it. But you're sixteen, and he's your father. And a new baby in the house..."

"We could both nurse it," Arlene laughed. "We have Grandma to thank for that."

When Diana and Arlene left the vanity area and walked into the bedroom proper, Jeff's dick had softened and was lying on his leg.

"Oh, it looks lonesome," Arlene said with a sexy little giggle.

"Well, I think you should start things off. He has been having my pussy for sixteen years, and yours for only about a week. If anyone can get him in a good mood, it will have to be you."

"Mom, I know he has known you, in the biblical sense, for a long time, but things changed a week ago. I think he is as excited about you as he is about me. From what Ann told me she saw, Daddy was fucking your brains out, and you were enjoying it — immensely."

Diana felt herself blushing. "I don't know how much I enjoyed it. I was so pissed at him, but I came so hard that I almost blacked out. I think I would have if he had banged my womb a few more times."

"I think that's what changed. You started enjoying sex — with Jack at first, then with Daddy."

Both women were standing at the foot of the big bed while they were talking. It was obvious that Jeff was sleeping very deeply. Their conversation had not bothered him, and indeed, they could now hear a quiet snore coming from his partially opened mouth.

Diana walked around and sat near her husband's head, while Arlene knelt on Jeff's other side, near his groin. "I wonder if he showered?" Arlene wondered aloud. "I'm not into cleaning stale pussy off his dick with my mouth."

Diana turned around enough to face her daughter. "Don't go in that direction. You never asked Jack about his bathing habits. Get to sucking young lady. I screwed up today with my bitchiness. Suck him awake and then fuck him really well. I want him in a better mood tomorrow."

Arlene grinned at her mother. She had just been jerking her mother's chain, anyway. She gently put her hand around her dad's cock and lifted it up. Wrapping her lipsticked lips around the head, she applied gentle suction. For a moment, nothing happened, then Jeff's cock began to swell and elongate.

Arlene held his dick up and looked at her mother. "I know that I have only seen three cocks, but it amazes me when they swell and raise up like this," she said, shaking her father's cock.

Jeff opened one eye and sotto voice, asked, "Are you going to discuss male anatomy, or suck my dick?"

Arlene had just clamped her mouth around his cock. She laughed, coughed, and choked while Jeff mock-glared at her.

Seeing that Jeff was awake, both women got up and stood at the foot of the bed, their shoulders back and their breasts thrust out. They glanced at each other, and in perfect unison, spoke their rehearsed question, "What would Master like for his women to do tonight?"

Diana knew they had scored when Jeff's dick jerked. I guess it's time for me to be a little more submissive, and a little less bitchy. This afternoon made it perfectly clear that he hasn't forgiven me, yet. Maybe this will get Jack off his mind. But dammit, I didn't mean for him to fuck my daughter forever, and it really pisses me off when he gets a hard-on looking at those girls jiggling their titties at him.

Jeff just lay there for a minute, then said, "I like waking up to a blowjob, but I want my first load to go up a pussy." He slid over to the side of the bed, then stood, his cock bobbing in front of him. The women continued their pose, although Arlene was fighting a snigger. He walked around behind them and stood looking at their backsides for a moment.

He slipped a finger down Arlene's ass crack and around to her pussy. She was already wet. Changing his attention to Diana, he did the same to her, but her pussy wasn't wet yet. "I watched one of the tapes all the way through, and scanned the other two. Seems like you two learned to suck titty pretty well and got into licking pussy, too. Why don't you get each other hot for me?"

Arlene grinned from ear to ear, and turned to her mother, but Diana wasn't pleased with this — at all. "Hon, I know I did suck Arlene's breast a little earlier, but not much. And, as to the other, we did that because Jack made us," she started. She saw Jeff's face flush. Oh, shit. Now I've done it. You stupid bimbo, why can't you keep your mouth shut,  she admonished herself.

Desperate, she grabbed Arlene's neck, much as Jeff had hers in the kitchen, and pushed her lips against Arlene's. Women kiss all the time she kept telling herself.

Without hesitation, Arlene pushed her tongue tip between her mother's lips then moved her mouth on her mother's. Diana's breath caught, but she returned the kiss.

While she was concentrating on looking haughty, Arlene dropped her free hand and cupped her mother's pussy. Diana jumped and made a sound into her daughter's mouth, but Arlene just pushed her mouth tighter against her mother's and searched for Diana's tongue.

Arlene expertly trailed her index finger through Diana's outer lips, then avoided her clit as she reached the top of her slit. She repeated the procedure, moving her finger at a snail's pace through the now swelling lips. Mom is so easy. She always says no, but her body responds almost instantly. Of course, I get just as excited. I can feel my pussy getting wetter. I wish Mom would pet me a little like I am doing for her. I guess I'm going to have to give her a little more incentive.

Arlene flicked Diana's clit half a dozen times, then pulling her mouth from her mother's, tugged the top of the nightie down over her left breast. Closing her lips around Diana's nipple, Arlene sucked hard. Diana quietly grunted and came, shivering and leaning against Arlene.

Arlene went back to kissing her mother, and guided Diana's free hand to her own pussy. Diana gave up and stroked her daughter, then sucked Arlene's nipple, too. Arlene wasn't as quiet when she came as her mother. Wow. I never realized it would be such a turn-on doing this in front of Dad. It must be affecting Mom, too. Her eyes look all sexy now, and her nipples are gorgeous.

As the women started kissing again, Jeff broke the spell. "I won't say this isn't exciting, but I think you have accomplished your purpose. We'll have a bit more of that later, but for now, I want both of you side by side on your hands and knees. I want some tail pussy. And I want to fuck both of you. I don't know who will get my load, yet. Both of you pull your outfits down below your tits."

The women pulled apart (reluctantly?) and positioned themselves on the bed. "Okay, Diana. I want two sluts who want to get fucked and want to please me. If you can't get it right, just pretend I'm Jack."

Diana fought back a retort. It was just as well; she would never have finished the sentence, anyway. Jeff rammed in with one long stroke, unerringly centering her cervix. It hurt like hell.

"Oh, Jeff. Oh, shit. That hurts," she said, trying not to whine, but not succeeding.

"You don't look very haughty trying to tuck your tail under your belly," Jeff said while holding firmly to her hips. "Stick that pussy up in the air and arch your back," he said, slowly withdrawing before pile driving back into her.

She managed to keep her mouth shut, but the grunt wasn't entirely ladylike this time. The third stroke produced one of Arlene's "uhs." Jeff started a rhythm, keeping his angle to hit her cervix almost every time. "Uh ... uh ... uh..." she grunted, in spite of herself. I sound just like my daughter did when Jack was fucking her on the picnic table. I hope Jeff doesn't notice, or if he does, he doesn't care. I sure as hell can't stop it. Oh, shit. It's beginning to feel good.

Jeff did notice, but he didn't care. In fact, it turned him on a little more. He picked up speed, and then as Diana was coming, jerked his dick out, producing a squeal of protest. He lined his cockhead up on his daughter's pussy and shoved to the hilt, almost pushing her on her face. Jeff grimaced as the tight pussy practically dehided his dick. They both grunted when he hit bottom. He noticed that Diana was frantically rubbing her pussy. Do her good to want some cock now and then. But she does look sexy with her tits jiggling as she frigs herself.

Watching his wife just made his dick get harder. He put one hand on Arlene's flat belly, then the other grasped a swinging breast, all the while pounding her womb as hard as he could. As soon as he grabbed her breast, Arlene wailed loud enough to wake the dead, her body shivering, and her pussy spasming around his dick. After spasming for a few seconds, her pussy clamped down on his cock so tightly that he could barely move in her.

Damn, she's a hot little hussy. Whoever marries her is going to be a lucky man. And have his hands full, besides. Both of them have no control at all when they have a dick in them, or have their tits pulled on. Thinking about that, he wondered just how much control Diana had when Jack twisted her nipple and pushed his dick into her in the kitchen. The way she had told it — none. Still... 

"All right, look in the mirror, both of you, and show me that look." He refrained from saying, "like you did Jack," but both females got the implication.

"Hold your heads up, and give me that look," Jeff managed to get out. They caught his eye in the mirror, and that did it. Arlene felt his cock harden and jerk, his ball sack pulling up tight against her pussy. His dick pulsed. She squealed and came as his spurt of seed splashed into her cervix. He spurted deep into his daughter's pussy once more, then yanking his dick out, the next spurt hit Diana in the ass. The two last spurts splashed into her cervix as he slammed to the hilt and held. Diana did not have any problem holding her pussy in the air this time. She was not quite there though, so he slipped a hand under a breast and kneaded and milked her nipple until she clamped down on him, whined, then shivered.

He pushed her forward for him to lie on her ass. He hunched her a few more times, relishing the feel of the slick, trembling pussy.

Arlene rolled over onto her back, watching Jeff and Diana.

Jeff rotated his ass trying to move his cockhead against his wife's cervix some more, but his dick deflated and popped out of Diana's pussy, along with a string of sperm. He also rolled over on his back between the women. "If you don't catch that come, you're going to have to sleep in a wet spot tonight," he laughingly told his daughter.

"Jeff, she can't sleep in here. Those girls will be up at the crack of dawn and find her in here for sure."

"Diana, get real. They're always whispering in a huddle. I'll bet they know exactly how many times I have fucked Arlene before tonight, and tomorrow, they will know everything we did here tonight."

Arlene was teasingly counting on her fingers. "I can't remember, exactly, Daddy. But they know about how many times," she said with her quiet little giggle.

"Oh, shit. How am I going to face them tomorrow?" Diana moaned.

Jeff just laughed. "If you get too embarrassed, just ask them how many times they fucked their fathers during the last week. That should be fair."

"Ann doesn't have a father," Arlene said to no one in particular. "She and her mother have had a very hard time of it. Her mother doesn't have any parents to help her out, either. If her mother loses her job, they will be in big trouble," Arlene finished.

"Jeff," Diana said, her voice serious, "Laura has been talking to me about her company downsizing. She seemed really worried the last time we talked."

"Yeah, Ann mentioned it on the way here. I've been gone so much that I didn't even know her company had been bought. But maybe it will work out."

"I hope so," Arlene said, getting up to get towels. She gave one to her mother, and used another one to wipe the wet spots on the bed. It didn't do much good.

Diana gave up and pulled the spread off the bed. "The sheet will be enough with three of us sleeping together," resigning herself to Arlene being found in their bed in the morning. She sighed and turned off the light. She definitely was not going to get up early, not with losing most of the last night's sleep, but she knew the girls would.

Realizing Jeff's dick was still wet, she felt around until she found the towel and wiped her husband's cock, since he was almost asleep. At least if he sticks it in my mouth the first thing in the morning, his dick won't be crusted with dried come.

As she lay back, Jeff put his arm around her and pulled her head to his shoulder. Arlene was already nestled in the crook of his other arm, her breasts pushing against his side.

Jeff grinned as he thought about his sperm searching for an egg to fertilize in both his women.

Shortly, they were all asleep.



-------

Chapter 12

Diana heard a tapping on the door, but before she could get up, it opened and Jennie stuck her head in. "Is Arlene in here?" she asked, innocently.

Diana called Arlene's name twice, to no avail. After Diana shook her, she blearily opened one eye.

Diana motioned to Jennie in the doorway. It was obvious from other noises that all the girls were there. When Arlene moved to look, she exposed her right breast, relieving any doubt about her being clothed.

"Come on, Arlene, we've got things to do, and a beautiful day is wasting, Jennie said, smirking."

"You slept last night. I didn't," Arlene protested.

All the girls giggled. Arlene hesitated a moment, then said, "Well, I mean, night before last, I guess. The night I flew out to pick you up."

Arlene was grinning, but Diana was turning redder by the moment. "Go, Arlene," her mother hissed at her.

Arlene grinned at her mother and got out of bed. The nightie she had worn was still pulled down under her breasts, and it wasn't long enough to cover her pussy, anyway. "Let's go to my room so I can get some clothes," she told the others, walking out, closing the door behind her.

Diana groaned, and hid her head in Jeff's shoulder. Jeff didn't notice; he was already back asleep. Diana knew the whole looking-for-Arlene thing had been contrived to catch her in the bed with her dad. Well, they certainly succeeded. And they probably saw the high heels sitting at the foot of the bed as well,  Diana thought, trying to get back to sleep.

After a few minutes, she gave up. She started to go take a shower and begin breakfast, but she thought about Jeff's attitude yesterday. Maybe if I gave him a blowjob he would not be ogling the bouncing titties so much. I know he thinks it shouldn't bother me if he looks at them, but it does. And when I get bitchy, he gets mad. I don't want another day like yesterday. He talked so much about waking up with his dick in Arlene's mouth, maybe he'll appreciate mine, too.

Diana eased down under the sheet trying not to wake her husband. As her face got near his groin, she could smell stale sex. She had wiped his dick last night, but she could smell his balls. The distinct sour smell was unmistakable, but as she lifted his cock and sucked the head between her lips, she found the smell was adding to the stimulation of having his organ in her mouth. The taste was strong, but it too, cried out that she had a virile male in her mouth.

Delicately, she licked around the head while applying only gentle suction. After a few seconds, she noticed that his cock was swelling. She moved her lips past the head an inch or so and sucked a little harder, pulsing her suction, rhythmically, the way Jack had taught her. A minute later, his cock filled and elongated, becoming hard as a rock, forcing her to raise her head against the sheet above his groin.

He has to be awake by now. His breathing has changed and his dick is putting out precome. I wonder if he can tell who it is. If he calls me Arlene, I'm going to bite him. She almost got tickled, but managed to keep from laughing as she moved her mouth up and down on his cock. She placed one hand around the base of his dick and stroked him in time with her mouth movement, increasing the suction, hollowing her cheeks, with her other hand gently massaging his balls. Jeff groaned deep in his throat.

A few seconds later, he thrust his dick to her throat, tensed and pumped a thick spurt of semen into her mouth. It was so unexpected that she almost choked, but quickly swallowed. She was ready for the next four spurts, swallowing while massaging the base of his dick at the same time. She let his cock slide from her mouth when the head became too sensitive for her to suck on it anymore.

As she moved back up beside him, she was almost positive that he had thought it was Arlene sucking his cock, but he covered it with a kiss and fondling of her breast. "Great way to start the day, Babe," he said, milking her nipple until her milk squirted and she came.

"I've got to go pee," Jeff said, throwing the sheet off.

"Not before me, you don't," she said, winning the race to the bathroom.

"Don't use the one in Arlene's bedroom," Diana said, laughing, "There are four girls in there."

Before Jeff could ask, she reminded him about them looking for Arlene, not really sure if he had been awake. "I think they wanted to see if Arlene were really in our bed. But I'll bet they were hoping for a glimpse of your cock," she said, smiling in spite of herself.

"You really got pissed at me for looking at the girls yesterday, didn't you?" Jeff asked in a quiet voice.

Diana didn't know how to respond. Jeff really hadn't said or done anything, except look, and the girls had put on a show for him. She didn't know why it bothered her so much. She had not seen him with a hard-on except on the deck, and there were only the two of them there.

"Well?"

She left the bathroom and he took her place. "I don't know what to say. It bothered me to see you looking at their breasts."

"So you got bitchy?"

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"For crying out loud, Diana. I'm fucking your daughter, at your instigation, and you get mad because I look at those other girls. There's something inconsistent about that."

"Look, Jeff, I started your day off with a blowjob to try to make sure you were in a good mood. Don't start."

"I'm not trying to start anything, Hon," he said coming back into the bedroom where she was. "I just don't understand why you got pissed at me. They were showing off for me, and I enjoyed it. That doesn't mean that I'm going to throw one of them down on the floor and have sex with them," Jeff said going into their closet in search of something to wear.

"I guess that's about what I am afraid of," she said tossing her nightie and his shorts in the dirty clothes hamper. "It's obvious that Jennie and Melissa want to jump your bones, and Arlene says that Ann told her she is thinking about having someone like you for her first."

Jeff bumped into the closet door coming back out of the walk-in closet, a pair of pants in his hand. "Why in the hell would she say anything like that?" he asked, staring at his wife.

"Ah, come on Jeff, the girl has got a crush on you, big time. And you know it."

"I do not 'know it'. And how did we get on this subject, anyway?"

"We know too much," Diana said. "I wish those girls didn't talk so much. If we hadn't heard about them having sex with their fathers, none of this would have happened."

"None of what? I haven't done anything."

Diana went into the closet past her husband. She tossed him a shirt, then selected shorts and a top for herself. "Just be cool," she said, coming back into the bedroom to rummage through her underwear drawer. She pulled out a bra and panties, but when she caught Jeff's eye, she tossed the bra back into the drawer. "Jeff, it isn't helping any with me running around here with my nipples sticking out. Half the time there are wet places on my top, as well."

"I don't want you wearing a bra unless you're going out. If Jack did one thing, it was to stir you up sexually, and I want to keep you that way."

I'm not about to touch that with a ten foot pole. Time to change the subject. "I thought I would take the girls out today, show them the area, carry them to the game room in Winter Park, and maybe do a little shopping with them. Do you have any plans?"

"Yeah, I do," he said, pulling the shirt over his head, watching his wife's breasts jiggle as she pulled the tight shorts up. "After you and I talked about setting up my lab the other day, I've been thinking about getting a contractor in and sectioning off an area in the basement. Goodness knows there is enough room down there to put in three skating rinks. If I use the west wing side, there will be a door to the outside pretty close to the stairway. Bringing in lab equipment won't be much of a problem. I also need to get on the phone and start running down some suppliers. Now that we have the money, there isn't any use in renting labs, I can just buy the equipment I need. Should be able to show most of it as expenses on our taxes, anyway."

He was disappointed as she pulled her top on, covering her long, sexy breasts. "That reminds me," he continued, "we need to see about getting a good tax lawyer, or accountant. Also, there is stuff in my shop at the old house that I need to get moved out here."

"I take it that your vacation is about over. How much money do you want,  anyway? Have you got to get back to work so soon?" she teased.

"It's not the money, Diana," he said, taking her remark seriously, "I can't just lounge around forever. With a little more research, I can modify this thing for other commercial uses. Plus, I have another idea that came about while I was building the radar. Besides, there's no deadline, if we want to travel, or go somewhere in particular, there's nothing stopping us. But I want to lay the groundwork for a lab and equipment."

Diana smiled at him and said, "I'm going to start breakfast before those girls decide to cook for themselves."

"So, let them. Surely they can fix breakfast. Arlene is getting to be a pretty good cook."

"It's not that. It just seems that I should cook this time. About all we ate yesterday were sandwiches and junk food. What would their mothers say if I didn't even cook for them?" She kissed him lightly on the lips and took off for the kitchen, her long breasts bouncing nicely, he noticed.

Yeah, Jack, you are a son-of-a-bitch, but you showed me how to fuck my wife, and I'm enjoying the hell out of it.

As he walked down the hallway, he was almost run down by Jennie riding one of the big vacuums. As he dodged into the living room, there were girls gathering up debris from the party. He had not been a stranger to a vacuum cleaner since they moved in, himself. Even though they used only a small portion of the retreat, even that area was a hassle to keep clean.

Entering the kitchen a few minutes later, he walked up to his wife, who was cooking pancakes. Putting his arms around her, he nuzzled her neck for a moment. She responded by pushing back against him.

"Coffee's ready," she said, and he turned toward the cup rack. Putting cups on the counter, he poured for them both.

"Didn't I see a number around here for a cleaning service?"

Diana put a stack of pancakes on a platter, and hit the intercom. "Breakfast is ready." Reaching into a drawer, she came out with a business card from a cleaning company. Handing it to him, she kissed him soundly, before picking up a plate of sausage and putting it next to the pancakes.

Well, I guess I don't have to ask if she wants me to call them.



-------

Chapter 13

Jeff spent the next three days ordering equipment and running errands, and also spent several hours with a small accounting firm in Boulder. He promised the accountant a sizeable bonus if he would substantially, and legally, cut down on the taxes he was going to have to pay.

"Incorporate. Only eight percent of the top one thousand corporations in the US pay any taxes at all," the accountant said.

When Jeff got back home, he was more confused than when he left, but the accounting firm had a good reputation. Jeff also knew a good lawyer that would gladly check up on everything they did — for a fee. Wadsworth certainly wasn't cheap, but he had saved Jeff some money when the contracts were signed. Actually, depending on how you looked at it, Jeff thought, the attorney had made him money with the little stalling routine, not to mention the loophole that would have reaped the other lawyers more money. Jeff decided to contact him again.

He was going to have to go back to the old house to pack up his equipment and get it shipped to the new house, but he decided to wait until he had the lab finished.

After a call to Frank to find out who built the convention center, he got in touch with the contractor and had him come out. It wasn't going to be a major job, just a couple of offices and two big lab rooms. The basement had a concrete floor and a finished ceiling. All he needed were walls, wiring, doors, etc. Then again, he would need a raised floor to take care of the wiring for the various pieces of equipment that would need cabling to the computers. Still, this would not be like building an extension on a house. Jeff sketched out plans for the lab while the contractor measured and took notes. He told Jeff he would get back with him in a couple of days with a price.

The guy seemed sharp as a tack. Jeff was impressed.

Jeff sat down at the computer and began laying out what he would put where.

-------

Diana was sitting at the counter peeling potatoes for dinner when Ann came through the door. "Where is everybody?" Diana asked.

"Oh, they're outside doing something."

"What's the matter? Did you get tired?"

"Not really. I ... Mrs. Matthews, I've..."

"Ann, I'm not that old. I should have stopped your using that title long ago. Now is a good time to accomplish that."

"I'm sorry. I need to ask you something — something really important."

Diana glanced at Ann and noted the serious expression. She put the peeler down and refreshed her coffee. "Want some coffee? Shall we go somewhere else to talk?"

"No coffee, thanks. And right here is fine as long as we're alone."

Ann sat at the table. Diana took a sip of her coffee and sat across from her. "What's so serious that you can't just out and ask me? Have I done something to upset you?" Diana asked, worried that the episode in the kitchen had come back to haunt her.

Ann shook her head, her hair swirling around her face. Diana noted that her nipples were prominently showing through her top. Something has her upset.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Ann still had not said anything. Diana was starting to really get worried. She's about to cry. I wonder if Arlene has hurt her feelings.

Finally, Ann quit staring at the table and looked Diana in the eye. "I know I'm going to mess this up. I just don't know how to say what I want to." She sighed as Diana reached across the table and took her hand.

"Diana, you know that I'm still a virgin. I've come close to not being one, twice. Once this guy almost raped me — date rape. He thought I wanted it. I wound up scratching his face pretty badly. Then another time I decided to do it, but chickened out before we got to the guy's house. He wouldn't speak to me for weeks."

Diana squeezed her hand. "You do that when you're ready and you have found the right person. Not until then. Don't let anyone pressure you into it. There is certainly nothing wrong with waiting until you're married."

"But I have found the right one. I've known it since I was thirteen. That's the reason I wouldn't do it with anyone else."

Diana smiled. "What's wrong? Does he have a girlfriend?"

"No," Ann sighed, then quietly added, "He has a wife."

Oh, Shit. Then as it really sank in: "Oh, SHIT."

Tears were now running down Ann's cheeks as she looked at the table and silently cried. She looked up at Diana, not taking her eyes off her face as she said, "I know I'm sixteen and a lot of people will just call it 'puppy love' or something like that. But whatever it is, I've had it since I was thirteen, and it hasn't gone away. I have dreamed about him making love to me for three years."

She sighed again, then said, "I had this all rehearsed out, and it sounded so logical, but when I walked in here, I just froze up. I guess what I'm here for is to ask you if your husband can take my virginity?"

Diana took a deep breath, not even realizing her own nipples had also popped out with the stress. "Ann, my husband swears that he has never touched another woman until a couple of weeks ago when I put Arlene up to seducing him. But there was a lot more to it than that."

"Mrs. Matthews, Arlene told us everything. I understand what happened and why."

Diana hardened her voice, pissed that Arlene had told far more than she should have. "Then you know that Jeff has never run around on me. He and I are both messed up with this thing. How in the world could you expect to add something else, someone else," she corrected, "to everything that has already happened to us?"

"I know he loves you and Arlene. I know he doesn't love me. He hardly knows I exist, but I'm not asking for your husband, I just want him to make love to me for one night."

"You're not asking for my husband?" Diana repeated, unable to keep from grinning despite Ann's sincerity. "You just want to use him for one night?"

Ann, flustered, said, "Well, I guess it didn't come out right. I promise I'm not trying to come between you two; nobody could. You're too beautiful for that. I just want to give him my virginity, instead of some boy that will brag about it to all his friends."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, right?"

With an intensity that Diana could hardly believe, Ann said, "I'm not trying to flatter you. I've always thought you were the prettiest woman I have ever seen, even prettier than my mother. But if she didn't have to work so many hours and worry so much, she would be a lot prettier than she is, though."

Diana got up and walked around the table. Pulling Ann to her feet, she hugged her, "We've got a problem, kid. Let's you and I go for a drive. We need to get out of here for awhile."

Picking up her keys, and with Ann in tow, she went out the back. Locating the girls, she called out, "Arlene, you people fix your own dinner, and Jeff's. Ann and I are going for a drive." When Arlene came running up to her wanting to know what was going on, obviously noticing Ann's red eyes, Diana added, "Tell your father everything is fine, just a woman thing. We'll be back later."

Unlocking the Escalade with the remote, she closed the door behind Ann, then hurried to the driver's side. Without looking at Arlene again, she quickly started the car and headed down the driveway.

Two hours, some ice cream, a stroll through the park, a lot of talk, and Diana had come to a conclusion: Other people had troubles, too.

-------

That night, Jeff was playing video games with Melissa, Jennie and Arlene. "You're just letting me win," Melissa accused him.

Jeff was not about to tell her he was trying his best to win. I used to be good at this stuff in college. Either I've really lost my touch, or these girls are out of my league. Either way, she's beating the shit out of me. He was saved from answering Melissa when his wife came in and crooked her finger at him. "The boss wants me," he said, nodding at Diana, relieved.

Arlene took over in his place with Jennie looking over her shoulder and giving advice. At least Melissa would get a little competition, he thought as he followed Diana out of the room.

A few minutes later, they were seated in the kitchen with hot cups of coffee in front of them. Diana waited until Jeff had taken a sip and put the cup down before starting. "I talked with Ann today, as you know."

"Yeah, what happened to her? Arlene said she had been crying, and you two went for a drive."

Diana did not answer him right away, instead she sat tapping her fingernails against her cup, making an odd sound that was getting on Jeff's nerves. "Come on Diana. What are..."

Diana interrupted with, "She wants you to take her virginity."

After a while Jeff sighed and said, "I thought it was going to be something like that after you talked about her wanting 'someone like me' to be her first. Did you straighten her out?"

He really doesn't have a clue. He is so sure that I would be against this that he isn't even interested. Now what shall I tell him? "I told her that I thought it was a great idea," she lied, just to see the expression on his face.

Jeff's face flushed like he was a teenager, until he realized she was kidding. "Shit, Hon. What did you tell the girl?"

"We had a long talk. She impresses me. All the girls are sharp, well above average. Obviously, Arlene picks smart people for friends, but Ann is very intelligent, as we both already know. Like our daughter, she has her head on straight. After I thought about it for a while, I told her I would talk to you about it. And, with some stipulations, I would try to talk you into it. As if that would be hard," she added.

Jeff glanced at his wife and frowned. "In other words, if Jeff gets the chance to fuck a sixteen-year-old-pussy, he'll jump at the chance," he almost snarled.

Oh, crap. This isn't going the way I thought it would. Have I stepped on his ego again? "No, I didn't say that," she said aloud. "But I can't imagine why you wouldn't jump at the chance. She's sexy as she can be, and she has been in love with you for years. I'm not worried about your running off with her and leaving me. So why shouldn't you be her first? I thought all men considered a virgin the ultimate turn on," she muttered.

Jeff drummed his fingers on the table, unconsciously returning the irritation. "Diana, I fell in love with you many years ago. The only thing that's changed about that, is that I probably love you more now. I'm still fighting the Jack thing, but I do love you, Hon. Don't you think that I could have fucked other women if I had wanted to?" As she started to respond, he raised his hand a little, signaling her to wait. "We took some vows, way back when, and other than Arlene, I've upheld them.

"But to answer your question, yeah, some guys like a cherry," he said. "Some kids in school try to see how many girls they can deflower. But there are other men that I have talked to that would not even date a virgin, if they knew. Sometimes a first time just isn't worth the trouble."

"Jeff, I know darn well that you're just stalling. Besides, I've told her that you're the best there is, both in bed, and as a husband," she quietly said.

Jeff's face softened as he looked at his wife. "Oh, shit. Diana, you're really serious about this. Look. Sure I would like to push my dick up into that tight little pussy for the first time. But what then? You stayed pissed at me all day yesterday for my watching titties jiggle. Now you say you want me to fuck one of those same girls that you got mad at me about. If I got into that much trouble by just looking, guess how much shit I would be in if I fucked one of them. I'm not dumb enough to get involved in this. It wouldn't be worth it."

"Look, I had PMS. Okay? And I guess I got a little jealous when you kept watching them. I'm almost thirty. I can't compete with four teenagers. Especially those four. You would have a hard time finding four girls that pretty in the state. Having them all under one roof with them vying for my husband's attention, just kind of pushed me over the edge. The bitch came out. I'm sorry."

Diana was obviously fighting not to cry. Jeff got up and walked around the table. After pulling a chair over next to hers, he took her in his arms. "You need to seriously look in the mirror," he said into her ear. "Number one: you don't look thirty. More like barely out of your teens. Number two: you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Seriously. I've seen guys, literally, walk into stuff while trying to look at you. It's no wonder Arlene is as pretty as she is. You've made references to my ego from time to time. Well, more than references, I guess. But it looks to me like yours is hanging out there a bit, too. Oh, I know a lot of my problem with Jack is my ego. My wife passing out when he fucked her. That sort of thing. But your insecurity over these girls has to be along the same lines. At least I had some reason; you don't. But back to the problem. How in the world could you stand it if I should fuck that girl, if my watching their titties jiggle rattles your cage so much?"

"All I know is, it won't. I've gotten to know her position with this better — even gotten to know her better. And, I guess I feel sorry for her. She does love you, but she can't have you."

"Diana, I swear, I've never done anything to lead that girl on. She's been over to the house a thousand times, I guess. I watched her grow from a kid into a young woman. But I have never even thought about making any kind of advances toward her."

"I know you haven't. She thinks that you don't even know she exists. But I want you to make her dreams come true. I want you to make love to her the way you have to me so many times."

"You mean put her on her hands and knees and try to ram her womb into her throat?" he asked, laughing.

"You would be shocked if she loved it, but no. Make love to her. Show her she's special. You were a master at that before Jack ever taught me that I could like it a little rougher." Diana cringed inwardly, but Jeff just grinned.

"At least I know what turns you on, now."

Diana changed the subject, slightly. "I talked with Laura just before I looked you up. She and Ann have been talking about this, apparently long before Ann came out here."

Jeff looked at his wife. "Are you saying Laura knows about Ann wanting me to take her virginity?" he asked, incredulously.

"Apparently they share everything. She told me to tell you that she could not think of anyone that she had rather her daughter slept with for her first time."

Jeff could not think of anything to say. I will never understand women. Finally, he stammered. "Are you sure you understood each other? I would assume that she would have the cops after me if she found out."

"For what. Ann is legal. She is above the age of consent. Her mother couldn't send the cops after you, even if she didn't approve. But she does, wholeheartedly."

Diana, frustrated to begin with, was getting more so now. "Jeff, I didn't think I would have to twist your arm to get you to make love to this girl. Maybe you're not like most guys. No that's wrong. I know you're not like most men, but I thought I might even be a little pissed at you for over-enthusiasm. But I never thought you would balk at this. That girl loves you, and I want you to make love to her. Not just once, but several times while she is here. I'm proud of my husband — more than you will ever know — and I want you to fulfill her fantasy. At least to the lovemaking part, you can't marry her," she smiled. His face was close to hers and she kissed him on the mouth.

"Get Laura on the phone," he said, breaking the kiss. I'm not even considering this until I talk to her.

Thirty minutes later, Jeff hung the phone up. Now what am I going to do? Hell, Laura volunteered that Ann is on birth control — a shot every three months since she was thirteen. Diana is sitting there with that smirk on her face, and I'm getting a hard-on. If she sees that, I'm dead. Aloud he said, "Now what do we do? And does everybody have to know?"

"You're kidding, right? You know that those girls are talking about this right now."

Jeff looked stunned, almost panicked, even.

Diana, laughing, threw out the cold coffee, and poured him a fresh cup. She leaned back and lit a cigarette, pleased that his eyes followed her movements, focusing on her mouth. "Take your coffee and go find the girls. Does tomorrow night sound good to you?" Without waiting for him to answer, she continued, "I figure one of the north suites, say starting at six. We'll stay basically out of sight for twenty-four hours. Just the two of you. We'll bring you your meals and put them in the sitting room, but we won't come into the bedroom. In twenty-four hours, you will have her so sore that she won't be able to do anything else. I'll take her shopping tomorrow morning. She will want to have new stuff for you. Now shoo. And tell Ann that I want to see her," she continued, preoccupied.

Jeff found everyone in the living room, watching television. At least the set was on, but he thought they had been talking when he came down the hall, and had stopped when he came in. Nodding to Ann, he said, hoping desperately that he was not blushing, "Diana said she wants to see you in the kitchen," he managed to say, hopefully in normal tones, except for his voice cracking a little on the last word.

The girls looked at each other, then Ann got up and quickly walked out the door, almost running.

A few seconds later he had taken a sip of coffee, just put his cup down, and was wondering what to do, when Ann came running back into the room. She squealed, jumped full tilt into his arms, locking her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. As he staggered back, she kissed him soundly — decidedly not a little girl kiss — then solemnly told him, "Thank you." There were catcalls and rude sounds from the girls. Ann, blushing profusely, dashed back out of the room to make plans with Diana.

Jeff had an instant erection.

Arlene came over and hugged him. "Thanks, Dad. You're the greatest." Feeling him push against her, she looked down. "Oooh. I see someone else is excited about this," she teased.

Before he could say anything, Melissa and Jennie hugged him too, rubbing their braless breasts against his chest, giggling. They dashed out of the room to join the planning session.

I just know that Diana is going to come to her senses, and I'm going to get killed because of this.

-------

Arlene had not slept with them last night, and Diana had not come to bed until Jeff was asleep. When Jeff awakened the next morning, Diana's sexy mouth was wrapped around his cock. He hoped he would always wake up with his dick in her mouth. As he felt his balls start to tingle, Diana popped her mouth off his dick, and grinning, said, "You need to save that for Ann. When you come in her tonight, I want her to feel it."

"Look, Baby," he said, desperately, "I'm really close. I'll have plenty built up by then..."

"Not a chance, Big Boy. And don't you dare masturbate while we're gone. I want you to make me proud tonight. I want her pussy to feel absolutely bloated when you come. Now promise me you won't waste that while we're gone."

"Diana, it feels like it's about to come out my ears, now. I..."

"Promise."

"Oh, all right. I promise," Jeff said, trying to put a sour expression on his face, but not succeeding very well.

Diana left the bedroom wearing her negligée, and a few minutes later came back with a troop of girls following her. Jeff's hard-on was denting the sheet that he desperately grabbed as the door opened, but Melissa saw his cock before he covered himself. She stopped so quickly, the other girls piled into her from behind.

"Ann, you're going to be sore tomorrow," she proclaimed as they all went into the dressing room. They were not even giggling. Jeff grabbed his clothes from yesterday and took off toward Arlene's bedroom to get dressed. He was beginning to feel more and more like a machine. A manlike machine with a dick — then again, a dick with a manlike machine attached to it. Maybe he should check out the basement and see what the contractor had gotten laid out. The women would probably all be gone shopping inside an hour. He could kill that much time. I can't believe I'm so uptight about this. Shouldn't it be Ann that's upset? He did not make it halfway to the basement before Arlene called out, "Dad, we need you."

Now, what do they want? At least my dick has gone down.



-------

Chapter 14

Jeff had thought that Ann would be waiting for him in the suite, probably wearing a new negligée. That, however, was not the way the women had planned Ann's deflowering. That might suit a mere male, but that was not the way the women thought. I might have known it wouldn't be that easy,  he realized, eyeing his clothes that Diana had placed on the bed for him.

"Put the suit on, Jeff. Don't even think about saying no."

"Why are you dressed up?" he asked, noting his wife's new dress — at least he thought it was new.

"I'm going to be serving. Everyone is. You will meet Ann in the hallway just before the big dining room. You will take her arm and escort her in to dinner. Treat her like the lady she is, like you do me when we go out. Make her feel like a million dollars. After dinner, you will escort her to your suite, and from there, you're on your own."

Jeff did not say anything for a moment. He was thinking about something else. "Baby, I wish it had been this way for you. Not the backseat of a car with me not knowing what to do. Not to say anything about getting you pregnant."

"Well, if I hadn't been so busy coming from your sucking on my nipples, I could have said no. Don't put too much blame on yourself. Besides we had a good time, and we got Arlene out of that backseat."

Jeff picked up his shorts, but Diana knelt in front of him. Taking his cock in her hand, she kissed the head and licked it. Standing, she kissed him and quickly turned away. In a tight voice, she said, "I've got to run. See you in the dining room. Make me proud."

Jeff knew there were tears in her eyes; although, she had purposely turned away before he could see them. But he did not know exactly why there were tears in her eyes. Sad? Wishing she had not set this up? Proud of him? Glad for Ann?

I can't go down that road. If I get into worrying now, I could really mess up. It would be a real irony if I got so uptight I couldn't get my dick up. That girl would never get over it.

A little later, he was dressed and wondering if he should be looking for Ann when the bedroom door opened and Arlene walked in. She, like her mother, was wearing a black, mid-thigh dress that looked like it cost a bundle. Also like her mother, she obviously was not wearing a bra and was showing a lot of breast with the neckline of the dress. Her makeup was well done — understated. He suspected this shopping trip had cost him a ton of money. He now had no doubt that all the girls were dressed for the occasion.

As they started out of their bedroom suite, Arlene held her arm out. "You're the best, Dad. I know you will make her remember this all her life."

For a moment Jeff could not speak, fighting a lump in his throat. Finally, he managed, "Fuck her brains out, right?"

Arlene put his hand inside her dress, cupping it over her breast. Kissing him lightly, she giggled, and whispered, "Make her walk funny." Sobering, she removed his hand from her breast, and taking his arm, they walked out of the suite and into the hallway.

There were several turns before they reached the hallway for the main dining room. As they made the last turn, he could see Ann standing at the other end, wearing a white dress that had to be the mate of the black ones that Diana and Arlene were wearing. Yes. A ton of money. But it's already worth it.

-------

The dinner had gone off without a hitch. There was not a single giggle from any of the girls. Jeff thought they must have stayed up half the night planning and practicing. He had eaten at four-star restaurants that had not served as well, nor had the food been any better. Melissa even popped the wine cork with a flourish, poured a small amount in his glass and presented it to him for his approval, in utter sincerity. He had swirled the wine around in the glass like he had seen in the movies, tested its bouquet, and tasted it. When he gave his approval, Melissa poured for Ann, then Jeff.

Ann took it all in just as if Jeff knew what he were doing. They could have picked this stuff up at the local mini mart and I wouldn't know the difference.

He noted that Ann only drank half of her glass of wine. The meal took forty-five minutes. From time to time, one of the girls, or Diana, took pictures as the couple was served. He noticed a video camera discreetly mounted on a small tripod that was sitting on a table at the other end of the dining room. As they stepped out into the hall after they were done, Diana took more still shots. They're treating this just like a wedding. This is going to be a hard act to follow. What am I going to do that will equal this when we get to that suite? I'm beginning to think that I'm more scared than she is.

Glancing down at the beauty beside him, he tucked her arm in his and said, "Shall we?" trying his absolute best to radiate confidence.

When they got to the suite, he opened the door and scooped her into his arms, carrying her across the threshold. He nudged the door closed with his foot, desperately hoping Diana had not been watching when he picked Ann up, hoping that if she were watching, the threshold bit wouldn't piss her off.

She had been. She proudly said to her daughter, "I told you he would." They both had tears in their eyes, but they were smiling too, as they turned away with the other girls, heading back to the kitchen to discuss Ann's "wedding."

Jeff sat Ann on the couch, then sat beside her. He noticed a slight tremor in her hands as she smoothed her skirt down. Is she scared or excited? He had no idea, but after sitting beside her, he put his arm around her and kissed her forehead. "Diana tells me we have a full twenty-four hours and that this will not be the only time, either. So we can relax and get to know each other."

Ann looked up at him and smiled as he continued, trying to relax her, "To tell you the truth, Ann, I'm a little uptight. I want this to be just the way you want it to be, and I'm afraid I might do or say something wrong," he said, thinking a little candidness might help to calm her. "So, if you don't mind, let's just talk for a little while. Is that okay?"

Ann kissed him on the cheek and in a quiet voice, said, "I would like that. I've thought about this so many times, but now I feel somewhat foolish. I never expected your wife to do all this. They sent me to bed last night while they did all the planning. I had no idea that it was going to be this elaborate. Mrs ... uh, Diana must have spent an awful lot of money on all the clothes. I know mine cost a lot, but they kept shuffling me around when we went shopping, obviously hiding what they were doing. But I had no idea that she bought outfits for everyone. And that meal must have been catered. I'm feeling really guilty right now."

Jeff grinned at her, hoping to set her a little more at ease. "Well, the one thing that you definitely don't have to worry about is the cost. As you know, we came into a bit of money, and I'm never going to spend half of it. I'm proud of Diana. She did this with class. And you do look good in that dress."

Ann blushed nicely. "What there is of it," she said, forcing herself to not push the neckline back in place as half her left breast was exposed. The neckline went almost to her bellybutton.

"Would you like some more wine," Jeff asked, noticing the bottle on ice near the couch. When she nodded her head, he picked up the wine and started working on the cork. "I don't think I'm as good at this as Melissa is," he said as the cork finally gave up and came out of the bottle.

"Where did she learn to do that?" Ann laughed. "She was so professional when she opened it and poured for us. I almost couldn't believe that was Melissa standing there and waiting for you to approve the wine."

"Search me. I certainly didn't teach her. To say the least, I'm not a wine connoisseur."

Jeff drank a small glass of the wine, and Ann drank a half glass before he took it and put it on the table. Taking her face in his hands, he touched his lips gently to hers. Then before she realized what was happening, he scooped her up, and as he stood with her in his arms again, he put his mouth against hers and kissed her for real.

She responded timidly at first, then opening her mouth slightly, returned the kiss in kind. He still had not done anything with his tongue. After a moment, he broke the kiss and carried her into the bedroom where he deposited her gently onto the bed. Sitting beside her and leaning down, he again kissed her forehead. Working his way around, he touched his lips in a trail around to her ear, where he spent some time. He did not put his tongue into her ear, just breathed behind her earlobe, then kissed there before slowly working his way down to her neck.

As he kissed his way past the little hollow just above her collarbone, he felt her tense up a little, and her breathing changed. Ah, I'll have to remember that place and revisit it later. Continuing to kiss his way downward, he used the plunging neck of the dress to allow him access to skin as he kissed southward. He knew that she was expecting him to go for her breasts. Probably every boy she had been out with had either done that, or tried, so he kissed between her breasts, just barely touching the beginning of their slopes before continuing on toward her stomach.

When the slit ran out and he could no longer touch bare skin, he continued downward, kissing her body through the dress. When he reached her mound, he slowed his pace, listening and feeling for her breathing. Judging from that, she was sure he was headed for her vagina. Just before reaching it, however, he swerved aside, kissing down the top of her leg until he reached the bottom of her skirt.

Hesitating a moment, he kissed and tongued his way down the inside of her leg through her stockings. By now, he was almost at the foot of the bed. He gently nudged her legs until she spread them enough for him to kiss the inside of her thighs and a little of the back of her knee. He felt her tense up yet again, but after a few light kisses and licks, he continued toward her feet.

As he reached her feet, he slipped a finger inside her heels and slipped them off, one at a time, while he pushed his own shoes off. He spent several minutes lightly massaging her feet through her hose. I hope those are thigh highs and not pantyhose. If they're pantyhose, she might as well be wearing a suit of armor. He couldn't see far enough up her legs to be certain.

He kissed the bottom of her feet and licked them a little, but the nylon was beginning to make his tongue tingle. He wanted to lick the back of her other knee on the way back up, but kissing would have to do for now. As he came back up her leg, he hooked his fingers in her skirt and very slowly pushed it up ahead of his mouth. That got her attention.

Acutely aware of her breathing rhythm, he noticed the change as his mouth explored farther up the inside of her thigh. She shuddered as his mouth left the top of her hose and encountered bare flesh. No pantyhose. Good. As he pushed up on her skirt and followed with his mouth, she raised her rear slightly off the bed so the skirt would move. She was as subtle as if she had done it a hundred times before.

He was approaching her womanhood. Should he bypass it again and head for her breasts? Maybe he should have undressed her on the way down, he thought. But I don't want to be predictable. Breasts are always first. I'll bet she was sure I would kiss and suck them before I kissed her center. Diana said to make her proud of me. He continued toward her womanhood. She was wearing delicate white, almost see-through, bikini panties that had a moist spot. Good. Hooking his fingers in the top of the panties, he slowly slid them down. Again, she rose up just enough for him to slide them off without strain. He continued until they were on the floor, then resumed his kissing. Sparse auburn hair, neatly trimmed, greeted him. As his mouth finally touched the bottom of her outer lips, she hissed and shuddered with a mini orgasm. He noted her girl smell, faint, but distinctly woman. Her hands were now in his hair as he kissed the outer lips to the top of one side of her womanhood, then down the other, being careful to bypass her clit.

When he was again at the bottom, he walked his lips up her center, stopping just short of her clit. Without him realizing it, she at some point, had drawn her knees up and spread her legs wider. He did not know whether it was an unconscious thing, or she had anticipated him, and was making things as easy for him as she could.

At the bottom of her slit again, he added his tongue to the kissing, wiping it upward through her outer lips, slightly penetrating her inner also, producing a tightening in her thigh muscles. Finally, he allowed his tongue to swipe her clit. About a dozen swipes from the bottom of her lips to her clit did it. This was no mini orgasm. This was the real thing, he thought, as she sucked in her breath, her bottom came off the bed and her thighs slammed shut on his head with a grip that was astonishing. He could faintly hear her crying out as she violently shivered, grinding her slit into his mouth. As she started to come down, he gently sucked her clit between his lips, being careful to watch for a flinch of overstimulation. After a long time, she relaxed and her thighs released. He could hear again.

"I didn't know it could be that good. I never dreamed..." she whispered

Her face was highly flushed from her orgasm. Her reactions had moved the front of her dress around until her left breast was exposed past the nipple. Even on her back, the breast stood proudly in a perfect cone, with a beautiful pale pink nipple sticking well up from the exact center. Breasts and all the exposed skin he could see were also flushed.

As her breathing returned to near normal, he added his tongue to his ministrations. Her hips began a small undulating motion. There was a catch in her breathing almost immediately. Multiorgasmic, without a doubt. A few moments later, she proved him right with her second full-blown orgasm. This time when she clamped her thighs together, he was ready and avoided getting his ears crushed, but she squeezed just as hard. He certainly was not going anywhere. Her body went taut, rising off the bed until she almost seemed to be balanced on her heels and the back of her head. The wail she let out would do any man's heart good. Boy, whoever carries this little lady to a motel better muffle her mouth or someone will call the cops for sure.

He tried to hold her at her plateau as long as possible before she relaxed and then went completely limp. He looked up at her face. She was not out, but he would bet she could not say her name right now. Sliding up beside her, he took her in his arms and nestled her head on his shoulder, just holding her.

After a few minutes, he was beginning to wonder if she had slipped off to sleep when she sighed and quietly said, "Wow," drawing the word out, awe evident in her voice.

I'll take that as a compliment. He smiled as he noted her breathing changing. A few minutes later, she did drift asleep, as did he.

He woke with something warm and soft against his mouth. He felt the nub rub through his lips again. Capturing the nipple, he gently sucked while moving the tip of his tongue against it. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with a pair of sparkling green eyes smiling back at him. "Thank you," she said. "I never imagined it could be that good. Anything I ever did to myself never felt a millionth that good. No wonder Arlene never stops talking about how good you are."

Inwardly, he flinched. What had Arlene not told?

As she pulled her breast back from his mouth and sat partway back up, he realized that she was totally nude and straddling his stomach. He, on the other hand, still had all his clothes on, with the single exception of his shoes.

"We're going to have to do something about that," she said, almost reading his mind. Sliding off him, she continued, "I've never undressed a guy before, or a girl either, for that matter, but I want to undress you. Is that okay?"

Tearing his eyes from her jiggling breasts, he mumbled out some sort of affirmative, he supposed. He must have, since she started pulling on his suit coat.

He shrugged out of his coat, tossing it on the carpet, then the tie. My best suit. Diana will have my ass. But he wasn't getting out of bed to hang the coat up. The teen unbuttoned his shirt, and he shrugged out of it as well. He had on a white tee-shirt that she pulled up, but she got involved in running her hands through the hair on his chest and kissing his nipples. His nipples had never been very sensitive, but he had to fight to keep his dick down, anyway. I don't want my dick to be all the way up the first time she sees it. She has been a real joy so far, and I don't want to scare her.

The shirt came off and she lay on top of him for a few minutes, moving her nipples through his chest hair. She locked her mouth to his, teasing him with her tongue for the first time. She rubbed her crotch against his groin. Realizing he could not hold back an erection with this type of stimulation, he unbuckled his belt, distracting her.

She slid down him, unzipped his pants, and tugged them down and off. She stopped, sitting and looking at the growing bulge in his shorts. He started to slip his shorts down himself, when she brushed his hands aside and did the job herself. She had gotten his shorts just clear of his groin when she froze and stared. They watched as he lost the battle. His cock finished swelling, then in a matter of less than a minute, stood fully erect.

He could see a faint, probably unconscious, shaking of her head. "It will, Ann. A baby's head is much bigger around, and it comes out of a woman, of course attached to the baby, he grinned. We have a whole day ahead of us. We'll take our time. Just trust me on this, please. Arlene and Diana take it and I'm not gentle with them. They want it a little rough most of the time. I promise you that I will be gentle with you and go at your pace. You can stop at any time. You're the one in charge here. There is nothing that says that you can't leave here tomorrow still a virgin, if that's what you want."

She grinned at him. "Not a chance. I'm not going to chicken out on you. I've waited for this too long to do that." Looking back at his dick, she continued, "Are all men this big?"

He knew that she was aware that men came in many different sizes, but he answered as honestly as he could. "No. I am a little bigger than most, but there are plenty of men bigger than me. Some women say size isn't important. Others say the opposite. I think that the man caring for the woman, and doing his best to do the things that please her, will have far more effect than size. My tongue never penetrated you more than a half inch or so, but you seemed to enjoy it pretty well," he gently chided her.

She blushed and glanced at him, then looked back at his penis. "Can I touch it?"

"Sure," he laughed, "but pull those shorts the rest of the way down. They feel weird where they are."

She laughed a little, but removed the shorts. Sliding up the bed beside his hip, she leaned over and touched the tip of his cock. It jerked. She almost snatched back. Grinning a little at her own reaction, she gently wrapped her hand around his staff just below the head. Jeff put his hand around hers and showed her how to stroke a man.

"The head, especially the tip, is very sensitive, also the area on the underside of the head. As I become more stimulated, I will be able to stand more pressure, but after I ejaculate, the head will become hypersensitive for a little while. Almost any stimulus during that time will be almost like pain."

"I've seen a couple of porn movies," Ann said, holding his dick and looking at him. "The guys' penises were not any bigger than yours. They may not have been as big. And the men shot their stuff on the woman's belly or sometimes her face. It was gross to me. But I always fantasized about you shooting your stuff ... your sperm, inside me."

"Believe me," he grinned at her, "shooting sperm inside the woman's vagina is a real turn-on for me, too. But for some reason, the porn industry seems to think that they should prove that the man shoots off. So, the guy usually pulls out and shoots where the camera can see it. I've only seen a couple where the guy shot off in the girl. When he pulled out, come ran out of her vagina. It was much more exciting for me."

While he had been talking, she moved her hand and gently lifted his balls. Obviously, someone had told her about being cautious with a man's balls. Either that, or she had read about it. He would bet on Arlene, or one of the other girls, though.

She has no idea how beautiful and sexy she is sitting there holding my dick.

He knew she was responding to his manhood; her nipples were elongated and hard, poking out like pink pencil erasers. Surprising him, she leaned over and kissed the head of his dick, which promptly jumped like it wanted more. Which it did.

She grinned again and tentatively kissed around the head, then licked across the hole. He knew she had tasted his precome, but instead of stopping, she opened her mouth wider and pushed her lips around the head. Without being told to, she sucked gently and moved her head up and down a little.

Maybe all those whispered conversations between the girls were not so bad after all,  he thought, realizing where her knowledge was probably coming from.

She took her mouth off him and looked up. "I've jacked a couple of boys off, but I've never really seen balls, other than little kids'. The guys just pulled their penises out of their pants. And I've never given a blowjob. A guy did his best to get me to, but I wouldn't. I always thought of you, before I went too far. I wanted my first time to be with you. Show me how to give you a blowjob. Arlene told me, and I've heard other girls — Melissa and Jennie — but I want to do it right for you."

Now how can I turn down a beautiful sixteen-year-old who wants to give me a blowjob? But if I shoot off in her mouth, I won't have as much come to go up that tight little pussy. Aloud, he said, teasingly, "Well if you twist my arm." Ann giggled her sexy little giggle, and he chuckled.

"You had a great start. You can use your hand on the base of my penis to stroke me like I showed you a while ago, while you do me with your mouth. You can put a little, or a lot, more vacuum on the head. Just tighten your lips and move your mouth up and down the shaft."

As she put action to his words, his breath caught and he stumbled over his instructions. After a couple of minutes, she pushed her mouth down too far and hit her gag reflex, but she quickly recovered and continued. A new female, an eager teenager, her sexy mouth encircling his dick, plus the sight of her swaying breasts, was bringing him quickly to orgasm. Her enthusiasm was growing as well. Her speed was picking up and her face was flushed.

"Easy, Little One. If you keep that up, I'm going to put a load of come down your throat. We should, maybe, wait a while for that."

With an audible pop, Ann pulled her mouth off his throbbing penis. She looked questioningly at him, her lips slightly swollen from her ministrations to his manhood. "I thought guys loved blowjobs. Why don't you want to finish?"

He pulled her back up on top of him. Her breasts felt wonderful pressed against his chest, and his dick was between her legs just below her pussy. "I would love to come in that sexy mouth of yours, but while girls can come many times, guys usually take a while to recharge, and can't come nearly as many times, either. Also, your vagina might be a bit sore tomorrow and oral sex would be a lot easier than regular sex then."

"So, are you going to pop my cherry now?" she teased, rubbing her nipples in his chest hair.

Boy, she surely isn't bashful. "Only if you're ready."

"I've been ready since I was thirteen. I want you inside me. Jennie and Melissa tell me it is a thousand times better than I could ever imagine. And you wouldn't believe what Arlene says." She blushed again and said, "If it's anything like the difference in orgasms..." she sighed, leaving the statement unfinished.

Jeff took her face in his hands and gently kissed her mouth while extending his hand to her womanhood. He teased her nether lips for several minutes, occasionally brushing her clitoris. After a while, he concentrated his attention on her little bud. Her mouth became more frenzied on his, then she shuddered, humped her mound against his hand, and came. She pulled her mouth away, fighting to get her breath, her movements slowing to a stop. He could swear she was purring as she kissed his neck. How do women do that?

"What do we do now?" she sighed. "If you keep giving me orgasms, I'm going to go to sleep on you after one of them. I'd hate to wake up in the morning, still a virgin," she said, clamping her legs tight, trapping his erection between them.

"Well, there's the old faithful way, with me on top. But if we do it with you on top, you can stop or go ahead at your own pace. As it goes in a little and maybe becomes uncomfortable, you can stop and get accustomed to it, then start again when you feel like it. Probably that way would be easier on you. I'm here to do anything I can to make this as pleasant an experience as I can. Again, we have a whole day ahead of us; there's no hurry."

Ann sat back up, straddling him just below his groin. Taking his penis in her hand, she looked back at him. "I know that. Your wife is a wonderful person to let me have you for a whole twenty-four hours."

She positioned herself, rising up as much as she could to touch the tip of his cock against her pussy. She rubbed his cock through her lips until it lined up with her virgin hole, then let a little of her weight down to try to push his prick in. She was having trouble getting the angle just right, and her lips didn't seem to want to stretch enough to accommodate him.

Jeff gently massaged her breasts and tweaked her nipples to try to keep her stimulated. Finally, the head popped past her lips. She sucked in her breath and froze.

"Just wait. Don't push any more. Let yourself get used to it," he cautioned, afraid she would push too far and cause pain.

After a while, she tentatively pushed, but nothing much happened. Grimacing, she pushed harder, then still harder. She was obviously hurting some, even though his cock hadn't gained very much, if any.

Spying a tube of lubricant on the bedside table, he said, "Wait, baby. I see something that will help us. Raise up for a minute." Thank you, Diana.

Sliding partway from under her, he was able to reach the tube. He lubed the head of his cock while she blushed. She's tighter than I remember Diana being. This was supposed to be her night. It isn't going to be much of a night if she is hurting like crazy. "Try it again, now. Don't get frustrated. You'll be proud you have such a tight pussy one of these days."

She didn't say anything, just lined herself up and pushed. His cock went in about a half inch, then she put some real weight on it and forced it in a little more. He was almost ready to tell her to stop when she quit pushing on her own. The first half inch of his cock felt like it was stuck in a vice. There would be two people sore tomorrow, if this kept up.

She pulled back, experimented a little, then bore down again. His dick pried its way into her a little more until it reached her hymen. It felt like he hit a brick wall. She squeaked and froze. After sitting still a moment with him trying to comfort and encourage her to take her time, she rose up a little. Looking him in the eye, she dropped herself on him with the obvious intention of ramming his cock all the way in. It didn't work — his cock hit her hymen and stopped. Both of them sucked in their breath. If this keeps on, I'll have a bruise on the head of my dick.

She rose back up until the head of his cock was just spreading her lips, then dropped really hard onto him. Brick wall, again. Sweat was dripping off her forehead as she looked at him. "Wouldn't you know the thing would be armor-plated," she said with a sick grin on her face and tears in her eyes.

"Easy, Baby. Lie back down on my chest and rest for a while."

"Rest?" she laughed. "I can rest anytime. Roll over on top of me and take my cherry. Burst the damn thing. I want to be a woman."

"We might have a problem here," he said, frowning a little, "I've heard of girls that had to have their hymen clipped by a doctor. It's rare, but it happens. The doctor just nicks it with a scalpel if the hymen is too thick to break naturally."

"Roll over on me and do it. I'm not leaving here tomorrow still a virgin. Tonight, I'm going to be your woman. Nothing is going to stop that, even if I have to get a knife and break the damn thing myself," she said, looking him in the eye.

They managed to roll over and stay together. He gave it one more shot at trying to talk her out of it, but she cut him off by the time he opened his mouth. "I know you were trying to be gentle and give me the best night of my life. It has been, and it will be. I had hoped it wouldn't hurt, but it's going to. I want that big beautiful cock inside me. I guess I'll blubber a little bit, but I'm tougher than you think," she intensely said.

After the remark about the knife, he definitely believed her. He had a vivid mental picture of her sticking a knife up her pussy to cut her hymen. The thought scared him.

Ann pulled her knees up beside his hips and spread them. "One time — all the way. Then hold me until the pain goes away. Make me a woman!"

Jeff leaned over and kissed her, his weight on his forearms. As their lips parted, he slammed his cock forward — hard, shattering her hymen. As his dick broke through her cherry, he pressed his mouth hard against hers. She screamed into his mouth, even as she tried to kiss him. His dickhead felt like he had tried to shove it through a brick wall. The head stung like crazy. He grimaced, trying to hold the kiss. If it hurts me that badly, she has really got to hurt. Trying to ignore the stinging, he slid his dick up her overly tight tube all the way to her cervix, where he held gently against it.

Her body writhed for a couple of seconds before she froze, clutching his back, driving her nails in. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she sucked air hard through her nose several times. Jeff didn't move, nor push hard against her cervix. He wasn't all the way in, but he had gotten more in than he would have thought for her size. He gently parted their lips and set about kissing away her tears. After a couple of minutes, she sighed and said, "That smarted a bit," giving new meaning to understatement. Producing a feeble grin, she added, "If you can get me hot after that, you'll be even better than Arlene thinks you are."

"We can continue this when you feel better," Jeff said.

"Don't you even think about taking that thing out now. I want you to fuck me."

He flexed his dick a couple of times just to see what she would do. Ann sucked in her breath and her eyes got big. She bit him on the neck. "I feel like I have a log stuffed up me. Do me. I don't care how bad it hurts, I'm a woman now — just ... do ... me."

He moved his cock back an inch or so, then pushed it back against her womb, gently nudging her deep inside, while he continued to kiss her cheeks, eyes and neck. Remembering the spot above her collarbone, he kissed his way there. Licking, kissing and sucking the area while occasionally moving his dick, eventually brought a tentative response from her hips, and a slight lessening to the viselike tightness of her channel.

After a couple of minutes, he kissed his way down to her left nipple, twisting himself around a little until he could take it between his lips. He lipped it a little, sucked it hard, then stripped it gently with his teeth. Astonishing him, and maybe her, she came. It wasn't an earth shaking orgasm, but she definitely made it. He felt her pussy spasm, but not very hard.

When she was back, he pulled out a little farther, then pushed to her cervix. She froze the first time, obviously hurting. He waited, then did it again, pausing. A few minutes later, he was beginning to establish a rhythm, although a short one, and she was rocking her hips a little. He concentrated on her right nipple, trying to build her to a better orgasm. He must have managed, because she grabbed his head, held him to her breast, wiggled her hips and came. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, making it impossible for him to move. Her mouth was only inches from his ear when the orgasm hit. Yep, that was a real one. And she's definitely verbal, he thought, as his ear rang from being screamed into. Her body shuddered and her pussy spasmed a couple of times, before clamping back down on his abused dick.

If Diana gets hot thinking about what's going on and wants to fuck my brains out tomorrow night, I'm liable to be in real trouble. I wonder if anyone has ever had to wear his dick in a sling.

When she released his penis enough for him to move, he pulled all the way back and slid it home while her orgasm was still going on. She made a gurgling noise deep in her throat. He didn't know what she had tried to say, but she had communicated, nonetheless. He pulled back and did it again, then again. Instead of her orgasm tapering off, it built. She arched her back, raising her ass off the bed, her pussy spasming. He let the cock massage she was giving him carry him along. He knew better than to fuck her for a long time as tight as she was. They wouldn't be able to do it again if he got her too sore. As she screamed and convulsed, he pushed hard against her cervix, said, "Here it comes, Sweetheart." He short stroked her a couple of times, then shoved harder into her cervix as his seed erupted.

There was no question that she could feel him come in her. Her eyes popped opened wide, she grunted, mewed, and orgasmed yet again, screaming, "Yesssss," in his ear. He stared down at the beautiful woman beneath him as his hips thrust forward and his dick pulsed with another spurt, then a torrent of come erupted that filled her and exhausted him.

He tried to keep his weight off her as his dick jerked and sent the last few dribbles into her womb. He had put so much come inside her impossibly tight pussy that he could feel the stuff himself. After a time, she pulled his mouth to hers, and between gasps, kissed him as best she could. "Thank you, thank you," she whispered over and over again.

He could hardly believe this girl was thanking him. It should be the other way around. After all, it was him that got to shoot his load inside this beautiful virgin. "Thank, you," he insisted, trying desperately to think of something better to say. He started to pull out, but she pulled hard against him. "No, not yet. I never want it to be over."

He kept his softening dick in her slick tube, hoping his limbering cock would stay for a while. After a few minutes, the sweat on their bodies and the cool air from the air conditioning made her cough. Her tight pussy spit his dick out, accompanied by a flood of semen that ran down the crack of her butt, pooling on the sheet. They both laughed in unison.

As he rolled off, she looked down and said, "That feels odd, but I could get to like it, knowing it's your sperm that's running out of me. But I feel empty inside now. I liked that stuffed feeling when your thing was inside me."

"When my dick was inside you?" he said with a grin.

"Yeah, when your dick was inside me," she said with a smirk on her face. "I'm a woman now. I've been fucked."

"Fucked, or made love to. I did whatever it was with love."

"Me, too," she said, rolling over on her side and kissing his cheek. Grabbing him, she hugged him as tight as she could. Tears started again. "Why did I have to fall in love with a married man? I don't want this to end. The time will be gone before I know it. I just want to hold you, and be held by you, forever."

Jeff didn't really know what to tell her, so he said. "Remember we still have the most of our twenty-four hours left, and Diana told us both that this wasn't only going to happen once. Things will work out."

"But I live so far away. We only have another week before I have to go home. Then I don't know when I will ever see you again, let alone be able to make love." By now, the tears were pouring in earnest.

Not knowing what else to do, he held her tight and let her cry it out. Letting him go a few minutes later, she started to apologize for her outburst. "I'm sorry; that was stupid of me. I'm acting like a little girl."

He kissed her and nibbled at her ear, causing a tiny giggle and an arch to her neck. "You're no little girl. You're a beautiful young woman now. Remember?" He grinned at her. "I'll be back in a minute. Just sit tight."

With a warm washcloth and a towel a couple of minutes later, he gently cleaned the blood streaked semen from her, then took a towel, and another damp washcloth to mop up a frightening amount of blood on the sheet. As she moved over, he placed another towel on the bed to cover the wet area. He leaned down and kissed the top of her pussy, gently licking around, but not touching, her clit. She's going to be hurting in the morning — probably already is, big time.

A few minutes later, they were relaxing in each other's arms, talking about inconsequential things, when they heard a double tap on the suite door. They looked at each other for a second before they both got up to look. As they left the bedroom, they noticed the tray on the floor just inside the sitting room door.

"Are we being treated like royalty, or what?" Ann said, her mood soaring once again.

Jeff grinned. I have the best wife in the world. Even if she did come like a freight train for Jack. It's time I got over that,  he mused. She passed out repeatedly when I fucked her after we got things straightened out. Mentally shrugging, he turned to Ann, who had put the tray on the table.

"What have we got?" he asked.

"Sandwich makings, snacks, leftovers from dinner. If you'll get us something to drink from the refrigerator, I'll serve. I don't want any more wine. I don't want to get drunk and maybe not remember this," she said.

As she put out plates and silverware, Jeff watched her firm boobs bob and jiggle. If she were any the worse for wear, she didn't show it. He selected a couple of soft drinks from the refrigerator, picked up glasses, added ice and put everything on the table. He could hardly take his eyes off her as he did so. Damn, she's beautiful.

Catching him looking, she laughed at him with her eyes. "I'm starved. Aren't you?" she asked. "Does sex always make you this hungry?"

He couldn't resist. "Sure. Haven't you noticed all those fat married women?"

"And men," she added, sticking her tongue out at him.

They fixed a sandwich from the leftovers. Ann wolfed hers down before Jeff was halfway through. She poured herself more to drink and offered him some.

Grinning at her, "No thanks, I'm fine with what I have here," he said, watching her down the glass. "All that coming must have dehydrated you, though."

She popped him on the shoulder, then looked odd for an instant. Putting her hand between her legs, she blushed and stood up. "I'll be back in a minute." As she left for the bathroom, she glanced back at him. "With all the come you put in me, it seems like you would be the one that's dehydrated." She giggled and took off for the bathroom, still holding her hand over her pussy.

Watching her sexy ass as she left made Jeff's cock stir. A couple of minutes later, he heard the shower start. "Oh, no you don't," he said, laughing as he started for the bathroom. "You can't do that by yourself tonight."

As he entered the bathroom, she jerked the shower door closed just before he reached it. She held it for a second when he pulled, but then released it, and as he opened the door and stepped inside, she swarmed him. Wrapping her arms around him, and pressing her breasts to his chest, she sighed, "I'm so happy. This is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me."

Jeff pushed her back a little and looked down at her green eyes, sparkling with tears of joy, he hoped. Her breasts were standing straight out and her nipples were fully erect. Teasing, he cupped his hand over her pussy and dragged his middle finger through the lips. Bringing his finger to his nose, he made a sound of mock displeasure, and said, "Wow, that stinks."

Before she could react, he goosed her in the side. She squealed, grabbed his hand and said, "It does not. You spent a lot of time down there licking me, and you didn't seem to dislike the smell then. What's the matter? Don't you like the smell of your own come?" she asked, teasing him back.

Before he could think of a comeback, she pushed her own finger into her pussy, and brought the finger to her mouth. "It tastes sexy to me," she said, as she pulled the finger out of her mouth, knowing that he was staring at her lips. "Want me to suck that big ol' cock of yours that Arlene brags about all the time?"

Instead of answering, Jeff kissed her. At first tenderly, then with increasing passion.

Breaking the kiss, she trailed kisses down his chest, across his stomach, and without hesitation, latched her lips around the head of his cock. She sucked so hard it hurt, then slacked off a little and started moving her mouth. Kneeling in front of him, the water pouring off them, she wrapped both hands around his cock, stroking it in time with the movements of her mouth. He knew that she wanted to suck him off. He willed himself to come, not wanting her to wear herself out, and maybe get turned off. He liked a blowjob to last, but this was not the time. Jeff looked down at her, watched her breasts jiggle and sway as she sucked and stroked him. She looked up and caught his eye, staring at him as she sucked hard, hollowing her cheeks, green eyes sparkling.

"I'm going to..." he managed, before his dick heaved and pulsed, sending a strong stream of semen into her mouth. She choked, swallowed, then sucked really hard. Jeff's vision grayed out as his cock pulsed again. "Ah, shit..." he mumbled as his balls emptied in one long continuous stream. Ann swallowed, choked, swallowed, then shivered as a mini orgasm trembled through her pussy.

Jeff fumbled for something to hang onto as he slumped against the shower wall. Ann slowed her hands to a gentle stroking movement, then ran her tongue gently around the head looking for stray drops of come. Jeff's dick grew limber and Ann released it after a gentle kiss to its head.

Jeff mumbled something that sounded incoherent, even to himself, then wisely shut up until his brain got back into gear.

"I take it you liked that," she teased.

"Something along those lines," he stammered out. Realizing he sounded more like a frog croaking than anything else, he cleared his throat, and managed, "I thought you said you had never given a blowjob before."

Ann stood up, wrapped her arms around him, and put her head against his chest. "I never have, but I have fantasized doing it to you so many times. Plus, Arlene gave me detailed instructions, including just what she thought you liked best."

"Lady," he said raising her chin with the tips of his fingers so he could look into her eyes, "if that was your first time, I think I'll die for sure after you get some experience."

She blushed prettily as she hugged him.

After playing for a while in the shower, they dried each other off. He picked her up and started toward the bed. "I could really get into your carrying me around all the time," she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

Just to tease her, since she seemed to be getting really serious, he dropped her on the bed. She certainly did look sexy as she bounced with her titties jiggling. He started tickling her, then blew a raspberry on her navel. They faux wrestled a little while, but it led into titty sucking, as she sighed and pulled his head tighter against her. He made up for not honoring her beautiful breasts earlier. He licked, sucked and teased her nipples until she rhythmically rocked her ass. She held his head tighter and tighter until she hissed and came without his having touched her pussy. Finally leaving her wet nipples standing at attention, he slipped his mouth quickly down her body. After hooking his arms under her thighs and lifting her legs back enough to give him easy access to her pussy, he licked around her mound, drawing closer and closer to her center.

Groaning in frustration, she lifted her ass off the bed, trying to force her pussy against his mouth. I've got a surprise for you, Little One, he thought as he finally licked up her slit. As she sucked in her breath, and hissed out "Yesss," he slid his middle finger very slowly into her while continuing a slow upward lick with his tongue that only lightly crossed her clit at the top of the stroke. As his finger found the curve of the top of her pussy, he curled the digit back, then rubbed with increasing pressure across her G-spot.

The first caress of his finger brought another hiss, then a violent shiver as he concentrated on her clit and rubbed circles with the tip of his finger. Her legs stiffened, her muscles tensed, and she exploded into orgasm. This time, he continued the stimulus, even as she started down and became sensitive. As she tried to push his mouth away, he licked harder and increased the pressure with his finger. Her legs slammed shut on his head, her ass arched up, lifting high off the bed. Instead of the orgasm tapering off, it peaked again, and if the screaming was any sign, went higher than the first one. Her voice ran out before the orgasm (orgasms?) did. A few seconds later, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed back on the bed, completely limp.

Well, I guess she liked that,  he mused, proud of himself. I'll bet she tells Arlene about that one.

Her breathing was good, so he got up and turned the light off, then sliding in beside her, took her in his arms, and snuggled her head on his shoulder. After covering them with the sheet, he pulled her tight against him, got a handful of teenage titty, and was asleep in seconds.

-------

He awoke with the taste of toothpaste in his mouth, to find Ann kneeling across his chest and a toothbrush against his lips. "Your breath smells like stale pussy," she said with a grin, shoving the toothbrush into his mouth.

"And what does your breath smell like?" he mumbled around the toothbrush, teasing her.

"Like peppermint," she quipped. "I've already brushed my teeth, so I don't have come breath anymore."

Taking the toothbrush, he got up and went into the bathroom with her following. After brushing his teeth, he said, "Scat, Beautiful, I've got to pee."

"But I thought guys couldn't pee with a hard-on," she commented, motioning to his fully erect cock.

"Yeah, but when I stand and strain for awhile, it will go down enough for me to do it. Now take that pretty little ass of yours out of here so I can empty my bladder."

"Not a chance," she said, her eyes sparkling. "I want to hold your dick while you pee. I've always wanted to know what it felt like to hold a dick in my hands and watch the pee come out of it."

He just looked at her. "You are weird," he joked.

She grabbed his dick and pulling down, pointed it at the commode. "Look, Babe," he said, trying to be reasonable. "I can't pee with my dick hard and it isn't likely to go down with you holding it. More likely it will just get harder."

"Piss, darn it." Glancing up at him, she asked, "Have you ever had a girl hold your dick while you pissed?" As he shook his head she added, "Then I'm going to be your first, even if we have to stand here all day."

Realizing he had run head on into yet another hardheaded female, he closed his eyes and fought his mind into thinking about something other than her hand holding his dick. After what seemed like forever, his morning hard-on subsided and he was able to produce a stream. She guided his dick, aiming it around the bowl. He did not know whether to be embarrassed, or stimulated. Embarrassed eventually won out, and she got to see his cock fully flaccid.

She grinned up at him as he took over and shook the dew off his lily. "I liked that," she said, leaning up for a kiss while she stroked his cock back to full hardness. "Now let's see if I can get it to spurt something else up inside me." Leading him by his dick, she headed back for the bed.

A couple of minutes later, he kissed his way down to her pussy — and stopped. Her lips were swollen and obviously bruised. She really was little and even her pussy lips had taken a beating. She has to be messed up inside. If I stick my dick in her, all she is going to remember about her first time is how much it hurt the second time.

Looking up at her, he said, "Sweetheart, I don't think this is going to work this morning, you're..."

"Yeah, I know. I'm so sore inside that it hurts when I walk, and my stomach muscles are just as bad from coming so much. And don't you dare tickle me this morning. I couldn't stand to laugh hard. It would kill me."

Turning around and sliding down in the bed, she locked her lips around his cockhead. When she sucked hard, it hurt. I'm probably a long shot from being as sore as she is, but I sure couldn't stand much hard sucking. "Easy, Little One. You're not the only one with sore equipment this morning."

She pulled back and looked at the head of his cock. "I think there's almost a blister on the very tip, and it's discolored. I'll bet it is sore."

"See there," he teased, you about fucked me to death.

"It was me that got fucked unconscious," she said, sitting up.

His eyes could not help but follow the sway and bounce of her luscious breasts. "Well, we can kiss and make out while we watch TV," he teased.

"Or we could get up and go eat breakfast with everyone else," she said, practically. "Besides, this is too good not to share with everyone. Us being too sore to fuck any more," she tried to joke, but there were tears in her eyes.

"We've still got all day. It's only a little after eight. If you really do want to eat with the others, I'll bet Diana can come up with a way to take enough of the soreness away for us to at least have some oral sex later in the day. If all else fails, we can still spend the rest of the day together, then in a couple of days, take up where we left off, if you want."

"Do you really think Diana will let us?" she almost whispered.

"Diana doesn't do things halfway," Jeff said, taking her in his arms. "And if I know Diana, she has probably anticipated this. Shall we go see?"

"My dress is beautiful, but I really don't want to wear it for breakfast."

Finding his shorts and pants, and slipping them on, he answered, "I'll go find Diana and get her to bring you some casual clothes. It will only take me a minute," he finished as he pulled his tee-shirt over his head. As he started into the other room, he stopped and called over his shoulder. "You might want to come in here. I think our little problem is solved." Both had casual clothes draped across the couch.



-------

Chapter 15

When they left the suite a few minutes later, they saw Melissa at the far end of the hall. She seemed to do a double take, then turned and rushed around the corner, probably heading for the kitchen. A little later, when they walked through the door, she was already setting out two more plates.

Jeff pulled Ann tighter against him and they stopped just inside the kitchen. I know Ann is blushing. Damn, I thought I was too old to blush, but my face feels like it's on fire. Everyone was seated at the table as he locked eyes with his wife, then slow-winked at her. The instant grin on her face was a welcome sight.

"What's the matter you two?" Diana asked, the grin getting bigger. Looking at Jeff, she asked, "Getting too old to take care of one little female?"

"Well, I, uh..." he said, intelligently.

Ann looked at him, took pity, and came to his rescue. "No, he did his job alright. Might have even done it a little too well, I guess. I'm broken," she said. She had meant to tease and keep the mood light, but her voice cracked, and she had to fight to keep her lip from quivering. She shut up before she started crying.

Diana glared at her husband as she shot up from the table to come and take Ann's hand. Seeing the look, Ann said, "No, no, Mrs. Matthews, uh, Diana, Jeff was very gentle. It was me. I'm little, I guess, and I kinda of had a ... well, my hymen didn't give up very easily."

Ann's eyes were now brimming with unshed tears, and everybody had gathered around voicing sympathy and wanting to know what happened. Jeff just wanted to be somewhere else, but Ann suddenly turned around, grabbed him and buried her head in his chest. "I've waited for this forever, and you let me make love to your husband, and now I can't even do anything," she almost sobbed to Diana.

Realization dawned on Diana; that was what her husband was trying to mouth to her. Ann's time was not up, but she could not make love. No wonder the poor girl was so upset, she thought. "Ann, a lot of women are too sore to make love the morning after. That's no problem. In a couple of days you will be well, and you two can take up where you left off. I'm not going to hold you to this one day, silly. Remember what I told you before?"

Turning Ann gently away from Jeff, Diana continued. "Now let's get you in the hot tub. I have a couple of pain pills left over from when I broke my ankle. We'll give Laura a call just to make sure she doesn't have any objections to the medicine. In no time you will feel better."

In what seemed like only seconds, Jeff was left alone in the kitchen. A few minutes later, as he was checking out what was on the table, Arlene came back into the kitchen. "Darn it, Dad. I told you to make her walk funny, not break her."

Jeff started to say something in his defense, when he noticed the smirk on Arlene's face. "You know I was gentle with her, don't you?"

"Yeah, Dad. We know. But I just had to get a rise out of you. But what happened? Why is she so sore? I know Jack isn't as big as you, but I was only a little sore the next day. She kept saying she had an 'armor-plated hymen, ' or something like that. Was it really that hard to break?"

"Honey, I don't know that we should be discussing this without Ann. It should be up to her to tell, or not tell, what happened."

"Dad. She is telling. Mom just sent me back in here to fix your breakfast, and I didn't get to hear all of it. We all helped in this. Remember? Now, what happened to Ann?"

Melissa rushed in, grabbed a plate, two cinnamon rolls, and a glass of milk. "Ann is hungry," she said, as she rushed back out.

Shrugging, Jeff said, "Nothing happened, Sweetheart. Her hymen must have been thicker than most. She probably should have had it clipped by a doctor. But she only has one more week out here. When she couldn't break her cherry sitting on me, she had me get on top and insisted that I just ram on through it. Damn, saying it makes me sound like I'm some kind of monster. I knew it was going to hurt her, but she was becoming very upset. Shit. I have had exactly two women in my life before Ann. I'm no authority on hymen removal. I tried my best not to hurt her," he finished lamely.

Hugging her father, Arlene smiled up at him and said, "I think if she didn't have her going-home-time hanging over her, she would have just said she was too sore to do anything for a day or two, and that would have been it. One of the girls at school said she couldn't use the bathroom for three days without hurting. But she didn't seem to be too upset about it. Ann is just so much in love with you that she wants to make love as much as she can before she has to go home. Mom will take care of her."

Jeff took down a cup and poured himself coffee. Sitting at the table, he continued, "She didn't seem too upset until we came in here, then everyone seemed so startled to see us. I guess it just got to her. Hell, I don't know what to do. I feel like I have screwed up somewhere, but I did my dead level best to make love to her the best I knew how. And I was gentle, I swear I was."

Arlene cracked four eggs into a bowl to scramble them. "You're making that mountain out of the mole hill you used to tease me about." Grinning at him, her eyes twinkling as she stirred the eggs and poured them into the skillet, she added, "Her pussy is sore. Well, maybe a lot sore, but she will be fine in a couple of days. Then you can fuck her brains out and send her home with a pussy full of come to remind her that she made love with her man."

"I hope you're right. Seeing her so upset isn't what I expected this morning to be like."

Arlene finished his breakfast and set it in front of Jeff. After he ate and had a second cup of coffee, he said, "I think I'll go check on Ann."

"Oh, no you don't. Mom told me to keep you in here. Ann will be embarrassed if you show up. Right now they will be laughing and joking about it, but you will get Ann upset again if you go in there. Trust me on this," she finished, shushing him with her fingertips on his mouth, then kissing him. "Ann isn't the only one who loves you."

They walked to the living room where Arlene pushed him into a chair, then sat on his lap and snuggled against his chest. "Mom and I are very proud of you, you know."

I do not, repeat not, understand women. Mentally shrugging, Jeff just shut up and kissed her. They were about to drift off to sleep when Diana found them.

Leaning over to kiss her husband, she said, "We soaked her in the hot tub, then used an applicator of cream that should help the swelling. Laura wasn't at work, and she didn't answer her cell or home phone, either, so I gave Ann half of one of my pain tablets, anyway. It knocked her on her ass. She's sound asleep on our bed."

"Baby, I really did try to be gentle with her. I..."

"Oh, shut up, you big lug. We all know that. And we know what the real matter is. She's so much in love with you, and she hates leaving so much. But I'm going to work on that. Now, I want to hear your version of this 'armor-plated hymen' Ann keeps grousing about."

"It really was," Jeff started. "I've got a blister on the head of my dick..."

"You've got a what?" Diana laughed. "I've got to see this," she said, unbuckling Jeff's belt and pulling his jeans down just as Melissa and Jennie walked in the door. Jeff grabbed at his pants, but it was too late. Diana already had his dick in her hands and was inspecting the head when the girls realized what was going on, and gasped.

By then, Diana was laughing as she showed Arlene the bruised head. Jeff could feel his face tingling, but the sight of the braless titties jiggling as Melissa and Jennie also tried to see his dick, was too much for him. In five seconds, he had a raging hard-on.

"Oh, shit," Melissa said as she eyed his cock.

"Yeah," Jennie said in a whisper.

Jeff was trying to pull his pants and shorts up, but Diana gave the head of his dick a long kiss before allowing him to get his pants back on.

Diana and Arlene were laughing, but Melissa and Jennie just stared at his crotch, and then glancing at each other, grinned also.

"Ah, crap," Jeff sighed, as he picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

-------

Shaking Jeff awake from his impromptu nap in front of the TV, Diana said, "I just got off the phone with Laura." At his vague look, she continued, "Come on Jeff, wake up."

Realizing something was wrong, Jeff sat up in the recliner. Finally, understanding having filtered through his sleep-fogged brain a little, he said, "Okay, I'm back. What's wrong?"

Seeing the look on Jeff's face, Diana realized that he had jumped to the wrong conclusions. Understandable, since she had shaken him awake implying that something was wrong, and indeed there was. "Nothing is wrong with any of us. I just had a long conversation with Laura, and you and I, and I guess Arlene, need to have a family conference."

Jeff's foggy mind finally got it together and remembered that Laura was the leggy brunette with the nice boobs that was Ann's mother, and Diana's best friend. Nice titties run in that family, too.

"She answered her home phone right after you crashed. We've been talking ever since. She's really down Jeff, and she has a right to be. Those assholes that bought out her company fired her as well as every other supervisor in the company. She said they let everyone go that had been with the company for ten years or more, as well.

"Oh, Jeff, she has fought hard for so long to have something, and now that she finally has her head above water for the first time in her life, they fired her. She had already been putting out job feelers since the rumors of the buyout started a couple of weeks ago, but everyone she contacted is downsizing. She is thinking of taking a job in Florida for less than half the salary she has been making, but she isn't even certain that the job is going to come open anytime soon. We have to figure out something to do for her, and I think I have an idea: you need an assistant."

"I what? What do I need an assistant for? I'm not even working. I've got all the pussy I can take care of," he laughed, but he quickly noticed that remark did not go over well. "Seriously, Diana, what could I possibly do with an assistant?"

"I'm not talking about more pussy for you. But I am serious about an assistant. Oh, let me get Arlene, I don't want to have to say all this over again, and she needs to be part of this. She's not a child any longer, and I don't want to make major decisions about our lives without her taking part. I'll be back in a minute."

Jeff started to protest, but Diana was already on the way out of the room. An assistant. What in the hell do I need with an assistant?

A few minutes later, Arlene came in and summoned him to the kitchen. "What's going on?" she asked, her eyes round. "Mom told Jennie and Melissa to check on Ann every few minutes, and to stay out of the kitchen, that we were having a family conference. I'm not in trouble, am I Dad? I swear I didn't do anything."

"No Punkin, you're not in trouble. Just hang on a second. She will tell you what her idea is."

As Jeff and Arlene entered the kitchen, Diana was pouring coffee for them at the small table. As they sat, Diana plopped the grocery pad and pen down, and took a sip of coffee while looking at Arlene. "Do you think you could stand Ann being with us on a permanent basis?" she asked.

Before Arlene could answer, Diana continued, "I need to fill you in on a phone conversation I had with Laura. Then I'll give you my idea of a possible solution. But it will affect all of us, and we need to think about all the consequences."

Repeating what she had told Jeff for Arlene, Diana then drew a line down a page and labeled one column with "PRO" and the other with "CON." Looking at Jeff, she said, "I think my husband needs an assistant. He does not think so, yet." As Jeff started to protest, Diana shushed him. "My husband," she said, looking Jeff in the eye, "is the best thing that has ever happened to me. But, between the military, college, and his making us rich, he was gone so much that I almost got talked into taking a lover." As Jeff frowned, and sat up straighter, she continued, "Not Jack. Oh, it didn't happen. I never even kissed this person, but the point is that you and I were drifting apart."

"But, Diana," Jeff managed before she shushed him, again.

"Just bear with me, Sweetheart. Hopefully this will make more sense to you in a minute. You have been a fine husband. No, a wonderful husband, and you were faithful to me, though I wasn't to you."

Jeff tried to intervene, but she continued, "You were gone far more than you were at home for most of our married life, and to me that is most of my life, and all my adult life. Now we have more money than we will ever spend unless we get into buying yachts and such, like you said before, and I don't think there is any danger of that. But I know you. You have worked your whole life, and you will soon get bored, probably already have, and will start developing your next adaptation of your radar.

"You're building a lab in the basement; the contractor has already started delivering materials. Granted you won't have to go all over to use other labs to develop this piecemeal like you did your last invention, but it is still going to be an awful lot of work. And I just paraphrased what you told me a couple of nights ago.

"You also told me that you got a call from Wainwright while we were out shopping, and you might have to fly back to Saint Louis for a few days of consultations with their R and D department." As, Jeff started to say something, she again, continued, "I know. I know. We knew this was going to happen. And they are going to pay you well for the trips you will have to make. But if you had been able to have an assistant from the beginning, you could probably have sent them, instead. Before, you couldn't have an assistant, or a decent lab, or much of anything else, for that matter. You didn't have the money. Now we do. And you are starting a new project, or soon will. Now is the time to hire that assistant so that she will be in on this from the ground floor."

"She?" Jeff managed, with a grin. "Look, Diana, your intentions are good, but Laura is a programmer, and I'm an electrical engineer. And I minored in physics — actually I wound up with almost enough physics courses for a BS. What do you..."

Diana cut him off. "Jeff, don't you get pompous with me. You have known Laura as long as I have. We have gone to just about every birthday party Ann had, and they came to Arlene's. The girls have spent the night at each other's houses more times than I can remember. I have kept Ann so many times while Laura went to class or worked, or both, that Ann almost seems like my daughter.

"For the last couple of years, the girls have practically lived together. You haven't been around Laura nearly as much as I have, since you were gone so much, but you do know she is as smart as they come — a near-genius at least. She is, or was, in charge of a big IT department, and she got the job by being the best they had to pick from. She didn't get it by lying on her back with her heels pointed at the ceiling. She is probably a better programmer than you are. She, at least, has more experience."

Diana's face was getting red. Arlene had slid down in her chair, and was slowly turning her cup round and round. It was obvious she was not about to get into this conversation.

"Honey, I didn't mean to come across that way. There will be a lot of programming to do, but any assistant that would be of any real use to me would have to be an engineer. I..."

"Jeff, send her to school, or teach her yourself — on the job training and all that. What's the rush? She is the best friend I have ever had. She sounded really down on the phone. Down so much she scares me. She has had to fight all her life. I had you. She didn't have anybody. Now when she can finally start paying her bills off, and give her daughter a decent life, she gets kicked in the teeth by some conglomerate that will probably suck all the money out of the company, while the CEO and his moneygrubbing buddies will make off with millions, and then close the company — or sell it yet again."

Diana suddenly stopped. She picked up her coffee, but had to hold the cup with both hands to still enough of the trembling to drink.

With shaky writing, Diana listed, "My husband home more" on the pro side of the sheet. She also listed, "My friend will have a job" on the next line, with a glare at her husband. "I feel strongly about this," Diana commented.

No, shit, Jeff thought, but he didn't have balls enough to say it aloud.

Diana took another sip of barely warm coffee with a steadier hand, not even noticing that the coffee was no longer hot. "Ann is in love with you," she said to her husband. "Arlene and I can understand that," she continued, glancing at her daughter, who grinned at her. "We happen to be in love with you, too. A few weeks ago, I would not have even considered setting you and Ann up for her first time. But our lives have changed. We have changed. Even though I instigated it, I was extremely jealous of you making love to Arlene, or fucking her. Whatever you want to call it. But I had my choice, lose my husband, or come up with something to get his mind off leaving me. Now, I only feel love when you and Arlene are together — at least, most of the time."

She took a sip of coffee, then looked Jeff in the eye again. "It just seems right. When I thought about what I almost lost, what we almost lost, I just couldn't think about Ann not being able to make love to you, with you. Next, I saw her today when she became so upset because she didn't — couldn't — make love to you for the complete day I gave her. Then I thought about her having to go back home to whatever this would have turned out to be, and without you. Then when I talked to Laura, and heard the dejection and sorrow in her voice because she thought she had let her daughter down, I just couldn't take it."

Jeff glanced at Arlene to see a single tear slowly slide down her cheek. She caught his eye and said, "Dad, there are five full apartments here that I've found, maybe more. I guess they were designed for staff, or some such, but Mrs. Kinsley and Ann could live in one of them, and we would hardly know they were in the building. There is an entrance on that other end, too. Ann is my best friend. As much as we've been together, from little kids on, we have never even had a fight. We could go to school together, and if Mom is willing, you could make love to Ann every now and then. She would be so happy."

"So you vote, yes, for us hiring Laura to be my assistant, then, huh?"

"You know I do, Dad."

Jeff still didn't think Laura would be much real use to him, but he spun Diana's pad around, took the pen from her, and wrote "HIRED" across the sheet. "Now, can I have some more coffee?" he asked, with a grin.

That got him a teary kiss from Diana, and a titty to suck from Arlene. As he relaxed, Diana said, "Now you have to call her."

"Me? You talked to her before. You call and tell her."

"She's going to be working for you," Diana said, "and I know Laura. She won't take the job if she even thinks it might be charity. You have to convince her you really need her, and you had better mean it. I don't want this to be charity. I meant everything I said. She will be the best assistant you could ever hope for, and she will be loyal.

"Also, you won't have to worry about her stealing your ideas. Come to think of it, maybe we need to start our own company, or corporation, like the accountant said. Write out a contract, so she can't steal your ideas and inventions, so that worry never has to come up. Give her a salary, and maybe some part of the proceeds for incentive. You iron it out with her, but if you don't treat it like a business proposition, she will think it is charity and she'll nix the whole thing."

"So, if she turns me down, it's my fault," Jeff said, half seriously.

"Yes," both women said in unison — dead serious.

Diana handed Jeff the phone as their eyes met. "Call her."

Jeff tried one more time. "Diana, this will mean two more people living in our house from now on, even if they do live in one of the apartments at the other end. We can't send them home if we get tired of them being here. What are you going to do if you walk into the kitchen and find Ann sitting in my lap sticking a titty in my mouth like Arlene just did? You need to think about that. She is young and her hormones are raging, as they say. She may not be content to wait until you tell her that she can make out with me."

"Jeff, I'm not stupid. I have thought about that, and more. Like what if she wants to have your baby?"

Jeff's face blanched, and Diana grinned back at him. "Or she might outgrow her love for you, or get tired of being your third female, and decide to start dating. That might not be much fun for you after she has been around for a while. It is probably hard to not love someone that loves you as much as she seems to. It might be a real kick in the teeth to see her go out with a guy that you know is going to fuck her. Things will just have to develop at their own pace. And I'm not foolish enough to think that everything will be perfect. The three of us have had our bumps — recently, a really major one." Leaning past Arlene, she lightly kissed her husband. "If I didn't think this would work, I would never have suggested it, let alone pushed it. Call Laura, now, please! Right now. I'm scared to wait."

"The number is..." Arlene started.

"I'm not getting senile, yet. Although it will probably come on earlier with all the females that will be around me from now on. Right now, I do still remember the number, though."

"Ha. Ha," Diana said, sarcastically. "Dial the phone and quit stalling."

Laura answered before the phone finished its first ring. When she said hello, Jeff could tell her voice sounded odd. After the initial pleasantries, she said, "Jeff, I really appreciate your being Ann's first. I realize that a lot of guys would have fallen all over themselves to get a teen's cherry, but I know that you, on the other hand, were very reluctant. I just finished talking to Ann, the instant before you called. She gave you rave reviews, and said she was going to 'walk like a duck' for a week. I think that is the happiest I have ever heard my daughter. She said that Diana teased her about worrying that she wouldn't get to make love with you again. I told Ann that Diana has already asked if she could stay another week and that was obviously to let her have more time with you. Do not worry about her being sore, she will get over it."

"Glad to be of help Ma'am," Jeff said, with a leer in his voice.

"You always could make me laugh," she said, doing just that.

"You didn't sound so good when you answered the phone," Jeff stated.

"Yeah, I've called everyone I can think of, trying to get a job. I'm going in tomorrow and sign up with a couple of agencies. But I've already talked with them on the phone, and there just aren't any openings around. The market is flooded because of this takeover, and downsizing. I guess I was hoping someone would call and offer me a job."

"Well, someone did call to offer you a job," Jeff laughed.

"What? I don't understand. No one called."

"And since when am I 'no one?'"

"Jeff Matthews, quit messing with me. Don't tell me that you know where I can get a job. I'll start crying for sure."

"Well, you better get a tissue, because I damn sure know where you can find a job."

"Jeff, where?"

"Right here. I need an assistant. We need to talk in person about this, and you need to see what is going on. We can't do this over the phone, or in just a few minutes. So, we need a conference. If the plane is free, I'll send it for you tomorrow."

"The plane?"

"Yeah," Jeff grinned, getting into it now. "Pack heavy, expect to stay awhile. You won't have fifty people to supervise, or have the prestige that you had with your old job, but I need someone that is sharp. And I also need someone I can trust."

Laura didn't say anything for a moment, then, "Are you talking about the jet that picked up the girls?"

"Yeah. And it has plenty of room for all the luggage you want to bring."

"Jeff, this sounds like you just made up a job for me. I won't take charity from anyone. I pay my own way through this world. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that Laura. And this isn't going to be an easy ride, the job that is, not the plane ride," he said, laughing. "I wouldn't insult you that way. Now start packing. I'll call you back with the schedule as soon as I talk with the pilot."

Jeff handed the phone to Diana while Laura was still sputtering. As his wife started talking to his new employee, he picked up his cup to drink the last cold sip. To his amazement, he was trembling.

Before he could set the cup down, Arlene slammed into him, almost causing him to spill what was left of the coffee, but she had noticed his hand shaking. "Boy, you really got into that, Dad," she said, laughing and crying at the same time, hugging him.

Leaning back so he could see her face, he said, "I guess, I did, at that, Punkin. About halfway through our conversation, I realized that I was very enthused about having an assistant. And things just kept popping into my head that I could have her do. She can be the one to find and get a lot of the things I need for the lab. She can make arrangements for picking the delicate stuff up that can't be shipped safely. All the incidentals that take up so much time, and had me working twenty hours a day, before. Crap, I can think of a dozen things she can do, even before we get much past the theory stage." His voice trailed off as he contemplated his new project.

Diana was at the other end of the kitchen talking with Laura, pacing back and forth. "Get off that phone," he joked, untangling himself from Arlene. "I need to make arrangements to get the plane out to pick up my new assistant."



-------

Chapter 16

They took both vehicles and the whole crew to meet the plane. As soon as it taxied to a stop, Jeff and Diana moved the cars as close as they could. Laura had told them she was bringing her computer, all her software, and enough clothes and personal items to stay for a while. She had told Diana that she and Jeff hadn't even talked about salary, but she knew he wouldn't cheat her. She joked that job offers certainly were not piling up, anyway.

As the copilot put down the stairs, Laura appeared in the doorway. With short, very red hair, and matching redhead's complexion, including freckles across her nose, larger, rounder breasts than Diana's, she was a stunning woman as she hesitated for a second, looking from her daughter, to Jeff, to Diana. Her daughter got the first hug, though. Jeff distinctly heard Ann tell her mother, "I'm a woman now, Mama."

The captain had just come down the stairs and was in the midst of giving his usual half-salute to Jeff when he suddenly came to attention and performed a textbook salute, instead. Reflexively, Jeff returned it.

"Cut that crap out," Jeff said laughing. "Neither of us are military anymore, and even if we were, I'm not in uniform."

Instead of laughing at what Jeff thought of as a little joke between them, Madison only smiled a little, Jeff noted.

"Mr. Matthews, if you have a moment after we take care of the baggage, I really need to speak to you in private."

Jeff wondered what was up, wondering if Captain Madison had heard what Ann told her mother. If he did, it was unmistakable what she had meant. She's of age. Eat your heart out. Shrugging, Jeff said, "Sure, be glad to."

The copilot had already opened the baggage compartment, and the flight attendant was bringing stuff out of the passenger compartment. The pilot's comment that Mr. Wainwright would have his ass if Jeff were allowed to carry his own luggage, went by the wayside this trip. The girls, Diana and Laura were already loading the vehicles before the flight crew could object. Jeff looked at the process and grinned. After just one turn at moving Ann's belongings from the plane to the vehicle, Jeff motioned to Madison, "I don't think we're needed right now. Why don't we step aside for a moment?"

As the men walked a few feet away, Captain Madison turned to Jeff. "Mr. Matthews, I hope I'm not in trouble, but I did something. Without any meaning to pry into your business, I assure you..."

Seeing that the man was obviously stressed, Jeff broke in. "Okay, what's happened? I'm not the kind of guy who flies off the handle at every little thing. So, just spit it out. You're obviously uptight about this."

Taking a breath, Madison said, "I heard around the company that you were an ex-military man, and you had been on some bad-ass missions. All hush-hush stuff. So, like the idiot I am, I asked a buddy who is still in the service to check around some. Shit, Sir, I swear I was just curious because I like you. Some of the people we fly around treat us like servants, or worse, and you and your family have always treated us like equals, and with respect. Well, my buddy must have checked — apparently too much. I haven't heard from him, but when I got home after my flight, there were two guys waiting for me. They had military IDs that showed their rank as a major and a colonel. They were not pleased. They read me laws about official secrets, the result of violating those laws, and gave me a very thorough questioning — hell, almost an interrogation. They scared the shit out of my wife, and, believe me, she wasn't the only one. I want to apologize. I swear I didn't mean anything by it. If this gets back to Mr. Wainwright, I'm liable to get fired."

Jeff looked Madison over for a moment without saying anything. A part of Jeff was pissed that Madison would try to check on him, but he could understand the temptation, especially a just-ask-around type of thing. Jeff cleared his throat, "They haven't been in contact with me, and you're not in jail," he said with a grin that Madison didn't reflect, "so I think we can assume that they believed that you were not trying to get into any military secrets. If they say anything to Mr. Wainwright, let me know and I'll take care of it."

The captain stuck his hand out and they shook. "Thank you, Mr. Matthews. I've learned my lesson. And once again, Sir, you and your family are a pleasure to serve."

Jeff assumed that Madison had just been curious, but he wasn't going to let it go without doing some checking of his own. He changed the subject. "The scenery certainly is nice around here," he said, looking pointedly at the women as they stood chatting with the copilot and flight attendant.

"Yes, Sir. Boulder is a nice city, and the mountains in the background are splendid."

"Bullshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Uh, Sir, I..." shrugging, Madison finished, "yes, Sir. They're all beautiful women. And very pleasant, besides."

On the spur of the moment, feeling a connection, somehow, with the Captain, Jeff asked, "Why don't you and your crew come up to the house for dinner. We have plenty of room. We will bring you back first thing in the morning so you can fly back tomorrow."

"You really mean that, don't you, Sir?"

"Sure I do. We would all enjoy having you."

"We have been up to the conference center, uh ... your home, before. And I would love to take a rain check on that invitation, but we have a flight early tomorrow."

"Okay," Jeff said, "but you're invited on the next trip. And there should be one soon. Laura is going to be my assistant, and will probably be flying out shortly to pick up some equipment for me, plus Diana and I will need to go back to Georgia to tie up some loose ends there before too long."

"We will be waiting for your call, then Sir. And if we don't have to hurry back, we'll be very pleased to take you up on your invitation."

"See you then," Jeff finished, turning back toward the vehicles.

The girls had gotten into the Escalade, but Diana and Laura were standing next to the Expedition waiting for him. Laura quickly came to Jeff and hugged him. "Thanks for the job, Boss," she said, smiling at the title.

Jeff grinned and hugged her back, extremely aware of the soft breasts crushed against his chest. "You are most welcome," he joked.

After Laura stepped back, Diana said, "I assumed that Laura would ride with you, since you probably need to talk."

"Yeah, I guess that's a good idea. We're going to stop in Winter Park for lunch, right?" Jeff asked Diana.

"Yes, that sounds good to me."

Turning to Laura, he explained. "It is sort of a tradition. We introduce everyone to this little restaurant on their first trip, if possible. Besides, we love to eat there, too. It's some of the best simple cooking on the planet." Straight faced, he asked, "Would you mind driving, Laura, I'm a bit sleepy for some reason."

Before Laura could answer, Diana interjected, "You do not want to drive, Laura. He's setting you up. Trust me. No one wants to drive the first trip — maybe not the tenth."

Laura looked inquisitively at the two of them — Jeff trying not to grin, and Diana's frowning face. Three hours later, she understood why, when with a death grip on the seat, she stared into the seemingly bottomless abyss alongside the switchbacks of the drive.

She did manage one quiet, but obviously very sincere, expletive. Jeff thought the comment was very creative.

As they pulled into the back of the house, Laura, eyes round, said, "You call this a house? And that a fucking driveway?"

"Well, I've heard the house called everything from a conference center to a retreat. We just call it home, now. It kinda grows on you. That's the reason I told you that there would be plenty of room for you and Ann. And you will get used to the driveway. Well, mostly used to it."

Laura grimaced, then said, "Right now, I doubt it about the driveway, but the house — oh, I know, Diana has told me about this place on the phone since right after you came out here. And Ann went on and on about it. But seeing it is altogether something else. I've seen motels, big motels that were smaller than this." Looking in the direction of the drive again, she continued, "And now that I've got my voice back, what are you going to do about that ... that... thing we just came up, when winter comes and it snows?"

"It doesn't wait for winter around here. We had a snow last week."

"What did you do?"

Jeff laughed, and opened his door to get out. Looking back at her, he said, "Hell, I sat and watched it snow. No way was I going to drive down before it got plowed out, or the snow melted."

Laura remained sitting in the vehicle for a moment, then got out and met him as he raised the hatch. "I've never even seen a real mountain before. The ones we have in Georgia are toad stools compared to this, as you know, since you lived there too," she said nodding toward the snow-covered peaks above them.

"Yeah," Jeff laughed, we have mountains here, "but I'll bet a lot of the people who live out here have never seen a beach before, let alone, the white sand ones we used to visit in Florida."

The crew piled out of the Escalade, pooh-poohed their help, and started the production of getting Laura's bags and other paraphernalia into the house.

"Jeff, I appreciate what you said in the car, and I'm certainly not going to turn down the money. But are you sure that you're comfortable meeting my salary from my old job, and letting me live here rent free? Like I said on the phone..."

"I know," Jeff teased, "No charity. But it doesn't cost me anything for you to live in one of the apartments. Even the power is mostly taken care of by the wind generators. I would be a total ass to charge you rent. Besides, I'll be getting the best of the deal as it is. You're going to work your butt off."

Laura picked up her computer, refusing to let anyone else touch it. Jeff managed to get the monitor before the girls did. "I've got computers," Jeff commented as they started inside. He paused as Melissa held the door open for them as they entered the house, then continued. "Besides, we're going to start a company, probably incorporate, and the company could buy whatever you need."

"Nope, my computer is just the way I want it. It is literally state of the art. Computers were my living, and I did a fair amount of work at home, just to stay ahead. We can update it as new, faster processors, and other peripherals come out, if you like. But there is no need to buy me a new computer. My laptop isn't the best in the world, but it will do."

Jeff made a mental note to take care of that little problem with the outdated laptop.

Looking around her, Laura asked, "How long are these hallways, anyway? It seems like we've been walking forever."

"We're here now," Jeff commented as Diana held the door to the apartment open for them.

As she walked down another hallway, Laura stopped and stared. "This is an apartment?"

"Well, Wainwright tends to do things in style," Jeff said, grinning.

"Oh, the furnishings are beautiful, at least what I've seen so far, but I'm talking about the size. This is bigger than my house."

"Yeah, there is that," Jeff said, not even trying to hide the grin. "I guess you tend to discount how big the retreat actually is after you live here for awhile. But let's put this stuff down in the den so you can look around for real."

A few minutes later, Laura, Ann and Arlene had gathered in Laura's kitchen. Laura opened a pack of vacuum-sealed coffee she had found. Jeff and the others had gone off somewhere. There was not any food in the kitchen, but apparently someone had left the coffee, knowing it would not spoil. Ann started filling the pot when Laura teasingly said, "You do walk a bit tentatively. Still pretty sore, Hon?"

Before Ann could answer, Arlene giggled and said, "Quack, quack."

Ann started to laugh, but grabbed her stomach, instead. "Stop that." she said in a tight voice, "You know my stomach hurts when I laugh. And I do not walk like a duck."

"I've heard it called a lot of things," Laura laughed, "but never a 'stomach.'"

"No, Mom, that is sore too, but it doesn't hurt there when I laugh. My stomach muscles are sore."

Finally finding a coffee measure in a drawer, Laura scooped coffee into the filter. "Why are your stomach muscles sore? How could Jeff have made them sore?" Laura asked, frowning.

Laura closed the filter door and Ann began pouring the water in. "He made me have so many orgasms, and I guess my stomach muscles knot up or something when I do. Actually, he fucked me unconscious," she blurted, spilling some of the water, her face turning crimson.

Arlene pulled a paper towel from the rack and wiped up the spill as Ann finished filling the reservoir. Looking at Laura, Arlene added, "I've fainted more times than I can remember. Dad kinda gets into making you come until you pass out."

Laura did not respond immediately, but looking thoughtful, took cups from the rack and put them on the table, then started searching for creamer and sweetener. "Diana has told me about what you guys are doing, but I'm having trouble hearing you talk about your father having sex with you, Arlene. Hearing it over the phone from your mom and hearing you talking about it in person is different. I'm not trying to be judgmental, I know that what Diana did to save her marriage brought this on, but it is still going to take a little getting used to."

Arlene beat her to the condiments and put them on the table while Ann put out spoons. "Ms. Kinsley, Jack had us so far under his thumb, that we were afraid to say no to anything he wanted. We were scared to death. But what Jack did to us really tore my dad up. Dad saved us, and I guess we saved the marriage. 'We, ' meaning all three of us. Dad told me to be cool around you, and to not offend you. Ann knows everything, and Mom told me that she told you, so I just blurted out something, that maybe I shouldn't have. Please don't be mad at my dad or mom. They are the greatest."

"He did it with his tongue," Ann said into the stillness.

Laura just stared at her daughter as she continued, "He had already fucked me. Then we ate and took a shower. Then he picked me up, carried me to the bed and fucked me with his tongue. I had about a jillion orgasms, each one building from the last. I must have fainted. I woke up the next morning in his arms."

Laura pulled out a chair and sat down. "I thought you told me everything on the phone," she teased. "Just how many orgasms did you have?"

"Oh, uh, about twenty, I guess, from his tongue that is, then they just blended into one that wouldn't stop. I had already had a bunch from his taking my cherry, and from his tongue, before."

"Tonight, we are going to have to talk. I want to hear everything about this. My first time certainly wasn't anything like that," Laura said, musingly. "I think I'm jealous," she grinned at her daughter. "My stomach has never been sore from having orgasms."

The kitchen door burst open and Jeff walked in followed by everyone else, all carrying sacks of food.

Diana put her two sacks on the counter, motioning for the others to do the same, and said, "We raided the freezer and pantry for enough to get you started. We'll leave it up to you and Ann to put things away; otherwise, you won't really know what you have. Make a list of things you want and we'll go into Boulder tomorrow, and give Wal-Mart a little business," she grinned.

Laura stood and started looking through the sacks as the others piled the counter full. "Good grief, Diana, did you leave anything in your kitchen? I'll pay you back for this when I get my severance check."

Diana hugged her. "You will not. Most of this, and a lot more, was already here when we moved in. They had stocked the pantry for conferences I guess, and the freezers have so much stuff that a lot of it will freezer burn before we can use it. They even special-wrapped the meat, but even so, it will never be used up quickly enough. You haven't cost us a thing," she added, catching a package of frozen vegetables as it slid out of one of the sacks and seemed destined to wind up on the floor. As she snatched at the errant package, she bumped the sack, causing several other frozen items to spill out. One package hit the floor, bounced and slid under the table, two more slid into the sink. By the time everything was retrieved and the sack upright again, everyone was laughing.

"Okay, gang," Jeff said, rounding up Jennie and Melissa, who had started exploring the apartment. "Let's get out of here and let Laura and Ann get settled in."

As Diana started out the door with her husband, Laura called to her. "Diana, could you stay awhile. I would like your input on something."

"Sure, see you later," Diana said to the others as she started to help with the frozen food after all.

When everyone was gone, Laura turned to Diana. "I can't go grocery shopping tomorrow; those assholes didn't give me my severance pay when they let us go. They are going to make everyone wait until Friday week. It should be a direct deposit, but even so, I've got over a week before I dare spend that kind of money."

Diana picked up a sack of food. "Let's get this stuff put away. Then we can sit and talk. That coffee smells heavenly. We'll have a cup of your first coffee in your new place and have some girl talk."

Laura looked at her and shrugged, "Girl talk or not, I'm not taking charity. There is plenty of food here, and whatever incidentals we need can just wait until my check is in the bank. I live on a budget, and I'm going to continue to do so."

After finishing with the food, Laura put out another cup, poured them coffee, and they took it into the den to relax. Diana sat on the couch, and kicking her shoes off, propped her feet on the coffee table. Taking a sip of coffee, she sighed and said, "Ah, my feet feel better already." She looked steadily at her daughter until she caught on.

Arlene looked at Ann. "I think we're getting a hint to go and look at your room, so the adults can talk."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Ann said, smiling. In a stage whisper, "They're probably going to talk about fucking or something equally as bad."

"Ann, there is no use deliberately trying to be crude," but Laura flubbed the admonition with the grin that she couldn't hide.

When the girls were gone, Diana asked, "I assume that you and Jeff had a talk on the way here?"

Laura sat on the couch and put her feet up as well. "Yeah, we talked just about all the way back."

Diana sat quietly for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then continued, "We have been best friends since our early teens..."

Laura interrupted, and said, "I know where you are going with this..."

"No, you don't, Laura. And just please shut up and let me talk for a little while. You are smarter than I am, and I'm no dummy. Jeff took an IQ test in school, as we all did, but he would never tell me what he scored. I do know that they called him into the office when the grades came out. I would be amazed if he didn't make the highest grade they had ever seen. But he is so laid back that he will never talk down to anyone. He aced college in two years instead of four, with near-perfect grades. The military snatched him up and had him doing things that I will probably never know about. He has an almost photographic memory, and I think you do, too. I am certainly not his intellectual equal, but it has never been hinted at in any conversation or interaction we have. He respects my ideas as if they are equal to his own. It just makes me love him more. I almost lost him by my being stupid and not telling my husband what was going on. I couldn't help it the first time Jack fucked me, but I should have told Jeff then."

"Hindsight is perfect, Diana. You did the best you could."

"Yeah, well, that's all well and good, but my actions marked my husband, and hurt him where no one else could. Having my daughter seduce him, saved my marriage, but it changed us. Mostly for the good, I think, but change us it did. But one of the things it did was make me see, I mean truly see what he means to me, and I think, what I mean to him as well. It's as if we are newlyweds; in a way, we are.

"When we were first married, with me pregnant, and the hell-raising we caught from our parents, we didn't really make love. Oh, we were kids, and we fucked, but not nearly as much as we would have, given different circumstances. Sex hurt me when I was carrying Arlene, no matter how gentle Jeff was, and I didn't have enough sense to suck my wonderful new husband off. I thought that blowjobs were gross. He's a few years older than me, and had started working an after-school job by the time he was sixteen, before he dated me.

"After we married, and when he could, he took college courses before he finished high school. I've seen him come to our room at Mom's house after work, night after night, only to study until the wee hours of the morning, sleep a few hours, just to have to get up the next morning for school, then work again after that. On and on. Then college was about the same thing, except I was working some, too. Trying to help. We didn't have a childhood, per se — never had a honeymoon.

"We had little time to ourselves when we were first married, then he continued to be gone all the time when he got out of college and went into the military. The military financed a large part of his college tuition, so he had to go on active duty as soon as he got out of school. Most of our married life, we have spent apart, or with him working or going to school. This is the first time we have ever really been together for any extended period of time. Our life started out badly, but lately, it's gotten to be marvelous."

"Di, I know all this. You know I do. I was there most of the time, except for the military years."

"I know you do, but I'm leading up to something. That wonderful man who worked his heart out for me, for a few minutes of sex in the back seat of a car, suddenly doesn't have to work twenty hours a day. He doesn't have to worry about finances any more. But other than your family helping you until they were killed in that car wreck, and that little bit of insurance money you got from their deaths, you have had to do almost everything on your own. You got some federal loans and a scholarship to college because you are smart, but your life changed you, hardened you, just like mine did me."

"We had nothing together, many times," Laura said, laughing.

"Exactly," Diana said, taking Laura's hand, "But now I have a ton of money. Put the shoe on the other foot. What if it were you that had just come into more money than you could spend in a lifetime, and I kept saying that I wouldn't take charity, tried to interpret everything you offered me as being some form of gift. How would you feel?"

"Look, Diana, I..."

"Keep track of it if you want. Call it an advance if you want. But we're transferring a substantial amount of money into your checking account, today. And I have already snuck one of your checks from your checkbook to get your account number and routing number, and if I know my husband, the transfer is already a done deal." As Laura's face turned red, Diana continued, "Look, don't even think about getting mad, you are going to make lots of money when Jeff puts this next invention on the market. It's not a maybe type of thing. He tells me it is an offshoot of his radar, and it is just a matter of putting 'things' together. He says he can do it in two years, maybe sooner. Plus he says he has another idea that will probably make more money than anything he has done so far.

"He told you that you were going to get ten percent of the royalties, and ten percent of whatever he sells his patent for?"

"Yeah, but..."

Diana squeezed Laura's hand, then let it go. "Think about ten percent of one hundred million, plus royalties, and shut up about the money we are transferring to your account."

Laura sighed, a trail of tears leaking down her face, "What does Jeff really think about all this?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Heck, other than the initial idea, everything was him. Arlene rode with Jeff to the airport, and she said that he babbled all the way about what you two were going to do. Don't you even think about calming him down. Just jump into it with him and get this thing started. But when he spends all his time in the lab, how about sending him back to me every now and then?" she asked, smiling. "Now that I've gotten used to him fucking my brains out, I don't want to have to drag him out of that lab to get laid."

The tears were coming for real now as they hugged each other.

-------

When Diana got back to their part of the house a few minutes later, she asked, grinning from ear to ear, if Jeff had gotten the transfer completed.

"Yeah," he said as Diana prattled on about having her friend in the house. "I put twenty thousand into the account."

Diana started laughing. "She'll shit. Oh, I can't wait until she checks her balance," his wife said, jumping into his lap. After she kissed him, she continued, "We're going shopping tomorrow." At Jeff's raised eyebrow, Diana said, "I know, you're thinking like a man, and a man would think that Laura wouldn't need anything after we brought all that stuff to her. But every woman needs to buy things for her kitchen, whether it is food or appliances, that will make the kitchen hers."

"Diana, how in the world can you buy anything for that kitchen? It has every appliance known to man."

Diana laughed. "You may be right there, but I'll bet she will find something, and she will need tons of spices, sauces, and other things like that, that I purposely didn't include in the stuff we gave her. She has to buy those things herself." Grinning, Diana slipped an arm around him, and pushed her breasts against his chest as she snuggled against her husband.

Jeff tweaked her nipple, and said, "I guess I have bad news for you, then. I just talked with Wainwright. They have hit a snag. The meeting has been moved up. I have to be there at one tomorrow afternoon. I guess the flight crew could have taken up my invitation, after all. I asked the captain to come up to the house, but he said he had an early flight in the morning. Wainwright said he had the flight rescheduled. The plane will pick me up in the morning."

"I didn't know that you invited them up, but I think it is a good idea. They're nice people."

"Yeah, I think so, too. It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I picked up a little information from Madison that I'll tell you about later. Anyway, it made me want to get to know him a little better, just in case, but he said they had a flight tomorrow and couldn't stay."

"What did he say that made you want to get to know him better? I don't have any objections, just curious."

Jeff sighed, and told her what Madison had done. Hurrying through his explanation, he said, "Now back to what I started to talk about to begin with. Laura has just gotten here, but she might as well get her feet wet. She doesn't know anything about what is going on, but I can brief her on the way to the airport and during the flight. She needs to go with me."

"Oh, Jeff, I think that's a wonderful idea. The sooner she gets involved, the better."

"Good. Then you're not going to be mad at me for putting my 'employee' to work so quickly?"

"I might even give you a blowjob because of it," Diana laughed, nuzzling his neck.

"I'm better," he laughed, "My dick isn't as sore as it was yesterday. But I don't think I could stand for it to be sucked. I never thought I would say anything like that," he mumbled, almost to himself.

"Poor baby," Diana laughed, squirming her ass on his groin. "Want me to bend over the chair and let you give me a load of come."

"Not on your life," Jeff said, glancing toward the door. "The last time you had my dick out in here, Melissa and Jennie walked in and caught us."

Standing up, she took his hand and pulled. "Then I guess we had better go to the bedroom," she said, matter-of-factly.

As they stepped out into the hallway, they met Jennie and Melissa. "We're going to visit with Ann and her mother," Jennie said.

"We're going to the bedroom to get my brains fucked out," Diana quipped back.

The girls looked stunned for a second, then giggling and blushing they went on by. "Diana, you shouldn't talk like that in front of those girls," Jeff reproved her.

"Those girls did, or were in on, all the planning for Ann's night with you. And they have been fucking their fathers for several years. They probably know more about sex than I did at twenty."

"Yeah, well, I know that, but..."

Diana unzipped his pants, reached into his shorts and hauled his dick out. The girls were not more than twenty feet away, albeit they were walking in the other direction. Jeff quickly looked over his shoulder while trying to get his dick away from Diana. She dropped to her knees and engulfed his cock with her warm mouth. As she ran her tongue around the head, she applied a little vacuum. Jeff hissed through his teeth as the sensation of pleasure/pain assaulted him, and his dick came to full attention.

Unknown to Jeff, Melissa had looked around, and realizing what was going on, grabbed Jennie's arm. Although Jeff's back was to them, it was obvious that Diana was sucking her husband's dick. Both girls looked for a moment, then clapping their hands over their mouths to keep from giggling aloud, ran on down the hall to tell Ann and Arlene. Diana knew they had seen. She popped her mouth off, and keeping Jeff's dick in her hand, stood up and steered him toward the bedroom.

It's amazing how compliant he is when I have my hand pulling on his dick, Diana thought. It's time he put that marvelous cock into his wife. I need to make this really good for him. I know he loves me, but he will compare my pussy to Ann's, since he just fucked her. I can't give him a cherry. And there is no way I could ever be as tight as she apparently is. But I think I'll be his slut tonight. That should get his attention off that sixteen-year-old's tight pussy.

Diana stripped her clothes off, then turned to help Jeff with his. He had already gotten rid of his shirt and shoes. He looks sexy with his dick sticking out of his pants, bobbing around,  she thought as she knelt in front of him and loosened his belt, her nipples already extended. "Master can just relax and watch his slut undress him," she said in the sexiest voice she could muster.

"I'm not into that 'Master' stuff," he mumbled as she slipped her mouth over the head of his cock.

Sure you're not, Jeff. Sure you're not,  she mused sarcastically as she gently sucked him and pulled his pants down around his ankles. She had to let go to get his shorts down and his feet cleared of his clothing, but it only took a couple of seconds before her mouth again surrounded his cock. If the episode with Jack served nothing else,  she thought, it sure taught me a few things about what men like. She gently scratched her nails along the bottom of his balls, watching them tighten up as she laved the underside of his cockhead with her tongue. With her tongue cupped around the underside of the head, she sucked like his cock was the sweetest tasting sucker she had ever had. In a way it is,  she thought. Sucking his cock used to be blasé at best. But after Jack made me suck him, and Jeff's aggressiveness, it makes me wet just thinking about sucking him.

A couple of minutes later, Diana had a small orgasm as she pushed her mouth farther down Jeff's cock. She shivered, trying to rub her nipples on Jeff's leg as the orgasm tapered off. She felt his cock beginning to swell, knowing that he was going to shoot off in her mouth in a few seconds. I want him to come in my mouth, but I want to be his slut, too, so I had better stop.

Pulling her mouth off with an audible plop — she knew he liked that — she smiled up at her husband. His eyes came back into focus as he realized he was not going to come in her mouth. A slight frown creased his forehead as he looked down at her. She kissed his dick and stood.

"Hang in there for just a second," she said, standing and going into the closet. Choosing a pair of black spikes, she quickly put them on. As she came back into the bedroom, she walked over to the table beside the bed and picked up a pack of cigarettes. Extracting one of the 120's, she held it saucily in her hand for a moment looking at her husband, then bent over the bed, facing the wall mirror.

"Why don't you blow that load up your slut's pussy?" she quietly asked.

"Hey, Hon, that cigarette thing was Jack's bit. It doesn't do much for me," Jeff said. But he lined his cock up with his wife's pussy and mounted her.

As the thick cock pushed her pussy lips open, Diana clamped down as tightly as she could. She had vowed several days ago that she would practice her Kegel exercises hourly until she could squeeze Jeff's cock tight enough to keep him from moving inside her. She had heard it was possible, but she didn't know if she would ever be able to do it. I know that Arlene is tighter than I am, and it's for sure that Ann is. Jeff says I don't look older than twenty-one. My tits look good, and my pussy is going to be as tight as theirs, if I can possibly make it that way,  she said to herself as she squeezed harder.

Jeff grunted as she squeezed. He reached under and grabbed her swaying breasts. Liking the way they felt in his hands, he held on and pushed his cock all the way to her cervix. When he felt his still-sore cockhead bump against her womb, he wished he hadn't shoved quite so hard. Diana gasped and pushed back, squeezing harder. He couldn't help it, sore or not, he pulled back about halfway and rammed in again, his balls slapping against her ass.

Diana made a mewing sound the third time he rammed in, then when he stripped her nipples with his hands, she violently came. Oh, shit. It's been too long since I felt him in me,  she thought as he set up a rhythm. "Fuck me hard, dammit," she hissed as he stripped her nipples again.

Jeff drew back and rammed in as hard as he could, almost lifting her feet off the floor, and causing his balls to slap painfully against her ass. Diana pushed back at him, dropping her belly and raising her pussy as high as she possibly could. "Pump a load into me. Don't make it last. Just pump my womb full. I want you to come in me like you're going to knock me up."

Jeff released her breasts so he could see them bounce in the mirror. As their eyes met in the reflection, Diana carefully placed the long cigarette in her mouth the way Jack had taught her. I felt your dick jump in me when you saw that. You say you don't care anything about it, but I think your dick just gave you away. Pulling on the cigarette, she hollowed her cheeks as Jeff groaned and shortened his strokes. A few seconds later, he rammed into her, forgetting all about his sore cock. Short-stroking her, he groaned, grabbed her hips and machine-gunned his dick into her clenching pussy.

Jeff could see Diana's bouncing breasts and beautiful face in the mirror. She pulled on the cigarette again. He shivered, shoved against her womb, and sprayed his first geyser of come. He had the head of his dick lined up just right with her cervix, and the stream spewed up her womb. She wiggled her ass as the second stream hit. "Squeeze my nipples," she hissed.

Jeff milked her breasts once, then brutally squeezed her nipples as he tried to push her womb through her throat. Diana came as the next three spurts splattered into her, filling her pussy. As Jeff stroked a couple of times, trying to push harder into her, come squirted out and ran down her inner thigh. Finally, he pushed her forward, forcing her to go prone on the bed. He rotated his hips, causing his cockhead to move back and forth across her cervix. Diana came again, as the world grayed out around her.

Forcing herself to stay conscious, she milked his cock as she fought to get her breath back. After a couple of minutes, she stretched to get the lighter and lit the cigarette, while he let his cock soak in her pussy.

I'll bet that new little pussy doesn't do that for you, Big Boy. And what ever happened to that sore dick of yours?

Jeff sighed as he pulled his softening cock out of Diana and flopped on the bed beside her.



-------

Chapter 17

As the jet climbed for altitude, Jeff's suspicions became a certainty. "Have you flown much?" he asked Laura, trying to sound nonchalant. But she was sharper than that.

"You know damn well I haven't," she replied in a monotone. "What gave me away? My hyperventilating, or my white-knuckled grip on the seat arms?"

Jeff laughed, looking over at her. "At least you can joke about it. But I hope you get used to it quickly, though. I'm going to need you to do a lot of flying in the next few months. Some of the equipment can be shipped, but other things are too delicate to trust to regular shipping methods. You're going to be 'hand delivering' so to speak."

"I've only flown twice, and they were ten years apart, and short trips. I'll get used to it, but don't count on my liking to fly."

"I don't really like to, particularly on a commercial flight, but I sure have done it enough. I would much rather fly in this plane, not to mention the personal service," he said, glancing at Kathy, the flight attendant.

"Thank you, Mr. Matthews. And we certainly appreciate you and your family." Turning to Laura, she continued, "Sometimes flying takes a little while to get used to, but I guarantee we have two of the safest pilots there are anywhere. The captain has thousands of flying hours, and the copilot has a lot as well. Neither of them would even think of taking off if everything about the plane were not perfect. Captain Madison is there for all the inspections and servicing. When the plane is in for maintenance, he's there every minute. The captain told me that Mr. Wainwright said he wanted to die in bed, not on an airplane, and to act accordingly. The captain gets anything he wants, no matter how much it costs. And he is just as conscientious about flying as he is about maintenance."

Turning around a little more in her seat, Kathy said, "I probably shouldn't be telling this, but since you're a little uptight about flying Ms. Kinsley, I'm going to tell you anyway." Laura snorted at the "little uptight," as Kathy continued. "A couple of months ago, we had someone pretty high up in the government that had spent several days at the plant. Captain Madison got a call from Mr. Wainwright saying that this person had to get back to Washington ASAP. We were having thunderstorms, with tornadoes in the General area. Most of the commercial flights were still flying, though, but Captain Madison told Mr. Wainwright that it would be better to wait for a few hours, or better yet, the next morning. A little while later, Mr. Wainwright called back and asked if Captain Madison would reconsider, since this person had to get back to Washington for a very important meeting. Captain Madison said no. He would not fly."

"A week or so later, we took Mr. Wainwright to Washington. He told us that this person had tried to get him to fire Captain Madison, but after the government guy got back to Washington, he called Mr. Wainwright and told him that the commercial flight he had taken later the day that Captain Madison refused to fly, had been the worst flight of his life. Mr. Wainwright had grinned and said that he had told this person that he (Wainwright) believed in giving a person the responsibility of a job, accompanied by the authority to go with that job. He said that it would be foolish to try to tell the captain how to do his job — that's what he paid Captain Madison for. Mr. Wainwright says he is going to live to be a very old man. The point being," Kathy smiled, "that safety literally comes first with him. You could not be on a safer aircraft."

"Intellectually, I know that," Laura said. "And I appreciate what you're telling me, but the logical part of my mind, and my feelings, seem to be at odds with the concept," she finished, trying to smile.

A few minutes later as the plane leveled off at altitude, the copilot keyed the PA: "I'M SORRY TO ANNOUNCE THAT WE WILL BE HAVING A LITTLE BIT OF A BUMPY RIDE FOR THE NEXT THIRTY MINUTES OR SO. PLEASE KEEP YOUR SEAT BELTS FASTENED UNTIL WE TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN TAKE THEM OFF."

Laura groaned and her face got grayer.

Jeff decided that he would try to distract her a bit, so he picked up where they left off before boarding the plane. But five minutes later, Laura stopped him. "Jeff, am I going to be able to do this? I've understood the overall concepts of what you have been talking to me about during the trip to the airport. At least I think I have. But that's about all."

Sighing, Jeff smiled at her. "I'm sorry, I guess I got carried away. I haven't really had anyone to talk to about this whole thing, except, of course, Mr. Wainwright and his people. And even then, I had to be careful with them until I sold my patent. I've been doing some thinking. Obviously, in the beginning, we will both be equipping the lab, and setting up equipment. We're going to have to convert theory, that is, my ideas, into the physical means of attaining the results we're working toward. In the beginning, we can just buy the equipment that we will need for testing, but we're going to have to build some of it, especially after we get further into the project."

Laura tried to say something, but Jeff continued, "I know. But, for the most part, I do know how to build the test equipment, and the project will be modular, just as the 'radar' was. And you will learn. Just think of it as a lab experiment like you would have in college. I'll tell you what to do. You will catch on. The programming will come in later, and I'm sure you will be teaching me then."

"I hope you're right, but right now, I feel like I'm in over my head."

"There is another thing. Well actually several. My wife pointed this out to me when we said something about the girls going to school together. We haven't decided whether we're going to send Arlene to public school, bring in a teacher for her, or home-school her. Each has good and not so good options."

"Jeff, bringing in a teacher would cost..." Laura grinned. "Yeah, I keep forgetting that money wouldn't be one of the things that would be influencing your decision."

Jeff shrugged, "We're a long way from a school, but I'm told that it is a good one. In the end, it will probably be Arlene who decides, but I want her to take some college courses during the year. That can be done on line. As could yours, or at least a lot of your courses," he finished.

"So what do you want me to take?"

"How much math have you had?"

"One Calculus course was required, and I took the second one in the series because I like math."

"Good. How much physics and chemistry?"

"Uh, just an introductory course in each. Not very good, huh?"

"Not very bad, either. If you like math, the physics should come easily. A lot of it, until you get into theory, is just applied mathematics, and to me, it's a hell of a lot more interesting than undiluted math. I'll get in touch with the woman that was my advisor in college, if she is still there. She will know more about how to approach this than I do. But I want you to go far beyond the physics required for an electrical engineering degree. Basically though, we need to get you enrolled in a good on-line college."

"Jeff, this is a catch twenty-two. I can't be of much use to you until I learn, and I won't be able to help you very much if I'm taking classes."

"Oh, yes you will. Acquiring the equipment, and setting up the lab will take time. There will be some learning even in that process. As soon as we get most of your traveling done, we will get you started on your courses. You don't have to take a full load, and assembling the equipment will be a lot easier with two of us. I can teach you. Which brings me to the second of Diana's ideas. Her 'on-the-job training.' I intend to build this, generally, like I did my radar. That is, in a more-or-less modular form, as I said before. At least for the prototype. It will be twenty times bigger than the production model, but we will sell the prototype and the related patents. We'll let some company worry over miniaturizing the production model."

"So, I'm going to be an electrical engineer?"

"You're going to be an electrical engineer. And unless I miss my guess, a damned good one."

"Thanks, Jeff. Oh, not for that last comment; although, I do appreciate the vote of confidence, but I mean for all you're doing for Ann and me. I know that Diana talked you into this, just to get her best friend a job, but if you really think it will work, then so do I. We will make it work," she said, emphatically, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

Jeff couldn't help but notice that her nipples were making little bumps on the front of her blouse, even through her bra. She also caught him looking, and blushed. The plane picked that moment to hit an air pocket and drop for a second, then a moment later, bump hard. At least I got her mind off the plane for a little while. I don't think she even noticed the bumpy ride until that air pocket.

-------

Laura sat on a stool, fatigued, her mind awhirl. They had spent two hours in meetings. All the technicians and engineers had treated her with courtesy, but they were obviously waiting for Jeff to fix what was wrong. They had their questions lined up — many questions. Hours later, in the lab, Jeff, his voice showing irritation, asked, "But I still can't understand why you are building a duplicate of my prototype. You were supposed to miniaturize the thing, not make another one."

A tall, lanky man with glasses was about as irritated as Jeff was. "I can't miniaturize the damn thing until I understand it."

"Then why doesn't yours work. If you copied mine, then yours has to work, too. Is mine still working, or have you screwed that up, too?"

Laura jumped up. "Break time. Break time," she yelled into the ensuing storm of cuss words spouting from both Jeff and Miller, not to say anything about the racket coming from several of the other engineers. She grabbed someone at random. "Lead us to the break room, I'm not sure I remember the way," although, she knew exactly where it was.

As they walked through the door a few minutes later, Jeff turned to Miller. "I was out of line. No excuses. I fucked up. I apologize," he finished, sticking out his hand.

Miller glared at him for a moment, then took the preferred hand. "Ah, I was just as much to blame. I can't figure out what we did wrong, and I was blaming you."

Laura put her hand on Jeff's shoulder. "You guys are trying to solve all the world's mysteries in one day. I'm tired. And I haven't even been doing anything. All of you people," she continued, looking around her at the engineers and technicians, "have to be, also. Murphy must love it when we get tired. He gets to screw up lots more things, then." There were a couple of half-hearted chuckles. "It's after eight. What's wrong with calling it a day, get some sleep, and start this thing with a fresh mind tomorrow?"

"Eight," Jeff exclaimed, looking at his watch. "I haven't even gotten us a hotel room."

"Jeff, I may have been yelling at you back there, but we certainly haven't completely forgotten our manners. The guest suite is arranged for you and Laura. The limo will run you over, and pick you up in the morning."

"Look, we don't need a limo. Can't you just let me drive one of the company cars, like you did before? I'm not really into limousines and things like that."

Miller laughed. "Number one, Mr. Wainwright set out instructions after he talked to you yesterday..."

"And number two," Laura broke in, looking at Jeff, "You're too tired to be driving in an unfamiliar city when you don't have to. I know I am. We got up at three this morning, if you remember."

"Yes, boss," Jeff kidded.

Laura blushed, starting to say something else, when Miller told one of the technicians to escort them to the limo. "See you in the morning. Say about ten. I for one am not coming in early."

-------

Jeff sat on the couch of their sitting room, his head back, almost asleep. The remains of a meal were on the table. He didn't even seem to have the energy to push the cart back into the hallway.

Laura had circuit diagrams scattered across the floor, trying to compare Jeff's working prototype with the non-working model that Wainwright's engineers had built, supposedly copying Jeff's model. To begin with, they didn't copy Jeff's model. Everything is in a different place. If they wanted to build one so they could understand what was going on, then they should have done just that — copied everything exactly. But nooo, they're men. They had to arrange everything differently — the macho effect. And I just know that they have made changes other than arrangement. But I don't know enough about electronics to find out what they changed.

She had taken digital pictures, close-ups, of Jeff's working prototype, and the unit the engineers had built, then downloaded the photos to Jeff's laptop. She had made Jeff show her the corresponding circuit diagram for each module.

She reached for her coffee cup — empty. The pot was empty too. And the kitchen closed at ten. Shit! She and Jeff had already gone through the coffee provided in the room, and she had finished off the coffee they had ordered with their meal. Shit!

Dialing the phone, she got the front desk. "Room service is closed. How about sending up a couple of packs of coffee so I can make some with this little dinky coffee maker of yours. Not decaf, she added, trying not to snarl."

Jeff opened one eye and lifted an eyebrow at her as she hung the phone up, none too gently. "It's late," he tentatively said, "We can hash this out at the lab tomorrow." He noticed her again trying to adjust her bra strap, contorting her arm to reach behind her. "Why don't you take that thing off? I've seen you without a bra before. I don't understand why you are torturing yourself."

"Jeff, I..."

"Laura, I've seen nipples before, and titties bounce. There are four teenage girls at the house; one of them is your daughter. There is no one here but us, and I'm certainly not going to rape you. You have had that thing on since the wee hours of the morning. My wife would have been screaming by now. Pull it off."

"Thanks." She did the set of contortions that women do, and seconds later, pulled a bra out of her right sleeve. She immediately tried to scratch her back again.

Jeff, laughed, got up and scratched her back where the bra strap had been, then continued on into the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

A few minutes later, she had a fresh cup of not-so-good coffee in her hand and was poring over the diagrams. As Jeff walked back into the room, she said, "Jeff. Look at this. What does this symbol mean?"

"Laura, look. It's late. I've already told you what a hundred things mean. And everybody does things a little differently. Look, that's a filter with a cut out of about 3.5 kHz. I was getting a lot of static, and..."

"Why does theirs say 35 kHz?" she asked, sweetly.

There was a long pause. "They wouldn't get anything," he said, stunned. "The circuit would oscillate. The filter would block everything." He snatched the diagram up. "Shit. They said they didn't change anything!" he exclaimed.

"They probably didn't, intentionally. Murphy just seized his chance."

"Why in the fuck didn't I see this?" Jeff asked, feeling guilty.

"Because you knew what should be there, and..."

"Saw what I needed to see," Jeff finished for her.

"And I," Laura continued, "Don't know my ass from a hole in the ground about circuit diagrams, so I saw what was there," she laughed.

Jeff was still staring at the diagram as Laura asked, "Have you called Diana?"

"Oh, crap. I was so tired, I didn't even think about it."

"Here you are, umpteen miles from home, in a hotel with another woman, and you didn't call your wife," she mused. "Yeah, well. Guess who is going to be sleeping on the couch when you get home."

If Jeff heard her, he didn't say anything; he was already dialing the phone. After talking with Diana for quite awhile, which entailed a lot of stammering on his part, he handed the phone to Laura with an odd look on his face. Jeff went on into his bedroom, but didn't close the door.

"I heard you just solved their problem," Diana said as soon as Laura said hello.

Laura laughed, "Well, maybe. Then again, someone could have just left out the decimal on the diagram."

"Or could have forgotten it when they built the thing," Diana laughed. "But you know, damn well, that I'm proud of you. Changing the subject. How are you and Jeff getting along?"

"Well, I've seen a side of him today, that I've never seen before. He can really be intense. And he and their engineers had certainly gotten over the friendly stage before we gave up for the night. But he has been really nice to me. Heck, I don't know enough to argue with him. When it comes down to it, I don't really know enough about what is going on to carry on a conversation in the lab. I just sit there and look stupid."

Diana laughed. "I doubt if those engineers will think that after you show them what is wrong with the model."

"Oh, that's up to Jeff. I don't know enough to do that."

"You still have a lot to learn about him, girl. Trust me. It will be you showing them what you found. He would never take credit for someone else's work. But that enough about that. Has Jeff put the make on you yet?"

"Diana. You know Jeff would never do that. And if you're joking, it's not funny."

"Yeah, that's about what he said on the phone a minute ago when I asked him the same question."

"Diana, what's gotten into you? You know I would never mess with your husband." Thinking Diana may have gotten the wrong idea, because she and Jeff were in the same room together, she continued. "Look, Diana, this is a suite, we're in the living room. We each have bedrooms..."

Diana interrupted, "Laura, you don't understand. I am not accusing you of anything. I know it is a suite, or at least thought it would be. What I am saying is this. My husband is currently fucking me, my daughter, and your daughter. He is used to getting his rocks off four times a day, or more. He is probably going to get snarly if he doesn't get some nooky pretty soon. When is the last time you got laid?"

"Diana, I, uh..."

"A year? Two years? Five? Unless you have quit telling me about your love life, there hasn't been one."

"Well, I haven't been really lucky with the men I have picked..."

"Go take a quick shower. Walk into his bedroom buck-naked. Don't say anything; just stick a titty in his mouth. Fuck his brains out. You will both sleep better."

"Diana. I can't fuck your husband!"

"My daughter just came into my bedroom wearing nothing but a smile, as they say. She has a new pink vibrator that we mail ordered. I'll bet we can give each other enough orgasms to get us by until that big-dicked husband of mine gets home."

"Diana. I've never heard you talk like this."

Diana laughed. "Go fuck my husband. I'm going to be pissed if you don't. We'll talk when you get home. This is the new Diana. My husband comes first. Uh, no pun intended. I'm surprised he didn't leave me long ago. There is no telling how many orgasms I missed. Now go fuck his brains out. Welcome to the harem." Giggling, she hung up.

Laura stood with the phone in her hand until the dial tone returned. Absently putting the phone down, she turned and walked into the bathroom. She got the shower started and adjusted the water. Tossing her clothes on the counter, she stepped into the warm water. What have I gotten myself into? I can't screw Diana's husband. If Diana knew I have fantasized about him for years, she would ... would ... what? I used to think she would have a fit, maybe never speak to me again. Now I don't know what to think. I would never even tell Ann, even though she told me she masturbated thinking about Jeff. She ran the washcloth across her right nipple, and almost came.

Pulling the cap off as she stepped out of the shower, she tossed it atop her case. Now what am I going to do? I know Diana was serious, but what is this going to do to our relationship. She is my best friend. My only friend, for that matter. How will she act when we get home? How will Jeff act? Bull shit. What am I thinking? Nothing is going to happen — and I'll bet Diana will be glad it didn't, regardless of what she said. No way am I going to fuck her husband.

As Laura walked back into her bedroom from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body, not paying attention to anything except the thoughts racing through her mind, she bumped into Jeff. Without a word, he leaned down, picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and walked through the living room into his bedroom. The towel had come loose, and fell away as he tossed her onto the bed on her back. She saw his cock standing out from his nude body. She froze. "Jeff, no. I, uh ... that thing will never ... Jeff we can't do this. Diana is my friend. Uh, that thing won't go in me. I can't ... uhhh."

Jeff leaned over and kissed her pussy, perfectly on her clit. He eased between her legs and licked up her slit like it was an ice cream cone. "Jeff, we can't do this," she gasped, her hands grasping the sheet on either side of her body, just before the orgasm hit. Oh, crap. He licks my pussy three swipes and I come like a teenager that has never had her cunt licked. Well, then again, I guess I never have had it licked.

Without any more preamble, he pushed her knees over his shoulders, swiped his cock in her lips to get the head moist — and shoved.

"Oh, shit, Jeff," Laura panted. "I haven't had a man in five years. And I've never had anything that big in me. Now, wait Jeff. I, uuhhh..."

Jeff's cock wedged about halfway in, and just wouldn't go any farther. He pulled back out, lubed his cock again, and shoved. Laura's legs went stiff; his cock slid to the top of her sheath, and bumped her cervix. Her orgasm peaked, her legs vibrated, she gasped, mumbled something unintelligible — and fainted.

"Well, shit," he said, quietly. He let her legs down, then just lay there with his dick so hard it hurt. After a couple of minutes, he pulled out, and pulled the sheet over them. He flipped the light switch and pulled her into his arms. I guess she's so tired that she went on to sleep, instead of waking up from fainting. Be damned if I'm going to fuck an unconscious woman. And I'm sure not going to beat my meat while lying next to someone this beautiful, either.

After lying there awhile, his dick went down partway. She must really have needed it,  he mused. Maybe it really has been five years. He was asleep without realizing he was even close.

-------

Laura woke up to the heavenly smell of fresh coffee. As she blearily opened one eye, she realized that Jeff was waving a cup of the wonderful stuff practically under her nose. Then she realized she was nude in his bed and one breast was completely exposed. Then she really remembered.

She fumbled with the sheet, but she couldn't seem to cover herself as he put the coffee down, leaned over, and sucked her nipple into his mouth. He ran his tongue over the projection, sucked hard, then gently stripped it with his teeth. Sitting back up, he handed her the coffee. "You're a beautiful woman, Laura. And you know how to pay a guy a compliment."

Blushing furiously, she stammered, "I guess I had done without too long. I mean; that's the first time I have ever done anything like that. I, uh ... Did you? I mean..."

"Did I get my rocks off?" Jeff grinned. "No, but I did get to sleep with a beautiful woman in my arms. And your breasts do feel good pressed against my side."

Laura almost spilled the coffee. "Jeff, I feel like an idiot. I fainted like some schoolgirl and left you without any relief. Do you want to finish now? I'm so sorry."

"Laura, hush, Baby. I'm a big boy. I can go for one night without sex, regardless of what Diana says. Besides," he mused, "how many guys do you suppose, have had a beautiful woman faint from just having him shove his dick in one time? Not to mention orgasming, if there is such as word, so beautifully for him with only one stroke."

He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips, then did the same to her nipple. "Get that pretty ass out of bed, breakfast is on the table in the other room. We've got to go show that bunch of engineers that you're a hell of a lot more than just a pretty piece of ass."

Laura thought that was a compliment, but she was not sure. She wrapped the towel she found on the floor around her, and took off for her bedroom and bath. A few minutes later, she was seated at the table as Jeff dished out the scrambled eggs. As she was spreading jelly on her toast, he casually remarked. "You know we're going to have to finish what we started last night, before we go back home."

It was all she could do to not drop the toast. This man has no idea how much I love him. I know this is going to wind up breaking my heart. But then again, I've wanted him ever since I met him. But he has never even looked at me. What was it Diana said about a harem? I don't even think she was kidding. Face it, dummy; you have been with hardly anyone else, because you couldn't have him. You know you will take whatever Diana lets you have.

"I'll try to stay conscious longer next time," she managed to say, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Do I need to pick up something for birth control?" Jeff asked, leaning over and lifting her chin.

Resigning herself, she looked at him. "No. I get a shot the same time Ann does. Jeff, I'm acting like an idiot. I don't know what is wrong with me. I'm sorry. I really haven't had that much sex. I mean, I guess I just didn't want to have anything to do with men after Dan got me pregnant and took off. Well you know all about that. I was very young, and I just kind of hated men for a long time." No, that's not true. You realized you were in love with your best friend's husband and just wouldn't date anyone else, much. How do I tell him I've had a few one-night-stands that all ended in disaster, because Jeff wasn't the man inside me?

Suddenly, much more to her embarrassment, tears were pouring from her eyes. She did not even know how long she had been crying. She just noticed a drop on her plate, then realized where it came from. Somehow, the tears infuriated her, and she just blurted the whole thing out. How she had loved him for years, but kept it hidden because he was her best friend's husband. How her affairs all seemed like she was cheating on him. How she wished, so many times that she could tell her daughter that she was in love with the same man that she (Ann) was.

Jeff picked her up, sat them on the couch, snuggled her in his arms, and let her cry it out. After a while, he kissed her, and told her she was home now. She wasn't going anywhere and he wasn't going anywhere. She knew he was not talking about the hotel. She pushed her breasts against his chest and tried to burrow into him.

They sat for some time, then Jeff swatted her ass. "Get that pretty ass up woman, put some work clothes on, and let's go lecture that bunch at Wainwright, Inc. We have some serious fucking to do later today," he said with a mischievous grin, "and the sooner we get their prototype to work, the sooner we can get to the fucking."

-------

"Gentlemen, Laura worked for quite a while last night after we got to the hotel. I think she has solved your problem. She has something to show you." Jeff grinned at her and walked out of the lab.

Laura wasn't sure who was the most astonished when he left. Girding her loins, she spread out the diagrams.

A few minutes later, Jeff walked back in with a cup of coffee in his hand just as Miller exclaimed, "SON ... OF ... A ... BITCH!"

Three hours later, they tracked a plane forty miles away, and could read the tail number. Stevenson was blathering to her in technical jargon with Laura getting only a faint gist of what he was talking about. But she was definitely included as one of them now.

Miller got off the phone and turned to Jeff. Mr. Wainwright would like you to stop by his office, if you don't mind. After another round of thanks, they rode over to the office building, and eventually made their way to Mr. Wainwright's office. After telling them how much he appreciated having Jeff and Laura straighten things out, he handed Jeff a check. "Per our agreement," he said, "and I put a little something with it for your quick response when we called you."

Jeff looked at the check, calmly tore it in half, then handed it back to Wainwright. Before anyone could say anything, Jeff said, "You people have been more than generous with me. Although I certainly appreciate the money, I think the spirit of the contract would not be fulfilled if I took this money. You threw in a brand new Escalade, and haven't limited me to just using the plane for your company's business..."

Wainwright interrupted, "Now we stipulated in the contract that you had full use of the plane anytime you needed it, if it wasn't being used, Jeff. So that wasn't anything extra."

"Yeah, I know," Jeff said, "but I still appreciate it. And I expect to be using it a lot in the future." He gave them a quick rundown on his new lab and his intentions for a new invention. "Since you have been straight with me, to use one more of my southern expressions, I'll do the same with you. When our new product is ready, you will have the first chance to bid on it. I think it will make us all a lot of money."

"When do you expect to have something working?" Wainwright asked.

"Two, maybe three years. I know what I want. It is just a matter of building it. But I ... we ... will be going down new avenues that haven't been explored before. So, it's going to take awhile."

"We'll be waiting. And sorry the plane is down for scheduled maintenance. Is spending another night here going to inconvenience you a lot?"

Jeff actually managed to keep a straight face. "Not really. We were up late last night while Laura solved our little problem, and I thought I would take her out to a nice restaurant to show my appreciation. Another night's rest would probably do us both good."

Laura saw Mr. Wainwright nod at Tingle, who immediately left the room. A few minutes later, he came back in and handed the president a card. With a big smile on his face, Wainwright handed Jeff the note and said. "We managed to get you a reservation at my favorite restaurant. It's for seven. I hope that will be satisfactory." When Jeff thanked him, Wainwright continued, "The limo driver will pick you up around six thirty. He will call when he gets to the hotel. Enjoy."

As soon as they were in the limo on the way to the hotel, Laura almost hissed, "I didn't bring anything with me to wear to a fancy restaurant. I thought we would be working. I..."

"There's a dress shop in the hotel. I'll bet they will be more than pleased to get you something that would work out just fine."

"You can't be serious. Do you know how much they charge in that place?"

"Laura," Jeff said, taking her hand. "Do you have any idea how long it would have taken me to find that error? I would have found it eventually, true. But I would have checked out the output from each system until I tracked it down. It scares me to think that I would have used their diagrams, instead of my originals to check my results. It could have been a day, or a week. And I damn sure would not have been in a good mood while trying to chase down their blunder, no matter how much they paid me. And I had no intention of taking their money before we even got here. Sometimes, it's a lot better to do someone a favor, and leave them owing you. Besides, they have been more than good to me."

"But getting back to your finding the error. Just consider the dress a bit of a bonus for getting us out of a lot of work."

An hour later, they were back at the hotel and in their room. Jeff had walked into the dress shop with Laura, pointed at the dress in the window, and told the stuck-up clerk that he wanted that dress in Laura's size. "While you're at it, let's have the whole ensemble." The clerk, suddenly very friendly, was only too happy to oblige.

Later, Laura looked at herself in the mirror. There won't be any doubt about whether or not I have on a bra. You can see half my tits, and that's if the dress stays perfectly in place. If I lean over, something is liable to fall out. That tiny strap around my neck is the only thing holding this thing up. Without a back, if the strap goes, my breasts will fall out in a heartbeat. And without a back, I can't wear a bra.

While she was thinking about that, Jeff reached under the dress from behind and pulled her panties down. "The dress is black. No one will know if you don't wear panties."

She didn't argue. She just stepped out of them. Well, that will eliminate the panty line. But it's sure going to keep my mind on my drooling pussy. I'll bet I'll be thinking about it tomorrow, too. Shit, I'm going to be too sore to walk. I can already feel where he has been with him just shoving it up me once. Arlene's 'walk like a duck' doesn't sound nearly as funny now.

Shrugging mentally, she turned around, looking over her shoulder to see how she looked. With the black spikes, the matching purse, and the sheer stockings, the elegant dress looked just that — elegant. She had done her hair, and for once, it did what it was supposed to. She had lightly done her makeup, and had just finished when the limo driver called.

Jeff hung the phone up, offered his arm, and said, "Madam," with an atrociously fake French accent. As they walked through the lobby, two guys almost walked into each other while staring at her, but she didn't notice.

About halfway through the meal, Jeff calmly stated, "As soon as we get back to the hotel, I'm going to bend you over the couch, flip your skirt up and fuck a load of come up your pussy."

She almost strangled. Later, she couldn't even remember if they had dessert or not. All she could think of was the vivid mental picture Jeff had, seemingly indelibly, stamped into her mind.

On the way back in the limo, she had expected him to kiss her, or maybe play with her breasts, but he didn't. He just held her hand and made a few comments about the dinner and traffic.

When they entered the room, he opened his case with Laura standing there wondering what he was doing. Producing a digital camera, he quickly shot several pictures, showing her the poses he wanted. None of them were, by any means, lewd.

Putting the camera on the desk, he gently kissed her and cupped her mound in his hand. Reaching under the dress, continuing the kiss, he pulled a finger through her slit. Other men had done this to her with hardly any reaction at all. With Jeff doing it, her pussy was a boiling caldron almost immediately.

Stepping back, he dropped his coat, quickly followed by the rest of his clothes. True to his word, he spun her around, leaned her over the couch, and flipped her skirt up to her waist. It took three pushes to wedge his cock against her cervix. When he was fully seated, he waited for awhile to allow her to get used to him, then reached around and made sure that her breasts were hanging out. They were. Cupping them in his hands, he proceeded to fuck her brains out, as Diana would say.

She started coming on the third stroke, and went almost nonstop. He squeezed hard on her breasts, grunted and pumped semen up her. She couldn't believe he was coming so much. Until Jeff, she had never actually felt a man's come before, and every spurt seemed to push her higher until they both collapsed on the carpet with her locked between his legs. The whole thing hadn't lasted five minutes, and she had come more with him than she had with every man she'd had before, total. Of course, most of the time, she didn't come at all with a man, because she was feeling guilty because it wasn't Jeff's dick up her. She came plenty with her vibrator thinking about Jeff fucking her. Boy, if every woman had one of these stuck up her, the vibrator company would be out of business.

After a few minutes, Jeff grabbed a cushion off the couch and slipped it under her belly. After letting his cock soak for a little longer, while rubbing her back, he was ready to go again. He started with long slow strokes, and fucked her for a long time. She came so many times that she was making mewling sounds when he hit bottom. After a while, he pulled hard on her nipples and slammed his cock into her. She vowed she wouldn't pass out, but the orgasms kept building. She couldn't get enough air. Then she felt his sperm splash inside her again, and the world went black.

At some point, she realized that she was lying on the couch with her head in his lap. He was talking with someone on the phone, probably Diana, then she went back to sleep.

Later, she woke with a very pleasant sensation coming from her right nipple. "Oh, Jeff, that feels so good," she purred. Then a second later, she added, "But come drying on my ass from that cold air from the air conditioner, doesn't." Her dress was still bunched up around her waist. She realized her pussy had leaked onto the couch, her ass, and her legs. "I thought Ann was just exaggerating when she told me how much come ran out of her. All those years, and Diana never told me you came that much," she said, sitting up and capping her hand over her pussy.

Jeff laughed, bemusedly, "Believe it or not, I never used to come as much as I do now."

"I thought a guy reached his peak about sixteen or so," she said, looking at his cock standing rigid again. "Are you taking something, Viagra or something?"

Jeff just shook his head. Then after staring at the wall a moment, he continued, "Some of it must be related to the things that have happened to Diana and me. But in the last couple of years, my body has changed." Glancing at Laura still sitting beside him with her breasts hanging out and her hand capped over her pussy, he grinned, "Of course any guy, anything less than three days dead, would get an erection over what is sitting beside me."

Getting hastily up, Laura smiled back at him. "Flattery will get you everywhere, as they say, that is, if that pole between your legs doesn't kill me." She took off for the bathroom. A couple of minutes later, the shower started.

Shit. I wanted to fuck her again with that dress and spike heels on. Well, I guess she'll just have to put them back on after we shower. He got up and followed her into the bathroom.

A little later, he had Laura's legs on his shoulders, and was pounding away. Her breasts were bouncing as he tried to cram his dick up her pussy. It wouldn't quite go all the way, but it still felt good when he shot his load up her. She did not quite faint, but she gasped and shivered, coming again and again. When he pulled out, and the small tidal wave of come ran out, he noticed her pussy. Man, her pussy looks like it's wrecked. I guess I won't get any in the morning. Looking at his watch, Well, not any more this morning. It was already past one.

He called the desk and asked for a wake-up call at six. They had to be at the airport at nine. Maybe he could talk her into a blowjob before they left.



-------

Chapter 18

The trip back had been uneventful, although Laura was a little withdrawn. They picked up the Expedition in Boulder and started their drive home. Laura glanced at Jeff. Leaning over and kissing his cheek, she said, "Thanks for making love to me. I've dreamed of your doing that for a long time."

Jeff grinned. "I doubt that it would be called that. Probably fucking would be more in line with what I did to you." When Laura did not say anything, he continued, "However, I did it with love, if that makes any sense." Looking to his left and waiting for a moment for traffic to go by, he pulled onto the highway. "And I should be thanking you instead," he finished as he winked at her.

Laura realized that she was blushing in spite of herself. She sat quietly for a minute, then said, "Diana tells me you have a cigarette fetish."

The non sequitur startled him for a moment. Damn. No wonder Arlene tells everything. She takes it from her mother.

"Look, Laura, I don't have a fetish, unless it's watching a good-looking woman walk around in high heels. Then again, most men seem to like that. And I've never heard it called a fetish. It forces a woman to stand up straight, push her breasts out, strut a little. It also makes the calves of her legs stand out more. Hell, I don't know what it is, but most every model walking down a runway will have on a pair of heels. The woman just looks sexier. I know some of the women's liberation groups claim that it belittles a woman, but it doesn't belittle them to me. Your wearing those heels sure looked good from where I was last night."

Laura smirked at him as he continued, "Now back to this so-called fetish that I'm supposed to have. Jack was the one that started this ... whatever it is. Diana has smoked for years, and I did think she looked sexy when she did, but other than that, I really didn't give it much thought. Diana tells me that she saw Jack fucking Arlene with her standing against the picnic table in our back yard in Georgia. Arlene had snitched one of Diana's Virginia Slims 120's and was prissing around with it — actually holding it in her mouth while Jack fucked her. Obviously, I know that Diana told you everything that happened with Jack, and my holding things inside drove me nuts, so I'm going to talk about this."

Laura interrupted. "Jeff, Diana did tell me. We've told each other everything since I can remember. You don't have to tell me anything, I shouldn't have even brought up the fetish."

"I don't have a fetish." Laura grinned, but Jeff didn't notice. "To get back to where I was, as you know, I came in and watched, and taped, Jack fucking Diana in our old playroom. Diana was messing around with a cigarette while wearing nothing but a pair of heels. Arlene was doing about the same thing — minus the heels. Then when Jack fucked Diana..." There was a long pause, then just as Laura started to say something, Jeff continued. "I'm glad I kicked that son-of-a-bitch's ass."

After another pause, Jeff said, "Jack told her to hold the cigarette in her mouth and look sexy as he fucked her. I guess it did look a bit sexy, but at the time, I was pretty much devastated by watching my wife fuck someone else ... but I had to find out what was going on. I guess I never told Diana," he said, almost in a whisper, "but I barely made it outside before I threw up. Not killing Jack was one of the hardest things I have ever done."

"Not to say anything about burning his house down," Laura said, smirking a little.

"Shit, Laura. Don't ever mention that to anyone. I'll wind up in jail for sure. Besides, I didn't burn his house down for revenge." At Laura's exclamation, he said, "I really didn't. I burned it down to get rid of any of the pictures he had on the computer, or hidden in his house. Looking back on it, I wish he could have seen the thing go up."

"I admit that watching Diana and Arlene smoke, or strut around, sure beats what I see with a lot of women. It seems to me that since all the bad publicity about smoking, most women that smoke don't try to look feminine when they smoke. I heard a guy once say most of them smoke like truck drivers."

Laura giggled. "I think I know what you mean, but describe it to me."

"Well there are some things that just look nasty to me. A cigarette hanging out of a woman's mouth with a long ash on it is one thing. I once saw a woman hold a cigarette in her teeth when she lit it. I don't know how to describe it, but some women look like men do smoking. They don't do anything that looks feminine; hell, they might as well be smoking a cigar, or chewing tobacco. Some few others make a production out of lighting a cigarette. That's what Diana was doing when she and Jack were in the basement to start with. I guess it's more the mood of the thing, than the actual thing itself — if that makes any sense."

Glancing at her, then back at the road, he continued. "I met this woman a few years ago that, if you looked at each part of her separately, she would not be anything spectacular; she might even be less than pretty. Her eyes were a little too wide apart, her nose was a little too long, etc., but she thought she was sexy. And taken as a whole, she was. But her attitude had a lot to do with it. I watched her strut into a busy restaurant, and I swear, not a man there could take his eyes off her. I think the cigarettes tend to project an attitude that is attractive to me — I don't know what Jack got out of it, but that's about the best I can describe it. The way Diana and Arlene do it, it emphasizes their haughtiness, or prissy attitudes."

"In other words, you have a cigarette fetish," she laughed.

Ah, shit.

A little later, Laura told him to pull into a service station/convenience store. "I'll be right back. That coffee got to me," she threw back over her shoulder, as she hurried inside.

A few minutes later, as they pulled back onto the road, she opened a pack of Virginia Slims 120's, delicately lit the cigarette, pursed her mouth and blew the smoke toward the window.

Ah, shit.

By the time they turned into the drive, Laura's mood had deteriorated, however. "I hope Diana hasn't changed her mind about what we did, or rather, what she told us to do." Jeff looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, you know what I mean," she finished, lamely.

"In other words, you're afraid that she is going to kick your ass for fucking her husband." Jeff said, deadpan.

"Ah, crap, Jeff. I was nervous enough without you putting it that way."

As they pulled into the back and stopped, Jeff glanced at her. "I'll admit that I've been known to mix up Diana's yeses and nos on occasion, but I think she really meant yes this time."

"Gee, Jeff. That straightened things out for me," she sarcastically said as she got out of the Expedition and started around to pick up her bag. As Jeff opened the back, "I'm half expecting to meet her at that door," she said, nodding at the house, "with tears streaming down her face."

By that time, Jeff wasn't as sure as he had been earlier. He shrugged, flinching inwardly, pulled his case out, and started for the house.

She was not at the door. It took them several minutes to find her. When they did, she did not seem too depressed. Everyone was in the hot tub having a ball, laughing and cutting up. There were not any clothes on the deck, let alone being worn by anyone. Jeff had never seen so many jiggling titties at one time in his life.

Diana jumped out and ran over to Jeff, splashing water everywhere, deliberately adding as much bounce to her breasts as she could. She hugged him and kissed him hard. Turning to Laura, laughing, "Get your clothes off, hussy, and join the fun," she said, kissing her on the cheek. "Come join the rest of the harem."

Jeff started to turn away and go back inside to let the girls play. Diana grabbed him and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Come on, don't be a spoilsport."

"Spoilsport? Diana. Jennie and Melissa are in there," he said, trying to be reasonable, "I can't get in that tub with those girls."

By now, Diana had his shirt off and was working on his tee-shirt. His pants soon fell around his feet. "Diana," he hissed, "'Mr. Dick', as you call him, will stand up in about ten seconds flat. Then you will be pissed. I'm going back inside." He tried to pull his pants back up, but Diana yanked his shorts down to the accompaniment of cat calls from the hot tub. Stooping, she pulled pants and shorts to his ankles. It was either step out of his clothing or fall on his face. He shrugged out of his shoes, then stepped out of his clothes. Diana pulled his socks off.

Knowing how to handle him, she led him to the tub with his dick. He was right, though. It was stuck out like a steel bar before he made it to the tank.

When Diana noticed that Laura was still standing back fully clothed, Diana told Arlene, grinning, "Here, take this and see that it doesn't run away," handing Jeff's dick off like a runner would a baton. Diana turned back to Laura, while Arlene diligently obeyed her mother, steering Jeff into the tub, trying to keep her face serious, desperately trying not to giggle. Melissa, Jennie, and Ann shrieked, jumped up and down, and generally did everything they could to embarrass Jeff.

Grabbing Laura by the hand, Diana dragged her to the tub and splashed her top with water. Laughing, "Now, you're all wet, so you have to get out of those clothes." Adding action to words, she pulled Laura's pants down, then her panties.

Laura gave up and stepped out of her heels, then her pants and panties. As she was pulling her top over her head, Diana pulled Laura's hose down and off her feet, noticing Laura's swollen nether lips in the process. "Ooh, I'll bet that hurts," she teased, then standing up, she grabbed and quickly unhooked Laura's bra, as only a woman can. Laura's breasts popped out and bounced, her nipples dark red, almost purple.

"Looks like he really had himself some fun," she chided, eying Laura's swollen nipples, and the blush that was fast turning Laura's face and upper chest crimson. Diana turned toward her husband as shrieks announced a gaggle of girls swarming him.

Laura put her hand on Diana's shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay with this? You guys have given me a job and a home. I don't want to mess things up ... If I haven't already..."

Diana kissed Laura hard on the mouth, crushing their breasts together. Breaking instantly away, she half giggled, half laughed. "I'm happier than I can ever remember being. We'll talk later, if it will make you feel any better. But I was dead serious when I welcomed you to the harem. Now quit being a prude, and let's rescue our husband before those girls have sperm floating everywhere. I love it in my mouth, or my pussy, but I don't want it in my bath water. Ugh."

As Diana and Laura stepped into the tub, Ann jumped out and took off for the sliding doors to the house proper. "I'll be right back," she yelled over her shoulder. As she yanked on the door, her wet feet almost slid out from under her, but she recovered and didn't slow down as she rushed inside.

When she got back, Jeff was sitting on the seat with his back against the inside of the tub. Arlene was sitting in his lap, kissing him, with Jennie and Melissa on either side pushing their breasts against the side of his head, obviously hoping he would turn a little and suck their nipples. Ann tossed a tube of lubricant on the deck, and with her pussy lips shining, stepped back into the water.

Next to Arlene, Ann quietly, but with emphasis, said, "My time."

Arlene reluctantly broke the kiss with her dad, looked at Ann and grinned. "You sure you're ready?"

At her stock answer: "I've been ready since I was thirteen," Arlene slid out of the way, and Ann, without further ado, straddled Jeff, grabbed his cock, and positioned it at her slick hole. Taking Jeff's head with both hands, she fiercely kissed him. As soon as their mouths locked, she sat down as hard as she could. Jeff barely managed to get his hands under her ass to cushion her descent, before his dick slid up her greased hole and hit her cervix. She screamed into his mouth, causing everyone to laugh.

"Well, I guess he's in," Jennie said, wistfully.

"Jeff," Diana teased, "if you fuck that girl unconscious, you're the one that is going to have to carry her into the house."

As Jeff tried to look at his wife, Ann broke the kiss, and still holding the back of his head with one hand, and the other hand guiding her right breast, she shoved a nipple into his mouth. If she were still sore, she did not show it. Her hips rocked back and forth at a furious pace, interspersed with an occasional up and down motion. She screamed with each orgasm. After the fifth one, she slumped against his chest, grinning like a Cheshire cat, her chest heaving from the exertion, her eyes hooded.

"You live here now, Sweetie. You don't have to get it all at one time," Diana teased as she reached under Ann's shoulders from behind and lifted her up, accompanied by a weak grumbling from Ann. Diana took Ann's place on Jeff's lap, and kissed her husband as she guided his dick to her pussy. She wasn't lubed like Ann, plus she had been very diligently doing her Kegel exercises, and squeezing a small dildo that she had bought for that purpose. Between the tightening of her pussy and the water's effect, Jeff's dick felt like it was going up a virgin as she tried to sit down. Sticking her titty into his mouth like Ann had done, and moving slightly up and down, soon got her lubrication going and she settled onto him until her cervix pressed tightly against the head of his dick.

They both grunted when his penis hit bottom.

Something is going on that I don't know about. Sticking my dick up Diana's pussy is like sticking it in a vice,  Jeff thought. Looks like she is worried about a little competition, even though she instigated the competition herself. She never could squeeze that hard before, if that's what she's doing. Whatever it is, I love it.

She slowly rotated her ass as she squeezed and released with her pussy muscles, savoring his big cock back home where it belonged.

Licking and sucking lightly on her nipple for awhile, he changed and stripped it gently with his teeth, causing milk to spurt. She came, bigtime, as Arlene would say. Diana realized that she was as frantic to have his cock as Ann had been. Knowing that Jeff had fucked Ann, and her mother, since his cock had been inside her (Diana), had a lot to do with it, she guessed. I don't mind sharing, but this load is going up my pussy. She hardly had the thought when Jeff thrust hard into her several times, then groaning deep in his throat, his cock throbbing, sent the first geyser of semen straight up her womb.

Diana came again — hard. The world seemed to sway around her as his cock pulsed three more times, sending warmth up her, and a feeling that seemed to radiate throughout her body. She slumped against him, gasping, as he whispered in her ear, "I love you."

She smiled and nuzzled his neck, as the world seemed to materialize. Everyone, including Laura, was clapping. Somehow, that embarrassed her, although she had not even stopped to think about fucking her husband in front of an audience. Well, I guess I just proved I'm a slut. But who cares, I can feel his come inside me, and I've gotten really used to that feeling every night. I wasn't going any longer without it. Besides, I'm number one in this pecking order. Ann did beat me to him, but I got his load. I'm going to sit here and let that big cock soak inside me.

As she snuggled with her husband, feeling his cock limbering in her pussy, Jeff whispered in her ear. "What am I going to do with those two over there? There's no way I'm going to fuck them. It seems like I would be betraying their fathers. I know they aren't married, but it just isn't right. But they're obviously expecting me to fuck them, though. What are we going to do? I should have never gotten into this tub," Jeff finished, pretending to kiss his wife's neck as he whispered.

"Oh, Jeff, crap. I just got so excited. And yes, they know that you fucked Laura, too — and that makes it everyone but them." She kissed him for a moment, then whispered in his ear. "I guess I screwed up. But I didn't expect Ann to practically attack you like that." She thought for a moment, then giggling said, "I guess the only way out is for you to lick their pussies. That way they get satisfied and you still won't have fucked them."

Jeff glanced at the girls, "That isn't much better. What if their fathers still find out? Shit, I don't want them mad at me. And I promised to take care of their girls."

Diana smiled at him. "Darling, you will be taking care of them. They're going to be hurt if you don't do something, not to mention walking around horny as hell."

"Diana, I can't keep fucking every damn woman in the world. I love you, and you're my wife. I keep expecting you to have a come-apart about all this."

"Come, maybe. Not come-apart," she whispered back, rocking gently while massaging his now stiffening cock with her pussy. "And you won't be fucking them — well, not with your cock, anyway."

As Jeff started to reply, Laura tapped Diana on the shoulder with a fingertip, breaking into their whispered conversation. "When you stand up, you better use this if you don't want that white foamy stuff floating in the water like you said," handing Diana a washcloth.

Diana kissed her husband again, then stood, quickly catching most of the gush with the cloth.

Melissa, Jennie, and Arlene, seeing that Jeff and Diana had separated, came over from the other end of the giant tub and started tussling with Jeff, trying to duck him, making sure he got rubbed with lots of titties. Jeff looked at Diana and winked. Before Jennie realized what he was doing, he flipped her out of the tub onto the mat beside it, immediately burying his face between her legs. She giggled and thrashed until his tongue hit her button. A few swipes of his tongue later, her legs clamped hard against his head as her ass lifted off the mat. The first little orgasm was immediately followed by another stronger, prolonged one. Jeff licked her pussy for a long while, enjoying watching her titties jiggle, until her legs released his head and she slumped back onto the mat.

He didn't even have to fake wrestle with Melissa, she was lying beside Jennie waiting, and if moist pussy was any sign, she was boiling. By the time he finished with her, his tongue felt like it had strained a muscle, but the girls were hanging onto him as they all started back into the house, rubbing their breasts against his upper arms.

Someone finally mentioned that Jeff's dick was hard, and Jennie quickly dropped to her knees in front of him. He slumped against the door when Jennie's warm mouth surrounded him, and sucked. She definitely had experience. She sucked so hard her cheeks concaved, stroking the base with her hand as she slid her tightened lips back and forth, making his balls anxious to get into the act. Nothing like a beautiful teenager looking up at you as she sucks your dick,  he thought, just as she winked at him. He wasn't trying to hold back, and he wasn't sure it would have mattered if he had been with all the stimulus he had in the tub, plus the pussy licking. At any rate, the wink was all it took. His prostate cramped, and his dick stung as the sperm headed for the vacuum those beautiful lips and mouth were producing.

Jennie made an "Uuurp..." then a gagging sound, and swallowed just before the second gush got there. Her eyes got big as she swallowed several more times. She handled the last couple of spurts better. Popping her mouth off him, she sat back on the deck with a stunned look on her face.

Arlene leaned over and gently sucked and kissed the head of his dick as a couple more drops of semen dripped out of the hole. "You missed some," she teased Jennie.

"I didn't know he came that much," Jennie mused, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Boy, you guys better not miss your birth control," she added, stumbling to her feet, and giving Jeff's deflating penis a squeeze as Arlene released it with her mouth.

-------

Later that afternoon, Diana, Laura, Jeff and the girls sat at one of the kitchen tables. Jeff had put on shorts and a golf shirt, but the females had apparently decided to tease him. They had on shorts, but no tops. The mood was light with a lot of teasing going on. Jeff retold the story of Laura "making fools" of the engineers at Wainwright by finding their missing decimal. He embellished the story shamelessly, while Laura tried to get him to quit. By the time he was through, everyone was laughing.

The girls decided to have a tournament in the game room. Melissa made sure Jeff got a good titty rub before she went bouncing out with the other three teenagers.

"Whew," Jeff sighed, "It sure did get quiet in here all of a sudden."

"With as much come as you put out on the deck, I'm surprised you're still conscious, let alone can complain about noise," Laura said, half seriously.

A look of contemplation settled on Diana's face as she slowly turned her empty coffee cup in her hands. Noticing, Jeff asked, "What's the matter, Babe? You're looking really serious there," he said, trying to tease a smile out of her.

"Yeah, I just had a thought. Well, I guess you could say, maybe, a lot of thoughts that just came together. Why do you come so much, Jeff?"

"Are you complaining?" he asked, trying to keep the mood light. Shit, I know she is smart, but I didn't expect her to start putting things together about my come.

"Don't try to sidetrack me," she said looking him in the eye. "Why do you come so much?" There was no doubt that she was serious now.

"Well, I, uh ... I guess it's all the stimulation. I mean, uh, you and Arlene, then Ann, then Laura, then..."

Starting to get up, Laura said, "Well, it's definitely time for me to go. If I'm..."

"Sit down, Laura," Diana said, distractedly, "this involves you too. Nobody is mad at you, and you're part of this family now."

"Diana, what has gotten you so serious about how much I come. We've been married sixteen years..."

"Exactly. And yes, you have just started fucking my brains out since we've been here, but even before, I had noticed that you came more. You would always go in the bathroom to pull the rubber off, and I could hear the come land in the water. I don't think the rubber let it all come out of you until you got rid of the condom. But I guess I hadn't sucked you off in a long time, and you weren't really excited when you made love to me." As Jeff started to say something, Diana shushed him. "How much do you come now? A pint?"

Jeff started laughing, but as Diana's frown deepened, he stopped. "That's ridiculous. Sure, I come a little more than I used to. I'm stimulated all the time. There are probably not many people that get to fuck a beautiful mother and daughter combination. Let alone two mother and daughter combinations." Jeff was proud of himself for that comeback, but the feeling didn't last long.

Diana glared at him, unimpressed. "Suck him off Laura. I'll get a measuring cup while you do."

Laura started laughing as Jeff blustered, but when Diana set the cup on the table with a thump, Laura stopped laughing and stared at her. Jeff stared as well, and he looked like he was having a hard time keeping his mouth from falling open.

While they stared, Diana sat back down and continued. "While you were gone, I pulled out some snapshots we took of each other a few years ago. Actually, I was looking for a picture of my husband to test out my new vibrator with. I knew you were, or would soon be, fucking Laura, and I was hot. But I wanted to see your face. Anyway, I got to looking through our pictures. I found our beach pictures from Pensacola. Then I found a good closeup of Arlene and I sitting on the deck of that beach restaurant. That was right after my twenty-fifth birthday. I've had a small mole on my neck all my life. I've always hated it, but never got around to having it taken off."

Jeff took a sip of cold coffee and stared at the table, trying not to look at her neck. Shit.

Diana got up and poured fresh coffee for all three. Sitting back down, she continued, "That mole is gone now. I had Arlene take a digital of me. I printed it out on your good printer, the same size as the beach picture — five by seven." She took a sip of coffee, and watched her husband avoid her eyes. Whacking the table, she watched him jump. "I look like my younger sister, now, except I don't have a sister, younger or not. I look, maybe, twenty in the picture Arlene took yesterday, and I looked twenty-five in the picture you took five years ago, which was my age. And I've never heard of a mole going away — ever."

Laura did not know where this was going — she wanted to be anywhere else, but even so, she couldn't help but look stunned, then contemplative.

Jeff again started to speak, but was interrupted by his wife, "Hush, Jeff. Don't you lie to me. And I know you're going to if you answer me right now. It pisses me off when you lie to me. I'm tired of hearing 'training exercises' and other such bullshit. And, yeah, I know that's what the military told you to say, and everything was a big secret. Hell, everything is a secret with the military. And I know you're going to say that maybe the mole just went away. Bull shit. And how did I get younger looking. I've certainly never heard of that happening."

Diana's face changed for a second. "You're still in the military, aren't you," she said, more statement than question.

"Diana, dammit..."

"You are. I can see it in your face. Or you're working for the government, somehow."

"Diana. You know that if I were, I couldn't tell you. You know that."

Diana took a slurp of her coffee, although she never slurped anything. She seemed not to notice that she had not put cream and sweetener in. Coffee sloshed out of the cup as her hand shook, causing her to frown, but she just stared at her husband.

Laura started to ease out of her chair. "Sit, please,  Laura," she said, quietly, putting the cup down and wiping her hand with a napkin. Then, still very quietly, she continued, seeming to catalog things as they occurred to her. "I broke my ankle a couple of years ago — completely through. The doctors said it was a very bad break, (duhh) and that particular area would normally have a very poor blood supply, which was one of the reasons that a break would take months to heal there, if it ever did properly. They x-rayed the ankle after just a month, because I had raised hell for two weeks telling them it was healed. I knew my ankle was healed, and it was — totally. They couldn't even find where the break was on the x-ray. When the doctor took the cast off and I stood and walked without even a limp, he just kept telling me how lucky I was. It was obvious he was shocked out of his mind, but didn't have a clue."

Jeff kept eying the measuring cup on the table, as if he might be a little afraid of it. "Honey, you're getting yourself worked up over nothing."

"Jeff, if you keep on, I'm going to be ashamed of you. You're still denying, and in addition, you're trying to distract me. You're insulting my logic and my intelligence. I don't have your IQ," she stumbled, her eyes misting, "but I'm smart enough to have put things together, finally. So just hush, and let me finish. If all I'm saying is wrong, then you can show me why, and I'll apologize for my foolishness."

She took another sip of the coffee, frowned, and stirred in cream and sweetener, taking her time. Jeff and Laura just sat. Neither lifted their eyes from the table.

At her leisure, Diana continued, "My ankle hurt like hell for the first two days after I broke it. If I remember right, you suddenly just had to, right then, go on a short trip for an 'engineering job' for a couple of days. When you got back — well, I can't remember the ankle hurting again. I told you. Heck, I told everybody who would listen, that it had quit hurting. It had hurt so badly, and the damned pain pills did practically nothing, that when it quit hurting, I wanted everybody to know. Now that I'm thinking about it, I remember stumbling on the crutches and slamming my foot down a day of so after you got back. I was scared to death that I had broken the ankle again, but it didn't hurt. I kept expecting it to start hurting for several minutes after I stumbled, but it never did."

Diana took another sip of coffee, seeming to become more assured of herself. Picking up her cigarettes and lighter, she sat up straight, delicately lit the cigarette and blew the smoke directly at Jeff. Beginning to smirk a little, she pulled on the cigarette again, this time blowing the smoke toward the ceiling. Putting the cigarette in the ashtray, she suddenly reached over and hit her husband, hard, in his right upper arm.

With the loud smack, Jeff flinched. Laura jumped like she was shot. Diana rubbed her hand, reflectively. "You've always worked out, Jeff. Karate, running, some weights, but your body is hard as a rock now, harder by far than it has ever been. You're not body builder blown out, but your muscles are almost like they're pumped all the time. Your whole body is hard as a rock, and I'm not talking about your dick; although, it does seem to stay that way most of the time. And you look younger too. Maybe not as young as me, but you haven't aged much lately. Remember, I've got some pictures of you, too."

Turning to Laura, she said, "Suck him off. Catch it in the cup. I want to see how much he comes."

"What..." Laura and Jeff strangled out almost in unison.

"You do it," Diana said, grinning, "or I'll have Melissa come in here and do it. She was griping that she didn't get to suck him off, and Jennie did."

"Look, Diana, this has gone on long enough. Besides, I probably wouldn't have much at all, it's only been..."

"Thirty minutes. I timed it. And about thirty minutes before that when you came so nicely in me."

It was obvious that Laura wasn't going to do the honors, so Diana got up and tapped in the living room code on the intercom. "Melissa," she called. "Come do something for me."

Diana stepped to the kitchen door, and pushing it open, watched Melissa come running down the hall. Diana had to admit that Melissa's titties looked nice as they bounced. With a questioning look on her face, Melissa walked into the kitchen as Diana held the door for her.

Very sweetly, Diana said, "We've got a little discussion going as to how much my husband comes. I thought that since you mentioned that you got left out, you might want to help us find out just how much he does come."

Melissa saw the measuring cup on the table, and Jeff and Laura just sitting there. Her face, neck and bare breasts started to flush as she realized what the cup was for.

"Diana, you're embarrassing her. She doesn't want to do this..." Jeff tried.

"Oh, yes I do," Melissa quickly broke in. "I would rather it was a little less, uh, clinical. But I'll still do it," she finished, starting to grin.

Jeff's face flushed as his temper rose. "Diana, damn ... I, uh..."

Interrupting, Diana put her hands on her hips. "Don't you hurt her feelings, Jeff Matthews." Turning to Melissa, she instructed, "He's just a man, and he gets a bit uptight about some things. Just stick a titty in his mouth, and his dick will do the rest."

Jeff tried to stare daggers at his wife, but Melissa giggled and stuck her breast against his face. With one last desperate glance at his wife, he took the nipple into his mouth. Melissa sighed.

Jeff's resistance went to practically nothing as soon as the nipple passed his lips. When his dick was hard, Diana got him to stand against the wall so she could get a better angle with the cup. "Suck him, Baby," she said to Melissa, who had already dropped to her knees and pushed her lips around the swollen head. "Suck hard. Make it good for him. I want every drop he's got."

Melissa had been well instructed by her dad. She pumped the base of Jeff's dick with one hand, while she very gently pulled her nails across the bottom of his balls. Cupping her tongue around the underside of his dick, she sucked hard, deliberately hollowing her cheeks as she looked up at him. Jeff groaned.

"Jeff, don't you dare hold off. I know you can go all day if you want to, but don't you do it now."

"Wink at him," Jennie said. This was the first that they noticed that the rest of the girls were now in the kitchen. "He likes that."

Melissa did, and Jeff trembled and groaned again. Diana grabbed her husband's dick away from a complaining Melissa, and pumped it a few times, hard, while she held the cup capped over the head. They all watched a thick, hard stream gush into the cup as Jeff shuddered. Then three more even longer-lasting streams, with a last dribble. Diana milked another couple of spoonfuls out of a shaking Jeff, then turned his dick loose to flop against his leg as she held the cup up, triumphantly.

Melissa took his penis back into her mouth and lovingly sucked the last few drops out, sighing.

"A half cup. Three times in an hour and the last time he comes a half cup, Diana crowed."

They all stared at Jeff as if he had done something wrong. "Hey, it's not quite a half cup," he managed to get out before they all started laughing.

"I'm going to fix dinner," Diana announced, putting the sperm cup in the middle of the table as the sniggering died down. "Who wants to help me?"

Everyone stared at the cup sitting innocuously on the table.

"I will," Laura said, still trying to stifle another snigger.

"I'm going to take a shower," Jeff announced, as if it were important, barely managing not to stagger out the door. The girls were soon gone, also.

"I wonder how many can fit into that shower?" Laura asked a few minutes later, opening one of the freezers.

"I don't know how many will fit, but I'll bet there are five in there now. I'll also bet my husband comes to dinner more wobbly-kneed than when he just left," Diana chortled. "Then, again, there might just be some sore girls sitting at the dinner table."

"I know one person, that is still very sore from last night," Laura laughed. "I don't think I could stand him sticking that thing in me again tonight, no matter how much I wanted it. It's all I can do to not walk like that duck they keep kidding about."

They giggled like teenagers as they began meal preparations.



-------

Chapter 19

Three quarters of an hour later, fully clothed, they were all sitting around the larger of the kitchen tables. Diana looked at her husband and smiled. The girls all looked smug. Jeff looked a bit traumatized. He had never sat at a dinner table with a cup of sperm sitting in the middle looking like some kind of obtuse decoration.

"Diana, uh..." he began, looking at the cup.

"What's the matter, Darling? I drink it almost daily these days. What's wrong with a little sperm sitting on the table?"

Jeff glanced at his wife, only to see her smile sweetly at him. Shit, every time she smiles like that, I think about the cat that ate the canary and still had feathers sticking out of its mouth. What is she up to? And how in the hell am I going to get this stopped before I get into an even bigger pile of trouble?

The sniggering teenage girls didn't help a bit. At least Laura is trying not to laugh. The semen had gradually turned to a semi-clear, thick liquid.

Somehow, dinner was finally over. "Darling, you really didn't eat as much as you usually do. Don't you want another helping? Wasn't the food good?"

Crap. The only thing she left out was something about keeping up my strength. But the way everybody is grinning, they got the innuendo, anyway. "No, Sweetheart. Everything was delicious, and I ate plenty."

Diana began picking up the plates, but she and Laura were shooed out of the kitchen as the girls took over cleanup.

Laura started for her apartment, but Diana grabbed her hand, then followed Jeff into the living room. When Jeff sat down, Diana sat in his lap. Laura picked up the remote, but didn't turn on the TV yet; just sat down to wait.

"No use getting uptight, Sweetie," Diana said as she lightly kissed Jeff's lips. "I'm done for now. But don't you ever lie to me again. I don't like you doing this, whatever it is. But if you have to go, just say you're going. Don't call it an engineering trip."

"Baby, all but a very few of those trips were just what I said they were. And I did not have a choice."

Diana let the subject drop. She and Laura watched TV for a while. Finally, Diana punched Jeff in the ribs. "Get up and go to bed, we can't hear the TV for your snoring."

Jeff mumbled something about not snoring, but left for the bedroom.

Muting the TV, Laura looked over at Diana. "You got me to thinking with the measuring, and the other things you talked about." Hesitating a moment, she continued, "What are you going to do about his two latest conquests?"

"You mean Jennie and Melissa?" Lighting a cigarette, Diana looked at Laura. "Oh, they're just having a good time. They're not conquests, at least not the way I think you mean. Jeff won't fuck them."

"Okay. I'll put it like this. Did Arlene act differently after she got her first dose of Jeff's sperm?"

Taking another pull on the cigarette, Diana answered, "Well, you know she did. I mean, she fucked her dad. That's not exactly the same relationship they had before," understating the obvious.

"Yeah," Laura sighed, "She undoubtedly loved her dad before, but she's in love with him now. And so is my daughter — not to mention me. And yes, I loved him before, have for years, but not like now. It's almost unbelievable how much I love him. When he fucked me the first night, I passed out and he didn't come in me. The second night, he did, and I knew. And maybe some of it is just primordial instinct to submit to the male of the species. But I think it's more. I sure haven't had that instinct with anyone else."

Laura let the silence remain as she stared at the carpet as if she found something fascinating there, then looking at her friend, "Have you ever told Jeff no? I mean about sex. Just flat out told him you didn't want it?"

Diana took a long pull off the cigarette, then put it out in the ashtray. Pushing herself back in the recliner, she glanced at Laura, "Turn off the TV. I don't know where you're going with this, but I can't concentrate with that thing on."

Laura picked up the remote and shut off the TV. "You're stalling. Have you ever told your husband no?"

"We've been married sixteen years, and he's never really fucked me until we came out here. I've told him that I didn't want to make love before, though."

"I'm not talking about that. Heck, I can see he's changed, but do you mean to tell me he never fucked you before? Just bent you over the bed, the table, a chair, or something, and fucked the shit out of you?"

"Oh, I guess we've used most of the positions, particularly after Arlene was born and we were still in our teens — but not like what you're talking about. Not before, that is."

Diana caught her friend's eye. "Look Laura, Jeff is big. You know that. The first time, in the car, when I lost my virginity, it hurt really bad. All through my pregnancy, even very gentle sex hurt. I now know that happens to some women while they are pregnant. I guess I was one of them. But he continued to make gentle love to me when we started back after the baby was born. We were both virgins when we conceived Arlene. I never had anyone else before Jack raped me, or seduced me, or whatever you call it. Jeff swears that I was the only one before Arlene, when she and I cooked up our little scheme to distract him from leaving me."

Diana picked up the lighter and turned it round and round in her hand, thinking. "Why would you ask such a question? All wives, over time, probably tell their husbands, no. Sometimes a woman just isn't in the mood. I've told him no and meant it twice since we moved out here."

"What happened? And toss me the cigarettes and lighter."

"When did you start smoking?" Diana asked, a grin teasing her lips as she handed Laura the pack and lighter.

"I've smoked one of your cigarettes from time to time," Laura answered, smirking a little.

"Bullshit, you've decided to tease Jeff with his fetish. Did he say something to you about it, or was it just my talking about it?"

Laura told Diana about the conversation in the car.

"What did he do when you lit the cigarette?"

"Blushed. Oh, you should have seen him. Then he tried not to look at me, but I know he did."

Both women were quiet for a moment. "Are you mad at me Diana? I guess I went too far, huh? I won't do the cigarette thing again. I'm sorry. She put the cigarettes and lighter on a table."

Diana looked at her friend and burst out laughing. "No, no. You misinterpreted my expression. I think it's hilarious. Oh, I don't mean Jeff's fetish. Heck, I kinda like to do it, now that Jack got me started with it — certainly now that my husband likes it. I've even looked at myself in the mirror holding a cigarette in my hand, you know, holding my hand up, trying to look haughty, as Jeff calls it. I see what he means. And Arlene is damn good at it. You won't make me mad doing it. If that's what my man wants, he's sure going to get it."

Laura felt relieved, and showed it. "Thanks, I guess I'm still scared to death that you're going to change your mind about Jeff and me making love, and tell me to get out of your house."

Diana popped off the recliner and pulled Laura to her feet. As Diana put her arms around Laura and hugged her tight, Laura suddenly hugged her back. After a little time, Diana pushed back and looked at Laura. "I don't want you worrying about that. It makes me feel really bad to think you have been. We've never fought. We have always gotten along, just like our girls. No matter what happens, this is your home. And it always will be. I don't back out on deals, and Jeff certainly doesn't. I knew what would happen when I first thought about you being Jeff's assistant."

"Thanks," Laura quietly said.

Diana took Laura's hand and led her to the couch. They sat, turned a little so they could face each other, with Diana still holding Laura's hand. "I've known for years that you love him. I've seen the way you looked at him when you thought no one was watching." When Laura started to interrupt, Diana shushed her. "Oh, you hid it well. But the times I tried to set you up with someone, I noticed that if Jeff was around, you nixed the idea instantly. Plus, the few men you did let get into your pants couldn't make you come. Remember, you bitched about that one guy having too much to drink and fucking you 'half the night' because he couldn't get his rocks off — if I remember the expression you used — but you didn't come once. That's the last guy you were with, isn't it?"

At Laura's nod, Diana grinned. "The way I was before, I just couldn't share him. I guess I couldn't break out of society's conventions, or I would have told him to make love to you. I was jealous, then not jealous, back and forth, when Arlene started fucking him. I won't say it won't come back at all, especially when my PMS hits, and I am going to be number one female around here, period. But I'm not going to start bitching about your smoking to tease him, or fucking him, or plopping down in his lap and kissing him whenever you decide to. You don't have to walk on eggs around me. So just stop acting like a whipped pup."

Diana leaned over and kissed Laura on the mouth for a second. Standing up and going over to the table where Laura had put the cigarettes, Diana said, "If you're going to do it, I'll show you a couple of things that I think he likes."

After a demonstration, and playing around with the cigarettes for a while, both women looked at each other and broke up laughing. Diana started giggling and then couldn't stop, which triggered Laura. When they finally wore themselves out, Diana sat sprawled out on the couch waving air in her face with a magazine.

"All right," Laura said, "that was sure fun, but let's get back to the no you told him after you moved out here. What did he do?"

"Fucked me until I thought he was going to drive my womb out through my throat," Diana laughed.

When Diana didn't immediately elaborate, Laura looked exasperated. "Come on, tell me about it."

"Okay, I guess, but I was really pissed about it for a while." At Laura's questioning look Diana sighed and continued. "The first day the girls were here, they were decorating the living room for Arlene's birthday party. I'm sure my daughter had already filled them in about Jeff fucking her, because shortly they were all braless and making sure their titties bounced and jiggled as much as possible. Jeff really got a show. I guess I got a little jealous because when he told me how hard it was not to get a hard-on, well, one thing led to another and he fucked me leaning against the kitchen counter. That's when Ann caught us. That was definitely a no time."

"Did you just tell him no and he went on anyway, or what?"

"Well, I guess so. I mean I even tried — hard — to slap him. He just rammed in dry, fucked the crap out of me, and yanked on my nipples until I came."

Grinning, Laura asked, "Was there another time?"

"About the same thing," Diana said in an odd voice. "I was bitching at him again about watching titties, when he put me on my knees, grabbed the back of my head, and crammed his dick down my throat."

"What did you do?"

"After I got through strangling, he made me pull on my nipples, and I came."

"Were those two times it for sixteen years?"

"I guess the first time was when Arlene and I set him up. When it didn't work, Arlene sort of sent me out of the room, then sent Jeff to fuck me — not make love to me — but to fuck me."

Laura laughed. "Yeah, you told me about that. How many times did you come?"

"I don't know. A bunch. I passed out."

"And you never told him no before this?"

"Well, sure I did, but that's back when he only made love to me. He usually just ignored me for awhile, or if we were in bed, he just held me in his arms and went to sleep."

"Diana. If Jeff walked in here right now, unzipped his pants, pulled his dick out, stuck it in your face and said 'suck it, ' what would you do?"

"You know I would suck it. Look, Miss Psychoanalyst, I know I've changed. Jack fucked me until I fainted, and my husband saw the tapes. You know that, too. I had to change if I wanted to keep him."

Seeing that Diana was getting stressed, Laura squeezed her hand. "I know you've changed, but I think you have changed a little more than you realize. And I think that Jeff has changed more than either of you realize. Ever heard of an Alpha Male?"

"Oh, come on Laura, that's an overused, worn out catchphrase for someone that is an asshole. Jeff is a really nice person. He's just changed a little about sex. I pushed him into it by acting like such a slut in the playroom when Jack fucked me with Jeff watching. Jeff even calls it the 'Jack approach.'"

Laura shrugged. "Maybe you're right, but then again I think that old adage about not being able to see the forest for the trees would be very appropriate right now. Since you're so close to Jeff, I mean you were with him all the time he was home — still are — you just haven't noticed how much you have changed. But, looking back, I think I can see a pattern that's been developing for the last couple of years. But I noticed that he had become more sure of himself, and heck, we both know he was a type 'A' personality to begin with. Like you mentioned about his body, he's changed, and not all at once. I've always gotten wet when he touched me, or even got near me for any length of time, but for the last year or so, I really didn't trust myself around him."

Diana grinned at her friend. "You don't have to trust yourself now. Just go for it."

Laura smiled back. "Thanks, more than you will ever know." Hesitating a moment, she continued, "When we were in that restaurant and he told me he was going to carry me back to the hotel, bend me over and fuck me, I almost came just hearing him say it. I don't even remember what we ate. We were in this beautiful, expensive restaurant that I could never afford, and I don't remember what we ate. Diana, the man has changed, I tell you, and I don't mean just coming a gallon, either."

"Gallon?" Diana said, giggling.

"Oh, you know what I mean. You started this in the kitchen. I'm telling you the man is a fucking Alpha Male."

"Okay. Okay. I was just teasing," Diana quickly responded. "I didn't mean to piss you off. So what do we do?"

Laura shrugged. "Heck, I don't know. I haven't gotten that far with my little theory," she laughed. "I guess we lie down and spread our legs when he walks by. Or maybe get on our hands and knees and stick our asses in the air. He's come in us; we don't have a choice."

"Do what?"

Laura looked straight at her friend. "I guess I don't have any way to prove it, but I think that once our Alpha Male puts a load of come in us, we belong to him. You don't realize it because, whatever the change was, it was gradual with you. But I'm telling you, I felt the change. I loved him. I didn't think I could love him more. When he came in me, it was wonderful. But in a few minutes, I was his."

Diana had an odd look on her face. Quietly she said, "He's used a condom for the last couple of years, and I hadn't sucked him off in a long time until we came out here. I wonder..." As she looked up at Laura, Diana could see the beginning of tears in Laura's eyes. "I know you love him, and I love you, too. But don't go overboard with this." Strengthening her voice, "I don't believe in this Alpha Male shit."

Laura wiped at her eyes. "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating things, but mark my words, you're going to have problems when Melissa and Jennie have to leave."

"Why? Oh, I know they're going to hate to leave. But even if your idea is for real, Jeff didn't come in them. They're just going to hate leaving their friends."

"Obviously, I don't know if it is the come, or some psychological aspect of his coming in us. But, I don't think the come has to, necessarily, be in a vagina. They both sucked him off. Jennie got a whole load. She almost strangled. And Melissa got a little in the kitchen, probably more in the shower. She looked determined when she left the kitchen. Even if she didn't, she is bound to before they leave. Both of them are, or will be, in love with Jeff by the time they leave. Didn't you see the way they were looking at him at the table? The only reason they haven't fucked him is that he won't. And no matter how determined he is, they're probably just as determined to get that big dick of his up them before they have to leave."

"Oh, shit, Laura, this is far out." After a moment of silence, Diana sighed, deep in thought. "I sure hope you're wrong."

"I hope so, too, but I'm not. And momma and daddy will wonder why their girls suddenly fell in love with Jeff while they were out here. Particularly the daddies, since they're fucking their daughters. They might be just a wee mite jealous. And I'll bet my left nipple that when they go home, Daddy won't get any more pussy from them."

They looked at each other for a moment, then Laura quietly said, "Di, we need to talk to Jeff."

-------

They could hear the squeals when they opened the door to the sitting room of their suite. With a sinking feeling, Diana walked across and pushed the bedroom door the rest of the way open, fearing that Jennie and Melissa had managed to seduce Jeff into fucking them. She sighed with relief when she realized it was Arlene riding Jeff's dick. She thought how ironic it was that she was glad it was her daughter that was riding her husband's cock.

Jeff was on his back, hands clasped behind his head, enjoying the view and the tight pussy of the bouncing teenager astraddle his dick.

"Hi, Mom," Arlene gasped out, still bouncing. "I've come eleven times, and I'm going for twenty," obviously nearing her next orgasm, if the gasping and shivering were any indication.

Diana leaned over and kissed her husband. "Finish her off, Jeff. We need to talk."

"What?" Jeff asked, as Arlene squealed and thrashed wildly, chalking up number twelve.

"Finish her off," Diana repeated, louder. "We have to talk."

"Diana, I..." Jeff started, grabbing his daughter's hips before she tore his dick off with her gyrations.

"Finish her off, Jeff. And don't play dumb with me."

"Oh, all right," he grumbled, clamping down on his daughter's hips with his hands, taking over control. A couple of minutes later, Arlene screamed until she ran out of air, then collapsed. Jeff, groaning, stroked a couple more times, his daughter's shivering body riding his chest, before he relaxed.

Laura had to force herself to breathe. She was so hot that she had almost come with Jeff.

Laura grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, and as Diana rolled Arlene off her Dad, she capped the cloth over Arlene's pussy. The girl lay unmoving, semiconscious.

"She's going to be pissed," Jeff complained as he caught a washcloth thrown by Laura and began cleaning his dick. "She was counting orgasms."

"She's made more than twenty before," Diana laughed. "She can break her personal record some other time."

Diana looked at her daughter, her upper body flushed a deep pink, sweat beading on her forehead. Returning to the bathroom, she wet another cloth, and brought it and a towel to the bedroom. Sitting by her daughter, she wiped Arlene's face, arms, and upper body with the cloth, then dried her. By the time she was finished, Arlene was ready to accept the glass of water Laura offered her.

"Drink up, and take off for awhile, Baby. I need to talk to your dad."

Arlene frowned as she finished the water, then looked her mother in the eye. "Since when do I have to leave when the adults talk? I thought you said I was to be included in discussions these days. Have I suddenly regained little girl status?"

"Arlene, this isn't the time..." Diana began, but Laura broke in.

"She probably needs to be part of this, Diana. She might have some ideas that would help."

"Hey, what's going on?" Jeff said, sitting up. "What's happened?"

Diana gathered up the washcloths and towels, and stepping toward the alcove, tossed them onto the counter. "Nothing, Dear."

"'Nothing, Dear, '" Jeff mimicked. "I know I'm in a world of crap now."

"Oh, hush, Jeff," Diana said, repressing a giggle, returning to sit beside Arlene. "Nobody is impressed."

"So, I get to stay with the adults," Arlene sarcastically said.

Diana frowned at her daughter as Laura kicked her shoes off and snuggled on the other side of Jeff, wishing her top was off so she could press her breasts against his bare side. "Yeah, you can stay. And I shouldn't have said that. Old habits. I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Mom," as Arlene squeezed her mother's hand.

Arlene sat up and scrunched against Jeff's other side, looking at Diana expectantly. Diana found that she didn't have the foggiest idea what to say.

"I don't know how to start..."

"Simple," Laura broke in. "Jeff, the Alpha Male, you obviously, have shared your semen with every female in this house — taken possession of them. In a couple of days, two of those females are going to have to go home. There is going to be hell to pay. It's time to start some serious planning."

Jeff tried to turn enough to stare at Laura. "What in the world are you talking about? This isn't going to be another measuring expedition, is it?"

"Don't start blustering, Jeff. You're far from being stupid," Diana almost hissed out, indignantly. "Something is going on. And Laura might just be right. As wild as it sounds, she says she felt a change in herself shortly after you came in her. She wasn't just in love with you. She became yours. If she's right, those girls may feel the same way. It's obvious that Ann does. But Jennie and Melissa have to go home. If they have the same feeling, there are going to be problems."

Into the silence that followed, Arlene interjected, "I didn't say anything. I thought I was nuts, but I felt the same way after I woke up after Dad fucked me unconscious. I was already feeling different after I rode you for the first time, Daddy," she said, looking lovingly at her father. "But things got kinda stressed out about then," she smiled. "But by the second time I knew, just like Laura said. I was yours. I don't know how else to say it. I..." She stopped and just looked at her father, then looked at the other two women in turn.

Jeff cleared his throat. "Come on people, let's not exaggerate things too far. We all love each other, and making love, or fucking, as the case may be, is a whole lot on the personal side. We all feel differently after the first time with someone. The woman isn't the only one that feels different after the man injects his seed into his female."

Diana grinned, "'His' female might have been a Freudian slip there, Mr. Alpha."

"Ah, Diana, shit," Jeff glared.

Diana smirked. "Okay, my little joke may have fallen flat. You may just be right, Honey, but there are three females in this room that, apparently, feel the same way about you. Heck, I'm your wife; I'm supposed to feel like I belong to you. It's always been a great feeling, but Laura and Arlene say they feel like they belong to you, too. And we don't even have to ask Ann. She almost had hysterics the next morning just thinking about going home and leaving you."

Jeff just shut up, his face turning gray. Oh, crap. If they only knew. Shit, I didn't expect this.

"Did you fuck Melissa or Jennie?" Diana interjected into Jeff's thoughts.

"You know I didn't," he snapped, indignantly.

"Easy, Tiger," she grinned, rubbing his leg. "Just thinking out loud. Well, I guess the next thing to consider, assuming that Laura's theory is right," she said nodding at her friend, "is whether your come has to go into a woman's vagina to make her yours."

Jeff almost flinched. "You gave up too easily, Hon," Diana half teased, miming a kiss at her husband. "You know it just might be possible don't you?"

"Look, Diana, don't read something into my actions, or lack thereof, that isn't there. I'm..."

"Oh, hush, Jeff. You're going to keep on until you lie to me and piss me off."

Jeff clamped his mouth shut before he got in any deeper.

Diana could see his jaw muscles occasionally knot. A sure sign that he was thinking intensely, something she had never told him that she knew about.

"All right," Laura sighed, "What do we do to test our theory?"

"It's your theory," Diana almost snapped, but quickly followed with, "And, yeah, I'm beginning to believe it too."

"Oh, shit," Arlene quietly said.

After a moment, Diana looked up at her husband. "Did both girls get your load, or just Jennie?"

Jeff let out his breath. "Melissa got me in the shower. She said it wasn't fair. You caught it in the cup and she didn't get much..."

"Should we just ask them, Mother?" Arlene asked.

Diana thought for a minute, but as she started to respond, Laura broke in, sitting up a little more. "Let's just get them aside, and tell them to get all their clothes washed up so there won't be a big rush to get everything ready for them to go home day after tomorrow. That should stir things up if the sperm took."

Standing, Diana motioned to Laura. "Let's go do it. And Arlene, leave your father alone. We might need another discussion after this, if Laura is right."

-------

Ten minutes later, Jeff and Arlene had cleaned up a little and put their clothes back on. Jeff opened the bedroom door, only to be bowled over by Melissa and Jennie. All three wound up on the floor with the girls hugging him so tightly that they seemed to be trying to become part of him. Both were sobbing uncontrollably.

When Jeff glanced up, Laura just looked at him. She didn't have to say, "I told you so." Shit, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. And my damn dick is getting hard.

-------

It was well after midnight. Jeff had decided that these last hours, next to combat, had been the worst in his life. The family, everyone, had hashed out a plan of action. It was piss poor at best, Jeff knew, and might even land him in jail, but it was all they had. I knew I shouldn't have gotten into that tub. The thing that all of them can't comprehend is that this thing goes both ways. Something changes in me too. Diana has always said that I take responsibility too far, but I do feel responsible for those girls. I'm the one that caused this. I could have walked off that deck, but my little head got the best of me again. Shit. Their fathers are going to get hurt, or the girls or going to get hurt. What choice do I have?

Diana walked into the kitchen where Jeff sat alone, a cold cup of coffee in front of him.

Oh, my. He looks so sad. If I hadn't insisted that he get in that hot tub, this would not have happened. You're kidding yourself, girl. Sooner, or later those two would have gotten to Jeff. They have seen too much; talked to Arlene too much; been around Jeff too much. Right now things are very, very difficult. But my husband can pull this off if anyone can. Anyone.

Leaning over, Diana put her arms around her husband's head, pressing her breasts against him. As he turned, she lightly kissed his lips. "It will work, my darling. It will work. I'm not even going to say that I'm sorry for insisting that you get in the hot tub with the girls." Grinning, trying to lighten the situation, she continued, "You're going to wind up with two more, very beautiful, young females for your harem."

Sobering, she took his face in her hand, leaning down until her lips were almost touching his. "The first two came hard, too. You had to watch that son-of-a-bitch fuck us. Then you had to do all those things to clean up the mess I let get started. Laura and Ann came a lot easier, but there were bumps there, also. We have a plan that will work, but it might just leave some emotional scars, as well."

Picking up the coffee cup, she quipped, "I'm going to make a fresh pot of coffee. While it is making, I'm going to get ready for you. Then I'm going to suck your beautiful cock for a long time. Then we're going to go to bed and sleep late."

"Diana, Baby, I really appreciate your offering after all that has gone on tonight, but I'm just about sick with worry right now. Sex is the last thing on my mind."

Diana poured the old coffee out and rinsed the pot before she said anything. "And what good will all the worrying do? We have all, what's the word, brainstormed this, and we came up with a plan. More thinking won't do any good, and it will just add more worry and misery to an already heavy load. Oh, shit. No pun intended, Sweetheart."

Jeff grunted, but didn't say anything.

She measured out the coffee while the water was filling the pot. There was a final filter on the faucet that could be turned on or off. Coffee tasted much better if they used the filtered water, but it took about a minute to fill the coffeepot, since the filter slowed the water flow considerably. After pouring the water in the maker, she put the pot back in place for it to fill. "I'll be back in ten minutes, we'll drink a fresh cup, then I'll give you a blowjob. Maybe you'll be ready for bed then."

Jeff was so depressed he didn't even answer.

A while later, the door opened and Diana came in wearing a pair of black spikes, and nothing else. She had done a very light, quick job with her makeup. As she walked through the door, and Jeff looked up, she placed the cigarette in her mouth and pretended to look for the lighter just as she had done for Jack. I'm scared to death he'll think about Jack. I don't want to hurt my husband, I want to excite him. Catching herself, she admonished, Priss you stupid bimbo, don't slump. Strut for him. He keeps saying it isn't the cigarette but the strut that turns him on. Hold your back straight, shoulders back, tits out. Make them bounce for your man. Don't overdo it. Now get his coffee for him.

Holding the cigarette in her left hand, deliberately raising it a little higher than she normally would hold it, she poured two cups of coffee, then placing the unlit cigarette delicately in her lips, she carried the coffee to the table.

She put the cigarette in an ashtray, thinking he wasn't ready for the slut routine, just a bit of strut. "Drink up big man. You have the best blowjob of your life coming. Pun, definitely intended this time," she chortled, grinning.

A few minutes later, Diana took his hand and coaxed her husband to the living room. The night had cooled off, and Arlene had started a fire for her. Arlene had even arranged a recliner just where Diana wanted it. Turning the lights down a bit made the fire stand out more. She left the door cracked for the girls.

"Diana, Baby, you don't have to do this. You're just as tired as I am. I swear, I don't think I can get my dick up. I'm really, really tired."

She didn't pay any attention. In short order, his pants and shorts were on the floor. She strutted around for him a little more, then eased into the chair on top of him, dragging a breast repeatedly across his cock as it lay across his leg. It only took a few passes of her breast before his cock bumped her chin as she slid back down him. Sliding back up his body, she offered a nipple by rubbing it across his lips.

He sucked it into his mouth, then increased the suction. After a moment, he bit down slightly and stripped the nipple with his teeth, starting milk and her orgasm at the same time. Oh, crap. I didn't even know I was hot. This isn't for me. I want to please him,  she admonished herself.

Jeff immediately started after the other nipple, to give it equal time. The orgasm was even better.

When she could think again, she reluctantly pulled the squirting nipple from her husband's mouth and kissed her way to his cock. She forced herself to lick it, paying particular attention to the underside of the head. Oh, I want to shove that thing inside me, but I'm going to try out what I read. He's already gotten several blowjobs today, but I'm going to show him who the boss bitch is around here. Slut bitch, that is. It's going to be a while before you get your rocks off tonight, Big Boy.

Teasing, she laved his cock and balls, getting him to spread his legs so she could position herself between them. She tried to suck one of his balls into her mouth, but could not, because her mouth just wasn't big enough. Now when did that happen? I know I've gotten a ball into my mouth before. Semen comes from his prostate. Sperm comes from his balls. Looks like his balls have upped their capacity, too. Jennie was probably right. If we miss our birth control, there is going to be plenty of sperm looking for a home. She sucked on his balls, anyway, returning every now and then to suck on the head of his penis as well. After awhile, she took the base of his cock in her left hand, gently lifting his balls with the other, while increasing her suction on the head of his cock. Slightly moving her head up and down a couple of inches, she matched the movement with the hand at the base of his cock.

Jeff sighed and rocked his ass a little trying to get his dick deeper into her mouth. Increasing her suction still more, she gripped harder with her right hand and stroked harder with her left. Jeff groaned and opened his eyes to stare at her face as she glanced up at him every now and then.

Jeff suddenly realized that Jennie and Melissa were nude, seated in front of him. They were each in one of the chairs with their feet propped on footstools. Each was masturbating with a pink vibrator/dildo as they stared at him, watching him getting the blowjob.

Diana didn't have to see Jeff's face to know when he noticed the girls. His cock let her know quite clearly.

Diana hadn't seen any other men other than Jack and Arnie, so she wasn't an authority on ball sacks, but she did know that Jeff's hung down much lower and bigger than either of the other two men. It was easy to reach around the top of his sack and position her hand while dragging her nails teasingly across him.

Jeff never noticed when the stimulation of her hand turned into a gentle grip above his balls. He did notice when her mouth quit teasing and began sucking in earnest. He was already close to the edge, and that was all it took. But as his prostate cramped, and that wonderful feeling began, Diana pulled her mouth back, gripped hard on the base of his cock, and also with her hand holding the top of his ball sack.

The article said that squeezing against the tubes that took the sperm from his balls to the urethra would shut down a man's orgasm. If it doesn't work, I've just messed up a decent blowjob. It better work, I doubt if I can squeeze hard enough on the base of his dick to stop anything. She put pressure there with her thumb, anyway.

Jeff grunted, looked startled, shivered all over, and glared at his wife. He had raised his ass completely off the recliner trying to get his dick to her mouth. About a teaspoon of come seeped out of the slit in the head of his cock. Panting, the tension subsiding a little, he eased back down to the recliner.

Fighting not to giggle, hearing the girls giggling behind her, she maintained her grip above his balls as well as the one at the base of his cock. Fooled you that time, Big Boy. Now, let's see if we can do that another half dozen times.

Half an hour later, Jeff was nearly a basket case, and so horny he could fuck a goat. As the article said, she brought him up the last time, clamped down for a couple of seconds, then released, sucking for all she was worth, locking eyes with him. For a few seconds, she really did not think she would be able to swallow all of his load. It just kept coming. Jeff jerked his ass up so hard that his cock got away from her, wasting one long spurt that landed halfway to Jennie, before Diana managed to cap her mouth over the head and suck again.

Knowing he would be super sensitive after all the stimulation, she just held the head of his cock in her mouth, applying only very gentle suction until his breathing returned to something like normal.

"I..." he croaked, then, weakly, "Shit," complimenting her, anyway.

"Hush, Baby. I know. Just relax." She held his dick for a while longer, then gently milked it into her mouth, making sure she had drained everything. Releasing his deflated cock, she took his hand. "Come on, let's get you to bed." The girls stumbled after them, wet vibrators left in the chairs.

There were seven in the big bed that night. Diana didn't have the heart to tell anyone they had to leave, but she made sure it was her breasts nestled against his left side. She didn't care who went where, other than that. Jeff was out before the lights were turned off. Diana and the rest were close behind.



-------

Chapter 20

Jeff had to grin as the copilot came back into the cabin not five minutes after the plane leveled off. Wall to wall pussy, pal. Be a gentleman, and I'll let you look for a while. Look, but don't touch. Jeff admonished himself for his thoughts, but not much. He really couldn't blame the guy, though. There probably wasn't six females in a group on the planet that looked as good as these did.

Feeling sorry for him innocently trying to get a look, Jeff stood up and said, "You can have my seat. I need to talk a bit with the captain, anyway."

"Uh, no thanks, Sir. I was just going back to the restroom."

Oh, crap. He's actually blushing. Every female in the plane knows he came back here to see them. And he knows they know.

"Sit down," Jeff insisted, catching Kathy's eye. "The one beautiful woman you already have on this plane, plus the six I brought with me would do it to a dead man," he teased, not specifying what it was.

Jeff winked at Kathy and she turned away, obviously stifling a giggle. Grinning, he headed for the cockpit. He would bet the copilot would be in the bathroom jerking off long before they got to Georgia — probably several times.

Jeff stuck his head into the cockpit, "May I come in Captain?" At Captain Madison's motion toward the copilot's position, Jeff slid into the seat. "I appreciate your letting me come up here," Jeff responded.

"Ah, come on, Mr. Matthews, you've been in that seat before. I welcome your company. Besides," he added, grinning, "David was about to have a stroke to go back and talk with your ladies." Thinking for a moment, he added, "If he gets out of line, let me know and I'll come down on him, hard, Sir."

Jeff grinned back at the pilot. "My women might tease him a bit, but they will spank him if they think it's necessary. He's a nice guy, and they can pretty much overwhelm any male they want to." Shit why did I say, 'my women'. That's being a smart ass. I didn't mean to do that. "And how about forgetting that 'Sir' bit. I'm just Jeff."

"You've told me that before," Madison said checking his instruments and glancing at the radar, a little distracted. "But I guess those old habits die hard, and 'Sir' is a sign of respect, as you know. And I try to show respect for everyone that flies with us. If you insist, though, I'll try to remember. And," he grinned at Jeff, drawing the word out, "seems to me that I heard the word 'Captain' when you stuck your head through the door."

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Those old habits do have a way of hanging in there."

They heard laughter from the back. "Sounds like Romeo just scored a point or two. Sure you don't want me to chase him out of there?" Madison joked.

Jeff laughed, glanced at Madison again. "Seriously, I thought I would talk to you about a couple of things while we had a little time together."

Madison nodded at the instrument panel and gave a little flick of his hand as if to indicate the aircraft. "Shoot. She practically flies herself. What's on your mind?"

"How much more weight could you take on?"

Madison grimaced, "Not much more, maybe a few hundred pounds. I noticed that your women didn't bring a lot of luggage, considering how many there are of them. Uh, I guess that didn't come out just like I meant it to..."

Jeff looked at Madison. "Come on, lighten up. Ever since those guys came to your house, you talk to me like I'm going to jump down your throat. Just because they're assholes, doesn't mean I'm one, too. My assistant is back there with her daughter; two are Arlene's friends, then my wife and daughter. There's a bunch of them, but they don't bite, and if they do, they have all had their shots," he laughed.

Madison was far from being an idiot, however. He just grinned at Jeff. "All had their shots, huh?"

It was Jeff's turn to bluster as the little dig came perilously close to the truth.

Madison took pity on him. "Enough bullshit. What can I do for you? How much weight are you talking about? We can always make another trip."

"Well I've got a bunch of guns — rifles, shotguns, handguns," Jeff blandly commented. When Madison didn't flinch, he went up a notch or two in Jeff's book. "They're one of my sideline jobs. Obviously, not as much now as they were when I was in college, and for the first couple of years after I started out in business. I have an FFL license. For awhile I bought and sold all sorts of guns to, primarily, police departments. Actually, I've gained more than just a little profit with the business; I've acquired several good friends. You would be surprised at how many cops really appreciate someone doing honest business with them. Seems like most of them have paid high dollar for their weapons. Many police departments still require their officers to furnish their own weapons, particularly the smaller departments. I even managed to make a few sales to some medium sized police departments when they decided to issue weapons to their officers."

Madison thought for a moment. "From your expression, I believe you thought I was going to get all freaked out when you mentioned guns. Actually, I like to go shooting whenever I get the chance. My wife gave me a Sig 226 in 9 mm, Christmas before last." He motioned to his left. "It stays in the plane when we're traveling, then goes home with me when I'm off. I shot a bit in the Air Force, but got some real training when I got out. I'll never be a competition shooter, but I've had a lot of good, safe fun with that present. I personally think that if more honest citizens carried guns, or at least had one at home, and had good training, there would be a whole lot fewer criminals preying on the public. It doesn't take much courage to break into someone's house at night if you know the homeowner isn't armed. It's a whole other ball game when the homeowner is armed and knows how to use a good weapon."

Pausing for a moment, he continued, "Sorry, I guess I got on my favorite soapbox. Back to your question. We're too near our weight limit this trip, but I can come back whenever you like, pending the aircraft not being reserved for the top five, as you know. Just give me a copy of your FFL license, and clear everything with the airports before you get there, or we'll be knee-deep in red tape. Since 911, they will strain a gnat and swallow a camel, unless they're expecting you. Just tell Kathy to make a couple of copies of your license. There's a small copy machine in the back."

Jeff found the control and eased his seat back a bit, giving his long legs a little more room. "I've got a buddy that owns a shop in Atlanta, I may just load them up — most of them are in their original boxes — and let him ship them to Boulder for me. I mentioned it to a dealer there, but he didn't seem too interested. I don't mind giving him a little incentive, but I think the guy is basically a prick. I guess I'll just have to check around a little more."

Madison raised his hand slightly, and Jeff waited while the pilot apparently listened to radio traffic on his earphone. "We're going to have a little bit of a bumpy ride for an hour or so," he said positioning the mike. After he made the seatbelt announcement, he noticed Jeff grinning. "What's with the grin?"

"My assistant does not like to fly. And that's if the ride is as smooth as glass. She's not going to be pleased."

"We have some motion sickness pills, if that will help."

Jeff shrugged. "I wish they would, but she doesn't get motion sick. She's going to be making several trips for the company we're starting. I'm beginning to think that I might just have to make the trips myself, after all. I really hate to make her miserable. She just seems to prefer having both feet planted firmly on the ground."

"Sounds like me when I ride in a car with my wife," Madison said, chuckling.

Changing the subject, Jeff said, "When are you guys going to take me up on my offer of spending a day or two with us?"

"Oh, has the dinner invitation changed into a 'day or two?'"

"It sure has. And if you like to shoot, I found a skeet thrower in the basement. There is sure plenty of room on that mountain to set it up. I have a couple of nice skeet guns in Georgia. I've got tons of targets that I used to sell to police departments. I can pick up a few boxes of clay pigeons. We could have a ball with the shotguns, and give your Sig a workout, too. You can shoot any of my guns, as well. It would be a lot of good fun."

"Have you taught your women to shoot?" Madison said without thinking. When Jeff didn't immediately answer, Madison started to apologize, but Jeff interrupted him.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Look Jeff, it was just a slip of the tongue. I meant your wife and daughter."

"Don't ever take up selling used cars, Bill. You'll starve to death."

"Jeff, I didn't mean..."

"I'm not mad, at least not at you. And yeah, you did mean it, even if it did just slip out. It slipped out because it is, apparently, so damned obvious. And I need to correct that, so tell me what you spotted before I get in a world of shit because of it."

Madison sighed. "Okay. It's the way they look at you, and you at them. Oh, I don't mean mooning over each other or anything. I could tell by the time everyone had given their bags to us and had gotten on board. It's not as if they're afraid of you or anything, they just follow you with their eyes a little more than is normal, and you do the same. It's a subtle thing, and I'm having a hard time putting it into words. But I think a lot of people will know very quickly if they see you guys together for any length of time."

Jeff sighed. "How many of them do you think are mine?"

"Why all of them of course," Madison instantly replied.

Jeff grimaced. Shit!

-------

Captain Madison had two SUVs waiting. By the time Kathy had the door open, the SUVs were backing toward the plane. The two guys that brought the vehicles out were surly and were overly anxious to get back to whatever they had been doing. Assholes, you just missed more tip money than you'll get for the next two weeks,  Jeff fumed to himself.

Diana nodded at the two as they strolled off. "With their attitudes, did they expect you to tip them?"

Jeff put the two fifty-dollar bills that he was going to use for tips back into his billfold. "I don't think they even expected a tip. If they always act like they just did, they probably aren't used to getting any kind of gratuity. Oh, well. Screw those guys. It's getting late. We sure want to get there before people start thinking about going to bed."

"It's only eight. Thirty minutes to get to Jennie's house. Even people in Georgia don't go to bed that early."

Jeff grinned a bit, even though he was definitely uptight. "After we talk to Jennie's mother and dad, then we have to do the same at Melissa's house, don't forget. No telling how late it will be by then."

Slamming the hatch after the last bag was in, he turned for the front. Diana grabbed his hand, then the back of his neck with the other hand. Pulling him down to her, she kissed him hard. "Remember, Baby, turn on the Alpha Male. Laura tells me it came out full force at the lab. Put on your mission face and do it."

"Mission face?" he asked putting his arms around her lower back and hugging her to him.

"Don't play innocent. You know exactly what I mean. It's hard to argue with that face, believe me, I've tried for years."

Kissing her again, he said, "You always surprise me, Baby. It's nice to know that someone as smart as you still married me."

"Get a room," Melissa yelled out the window, everybody cracking up. Jeff didn't care; he kissed her again. "See you at Jennie's house." He swatted her on the rear as she took off for the other vehicle.

Diana got under the wheel of the second SUV, smiling. Whatever happens, Big Boy, you're going to get sooo lucky tonight.

-------

As they pulled up in front of Jennie's house and got out, Melissa said, "Hey, that's our car in the drive."

Jeff wasn't sure he wanted to confront both sets of parents at the same time.

Jennie led them to the side door. "If we have company, we always hang out in the den. This is the closest way," she said, removing her key from her purse.

One last, short regroup at the door and they walked in.

Oh, well. The first military precept is that the best plans only last until the first shot is fired. Plan change!

The lights were low in the den. Jennie's dad was between his fifteen-year-old daughter's legs, pounding away. Jennie's fifteen-year-old brother had Melissa's mother on all fours and hadn't even noticed that there was a sudden addition of seven more people in the den. Jennie's mother was playing cowgirl on Melissa's dad's lap.

Diana's camera began flashing. Jeff snapped the lights on. There were gasps and curses coming from all over the room, accompanied by a mad scramble for clothing. Jennie had to tap her dad on the shoulder twice before he noticed that anything was happening.

Finally, Jeff yelled in a parade ground voice: "SHUT UP! SIT DOWN!" Pointing to each of the parents, he continued in a much quieter, but still very stern voice, "You, you, you and you, sit on the couch!" They meekly did.

Pointing to the kids then, he said, "Go to the kitchen. Wait there. DO NOT CALL ANYONE ON THE PHONE. IF THE PHONE RINGS, DO NOT ANSWER IT. IF SOMEONE COMES TO THE DOOR, DO NOT ANSWER IT. Do you both understand me?"

They definitely did, and took off.

Negotiations for Jennie and Melissa to move to Colorado went very smoothly — as did their power of attorney. Mainly Jeff told the parents what was going to happen and they instantly agreed.

-------

Four hours later, they were sitting in a big suite in a luxury hotel in Atlanta. Both SUVs were packed to the gills with Jennie's and Melissa's things that they just couldn't live without. Jeff sat slumped on the couch, looking like he had just lost his last friend.

Everyone had tried to console him. Diana eased into his lap, putting her head on his shoulder. Kissing him, she quietly said, "I know how you feel. We all do. But you never threatened them. You even told them that we had come out to ask if Jennie and Melissa could live with us. You can let them know that they can come to visit the girls with tickets paid for by us, and all the rest you were going to offer them, later. You're beating yourself up over something they did, not you."

"Yeah," Jeff said, "but what you're leaving out is that they thought I was going to turn them over to the cops. They were positive of it. They thought I wouldn't do that if they let the girls live with us." Sighing, he whispered, "I feel like a total shit. They weren't doing anything that I haven't done. But Baby," he teased, kissing her lightly on the lips, "the camera was absolutely brilliant, as I've said at least a dozen times." Looking at the laptop where a crystal-clear picture of Jennie's dad and sister was still on the screen, "I just can't believe that you had presence of mind enough to snatch the camera out of your purse and start shooting. I would never have thought of it in time."

Diana knew he was giving her a lot of undue credit, but she enjoyed hearing it, anyway. "Well," she laughed, "I sure did snatch it out, all right. My stuff was all over the floor, and my cigarettes got stepped on."

"I forgot to stop and pick some more up. I'll run down to the lobby and get you a pack. I really don't know if they have twenty-four hour room service or not."

"Hush, Baby. I don't need any cigarettes tonight. We'll do that tomorrow. Go get a quick shower and we'll see if we can't get rid of some of your tensions."

Arlene, Melissa and Jennie had gone off to bed. A few minutes later, Ann and Laura took turns riding Jeff while Diana caressed his balls and used her vibrator.

Diana turned the light off and snuggled to her husband's left side as Laura had already done on the right. Ann snuggled up against her mother, putting an arm across Laura to touch Jeff. Diana's last thought before sleep overtook her was that she was glad Jeff had vetoed sleeping in their old house tonight. She would deal with a musty house, packing their stuff for the movers, and the decisions that would arise on the morrow. Sleep came quicky on the heels of their mutual exhaustion.

Two weeks later, after bribes to expedite things, called in favors, and lawyers, Jeff and Diana had powers of attorney for Jennie and Melissa.

Jeff and Diana decided to let the moving company pack everything from Laura's and their house that they wanted to keep, then gave the rest to friends and family. Jeff's lab equipment was also carefully packed, and everything eventually sent on its way. The moving company knew that everything would have to be offloaded into smaller trucks to negotiate their drive, and planned to do that at their Denver office. Money had taken care of all their original objections.

Finally, with everyone exhausted, but jubilant, they flew back into Boulder to pick up their vehicles and finish their journey home.



-------

Chapter 21

Jeff walked out of the gun shop in Denver and headed toward the Escalade. The vehicle was wall to wall with pretty females in animated conversation. As he opened the driver's door, he could smell expensive perfume and just a trace of good clean female. Sliding under the wheel, he got a peck on the lips from Diana. "How did it go?" she questioned.

"It was as much different with these people as daylight and dark," he remarked while shifting into drive and pulling out. "He said he wouldn't charge me if I picked the guns up within a week or so. Then said he would sell any guns on consignment that I wanted to leave with him for a ten percent commission. He's either the biggest liar around, or he's decided that honesty and a little profit on every deal will make him a lot more money than a lot of money on a few deals. Judging from the number of cops in the place, he's straight. I've already called Brooks on the cell phone and given him the name and address of the store. He said he would ship my guns out within a couple of days. This guy is supposed to call me when they get here."

They stopped to eat an hour or so later, leaving the waiter in shock as the harem, as Diana called them, teased and vied for Jeff's attention. Laughing and having a ball, they headed for the mountain.

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As soon as the Escalade came to a halt, doors popped open, and there was a mad dash for the house by all four girls. Jeff saw Diana and Laura look at each other and smirk. He knew something was up — had known it all day — but he didn't have a clue what it was.

Diana and Laura each grabbed an arm, tucked it around them, and making sure he had titties pressed against his side, they all headed for the door together. "You two keep doing that, and we're going to end up in the bedroom."

The women looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Oh, you're going to have plenty to do tonight, Big Boy," Laura said. "When we get inside, we'll fix you up with a big homemade milkshake that I read about, with plenty of eggs and other goodies. You're going to need all your strength, and about a gallon of the good stuff from that sperm factory of yours."

Jeff wasn't sure he was up to their expectations, but he was fairly certain that even if he failed, he was going to enjoy himself.

As soon as they were in the kitchen, Laura and Diana shed their blouses and bras. Jeff sat at the table while Laura put out the ingredients for his milkshake. Diana pulled the table back a bit and straddled his lap. Her long, full breasts bobbed and swayed as she adjusted herself. Holding a gorgeous breast in her left hand, she poked him in the eye with her nipple. "Suck, Big Boy, they're so full of milk they're about to pop. By the time you relieve the pressure, your shake will be ready."

Since she seemed so anxious for him to suck her breasts, Jeff took his time. After licking her breast around the swollen nipple until she was moaning in frustration, he finally licked slowly across the nipple itself. But that wasn't what she wanted. Diana tried to push the nipple into his mouth, but he wouldn't clamp down on it or suck it, instead kept licking, barely touching it. Even so, he began to taste woman milk as drops of the translucent fluid formed on her nipple.

Without warning he sucked hard, pulling back on the nipple trying to get as much of her milk as he could. Diana caught her breath, whimpered and came. The orgasm lasted for much longer than usual, leaving her swaying — almost out. While she was still coming, and for a while after, he sucked her milk in earnest.

After the blender started up, Laura pushed a titty between them, taking Jeff's head in her hands. Diana leaned back as Laura guided one of her nipples to Jeff's mouth. "I don't give milk like my sister here does, but I think I like my nipples sucked about as much."

Laura proved it a couple of minutes later, when she squealed, grabbed Jeff's head, then after a moment, slumped against him. Later, she pushed herself away and wobbling a bit, said, "Hang on, you two. Don't get too involved, all I have to do is put in the ice cream and flip the blender on for a second or two for the shake to be ready."

Diana kissed and caressed him for a few minutes until Laura set a giant chocolate shake in front of him. It had the biggest straw he had ever seen sticking out of it. "Where in the world did you get that straw," Jeff laughed, taking a sip of the shake.

"We can't give all our secrets away," Laura quipped.

The taste was odd. Basic chocolate, except — cinnamon, maybe nutmeg, maybe ginseng and others. He suspected a lot of others. He wasn't sure if he liked the taste or not. It was a very strong blend of tastes and smells. He had, at first, thought that Laura was kidding — maybe she might put a few eggs into the milkshake, or something, but she had obviously doctored the shake liberally with many things. What in the crap are they trying to do? Are they all going to try to fuck me tonight? I'm not even sure that I can put all of this thing away. It's just as likely to come back up, even if I do manage to drink all of it.

He did manage, but it took him twenty minutes. Wearily he got to his feet. "My belly is so full it almost hurts. I'm going into the living room and take a nap on the recliner," Jeff said, trying not to yawn.

Laura followed him into the hallway and steered him toward the bedroom. "Why don't you just lie on the bed? We'll come get you when we're ready," she said, mysteriously.

Laura met Diana in Laura's apartment a few minutes later. Looking at Diana, Laura said, worriedly, "I sure hope I didn't mess up by making him drink all of that shake. Instead of perking him up, it looks like it knocked him out. Melissa is going to be pissed at me if we can't get him awake."

Diana smiled at her as she lit one of the 120's. "Oh, quit worrying. That's just the man in him. His belly is full. As soon as that shake digests a bit, he'll be raring to go." Glancing at her watch, she continued, "I just talked with the caterer. They're on the way. Everything will be ready by eight. We need to get him up by about twenty of. I want to make it as much like the last time as possible. I'll get him up, showered, shaved, and dressed, then Arlene will take over. You weren't here the last time, so we've got one more to help..."

Jeff woke with the taste of woman milk and the delightful feel of a nipple in his mouth. Opening his eyes, he met the dancing eyes of his wife. She pulled the nipple out of his mouth and kissed him hard? "Get up and get a shower, Lover; put a razor on that sandpaper face, we've got things to do."

Knowing the look, he only grumbled a little as he struggled to his feet, still half asleep. There wasn't any use in arguing when she got that look on her face, besides she pulled the nipple out of his mouth before she orgasmed. Definitely, something serious was going on. Surely, they don't expect me to fuck everybody tonight. That nap wasn't all the sleep I wanted. Damn, when did my dick get hard? I guess I must have realized her titty was in my mouth while I was asleep. He stood in the bathroom for several minutes, but his dick wouldn't go down enough to piss. Disgusted, he stepped into the shower. Just before he finished, the water suddenly went cold — an beyond, it seemed — the water felt like it had run through an ice storm on the way to the shower head. Cursing, he practically ejected from the shower.

How could the shower suddenly go cold? Flushing the commode or someone else turning on hot water had never made one bit of difference in water temperature in the shower. Not in this house. If the water heater ran out of hot water, the temperature should gradually go down — not that it ever has. Somebody turned a fucking valve somewhere.

By the time he had the temperature problem figured out, and his bladder relieved, Diana called to him. As he stepped out of the bathroom into the vanity area to ask her about her little joke that had almost given him a heart attack, he met her holding his suit.

"Wide awake now?" she asked, too sweetly. She turned and walked into the bedroom, placing the suit carefully on the bed next to his underclothes. Noting the dress and heels, things began to dawn on him.

"It's Melissa's night. She won the toss," she said, even as Diana knelt in front of him. Kissing the head of his dick and sucking it lightly, she reluctantly released it and stood. This time, with a twinkle in her eye, though there was a sparkle of tears as well, she said, her voice breaking, "Make me proud." Turning, she pushed her shoulders back and strutted out of the room.

Oh, shit. They're taking this seriously. I thought Ann's was like a wedding. Like didn't have anything to do with it. Suddenly his hands were shaking so badly he could hardly get his shorts on. As he was finishing dressing, Arlene walked in. Dressed identically to her mother, and like the other time, she was wearing a black dress that left little to the imagination.

She stopped and looked at her dad, then came over and kissed him. Pulling his hand into the front of her dress, she pressed her breast against him.

Remembering his lines just in time, as he caressed her breast, he said, "Fuck her brains out, right?"

Arlene giggled. And as before, "Make her walk funny, Dad."

Taking his arm, they walked out of the bedroom. As they made the last turn, Jeff saw Melissa standing at the end of the hallway wearing a white dress that was the mate of the one that Ann had worn. Don't bawl now you idiot,  he admonished himself. You're just a little while from gaining another wife. It suddenly dawned on him that he might have several more weddings to go. He didn't notice the tears trickling down his face as he approached her. All he could think of was how lucky he was to have this many beautiful, adorable women that seemed to be in love with him.

He held his arm out to her, and a moment later they stepped into the dining room.

Everything was as nearly the same as the women could make it. Melissa, of course, didn't serve the wine this time. It was Jennie serving it to Melissa. But Jennie did it with finesse.

Later, he picked Melissa up to carry her over the threshold of the rear suite, but this time, he turned toward Diana, along with the other women at the other end of the hall. He winked, hoping Diana could tell at that distance, then turned and proudly carried his trembling bride over the threshold.

As Jeff sat her on the couch, he asked, "Hey, Sweetheart, why so uptight? I only bite a little bit."

There was a sparkle of tears in her eyes that wrenched at his heart. Ann wasn't this upset. Why is Melissa so shook? Sitting beside her, he pulled her to him and hugged her to his chest. Even through his concern for her, he was aware of her soft breasts pushing against him.

He gently kissed her, then touched his lips to each eye in turn, kissing away the mounting tears. She tucked her head back against his chest and hugged him. "Oh, Jeff. I ... I just feel like I shouldn't be here. I mean ... your wife is so beautiful, and so sexy. I looked in the mirror after I got dressed, and I just don't have it. My breasts aren't as big as hers are. My hair isn't long and beautiful like hers. My face isn't nearly as pretty as hers..."

Something finally snapped in Jeff. All the tension, all the buildup, knowing he certainly didn't deserve even one of these beautiful women, let alone this girl hugging him so fiercely, finally came out — came out in belly laughs.

"Oh, you precious, sweet woman," he gasped when he could. "I love you so much. It's me that is scared so badly that I could hardly walk down that hallway." He kissed her pouting mouth, sucking her mouth as the girls seemed to like to do, trying to become one with her soul.

When they broke the kiss, she looked at him and shyly said, "I'm sorry that I'm not a virgin for you. You know that I've been having sex with my dad for a couple of years. I wish I had waited for you..."

"Hush," he admonished, lightly touching his fingertips to her lips. "Virgins scare me to death. And if you change that part of your background, then chances are you wouldn't be here with me now. Never, ever, worry about that again."

She sighed, and hugged him. Her shaking had stopped, and as they snuggled, he asked, "Want a little more wine?" motioning to the iced wine in the bucket.

"I don't want wine," she whispered. "I can have wine anytime. I want you to carry me into that bedroom and fuck my brains out. I'm scared to death that thing between your legs will split me in half, but it's going to go in me one way or the other."

Jeff picked her up, walked into the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed. Laughing at the startled look on her face, watching as her left breast popped out of the plunging neckline, he slipped his coat off and tossed it on a chair.

Melissa started to sit up to take her clothes off, but Jeff wagged a finger at her. "I'll do that in a bit. Just lie back and relax. We have all night. Breakfast is at eight." And if there is any way I can, this is going to be the best night you have ever had, Little Lady. Besides, Diana told me to make her proud, and ... Arlene said to make you walk funny.

Since he had done the absolute best he could with Ann, he started out with the same method, if it could be called that. Her breasts weren't quite as large as Ann's, but they were perfectly shaped, and every bit as beautiful. He kissed around them, pulling the dress open a little more, but refused to kiss or suckle her, building her desire.

After kissing down her body and legs, he pushed the hem of the expensive dress up as he progressed up her thighs. She didn't come as quickly as Ann had. As his mouth touched her center, she softly moaned, and tensed but wasn't quite ready. He had to work at it for several minutes until she suddenly seemed to explode, raising her ass high off the bed and clamping her knees hard against his head. She shivered and bucked far longer than he expected, however. Breathing hard, she released his head and collapsed back onto the bed. She didn't faint, but she couldn't talk. She hadn't screamed, as Ann had, either, only whimpered as she came, but the perspiration pouring from her face, and the strangled efforts to talk as she tried to reach for him were a compliment in their own right.

"Cock ... Put your cock in ... Do me. Make me yours forever," she choked out, pulling at his shoulders. She was so frantic that he was afraid to not fuck her. He slid up her body. Aimed his cock at her wet pussy, and shoved in a few inches until his dick wouldn't go in any farther. Ah, shit. She's tight.

"Push dammit," she hissed in his ear. "Push it in."

He pulled back and pushed again, then again. On the fourth try, something seemed to give and he slid in until he bumped her cervix. She made unintelligible sounds in her throat, wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him and hissed, "Fuck me. Pump your sperm into me. Don't worry about making me come; just come in me."

Jeff tried. Damn, she's hanging onto me so tight that I can't get a rhythm going.

She was trying to fuck back at him, but she was clinging so firmly to him, that it was hampering both of them. She tried to kiss him, but she was breathing too hard to lock her mouth on his. Her enthusiasm, and raging desire to have his sperm inside her, not to say anything about her tight pussy, won out in the end.

Jeff felt his orgasm start, seeming to bubble up from his balls until it finally enveloped him. His dick grew harder still, jerking like it had a life of its own.

She felt his cock, and screamed, "Yes," loudly hissing the word as her body locked around him. Her pussy clamped down and convulsed as his sperm sprayed into her womb and pussy, startling him with the pressure.

Her legs clasped tighter than he would ever have dreamed she had the strength to do, forcing her cervix so hard against the head of his dick that he was afraid she was going to seriously injure herself.

His dick jerked repeatedly. She gurgled something and went limp, her legs and arms falling away from him. She scared him so badly that he almost pulled out. It was probably five seconds — five long seconds to Jeff — before she gasped, shuddered and breathed, if not regularly, at least deeply.

He maintained his weight on his forearms, putting just enough weight on her body to let her know he was still there — if she could feel him at all. Of course, her pussy seemed to know he was still there. It continued to occasionally spasm, gripping him tightly, for several minutes as aftershocks flowed through her.

Easing himself out of her and stumbling to the bathroom, he quickly wet a washcloth, picking up a dry one, and a towel as well. By the time he got back, there was a puddle of come on the spread, but he quickly put the dry washcloth between her legs to catch the gush of sperm that was now flowing. That looks sexy coming out of her. Especially knowing it's my sperm coming out of this beautiful girl.

After she still didn't come round, he wiped her pussy as best he could, tossing the come-wet cloth in the General direction of the vanity. He gently wiped her swollen nether lips with the wet cloth, then dried her as gently as he could. Her lips were no longer standing open, but were again tight together, althought they were swollen and now a deep rose color. There was only a faint white wetness showing where the lips had closed. He wondered how much come was left inside her, but figured there was still a considerable amount there. It was almost as if her pussy wanted to keep his sperm.

Fifteen minutes later, she was still out and he couldn't rouse her. He had washed her face and body with a cool, wet cloth, had shook her, all to no avail.

Picking up the phone, he punched the intercom button, then dialed their living room. When Arlene answered, he asked for Diana. "What's wrong Dad?" she quickly asked, knowing that he would never call tonight unless something was wrong.

"Melissa fainted and won't wake up. Put your mother on."

The phone went "clunk," and he could hear voices in the background. Shortly Diana said, "Jeff?"

"Diana. We made love and she fainted. It's been at least fifteen minutes, maybe more, and I can't wake her up. I've bathed her with a wet cloth. I've shaken her. But she won't wake up."

"Is she bleeding from her vagina?"

"Well, no. I mean I cleaned her up, and the only thing that came out was, uh, come."

There was a babble of voices in the background. Jeff could hear a sound as Diana put her hand over the mouth piece, but could still hear her telling them that everything was all right, that Jeff had just fucked Melissa unconscious, and he was worried about her. There was giggling in the background and laughter in Diana's voice as she uncovered the phone and said to him, "I'll be there in a minute, Baby. Don't worry about her, she's fine." The phone went dead as Diana hung up.

A few minutes later, Diana walked into the bedroom as Jeff continued to bathe Melissa's face. Kissing her husband lightly on the cheek, Diana sat on the bed beside Melissa and put her hand on the girl's forehead.

"Tell me about it."

Jeff shrugged. "She was frantic. Clung to me like you wouldn't believe. Then when I came, she made some strange noises, then just collapsed."

Sliding down a little, Diana pulled the hem of the wedding dress a little higher, noticed the swollen pussy lips and remarked, "She's going to be sore tomorrow." Gently pushing the lips open with her fingers produced another gush of come, but there was obviously no blood.

"What are we going to do?" Jeff asked, his face flushed.

"We aren't going to do anything. You, on the other hand, are going to lie down and take your new wife in your arms so that when she wakes up she will know that everything is just fine."

Jeff didn't know what else to do, so he did what his wife said. As he gathered Melissa in his arms, Diana took her pulse. "I'll stay with you two until she wakes. But her pulse is as steady as it can be, and strong.

"If you think about it," she continued lying down beside them, "the last few days have been very, very traumatic for her. She's away from her dad and mother now. And in her mind, and in mine, she has just become a new wife of the most important person in her world."

Jeff cleared his throat, wondering if he had just made a fool of himself, "Diana, she wanted me to come in her, frantically wanted it. I've never seen anyone act like that. It kind of scared me, she wanted it so badly."

"Baby," Diana answered, tentatively, "there is something going on that I certainly don't know much about, and I really don't know if you do or not. I can personally verify that I have changed. I'm beginning to wonder if all of it was just to make up for fucking Jack like a slut. Years ago, I would suck you off, but I was tempted many times to spit your come out. Now the idea of spitting your come out is almost repugnant to me. I want you to come in me, anywhere. And, yes, I know that many women like to have their men come in them, but I think that this has grown beyond that. It certainly seems to have done so for this young lady," she said, grinning a little.

Diana got up and left for a minute. When she came back, she had a glass of wine. She sat back on the bed and shared the wine with her husband. A few minutes later, Melissa shivered a little and opened her eyes. Suddenly, she grabbed Jeff and seemed to try to burrow into him.

Diana smiled, tipped the glass to Jeff, and walked out, shoulders back, strutting for him.

Jeff glanced down at the swollen pussy lips of his new wife as she shrugged out of her dress and hose. Struggling he managed to pull the sheet over them. Reaching over, he flipped the light out. She was going to have a hard enough time tomorrow. He sure wasn't going to add to her misery, no matter how hard his dick was.

"Turn toward me, she murmured." When he did so, she pressed her breasts against his chest, reached down and pulled his now raging hard-on between her legs, and sighing, was asleep in seconds.

Jeff wasn't all that comfortable, but he was not going to disturb Melissa. Her breath on his neck, her hard nipples against his chest, not to say anything about her soft breasts pressing against him, was not doing a thing toward softening his dick. He thought about going to the bathroom and jerking off, but getting up would probably wake Melissa. In the end, he finally slept.

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The alarm went off at seven and they played in the shower for a while. He sucked her nipples, then gently kissed her pussy while the water poured down his back. She shuddered out an orgasm, but it wasn't a big one.

"My turn," she almost hissed, as she dropped to her knees and began sucking, one hand working on the bottom of his shaft while the other teased his balls. Soon she was swallowing. After he was completely drained, she stood up and hugged him hard.

Pulling his face down to hers, she kissed him, first hard, then tenderly. "I had a beautiful wedding night," she whispered. "I'll always remember it."

She was so intense that Jeff found it hard to say anything. Finally, "My wedding night was just as wonderful, Sweetheart, and I too, will always remember it."

Well, judging by the tears and the strength of the hug, I must have said the right thing.

They walked into the kitchen right on time. Jeff didn't have the foggiest notion what to say as everyone looked at them.

Melissa looked at everyone for a moment, then proudly said, "I'm full of come."

Jeff expected everybody to start laughing, but it didn't happen. Instead, Diana got up, grabbed Melissa and hugged her. "Let's get you in the hot tub. Are you hurting?"

"No, I'm swollen pretty badly, and I'm sore, but I don't hurt."

Diana started issuing orders. "Jennie, get her some coffee and something to eat, please. Just fix her a tray with a little of everything. Arlene, go get the pussy cream. Ann, come on and go with us to help me get her into the tub."

In a few seconds everyone was gone. Laura laughed at the expression on Jeff's face. "Sit down, My Love. It's my job to see after you." Eying his crotch as he walked over to the table, she continued, "Looks like she took care of you this morning. You don't have a hard-on."

"Yeah," Jeff said, somehow a bit sheepish despite himself, "she gave me a blowjob in the shower."

"Good," Laura said almost absently, "that's what she is supposed to do. She's supposed to take care of her husband."

They have really gotten into this husband routine.

Almost as if she could read his thoughts, Laura said, "All of us women had a meeting. We are dead serious about your being our husband in every sense of the word. And your wife originated the idea. Mr. Alpha Male, you will have ceremonies with each of us, just as you have with Ann and Melissa, until you have married each one. Thus has spoken the boss wife — Diana."

Jeff just looked at her. He thought his mouth was hanging open, desperately hoped it wasn't, but could not seem to get his mind in gear.

After a minute, he got out, "I guess I need to check on Melissa."

"You need to sit and eat. This is female business now. She'll be sitting in that tub reciting every word you said, and telling exactly how you made love to her. I only regret that I'm missing it. I sure would have liked to have been here when Ann came back from being with you the first time," she wistfully said. "She was so proud when she called me. But Melissa will tell me everything later today. She would be upset if you went out there and started making over her."

Pouring his first cup of coffee, she set the pot on the table, plopped down in his lap and kissed him. "From what Diana said last night, you really filled Melissa up. Maybe I need to patent that shake recipe. From her description, you might have come even more than you did before."

"Well, I had a hard-on all night. I couldn't fuck her because ... well, you know. And the thing wouldn't go down. Of course, with her snuggled up against me, I couldn't expect it to," he wound down.

Laura kissed him again, then bounced up. After replacing the coffeepot, she put a steak in the frying pan, then started scrambling some eggs.

"How many eggs did you put in there?" Jeff asked. "I thought you had already eaten."

"Oh, I have, Love. I put five in for you. The steak should be medium rare about the same time the eggs are done."

At Jeff's shocked look, she continued, "Oh, you have several females to take care of today. Hearing about Melissa's night is going to get everyone turned on, and you're marrying Jennie tonight, of course."

Of course. Jeff thought. I guess there are worse ways of dying than being fucked to death.

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Jeff made it clear, well he admitted to himself, as clear as he could with all the women grinning at him during his little declaration, that he wasn't going to drink the whole shake again. He also said, if he had to drink it, already admitting defeat, that they should not wait as late to give it to him as they had yesterday.

Laura gave it to him an hour earlier, but it was the same size.

As Laura got back from escorting Jeff to the bedroom for his nap, Diana asked, "I thought you were going to snuggle up to him until he went to sleep?"

"Oh, I did," she chortled, "all ten seconds of snuggle time. He's sound asleep. Even his dick looks like it's out of it. I don't know whether that shake stirs him up sexually or not, like it's supposed to, but it sure puts him to sleep."

Diana giggled, then said, "Let's go rescue Jennie from the rest of the girls. After Ann and Melissa both had to sit in the hot tub after being with Jeff, not to say anything about their embellishments about what his dick felt like going in, Jennie will be a basket case. She's been stressed all day."

"Did you get in touch with the caterer like you said?"

"Yeah, they know to be here by seven thirty. And they know they're to be here four more times after tonight."

"You mean three don't you?" Laura questioned, then suddenly realized that Diana was going to do this, too. "Way to go girl."

Diana laughed back at her and took Laura's hand as they started for the living room. "I wouldn't miss this for the world. And don't you dare let it slip to Jeff. We were just kids when we got married. I was pregnant and our parents were all having a fit. Everybody was looking down their noses at us. It was a fiasco — at best. Then I proceeded to hurt every time he tried to make love to me while I was pregnant. By the time I wasn't pregnant, he had gotten so used to very gently making love to me, that he never did really fuck me. Our first years together were just a mess. During these last weeks, for the first time in our marriage, I am actually fucking my husband, and both of us are enjoying it. Plus I want to see his face when he sees me standing at the end of that hallway."

"Are you going to wear white?" Laura teased.

"You bet your bottom dollar I am," she laughed. "I've done my exercises off an on almost all day for several weeks. I've done them so much; I'm beginning to do them automatically. Plus I've kept that teeny dildo in almost all the time for a couple of weeks now, squeezing it practically all the time. I want to see the look on Jeff's face when I clamp down and his dick won't go in. I'm going to make that sweet SOB work his ass off to get into me."

Both of them were laughing when they found the girls in the game room. Melissa and Ann were playing the new video game they had just gotten, with Arlene rooting them on. Jennie was listlessly playing one of the other games.

When Arlene noticed her mother and Laura enter the room, she motioned to them. Speaking softly, she said, "Jennie is very, very uptight. I'm afraid she's going to be sick by the time eight o'clock gets here. I tried to talk to her, but I think I just made it worse. She claims she's fine, but her face is white, and she can't concentrate on the games."

"Yeah, that's about what we figured. Let's, get her in the kitchen. We don't need her sick on her wedding night." Diana said, her face set.

Diana grabbed Jennie's hand, tugged on it, and said, "Let's go kid."

Laura took the other hand, and giggling they herded Jennie into the kitchen. When Arlene started to come in a moment later, Diana caught her eye, and shook her head. Arlene did an about face and vanished.

As soon as they were near the small table, Diana took Jennie in her arms, lightly kissing the teenager's lips and said, "Sit."

Laura already had cups on the table and was pouring coffee.

"I didn't drink much of this," Jennie said, "until I came out here. But now, it seems natural to do it, and I really miss it if we're going somewhere and I don't have some for a few hours."

Laura smiled at Jennie, "I used to have a cup on my desk practically all the time at work. It's something that grows on you, I guess."

They chatted for a few minutes, Jennie waiting for the shoe to drop. Finally, Diana softly asked, "What's the matter, Princess? Are you having second thoughts? You don't have to do this if you don't want to. You can still live here with us as long as you like. This is your home. But you don't have to do anything you don't want to as far as sex is concerned."

Jennie looked startled. "Why would you ever think that I didn't want to?" she asked, obviously getting more upset.

Diana got up and put her arms around her. After hugging her for a moment, she pushed back a little. "You've been very upset all day. We were afraid that you were going to make yourself sick. We're just trying to make sure that you're ready for this. This isn't marriage in the eyes of the law, but it is marriage in our family's eyes. We talked about this for hours the other day. It was Ann that first called it her wedding, and was so upset that morning because, in her mind, she was going to have to leave her husband."

"But I want to marry Jeff, just like I said when we had our meeting. I want to always be his wife. We all agreed that this is forever." There were tears starting in her eyes.

Laura joined the group hug. Finally, she said, "Sit. Tell us what's going on. We'll soon all be sisters. We already all love each other. When you hurt, we hurt."

When Jennie didn't say anything, Laura continued, "It's natural for a bride to be tense, maybe even upset, on her wedding day. I've known one or two that threw up just before the wedding. If that's all it is, then that's just fine. Oh, not being sick. We don't want you to be sick. But we are all worried about you..." she wound down.

Jennie almost spoke, but seemed to change her mind.

They had sat back down, and Diana reached over and took Jennie's hand. "Spit it out, Princess. We'll work it out together."

The tears started in earnest then. "I can't give him anything. Ann gave him her virginity. I'm used. My dad fucked me; well actually I guess I fucked him. I wanted to fuck so bad. And I was afraid if I fucked one of the boys at school, that he wouldn't use a rubber and I would wind up with AIDS and die. We did everything we could think of to do. He even fucked me in the ass. And I know Melissa fucked her dad too, but she's so damned pretty, and she looks so, so ... sophisticated. Arlene gives Jeff milk and walks around here smoking cigarettes to tease him. You give milk," she said nodding at Diana. "My tits aren't half as big as yours. Both of you are women, not a girl like me. And you are both so beautiful and sexy. I don't have anything to give him," she wailed.

"I know one thing that you have already given him," Laura teased. When Jennie looked questioningly at her, she continued, "One hell of a blowjob out on the deck. He looked like he was going to faint when you put his dick in your mouth and sucked. I almost had an orgasm just watching you. And yeah, I'm a woman, but I would give a lot to be your age again. I'm thirty-one and look every bit of it. Diana seems to have gotten younger, but I certainly haven't. How do you think I feel when I'm the old woman of the house? How can I compete with a pretty young girl like you? Did you ever think that I'm scared, every day, that he won't notice me?"

Jennie looked a little shocked.

Diana broke in. "How about me? I've been married to him for sixteen years. And I surely didn't fuck him like I should have. I guess I didn't really care that much for sex, or at least I didn't show him that I did. Then he caught me fucking Jack like some kind of bar whore. Talk about used. Why should he care anything about me, when he's got a beautiful female like you to fuck?

"Besides, if I remember your dad's size correctly from the other night, you're going to be plenty virginal enough for that big cock of Jeff's. Remember, Melissa has been in the hot tub three times today, and she still walks funny."

"Do you think he likes me enough?" she asked, still wistful.

Diana gripped her hand, hard. "He doesn't just like you; he loves you. As he does all of us. He would die for you if he had to. Never think he wouldn't."

Diana wasn't sure whether their talk did any good or not, but she was going to try to keep Jennie busy and around her as much as she could for the rest of the day. Jennie doesn't know how serious I was. Jeff has an awful lot of new pussy around him. Most of them far younger than I am. But he always treats me special. I hated not being able to stop lactating, but he sure acts like it turns him on. If Jennie wants to give milk as badly as she seems, I guess I need to buy her a pump. We'll see if she wants it badly enough to sit with that vacuum pulling at her nipples as much as it will take to start her. Shit, if I keep thinking about this, I'm going to have to take a few minutes out for some personal time with my vibrator. Sighing mentally, she told Jennie where the wine was kept, giving instructions to put some in to chill.

-------

Jeff woke up with titty milk in his mouth again. This time, Diana didn't seem to be in any big hurry. When she finished her orgasm with one breast, she stuck the other nipple in his mouth. It only took seconds for her to start shivering and bucking again.

"Suck some more out of that one, Honey, it's so tight it hurts."

After Jeff sucked her for several more minutes, sighing, she pulled her dripping nipple out of his mouth. "I'm having to milk myself every day. I'm giving milk like I have twins."

"More for me, Baby."

"I guess it's all the stimulation I've had in the last weeks. But I hope you don't get over liking to suck my milk. I sure can't stop my breasts from filling with it. Trying to see herself in the mirror, she continued, I hope my breasts don't start sagging like so many pregnant women's tits do."

"Baby, whatever happens, I'll still love them, but gravity sure doesn't bother them now," he joked. Hesitating a moment, he continued with, "I don't want to change from such a beautiful subject," he teased licking her nipple again, "but I suppose you came in here to get me up."

"Yeah," she said, smiling, "but I was a little smarter today. I came in sooner." Frowning a bit, "Jeff, Jennie was really insecure earlier. I, of course, have no idea how she will act after you're to the honeymoon suite with her..."

"Honeymoon suite?" he teased.

"Well, we had to call it something. Besides, the girls are really getting a kick out of calling it that. But seriously, I was afraid Jennie was going to make herself sick from worry."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Jeff," she admonished, "you know me better than that. Of course I did. She seemed to calm down some, but she acts very uptight and maybe a little vulnerable."

"I guess I could faint, or something when I come. Maybe that will blow her ego up. And before you can say anything, yeah, I know, women, my women, passing out has done wonders for my ego."

"Just be aware that she's afraid she isn't pretty enough, isn't special enough for you. I know, I know," she said waving her hand to forestall his comment. "But she thinks that because Arlene and I give milk, and strut around with a cigarette, and Laura and I are supposedly beautiful women, and that Ann gave you her virginity, and some others things, that she hasn't got anything special to give you. She also says her breasts are too small, so you might pay them special attention."

"Hon, her breasts are as big as Melissa's, and they darn sure aren't small. And even if they were, they stand up even when she's lying flat of her back. I sure stared at them enough when I was licking her pussy by the hot tub."

"I'm not expecting you to strike out, Lover. And it's natural for a woman to be stressed on her wedding night, but take special care with her, please."

"Maybe she just doesn't want to do this?"

"I even mentioned that. But she got really upset. It's probably the opposite. She wants to so very, very much. She just wants to be better than perfect for you."

Diana stood up, offering her husband her hand. "Get in the shower, big man. Pussy awaits," she flipped over her shoulder as she left the bedroom.

Still laughing, Jeff stood in front of the commode. The laughter turned to a groan as he realized his dick wasn't going down so he could drain his bladder. Oh, well, shower first.

His mood was stone-sober though as, a little later, with Diana's words of "Make me proud," still ringing in his ears, and the memory of her strutting out of the room, he fondled Arlene's breast and struggled through, "Fuck her brains out, right?"

"Make her walk funny, Dad."

Damn, this is affecting me more than I thought it would. These girls just have to do this once. But I guess this will be the last one. Of course, there is Laura, I don't know whether she will want to do this or not. I doubt it.

He and Arlene turned the corner. Oh, crap, there's Jennie. Why in the world would she not think she's beautiful? He stopped for a second, stunned by her beauty.

As he approached a moment later, and Jennie saw the tears on his face, she realized that maybe he thought she was special, after all.

Ann served the wine this time, just as professionally as any of them, Jeff thought, and Laura did look good in that short skirt. As Laura leaned over to put Jennie's plate down, she kissed Jennie on the cheek, and whispered only loudly enough for Jennie to hear, "Fuck his brains out sister."

Jennie grinned as Jeff raised an eyebrow in question, but she shook her head, almost imperceptibly. Whatever she said, Jennie's fighting not to laugh. Thank you, Laura.

Just to be a little different, when he picked her up to carry her over the threshold, he kissed her, hard. As he turned with Jennie in his arms to wink at Diana, he realized the women were clapping. Shit, I might get through this, yet.

Jennie was openly laughing as he dumped her unceremoniously on the couch and picked up the wine bottle for his battle with the cork. He poured her a half glass without asking, himself a whole one. Confusing her for a second, he handed her the full one. After locking arms with her, she realized that she was to drink from the glass he held, and he from the one she held. She liked that.

After they had a couple of sips, he set their glasses down. Deadpan, he announced. "Well, I'm bushed." Refusing to look at her, he tossed his jacket on the back of the couch, then his tie. He was ambling toward the bedroom, waiting for her reaction, when she jumped on his back, wrapping her legs around him, giggling.

"You've carried the other two to bed, and you're going to carry me," she shrieked riding him like a horse.

He couldn't hold his face straight any longer. He grabbed her legs and took off for the bed, spinning aside and flipping her legs loose just as he got there. She shrieked as she bounced on the bed. I love those dresses. They definitely have Diana's mark on them. That plunging neckline all the way to their waists sure lets their titties pop out when I toss their owners on the bed. She has big nipples, and the excitement has done its work on them.

The bed toss had pulled her skirt up as well as exposing titties. Ann wore white panties, Melissa wore pink, Jennie has none,  he laughed to himself as he placed both hands together in front of his chin in a mock dive position, then slid between her legs. Before she had time to do more than gasp, he had buried his face in her pussy and speared her with his tongue. The shriek she let out was almost loud enough to make his ears buzz. But her giggles and thrashing to get away from him soon turned into moans and lifting of her hips to push her pussy toward his face.

If she was still stressed out, she surely didn't show it. After her first mini-orgasm, he took his time. He backed away from her pussy, kissing her thigh, kissed a trail to her pussy, skipped over it, then down the other thigh. By now she had her hands in his hair trying to push his face back to her center.

As he made his way back, he didn't skip over her pussy this time, but kissed around it, instead, narrowing the circles each time, making her wait. When he finally returned his tongue to her pussy, he used the smallest amount of pressure he could, licking from bottom to top, but still missing her clit. He spent minutes, slow-licking, eventually adding her clit to the tongue swipe, but still using the absolute minimum of pressure as he crossed her clit.

While he worked with his tongue, he managed to struggle out of his clothes without varying his actions too much. Knowing that Ann and Melissa had probably given a blow-by-blow description of his lovemaking on their wedding nights, he had decided to vary his routine as much as he could. He was fairly certain that Jennie was expecting him to lick her to several orgasms, then mount her.

As she struggled to push her pussy tighter against his tongue, seeking more stimulation on her clit so she could have the orgasm that had been building for minutes now, he slid up her body and planted his mouth on hers. He centered the head of his dick, already made slick by his rubbing his pre-come around it, and pushed. She gasped into his pussy-wet mouth, the pupils of her eyes enlarging as she stared at him.

He sucked her mouth, then flicked his tongue around her lips, as he pulled back a little, and pushed again. She was so tight that he knew he was probably doing damage, but he continued as gently as he could. It took several tries before he slid the last inches and bottomed out, bumping the head of his dick into her cervix. He half-stroked once as her legs and arms clasped around him tightening with force. As he reached her bottom the second time, she screamed into his mouth and thrashed, trying to rub her clit on his dick. As her orgasm went over, her pussy spasmed, producing a milking sensation, which he allowed to push him over the top.

He groaned as the first geyser of his seed pulsed from his dick with force. Her eyes grew big, she whimpered and frantically worked her hips. About the time he had decided she wasn't going to faint, her eyes rolled back in her head, her body shuddered, and suddenly relaxed. As her arms and legs fell back to the bed, he short-stroked a couple of times as his semen finished pouring into her.

Struggling to keep his weight on his forearms to allow her to breathe, he came down from his come, but the world was still spinning. As he grew more concerned, she shuddered again and took a shallow breath, then a deep one.

After a few minutes, his strength was back sufficiently for him to pull out of her. As he started to get up, he noticed a stack of washcloths and a couple of towels on the bedside table. Thank you Diana.

Stretching, he grabbed a washcloth and stemmed the gush of sperm as his dick left her hole. Collapsing on his back, he kept his hand between her legs for a few minutes, then when his strength came back, he gently wiped her swollen lips. He took one of the cloths to the vanity sink, wet the cloth with warm water and properly cleaned her.

Even from the short fuck, his larger cock had abused her lips. Hoping for the best, he got a couple of glasses and filled them with ice. Picking up cokes, he returned to the bedroom and waited while sipping his drink.

After about ten minutes, Jennie was still out, though he wasn't worried this time. Picking up the phone, he punched the intercom button and dialed the living room. When Arlene's anxious voice answer the phone he said simply, "Mission accomplished." Grinning, he hung the phone up and took Jennie in his arms.

A couple of minutes later, she twitched a little, then sighed. As he looked down, he met bright eyes sparkling back at him.

"Bend me over the bed, and fuck my brains out again. Maybe I'll last longer this time."

He laughed as he pulled his newest wife hard against him in a hug. Looks like I'm going to test out Laura's shake after all.



-------

Chapter 22

At eight on the dot, he carried a laughing Jennie into an instantly quiet kitchen. Still in his arms, Jennie kissed him. Turning to the other wives, she gave the proclamation, "I'm full of come," then followed with, "but ... I'm broken."

That started the usual scramble, but they had the pussy cream in the kitchen this time, and Jeff insisted that he carry her to the hot tub. He kissed her tenderly, then was shooed away by Diana, who kissed him and whispered. "That glow on her face shows it all. Thanks for making her feel special. Now get your butt out of here and let her tell us all about it." Diana grabbed his ass as he turned to go back to the kitchen.

Apparently, Arlene, wearing a red negligée sans panties, was the designated cook this morning. When she set his coffee on the table, she straddled his lap. He got a generous helping of breast milk before he got around to his coffee.

As soon as he was done with his breakfast, Arlene unbuckled his pants, pulled them off, and engulfed his dick with her mouth. When he was sufficiently hard, she forced her tight pussy down his shaft. She rode him almost frantically until he stopped her, kissing her tenderly. "We've got all the time we want, Sweetie. There's no hurry, but I am going to take you to bed," he said, kissing her. Standing up with his arms locked around her bottom, she looked startled, then wrapped her legs around his hips. As they walked down the hall, with each step, his cock moved a little inside her, and Arlene kept up a near constant massage with her pussy muscles.

By the time they reached the bedroom, they were both highly excited. As soon as he struggled onto the bed with her, her hips started rhythmically rotating back and forth, sliding his cock in and out in short strokes. In a few minutes, he was draining himself into her as she clutched him and shuddered.

-------

A little later, he rubbed Arlene's pert little ass and said, "Go get some jeans on. We're going for a ride."

As Arlene took off for her room to get dressed, he picked up the phone, punched intercom and dialed the deck that had the hot tub. When Laura answered, he said, "Tell Diana that Arlene and I are going to take a little drive. We should be back in an hour or so."

"Okay, be careful ... Bye."

As he and Arlene got into the Escalade, she questioned, "Where're we going, Dad?"

"I want to stop by our neighbors down the road and ask about a couple of things. It will get you out of the house for a bit."

A few minutes later, Jeff turned the Escalade into a drive that wound through the trees to a very nice brick, two-story house. As they got out of the SUV, the front door of the house opened and a man walked down the steps to meet them. Jeff guessed him to be in his late sixties. He seemed to be in good physical shape.

Jeff stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm Jeff Matthews. This is my daughter Arlene."

Jeff noted the firm handshake as the man answered, "I'm Steve Sperman." Glancing at the Escalade as he turned Jeff's hand loose, Sperman asked, "Aren't you the people who bought the convention center at the top of the mountain?"

"Yeah," Jeff laughed, "that's us. How did you know that the place was a convention center?"

"Oh," he said, preoccupied as he smiled at Arlene, "we watched the construction go on for a couple of years, and word gets around a small community." He nodded to Arlene. "And how are you, little lady?"

Arlene blushed and answered. "Just fine, Sir."

There she goes with the little girl act. She'll have him eating out of her hand before he knows what hit him.

Sperman clasped Jeff on the shoulder. "Come on in. I'm forgetting my manners." Leading the way up the steps, he opened the door for them and ushered them inside.

As his wife entered the room, "This is my better half, Marcie. Marcie, this is Jeff and Arlene Matthews from up top."

Jeff noted that the tall woman, like her husband, did not seem to have any excess fat about her body, despite her apparent age of sixty or so.

Marcie invited them into the den, made over Arlene, then after asking what everyone would like to drink, she took Arlene with her to the kitchen.

Sperman picked up a pipe from the table by his seat. "Mind if I smoke?"

"No problem. My wife smokes, so I'm used to it," Jeff replied, "and I like the smell of a pipe, besides."

As Sperman filled his pipe and tamped the tobacco down, he commented, "I have heard your accent a number of times. I used to work with a person who was raised in Georgia. Am I right?"

"I didn't think I had that much accent. Not with all the traveling I've been doing for the last few years. You even nailed the state, " Jeff answered, impressed.

"It's just a hobby of mine, but it tends to drive my wife crazy because I keep bugging strangers when we go out, wanting to know where they are from. I guess I have embarrassed her from time to time."

As Sperman lit his pipe, Jeff asked, "Have you always lived here in the mountains?" knowing that he probably had not.

"Oh, no, no, no. Marcie and I have lived all over. I'm a retired metallurgist and she used to be a chemist. We have only been out here about five years."

Before the conversation could go any further, Arlene and Marcie came back with a couple of trays. "Dad, Marcie makes her own doughnuts. These are fresh baked this morning."

After the coffee was poured and the doughnuts passed around, Jeff sat up a little straighter as he took the first bite. Turning to Marcie, obviously sincere, he said, "These are the best doughnuts I have ever put in my mouth. Is there any way you would part with the recipe?" Ah, hell. I sound like and old woman swapping recipes. But I don't care. If Diana learns to cook these things, it will be a small price to pay,  he thought.

Arlene giggled and waved a paper at Jeff. "I asked for the recipe as soon as I took a bite in the kitchen. She has a stack of recipes already printed out. Mom is going to be pleased."

Marcie laughed, "They came from a recipe my mother got from an old cookbook. I got tired of writing out the directions for everyone, sat down at the computer and printed a number of copies. The donuts take a little while, but they're not hard to make. Arlene and I have already put a dozen in a bag to take with you."

Jeff ate two, and wanted a couple more, but refrained. If the glint in Marcie's eye was any indication, she knew that he had forced himself to quit.

Jeff took another sip of coffee. "I didn't really mean to barge in on you people. I had the intention of just stopping by and asking a couple of questions about the snow here."

Sperman looked at his wife and winked. Turning back to Jeff he said, "The snow is what got Marcie and I hooked on this area. We came out on vacation one summer about twenty years ago, fell in love with Winter Park, then decided to come back in the winter. We have been skiing every chance we have had since then. We bought this property ten years ago, then built the house a little later. When we retired, we moved out here and stayed."

"Where do you ski?" Jeff asked as Marcie poured him more coffee and offered Arlene and Steve more. As she set the pot down, she answered for her husband, "We do the most of our skiing around Winter Park. There are several really nice slopes that can be quite challenging. But we don't do much of the challenging part any more," she wistfully said. "Both of us have a touch of osteoporosis, which means that our bones aren't as strong as they once were. Our doctor pretty strongly advised against anything that could result in a hard fall. So we take it easy most of the time."

Jeff laughed, "I guess I misled you. The nearest I have ever been to skiing was on water, and I never did that enough to get good at it. What I meant to ask was how are the roads in the winter? Unless we set up some type of home-schooling, I'm going to be driving up and down this mountain every day with four girls in the car, carrying them to school. We thought we would get your advice Mr. and Mrs. Sperman."

Sperman grimaced, "Just Steve, please. I left the Mr. at work."

Jeff laughed. "Yeah, me too. Just Jeff, if you please," he said, with a little mock nod.

"Okay, Jeff. But you know what they say about opinions?"

Marcie interrupted with, "Steve. Now watch your mouth. We have a young lady with us."

Arlene giggled. "Everyone has one? Right Mr. Sperman?"

Steve burst out laughing. "Just so, young lady. Just so." Turning back to Jeff and sobering somewhat, he said, "Get yourself a snowplow. From here to where you live is going to get really interesting in about another month or two. You can look for three hundred inches or more at the top during the winter. You're not all the way to the top, but even so, the last mile of the county road, not to say anything about your driveway, is going to get an awful lot of the white stuff, not to mention ice. No offense, but it is a lot of snow even for the locals, and you're a southern boy. It took us a while to get used to that much snow, and we had been around snow quite a bit from time to time."

Taking a sip of coffee, he continued, "Marcie and I have been up to your place a couple of times when they were building it, just to look around and be nosey. Your driveway is going to get damn dangerous when it ices over." Draining the last of his coffee, he continued, "Come on out back and I'll show you our rig," he finished, placing his cup back on the coffee table and standing.

"Mr. Sperman, is it okay if I come too?" Arlene asked, getting up when her dad did.

Turning to Arlene with a very serious look on his face, Sperman said, "On, one condition." When Arlene's face became serious also, he continued, "If you stop calling me 'Mr. Sperman'. I keep wanting to look over my shoulder to see who you're talking to."

Arlene grinned, "Yes, Sir, uh, I mean Steve."

They all laughed as they started for the back.

A couple of minutes later, they were standing in a very well kept back yard, next to a large four-wheel drive, extended cab, pickup. Steve pointed to the red snowplow sitting not far from the truck. "That's a Western Ultramount that we got a couple of years ago. They aren't cheap, but it hooks up in about two minutes, and it works really well. All you have to do is drive into it, pull up a couple of levers, push in a couple of safety pins, and snap in the wiring. Takes longer to say than to do. That's a salt spreader over there. You're going to need one of those, also."

Showing them the mounts under the front bumper that attached to the frame, he continued, "It takes about a day to get the framework, hydraulics and wiring installed. What kind of vehicle do you have?"

"I've got the Escalade out front, and an Expedition. But if I get a snowplow, I'll buy a truck to mount it on. I thought you would probably know more about what I needed than I did, and it sure seems like you do. I'm certainly glad for the advice. I thought about a snowplow, of course, but I didn't want to be at the mercy of some salesman that might not know what he was talking about, or that didn't have much personal experience with mountain roads."

Marcie spoke up with, "We just leave the plow on the truck most of the winter if we are just going to Winter Park or somewhere around here. If the roads down below are plowed out and we're going to Denver or Boulder, we drop the plow off at a friend's house. If you do get a plow, I'm sure we can make arrangements for you to drop yours off if you need to. They have about forty acres, and there's plenty of room out next to the road; so it's convenient."

"Thanks Marcie, we really appreciate that." Turning to Steve, Jeff asked, "Would you write down the type of plow and spreader that you recommend, as well as your preferences for a pickup that will do the job? We would really appreciate it, and recommend a dealer for each, if you would."

-------

Twenty minutes later, they walked in the back and Jeff picked up the nearest phone. Tapping the PA button, he said. "Hey gang, meet me in the kitchen. We've got homemade doughnuts."

A couple of minutes later, he set the sack on the table. Ann was the first to take one out. Looking at it, she remarked, "These aren't the best looking doughnuts that I've ever seen..." Whatever else she was going to say faded away as the smell hit her. After a tentative bite, she grinned and took a bigger one.

Arlene and I have already had ours, Jeff offered, as they started dividing up the doughnuts. Each had two, and it was obvious that they only let Arlene and Jeff have one more each because they were loved.

"Mom, Marcie gave me the recipe."

That did it. With list in hand, Laura and Diana were immediately in a discussion.

"We've got everything we need right here. But maybe we should pick up a couple of packets of yeast, though. We have plenty, but it was here when we moved in. We'll have to check the dates to make sure that it's still good."

Diana put the recipe on the table, "Okay, everybody, we'll make the doughnuts later. We still have our errand to run. Everybody get dressed and we'll do what we talked about yesterday."

Laura and the girls took off, leaving Diana and Jeff in the kitchen. "The head bitch has spoken," Diana teased.

Grabbing Jeff, she hugged him, giving him a good feel of braless titties as she pressed against him. Putting a hand behind his neck, she pulled him down to give him an intense open-mouth kiss. "I've got to get ready, too," she said, as she broke away from him.

"Where're you guys going? I need to pick up a few things. I'm already ready."

"Not this time, Lover. You can't go with us on this trip."

"Come on Diana. Why the secrecy? I really need to pick up some stuff, and I need to stop by the snowplow dealer."

"We'll take the Escalade. You still have the Expedition. And come to think of it, you promised Laura her own vehicle. We're going to need more than two SUVs from time to time. But you can not come with us today." Giggling, she added, "Though you can come in us later."

Jeff gave up, kissed her and headed to the study where he picked up the phone and dialed the snowplow dealer. Just before he got off the phone, Jennie climbed into his lap. Grimacing a little as she adjusted herself, she hugged and kissed his cheek, then lightly ran her nails across his groin, teasing his dick through his pants. He barely managed to keep a coherent conversation going. As he hung up she said, "Thank you again for last night. I'll remember it forever."

"Seeing you in pain, "Jeff said, hugging her, "makes me think I should have quit before I did."

Whispering in his ear, Jennie proudly replied, "I'm your woman now." Giggling, "A sore pussy is a badge of honor around here. I have no regrets, and I'll be fine in a couple of days."

Putting her hand behind his head, almost like Diana had done, she gave him a kiss that practically scorched his socks. She giggled again, and broke the kiss when she felt his penis push against her ass.

In a few minutes, everyone was dressed and filing by to get a kiss and a grope. Diana was last. As he squeezed her breast through her blouse and bra, she chided, "Not this time, Big Boy. We're running a little late on our secret mission. We'll be back before dark, though. You'll have to fend for yourself for lunch."

As they all left the study, she admonished, staring him in the eye, "No masturbating while we're gone."

"Okay," he mumbled, having had that exact intention.

"This is Laura's night. And since you have already had her several times, unlike Melissa and Jennie, she's probably going to give you a lot more of a workout. And, incidentally, she put one of the shakes in the big refrigerator. You might want to drink that about five and take your nap."

"Laura is going to do this, too?" Jeff asked, a little nonplused.

"Certainly," Diana answered, with an unfathomable look on her face. "What did you expect?"

Before Jeff could answer, Arlene poked her head around the corner. "Everybody's in the Escalade, Mom. What's keeping you? Can I drive?"

Giving her husband's dick one last squeeze, she took off out of the den. "No," she said, "we're in a hurry."

Jeff heard a halfhearted, "Oh, Mom," as they went toward the back.

Guess I'll check on the construction and have a talk with the contractor. He acts like a pretty sharp guy. He doesn't seem to have tried to cut any corners with the lab. I'll show him my plans for the indoor range and see what he says.

Instead of entering the basement from inside the house, Jeff walked around to the back and came in through the basement door that he had assigned to the contractor and his crew. As he opened the door, he wasn't subjected to the sound of circular saws and big nail guns in a confined space as he had been a week ago. There was the smell of paint, and an occasional quiet "pap" from a finish nailer as a carpenter put up molding.

Seeing that the contractor was having a discussion with an electrician, Jeff waited and just strolled around. When the contractor saw him, he waved to Jeff, and a couple of minutes later, the tall, good-looking man came over.

"Hey, Mr. Matthews, I didn't see you come in."

"How's it going?"

"I think we'll be able to finish in two or three days, unless Murphy strikes again," he said, ruefully.

Jeff raised an eyebrow, and waited.

"Oh, no problem, really. Just one of those things. The electrician screwed up on some of the computer wiring, and I didn't catch it until today. Now we have to pick up some of the flooring and rerun the wiring properly. But since you designed the floor to be removed for just that purpose, it's just a little aggravation — not a real problem.

"He's not happy, but hey, he was the one who screwed up. I gave him exact plans; he just left a cable out." Frowning in the direction of the electrician, who, with another man had started lifting floor panels, the contractor continued. "He's not one of my regular electricians, he's from one of my subcontractors. My other electricians are tied up and the one I was going to use on this job broke a leg on a job about six weeks ago. He's due back next week. But don't worry, it will be right when I sign off on it."

Jeff shrugged. "Just remember what I said in the beginning. I want everything done right. I hate doing things over. If it takes longer, then it takes longer. I haven't bugged you or tried to look over your shoulder. And this is far from the last project that I have on the drawing board."

"It will be right, Mr. Matthews. You told me to give you an honest, fair price, and I did just that. You didn't balk or try to talk my price down. Our company gets a lot of return work because of good work at a fair price. I'm not going to lessen my standards now."

"Good," Jeff said, with a little grin. "Then let's go talk about some more of that 'return' work." A couple of minutes later, Jeff stopped and pointed. "I would like to have a small handgun range installed about here," indicating an area in the basement. "I've had an architect draw up the plans for a state-of-the-art indoor range. Suppose we go up to the kitchen, drink some coffee, and look over the plans."

When they entered the kitchen, Jeff put the drawings on the table and set about making a fresh pot of coffee as Henson studied the material. Jeff put a cake out that Diana had baked, along with plates and silverware. The contractor was so engrossed, he barely noticed, not even answering when Jeff asked if he wanted cake. Jeff grinned and cut him a piece, anyway.

"I've never built one of these. What about this waterfall?"

"I talked with a representative that makes it. It comes in modular form, and they will send someone out to assist in installation. It pretty much has to go in first, then everything is built around it, I guess. At least that's what I got out of the conversation.

"Actually," Jeff continued, "the falls doesn't have water. The liquid is a fairly viscous type of vegetable oil. Environmentally friendly, in other words. As the oil spills down the surface of the falls, the bullet hits the falls, is directed upward to an overhang that keeps it from ricocheting, then drops back down to the bottom of the falls. There, it lands in a type of trough that has a slow-moving conveyor belt in it. The conveyor moves the bullet to the side of the falls, where the bullet and the oil or separated — the bullet winding up in a container that is automatically sealed when it is full."

"The system is not just built around safety, but almost totally eliminates any lead particles from entering the surrounding air after the projectile hits the falls. And speaking of lead particles, the air filtration system directs outside air to the shooting stations. The air is then filtered through two water fall systems, plus mechanical filters, before it is released into the atmosphere, they claim, cleaner than when it went in. The filtration system is supposed to be that good. Again environmentally friendly.

"Of course, the walls and ceiling of the range are designed to make it impossible for a bullet to penetrate. Any wild round fired will be directed toward the waterfall. There is absolutely no way a projectile or fragment can come back toward a shooter, or endanger anyone in the house, for that matter."

Jeff poured coffee for both of them.

Henson pushed the plans aside, put sugar and cream in his coffee, nodding thanks to Jeff. After taking a sip, he pulled the plate with the piece of cake over. Looking at Jeff, he said, "This thing is going to be expensive. I may even have to take out a section of wall to get materials into the basement. Have you considered an outdoor range?"

Jeff took a bite of cake. Damn, Diana gets better all the time. Not only is she ten times better in bed, she even cooks better. Aloud he answered, "Well, I have considered an outdoor range, but I want to be able to shoot anytime, and that's not going to happen if the winter here is anything like I have been told it is. Hey, we had a couple of inches of snow two weeks ago, in the beginning of July. The snow was gone in a day, but we frequently have nights that are quite cool. My neighbors tell me that we're going to start getting real snow in a month or two.

"So, I do want the indoor handgun range — and yeah, I know it is going to cost me. But I also want an outdoor rifle range. There are several hundred yards of relatively flat area behind the house. It could be smoothed out and target equipment put in. I can give you some rough plans for that in a few days."

Henson pushed the empty plate aside and finished his coffee. Pulling the plans back in front of him, he said, "I'll start going over this as soon as I get back to the office, and work up an estimate for you. Appreciate the cake and coffee. Tell your wife that is fine cake."

As they stood, Henson put out his hand. When they shook, he continued, "Like I said, this is going to cost. It's a real headache getting steel in here. I can't bring an eighteen-wheeler up your drive. I have to offload everything and bring it in with smaller trucks. Mr. Wainwright had some connections that I don't have. He had a lot of the long steel beams flown in by helicopter when we first started building the convention center. This will be sheet steel, not nearly as long, but it will be heavy."

"Maybe after we agree on a price, you should concentrate on getting the materials up here first. If the materials won't come in the work entrance, they might come through the bay doors on the north end. If you have to widen the doors, then so be it. I would suggest getting the sheet steel in sections small enough to handle easily, then welding them together after you get them into the basement. You might have to install the ventilation system and get it going before you do anything else. That way the welding won't bother you, or us. Just work up a plan. But you decide and get back with me as soon as you can. I would like to see the range done before the snows get too bad."

As Henson started to roll the plans up, Jeff interrupted him. "Leave those for a minute, if you will. I want to show you another little project that I want you to do first."

"Another little project?" the contractor said, motioning to the plans on the table.

"Well, this is a little project compared to the range, I guess, and it's a bit more straightforward. I just want a couple of walls knocked out, and some other stuff. Come on, I want to show you the master suite. Well... one of them," Jeff grinned. "I still can't seem to get used to how big this place is. You might want to bring your pad with you to take some notes. I don't think we'll need an architect for this."

Jeff briefly wondered how big the contractor's company was. He had built the large retreat/conference center, yet he was apparently bossing a small crew that was building Jeff a lab in the basement. That seems odd; who knows? But I really like the guy — there's just something ... about him.

-------

After showing the contractor what he wanted, he spent some time on the Internet checking out prices on four-wheel drive pickups, then printed out addresses and maps to expedite finding the dealerships when he went into the city tomorrow. Maybe I'll get Diana to go with me first thing in the morning to buy a truck and carry it over to the snowplow place. The salesman there said we should be able to pick the truck back up with everything mounted, in a couple of days. Better to get things set up now than to wait for the snows to get here and maybe have to wait a week or two to get the plow mounted when business picks up.

Having nothing better to do at the moment, he walked the half mile or so to where the first of the two big wind generator towers stood in the natural "V" that nature had formed in the slope of the mountain. Man, Wainwright doesn't do anything half-way. These monsters were obviously made for a power company. After standing and watching the blades spin for a while, he walked back toward the house where he stepped off three hundred yards that could be turned into a rifle range. He would have to take down a couple of trees, clean up some brush, and do a little leveling, but the range would have a natural backstop.

I won't have to worry about bothering anyone with the sound. The only people that could possibly hear anything will be the Sperman's, although they're at least a mile away. I doubt if they will mind, anyway, especially if I bring them up for a visit and let them shoot from time to time. Most people like to shoot a rifle if they get the chance, even if it's just a .22. I'll bet Steve will love my 7 mm magnum. Yeah, this will work,  he grinned to himself as he started toward the house.

Turning and glancing back toward where the range would be, he thought, I guess I'm acting like that proverbial kid in a candy store. But hell, almost everything we ever bought had to be used, or a "great deal" that we had to wait for until we had the money, or had the charge cards paid down enough to buy something. I never dreamed that we would have enough money that I could have a rifle range, let alone, an indoor pistol range. Mentally shrugging, deep in thought, he started back.

After arriving, he found a book and went out on one of the decks, killing time. The hot tub beckoned, so he took off his clothes and sat in the water for awhile. After a little, the wind turned cooler and he reached over and touched the button that closed off the deck from the outside. The deck was constructed so that the house bordered on three sides, and the deck also had a glass roof. There was a glass wall that could close the deck and hot tub off from the outside. It's going to be neat out here sitting in a hot tub with six females, and snow on the ground right up to the wall. Who am I kidding? It's great sitting in a hot tub with that bunch of beautiful female flesh, no matter where the tub is.

After awhile he got tired of sitting in the tub — it just wasn't the same by himself. I can't seem to get my mind on this book. I keep wondering what Diana is up to with her secret trip. It sure was a lot more fun sitting here watching jiggling titties and feeling a tight pussy sliding up and down my cock.

Putting the book down and getting out of the tub, he dried off, put his clothes back on and went inside. Damn, I'm so horny I can't stand myself. And Diana just had to tell me not to jerk off. With the way things have been going for the last few days, I'm getting less pussy than I was when there was just Diana and Arlene around. Everybody is talking about this as if they are real marriages. I can't expect these girls to really be my wives. They're bound to find someone their age, and decide to have a family, or move away or something, but they're all making a big deal out of this. I'm afraid that I'm going to fall so deeply in love with them, that when they do leave that I'm going to have a hard time of it.

How did Diana go from being jealous of me fucking Arlene without asking first, to setting me up to getting "married" to these girls, and now Laura? I keep expecting to wake up and find out this has been a dream. But Jack definitely wasn't a dream. I hope that SOB's balls are still swollen as big as his head. Shit, I wish I had kicked him again. That felt good, at least to me.

Looking at his watch, he guessed it was close enough to five to go ahead and drink the shake. As he opened the refrigerator and took the shake out, he thought, Laura, I don't really know if these things make me any more able to fuck, but shake or not, I can guarantee that you will have a sore pussy tomorrow. And if the way my balls feel right now is any indication, that little pussy of yours is going to be full of come as well as being sore.

Sipping on the shake, he continued his contemplation. I don't need this thing. And it sure doesn't taste the best in the world. Hell, I was already coming four or five times a day. A couple of days, I think I went six. Now Laura has started this Alpha Male thing. And I still can't tell them what's actually going on.

I've grown almost three inches in height in the last two years. I've had to have my suit pants let out twice, then had to buy new suits when they couldn't let the pants out any more — and my dick has gotten bigger as well. Shit, if it gets any bigger, I won't be able to get it into Ann and Melissa.

Diana knows something is going on, and Laura does, too. Diana looks so young it's startling, and I'm starting to look younger, too. My abs look like an advertisement for a workout machine. Instead of my five- mile morning run, I'm up to eight in the same length of time. At least out here in Colorado, I'm not constantly around people that have known me for a long time and can see, and wonder, about the difference.

Diana is starting to put things together — her seeming to get younger, the mole disappearing, the ankle healing. I wonder if Diana's body is going to override her birth control pills. I don't know how I feel about that. She sure would look sexy with her belly swelled up, though. What in the shit am I going to do?

After awhile, he noticed that the shake was gone and he was getting sleepy. I must have a button in my stomach. When I'm full, it's as if something switches on the sleep mode, especially these damned shakes. Walking into the bedroom, he managed to get out of his clothes and lie back on the bed before sleep overtook him. Ten minutes later, his dick was standing tall.

-------

He awakened to a hard sucking on his penis. Diana winked at him as she released his cock with a pop, and slid up to kiss him, then did her usual to get the pressure relieved in her breasts. When the orgasms were over, Diana, still lying on his chest, said, "Time to get up and make Laura your wife."

"Look, Baby, aren't we carrying this a little too far? I mean ... I know we all agreed that they would all be treated as my wives."

Frowning, Diana took his face in her hands. "We've talked about this. You saw Melissa's and Jennie's reactions after they had your sperm and they thought they were going to have to go home. How about Ann? She had big problems. The 'honeymoon' symbolizes their weddings. Don't take that away. This is a very serious thing with them."

"I know. I know. This thing, whatever it is, works both ways. I realized while we were on the way to talk with their parents that both Jennie and Melissa were coming home with us — one way or the other. But I married you, Baby. I..."

"Hush, Jeff. You're going to make me cry. And I already have my makeup on. Now get your pretty butt up and get showered and dressed."

"Pretty butt? Crap, Diana. I don't want to have a pretty butt. That makes me sound like a fairy or something."

As Jeff got up to go to the bathroom, Diana swatted him on the ass. "It looks like a pretty butt to me, and I don't think there is a female in this house that thinks there is a gay bone in your body. Especially that bone in front," she teased as she watched his dick sway as he walked into the bathroom and stood in front of the commode.

"Come on woman. Get out of here. My dick will never go down so I can piss with you standing there looking at me."

Diana laughed and left. Having no luck, Jeff took a shower, still leery about the water suddenly turning cold, but it didn't happen. After a shower and shave, he managed to drain his bladder, then met Diana in the bedroom with his clothes.

As before, she knelt in front of him and seemed to ritually kiss his dick. Standing, and with her "Make me proud," comment, she strutted out of the room, shoulders back and breasts out.

He had just finished dressing when Arlene walked in, dressed in her sexy black outfit, as usual. Taking his hand, she slid it inside the dress and onto her right breast.

"Fuck her brains out, right?" he asked, grinning

"Make her walk funny, Dad," she said, taking his arm and walking through the sitting room and into the hall.

When they made the last turn and could see Laura standing at the other end waiting in her white dress, they stopped as usual.

Oh, crap. I can see the tears from here. She told me she had loved me for years. Hadn't even slept with a man for five years, because she had just given up trying to replace me. I feel like a heel and don't even know what I've done. We've had sex several times now. I've done the best I could for her. I've given her a job, made her part of our life. Nothing is different tonight. So why are my knees shaking?

He felt Arlene's nudge, and started walking.

When they met, instead of just taking her arm and escorting her in to dinner, he very gently kissed her, whispered, "I love you." Then, teasing, said, "Better eat hearty. I'm going to fuck your brains out."

Laura shivered and staggered a little as he led her through the dining room door.

Diana served the wine this time. I'll have to remember to ask them where they learned to do that so professionally. Ann was prominent in serving dinner to her mother, and as she served the dessert, Ann leaned over and lightly kissed her mother on the lips. Jeff was listening this time.

"Welcome to the harem," Ann softly said, then strutted out, leaving them to enjoy their small desserts alone.

-------

As they reached the honeymoon suit, as was standard procedure he guessed, Jeff swept her into his arms and kissed her hard to the accompaniment of catcalls from the other end of the hall. He winked at Diana, spun a complete circle with Laura still in his arms, then went into the sitting room of the suite, kicking the door shut behind him.

He sat her gently on the couch, kissing her as he did so. Why is she so shook up? I've fucked her at the hotel in Saint Louis, and she and Diana rode my cock in the hotel in Atlanta. She's trembling more than Ann was, and she was a virgin. Well, I'll pour us some wine to give her a chance to calm down. Watching me make a fool out of myself getting that damn cork out of the wine bottle should lighten the situation a bit.

With a flourish, he took two chilled glasses out and set them on the table. Then he made a mock production of struggling with the cork. She did giggle a little. Rethinking his approach, he poured each of them a half glass of wine, then sat beside her.

As she sipped her wine, he put his arm around her and pulled her against him. The plunging neckline of the dress did little to hide her breasts. Realizing that her right breast was exposed past the nipple, she timidly straightened the dress.

"Do you love me, Laura?"

Sitting her wine down, as did he, "Oh, God, yes. You know I do," she quickly answered, looking up at him.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"Of course not."

As Jeff started to continue, Laura interrupted, "I know that I'm acting like a virgin on her wedding night. But you just don't understand." The tears started in earnest then. As he tried to comfort her, she shook her head, then buried her face against his chest for a moment. Looking back up at him, "Jeff after that shithead got me pregnant, then ran off ... well, you know about all that. You and Diana went through the pregnancy thing right after I did. But you didn't run off — try to get out of your responsibilities — you stuck by Di, married her, and worked your ass off to support her and Arlene. Somewhere along in there, I fell head over heels in love with you. But I was Diana's best friend. Ah, hell, you know the story. I've already told you how long I have loved you. I guess I'm just acting like a fool ... I keep thinking something will happen and I won't get to be with you any more. I..."

"Hush." Tears and all, he kissed her, hard. It was salty, and wet, and she had to stop to wipe her nose. Somewhere along the line, Jeff laughed at the situation, and she giggled through her sobs. Handing her another handful of tissues, he said, teasing, "Blow your nose woman, it's time for another sperm injection from your 'Alpha Male.'" He laughed, thinking it was just a poor joke, at best, but Laura just looked at him, her eyes big.

Scooping her into his arms, he stood to go to the bedroom. Man, she's really gotten into this Alpha Male crap. But Alpha Male or not, watching those great tits of hers play peekaboo through the front of that dress has gotten me as horny as a billy goat. If she wants a sperm injection, she's sure going to get it.

He didn't dump her on the bed the way he did Jennie and Melissa, but gently laid her down. As she started to take her heels off, he motioned for her to stop. "That's my job, and I do like to look at a beautiful woman in spikes." The smile was as pretty as she was as he continued, "Just lie there while I get rid of my clothes, then I want to take yours off as I make love to you ... Then I'm going to fuck your brains out," he said with a rush, causing her to laugh out loud.

-------

Jeff spent more than thirty minutes kissing her from head to toe. Diana must have gotten these dresses with fucking in mind. One little flip of the wrist and titties are bared, then the little flared, short skirt pushed up to expose their pussies. They must coordinate their panties. Everybody had on a different color, and Jennie didn't have on any at all. Laura's are a delicate shade of green.

She had an orgasm each with her breasts, and three with him kissing her pussy before he allowed her to pull him on top of her. She was shivering and almost baring her teeth, frantic, trying to get him to push his cock into her. She was tight as he pushed the head into her entrance. Her legs wrapped around his hips and she strained, lifting her ass off the bed. She was sopping wet. She wouldn't let him pull back after the first push, to make it easier on her. Giving up, he pushed hard, sliding in until he bumped against her cervix.

She grunted, rammed her pussy up, clamping her legs against his ass. She shivered violently, whimpered, and collapsed.

Well, shit.

His dick was so hard it felt like it would break. Her pussy continued to spasm while he held against her womb. Fuck this. I have to get my rocks off. Feeling guilty, but not much, he shoved his cock back and forth in her tight, spasming sheath. He watched her breasts bounce and shake as he slammed into her. Sorry, Baby. I've got to relieve some of the pressure.

If she felt him, she didn't give any indication. Less than a minute later, he was able to reach his point of no return. He wanted to slam into her, but some part of him held the urge back, keeping him from hurting her. On the last stroke, he pushed tight against her womb, rotating his hips, causing his dick to rub over the surface of her cervix as his seed began to spew. Four long spurts later, he pulled back almost to her entrance and pushed back in. Come squirted out around their juncture, making an obscene sound as he stroked twice more and lay with his weight on his forearms, arms shaking.

A couple of minutes later, her pussy clamped down on his cock, then started a milking sensation. Raising his head from her shoulder enough to look at her face, he saw her smiling at him. "Feels like you went on without me," she said, suppressing a giggle, while she continued milking his cock. His dick hadn't gone down a bit.

He kissed her hard, bent to suck each of her large nipples, then when she said, "Well?" he pulled back to her entrance and shoved in hard. They fucked for about ten minutes, not gently, with her having one orgasm right after another. Just before he reached orgasm, he hooked his arms behind her knees and really gave it to her. She managed to stay conscious until his cock was almost through spurting before her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp.

He didn't mind; he was struggling to get enough air to keep from crushing her as he rolled off, his dick lying across her leg as he collapsed beside her on his side. A few seconds later, he was asleep.

Jeff awoke hours later with Laura's breasts snuggled up against him, her head on his shoulder, and one leg wrapped around him. His dick was so hard it hurt. Turning her on her belly, she was barely awake as he lifted her hips slightly, bringing her knees a little under her. Straddling her, he lined his cock up against her hole, and pushed. He couldn't see her face, but he knew that had popped her eyes open. It also pushed more come out onto her legs and the bed. Without preamble, he stroked her.

She whimpered a little when he first pushed in. He didn't know whether it was from her being sore, or from liking his dick inside her. After a few more strokes, she began pushing back against him. He fucked her fast for several minutes, her pussy in almost constant spasm. When he pushed hard into her and held as his cock started spurting, the keening she had been making for the last several minutes increased in volume until it became a scream that went on and on.

They went back to sleep still joined with her ass still cocked up and his dick resting against her womb, come oozing down her thigh to add to the other puddles on the bed.

He awoke a little later with a crick in his back, and rolled them to the dry side of the bed. She snuggled into his arms, planted her breasts against his side, sighed, and was instantly asleep.

-------

Jeff stepped into the kitchen at eight fifteen with Laura in his arms — she had wanted an encore of their last time, which ran them a little late. Jeff kissed her for a moment, then blushing, Laura pulled the short skirt a little higher, exposing her swollen, come laden pussy to the view of Diana and the others.

"Jeff," Diana scolded. "Just carry her on to the hot tub." Picking up the pussy cream, Diana led the harem toward the deck.

A few minutes later, Jeff walked back into the kitchen as Jennie scrambled his eggs, having already started his steak. "Wow," she said. "She'll be out of commission a week."

"Maybe we need to cut down on those damn shakes," he mock grumped, trying not to grin.

-------

An hour later, Jeff and Diana started down their drive in the Escalade. "Are you sure we even need a snowplow?" Diana asked, taking a sip of coffee from her go cup.

"No, I'm not. Not really. When I contracted to have the drive plowed out, the guy said he would do it every day, if there were snow. But both Wainwright and Sperman talked about how much snow we would get up here. I don't want to have to depend on someone else having to come up and plow the drive before we can get out, should we have an emergency and have to leave in a hurry. Not to mention getting snow when we are out and not being able to get home. It worries me to think about taking the girls back and forth to school every day, too, not to say anything about how much of my time it is going to take. And," he sighed, "I keep looking at that snow gage sitting in the middle of the back yard. I don't know if all snow gages are six feet tall or not, but that one sure got my attention."

Diana took another sip of her coffee, catching Jeff glancing at her mouth as she did so. Smiling, she said, "Why don't we just bring a tutor, or teacher, whatever the correct term is, in, and forget about getting the girls back and forth on the mountain roads, not to mention this quarter-mile-long horror movie we call a driveway?" When Jeff started to answer, she interrupted. "Rich people use private teachers all the time. Why can't we?"

Sighing, Jeff said, "You may be right. Heck, we have barely spent more than we would have before I sold my invention. Except, of course what someone I know has spent on these weddings."

"Don't even start to go there, Jeff Matthews," Diana snapped. Then realizing he was kidding and that she had overreacted, she continued in a sexy voice, "You're getting a harem out of this."

"Easy, Baby, I was just teasing. I know how lucky I am."

Sitting the cup back in the drink holder, she squeezed his arm. "I'm the lucky one that you didn't run me off for fucking Jack. I never thought things would turn out this way when I cooked up my little scheme to seduce you into staying with me. But I'm happier than I can remember being."

After thinking for a moment, she said, "Now back to what we were talking about. I spent a little time drafting an advertisement for a teacher. Suppose I let you critique it, then we run it by Laura and the girls. When it looks right, we can put it in the Denver and Boulder papers."

"The girls?"

"Well, they're wives now, and should have as much to say as anyone else."

"Yeah," he shrugged, "but they're..."

"I know, sixteen and seventeen," Diana interrupted. "But have you had to say anything to a single one of them since we've been out here?" Knowing he hadn't, she continued, "Do you realize that those four girls, your four youngest wives, have practically taken over the kitchen? They cook more than half the meals, then clean up after themselves. And if Laura or I cook, they always insist that they clean up. They have made out the grocery lists for the last several weeks, vacuumed and straightened up. They have picked up after themselves and us. The cleaning crew that we have come in twice a week, has practically nothing to do.

"The girls have made a list of all the meat in the walk-in freezers in an effort to use as much of it as they can before it freezer burns. I'm beginning to feel guilty about not doing enough in my own home. They're not acting like girls, Jeff. They're acting like responsible wives."

"I still say that sooner or later, one of them is going to pull out my dick and start sucking on it, or some such thing, when you're in the wrong mood, and you're going to get jealous."

"Well, just bend me over and spank my ass, like you did before. I think — I know — I came harder then than I ever have in my life. That hairbrush hurt like blazes, but I still start to get wet when I think about it. I'm not saying I'm into pain," she quickly added, "but you made me so hot when you fucked me and whipped my ass."

"We need to change the subject," Jeff said, adjusting his penis as it tried to force its way out of his shorts.

"Poor baby," Diana giggled, "He never gets any pussy," she teased, leaning over and grabbing his dick.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to pull over and stick my dick in your mouth."

Diana sat back on her side of the SUV and lit a cigarette. "How many times did you get your rocks off last night with Laura?" she asked, noticing him watching her mouth.

"Three. Un, well, I guess four. But, Diana, dammit when I came the first time, there was so much that there wasn't room for my dick and the come in her pussy. It made a noise and squirted out when I pushed my dick back up her."

Diana chuckled, "You should hear Laura's version of it. She claims there was come everywhere. Just remember, shortly you're going to have six females to take care of every night."

"What?" Jeff said, glancing at her. "I don't think I can..."

"Oh, bull, Jeff. Do you honestly think that we're going to take turns? Get fucked once a week?"

"Diana, I'm not really sure I can do that. I mean, I guess I've never had any problem holding off coming. I've generally had to concentrate to reach orgasm, and I know most other guys have the opposite problem, but six in a row is a bit much."

"I'm not talking about holding off and fucking all of us, then getting your rocks off. I would be amazed if you couldn't fuck all of us, and come in every one of us."

"Baby, come on. I'm just a man. One man. Maybe somebody sixteen could do that, but I'm mid thirties..."

"Come on, yourself. Jeff Matthews, you have half the females in our home walking bowlegged now. Maybe a man couldn't take care of all of us, but I know an Alpha Male that certainly can. And, incidentally, I love him very much."

"I love you too, Babe. But..."

"Enough," Diana said, taking another pull on her cigarette and putting it out, "Subject change. Well, just a little, I guess. I bought a bigger bed. Well, actually it's a special order, gigantic bed. Big enough that all seven of us can sleep in it comfortably — actually quite a few more than that."

Jeff started laughing.

"What's so funny? Didn't you think that all your wives would want to sleep with you every night?"

"Well, I really didn't have that in mind, but I did think that the bedroom was too small for all of us. I sketched out some plans and had the contractor look at them. I was going to have you check them out before I gave him the final go-ahead. But I thought about knocking out the wall that adjoins Arlene's suite to ours. She sleeps with us anyway, and just uses the closets in her room. We could make the whole thing into a big 'L' shape bedroom, using her door as the entrance to the new bedroom. We could have a big shower area and also have a long vanity with multiple sinks. The original bathroom could be extended into a much larger one with a multiple partitioned area for the facilities."

Diana grinned at him. "Your wives have been discussing the same thing for several days now. But remember, you need to get everyone's approval for the new bedroom — not just mine. They might have an idea or two that you haven't thought of."

"Yeah," Jeff said, "I can see that you're right. I guess I'm going to have to change my thinking a bit before I manage to get myself into trouble," he laughed.



-------

Chapter 23

Jeff had gotten a bid from the dealer on the Internet and there wasn't a salesman involved. The sales manager handled the business.

"How long to prep the black one?"

The manager grinned. "After I talked with you on the phone, I went ahead and prepped it, just in case. All I have to do is gas it up and it will be ready."

"Fine. Do it, and we'll get the paperwork out of the way."

A little later, the paperwork was done, and Jeff swiped his debit card. The sales manager seemed to almost flinch when Jeff pulled the card through the reader, but broke into a grin when the transaction went through.

Later, Jeff consulted his map, pulled out of the dealership and headed for the snowplow dealer, with Diana following in the Escalade. He had called ahead while the paperwork was being prepared at the Dodge dealer, and the people at the snowplow place were waiting for him. After looking at the plows that were available, he chose the snowplow and salt spreader that Sperman had recommended. Jeff and Diana were back on the road headed home in less than thirty minutes.

"Babe," he said, grinning at Diana as they pulled into traffic, "I could get used to having money. We don't have to look for used things, or worry if we can afford something. Just say 'I want that one, ' pull out the old debit card, get in and drive off."

"Hopefully," Diana said, stretching her shoulders, "we haven't even spent the interest we are supposed to be earning. I don't want to become callous to being able to buy the things we need or would like to have. It sure beats making payments, particularly, when there just wasn't quite enough money to go around."

"Yeah, I know. I'm going to try to make it up to you for all those lean years. I wish this could have happened sooner."

Diana put her hand on her husband's leg. "You did good by us, Jeff. You worked your ass off, and still would be if you hadn't come up with your invention. Don't you even think there was anything wrong with what you did. I'm just happy we have each other. The hard times couldn't be helped. And there are many hard-working people in this world that will never have what we had before, let alone what we have now." Grinning, she proudly looked at her husband. "Sure does help if you have a few million in a checking account waiting for you to swipe that debit card, though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. It's even easier now that we have the new card. Remember when we bought the Expedition? We had to pick up a certified check at the bank, but since the guy at the bank suggested the debit card with two different personal identification numbers, we can pretty much buy anything we want with it. The first PIN works up to a certain amount, then if it's more than that you have to enter the second PIN. Sure worked quicker for the RAM than for the Expedition."

"Do you want to stop at the little restaurant in Winter Park? I kinda like being out alone with my husband. We don't have to be back until five or six. That will give you plenty of time to drink your shake and take a nap, while the rest of us prepare for Arlene's wedding."

Jeff flinched and jerked the wheel. "Do what? She's my daughter. I can't marry my daughter."

"Well you can't legally, but you can, as far as our family is concerned. Do you really think Arlene is going to let you get away with 'marrying' those other girls, and not 'marrying' her? Get real Jeff. Besides, if you refused, she would be devastated. 'Marrying' you is all she can talk about."

"She let the other girls go first since you had already had your night with Ann. Actually, Ann was the one that 'coined' the phrase, so to speak. She mentioned that she felt like your wife, and the whole thing had seemed like a wedding. Arlene decided that she wanted to be the last. Last, but not least, I guess you could say."

Diana noticed that there was actually sweat on Jeff's forehead. "Shit Baby," he whispered.

Diana could see moisture in his eyes as he blinked more often than usual. She didn't even tease him. "Yeah," she agreed, instead.

They pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, and thankfully, there were only a few people. They chose a booth, and Jeff sat beside her instead of across from her, as a husband and wife were usually wont to do.

After the waitress took their order, Diana leaned her head on his shoulder. "Big things going on at the top of the mountain tonight."

"Yeah" was all Jeff could manage.

-------

Jeff woke from his nap with a mouth wrapped around his dick. The vacuum that mouth produced was deliciously intense. But the eyes that met his were not Diana's. Laura let his cock pop out of her mouth and crawled up his chest to offer a swollen nipple for him to suck. "I can't give you woman milk like your wife ... uh, Diana can," she finished with a grin. "But I surely like you to suck my breast, just the same."

"They're beautiful breasts, and sexy as they can be, Wife," he said, grinning as he started nursing her nipple. She really kissed him for that comment.

"Get up and get ready. I'll be back in a few minutes and lay out your clothes."

As Jeff stood in front of the commode, fruitlessly trying to piss, She may not have milk, but she sure did get my dick up. As usual, he showered and shaved, then managed to drain his bladder when his hard-on went down a little. It didn't go all the way down, even then.

As he stepped back into the bedroom, Laura pointed to the bed. "Shorts, tee-shirt, pants, shirt, tie, socks, coat, and shoes by the bed. Did I forget anything? I haven't had a husband around like Diana has, so I'm a little new at this kind of thing."

Laura had on the standard black, plunging neckline dress that they all wore, except the one getting 'married.' Apparently coached by Diana, Laura knelt in front of him, lovingly kissed the head of his dick, then standing, said "Make me proud." Spinning on her spikes, she put her shoulders back, stuck her breasts out, and strutted from the bedroom.

Jeff's hands were already shaking by the time he picked up his shorts. He thought he would never get the tie tied properly.

When Diana walked in to escort him, he almost lost it. Disdaining to notice, Diana lightly kissed him and pulled his hand inside the top of her dress to cup her breast. Clearing his throat, Jeff said in a near normal voice, "Fuck her brains out, right?" He didn't even try to grin.

"Make her walk funny, Husband."

Taking her husband's arm, she escorted a dry-mouthed Jeff down the hall.

When they made the last turn and stopped to look at Arlene standing in her white 'wedding' dress, his vision tunneled and grayed out around the edges. He forced himself to breathe. I wasn't this scared when I was almost certain that I was going to die the next minute in combat.

He felt Diana nudge his arm. He managed to put one foot forward, then the other. I can't look at Diana. If there are tears on her face, I'll bawl like a baby. Don't mess it up for Arlene, you fool. Smile, dammit,  he admonished himself.

Jeff didn't even notice that there were as many tears on his face as there were on Arlene's, but Arlene did.

Somehow, when Diana released his arm, he was able to take Arlene's and say, "My Lady. Shall we go in to dinner?"

Arlene pulled his arm tight against her breast as he pushed the dining room door open and escorted her in.

Diana served the wine to her daughter, and then to her husband. Arlene and Jeff chatted, and Jeff managed to tell a small joke. He treated her like the lady she was, and Jeff caught the look of pride on Diana's face.

After the usual pictures, they walked to the honeymoon suite, where he tenderly kissed Arlene's trembling lips, then picked her up. Turning, he looked down the hall where his other wives had gathered. Winking at them, he slowly walked through the open doorway into the suite with his newest bride in his arms.

He gently sat her on the couch and stood up. He stared at his daughter/wife sitting there so prim and proper. Stunned, he looked at her as he tried desperately to think of something to say. Say that is, assuming he could get his mouth to work. Finally, he croaked, "I love you."

It was inane, he thought, to not be able to say something profound under the circumstances. But the way Arlene flew out of her seat and swarmed up him to lock her mouth onto his, he figured he must have hit the high points, anyway. He didn't even ask her if she wanted any more wine, he just picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

"I love you. I love you," he kept saying as he gently put her on the bed.

If Arlene were displeased with his limited discourse, she didn't show it. She just looked at him with absolute adoration. He never did remember removing his clothes, but he would always remember taking every stitch of hers off.

He kissed her mouth, until Arlene had to encourage him to start toward her breasts. When his hands and mouth eventually wound up at her breasts, he realized that she was literally strutted with milk. She has to be uncomfortable with all that milk. Well there's a remedy for that, and I happen to love the remedy.

Jeff kissed and nursed her breasts with no concern for how long he took. He just wanted to please her. Eventually, he reluctantly released her turgid nipples, and kissed downward, having lost count of how many orgasms she had while he nursed her.

He worked down her stomach, paid homage to her navel, then kissed around her sex, working his way down the inside of her thighs. He kissed the inside of her knees, and eventually wound up at her feet. He kissed, and gently sucked each of her toes, then worked back up her thighs. As he again neared her sex, Arlene made a frustrated noise, grabbed the back of his head, and jerked his mouth to her center.

As he gently kissed her nether lips, she exploded, ramming her pussy up against his mouth. The scream she emitted was louder by far than anything he had ever heard her utter. It went on and on, her back and hips raised completely off the bed, until she suddenly stopped, grunted and collapsed.

She scared him to the core of his being as she seemed to wait forever before she took a shallow, shuttering breath, then eventually, another. It seemed like minutes before her breathing was anywhere near normal.

He took his newest wife in his arms and cuddled her close, his cock limp against his leg, his sexual urges completely forgotten. Damn!

After ten minutes, he called Diana on the intercom. "Hon, she's been out for ten minutes."

Interrupting, Diana said, "Well, I guess you fucked her brains out then," she laughed.

"Uh, I just kissed her, uh, pussy."

Diana hesitated for a moment, then started laughing. "Do you mean to tell me that you two have been in there for an hour and a half, and you have been kissing her all that time?"

"Uh, most of it," Jeff admitted.

Diana took the phone away from her mouth and told the others what had happened. Back on the phone, she said, "Well, no wonder, Jeff." Still chuckling, she asked, "Should I come down? Are you concerned about her?"

"Well, no. I'm just a little amazed I guess."

"Wash her face, get her something to drink. Kiss her enough to warm her back up again, and fuck her brains out,  Husband," she said, laughing so hard she could hardly complete the statement. The phone went dead as she hung up.

Thirty minutes later, Jeff had washed her face and gotten Arlene a coke. After nursing her breasts, then kissing and licking her pussy and clit until she pulled at him, he positioned himself at her opening. Even though he had been having sex with Arlene for several weeks, it seemed so different this time.

Pushing gently forward, he entered her wet channel until the head of his cock was a couple of inches inside her. Pulling back a little, he pushed forward until he was about half way in. As they stared into each other's eyes, her pussy spasmed and clamped down forcefully on his cock. He expected the spasm to end when her orgasm did, but it did not. She seemed to just clamp harder. Crap. Has Diana been teaching her the exercises?

Arlene's eyes popped open after her orgasm tapered off. "Oh, Dad, something's wrong. I ... can't release. It's like a cramp, or something." she forced out.

Stunned, Jeff looked at her. I could probably pull out, but as hard as she's holding me, I know I will hurt her, probably me, too. There is no way I can push into her.

Jeff had heard of women that were so afraid of sex that they couldn't let their new husband push inside them, their muscles clamping their vagina closed, but Arlene wasn't scared of him. They had done this many times.

Arlene grabbed her stomach. "Dad, my muscles really hurt. It's like a cramp from running, or something," she gasped.

Unable to think of anything else, desperate, he tickled her on both her sides at the same time.

Astonished, she looked at him. He tickled her again, grinning this time to go with it. She screamed, grabbed his hands trying to get away, and her pussy released, his cock popping out. He kissed her hard, then shoved his cock back into her passage, this time, smoothly until he nudged her cervix.

She shivered, humped her pussy against him, mumbled, "You're the best, Dad," and came. It only got better from there.

After about five minutes, and many orgasms for Arlene, she kissed him, panting, and said, "Come in me. Just come in me."

Jeff focused, increased his rhythm, and a minute later his semen began to gush. Arlene clamped her legs behind his, screamed in his ear and came again. When his come stopped spurting, he rested inside her for a moment before he realized his penis had not wilted in the slightest. Arlene knew it too, and started moving against him again.

An hour later, he came for the third time without taking his cock out of Arlene. When it finished spurting, he rolled onto his back. His prick flopped against his leg, completely soft. After regaining his breath somewhat, he pulled her into his arms. As she turned on her side, pressing her breasts against him, he could see sperm coating her mons, her thighs, and when he rose up to look past her, the bed where she had been lying.

They were both asleep in seconds.

Later, he awoke with the taste of his favorite type of milk in his mouth. After kissing her, he got up to get a warm, wet cloth and a towel. He gently cleaned her, and when she went to the bathroom, he changed the bottom sheet on the soaked bed.

When she came back, worried that they were overdoing it, he said, "Baby, why don't we just snuggle and get some sleep. Your pussy is pretty swollen."

Arlene gave out her quiet, sexy giggle that drove him nuts. Bouncing on the bed, going to all fours, she stuck her ass up at him, looked over her shoulder, and said, "Mount up Cowboy, we haven't even started yet."

Jeff was concerned about her, but apparently his dick wasn't, it was so hard that it almost touched his belly. Pulling it down to her swollen pussylips, he pushed gently forward.

"Hard, dammit. Hard. Fuck my brains out. Make me walk funny."

-------

As he walked down the hall with her in his arms, he looked at his daughter/wife. Her eyes were hooded, and there was a little grin on her face.

"Baby, I'm worried about you. Your lips are swollen so much it scares me. I can just imagine what your inside feels like."

"The inside feels just great, just like the outside, Daddy. This has been the most wonderful night of my life."

"I think we had better go straight to the hot tub. I'll put you in, then get the others..."

Arlene stiffened in his arms. "No you won't. Carry me into that kitchen like you did everybody else. I get to show my pussy just like they did. I'm proud of the way my pussy looks. Don't you dare carry me to the hot tub until I can show them."

Knowing better, but doing it anyway, Jeff pushed the kitchen door open and turned Arlene toward the table. She pulled the short skirt higher, spread her legs for everyone to see her very bruised and swollen pussylips, and said, "I'm full of come, and I'm broken."

There were gasps from the women. As Diana stood up, she pushed her chair back so fast she almost turned it over. "Jeff. Shit!"

Arlene giggled. "Don't pay any attention to her, she's just jealous," she told her dad. "Take me to the hot tub," she whispered in his ear. "I'm the happiest woman you have ever seen."

Those daggers Diana is staring at me aren't from jealousy. I knew I shouldn't have let Arlene talk me into that last time this morning. She was already swollen more than any of the others were, then that last time she was almost violent — and encouraged me to be. I was far too rough with her. But damn, she was good. I almost passed out.

When Jeff got back to the kitchen, ravenous, there was no one to cook for him. Well, I guess I know what they think about things. At least Arlene isn't mad at me.

He put a steak on, scrambled six eggs, and ate. He didn't even bother with toast. When he was finished, he rinsed his dishes, left them in the sink and headed for bed.

Hours later, he awoke to someone kissing him. Arlene's bright eyes stared into his as the world came into focus, and he remembered. "How are you, Baby?" he asked, with obvious feeling.

"I'm much better." At Jeff' skeptical look, she added. "I really am. I don't think I'll be doing that again for a few days, but a lot of the swelling has already gone down."

"I guess everybody is mad at me, huh?" Jeff asked, a bit sheepishly.

Arlene kissed him, "I'm not, and haven't been. I've just had some sharp words with my mother, though. I think she understands now, and she isn't mad at you any more. I told her it was my wedding night, and I intended to get a sore pussy out of it. And I did just that. I couldn't give you my cherry like Ann did hers. Jack took mine. But Jack was never man enough to make me sore like you did. I just had a few twinges the next day, and he busted my cherry to make me sore, even that little bit. But you wrecked me, and it wasn't from a torn hymen."

"Baby, wrecking you isn't..."

"Yes, it is. That's what I wanted. I wanted to be your woman, your wife. Now, I can truly feel that I am." At Jeff's confused look, she continued, "If you can't understand it — well, maybe it's a woman thing. Just trust me. This is what I wanted, and you gave it to me. All the girls were sore, even Laura. Boy, did you tear her up. I had to have this Dad. And I am so proud. And now that Mother understands it, she's proud too. Just like she told you to make her."

He heard someone clear their throat, and looked past Arlene to see Diana coming toward the bed. She plopped down on her belly beside him, while Arlene remained laying on his chest. "I'm sorry, Lover. Arlene finally got it across to me, and I understand. You are such putty in these girls' hands. But I love you to death," she finished as her mouth descended on his, cutting off the comment he was trying to make.

Breaking the kiss and looking contemplative, Diana said, "I guess it started with Ann — with her 'armor-plated' hymen. And you're big. Well, Jennie told me that she mentioned their 'badge of honor' mentality to you." At Jeff's nod, she continued, "This wasn't all just your making love to them. Every one of them, including Laura," she laughed, "showed a leaking pussy with swollen lips — very proudly. I guess this little brat of mine," she smiled, looking at Arlene, who promptly stuck her tongue out at her mother, "decided to fuck you harder and longer, and more times than anyone else had. And she was going to have the most swollen pussy. I don't know if she accomplished the former, but she certainly did the latter.

"Sorry for fussing at you, Baby," she said touching her lips to his for a second, "I guess seeing my daughter like that got the mother instinct going. But she set me straight, and I'm sorry. But I still think she wraps you around her little finger just like she did when she was two." Laughing lightly, she added, "Well, maybe it isn't her finger she's using these days." Kissing him hard before Jeff could answer, she asked. "Are you going to be up for tonight, or do we need to skip a night to give you time to recover?"

It took a minute for him to figure out what she meant. Then it registered. Both Diana and Arlene smiled at him, indulgently. "Diana, I, uh..." he said with great wit and intelligence. Grabbing Diana, he hugged her, squeezing so tight she squeaked.

At last, breaking the hug, Diana pushed back from him. "I don't think I can top what Arlene did, but you can bet that pretty ass of yours that you are going to need one of Laura's shakes today."

Giggling like teenagers, well one of them was, the women left the bedroom.

Jeff fell back on the bed. There were several things I was going to do today. But fuck it. I'm going to rest. I think I'm going to need it.

-------

Jeff didn't get up until one. He did manage to comb his hair before he staggered into the kitchen looking for a cup of life — that brew some people referred to as coffee. Suddenly there were women all around him, teasing him, kissing him. They always seem to know where I am. How do they do that?

Everyone had come bouncing in, except Diana. I love braless,  he thought. Each of the women had on similar outfits, though not identical. Each wore some version of short shorts, varying in color and material. All had on tops that barely came below their breasts, leaving their midriffs bare. Of course, this also left their breasts easily accessible, and not being a complete idiot, he slipped his hand under their tops and groped as they kissed and rubbed against him.

"Where's Diana?" he naively asked.

"You won't see her until later, dummy," Laura teased. "It's her wedding day."

"Oh," he managed to get out, to the tune of smirks, as they all started to fix him lunch. "I'm not very hungry..."

Jennie looked at him, as he belatedly realized they expected him to eat hearty, and why. Walking over, she kissed him. "Diana said for us to tell you to keep your strength up for tonight. We're to feed you well." Whispering in his ear, she continued, "Diana told me that she hadn't even masturbated in days. I think she's going to try to outdo Arlene."

Oh, shit.

Jennie hugged him, then got back into the production line that was preparing him lunch in just a matter of minutes. How do they do that? They look like they have been working together all their lives. Then, again, I guess it has been all the girls' lives. With a shock, he realized what else he was seeing. Though Laura had always been a part of their lives, and the girls' when they came along, it was more than that. More than just a bunch of women that got along well, that worked together well — he was watching five newlywed women laughing, interacting, and having a good time just being with each other. His wives interacting with one another.

Laura saw him staring with an odd look on his face. "What?" she asked, looking around her. Then her face changed as she thought she knew. "Checking out your pussy, there husband?"

With a jolt he came back. Loud enough that he was sure everyone could hear him, he answered, "Checking out the women I love."

Smiles lit the room. Oh, boy. I must have said the right thing that time. Well, hell, even a blind squirrel gets an acorn every now and then. Take what you can.

As soon as he finished his salad, they put a steak with all the trimmings in front of him. There was a smaller version of Laura's shake, as well. He didn't even gripe about the taste of the shake.

Laura and Arlene sat with him and drank iced tea, while Ann, Jennie and Melissa cleaned up from the cooking. How do they decide who does what, when? Two to keep me company, and the others to clean up. And if Laura's hand stroking my cock is any indication, they have decided to keep me stimulated while I put this food away. Then again, they may be the ones Diana has assigned to make sure I eat that hearty meal.

Arlene came to stand behind him. She leaned over, kissed the back of his neck and pushed her breasts against him. In a sexy voice, she quietly said, "I'm still draining a little sperm now and then, even after sitting in the hot tub for hours. I guess you filled my womb up as well as my pussy."

He choked, then coughed. Laura softly laughed, but Jeff noticed that her nipples were suddenly showing, even more prominently, through her top.

The other three got tea or soft drinks and sat down with them while Jeff finished. As soon as he was done, his dishes were added to the dishwasher and it was started. In short order, the kitchen was returned to the pristine condition it was in before his lunch was started.

Almost before he realized what was happening, he, Ann and Laura, linked arm in arm, were taking a walk through the woods behind the house. Jennie, Melissa and Arlene had gone off to be with Diana. Jeff stood under a tree and pulled the mother and daughter to him. His dick, still somewhat tumescent from the attention in the kitchen, quickly started trying to tear its way out of his jeans.

Laura pulled away from a kiss and drew his head down. As he shoved her top over her breasts, she pushed a swollen nipple into his mouth. "Oh, damn, that feels good," she exclaimed.

A couple of minutes later, she shivered and came, then gave a little yip. "Oh," she said, laughing and blushing, "When I came, my pussy clenched. I'm still a little sore, and my vagina told me about it."

Jeff returned his mouth to hers, while he gently massaged her breasts with both hands. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to hurt you," he said, serious.

"You didn't hurt me, silly. It's just going to take a while to get used to being a wife — especially your wife."

As if it had been planned to the second, the women somehow redirected his hands and mouth. He teased, then sucked Ann's nipples until she shuddered and clung to him, gasping. As he left her breasts, her mouth devoured his. Then, "Thanks," she sighed, "I needed that."

Laura lightly scratched her nails along the bulge in his pants. "Any other time, we would take care of you — you know that. Any of us, anytime, anywhere," she emphatically said. "But we can't now. This is Diana's night."

"I know. And I also know that I'm the luckiest man in the world." That got a grin out of both females. "But I've been as randy as that billy goat all week, as I mentioned before. I don't know whether it's your shakes, or all the stimulation I've had from all the beautiful women in my life, but I swear I can feel the come inside me. My wives are all I can think about. I want to put you two on the bed, push my cock inside you and pump my come into you so bad that it almost hurts."

"We had better walk some more," Laura said taking his hand. "Sore pussy or not, I'm getting very tempted to take a little pressure off the both of us."

"Ditto that," Ann said in a serious voice.

As the three of them continued their exploration of the property, Jeff thought, I used to be an in-charge guy. I always ran my life. I made the decisions. But for the last week, I've had one "wedding" after the next, and until I escort my new bride of the night into dinner, I have had very little control over what's going to happen. I'll bet even this little walk today was planned. Probably by the "head bitch" as she calls herself. But "in-charge" or not, I guess this has been the happiest week of my life.



What the heck. Who's in a hurry? We've got a hundred and fifty-five million dollars. The lab is almost finished. We'll start ordering equipment, soon. In the meantime, I've 'married' five of the most beautiful women on the planet, and tonight ... How am I ever going to make Diana feel special? Each one has been different. I tried my best to do something special with each of them so that they know that I truly love them.

Diana. Diana. We've been married sixteen years, yet since Jack, you have suddenly become a new, sexual woman. Since I started fucking you, you don't seem to be able to get enough sex, and I can't either. It's a crying shame that some asshole like Jack had to be the one to wake us up to your needs. You said that you like gentle love, and I was dumb enough, and inexperienced enough to believe you, but what you need is to be fucked. Maybe with love, but not just made love to, fucked.

Two years ago, while you slept, I ran the healer over you after that doctor told you that your ankle probably would never heal properly. You were in so much pain I just couldn't stand it any longer. I went back and got the healer, and used it on you. Then I made one of the healers the price of the next mission. They bitched for a while, but I finally won. I've used it on you several times since then. For all practical purposes, you're twenty years old. Your breasts are shaped differently, sexier, if possible. They're firmer, don't sag at all, even as large as they are. You're full of energy — vibrant — I guess is the word.

Then after that mission a couple of years ago, I spent the better part of three days in the healing tank aboard that alien ship. What would you think if you knew that your "Alpha Male" is probably the result of that tank they put me in after I got shot up, and that your new youth and vitality came as the result of the machines we discovered?



"Someday," Laura said, "You're going to tell me where you go when you do that."

They were sitting on a large rock under some trees. Both women were leaning against him, just cuddling in his arms while his thoughts wandered.

"Sorry, I guess I'm poor company when I do that."

Ann smiled up at him. "As long as you keep caressing my nipple like you have been doing, you can daydream as much as you like, as far as I'm concerned."

"Me, too." Laura seconded, pressing her hand over his as he held her breast.

"What were you thinking so intensely about?" Ann asked, squeezing his hand a little as well.

"I..." Jeff started to lie. Then he remembered what Diana had said about not lying to her. Now Ann and Laura were his wives, too. "Ann, both of you know that I have ... been in the military. That's as close as I can come. I'm bound by military secrecy. Most of what I did falls within that. I literally cannot tell you anything about what I have done. When Diana, mostly inadvertently, asked about something, I would just say I was going to do this or that — a trip I made up, or something along those lines. She hated my lying. A few days ago, she really came down on me about that. It would have been a lot simpler just now to just say I was thinking about the lab, or some such. But then, I thought about what Diana said. Maybe we need a code, a word, that lets you know without making me lie, so you'll know I can't answer."

"But why would you..." Laura started to ask then changed her mind. "You're still in the military, aren't you," she said, more accusation than question.

Shit. She's close.

Instead of answering, he kissed Laura, hard, then Ann. "Let's walk over toward the generators, then back to the house," he said, standing and pulling them to their feet.

As they walked, he tried to keep a conversation going, talking about the 'wedding' tonight, but he caught a look that passed between mother and daughter. I knew they were smart, but that sure didn't take long. I need to get this off their minds — yeah, fat chance.



-------

Chapter 24

Laura woke him the usual way, and she almost went too far. When Jeff grunted and his cock started to swell, she jerked her mouth off. It was a near thing for a few seconds. "I guess I almost went off while I was still asleep," he groaned. "Wow, I'm really horny."

"Sorry, Jeff. You usually go forever. I wouldn't mess it up for Diana for the world."

"It wasn't your fault," he said, finally regaining control. "It's just the stress of the day. Of course, I've had two of those damn shakes today. They would make a dead man horny," he laughed.

Laura pulled down on his dick and then let it go. It slapped his belly with a "whack" that seemed to amuse her to no end. She did it again just to watch him frown.

"When you're done playing with my dick, I need to go pee."

"Hah. Who're you kidding? That thing isn't going down for you to pee." Kissing his dick, then standing up, she said, "Get your shower, there are big things in store tonight."

After his shower and shave, he did manage to relieve himself, but his dick was just barely down enough.

I wonder who will be here to lay my clothes out and kiss my dick tonight. He never even entertained the thought that they would change the custom, other than it certainly wouldn't be Diana.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, it was Jennie who met him. "We tossed for it," she nervously said. "I've never done this before, I hope I've got your clothes right."

"Jennie Girl, I have dressed myself for years," he teased. "If you have forgotten something, which I strongly doubt, there won't be a problem."

Jennie's look seemed to convey sympathy for a mere man. "Diana started the tradition by laying out your clothes, and the other," she blushed prettily, "We're certainly not going to stop doing it on Diana's night. Besides, wives that care about their husbands, lay out their clothes on special occasions." She left unsaid that men couldn't be trusted to properly coordinate their clothing.

By the time her mini lecture was done, she seemed a lot more confident of herself. Stepping close to him, she put both hands behind his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. After the kiss, "Wow," she softly said. "I can feel my pussy clench when we do that."

Glancing down at his roaring hard-on, he grinned and said, "If he gets any harder he's liable to break."

Jennie dropped to her knees, gently took his cock with both hands, then almost reverently licked, lightly sucked, and finally kissed the head. Standing back up, she continued to look at his penis, almost dazed. Her right breast had fallen out of the black, plunging neckline dress she wore — identical to the ones all of them would be wearing, except Diana.

Appearing to have to tear her eyes away from his cock, Jennie slowly hid her breast — at least part of it — with the dress. To Jeff, it seemed a shame to cover such a perfect body.

Kissing him again with the opened-mouthed kiss the girls all liked, she softly said, "Make us proud, Husband," and prissed out of the room.

As he dressed, he, at first, tried to keep Diana off his mind, thinking, or trying to think, about the lab, about the range, about changing the bedrooms. Nevertheless, it was a lost cause. In his mind's eye, he kept seeing Diana standing beside him when he married her all those years ago. His parents barely civil to him; her parents — not at all. He remembered her smile, her squeezing his arm as they stood before the preacher in her parents' house, Diana two months pregnant. Remembered how she had said, "We'll make it. They're all wrong. I love you, and you love me. Things will work out." Her childhood was gone, even as they stood there, and she knew it. She knew how hard it was going to be.

He remembered: She fought her way through that school year, pregnant; faced almost daily criticism, jokes, lewd comments, peer pressure, then after Arlene was born, Diana still couldn't go to dances, ball games, anything; she had to raise a kid, had to save what little money we managed to make. She worked her ass off to help me when I was working part time jobs, and going to school, then college. She never complained. When I was discouraged, she always tried to look on the bright side, always reminded me it would get better, always told me she wasn't sorry I talked her into getting into that back seat. I still love this woman as much as I ever did — no, somehow more.

Why is this affecting me so strongly? I made love to her many, many times — and lately even fucked her a few times. This is no big deal,  he tried to tell himself. Women tend to want to redo their marriage vows. This is just about the same thing. Then why is my hand shaking so badly I can hardly hold the hairbrush?

What in the world am I going to be able to do that will make this special for her? I've done my absolute best for Laura and the girls. I don't have anything new that I haven't tried. I never saw this coming. I thought this symbology was just for the girls and Laura — then they dropped Arlene on me out of the blue. I didn't see that coming either, but in my wildest dreams, I didn't expect to carry Diana into that "honeymoon suite."

Trying to tie his tie, a task he had performed hundreds of time to perfection with little or no thought, suddenly, like last night, became a challenge. Eventually managing to get the tie the way he wanted it, his thoughts settled again on Diana. Well, I suppose I could really do something different, like faint for her. Hold out my arm for her; say something profound, like uurp, as I pass out. That should really give her something to remember,  he thought, sardonically.

Arlene walked in just as he slipped his jacket on. Do they have a camera in here or something? How do they know just when to come in?

"You look great, Dad."

"You do too, Baby. Your breasts look fantastic playing peekaboo." Summoning courage, or maybe desperation, he asked, "Arlene, what am I going to do to make your mother feel special tonight?"

Without the slightest hesitation, she responded, "Just be you, Dad. You're the thing that's special about this night for her. Not your thing," she grinned, "Although that's special, too, but you are the one that makes this night special for Mom, as you did for the rest of us. Just pick her up, carry her through that door, and do what you did to us."

Recognizing his cue: "Fuck her brains out, right?"

Grinning from ear to ear, she took her dad's hand and eased it inside the dress to cup her breast. "Make her walk funny, Dad — like me."

Concerned, he looked at her, "I'm sorry, I was so involved with my own self that I didn't even ask you how you are tonight. Are you okay?"

"Hell, yes. Oops, sorry Dad. I'm still swollen, but I'm very, very, okay."

Kissing him, then making sure his mouth didn't have any lipstick on it, she took his arm. "Let's go, Husband, your new bride awaits," she said, pressing her breast against his arm and walking with him out of the bedroom.

As they made the last turn, he stopped to look at his wife — his soon-to-be wife — standing at the other end of the hallway; she was so beautiful that he couldn't believe how lucky he was.

"She is pretty, isn't she Dad?" Arlene quietly said.

"Oh, yes," he answered, in awe.

Arlene didn't have to nudge him this time, but she tightly gripped his arm as they started walking arm-in-arm toward Diana. Glancing at Arlene, She's as moved by this as Diana was when we walked toward Arlene last night. All of my women — my women — are dead serious about this. How lucky can a man get? And this woman, Diana, is the reason all of this has happened — is happening.

Breaking from tradition as they reached Diana, Jeff turned to Arlene, said, "Thanks, my wife," leaned down and gently kissed her, then turned toward her mother.

"May I escort my beautiful, new wife to dinner?" he asked, offering her his arm. He saw the smile increase as Diana took his arm; he didn't even have to look at Arlene to know that her grin was in place.

Jeff knew something was different before the dining room door was opened more than a crack. He could smell it, or more correctly, them. The room was tastefully decorated with an abundance of flowers. Laura pinned Diana's corsage on as soon as they were in the room. From the tears in Diana's eyes, it was obvious that she had not known about this.

Arlene, of course, served the wine. It was a different wine. Jeff supposed that it was probably more expensive, in honor of Diana's "wedding," but it was wasted on him, since he knew practically nothing about wine. However, the thought wasn't wasted, but instead, was very much appreciated.

Diana leaned forward from time to time, occasionally taking his hand as she chatted, animatedly. Each time she moved, he saw more of her bare breasts with their already turgid nipples. Her breasts were so strutted with milk that they had to be painful. Apparently, she had not used the pump today, he reasoned, leaving the fun chore of emptying them to him.

After the last course was served and they sat sipping their wine, again breaking with tradition, everyone filed in. Each of them hugged and kissed Diana, then lined up at the head of the table facing her. Apparently, Laura had been chosen as the spokeswoman, for she stepped forward. She mouthed a kiss toward Jeff, then focused on Diana. "Tonight, Diana, my lifelong friend..." she said, choking up. Rallying after a short pause, she continued, "Tonight is your special night. We — all of us — have done our very best to make it just that, at least up to this point," she added, grinning at Jeff.

Locking eyes with Diana, Laura continued, "You allowed, and probably talked your husband into making love to my daughter." When Diana started to say something, Laura hushed her. "Wait, Diana. Remember you wouldn't let me say anything that first night in my apartment. Now, it's my turn to talk — but I speak for all of us. You didn't just send your husband to fuck my baby girl — well, she's a baby to me, and always will be," she grinned. "But you set her up to give her virginity to the one she loved. You graced the occasion with beautiful dining and what turned out to be the 'honeymoon suite, ' everyone was beautifully dressed, everything done in style, the way you have always approached everything.

"Then when I lost my job, you talked your husband into making a job for me. You brought me here to give Ann and me a home in your home. Then, since you knew I loved him as much as Ann did, you offered your husband to me." Laura stopped for a moment to get her voice back in check. "When Jennie and Melissa fell head over heels in love with Jeff, you set the ball rolling to get them out here full time, and again, shared your husband. Arlene has told me, and you have told me, what you did to save your marriage. But again you shared your husband, that time with your daughter."

"We know how much you love Jeff." Looking around at the girls for a second, Laura said, "We don't," her voice cracked again, and she stood for a second before continuing, "have anything to give you to show the appreciation for giving us, all of us, your world. We do give you our friendship, admiration, love — all our love — forever."

"We all vow — vow to you that we will make the best wives to our husband — the husband that you so graciously share with us — and we vow to be the best that we can possibly be to you, for the rest of our lives. Understand Diana, these vows are freely given by all of us. No one has been coerced, or pressured to be part of the group just to make this unanimous. Each chose to do this. There will never be another man in our lives. To us, this is, indeed, forever."

Turning to Jeff, she continued, "Jeff, although we made these vows to Diana, they were to her since she has been so good to all of us, and has shared her husband. To you, who has given yourself to be our husband, and freely shared your home and your life with us, we vow likewise to be the best wives to you, and the best wives to Diana that we can be, for the rest of our lives."

They lined up to give Diana a hug and a kiss again, and it disintegrated into a mutual bawl session. Then they descended on Jeff. Jeff finally got tickled at himself for trying to hide it, and just openly wiped his eyes like the rest of them.

Diana left for a few minutes while the girls kept Jeff company. When she returned, her makeup was repaired, and there was a smile on her face.

Jennie and Melissa came in with a saucer each, Arlene had a cup, and Laura brought a cup along with the coffee. They assembled the coffee serving, Laura poured, and they all left without a word.

"Well, how do you feel?" Jeff asked.

Diana thought for a moment, "Stunned," she said. "These people," she waved her hand as if to indicate that she couldn't come up with the word she wanted, "my sister-wives seem to constantly amaze me."

"Me, too," Jeff admitted. "And that has got to be a gross understatement, but, yeah, me too."

Then it was time for pictures — and more pictures. Finally, at least in Jeff's opinion, they stood in front of the honeymoon suite.

As he took Diana's hands and looked down at her, he thought, How am I ever going to follow that act? Act, heck, that wasn't an act; that was a Broadway production.

He tenderly kissed her, his lips barely touching hers, then as she put her arms around his neck, he picked her up. Still kissing her, he turned round and round, making himself dizzy, but the kiss was hungry now.

"Get a room," someone yelled. He figured it had to be Arlene. He reached down and turned the doorknob, then kicked the door open. Everyone was clapping and a wolf whistle shrilled as, inside a moment later, he kicked the door closed and cut off the sound.

He sat Diana on the couch, and tenderly kissed her. Without asking, he took the glasses he knew would be in the refrigerator and put them on the table. The cork came out of the wine bottle like it was greased. Someone worked on that cork. They know I'm not good at it, and fixed it so that the cork would come out easily. If Diana noticed, she didn't mention it, just picked up her glass and said, "Half. I don't want to be even the least little bit drunk."

"Nor I," he agreed, sitting beside her. Touching their glasses, he said, "To the rest of our lives, with the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Thanks, Jeff. I do love you with all my heart." Sitting her wine on the table, she said, "Now, we need to talk." When he raised an eyebrow in question, she continued, "I've been told that you are really, really uptight about tonight because you're afraid that you won't be able to make this night special for me."

Smiling at him, she said, "We aren't doing this for me tonight. We're doing it for you."

"Diana," Jeff admonished, interrupting her. "This is like a reaffirmation of a couple's wedding vows. Forgive me, but women, generally, like this sort of thing better than men do. Men do this because they know there's going to be trouble ahead if they refuse. Don't ever think, though, that I don't love you just as much as I did when we said our vows originally. No that's wrong," he said, shaking his head, "I love you even more, now."

"Jeff. Jeff," Diana said, touching his lips with her fingertips. "I know all that. Sure I love it, love all the pomp, all the fun that went into having these 'marriages, ' but that's not what I'm talking about. This night is for you. Don't worry, I'll get just as much out of this as you will.

"The only thing that scares me, is that it could blow up in my face. Just remember, and I really mean that, just remember that my intentions are to show how much I love my husband — our husband, and also, I fervently hope to ease your pain a little — maybe a whole lot."

By now, Jeff was totally mystified, and must have shown it. "There are few things that I have ever tried to keep from you," she said. "But I have done something recently, that I have kept from you. I have talked with, and at length, to a psychoanalyst."

Jeff had been mystified before, now he was stunned.

"Within reason, I told her what Jack and I had done. Don't worry, I didn't tell her anything that you did, except for the surveillance. I left Arlene out of the whole thing. I just told her that Jack coerced me into having sex with him, then told her (the psychoanalyst) everything that Jack and I did — in gory detail. Absolutely everything. I told her about your suspecting that something was going on, and how you picked up on it. I told her about your setting the cameras up in the house, and what you filmed — everything. I also included Arnie's tapes, obviously editing out Arlene, and Arnie, but leaving out nothing that Jack and I did."

Diana leaned over and kissed Jeff hard. "Please, Jeff. You're an engineer, more than that, a scientist, an inventor. You obviously have to have an open mind to solve the problems you encounter. Please keep that wonderful mind open for me this night. I know in my heart that this will work, and the analyst agreed. But the only way it will work, and this is from the analyst, is for you to enter wholeheartedly into this with me."

"Tell me what you're referring to Diana? I've never really believed that psychiatry was a legitimate science. What are you talking about doing?"

Looking down at her hands for a moment, she said, "Maybe, I'm talking about your trusting me the way I do you. I trusted you when you called me that night after Jack fucked me, was going to fuck me again. I was so scared when you told me you knew everything, so scared that I would have pissed my pants if I had thought about it — if I had been wearing any pants," she said, morosely. "Nevertheless, I went upstairs and got my pistol, put the magazine in it, walked downstairs and did just as you said. I would have shot Arnie if he had tried to run, because you told me to keep him there, period. I put all our futures, including Arnie's, in your hands without a second thought. That's trust.

"Jeff," she continued, looking him in the eye, "do you have any idea how much trust it takes for me to advocate four women, all of whom are younger than I am, to become your wives, your harem? Not to mention Laura. Think about that for a minute. If I didn't trust you, almost beyond reason, I would never have done that. Never. For most women, it would have been marriage suicide, if there is any such term. But with you, I haven't even had any second thoughts. Oh, I was jealous of Arlene in the beginning, but never of any of the others. And we all know that I can have a bit of the bitch in me from time to time, and to use your expression, get my panties in a wad. I'm not perfect, but my trust in you is as near perfect as anything on this earth can be," she finished, her eyes sparkling with the intensity of her statements.

"I know, Diana. I know. And I thank you for that trust and all you have done for me. But please, just tell me what you have in mind. I'm beginning to get worried about this. I hope this person hasn't put something into your mind that we'll both regret."

"Jeff, you need to think about what you just said. You have just insulted my intelligence more than I can remember anyone ever doing."

Ashen-faced, Jeff sat mute for a moment. "Diana, I ... obviously, it didn't come out the way I meant it to. I..."

"I'm going to pretend that I never heard you make that statement. We have one chance for this to work, Jeff. Now if you really do trust me, real trust, not just talk, then promise me that you will enter into this wholeheartedly, and see it through with me. Just let me lead you through this."

Surely, she isn't going to bring somebody in here and fuck them. I know it had to take a lot of trust to just say and do what I told her on the phone that time. But what is she talking about? Do I have it in me to trust anyone that much?

"Diana, before we go any further, I have this thing with Jack licked, if that is what you're talking about. I..."

"Bull shit,  Jeff. Don't insult me, again, by lying to me like that. You think about that SOB every day, and it gnaws at you. Until you accept that you have a problem, a big problem, we're not going to get anywhere. Then you're going to have to promise me that you will do this with me, to the absolute best of your ability."

"Diana, I know that this must be something really serious ... Well, yeah, I guess that was another dumb statement." Hesitating a moment, then sighing, "Alright. Total trust. Whatever you have in mind, I'll do it."

Diana took his hands again. "See it through to the end? Not just part of it? All the way, until I say, or you will know, that it is done?"

"I promise. All the way. I don't promise to like it. But like when I go shopping with you," he grinned, "I'll stick it out, and do my part."

"Good enough," Diana hesitated a moment, smiled. "I found your tapes."

"What... " Jeff started.

"Just hush. We're going to do something tonight that you just might wind up liking. For the next few hours, I want you to do just as I say."

Diana stood, then leaned down and kissed him, her tongue dueling with his. She started to leave the room, but turned around and handed him his almost untouched wine glass. "I doubt if either of us have had more than a half glass tonight, but you might go ahead and finish that while I'm gone. I doubt if you will get a buzz from one glass, but losing a few inhibitions wouldn't be a bad thing right now," she mysteriously said.

Oh great. Now that's reassuring,  he thought. Not.

"I'll be back in a minute, she said, strutting out of the sitting room into the bedroom and closing the door."

I've never really liked wine, but here goes,  he thought as he downed the glass. Propping his feet on the coffee table, he waited.

The large screen TV suddenly came on. He realized that he was seeing the tape he had made in the playroom of the old house. On the screen, he saw Diana walk nude across the room, wearing only a pair of high heels. He watched her strut around with one of her 120's in her mouth, as she looked for a lighter.

When he heard the bedroom door close behind him, he suspected what he would see before he turned around, but he looked, anyway. Diana had apparently waited for him to turn, because she immediately walked across the room, then looked around as if she were looking for a lighter for her cigarette, just as she had done on the tape.

Diana stopped on the other side of the coffee table, then turned and faced Jeff. She was wearing almost the same thing she had worn in the playroom, plus the pair of thigh high stockings that she had worn to dinner tonight. Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, and holding her hand up at a prissy angle, she said, "Don't say anything. Remember you promised. Now here it is. We're going to watch excerpts from the tapes that you and Arnie recorded. Laura has spent a lot of time editing them for us. She has gotten rid of the hollow, echoing sound caused by the microphone being too far away. She's combined the scenes that I wanted to show, and cut out a lot of the dead time on the tapes, to produce a copy that has a much more professional appearance. The tapes you took with the two cameras in the playroom didn't need much editing, except the work with the sound that I've already mentioned."

Jeff started to respond, but was shushed by Diana, who continued, "I had the beginning of this idea the day I had Arlene seduce you. Remember when you picked me up in Arlene's room and carried me back to our bedroom? Then put me on my hands and knees and made me hold a cigarette while you fucked me, reminding me several times that Jack had done me like that — and I had liked it? Well, we're going to watch this tape, this collage of things that Jack and Arnie did to me, or I did to them. And we're going to do everything again — except, this time, the right man is going to be doing them with me. With his new wife.

"I know that you were hurt — are still hurting. And I know that it has to gall you to think that you have to do the things to me that Jack did, to make me come really big, or to make me come many times. To some extent that is true. When you fuck me hard, order me around, whip my ass, I come lots, and hard. But remember, I still come many times by your nursing my breasts, too. It turns me on like crazy to feel you pulling on my nipples and drinking my milk, even when you're very gentle.

"When you get a nipple in your mouth, and pull hard, my reasoning abilities are gone — nonexistent. Unfortunately, that also happened with Jack. I have apologized, begged, sworn it will never happen again, even plotted with my daughter to seduce you. That worked. Not exactly the way I planned, but Arlene made it work.

"Now we're faced with what to do about the memory of Jack gnawing at you, maybe from now on. I, and the rest of us, love you too much to just ignore it and hope it will go away. The analyst gave me a lot of psychobabble that basically means that we have to replace in your subconscious mind what Jack and I did, with you and I doing it — leaving out Shithead," she said with a grin.

Jeff was unconsciously shaking his head as she set the remote down and walked back around the coffee table. Leaning over, she fiercely kissed him, then with a slight smirk on her face, said, "The absolute least you are going to get out of this, is a whole lot of pussy, and several good dick suckings. I may not give the best blowjob in the world, maybe not the best of your wives even, but you can bet no one will ever try any harder."

As Diana started to turn back around, Jeff said, grinning, "Speaking of your milk, why don't you let me relieve a little of the pressure? Your nipples are leaking. And while I think it is sexy, I know that your breasts have to be uncomfortable. Come here for a second."

Diana leaned over and kissed him again, as he fondled her milk-strutted breasts, but pushed back form him. "I would love for you to, but I haven't used the pump all day, saving my milk for tonight. And yes, they're so full they hurt. But you'll get your chance in a few minutes. Then you can suck them as hard as you want."

Picking up the remote, she replaced the cigarette in her mouth and strutted around the room for a moment, then unpaused the tape, again holding the cigarette in her hand, as she had done on the tape when she talked with Jack. They watched the scene unfold.

After the tape had run past the argument between Jack and Arnie, and the discussion of Arnie's pictures, Diana paused the tape again. "Time to get your clothes off, Baby," she said, putting the cigarette down and motioning for Jeff to stand. Shortly, he was as naked as Jack and Arnie on the tape.

Moving the coffee table back a few feet, Diana grinned at her husband. "Okay, now we start your acting career. I'm going to play the first part through where Jack tells me to get down on my knees and suck his cock. Then I'll stop the tape and you do and say what Jack did."

"Diana," Jeff objected. "I'm no actor. And I'll feel like a fool mimicking what that SOB said."

Suddenly, Diana was standing right in front of Jeff, eyes flashing as she said, "As best you can remember, you will say what he said. It doesn't have to be perfect, but you won't be mimicking. You will be saying and doing the things he did on the tape. Get into it Jeff. This is real; the tape is just a guide. You will do what Jack did, and if I know you, you will do it far better than that idiot. Now forget about acting — maybe I shouldn't have made that remark. This isn't an act. You're going to order me to suck your dick, and to look sexy with the cigarette.

"On the tape, I got upset and told Jack I was going to tell you what had been going on. But he pulled on my nipples and made me come. Just do and say generally what Jack did on the tape. I want you to get mad, to force me to suck your dick, force me to fuck you. And I want you to fuck me — hard. Don't be gentle, don't be considerate — just fuck me. Be Jack for tonight, except you'll be ten times better than Jack ever dreamed of being.

"Watch the tape and do it."

Diana ran the tape for a few minutes, paused it, then turned to Jeff.

Fuck it! I promised, and if that's what she wants, then here goes. Besides, I watched this damn tape many times that she doesn't know about.

Jeff repeated what Jack said as best he could remember, but then realized that he knew generally what Jack had said and done. He could wing it a lot easier than trying to say Jack's words verbatim.

"Pick up that cigarette, Bitch, and look sexy with it, the way I like." As Diana did as instructed, he yanked her to him, and pulled on her nipples, but not very hard. When she frowned and didn't respond, he pulled hard, milking her. He jerked on her nipples, then twisted them enough to hurt. Changing to a stripping motion, he ruthlessly milked her, causing her milk to squirt on both of them and the floor. Diana bucked once, mumbled something and came.

In the middle of her orgasm, he turned her nipples loose and forced her to her knees. "Suck my dick, Bitch. Get it hard so I can fuck you."

Jeff grabbed the back of Diana's head, as Jack had done, demanding she suck harder and hold the cigarette up, to look sexy. Then when his cock was so hard Diana was having to hold it down to get her mouth on it, Jeff remembered that Jack had made Diana get on the couch.

"That's enough, Bitch. Now get on the couch on your back," he said, pulling her toward the couch harder than Jack did. "On your back, get your legs apart. I want to make sure this load goes up your womb. I want to see your belly swell, knowing it's my kid kicking around in there. Come on, Bitch. Spread your legs. While you're at it, put one leg on the back of the couch. I want a straight shot to your womb.

"Now hold your pussylips open for me, and hold that cigarette in your mouth and look sexy." As Diana complied, Jeff knelt between her legs and lined his cock up, then sneered, "Are you ready, Bitch?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but rammed in. Diana was very wet from watching the tape, the milking, and her husband's demands. Jeff's cock slid up her pussy and rammed against her cervix. She managed to pull on the cigarette, hollowing her cheeks as he drew back to her entrance and rammed again. This time her pussy clamped down with the muscles she had developed. Jeff drew back anyway, lifting her ass several inches off the couch before his cock slid back through the clenching tunnel. Then he began to rhythmically slam into her.

Diana squealed, wrapped her legs around his pounding ass, and came again. The unlit cigarette dropped from her lips and she slung her head from side to side, while Jeff continued to ram into her like he was trying to knock her womb out her throat. As her orgasm tapered off momentarily, Diana tried to meet his thrusts. Her breasts were bouncing and jiggling, causing her swollen nubs to spray milk.

Jeff put one hand under her ass, lifted her several inches off the couch and machine-gunned her with his large cock. Oh, crap. He's going to kill me. He's trying to get all of his cock into me, and it just won't go. If I wasn't so damned hot, the pain would be unbearable. Oh, shit, I'm coming again.

Without warning, Jeff's cock spewed sperm. Diana made a strangled sound as come splashed into her, then as Jeff again jammed his cock hard against her cervix, she felt the semen spurt inside her womb. My womb must be open. I guess I'm fertile. If those pills aren't working, he's putting a baby inside me.

That did it. Diana tried to stay conscious, but Jeff's warm sperm inside her womb was too much. Her orgasm peaked and stayed there. She gasped, screamed until she ran out of breath, and fainted.

Jeff pounded the unconscious Diana for another dozen or so strokes, with an occasional push and hold against her womb. His strokes slowly came to a halt with his cock pushed as far inside her as her pussy would let him go.

Her breasts and stomach, as well as his chest, were covered with her milk. There were sprinkles of milk on the back of the couch as well, her breasts continuing to leak as he stared at them.

Still breathing hard, he locked his mouth around a turgid nipple and sucked. Every few seconds he had to take his mouth off and get more air, but he continued on each breast until her milk quit leaking out on its own.

The head of my dick is stinging from hitting her cervix. She wanted to be fucked. Well, she got it.

Glancing at their groins where they were still joined, he thought, Jack didn't put that much sperm in her. Shit, there's come all over her pussy, her thighs, and the couch. It's going to take a major cleaning to get this couch back in shape.

Diana shivered and squeezed. If Jeff's dick hadn't still been hard, her pussy would have spit his cock out, but instead the pressure squirted come past their juncture, making an obscene sound.

When Diana was fully conscious again, Jeff pulled his cock out, then stood and watched the gush of sperm flow out of her pussy. Picking up the pack of cigarettes from the coffee table, he handed them to her, "Hold these. We're going to the bedroom."

"Jeff, wait. I need to clean up a little, and we need to watch the tape."

"I don't need to watch the tapes. They're engraved in my memory; besides, we can watch them anytime. I'm beginning to like this."

Without preamble, he picked her up and headed for the door. As he put her onto the bed, none too gently, he said, "Okay, I think the next thing will be a fucking on your hands and knees with you holding your cigarette very sexily for Jack. But ol' Jack didn't put a load in you the way I just did," motioning to her pussy that had just gushed a big gob of sperm onto the bed.

Jeff noticed that the dresser mirror had been removed and placed on two chairs against the wall, giving a perfect view of the bed. He didn't make any comment about it, but instead, said, "Get on your hands and knees, Bitch. Ol' Jack fucked you like this. Now I'm going to show you what a real man can do. And you had better be as haughty for me as you were for him."

-------

Jeff walked down the hall with Diana in his arms. It was after eight — way after eight. Jeff had cheated and combed his hair while Diana was still out from their last session. He had put on a tee-shirt and a pair of pants. She had put her dress on, but hadn't bothered with anything else.

"I can walk, Jeff. You don't have to carry me all the way. Admittedly," she smiled, "my pussy is sorer than I can ever remember, but..."

"Hush. I like carrying you. And besides, when you pull that dress up and spread your legs for everybody, I want your pussy to leak come on the kitchen floor."

Stopping, he kissed her as she clung to him. "You're the best wife in the whole world. I love you more than life itself."

"Don't let your other wives hear you say that," she giggled. "You might be in some really deep trouble."

Laughing together, he walked on, and in a moment pushed the door open to the kitchen. There was dead silence as Diana pulled her short shirt up, spread her legs, and said, "I'm full of come. And I'm broken. We're going to need some major pussy cream this morning."

Just as she finished, she squeezed her pussy, forcing a large blob of sperm out to hit the kitchen floor with an audible "plop." "Mission accomplished," she said with a straight face.

There was an uproar as Laura and the girls swamped them, kissing hugging, and laughing.

"You guys are going to have to take care of our husband. If my pussy sees his cock for the next week, she's going to start screaming. He fucked my brains out all night. I think we slept for about two hours. Other than that, his cock has been in my pussy or mouth most of the time. Even my tonsils are sore."

A few moments later, Jeff stood Diana up beside the hot tub to remove her dress. Then picked her up again and lowered her gently into the water.

"I love you my darling wife," he purposely said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Now, I'm going to take a nap. About eight hours of nap, as a matter of fact."

As Jeff turned to go, Diana called to him. "Wait a minute, Big Man. Fess up. Tell your wives what happened."

"Well," he said, feeling his face heat. "She fucked me unconscious," he blurted. Then turned and left to the chorus of catcalls, wolf whistles, and laughter. He wasn't about to tell them how sore his dick was.

I don't know how long my dick will be sore, but I can guarantee it will not be in another pussy today — maybe not tomorrow.

It didn't look like anyone had been assigned to cook breakfast for him. He didn't care. He went to their bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and collapsed on the bed.

-------

Hours later, he awoke to the sensation of pleasure/pain. Managing to open one eye a little, he groaned when he saw what was going on. Ann was gently cupping his balls, while her mother moved her mouth slowly up and down his sore dick. When she realized he was awake, she increased her sucking.

He groaned as his prostate cramped. Apparently the pump was sore too. As his sperm geysered out of his cock and hit the back of Laura's throat with force, she said, "Uurp," gagged for a second, then repeatedly swallowed, her eyes round.

"Now, me," Ann insisted as they swapped, Ann receiving the last gush and the ensuing dribbles.

Wiping her mouth, laughing, Laura said, "I think we're going to have to measure him again, Ann. I'll bet that he's coming more than that half cup that he did in the kitchen."

"If I am," Jeff tried to grump, but failed miserably with the grin on his face, "it's because of those damn shakes of yours."

Laura laughed at Jeff as Ann reached over and wiped a bit of come off Laura's mouth. When she grinned at her daughter and thanked her, Laura turned back to Jeff. "We were sent to wake you up. We're having a family meeting about school. Diana said to get you up and get some coffee in you."

"Has Diana gotten any sleep today?"

Laura and Ann grinned at each other. "She's been bouncing around all day. She's wired," Laura answered, smirking at him.

Jeff groaned and got up to go to the bathroom.

-------

Jeff, showered and shaved, then sat in the living room with Diana snuggled in his lap, with his second cup of life-giving coffee on the table nearby. Diana had her braless breasts pressed against him, and her face nestled against his neck.

"We're going to do more of that, a lot more," she whispered, "after I can walk again. I don't know which one of us was more sore, but I can sure feel for the others, now."

"Me too," he answered, kissing her forehead. "Laura woke me up with a blowjob, and I couldn't figure out whether the pleasure or the pain was the strongest. But last night was the only time I've ever passed out in my life, from anything. Let alone, fucking. That was straight out fucking," he chuckled, "but I did it with love."

"With love,  my ass," Diana responded, raising up and looking at his face. "You were pissed at Jack for fucking me, and me for fucking Jack. You took it out on my pussy. But that was part of it. I'm not complaining. I appreciate your doing what I asked. We're going to keep playing those tapes until they don't bother you any more. Maybe neither of us will ever forget Jack, but it's got to help knowing that you own the woman that he tried to get — you own her body and soul," she smiled, with tears trickling from her eyes.



-------

Chapter 25

A little later, they all sat at the large kitchen table, coffee or soft drinks in front of everyone. "Okay," Jeff said as he put his cup down. "Then we're all agreed that we are going to try having a teacher come in. I don't know exactly how it will work, but if we get any responses from the ad, hopefully the teacher will know how to set up everything. Otherwise, they would probably be the wrong person, anyway. I think we will have to have some interaction, somehow, with the local school. But, as I said, I don't know. We have another couple of weeks before school starts. If this doesn't work out," he said, motioning to the advertisement draft on the table, "we can always enroll you girls in school, and work out the private teacher later. The important thing, I think, is to get the advertisement in the papers, and see what happens."

"What about a classroom, Dad?" Arlene asked.

"Well," Jeff said, smiling. "We certainly aren't pressed for space." Thinking for a moment, he continued, "I think it would be best if we kept everything pertaining to school on the second floor. That way the teacher could come in the front door, and ride the elevator directly to the second floor. Since the house is on a steep slope, the elevator's ground floor is actually one floor below the first floor. I'm glad the house was constructed that way. Anyone coming in is presented with a large room and an elevator. To go anywhere else, they have to get on the elevator. I can override access to the first floor, then the elevator just won't stop until it gets to the second floor. We could also, tactfully, tell the teacher that the first floor is our private dwelling. Some people would not understand our way of life.

"Seriously girls," he said looking at each of them, "you are going to have to be extremely careful about what you say in front of anyone outside our family." As Arlene started to say something, Jeff waved his hand, "I know. I know. All of you are smart enough to recognize that, and it isn't the first time that I have mentioned it, but be very, very careful. One wrong word could destroy our family."

Everyone was sobered by the thought. Finally, Laura cleared her throat and joked, trying to liven the group up a little, "Everything pertaining to school remains on the second floor, except homework. You're not going to be able to get out of that."

All the girls groaned.

Laura continued, looking at Jeff, "I know you mentioned college courses earlier, and we don't want to forget them. Not just for Diana and me, but for each of the girls, too. That's something we need to discuss when we're interviewing the teacher. If he or she doesn't know..."

"She," Jeff broke in. "We don't want a man."

"Don't want another male sniffing your pussy?" Laura laughed.

"Exactly," Jeff said, sitting straighter in his chair, obviously not joking in the slightest. Then laughing at himself, he said, "Heck, I would be a damn fool to bring in competition."

Everybody laughed at that, but a look passed between Laura and Diana. They both had recognized that the Alpha Male had become a little restless for a moment.

"As I started to say, there are many high schools that allow students to attend a nearby college in conjunction with the high school's regular curriculum. They get high school and college credits for the same courses, if I understand the process correctly.

"You girls," she said motioning to them, "are a little like the old Yogi Bear cartoon. He was a little 'smarter than the average bear.' You're all straight 'A' students; and generally don't even have to crack a book. That's a formula for disaster when you get into college. You will have to study there, and unless you develop good study habits quickly, you're probably going to get into big trouble."

Ann, Jennie, Arlene, and Melissa had a quick conference before Melissa offered, "There's another reason to have a teacher come here, instead of us attending regular school, that maybe you haven't thought of," she said, indicating the adults. "It's normal for kids to date, and when they don't date by the time they are our age, people began to wonder about them. In our old school, we could just make a comment about those two getting AIDS, and say something like 'I'm going to wait to date.' Nothing much was thought about it; although, we were asked out pretty regularly, anyway. But..."

"But," Laura picked up, "when there are four of you going to the same small school, living at the same house, and shunning boys, people will start to wonder. Good point," she finished, looking at Jeff.

"But it's none of their business..." Jeff started.

"Daddy, you and Mom were married. You didn't have pressure to date like we do. I had already been accused of being a lezzie by the time I was fifteen. I did have a boyfriend, well sort of, but no one knew about him (Arnie), and they thought I was strange for not dating. Now that I'm sixteen, everybody would be asking, why. And it is important to us. The term, of course, is peer pressure, and a girl can sure feel pressured to date — among other things."

Diana got up to pour more coffee for Laura, Jeff and herself. "Okay, again, we're agreed; we bring in a teacher if possible. I guess if that doesn't work, it's home-school, or something through the Internet." Looking at Jeff, she continued, "Why don't you call our ad in to the papers while we start lunch."

"Yeah, I figured I would get that little chore, so I've already looked up the newspaper numbers, but we have something else to consider."

"Who sleeps, where, tonight?" Ann popped up.

When everybody laughed, Jeff said, "Well ... that's pretty close. I spoke with the contractor just before our family meeting. He wants to start early tomorrow morning with our bedroom expansion. I offered him a big bonus if he could do everything in four days. He said he was going to start ordering the materials as soon as we hung up. He said he thought he could get all the stuff we picked out, in Denver."

"Hey, that's great, husband," Jennie teased. "Then we can have our big bed delivered."

"I thought you said you were still sore," Ann remarked.

"I'm not that sore," Jennie quickly responded. "And we're his wives now, no more sleeping alone."

"What big bed?" Jeff asked.

"Oh, the one we bought several weeks ago," Diana answered mysteriously, grinning.

"But that was before we knew that we were all going to..." Jeff began, a questioning look on his face.

They all looked at him as if he were retarded — a mere man.

Jeff mentally shrugged, figuring he had better change the subject. "Okay, but we need to move all of our personal stuff out of our bedroom and Arlene's room, also everything out of the bathrooms and closets, so the contractor can work."

"Where are we going to move it to, Dad?" Arlene asked. "Oh, I know," she quickly answered herself, "the 'honeymoon suite.'"

Jeff grinned, "Sounds good to me. I have some good memories about that place."

All the women made some type of agreeing statement, but they were all much more serious about it than Jeff was.

"Does anyone have a suggestion about where the furniture should go while the work is being done on our suite?" Jeff asked.

"Why not just put it on the side of the main hallway, past where you turn to go out the back? That hall is plenty wide enough. We just need to be sure to leave enough room to get the riding vacuum past, so we can clean. I'm assuming the contractor will be responsible for moving the furniture," Diana said.

"He said they would move it, and cover the carpet. He claims that nothing will be harmed, and we won't be able to tell an expansion was done," Jeff said. "Putting the furniture in that hallway sounds like the easiest solution. I had thought about putting it in the first conference room on the right, but the hallway sounds like a better idea."

"One more thing, ladies. And I really hate to say this, but the bras go back on while the crew is in the house."

"Oooh, poor baby. I'll bet it hurt to have to say that," Diana joked. "Maybe we need to kiss it and make it better," she teased as she got up and stood by Jeff, raising her top.

As Diana shoved a nipple into his mouth, Jeff mumbled, "Hey, I thought you were supposed to kiss..." He stopped trying to talk as she shoved some titty in with the nipple, effectively silencing his complaints.

The move was put off for an hour when Jeff relieved Diana's pressure, then Arlene complained that she had as much milk as her mother. Jeff wound up in the living room in the recliner while everyone either sat on his face or his dick. He gave four of them sperm injections. Diana, laughing, cleaned him up with a washcloth, then noticed a trail of spots on the carpet.

"Arlene," she yelled. "You guys aren't done, yet. Get in here and clean this carpet where you dribbled."

When the girls came back into the living room, Diana tried to be stern, but lost it and began giggling as she pointed to the obvious trail toward the door.

"Don't look at me," Laura said, "I sat on his face." That broke them all up.

Jennie got the carpet spray and paper towels. "You girls should cap your hand over your pussy," Diana said, trying to keep from laughing.

"We did," all the girls said in unison.

That really brought the house down. Then everybody looked at Jeff, who was trying to get his pants back on over another erection.

"What?" he asked, a blank look on his face.

-------

With all seven of them working, the clothing move took only thirty minutes. As the women rearranged the suite's furniture for multiple occupancy, sorted out clothes and cosmetics, Jeff went back to the kitchen and called in the ad. It was to run for the next week in both the morning and evening papers.

Thinking for a minute, he called the principal of the local school. After introducing himself, he reminded Doctor Adams that he and Diana had stopped by several weeks ago when they had seen a car at the school.

"Did you wind up with any vacation this summer?" Jeff joked.

"Well, I did have a couple weeks, but as I said when you dropped in earlier, principals don't usually have as much time off as teachers do, at least that's the way it works here," he said chuckling. "There is always plenty for me to do."

After a few pleasantries, Doctor Adams asked, "What can I do for you Mr. Matthews?"

"We just put an ad in the papers about a teacher for the girls. We've decided to have them schooled at home."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that Mr. Matthews. I presume that's the reason for the call — to notify me that they aren't going to enroll here, after all?"

"Actually, I realized that I might be missing my best source of information on the subject of a teacher. Is there anyone you would recommend?"

"Tell me again how old the children are. I'm sorry, but it slipped my mind."

"Two sixteen, and two seventeen — all girls. They're all above average, absolutely straight 'A' students. They will all be seniors this year."

"Uhmm. Sounds like I need to be trying to persuade you to enroll them with us, rather than suggesting a teacher for them. We need more students like you described." There was a moment of hesitation, then "I'll tell you what I'll do. I have a good friend that retired after her husband died. Doctor Helen Boswell. She's a retired principal, and has more degrees than I can remember. She's a classy lady, and she is also the reason I have this job. The school board was going to hire someone else; someone less qualified in my opinion — but then, that's my opinion. However, it happened to be Helen's opinion also. I had known her for years, but I never would have expected her to go to bat for me — at least to the extent that she did. Well, maybe it's time for me to return the favor," he said almost to himself.

"Look, I know she doesn't think she's interested, but she needs something to do. Unless I miss my guess, she's still grieving over her husband, although she won't admit it. I am almost certain I can get her to meet with you. The rest will be up to you.

"She can be the best friend you would ever want, but if you get on her bad side — well, just don't go there," he laughed.

"We don't have caller ID on these phones; that other five bucks a month would break the school system I guess," he joked. "Give me your number and I'll do my best to get her to call you."

Jeff gave him the house number and his cell number, but cautioned about the cell number not working consistently in the mountains. "I really appreciate this," Jeff said. "I owe you one. Keep that in mind. I like to pay my debts, one way or the other."

"Mr. Matthews, don't tempt me. Schools are always begging for something, and mine is no different."

"If she is as good as you say she is, and this works out, you won't be sorry."

Diana walked in just before Jeff finished his conversation. When he hung up, she looked at him inquisitively. "That sounded like an interesting conversation."

"I should be getting a call, hopefully very soon, from a prospective teacher."

An hour later, they were all in the theater watching a movie when the phone rang. Diana paused the player as Melissa answered the phone.

"Matthews' residence, Melissa — Yes, Ma'am, Mr. Matthews is here. One moment please," she said, muting the phone. "It's a woman. Maybe it's our new teacher," she grinned handing the phone to Jeff.

Taking the phone, Jeff activated it and answered.

"Mr. Matthews, I am Helen Boswell. I understand that you had a conversation a short while ago with Doctor Adams concerning a teacher for four girls. Is that correct?"

The woman was barely civil; her voice clipped. "Yes Doctor Boswell. We have four girls, all seniors this year. Two are sixteen and two are seventeen."

"Doctor Adams tells me that you told him that they are exceptional students. Are they, indeed, special students, or just special to you? And yes, I am completely aware of how this conversation sounds, but if they are not 'absolutely straight 'A' students, ' as you told Doctor Adams, I am not the least bit interested."

Jeff almost called her a bitch and hung up on her, but took a breath and said, "They are very special to me, but they are very special students, as well. Whether you believe it or not, none of these girls has ever had any discipline problems. They are all extremely intelligent, and are self-motivators. If they were not these things and more, we would not have even considered having them schooled here. However, courtesy is also part of their education, and from what I have heard so far, they would be the instructors in that subject as it relates to you," Jeff said, trying desperately to keep his voice level.

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. "I won't apologize yet, but I will tell you this. Doctor Adams told me where you lived, and it's obvious that no one could buy such a ... house, if they were not rich. I tried this once before, shortly after I retired. The couple was rich, and their 'child' was, shall we say, so undisciplined, that I quit after a day. I am not a spoiled rich kid's teacher, and never will be. I enjoy teaching, and even when I was a principal, I taught at least one class per day; usually the gifted class."

There was a pause, and as Jeff started to speak, Doctor Boswell continued, "I'm on my cell now, in route to visit relatives near Winter Park. Instead, if you are willing, I think I would like to do this: I suggest that we meet in Winter Park tonight. One of the resorts there has a nice restaurant. I know the manager and I think I can get a private dining room. I'm not an impulsive person, but I like to complete things as soon as possible. I promised Doctor Adams that I would meet with you, so if you are willing to bring your family, we can have a meal, then make our decisions based on our observations and conclusions. Is that agreeable with you?"

It was Jeff's turn to chuckle. "To be frank with you, Doctor Boswell, I almost called you a name, and hung up on you."

"I'm not a mousey little schoolmarm," she said, affecting a drawl. Her voice changed back to its cultured, clipped tones. "But I do know how to teach gifted students; however, I will not teach children that expect to be given good grades just because they are rich. Whether or not we meet is up to you. I will have fulfilled my obligation to Doctor Adams. If you do not wish to meet with me, though, I think I can recommend one other person that might not be committed for the school year."

"Okay," Jeff said, "give me the name of the restaurant, and directions. We'll be there."

Doctor Boswell continued, "I will arrange for a reservation at seven. If I do not call you back, expect that. I will put the reservation under your name."

She gave Jeff the name of the restaurant and directions which he committed to memory. He told her that they would be there at seven, and she hung up without even saying good-bye.

When he pushed the Off button on the phone, there were six pairs of eyes staring at him. As he put the phone on the table, he leaned back in the chair without saying anything, purposely. "Well?" everybody chorused.

"That was certainly — different. I really don't know. She comes across as pushy, at best," he said, refusing to call her the name that had come to mind. "We have a meeting with her at seven in a restaurant in Winter Park."

"Tonight?" Arlene squealed, jumping up.

The theater was almost instantly empty of everyone but Jeff. I don't think they could have left any faster if they had teleported,  he mused as he got up to dress. When he stepped into the hallway, there wasn't anyone in sight.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the 'honeymoon suite's bedroom with his clothes, heading for another shower. There were nude females bustling about, but no one was interested in playing. Apparently they were taking showers two at a time, while others were laying out clothes, and choosing shoes. There are more bathrooms in this house than I can count. And I haven't seen one yet that didn't have a shower. Why don't they just spread out a little. Logical or not, he was not going to suggest it. They would just look at him, he figured, and pity him for being a little challenged, that is, a man.

Despite all the hubbub, everyone was ready and getting into the Escalade in forty five minutes. The women and girls all wore conservative dresses, but there was no doubt from the styling and materials that the clothing was expensive. Diana and Laura wore black spikes, but the girls wore more conservative heels.

They did not have to wait in line, only because they had reserved a private dining room. As they walked into the room, there was a well-dressed lady sitting at the other end of the table. She had a very pretty face, and shoulder length, dark brown hair with a streak of gray. From what he could see, she had a well-defined muscle structure, and a trim figure. As Jeff appraised her, he realized that she wasn't skinny, but had a thin build that made her medium sized breasts seem almost too large for her body. She appeared to be about Diana's height. He guessed her age to be between forty and forty-five, but he thought she would have to be older to already be retired. She was a striking person who exuded an aura of confidence, just sitting there.

They were told that someone would be there shortly for their drink order.

The woman gracefully stood, and introductions ensued.

Jeff seated Diana and Laura, and the girls seated themselves. Jeff wound up at one end of the table with Diana and Laura flanking him. The girls were seated two to either side of the table, while Doctor Boswell sat at the other end.

Jeff and his family all ordered soft drinks or tea, while Doctor Boswell hesitated, then ordered a soft drink.

When they were alone again, Jeff said, "Doctor Boswell, feel free to order anything you would like. The girls are obviously not old enough to drink, at least not in a restaurant," he amended. "We seldom drink alcohol, even then, nothing stronger than wine. We have nothing against it, and in fact have shared some wine this past week. Even the girls had a half glass, but please feel free to not be constrained by us."

Doctor Boswell had an odd look on her face for a moment, then answered, "I think you misinterpreted my hesitation." Clearing her throat, she said, "I used to drink a glass of wine when my husband and I went out. Keep in mind I have taught school, or been an administrator in a school system for many years. Although many educators subscribe to the system of 'do as I say, not as I do.' I was always uncomfortable with that. Parents often tell their children to refrain from drinking while they sit on the couch with empty beer cans strewn about them. My drinking was always private, with modest amounts, even then. The irony is that my husband was killed by a drunk driver. I haven't tasted even a sip of wine in over two years. That's what crossed my mind when the steward asked for my order."

Everyone instantly gave their condolences, and Jennie reached over and touched Doctor Boswell's hand and said, "We're sorry."

The drinks arrived. Jeff asked if they could have a few more minutes to make up their minds, and the waiter said he would come back.

When the food discussions were over, the orders were eventually taken, and they were alone again, Jeff looked around the table and said, "Doctor Boswell, you spoke a little about a problem you had with a 'rich' family. Perhaps, I should give you a little background while we're waiting on our food."

Jeff spent a few minutes giving a stilted version of their early life. Finally, Diana interrupted. "We have all assumed that you wanted to get to know our family, for you, and us, to decide whether you would take the teaching job. Am I correct?"

When Doctor Boswell nodded her head, Diana continued, "Well, let's go back and tell a little more of the details, so you can understand why our family is the family it is." Jeff glanced at Diana, showing concern if this was the right thing to do. She winked at him and started, "When Jeff said we were married young, he failed to say that he got me pregnant when I was thirteen. No, that isn't exactly correct. We managed to get me pregnant. When my parents mentioned an abortion, Jeff had a fit. There was no way our child was going to be aborted. We got married. He worked and went to school. We lived with my parents in a room that had walls so thin you could practically hear a whisper in the next room. Not romantic for newlyweds.

"Jeff seldom got eight consecutive hours sleep, many times no more than two hours. But we made it, and we made it through his college years the same way. When he became a freelance engineer, he still worked all the time, both on his invention and the jobs he picked up to keep the creditors at bay.

"Laura had the same thing happen to her, but the gentleman ran away, leaving her to raise her daughter alone. At least Jeff and I had each other. She had no help other than her parents, and they were killed while Ann was still very young. Laura made it through college on guts and brains. She had no more sleep than Jeff did, sometimes less, I would imagine. But understand this, the best things that ever happened to us were those pregnancies. For from them, we now have Arlene and Ann."

"From that work..."

"And us working as a team," Jeff interrupted with.

"Jeff managed to sell the patent rights to his invention. The house that you alluded to on the phone when you talked with Jeff, came with the package when he sold his invention. Laura is Jeff's assistant, and will be working with him on his next invention. Ann, if you remember from the introductions, is Laura's daughter. We are Jennie and Melissa's legal guardians. But we are all one family, everyone equal. And yes, I do mean all the girls, also. Jeff is obviously the head of the household, but major decisions, for instance the decision about a teacher, are made in a family meeting."

Jeff spoke up, "The 'girls' as we are wont to call them, are young women. We will probably still think of them as the 'girls' when they are fifty, since they have been our kids all their lives, but make no mistake, they are young adults. Diana mentioned to me only a couple of days ago that the girls had taken over more than half of the food preparation. They maintain our grocery list, and do almost all the cleaning. No one assigned those jobs to them, they just knew the work had to be done, and did it."

"Don't worry," Jeff laughed, they are also teenagers. "Sometimes I have to leave the room when the screeching becomes too intense," he said, grinning at Arlene, who stuck her tongue out at him. "But these girls have never fought. And don't consider them to be wimps, or submissive, or whatever you would prefer to call it. They are far from it. But somehow, they have always seemed to want to do the same thing at the same time. I guess I keep expecting to hear an argument, but I've never heard one.

"We want, and I mean the whole family, not just the parents, to have a school with subjects that will challenge the intellects of these gifted young women. I only regret that we did not have the money to do this years ago."

Doctor Boswell started to comment, but the food arrived. By unspoken agreement they put the discussion on hold and dug in to a splendid meal.

When the meal was over, and the dishes carried away, the waiter asked if they would like after-dinner drinks. Everyone ordered coffee.

Jeff grinned at Doctor Boswell. "We buy the stuff in five pound bags, several of them at a time," he laughed. "And, now we're ready to answer your questions."

Everyone looked at Doctor Boswell. A bit flustered, she said, "Well, I guess the first thing I need to do is to apologize for my attitude on the phone. Doctor Adams was insistent that I call you, and he wrangled a promise from me to do so. He bluntly told me that I needed to get out of the house and quit feeling sorry for myself. I'm going to have to apologize to him, also," she mused, "for you, Mr. Matthews, are not the only one to whom I was rude."

"Certainly; apology accepted, Doctor Boswell. I'm glad I didn't hang up on you," he grinned. Everyone laughed a little at that.

Doctor Boswell looked around the table at the intent faces of the strikingly beautiful women watching her. Early on she had realized that Jeff was a unusual male. He was far younger than herself, she reasoned, yet she was attracted to him. His slightly rugged countenance, good looks, and tall, muscular frame seemed to draw her eyes. He and his wife were obviously intelligent. Laura had said little so far; not enough for a guess at her intelligence. She would have had to have a good intellect to work her way through college under the circumstances they had outlined, though. Other than introductions, and Jennie's one comment, she had not heard the girls say anything, except in general conversation during dinner. Even then there was little to judge their intelligence. They were well-mannered. However, Jeff's and Diana's comments spoke truth, if she was any judge of character. There was an underlying something, that she had not been able to pick up on, but she believed what they had told her.

She, at first, had almost confused Diana with the girls. Laura looked, just barely, old enough to have a sixteen-year-old daughter, assuming she had her daughter at thirteen or fourteen. But Diana seemed scarcely past her teens, if that. Jeff looked like he was about thirty-one or thirty-two. But Jeff had mentioned the military. Wasn't that for four years? The numbers didn't add up. He had to be older than thirty, unless he was another prodigy like herself, and they hadn't said anything about that. Bemused, she came back with a start, only seconds had passed, though. Uncharacteristically, she stumbled for words. Then she startled herself by saying, "Sitting at a restaurant table with limited time will never accomplish anything of value to me. I need to see your house, the area you are going to use for your classroom, talk to the girls privately and at length, give them a test — many things.

"I packed an overnight bag, thinking I would spend the night at the hotel, then go visit my relatives tomorrow." Hesitating a moment, then smiling a little, she continued, "I'll admit, you have piqued my curiosity. Unless you have rejected me as a possible teacher for your children, and you children," she hastily added, belatedly remembering their family meetings to decide issues, "have also already rejected me, I think I need to step out and give you a few minutes to decide if we need to go further with this."

As she walked out, the waiter came in and Jeff settled the bill, leaving a good tip. When the waiter left, Jeff looked around the table at his harem. "Yes or no? One hundred percent, or we tell her thank you, but no."

"Yes," everyone said, almost in unison.

"My vote also," Jeff said.

Everybody, including Jeff, needed to go to the bathroom before starting for home. At the door of the restroom the women met Doctor Boswell coming out. "Is your meeting over, already?" she questioned.

"Sure," Diana quipped, "We told you we had family meetings. We didn't say they took long. Remember, we said the girls generally agree on everything. Jeff, Laura and I tend to do the same." Just to put her off a bit, Diana didn't say which way the vote went, just went on into the restroom.

Doctor Boswell was still standing there a few minutes later when Arlene came out. Boswell, not being your "average bear" either, had figured it out.

"I'm riding with you," Arlene said as she walked past, grinning.

Boswell smirked and followed her to the parking lot. Arlene waved to her dad as they got into the car. "Should we wait for your parents?" Doctor Boswell asked as she started her car.

"Why?" Arlene asked, "I know the way home. Besides," she continued, "if you balk on our driveway, I'll get to drive the rest of the way. Mom never lets me drive up the driveway."

"Driveway?" Boswell questioned, pulling out on the highway.

Arlene looked at her with an unfathomable expression. "Ah, it's no big deal at night. You can't see into the abyss much with it dark, and besides, you went to the bathroom before we left. You don't have to worry about that."

I know she's teasing me. I just know she is. But then again, they did say they lived on the mountain where that conference center was built. I hope she is kidding. She had to force herself to not tighten her grip on the stirring wheel.

-------

A little later, Arlene directed Doctor Boswell to drive around to the back of the house. When they stopped, Boswell sat with her hands still clinched on the steering wheel. There had been one point where the road leveled out on one of the switchbacks and her headlights reached off into nothing. In essence, I've already invited myself for the night. Jeff just nodded his head when I mentioned the overnight bag. Foregone conclusion that I would stay. That's good. I don't care what happens, I'm not driving down that driveway in the dark. No one can make me do that. No one! If they get mad at me and won't let me stay in the house, I'll sleep in the car.

Belatedly realizing that her thinking had left the reasonable far behind, she became aware of someone talking. "Arlene, have you been teasing Doctor Boswell about the driveway?"

"No Mom. I warned her that it was bad when we left the restaurant, but I didn't tease her — uh, much."

Jeff opened the door. "Are you okay?" he asked, obviously concerned.

Boswell forced herself to release the wheel and step out of the vehicle. Even in the outside lights, it was obvious her face was white. "You have a houseguest for tonight," she managed in a voice that sounded strange even to her. "Maybe, forever. I am not driving back down that driveway in the dark. I'm not sure I'm driving down it in the daylight."

Jeff tried to reason with her, "But you can't see much of the drop-off in the dark. It's hard to know..."

Boswell cut him off, "It is hard to know death, and I don't want to get acquainted with it either. Death and that driveway might just be synonymous."

By then everyone had gathered around. Diana, trying to hide a giggle, finally burst out and laughed. This caught on and everybody joined in, except Doctor Boswell.

Diana took her arm. "I'm sorry. Please don't think we're laughing at you. We have all been through the same thing. I swear if I had thought of it I would have peed my pants the first time I rode up that thing. I refused to drive it for a while. But even I got used to it — well, mostly," she finished, a bit sheepishly.

Doctor Boswell grinned back at her, and went to her trunk where she got the key in the lock on the second try. Picking up her bag, she glanced in the direction of the driveway, "How are you going to get up and down that ... that ... in the wintertime when there is snow and ice on it?"

Jeff laughed as he gently took her bag from her, "Who says we are going to. We have a very large freezer. Of course, I guess our teacher would have to commute every day," he said deadpan, just to get a rise out of her as they walked to the back door.

Doctor Boswell stopped so quickly Arlene almost walked into her. "I would leave right now," she hissed, "but I would have to drive down that damn driveway."

"Jeff," Diana admonished, "quit teasing Doctor Boswell. That thing almost scared me to death my first time — and my second, and my third..." she finished, grinning, not able to resist.

Jeff smiled at Boswell, "We have several vacant apartments, and a whole lot of suites. No one is going to drive up and down the driveway when it has snow or ice on it. I have a company contracted to plow it daily when there is snow, and I bought a truck and snowplow to use if we must go in or out when the company can't get it plowed in time. I'm sorry we teased you, but the truth is, it scares us, too."

When they got inside, Jeff told Arlene to escort Doctor Boswell to a suite and get her settled in, then to meet in the kitchen for coffee.

"Okay, Dad. Come on Doctor Boswell, let's find you a nice suite and get your stuff put away."

A couple of minutes later, Boswell was hanging her clothing up when Arlene, in an oh-so-innocent voice said, "If you need fresh panties, I have some that will probably fit."

Boswell stopped, then finally started giggling. "I did not pee my pants. Although," she confessed, "it might have been because I used the restroom just before we left the restaurant." Turning toward Arlene, Boswell chuckled, "If I do become your teacher, I'm going to get you back — you can bank on it."

Arlene knew she was kidding. Well, she thought she was kidding.

When they walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, they were still laughing.

"What's so funny?" Laura asked. "Has Arlene been teasing you again?"

"That's just it," Boswell laughed, "I know she's teasing me, but everything she says seems to turn out to be true, also."

"Welcome to the Matthews clan," Jeff said. "That's the way I feel much of the time around here. Sometimes these women say more with one look than I can get out in five minutes. Often I just don't have a clue."

A look passed between Diana, Laura and Doctor Boswell, and they burst out laughing.

"Oh, shit," Jeff moaned.

Everybody laughed, and Jeff tried to look as if he were terribly abused.

"Poor baby," Diana teased.

Jeff laughed with everyone else, then motioned to the large kitchen table, and said, "Have a seat, Doctor Boswell. What would you like to drink? We have coffee, soft drinks, juices, and several wines."

"The wine sounds inviting, but ... I want to keep a clear mind and continue our discussion, so I guess, just coffee."

In short order everyone was seated at the table. Laura put out a cake they had bought from a local bakery, with plates and silverware. When everyone was comfortable, Jeff looked at Doctor Boswell and remarked, "I guess a kitchen is an odd place to discuss business, and we certainly have conference rooms, as well as other rooms more comfortable, but we tend to have our family meetings here. So we'll continue with that tradition, if it's okay with you."

Boswell accepted a piece of cake from Melissa, and answered. "Well, this kitchen is certainly big enough — the largest one I have ever seen, by far, and beautiful in its own right. I had rather see your family in a relaxed atmosphere. That's the reason we're here. This is just fine."

Taking a bite of cake, she smiled at Diana, "Is this from the bakery in Winter Park?"

Diana nodded. "We stopped by and bought three, all different. This is the first one we've tried."

"I've bought their cakes for years. I haven't found one that wasn't delicious, yet," Doctor Boswell said, smiling.

Doctor Boswell had put a binder on the table when she first sat down. She pushed it toward Jeff and said. "This is my resume. Behind the resume are copies of relevant materials — diplomas, certificates, letters of recommendation from when I was seeking the principal's position, as well as a recommendation from the school board, which I served on for five years. There is also a reference list with phone numbers and addresses. Most of the references are from people I have worked with — some my peers, two who were my superiors, and a number who were teachers working for me. The board members are listed separately. I have no problem with you checking with any, or all of these people. As a matter of fact, I encourage it."

"I know you didn't have time to do this after we talked on the phone," Jeff commented. "Were you looking for a job somewhere else? Doctor Adams led me to believe you were not looking for work."

Doctor Boswell shrugged. "He's right. I wasn't looking for work. I prepared this about a year ago with the intention of looking into a field other than teaching, but I just never got around to taking the next step."

Jeff opened the binder and glanced through it. The first two pages were the resume itself. With a shock, he realized there must have been twenty pages of diplomas, and certificates. Starting back at the beginning, he quickly read through the resume. Stunned, he passed it on to Diana.

Laura slid her chair closer to Diana, and they started reading together.

Jeff got up and got the pot, refilled his and Doctor Boswell's cups. He and Boswell carried on an idle conversation while Diana and Laura finished reading the resume, glancing through the other section, as Jeff had done. They passed the binder on down to Arlene, who carried it to the other side of the table. All four girls gathered round to read it together.

"Shit," Arlene exclaimed as she read through the education part, then capped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

Jeff noted that Doctor Boswell's lips twitched. He would bet it was the beginning of a smirk, but she had stopped it before it really started.

When the girls were done, Arlene pushed the binder toward Jeff. Jennie and Melissa returned to their seats, and Ann got the pot and asked who wanted their coffee warmed up. When the pot was empty, she rinsed it out, and started another pot brewing.

"To understate the obvious," Jeff said, "I guess you're qualified."

Boswell chuckled, "I didn't meet my husband until I was thirty-five. I guess I needed something to keep busy, so I went to school at night and during the summer. I curtailed the schooling somewhat after I married, though."

Opening the binder again and glancing at the first page, Jeff said, "You had a BS when you were seventeen?"

Doctor Boswell had just finished her cake; she pushed her plate back and responded, "Well, actually it was a double. They kicked me out of high school when I was fourteen. I was too young to work, so I had to do something," she finished, grinning.

"If you don't mind my asking, why didn't you go into research, or work for any of the big corporations? Forgive me for saying this, but you could have made a lot more money in some other field."

Boswell sipped her coffee and leaned back in her chair. "I was offered jobs when I got my BS in chemistry, and the one in mathematics, but by then I was already teaching. It was something I loved, was good at, and I didn't want to change. I never made a lot of money, but I have never regretted my choice. Every time I obtained another diploma, I had a little more to give.

"Certainly, most students didn't profit from it. Unfortunately, the majority only wanted to get through school, get a job and get on with their lives. But occasionally a student came along with a thirst for learning. Those students were the main reason I continued as an educator. There is nothing like a truly intelligent student who wants to learn.

"There comes a time when we tend to become burned out, no matter what the job, or how much we love it. After my husband was killed, I guess that happened to me," she finished, the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes.

"After a while, though, I became bored sitting and staring at four walls. I spent several weeks visiting the national parks and other areas where my husband and I used to go on our vacations, but it wasn't the same. It just brought back memories," she choked out, holding back a sob, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

Jennie and Ann, the closest to her, quickly got up and hugged her. Laura got a paper towel and handed it to Doctor Boswell.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Boswell repeated. "I'm just making a fool out of myself."

"Nonsense," Jeff said. "You've just shown us that you're a caring person."

Glancing around the room, individually catching everyone's eye, he finally turned to Doctor Boswell. Boswell saw the exchange and wondered what was going on, then figured it out.

Jeff turned back to her. "My family and I would like to offer you the job. I am aware that you want to test the girls, and probably ask many questions before you make up your mind. That's acceptable with us. It's getting late, but I think you might still want to have a look at the area where the classroom would probably be located. To allow you more contact with the girls, I think it would be best if they showed you the second floor. Would that be acceptable with you?"

"I would enjoy that, I think," Boswell said. "And I apologize for my..."

Laura broke in, "I lost both my parents suddenly quite a few years ago. I still miss them. There's no apology necessary. Having these characters to teach," she said, motioning to the girls, "might be just the thing for you."

"Come on," Arlene said, "we'll show you around."

"You know where the coffeepot is. We leave it prepped and ready to go. All you have to do is turn it on. We usually eat about seven, but if you get up earlier, feel free to start the coffee, or fix your own breakfast if you like. Otherwise, we'll meet you for breakfast, if that's okay with you," Diana said.

"I am, generally, an early riser. But I usually swim a few laps before breakfast. I assume you have a pool in this fabulous house. Do you mind if I use your pool in the morning?"

Before Jeff could say anything, Arlene started hustling Doctor Boswell out the door, followed by the other girls. "Of course we don't mind. Heck we swim every day. But I'm not in the mood that early in the morning."

As the kitchen door swung closed, Laura chuckled. "Test my rear end. Those girls will have her wrapped around their little fingers before they go to bed tonight. That woman hasn't got a chance. She didn't even ask how much we were willing to pay." Laura thought for a minute. "How much are you going to offer her, Jeff?"

"Make it a good offer," Diana said. "I want her. She impresses me."

"I don't know. How much does a teacher make?"

"Jeff. Wrong approach," Diana said, an unfathomable tone to her voice. "You need to offer her a hundred thousand a year, a car and the apartment on the second floor. She's worth any half dozen teachers we might get."

"What? Now wait a minute Diana. I know I was kidding her outside, but I don't want someone living with us. What happens if she walks into the living room with Arlene sucking my dick? I don't want to spend the next ten years in jail for incest," Jeff said, a look of concern on his face.

"Do you really think that woman won't figure out what's going on with her around us every day? She's probably there, already. She didn't get all those degrees, and letters of recommendation for being an average intellect. Unless I miss my guess, our relationship, all of us, is one of the reasons she broke down about her husband. She saw our love for one another, and it hit her hard."

Jeff took a sip of cold coffee and frowned, sitting the cup down. "I'll bet that principals don't make more than seventy-five a year in this area, tops, and they sure don't get a car furnished, let alone an apartment."

"Jeff!" Diana and Laura said in unison.

"But a hundred is more than I'm paying Laura. Come on," Jeff pleaded.

"She's your wife," Diana said, matter-of-factly. "Her salary is like taking money out of one pocket and putting it into another pocket. And while we are talking about finances, we need to get Laura's name on our checkbook. And she needs a credit card, also."

"I don't need that," Laura said. "Jeff has already deposited my pay in my account, not to mention the money you two put in when I first came out here."

"I'm ahead of you," Jeff grinned. "I ordered another card on our account with her name on it, a couple of days ago. The bank says she has to come in and sign before we can put her name on the checking account, though. We can take care of that the next time we go into town. I've also ordered credit cards for the girls. Arlene already has one."

Laura had tears in her eyes, and started to protest.

"You're my wife now. Remember?" Jeff teased. "That's what that sore pussy was about."

Laura threw her napkin at him. Then got up and kissed him.

-------

Laura, Diana and Jeff had already made love. Jeff was just drifting off when the girls came bouncing in full of energy, expounding on Doctor Boswell's virtues.

"She's the greatest, Dad. She is so cool. She knows how to do so much great stuff," Arlene bubbled.

"We showed her our last report cards, and she said she wouldn't have to see our school records. She said she believed us. She said she could teach us college courses, and get credit at a college in Denver, if we decided to go there," Ann chimed in.

Jennie broke in with, "She said we could start our own school. We could even think up a name for it. And if it's okay with you, that's what it would be called."

Melissa, while obviously enthusiastic along with the rest, didn't say anything about the school. She had been busy pulling her top off and unhooking her bra. That finished, the rest of her clothing soon followed.

Jeff was sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the bed by this time. Melissa straddled him and as he started to answer, shoved a titty in his mouth. Shortly, he was being encouraged to slide down in the bed. As soon as he was lying on his back, he felt someone forcing a tight, wet pussy down his cock.

"So, I guess that means Doctor Boswell is going to take the job," he managed.

"Sure she is, Dad," Arlene answered, bouncing on his dick. "We told her not to worry about the money, that you weren't cheap, that you would take care of her." The "her" went an octave higher, then turned into a squeal as Arlene started her orgasms.

Melissa, having gotten both of her breasts sucked, sat her pussy on Jeff's mouth, effectively ending the conversation.

A little later, Melissa screamed, then after a bit, rolled off onto the bed. Jeff grabbed Arlene's hips and hunched hard into her several times, froze, then pumped his sperm into her. Arlene thrashed wildly, mumbled something, and fainted. Diana and Laura laid her on her back on the bed, and quickly capped her gushing pussy with a washcloth.

Ann cleaned Jeff's cock with her mouth, straddled him and sat down. Jennie sat on his mouth, and the sequence began again.

Jeff was sound asleep when they decided who was going to sleep on the blankets on the floor, and who would sleep in the bed with him.



-------

Chapter 26

Having forsaken his morning run for more than a week, a little after four thirty, Jeff started at an easy pace down the driveway. He had never run on a mountain prior to moving to Colorado. He had assumed, that generally, the run down the mountain would be easy, then the trip up would be much harder. Going back up was harder of course, but going down had surprised him. Holding back on the steep slopes of the driveway had challenged new muscles.

One morning, shortly after the move, he had driven the Escalade about five miles down the county road and started his run from there, reasoning that he would get the hard part over with first. But running up to the house, then running back downhill with tired muscles, seemed worse. Either way had its disadvantages — there didn't seem to be any advantages, no matter where he started.

He knew that his strength and endurance, to a large extent, were the result of the healing tank. He had run the portable healer over Diana and Arlene on several occasions while they slept, then had again turned its beams on himself. The women, or course, didn't have any obvious wounds, but he did it for a "just in case" measure. Diana had smoked for years, and he was worried about cancer.

The research people said that both the healing tank and the portable healers seemed to correct whatever was wrong with the body. The portables took much longer, but seemed to eventually do the same thing as the big tank. Since Jeff had grown a couple of inches, and his body functioned better than it ever had, he reasoned that the healers had optimized all his body's functions. The lab people seemed to agree with this, if he had interpreted their medicalese correctly.

It certainly hadn't made a superman out of him, but his muscles grew faster with less of a workout, and he achieved better results. If they could truly understand the technology, they might be able to improve on even these results. There didn't appear to be any controls, per se, on the healing tank or the portable healers. If a person was injured and placed into the healing tank, a blue light and an accompanying mist would surround the individual. When the healing process was complete, the light and mist would shut off. The portables turned themselves on when placed on a person, the blue light bathed the subject, but there was no mist. Jeff had felt an inquisitiveness tickle his mind when he used the healer, and it seemed to become stronger each time he used the instrument. The techs hadn't mentioned this at all, and Jeff decided to keep the notion to himself for the time being. He continued to experiment with the healer now that he wasn't working all the time. But the women had a disconcerting habit of finding him no matter where he wondered off to in the conference center. Twice, Diana had almost caught him with the healer.

When Jeff had been hit by the high velocity projectile, the bullet had destroyed a sizable portion of his right lung before exiting his back. He had been moments from death when members of his team placed him in the tank. Three days later, the light shut off, the mist was whisked away, and he opened his eyes. All that was left was a faint scar on his chest and back. He was sore for a few days, then his health came back better than before.

He hit the five-mile point, made his turn, and with a groan started up the mountain. My body may work better than it used to, but the pain of running up this mountain is still there.

He had noticed that his body was shifting into the FFA (Free Fatty Acid) metabolism much quicker than it had before. In the past, this kicked in at about twenty to thirty minutes. Now it seemed to happen sooner. A distance runner tends to struggle more the first few miles, until FFA starts. Then the runner's breathing is easier, and if he/she is just running at a moderate pace, he can even carry on a conversation while running — something that is more difficult, try impossible, during those first few miles. Jeff had realized several weeks ago that FFA was starting at about ten to fifteen minutes — something that had never happened to him before. Whatever the reason, his body functioned superbly and the FFA left his mind in a state that runners usually call free association.

Many distance runners, particularly if they are not pushing, just running at a slow to medium pace, can free associate. Their minds seem to become clearer, memory is enhanced, and it becomes easier to plan or think things through. Jeff usually used his morning runs to plan his day, or work through aspects of his next invention. He had done something similar, even before the move to Colorado. Now the miles seemed to slip away as he thought about his family and the possibility that they had already found an excellent teacher.

He hoped she would take the job. She had seemed like a bitch to start with, but after meeting the girls, she had changed, particularly since the drive up the mountain and the teasing from Arlene.

The contractor was due to finish the lab today, and he said he would have a crew starting on the bedroom suite early. As the house came into view, he slowed to cool down, walking the last three hundred yards.

As he started to enter the kitchen with the intention of turning the coffee on before he took a shower, he smelled fresh coffee as soon as he started to bump the door open. Doctor Boswell was seated at the small kitchen table, reading a magazine and drinking a cup of coffee when he hit the door with the heel of his hand and stepped in.

As he grabbed the paper towels and helped mop up the spilled coffee, instead of apologizing, he teased, "I'll bet that got your heart started."

She tried to glare at him, then chuckled. "At least I didn't drop the cup. Do you always open doors like that?"

"Actually, I guess I do. At least I've bumped that swinging door with the heel of my hands enough times to get fussed at by my ... Diana," he finished. Crap! I almost said wives. Plural. That would really have started the day off. I'm going to have to be very, very careful now. I can see that just alerted her radar. I must not forget that this woman was a child prodigy. Why is it that every woman I'm associated with is either smart, or brilliant? "I'm sorry, but I had no idea that you would be here. I was concentrating on what I was going to do today, and was just going to start the coffee so it would be making while I took my shower. I'm not used to anyone else being up this early. I should have remembered that you said you were an early riser."

"Mr. Matthews, no apology is necessary. After my heart rate came back down to about twice normal, I realized that my little mini launch was funny. I was gazing at the magazine," she said, indicating the magazine in front of her, "and thinking about what we would need for a school."

As Jeff threw the wadded up paper towels in the trash, Doctor Boswell said, "If you have time, why don't you get that cup of coffee you were going to make, and sit with me for a while. We need to talk about the school and exactly what you expect to get out of it."

Jeff poured a cup and refreshed Doctor Boswell's coffee. After putting the pot back, he sat at the side of the table, took a sip and said, "One hundred and twenty thousand a year, a vehicle, and the second floor apartment."

Doctor Boswell hesitated for a moment with the non sequitur. Then, "Are you always this abrupt."

Jeff grinned, sitting back in his chair. "No, but last night you indicated that you were. And I have never liked to haggle. My family wants you. I want you. I'm not going to squander my money on drugs, yachts, and gold plated Mercedes, so I have money that I can spend for education. If I can enrich your life a little bit, I think you will feel better about your job. I won't insult you by saying you will do a better job with more pay. At the least, you should feel more secure. My offer should show you that we're serious. Our girls will profit in the long run."

"Why would you give me a car and an apartment? Not that I'm not flattered," she quickly added, then continued. "I was sitting here thinking that I could find something to rent in the area. I own a condo in Denver that I could probably lease and maybe break even. I'll admit that I have been worrying about driving up the mountain, not to mention your driveway, under winter conditions. My car isn't new, but it will be fine for a few years if I don't drive it off that..." Failing to find the proper term, and refusing to acknowledge Jeff's grin, she continued. "You must know, at least generally, what a teacher in this area earns. Why would you do this for me?" She repeatedly folded a paper towel, obviously a nervous gesture.

Tapping his fingers on the table for a moment while he thought, he stopped and looked at her. "I guess I need to explain some things. We told you, basically, how our life went until I sold my invention." When Doctor Boswell nodded, he went on, "I sold my invention to a very big supplier of technology to the armed forces and the federal government. At the last part of the negotiations, Mr. Wainwright and his team apparently thought I was having second thoughts about selling my patents to them. This conference center and another large chunk of money, plus free use of the company jet were offered at the last moment to seal the deal."

"A few days after the contract was signed, Mr. Wainwright gave me a call. We had become, if not true friends, at least respected acquaintances whose lives have been interconnected. I have started to work on another invention, so he has a bit of a vested interest in keeping me on his good side, since he will probably bid on the patents. At any rate, I had mentioned that I knew practically nothing about investments. During our conversation, I reminded him that he had said he knew a broker who was young, very intelligent, and had only been in business for himself for about a year. Frank said the guy was sharp, trustworthy, and hungry. Against all reason I guess, I took Wainwright at his word and let this person manage about six percent of my money to be used for high risk investments that the broker said would make money. I also put another ten percent with him in longer term, much lower risk investments, but of course the return will generally be much smaller."

"Generally any profits in the high risk investments are bled off to another account. I'm not foolish enough to put the proceeds back in and risk losing the whole six percent, plus the profits — at least not at this point. The profit account is more than ten times as much as we have managed to spend since we moved into this house."

"I hired several people to help me build various parts for my invention. They, of course, didn't know how these parts were to be used. I hired the best people I could find. I paid them well, and I gave them a bonus when the parts were successfully completed. Everything worked the way it was supposed to work. When I built my prototype, although I had to do a bit of tweaking, it worked. I guess I live by the old adage that you get what you pay for. That, of course, isn't always true, but everything generally works out that way."

"I love these girls. I want the best for them, and I'm going to back that statement with deeds. In addition to the salary, vehicle and apartment, I will set up a checking account for the school, and a charge card for anything you might need for the school. You can use that card for your gasoline and other expenses, too. If you decide to take the job, we'll talk about what you need. The only restriction I can think of right now, is that I would like Laura to have a major role in selecting and setting up your computer system. She's an IT manager, a systems analyst. She's a genius, or damn close. She is definitely a genius with computer systems."

"Yes or no? Or do you need time to think about it?"

"Mr. Matthews, I've done far too much thinking in the last two years since my husband died. The last thing I need to do is start thinking. What I need to do is to start doing. In addition, I've been very impressed with the girls, and your whole family." She hesitated a moment, then said, "I'll take the job."

"Good. I'll get on the phone in a few minutes and cancel our newspaper ads. Now how are you going to work this. I don't know anything about setting up a school. Do we home-school? Do we somehow associate with the county school? How does this work?"

"No. We set up our own school."

"It's only a few weeks until school starts according to Doctor Adams. I know there's bound to be a bureaucracy involved in this. Do you know where we start? Surely we'll never be able to get the paperwork through all the bureaucratic crap in such a short period of time."

"Relax Mr. Matthews. Remember, I sat on the school board for five years. And I also know some people at the state level. I've done many favors over the years. I'll call in a few. You will have a certified school in less than a week, or I'm going to have some very ill feelings toward some friends of mine."

At Jeff's raised eyebrow, "Oh, everything will be legal, all the inspections will be made, everything will be done properly."

"Shit," Jeff let slip out, then quickly followed with, "I apologize Doctor Boswell. I shouldn't have said that in front of you."

Chuckling, she drained the last of her cup and held it out to Jeff. As he got up to get the pot, she said, "I've said worse in front of a hall full of students, long before I became a principal. One of the other teachers heard me and reported me to the principal. I was called to the office for a reprimand, but the principal had heard my remarks on the intercom as he monitored the little ruckus that was going on. He was laughing so hard that he couldn't chew me out."

Jeff handed her the coffee, and as he did so, he smelled the dried sweat on himself. Oh, crap. I was on the way to take a shower, then got to talking to her and forgot all about it. If I can smell myself, I know I must be ripe. I can tell she just smelled me when I leaned over. "Doctor Boswell, I meant to stop in and start the coffee, then take my shower. I'm embarrassed. We started talking and I was so interested in our conversation that I forgot..."

Doctor Boswell chuckled, then sighed. "You haven't offended me, if that's what you mean. If you were dirty, then that would be an offensive odor. But a man's sweat from exercising or working isn't offensive to me. Nor is it to many women. Sit back down, please. We still have many things to discuss."

"Thanks," Jeff said, "I appreciate your candor."

"I've looked through the second floor — well at least a good part of it, and I didn't find anything that was perfect..."

"Hold on a second, Doctor Boswell. My family and I discussed this and I promised that our classroom would be different. What about an office for you, a large office with everything you want in it? Then a large connecting classroom with work stations for each of the girls, with nice relaxing furniture. Computers, of course, for each girl, and one in your office for you, all on a local network. Tables, more work areas for larger projects, and anything else you want for the classroom. Surely we don't have to put the girls in desks like you would have in a conventional school."

Laughing a little, Doctor Boswell asked, "Did you know that the girls have a very professional drawing of what you just described? We wound up talking for over an hour in one of the conference rooms last night. I've got their drawing in my bedroom. I've always wanted to have a classroom like that, of course, the county could never afford it. But I will still need at least two other areas that are easily accessible from the main classroom. One area would be a project work area, and we will also need a lab for chemistry and physics experiments.

"I think all of the rooms should be interconnecting in order for me to keep in close contact with all four girls at all times. Are you prepared to spend the money on construction and..."

"Pick the rooms you want combined. Sketch out your office and classroom, work area, and lab, and put some rough dimensions on you drawing. The contractor should be here in a few minutes. As soon as he gets going for the day, I'll show him what you need and we will walk through the area with him. Let's get him involved with this. We may as well do it right to begin with. It would probably be beneficial to get Laura and Diana involved in this as well, in addition to the girls. They (Laura and Diana) are going to be taking online college classes. I think that if they did the most of their work in a school setting, they would profit more, and it would be easier for them to get away from the distractions of our home life. Do you have any objections to expanding your class to include monitoring, advising, and maybe tutoring Diana and Laura?"

"Certainly not. Nothing like having a whole family in class. What type of college courses are they going to be taking?" she asked quizzically.

"Laura already has some type of computer science degree, I'm not precisely sure what her major was, but she needs an electrical engineering degree to be of more use to me in building my next invention. Diana didn't get a chance to go to college, other than a few courses at a local trade school, since she was helping put me through my classes. Now, it's her turn. We had mentioned engineering for her also, but the final decision will be hers."

"I would like Diana to start out gradually, since it has been several years since she has had to study. She made excellent grades in high school, and the trade school as well. I suspect she will surprise me, as she usually does, and drop right back into the study routines. But I would feel a lot better if you were monitoring the situation. So plan on six work stations for students. And if possible, no cubbyholes or partial partitions, unless you have reason to believe things will work better that way."

"Since the girls are all seniors, and the classroom is going to be big, I see no reason why that approach wouldn't work, particularly for gifted students. Did I hear you mention a contractor?"

"Yes. Oh, he's coming in to finish up my lab today and start a crew on some modification to our bedroom suite on this end of the building. I think I'm well on my way to making the guy rich. One more project should really make his day."

Jeff stood and started to leave. Stopping and turning back to Doctor Boswell, he asked, "Do we need a contract? I can get you on the phone with my lawyer and have him draw one up to your specifications."

Boswell stuck out her hand, and Jeff took it. Her grip was firm. Jeff liked that.

"Mr. Matthews we need to discuss several other things, but I don't think a contract will be necessary, as least from my perspective."

"Same here. I've done more on a handshake than I have with contracts. Well, not monetarily, but more of them. I'll get on the phone to my accountant and have him set up your pay. He'll need to talk with you, I'm sure. Just tell him how you want things to be, how and when you want to be paid, and let him work out the details."

Releasing her hand and grinning, he said, "I need to get that shower before that herd of women hits this place. Somebody will start holding their nose, then they will all tease me. We'll continue our discussion after breakfast, if it's okay with you. Then as soon as you have your rough sketch of what you will need for the school, we'll get with the contractor."

A few minutes later, he entered the "honeymoon suite." Man, I could get used to this. There are wall to wall naked females. Some of the women were fully covered with a sheet, some partially covered, others totally uncovered. Diana was on her back with her legs slightly parted, without any cover at all. Jeff leaned over and licked up the crack of her pussy, gently touching her hooded clit with his tongue tip.

Well, she certainly doesn't taste fresh this morning, but I know who's cum is smelling up her pussy. Grinning, he lapped a little harder. On the fourth swipe, her breathing changed. A couple of licks later, she arched her back, slamming her pussy into his mouth, and orgasmed. She bucked and shivered for a long time, finally coming down.

She eventually opened her eyes, raised her head slightly to look past her breasts to grin at him. He kissed her pussy once more, then sat beside her on the bed.

"I was dreaming this super stud was fucking me. I was having an orgasm. Then I woke up and I was really having one."

"Was 'super stud, ' me?"

"No. But don't get too upset about that. I can't control my dreams, and besides, it was probably initiated by someone I know licking my pussy. By the way, that's a great way to wake up."

"Yeah, I know. I've been awakened many times lately with a blowjob."

He kissed Diana, then as he started to stand back up, Diana grabbed him. "Un uh, Big Boy, you're not done yet. My breasts are so tight they ache. I had much rather that you relieve the pressure than use the breast pump."

As Jeff nursed her breasts she continued, "When you get tired of doing that, or you don't have time, just say so. But I love having you do it, not to say anything about the orgasms," she gasped, as she grabbed the back of his head pulling his mouth tighter against her breast. A couple of seconds later, she stiffened and wailed. After a bit, Jeff started on her other breast.

The noise woke up the rest of his harem. As he kissed Diana and started to go for his shower, Arlene was standing in the way. "You've still got two titties to go, Husband," she emphasized. "Mom is giving milk like she has twins, and my milk is increasing every day. My breasts ache, too."

"I'm going to get fat drinking breast milk. Oh well, we all have to sacrifice," he teased, scooping Arlene into his arms, then laying her across the foot of the bed. She held her right breast for him, put her hand on his head, and guided the engorged nipple to his mouth.

"Jeff, the only way we can keep from leaking is to use the breast pump several times a day. If we're going somewhere, we have to be sure to use it before we leave, or else we have to put nursing pads in our bras. Should I see a doctor again to try to get it stopped, or at least reduced?" Diana asked, as she watched her husband drain his daughter's milk.

"Don't you dare," Jeff admonished, pulling his mouth off the nipple with a pop. "I love to suck on titties. The milk and orgasms are just an additional bonus."

When he finished with Arlene, the other four needed to be kissed, cuddled and groped a little. Finally in the shower twenty minutes later, Jennie and Melissa attacked him. They took turns to suck him off, then shared his sperm — two spurts each.

He told everyone about his discussion with Doctor Boswell. Laura said she thought that she and Diana should probably have a separate small study area, since they would be taking college courses via the internet, and that class lectures for the girls would be distracting. Jeff realized that she had a valid point.

By the time he made it back to the kitchen, Ann, Arlene, Diana, and Laura were setting breakfast on the table. Everyone was dressed in jeans and tops, all modest. There were no bouncing titties, or nipples on display, since the construction crew would be working in the house today.

Doctor Boswell walked in dressed in slacks and a conservative top. She was warmly greeted by everyone as she sat her briefcase down by the door. Ann and Jennie said in unison, "Sit by me." Everyone laughed as the two girls seated Doctor Boswell between them.

"You may as well try to get used to it now. All the girls tend to do that. You should hear it when Laura and Diana chime in, too," Jeff laughed, as Diana poured Doctor Boswell's coffee.

"The crew for the bedroom is already here," Diana said as she filled Jeff's cup. "I saw them on the monitor as they drove up. When I let them in, the contractor told me they were going to move the furniture out, then put plastic across the hall to keep the dust out of the other parts of the house. He also said that it had a pad attached to the plastic that would dampen the sound so we wouldn't be disturbed by all the noise. I told him that we had a classroom project and you would want to talk to him about it sometime this morning."

When she finished, she leaned over and kissed Jeff. It wasn't an ardent kiss, but it was far from chaste. Laura swiped her hand lovingly across his shoulder as she sat a huge platter of scrambled eggs on the table.

Jeff saw Doctor Boswell glance at Laura. Oh shit, I can see the wheels turning, already. But I can't fuss at Laura for loving me. I want to touch her, too. How are we going to keep Boswell from finding out about our relationships?

"Did you swim any this morning, Doctor Boswell?" Melissa asked as she put more bread in the toaster.

"Actually I did," she answered. "I guess I was so excited about teaching you girls, that I woke up even earlier than usual. I swam a few laps, showered and dried my hair, and was in the kitchen drinking coffee when Mr. Matthews came in from his run. We had a long talk after we cleaned up the coffee," she finished with a laugh.

"Did he slam the door open, again?" Diana said, grinning at Doctor Boswell.

All the girls immediately glared at Jeff.

"You must lead an interesting life," Boswell said to Jeff, a teasing smile on her face.

I wonder if that comment had a double meaning? Trying to change the subject, Jeff said, "I'm afraid I didn't consider something when we had our discussion this morning. Laura and Diana are probably going to need a separate study area..."

"Yes, I've already thought of that. I made a sketch after we talked. I think a separate small classroom on the other side of my office would work out better for them. I also sketched out the project area and the lab."

Can we see the sketch now? Arlene asked.

Jeff passed the eggs to Jennie, who took some and passed the plate to Doctor Boswell. "Let's give Doctor Boswell a chance to eat. Then she can put her sketches out for all of us to see," Jeff admonished.

"Oops, I'm sorry, Doctor Boswell. We have three kinds of jelly. Which would you like?" Arlene asked as she put them in front of their new teacher. Dad says you agreed to teach us.

Melissa offered the bacon, while Ann poured orange juice for Doctor Boswell. Jeff watched the showering of attention, then caught Boswell's eye. "I think they like you," he said with a smirk.

Doctor Boswell didn't say anything, but Jeff noticed her rapidly blinking in an attempt to hide the moisture in her eyes.

When the meal was over, the girls started clearing the table. Doctor Boswell picked up her plate and started to the sink to rinse it as the girls were doing. "You don't have to do that," Diana said, trying to get Doctor Boswell to sit back down. "The girls will have everything in order in no time."

"Nonsense," Boswell said as she joined in the cleaning. "I'm not a guest; I'm an employee."

A few minutes later, the dishwashers were going, everything was put away, and everyone's coffee had been refreshed. Doctor Boswell set her briefcase beside her and took out her sketches, along with the girls' drawing. "I've been alone too long. Just a simple thing like helping to clean up after breakfast has made me realize how lonely I've been." Shrugging, she laid out the drawing and her sketches. "Now, down to business. Do you have any clear tape, so we can tape the sketches to your very nice drawing?"

"Sure we do," Arlene said, jumping up from the table. "I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, they taped the sketch of Laura and Diana's study area on one side of the diagram of the office/study area prepared by the girls. They attached the project area/lab to the other side.

An hour later, they had made a preliminary list of things needed for the school, as well as making minor adjustments to the sketches. They had drunk enough coffee to make Jeff's nerves jittery.

"I'll find the contractor and get him to go with us to the second floor," Jeff told Doctor Boswell.

"Mr. Matthews, I really want to get started with setting up the new school. I think I need to do this face to face, rather than on the phone. If it's okay with you, I'll do that today, and spend the night at my condo. I also need to contact a realtor about renting it. I'm going to have to pack my clothes and start bringing them up here if I'm going to live with you."

Jeff thought for a second, "Give me your cell phone number. If the contractor needs to make any major changes from your drawing, I'll give you a call. Would that be okay with you?"

"Sure, that would be great."

Jeff slid the keys to the Expedition toward her. "Take the Expedition. The seats fold down, and it will give you a lot more room for your things."

"Thanks Mr. Matthews. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, no problem. We use the Escalade most of the time, anyway. As soon as we get a chance, we'll go and get you a vehicle." Turning to Laura, he continued, "We might as well get yours at the same time."

"Jeff there's no hurry on mine. Let's just wait until you start sending me places for the corporation."

Jeff and Laura smiled at each other, then Jeff turned back to Doctor Boswell as she said, "The girls showed me the apartment last night. Since it is furnished, I won't have to move any basic furniture. There are several small items that I don't want to leave in the condo, also my clothes. Shortly, I'll have to get my food and other things out of my kitchen."

"When you get to that point," Jeff said, "we'll all help, or we can hire a moving company to do it."

"I had rather a moving company not do it. But thanks for the offer, anyway. I'll just bring back what I have to tomorrow. I appreciate the Expedition, that monster will probably hold all of my clothes and then some."

Jeff looked at Diana. "On second thought, Diana would you and Laura take care of the discussion with the contractor? If he has questions you can't answer about the construction, you can call me on my cell, once we get out of the mountains. I think I'll let Doctor Boswell drop me off at the snowplow place, so I can bring the truck home. That will save an extra trip down."

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When Jeff and Doctor Boswell left the house, she handed Jeff back his keys. "Would you please drive down your driveway. Heights have always bothered me. I would rather not start out on that thing in a vehicle I'm not accustomed to. By the time I get back from Denver, I'll be used to it — the vehicle, not that damn driveway."

"Doctor Boswell, you sound like Diana. She didn't want to drive it at first, then when she had to go somewhere, she just went. I don't think it bothers her any more, at least, not much."

Jeff hit the remote, then opened the door for her. After he got in the other side and started the Expedition, Doctor Boswell said, "I will have to maintain the 'Doctor' with the girls since I'm going to be their teacher, but it seems a little ridiculous with my employer. Could you just call me Helen, please?"

"Okay, Helen Please, and I'm Jeff Please. And I guess that's a pretty lousy joke."

Helen grinned and said, "Yes, I guess it is, but I liked it anyway." About that time, they hit the first switchback and Helen got her first good look at the "abyss" in daylight. Other than an audible intake of breath every now and then, she didn't say anything until they turned onto the county road.

"I would say something really nasty now that I've got my breath back, but I've tried to train myself to leave the expletives out of my spoken vocabulary. But I may make an exception as far as that piece of terror is concerned."

Jeff pulled over. As he started to get out, he looked back at Helen. "You need to drive. This truck is a lot bigger than your car. I would feel better if you had some time behind the wheel before you have to drive it in Denver traffic."

When they had switched places, Helen dropped the gearshift into drive and pulled back onto the road. "Wow, this thing sure feels good. I've always avoided the gas hogs, even after my finances were decent. Oops, sorry. I guess I didn't put that very tactfully."

"No problem," Jeff assured her. "We always did too, but with as many people as there are in our family, I really don't have a choice. We have to have either a very big vehicle, or else drive two vehicles any time all of us have to go somewhere. They would use as much gas I guess, and be a whole lot more bother."

"By the way, I've cautioned everyone to test the brakes by putting them on for a second as they circle the house before starting down the drive. It's rare for a modern vehicle to suddenly lose its brakes, but it can happen. If it happened on the drive, you would be in big trouble. Remember you can drop the selector into low, and gently push on the emergency brake should the brakes fail. Better to think the problem through ahead of time and even practice it from time to time."

"Now you're really scaring me, but I can respect your logic. I'll definitely test the brakes, and practice the other. Thanks."

Later Helen dropped him off at the snowplow dealer. She waited until he came back out, got in the truck and started moving before she pulled into the street and left. Jeff noticed and appreciated her consideration.

Jeff was a bit self conscious driving through Denver in the middle of the summer with a snowplow on the front of the truck, but other than a few glances at the shiny new truck with the bright red snowplow, obviously new also, nobody seemed to pay much attention. If anything, he got more looks after he got to Winter Park than he did in Denver. By then, he knew they were admiring the new rig. They certainly weren't strangers to snowplows.

When he got home, everybody had to go for a ride. He took the four girls the first trip, then Diana and Laura. At least no one can see me driving a snowplow up and down the drive, pretending to plow snow in the summertime. He might have been a little embarrassed, but they all had a ball, anyway.

Jeff checked out the finished lab. Everything looked great, but empty. He would soon correct that. He had a talk with the contractor. One of the walls they had wanted to move for the school was a supporting wall. After some consideration, they shifted left one set of rooms. They would put a door in the supporting wall and use that room for the school lab. The other walls could be rearranged the way they had originally planned.

Jeff mentioned looking in the bedroom suite to see how things were coming, but the contractor laughed and said Jeff really didn't want to look in there just yet. Jeff took the hint and curbed his curiosity.

Later, as the last of the carpenters left and the contractor followed, Diana locked the back door and turned to her husband, "Time for a quick meal, then you need to get a suit on, my love. Big plans for tonight."

Jeff had noticed that there had been a lot of whispering going on between the girls, but he had just though it involved the new school. Now he was beginning to wonder. "Why a suit, Baby? Where are we going?"

"Just get cleaned up and dressed. You'll find out soon enough."

Knowing that arguing was useless, as soon as dinner was over, he took a shower and shaved. He picked out a suit, and was just slipping his shoes on when the bedroom door open and Diana came in dressed in the white dress she had worn the night of her 'wedding.' Jeff could feel the butterflies start in the pit of his stomach, but he still couldn't figure out what was going on.

As he stood, Diana very tenderly kissed him. "Hold your left hand up and put your palm against mine." As Jeff complied, she matched her fingers against his. She tapped his wedding band with her finger. "We've worn these for over sixteen years. They have been off our fingers very few times. Mine had to be off when I had Arlene."

"Yeah," Jeff said. "I've only taken mine off for missions, and to clean it with polish when it lost its gloss."

"Tonight," Diana said, a little catch in her voice, "we take these rings off forever."

"What?" Jeff said, astonished.

"Because, tonight we accept new rings that symbolize our group marriage. It wouldn't be fair for us to keep these, and the others to have new rings. That would always set me apart, and although I will maintain my status as boss bitch," she said, smiling, "all of us will wear identical gold bands. Yours, my darling, will be a little wider of course, but otherwise, all the rings are identical."

With a little struggle to get it off his knuckle, Diana held the ring in her hand. "Now mine," she told him.

"Diana, are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

Jeff slipped the ring from her finger and held it. Diana took it, and put both rings in a small box which she put it in a dresser drawer. Turning to her husband, she said, "Now we go to exchange vows with all your wives."

Jeff decided he was having a strange problem with his throat; he was having difficulty with his voice; it kept cracking as he tried to talk. Must be taking a cold.

Diana handed him a ring box. When he opened it, there were six identical gold bands sitting in a row. "The rings will match the way we stand. The first on the left is mine, and so on. That way the sizes won't get confused." She took his arm, pressed her breast against him, and they walked out of the "honeymoon suite" to the living room. As they entered, Jeff noted that the furniture had been rearranged, leaving the whole glass wall free. There were flower arrangements.

How did they get those flowers in here without my smelling them?

Diana told a stunned Jeff to stand with his back to the window. The women, all wearing their "wedding" dresses, formed a semicircle facing him, with Diana first on the left, then Arlene, then Ann, Laura, Jennie and Melissa.

Starting with Diana, each woman stepped up to Jeff and recited an identical vow. When she was done, Jeff placed her wedding band on her finger. When each wife had spoken her vow, Diana again stepped forward and handed Jeff a card with a simple vow to love, cherish and protect each of his wives. The card had nothing about forsaking others, as the wives' had.

When Jeff read the card and raised an eyebrow, Diana said formally, "You, our husband, are our Alpha Male. Whether you believe this to be true or not, we, your wives do. Therefore, at some point there might be other females to enter our marriage. We had rather this not be, but we will not ask you to make a vow that you might have to break. If you agree with the vows that we have written on the card, then please initiate your vows to us now."

Jeff glanced at the card again, then instead of saying the vow to all at the same time, as it seemed they had arranged, he stepped to Diana, took her hands in his and said the vow. Kissing her lovingly, he then released her hands and repeated the process until he had personally given his vow to each female. By the time he was through, there wasn't a dry eye among them, Jeff's included.

As he finished his vows, he realized that he still hadn't received a ring, and stepped back a step to his original place. Diana again moved forward and slipped a gold band partway onto his finger. All the women came to him and each pushed the ring farther onto his finger. He had to help Melissa get it over his knuckle.

Each woman wanted to kiss her husband after the ring was on. The kisses were wet, salty, and the runny noses, somehow, didn't distract at all. Nobody could kiss for very long though, because of being stopped up. In a mass, they made it to the bedroom, although Jeff was only half dressed when they got there.

The exchange of vows started at six; it was after midnight when Jeff fell into an exhausted, though blissful sleep. He had cum more times in six hours than he had ever cum in a day in his life. His dick was sore. His prostate was sore. His tongue was sore.

Arlene crawled onto his chest and went to sleep. He could feel her chest against his — well, her chest and her marvelous breasts. Her chest was vibrating slightly. Women don't purr do they? he groggily thought, as he realized how truly great his life had become. A smile on his face, he drifted off to sleep.

END OF BOOK ONE
THE STORY CONTINUES WITH
ARLENE AND JEFF: BOOK TWO

Jeff goes bear hunting the hard way, spends a little money, and starts to build some things, among them, a fortress. What is the healer? Is Jeff actually an Alpha Male? Why is he teaching his women to shoot — really shoot? Other characters take part in what's going on at the mountain retreat — characters that become center stage in parts of Jeff, Diana and Arlene's lives. And with the healer, how long will their lives be? But Hagewood wants them dead. Join us in Book Two.

RoustWriter



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Book 2

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Chapter 1

When Jeff awoke the next morning after the wedding, alone, it was after eight. As he started to relieve his bladder, he realized the head of his dick was swollen and discolored. It hurt worse this morning than it had last night when he went to sleep. He showered, shaved and slipped on his clothes, then got an idea. He had kidded once before about his dick needing a sling, so he dug around until he found a scarf and fashioned a sling. He placed it around his cock like you would if you had a sprained arm, and tied the scarf to his belt, leaving his dick hanging out of his pants, supported like a broken arm.

Well they can show their pussies and say they are broken. Why can't I put my dick in a sling?

A couple of minutes later, he walked down the hall. Since his dick was hanging out of his pants, it soon was about half erect. Trying valiantly not to laugh, he abruptly stepped into the kitchen with his dick swinging back and forth supported by the sling, and proudly announced, "I'm broken. Should I sit in the hot tub like everybody else?"

All eyes riveted on him. Doctor Boswell coughed, snorted and spewed coffee all over Melissa. There was dead silence.

"Ah, shit," Jeff choked out, whirled and stumbled out the door.

A few minutes later, Diana entered the living room to find an ashen-faced Jeff sitting in a chair staring out the window. "It's okay, Baby. She knows."

"No shit, she knows," Jeff growled. "I think I just announced it in terms that anyone could understand."

Diana sat in his lap while trying to keep a straight face. "Jeff, we didn't expect her back, either. We had given her a key and the alarm code, though. She walked in as we were finishing breakfast. Everyone was wearing their rings, and she spotted them almost instantly. We gave up and explained the whole situation to her, minus a few things you did to Jack and Arnie," she said, nuzzling his neck while quietly chuckling.

"Quit worrying. The girls are all legal. They are all past the age of consent. The only legal marriage that exists is yours and mine. The other wives belong to you though, without a doubt, but legally they're not married to you. The only potential problem is Arlene — incest. And when have you ever heard about anyone being prosecuted for that unless a minor child was involved?

"Helen has accepted that we have an unusual relationship and has told us that she had figured it out, anyway. She was getting ready to tell us something about that when you walked into the room so dramatically."

Diana tried to suppress another little giggle. "I swear that has to have been the funniest thing I have ever seen. Then the look on your face when you realized that Doctor Boswell was there was priceless. Everybody is still laughing, and Helen is laughing as much as anyone, maybe more. She was doubled over in her chair holding her sides when I left. She was even trying to laugh while she was choking on the coffee. She grabbed her napkin and blew coffee out her nose; that had to have hurt, but she was giggling like a schoolgirl." Diana added, "Helen also said you had a very impressive instrument, and she's sorry it is broken. Of course she descended into hysterical giggles again after that."

"Shit, Diana, I had no idea that woman was there. She said she wouldn't be back until late today. What the crap is she doing here this morning? Even if she doesn't try to get the authorities involved, she's got to think that I'm the biggest idiot around."

Diana laughed and kissed him. "She definitely thinks you're the biggest, all right, but idiot has nothing to do with it. Now come on, let's go get some breakfast in you. You're bound to need it after last night." She kissed him again and asked, deadpan, "Does that thing really need to be soaked in the hot tub?"

Jeff ignored her question. "Shit, Diana, I can't go back in there," he said, as Diana tried to pull him to his feet.

"Jeff Matthews, how many times have you told me to just trust you? Now it's your turn. Just trust me and come on. Now."

Stopping just outside the door to the kitchen, Diana said with a little snigger, "I dare you to open the door, say ta-da, and make a little bow."

"Diana, I ... ah hell. In for a penny in for a pound as they say."

Doctor Boswell was obviously trying to compose herself, still fighting an almost uncontrollable bout of the giggles, when Jeff made his entrance. Boswell laughed, but it didn't take a brain surgeon to tell the girls were worried.

Jeff, girding his loins, walked over to the teacher, touched his hand to her shoulder. "Doctor Boswell, I humbly apologize. I had no idea you were here. It was a dumb stunt..."

"So, I'm Doctor Boswell again? What happened to Helen?" When Jeff tried to answer, she interrupted, "I'm still Helen, and that was the second funniest thing I have ever seen?"

Jeff couldn't help it; he had to ask. "The second?"

"Yes," she said, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle that threatened to overwhelm her, "the first was ... the look ... on your face ... when you saw me ... sitting here," she gasped out, hugging both arms tightly across her stomach.

A few minutes later, Jeff sat at the other end of the table, still shaken. The girls started filing by to tell him good morning. They didn't hold anything back; rather, they seemed to have come to one of their silent agreements. Jeff gave up and went with it, spending time with each of them, kissing and hugging.

When Laura and then Diana came by also, Doctor Boswell suddenly started sobbing. The girls mobbed her before Diana and Laura could get there, hugging and asking Helen what was wrong. Jeff felt chills go down his spine. Now her true feelings are going to come out. She is going to tell us how she felt sexually harassed by my display of idiotsy.

"No, no, you didn't do anything. I'll be fine," she finally said, after minutes of sobbing. "I'm not crying for what's happened here. I'm crying for what I have lost."

"Yes, we know it must be terrible losing your husband so tragically..."

Boswell gulped and tried to get the words out. "I'm not just crying for my husband ... I'm crying for Martha, too. And for what we all lost."

When everybody stared at her, she fought to continue, "You see, we had what you have. Everybody was so pious when the rescuers found a woman in the car with him. The gossipers had a field day talking about John being killed while out 'running around with another woman, ' but he wasn't 'running around;' they were just coming home. Martha was as much a part of our marriage as John and I were. I didn't lose just one person that I loved; I lost two — both of them. Seeing all your wives," she said, looking at the women, "loving your husband just got to me. I have never really cried for John and Martha. Oh, I shed a few tears at the funerals, but I have never broken down. I just couldn't, somehow. But when I saw the love you have for one another, I remembered, and finally felt what we had — and lost." She put her head down on the table and sobbed again.

The sobbing went on and on. No one could console her; she didn't even acknowledge them. Jeff had never heard of anyone crying that long — not just crying but hard racking sobs. She kept holding her left arm, trying to rub it while she sobbed. All the girls were crying. Diana and Laura were fighting back tears.

"Jeff, we've got to do something," Diana said worriedly, looking at Helen.

Doctor Boswell would have fallen out of the chair had it not been for Jennie. Jeff scooped the crying woman up. He walked down the hall with her, everyone trying to help. As he turned into a bedroom next door to the "honeymoon suite," Diana objected. "No, put her on our bed. We've got to get this stopped."

"Diana, I don't think..."

"I've never heard of anyone seriously hurting their health by crying, but she's not responding to us. Her eyes are unfocused. Those paramedic courses I took never said anything about this, but she doesn't look good."

Jeff quit arguing and carried her to their suite, putting her gently on the bed. The deep racking sobs continued, although, there didn't seem to be any tears anymore. He didn't know whether that was good or bad.

"Arlene," Diana ordered, "get my stethoscope. It's in the box it came in. I know it was in the back of the closet in the other bedroom before we moved to the 'honeymoon suite.' I don't know where it is now."

"I know where it is," Melissa said. "I remember bringing it from the other closet. I'll get it."

By the time Melissa had returned with the stethoscope, Diana had taken Doctor Boswell's pulse. "Oh, Jeff, it's so fast I can't even count it, and it's very irregular."

She put the stethoscope on, and after partially opening Boswell's blouse, listened to several places on her chest. After a minute or two, Diana took the stethoscope off and looked at Jeff. "Obviously, I don't fully know what I'm doing. But I do know that a heart isn't supposed to sound like that. Jeff, I'm pretty sure she's having a heart attack. We need to call 911 and get an ambulance."

"I'll do it," Laura said, picking up the phone.

"No," Jeff said, then more strongly, "No."

Laura dropped the phone back into its charging cradle.

"It will take an ambulance at least thirty minutes to get here. Then, who knows how long to get to a hospital." Looking down at the now faintly gasping woman, he said, "She'll be dead before she gets to a hospital."

Jeff stood for a moment before he seemed to come to a decision. "I'll be back in a minute. No one calls 911!" he barked, glancing around the room.

Everyone froze and looked at him as he turned and ran out of the room. A couple of moments later, he was back with the Healer. Diana tried to see what he had, but he held it at his side away from her. All she could tell was that it appeared to be something made of an almost translucent substance a little bigger than a thick paperback novel, and it had rounded corners.

"Everybody out," Jeff said in a voice that brooked no argument.

Diana fought the urge to obey, and managed, "But Jeff, I'm afraid she's dying."

"I promise you she will be fine," he said, turning and staring into her eyes. "Out now," he repeated, although this time his voice held compassion.

Diana turned to go, herding everybody else out in front of her.

When the door closed, Jeff quickly stepped toward Doctor Boswell. A few seconds later, he felt the inquisitive mental touch of the Healer as he brought it close to the gasping woman.

-------

An hour dragged by. Diana had started to open the bedroom door twice; both times, Jeff had rebuked her, almost harshly. At last, he cracked the door and called her. She got up and hurried into the bedroom.

Jeff was standing by the bed looking down at Doctor Boswell, who appeared to be asleep. The sobs and gasping were gone, and she seemed to be breathing normally, although her color still didn't look right to Diana. She didn't see the device that Jeff had been holding when he ran everyone out, but there was a suspicious bulge under the sheet that covered Doctor Boswell's chest.

Jeff glanced up at his wife as they bent over the sleeping woman, "No one looks under that sheet until I say so. I pulled her top off and unhooked her bra. You can remove the rest of her clothes, and maybe put pajama bottoms on her if you want to, but keep her chest covered while you do. She'll probably be very deeply asleep all day. I'll wake her late this evening so she can drink something. When she is awake, we'll need to feed her a little, of course. But count on her being asleep most of the time for the next two or three days."

"Jeff, what was that... ?"

"Don't ask, Diana, and I won't have to lie to you, now will I?" he said in clipped tones, then brushed past her as he started to leave the bedroom. Turning, he spoke again, his voice harsh, "Remember, Diana, no one looks under that sheet for any reason until I say it's okay."

In seconds, all the women were in the room asking questions in hushed tones, having heard Jeff's order. Diana raised her voice, "Jeff said Doctor Boswell will be fine. He also emphatically said that none of us were to look under the sheet for any reason, until he told us we could. Obviously, for some reason, he doesn't want us to look at whatever he brought in here. We will honor that. Is that clear to everyone?" she asked, looking at each of them in turn. At their nods, she continued, "She will sleep most of the time for two or three days." Diana, turning to her daughter, continued, "Go find your dad. He is really stressed right now, and I don't have time to speculate about it. Just find him quickly. Sit in his lap. Stick your boob in his mouth. Do what you have to, but do not let him make you leave him. Stay with him. Go right now."

Arlene looked at her for a second, then ran out of the room.

Diana looked at Laura and reached a decision. "Let's get her clothes off; get some pajama bottoms on her. We can just bunch the sheet on her chest, do the rest, then straighten the sheet back out without looking under it."

A few minutes later, they had everything fixed in the bedroom, having managed to change the bottom sheet on the bed, as well. They had even brushed Helen's hair and washed her face. She seemed to be either deeply asleep, or unconscious, but since Jeff had said she would be fine, everyone was trying to believe it.

Straightening up from bending over Helen, Diana looked around her. "We're going to have to watch over her." Hesitating a moment, she added, "I think two of us should stay with her at all times. Maybe two-hour shifts will do it. Arlene will stay with her dad until we figure out what's wrong, so that leaves only five of us. Someone will have to double up on the shifts. We'll take care of that later. Okay, who's first?"

Jennie and Ann volunteered before the others could say anything.

Diana glanced at her watch and looked at the two girls. "Go get yourself a book or something to do. I thought about just leaving the bedroom door open with you two in the sitting room. You could watch TV that way, but I'm a little worried about doing that, so just run get you something to pass the time, then come back in here and stay. And," she said, delaying them as they started to leave, "I'll find Jeff and Arlene. I'll call you and give you the extension number where Jeff is. I'll also give Arlene instructions to keep you updated wherever he goes. If Doctor Boswell should get worse, I want you to know the extension where our husband is so you can call him quickly."

"Okay," they chorused, then hurried out.

"Laura, would you and Melissa take the next shift?" she asked, looking at them. When they nodded, she continued, "I'm going to bring a coffeemaker and some snacks down, then I'm going to find Jeff and try to figure out what's bothering him. Everybody knows that I fussed at him about lying to me about whatever he does with the military. I suppose that's what he was talking about, but I don't understand why he was so upset. And I don't understand why he's hiding whatever he used on Doctor Boswell, but I imagine it has something to do with the military."

She started to ask Laura and Melissa to stay until Ann and Jennie got back, but they came rushing in before she could ask.

"Di, go find Jeff. Melissa and I will get the coffeemaker and the snacks," Laura said. "As soon as we have that taken care of, I'll fix Jeff breakfast. It's almost ten and he hasn't eaten since dinner; not to say anything about him fucking six females senseless last night," she finished, grinning.

"Thanks." Diana hugged Laura for a second and started out.

A few minutes later, Diana pushed the sliding door open onto Jeff's favorite deck. Arlene was sitting on his lap kissing him. From the wet splotches on her top and the obviously erect nipples tenting it, she guessed that Jeff had been nursing. Diana smiled at her mental choice of words. Her husband didn't like to nurse, rather he sucked titty, or sucked her milk. She doubted he would be in the mood to take care of her, regardless of what he called it, if his attitude hadn't improved considerably.

My breasts are full again. I guess I'll have to use the pump. First though, I'm going to try to have a talk with him.

As Diana got close to Jeff, he reached out and pulled her to him. Arlene scrambled out of the way, and Diana allowed herself to be pulled onto his lap.

As Jeff started to kiss her, she said, "Wait a second, Jeff." Turning to Arlene, she instructed, "Call the 'honeymoon suite' and give Ann and Jennie the extension number here so they can get Jeff quickly if they need him."

Arlene picked up the phone, dialed, then said, "He's on the deck at 151. If we go somewhere else, I'll call and give you the number ... Okay. Bye."

Jeff grinned, said, "When did you need to keep track of me? Every one of you knows where I am all the time."

Responding as if he meant his question literally, although Diana suspected he was just grumping, she answered, "We all know where you are, generally. I mean, we know about where you are, but this place has so many rooms that Ann and Jennie need to know the extension where you are in case something happens with Helen."

Jeff just looked at her and frowned. "They won't need me. It..." he faltered, then stopped.

When he didn't say anything else, Arlene turned to her mother. "I'll go and get Daddy something to eat."

"Okay, Honey. Laura is already doing that, but you can help her."

Arlene left the deck, and Diana kissed her husband. When Jeff broke the kiss, he said, "I'm sorry, Baby. I have some problems, but I shouldn't have treated you the way I did in the bedroom."

"Don't worry about it. I know you're stressed." Considering a moment, she asked, "Jeff, what was that thing you had? Obviously that's what took care of Helen. I know she was having a heart attack. I took her pulse and listened to her heart again just before I came out here." Seeing the look on Jeff's face, she quickly added, "I just slipped the stethoscope under the sheet, and I made sure not to touch whatever that is you put on her. Her heart sounds a lot better, and her pulse is down to about a hundred and ten. Can't you, please, tell me what's going on?"

"Diana, I..."

"Fuck this military secret bullshit," Diana hissed. "You just saved her life. You said she would be fine, and maybe she will be, but her heart isn't perfect yet. The rhythm is still wrong, although she seems a whole lot better. Do we need to get her to a hospital?"

"No, Baby," he sighed, "I think she will continue to improve. I don't know just how long it will take, but two or three days should do it. She should be back to normal ... that includes her heart. By then it will be perfect."

Diana, still sitting on his lap, turned and straddled him. Staring him in the eye for a moment, she continued, "Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"I can't, Baby. I really, really can't."

I can't make you understand that I literally can't tell you,  he thought. I've already breached security by letting you see the Healer, let alone using it on someone where people know it was used. The Colonel will have a shit fit when he finds out, and that won't even start to describe the General's reaction.

Aloud he said, "Baby, I know it's hard on you, but please understand I just can't talk about this. I'm probably already in some deep doo-doo for ... using..." he managed to get out before stopping, his face turning gray.

Diana suddenly sat bolt upright. "You can't, can you? You literally can't." After a minute, she quietly said, "Ah, shit," mimicking Jeff's favorite comment. Putting her fingertips to his lips she said, "I always thought that you meant you couldn't tell me things without violating your security. And that's okay, I understand that, although, it does piss me off from time to time. But you didn't mean that you had to maintain secrecy, and wouldn't say. It was more than that. You literally could not speak about the things I asked, and now this thing...

"Oh, Jeff, what are you involved in that they would do this to you? Surely this is more than just military secrecy bullshit. Crap, they think how many eggs you had for breakfast is 'need to know.' But this is even more than that, isn't it?"

Jeff just looked at her. "Diana, I..."

Suddenly, she fiercely hugged him. "Shit," she muttered over and over again, "Shit."

After awhile, Jeff started to slide her top up. Diana pulled back, though. "Not now. Oh, you know that I would love that, but Laura is fixing your breakfast. Let's go get your tummy full, then we can check on Helen again." I can use the pump. Jeff is more important than my little bit of discomfort, and we really need to get some food into him. As Jeff started to protest, Diana continued, "Come on," she said, standing and taking his hand. "We can talk later. We need to have a plan for when Helen wakes up."

-------

Arlene had gone to the "honeymoon suite" with a coffeemaker and snacks. They already had soft drinks in the fridge. Jeff sat in the kitchen sipping coffee while Laura and Diana finished putting his breakfast on the table. They got coffee for themselves and sat with him.

Jeff glanced up as they sat. "After all the times I have cautioned the girls to be circumspect about our relationships, what do I do but come up with the most dumbass thing at absolutely the worst time possible. Saying that I feel like an idiot isn't even close."

"Well," Laura sighed, "Like the girls were kidding about, a sore pussy has gotten to be a badge of honor with them." Looking at Diana and winking, she continued, "I guess Di and I have fallen into that category as well. Just about all of us have shown our naked crotches in that doorway, so why shouldn't you? Quit beating yourself up about this. Instead, I think we need to discuss what the outcome is going to be as far as our teacher is concerned."

"I agree," Diana interjected, "but, Jeff there is something that I think you're overlooking about what's happened. First off, nobody gets a heart attack from crying, no matter how hard they cry, unless that heart attack was imminent, anyway. Oh, she might not have had it for a few days, maybe a month or two, but it was coming. The sobbing and the stress of her finally breaking down over her husband and lover set it off, but she could have had it driving up here, or climbing the stairs — anything, or swimming laps yesterday, for that matter. Her having it when she did probably saved her life. Had you not used that ... whatever it is, she would have died. I don't think anyone at this table thinks she would have lasted another five minutes.

"So my darling husband, as much as you seem to want to berate yourself for your little joke, in my opinion, it may have set things in motion to save her life. I wonder if she knew that she had a heart problem?" Diana asked no one in particular.

Jeff grinned at his wife. "Hon, you would make a great politician." When Diana made a moue, he continued, "But I hate to think what could have happened if she were carrying the girls on an outing and that heart attack hit while they were on one of these mountain roads."

"I know that you can't say anything much about what you did, but do you think she'll remember anything?" Diana asked.

"She opened her eyes just before ... I..." Jeff managed to say, obviously looking for words that would work past his block, "but I don't know how much she'll remember, or if she were even really conscious."

"I'll be willing to bet she will remember having the heart attack, at least the beginning of it," Laura spoke up. "I remember her holding and rubbing her left arm just before she fell over. She knew she was having a heart attack. This woman is a genius. She also figured out what was going on with our family, and she did it before you came in with your cock in a sling," Laura said, chuckling. "She said she already had it figured out, but the rings cinched it. So Jeff, you're beating yourself up over something that was already done before you walked through that door. And to continue the previous thought, she is certainly smart enough to recognize the symptoms of a heart attack, distraught at the time or not. She'll remember — and wonder why she suddenly got over it.

"Since she woke up while you were ... working on her. With a mind like hers, you can bet she'll remember. She will know something healed her. Do we fabricate a tale and lie to a genius? She'll figure out we're lying and never trust us, if we do. A lie isn't a good way to start a relationship, to state the obvious.

"What made her so distraught," Laura continued, "was seeing our love for each other, and realizing the intimacy as well. Then her world came crashing down, to use a worn out phrase, when she realized, apparently truly realized for the first time, what she had lost, and finally fully understood that she would never have it again. I feel so sorry for her."

Diana suddenly sat upright. "Jeff, what were you doing with that thing? Surely you didn't steal that from the military, did you?" Answering herself, she said, "No. I know you better than that."

"No, of course I didn't steal ... it," he managed to get out. "I would never steal."

Jeff turned in his seat, his face ashen. He got up and made it to the sink before he threw up, his body shaking as he held tightly to the edge of the cabinet.

Both women tried to help him, but as they asked what was wrong, he threw up again, real projectile vomiting. Laura looked at Diana. "Di, I'm almost certain he's been conditioned, and we're pushing him too hard. We need to stop. The more we have asked and discussed this, the worse he has gotten. I noticed it start a few minutes ago. Every time he tried to answer, it got worse."

"Yeah, I figured that out on the deck," Diana said.

Diana and Laura glanced at each other as Jeff leaned over the sink with dry heaves. Both radiated anger and indignation that someone would do this to their husband.

Diana grabbed a dish towel, wet it and wiped Jeff's face, then dampening another, put it around the back of his neck. After a moment, he started to walk back to his chair at the table, but the women encouraged him to go into the living room, with their help.

"I'll get something for you to use if your stomach acts up again," Diana said, as they helped him into a recliner, then she rushed back into the kitchen. He was asleep by the time she returned.

Laura motioned for Diana to come sit farther down the big living room where they could carry on a quiet conversation without waking Jeff. Pulling two chairs close, they sat.

Laura reached over and took Diana's hand. "If it's conditioning — some type of hypnosis — then he should get better soon, shouldn't he? We're not pushing him anymore to talk about it."

Diana shook her head. "Crap, I don't know. I have no idea what's possible with drugs and hypnosis, if that's what is wrong. I think the military is capable of anything. I just know that I'm worried sick about our husband. He suddenly went from being all right, albeit stressed about using that thing and us knowing about it, to being really sick. He's weak enough to scare me. But, let's try to not overreact to this. Besides, he hasn't thrown up again, and he seems to be sleeping."

"Yeah," Laura agreed, "I guess I was getting a little frantic. Heck, he may just have an upset stomach," she finished, but neither of them believed it.

Arlene returned shortly after Jeff went to sleep. When she was told what had happened, she passed the word and all the girls cycled through checking on him.

When Ann came in, she said, "Don't worry about shifts, we're all staying with Helen. When we need something, one of us will go and get it. Two of us will always be with her, though. You and Laura don't have to worry about taking care of her; we'll do it. Are you sure Jeff is all right?"

Diana told her that she thought he would be, and to not worry.

Laura cleaned the sink, and they sat with him for a little over an hour before Jeff awoke. Other than being a little groggy, and still somewhat weak, he appeared to be okay. They soon realized that he seemed to have very little memory of their conversation at the table. Either that, or he was forcing his mind elsewhere.

Again Laura and Diana locked eyes for a second and made a silent resolution.

After awhile, Jeff mentioned that he was hungry. He had barely gotten half his breakfast down before it came back up. Essentially, he still hadn't had anything to eat today, and they needed to get something into him that would stay down. "It's almost twelve," Laura said. "Do you think you could keep some tomato soup and maybe a grilled cheese sandwich on your stomach?"

"That sounds good," Jeff replied.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Laura said, motioning Diana to stay with Jeff.

Jennie came in with some mouthwash and a bowl. "This will probably help the taste in your mouth," she tactfully said, offering them to Jeff.

"In other words," Jeff said, trying to grin about it, some of his disposition coming back, "I have vomit breath."

When he had used the mouthwash, Jennie passionately kissed him, "Not anymore," she said, walking out of the room to put things away, overemphasizing her hip swing, then looking back over her shoulder to see if he noticed.

"Looks like somebody is horny," Diana smiled as Jennie left the room.

Jeff groaned.

"Oh, poor Baby. He has a hard life. With the emphasis on hard."

"Diana, Hon, there are six of you."

"Yeah," she quipped. "And as best I can remember, until the world went black, you did a fantastic job of consummating our marriage last night."

"But we did that each night before, one at a time."

"So? The exchange of rings was significant, too. This time you got to consummate the marriage with all of us together. And my dear Alpha Male fucked us all brainless, even if it did take you the better part of six hours to do it."

Diana was sitting in his lap kissing him when Laura brought in Jeff's meal.

"What about the rest of you?" Jeff asked. "I'm fine now. I could eat at the table."

"Just relax for a while, my husband," Laura said, drawing out the word. "Besides, the grilled cheese and tomato soup smelled so good, I'm fixing some for everybody. Gotta run before something burns. Enjoy."

"She's a damn fine assistant," Jeff kidded.

"She will be when you get to the point you can use her. She's a 'damn fine' wife right now, though," Diana kidded back.

Jeff just grinned and dug in.

After lunch, he seemed almost back to normal. Jeff stood. "Why don't we go check on our new teacher?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" Diana asked, taking his arm and snuggling to him.

"I'm still a little shaky, but I'm fine. Let's see what she looks like now."

When they walked into the suite, Ann and Jennie were watching TV in the sitting room, while Melissa and Arlene were reading in the bedroom next to the bed. Helen was still lying on her back with her mouth partially open, breathing deeply.

Diana picked up her stethoscope. "She moved around a little a couple of times, Mom," Arlene said. "But otherwise, she just lies there. We haven't tried calling her name, but we haven't been very quiet, either. We weren't loud, but we talk to each other and it doesn't seem to bother Doctor Boswell."

After rubbing the chest piece on her palm to warm it, Diana slid it under the sheet, careful to not touch the instrument making the bulge under the cover. After listening to several places on Doctor Boswell's chest, then taking her pulse, Diana stood back up with a sigh. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. "I wish I knew more about the heart. All I can say is that it sounds, maybe, a little stronger. It still has sounds that shouldn't be there, and the rhythm isn't right. Her pulse is stronger though, but still about one hundred and ten. She sounds better than she did before Jeff ... helped her, though."

"She'll be still better tomorrow," Jeff insisted.

Diana frowned. "We are going to have to get some fluids into her by tonight, I should think. Do you still think she will wake tonight, Baby? She's also going to have a full bladder, and her body will take care of that. I think I had better fold a large towel and put that under her, just in case."

If I understood the impressions I was getting from the Healer, it is going to wake her when her body needs liquids. Am I crazy? Is this thing really trying to talk to me when I touch it? "She will probably wake up later today," Jeff said. "When she does, we can get some liquids into her and get her to the bathroom."

"Okay. Then that's a plan."

They shooed Jeff out of the room while they put a pad under Doctor Boswell, just in case.

While they were doing that, he walked down the hall and negotiated the dust and sound barrier. As he neared their suite, construction noise became more evident. One of the carpenters nodded as he finished cutting a two-by-four with a circular saw. "He's over there."

Jeff and the contractor noticed each other about the same time. "Good," Henson said, "I need to talk to you."

They went over several minor details of the shower installation, then went up to the second floor. Henson told him that he thought the bedroom suite would be finished by tomorrow afternoon. He estimated that the classrooms, office and lab should take about three weeks with the crew that he had available at the moment. After covering a few more details concerning the classrooms, and double-checking his notes, he shook hands with Jeff and headed back to the bedroom suite.

Laura found Jeff in the basement lab and they spent some time deciding what would go where. As they started to leave, Jeff gently pushed her over to a wall. "Lean over," he said, pulling her shorts and panties down.

"Easy, Baby, I'm sore from last night," she admonished.

"Yeah, me too, so I'll go easy."

Jeff made her lean over farther, then getting down on his knees, he licked her pussy until she was squirming and pleading with him to put his cock in. A few minutes later, he pumped his load into her. Holding her around the waist to keep her from falling, he let his cock soak in her full pussy until their breathing returned to near-normal.

Laura sighed and chuckled. "It feels so naughty doing this. I almost want to worry about Diana catching us."

"You're my wife now," he chastised, "When we want to make love, we don't have to ask anyone." He slowly eased his deflating cock out of her pussy, which resulted in a gush of come that started running down her thighs.

"I know," she sighed, pulling her panties and shorts back up and adjusting them, "and I'm happier than I have ever been in my life. I guess I still can't believe that Diana has allowed me to share her husband." She wrapped her arms around him and put her head against his chest. A couple of moments later she chuckled as she felt another dollop of come slide down her leg. "I guess I need to do a little cleanup before starting supper. I'll bet Diana is already in the kitchen." Looking up at him, she softly said, "You need to take special care of her today. You snapped at her a bit. She didn't mean to upset you."

Jeff leaned down and deeply kissed her. "Thanks. I love you. And I'll go do that right now."

When Jeff and Laura walked into the kitchen, Diana was, indeed, starting supper. Laura looked at him and grinned. "I'll take care of it," she assured him, giving him a little push.

When he walked over and picked Diana up, she squealed. Jeff looked back over his shoulder as he carried her out. "Call some of the girls to help you," he instructed.

"No need," Laura answered, "some of them will be here in a few minutes."

As they started down the hall, Diana kept trying to protest that she shouldn't leave Laura to do all the work by herself. Jeff got tired of listening to her and flipped her over his shoulder. Her breasts bounced against his back as he walked. He had one hand on a leg and the other on her ass. He could smell her arousal before he turned into the first bedroom they came to and unceremoniously dropped her on the bed.

He gently took her clothes off, kissed and licked her pussy through half a dozen orgasms, then slow-fucked her for a solid thirty minutes. While he pumped his sperm into her, she held him with her legs still tightly wrapped around him, milking his cock with her pussy muscles. When her pussy finally pushed his shrunken member from her, he hurried to the bathroom and returned with a towel, but it was too late to save the spread. They lay, kissing and cuddling for a while.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you."

She sighed in contentment and held a breast for him as he drained the milk from that one, then the other.

As they were getting dressed, Arlene stuck her head in the door. "Supper in ten minutes," she said, grinning.

Diana started to throw a pillow at her, but Arlene closed the door before her mother had a chance to do it.

"Do they always know where we are?" Jeff asked rhetorically.

"Yeah," Diana answered, "and I knew you were fucking Laura, too. I was so hot I could hardly think when you opened that kitchen door and scooped me up," she said as she took her husband's hand. "Let's go find out what they made for us."

Now how in the crap did she know I was fucking Laura? Neither of us said anything.

As they walked back down the hall toward the kitchen, Diana grabbed him around his waist and tugged his arm around her. Glancing up at him as they walked, she said, "Not only did I know you were fucking Laura, I'll bet all your other wives did too. You will be lucky to make it to bedtime before you have to start servicing the girls."

Entering the kitchen, they met Arlene coming out with a tray loaded with food. "Melissa and I are going to eat while we watch Doctor Boswell."

"Okay, Baby," Diana answered, "we'll be down after supper."

-------

After supper and the kitchen cleanup, everybody looked expectantly at Jeff. "Yeah, I guess it's about time," he acknowledged, heading for the 'honeymoon suite.'

When they got there, Jeff asked everyone to stay in the sitting room while he tried to wake Helen. Putting his hand under the sheet, he touched the Healer.

{{{?? }}}

Trying to focus on Doctor Boswell waking up, he soon felt the mental touch of the Healer. There seemed to be emotions and ... other things that were not part of his mind, but everything was jumbled.

Mentally shrugging, he picked the Healer up. He quickly put it on a shelf in the closet, and returned to Boswell. Her eyes were already open, and she groggily started asking questions. "I'm going to carry you to the bathroom," he softly announced as he pulled the sheet down and gathered her in his arms.

Crap, I forgot about Diana saying they were going to put a pad under her. I guess the pajama bottoms had to stay off if the pad was going to work. Oh, well, too late now,  he thought, picking up the nude woman.

"I'm naked," she mumbled as he carried her and put her gently down on the commode. When he saw that she could sit without falling, he left and called Diana.

When Diana came in, he motioned to the closed bathroom door. "I tried to save as much of her dignity as I could..."

"I'll stay with her and get her back into bed. Tell someone to bring in the glass of orange juice I put in the refrigerator. I'll see if I can get her to drink that after she gets out of the bathroom."

"Okay. When you have her back in bed, call me and I'll put her back to sleep. She still has a long way to go."

A little later, Arlene opened the bedroom door and called her father. "She's a lot more awake now, and asking a bunch of questions," she whispered to him.

"I had a heart attack, didn't I?" Doctor Boswell asked as soon as she saw Jeff. "Nobody will tell me anything. Why am I not in a hospital? I remember a terrible pain in my chest. There was a blue light." She was trying to sit up as Jeff ushered Diana and Arlene out of the room. Picking up the Healer from the closet, he held it beside him out of Helen's line of sight.

"Helen, I'm going to put you back to sleep. You will be much better tomorrow. There's absolutely no cause for worry," he said as he tried to inconspicuously move the Healer under the sheet near her chest. Blue beams reached out for her.

"No. I want to know..."

She sighed, tried momentarily to fight it, then was out.

Jeff tucked the sheet back and called to Diana.

She returned along with everyone else. Listening for a longer period of time with the stethoscope, she finally took it from her ears and said, "Her heart sounds stronger. The rhythm is still a little off, but it's sounding more like a normal heart." Tossing the stethoscope onto the dresser, frustrated, she snapped, "I wish I knew more. It's annoying to hear something and not know what it is. But unless I've completely forgotten what they taught me, she is better. Probably, a lot better."

"I'll wake her in the morning. As much as the Healer has been on her, she's going to be in for some surprises..." he managed to get out before his conditioning clamped down. Damn. I can't believe it let me say that. I guess I just forgot and blurted it out without thinking. But there was sweat beading his forehead now. He wheeled and left the bedroom.

The women all looked at one another. "I'll go this time," Jennie said as she quickly left the room.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Arlene said, grinning. "She'll get his mind off his problems, though." Turning to her mom, she asked, "Since Doctor Boswell is better, is there any need to have more than one of us with her?"

"Well," Diana answered, "I guess not. The one staying can always call us if she needs anything. Nevertheless, I want Helen watched until at least midnight, then checked every hour throughout the rest of the night. I'll do the hourly checks after midnight if you girls will take it until then."

Laura spoke up, "Why don't the two of us alternate the checks? That way we will both get enough sleep."

"That sounds good to me. We could just sleep together since we've already had Jeff this afternoon. Then the two who haven't managed to get into his pants by bedtime can sleep with him. I'm sure Jennie will be walking funny in a little while."

"I'm next," Melissa said, laughing.

"Then Arlene and I get to sleep with him," Ann injected. "I'll sit with Doctor Boswell for a couple of hours now."

Melissa volunteered for the next shift. They decided to give Jennie and Jeff some privacy, and turned on the TV in the sitting room, knowing that their husband and sister-wife were in the main living room. Arlene put some popcorn in the microwave, and they settled in.

-------

The next morning, Jeff had the Healer wake Helen, then after putting it into the closet, he called Diana and Laura to take Boswell to the bathroom. When she was back in bed, Ann came in with a light breakfast that Boswell quickly made disappear. Adamantly, she demanded to know what was going on as Jeff ushered everyone out of the bedroom. She knew what was coming and tried to convince Jeff not to put her to sleep, but the Healer came on, she glared at him, her eyes lost focus and she slept.

Shit. She's gotten a glimpse of the Healer twice, and will again when I wake her this afternoon. Another day or so and she will be well, though, if I understand what it's trying to tell me. I'm afraid she's going to be hard to keep quiet. I don't have the foggiest notion how I'm going to accomplish that. I've used the Healer on Diana and Arlene several times over the last couple of years, then the rest of them after they came out here, but all of them were asleep when I used it, and they didn't see it. It's been on Boswell much longer than anyone else. I wonder how long it will take for the effects to show on her body? Surely she's smart enough to keep her mouth shut if I explain things to her. If I could explain things to her. I'll get Diana to talk to her. Diana knows enough to, maybe, convince Helen to keep quiet about this. The Colonel is going to have my ass on a platter as it is.



-------

Chapter 2

Jeff got up at four thirty for his run. As he stepped out the back door, the first of the construction crew was arriving. Seeing Jeff, Henson walked over. "We should be done by three or four tomorrow, even if I have to help with the molding," he said while they shook hands.

"Look," Jeff said, "if you get close, you'll still get your bonus. I don't want anything done half-assed. Take enough time to do it right."

Henson' face flushed. "I don't do anything 'half-assed'. And I sure as hell don't do 'half-assed' work to get a bonus," he finished, indignantly. "Your suite will get done right today, or if we run into problems, it will get done right tomorrow..."

Jeff broke in, "Alright, I apologize. I was out of line. Piss poor choice of words. You did an excellent job with the lab. I had no call to say what I did. No excuse, but I've been a little stressed the last couple of days. I even snapped at my wife for no reason."

Henson looked at him for a moment, then grinned. "Ah, hell. I shouldn't have let a comment like that get to me. I guess we're both stressed. My electrician still isn't back, and last night at midnight my best finish carpenter took his wife to the hospital to have a baby. He's going to take off a couple of weeks to be with her. And I was trying too hard to earn that bonus, and still do a perfect job."

"Okay, let's do it this way," Jeff said, "Plan on finishing up day after tomorrow — not tomorrow. Double check and make sure everything is the way you want it to be. Then worry about starting on the school. We can start our school on time anywhere in the house, then when the classrooms are done, we'll move into them. If it takes a couple of weeks — or a month, it won't make a bit of difference. It's time for both of us to break away from the stress."

Henson sighed, "My biggest problem right now isn't just time, it's that finish carpenter. I've got a lot of crown molding to put up and the guy I've got now just isn't good at it. My regular guy puts in corners with seams that are almost invisible, and he works fast..."

Jeff rubbed his chin and thought a moment. "Okay, improvise, adapt and overcome. Isn't that what they say?" he rhetorically asked. "Why don't you do this? Finish up the suite except for the crown, then when your finish carpenter comes back to work, have him install it. We can certainly live without molding for a couple of weeks. And I have no problem with your bonus if everything else is done."

"Mr. Matthews, I would really appreciate that. We will just move the furniture aside a little and cover it when we put the molding up. That will work, and I'll be able to do the job the way I want it to be done. That guy is an artist when it comes to finish work, and this place is too nice to have sloppy crown molding installed in it. He was really uptight when he had to take off when he did, but neither he nor his wife have any family to help with the new baby, and his wife had some problems with the delivery. He was looking forward to putting up that beautiful wide crown. Shit, the guy I've got now is scared of the job."

Jeff laughed, "I don't blame him. I tried putting some of that stuff up once. Once. Never again. And my corner joints were wide enough to put your finger in," he exaggerated.

Jeff and Henson talked for a few minutes more before the contractor hustled the last of his crew into the house, and Jeff started his ten-mile run.

That day and the next, the household basically revolved around taking care of Helen.

The third day after Helen's heart attack, after his run, Jeff showered and shaved. When he was done, they all met in the "honeymoon suite" to wake Helen. Alone with her, he touched the healer, and stood "listening." Although he couldn't exactly communicate with it, he got the impression, as he had already suspected, that the little machine's job was done, and it began awakening Helen. It seemed to take longer for her to wake this time, but her eyes suddenly popped open, and she stared at the healer.

Ah crap. I expected her to be groggy, but I think she faked me off. She must have waited to open her eyes until she had control of her faculties. She wanted to catch me with the healer in my hand — and she did. I keep forgetting how smart this woman is. Shit.

Quickly turning, he went into the walk-in closet and concealed the healer. When he came back, Doctor Boswell was grinning at him. "What is that thing? Why won't you let me see it properly?"

Ignoring her questions, he said, "I'll get Diana to help you to the bathroom. Then we'll get you some breakfast."

"I don't need any help." Slightly raising the sheet, she looked at herself. "Where are my clothes?" Then apparently remembering, "You carried me to the bathroom before, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did the first time we got you out of bed. I'm sorry I embarrassed you. You were a little too weak to walk at the time."

"I remember Diana helping me to the bathroom; although, I can't remember how many times. But I do remember you carrying me." After a rather sick grin. "It is rather humiliating to have a good looking man sit you on a commode."

"As opposed to an ugly man," he teased.

She looked at him, the beginning of a smile twitching her lips. Pushing herself into a sitting position against the headboard while keeping the sheet tucked above her breasts, she said, "I do have to go the bathroom, rather intensely, at that."

"I'll send Diana," he answered, quickly leaving the room.

Diana was ready to come in as soon as he opened the door. Stopping her, he whispered in her ear, "Don't let her go in the closet until I can put the healer away. I've already got enough problems." Diana squeezed his hand, walked in and closed the door.

The girls had laundered Helen's clothes and put them in the closet. Diana brought them out and put them on the vanity just outside the bathroom door. Tapping on the door, she told Helen where the clothes were, then went to sit in the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Doctor Boswell came out fully dressed. "I guess I need to sit down. I'm a little dizzy and weak."

After she had seated herself, they looked at each other a moment. "I guess we owe you an explanation," Diana started.

"Now that," Helen grinned "would probably fall into the infamous category of a slight understatement." Frowning, she continued, "What's going on? Why all the secrecy? Is that thing that Jeff put on me another of his inventions? I know I had a heart attack, yet you people didn't get me to a hospital. Why would you keep me from getting medical attention?"

Before Diana could answer, the door suddenly burst open and all four girls rushed in. Someone bumped Arlene's arm and almost upset the tray of food she was bringing to Doctor Boswell. They all squealed when they saw Boswell sitting in the chair, and descended on her for a hug, deluging her with questions, hugging her repeatedly.

"Girls," Diana finally said, "Don't you think it would be nice if you gave Doctor Boswell her breakfast now."

They all looked stunned for a second, then there was a flurry to set the folding table up and get the tray from the dresser where Arlene had set it.

Diana and Laura glanced at each other, then Diana turned back to Helen. "Laura and I are going to leave you with your students for a little while. After breakfast, if you feel strong enough, we'll have a talk."

Helen nodded at them as Ann poured coffee, and Jennie stirred in creamer and sweetener. "We remembered how you liked it," Jennie said.

Laura and Diana turned and walked out the door, proud of their children/sister wives.

-------

An hour or so later, Diana had just walked out of the living room on the way to the kitchen when she saw Helen walking toward her still surrounded by the girls. Diana stepped back to the living room doorway and motioned for Laura.

As all the women seated themselves in the kitchen, Diana caught each girl's eye.

"Guess it's time for the children to... uumph," Melissa almost got out before she caught an elbow in the ribs.

"They left us with Doctor Boswell. Now it's their time," Arlene sweetly said. "And they know more about this than we do." She started for the door with the rest following.

"You didn't have to crack me in the ribs. I would have figured it out..." Melissa was saying as the door closed.

"Am I seeing a pecking order being established?" Helen asked, a bemused expression on her face.

"I doubt it," Diana responded. "I suspect it came from an incident we had a month or two ago with Arlene. I was going to send her out of the room while the adults talked. I was wrong. That's when our family conferences started. But Arlene, and everyone else, for that matter, knows that Laura and I can tell you more about what happened. And there are reasons that we know a little more than the girls do."

Doctor Boswell interrupted. "I don't mean to be ungrateful for what you have done, but there are some things I have to ask. I have asked the girls, but I'm really not satisfied with their answers." When Diana tried to talk, Helen motioned with her hand for silence, "Please, just tell me why you were so certain that my death was imminent, and why you decided to not get me to professional help."

"Would you like some more coffee?" Laura asked, trying to tone down the situation.

Helen sighed, "Sure," she said. "I apologize. This has been a rather harrowing experience for me. I thought I was in perfect health... Yes, I would like more coffee. And I'll try my absolute best to let you two talk."

When they were all seated with coffee in front of them, Diana started, "A few years ago Jeff had started making sufficient money for me to quit my part time jobs. I quickly tired of staying in the house, and with a friend of mine, I started taking a paramedic course. There were reasons why I chose that particular course, but they aren't important right now. Anyway, I got about two-thirds of the way through the course and had to quit because Jeff was going to be gone for several months. Shortly after that, our income went downhill again, and I no longer had the money, or the time to complete the course."

Boswell started to say something, but Diana indicated she should wait. "When you became so upset, then started having the heart attack, the signs were classic. We did, indeed, start to call 911, but out here that would mean thirty minutes for an ambulance just to get here, assuming they found the house on the first try." Everyone grinned a little at that, knowing how hard the house was to find. "Then, there would be the trip to the hospital, which would take even longer."

"However," Diana said, reaching over and taking Helen's hand, then quietly saying, "You didn't have even that first half hour, let alone time for a trip to the hospital. You were minutes, at best, from death." Quickly going on before Helen could say anything, Diana said, "About half of heart attack deaths are sudden cardiac arrests. They result from a blockage in the vessels that supply blood to the heart muscle. Death occurs within minutes of the first symptom. Many times, the first symptom of heart disease is death. From what I was told in school, the blockage to the left anterior descending artery (LAD) is called the widow maker for that reason.

"Whatever happened, you reached the point where you were just barely gasping for air; your heart had quit beating and started fibrillating — you were dying. It didn't take a paramedic — which I certainly am not, nor a nurse, nor a doctor — to tell you were dying. That you must clearly understand. And understand this Doctor Boswell, this must never, ever,  leave our house. I strongly suspect that my — our — husband," she said, defiantly, "risked an awful lot to save you from death. He was violently sick after having fought his conditioning to bring that... machine out and use it on you."

Laura spoke up. "She's absolute right, Helen. I think that,... I know that Jeff has received some type of very strong conditioning. He was violently ill after he used, what he called, the 'healer' on you. Sick enough to scare us silly."

"I pushed him," Diana guiltily said. "He tried to tell me he could not say anything. But I though he just wouldn't because of some military bullshit." Unshed tears threatened, but she held them in check. "I had been pushing him, off and on, for weeks about my apparent youth, and other things, and we think the conditioning kicked in. Maybe one of these days, I'll learn to shut my mouth."

"My husband, uh, our husband, is obviously still in the military in some manner, or is somehow associated with the Federal Government. I don't know how, and Jeff won't, or can't, tell me.

"He assures me that he has the healer legitimately. When he made that statement, it seemed to turn his conditioning on full force. You have no idea what he looked like. Even your face didn't look much grayer than his, and you were dying. I was — we were — very afraid for him. We still are."

"I'm sorry," Helen quietly said, "I had no idea that it cost him so much to use that instrument on me."

"It doesn't seem to be the using of the machine that affects his conditioning, rather that anyone knowing he is using it, or seeing it, or him trying to talk about it." Glancing at Laura for confirmation, "Apparently the conditioning, if that's what it is, is directed toward absolute secrecy of the healer. At least, that's what Laura and I think.

"Okay, enough on that for now. Jeff said you were embarrassed that he had carried you to the bathroom while you were nude. He also commented that you probably felt, shall we say, a little less at ease when you woke up still nude. That was my idea, I guess. You see, you were deeply asleep, unconscious more correctly, at least at first, and we were afraid, well... your bodily functions..."

"I might urinate on myself," Doctor Boswell supplied, a bemused expression on her face.

Diana took a sip of her forgotten coffee. "We had a towel under you, but well, we left the pajamas off after that. Understand though, you were well cared for. Until midnight last night, there was at least one person with you. For the first day, there were two — two alert people sitting within three feet of you. In addition, Jeff checked on you and did whatever he did with the healer, twice a day. Even after the first night, we checked on you every hour. You have been bathed — heck, the girls even washed and dried your hair. Practically every time you moved, or your breathing momentarily changed, they called me or Jeff to look at you.

"Jeff assured us you would be fine. That cost him too, but he was adamant about it — and we believed him. My husband is an extremely intelligent man. I know you're a genius, a child prodigy..." Diana shushed Boswell when she started to object. Continuing, she said, "Never think that my husband is very far behind you. And for that matter, neither is Laura," she said, smiling at her sister-wife. "I don't have their intellect, but I know my husband."

Laura put her hand on Diana's arm. "Di, the only difference in the two of us as far as intelligence is concerned, is that I have more education. While I was getting mine, you were putting your husband through college. Jeff is determined that you're going to get your chance to get a degree, commencing in the very near future."

Diana smiled at Laura. "Yeah, I'm anxious to get started in college. But, if our intelligence were a baseball team, I would be the bat girl, and you would be the pitcher." Boswell sniggered while the two women hugged.

Laura got up and warmed up their coffee, then rummaged in the refrigerator for some cinnamon rolls. After popping them into the microwave for a few seconds, she put them on the table along with plates, forks and paper napkins. Anticipating Helen's comment, she said, "You've missed quite a few meals, and you certainly don't have any extra weight on you. Jeff says that your heart is perfect, so dig in."

Boswell laughed and took one. "Everybody else around here seems to think he is God's gift to women, I guess I had better start believing everything he says too," she joked.

A look passed between Diana and Laura that instantly sobered Boswell. I would give anything to know what those two just agreed on, Boswell thought to herself. This guy is married, or something, to six beautiful women — four of them teenagers — and they all love him so much you can feel it when he comes into the room.

"Okay, sorry. That was in poor taste at best. You people have done an awful lot for me. I know I had a heart attack — a bad one. I kept waking up with that blue light shining on me. I first though I was in an operating room. The whole experience just seems visceral.

"I was so excited about my new job. The girls are fabulous. I've always wanted to teach a small class of truly gifted students. Unfortunately, that hasn't been the case with the county's 'gifted' classes.

"I got a lot of things done that I needed to accomplish for our new school, plus I got in touch with a friend at the state level who said he would walk the paperwork through.

"The real estate agent said she had someone looking for a condo to rent. She seemed enthusiastic about the chances of them renting my place. My day went so well, that I went to bed early, then got up early, drove up here, and just burst in here with my mind on all the exciting things that I was going to do during the day. Then I saw the rings, not to mention the looks on everyone's faces. Everything just fell into place.

"Martha, John and I used to have a love like that," she quietly said. "I guess I made an absolute idiot out of myself for breaking down the way I did."

"You certainly did not," Laura denied. "I suspect we were the catalyst that started the reaction that was going to come about some time or other, probably sooner rather than later."

"Well, anyway, Doctor Adams and his wife have taken me out to eat a couple of times. They were worried about me. He cautioned me to not try to keep all the hurt inside me, but at the time I wasn't sure what he meant. I just felt numb, as if I were an observer in my own body. When I saw, and began to realize what you people have, I felt my loss as if it had just happened. It was as if they had just died; I felt like my world had ended. All I could see was John lying in that casket. When I tried to get my mind off him, I saw Martha in hers, remembered their voices as they kissed me, said for me to be careful and that they would see me later that day. But I never saw them alive again — and I never will," she finished as tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.

Helen dabbed at her face with her napkin while Diana and Laura hastily got up and hugged her. "Easy girl," Laura gently admonished.

"Oh, I'm not going to do that again," Helen managed, fighting to not sob. "Besides," she tried to joke, though her voice broke, "you said my heart was fine."

Helen's face took on a look of contemplation as the two women eventually returned to their seats. Trying to get her mind off her loss, she tried to change the subject. "Diana, you mentioned your youth, saying you had 'pushed' your husband about it. That... whatever it is that he used on me, is the reason you look so young, isn't it?"

Diana sighed, "I really don't know. I didn't even know he had the 'healer, ' as he called it, until he got it when you were dy... uh, very sick," she finished a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep doing that. It's got to be hard to hear someone saying that about you."

"You're certain that I was dying, aren't you?"

Both just looked at her and nodded.

Boswell sighed and gave a sardonic smile. "Do you suppose I'm suddenly going to become young again?"

They just looked at her.

"Di. Remember your ankle? You were talking about that the other day. Could Jeff have used the healer then? Now that I think about it, that's about the time that I noticed that you were really looking good. If he used the healer to treat your ankle, maybe it healed other things, too. Isn't ageing really the inability of our cells to perfectly reproduce? Maybe yours now do." Smiling at the astonished Diana, Laura kidded, "Better be careful. If you get stopped for speeding, the cop is liable to wonder whose picture that is on your driver's license."

"Oh crap." Diana responded. "I know you're kidding, but I haven't gotten my Colorado license yet. And I sure don't look like that picture on my Georgia license anymore."

Helen and Laura laughed at her expense. "Most women would gladly accept those problems," Helen observed. "Myself included."

When Diana didn't look convinced, Helen laughed, "Just carry your birth certificate, and thank them if they say you don't look like your picture."

"Tell them your plastic surgeon would appreciate the compliment," Laura quipped.

They all laughed, then Diana sobered. "Helen. We've all been under a lot of stress since you noticed our rings." She chuckled a little at her own statement. "We had at first, very logically decided that our teacher would use the front entrance, ride the elevator to the second floor, and be tactfully informed that our personal living space was on the first floor. Oh, we had it all planned out. Then we met you and everything changed — changed more than we intended. Oh, don't take that to mean anything more than I just said. We've overjoyed with our new teacher, and friend, I hope."

Helen interrupted with, "You saved my life. I certainly hope I'm your friend, and I'm sure we'll all become much closer as time goes on. Besides," she grinned, "that thing sure beats my state insurance plan. It would be stupidity in the extreme to cause you people problems — I might break my ankle, or get cancer."

Everyone chuckled. "Well, I hope those things don't happen to you, joke or not, and I certainly hope our friendship grows, but we have no choice but to trust you. If word got out about the healer, there's no telling what would happen. I'm scared to even think what Jeff's reaction would be — not to say anything about our relationships. Our daughter, as you well know, is wearing one of these," she said holding her hand up, showing the gold band.

"Diana, you're worrying needlessly. Incest isn't nearly as rare as some people think. I've been certain of it many times in my career. Most of the time it is between brother and sister — at least I think that's right — but father and daughter become involved from time to time as well. It's something that is hard to prove, even if you know it is true. And who is going to complain. Certainly not me! Arlene is the epitome of a well adjusted, vibrant young woman.

"And as far as the multiple wives are concerned, to be gross — been there, done that." Her eyes instantly misted as she said, "I wish I still could," obviously referring to John and Martha.

Laura looked at Diana for a second. "Helen we've got enough to talk about to keep us going for a long time, but you have been in bed for the better part of three days. I know you must still be weak. Would you like to lie down for a while, maybe take a nap?"

"A little later, perhaps, but I'm okay for now. I guess what I really need to do is take a little walk, at least get up and move around some. I'm actually feeling quite good, just still a little weak. I would like to talk to... your husband. I need to properly thank him for what he has done for me."

As she spoke, they had all gotten up. Helen fiercely hugged each woman and thanked them for what they had done.

Laura looked at Helen with a teasing grin on her face. "Well now, I don't know whether we can let you properly thank our husband or not. Maybe a big hug and a 'thank you' would be okay, though."

When Helen caught on and started to blush, Diana added a little more fuel. "Around here," she quipped, "a real thank you is at least a blowjob, and a 'proper' thank you... well, that goes way beyond."

"I'll, uh, just stick with the hug," Helen stammered, in spit of herself.

"Let's go see Jeff," Diana said, still laughing.

When they turned left and walked past the living room, Helen looked puzzled. "Did he tell you where he would be?" she asked. Nothing had been said about where Jeff was, but both women were purposely headed down the hall.

"Oh, he's in the..." Diana started, then she and Laura said in unison, "weight room."

"To try to answer your question, no he didn't tell us where he was going to be. We just know." When Helen stared at her, Laura again glanced at Diana, then continued, "We don't always know exactly where he is, but we can always point in the direction he is. Right now, I know that he's not on this floor, but in that direction," she said, pointing. "That would have to be the weight room."

"Is this because of that machine?" Helen asked as they again started moving down the hall.

Diana glanced at Helen, "I don't think so. Arlene and I have been able to do it for years, much to my husband's consternation at times. But since we moved out here, everyone has learned to do it. When you were first... sick, we had him call, or had someone call for him, to tell the sitters the extension where he would be, but that was because we wanted to be able to get him on the intercom instantly in case you went bad. If we want to go where he is, we just go there, just like we're doing right now," she finished, holding the stairway door open for Doctor Boswell.

Boswell shook her head. "If so much hadn't already happened, I would think that you were trying to trick me for some reason. Maybe just playing a practical joke, but scary as the thought is, I'm beginning to believe you. If you don't mind, we'll test it sometime. After all, I am a teacher and a scientist — at least on paper," she joked."

"So long as the information never leaves these walls," Diana said, emphatically.

A couple of minutes later, they walked into the weight room. Jeff was doing presses, his body glistening with sweat. He was wearing a tight tee-shirt, and speedos that left little to the imagination. Helen, having seen it in the flesh, knew the bulge wasn't a rolled up sock. Ann and Jennie were spotting for him. As he finished his set, they helped guide the bar back into its cradle.

As the women walked closer, Jennie handed Jeff a towel as he stood. He wiped his face as Ann and Jennie wiped his back and legs. Both girls were obviously braless and their nipples were hard little knobs poking against the front of their tight workout tops.

Then it hit Boswell — the smell of man sweat and something else. Oh my. I felt my nipples pop. I know he's going to see them, even though I have a bra on.

Jeff wiped his neck as he straighten up. "Well Doctor, you certainly look a lot better."

I saw his eyes go to my nipples for a second, then he dropped an entendre — or was it?

Mentally shaking herself: "Thanks, uh, Jeff. Thanks for everything," she said, determined to hug him. She opened her arms and hugged the protesting male — a real frontal, full hug.

"Helen, I'm covered with sweat, I, uh," then he gave up and hugged her back.

She had not touched a man, other than to shake hands, a rare event, since her husband died. Jeff's scent and his hard, pumped muscles almost overwhelmed her. "Thank you for saving my life. Your wives told me how hard it was on you, and I am so sorry for that."

Jeff didn't say anything, just continued the hug. After awhile, she pushed back from him, her face almost crimson. I don't think it has ever been proven that people put out pheromones like animals do. But proof or not, I now know he does.

Jeff was the first man she had sexually responded to since her husband died. Somehow, she felt like she was cheating on John, that her body was defying her. Turning to Diana, Boswell forced her voice to be calm. "I think I'll take you up on that nap now."

Jeff raised an eyebrow to Diana where Helen could not see.

As Helen, Diana and Laura left, Laura turned back for a second and mouthed "Alpha Male," grinned, then turned back to continue on with the other two women.

Jeff seemed perplexed, but lost his train of thought as Jennie jerked his speedos down to his ankles and knelt in front of him.

-------

The Escalade was raised on a lift and Jeff was standing under it. As he put the oil plug back in and tightened it, Boswell said, a tone of amusement in her voice, "There seems to be something wrong with this picture — the owner of a Cadillac changing his own oil."

Jeff put the wrench back in the toolbox, wiped the oil from his hands and pushed the large catch pan back against the wall of the garage. Releasing the safety and making sure Helen knew what he was about to do, he hit the button to lower the vehicle. The electric lift whined as it slowly set the SUV back on the floor.

With the Escalade down, Jeff walked around to her. "Yeah, I guess it does appear a bit dumb. But, hey, I had no choice but to change my own oil for so many years — we had to save every dime we could. I guess it just got to be a habit. Oh, I don't mean saving the money, not now, but it just seems right for me to do this myself. Besides, it isn't as if there is a quick oil change a couple of blocks away," he finished, grinning at her.

"Laura said to tell you that dinner would be ready in ten minutes. I had told her I was going for a short walk, and she said I would find you in the garage.

"So are you testing their built-in Jeff finder?" he teased.

"So they told you about what I said, huh? Well, I would like to test that, but I would certainly want more controlled conditions."

Jeff laughed. "I should hope so, because I told her I would be in the garage changing the oil."

They both chuckled as Jeff raised the hood, and a couple of minutes later, started pouring the oil in. "What kind of vehicle do you want Doctor"

"You're being very formal Mr. Matthews. Has something changed that I should know about?"

Jeff glanced at her. "Uh, sorry, Helen. But seriously, have you thought about it?"

"Jeff, I'm not used to a lot. A principal doesn't make that much, and I put the insurance money in the savings account for a nest egg. My car will do just fine. Another vehicle really isn't necessary..."

"What about a Lincoln Navigator, just to be different?" he teased.

"Jeff that would cost even more than your Expedition."

"Well, I guess we could buy another Escalade. It seats eight in a squeeze, and so does the Expedition. When you carry those girls out, I would have you in a tank if I could. Barring that, I want the biggest, safest land barge I can get for you. I was kidding about the Escalade, but maybe that's really the way to go. I never heard of a school that didn't have field trips. Sure, you will be using the vehicle mostly for yourself, or by yourself, but it's also going to be used to carry some very precious cargo from time to time." He hesitated for a second, "Uh, I don't mean to imply that the driver isn't precious also," he grinned. "But you know what I mean."

Putting the oil filler cap back on and checking the oil level, Jeff then slammed the hood, walked around and started the car. He let it run for a few minutes, then knelt down to look underneath to make sure there weren't any oil leaks.

When he turned the car off, Helen, without thinking, took his arm as they started toward the house. "So what color is my Escalade going to be?" she asked, a smile cracking her face.

"Any damn color you want it to be — except pink. I hate pink cars."

-------

Late that afternoon Henson paged Jeff on the intercom asking to meet in the suite. Jeff, asked him to meet him in the kitchen, instead. When Henson knocked on the door, Jeff yelled for him to come on in. Henson stuck his head in and said, "Your suite is ready for a walk-through inspection."

Jeff motioned for him to come in. "Sit," Jeff said. "Coffee?"

"No thanks. I really don't have time. We've got to get the sound and dust barrier moved upstairs. The guys are doing the last of the cleanup now. As soon as you okay the job, we'll move the furniture back."

"Okay, I've just okayed the job. Now sit down and have some coffee. We've got fresh, home-baked doughnuts that I haven't tried yet. Now is as good a time as any."

Henson sat quietly while Jeff got coffee and a plate of doughnuts. "Are you trying to tell me something Mr. Matthews?"

"Yes," Jeff said, stopping to look Henson in the eye. "I acted like a prick yesterday morning. You didn't ask for a final walk-through when you finished the lab. You just told me you were done. Our business dealings aren't nearly over. There's still the school rooms, the indoor range, and the outdoor range, just to name a few. Plus another thing that I've been thinking about."

"Let me go get my crew moving the furniture back, and I'll be right back and check out those doughnuts with you."

A few minutes later, Henson was back, a much more relaxed man. Jeff had made out the check while he was gone. As Henson seated himself, Jeff slid the check over to him. The contractor looked at it, then glanced up at Jeff with a question on his face.

Jeff took an envelope out of his briefcase and handed the bonus to Henson. "I though cash might be a little more suitable for the bonus," Jeff said, deadpan.

"Mr. Matthews, I..."

"I don't know who 'Mr. Matthews' is. My name is Jeff. I caught a whole load of stress the last couple of days. I had about half my mind on our conversation, and unintentionally said a very stupid thing. Again, I apologize. I don't want you to be trying to second guess every little thing you do. I don't micromanage. I hate it when someone does it to me, and I'm not going to do it to you. I need your expertise. I don't need you looking over your shoulder." Jeff extended his hand and they shook.

As Henson firmly shook Jeff's hand, "Thanks, uh, Jeff. You won't regret it. And call me Dave."

"The doughnuts don't look pretty, because we don't have the machine to make them perfectly round. One of our neighbors was nice enough to give us the recipe, after we tasted some of her doughnuts."

They both took a bite at the same time. "Damn," they said in unison.

"Uh, could... ?" Henson said.

"Yeah," Jeff said, "I'll get Diana to print out a copy of the recipe for your wife."

Sheepishly, Henson said, "Thanks."

"We'll be swapping recipes, next, if we're not careful," Jeff said, fighting not to laugh.

"I never tasted a doughnut that even came close to tasting this good," Henson admitted, eyeing the plate.

Jeff got up and put a half dozen in a bag. "Here," Jeff said, grinning. "Two just makes you hungry with these things."

Henson grinned his thanks.

"Now," Jeff said, "How many in your crew?"

Henson paused to swallow. Hesitating a second, "Well, seven today, since my finish carpenter isn't here."

"That's what I thought." Jeff handed him a thinner envelope. "There is eight, one hundred dollars bills in that. How about telling your crew that I appreciate their good work. And please tell your finish carpenter and his wife, congratulations from the Matthews. I'm sure my wife will be getting the baby a gift. Boy or girl?"

"Uh, boy. Seven pounds six ounces, if I remember correctly." Henson seemed proud of himself for remembering the weight, but had forgotten to ask for the baby's name when he had talked to the carpenter last night. Evie (Henson's wife) had grumped at him for that. Mentally shrugging, he continued, "I will tell the crew, and pass on your congratulations to my carpenter, but the extra envelope isn't necessary, Jeff. I was going to share my bonus with them."

Jeff just smiled and changed the subject. "Tomorrow is Saturday. Are you planning on starting on the school rooms tomorrow?"

"Well, yeah. I am. We could get some of the demolition done."

"Your crew has worked straight through for the lab and the suite, haven't they?"

"If you're asking if we need a day off, the answer is a resounding, yes," Henson said, picking up another doughnut.

Grinning, Jeff answered, "Why don't you throw that sound barrier in the second floor hallway to get it out of our way, put the furniture back, and get the hell out of my house until Monday."

Henson quickly finished his third doughnut, picked up his sack, and pay, grinned at Jeff, and said, "You must be talking to a ghost, because I'm gone."

A few minutes later as Jeff walked out into the hallway, he could hear the contractor, laughter in his voice, yelling for someone to help him move the sound barrier to the second floor so they could knock off for the weekend.

A little later, on the security camera, they all watched the last of the contractor's vehicles leave. "Shall we go see what we've got," Jeff asked, grinning.

As they left the kitchen, Helen started to lag back, obviously undecided if she were invited to see the family's new suite. Grabbing her arm, Diana said, "You know all about us. We've nothing to hide from you. Come and enjoy this with us."

"Are you sure? I don't mean to intrude. I could be bringing in some of the things I packed, and putting them into my apartment."

"Nonsense. We'll all help with that and make it an easy thing. You couldn't have brought that much."

"Don't count on it. I packed your Expedition with everything I could get in it."

Diana hugged her. "I'm just teasing you, Helen. We brought everything in for you the second day you were in bed. The girls even unpacked your clothes and hung them up, or put them in drawers. Of course," she laughed, "it may take awhile for you to find everything."

"Mother," Arlene said, rolling her eyes, "we'll show her where we put her stuff."

"You people didn't have to do all that. I don't know what to say, other than thank you all very much."

"Does that mean we all get an 'A?'" Jennie teased.

A couple of minutes later they walked into the redone, much larger suite. The king-size bed looked small and out of place in the large bedroom.

"Wow," Melissa exclaimed, "come look at the shower. There's enough room in here for everybody. Boy, are we going to have fun."

"Look at the mirrored wall, and the sinks," Arlene said, standing in the vanity area. "We've each got one and some left over," she exclaimed, "and look at the size of this closet. You could get lost in here," she said as she pushed the closet door open.

Jennie and Melissa teased each other about the bidets, an acted like they were in the Alps calling and listening for an echo in the giant closet.

"The bathroom has a urinal Helen said," getting into the mood of things. "And you can see into the shower while standing at the urinal." She looked at Jeff, a big grin on her face. "Now why might that be?" she teasingly mused.

"Well," Jeff said, trying not to blush, "all the women have facilities, even bidets. And besides, I won't get fussed at for leaving the lid up."

Helen looked at him. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Jeff just grinned at her.

Diana stood gazing at their old bed. "Too bad they wouldn't deliver our new bed until Monday. I guess I should have called earlier, but we weren't certain until late that they would finish today."

Jeff motioned to the top of a wall. "They actually didn't finish. It will be a couple of weeks before their finish carpenter is back to work."

"Yeah, I know, but the place looks great, anyway." Diana hugged her husband. "We've got to do something until the big bed gets delivered, though. What about bringing another bed in and putting it beside this one?"

Jeff stood thinking for a moment. "If we do that, because of the bedframes, there will still be a about a six-inch crack between the mattresses. Better to just forget the frames and put both sets of box springs and mattresses on the floor. We won't have a headboard, but I've got some strapping that I can wrap all the way around both sets of box springs. That should keep them tightly together. Then just shove the mattresses together and make one big bed."

Arlene looked at her father. "Dad sleeps on the crack," she said, laughing.

Deadpan, Jeff looked at her. "Doesn't matter. I won't be on the bottom, anyway."

"Dadeee, you're embarrassing our teacher."

Helen laughed. "My face is red, but that's doesn't mean I disapprove."

Jeff looked at Diana. "What about sheets?"

Diana though for a minute. "We won't have fitted bottom sheets, but I can sew two top sheets together to make a big bottom sheet. We can just tuck it in as best we can. And, of course, two more to make the top sheet." Looking at Laura, she continued, "Why don't you get four king-sized sheets and meet me in the kitchen? I'll get my sewing machine. The big table would probably be our best work area." Both women hurried out.

"If one of you will help me get the mattress and springs off the bed, I'll break it down and get it out of here. If the rest of you could bring another king-size mattress and springs in, we'll see if we can make this happen," Jeff said.

Helen quickly spoke up, "I'll help you with the bed, Jeff."

"Are you sure you feel up to it?"

Helen stepped over to the bed and started pulling the sheet off. "For the last several hours, I have felt better and better. I don't believe I've ever felt this good in my life, at least, not in many years. The answer is a definite yes." She piled the sheets in a corner and grabbed hold of the mattress. "Are you going to help me, or do I have to do it by myself?" she teased.

The next couple of hours was a continued flurry of activity. The bed was disassembled, the other box springs and mattress brought in, and everything put together to make a giant bed. All their clothing was eventually moved into the suite, and everything was put up, rearranged, and rearranged again. When Jeff started hanging his clothes in one end of the closet, Diana told him his space was in the middle.

Ann kissed him hard for a second, took the hanging clothes out of his hands and put them on his rack.

"But this way, I'll..." He never finished as the women stared at him with sympathetic looks. Men were so slow to catch on. Oh, well. If I have to walk past them while we're getting dressed, I can cop a feel a lot more times. Which was, basically, why they put him in the middle, anyway.

As they walked down the hall, Diana turned to Doctor Boswell. "We put some food in the cabinets and freezer in your apartment when we carried your stuff in, but since we didn't know what you liked, we just put in an assortment. Why don't you just plan on eating with us, at least, until you can make a grocery run and fill in the things we missed. And with all that is going on, unless you just want privacy, please continue to eat with us. It seems to me that we're going to be together most of the time, anyway, at least for the next couple of weeks while we buy your school equipment, books, and other stuff to get the school going."

"My goodness, Diana. I never expected the food. I'll write you a check right now. How much was it?"

"Don't even go there," Laura laughed. "She did the same thing for me and wouldn't take a dime. Just tell her thanks and forget it. That's what I finally did."

Helen stopped. "I... I never dreamed I would be treated like this. Uh, thank you, Diana. And I'll thank Jeff at dinner. I seem to be saying thank you an awful lot lately, and it just seems so... inadequate."

"No big deal." Diana smiled at her, then turned toward the kitchen. "Let's get some hamburgers on. Our girls have been working like crazy, they're going to..." As she pushed the kitchen door open, the production line was in full swing.

Arlene looked up as she sat a platter of patties on the table. " Mother, get Daddy. We're ready to eat."

Diana thought for a second, then picked up the phone and punched the intercom button. Dialing the living room, she waited a moment, then said, "Soup's on Hon," and hung up.

As Jeff sat down at the head of the table, Laura put one of the big shakes in front of him. He looked up at Laura. "Oh crap. Are you sure?"

Arlene quipped, "We can all sit in the hot tub tomorrow, if we have to. And Mother bought a whole bunch of pus... uh, cream," she wound down, sheepishly looking at Doctor Boswell.

It took a second for Boswell to put everything together, but by then she had smelled the ginseng in the shake and certainly knew what Arlene had started to say. She giggled, then burst out laughing. Throughout the meal, she would occasionally glance at Jeff's shake and grin. She wasn't sure which of their faces was the reddest, but she suspected it was Jeff's.

After dinner, Ann escorted Jeff to take his shake-induced nap, while the other girls headed for the game room. Laura and Diana were going to clean up, since the girls cooked. Boswell pitched in. As Boswell loaded dishes into the dishwasher, Diana turned to her. "I forgot to mention it Helen, but I cautioned the girls to be careful of anything of yours that might be private when they put your stuff up. They told me that they didn't open your two small cases."

Helen stood trying to find something to say. She's telling me they expected to find a vibrator, and didn't want to embarrass me.

Laura winked at her. "We've found this great place on the internet that sells every kind of toy imaginable. Even with our Alpha Male around, we still play with our toys occasionally. Of course, he's our best toy," she finished, laughing.

"I think I need a cup of coffee after that," Boswell laughed, putting detergent in and closing the washer door. "Do you mind if I make a pot?"

Diana opened the coffee maker and took out the old filter and grounds. "If there isn't fresh coffee around here, then some needs to be made. This is your home. You don't have to ask anything."

"Thanks, Diana."

Boswell took the pot and rinsed it as Diana put in a new filter and measured out the coffee. Boswell started pouring the water in. "What's the story about the shake? I know there's has got to be one, I could smell the ginseng in it, and there were other smells that I couldn't identify. I imagine it's supposed to be some kind of aphrodisiac?"

"I found the recipe on the internet," Laura said as they sat down to wait on the coffee to brew.

"It makes him as horny as a billygoat," Diana said, grinning from ear to ear.

"The first thing it does," Laura chimed in, "is to put him out like a light. Of course that might just be because of the size of the shake overfilling his stomach. But in a couple of hours he'll wake up raring to go."

Boswell grinned. "If the recipe truly is an aphrodisiac," she mused, "maybe you should try selling those shakes. You might just make a fortune."

"Actually," Laura said, "we mostly just use them to tease him. When we exchanged our rings, he fucked us all unconscious, and we had forgotten to give him a shake."

Boswell got up to get the coffee while Diana and Laura got the cups. How can one man screw six women unconscious? They seriously think he is some kind of Alpha Male. They're making me so aroused I can hardly stand myself.

"Sorry," Diana said as they sat back down. "I guess we've spent so much of our time caring for you the last three days that we just think about you as part of the family. We weren't trying to make you uncomfortable."

Boswell sipped her coffee. "That's really good coffee." Glancing at the two women she continued, "You're not embarrassing me that badly. I just can't understand how..."

"How our husband can service six of us?" Diana said. Diana stirred in creamer and sweetener, looked up at Boswell. "Jeff has always had a stronger sex drive than I did, at least, until the last couple of months. I guess with all the sex going on, and the things that have happened, my sex drive has picked up a lot. I'm pretty sure that the 'healer', now that I know about it, probably gave Jeff some of his abilities, or at least enhanced them. But Laura thinks he truly is an Alpha Male and always has been. He's been a 'born leader', I guess you would call him, ever since I have known him. People have always followed him. I'm sure that he could have had most any female he wanted over the years, but until after the problem with Jack that we told you about, Jeff had never touched another woman — even then, it was at my instigation."

Laura looked at Boswell. "I haven't had that many men. But I know personally that Jeff is a fabulous lover. Certainly a thousand times better than any of those idiots that I ever went to bed with. I never really had an orgasm with a man until Jeff took me in that hotel room. Even then, Diana told him to do it, then told me what she had said to her husband. He was a perfect gentleman until my friend here welcomed me to the 'harem.'" Laughing, she said, "Well, he was still a gentleman. He just fucked my brains out. If they come any better than him, I would die. Uh... pun not intended."

Laura and Diana shared a look, then burst out laughing. Diana held her hand up and spread her index finger and thumb apart as if measuring something. "I still remember the look on his face when he was standing against that wall over there, insisting that it wasn't quite a half cup," she wheezed.

Boswell looked nonplused. Bracing herself, she just had to ask, "Do you mean that you actually measured, and he..."

"Yep," Laura gasped. "Half a measuring cup. And that was a half hour after the last time."

Before Helen could catch herself, she said, "But that's impossible, no man..."

Diana got up to replenish their coffee. "A couple of the old porn stars did it on film. One was even famous for it."

Boswell sighed. "I'm hearing more than I bargained for. I think I'm going up to my apartment, watch a little TV, then go to bed early." And wear out a couple of batteries,  she added to herself. Then aloud, "This has been a very eventful day for me."

Diana looked at Helen. "I'm sorry if we embarrassed you. We're just in a good mood because you're well, and we are back in our suite. Please forgive us if we have gone too far."

Hesitating, Helen smiled at her. "You haven't hurt my feelings, actually the opposite. I'm just missing my husband. If he were with me now, he would be busy tonight. I'll get out of here and let you people have some privacy." Turning as she got to the door, "Please tell Jeff that I said thank you for the food. See you in the morning."

"Early," Diana called after her. "Laura wants to go computer shopping for the school."

As soon as the kitchen door closed, Laura said, "Let's go see if Ann has managed to wake Jeff yet. We might get a head start initiating the new suite."

Laughing, arm in arm, they headed for the bedroom.



-------

Chapter 3

The next morning at four, Jeff's internal alarm woke him. Diana was lying with her head on his left shoulder, her leg thrown over his. Ann was snuggled similarly on his right side. Gently unwinding Diana, who appeared to be soundly sleeping, he then started to move Ann. In the dim light of the room, it took him a moment to realize her eyes were open.

"I need to get up for my run," he whispered in her ear.

Instead of moving away, she crawled onto his chest, her groin pushing against his morning hard-on. "Un uh, husband. I have a use for this before you go."

"But Baby, we..."

Ann lined the head of his cock with her entrance and pushed, forcing his disk into her tight tube. After several attempts, he was as deep as she could take him, his cock pushing hard against her uterus. Sitting up, she began an undulating motion that felt wonderful to him. Every now and then she would pull her hips back until his cock was almost out of her channel, then push back down, causing his dick to rub against her g-spot. After a few minutes, she got tired of slow and quiet, and went for fast and loud. That woke everybody up.

A little after six-thirty Doctor Boswell had just started the coffee maker going when the kitchen door opened and the girls filed through in animated conversation. Ann was saying: "Well, he made love to all of us last night, but he only came in every other one. When I woke up, he was nice and ready, and I decided to get my share. I was going to be quiet, but things just didn't work out that way..." Ann voice trailed off as she saw their teacher.

Diana was behind everybody else and didn't immediately see Boswell. "Nobody could sleep through that. You're almost as loud as Arlene. I don't think Jeff ever did get to pee."

"Oops!" Diana exclaimed when she saw Helen. Then laughing, "Ah, the heck with it, she's one of us. Good morning Helen."

When Helen responded, Diana nodded to Laura. "If you will take care of the steak, I'll get the eggs and potatoes. Melissa, how about starting the other coffee maker. Ann, get the juice and glasses. Arlene set the table. Jennie, why don't you get the sheets off the bed and into the washer — and leave Jeff alone, I think the poor man has lost five pounds since last night."

Everybody laughed, including Boswell, as Jennie made a moue and left, her ponytail swinging back and forth.

The production line kicked into gear. They were in a good mood, laughing, teasing and cutting up.

A little later, Boswell noticed all the women suddenly glance toward the door. A couple of seconds later, Jeff bumped it with his hand and walked through. That couldn't have been rehearsed. They knew he was going to be at that door, and they all knew it at exactly the same time. Then again, Diana was just starting to pour his cup of coffee, she looked up at the same time they all did, but I wonder if she knew a few seconds earlier. No matter. They all knew! And you certainly can't hear anyone walking in that hallway. How do they know?

Despite having just made love to all of them, as soon as he was seated and had taken a sip of coffee, he made time for each of them to sit in his lap, kiss and snuggle for a moment.

When things settled down a little, Jeff set his cup back on the table. "You're up early Helen."

"Yes, and I heard you were, too," she instantly responded.

Ann put a large platter of country-style potatoes on the table. "He certainly was."

Jeff desperately tried not to blush. I'm too damn old to blush. No one to blame but me. I set myself up for that one, but Boswell sure didn't hesitate. Maybe she will fit in around here.

Laura put his steak down. "Poor baby. Are they picking on you again?" she teased.

Jeff doused his steak liberally with sauce. "Yeah, I sometimes lead a hard life." He could see Boswell trying to hold back a grin.

Boswell raked a pile of potatoes onto her plate, and passed the platter on. "I've been ravenous since I woke up yesterday. I was back in here in the middle of the night raiding the refrigerator. I think I ate more yesterday than I usually do in a week."

"Well, you missed several meals while you were asleep. Also, you body needs to resupply the energy it used while you were healing. I was the same way after I..." Jeff suddenly stopped. After a couple of seconds, he cut another piece of steak and went on eating, saying nothing, his face expressionless.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a little while, and then everyone started talking at the same time. Boswell glanced at Diana, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

Helen, remembering what Diana and Laura told her about Jeff's conditioning, caught Laura's eye, changing the subject. "What kind of computers are we going to get today?" she asked, although she and Laura had already had a discussion about the systems.

Laura took a sip of coffee. "I called a couple of people I used to work with in Atlanta. One of them has a friend that is an IT manager for a fairly large company in Denver. So to make a long story short, I got in touch with this guy, and he gave me the name of two companies that he recommends that build computer systems. I had rather stay away from the big name, preassembled systems. Too often you buy a supposedly great system, only to later discover that they have used cheap no name components. Then when you call customer service to complain, you wind up talking, if you can call it that, with someone in India who can't understand what you are talking about, or refuses to do so, or else they promise you the moon, but you never get anything. When you call back, of course, you can't talk to that same person again, but get someone different, and the merry-go-round starts all over. It will cost a little more up front this way, but I can get the motherboards, processors, and other internal parts that I know will produce a good system.

"What I will guarantee, Helen, is that you will be very pleased. Jeff has told me to get top of the line systems, and I'm going to have a ball with his money." She winked at Jeff as she finished.

"It's your money too, Love. We're all married now."

Laura smiled at him. "Then we're going to spend a lot of our money today," she teased.

Jeff sat thinking, a bite of steak just speared with his fork. "Seven systems will take up a lot of room; we'll take the truck and the Escalade. I bought a canvas cover while we were at Wal-Mart the other day, plus some tie downs. I've also got some twine that I picked up out of the yard. The construction crew had used it while bringing up some of their materials. We'll stack the pickup as best we can, and put the cover over the computers. Hopefully there will be enough room in the Escalade for the rest. If not, two trips, or have the rest delivered. But I really think everything will go in the truck."

"Are you sure they will build them today? Helen asked."

Laura grinned at Helen. "For seven systems, and all the network stuff, they will build them today, particularly for a school. If they won't, we'll go to the other place. It really doesn't take long to put a system together, especially for someone who does it all the time."

-------

A little later, Jeff had unhooked from the snowplow and taken the salt spreader off the new truck. Helen walked up to Jeff. "Who is riding with whom?"

"I haven't a clue. They always figure that out, and I have no idea what their system is."

Ann and Jennie climbed into the rear seat of the truck, nonchalantly chatting with each other.

"Well," Jeff said, chuckling as he helped Boswell into the high seat. "I guess now we know."

As they started off, following the Escalade, Boswell turned to the girls. "How did you decide who rode where?"

Alternating, they said:

"We just"

"decided to"

"ride with"

Then in unison, "our husband."

Laughing, Boswell asked, "Do you do that much?"

Before the girls could answer, Jeff said, "All the time, any two of them. Sometimes, all of them."

Jennie winked at Helen as she turned back toward Jeff.

Helen caught herself fighting a giggle. "Jeff, I think I've laughed, giggled, been amazed, and generally had more fun since I met your family than I have for the last year, maybe longer. Of course, I nearly died,  also."

"Well, we'll have to make sure that doesn't happen again. But we've enjoyed your being with us, and hope you will stay for a long, long time."

Before Helen could comment further, they rounded the first curve below the house and she got a beautiful view of the abyss. The guardrail along the side of the driveway didn't look nearly tall enough to her. Why couldn't they live on a hill somewhere instead of a mountain? I'm not going to drive down this thing when it snows. I'm not going to ride down this thing when it snows.

She felt them turn onto the county road a few minutes later, and opened her eyes. She could see the smirk on Jeff's face.

"I don't like heights," she said. "I don't like heights. But I love that hotel you call a house. And once you get up that so-called driveway that has been cut out of the side of that vertical cliff, the property is absolutely breathtaking."

"It didn't take us long to fall in love with the place. And the cliff isn't quite vertical," he teased.

Jeff reached over and took a small portable radio out of a holder on the dash. "We mail-ordered these things a few days ago, and while we have played with them a little around the house, we haven't tried them in the vehicles yet. The cell phones don't work much in the mountains, as I'm sure you're aware, and these radios are supposed to have a range of five miles. It's frustrating when you can see the person in the other vehicle, but you can't talk to them on the cell."

Winking at Helen, he affected a voice something like a disk jockey on steroids, "Unit one to unit two."

After a few seconds Laura answered, laughing, "Go ahead unit one."

Jeff dropped the disk jockey voice. "Hey, these things sound pretty good."

Diana came back. "Hey Big Boy, wanna go out tonight?"

"You bet, Baby. Just to remind you, Helen and I are going to stop by the bank. I talked with the branch manager yesterday. He's supposed to have another account set up and ready for Helen to sign. Also he's ready for Laura's signature for our accounts. We'll meet you at the computer place as soon as we get out of the bank."

Laura came back on and agreed.

"I assume this is the school account you're talking about?" Helen asked.

"Yeah, I had rather write a check on the school account, to simplify the accounting. The school name won't be on the checks yet, but the computer dealer should be able to verify that the check is good, even with the starter checks. Heck, the local grocery store does that. Otherwise, we'll just use a debit card on our account, or a credit card, until the school checks are printed, and you get your cards and checks."

Jeff glanced at Helen as he slowed for a curve nearing the bottom of the mountain. "Does it bother you that I asked Laura to choose the systems? I just wanted the best, but I realize that you might not see it that way."

"Well, I guess it did, a little, when you first mentioned it. I'm certainly not computer illiterate, and I have lusted after a really nice computer or two for my classes — we always had to get by on outdated systems that were barely more than junk. But when you started talking about wanting everything top of the line, I saw your point. Also, Laura talked with me and got my input on what I wanted. After she upgraded everything I mentioned, I decided that I would be foolish to do anything other than sit back and watch. I will need software though. And I do have some strong opinions on that."

"Well, I think I can appease your wounded ego a little," he laughed. "Seriously, we'll stop by the computer place and see how things are going, after we get out of the bank. Then I'm going to take you to one of the big computer outlets, and let you loose in the software department. I expect you to spend some major money there. No 'get by' attitude; buy everything you can think of that you might need. If they don't have it, we'll order it off the net. I would like for all my wives to be at least functional with all of the major software on the market."

"Wow. Do you realize you just said?" Helen asked, looking hard at Jeff.

Melissa waved at them from the backseat of the Escalade. Jeff and Helen waved back. Jeff glanced in the mirror and noted that Ann and Jennie had put on earphones and were watching a movie on the DVD. Feeling confident that the girls couldn't hear him, he continued. "Yes, I do. When Diana suggested that I hire Laura for my assistant, I was a bit dubious. But the more I though about it, the more I realized that there was no rush. She doesn't have some of the skills that I need right now, but if she and Diana get back into school, well, one day soon she — they — will have those skills. And it doesn't have to stop there. The girls can have a technical education as well. They are all enthusiastic about it now. I don't know whether they will change their minds later or not, but I'm certainly going to give them every chance I can. And yeah, I know how much even one copy of the best CAD program costs, let alone license for seven — plus all the other software. But let's do it right."

"I think I've died and gone to Heaven," Helen sighed.

"Hey, Baby, you ain't seen nothin' yet," he teased in his best hillbilly accent. "We're going to the office supply place Tuesday — the bed is going to be delivered Monday. You are going to have a bigger, better desk than any college dean I have ever seen. And your students aren't going to be so very far behind you. We've got plenty of room — we might as well use some of it. By the way, the contractor and I doubled your classroom and office size."

"Jeff, I... don't even know what to say. This is a teacher's dream. That in itself is an understatement. But I don't need all this money spent on me. Buy the desks for the girls, but I don't need anything extravagant."

Jeff winked at Boswell as he followed Diana onto the state road. "Just think, a few weeks from now, you can invite Doctor Adams to drop by and check out your new school. I'll bet there are some other people you would like to show off to as well. You can mention the advanced classes the girls are in, and maybe show some of your software. With my having turned Laura loose in the candy store, so to speak, you can bet your system will be the envy of any IT manager who hears of it.

"I'm sure you've already worked on classes for the girls. Most of what you will be teaching them will be up to you and your judgement, of course. But obviously, I hope for a push toward the technical side."

Helen glanced in the back. "I know what you're hinting at, Jeff. From just being around the girls, I'm totally amazed that Ann and Arlene are still in high school. The other two are a year older, and the same goes for them. Surely they could have tested out by now. Someone in their old school system wasn't doing their job. The first thing I'm going to do is give all of them a battery of tests to see just where they are. I've already arranged to have their records faxed, but I suspect that they were bored with spoon-fed classes, and were just coasting. From what I've gathered from them, they all did their homework in class, and seldom brought any home."

A frown crossed Jeff's face. "Yeah. I've had to go to the school several times over the years, and I know Diana has several other times while I was traveling. Every time, it was a teacher complaining that Arlene didn't pay any attention in class. One of the teachers was furious that Arlene was doing homework from another class in her class. I can see the teacher's point, but Arlene made a hundred on every test in the lady's class. The teacher threatened to give Arlene an 'F' anyway, if she didn't, essentially, sit and look at her. I had to go to the principal on that one. Arlene said the teacher taught straight out of the book, and she had 'already read the book.' The principal backed the teacher until I threatened to call my lawyer. The teacher didn't even pretend to be civil to her the rest of the year."

Boswell sighed. "Unfortunately, that sort of thing happens all too often. And what is even worse, is that gifted students sometimes tire of the plodding pace, and refuse to do anything. More than one has flunked out of high school, taken the GED and then excelled in college. I guess teaching is just like any other field. There are a few really good teachers, a few really bad teachers, and a whole lot in between.

"I won't force the girls, at least not past a reasonable point, but I will challenge them. With the small class, I will be able to give help when it is needed, and direct them when that's needed. A teacher with twenty or thirty students in a class just doesn't have the time to do that. With a truly gifted student, that direction might well be at a tangent to their regular study materials. Unless I've truly misjudged, the girls are going to learn more in the next year than they have learned in several years, because they are going to have the opportunity to do so."

Jeff picked up the radio again. "Hey, Sweet Thing, I haven't had any coffee for at least thirty minutes," he joked. "How about stopping at the diner and getting a cup to go?"

There was a click, then a chorus of "Which Sweet Thing?"

Boswell looked over at Jeff. "That's a great way to get into trouble."

"Oh, well. I was always pretty good at sticking my foot in my mouth."

When Diana turned into the diner lot, Jeff parked beside her and cut the switch. "Hey," Jennie said as the power to the DVD shut down and she and Ann pulled their earphones off. "He had just dropped his pants."

Helen looked startled for a second, then her years of teaching kicked in. With a smirk on her face, "Maybe I need to confiscate your DVD and watch it tonight myself."

Both girls giggled and ran to catch up with the others, Jeff said, "You know they were just jerking your chain, there's nothing..."

"Jeff, I know. Remember I've been around teenagers for twenty-five years. Besides, if they weren't kidding, the movie might just be going back to my apartment tonight," she said, laughing and taking Jeff's arm as they walked toward the entrance.

Jeff couldn't decide whether Boswell was kidding of not.

A few minutes later, as they started to get back into the vehicles, Diana quipped, "Don't burn anything with that, Big Boy," referring to Jeff's large cup of coffee in the go-cup.

Jeff laughed, set the cup down, and helped Helen into the truck.

Jeff picked his cup up and got in, his long legs making the step up look easy, "What was that about?" Helen asked as the girls piled in and started the DVD.

Jeff backed out of the parking space, balancing the cup precariously as he eased the selector into drive.

"Here, let me hold that until you get back on the highway."

A few moments later, the truck was back up to speed. Jeff retrieved his coffee and took a sip. "Diana was referring to a coffee bath I took a few years ago. We had pulled through a Burger King takeout window. I got a large Styrofoam cup of coffee with a lid on it. I was going to pull over in the parking lot and put some creamer in the coffee, so I just set the cup between my legs. Someone came flying past and I had to stop hard. I felt a little wet in my lap, and I guess I thought the cup was going to turn over or something, so I unconsciously, squeezed a little harder with my legs. This squeezed more coffee out of the top of the cup. By the time I could get past the idiot that had just about run over us, I had a lap full — well, a groin full — of some of the hottest coffee on the face of this earth. Well, it certainly felt like it was. Of course, Diana's rolling in the floorboard didn't add a thing to the situation, as far as I was concerned. I swear, I can't get into a car with a cup of coffee that I don't remember that Burger King lot. I guess my pulling my pants down right there to look, might have had something to do with Diana's laughing, though."

"My shorts were soaked, and I was already bright red, like a bad sunburn. Then I had to try to figure out how to get my wet shorts off and my pants back on without going to jail. Diana took her jacket off and put it across my lap while I did a striptease in the driver's seat."

Helen was trying, none too successfully, not to laugh. "Did it peel?" she said, almost choking.

Indignantly. "Yes, it did. And she took pictures."

"I can just see that. Oh, I don't mean the peeling. I know the coffee had to hurt. But you squeezing the cup with your legs to keep it from falling over, which just squeezed out more coffee... Oh, my," she said, almost spilling her own coffee as she laughed. "Can I see the pictures?"

"No."

"Did you wear it in a sling, then too?" Helen managed to gasp out, finally setting her cup in the holder.

"You're enjoying this entirely too much."

"Well, did you?"

"No!" After a moment, "But I thought about it."

-------

The branch manager saw them come in, and immediately came over to shake Jeff's hand. After Jeff introduced Laura and Doctor Boswell, they were ushered into Perkins' office.

"Could I get you a cup of coffee?" Perkins asked, trying to conceal that he was checking out the women.

Jeff leaned back and crossed his legs. "No thanks, we're on the way to buy the computer systems for the school, as I told you in our phone conversation. Diana, Laura, and the others will go to the computer place, while Doctor Boswell and I finish with the school business here. We need to get Laura's signature so her name can be put on our personal account, then she will be on her way."

Perkins pushed paperwork to their side of his desk and offered a pen. "I have everything ready, per your instructions, Mr. Matthews. You just need to sign right here Ma'am, by the 'X.'"

Laura signed, smiled at Jeff, and was gone.

Sitting up the school account was just as easy. A few minutes later, Jeff again helped Boswell into the high seat. "Jeff, I not helpless; I can do this myself. I'm over my heart attack, but of course you almost gave me another one when you told him how much to transfer into the school account."

Jeff didn't even comment on the amount. He opened the driver's door, climbed in and started the truck. "About helping you: Don't get all sexist on me," he teased. "Number one: I was raised to open doors for females, and I'm not about to change now. It's a sign of respect, not sexism. Number two: I couldn't get into this truck with a tight skirt and high heels on. Uh..."

"Now that, I would really like to see," Helen said, smirking.

Jeff grinned, sheepishly. "Well, you know what I mean."

After Jeff got back into traffic, Helen remarked. "I've had a number of bank transactions over the years, but I've never been treated like that."

"The first time I met him he was a bit officious, shall we say. I asked him to check my savings and checking account balances, and suddenly he became a new person. What aggravates me is that he could treat everyone that way, and it would cost him nothing, it might even net him some extra business. But at least he is pretty efficient, even if he is obsequious because of my money. Actually I had rather conduct my business with his assistant. She seems to know more about what's going on than he does, and she certainly is prettier."

Boswell looked over at Jeff. "I'm surprised that you could notice any other female with that beautiful harem you have."

Jeff laughed. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't stray for the world. I'm not a fool. I just don't like the guy. And his assistant does know more than he does. I think that if I had a few hundred dollars in the bank, instead of a few million, Perkins would treat me like..."

"Yes," Boswell said, "I would suspect that."

When they walked into the computer store and found Laura, the manager was just printing out the "bid." Jeff introduced himself and Doctor Boswell while Laura looked over the sheet she had been handed. It didn't take Jeff's years of friendship with Laura to know that she was not pleased. "Jeff, would you take everyone up front for a few minutes. Mr. Gosman and I need to have a little talk."

"Jeff hurriedly ushered everybody out. As the door was closing, Jeff heard Laura say, "What in the fuck do you think..." before the door closed and cut off her voice.

When Laura walked back up front with a new "bid," she told Jeff. "Sam told me this guy would try to charge the street price, but gave me a little insight on how to handle him. What he was trying to charge was ridiculous. I can buy all of the components from reputable companies on the net for far less than he was charging for them. And I know he can get them for a whole lot less, than I can — never mind the discount for the school or for buying seven systems. Then he started giving me that crap about having them ready on Wednesday."

"And?"

"Well," she said, calming down some and handing the paper to Jeff. "This is reasonable. He'll make money, and we won't be hurt. I could build these for a couple of hundred dollars less than what he is charging. With his discount, he's going to make out just fine. I convinced him that this used to be part of my job, that I know what the components cost, and that it was time to stop the bullshit. I have built many systems that were almost as good as the ones we're ordering. I also told him to leave the cases open so I could check the components. I've had people slip me lesser motherboards and disk drives. He wasn't particularly pleased with that — acting all put upon because I didn't trust him.

"I looked him in the eye and told him I didn't trust him. When he got through blustering, he agreed to do as I asked so I could inspect the systems."

"What now?"

"I told him to assemble the systems, and if he had them done by three, we would pick them up. Otherwise, I would just go home, order the components, and use the assembly for a class project — and I meant it. It would make a great project for the girls. Well, other than Ann. She's done it so many times; she could probably do it in her sleep. And, she could teach the other how to do it."

"So, we're ready to go then?" Jeff asked, grinning.

"Yeah, let's go find everybody, and pick up some software."

They took the short ride to the software outlet. Helen had a ball making her choices. When the clerk saw how much they were getting, then found out it was for a new private school, she got the manager. When the manager started discounting everything, Jeff began to feel a little guilty and told him that it was a private school, and didn't know whether they would qualify for the discounts. The manager said they qualified just fine.

They didn't have two of the programs in stock that Doctor Boswell wanted, but the manager said he would order them and have them shipped directly to the school. It took two hours to select and get everything together, plus fill out the paperwork for the school. Jeff knew where he would be buying his software in the future. He didn't know whether they had really saved any money compared to buying on the net, but they were certainly treated fairly and with respect.

The manager opened a register and checked them out himself, not even blinking when Doctor Boswell wrote out the starter check. He assigned two clerks to help carry all the bags of software boxes to the Escalade.

As they headed out of the parking lot for a restaurant that Diana and the girls liked, Boswell said, "I can't believe that guy took the school starter check without even a comment."

Jeff looked at her a little sheepishly. "I may have had something to do with that. I got the manager aside while you were shopping and told him we were going to make a substantial purchase, paying for it with a new school account, and explained to him why. I suggested that he call the bank and speak with the branch manager before we wrote the check, so there would be no embarrassment. It does seem strange that a big computer outfit doesn't have the ability to electronically verify a check. Oh, well, save a dime so the CEO and such can have another vacation," he sarcastically said. "But calling the bank worked just as well."

Laura grinned at Jeff. "Yeah, I thought it was too easy. He stamped the check and put it in the cash drawer. He only glanced at my license when I showed it to him. Of course he had our address and school name from all the forms we had filled out."

After a leisurely lunch and a visit to a lingerie shop — Jeff sat in the truck and listened to the radio while everyone else shopped — they headed back to the computer store just after three.

They weren't offered any help carrying the purchases here, but with all the women working, the truck was soon loaded. While Jeff was going back inside for the last computer, the women stood on a grassy median that ran the length of the parking lot in front of the store. Unknown to them, about fifteen minutes earlier, a punk by the name of Cole Hagewood Junior had been thrown out of the game room a few doors down. When he tried to come back in, the manager had called the police, since he had trouble with Hagewood several times in the past. Hagewood was almost eighteen, a school dropout, and a doper. Furious, he had called his father to pick him up. While waiting, he stood in the corner smoking another crack rock when he saw the girls standing in the shade near the pickup truck.

After finishing his rock, he ambled on over, grabbed Arlene by the butt and a boob, and said, "Hey Babe, why don't you and me go to my place and party?" as he started to drag her off.

Arlene tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed her arm, and full of crack rage, shook her, hard.

Suddenly, Jeff grabbed a handful of Hagewood's long unwashed hair with one hand, and the seat of Hagewood's "stylish" pants that showed several inches of butt crack, with the other. Jeff picked him up, took a couple of running steps and threw him as far as he could.

Hagewood's mind didn't kick into gear fast enough to get his arms in front of him before he came to a skidding half on his face and chest. This left a nice little streak in the grass and a lot less skin on Hagewood's face. Between the crack cocaine and the contact with the ground, he was half stunned.

As Jeff turned back to Arlene, who was holding her arm where bright red finger marks were clearly visible, there was a screeching of tires. Something that looked like a front lineman from a pro team prized itself from a pickup truck and charged Jeff. Hagewood's father, furious at seeing his little darling picked on, when the boy was obviously only trying to line up a little pussy, swung at Jeff with every ounce of his three hundred and twenty-eight pounds of muscle behind the blow.

Jeff reflexively redirected the blow with his left arm, sliding on down Hagewood's arm until Jeff grasped the back of the bull neck. He stepped closer and delivered a hammer blow to Hagewood's solar plexus. Laura later described it as sounding as if "someone were hitting a base drum with a baseball bat." Muscles' eyes rolled up in his head and he landed on his back with his arms spreadeagled. His Nestea plunge couldn't have been choreographed any better. Arlene swore she felt the ground shake.

"I've been wanting to see that for years," a voice said from behind them. As everyone turned, a cop with sergeant's stripes stepped up. Looking nonchalantly down at the occasionally twitching man, he casually asked, "Did you kill him?"

Jeff looked at Hagewood lying beside his son. "No, I pulled the blow. I just knocked the wind out of him."

Another cop came running up. Looking at the sergeant, he said, "The manager threw the punk out for harassing the girls. He said he had already barred him last week for the same thing, but he came back today." Looking at the two on the ground, he continued, "Wow, look at the size of that guy."

"Yeah, he's a regular. And if I'm not mistaken, he's got a warrant out for him for felony assault. I know the kid has a juvenile escape warrant from the detention center. I got here a couple of minutes after you did. While you were inside, I saw the punk grab the girl over there, and everything after that."

Turning back to Arlene, the sergeant asked, "Are you okay Ma'am? Do you need medical attention?"

Hagewood Junior regained his feet. "What about me? My face is bleeding. This man," he shouted, pointing wildly at Jeff, "threw a child to the ground. I'm only seventeen..."

The sergeant interrupted. "Look punk, I've known you since you stole your first car at twelve. And I saw the whole thing this time." Turning to the patrolman, he continued, "Cuff him and call the paramedics. Tell them I said to put some band aids on him. He is not playing the hospital routine this time. While you're taking care of Junior, I'll get my leg irons out of the trunk for Daddy. Even the big cuffs won't go around this guy's wrists. We'll just make the leg irons into cuffs for him. I think they're big enough for him. If not, he'll just have to be uncomfortable for a while."

"When you get Junior into your car, bring it back over here and start the report on the sexual assault on the young lady. Leave the narrative blank. I'll write that. It's time that damn lenient juvenile judge did something about this creep. Junior should have, long since, been tried as an adult. There's no telling how many girls he's raped, who wouldn't tell because they are too scared of him and his father. This time I saw it. Something is going to be done this time."

Nodding at Jeff, "I'll do the report on the felony assault on this gentleman here."

"Uh, Sarge. Taking a swing at somebody isn't a felony assault, the patrolman made the mistake of saying."

The sergeant glared at the patrolman. "This ape killed two guys in a bar last year with his fists. He got off on self-defense. And he has a felony assault warrant for breaking another gay's neck, who manage to live. But the fact remains that he killed with his fists. Look at those ham hocks. They are already proven to be deadly weapons in a court of law. If the blow had connected, with this gentleman's head — it would have been bad. Now, get this turkey in the car."

Turning back to Arlene as the patrolman led a protesting Hagewood Junior off, the sergeant said, "I'm sorry Ma'am. Do you need to have someone look at that arm?"

"No sir. I'm fine," Arlene responded as she trembled, fighting back tears.

"Would you like to press charges?" the Sergeant asked, looking at Jeff.

"Yes, " everyone said, almost in unison.

"Good. I'm Sergeant Goodwin," he said putting his hand out to Jeff. "Now, let me get some cuffs on sleeping beauty over there before he wakes up. Then we'll get started on the paperwork. While I'm getting the cuffs, would you step over here for a moment, Sir?"

When Jeff walked the few feet to the sergeant's patrol car, Goodwin turned to Jeff. "Unless I'm badly mistaken, that bulge under your shirt in the back is a weapon. Do you have a permit for it?"

"Sure," Jeff said, pulling out his federal carry permit.

The sergeant carefully inspected it. "Wow. This is the first federal permit I've ever seen." Sergeant Goodwin handed the permit back and opened his trunk. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you come by that?"

"I could lie to you. But I won't do that. I just won't answer you."

"Hell, I didn't think you would. And by the way, if you had said you didn't have a carry permit, I was going to tell you to go by the Sheriff's Department and get one. If this guy gets out on bond — which he will — he is going to come looking for revenge. Any way he can get it. You and the ladies need to be damned careful. Now, let me get this idiot handcuffed before he comes to and I have to whack him on the head with my nightstick."

An hour later, the paperwork was done, Junior was gone in the patrol car, and Daddy was gone in the paddy wagon — he couldn't fit into the back seat of the patrol car. The sergeant shook Jeff's hand and nodded to the women. "I'm sorry the paperwork took so long. Like I said, the case detective will need a statement from everybody, and you will have to testify. I'm sorry this happened, but I'm doing the only thing I can do, to maybe, keep it from happening again."

Diana came over and hugged Goodwin before he realized what was happening. "If our testifying will help save some poor girl from that scumbag, we'll be more than glad to. And thank you for caring."

The sergeant's face was red. "Uh, the detective in charge of the case will be getting in touch with you people."

Diana's hug started an avalanche. When everybody was done, the sergeant's face was really red.

This time, as they climbed into the high-wheel pickup, there were three girls in the back seat. Nobody asked why Arlene was riding in Jeff's vehicle. When they stopped for a red light, she leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck. "Thank you," she said, simply. "You are going to get so lucky tonight."

Helen looked at her and grinned.

The ride home was fairly quite with each person occupied with their own thoughts.

Later as Jeff and his crew were nearing home, Sergeant Goodwin called for patrolman Boudreau to meet with him. As the officer pulled up beside Goodwin's vehicle, facing in the opposite direction so that drivers' windows would be next to each other, as police are wont to do, the sergeant said, "Well, that was interesting."

Boudreau chuckled. "Yeah, especially when he pushed the jailer down and got a whole can of pepper gas dumped on his big ass. Three showers or not, I'll bet he's still burning tomorrow. I damn sure was when they sprayed me in certification class."

Sergeant Goodwin's face became somber. "I know you have been threatened before — we all have. But that shithead was serious. If you even see him on the street, you call for backup — lots of it. While you are waiting for that backup, you do whatever it takes to survive. That guy's a killer. I'm afraid when he makes bond, he's going to go after Mr. Matthews, and/or us. Those threats he was making at the booking counter were serious. Off duty, don't even walk out of your house without a gun, and don't answer the door without knowing who is there. There was a cop killed at home, in front of his wife, last year. He opened the door and someone put five rounds into his chest. The cop's department knows who killed him, but the dope dealer that the cop was supposed to testify against the next day had five of his cronies swear that they were all playing poker when the killing happened."

"Shit, Sarge, I've never heard you so paranoid..."

"I'm not fucking paranoid," the sergeant said, his voice hard. "Nine out of ten of these threats are just that — threats. They don't mean shit. The tenth one will kill you. This is that one. These two assholes have played our system for years and gotten away with so much stuff it's ridiculous. They think they can get away with anything."

"Shit, Sarge. I believe you. I'll be careful."

"Don't let this guy get close to you. If he does, he'll break you in half. He's so damn big it's like he's from another planet. He killed those guys in the bar with one punch each. He hit them in the face so hard that their necks broke."

After a couple of moments of silence while Goodwin drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel, Boudreau broke the quiet. "How did Matthews take out Hagewood so easy? He just hit him once, right?"

Goodwin turned back to Boudreau. "Yeah, he just hit him once. I don't know. The guy's good, there's no doubt about that. He had a federal permit for the piece in the small of his back."

"What piece in the small of his back?"

Goodwin's eyes glaring, he slowly enunciated, "The piece you didn't notice, obviously."

"Ah, shit," Boudreau said, almost to himself.

"He was discrete about it. I guess I wouldn't have noticed it myself, except his shirt was outside, even though he had on dress pants, and that put me on alert. I got a little of the outline when he threw Junior, then again when he hit the ape. But you need to learn to use your eyes."

"I know Sarge. I'll try harder. How do you suppose he got a federal permit? Is he CIA or FBI or something?"

Goodwin shrugged. "I have no idea. But what he's carrying is a serious weapon. The outline looked like a big frame auto. I liked him, and all the rest of them. They act like good people. I just hope something bad doesn't happen to them. Oh, well, I'm beating a dead horse. But remember what I said. I've been a pallbearer too damn many times, already. And that guy with the bagpipes tears me a new one, not to mention taps from over the hill. Just be careful."

Goodwin dropped the Crown Vic in gear and left, his good mood from earlier evaporating. He decided to ride through fifth court. Maybe one of the dope dealers would give him some lip.



-------

Chapter 4

As they pulled into the back of the house, Laura waited while Jeff backed the pickup as close to the door as he could. She then backed the Escalade in beside him.

"Where are we going to put all this stuff?" Melissa asked as she opened the back hatch of the Escalade.

Jeff lowered the tailgate of the truck. "I've been thinking about that. Obviously the classrooms won't be ready for a couple of weeks." Turning to Helen, and catching Laura's eye as well, he asked, "What about the big conference room. I think the table is large enough for all the systems — it seats at least twenty. Would that be suitable for a temporary classroom, Doctor Boswell?"

"It would be fine with me, unless Laura has a better idea."

Laura shook her head. "The house has plenty of outlets in every room I've seen. I bought surge suppressors and extension cords, plus battery backup systems. I can, basically, set up most anywhere."

Jeff released the tarp straps on the back; the covering slipped away as the girls pulled. Helen looked at him and shrugged. The production line was in full swing again. Jeff grabbed a computer and started in the house. The back door to the mudroom, the inner door, and the door to the conference room were already propped open.

Diana was moving all the chairs against one wall of the conference room as Jeff came in with the computer. "I though I would get these out of the way to make things a little easier."

"Move husband, this thing is heavy," Jennie said carrying a computer box that seemed to be almost as big as she was.

Jeff quickly set his computer box on the table and helped her with hers. "Why didn't you get one of the monitors, this thing is too heavy for you, not to mention bulky?"

Jennie had already turned back toward the door when she answered over her shoulder, "Hush, husband, we don't want you too tired to do your duty tonight."

Helen, grinning from ear to ear, passed with her load, obviously having heard what was said.

In a few minutes, everything was stacked around the room, leaving the table mostly empty except for the boxes Jeff and Jennie had first placed there before Laura had directed everyone to line things up along one wall.

"Okay," Laura said, calling their attention. "It's almost time for dinner, but I want everyone to learn the proper way to set up a computer system. Each of us has a computer, wireless keyboard and mouse, monitor and a printer. The classroom will also have one industrial size laser printer for big jobs. That will be networked into everyone's system. All the systems will be networked so that Doctor Boswell can check on what you are doing at any time."

"Ahhhh," all the girls groaned in unison.

Laura laughed. "She will have administrative rights to every computer, including mine and Diana's. We will be her students, also."

"Now let's get everything opened and each of the components for your system in front of you on the table. I know everyone here is computer literate, probably to varying degrees, though. Ann has helped me do this at work many times. So she's going to be bored." Thinking a moment, she turned to Ann. "Why don't you go ahead and assemble your system? When you're done, you can assist wherever you think you need to."

Ann shrugged and began unpacking her system.

Continuing to the others, "I'm going to go into a little more detail than just plugging wires in, so that you will understand more about your systems. By the way, the computers have the latest motherboards, the fastest processors currently on the market, two large disk drives each, and I maxed out with the best memory available. Since we were spending Jeff's money," she said, smiling at him, "I got the absolute best I could buy."

Jeff started helping open boxes. He soon found Laura beside him. She stared at him with a sweet little smile on her face, but locked eyes with him. Clearing his throat, "I guess I'll, uh, go make some coffee."

"Good idea," Laura whispered as she turned back to the controlled chaos around her.

Jeff made some coffee, then settled in to channel surf.

Later, the herd of girls burst into the living room. Melissa plopped down on Jeff's lap, giving him a big hug and a great feel of her breasts pressing against his chest. "Laura is so smart. She had us put everything together half a dozen times. I learned more in the last hour about installing systems than I learned all year at school. And she doesn't talk down to us. But I missed you, husband," she said snuggling closer again.

Jennie tapped her on the shoulder. "My turn."

When Melissa kissed him and got up, Jennie unbuttoned her blouse, and pulling her bra up, sat where Melissa had just vacated. Rising up, she poked her breast against Jeff's mouth.

"Uh, Baby, where's Doctor Boswell?"

"I think she's helping Diana and Laura fix dinner. But who cares? She knows we're all your wives."

"Yeah, but Baby we shouldn't..." It grew hard to talk when she pushed her nipple past his lips.

Jennie sighed and encouraged him to suck harder.

-------

Helen noticed that both Diana and Laura seemed to be preoccupied, or something, as they bustled about the kitchen. Both still wore their dress clothes from their excursion to buy the computers and software, but they had apparently gotten rid of their bras at some point; that was obvious by the slight bounce, plus prominent nipples poking at the front of their blouses.

As the last of the food was put on the table, Helen, nearest the door said, "I saw the girls go into the living room as we came in to start dinner, so I'll get them."

She turned and was out the door while Laura and Diana looked at each other for a second, gasped in unison, and started after her — but it was too late. By the time they crossed the big kitchen and got into the hallway, Helen was standing frozen in the living room doorway.

Ann was passed out on the floor with a pillow under her head. Jennie and Melissa were standing by the recliner caressing Jeff. Everyone was nude, including Arlene, who was riding Jeff, and was only seconds away from her latest orgasm. Jeff, almost there himself, was totally focused as he thrust up into her. He arched his back, raising Arlene off the recliner as he trembled. There was a moment of quiet, then Arlene's moans became a long, continuous scream that went higher and higher as Jeff's geyser of sperm gushed into her pussy and womb.

The tableau held for a moment, then Arlene collapsed onto Jeff's chest. He thrust a couple more times, then quietly held his daughter. Helen, realizing that she had seen wet splotches all over Jeff's chest, and now seeing Arlene's left nipple leaking milk, knew where the wet spots came from. As she glanced at Ann, who seemed to just be regaining consciousness, Helen noticed there was cum all over Ann's groin, as well as a large puddle on the carpet between her spread legs. With a start, Helen remembered the "half cup" discussion. Looking at the cum now leaking from Arlene as Jeff pulled his cock out of her vagina, not to say anything about Ann, Helen realized that the women hadn't been exaggerating at all. If anything, the opposite. If these girls have an egg ready, they're definitely pregnant.

Almost as if she were reading her mind, Diana whispered, "They're protected." Then after a moment, "Let's go back to the kitchen and give them time to get dressed."

As they entered the kitchen, Helen said, "Maybe I should just go back to my apartment, I..."

"And if you do, how will the girls feel, knowing you were so embarrassed by something they did that you couldn't stay and eat with us afterward?" Diana asked.

Helen stood for a moment contemplating the situation. Mentally shrugging, she opened the cabinet and got a cup out. Turning to the others, "Does anyone else want some?"

Laura smiled. "Yeah, but right now, we'll settle for coffee. Make it three."

Sitting the cups on the table, Helen grinned at Laura. After getting the pot and pouring for everyone, Boswell looked at Diana. "You're smarter than you admit. You knew I wouldn't want to embarrass the girls or Jeff."

Diana cast her eyes down for a moment. "I couldn't think of anything else to say. The girls are young and impulsive. And, of course, Laura and I both wanted to jump his bones, too."

Thinking back, Helen commented, "You were both excited while we fixed dinner. You knew what was going on, didn't you? Your nipples..."

Laura and Diana glanced at each other. Laura put sweetener and creamer in her coffee. "We knew, and we were turned on, but, unless you're smuggling grapes in your bra, someone else is a little excited, too."

Helen glanced down at herself and grinned. "I'm retired, not dead. I have got to admit, that was the most sensual thing I have ever seen. But I feel guilty, if I hadn't been here, you two would have been in there as well."

"No, we wouldn't," both said in unison.

"You mean you were going to let Arlene thank Jeff without you two around?"

Both Diana and Laura looked confused.

Helen realized that they didn't know what she was talking about. "Arlene kissed Jeff on the neck on the way home, and told him he was going to get 'so lucky' tonight."

Both women chuckled. Diana glanced at her cigarettes lying on the table. "No, what you saw in the living room isn't Arlene's version of 'lucky.' And she just might have some help with that," she mysteriously said. "After all, that was my daughter that punk tried to drag off."

"I'm totally lost now," Helen said, finally fixing her coffee.

Laura took a sip and set her cup down. "Sometimes we just don't horn in when the girls attack Jeff. We just let him enjoy four teenage girls without us around. Not that we would curtail anything, mind you, but high on the list of any man's dreams has got to be what just happened to Jeff. We love our husband, and please him in any way we can."

Diana took a cigarette out of the pack and without thought, went through her usual routine to light it. Boswell noted Diana's almost-performance. Remembering her glance at the pack of cigarettes when they were talking about Jeff getting "lucky" later, Boswell began to wonder. "I've been around your family for just a few days, but during that time, I've seen nothing that would even hint at jealousy. How can four teenage girls, not to mention you two..."

Laura laughed. "I've been in love with Jeff for years. Most of the time, I wouldn't let a man near me because of that, even though I knew nothing would ever come of my love. Heck, he was married to my best friend. I certainly wasn't going to try to do anything about it. But Diana took care of that for me." Smiling at Diana, she continued, "My daughter has loved him since she was thirteen, according to her. She saved herself for him, and basically didn't do anything with a boy — although several tried their best.

"I believe, now that I think about it, that Jennie and Melissa might have already been in love with him before they came out here. They have known him for years, just like Ann. And Arlene..."

Diana interrupted. "... has always been 'Daddy's girl.' She has always loved him dearly. I suspect she has been in love with him for quite awhile, also. Although, I think she tried to suppress it because of the incest taboo."

Locking eyes with Diana for a moment, Laura continued, "We all love him. And we know that each of us is special to him. Maybe we love him enough to share. And maybe we love him enough to be happy when he is enjoying another female — well, at least if she is one of his wives. I don't think we would be lenient enough to let him have sex with just anyone.

"I guess I haven't done a very good job of answering your question. But he is our Alpha Male. What he wants, we tend to want, too." Frustrated at her inability to convey something that seemed so obvious to her, she picked up one of Diana's cigarettes and lit it.

Noticing Laura's frustration, Helen tried to change the subject. "I would have though they would be here by now. Obviously, everyone has already... well, had sex."

"They're not doing that now. They're in the suite," Diana started, then in unison with Laura, "probably taking a shower."

"How do you do that?" Helen asked.

"Do what?" Again in unison.

"All those studies that have been done on ESP. Anything that turned up was trivial, and now these two," she thought aloud.

"But we don't," and in unison "have ESP."

Laura and Diana burst out laughing.

Helen put her head down on the table for a moment.

Diana held her hand up to forestall Laura from saying anything. "We all do it occasionally, one word, or short phrase each, just to mess with Jeff. It drives him bonkers. Laura and I have done it, at least a little, for years. Arlene and I could do it since she was about eight. After we came out here, I guess we all just got a little closer, pun not intended. Sometimes, it's fun and we try to do it. Sometimes, like now, we have to consciously try not to do it. It has other aspects, as well," she mysteriously said.

Before Boswell could ask about the "other aspects," Diana stood up, "Time to put the food in the microwaves," she said, putting action to words. "They're on the way."

Helen had not set up her "scientific" test yet, but she had no doubt that Jeff and the girls would soon be coming into the kitchen. She picked up a platter and headed for a microwave.

As Boswell waited for the food to warm, Diana put her hand on her shoulder. "Please just be part of us. Don't be embarrassed by what you saw in the living room. If you feel like teasing them, have at it. The girls will certainly tease you every chance they get. If they didn't tease you, it would mean either that they were uncomfortable around you, or they didn't like you. Okay?"

The door burst open before Boswell could reply. "I'm hungry," Jeff said.

"Well, he should be hungry," Arlene said, giggling. "He's..."

"Been busy," Helen interjected, impulsively holding up a jar of mayonnaise.

There was a startled look on the girls' faces, and a groan from Jeff. Then everybody burst out laughing.

As the timer dinged, Melissa opened the microwave that Boswell was using. Taking the plate out, she winked at Helen. "Mayonnaise doesn't taste nearly as good."

Boswell laughed softly as she watched Melissa practically flounce back toward Jeff. Boswell noted that Jeff's eyes riveted on Melissa's jiggling breasts while she took her time setting the food down.

They usually ate at the smaller of the kitchen tables, which was designed to seat ten. Normally Jeff sat at one end with Diana at the other, flanked by Laura on one side and Helen on the other. The girls usually arranged themselves next to Jeff, thus completely filling the seating. As Laura seated herself, Jennie and Diana took her hand, the rest joined hands as well. Startled, Helen realized what was happening as everyone bowed their heads, and Jeff said a short grace.

As he finished, Jeff realized that Boswell looked a bit stunned. "Helen, I hope we didn't stress you, but I guess we have been neglecting our prayer of thanks. What happened today seemed to point out how blessed, if you want to call it that, or lucky if you prefer, that we really are. Some terrible things could have happened."

"No, I'm not..."

Jeff interrupted. "Just because I have six wives doesn't mean that I'm an atheist. If you are, then I hope you will put up with us, and, in return, we won't pressure you into saying a prayer when it's your turn."

"I'm not an atheist. Since John and Martha died, I haven't gone to church, or much of anything else, though." Looking Jeff in the eye, tears sparkling in hers, "You're the nicest people I know. A few weeks ago, I thought about killing myself. A few days ago, I almost did die. Now, I look forward each day to being with you people, and my new students. To use an old, over used, cliché, I now have something to live for again."

Arlene got up and went around the table to hug Helen. Whispering in her ear, she said, "We love you, too. And we're sorry we embarrassed you in the living room."

Helen hugged her back, grinning, then quietly, "You didn't embarrass me. But you did make me really excited."

Obviously everyone had good hearing. As the women grinned, Jeff fought not to strangle on the piece of chicken he was about to swallow.

As Arlene started back to her seat trying to stifle a giggle, there was a titter from a couple of the girls, a cough, then everyone, including Helen, burst out laughing.

"Pass the chicken," Helen said, enjoying herself, and forgetting about embarrassment, feeling more at home than she had in a long time.

-------

As everyone was finishing eating, Diana got up and started gathering up the dishes preparatory to rinsing and putting them in the dishwasher. "What about a movie?"

Everyone agreed that sounded good.

Diana looked at Helen, knowing that she would try to give them privacy, and make an excuse to go to her apartment. "Helen, why don't you go on in with Jeff and the girls and pick a movie you would like to see. Laura and I will give the kitchen a quick cleanup and be with you in a few minutes."

"Diana, I feel like I'm imposing. I've been with you guys nonstop for days now. I have plenty to do to keep me busy..."

"Nonsense. And besides, three of those days, you were unconscious."

Before Helen could say anything else, Jeff spoke up, "If you're really tired of us, then by all means go do whatever you want. But other than that, you don't need an invitation. This is your home, not just that apartment. If you don't mind occasionally walking in on us when we're, uh, indisposed, that is."

"I'm not a prude, and I am forty-five years old. I'll admit that I didn't have much of a sex life before I met my husband, and then Martha, but I think I already proved that I'm not going to faint dead when I walk in on something. I know I blush like a virgin — the students used to kid me about that all the time — but I'm not easily embarrassed, the blush just happens. As I told Diana and Laura, 'I'm retired, not dead.' None of you have done anything to offend me."

Arlene had a gleam in her eye. "Okay then. Since you're not easily embarrassed, and it's your turn to choose a movie, let's go look through our triple-x section."

"Arlene!" Jeff exclaimed. He turned back to Helen, "She's just messing with you. We don't have a triple-x section."

Diana looked at her husband. "Well, uh, Jeff... uh, we all sat down the other day while you were taking a nap and ordered a bunch of, uh... triple-x off the internet. Sorry we didn't tell you," she squeaked.

The look on Jeff's face was priceless.

Helen tried to hide a chuckle, but didn't succeed very well. "Jeff, you're not going to be the prude, are you?" she teased.

Jeff looked back at Doctor Boswell, trying to think of something to say of reasonable intelligence. If I say something about the girls being sixteen and seventeen, someone is going to point out that they are my wives, not children. I guess, when you get right down to it, I don't care whether they watch triple-x or not. Hell, what we do would sell for big money, if someone videoed it. It's just that watching porn with Boswell present, is going to be really, really strange.

"Well, Jeff?" Diana asked.

"Well, I guess..."

Whatever he started to say, never got finished. Arlene kissed him hard on the mouth, squealed, "Thanks Dad," grabbed Doctor Boswell's arm and dragged her out of the kitchen.

Diana glanced about the room. "Aren't you girls going to help them decide?"

Ann, Jennie and Melissa all stood up at the same time. Ann took the stack of dishes from Diana, "You and Mom fixed dinner. It's our job to clean up. Now shoo. We'll have this cleaned up in no time."

Diana and Laura wound up helping, anyway, and the kitchen was spotless in ten minutes, the dishwashers chugging away.

As they entered the theater, Jeff was just placing the DVD in the player. Doctor Boswell and Arlene were sitting on the second row, giggling together like they were both schoolgirls.

Jeff cued the movie with the remote, then dimmed the lights. "Are we ready?"

With a resounding affirmative from everyone, he hit "Play," and headed for the fifth row. Arlene looked up at Ann, Jennie and Melissa. A look passed between them, and Arlene got up and headed for her dad. Jennie and Melissa sat on Helen's right, while Ann sat on her left.

Helen glanced around to see that Arlene had sat down next to her dad, with Diana just to his right. Laura sat next to Diana.

This was Boswell's first time in the theater. That screen is the biggest I have ever seen out of a commercial theater. And even with a triple-x movie, the sound is astonishing. Whoever built this conference center spent a lot of money on this room and what's in it.

As with most porn movies, little effort had been spent on a plot. Ten minutes into the movie, the leading "lady" was getting slammed with a cock. Arlene whistled. "Hey, I've got more than that sitting right beside me."

Ann turned around. "Maybe you could be a porn star in your spare time, Jeff."

Diana laughed. "If he does that, I'll cut it off and hang it on the wall. That way I'll know where it's been."

Boswell could feel her face flame. The lights are off, but we're so close to the screen, I know there is enough light to see my face. Maybe no one will notice.

As the movie progressed, everyone got quieter. The guy was going at the girl with her lying on her back, her knees pushed against her breasts. Unlike most porn movies, the man didn't pull out and masturbate himself to ejaculate on the girl's stomach, or breasts. Instead, he grunted out that he was going to cum, gave several very rapid hunches, then held deep inside her for awhile, occasionally grinding his pelvis against her. The girl humped her pussy wildly, and whispered, "I can feel it. I can feel it." She was either a lot better actress than anyone gave her credit for, or she actually had a very intense orgasm. Finally, the guy pulled almost out, then slowly pushed back in. Cum squirted out of the girl, and oozed down the crack of her ass.

Helen knew her own nipples were like rocks, and her panty gusset was well on its way to being soaked.

The couple on the screen slowly regained their breath and started kissing. A little later, the guy pulled his cock out, with an accompanying gush of cum.

Ann leaned over to talk to Jennie. "Jeff comes ten times more than that."

"Yeah," Jennie answered, "and that's when he finishes with the last one of us."

Helen felt her nipples tingle as she overheard the comment. I've seen Jeff's dick, half-hard, sticking out of his pants. And I saw it come out of Arlene after they finished. I've never seen it all the way up, but I know it has to be every bit as big as the guy on the screen. And I saw what ran out of Arlene. How can any man cum that much?

Another girl came to visit on screen, and they were soon involved in the Sapphic embrace while the guy watched. The second girl had semen on her mouth and chin, as the fresh-fucked pussy continued to drool cum.

Helen heard a moan from behind her, and couldn't resist looking. Arlene was sitting in Jeff's lap with him nursing her breast.

Realizing that the girls had seen her look around, Helen said, "Looks like Arlene is telling her dad, 'thank you.'"

Jennie glanced around. "Nah. Jeff is just relieving a little pressure for her. He does that for Arlene and Diana every day — otherwise, they have to use the breast pump, and they both hate that."

Melissa glanced back at the couple. Quietly, she said, almost as if she were reading Helen's mind, "By the way, don't ever refer to it as 'nursing', unless you're talking about a baby. He says that babies nurse. Men suck titty." Turning back to Helen with a wistful look, "I wish I could give milk like Arlene and Diana. I would love for him to suck my titty milk."

Boswell didn't have the foggiest notion what to say. I just hope they can't smell me. I'm afraid my panties are going to be soaked through by the time the movie is over, and I'll have a wet place on the back of my skirt. I wish I had taken time to change into jeans after we got back. If Jeff sees the wet place, I'll just die.

Unnoticed by Boswell, Diana, Arlene and Laura got up to leave the theater. Diana leaned over to whisper in Jeff's ear, "Give us ten minutes, then come find us."

-------

When Jeff walked into the bedroom, he knew he was going to have a treat. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, but he was expecting them to be waiting in bed for him, or maybe, wearing something sexy. He froze halfway through the door, his cock, although hard before, now seemed to be trying to tear a hole in his pants.

Diana, Arlene, and Laura were lined up on their hands and knees on the edge of the bed. Each had on black spikes, and something that looked like a skirt, except it was made of some type of red, see-through material. If they had been standing, the skirts might have reached to their pussies, but in the position they were in, the skirts were little more than decoration. Their breasts were bare, their nipples swollen. They had put a very small amount of blush on their nether lips, and their areolas and nipples — barely enough to be seen, just an accent. Each had retouched their makeup, and each was holding an unlit 120 in their hand — red nail polish prominent.

"Your bar-whores are ready to be fucked," they chorused.

Diana and Arlene were fighting Cheshire grins, but Laura seemed nervous.

Ah, crap. I don't care one way or the other about the cigarettes. Why do Diana and Arlene keep doing that? But, damn, they do look sexy. And if some guy ever finds one gal in a bar as sexy as my wives, he'll be lucky. Three — no way. Oh, well, if they want to play their "bar-whore" routine, I'm sure not going to spoil their fun — and mine.

He shucked out of his shirt, tee-shirt, shoes, socks, and pants. His cock was trapped, sticking out of the leg of his shorts. When he yanked the shorts free, his cock sprang up so hard that it made a slapping sound as it hit his belly and rebounded. Laura, who had seen it, giggled, setting off a titter from the others.

Diana was on the right, Arlene in the middle, and Laura on the left. As he rubbed his dick against Diana's slit, he realized that she was literally dripping. Arlene grinned at him and nodded toward three small, penis-shaped vibrators on the bed.

I'm glad I waited twenty minutes instead of ten. Looks like they spent the time really getting ready.

Lining up his cock at her entrance, he slowly pushed in. Diana sucked in her breath and put her head down on the bed, arching her pussy as high as she could. He backed out, then shoved in a little deeper. By the fourth push, he was snugly against her cervix. Diana moaned as he moved his hips, dragging his cockhead across the rubbery opening.

Jeff felt something tap him on the leg. Looking down, he realized that Arlene was handing him something. Slow-stroking Diana, he took what he had been given and looked at it. He was reminded of a cat-of-nine-tails, but this was only about a foot long, and there were only five of the tails. The tails were wide and flat. I'll bet this thing will sting like hell; the tails are too wide to cut, but if you hit hard enough, they would sure raise a blister.

Jeff reached under her belly with his left hand, took firm hold, pushed against her womb, and swatted Diana smartly on her right ass cheek.

Unsuspecting, she violently jerked and howled like a cat in heat. Her pussy clamped down so hard, he couldn't pull his dick back.

"Jeff, noooooo. Oh, shit, Jeff, that hurts. I'm not in the mood for that, Baby. Just fuck me. Oh, shit, my ass burns."

Jeff reached across and swatted her other cheek, and remembering last time, was very careful to stay away from his dick. The second lick produced a ride not unlike that of a bucking bronc.

"Oh, shit Jeff. Stop. I really don't want to do this. I..."

Jeff lit her ass up with rapid-fire slaps with the crop. She wiggled her ass and bucked, but he just ground his cock into her cervix and hung on. Suddenly, in mid-scream, her pussy almost violently milked his cock, and she came, her orgasm continuing for a very long time. The spasming finally died down to an occasional tremor. Belatedly, he realized that she was out.

As he always did, he made sure that she was breathing properly, then left her lying on her belly with her ass still somewhat humped up, her pussylips swollen and obvious between her legs. Jeff kissed her on the back of her neck, and turned to Arlene.

Arlene had turned over while Jeff was fucking Diana. Placing the unlit cigarette in her mouth the way Jack had coached her, she had masturbated while waiting for her parents to finish.

Jeff looked at his daughter while holding his cock with one hand and the crop with the other. "Turn over little bar-whore, and get on your hands and knees. My balls are about to burst."

Eyeing the crop, Arlene almost dropped the cigarette out of her mouth. She hastily took it in her hand, holding it up the way Jack had taught her. "Uh, Dad, the spanking is Mother's thing. I don't need that. I just need that big cock of yours."

Turning over, she dropped her belly and pushed her pussy as high as she could. "Mount your little bar-whore, Dad." She replaced the one-twenty in her mouth, pulled on it to hollow her cheeks, glancing in the mirror to see if Jeff were watching.

Jeff stepped closer and rubbed the head of his cock in her juices. As his cockhead penetrated her opening, he reached around her belly with his left hand. Working his way in, as he had to do with all his women, he seated his cock to the bottom of her depth. She grunted as he bumped her cervix.

Arlene had already had several orgasms while she had watched her dad fucking her mother. As he pushed against her uterus, another orgasm hit with force. As she shivered and wailed, Jeff swung the crop. Arlene had not been expecting it. She dropped the cigarette, and the wail turned into a scream that hurt Jeff's ears as she thrashed to get away, totally uncoordinated because her orgasm was at its peak.

Jeff rubbed the head of his cock across her cervix, and hung on — then swatted her other cheek. She screamed louder.

If she really doesn't like this, I'm in a world of shit.

Mentally shrugging, he gave her five more good swats on each ass cheek, dropped the crop and hung on for dear life. After she had bucked for a few seconds, he machine-gunned his dick into her, thumping the head against her womb on each stroke. Each contact with her womb drew a grunt from her.

Her orgasm peaked again as he held in hard, rotating his hips. His prostate cramped, and he felt the cum boiling up from his balls. A second later, his seed spewed out of the head of his dick, which was still rammed hard against her cervix.

Arlene jerked when the warm sperm pumped into her womb, and she screamed until she ran out of breath and collapsed, feeling her father's cock continuing to spurt inside her. The world grayed out as her pussy continued to spasm around his cock. After awhile, she vaguely felt him kiss the back of her neck, then pull his cock out of her pussy. A moment later, she was sound asleep.

Jeff staggered back from the bed. Wow. I haven't cum that hard in a while. Maybe there is something to this dominance crap after all. They sure do look sexy with their asses humped up, particularly when my cum pours out of Arlene like that.

Turning to Laura, he realized that she was pale, her face devoid of all expression. She turned back to her original position, though, her body resting on the forearms and knees. She was still holding the cigarette, as she had been when he entered the room.

He rolled her onto her back, taking the unlit cigarette from her hand and dropping it on the floor, then kissing her. "Diana likes to be spanked on occasion, and I tried it with Arlene, since she handed me the crop, and you do look sexy on your hands and knees with the 'bar-whole' routine, but I'm not going to have you scared of me." Laura tried to say something, but he hushed her by sealing his mouth to hers.

Gently, he made love to her for a long time. At last, when she was barely conscious, he pumped his sperm into her. As she relaxed, he realized that she was either unconscious, or sleeping.

Withdrawing, he went to the bathroom and brought back warm, wet washcloths and a towel. As he cleaned each of his wives, he kissed them and told them how much he loved them. By the time the others came in after watching the movie, Arlene, Diana and Laura were on one side of the bed, under the sheet.

Jennie, Melissa and Ann tackled him, demanding to be fucked. In less than a minute, Jennie was sitting on his face, and someone else was sitting on his cock, he wasn't sure who. It was quite late before he got to sleep.



-------

Chapter 5

Sunday morning, Jeff checked the remote thermometer. Thirty-four degrees outside. He slipped on a light jacket, went out the back door, and started his run. Shortly after he made his turnaround and started back up the mountain, big, wet snowflakes began to fall. Crap, it's not quite September. Oh, well, it snowed a couple of inches last month. I guess it can snow in August, too. The guy in Winter Park said snow fell every month of the year around here, and so did Sperman. But hearing about snow and seeing snow in mid summer just isn't the same thing.

The small LED flashlight he carried produced an unfocused blue-white light that made the snowflakes sparkle as they swirled in the gusts of wind, but the wide beam lit the road sufficiently for his needs. By the time he got back to the house, the ground was mostly white, but he could tell the snow was melting almost as fast as it fell.

This snow is but a foretaste of things to come. The mountain is going to be a real bitch in winter — but we knew that. Frank said this place had worked far better for them as a conference center in the summer than it did in the winter — getting everyone to and from the center when the weather was bad had created problems. The only place we have to go, however, is the food store every week or so. I need to talk with Diana about making sure the pantries and freezers are kept stocked. I'm not going to have my women put at risk by driving in and out of here when the weather is really bad. Georgia has only a little sprinkling of snow or ice occasionally, so we don't have the driving experience on ice that the people around here do. I want my wives to learn slowly, and carefully, on roads that are a lot less steep than these. One mistake on these mountain roads could very well be fatal.

It was still pitch black under heavy cloud cover when he got back to the house, but the yard lights cast a warm welcome during his walkdown. Hanging up his jacket and leaving his wet running shoes and socks in the mudroom, he padded down the hall and into the kitchen.

Boswell, wearing shorts and a loose pullover top, looked up from her laptop. "It's a little different out there this morning, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that wind has a bite to it, but the snow is pretty."

"I really enjoyed swimming laps while watching the snow coming down outside. That glass wall at the end of the pool is such a nice touch. The snow will probably be gone in a little while, but wait a month, or less, and it will be a near-permanent thing."

"I was just thinking about talking to Diana about starting a list of what we use every week, and stocking up on those items. Once we get a really comprehensive list, we can make sure we don't run out of anything, so we don't have to go out when the weather is bad."

"Hey, grocery lists aren't exactly a new thing," Helen teased.

Jeff grinned back. "Yeah, we have a list every week, but we still run out of milk, or bread, or something we just have to have, and wind up making a trip to Winter Park to get it. Most things can be frozen. We certainly have plenty of freezer and other storage space, and we do have a lot of stuff stored, but there is always something we need to run to the store to get. Those are the things I think we need to concentrate on stocking. And I don't mean just a week's worth, either. If a bad snow comes, we can just sit it out without the little aggravations about being out of something."

"Ah, come on, Jeff," she teased. "All three of your vehicles are four-wheel drive, and you told me that you had a contract to have your drive plowed every day it needed it."

Jeff poured himself a cup and sat down across from her. "And we're from Georgia. Plus, one mistake on that driveway and you're dead."

Sobering, Boswell looked at him. "You're already preaching to the converted. That driveway convinced me the first night. I was just yanking your chain a little. It petrifies me even now. I don't want to think about driving on it covered in ice and snow — and I've lived in this area all my life."

Jeff grinned at her. "There are several bad curves on the county road, too. And, they don't even have a rail. Oh, well, there is generally bad with the good in most things you can think of. This place is beautiful, and secluded. If we lived in the city, we would have neighbors all bent out of shape because I have six wives. We don't have to worry about that up here. We just have to worry about driving off a cliff," he chuckled.

Boswell typed for a couple of minutes on her computer while Jeff sipped his coffee. Indicating a stack of papers sitting beside the laptop, she said, "If you don't have any objections, I'm going to start with a battery of tests first thing this morning."

When Jeff raised an eyebrow, she continued. "I know it's Sunday, and school hasn't officially started yet, but I want to know exactly where the girls are academically, and I don't want to overwhelm them with a large group of tests at one time. If I start a little early, there won't be so many tests to take, one after the other, plus I can begin preparing for their classes."

"How long will today's tests take?"

"A couple of hours this morning. Then another couple of hours later this afternoon."

"Sounds good to me, but be prepared to hear some griping."

Boswell grinned at him. "I taught school for twenty-five years, remember. It's a rare teenager that doesn't gripe about school from time to time. I can handle it."

"After they get through with their test this morning, I want them, and you, for about an hour. I slept poorly last night. I kept waking up and thinking about Sergeant Goodwin's call."

"Oh, did he call after we got home?"

"Yeah, he called while you guys were setting up your computer systems. He's very concerned about threats that Hagewood made. Goodwin says that this guy and his scumbag son should have been in jail long ago, but they have managed to wrangle out of everything so far. Goodwin says that the cops charged Hagewood with the threats, in addition to the other charges, but he just laughed at them. He has gotten off so many times, that he figures that he can get away with anything.

"Goodwin says he thinks the guy may have connections somewhere in the system, and although Goodwin took precautions to protect our address on the reports, he's afraid that Hagewood won't have any trouble in getting it (our address), anyway."

"And, you want us today for..."

"Firearms training."

"Well, I've shot a rifle some, and I have been deer hunting a few times..."

"This will, primarily, be handgun, but we'll use a rifle a little later. Actually, today will only be classroom, but I'll have a couple of autoloaders to field strip and clean for practice, so there will be a little hands-on work today."

"Jeff, this is scaring me. Do you really think he'll do something?"

"Well, Goodwin told me that he had been a cop for seventeen years. The guy seems pretty sharp to me. I've seen a couple like him before — they don't want to take the Lieutenant's test because they still want to be a street cop. I guess what I'm trying to say is, yes. Goodwin was sure enough that Hagewood would try something, that he (Goodwin) made the effort to call and warn us. For what it's worth, I think he's right.

"He said he called the county Sheriff, since we're in the county here, and told him about Hagewood. Goodwin also sent pictures of the two of them. He said the Sheriff complained about not having enough deputies to patrol much out this way, but claimed that he would get the pictures to the people that worked this area, and would tell them to be on the lookout, anyway."

Jeff warmed his coffee up, but Helen waved him off when he started to give her some more. "I must have had three cups already. I swam for a while, but I couldn't get my mind off getting the school started, so I came on to the kitchen, made some coffee, and started on the girls' files while I waited for you to get back from your run."

Jeff sat back down and took a sip. "If you want privacy so you can concentrate, there are plenty of offices in the house. Several on this floor, and more on the second."

Helen glanced up at him. "Oh, no. I look forward to our morning talks, besides, what I'm doing isn't that complicated. I'm just setting up files for each of the girls."

Boswell hesitated for a moment. "You have no idea how much I'm enjoying your family. I've been so lonesome... And you have treated me like family." Winking at him, "Even if I did walk in on you making out."

Jeff chuckled. "That was some pretty serious 'making out.' But as far as we're concerned, you are family. But even loving families fight occasionally, and there are some rather strong personalities here, so don't be too upset if someone has PMS or something, and snarls a little." Contemplating for a moment, he continued. "I guess I've been expecting a bit of the snarling for weeks now, but so far, they have all gotten along so well that it's almost scary."

Helen grinned at him. "Maybe they don't want to make their Alpha Male mad at them."

"Now don't you start. I'm no more an Alpha Male, whatever that is, than I'm a turkey."

Unable to resist, Helen said, "Gobble, gobble."

The joke was a poor one, but they both laughed, anyway. The door pushed open and Ann walked in rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Jeff got a cup down and filled it, putting in sweetener and creamer the way she liked it. Wearing nothing but a short, light blue negligee, she climbed into his lap and sleepily curled up, nuzzling her cheek to his shoulder.

"Why are you up so early, Little One?"

"You weren't in the bed," she pouted, her voice slurred, barely awake. "I couldn't sleep."

Boswell caught his eye and grinned.

Handing Ann her coffee, "It's snowing out — great big wet flakes. The ground is white, and it's sticking in the trees."

"Uhum," she mumbled, taking a sip. Sitting the cup back on the table, she snuggled back to him. "You smell sweaty."

"Sorry, Baby. I just got back from my run."

Sighing, she softly said, "I didn't say I didn't like it. It makes me horny."

Boswell's typing faltered, then resumed. Her grin got bigger.

The door pushed open again, and Diana and Laura came in wearing little more than Ann.

Laura kissed Jeff and ruffled her daughter's hair. "I knew where you had to be."

Diana took her turn, then hugged Jeff's face to her breasts for a moment. "Why are my women up so early on a Sunday morning? It's barely past six."

Diana turned Jeff's head loose and headed for the coffee. "I don't know about Ann, but when I rolled over onto my sore ass, I made a noise and woke Laura. We went ahead and got up."

Helen looked a question at Diana.

Diana poured a cup for Laura and herself, then both women sat down at the table — Diana, very carefully. "My daughter set me up to get my ass spanked last night, but she screwed up. Jeff spanked her ass, too. I was out when he got around to her, but Laura tells me that he did a good job. Serves the little imp right," she giggled.

At Helen's questioning look, Laura said, "Arlene bought this whip on the net — it looks like a small riding crop, with several leather tails. Jeff used it liberally on both of them. They orgasmed so hard they passed out."

Diana put her coffee back on the table and leaned back, a look on her face. "I would like to have seen Arlene get it, though. And I hope her rear is as sore as mine. That crop hurts like you wouldn't believe." She took some of the sting out of her words by leaning over and kissing Jeff, hard. Jeff fought to hold back a grin, mostly unsuccessfully.

As Diana eased back down in the chair, Helen remarked, "I've never done anything like that, and I think I can live the rest of my life without it. Oh, my husband spanked me a little, just playing around, but we never did anything to make me sore the next day..."

Before Helen could finish, the door swung open again with Arlene in the lead. Jennie and Melissa were obviously teasing Arlene about getting a spanking, but if Arlene was mad at her dad, it didn't show as she hungrily kissed him. Jennie had to loudly clear her throat to get her turn.

As Melissa took her turn, Jennie noticed the snow showing on the big security monitor at the other end of the kitchen. Most of the women went closer to the screen to have a look, rotating through all the cameras for different views of the snow. After comments about how pretty the trees were with snow-cover limbs, they turned to fixing breakfast.

Helen got up and moved her computer and paperwork to the big table, before joining in the production line.

After gently disengaging a grumbling Ann from his lap, Jeff headed for a quick shower.

Later, after their meal, as they gathered up the dishes and put them into the washer, Jeff, who was also helping, said, "As soon as we finish we need to have a family meeting."

"What's up Dad?" Arlene asked.

"In a little while. Let's get through with this so we can all sit down."

When the kitchen was straightened up and everyone was seated, Helen asked, "Uh, is this private?"

"Nonsense, Helen. There isn't anything in this house that's private from you. I've told you that before. Now do I have to enforce it with my cat-of-five tails?" he teased.

Helen blushed nicely, but refreshed her coffee and sat back down, saying in a deliberately pixie little voice, "Oh, no Sir."

Jeff grinned at her, thankful that she had a sense of humor, and despite all her education was not "full of herself." He winked at her, then glanced around the table. "Helen has already heard part of this, so bear with me, Doctor, while I bring everyone else up to date."

After Jeff told them about Goodwin's call, he continued, "Although I'm not a certified firearms instruction, I think I can do a decent job of teaching everyone to shoot..."

Diana interrupted, "Maybe not an instructor," she told Helen, "but they insisted he join the police reserves just so they could get him on the pistol team. He's got a whole case full of trophies."

Jeff, a little embarrassed, continued. "Being able to shoot, and being able to teach someone to shoot well, is not necessarily the same thing. I once heard an instructor say that he got someone else to teach his wife how to shoot; otherwise, he would probably have wound up sleeping on the couch for a week. I'll try not to get in the doghouse over this, and maybe, we can bring in a real instructor, later, if we need to."

As Diana started to say something, Jeff motioned with his hand. "Diana has already done quite a bit of shooting, plus she has had some extra training — actually a lot of extra training. Arlene and Laura have done quite a bit as well, and Ann has too, to a lesser extent. But if worse comes to worse, and we do have to defend ourselves from this guy, I want everyone here to be so thoroughly accustomed to their weapons, and shooting, that they can practically do it in their sleep. In a combat situation, if you have to think about how to shoot, you probably aren't going to be a survivor.

"Did they say what time they expected to deliver the bed?"

"They told me first thing Monday morning," Diana replied.

"Good, maybe they'll be through early enough for us to go to the gun shop and pick up my guns tomorrow."

"Some of us could stay here while they set the bed up," Laura said, "and you could go and get your guns" she replied to her husband.

"That would be logical, and certainly that's what we would normally do, but now with this character on the loose, I don't want us to be separated. In other words, I don't want to be away from any of you, especially until we're all better prepared than we now are to defend one another."

"Too bad our range isn't built yet," Laura spoke up.

"So true," Jeff sighed, "but I think I've thought of something that will work for the interim." Looking at Diana, he asked, "Remember how the outdoor range at the police department was set up? I think the target frames were just pieces of angle welded together to accept the two by two's. All we have to do is dig two holes about thirty inches apart, wax a two by two, stand it in the middle of the hole, and pour some Quikrete in. Then when the concrete has set a little, pull the waxed two by two out, and presto, you have a station for the target frame. Sixteen holes, some two by two's, some cardboard, some B-27 silhouette targets, and we have shooting stations for everyone.

"A lot of police departments, particularly the smaller ones, have little more than that for their officers to practice on. We can get by with that until our indoor range is finished." Thinking out loud, he continued, "Of course, it wouldn't take much to make a shed for us to be under to keep out of the weather — just three sides and a roof will make a lot of difference."

Boswell took a sip of coffee, then looked back at Jeff. "Is this going to delay the work on our classroom very much?"

"I don't think so. I'm sure the contractor either has a tractor with a posthole digger, or has access to one. It probably won't take thirty minutes to dig the holes. Since it's a hurry-up thing, he can just use Quikrete, like I said, for this little job, instead of bringing in a truck, or mixing the concrete himself. Building the two by two target frames is simple and quick. They're essentially just a rectangle with the two vertical pieces longer than the two horizontal ones, to make 'legs.'

"You staple a piece of cardboard to the target frame, then staple the silhouette target to the cardboard. The frames get shot up, eventually, especially with shotgun training. I've seen the rangemaster and an instructor building frames at a rate of about one every two minutes. Of course, they build them by the hundreds every year, so they have it down to a science, but I helped them a time or two, so I know what to do."

"Dad, I haven't the foggiest idea where our shooting stuff is. The movers packed just about everything, and there must be fifty boxes in the basement. I know that you and Mom brought your pistols, but I don't even know where to start looking for my stuff."

"Yeah, I know that's going to be a problem. We'll just have to all dig in and look."

"I've got my nine millimeter, "Laura said, "but my other shooting gear is packed somewhere, like Arlene said hers was."

Everyone started talking at once. Jeff raised his hand slightly, "I know. I know. I've got some guns and some equipment that I didn't sell. We'll have to dig through the boxes. What we don't have, we'll buy tomorrow. I'm still a dealer, so there won't be a waiting period for any guns I have to buy. I intend for everyone to have the same type of pistols, to expedite training. We also have to buy ammunition. I had a few cases left, but, as you know, I just dropped them off at the police department when we were in Georgia the last time. They get some extra training ammunition, and we get a little goodwill. We're going to make that gun dealer that was so nice to me very happy tomorrow."

"I've never even shot a gun," Jennie nervously said.

"Me either," from Melissa.

"I've shot a little. Remember, you let me shoot some about a year ago, Jeff," Ann said.

Looking at Jennie and Melissa, Jeff answered, "Everybody has a first time. And if you haven't shot any, then you don't have any bad habits to unlearn. So don't worry about it. We're going to start with the basics. It never hurts even an experienced shooter to go back over the basics from time to time, either."

Jeff turned to Helen. "When will the girls be free from the test?"

"Test?" they all said in perfect unison.

Grinning, Helen answered, "Probably about a quarter to ten, since we're all up so early."

"Okay. Then everyone meet in the small conference room on this floor at ten." Glancing at two of his wives, he continued, "Laura, you and Diana bring your weapons. Make sure that you unload and double check them before you get to the conference room, please."

Expanding to everyone, "We'll spend time on safety, basics, sight picture, and field stripping and cleaning the pistols." Catching their eye, "Laura, Diana, and Arlene, the basics, and safety can never be taught too much. You can also help the others when they need it." Speaking to everyone, again, "We have a Colt and two Glocks. The two types field strip drastically differently. Although everyone will have a Glock shortly, I want you to be familiar with my Colt, also.

"I'll buy some dummy rounds when we go to the shop tomorrow, or if they don't have any, I'll put my press together and make some. They are excellent to practice with to get over flinch, and trigger jerk, plus practice clearing jams. Modern weapons that are properly kept don't jam much, but if your weapon did jam in a combat situation, I want you to be able to clear the jam in a couple of seconds, and to know that you can."

Jennie's face was flushed as she looked at her husband. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm scared to death of guns."

Jeff reached over and took her hand. Waiting until she looked him in the eye, he said, "This guy is bad. If you don't learn to shoot, and do it well, one of your sister wives, or I, might very well die. You're afraid because you were basically taught to be afraid of guns by your family, friends, and society. When you learn how to use your weapon, how to clean and maintain it, and how to be safe with it, you will realize that the fear has gone away. It will be replaced by respect for a tool."

Hesitating a moment, Jeff continued, "Jennie, I wouldn't be here today if I hadn't learned my weapon lessons, and learned them well." Jeff squeezed her hand. "I mean that literally, Honey."

"I'll try," Jennie sniffed, "but I'm afraid that when that gun goes off, I'll pee my pants. Daddy would hardly even talk about guns. He said that they were made to kill people, and he didn't want any guns around. But, I'll learn to shoot, if there's the slightest possibility that it might save anyone's life at this table," she said, glancing around at everyone. "But don't expect me to fall in love with shooting those things," she finished, adamantly, unshed tears sparkling her eyes.

-------

Jeff's rangemaster in Georgia had been good enough to allow Jeff to copy all the files from the range directory so he could have them on his computer. Jeff opened the safety rules file and printed everyone a range and weapon safety sheet.

After placing the paperwork around the table, he put a hand towel at each place to keep the guns from scarring the conference room table, then field stripped his Colt and placed it on a towel near where he was going to stand.

Pulling the whiteboard into position, he took a small ruler and drew a basic handgun sight picture. He started the coffee maker, then went to raid one of the big refrigerators in the kitchen for an assortment of soft drinks to stock the small refrigerator. When he started to enter the conference room with the drinks, Arlene and Ann waved to him as they left the room where Doctor Boswell was giving the test. Bouncing into the conference room as he was loading the refrigerator, they giggled when his eyes locked onto their breasts.

"You like, Daddy?" Arlene teased cupping her breasts. "You haven't relieved the pressure this morning," she mock pouted.

"It's not the pressure she's worried about," Ann laughed. "She just wants her titties sucked. Of course, I do too, " she finished, smiling sweetly.

Jeff put the last of the drinks into the refrigerator. After kissing the girls, he chidingly took each gently by her chin. "You two have already got my dick swelling, and I will never be able to teach with a hard-on. So, cool it for now. We'll make time for some loving after the class. Okay?"

"Yes, Husband," they chorused.

He gave each one a peck on the lips. "How was the test? Need I ask?"

"Oh, it was easy," Arlene responded, while Ann nodded her agreement.

"What about Jennie and Melissa? Where are they?" Before the girls could answer, Jeff continued. "Hey, you two didn't finish so quickly that they would be embarrassed, did you?"

"Oh, Husband!" the two girls erupted.

"You know us better than that, Dad?" Arlene got out. "Ann and I slowed down after the first couple of pages."

Ann broke in with, "They were about five minutes from finishing when we turned our answer sheets in. We wouldn't embarrass them by finishing way ahead of them. And we know better than to slow down too much, or deliberately miss some of the answers. That would be condescending, and they would pick up on it instantly. Besides, they're pretty sharp. Otherwise, they would never have been our friends all these years."

"What we did was believable, Dad. They're our sister wives. We would never hurt them."

"What about the 'nine forty-five' estimate Doctor Boswell mentioned? You two walked in here a little after nine twenty."

"I think Doctor Boswell looked a little shocked, don't you, Arlene?"

"Yeah," Arlene said, "like in shell shocked."

The girls looked at each other a moment, grinning. "Dad they were, more or less, standardized tests — you know — with the template that you can just put on top of the answer sheet to grade. When Doctor Boswell put the template on top of our test, you could see a black mark for each little hole in the template. Neither of us had to ask what we made," she giggled.

"I'll bet the next test is a lot harder," Ann mused.

Before Jeff could respond, the door flew open and Melissa and Jennie came in like a whirlwind. Jennie stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Don't you two ever do that again."

"Do what?" Arlene and Ann asked. But they were noticeably blushing.

"You know what." Melissa said. "You both did the slugabug routine. You could have been finished at least fifteen minutes sooner, probably more. We know you slowed down on tests in our old school so people wouldn't notice how really smart you are. But you don't have to do it here, especially to keep from hurting our feelings."

"Besides," Jennie broke in, "I think we came pretty close to acing it, too. Just not quite as quickly as you two."

Melissa and Jennie got a kiss from Jeff while he struggled to keep from laughing.

"You have time to go tinkle and take a break for a few minutes. Class doesn't start until ten," Jeff said.

The girls bounced out, giggling like teenagers. They knew their husband liked their antics, and their bounding titties.

Jeff carefully tried to draw a front and rear sight lined up on a target. Drawing the front sight in sharp focus wasn't hard, but trying to draw the rear sight and the target slightly out of focus was a bit more difficult. His buddy on the firing range used to do the drawing with chalk on a blackboard. The blue marker wasn't designed to draw soft edges as the chalk would. Eventually, using very light pressure, he managed to produce something that he thought might convey the message. The concept that the front sight must be in sharp focus, leaving the rear sight and the target slightly out of focus is sometimes difficult for a new shooter to understand. The eye cannot focus on three things at once. And hitting a small target wouldn't happen unless the shooter was focused on the front sight. A sharp focus on the front sight, at the expense of a somewhat blurry target and rear sight is necessary for truly accurate shooting with a handgun.

He had seen an excellent video of a pistol's sights lined up on a target. The front sight crystal clear and the target a little fuzzy, but he didn't have the video. His drawing would just have to do. Jeff was interrupted from his musings by the door opening. Boswell, seemingly carelessly, tossed the answer sheets on the table, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down. Glancing at Jeff, she said, "We have to talk."

Jeff opened the refrigerator, pulled out and opened a diet Coke. Relaxing in the chair at the head of the table, he took a sip. "Shoot." Glancing at the sight picture on the board, "Pun intended."

Ignoring his attempt at humor, she asked, "They told you what they did, didn't they?"

"No, not exactly," Jeff responded, drawing the word out, "Maybe you should just tell me, and then I'll tell you what they said."

Helen took a sip of coffee, and sighed. "The test has a two hour time limit, and really isn't designed to be finished in that length of time. I've used it quite a few times as a pretest for my gifted classes. It's pretty comprehensive. Math, a little physics and biology, history, English... it gives me a rough idea where the student is, education-wise, plus it is not a bad estimate of intelligence. Really gifted students may get two-thirds of the way through the test before time runs out."

Boswell stared at the table a moment, drumming her fingertips. Looking up at Jeff, she said, "Melissa and Jennie finished in an hour and a half — finished and open-ended test that none of my 'gifted' students ever completely finished before time ran out. They each missed one question."

"Hey, great," Jeff exclaimed, before being cut off by the wave of Boswell's hand.

"They missed the same question. And before you say anything, I know they didn't copy. They were too far apart, and I didn't take my eyes off them. None of them uttered a sound during the whole test. They could not have copied. It was a coincidence, but they even marked the same answer. Maybe they misunderstood the problem when they had it in their class, or something. They are both very intelligent."

"But still more interesting is that Arlene and Ann finished five minutes before Melissa and Jennie did, and they made perfect scores." Doctor Boswell tapped her nails against the table for a moment.

Jeff didn't say anything, just waited.

Taking another sip of coffee, Boswell caught Jeff's eye. "I really can't say when they actually finished the test. It took me a while to realize that they had slowed down, and still longer to realize that they were deliberately holding back to avoid embarrassing Jennie and Melissa."

"Jennie and Melissa scolded Arlene and Ann for doing just that. Then they all hugged each other and took off together."

Boswell's faced flushed for a moment. "I know there are lazy, and incompetent people in almost every field, but this happens to be my field. All four of those girls should have tested out of school at least a year ago — at least. Arlene and Ann should probably be in their Junior year in college, with Jennie and Melissa a year or so behind them. Someone in Georgia dropped the ball."

"More likely," Jeff sighed, "they just refused to pick it up. It would be a little extra work to test, and certify gifted students. Diana and I talked with the principal twice, at least, about advancing Arlene again, but he kept insisting it would not benefit her in the 'long run, ' — whatever that means."

Boswell finished her coffee and sat the cup down. Meeting Jeff's eye again, she said, "It's going to be looked on with suspicion when I test my four students out of a brand-new school. Particularly when the founder of said school is rich and one of the students is his daughter, and the other students live with him."

Before Jeff could interrupt, she continued, "But unlike the educators from their old school, I won't shirk my duty. I'm going to have a talk with the county school board soon. I've tested students out before, and none of them were nearly as smart as these girls. The board will just have to like it or lump it. If I am challenged, they will regret it."

Jeff didn't know what to say, and wisely didn't say anything. The lump in his throat precluded it, anyway.

Jeff drained the last of his Coke and tossed the bottle in the trash. "I used to have a friend who liked a phrase that I think fits really well right now. 'Just so we understand each other, '" Jeff grinned, and continued, "you won't be testing your way out of a job. I still want a tutor for Laura and Diana. And I want the girls' college courses right here as much as is at all possible. This is the age of technology and the information age, as I hear so often. On line — you teach them, whatever. I don't care. You're the professional. Just do it here. I've got the damn money, whatever it takes." Realizing he was almost ranting, he grinned to take the sting out of his words. "As Picard would say, 'make it so.'"

Helen burst out laughing. Leaving the room, she sniggered, "Aye, aye, Captain," and hurriedly closed the door before the towel that Jeff threw at her could connect.

Shortly before ten, all seven women filed into the conference room. Laura and Diana were carrying their cleaning trays. Jeff noted that their weapons were in their trays, ejection ports visible, slides locked open, and the empty magazines in the other side of the trays. Jeff grinned at them and winked. Looks like they remembered the range class rules.

When everyone had taken a seat, Jeff started lecturing on weapon safety, and range rules. "We don't have a range yet," he said, forestalling someone reminding him, "but we'll go over these rules every time we practice, until you know them, and can shoot under their guidelines without even thinking about it."

After finishing with the safety rules, he turned to Diana, "How about field stripping your weapon for me."

Diana smiled a little, picked up her weapon, trigger finger firmly on the frame away from the trigger, pointed the pistol at the floor and walked to the head of the table. Turning her weapon away from the class, doubled checking for a round in the chamber, she released the slide, then pulled the trigger. Jennie jumped when the firing pin made its distinctive snap.

Diana's mouth quirked, fighting a grin.

Jeff, fairly successfully, hid his smirk as well, "Almost every type of weapon has its own special, and sometimes, very distinctive way to be field stripped. On a Glock, you have to pull the trigger first. All the more reason to make certain that you haven't forgotten and left a round in the chamber." Nodding to Diana, "Continue, Hon."

Diana hooked her right thumb across the back strap with her fingers across the top of the slide. Pulling the slide back about a tenth of an inch, she simultaneously pulled down on the twin slide locks, then pushed the slide forward until it completely separated from the frame (receiver). Laying the frame on Jeff's towel, she then pushed forward on the spring assembly, and lifted the barrel and spring free, spreading the parts out on the towel for everyone to see.

As Diana turned toward her seat, Jeff said, deadpan, "Put it back together, please."

Diana smiled, picking up the barrel and spring assembly. She maneuvered the barrel into the slide, then putting the spring assembly in place, she pushed gently forward with her thumb until its rest engaged on the barrel lug. She moved the slide into the frame and worked the action twice, snapping the pistol each time. Satisfied, she locked the slide back. Out of habit (a good habit), she again double checked for a round in the chamber, then laid the pistol on the towel.

A professor and at least two teenagers were impressed — probably stunned.

"She is a little out of practice," Jeff joked. "It's probably been a year since we have gone shooting," he said, tongue-in-cheek, after a perfect demonstration by his wife.

Jennie and Melissa looked at each other.

Jeff patted Diana on the ass, thanked her, and told her to take her weapon back to her seat — then stood watching as she put a little extra sway into her hips as she resumed her place.

"Today we're going to field strip and reassemble the Glocks until everyone here can easily do it. Then we'll go through the same procedure on the Colt. After that we will talk about sight picture, grip, and trigger squeeze. A little dry fire until your trigger fingers get tired, and we'll call it a day for the weapons."

"Sometime during the next several days, we should have a rudimentary range installed, and pick up a weapon for those of you who don't already have one. I think we'll stick with the Glock 19's like Diana and Laura have. They are a little more compact than the standard model 17. They conceal a little better, but still shoot just as well. They will also fit your hands better than the larger frame of the 17, or other larger models would."

"How much are we... ?" Jennie started.

"Jennie, baby, I know you don't like guns — and are afraid of them, but unless I fail at this, you, and everyone else in this room will be an expert with a handgun. This training isn't going to be over in the foreseeable future. After the initial training, which should last two or three weeks, depending on how much time we can devote to it, then we will move into combat shooting. After the training is over, we will still fire at least a hundred rounds every day. When that son-of-a-bitch comes calling, he's leaving in a box, and my family will survive," Jeff avowed with so much emphasis that his words could almost be felt.

Diana sighed, then chuckled, "Baby, if you don't cut back a little on the intensity, there are going to be seven females on all fours with their pussies lifted as high as they can." Glancing down at her hard nipples, she added, "And I'm only half kidding."

Helen was afraid to look down to see how badly her own nipples were showing — they felt full-blown. She knew her face was flushed. Damn, I'm not his woman. And, I'm at least ten years older than he is. He isn't interested in me. I should be laughing at everyone else. But Diana's little joke painted a very vivid picture in my mind — and, I was in that picture with the others. I wonder if Diana realized when she said "seven," that she included me as well. I felt it when we were in the weight room — pheromones, I suppose, but what did he do just then? I've seen people with charisma before, I've even been told that I have very intense charisma, but like a candle compared to a searchlight, this is different.

At Jeff's nod, Diana started showing Jennie how to strip the Glock. Laura picked up on what Jeff wanted, and started working with Melissa and Helen.

"Come on Dad, Ann, and I can break the Glocks down in our sleep. Show us how to take down your .45."

-------

When the class was over a couple of hours later, Jeff put Melissa on one shoulder and Jennie on the other, and headed for the bedroom. He spent the next hour gently making love to them. Ann and Arlene wiped their faces with a damp washcloth to revive them enough to get into the shower. They were still a little out of it when they sat down to eat a late lunch a few minutes later, but they knew they had been rewarded for their participation in the class.

Jennie leaned over and stage whispered to Melissa, "If he keeps doing that to me, I'll shoot that stupid gun all day."

Melissa grinned, as did everyone else, "Me, too."

Jeff just had to say it, "Most police academies have a minimum of five, eight-hour days of firearms training, plus nightfire. Some have three times that. And that's just to get started."

"Nightfire?" Melissa said, stopping with a fork full of food halfway to her mouth. "Are we going to have to shoot in the dark?"

"Well, not exactly. Mostly, it's called 'low light' fire. But if there is enough light to see a silhouette, you will be able to shoot it. Remember, I told you about the tritium paint: the three dot system the Glocks have. At night, the three white dots show up as three glowing green dots, that make it ridiculously easy to shoot in low light. You won't be able to see the outline of black target sights, but the tritium dots do just as well, or better. Just line up the dots, like I taught you in class, smooth trigger pull, firm grip, and the pistol will do the rest. Night sights don't come standard, but the gun shop can put them on in a few minutes."

"Also," Jeff continued, "these Glocks have had 'action jobs' that make the trigger pull a little lighter, and a whole lot smoother. Plus there is a nice crisp 'break' to the trigger that you will learn to love. Also, there have been other adjustments made to help the weapon to shoot a tighter group."

"We'll spend the first couple of weeks learning to shoot correctly, using that nice, smooth trigger squeeze we talked about and practiced in class. But trigger squeeze usually won't cut it in combat, unless you're a sniper of course," he said with a grin. "But a handgun shooter generally can't take that long to get a round off. However, using that same smooth, trigger squeeze speeded way up, you can wind up firing a couple of rounds a second, at close targets, and still stay away from trigger jerk. We're going to be firing a lot of rounds, and doing a lot of practice."

"Practice makes perfect," Jennie said, smiling.

"Not to be an ass, Baby, but as far as becoming an expert shooter, that's generally very wrong." At Jennie's look, he continued, "Perfect practice — at least as near perfect as we can make it — makes perfect. My buddy, Frank, who has been an instructor for years, told me about several guys that shot a lot, but had never progressed past being just fair shooters. They used the same sloppy technique over and over, never getting any better. They were practicing, but practicing bad technique. I'm going to try to teach you the same way that he taught me. If we don't progress like I think we should, I'll fly his ass out here for a few weeks, and let him teach you."

"We'll learn, Jeff," Melissa said. "If you want us to be experts, we'll be experts."

Jeff smiled and winked at her.

Helen cleared her throat. "If it's okay with you Jeff, I've got another set of tests for the girls. Would four this afternoon be okay with everyone?"

When everyone agreed, "Well, as soon as we finish lunch and get things cleaned up, I've got several things to do..."

"We'll clean up," Diana and Arlene said in perfect unison.

"Come on people, I'm part of this family now. You keep telling me that. Part of the cleanup duty is mine, too."

Diana laughed. "You'll get plenty of cleanup time, but we haven't got anything to do, and you do. Now scat. Go do whatever you need to do."

Helen laughed, rinsed her plate, and headed back to her apartment.



-------

Chapter 6

The contractor drove up as Jeff was finishing his walkdown just after daylight. Eyeing the big trailer with the tractor sitting on it, Jeff waited until Dave had gotten out of the vehicle. "That rig is pretty long. Did you have any trouble with the driveway?"

Dave propped his foot on the bumper to retie the laces on one of his work-boots. "There was one curve where I had to back up and do a bit of jigging, but it wasn't bad. I've done it before. I went ahead and used the smaller of my dump trucks to pull the tractor trailer. I pull it a lot of the time with my big pickup, but not up that driveway. Hell, I've been up it a thousand times I guess, while we were building the convention center, but I still respect it. One mistake and you're toast, so I chose a truck I knew would easily handle the tractor and trailer on a steep slope."

"I don't blame you. Hey, I'll bet the driveway cut down on the sightseers while you were building the place," Jeff said, grinning as he checked out the posthole digger attached to the tractor.

Laces tied, Dave paused for a second. "I never really thought about that. But now that you mention it, we didn't have as many rubberneckers as we usually have, particularly with the job taking as long as this one did."

Dave turned back for the cab. "Hop in Mr. Matthews, you can ride out with me and show me exactly where you want the holes for the target frames." As Jeff got in the truck with Dave, the contractor continued, "I got my welder to do a little work yesterday. I hope you don't mind, but even though you're in a hurry for the range, I've made some changes. I got a friend of mine to let me check out the county range setup. They use a turning system that consists of a welded frame that looks like a 'T, ' with the holes for your two by two's on the ends of the wings of the 'T.' The center spike of the 'T' fits into the concrete, and it's a simple process to add a turning mechanism later on.

"Your wooden target frames just drop into the holes at the end of the wings just like you had originally suggested they do in the concrete. We made up ten stations. Heck, now we only have to drill ten holes instead of twenty. I hope you don't mind the changes. The range will be much better when we're done."

Jeff looked at Dave with new respect. "Actually, that's the way the outdoor range was set up in Georgia. I was just trying to make a 'get by' sort of thing, thinking that we would never need a turning target."

(Note to reader: This is a system where the targets are turned parallel to the shooters — edgeways. Instead of the command to fire, the targets all turn square to the shooters at the same time, initiating the beginning of the firing sequence. When time is up, the targets then snap back edgeways, signaling the end of firing.)

When they got to the designated area, they got out of the truck. As the contractor fished out some stakes, cord, and a flat-headed hammer, Jeff said, "Since you're improving on my sloppy design, we might as well put in the system of turning targets. Of course that doesn't have to be done now, but it will probably be nice in the weeks to come when we start working on combat shooting."

"Just about there for the first one," Jeff said, pointing.

Dave drove in the first stake and attached the cord. "Straight out this way?" he asked, feeding out the string as he walked away.

"Yeah, that looks good. Just make it so the targets face in the general direction of the house. That way we'll be shooting directly away from the house, which should cut down on the sound some. As far away as we are, we shouldn't even be able to hear it inside."

"We're almost level here," Dave said. "It won't take a lot to shoot a level and smooth it off with the tractor." After driving in the stake, he turned to Jeff. "I thought you might want some turning targets sooner or later, so I took the liberty of getting the name of the equipment company the county uses. We can get them to send us a catalogue so you can pick out what you want. They also offer a sort of trolley system that pulls a target across the range."

"Shooting at a moving target will add a lot to the training," Jeff agreed. "But first, I've got to teach two of them to shoot, period. Melissa and Jennie had never picked up a gun before this started, and they're both scared to death of them. Once they get use to shooting, they will probably get a kick out of shooting at a moving target. Diana is an excellent shot, and has even shot a little competition. Arlene and Laura have shot a good bit, as well, and Ann has, to a lesser degree. Doctor Boswell has shot a rifle, and hunted, but very little with a handgun. I'll call and get the catalogue. Once everyone is shooting competently, moving targets will spice up the training."

Dave fished out a scrap of paper with a name and phone number on it and handed it to Jeff.

"I appreciate your taking the time, particularly your off time, to get this set up right. The range I shot at in Georgia had turning targets. I was just going to do something quick. I'm so damn worried about this guy that I told you about, that I guess I'm trying to push things too much."

The contractor was kneeling, his hammer raised to drive in a stake. He stopped and looked up at Jeff. "I told my guys about this shithead, and you can bet they will be on the lookout for him. You and your family have been both good to us and very generous, as well. Do you think you could get us a picture of these two? Hell, we'll post it on the wall at the shop. I'll make photocopies and plaster their pictures on all my job sites. If he comes around any of my people, they'll let me know in a heartbeat."

"How many job sites do you have?" Jeff asked as they walked back toward the truck.

"I've got eight right now. None of them are very big." Knowing what Jeff was probably thinking, Dave added, "I've downsized considerably since we built the conference center, and even then, I subcontracted the bigger steel work to an outfit that had the necessary equipment."

Dave yelled and waved to two of his crew that had just pulled up behind the house. When he had their attention, he motioned for them to come to where he was standing.

"I'm going to get out of here and let you get your men started. When you can spare a few minutes, come to the kitchen. Diana said that she and the girls were going to bake homemade doughnuts this morning just after breakfast, and you and I need to talk."

Dave glanced at his watch. It's six twenty now. "It will take two or three hours before I can break for any length of time. Then I'll be there. Doughnuts sound great."

Jeff agreed, and walked back toward the house, greeting the two workers as they passed him. At the kitchen, he pushed the door instead of banging it open. Helen looked up from her paperwork and grinned at him. "Don't tell me you are going to stop slapping that door open. I was just beginning to get use to it," she teased.

"Have you got the coffee made, Teacher?" he laughed.

"Most definitely, Mr. Alpha Male."

Jeff got a cup, filled it, and mock-glared at her. She just smiled sweetly. Sitting down at the other end of the table, so, hopefully, the smell of his sweat wouldn't be too noticeable, he asked, "What's with the paperwork?"

Doctor Boswell made a show of sniffing the air. "Had a hard run, huh?" she asked, grinning. Both of them broke out laughing.

"Alright, alright," Jeff choked out, "you've gigged me enough this early in the morning. How did the girls do on the test yesterday afternoon?" he asked, although the girls had already told him they had aced the test.

Helen put her papers down, took a sip of coffee, then still holding the cup with both hands in front of her, she glanced at Jeff. "Better than any students I've ever had in my whole career. I don't want to push them so much that they become discouraged, though. What I've decided to do is give them books on a subject, let them study them for a week or two, then when they say they are ready, test them. If all goes the way I think it will, a couple of months from now — or less — we'll have four girls in college. I think, I know,  that Arlene and Ann could do it quicker than that, but the firearms training will slow us down considerably." As Jeff started to say something, she set her cup down and waved her hand in a negative gesture to him. "That wasn't a derogatory comment. Just a statement of fact. And believe me, if the sergeant thinks that idiot is coming after us, I'm more than willing to spend some time learning to shoot a handgun."

-------

A little after nine, the contractor knocked on the kitchen door. A chorus of "come in" greeted him.

Jeff motioned him to sit with him at the big kitchen table. Arlene had a cup of coffee in front of him by the time he had settled into his chair.

Diana finished pouring glaze on six doughnuts resting on a wire rack she had put them on after taking them out of the deep fryer. She slid them onto a platter and set them in front of Dave. "Looks like your timing is good, Dave. Dig in while they're hot."

Dave knew damn well that it was her timing, not his, that was good. He would bet that she pulled those doughnuts out of the grease when she saw him walking toward the house on the security camera. These people are class. Hell, I'm even beginning to like their Georgia accents. It's not a southern drawl like in the movies, but there is just a hint there that makes it nice to listen to them talk, particularly the women.

The contractor tried never to stare at the women, at least to not get caught doing it, and he harped at his men, "Watch your eyes. If they speak to you, don't talk to their tits," he repeatedly told them. But it was hard to keep his own eyes from drifting as Diana's leaned over and put the doughnuts in front of him.

"Thank you Ma'am," he said with a nod.

"Oh, so formal," Diana teased, as she grinned and walked away.

Dave took a doughnut and shoved the platter toward Jeff, who for some reason, chuckled. Within a couple of minutes, Diana set a fresh platter in front of Jeff, and moved the original platter back in front of Dave, restocked. Now Dave knew why Jeff had laughed. He knew that Diana meant for each of them to have a platter full. Shit I can't eat six of these things. Particularly, as big as they are. Hell, they're delicious, but if I fill up now, I'll want to take a nap instead of going back to work.

Dave finished the first doughnut and took a sip of coffee just as Ann put a big glass of ice-cold milk beside him — the glass itself was frosted and so cold that he knew it had been in the freezer until she poured the milk into it. Smiling at him, she said, "Sometime milk goes really good with fresh doughnuts. Helen set a glass in front of Jeff at the same time."

Dave smiled back at her. "You people are going to kill me. But I'm going to die happy."

"Eat up," Jeff said, "you can handle a few extra pounds."

Shortly, there were two more platters of doughnuts on the table and all the women sat down with them, including Doctor Boswell.

"Okay," Jeff said. "Family meeting. And Helen, I'm glad we didn't have to twist your arm to get you to stay this time."

Boswell tipped her coffee cup at him, smiling, but didn't say anything.

Dave looked perplexed. What am I doing at their family meeting?

Answering Dave's unspoken question, Jeff said, "And yes, it involves you Dave." Glancing around the table, he began, "Diana and I have briefly discussed some aspects of this, but not in any detail. And Dave, so you will understand, we decide, at least the main things concerning our household, in our family meetings. Sometimes, they are rather informal. We had one to decide whether we wanted Doctor Boswell," he continued, grinning at Helen. It took only a glance around the room, eye contact and a slight nod. One hundred percent in ten seconds. If it hadn't been one hundred percent, she wouldn't be here."

Jeff winked at her and she smiled back at him. "Now to today's agenda." Jeff paused, took a sip of coffee, then glanced around the table, his eyes coming to rest on Dave. "I going to mention some things about our family today that must remain in this room. You have earned our respect and trust, just as you did Frank Wainwright's. Obviously he was the one that recommended you to me in the beginning."

The contractor glanced at the women, then back to Jeff, wondering what was coming next.

Jeff continued, "We appreciate the excellent quality of your work. I've checked this house, the wiring, plumbing, foundations (what I can see of them), the wind generators, the solar setup on the roof, the backup systems, hell, everything. Not to mention the lab you built, or the changes in our suite. And everything is top notch. Nothing was skimped, nothing shoddy. Recently, I had a long talk with Frank, and one of the vice presidents that were in charge of getting the convention center built. They both said, that even though you did, indeed, subcontract some of the big work, you had your hand in everything. They also related a couple of instances where you refused the subs work, made them tear it down and do it right. Frank said he doubled your bonus when the job was done because of the combination of things I just mentioned."

Jennie realized that Dave's cup was empty. Quietly, she got up and refilled it, topping Jeff's off as well.

Jeff smiled his thanks at her. "We came into a lot of money a couple of months ago when I sold some of my patents to an invention. I also had a bit of luck with investments, thanks to a genus I hired to manage part of our money. We could just let the money sit. We could blow it on useless things just so everyone would know we're rich. But Laura, Diana and I have had to work very hard from the time we were in our teens. Our girls haven't had it very easy, either. We're basically use to not having a lot, but now we can have practically anything we want. None of us want a fleet of half million dollar cars, and we don't use drugs. So what do we spend our money on?

"You're an intelligent person Dave, and you've been around us a lot lately. We're not your average family under any description I can think of. I'm sure you had suspicions before, but after remodeling that suite with multiple stalls in the bathroom, and multiple vanity sinks, you would have to be rather more than dense to not know what is going on. Bluntly, these are my women, and I'm their man. I am responsible for them. This thing with Hagewood has just emphasized other things that I have been thinking about. Our country is in turmoil, hell, the world is in turmoil. Some idiot could drive a van across the border from Mexico any day with a nuclear device in it. Some penny ante dictator could release a virus that would kill half the population of the world. Anyone that thinks Homeland Security is doing anything constructive to stop things like that... well, I hope they're right. But I think it's a big hope.

"Like I said, Diana and I have talked a little about what we could do to keep our family safe, both from the Hagewood threat, and a nuclear or catastrophic event of some other nature. I.e., a safe area well underground with supplies to last for an extended period of time. This would be a big enough project, not to mention the ones you already have on the drawing board, to occupy you exclusively for the next couple of years. I want — we want, quality, and a level-headedness that you have already exemplified."

"You're talking about an underground safe room?"

"No. I'm talking about an underground fortress, if you will, with a large area, many rooms, and everything that we would need to withstand a nuclear or viral/bacterial holocaust. Oh, I don't mean a direct hit, but I do mean that if Denver and a dozen other cities in the US were hit, that we could survive."

Dave sat his coffee cup down. "Shit Jeff. I don't know. I've never done anything like that before. It would call for a lot of specialty equipment, heck, I don't even know enough about it to know what I don't know," he laughed. You probably need some really big construction outfit..."

"No," Jeff cut him off. "You do."

"What... ?"

"I want you to boss it. Hire the companies you need — run the thing. My family and I will rough out the basic design, then we'll find an architect and let him hire the structural engineer, or whomever he needs to complete the design. Plus we want your practical input for every step of the process. When the design is done, you build it."

"Shit," Dave whispered, not noticing either slip in front of the women.

The girls looked at each other, their eyes big. Everyone started talking at the same time. Jeff picked up another doughnut, sat back and leisurely took a bite. Diana looked at her husband, and slow-winked. "I think you got their attention, Husband."

Dave took a sip of coffee. Jeff noted that the contractor's hand wasn't quite as steady as it had been.

For a few seconds, there was quiet. Dave cleared his throat and glanced back at Jeff. As he started to say something, Jeff spoke up. "Dave, I want to hire you for the duration. You can still use your company to do any of the work here that you want to, and hire other outfits to do the rest. You can hire all the people, professional and otherwise, that you think you need. We will start an account with your name on it, and put enough money in it so you'll know we're serious. The salary will be substantial, and again, when you're done, you will still have your company.

"All in favor of Dave supervising the building of our fortress, raise your hands."

Stunned, Dave watched everyone immediately raise their hand. Diana slid her chair back and walked around the table, stopping beside Dave. "Stand, please," she simply said.

When he scrambled to his feet, she hugged him. All the other women quickly followed suit. "Well, that makes it official," Jeff laughed. "Now, all you have to do is say yes."

Dave sat back down, and the women went back to the other side of the kitchen to continue their doughnut production line. "Jeff, I've got to think about this. And talk to my wife. She's at least half the reason I'm where I am today. She's my partner, and my best friend. She needs to be involved in this..."

"Two hundred a year," Jeff said, deadpan.

"Two hund..." Dave started to say, and stopped, his face turning red.

"Plus whatever profit your company makes on the job, of course. And a furnished vehicle of your choice, and all expenses. And the best fucking health care you could ever imagine."

The contractor just sat for a moment staring at his cup. "I'd be a fool not to say yes. But, again, my wife is my partner. Just as you have your family meetings, neither of us makes a major life decision without consulting the other. Can I bring my wife over to meet you people?"

"We wouldn't have it any other way. But brief her on our lifestyle, if you haven't already. When your crew is here, the women are... less assertive. But now that you know, any one of them might sit in my lap, or kiss me without really thinking. I don't want to shock your wife, or make her think we're a bunch of perverts, or anything."

Dave grinned. "Damn, what a problem to have."

Jeff motioned for Diana. When she walked over and sat in his lap, he caught Dave's eye for a second. Dave nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Baby, Dave needs to bring his wife over to meet us before making his final decision..."

Diana spun around in Dave's direction. "Great! We haven't had company since we moved in. How about tomorrow night for dinner?"

Dave looked perplexed for a second. "Uh, I'm a working man. Please don't do anything fancy. I just want her to meet everybody. I've told her a lot about you, and she's already said something about meeting you."

"Okay," Diana said, with a mock pout. "How about grilling some steaks, maybe around the pool, or on one of the patios?"

"That sounds great, she loves to swim."

"Does she know the way up here?"

"Sure. She's driven up here a number of times when we were building the conference center."

"Great," Diana said, "Why don't you have her meet you here around six o'clock. Just bring a change of clothes and your bathing suit when you come to work tomorrow. You can shower and change here. We'll make sure your wife has a ball, if we possibly can. What's her name?"

"Evie."

Diana got up to go tell everyone about Evie coming to check them out.

"Get set, Dave. My wife never does anything half way. Oh, they won't dress up, or do anything like that. They'll be in shorts and tops, or bathing suits, once we're at the pool. But you can bet that bunch of women," he said, with a nod in the direction of the woman-huddle on the other side of the kitchen, "will come up with a class act to try and woo your wife into being comfortable in working for me. Just grin and bear it. It's the easiest way. They'll wind up doing it, anyway."

Dave sat for a moment. "Two hundred a year and expenses is very generous. I..."

"As soon as you agree, I'll get you on the phone with my accountant, and you can tell him how you want your pay."

"But we haven't even started on the school rooms, yet. And the range will take another couple of days, and we need to build a rough shelter..."

"So? Your salary will start when you agree to work for me. You make a little profit out of your company at the same time. Big deal. Bring another crew in when they finish one of your other jobs, and start on the indoor range. As your other jobs finish up, cycle the crews out here. If we're running behind with the planning and architect, just set your crews up on another one of your regular jobs. Eventually, you will probably have most of your people working here for the next several years."

"My wife works up a lot of the jobs, even bids on them a lot of the time. I think that would work, and I wouldn't have to let my company go..."

A little later Dave and the women were headed back to the outdoor firing range with enough homemade doughnuts, coffee and cold milk to stuff the eight men, twice over.

Jeff picked up another doughnut and took a bite. Now if UPS will just bring my updates from Wainwright, Inc., maybe we can add to our security before Dickwad decides to show up. Uhmmm. I need to think about something to show appreciation to the UPS guy. Every time I thank him, he just says that it's his job, grins and hauls ass. But instead of leaving things that will fit in the big box at the end of the drive, which would be a lot more convenient for him, he brings everything to the back door, anyway. Heck, he won't light long enough to drink a cup of coffee and eat a doughnut. Come Christmas though, he's going to get a nice gift.

-------

As soon as they came through the back door, Arlene turned to the other girls, "Come on. Let's give the game room a workout. We won't have much time to play after school starts." After general agreement, they all went to the kitchen for drinks to carry with them, then headed for the game room.

Diana, Laura and Doctor Boswell found Jeff in the living room staring out through the glass wall. Hearing them, he turned as they approached. Boswell cleared her throat, and hesitantly said, "Jeff, I... want to thank you for including me..."

"Including you? Oh, you mean in the family meeting?"

"Well, yes... that too. But I actually meant..."

"Oh, the remark about my women. I hope I didn't embarrass you too much. I just wanted to get the point across to Dave that I was responsible for everyone."

Helen could feel her face heating. "Jeff, I, uhmp..." she said, talking into Jeff's mouth, as he suddenly put his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her. He put the other hand into the small of her back and pulled her to him, kissing her with all he had. After about ten seconds, he pulled his mouth from hers as she shivered and swayed against him, her breasts pushing into his chest.

"Finish her, Jeff," Diana said in a husky voice. "Don't leave her like that. Finish her."

Jeff looked at Diana for a second, then tilted Helen's head back and locked his mouth to hers. With one hand again on the back of her neck, he trailed the fingers of his other hand up the inside of her thigh, then capped his hand over her pussy through her shorts. Boswell tensed up, but he pushed his tongue past her lips. After gently moving his hand on her sex, he trailed a finger up the center of her pussy, hoping to hit her clit. The fourth time with the finger and she squealed into his mouth, bucked her pussy against his hand, and violently shivered. After ten or fifteen seconds, she slumped against him again, her mouth pulling from his as she buried her face in his chest, her breath ragged, occasional aftershocks shivering her body.

They stood for a while with Jeff holding her. Laura and Diana glanced at each other, then took Helen's arms, leading her to one of the recliners, the good doctor obviously dazed. "Go away for a little while, Husband," Laura said, her eyes sending her love to him. "We've got some girl talk to do. She'll be just fine." Before Jeff turned away, she mouthed, "You did good."

Now why in the heck did I do that? One minute I was standing there and the next I was kissing her. But, shit, I didn't expect her to act that way. What am I supposed to do now? Glancing back at the women as he left the room, he figured he had better be somewhere else like Laura said. Maybe I'll go watch the girls play video games. At least if I mess with one of them, I'll be doing it with a wife.

When Jeff was out of the room, Helen sighed and relaxed. "I hope I didn't..."

"Hush, Helen," Diana admonished. "You didn't do anything."

Helen weakly laughed, and sighed. "Didn't do anything? I came like a schoolgirl the first time she found her clitoris. He kissed me and I almost came. I think I would have if he had kissed me for a little longer. When he put his hand on me, it was... the most intense orgasm I've had since... Oh, I am so embarrassed.

"Beats the heck out of a vibrator, doesn't he?" Laura said, grinning.

"And, its about time he helped you out a little," Diana commented. "With all the sex that goes on around here, you had to be on edge all of the time. We're tickled that he finally did it. Now tell us what it was like..."

When Helen had told her side of her little adventure with Jeff, she excused herself to go take a shower, which produced more giggles from all three of them.

Inside her apartment, when she dropped her shorts and pulled down her panties, they were wet in the front. I got wet in the theater, now my panties are wet from Jeff masturbating me, or whatever he did to me. I've never felt a feeling like that. Holding her panties up, the front soaked, she thought, Older women don't lubricate this much. I wonder if it's the healer, or if it is just from being around Jeff?

Still almost befuddled, she showered, her mind awhirl. Afterward, as she stood in front of the full-length mirror inspecting her face, she pushed a fingertip against the bottom of her chin. Am I imagining things? Maybe, I'm just wishing, but the skin on my face does seem to be more taut. Is there less sag?

Stepping back and turning to the side, she scrutinized her breasts. My nipples aren't precisely horizontal, they still point downward a little bit, but they're definitely up from the last time I checked. The last four or five years has been a slow, but steady, trip downward. Now they point almost straight out. Jeff could make a few million out of that little box — the first year.

Boswell turned back toward the mirror. Rising to the tips of her toes, she bounced her breasts. A lot less sag. And they bounce almost like they did twenty years ago. I've picked up some jiggle as well. Yes, Jeff, you could definitely make some serious money with your healer. Not to say anything about saving my life. Thank you, Jeff.

Shrugging, she slipped on fresh panties and dressed.

-------

At about eleven, the front doorbell rang. The security camera automatically locked onto the front door image. "Drive on around to the back. I'll meet you there," Jeff told the delivery man on the PA.

When the truck got around to the back, Jeff told the driver to back as close to the door as he could. The women already had the door locked open, as well as the door to their new suite.

The company didn't stint on help. They sent three people to assemble the bed. Two hours later, they were rolling down the drive, munching on homemade doughnuts, hardly noticing the abyss after pocketing their tips. They agreed that if there was ever another delivery from their company to this address, they were going to be the ones to make it.

'Diana, I don't think I'm even going to ask what you paid for this thing," Jeff remarked as the women finished making up the bed.

"You don't like it?" she teased.

"Oh, heck yes I like it," he quickly answered, knowing he could get in over his head with the wrong comment.

"Good. You should. Your harem now has plenty of room to make love to their master."

Jeff leaned over and kissed her, hard. She smiled her special smile for him, and he figured he had aced that one.

Diana stepped back and looked at the bed. "We picked the bed out of a catalogue, but it was custom made to our size specifications. I bought ten sets of sheets, an assortment of spreads, and of course the comforter that's on it now."

Laura poked Jeff in the ribs. "And you can't throw us down on the comforter, unless you want to send it to the cleaners every time we spill out that half cup that you pump into us."

Diana sighed. "Yeah, I guess, even though it's beautiful, we'll have to use the spreads most of the time. He isn't known to take time to turn the bed down before fucking us senseless. Even our commercial washers won't take that comforter."

Diana glanced at Helen, whose face was red. "Sorry, Helen. I guess we've done it again."

Helen giggled. "I'm not embarrassed. I was just thinking about the people at the cleaners. If they keep getting that comforter with a big stain on it, they will figure out what is causing it sooner or later. I can imagine their comments," she sniggered. "I can just see some guy sniffing it."

Somehow all the women thought that was hilarious. Jeff couldn't quite see the humor of some guy smelling his cum, but the laughter of the women caught on, and he did grin a little.

"And when do we try it out, Daddy?" from Arlene.

"Ah, yes, I guess it's about time for me to find something to do," Doctor Boswell said as she turned to go.

Jeff laughed and grabbed her arm. "Not now, Helen. We'll try it out tonight. Right now, we need to head out for the gun dealer. I gave him a call the first thing this morning. He has enough 19's to get us started, and he will have the tritium sights installed on them by the time we get there. He's going to put sights on the other 19's as soon as they come in, then do the action jobs. When he's through, we'll take the guns we have back for him to work on them."

"Are you saying that everyone will have two," Diana asked.

"Yeah, nothing like having a spare. We're going to put a lot of rounds through these weapons, and although they're reliable pistols, if something breaks or goes wrong, I want a backup ready."

Getting all their attention, he said, "Okay, everybody do what you have to do, and let's roll as soon as we can. We've got a lot to do today. We can eat at a burger joint or something on the way there."

"Jeff, I don't need to go do I? I mean..."

"Helen, until this thing resolves itself, our family stays together — always. And we go armed. Tomorrow we go to the county Sheriff's department and get Diana and Laura's gun permits transferred out here, or whatever we have to do to get them a local carry permit. You said you had a permit, right?"

At Helen's nod, he continued. "The girls are too young to get a permit, but I'm going to have a talk with the Sheriff about that, anyway. Maybe he has some thoughts on the subject. I know that the sergeant has already talked to him about these thugs. Permit or not, everyone is going to be armed as soon as I can get our firearms training up to speed."

Turning to Diana, he continued. "We'll check at the gun shop to see what he has in the line of purses like yours. If they don't have one like yours, we'll get on the net and order one for each of you."

At Helen's raised eyebrow, Diana said, "My big purse has a holster built into the middle. The gun slips inside and you can't even see it, but you can push your hand into the end of the purse and pull the pistol out without opening the purse. Nobody will ever know you have a gun in the purse, unless they pick it up and notice how heavy it is."

"Show her Mom," from Arlene.

Diana went to the closet and brought back her big purse, took her Glock out of the drawer and pushed it into the end of the purse.

"That's neat," Melissa said.

"Okay, let move, ladies. We'll stop in Winter Park for a cup of coffee and a burger, then have a late lunch in Denver after we're done with the gun shop, if that's okay with everybody."

-------

A few hours later, they made John, the gun store owner, a very happy camper. Mentally, he was thanking his lucky stars that he had done Jeff the favor of letting him ship his guns from Georgia to the store.

"Sorry I had only fourteen cases of nines and four of the forty-fives. But I can get the rest of the ammo in a few days. I did manage to get the night sights on the 19's though, and as soon as the others come in, I'll get my man to work on them. Are you sure you don't want to leave your other guns here for me to sell."

"That was my original intention," Jeff said, "but I've changed my mind. I'm also going to need a couple of cases of ammo for each of the rifle calibers, as well as the revolvers. And order me five more boxes of the dummy rounds. They tend to get chewed up cycling through all the time."

"Okay, John said, scribbling notes."

As they were talking, the gunsmith came out with Diana and Laura's Glocks. Both women checked out the night sights and seemed to be pleased.

After Jeff checked out the weapons, and nodded his approval, he turned back to the owner. "Since it's a rather large order, do you need me to pay for it now?"

"Oh, no," John said. "You've already paid for the 19's, the sight installations, the ammo you got today, and the action jobs. You can just pay me when you pick the rest of the stuff up, unless you want me to drop ship the ammo to your place? Your FFL license will take care of that."

Jeff though for a moment. "No. It's a little more hassle picking it up myself, but I think I had rather do it that way. We can pick up a load each week as we come into town."

A few minutes later as they started to get into the vehicles at the loading dock in the back of the store, Laura said, "I guess you didn't want the truck coming out to the house because of what is going on with Hagewood?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, pulling the last of the tie-downs into position. "The less traffic coming out to our house the better, as far as I'm concerned. Unless Hagewood is a complete idiot, he isn't just going to drive up and say 'here I am.' That would make it too easy."

"I saw you put your .45 in your belt under your shirt when you went out to meet the delivery people."

"I hope I'm being paranoid. But... I don't think I am."

Everybody piled into their vehicles. After a nice restaurant and a little shopping, they put Denver behind them. A little while later Jeff's radio crackled as Arlene keyed the mike. "Dad, how about stopping at the ice cream place?"

There was a chorus of "yes" from the three riding with him. We just ate, not more than two hours ago. Shopping must really work up an appetite fast,  he laughed to himself. Well, teenagers are notorious for appetites — well, at least boys are. But his girls weren't far behind. He keyed the mike and agreed. Damn, it's nice to have a harem,  he thought, looking over at the beautiful young woman sitting beside him. Yeah, life is good.



-------

Chapter 7

When they got back to the house, someone said, "I've got to pee," and that set off the rest of the women. Shortly, Jeff was by himself. Laughing, he backed the truck into the right corner of the garage where he was going to stack the ammunition. By the time he had the tarp off and the tailgate down, everyone came running back. Jennie and Arlene got in the truck bed and began struggling with the cases of ammo.

"Hey, ladies. Just slide it onto the tailgate. I'll unload it. This stuff is far too heavy for you to lift."

Diana smiled at him and nodded to Laura. They paired up on a case that the girls had moved to the tailgate and carried the ammo to the corner where Jeff was stacking his. The others paired up, with Jennie and Arlene continuing to slide the boxes to the back of the truck. The women wound up managing to carry a few more cases than Jeff did. He griped a little, and said they shouldn't hurt themselves. But everyone could tell he was proud of them. Among the eight people, the truck was quickly unloaded, the ammo sorted by caliber, and the rifles and Jeff's original guns were stored near the ammo.

Jeff put a case of 9 mm, a case of .45, and half dozen boxes of 9 mm dummy rounds on the handtrucks along with all the magazines the gun store had for the Glocks and Colt.

"Where are you going with that, Husband?" Jennie asked, as she took over the handtrucks.

"Inside the house," Jeff said. "But I think that's a bit much for you."

Arlene grabbed hold to help, and the two started toward the house. Jeff just gave up and watched. They had probably never pushed a two-wheel hand truck before, but they soon figured out the balance, and their teamwork. Before they were halfway, they had it rolling smoothly. When they got to the house and began trying to get the trucks up the steps, Jeff called out, "Wait up," as he jogged over to help.

Once they got up the steps and through the door, they stopped, "Where do you want this stuff?" Arlene asked.

Jeff thought for a second. "I want a box of 9 mm and a box of .45, paired and hidden around the first and second floors, along with two loaded magazines for each type weapon." Before anyone could say anything, he continued, "If we should get into a confrontation, I want weapons, extra loaded magazines and ammunition hidden throughout the house. We can't go around wearing guns all the time, but I want them handy until this thing is settled."

Nodding to Arlene, "Since you two have started with it, hide a box of each, everywhere you can think of, then load the magazines and put them with the extra ammo. Write down where you put each cache, so we can all memorize the locations."

Arlene looked at him and grinned, "Okay, Dad." Bracing her foot against the bottom of the handtrucks, she pulled back on the handle as Jennie helped her get the load balanced, then they were off again.

"I'll get something to write on," Ann volunteered as she took off for the kitchen.

"Drop the dummy rounds off in the conference room where we had our class," Jeff yelled after them.

"We knew that," Jennie yelled back as they rounded the corner.

"Well, I guess that was a bit condescending on my part," Jeff muttered to himself, as Diana poked him in the ribs.

Melissa pulled the truck out while Helen closed and locked the garage doors. Melissa parked the vehicle where Jeff usually kept it, then ran on into the house to catch up with the other girls.

Laura and Diana got the boxes of 19's out of the Escalade. Jeff started to tell Diana to put the pistols in the conference room, but thought better of it at the last moment. Grinning, he followed them into the house. Amid the bustle, Jeff thought, I hope someone remembers to fix dinner.

When everything was inside, Jeff walked out to the range to see what the contractor had gotten done.

When he got there, it was obvious that the crew had a busy day. All the "T" frames were set in concrete, although it was still wet. They had put wooden braces to hold the frames in place while the cement set. Apparently, Dave had wound up moving a lot more dirt than he had first thought. Looking around, Jeff realized that the contractor had moved the target line down about twenty-five yards. Apparently, he had decided to make it a fifty yard range. He had removed dirt for the seven-yard line, and had marked off the others.

I told him to use his own judgment and do what he thought was best. I almost told him to make it a fifty yard range to begin with. I was just trying to get by with something quick. I'm glad he took me at my word and is doing it the right way.

Jeff stood by one of the frames and sighted across the others. They're perfectly lined up. If this is a rush job, I wonder what it would look like if he took his time,  Jeff mused. This guy is class.

Later, Jeff had just sat down in the living room when Helen walked in with a Coke for him. After handing him the glass and drink, she leaned over and kissed him hard, though for only a couple of seconds. When their lips parted, "Thank you for what you did, Jeff."

Their eyes locked with her still leaning over with her face close to his, "My pleasure, m'e Lady," he answered with an atrocious Old English accent.

Helen turned and pranced out of the room, putting a little extra sway to her hips, her nipples popped and leading the way.

When she entered the kitchen to help with dinner, Arlene looked up from setting the table. Grinning, "Been around Dad, lately?" she teased, nodding toward Doctor Boswell's headlights.

Boswell's face turned crimson. Knowing that everyone must have been told about the orgasm Jeff had given her, she bolstered her courage and grinned back at Arlene. "I took him a glass of ice and a Coke. And told him thank you for this morning."

Diana broke in, "I told you not to let these girls get your goat..."

"And... I pecked him on the lips. That's all it took to pop my nipples. How about you?" she finished, blushing more, if it were possible.

Arlene laughed out loud. "Sometimes, all it takes for me is to be in the same room with him. Particularly if he looks at me that special way, or tells me what he's going to do to me."

Arlene hugged Boswell. "I'm sorry. I guess I do tease too much, sometimes."

"That's okay," Doctor Boswell said straight-faced, "A little extra homework never hurt anyone." Turning, she went to help Diana before Arlene could figure out if she were kidding or not. She wasn't. She had already bluffed Arlene with this before. She thought she would add a reading assignment, just to let Arlene think she had pissed her off, and to keep Arlene guessing. Teenagers were hard to keep ahead of, but she had a lot of experience. Now what can I assign her that will really be boring? Of course, as fast as she reads, it will be a minor irritant, at best. But I've got to see the look on Arlene's face when she realizes that I wasn't bluffing this time. Huumm, maybe a research assignment on how a woman's nipples expand. Yes, I think that would be appropriate!

-------

Jeff had made his turn the next morning and was about halfway back to the house when the contractor beeped his horn as he passed, this time driving a bigger dump truck and pulling the biggest portable concrete mixer Jeff had ever seen. He couldn't see what was in the truck. A few seconds later, another dump truck passed with about half a load of gravel. Before he reached the top of the drive, another passed carrying sand. Well, I guess Dave figures he's ready to pour the sidewalks. We've progressed from a few temporary shooting stations using Quikrete, to poured sidewalks. No telling where this will end. I had hoped we would be able to do a little shooting on the range this afternoon. But I guess that's out. Oh, well, we can dry fire some more.

Back at the house, he went to the suite, quietly walked through the bedroom so he wouldn't wake anyone, then into the shower. After showering and drying off, he put on casual clothes and went back to the kitchen. Boswell said, "Hi," but didn't look up, just continued typing on her laptop at a rapid rate.

Jeff leaned over, took her by the back of her neck, and kissed her. She tried to talk into his mouth as he lightly trailed a fingertip up the inside of her thigh. Reaching her shorts-clad pussy, he cupped it as he had yesterday, then worked his thumb in circles where he thought her clit should be. She moaned, then a minute or so later, put a hand behind his head and pulled his mouth hard against hers. Her groin bucked against his hand, she sucked in air through her nose, then shivered for a prolonged period of time. Finally, she slumped, her mouth pulling away from his.

"Good morning," he quietly said, as he kissed her cheek.

"Good morning," she weakly answered, laughter in her voice.

After getting a cup of coffee, he sat down at the other end of the table. Seeing her bright red face, he had second thoughts. "Helen, I, uh, guess I was out of line. I'm..."

Taking a sip of coffee, she looked over at him. "Someone once told me that you could be depressed before and orgasm, and you could be depressed after an orgasm, but never depressed during an orgasm. I guess you could substitute 'mad at someone' for depressed. When Jeff's expression became even more serious, she giggled. "But who in the world could be mad at you for doing that to them. "Thank you, Jeff," she quietly said. "But please don't get your wives mad at you or me for doing that."

"Not a chance," Jeff replied, a relieved expression now on his face. "Diana told me to do it last night just before she went to sleep. The boss bitch has spoken, so no one else will dare to think about being jealous," he teased. "Now, what are you working on so industriously this morning?"

Helen turned the laptop to show him, her body tingling just being near him.

-------

Just before nine, they parked and were walking toward the front doors of the Sheriff's Department when a deputy drove from the back. As he turned onto the street, he almost sideswiped a parked car while trying to look at the women and drive, too.

Jeff flinched, and several of the others oohed at the near miss. "That would not be a good start with the Sheriff," Jeff said, as he held the door open for his wives and Doctor Boswell.

Inside, Jeff told the deputy at the counter that he would like to speak with the Sheriff.

"Sir, he's in a conference. Can someone else help you?"

"No. I guess I should have called. Do you know how long he will be?"

"No Sir, I don't. I think one of the captains is in there for a meeting. I'm certain someone else can help you. Did you want to file a report, or something?"

"No, Jeff said," frowning. "I want to make a substantial donation to the department, and I want to make sure it's something that the deputies need."

"Well Sir, there's a box over by the wall there," he said, pointing. "Our vests are old, and we're trying to get up enough money to buy new ones. They're almost four hundred dollars apiece." Jeff, having already noticed the vest donation box, said, "You get me in there to see him, and I'll buy a level III-A vest, and a cool shirt to go under it for everyone in the department."

The deputy stuck out his hand. "I'm deputy Kenneth Adams. You stand right there Sir, and I'll get you in to see him. I'll be right back," he added looking over his shoulder as he walked rapidly away, worried that Jeff would leave before he could tell the Sheriff.

Jeff turned back to the women, his face set. "It's always the same. When everything is spent in the county or city, then the politicians look at what the cops need. Yet the politicians drive a new car every year. I'll bet the car that deputy pulled out in had two hundred thousand miles on it. The politicians wouldn't even drive that thing around the block. Shit!"

The hallway door opened and deputy Adams beckoned to them. "Last door on the right," he said, grinning. "Thank you, Sir."

As soon as Jeff and the troop of women walked through the door, the Sheriff's secretary stood up, but before she could speak, Jeff said, "I'm Jeff Matthews. Could we talk with the Sheriff, please?"

"Yes Sir. He's expecting you. Right this way," she said, opening the door to the Sheriff's office.

The man behind the desk stood as the secretary said, "Mr. Matthews, this is Sheriff Tate. Sheriff, this is Mr. Matthews. I haven't been introduced to the ladies, yet."

Sheriff Tate was tall, with well-defined biceps straining at his short-sleeve uniform shirt. He appeared to be in his late forties with black hair beginning to show signs of gray. His uniform trousers had a knife-edge crease, and his shoes and duty belt were clean and well kept. His posture and bearing spoke of a military background. Jeff suspected that his good looks to go along with his immaculate uniform probably didn't hurt when reelection time came around.

After shaking hands, Jeff turned to the women, "Sheriff, this is my wife, Diana, and our daughter, Arlene. This is my assistant Laura, and her daughter, Ann. These young ladies are Melissa and Jennie; they are living with us and are my legal charges. This lady is Doctor Boswell, our teacher."

"My secretary, Brigette," Tate responded, nodding toward the lady that had let them in. Brigette greeted everyone, then left.

The Sheriff, ever a politician, shook hands with everyone, calling each by name, and getting it right. Jeff was impressed. Brigette brought in extra chairs, and when everyone was seated, she left again.

After the pleasantries, and a refusal of refreshments, Jeff began.

"Sheriff, I'm an engineer and inventor. To help with college expenses, and then to supplement our income when I began working full time, I sold weapons and other equipment both to the public and a fairly large number of police and Sheriff departments. I was asked to join the reserves for one of the smaller police departments in Georgia, where we had lived all our lives. My wife says that the main reason they wanted me to be a reserve was so they could get me on their shooting team. Be that as it may, I got to know a lot of the officers.

"I was lucky enough to sell one of my inventions, and we moved out here. Deputy Adams pointed out the vest donation box. Up front, I'll tell you that we came here to get Diana and Laura's carry permits transferred out here, or get them new ones, whichever is appropriate. And I know that I could take care of that without seeing you. But we want to buy body armor for your deputies while we're here."

"Mr. Matthews, do you have any idea of how much... ?"

"Deputy Adams said there were about one hundred and sixty deputies that worked in patrol and the jail. A while back, I saw some level III-A vests on the net for four hundred dollars each. Another hundred for a couple cool shirts to go under the vest, makes it about five hundred dollars apiece. One hundred and sixty times five hundred is eighty thousand dollars.

The Sheriff sat up straighter. "Uh, the cool shirt is only about forty bucks, maybe a little less..."

"Yeah, but they need at least two. It's made to soak up sweat. Mine can be washed, but not dried, so you have to hang it up for a day. I'll make the check for ninety thousand; I don't know whether the ceramic inserts are extra or not. Do it right. If this isn't enough, call me. Don't try to just 'get by.' If you need more, call me at this number," he finished, handing the Sheriff his card. "That's the old number on there, I just crossed it out and wrote the new one above it. I finally thought to order some new cards, but they haven't come in yet.

"Oh, and if you do get a price break on the vests or shirts, just spend the extra as you see fit, if there's anything left, but I suspect the inserts will be extra."

The Sheriff took the card, and Jeff started writing the check. Tate reached out and took it when Jeff completed it. He looked at it a moment, then said, "One of my deputies was shot last year. The bullet hit the vest right over his heart. I though he was still going to die, anyway. His chest was still purple a week later from the blunt trauma, and the doc said his heart was probably bruised as well. If the vest had had a trauma plate, he would have been in much better shape, but when we bought the vests, we didn't have the extra money, so we just got the best we could for the money we had.

"There's going to be some happy deputies when word gets around — and some happy spouses as well," he said, grinning at Diana.

"There is something else, while we're here," Jeff said, opening his briefcase. He handed a stack of photographs to the Sheriff. "I know that Sergeant Goodwin has contacted you about these two. I took the liberty of combining their separate pictures into the same photograph and printing a hundred of them out on a good printer. I know you said you would get a picture of them to the deputies that work my area, but I would appreciate it if you could get one in every patrol car, and put them up anywhere else you think would be appropriate."

"Mr. Matthews, I don't know where you got these pictures, and if they came from mug shots, which they obviously have, this could be violating their rights..."

"That wormy little scumbag," Jeff growled, pointing to Junior's picture, "violated Arlene's rights by trying to kidnap and rape her. The big one has already killed two people, and got off on a technicality. They were recorded on the jail camera, blatantly saying they were going to kill me and the women, after they raped them, not to mention threatening to kill the officers who arrested them. The next day, their bond was mysteriously reduced to practically nothing, and they were allowed a signature bond and allowed to leave.

"When Goodwin started raising hell, the judge revoked their bonds. When the cops got to their address, their trailer was deserted. Goodwin says that some woman (he wouldn't give me her name) allowed them to sign their bonds, but she hasn't reported for work since."

Jeff leaned over and placed his forearms on the Sheriff's desk. Looking him eye to eye, Jeff said, "You can call Goodwin and check out what I've told you. If they are fugitives, then there is not a thing wrong with passing out these photos in roll call. If I get a call from your deputies, should they see these people, I would feel very friendly toward your department. And I already like cops."

"Tell the troops like it is, just like I've told you. Let everybody know exactly what's going on. I'm scared that this idiot is going to shoot into our vehicle, or hide out in the woods near our house and start shooting when he sees us. I can't even think about him killing these women that I love. You know he has everything going for him. It's possible to kill almost anyone if you set your mind to it, particularly if you aren't concerned with the consequences. We need some help."

Jeff sighed and leaned back in the seat. "There are four underage, but exceptional intelligent young women here," he said motioning to the girls. They are mature well beyond their years. I understand that a permit can only be issued to someone twenty-one or older. I am in the process of teaching them the same course that the police and sheriffs' departments uses in Georgia — the state Minimum Standards course. When they have forty hours of firearms training behind them, and fire at least an eighty on the state course, they're going to go armed. I would like for them to have carry permits. Maybe, if that can't be done, then some type of specialty permit until the crisis is over. But legal or not, they are going to be equipped to defend themselves, and each other."

The sheriff sat back and steepled his fingers on his stomach. "Is this check contingent on the permits?"

"Hell, no. That's a gift because the deputies need it."

The sheriff cleared his throat. "Actually, the minimum age thing isn't state law. It's a rule by the Sheriff's Department, and is pretty much standard in most states, although some have nineteen as the minimum age, and some even have eighteen. Of course, there are a couple of the really high crime states that you can't even get a carry permit. They seem to be so worried about the honest folks carrying guns that they never seem to notice that with their laws, only the criminals get to carry guns. Oh, well, I don't want to get too high up on my soapbox. Back to the age rule. It's been around for many years, but there have been exceptions in the past."

The sheriff picked up his phone. "Brigette, get Sergeant Tucker in here, please." He hung up the phone and turned to Jeff. "You mentioned getting these two ladies, '" he nodded toward Diana and Laura, "permits transferred out here. We don't do that, but if they will go with Sergeant Tucker when he gets here, he'll take care of an NCIC check for warrants and for criminal history, then issue them a carry permit, if they're clear. It will only take a few minutes. But what about you? Did you already get your permit taken care of?"

Jeff took his permit case out of his hip pocket and slid it across to the sheriff.

"How did you get this?" he asked after carefully scrutinizing the federal carry permit. "You don't mind if I check this, do you?"

"Be my guest," Jeff said, an unfathomable expression on his face.

The sheriff picked up his phone and punched three numbers. "Captain Yanzing, would you step in here a moment, please."

Yansing walked in, smiled at everyone, then turned to the sheriff.

Sheriff Tate handed the permit to the Captain. "How about checking this for validity, please?"

Yansing did a double take. "Sure, be back in a few minutes."

Jeff, the women, and the sheriff chatted. Time dragged on. The sheriff had begun to notice a look in Jeff's eyes. He could swear he was laughing at him. Finally, Yansing came back in, and ignoring the sheriff, gave Jeff his permit back. Turning to the sheriff, who was becoming miffed, Yansing said. "Well, that opened up a can of worms."

At Tate's frown, Yansing hurried to add. "Oh, it's valid all right. And I hadn't gotten ten feet from the NCIC machine before the dispatcher buzzed and said I had a call from FBI headquarters. I was given the third degree about why I was checking the federal permit. I..."

The sheriff's phone rang. Picking up the phone and listening for a second, "Okay, Brigette, I'll take it," he said. He punched the other line and said, "Sheriff Tate." Yanzing hastily left.

There was a long quiet while Tate listened. "Then, "No, he isn't in any trouble... No, he and his family have been threatened and he is in here to get permits for his wife and his assistant... Well, when I asked about his permit, he handed me his federal permit, and I just thought it would be prudent to check it out... Well, yes it does have his name and picture on it... Uh, yes, it does have an embossed seal... Hell, how should I know? It's the first one I've ever seen. I don't make a habit of asking FBI people for their federal permit. I don't even know if they have one or not. I assume that their badge or ID is sufficient."

After another minute of listening, Tate hung up. "Fu... uh... I'll be back in a minute." He got up and left the room.

Melissa started a faint giggle, but Jeff glanced at her and it instantly stopped.

A couple of minutes and the sheriff walked back in with Diana and Laura in tow. Sergeant Tucker brought up the rear. "If you ladies will go with me, I'll get you set up for your permits," Tucker said.

The girls got up and followed him out the door without a word.

"It was suggested," the sheriff said, grinning as he sat back at his desk, "that I should apologize to you. I really didn't have any intention of causing you any problems. It was just the cop in me. I started as a deputy working in the jail, and went up through the ranks. I had to quit to run for office, but I'm in my second term now. I'm not just a politician. But I sure didn't expect that sort of reaction to checking the validity of a carry permit. I'll know better next time. But you and I both know that was more reaction than was appropriate for a simple check. I don't know what you're into, but I sure know they're keeping a check on you. They obviously have your permit number flagged. Heck, I wish I could get a fingerprint checked that quick, he mused. But I do apologize."

"Sorry Sheriff. No apology needed. I should have told you that they would probably check back. You had already handed the permit to the captain before I realized what you were going to do. If I had objected, you would have just thought that the permit was bogus, so I just let it ride."

Tate glanced over at Doctor Boswell and started to say something. She grinned at him. "My permit is current."

"Shall we have some coffee while we wait?" Without waiting for an answer, Tate buzzed his secretary. "We've decided to have some coffee. Have the sergeant make a fresh pot, please."

As soon as he hung up the phone, deputy Adams walked in pushing a cart with coffee, condiments and two boxes of doughnuts on it.

I know damn well that the money for those doughnuts came from Adams' pocket. He's telling us thank you the only way he can. And he had to have sent for them shortly after we got in here. He took me at my word that we were going to buy vests for everyone. The check is still lying on Tate's desk. No one has seen it but the sheriff.

Jeff caught Adams' eye. "Thank you," he quietly said.

"No problem, Sir. We all thank you for the vests."

Later, everyone was back in Tate's office. He cleared his throat and looking at Jeff, then the girls, said, "You realize that I'm sticking my neck out a bit. You obviously have a very valid reason for the permits. Sergeant Goodwin has called me twice about these two," he said, motioning to the stack of pictures. "But whatever you do, make damn sure it's in self-defense. That includes not only yourself, but each other, of course."

Tate stared at the girls until everyone acknowledged him.

Turning his attention back to Jeff, he continued, "I like to think I'm not your average sheriff. Oh, I have to be a politician to maintain the position — I am an elected official, but I'm a lot more cop than politician. I still wear a uniform, obviously, since your looking at it now, and a regular duty belt and weapon. I don't wear a little snub-nosed .38 stuck up on my belt, lost in a fat gut.

"I've gotten some criticism from some of the other politicians because I don't fit the mold. I had one of the local town's city councilmen who liked to ride with me every now and then. I think it was more to be seen so he could get more votes than anything else. I still get out on patrol on occasion, and I'll respond to anything that I expect my troops to. Well, I backed up a deputy that was having a problem. I think said councilman thought he wasn't going to survive the ride there, and he was certain he wasn't going to survive after he got there."

"I had a pretty good scuffle. I got my uniform torn up a bit, and this turkey got a front row seat to the festivities. I insist that I have a cage in my car just like the rest of the patrol cars. We put two of the prisoners in my back seat, and they were not pleased to be there. They kicked on the shield that runs behind the front seat, and spit on the Plexiglas that goes from the top of the seat to the ceiling of the car, all the way to the jail.

"When someone kicks on the shield, it tends to jar you sitting in the front seat. These two really kicked on the shield. I think the councilman got his fill of riding in a patrol car that day. He hasn't asked to ride with me since. Don't make me wish I had acted more like a politician and less like a cop today. Train them well. If they must use deadly force to defend themselves, make damn sure they can hit who they are shooting at, and not some innocent person! And keep it quiet about the permits. If word gets out that I gave underage girls pistol permits, well..."

Jeff stuck out his hand. "It a promise! Both for the training, and keeping quiet about the permits. And by the way, may I have a receipt? My accountant will have kittens if I don't get one."

Tate grinned, "I think we can handle that."

-------

When they got back to the Escalade, Diana asked, "Why so quiet? We've all got permits. What's wrong?"

When everyone was inside and belted in, he answered, "Ah, it's nothing. I guess I should be flattered, but I still suspect that if we weren't rich, the sheriff would be getting a copy of the report, documenting that we were threatened, not to mention verifying everything that I told him. And even then, it would have been an iffy thing about the girls getting the permits."

"Well, there was that tiny little thing about getting his ass chewed by the FBI," Doctor Boswell said, giggling.

That set everyone off, and even Jeff chuckled a little as he pulled into the street. Glancing at his watch, he commented. "It's only ten thirty. Unless someone has to go somewhere, I guess..."

"Shopping," rang out in unison from seven females.

Shit! Me and my big mouth. Grin and bear it, though. They're sitting on all the pussy.

Jeff smiled from ear to ear. "Which way ladies?"

-------

Jeff backed the Escalade to the back door at five thirty. Eight people in the Escalade meant every seat was taken. Eight people and groceries for an army meant the Escalade was stuffed. Everyone except Jeff had grocery bags at their feet, not to mention the clothing, and the new bathing suits, but no one seemed to mind being crowded.

Diana had refused to serve the steaks they had in the freezer. "I want fresh steaks for our first outside company. We've never met Evie before, and only know Dave through his work here. We're going to serve them the best steaks we can. I want the steaks to be perfect. We'll eat the ones in the freezer ourselves later on."

Diana and the butcher had a conference. Money changed hands. He had meat he set aside for his special customers. He had a new special customer and he was glad to cut the steaks to Diana's specifications.

When Diana thanked him, he said, "I have a local rancher that feeds a number of his best cattle on sweat feed for three months prior to slaughter, plus he adds something else to their food that he keeps secret. No steak anywhere for any amount of money will compare with these. If you don't agree with me after eating them, I'll give you your money back without any questions. I know they're expensive, but they are the best."

Jeff got out of the SUV and stretched his back. Ann hooked two plastic bags of heavy groceries in his right hand, while Arlene took care of his left. He just grinned and headed for the kitchen.

"How much did you give that butcher?" he asked as they walked down the hallway. This was the second time he had asked since leaving town.

"As I said before, Jeff," Diana answered, grinning, "just the right amount. But if those steaks taste half as good as they look, they'll be great."

As soon as he put his bags on the counter, she changed the subject. "Go start the charcoal grill by the pool. Dave is probably going to be ready to eat when he comes in. He's been working all day."

Jeff gave her a mock salute, but tempered it with a hard, but quick kiss and a gentle squeeze on her nipple as she started to chastise him. He left laughing. I'm not even going to mention the gas grill; the boss bitch said we're going to use the charcoal one.

He spread a substantial layer of charcoal over an area that he figured would easily cook ten steaks, lit it and closed the lid, making sure the grill's vent fan was running to the outside. Well, my job is done, other than helping to carry things from the kitchen out here. I'll get out of the way and let the pros take over. I think I'll go find Dave and see if he's about ready to knock off.

Jeff didn't do the usual "man thing" and grill the steaks. He viewed that as ridiculous. If a man cooked in the kitchen, that was one thing. But most men, it seemed to him, only put the meat on the grill, then took it off when the meat was burned sufficiently. The woman, who was given the "day off," usually cooked, or readied the rest of the food, which was many times more work than the man did with the steak, or whatever else he cooked on the grill. Jeff knew that Diana, Laura, and even the girls were far superior cooks than he would ever be. Why insult them by giving them the "day off," and him ruining a great peace of meat? So he was perfectly happy being a pack mule and transporting whatever needed to be moved from point A to point B. The piece of meat he put in his belly would be perfect when one of the real cooks got through with it.

He picked up the phone, punched the intercom and dialed the kitchen.

"Yes, Husband," Melissa answered, teasingly. He didn't even think to question how she knew it was him.

"The charcoal is started. I'm going out to check on Dave."

"Okay, Love."

Jeff walked out the back door on the north wing. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was almost six. As he topped the small rise near the house, he could tell that the crew was about done for the day. One of the men had the concrete finisher turned on its side flushing the cement from the blades and housing with a hose. Others were picking up tools. Two were using a hand trowel to smooth around the edges of the form. Dave had managed to pour the seven and fifteen yard line sidewalks, the form was almost complete for the twenty-five, and the fifty had been graded smooth, ready for the form to be put in.

Jeff realized that the worker on the other end of the fifteen yard line sidewalk smoothing up the edges was Dave, and started in that direction. As Jeff got nearer, it became obvious that the contractor had done a lot more than supervise today. Dave's clothes had cement dust, splotches of partially dried cement and dirt liberally applied. His face and hands were as dirty as any of the crew.

Jeff stopped and waited, not wanting to interrupt as they finished up.

A redheaded worker yelled. "The finisher and the mixer or clean Boss. We got anything else?"

"I think... just my trowel. Looks like everything else is ready for tomorrow," Dave said, looking around as the rest of the crew finished up.

The worker held the hose while Dave rinsed the trowel, then wiped it dry.

"Robb, how about taking the truck home with you and picking up a load of gravel in the morning." When Robb nodded, Dave turned to another of his crew, a slender, light complected, towheaded worker about twenty-fives years old, who looked like the sun was not his friend.

Before Dave could say anything, "Yeah, I know Boss. I'll pick up another load of sand on the way in."

"Okay everybody. Tomorrow at six. I think we can finish this thing if everything goes as smoothly as it did today."

As a tired group trudged toward their vehicles, Dave turned to Jeff. Motioning toward the other side of the level area, past the wind generators, about three hundred yards away, Dave said, "I set up eight target frames so you could get started with the firearms training and wouldn't have to wait on us to finish the range.

"I just made the frames out of some two by twos, hammered them into the ground far enough for them to stand up like they should, then stapled on some cardboard for you to attach your targets to. The frames are far enough away so the sound of the gunfire won't bother us as we work. That way, I can finish the range the way it should be, without delaying you any more."

Jeff took in the target frames, then turned back to Dave. "I appreciate that, Dave, but seven people firing 9 mm pistols at the same time are still going to make a lot of racket, even at three hundred yards. Not to say anything about my .45, should I shoot with them. That's a lot of distraction for men working. I..."

Leaning over, Dave propped his foot against a board, then whacked the bottom of his boot with the trowel edge, dislodging a gob of wet cement. Looking up at Jeff, the contractor waved his hand in a negative gesture. "I don't have any wimps working for me. Most of my people hunt or target shoot. They won't be bothered by a little noise. Come on, with the generator running, the mixer going, not to mention the other equipment they have to listen to so much of the time when they're working, they won't pay any attention at all. The worst that will happen is that someone will step in the wet concrete while trying to gawk at those beautiful women of yours," he finished, laughing as he knocked cement off the bottom of his other boot.

Jeff grinned back. "I've been known to stumble a time or two myself. Don't be too hard on your guys. Knowing the women, they'll be flattered if the men look at them a little." Then, changing the subject, "Are you about ready to eat? I started the grill before I came out here. The charcoal should be ready soon."

"You bet," Dave answered, standing up and bending backwards with a hand pushing into his lower back, much as Jeff had done earlier, letting out a sigh. Straightening up, he tossed the trowel on the table with the other tools. After wiping his hands on a rag, he looked at his boots. Picking up the hose, he rinsed the bottom and sides of them. "Guess I'll leave these on the steps. They'll need a good cleaning before I walk on carpet with them again. Evie is supposed to bring me a change of clothes. I hope she thought to bring me a pair of shoes."

"If she didn't, we'll find something for you to wear," Jeff said.

A couple of minutes later, as they neared the house, Dave saw his wife's pickup, and said. "It looks like Evie made it on time after all. She had to pick up some stuff in Denver for one of the jobs, and we were afraid she wouldn't make it back on time."

The back door opened and Diana and a petite blond stepped out. "Your clothes are already inside Dave," the blond said, walking toward them to greet her husband.

She kissed Dave, who nodded at Jeff and said, "Honey, this is Jeff Matthews. Jeff, my wife, Evie."

She and Jeff shook hands. Jeff noted that she didn't have a limp-wristed handshake despite her petite size.

They chatted for a moment as Dave took off his boots, then they went into the house. Diana turned to Dave, "Evie and I put your clothes in the north suite. After you shower and put on your suit, just meet us at the pool."

"It will take us a few minutes," Evie said with a grin. "I didn't get to shower either, after I had to go to Denver."

Diana smiled at her. "Take your time. We're supposed to be relaxing. No use in trying to hurry up and relax. We won't start the meat until you two get there."

Dave and Evie turned toward one of the guest suites, each with an arm around the other. "Hey, I like her already," Jeff said.

"Down, Rover. She is pretty. But she belongs to Dave. Besides," she said, elbowing him gently in the ribs, "you have plenty of willing pussy, any time you want it."

"I didn't..." Jeff started.

"Hush, Alpha. I'm just teasing you," she said, tiptoeing and pulling his head down so she could lightly kiss his lips. "Let's go get our swimsuits on. The girls are already in the pool."

"They didn't wear those micro-bikinis they bought, did they? I wouldn't want to give Evie the wrong impression."

Diana laughed over her shoulder then winked at her husband as they entered the bedroom. "Now how are they going to give Evie the wrong impression? You know that Dave has already told her about our living arrangements. It would have taken an idiot not to figure out what was going on after the changes to our suite, not to mention the conversation in the kitchen, yesterday. So Dave gets to see a little titty bounce and jiggle — well, maybe a lot," she said with a grin. "Big deal. Besides, I had a talk with Evie on the phone earlier today. She's got a new bikini to show off, too. And she's certainly no slouch in the looks department."

As they stripped off their clothes to change into their swimsuits, Diana knelt in front of her husband. Tossing her hair back over her shoulder, she took Jeff's cock in her hand. "Just let it go, Big Boy. I want to relieve a little pressure so you won't have to fight an erection quite as much. Besides, if this log swells up in your trunks, you might hurt your new employee's feelings."

"Diana, it's not that big. Besides, Dave probably has... uhmmm. Damn, that feels good." A couple of minutes later, Diana started swallowing.



-------

Chapter 8

A little later, Jeff and Diana were teasing with Ann near the grill when Dave and Evie walked in. The manufacturer hadn't wasted a lot of cloth on Evie's bikini, either. She winked at Diana. Diana grinned back, suspecting that Evie had relieved some pressure for Dave for the same reason Diana had for Jeff.

Jeff offered Dave a beer. When he started to decline, Jeff said. "You two are staying in the suite tonight. You can drop your work clothes in the washer after we eat, if Evie didn't bring you clothes for tomorrow. So enjoy yourself. I don't let anyone leave here after drinking. So have fun."

"In that case," Evie said, "I'll have one."

"We don't drink much," Dave said. "A six pack will last a month around the house. But you're right, I wasn't going to drink even one and face that driveway after dark," he finished, chuckling.

"And, I did bring us clothes for tomorrow, just in case you did invite us to stay the night," Evie said. "We appreciate it. That way, we won't have to get up so early."

Laura and Diana started putting meat on the grill, "How do you two want your steaks?" Laura said, turning to Evie.

"Medium-well," Evie answered while putting her arm around her husband. "And he wants his just-past-dead," she laughed as she smiled up at him.

Laura laughed with her as she put two more steaks on the grill. "One medium-well and one 'just- past-dead' coming up."

The girls and Boswell came out of the pool without being called, and the production line started.

"Jeff, can you and Dave move those two tables over by the glass wall, and slide them together?" Diana asked, pointing.

"Sure Babe."

By the time they had the tables pushed together, the girls came in with the rest of the food. A little later, they were all seated at the table when Doctor Boswell volunteered to say grace. Jeff winked at her when she finished, and she smiled back, feeling, somehow, that she was now more a part of the family than she had been five minutes ago.

Dave and Evie saw the exchange and knew something had happened, but they weren't sure what.

The meal progressed without a lot of unnecessary conversation. Everyone was hungry, but there was a little more tension than Jeff had hoped for.

Evie glanced at Diana, then out the glass wall at the trees that were starting to change to their fall colors. "I've been in the conference center many times while we were building it, but I guess this is the first time that I've really had time to appreciate how beautiful the view is from the swimming pool."

Evie raised up a little for a moment, looking out the wall, and continued, "You can see part of the driveway past the first switchback. I was scared for Dave and the others until that road was paved. I wouldn't drive up it unless I just had to. When they widened it, put the blacktop on, and the rails up, it made it a lot better, but it still gives me the willies."

"The 'willies?'" Diana said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that's a technical term," Evie said, elbowing her husband, "that contractors use when they're scared sh... , uh,... half to death," she finished, blushing.

"Like when you're standing on a piece of decking on a half-framed roof, three stories up, and the board you're standing on cracks really loud," Dave said, laughing.

"Nah, that's not the 'willies, '" Jeff said. "I think she got it right. That would be a sound that would make you start looking for some toilet paper at the next opportunity... If there was another opportunity."

Everybody laughed, then sobering, Jeff said, "I'll bet you have some real war stories about that job of yours."

Dave stopped for a minute, then grinned. "The trouble with my 'war stories, ' is that someone not in the business would never believe half of them. People can sometimes do the dumbest things — unfortunately, myself included. By the way, Mrs. Matthews, this has got to be the best piece of meat I have ever put in my mouth."

Diana mock glared at Dave. "We've discussed this before. There is no 'Mrs. Matthews' here. There is, however, a Diana. And thanks for the comment about the meat." Looking around the table as everyone nodded or smiled at her, she continued, "I'll have to agree with you. The butcher said that he would give me my money back if they weren't the best. I guess he's not going to lose anything. He says he has a rancher that he buys his special meat from. Looks like he was telling the truth about his steaks."

After several more comments about the quality of the meat, Jeff said, "About the 'war stories, ' I used to hang around with a number of cops. Some of their war stories would leave me in stitches. But they said that they didn't tell their really far out stories to outsiders — that nobody but cops would believe them. You have to be on the inside, so to speak, and see things happen before you can believe some of the outlandish things that some people will do — like you said. I suppose it's true for any profession where there is danger involved."

Dave finished his last bite and pushed his plate back a little wistfully. Before he realized what was happening, Laura dropped another steak onto his plate.

"My gosh, I can't..."

"Sure you can," she said, a grin on her face. "We have plenty. We knew you guys would want more than that one piece of meat," she said, squeezing his shoulder.

"Eat up," Jeff said. "They spoil me to no end. Get used to it." He smiled his thanks as Jennie put another steak on his plate. "They like to cook, and I like to eat their fantastic cooking."

Dave cut up his steak as Evie teased him about getting fat.

"Ah, he works too hard to get fat," Jeff said, defending Dave. "Besides, if you two take my offer of a job, Dave and I can run together in the mornings."

"I used to run a little a few years ago, but the business got to taking up so much of my time, that I just let it go. I probably couldn't stagger through a mile now."

"And," Evie said, "he's been having a skipped beat in his heart. The doctor put him on some medication, and fussed at him for drinking too much caffeine. The doctor told him to walk, but if he decided to start running, to work into it very slowly. Something to do with an intermittent bundle branch block. They did tests and finally said that some people have the abnormality without any real significance, but it still scared us. Dave goes for a checkup every six months, just to be safe. So far, the block hasn't caused any problems, other than the initial scare when we realized he had it," she finished holding her husband's hand.

Seven females glanced meaningfully at Jeff. They might as well have screamed "healer." Jeff cleared his throat and said, "Well, maybe with the new job, you will have a little extra time to work in an exercise routine. Maybe the exercise will make this thing go away." And the healer, when I manage to catch you asleep. Maybe tonight, if I get another couple of those beers down you so you sleep soundly.

Dave glanced at his wife, then looked back at Jeff. "Uh, no offense, Jeff, but I doubt if I will have more free time taking on this job with you. You said I could still maintain my company, cycling my crews out here as they finish up their current jobs, and as we need them. But taking on this new, gigantic project of yours is going to add hours, not take them away. I..."

Jeff stopped, listening, a piece of meat speared on his fork, then, "Delegate. Spend more time planning and overall supervising, and less time micromanaging. Promote one of your people to do the onsite supervision at your other projects. We want your expertise, not your lifeblood. I will not have you working more than forty hours a week..."

Evie interrupted. "He works at least seventy-two hours a week now, even with me helping to run the business. We're making a good living, but we don't have time to live it," she finished, turning her head away so no one would see the tears in her eyes.

"Do you have anyone you could promote to oversee everything, maybe also make a foreman for each crew to do the on-scene management?"

"Korey?" Evie said, turning to her husband.

"Yeah. He would jump at the chance," Dave said looking back at Jeff, then settling back in his chair and taking a sip of his beer. "He and I went to school together. He had his own outfit, but he got screwed on a big job and went under. I have a foreman for each crew, already. I'm using Korey in that position on one of my jobs. I guess I could put him in charge of all the crews until they cycle out here. What do you think, Babe?" he asked, looking meaningfully at his wife.

"I think I'll go with anything that will cut your hours back." Quietly, she continued, "I don't want to be a rich widow. I just want to be a wife."

Diana glanced at Arlene, then let her eyes drift to the portable phone sitting in its cradle near the pool. Arlene got up, retrieved it, and handed it to Dave. Without saying anything, she sat back down, a smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

Dave and Evie locked eyes. She leaned over and touched his arm. "Do it," she quietly said.

Dave dialed the phone. "Hey Marge. How are you doing... ? That's great. Say, is Korey there... ? Yeah, let me talk to him."

-------

A little later, Dave was finishing up the steak, but his mind was so far away that he was barely aware of the great piece of meat he was eating.

Diana, Laura and Evie were in the pool standing in waist-deep water, talking up a storm. Doctor Boswell and the girls were cleaning up the table. Since they had decided to use plastic plates, there was considerably less to transport back to the kitchen. By the time that Dave and Jeff had finished, there was little left to do.

Jeff offered Dave another beer, but he waved his hand in a negative gesture. "No thanks, but I will take a glass of that ice tea. I guess I never drank sweet tea with lemon before, at least not iced tea, before meeting you people. Most restaurants in this area will serve you iced tea, but unsweetened. After Diana brought the crew iced tea a couple of weeks ago, and I told Evie about it, we've been drinking it at home. We haven't been able to make it as good as you do, though."

"All I know is there's a bit of an art to making really good sweet iced tea. Tell Evie to ask any of the women, they'll bend her ear making sure she knows exactly how to make it," he laughed, as he put crushed ice in a glass and set the pitcher next to Dave. Now tell me what Korey said when you hit him with your bombshell. "What was it? Oh, yeah. 'How would you like to run my operation?' I'll bet that got his attention."

Dave leaned back in the chair, becoming more at ease with Jeff. "Yeah, it got his attention all right. I think he about shit. I heard Marge squeal in the background when she figured out what we were talking about."

"I assume you can trust him."

"Yeah, we've been friends since school. He had a good business going until this big outfit screwed over him, and he lost everything. He knows as much about the business as I do. What happened to him wasn't his fault. He just got steamrolled."

Jeff nodded to the pool and the huddle of females, now including Doctor Boswell and the girls as well. "Looks like our wives are planning something," Jeff said, a crooked grin on his face. He had noticed that wedding rings had appeared on all his wives' hands. He saw Dave notice them.

"You're sleeping with all of them. Your daughter, too?" Dave asked, an odd expression on his face.

"Well, I'm not sleeping with Doctor Boswell... Well, not exactly," Jeff answered. "Will you and Evie have any problem with my little harem?"

Dave sat for a moment. "I knew that you were sleeping with the others. That was obvious from the bathroom in your new suite, even before you told me they were your women." He hesitated for a moment. "I don't know what I think about you having sex with your daughter. I..."

"Well, that makes two of us," Jeff sighed. There's a long story behind it. To be frank with you, I'm not going to tell you until I know you a lot better. But if it will make you feel any better, I wasn't the one that started it. I guess you could call it a conspiracy between Diana and Arlene. They didn't ask my opinion. But all of them are my wives — Arlene included. You and Evie need to talk tonight. If you can't handle our relationship, then we're going to have to work this out somehow. I want you to head up our projects here. I picked you for reasons we've already discussed. Discretion is one of them. All of those girls are above the age of consent. The only law I'm breaking is incest. And that's a law that is seldom enforced, even then, generally it involves a minor child to get the authorities interested. This doesn't. Right or wrong, I'm not going to change anything.

"Unless I miss my guess, Evie is being filled in as we speak. They don't wear their rings around outsiders," he said, returning Diana's smile as she looked over at him.

Dave finished his tea and caught Jeff's eye. "Whether I approve or disapprove of your relationship with your daughter, no one will ever hear about it from Evie or myself. That's a promise. As far as the multiple wives, well, hell, that's every man's dream. I just can't figure out how you get away with it. If I tried that, even if I knew someone who would agree, and if Evie would agree, of course, they still would be fighting tooth and nail in a week. Looks like your women would be jealous of each other. How do you manage?"

Jeff sighed. "I wish I knew. Sometimes I catch myself holding my breath when they come up with something new. But when there are decisions to be made, they seem to work it out with fewer words than men could ever do. I'll swear that the whole bunch of them get along better than Arlene and Diana did by themselves, and they never really fussed. But the group doesn't fuss at all."

"How do they decide who's going to... Ah, shit, it's none of my business, but how in the hell do you satisfy six young women, four of them teenagers?" Dave realized what he had just blurted out, and started trying to apologize.

Jeff looked at him and grinned, refusing to answer, then dropped a nonsequitur, "I dare you to dive in and jerk Evie's bottom down to her knees."

Dave looked over at the women, a grin starting on his face. "I haven't done anything like that to her in a long time. You're going to get me killed," Dave answered, getting to his feet, "but I've got to see the look on her face."

Dave dived into the water, and a few seconds later there was a short struggle, then a scream from Evie. Dave swam away with a small piece of cloth, laughing so hard he could hardly stay afloat. Evie stood stock still for a second, not quite believing what her husband had done to her, then launched into hot pursuit trying desperately to snatch her bikini bottom from his thrashing hand, totally forgetting that her bare butt was showing as she swam.

Diana accepted Jeff's hand to help her out of the pool. "Husband, this smells of instigation by my spouse. You're going to embarrass the poor women to death when she realizes that everybody is looking at her butt."

Jeff managed to control his laughter enough to gasp out, "Ah, they were both so uptight you would have thought they were on a job interview," he teased. "I thought that might help relax everybody a little. Besides, she does have a nice ass... Oh, shit that hurt," he yelled as Diana pinched him on his side. He continued to sputter as she yanked his trunks down to his knees and pushed him into the water just as Evie and Dave turned around to see what Jeff was hollering about.

"Wow, " Evie gasped, before she realized she had said anything.

"I saw what you were looking at," Dave said putting his hand on her head and shoving her under. That was a mistake. While she was under water, she yanked his trunks down to his ankles.

While Dave was fighting to try to keep his wife from pulling his suit the rest of the way off, and keep from swallowing half the pool in the process, all the women, including Helen, mobbed Jeff. Ann wound up with his trunks, and after climbing out of the pool, twirled them above her head on an extended index finger yelling, "Look what I found!"

The fight was on. Five minutes later, even Doctor Boswell was topless, and was in a losing battle to save her bottoms, as well.

Finally, Evie jumped out of the pool, quickly got a towel to wrap around herself, then took off down the hall shrieking like a teenager, with her husband chasing after her trying to pull the towel off.

Jeff had a raging hard-on, since all his wives, and he suspected Doctor Boswell as well, had freely groped and caressed him to no end. They were standing in waist-deep water on Jeff, when Ann grabbed his neck with one arm, wrapped her legs around him, and with the other hand guides his cock to her pussy. A little adjustment and a push, and she let out a sigh as she wiggled herself onto him. "Fuck me, Husband. I'm so hot I'm about to die."

Boswell, feeling like a fifth wheel, started to turn away and leave, when Diana slipped her hand between Boswell's legs from behind and cupped her pussy. "Where do you think you're going?" Diana teased, stroking her finger through Boswell's pussy lips while kissing her neck. "The fun is just beginning," she quietly said into Helen's ear.

"Diana, I..."

"... used to have a sister-wife," Diana completed, although that wasn't what Boswell had intended to say. "I can't be her, but I'll bet I can be some help right now, anyway," Diana chided, moving her finger in small circles on Helen's clit.

As Boswell started to sputter out something else, Arlene grabbed her, looked into her eyes for a moment, then kissed her while teasing her erect nipples. Boswell moaned into Arlene's mouth, and came, bucking her pussy against Diana's hand.

Arlene pulled her mouth off Doctor Boswell's. "Welcome to Pussy World, Teach," she said as she pulled on a nipple, then latched her mouth to the other one.

"'Pussy World, '" Diana teased, looking at her daughter as they carried Boswell toward another orgasm.

Arlene winked at her mother and kept sucking as Boswell moaned louder. Then the moan turned into a scream that Boswell tried to hide by putting her hand over her own mouth.

Jeff heard Boswell's muffled scream, saw what was happening near him, but most of his attention was riveted on Ann as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, frantically slamming her pussy against his controlled stroking. A few seconds later, she froze, then screamed with a keening sound that seemed to go on and on. When she collapsed, Laura took her daughter gently into her arms, as Jennie took Ann's place, guiding his cock to her pussy. The oldest dance of all resumed.

-------

Much later, Jeff stood in the darkened hallway outside the guest's suite with the healer in his hand, feeling the inquisitive mental tickle. Okay, Little One, they need to be asleep while you do this. Last time caused me some problems.

The healer moved in his hands, and faint blue beams reached out toward his body. No, no. I'm fine. The problems were caused by the blocks they put in my mind to keep you a secret. They reneged on our deal! I can't use you if anybody knows, so you need to make sure that the people in this room are asleep. The beams continued from head to foot for a time, then shut off.

{{{??? }}}

The man, Dave, has a heart condition. But I want both of them scanned. Shit, I don't know how much you understand me, if at all. Frustrated, he continued, Just heal both of them. Then added, Please! wondering why he said it to a machine. Well, I guess you're a machine, eh, Little One.

{{{?? Warm feeling?? }}}

Since using the device so much on Boswell, it seemed like he could almost communicate with it. Then... for the hundredth time, he wondered what race made this... thing, whatever it was. They must have been able to communicate with it better than I can. But it seems to do its job, anyway. It healed Diana's ankle,  he thought. He remembered that when he had put it next to her from time to time, worried about her smoking, it always played its blue beams about her.

The age regression has to be its doing,  he mused, and if he wasn't mistaken, Boswell was beginning to show those signs as well. He had used it on Laura once, maybe he should do it more. If Boswell begins to be more youthful, and Laura doesn't, Laura will figure it out (oh, shit, probably has already) and give me grief. Wives know how to do that.

{{{??? }}}

Yeah, its time. Don't get your panties in a wad.

Jeff had brought the master key, but it wasn't necessary — the outer door to the suite was unlocked. Well, I guess that means they trust us. Or else, Dave was too anxious to get Evie's towel off to bother with locking the door. In sock feet he eased silently through the sitting room, thankful for the small night-light. Standing with his ear to the bedroom door, he listened for a couple minutes.

I don't know these people well enough to get caught doing this. Especially since I won't be able to explain anything about the healer, or why I'm in their bedroom at two o'clock in the morning. Shit, maybe this wasn't the best idea I've ever had. Well, then again, it wasn't my idea. I did get that look from all my wives — even Boswell, so I guess I didn't have a lot of choice, after all. Ah, shit, here goes.

{{{??? }}}

Jeff slowly turned the knob and gently pushed the door open a crack. After listening again, he opened the door wide enough to get through, and one step at a time, entered the bedroom. His eyes had adjusted to the near darkness, broken only by another night-light and faint moonlight coming through the window.

Evie was lying snuggled in her husband's arms, the sheet tangled around their waists. Ah, crap. Neither of them has a stitch on. If Dave wakes up, he's going to think that I'm in here ogling his wife. Realizing he was doing just that, he tore his eyes away from Evie's breasts, extending the healer so it would be near Dave.

{{{??? }}}

Yeah. Do your thing, Little One. Both of them.

The beams played across Dave, then did the same for Evie. The healer seemed to wiggle in Jeff's hand.

{{{?? Impression of something. Movement? }}}

Jeff put the healer down on the bed beside Dave, then held his breath as it moved across Dave's arm to sit on his chest. Dave didn't move and his sleep seemed to deepen even more. Jeff glanced worriedly at Evie, but her sleep seemed very deep, as well. He knew from his experience with Doctor Boswell that the healer could put someone to sleep, even if they did not want to, particularly. But Boswell's sleep had been induced, obviously, to aid her healing. At least, Jeff assumed it had, but he was relieved that the healer had apparently induced a deeper sleep for Evie and Dave, too. Had it understood what Jeff had been trying to tell it? He didn't know.

After thirty minutes, during which time Jeff had quietly sat in a chair and watched, the healer then moved over to Evie, stopping to sit just below her breasts. Jeff hardly dared breathe, but both people appeared to be still deeply asleep.

After another ten minutes, and {{{??? }}}

Jeff went over and carefully picked it up off Evie, trying almost desperately to keep his eyes from locking onto her pert breasts as he did so. Boy, Dave must have given her nipples a workout. As he turned for the doorway, the healer continued to exude a mental tickle.

Damn, I know its trying to communicate with me. But all I get are just impressions — and I don't even know whether I'm just imagining most of them, or not.

As he eased the outer door to, Thanks Little One. Maybe one day we'll be able to understand each other better. I don't even know if you really understood that I wanted you to heal Dave's heart, and check out Evie. I did promise him the best health care he could ever imagine. You and I have got to spend more time trying to unravel this thing. I suppose you must have come from a race that was able to use telepathy, or something similar. I guess its frustrating for you to be saddled with a human who can't do that.

{{{??? Impressions, maybe of understanding, and something else }}}

He put the healer back in the closet in one of the conference rooms, putting a box in front of it. Hesitating for a moment, he took the healer back out, and started to their suite. Might as well use it on my wives again, paying particular attention to Laura.

Feeling like a fool, a little later, he tried to communicate that Laura needed to be younger like it had done to Diana. He put it next to Laura, then after again telling it what he wanted, he put it next to Diana for a moment, then back to Laura.

{{{?? Impressions of something, almost humor? }}}

The healer moved across Laura and sat on her chest much as it had Evie, but its stay was much longer. Finally, Jeff felt the mental tickle and he moved the healer to each of his wives. It only stayed with each of them for a couple of minutes before wanting to be moved to the next.

As he left the suite to put the healer up, he realized there was one more. Turning, he headed for Boswell's apartment. He would try the same thing he had for Laura. It had stayed on Laura much longer than his other wives, maybe it had understood that he wanted her ageing to reverse. He was on a roll, well, maybe he was on a roll.

Whether he was or not, the healer stayed sitting astride Doctor Boswell's chest for about the same amount of time it had with Laura. As he eased quietly out of her bedroom door, he was chilled to hear a quiet, "Thanks, Jeff."

He froze, then croaked, "Your welcome," as he quickly closed the door and made a hasty exit. Shit!

{{{!!! }}}

He could have sworn the damn thing giggled.

He put the healer in its hiding place and reentered his bedroom. He was wide awake and it was almost four o'clock. Mentally sighing, he got his running clothes out of the closet, slipped them on. He reset the alarm at the back door and walked out into the cold morning air.

Its amazing how this mountain can be almost eighty in the daytime, then be this cold the next morning. Shivering, he started a slow jog as part of his usual warm-up, then when he hit the county road, he increased his speed to a five minute pace. Ten minutes from the back door, his breathing slowed to FFA.

My body shifts a little quicker all the time. Oh, well. Can't bitch about being able to breathe at a normal rate and run at a five minute pace, but I do wish I could talk some of my wives into running with me. They swim and ride the bikes in the exercise room, but they just laugh at me when I suggest running. Maybe I can run with Dave some after he gets used to his new job, and get him out here with me in the mornings. But I don't know whether I want to run at a slower pace or not, though.

The quiet slap, slap, slap of his shoes on the pavement was almost hypnotic. He still had his little LED flashlight with him, but was using it less and less, mostly just when there was thick cloud cover so there wasn't any moonlight or starlight at all. He guessed he had just gotten used to running in the near darkness, he didn't seem to have any trouble seeing the road like he used to.

He shifted the .45 to a more comfortable position in the middle of his back. The inside holster, nestled between his running shorts and his skin, chaffed, although he had added a soft cloth pad to the side next to his skin. The top half of the gun was above his shorts, the bottom half inside. With his tee-shirt over the weapon, only an occasional outline of the gun showed, but it was uncomfortable to run with. Damn that SOB. Why did he have to mess with my family? The Colonel said they hadn't been able to find him, yet. How in the fuck can some dumbass like Hagewood manage to just disappear?

If the Colonel's team found Hagewood, the threat would be "nullified," but Jeff had a bad feeling about it. No telling where Hagewood had gotten off too. The Colonel said Hagewood didn't have a bank account or credit cards. He and his son were small-time dope dealers that had moved from place to place around the area. The Colonel had offered to put a couple of men at Jeff's house, but Jeff didn't want that if he could help it. This had brought him back under the Colonel's scrutiny much more than he liked as it was. Better out of sight, out of mind. As far as he was concerned, he was done with the unit — at least, as much as he could ever be. Yeah, right. Now there's another pipe dream,  he thought.

He sighed as he made his turn and started back up the mountain. I need to get with Dave first thing this morning. He needs to put someone in charge of pouring the concrete and finishing up the range. His micromanaging of my projects is great up to a point, but he needs to delegate, like I told him yesterday. Anybody can build a range. I need to find out where his other crews are timewise with their jobs, and coordinate that with the school, and our indoor range. I need to get my wives involved in the planning stage of our underground (what did I call it? Fortress. That works, I guess), and check with Frank Wainwright to see if he has a suggestion for an architect that could take on a project like this.

Shit, I'm going to have a bunch of people involved before we turn over the first shovel of dirt. But I'm probably going to have to push Dave to get him to turn loose of the details. He obviously has the brains to run a big operation. The conference center is a perfect example of that. Maybe the first thing I need to do is buy him a vehicle. While that big pickup is fine for a contractor who is running several crews scattered about, he isn't going to be carrying tools and crap from one place to another with his new job. Yeah, maybe a new Escalade will get his attention and begin to make him realize that I want him to oversee, not get too involved with the little things.

That guy at the Cadillac dealership is going to shit when I start buying Escalades. I haven't even gotten around to buying Doctor Boswell's yet. This having to have everybody go with me everywhere I go is getting to be a drag. I love them, and love having them with me, but Diana and Laura could be doing a lot of this if I would let them. But if anything (Hagewood) happened to them, I would never forgive myself. Maybe I need to hire a bodyguard — an off duty cop. But no, that would never do. He would figure out what was going on, and the word would be out in no time. Some paparazzi camping at my back door would really piss me off. "Man With Six Wives" wouldn't sit well with the neighbors, and would probably nix our school project, as well, not to say anything about what the Colonial would think about the publicity. Shit!

I hope Frank doesn't need me anytime soon for another conference with his engineers. He'll have a stroke if I walked in with seven women, but if I have to go, they're going with me.

Ah, crap. There's another thing. With all the extra workers coming out here, I'm going to have to keep an eye on the crews. Junior or Senior might try to show up as a worker. Once I get the women trained, I'll feel a little better. Right now, if Diana saw him here, it would be a quick death for the bastard. Between maternal instincts and her ability with her pistol, I think she would shoot first and ask questions later. But the others, to a greater or lesser degree, would not be able to defend themselves against that monster. Fuck him. Why doesn't he have a heart attack and die, or something. If I see the bastard again, I'm going to give him a one way ticket to Hell. Brag about killing my family... 

We start the firearms training in earnest this morning. Maybe two hours in the morning and another two in the afternoon — every day. Boswell can have them in between.

They've been doing a good job with the dry fire. They can strip, clean and reassemble their weapons efficiently. Now we start our ball and dummy practice. I don't want to push all live fire too quickly and ingrain bad habits that will be too hard to break. All of them are smart. Smart, with incentive, and a willingness to learn usually produced a good shooter — usually. I'm worried about Jennie and Melissa, though. They have been taught to be afraid of guns, and even with the worry of Hagewood, I'm concerned that their earlier conditioning will hold them back.

Note to reader: Ball and dummy consists of loading the magazine with one or two live rounds, and the rest with dummy (non functional) rounds, all loaded randomly so the shooter does not know when a live round will fire. Thus, when the shooter flinches, or anticipates the round going off, his errors become more obvious both to himself, and the firearms instructor.

If it should be them to confront Hagewood, would they react in time? Crap, I've got to get that SOB. He can't just start killing my family. Unnoticed, Jeff's step faltered. I can't even think about one of them dying. How did I get myself into this mess?

Tears misted his eyes as he forced himself to resume his rhythm and continue on.

When Jeff got back, he walked into the kitchen after forgetting and slapping the door open at a quarter to six. No one seemed to notice. Boswell was just setting a cup of coffee in front of Dave, who was sitting at the big table writing on a legal pad. Evie had apparently joined the production line with Jeff's wives, getting breakfast ready.

Diana mouthed "quick shower," and continued with breakfast. Being the good husband that he was, he spun on his heel and headed for the suite.

As Jeff sat down at the table a little later, Dave looked up. "Good morning, Boss. How was your night?" Then thinking that Jeff might read more into what he had said than he had meant, he stammered, "Uh, I didn't..."

Jeff laughed, then thanked Melissa as she put a cup of coffee in front of him. She seized the opportunity to kiss him soundly before she turned and walked away, swaying her hips.

"Stop worrying about how I'm going to take your comments. And even if you did mean it the way you were afraid I might think you meant, that's perfectly fine, also. We kid each other unmercifully around here. You're not going to piss me off when you either intentionally or unintentionally allude to sex. Friends don't get uptight about such things, and we are going to have to be friends with as much as we are going to be together for the next couple of years. There's no telling how long this will take. So, lighten up. Just remember," he finished, laughing, "I was the one who instigated the swimsuit war last night."

"Thanks Jeff. I guess I am a little uptight. I've never really worked for anyone before, other than when I was a teenager. I spent a couple of years in college as soon as I got out of high school, then, with the help of my dad, started my contracting business. I've pretty much, always been my own boss."

Jeff took a sip of coffee, then looked back at Dave, a twinkle in his eye. "So, does this mean that you have now, officially, taken my job offer?"

Dave chuckled, then looked over at Evie, who had come to stand beside him. "Was there ever any doubt? Like the movie, but with a much better incentive, you made me (us) an offer that we couldn't refuse. So, the answer is, yeah. Hell yes. I want to build this thing. But I want you to know that my partner will be involved. I don't want her off trying to run my company while we finish up the jobs we've contracted to do. I want to let Korey take care of that whole thing, once we bring him up to speed. I want Evie with me. We've always worked together. We think alike. We're a team."

Jeff realized that there was total quiet in the kitchen. He glanced around the room at the nods. Glancing at Evie, Jeff asked, "Are you all right with this?" He tilted his head toward the others. Everyone knew he was asking about his relationship with the women, not the job.

He knew the answer from Diana's smile, even before Evie answered, "Perfectly."

"Then it's done," Jeff answered as he stuck out his hand toward Dave. Evie shook his hand as well, then hugged him. Then all his wives, and Boswell had to hug and make them welcome.

Soon, breakfast was on the table. Dave sat staring at his steak and a pile of eggs. Then looking over at Jeff's steak, five scrambled eggs, four big biscuits with butter, a glass of orange juice and a glass of milk, plus a cup of coffee. Dave asked, almost in awe, "Do you eat all that?"

Laura answered before Jeff could manage, laughter in her voice. "Oh, yeah. It will hold him for a couple of hours, but he'll have to have a snack before lunch, though." Then, almost as an afterthought, "He does have six wives," she said, a teasing grin on her face.

It was a tossup whether Evie's or Dave's face was the reddest.

"Well, I do run most every day," Jeff said, defensively. But then, everybody broke out laughing.

"Just how much do you run?" Evie asked, nodding at the abundance of food in front of Jeff.

"Well, I, uh, run an hour or two most mornings." He neglected to say at what pace, but he could see the contemplation on Evie's face.

Jeff took a couple more bites before asking, "What's with the pad?"

Dave finished cutting up his steak and speared a piece with his fork. "Evie is going to take over the range today. I was just giving her a list of things to do, and a general outline of what the finished range would have, and would look like. I'll meet Korey on the Kingston job this morning, and get him started taking over for me. If that's okay with you, of course."

Jeff smiled but couldn't answer with his mouth full. After taking a swallow of orange juice, he said, "Sure, just as long as you can swing by the Cadillac dealer and pick out your Escalade sometime today."

Dave stopped, a fork full of eggs halfway to his mouth. "Escalade? Uh, Jeff, a contractor doesn't drive an Escalade. Not that I don't think that's a beautiful vehicle, not to mention, expensive. But my pickup is just fine. I don't know how I could get along without it..."

"You're not a contractor any more. Oh, you are in name, but you're an executive now. Executives don't drive four wheel drive, monster pickups with wheelbarrows and crap in the back. The people who are going to be answering to you are going to be wearing, at least some of them, nice suits, and maybe even ties on occasion," he joked. "You are going to be their boss, and the boss of the guy who will be driving the pickup and pushing the crews to get the jobs done to your specs. Give the pickup to Korey, or buy him one. Stop by and pick up your Escalade today. If they don't have one you like, order what you want, and tell them to give you a loaner. I'll call before you get there, so there won't be any problem."

Dave just sat there. Evie elbowed him in the ribs, while smiling sweetly. "Uh, thanks Jeff. I guess I'm going to have to get used to this."

"Take your time. Just start the ball rolling with the changeover with your business. I've got to call Frank and get his input on an architect. He has built several facilities, and probably has some valuable insight. Then we," he motioned around the room, "will get together and map out a plan to start to get started on this little project.

"Now that's settled. Did you two sleep okay last night?" he tried to ask without any expression.

"Well, we did actually, but," he looked at Evie for a second, "it's a funny thing. We had the same dream. It was kind of weird. We discussed it as soon as we woke up this morning and Evie started telling me about her dream." He looked at Evie.

She shrugged, then set her coffee down. "Somehow, we both dreamed of a blue light, and something setting on our chest. Isn't that strange. How could we dream the same thing? We only had one beer each. We surely weren't drunk. And besides, that was several hours before we, uh, went to sleep."

There was a titter around the table. But Boswell's eyes were boring into Jeff's.

Jeff laughed. "Well, maybe it was the secret ingredient that the butcher said the rancher fed his beef to make the steaks taste so good."

Jeff dug back into his food, trying to downplay their "dream." I know they were deeply asleep. If I didn't know better, I would think the healer has a sense of humor. No, that's ridiculous. But no one else has ever said anything about dreaming about a blue light. Shit! I wish I could talk about this enough to ask my wives if they remember a light from last night. They haven't given any indication that they remembered anything, and no one mentioned it when I used the healer before. They all had a bit of a Cheshire grin when Evie mentioned the blue light, though. They obviously knew that I used the healer on Evie and Dave last night. They all knew I was going to after that look they gave me when Evie talked about Dave's heart condition. Oh, well, I'm getting into circular logic. I could just ask them about it later when Evie and Dave aren't around, but I know the block would shut me down before I could get a word out. Crap.

When breakfast was finished, Evie got up with the other women to start cleanup. Diana stopped her with a palm turned outward. "No way girl. You're a working woman with a crew to boss. We'll get the cleanup." Before Evie could say anything, Diana continued, "Look," she said, picking up the security remote and clicking through the cameras until she stopped on the north wing camera. She turned it and zoomed to show the range where eight men were busily engaged in starting their workday.

"We'll bring out some ice tea and a snack about nine thirty. What time are you going to break for lunch?"

"Diana, I can run pick up a sandwich."

"And spend your whole lunch hour driving? Nonsense. Don't you ever do that around here. If we're not here, just come on in and fix lunch for you two, any time. Dave knows where I hide the key, and he knows the alarm code. Now, what time?"

Evie, smiled and stood up straighter. "Twelve. We'll break at noon."

"Come on Hon," Dave said, laughing. "I'll walk out with you and show you what's going on. Then it's yours. I'll be gone the rest of the day. I'll carry Korey around to the other jobs, then get him to drop me at the Cadillac dealer. Damn, I feel good today." His voice was cut off as the kitchen door closed behind them.

There were chuckles from everyone. "Yeah, you should," Diana quietly said, topping Jeff's cup up, then laughing with the rest of them.



-------

Chapter 9


Jeff commandeered Jennie to go with him to the garage. They took the handtrucks and moved the boxes of gunbelts and holsters to the classroom. The women were not that much different in size, and with a little help, plus some grumbling, they eventually got the holsters and buckles on the belts, and the belts adjusted to their respective sizes.

"Obviously, I could have ordered web belts, or some other type of belts, but I'm partial to leather. After you wear them a few times, a lot of the stiffness will go away, and they'll get easier to buckle. The holsters," he said, holding one up, "are carbon fiber and designed to be adjusted to fit women."

"Why do we have special holsters?" Laura said, examining hers. "And I don't see any way to adjust it."

"Because," Jeff said, an evil little grin on his face, "women have a few things men don't have..."

"Jeffff..."

"... hips, and a smaller waist in proportion to those hips, than men do," he finished, smiling.

"And that means... ?" Ann questioned.

"It means," Jeff said, tightening Arlene's belt for her, "that a regular holster generally doesn't set properly on a woman's hips. Look at the way mine sets. The holster is vertical — approximately parallel with my body." He dropped one of the Glocks in her holster. "But look at Arlene. See how the gun butt sits in very close to her waist, and the bottom of the holster where the end of the barrel is, sticks way out due to the slope of her hips. Should she try to draw her weapon, she would be pulling the gun butt almost into her side. Plus the holster looks funny sticking out like that at the bottom."

"Now, Arlene, take that holster off and put this one on. I deliberately gave you a man's holster just to prove the point."

When the other holster was on the belt and adjusted, "Now look at the difference. Her weapon and holster are parallel with her leg now, the gun sitting straight up, not canted into her waist. This little block here," he said pointing, "can be adjusted with an allen wrench so the top of the holster goes either in or out, as needed. And to give them credit, other manufacturers approach the problem in different ways, at least the ones that approach it at all. Sometimes the metal shank of the holster can be bent to make the holster sit correctly. But I think this is a more logical approach.

"Okay, everybody, check your weapons like we've practiced, then holster and secure them. We'll get all the adjustments done now. If, later on, you think you need to change the adjustment a little, we will. But for now, check each other until every holster rides like mine does."

A little later, everyone was tentatively pleased with their holsters. "Another thing," Jeff said, going back to the front of the classroom, "these are all level one holsters. There are generally three levels of retention for holsters. Level one gives the least retention."

"What do you mean by 'retention?'" Jennie asked, trying to adjust her belt so it felt more comfortable.

"Well, my definition of retention might be a little different from that of some manufacturers', but generally, to me, retention is how much you have to do to get the weapon out of the holster. I.e., how secure the weapon is from an adversary getting it out of the holster. I've sold holsters, and some police departments swear by them, that require you to push down on the weapon, twist, then rock the weapon forward before the holster will release the pistol. During a physical confrontation (fight), it is very difficult for someone to get the weapon out of the police officer's holster. The only problem — it also makes it difficult for the officer to get his/her gun out, as well — particularly when in a hurry. During stressful conditions, such as being fired upon, officers have sometimes been unable to get their weapons out, period. During these high stress conditions, fine motor control frequently 'goes to shit, ' to quote a training officer that I know. Some officers have just plain forgotten the combination needed to get their weapon out.

"The instinctive thing to do is to just pull the gun straight out. But that won't work with that type of holster. Under stress, sometimes you just can't remember to push down, twist, and rock forward, or whatever other complicated procedure you need to get your weapon out of a level three holster. A thumb break is much quicker, but an adversary has almost as much chance at getting the gun as the officer does during a fight. There are pros and cons to every retention system. The holster I chose has a recessed button that you push with your index (trigger) finger that releases the pistol so that it can be drawn." Turning to the side so they could see better as he demonstrated, he continued, "As you reach for your pistol and get a grip on the weapon, your index finger naturally falls straight down on the outside of the holster." When everyone gripped their weapons the same way Jeff did, he continued, "Now your index finger is right on the release button on the holster.

"This system will have to be learned so that it becomes instinctive, but it is much easier than some. Of course, it's easier for an opponent to figure out as well. But we're not police officers who have to protect our weapons while we're in a crowd, or fighting someone. We're just going to use them on a range. Nevertheless, we will practice drawing and firing until everyone can do it without having to think about it."

"I feel like Wyatt Earp," Melissa indignantly said.

Jeff frowned at her. "The safest way to transport a handgun on a range is in a holster. Otherwise, we're going to be walking around with guns in our hands. Muzzles have to point somewhere, and even pointing down, an unholstered weapon can be a liability. A round discharged downward and hitting a sidewalk will probably ricochet, fragmenting and producing more than one missile. When we go live with these weapons, that is to say when we start using live ammunition, which would you rather have — everyone walking around with loaded pistols in their hands, or locked in their holsters?"

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't think. I should have known that you were doing everything to take care of us," she responded quietly.

Jeff walked over and hugged her. "Don't worry Baby, after you wear that gunbelt a few days, draw and fire the weapon for hours on end, you won't even notice you have the equipment on."

"I'm scared of this thing," Melissa said, her voice breaking. "It was different when I knew we were just dry firing, and there wasn't any ammunition in the gun, but now, I know we're going to go out on that range and..."

Jeff hugged her, eyeing Jennie, who was equally upset but trying not to show it. "We won't fire more than fifty rounds in the next two or three hours. We're going to start off just cycling the dummy rounds through to get you used to working the slide. Then we'll shoot ball and dummy; we'll put in four dummy rounds and one live one. We'll load each other's magazines so we won't know where the live round is. It could be the first one, the last one, or any in between. If you know that your weapon is going to fire, you tend to develop a trigger jerk, or flinch. Or both. With ball and dummy, you eventually get tired of flinching, and go a long way toward getting past the bad habits before they become ingrained. Plus you get to practice not flinching. Also, it's very difficult to tell if you flinch when the round fires. Of course, a good firearms instructor can usually see flinch. Trigger jerk and failure to focus on the front sight also have some distinct characteristics that a good instructor can recognize. Most good ones can even 'read' a target and tell what a shooter is doing wrong. Many times, the ball and dummy routine will allow even a beginning shooter to see their own problems, and correct them.

"Another thing ladies, I expect that some, if not all of you, will be mad at me before this day is over. Remember what I said about Frank, the range master back in Georgia. He insisted that you should always have someone else teach your wife to shoot. What he meant was that wives tend to get pissed at their husbands when they use the same teaching techniques with them as they would use with a regular pupil. Criticizing one's wife, and pointing out her mistakes tends to cause trouble on the home front. Also, we have to have discipline on the range to be safe. Despite what some people think about weapons," he said, looking first at Jennie then Melissa, "shooting on the range with a competent firearms instructor is one of the safest sports there is. If all of you do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it, it will be impossible for you to be seriously hurt."

"'Seriously' as opposed to not seriously hurt?" Doctor Boswell said, smiling.

"Well there is something called a Glock bite," Jeff said, deadpan.

"All right," Boswell laughed, "I'll bite. Pun intended. What is a 'Glock bite?'"

Jeff laughed, drew his weapon, checked it, then said, "Showing is better than telling. I need a volunteer."

Boswell walked up to the front of the class. "Jeff held up his weapon in a two-handed grip. "Revolvers are generally shot with one thumb over the other like I'm holding my weapon now. Doctor Boswell, please push the slide back, slowly."

As Boswell pushed the slide back, it became obvious the rear of the slide was going to hit Jeff's thumb. "Thanks Helen."

When Boswell was back in her seat, Jeff continued, "So, the same grip that works on a revolver won't, necessarily, work on an auto-loader. My Colt has a large tang at the top of the handle, or grips, if you prefer. It makes it a lot harder for the slide to hit your thumb, but the Glock, and many other auto-loaders, don't have anything to prevent this. So you either use the correct grip, or the slide bites you. Remember, it comes back almost faster than you can see. We'll carry a box of band aids to the range with us. Injuries are usually trivial, but Frank told me that he had once had someone that had to have a stitch from a bite from a Sig.

"There are a number of grips, (methods to hold a handgun) but we are going to use the one I have been teaching you since we started dry firing. Right-handed people, which we all are, should put the right thumb over the left, the left thumb parallel with the barrel. This produces a firm grip, particularly when you add the push pull we have practiced with the Weaver stance. If you all do this, we won't need any band aids.

"Okay. We all know the range rules. Now here's one of the things that's going to get me in trouble with all of you. When you break a rule, or do something stupid, or dangerous, when you flinch three times, when you have an unintentional discharge of your weapon, or when you can't tell me how many rounds you have fired... you have to do five pushups. And that's just for starters. As we progress with training, the pushups will be for every flinch, or trigger jerk. When I check your target — not today, but after we've gotten past the basics, if I should realize you haven't been properly focusing on the front sight — well, pushups will help you remember all of the basics."

Diana started laughing. "You might just as well sleep in the guest suite tonight, Big Boy."

"Yeah. You're probably right," he answered. "There's bound to be some hurt feelings, just because it's me, where with a stranger, you would just try harder not to mess up next time — which is the point of the pushups. Not only do they make you work, but they embarrass you in front of your buddies. Peer pressure, isn't always a bad thing," he finished, grinning, but he was the only one.

Jeff broke the quiet saying, "Okay, everybody get your trays. Put ten dummy rounds, your ear protection and shooting glasses in your tray, also one of the washcloths from the stack on the end of the table. They're good for wiping sweat, and grime off your hands. As we go by the garage, put one box of ammunition in your tray, too."

After they got their ammunition and started to leave the garage, "Don't pay any attention to the work crew. They're going to be looking at you as you walk out to where the target frames are. Number one: you're all fabulously beautiful women. Number two: you're wearing a gunbelt and a pistol. They have rarely, if ever,  seen one woman as pretty as you are — until they came out here, never seven at one time. And they probably have never seen a woman wearing shorts and a gunbelt, either. They have probably seen a female police officer from time to time, but she was in uniform. Now if that were eight cops out there, instead of eight construction workers, they would only notice seven beautiful women walking out to the range. They would hardly be conscious of the gunbelts, because they wear one themselves — and they see female cops in civvies on the range wearing gunbelts all the time. It's all a relative thing.

"Hold your heads up, and be proud. In a few weeks time you'll be shooting so well that they'll be admiring more than your looks."

Construction came to a screeching halt when they walked by the crew, despite Evie's haranguing of the men. "Hey, Ralph," she yelled, "close your mouth. You look stupid standing there with your trap open. Simpson, wait until I tell Millie about you pouring concrete into your boot while you gawked at the ladies. That feisty little woman of yours is going to have a thing or two to say to you."

They could hear Evie laughing at the guys halfway to where the target frames were set up.

When they got to the frames, Jeff stepped off seven yards from the target frames, then put seven fist-size stones in a line, each about four feet apart, to mark off the seven yard line and their firing positions. He had brought B27 targets, and a stack of plain copy paper. He proceeded to staple the copy paper, one each to the cardboard on the frames.

"Okay, ladies, until our range is finished, we'll practice out here. Make sure you're lined up on the little row of rocks, so everyone is the same distance from the targets. Just a foot of two makes a lot of difference in the noise impacting your ear, as well as the concussion (muzzle blast) you're definitely going to notice if you are a foot or so forward of your neighbor."

When everybody was lined up, he moved the stones so there was one in front of each person's right foot. "That's the firing line. Make sure you're in the same place every time. When the real range is done, the front of the sidewalk will mark where you stand, but we're going to have to make do until the crew finishes. Now, with everyone still facing the targets, step one step backward. With your feet shoulder-width apart, place both of your hands in the small of your back with one hand grasping the other."

When everyone had done so, "This is called parade rest. Each time when you have finished firing, you will check your weapon, lock it in your holster, then step back to this parade rest position, and remain there until I tell you differently." Before anyone could ask, he added, "This way, I can tell when everyone is finished, and I can also tell when the line is safe. As in the range rules, make certain that you never turn around on the firing line, and that your weapon is always pointed downrange at all times when it is out of your holster. I'll define downrange for you as three feet directly in front of you, straight to your target."

Jeff stepped slightly in front of everyone and demonstrated where downrange was. "If I see you point your weapon even slightly off to either side, I'll tap you three times on the shoulder. That will mean to immediately holster up, securing the weapon, and step back to parade rest." He had Jennie tap him on the shoulder. Without looking around, Jeff dropped the magazine from his weapon, locked the slide open, checked for a round in the chamber, let the slide go forward, holstered, then stepped back to parade rest.

"If this looks militarish to you," he said, grinning, "then you're wrong. Most police ranges do this or a slight variation of it, but what I've taught you came from police, not the military. The point being, you can't shoot your partner, if your weapon is pointed only downrange, or secured in your holster. You never turn around. You always double check your weapon — even after firing it empty — and you always immediately secure it in your holster. A disciplined range is a safe range.

"And before you get exasperated and start worrying that you aren't going to remember everything, I can assure you that we're going to go slowly enough as I teach each new concept, that you won't have any problem remembering anything. If you do," he added, grinning, "the pushups will be a great memory enhancement. In a few weeks, I'll probably have to increase the amount to ten, instead of the five I promised you, since you will be getting stronger."

The women were not amused by his comment, and at least one of them, Diana, knew he was serious, grin or not.

"Alright, we're going to walk through a firing stage, although we're going to only dry fire. Since your trays with your equipment are setting beside you, you won't have to turn around to do this. "Firing positions! That means step to the position I've showed you." When everyone had done so, he continued, "Put your safety glasses and ear protection on. And, " as several of the women said something to the one standing beside them, "no talking to anyone other than me, unless the line is secure, and I'll tell you when that happens."

He got a couple of dirty looks for that one, but everyone got their glasses and ear protection on without further comment.

"We're going to dry fire five rounds. That means that, when I give the command to check your weapons, you will draw your gun, keeping it pointed downrange. Then you will take the magazine out, lock the slide back and double check to see that the weapon is empty, check to see that the magazine is empty, reinsert the magazine, and release the slide. Then return the weapon to a secured holster. When I give the command to fire, you will draw, dry fire five rounds, check the weapon, then holster. Don't panic. We're going to do everything that I just mentioned one step at a time, in the beginning."

Jeff spent the next thirty minutes slowly walking them through the steps he had just outlined. Then they loaded five dummy rounds each in two magazines, and worked with those, spending another fifteen minutes getting them accustomed to reloading as the first magazine was emptied. When everyone could do the whole procedure flawlessly without any intervention from him, he called a break and opened the cooler of soft drinks that he had brought with him.

When everyone had a drink and had gathered around him, Jeff took a sip, put the bottle down, and picked up a sheet of typing paper from the stack. Picking up a stray piece of the cardboard backing Dave had used for the target frames, Jeff knelt down. Laying the paper on the cardboard so the paper would have some support, he said, "I need a guinea pig, uh, I mean a volunteer," he teased.

"Okay," Ann said, laughing. "How bad can it be? He's only got a blank sheet of paper."

"And a pen," Jeff laughed, producing one from his pocket.

Ann knelt down beside him. "What do you want me to do?"

Just put a dot in the exact center of the paper. And before you do that, I'll remind everyone that it's a standard piece of copy paper — eight and a half by eleven inches. A rectangle. So the dot will be equidistant from the top and bottom, in other words, five and a half inches from the top and bottom, but four and a quarter inches from the sides.

"Let me have the ruler," she said, reaching for a foot ruler Jeff had just taken out of his bag.

"No," Jeff objected. "Do it with your eye."

Ann stared at him for a second, then after carefully looking at the paper while moving her pen either way a little, she started to mark it.

"You only get one chance, so make sure you're right, and don't put a mark on it until you're sure."

Ann looked back at Jeff then moved the pen close, but not touching. She checked what she thought was center from the sides, then looked top to bottom. After moving the pen up and down a little, then checking to see if the horizontal still seemed right, she put a dot on the paper.

Jeff quickly measured from the side edge of the paper to the dot. "Four and a quarter. Dead on horizontally. Now let's measure from the top. After a second, he said, showing everyone the measurement, "She missed it a whole quarter inch on the vertical measurement," he teased. "Instead of five and a half down from the top, she put the mark at five and three quarters. Excellent judgement."

"Hey, that neat," Jennie said. Obviously everyone else agreed. "You're sharp Ann," Jennie finished.

Jeff picked up the paper and put it back on the stack on the ground, putting a small rock back in place to keep the paper from blowing away.

As he stood up, he could tell by their faces that they were beginning to figure it out. "Yeah, that what you're going to be doing in a few minutes, only with the Glock and a bullet, instead of a ballpoint pen. It's called shooting center of mass. And it's the way you shoot with a handgun in a hurry up gunfight — meaning that you don't have time to carefully aim at an individual's head, or particular area of the body, just center the sights on center of mass and pull the trigger.

"Obviously, an assailant won't have an x-ring drawn out on his chest, but your eye (your brain) can very easily determine center of mass. Look at the silhouette targets," he said, taking one from the box, then unrolling the target on the ground. "They are marked with faint scoring rings, starting with the seven ring, all the way to the center, where there is a small oval with an 'x' in it. Again, obviously, that 'x' ring is center of mass. At twenty-five yards, most people can't see the faint scoring rings on the B27 target, but your eye can find center of mass, and that's what you shoot at.

"And yeah, Doctor Boswell," he teased, "I know that I left an 'at' hanging on the end of the sentence, but 'where you shoot' just isn't as descriptive as 'what you shoot at.'"

Melissa broke in before Boswell could respond, "Crap, Jeff. Do you mean to tell us that we're going to shoot at something, and be graded on our performance, when we can't even see that something that we're trying to shoot?"

Jeff just looked at her, then said, "Yep."

Before they started to revolt, he continued. "Oh, you can see the 'x, ' and all the scoring rings from the seven and fifteen where we will be shooting for several days. However, since you will be focused on the front sight, and not on the target, you still won't be able to make out the rings very clearly, even from those distances, if you're properly focused on the front sight. The target should be slightly blurry. If you can see the rings clearly, or the 'x' while you're shooting, then you know that you haven't properly focused on the front sight like you're supposed to. Ladies, this is important, if you cheat now when you are just learning proper techniques, and try to see the front sight while focusing on the target, you will never be more than a fair shooter.

"Oh, I'll teach you later, how to focus on the front sight, then shift your focus momentarily to the target, then back. But that's for an expert, and if you start trying to do that at this point, Diana and Laura excluded, you will develop a bad habit that will take many pushups to break," he finished, dryly.

Diana stepped over and rested a hand on her husband's shoulder as he stood back up. Turning to the others, she said, "Laura, Arlene and Ann know this, but I guess the rest of you don't. Jeff sold some guns to one of the police departments at cost. The department was on a tight budget, and couldn't afford enough weapons at the regular price. So Jeff helped them out and didn't make any profit at all. No faked up invoices, like you get with an auto dealer, really cost — and that cost was a very good price to start. So the department owed him — big time. And the chief knew it.

"Jeff had already taught me to shoot, but he wanted me to go through the rookie firearms course at the police department. They made me sign the usual waver that you sign when you shoot on the police range, and nothing more. The department ran their rookies through a six-week prep class before sending them to the state police academy. Jeff says it's a way to weed out some of the new people before the city spent a lot of money on them, and then they flunked out of the academy. At any rate, since I had not been with them through the five weeks of class before the week of firearms training, the lead instructor implied that I was a rookie from another department that was going straight into undercover vice. And to not ask me any questions. And to ignore me if they saw me out somewhere.

"I got a one week firearms course — if your can call that hell, a course, including night fire and final qualifications. Six straight twelve-hour days, with a four-hour night fire, which included every type of light from almost total darkness to four police cars with their strobes going right behind us while we shot — not to say anything about four sirens going at the same time. Those strobes made our targets look like they were dancing side to side a foot in either direction."

When any of the instructors, or God forbid, the range master, looked at the grouping of rounds on the target and realized that the student wasn't focusing on the front sight, then they had to do twenty pushups, plus an instructor looked over the student's shoulder for a while after that. The guy beside me got the twenty pushups, and the chewing. Then of course, he was shook up, and threw the next few rounds. More pushups, more yelling — and suddenly, his group shrank so that it quartered in size. You can't focus on the target, and see the front sight sharply enough to shoot a tight group. You must focus on the front sight. It seems wrong, but it's the only way that you will ever be a good shooter."

Looking at her husband, she blushed and said, "I'm sorry Honey. I guess I got carried away."

"Jeff, felt proud enough of her to hug her, which he did, saying, "You heard the lady. She's been there, done that. Let your eye find the natural center of mass as you focus on your front sight. Gently squeeze the trigger, just like we trained with our dry fire both in the house and out here, and a week from now, you'll be amazed how far you will have come."

"So that's the reason you stapled up sheets of paper on the target frames," Laura said.

"You got it," Jeff grinned. "I'm not trying to be cheap. We'll go to the B27 targets in a little while, but first, we're going to practice shooting center of mass with an unmarked sheet of copy paper just to convince you that your brain can naturally determine the center of mass."

Jeff finished his drink and set the empty bottle down by his bag. "Finish up. We're going to cycle one more magazine with five dummy rounds, then go to ball and dummy. One of your five rounds will then be live. Cycle through all five, even if the first round happens to be the live one. You learn on the dummy rounds, the live one is in there to keep you honest, and check your progress.

"Concentrate. Go over the things I've taught you as you're squeezing the trigger. Make it almost a mantra, constantly repeating the basics to yourself as you squeeze the trigger. Concentrate on what you're doing. Just continue to squeeze until the gun goes off and surprises you. If you have done everything as I have told you, the round will be in the ten ring. A week from now, at this close distance, the rounds will mostly be in the 'x' ring — if you do everything right.

"After we spend a couple of days on the basics at the seven yard line, we'll move to the fifteen, then eventually to the twenty-five. After that, we'll start the cycle over again, back to the seven, and speed things up, eventually moving back to the twenty-five, but firing a lot faster than we did on the first pass.

"Once you have the basics down, we'll go to all, or mostly all, live fire. We'll go back to ball and dummy from time to time so you can see if you have developed a flinch, or trigger jerk."

Doctor Boswell looked at the new range for a moment, then turning to Jeff, asked, "Isn't our range going to be fifty yards?"

"Yeah, it is. But don't sweat it. I know that looks like an awful long way to shoot with a handgun, but when we shoot from that distance we will be propped against a barricade, sitting, or prone. Some of the old revolver matches used the fifty yard line exclusively, and they shot freehand. After some of the good ones shot, you couldn't find the 'x' on the target. But we're not trying for that. We're going to concentrate on combat shooting after we get the basics down pat. But don't ever think that a pistol can't be used effectively at fifty yards, especially in the hands of an expert.

"Okay, back to it ladies."

-------

An hour and a half later, they had fired a total of forty-five rounds each, all ball and dummy. Everyone was tired, most of them had blisters, or at least sore fingers from manually working the slide to eject the dummy rounds. Everyone had done pushups, including Diana, although Jeff was positive that Diana had deliberately jerked the trigger while he was watching so that she would be assigned pushups and could be an example for the others, particularly the girls.

Melissa and Jennie, mostly because they were afraid of the guns, tended to jerk the trigger and flinch more than the others, and thus, wound up doing more pushups. Jennie managed to conquer her errors a little faster than Melissa, who was still shooting poorly.

There were five rounds left in their box of ammo when Jeff told them they would fire one more magazine of ball and dummy. All the shooters loaded a magazine for their partner with one live, and four dummy rounds. Jeff loaded Melissa's magazine and slid it into the butt of her pistol as she stood on the firing line.

"On the firing line. Charge your weapons!"

Everyone drew their pistols, racked the slide to chamber a round, then returned their weapons to their holsters, awaiting the next command.

Melissa was furious. She continued to stare at the target, hoping no one would notice the tears streaming down her face. Jeff had humiliated her. It seemed as if he had constantly stood behind her giving instructions which she just couldn't seem to follow. He had made her do pushups until her arms were trembling, and he still wasn't satisfied.

Melissa glared at the target. Frozen in place, knowing better than to move, she waited for Jeff's commands. I hate this fucking gun. He's got the last blowjob he's ever going to get from me! I hate this fucking gun. I can't do anything right... 

Jeff stood behind the women, checked the line to make sure everyone was ready, then, Ready on the right. Ready on the left. Ready on the firing line! Fire!

Melissa drew her weapon along with everyone else. A few seconds later, there was a series of snaps from the other stations as everyone pulled the trigger on a dummy round. Melissa concentrated and thought, Bring the weapon up, arms fully extended, push with the master hand, pull back with the weak. My weapon is pointed at the center of the target, now focus on the front sight — fuck this, I hate this. Top of front sight level with the rear, equal light on either side of the front post, target a blur, just keep the sight centered, keep squeezing, keep the sight level — blam — I hate this. Who needs to learn to shoot, anyway? Why doesn't he just hire a cop to protect us? Blam. Front sight level — it's drifting, and I'm shaking some, — blam — fuck this. I hate this. I hate those fucking pushups. Somebody else better give him — blam — some pussy tonight. He sure isn't getting any from me. Front sight in sharp focus. Squeeze the fucking trigger — blam.

Her slide locked back, and she pushed the release and dropped the magazine. Check, and check again. Put your finger in. His stupid little rhyme,  she grumped to herself as she put her index finger through the ejection port and felt for the back of the barrel to make sure there wasn't a round there. Release the slide, holster, pull a little on the weapon to see that it's secured. Step back to his fucking parade rest.

Only then did she hear the cheering as her eyes really took in her target.

The line is secure! Jeff yelled as he grabbed her from behind, lifting her off her feet as he hugged her. "Look at your target, Sweetheart," Jeff said, his voice sounding odd. "Five rounds, Baby. Five rounds out of five in the ten ring. Excellent!"

"But I..."

"You were so pissed at me, you forget to be scared of the gun, and you did what I asked you to do. You didn't even notice..."

"... that all my rounds were all live," Melissa stammered. "I didn't even notice." She still didn't know whether to be mad or glad, but she kissed him anyway.

Later, she stood staring at her target until Arlene laughed and took it down to carry back to the house with them. "You've got to save this one, girl," Arlene said, smiling as she handed it to Melissa.

Jeff couldn't seem to wipe the grin off his face. He wound up hugging all his wives, and their teacher. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to teach them. Especially Jennie and Melissa. But they're all doing just fine. An occasional flier every now and then, but most of the rounds are in the ten ring, except Diana's, of course. He motioned with his eyes at her target — at the hole where the "x" used to be. Then winked at her. She just grinned back at him while she praised Jennie and Melissa for overcoming their fear of guns.

So all the wives could hear, Diana said, "Looks like you're going to get to sleep with us after all, Husband, although it was an iffy thing there for a while," she laughed.

Jeff swatted her lightly on the ass, knowing that Diana had just told the others that they were not going to carry any of their frustrations back to the house, or to their bed. Jeff grinned and tried to thank her with his eyes. "Okay everybody. Good job. We're way ahead of where I thought we would be after our first three hours on the range. Let's police up the brass and head back inside. Diana. Just for the heck of it, leave your target up. The crew is bound to be out here checking during their lunch break. That hole where the 'x' used to be should give them something to talk about."

"In a couple of weeks, it's going to sound like a young war when all seven of you are rapid firing. Too bad the crew won't be where they can hear it." Then again, we might just set up a little demonstration for them once we get into combat shooting. Yeah,  he mused, knowing that they're going to put on a demonstration will add a little extra incentive for the women. That might work just fine, and give them a little pride for a job well done.

Back at the house a few minutes later, Jeff called Dave on his cell phone, making arrangements to meet him at the Cadillac dealership at one. "By the way, what color do you want. I'll call and get them to prep one so we don't have to wait."

"Well," Dave said, "I really don't care."

"If that's the case, why don't we get a red one. You're going to have a lot of people working for you, and I want your vehicle to be distinctive."

Dave laughed. "Lime green or yellow can be quite distinctive." Before Jeff could say anything, Dave continued, "But I don't want to be that distinctive. Red sounds great. Evie will have kittens; she loves red."

Jeff paused a moment. "When Evie gets everything squared away with your company so she can be a real help to you with my projects, we'll have to buy her one, sneak it out here, and put a bow on top."

"Shit Jeff. I know those things have to cost fifty grand, or more."

"Actually, you're a little low. But I have the money. Now, end of conversation. I've got to scramble if I'm going to meet you at one."

Jeff hung up. After digging the dealer's card out of his billfold, he called and spoke with the sales manager. Mr. Dunham remembered selling the Escalade to Wainwright, Inc., and even remember having had it delivered to the airport, and an extra set of snow tires sent to the convention center.

I bought the convention center, and we're using it as our home. I'm starting several rather large projects, and have just hired someone to supervise those projects. I want him to have a distinctive vehicle, yet be able to accommodate several passengers. We have been pleased with the Escalade we have, and unless I change my mind, I'm going to purchase at least three more of them. I want everything you can put on one, except the sunroof. I don't like a sunroof. I also want an extra set of wheels mounted with your best snow tires. We live on a mountain.

"While we're there, we might as well pick up an Escalade for our teacher, and one for my assistant. One wanted a green one, the other, blue. I want red for the manager. Do you have those in stock, and can you have them prepped by one today? I told my construction manager to meet me there. And I want to deal with you. Not a salesman."

"Mr. Matthews, I'll be glad to personally wait on you..."

"Mr. Dunham, I don't want to be an ass, but I got a couple of prices on the internet from other dealers. I don't want to haggle when I get there. But I don't want to get ripped off either. Keep in mind when you're calculating the price, that I'm buying three of the Escalades with everything on them, plus an extra set of wheels. Not to mention another red one in a few weeks. And, I'll be a repeat customer, if I'm pleased."

"Uh, do you mind telling me what they quoted you?"

"I said I didn't want to haggle. Just give me the best price you can. If it isn't in the ballpark, I'll simply go to one of the other dealers. And I won't be back. Oh, and you need to arrange to bring the wheels up to the convention center like you did the other set."

"I'll have to have some people work through their lunch hour, but we'll have the three vehicles ready when you get here."

"Everything but the wheels. You can bring them up sometime during the next two weeks.

"Mr. Dunham, please understand that I really have some other things to do this afternoon. I would appreciate it if you would expedite this."

"Uh, will there be any financing that I should have ready?"

Jeff sighed inwardly, thinking how lucky he had been. "No Sir. I plan to do it with a debit card, if that's all right with you."

"Oh, that would be excellent, Sir. Please forgive me for asking, but if you were going to need financing, I was going to get started on the paperwork."

"We'll see you at one, or a little after. But one thing, please. If you run into problems, do it right. If it's a little late, it isn't that big a problem. But making a two and a half hour drive one way, then finding that we have to take a vehicle back to the dealership because the prep hasn't been done right would be a real irritant. So please caution your people. And fill the damn things up. I don't want to have to stop and gas up three vehicles before we get home."

"Oh, we do that anyway, Sir. We'll be ready, and everything will be right."

As soon as Jeff hung up the phone, Diana asked, "What's the big hurry?"

"Well, I wanted to get back and spend a couple more hours with the firearms training."

Diana looked at her watch. "Even if everything goes quickly at the dealership, it will be five or after when we get home. Everyone will be tired. What's that you used to say about finishing on a high note for the day? Those girls are ecstatic, particularly Melissa and Jennie. If I were you, I would carry them out to eat at a nice restaurant, then start back with the training in the morning."

Jeff hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah, you're right Babe. Thanks for straightening me out. Let me get a quick shower, and I'll put on some nicer clothes. We'll do just that. Heck, we haven't gone out in quite a while."

"Jeff, we haven't gone to a really nice place since we interviewed Doctor Boswell."

"Well, it hasn't been that long. Things have just been happening." He caressed a breast and kissed her for a moment. "I'll be right back. Oh, and you need to tell everyone to dress nice, I guess."

Diana laughed. "I already have. And take your time. You'll be ready before those girls, anyway. They're having too good a time telling each other about their shooting."

They were thirty minutes late getting to the dealership. Melissa and Jennie were turned on by the shooting, and were ecstatic that they had finally done well, not to mention conquering most of their fear of guns. They had attacked him in the shower, then had to do their hair all over again.

Jeff finally managed to get his clothes on, looking a little shell shocked. Diana smirked at him, then casually told Melissa she needed to wipe her mouth. Melissa jerked, then looked in the mirror. Then did a double take.

"There isn't anything on my mouth..." Her face slowly changed color as she realized she had been had.

Diana smiled at her and winked.

Melissa grinned. "How many vehicles are we going in?" she asked, trying to overcome the blush, as she kissed Diana on the cheek.

"One down, three back," Jeff answered from his seat on the bed as he slipped his shoes on. "But Dave will be driving one of the new ones, and Doctor Boswell, the other."

Diana, having heard Jeff's end of the conversation with the dealer, raised an eyebrow and looked at Jeff, but didn't say anything.

"Okay, let's load up, ladies," he said, grinning. "We'll grab a burger on the way to tide us over."

As the women went out the back, Jeff lagged back, then made another phone call.

-------

When they arrived at the dealer, there were two Escalades, a red one and a blue one, sitting by themselves near the side entrance.

Doctor Boswell looked at Jeff. "That guy must really want your business. Surely even a new Escalade doesn't shine that much. That looks like a real wax job."

The women stopped to ooh and aah over the SUV's while Jeff went inside. As soon as he was through the doors, a salesman asked if he was Mr. Matthews. When Jeff acknowledged that he was, he was escorted into the sales managers office. Dave got up, along with Mr. Dunham, and shook Jeff's hand.

"I was about to get worried about you, Boss."

"Sorry, I got delayed a bit," Jeff said, trying not to laugh.

After the pleasantries were over and Jeff was sitting with a cup of coffee in front of him, Dunham said, "I've got the paperwork ready on all the vehicles."

Jeff checked the price, glancing once at Dunham's stressed face.

Mr. Matthews, that's the absolute best I can do. You said you didn't want to uh, argue about price, and..."

Jeff looked at him a moment, then relented. No use stressing him any more. The price was obviously good. Actually quite a bit under the quotes he had gotten on the internet. Jeff pulled his card out of his billfold. "Let's get this done."

A little later, everyone was standing outside, as Mr. Dunham ran off the three salesmen that were ostensibly showing the Escalades features to the women.

"Sorry about that," Dunham quietly said to Jeff.

Arlene and Jennie gave a little finger wave to the salesmen as they left, then grinned at Jeff.

"Oh, they didn't do anything out of line," Jeff replied, "... since no one is laying on the ground with Diana standing over them," he added with an expressionless face.

Dunham looked shocked, but before he could say anything else, Dave shook Jeff's hand again and said, "Thanks again, Jeff. I still have several things to do. I've got to run or I'll never make it back before quitting time."

As Dave drove off in the red SUV, Jeff motioned to Dunham, who quickly dialed his cell.

"Okay. Who's going to ride with me, and who's going to ride with Helen?"

As Laura started to get in the passenger seat of Doctor Boswell's car, Jeff loudly asked, "Laura, why are you getting in with Helen? Why don't you drive your own vehicle?"

Timed to the second, a green Escalade pulled up behind Boswell's SUV. One of the salesmen got out and held the door, looking expectantly at Laura.

Laura looked stunned for a second, then swarmed Jeff, kissing him thoroughly.

"Jeff, I told you I didn't need a car right now," she said, her faced flushed.

"You will in the future. And besides, I told you I was going to buy you one. Now get that pretty little ass in your new car, and we'll go do a little shopping, then find a nice place to eat."

Laura kissed him again, thoroughly, then ran to her new car.

Just for the heck of it, Diana kissed Jeff just as thoroughly, then winked at Doctor Boswell.

Boswell, being no slouch herself, and certainly wanting to thank Jeff for her new vehicle, also checked out his tonsils. Boswell and Laura, each with a wicked grin, got in their cars, ready to leave.

Jeff shook hands with Dunham and the salesman, then got in the Escalade and left, the two other Escalades following his.

"You don't suppose..." the salesman said.

"I just think that's one lucky son-of-a-bitch," Dunham said as he watched the parade of Escalades turn the corner.



-------

Chapter 10


The parade pulled in just before six. Dave's Red Escalade was parked over by the garage, giving Jeff, Doctor Boswell, and Laura plenty of room to park near the back door.

"Welcome to Escaladeville," Laura said laughing as she jumped on Jeff as soon as he got out of his vehicle. She locked her legs around his waist like the girls frequently did, and kissed him.

When Diana walked past, Laura turned Jeff loose and grabbed Diana's arm, spinning her around. Before she could react, Laura deep kissed her, then as she broke the kiss, whispered, "Thanks. I know you pushed him a little. And I know I didn't need it, at least not yet, but, wow, it's nice."

Diana just grinned at her. "All I did was remind him."

Helen, a little more restrained now that she wasn't performing for the salesman and Mr. Dunham, pulled Jeff's head down and gently kissed him. "I've got the best job in the world," she said, tears in her eyes. Turning to Ann and Jennie who were watching, albeit with a smirk on their faces, she said, "Let's go change. I need to swim some laps."

When all the rest were inside, Diana put her arm around her husband's waist as they walked to the back door. "It's not laps that she needs, Husband. When are you going to make love to her?"

Jeff stopped like he had slammed into a wall. "Diana... shit. Don't say things like that. I've got all the women I need. And certainly all I can handle. I..."

"Bullshit," Diana interrupted rounding in front of him, then hugging him tight, pressing her breasts against his chest. "You've got us walking around with sore pussies half the time, and none of us have gone lacking." Leaning back to look at him, she continued, "That woman is so in love with you that she can't keep her eyes off you. I don't know if it's the healer, or just being around our Alpha Male, but she looks, and acts younger. She's so full of energy she seems like a teenager in heat."

"In heat?" he asked, laughing.

"Yeah, my dad used to say that when he would see a couple of teenage girls, usually about fourteen or fifteen, walking through the neighborhood. He said they were in heat and 'looking to get bred.' Sometimes I think he was right, if a little crude."

"But Diana, about Doctor Boswell, well, we all took a vow."

"We took a vow to forsake all other men. You didn't take any such vow. I know. I wrote it. You're just dodging. Helen is one of us. She smart, she's good looking, and she loves you. And, calling her smart is almost an insult. We all need her, and not just to teach us, either. She'll make a lifelong friend, and sister-wife. She will, also,  make you another wife you can be proud of."

"Diana, you're my wife, I don't..."

Diana slammed the heel of her fist into his chest. "Don't you ever call me your wife with that inflection. You're saying I'm your wife, and they're not. I'm your first wife, and in addition, I'm the boss bitch, and always will be as long as there's a breath in my body. But don't you ever think that any of your wives is less than I am. I'm your legal wife, but that has nothing to do with us, and you know it. By now, all of them have their rings on, and they would wear them when we go out if they could. When the girls are all eighteen, look out. Whether society likes it or not, they'll present themselves as your wives. Don't you ever slip up and let that inflection get into your voice where they might hear. I'm one of your wives, unless we're in public. Then you can introduce me as your wife, like you did to the sheriff. But be careful, even then. You don't want seven females on your case."

"Seven?" Jeff said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Seven! And about you making love to Helen," Diana said, gently pinching his cheek. "I didn't mean for you to fuck her. Save that until she becomes your wife, but do a little more than rub her pussy with your hand. Make love to her. I'll tell her it's going to happen so she doesn't feel guilty."

"Diana. I respect her. I like her, and yes, I guess I love her a little too, but I don't know..."

"She lost her husband and her sister-wife. She's finally found a family. What are we going to do? Send her to play with a vibrator every time we head for the bedroom? She's in love with you. Pick her up, carry her to bed and lick her pussy until her eyes cross. I know she's tired of hearing those girls, not to mention, Laura and I, rave about you. Just do it."

"Now kiss your first wife, then let's go inside and fix you a shake."

"Now wait a minute. I don't need one of those things. They put me out as soon as I drink one. I want to talk to Dave about some things."

"Not tonight. Remember, you told him forty hours a week. Well, this has been a twelve hour day for him already. He needs his mind off work for a while. Besides he has a heart condition."

"Not any more he doesn't," Jeff managed to get out, looking pleased that he was able to say it past his conditioning.

"Good. I thought maybe you had used the healer. But let's go have a good time with our new employees. I'll relent on the shake until later. But, I'll bet Dave and Evie are ready to go home, and there is no sense in it, not tonight. If they need clothes, they can wash the ones they have with them. I need to get in and fix dinner for them. They both must be starved. Let's have fun with them, but avoid work talk," she finished as she kissed him and turned to go.

Jeff stood for a minute. Well, Helen's titties did feel nice pressed against me when we kissed at the dealer's, but I don't need another wife. He felt his dick begin to swell, Ah crap.

After a few steps, Diana turned with a questioning look on her face, then looked toward his groin. As a smirk touched her lips, she crooked her finger for Jeff to come there.

When he reached her, she moved a hand for his dick, but he twisted aside, avoiding her. "Stop, Baby. I'm trying to let it go down."

"Been thinking about Helen's titties, haven't you?" she teased, dancing away from him, giggling, as he flicked at her ass with the back of his finger tips.

As they burst through the door into the kitchen, still teasing each other, Dave looked up from a stack of papers he was reading, a cup of coffee sitting beside him.

Diana made straight for the paperwork, took the stack away from a protesting Dave, and put it on the counter. "Work is done until tomorrow."

Evie, who was helping Laura and Arlene cook dinner, turned with a smile on her face.

"But, I was just..."

Diana stood facing Dave across the table. Putting her hands on her hips, and assuming a fake frown, "Eight hours a day, remember. And that's from the boss bitch, " she finished in the gruffest voice she could conjure up. The giggle at the end made her proclamation lose much of its punch, however.

"Way to go. Tell him girl," Evie said.

Jeff sat down at the head of the table. Arlene was there with a cup of coffee almost before he could pull his chair up, and thoroughly kissed him. When she prissed back to the cooking, Jeff looked over at Dave. "Well now, do you fish any?"

Diana laughed, as did Laura, who caught on immediately. "Alright, alright. Dave, Jeff would have to have directions to bait a hook," Diana said, laughing. "He's never fished in his adult life. It doesn't have to be that bad, gentlemen, but let's keep it light. Dave and Evie, we just meant for you to enjoy yourselves," Diana said, sitting at the table across from Dave. "They're three tennis courts and a volleyball court out there," she said, waving toward the back, "and they have lights. We have a game room that's packed. There are hundreds of DVD movies in the theater, plus the swimming pool is always an option, not to mention the weight and exercise room. Or you can ride four-wheelers, or the vacuum, for that matter," she said, fighting a laugh. "If you want to just relax, or watch TV, the living room is just down the hall, of course, or if you want to go back to your suite and just be together, that's fine too. But no serious work stuff," she finished putting a pout on her face.

"Ride the vacuums?" Evie and Dave said, almost in unison.

"You haven't seen the riding vacuums?" Diana and Laura did ask in unison.

Evie glanced at Diana, then back to Laura? "No," Evie answered, looking at her husband.

"We can have a race," Arlene said, joining the conversation.

"A race?" Dave answered, laughing. "You race vacuum cleaners? What do you do, pour dirt on the carpet and see who can vacuum it up the fastest, like that commercial on TV?"

Jeff grinned at Dave. "You're not even close. Think riding floor scrubber that you see at the supercenter. Only these are vacuum cleaners. They are low and sleek, though, not like that cumbersome thing at Wal-Mart. They won't exactly do zero to sixty in six seconds, but they will go. They have propane engines and a decent muffler system, although two of them in the same hallway make quite a bit of noise, especially at full throttle. You know Frank's motto," he said, laughing. "'If it's expensive, buy several of them.' There isn't a brand name on them. I suspect he had his company make them especially for the conference center. There's one on each floor."

Dave just looked at him. "Races?"

Jeff took a sip of coffee and leaned back. "I caught Arlene and Ann sneaking the one from this floor onto the freight elevator. Before I knew it, I was the one waving the checkered flag."

"It was not checkered, or a flag," Arlene laughed. "It was my green panties, as you well know, since you pulled them off me to have something to wave," she finished, giggling.

When the laughing died down, Jeff said, "Oh, that reminds me, Dave. Sometime in the future, have someone fix the paneling in the north wing on the second floor. Ann got on the inside and crowded Arlene as they turned the corner in the hallway."

Dave laughed. "Yeah, I can do that. Once I get the crew stopped laughing long enough, and by the way. Just how drunk were you while you were waving the 'checkered flag?'"

"'Drunk, '" Diana repeated, rolling her eyes. "Other than that beer he drank with you last night, the only thing he has had since we moved here was a glass of wine each night as he married the six of us. Even then, it was usually only a half-glass."

"No," Jeff laughed, "I didn't have an excuse. I was stone sober. But before you knock it, you're going to have to ride one of those vacuums. The girls even vacuum most of the bigger rooms with them, as well as the hallways. The vacuums will just clear some of the doorways with little room to spare. Of course, you have to move all the furniture to the side of the rooms, but on these big rooms, it still cuts down on the work. Plus it's fun."

"Jeff married all six of you?" Evie sighed, tears in her eyes. "I heard you mention wives before, but I just thought that you... well."

"Sit," Diana said. As Evie did, Laura turned back to the cooking.

Diana put her hand over Evie's. "It started when Ann came for a visit, and wound up asking me if Jeff could be her first."

"And," Jeff interrupted, "since it was Diana orchestrating this, it wound up to be an occasion," he finished, grinning.

Diana winked at her husband. "Men. We bought dresses for each of us. Had the catering service come in, put out some flower arrangements, had dinner for Ann and Jeff, then he picked her up and carried her into the bridal suite for her 'wedding' night. I guess it caught on. And I sure wasn't going to miss my turn. Finally, we had a ceremony with all us wives, and exchanged rings with him in the living room at sunset, standing next to the glass wall. It was beautiful with the evening sun turning everything golden as we said our vows."

"I wish you had invited us. We would have loved to have seen it."

"We didn't know you well enough then. You two and Helen are the only ones who know. But if you really want to see any of it, we had a video camera going during each dinner, and during the ring ceremony, as well."

"I would love to see it," Evie said, "but sometime when we're not rushed and we can all be together."

Evie glanced at Jeff. "I have a feeling that you..."

Jeff sighed. "Just remember. I don't show just anybody a video of me blubbering."

"Oh, you weren't that bad," Diana laughed.

"Yeah, well, I can remember not being able to kiss very long because my nose was stopped up. And I used my share of tissues."

"Getting back to the options you were giving us," Evie said, smiling, "We had originally thought about going for a drive in Dave's new Escalade. Actually just leaving my pickup here, and driving the Cadillac home. I've never driven a Cadillac before, certainly not an Escalade. And we need to get back home pretty early tonight. We would have already gone, but Dave wanted to talk to Jeff for a minute."

Laura and Diana looked at each other. Diana turned back to Evie, "How long does it take you to get home?"

"Oh, about an hour I guess."

"There's just the two of you, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Evie answered. "Our folks live in Denver."

Diana seemed to reconsider for a second. "Well, you're certainly going to eat before you go, but I still think you could wash your clothes, stay the night, and it would be much easier on you tomorrow. You could always go for a short drive, then come back here. But that's up to you."

"Oh, my gosh," Dave said, elaborately sniffing the air.

"That is southern fried chicken that you smell," Laura said, putting a pitcher of tea mixed with crushed ice on the table.

"I guess that settles it," Evie laughed at the look on her husband's face, "we're staying for supper. Isn't that what you call it in the south?"

Diana grinned back at her. "If we're just eating a regular evening meal at home, we generally call it supper. If we go out, we tend to call it dinner."

"Iced, sweet tea with lemon. And the ice is crushed, not just cubes. Isn't that's the way it's supposed to be served," Dave laughed.

"Definitely crushed. And we have creamed potatoes and gravy, and slaw."

"We're out of turnip greens," Diana said, laughing, "or we could really go southern."

"Turnip greens are just spinach on steroids," Jeff said, joining in. "But don't forget the hot pepper sauce to go with them."

Almost before they were through teasing each other about southern cooking, Arlene put a bowl of creamed potatoes on the table in front of Dave — a large bowl, with a big gravy boat, heaping full of gravy to accompany it.

Evie got up to help, and soon came back with a large platter of fried chicken, while the others set the table and brought over the rest of the food.

"Don't worry you two. What you don't eat, Jeff will take care of," Diana quipped as she put a plate down for him as well.

"Oh, so I'm a garbage disposal now, huh?"

From Laura, "No you just have..."

"... six wives," seven women said in unison, as Helen and the rest of them came through the kitchen door.

Jeff groaned, but couldn't stop the blush, then tried to bluster his way with, "I run a lot," but it fell flat, since everyone was already laughing.

"But aren't the rest of you going to eat," Evie asked when she realized that the table wasn't set for more people.

"Oh, we all had an early dinner at a nice restaurant after we left Denver."

Everyone looked pointedly at Jeff, who was heaping creamed potatoes onto his plate. That started the teasing again.

Dave and Evie didn't gain a lot of extra sleep by not driving home, but Evie smoked him coming down the last straightaway on the second floor. Dave kept complaining it wasn't fair since he outweighed Evie so much.

"Your vacuum runs faster than mine."

"Oh, pooh. I beat you on the corners, and you know it," she lied. They went toward their suite arm and arm at eleven, laughing, still having to wash their clothes before they went to bed. But it was obvious what they were going to do while they were waiting for the machine to finish.

-------

At four, Jeff wormed his way out of bed without waking his wives. After using the bathroom, he dressed, put his gun on, picked up his LED flashlight, and walked out the back. He grinned as he started his warm-up jog, thinking about the vacuum cleaner races last night. Even with the propane engines, the second floor had begun to smell. He had put the air conditioning system on outside exchange before they started the vacuums, as they always did when they used them, but he had been a little worried that the carbon monoxide level might still go up too much with two motors running wide open. He and Dave had brought up a couple of fans from the basement and opened several windows. The alarm hadn't gone off, and no one had gotten a headache or gotten sleepy. Judging by the laughter and the teasing, everyone had an absolutely splendid time, he thought.

Later, Jeff checked the sky again as he made his turn at the seven-mile point. Heavy overcast, maybe even thicker than when I started. Evie might not get to finish the range today, after all. Oh, well. That decision is hers. I'm not going to worry about it. If it rains, we'll do a little dry firing in the classroom, then call it quits for the day. That will give Doctor Boswell extra classroom time.

The barely audible slap, slap, slap, of his shoes quietly hitting the pavement was the only sound, other than an occasional gust of wind. Jeff's new style of quieter running was a habit now, not requiring any conscious effort. He had read an article by one of the world-class ultra runners a few weeks ago, who claimed to have cut down on his running related injuries by consciously trying to lessen the force of his feet striking the pavement. Jeff had tried the runner's method for a few days, then realized that after a while, it required very little thought to make each step a lot softer and quieter. He hadn't noticed it helping his time any, and since he had started using the healer a couple of years ago, he hadn't had any pulled muscles, nor the plantar fasciitis that had plagued him for years, especially if he ran a course that had a few hills in it. Now he ran a course that made those hills seem flat in comparison, yet there was no pain in his foot.

Just as the sky began to lighten a little in the East, the wind gusted again, and Jeff heard a sound behind him. Thinking the wind had blown a small limb out of a tree and pushed it down the pavement to produce the scratching sound he heard, he glanced behind him. Stunned, he maxed out his speed, then turned the LED on and tried to shine it behind him as he ran. As he looked desperately over his shoulder, he could see glowing eyes and an enormous body barreling toward him.

Ah, shit! So much for not bothering you if you don't bother them. Shit, I'm not even in the race with this fucking grizzly. He's gaining on me like I'm standing still.

Almost waiting too long, Jeff came to a hard stop. Trying to turn, reach under his shirt and unsnap his holster at the same time, almost cost him his life. At the last instant, Jeff stepped aside, the grizzly's left hip actually grazing him as the bear charged past, then stopped in an appallingly short distance. Jeff realized that the distance would have been even shorter if its claws could have gotten purchase on the pavement.

Before Jeff could even bring the .45 around to the front, the bear was on him. Jeff sidestepped again, but the bear wasn't running this time, and easily turned with him, one clawed foot slamming into Jeff's left shoulder. There was blinding pain, then the shoulder went numb, the arm hanging, useless.

Just as the big animal reared up to finish off his puny prey, Jeff brought his weapon up, the barrel almost touching the grizzly's face.

A head shot might stun him enough for me to get out of here. I wish this was a .44 magnum instead of a .45,  Jeff thought in the instant that he put the muzzle of the .45 almost against the bear's left eye and pulled the trigger.

Jeff staggered as the bear sat down, slowly rolled over, and slid down the embankment beside the road.

He stood with the gun thrust out in front of him, half-expecting the bear to come roaring back onto the road at any moment. After ten or fifteen seconds, he scrabbled around until he managed to pick up the LED with the same hand that was holding the pistol. Sticking the back of the flashlight in his mouth, he eased to the side of the road and looked down. The bear was lying on its belly, about twenty feet down the embankment. He didn't know whether the animal was dead or not, and wasn't going to stay around to find out. Turning, not even noticing he had again dropped the flashlight, he stumbled up the road, gun still in hand while trying to press the same hand against his mangled shoulder.

I'm weak — too weak, too soon.

He tried to put the .45 back into his holster, but with the shirt and the inside holster, it would take both hands. After a couple of failed attempts, he double checked the safety and stuck the pistol in his belt in the front of his jogging shorts.

Feeling warm blood gushing onto his hand, he tried to squeeze the shoulder to slow the flow. I can't see where the blood is coming from. It must be the outside of my arm just below the shoulder.

He squeezed as hard as he could and began staggering up the road, his strength draining away like water out of a bottomless bucket.

A hundred steps later, he slumped to his knees. Shock. I know it's shock. But knowing it and making it go away are two different things. Crap I'm weak. Stand up boy. You'll die if you lie down.

Forcing himself upright until his vision grayed, he put a foot down and tried to stand, the torn brachial artery in his upper arm continuing to spurt blood that ran down his arm and puddled on the pavement.

-------

Diana and Arlene sat up in bed and screamed at the same time. "Get your gun," Diana yelled as she crawled over complaining females, heedless of where her knees were landing, hit the floor, and yanked her drawer open where she kept her gun. Arlene crashed through the closet door and grabbed her gunbelt off the rack. As she frantically fastened it around her waist, her mother had already shoved her own gun into its holster and took off out of the bedroom, still carrying the gunbelt in her hand.

Into the chaos in the bedroom Arlene yelled as she started in pursuit of Diana, "Dad's been hurt."

Arlene caught up with her mother, only because Diana had to stop in the kitchen for the keys. Diana hit the remote as they went out the back at a dead run. She had on a tee-shirt and panties; Arlene was wearing only a tee-shirt and a gunbelt.

Arlene slammed into the side of the SUV, got the door open, and was inside while her mother ran around to the driver's side. Both women were crying, but neither noticed the tears as Diana crammed the key in the ignition, brought the motor to life, hit reverse and slammed her foot to the floor. As the vehicle roared backward, she spun the wheel just as she'd learned in the defensive driving course Jeff had her take. When the SUV slewed around, she dropped it into drive and took off again.

Arlene hissed as they went around the curving drive at least a couple of times faster than they ever had before. "Mom, slow down before you get to the switchbacks. You'll kill us for sure."

"Pull my seat belt down and fasten it for me. I'm sliding around in the seat too much," she ordered. "I'm not going to wreck us. We can't help Jeff if we don't get there."

Arlene managed to get the seat belt latched after the first switchback when Diana quit braking. "This thing will roll over Mom," Arlene said through clenched teeth as she stared at the next switchback that seemed to leap toward them.

Diana didn't say anything, just stood on the brakes, then gunned it again as they started to come out of the curve.

After a time that neither of the women would ever clearly remember, they slewed onto the county road, Arlene thinking for sure that the vehicle was going to roll, and Diana stomped the accelerator to the floor. The Escalade's big V8 was glad to oblige and the SUV took off like the hounds of hell were after it, tires pouring smoke.

A mile down the road, Diana swerved and stood on the brakes, coming to rest a few feet to the right of Jeff, who was down on one knee, struggling to stand.

My God, look at the blood,  Diana thought as she slammed the vehicle in park before it had completely stopped sliding. Seconds later, as she knelt beside her husband, "That's an artery. Arlene, we need a pressure bandage." Even as she said it, she was feeling in the deep wound for the source of the bleeding. My God, half his shoulder is torn away.

Arlene yanked her tee-shirt over her head, tore a hole with her fingernails, and with strength she didn't know she possessed, ripped the shirt into pieces. Folding a piece several times, she handed it to her mother.

"Bear," Jeff said, quietly. "Dead, I think. Just down the road on the left."

"Let's get him in the car," she told her daughter. "We need the healer," Diana said, jamming the bandage into the wound and pushing against the artery while trying to find a pressure point near the wound as well.

"Baby, you've got to stand. We can't do it by ourselves."

Between the three of them, they managed to get Jeff onto the second seat, his legs pushed inside, and the door closed, with both of the women crammed into the space as well.

"Here, Arlene put your middle finger right here, then grip and squeeze. Take your other hand and push against the pressure bandage. Probably your thumb will work better there. He's lost an awful lot of blood. We can't let him lose any more."

"Just go Mom, I'll do it, but be careful. Don't go so fast that you sling me around. There's so much blood, it's hard to squeeze against the artery."

Diana went out the other door, ran around the vehicle, paused for a second as she focused on the bear lying at the bottom of the slope, then hurriedly got inside. She dropped the selector into drive and started looking for a place to turn around. "Maybe the rest have remembered the radio," she said, pulling theirs off of its Velcro strip.

"Can you hear me?" she said.

"Yes," came an instant answer. "What's happening? Is Jeff hurt?"

"Jeff! Where's the healer?" Diana yelled, ignoring the question.

"Shake him, Arlene. He's got to answer me."

"I can't Momma. I can't turn loose. The blood will start gushing again," she answered, terror in her voice.

"Bump your head into his. Yell into his ear. Do something. We've got to know where he keeps the healer," Diana almost screamed.

A few second later, Jeff mumbled something as Diana finally found a wide place in the road. As she spun the wheel, braked, spun the wheel in the other direction, then reversed, she yelled, "Jeff, tell me where the healer is. You're bleeding too much. TELL ME WHERE THE HEALER IS."

"Third conference room on the left. Closet," Jeff said too weakly for Diana to hear, but Arlene caught it and repeated it to her mother.

Diana pressed the talk button. "Get the healer," she said, trying not to yell. "It's in the closet of the third conference room on the left." She repeated it for good measure. "Get Dave up. We're going to need him to get Jeff into the house," she said as she finally got the SUV straighten out and gunned the motor.

Arlene let out a yelp as her grip almost slipped, but she jammed one foot against the side of the car and the other against the back of the passenger seat. "Go, Momma. I can hold on now."

Diana took her at her word and concentrated on getting the best time she could out of the SUV. In what seemed like hours, but was only a minute or two, she saw the entrance to their driveway and the thousand plus miles of rubber she had laid down as she hit the county road coming out.

"Hang on Arlene. We're almost to the driveway."

"Just hurry Momma. My hand is cramping."

"Just hold that artery, unless you want to drive."

"Shit, no, Momma. Just don't turn so fast that I lose my grip. All the blood is making his arm so slick. It's hard to hold."

"Hang in there, Baby," she said as she tried to temper speed to avoid jarring Arlene's grip loose.

"We found it," someone screamed over the radio. "We're waiting out back."

Shortly, as they slammed to a halt, Dave yanked the door open, but was almost bowled over by Laura who put the healer on Jeff's shoulder next to Arlene's hand.

"What the fuck is that?" Dave said as the healer's blue glow came on.

"Dave, we need to get him inside," Diana started.

"He's a big man. I'll have to use a fireman's carry..."

"No," Diana yelled, then tried to quiet herself. "Dave, we've got to keep the healer on him, and Arlene has got to hold the artery."

"Alright," Dave said. "Arlene, try to stand outside."

When Arlene put both feet on the ground, Dave put one leg inside, slid one arm under Jeff's thighs, the other hugging Jeff about halfway up his back.

Dave's face turned red as he lifted at the awkward angle, ignoring the .45 as it tumbled out of Jeff's belt onto the floor. The contractor managed to back out the door and stand, shuffling Jeff in his arms for a better hold. "Oh, shit, he's heavy," Dave moaned as he started slowly for the door.

Many hands steadied him as he took the back steps one at a time, then guided him through the doorways.

"Living room," Laura said as she rounded the corner and motioned to them. "I've got one of the recliners flat and a blanket on it."

The last hundred feet were the longest mile in Dave's life. As gently as he could, he laid Jeff on the recliner. Diana had held the thing that she had called a healer on Jeff's shoulder all the way, and Arlene was holding his shoulder with both hands. When he could focus again, Dave noticed several hair-thin tendrils from the healer reaching directly into the gaping wound on Jeff's upper arm and shoulder.

"What happened?" Dave asked, although he had already just about figured it out.

"Bear," Diana mumbled. "Biggest fucking bear you have ever seen."

Dave glanced at Diana, who was shaking, then at Arlene, who was staring at the wound and shaking worse than her mother.

Quietly, Dave said, "Show me where to put the pressure, Baby. I'll do it now."

Arlene looked at him, her eyes glassy, but she guided his fingers to the pressure bandage inside the wound, then the middle finger of his other hand until he could feel the artery pulse. "Push there," she said, sliding her finger away as he slid his in place.

Only then did Dave really look at Arlene, then quickly away. She hasn't got a stitch of clothing on, well... if you don't count the gunbelt.

Arlene slid to a sitting position on the floor, leaning against the recliner. Doctor Boswell tried to get her to come get cleaned up, but Arlene roughly pushed the friendly hand away.

Boswell turned and left, returning a few minutes later with a plastic pan full of warm water, some soap, cloths and towels.

Kneeling beside Arlene, she pulled the girl to her and stroked the side of her head. "It's going to be okay, Baby. The healer is working on him. It saved my life and I was almost dead. It will take care of him, too."

Jennie unbuckled the gunbelt and laid it aside, then took one of the cloths, dipped it in water, and began to wipe the blood off Arlene's hands and arms while Doctor Boswell continued to cuddle her.

The same thing was going on with Diana, as Jennie and Melissa cuddled her, while Evie wet a cloth and started washing away the blood.

A look passed between Evie and Dave. "Don't even think about calling 911," Laura said, staring first one, then the other in the eye. "That thing," she said, nodding toward the healer, "is better than any trauma center on Earth."

Dave watched, fascinated, as the "thing," whatever it was, moved partway onto his hand, the blue glow intensifying. Other than a slight tingling, he felt nothing. It put out some more of the hair-fine tendrils, which immediately snaked into the wound with surprising speed.

"Don't think, Dave. Just do," Laura said. Although the statement was a bit obtuse, he knew exactly what she meant. He concentrated on pressing where he felt the pulse and continued pressure on the folded pad of cloth stuffed up in the wound, presumably at the place where the artery was damaged. He tried not to focus on the muscles and nerves hanging out of what was left of Jeff's shoulder and upper arm.

Eventually Jennie gave up on trying to remove the blood, and just did what all the other wives were doing, just touching Jeff wherever they could — and waiting.

As Dave's hands began to grow numb, he glanced down, only to focus on Arlene's blood-covered breasts, her nipples protruding. He again jerked his eyes away, only to meet those of his wife, who was now kneeling next to Diana.

Time passed. Diana smiled. "I think... it's trying to say something. Somehow, I think it feels... pleased."

She and Arlene both smiled, then looked at each other. "Yes," they said in unison. Then Diana finished, "I think it's saying he's going to live. It's either pleased with Jeff, or itself — or both."

A few minutes later, Dave felt a tugging on the finger he had pressed against the artery. Coming back from his daze, he realized that one of the thin tendrils was wrapped around his finger and gently pulling.

Dave jumped like he was shot. The fucking thing is alive, he thought as he calmed himself and let it pull his finger back. But it didn't let go of his finger for a couple of minutes. Surely it can't be testing to see if the artery will hold. But he was almost certain of it.

A couple of minutes later, the tendril unwrapped from his finger and pushed against his hand. As he withdrew his hand, the tendril snapped back inside the healer, almost too fast to see.

A little later, Dave felt tugging on the finger holding the pressure bandage in place. When he moved his hand, the folded, blood-soaked cloth seemed to push itself out of the wound, and the healer settled into place over the gaping, but no longer bleeding, wound.

After a few minutes, Dave got up and went to the suite they had slept in last night. After washing his hands in the sink, he dried them and was looking through the closet for blankets when Evie came in.

She ran to him and snuggled into his arms. "Dave, he almost died. I didn't know that a person had that much blood in them," she said, shaking.

"How did they know to go after him? From what I could gather, this happened a mile or more down the county road."

"I don't know. Maybe Jeff had a radio or something, since a cell doesn't work out here."

"He doesn't carry a radio, Hon. I've met him several times while he was running. I think he carries a gun with him, but even that is under his shirt. The only reason I know about the gun, is he told me, and come to think of it, I think it fell out of his belt in the SUV when I picked him up."

"I don't know. But we both heard her burning rubber out back when she left. She was in one heck of a hurry. She must have known he was hurt."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Diana and Arlene weren't dressed — still aren't, I guess. I'll bet the pressure bandage was part of Arlene's tee-shirt. So they both ran out with only a tee-shirt on, no shoes — and Arlene was wearing — a gunbelt. They knew enough about the situation to go armed."

"We'll just have to ask. I'm lost. I have no idea."

"Here," Dave said, giving his wife two blankets. "Go put these around Diana and Arlene. I don't want to embarrass them by doing it myself. They all look like they're almost in a trance. They're waiting to know something more about Jeff. I'll go fix some coffee. I saw Jeff make a pot a while back. I think I can find everything. When you're done, meet me in the kitchen and we'll see if we can get them something to eat. Short of dragging them away, I don't think any of them are going to leave Jeff right now."

Evie took off for the living room, while Dave jogged along behind her, then turned into the kitchen.

Thirty minutes later, Evie had fixed a stack of pancakes, put them into the warmer, and had loaded a serving cart when Jennie came barreling into the kitchen. She grabbed a glass, flipped the filter on and began filling the glass with water. "He's asking for water," she said, grinning and crying at the same time.

As soon as the glass was two thirds full, she was gone. "Better add a pitcher of water to that cart," Dave said, fighting to keep the lump in his throat from making his voice crack.

"Be a bitch to lose our new employer," Evie teased, not fooled by her husband's gruff voice a bit. She didn't try to hide her tears as she pushed the cart out the door.

Asking for water is by no means a sign that he's over this, but it's one giant step from where he was when he came in here,  Dave thought as he followed his wife.

When they got back to the living room, Dave checked on Jeff. But he was either asleep or unconscious. "He asked for water, drank a little, then went back to sleep," Diana told them.

Evie managed to coax all the women, except Arlene, into eating some hotcakes and sausage. She continued to slump against the recliner, holding her father's hand, refusing anything.

Dave pulled his small notebook with his crew's numbers out of his pocket. Evie looked at him meaningfully. "I think that's a good idea. Cancel out here and let Korey worry about the rest. They're probably well on their way, but maybe you can still get them on their cells. If not, we'll send them back when they get here, and pay them for a part day."

"It's not right to just dump on Korey though. He only has the vaguest of ideas what's going on at the other job sites. I barely had time yesterday to carry him around and tell the job foremen that he was taking my place."

"Well, he's going to get 'dumped on' sooner or later. Heck, he's done this with his company. And he was good at what he did. Just say there's been an emergency, leave this number, and that you'll be here all day. Make sure he knows that he can call if he gets in a bind. As far as the crew out here is concerned, it's starting to rain, anyway," she said, nodding toward the glass wall. "Unless you want them to begin on the classrooms."

"Heck, no. I'll bet they want a day off as much as I do. And I guess you're right about Korey. I left him my list of suppliers. He'll manage."

Dave made his calls, getting in touch with everyone. No one had left for work yet, since it was raining heavily in the valley. They had been waiting for word from Evie. Turning to his wife again, he said, "I completely forgot during all the excitement, but I'm going to have to go and check on that bear. We don't need a wounded animal wandering around. Jeff might not be the last one attacked."

Diana heard him and looked their way. "I was pretty close to the edge when we got Jeff into the car. It was almost daylight, plus the car lights were shining toward it, and I could see it fairly well. I swear it's bigger than any bear I've ever seen in a zoo. It's at the bottom of a slope. Jeff said he thought it was dead, and I didn't see it move."

"Well, I certainly hope it is, but if you'll tell me where I can find a rifle, I'll go and make damn sure."

"The garage key is on the Escalade's key ring, and it must still be in the vehicle. Jeff has an assortment of new rifles from his business stacked in the far corner. They're still in their original boxes. There should be ammunition there for everything."

"I'll be back in a bit," Dave said, standing. As Evie started out the door with him, he stopped. "Stay here, Pumpkin. I can..."

"Don't start Dave. There's no use in us getting into an argument with all our friends watching, and you're not going to win this one. You are not going to go by yourself. I can shoot a rifle, and Diana has already said where they are, so go."

Dave looked at her for a second, but he knew that expression. He sighed, grabbed her hand and started out.

In the garage, Dave picked a new 7mm magnum, found Evie a 30-06, then ammunition for both. He loaded the magazines, handed Evie an extra box for the 30-06, and picked up a box for himself.

"Both of these have a tag on them. They've been bore sighted at one hundred yards with the Acu-Sight. That will be good enough and then some for what we're going to do. If we have to follow a blood trail, I'm going to come back and sight both rifles in. I'll call Jerry and get him to come up and help me track the bear. I am not going to take my wife with me cross country following a wounded grizzly.

"Jeff apparently thought he killed the bear, and you heard what Diana said, but I haven't got a lot of faith in a 'dead' bear that has been shot with a handgun round. I heard a guy telling about a bear that he starting shooting when the bear was fifty yards away. He was using a lever action .44 magnum rifle, and shot the bear in the chest three times while the bear was charging those fifty yards. The guy's buddy killed the bear with a 12 gauge slug, and the animal fell dead right at their feet. If Jeff shot him in the head, it might have just stunned him. The bear that almost killed those guys was a black bear. I can't imagine a .45 penetrating enough for a body shot to do more than piss the thing off. Diana thinks this one is a grizzly — that's a whole lot bigger and meaner bear.

"You drive," Dave said as they headed for Evie's pickup. "Diana said it was about a mile down the county road with a sloping fill on the left side of the road. There's bound to be blood there, plus she said she thought she managed to slide the tires a little even with the computer brakes. We should be able to find it easily."

They found the spot with no trouble. Diana had definitely managed to slide the tires, and there was an appalling amount of blood on the road, plus Jeff's LED flashlight was still laying in the road, putting out a bright spot on the pavement, even in the daylight. As they looked over the edge of the road, Dave whistled. "That is a big mother."

When Dave started to work his way down the embankment as the light mist turned into rain, Evie almost "had kittens." "No, Dave," she almost screamed. "You are not going down there. That thing may not be dead."

"Look, Baby," he said, trying to reason with her, the rain beginning to run down their faces. "I just want to see where Jeff's bullet hit it. How in the heck did he kill a monster grizzly with a pistol? I see only one shell casing in the road. Besides, the bear is dead. It's been over an hour and a half. It's not going to lie there that long and then just get up."

"You're not going down there. And that's final," she said, tapping him on the chest, then trying to grab his shirt.

"Look, Hon, calm down. I've got to check him out. If I don't, Diana will be down here to do it for me."

That gave her pause, then she grinned. "Simple, she said walking up to the lip and raising the rifle, we just shoot enough holes in the bastard until I'm sure it's dead, then you can check it out all you want."

"Wait," Dave gasped, grabbing the barrel. "Jeff might want it mounted. Evie, it's dead. Now I'm going down to look at it. I'll stay at least ten feet from it. Plus I've got this cannon. If I shoot him in the head, from where I'll be and the way he's lying, the bullet will travel all the way through him and come out his ass. You sit down and take a bead on its head. We'll be ninety degrees to each other. We'll be safe from each other's fire, if it comes to that. If it moves, just pull the trigger. But don't just shoot it because you thought it moved."

Evie begrudgingly agreed, muttering about men. "Why can't we just shoot the SOB full of holes, then go back up top? Why has my husband got to play the macho routine at a time like this? Why has he got to go down there and look the stupid bear in the face?" She knelt down on the lip of the embankment, clicked the safety off, putting the cross hairs in the center of the bear's head. "Just twitch, damn you. Just fucking twitch."

Dave worked his way down the embankment about twenty feet from the bear. As he made his way closer, he stopped. "It's dead. Hell, he shot it right through its left eye."

"It could still be alive, Dave. Those things have very thick skulls."

"Evie, there's brain matter coming out its eye. Come on down and have a look."

"Me?" she squeaked, scrambling to her feet. "You've got to be crazy."

"Come on," Dave said, trying not to laugh. "Get the digital out of the tool box and take some pictures. The rain is getting heavier, and I'm already soaked."

She took plenty.

As they came back up the embankment, Dave was grinning. "Diana's right. Oh, it might not be the biggest grizzly around, but it's the biggest I've ever seen."

Evie wasn't nearly as thrilled. She shivered. "It gives me the creeps to just think about meeting that thing out here in the dark — all alone. Let's get out of here. I've seen all I want to see."

They picked up the shell casing and the flashlight, found a place to turn around, then headed back to the conference center.



-------

Chapter 11

When they pulled into the back and Evie shut off the engine, she turned to her husband. "I'm proud of you."

"Why, Baby?" Dave asked, hesitating, his hand on the door handle, "We both went to check on the bear. Besides, it was dead."

"Oh, I'm not talking about that. You picked Jeff up out of the back seat. He's got to be two or three inches taller than you, and he looks as solid as a rock. And he has to outweigh you by thirty pounds or more."

Dave sighed, and looked at his wife. "Baby, he did surprise me, I had no idea that he was that heavy. If he hadn't been bleeding to death, I don't think I could have lifted him. It was just desperation and adrenalin that gave me the strength to do it." Grinning, he added, "Now that things have quieted down, I'm beginning to feel my lower back. You're going to have to be on top tonight."

Evie leaned over and kissed him. "Next you'll just want a blowjob and not do any of the work," she laughed. "Get your butt out of the truck. Maybe we can borrow that thing that's healing Jeff."

"Hey," Dave said, getting out and shutting the door, scrunching up in the rain. When Evie got out and ran around to his side, he continued, "Maybe that thing can make my dick bigger."

"Well, if it does, you're not going to stick it in me. Your dick fits me just fine, now. Why do men always want a bigger dick?" she laughed as she grabbed his hand and they ran for the house, the rain coming down in sheets.

They found a bathroom and each got a towel before they headed for the living room. As they walked back in toweling their hair, all the women, including Doctor Boswell, were still gathered around Jeff.

Doctor Boswell came over to them and they stood by the window away from Jeff so they wouldn't disturb him. "Has he roused any while we were gone?" Dave quietly asked.

"Yes," Doctor Boswell answered. "He woke up and asked for water. He drank a whole glass this time, then immediately went back to sleep. I really think he's just sleeping now, and not unconscious. The healer would wake me, let me eat and drink, then put me back to sleep. I think that's what it is doing to Jeff."

Nodding at Arlene, Doctor Boswell quietly said, "I'm beginning to be more worried about Arlene than Jeff. She's taking this very, very hard. Diana finally got a shower and put on some clothes, but Arlene just pushes us away when we try to get her to go and clean up. She hasn't even left to use the bathroom. It's almost nine now. I know she didn't take time to go before she went to help Jeff, so she hasn't been since last night. She's got to be hurting, yet she won't budge from holding his hand."

Diana walked over to stand with them. "What about the bear? Is it dead?"

"Very," Dave said. "Jeff shot it right through the eye."

"I never doubted it. When Jeff said he though it was dead, I knew it was. He was the best shot with a handgun they had ever had on the range in Georgia. When he shot in matches, I know he pulled a round occasionally, just to keep from embarrassing the other shooters. No matter what they shot, he would shoot just a little higher. Just a little. There was way too much coincidence there. But Jeff always denied it. Some of his buddies figured it out too. It wasn't just me. If he shot at that bear's eye, there would be a hole in his eye. And yeah, I know the bear had to have been quite close, but whatever Jeff's shoots at, he hits."

Diana turned back to look at Jeff for a moment, then continued, "I know my husband is going to live, now. In addition to the feeling we got from the healer, he is stronger. His pulse is strong, although his blood pressure is still a little low. But I guess I haven't taken it in a long time, and I don't really know what is normal for him anymore. Since he has increased his distances when he runs, his blood pressure might be this low all the time. Yet, I can't convince my daughter to eat or drink anything. She won't even acknowledge me," she finished, looking at Arlene sitting on the floor holding her dad's hand, her body slumped against the recliner and him.

Sighing, Diana looked back at Dave and Evie, said, "I'm not going to let her sit there all day covered in dried blood, until she pees on herself. She felt the healer just like I did. She should be proud of herself. Jeff would be dead without her holding pressure on that artery while I drove. I could not have done everything myself."

Thinking a minute, she called Laura over. Putting her hand on Dave's arm, she asked him, "Would you please just pick Arlene up and carry her to our shower. If she fights, we'll hold her hands. After we get her to the shower, Laura and I can control her. I've never seen her act like this. Jeff being hurt has scared us all. Scared us more than I could ever describe. His shoulder is so mangled that I just want to sit down and bawl, but I'm not going to let my daughter go off the deep end. I may be wrong doing this, but if I am, at least she'll be clean," she said with a sickly grin.

Dave stared at Diana for a moment, then answered, "If I do that, you do realize that she may be mad at me from now on? I don't want her to hate me."

Diana and Laura just stood and looked at him.

"Okay, okay. I'll do it, but I don't want to."

Dave walked over and stood while Diana slipped the blanked off Arlene's shoulders and out of the way. Dave leaned over and put his arm around Arlene. She tried to push him away, but he reached under her and picked her up, much like he had her dad a little earlier. She struggled for a couple of seconds, but instead of fighting, she suddenly tucked her head into his shoulder and started sobbing.

He looked at Diana. "Just go," she said.

Dave hugged Arlene to him and walked to the suite, Diana, Laura and Evie trailing close behind. He would not look down at the luscious naked girl in his arms. I must be sick having to fight to not get a hard-on with her breasts covered in my boss's blood. But, damn, they sure feel delightful pressed against my chest.

Almost desperately trying to concentrate on what he was doing, and not concentrate on what he was feeling, he walked into the big shower and eased Arlene to her feet. When he put her down, Diana and Laura took over as Arlene slumped against her mother. Dave grabbed Evie's hand and made a hasty retreat, heading back to their suite for a change of clothes.

"Like the feel, did you big man?" Evie teased looking at her husband's crotch.

"Don't even go there," Dave said, crossly. "I did not look at her any more than I absolutely had to. And, I don't have an erection."

Evie squeezed his hand as they walked. "I'm not mad at you. I was just teasing. She does have a fabulous set, and unless I miss my guess, that's milk on the front of your shirt."

Dave stopped and tried to see the front of his shirt. Grasping it, he pulled it out a little from his body. He looked questioningly at his wife.

Evie grinned, but managed to look a little wistful, as they started walking again, "I'm sure I saw milk on Diana's breasts while we were playing in the pool. Looks like it runs in the family."

"But, neither of them is pregnant," Dave said, "or, if they are, they're sure not far enough along to show."

"They don't have to be pregnant, or have a baby," Evie responded as Dave held the suite's door for her. "A woman that constantly gives milk used to be highly prized as a wet nurse a couple hundred years ago. From what I've read, they saved many babies' lives whose mothers had died or the mothers didn't have enough milk."

As they entered the suite, then on into the utility room where the washer and dryer were, Evie asked, "Do you want me to give milk like they do?"

"Huh?" Dave answered, stalling as he sat down on the tile floor to untie his boot laces, trying to think of a response that wouldn't get him into trouble.

Evie kicked her shoes of, then after pulling her sopping socks off, she knelt down and started untying one of her husband's boots while he got the other one. "I read where even men can give milk." When her husband stopped untying his boot and looked at her incredulously, she continued, "These two gay guys adopted a young baby. One of the men got some shots like they sometimes give to a new mother to make her milk come in, plus some hormone shorts. Then he used a breast pump a lot until he began giving milk. It's a lot simpler on a woman, of course. From what I read, all you have to do is use a breast pump a lot, and the milk will start, at least on most young women. I've heard of a woman that adopted a new baby and breast fed it herself, although she had never had any kids or given milk before. She just let the baby nurse on her nipples, and her milk started in a few days."

Dave was sitting with his knees pulled up, while both of them had been unlacing his boots. Finished, they looked at each other. Evie grinned mischievously, "Hey, I just though of another instance. A friend of mine in high school had two female miniature Dachshund dogs. One of them had two puppies, but wouldn't let them nurse. My friend started feeding them on a bottle, but a couple of days later, she realized that the other female Dachshund was nursing the puppies. They had never bred the dog, she had never had puppies, but she nursed both of the puppies, and was a great mother."

"Now the question again. Would you like for me to give milk? From the way you like to nurse my titties, I'll bet you would think it was great," she teased.

Although Dave's dick hadn't gotten hard, it had swelled up. He would just about bet that Evie had seen it. Saying yes could still get me in over my head. "Well, Hon, I, uh, don't know. I guess I'll leave that up to you," he finished, proud of himself for skirting the subject.

Evie stood back up and offered her husband her hand. When he stood, she winked at him, "I'll think about it. I might surprise you."

As she struggled to peel her wet blouse off, laughing at her husband's discomfiture, she changed the subject, "Well, now we change back into our casuals, and wash the work clothes again. We're going to have to bring some stuff up here. This is beginning to get old."

"You've got that right," Dave said, proud to be off the subject of breast milk, as he danced around trying to pull a wet pants leg past his foot.

The small utility room didn't have a chair, so Evie helped her husband support himself until he got his pants off. "Our clothes wouldn't have been much wetter if we had gone swimming in them," Dave said, as he returned the favor while his wife stripped off her work jeans.

When they were finally done, they dumped their clothes in the washer. "At least we don't have blood on our underclothes." Evie said, teasingly avoiding Dave's hand as he tried to tweak a nipple.

She kissed him. "Down boy, we can't do that now. And what happened to your bad back?"

"Strange thing. It gets better every time my dick gets hard," Dave tried to say seriously.

"Uh, huh," Evie snickered, as she put liquid detergent in the washer.

Dave checked out the shelf above the washer. "Hey, here's some stain remover." After reading the back of the bottle, he continued, "It says it gets blood out. I'm going to put about half the bottle in," he said, doing just that.

"Boy, this will be a real test for it, half the bottle or not," Evie said, eyeing the water turning red as the washer filled. "Your clothes look like they have been dipped in blood."

"Yeah. Jeff really lost a lot, didn't he? I don't even want to think how close he came to dying."

When Dave started to put the bottle back, Evie reached for it. "I suppose Diana has stain remover at the other end of the house, but we'll put this on the kitchen table so she will see it, just in case. She will probably just throw her tee-shirt away. I don't think she will ever get that much blood out of the white fabric, but she might try to wash the blanket Jeff is lying on, and maybe his running shorts."

Back in the bedroom, while they were putting their casual clothes back on, Dave said, "Diana was really insistent that we keep that machine — that healer — a secret. If that's the case, then we need to do something about the blood in their Escalade. If we get a steam cleaner to the seat and carpet before the blood dries, we can probably get most of it out. Otherwise, if anybody sees the seat, they're going to think someone was killed, and start asking questions." After a moment, he continued. "One of the car washes in Winter Park has a steam cleaner. I guess I should check with Diana to see if she needs me to do anything else, then get the SUV taken care of."

"Where do you think he got that thing?" Evie asked, sitting on the bed to pull on her tight jeans.

Dave watched his wife struggle, her breasts doing interesting things. "It's a good thing you had on your 'work clothes.' You would never get out of those jeans, if they were wet."

"If you don't like them, why do you keep checking out my ass when I wear them?" she teased.

Dave laughed. "Because you've got a fine ass," he said, reasonably.

Evie stuck her tongue out at him, and continued her struggles.

Dave slipped his shirt on, tucked it into his pants and fastened his belt, his expression becoming thoughtful. "Back to the thing on Jeff's shoulder. I don't know. Maybe it's another of his inventions, but I can't understand why all the secrecy."

Evie finished with her jeans, slipped her blouse on, then began blow-drying her hair, glancing at her husband in the mirror as she did so. "Well, maybe he hasn't got the patents taken care of yet, or something. Heck, I don't know. It all seems weird to me. Did you see how that thing sort of crawled over Jeff's arm? It's like it was alive or something."

"Yeah," Dave acknowledged, then lightly smacked his wife's tight little ass, "and those hair-like things that went down into the wound, not to mention that blue light. It seems like something from Star Trek. These people are already filthy rich. And, they're going to be richer still when they sell that thing."

Evie grinned at him in the mirror. When her hair was dry and brushed, she turned and headed out the door. Knowing he would be watching her ass, she swished it a little extra.

He caught up with her and took her hand. They walked back to the kitchen still discussing the healer. Evie set the bottle of stain remover on the cabinet in front of the coffee maker. "They'll find it here. I guess I'll go with you to work on the Escalade."

"Sounds good to me," Dave said, giving her a hug as they started out of the kitchen. "Let's stop by the living room and tell everybody where we're going."

A couple of moments later they walked into the living room. Diana and Arlene were the only ones missing. Jeff appeared to still be deeply asleep.

"How's he doing?" Dave quietly asked Laura.

"Still about the same, I guess. Since it healed Helen when she had her heart attack, we're all quite confident that it will take care of Jeff." Laura looked at Evie and blushed. "Somehow, we just can't talk ourselves into leaving though. Oh, we've gone to the bathroom, but we can't seem to be away from him. I don't know whether that's normal or not. We all love him so much..."

As Laura's eyes filled with tears, Dave, trying to change the subject, explained about their idea of going into Winter Park to steam clean the seat and carpet.

"No need to go to Winter Park," Laura said. "There's a ram jet on the back side of the garage. There's a steam cleaner, and a big wet/dry shop vac out there too."

"I didn't put the ram jet in. Mr. Wainright must have had that installed later, but I'm sure glad you mentioned it. Saves a lot of driving."

"Well, the only thing wrong is it's raining like crazy," Laura said motioned to the glass wall, "and... there's no roof over the ram jet."

Dave and Evie both laughed. "Yeah, we've got a set of wet clothes in the washer now, in case you didn't notice our dripping a while ago. Oh, well. I've got a rainsuit in Evie's truck, and we'll be in the backseat most of the time, anyway. Thanks for telling us about the ramjet. This will save some time. I want to get started before the blood is completely dry," Dave said.

Soon after Dave and Evie left, Diana and Arlene came back to the living room. Although Arlene still seemed stressed, and she immediately went to her dad's side, sat on the floor and took his hand, she didn't seem as frantic.

Laura looked at Diana and raised an eyebrow. Diana's slight nod caused a little smile to touch Laura's lips.

-------

The healer detached itself and slowly made its way across Jeff's shoulder, eventually coming to rest draped over his forehead. When it started to move, the women all watched apprehensively, but the terrible wound wasn't bleeding; although, it almost turned their stomachs to look at it.

When the healer reached his head, it seemed to settle down and mold itself to him. The blue light came back on.

-------



{{?? Remember }}

Jeff was standing at the door of the giant hanger viewing the alien landscape, idly talking with his Lieutenant when the sniper decided to try a long shot. He could barely see his target due to a bush close to the building, but he went for the shot, anyway. He was firing almost parallel to the huge metal front. Since it was a long shot, the wind had more time to push the round. The projectile drifted to the left a little, and struck Jeff in his right upper chest as he was turning to go back inside.

Jeff remembered a stunning impact, a brief flash of pain, then looking at the sky as he lay on the ground. He heard shouting, but somehow the words were unintelligible. Gunfire roared as the fire team sprayed rounds in the general direction the sniper's bullet had to have come from.

Someone was screaming on the radio for the medic.

"Get his feet," Sergeant Gomez yelled to Lieutenant Richardson. Then as they lifted Jeff, "Get that son-of-a-bitch," Gomez needlessly yelled to the corporal, as Jeff coughed blood.

Inside the building, they could see the medic already running toward them, full tilt, although carrying two medical cases.

As they put Jeff down, the Lieutenant said, "I think the Captain has bought the farm."

"Fuck that!" Gomez said, not caring whom he was talking to.

Medic Besseler slid to a halt, snatched out a pair of scissors, split the Captain's shirt in half, took one quick look at Jeff's wounds, said, "Ah, shit." He ripped open two packages, gave the pads to the lieutenant and sergeant, and ordered, "Press hard." In a couple of minutes he managed to start an IV and give Jeff a shot. Besseler looked at his sergeant, "Sarge, that hole in his back you're putting pressure on where the bullet exited, is probably an inch in diameter. That round had to have exploded his right lung. If I had him in a fully equipped operating room right now, with a surgery team waiting, he still probably wouldn't make it. He's losing too much blood, most of it internally, and there isn't any way to stop it with what I've got to work with here."

Gomez looked at the monster craft, itself longer than a couple of football fields, sitting a hundred yards or so from them. "Get him on the stretcher and get him inside," he barked, nodding toward the vehicle crouched on its squat legs.

"Are you going to try one of those things?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am. The techs think they're either some type of suspended animation chamber, or a healing device. Captain Matthews said he was pretty sure they had something to do with healing. He's right a hell of a lot more times than he's wrong. Get him inside — now."

Lieutenant Richardson was already lifting Jeff's shoulders as Besseler got his feet. They quickly put him onto the collapsible stretcher that was part of the medic's equipment. Richardson was a good Lieutenant, i.e., he knew that when the shit hit the fan, the best thing to do was what his twenty-year sergeant suggested that he do.

Jeff heard the conversation — heard the words — most of them didn't make a lot of sense. Everything seemed remote — but he knew he was dying. What will Diana and Arlene do without me? Diana has had a shitty life, now I'm going to leave her alone. He struggled to get air into his remaining lung.

"We got the son-of-a-bitch," the corporal yelled through the door. "Rearden busted his ass with the sniper rifle." Sergeant Gomez, preoccupied, negligently waved as he jogged beside the stretcher.

A couple of minutes later, as they lifted Jeff into the coffin-like device aboard the craft, Gomez realized that Jeff was still somewhat conscious. "We're putting you in this thing that you said might be a healing device. May God be with you, Captain."

As soon as Jeff was inside, a cover so clear that it almost wasn't there, lifted into place. An intense blue light filled the inside of the device, and a thick white fog rolled from head to foot, completely obscuring Jeff.

Lieutenant Richardson ran his hand over the lid. "There doesn't seem to be any kind of button or lever to open this thing up, let alone control it. I hope we've done the right thing."

Medic Besseler looked up from his own inspection of the thing they had placed their Captain in. "He would have been dead, anyway, in a couple of minutes, Sir. But, shit. Why did it have to happen to him? He was always the one that dug our asses out of the latrine. Now some asshole sniper..."

Lieutenant Richardson's radio went off. The corporal, excited, yelled, "Sir, there's about a hundred of these fuckers coming this way. We're going to have to fall back and lock this door. These walls should slow them down for a while; maybe even stop them, unless they have some real heavy shit with them. But best tell those techs to get that thing in there going and get us out of here, or the Captain ain't the only one who's going to buy the farm."

"The Captain ain't going to buy the farm," Sergeant Gomez grumbled to himself as he stood watching the mist that was obscuring Jeff.

-------

Three days later, Jeff sat on the side of the healing chamber, as they had started calling the device. Gomez stood to the far side of the room, grinning from ear to ear. Medic Besseler had stripped off the remains of Jeff's bloody shirt, washed some of the dried blood away from his upper body, then kept running his hands over Jeff's chest and back. "Besseler," Jeff grinned, "if you keep doing that, I'm going to have to reevaluate my thoughts on your sexual orientation."

"Shit, Captain, I can't help it," the medic said, putting his equipment away, "I can't find anything wrong with you. Two little scars to show where that bullet or whatever it was blew your lung apart. You sure you feel okay?"

"Yeah, just a little dizzy and a bit weak, yet."

"We need to get you cleaned up then," the medic said, stepping back and allowing his captain to stand. "The techs have figured out how to use one of those shower-like things. I don't think they have a clue how they really work, though," he added, smiling at Cornell to take the sting out of his words, "but you come out clean. Give it a whirl and see if it will get all that blood off you. There's a place where you can hang your clothes while you're in there. Let's see if it will clean them while it's cleaning you. I've got your backup shirt ready when you need it."

A little later, Jeff sat in an area that would have been called the Captain's ready room if the craft had been made on Earth. He had just finished his second energy bar, but although he was ravenous, he refrained from eating any more, since they were conserving food, and had gone on half rations soon after the attack. Looking around the table, he nodded to Doctor Arnold, the head tech, then glanced at his lieutenant, and sergeant. "First off, Sergeant, I'm told that I owe you my life..."

Sergeant Gomez waved his hand in dismissal, "Hell, Sir, you've saved my ass more than once. This one time, I had a brainstorm instead of a brainfart," he laughed.

Jeff chuckled, the sergeant's humbleness not fooling Jeff a bit, "Nevertheless, I thank you for your quick thinking. I owe you, bigtime." Taking another sip of his weak coffee, he continued, "Okay I've been out, according to you people, for three days. I've picked up bits and pieces while Medic Besseler was checking me out, but, Lieutenant, how about bringing me up to date."

"Yes Sir. In brief: You were shot by a sniper. At the sergeant's insistence, we put you in the casket-looking apparatus in hopes that it would take care of you. Medic Besseler said you would have had little chance of survival even if he had you in a fully staffed operating room at the time. Our people managed to kill the sniper. But, it was apparently the beginning of an attack, because about a hundred of these humanoids did just that. Our team withdrew into the building and convinced, I guess you could say, the door to cycle closed. It took us two trips here before we got the thing to open for us, so we have high hopes that it will remain locked against these beings. When I realized that we were going to be under siege conditions, I instituted half rations."

"What about a water supply?" Jeff interrupted.

"I'll let Doctor Arnold answer that, Sir, and go on with his part of the briefing, as well."

Doctor Arnold hesitated a moment, adjusting his glasses. Looking back up at Jeff, Arnold said, "Captain, I know that you haven't been very pleased with our progress..."

Jeff cleared his throat. "Doctor, let's not make this a personal thing, because it isn't. I'm not pleased with our progress. We can't seem to get the portal any closer, and a landslide from the mountain this 'hanger' is buried in has covered a good part of the bay doors, making it virtually impossible to get this craft out of here without heavy earth moving equipment, even when, and if we manage to get this thing to operate. Then if we do manage to get the bay doors open, we still have to deal with a force many times larger than our own. No, I am not pleased, but my displeasure isn't directed solely at you.

"Incidentally, Lieutenant," Jeff said, shifting his gaze back to Richardson, "have we any information on these beings, and what they're currently doing?"

"Well, Sir, the only thing we know is that we have heard three separate thumps that suggest they have tried hitting the door with some explosive devices. We assumed it was some type of round launched from a tank, or field piece, or maybe some type of rocket. We heard a louder sound that we could feel slightly through the floor. That was more than a day ago." Looking at his watch, he continued, "Actually, about thirty hours ago. Since then, we've heard or felt nothing."

Jeff turned his gaze back to Doctor Arnold. "Continue Doctor."

"We have searched a number of rooms, well, we're calling them rooms. And, we've found a water source in several of them; in addition, we've managed to figure out how to get the two we've found on this craft, operating. So we seem to have plenty of drinking water, and incidentally, it is so pure that we, at first, though our instruments were malfunctioning. We're now able to have water that will freeze in the cup in a matter or seconds, to water that is rapidly boiling, or anything in between."

Jeff smiled. "I had one of the 'showers', and it even cleaned my uniform, but didn't use any water."

"Unfortunately," Arnold said, pausing for a second to take a sip from his cup, "we haven't managed to figure out a damn thing about the control room of this spacecraft."

"Spacecraft?" Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I think it is," Arnold said, defiantly, "but I'm not in the majority on this."

"Engines?" Jeff asked.

"We can't fucking find any," Arnold said, throwing his hands up, sloshing water out, splashing some on the sergeant in the process, not even noticing. "We can't get into some parts of the ship. Maybe the engines or in there — or maybe we're looking at them but just don't know what we're looking at," he finished, exasperation evident in his shaking voice.

Sergeant Gomez brushed the water from his sleeve, trying to hide a grin.

Arnold continued, oblivious to the looks passed between the others, "We can't even find any controls, as you know Captain. You sat in the control chairs before you were shot, if that's what they are. It's got to be the control room. It has to be. But, there's not a switch, button, wire, screen, relay, or anything else for that matter, except featureless walls, two odd looking chairs that look like recliners on steroids, and those two translucent, eighteen inch in diameter posts that run from floor to ceiling.

"There is nothing in there that is magnetic in any way, just like the rest of the ship. Other than the seats and chairs, everything is made of a nonmagnetic alloy of some kind that virtually laughs at our best drills. So far, we haven't managed to even shine the surface on anything with our bits, let alone open anything, or cause anything to happen other than the lights come on when we enter a room on the ship, the water works, and the 'shower' works.

"We can't even find the lights; the walls and ceilings just glow, giving us a well-lit room when we enter, just as this one is doing right now. The lights shut off when we leave. And yes, we certainly have the ability to automatically turn lighting on an off on Earth, but here, we can't even find the control mechanisms to the fucking room lights, let alone understand this ship." Arnold took a sip of his remaining water, his hand visibly shaking.

Jeff drained the last of his coffee from his cup, and set it down. "Gentlemen, I had some weird dreams while I was in that healing chamber." With that, he got up and started forward. A couple of minutes later, the others standing behind him, Jeff eased himself into the leftmost control chair. After a moment, Doctor Arnold grew impatient, "Captain, we've tried everything..."

Seemingly, the front wall of the ship turned completely transparent, although it had to be a holo projection. Shortly, the viewpoint moved forward. Not stopping for the front wall of the "hanger," the view seemed to go on through before coming to a halt. About twenty of the beings, which looked vaguely human, although they certainly couldn't be from Earth, we scattered about, looking quite dead. Farther down the valley, more moved around, but they didn't seem to be approaching.

"Shit!" Gomez said, awe in his voice.

"Ditto that," Doctor Arnold said.

Everyone but Jeff stared at the scene in front of them. He remained seemingly relaxed with his eyes closed in the command chair. "Unless you gentlemen have neglected to inform me of a battle," Jeff said, "then these guys have either blown themselves up trying to get in, or the building has gotten pissed at their shenanigans and swatted them. Judging from the technology we've managed to uncover, I'd vote for the later possibility."

Everyone stared at Jeff. He opened his eyes and grinned at them. "Aren't you glad we didn't try explosives?" he asked no one in particular, but everyone answered him with a resounding, "Yes."

When he motioned toward the screen and they turned back, the viewpoint had returned to the craft. They were back to looking at the inside of the "hanger" immediately in front of them. The floor began slowly receding. The previously translucent columns that Arnold had referred to earlier, that the sergeant and lieutenant we now leaning against; were now a faintly glowing golden color. The color was swirling as if a liquid with eddies were flowing through clear glass columns.

"Uh, Captain," the sergeant asked, "are we moving, or is the screen just showing a higher view?"

Jeff's lips twitched, and the viewpoint slowly sank back to floor level. "Recall the troops, Lieutenant. Jeff tried to casually say, but he had the look that Diana had always called his "shit-eatin' grin" on his face. "We're going home."



Some part of Jeff's mind knew this wasn't a dream, yet he was deeply asleep. He tried to form words, knowing that this state, whatever it was that he was in, was induced by the healer. It felt strange, not like a true dream, but with a clarity and realism beyond most dreams. Slowly, his mind was able to think now that the "dream" had stopped. Little One, is that you I feel tromping around in my head stirring up my memories?

As he tried to form the words in his mind, even they seemed odd in this... place. After a moment, he felt a stirring in his mind. Concepts — some unrecognizable — formed, folded away, and others took their place. He saw a distorted image of himself sitting on the side of the healing chamber, but he was alone this time.

It felt somewhat like the feeling he got when he had sat in the control chair, but it didn't have the clarity and depth that he had received then. He could have sworn that he felt amusement, and maybe indignation.

He got the feeling the healer was trying to respond to his comment about tromping around in his mind. Shortly, there was an impression of someone walking softly through a field of (incongruously) flowers. Then the impression of someone studying — learning. The next was vague, but finally he decided that he was being scolded for something. Then it dawned with him. She was scolding him for not spending enough time with her in order that she could learn to communicate.

So it takes getting smacked around by a bear before we can talk to each other, then,  Jeff thought, just to see what the response would be.

He never could quite figure out what the impressions meant on that one. He did realize, however, that he would spend (time?) sleeping, and that he would need water and liquid food from time to time. He would be awakened at those times.

When he tried to say, and send mental images of transfusions of blood, he could feel the amusement again. He saw images of food associated with energy (at least, he assumed that it was energy), and then other images of the healer associated with that same energy. Those images loomed much larger and stronger than those of food. He assumed that she was trying to show him that most of the healing energy was coming from her.

He saw this energy turning into something that flowed through his blood. It suddenly dawned on him that she had replaced his lost blood (temporarily) with something she had created from that energy. Some sort of synthetic blood, perhaps.

While his mind pondered the implications of this, he clearly saw Diana and Arlene kneeling beside them, and felt their relief and joy. Only one thing made sense that he could think of: the healer had told his women (at least two of them) that he would recover.

Thanks, Little One,  Jeff tried to clearly respond, as his mind lost focus and he returned to a deeper sleep.


-------

Chapter 12


Evie and Dave stood at the back door looking out at the driving rain. "Uh, Baby?"

Evie looked at him.

Dave nodded his head to the right. "There's an umbrella stand behind the door with a couple fucking dozen umbrellas in it. And... I knew the thing was there; I've seen it many times. I just didn't think about it."

Evie looked at it, thought about being pissed since they had gotten drenched to the bone while checking on the bear, but opted for a chuckle, instead.

"Well, we could have put our rain suits on before we left."

Dave looked at his wife and grinned, "But both of us were in such a hurry to see the bear, and it was only drizzling when we left — still," he drawled looking at the umbrella stand.

Laughing, they picked up a couple of umbrellas, walked out to Evie's truck and got two rain suits out of the tool box, then got into the Escalade. They shook the ubrellas off as best they could, then quickly closed the doors. Evie looked around. "Wow, this thing is nice," she said, then started the engine.

"Wait until you get into mine. It still smells new."

"It, should. It is new," she laughed.

"Well, you know what I mean," he said, mock glaring at her.

Evie drove around to the back of the garage, stopping by the steam cleaner. They struggled into their rain suits before getting out, then while Evie got the steamer going, Dave got Jeff's .45 off of the back floorboard and put it in the glove compartment.

Thirty minutes later, they had the seat as clean as it was going to get. They pulled around to the other side of the garage, where they found gun-cleaning supplies. After wiping the rifles down with an oily rag, Dave put a few drops of oil on a patch and did the same for the barrels. He dropped the magazine out of Jeff's .45, ejected the round from the chamber, then put the ejected round back into the magazine. He cleaned the blood off the Colt, ran an oily patch down the barrel, then wiped the weapon down with an oily rag.

As they finished putting the rifles back into their boxes, "Hon, let's go check on Jeff, then run home and get some more clothes," Dave told his wife. "You probably need to call the crew later today and tell them to come on in the morning, regardless of the weather. If it's still raining, you can start them with the demolition for the classrooms."

Evie grabbed her husband and kissed him. "And, we're going to bed early enough tonight for you to really take care of me."

"Well, I don't know, Baby. My back is beginning..."

Evie hit him lightly in the ribs. "You're not getting off that easy. You're getting plenty of rest today, so you've got some husbandly duties ahead of you. Now get up off your butt, and let's see how Jeff is doing," she finished giving him a good grope.

Putting the .45 in his belt, the magazine in his pocket, and carrying Diana's gun belt, Dave grinned and headed for the back door with her.

Inside, a few minutes later, they found Jeff sitting up a little and drinking a shake; although, Arlene was holding it for him. His face was gray, and there was a tremor in his hand as he tried to take the shake from Arlene. "No, Daddy. I'll hold it. You just lean back and rest. When you want a sip, it will be here."

Dave put Jeff's .45 and Diana's gunbelt with her pistol still in the holster on one of the tables, and stepped closer to Jeff.

When Jeff saw Dave and Evie, he said, "Hi guys. Thanks for all the help. Dave, Diana tells me you picked me up and brought me inside."

Dave forced a smile to his face. "No problem. Hey, you're looking better," he lied. Damn, he sounds like an old man. And he knows it, too.

"As they say, don't ever take up selling used cars, Dave. You'll starve to death," Jeff tried to chuckle.

As Dave started to respond, Jeff leaned farther back and closed his eyes, obviously near sleep. The healer was now setting on the top part of his shoulder covering the upper part of the wound.

Dave motioned, and Diana met them over near the door. "Diana," He quietly said, "if you don't need us right now, we're going to run home and get some clothes. I don't mean to be sexist, but I think that you need another man around while Jeff is down. So, if it's okay with you, we're going to stay here for a few days until Jeff is back to a hundred percent."

Diana hugged both of them, tears sparkling her eyes, though Evie and Dave pretended to not notice. "Ah, crap. I guess my nerves are all screwed up," she said, wiping her eyes. "Please forgive me, I seem to be crying at the drop of that infamous hat." Taking a deep breath, she continued. "We've already talked some about what I'm going to say, but now is a good time to expand a little more about it, I guess. We still have vacant apartments. Instead of the suite, why don't you just move enough of your things into one of the apartments? You're going to be here most of the time anyway for the next several years, because of all the construction that's going to be going on. It seems silly for you two to commute every day. That suite is nice, but you need something bigger to be comfortable, plus the apartments have super kitchens. Not that you can't eat with us. No, I need to state that another way. We tend to use meals to do a lot of our planning, and you two need to be in on that planning. So, please continue to eat with us for the foreseeable future."

Dave and Evie looked at each other. "Diana, are you sure about the apartment? That seems a little much," Evie said. "The suite is great, then we can stay at home on the weekend... and we will pay for our meals."

Diana, shaking her head, turned her hand palm outward a little signaling Evie to stop. "No, you're not going to pay for your meals. There's no way that's going to happen." Diana hesitated for a moment, then smiling, addressed Evie. "How many rooms does this place have?"

Evie, looked at her husband, who knew, but didn't answer for her. "Uh, I don't know."

"Neither do I," Diana laughed. "We've talked about counting them, but never spent the time to do it. Oh, there's a small plate by the door lock with the name of the suite or the room number, but even so, there isn't a way to know how many rooms there are without counting. However many there are, it's obvious that using a few of them for living quarters for you two won't make a bit of difference.

"We had our little swimsuit war, so you've seen us all nude. The girls will occasionally attack Jeff in the living room, or the pool, or the... ah, heck, just about anywhere, and obviously I'm not talking about swimsuits. But, I'll try to get them to be a little more discrete, since you'll be living here. I don't want you two to act like guests. If you're going to live here, then this is your home. When you get ready to go to the living room, or the hot tub area, or wherever, then go. I just don't want you to feel like you're imposing if you happen to walk in on us while our Alpha Male is... making love to us," she finished, blushing furiously.

"Alpha Male?" Evie said, looking first at Diana, then at her husband.

"That's a long story," Diana said. "And, we'll share it with you some time in the near future. But, I'd like for Laura, and maybe Doctor Boswell to be with us so they can help me explain. But, we all think he's an Alpha Male, and I think even Doctor Boswell is coming around to it, too. She, like us, hasn't been able to leave the room for more than a couple of minutes since you put Jeff in that recliner, Dave. And,  I don't mean, just don't want to, I literally mean, can't. And, she's not one of his wives. Well..." she shrugged, and went on, "Now you guys go on and get your things. Later today we'll have a planning session, if we can manage to leave Jeff long enough. If not, we'll do it in the living room," she laughed.

"And, about eating with us, and the rest, just remember, we still haven't managed to spend even the returns on our investments. In addition to having someone investing for us that appears to be an absolute genius at it, Jeff invested heavily in one of the companies that he had done some work for. They had a new product, which Jeff helped to develop. Jeff said the company was going to really go, and it has. Their stock has split twice already, and Jeff put a lot of money in that company. For the first time in our life, we can spend a little on our friends when we want to. Now please don't spoil it for us. Just go get your things and get your butts back here."

The two women hugged each other, while Dave stood back and grinned, not really knowing what else to do. Then, catching him by surprise, Diana fiercely hugged him, then leaned her head back, looking up into his face. "Thanks for picking my husband up and bringing him into this house. It would have been terrible trying to treat him in the back of the Escalade all day, particularly in this pouring rain. And we could never have moved him ourselves."

Dave mumbled something, he supposed, but he was mentally trying to count backward from one hundred by threes. 100, 97, 94, 91... Don't get hard. 88, 85, 82... Don't get hard. But, damn, her breasts feel nice.

As Diana turned back toward her husband, and Dave breathed a silent sight of relief, she said over her shoulder, "If you need it, use our Escalade, too. Be sure to get enough of your things so you don't have to run home for something every couple of days."

Evie grinned at him as they started for the back, and he knew he was about to catch hell.

"Enjoyed that, did you?"

Dave started to stammer out a denial. Damn it, why do women get pissed when a man's dick responds to another woman. She knows I love her, and she knows I can't help my dick responding sometimes when my brain has better sense.

Astonishing him, Evie playfully elbowed him in the ribs, "You would have to be dead to not responds to boobs like hers. Heck, they even look good to me."

He did manage a "Thanks, Babe," but was afraid to say anything else.

Later, back at home, Dave carried boxes and suitcases to his Escalade. Evie had helped pack and box things up, then while her husband transported the boxes, she sat down at the table to pay a few bills. She dialed the bank, reconciling their checkbook. Dave made several more trips out to the SUV, got a coke, and sat down at the table with his wife.

Evie hung up the phone, an odd expression on her face. "Your paycheck has been deposited," she said.

"What paycheck? But... I agreed with the accountant to be paid twice a month. Heck, I've only been working for them for a couple of days. What gives? Did the accountant misunderstand? Has he paid me in advance or something?"

"If he did, he misunderstood twice," she answered.

"What do you mean 'twice?'" Dave said, looking more puzzled by the moment.

"Well, I have a feeling," Evie said, taking a sip of her husband's coke, "Remember when they did their little eye thing, then welcomed me?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

Evie grinned in spite of herself. "Well, I think I got hired too. Come to think about it, there was a note on the kitchen counter for me to call the accountant. I wondered about it, but with everything going on, I just forgot to ask why he would need to talk to me. I think he just made out your payday, then duplicated it for me. I'll bet he wants to get my information so he can do the deductions."

"But..." Dave said.

Evie's eyes filled. "Remember what Diana said about being able to spend a 'little money' on their friends now? Well, I think she was talking about more than a free meal here and there. I've just finished paying our monthly bills, and we've still got more money, by far, in our personal checking account than we've ever had. Hah... now there's an understatement. Look," she said, spinning the ledger around so he could read it.

Dave looked, then just stared at his wife. "Shit," he said, with his usual eloquence.

"Yeah," Evie echoed, tears misting her eyes, "that about sums it up."

-------

They parked on the north end of the building, but had to walk around to the back door to get in. As they walked into the living room late in the day, everything was pretty much the way it was when they left. All eyes, except Jeff's, locked onto the stack of pizza boxes that Dave and Evie carried.

Upon seeing the reaction, Evie laughed. "I'll get some plates and something to drink." She opened one of the boxes, and said, "On second thought, just carry them on into the kitchen, Baby. I think we need to warm them up a little."

As Evie and Dave started for the kitchen, Doctor Boswell got up and followed. In the kitchen, both women loaded drinks, ice, glasses, plates, silverware, and a roll of paper towels on a serving cart, while Dave cycled the pizza through the microwaves.

"Red pepper?" Doctor Boswell said.

"Already ahead of you, Doctor. We got a number of packets from Pizza Hut when we picked up the pizza. They're already on the cart."

"Helen," Boswell said.

"Okay, Helen," Evie answered as they walked over to Dave to help him put the pizza back into the boxes as they came out of the microwave.

"There's enough here for twenty people," Boswell laughed. "You two went overboard."

"Well," Dave answered, putting another pizza into a microwave and setting the timer, "We didn't know what everyone liked, so we just got an assortment. We can always freeze what we don't eat, and have it some other time."

"Yes," Boswell said as she carried pizza boxes to the serving cart, "We sure don't get delivery service out here. This should go over really well."

Boswell seemed to be apprehensive for some reason, glancing at the kitchen door frequently, obviously impatient with the delay as the pizzas warmed. Dave, standing behind Doctor Boswell, glanced at his wife and shrugged. "We've only got two more. You two go on, and I'll bring them in a minute."

Boswell seemed relieved, and hurriedly pushed the serving cart out of the kitchen without comment, while Evie held the door for her.

In the living room, Boswell and Evie cleared the game table already sitting near the window and spread out the pizzas, still in their opened boxes. Arlene and Melissa were both sitting on the floor next to Jeff's recliner. Diana and Jeanie put pizza on a plate for each, and brought it and a drink over to them, then came back to get their own food and join everyone else.

Just as Dave took his first big bite of pizza, Diana suddenly bowed her head and gave a quiet thanks for the food, and for allowing her husband to live.

Dave started chewing again and looked around the room. He glanced at Evie, then the two girls sitting snuggled up to Jeff as best they could while he lay in the recliner, sleeping. According to Diana's previous comments, they were all reluctant to leave the living room. What had Diana said? Something about they just couldn't force themselves to leave Jeff for more than a few minutes at a time. I could understand this in the beginning, when we first brought Jeff inside, but everyone thinks he's well on his way to recovery, yet they haven't even gone to the kitchen to get something to eat all day. At least that's what it seems like.

Looking around the room as they women tore into the pizza, he thought he was probably right. I still don't understand how they knew Jeff was hurt this morning. Diana left here like she was intent on burning all the rubber off the Escalade's tires. When did Jeff start carrying a radio with him? I know he didn't have one the morning I met him in the back, and he went on out to the range with me. He didn't have one on when I brought him in either, and I didn't see one on the road.

Dave took a sip of his drink, looked at Diana and sighed, "A mysterious machine that's 'better than any trauma center on Earth;' you and Arlene burning out of here before daylight; someone saying on the PA that Jeff was hurt..."

"That was me," Laura said.

"Come on people, things just don't make sense..."

"Dave," Evie interrupted, "it's none of our..."

"Yes, it is," Diana said, "but..."

"Let me," Laura said, putting her hand on Diana's arm. Diana nodded, and took another bite of pizza. "My sister-wife has had the most horrible day in her life, as have the rest of us. But, she and Arlene have been with Jeff longer. It has hit them harder." Diana took another bite of pizza, seeming ready to cry again.

"Di is our rock," Laura started, squeezing Diana's arm before reaching to pick up her own glass. After taking a sip, she put the glass down, and looked at Dave and Evie. "Di told me she mentioned our Alpha Male to you. I won't go into that right now, other than peripherally. Short version. All of us know where Jeff is all of the time; at least we know the direction he is in and how close he is to us. All of us wives, that is. Doctor Boswell was very skeptical at first, but I think the skepticism is almost gone, isn't it Helen?"

Doctor Boswell smiled, "You could say that. But, it would be more accurate to say that my skepticism is totally gone now. In addition," she said, her voice changing as she caught Dave's eye, "I'm beginning to be able to 'feel' him as well."

Dave's breath softly whistled past his teeth.

Diana smiled, and looked at Doctor Boswell. "I knew," she said, although not qualifying exactly what she meant.

Laura continued, "Diana and Arlene both woke us up with a scream this morning. They scrambled out of bed, grabbed their guns and ran out of the bedroom, not even bothering to put anything on. Arlene yelled at us that Jeff was hurt. That's how we knew. Take it or leave it. Then we all instantly felt him. And we knew something was terribly wrong.

"We got up, snatched on some clothes, and were wondering what to do when Melissa thought of the radios that we had in the truck and the Escalade. Almost as soon as we got the radio out of the truck and turned it on, Di called us. She wanted us to wake you and get the healer, but of course, we were already looking for it.

"That's about it. You were there for the rest. And before you ask about the healer; we don't know."

"You mean it's not Jeff's invention?" Evie asked, looking at Laura, then her husband.

"But..." Dave started.

"We do know," Laura interrupted, "that Jeff has the healer legitimately. And, he has some sort of conditioning or something that keeps him from talking about it. He used to be in the military, maybe still is, but he can't talk about the healer without becoming violently sick. We have learned to trust you. Jeff trusts you. He never makes a mistake about friends. In addition, you have already seen the healer in action. We can't just deny its existence. Please, if you care anything about us, never reveal anything about the healer to anyone."

Dave glanced at Evie, then very earnestly said, "We thought it was one of Jeff's inventions, but if it needs to be kept secret, I assure you we'll never tell anyone."

After everyone had finished eating, Jennie and Melissa helped Evie stack the pizza boxes on the serving cart, along with the dirty dishes. As soon as they were in the kitchen with everything, Evie told them to go back to the living room, and she would clean up. A look of relief flooded their faces. They hugged her and hastily left.

"This is weird," Dave commented as he watched the girls rush out the kitchen door. "It's like..."

"Yeah," Evie said, "That's about as far as I get with it, too." She stepped back to eye the numerous cabinets, then the pantry door. "Help me find some large Ziplock bags. I know there are some here, somewhere. Then we can put the leftovers away and I can get the dishes started. Oh, I hope the dishwashers are empty, if I have to unload them, I'll never find where everything goes," she fretted.

"Why don't I just go back to the living room and ask one of them where they keep the freezer bags?" Dave said, "That would be the simplest thing."

"Then Diana, or Laura would probably come over here to show us. And,  I don't want to see that look on their faces. What kind of hold does that man have on those women that they can't be gone for more than a few minutes? If you were in the hospital, and I knew you were out of immediate danger, I could certainly go get something to eat. And you know I love you."

"I don't know Babe," Dave answered as he systematically searched cabinets. "Here they are, every size from small to monster."

"Well, whatever is going on," Dave continued as they stuffed pizza slices into freezer bags, "I will say that I've never seen the slightest indication that he treats any of them badly. The opposite, if anything. But, sitting over there all day, instead of walking a hundred feet and fixing something to eat, is a bit much. Oh, I think they would have, eventually. After all, Diana and Laura went with us when I carried Arlene to the shower, but they defiantly prefer to stay with him. No doubt about that."

As they finished up and carried the pizza to the freezer, Evie continued. "I want to hear more about this 'Alpha Male' they keep talking about. I thought that was supposed to apply to wolves or something. I would have said they were nuts yesterday, but after seeing that 'healer, ' then the way all these women are acting, well, I just don't know... You've been around them a lot more than I have. Did you notice anything before?"

"You mean, as in the guy's got six wives?"

"No, smartass. You know what I mean."

"Actually, I thought they were really down-to-earth people. Jeff was always considerate with the women as far as I could tell."

Evie stopped for a minute. "I told you he made them do pushups when they were practicing on that temporary range. But, they were all hugging him when they finished, and they were laughing and cutting up when they walked by us as they went back to the house. Still, what man makes his wife do pushups?"

"Search me," Dave said, starting to rinse plates as Evie opened a dishwasher.

"Great," she exclaimed. "It's empty."

As they loaded the dirty dishes, Dave answered, "I don't know anything about how things are conducted on a handgun range when they're training. I checked that one out the other day, but I've never had any real handgun training. Maybe it's a military thing. The army loves pushups, and she said Jeff had been in the military. That's probably where it came from. I've shot on a rifle range, and the discipline was strict, but it was just for civilians. They weren't teaching anyone to shoot, just making sure you didn't hurt anyone."

Evie put detergent in, closed the door, and started the washer. Straightening up, she looked at her husband, "When we get that new Escalade of yours unloaded, and my computer hooked up, I'm going to see if I can find anything on the web about an Alpha Male."

"I wonder if he grows fur at night and howls at the moon?" Dave teased.

"Okay now. Don't get started talking about werewolves way out here in the mountains. You'll be unloading our stuff by yourself."

"Boy, if I have to do that, my back will really be in bad shape," Dave said as he pinched her on the ass, then took off for the hallway with Evie in hot pursuit.

They carried everything into the apartment, and were just finishing hanging up their clothes when Diana called them on the intercom.

When Evie picked up the phone, Diana asked, "Could Dave come to the living room for a moment, please?"

When she hung up the phone, Evie said, "I wonder what she wants?"

"Potty," Dave said, laughing. "He's been in there all day drinking water and shakes. It's almost seven. It's a wonder it took this long."

When they walked into the living room, Jeff was sitting up in the recliner with the women hovering around him. "Hi, guys," Jeff said, his voice a little stronger, but his face still gray. "Dave, would you help me to the little boy's room. It seems that I'm not quite man enough just yet to make it on my own," he tried to tease.

Diana had made a sling for his arm, but the healer was still almost molded to the top of his shoulder. Jeff put his good arm over Dave's shoulders and they made it to the bathroom and back, but Jeff was visibly shaking as Dave eased him into the recliner a few minutes later.

The healer chirped, and Diana and Arlene lowered the recliner. Jeff sighed as his eyes closed, and he again slept.

Evie looked over in the corner and saw a wheelchair. Doctor Boswell saw her looking and commented, "I finally remembered this used to be a conference center and there should be wheelchairs here. Diana knew where they were but when we brought it in, Jeff flatly refused. He said to get you, Dave. It must be a man thing," she said, a smirk on her face. "We also thought we could get him into bed using the wheelchair, but that's not going to happen either. He's stubborn, if nothing else," she sighed. "So I guess we're going to stay in here tonight," she finished, an almost-pout on her face.

Evie stood for a moment, a little embarrassed, then quickly said, "Well, I'll go made a couple of pots of coffee, and bring over some drinks and ice."

As she and Dave entered the kitchen, Diana, Laura and Doctor Boswell came in behind them. Evie looked a question at them.

Diana shrugged. "Don't ask me. Jeff has never been seriously hurt before. At least not around me. I know he was hurt on some of his missions; he had scars when he got back. But, this is the first time that anything like this has happened — this thing, whatever it is. But somehow his getting up, albeit with Dave's help, has eased the pressure." She paused for a moment, then continued, "The compulsion, if that's what it was, isn't as strong now. I'm sorry... that you had to see us like that... I don't know what else to say."

Evie hugged her, then teasingly said, "We're glad we were here. You guys could lose a lot of weight that way."

Diana managed a weak laugh. "Oh, we would have fixed us something to eat, eventually. We were almost to that point when you came back this afternoon. But, it would have been stressful. I guess we don't know as much about our Alpha Male as we thought we did."

Laura broke in. "We'll take it from here. You two have done enough for the day. Why don't you go relax or do whatever you want to?"

Diana almost teared up, but managed to hold them back. "Dave, we might have to call you during the night unless we can talk him into using the wheelchair, which we just might be able to do. He won't want to wake you up."

"Don't worry about it Diana; just call us."

Dave and Evie went back to their apartment as the women decided on shifts.

-------

{{{?? Remember }}}

Jeff stood with his colonel in front of the general's desk, furious.

General Whitworth looked up at the two men, a deep frown on his face, "Both of you sit down."

Colonel Buckmann immediately sat down, but Jeff was a little slower.

The general continued, "Major Matthews, who I have recently promoted after your last very successful mission, I will rescind that promotion in a heartbeat if you continue with your attitude. I am well aware that you have served your requirements for military duty as they were originally put forth; however, your being recalled for additional missions from time to time, is well within the military's purview, and mine — no matter how many times I do it. You have no appeal. As you well know, this unit — this research facility — does not exist. If you so much as tell anyone, I can, and will have you shot."

Jeff started to say something.

"Don't fucking open your mouth, Major. I know you can make a hell of a lot more money as an engineer, but I happen to need an engineer, with combat experience, for these missions. I have, indeed, tried others. They wind up fucking dead. If I had sent someone else on this last mission, the whole team would have wound up dead in that hanger, either starved to death or killed by those other people — aliens — or whatever. I have to have someone with scientific expertise as well as common sense — and luck.

"Those scientists I sent on the last mission would still be trying to decide how to flush the fucking commode, or some such, on that craft you brought back, if you hadn't figured out how to talk to the AI. It created a fucking portal for you, and brought you back. It might as well have said, 'Will that be all, Sir?' The damn thing did everything but salivate for you. Three of those other pilots we tried with it are still comatose. And I suspect the others will never be totally right again. We have one person, other than yourself, that can talk to that AI. And he's scared shitless of the thing. And you want to pick up your marbles and go home."

"General," Jeff managed to get in, "I never said I wouldn't go on another mission for you. But I'm right in the middle of an invention that will bring in a lot of money for me and my family. If I wait much longer, my creditors are going to be the only winners. Sooner or later, someone else will think along the same lines I have, and my patents are not final yet. My family deserves better than this. Plus, you promised that one of the portable healers would be permanently assigned to me if I brought back a 'significant discovery' on this trip. I think an inter-dimensional spacecraft with an artificial intelligence filled that bill, and then some. You shook my hand on it. Now you say the healer is the property of the federal government. I brought back ten of those from the mission before this one, plus there are at least fifteen on the craft. One of them is mine, unless you word isn't any good. You also told me I would receive pay as a consultant — I haven't, all I'm getting is my military pay. Either I'm a consultant, or I'm in the military, which is it?"

The general just glared at him and motion for him to continue.

"My wife is walking normally now, because of that portable healer. You can't duplicate them, you can't reverse engineer them, and one of them is mine."

General Whitworth leaned back in his seat, looked over at the colonel and said, "Give us a minute, Steve."

The colonel got up and left without a backward glance.

They reached an agreement, although Jeff wasn't happy about it. Not one damned bit. But the general didn't care whether Jeff was happy or not, as long as he came when called.

Little One, I didn't like that the first time I went through it, and the replay wasn't any better.

{{{ After many impressions, Jeff put into words what he thought the healers was trying to say to him: Would you like for me to remove the blocks your general has put in? }}}

You can do that?

{{{ Impressions of indignation, and other impressions that seemed to mean: the blocks are very crude, along with again asking if he wanted them removed. }}}

I don't think I even have to answer that. After a while, Jeff realized that their communication wasn't that refined. Rephrasing, he said: Yes.

{{{ Impressions of: Mental chuckle. Go back to sleep. When you awaken, they will be gone. More of your strength will return by morning. }}}

Thanks, Little One.

Jeff drifted into a deeper sleep.



-------

Chapter 13

Dave and Evie were in the kitchen at six the next morning drinking coffee when Doctor Boswell walked in, her hair still wet from her morning laps in the pool. She and Evie exchanged greetings. Dave smiled a good morning and stood up. "There's no one in the living room this morning. How did you get him to go to bed?"

"Sit down, please," Doctor Boswell, laughed, "You make me feel old."

"Sorry, Doctor. I was raised to stand when a lady entered the room. Old habits are hard to break."

"Especially, when an old woman walks into a room?" she teased.

"Doctor Boswell..." I wonder why she's so touchy about her age. She can't be more than forty.

"Oh, hush, I'm just teasing you," she smiled, touching his arm. "Let me get a cup of life, as Jeff calls it, and sit with you two." When she had done so, and was stirring in creamer and sweetener, she continued, "He woke up and had to go to the bathroom about midnight. He managed to get into the wheelchair with our help, then after the bathroom, he just told us to take him on to the bedroom. I think he was finally awake enough to be more aware, saw our blankets and pillows on the floor, and realized we were sleeping beside him."

Taking a sip of the coffee, she smiled, "I stayed with them last night — Diana insisted. Even after the compulsion was almost gone, it seemed as if it were the thing to do. In addition to the night-light, we kept the closet light on with the door cracked just enough to be able to see Jeff. We took turns watching him all night, although I doubt if Diana, Laura and Arlene got much sleep anyway, since they kept waking up to see that he was okay. The healer spent at least half the time on his head. Every couple of hours after the time you two went to your apartment, until I went to swim, it would alternate between his shoulder and head. It seemed like it was trying to talk to us. Diana and Arlene say they can feel emotions from it, and get faint ideas that they think it's projecting."

Evie and Dave looked at each other, then Dave said, "Doctor, are you saying that thing can read minds, that it's, uh, telepathic, I guess the term is?"

Doctor Boswell took another sip of coffee, then set the cup down, her face for an instant, wan. Just when Dave thought she wasn't going to reply, she said, "The first night I came up here, I was very reluctant, to understate, to get involved with anyone or anything that would constitute my returning to a work environment. I didn't want to be around anyone, and I didn't want to associate with anyone. After my husband and sister-wife were killed," Evie and Dave looked at each other again, "... my world narrowed down to the minimal routines of the day, and... remembering."

"When I met Jeff and his family in that restaurant, I thought I would eat their food, be rude to them, leave, and they would never bother me again. Instead, somehow, I found myself in the back of this convention center, knowing I was going to spend the night with them — primarily because they had intrigued me, and partly because of that damn driveway from hell."

Evie almost strangled on her coffee, but grinned at the doctor.

"The more I was around them, the more I wanted to be around them. Then, I died, for all practical purposes, and Jeff used the healer on me. They changed me like a baby, and Jeff picked me up and carried me to the bathroom when I was a little better. Without them, I would probably be dead by now. Even if the heart attack hadn't happened that particular morning, it would have happened sooner or later. I lived alone. Someone would have found me, eventually.

"Then I started to notice things — not that they tried to hide anything from me, other than their plural marriage, in the beginning. But other things, like they always know where Jeff is, the touching of each other, and... Oh, I don't mean sexual touching. They certainly do that, but touching just because they love each other. And it goes both ways. It's not just the women yielding, or responding to their Alpha Male. He is just as likely to fix them coffee, bring them a coke, or pet them, as they are him. My goodness, he carries them shopping, and sometimes even suggests it; although, his pretending to like to do it is a little beyond his acting abilities," she laughed.

As Dave started to say something, Doctor Boswell interrupted, "Please, don't bother saying anything about the Alpha Male concept. I don't believe in it, either, at least, I don't think I do. I'm not a scientist by profession, but rather, an educator, but I do have degrees in physics, math, and chemistry. The scientific method is not a total stranger to me," she grinned. "I did not wish to believe, and I'm not sure that term is correct yet — although, it fits as well as any for the moment. However, I am sure that Jeff is different.

"Scientists are frequently the last to believe in new things, particularly if it is something they didn't discover. But there is something different about him. Jeff's six women get along beautifully. When they disagree — which is rare — they have an instant huddle, and a moment later, they're in full agreement. When one of them gets grouchy from PMS, they huddle, and cuddle her, then everyone is happy again. I've worked around groups of women for years. I've never felt that a good cuddle with someone with PMS was a thing I wanted to do," she chuckled. "But it works for them. Six women sharing one man, no matter how well he, uh... takes care of them, without at least, some friction between them, just... seems unusual — and that may be a slight understatement," she smiled.

"It's easy to be scientific about something not felt, not personal, but yesterday, I was already up and frantically putting my clothes on when Laura announced on the PA that Jeff was hurt. Oh, everyone knew something was wrong when Diana screeched out of here, but I knew it before I heard her leave. It was the most awful feeling of dread — no, that isn't quite right, perhaps apprehension would better describe it — that I can ever remember feeling. I met the others in the hallway. They told me that Diana and Arlene had awakened, screaming, and Arlene had said that Jeff was hurt, as she and Diana ran out. Then we all gathered to wait for news about Jeff.

"I did manage to make coffee for the others twice during the day. But I can't even explain the almost terror I felt each time I began to leave that room — from being away from Jeff. He was the Alpha Male, hurt, calling his females to him. I can't be scientific about that. It just was.

"The feeling diminished when Jeff was able to get up, but hasn't totally gone away, even now. I don't know whether he's an Alpha Male, as Diana and Laura so strongly believe, or he's a latent telepath — or something else. And, up until yesterday, I would have scoffed at the idea of anyone with telepathic abilities. No one, to my knowledge, has ever shown consistent evidence of any such ability; however, I felt Jeff calling me. Oh, not in words, I just had an extreme compulsion to be near him and to not leave him."

"Oh, shit," Evie very quietly said.

"Another thing, I've timed his morning runs, not very accurately, of course. But I know when he leaves, and many times I'm in the kitchen when he comes back. When I finally asked him how far he ran, he said it was fourteen miles — seven miles down and seven back. Have you ever been a runner Dave?"

Dave grinned, "Yeah, I used to run a little."

Doctor Boswell looked him in the eye. "How about five minute miles on this mountain, fourteen of them in a row?"

Dave sighed, "Doctor, I probably couldn't manage ten minute miles on this mountain even if I was in good shape. Part of that road is really steep, and none of it is flat."

"Well, he walks the last several hundred yards to cool down, and he told me he slow-jogs the first couple of hundred yards to warm up, instead of doing stretches — and he's still averaging five minute miles by my calculations. Sometimes, I wonder what a real world class distance runner could do on these roads," she said, absently turning her cup round and round on the table. "Could even world class do what Jeff is doing? And, although he's covered in perspiration when he comes in, he is obviously not physically stressed. When I asked him about his run, he minimized it, as he does with most everything else he does. I don't think his wives even know how far he runs each morning. Although fourteen miles is probably trivial to a true distance runner on reasonably level ground, still, almost every day, and on this mountain — it's impressive to me.

"So, getting back to your question, I'm not nearly so quick to mock the idea of the healer being telepathic as I was a few days ago. I'm beginning to wonder if it is, somehow, alive. It can change itself until it contours to perfectly fit Jeff's head or shoulder, and it can slowly move around on his body. If it isn't alive, there is an artificial intelligence in there that is so far beyond any computers, or computer programs, that I have ever heard of, that there just isn't any comparison."

Doctor Boswell suddenly sat up straight. "Oh, my," she mysteriously said. Quickly getting up, she took a cup from the rack, filled the cup with coffee, and had just set it on the table when Jeff slowly walked through the door, flanked by a herd of women fussing over him.

"She knew," Evie mouthed to Dave.

Dave sat, stunned for a second, then asked Jeff how he felt.

"Don't ask," Jeff tried to joke, waving his hand in a negative gesture, his voice weak. "I don't even want to think about how I feel. But I will say that I never realized how far it is from our bedroom to this kitchen," he added, sitting down and pressing his good arm against the top of the table, in an effort to hide the tremble.

"I told you it was too soon, Honey," Diana said, helping him slide his chair up, fighting the urge to coddle him, but unable to hide the concern in her voice.

All the women were stressed, and reluctant to leave Jeff long enough to begin breakfast. Jeff, seeing the stress reflected on Helen's face as well, reached over and squeezed her hand for a moment.

Jeff hugged each of his wives in turn, then spoke to them all. "The healer told me my blood volume would be back to normal by day after tomorrow. I'm just weak from blood loss, trauma, and the effects of shock. I'm fine — so long as I don't get in a fight with a three-day-old kitten," he joked. "My buddy here," he said patting the healer affectionately, "is putting me back together. And my wives, and my friends," he said nodding at Dave and Evie, "have saved my life." He squeezed Doctor Boswell's hand again to let her know that she was included in there somewhere.

He picked up the cup of coffee, propping his elbow on the table, trying to nonchalantly take a sip while keeping his hand from shaking. He managed to set the cup down without spilling any, but just barely.

With tears in her eyes, Diana kissed him, then announced, simply, "Breakfast."

The production line dropped into gear. The boss bitch had spoken.

Evie laughed, and got up to help.

-------

Breakfast was quieter than usual, with occasional half-hearted bantering between the girls. There were furtive glances at Jeff as he seemed to have to force his food down. Diana had cut up his steak before she brought his food, the steak only a third the size of the one he usually ate, plus two eggs instead of five or six. He had only a small glass of milk, small orange juice, and his coffee, instead of the large glasses he normally had — and those refilled.

His face had a faint sheen of sweat as he finished the last bite of steak, pushing the plate back to finish his coffee.

Dave pushed his plate back as well, although he had been done for some time. "Boss, if it's okay with you, Evie is going to start the crew on demolition for the classroom space. There's still light rain, off and on, and even if it quits, the range is going to be too wet to do any work there."

"Sounds good to me," Jeff answered. "You'll forgive me, I hope, if I don't come around and harass you today," he said, forcing a grin onto his face.

"Uh, Jeff, I don't mean to... well... You need to listen to these women. You need to take it easy. Nobody should be up in one day with a wound like that. Man, you lost a lot of blood."

Jeff peered down at his left arm, overemphasizing the look, "Oh, you mean this little thing?" he grinned. "It's just a scratch." Everyone dutifully laughed, but the laughter fell almost as flat as the joke did.

Laura had cut the left sleeve out of one of Jeff's tee-shirts, then widened the armhole until the wound was totally uncovered. He would have, at least, some clothing on his upper body. Even with the healer sitting molded to the top of his shoulder, the wound was obviously ghastly; large areas exposed with tissue totally missing.

Seeing Evie and Dave looking at the shoulder, Diana said, "Last night we got gauze to cover the wound when the healer moved to his head, but we got, well... fussed at, I guess you could say, by the healer. It wants the area open. Each time it stays on a place for a while, then moves, there is less tissue missing where the healer has been."

Jeff, obviously unable to move the arm, adjusted the sling, then repositioned his left arm with his other hand, and smiled. "Don't ever get a grizzly pissed at you."

Arlene caught her dad's eye. "Daddy, we couldn't ask before. Uh, what did you do to make him mad at you?"

"Darned if I know," Jeff laughed. "The wind had gusted, and I thought I heard a limb from one of the trees blown across the pavement. When I looked around, it wasn't a limb. He was coming for me, hell bent for leather. Thinking about it, I know that dogs will chase you if you run from them; some instinct kicks in. Whether that applies to bears, I have no idea. Maybe he saw me as prey because I was running. But I didn't feel like lying down and playing dead. He meant business."

"Could you have climbed a tree?" Melissa asked.

Jeff shook his head. "When I first saw him, he was about twenty yards from me. I took a few steps running full out, then looked back. He was on me in seconds. It was like a car coming at you. I don't want to exaggerate. But it seemed like he was running forty miles an hour. Maybe it was my excitement, but you should have seen him when I stopped and stepped aside. His charge missed me — barely. He slid to a stop, his body turning toward me while he was still sliding. I'll always remember the sound of his claws on that pavement as he was stopping. He was back on me before I could even get my gun out from under my shirt in the back. Then he hit me. When he started to rear up, I just stuck the gun in his face and pulled the trigger. You know the rest."

"Yeah," Dave said, "one dead grizzly with a .45 caliber hole where his left eye used to be. Not to try to kiss my boss's butt here, Jeff. But most people would never have been able to put a round into his eye, no matter how close the bear was. Not under those circumstances. Particularly with half their shoulder torn off."

"Bullshit," Jeff said. "You would have."

Dave, a little flustered, said, "I seriously doubt it."

"And thanks again for bringing me into this house, and checking on the bear..."

"And cleaning the blood out of the Escalade," Laura added.

"And for everything else you two did yesterday," Jeff finished.

Evie looked at Diana, then back to Jeff. "We checked our bank account yesterday when we went home. I paid some bills and reconciled our checkbook on the phone with the bank's computer. Dave has been working for you for two days, and his check is already in the bank, and... there is a duplicate deposit as well."

Jeff and Diana just grinned. "Our accountant doesn't waste time," Diana broke in.

"But," Evie persisted, "even if you did hire me the other day — and yeah, we saw the vote, I'm not worth as much as my husband... He's the contractor..."

"Oh, do we need to give him a raise, so you two won't be making the same salary?" Diana teased.

"No," Evie said, almost frantic until she belatedly realized that Diana was teasing her.

Jeff broke in, "You two proved your worth yesterday, but we already knew it. End of discussion."

Evie's eyes sparkled with tears as Jennie, who was sitting on the other side of her, reached over and hugged her. The tears really started then.

While the women were hugging, Dave got up and left. Shortly, he was back pushing the wheelchair.

"I'm not riding in that thing," Jeff objected, eyeing it as if it were a week-old carcass.

"Jeff," Dave teased, in a stern voice. "You might be able to whip my ass on a good day, but this isn't a good day. Now get your butt in this chair and we'll take a ride to the living room," he finished, grinning.

The two men looked at each other for a moment, then Jeff grinned and got slowly into the chair.

Dave, as shocked as everyone else, turned them around and headed out the kitchen door, saying over his shoulder, "Bring the man some coffee, please. We'll be in the living room discussing our projects."

Dave got Jeff into the recliner and comfortable, and they shortly had coffee, smilingly delivered by Laura, with an insulated carafe sitting on the table when they wanted refills, plus a platter of assorted sweet rolls delivered by Melissa.

Dave had discreetly tried to get a close look at the wound to see how it was coming along, as he helped Jeff into the recliner. When the women left, Jeff said, "Go ahead and check it out. I understand."

"Uh, Jeff, I'm sorry. It's just that... Hell, there's a whole lot of your shoulder and upper arm that still just isn't there. Are you sure we don't need to get you to a hospital? It's not bleeding, but..."

"The portable healer will fix me. It will take a while, but she will put the shoulder back the way it was."

"She?"

Jeff put his hand on the healer. "I don't really know if it's a he or a she, or an it. I just think of it as a she, and usually call her 'Little One.'"

"But the women said you couldn't talk about it," Dave realized, puzzled.

"I couldn't. And still can't. But now it's just that I'm not going to violate my security commitments. She fixed the blocks last night. They were pointless, anyway, with everyone having seen her."

"But I'm still worried that, maybe you should see a doctor. You came awful close to death."

"I've been closer," Jeff sighed.

He struggled to sit up and pull up his tee-shirt.

"Easy Jeff. What're you doing?"

"Raise my shirt in the back."

When Dave pulled the shirt up, Jeff continued. "That scar is the exit wound, the entrance wound is in the front here," he motioned to a small round scar on his right chest.

Dave helped him pull his shirt down and get settled back. "A sniper. I really thought I was dead that time. But this Little One's momma," he joked, "put me back together."

"So, that's the reason you called it 'portable.' There's a bigger one."

"Yeah, and I've already violated security by saying that much. But, this one will make me well — totally. I'd be amazed if there were even much scarring."

"Jeff, if the hospital emergency rooms had access to this," he said nodding toward the healer, "an awful lot of lives could be saved. Good grief. What if we could have them in ambulances, and rescue vehicles?"

Jeff put his hand on Dave's arm to stop him. "It will never happen." He thought for a moment, "At least for the foreseeable future. You have no idea what I had to go through to get this one, and it's not really mine. But it is assigned to me from now on."

"But..."

"Stop Dave. Don't push it. I can't tell you any more about the subject." Jeff awkwardly got his coffee off the table. After taking a sip, he noticed the look on Dave's face. Sighing, he said, "Somehow, you're just going to have to trust me on this. I am doing all I can. Maybe someday, what you asked about will come to fruition."

Both men sat in silence for a while, Dave still not wanting to give the subject up, and Jeff wishing Dave had never seen the healer.

Dave, seeing the stress on Jeff's face, realizing he had probably put it there, asked, "Do you feel up to discussing your 'fortress' for a little while?"

Jeff sighed. "Dave, I promise you that I have, and will continue to do everything in my power to accomplish the things you've just talked about. Those are my visions too, but believe me, if you, or anyone else, tried to go public with this, I'll be stood up and shot with no more thought than I had when I shot that bear — less."

"Ah, crap," Dave said.

After a couple of minutes of silence, "Boss, while Evie is working on the classroom demolition, I'm going to get Korey a little more settled in."

"Today is Saturday; isn't it?" Jeff asked. At Dave's nod, he continued, "Still working six days a week, huh? When you transferred things entirely over to Korey, you need to cut back to five. Diana is insistent upon that. And so am I. About settling him in, that sounds like a good idea. Take you time about it, though. I don't want you to screw up your business to take on your new job. But you mentioned the fortress?"

"Yeah. Why don't we give Mr. Wainwright a call, if you think you might be able to get hold of him on Saturday, and find out if he has any suggestions for an architect? Otherwise, I can get on the net and start looking, but I'd rather have one that someone knows produces good work.

"If he recommends the guy that worked on this building, I can get along with him. I just don't know whether he has the expertise to build something underground. He was dead on with the wind generators, and the heating systems — the solar, electrical and gas. There were a few errors in the construction plans for the convention center itself, but everyone makes those. And he wasn't an ass when I called them to his attention, either. He was the boss. He had a couple more engineers working with him, but he was the one I dealt with. Maybe he could recommend someone for the mining, though. And we could still use him, and his team for everything else."

Jeff managed to put his cup back on the table beside his chair. "What time is it? I guess my watch came off my arm during my little escapade yesterday. Or else Diana took it off while I was out."

"Quarter to eight."

"Wainright will be at his office. He always works a half-day on Saturday. The guy's a workaholic. One of the vice presidents told me that Frank sometimes comes in as early as six, and is almost always there by seven. Do you have something to write on? I'll give you his number."

Dave pulled his notepad and pen out of his pocket. "I haven't called there since we built the center; even then I worked mostly with Tingle. I've got the number in my pad in the apartment." Hesitating, he continued, "Did you call that place so many times that you still remember the number?"

Jeff glanced at Dave. "No. Oh, I talked with them a good bit, but after my first meeting with them, they usually called me on my cell. It's just a thing I have with numbers. They always seem to stick with me."

As Dave jotted down the number that Jeff gave him, the contractor remembered what Doctor Boswell had said about Jeff minimizing things — wondering if phone numbers were the only thing Jeff easily remembered.

Dave walked over and picked up the portable phone from its cradle. Turning to Jeff, "Do you want... ?" He abruptly stopped when he realized Jeff was already asleep. Well, I guess that answers my question about whether I talk to Wainright, or Jeff does.

"Wainwright, Incorporated," a pleasant sounding female voice answered on the fourth ring.

Startled, expecting to get a voice menu, Dave wasted a second waiting before he realized he was actually talking to a live human being. "This is Dave Henson, the contractor that built the conference center for Mr. Wainright. I'm calling for Jeff Matthews. Could I speak with Mr. Wainwright, please?"

"Sir, the number you dialed rang his secretary's desk. She's not in yet so the call rolled over to me. Hold on a moment, please, and let me see if I can track Mr. Wainwright down. He doesn't carry a cell with him when he's in the labs."

After a lengthy wait, Wainwright, himself, came on the line. "Jeff, what can I do for you?"

"Uh, Mr. Wainright, this is Dave Henson, the contractor for the conference center."

"Oh, hi, Dave. I haven't heard from you since you finished up. I'm in one of the labs, and the tech just told me that Jeff was on the line. What can I do for you?"

"Well, actually, I'm calling for Mr. Matthews. I'm working for him now, and need to discuss some things with you, maybe get your recommendation for an architect."

"Look, I'll be glad to talk to you, but I'm in the middle of a small crisis right now. How about I call you when I get back to my office? You say you're working for Jeff? Are you at the convention center now?"

"Dave chose to answer the last question, "Yeah, I'm at the convention center."

"Good. Put Jeff on the phone so I can say hello to him, and I'll call you back when I get back to my office and have more time to discuss things with you."

Dave glanced over at Jeff, knowing by now that the healer probably wouldn't let Jeff wake. "Well, Jeff had a little accident yesterday..."

"What kind of accident? Is he in the hospital?" Wainwright broke in, concern evident in his voice.

Ah, crap. Now what do I tell this guy? "Jeff is okay. He was attacked by a grizzly yesterday, while he was on his morning run."

"He what? And he's not in the hospital? Let me talk to Jeff."

"Well, he's asleep right now."

Wainwright's voice changed, "What's going on Henson? There is no way in hell that Jeff Matthews is going to be asleep at eight o'clock in the morning, unless he's been up all night, or there is something badly wrong. If he gets up at five o'clock on a weekday, he calls it sleeping in, and I doubt if he would sleep much later on a Saturday."

"Look, Mr. Wainwright, I promise you Jeff will be fine. He's just sleeping right now. I'll have him call you when he wakes up."

"Mr. Henson. I know a lot more about Jeff Matthews than you think I do. Something is wrong. Put Mrs. Matthews on the phone, please," he said, his voice grim.

Dave sighed. "Okay, hold on." He punched the hold button, then looking at the list, dialed the kitchen on the intercom. When Arlene answered, he told her to tell her mother to talk to Wainwright on line one.

When the line light quit blinking, he put the portable back into its cradle. "Fuck!"

Shortly, Diana walked into the living room. "That was an interesting conversation," she said, picking up a pack and lighter from the table and lighting a cigarette.

"Sorry Diana. That man is intense. He was adamant about talking to you after I told him Jeff was sleeping and couldn't talk to him right now. After I mentioned the bear attack, it was all over."

Diana reached over for an ashtray, "I'm not sure he believed me either. I think the only reason I'm not still on the phone with him is that something was going on wherever he was, and he had to attend to it."

"Yeah, he had already told me there was some kind of crisis in one of the labs. Shit, I sure opened up a can of worms. Sorry, Diana. Jeff and I were going to get Wainwright's input for an architect, but by the time I got Wainwright on the phone, Jeff had gone to sleep..."

Diana looked at her husband, then touched Dave's arm. "Dave, I'm not upset with you. Wainwright just kept asking why Jeff wasn't in the hospital. And I couldn't seem to come up with the reason Jeff was asleep if he wasn't badly hurt. And I wasn't going to lie and say that he wasn't badly hurt."

"Crap," Dave said. "I should have just lied myself, and said that Jeff wasn't here right now, and that I would have him call when he got home. The whole darn thing just escalated."

"When he calls back," Diana said as she walked toward her husband, "maybe Jeff will be awake; otherwise, I'll deal with Wainwright."

Dave waited around for an hour, getting underfoot and bugging Evie, but Wainwright had not called back.

Glaring at him, hands on hips, she said, "What's the matter? Am I suddenly unable to supervise tearing down a couple of walls? Who are these people going to answer to? Me or you?"

With a vision of a cat standing, hissing, its fur on end, Dave hastily said, "I'm going to run into Denver and pass on some things to Korey."

"That's a really good idea," she said, lightly kissing him on the lips and walking away.

As he opened the door from the stairway and stepped into the hallway on the first floor, Laura met him with a go cup of coffee. Grinning, she kissed him on the cheek and went back toward the kitchen. Now how did she know I was leaving? Sipping the coffee, he realized it had just the right amount of creamer and sugar in it. Laura has never fixed my coffee before. How did she know how I liked it? Well, I guess she must have asked Evie, or noticed me fixing mine. But Evie is upstairs. He figuratively scratched his head and took another sip.

As he opened the back door, he stepped back and reached for an umbrella. The light rain had changed to a downpour. His mind returned to the go cup again as he absently opened the umbrella and walked out. They're messing with me. I know they are. I'm just not sure, how they are. How in the heck does Jeff survive six of them?

As he opened the door to his new Escalade, he looked at the parking lot where Diana had burned rubber backing out and slewing the big vehicle around. It looks like a teenage boy with an attitude, lives here. How in the heck do I clean that off? Oh, well, something else to think about.

-------

Doctor Boswell managed to get the girls to class, each testing out on a subject by two in the afternoon. As Boswell walked out of the conference room she had set up for a classroom, Diana met her in the hallway. "I just got a call from Wainwright. He and Margaret are in Denver. He's coming up here and bringing dinner with him, via a catering service."

Doctor Boswell stopped. "Wow. Nothing like inviting yourself, and someone else, then bringing your dinner with you."

Looking at Diana's face, Laura, who had just walked up, said, "That's really pushy. But when we were in Saint Louis, he seemed to respect Jeff, and have a high regard for his abilities."

Diana looked at Laura. As her face softened, she sighed, "Any other time, I would be thrilled. I know that Jeff has already invited Mr. Wainwright, plus Kathy and Captain Madison, and I suppose the copilot as well. Wainwright mentioned that the plane had to go on somewhere else, so at least there will only be Wainwright and Margaret. But we have to keep the healer a secret. And it won't let us remove it, or even bandage the wound," she finished, frustrated.

"Why not just drape a large towel over Jeff's shoulder. If Jeff stays in the living room on the recliner, no one will think much about it. He can just say that part of the wound doesn't have a bandage covering it, and maybe, imply that he's just a little embarrassed about people looking at his injury."

"And why isn't he in the hospital if he was seriously injured just yesterday? The problem with lies is that you just have to keep adding to them. Wainwright has already told Dave, or at least strongly implied that he (Wainwright) thinks something isn't right. I'm just about ready to tell him that it isn't any of his fucking business," she snarled.

Laura hugged her, and so did Doctor Boswell, although she grinned when she realized she was doing it. Remembering her comments at the table this morning about hugging other women who had PMS, she mused, Well, Diana doesn't have PMS — does she?

"We need a family meeting," Diana said, turning back toward the kitchen. She found the nearest intercom, punched PA for the second floor, and told Evie to meet her in the kitchen as soon as she could.

Helen, realizing that Diana had punched only the second floor for the PA, knowing that she didn't want to disturb Jeff, said, "I'll round up the girls; they said something about going for a swim."

"No need," Diana said, starting for the kitchen, "they'll be there."

Helen shrugged as they headed for the kitchen.

The timer went off a couple of minutes after they walked through the kitchen door. Taking six golden loves of bread out of one of the big ovens, Diana and Laura lined them up on a large breadboard on one of the counters. Adjusting the bread slicer to its thickest setting, Laura ran a couple of the loves through as Doctor Boswell, catching on, put out plates and butter, then started the coffee makers on fresh pots.

As Evie walked through the door, four bikini-clad teenagers filed in behind her. Soon, there were coffee and iced tea on the table as Arlene added several types of jelly to go with the still-hot bread.

Jeff's chair stood vacant as everyone got a slice of bread and decorated it with butter, jelly, or both. As they quieted, Diana said, "Here's the problem. Wainwright and Margaret (one of the vice presidents at Wainwright, Inc.) are on the way up here."

There was a stir at the table, and when everyone quieted, Diana continued, "The problem is the healer. This is what Laura, Helen and I have come up with so far..."

-------

As the limo pulled into the back, followed closely by the catering van, Arlene and Ann quickly carried umbrellas out. When the limo door opened, Arlene struggled to unfurl an umbrella for Wainwright as he stepped out, while trying to hold her own, as well.

"Thank you, Arlene. You remember Margaret, don't you," he said, trying to hold the umbrella so that his vice president wouldn't get wet as she got out of the vehicle. She waved aside the preferred umbrella Ann offered, and just hugged close to Wainwright, instead.

"Sure, Mr. Wainwright," Arlene said, not remembering Margaret's last name, and unwilling to use just her first.

Realizing that Arlene didn't know her last name, "It's still just Margaret, Dear. Our company doesn't stand on formality. There are too many stuffed shirts running around there, anyway, so we tone them down a little by calling everyone by their first names. And who is this?" she smiled at Ann.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Margaret, Mr. Wainwright, this is Ann. Ann, this is Margaret and Mr. Wainwright."

Surprising them, Ann put her hand out, and greeted them as an adult would.

When they had returned her greeting, Margaret said, "It wasn't raining in Denver, but the closer we got to the mountains, the more it looked like it would. By the time we topped the first one above Winter Park, it was really coming down," she finished, scrunching tighter against Wainwright as the wind whipped the rain around them.

"You guys go on inside," Arlene said motioning to the back door where Diana was standing, while we give umbrellas to the caterers.

The limo driver, laden with luggage, and struggling with his own umbrella in the wind, was already headed for the house.



-------

Chapter 14


"Jeff, Wainwright is here," Laura said over and over. "Come on Jeff, you have got to wake up."

{{{?? }}}

After hearing Laura call him as if in a dream, Jeff's mind was finally able to focus well enough to try to talk to the healer. Little One,  Jeff thought, trying to send mental images of what he was trying to say. Wainwright is here. Like Diana tried to tell you earlier, I need to be fully functional, and I need to get a shirt on so they don't see how bad the injury is... 

Although it was not complete speech, Jeff saw images, and impressions that he thought meant the following: {{{ I am in the process of growing missing nerve fiber, and reconnecting the major nerve bundle in your arm. I cannot stop and restart the process. I will not stop it, although I will allow you to be awake for a period of time. }}} It did manage to clearly convey that it was more than a little aggravated.

Jeff was suddenly completely conscious, and for the first time, he fully realized how much the healer had been anesthetizing his arm. It wasn't anesthetized now. It felt like he had just grabbed a live wire. There was no doubt that the healer was working on the nerve in his arm — none. The pain was intense.

Jeff sucked in his breath and leaned forward in his seat. Before he could fully focus his thoughts, he received images that he eventually interpreted as: {{{ I cannot fully relieve you of pain and reconnect these nerves at the same time. Also, your body's regenerative powers function to a much higher degree when you are deeply asleep. }}}

Just do what you can, Little One. I must talk with these people. It's also imperative that I somehow keep your existence secret. I don't know how much of this you understand, but I need to be awake for a while, and I need to be able to function. He kept repeating his thoughts, trying desperately to make up mental pictures as he slowly thought the words and concepts.

The pain slackened somewhat, and the live wire effect reduced to just a very irritating tingling. Laura wiped the sheen of sweat off Jeff's face with a tissue and tossed it in the wastecan. "Welcome back. But I take it that you're in a great deal of pain."

"Not as much as I was for a minute," Jeff sighed, realizing that he had been clamping his teeth tight together. "She's working on the big nerve in my arm, and can't completely stop the pain and do whatever she is doing, too. At least not with me awake, I think."

Laura draped a large, thick bath towel over his shoulder and arm. "Diana is stalling Wainwright, but he's insistent upon seeing you. He brought Margaret with him, plus a catered meal. I don't like this Jeff. When he sees you, he going to know you were badly hurt. It doesn't make sense that you didn't go to a hospital. How are we going to keep the healer secret?" she finished, more than a little upset.

Jeff sighed, struggling to get out of the recliner. When he was upright, with her help, "Where are they?"

"In the small dining room next to the kitchen."

As she tried to steer him to the wheelchair, "No. I'll walk. If I go in there in that thing, he'll know the wound is serious and start wondering about the hospital, like you said. Put it in a closet someplace out of sight."

Laura did as he asked, and still caught up with him before he was halfway to the dining room.

The caterers had brought the food into the kitchen, but suddenly found out that they would not be serving. At Diana's direction, they transferred the food that was in nondisposable containers to Diana's dishes. She tipped them, and then sent them on their way before Wainwright realized what had happened.

When Diana and the harem began bringing the food into the dining room where Wainwright and Margaret were, he asked, "Where are the caterers? They're supposed to do the serving. We didn't come here to put the work on you, Mrs. Matthews."

"Number one," Diana said, smiling, but her voice brittle, "I sent them on their way. Number two; I don't allow guests to serve themselves. So sit, and this wonderful food will be ready in just a minute."

Wainwright knew the comment about serving themselves was meant as a dig about him bringing the caterers. He had just opened his mouth to ask where Jeff was, when he received a sharp elbow, masterfully delivered to his short ribs by Margaret, who smiled sweetly at him. "I told you this was a bad idea," she hissed quietly to him while the women were out of the room.

A moment later, Wainwright watched his hosts placing food and drinks on the table, and was impressed with the coordination between the women and girls. The four teenage girls seemed to take as much responsibility as the women. Within minutes everything was ready. He saw a faint smile touch Diana's mouth as she picked up the carafe and filled the cup by the plate at the head of the table. Just as Wainwright was about to ask if Jeff were going to eat with them, the door opened and Jeff walked in flanked (the only word that seemed to fit) by his assistant.

Before Wainwright could speak, Jeff said, "Well, well. Look who the cat's dragged in. It's about time you people paid us a visit."

Wainwright opened his mouth, then closed it. Margaret spoke up, smiling, "Well, well, yourself. I was led to believe you were at death's door. Now here you come strolling in chastising us. Of course," she said, grinning, "Not everyone wears a towel to dinner."

"Oh, you mean this old thing," Jeff kidded. "It's just something I threw on."

Margaret smiled, but Wainwright just looked suspicious, though he did force a chuckle.

As usual with everything he did, Wainwright had gone all out with the dinner. But he noted that Jeff ate sparingly. I've only eaten with him a few times, but he always ate a lot. When we stopped at that hamburger joint, he ate three big burgers. This time, with a table full of food, he has eaten sparingly. Bear attack? The towel is covering his whole left side. If he got mauled, why didn't he go to a hospital? This just doesn't make sense. He started to ask about the towel, but it was obvious that Jeff was using it to cover his wounds. Why cover them? Surely his wounds are bandaged.

When the meal was over, Jeff stood. "Shall we adjourn to the living room? I'm sure you people are tired from the flight and the ride up here."

As everyone got up, the girls surrounded Wainwright and Margaret. Arlene grabbed his arm, "Oh, Mr. Wainwright, my present was super. But you spent way too much money on it. I wore the outfit to dinner a while ago, and I got compliments on it. Thank you." Still holding his arm, she reached up and kissed his cheek, then prattled on about her friends that had come to live with her.

Wainwright finally managed to extract himself from the human traffic jam, then make it to the living room. If he realized that he had been deliberately delayed so he wouldn't see Jeff slowly walk down the hall, he gave no indication of it. When he got to the living room, Jeff was already leaning back in a recliner.

"Come in and have a seat, Frank. Diana will probably bring some coffee over shortly."

Diana didn't bring coffee, but she brought everyone else. She and the girls engaged Margaret in conversation before any of them sat down. Wainwright had been standing to Jeff's left, and he casually walked past the recliner as if going over to look out the glass wall. As he passed Jeff, he reached down and raised the towel up, then froze as he looked at the wound.

"Oh, hell," Wainwright softly said, then louder, "What's that on your shoulder, Jeff?"

Jeff snatched the towel out of Wainwright's hand, and let it fall back in place on his shoulder, glaring at Wainwright. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Frank?"

"Now, I'm beginning to understand..."

Diana shoved Wainwright aside, hard enough that he stumbled. All four girls, plus Doctor Boswell surrounded Jeff. Laura went to the side of the room to stand beside a small table, turned to face them, and put her hand behind a large flower pot on the table.

"Well, are you satisfied now, Frank?" Jeff asked, his voice angry.

Wainwright glanced at the women, all of them radiating aggression, protecting Jeff. When he looked at Laura and realized that her hand was obviously behind the flower pot, his face blanched.

Wainwright put his hands out in front of him, "Easy ladies, I meant no harm. Certainly not to Jeff."

"We have tried to be nice to you, but you have insisted in meddling in something that's not any of your business," Diana snarled, stepping between Wainwright and Jeff.

Wainwright tried to look past her at Jeff. "Look, I know more about you than you think I do..." The glares got worse. "Uh, that didn't come out right. Jeff, we analyzed that thing on your shoulder for a month..."

"Stop" Jeff suddenly said. "Everyone leave Frank and me alone for awhile, please."

"There is no way we're going to leave him in here alone with you Jeff," Laura loudly said.

"Look, Hon. He doesn't mean me any harm..."

"The hell he doesn't," she hissed. "You told us you would be shot if word got out about the healer. I think being shot falls into the category of harm — way into it."

"Come here, Laura," Jeff said, his voice soft and full of emotion.

Laura hesitated a moment, then walked over to Jeff, the Glock down by her side.

Wainwright had a hard time not pissing on himself.

Quietly, Wainright said, "Laura, I have the same clearance that Jeff does — for the same project," he added, looking at Jeff for an instant before returning his eyes back to Laura. "Anything we discuss won't fall into any category that could possibly cause him to get into trouble, let alone be shot. Jeff and I need to talk, and we can't do it in front of anyone here. Please believe me," he said, struggling to keep his eyes from looking down at the pistol.

Laura looked at Diana, who after several seconds, nodded almost imperceptibly.

Laura, defiantly laid the pistol in Jeff's lap, pushed past Wainwright and walked out of the room. When Diana glanced at the other women, they followed. Diana took Wainwright by the upper arm bringing her lips to his cheek, which she lightly kissed, then whispered in his ear. "If you cause our husband to be hurt in any way, there will be seven females that will find you and make you wish you were never born. Then I will personally kill you." She smiled sweetly and strutted out of the room.

"What did she say?" Jeff casually asked when Diana closed the door.

Wainwright's face turned red, "Your..."

"Careful," Jeff interjected as he laid the pistol on the table, almost negligently pushing the gun aside. "They've been stressed since I got hurt. I'm not absolutely certain I can control them if they think I'm in danger, and if I raise my voice, they might just interpret it that way. And,  if you say anything bad about Diana, I will get pissed, and I will raise my voice."

Wainwright, initially furious at what Diana had said, thought for a moment, then walked over to the glass wall. Looking out, he watched the rain being blown by the wind, the droplets swirling around the yard lights. Just as he was about to speak, Margaret, who had been escorted out when the women left, walked back in, quietly closing the door behind her.

"Well, Frank, that went well," she sarcastically said. "Care for an encore?"

There was a prolonged silence, before, "Can that woman shoot that damn gun?" Wainwright asked in a calm voice, still looking out at the rain.

Jeff chuckled, "You don't even want to know, Frank."

"Ah, shit!"

After a moment of silence Jeff said, "Margaret, would you pick up the phone, punch intercom, dial one thirty-one, and tell whoever answers the phone to bring some coffee over, please."

Margaret laughed as she did as he asked. "I'll tell them that you asked for the coffee. I don't think they're in the mood to be told anything by us right now."

Almost before she had hung up the phone, Melissa and Jennie came in with a serving cart. Margaret, trying to restore peace, hugged both of them and told them thank you. They touched Jeff, lovingly, glared at Wainwright, and turned to leave.

Wainwright looked at the girls as they walked out the door, a contemplative expression on his face.

"They're my wives, Frank, all of them."

"Wha..."

"You didn't notice, Frank?" Margaret said, fighting a snicker.

"Well, I..." Suddenly he turned back to the glass wall, clasping his hands together behind him. After a moment, he sighed and said, "Margaret, the instrument that we had in the lab for a month, that your crew studied — Jeff has it, or one just like it, on his shoulder." Still looking at the outside, he continued, "Jeff, did you ever wonder who created the portal equipment?"

Jeff looked at him, but said nothing. When the silence dragged on, Jeff said, "You're going to have to do a lot of explaining. You're the one who is going to have to give out the information. So far, all I've heard are a couple of innuendoes."

Still not turning around, Wainwright said, "Doctor Arnold works for our company, as well as two of the techs that were on your mission a couple of years ago. We built most of the hardware — all of the software — for the portal. I didn't realize you were the Major that the General was talking about until I raised that towel and saw that instrument. Then things came crashing together. We never did ascertain what it did. A little over two years ago, we ran every test we could think of, did everything to it but put it in a press and make a pancake out of it. I haven't seen the healing chambers on the ship, but I know about them."

He stood silent for a moment, then continued, "Ah... not only did you bring that ship back, but you were the one who was shot by a sniper and almost killed, weren't you? Yeah, that had to be you. Everything makes sense now." Wainwright turned around. "Can I look at... whatever it is on your shoulder? I assume it's doing something to your wound."

Jeff hesitated a moment, then nodded. As Wainwright walked over, Jeff pulled the towel aside. Margaret hissed an intake of breath and fought not to throw up when she saw the wound, then got up to get a closer look at the healer.

As Wainwright reached out to touch the healer, Jeff interjected, "Don't. She's already pissed. Don't touch her. She's putting the big nerve in my arm back together, and wants me to be asleep. I got her to let me stay awake for awhile since you were here — and she wasn't pleased. I don't know what she will do if you touch her, but I have the impression that she's very capable of defending herself."

"So this is... ?"

"A portable healer. And before you even ask. No, I didn't steal it. It's assigned to me, permanently."

"How in the hell did you get that ship back through the portal? The aperture isn't large enough to get something a hundredth that size through it?"

Jeff managed a grin. "You know something about the healer, the portal, and even the ship, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you're cleared to know everything that I do, or that I'm cleared to know everything you do. When the general or the colonel tells me it's okay to talk, then we'll talk. Until then..."

Margaret knelt down beside Jeff as the men were talking, and stared at the healer, then, forcing herself, the wound. "Don't you think you need to have a doctor, at least, check this out?" she asked, her eyes indicating his arm.

"She'll put it back together. If I understand correctly, she synthesized some sort of blood substitute to keep me alive while she did the immediate repairs. Now she is having my body make its own blood at an increased rate, while she is regenerating nerve tissue. She'll get around to the cosmetics when she's done with everything else. My strength should come back as the synthetic is replaced with the real stuff. As to the hospital, I wouldn't be here if Diana hadn't thought to get the healer out. I would never have made it to a hospital. She'll do what the big one on the ship did for me; it will just take longer."

"But how did you get it to work? Admittedly, we never imagined it had anything to do with healing. But how did you realize that it could heal, and what did you do?" she asked, exasperation evident in her voice, her eyes on Jeff, though frequently going back to the healer.

"It was probably more luck than anything else. There was a whole line of them in a room. When I walked by, this one just seemed... to reach out to me. The techs had been trying to determine what they did, without any success, just like you. I just sat with it all afternoon. I could feel it, I guess as it scanned my body. I noticed that a cut on my arm that I had gotten on the mission where we got the healers, or some of them, was completely healed by late afternoon. The cut was a day old with eight stitches that morning. Now it was completely healed. After that, we started experimenting. They work for some people, others they just ignore. Well, more correctly, they ignore most people, and work for a few."

"Now that's about all I'm going to say about the healer, and I'm not going to talk about anything else you said, Frank. We need to think about how to ease things between you and my wives."

"All I did was look at your shoulder and ask about the healer..."

Jeff waved him to silence. "I told Dave and Evie that the healer was a secret, and to stress the importance of keeping it secret, I told them that I would be shot if the secret got out. Which is true. Later, when I woke up for a little while, I told the women."

"But damn, Jeff. She had her hand on a gun, and even the girls..."

Jeff sighed. "Things have changed since we moved out here." Boy, is that an understatement,  he thought. "They stayed with me all day yesterday — I mean stayed with me. They've never acted this way before. And, yeah, I know that was an overreaction, but she was right. The general has already threatened me."

"That's bullshit. This is the twenty-first century. He can't do that."

Jeff just looked at him. "Frank, you had better wake up. If you think this entire thing just falls under your usual government secrecy agreement you always sign when working for them, then you're mistaken. If you run your mouth about this, or the other things you spouted about, then I can guarantee that you will have an unfortunate accident, or even more probable, you will leave a wandering note of regret and commit suicide. Poor man, he was delusional. But dead."

Margaret spoke up, "They scared the shit out of me when we were first given that... healer to investigate. I agree with Jeff, Frank. We signed the same agreement, but these people were intense."

The door opened and Doctor Boswell walked in. Stopping about halfway across the room, she said, "Jeff, your wives and I have had a meeting, and I have been chosen to talk with Margaret and Mr. Wainwright. Is that all right with you?"

"What about? Not about the healer."

She looked at Wainwright, then back at Jeff. "Tensions are high right now, and I think it would be best if we sit down and talk about what happened earlier. Please, Jeff."

"Okay," Jeff said, bringing the recliner forward, and starting to get up, "I'll..."

"No," everybody said almost in unison.

Doctor Boswell had quickly come over when he had tried to get out of the chair. "Lean back, and relax. Evie and Dave are back, they can come stay with you while we go over to the kitchen where everyone else is."

Jeff sighed. "Okay, send them over; I need to talk to them anyway.

Instead of leading them back to the kitchen where she had said everyone else was, Boswell guided them to one of the smaller conference rooms. As they were seating themselves around the table, Melissa and Jennie came in pushing a serving cart. They set out ice, soft drinks, glasses, a platter of sweet rolls, cups and a carafe of coffee. Wainwright tried to engage them in conversation, but they just glared at him and left.

When the door closed behind them, Wainwright turned to Doctor Boswell. "All of this isn't necessary. It was just a misunderstanding..."

"Hush, Frank," Margaret almost hissed at him. "There's obviously something going on that we don't know about." Turning to Doctor Boswell, she continued, "I hope you'll forgive him. He's an excellent administrator; he gets the job done, and does a surprisingly good job of making us tons of money, considering the handicap he's working with. And he's a fairly good lover, as well," she grinned.

Boswell's lips quivered as she fought a smile, then she just gave up and laughed.

"What handicap? And what do you mean 'fairly good lover?'"

The women just looked at each other and grinned some more.

"What handicap?" Wainwright insisted.

"You're a man, Dear," Margaret answered, sweetly.

Doctor Boswell stood up and poured coffee for everyone, then pushed the sweetener and creamer in their direction.

The door swung open and Diana walked in with a folder in her hand. Laying it in front of Wainwright, she said, "Before you go any further, I want you two to read this. Just read the first page and glance through the rest. It's a resume Doctor Boswell gave us when she applied for the teaching position. I want you to know who you are talking to; she tends to be far too modest." Diana squeezed Helen's shoulder and walked out.

Wainwright quickly read the page listing her qualification and schooling, handed it to Margaret, then looked through the rest.

As Margaret was finishing, Wainwright fixed his coffee and looked over at Doctor Boswell. "Doctor..."

"Helen," she interrupted.

"I, uh, Helen. We have almost three hundred scientists, engineers, technicians, and so forth, working for us, but I will admit that although several of them have double doctorates, none have an educational background that equals yours. But I fail to see why your background is pertinent to what just went on in the other room."

Boswell took a sip of coffee, collecting her thoughts, deliberately making Wainwright wait. "Diana gave you my credentials in order that you might receive what I'm about to tell you with, possibly, a little more credibility — not see me as just a worn out schoolteacher who has seen something she doesn't understand, and has gone off on a tangent."

"That's all well and good," Wainwright said, exasperated, "but I don't understand what's so mysterious. Jeff and I just had a misunderstanding. It doesn't concern you, or anyone else, but Jeff and me. Now let's just end this. I need to discuss some things with Jeff. I'm not so sure that thing on his shoulder is really some kind of healer. We were never able to find out anything about it. It seems to me that we need to get him to a hospital and get some proper care for him." he finished, his voice raised.

Boswell had tried to say something several times, but he had just talked over her. "Will you just shut up for once, and let me talk?" she said, her own voice louder than she had intended, her temper teetering on the edge.

Before she could say anything else, the door flew open and Diana and Laura stood glaring into the room.

Margaret reached over and grabbed Wainwright's hand. "Frank, it's time to shut up," she quietly said into the stillness.

Boswell glanced toward the doorway and smiled. "I'm sorry, I just lost my temper for a moment. Everything is fine." Without saying anything, the women stared, then left, closing the door behind them.

"If they've got their ears pressed to the door, listening anyway, why don't they just come on in? I don't see..."

"They weren't listening..."

"They had to have been," Wainwright said, grinning. "I built this place. They couldn't have possibly heard us unless they were."

Boswell sat back in her chair, forcing herself calm. After taking a deep breath, then sipping the hot coffee, she looked at Wainwright, contemplatively. Glancing at Margaret, she asked, "Do you suppose that if I poured this coffee in his lap, I could get his attention, and maybe even shut his mouth long enough for me to explain things and possibly — no probably — save him a lot of problems?"

While Wainwright's face turned red, Margaret said, "I doubt it. He's in one of his 'take charge' moods. But it's worth a try. You certainly have my permission. Of course, they," she nodded at the door, "may come in and shoot him if you do," she finished, not sure she was entirely joking.

"Not over me just being angry, but they will fight if they think Jeff is threatened, especially right now."

"Oh, come on," Wainwright said, putting his forearms on the table, sliding the creamer back and forth, still talking down to her. "What's all the mystery? And about them coming in here, they were monitoring us on the intercom, if they weren't pressing their ears to the door."

"The intercom isn't on. They're not monitoring us. They just knew that I was becoming upset." Deliberately, she used the term, she didn't like. "Ever since our Alpha Male was hurt, certain of our senses have been heightened. I did not realize that they would notice my emotions until they opened that door. But that is all it could possibly be."

"Alpha Male. You're referring to a wolf pack now. An Alpha Male is a wolf that's already killed, or otherwise overcome every other male in the pack to achieve dominance. Doctor, your implication is absurd."

Boswell's face flushed. "A few weeks ago, I would have agreed with you. But for the last time, will you please hush until I finish speaking? Just give me fifteen minutes, without interruption of any kind. Then I will let you talk."

"As soon as I call 911 and get an ambulance out here, and Jeff on the way to a hospital, you can talk all you want, Doctor." Wainwright smiled, but the smile was condescending.

Boswell stood up and leaned on the table, her face only a couple of feet from Wainwright. In a quiet voice, each word enunciated very clearly, she said, "If you call, they will discover the healer on his shoulder, the secret will be out, and Jeff's life will be forfeit. With that in mind, listen carefully to what I have to say. Should you reach for that phone, I will do my best, my absolute best,  to stop you. The other women will know, instantly. Laura or Diana will come in and... do something drastic."

Boswell continued to glare at him as the door opened and the women filed in. Helen glanced up, met Diana's eye, and said, "He's so pig-headed, he won't let me explain anything. I know he isn't stupid. He's simply fixated on getting Jeff to a hospital. Every time I attempt to speak, he interrupts me and tries to dominate the conversation."

"I know where the duct tape is," Arlene piped up. "Tape his mouth shut."

Wainwright barked out a laugh, blustering, but now — worried.

"Get it," Diana said in a monotone, her jaw muscles tensed, accentuating her high cheekbones.

Arlene took off out of the room.

"Now, wait a minute. This has gone on long enough," Wainwright admonished, starting to stand, "This is ridiculous."

Doctor Boswell shoved against his shoulder just as his rear cleared the seat, catching him off balance, and causing him to sit back down, hard. By now, Margaret's face had lost all its color. "Frank," she said, her voice breaking, "just, please, sit there and shut up. It isn't your place to decide that Jeff has to go to a hospital. That wound is ghastly, but they say he is fine, and he says he fine. Just please shut up before something bad happens."

Arlene came running back in with a roll of duct tape, grinning from ear to ear.

Doctor Boswell still stood with her hands propped on the table, staring at Wainwright. "Which will it be? Fifteen minutes for me to talk, and you to remain totally silent? Or we tape you to the chair and tape your mouth shut? If that doesn't work, we'll leave you with Laura, and sort it out later. Which one?"

Wainwright opened his mouth to protest when Arlene pulled the tape, making its distinctive sound as it ripped off the roll. He shut his mouth. Suddenly, all the women, except Margaret turned their heads as one, looking at the door. There was a frantic traffic jam at the door as they all tried to go through it at once.

After a couple of minutes, Wainright got up and was almost to the door, when he met Diana coming in supporting Jeff on one side, with Dave supporting the other. Jeff's face was gray as they seated him in a chair at the table, all of them, even Evie, fussing over him to get him comfortable with something to drink.

A moment later, coke in hand, he tried to take a drink, but his hand was shaking so badly that Diana had to help him. Looking at Doctor Boswell, he said, "When the healer woke me, I knew you were upset. I thought I could jog down here, but I didn't quite make it," he sighed.

After managing to take another longer drink of cold coke, by himself this time, he looked back at Wainwright. "Damnit, Frank, sit down."

Wainwright looked a bit stunned, but complied. "I know," Jeff said, louder than he meant, then continued, quieter, "that you came here suspecting that something was wrong, then found out that I had a wound on my shoulder. And I realize that you dictate to a lot of people all the time, and I realize that you have my best interests at heart, but, this time you're wrong."

Margaret reached over and grasped Wainwright's hand, then turned back to Jeff. "He was almost frantic on the way on the plane. He was worried to death that something awful had happened to you, and that for some reason it was being covered up. Sometimes I could wring his neck when he decides to do something, and won't let go of it. But the trait that has done so much for our company, has not been, shall we say, of any great use here today. Since we spent a month trying to get that thing to work, without any success, it's hard for me, also, to believe that it's going to heal your shoulder. So, to a large degree, I can understand his concerns."

Jeff sighed. "I appreciate that — both of you. Heck, I guess I'm even flattered, but you, Frank, have gone charging ahead without all of the facts. And worse, you're refusing to hear the facts." Jeff just sat for a moment, then grinned. "Arlene mentioned that we're to the duct tape stage now, to get you to shut up long enough..."

"Jeff, I promise, I'll sit here and listen..."

"... to hear Doctor Boswell out." Jeff finished struggling to lean forward in the chair, placing his good arm on the table, staring at Wainwright. "Frank, if you open your mouth once from this moment, until Doctor Boswell tells you that you can talk..."

When Wainwright looked like he was going to speak, Jeff wagged his finger at him, and continued "... I will sell the patents to my next invention to someone else. And my next invention will make the money you're going to make on my current patents look like chump change in comparison. One word before she says you can talk, and so help me Frank, I promise, I will sell it to anyone but you."

Jeff looked at Doctor Boswell and grinned. "Fire away, Doc."

Boswell had underestimated; it took forty minutes for her to explain everything she had seen while she had been with the family. She had Diana tell about realizing, years ago, that she could always tell where Jeff was, if she concentrated — how Arlene had picked up the ability as a child. Then how the girls and Laura began to be able to do this also after living together for a while; told about her (Doctor Boswell's) heart attack; told about Diana and Arlene waking up screaming, then frantically leaving to find Jeff. How she, (Boswell) had awaken with that terrible feeling; how she was hurriedly putting on her clothes when Laura announced that Jeff had been hurt, before Diana left with the Escalades tires screaming. She had Dave describe how he had watched the blood flow slacken and cease after the healer was put on Jeff's shoulder. How he had seen the hair-fine tendrils going into the wound; how they had eventually pushed his fingers away, but still held on, as if testing that the repair to the artery would hold.

Then Jeff described how he had put the healer on a sleeping Diana when her ankle had been broken so badly two years ago, and how he and the healer were gradually learning to communicate.

Each of the girls had said that they could always tell where Jeff was, and told how they could not leave him when he was unconscious from the injury. Finally, the pastries, coffee and drinks were gone, and everyone had spoken. Wainwright had not uttered a sound until Doctor Boswell told him he could speak.

Instead of immediately saying something, he just sat for awhile, then standing, he asked, his voice cracking, "Could I be excused for a moment, please?" With Jeff's nod, Wainwright hurried out the door.

Margaret came around the table and hugged Boswell. "Thank you. Frank is hardheaded, but he understands money. Jeff hit him where it hurts," she laughed. "He's embarrassed now, but he believes you, and I do, too. He's really a very nice guy. He just got carried away with his worry for Jeff. Now, I need to go and salvage his ego." She kissed Jeff on the cheek, then hurried after Wainwright.

Everyone sat around talking, the wives pampering Jeff, until Laura, who had slipped out unnoticed, rolled the wheelchair into the room. Jeff didn't even argue, just got in. When they reached the living room, Jeff protested when they didn't turn in. "Just hush, Husband. You're going to a real bed, where you should have been all day. Twelve hours of sleep will — what's the expression? — do you a world of good."

He was still arguing with her as they turned the corner heading for their suite.



-------

Chapter 15

Early risers, Wainwright and Margaret decided to go to the kitchen and fix themselves breakfast before everyone else got up, reasoning that even Jeff would still be in bed because of the injury. Instead, they opened the door to a moil of activity. There was laughter, giggles, the clattering of cooking utensils, etc. — and heavenly smells.

Diana yelled out from the other end of the kitchen, "Come on in sleepy heads. Get some coffee. The breakfast bar will be ready in five minutes. We were just about to give you guys a call."

Wainwright and Margaret walked on into the room as Laura separated herself from the group and approached them. She stopped for an instant, just short of Wainwright, then took the last step and flung herself into a full body hug.

As Wainwright's arms closed around her, "I'm sorry," she said, her face buried in his shoulder. "When I felt that Jeff was threatened, I just lost it. I won't say I'm sorry I tried to protect him. But I am sorry things got that bad. I respected you at your company, and you were good to us. I don't want to mess things up between you and Jeff. Please, let's try to start this thing over again," she finished, looked up into his face, tears about to spill from her eyes.

Into the total quiet that had descended on the busy kitchen, Wainwright said, "Nothing to forgive. I acted like a fool. I was worried about Jeff, and let my imagination take control. When I saw his wound, I guess I lost all reason. I'm sorry, Laura. You have nothing to be ashamed of — I do. Please, if you can, forgive me."

Wainwright looked over Laura's head at Helen. "Doctor Boswell, I humbly apologize. As I did with Laura, I acted like a fool. The only thing I'll say in my defense is that I was worried about Jeff. But that's no excuse for the way I acted.

"And to Diana, I came into you home and tried to take over. Again I was a fool.

"And to everyone else, the same, "I humbly apologize for my actions."

Every woman in the place took their turn hugging both Wainwright and Margaret. Then the bustle in the kitchen started up again.

A little later Wainwright said, "Diana, we didn't mean to impose on you people this morning. We were going to sneak in, maybe fix a bite to eat, and head out as soon as the limo company opened and we could get someone to come pick us up."

Diana piled scrambled eggs into a serving pan in the warmer, wiped her hands on a towel, and laughed at him. "Now why would you think two more people would be any kind of imposition when we're already cooking for ten? Besides, this is the first time that we've really had a chance to use the steamer for a breakfast bar. And with all the cooks we have here, fixing breakfast is trivial. My husband and daughter will be here in a minute. She's helping him with a modified shower this morning."

Seeing the look on Wainwright's face, she responded, "Yes, Frank, she's one of the wives, too. A couple of months ago, I would have been appalled; now I'm not even going to try to defend it. Just look at her when she comes in with him, and then tell me there's something wrong with it."

Wainwright grinned at her as he pulled his chair out to sit down. "Now, who's jumping to conclusions? It's hard to argue with seven — overused, but the expression still fits — drop-dead gorgeous women for wives."

"Six," Doctor Boswell said, putting a stack of plates on the breakfast bar, "I'm too old. Even though I, like his wives, have somehow learned to know where he is all the time. But I'm flattered at the description, even though you didn't really mean it to apply to me."

"Oh, yes I did," Wainwright quickly replied. "And yes, you are a little older than the others, but I meant for the description to include you, but I apologize for including you as one of his wives. I just thought..."

"She's one of us," Diana said. "It's just not official yet. And for some reason, she can't seem to believe she's gorgeous."

"Diana," Boswell said, dragging out the word. "I'm not. And I'm way too old to be one of his wives, and you know it."

Diana just grinned at her and went on with breakfast preparations, thinking, Just wait until he shoves that wonderful cock up you until you think your womb is going to come out your throat, then tell me you're too old.

Turning back to Wainwright, a couple of moments later, she continued aloud. "I hope you haven't called for the jet yet, because if you have, you need to cancel it. You two aren't going to leave here like a couple of whipped pups. We had a little disagreement — well actually — a big disagreement, but all of us, including you two, were trying to help Jeff. You overreacted. We overreacted. You have apologized, and we have apologized. It's over.

"We're going to eat breakfast, show you the work we've done on the lab, and show you our bedroom suite, now that you know the gory details of our family life. Doctor Boswell can show you the sketches of her classrooms and tell you what she has planned for the girls — and actually for Laura and me, as well. Later today we'll show you our firing range, and tell you about some other trouble that we're trying to avoid.

"But right now, sit, eat, and forget about any diets you may be on. Let's get better acquainted. Jeff sat us down this morning and had a talk with us. He says you two are class. And Jeff never makes mistakes about things like that. He trusts you. And you have been good to him and to us. Jeff thinks you are super people, and we want to know you better. Besides, I want to ask you about some problems I'm having with the conference center."

Both Wainwright and Margaret looked like a load of worry had been lifted off their shoulders by Diana's little speech.

Ten minutes later, they were all, including Jeff, seated at the table after having helped themselves to the breakfast bar. Wainwright, the last to sit down, noticed that no one was eating. Wondering, he picked up his fork as Jeff, his wives, and Doctor Boswell suddenly bowed their heads, a second later, followed by Dave and Evie, then belatedly followed by Margaret and Wainwright. Arlene gave thanks for the food and for the recovery of her father and husband. The whole prayer took no more than ten seconds, but it was so sincere that Wainwright felt the sting of tears in his eyes.

Jeff's left arm was still covered with a towel, albeit a much smaller one, showing the hump of the healer clearly visible on his upper arm. Noticing that Dave and Evie, as well as Frank and Margaret, were furtively glancing toward his arm, yet would not ask, he chuckled and said, " I guess you can tell by the pile of food on my plate that I'm much better. She flushed out the synthesized blood, and brought my own blood volume back up during the night. "If my wives are a little grouchy today," he joked, "it's because I woke them up getting out of bed about ten times. That liquid had to go somewhere during the night." With his right hand, he lifted his left arm up enough for everyone to see, then slowly wiggled his fingers... 

"They work again," he grinned, then grimaced. "But much movement, tends to light up my life." After rearranging the sling and repositioning his forearm, he continued, "She's finished the nerve trunk, and if I understand her, she's about half-way through with regenerating the missing muscle tissue. I think..."

Margaret interrupted with, "Am I to understand that you literally mean that the healer itself is generating the tissue. Surely you meant that she is helping your body to regenerate the lost muscle tissue?"

Jeff finished the bite of steak, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, "She does, dramatically speed up my body's regenerative abilities, but I didn't misspeak. She is generating muscle tissue, just as she did the nerve tissue, and the synthetic blood."

Margaret hesitated a second, put her coffee down, and turned a questioning look at Jeff. "But that's..."

"Direct conversion of energy into matter. Is that what you mean?"

"That's exactly what I mean. It's just not possible, at least with our tech..."

"Exactly, but this isn't our technology. She's alien. We have only just begun to communicate. Sometimes I can say something to her, and she seems to easily understand, other times, well... It's the same way, or maybe worse, when she tries to talk to me. At times, the concepts are clear, other times, I know my mind is mistranslating.

"It's like something I read about in anthropology class at school. Years ago a anthropologist discovered that some aborigines were unable to see straight lines, or ninety degree angles, say, like the corner of this room, because their environment had no straight lines, or ninety degree corners. Their minds kept trying to process the information their eyes were receiving into something else, something familiar to them.

"She doesn't usually communicate with words. It isn't just a matter of learning another language. She transmits, I assume, concepts. At least that's what it seems like to me, pictures and occasionally feelings. Sometimes, it's clear as a bell what she means, other times, it's almost like you had somehow cut a number of pictures into small pieces, then put them into one large picture, totally jumbled. But instead of just pictures, I'm talking about concepts, as well. I think she's learning to convert her thoughts into pictures more frequently, and occasionally I hear words, mostly broken, but sometimes intelligible.

"She seems to be able to communicate with me much better when I'm asleep, or nearly so. Sometimes, it's like a memory suddenly surfacing. My mind, of course, keeps trying to put her concepts into words, and when I'm trying to communicate with her, I need to use concepts, not words. When I'm in that state — I'll just continue to call it sleep — where she puts me when she's doing serious work on my arm, I can almost carry on a conversation with her. Then I suddenly get hit with the most ridiculous thoughts, along with her frustration. We're different mentally — really different."

The conversation stalled as Arlene and Ann went around the table refreshing everyone's coffee. Wainwright, realizing that Jeff had become uncomfortable with discussing the healer, cleared his throat, "Uh, Jeff, what about your new lab?"

Jeff grinned at him because of the abrupt change, and Wainwright grinned back, "Well, what about your lab? How much have you gotten done on it?" he persisted, obviously determined to redirect the conversation away from the healer, after realizing that Jeff didn't want to talk about it any more.

Diana buttered another piece of toast, then added Jeff's favorite jelly. As she handed the toast to her husband, he said, "Nothing much. Just two big rooms and a couple of offices. We moved the equipment I had in Georgia into one of the rooms, but I didn't have a lot, so there's mostly just empty space. Laura and I have got to sit down and do some ordering soon. With the threats, and everything else that's been going on, we haven't had much chance so far."

Wainwright and Margaret looked at each other. The edited story about Hagewood took the rest of the mealtime.

"But, why not hire an off-duty cop, 24/7?" Wainwright asked, a little later, refusing more coffee from Ann.

"Okay," Jeff answered. "And how long would you expect it would take him to figure out what was going on with my women? I think we're legal with what we're doing, except for Arlene, and without a complaint, nothing is going to happen. But with a police officer in the house, everyone is going to be stressed, probably, including the cop. If we put him in a guard shack down at the entrance to the driveway, then he's going to be down there by himself. He would be in a very, very vulnerable situation. I don't want to see a cop get killed because of us. I respect the police and what they do, far too much to leave one hanging out like that."

"Wainwright thought for a moment, then asked, "Isn't that stack of boxes in the corner of the living room the security equipment that I sent you?"

"Yeah. Things have been a little too hectic for me to have time to install it. Then with the bear..."

"I'll send a team down. Even with the distance to the end of your drive, they should be able to install the cameras, motion detectors, and all the rest of it in two or three days. Where do you want the monitors?" Looking at the monitors mounted above the kitchen cabinets, on the back wall, he continued, "What about alongside the existing ones. There's plenty of room. We can also mount one in the living room and you suite, plus you lab, and anywhere else you think of. Of course you can still use you televisions as well, by just changing to whichever channel you decide on for the security system. "

"Yeah, that's where we had decided to put them," Jeff said nodding to the monitors above the cabinets. And the other places sound fine, as well. But Dave and I can install everything. There's no need..."

"Let me do something. You wouldn't let me get you to a hospital," he teased. "You're still not in any shape to be trudging up and down that driveway, pulling wire and setting up cameras and relays. Come on Jeff, I owe you."

"Frank, you don't owe me a thing." When Jeff glanced up at Diana, she stared at him, then let her eyes drift to Wainwright.

Getting the message, Jeff sighed, "Frank, on second thought, I would appreciate it. Hell, your crew will probably do a better job, anyway," he lied. "But please tell them that we have a shooting range up here, and to not panic when they hear gunfire. Tomorrow, if not this afternoon, we're going to continue our handgun training."

Wainwright smiled at him, having seen the exchange. "Great," he said, getting up. He quickly picked up the portable phone and went through the kitchen door, dialing.

"Thanks Jeff, for letting him do this. He's still uptight about what happened. Your allowing him to help you will make him feel a lot better," Margaret said.

Margaret moved her empty cup back and forth between her fingertips. "He didn't just send you what you ordered. There is literally cutting edge technology in those boxes. Some of it is so new, that we haven't even started selling it to the military yet. He also sent enough to replace all your current security cameras and monitors. When you tore up that check, he felt like he was cheating you. You have no idea how much stress there was around that lab before you and Laura got there and fixed the decimal problem. They had been going at each other for a week, and essentially given up, just running the same test over and over, and yelling at each other. Your prototype just sat there, doing exactly what it was supposed to do. But theirs wouldn't do a thing.

"Frank thought you were pissed, regardless of what you said there in the office. The recount of your having words with Miller just added fuel to the flame. He was very impressed with Laura. Of course, he was impressed with her in a little different manner when she thought his actions were threatening Jeff," she said, sardonically, grinning at Laura.

"Frank sent everything but the kitchen sink, when you called him about your problem. He had a lot of people stepping and fetching, as he loves to say. And they had a long meeting discussing the technology to give you the absolute best system they could come up with. Have you read the paperwork he sent with the system?"

Jeff shook his head. "I haven't had time."

"The system is virtually impossible to jam. It uses three different means to transmit the signals from the cameras and detectors to the base here in the house."

"I saw the fake rocks with the camera's inside them. They're realistic as can be and look just like the rocks and boulders alongside the driveway."

"Frank has been expecting you to call when your read the specs for the system, so I won't spoil it for him. Let him tell you what it will do. I'll just say that it's a very intelligent system, beyond anything we've ever designed before. Maybe this will even up things a little, both monetarily, and perhaps, for the other incident, as well."

"'Even up?' he didn't even send a bill with the stuff. At least, not that I've found yet, and I opened everything except the monitors. And he sent a computer that even Laura is impressed with."

Margaret just smiled at him.

-------

Later, the women chased each other on four wheelers around the back of the cleared area, before the property started to climb steeply on up the mountain. Frank and Jeff shared a golf cart riding at a much more sedate pace toward the partially completed range. Cringing, Jeff came to a halt as the women dashed into the area where the trees began, that was more than a quarter of a mile away.

Wainwright grinned at the women's antics. "And you're building this outside handgun range to use until your inside range is installed?" he said, stretching out his legs.

"Yeah," Jeff managed, preoccupied as two of the four wheelers came flying out of the woods, hit a small hump, and were temporarily airborne, then turned and headed back for the woods, one right on the tail of the other, mud spraying high in the air behind them. Jeff seemed to tear his eyes away, to answer Wainwright's question. "Yeah, it will be used temporarily, in good weather. But the inside range will only be twenty-five yards, while this is fifty. Plus, I can put up an obstacle course out here. Teach the women to shoot while being stressed a little.

"I can make a 'tunnel' out of cardboard, that they have to crawl through, shoot at a target, then run to another spot, go prone, and shoot over a low object. Lot of things like that. Good guy, bad guy targets. I've got some that are life-size, in full color — very realistic. They're just blown up pictures of people, printed on target paper. Guy dressed like a priest, but pointing a gun at you, woman with a baby, guy pointing a cell phone, hostage, oh, a bunch of things.

"When we get the turning apparatus installed, the targets will pop around to face the shooter, who has to make a decision, then shoot on target, if it's necessary to shoot, then run to the next obstacle. Between the physical exertion, the strain of trying to get a good score, plus your peers watching, and trying to outdo you, it's stressful. All the time, the clock is running. You compete against each other. Every hit on a good guy is minus ten points. It's fun, and a hell of a lot harder than it sounds. It gives you a very small sample of what a cop must experience in a gunfight. Except, targets don't shoot back. Even so, you quickly get a different outlook about what a cop has to go through.

"That magazine that was so easy to change in the classroom, suddenly won't go into the pistol, because you're trying to insert it backward when the adrenalin punch hits you. When you're through shooting, with a great time, then you look at your targets and realize that you have shot worse than you ever have in your life. Then it dawns on you. You forgot to even line the sights up. You didn't focus on the front sight; you just stared through the sights at the target, and yanked the trigger as fast as you could. While staring through the sights at a very close target might work with the proper trigger pull, it certainly won't work for anything else. After your depressingly low score, you start over and learn how to shoot under stress, pumped full of go juice.

"But first, I've got to train them to shoot a lot better, except Diana, of course. She's already had a lot of training, but she's never shot an obstacle course. She's going to be pissed when she sees her first score," he laughed.

They had turned around and had started back toward the house when Arlene and Jennie came roaring up. When they stopped, Arlene said, "Dad, we want to shoot. It's dry enough over where the targets are." Before Jeff could answer, she pressed on, "Mom can be instructor today. You can just be the rangemaster, and watch her work. She doesn't need this, anyway. She can do this baby stuff in her sleep. Please, Dad!"

Jeff thought for a second, then grinned. "Go tell your mom. I think it's a great idea."

He didn't get a chance to say anything else. Arlene circled them, Jennie hanging on, then gunned the motor, sending twin rooster tails of mud from the spinning back tires as she launched the ATV to find her mother, who was still on the back side of the property.

Jeff grinned at Wainwright as they continued toward the house. "The best way I know of to really learn something, is to teach it. Diana is good enough to start teaching. She'll probably learn as much as the girls do today. And I'll bet there will be some women with some tired arms when they're through."

"It can't be that..."

"It isn't, but the pushups darn sure are. And she won't have any mercy at all. They can't cut her off when they get pissed," Jeff chuckled.

"And you make them do pushups for..."

"When they fuck up. I passed up a lot of times, too. I'll have to caution Diana. They're still too new at this. If she gives pushups every time they lose concentration, or forget to double-check their weapon, and such, she'll have them so tired that they won't be able to shoot," he laughed.

A couple of hundred feet farther on, Jeff stopped and almost cringed as four, four-wheelers roared past. Margaret, driving a lot slower, pulled up beside Jeff. "I think they're anxious to get started," she laughed, pulling her helmet off and wiping mud from her face shield. Glancing over her shoulder, she continued, "That hillside is one big adrenaline rush. And your wives are a lot better on these things than I am."

Jeff sighed, "Yeah, I know. They scare the crap out of me, but I keep telling myself that they're all wearing helmets, and I have the healer. Still it doesn't do much good," he laughed, as Wainwright and Margaret chuckled at his discomfiture. Jeff sighed again, this time inwardly, as he realized that the women weren't going to take time to hose off the four-wheelers. That mud is going to be a bitch to get off when it dries.

Wainwright, Margaret, and Jeff sat chatting while the women disappeared into the house. In short order, they filed back out, wearing their equipment, and carrying shooting trays, with Laura and Melissa carrying a cooler between them. They stopped at the garage to get ammo and targets, under Diana's direction. Jeff had moved far enough away that he wouldn't be asked anything, making it obvious that Diana was in charge.

Jeff and Wainwright buzzed along behind the women, as they trudged to the range. Margaret eased along beside the golf cart, on her four-wheeler. When they stopped, well back from the makeshift range, Jeff turned to Margaret. "If either of you want to shoot, we have plenty of pistols and ammo."

Margaret shut off her idling motor, and turned to Jeff. "I don't want to today. The only thing I've shot is a rifle." Glancing at Frank, she continued, "But I think we'll take you up on it when we come back. I'd rather just watch now. How about you Frank?"

"Yes. That sounds fine. I haven't shot a handgun in years. Those women look like they know what they're doing. I would just slow things down. But it sounds like fun."

"We can come out first thing in the morning," Jeff said. "I can get you up to speed, so you can shoot with the women."

Wainwright sighed. "You don't know how tempting that is, but I've got to get back. We have a lot of things going on."

Jeff winked at Margaret, then turned to Wainwright. "Frank, you've already told me that you don't have any kids. Even if you did gold plate your Mercedes, you still couldn't spend all the money you have. What are you going to do? Leave the money to a bunch of distant relatives to fight over when you die?"

"Gold plate a Mercedes?"

"Oh, I'm always saying that we're not into yachts, drugs, or gold plated Mercedes."

"But, shit, Jeff. We have twenty different projects going. I've got..."

"Let Tingle handle it. He seems like he's sharp as a tack. Spend a while with us. Hell, spend a week or two with us. Learn to shoot. We still haven't had our talk about an architect, or my fortress project."

"Fortress?" Wainwright and Margaret said, almost in unison.

"Beside," Wainwright said, "We only brought one change of clothes with us. Just some sports clothes, we didn't even bring any jeans with us," he finished, motioning to his slacks, which looked more like suit pants than anything else.

Margaret sat chuckling as Wainwright stammered.

"We'll run down to Winter Park first thing tomorrow morning. They'll be glad to sell you jeans, and all the rest. It's not as if you can't afford it. Hell, the ride up here in the limo would probably pay for a week's worth of jeans and tee-shirts, and have a lot left over. Now that's settled, let's watch Diana and the others. I'll talk you through what they're doing, so it will be easier for you to learn the routines when you come out here tomorrow."

Margaret had given up hiding her laughter. Wainwright glared at her, and she just laughed harder.

"Ready on the right! Ready on the left! Ready on the firing line! Fire!" Diana called out as loud as she could. There was a less than resounding bunch of... clicks.

Wainwright, expecting a volley of sound, almost flinched at the barely-heard clicks. "Ball and dummy," Jeff answered as a single round fired, then a little later, another.

"Oh," Wainwright said, as if he knew what Jeff was talking about.

Jeff just grinned; this was going to be fun.

-------

Jeff and Wainwright sat at a game table next to the window in the living room. The golden glow of sunset intensified the already-changing colors of the trees near the retreat, but the men paid scant notice. Wainwright poured over the rough sketch of the fortress. "I've been doing some research on the net. This may all change before the plans are finalized," Jeff said, sitting back and sipping a Coke.

Wainwright sat back as well, unconsciously tapping the top of a pen on his front teeth. "I don't suppose you have any idea what's under the ground here?"

"I guess we could find out — ground penetrating radar. I've heard something about some type of sonar for that, as well. I'm really not up on that technology. Of course there's the old way with core drilling. But, rock or not, we're going to build this. If it's rock, then it will just take longer, and it might even be to our advantage strength wise."

"Ten million," Wainwright said, "and that's probably low. We could be sitting on a granite shelf, no telling how thick." Taking a sip of his cold coffee, he frowned. "Maybe as much as twenty million. I don't know an architect in this field, but I know someone who does. And we're going to need a mining engineer, and a lot of specialized equipment. There's a new borer that would be ideal for this, but I don't know whether it's electric or powered by a diesel or some type of gas engine. If it's electric, we probably won't have enough electrical power out here to run it. They probably have a substation near the mines they use these things in, and special lines run to them. We'll have to do some research.

"We're going to need to get the equipment flown in, like I did when I built the conference center. I can call in some favors when we get ready for the heavy stuff. They'll bitch, but they'll be here when we need them. Of course, it's going to cost out the yingyang."

Jeff raised an eyebrow at the use of the "we."

"Yeah, I know. I want to be in on this — if you will let me. No use you using up your capital. I can front the money for you. You never want to use your capital."

"Frank, I've got more money than I'll ever use, not to say anything about the royalties that will eventually be coming. I'm not worried about using part of my capital..."

"My mom and dad had a little more than a hundred million when they were killed, and over a period of years, they had put my name on everything they owned, every bank account, everything. Oh, they made me work my ass off, even made me take part-time jobs on the weekends when I was in highschool. I worked summers with a construction crew. It instilled a work ethic that a lot of the younger generation hasn't got. I drove a piece of shit car to high school, that I had bought with the money I had earned — at least the part that they let me keep. They made me invest the most of it, and not just in companies that they had selected. They made me do the research, and tell them why I had chosen the particular stock I wanted to purchase.

"When we sat down to dinner, Dad would ask, 'How was your day, Son?' and he didn't expect some brush off. I gave him an account of my day, then he told me about his. My mom would do the same. I could talk about anything with my parents, especially my dad. Oh, I could talk to Mom, but a teenage boy, full of hormones, well; I did cull a few things when I talked to her. But not many.

"Mom gave me insight into girls, and Dad made sure I had the latest Playboy. Dad had a lot of rules, but they all made sense. One rule was that if I took a girl's cherry, I would be expected to marry her. He said I could fuck around as much as I wanted, as long as I kept up a straight 'A' average, was careful about the sex, and the girl knew up front that it was just sex. But if I went after a girl's cherry, well, that was a gift she should reserve for someone she loved. Never mind that a lot of girls didn't. He said I had to have a higher standard.

"I swear he and Mom had my childhood mapped out for me. I was to learn this, do that, etc. He was very strong on logic — lived it, didn't just talk about it, and Mom was the same way. But don't get me wrong, there was a lot of love in our home, but they were teachers. They taught me daily. Mom taught me to cook, how to correctly wash clothes, to iron, to clean a house — and she gave tests. She even told me, in detail, how to please a woman, from a woman's perspective. When I came back from dates, if they were still up, I would tell them about the date — everything. If I had sex, I described it, and the results of things they told me to try. Sound weird, or gross, but they were teaching me to be a man — a caring man, who would work to please his partner.

"Then when I was twenty-five, they got on a plane to go to a conference, and the fucking thing crashed on takeoff. Even that made me money — Dad always bought insurance. I was born with that proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, but what those two wonderful people taught me was worth far more. And... I miss them still today. They were the most wonderful parents I could ever conceive of. Then some dipshit failed to do his job, and they were splattered all over the countryside.

"I've got the money, Jeff. And if you'll let me be a part of this, I would be very grateful. We'll write up a contract any way you want it. I'll own nothing. I just want to be a part of this. You can pay me back out of your royalties as they come in. You don't pay me anything until then. If the shit hits the fan, I want to have a haven for Margaret and me."

"Frank, you know damn well that you could have that without putting a dime into this."

Wainwright shoved back from the table. Let's go get some more coffee. I can't think without a cup of java in my hand," he said, grinning.

"Can't argue with logic like that," Jeff teased, as they started for the kitchen.

-------

Jeff and Wainwright again sat in the living room, recliners pushed back, enjoying life. Frank had called Tingle, and told him he was in charge until further notice. Hanging up the phone, he had turned to Jeff. "Now that's a great way to fuck up someone's Sunday night," he chuckled. Hell, I haven't taken a real vacation in a long time. Even then, they called me at least three times a day. Maybe you're right. It's time to let someone else have the reins for awhile. I told him to delegate his usual work, so he doesn't have a nervous breakdown, and that he could call me if the feces hit the rotator. I guess I'll have to give him a raise after this. I don't want him to quit on me." But there was a gleam in his eye as he plopped down in a recliner and gazed out the window at the yard lights.

Dave and Evie came back from visiting with their parents. Evie went in search of the women, while Dave found a comfortable seat, and joined in the bullshit session, as he called it.

"Frank's going to be around for a week or two. He has some insight into what we'll need, and also said he could get the big chopper to bring in the heavy stuff whenever we needed it."

"Well, that's a load off," he grinned, intending the pun. "What about the architect?"

"Frank knows some people that have been involved in something similar. He's going to contact them for us. We'll go from there. Frank is also going to be involved in the project." Seeing the look on Dave's face, Jeff chuckled. "No worry, Dave. I promise that Frank and I will only be support. I gave you the job as boss — it's going to stay that way. But Frank has connections, and experience that you and I don't have. When you need something that you can't get, Frank will probably be able to get it for you, or at least, share some of that insight with you."

-------

About eight, Diana, Laura and Margaret came in carrying chocolate shakes. Jeff's shake was bigger, but the other two were respectable.

"What's this?" Wainwright asked, suspicious from the smirks.

"Drink up, "Hon," Margaret said, smiling at Frank. Leaning over, she whispered in his ear. "It's got every exotic herb you can think of in it. They had to mail order some of them. You can't even buy them in health food stores."

"Look, Margaret, you know I don't believe in that bullshit about supplements and such."

Margaret leaned closer to his ear and whispered, "Drink the fucking shake, Frank. If it's half as good as Laura and Diana say it is, you're going to have a very, very nice night."

"Oh, all right," he grumped, but started drinking it. After a couple of sips through the straw, he said, "Crap, that's a strong taste. What..."

At the look on Margaret's face, he hushed and drank the shake in earnest as the women left the room, whispering together.

Dave, having already heard about the shakes, just grinned and started in on his. Noticing Jeff's arm, he exclaimed, "All right! When did the sling come off your arm?"

"Actually, just a few minutes ago. The arm is still very weak, but it seems to work like it's supposed to. She said she would finish the last of the cosmetics — I think that's what she meant — later tonight. But she wants me to start using the arm. So far though," he laughed, "a cup is about all the weight I can lift, even then, I shake so badly that I wouldn't dare have coffee in it when I pick the cup up."

Jeff moved the towel out of the way so Frank and Dave could look. The healer had spread herself out, now covering all of the area on Jeff's upper arm where the wound had been. Dave got up and walked around behind Jeff. "The back part of your shoulder seems completely healed. There doesn't even seem to be any scaring. The skin is a light pink though, almost like you would see on a newborn. Boy, you better not get in the sun much with that. You'll cook for sure."

As Dave sat back down in the chair, he continued, "She looks way bigger than she did before. I know she wasn't big enough to cover the entire wound on your upper arm before..."

Wainwright, who had also been inspecting Jeff's shoulder, took back his position in the recliner, picked up his shake and took another long swallow. "She seems to be able to reconfigure herself, at least within certain limits. She isn't as thick, but her cross section is much larger."

Wainwright held the shake up, inspecting to see how much was left. "What's all the hubbub about the shakes, Jeff? The women are running around giggling like they just pulled something over on us. What's this thing supposed to do, make me horny or something?"

Jeff put his shake back on the table, and leaned back for a breather. "Well, the only thing I know for sure is that it's going to kick your ass."

That caused two sets of eyes to lock on his. "What the fuck do you mean, 'kick my ass?' What did they put in this thing, anyway?"

"Oh, nothing to hurt you," Jeff laughed. "But if they do you guys the way they do me, then you're going to be really sleepy in about ten minutes. You better pee before you take your nap, because when you wake up, it won't happen," he mysteriously said.

It took a couple of seconds before Wainwright caught on. "Jeff, I'm sure that might be Dave's problem, but I'm fifty. Piss-hards aren't as hard as they used to be."

Jeff wouldn't say anything else about the shakes, and changed the subject. A little later, they were all finished, and bellies full, they, by default, decided to take a nap.

Later, Jeff woke to see his daughter's face about six inches from his, her eyes sparkling with devilment. "Would Master like to service his slaves tonight?" she asked, trying not to grin, but failing miserably.

Jeff, not wanting Frank to hear, glanced in his direction. But Frank and Margaret were headed for the door with her arm around his waist and his arm around her shoulders. There was a noticeable bulge in the front of Frank's pants that he was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide.

Evie held a hand out to help her husband to his feet. He was looking at her like she was his first drink of water in days while on a desert trek. Dave didn't bother to try and hide his bulge, just grabbed his small wife, threw her over his shoulder, and took off out the door, his laughter accompanied by her squeals as he marched down the hall.

Arlene ran her hand down Jeff's belly onto his groin, grabbing hold of his cock. Squeezing, she said, "I haven't had that monster inside me in a few days. I guess I'll be walking funny in the morning — along with some other people," she finished, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him upright.

Jeff eyed her "fuck me" outfit. She had on a plain white skirt, barely long enough to cover her pussy if she were standing, and a cutoff tube top that went about an inch under her nipples. "Uh, Honey, I don't know whether the healer will let me do anything," he said, tearing his eyes away from the peek-a-boo nipple show. "She let me stay awake all day, other than my little nap just now, but I had the impression that she was going to finish up with the cosmetics of my arm while I slept. That shake could have been a little premature."

"Mamma and I have had a 'talk' with the healer..."

"You can talk with her?" Jeff interrupted.

"Well, no," Diana said walking in wearing a matching outfit, her long breasts swaying nicely, "but we communicated, just the same, a little while ago, while you were snoring away."

"I don't snore," Jeff automatically said, then continued. "Hon, I feel fine, but my arm is still so weak I can't even pick up a cup of coffee without risk of dropping it. I..."

Diana unzipped his jeans, and after a struggle, managed to get his rock-hard cock out. Capping her mouth over it, she began to suck. After a couple of moments, when she knew she had his undivided attention, she stood up, took his hand, and ushered him to his feet. Grabbing his cock again, she winked at Arlene and started for the bedroom. She didn't even bother to listen to Jeff's feeble protests.

As they entered the bedroom, Jeff looked at his women. Looks like Diana got outfits for everybody. I think I like the internet more every day.

Ann and Melissa were seated, while Jennie and Laura were displayed on the bed. That seemed to be the word that best fit. Everywhere he looked, he could see a hint of pussy, or a nipple peaking from under white material. The outfits were never meant to be worn anywhere other than the bedroom. He was amazed that Arlene had come into the living room with the others there, then realized that they weren't paying any attention to Arlene at that point. They were too intent on each other. Checking the tops out again, he realized that the only way the tops and skirts would conceal anything was for the wearer to stand erect, and not move.

Diana knelt, and with practiced motions, removed Jeff's shoes, and in short order, his pants, shorts, and socks. Arlene got rid of his shirt.

Diana reached for the healer. To Jeff's astonishment, the healer released and allowed Diana to pick her up and sit her carefully on the table by the bed.

Jeff's half-hearted protests were long gone, as the women and girls ushered him to the center of the giant bed. Ann, being careful to not press hard against his shoulder and arm, straddled his head and lowered a wet pussy to his mouth.

Arlene frantically, but unsuccessfully, tried stuffing his big cock up her pussy as she straddled his groin. Rising up, she adjusted his penis, and sat down again. This time, the head went in, but forward progress came to a halt with a squeak from her as her pussy refused to stretch. Mumbling to herself about her pussy having grown together, or something, in just a few days, she raised up and dropped again. Rotating her perfect ass, and wiggling, she managed to take in over half of Jeff's cock. Breasts bouncing and swaying, the short top having ridden high up on her tits, her nipples were beginning to dribble milk. As sweat formed on her forehead, she decided to try short, rapid strokes.

Seeing her daughter's almost frenzied efforts, Diana stroked Arlene's back, then gently lifter her long, thick hair out of her face, placing it over her shoulder. "Easy, Baby. He's back. You have all the time in the world," she cooed as Arlene looked up at her mother, then shivered.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit. I didn't even know I was close. Oh, this is a big one," she hissed, sucking in a breath. "Oh, Daddy. I'm cuming," she wailed. With the announcement, she gasped, her pussy spasmed, then accepted Jeff cock all the way to her cervix — which produced another squeal that went on and on, and a heightening to an already tremendous orgasm.

Jeff grunted, slammed his hips clear of the bed, raising Arlene up as his cock pulsed with six over-long gushes of sperm laden semen. Arlene's eyes got big, then rolled back in her head as she passed out from the feel of his sperm in her womb, and the intensity of her repeating orgasms.

Diana and Laura caught their sister-wife as she slumped forward, her long breasts spurting milk. They directed and gentled her fall to the bed beside her father. Jeff's cock gave one last mini-spurt straight up, to splash back onto his groin, as he groaned into Ann's pussy.

Laura was ready with a hand towel to push between Arlene's legs to catch some of the overflow, but Arlene's thighs were already coated with thick semen, and there were two big drips on the bed from when they had positioned her next to Jeff.

"Well, at least we had turned the spread down before we started. Of course this means that we'll have to change the sheets before we sleep tonight," Diana commented with a grin on her face as she threw a towel on the puddles.

Laura looked at Jeff's hard cock, still leaking a little sperm, his groin covered in the last spurt. "Our Alpha Male is either in full force tonight, or else the healer has had a hand in things. That's even more than he normally cums."

Ann had already had several really good orgasms, but as Jeff got his bearings again, after his cum, he lipped and sucked her clit. As her latest orgasm came down, she tried to push away from his mouth, having become too sensitive. Jeff clamped down on her hips, trying to hold her to him, but his left arm was too weak. Instead, he reached up and gripped across her hips and waist with his right arm, holding down so she couldn't get away.

With renewed vigor, he attacked her clit, sucking hard and running his tongue around her nub. She bucked and squealed, trying to get away from the over-stimulation, but he hung on, increasing the suction. Suddenly, she stiffened, her squeaks of protest became a wail as the over stimulation turned into a much greater orgasm that went on and on as the wail went higher and higher.

Just as Jennie laughed and capped her hands over her ears, Ann ran out of breath, and consciousness, at about the same time.

Laura and Diana were ready, and guided their sister-wife just as they had Arlene; this time to the other side. "Two up, two down, literally," Diana chuckled to Laura.

"Yeah," Laura returned, "but, although our husband is the greatest lover on earth, this is certainly no test tonight. I had an orgasm just watching his cock go into Arlene, and that was before I started pulling on my nipples."

"Well, he does have five more to go, and he has been injured..."

"Five?" Jeff and Laura said in unison.

"It's way past time that you made love to Helen, like we talked about several days ago," Diana said, smiling at her husband.

"Diana, I don't know..."

Whatever Jeff was going to say was interrupted by Melissa, who had just finished wiping her husband's errant spurt up from his groin with a damp washcloth. "Are you guys going to talk or fuck?" she said, knowing that Jeff liked to hear her say the word.

Not waiting for an answer, she lined Jeff's cock up with her entrance, and squirmed her way down the shaft. She couldn't take it all, but she eventually had the head pressed tightly against her cervix. Shortly, she was bouncing up and down almost as frantically as Arlene had. Jeff watched her jiggling breasts, and puffy nipples for a couple of minutes, the top only accenting her breasts, then locking her to him as tightly as he could, he thrust upward, meeting her stroke for stroke.

After only a few minutes, her pussy spasmed repeatedly, and she collapsed onto Jeff's chest, giggling quietly, then quickly drifted off to sleep.

Laura, Diana and Jeff managed to get Melissa over Arlene and lying beside her without too much trouble, not that Arlene would have noticed anyway.

As Jeff started to lie back down, Jennie timidly asked, "Baby, do you think you can do me doggie style? Would that work with your arm?"

"Sure Babe," he said, standing. "That's a great idea, and it won't stress my arm a bit."

Jennie was quickly on her hands and knees, her ass at the edge of the bed. Dropping her belly, she pushed her pussy up as high as she could, offering it to Jeff.

Getting in Jennie wasn't any easier, but within a couple of minutes, he was seated as far as she could take him. Standing behind her, he had a good view of her breasts and beautiful face in the mirror, as he gradually changed from slow and gentle, to harder thrusts. She tried to arch her ass higher, fucking back at him, her mouth hanging partly open as she wondered whether her womb was going to survive. She couldn't seem to get enough air to tell Jeff to ease up a little, and her body seemed to overrule her mind. Her hips just kept slamming back, the orgasms just kept coming, and there didn't seem to be enough oxygen. The world went black.

When Jennie collapse under him, Jeff was about three strokes from finishing. He groaned as his cock was suddenly no longer surrounded by pulsing, gripping pussy.

As Diana and Laura took care of Jennie, Laura quickly took Jennie's place, offering her pussy. "Do me," she said, reaching under her legs to help guide Jeff's cock. "Just fuck me. I know you're close, but don't hold back. I've already had a bunch of orgasms with my hand while I was watching you fucking the others. Just ram in and cum in me."

"Laura, Honey," Jeff tried to reason as she held his dick in place and tried to ram back onto it. "I don't have to cum yet. We can take our time. I can make love to you like you like it."

Laura pushed back, hard. "Just bury it this time," she hissed, as Jeff did just that. He knew it had to hurt her, but she was almost beside herself from watching the others fuck.

Jeff just machine-gunned his cock back and forth. Then as she rammed back into him and held, he pumped his sperm into her, holding her tight around the waist with his right arm. He gave her a few short, almost brutal strokes as his semen pumped into her, then followed her to the bed as she collapsed, a smile on her face, her eyes glazed.

Diana was ready with a hand towel this time, capping Laura's pussy as Jeff pulled his cock out.

He managed to not quite fall onto the bed, rolling onto his back. "Oh, shit," he sighed. "I'm still weak. That just about killed me."

"Oh, poor baby," Diana chided as she washed his cock and balls with a warm washcloth. "Most men would give their right arm to be able to cum that much in a month, let alone fuck five females unconscious, or close to it."

Jeff managed to get a pillow under his head, and looked at his wife. "You know I never came that much before. The healer has got to be the reason..."

Diana dropped the wet cloth onto the towel she had just used to dry Jeff, then tossed both of them in the general direction of the vanity sinks. "Jeff, you know that you've always filled me up, and then some. I'm not sure it's the healer. It just might be the Alpha Male needing more semen now that he has more females to service. Our sex was so tame, that I suspect that I never really got you stirred up, I'm ashamed to say..."

"Di, let's not get into that. We both agree that our early years were a nightmare. It wasn't any more your fault than it was mine. Neither of us knew anything about sex, and we didn't have an environment that we could learn in. If you so much as whimpered while I was making love to you, your mother said something about it at the breakfast table the next morning. Those walls were so thin, you could hear a gnat fart in the next room."

Diana had to grin a little as she got the image of a gnat passing gas. "Well, anyway. Laura and I think the healer may have helped, probably by making everything in your body work at optimal efficiency, but we think the Alpha Male has simply adapted himself to servicing his women."

"Diana that..."

"Hush," she said. "Let me think." She picked up her cigarettes, and when she was sure Jeff was focused on her mouth, lit one, making a production out of the process.

When Jeff handed her as ashtray, and settled back against the pillow, she continued, "All of your women, particularly Laura, Arlene, and I are starting to be able to know where each of us are, just like we do you."

"But, Diana, that would mean that it's the healer doing it, since I used it on each of you..."

"Maybe," she said, looking at Laura, who was now awake, her eyes still lidded, and a faint smile on her face. "But maybe, it's you that's influencing us. We couldn't do it until you got hurt. I've already tried to describe what Arlene and I, and Laura to a lesser extent, heard and felt when the bear attacked you. Then none of us, including Helen, could leave you without having the most awful feeling you could ever imagine. That wasn't the healer. That was you."

Jeff sighed, quietly; he didn't want to piss Diana off when she was on one of her tirades, as he viewed her subject.

"Jeff Matthews, don't you get that look on your face."

Laura chuckled as Jeff, caught, stammered.

Diana continued, "How much are you pressing, now?"

"Well..."

"Say, a little more than twice what you could do when you were working out so much in the military? Is that about right? Not to say anything about doing twice as many reps, but you're not bulked up like someone would be that could do that. If anyone could."

"Diana, now that's bullshit. There are plenty of people that can lift more than I can."

"Yeah, and they can't tie they're fucking shoelaces because they're so muscle bound. And they look like freaks. You have plenty of muscle, but it's toned, beautiful muscle. There are few females that don't give you a second look when we're out. I thought that waitress the other night was going to stick a nipple in your mouth even with all of us sitting there glaring at her. And it seems like every time you look at a woman, she'll push her breasts out and stands straighter.

"Seriously, Jeff. We've got to think about you being in an enclosed space with other females. In that small room we had in the restaurant, I think the pheromones our Alpha Male was putting out almost did that waitress in."

"Diana, look Baby, let's not go overboard with this..."

"Jeff, how many guys have told you they fucked their girlfriends or wives unconscious?"

"What do you think guys do? Just sit around and say, hey, I fucked my wife unconscious last night?"

Diana put her cigarette out, trying to hold back a snigger. "Actually, I think they do some of that, just as women do, but my point is that, even though it happens occasionally, it certainly isn't an occasional thing around here," she finished, motioning to the girls stretched out on the bed.

"Jeff, you need to learn how to control it. It would have gotten embarrassing if that waitress had pushed her titty in your mouth. And what about Evie? She's living here now. You see her at least at meals, not to say anything about conferences about projects. You'll be meeting with her a lot from now on. I like her a lot. I don't want for them to have trouble."

As Jeff tried to say something, Diana leaned over and touched his lips with her fingertips. "Hush, Darling. I know you wouldn't, but that's not the point. It's time for you to seriously consider what Laura and I have been trying to tell you for a while now. Remember when Helen was in the weight room with you? She looked like she hit a wall when she walked in there. You were sweating profusely, and the pheromones were a bit thick. I could feel it as soon as I stepped into the room, so I know what she felt. And the girls attached you as soon as we left, didn't they?"

"Well, you know they did. You can always tell..."

"Exactly...  Jeff — try. If you don't. If you keep denying this, Evie is going to have problems — may already be heading in that direction."

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Diana? Even if what you say is true — and mind you, I'm not saying it is — then how in the fuck do I turn it off?"

Diana and Laura glanced at each other. "We don't know, Hon. But think about it, and try. Helen is an easy problem to solve. Just marry her. But Evie is something else. Those two are obviously deeply in love with each other."

"Marry her?" Shit Diana, let's not go overboard here. Helen is responding to me because she hasn't touched a man in a couple of years... And I don't get any vibes back from Evie at all. I don't think she even knows I'm in the room when Dave is there."

"Are you a telepath?" Laura casually said as if she had asked for someone to pass the salt.

"Now don't you start, Laura. It was your bright idea about this Alpha Male shit. Diana doesn't need any help..."

Diana glared at him.

"Well, are you?" Laura quietly asked.

"Laura, you know damn well I'm not. If I could read minds, I'd sure manage to stay out of the doghouse more than I do now," he finished, proud of his logic.

"I've been reading..."

"Oh, shit. Here we go again. Look, Baby," Jeff thought for a moment, wondering how he was going to say this without getting another wife pissed at him. "There aren't any telepaths. Any of those shows that purport to have a telepath 'read' the audience is bullshit. And science fiction is just that — fiction.

"Granted, that I don't understand how you, all of you, know where I am. And I don't understand how Diana and Arlene knew I was in trouble, but that doesn't mean..."

Laura sighed. "Not a mind reader. A projecting telepath. That's the only logical explanation. We know where you are because you project. We get a 'Jeff' signal."

"Oh, shit," Jeff said, lying back on the pillow and holding his head with his hands. "The shit is getting deeper."

"Then tell me how Diana and Arlene knew you were in trouble. Remember, I got part of it, too. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew something bad was happening, and it sure wasn't from a phone call," she finished, irritation sounding clearly in her voice. "And, don't forget that Helen was awakened as well, before Diana burned rubber out of here."

Jeff, who had gone over the same thing a hundred times in his mind, didn't have an answer. Has the healer changed me? But Diana and Arlene did know where I was for many years before I got the healer,  he mused.

Diana, seeing the stress on Jeff's face, said, "Let's go visit Helen. I told her I would be by to see her tonight, but I didn't tell her I would be bringing a surprise," she finished, smiling at her husband.

When Jeff started to frown, Laura and Diana grabbed a hand each. "Come on. You and Laura can get a quick shower, then let's go visit with Helen. If things turn out, you can make love to her; otherwise, we'll just have a nice visit. Then again, we might talk about telepaths," she teased.

"But, Sweetheart, you and I still haven't..."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll take care of me, later. I want to go see Helen first. Otherwise, I'll probably be asleep. Hurry up. Wash a little of the pussy smell off, so we can go see what she's doing."

A little later, showered and shaved, dressed in shorts and a polo shirt, Jeff followed the women — still dressed in their fuck-me outfits — down the hall toward Doctor Boswell's apartment.



-------

Chapter 16

Jeff tried to stay a couple of steps behind the women as they walked toward Doctor Boswell's apartment. Diana and Laura glanced at each other, grinned, then Diana said, "Okay, Big Boy, we do appreciate you checking out our asses, but you need to get up here and put your arms around us. You can look at our rear ends, anytime."

Jeff laughed as the two women stopped momentarily for him to catch up with them, then snuggling into his arms as they started on. "I may be able to see sexy ass any time, but I was looking at the finest asses in the state, just then."

"The state," Diana teased. "Only the state?"

Jeff laughed at Diana's mock pout, but Laura commented, "You better not let the girls hear you include me in that. Granted that Diana's is beautiful, but she looks like a teenager, while I..."

Jeff came to a stop, forcing the women to, also. Smiling down at her, he said, "Baby, you sounded serious just then."

"Well, you know I'm serious. I can't compete with the girls, let alone Diana."

"Bullshit," Jeff and Diana chorused.

"How old are you, Laura?" Jeff asked, his voice now serious.

"You know I'm thirty-one, Jeff."

"And you look..."

"Twenty-five," Diana broke in. Then added, "maybe."

Jeff flipped the short top over Laura's breasts. "Where's the sag, Sweet Pea," he teased. "Breasts that large should sag some on a thirty-one year old. Most of the time a woman's breasts that are as large as yours are will, at least, fall a little to the side when she lies on her back, I'll bet, but yours don't. You look like you've had a really expensive boob job."

A little flustered, Laura tried, "Well, I know they have tightened up some, but I don't look twenty-five, and..."

Jeff soundly kissed her, stopping her objection. Turning to Diana, he said, with a grin in his voice, "When we get back to our suite, make her stand at the tri-mirrors so she can see her ass." Then grabbing hold of both of his women again, he continued, "The healer hasn't gotten you quite down to Diana's apparent age yet, but it's obvious that you're on the way. And Laura, my love, you need to get over that inferiority complex you seem to be developing. Or else I'm going to have to get the hair brush after that beautiful ass of yours."

"Jeff Matthews, don't you even think about doing that to me. I am not into pain. If you do that, I'll cry for you, and I mean really cry. It will not turn me on."

"Yeah," he laughed, looking down at Diana's smiling face. "Now where have I heard that before?"

"Jeff, I'm not kidding here, I don't want..."

"Hush woman," he scolded, reaching under their arms and cupping a breast from each of his wives, "when I get ready to paddle your ass, Laura my dear, I will."

"And you'll scream like a banshie," Diana assured her, "Then we won't be able to wipe the grin off your face after he rams his cock up you."

Jeff had no intention of paddling Laura unless she showed signs of wanting it, or seemed to be a bit fascinated with it like Arlene had been, but he intended to keep her guessing a little. Then worried that he might have gone too far, he spun Laura around and gently kissed her. "I love you very, very much. Don't you ever be afraid of me." Their eyes met for a moment, then he turned to Diana.

"And you, my love. I love you with all my heart." He tenderly kissed her, then swatted both of them on the rear. "Let's check on Helen."

At Helen's door, they knocked.

After a couple of moments she opened the door with, "Why are you knocking? I walk into your kitchen and living room any time I want, per your instructions, the only caveat being to not get embarrassed if something is going on," she teased, ushering then inside.

"Do you have some coffee, Prof?" Jeff interrupted, hugging Helen from the side as they walked toward her kitchen.

"Hah, I'm alive, aren't I? Besides, I thought it was about time for Diana's visit, and I just made a fresh pot," she said, taking cups off the rack as soon as they entered the kitchen.

"Do you need a steak, Jeff? Or will a few sweet rolls tide you over," Doctor Boswell said, looking into her refrigerator.

"Sweet rolls."

"A steak," Jeff was overruled by both Diana and Laura.

"He's been busy tonight," Laura laughed at the look on Jeff's face.

"What about you two?" Boswell asked, smiling. "Do you want something other than sweet rolls?"

Diana and Laura looked at each other. "Some toast will do us, I think," Diana said, as Laura nodded her agreement.

Doctor Boswell started the steak while Laura poured the coffee. Diana rummaged through the refrigerator in search of jelly, and anything else that might go well with their toast.

-------

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen was clean and they were all sitting around Helen's living room chatting when Diana caught Jeff's eye. Jeff raised an eyebrow, then got up and walked over to where Helen was sitting. Taking her hands, he pulled her to her feet, an inquisitive look on her face. Leaning over, he reached his right arm under her hips, flipped her onto his shoulder, and as she gasped, started for her bedroom.

"Jeff, no. Jeff, I... Wait, Jeff..." her protests faded as Jeff continued down the hallway, then turned into her bedroom.

"Shall we go watch?" Laura said, grinning at Diana.

Diana took a cigarette out, then tossed the pack to Laura. "No, let's wait a few minutes. She's probably too shy for that right now. We'll be able to hear when she's ready," Diana laughed.

Laura pushed her shoes off, propped her feet on the coffee table, and picked up the remote. "Well, maybe we'll have time to catch the weather before Jeff has her naked and screaming. Then again, maybe it won't take that long," she mused, looking for a local channel.

Jeff took his time; it was a good fifteen minutes before they heard the first tentative wails. Hitting the "Off" button on the remote, Laura looked at her sister-wife. "Shall we go watch him push that big cock up her?"

"He isn't going to do that until after he marries her," Diana said, emptying the ashtray into the trash can, then starting for Helen's bedroom.

"Uhh, huhh," Laura answered, drawing the sound out. "Granted, most of the time he does what we tell him to, but..."

"He didn't even want to do this. He said the other times when he played with her a little had just been a spur of the moment thing, and this was too orchestrated."

"He didn't wait to marry me first," Laura said, reasonably. "You told him to fuck me in the hotel, and he darn sure did. My pussy was swollen for days. I think..."

As they walked through the open bedroom door, Jeff had his face buried in Helen's groin. She had her eyes squeezed shut, gripping the sheet with both hands, her ass raised completely off the bed, pushing her pussy against Jeff's mouth. Her nipples were hardened, extended pebbles that adorned her beautiful breasts that shook slightly with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Jeff looked over his bare shoulder as his wives quickly got out of their clothes, "Put my cock in for me," he ordered, but winked as he said it.

Diana looked at her husband, "Darling, I think you should wait..."

Jeff's eyes met Diana's. "Why," he mouthed as he raised up and positioned his body over Doctor Boswell's, the lips of her pussy flushed from her arousal, and wet from Jeff's kissing and licking her.

Why should he wait? Diana thought. Laura is right, he didn't wait for her — and it was at my insistence. He's actually had all of us before we had our ceremony. I was worried about Helen not being ready because of the loss of her husband. But he died two years ago. I'm being stupid. This woman loves Jeff just like we do.

Without further thought, Diana moved over to Jeff and took hold of his cock, her long slender fingers not quite touching as she held his warm and throbbing dick in her hand. As he eased forward, she thought, I love this man more than life itself. And I know that he feels the same way about me... and the rest of us, as well. I know Helen loves him, and I love her — all of us do. It's obvious that Jeff loves her — so it's time. He's right.

"You too, Laura," Jeff started to say, but Laura was already there. Together, they guided Jeff's cock to Doctor Boswell's pussy. By the time Boswell came down from her last orgasm, and could reason again, she felt the thick head push against her entrance.

Helen glanced at the woman lying on either side of Jeff, realizing that they had suddenly become a part of this. Both gently stroked Jeff's cock, while Laura ran a finger of her other hand in circles around Helen's clit, but not quite touching it.

"Push, Baby," Diana urged her husband. "You're right. Now is the time."

Jeff glanced at Laura, who quietly said, "Push."

Helen sighed and whispered, "Yes."

"I love you, my little teacher," Jeff said as his lips touched Helen's, while at the same time he pushed forward, putting pressure on her entrance. He pushed a little harder, and the resistance gave way. Helen hissed in a breath as the head popped past her lips, but she didn't admonish him. He waited a moment, and as Diana and Laura withdrew their hands, he pushed again. He continued small pushes and withdrawals back almost to her entrance, gaining a couple of inches at a time. She was tight, but she was lubricating, and so was he.

He increased the pressure of his mouth on hers, gently teasing her lips open with the tip of his tongue. Then after their tongues touched and caressed each other for a while, he kissed the side of her mouth. After touching her lips in several places with his tongue, he increased the kiss, but still staying within the framework of tender, not quite pushing to lust.

Helen moaned into his mouth, her breath picking up, a shiver passing through her body as his cock pressed tight against her cervix well before Jeff expected it.

She gripped his back, unconsciously digging her nails in, her legs suddenly rigidly straightening. "Oh, Jeff. Oh, wait. I..."

Jeff stopped and waited, realizing that she really was shallow, and far tighter than he would ever have expected for a woman forty-five years old. She really looks good. A perfect balance of sophisticated and beautiful, just like Diana. But Diana adds haughty to the mix. Because of the healer, Helen looks far younger now than she did a couple weeks ago, and her breasts are standing proud.

He eased the pressure against her cervix, kissed her mouth again, then suckled her breasts, gently nursing each nipple, nudging her breast with his nose, then gently stripped each nipple through his teeth. Helen sucked in her breath when he did that, so he pulled his cock back a couple of inches, then pressed slowly forward again until he bottomed out.

"Jeff, I..."

"Jeff, what?" he teased.

"I not very big down there. I don't know if I can please you..."

Pulling slowly back, he eased in again. "What's not very big down there?" he teased. "Is my little teacher afraid to say 'pussy?'"

Before she could respond, he kissed her, cutting off what she had started to say. When he took his mouth off hers, she said, "My pussy is small and shallow. I don't know if I can..."

Jeff rotated his ass, rubbing the bloated head of his cock across her cervix. Helen hissed in a breath and shivered.

"You please me just fine, Little Teacher," he whispered, then pulled back until the head of his cock was barely inside her entrance. When he pushed back to her depths, he immediately pulled back about halfway and continued with a slow rhythm, being careful to not bump her cervix too hard. He tried to judge how sensitive she was, not wanting to hurt her in any way, but still wanting to be firm enough that she knew a man was inside her.

Something must have worked, he decided, because she wrapped her legs around his thighs, repeatedly pushed her little pussy up against him for a few seconds, tensed, and came. As she toppled over the precipice, Jeff repeatedly bumped her cervix a little harder while changing the angle from side to side.

When her orgasm began to lose force, he rotated his ass, holding harder against her womb, then got a hand between them to milk her nipples. Her orgasm reversed, and instead of tapering off, again quickly built. This time the whimpers that she allowed herself were forgotten, and she stared into Jeff's eyes as an orgasm so intense that, before, she would never believe existed, wiped away all her reticence about making noise.

Laura and Diana looked at each other and grinned as the sophisticated teacher was finally, really introduced to their Alpha Male. If the building hadn't been so well soundproofed, the girls could have heard their teacher in their suite at the other end of the building.

Helen knew that the sound was coming from her, but she seemed to have no control over it. The sound just went on and on as this — orgasm just didn't seem descriptive enough — whatever it was, carried her to a place that she never knew existed. Her air ran out. The world went black.

Jeff just held her for a while, making sure that her breathing was okay, then eased out of her.

Diana looked at his rock-hard cock, shining with their combined juices. "You didn't cum in her, Baby. You need to cum in her. She needs to feel your sperm inside her."

Diana made room for him and he rolled to his back, sighed and said, "I was concentrating on being so gentle with her, that I just didn't build."

"You'll have to correct that when she wakes up."

"Why, Hon? She had to have enjoyed it. She passed out..."

"I know, Baby," Diana said, rubbing her index finger in circles in his chest hair. "But you do need to cum inside her."

"She's right Jeff," Laura said, propping her elbow on the bed and resting her head in her hand to better look Jeff in the eye. "Any of your women would know why, but it's hard to explain. Having my man empty his seed into me is just... well, beyond my ability to express the feeling. I have this intense feeling of... belonging to you when that happens."

Diana rose up, copying Laura's position so she too could look into her husband's eyes. "Helen has had a hard time. She had finally found someone she could love. Well, actually two people to love and who loved her. Then they were both snatched away. She has survivor guilt. It is not reasonable, nor rational. It just is. She had nothing to do with the accident, but she feels guilty because she's alive and they aren't.

"Now she has another family, but you can bet that she still feels like an outsider. When you cum inside her, she will know that she is yours — that she belongs. When she awakens, you need to cum in her before she passes out again. She needs to feel the warmth of your semen — your sperm inside her.

"I was foolishly wanting you to wait until you married her before you made love to her with that fabulous cock of yours. But she doesn't need to wait. She needs to belong. No matter how much you tell her that you love her, she will know that she belongs to you when she feels the warmth of your sperm inside her pussy and womb."

Diana kissed her husband, rubbing her milk-laden breasts across his chest, feeling his chest hair tickling her extended nipples.

"Baby, we can make love while Helen is recovering, then I'll do what you say."

"No, Hon. You'll still have plenty for me after you take care of her. We came down here for you to love Helen, but you carried it past that, and you were right. We need to get her functioning again. Then you can take care of me later. We're way past when you should have made love to her. She's been head over heels in love with you since you saved her life with the healer. She's had a lot of close contact with you..."

"She sure did," Jeff laughed. "I played with her pussy twice, though her clothes."

Diana and Laura grinned at him, then Diana continued, "Helen was holding back, and so were we, because of her love for her late husband and lover. I guess I really didn't realize how much she loved you until I saw her face as you were kissing her and making love to her."

Laura got a damp washcloth and bathed Helen's face and neck, which brought her around quickly. The first thing she did when her eyes would focus was to look at Jeff and blush.

Diana got up and went to the kitchen, quickly returning with a tall glass of ice water that Helen drank half of without stopping. She put the glass on the table beside the bed, then focused on Jeff's big cock, pointing toward the ceiling.

"Oh, Jeff, you didn't cum. I'm sorry. I didn't do my job, I..."

"It's not a job, silly," he teased her. "And you did everything you were supposed to. Little lady, having my partner faint when we make love is one whale of a complement. And the night is far from being over. I was worried, that since you haven't... had sex in a long while, that I would hurt you. Trust me on this; you have a wonderful little pussy that I immensely enjoyed. And..." he said tickling her, then sliding between her legs, "I'm going to pump a load of sperm up my favorite teacher's pussy."

Helen giggled from the tickle and his comments, but was cut off by his mouth descending on hers. Just as Jeff started to reach for his cock to guide it to Helen's opening, he felt Laura's hand on him guiding him to Helen's entrance.

He had thought that since Helen had several orgasms, plus the big one that caused her to faint, that she might not respond quickly. He was wrong. When the head of his cock touched her cervix, she hissed in a breath, wrapping her legs around the back of his thighs for leverage. She grabbed the back of his upper arms and thrust her pelvis hard up to meet his strokes.

When Jeff grimaced from the grip of her hand on the not-quite healed arm, Diana redirected Helen's hand to Jeff's body. Apparently realizing what Diana was trying to get her to do, she wrapped her arms around his body and hung on. She soon had several orgasms in a row.

"Do it now, Jeff. If you don't hurry, she's not going to feel it."

"I'm trying," he said, grimacing again as Helen, not realizing, dug her nails into his back, slammed her pussy upward and came. Jeff, almost there, focused, trying to forget her claws. At last he felt the pinnacle reached.

"Here it comes, Baby. I'm going to pump my sperm into you. I'm going to cum... in your... pussy..." he gasped out as his big cock throbbed, then pulsed with the first geyser of semen.

Helen tensed, her legs stiffening as she gasped in a breath. "Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jeff. Oh, I feeell it," she whined, then locked her legs around his hips. She continued, almost a mantra of, "Oh, Jeff, Oh, Jeff..." her breasts and upper body becoming more and more flushed.

Jeff cock pulsed several times. He pulled back to her entrance and stroked to her cervix, causing thick semen to be expelled from her overfilled pussy. Helen gasped once, shivered and fainted.

Jeff stroked a couple more times, then held deep inside her, his cock pulsing out the rest of his semen.

Laura wiped Helen's face and neck with a cool, wet cloth. Stay inside her Hon, Diana said. "Let her wake up with you still inside her."

Jeff maintained his weight on his forearms, gently kissing Helen's face until she awakened.

When the world came back, Jeff gently touched his lips to hers, "I love you, Darling. I'll love you forever."

"I love you, too," she whispered. Tears sprang to Helen's eyes as she threw her arms around him and hugged him. After a while, Jeff kissed her again, and withdrew his half-hard cock, moving to lie beside her on his back.

Laura gently kissed his cockhead, then licked his dick all over, cleaning most of their mingled juices and his sperm off, then wiped his groin and balls clean with the cloth, drying him with a towel.

Diana had tucked a cloth around Helen's groin, then gave her a loving kiss that lasted a long while. When the kiss broke, Helen said, "Oh, Diana. I... thank you for allowing this, and thank you Laura. I'm so happy," she whispered, tears flowing freely now.

Laura hugged her, lightly kissing her lips. In moments, Helen was deeply asleep.

"You did good," Diana whispered in Jeff's ear as she came to lie beside him. Rising up, she pushed her milk-swollen breast against his mouth, her engorged nipple already leaking milk.

Jeff, needing no further hint, and having missed doing this, took her long nipple in his mouth. He suckled her gently to start with, then increased the suction, pulling back on the nipple, then adding the stimulation of his hand squeezing and milking her breast.

In seconds, Diana was cuming. As soon as she came down from the orgasm, another one built. "Oh, Baby, I've missed this," she said, biting off the last word and her orgasm hit.

When she came down, Jeff kissed her mouth. Locking eyes with her, he whispered, "I love you, too, you know. More than life itself."

"I love you, too," she whispered, then pushed the other breast toward his face. After nursing her milk for a while, he rolled on top of her, intending to gently make love to his first wife, but she said, "Jeff, I'm too hot for that. I know that you're going to make love to me they way you did Helen, but watching you two, not to say anything about watching you take all your wives, has gotten me way too hot for that. Just fuck me, Honey. Helen couldn't take that, but I can. Put me on my hands and knees and breed me. Fuck me unconscious, like you did the others."

Jeff grinned at her and gently kissed her. He suddenly broke off the kiss and flipped her onto her belly. Grabbing a couple of pillows, he folded them and stuffed them under her, raising her ass in the air. Quickly getting behind her, he mounted her, clamping his legs on the outside of hers, and guiding his cock to the mouth of her pussy.

As he touched the bloated head of his cock to her, literally dripping, pussy, he pushed forward. He marveled at how tight she managed somehow to be. But he wasn't as gentle with her as he had been with Helen. He pushed in until his cock would go no farther, pulled back and pushed in again, getting deeper each time.

A few strokes later, and he was seated against her cervix. By the time he reached under her to grab her breasts, she was cuming. With his legs on the outside of hers, his body on top of her, and his hands holding tightly to her breasts, she could barely move at all, completely at his mercy.

Within moments he was slamming into her, and she was grunting, trying to hump her pussy back at him. Jeff could smell her arousal, blended with Helen's, and more faintly with Laura's. Knowing that she probably wanted to hear it after what she had said about Helen, he grunted into her ear as he pounded his cock against her womb. "You're mine, and I'm going to breed you."

Diana whimpered, then tried to thrash beneath him as his words and that marvelous cock toppled her over the edge. Jeff could feel her milk wetting his hands. He milked her breasts, stripping her nipples between his thumb and fingers, causing her to wail as she felt her milk pulled from her breasts.

Her orgasms were coming back to back when she felt his cock swell to impossible proportions, then jerk hard inside her, bathing her womb with his man-seed. She gasped as he pounded her, then slammed into her and held. She felt warmth spread into her womb, and the world went black, the last thing she heard with his lips pressed against her ear was, "I love you."

She smiled as consciousness left her.

As Jeff collapsed on top of Diana, he heard Laura whine. As he looked over at her, she was frantically shoving two fingers in and out of her pussy while she furiously rubbed her clit with the other hand. She arched her back and held, going still, before collapsing with a little grin on her face as she stared at him.

After a while, Jeff got up and got a warm, wet washcloth and a towel to clean Diana and himself. Laura came back in with more water.

Later, Laura lay on one side of Helen, who was still asleep with Jeff and Diana on the other side.

"I didn't even think to ask if she's on birth control," Jeff suddenly said, feeling like a fool.

"She isn't," Diana declared.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said, but much to his disgruntlement, Diana and Laura only laughed.

"She's forty-five, and never had any kids," Diana said. "Of course, now that the healer has spent time with her, she looks a lot younger than that. I doubt that she'll make much of a fuss, at worse, if she turns up pregnant, and I really suspect it will be the exact opposite." Seeing the look on Jeff's face, she grinned. "I'm just messing with you, Darling. Her period is due to start tomorrow. We haven't decided who's going to be the first to be pregnant."

Jeff didn't think her joke was a bit funny, but forgot to be aggravated as Diana kissed him as Laura wiped his cock clean with another washcloth. Diana grinned, "Sooner or later, there's going to be a lot of swollen bellies around here." Just to see the look on his face, she added, "You do know that your daughter has been talking more and more about being first, don't you?"

Jeff's face lost its tan in a heartbeat as both women giggled and lay back on the bed. Jeff wasn't sure whether Diana was kidding again or not, but was afraid to pursue the subject.

Diana smiled at her husband. "She's been doing a lot of research, with Ann's help. As best we can determine, there is little medical evidence to indicate there would be any higher chance of physical or mental abnormalities than there would be if she chose a total stranger for the father of her child. Indeed, they, she and Ann, have made a pretty good case for her bearing your child, since anthropologists have rejected that the incest taboo lowers the incidence of congenital birth defects.

"The reverse might not be true, but she and Ann are convinced that the offspring from two very intelligent, healthy people would stand a better chance of being intelligent and physically sound, even though the parents were father and daughter." Diana absently reached over and twirled her finger in the hair on Jeff's chest. "I was very much against this to start with, but with the healer to supervise things that might go wrong, and her love for you, I'm beginning to be swayed.

"Also," she said, pulling his hair just enough to get his attention, "once she's made up her mind, well... like father, like daughter. She's just as stubborn as her dad," she finished, reaching over to kiss him.

At Jeff's frown, Diana continued, "Don't even start, Jeff. You're our Alpha Male, but you know you'll lose this one if we all decide it's going to be. Just let it lie for now. Arlene probably isn't ready to have your baby yet. There's too much going on in our lives right now. But ready or not, there are six wives that are thinking more about babies than we have been, and for Laura and me, that 'have been' covers several years.

"A lot of women like to pretend their lover is impregnating them when they feel his sperm. I'm no exception; you saw my reaction a little while ago, and Arlene certainly isn't either. Plus, she has the added stimulus of the incest taboo to excite her even more. If she wants to play 'knock me up Dad, ' you might both get a kick out of it. When she gets to the real decision, please realize that harsh words, hurt feelings on both sides, and more, she'll still have her way if she feels strongly enough about this."

Jeff laughed weakly. "Yeah, that's about the size of it." Turning his head to face Doctor Boswell, seeing her eyes open, he asked, "Are you mad at me, Doc?"

Boswell, who had returned to the land of the conscious in time to see Jeff finish with Diana, chuckled. "Mad? The man asks me if I am mad at him for giving me the best orgasms of my life. The only thing I am mad about is that you didn't do it sooner," she smiled, leaning over to gently touch her lips to his. "Thank you," she quietly said as she drew her mouth back from his.

"Helen, a beautiful woman doesn't thank the man after they've just had sex. It's the..."

"Oh, hush. You have beautiful pussy coming out your ears," she quietly giggled. And I'm forty-five years old..."

This time, it was Jeff that interrupted. He sat up and pulled Helen up beside him. "Look in the mirror, and tell me what you see."

"Jeff, I know..."

Jeff grinned at her in the mirror. "I see a beautiful woman smiling back at me, and I see two headlights staring straight at me. No sag — none. Those aren't forty-five-year-old breasts." Turning back to her, he continued, "You already had a marvelous body from all the swimming you do, not to say anything about the bike, and stairs. If I look closely enough — and I do mean closely — I can see a little bit of crow's feet at the corner of your eyes. Probably, in a week or two, that'll be gone, too. Now show me something in that mirror that isn't a beautiful woman — anything about you."

"Jeff, I'm not beautiful..."

When the assurances from Laura and Diana died down enough for Jeff to speak again, he asked, putting his arms more tightly around Doctor Boswell, "Didn't your husband tell you that you were beautiful?" Jeff's voice was gentle as he touched his lips to hers.

"Yes," Boswell said, the tears starting to flow.

"I'm not trying to replace your husband, nor can my wives replace Martha. That's another part of your life. We respect that, and the people who loved you so much, and that you still love. We would bring them back if we could. All we can do is love you, and again welcome you to your new family who loves you just as much."

Jeff put a fingertip under Helen's chin and gently lifted her face so he could look into her eyes. "Somehow, you're going to have to realize that you are, indeed, beautiful. You were beautiful when we first saw you in the restaurant, and the healer has only enhanced that beauty as she digressed your age. I think she likes what she has done, and now that we understand each other so much better, I swear she gets a kick out of doing it. More and more, I think she has a sense of humor.

"When we were insistent that she allow me to stay awake because Wainwright and Margaret were coming up here, she (the healer) lit up my life with the pain for a few moments, I think, to show me how much she had been doing for me. She definitely got my attention, and if it wasn't smugness that I felt from her, then I would be amazed. She likes what she's doing for my women. And pretty lady, refusing to acknowledge that you're beautiful, is something you need to consider. We all realize that you're just being modest — and we appreciate that. But down deep inside, you need to know, really know, that your body matches that beautiful mind that you have."

Helen buried her face in his chest and let the tears flow, mumbling how much she loved Jeff. But there were no sobs, just tears of joy. Diana and Laura snuggled with Boswell as best they could, just letting her cry.

"I'm so happy," she sniffed as Laura handed her a tissue. "I just got my brains fucked out," she said, laughing through her sniffles, "then told that you people love me. I can't imagine anything that could be better."

Jeff pushed his lips to hers, tears and all, but she had to pull back in a moment to breathe. Capping the washcloth to her pussy, she untangled herself and stood up, blushing furiously.

Diana laughed at her antics as Helen started to the bathroom, hand cupping her pussy, still. "There are side effects to getting your brains fucked out by our Alpha Male," Diana said, laughing harder as Boswell made a face over her shoulder as she dashed into the bathroom. Everyone got quiet, listening. In a little while, there was a distinct "plot" from the bathroom as some of his cum hit the water, then other sounds. "We heard that," Diana called out, just to tease Boswell more.

Boswell made a disparaging comment and flushed the commode. Diana got up to go take a shower with her while Laura lay back on the bed, snuggling in Jeff's arms.

-------

Diana woke later, then grinned sleepily as she realized what was happening. Jeff had Boswell positioned on her knees with her rear hanging over the edge of the bed, servicing his new woman. She may not know that she's his woman, yet. But she's probably well on her way, considering the look on her face,  Diana mused, stifling a laugh.

Boswell, who hadn't realized that Diana was awake, snatched a pillow to bury her face into, in an effort to muffle the sounds coming from her mouth. She tried to stop, but Jeff eased his cock back and forth, maddeningly slow, but pushing firmly against her womb each time. It felt like he had his arm stuffed up her. The lips of her pussy were stretched almost painfully, and she knew it would be pain if she weren't so hot.

Finally, he speeded up. Her orgasms continued to come, one after the other. She didn't know how long Jeff had been fucking her, but if he didn't stop soon, he was going to kill her, she thought. Has anyone ever died from having too many orgasms? some part of her mind wondered as another orgasm came on locking her stomach muscles, then shaking her whole body as her pussy spasmed around his dick.

Diana was lying on her side watching her husband and his new woman. Laura, awakened by the muffled squeals, turned on her side behind Diana, snuggling as they watched their husband servicing his new conquest. Laura put her head on Diana's shoulder and whispered in her ear, "We're going to have to get the pussy cream out of our suite. She isn't going to be able to walk after this."

"Jeff, finish her," Diana said, a slight frown on her face. "She's no more use to this than Laura was. We don't want her hurting from that big cock of yours."

Jeff grimaced, but began to concentrate. Boswell's squeals and whimpers went to screams, then as Jeff grunted, his cock jerking, he emptied his balls into their teacher. She bucked her ass up as high as she could, held quivering for a moment, then collapsed. He followed her to the bed, his legs locked on either side of her hips as he let his cock soak in her quivering pussy.

Between them, Diana and Jeff got the pillow from under Helen's face so that her breathing wasn't obstructed. After a while, Jeff pulled his dick out as Diana pushed a washcloth under Helen.

"Oh, Baby. Look at her pussy. You might have done that a little too long. She may not have as much lubricant as we do, since she's a little older. Whatever it is, her pussy is wrecked," Diana said, dabbing gently at Helen's entrance with the cloth as gob after gob of semen squeezed out.

"She lubricated," Jeff sighed as he tumbled onto the bed beside Boswell. "I think her pussy, particularly her outer entrance, is just small. Her lips felt really tight on my dick, not to mention that she was tight inside, too. I didn't mean to do that to her."

Laura, who had gotten up and walked around behind Boswell, commented, "Well, she'll definitely know she's been fucked," she said, chuckling. "And besides, I can feel, very well, where you've been earlier tonight, Jeff, just because I hadn't had any in a few days. I can imagine what it felt like to Helen. Been there done that," she laughed. "I'll always remember that hotel room. Not to mention my wedding night," she finished, running her hand down her husband's arm.

"Jeff," Laura said. "When did you put the healer back on your arm?"

"Well, when everyone went to sleep, I got to feeling guilty, I guess you could call it, and went down to our place and got her. She had wanted to finish my arm tonight, so I didn't need another female mad at me," he joked.

"I guess we could put her on Helen's pussy," Diana teased.

Laura laughed with her. "Yeah, that would be great, wouldn't it? I can just see Doctor Boswell waking up with the healer attached to her groin. That should really get her attention."

Jeff sat up on the side of the bed, then gently turned Boswell over, maneuvering her around until she was properly situated. Looking at his watch, he said, "It's nearly five now. I'm going to stop by our suite, put on my running clothes, and pick up my pistol." When Diana and Laura both started to object, he shushed them and continued, "I'm just going to walk/jog for a couple of miles. I need to get some exercise, and get my strength back."

"Jeff, are you sure? Your arm is still very weak. Don't you think you should... ?"

"I'm sure, Hon," he answered, "and the healer told me last night that I should restart my exercises. The arm is stronger this morning than it was even yesterday afternoon. And... I know what both of you are really worried about," he said, kissing each of them. "Remember that was one bear, and grizzlies tend to be loners, if I remember correctly. Also, I'll damn sure be more observant this time.

"Let Helen rest. I'll be back in a little while, then we'll wake her and get her in the hot tub. As soon as the girls find out, she'll be swamped with giggling teenagers."

"You be careful," Diana admonished as she got up and hugged him before he could get out the door of the bedroom. "I don't ever want to hear that call again. Once is enough for a lifetime."

Kissing Diana, he said, "Go back to bed, and snuggle with Helen. I'll be back in an hour or less. I'm mostly just going to walk. Maybe, if I feel like it, I'll jog some. Oh, yeah. Let's all go in to Winter Park for breakfast. After we've eaten, Frank and Margaret can shop for their clothes, then I'll get them out on the range for a little catch-up, so they can shoot with the rest of you."

Diana thought for a second. "You better leave a note in the kitchen, if we're going to eat out. They get up early."

"Good idea," Jeff said, heading out the door.



-------

Chapter 17

Quietly entering the bedroom, he put the healer on a dresser. Not wanting to wake anyone, he got his running things out of the closet and quietly dressed — the gray outfit this time, since Diana had thrown the blood soaked running shorts away. Checking his pistol and inside holster, he noted that someone had given both a thorough cleaning. He also saw his watch laying on the dresser. Someone had cleaned the blood off it as well. As he finished tying his shoes, he felt the healer.

Turning to look at her sitting where he had just put her, he wondered if he really had felt anything. He could feel her mental touch if she were touching him, or very near, but she was all the way across a large room.

{{{? }}}

Faint, but it was there. He quickly walked over and picked her up, placing her on his shoulder again.

{{{?? }}} Louder this time.

Suddenly, for a moment, there was a clear, intense contact. {{{ I wish to go with you on your exercise excursion, }}} she sent in picture/emotion/concepts.

Now what? Why would she want to go with me? She's a healer. Why should she want to go on a run? Surely, she can't see what's going on?

When he got only jumbled response, frustrated, he stretched out on the bed on his back, careful to not wake his wives, and freed his mind. Sleep or the trance-like state she helped him enter, engulfed him.

{{{ Suddenly, his mind was inundated with images and concepts that he eventually interpreted as: I wish to examine more of my immediate environment. I will go with you on your exercise excursion. I do not see as you do. My senses encompass far more than yours. In addition, I can use the input from your eyes to more readily understand your environment the way you sense it. I have been assimilating the interchanges between your mates and yourself while I have been restoring your body. If there are more of those "bears," I need to eliminate them. }}}

Uh, Little One, bears are somewhat protected. They can be hunted, I think, under limited conditions. You have to have a permit, and do the hunting at a certain time of the year, in certain places. Things like that. I'm not familiar with the hunting laws here yet, since I'm not a hunter, but unless we're attacked, we can't just go out and "eliminate" the bears. Jeff repeated himself, while trying to send images with his mind.

{{{ Intense emotions and images: Frustration — non logic. If one comes near, I will eliminate it! Logic! }}}

Little One, bears do not normally attack humans. My running by it probably triggered some sort of chase reflex. It saw me as prey since, in its mind, I was running from it. If things had happened differently, I would have had time to stand my ground, make noise, maybe even fire my gun into the ground to show the bear I wasn't prey. Then again, this could have been an aggressive bear that was just plain going to kill me. He sure was past the reasoning stage when I saw him charging me.

Jeff didn't know how much the healer understood, but he repeatedly sent the concepts until: {{{ Vivid, explicit images: Bears need to be eliminated! }}} it insisted.

Jeff willed himself to full consciousness and sat up. He pulled his tee-shirt up and placed the healer on his shoulders, where she quickly spread out, then stopped communicating. He grinned a little as he quietly left the suite, realizing that the healer's "logical" decision was very close to that of his wives, who now wanted to get a rifle an escort him every time he even mentioned leaving the house. As far as they were concerned, a good bear was a dead bear, because one had almost killed their husband. Simple — no bears, no threat.

Jeff stopped by the kitchen to leave a note for Wainwright, Margaret, Evie and Dave, got a drink of water, and went out the back door. Despite his admonishments to the healer, he felt some apprehension as he walked down the drive and left the glow of the outside lights behind him. The sky was overcast, and the moon either had gone down, or was in a dark phase, since there was little ambient light.

No stars, no moon, overcast. I shouldn't be able to see without a flashlight, but I can make out the road very well, and a little of the surrounding area. Only a couple of months ago, I used to run with the flashlight on, unless it was a clear night and the moon was up. Have you done something to my eyes, Little One? There was no answer. Mentally shrugging, he increased his walking pace.

I feel just fine. No reason I can't jog a little. My arm isn't all the way back, strength-wise yet, but the rest of my body feels strong this morning. Almost without thought, he changed to a jog. Five minutes later, his body almost crying out to be unleashed, he increased his pace to half his usual running speed.

A little later, he came to the area where the bear had attacked. Slowing to a jog, he glanced over the side of the road, knowing from the smell that the bear carcass was near. Seeing the mound at the bottom of the slope, he realized that his memory hadn't exaggerated the size of the bear. Regaining his pace, he continued. Realizing that FFA had already kicked in, he unconsciously increased his pace again. Hearing the slap, slap, slap of his shoes, he concentrated on putting his feet down properly, quieting the sound and smoothing out his pace.

After a while, his internal clock kicked in, and he glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes; time to turn. I promised Diana I would be out only an hour. As he turned and started back, the feeling of well-being intensified, and he brought his pace up, yet again.

Thank you, Little One. I love to do this, and when that bear hit me with his claws, I thought I would never be out here again. And I wouldn't be, without you. Even if I had somehow survived, I would have been a cripple. No arm, or an arm mangled so badly it would never move again. I owe my life to you. Thank you.

{{{ Uninterpretable thoughts and feelings. Your mates are the reason you are alive. I did what I was meant to do, }}} he clearly received.

Why can I understand her now — well at least part of what she said? The last was very clear. Then suddenly, it hit him. FFA. His body had shifted into FFA (Free Fatty Acid metabolism. (A runner's high, where a runner's mind free associated much easier). Well, I guess that's progress. Now all I have to do is run down the road for fifteen minutes whenever I need to talk to her. He laughed out loud at his own weak joke.

{{{ Amusement! }}}

Jeff was halfway up the drive before he forced himself to walk down. Entering the house, he went into the kitchen and started the coffee makers, then headed for the shower. As he walked by the bed, he leaned over an blew a raspberry right on Arlene's clit while she was still sound asleep, her pretty mouth slightly open. That started things off, and he soon had four girls chasing him into the shower, where he wanted them, anyway.

Withing minutes, Arlene was hanging onto one of the handholds on the shower wall while he serviced her pussy from behind.

Oh, shit,  Dad that's sore. Oh, go easy. But she kept slamming her hips back at him, in contradiction to her admonishments. With a wail, she came for the third time, and her legs lost their strength. Jeff was forced to hold her until Jennie could assist. Then Melissa pushed her ass up to him, and it continued.

After the shower was finally finished, and they were dressed and halfway to the kitchen, Melissa suddenly grabbed her pussy and stopped. "Uh oh," she proclaimed, and took off for the suite.

"Use a tampon like I did," Ann called after her, laughing.

Later, Jeff, looking a little shell-shocked, walked into the kitchen, still surrounded by giggling girls. Evie and Dave were seated at the table eating breakfast, while the others stood around drinking coffee and chatting. Jeff and the girls greeted everyone, then Jeff sat at his usual place at the table while Doctor Boswell, walking stiff legged, brought coffee to him. Putting it down, she motioned for Jeff to slide his chair back. As soon as he had complied, she sat down and snuggled her breasts to him, curling up in his lap.

Jeff hugged her and kissed the top of her head, as Evie, Dave, Frank and Margaret stopped what they were doing and looked. Helen, ignoring them, rose up, took Jeff by the neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. A full half-minute later, she pulled back from his lips and said, "Thank you."

Frank, remembering the demanding doctor that had lectured him on Saturday, snapped his hanging mouth shut. Evie and Margaret both had flushed faces, but they were grinning from ear to ear. Dave just grinned.

Diana, after gaining eye contact with each of the wives, called Helen's name. When she looked around at them, they all said in unison, "Welcome to the harem."

Shortly, there was not a dry eye among the women, and Dave and Frank suddenly decided that they had to get up and refresh their coffee, but they didn't fool anybody.

Arlene looked over at Doctor Boswell, "Wow, you mean you got by without the hot tub and the... uh..."

There was a moment of stillness until everybody figured out what she meant, then they were all laughing. Helen, whose face turned even redder than it usually was when she was embarrassed, said, "No, we got up early, and I sat in the hot tub for almost an hour. And I've done the other as well," she finished.

After a moment, Jeff interjected. "Well, I'm famished. What say we adjourn to Winter Park and get a big breakfast?"

"Oh, you're famished are you?" Margaret teased. That started the laughter again. Jeff looked startled for a second, then laughed along with the rest.

"I meant from my run this morning," he said, laughing, then hugged Helen to him again. Looking over Doctor Boswell's shoulder, he continued, talking to Dave and Evie. "I also meant for you two to come with us. Didn't I put that on the note?" he asked, eyeing their plates.

"We would love to, Jeff" Dave said, still chuckling. "But Evie and I have a ton of things to get done this morning, so we just went ahead and fixed breakfast for ourselves."

Diana turned toward them. "Okay, we'll let you slide, this time. But remember that forty-hour workweek. And last week you went way over, so you need to take a day off during the middle of the week, or take a long weekend to make up for it. Nothing we're doing has to be done instantly." Then looking at Evie, Diana continued, "Evie, I mean it. Make sure he takes time off," she said nodding at Dave. "Surely your crew bosses can get by for a day without you."

Dave looked uncomfortable, glanced at Jeff, who suddenly became intently interested in talking to Helen, who was still sitting on his lap. Looking back at Diana, the kitchen growing quiet, the girls grinning, Dave said, "Uh, Diana. I really appreciate what you're trying to do, but Evie and I just took a new job. I've got to get everything squared away with Korey..."

Diana walked around the table and motioned for Dave to slide his chair back. When he did, a questioning look on his face, Diana shocked him by sitting in his lap. Dave looked almost petrified, glancing furtively at Jeff, who studiously ignored what was happening, continuing to talk quietly with Helen.

"Dave," Diana sweetly said, fighting not to grin. "I'm boss bitch around here. Now, as long as the boss bitch is happy, well... everyone else is happy. Now, how am I going to be happy, when by your own admission," she said, stretching a point, "you've already worked yourself almost to death." (Referring to his heart problems — now nonexistent.) "You two helped keep my husband alive. You're family now, like it or not. Plus, you feel like family. I don't work my family to death. We've had to work all of our lives. I'm not telling you to shirk your new job, just to take a day off for all the extra work you did last week, and all the stress that was piled on, as well. Since you're family, you had better start acting like it. Okay?" she finished, smiling as she hugged first Dave then standing, hugged Evie as well.

"Better give up, Dave," Jeff said as he and Doctor Boswell stood. "It's easier in the long run. Besides, she's right a disgusting amount of the time," he chided, winking at Diana, who smirked at him.

As they walked out the back door, Laura said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Jeff, we don't want to have to speak to you about making love to the waitress this time."

Jeff in the lead, kept walking, but the back of his neck turned red. Laura continued, "If you pick up where you left off, she'll be on her hands and knees with her butt in the air in about five minutes."

Frank turned to Margaret and quietly asked, "Do you know what she's teasing him about?"

"Not a clue. Why don't you ask?" Margaret responded with a grin.

"Nope. One woman is enough for me. I'm not going to get that herd down on my ass again," he answered, holding the rear door of the Expedition open for her.

"Chicken!"

"Damn straight," he answered, absolutely serious as he closed the door and walked around to the other side to get in.

-------

As everyone filed into the hotel restaurant, Margaret whispered to Frank, "Notice the shoulder purses? They're all so similar. I can't imagine why they would do that?"

Frank, glad to be up on something ahead of Margaret, answered, "Well, I was leaning on the kitchen counter a little while ago, and moved Ann's purse over a little to get it out of the way. I realized that the purse was a hell of a lot heavier than it had any right to be, so I peeked. There's a holster built right in the center of the purse. You just push the gun in from the end, and the purse closes up right over the weapon. Every damn one of these women is armed, and I'll bet it wouldn't take a heartbeat for all of them to have those Glocks of theirs in their hands. This Cheetwood, or whatever the fuck his name is, is going to wind up dead if he messes with any of them. Count on it."

The greeter was talking to a customer for a couple of seconds as the group walked up. Turning around, his standard spiel ready on his lips, he froze. The harem was in battle dress this morning, all in heels, Laura and Diana with theirs a little taller, skirts a couple of inches above the knee, all elegantly and obviously expensively dressed, not to mention so many beautiful women in one place. He couldn't seem to count how many of them there were.

Jeff came to his rescue: "Ten, nonsmoking. I called ahead; there should be a conference room waiting for us."

Tearing his eyes away from the women to focus on Jeff, he got it together well enough to say, "Uh, yes sir. Right this way sir," then stumbled over his feet as he led the way to the room.

"Must be a bitch trying to walk and look over your shoulder at the same time," Wainwright sarcastically said out of the corner of his mouth to Margaret, as the greeter almost walked into a waitress. Chuckling in response, she bumped his side with her elbow.

Doctor Boswell saw people she knew, and she and Diana peeled off the group to talk to Boswell's friends. "Just order the breakfast bar for us, Jeff," Diana called as everyone else continued on down the hall.

By the time Helen and Diana were through talking to Helen's friends, most of the group had already gotten their food and were sitting at the big table, the door to the room closed for privacy. Melissa and Jeff had been kidding back and forth, and the kidding had turned into flirting.

When Helen and Diana walked in, Melissa's face was flushed, she was sitting up straight, her breasts pushed out, and the rest of the women weren't far behind, including Margaret.

Diana, feeling the pheromones, and maybe something else, hit her as she entered the room, walked over to Jeff where he sat at the head of the table. Putting her hand on his back, just below his neck, she felt the healer under his shirt. Quietly in Jeff's ear, she asked, "Is that the healer I feel stretched across your shoulders?"

"Yeah, she wanted to come," Jeff answered.

"Hmmm, that's interesting. But you need to cut down on the pheromones before those waitresses get back to refresh our drinks. Plus, look at Margaret," she whispered in his ear, nodding discretely to where Margaret sat, almost on display, just as the girls were.

"Right now," Diana continued, still looking at Margaret, "she's teasing Frank, but if you don't cut it down, I'm afraid she'll make it obvious who she's preening for."

Jeff looked around at the women. "Are you sure, Baby? We were just having fun. I don't think I had anything to do with it. Heck, they're my wives."

"Jeff, would you just shut up, and do what Diana says before those waitresses get back," Laura whispered in the other ear. "I left the door open when we came in, but the greeter closed it just after that. If you keep on with this, we'll all be lying on the table with our skirts around our waists. Just trust Diana on this."

Jeff, for the first time since entering the room and getting his food, really looked at the women. Shit! They all look like they're in heat. Did I do that? It can't be,  he wondered.

"Get up and go to the bathroom for five minutes, Baby," Diana hissed at him. "And don't flirt with anyone when you get back. I'll see if I can't keep the damn door open long enough to clear this place out. And get sex off your mind if you don't want a scene with a waitress, or Margaret," she admonished as he got up to leave, but squeezed his shoulder for a second, realizing her words were harsher than she had meant them to be.

"What's all the whispering?" Wainwright teased. "Don't tell me you have another big secret you're keeping from us," he said, half serious.

Diana laughed at him as she and Laura turned to head for the breakfast bar. "No, we've already told you our biggest secret. Then again, maybe it wasn't our biggest secret," she laughed, following Helen out the door.

Wainwright had noticed the girls flirting with Jeff of course, but was a little amazed that Margaret was doing almost the same thing with him. Damn,  he laughed to himself, we spent half the night fucking. Now she's rubbing my leg under the table. I'm going to have to get the recipe for those shakes. My dick hasn't gotten up that many times in one night since I was twenty-five. But if she doesn't quit with the hidden hand routine, I'm going to have a hard-on and not be able to get up to go get a plate of fruit to go with my food. Crap, what's happened to her? She never does anything in public.

A few minutes later Jeff came back, and immediately started talking to Frank about the fortress. Everyone enjoyed the meal, bantering back and forth, but there were no more sexual innuendoes, or flirting from Jeff. Both waitresses managed to touch him, but made it look like just accidental brushing up against him.

-------

Although most of the shops and outfitters catered to winter ski wear, they did manage to find enough jeans and sport clothes to tide Frank and Margaret over until they could get to Denver or Boulder. On the way back home, they stopped at a small western wear store about ten miles out of Winter Park. In addition to clothing, they had a large selection of boots, from ultra fancy to work-style.

The owner, realizing that she was shooting over a baited field, dragged out catalogues with other items that she could order, but didn't have room to keep in stock.

Two hours later, the Expedition and the Escalade were stuffed with packages. Everyone had bought an assortment of items, even Jeff. The store owner had their address, and told them she would have the ordered items delivered.

Standing in the doorway, waving as the vehicles left, she realized that she had just sold more than she normally would sell in two weeks time, and that didn't even include all the ordered items. Yeah,  she thought, I'll see that your stuff is delivered. Guaranteed. Because I'm going to deliver it myself. Fred is just going to have to get off his butt and keep the store for a few hours. These folks are going to get the personal touch. I want them to come back, and maybe bring some of their rich friends with them.

Starting back inside, she headed for the phone to call her suppliers. She was going to get everything in here in the next two days or she was going to raise some hell.

-------

After they parked in the back, the women and girls, giggling, headed into the house to try on their new clothes. Jeff caught up with Frank and Margaret, both laughing, as they headed for their suite. "If you guys are ready, put on one of your new outfits and meet me in the conference room I showed you earlier," he said. "I've got it set up for shooting class. We'll spend some time on safety, and dry firing, then get you out on the range. We can spend a couple of hours this morning, then have another class late this afternoon. That should bring you up to speed enough to get you in the same class as the girls tomorrow morning, if it doesn't rain."

"Sounds like a winner," Frank said, grinning. "We're looking forward to this. We'll be back as soon as we can get changed."

About thirty-five minutes later, Jeff looked up from the computer where he had been playing on the internet, as the door opened. Frank and Margaret walked in, Frank looking a little sheepish, but Margaret was smiling with that special look on her face.

Jeff stared for a second, then leaned back in his chair and guffawed, continuing until there were tears rolling down his cheeks. "Hell, I thought you guys were trying on clothes," he managed to gasp out.

"Well, it's not that funny," Wainwright groused.

"Laura is going to have to patent those shakes," Margaret laughing, joined Jeff, not embarrassed at all. "And I want to be her first customer," she added, flopping down in a chair and pulling Frank down beside her.

Jeff knew that the healer had a bit to do with their increased sexual desire, since their bodies were now healthier. He picked up the phone and punched in the number for the living room. Arlene answered with, "Jeff's harem. We spread um, he plugs um."

Trying not to laugh, he admonished, "Baby, the call could have been some of the construction people upstairs. I..."

"Oh, don't be silly, Daddy. I knew it was you."

Hesitating a second, realizing that she probably did know it was him, he continued, "Sorry, Baby. I guess you did know it was me. Could we..."

"Mamma is making it now. She'll be there with it in a few. Love you, Dad," she giggled, hanging up.

Sometimes I think I'm about three steps behind them, no matter what I do. Turning back to Margaret and Frank, he continued aloud, "We've got coffee coming. Now let's get you two familiar with the way the Glock works, and breaks down. Then we'll start on safety, dry firing, and range rules."

Both of them were looking at him very strangely. "What?" he said, drawing the word out, realization dawning.

Margaret and Frank glanced at each other. "Do you know how odd your end of that conversation sounded?" Margaret asked, a slight grin on her face.

"Yeah, I guess it did sound a little weird," he tried to laugh it off, knowing where the conversation was headed.

"And do you know that Frank and I came back to this conference room last night around two in the morning? Frank stayed in the hallway, and I came inside, closed the door and yelled. He couldn't hear me. We swapped places. When he was the loudest, and I had my ear pressed to the door, I could barely make out some sound — but not enough to understand him. Then we tested the intercom, although, since Frank designed the system, we knew it, at least originally, could not be turned on remotely. It still can't, except to receive announcements. There was, as Doctor Boswell stated, no way that Laura and Diana could have heard Boswell when she became pissed at Frank. Yet they knew she was pissed.

"It's one thing to be told about things that have happened here, still another thing to see them happen. Doctor Boswell told us that she was, at first, going to set up a test to prove or disprove that the women knew where you were, but gave the idea up after she had been here for awhile. Gave it up, because she had seen so much, that she didn't need proof, anymore.

"You picked up that intercom, said a few unrelated things, and somehow ordered coffee, or more likely, realized it was on the way."

"Okay. Okay. I get your point. But don't make too much of it. If I'm sitting around, and it's been more than thirty minutes, I'm thinking about drinking coffee — and they know it. They get a call; figure out it's me..." There was a glare from Margaret. "Well, alright, knew it was me. It wouldn't take a genius to know what I wanted."

"I guess we've teased you enough," Margaret said, reaching over to touch Jeff's hand. "Teach us to shoot a Glock."

The door opened and Diana, wearing a cowgirl outfit, walked in pushing a serving cart with coffee and snacks. Margaret and Frank chuckled and looked at Jeff.

Diana looked a question at them for a second, smirked, then turned around and walked out the door.

"She put it together," Frank said as if he were talking to himself. "That fast, and she put it together. She knew we were laughing at Jeff about them already knowing what he was going to say on the phone, and that she was already preparing the coffee when he called. That is one sharp woman."

"Yeah," Jeff said, getting up and moving around to the head of the table. "And if you listen to her, she'll assure you that she has the IQ of a rock. Sometimes I think I just need to get up in the mornings, exercise, then pick up my written instructions for my day. It would be simpler that way." Shrugging, a grin on his face, he continued, "Well, anyway, move up to the two closest chairs to the end of the table here, and let's learn to field strip and reassemble a Glock..."

Jeff, Margaret and Frank spent an hour in the classroom, then two hours on the range, meeting everyone else in the kitchen for lunch about one.

"How were the pushups?" Jennie asked, the grin obvious on her face.

Margaret tried to glare at her, but couldn't hold the frown.

Diana brought a bottle of aspirin, setting it down with a glass of water next to Margaret. "The aspirin will help with the sore muscles."

"I'm too damn old for this," Margaret complained.

Frank accepted his glass of water, telling Diana thanks. "You," Frank admonished, "Hell, what about me. I may never be able to do another pushup the rest of my life. Then again, I don't think I want to do another pushup, ever."

"Ah, it wasn't the pushups I made you do on the range, it was all those you did last night, Frank," Jeff chimed in.

Margaret's sniggering didn't help any.

"And besides," Jeff continued, "all it takes to avoid doing pushups, is to do exactly what I say. Focus on the front sight, make sure it's level with the rear sight, and centered, squeeze the trigger, and don't anticipate the round."

"But you gave me pushups for not stepping back when I was done firing."

"Yep, got to step back one step and come to parade rest. That's part of safety. Heck, I was very lenient. I was tougher on the others. And my firearms instructor was sadistic. Someone broke wind, (at least the instructor said that he smelled it) and when he started screaming 'who did that?' and no one answered, he gave all of us forty extra pushups — every day. But he drilled safety into us until I can't imagine me ever breaking any of his rules. As I told the others, a properly run handgun range is a very safe place."

"Ah, Jeff, we're mad at ourselves, not you. I had no idea, and I'm sure Margaret didn't have either," he said, glancing at her, "that we were that badly out of shape. Of course, your doing every pushup we did, nose to nose with us, and not even straining the least little bit, added insult to injury. I guarantee that there will be, at least, a few pushups in my life every day from now on, regardless of what I said a few minutes ago," he finished, smiling at Melissa as she set a big steak in front of him.

"Well, other than that," Diana said, helping the girls finish putting the food on the table, "how did the shooting go?"

"I was pitiful," Margaret answered.

"Yeah, me too," Frank agreed. "We watched you people shoot yesterday, and I'm absolutely sure I'm not up to shooting with you."

"They did just fine," Jeff differed. "By the time we shoot this afternoon, they'll be able to drop in with your group, Diana."

When Frank started to object, Jeff continued, "We're using what is usually referred to as a cyclic approach. We dry fire, ball and dummy, then do a very little live fire from the seven-yard line. Then basically do the same things from the fifteen yard line. Then we start at the seven again, spending a little less time with the basics, gradually picking up the speed, and also going to slightly more live fire. Back to the fifteen the same way. The third time through, we'll move back to the twenty-five for some very slow basics. Each time through, we spend less time on the basics, learn another slightly more advanced technique, fire a little faster, and fire more live rounds.

"We'll work on the fifteen yard line this afternoon, so you'll be comfortable there, and after the women shoot today, they'll be ready to cycle back to the seven tomorrow morning, where you will join them. They'll still be shooting a little better than you two, since they will have more hours and more instruction than you do, but you'll know what to do and be comfortable being a part of the larger group.

"Diana and I will both instruct in the morning, so you two can have more personal attention to help up catch up with the others. In a week, things will even out, and you'll never know you were behind."

After lunch, Diana's group went back to the range, while Jeff, Margaret and Frank dry fired in the classroom for a while, then relaxed.

When Margaret went back to the living room, sat back and put her feet up still wearing a gunbelt, Jeff teased her. "Hey, I thought you were all uptight about wearing the gunbelt? You wanted me to let you carry it past the construction crew, instead of wearing it, then put it on after we got to the temporary range."

"Ah, crap, Jeff. Don't even start. Number one, I'm tired, and number two, I forgot I had the darn thing on."

Jeff just grinned at her. And another few hours of ball and dummy, and you won't care if it is a live round, or a dummy, that you're pulling the trigger on. That's when the flinch will go, and you'll really start concentrating on sight alignment. And you'll wonder why your group size just drastically decreased. Then you'll gain a little confidence that you can do this just like a man can, and start shooting even better. Frank had better look out. He has some bad habits to unlearn, before he can properly learn good ones. You don't have anything to unlearn. Unless he really tries, you're going to outshoot him, very shortly.

When Diana's group came back, Jeff woke Frank and Margaret from their nap, stopped by the garage to pick up ammunition, and they headed back to the temporary range.

As they were walking out, Frank noted, "The sidewalks are poured, and the shed at the fifty is up. What are they doing there on the target line?"

"I had Dave go ahead and pick up the mechanisms for the turning targets, since the manufacturer is in Denver. That's what they're installing now. They can be controlled by a remote, either singularly, in tandem, or all together. I guess we could put in a Hogan's Alley, but I'm really not that interested in it. The turning targets will provide a measure of stress, and provide the capabilities for decision making.

"We're providing stations for metal targets as well. We've got several poppers, IPSC dueling trees, hanging resets, swinging targets, falling plate racks, spinning silhouettes, and more. I told Dave he could go wild if he wanted to, and he took me at my word." Jeff motioned to the right side of the range, past the regular shooting stations, "That's what all the metal frames are for that you see being set up. The frames will hold the various types of metal targets."

"None of the women, except Diana of course, shoot well enough yet to start on the metal targets, but they will shortly. As will you guys," he said, smiling at Frank and Margaret, "you're building muscle memory, while working on the basics. Once we're past that, we can incorporate the metal targets into the training. They provide instant feedback when you hit them, with either the 'bong' they make when the bullet strikes them, or the movement, i.e., falling over, rotating, or things like that. Some of them that fall, or go horizontal have a reset target that you can shoot to bring all the targets back up again, or down, as the case may be.

"Dave has an electrician who's putting in electronics to reset all the rest of the targets that don't reset themselves, or have a shooting reset target. All we'll have to do is push a button, instead of walking down and pulling a cable, or manually standing the plates, or silhouettes up again. Of course," Jeff added, grinning a little, "if we keep adding stuff, we're never going to get the range done. So I finally nixed some of Dave's ideas. Maybe we'll add them later, but heck I want to be able to use the range before it's too cold to be out here."

Margaret and Frank looked at each other. "Will things be ready before we have to go back to Saint Louis?" Margaret asked.

"We could probably shoot some of the plates tomorrow afternoon, if you were a little further along. As soon as the cement dries that the frames are embedded in, we could use them. Of course, it would be better if we let the electrician finish first," he grinned. "But even so, it will only be a couple of days. The range itself, although it looks a lot more professional than our yard lines lined off with rocks, isn't going to make you shoot any better, or learn any faster. We have the basics: a shooter, weapon, ammo, a target and a backstop. That's all we need for now. The plates will help you to learn to shoot faster, and they're fun to shoot, plus, particularly with the IPSC tree, or any of them for that matter, competition can become intense. Not just grading a target after you shoot. That 'bong, bong, bong, ' will really jumpstart your heart when you're competing for time with your buddy, or racing up one side of the IPSC tree, while your opponent shoots plates on the other side, trying to beat you to the last one."

"I don't know whether I'll ever be good enough for that," Margaret said, staring in the direction of the metal frameworks being installed.

Jeff smiled at her. "You'll get there," he encouraged.

When they got to the temporary range, Jeff looked at the cardboard backing on the frames. "Looks like we need to put up some new cardboard."

Frank stood looking at the target frames. "Jeff, your women are way ahead of us. The centers are gone out of the backing."

"You two will be there, shortly. Don't worry about it Frank. Leave the worry to me. You just do what I tell you, just like they did, and you'll be tearing the center out of the paper — and the cardboard backing — soon. Also, remember, a lot of their shooting, like yours, was from the seven yard line. Now if they had done that from the twenty-five, it would be impressive. So don't get all uptight on me. Let's just get some new cardboard up and start having fun. The rest will come."

They practiced until the failing light made them give up for the day.

As they policed up their brass, Jeff commented, "Tomorrow morning, you two will shoot with the other group."

Margaret dumped a handful of spent casings into the bucket. "I'm really nervous about that, Jeff. They shoot so much better than we do. I don't want to make a complete fool of myself, and I know that Frank feels the same way..."

"You won't make a fool of yourself. I've really pushed the commands with you two. You know exactly what to do. Sure your groups won't be as tight as theirs, but I'll use the same commands with everybody tomorrow that I've been using with you. I cautioned Diana to stay within the same routines, so there won't be anything new. We'll do exactly what we did this afternoon. Then we'll begin to speed things up a little. They've already shot a day at a little faster speed, so they will have some practice that you don't have, but I won't let you mess up. A good instructor never pushes a class past what they can do. So just relax, you'll be fine."

Margaret looked at Frank and shrugged. Neither of them realized how far they had come with their training.

Later, as everyone was finishing dinner, Laura, a slight smirk on her face, asked, "Frank, would you like a shake tonight?"

Wainwright and Margaret simultaneously answered, "No."

Laura, only half-trying to stop a chuckle, said, "Well, I guess that was definite enough."

Wainwright glanced at Margaret, but spoke to Laura, "Between the, uh, effects of that shake last night, and staying on the range half the day, all I want to do is sleep."

"I second that," Margaret agreed. "I'm bushed. I can hardly hold my eyes open now that my tummy is full."

Although all the women tried to keep Margaret from helping with cleanup, she refused to leave the kitchen until everything was cleaned and put away.

When Jeff returned to the kitchen after both Frank and Dave left with their women for their respective areas, he was confronted by Laura and Diana as the girls and their teacher filed by going to a late class. "Jeff," Diana started to say, "Frank and Margaret..."

"I know. I know," he broke in. "They're really tired, and they've become our friends. So you two think that I should..."

Laura didn't give him time to answer, just pushed him into a chair, plopped down in his lap, and put her mouth on his, pulling her top above her braless breasts as she did so.

Diana had started to set out cups for each of them, but thought better of it, and only got one for herself. She filled her cup at the coffee maker, put in sweetener and cream, then carried it to the other end of the table, just as Jeff turned Laura around and bent her over the table. Pulling her shorts and panties down to her knees, he lubed his dick on her wet pussy, and pushed home.

Laura's eyes popped open and she let out an unladylike grunt as Jeff hit bottom. Jeff reached under her, grasped a swinging breast in each hand without missing a stroke, and milked them. Laura whined and tried to hold her pussy higher. Banging hard into her cervix on each stroke, he stripped her nipples, trying to make her breasts squirt milk as Diana's did. He didn't get any milk, but he got the first of her orgasms, then another, and another.

After about five minutes, when her orgasms were coming so close together that they seemed to be just one continuous release, he slammed into her and held, his cock gushing semen. Feeling her womb flood with his seed, she screamed and slumped on the table, trembling.

When Jeff could see again, he realized that Diana had her shorts down, with her hand on her groin, her face flushed, as she came down from her latest orgasm. Smiling at Jeff, she said, "Pick her up and carry her to our bed. I want you to service me before those girls decide to attack you. They'll know what you did, and will be here before long, probably with Helen in tow."

Jeff laughed as he pulled his pants up, flipped a stuporous Laura over his shoulder, and as Diana came up to him, put his left hand behind her neck, pulling her to him. He kissed her passionately for a time, then lightly kissed her lips and the tip of her nose. "I love you, My Lady," he quietly said, then swatting Laura playfully on her ass, turned and headed for their bedroom.

In the classroom, the girls were fidgeting more and more. Having these girls not pay attention was something that had never happened before. Doctor Boswell was about to chastise them when she felt something. Suddenly realizing that her students weren't reverting to normal teenagers after all, she asked, "What's wrong?" but already realizing what it probably was.

The girls looked at each other then burst out with giggles. Arlene looked at Boswell, and said, "Well... he's, uh, making love to Laura."

"Bullshit," Jennie broke in, "he's fucking her brains out," she finished, starting all the girls laughing.

Ann jumped up and grabbed Doctor Boswell's hand. "Come on, Teach. Let's go get our turn."

Boswell, her fair skin prone to blushing, anyway, turned red as Ann pulled her arm. Seeing that she was outclassed, she decided to refrain from fighting something that she wasn't going to win. "Okay, you can go, but he doesn't want me. I'll just finish some outlines that I've started, and go on back to my apartment."

The girls looked at each other with one of their silent conversations that was intriguing Boswell more and more. Turning as one, they grabbed her and started out the door, the outlines that she had just picked up, scattering about the table.

"Wait, girls, wait," she almost desperately said as they went through the door into the hallway. "Even if he wanted me to be there... I'm... really sore. He. Well, he made me..."

"Oh, we know that, silly," Ann said as she and the others hustled their teacher toward their suite. "We've been there," she giggled. "Remember, I was the one with the armor-plated hymen. Plus, I had so many orgasms that my stomach muscles were sore for days. But you're going with us. He's got a tongue, too, you know," she said, just to watch Boswell blush again.

"But he doesn't want me, I'm too old."

"And what do you call last night?" Melissa said, taking the other arm.

"Well, that was just..."

"Just our Alpha Male taking another woman," Arlene finished, grinning. "And stop worrying about what he thinks about you. Any man, and probably a lot of women, would like to get into your pants. And I'll bet he's as much in love with you, as you are with him. Now quit worrying, and let's hurry, he's going to be fucking Momma in a minute, and I love to watch that."

"Hah," Jennie teased. "It's not watching them fuck that you're after; you want that big dick of his shoved up your pussy."

"Well, sure. What do you expect," she laughed. "Now come on, Teach. If you can't fuck tonight, we'll let you suck his dick."

The girls laughing, Boswell still trying to protest, they rounded the last corner, went into the sitting room, and on into the bedroom. Jeff had Diana kneeling on the side of the bed, her pussy shoved as high as she could, while Jeff stood behind her, stroking hard. Diana was telling the world how much she appreciated his cock ramming into her womb.

Boswell felt her body respond, her nipples instantly becoming hard, her pussy becoming saturated. Diana must be right about the pheromones. I sure don't need foreplay with this going on. But I can't have that monster pushed up me tonight. I'm still swollen, and way too sore. Maybe he will kiss my pussy for me, and just thinking about sucking that cock makes me wet. But he has all these young and beautiful women who will fuck him any time he wants it. I don't have a chance.

Jeff finished with Diana, pumping his load into her, her wail going so high that Boswell wondered if her friend were going to hurt her throat. Then as Diana collapsed on the bed, Arlene grabbed hold of his cock as Jeff staggered back. Kneeling in front of him, she sucked his softened cockhead into her mouth, gently sucking and laving it with her tongue.

Someone pushed Boswell. The back of her knees hit the bed, and she was on her back, with Melissa pulling her pants and panties down. Someone tugged her shoes off to help, then her blouse and bra joined the rest of her clothes on the carpet. Jeff was suddenly between her legs, pushing her knees almost to her breasts as he gently licked her swollen pussylips.

As his tongue sought out her little nub, flicking it over and over, she came so hard the room seemed to darken. Jeff backed off to gently licking her outer lips, then after a while, tenderly pulling on them with his lips, occasionally nipping slightly with his teeth. When she squirmed around, trying to get more contact, he backed off until his tongue just barely touched. When she thought she would go out of her mind, he pushed a little harder with his tongue, pushing past her inner lips, then slowly moving his tongue upward toward her clit. Each time his tongue would near her button, he would stop, then after a second or two, flick her clit with the tip of his tongue.

When she absolutely knew she was going to go out of her mind, he locked his lips around her clit and sucked. As her legs slammed against Jeff's head, she rocketed into orgasm, and seemed to stay there. Seconds, or hours later, she lay trembling on the bed. I know I have a stupid grin on my face. He almost killed me with his tongue. And after I just saw what he did to Diana, I know he was being very gentle with me last night. Diana obviously loved what he just did to her. No wonder these girls can't stop talking about him. As much as I still love my husband, last night was the best sex I have ever had, and that has to be one of the understatements of the year, and I love this man. How can I love him, and my dead husband, too? But I do. Oh, my.

As Jeff started to pull back, she grabbed him and pulled him up to her, kissing his mouth, tasting herself on his lips. Ever since last night, I now know what the girls, Diana and Laura mean. This man is mine — and I am his. I belong now.

Suddenly, tears burst from her eyes. Jeff, not exactly sure why Helen was crying, hugged her tight, and looked toward Diana, who was lying on her side looking back at them with a smile on her face.

After a while, the girls hugged Helen, and Jeff pulled back a little to give them room. Diana moved over and whispered in Jeff's ear. "I think she just realized it."

At Jeff's raised eyebrow, she continued, "That she belongs."

Jeff pulled Helen back into his arms, stroking her hair and petting her. When everything was quiet, he gently touched his lips to hers, then asked, "I love you, Helen. Will you be my wife?"

She couldn't answer him for crying, but she threw her arms tightly around him. He got the message with her tying to nod her head as she hugged him, burrowing into him, sobbing. He just chuckled and hugged her tighter. Suddenly the girls were laughing and cutting up, trying to decide what they were going to call her in class.

"Sister-Teach," Melissa said, laughing. Then they were all hugging Boswell again, and everyone was laughing, but she was so sleepy from all the orgasms.

-------

Helen realized that she must have drifted off, for she awoke with someone squealing beside her. Helen opened her eyes to see Melissa, her legs wrapped tightly around Jeff's hips, her arms clinging to his body as Jeff stroked rapidly, then held still, deep in his young wife, emptying his sperm into the wiggling young woman.

Boswell drifted back to sleep, a smile on her face, knowing that she was spending her first night as part of the harem. She was only vaguely aware when the rest took their turns with Jeff, then covered her. Two of them nestled against her, as they slept with their newest member.



-------

Chapter 18

Jeff picked the healer up from the table near the bed, and quietly made his way out of the room. In the sitting room, the light turned down low, he relaxed on the couch. Again, sleep or the trance-like state she helped him enter, engulfed him.

{{{??}}}

Little One, I need you to help two more of my friends. Like Helen, they're a little older, and I would like that to be corrected, if you would, and also for you to make them as healthy as you can. He tried to send the concepts over and over, feeling that she eventually understood him.

{{{ Amusement. }}}

Yeah, I know. But will you do it please?

Jeff felt the sense of amusement again, but also knew that the healer was willing to do as he asked. Rousing himself, he and the healer headed for Frank and Margaret's suite.

A few minutes later, he quietly opened the sitting room door, walked on through, then after listening at the bedroom door, he cautiously turned its knob. Waiting after he opened the door, he listened. Hearing deep breathing from two people, he slowly pushed the door wider, and stealthily made his way to the bed.

Gently setting the healer on Wainwright's chest, Jeff waited for a moment as the breathing of both grew deeper still; he felt confident that the healer was now in control. He started to sit on one of the seats, then changed his mind, and instead, sat on the floor with his back against the wall, somewhat out of sight should either of the sleepers awaken. Leaning back into the corner, he relaxed and closed his eyes, waiting for the healer to call him. Time seemed to drift as he catnapped (combat slept) for a little more than three hours.

{{{?? }}}

Quietly coming to his feet, he retrieved the healer and left the suite.

{{{ Amusement. A sense of a joke played on someone. }}}

Tired, Jeff crawled back into bed and snuggled Diana to his right shoulder. Arlene awakened enough to worm her way under his left arm, pressed her breasts to his side, threw an arm and leg over him, and instantly slept.

He didn't get up until five. Putting on his gear, he went for a short run. When he got back, figuring that someone had already made coffee, he stopped in for a shower and a clothing change before he went to the kitchen, arriving at six on the dot.

Wainwright was leaning against the counter, coffee cup in hand, gesturing animatedly as he talked with Dave and Evie. Margaret was scrambling eggs, while Evie put potatoes on a large platter. "We woke up this morning, feeling great. I said something about a weird dream, then Margaret said she had one, too. We compared notes," he said, taking time out for a sip of coffee, then continued as the rest of the women filed in, "and, although the dreams themselves were basically different, we both dreamed that a blue light was doing things to us. Isn't that weird, it almost..."

Boswell chuckled — a knowing chuckle.

Diana smiled as she walked past. "I thought you were sleeping in a little later than usual," she commented as she came up to Jeff, put a hand behind his neck, and kissed him hard. Pulling away, she continued, "It surely seemed like you were fully recovered last night, so I thought you would get up at four for your morning run." Starting to help with breakfast preparations, she said over her shoulder, "Guess you were up late last night, and had to get an extra hour of sleep before your run," she finished the smile, now a full-fledged grin.

"Did your dream happen to involve something sitting on your chest?" Dave asked, as he and Evie smiled at each other.

Margaret and Frank glanced at each other, then turned toward Jeff. "Jeff, you didn't..."

Jeff just smiled and accepted a cup of coffee from Jennie. Sitting down at the head of the table, he said, "On the initial scan, she uses that blue beam, then will emit it from time to time, like she did while she was sitting on my injury. Most of the time, there isn't any visible light," he said.

Frank and Margaret made eye contact again, but as Frank opened his mouth to speak, Jeff said, "So, do you think you'll be able to get in touch with the person you were talking about who could direct us to a good mining engineer?"

Frank closed his mouth and looked at Jeff, who just grinned at him.

As the women finished with cleanup after breakfast, Diana called Evie aside. "Did I step across the line when I sat in your husband's lap?"

Evie looked shocked. "No. Of course not." After a pause, Evie continued, "Look, Diana, I'm not jealous of my husband and he isn't of me. We love each other and trust each other. He's had many opportunities to stray, and he hasn't. I supposed I have had opportunities as well, but it just doesn't cross my mind.

"I thought it was hilarious when you did that. Obviously, he was worried that Jeff would take it the wrong way, and probably worried about me as well. We all kid around here, and you got his attention about overworking, in a kidding way. Also, I was laughing because I'll just about bet that he was worried that he would get an erection with you sitting on his lap. I'll bet he figured he would really be in trouble then."

"Okay," Diana chuckled, "But I got to thinking, and I just wanted to tell you I was teasing, but he has been working too much, and I wanted to really let him know that we knew, and that we wanted him to stop. Also, I just sat on his legs; I didn't set on his groin. But I didn't know whether you knew that or not.

"And... , I was dead serious about the family thing. If we thought of your two as employees, you wouldn't be living here. We've liked you two from the start. Jeff never makes a mistake about what type of person someone is, and I certainly agree with him about you two. But I wanted to make sure that I hadn't overstepped, and hurt your feelings, or made you mad at me."

"Don't ever change, Diana. We love to kid, just like you do." Evie looked at Diana for a moment, "I would like to talk to you about something, sometime when we have the opportunity to sit down together for a while. I'd like your opinion."

"You're sounding serious now."

"Well, I guess I am serious, or it's a serious subject, but nothing is wrong. I just want to talk over something that I think you would have some good input on the subject."

"You're sure nothing is wrong, and you're not mad at me for my little escapade?"

"Absolutely," Evie said, hugging her. "Don't ever stop being you. We both enjoy living here. I swear I've laughed more in the last week — well except when Jeff was hurt — than I have for a long time. Now, I've got to run, but when we get the chance, I'd like for us to have that talk."

"Okay, girl," Diana said, heading toward their suite to get her equipment.

-------

Frank and Jeff stopped by the garage for ammunition and targets. As they loaded a four-wheeler, the construction crews began to arrive. Evie and Dave came out and were soon involved with the crew bosses.

"You never did show me the classrooms," Wainwright said, handing Jeff a case of 9 mm rounds.

"We won't need a whole case this morning, but it doesn't look like rain, so we can carry some extra and just leave it for this afternoon's practice," Jeff said, sitting the ammo on the back of the four-wheeler, then taking a box of targets from Frank and strapping them down with a bungee cord. "We'll take a look at the construction when we break, but according to Evie, it's mostly chaos up there right now."

"Yeah, I'll bet it is," Wainwright answered, then interrupted himself, motioning for Jeff to look toward the house.

The range construction crew boss was hollering at his men for standing around gawking as the women filed out past them. "Okay," he yelled, "If we get to it, we can finish the range by noon. Then we get to start working on the indoor range with a nice even seventy-two degrees, if you can manage to quit staring at the ladies and start working."

The crew headed for the range, but occasionally someone looked back over his shoulder as the women cranked up four-wheelers and headed toward the temporary range. Jeff and Wainwright, their four-wheeler confiscated by Jennie and Ann, grinned and buzzed along behind in the golf cart.

Diana volunteered to spend most of her time near Wainwright and Margaret to help with their nervousness at being interjected into the group of women that were ahead of them in the training. "Do you think they can catch up?" Diana quietly asked her husband as everyone serviced (loaded) their magazines with five rounds, ball and dummy.

"Not really," Jeff answered, his eyes never leaving the line. "The girls are smart, and full of enthusiasm. They'll be hard to beat in a few days. But just keep encouraging Frank and Margaret. They'll still have fun, and who knows, they might surprise us. But I'll just about guarantee that Arlene and Ann are going to be very hard to beat in a week or two. Their groups are tighter now than a lot of experienced officers I've known. They've got either a natural talent, or those brains of theirs are making the difference. At least they're smart enough to not brag on themselves to the other girls. Competition can be fine to a point, but it can produce some hard feelings, too."

Diana glanced at her daughter and Ann, who had finished servicing their three magazines and had come to parade rest, waiting on the others to finish. "I'm going to help Margaret and Frank. Looks like Margaret is getting frustrated. I saw her glance at Arlene."

"Tell her to take her time," Jeff said. "If she pushes trying to speed up, she'll be too uptight to concentrate on the basics. Then the others will really be ahead of her. I'll have a word with the rest of them to hold back a little until your two have practiced a little more."

Three hours later, they were all in the living room with soft drinks, laughing and cutting up about their latest training, when the phone rang. "Matthews residence. Yes sir, he is. Hold on a moment," Melissa said, handing the phone to Wainwright.

A couple of minutes later Frank returned the phone to its charger. The crew is just leaving Denver. They're going to stop for lunch, and should be here a little after one.

"How many are there?" Diana asked.

"Six," Wainwright responded, "But I've already reserved nice rooms for them in Winter Park. So don't let that worry you. And, yes, there certainly are plenty of rooms here, but this is your home now, and they know that."

"Well, we can provide lunch for them at least for the remaining time their here," Diana said, "And it should be us paying..."

"Hush, Diana," Margaret said, grinning. "Let the man have some fun. Besides, the company will wind up paying for this, and justifiably so, since a lot of it will be a first time install. They'll use this as a test, won't they Frank?"

"Absolutely," Frank said, warming to the subject. "Between the cliff, the boulders and the distance, this will be an excellent test of the equipment. If it works here, it should work most anywhere. They're going to try to circumvent the setup when they've completed the installation. If they can't defeat their own equipment, then we'll know that we have a damn good system. So far, it has worked superbly against all the jamming we've thrown at it, but there's nothing like a real world test."

"But I just ordered cameras and motion sensors for the base of the drive."

Frank sipped tentatively at the fresh, very hot cup of coffee that Jennie had just poured for him, then leaned against a table near the glass wall. Grinning at Jeff who had raised the recliner back up to take a sip of his own coffee, Wainwright continued, "Now don't get pissed at me Jeff," he admonished, "but I told the team to bring some more things with them. When we're through, it's going to be very, very hard for anyone to get within a half mile of the retreat without our knowing it, uh, excuse me," he laughed, "not the retreat, your house," he finished, chuckling. "And like I said, it's a good real-world test of some new equipment. We'll get to chase the bugs out of the system, and you will wind up with something a little ahead of 'state of the art.'"

Jeff started to object to Frank spending money on a security system for him, but thought better of it when Margaret caught his eye. Instead of objecting, he simply said, "Thanks Frank. Anything that you do to help protect my family is very much appreciated by all of us."

A look passed among the women and before he knew what was happening, Wainwright was being hugged by the girls, then the women. They weren't cutting him any slack either, he got a good frontal (titty) hug that had him blushing, and desperately trying to keep a lump from forming in his pants.

-------

As they continued their firearms training on the range, just before two o'clock, one of the workers yelled for Jeff. When he turned around, he saw two SUV's and a somewhat larger closed van pull into the parking area.

Frank, having noticed the vehicles, cleared his weapon, holstered it and stepped back to parade rest, but remained as if frozen, just looking over his shoulder. Grinning a little, Jeff told Diana to take over, then motioned for Frank to come with him.

"That's my crew," Frank said as he reached Jeff. "I've sketched out some plans, but we need to sit down together. They're also bringing some satellite photos and topographical maps that should help us with our decisions."

Jeff and Frank waved to Wainwright's crew, mounted their trusty buzz box and turned around. When they reached the parking area, six people — three men and three women — were waiting for them.

After introductions, Jeff said, "Let's go inside and sit down where we can discuss this in comfort. My wife fixed homemade doughnuts during our lunch break. Let's see if they are up to specs," he finished grinning, walking toward the door.

Jeff stopped and turned around when he realized that only the installation crew chief was following. Realizing what was going on, he turned to the group and said, "Let's get something straight, to use one of my many southernisms, while you're here, this house is to be treated as your home, all of you. As far as I'm concerned," he continued, "you're doing this as a favor to me. So let's all go find the doughnuts, and brew up a fresh pot of coffee or three. We'll talk details while we eat some of the best doughnuts on earth."

An hour later, they were buzzing back to the range. Wainwright grinned at Jeff. "I thought you might want to watch the crew get started."

Jeff chuckled, "Oh, I wanted to watch. But I don't like people looking over my shoulder when I'm working for someone. I figured they might feel the same way. What about you?"

"Oh, the temptation is there," Frank said, looking over at the range as they passed the crew putting on the finishing touches. "But I almost pushed myself into a heart attack a few years back, according to the doctors. One day I suddenly felt odd, got weak, then woke up in the hospital. I micromanaged until the stress almost killed me. I took that little trip to the hospital as a 'wake-up call, ' to use an overused expression. But it did wake me up, and I started delegating things — a lot of things. Even so, running the company is not nearly as much fun as it once was. We've grown to be too big for one man to manage everything, but I'm not complaining about that; the expansions have made a lot of money for me."

As Jeff pulled to a stop about twenty yards behind the firing line, Wainwright stepped off the golf card, then turned back to Jeff. "But you can bet your ass, we'll check up on the crew, later. I'm anxious to learn if my new equipment works as well here as it did in the tests. Now let's get back on that range. I've got a little catching up to do."

Jeff frowned, unsure how to word his response. "Frank, Diana and a couple of the girls..."

"... will always be able to shoot circles around me," Frank finished for him. As Jeff started to protest, Frank held his hand up a little to forestall him. "Arlene and Ann obviously have a gift. I haven't seen Diana shoot, but I doubt if she would be coaching us if she weren't damn good. But, Margaret and I are having more fun — even with the fucking pushups — than we have had in a long time. And we're not just going to roll over and admit defeat. We're both competitors, and whether we're having fun or not, we'll always do our absolute best."

Jeff, stepped out of the cart, laughed and slapped Wainwright on the back. In a few minutes, Frank was back on the line, but he earned ten pushups for talking on the firing line when he asked Margaret what had been happening while he was gone. Frustrated, but grinning, he dropped down nose to nose with Jeff as they did the pushups in unison.

"Alright," Jeff said to the group, when he and Frank were through, "charge three magazines with five rounds each. We're going to work on hot reloads. Instead of firing your weapon until its empty, you'll change magazines while there is still a live round in the chamber. In a gunfight, if the opportunity arises, you might want to put a full magazine in the weapon while you're safely behind cover, thus the hot reload. Pushups, if you don't keep accurate count of rounds fired. Learn to keep track no matter what else is happening.

"Later, when we work through the obstacle course, you'll have the opportunity to practice. The course will be set up so that you'll run low on ammo. If you don't change magazines at the appropriate time, your score will suffer. You might be surprised how much stress it will cause you when your buddy does it correctly and trounces you. Not to mention what you'll feel like when a target pops around, and your weapon is empty. Now's the time to learn."

Jeff stepped off twenty-five yards, then laid off a rough firing line and called them to him. When everyone had gathered around, he said, "Evie tells me we will be able to use the range tomorrow, so we'll learn to shoot from barricades at the twenty-five then. For now, Evie was nice enough to cut up several pieces of leftover carpet that we found in the basement. We'll use them," he said, demonstrating, "to lie on as we shoot prone. I might shoot from either of the two basic positions taught by the military and most police departments. The second position usually works better for women with larger breasts."

Jeff demonstrated the positions, "Ears on! The line is hot!" He fired five rounds from each position, changing magazines with the hot reload method, firing so fast it almost seemed like one continuous sound.

As Jeff holstered and cleared the line, Frank exclaimed, "Shit!"

Margaret had a small pair of binoculars she was passing around to the women. Although the .45 caliber holes were visible to the naked eye, the binoculars, of course, gave a much better view.

Diana didn't bother to look through the binoculars. She just stood there with an "I told you so," grin on her face.

Frank seemed unable to take his eyes off the three targets Jeff had shot. "Shit, Jeff, nobody can..."

Jeff stared hard at Wainwright. "Frank, you have a talent that makes you tons of money. You run a very large organization as if there's nothing to it. I would make a fool of myself in the first five minutes trying to do what you do with ease. My talent would, at best, make me what you would refer to as chump change. Although, it may have saved my life a time or two," he said, almost as an afterthought. "Most of us, if we look hard enough, will find something that we do really well. My talent just happens to be firing a handgun," he finished, dismissing as nothing that the "X" was completely gone on all three B-27 targets.

"Okay, everybody get a mat — weapons still secured in your holsters, and try out both the prone positions I just showed you. Diana and I will be around helping you. We're going to determine the correct position for each of you, then you'll practice going from a standing position to prone until you feel comfortable doing so. Then, you will practice drawing the weapon safely as you change positions. When Diana and I are certain you're able to change from standing to prone quickly and safely, we'll do some dry firing, then ball and dummy, and end the day with a little live firing from the prone position."

-------

Shortly before eight everyone dragged into the house, mentally and physically whipped. The women hung their gunbelts in the bedroom closet, washed up and went to the kitchen to prepare supper. As Jennie pushed the door open, she stopped, then walked on in, a smile starting on her face, soon to be copied by the rest of the women as they joined her.

Evie was in the process of setting a large platter of hamburger patties on the table as Dave set out plates, glasses and silverware. "We waited until we saw you guys start this way on the monitor," Evie said. "My fries probably aren't as good as you're accustomed to..."

Arlene hugged her. "Evie, you are so modest," she laughed, then went to the refrigerator for the tea.

Diana sat down at the table and picked up a french fry. Taking a bite, she teased, "I think they're actually better than mine." Then added, "I know darn well they are. I didn't have to cook them," she laughed.

After a short prayer of thanks, everyone ate, hungrily. They teased each other about flyers, broken nails, tired arms and the like, and Margaret and Frank joined in, giving as good as they got, while everyone built their hamburgers.

Note: A flyer is a round that strays outside the main group, caused by misalignment of sights, trigger jerk, flinch, etc.

Jeff sat back sipping his coffee, listening to his family expand unmercifully on their exploits and their "cruel" taskmaster.

"... and Frank almost caused me to have to do another set of pushups by blatantly asking me what had been happening while he was gone. I almost answered him on the firing line with Jeff looking straight at us. If I had answered you, Frank, you would be sleeping on the couch tonight," Margaret laughed, punching Wainwright lightly in the ribs.

"Well," Wainwright answered, "I'm used to being the boss. I can run my mouth any time I want. But I'll remember how it feels being on the other end, after this," he laughed. Sobering, he continued, "I might be a little more considerate in the labs when someone is trying to explain something to me. But I guess they'll never let me give them pushups the way Jeff does," he mused aloud.

"I can just see it now," Margaret said. "Frank standing at the head of the conference room table, 'All right, '" lowering the timbre of her voice to mock imitate Wainwright. "'project updates are due at eight A.M. sharp, Thursday. Anyone that turns in a late update will do twenty pushups in the main lobby at high noon with all the staff watching, '" she finished, sniggering.

Melissa refilled Jeff's cup as he discretely slipped a hand between her legs from behind to briefly caress her pussy while the bantering continued. She bit her lip and stifling a giggle, smiled at him, then went to put the pot back on the warmer as he watched the inviting sway of her pert little ass.

-------

The women had gone to the bedroom, while Jeff, Dave and Frank sat in the living room sipping beer and relaxing. Jeff took a sip, got an odd look on his face, and left for a few minutes. He came back with a glass of iced tea, and resumed his seat.

At Wainwright's quizzical expression, Jeff said, "I know Frank. I've always liked an occasional beer, although it has never been very high on my priority list, but I started to drink one a couple days ago, and about two sips into it, it suddenly tasted terrible. The same thing happened just then." After a moment, he added, "I'm beginning to think that the healer has something to do with it." Shrugging, he took a swallow of tea, half-expecting it to taste bad as well, but it didn't. "Oh, well, if she has an aversion to my drinking beer, I guess I can put up with it, after all, I wouldn't be here without her, or her momma," he finished, his expression darkening.

Wanting to change the subject, Dave asked, "What's this that Frank's been telling me about your putting five rounds into a target at twenty-five yards, with a group so small it practically looked like one hole, and firing so fast your gun sounded like a machine gun?"

"Well, the first thing I would say, is that Frank exaggerates."

"Not by fucking much," Frank broke in, and it was five rounds each on three targets.

"Before this gets any more out of proportion," Jeff said, "let me tell you about some of the truly great shooters. First off, what I did has been done many times. Before autoloaders took over, revolver matches from the fifty yard line were common, and a number of those matches are still held. They mostly used six inch barrel .38 caliber revolvers, and a lot of them used the old FBI one-handed stance. In that position, the shooter turned sideways to the target, extending the shooting hand as far from their body as they could. Shooting 'slow fire, ' many of them could put six rounds into a target with a group that you could cover with a fifty cent piece — at fifty yards.

"Then there was McGiven. He routinely fired five rounds into a palm-sized area at a distance of fifteen feet in two-fifths of a second. Another recorded time was nine twentieths of a second for five rounds with a half dollar size group at a distance of twenty feet. Another person, by the name of Munden — I can even give you the link for the video — fired six shots, reloaded and fired six more shots in two point nine nine seconds.

"Another trick by the same guy was firing eight rounds on four targets, two rounds per target, in one point zero six seconds. I've heard that he's in Genesis as drawing and firing a single action Colt .45 — self-start, in a little over two hundredths of a second, but I've never looked it up — and there is debate about the type of draw he used. I think the modern time with reaction time considered is about point two five seconds.

"There are many others with times from two hundredths to five hundredths of a second for self-start. I don't know who was the best, or is presently the best — if there is one. As I said, there's a lot of debate about method of draw, and differences in contests. Some have to draw and shoot balloons, or other targets, while others just have to draw and fire. The point being, that there were and are, a good many people that follow the Cowboy Action shooting, or whatever the particular club is called, that are extremely fast.

Note: The self-start that Jeff is referring to is a method where the shooter holds a start button down with a finger of his gun hand. When he releases the button to start his draw, the timer starts, and stops when the weapon fires, or after a series of rounds fire. This eliminates reaction (response) time, indicating only the time it takes the shooter to draw and fire the round, or series of rounds. But there are ways to "fudge" this time by rotating the hip as the gun is being held, just as the button is being released. This rotation with a canted holster starts the weapon out of the holster before the button is released. To counter this, the button is frequently required to be six inches away from the holster, which means that the shooter can't have his hand on the button and gun at the same time, eliminating any "cheating," and giving a more realistic draw time.

"An FBI agent by the unlikely name of 'Jelly' Bryce was every bit as good. Many years ago, Life Magazine did an article on him showing sequential photos of him dropping a silver dollar from shoulder height, drawing a large frame .357 magnum revolver with the same hand, and shooting the coin at waist height. You can't get better documentation than that, at least for that time period. And Bryce shot well, to understate, in combat. He's documented as having killed nineteen bad guys during his career. Each one of them had drawn a weapon on him before he even drew his gun. Instead of a SWAT team, they called Bryce. It was considered suicide to go up against him.

"I could continue, Bill Jordan, Annie Oakley, and others, not to say anything about current Cowboy Action shooters. There were, and still are many who are truly gifted. I have a talent, but it's only a talent. Most of these people, if not all, had phenomenal vision as well. Several of them said they could see the bullet in flight, and since some of them shot coins, or even aspirins out of the air, who's to say they couldn't. In another category, Chuck Yeager, the world renowned test pilot, could see a fighter aircraft from fifty miles away."

"And, can you see a bullet in flight?" Frank quietly asked.

Jeff took a sip of tea and pushed the recliner back. After a moment, he said, "A lot of firearm instructors can tell where the student's rounds are going when they're firing a handgun from the twenty-five, by standing directly behind the shooter and looking just over and a little to the right of the weapon as it fires. Particularly on a high humidity day, if you know what you're looking for, you can see the disturbance in the air as the bullet goes downrange."

Frank and Dave glanced at each other. Both knew that Jeff had avoided answering the question, and they knew what that answer would be. "Shit," Frank said under his breath.

Evie, Melissa and Margaret walked in, each carrying one of the shakes. Wainwright grinned at Margaret. "I'm too old for this."

Margaret, ignoring him, handed the shake to him. "You have had a night off, and besides, you know darn well that Jeff used the healer on us. You've been so full of energy that you've been teasing us all day. So don't even start with the 'old man' routine. Just drink the shake and get ready to do your duty," she finished, not bothering to hide a snigger as she and the other women turned and strutted out.

Soon, all three men were watching television with their eyes closed.

-------

Quietly Jeff untangled himself from the women, made his way to the foot of the bed, then went into the closet to get a running outfit. Once dressed, he walked back through the bedroom to pick up the healer from the bedside table. As he leaned over, he realized that Helen's eyes were open. Unsure of how much she could see in the dim light, he touched his lips to hers and whispered, "Go back to sleep pretty lady. The healer and I are going to visit Margaret and Frank, again."

She smiled at him, quietly said, "I love you," then closed her eyes.

A few minutes later, Jeff slowly turned the doorknob on Frank and Margaret's suite, wondering whether they were asleep or not. As the bed and its occupants came into view, he froze. Although there were only two weak sources of light in the room — night-lights on opposite walls — his eyes quickly adjusted.

Frank had been kissing Margaret, apparently trying to awaken her. "Oh, Frank. I'm really sleepy, Baby, and you've already fucked me twice."

"Come on, Hon. The shake was your idea, and my dick is up again. It's so damn hard I can't sleep. Just get on your hand and knees. I want some tail pussy. All you've got to do is stick your ass in the air; I'll do the rest. I've got to get my rocks off again."

Jeff knew he should leave, but the only time (other than videos, or porn movies) he had seen others fucking was at his old house in the playroom when he was setting up the cameras. He remembered getting an erection, but the trauma of seeing his wife fucking another man, with the anger and the sick feeling that had accompanied the experience, had overridden almost everything else.

The room was dark behind him, and the bedroom was large — there was little chance of being discovered if he remained quiet. Slowly, he sat down and relaxed against the wall, leaving the door open just enough to see well. Frank stood behind a sleepily grumbling Margaret on her hands and knees with her ass near the side of the bed.

Frank's dick was so hard, he had to push down on it in order to line it up with her pussy. He shoved to the bottom with one stroke.

"Oh, shit, Frank. Take it easy; I'm sore."

Wainwright leaned forward, bringing both hands to her swinging breasts. Caressing, and gently pulling on her swollen nipples, made so by his sucking and pulling on them earlier, it wasn't long until she pushed back at him as he stroked into her.

"Oh, Frank. That feels good. I swear your dick is bigger."

"It probably is, a little," Frank acknowledged, letting her breasts go and grasping her hips, "It's been a long time since it has gotten as hard as it has tonight. The more blood that pumps into it, the bigger it gets," he laughed. He stroked into her, then bending his knees a little, he changed the angle, continuing to slam into her. The slap, slap, slap of their bodies coming together was accompanied by Margaret's grunts as he hit bottom.

The couple fucked for a quarter hour, Frank varying the angle, speed and force, while Margaret had multiple orgasms, her breasts bouncing and swaying. "Oh, shit. I'm getting there," Frank exclaimed, his tempo increasing. Wrapping his arms around her belly, he pulled her hard against him, almost lifting her off the bed. At a furious rate, he slammed into her and groaned, then held still, pumping his seed into his vice president. With a faint cry, Margaret squirmed her ass against his groin, pressing her cervix against his spurting cock. After a few seconds, she collapsed onto her face, her breathing almost as harsh as Frank's as he fell beside her chuckling and gasping for air.

"Hot damn, woman, that pussy was good," he managed to say.

Margaret, feeling his cum running out of her abused center, stroked his chest lovingly, twirling the hair around her finger. After a few minutes, she wiggled around into position and pulled the sheet over her shoulders, holding it up for Frank to lie beside her. Almost instantly, they fell into an exhausted sleep, Margaret too tired to care about the sperm drooling out of her pussy onto the bed.

Jeff grinned as the couple slept, his own cock hard as a rock. Waiting a few more minutes to be certain they were deeply asleep, he pushed the door open and entered the bedroom. Gently pulling the sheet away from Wainwright's chest, he placed the healer, then retreated to the corner to catnap until she told him she wanted to be put on Margaret.

Later, Jeff retrieved the healer and placed her on his shoulders, under his shirt. Feeling her spreading out over his upper back, he went back into the hallway.

{{{ Amusement. }}}

Oh, what's so funny? he thought.

To his amazement, the healer responded with thoughts that were almost as clear as if they were spoken. {{{ The human mating process is...  (Jeff couldn't make out what she meant)... and they have no intention of producing young. }}}

Well, my wives and I have sex, fuck, or make love — whatever you want to call it — every night without trying to reproduce. Do you find that amusing, too?

{{{ Certainly. Why else do you think I wanted to be left near the bed? }}}

Jeff chuckled at the admission, then after thinking for a moment, asked, Why am I able to understand you so much better? I can understand most of what you projected; some of it almost sounds like spoken words inside my mind.

The healer hesitated as Jeff continued on down the hall, then in a jumble, projected a series of ideas that coalesced into: {{{ My primary purpose is healing. All my faculties have been focused on that while you were injured. Prior to that, you kept me secluded from you and your mates except for occasional healing duties. I had little opportunity to learn to communicate, other than the use of the rudimentary faculties built into me. But I have learned to extend my capacities in order that I might communicate with a non-telepathic being.

I have learned much during your exercise in the mornings and while remaining in contact with you throughout your training of the others yesterday. I have also adapted my body to the point where I can spread out over your shoulders until others of your kind will not notice me under your clothing. I am continuing to bring your body and mind into the full capabilities that is your birthright. }}}

Jeff stopped by the door to the suite, thinking. And what is this "birthright?"

{{{ Your mates have referred to it as "Alpha Male." That term, though limiting, will suffice. None of your species that I have been near has the latent abilities that you possess. Though most of your abilities have lain dormant, or in some cases, near dormant, I have activated some of them, and will activate more as time goes by and as your body and mind develop. }}}

Jeff wasn't quite sure what to think about that, so after a moment, he went on into the suite, collected his pistol and holster, strapped them on. Stopping in the kitchen, he got a long drink of water before going out the back door. It was cooler this morning, with an occasional gust of wind. Once away from the outside lights, he noticed there was thick cloud cover.

Almost like the grizzly morning he thought, a chill going down his back. I hope that fucker doesn't have a buddy in the area, or a pissed-off mate. I doubt if I'll ever pass that section of road on my run without thinking about that bear. That old adage about once burned, twice shy sure seems to apply to me today,  he mused as he made the first switchback on the drive.

Realizing how well he could see, although he was well past the house lights, he tried to force his mind into forming the concise concepts he realized worked better with the healer. Having asked before but not received an answer, he tried again. Little One, there isn't any moonlight or starlight getting through that cloud cover. Is my night vision better, or is it just my imagination?

{{{ Smugness. }}}

Proud of yourself, aren't you?

{{{ Your body is far less complicated than those of the race who created me, but even so, your eyesight, though it does not encompass as wide a spectrum as that of my creators, can be enhanced until it will exceed theirs in certain aspects. I have been growing new receptors in your eyes that are capable of much finer visual acuity. A side effect of this is a much better light gathering ability. I started this process several weeks ago (if I understand your time keeping method), and it will continue for some time yet. I suspect your eyesight was far better than most of your species before I started the process. When it is complete, your eyesight will be superior to what you are now experiencing. }}}

But why me? Why did you pick me that day as I walked by?

There was a delay in response from the healer, then: {{{ The minds of the others were jumbled, and not very strong. Although, we could communicate in only a very rudimentary way, it was obvious that your mind was different, stronger. I used the simple process of healing the cut on your arm in order that you would know what my purpose was, and still is. I, and the others like me, were created to heal, but not to heal your species. My creators provided only knowledge and abilities associated with the healing of their own race. I have managed to expand my mental abilities beyond their original design.

Your small cut and the bones of your mate's ankle were simple for me to correct, and they allowed me to begin the investigation of your bodies' processes. I was quickly able to determine most of the interconnections which allow your bodies to live and function. Many of those interconnections and systems were not performing as they were obviously intended, so I immediately began to make corrections in order that they might do so. }}}

Then we began to look younger, and my body grew three inches,  Jeff interrupted as the miles slipped beneath his feet.

{{{ Yes. There are other areas and systems with your brain and body that are either dormant or atrophied. Some of these can not be restored quickly, if at all. I must first understand them. Others, I do understand, since they are similar to those of the race who designed me, but I must teach your brain to use these new functions. Also, a large portion of your brain is not being utilized; the same thing is true regarding your mates', and the others with whom you have put me in contact. I have already begun to reestablish some of the dormant functions, in you, and to a lesser degree, in your spouses, and I should be able to bring more of your brain into active use in the future. The atrophied areas offer little more than speculation at the moment, except that one area seems to be associated with your ability to hypothesize about near future events. I must go slowly with this, but my study continues. }}}

The healer seemed reluctant to say anything else, so Jeff just let his mind drift as he continued on down the mountain.

A while later, he made his turnaround and started back toward home as thunder rumbled in the distance. As he neared the Sperman's drive, he met them coming out in their SUV.

Stopping beside him, Steven lowered the window and said, "Well, hi there, neighbor. You're out early."

"Look who's talking," Jeff laughed.

Marcie leaned over toward her husband in order to better see Jeff through the driver's window. "We're going to visit friends in Denver, and well, you know about old folks. We tend to get up early. We thought we would stop and have breakfast in Winter Park on the way."

"We just did the same thing a couple of days ago," Jeff answered. "The breakfast thing, I mean. By the way, we took your advice and got the plow you recommended."

"Marcy and I were outside when you came by. We got a glimpse of your rig through the trees. Nice truck."

"Well, I've got the equipment, but what I know about plowing out a road could be written in one short paragraph. I might be asking more questions when the snows come."

Steve laughed as he dropped the vehicle into gear. "The only thing you've got to worry about is staying on your driveway," Steve said, chuckling. "But we'll be glad to help if you need us."

"Tell Arlene we said hi," Marcy said, as they pulled away.

Jeff resumed his run. They're nice people, but I'll bet they wouldn't be quite as nice to me if they knew Arlene was lying in bed with my sperm in her pussy right now.

Thinking about that was making his dick swell, running or not. He concentrated on pushing to make up for the time he had lost, and trying to outrun the rain that he knew was about to hit. He didn't make it. He normally walked the last two or three hundred yards for a cool-down. In the downpour, he kept up his pace until he was much closer to the house.

By the time he walked into the mudroom and removed his wet shoes, he was shivering from the cold rain. As he entered the kitchen a little before six, Helen was placing a cup of coffee at his place at the table.

"Boy, that looks good, Helen. That rain is like ice," he said, putting his belt with the inside holster with the .45 in it, on the counter.

Boswell grabbed a couple of dish towels, threw them on the table and pulled at Jeff's shirt. "Let's get this off. Your skin is cold."

"I'm okay. I've run in cold rain before."

Boswell was having none of it. She pulled the tee-shirt over his head, tossed the shirt on the counter and handed him one of the towels. "Dry your hair and turn around."

As he did, she dried his back and legs, then his front. When she finished drying the front of his legs, kneeling in front of him, she grinned and jerked his shorts down. Before he could say anything, she took the head of his cold dick into her warm mouth. Jeff groaned and was almost instantly hard.

"Oh, crap, Helen, I want to do this, but Dave and Evie are bound to be here any minute," he said, pulling her to her feet and kissing her. He had barely gotten his shorts pulled up before Evie came through the door and froze, Dave bumping into her.

"Oops," she said, grinning. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Yes," Boswell sweetly said, pushing the towel into Jeff hand so that he could hide his erection. "I just managed to get that wet shirt off him. He says he has run in cold rain before, but I think he needs to get out of the rest of those wet clothes and take a hot shower. So mind your teacher," she finished to Jeff, a knowing smile on her face, "and get that shower before you catch a cold," but she knew her face had changed color because of the heat she felt on her cheeks.

Boswell, winked at Evie, and said, "Good morning, Dave. And how is our favorite contractor team this morning?" as Jeff greeted Dave and Evie, then left for his shower.

Evie hugged Boswell and whispered, "Way to go," then grabbed a couple of cups for coffee.

As the rest of the wives filed in, then Wainwright and Margaret, Helen fixed Jeff's coffee and her own, passed a look with Diana, who smiled at her, then casually walked out of the busy kitchen carrying both cups.

She caught up with Jeff as he turned the shower on.

"Want a sip of this to help warm up before you shower?"

Seeing the look on Jeff's face, she continued. "Oh, I know that I didn't fool anyone. But you made love to me for the last two nights, and I'm not going to act like a virgin this morning. I'm far too sore to do anything..."

Jeff kissed her, causing her to slosh the coffee. He laughed, took the cup from her and sipped, grinning at her as the blush crept from her neck onto her face, but she looked him in the eye and sipped her own coffee. She took both cups, the coffee barely touched, and put them in the vanity area.

Returning, she stripped her clothes off as Jeff dropped his running shorts. Her hair was still fairly wet from her laps, as she chuckled and hugged him. "I had the most wonderful time the last two nights. I can't believe that we made love so soon after only knowing you for such a short time. But, it seemed right. I still don't see why you would want to make love to an old woman, let alone want to marry me?"

Jeff interrupted. "Because you're beautiful and I love you, as do all my wives, silly."

Helen hugged him, then said into his chest as she continued to hold him, the water pouring down on them, "I still can't see it, but I also appreciate you're being so gentle with me. I don't know whether I'll ever be able to take you fully, but I'm going to try. But despite your being so gentle, I'm still very sore. Also, my period has started."

At Jeff's concerned look, she laughed, leaning up to kiss him. "It's a good sore. It tells me that I finally made love again."

"Helen, I wish you would quit with the 'old woman' routine. I've already made you look in the mirror. Even if the healer hadn't taken some of the years off, you would still be a very beautiful woman. I was very impressed when I first saw you sitting at that table in the restaurant. And now that I've seen that gorgeous body of yours without any clothing to distract, I'm even more impressed. I just can't understand how anyone with an intellect like yours can have an inferiority complex. You're as bad a Laura about... oh, shit," he sighed as she dropped to her knees and took the head of his cock into her warm mouth.

Helen teased his balls with the nails of one hand while she pulled on the base of his cock with the other hand, running her thumb along the bottom of his shaft. Her cheeks hollowed as she varied her sucking, occasionally pulling back and curving her tongue around the underside of his cock to stimulate the sensitive area at the base of the head.

Pulling back for a second, she looked up into Jeff's eyes. "I asked Diana if I could do this, and she said it was a great idea."

Before Jeff could respond, she redoubled her efforts, obviously wanting him to finish in her mouth. He leaned against the wall, grabbed a handrail for support and gave himself over to the wonderful feeling of having this beautiful woman sucking so exquisitely on his dick.

It wasn't long before Helen was struggling to swallow fast enough.



-------

Chapter 19

As Jeff and Helen walked down the hall toward the kitchen, Jeff tightened his arm around her. "Stop worrying pretty lady. They may tease the heck out of us, but they won't mean any harm..."

She glanced up at him and tightened her arm around his waist. "Oh, I know, but I'm sure they know what we did in the shower, because we were gone so long. I just meant to give you a quick... blow job. I didn't mean for you to make love to me again. I'm not really concerned, but you can bet that I will blush when we walk through that door. Jeff, I didn't expect you to do anything for me this morning; you knew I was on my period. I..."

Laughing, Jeff stopped them and looked over at her, "Baby, you just had a shower. All I did was kiss you clit and pussy. That's what tampons are for," he teased.

She grinned up at him in spite of herself. "Well, I really thought their purpose was a little different, but... Oh, it's just... well, my husband used to be grossed out and... I didn't expect you to do that. When you picked me up and I tried to stop you, I became very excited, just like the other night when you picked me up out of my living room. I had so many orgasms that I know it shows on my face, and we were gone a long time..."

Jeff spun her around. Kissing her, then gently stroking her face with the back of his hand, he continued, "Don't worry about what anyone thinks. My wives will be glad of it — are glad of it, because you can bet that they knew exactly what we were doing, while we were doing it. And you're right. Everyone else probably figured out what was going on after we didn't come back in a reasonable time. But you know that my wives will be tickled about it.

"And, I'll bet that after breakfast Margaret drags Franks off, and I wouldn't be surprised if Evie and Dave disappear for a while, either, if they haven't already. You can't seem to realize that you're a beautiful and very sexy woman. You can bet that the guys were thinking how lucky I was. Evie, Dave, Margaret and Frank are all nice people. They don't think anything bad about you. And... by the way," he said, gently tweaking her nose, "I love you.

"Now let's go get that aborted breakfast, then figure out what we're going to do today, since it was, and I assume still is, raining cats and dogs." Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand, and pulling her, took off at a run for the kitchen. When they burst through the door, laughing, Margaret, Diana and Laura had just finished with all the cleanup that they could and still have everything prepped to make Jeff and Helen's breakfast.

Before Helen could say anything, the women gathered around her, each hugging and kissing her. "You looked sexy," Margaret said. "Evie and Dave had urgent business in their apartment as soon as breakfast was over. And if I hadn't taken pity on Frank — since he's already done his duty this morning — we would have had some of that same business to take care of," she laughed.

"Okay," Diana said, glancing at her husband. "It looks like our man is trying to tell us that he's hungry. I guess we had better feed him, and we might have saved a little for you too," Helen, Diana teased.

-------

A little later, Jeff, Dave and Wainwright sat in the living room discussing the projects as the rain beat against the glass wall. One hard gust slammed rain into the window with enough force to be heard even through the thick glass. As they all glanced at the window, Jeff said, "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you how you managed to get that huge piece of glass up this mountain. That thing is too big to call a picture window. 'Window' just doesn't seem to describe it. I just call it the glass wall."

Wainwright downed the last of his coffee. "I'm embarrassed to say how much that glass cost me, not to say anything about getting it here, or the installation cost. I had it flown from the factory straight to the retreat. Then the real fun started — getting it installed. I was so uptight that I finally decided to just leave. Well, actually," he said a little sheepishly, "Margaret suggested that I get out of everyone's way. When Dave here called to say the glass was in, I was just sure he was going to say that they had broken it, but they didn't even put a scratch on it," he grinned, glancing at Dave.

"I didn't do much. I hired a special crew for the installation. I don't know how much the glass itself cost, but that crew certainly wasn't cheap."

"Whatever the cost, it certainly went a long way toward making a beautiful living room. And with all the color in the trees now, it makes for a wonderful view to go along with the room," he smiled.

Wainwright looked at Jeff. "I called the hotel and told the installation crew to take the day off. They can't do anything in this weather, other than some inside work," he said, nodding at the rain.

Dave refreshed his coffee, then when Frank and Jeff held their cups out, refilled theirs as well. "At least the outside range is done, just in time. Evie had already moved all the materials into the basement for the classrooms, so there isn't any problem with the rain as far as that goes. The falls and ventilation system for the indoor range are supposed to be here Friday, and we should be ready for their tech to come out Monday to help us with their part of the installation.

"And if it's all right with you two," Dave continued, "I think I'll go with the engineering firm we used for this place. He claims to have a team that is capable of doing what we want." Looking at Wainwright, he said, "I flew up to Saint Louis to talk to the guy that you recommended, Frank, or the one that someone recommended to you. Anyway, I had set up a meeting with him after telling him generally what I needed. When I got there, on time, he kept me waiting for thirty minutes. His secretary said he was in a meeting. Then when I did get to talk to someone, it was a subordinate who said he would have to check with Coston, almost every time I asked a question. When I insisted on talking with Coston, this guy kept telling me Coston was in a meeting.

"I finally just walked out, only to find Coston with his feet propped up on a desk talking to a gorgeous blond while she sat at her computer. It didn't look like a conference to me; it looked like a makeout session. He didn't even have the courtesy to acknowledge my presence. The only reason I knew it was him, is that his secretary pointed him out to me. I don't think she's very impressed with her boss."

Wainwright frowned. "I should have known better. That recommendation just didn't feel right. I'm sorry I caused you a trip for nothing. Timbrook and I are going to have a talk when I get back. I was suspicious of a brother-in-law deal when he first mentioned this firm. But what about the flight? I didn't even know you were gone. I did miss you for a couple of meals, though. Did you use my plane?"

Dave took a sip of coffee, wondering where Wainwright was going with the question. "No. I booked a commercial. Round trip. Up one day, back the next afternoon."

"Damn. You should have used the company plane. It would have been a lot more pleasant. From now on, if you need to go anywhere in relation to this project, just have Jeff call the pilot. Fuck, with the money Jeff is putting into this, you might as well go in style. Plus, you wouldn't have had to wait for the next day. The plane would have flown you straight back after the meeting, if you had wanted to come back the same day."

Dave glanced at Jeff, who just raised an eyebrow. "Well, anyway, I've got Fierson and his people coming out tomorrow to do a preliminary feasibility study — that's what he called it — then they're to get back with me within a week.

"They sure didn't treat me like the other outfit. I got there five minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start. His secretary ushered me into a conference room where Fierson and two of his top people were waiting for me. I had a cup of coffee in my hand, refreshments in front of me, and they were making copies of Jeff's sketch and requirements by the time the meeting was supposed to have started.

"I guess I was still pissed, and mentioned how I had been treated in Saint Louis. Fierson named the company, instantly, and said that rumor had it there were two lawsuits pending against them."

"Oh, shit," Frank said, under his breath, a frown deepening his brow.

Jeff, seeing the frown, spoke up. "Frank, you told us you didn't know anything about the outfit, that it was just a recommendation from one of your suppliers. Don't sweat it."

"Yes," Wainwright quietly said, "but... I buy a lot from that supplier, and playing me for a fool wasn't a wise thing to do," he said, his face serious.

"Remember now," Dave broke in. "All I know about them is that I got the runaround instead of the meeting we had scheduled. They may be a reliable company for all I know, but then again, I seriously doubt it."

Jeff cleared his throat, "Better that we found out beforehand, rather than halfway through the job. Don't either one of you sweat it. We lost a couple days of Dave's time..."

Before they had a chance to continue, Diana and Laura walked in. Both went over to Jeff and lightly kissed him. "We've got to go into Denver and pick up Helen's dress this morning, Husband. I know you said that you didn't want us to go anywhere without you because of Hagewood..."

"No. I'll go with you. We can't let our guard down. Not until he turns up and the cops get him back into jail. But does the trip have to be today?"

Diana and Laura looked at each other, then in unison said, "Yes, Dear. You've got to make an honest woman out of Helen." Then they both cracked up.

"We'll be ready in forty-five minutes," Diana said over her shoulder as they left the room, shoulders back, hips swaying.

Wainwright was laughing. "They had that rehearsed well. They were perfectly in sync."

"Don't bet on it being rehearsed," Dave said, laughing himself. "They do that all the time."

"What drives me nuts," Jeff sighed, "is when one says half a sentence, and another one completes it — without a break or hesitation. Sometimes they go around the table doing it, just to rattle my cage. It sets my teeth on edge. And if I make any comment about it — they just do it again."

Frank grinned, not really believing Jeff, instead he asked as they stood, "Where do you get all those expressions?"

"Well, I found this place on the internet..."

"Bull shit," Dave laughed. "It's the redneck in him, according to Diana."

"Yeah, but I'm proud of it," Jeff said, slapping Dave on the back as they left the living room going their separate ways, all laughing.

As Wainwright entered their suite, Margaret was changing. "See something you like?" she teased as she stepped into her panties.

Frank walked over, grabbed her around the waist, hugged her to him, and soundly kissed her. Feeling the bulge against her belly, she pushed back so she could look him in the face. "We've had more sex since we've been here than we've had in the last several months. Being here with these people beats a vacation in Hawaii any day," she laughed.

Frank grinned at her, gently tweaking a nipple. "Well, the combination of excellent company, that healer of Jeff's, plus Laura's shakes, have stirred this old boy up." Checking out her breasts, he continued, "Not to mention that fantastic body of yours. Your breasts are beautiful. And that ass of yours," he said popping her with his palm, "is as tight as a drum."

Margaret squeaked and jumped away from him. Picking up her bra, she slipped into it, then turned her back for him to fasten the catch. "Diana printed out an instruction sheet for a variation of some Kegel exercises, plus a little secret that goes with it, that she says will allow me to strengthen my pussy muscles until you will think I'm a virgin. You had better behave if you want me to try them."

Frank wisely didn't say anything about the exercises, knowing he had better skirt that minefield. Instead, he said, "I assume you're going shopping with Diana and the others?"

Margaret grinned at him as she sat on the bed to pull her hose on, knowing he had failed to respond to the Kegel comment. "Yeah. Even Evie is going. I need a dress for the wedding, and so does Evie. The suit you brought should be just fine, but I think you should go with us, as well. Dave is going to stay in case either of his foremen need him, since Evie won't be here. He said he had some paperwork to do. But I think you should go to keep Jeff company, if nothing else."

"I guess I can do that..."

"Put on one of your new western outfits. Those boots turn me on."

Laughing, Frank slipped off his shoes and shirt, then dropped his pants. Unexpectedly, Margaret knelt in front of him. Expertly fishing his cock out of his shorts, she sucked him hard, hollowing her cheeks and looking up at him.

"Ummm, Baby that feels wonderful, but everybody is going to be waiting on us. And you know that as old as I am, I can't get my rocks off very fast. I uhmmm... Oh, shit, Honey that feels good..."

A couple of minutes later, Margaret made a liar out of him when his cock spurted into her mouth. Laughing, and trying to swallow at the same time, she finished, then kissed the head of his deflating cock before standing. "What was that about being too old to get your rocks off quickly?" she teased as a wobbly-kneed Wainwright sat down hard on the bed.

Getting his breath back, and after kissing and hugging her, Frank took some of his new western clothes out of the closet. Pulling his shirt on, looking at her in the mirror as she repaired her lipstick, he commented, "If Jeff figures out how to make a few thousand of those healers, we're all going to be rich."

Margaret laughed, tossing the lipstick into her small purse. "Be rich. Hell, Frank, you're rich enough now to wallpaper this whole place in hundred dollar bills. Screw selling the healer. I would just like to have one of my own. I'm looking younger than I have in ten years, and my breasts have lost almost all their sag. And something has — what's the expression — put lead in your pecker. Yes, that's what my grandmother used to say," she finished as Frank pulled on a pair of western jeans. "Here, better put these heavier socks on with those new boots," she said, tossing a new pair onto the bed. "And wear your new hat."

"Ah, Margaret, I bought that thing because you wanted me to. I don't wear hats, let alone a western one."

"Put that Stetson on," she teased pinching his ass. "I like the way it looks on you."

A few minutes later, they met Jeff and the others in the hallway. "Where in the heck did you get that thing?" Jeff teased, indicating Frank's hat.

"At the same place you did," Frank laughed, glancing at an almost identical hat on Jeff's head. "Somehow, I don't think our wearing these hats was just a spur-of-the-moment thing."

"Now you know how I feel," Jeff grinned as they all got umbrellas and the group went out the back. "At least they let us think we're in charge some of the time."

"Oh, listen to the man whine," Laura laughed as they dashed for the vehicles. "Six women aren't enough for him."

"Yeah, but we're going to fix that for him Friday night," Diana yelled as she yanked her door open, fighting to keep her umbrella from turning wrong-side-out as a gust of wind caught it.

"If he doesn't kill me in the process," Helen chimed in, although her face was red.

Laughing at the teasing, Jeff called to Frank, "Come on, you can ride with me," he said, heading for the truck. After hitting the remote, he and Frank got in, then shook the water from their umbrellas out the open doors. Shortly Arlene, Jennie and Melissa, did the same thing as they scrambled into the back seat, slamming the doors against the deluge of wind-driven rain.

"I thought you would take the Expedition, or the other Escalade," Frank commented as they checked to see that the rest of the women were in the other vehicle.

"Oh, I would have," Jeff said, backing out and turning around, then waiting for the women's vehicle to begin moving before he started around the drive heading for the switchbacks. "I need to pick up the ammo I ordered, and the rest of the Glocks. I think it would be okay to drop the women off at the store, then go to the gun shop while they're getting their dresses. I want to keep a sharp eye out for anyone following us, though, and if you'll help with that, I would appreciate it."

Wainwright glanced back at the Escalade, then said, "It looks like the cops could catch this guy, if he's such a badass."

Jeff, thinking that the colonel's people hadn't found Hagewood, either, answered, "I wondered about that myself, but then again, the cops probably have a lot more to do than spend much time looking for a person who's only threatening someone. Although he did kill two guys in a bar fight, he got by on a technicality and a good lawyer. But, despite that, I'm feeling more and more that someone high up is protecting him, for some reason. And don't forget the signature bond when it wasn't authorized. From what the sergeant said, this guy is notorious for vendettas — and that he won't forget, and will 'get even.'"

Frank didn't say anything for a moment, glancing around at the clouds and rain. "This stuff will be coming down in another month or so — but it will be white then. You should probably start thinking about preparing for that. Just saying that you can get two or three hundred inches of snow in a season doesn't tell the whole story. I had the conference center built with the first floor well above ground level, even in the back, for a reason other that having the windows out of the reach of bears. Snow really piles up. Even with the extra height, there were times when we had trouble opening the back door, the drifts were so high. With the wind blowing like it is today, you can have whiteout conditions that make it virtually impossible to drive even with this truck and the snowplow. You've got to be able to see to drive, and when the wind starts blowing the dry snow around, you can't see a thing."

"I've heard of whiteouts," Jeff said as they pulled out onto the county road, "but I confess, I never thought about them here. Shit, Frank. We need to talk about this. My Georgia background could get my family killed because I don't know enough about this area. Oh, I've had a few trips to Chicago and New York when there was snow, even driven in it a good many times, but that doesn't compare to what you're describing."

"Ah, chances are you would notice at the house and figure it out before you went anywhere and got caught out in it. The edge of the driveway is already lined with markers that are ten feet tall, tipped with reflectors, as you obviously know. After the first winter, I doubled the number of markers. I have some other ideas about the driveway that might appeal to you. But I was mainly referring to getting caught on the county or even the state road during one of the whiteouts.

"You need to be prepared to survive if you should get stranded — clothing — warm clothing — parkas that reach below you knees, snowmobile outfits, food, etc. Most people who die while stranded could have been saved if they had only prepared properly. We had a couple of near misses when people were coming up here during the winter. The place is, indeed, beautiful, and for the ones of us that used it regularly, it was fine. But when I started bringing people up here that weren't familiar with the area — well, let's just say that I was lucky.

"I had already intended to come down and have a talk with you before I got all excited about your run-in with the bear and you not being able to come to the phone. I wasn't going to just leave you on this mountain without telling you some of the things that could happen," he finished, glancing back at the women's vehicle, again.

Jeff, looking thoughtful, didn't say anything, just followed the winding county road on down the mountain.

-------

The flight office of Wainwright, Inc. was located at the airport, fifteen miles from the company. Buried behind the airport corporate offices, it consisted of one fairly large room, three closets, and one unisex bathroom. The office was well appointed with three nice desks (the corner desk larger than the others), a computer on each desk, chairs and filing cabinets, and unusual for most offices, three leather recliners. A large picture of an F-14 Tomcat, vapor streaming from its wingtips as it pulled high g's, adorned the wall behind Captain Madison's corner desk.

A break area in one corner contained a refrigerator, sink, cabinets, microwave and a coffee maker. In short, the office was designed to be functional as well as containing everything that a flight crew might generally need as they waited for their next flight.

Captain Madison sat back, relaxed, his feet on his desk. Hanging up the phone, he looked at copilot David Oakland, and flight attendant Kathy Arnold as they sat at their desks. "Okay, that was Ray Tingle. He's in charge while Mr. Wainwright is on vacation. He says he doesn't think they will need the plane before Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, unless something unexpected comes up. So we can stand down, but... we're still on call. As usual, make sure you have your company cell with you, and you can be here within an hour, if need be."

Oakland spun his chair around to directly face Madison. "This is bullshit. This 'stand down' crap. We're either working, or we're not. No matter what I do, I've got to stay within an hour of this place. Why can't they just say that we're off until Tuesday, or whenever?"

Kathy started shutting down her computer. Glancing at Oakland, she said, "Hey, we're getting paid, anyway. What's the big deal? And we do this a lot. Why're you getting upset now? Last week we made two trips to Hawaii, and what — five — practically all over the continental U.S. If I remember correctly," she said, teasing, "you were griping about never having any time off..."

"Well, you may not mind kissing the big shot's ass, but I do," he snarled.

"Mr. Oakland," Captain Madison said with great emphasis. Then turning to Kathy, he continued, "Kathy, would you please..."

"Sure," she said, standing and picking up her purse. "I need to run by the mall and pick up some things. If you need me, I'll have my cell with me," she finished, unnecessarily, just to get a dig in at Oakland.

Smiling pleasantly, she walked out the door. As soon as it clicked shut behind her, her expression changed. Why does Bill put up with David's mouth? He's never satisfied, and this is the best job he's ever had, or is likely to ever have. He was fine for a while, but for the last year or so, all he ever seems to do is gripe,  she thought as she made her way out of the office complex and headed for her car.

I wish Bill had let me stay. If that look on his face was any indication, Mr. Copilot is getting his ass chewed about now. I could have done better than he did on that last landing. He keeps talking about "flying with the big boys." I wish he would. I'm tired of his attitude. Oh, well, I need to get him off my mind before he sours my attitude.

Penney's has a sale today. Maybe I'll luck out and they will have some shoes I like. If not, I guess I'll give up and check out Goodwill. Damn, I'm tired of being broke.

Later she had finished with Penney's — unsuccessfully — and had sat down in the food court with a snack and a fountain drink. "Hello stranger," a familiar voice said from behind her.

Brannon McEntire stepped up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "You're looking sharp today, Kathy. Aren't you flying anymore?" he asked, leaning against her table looking down at her.

"We're on standby for a few days, so I thought I would do a little shopping," she answered, looking up at his tall, good-looking frame. His suit probably cost more than my whole wardrobe. And he's as arrogant as ever, but damn, he's sexy — and, he knows it.

Without being invited, he pulled a chair out and sat down next to her, his knee slightly touching hers. "When are you going out with me again, Kathy? It's been, what... at least six months?" he said, turning on his million-dollar smile. "We had a good time when we went out those, umm, two times, wasn't it? We should do it again. What about it?"

Kathy looked up at him as he put his hand over hers on the table. "Yeah, it's a great day, and I'm fine," she sarcastically said. "No use in wasting time on the pleasantries," she answered, only half joking.

"What's the matter, Kathy? Are you having a bad day? You know I'm direct. It never seemed to bother you before," he said leaning back in the chair, but maintaining contact with his hand still over hers.

Kathy sighed, "Brannon, I can't make up my mind if I like you or not. One minute you're sweet, but the next, you act like a pompous ass."

"Sorry, Kathy. I didn't mean to come across like that. I was just glad to see you. I tried calling you, but your number had been changed to an unlisted one. What gives with that, by the way?"

"Oh, nothing really. I just had someone who kept calling, and rather than get the cops involved, I just changed my number."

"Well, how about it? Want to pick up where we left off? How about dinner tonight? How does Mitchell's sound to you?"

Kathy looked at him and thought: You don't want to carry me out to eat. You want to get in my pants. And you know the effect you have on women, me included. You're an arrogant bastard, but you're a sexy, arrogant bastard. You almost got me last time. Crap, I've waited for Bill long enough. I need a man to make love to me. Well, I doubt that you would be into making love to anyone, but I'll bet you would be into fucking my brains out. Bill is married, and he doesn't stray. I don't think I would really want him to do that, anyway. Why did I have to fall in love with a married man?

Almost before she realized it, she heard herself say, "I guess you've talked me into it. Mitchell's sounds fine. Pick me up at seven. I'm living at a different place," she finished, writing her address down for him. "You can go slumming with a poor girl tonight," she said, smiling as she stood to pick up her trash. "See you then."

I can be just as abrupt as you can,  she thought, walking away without a backward glance. Why did I make a date with him? He thinks he's a ladie's man. Well, maybe I'll let him prove it. I think I still have a couple of condoms — no they're old and might break. I'll stop and buy some. I'm sure not going to let him inside me without protection. But I'm horny, and that bulge in his pants looks like it's big enough to scratch my itch.

Don't think about it girl; just do it. Mooning over Bill forever will accomplish nothing. You haven't had a man since your so-called groom-to-be called it off just before college graduation, and ran back to California. All he was looking for was steady pussy, and yours filled the bill just fine, especially when he proposed to you. You couldn't spread your legs fast enough, just like he planned. At least I know what Brannon wants. Dreaming about being in Bill's arms is just that — a dream. Let Brannon stuff that big dick up your pussy, girl, and get Captain Bill Madison off your mind.

She hadn't realized that she had tears in her eyes until she had trouble getting the key in the door lock of her car.

-------

Later, at the dress shop entrance, Jeff and Frank stood talking with Diana and Laura while the rest of the women went on inside. Diana kissed her husband on the cheek. " We'll be a while. We called Denice with Helen's measurements, but there are bound to be some alterations necessary. We want everything to be perfect."

"Baby, be careful. Don't leave the building until we get back. I can't get this guy off my mind..."

Diana squeezed his arm and grinned. "If he shows up, I'll just shoot the bastard and start screaming 'rape.' By the time the cops get here, I'll be an hysterical woman defending herself. With his record, it will fly. So stop worrying and go get your ammunition, or whatever. We won't leave until you get back. I promise."

Jeff gave each of them a quick kiss on the lips, then he and Frank left.

As Jeff pulled away from the curb, Frank said, "You're really uptight about this guy..."

"I know, Frank. And I know that I'm being paranoid — but I can't get him off my fucking mind."

After a few minutes of silence, Frank quietly asked, "Do you think Diana would really shoot him?"

Jeff glanced over at Frank for a second, "Only until he stopped twitching," he said, his voice expressionless. "Hagewood Jr. tried to abduct her daughter, and then Hagewood Sr. tried to kill me. At least in her mind. And when the sergeant told us about him killing two guys in a bar by hitting them with that ham-hock fist of his, she was convinced." After a moment, he continued, "Sometimes I wish I hadn't pulled the blow when I hit him. I might have been in jail, but I wouldn't have to worry about some nut coming after my family."

Wainwright didn't reply, and Jeff continued on to the gun shop in a brooding silence.

At the shop, while the employees loaded the truck and tied down the canvas, Jeff told Frank, "I'll be back in a minute, I've got to settle up with the owner."

In the owner's office, Jeff handed him the credit card and said, "How about having one of your people run this through while the two of us have a talk." A few minutes later, Jeff stopped by to sign for the purchase, then returned to Wainwright. "Sorry about that. I had to speak to the owner about a couple of things. I'll tell you about it later."

Changing the tone of his voice, Jeff asked, "Did you find anything you wanted?"

Frank grinned at him. "Well, I thought about buying one of those Glocks like the ones we've been shooting, but you got back before I got around to it."

Jeff laughed. "I've already taken care of that. You can just keep the two you and Margaret have been using. The guy here is a real businessman. Not only did he get the other Glocks I ordered in and have them customized like the ones you two were shooting, but he did six extra just 'in case' I might want them. They're already in the front of the truck with the rest. And don't say a thing about the cost. Those two guns you and Margaret have been shooting won't even start to equal what you're spending on our security system."

Wainwright just grinned at him. "Thanks Jeff."

Laughing, they went to get in the truck, now talking about rifles.

After returning to the dress shop, they sat in the truck talking until Melissa called them on Jeff's cell. "We're ready when you are."

"We're sitting in the parking lot beside your vehicle."

"Okay, we'll be right there," she finished, hanging up.

The women came out the side door carrying several boxes. Helen walked over to Jeff who was now standing outside the truck, the rain having stopped, and hugged him. Looking at her face, Jeff smiled, his heart seeming to swell in his chest. She whispered, "I love you," then ran to get into the Escalade, laughing.

"She almost seems to be in a daze," Wainwright said, walking back around to get in the truck, as the girls piled in the back.

Overhearing him, Jennie said, "If you think she's in a daze now, wait until Saturday morning." The girls looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

"She'll be..."

"... walking funny..."

"... for a week," they said in rotation, because they could.

Jeff cringed as he pulled out heading for the restaurant they had agreed on.

-------

After eating, they went to Macy's for cosmetics for Margaret, plus some "other things" she had not brought with her. As Jeff and Frank sat in the truck, waiting, Frank caught Jeff's eye. "I know you told me that the women could do that... thing, like they did..."

"About Helen walking funny?"

"Uh, yeah. But Jeff, with all due respect, I think they're pulling your leg. They could plan it ahead of time, then lead the conversation toward a place where their comments would fit in, then..."

Jeff drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I've thought of that, but there have been too many times when the conversation was spontaneous. They even do it occasionally when we're... uh..."

"You're shitting me."

"Unh, uh. And another thing. If I make love to one of them, and I've actually tested this, all of them know it. Even if I just snatch up one of the girls as she walks by, pull her into a bedroom, and start making love to her, the rest of them know. Half the time, the door opens and more of them come in, or else they're waiting for us when we get back to where everyone else is. And I do mean waiting.

"And remember, when that bear hit me, I was over a mile from the house. When I saw the blood coming out of what was left of my arm and shoulder, I knew I had bought the farm. But Diana and Arlene were there before I bled out. You got an edited version of what happened in that bedroom that morning. Get one of the women, other than Diana or Arlene, to tell you how those two left out of there at a dead run, one wearing a gun belt, the other carrying hers.

"I've tried to question the two of them about it, asking for details, but they won't talk about it. They just say it was the most horrible thing they had ever experienced. I know I didn't scream aloud, when the bear did his thing. Even if I had, no one could have heard me. But they heard something, somehow, and when I tried to question them about it, they literally turned white. Then asked me to, please, never ask them about the details of that again."

Wainwright cleared his throat. "Uh, Helen — she told me to call her Helen, when I kept calling her by her title — and I discussed a little about the women knowing where you were. She said that she had meant to set up a double blind study to check out if they could really do it or not. But after being with the women so much, and seeing the 'casualness' I think she called it, at knowing where you were, she began, begrudgingly, to believe. After the bear attack, and the feeling all your wives had with not being able to leave the living room where you were, including her, she was further convinced. Then she realized that she could feel you, as she put it. Jeff, is it the healer doing that?"

Jeff glanced at Frank and sighed. "I don't know. Diana and Arlene have been able to find me in the house, or yard, or in the mall for, heck, I don't know, since Arlene was little. And I don't know for certain when Diana started doing it. I used to laugh about her always finding me at the mall, when I would have to walk seemingly forever to find her. At first, she would just shrug and say something like 'Oh, I thought you might be in here, ' when she would walk into a store and find me. Then it got to be, 'Yeah, I knew where you were.' For a while," he laughed, "I thought all married couples could do it. All of that happened long before the healer."

"Can you tell where they are? You haven't said anything about it? Or is it any of my business?" Frank added as an afterthought, belatedly realizing that Jeff wasn't one of his employees that he was quizzing about a work-related subject.

Jeff glanced over a Wainwright and grinned, "Frank you know far too much about what's going on for me to hold back things like that. No, I can't tell..." Jeff stopped in mid sentence, and odd expression on his face as realization struck. No, that's ridiculous,  he thought as he remembered something. "No, Frank, I can't tell where they are," he finished, perplexed, as his mind focused. That's too bizarre. Surely not. If I told him, he would think I'm nuts for sure.

Frank didn't push him, but he wondered at Jeff's stumbling speech, his mind obviously on something else. Mentally shrugging, Frank changed the subject as they continued to chat while they waited for the women.

Later, after eating, and some more shopping, late in the afternoon, they headed out of Denver. As they topped the first mountain range before Winter Park, they ran into rain, again. It continued intermittently until they go to Winter Park — the rain wasn't intermittent then. Later, the wind-driven rain buffeting the big pickup, Jeff slowed to a crawl for the last few miles as they climbed the mountain, the wipers on high and the rain coming down in sheets, as he constantly checked the mirror, worried about the women.

As they waited for the women to pull their vehicle close to the back steps, Wainwright said. "I screwed up when I didn't make the attached garage any bigger when I built the center. Everybody told me I should, but I couldn't build one big enough for all the cars, so I just built a fifteen-car detached garage, plus the bays for the lift, ATV's and snowmobiles, and the four-car inside garage. But I notice that you don't use it. I just paved the lot between the house and the garage, and reserved the inside garage for the top four in the company. Margaret has given me hell about it ever since. She's probably bending Diana's ear right now," he finished as the women got out and dashed up the steps, wisely leaving their packages in the Escalade until later.

"We'll probably use the inside garage when winter comes, but it's quite a little walk from the garage door to the kitchen, or our suite, so we just park out back for now."

Frank thought for a minute. "Yeah, the garage entrance isn't as convenient as it could be, but after making the kitchen into the reinforced shelter, and needing to have the dining rooms next to the kitchen, I just ran out of options. I couldn't make everything convenient to everything else, with the building so big, and Margaret and I usually used one of the apartments at the other end of the hall, which made the inside garage much more convenient for us."

"So you're saying I have another building project coming up?" Jeff laughed as the girls handed them their umbrellas, then quickly opening theirs, took off.

Frank laughed as Jeff sobered for a moment. "Frank, why in the hell haven't you married that woman?" he asked as Margaret got out squealing as she fought her umbrella in the wind. "And don't tell me it's none of my business. I know it isn't..."

Frank laughed, as Jeff expected him to. "Crap. Our worlds are so interwoven now, that would be a little ridiculous, especially since you have given us the greatest gift we ever could have — and that no amount of money could buy."

At Jeff's raised eyebrow, "The healer — obviously. Margaret looks years younger. I feel like I'm twenty-five. I'm chasing pussy like I haven't done in years, and... I think I can do more when I do catch it than I ever could in my life. The gift of youth. We couldn't have bought it anywhere — for any price. We owe you more than we could ever repay, and well... thank you, Jeff."

Jeff grinned at him. "Does that mean that you're going to tell me why you haven't married Margaret?"

Frank laughed, and looked out at the rain for a moment. "I'll tell you more about it later, but for now, let's just say we've both been married twice and it didn't work. We're deeply in love, but we show two levels, at least to our close friends. We have our work persona, and our personal one. Margaret didn't get her position as senior vice president on her back. She got the job long before she graced me with that privilege."

Quiet for a moment, he continued, "We are both afraid to rock the boat. What we've got works, and works well for both of us. We're afraid to change, I guess."

"Let's get inside," Jeff said, breaking the beginning of another silence. "The last of the women just made it."

Only two umbrellas turned wrong-side out. Jennie and Arlene got really wet, but everyone had wet legs from the blowing rain.

When everyone was in the mudroom, wiping their feet and laughing at the two that had gotten doused. Frank pointed out the storm door as the rain lashed at the glass. "Just imagine what that's going to be like in a couple of months. You will have to string a rope for a guideline to follow when that turns to snow. Of course, with all the backup systems, there shouldn't be any reason to go out to the garage to need that guideline. And convenient of not, the inside garage is going to look a lot better."

Jeff caught the towel Laura threw him and helped Jennie dry off.

A dripping Jennie looked at her husband. Trying to grin, her teeth chattering, she said, unnecessarily, "That rain is cold."

"Yeah, Punkin. I know. Now scat. You two get in a hot shower. We'll get the stuff out of the vehicles when the rain slacks off. They gave him a somewhat wet kiss and ran."

Later, when the rain still hadn't quit, Jeff and Dave put on rain suits, put the pickup in the garage, and retrieved the women's purchases.

-------

Kathy's doorbell rang at ten after seven. "He just had to show who was in control,  she thought as she glanced at her watch before opening the door. Stepping outside, she said, "Don't open your mouth about my dumpy little apartment."

"Hell, Kathy, you've got a college education. Why don't you get a job that pays more?"

"My job pays just fine. And it's none of your business where I spend my money. Now, let's change the subject before you really piss me off. I'm not too sure about going out with you, anyway," she finished, walking down the steps, McEntire following, a grin on his face.

He noted the shapely ass swaying in front of him, and as he held the door for her and she slid inside his car, he was also well aware of the movement of unfettered breasts under her blouse. She's always worn a bra before when she went out with me. I was almost there the last time, until she suddenly got cold feet. I'm going to get some pussy off this prissy bitch tonight, if I have to tie her down to get it. Yeah, she might really go for that. She claims she doesn't date, hasn't since her fiance dumped her in college, other than those two chaste outings with me. I'll bet that pussy is going to be tight. Time to quit fucking around and turn on the charm.

McEntire closed the door and hurried around to the driver's side. As he started the car, he said, "You're really looking good tonight, Kathy. You're a beautiful woman."

Kathy looked over at him and smiled sweetly. "I like the sound of that, even though I don't believe you. But keep it up, there's no telling what might happen."

McEntire grinned and started the car.

At the restaurant when she turned down wine, asking for a Coke, instead, McEntire hesitated, then ordered for himself. When the waiter had gone, "What gives, Kathy? Afraid I'll get you drunk and have my way with you?" he teased.

Frowning, she answered, "I'm on standby. We can't drink when we're on standby. The company has a strict policy for its pilots, and even me. Not a point zero six, nor a point zero four, like some of the airlines. Mr. Wainwright won't allow any alcohol when the crew is flying, or even on standby, because we might have to fly at any time."

"He sounds like a prick to me."

"About the only time I see him is when he goes somewhere with us, or comes to visit with Bill, but he has always been nice to me. He's as likely to get up and get his own food, as not. He has even served me several times when I was serving other people. When I got back to my seat, he had my food ready for me."

"You mean he lets the hired help eat with the execs?" he asked as the waiter brought the wine for him to approve. When McEntire nodded, he poured the wine.

A little later as they finished giving their orders, Kathy remembered, and answered, "Most of the people from the company treat me like I'm a part of them. Oh, I do my job, but they'll help if I need it, especially if there are several of them."

McEntire took another sip of wine, then set the glass down. "But the drawback is that you're gone most of the time. You're not off on weekends, or holidays like the rest of us. From what you told me before, you're flying, or at least gone, maybe stuck at a hotel somewhere, far in excess of forty hours a week. That doesn't sound like the kind of life I would want..."

"Yes, but we're compensated for our time, and I've had some super vacations. I could never have afforded all that time in Hawaii, let alone the expensive hotels we've stayed in with all our expenses paid for by the company. And we've been to just about all the big vacation spots in the states, Canada and Alaska. Lots of times, until we have another flight, we get to stay and vacation. Of course, most flight are business flights, but even then we're well taken care of."

"Well, if you're compensated for all that time, why are you living..."

"Don't go there," Kathy admonished. "It's not any of your business, and you wouldn't understand, anyway."

Seeing the look on her face, McEntire tried to calm her, "Easy, Kathy. Believe it or not, I wasn't trying to talk down to you. It just slipped out." Noticing the waiter coming with their food, he continued, "Let's change the subject; we came to have a good time," he said smiling.

Kathy smiled back at him. Oh, you came to have a good time, all right. But not here. This fine restaurant was simply a place to get me well on my way to being drunk, then you were going to carry me someplace and fuck my brains out. But you don't need to get me drunk. I'm going to get Bill out of my system, one way or another, and the best way to do that is to start having sex with someone. You happened to be in the right place at the right time, Mr. McEntire. I don't really like you as a person, but you're damn good looking, and sexy. And you may just be the perfect one to restart my sex life. I surely don't have to worry about falling in love with you.

McEntire, sensing that all was going well, joked and teased Kathy through dinner, keeping her smiling, and occasionally laughing aloud. "Well, where to Kathy? We went to a movie last time, a concert before that, shall we go to my place and listen to some music? Or would you like to do something else?"

"Let's just go for a drive. I know a quiet place by the river. We can sit and talk."

McEntire, knowing better than to push it, smiled, "Hey, that sounds like a great idea."

They found a fairly secluded place and necked for a half hour or so. Stilling herself, Kathy said, "Let's go back to my place, we can be more comfortable there."

McEntire sighed, "Kathy, why don't we go to my place? I..."

"Hush," she said touching his lips with her fingertips. "I know your place is nicer, but if I get a call, then you will have to bring me home to pick up my car, then I'll have to drive to the airport. That would be pushing the hour limit. Remember, I'm on standby. Let's just go to my place."

McEntire smiled and started the car. "Sure, that sounds fine to me," he said backing out and turning around. I had rather do it in a nice environment, but dinky little apartment or not, I'm going to put a load into your pussy tonight. Nothing is going to stop me this time,  he thought, relishing the idea of his cock emptying into her tight hole.

A few minutes later, she let him in to her clean, but spartan apartment. When he held the wine bottle up that he had brought from the restaurant, Kathy said, "Just toss your jacket on the chair. There are glasses in the kitchen. I'll be back in a moment."

Standing in the bathroom a few moments later, she looked at her image in the mirror and thought, You've had sex many times with that so-called fiance of yours who dumped you to run home to Momma, or wherever he went. You thought you were in love with him. You know this isn't love, but you can't have Bill. He's married to a beautiful wife, and has a pretty fifteen-year-old daughter. You don't want him to cheat, even if he would. So just go in there, spread your legs, and let lover boy shove his prick up you. You've got a life to live, and the men aren't exactly falling all over themselves to take your hand in marriage.

Shrugging, glancing once more in the mirror, she walked out of the bathroom. As she entered the living room, McEntire held up a half-full wine glass. " Come on Kathy, this is good stuff. A half glass never hurt anyone."

Kathy held her hand up slightly. "A half glass will get me fired, if I'm called in."

"How? How are they going to know? A half glass won't even make you tipsy. And you can use mouth wash to cover any smell there might be."

"Oh, yes they would know. There is an alcohol detector in the cockpit. Part of the rules says I have to be tested just like the pilots. So I have to stick my head in the cockpit and talk until the detector takes a reading, just like the pilots do. I'm not giving up my job for a half glass of wine, no matter how much it costs. On my off time, I can drink as much as I want, as long as it's out of my system before I go back on duty. But when I'm on standby — none."

"Baby, I didn't mean anything by it. You had a glass or two of wine with me when we went out before. Peace," he finished, grinning, then after placing the glass on the table, he sat on the couch.

A little reluctantly, she sat beside him and allowed him to put his arm around her, snuggling her close to him. As they kissed, she felt his hand start down her side, gently kneading, gradually getting ever closer to her breast. She opened her mouth a little and let his tongue force its way inside.

Soon he had her warmed up again. Oh, he definitely knows what he is doing,  she thought as his hand trailed across her breast to deftly unbutton her blouse. As each button gave way, she tensed but finally kissed him harder. With all the buttons out of the way, his hand described tiny circles from the bottom of her blouse until his fingertips eventually teased her nipple.

His mouth left hers to kiss gently across her cheek, then across her ear, where he lightly nipped her earlobe. His lips descended to her neck, where after kissing for a while, they made their way across her chest. With his face, he pushed her blouse aside to bare her other breast. As his mouth got to her left nipple, his other hand teased her right, pulling gently, then harder. She almost came from the dual ministrations.

Minutes flew away as he continued to kiss and fondle her. She realized that somehow, she was now lying on the couch with Brannon between her legs, most of his weight supported on his forearms as he continued to suckle and tantalize her nipples. She felt her panties sliding down, and after a moment raised her ass up slightly to help him. A moment later, he pulled them off her ankles.

As he came back up, he teased the inside of her thighs with his lips. Above her again, she realized that he was pushing his pants and shorts off, his shoes already gone.

A part of her mind almost panicked. Now is the time. It's stop him now, or he's going to put it in you. But I've waited for two years for Bill Madison. He's happily married and true-blue to his wife. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life waiting for something that isn't going to happen.

She spread her legs wider as he pushed her skirt above her hips, her blouse open all the way, her breasts on display, their nipples hard and swollen.

Remembering, she reached over to her purse on the coffee table beside her. Fishing for and finding the condoms she had bought, she handed one to McEntire. "Here, use this."

"Hey, I don't like those things."

"Don't blow it now, Brannon," she hissed at him. "You're not getting inside me without one. I'm not on birth control, and I know you have been seeing a lot of women."

"Oh, all right," he complained, taking the package and tearing it open.

As he took the condom out and reached down, she saw his dick. She almost laughed aloud. Oh, shit. Big he-man lover boy has a five-inch dick, if that. This asshole had something stuck in his pants yesterday like some teenage boy. No way, that little dick would make a bulge like that. Oh, well, I haven't had any in two years. At least I won't have to worry about him splitting me open.

Seeing Kathy focus on his thin cock as he put on the condom made McEntire furious. My dick may not be big, but my balls have plenty of sperm in them. This prissy bitch is going to get a load up her pussy. I'll put her legs over my shoulders when I shoot off, and keep them there until the sperm has time to get into her womb. That'll take some of the prissy out of her when her belly swells up.

He leaned back on Kathy kissing her and running his fingers lightly over her vulva, then circled her clit. When he felt her ass begin to rhythmically lift,  he slid the condom off and pushed his dick again her wet lips. I knew I would get this bitch tonight,  he gloated as he tensed his ass muscles and shoved.

The phone in Kathy's purse rang.

Kathy turned to the side to reach for the phone just as the head of McEntire's cock penetrated her pussylips, then slid upward, bumping across her clit as she moved.

"That's my work phone," she said as she pulled it out of her purse. "Hello."

"'Work phone, ' my ass," he screeched, his face turning a dark red.

"Uh, Kathy. We've got a hurry-up flight. Is everything okay?" Madison asked, concern in his voice, obviously having heard McEntire's outburst.

"Yeah, it's going to be," Kathy said distractedly as she pushed at Brannon.

"The hell you say," McEntire yelled. "We're going to finish this."

The phone landed on the coffee table, then skidded onto the floor as Kathy got a foot against McEntire's lower belly and pushed — hard — causing him to go over backward on the side of the couch, then sprawl onto the floor.

"Get the fuck out of my apartment," she screamed, then seeing his unsheathed dick, added, "You pulled the rubber off you son-of-a-bitch," she yelled, picking up one of his shoes, opening her door and tossing it out, along with his pants.

"You Bitch!" he yelled, coming for her. As he reached for her, Kathy took his left arm in a gooseneck come-a-long, as she had done in the dojo a thousand times. When he tried to snatch his hand back, she tucked his elbow under her armpit and applied pressure to the top outside of his bent wrist, and McEntire, screaming, went to his knees.

"We're going out the door, Brannon. Either with a broken wrist, or without one. It's your choice," she said, lightening the pressure and standing. As he came to his feet, he tried to snatch his hand away, but of course it was impossible. Kathy cranked down hard on the pressure for an instant, then released back up to something that was just shy of agony.

When she started for the door this time, he marched right with her, whimpering. On the stoop, she shoved with her arm, managing to get her foot against his ass to add to the launch. Stumbling down the four steps, he sprawled ignominiously into the yard on his back, his little dick still hard and sticking straight up.

Kathy's neighbors, "Momma" Williams and her two grown sons ran out the door of their apartment just a Kathy provided impetus to McEntire's decent down the steps.

McEntire jumped up screaming, wearing nothing but his shirt and socks, his little dick waving around, and charged toward the steps, but Ronald, "Momma's" son, backhanded him across the mouth, aborting his lunge and bloodying McEntire's nose.

"Lord, Child, I'd throw his sorry ass out of my house, too. Who he gonna please with that thing?" she said laughing.

McEntire got up, retrieved his pants, and was trying to get them on when a shoe sailed out of the apartment and hit him on the shoulder. Shortly, a wine bottle landed near his feet, miraculously not breaking. Shaking his fist at Kathy as she came back out on the stoop to throw his shorts and jacket at him, he yelled, "I'll get your ass for this, you fucking prick tease. Roland, "Momma's" other son hit him this time — hard. Then standing over McEntire as he struggled to get his faculties about him enough to stand up, said, "Anythin' happen to her, I'm gonna find you and stomp a new hole in yo ass. Now get out of here 'fore I decide to do it now."

McEntire stumbled to his feed and stared at him, thinking about trying Roland when Ronald stepped up and stomped Brannon's toes. Pretty boy yowled and staggered back.

"Fuck waitin', let's trash his ass now. Save time."

The brothers grinned at each other as McEntire blanched while again struggling to get his pants on. A couple of minutes later, carrying the rest of his stuff, he stumbled toward his car still cursing and threatening.

"You need a dick stretcher, white boy," one of the neighbors called out.

"Nah," another yelled. "He already got a skinny dick. If he did that, it would be so skinny then, that he'd have to take up gnat fuckin'."

"Yo," another guy said, "Then we call him Needle Dick the Bug Fucker."

While the neighbors were laughing, Kathy ran down the steps and hugged both the young men, then Momma, who hugged her back, then said. "Girl you better button your blouse up, 'cause my boys gonna cum in they pants you keep bouncin' 'round like that."

Embarrassed, frantically buttoning her blouse, she became aware of rhythmic clapping. Momma, two other women and several men were slow clapping — all laughing. "Oh, I'm embarrassed," Kathy stammered.

Momma hugged her again, laughing. "Child, that beat anything I've ever seen on Oprah. We would'uh paid for it."

After talking to her neighbors a few minutes, Kathy said, "I've got to run. I've got a hurry-up flight."

Momma turned to Roland, her dialect gone. "You follow Kathy to the airport to make sure that shithead doesn't bother her."

"Yes Ma'am," he acknowledged. Then turning to Kathy, "I'll get my car from around back, and be waiting for you. We'll make damn sure he doesn't bother you."

Almost protesting, but seeing the smile on Roland's face, she thanked him instead, and hugged him again. "I'll just be a minute."

Back inside, she realized the phone was laying on the floor by the door, still open and on. Oh, shit. What must Bill think? Picking up the phone, she tentatively said, "Bill, are you still there?"

Laughing, Madison answered, "Yeah. I started to call the cops, but from what I could hear, it sounded like you had the situation well in hand."

"Oh, Bill. I don't know what to say. I almost did something really stupid. I..."

Madison interrupted. "You can tell me all about it when you get here. Somehow, I think I would like to hear it in person. From the sound of his squealing, it's going to be quite a story." Belatedly, he asked, "You are okay, aren't you? I'm sorry Kathy, I should have asked that first. I just got so tickled when you did whatever you did to him, that I lost my manners."

Trying to suppress an onset of hysterical giggles from the adrenalin punch, she said, "I'm fine. I'll see you in a few minutes," then hung up.



-------

Chapter 20

Kathy stuck her arm out the window and waved at Roland behind her just before she turned off for the airport. He must have figured out what she was trying to do because he flashed his lights and didn't take the turn. Smiling at how lucky she was to have such good friends, she headed for the airport and the parking lot.

A little later, she walked through the office door as Bill came quickly to his feet, meeting her halfway across the office. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.

Feeling her face flush with embarrassment, she answered, "Yeah, I'm just fine. Just feeling a little foolish, I guess. I brought most of that on myself."

Standing in front of her, looking down at her he stammered, "Uh Kathy, I don't know how to say this, but I heard... well, do you need to go to the hospital to be checked out, or need to do something? Your health comes first. I can always call Wainwright and tell him we can't make it. I can charter him a plane and crew in Denver."

Kathy looked at him, not able to understand exactly what he was talking about, and wasn't sure why he mentioned Denver. "Bill, I wasn't raped. I think he would have tried, or did try, after I stopped him and pushed him away, but he didn't rape me, if that's what you mean."

"Oh, shit, Kathy," he said, then after a false start, said, "Look, I heard you yell at him about having pulled the condom off, do you need..."

Kathy's face turned redder, if possible.

"Kathy, I'm sorry. I overstepped my bounds; I'm just worried about you..."

Before she realized what she was doing, she grabbed him and hugged him. "He didn't do anything; the phone rang just in time. I was going to do something stupid, that I really didn't want to do, but I just got tired of waiting..." her voice trailed off as she realized what she had almost said.

"'Waiting, ' Kathy?" he questioned, then his face changed as he began to get an inkling of her meaning. "Oh, shit," he whispered.

Hugging her tight, he then pushed her back at arms' length, his hands still on her shoulders. "Let's put this conversation on hold for a while. The Matthews have a friend who is going to bury his wife tomorrow. They just heard about it tonight, and the funeral is in the morning in Georgia. We've got a lot of flying to do, so we need to go as soon as we can."

Dropping into professional mode, she mentally shook herself. "Okay, it will only take a couple of minutes for me to change," she said, hurrying to her closet and pulling out a uniform. "Is David on the way?"

As she turned toward the bathroom to dress, Madison said, his voice as expressionless as he could make it, "Why don't you wear this one, Kathy?" as he stood holding out a pilot's uniform.

She turned in his direction for a second, then froze. "But that's not a flight attendant's uniform, that a... Oh, shit. Bill, don't do this to me. Please, don't tease me," she said almost breathless, her mind jumping ahead as she focused on the brand-new uniform he was holding out to her.

"I'm not teasing, Kathy. I would never tease you about something like this. David had been drinking when I called him. He quit. Said he had another job. Want to fly second seat with me?"

Seeing the look on her face, he continued, "Not just tonight. Second pilot's job. Do you want it?"

He guessed she did, when a couple of moments later, he managed to untangle himself from her and the uniform. Then she put a hand behind his neck and kissed him. Not just a "thank-you" kiss but a toe-curling,  thank-you kiss. Breathless they broke apart to stand with their mouths almost touching, just looking at each other. Deliberately his lips slowly enveloped hers — this time, his initiative. When they pulled apart, they were both out of breath and embarrassed.

Sobering, thinking, Kathy said, "What will Wainwright say? There's no way he's going to accept an inexperienced pilot. I just got my license for the jet three months ago, and I've only been able to afford to buy fuel once since then to get flying time. I'm so deep in debt from flying lessons for the last two years, plane rentals, and buying fuel for the jet that I just couldn't afford more time. You can't do this. You'll get into trouble. If you can't get another pilot tonight, I'll fly second seat this trip, but I'll understand when you have to hire someone with experience as your permanent copilot."

"Kathy, Mr. Wainwright has made it very plain that I'm in charge of that aircraft. He doesn't want to get involved in the details; he just wants to get there in one piece. He doesn't know how to fly — doesn't want to learn. When I hired David, and Stillman before him, I didn't ask Mr. Wainwright, and he never even commented on the subject. He knows about your training, and I've kept him abreast about what you've done. He isn't an idiot; he's already figured out that I was grooming you for the job. Now I'll talk to you more about it later. Right now, you need to get yourself into that uniform. And get these others into your bag."

As Kathy took off for the bathroom, he said, a little louder, "I sneaked one of your flight attendant's uniforms out of your closet about a month ago so the tailor could have your sizes. Oh, and there are three caps in the bathroom; they're adjustable a size or so in either direction. One of them should fit you. I can return the other two to the uniform company," he said to the partially opened door. "And your regular black uniform shoes will do fine, If you want something else, later, we can take care of that."

"Oh, Bill," he heard a muffled voice say, "I'm so nervous that I can hardly button the blouse." A little later he heard something hit the floor and a muffled curse, then she walked out of the bathroom.

Madison, so proud he could hardly speak, said, "You look good."

Her eyes focused on her desk where a leather flight case, almost identical to his, was setting. With trembling fingers she opened the case, expecting it to be empty, but it was far from it.

"I've duplicated most everything that I carry. There are still a couple of things that I need to get you..."

"You didn't have to do this... any of it... and I know that." Fighting back tears, she continued, "This is what I've dreamed about since I was a little girl. Oh, Bill, I don't know what to say."

"You've already said it," he said, unconsciously touching his mouth. "The look on your face is more than enough thank-you. Now let's see if we can get to Boulder in time to get these folks to Georgia for that funeral. We're going to be a couple of tired puppies in the morning, since we've both been up all day."

As they walked out of the office, Kathy, carrying her flight case and pulling her bag just like her captain, she felt like everyone was staring at her. Bill looked at her, remembering his first time in a flight uniform — feeling like an imposter — and grinned down at her. He watched her shoulders come back, and her back straighten as his new pilot walked beside him, the smile broadening on her face, as they headed for the plane.

-------

The phone call had been numbing; only Wainwright had been in the living room with Jeff when the call came in from one of Jeff's police buddies in Georgia.

"Jeff, this is Mark."

"Hey, guy. It's great to hear from you," Jeff answered, a feeling of dread belying his words.

"Jeff, has anybody told you about Lieutenant Wilson's wife dying?"

The dread congealed to a knot in Jeff's gut. "Brenda? No... they haven't."

The conversation went on, Wainwright listening to Jeff's end of the conversation. When he heard Jeff recount that the funeral would be at twelve tomorrow, he picked up the phone, punched the other line and started dialing.

By the time Jeff got off the phone, all his women, including Helen, we in the living room, having quietly taken seats, their faces somber, waiting for the conversation to end. Jeff didn't even bother to wonder how they knew something was wrong. Turning to them, he said, "My detective buddy, retired Lieutenant Wilson's wife, Brenda, died day before yesterday of a massive heart attack. The funeral is tomorrow at twelve. Calling me must have slipped through the cracks. Mark looked over the guest register after visitation tonight and my name wasn't on it, so he called.

"I've got to be there. I didn't know her as well as I did Fred, but Fred was good to me — a good friend. He helped me with contacts time and again... we used to shoot together a lot..."

Wainwright hung up the phone, paused a moment thinking, then turned to Jeff and the others. "The crew was on standby. I just talked to Captain Madison. He's calling them in. He'll call back when they're airborne. We've got time, but the three-hour time difference is in the wrong direction. If I heard you correctly Jeff, the funeral is at twelve with the viewing at eleven? That's eight our time."

At Jeff's nod, Frank continued, "You folks get packed and get to Boulder. Margaret and I will take care of the details. We'll get a couple of suites reserved for you, and transportation. We'll call you on the plane, or if you're asleep, which I think would be a good idea, I'll talk to Madison."

As Jeff walked by, he reached out and squeezed Frank's shoulder, then followed his family to pack. Frank buzzed their suite to tell Margaret she wasn't going to bed quite yet. When she answered, he said, "Jeff has got to make an emergency trip to Georgia tonight. I need you to help me make arrangements. You're better at this than I am. I'll probably manage to piss everybody off. I'm in the living room and I'll tell you all about it when you get here."

Realizing he hadn't asked Jeff which city the funeral was going to be in, he buzzed Jeff's suite. When Melissa answered, he said, "I'm sorry Melissa, but I didn't ask Jeff which airport would be best."

After a moment, she came back on the line. "He said they lived in Athens, but the funeral would be in Atlanta."

"Okay, thanks," he said hanging up.

When Margaret hurried in with her laptop, he said, "Here's the problem..."

-------

As they received clearance to taxi to the runway and hold, muttering almost to herself, Kathy said, "I don't mind takeoffs at night. I don't mind landings at night. I keep worrying about turning onto a runway, thinking it's a taxiway," she said following the signs, and checking the taxi chart yet again, although she knew she was correct.

"If you have any doubt, ask the tower for progressive taxi instructions. You know that. Just relax. But the aircraft is yours. I will assist, but just as in training, the only way to do it — is — to do it. And by the way, you're not the only pilot who worries more about getting confused on the ground at a big airport than they do about flying."

A few minutes later, they were cleared for takeoff and he saw her relax as she brought the engines up, now sure of herself. He smiled as the best student he had ever had, not to mention the prettiest, brought them out of Saint Louis.

Later, at altitude, Madison brought Kathy a cup of coffee. When she smiled her thanks, he returned to the passenger area, poured a cup for himself and picked up the phone.

"Wainwright speaking."

"We're on our way. And...  I have a new copilot, but I no longer have a flight attendant."

Wainwright chuckled. "Well, that sentence says a lot. What happened? Did you fire Oakland?"

"No, when I called him, he quit."

"I didn't tell you, but he came to me last week, griping about being put on standby so much lately. I know the last month has been hard on you people, and I'm afraid it's going to continue with the... things that are going on right now."

"I didn't know he did that," Madison said, his voice changing. "What did you tell him?" if you don't mind my asking.

Wainwright laughed. "What do you think I told him? I told him he needed to talk to his boss. He didn't seem pleased. I should have warned you, but I figured you would take care of it if he got out of line."

"Well, I chewed his ass out this morning. That was probably the final straw as far as he was concerned. When I talked to him tonight, he said he had a better job, and well... made a few remarks."

Wainwright chuckled. "Yeah, I'll just bet he did. Now tell me about Kathy. How did she take it?"

"She was ecstatic. She was in the process of asking me if David was on the way, hurrying to change, when I held up her uniform."

"Oh, so you had a uniform ready for her, hmmm?"

"You know damn well I did. She doesn't have the experience, but she's going to make an excellent pilot, and she's got the right attitude for this job."

"I'm just kidding you, Bill. We've already talked about this. Now, were you able to find out if she has any other debts?"

"I've tried to skate around the subject. She's mentioned the two credit cards and the bank loan. I felt like a thief rummaging through her purse to get the credit card account numbers, regardless of our intentions."

"Well, she might not be too pissed at you when she finds out why," Wainwright mused aloud. "Okay, let's do this. I'll get the accounting department to pay off the credit cards and the bank in the morning. I'll send her a fax in a few minutes congratulating her on her new position, telling her we're paying off all her debts that she's incurred because of the training, and I'll add a nice little bonus as well.

"Obviously, I'm not going to be picky about what she's charged for herself, or what has been specifically for training. I'm just going to pay everything off. But you need to sit her down and make sure we have all her bills, and make her understand that I do mean all her bills. If she's behind on rent, utilities, and things like that, I want the bills. She's busted her ass to become a pilot for me, and I want her to know that I appreciate it. Besides, we've paid tuition and books for many of our employees to continue their educations; there is no basic difference in this, except she did it on her own, not really expecting a job — just hoping, and she had to make some major sacrifices to get it done on her salary.

"I'll let payroll know about her job change and sign-on bonus." Thinking for a moment, Wainwright continued. "The company is about to make a whole lot of additional money, and you two have worked your asses off just like the rest of us. It's going to be worth your wile. I know that this standby bullshit has to get old, and it will slack off once all the contracts are signed and we're in production, but it's going to continue for the next several months. It can't be helped. But I know it's fucked your home life."

What home life? Madison thought to himself. And when was the last time I got fucked. Aloud, he said, "I'll call Mr. Matthews cell just before we start our approach."

Wainwright cleared his throat, "Bill, I don't know whether this is doable are not, but they have an event scheduled for Friday night here."

There was a chuckle from the other end of the line. "Looks like Kathy is going to get to swim in the deep water right to start. As soon as we're legal on our down time, we can come back. We might be a little wobbly when we get there though, but I'll make sure we have enough sleep before we come back. We're just starting out a little behind because of already being up all day, and being worn out from all the trips lately."

"Okay, I spoke to Jeff about this a little while ago. The family wants you two to come up for the night, and for the weekend if you don't have to go somewhere else." Hesitating a moment, he added. "Tell you what, I'll call Tingle and tell him you're off until Monday. If anyone just has to go somewhere, they can go commercial."

"Uh, Frank, you know we're not going to be very good company. Both of us are going to be bushed... Probably, another time would be better..."

"Jeff likes you, and Kathy. He wasn't as taken,  shall we call it, with Oakland. Trust me on this. The Matthews inviting you two for this is an honor, and something very special. They'll tell you what's going on. Besides, they're already discussing you two sleeping all day Friday."

"Okay, okay," Bill laughed, "You talked me into it. None of this would be a big deal if we hadn't been running back-to-back trips for the last couple of weeks. Kathy is still pumped with adrenalin from the new job, but when that runs out — if it ever does," he laughed, "she's going to need some rest, too. I can't wait to see the look on her face when she gets that fax."

"I know I should wait and give her the letter when she gets here, but damnit, I want to make her first trip as a professional pilot one she will always remember." Then, laughter in his voice, he said, "Margaret is glaring at me to get off the phone so we can get on that letter and fax. Keep us posted."

As soon as he hung up, Margaret kissed him, then pushed back and looked at his face, teasing him. "You men like to gossip as much as women. And the two of you are so proud of yourselves. If you knew she was doing this, why didn't you step in and pay for her schooling and plane rentals?"

Wainwright grinned at her, "Actually, Bill did approach her about sending me a letter saying she wanted to train for a pilot's position. But she nixed the idea as soon as he brought it up. Apparently, she didn't think there was much possibility of her getting the job, and just between the two of us, I think Bill has been putting up with a rash of shit from Oakland, trying to keep the job open for Kathy. He told me he chewed Oakland out today — and probably very justifiably so. But I think he has been stalling for time until Kathy got all her licenses, and he felt she was ready. Oakland quit us; we didn't quit him. Hell, he's made a lot of money the last few months, but apparently he's more interested in a few days off that he can count on every now and then. Can't blame him there. But, right now, that's not what we need from a pilot."

Margaret sat back down at the table in front of her laptop, but turned back to Wainwright. "How did Madison tell Kathy about her new job?"

Frank grinned down at her, leaning on the table. "He held up a new pilot's uniform, and asked her why she didn't wear it, instead."

Margaret turned back to her computer, smiling, "I wish I could have been there. We'll have to get her to tell us all about it. Now check this out and see if it's what you want to say. I modified our standard 'welcome' letter, but I think this will do..."

-------

An hour or so later, they heard the chime of an incoming fax. "How about getting that," Madison said as nonchalantly as he could.

She smiled at him as she went back into the passenger compartment. A moment later he heard her squeal, "Bill, oh Bill!"

She came back into the cockpit, almost frantically maneuvering herself into the copilot's seat. "You knew about this didn't you?" she accused, almost babbling, waving the fax. "You set this up. I know you did. Oh, Bill, he paying off all my bills." Suddenly she got quiet, having read the last line of the letter. "He's giving me a bonus," she quietly said. Then looking out the window for a while, suddenly quiet, she sniffed and added. "I can't believe how much the bonus is. But of course you know."

He didn't, but he had a darn good guess that it was a half-year's salary. Madison handed her a couple of tissues and smiled. Yeah Frank, you do things in style,  he thought. You just got yourself another loyal employee for life, if she has her way. And I don't have to put up with a copilot bitching when I tell him, or her, as the case may be, that we're on standby. Of course, now I have to hire a flight attendant. Maybe I can find one that's already trained. We'll just have to make do without one until then. And when in the hell am I going to have time to interview for the job? Maybe Kathy knows somebody. Well, shit.

-------

"That looks like them," Kathy said, peering out the window as the two SUV's pulled close to the plane.

"Wear your cap," Madison said, donning his.

When Kathy turned from the window, he continued. "Yeah, I know what you feel like right now. But that cap adds another level of professionalism when we greet our passengers. You know I always wear mine, and so did Oakland; although, he bitched about it." He had added the comment about Oakland, knowing that Kathy would probably wear the cap now without complaints, just because Oakland had griped.

Smiling, she put the cap on and followed him down the short stairs.

As Jeff and company exited their vehicles, Arlene turned to the pilots standing on either side at the foot of the ramp, and froze. "Yes!" she exclaimed as she dashed the few steps to Kathy and grabbed her in a hug. "Look everybody!" she yelled, a tone of awe in her voice, "Kathy's a pilot now."

Kathy had expected the Matthews to congratulate her, but she never expected this. The women were ecstatic, hugging her, going on and on.

Captain Madison and Jeff looked at each other, grinned and started transferring the luggage. "What happened to the other pilot, uh, David, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, David Oakland. Ah, I can't really fault him. He's young and we've done a lot of flying in the last couple of months. He got pissed with the standby routine, and got another job."

Jeff paused as he placed a couple of cases in the compartment. "How long has she been ready?" he grinned.

Madison chuckled, "I babied David along until Kathy was ready, but I was really sweating there at the last. I wanted to keep the job open for her, one way or the other. She's the best student I've ever had, and she thinks the sun rises and set in this company. She's got the brains, the training and the right attitude. Now, all she needs is experience. And I'm going to give it to her. And before you ask, experience or not, she's competent and then some, or she wouldn't be sitting in that second seat, no matter how much I like her."

Jeff stopped and looked Madison eye-to-eye for a moment. "I never doubted that. You don't have to be defensive with us, we have far more respect for you than that, and we've all noticed how smart she is. Now, another subject: I want to talk to you later when we have time." At Madison's nod, and quiet "Thanks Mr. Matthews," Jeff turned back to gathering up the hanging luggage.

Kathy, feeling overwhelmed, finally managed to pry herself away from the group to help with the luggage, only to run into Jeff's open arms. Fighting back tears, she mumbled about helping as he eventually turned her loose to grab a case.

Later the SUV's parked, the plane buttoned up, conversation was lively — maybe too lively — as they taxied. When the engines spooled up, Jeff saw a look pass between the girls, but as the plane smoothly angled into the dark sky, they relaxed and all started talking at once. Jeff chuckled, and Diana sitting beside him, elbowed him lightly in the side, a knowing look on her face. "Behave," she whispered.

That just changed the chuckles into guffaws. "Did they actually think that Madison would give her the job if she couldn't fly this thing?" he managed to get out.

Diana was trying to "shhh" him, her finger over her lips, fighting a giggle herself, but the girls heard, and looked. Amused expressions turned to embarrassment when they figured out what he was laughing about.

After the plane reached altitude, Kathy came back to see if they wanted anything to eat or drink. "Could I get anything for you?"

Melissa was sitting in Jeff's lap on the couch, her arms around him and her breasts pressed against his side.

Kathy hesitated for a second, and almost stumbled with her question. Arlene grabbed her hand and brought her to sit with them.

Diana smiled at her. "We've got a lot to tell you and we want to invite you to a wedding."

Laura got up and leaned into the cockpit to tell Captain Madison that they would like for Kathy to be with them for a while. "Sure, no problem," he said.

"We're telling her something. When we're done, we would like to talk to you as well."

Madison raised an eyebrow, but smiled, and repeated, "Sure."

As Laura sat back down, Jennie and Melissa swapped places, with Jennie leaning her cheek contentedly against Jeff's shoulder. Kathy smiled, her face coloring.

Jeff nodded to Diana and she began. "We would like to invite you to our wedding Friday night, if we manage to get back from Atlanta in time, otherwise, it will be Saturday night."

Kathy had known that this was a special family, but just thought that they were very loving. She was just beginning to realize that it was more — much more.

Our wedding? she wondered to herself.

Diana smiled at her. "Yes, you heard right — our wedding." Indicating Doctor Boswell, she continued, "Helen is going to join our family, Friday."

Deliberately, Ann now took Jennie's place, arms around Jeff, snuggling her breasts against his side, the show obviously for Kathy's benefit.

"Jeff didn't start out to have a harem," Diana said, a little laughter in her voice as she reached over and patted her husband's thigh. "Things just seemed to work out that way."

Ann kissed Jeff, hard, then got up for Arlene to take her place. As soon as Arlene sat down, she too kissed Jeff, and it wasn't a daughterly kiss. The color really rose in Kathy's face.

"It started with her," Diana continued, indicating her daughter. "I had done some things that about destroyed our marriage. I was certain that my husband was seriously entertaining thoughts of divorcing me. So Arlene and I came up with a plan to get his mind off that. It didn't go down the way we planned, but perhaps it was better the way it worked out.

"About that time, Jenny, Ann and Melissa came out to Colorado for Arlene's birthday party, and I found out that Ann had been in love with my husband since she was thirteen. She had saved herself for him, and one thing led to another until I agreed to have Jeff be her first, only to find out that he wasn't nearly as interested as I thought he would be. Oh, he thought Ann was beautiful all right, but unlike me, he had taken his vows seriously."

"Diana, that's not right and you know it." Turning to Kathy, Jeff said, "She got involved in something that was beyond her means to control. She can give you the details later, or anyone here can. But she didn't deliberately break her vows. I was just too stupid to take everything into consideration at the time. Now I know better."

Arlene said, "You're the greatest, Dad," kissed him hard, then got up.

Laura took over Jeff's lap with all the enthusiasm the girls had, quietly moaning as she rubbed her breasts against his side.

Kathy sat stunned as Diana continued. "Well, be that as it may, as they say, Jeff and Ann had a night together, and even though Ann had a wonderful time — not to mention Jeff," she laughed, "there were complications..."

"I had an armor-plated hymen," Ann laughed as she sat down with a coke.

Diana continued, "... and she didn't get to spend the full twenty-four hours with Jeff that I promised she could have. Then... Laura lost her job, and Jeff needed an assistant, so Laura entered the scene. Shortly, she and Jeff were called to Wainwright, Inc., because of a problem with Jeff's invention."

"Yeah, we heard about that," Kathy laughed, talking to Laura. "From what I heard, you shot some high and mighty scientists down, but you never mentioned it when you got back on the plane. But Mr. Matthews told us you solved their problems for them."

"I can barely remember the flight back," Laura said, smiling. "Jeff made love to me for the first time in Saint Louis, and that city will always have a special place in my heart. There's no telling how I acted on the plane coming back. If I looked like I was love struck, it's because I was, and still am," she said.

"Well," Diana continued, "when Laura and Jeff got home, a lot of things happened, and we realized that he had two more converts, shall we say. Jennie and Melissa were now deeply in love with him, and even may have been from earlier in Georgia."

"We've loved him for a long time," Jennie and Melissa said in unison.

Kathy stared at them for a second, wondering how they did that, before Diana continued, "So, we managed to get the girls' power of attorney and settled in to live happily ever after," she laughed, "then... we started looking for a teacher. We found one that was barely qualified," she teased, as Jeff snorted, and everyone including Helen, laughed. "And guess what happened," Diana finished.

"She fell in love with Jeff?" Kathy said, half question, half statement, as she looked at Jeff incredulously.

"You got it in one," Laura said as she hurriedly kissed Jeff before getting up so Helen could sit down. Boswell kissed him, put her arms around him, and put her head on his shoulder, snuggling like everyone else.

Melissa handed Kathy a coke, and she absently took a sip, trying to get her mind around what she had been told, and obviously shown, then belatedly thanked Melissa.

Diana cleared her throat. "Kathy, very few people know about this. We have all said our vows, but since this is more than just a marriage to Jeff — we are married to each other as well — we're going to all say our vows again when Jeff and Helen are married Friday night. We want you and Captain Madison to be there. We've noticed... something about you two... and we've decided to invite you to be with us during our special time.

"There's a lot more to say, and I know that you have a lot of questions, but we don't want to overwhelm you for now."

"Whew," Kathy laughed, sitting back. "Boy, when you guys have something to say, you have something to say."

"And, it goes without saying, that we have trusted you enough to tell you all this. If it ever gets out, it could be a very big problem for us. Particularly for Jeff and me. So, please, we must ask you to never say anything to anyone about what we have just told you."

Kathy looked startled, "Oh, I would never..." she started. "You people have been special to Bill and me from the beginning. I'll never tell. I would never want to cause you trouble, and I know Bill will feel the same way."

"If we hadn't thought that, we would never have told you," Diana said, leaning over and hugging her. "And if you don't have clothes with you, that nice new uniform will do just fine," Diana finished.

"Oh, I have a dress I always carry with me on the plane. Mr. Wainwright often treats us to dinner when we ferry him somewhere, and he has the time. Of course, one nice dress is all I have, so he gets to see it just about every time he takes us out," she laughed. "I frequently wear my flight atten... uh, I guess I'll have some new uniforms to wear," she giggled.

Helen got off Jeff's lap, and he reached over and grabbed Diana's hand pulling her into place. "Come here, woman." After they kissed, she snuggled in as the others had.

"I think you can see that we love each other," Jeff commented, catching Kathy's eye. "They are all my women, but the bond is every bit as strong in the other direction. This is obviously not a pleasant trip for us, for a friend of mine has lost his wife. He is a professional friend, as well as a personal one; although, I've been around his wife far less, and didn't really know her well. Still, we have a duty to show our support in his time of sorrow. And we know that this unscheduled trip has added to your and Captain Madison's workload. We want you to know how much we appreciate what you two are doing, and we would be honored if you would come and join with us in our joy of adding another wonderful person to our marriage."

"I would love to," Kathy managed. Then turning to Helen, she reached out and took her hand. Squeezing it she said, "I'm proud for you. You're going to have a wonderful husband and..." Kathy faltered.

"... and some wonderful sister-wives," Boswell finished for her.

"I just didn't know how to say it. But that's what I meant." Turning to the others, she continued, "You're all wonderful people, and I would love to be there to see you married to each other. I consider it a fabulous honor that you would trust me enough to be there."

Getting up, she leaned past Diana to hug Jeff. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Our pleasure," he said grinning.

As Kathy straightened back up, Laura anticipated her. "No, we can get anything we need. Now go tell your boss we would like to talk to him, please," she finished, smiling.

"Oh, I wish I could see his face when you tell him," Kathy said, as she turned toward the cockpit, laughing.

Kathy resumed her seat, smiling from ear to ear. "I have the controls," she said. "Your turn. You're going to love this."

"What's going on? You look like you're about to burst."

"Don't tempt me," she laughed. "Let them tell you. I'll guarantee that you'll be interested," she smirked. "Hey, any man not dead would," she mysteriously finished, "and a whole lot of women," she quietly finished to herself, as Madison left the cockpit.

As Madison entered the passenger compartment, he stopped momentarily to refresh his coffee, another in a long line of cups already, with a lot of flight left, yet.

"Come sit with us," Arlene said. "We've a story to tell."

Bill Madison sat down next to Jeff, took a sip of his coffee, and waited, a slight smirk on his face. He listened to the story and watched the performance as he and Jeff exchanged a glance. When it was over, he drained the last of his coffee and leaned back, "Yeah, I knew all of you were Jeff's women. I picked that out a while back and mentioned it to Jeff. It didn't take long to tell that Helen," he said, smiling at her, "was part of the group. I would be tickled to come to your wedding, Helen, and I'm deeply flattered that you would trust me and my copilot enough to invite us."

For a moment, the women seemed stunned that he already knew, but then they laughed and all had to hug him. "How did you know?" Laura asked. "We try to be so casual around other people."

"I'm a man. I can tell," he joked, since he had heard his wife give the female version of that statement many times. After everyone laughed, he continued, "Now what do I need to arrange for you in Atlanta?"

Jeff cleared his throat. "Frank said that he and Margaret were going to make all the arrangements and call you. I told him that we could do that just fine..."

"If he does it, you will be going to the funeral in a Rolls-Royce limousine, if they make one," he laughed.

Jeff laughed, also. "Yeah, I figured something like that, too. That's why I told him to just get us a couple of SUV's, without drivers, and a couple of hotel suites." Sobering, he continued, "We don't want to roll up to that church looking like a bunch of newly rich, strutting our money. I lucked up and made a lot of money, but we haven't forgotten our roots. There will be a lot of cops, blue-collar workers, and yes, even a few white-collar workers, and maybe even a couple folks with money there. Most of the people, though, will have to work hard for the rest of their lives to earn a living. Those that know me — and most will — know that I lucked out. My family and I will not flaunt our good luck in front of those good people."

There was silence for a moment, then Bill sighed. "Another reason why I like you people. Now," he said standing, "Kathy and I will take care of talking to Mr. Wainwright, and we'll have everything set for you by the time you get to Atlanta. You should have a couple of hours to change, and rest up a little before you have to go to the service. I'll have Kathy wake you an hour before we get to the airport, and fix some breakfast for you. That should give you a little more time to relax just before the funeral."

"No, she will not," Diana said. "She's a pilot now, and as Jeff said, we're perfectly capable of microwaving a few meals. I mean it," she admonished, when Madison started to protest. "You two have been up all day; now you're flying all night on our account. If either of you would like to take a nap back here, there's still room. And if you would wake us that hour out that you were talking about, we'll fix that meal you mentioned before we land, and we will prepare for the two of you, as well."

"Okay, okay," Madison laughed. "We'll leave you to your own devises. And thanks for the offer, but our seats will recline enough for a good nap. I'm going to take one shortly, then when Kathy gets enough of the adrenalin out of her system, she can take one, as well. Mr. Wainwright is renting us a car and rooms at your hotel, so we'll catch up on our sleep while you're gone. I'll write down all the particulars when he calls, and have them ready for you."

The captain rinsed his cup out and went back up front, after reminding them where the cabin light controls were.

-------

In the general aviation area, as they finished the checklist, Kathy sighed. "I'm really, really tired."

"That makes two of us, but I imagine you're more tired than I am. I know how hard that first trip is. Between the stress and the adrenalin, your body has taken a beating. As soon as we get these folks on their way, and get refueled, we'll find our rooms and sack out until they call us."

"I'm all for that," she said, making her way out of her seat. "You're going to drive, Bill. I'm afraid I'll go to sleep at the wheel, even for just these few blocks."

As they entered the passenger compartment, Jeff, acting very serious, said, "Captain, we all thought you would let Kathy land, but we realized it was you when there wasn't even a bump."

Madison, seeing the gleam in Jeff's eye, went along. "Well, I didn't want her to maybe scare our friends, so I took..."

Kathy elbowed him in the ribs. "Everybody here knows I landed the plane, and you're just teasing me," she laughed.

"That was you, Kathy?" Jeff said, still teasing. "I thought for sure it was the captain at the controls..." Then he lost it and chuckled. Sobering, he continued, "Seriously, Kathy, if we hadn't strongly suspected it was you, we would never have known it wasn't the captain, it was so perfect."

Kathy couldn't help but blush.

"She has the touch for it," Madison added. "Now David, although a good pilot, just didn't really care if it was a feather light landing or not. His attitude was something like: If he didn't blow a tire, it was a good landing. He didn't say exactly that, but I think that was what he thought," he chuckled.

After a good laugh, Madison and Kathy opened the door and extended the steps. Shortly, two large SUV's and one smaller one pulled up. As the captain was signing for the vehicles, Kathy handed Diana a manila folder. "There is the conformation number for the suites at the Hyatt, here at the airport, and we printed out a map to the church, in case you don't know exactly where it's located."

After all the women thanked Kathy and Bill, then got into the vehicles, Jeff stayed to talk for a moment. "Melissa and Jennie are going to want to see their families while we're here, then I'm going to need to talk to Fred, if I can. So, it will probably be late this afternoon, or maybe even tonight before we can get back. I'll call you an hour or so before we're ready to leave."

Jeff could see the relief wash over their faces. "We've got to have some down time to be legal, so late today would be great with us. Thanks, Jeff."

As the Matthews left, the pilots saw the fuel truck coming their way. "I hope that's ours," Madison said. "Just a little while longer and we'll be in dreamland."

Kathy stood beside her captain as sleepy as she had been in a long time. The person on the truck would be capable, but she knew Bill would watch him like a hawk, and she would, too. When the fueling was done, she knew that Madison would check the plane one more time, and she would take every step he did, but soon she would be at the hotel, and in her bed. She was a pilot now — for real — not just her name on a certification. A smile touched her tired face as the truck pulled up and stopped.



-------

Chapter 21

As they walked into the hotel lobby, Melissa quietly said to Ann, "Wow, this place is nice."

"I don't think it's any nicer than the one we stayed in when we came to talk to your parents," Arlene said.

"Yeah, but I was stressed out of my mind those two weeks. I guess I really didn't appreciate how nice it was."

"Me, too," from Melissa. "But now we don't have to worry. Nobody can take us from Jeff."

"I want to see my family," Jennie said, "but I hope my dad doesn't try anything."

"If he does, Dad will take care of everything, just like he did last time," Arlene assured them, but there was worry in her voice.

As soon as their meager amount of luggage — one hanging bag and one small case each — was loaded on a cart, they were escorted to their suites. They all met in one of the suites as Diana looked at her watch. "Okay, the time difference means that it's almost eight-thirty local time. We can rest, or nap for an hour, then an hour to get ready, and thirty minutes to drive to the church. I don't know whether this viewing is just for family or not..."

"It doesn't matter," Jeff broke in. "Fred will let us in, if it is. I just want to make sure he knows we're there. We'll stay out of the way, and get a seat in the church. Unless I miss my guess, there will be more people there than the church will hold. Fred knows a lot of people. This is the south, they'll come and support him."

Arlene hugged Jeff. Looking up at his face, she asked, "Is it all right if Jennie and Melissa let their folks know that we're in Atlanta. They both want to see their families if we have time this afternoon."

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, I knew this was coming. Talking with them on the phone from Colorado doesn't bother me, but I've got a little business to take care of this afternoon. And yes, by all means, see your families — under one condition," he admonished. "Diana goes with one of you, and Laura with the other. Better yet, Helen, Ann and Arlene go as well. And I want a promise out of you two," he said looking at Jennie and Melissa, his voice changing. "At the first sign of trouble — the first sign, I want you to get in the vehicle and leave, and call me on the cell."

By the time Jeff had finished his rules, Helen realized that she had been holding her breath. "Yes, Alpha," she teased, to break the tension a little. "Your wives will all come back home with us. We love these two," she said, smiling at the girls, "as much as you do."

"I'm sorry," Jeff said, "but our hold on them is tentative until they become eighteen and have an adult say in things. And, I feel for their parents. Probably, the girls would have been married in a year or two — at most — and gone anyway, but still their daughters have left. It just came a little early at seventeen, not to mention suddenly, but until they're eighteen, I'm uncomfortable with visits."

Jeff grabbed both of them and hugged them tightly. "Please be careful what you say, and you can bet that your parents will be pushing you for details. Get your stories straight about your lives with us before you get there."

"We know, Husband," Jennie and Melissa chorused. Each soul-kissed their husband, then the four girls, without apparent consultation, headed as a group for the other suite.

-------

There was only a small number of family in the church when they walked in. Jeff spotted Fred sitting near the open casket and stopped in front of his friend, who had been sitting with his eyes closed. Realizing that someone was near, he looked up at Jeff.

"My gosh, Jeff. I didn't expect you to be here all the way from Colorado." When Fred stood up and put out his hand, Jeff ignored it and hugged him.

"I'm sorry, Fred. And I'm sorry we weren't here earlier. We didn't hear until last night."

As they pulled back from each other, Fred paused for a second. "Last night? How in the world did you manage to get a flight that quickly?"

"Well, I have a friend who owns a jet, and he was good enough to roust out his pilots on short notice. We've only been here a couple of hours. I hope you don't mind our coming in during family time; we didn't make it for the regular viewing."

"Nonsense. I don't have a big family, anyway. The cops were my family." Turning toward the casket and Brenda, he continued, with a catch in his voice. "I still can't believe she's gone. I thought it would be me to go first. I had gained so much weight since I retired, but she never did. We were at the mall. We had just sat down at the food court, because she said she wasn't feeling well. She never said anything else; just slumped down and was unconscious. She lived a few hours at the hospital. The doctor said it was a massive heart attack. She never had any symptoms or anything. She just ... died," he finished, tears filling his eyes.

Diana and Arlene hugged the retired detective and told him how sorry they were. When they were finished consoling him, Jeff was blinking rapidly, and Fred had given up and pulled out a tissue. Diana and Arlene dug in their purses for their tissues, as well.

Jeff cleared his throat. "I have some people with me that I want you to meet. This is Jennie, and this is Melissa. They're my family now. They are both my legal charges, and are living with us, as is everyone here."

"It's nice to meet you," Fred started, but got hugs from the girls, as well.

"These next two are mother and daughter: Laura, my assistant, and her daughter, Ann."

Wilson didn't even bother trying to shake hands with them, just accepted their hugs and condolences.

"And last but not least, as they say, our teacher — and her qualifications are beyond anything you could imagine — Doctor Helen Boswell."

After Helen had hugged him and talked for a moment, Jeff continued, "We're going to go have a seat in the front, while we still can. When we came in, the police cars were already lining up; there must have been two blocks of them already. Shortly, there is going to be standing room only."

"Yeah, I think the whole department came to the viewing. I balled my eyes out in front of just about all of them."

"How long were you two together?"

"Thirty-one years last July."

After a moment, "Okay, we'll be down in the church. We'll see you after the graveside services."

"Thanks, Jeff. And thank all of you," he said turning to the others.

The way the church was set up, there was a slightly raised stage running across the front, with a podium for the pastor in the center. To the right side of the stage, there was an area usually used by the choir. During funerals, this area was designated for immediate family, and could be curtained off for privacy by pulling the curtain partway across the stage. An additional area on one side of the front where the congregation usually sat was also designated for extended family.

When Jeff and his family started for the congregation area, Wilson stood. "Jeff, you people sit in the family area there," he said pointing to the extended family area.

One of the ushers heard, and seated them on the second row. In a few minutes, the curtain was pulled across the front of the stage to give the family privacy for a few minutes before the funeral started. When it opened, the preacher was standing in the pulpit. Jeff decided that he was a class act. His sermon, consisting mostly of interludes from Brenda's life, was quickly over. There was one soloist, and the service was done.

Jeff sat intently, barely paying attention when Diana said something to him as the curtain was again pulled across the stage, and the pastor stepped through a gap in it to tell the audience where the graveside service would be. Then said the funeral director would be outside to assist in lining up the funeral possession.

Jeff suddenly handed Diana the set of keys to the rental SUV he had driven. "One of the pallbearers is sick. He looks like he's got a little age on him. I could see him through a crack in the curtain. They're helping him now. I'm going to take his place, so the service won't be interrupted." With that, he got up, casually mounted the two steps to the stage, and followed the pastor through the curtain.

The women looked at each other. "What's going on?" Laura asked.

Diana turned to the rest. "Jeff said that one of the pallbearers is sick. He's going to volunteer. Let's wait a minute or two to see if he's coming back. Then we will go on and get into the vehicles."

When Jeff didn't come back, Diana led the group on out of the church.

Inside, Jeff found a frustrated funeral director. Walking up behind him, he put his hand on the man's shoulder. "I'll fill in," he quietly said into his ear.

The man spun around. "Great. My partner is sick and couldn't make it today, then one of the pallbearers took ill..."

"I'll get this organized, if you need to go on outside."

"I do, indeed. Thank you," he effusively said, as he stuck out his hand.

"No problem," Jeff said, to a retreating back.

Jeff looked around at the other pallbearers. Whoever picked this group, must have decided to have all the uncles, of cousins, or something, without thought to whether they were physically able to do this.

Everyone seemed reluctant. Jeff pointed at two of them. "You two, please take the front." Positioning the others, putting the weakest looking person in the middle in front of himself, he continued, "Okay, if you haven't done this before, expect the casket to be heavy. You shorter people are going to have to really work hard or you will put the whole load on the rest of us. It's going to be awkward for you, just do the best you can. We'll carry the casket down the steps and place it in the hearse. Then at the graveside we'll take it from the hearse, walk slowly to the grave and carefully put it on the support apparatus over the grave. Again, walk slowly, watch where you're going. For goodness sake, don't stumble; we don't want to dishonor Brenda and Fred. Everyone in position — now lift."

Heartened by his direction, even the two short ones carried a good bit of the weight, putting both hands on their handles and straining at the awkward angle for them. Miraculously, they made it down the side steps and to the hearse without a bobble.

After the funeral director closed the doors of the hearse, he said, "Okay, we'll meet at the graveside. Without my partner, I didn't have anyone to bring the vehicle for the pallbearers."

Jeff went looking for his women as the funeral procession formed up.

Later, as they stood around after the graveside service waiting for the family to disburse, Diana asked, "Are you going to speak to Fred again before we go?"

"Yeah, and I need to talk to him a few minutes. I'm going to ask him to eat with us. His son and daughter are already gone. I don't know whether he has plans or not. He said something about both of his kids living out of state and would be leaving shortly after the funeral."

Diana frowned, "Are you sure, Jeff? Surely he would want to be with family right now."

"I don't know, Hon. It's just a feeling I have. Maybe everybody is thinking the same thing, and he doesn't have anything to do for the rest of the day. He doesn't need to be alone right now. His kids are almost thirty, and have been gone for years. I don't want to think about him sitting in that house all afternoon, all alone."

As the mourners thinned out, Jeff walked up to Fred from behind and put his hand on the detective's shoulder. "Fred, my family and I are going to eat. We would be flattered if you would come with us, but, of course, if you're going to be with family..."

Fred snorted. "Family? I sat and cried for three solid days with family — some I haven't seen in years. I'm sick of family, and they're sick of me. Rob and Angel are on their way back home, and when I walk into that empty room..."

"Do you have your car with you?"

"No, I came with the kids. I told them I would catch a ride back."

"Okay, you've got a ride. We'll just hang back over by the tree there," he said motioning to where his group was standing in the shade. "When you get ready, we'll go find something to eat. Take your time."

When they got to the restaurant, Jeff noted that Fred was a little unsteady getting out of the SUV. "When was the last time you put a good meal into your stomach?" Jeff asked, noting the pallor of his friend's face.

Fred stood waiting as the women got out of the vehicles. "I ate a little when someone stuck it in my hand. This has really kicked my ass. The last few days just doesn't seem real. It seems like someone else's nightmare."

"Okay. Let's get you inside and get a steak into you. A couple of beers probably wouldn't hurt. Then I've got a proposition for you. No details today. I wouldn't want to disrespect Brenda's memory by discussing business right after her funeral. I'll just give you a heads up on something I've been thinking about, and leave my card with you. At a more appropriate time, we'll talk."

The women, having heard what Fred said, took over then and got him inside, mothering him, teasing him a little. Jeff didn't even get to sit beside him; Arlene and Ann did. Before Fred quite knew what hit him, he was recounting "war" stories about his years with the police department. A couple of times, he even chuckled a little bit, before his wife's death would override, again. The women and girls continued to prompt him and talk with him, encouraging him to tell his stories. They were hanging on every word. Jeff leaned back and relaxed, proud of his harem, watching them try to ease Fred's sorrow.

After the meal, Jeff got Fred in the vehicle, then stood in the parking lot talking with his mates. "It will take about an hour and a half to get Fred back to Athens, then on over to Melissa and Jennie's..."

Diana interrupted. "Jeff, don't worry. I'm just as uptight about this as you are — we all are — but Jennie and Melissa need to see their families. They only live a couple of blocks from each other. If anything goes awry, we can get back in the SUV and be gone in a hurry. Plus, I brought a little persuasion with me," she said, opening her purse and pulling a couple of pictures partway out. "Just a reminder that we can dial 911 and start a whole lot of trouble for them if we have to."

"Shit, I hope it doesn't come to that. I'm not mad at their fathers. They were doing anything that I'm not doing. I feel guilty enough about this as it is. But I will not give up my wives," he finished, hugging Jennie and Melissa.

Melissa looked up at Jeff as she hugged him. "I don't think my dad will cause any trouble. When I talked to Mom on the phone, she said he was going to take the afternoon off from work to make sure he was there when I got there. I told her that we were concerned that he would cause trouble, but she said, he wasn't mad, and was just glad that you guys didn't push it and have him put in jail. She said that he just wanted to see me. I think everything will be fine with my family. It's Jennie's dad that I'm worried about."

Jennie, also still hugging Jeff, spoke up, "Mom said Dad was still mad, and said he was going to take off work to talk to me. If he starts anything, I promise, I'll leave. With all of us there, he won't be able to stop me. Don't worry; I am going home with my husband tonight."

As the rest got into their SUV, Diana hugged her husband. "I'll go with Jennie, and Laura will go with Melissa. Ann, Arlene and Helen will be with one or the other of us. I'll handle whatever goes down. Don't worry about us."

"Just don't kill anybody," Jeff, mostly teased.

Diana grinned and got into her vehicle.

When Jeff got into the SUV, Fred said, "Hey, if you guys have something to do, I can get Mark to run me home."

As Jeff started his vehicle, he glanced at Wilson. "It's just a little family thing. We're worried about Jennie and Melissa's fathers causing trouble, and were just getting our plans together."

Fred adjusted his seat to give him more room. "Looks like a lot has happened since I loaned you that van. I was worried about you that day. That was a mighty sick look on your face."

Jeff sat for a moment watching his wives and Helen back out of the parking space. He followed them out of the lot, then sat for a moment watching them as they pulled out into traffic, and eventually drove away down the street.

Jeff cleared his throat, looked at his friend, then headed for Fred's house. "When this is a little further behind us, we'll sit down and have a long conversation..."

Fred broke in with, "Damnit, Jeff, I may be retired, but I'm still a cop at heart. One major thing that helps make a good cop is a driving curiosity — as you certainly know. It helped make me a good detective on the force, and it sure didn't hurt with my detective agency, either. I've heard just enough, and have seen enough to pique my curiosity. How did those girls get to be your legal responsibility? And what the fuck is going on?" he asked, staring at Jeff as they took the entrance ramp to I-285.

"I hope we get to 29 before this thing become a parking lot," he said as he increased his speed to merge.

"Jeff, you're fucking stalling. What the fuck is going on with that har... ? Oh, shit. Oh shit," he said as things jelled in his mind.

Jeff ignored him, his face set, void of expression.

Fred glanced out the window, then back at Jeff. Crossing his hands on his belly, he chuckled, then began to laugh, more and more. Finally, he said, "Well, you always were different. And I cracked my window back there so I could eavesdrop. My body has gone to shit, but my ears are still as good as they ever were. You're worried about Jennie and Melissa's fathers trying to get them back. If you have legal custody, then that's what that conversation had to be about.

"And those hugs could have been hugs for a step-dad, or ... for someone a little different. Oh, shit," he chuckled again, "I can't believe this. Do they all have PMS at the same time of the month?" he rhetorically asked. Then, "How in the hell do you... ?" But he broke down into chuckles without finishing.

Jeff started to say something, when Fred gestured, "Take the next exit."

Jeff changed lanes, then glanced at his buddy. "I thought we were going to your house in Athens."

"I don't have a house any more. I'm staying in a motel. Brenda and I sold our house right after I sold my business." As they pulled onto the street, Fred gestured ahead of them. "There's a Dairy Queen on the right. Let's pull in and get a cup of coffee."

"Uh, I really need to get back..."

"Unless I miss my guess, that woman of yours — well, that main woman of yours, Diana, will take care of things. I suspect that if you get involved there will be a lot more hassle. Now, you've got a phone and every one of them seems to have one, as well. Best to just let them handle it. Besides, like I said before, you just piqued my curiosity, then dropped the subject. That ain't gonna work."

Jeff turned his indicator on and turned into the lot. Pulling into a parking place and shutting the motor off, he said, "You just buried your wife. Now isn't the time to talk business..."

Fred started to open the door, but stopped and turned to Jeff. "We need to have an understanding. I spent thirty-one years with the best woman in the world. She was my wife, my lover, and my best friend. Mourning for her will never end. I've already thought about eating my gun. Going back to that motel room doesn't leave a lot for me to do.

"I'd hate to meet Brenda again one of these days and have to face her after turning belly up because I couldn't handle her death. She would be pissed. Now if you've got something to talk about that will get my mind off what's happen to me — even for a little while — you'll be doing me a favor. Just don't mind me if I spring a leak every now and then. I'll try not to embarrass you too much. Now let's go get some coffee. They have a few tables on the side under those trees," he said, gesturing, "where we can be private."

After getting their coffee and an ice cream, they walked out the side door to sit under the shade of an old oak that had miraculously been left when the restaurant had been built.

As they relaxed, Jeff said, "Now what's this about selling your house?"

"Well, let me back up a bit. About a year ago, I was approached by one of the insurance companies about property recovery. We're talking about big-money thefts. They had already had two agencies try to find their stuff, and of course, thought that the owner might have something to do with it — fraud. I missed on a couple, then hit two really big ones in a row.

"They were down to the desperate stage, and were offering forty percent of the insured value. Then I hit on a couple of smaller claims. Well, Jason — you remember Captain Kershner — has been trying to buy me out, off and on, for a while. His wife owned some property down on I-85, and the state put an exit right next to it a while back. The property value skyrocketed. They held out for a few years, then sold to Cracker Barrel, and a couple more restaurants. Well, I held out too, but for a different reason. Hell, I liked what I was doing. Finally, Brenda and I decided to sell our business. Then we sold the house and bought an RV. They're putting some extras on it now — yeah, yeah, I know. But hell, we were going to stay in Florida for the winter, then do a tour of the US come spring.

"I guess," he said, choking up for a moment before he cleared his throat and went on, " ... that isn't going to happen now. We talked about selling the RV after our tour, and maybe buy us a house somewhere else. We thought we would find a place we liked on our trip and when we got tired of traveling around, start over in someplace quiet.

"Hell, this area has gotten to where it's like living in New York, or something. Atlanta has grown so much that what used to be way out of the city is now part of the downtown. I'm beginning to hate the traffic. Used to you only had to worry about traffic at rush hour, now it seems like there is more traffic at ten in the morning than there used to be at five in the afternoon. You had the right idea, just leaving it all and moving to Colorado."

"So now what are you going to do?" Jeff asked, looking as a young woman parked and got out of her vehicle, then walked into the restaurant, her delightful body encased in a pair of shorts that she must have had trouble getting into. She glanced over her shoulder at Jeff as she pulled the door open and went inside.

"Those women of yours catch you doing that, and you're going to be in trouble," Fred allowed.

"Oh, they let me look. But beyond that..."

"Brenda used to give me hell for looking when we were young, but when I got old, she just grinned about it." Clearing his throat, he continued, "Now, I've got this humongous RV sitting at the dealership almost ready to go, and I don't give a shit about going anywhere. Without Brenda, who am I going to talk to when I see something interesting? I've already started to say something to her a dozen times, before I realize ... that she's never going to answer me again."

Jeff had to force his thoughts away as he saw the sparkle of unshed tears in his friend's eyes. "Then I'm glad I decided to say something to you today about an idea I've been mulling over for a while. I told you on the phone about selling my invention and making some money?"

"Yeah, and after you talked to Mark just after you left, it spread pretty fast," Fred mused aloud. "Cops like to gossip about as much as old women," he chuckled.

"Well, the exaggerations, this time, probably aren't," Jeff said. "I lucked up and the sale of the invention made me a ton of money. We wound up with a conference center for our home that was built by the company that bought my invention. The owner of the company built the place to his specifications, and well, it's unbelievable. It is sitting on a large plateau about nine-tenths of the way up a mountain. Both sides of the area around my property are virtually inaccessible — some of the most rugged country you could ever imagine. My nearest neighbor is down the mountain over a mile away.

"My driveway is more than a quarter of a mile long — as the crow flies — and it goes up an area that almost vertical. That part of the drive is cut into the cliff with switchbacks at the end of each section as the road climbs. It will take a big truck, but an eighteen-wheeler can't make the turns.

"We ran into some problems in Denver a while back, plus we've come to realize that being rich has a drawback or two that I've never really considered before. I've done a little research lately and decided that we've been lucky, probably because we haven't flaunted our money. But most of the truly rich people have long since realized that they have to have some type of security just to make life easier, or in the worse case, survive.

"I've got several projects going; one that's going to be rather — well — I guess large would tend to be a bit of an understatement, plus I pissed off a real bad-boy a while back. In short, I need someone who knows what he is doing — and who I can trust — to head up some security for me involving this project." As Fred started to say something, Jeff held his hand up a little to forestall him. "I'm not talking about a bunch of guards, or something like that — not necessarily, anyway.

"As we speak, I'm having some of the most futuristic security equipment installed that you could ever think of. After using your van, and after knowing you for years, and with your police and military background, I think I'm looking at the person who could take over that aspect of my life for me.

"If you ever get tired of it, and want to roll around in that RV of yours for a few months, then you can do so. Or if you just want to do something else, there won't be any hard feelings. I just need you to get me started, and at a minimum, show us how to secure that mountaintop for my family, mostly involving this new project, if that's all the time you can give me.

"But if you want to stay, I'll move you, buy you a house in the area, or you can stay in your RV on our property, or both, for that matter. You decide on what you want to do. The Winter Park area is beautiful. Just tell me what you want for salary, what kind of equipment and staff you want, and it's a done deal. Oh, and I've got the best health plan you've ever heard of," Jeff finished with a grin.

Fred realized that the big spoon of ice cream he had been holding just above his dish was beginning to melt and drip. Not even tasting the ice cream, he put it in his mouth and swallowed, absently wiping with a napkin. "Well, shit. When you want to talk, you want to talk," he chuckled, unknowingly paraphrasing something Kathy had said earlier when they told her about the wedding.

He looked off to the side, just staring at nothing, and thinking. Honey, I already miss you. We used to talk over everything. Now there's just me. What am I going to do? Jeff's a good guy. He always does what he says. When he says something, it's a promise. What am I going to do without you? I don't want to go to Florida, now. All I would do would be to wish you were there. Shall I take Jeff up on his offer?

From the depths of his mind, so clear he could almost feel her sitting beside him: We loved Winter Park when we took that trip through the Rockies all those years ago, back when the kids were little. You've always raved about Jeff. Don't sit and mope for me; we'll be together again, someday. In the meantime — don't you dare break your neck trying to ski. With all that bay window in front, you'll overbalance and fall on your face the first time you put on a pair of skies. But go for it Big Boy. I'll be there with you.

As Jeff tried not to stare as his friend, Fred's eyes overflowed and tears literally poured down his face.

Fred stuck out his hand, the last of his ice cream brushed aside, unnoticed, "What say, I come look at this mountain of yours. I really want to spend some time visiting my kids before I take up something permanent somewhere, though..."

Jeff and Fred spent the next hour packing Fred's clothes, and getting his belongings into the SUV. He called Mark to pick up his car and leave it at Mark's house. As he got back into the SUV after checking out of the motel, Jeff's phone rang.

Jeff answered to hear Diana chuckle. "We're on the way back to the hotel. All your wives intact, though one of them is a little pissed."

Jeff couldn't help it; he could feel the grin spreading across his face. "And why is one of my wives pissed?" he asked in front of Fred, who grinned a knowing grin.

Diana continued. "Melissa's family, including her dad, were super nice, and had a nice visit with their daughter. But Jennie's dad kept getting more and more of a smart mouth until he and Jennie tangled up. While they were arguing, I took the pictures out, stuck them in his face and told him I would put his ass so far under the jail that he would never see daylight again. I lied and told him that you had a friend in the penal system that would see that 'Bubba' got a new 'girlfriend.' I told him that you were the reason that he didn't go to jail about fucking his kids, and that I still wanted his ass behind bars. I was so pissed at him, that he believed me.

"He postured a time or two, then went off to sulk. He must have thought over what I said, because he eventually came back and apologized. Then claimed he was just worried about Jennie. I told him that if he behaved himself, she would get to visit (supervised, of course) every now and then. But if I ever heard anything else like his earlier comments, that I would push you into bringing the police into his escapades like we should have done to start. I thought he was going to have a stroke.

"As we were leaving, I got him aside and told him that Jennie would be back for a visit if he shut his mouth about her coming back to live with them, but if we ever had any trouble, or I heard, even a rumor about him badmouthing you, or us, I would call the police and e-mail them the pictures. I also reminded him that she would be eighteen soon, and if he kept acting up, she would never want to see him, and we would have nothing to do about it. It would just be her. I think that got the point across as much, if not more, than anything else. I seriously don't think we'll have any more problems out of him. But I'm worried about Jennie's sister. She was really nice and she and Jennie talked like crazy — still. I don't know. Anyway your harem is on the way."

"Way to go, Gal," Jeff said, proud of her, as usual. "Shall I call Captain Madison and tell him we'll be there in an hour or so?"

"Yeah, that will be fine."

"And Diana, the thing we talked about concerning Fred; well, we have another guest for the wedding."

"That's great. Have you told him who is getting married?"

"Nope. Not yet. Shall I let it be a surprise?" he laughed.

Diana chuckled a little. "Very funny. Don't you dare do that to him. Now, got to go, I don't like to talk on the cell while I'm in traffic. We'll see you at the hotel. Bring Fred up. He can stay in the sitting room while we dress. I'll tell the girls they have to be decent."

They said their goodbyes.

Jeff pulled out of the motel lot, then glanced over as Fred asked, "Whose getting married? You didn't divorce Diana after you borrowed the van, did you, and you're getting remarried now?"

"Nope," Jeff said, glancing in the mirrors and changing lanes, heading back for the interstate. "I'm marrying Helen," he said, deadpan.

"I figured it was something like that," Fred at last said. "How did you get Diana to agree to having — what? — six women. I've known a couple of guys over the years that lived with two women. One who even lived with a mother and daugh..." he suddenly stopped.

"Seven. Yeah, Arlene's part of it, too," Jeff said, as he accelerated up the ramp to the interstate. "But before you get too upset, you need to hear the story and maybe talk with Arlene and Diana. I didn't start this, Fred. And to answer your question about getting Diana to agree, she was the one that set it up. Although, in the beginning, her intentions were only for Arlene to seduce me to get my mind off what I saw when I borrowed the van. The short of it is that Diana and Arlene were being coerced into fucking this idiot. I guess I was gone so much that Diana just lost hope of me being around enough to take care of things.

"But when I didn't seduce — Arlene switched to plan 'B.' Please try to keep an open mind until you can talk to them at length. For a while, I was far from comfortable with it, but Arlene is my wife now, just as much as any of the others. Oh, obviously, there isn't anything legal, or documented with the state. I don't want to spend ten years in jail, but in our minds, they're a lot more than lovers, or mistresses; they're my wives, and they're dead serious about my being their husband."

Fred sighed. "I'm far too emotional today to make any kind of judgment, and I have too much respect for you to just condemn what you've done, outright. But, I've got a daughter that's twenty-six years old. I can't imagine having sex with her; although, I can see that she's sexy. And, although it's beside the point, she's married to a complete asshole. I never did see what she saw in that loser."

Jeff slowed for a truck to pass, then accelerated to merge in front of the next car. "I guess, like they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Maybe she sees something that you and I can't. Of course," he laughed, "I never did see a man that I thought was beautiful," he finished, trying to lighten the situation a little — bothered by Fred's reaction to Arlene being part of the group.

As they slowed to a crawl in the late evening traffic, Jeff held the phone in front of him, a little over the steering wheel so he could see to dial and still see the traffic he was following.

"Madison," the captain said.

"Hi, this is Jeff. We're headed back to the hotel to change. I don't know whether the girls are going to want to eat before we leave or not. We ate late. But we should be back within and hour and a half to two hours. Do we need to pick up anything for the plane? I know we depleted the supplies pretty drastically last night and this morning."

Madison laughed. "No, we're at the plane doing just that right now. Anything extra you would like while I'm doing it?"

"No," Jeff said, easing up another few feet as traffic stalled. "Just make sure you have a lot. I've got an idea this bunch is going to be hungry after a while. It's been a very stressful day. When we get back on that plane, they — heck, all of us — are going to be relieved. And by the way, we have another person going home with us for a visit. He's got two large bags. Is that going to be a problem?"

"Not at all," Madison said, "unless your ladies went shopping today. With just the cases they came with, plus your guest's things, we're still fine. I'll add a couple more steaks. Kathy already figured that you folks would be eating a little heartier tonight than you did last night. So, we'll be ready."

"Thanks Captain. We'll be there if I can ever get off this parking lot that they laughingly call an interstate."

Madison laughed and hung up.

Forty-five minutes later, they finally walked into the suite with Jeff's nerves a little more frazzled than they had been. "Now I know why I always refused to move to Atlanta," he groused.

"Well, at least we don't have to get back on the interstate to get to the plane. Should we pick up some food for the flight?" Diana asked, then locked her mouth to his, pressing her breasts hard against his chest the way she knew he liked.

As they pulled apart, his spirits a lot better, and his dick a lot harder, he answered, "No, Bill and Kathy are ahead of us on that. He was stocking the plane when I called, and I think he expects us to eat a lot more than we did last night."

Everyone was in the one suite, dressed in casual clothes, and ready to go. Fred had changed in the motel room, so Jeff was the only one still with a suit on. "I think I'll just get rid of this coat and tie and..."

All the women looked at him. Jeff grinned. "Okay, quick shower, then back to the jeans. See what I have to put up with, Fred?" he joked as he headed for the bedroom.

Arlene grabbed Fred's hand and let him to the couch where she started telling him all about the wedding that was to take place tomorrow night.

-------

The flight back was bumpy from time to time, and they had to divert around some weather about halfway, causing a thirty-minute addition to their travel time. Boulder's weather was fine, however, and they exited the plane to the promise of a clear, but crisp dawn. As they walked down the ramp, Dave backed his Escalade near the plane and got out.

"When you called and said you were coming back with your new head of security and some extra luggage, I thought I would bring another vehicle down so everyone would be more comfortable."

Jeff laughed and mock punched Dave's shoulder. "Damn, I knew there was some reason I hired you. You make a heck of a good bellhop."

"I'll 'bellhop' your ass, Boss. Now who's this?" he said, sticking his hand out to Fred.

"This is Fred Wilson," Jeff said, laughing, "and this is Dave Henson, my used-to-be contractor, who is now my project manager."

"Ah, it's just a big title for gofer," Dave teased as the men shook.

Shortly all the luggage was in Dave's vehicle. Kathy and Bill got the jet refueled and taken care of. People divided up among the three vehicles, and the little parade of Escalades started toward the mountain. Before they had gone ten miles, Bill and Kathy were asleep, and shortly, Kathy's head was against his shoulder, where she snuggled as she dreamed.

In Winter Park, they pulled into the little restaurant just as it was opening. When doors started slamming, Bill woke up from a deep sleep to discover Kathy snuggled against him. He gently shook her shoulder while calling her name. When she woke and opened her eyes, she was staring at his. She suddenly realized how close she was to his face, then figured out that her head was on his shoulder. She jerked back apologizing.

Madison laughed. "Don't be absurd. Why in the world would I be mad with a beautiful woman resting her head on my shoulder?" he teased.

Looking in the mirror, Kathy fussed, "I'm a mess. My hair is sticking up ever which way," she said, opening her purse and finding her brush.

Madison found his hat and put it on. "That's what hats are for," he said, his eyes sparkling, in a better mood than he had been in days.

Kathy quickly brushed her hair and jumped out of the vehicle, hurrying after the handsome man that was waiting to open the restaurant door for her.

The lady that owned the restaurant had gotten used to the Matthews clan. She didn't even mention any of her signs about if you were in a hurry that you should go somewhere else, nor did she prepare one order at a time. She and her daughter just pushed two of the big tables together in the center of the floor, and shortly brought out platters of food: home fries, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, biscuits — it went on and on. They ate until they couldn't swallow any more of the delicious cooking.

Jeff paid the bill, then just as everybody was filing out the door, he left a tip on the table that set the all-time record for the restaurant, quickly leaving before the mother and daughter noticed how much it was.

As they pulled out of the lot, through the window, Melissa saw the owner pick up the money, a look of shock on her face. As she looked toward the vehicles, Melissa finger waved to her. The woman smiled, and mouthed, "Thank-you."

Melissa, having seen what Jeff put on the table, mused to herself as they fell in line behind his vehicle, Yep, my husband is quality, and tonight we add another great person to our wonderful marriage. She settled back in her seat, a smile on her face as she remembered her wedding night. Oh, Teach is gonna be sore tomorrow. But I'll bet it takes a week to get the grin off her face. She sniggered under her breath as she thought about Helen walking stiff-legged.

Glancing at Helen sitting in the front next to Diana, who was driving, Melissa thought, I wonder if Miss Dignified Teacher, diplomas in everything, will have balls enough to spread her legs and decorate the kitchen floor. Hah. You thought he fucked you the other night, but Diana and Laura told us he was very, very gentle with you. Wait until he gets you on all fours and checks your tonsils the hard way. Oh, I can't wait for tomorrow morning. Oh boy, I just thought of something. Jeff didn't get any last night, and Diana will make sure he doesn't get off today. You'll have cum spurting out your ears before the night is over.

Melissa giggled, and Helen turned to glance at her. "Tell you tomorrow, Teach," she said smiling. Yeah she's going to make a fine addition to our family, and one heck of a sister-wife.

A little later, they turned off the state road onto the county road, and headed for their mountain.



-------

Chapter 22


The bright morning sunlight had everyone sleepy by the time they got to the retreat. As they got out of the vehicles and grabbed their bags, the back door opened and Frank and Margaret rolled a cart out onto the stoop.

Jeff opened the hatch on the Escalade he had been driving, then stood looking at the two on the porch. "Where did you get that?" he laughed.

"Just down the hall in its closet," Frank responded.

Jeff and Diana both started laughing for real.

"What's so funny?" Margaret asked, as she helped load the cases onto the cart.

"Do you know how much stuff we've carried back and forth by hand? And you casually roll that thing out. Man, I feel like a fool. I guess that's one closet I didn't look in."

"There are other carts downstairs in the lobby entrance closet," she said. "Sorry, we didn't think to mention them."

After another chuckle, Jeff introduced Fred to everybody, and Margaret hugged him, giving him her condolences. Frank shook his hand and did the same.

As soon as they were inside, Jeff turned to Laura, "We need..."

Kathy finally got around everyone else and launched herself at Frank, interrupting Jeff. As she hugged Wainwright, she quietly said, "Thank you so much for the job. I know I don't have any experience, but I'll make you proud of me." Then with tears and a shaky voice, "And thank you so much for paying off all my bills. I was about to get desperate, and the bonus... I just don't know what to say. I still can't believe you did it."

Pulling away from Wainwright, wiping her tears, she hugged Margaret. "I know you had a hand in this, too. Thank you so much. You've made my life just wonderful."

Margaret chuckled, finally untangling herself. Holding Kathy at arms-length as she wiped her tears with a tissue, Margaret said, "We've paid for schooling and other things for a lot of people. When we can, we like to think of our company as a great big family."

After a while, Jeff tried again, "Kathy and Bill have got to be exhausted..."

"We've got it Jeff," Jennie and Melissa said in unison. Then to Captain Madison and Kathy, "Come on, Guys. We'll show you to your rooms." As they helped with the luggage and took off down the hall, they were talking a mile a minute with the pilots.

As they rounded the corner, Kathy waved back at everyone else, as Jennie continued with, "We'll get you up in plenty of time to eat and get dressed before the wedding..."

Jeff, realizing what was about to happen — grabbed Helen. Lightly kissing her, he then whispered. "You'll be mine tonight," then nuzzled her neck as he hugged her.

Whatever Helen started to say didn't get said, as Diana and Laura took an arm each and pulled her away. "Now, none of that. You can't see your bride until tonight," Diana teased as they herded her in the direction of the honeymoon suite.

"We'll take care of these," Arlene said, as she and Ann turned the cart bearing their luggage toward their suite.

Just before they rounded the corner, Ann yelled. "Get some rest Husband. You're going to need it." Laughing, the girls disappeared, pushing the luggage cart.

Wainwright grinned at the girls, then asked Jeff, "Are you going to sack out for a while?"

"Yeah, but not right now. Didn't I see a lot more people working on the security system when we came in?"

"Yes, you did. Let's stop by the kitchen and get some coffee, and we can catch you up on what's going on."

"Sound like a good idea," Evie said, walking up.

"I'm going to go be with Helen, Margaret said. I'll see you in a little while, Jeff."

Jeff acknowledged her, then started to turn into the kitchen, when Evie said, "I'll bring us some coffee. Why don't we sit down in the living room? I'm sure you're tired Jeff, after being on that plane most of the night."

Jeff objected, saying that he wanted a sweet roll or two, but Evie shooed him away, saying, "Quit worrying about being sexist, Jeff. You bring us coffee, and do other things for us all the time. Now go sit down in the living room. Margaret and I made a surprise for you. I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, Evie pushed a serving cart with coffee and fresh-baked cinnamon rolls into the room. "I've had this recipe for a while, but have never tried it, so when Margaret and I got up early this morning, we decided to give it a whirl. I don't know whether these will be as good as your wives could make, but we made plenty of them, and we tried to stick right with the recipe..."

They shortly found out that they were great. Dave, who had also joined them, winked at Evie as Jeff, Frank and Fred seemed to inhale the pastries.

Fred looked up with a guilty look as he reached for his third roll. "Man, those are good they're..."

"... fabulous," Jeff finished for him, laughing. "Wow. Don't lose that recipe. Diana is going to want it when she tastes these."

Fred laughed, taking another big bite, then reaching for his coffee. "As far as I'm concerned, you've got this one nailed. Don't change a thing in that recipe, Brenda will..." he stopped, embarrassed when he realized he was talking about his wife as if she were still alive.

Jeff cleared his throat. "She would have loved them, Fred."

After another long pause, Jeff, trying to change the subject, said, "Okay, you were going to tell me about the extra people working on the security system."

Frank took another sip of coffee, and then held the platter so Evie could get another roll. Sitting the platter back down a moment later, he looked at Jeff, "With the wedding tonight, and the couple of days of bad weather we've had, I thought it would be best to get enough people up here to finish the job. A crew finished up an installation of something else they were working on, and when Tingle mentioned it on the phone, I had him fly them over. They worked late yesterday and finished everything inside the house. They still have a little to do on the drive, then quite a bit on the back side of the property, but they should be out of here before late afternoon."

"Frank, this is costing..."

"A trivial amount, but should add a large amount to your security, and maybe even mine and Margaret's, if it ever becomes necessary to use this fortress that we're going to build. We've set this system up so that it can be drastically expanded. So don't get your panties in a wad... Oh, crap, Evie. Sorry about that."

Evie laughed as she wiped her fingers with a napkin. "Mr. Wainwright, I work around a bunch of construction people. If that's the worst I hear in a day, then I must have gone deaf. We only have a few women working on the crews, but trust me, they can hold their own in the language department, and then some."

"Okay, Frank, I'll quit for now," Jeff sighed. "So we're almost done with the security installation. What about the falls for the indoor range?" he asked turning to Evie. "I saw the company van in the back? How in the world did you get them out so early?"

Dave chuckled, glancing at Evie. "She called them yesterday and told them we were going to be preparing for a wedding Friday night, and Saturday was out of the question. They usually send two people out to assist in the initial assembly. They sent four. She has a gift," Dave laughed.

Yes, she certainly does. But how much that thing cost probably had a little something to do with it, too,  Jeff mused to himself.

Note: The indoor range that Evie and the crews are building has a backstop that has a man-made falls which traps particulate matter (Lead particles, and powder residue, etc.) in an indoor range. Instead of water, the falls uses an oil, similar to olive oil. When the fired round goes through the falls, it hits an angled steel slope, also flowing with oil. The round is directed toward the top through a baffle system where its momentum is canceled. The projectile falls back down the slope to an oil-submerged conveyor system. This systems moves the projectile to a container, where when full, is automatically sealed to go back to the bullet manufacturer for reuse.

"We had our crews come in early today, as well," Evie said, smiling at her husband. "We'll get the initial setup going, and pick back up Monday. The falls, and most of their other equipment are pretty much all modular. They said that two of the techs would come back Monday, though, but I think we could handle it without them if we had to. But the way we're building it, the falls has to go in first, other than the extra shielding and the support network behind it.

"The indoor range is going to be time consuming, but everything else is straightforward. Everyone is going to knock off at three, since they came in so early. That will give us plenty of time to get set up for the wedding without having to worry about someone outside the family minding our business."

Jeff was touched that Evie included herself and her husband as family. "Thanks Evie. You and Dave have done a wonderful job with everything you've been involved with. And Frank, that, of course, goes for you, too. Hell, you're even fronting the money for the fortress," he finished, laughing.

"Well, I'm not worried about my money — I'll get that back, and besides," he kidded, "We haven't really spent any money on the fortress at all, yet, and we can chalk up the security enhancements to testing new equipment — which it is — and Wainwright, Inc., is paying for that."

"Okay, okay," Jeff chuckled. "Who's going to bring Fred up to speed on the new system, not to mention, me? One of the reasons for his visit is to show him what we've got, and to get his input and guidance for a total security system. Not for just our home, but for the whole thing, fortress included. If worse comes to worse, and one of our 'friends' should bring some nuclear backpacks into the states and do away with several of our cities, we want a security system in place that will protect us from aggressors, domestic and foreign, as much as is feasibly possible."

There was quiet for a while as everyone digested this, and the emphasis that Jeff had put on his statements.

"For now," Frank said, picking up the carafe and offering Evie more coffee. She pushed her cup toward him on the table. Topping her coffee up, he continued, "Margaret and I can train you on the system." Looking over at Fred as he filled Jeff's cup, he said, "We're developing the manuals now, so as you learn, we would appreciate your input as to what we need to add, or change in the wording."

"Damn, is your stuff so new, it doesn't even have a manual, yet?" Fred asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin and contemplating another roll.

Wainwright laughed, "It doesn't even have a name yet, and we've already sold several installations to Uncle."

"I thought everything had to be bid on with the feds," Dave said, almost musing aloud.

Wainwright sat back down after offering everyone else coffee. Taking a sip, and gathering his thoughts, he said, "Basically, you're right. We frequently bid on things, but when we have a product that no one else has, such as Jeff's 'radar, ' it doesn't go down quite that way. Particularly when the items we sell are, shall we say, a little more than confidential. Oh, it's probably just about general knowledge in certain circles that the U.S. is 'experimenting' with a 'new type' of radar. When only one contractor has an item, and it's patented or copyrighted, the politicians get approval through the houses, and the government just buys it. Then if the company is a public company, stock gets bought by our 'friendly' — say corrupt — politicians before the sale is approved. Then the sale goes through.

"But there's a bump with my company. I own it, lock, stock and barrel. A lot of the politicians don't like doing business with me, because I can't be bought or bribed, and I'm not a bit interested in giving the bastards kickbacks if they vote to buy my products. And they can't buy stock in my company. Only problem is that they can't buy my stuff anywhere else.

"The military big dogs get to biting at the politician's asses about new technology, etc., and I have a damn good PR department to let everybody know that there is new technology ready to be released. When the military folks hear about the new stuff, and that a foreign country is going to, maybe, get it before the U.S., the pols (as I like to call them) have to get off their asses and make sure our country stays ahead, if they expect to get reelected.

"If I have to go through a whole lot of bullshit, I just up the price, and tell them what the price would have been, if they had been realistic. Politicians hate to be honest. It just goes against the grain with them. Right now, they're fu... uh, messing with us about Jeff's radar. They're going to buy it. I know it, and they know it. If they don't come around shortly, I'll start talking to Britain and Canada. I've already demonstrated it to several of the big dogs in our air force and navy. It's just a matter of time.

"I've told the pols that the price is going up shortly, so chances are, I'll have a sale on a few hundred units for 'testing' by the time we reach our final size optimization," he concluded, seemingly a little embarrassed by having mounted his soapbox.

Before the conversation could go further, Arlene and Ann burst into the living room. Grabbing Fred by his hands, they pulled him to his feet. "Time for a tour," they said in unison.

As everyone laughed, Arlene added, "We put your bags in a suite, but we need to show you around."

Fred was whisked out the door before he quite knew what was happening. Arlene winked at her husband as they walked by.

Both girls made sure that they occasionally brushed a breast against his arm as they showed him around, keeping up a near-constant stream of chatter, interspersed with questions to take his mind off his sorrow for a little while.

Fred knew what they were doing, but was flattered that they cared enough to help him as best they could. Soon, he was into their play, as anxious to see what was in the next area, as they appeared to be to show him.

Jeff took a short nap, but got up around eleven. Finding Margaret in the kitchen helping to prepare lunch, he asked her where Frank was.

"He said he was going to check out something about the security system." Grinning, she stepped over to the system's keyboard and typed for a moment. After only a second or two, one of the monitors high on the kitchen wall above the cabinets lit up with a view of the area well past the outdoor range. The camera zoomed in on two men, a green box highlighting Wainwright's image, as they talked near two large trees.

Margaret smiled at Jeff, and without comment turned back to lunch preparations.

Yep,  Jeff thought, there's a lot I need to learn about this thing. Looks like — a whole lot.

He went out the back, found the last remaining ATV, and took off for Frank.

As Jeff pulled up next to the two men a few minutes later, Frank finished their conversation and climbed on behind Jeff. "Just in time. Now I don't have to walk back. My ride went somewhere else while Carl and I were talking."

Jeff turned the four-wheeler back toward the house at a sedate pace so they could easily hear each other as Frank continued, "They're just finishing fine tuning everything. They've been testing, and tweaking, for the last couple of hours. If there's anything wrong with it, we can't find it.

"Yesterday, I told them that we were having a party tonight, so they were here really early this morning and haven't even taken a break all day. They're a good bunch of people, and work well together, even though they're from two different crews.

"If this had been the usual government installation, they would have been gone as soon as everything checked within specs. (Not that this exact system has ever been installed anywhere.) They've pushed things beyond specs because they respect you. It didn't hurt that the R&D folks that you and Laura helped, bragged about how smart you and your assistant are, and what nice people you turned out to be. Not to mention the way you treated the first crew when they got here. They're just tweaking to make everything absolutely perfect. And, of course, it doesn't hurt that you're a friend of the boss," he laughed.

"I'm impressed," Jeff said, "and that's pretty much why I came looking for you. I know they've worked long hours, and just looking at the installation in the kitchen and the suite, I know that they went out of their way to do a class job. I want to give each of them a little bonus..."

"Not necessary, Jeff. First because it's their job, and second I've already talked to accounting to add a little something to their paychecks."

"Frank, I'm sure you did," Jeff said, trying to look over his shoulder at Wainwright, and hitting a small rut in the process. "And, knowing you, I'll bet that 'little something' is a bit larger than it sounds, still... I would like to make their trip a little nicer from my family and myself."

Frank chuckled.

"As I mentioned, before, Diana and I aren't too enthused about giving to large charities. Even by their own books, a large percentage of the money goes to 'overhead.' Makes us wonder how much really gets to the individual in need. We like to see the workingman and woman get a hand up, instead of always giving to people who expect a hand out. The ones that work their asses of all their lives are taxed the most by the government to pay for all the lazes that never had a job and never will. Diana suggested that we have lunch for your crews when they finish, and there'll be an envelope by their plates, if you don't object. Just a thank-you from the Matthews."

Wainwright laughed out loud, then. "Hell, there will be a fight to see who gets to go the next time we decide to send a crew up here. Yeah, Jeff, it's fine with me. Margaret and I appreciate it."

An hour later, the girls ushered the installation crews into the large dining room. Several of the people were obviously hesitant, probable because of dirty, and sometimes muddy work clothes. Two of the women had almost panicked when they were told that they would be eating with the Matthews in the large dining room. The Matthews were reported to be nice people, but eating in the elegant dining room with dirty clothes, regardless of how much they had hastily scrubbed their faces and hands in the beautifully appointed bathrooms they were ushered to, they were still very uptight.

Diana and Laura, anticipating this, had used the beautiful teenagers to direct them, and to try to make them more comfortable. As soon as everyone was seated, most obviously tense, Diana walked around the table, deliberately standing by one of the men who had spent the morning crawling about the boulders of the driveway, his clothes muddy and wet.

Placing a hand on his shoulder as she stood behind him she said, "Frank tells us that the installation is complete, and that you have gone out of your way even more by tweaking it beyond what is necessary for a perfect setup. He has also told us that you worked extra hours, and came in very early this morning so that you would be finished well before our little celebration tonight. For those things and for your caring, we would like to thank you. And... judging by some of your expressions, I and the rest of our family think that maybe some of you are a little uncomfortable because you didn't have time to dress for dinner."

There was a titter of laughter as a group of weary people looked at each other, and began to relax a little. "This beautiful place of ours, that used to be your conference center, still intimidates us a little, even after living here for almost three months. But remember this: three months ago we worked for a living like you people, and we respect hard work — always will. And know this: if you leave a little dirt on our carpet, and a little mud stain on our chairs, we respect that you got that dirt on you while trying to make our home safer. Now for those of you that are sitting up straight, afraid to touch this beautiful table for fear of leaving a stain on it from your sweat, put your arms on the table and relax. It will clean. Partake of our food that the women of this house prepared, and enjoy yourselves.

"We're the cooks here. Oh, we're going to have a caterer bring our food in for tonight, since it's a celebration, but all the meals in this wonderful house are cooked by us, not some chef. We're just working people that got lucky, so forget about the Mr. or Mrs., and all that. I'm just Diana." Then she introduced all the other women, then the pilots, Dave and Evie, and Fred.

When she finished, she continued, "Now the way to show us that you like our food is to eat hearty. Oh, and there's an envelope by your plate. It's yours. We only ask that you not open it until you have left. Now let's eat. I'm starved," she said sitting down. Picking up a platter of steaks in front of her, she took one and started the platter around.

The tension, almost a palatable thing a few minutes before, seemed to flow out of the room. Jeff, raising his voice a little over the sudden laughter and clatter of utensils, said, "You guys gonna keep all that chicken down there for yourselves, or can I have some of it, too?" Laughing, he soon had two platters of chicken handed his way.

Later as they all stood outside waving to the last of the installation people as they left — Dave and Evie's crews already gone — Jeff put his arm around Diana, and leaning down, whispered into her ear. "Well done, Boss Bitch," he teased.

Turning to him, she put her face up for a kiss. As they pulled apart, she said, "It wasn't just me. All of your wives worked just as hard as I did. We all knew those people would be stressed eating in that elegant dining room after having worked all day. We had tried to make sure they were relaxed, but I just felt like I had to say something. I still feel awkward with so much money. And I don't want anyone to think that I believe that I'm one bit better than they are, especially people that work so hard."

Jeff kissed her nose. "Oh, you're preaching to the choir. But I'm still proud of you, and all my women."

As they walked back inside and Jeff started to go looking for the men, Diana grabbed his arm. "Come on with Laura and me. We need a short conference about tonight."

As they turned into the kitchen, nervous, Jeff joked, "This place has tons of conference rooms," he exaggerated, "but we always seem to wind up in here."

Putting cups down and getting the pot without asking, Laura grinned at her husband. "You wouldn't be a little uptight about tonight, would you?"

"Hell, no," Jeff said, "I'm not a little uptight. I don't care how many times I do this; I'm about scared spitless every time."

Laura poured the coffee, and she and Diana sat down flanking Jeff. "Good, you're supposed to be," they said in unison.

Jeff hissed in a breath. "Now isn't the time for that, please. I'm serious. I'm really stressed about this."

"What's the matter?" Diana too sweetly asked, as she stirred in creamer and sweetener. "Never married a genius before?"

"Look, Baby. Please don't start laying mine fields for me this afternoon. I don't need to get in trouble with you..."

"What are you stressed about, then?" she asked, a smirk on her face. "Is it about impregnating Helen tonight?"

It was a good thing that Jeff hadn't picked up his coffee yet, for he jerked as if he had been slapped.

"Look, she's just had her period, right? That's what she said. She should be safe for a week or so. By that time, we can get her on the pill you guys take, that you don't have to wait long for them to take effect. Maybe she needs to call today to try and get a doctor's appointment for Monday."

Laura and Diana laughed, then Diana said, "Oh, she's already done that. But maybe you haven't thought about something that we have all been discussing. Normally what you said about her being safe for a week or so, should... be accurate. If... she has a normal fertility cycle, and has only one fertile period per month, and... her fertile period is in the middle of her cycle. Certainly not all women are. Remember the old joke about what you call a couple that rely on the rhythm method? Parents. Well, we just thought of a new little wrinkle to throw into the mix."

Diana and Laura looked at each other and grinned, then Laura took over. "If her cycle is textbook, then she would be safe from a normal male whose sperm will live up to five days beyond the cervix in her reproductive tract." Jeff groaned as Laura continued. "But is she safe from our Alpha Male? Will your sperm live for just five days inside Helen's womb? Or will it live much longer?"

"Look," Jeff said, "I know you mean well, but this Alpha Male crap..."

"Don't even start, Jeff," Diana snapped.

"Honey, the healer has enhanced some things about me, but that's about it..."

"Bull fucking shit, Jeff," Diana hissed. "The healer has doubtlessly helped, but you were different long before the healer came on the scene. You nailed my ass with one injection in that back seat."

Jeff sat stunned. He had heard Diana curse using those exact words exactly twice in their marriage — and she was really pissed then.

Diana shut up and took a sip of coffee, her hand shaking. Laura touched Jeff's hand. "We — all of your wives — are very concerned about this. We may have made a mistake about pushing for the marriage so soon. We were all so enthralled about Helen becoming one of us that we rushed into things without all the preparation we, maybe, should have taken. Arlene happened to think about the possible lifespan of your sperm a little while ago, and her comments got all our attentions — including Helen's."

Diana, calmer now, looked at her husband. "Your daughter is becoming more adamant about being the first to have your baby. And Helen, although she would love to have your child, certainly doesn't want to get pregnant on her wedding night. She is well aware that doing so would cause strife among your wives. This is something that we haven't worked out yet. Our multiple marriage has only been going on for a short time. Eventually, we'll come up with a solution, but since all of us have been on birth control, we've just not seriously addressed the issue, yet."

"I could just pull out..."

"We bought some condoms before you made love to Helen the other night — some that will probably even fit you — but since her period was ready to start, we didn't mention them. But condoms then, and condoms tonight are a different thing entirely. And no, you will not pull out and spoil her wedding night. Let alone our little traditional comedy act in the kitchen the next morning after we've been serviced by our Alpha Male on our wedding night. Namely a swollen pussy dripping our husband's semen. We would never take that away from Helen."

"Helen would never do that," he managed to get out before being cut off.

"Don't bet on it," Laura broken in, emphatically.

Diana, grinning a little, continued, "But if we can't decide something here, then we're going to have to call a family meeting, including Helen of course, which will break with our tradition of you not seeing your bride before tonight. And at that meeting, decide if we're going to put off the wedding until Helen is safe. The meeting was Helen's idea. She's feeling exasperated right now for not having thought about the possible extended life of your sperm, herself."

"The healer," Jeff said, almost to himself. "I wonder if she could do something? Heck, that isn't healing, though. I don't know if I can communicate something like that to her or not. She did say that she had been observing us in the bedroom as we had sex. Doubtless, since she is a healer, she understands all about our reproductive processes, but..."

"Go ask her," both women said in unison.

"Well, for something that involved, I'm going to have to be asleep, or nearly so. I can try."

"It's either that, or I'm pretty sure we're going to have to postpone the wedding until Helen can get on birth control. And I don't know whether the doctor she has the appointment with will prescribe the same pills you got that doctor to prescribe for us. If not, it could be two months before she's safe. But it's not right for her to be worrying about birth control on her wedding night.

"Your sperm is different. We all know it is. And it's not just that we love you. Ask any of your wives. A dose of your sperm and we belong to you. Being in close proximity to you and we belong to you. We won't deprive her of the feeling that your sperm gives us. Certainly not on her special night," Diana finished, adamantly.

Diana took a sip of coffee, then lit a cigarette while each of them remained silent, uncomfortable. Diana suddenly put the cigarette out in the ashtray, then looked back at her husband. "When is the last time you timed yourself with your fast draw rig?"

The non sequitur floored Jeff, and from her looks, Laura, as well. "Diana, what in the hell has that... ?"

"When?"

Seeing he wasn't going to get out of it, he thought for a moment. "A couple of years, I guess, probably a bit more."

"Not since the contest, right?"

"Well, after that, I guess I got involved in other things. I got immersed in my invention, and..."

"Oh, that was a good comeback. It's even logical, and true. But it's not the whole thing is it?"

"Diana, what has a fast draw contest got to do with what we've been discussing here this morning?"

Laura looked as lost as Jeff was, or was trying to be. Diana reached over and patted her hand. "You remember when Jeff, Arlene and I took that little vacation and went to the Cowboy Action competition. I told you that Jeff cleaned their plate until something suddenly broke in his gun." Turning back to Jeff, she said, "There were two different gunsmiths there that offered to fix your gun, but you wouldn't let them touch it."

Looking back at Laura, she continued, "Now that in itself isn't that unusual. Some of those shooters won't let just anyone touch their weapons. They have gunsmiths that they swear by, or some of them do all the work themselves. So I, an probably no one else, thought much about him refusing to let someone work on his .45 Colt single action that he had painstakingly customized.

"Thinking about it now, though, with all that's happened, and knowing the things I do now, I think you," she said, turning to her husband, "quit the match for another reason. Oh, when we got home you made a pretense of working on your revolver. Even mentioned what you had done, maybe stressed the work a little too much. But, you know, you weren't upset during the rest of our vacation. That's a bit odd, don't you think?

"Now let's see. You aced the first two days of the contests — every one of the different types that you entered. Then suddenly, on the second day, your .45 gave up the ghost just after the last speed match, and you told the officials that you weren't going to compete the next day, even though some of the other contests were with different weapons. You had half a dozen people offer you their guns. How often is that done? But we left, and although you griped a little, I now think it was all pretend.

"You just realized that you could easily beat everyone else there, didn't you my husband?" Turning to her sister-wife again, she said, "He, like all of us to a greater or lesser extent, I guess, is — what do they call it? — a study in contrasts. Yes, that's it. Our dear little — well, I guess he isn't little (both women laughed at that) Alpha Male is both arrogant and humble."

Jeff leaned back in his chair and slid down a little, resigned.

"He's humble," Diana continued taking another sip of her coffee, then absently playing with the pack of cigarettes, "when he refuses to acknowledge he is an Alpha Male; when he is gentle and loving, and lets us run all over him, making his decisions for him; oh, well, I could go on. But then he's arrogant just like with the contest, he was so absolutely sure that he could beat everyone there in every type of contest, that he didn't have to prove it. Plus he knew that come trophy day, he was going to need a wheelbarrow to carry them all out. That's arrogance personified. Or maybe just that he didn't want everyone to really notice him.

"I watched you practicing that last morning. What's the matter Jeff? Did you realize that you had beaten Murden's time? Was that it? You had just beaten the fastest time in the world? And I suspect that you didn't just beat it, but you trounced it. Is that what happened?"

Jeff just sat staring at his cup, refusing to answer her.

Turning back to Laura, she said, "The guy is the fastest draw on earth. And he's been doing it for years. Two hundredths of a second to draw and accurately fire a single action .45. Not two tenths of a second, but two hundredths." Turning back to Jeff, she quietly asked, "How fast are you now?"

"Diana, I..."

Diana broke in. "Misdirection is the same as lying. Don't even consider it. And don't insult your wives' intelligence."

"Hon, this is something I don't feel comfortable discussing. And I'm not going to lie to you. I haven't drawn that single action since then. But remember, there is the healer to consider..."

"Yeah, Jeff, I know. But the healer came on the scene after that, didn't it? The contest was long before I broke my ankle, and that's when you first brought the healer home. Am I right?"

"Yeah, Baby, but..." Exasperated, he pushed his coffee back from him — it was no longer hot, anyway. "So what if I am different. What if I could have beaten everybody at that contest? What would that have proven? A lot of those people had worked for years, spent a lot of hard-earned money for weapons and enhancements to their rigs only to have some... upstart come along and win everything. I hadn't earned my keep, like they had. It wasn't right."

Laura took her sister-wife's hand. "Where are you going with this, Diana?"

Diana squeezed Laura's hand back, her expression changing. "Where we're going is to the range. Go get your rig, Husband. And don't tell me you don't know where it is. All of us saw it when we were digging out the shooting gear the first day. We set the box aside."

"Diana, I'm not in the mood, and I haven't practiced since the match."

Diana got up and picked up the cups, pouring out what was left, then rinsing. She looked over at her husband as she set the cups on the counter. Smiling she said, "This isn't a witch hunt, Baby. Please, just bear with me. Go get your rig. Laura and I will be waiting right here."

Jeff stood, started to say something, but when Diana smiled at him again, he sighed and walked out of the kitchen.

A few minutes later, he came back with his fast draw rig and a box of .45 Long Colt ammunition. Diana and Laura were waiting for him. Laura motioned toward the table where his new Stetson was sitting, his new boots sitting on the floor nearby.

"Ah, come on..."

"Don't give us any shit, Jeff. We happen to like the way you look in that hat and those boots, and they go with the rig. Now you didn't have any problem wearing the full western rig at the match. So a pair of boots and a hat shouldn't stress you too much out here in the middle of nowhere. Where's the timer?"

"On my belt," Jeff sighed, showing them.

"Get your stuff on Jeff," Laura said. "I haven't seen you do this, and I'm anxious."

"Well, that makes one of us," Jeff grumped, but put on the boots and hat, picking up his gunbelt and ammo.

Diana cleared her throat.

"Okay, okay," Jeff grumbled, and put his rig on. "Look, I feel like Wyatt Earp in this outfit. It's one thing when everyone is wearing a rig on the range, but if Dave and Evie see me walking down the hall in this, they'll laugh their asses off."

"You're stalling, Jeff. Let's go," Diana said as she held the kitchen door open.

Laura pinched him on the ass as he walked by.

A few minutes later, Jeff, thankful that no one had been in the hallway as they came out, stopped in front of a plate rack on the range. He adjusted one of the plates so that it wouldn't fall when hit. Then they all stepped back seven yards.

Diana turned to Laura. Motioning to the timer on Jeff's belt, Diana said. "The timer can be set so that it will randomly beep between one and five seconds, signaling the shooter to start. When the shooter hears the beep, he draws and fires. The timer stops when the gun fires. That will show the time to draw, plus the shooter's reaction time. In other words, the time it takes him to realize that the timer has sounded and he starts to draw. But first, I want him to do what is called a self-start. In other words, he holds a button down on the timer, then when he decides to draw, he lets go of the button, draws and fires, taking away the reaction time. That's what he's going to do first, but both ways are done at events. The timer is far enough away on his belt that he can't hold down the button and touch his gun at the same time, giving and accurate 'no fudge' time"

Everyone put on their hearing and eye protection, and Diana nodded to Jeff.

The gun went off so fast that Laura jumped, and said, "Fuck. I thought he would wait for a few seconds before he did that."

Diana and Laura looked at the timer. "That's got to be wrong," Laura said.

The women backed up a pace. Then to Laura, she said, "The timer will keep each time in memory. Do it three more times, Jeff. We'll do an average in case that was a fluke."

Jeff drew and fired, reholstered, drew and fired, three more times, hitting the plate each time in the same exact spot.

Diana commented to Laura, "Most of the contests either use wax bullets or a blank black power round. The black powder round has no bullet; it just ejects unburned granules of the black powder to burst a balloon. Jeff is firing full-bore .45 Long Colt rounds and hitting the center of a plate twenty-one feet away. At least an order of magnitude harder than the contests. Let's check his time, now."

Diana reached over and took the timer off his belt, showing each time to Laura. After a moment, Diana saw a folding chair that someone had left on the range. She walked over and brought it back, absently sitting down. Looking at her husband, almost accusing him, she said, "I thought you would do it slow a few times before you tried your best speed."

Jeff sighed, and looked at his wives. "That was slow."

"Oh, shit, Diana said, her hand beginning to shake. "Oh, shit!"

After a moment, Diana got up and pulled a white target center off the roll. She walked over to the plate and stuck the white, one inch circle to the center of the plate. Returning, she said, "Okay, fire six, please."

Jeff, resigned, loaded six rounds and stood waiting. "Self-start," Diana said as she reattached the timer to her husband's belt.

Jeff waited until Diana and Laura were well behind him before he drew and fired... once... it almost seemed, but Diana knew differently as the white center flew apart, his left hand seeming to blur as it fanned the hammer, alternating cocking the hammer with his thumb and little finger in an odd motion, the Colt just above its holster, the gun leveled at the target. Both women had watched him load six rounds into the Colt, and watched him eject, one at a time, six empties from the weapon.

Jeff checked the elapsed time, as Diana and Laura stared at the readout. As they pulled their ear protection off, Diana asked, "Did you push?"

Jeff sighed. "No, I took my time and concentrated on hitting the white spot that you put up."

"Well, maybe you weren't arrogant after all when you wouldn't finish the contest," she tried to say sarcastically, but it didn't come off.

Jeff suddenly swept Diana into his arms, then Laura with her. He hugged them tight, a shiver running through his body that both women felt. "I'm... I don't know," he said into their hair as he pressed them to him, and they hugged him tight. I... just... don't... know... what... I..." am, he quietly said, saying the last word only mentally. "But I know where I want to be, and I'm right there," he finished, hugging them still tighter.

Feeling their love, he looked down at them and thought, "What is an Alpha Male? And why me?



-------

Chapter 23

As they walked down the hall, Jeff still wearing his rig, Evie rounded the corner. Stopping as they approached, she put her hands on her hips, "Well, hi there cowboy," she brightly said, smiling from ear to ear.

Jeff glared at her and turned toward their suite.

"Oops," Evie said as she half giggled, then stifled it with her hand. Turning to Laura and Diana, she said, "I guess I said the wrong thing, huh?"

"Yeah," Diana sarcastically said, "He's just trounced a couple of world records with a single action revolver, and he's pissed."

"Oh," Evie said with a grin. "I guess that would piss anybody off," she laughed, stretching out the word.

"Jeff just came face to face with his Alpha Male self, and they're not getting along too well right now," Laura added, a grin starting on her face from just being around Evie's good mood.

"Well, that certainly clears everything up, nicely," Evie laughed. "Uh, other than that, how are the wedding preparations going? I'm free to help now."

"Come on," Diana broke in, "Lets go sit down. I'm still tired from the flight back. I was going to take a nap, but I haven't made it yet, and it doesn't look like there's time now."

They, seemingly, automatically turned into the kitchen, where they discovered that someone had just put on two fresh pots of coffee. They got cups and waited a moment for the maker to finish. When it did, Evie grabbed a carafe and poured for all of them. They sat at the table as Diana reached for the phone.

"I've got to make sure that the caterer is still..."

"Whoa, girl," Evie said, motioning for Diana to wait a minute. "You don't have to do a thing. Margaret took over one of the offices near their suite. She took your plans and numbers, and has everything going just like you started. I talked to her a few minutes ago, and she just got off the phone with the caterers and the flower people that you lined up. The flowers will be here by five, and she even made sure that they sent the same people as last time so they wouldn't have any trouble finding us. The woman is a house afire. She even has Frank stepping and fetching," she grinned.

"Since you're using the same caterers that Mr. Wainwright recommended, she knows them, and they know her. She told me to tell you she wasn't trying to take over or change any of the plans that you made, she was just going to make sure things came together so you could rest, if you needed to."

Laura and Diana looked at each other and laughed. Turning back to Evie, Diana said, "I got on the phone and confirmed with the caterers and the flower people as soon as we got home this morning. They're probably getting tired of people calling by now," she laughed, "but they surely can't say they weren't reminded."

Margaret walked in, got a cup of coffee and sat with them. Fixing her coffee while everyone chatted, she said, looking at Diana and Laura. "Please don't be mad at me, but I just talked to the services. I know you already did earlier today, but since we recommended them, I was a little worried that they would..."

Diana put her hand on Margaret's. "Chill out. I'm not mad. Evie already told us. I appreciate it. The stress of the last thirty-six hours, plus two nights of sleep on an airplane have about worn us out. My husband is stretched tight as a drum, and this is his wedding night..."

Margaret smiled a little as she interrupted, "Somehow, that sounds odd, even though I know what you mean. I guess I still can't believe that you condone your husband marrying other women. I would cut Frank's balls off if he suggested bringing another woman to our bed, and we're not even married."

Diana looked amused for a second. "A couple of months ago, I would have felt the same way. We're going to have to have a long girl talk, soon. Believe it or not, I'm not pimping my husband." As Margaret started to object, Diana touched her hand. "I know. I know. I didn't mean it like that. I guess it's been my day to start my mouth running, then disengage my brain.

"In addition to stressing my husband about a possible pregnancy tonight, I just had to stress him over something else," she sarcastically said. "But damnit, he just keeps on insisting that he's just your average Joe, and it's time he woke up to the fact that he really is an Alpha Male."

At Margaret's blank look, Laura broke in. "The short of it is that Helen isn't on birth control. She has an appointment with a doctor, but that's of no practical use to her right now. She's just finished her period, so tonight should be all right; however, Arlene brought up another concern. How long does an Alpha Male's sperm live?"

Margaret put it together. "Oh," she said, then "Oh... You've got a problem. But can't you use... ?"

Diana put her cup down. "That isn't an option, and neither is the next thing you're going to suggest. We'll tell you why tomorrow, but it's a private thing right now. After tomorrow morning, provided there is a wedding tonight, we'll give you the details why we don't want to use either of those two methods, or anything else, as far as that is concerned."

"And if there is a pregnancy... ?"

"There is going to be a problem," Laura answered. "We haven't ironed out who is going to be first to have Jeff's child, but it is going to be planned. We don't want it to be an accident. We all want to be there and know that our husband is impregnating our sister-wife at that moment. We want to be as close to her as we possibly can be, both physically and mentally, for that very, very special time.

"We all get along really well; our Alpha Male would not have it any other way. We don't want to let him down, but... we haven't decided this, yet. We have decided — all of us — that it's too soon to start dropping babies. Plus we want the threat to be behind us before we complicate our lives any more than they already are."

"So, are they not going to consummate their marriage tonight?"

"We don't know," Diana and Laura said in unison, then after eye contact to see who would talk, Diana continued, "Jeff is going to try to communicate with the healer that we want her to keep Helen from getting pregnant tonight. I need to go talk with her and see if she has any more thoughts on the subject. She was berating herself earlier for not having thought of this thing about Jeff's sperm, herself. I guess it's embarrassing for a genius to have a sixteen-year-old girl think of something like this first," she finished with a chuckle.

Margaret leaned back in the chair, a musing tone in her voice, "Well, I guess there isn't exactly a book on Alpha Males where you can look up things like this."

Standing, Diana said, "No, but I wish there were. I'm going to talk to Helen. I don't know how long Jeff will be. He told us he would have to be nearly asleep to converse with the healer in detail. They have learned to communicate on some things with her just on his shoulder, but more involved or detailed things require him to do something else. Exactly what, I don't really know. Although he said that he has carried her running with him, and after a few miles, he can 'hear' her thoughts better than he can at other times, except when he's nearly asleep."

Margaret stood as well. "When are you going to start decorating? We're all ready to help."

Diana paused on the way out the door. "We've got everything ready. Let's just wait for the flowers to arrive, and the delivery people can just put them in the living room, and the few others in the small dining room. We'll get the men to move the furniture away from the window. All the other stuff is in the closet nearest the living room. It won't take long. We're modest with the decorating."

As she turned and started out the door, she noticed the pilots turning into the living room. Margaret having obviously noticed them as well, said to Laura and Diana, "You guys go on and be with Helen. Those two look like they have been ridden hard and put up wet. I'll get some coffee and food into them. Frank and I will take care of the visitors; just do whatever you have to do for your wedding. We'll have dinner for everyone else in one of the conference rooms."

Evie broke in with, "Why not just feed everyone in our apartment, then we'll all be out of the Matthew's hair. Is that all right with you Diana?"

Diana laughed. "Have at it girl. That way we won't be bumping into each other in the kitchen when the caterers come. We would really appreciate it," she finished, looking at Laura, who nodded her approval.

Relief on her face, Diana said, "Thanks you two. Oh, and please tell everybody, in case I've screwed up and forgotten to tell some of them, that we will have a private meal for Jeff and Helen at seven, served by all the wives in the small dining room. Then we will all walk together to the living room at eight where we will say our vows in front of everyone.

"Also, in the morning at eight, everyone can watch Jeff bring her from the honeymoon suite to the kitchen in his arms. But we have a short... uh, ceremony in the kitchen, that is private. After that, Jeff will carry her to the hot tub. All the women are then welcome to be with us there. The men are welcome to visit with Jeff in the kitchen and eat breakfast with him while we're in the hot tub, if they like. Trust me, he will be hungry, and we will leave one of the wives there to cook for them," she finished.

Diana and Laura took off down the hall, but just before they reached the corner, Jeff rounded the corner behind everyone. Diana and Laura stopped as if they had dropped anchor. Spinning around, they looked back past Evie and Margaret at Jeff, who had the healer sitting on his shoulder. Jeff raised his right hand, thumb and index finger together to form the high sign as he grinned at them. "Everything is fine," he said in a voice that should not have carried that far, but obviously Diana and Laura understood him.

"YES!" they yelled, then took off toward the honeymoon suite trying to run, laugh and hold each other at the same time.

Margaret and Evie looked at each other. "I guess we're goin' to have a weddin'," Margaret said in her best fake Texas drawl.

"I'm going to take a nap," Jeff announced to no one in particular, as he turned back toward the suite.

Margaret looked at Evie, both of them grinning from ear to ear. "Let's get some coffee and a snack into those pilots, and find out where the girls put Fred to bed for his nap."

"Okay, then we can fix a bunch of burgers, and a few side dishes, put it all on the table, let everyone help themselves, and eat in my living room while we watch TV, or something. I'll call the honeymoon suite and tell them to let us know when they're ready to decorate."

"Sounds like a plan," Margaret answered turning back into the kitchen for the coffee and snacks.

-------

Jeff awakened as Diana sucked hard on his dick. When she realized that he was awake and looking at her, she pulled her mouth back and licked the head with slow, gentle swipes of her tongue. Eventually, she winked at him and slid up to kiss him, then did her usual to get the pressure relieved in her breasts. When the orgasms were over, Diana, still lying on his chest, said, "Time to get ready to marry your resident genius."

He gently kissed her, then looking into her eyes, said, "Helen might score a little higher on an IQ test than you, My Lovely, but none of us are fooled about who is the smart one in this house. Scores on tests, and wisdom, aren't necessarily the same thing."

"Oh, sure," she sarcastically said, "I showed just how much 'wisdom' I had when I couldn't even derail Jack..."

"Hush, Beautiful," Jeff said, "Jack simply, or not so simply, was lucky enough to exploit a weakness, and in doing so," he said, gently tweaking her left nipple, "he wound up showing us what you needed." He kissed her again, running his tongue along her lips as he gently pulled and manipulated her nipple with his fingers. As he knew she would, her eyes lost focus, her breathing changed, she shivered, and came, hard.

A few moments later as they helped each other to their feet, Jeff said, "What, no shake tonight?"

Diana followed him as he walked into the shower area. "We thought about it, but since you haven't had any type of sex for the last two nights, we were a little afraid to get you even more stirred up with one of those shakes. I suspect that poor Helen is going to be walking stiff-legged for several days as it is."

Jeff stopped and looked at Diana. "You know that I'm not going to hurt her. That remark almost hurts my feelings. I had to be very gentle with the girls, but..."

"... But you're putty in their hands. Look what you let Arlene talk you into. I thought we were surely going to have to use the healer on her, and probably should have. And if you think for one minute that our resident genius is going to lie there and fake death on her wedding night, you're wrong. Since she's around those girls all the time, I'm afraid that she's going to push you on her wedding night just like they did. And Helen is probably smaller inside than any of us. At least that's the impression I got when you made love to her in her apartment."

Jeff, becoming exasperated, said, "Hey, you were the one that was trying to get your pussy swollen even beyond Arlene's..."

"I know. I know, Jeff. But we expounded on our sore pussy routine to her, and she's becoming so close to the girls, and with her intelligence, there is no telling what she has planned for you. Oh, I don't know. I just want everything to be..."

Jeff grabbed her and kissed her — hard. "Hush, my wife," he quietly said, kissing her eyes. "I'm just as uptight as you, but probably for other reasons. It isn't reasonable for Helen to fall so in love with me and want to become wife number seven — especially, in just a few weeks.

"With what just happened on that range, and the other things, well, I just don't know. I feel the same. Well, maybe I have felt a little different in the last couple of years, and there's no use denying that I've grown a couple of inches in height. I lift more than I ever have, and realizing that I'm faster than those other people that have practiced for years... I don't know why this is happening to me. It... bothers me.

"I guess the old adage about not looking a gift horse in the mouth applies. I should just go with it and not worry about anything else, but..."

Diana tightly hugged him, then looked up into his face. "You were always this way Jeff. You just refused to compete, except in the competition shooting with the cops. Even then, you only shot good enough for your team to win. I think you always knew that you were different. But this is a discussion for another time.

"Now, back to tonight. Just be careful with her. Although she's deeply in love with you, she was deeply in love with Martha and John. This wedding can't help but bring memories back. She has to have a near photographic memory with her intelligence. Those deaths may not be as remote for her with that memory as they would be for some people.

"I'm just worried about her. My beautiful Alpha Male, his pheromones and whatever else he uses to call his females to him have overwhelmed her. Don't forget about what happened in the living room when you were hurt. We couldn't leave you, not to say anything about when the bear attacked you. So just be extra careful with her, please."

Diana kissed him, stroked his rigid cock a couple of times, knelt to kiss the head for a moment, then standing, she said, "I love you my darling. Make me proud, Husband." Turning, shoulders back, she walked regally toward the door.

"I love you two," he said to her retreating back.

She grinned over her shoulder and winked at him. Then was gone.

Jeff turned the shower on and tried to concentrate on mundane things, hoping his dick would go down enough for him to pee.

A little later, his shower and shave finished, he walked into the bedroom expecting to find Arlene waiting for him. His clothes were laid out on the bed as he expected, but instead of one person there, there were four. Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa "helped" him dress with the result that his dick was now hard as a rock again.

When they were done with their teasing, the three filed out leaving him alone with Arlene. He tied his tie and turned for her inspection. She grinned at him and stepped close. After inspecting to see that none of them had left any lipstick, she slid his hand inside the front of the dress to cup her braless breast. "Make her walk funny, Dad," she whispered, then leaned up to gently touch her lips to his. Taking his arm, smiling, her chest out, she walked with him out of the suite into the hallway.

As they made the last turn, he stopped and looked at his bride standing, alone, at the other end of the hall. She, as they all had done, was carrying a small bouquet of flowers. Even from here, he could see the smile on her face. Arlene nudged him. As they got closer, he critically looked at Helen's face and thought, Maybe it is because the healer was used so much on her, but I've noticed, almost daily, that she looks younger. At most, I would guess her to be thirty-five. And she's even more beautiful than when we saw her the first time in that restaurant. Why would a genius want to marry me?

As they stopped, Arlene squeezed his arm, and he took the last two steps alone. "Would you accompany me to dinner, My Lady?"

"Certainly," Helen said, taking his arm, then added with an almost teasing tone to her voice, "My Alpha Male."

Melissa served the wine this time. As she left, Helen took a sip, put the glass down and asked, "Jeff, where did you get this wine?"

"Uh, we don't know a lot about wine. Well, actually, I know nothing. I've looked in the wine cellar once since we've been here, just exploring. There are hundreds of bottles in there, and many different kinds. I assume Diana, or Laura, chose. Is it okay?"

Helen had an odd look on her face. "John, Martha and I drank a little wine when we could afford a really nice restaurant, usually about once a month. We read about, and to some small extent explored a few wines, but we could never afford something like this," she said, taking another sip.

Jeff took another sip as well, and looked at his newest wife-to-be. "I like the taste, but, as I said, I have absolutely no knowledge of wines. Are you saying this is expensive?"

Helen laughed. "Jeff, if a real wine connoisseur could hear us, they would probably have a stroke. If I remember correctly," she said, turning the bottle to read the label again, "this sells for more than eight hundred dollars a bottle, probably nearer a thousand. I can't believe Mr. Wainwright would leave his stocked wine cellar when he sold you this place. Didn't he even mention it?"

"Nope," Jeff said. "Things got to moving pretty fast there at the end, and they just added the conference center to their price at the last moment. I suspect he forgot all about the wine, and probably when he did remember later, he just wouldn't mention it. I'll be sure to tell him to take his wine with him. Heck, it makes me feel bad just to think about wasting it on the rest of us. We'll ask him, and I'm sure he'll let us keep some for you, of course, then have him take the rest."

They chatted, were served many courses, each serving small and elegantly presented, and not just by the beautiful servers.

All of the women partook in part of the serving, each wearing their black dresses with the plunging neckline, the style not far off from Helen's wedding dress. When the meal was finally over, and the pictures were taken, Diana leaned over and whispered into her husband's ear. "All your other wives have changed, and I will only need a moment. Give us five minutes then bring Helen into the hallway. We'll be waiting for you."

Obeying, like a good little husband, he waited precisely five minutes, then took Helen's arm and walked into the hallway with her. All his wives were waiting, now dressed in their wedding dresses, all identical.

Evie and Dave were also in the hallway, each with a camera. Numerous flashes later, they left for the living room.

As Evie softly played the piano, all except Helen entered the living room. Jeff walked alone with each of his six wives following in pairs — each of the wives carrying a small bouquet. The furniture had been cleared from the long glass wall and moved to the side, but the room was so large that nothing was crowded. Flowers tastefully graced the sides of their path, as well as the area where they were to stand. Everyone stood as they entered, and Jeff distinctly heard a sigh from the audience. He knew that the sigh was for the six beautiful women in their elegant wedding dresses. He noticed the video cameras on tripods, plus Dave had a handheld camera, as well.

He reached the glass wall, turned and faced his wives who had formed a broken half-circle facing him, the space in the middle left vacant. As the music transcended into the wedding march, the audience turned to the doorway, the six wives turning as one to watch, as well.

Helen, carrying a small bouquet of red roses, gracefully walked through the doorway and down the isle, which was covered in rose pedals. A smile graced her elegant face, and with sure steps she neared the vacant place in the half circle. Just as she made her last step, the women all turned again as one, the half circle, complete, the wedding march ending just as Helen assumed her place — all the women now facing Jeff.

As the audience seated themselves, Diana, from the right end of the half-circle, stepped up with Jeff and turned to the audience as the sun's last rays cast the fall colors in intense hues behind the original couple.

"I have been chosen to welcome you to our wedding. Tonight, we add Helen, our trusted mentor, to our marriage. Until now, each marriage has been private, but our respect and love for you has prompted us to ask you, our friends and family, here tonight to share in our joy as Helen becomes one of us.

"Although a large percentage of marriages — conventional marriages, do not last — this one will. It will last because of our love and respect for each other, and because of the bonds to our Alpha Male. Those bonds are not one way, not just us tied to him, for he is bound just as strongly to us. And in addition, those bonds are just as strong between each of us to all the others. This is not conjecture, or something wished for, but fact. We have only just begun to explore some of the aspects of the bonding.

"Although we, his present wives, have said our vows to our husband, we will reinitiate them tonight, for the vows are not just to him, but to each other as well — and tonight they will include Helen. We will not have a long ceremony, but that will not lessen the commitment. Helen will receive our ring from Jeff, and she will push ours a little farther onto his finger.

"As soon as the wedding ceremony is over, we will move to the conference room next door that Evie has set up as her photo studio. After the pictures are taken, Jeff will take his bride to the wedding suite. To remind you, tomorrow morning at eight, Jeff will walk with his bride in his arms to the kitchen where we will have a private, short ceremony. After Jeff has carried his bride to the hot tub — there were amused chuckles from the small audience — the women are welcome to join us there. The men are invited to eat breakfast with the groom."

Diana turned to her husband and gently kissed him. Turning back to the wives, she asked, "Who gives this woman away to this man?"

In perfect synchronization, including Diana, the wives all said, "We all do."

As Diana stepped back to her place, Laura took Helen's hand and stepped the two paces forward to bring them to Jeff, placing Helen's hand in Jeff's. Laura returned to her place, then the women all moved, the half circle changing into a full circle with Jeff a part of it, and Helen standing before him, the wives all now surrounding her.

Jeff brought Helen's hand up and touched his lips to her fingers, then said, "My Love, our first meeting seemed to be destiny. We were thrilled with the elegant lady we saw in the restaurant that night. The vote to ask you to become our teacher only took seconds, and was, of course, unanimous. That night, you survived my daughter's teasing, and our infamous driveway."

There was a chuckle from the audience and a grin from Helen as Jeff continued, "Within days, we averted a tragedy with all of us working together. By the time it was over, we were already beginning to feel that our beautiful teacher had woven herself, inextricably into our lives. I felt your love for us, and it was obvious that my wives felt that love as well. That love grew as, daily, our respect for you increased.

"Undeniable bonds had formed that we all could feel. When I was attacked, the evidence of those bonds was manifest in you, the same way that it was with my wives. Tonight, before our trusted friends, we formalize those bonds forever.

"I, Jeff Matthews, promise before God, my wives, my family, and my closest friends, to take you as my wife, to love, and cherish you all the days of my life, to honor you as my wife and mate for as long as I shall live. And to each of my present wives, I promise before God, my wives, my family, and my closest friends, to continue to love, and cherish you all the days of my life, to continue to honor you as my wife and mate for as long as I shall live. "

Helen kissed Jeff's hand, still holding it as she said, "I came, unwilling, to our first meeting. I had lost my husband and lover, and had little use for life any longer. Within a short time, you my beloved, and my beloved, soon-to-be sister-wives, not only saved my life, but also gave me full reason to live, and to again enjoy life.

"I. Helen Boswell, take you to be my beloved husband. And to you, Diana, Arlene, Laura, Ann, Jennie and Melissa, I take you as my beloved sister-wives. To each, and to all I promise to welcome you with my body, to adore you with my mind and to cherish you with my heart. I promise to be faithful and to keep myself only unto you for as long as we each shall live. If you, Jeff, should choose to add to our marriage, then these vows will be expanded to include those as well.

"Before the sight of the Almighty, the giver of all love, and my sister-wives, I solemnly declare my love and adoration of you, Jeff. I declare my marital vows freely from a heart overflowing with love and desire for you and my sister-waves. To you and my sister-wives, I am yours forever."

And in unison, uncanny, so perfectly in sync that they sounded as one clear, precise voice: "We now take you, Helen, as our sister-wife, to love and cherish, to give and receive freely of our bodies and our love, to share equally with you the joys of our husband in our marriage as in everything else. To love and cherish you forever. And to our husband, we reaffirm our vows and lasting love, giving freely our bodies and our hearts to you forever."

Jeff, with his thumb, had maneuvered his wedding ring over his knuckle. As he pushed Helen's ring onto her finger, she pushed his wedding ring back into place.

In a clear voice, full of emotion, Diana said, "Jeff, our darling, would you kiss your new wife, Helen."

Although Helen had thought of this moment for days, sometimes suspecting that she thought of little else, the truth and gravity of the moment descended on her with force. Barely able to raise her mouth to her new husband, the room swirled around her. She could feel him tighten his hold on her. She trembled as her emotions flowed over. She brought her hand behind his neck to pull herself to him. She felt complete. At last, I am home,  she thought as she opened her eyes to see sparkling brown eyes staring down at hers.

"Hello, Wife," he said, his lips only inches from hers.

"Hello, Husband, " she choked out past the lump of joy in her throat. They kissed again, this one lasting until they had to break for breath past stopped up noses and the tears that neither had even noticed.

All the wives descended on Helen for prolonged, loving kisses, and then with their husband. Almost before Helen realized what was happening, Jeff swept her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, and stood silent.

Diana placed her hand on her husband's shoulder as the other wives formed up beside them. "May I present to you our new wife, Helen with our husband, Jeff."

Evie hit the recessional with flair, and Jeff, carrying his new wife, walked quickly down the isle and out into the corridor flanked by the rest of his wives in pairs just as they had entered.

As Evie finished the music, and everyone rushed out to congratulate the bride and groom before Evie started the pictures, Frank and Margaret remained and stood to the side. Turning to her, he said, "Damn, I wonder how many times they practiced that? I've never seen a wedding without some sort of bobble. And the women were so precisely together that it was almost scary... When they moved into the circle to leave Helen standing in front of Jeff, it was like they had done it a million times."

"I hear them talking their way through it. And knowing this group, I'll bet that's all the practicing they did," Margaret said. "They know where Jeff is all the time, and I think they know, more or less, what he's doing. I'm beginning to think that they can feel each other as well."

Wainwright took Margaret's hands in his. "When are you going to marry me? You know I love you..."

Margaret sighed and hesitated. "We've covered this many times before. You know that I lived with two guys before I married them. Each time, everything was fine until I married. Shortly everything went down hill — both times. I'm not going to risk losing you the same way. You know that I love you. But I will admit that watching these people marry each other has put a lump in my throat, and does give me ideas. But what we have is too good to risk. Well, at least in the conventional way, but there is love in this... house that you can just feel."

Uncharacteristic of Frank, shocking her until she didn't know how to answer, he quietly said, "I would like to put our baby into your womb."

Stunned she grabbed his upper arms, hanging on to steady herself. "I'm too old to start having babies now. You've got a giant company to run, and I'm your second in command. I haven't got time for kids. And I'm too old," she repeated.

"Yeah, with the healer you're forty-two, going on thirty. 'Too old, ' won't fly. Be my wife. Take my son into your womb."

Collapsing against him, she hugged herself tightly to him. Quietly into his chest, she said, "I can't think. I love you. But I can't risk losing you. I'm afraid that if I marry you, I'll lose you like I did the others. This place — these people. I can't think right now."

"Good," he grinned down at her. "Let's throw your pills away, and see if I can push my son in there tonight."

She stood with her mouth open looking up into his face. Since her mouth was open anyway, he took advantage of the opportunity and kissed her deeply.

Evie had a printed list of the poses she wanted to take — a long list. Arlene checked off each pose, and Laura and Ann took charge of getting everyone into position. Dave adjusted lighting as Evie directed him. In a time that only the synchronization of the women could accomplish, with multiple poses, Evie took several hundred pictures with everyone present included at some point.

With a toast to the new bride and groom with a small glass from another bottle of Wainwright's precious wine, Jeff picked up his new bride. Shiny eyes around him attested to the men being moved as well as the women. He doubted that was sweat trickling down Dave's cheeks, either. To lighten the tone of things a little, he spun them around, causing Helen to tightly hug his neck and laugh.

One more quick kiss from his other wives as they all whispered their love for one another, and he walked down the hall, still holding Helen in his arms. When they reached the honeymoon suite, he spun them around once more, and kissed her hard. "Get a room," his wives yelled in unison, as laughter rang in the hallway.

One last look at Diana, and he turned, pushed the already partially opened door the rest of the way with his foot, carried his new bride across the threshold, and kicked the door closed. A moment later, sitting Helen on the couch as he had the others, he touched his lips to hers.

Without asking, he took the wine bottle out of the ice, noting it was the same bottle from their dinner, still over half full, and poured each of them a half glass. They linked arms and drank a toast to their lives together. Sitting beside her, he took her glass and set it next to his on the coffee table.

As he started to speak, Helen said, "Jeff, I need to talk to you. Diana and Laura said that you had told them everything would be fine for us to make love tonight, but I don't want to be the reason for conflict with your... our other wives. We can just sleep together, and well ... there are other ways to..."

Jeff stifled her protests with a kiss that grew more intense by the moment. Eventually taking his mouth from hers, he sighed, and said, "The healer is smarter than I have given her credit for. We had already ... discussed ... for the lack of a better term, that each of my wives was on birth control. This afternoon when I went into, well, I guess it is a little like a trance state, or maybe self hypnosis, that she helps me achieve in order to better understand her, she said that some of my mates would already be pregnant if she had not intervened. If I understand her correctly, the new medication that Diana and Arlene are on is effective, since it stops the egg from maturing, being ejected and entering the fallopian tubes, and it also keeps a fertilized egg from attaching to the uterine walls. The effect takes place in hours after taking the first pill.

"But the others would have become pregnant due to something about my body and sperm, and maybe something else that I could not fully understand what she was trying to tell me. At any rate, she has ... adjusted all their bodies as well as yours, to stop the process of producing any more matured eggs until we wish them to be. Actually, everyone can stop with birth control until we decide that we want that person to become fertile. Then the healer will reactivate the fertility process."

"And you trust her about this? I mean..."

Jeff chuckled. "She isn't like us. I don't think she is capable of lying. Not with the way she communicates; it just isn't possible. I really don't have the words to describe it. There just aren't words in our language to describe the ... process we use to 'talk' to each other. If she says you won't become pregnant, then it is so. Period."

"So, I'm going to have a sore..."

"Doctor Boswell," Jeff laughed, "I like to hear a beautiful woman say the word 'pussy.' And yes, I know, obviously, that you're an intellectual, and since you have been an educator for years, I guess you have tried to avoid slipping and saying words and terms that would get you in trouble in a school system. But my beautiful new wife, I enjoy hearing some of those words said by my wives.

"Diana chastised the girls for saying some of them, until she and I had a talk. And, indeed, they're still girls, but they are also young women, and my wives. I'm not talking about gutter mouth, (I don't like that) but I think there would have to be something wrong with a guy who didn't like to hear his beautiful wife whisper to him something like, 'my pussy is full of your sperm, ' or 'fuck me, Husband.' And hearing my new wife, with all her doctorates, masters and other degrees saying something like that, is a real turn-on for me."

"Then, my pussy," she said, firmly, smiling at him, "will be full of your sperm when we enter the kitchen in the morning."

"Helen, the girls started that, and got their 'badge of honor' thing going. Heck, I think they're calling it their 'pussy badge' now. I know that isn't for you..."

Helen put her finger to his lips, then snuggled to him, putting one arm behind his back and pushing her breasts against his side, wrapping her other arm around him, then put her head on his shoulder. "For a man that has, now, seven wives, every now and then I'm amazed at how little you, sometimes, seem to know about women. Do not place too much emphasis on the intellectual, in my reactions to you, my Husband. (I have wanted to use that word to describe my relationship with you since I woke up from my heart attack.) I was very sore after you made love to me in my apartment. And I know how gentle you were with me. Even if you do not... fuck my brains out as the girls are wont to say, I'll be in need of their uh ... cream in the morning, and the hot tub."

Jeff drew back and stared at her. "What kind of cream, my Wife?"

"Pussy cream," she laughed, hugging him, and burying her face in his chest. "Pussy cream," she said again, then giggling, "I can't believe I am acting like this. Oh, it has been so long since I was happy. Not since..."

Jeff took her chin in his hand and lightly touched his lips to hers. "You were married to Martha and John. Always feel completely at ease to talk of them, anytime. They were part of your life. You loved John as your husband, and Martha as your sister-wife."

"I still love him, Jeff. I know he is dead, but I still love him — both of them."

"And that's as it should be," Jeff said, now touching his lips to her eyelids, as her eyes misted with tears. "Although, I never knew him, I strongly suspect that John would be pleased that you have found a family that loves you, and that you can love. No person who truly loves another would want that person to just pine away the years until death, grieving over them and never going on with their lives. I certainly would not want that to happen to my wives."

"Thanks Jeff," she said, hugging him tight, then pulling back, "Now back to what we were discussing a little while ago, "I have watched the girls, literally pounding themselves down on you. I am afraid that I will never be able to do that. My... pussy is small, and shallow — as you know. I have known this for a long time. The few lovers that I have had were small compared to you, yet some of them had difficulty in pushing all of themselves into me. I am afraid that I won't be able to give you satisfaction since I can not..."

Jeff kissed her to cut off her verbal misgivings. When she sputtered and tried to continue, he kissed the tip of her nose and said, "I was afraid I had hurt you, and I know you were sore the next day, but I don't have to get all of myself into you for it to feel wonderful. There are plenty of things in this world to worry about, without worrying about that."

"But..."

"Helen, if it will make you feel any better, every one of my wives sat on this couch and worried. And I'm no exception, either. We're starting a marriage, and we want to be perfect for the other person, but believe me, worrying about that beautiful little pussy of yours is needless. I am, indeed, going to make love to you tonight, and I'm going to do my best to fuck your brains out, but as the girls would say, 'chill out, Teach.'"

Jeff kissed her, and while doing so, ran a finger under the plunging neckline of the dress, pushing the material aside to expose the plump breast with its perfect nipple already at attention. He gently circled her breast with his fingertip, gradually drawing nearer to her nipple. Before he got there, her breathing had become labored, and her nails dug into his bicep as she squeezed his arm. Just before he touched her nipple, he broke the kiss and dropped his mouth to the expanded nipple, instantly sucking hard.

Helen gasped, looked startled, shivered and came. Her back arched as she spasmed, then shuddered as aftershocks ran through her body, his sucking already changed to a gentle kiss on her nipple.

"How do you do that?" she finally whispered. "Before you, I've had a couple of tiny orgasms while running a vibrator over my nipples — and it took a long time. Never with a man. All your wives say they can, and do, easily have tremendous orgasms from you nursing or even playing with their nipples with your hands. I know that some women can have orgasms from having their nipples manipulated, but every one of your wives can — including me, now," she finished, a tone of wonder in her voice.

"Diana and Arlene can have orgasms when I kiss them for a long time, particularly if I just gently lick their lips as I kiss them. I love them Helen, just as I love you now. Other than that, I don't know. I've talked to guys that griped about women they have dated, or their wives, who have only one orgasm, and that after fifteen or twenty minutes of hard fucking. I know I love to make love to my women, and I love for them to have orgasms. Other than that, I don't know."

As his fingers gently tugged on her nipple, feeling herself starting again, she hesitantly pushed his hand away. "Please wait. I want that, but I want to say something first, and I can't even think while you are doing that, let alone, talk."

Jeff kissed her lips for a second, then just waited.

Taking a breath, she said, "It has to be something similar to what happened in the living room when you were hurt. I will never believe anything except you called your women to you. I don't know where that came from. If you believe in evolution, then maybe it was some type of survival reflex to call the women to protect and nurse back to health their mate. Maybe, over the years, that was not as necessary as it once was for survival. I don't know, but I do think that you have a control over us that you don't even realize. You just said that you love for your women to have orgasms. And my Husband, that orgasm with you sucking my nipple was stronger than any I have ever had with a man before you — even John.

"I think we are going to have an interesting marriage. I only fear, after watching you and your other wives make love, is that I'm not physically capable of keeping up with the rest. I watched Arlene have one orgasm right after another the other night, then pass out as you finished inside her. When you lay her on the bed, she had the silliest little grin on her face. Do you know that several of your wives had orgasms at the same time you did in Arlene? They were all either touching themselves, or each other, but almost all of them orgasmed just as you did."

"And, you're saying..."

"That Laura has it right. You are a projecting telepath, at least to some extent. Especially where high emotions are concerned. Remember, you woke up Diana and Arlene when the bear attacked you. Well, I guess to a greater of lesser degree, you awakened all of us. What other explanation fits? My hypothesis may not explain everything, but until a better one comes to mind, I am going to retain it."

Jeff kissed her, laughing. "Doc, whatever you've been smokin' must have been some good stuff. Diana, Laura, heck, most of them seem to know what the other is thinking half the time. What about all this chorus crap that I get. If there are any telepaths here, it's them, not me. I never know," he lied, "what they're going to say or do." But he thought: But I do know what they want me to do, and just how to do it, when we're making love. I know just exactly how much pressure and where, as if they're telling me, and I can feel them approach their orgasms. Well, hell, I think I can, anyway.

"Enough of the intellectual my new wife," he said tossing her over his shoulder as he stood, catching her totally by surprise. The dress pulled tight and her breasts popped out of the neckline, as he swatted her playfully on her ass and headed for the bedroom. "It's time to start filling that little pussy of yours with some sperm. The healer says your safe, so I'm going to see just how much your pussy will hold."

She squealed and kicked her legs in mock indignation as he walked the few steps to the bedroom. Instead of gently lying her down as she had probably expected, he tossed her onto her back, landing beside her on his knees to add to the bounce the bed imparted to her. Then bounced again just to see her breasts wobble, teasing her as he had some of the girls from time to time.

Her pseudo pout was ruined by her laughter. He leaned over and locked his mouth to hers, stifling her protests about being treated like a teenager. After kissing her, hungrily, he worked his way down her neck, then despite her weak protests, deliberately put a hickey where it would show, knowing the girls would give her hell about it. Then down to her breasts, where he made her wait long minutes as he did figure eights around both breasts, kissing and gently biting while gradually closing in on first one nipple, then the other, but never quite touching either one.

Finally, Helen growled in her throat, grabbed his head and yanked his mouth into position on her left nipple. "Suck," she hissed, her hands in his hair. The orgasm slammed into her before she had time to fill her lungs with enough air. She squeaked, arched her back, shivered all over and came. Taking a deep breath she whimpered as the orgasm went on, and on.

The world tunneled around her for a moment, and when she could think again, she realized that he had her dress pushed up, her panties off, and his mouth on her sex. As she looked down between her swaying breasts, his head was partially covered by the skirt of her wedding dress. If there had ever been a more erotic sight in her life, she couldn't remember it.

Then his tongue that had been, seemingly forever circling, touched her clit, after a moment of teasing, his lips grasped her most sensitive place and sucked; his tongue seemed to attack. She heard someone screaming, and briefly wondered who it was, but didn't really care at the moment. Her back arched, and her knees slammed against his head. She ran out of air, but couldn't stop cuming long enough to breathe. The world went black.

Later she felt someone touching her forehead and wiping her face with a cool cloth. Shit! she thought, the intellectual in her forgotten, I feel like I've run ten miles, and he hasn't even pushed that gorgeous dick in me, yet. I love this man. Forgive me John; I'll always love you, too. But I love this man.

He gave her a glass of ice water to drink, then after putting a pillow at the head of the bed, sat up, pulling her to him. He stroked her hair and kissed her neck, forehead, then her mouth as she snuggled to him. She was embarrassed. She wasn't taking care of her man, and they had been here an hour or more. He had undressed while she had been out.

"I need this off," she said, moving to the side of the bed and standing. But suddenly, he was there, unzipping the dress and gently removing it, kissing down her body as the dress pooled at her feet. As his mouth gripped a nipple, she eased back from him, "No, Baby. If you give me another set of orgasms like the last one, I'll be asleep until morning."

She dropped to her knees in front of him, taking his rock-hard cock in her hand, marveling at its shape and size. If a cock can be beautiful, this one is,  she said to herself as she touched the tip with her tongue. She licked it like it was an ice cream cone, not caring what she looked like, only enthralled with his cock, relearning his taste. And the taste spiraled her already overloaded senses up yet another notch.

Jeff smiled down at her as she spread her lips and forced the large head into her mouth. How did he ever get this thing into me the other night? No wonder I was sore the next day. I could never be his only wife. I couldn't even make love to him two nights in a row. Oh, my, after he is through with me tonight, I won't be able to please him for a week, but sore or not, he is going to know that he is with a woman tonight. I know all those girls think I cannot compete with them in the sex department. But I am going to show this, my beloved new husband, that those beautiful teenage wives are not the only ones who can fuck. I may not be able to walk for a week, but Jeff is going to know that he was with a woman tonight.

Fighting a giggle, she sucked gently at first, then harder. Suddenly realizing what he wanted, she sucked hard, then released, then repeated the pattern. Time drifted as her world became this marvelous cock in her mouth. She had two small orgasms, back to back, without touching herself in any way. Fighting away from the orgasms, she forced as much of the cock into her mouth as she could, trying to keep her teeth away from his member, but worrying that since it was so large, she was touching him too much, anyway.

He put his hand on the back of her head, his hips moving forward to push his cock against the back of her throat. As he rhythmically pumped into her mouth, touching her throat on every stroke, she fought back her gag reflex. She would not insult her new husband by gagging on his beautiful cock. After a short time, she didn't notice the gag anymore, but then felt his cock throbbing in her mouth.

"Wait, Baby," he said, then he had to say it again before she heard him, so intent was she on this wonderful cock in her mouth. "I want my first load to go up that sweet pussy. I want my sperm in your womb. I want to make you my woman."

In a daze, she found herself on the bed, her legs open to him, her knees pulled up, and the soles of her feet flat on the bed. She felt his cock touch her nether lips, then push them open as he inserted the tip inside her. "I love you, Little Teacher," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she gasped, then tension driving her crazy, she grasped his hips, locked her legs around his upper thighs and pushed hard back at him just as he pushed forward.

Something had changed, she knew it had, but wasn't sure exactly what. It had been wonderful when he had made love to her in her apartment, but nothing like this. When his cock pushed inside her, it felt right. This was what was supposed to happen. She tensed her leg muscles and slammed up to him just as he pushed again.

His cock roared up her pussy and slammed into her cervix. "Yes!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, never even considering the pain, her mind focused on pleasing her husband.

Jeff tried to be easy, but each time he pushed into her, she slammed her pussy up to him. Then after they had only done it for a few minutes, she started chanting, "Cum in me. Cum in me. Pump your sperm into my pussy," all the time ramming her body upward, trying to get more of his cock into her, her tight, shallow pussy, almost seeming to try to suck the cum out of him.

Jeff focused, afraid to wait any longer, lest she really hurt herself as her swimmer's legs slammed her pussy up to him with a strength that was astonishing in such a small frame. As he felt his balls tighten and his prostate cramp, he said, "I going to cum in you, Baby."

"Tell me. Tell me," she said through gritted teeth. "Tell me," she chanted, her legs tightening even more around his hips, her pussy beginning to spasm.

He picked up his rhythm, sliding down that hill, no longer able to stop. "I'm going to pump sperm into your womb. I'm going to make you mine. I'm going to cum in your pussy..." he gasped, drawing the last word out as his cock jerked and the first long stream geysered into her. He slammed into her and held hard against her cervix as his cock sprayed semen again.

"Oh, it's hot," she squeaked, then taking a deep breath, she screamed out the first of a series of orgasms that continued on and on as she thrashed under him. She breathed, gasped, and tried to stay conscious, but his cock pulsed again. This time she distinctly felt his seed flow into her womb. Then she knew. She felt something she had never felt in her life. Time seemed to stand still. The feeling expanded, flowing through her, became all of her.

Colors changed, sounds seemed low-toned and sluggish. The next pulse of his cock, and the resulting torrent of semen seemed to last for a long, long time. The warmth that was his ejaculate inside her seemed to expand until its warmth — and something else — completely engulfed her. Then she knew. She knew — her being knew that she belonged to this man. Belonged in a way that before tonight she could not have even conceived of the degree. Knew also that "belonged" was far too shallow a word.

No wonder the others didn't make sense when they tried to tell me. I belong to him now. I thought I did before, but not like this. I am literally part of him, now,  some part of her mind, thought. No wonder Diana said that the bond was both ways and could not be broken. I thought I knew what she meant, but I was not even close.

She heard a groan from him as his cock pulsed again as far up inside her as it would go. She felt more warmth flow inside her. Whatever logical, reasoning part of her mind had remained awake, gave up. The world grayed and went away. The last she remembered was someone screaming.

After a while, Jeff pulled his limbering cock from her abused pussy, reached over and got a washcloth. He quickly put it between her legs, and staggered to the sink to wet another one with warm water. Looking in the mirror, he grinned at his image. His hair was soaked with sweat, and his chest, face and arms were beaded. He took the wet cloth intended for Helen and wiped his face and body down. Then dried himself. Wetting another cloth with warm water, he went back to the bed.

In the living room, six wives stood in a group hug, tears flowing like rain, while their guests tried to discretely look on, not understanding.

He gently cleaned her up, then put another dry cloth back in place to catch the overflow that still oozed out of her lips. Picking up the phone, he punched for intercom and dialed the living room.

Arlene, who had been staying almost within touching distance of the phone for the last hour, snatched it up before the sound was more than a faint beginning. "Arlene," she said, then waited.

"Mission accomplished," her dad told her.

"Thanks, Dad," she sniffed, then giggled into the phone. Hanging up, she turned to the other wives, and unnecessarily repeated, "Mission accomplished." Then they all hugged again.

Evie stood quietly watching the wives, as she had been for some time now. Although the women had tried to hide it, Evie had noticed flushed faces, and definite signs of arousal. That in itself wasn't unreasonable, since everyone in the room knew what Jeff and Helen were doing in the honeymoon suite, but Evie would bet that at least two of Jeff's wives had orgasms a little while ago. Shortly after that, they had, seemingly, spontaneously all joined in a group hug. A few minutes later, the phone had rung and Arlene had made her announcement.

Since there weren't any dummies in the room, everyone soon figured out that the marriage had been consummated. But Evie realized that the phone call was just a conformation of something the women already knew. And from their looks, knew intimately.

Wainwright and Margaret had brought up several bottles of wine that they had chosen from the wine cellar. Soon, the friends offered another toast to the couple, in absentia, that their marriage — to Jeff and all his wives — would be a long and fruitful one.

Jeff dimmed the light, pulled a sheet over them, and snuggled with his new wife. Soon his body relaxed in sleep.

Later, Helen's mind touched back with reality as she drifted up from her dreams. In that moment just before awakening when there was no real time, she thought of her new husband. He was asleep beside her. A sense of comfort flowed over her as she realized that she had not waited to listen to his breathing to determine that he was sleeping — she just knew. For a while now, and gradually increasing in intensity, she had been able to tell where Jeff was. But this was more, and was of an entirely different scale.

She remembered how Diana and Laura had appeared in the kitchen when Jeff and the girls had been "making out" in the living room. She had realized then, that they had some way, to a least "feel" intense emotions, or somehow know that he had been having sex with the girls. But her logical mind had tried to find ways — logical ways — for them to have known, or guessed.

The night she had spent with them in their suite, she hadn't been able to have sex with Jeff, since she had been too sore. But he had kissed her pussy, and satisfied her, anyway. But while she watched him make love to one of his wives, others had climaxed at the same time he did. They were playing with each other, or themselves, and it could have been a logical thing. They, as she, could readily see when he was nearing his peak, but feeling now, and understanding the way she did, she didn't think they would have to listen or watch to match their orgasms with his.

Her thoughts before seemed now like befuddled dreams. To say that I know where Jeff is, is like me saying I know where my right hand is. I don't have to say it. I don't have to try logically to explain it to someone else; I just know where my hand is. I thought I was feeling like his wives when I began to be able to tell where he was, but I wasn't even close. I know where my hand is — I know where my husband is. I also thought that this "marrying" was just a more formal way of us living with him. Now, my naivety on the subject is almost amusing. "Marrying" is far too simple a word. Well, they all tried to tell me. I just couldn't understand before.

She smiled as her mind surfaced into the world. She, inch by inch eased away from Jeff, used the bathroom, then found a hand mirror and surveyed the damage. Hmmm, got a little reckless. I do not hold a candle to those girls, and Laura and Diana have the added appeal over the girls of being adult women, and have experience to enhance their allure, not to say anything about their absolutely startling beauty. I am forty-five, although with the healer, I look thirty-five, but still, I cannot compete, but Jeff will know that he has been with a mature woman when we leave this suite in the morning. I will worry about recovering later. I will not be last in his mind when he remembers his wedding nights. I will not be the weakest, or allow him to consider that I am not able to take care of my man. I am sure the girls have ruled me out, know that I can never compete with them as far as stamina, and beauty is concerned.

No, I cannot compete with them about the beauty, or their vibrant youth,  she mistakenly thought. But I am not dead, yet. All those years of laps every morning were not for nothing. Mr. Matthews — Mr. Alpha Male is going to need a nap tomorrow. A long nap, while I sit in the hot tub all day, maybe. But he is going to be tired when we walk into that kitchen. My husband is going to service his new wife tonight, and his new wife is going to take care of her husband.

Grinning, she put the hand mirror back on the shelf and walked into the bedroom. She grabbed the edge of the sheet and flipped it clear of Jeff's groin. Going to all fours on the bed, she took his slumbering cock into her mouth and sucked.

Jeff opened a bleary eye and looked at her. Momentarily taking her mouth off his cock, she said, "Wake up, Big Boy, we have a whole lot of unfinished business before eight o'clock."

"Uh, Baby, how is..."

"My pussy," she emphasized, "is just great. It is leaking my husband's cum, as it should be." Not paying any more attention to his protestations and worry about her, she took the head of his cock back into her mouth and concentrated on giving the best blowjob she knew how to give. She made sure he could see her breasts, remaining on her hands and knees as his cock quickly stood straight up.

Pulling her mouth off, almost regretfully, she said, "Put a pillow against the headboard, and sit up lover."

When Jeff complied, she straddled him, grabbed his cock, rose up as high as she could to get her pussy over his dick, adjusted herself, then relaxed downward.

Seeing the look on her face, and remembering how hard she had fucked up against him, Jeff reached for her hips, afraid that she would slam down on him and do damage to herself.

Catching his hands, she redirected them to her breasts. "Pull on my nipples, and play with my breasts. I'll handle this," she directed, grinning at him to take the sting out of her words.

"Easy, Baby. You don't have to..."

Helen pushed down — hard. Then when his cock slammed to the bottom of her pussy, she redirected her lower body motion forward, then back. A few horizontal thrusts back and forth, and she slowly rotated her hips, then up. After holding his cockhead just in the entrance of her pussy, she slowly pushed down. Varying the amount of times she moved back and forth before rising up, she continued. After a couple of minutes, she showed him that she had practiced her Kegel exercises during the five years of her marriage.

From what I hear, I am not as proficient at this as Diana, but I think I just attracted your attention,  she thought as she felt his cock jerk inside her.

Knowing that Jeff was trying to hold back to keep from making her too sore, she said, "My Husband, please just allow me this. I don't expect, nor want, another wedding night. I want to remember this one always. You have already made love to me, wonderfully. Now, I want as many loads of that wonderful cum of yours as I can possible get during this night. Please, Jeff. Just this for me."

"Baby, I was very gentle with you the other night, and only did it to you twice, and for not very long each time, either. You were really sore, and Diana was worried about you. Please don't overdue this. Just because I have seven wives, it doesn't mean that you're going to be neglected..."

Helen stopped for a minute, and leaning forward, kissed him. "This is not about that. I have watched you make love to your wives. I know that I won't be neglected in any way."

Sitting back up, her breasts thrust out, she looked at him, a teasing expression on her face. "Are we going to argue on our wedding night?"

"Baby, I..."

"Fuck me, Jeff. I want as much semen as you can put in me. I will not be happy any other way. Jeff, please."

Jeff looked at the beautiful doctor sitting astride his groin, her round breasts a little large for her small frame. Her nipples were a dark pink and elongated from his sucking on them, and her arousal.

What has happened to our reserved, always-proper doctor? Is she trying to outdo the others in the swollen pussy display? I can't believe she would get caught up in this.

Helen began her sequence again, her breasts bobbing and swaying as she moved about and caressed his dick. Resigning himself, unable to think of anything else to keep her from hurting herself, he concentrated on her delightful breasts, and her shallow pussy with her cervix riding on the head of his dick, trying to cum as quickly as he could.

Grimacing as she swirled her hips, rubbing her cervix hard on the, now tender, head of his cock, he felt himself slide past the point of no return. "Uhhh, here it comes, Baby," he gasped out through clenched teeth as his prostate cramped, pushing his cum through his cock.

Helen suddenly tripled her efforts, her ass going back and forth at a very rapid pace, then as the first of his thick cum spurted against her cervix, she sucked in her breath, whined, then screamed loudly enough that Jeff was glad Wainwright had insulated so well. Otherwise, they would certainly have heard her in the living room.

Helen hunched back and forth a few more times, raised way up, held for a moment, then dropped. Her overfilled little pussy descended on the piston inside it, forcing sperm and air out around their juncture, making an embarrassing sound.

If she heard the sound, she didn't acknowledge it, just slumped forward onto Jeff's chest, her breasts providing a delightful feeling to him. His cock pulsed several more times, sending his seed into her womb. He put his arms around her, holding her gently as she gasped and shuttered for long moments, then occasionally as aftershocks ripped through her pussy.

Helen was soon sound asleep, or passed out, Jeff didn't know which. She was breathing well, so he didn't move her. While they were making love, he had slid down until he was lying on his back, instead of the way they had started with him sitting up. He was thankful for that, because he didn't want to move her; he just wanted to sleep — and he did.

Twice more, Helen woke him, insisting that he service her. The first time, he gently made love to her with her on her back. The second time, she woke him riding his cock, and almost wild woman. Each time, Jeff tried to cum as fast as he could and still give her numerous orgasms. He tried in vain to check on her pussy, but she had long sense turned the lights down too low to see her well, and refused to let him get close enough to look, insisting her pussy was just as it should be.

As they showered together, he could see her swollen pussy lips, even though she kept her legs clamped together much of the time. As he stood at the sink shaving after the shower, he thought, Well, at least she seems okay,  then it dawned on him. She had showered, and it had been quite a while since they had fucked; she wouldn't be leaking much sperm if they went to the kitchen now. He had decided after last night that Diana was probably right, that Helen was going to display a well-fucked pussy just like everyone else. Oh, shit. She has set me up to do it again just before we leave, and her pussy is already wrecked.

Helen walked into the bathroom just as he was finishing shaving; knelt down and took his cock into her mouth. He flinched, even from the gentle pressure she put on the head of his cock with her mouth. At first, he thought maybe his cock wouldn't get up, but he knew better than that — she did, too. In thirty seconds, despite his best efforts, it was standing at full staff.

At some point while she was sucking him, he had dropped the razor in the sink, concentrating on more important matters. Taking him by his cock, she led him to the bed, then positioned herself on all fours with her ass at the edge of the mattress.

"Do me once more, Husband. Then you can carry me to the kitchen to greet my sister-wives."

"Helen, Baby, you're..."

Helen wiggled her ass and looked over her shoulder. "One more filling, and we'll show your other wives that I'm not a wimp. Don't misunderstand, Darling. I love those teenagers, but now they will understand a little more that experience counts, too. Mount up, Husband."

"Baby, I..." but her look over her shoulder stopped his complaint in its tracks. Easing his sore cockhead into her swollen, and probably, very sore pussy, he pushed gently to the bottom. She stiffened and hissed in a breath, but pushed hard back against him. Knowing it was useless to argue, he concentrated on being as easy on her as he could while bringing on his own orgasm as soon as possible.

When his balls erupted and pumped yet another enormous load of sperm into Helen, she screamed "Yes!" to the top of her lungs, her orgasms racking her already tired body.

When she recovered and he pulled out, she tried to hold her nether lips together, fussing when cum dribbled out anyway as Jeff helped her get her dress back on. Standing up, she slipped into her heels, as Jeff quickly dressed.

"Now, pick me up and carry me into that kitchen. It's five after eight."

"Baby, you don't have to do this..."

"Hush, you beautiful man, and pick me up."

Just before they rounded the corner before the kitchen, Helen took her hand away from her pussy and pulled her dress down, clamping her legs tightly closed. Fred, Margaret, Dave, Evie, Bill, Kathy and Fred were standing in the hallway near the living room as Jeff carried Helen down the hallway. It didn't take a genius to tell that Helen was absolutely glowing, and that Jeff, who had forgotten to brush his hair, was a little worse for wear.

SATURDAY MORNING

Helen finger waved as Jeff carried her past, everyone smiling, giggling or outright laughing. Jeff pushed the kitchen door open with his foot as his other wives sat waiting for them at the table. Helen sat up straighter in Jeff's arms, grinning a Cheshire grin, looked at her now, sister-wives and repeated what she had been told. She pulled her short skirt higher, spread her legs, and pushed. "I'm broken, but I am full of sperm."

There was a distinct "plop" as a large glob of semen hit the shiny marble floor. Instant chaos as everyone mobbed her, the girls laughing so hard they could hardly be understood as they congratulated their teacher, now sister-wife. Diana stood stunned as she stared at Helen's swollen pussy.

I knew she was going to do this. I just knew it. Jeff said our resident genius would never belittle herself this way. Yeah, Jeff, that gob of semen on the floor looks like she just made a statement. She can doubtless be the height of sophistication when she wants to be, but she just proved she's a real woman, too. And that she took care of her man last night. Shit, she's swollen worse than I was. I'm not going to let her suffer with this. My pussy hurt for two days, and wasn't comfortable for a couple more; I almost hurt just looking at her.

Noticing the look on Diana's face, Jeff spun around, and rapidly walking with his new wife still in his arms, headed for the hot tub, Helen snuggled against his chest and smiling. Most of their guests were still standing in the hallway chatting, obviously not expecting the private "ceremony" in the kitchen to be over so quickly.

Everyone smiled as they passed, and Jeff silently thanked them for not teasing him about carrying Helen. What possessed her to do this? And why in the hell can't I tell my wives "no" when they decide to do this? I'm supposed to be the fucking Alpha Male, and they lead me around like I have a ring in my nose. I knew that little pussy of hers would be wrecked. This is an intelligent woman in my arms. I watched her scan one of the new textbooks, but then I realized that she was reading, and probably memorizing at a speed that I can't even conceive of. Yet she does this? I'll never understand women.

He suddenly hugged her tight, causing her to squeak as he crushed her to him. "I love you, my little intellectual idiot," he said, smiling down at her, his heart so full of his love for his wives — and this new one — that it felt as if it would explode.

"Thank you — I think," she teased, not reading his thoughts, but having deduced almost exactly what he had been thinking about her actions. "They had to know that the old broad was not over the hill yet," she drawled, not using her precise, perfectly enunciated speech that she normally used. Then back in character, "Now they will more readily realize that I am a sister-wife in every aspect of the term."

Seeing the look on his face as she helped push the sliding door open for him, her still in his arms, she quietly continued, "I know you don't understand. Maybe it is not a totally logical thing, but now I truly feel like your wife, and that they are now truly my sisters."

Jeff just shook his head. No use arguing. He had learned long ago that changing a woman's mind on "it just has to be this way" type of issues was right up at the same level as shutting down Niagara Falls with a shovel.

He let Helen down next to the tub long enough to get her dress and shoes off, then picked her up and gently lowered her into the water. "I'll get the healer," he said, lightly kissing her mouth.

"You will, not, " she admonished, grabbing his hand. "Go eat breakfast and send something back for me. I am suddenly famished. And so very, very proud of my new husband."

"But, Baby, you're..."

"Perfectly normal for a woman who has just had her brains fucked out," she said, giggling as his wives filed in, now accompanied by Margaret, Kathy and Evie. "Now, go away my wonderful man, so I can tell everyone what happened," she finished, pulling his head down to hers and giving him an open-mouthed kiss that showed everyone what she was capable of. It certainly swelled his dick. He managed to break the kiss before his cock reached the rock-hard stage, but just barely.

Why in the crap won't she let me use the healer? he thought, as he stood up from kneeling beside the hot tub. Again coming face to face with the unfathomable actions of yet another woman, he ran his hand through his rumbled hair and headed back to the kitchen in search of nourishment — a lot of it.



-------

Chapter 24

Jeff, having forgotten about the gob of semen left on the floor earlier, since he had been so concerned with getting Helen to the hot tub and whatever small relief it offered, remembered as soon as he pushed the kitchen door open. Thankfully, Helen's evidence was cleaned up.

Boy, all I need is to have those guys come in here and see a big gob of semen on the floor after they knew that we had a little ceremony in here this morning. That would make even me blush. And they would be dropping comments for the next twenty years.

Grinning that the men had missed a good shot at him, he noticed that the table was set for five, so he assumed he would soon have the guys for company. Since whoever was going to cook hadn't shown up yet, he picked up a carafe of coffee, poured himself a cup and sat down at the smaller of the kitchen tables. A couple of minutes later, Frank, Dave, Bill and Fred filed in and immediately started ragging him about his appearance.

"Forgot to comb your hair this morning, eh, Jeff?" Fred said, laying a hand on Jeff's shoulder as he walked past.

Jeff, realizing that he was right, grinned. "Uh, I guess I did."

"Ah... he had more pressing things on his mind," Dave teased. "He was probably working hard, going over his plans for the fortress as he waited for his new wife to get ready."

"Hmmm," Wainwright said, looking at the side of Jeff's face. "Missed a patch or two of beard, also."

Jeff, remembering that Helen had started giving him a blowjob as he was finishing shaving, couldn't remember if he had checked his face after shaving or not. Thinking about it, he didn't remember finishing. He put his hand on the side of his face, and sure enough, there was a little stubble on a spot or two.

"I do believe the man is blushing," Dave laughed.

Jeff knew he wasn't blushing, but there was no use denying it. They would only get worse.

"I don't believe we're going to do any shooting this morning," Wainwright said. "Well, maybe after Jeff takes his nap."

Bill didn't tease him, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

Jeff, trying to divert attention from himself, turned to the pilot and said, "I want to thank you again for the hurry-up flight. I know that had to have been rough on your two."

"No, problem, Mr. Matthews."

"Doggone it. Will you quit with the 'Mr.' I keep wanting to look over my shoulder to see if my dad is standing behind me," Jeff laughed to take the sting out of his words.

"Alright, alright, I'll try to remember," Madison said, a grin on his own face as he sat down with a cup of coffee.

They talked for fifteen minutes or so, and Jeff was wondering if the women had forgotten them, when the door swung open and Laura breezed in. Laughing, she grabbed Jeff and kissed him hard. "Wow, Baby," she said as she pulled back. "You're walking tall with your harem this morning. I hated to leave, but I got the general outline, anyway. Helen promised she would tell me everything later.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she said, turning to the others, almost bubbling. "And how are all of you this morning? It looks like our Alpha Male is a little worse for wear," she finished, mussing Jeff's hair even more as the men greeted her.

Turning away and prancing toward the work area, she called over her shoulder, "Everything is ready to go. I'll have breakfast on the table for you in ten minutes."

"Alpha Male?" Fred repeated, raising an eyebrow and looking at Jeff.

"Ah, it's just an inside joke," Jeff tried to downplay.

Dave snorted the coffee he was sipping, almost strangling. When Fred looked a question at him, Dave just grinned and shook his head. Captain Madison looked thoughtful, but didn't say anything.

Before anything else was said, the door flew open and Diana strode in. She didn't look at anyone, but instead walked to the other end of the long kitchen, turned and crooked a finger at Jeff.

"You better salute when you get there, Jeff," Dave said just loud enough for the men to hear, but nobody smarted off in response.

By the time Jeff got to the end of the kitchen, Diana and Laura were in conference. "What's up?" he said, knowing by Diana's body language that he was in trouble, and knew what it probably was.

"Helen is wrecked, his first wife quietly hissed. The outside of her pussy is swollen so badly it scares me. No telling what she is like inside. Go get the healer, Jeff."

"Baby, I already offered to do that, and tried to get her to stop before she was so swollen, but she wouldn't..."

"Go get the healer, Jeff. Right now! I'm not going to see her setting there in agony any longer. Oh, she says she is fine, but that's bullshit. Now go get the healer and fix her. Now." Looking over at the men, in a much more normal voice, she said, "They obviously know something is wrong. I'll smooth things over, and help Laura fix breakfast. Now hurry."

"What about Kathy?" Jeff started.

"The girls are going to show her our suite. They'll wait until you leave the suite to bring Kathy off the deck. Put the healer under your shirt or something. You'll pass each other in the hall." Anticipating Jeff, she continued, "I already told Helen that it's going to happen. She's made her point, but I'm not going to let her suffer. This is far beyond a sore vagina. She won't give you any shit. Now, please go, Jeff. I can't stand to see my sister-wife like this."

Startling Diana, and amusing Laura, he reached over, grabbed his first wife by the back of the neck, and kissed her hard for a few seconds. "I'm proud of you," he said, chuckling as he turned and strode toward the door.

"Be back in a little bit, guys. Go ahead and eat when it's ready. I'll get mine when I get back." Jeff said as he walked past.

"Are you talking about breakfast?" Fred "innocently" asked, trying not to grin, having seen the exchange between Diana and Jeff — an exchange that he labeled as an ass chewing.

In the suite, he entered the closet and picked up the healer where he kept her hidden unless she asked to be left in the bedroom with them at night.

{{{?? }}}

Putting her on his shoulder, he sat on the bed, relaxed and tried to concentrate.

Good morning my little friend. Helen, my new mate has... 

He felt the world swirl around him, then their special place unfolded as they almost seemed to become one.

{{{ Amusement }}}

Yeah, I know, but she is hurting.

Shortly, he was walking down the hallway with the healer tucked under his right arm beneath his shirt. Just before they reached the deck where the hot tub was, they passed Jennie and Ann cutting up with Kathy as they walked toward the bedroom. Ann winked at him as they passed.

Helen was sitting on a chase lounge next to the tub with a big towel wrapped around her, Arlene and Melissa flanking her, the remains of a tray nearby. "Did I get you into trouble?" she asked, obviously concerned as Jeff knelt beside her.

"No, My Love," he lied as he leaned over and touched his lips to hers. When he broke the kiss, he brought the healer out, motioning for Helen to recline the chase lounge and lie back. Brushing the towel open down her front, he put the healer on her chest, then sat back on his heals and waited.

The blue beams came on, barely discernable in the sunlight. The healer chirped, then slowly moved down Helen's body. Helen's face turned red as the healer neared her groin, her body tensing, but the healer stopped just short of her mound.

After a moment, a tone of awe in her voice, Helen said, "That feels — odd," but she relaxed and closed her eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, the healer chirped again.

{{{ Amusement. A sense of accomplishment. }}}

Jeff picked the healer up, tucking her back into her hiding place, kissed his new wife, and left.

{{{??? }}}

Jeff stopped as he walked down the hallway. He had intended to put the healer in one of the closets in a conference room to conceal her, since the girls were showing Kathy the suite, but now he stopped.

After a moment, he went on into the conference room, locked the door and removed his shirt. Repositioning the healer, he waited for her to contour herself to his shoulders, then slipped his shirt back on.

Is that what you wanted, Little One?

{{{ Contentment. }}}

Oh, well,  he thought, only Kathy, Bill and Fred don't know about the healer, and I doubt that they would notice the little bit of extra thickness across my shoulders.

As Jeff reentered the kitchen, the men were well on their way to finishing their breakfast. Diana set a hot cup of coffee at his place and piled scrambled eggs onto a platter. Laura added four biscuits that she had just taken from the oven, then added a steak just out of the frying pan.

Fred grinned over at Jeff as breakfast appeared in front of him, practically as he sat down. "Now that's timing," Fred chuckled, "I bet they couldn't do that again."

"No, not until tomorrow," Dave mysteriously said. At least it was an odd comment to those that didn't know about the women keeping track of Jeff.

"Yeah, they take good care of me," Jeff said, caressing Laura's arm as she split his biscuits and put a big dollop of butter in each one.

Bill looked on for a moment, then, "I can not conceive of my wife buttering my biscuits for me. Heck, I can't conceive of her baking biscuits for me. And I know those aren't ready made. I watched Laura put them in the oven."

Just to egg things on a little, Laura kissed Jeff like she wanted to become part of him, then laughing, went to do something else on the other side of the kitchen.

Diana set a big glass of orange juice by Jeff's plate, then kissed him as passionately as Laura had, just to make the men envious and to show them that everything was fine with the Matthews clan. Smiling, she went back to cleaning the cookware.

"And what have you got scheduled for us today?" Frank tried to innocently ask, but was obviously messing with Jeff.

"Well..." Jeff said, drawing things out. "I thought about taking a nap." Laughing as they did, he continued, "Seriously, I think we need to have a talk and bring Fred up to speed on the alarm system. As a matter of fact, other than the basics that you had time to show me, Frank, I need to learn about the system, too. Then we need to go over the fortress idea with him, and show him around the property."

"Fortress?" the detective asked.

Jeff pushed his plate back as he finished. "We might call it something else before it's finished, but that's what I initially said; although, that word might be a little misleading. We're talking about an extensive underground area, capable of supporting a number of people for a period of time — say a year — without outside intervention at all. That means clean air — free of any harmful chemicals or radiation — food, power, waste disposal, etc., plus a means of defense of any incidental assault. Say, marauding bands of individuals bent upon hurting us, or taking our food and possessions."

Pausing to take another bite, he continued, "That's where Fred comes in," he said, glancing at the others. "He has a military background, and extensive knowledge in weapons and surveillance. Coupled with Frank's technical knowledge and beyond state-of-the-art equipment, I think we can come up with a system that will be the optimum for keeping us, and our loved ones safe, should the shit hit the fan. Getting everyone together while we're still in the planning stage seems like the logical approach, rather than realize after our project in completed that we should have allowed for something that would seem obvious to either Fred or Frank.

"Fred has told me," he continuing as he nodded toward the detective, "that he isn't ready to move out here, yet. He wants to visit with his kids some, and let things settle for awhile, but I want to get his initial input, and get him on the payroll before he gets too far away from us," Jeff finished, winking at Fred.

Looking at the contractor, "Oh, and Dave, I've talked to the women and asked them to make a list of the things that they think they would need in our shelter. Helen got involved and made it a school research project, so those lists will probably be a lot more involved, and logically laid out. And you can bet that group of girls will think of things that we would never consider, not to mention what the women will come up with, and we want to be sure to get Margaret's input, too."

Dave spoke up. "Because of what happened, uh, I had to put off the feasibility study, or whatever the architects are calling it, until Monday. His people are coming out then to look the area over." Everyone knew that he was referring to the funeral.

Fred, realizing that Dave had become uncomfortable because of mentioning the rescheduling because of the funeral, cleared his throat and said. "I realize that all of you were affected by what happened, and I appreciate you have done. Jeff and his family would not have been able to get there in time if it hadn't been for you allowing him to use your plane, Mr. Wainwright. And Captain, you and your copilot worked a lot of extra hours after an already hectic workweek. And Mr. Henson, Jeff tells me that you and your wife took over and kept things running while he was gone. All of you — I appreciate it."

All the men downplayed anything they might have done. Dave and Frank, like Jeff, claimed there was no Mr. associated with his names. Jeff broke up the small amount of tension that had formed, especially with Fred now obviously thinking of his wife. "Let's get out of the way and go sit somewhere more comfortable," Jeff said after finishing the last of his orange juice.

Before they could get up, the kitchen door flew open and the rest of the women came in. Helen immediately plopped down in Jeff's lap and kissed him. "Wow," she teased, "We thought you would be taking a nap by now."

"Hah. And who do you expect to believe that, my newest wife. Every one of you knew exactly where I was," he said, tickling her until she giggled like one of her students.

Helen got up and joining the others as they all trooped out of the kitchen, leaving a quiet behind them.

"As I said, Jeff laughed, "before I was so, very nicely interrupted. Shall we go somewhere a little more comfortable to continue this conversation?"

After discussing the security system and the fortress for a while, they decided to give Fred a tour of the grounds to give him more of an idea about the general area they needed to secure.

-------

Kathy found Bill coming out of his room. "Want to go for a walk, Captain?"

Bill laughed and returned, "Yeah, that sounds fine, pilot."

When they walked out the back, they saw the men on ATV's on the backside of the level area behind the range.

"That looks like fun, Bill."

"Looks like they have a couple more," he said, pointing to an open bay door of the garage. "Want to ride around a bit?"

Hesitating a moment, she answered, "No, I think I would still like to go for a walk."

They didn't say anything for a while, just more or less aimlessly wandered around the house where they found a bench in front under a large tree.

"So what do you think of the Matthews household?" Bill said, leaning back.

"Boy, now that's a loaded question," Kathy said, a smirk on her face as she sat down. "What you're really asking is what do I think about Jeff's harem? Isn't that right?"

Bills eyes crinkled with amusement as he looked over at his copilot. "Are we a bit touchy about that subject?" he responded, question for question, then continuing, "Actually, it's been obvious for a while, but seeing them here at their home does tend to make it a little more obvious, not to mention the wedding," he laughed."

"Obvious, as in they dote on him?"

"Yeah, that. But I noticed a while back."

Kathy sat up straighter. "Bill Madison, you didn't know anything about it until they told us Thursday night."

"Uh, well, I guess I did a little earlier. The last time they went to Georgia, Jeff came up and sat with me for a while, and... well, we got on the subject. After some conversation, he finally asked me how many of the women that I thought were his. I told him all of them, and he didn't deny it."

"And you didn't tell me?"

Bill laughed and crossed his legs. "What was I supposed to do? Say, 'Hey Kathy, did you know that Jeff is shagging all of them?'"

"Well, you could have warned me. When they told me, I must have looked like an idiot sitting there with my mouth open. Oh, I suspected something was going on, but not a harem."

"So what do you think of the Matthews household?"

"Well, I guess I was a little bit nervous when we first got here. But I was impressed with what he left that lady at the restaurant, and he didn't throw the money out on the table for all of us to see. I saw her take a folded bill from under a cup. I'm pretty sure what it was. Our table was close to the window, and we were parked right outside. Even if I hadn't seen the bill, I would have noticed the look on her face.

"But they don't act like rich people. They wouldn't let me get them a thing on the plane. They waited on themselves, and they didn't make a big deal out of it, either. And here, they include me in everything. They never even mention money, not even by inference."

A Steller's Jay saw them after it landed in a nearby tree. Eying them for a moment, he flew down and landed a few feet from them. Cocking his head from side to side, his plumb atop his head looking a little like a knight's helmet, he checked them out, then deciding that they looked like the people that gave him treats, he hopped closer, stopping about five feet away to stare at them.

"Oh, look, Bill, look. The Matthews' have feeding stations all around. But I didn't expect a Jay to be so tame. His blue is so intense it almost hurts your eyes."

Bill chuckled, and they enjoyed the bird for a moment, wishing that they had something to feed it. It got tired of the people that wouldn't cooperate, launched itself into the air, and was gone in a flash.

Kathy turned to look, but couldn't find the bird in the trees. Smiling, she continued, "The Matthews dress in jeans or shorts. They don't have servants, and from what I hear and saw in the kitchen, they cook their own food. Well, other than having the wedding catered. Of course, there was some serious money that walked into that living room last night. Those dresses didn't come cheap — and all of them identical. They told me that they all — except Helen — had on identical black outfits when they served for the meal. But hey, it was a wedding.

"Jenny told me that they had a cleaning service come in twice a week for a few hours, and even that is to keep up the part of the center that isn't used much — dusting and things like that, and to take care of the kitchen floor, and some of the hardwood floors. Like I said, they're not like any rich people that I've been around."

Bill snapped his fingers. "That's what I'm talking about. Hey, do you remember the ass in the hotel that we saw — what was it? Three or four times — throwing money around, making a big show out of being rich? I'll bet he doesn't have a hundredth what these people have, and he acted like he was better than everyone in his sight. I could name a few other times like that."

Kathy sighed, "Yeah, he almost gave that poor manager a nervous breakdown complaining about everything. Mr. Wainwright likes his limos, and rides in luxury on the plane, but he has never talked down to me. Not to say anything about just paying off all my bills. I still can't believe that."

Madison grew silent for a moment. "Jeff tried to get me to go with them just before I saw you. I don't know anything about building an underground 'fortress, ' but he tried his best to include me. The more I'm around these people, the more I respect them, harem or not. Heck all of the women hugged me as they got on the plane, and they've all done it at least once since we got here, thanking me for supposedly going out of my way for them. I kept telling them that it's my job, and a few extra hours now and then is something we're used to. But they just smiled, and said thanks, anyway."

"Yeah," Kathy smiled, "they've done the same thing to me. Heck, I'm so thrilled that things worked out the way they did, that I would have done it for free, just to get to fly."

"You'll get over that feeling," Bill laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I will, but I would never have gotten the chance if it weren't for you."

"Hey, kid, don't give me too much credit. I had an ulterior motive," he kidded, trying to raise his eyebrows up and down in a supposedly sinister expression.

"Hah," Kathy laughed. "I've never seen you even look at another woman."

"Well now, I look; I just don't touch. But seriously, my ulterior motive was to get a pilot that was trained the way I wanted, and who had the right attitude about the job, and about the company. Most young pilots get really tired of the amount of flying we have to do, and want to either be off with their families, or have some time to chase after the opposite sex. I can't blame them there, but I need someone that's willing to hang in there with me and get the job done."

Madison recrossed his legs and propped his arm on the back of the bench, turning more toward her. "Like Mr. Wainwright said, things will taper off soon, then we can take time off and enjoy life." Bill turned his glance away and seemed to stare at something on the ground, lost in thought for a moment, then he continued, "But we have to work when the work is there, and with this company, it tends to come in surges."

Kathy put her hand on his for a moment. "What's wrong Bill?"

"Wrong? Hey, nothing is wrong. I guess I'm still a little tired, is all," he said, slapping his hands on his thighs, then standing. "Why don't we walk down the driveway for a bit?"

"Okay," Kathy said, standing and following him.

"I want to see how far that slope drops off into the 'abyss' as Arlene calls it."

"Okay, but I don't know about looking into the abyss. I tend to be a little uptight about heights."

Bill stopped so quickly that Kathy almost stepped on his heels. "You, what?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kathy sighed. "A pilot that's afraid of heights. But it's different in a plane. There for awhile, I couldn't breathe when we started up that driveway yesterday morning."

Madison chuckled as they continued on, now walking side by side.

A little later they reached the second switchback, and Bill leaned against the rail looking down. "Wow," he exclaimed, "that thing seems to go on forever. Here, Kathy, you can see it better from here," he teased.

Kathy, still standing in the middle of the road, said, "Oh, I can see it just fine from here. Maybe, too well. Come on, let's walk the rest of the way down."

Madison stopped his teasing, realizing that she was serious about being afraid of heights, the edge of the road still bothering her despite the double steel rail that make a wall almost four feet high. Turning, he walked with her down the center of the drive.

They walked on for a while just chatting until Kathy finally said, "You taught me to fly, you helped me study for my tests, and you told me about idiosyncrasies for several of the people from the company. You stood up for me when one of the politicians complained on me... But now you're lying to me."

They stopped as Bill turned to her. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Bill Madison, something is wrong with you. For the last month, I've seen you, time and again, just sitting and staring. And there have been other things. Like what you just said back there on the bench."

"Kathy, I..."

"When you made that remark about things slacking off and enjoying life. What's wrong, Bill? Darnit, what are friends for if they can't help each other? I know that something is bothering you and..."

"My wife is fucking around on me," he bluntly said, turning and starting on down the drive.

Kathy stood for a second, then jogged to catch up. Grabbing his arm, she said, "Are you sure? I mean, we're gone all the time, well, at least for the last few months. How can you be sure? Maybe your wrong."

She wound down when she managed to stay with his long-legged-pace long enough to see that there were tears in his eyes. "Slow down, Bill. I can't walk that fast."

Madison, suddenly realizing that he was forcing her to almost run to stay with him, stopped. "I'm sorry, Kathy. I should never have said that. You have problems of your own. You don't need some old fart like me shedding his problems on you."

"'Old fart?' If I remember correctly from your last birthday, you're forty-four years old. I don't think that exactly qualifies for 'old fart.'"

"Well, it's too old to start over again."

Kathy pointed down the drive. "There's a big rock over there that looks just about right for a good seat. Why don't we sit down and you tell me about this? I'm a good listener, and if you're worried about me telling someone, then forget it. Number one, I don't have anyone to tell, and number two, I would never, anyway."

"Kathy, I'm not worried about your telling anyone. I know you better than that. Well, hell, it's just eating my guts out. I got married for life. I took my vows seriously, and I thought she had as well..."

They walked on down, stepped across the ditch on the inside of the drive, and sat down on the rock Kathy had pointed out.

They sat in silence for a while, then sighing, Madison said, "I guess you noticed how much more Linda rode with us this summer than she did last year." At Kathy's nod, he continued. "She usually has all kinds of plans for the summer, and well, after a while, I knew something was up, but I just couldn't figure out what.

"Well, I guess I mentioned it one time too many, and she started crying. After I got her settled down, she told me that her mother didn't love her any more, and was insisting that she go with me all the time. That was about a month into summer vacation and I had taken her to the mall one of the few times we were off. I knew she wasn't telling me everything, and I kept pushing her to tell me what was going on. Well she did..."

Madison cleared his throat, and when Kathy remained quiet, finally continued. "The gist of it was that she had become suspicious of her mother — had been for the last year — when she accidentally picked up the extension at the same time that Jill answered the phone. She said she almost hung up, but heard her mother say, 'Hi, sweetheart.' She listened to the whole conversation, some twenty minutes of it, where they were talking, very graphically, about what they were going to do to each other that night if Jill could 'get rid of the kid, ' so Jill could spend the night with him."

"Oh, crap," Kathy breathed. "That's some heavy stuff for a fifteen-year-old to hear her mother talking about." She squeezed his hand briefly as he continued.

"Yeah, and then Jill hit Linda with a less-than-subtle push to stay with one of her friends overnight, which she did. But Linda had this eating at her for a month before she broke down and told me about it. But that remark about getting rid of the kid was a mistake on Jill's part. My daughter went to Radio Shack and bought one of those phone recorders that activates when the phone is picked up. She has a half dozen tapes of the two of them talking."

"She did what?" Kathy said, laughing, leaning back briefly and clapping her hands.

"Well you know she's smart," Bill said, defensively.

"Oh, I know. I know. But a fifteen-year-old taping her mother talking to her boyfriend..." she finished, stifling a giggle.

Bill looked at Kathy for a moment then down at his feet. "That's not the worst of it. Linda's video camera has a motion setting. The camera comes on when it detects motion," he needlessly said. "The first night when she heard her mother talking about getting rid of the kid, Linda said she got to thinking. They had said something about doing it in 'his' bed. It dawned on her that the doctor was going to spend the night in my house and fuck her in my bed."

Looking back at Kathy, he grimaced. "Linda hid the camera on a shelf at the other end of the bedroom — we have a nice bedroom suite — zoomed the camera to show the bed, set it to come on with motion, then went to spend the night at her friend's house."

Kath cringed. "Bill, you don't have to tell me this. I know it's rough on you..."

Ignoring her remark, he continued, "Last Christmas, I bought her the most expensive digital video camera that I could find. The sound has a bit of an echo in it since the mike was at the other end of the room, but you can hear everything they said... along with everything else — and the picture is crystal clear. And she assures him that she'll get 'rid of the kid' any time he wants her to spend the night, or he wants to come to my house."

"Jill's reference about getting rid of Linda really pissed her off, I guess. Not that I blame Linda. It infuriates me that Jill would say that. I've listened to the tapes. Some of them are pretty bad. As best I can determine from the conversations, this has been going on for some time. He's a medical doctor, but get this, Jill is still planning to take me for everything she can when she leaves me."

"My gosh, Bill. What did you do?"

"Well, for the next day or so, I really don't remember much. I was devastated, to understate. Pretty much fucked up, would be a more accurate description. Then I got pissed. One of the corporate lawyers recommended this woman that's supposed to be the best divorce lawyer around. He attached a couple of adjectives to her name, but said that she would be my best bet to keep me from losing everything. She's been working with me to try and save as much as she can. My investments were going to be a surprise for Jill one day," he sighed.

"I've put a lot of my salary back into stock that Mr. Wainwright recommended, and some... other money that I came by. If we just couldn't get along, I wouldn't mind her having half of everything..." he stopped for a while as his voice caught. "But damnit, she's fucking a doctor. She doesn't have to fuck over me financially, as well."

"And you didn't suspect that something was going on?"

He changed his position on the rock, stretching his legs, "Oh, well. There has been less and less sex over the last year. And then about six months ago — well, I guess that was the last time. I thought it was just me being gone, to start with, that made her want to pick a fight all the time. But looking back, it seems obvious that it was her doctor friend doing what I couldn't do while I was gone. I guess, somewhere along the line, she fell in love with him. At least they say that they love each other on the tapes.

"I guess I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop, Kathy. My attorney has advised me about my finances. I've taken my name off the two credit cards we have, and since I pay them on line, and I've reduced the maximum allowed on each card, it going to be a little harder for her to hurt me. Chances are, Jill won't even notice.

"When the new cards came, I slipped them into her purse. The originals had her name on them, anyway. So there isn't any way to tell except the number. And knowing Jill, she hasn't got the foggiest notion what the account number is. Both our cars are paid for. Of course she drives a Mercedes and I drive a Chevy, but I never really cared. She drives a lot more than I do, and I was always pleased that she had a nice car. My stocks are all in my name, and I don't think she even knows about them. She never paid much attention to our finances as long as there was money in the checking account and she had a credit card that she could use.

Madison crossed his legs and looked toward the abyss. Quietly, he said, "I married this woman for life. I was flying off an aircraft carrier when we started out. She knew that I was going to remain a pilot if I could land a good job. She was tickled when I got this job at Wainwright. We had a lot of good times," he sighed. "She has a good job, and we made a lot of money in the last sixteen years. I still can't believe that she just threw all the good times away.

"She used to come with me every now and then, when she could get off from work. Hell, Frank let us use the plane on our vacations. He said that he wasn't going to let anyone else fly it, anyway. We've been to Canada, Alaska, Hawaii, plus a lot of places in the continental U.S., both just the three of us, and with Frank and the others when they went places. I thought she was happy."

Signing, he glanced at her, "I guess that old adage about the husband being the last to know sure fits me. I was fat, dumb and blind — not to mention, stupid. I never even thought to wonder about her until she cut me off completely, and even then, I had no way to check up on her with me flying all the time.

"And another thing that has gotten me worried is my daughter. In addition to the effect that this has had on her, there's something else looming on the horizon. Linda says she is absolutely sure that her mother doesn't want her going with her when she leaves me. And the tapes back this up. Jill says she is going to 'finally get rid of the kid' when she leaves with her doctor friend. Linda says that Jill has treated her like shit for the last year. She leaves all Linda's meals, clothes, and everything else up to Linda. Jill won't be bothered.

"It's hard to believe my wife is acting this way. She didn't really want to have children, and Linda came along despite the pill. She had her tubes tied when she had the baby. Didn't even mention it to me until it was done. I've always thought that Jill was a good mother, though, but apparently she is planning to start a new life, sans a child."

Unable to think of anything to say, Kathy blurted before she thought, "Well, this way, you should be able to get full custody..."

"Thank God for that," Frank said, sighing again, "but I can't leave a fifteen-year-old girl home for as much as we're gone. She's a responsible kid. Sometimes she literally amazes me with how adult she is. And before you ask, remember, I don't have any close relatives, and neither does Jill. I'm an orphan, and her parents were killed shortly after we got married."

Madison looked off into space, "I'm fucked. As soon as she divorces me, or moves out, I'll have to quit my job to take care of Linda. And Linda realizes this. That's another thing that has her upset. Shit, Kathy, I don't know what to do. And all I know is flying, and flying generally isn't a stay-at-home job, to say the least. Maybe I can get on with one of the schools as an instructor, but it isn't the same thing, not to mention the difference in money. Even if I could get on. I checked around, and no one is hiring."

He moved around, then crossed his legs at the ankle, obviously tense. "I've racked my brain about this until I'm coming up with insane ideas. I've even thought about home schooling her, or getting her into one of those schools on the net and keeping her with me when we fly. But even if Mr. Wainwright would okay it, sooner or later someone flying with us will decide that she shouldn't be there, and get in touch with DHR. No telling what they would say about it, but I bet it wouldn't be good."

Kathy reached over and put her hand on his. "Have you said anything to Mr. Wainwright about this?"

"Other than my lawyer, the detective, and Linda of course, you're the only one who knows."

"You need to tell him — everything. Just as soon as we get back to the convention center."

"Kathy, he's my boss. He doesn't want to hear about this..."

"Bullshit," she said as a gust of wind ruffled her hair. "A man who will not fly with anyone else, who just paid off all the bills of one of his very minor employees, will want to know. Not to say anything about him losing the only pilot he will fly with, if this goes down the way you expect. You need to tell him — now."

Bill sighed again, "Alright, maybe he does need to know, but I'll do it after he comes back to work. He's on vacation now, and he looks more rested than I've seen him in a long time. Heck, both of them do. No use..."

"Now, Bill," she said, staring eye to eye with him. "You said yourself that you didn't know when it was going to happen. Chances are that by the time Linda hears them talk about it on the phone, it will be too late, if they talk about it on the phone at all. Let's go. As soon as we can get Mr. Wainwright away from the others, you can tell him."

"Maybe you're right. I guess maybe I have been hiding my head in the sand, as they say. I know he can't do anything, but he deserves to know ahead of time that I'll have to quit when this comes down."

"Uh, Bill, I've heard him say he wouldn't fly with anyone else, but why? I mean," she quickly added, "you're a great pilot. Heck, you know that I think you're the best, particularly after all you have done for me, but..."

"Kathy, that's a private thing. If he wants to tell you, that's fine. But I don't intend to."

Kathy stood up and grabbed his hand. "First thing we need to do is find Mr. Wainwright. Then you two need to go someplace where you can talk for as long as you want without being disturbed. Come on, let's go."

Although they had walked only a third of the way down the driveway, they soon found out what altitude and climbing up a steep incline would do to someone not accustomed to living on a mountain. They were out of breath in a hundred yards.

"Gees, and Jeff runs at this altitude," Bill gasped leaning over, his hands on his knees, as Kathy stood gasping beside him.

"Melissa said it took them about a week to get accustomed to it," she answered taking a deep breath that didn't seem to do any good.

Another hundred yards and they met Arlene coming down the drive in the Escalade. She stopped and rolled down the window. "Mother finally let me drive down the driveway," she teased, just to see the look on Madison's face. "Need a lift?"

Bill knew that there wasn't a turnaround on the drive, which meant that Arlene would have to drive to the bottom before starting back up. Riding with a teenager on this drive? Any other time and I would say no way in hell, but I'm too fucking tired to care,  he thought.

"You bet we do," he said, walking around and holding the door for Kathy. "You bet we do."

Their timing was good. As they were getting out of the vehicle in the back, Jeff, Fred, Dave and Frank walked out of the garage after parking their four-wheelers. Jeff frowned as he saw Arlene get out of the Escalade. Before he could say anything, Arlene said, "Dad, the security monitor was showing the driveway and we saw Captain Madison and Kathy walking back up. They seemed to be having trouble, so Mom told me to go and get them."

Madison, having also seen the look cross Jeff's face, added, "I guess we forgot about getting acclimated to the altitude. Well, walking down the drive wasn't a problem."

Jeff grinned back at him. "We got a little light headed for the first week after we came out, whenever we did anything strenuous. Are you guys, okay?"

Kathy, still a little red-faced, answered, "I think so. We started back, and I suddenly realized that I was dizzy and didn't feel like I had any strength. I, at first, thought it was just me until I looked over at Bill."

Bill tried to laugh. "That driveway is awesome. Even more so walking. But when we turned around and started uphill, plus not being acclimated to the altitude, it really became awesome," he kidded.

"Come on, let's go get something to drink. You two will feel better after you sit for awhile. I didn't realize that you were walking down the driveway or I would have said something."

As they walked toward the house, Bill stepped beside Wainwright. "I need to have a talk with you when it's convenient."

Frank glanced at him. Seeing the serious look on the captain's face, Frank said, "In that case, let's stop by the kitchen and pick up a drink. We can go out on one of the decks, if that's okay with you."

When Madison acknowledged, they got soft drinks in the kitchen. When everyone else started for the living room, Frank told them that he and the captain needed to talk for a minute, and would be back shortly. As they started for the deck, Bill said, "Come on, Kathy. I want you to be a part of this, too."

Kathy stopped. "Are you sure, Bill? I mean..."

"I'm sure. Please, come with us."

Seated at a picnic table on one of the decks a little later, Bill told Frank everything he had told Kathy. Wainwright sat, started to drink from his empty bottle and frowned, putting the bottle back on the table. "What did your lawyer say about the video and the audio tapes?"

"She had me hire a detective, and had Linda turn the tapes over to him. He's to transcribe them, and keep them until further notice from the lawyer. She says that Linda's taping was illegal, but... the tapes of her mother's conversations with her lover are critical to show that the mother plans to abandon her daughter. Not fault for the divorce as that is irrelevant — we live in a no fault state — but child abandonment is a serious breach of duty in family court, according to my lawyer, and a great means of convincing a judge what is really going on. This means chain of evidence and evidentiary foundation issues concerning the tapes. I did everything the lawyer said, and Linda, of course, stopped taping."

"Good," Wainwright said. "Why didn't you hire a detective to check her out after she, uh, stopped sleeping with you?"

Bill sighed, turning his drink bottle round and round in his hands, then after a moment said, "I guess I really didn't want to know. It's one thing suspecting, no matter how plain the facts. But it's another thing to know. I guess it's called denial. Hell, when she first started picking fights with me, I tried everything. Spending more time with her, flowers, shopping trips, wooing her, anything I could think of. Nothing worked, and only seemed to aggravate her more. When she quit sleeping with me entirely, I knew. But I just didn't want to admit it. I guess I just hoped it would work out, somehow."

"What about this lawyer of yours? How good is she?" Wainwright asked, looking Bill hard in the eye.

"Grierson recommended her."

"All right, but let's get Grierson into this, too, if it's okay with you. I want him to check on the money side. She may be a sharp divorce lawyer, but Grierson knows money. If she is going to divorce you for some fucking doctor, we're not going to let her carry you to the cleaners. Changing the credit cards is good but you need to prepare..."

"The lawyer has everything ready to go, waiting on my signature, but I had rather Grierson look at my financial situation in case he has something else to add," Bill said.

"I don't want to rip her off, but I don't want to come home from a trip and find out that she's taken everything we've worked for and split, leaving me with nothing but bills. I know a guy that happened to. His wife charged up all the credit cards, took out others that he didn't know anything about, withdrew all the money she could on them, didn't pay the bills for a couple of months, keeping that money, as well. After court, he essentially wound up with more bills than they had ever had while they were married. She wound up with the house, all the money and a new car. They even repoed the car he was driving."

"All right. I'll get Grierson on the phone," Wainwright said, glancing at Kathy. "After I have a talk with him, I'll put you on the phone with him. From what you say is on the tapes, it looks like you're going to wind up like your friend, or would have if your daughter hadn't found out about this and told you."

"But Frank, what's really..."

"We'll work something out about your daughter," Wainwright interrupted. "I would say that she could just stay with us while you're gone, but the way it's been lately, Margaret and I have been gone almost as much as you have. But about her flying with you, the answer is hell yes. If that is what it takes, then it will happen. But that's no life for a kid, even for a few months.

"If worse comes to worse, she can fly some with you, stay some with us, and we'll find someone she can stay with the rest of the time. And yeah, I know that's not an answer, but whatever happens, we'll make a place for her. I am not going to lose my pilot. That isn't an option. We will find a way to make a good home for Linda while you're away."

"Frank, there are plenty of good pilots, and Kathy will be there..."

Frank stared at Bill. "You know why I not going to fly with anyone else. As I said, that isn't an option. Now, do you have any kind of feeling about when this is going to come down? Unless I miss my guess, we need to beat her to the punch. I'll tell Grierson that this is his number one priority."

-------

Jeff knew better than to ignore his new wife any longer. He figured that, at least in the minds of the women, he had already spent too much time with the men. He drank a Coke in the living room where everyone had gathered, except Fred, who had gone to his suite to work on an outline for security for the fort. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, but just to tease, he ignored Helen. He could tell that Margaret had wondered when he had walked in and sat down by himself. He wasn't far from Helen, but he hadn't acknowledged her.

Watching his new wife out of the corner of his eye, he was almost certain that she had figured out that he was messing with her. He got a glare from Diana that quickly changed to a smirk, changing again to a slight frown. She knew him too well and was trying to send a message. He ignored her too, joining in the conversation, and kidding with everyone, but still ignoring Helen.

By now, several of the others had obviously begun to wonder why he wasn't showing some affection to his bride. He let the tension build for a while, finished his drink and set the glass down. Standing, he casually walked the couple of steps to Helen, leaned over and threw her over his shoulder.

He glanced at Diana, seeing the sparkle in her eye. He winked at her and strolled out of the room with a sputtering Helen as laughter erupted behind them. He was reasonably certain that although his resident genius had figured he was messing with her when he ignored her, he would bet she hadn't expected this. She would never think that he would embarrass his sophisticated new wife like this in front of everyone.

Judging from the laughing comments — frustration — coming from over his shoulder, he was right. He swatted her nice tight ass, and kept walking. Sophisticated or not, he could smell her arousal before he got to their suite.

Soon the laughter and kidding died down; conversation resumed with a group of friends having a good time. Jeff walking out with Helen over his shoulder had aroused all his wives. Most tried to concentrate on what was going on in the living room to try to get their minds off Helen and Jeff.

Melissa looked at Jenny sitting beside her on one of the couches. "Screw this," she quickly said, her color high. "Let's..."

"Yeah," Jennie whispered, standing as Melissa did. They picked up a few of the empty glasses and casually walked out the door. They stopped by the kitchen, rinsed the glasses and put them in the sink, looked at each other grinning, and took off out the door fighting giggles.

When they got to the bedroom, Jeff had Helen's shorts and panties on the floor. His head was buried between her legs as she lay on the bed. She had her knees pulled up, her feet planted on the mattress and her pretty ass raised up to him as her orgasm came closer. The girls looked at each other and grinned. Soon their clothes were scattered about, and the two kissed for a second before crawling onto the bed on either side of Helen.

Helen tried to acknowledge them with a look and a smile, but Jeff locked his lips around her clit and attacked it with his tongue. Helen's eyes lost focus as her orgasm crashed through her, her body shivering.

Melissa and Jennie gently played with Helen's nipples through her top and bra while she came down from her peak, then helped her get the rest of her clothes off. They each lightly kissed her as Jeff resumed his duties from below. Melissa, looking over at Jennie for a moment, kissed Helen's eyelid trying to tell her that she loved her. Then worked her way to their teacher's ear. Jennie almost perfectly matched her actions on Helen's left.

In a little while, they had worked their way down to Helen's neck, where they noticed goose bumps appear in response to their kissing. Both girls grinned and continued. Having already kidded her about the hickey, Jennie just kissed it and went on. After a time, they worked their way toward her breasts.

Jeff inserted a finger very slowly into Helen's vagina (now totally healed) and crooked the tip in an almost come-here gesture, feeling for his new wife's g-spot, while continuing to very slowly lick from the bottom of her lips to the top. Helen raised her rear off the bed, trying to force her clit against his tongue as he kissed her pussy, but he refused to touch her there for the moment.

The girls reached Helen's breasts and kissed there, teasing around her nipples, but not touching them. Helen groaned and turned her upper body, trying to push a swollen nipple into Jennie mouth. Jennie relented a little and barely touched her tongue tip to the bud.

Helen growled in her throat, grabbed the back of Jennie's head and pushed her nipple against the teenager's mouth. Jennie suddenly sucked hard, once. Then changed to a gentle sucking with an occasion light touch with her tongue.

Melissa took the other nipple in her teeth and after putting a little extra pressure on for a second, gently stripped the nipple several times, then sucked hard. Helen now had a hand on the back of the girls' heads, occasionally stroking their hair as her breathing picked up.

Jeff altered between tapping her g-spot with the tip of his finger, and rubbing small circles, occasionally lightly touching her clit with his tongue tip.

Helen made a whining sound that gradually increased in volume. Jeff locked his lips around her clit and sucked, stroking it with his tongue. Melissa and Jennie, now totally involved, moaning themselves, sucked hard. Helen arched her back, the whining raising in volume until it became a scream as her body convulsed, then went rigid. Her legs, that had been locked around Jeff's head, opened, then her heals beat a tattoo on his back.

The scream losing volume, her legs splayed wide as they dropped back to the bed. She took a shuttering breath and went totally limp.

Jeff looked up, his face covered in Helen's juices, to see the sparkling eyes of the two girls. "I guess she liked that," they said in unison, then burst into quiet giggles as they glanced at the unconscious face of their sister-wife.

Jeff wiped his face on the spread as Melissa moved to the edge of the bed and got on all fours. "Mount me, Husband," she said, knowing that Jeff liked for them to say things like that.

Jeff, who hadn't undressed yet, quickly corrected that. Jennie sighed and touched her mound as his big cock popped out of his shorts. Winking at her, Jeff stepped behind Melissa. He wiped the head back and forth in her grove, collecting her moisture, then pushed against her opening.

"Do me, Husband," she hissed, pushing back, impatient to feel him inside her.

Jeff pushed the head past the hard resistance of her opening, then waited for her to become accustomed to his size, but she was having none of the waiting. She growled, wiggled her hips and tried to push herself onto him.

"Easy Baby, you're going to hurt yourself again.

"Bullshit. Push that thing in me. I'm so hot I'm about to die. Put it in me now." Whimpering, she added, "Please."

Jeff ignored her, knowing that he always had to go slowly until he was seated to their depth, or they would pay for it afterward, continued his slow in and out movement until he reached her cervix.

She rotated her pretty bottom, trying to hump against him. He took a firmer grip on her hips, putting a little more pressure on her cervix, then rapidly bumped it with the head of his cock. That did it. She sucked in a breath, squealed and came, her body bucking against him. She shivered and thrashed about, her beautiful, tight breasts jiggling and swaying on her chest, her hair falling onto her face as her pent-up orgasm continued on and on.

She collapsed, forcing Jeff to hold her rear to him. When the orgasm tapered off, he realized that she was quietly giggling, interspersed with a hiccup every now and then. After a bit, he pulled out, and she lay smiling as she pulled her hair away so she could see him, her head turned to the side.

He leaned over and gently kissed her for a little while. She smiled at him as he kissed the tip of her nose and said, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she answered with a sigh.

Turning to Jennie, who was just coming down from her last orgasm, he pushed her legs back, slid a pillow under her pretty ass and tasted her nectar. Obviously primed, she sucked in her breath, slammed her knees hard against his head as he licked across her clit. When she started trembling, he sucked hard on her bud, adding an occasional tongue swipe. That did it.

He knew she was screaming, could hear a little of it past her knees clamped to his ears, but startling him, she suddenly collapsed. Well crap. I didn't even get a chance to get started,  he thought, looking up at her slack face. I guess she really was primed, and my balls feel like they're about to burst. What's going on? These girls usually have a dozen orgasms before they pass out. Well Melissa isn't out, but she seems so relaxed I'm reluctant to stick my dick in her right now.

While he was still wondering about it, the door burst open and Arlene came in strewing clothes right and left. He rolled over onto his back, grinning at her. She knee-walked across the bed, then straddled him, one of her knees digging painfully into his side as she adjusted herself.

"I couldn't stand it any longer," she said, not being too specific about what "it" was.

He started to complain about her knee hitting his short ribs, but the thought evaporated as his eyes locked onto her swaying breasts, swollen tight with her milk.

Having guided his cock to her entrance, she wiggled onto him, then rose up and pushed down hard. He grabbed her hips. "Easy, Baby. Give it time. You're going to hurt yourself."

"I'm hot, Daddy. All your wives are. Fuck me. I need to cum, bad," she said, moving her hips back and forth as her pussy lubricated and gave way to his cock. A few squirming seconds later, his dick was firmly seated against her womb, and her back and forth movements quickly increased to a rapid rate, bringing on her first orgasm.

"Yes," she squealed as she clung to his arms and shivered. As soon as her coordination returned enough for her to move, she resumed, but now lifting up and down. He gently tugged on her swollen nipples, eliciting a groan from Arlene as milk sprayed onto his chest. Shortly, her second orgasm hit, followed quickly by several others.

Leaning forward, she offered her breasts, "Suck them, Husband. You haven't in a couple of days. Mother and I had to use the pump. As his lips tightened around her nipple and he sucked, her movements became erratic, sometimes causing the nipple to pop out of his mouth as she thrashed through another orgasm.

"Do me, Dad," she gasped as another orgasm built. "I'm almost to a really big one. Pump your cum into me."

Jeff had been waiting to hear her say that. Concentrating, he took control, stroking upward into her tight pussy as she massaged him with her muscles. "Here it comes, Baby," he gasped out as his prostate cramped and pumped, his balls tightening against his cock.

A couple of seconds later, Arlene opened her eyes wide and gasped. She frantically threw her ass back and forth, grinding the head of his spurting cock on her cervix. She took a deep breath, and Jeff knew what was going to happen. When the scream finally tapered off and she collapsed onto his chest, he wondered, again, if they heard her in the living room despite the distance and the soundproofing.

He rubbed her back and stroked her hair, feeling the aftershocks as her pussy occasionally clamped down on his dick. He could feel the cum that had been forced out of her overfilled pussy. They women seemed to like the feeling as cum dribbled out of their pussies and coated their thighs, but he wasn't exactly pleased with the effect as it poured onto his groin.

Helen rolled on her side and snuggled against him. "Husband," she said, then tried the word again, "Husband, I still find it difficult to believe that you married me when you have these beautiful girls..."

Jeff chuckled, then slid his arm under her to pull her close to him, squeezing her until she protested. "They are, indeed, beautiful, but so is their teacher," he chided.

The door swung open and Ann almost flew in. "They finally got something to do."

She stopped, looking at Arlene and Jeff's groins from her position behind Arlene. "Wow. Did you ever have some cum built up," she said, as she eyed the puddle on the bedspread and all over Jeff's groin; although, his cock was still pushed up Arlene.

It took her a little longer to get out of her clothes, but not much. Helen helped Jeff roll Arlene off and onto her back. Melissa had gotten a towel to go on the puddle, and a couple of washcloths to tuck between Arlene's legs. Jennie bathed his cock with a warm, wet cloth, using the opportunity to give his dick a good sucking as she prepared him for her sister-wife.

Ann kissed her to thank her, tasting her husband on Jennie's mouth. It took a little while longer for Ann to get him all the way up her, but she was just as enthusiastic as Arlene had been. Melissa straddled Jeff's face, facing Ann. As he attacked her pussy with vigor, Melissa gently pulled and twisted Ann's nipples, then pulled Ann to her and deep-kissed her.

Ann screamed into Melissa's mouth as an orgasm peaked. Collapsing against Melissa for a minute, she got her breath back and stroked herself on Jeff's cock, building toward another orgasm.

Jeff, tired of licking, sucked strongly on Melissa's clit. He had to hang onto her thighs to keep from losing her as she shivered and bucked.

Ann relinquished control as her orgasms continued to build, and Jeff stroked himself upward and into his young wife. He tried to time his orgasm to hers as she built to a big one. When his sperm sprayed into her, bathing her womb, she screamed, then slumped against Melissa, who wasn't in much better shape.

Helen and Jeff managed to get the girls stretched out on the bed on his other side. "What gives, Jennie? A few orgasms and you're out of it. Most of the time, you have many more."

"What gives?" Jennie laughed. "You fucked Helen half the night. We gave each other a ton of orgasms while you were doing it, but it isn't the same. Then you decide to carry Helen off like a cave man, and you expect us to sit in there and talk? Not likely."

"But we've got guests," he said, but it sounded lame even to his ears.

Well, Fred has gone to his suite, and the rest — well heck, they don't care.

Jeff got up to go pee and clean his groin again. As he came back into the bedroom, Laura and Diana came in. He could see their nipples through their tops, despite the bras they wore.

"I hope you've got some left, Husband," Laura said as she pulled her top over her head and Diana unhooked her bra for her, then returned the favor for her sister-wife. "You have two more pussies to fill. The last time you came, we both had to fight not to have an orgasm in front of the others in the living room. Evie dragged Dave out the door, and it wasn't long before Margaret had Frank by the hand leading him to his slaughter as well," she finished laughing.

Laura helped Diana with her bra, then they got rid of their shorts and the rest of their clothes. "Where do you want it first," Diana asked, then kissed Laura for a moment.

Laura grinned, "You sit on his face, and I'll take the other end. Then we'll swap. If we can't get him up, some of this young pussy around here can get him started again."

The girls giggled a little with that, but Helen said, "Yes, they are younger than you Diana, but you could still pass for their nineteen-year-old sister. And Laura, if the healer keeps going, you're going to look the same. I wouldn't guess you at more than twenty-five even now."

"Yeah, Mom, so you don't need any help," a recovered Arlene announced. "Not that any of us mind sucking on that great lollipop of his," she teased.

As Jeff lay back on the bed, Laura straddled him, maneuvering her pussy into position. Wiping the head of his dick in her moisture, she placed his cock and wiggled down him partway, then rose up and pushed down again several times until she frowned as she pushed her womb against the head.

Diana straddled his face and sat down. Jeff mumbled that he couldn't breathe, teasing her, but she just moved her pussy around on his mouth, unimpressed, and said, "Lick. I'm so hot I'm about to die."

Ten seconds later she was screaming and frantically wiggling her groin on his mouth as he sucked on her clit. Laura took longer but was almost as frantic as Diana.

Laura came once, pulling hard on her own nipples, stretching them out from her breasts, then settled down to moving her hips back and forth at an ever increasing pace. After a while, she raised up to the tip of Jeff's cock and dropped, slamming her womb against the head of his cock. Each time she descended, she grunted. It wasn't long until the grunts changed into whimpers. She slammed down once more, rotated her hips round and round, then back and forth, rubbing the head of his cock on her cervix. Her sudden scream startled all of them.

Jeff held Diana firmly against him, and slammed his hips upward into the squirming Laura, his cock spewing sperm laced semen into her womb. Laura slumped against Diana's back as the last of his spunk pumped into her. Gasping, she rolled off onto the bed as Ann moved aside to give her room.

Diana slid down and sucked Jeff's wilting cock, cleaning him with her mouth. She used a wet washcloth provided her by Jennie to clean his balls and groin. Ann gently played with his balls while Diana sucked his cock into her mouth, slowly teasing him into hardness.

"Fuck me from behind, Husband," she softly said in a sexy voice as she positioned herself at the edge of the bed. "Do me hard. I don't care if it hurts. Just fuck me like I'm your slut. Fuck me hard and cum in me as soon as you can. I want to feel your cum inside me. It's been too long since I've felt your seed inside me."

Jeff got off the bed and positioned himself behind her, looking at his gorgeous wife, who looked little older than when he married her when they were just kids. Wetting his cock with her juices, he eased the head inside."

"Ram it in, Jeff. Quit fucking around. I really need it."

Jeff reached down and grabbed both of her breasts with a firm grip, then slammed forward, his cock hitting her cervix hard enough to hurt him. He grunted and she wailed, her pussy clamping down so hard it hurt.

"Crap, Baby. How can you squeeze that hard?"

If she heard him, she didn't acknowledge, but instead tried to rotate her hips, rubbing her cervix on the head of his cock. Her pussy squeezed and released twice, then her muscles caused her pussy to flutter around his cock as her orgasm hit. She pulled forward a little, then rammed back as hard as she could.

Jeff squeezed her breasts, then milked them hard all the way down, pulling on her nipples as he did so. Her milk coated the bed and his fingers as he did it again, then pumped her rapidly with his cock.

She screamed as another orgasm hit. Gasping she mumbled, "Cum in me, please."

Jeff rapid fucked her, short hunches that hit solidly against her womb every time, trying to concentrate and cum as soon as he could. As he continued to pound her, she put her head down on the bed, dropping her belly and arching her ass high, offering her pussy for filling.

Finally, he reached the point of no return, his rhythm faltering as he gasped, "Here it comes, Woman."

As he jammed his cock in one last time and held, Diana's pussy clamped down like a vise. His dick swelled and pulsed repeatedly, Diana moaning as the feeling of warmth and the tickling splatter of his seed hitting her cervix heightened her orgasm. Her moans became a scream of joy that lasted until her breath ran out and the world went black. She lay slumped forward, her face turned to the side with a smile touching her lips.

Jeff gasped to get enough air, having had one of the best orgasms he had had in a while. He wondered if she had done damage to his cock when she had squeezed down that last time. Her pussy released his cock and he pulled out of her, not mindful of the gush of sperm that added to the amount already running down her legs. He straightened her out a little, then collapsed beside her.

I think she needs to back off some with keeping that little dildo in her so much. She said that squeezing it had become automatic, and she did it just about all the time. I couldn't even pull my dick out without hurting myself, and probably her. And from the feel of most of the others, they're all doing it now. Well, I guess I can't complain about having my dick, pussy-massaged, he thought, a smile on his face as sleep caught up with him, the smell of sex permeating the air.



-------

Chapter 25


Dave and Evie had both been aware of Jeff teasing Doctor Boswell while everyone was in the living room. Although Helen had continued to participate in the conversation and banter, it was obvious that Jeff's ignoring her was beginning to get to her. Before it reached the point of hurting his new bride's feelings; however, he had casually walked over to her, picked her up as if she weighed nothing, and slung her over his shoulder.

His attention to her had seemingly gone from nothing to the opposite in a matter of seconds. Now her problem was that she was the center of attention in a manner that she definitely didn't expect. Plus, it was blatantly obvious what Jeff was going to do to her — obvious in front of several people that she didn't know very well. Her bright red face was caused by more than the pressure on her stomach as she lay across Jeff's shoulder.

Her protestations fell on deaf ears as he had carried her into the hallway, and eventually their suite.

Evie and Dave glanced at each other as Jennie and Melissa picked up a few glasses and walked out of the living room, presumably cleaning up a little of the clutter, but the girls didn't come back.

A little later as the married couple got up to look through the music CD's, Evie whispered to Dave, "Want to put a little wager on whether or not the rest of Jeff's wives stay in here?"

"Hah," Dave said, "that wouldn't be a wager. That would be a sure thing if you were betting that they'll soon all be in their bedroom. The only reason they're still here is for appearance sake. Shall we cut them a little slack and say we're going to our apartment? We need to go visit our parents, anyway."

"Yeah, we could," Evie whispered back. "But let's just stay a little while and see how long they can hold out," she said, a smirk on her face. "Besides, before we go to visit anyone, you have some homework to do. And unless I miss my guess, you're fighting to keep an erection from happening right now."

Defensively, "Look, Babe, I can't help that. All the sex that's going on, well, it..."

"And all the beautiful pussy you see around you all the time and knowing that Jeff has three of them in his bed now, and is fucking one of those girl's, or Helen's brains out right this minute..."

Dave didn't like the way this conversation was going. "Now, Baby, I haven't done anything to get you jealous of me. I..."

"Hush, my love. I'm not mad at you. I'm just teasing. And besides, I'm staying horny all the time, too," she finished, the color rising in her face.

They sat on a couch in the corner of the room away from everyone else, pretending to be involved in the music, but mostly being amused by the obviously aroused wives. Dave had his arm, low down, behind Evie with his hand pushed up under her loose top, his fingertips caressed her side, with an occasional touch to the flare of her left breast.

His hand would wander away for a time, then slowly come back, each time going a little farther up the side of her breast. The slow pace and the obvious arousal of the women, were becoming maddening to Evie. She could see the outline of her husband's cock in his pants — not hard, but swollen.

When Margaret and Frank got up to go to their suite, Evie grabbed Dave's hand, and said, "Let's go."

Dave grinned at her as they walked slowly down the hall, delaying as much as he could. "If you don't come on, I swear that I'm going to yank your pants down to your ankles right here in the hallway," Evie threatened.

As they turned the corner off the main hallway, "And if you do, you're going to get it 'right here, '" Dave said, pushing her top above her breasts and expertly unhooking her front-catch bra.

Evie grabbed his hands, glancing behind them at the corner they had just turned. "Stop, Honey," she hissed. "Someone could come by and see us."

Dave chuckled, and she could see the lust in his eyes as he brushed her hand aside and gently tweaked her nipple. "Margaret and Frank have already gone by. No one else is in this section. All the Matthews are in their suite by now trying to fuck each other's brains out. No one is going to see us," he said, sliding his hand into her shorts, then pushing them downward.

Evie grabbed his hand and hissed, "Don't you do that. We've got a beautiful bed just down the hall. I'm not going to do it out here in the hallway. Eeeep," she finished as Dave went to his knees and snatched her shorts and panties to her ankles.

While she stood for a second in shock, he raised one of her legs and pulled the clothing past her foot, leaving her standing with her top pushed above her breasts and her shorts and panties hanging on one foot.

"Baby," she squeaked, grabbing his head as he ignored her and buried his face in her groin, finding already wet lips to meet his. Kneeling between her legs, he gently pushed them wider as he craned his neck to lick her a couple of times, before teasing her lips by gently pulling on them with his teeth. He slid farther under her in order to lean back and give his neck a better angle as he pushed his tongue between her nether lips, then back out to barely touch her with the tip as he outlined her furrow, avoiding her clit.

Realizing that she had been pushing her pussy into his face, she tried to pull back, putting a hand on top of his head. "Honey, we've got to stop this. I would just die if someone... I... uh..."

She sucked in a breath and lost her train of thought as Dave locked his lips around her clit and gently sucked. She hadn't even realized that she was close, but all the thoughts of sex in the living room, as well as being exposed in the hallway, had her aroused, to say the least. Before she knew it, her orgasm was upon her. She stiffened, then trembled as she unconsciously pulled his face hard against her sex.

As she crashed over, Dave drummed his tongue over her clit, then sucked hard. Evie put the back of her hand against her mouth in a momentary attempt at keeping quiet, but she forgot as the orgasm went higher.

A couple of minutes later, she realized that she was bent over a loveseat that was in a niche in the side of the hallway, and Dave was shoving his throbbing cock inside her. When he was seated, he reached under her to grab her breasts. After slowly sliding in and out to get her used to him, he picked up the pace, slamming into her hard enough that she had to brace her hands against the seat to keep her head from hitting the back of it.

He milked her breasts and stripped her nipples, his hands tightening as she built toward her orgasm. He pinched her nipples hard, then pulled them enough to almost hurt as he held hard inside her, pushing against her womb. Her orgasm crashed through her, then continued on into the next one as she felt his balls slapping against her clit as he resumed his pace, then speeded up. She felt his cock stiffening even more and swelling, his rhythm breaking, producing that feeling inside her that she loved when he neared his orgasm.

"Oh, Baby, do it now," she wailed. "Cum in me now. I, uhhh..."

Almost immediately, she felt his cock pulse and warmth spray inside her as he slammed in and held, his cock jerking. Evie lifted her ass as high as she could, her back arched, holding her pussy up for him to fill as her orgasm went on and on.

After a while, she realized that he was holding her up with one hand hooked under her belly, his other arm propped against the wall. His cock eventually slid out of her, and she felt a fresh gush of semen go down the inside of her legs, as Dave chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?" she gasped out, still trying to get her breath back after the force of her orgasms.

"Well," Dave said, his chuckles changing into a full laugh, "three things, I guess. I think there's more cum spilling out of your pussy than I've ever managed to put in there before; I just fucked my wife in the middle of my boss' hallway, and my dick is getting hard again, " he finished, leaning back against the wall, his pants still around his ankles.

They both watched as his dick finished swelling, then stood almost straight up. They looked at each other a moment, then Evie snatched her panties and shorts off the floor and sprinted for their apartment, her hand capped over her pussy, shrieking as Dave stumbled, then managed to get his clothes back up enough to take off after her, his dick pointing the way.

Their apartment door slammed, cutting off giggles and Dave saying something about sloppy seconds. They decided to wait until tomorrow to visit their parents.

-------

Later, Margaret and Evie were fixing burgers in the main kitchen as their men sat at the large table swapping lies. Ann and Melissa came in famished, bedraggled, their hair wet and sticking out at odd angles, both smiling from ear to ear.

"Don't you laugh at us," they said in unison, putting their hands on their hips and mock-glaring at Dave and Frank.

"It's not every day that we get a new wife, who is also our teacher," Melissa finished, stifling a laugh. "Besides, we just came for a snack to carry..."

"Go round them up," Margaret broke in. "We've got burgers and home fries for everyone. Poor Jeff is going to dry up and fly away if we don't get some nourishment into him," she teased, laughing with everyone else.

Ann, still laughing, picked up the phone, punched PA for the first floor, and using Diana's expressions, said, "Soup's on. Come and get it before we throw it out."

A few minutes later, as Jeff and his wives filed into the kitchen, Diana looked around and asked, "Where are Bill and Kathy?"

Fred, who had just walked in, shrugged. "I saw them in the living room several hours ago."

Margaret, who was at the other end of the kitchen, raised her voice to say, "They borrowed one of the cars and went to Winter Park. They said they were going to do a little sightseeing but would probably be back in time for dinner. I told them that they could borrow your Escalade, Jeff. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. Why would I mind? I should have suggested it. There's a lot to see in the area," Jeff answered, sitting down at the table.

As everyone was sitting down, "Uh oh," Evie said, looking at Helen's neck, grinning. "You gained two more."

Helen, who had purposely worn a scooped-neck blouse, blushed despite herself, but held her head up as if to display her hickeys with pride.

"The two smaller ones on either side of her neck... ," Melissa started.

"Are ours," Jennie finished. "We wanted to show everyone that we loved her, too."

"And also claimed her as our sister-wife." Melissa said.

Sitting on either side of Helen, they turned as one to kiss her cheeks.

Helen then turned her head toward Jennie and kissed her lightly on the lips as she whispered. "I love you."

Turning to Melissa she similarly kissed her and breathlessly whispered, "I love you, too, my sister-wife."

"I think that's sweet," Evie said, fighting unsuccessfully not to blush, feeling herself respond to the erotic picture that the two new hickeys brought to mind. Seeing them briefly kiss only enhanced the picture forming in her mind.

Dave saw his wife's response and wondered, but joined in the good-natured kidding as they teased the new bride. Jeff just grinned and winked at Helen.

After their late lunch, they sat around the table talking for a while. Evie and Dave excused themselves and left. A little later, after the women had cleaned up, everyone migrated toward the living room. As they opened the door to leave the kitchen, they heard music coming from the living room.

Hearing music in the house wasn't unusual by any means, but this had the unmistakable sound of live piano and a guitar. But as Jeff increased his pace in anticipation and neared the living room door, he noticed that the guitar had a chime to it — a ring that was hauntingly familiar. As he stepped through the door, he saw the beautiful twelve-string guitar that Dave was playing, and knew why the sound was so full.

Evie was seated at the piano, and it became obvious in only moments that this was not their first time to play together. Jeff caught Diana's eye for an instant — a silent agreement that the two were good — really good.

Melissa and Jennie looked at each other, and went to sit at Dave's feet. He was sitting in a straight-backed chair beside the piano, as close to Evie as the piano bench would let him. The piano had been turned so that Evie could look to her left and see her audience, and Dave was sitting with his back to the piano, where he could talk to Evie and see the rest of the room at the same time.

Everybody pushed their favorite chair closer and sat down.

The two played three instrumentals, transcending from one to the other without a pause. Then Evie played a classical piece that Jeff didn't recognize, but erased all doubt — if there was any — of any possible amateur status.

When she finished, Dave joked that his knowledge of classical consisted of being able to spell the word. He looked around at their impromptu audience and grinned. "I once read a story written by a famous guitarist, who said that in his youth, he was hitching a ride in one of the western states, back when he was 'finding' himself. He said he was sitting on his guitar case at the intersection of two dusty roads in the middle of nowhere, with nothing in sight but cattle and corn fields.

"After a while, this beat-up pickup truck pulled up and a guy leaned out of the window, pointed to his guitar, and asked if he could play that thing. When he said he could, the guy pushed his hat back on his head a bit, spit a stream of tobacco juice and asked if he could play Under the Double Eagle. When he said he didn't know it, the rancher laughed as said, 'Ah, you can't play that geetar, Boy, iffin you can't play that.' And drove off,  leaving him sitting there."

Laughing, Dave hit the first cords of his version of the song, and a few minutes later, finished to a quiet that lasted seconds before anyone stirred. Jeff, almost unbelieving, realized that he, beyond a doubt, had just listed to someone who could play a guitar better than anyone he had ever heard — professional or not, and the beautiful, clear, chiming tones of the twelve-string had just stirred him more than any music had in a long time — well, never.

Without anything being said, Evie and Dave played and sang two songs together. As they finished, Frank remarked, a grin on his face, "I do believe they have done this before."

When everyone laughed, Evie slowly turned around on the seat until she was fully facing everyone. She touched her husband's shoulder and said, "Yeah, we have — a time or two," as she and Dave looked at each other and grinned. Turning back to her audience, she continued. "When I had just turned sixteen, I played piano for our church. Oh, it wasn't a big church. There would be between a hundred and two hundred people there for Sunday service, and lesser amounts for Sunday night, or Wednesday night.

"On Wednesday night, we had what we called fellowship meeting. After the meeting, the youth of the church were invited to hang out and sing songs in the basement, and we could sing secular music there. Well... as long as it was reasonable.

"Dave had been coming to church and had talked to me every now and then, but he was twenty-one and I was sixteen. A definite no-no as far as my dad was concerned. So when he asked me out, I told him I had just started dating, but my dad would only let me double-date, and even then, only with boys my own age."

She paused to smile at her husband. "Then Dave brought his guitar to our little get-together in the basement, and we found out that he could play anything he had ever heard. If he hadn't heard it, you could sing a few bars of anything, and he would pick it right up and go with it. And it sounded good. Really good.

"Oh, he had taken music, but he usually plays by ear. With music, he has an almost photographic memory. While I'm learning to do a piece, he can 'look the music over' a little, and generally know it. But he prefers to play by ear."

Fighting not to laugh, she continued, "One Saturday morning, he knocked on my door. When my father answered it, Dave told him he had come to play with me — double entendre and all. My father glared at him for a minute, but Dave just stood there holding a guitar in each hand — a twelve-string and a six-string. Dad had heard him play in the basement at church, but he still didn't want a twenty-one-year-old man around his little girl.

"Finally, my dad said, 'For a little while.' He called me, and Dave and I grinned at each other as Dad stomped off to do something in the back. Dave ate lunch with us, and Mom, much to Dad's disgruntlement, invited Dave to stay for dinner, also.

"The next Saturday," she continued, turning a little more so she could put her hand on his shoulder for a second, "he was there again. Dad grumped, but before lunchtime, he and Mom were singing along with us. Dave continued to come over. This went on for months, and shortly, included Sunday afternoons. One Saturday afternoon, Dad walked in and tossed Dave his (Dad's) car keys, and said, "Why don't you two go somewhere? You're getting on my nerves," sounding as grouchy as he could, but barely stifling a grin. Dave had ridden his motorcycle that day and Dad had long since forbidden me to get on one. So we went on our first 'date' in my Dad's car."

Dave broke in, "Just as we started out the door, he grabbed me by the collar and whispered in my ear, 'You had better not get my daughter pregnant, ' then smiled — more like baring his teeth — and pushed me on out the door."

Evie's face showed her astonishment. "You never told me that. He didn't say that."

""Oh, yes he did. Why do you think our first stop was the drug store?" Dave teased.

"It was not," she argued, blushing furiously. "We went to the Spinning Wheel and had shakes sitting at an outside table under a tree, and you know it," she said, flustered.

Everybody laughed as Dave teased her.

"Did he really say that? I can't imagine my father..."

"Yep, he sure did," Dave answered laughing at her discomfiture.

"Wait until I see him," Evie said, laughing, but still looking suspiciously at her husband. Shrugging, she continued, "Actually, Dave was a perfect gentleman, and before we went out again, my mom gave me a talk that was quite similar. But suddenly, they were letting us date. Instead of going to the movies, or other places that couples our age went to, we started going to an old time music festival that they held on Saturday nights way out in the country. It was in a gigantic, old barn that they had fixed up. Under their name on the sign, in letters almost as big as the name, was: 'No Liquor on the Premises.' We still go there occasionally."

"Have you two ever played professionally?" Margaret asked, leaning forward a little. "Without trying to flatter you, and I know you must get a lot of it, but Frank and I have been talking. You two are exceptionally good — professionally good."

"Thank you. Oh, we've played a few bars. More or less, just to see what it was like, but other than that, we haven't," Evie answered, smiling. "We've never wanted to go in that direction with our lives."

Dave stood up. "I'll be back in a minute. Jeff could you come help me, please?" Dave left the room with Jeff following.

At the inquisitive looks, Evie said, "Just hang on. We've got a surprise when they get back." With that, she spun back around and began playing a jazz tune.

A few minutes later, Dave and Jeff came back in carrying two boxes of — songbooks.

Diana glanced in a box, then leaning over, pulled out a book. "Campfire songs. Jeff, we haven't done this in ages."

That got the girls started, and they swarmed the boxes, exclaiming and giggling like it was Christmas.

A couple of hours later, everyone was just about certain that Evie and Dave could play any song in any of the books in either of the boxes. They eventually broke for dinner, which consisted of hotdogs and the trimmings. When Dave started to gather up the books, the girls mobbed him.

Laughing, Jeff added his thoughts, "Unless you two are tired and can't go on, or you really don't want to, please don't stop now. I think this is the most fun we've had in a while."

Dave and Evie looked at each other and grinned. "No, we're not tired. We often play for hours at the music festival. We haven't gone much lately, and we've missed it. And we're having fun, too," Evie smiled. "Let me help the ladies with the hot dogs and we'll..."

Ann and Melissa came in laughing with each other and pushing a huge serving cart. "Picnic," Melissa laughed. "An indoor picnic."

Bill and Kathy walked in right behind her and looked around. "What's going on?" Kathy asked, smiling, looking at the guitar and the songbooks scattered about.

"Just in time for a hotdog," Laura said, smiling at them. "We've been having a ball singing and listening to Dave and Evie play, and just talking — having fun. We haven't managed to think of anything that they haven't been able to play, yet. They've played everything from soft rock, jazz, and old country, to classical. And they're beyond good. We've been singing and having fun for hours."

Madison looked at Kathy, "I used to sing a little in a quartet. This sounds like fun."

Evie handed Dave a plate with two hot dogs with everything, and a pile of chips. He smiled his thanks, took a bite, then had to set the plate down to get a napkin to stop the drool. Laughing, he turned to Bill. "There are four men here. We've got a quartet."

Jeff overheard him and said, "Hah. You've got three. I couldn't carry a tune in that proverbial bucket."

"That's not true, guys," Diana said. "Our Jeff is a little shy when it comes to singing, but he has been doing just fine all afternoon, and he used to sing in church."

"Yeah, but Baby, that was just singing with the congregation."

"Like I said, he's bashful when it comes to singing. He has a beautiful baritone voice."

"How about it Fred? You up for it?" Dave asked as he handed Fred a heaping plate that Ann had fixed.

Fred hesitated, then smiled. "I used to sing a little in church. But don't expect much."

"Great. How about you, Frank? Gonna help us out?"

Wainwright laughed. "Damn straight, I will," he laughed, but Margaret broke off his laugh with an elbow in his short ribs.

"What was that for?" he asked, as everyone laughed.

"Leave the southernisms to Jeff. You don't have the inflection right."

"What southernisms?" Jeff asked. "I don't use southernisms..."

Everybody had a good chuckle over that.

"And you, Bill?"

"My quartet days were long ago. All the singing I've done in years was in the cockpit to keep myself awake, but I'm game if everybody else is."

"Okay, that's everybody then," Dave mumbled, then swallowed so he could go on, "As soon as we're through eating, we'll go somewhere and practice a couple of songs, then come back and sing for the women."

That drew moans from all the guys, but Dave wouldn't be dissuaded. He just kept saying "No, no. We'll do fine, and it's all in fun, anyway. If we screw up, I'll just play louder — or they'll laugh louder," he finished, grinning.

After they ate, Dave gathered up some sheet music, picked up his guitar, and hustled the men off to one of the conference rooms to practice while the women gathered around the piano and sang.

When the quartet made their presentation, other than a bobble or two, it wasn't bad. Bad or not, they got a standing ovation from the women, which embarrassed Jeff, Fred and Frank worse than the singing had.

Melissa and Jennie grabbed Jeff as he was going past after singing. They whispered in his ear, and he said aloud, "Well, why don't you ask him?"

When they just stared at him, he laughed, "My wives have suddenly become bashful around you, Dave. They want to know if you will let them get their guitars and play with you?"

"Yes. You bet," Dave exclaimed. "Why haven't you brought them out hours ago?"

"You play so much better than we do," Melissa said.

"... and we didn't want to intrude," Jennie finished.

Dave laughed at them and told them to hurry and bring their guitars.

When the girls had returned, gotten chairs and tuned up, Dave asked, "Have you ever played with a band or anything like that?"

Melissa looked at Jennie and grinned. "Well, we did for a little while. Just a neighborhood band, but... all the guys wanted to do was to turn their amps up all the way and see who could make the weirdest sound with their guitars. We were getting complaints from the next block. Plus, they couldn't seem to keep their hands on their instruments. We just got disgusted and quit."

Evie spoke up, "Pick out some music, or just start something and Dave and I will back you up." A couple of songs later, Dave looked at Evie and winked with a slight nod. The girls were a lot better than they had expected. After they got over being nervous, and settled down to enjoying themselves, they had a good time.

Jeff leaned back in his recliner to listen to his family and friends as they sang and the women clapped counterbeat to the music. Damn, do women come into this world knowing how to do that? he mused, leaning back in the recliner and taking a sip of coke, content. His newest wife came over, curled up on his chest, and was soon asleep. He gently kissed her forehead and snuggled her tighter.

-------

The songfest broke up a little after eight. While Frank and Fred were helping Davie and Evie carry their things back to their apartment, Madison and Jeff helped straighten up the living room. As the women were cleaning up the kitchen and washing the few dishes from their impromptu picnic, Madison poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Shall I make it two?" he asked, nodding at his cup.

"Yeah, sure," Jeff laughed. "It's probably my tenth for the day."

Bill handed Jeff the cup and poured himself another one. "This is some of the best coffee I've ever tasted. What kind is it?"

"We get it at Sam's Wholesale. It's called Marques De Paiva. Their gourmet breakfast blend. We used to be able to get it in five pound bags, but now we can only find it in two-and-a-half pound bags. It's whole bean, and we grind a bag at a time in the kitchen. But they have a grinder at the store, if you want to grind it there. It isn't much more expensive than the popular brands that you find at the grocery store, but we like the mild taste."

Madison took another sip. "I think I'm going to stock some for the plane, as well as some for home."

Jeff leaned back in the recliner. "Part of what makes it taste so good is the water here, and the filtering system. I found the paperwork where Frank had the wells tested. Even though the water is certified for human consumption, he installed two filtration systems before the water even reaches the center, then there are filters on each of the sinks in our kitchen and the apartments. The water is a lot purer than what you get out of the tap in most cities. And that's before it goes through all the filters."

Jeff could tell that something was on Madison's mind. "Do you have a problem, Bill?"

"Oh, no," Madison laughed. "I was just thinking. Kathy said something about wanting to see the Rocky Mountain Nation Park while we were here. I've been there once, many years ago when my wife and I were first married, but I haven't been back since."

"Didn't Frank say you were off until Monday? Why don't you take one of my cars and go tomorrow morning?"

"Well, we already used your Escalade today. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"We have plenty of vehicles here. I don't anticipate going anywhere tomorrow, but if we need to, there won't be a problem. There's a credit card in the glove compartment that we use for gas purchases. From what I hear, you need to make sure your tank in full before you get to the park."

"Jeff, no way am I going to use your credit card..."

"Okay," Jeff laughed. "But you know where it is and you're welcome to use it."

Bill called Kathy over and told her that Jeff would let them use the Escalade tomorrow if she still wanted to go to the park.

"You bet I do," she said, a smile on her face. "I've never gotten a chance to go, and I would love to see it," she finished, eyeing the coffee but deciding against another cup.

"Okay, it's settled then. We'll leave early in the morning, if that's okay with you, Kathy."

Jeff left the two discussing their trip, and went over to Fred, thinking he had been neglecting his old friend. Fred was sitting on a couch, and Jeff pulled up a chair. "We're going to start back on our firearms training in the morning. Want to shoot with us?"

Fred thought for a minute. Then seemed to shake himself mentally. "Logically, I know I need to keep busy, after... what's happened. But I..." he hesitated, then seeming to come to a decision, and continued, "Brenda would never want me to sit around and mope. But damn it's hard," he said, obviously fighting his emotions. Then after a moment, he said, "Yeah, I think I would like that. That is if I won't be in the way."

Jeff chuckled, "'Be in the way?' Now how in the heck could you be in the way with the way you shoot? The only problem is that things will be too slow and boring for you. But the women are catching on fast. Faster than I expected, even. You and I might be able to get in a little plate shooting while they're taking a break. We'll have a ball."

Fred caught Jeff's eye. "Thanks for bringing me out here. I really didn't need to be alone, I guess. Your family — your wives — have gone out of their way to include me in everything. There always seems to be someone with me, talking to me and doing things with me — especially the girls. I've told more 'war stories' since I've been out here than I have in years. I know they're deliberately not letting me be alone much, and their good mood has helped a lot."

Taking time out to gingerly sip the hot coffee, he continued. "When I first realized that you and the girls were, well... But after I got out here and saw the way you treated each other, it, somehow, seemed natural. Ah, I guess that's the wrong word. But there just seems to be a bond between all of you that I haven't seen before — like you said at the wedding. I don't know how you do it, but there is more harmony here than I've ever seen in a household. It just feels — right."

Putting his coffee on the table beside him, he crossed his legs. "I was sitting in my suite working on an outline for security for your fortress when there was a knock on the door. Arlene was standing there with her hands on her hips demanding to know why I was all alone, and not out having fun. When I tried to tell her that I was working on my outline, she grabbed me by the hand and dragged me out, and the next thing I knew, I was in the game room playing video games like a teenager, with the teenagers. But you know something? I was having fun. The girls acted like they wanted me to be there with them. And damned if I didn't start to believe them."

Jeff sighed, and thought for a moment before, "Sometimes, I can't really believe it myself. Oh, I can logically go back over every step of the process of these women becoming my wives, but... I wouldn't change any part of it for the world. Except maybe what started it off... But if that had not happened, then probably none of this would have happened, either. I know that sounds like convoluted logic, but I guess what I'm trying to say is, that I appreciate your not judging us too harshly. I love these women, and they love me."

There was quiet for a moment, then, "You're worried shitless about that SOB hurting one of your... wives, aren't you?" When Jeff nodded, Fred continued, "You know, of course, that cops are threatened all the time, and most of it is just bullshit. But then a cop is killed for revenge every so often. According to Diana, you kicked his ass pretty good, not to say anything about his son..."

Jeff looked hard at his friend. "Fred, that sergeant impressed me. He thinks this guy is going to come after my family and me. He has a history of it. The cops haven't been able to find him, and yeah, I know they probably haven't spent much time on it, since it is just a threat, but... well, I can't say anything other than he has been searched for by professionals, and they have drawn a blank, too.

"We're constantly trying to look out for him when we're out. We buy our groceries at different stores, at different times of the week. We try to vary our routes as much as we can, but there are only a couple of ways out of the area, and only one way down the mountain, of course.

"You know what would happen if he ambushed us with a 12 gauge shotgun with double ought buck, even a semiautomatic rifle with a thirty round magazine, like an SKS. He could riddle our vehicle before we could do anything. I can't hire a herd of off-duty cops, for obvious reasons, and if I put a man down at the end of the driveway, I might just as well sign his death warrant. Hagewood could just drive up and shoot him.

"Also, we're at his mercy, time-wise. He can wait a year if he wants to. We can't stay on high alert forever. Sooner or later we'll let down our guard at the wrong time. And if I go looking for him, he could be watching the county road and see me pass, then come after the women while I'm gone."

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, then Fred asked, "What time are you going to start the training in the morning?"

"We usually eat at six, since Dave and Evie get started early, but since tomorrow is Sunday, say about seven for breakfast."

Fred stood up. "I'll see you in the morning then," he said walking by and putting his hand momentarily on Jeff's shoulder.

Jeff sighed and went looking for his wives.

-------

Jeff unwound from his wives at four. The healer beeped at him from her shelf in the closet as he went to the bathroom. When he finished, he put her on his back, where she quickly flowed across his shoulders. After putting on his running clothes, and securing his pistol into the inside holster in the center of his back, he stopped by the kitchen to get a drink of water and check the outside temperature. Wow, the temperature really dropped last night. Thirty degrees this morning. He slipped on a light jacket, reset the alarm and went out the back.

The stars were bright points of light in the clear, high mountain air. He felt the healer's mental tickle, and could almost swear that she had said good morning. Well, the feeling was there, even if the words were not. He jogged down the driveway to warm up his muscles, then decided to explore the county road to the right, instead of his usual turn to the left, which led down the mountain.

He had ridden out this way one day just after they had moved to the conference center, but this would be a little change of scenery for his run. The road only went for a couple of miles, where it dead-ended into a defunct ski lodge that had been partially destroyed by an avalanche, according to Sperman. The land between Jeff's place and the lodge was mostly plunging ravines of hundreds of feet, and razorback ridges. He supposed that mountain climbers could make it through there, but he couldn't imagine anything, or anyone else doing it.

He felt great this morning and his energy caused him to push his pace. A little later, he turned into the driveway of the lodge. Though it was still dark, other than the starlight, he had no trouble negotiating the winding drive. Slowing down, he eventually walked into the parking lot, then walked about halfway around the lodge to the right, until he came to the destruction from the avalanche. Two good-sized trees had been pushed through the north end of the long building, plus a giant mound of dirt and debris.

He climbed partway up the mound to try and get a look at the slope above the lodge, but all he could see in the starlight was destruction, with several boulders perched precariously, seemingly ready to continue on down and add to the chaos at the lodge.

Sperman had said that the ski slope had received a lot of damage, in addition to the lodge. According to him, the company had just left the place, either going out of business, or he supposed, bankrupting.

The office was situated on the far left of the building. Jeff walked back through the parking lot, passing the office and circling the building from the other direction. Half the place seemed in perfect order — the other half was just... gone, replaced by rubble from up the mountain. From his trip in the vehicle in the daytime, he had noticed that the property beyond the ski resort quickly returned to chasms and rugged terrain, again.

I wonder who owns this, and if they'll sell. I would hate for them to restore the lodge. That would mean a lot of traffic coming up here, and I would no longer be the last house on the county road. I guess I need to get our lawyer to check it out. The less traffic, the easier to sort out the vehicles. Now, if we see someone drive on by, we know they're either lost, sightseeing, or up to no good.

He walked back to the end where the office and reception area were, cupped his hands against the wide glass doors and tried to see inside. He got only vague outlines in the darkness, although there was plenty of glass on this back side as well as the front.

I wish I could see just a little better. It would be interesting to know if they took everything out...  He suddenly realized the inside had appeared to lighten noticeably, then again as he stood transfixed. The inside now looked like late afternoon instead of total darkness. He could distinctly see elegant furniture, with an equally elegant reception desk taking up a portion of one end of the large room. A computer was still on the counter.

There was no color, but even as he thought of it, that was corrected — well, somewhat. The colors were wrong, too intense, like a false color computer map of the United States.

Smiling, he thought, trying to make his mind project his words into concepts. Are you doing this, Little One? He didn't get an answer per se, but he caught a hint of amusement from her.

He turned to leave, and the much brighter world outside the almost totally dark office/reception area seemed to slam into his senses. He stumbled and quickly closed his eyes from the garish colors and brightness. When he opened them again, he was back into the pre dawn darkness with only the stars shedding their light. Knowing he was still seeing far better than he once could have, and had been for weeks, Thanks, Little One,  he thought to her as he walked back around the building into the parking lot.

He tried to ask the healer if his enhanced vision when he had been looking into the building was his eyes, or her senses, but he got no response. Shrugging mentally, he jogged out of the parking area onto the county road, then pushed his pace, heading back down the mountain. By the time he had reached his driveway, he could feel FFA beginning to kick in. His mind became clearer, and reached that state that distance runners call free association.

Knowing that he could usually communicate almost as well with the healer in the free association state as he could while in his "trance" that she put him in to "talk" with him, he tried again. If she answered though, he didn't notice as the rhythm became totally automatic and his mind drifted to the healing chamber on the ship.

He had dreamed — at the time, he had thought of it as dreaming — as he lay near death in the chamber. Now, the memory came back with crystalline clarity. Time slipped away as, in his mind's eye, he saw many ships of different sizes and shapes in what had to be deep space. The heavens wheeled about him, so clear that it seemed there was nothing between his body and the vacuum. Ships spun, occasional lances of fire spurting from them as they were hit with something.

Some of the ships occasionally exploded, a super blue-white ball of light that quickly dissipated. He came to realize that he was on a ship that was desperately fighting for survival, and there were many of the other ships that seemed to be trying to destroy it and others like it.

Again the stars spiraled by at a nauseating speed, with one of the stars growing at an enormous rate. Within seconds, the star was all that he could see, it's nuclear furnace sending spurts of light and energy past their ship. The heavens began to shake and the colors and brightness grew into such intensity that even the ship's sensors could not dampen them enough.

The shaking continued until it became so intense that the stars became streaks, then a hole appeared in front of them. Every color he had ever seen, and more without number assailed his vision for a second — then the blackness of space returned with a scattering of faint stars that didn't move. Now that they were away from the battle, he could sense other things. Loneliness, fear, revulsion of a species that would kill on sight. A few surviving ships had made it back. Now they must rebuilt and carry the fight back to the race that would exterminate every intelligent being that they came in contact with.

He knew with certainty that all these feelings were coming from the beings aboard the ship, and... from the ship herself — a vast mind that swamped his with the sorrow of the loss of her sister ships, and the agony she had felt with them as they died.

Jeff stumbled, barely catching himself with his hands, before he scraped his knees on the pavement, skinning the heel of his right hand deeply before he could right himself. He flicked his hand to sling the droplets of blood off that oozed out of the cuts. He stood up, tightening his hand into a fist to staunch the flow of blood, then bringing his rhythm back up as he continued on, unsure of where he was on his route.

A couple of minutes more, and he noticed an old tree that had been struck my lightening, realizing that he was several miles past his seven-mile mark where he usually turned around. Slowing to a jog, he turned and headed back, then brought his pace back up.

He tried to talk with the healer, but received no response, other than her presence. He looked at his hand, and realized that the deep scratches were already well on their way to being healed. He had relived part of his "dream" while in the healing chamber. More correctly, he thought, the healer had shown him the memory — a memory that he had tried to forget because of the tremendous emotions that went with it.

Later, deep in thought, he was halfway up the driveway before he noticed. Slowing to a jog for a little while, he eventually walked the rest of the way to the house, chill bumps prominent on his arms, but it wasn't the cold that made them.

As he entered the kitchen, his thoughts still deeply centered on that battle among the stars, Helen stood up with a hissed intake of breath. Jeff stood in front of her, but his thoughts were obviously somewhere else.

"Jeff — Jeff — Jeff!" she called, chill bumps now on her arms as well, and a deep frown on her face.

Shaken when he realized she was upset, he said, "What's wrong?"

"'What's wrong?' Please,  don't ever do that again."

He stepped to her and hugged her tight, then brought his lips softly against hers. After the kiss, he pulled her head against his chest. "I'm sorry, Little Teacher. I didn't mean to do that. I just had something on my mind, and got carried away."

She pulled back a little, looking up at him, and completely out of character said, "No shit, Sherlock. And I do not want to feel that again."

"I guess I don't either."

Helen looked at him a moment, then went to get his coffee. "What were you thinking?" she asked as she took down a cup and poured his coffee.

Jeff sighed, and Helen looked at him. "No wonder Diana gets so aggravated at you, and I guess, really at the government. How can you not talk about whatever that was? If I felt even a hundredth what you were feeling... well, I can not imagine what you were feeling."

She set his coffee in front of him, then paused. "I can't believe I just said that. When I first came up here, I would have thought someone needed psychiatric care if they said the things I have just said."

"So you're saying, that you're just as screwy as the rest of us, huh?" Jeff said, trying to lighten things up.

Helen refilled her cup, set the pot on the table, and as Jeff sat down, plopped down in his lap. "Well that word has other connotations, also."

"Oh, so someone is horny this morning?" Jeff said, reaching a hand between her shorts-clad legs.

"No, don't you dare. I'm still so sore that I stung down there when I got in the pool this morning. Really Jeff, I know that most men claim that they want a bigger... well equipment. But I am just not built to..."

Jeff laughed and gently massaged her breast, then after a moment, teased her swollen nipples. "You weren't complaining when you were kicking you legs and clamping them around my hips. And I didn't hear you admonishing Jennie and Melissa."

Helen's face turned a deeper red, "Well, I..." she said, then kissed him hard, before getting up and resuming her place, chuckling to herself.

Margaret and Frank came in, their arms around each other, followed shortly by Evie, who had obviously been goosed by her husband, judging by the squeal and her jumping just as she came through the open door. Evie spun around holding her backside, "Quit that. It's becoming a habit."

Dave reached under her arms, picked her up and set her to the side, mock-ignoring her. As he walked by, she flipped his butt with the back of her hand. "Ouch," she said, instead of him, jerking her hand back. "I hit a seam on your jeans."

Dave grabbed her and kissed her — hard, causing her to sputter and blush. Laughing, they greeted everyone, then went to get cups for their coffee.

Jeff's wives filed in, greeted everyone, then took turns kissing Jeff and saying good morning. The production line began as the Matthews' household dropped into gear.



-------

Chapter 26


Madison and Kathy met in the hallway outside their rooms at 5:00 A.M. "You look sharp, Kathy," Bill said as he eyed his copilot. "Ready to go see the mooses or meeses, or whatever they're called?" he teased.

"I think the plural is moose. But I once heard an English instructor argue that it had to be meese. But saying something like, "there's a herd of meese, reminds me of a flock of geese. But I like your version better," Kathy laughed, feeling relaxed, refreshed and in a great mood. After all, I'm going to be with the man I love today, again, and we don't have to fly a plane or be with other people. Of course, I can't kiss him, or do anything else I want to with him because he's married, but... 

Looking down at herself, she said, "Shorts — not new — a blouse I've had for years, and sneakers, but I appreciate the complement. You don't look bad yourself, Captain."

Smiling, they turned down the hallway, then realized there was a foldout sign usually used to warn of a wet floor sitting in front of them. This one had a note attached that said:



Kathy and Bill. Stop by the kitchen before you leave.



Kathy took the note off while Bill folded the sign and set it against the wall.

"What do you suppose?" Kathy said.

"Hah. With this bunch, it could be anything. They didn't sign it. If Mr. Wainwright had wanted us, he would just have dialed our rooms. It must be something from the Matthews."

Curiosity bothering them, they hurried to the kitchen. In the center of the smaller of the kitchen tables were two chests with a note on top of one that read simply:



Enjoy



When Bill opened the ice chest, he said, "It's full of ice and a whole variety of soft drinks. And the ice hasn't been in the cooler long."

Kathy opened the other chest. "Oh, my," she said. "There's a lot of food in here. There's fried chicken that's still warm, and about anything else you could think of to go with it on a picnic."

Madison picked up the Escalade's keys lying by the cooler.

Looking at Madison, Kathy said, "Oh, Bill, it's only five now. Someone had to get up early to do all this."

"It was probably, Diana," Bill said pulling out a drumstick.

"Wait. What are you doing? We were going to stop for breakfast. This is for a picnic lunch. And it could have been any of them. Even any, or all of those girls, for that matter. They work in this kitchen just like Diana and Laura. Then again, it could have been Margaret. She made a big deal out of us hurrying to take the Matthews to Georgia."

Bill laughed, taking another big bite. When he could talk again, he said, "Well, let's not leave anybody out. It could have been Evie. She's sweet as she can be, and she's always teasing. It would be a great joke to do this and to not tell anybody."

"Boy. Great detectives we make," Kathy said, taking out a piece of chicken and closing the lid. "We could always ask Fred. He could probably figure it out instantly," she teased.

"Not a chance," Madison joked. "He'd want to eat too much of the chicken to check it out." Eyeing the piece of chicken in her hand, he continued, "I thought you said we were going to eat out," he mumbled trying to swallow and laugh at the same time.

Kathy picked up the pen the Matthews kept on the counter to make out the grocery list. Holding the piece of chicken in her mouth, she turned the note over and wrote:



THANKS!



on the back, leaving it in the middle of the table.

Bill tossed his bone in the garbage, and as Kathy reached for the case, he brushed her hand aside, "Here, take the keys and open the doors for me. That's too heavy for you," he finished picking up a case in each hand.

Laughing at him being macho, she pushed the kitchen door with her back while eating her chicken, grinning at him as he mock glared at her when he walked by.

In the lot, they put their food in back of the Escalade. As Bill started the vehicle, he said, "Well, I'll be damned. I think they are playing with us. The gas tank is pegged. They must have a tank up here and topped the truck up for us."

Kathy smiled and touched her boss on the shoulder. "Playing with us or not, I really, really like these people. Fixing this food for us was a very nice and thoughtful thing to do. They are nice people, and they don't 'put on' to do it either. They just are."

"Well, I can't deny that," Madison said, fastening his belt and glancing at Kathy to see that she had as well. "I don't remember when I've felt so relaxed and... at ease, I guess you could say. Hey, that isn't even logical with all that going on in my life. But, you know, I wish that Linda were here with us. She would love this place, and the Matthews girls... Uhmmm, well maybe not. They're about her age but they're in a multiple marriage."

"And, do you think they would corrupt her?" Kathy asked, looking at him strangely, he thought, as they backed out, turned and head for the switchbacks.

"Well, I..."

"Is she sexually active?" Kathy asked, as if it were the most natural question in the universe.

Bill looked at her.

"Look at the drive," Kathy hissed, but Bill was still in the center of the road where he should be.

"Well, is she?"

"She's only fifteen," he said, but there wasn't any conviction in his voice to indicate that was a convincing reason for not being sexually active. After a moment, "Shit, Kathy. I don't know. And I don't want to know."

As they turned onto the country road and started down the mountain, Kathy continued, "She's only a little younger than these girls, and very little younger than Arlene. They giggle and cut up like teenagers, but... Diana and Laura do too. Heck, Margaret has been, too. And we've seen the girls on the plane several times for long hours, plus here. They act as adult as anyone else, and just as responsible."

Kathy sighed. "I wasn't sexually active until I fell in love with that prick I told you about that I got engaged to, but many young women are responsible enough at fifteen. Only in the last century did we make laws and set an age of consent. Before that, sixteen for a girl was considered old to get married."

"So you're telling me that my daughter is sexually active. Are you sure? You've been around her a lot, but..."

Kathy grinned at him. "I have absolutely no idea. I was just trying to prepare you after I saw the look on your face. With the right person, I'm told it's a wonderful thing. It's for darn sure that I don't know. The only experience I had was with him, and he dropped me like a hot rock when we got ready to graduate. But it sure doesn't look like it has done any of those four girls any harm. I've never been around a more balanced family. They beat the heck out of what I grew up in."

They drove in silence for a while. Seeing Bill's death grip on the steering wheel and the look on his face, Kathy reached over and touched his arm. "Bill, no father wants to learn that his daughter is a sexual person. The only things you can do are to love her, and guide her as best you can. Linda is smart and very responsible. She won't mess up when she decides it's time. And if it will make you feel any better, I doubt very seriously if that time has come for her."

Looking out the window for a moment, she glanced back at the captain. "If you want, I'll ask her if she's on the pill. Her mother may have already started her. When she decides to become active, she needs to be protected. You can't always rely on the boy to use a condom. And although I hate to bring this up, there's always the possibility of rape, or date rape. With her on the pill, at least you and she won't have to worry about a pregnancy."

"I should be discussing this with that bitch I'm married to. Should already have discussed it. I don't know where my head's been."

Looking at the strain on his face, Kathy sighed, "I shouldn't have brought it up. You were in such a good mood. Now, I've spoiled it."

"No, you haven't. I'm still in an excellent mood, and you've brought up something that should already have happened between my wife and myself. And considering what she has been doing and the way she has been treating Linda, I seriously doubt that she has her on the pill, or gives a shit what happens to our daughter."

They drove for a while in silence, then, "I guess it's up to me. What you say makes sense, and I've heard too many fathers berating themselves over the years because their daughters were pregnant. We've always been able to talk, but boy... not about this."

Madison suddenly swerved the big vehicle hard to the right, then back left, rocking the truck, but not losing control in the slightest as a coyote ran across the road in the headlights, almost too late to miss. "Shit, that was close," he said. "I hate hitting an animal, not to say anything about maybe breaking a headlight out of this nice vehicle that they've loaned us."

He might gripe about being old, but his reflexes are darn sure excellent. I'd just about bet that would have been a dead coyote if I had been driving. I probably would have hit the brakes when it would have done no good at all; he just flicked the wheel right and left, and missed it.

Why can't I find a man like him? I've never seen him when he wasn't in complete control. Even finding out what his wife has been doing, he hasn't missed a day from work, and I never even guessed. Well, at least I didn't marry that dipshit from college. The only thing worse than him dumping me would have been to marry me. Then I would have been stuck with the person he turned out to be, for life.

Oh, Bill, even if your wife does divorce you, it won't do me any good. You think you're too old for me. I don't stand a chance. And with the way I'm working, I'll never meet anybody — not that I want to — I have the man sitting beside me that I want to marry, and he doesn't even know I exist. But I did get his attention when I kissed him in the office. And, he kissed me back. But he hasn't mentioned it or anything since then. But, boy, was it nice.

Aloud, Kathy asked, "Would you like for me to talk to her, Bill?"

"Kathy, I can't ask you to do that. It's her mother's job..."

"But, you doubt that she has done it. And you don't have to ask me. I'll be glad to do it. I like Linda, and I she likes me. We get along fine, and enjoy talking to each other. I'll just tell her that you're concerned, and are afraid that Jill hasn't talked to her, or gotten her on the pill. I'll explain that you're worried about date rape, and the like. She'll just grin, knowing that you're embarrassed, but she'll love you for caring."

"I don't know. It's a little like I'm just giving her permission..."

"Bill, you don't have to give her permission. She can do it any time she pleases. Think about how much she has been alone. And she isn't going to take it like that. You'll probably have to go to the doctor's with us though, since I'm not her mother. Of course, the school might give the pills to her. I know some schools do, some with permission from the parents, some without."

Bill pulled into the restaurant they came to, still on the county road just before they got to the intersection of the state road. After shutting off the car, he turned to her. "That SOB almost date-raped you, but it wasn't a pill that saved you. It was your training."

Smiling at him, she solemnly said, "No, it was you that saved me from a very stupid mistake. If you hadn't called when you did, I would have let him screw me, and that son-of-a-bitch had pulled the condom off. There's a good chance that he would have gotten me pregnant."

"Maybe you need to heed some of your own warnings. That pill could save you, just as it could my daughter."

Kathy opened her door, then turned and grinned at him. "Well, maybe there will be two of us getting a prescription pretty soon." Laughing, again in a super mood, she bounced out of the Escalade and met Bill in front to walk beside him into the country restaurant that had just opened for breakfast. Two older men that certainly didn't look like tourists were just receiving their first cups of coffee.

The sign over the door just said:



MARTHA'S



This place is the epitome of a country restaurant, but it smells heavenly in here,  Kathy thought as they walked in and picked a booth. She listened to the two in the next booth talking about getting in a last crop of hay. I love this area. There's everything out here. There's the country, shops in Winter Park, the mountain we just came from, Denver and Boulder, the Rockies. I hope the Matthews and Mr. Wainwright let us come out here more. I could really fall in love with this place.

A lady, a little on the heavy side, with dark brunette hair starting to gray, wearing a white dress and an apron came up and placed their menus on the table.

"Good morning. Coffee?"

"Yes, thanks," Bill answered after a nod from Kathy. "Plenty of creamer and Splenda, if you have it."

"Okay, be right back," she said as she left.

They chatted until the lady came back with their coffee. When they had placed their orders, the lady said, "My waitress has a kid sick this morning, and won't be in for a while, so I'm doing double duty. I'm Martha," she said sticking out her hand to Bill, then Kathy. "Are you two from around here? I haven't seen you before, and somehow you don't look like tourists."

Bill chuckled. "Well, I guess you could call us tourists, though. We were visiting some friends that live on the mountain behind us, and they loaned us their car to see the park today. That's the reason for the local plates."

Martha snapped her fingers. I knew I had seen that vehicle before. That's the reason I though you were from around her. There are usually a lot of women in the SUV when they come by here, but I don't think they're ever stopped in. If you like your meal, you'll have to tell them to stop by sometime.

"Neither of you ordered any grits?" she said, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, mock shock.

"Uh, I've heard of them," Kathy laughed, "but I though that was a southern dish."

"Well, it is. But, I'll make you a deal. I'll give you each a side order just to try. But put a big dollop of butter in them, and if you still don't like them, sprinkle a spoon of sugar over them. I'm from Alabama. A lot of restaurants in the south serve grits with breakfast as a standard. Folks out here are rare that eat them, so I decided to serve them like I used to in the south. After two years, over half of my breakfast customers won't have their meal without them. So anyway," she laughed, "give that southern breakfast a chance, and try them. Can't ever tell, you might be another conversion."

They joked for a moment, and she left to get their order. "Don't bet on it," Bill said, laughing.

"I don't know," Kathy said, looking after the woman. "A lot of restaurants have a stale grease smell in the morning. This place really spells good. Maybe it's just clean, but to have just opened up, it surely smells good in here. If she's proud of her cooking and restaurant, maybe the food will be good."

Bill eyed the high-gloss wooden decor. "The place is spotless. I'll say that for it. If her kitchen looks anything like the dining room, the food should be clean, at least. Now what are we going to do at the park?"

Kathy opened a folder she had brought with her and pulled out a couple of sheets. "I got on the website last night and printed out a map. I looked at some of the places in the park that we might want to see. We should stop at the visitor center, I guess, and get a bigger map and see what else they have. Helen says this is the time of the year to see a lot of the animals. She says she is going to bring the girls for a tour soon, as a school day-trip."

Their meal arrived and Bill dug into his scrambled eggs. He stopped after the first mouthful. "Damn, these are good. So many of the chain restaurants just stir the eggs up in a dish, throw them on the grill until they look like an omelet, then put them on your plate. Look at these," he said motioning with his fork. "These are scrambled eggs. I hate to say this, especially after what I was thinking after she started talking about the grits, but these might just be the best scrambled eggs I've ever eaten. If not, they'll rival the ones we've been eating at the Matthews at least. These might even be better."

Kathy, having ordered hotcakes with cherries and whipped cream, reached over with her fork and took a bite of his eggs. "Hmmm, she cooked them in butter, but so do the Matthews, but there's something else. And you're right. They are excellent. Maybe we will tell the Matthews about this little place after all. My hotcakes surely didn't come out of a box. This woman can cook."

Bill took a couple of bites of his grits, put some more butter in them, but was still not overly impressed. "They're too bland for me," he said as he watched Kathy sprinkle some sugar over hers.

"I don't know. They have a nice taste to me. It isn't strong, but it has an appeal. The taste just seems to go with breakfast. I think I like them."

"The coffee isn't bad for a restaurant, but after drinking the Matthews coffee, I've been spoiled," Bill joked. "We're going to stock up on some of their brand for the plane."

They went on talking about the park and what they expected to see. When they went up to pay, Martha asked them if they liked the grits. "Bill didn't care much for them," Kathy said, "but I liked them. He was very impressed with the scrambled eggs, though."

"Well, no secret about those," Martha said, totaling their ticket. "I scramble them in butter and add a little half and half. And they're fresh. I buy from a small local farm just down the road. If they were any fresher, the hen would be fighting you for them," she laughed. "Fresh eggs make a difference. And I cook them in a small skillet continuously stirring them until they're put on your plate."

"Thanks," Kathy said, "I'll remember that. And you might have just gotten another convert about the grits."

"I've got a little secret about those, too," she said, handing Madison his change. "But, I'll save that for the next time you come in," she laughed. "Have a nice day, and tell that carload of pretty ladies to stop by, and bring that hunk in the driver's seat with them," she said over her shoulder as she hurried back to the kitchen.

As they got in the vehicle a couple of moments later, Bill pushed a toothpick out of its wrapper, then grinned over at Kathy, "Well, that was different," he laughed.

"Oh, you've just gotten used to eating in the ritzy restaurants that Mr. Wainwright treats us to. Her meal was a third the cost, and probably twice as good."

Madison started the Escalade and backed out. As he pulled back onto the road, he said, "Oh, I was just kidding. Actually I was wondering what that lady could do with a good steak. Sometime, if we're back here, we might just find out. Now we take a left when we hit 34; don't we... ?"

-------

THE NORMAL BREAKFAST TABLE AFTER JEFF GOT BACK FROM HIS RUN

"Where are the captain and Kathy? Have they already gone?" Jeff asked.

Arlene, having seen the note of thanks, said, "Yeah, they're gone Dad. They got our lunch."

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"We got up right after you went on your run and fixed a picnic lunch for them, then went back and got another nap."

"I thought you guys got up, but I was so sleepy, that I decided that you were just going to the bathroom, and went back to sleep. What did you fix them?" Diana asked.

"We fried them a whole bunch of chicken, and well, got carried away, I guess. We filled the case with everything we could think of."

"Good," Diana and Laura said in unison.

"We still haven't seen the park," Diana said. "I'd like for us to do that soon."

Jeff and the family agreed.

Everybody picked up on the subject, and the usual morning conversations started. A little later, as the laughter and kidding of the breakfast table momentarily quieted, Dave spoke up. "We're going to spend the day visiting our parents. Can we pick anything up for anyone while we're in Denver?"

When no one responded, Diana remarked, "We're going to have to make a grocery run within the next couple of days, but I can't think of anything that we need you to pick up. Just tell your parents that we said, hi."

"Do you want to shoot with us this morning, Fred?" Jeff asked while loading a biscuit with jelly.

Fred, not expecting to be part of the conversation, quickly swallowed and said, "If you don't mind, I'll wait until you take a break, and shoot plates. If you're still going to, that is."

Jeff grinned at him, "Sure, that sounds good to me. We haven't shot the tree in years."



Note: Jeff is referring to the IPSC tree, or dueling tree. Dueling trees come in several configurations, but generally consist of a vertical steel column with round steel plate targets at the end of rods which attach to the main mast of the tree. The configuration looks like an outline of a tree with the targets on the end of the branches. The target, and arm that it is mounted on, will swing back and lock when struck by a bullet. With an eight-configuration tree, there are four arms and targets on each side of the tree. Targets on each side are a different color. On the signal to fire, two shooters race against each other to hit the targets on their side of the tree. Jeff's dueling tree has an additional target on top to be shot by whoever gets there first. Most dueling trees have to be manually reset, but Dave bought so much, that he convinced the manufacturer to install an automatic reset that could be operated by a remote. After all, it was Jeff's money.



"Yeah, and you always held back, but I didn't realize it until I heard Diana get on your case that time about shooting just good enough for the team to win — not as good as you could."

"Well, I don't..."

"Are you going to use your fast draw rig, Dad?" Arlene deliberately interrupted so Jeff wouldn't have to answer. She had leaned forward so she could better see Jeff past Jennie, who was sitting beside her.

"No, I..."

"Ah, come on, Dad. You shot for Mom and Laura. Shoot for the rest of us. I used to love to watch you do that. Mom says that you easily beat the world's record the other day. And we know why you won't shoot in competition any more, but you can do it for us."

The other girls chimed in, as well as Margaret and Frank. After a while, Jeff reluctantly agreed.

-------

A little later on the new range, Jeff had everyone go through a sequence of practice at the five yard line, now a smooth sidewalk with firing stations clearly marked off.

After about thirty minutes, he had everyone gather around. "We've been spending a lot of time learning the basics. Without a good foundation with them, you can't become an excellent shooter. We've progressed through the slow practice to build muscle memory, and teach you sight alignment, trigger squeeze, proper stance, proper grip, and many other things."

He looked around to quickly make sure they were all listening. "Now we're going to throw all that away," he joked. "No, seriously; it will only seem that way. We're going to learn how to fire much faster, but using the same techniques we've already learned, just speeded up. Eventually you'll learn to use part of your concentration on something other than the actual firing of the weapon. In a gunfight, your might be considering where to move for better cover, whether there are any more adversaries, how many rounds you have left, whether you might be better suited by ricocheting your rounds under his cover, under a car for instance — strategies to enable you to walk away when the fight is over. Remember, there are no rules in this, other than to win, and protect your loved ones and any innocent bystanders. "

Almost everyone was frowning now, except of course, Diana.

"Continuing to practice only on what we've done so far will eventually get you some nice scores on slow fire, and even the state minimum standard courses will eventually be easy for you, even though they're much faster than what you are firing now. But our training has always had the focus on defending our family.

"Now that we have a little money, there is always a greater chance that some bad folks will try to harm us — not to say anything about Hagewood. And with us living way out here, a simple call to the police like you would do in a city, would probably get a deputy here in thirty minutes — maybe. So, we're learning to defend ourselves. Oh, we'll call if anything happens, but we'll defend ourselves until the authorities get here."

Pausing for a moment, he said, "We're going to continue to learn on our paper targets for now, but the emphasis will gradually shift to faster shooting, and eventually on to combat shooting. I'm not talking about Wyatt Earp type shooting, but if we do have to defend ourselves, we have to learn to shoot very quickly, while maintaining the safety of ourselves and those around us. We're accountable for every round fired. The safety of others is paramount if we get into a lethal force confrontation. And since there are several of us, those other people might very well be part of our family.

"So with all that said, we're going to add a couple of other things into our cyclic approach: the beginning of rapid fire, and one-handed firing of the weapon. Generally speaking, it is always best to use enough time to be accurate with your round, and to use both hands to steady the weapon and give it a firmer firing platform, but... you might not have that time, or, God forbid, you might be wounded and unable to use both hands."

His voice changed, "Today we're going to start learning to shoot with one hand — both the strong and the weak. And yes, you can shoot with your left hand. Just remember, the hand is only holding the weapon, the brain and your eyes do the rest. Your pistol feels better in your strong hand, but it can be shot equally as well with the weak hand. Maybe not as fast, but if you practice, there will be little difference in your scores with either hand.

"Amazingly enough, there is at least one government agency that doesn't teach its people to shoot with the weak hand. What happens if your strong hand is incapacitated? I've never been able to understand why they only teach strong hand, but then most police departments teach the use of either hand."

Pointing a few yards in front of them, he said, "Okay, now that everyone is worked up, let's step two paces forward — two yards to about the three yard line."

When everyone had stepped forward and he had them all lined up again, he continued. "We're going to dry fire, then ball and dummy one handed with our strong hand (with all of us, the right hand). Everyone: weapons still locked in your holsters." When he had determined that the line was safe, he demonstrated a one-handed stance, dry fired a few times, then fired a few live rounds. Then had them start.

-------

The last session before lunch, found them on the twenty-five yard line. Jeff looked around at everyone, realizing that they were all tired. "Okay, we're all a bit whipped, but let's get started on one more thing before we break for lunch. Everybody go back to the range house (say shed) on the fifty and get one of those two by eights. Bring it back and put the red end in the metal bracket by your shooting station, and stand the board upright. That vertical piece of lumber is going to give you something to rest your hand or arm against in order that you can shoot better from the twenty-five. It can also represent the side of a building, so that you can learn to shoot efficiently from cover or concealment. Okay, go get your board and be careful. Evie had them sanded and painted, but there could always be a splinter of two left."

When everyone had gotten their board and positioned it in the bracket buried in the ground and also attached to the front side of the sidewalk, the boards were standing vertical with about six feet of the eight-foot length straight up by their firing stations.

"What's the smaller board that's attached to the larger board do?" Jennie asked.

Jeff laughed. "Well, that's a pretend wall. You'll notice that it has a hinge so that the two by four will rotate out to a ninety-degree angle. You kneel down and using that as a rest, fire over it as you would a short wall. We'll get to that later. For right now, just leave it out of the way. Again, empty weapons. Step up on the line and everyone check their weapons. We're going to dry fire a little while I teach you to fire from cover such as the side of a building or a tree, or anything vertical that you might be behind. After we do that with both hands, we'll break for lunch, come back and do our ball and dummy afterwards, then go to live fire."

-------

A little later, with everyone bushed from near constant practice for the last five hours, Jeff, Fred and Frank pitched in to help in the kitchen. Since they were only having hot dogs, chips, etc., the men were actually of some help.

Lunch was quickly over, and the mess cleaned up in short order with everyone helping. "Let's take an hour to relax, maybe take a nap if you're extra tired, then Fred and I will shoot plates for a little while. By the end, and maybe even the middle of this week, you will start on the speed runs on the metal targets — primarily the plate rack and the dueling tree.

"We'll continue the cyclic approach throughout, though. One-handed on the three and five, then the fifteen and twenty-five, using both freehand and cover on the twenty- five. We'll also use some prone from the twenty-five and again at the fifty."

The last comment about the fifty brought groans from the others.

"Then we'll play a little each time with the plate racks and the dueling trees. Spending less and less time on the easy stuff on the range, and more time on the closer fast firing, and the long range firing. Eventually, probably at the beginning of next week, we'll start work on the obstacle course, using shoot/no-shoot targets, and adding movement as you run from cover to cover and engage different targets.

"Oh, yes," he added, as if it were an afterthought, which no one bought, "We start running in the morning at six."

That brought the house down. He figured that if he had ever done anything that would get his pussy allotment cut out for a while, this would be it. There was a bunch of shocked women.

In the mist of the hubbub, he got up and walked out. "I'm going to take a short nap in my favorite recliner. We've got a long afternoon ahead of us."

Diana, after her initial shock, sat back. Glancing over at her daughter, she saw the smug look on Arlene's face. Most everyone had half-hearted objections, mainly just comments about being out of shape. No one challenged Jeff, even Fred, who assumed that Jeff was also referring to him. The detective moaned that he was fifty pounds overweight, and that driveway would kill him for sure.

Frank and Margaret sat stunned, but never thought that they wouldn't be part of the group.

Diana swallowed the last dregs of her drink and looked about her at her sister-wives and friends, and thought, You have just met another aspect of the Alpha Male I married so many years ago. I've seen him make pronouncements like that many times, and almost without exception, everyone does what he wants, without even thinking about it. Fred, Frank and Margaret didn't even think to object, as far as I can see. None of us like to run, but we'll be decked out waiting in the morning when he leads us down that driveway. He'll have to get the SUV to bring some of us back, but we'll do what he says.

She got up, rinsed her glass, and headed for the living room to claim one of the recliners for a nap.

-------

On the range, later, Fred helped Jeff get one of the dueling trees into position. Fred checked out the heavy steel tree with the cams and shielded motor to reset the target arms. "Wow, you spent some money on this one."

"Yeah, I guess you could call this the 'Cadillac' of dueling trees. At least it looks like it won't fall apart," he laughed.

"Hey, the arms don't swing around to the other side, like ours did," Fred commented.

"Yeah, this one doesn't. I had the top target added so we could just run the tree and the first one up their side could shoot the top target. The other tree over there is like the one we used to have."



Note: The "other tree" that Jeff is referring to allows a shot target to swing around on its arm and lock into position on the competitor's side of the tree. Thus, not only does each shooter have to shoot all his own targets, but all the targets that his opponent knocks around to his side as well. Frequently, with four targets on each side of the tree and evenly matched shooters, this can continue through several magazine changes before one person finally gets all the targets knocked around to his opponent's side and wins.



"We'll shoot the other tree later, if you want to, but the women were wanting me to use my fast draw rig, and I thought it would work better with this tree, since the gate loading on the Colt revolver is too slow to compete on the other tree."

"Well, you always used your 1911 Colt autoloader when we shot before. I knew you had competed with the fast draw, but I never saw your rig."

Jeff took his gunbelt out of the box that his wives had brought to the range, buckled it on and tied the holster down.

"Damn, you look sexy, cowboy," Margaret said.

"Ten pushups for smart-ass comments from the peanut gallery," Jeff said, trying to sound grouchy.

"Well, that leaves me out," Margaret laughed, "because I was dead serious." Turning to Frank, she continued, "You're going to have to get one of those rigs."

"Not bloody likely," Wainwright said. "I'd shoot myself in the foot, and take all the fun out of my day."

Jeff laughed as he got some ammunition out of the box. "Most contests use blanks or wax bullets, but some use live ammo. Some of the people who use live ammo also use shields on their legs. A .45 skinning down your leg might be deflected with a shield. I've heard of some folks pulling the trigger a little soon and messing up their day — well make that their month. So far it hasn't happened to me, and I always hold back a little to make sure it doesn't happen."

"You ready Fred?" Jeff asked after making sure everyone had ear protection and was behind the firing line.

"Yeah, I'm ready. But I thought you were going to draw for us. You can't shoot the tree with me with that single action."

There was a distinct, and very unladylike snigger from Diana.

Jeff set the timer on automatic, 1 to 5 seconds, and put it on the table between them. "I'll give it a try," he finished just as the beeper went off and Fred pulled the trigger on his pistol.

Fred got one target before the four on Jeff's side locked back as well as the top target. Fred just stood there.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Fred holstered his gun, as did Jeff. No one said a thing. "You used to mess with me, didn't you, Jeff? You used to let me win about half the time. With the emphasis on let. And that was with your autoloader. How in the hell do you cock that single action that fast?"

Jeff sighed, afraid he had messed up with his friend. "I just rock my left hand, rotating cocking with my thumb and little finger. It's nothing new. Quite a few people fan the hammer that way."

Fred looked at Jeff. "I had my finger on the trigger, my pistol at ready-gun, my sights only a little under the first target. You were still holstered, but I didn't even get lined up on the second target before you cleaned all five. When we used to practice with the guys on the team, you almost always won, but by just a little bit. Now I know what Diana meant. Why in the hell did you hold back? You would be in every record book the sport has."

"Yeah," Jeff admitted, his voice harsh, "and how many friends would I have?" He ejected the five empty rounds he had fired, then reloaded. Holstering, he turned to his buddy. "Fred, I apologize. I acted like an ass."

"What... ?" Fred started. "That's ridiculous. But now I know what Diana meant that day when she jumped your ass. I shot competition for thirty years, and while you were on our team, we won every match. But like Diana said, you only shot what you needed to for a win for the team. Unless someone on our team really screwed up, you always pulled us out. And with the people we had, a screwup was rare. So now you finally show me what you can do and you apologize. Get real. You didn't hurt my feelings. I'm good and I know I'm good, but shit, Jeff, I'm not in your game. Crap we're not even playing in the same ballpark. Now stop the apology shit, and do that again while I watch. I want to see it this time."

Jeff looked back at his friend. "Let me just get my 911 A-1 and we'll move to the other tree and slap a few targets back and forth to each other..."

Fred took a step and grabbed Jeff's arm, momentarily startling himself when he realized that the muscle felt like rock. Quietly he said, "Stop with the humble shit. Now, all your wives came out here to see you shoot, and so did I. Now let's see you shoot. And if you hold back, I swear, I'm going to be pissed. Now let it rip."

Fred slipped his ear protection back on, checked that the others had theirs on, hit the remote to reset the targets, and looked at Jeff. At Jeff's nod, Fred hit the timer and waited, staring at Jeff's hand. The timer beeped and Jeff drew and fired. Fred barely saw Jeff's hand lift the Colt out of the holster, rotate the gun level, and his left hand flutter over the hammer. All five of the five inch plates slammed around and locked. The beep of the timer was barely over before the last round was fired — the whole volley sounding like one long shot.

After a moment, when Jeff had unloaded and everyone had taken their ear protection off, Fred grinned and said, "I could win an awful lot of money on you for the first few matches. Then I couldn't get anybody to bet."

Motioning to Jeff's Colt Fred asked, "Can I see that?"

"Sure," Jeff said, again checking the weapon and handing it to Fred.

Fred, having gun safety pounded into him for thirty years on the police force, unconsciously again checked the gun before pulling the hammer back to check the action. "Shit, Jeff. Any race gun I've ever picked up had a hammer spring so weak that the hammer came back practically by itself. This is hard to pull back, but the action is smooth as glass. What happened? Is something wrong with your gun?"

Jeff laughed, then grinning at his friend and mentor, said, "The time it takes for the hammer to fall is a factor, also. Strong spring, quicker hammer fall. Most people want it to be a light pull to facilitate quicker cocking, but after I practiced for a while, I just went the other way.

"I did one of the top gunsmith's a favor or two, and he repaid me with his special hardened parts that he recommends. We rigged up a special double coil spring that really pushes the hammer down in a hurry. Most people don't like my gun. It's completely reversed to what they want. But I figured that I was cocking the gun as fast as it could be cocked, the only way to shave more time was to make the hammer fall faster."

"Not for me, it wouldn't," Fred said, cocking the single action again, and squeezing the trigger. "Did you smooth the action, or did the gunsmith do it?"

"I did the smoothing, but I was just following his directions. He did everything else."

"Must have been a hell of a favor, if he told you his secrets."

"Well, they're not really secrets. All you have to do to see what's been done to the gun is just disassemble it. But he did like my little favor," Jeff finished, grinning.

Jeff propped his foot on a cross support on the little table as everyone gathered around to listen. "Fred, as you well know, some of the times for self-start are debatably less than the time it takes the hammer to fall and strike the primer. Which means that something is false. With the polishing and the parts inside that weapon, and the increased speed of the hammerfall, I can substantially speed up my times, both in single fire with a self-start, as well as with a burst as I did on the five plates. I don't really give a shit about someone else's time; I just want to do the best I can — real, true times."

Fred looked at him for a moment, proud of his student. "Do me three self-starts in a row for an average, while hitting the target. Then do three starts with the timer set on random so we can check your reaction time with the complete draw and fire on target."

"Fred, I..."

"Jeff," from Diana.

Fred mouthed, "Pussy whipped," to Jeff.

"Damn, straight," Jeff acknowledged as he loaded his Colt.

Jeff drew and fired three times with the timer button six inches from his holster, which meant there could be no fudging.

Fred then set the timer on random 1 - 5 seconds. Jeff reloaded, then drew and fired three more times when the timer went off. Each time, Jeff had his hand at least six inches from his holster. Each of the shots hit the five inch plate dead center.

Fred had carefully written each time down while everybody watched. After dividing and averaging the self-start times, then the full times, he rechecked everything, saying his math aloud so everyone could follow him. He then had the timer calculate the times. His math and the machine's matched. He stood looking with everyone else at the figures. Most didn't know what they were looking at. Fred did, as well as Diana and Arlene from the contests they had attended with Jeff, plus Diana and Laura's timing of him before.

Jeff reached over and tore the page out of Fred's small pad, wadded the paper up and put it in his pocket. "Let get back to the range, he said, putting his rig back into the box. We've got some catching up to do."

Diana grinned at Fred and winked. "Told you," she mouthed as she turned to follow her husband to the twenty-five.

As Jeff walked by, Fred stuck his hand into Jeff's pocket and took the crumpled sheet back. "That belongs to me," he said, grinning.

Jeff frowned at him but kept walking.

"I guess he was pissed, today," Arlene said to Ann as they fell in behind the men. "He was even faster this time than he was when he shot with Mom and Laura. "Nobody would believe those times," she said, motioning to the paper in Fred's hand, her grin almost cracking her face, "No body. But we know. There are the world record times — then there are our Alpha Male's times," she giggled.



-------

Chapter 27

Bill and Kathy stopped at the Kawuneeche Visitor Center. After looking at the exhibits and picking up pamphlets of things to see, they got a more detailed map. They read the suggestions about sunblock, information about temperature change, and frequent, even sometimes drastic, weather changes. An older female ranger approached them and asked if she could help. She talked to them for ten minutes or so, very enthusiastically, about the park and its attractions.

They entered through the Grand Lake entrance near the visitor center. Although they had talked and cut up on the plane when she had been a flight attendant, and spent many hours together as he taught her to fly, still, although it was more than pilot and flight attendant, or instructor and student, there was a gulf remaining between them that Kathy wished wasn't there. Bill always maintained a little of his professionalism when they were alone together, justifiably so, Kathy knew, because he was married. But after their conversation on the driveway, things had changed a little, and the kiss had helped some too, she hoped. But during their tour of Winter Park yesterday, there had still, somehow, been a small amout of tension.

Today, they were more relaxed. Kathy looked out the window during a slight lull in their joking and conversation. I am so, so glad I didn't let Brannon fuck me. I'm in love with this man, but with everything that going on, I still don't know whether he takes me seriously as a prospective mate. He's got to know that his marriage is over. Linda has told him all those things, and he's listened to the tapes. Even if his wife should suddenly change her mind, surely he wouldn't try to go on.

I kissed him before I even realized I was going to do it. But that was just my thanks for what he did for me, and my joy of the moment. I don't know what it was when he kissed me back, but it was beyond nice. Still, he just treats me like a friend. He obviously likes doing things with me. Heck, we've gone to dinner at beautiful places over and over while Wainwright's people vacationed and played, not to say anything about all those trips to DC. Before, I never thought I had a chance. But his divorce is an almost absolute, whether he does it or she does it. But darnit, he treats me almost like his daughter. I'm twenty-five years old. I'm a woman. Well, not very experienced maybe, but I darn sure would like for him to teach me.

I don't know whether that asshole I was engaged to was any good or not. He got me off most times, but it sure wasn't as good as some of the girls said theirs were.

She unobtrusively glanced at his pants as he turned in the seat to check for traffic. He doesn't run around with a hardon like a boy, but I've seen a bulge there from time to time when his pants are pulled tight. And he's a man, not an idiot like Brannon stuffing something down there to impress. Chances are, what I saw there is man. Crap, what's wrong with me? If I keep thinking like this, I'm going to be so excited that he will smell me. I would be so embarrassed that I could never look him in the face again.

"Oh, Bill. Look at that lake. Pull over, please."

As Madison parked in the little pullover, he wasn't quite sure what had attracted Kathy's attention. Then he saw it. Kathy was out of the SUV in a flash, standing by the water.

The lake, probably only a couple hundred yards long and maybe two hundred feet wide, was bordered on two sides by the road. The opposite side had evergreen trees sparsely lining its bank, with the exception of an area midway of the trees that had nothing. The lake did not have a ripple on it, and the dark water made a perfect mirror. The trees were beautifully reproduced in the still water, and the gap in the trees showed a snow-covered peak in the distance that was reflected in the water.

"Oh, Bill, if we just had a camera."

Madison laughed and turned back to the Escalade. "Whoever fixed our lunch and topped up the tank put what appears to be a brand new Canon digital SLR on the seat. If I can figure out how to operate this thing," he laughed a couple of moments later as he took it out of its case. "we'll have some high-resolution pictures to take back with us. Gees, I didn't even know that they came with this many pixels."

Giggling like one of the teenagers, Kathy ran to stand with her back to the lake. Bill laughed and started taking pictures. A few minutes later, a family with two young boys pulled up, and Bill asked the man if he would take his and Kathy's picture together. As he put his arm around her to smile at the camera, Kathy put her arm around his waist, too. You had better run now, Big Boy. If you don't, and that bitch does divorce you, we might look like that family one day.

She felt tears mist her eyes, and quickly turned away to look at the gorgeous little lake, before Bill noticed.

Later, at the top of the mountain above the tree line, they pulled into the parking lot of the Alpine Visitor Center. As they got out to go into the beautiful peaked-roof building, its exterior made of logs and rock, they met an older couple that were walking two little dogs.

"Are those Chihuahuas?" Kathy asked the lady.

She smiled back and said, "Yes. The brown one is a deer-head, and the black one is an apple-head. But they're both Chihuahuas."

The man, gray haired and gray bearded, spoke up, "Our kids are grown, so I guess you could say that these are our children now."

The couple laughed at their own little joke, as Kathy leaned over to pet the black one, who wagged herself all over wanting attention.

The lady, her hair still a light red, but showing a little gray, appearing younger than the man, said, "The brown one just endures people, other than us of course, but the black one goes against tradition for Chihuahuas; she just loves everybody."

The man picked up one of the Chihuahuas, whose nose twitched to catch the smells. "Is this your first trip to the park for you and your wife?" he asked, glancing at Kathy, but talking to Bill.

Kathy could feel her face instantly flame. Well, at least he didn't say, "for you and your daughter."

Bill didn't even blink as far as Kathy could tell. "Yeah, this is our first time. How about you two?"

"Oh, we've been here many times," the man said. "Heck, when our son was twelve, we took a picture of him standing over there," he said pointing, "right after the plows cleared out enough of the snow to get in here. We came in the next day after school was out. I think it was May 25th, if my old memory doesn't fail me, and we had to wait down the mountain for the plows to finish. Our son stood against the wall of snow, and as best we could figure from his height and guesstimating, the snow was at least twenty feet deep here in the lot before they plowed most of it out. The whole area," he said gesturing to the walkway on the other side of the lot going up the slope of the mountain, "was many feet deep in snow. Although the drifts up there weren't as deep as they were in the parking lot. It was impressive walking up the walk with walls of snow on each side, though.

"We came through from the Estes Park side a couple of years ago, about this time of year, second week in September..."

"It was the third week, Dear," his wife corrected him.

He grinned at her, "... and we never did get up the mountain. The road was barricaded and the ranger at the visitor center said they were plowing out the road from a snowstorm, but he couldn't, or wouldn't offer even a guess as to how long it would take. We waited around for a couple of hours, but the guy acted irritated that we had bothered him to ask. So we just went on with our vacation. We lucked up today; there are a few snowbanks that haven't melted, but the roads are clear, even up here. But that might not be true tomorrow. Things change quickly this high up; heck we've been here in August when there was snow on the sides of the road."

Bill got the man to take their picture standing by the visitor center, and they said their good-byes as the couple put their "children" in the car, put the dog's seatbelts on, and drove off waving and smiling at the younger couple.

Much as they did with the first visitor center, they looked at the exhibits, reading everything, taking their time. Both got a cup of coffee and sat down at a little table to drink it, looking at the fabulous view out the back of the center.

"Where're we going now, pilot?" Madison asked as he took a sip of coffee, then frowned. "This stuff looked like it was about to boil in the pot, but it's not..."

Kathy grinned at him, as he embarrassed himself for a pilot not instantly picking up on the problem. Winking at her, he said, "Don't you smirk at me. Eleven thousand seven hundred feet here. Water, or in this case, coffee, boils at a lot lower temperature. Therefore the coffee isn't as hot as we're used to."

"Getting slow there in your 'old' age, Skipper?"

"Not too old to turn a certain young lady over my knee."

"Oohh, now that sounds interesting," she teased.

Madison's face colored. "You blushed," she said, poking him in the ribs. "An old married man like you, blushed."

"Not too much longer," he responded. "I can't believe I'm just about to be divorced. I got married for life." Taking a step to a nearby trash container, he threw the nearly-full cup of coffee in. "By the time I put in two little containers of cream, the coffee is just warm. I like hot coffee," he said, his voice sounding a little irritated.

Kathy tossed hers too. "I asked about the tundra, and the lady behind the counter said there was a little walkway with an exhibit just a little farther on," she said, knowing that Bill was hurting.

Only about a quarter of a mile from the visitor center, they rounded a curve and saw a half dozen moose standing on the tundra, grazing.

"We can't walk on it, but they eat it," Bill laughed, somehow finding it funny. "I wonder if the ranger is going to write them a ticket?"

"Quit trying to be funny, and get the camera. I thought that brochure said they were loners, and that you would seldom see more than two together."

"Maybe the guy that made the brochure forgot to tell these guys. Hey, it looks like an extended family. That looks like everybody from grandpop to the latest grandkids to me."

"They're so far away, but I'm afraid that they'll be gone by the time you change lenses."

Bill laughed as he pulled the camera out of the case. "Even with just the zoom on the camera and that hundred yards, with the megapixels this thing has, you'll still be able to count the hair on their heads." He put the case on the hood of the SUV, set the camera on it, lay across the vehicle and shot a number of pictures. Just as he was finishing, something spooked the animals and they ambled off.

"Well, we got some picture of some meeces," he joked, putting the case with the extra lens and memory cards back on the seat, but this time, left the camera out of the case.

Later in the day they ate their lunch in a picnic area. After cleaning up, they strolled to a little waterfall and sat down on a convenient bench (half log). Both were beginning to be a little tired, and thinking about starting back toward the retreat. "Shall we head back?" Madison asked, "We've got some flying to do tomorrow, plus a drive to the airfield. We couldn't see all this place in two days, heck, maybe a week."

"Yeah, I guess so," Kathy said, "but first, we need to talk a little."

Raising an eyebrow, he quipped, "Uh, I thought that's what we've been doing all day."

Kathy ignored his comment and turned more toward him. "Have you decided what you're going to do with Linda when this all comes down?"

Bill seemed to shrink. Blowing his breath out, he said, "I wish I knew. I tossed and tumbled half the night thinking about that. Mr. Wainwright says he'll get something worked out, but I can't see what it could be. Even if he can find responsible people for her to stay with while I'm gone, they'll still be strangers. And living a little with them, then a little with me, just isn't an answer.

"Why did that bitch do this to us?" he suddenly asked, his voice harsh.

Yes,  Kathy thought. Now, you've got the right attitude. You didn't do anything wrong, big man. Get pissed!

Kathy suddenly sat stunned — an idea hitting her, hard. No, that would never work. Well, not the way he wants, but it just might work, and if it did, everything would be solved. But it's too soon to mention it — way too soon.

Her mouth opened and her voice spoke, while she thought she was still considering Linda. Appalled, she heard herself ask, "Why do you ignore me? You know darned well that Jill's going to divorce you. You haven't done a thing wrong. Why do you ignore me?"

I didn't say that. Oh shit. I didn't say that, did I? Oh, crap. Now you've blown it, you idiot. The guy's hurting from the slut he's married to screwing her doctor buddy and planning to take everything Bill has, and you say a dumb thing like that. He'll never have anything to do with me now. What have I done? Oh, shit. Oh, shit!

I'm sorry, Bill. I shouldn't have said that,  her mind said. But her mouth said, "I know darn good and well that you have feelings for me. I can feel them, and I can see them in your eyes. I'm not asking for anything, now. You're still married, but you haven't done anything wrong, and this isn't the end of your world; although, I know it feels like it now. Your daughter and I get along great, and it's not put-on. There won't be any conflict there. And I'll stand by you and help all I can while you fight through this.

"And stop thinking about yourself as too old. Apparently I like older men. Well, I darn sure like one, anyway."

From somewhere, he came up with a paper towel, and wiped her face. Why is he doing that? she thought, the tears pouring down her cheeks not having registered at all.

Bill wiped more tears as she grabbed the paper towel and wiped her eyes, herself.

Bill glanced at his pretty copilot as she blew her nose. Her shorts bundled a tight ass made that way by a lot of time spent in the dojo. The muscle structure running down her legs flexed as she crossed them and glared at him, tossing her head and sniffing. Her upturned nose was red from crying, but her short hair, that never seemed to be mussed, fell back into place, even as the wind ruffled it for a moment. She hugged the light jacket to her as she opened her mouth to chastise him some more, he figured.

Feeling his heart melt for her, a feeling that he had tried to deny for the last six months or so, he reached over and touched her lips, stilling her coming tirade, instantly. "Kathy," once more he tried, "I really am old enough to be your father. Twenty years from now, when I'm an old man and you're still a vibrant young woman, you might not be as pleased with the age difference."

"Oh, so I would still be a vibrant young woman — three — years older than you are now, but you on the other hand are too old. You're arguing from both sides of the coin, old man. You're going to have to do better than that," she laughed, then sniffed as she fought not to cry.

He took her in her arms and hugged her as she snuggled to him. "Kathy, I can't... I took vows that I meant to keep. Have kept..."

Kathy whacked him in the side, harder than she meant. "I'm not asking for anything. Just to stop thinking about me like I'm a kid. If you respected my abilities and my mind, as surely you did, or you would never have done what you did to keep a job open for me, then think of me as an adult that knows what she wants. I'll be there for you when this is over. And I would never try to make you violate those vows. But one day, I'll be waiting. And, I'm tired of this, 'I'm too young, ' routine. I'm a woman. A woman who will wait, and do her best to help you through this."

He suddenly hugged her fiercely, then kissed her forehead. His eyes focused on her mouth for a moment, but he seemed to tear himself away. Taking her hand, he said, "Let's get started back. You can bet we'll have people lined up to go just about everywhere before our wheels even touch the tarmac in Saint Louis. Mr. Wainwright said he talked to Mr. Tingle. They had something come up and they're using commercial, but Mr. Wainwright nixed Tingle calling us in."

"Let's get back, spend some time with the Matthews, Mr. Wainwright and Margaret. We'll have to leave out really early in the morning."

They walked back to the Escalade holding hands, both of them extremely aware of the other's touch. Kathy tossed her tissue in a trash can, got in the vehicle and settled in — happier now than she had been in a long, long time.

-------

Jeff got up at four as usual, did his fourteen miles, then somehow getting back early, fixed a pot of coffee and went to the living room to relax, waiting for the others to get up. As he turned in the door, he saw Wainwright coming down the hall.

"Coffee is ready if you want a cup before we go," Jeff said, then went on in and sat down near the window. Frank came in a couple of minutes later, pulled up a chair and sat holding his coffee, just looking out the window.

"What have you got on your mind, Frank?"

Frank chuckled, then blew on his coffee to take a sip before replying. "Am I that obvious? I'm going to have to work on that."

Jeff took another sip, set his coffee down and raised the foot support of his recliner, watching a gust of wind blow multi-colored leaves past the lights. "Ever since you've been here, you and Martha have been attached at the hip, especially in the morning when you get up. Now you're here twenty minutes early and she's not. You're not frowning, nor do you appear to be uptight, so I doubt if it's serious. How am I doing?"

Leaning back in his chair, Wainwright looked over at Jeff and grinned. "We've pretty much clicked from the beginning..."

Jeff broke in with a chuckle, "Yeah, except when you tried to ramrod my wives into calling 911."

"Shit. I guess I'll never live that down. I'm just glad you came in before they taped my mouth shut. Margaret would have reminded me about that on my deathbed," he finished with a sick chuckle. "But other than that... remember when you first came up to the office? You brazened your way past a couple of secretaries, walked into that conference with my vice presidents like you owned the place. When I stood up, you stuck your nose in my face and asked, 'How would you like to be rich?' Fuck, I thought Tingle was going to strangle, he laughed so hard.

"When I smarted off and said, 'I am rich.' You just grinned at me and said, 'Not yet, you're not. But you will be if you'll get rid of these people and listen to me for thirty minutes.' You never looked away, nor blinked even, that I can remember. You just radiated absolute confidence."

"I thought that ball-headed guy, uh, Johnson, was going to have a stroke," Jeff laughed.

"He wasn't nearly as upset as I was when you didn't come back for our meeting that final afternoon. Then acted like you didn't give a shit whether you sold your radar or not, when I called you that night at home."

"Later, I need to go into more detail about that afternoon and night, but not now. What..."

"Other than that afternoon, and the 911 incident when I went stupid, we've clicked." Grinning he said, "Maybe your harem has it right, the Alpha Male walked into that conference, and I sent everyone out, just like he told me to do."

"No, you didn't," Jeff said. "Well, I guess you sent them, but Margaret didn't go, and if I remember right, Tingle walked back in a couple of minutes later."

"Yeah, well, I sleep with Margaret, and Tingle is running my company right now. He's damn near as hardheaded as I am, and right almost as much as I am," he kidded. "Tingle has the twenty million in an account ready for you. He faxed a contract that you need to get your lawyer to look over. If the contract doesn't suit him, just tell him to fix it."

"Frank, damnit, you don't have to do that. You're welcome here any time — for as long as you want to stay. Crap, we'll stock an apartment for you two. Your guidance is invaluable to me, and..." Jeff's voice got quieter. "You know that I'm still with the government. There's always the possibility that I won't come back one day..."

"Ah, bullshit..."

"... Dave and Evie will do their part, but you would be invaluable to Diana... Frank, I don't have to ask you to promise me, do I?"

A cold breath washed through Wainwright's bones. "Hell, no you don't Jeff... Hell, no."

They sat staring out the window for a time. "Uh, I almost forgot what I came to see you about."

Jeff looked over and grinned, retrieved his coffee and took another sip.

"I think a lot of that pilot of mine."

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

Wainwright laughed, "No, there isn't a gay bone in my body — pun intended. I'll give you some of the details later, but his wife has turned out to be a slut, and possibly even worse, a true bitch. She's fucking some medical doctor and planning to divorce Bill, taking him to the cleaners in the process. He's got a daughter who's sharp as can be — well, I guess you're familiar with smart women, and so am I — but she is smart. She's recorded all kinds of shit her mother has been saying on the phone to her lover — but I'll handle that end of the deal.

"Bill is forty-two, and that co-pilot of his is twenty-five. Margaret says she's got her sights set on Madison, but is playing it straight, waiting for the divorce. Well, Bill and I talked a little last night. He's in love with Kathy. He's been holding back because of the age difference, and he's afraid that his feelings might be tangled with his wife's rejection of him. Hell, the guy's fucked up. He has put away some money, worked hard, but now his world has gone to shit. And...  Kathy laid it out for him yesterday while they were at the park. She isn't pushing him, but she's told him more or less how she feels.

"Margaret says that she and Kathy have talked. That Kathy and Bill are so much in love with each other that she can feel it when she walks into the room with them. Whatever, but I want my pilot fully functional, not torn up over some bitch that's been fucking around on him for no telling how long.

"If he turns that young lady down because of his age, they're both going to be fucked having to work together. That cockpit is just big enough for the instruments and them. It's not big enough for the trauma that could come out of this, stuffed in there with them. He thinks he's too old for her..."

"You want me to use the healer on him."

Wainwright sighed, "I don't take lightly what you did for me — for us. Thank you, Jeff... I should have brought this up before, but it won't be any problem to get them up here again. They were all set to get up at three, so they could get back to Saint Louis, but I nixed that. I told them that we were all going to go for a run this morning, and for them to sleep in, eat breakfast with us, then someone would run them to Boulder to fly back at their leisure. I called Tingle and told him they would be coming back today, but would start work tomorrow morning.

"We've all been deluged with work. We've got three more new products that are coming to fruition at about the same time as your radar. We've overused our pilots, and it's a damn wonder something hasn't happened. We've got another few months of this frantic shit, then it should ease off. Maybe Madison's problem will be solved by then — at least with that bitch he's supposed to be living with — and he can take some time off.

"When his divorce is final — Margaret's idea — we're going to send the two of them somewhere, hopefully on their honeymoon."

"Frank, I know you take care of your dedicated employees, but..."

"I owe Madison. And Margaret and I have helped a lot of our employees. It's a funny thing. Most of it, I would have sworn that I would never have gotten back, but something has happened almost every time. They bring in another employee who makes a hell of a contribution to the company, or they have turned us around from making a big mistake... I don't know. I could go on and on.

"My dad and mom treated their employees that way when I was growing up, and it worked for them. Oh, I'm not Mr. Goody Two Shoes. I've fired my share of people, signed off on a lot more over the years that my supervisors have fired, but the people that have helped my company — I help back. People have come to my office asking for money, who I thought were probably going to fleece me, but with only one exception, that hasn't happened.

"I pulled up the payroll records, then the flight records on Bill and Kathy. They've worked an appalling amount of hours in the last two years. We compared flight records with payroll. The guy hasn't turned in nearly enough hours for himself. Oh we've paid him for his flying, but crap, he's also an administrator. He has to see to the aircraft, scheduled maintenance, order parts, fuel, stock supplies... on and on. He pays for everything through his flight office. But we don't see it on his total hours; there just aren't enough administrative hours that he's turned in. He's been working for me when he's not getting paid for all of it.

"Oh, he's made damn good money, but something in the back of my mind didn't jive when I went over flight costs. And I'm feeling guilty. What if all those hours he spent working for me, contributed to his wife getting fed up and deciding to find a man somewhere else? If that's happened, and I can't help feeling that something along those lines has happened; if she's found someone else, and is going to divorce him, there's not much I can do about that. But at least I can give him some alone time in some nice spot with the next woman in his life."

The quiet drew out as they sat there. "What's the real story, Frank?" Jeff quietly said, his coffee forgotten.

Wainwright sighed. "Damn, I guess I am getting obvious in my old age." He drained the last of his coffee, set the cup on the table, and leaned back again. "A while after I hired Bill, we had a small plane, but it had some problems, and we sold it. We rented another small plane from this outfit — never had any problems until one day... It was just the two of us. I was sitting in the copilot's seat. I guess we were maybe a quarter mile past the runway, perfectly routine takeoff, then something went "thump," and the fucking jet quit. Everything went dead. And I knew we were going to be, too, in just a few seconds.

"Like they say, that thing had all the gliding characteristics of a rock. There was nothing but trees as far as we could see — big fucking trees — and we were going down — quick. He tried everything. Hell, the fucking radio wouldn't even work — not that it mattered. But he was just as calm, seemingly unhurried as he always is.

"He told me to lean forward, to cover my face, because there were going to be limbs coming through the window, but to not panic. He promised me that I would live to fly again, even as that big fucking oak tree came up and smacked us. I could see it coming — like slow motion. All I could think about was this was exactly the way my mother and dad had died on that commercial flight. The sound that plane made going into those trees is something that I still dream about.

"When we stopped, the cockpit was all bashed in and pushed back. Madison had a big cut on his forehead, and another one on his shoulder. There was blood everywhere. So much that his whole face was covered in it. He kept blowing air through his lips to keep the blood out of his mouth as he talked to me. I couldn't fucking move. From my hips down, the side and I guess the instrument panel, had come down on my lower body. I could hear fuel sizzling on a hot surface. Bill ripped out shit in that cockpit like it was tissue paper, then he lay down beside me and put his feet against all that stuff that was on me.

"I kept telling him to get out. I knew that nothing was going to get me out of there in time, but he just said, 'fuck you, I'm staying. I promised you," and he pushed. When he did, it hurt so bad that I almost passed out. But he joked with me and told me that I didn't want to go to sleep and miss all the excitement. Then he pushed again. After a while, I don't know how long, he pulled me out, crawled through the front window with me. A few feet from the plane — I don't know how far — he was running with me over his shoulders; we heard the thump and whoosh as it lit off. He threw me on the fucking ground and lay down on top of me.

"There was an explosion and intense heat, then he was running with me again. I woke up in the hospital emergency room — hurting, then a day later came back to real consciousness. Somehow, the news media reported that we were thrown clear. By the time I was functional enough to realize what was going on, our ten minutes of fame was over. I never did get to tell them that he pried me out of that cockpit with jet fuel pouring out of those tanks, took the heat of that fire for me — saved my life over and over. He had second, and some third degree burns on his back and legs. He only had to have skin grafts in a few places, as Bill put it.

"The plastic surgeons fixed his face and the worst of the scarring on his back. But anyone who sees his back will know he's been burned. I don't fly with anybody but Bill Madison — anybody! I got a lot of miles in a limo until he was healed, recertified and able to fly again."

Jeff whistled quietly through his teeth. "I'm surprised that he's not a vice president," he tried to joke.

"He won't take it," Wainwright quietly said, serious. "He likes to fly. Said he might take it when he gets too old to fly. Yeah, right.

"Everyone else flew commercial until his back was healed enough for him to fly. I didn't go many places because it takes so long to get there in a limo. Then came all the shit from the insurance companies. But before that, they kept trying to make it pilot error. They and the FAA had already talked to Bill. When I woke up, they kept trying to make me say he did something wrong. But they couldn't get around that 'thump' and everything going dead. I'm certainly not a pilot, but I've sat in that copilot's seat enough over the years to know that our takeoff was fine and at the proper speed, our rate of climb was dead on, proper thrust. In the end, I got fucking adamant. They weren't going to saddle him with pilot error. We finally settled out of court. I gave Bill a sizeable chunk of the insurance money, besides what he got, and he invested it. Fuck, I didn't need it, and I wouldn't be alive if it were not for him.

"I told Bill to buy us a brand-new aircraft that would seat at least twelve people plus the pilots and flight attendant. And I wanted everything that could be put on it. He came to me a couple of times with suggestions. I ran his ass out and told him to buy the aircraft of his dreams. Margaret and I did pick out the color scheme and the seating.

"He ordered what he wanted, and I made the manufacturer deal with him — I wouldn't even talk to them. He understands that he can update anything he wants on the plane, or anything associated with it. He wants it — he buys it. Just get my ass on the ground in one piece. If he ever quits me, I'll have a lot of fucking miles in a limo."

After a minute, Jeff asked, "So when are you going to get him back up here."

"Well, I figured — if you can put up with us — that we'd stay until next Monday. We can bring him back... ; say Friday night. He'll be here three nights that way. Will that work?"

Jeff thought for a moment. "I hope so. Maybe he's a sound sleeper, but he's a pilot, and a good one," he said, refuting his own statement, "He's probably accustomed to sleeping in that cockpit with one eye open while his copilot has the controls. I'm afraid he'll hear me when I open the door, or sense me when I walk into the room. Maybe we can get a couple of beers down him..."

Wainwright snorted. "Zero alcohol. Zero tolerance. I know he won't drink if he's got to fly the next day. You couldn't tie him up and pour it down him. And I doubt he'll drink enough to do any good, any other time."

"I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can think of a way of getting in there without waking him."

After a couple of moments of silence, while Wainwright thought about the crash, and Jeff thought about something else, Frank asked, "Are you going to carry the car down to the bottom of the drive. Your women will probably run right back up that driveway, but my old ass, won't."

"I took the Escalade down when I went out for my run. How about staying back with Fred for me? I don't want his feelings hurt with this."

"You don't mind killing us, as long as you don't hurt our feelings? Right?" Before Jeff could respond, Frank added, "Yeah, Jeff. I'll stay with him. But this is going to be hard as hell on him."

"Maybe not as hard as it would have been a few hours ago," Jeff said with a glint in his eye, "Plus he used to have to physically qualify every year before he retired. He's heavy, but he's run before. He might surprise both of us."

"So, our detective sleeps soundly, huh?"

"Like a baby," Jeff grinned. "Like a baby. But somehow, I suspect he'll have a little more energy this morning than he would expect."

"What, the crap are you two planning, sitting over there in the dark with your heads together?" Fred said, standing in the living room doorway. "Let's go jog a little fat down the driveway — well, a lot of fat as far as I'm concerned. 'Course, it's probably going to take a tractor to pull my fat ass back up that driveway," he said, in the best mood Jeff had seen him since the funeral.

"Got your gun with you," Jeff asked.

"You gotta ask?" the retired cop said, turning to show the bulge under his tee-shirt.

Jeff laughed. "Sorry."

The three men headed for the kitchen just in time to follow the women in. There were ten pancake holsters with matching two-inch belts covered by a tablecloth, setting on the bigger of the kitchen tables. As he pulled the tablecloth off to reveal the equipment, his surprise — wasn't. He had, at first, been proud of his surprise, but as soon as he had seen the women entering the kitchen with their Glocks, he wondered just how much of a surprise it was going to be. Now he knew for sure — none.

Damn, Christmas is going to be a bitch for me. How in the heck am I going to surprise my wives?

Margaret came in a moment later carrying her Glock, as well. "I guess the only one who forgot his gun is me," Frank said starting to turn around and go back to their apartment.

Margaret laughed, and pulled his Glock out from behind her. "Why don't you try this one?" she said, smiling. "They called me."

Ann turned to Jeff. "Husband," she said, "The tops that Arlene and I have on barely come down to the holster. They'll show..."

"We're just going up the county road to the right. It's a dead end. There shouldn't be anyone out there but us. We've made an effort to conceal our weapons. I really don't care. We're going armed. Make sure that belt is tight and the snap is secure on your holster. Let's go for a stroll and enjoy the morning."

There were a couple of half-hearted giggles, and a groan from Fred, but they were soon outside. Jeff stopped them as they crossed the parking lot. "We need to do a few warm-up exercises to limber up a little. We'll do them before we go out, then when we come back, to help with the soreness and torn muscles. Some people are helped by the warm-ups, or stretches as they're frequently called, others not. They don't help me at all. I just start with a slow jog for the first couple hundred yards to warm up.

"Until we know what works and what doesn't for everyone, we'll do the stretching exercises, though."

Jeff led them through ten minutes of light stretches, then got them started down the drive. "We're going to walk down the drive. Then jog/walk for a half mile out, then back. Then we'll ride up the driveway."

"Amen, to that," Fred said. "You might not need the undertaker today if I can ride up that driveway. But I will admit — now since I probably won't have the breath later — that I feel better this morning than I can remember feeling in a long time."

There was silence for a while, then a snigger or two from the girls that Fred didn't understand, but finally decided didn't have anything to do with him.

When they reached the bottom of the drive, Jeff turned right. "We're going to slow-jog for a hundred yards, then walk twenty steps, then jog again. We'll continue to jog/walk until we reach the half-mile marker. I put a spot of yellow spray paint on the side of the pavement. Then back the same way. We'll add a mile a week. Before long, you'll be distance runners."

"Yeah, right," Fred grumbled. "And tomorrow, I win the lottery," but he started out with everybody else, grinning from ear to ear.

Surprising everyone, and himself more, Fred kept up.

Later, Margaret bumped her hip against Frank. "Must be all that exercise we've been doing," she teased as she walked around him as they crammed themselves into the Escalade, sitting on each other's laps for the ride up the driveway. Frank just chuckled as she squirmed on the growing bulge in his shorts.

After the ending stretches, Jeff said, "Let's go eat breakfast."

Inside they found Kathy and Captain Madison in animated conversation in the living room. A laptop was setting on a table with a shot of the moose showing.

"Wow," Helen said, "That is an excellent shot." She went over and hit the icon to show the picture at actual size then centered it on a bull moose that seemed to be looking straight at the camera from only about twenty feet away. "Excellent," she said again. "Looks like we have a photographer among us. Which one of you took this?"

"He did," Kathy laughed.

"Hey, it wasn't me. It's the camera. I just put it on automatic, zoomed in as much as I could and braced myself across the hood of the Escalade with the camera on its bag."

Helen paged through the rest of the pictures. "Well, camera or operator, or both, there are some beautiful pictures here. Who took this of the two of you at the lake?"

"See, I told you it was the camera," Bill joked. "It was just a couple that stopped by and shot it for us."

"Nevertheless," Helen said, motioning for the others to look at the picture, "the lake with the mirror image of the trees and the snow-capped peak in the background is beautiful, and you two look like you're having fun," she teased.

Kathy came to Bill's rescue with, "Oh, we had a great time, and met some nice people. We only got about halfway across the mountain. We stopped and saw everything as we went. But it would probably take us several days to go through the whole park, let alone hike the trails. We didn't do any hiking at all, and I know there are bound to be some beautiful trails there."

When Kathy realized that the women were leaving to go to the kitchen, she said, "I need to go help with breakfast."

"No, you don't," Jeff tried to tell her. "You're our guest," but she was gone before he had hardly gotten started.

The men settled back to wait for breakfast. "Captain, make you flight arrangements so you'll be back here sometime Friday. Preferably not too late. You and Kathy can stay the weekend here, then fly us home Monday morning."

"Uh..."

"Oh, I'm inviting you to stay the weekend," Jeff laughed. "We've already talked about it. Frank says you two have been working too much lately, and since you have to come down and pick them up anyway, we might as well make a weekend out of it. You and Kathy can pick up on your tour of the park, or heck, we'll get you out on the range for some fun — anything you want to do."

"Well, I qualified with a 9 mm in the Air Force, and as I told you, I shoot a little on my own, but that little bit won't compare with what you're teaching, Jeff. I'd probably make a fool out of myself."

"I doubt that," Jeff said. "Still if you want to shoot, we can just go out and do that, just a couple of us guys."

Bill smiled at Jeff, "We heard two of the workers talking when they came in a few minutes ago. They are impressed with the way the women shoot. As in very impressed."

Jeff grinned back at him. "Wait a week or two more, then they'll be impressed."



-------

Chapter 28


Later, they were called to breakfast. The women had set up the bar again, so everyone grabbed a plate and went after their choice of foods. "I'm going to miss this great food," Captain Madison said as he filled his plate. He raised his voice a little, "And to all you ladies who cooked and made us feel like family, I want you to know that we appreciated it. But if I keep eating like I have since we got here, I'll have to start running with you in the mornings; otherwise, I won't fit into that pilot's seat," he joked.

"Oh, so you like our southern cooking?" Helen said, her voice teasing, now including herself in with the southern women.

"I even liked the spinach. I always try to eat a little of it if it's on the table. I guess it's a bit of the Popeye syndrome, or something. My mom always told me it was good for me, so I forced it down when I was a kid."

Helen sniggered a little, then the girls picked it up. Madison just looked quizzical.

"Those were turnip greens with a little kale mixed in," Laura said as she walked past him with a plate of food in her hand, headed for the table.

"But, I don't like turnip greens... That couldn't have been."

"Let's just say that those didn't come out of a can. I wouldn't eat the ones from a can, either," Diana said as she walked past the captain.

A few minutes later, Jennie led the prayer of thanks.

"Oh, by the way," Madison said, "Kathy and I stopped by a little country restaurant yesterday morning. It's called, uh..."

"... Martha's," Kathy supplied.

"... The food was pretty darn good. The owner/cook/waitress said she recognized the Escalade. She told us to ask the pretty ladies to stop by, and..."

"... to bring that 'hunk' of a driver with you," Kathy broke in, grinning at Jeff.

"She introduced us to grits," Madison continued. "She said she used to live in the south, and has a number of her customers eating the things now."

"I thought they were good," Kathy said, "but Bill was less than enthused with them."

"There's some at the far end of the bar, there," Diana teased. "Sure you don't want some, Bill?"

"I don't really dislike them. They're just a little too bland for me. But that's about the only thing that I don't like about southern cooking, even your turnip greens," he chuckled.

Jeff has already gotten Diana aside and told her about inviting Madison and Kathy for next weekend, and why. "Maybe we should have a pool party while you two are here on the weekend," Diana said. "I have a butcher who has a deal with a local rancher for some of the best meat you have ever put in your mouth."

"Amen to that." Dave said. "I don't know what that guy does to his beef, but she's not kidding about how good it is."

"We were just a little worried about imposing on you people," Kathy said. "You've gone out of your way for us. Loaned us your great vehicle, fed us, entertained us, even allowed us to come to your special event. And again, that was a beautiful wedding, and we were touched that you would invite us. We could just pick Mr. Wainwright and Margaret up next Monday..."

"You two better be careful. When you cross her, she tends to come sit in your lap and lecture you," Dave said as he got up for fruit to go with his breakfast.

"Well, they don't call me the boss bitch for nothing," Diana laughed. "Seriously, you two are always welcome here, and that's not just a standard remark with nothing behind it. You have a standing invitation, and a sincere one — any time. Oh, by the way, why don't you bring your daughter with you? She would be more than welcome, unless of course, you wouldn't want her around our plural marriage. We would understand that. But if you do decide to bring her, I'm sure that she and the girls would have a ball with the video games, or even the ATV's, if you allow her to ride them."

Bill looked at Kathy. "I did mention to Kathy that I thought Linda would enjoy the Rockies." He glanced over at Wainwright as if to ask permission.

"Don't you dare ask me. I'm not in charge of that plane. I think it would be good for her to get away for a weekend, not to say anything about getting to be with her dad. I know you haven't had much time with her lately."

Bill looked at the smiling faces around him, and just before he responded, Arlene said, "Captain Madison, we're Jeff's wives, but we're still teenagers, too. We'll make sure she has a good weekend, and feels welcome. Besides," she joked, "we would love to introduce someone new to that thrill hill. She'll love the sensation when you go airborne on the four-wheeler."

Madison didn't look as pleased as Arlene, however.

"She's just messing with you, Bill." Well, I think she's messing with you,  Jeff added to himself remembering how the girls drove those things.

"I'm sure she would be delighted to come. And she could use some time away from home," Madison added. "Thanks. We'll plan on it."

Laura got up to whisper into Jeff's ear for a moment, then turned to the rack of keys on the wall. Taking a set down, she handed them to Madison. "There's a brand-new green Escalade in the garage. Just park it and keep the keys. Then you'll have a vehicle waiting for you Friday when you come in. I don't know what the general aviation side charges for parking a car, but just pay for it with the credit card in the glove compartment. It's our corporate account."

Bill opened his mouth to protest, worrying about how much it might cost to park for five days, but belatedly realized how trivial the amount would be to these people. Instead, he said, "Thanks. That would be great. We really appreciate it."

The security system went off with a quiet "bong." The picture on the big monitor above the cabinets at the other end of the kitchen switched its view to the bottom of the driveway where two Sheriff's vehicles had just turned in. Shortly the shot zoomed in on the first vehicle's windshield. Light reflection off the glass restricted the view of the deputy at the wheel, but the system changed something and his image suddenly became crystal clear with only a hint of the windshield showing.

A green rectangle surrounded his face, and "UNKNOWN #1" formed in red under the deputy's image. The same thing happened to the other vehicle and driver, this one a woman, with "UNKNOWN #2" displayed.

Wainwright looked at Jeff. "They sent two deputies. Have you done anything I don't know about?" he joked. "Every time I see those folks, they're bringing me papers that I sometimes don't like."

Jeff chuckled. "I doubt if this is bad news. We bought the Sheriff's Department some vests a while back, and I haven't seen any of the deputies since then. As the cars drew nearer the top of the drive, he got up from the table. "I'll go meet them."

Startling everyone, Diana said, "Bring them in for breakfast if they haven't eaten. Otherwise, just bring them in to get acquainted."

I would have thought that she wouldn't want the deputies to find out too much about us. Plural marriages are frowned upon most everywhere. But heck, inviting them in seems right to me too,  Jeff thought as he acknowledged his wife and left the kitchen.

The deputies pulled through the front circle and parked. Getting out, they stood for a moment looking at the massive building.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" deputy Cramer asked deputy Goodman.

"Well, you saw the mailbox, just like I did. But shit, I was expecting a house. This thing is..."

"Whatever it is, it looks expensive," Cramer said, urging her companion to go on up the walk.

As they started to ring the bell, the speaker beside the door said, "Just come on in and take the elevator to the next floor. Someone will meet you," the female voice finished.

"Damn," Goodman hissed as he opened the door to find opulence in the vestibule, with furniture that he couldn't even guess at the price. A discrete registration desk took up one back corner with a deep wine carpet that was different from any the deputy had ever seen.

"There's the elevator," Cramer said.

"Damn," Goodman said again. "They have a fucking elevator to get into their house?"

As they got on and the elevator door closed, she said, "That's good Goodman. Now you've just proven you redneck status to these people. Ten to one they have heard everything we've said. I'm not with him. He's on his own," she said to the walls of the elevator, raising her voice and laughing.

Just as Goodman glared at her, the elevator door opened. As they stepped out into a hallway that seemed to go on forever, they saw Jeff walking toward them. "That looks like the guy the Sheriff described at roll call. Shit, Goodman, don't you fuck up and say something stupid. We shouldn't even be here. This was a bad idea," she whispered out of the side of her mouth while they waited for Jeff to approach.

Deciding to preempt Goodman before he embarrassed the both of them more, as Jeff drew near, the female deputy stuck out her hand. "Good morning, Sir. I hope we're not imposing by coming by without calling first. This is deputy Goodman, and I'm deputy Cramer."

Jeff shook hands with both of them, noting that the male deputy's hand was sweaty. "I'm Jeff Matthews. What can I do for you?" he said. Before they could answer, he went on. "Oh, and my wife said for me to invite you to breakfast with us if you haven't eaten yet." She has got to be the prettiest deputy I have ever seen. She would even come close to my wives.

"Sir, we didn't come to impose on you. We had a call not too far away from here. Goodman got sent to back me up, and when we finished, we got to talking, and we decided to drive up here to thank you for the vests."

"Well," Jeff answered, brightening, "You're certainly welcome. Now come on down to the kitchen. We're midway through our meal. There's plenty of room and plenty of food. Have you eaten?"

"Uh, no Sir," Goodman said finally finding his voice. "We left out of roll call to answer the call, but we were going to check out to eat in a little while at one of the restaurants."

"Come on. I insist. My wife will kill me, if you don't." Seeing their hesitation, he grinned and said, "Hey guys. I used to be a reserve in a small town just outside Atlanta. I shot on their pistol team for a while. Please don't stereotype us, just because of what you're standing in. We've worked hard for a living for years. We just lucked out. Now come on down to the kitchen where we eat the most of our meals, and meet everyone. I guarantee that you're welcome. I've got some questions to ask you, anyway."

The two deputies looked at each other. "You talked us into it, Sir," Goodman replied, "but could we use your phone so we can check out to eat? That way we won't get a call in the middle of breakfast. They had rather we didn't put that on the radio."

Jeff said, "Sure. Come on down to the living room. You can use the phone there."

When they stepped through the doorway, they just stopped and stood. He had to call them twice before they acknowledge him. "There's a phone on the table there that you can use. I'll be waiting in the hallway for you."

When Jeff left, Goodman grabbed Cramer and whispered in her ear. "Shit, look at this place. This is a living room? You could play a basketball game in here. And that's the biggest piece of glass I've ever seen. Shit, I'll bet they gave more for that TV than I did for my car. What the hell kind of place is this, anyway?"

"Crap, I don't know. There's a desk marked 'registration' where we came in. Maybe it's a hotel, or something. Call in; he's waiting for us."

As Jeff stood in the hallway, waiting, he was almost sad. Even though he was well away from the door, he had heard enough of the deputies' conversation to bring back memories. We've become accustomed to even this beautiful place. When we first got here, I was so messed up emotionally, that I really couldn't appreciate the retreat. And now that we've been here a while, it just seems like home. But just a little while back, and I would have been just like them — overawed at this profusion of wealth. They were nice enough to come by to personally thank us for the vests, but now they're probably wishing they hadn't. But Diana will pick up on it and do everything she can to make them welcome.

A couple of moments later, Jeff and the deputies walked into the kitchen. As Jeff introduced them, Goodman looked around the room. Cramer is the best looking woman I've ever laid eyes on — well, was until now. Damn, is there a good-looking woman left in the state? They must all be here this morning. Oh, shit. I'll say something stupid for sure, just like I act around Cramer. Oh shit. Quit thinking about the women. If my dick gets hard... Listen to their names. Memorize their names. That might help.

"... And last, but certainly not least, this is Dave and Evie, my project manager and his assistant. They live here with us and are part of our extended family," Jeff finished.

Arlene and Ann got up and went to the steam table when Jeff said the deputies had checked out to eat with them. As Jeff and Diana escorted the deputies over, the girls handed them plates, asked what they wanted to drink, then left them alone. As they worked their way around the table to the back side, Goodwin quietly said to Cramer. "They act like nice people. The only rich people I've been around was on duty, and they made me wait in some kind of vestibule for fifteen minutes before they graced me with their presence to make out a stolen car report."

"Yeah, and I'll bet those bastards wouldn't give a hundred grand for all of us to have these top-of-the-line vests, either," she hissed back. Looking at his rounded up plate, she said, "Damn, Goodman. Are you going to eat all that?"

"Put some more food on your plate," he quietly said. "Look around you. Do you see any maids running around in cute little uniforms, or anybody that looks like a chef? Ten to one these people just cooked this food. They don't have much of one, but that accent is southern. Southern people like for you to eat their cooking; it's a sign of respect, or something. You'll insult them with that little bit on your plate," he finished as he spooned on more scrambled eggs and added another hotcake to her huge platter she had been handed for a plate.

Cramer stood stunned for a second. Goodman always stepped on his tongue around her, but she thought he might just be right. When they got back to the enormous table, something had happened. There was now a vacant place on each side between two teenagers. They were ushered to their seats and the girls poured it on, laughing and cutting up with them.

Diana brought more coffee for her husband, then whispered in his ear. "Those two won't know what hit them, but I'm afraid that Goodman won't be able to stand up when they get through with him. I'll get the girls away from them for a while before they're ready to leave. Give things a chance to go down," she quietly said, kissing him on the cheek and continuing on her rounds.

When conversation died down, Goodman spoke up. "Mr. and Mrs. Matthews, we want you to know that we appreciate your inviting us to eat with you. The food is delicious, and there's so much of it, that we don't have room to even taste half of it. But the reason we stopped by was to personally tell you thank you for the vests. I apologize if I've acted a little like a country bumpkin. I was raised on a ranch not too far from here, and well, this is a truly beautiful place. I know the sheriff will probably send you a letter, but we wanted to make it a little more personal than that. Then you welcomed us into your beautiful home. Again, thank you."

Cramer sat looking across the table at Goodman. Wow. Maybe there's hope for this guy after all. But when I talk to him, he can't say his name without stammering.

After acknowledging the thanks, Jeff changed the subject. "Do you have a pistol team in the department?"

Goodman glanced at Cramer, and she answered. "Yeah, we have one. I'm on it and I'm the best shot. Which means that we're locked in at the bottom of the score sheets. Because I can't shoot worth a crap," she laughed.

"Actually, she's pretty good," Goodman contradicted. "But the department can't afford to help them much. One of the deputies has a small press, and they've been loading their own ammo, but even then, they don't get much practice."

Jeff raised his voice: "Computer! Range!"

The big monitor shifted to a view of the range as the computer acknowledged with a higher pitched "bong."

"Computer! Zoom 2." The range filled the screen.

"They've even got turf," Cramer said aloud without realizing it, then "Hey, you've got trees. And they look like factory-made. One of our deputies welds, and he made us one, but you have to pick the plates up off the ground and put them back on the arms after you shoot."

"These reset themselves," Arlene said, sitting next to her. "You should see Dad shoot them with his fast draw rig."

"You shoot in the Cowboy Action?" Cramer asked, turning to Jeff.

"Well, I used to a little, but not anymore. But if you would like to bring your team up here, we could work something out for you to use the range from time to time."

That got her attention. "It will be a couple of weeks for Anderson to make us enough ammo in his spare time. But I know the guys would like to practice on the plates."

"We're shooting on the range right now, and will be for another week or two, pretty constantly. I want all my family to be able to defend themselves. But after that, we would be glad to have you. Just jot down our number before you leave, and give us a call when you're ready."

"Mr. Matthews, we would really appreciate that. Shooting those trees would help us a lot, and gosh, you have all kinds of stuff out there in addition to a conventional range."

Jeff chuckled. "It's so new that we haven't even shot everything out there. Evie and Dave just finished it a couple of days ago, and now, Evie is starting an indoor range in the basement."

Goodman grinned at Jeff. "Before long, it's going to be really cold up here, not to mention how deep the snow is going to get. That indoor range will really be nice then."

A little later, the deputies announced that they had to leave, thanked the Matthews again, used the phone to put themselves back in service, and were gone.

The women got up to take up the food while the men stacked the dirty dishes in the sinks. "We saw you looking at her, Jeff," Diana teased, "but she truly is a beautiful woman."

"Mother," Arlene said, drawing out the word. "He has seven wives now. He doesn't need any more."

"Boy, that's for sure," Jeff laughed, which earned him a mock frown from the women.

"Oh, does that mean that you have problems with the ones you have?" Laura teased, but Jeff wasn't dead sure that she was teasing.

"I have seven beautiful wives that I love dearly," he quickly said. "And I'm getting out of here before I get into trouble."

"And we've got to go," Bill said, laughing.

"Thank you so much for inviting us," Kathy said, "And I guess we'll see you Friday night."

"Not, too late, either," Wainwright said, looking at the captain. "And tell that young lady that I'm looking forward to seeing her. It's been too long."

Shortly, they were watching the image of Laura's Escalade as it went down the drive. Evie and Dave left, claiming they were already late.

Jeff looked over at Frank. "I'm going to be an hour or so discussing something with my wives."

Frank grinned at Margaret, "We could probably find something to take up our time until you're ready for us on the range," he said.

Margaret blushed, but got up and left with him, arm in arm.

"Well, I've got some phone calls to make," Fred said, grinning at Jeff.

The women gave him a look, but Jeff just poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down to wait, having learned that helping past sitting the dishes in the sink was usually considered as being in the way.

They did their magic in the kitchen, then walked up to him as a group. "Well?" they said in unison.

Jeff groaned. If they practiced it, he hadn't noticed it. He reached down and flipped Diana over his shoulder, then grabbed Arlene around the waist and pulled her against him. "Let's all go to our bedroom where we can relax and be together. I have an apology to make to Diana and Arlene," he mysteriously said as he walked out the door, all his wives following, looking at each other with questioning looks, Diana trying to get him to put her down.

In the bedroom, he put Diana gently on the bed, then tenderly kissed each of his women. "Everyone, get comfortable," he said. "This will probably take a while. I want to tell it all."

They wound up with Jeff sitting against the head of the bed, Diana and Arlene sitting beside him snuggled in his arms, with the others gathered close by, some sitting, others lying on the bed.

"What's this all about?" Diana asked. "You haven't done anything to apologize for. We were just teasing you about the pretty deputy."

"Oh, it's not anything about her. This goes back a ways, and well; let me try to start at the beginning. Unfortunately, there are some key things that I won't be able to talk about, but here goes.

"In case some of you haven't noticed, the healer has been on my shoulders all morning, spread out under my shirt." Everyone nodded, acknowledging, although most of them hadn't noticed. "Well, anyway, she and I had a long conversation this morning. Now, lest I misdirect you, let me hasten to clarify that. The healer is alien, as I've reminded you before. She doesn't use words per se, nor does she have a 'conversation' with me, as we would normally use the word. But I don't have a word for what we do."

Jeff hesitated, gathering his thoughts. "Her masters, builders, whoever, were telepathic. That, I'm certain of. She had never conversed with a non-telepathic being; had no ability to do so. She has expanded herself, her programming, her brain, to accomplish what she has done. And I still don't really know what she is. I do know that she is sentient. She apparently thinks of herself as a person — a being. She is, of course, a healer. But she wasn't designed for us. She is, however, extremely intelligent as far as I can determine, and 'lives' to fulfill her programming, or purpose."

"You've told us all this before," Helen quietly said.

"Yeah, I know, but I thought a reminder might be a little help, if only for getting my thoughts together a little better. Anyway, just because we, or I, in the beginning, were not exactly like the species she was programmed to heal, apparently mattered little for general healing. She has the wherewithal to quickly determine what she needs to know about us. She healed a small cut I had on my arm shortly after I noticed her. Her main reason was to show me what her purpose was. Well, it worked, and I could feel her, I guess, for lack of a better term, and she noticed something about me."

The women glanced at each other, their expressions momentarily changing to smirks, but Jeff continued, "Not too long after that, Diana had a terrible experience. We both knew she was in trouble when the doctor sent her to the specialist. He showed us the x-rays, and sat us down to talk. And yes, I know that she told you most of this, but please bear with me for a little while. Well, the specialist told us that the break was at about the worst place it possibly could be as to healing. He said he had a twelve-year-old boy that was now in his fourteenth week from a break in almost the same place, with no appreciable bone growth across the break. An adult would generally heal even slower. The problem was that there was very little blood supply to that part of the ankle."

He smiled down at his first wife. "Diana was in unrelenting pain. All the pain medicine made her sick to her stomach. I watched my wife suffer," he said, leaning down and kissing the top of her head, "until I couldn't stand it any longer."

"I never believed there could be that much pain," Diana added. "It just went on and on. It finally got to me. I cried like a baby. Apparently, I'm allergic to most pain meds. Almost everything made me sick to my stomach, broke me out, or made me feel strange. I was really a basket case, as they say."

Jeff sighed, hugging her. "Now comes the part where I have to be very careful. Even so, I'm treading on dangerous ground. I told Diana that I had a hurry-up job, lucked up and got a flight that I only had to change planes once, then took a puddle jumper. I made a call and was picked up by helicopter. What I described isn't supposed to happen. Not that way. I was already in trouble, but I didn't care. I was going after the healer — that particular healer — and nothing was going to stop me.

"I... made my pitch and... made a deal." Jeff sat thinking as his wives quietly watched him. Yeah, I made a deal, all right. Two teams made it to that mountain and didn't come back. I agreed to lead a team with remnants of my old team included, to try again — twice. I had been on that planet before, and had come back. I could do it again.

"For reasons unknown to me, other than to perhaps prove he could, I was put on an F-15, told I could only carry the healer with me — concealed of course. That pilot lit out on afterburner and kept it there most of the way, except for a midair refueling. When we hit the ground, there was a staff car and driver waiting for me. He dropped me at the front door. My bag came via UPS five days later.

"I knew I was going to have to pay the piper, but in the meantime, the healer was going to get a shot at healing my wife's leg."

Diana had tensed up. "Oh, God, Jeff. What did you promise those people?"

"I... can't tell you."

"Screw that," Diana said raising up and turning around so she could look her husband in the face. When he wouldn't say anything, she just grabbed him and hugged him, the tears flowing. "Jeff, oh my God. They wouldn't have done that unless the price was high. Oh..."

Diana suddenly sat back up and yanked Jeff's tee-shirt up in the front, exposing his chest. She tapped the small round scar on his right chest with her fingernail. "That was the cost, wasn't it? And there's one on your back. That bullet went through you, didn't it?"

Shifting back a little, she said, "Sit up Jeff. I want to see your back."

"Baby, the healer is covering it. You know what it looks like, anyway," he softly said.

"That was a rifle round wasn't it? It went straight through you. Was it a sniper?" she suddenly said, looking at him.

"Now what difference does it make? You know I can't talk about it. Everything we're talking about is a done deal. Long over with."

The other wives looked at each other, Laura and Helen whispering, then hushed as Diana continued.

"They sent you home in a hurry so you could use the healer on me, and you could be back quickly to them. What kind of mission was it? Why couldn't they send someone else? Or had they already sent someone else?"

Jeff sighed. "Di, Baby. You're getting upset about something that's long over. Now we're talking about the healer..."

"No, we're not," she insisted, staring at him. "We're talking about them letting you have the healer for a price. Was that price in blood, Jeff? Why didn't they send someone else? Or had they already sent someone else? Was that it? Someone who failed the mission? Someone who died attempting the mission? That's it, isn't it?"

Shit, how in the hell does she come up with stuff like this? And she's dancing too close to the truth.

Tears were pouring down Diana's face now, the rest of the women starting to show tears in sympathy as they gathered closer to Diana. Arlene was hanging onto him like he was going to run away or something. Diana's face set. "You took a fucking suicide mission to get the healer assigned to you, didn't you? Didn't you?"

Jeff just grabbed her and held on. "Easy Baby. Easy," he kept saying as she cried and tried to hit his arm at the same time.

He held her and rocked her, rubbing her back, saying over and over, "Easy Baby, Easy. You're overreacting. It's all over. I came back. I would never take a suicide mission. We have the healer. Easy Baby." Arlene hung onto both of them, everyone crying in earnest now while they gathered around to try and console Diana.

Melissa brought a glass of water and a damp cloth. Eventually Diana calmed down enough for Jeff to continue.

"Diana's ankle was healed, very quickly. I suspect. She told you about that," he said to the others. "And the doctor was amazed, hell, more than that. He couldn't even find the break on the x-rays. But now let's think a minute, and this, in part, comes from the healer this morning as I made my run. She first had me to 'analyze, ' although that word isn't even close to what I suspect she is capable of. And she had come to realize that I was... something — someone — who was similar or had a similar position in her people, her society. They were overlords, or controllers, something like that. And you're going to like this Laura. She said your term of Alpha Male would suffice, though it wasn't completely correct."

"So, she recognized our Alpha Male?" Laura said smiling. "Smart girl." There was a titter from the other wives, particularly the girls. Ann kidded him about being a cherry picker, and man enough to destroy her armor-plated hymen.

Finally, Jeff cleared his throat and went on. "Now the healer had a female to analyze. And even at that point, she could recognize Diana as my mate. According to her, she used a couple of nanoseconds to analyze the break and start the healing process. I really have no idea what her time was, although we tried to compare things and agreed it was a very short period of time. Anyway, since very little of her mental processes were occupied with the healing of Diana's ankle, she turned to analyzing Diana's 'systems.'"

After the chuckle, he continued. "Those 'systems' were quite different, and intriguing. Having already figured out the male reproductive process, she now had an example — even my mate — to analyze the opposite processes that we used as human beings to produce our young. But first, she found many things wrong with the various systems that go to make up our bodies, specifically, this time a female of our species. It was obvious to her that things were not at their optimum. One thing was particularly intriguing. Diana's cells, just like mine had been, were not making exact duplicates of themselves as they reproduced.

"It was obvious that gradually over time, the body would cease to function entirely. Healing was her purpose in life. Here was a body, just as mine had been, that needed a lot of healing. She set out to do so. All of that couldn't be done quickly, so she set in motion processes that would culminate in achieving her goal about the cells. But the lungs, heart, liver, endocrine system, digestive system, the entire organism, everything was far from optimum. Our bodies' design, while simpler than the beings she had been created to heal, were obviously not designed with these flaws, originally. Each organ, each system, and subsystem had flaws — needed to be optimized. Well there was only one thing to do, and she loved to do it. She went to work, all the while analyzing more in depth."

Jeff stopped for a moment, looking around at his wives who were obviously now paying rapt attention.

Just as he started to continue, Helen spoke up. "Jeff, you mention imperfect reproduction of our cells and implied that the healer has corrected that, if I understand you correctly, both from what you have said today, and from what you have told us previously. If our cells are perfectly reproducing, then how long will we live? Are we immortal?"

There was first a titter from the girls, then sudden, total quiet.

Jeff cleared his throat. "I've tried to ask the healer that. I can't really understand her answer, but I think that she means that we will live a very long time. Just how long is beyond my ability to understand her. There are complications, and some type of stipulations attached to her answer. I'm sorry. That's the best I can do with our present understanding of each other."

After a short period, he continued with his story. "After a while, when all of the healer's brain was no longer needed, she came back to the reproductive system. Fascinated, she found a bundle of nerves near the bottom of Diana's reproductive tract and traced them back to the brain. There were many branchings, though some were obtuse, connected this little bundle of nerves to the glands that produced milk for the young. Well, more specifically, to the outside of the breasts to areas that had to be designed for the young to obtain the milk from — her nipples."

There were a couple of soft giggles as the girls looked at each other.

"If the nerves and connections were there in the original design, then enhancing them would follow, since some of the connections could be better routed, and expanded as well. She set about doing this, and that little bundles of nerves was not working at top efficiency, so she corrected that as well."

There was quiet for a moment, then Arlene started to giggle. Jeff looked down at her, then at the other women who were grinning, as well. "She 'optimized' Mom's clitoris and her nipples," Arlene said, "and made sure the connections worked better."

Diana made a sound, and her face and neck flushed.

Jeff kissed the top of her head. "Yeah. That's what I got out of it, too," he said, fighting a chuckle. "But I did something else. I thought while I had the healer, that I would put her on you, too, Arlene. I wasn't quite sure what she did, but I knew she healed, so I just did it."

Arlene turned her head in order to see Jeff better, and grinned at him.

"Now it only took her that small increment of time to determine that this female was the offspring of my mate and myself. The healer still isn't very good with names, or even the concept. She said it wasn't necessary with a telepathic species, and tried to show me why, but I think that is about as hard for me to realize, as names are for her. Anyway, she was thrilled to be able to 'analyze' our offspring, and of course she found the same things wrong with Arlene, immediately beginning the processes to rectify the problems."

Jeff looked down at the two wives in his arms. "Over a period of time, I put the healer on Diana and Arlene several times. The healer resided in a drawer in my dresser, very close to our bed. She observed Diana and I making love many times, and now thoroughly familiar with our reproductive organs, she knew that we should have started to reproduce the first month, since Diana and I made love while she was fertile.

"Somewhere along the line, she realized that I was wearing a protective device (condom) to keep my sperm from entering my mate. After consideration, the next time she was allowed contact with Diana, then later, Arlene, she stopped their eggs from maturing. The process wasn't permanent. She, of course, could reverse it immediately, or it would revert itself in a period of time that I think she means is about a year."

Diana looked up at him, "So that was also done to Helen, and the rest of us. That's the reason our Alpha Male hasn't gotten us pregnant."

"Yes," Jeff sighed, "but that's not the reason that I have to apologize, and the healers does, as well, through me. Oh, she didn't 'say' it in just that manner, but she kept emphasizing the point until I finally realized what she meant. I should have realized it sooner. I feel like a fool. And Diana, my love, things could have been so much easier on you, had I realized, and to a lesser extent, you too, my daughter."

"What are you taking about? Husband, no one could have been better to us. You saved me from all that pain. Maybe walking with a brace for no telling how many years. You didn't..."

"She enhanced your sexuality, Diana. You, too, Arlene."

"So she made us prettier, I guess," Diana started to say. "She made me younger looking..." The other wives joined in, particularly Helen and Laura who were thrilled with what the healer had done with them.

Jeff shook his head, looking around at his other wives, then to Diana, "Stop and think what I said she did, Darling. The healer had to hit me over the head with it, too. And she is just now beginning to fathom my memories and emotions well enough to figure it out herself. As odd as it sounds sitting here just talking, stop and think about our sex together. All of you," he expanded, looking at the rest, as well.

"We've had conversations before about my so-called wonderful lovemaking. You've compared me to other men, where one occasionally manages to do such a good job that he overloads his lover's senses until she faints. But all of you do it regularly, and give me all the credit."

"That's because we're married to our Alpha Male," Jennie said, leaning over to rub her hand down Jeff's leg.

Jeff smiled at her and touched her hand. "There's an occasional woman, according to what I've read, who has orgasms when her nipples are stimulated — occasional. I have seven."

There wasn't a dummy in the house. Jeff could see the dawning on Helen and Laura's faces. But Diana and Arlene were refusing to make the connection, still blaming themselves.

"To use one of my southernisms again, Jack was shooting over a 'baited field.' The healer 'optimized' all of Diana and Arlene's 'systems.' That included their reproductive systems — which included their nipples and clits. Already somewhat enhanced genetically to have milk in their breasts, now their erogenous zones were 'optimized.' And if I know the healer, she didn't stop there, she tends to have some of Wainwright's traits," he grinned. "She probably made them a little better than 'optimized.'"

Squeezing Diana's shoulder, he continued, "When you, my darling, walked into that kitchen, you were as you told me in detail, already highly excited — had been ever since you saw our daughter being fucked on that picnic table. And I wasn't around to relieve that tension, let alone help with what was going on.

"Your body was driving you crazy. You had taken your bra off. Those wonderful big nipples of yours were poking that top out. Jack saw them, remembered what Arlene said about giving milk, put a hand behind you to keep you from backing up, and pulled on your nipples, then sucked them. Feeling many more times the sensation than a normal woman would, you didn't have a chance — your body took over. And those nipples were now hardwired to your clitoris. Sucking on your nipples produced orgasms and readied you for sex, probably more so than any woman ever has been.

"And Arlene, my beautiful daughter-wife," he said, turning to her still in his arms, "practically the same thing happened to you. You could withstand Arnie's fumbling advances, but Jack pulled on your nipples and rubbed your clit. Again to use a worn-out phrase, he was shooting over a 'baited field' with you too. You stood no chance. Your brain was responding to an onslaught of stimulus that it couldn't resist."

Jeff took a deep breath. "So I owe the both of you. And the healer even now, is sending me something that I know is her version of an apology that she wants me to convey to you. I was a fool. I should have figured this out long ago. Instead, I was patting myself on the back for being such a good lover that my women had many, many orgasms. All I had to do was to gently pull on their nipples and concentrate on my woman having an orgasm, and they did. They would receive me anywhere, anytime if I wanted sex. I could just pick someone up, carry her to a room, pull her clothes down and bend her over a bed. She would receive me, and orgasm. Then tell me how great I was," he finished, his voice barely audible, "while my first wife and daughter beat themselves up for betraying me.

"I humbly apologize. I don't know what else to say." He hugged them to him, tears in his eyes.

Laura watched for a while, then said. "Okay, Jeff. I think we all agree that it wasn't Diana or Arlene's fault. But hey, we've known that for a long time. Oh, not about what the healer did, but because we know Di and Arlene," she said, squeezing Diana's hand and smiling at Arlene. "But now we know exactly what happened, and why Jack was able to do what he did. But..." she waited, looking around her at the other wives, "but I have a little something to add to what you've said, and I'm also going to contradict something that you said while you were trashing yourself.

"So to extrapolate from what you said and be a little more blunt about it, any guy can come in, grab us by our nipples, rub our clit, and we'll cum for him. Bullshit!" As she looked around her, she knew that she had one hundred percent agreement. Helen was actually sniggering. "Ain't gonna happen! Right wives?"

There was instant and adamant agreement.

"Well, I didn't mean..."

"Oh, we know what you meant," Laura said, her voice now soft. "But, Diana's problems were there, and intense. She was already sexually excited, but don't ever think that we would be a pushover for any man. Particularly now that we know what happened. But you've put yourself down with this. You can make it up to Diana and Arlene. Maybe you three need some time alone together. But let's come back to that later.

"You said something a while ago, that we've all noticed from time to time. 'Finish her Jeff.' Heard that before? Or something like it. How many times do you 'finish' us when you have thought we've had enough? Hmmm? What's this 'concentrate' you just slipped up and mentioned. Now that it's any surprise to us. We all know you can do it. Our Alpha Male that we always know where he is, and a lot of the time what he's doing, especially if it involves sex — emotions."

Laura's expression changed, became more intense. "What about the morning the bear hit you? Reckon that was an emotion? Hmmm? You bet your ass it was. So you diddle us a while, concentrate and bang, we cum. How long did it take you to come to that conclusion, my Darling? Something we've known for a while now, even joked about in front of you from time to time."

Smiling, she hugged the two wives. "Diana and Arlene need to put away their guilt for what happened in Georgia," she said, then kissed each lightly on the lips. Turning back to Jeff, "You owe the rest of us nothing. We've not your slaves because the healer has enhanced us sexually, and other ways. We love you. We can't say no to you because of that love. Oh, sure, you're sexy as hell, and no woman in her right mind, unless committed to another, would consider telling you no. But we bend over and accept that wonderful cock inside us because we love you and we want it inside us, not because our clits have a few more nerve endings firing at optimum, than most women have."

She pushed between Diana and Arlene and kissed Jeff hard. The others took their turns kissing him and talking a little, then Laura stood. "We're," she said looking at her sister-waves, "going to leave you three alone for a little while." Now standing by the bed, she leaned over and curled her finger under Jeff's chin, causing him to grin, "When you come out of this bedroom, we don't want to hear any more of this bullshit. We're not little robots who love to suck your dick. We're your wives," she said, laughing, "... who love to suck your dick," the laugh turning into a giggle as she and the others quickly left the room.

The three spent the next fifteen minutes cuddling and talking quietly — and shedding a few tears, too. But now, Diana could hold her head up a little higher, and Jeff was even more adamant that his wife had always been faithful to him. As they cuddled a few minutes later, Arlene and Diana looked at each other. Both of them had felt the healer. They couldn't really tell what she was saying, but they felt contentment. They looked up at Jeff's eyes, then put their heads back against his, trying to send 'thank you.' The three of them realizing how truly lucky they all were.



-------

Chapter 29

As Captain Madison made the first of the switchbacks, he glanced over at Kathy, whose eyes were locked on the driveway ahead, studiously avoiding the "view." "So, tell me, you don't ever glance down as we take off? Particularly when you were going for your first license in the smaller aircraft, you could have had a heck of a view as you left the runway in the slower planes."

"I do not look down when we take off. I have plenty to do," she said, although her lips fought to grin back at him. "And before you ask, it doesn't seem to bother me when we're landing. I guess I'm too busy concentrating on making it a good landing. But I don't want to look at the ground when we take off. After a few thousand feet, the sensation goes away."

"And the driveway?" Madison said, glancing off into the abyss.

"... Is just fine unless I look down into that..."

"I'm just teasing you, and I guess I shouldn't. But look at the side of this drive. Those steel barriers on the side would stop a tank. I don't think you could run a car off this thing if you tried. Jeff said that the only thing that couldn't come up it was an eighteen-wheeler, because it couldn't make the switchbacks. But the drive is wide, and sloped toward the inside, so even with ice, you would just run into that little ditch against the inside wall."

"It doesn't have to make sense, Bill. It just is. I don't like heights. And I know that sounds ridiculous for a pilot, but I will never like this driveway."

"How about Pikes Peak? We went up there once when we had a layover. I don't remember you saying anything then."

"That's because I was scared speechless. Then, as we were leaving, we were stopped about halfway down for the brake check? The attendant pointed that instrument at our front wheels and told us to wait a while for the brakes to cool before continuing. You could see the heat shimmering from the brakes, even with you putting the transmission in second to help hold back all the way. When I saw those red-hot brakes, they really got my attention. I am never going up that road again."

"Well, I'm not going to tell you what my phobia is."

"Oh, yes you are," she said sitting up, a devilish grin on her face. "Now what is it... ?"

The miles rolled away as they enjoyed their trip, and each other.

-------

Margaret and Frank walked into the living room a little later to find all Jeff's women ready. "Oops," Margaret said, "Let us run get our equipment, and we'll be right back."

When Fred strolled in, cup of coffee in hand, he asked, "What are you going to teach them today?"

"Well, I thought we would start working on a couple of the states' minimum standards courses. Of course, we're going to shoot the courses very slowly. But how about shooting with us?"

Fred thought for a minute. "A little refresher wouldn't hurt the old man," he grinned. "Let me see if I can dig my gunbelt out, and I'll be back in a little while."

As Fred started to walk out of the living room, Jeff said, "If you can't find it, you can always use one of our spares."

Fred stopped and grinned at him. "Then I'd have to use one of your Glocks," he laughed. "I'll find my gunbelt and duty holster, and be right back. You know damn well, I want to shoot my Sig," he said hurrying out the door.

"Is his Sig better than a Glock?" Melissa asked her husband when Fred had left.

"Well, we've touched on this subject before," Jeff said, looking over at her. "That, or a variation of it has been asked, and argued for years. The Glock is simple to shoot, and gets the job done. After you've all become as proficient as I want you to be, you can experiment and pick the weapon you want. But that Glock, — some think it is ugly — is extremely reliable, however. His Sig is arguably more pleasing to the eye. It might even shoot a little tighter group right out of the box without being tuned. But like I said before, when you drop a Glock on concrete, you go 'oops.' When you drop a Sig or most any other high-end all metal pistol on concrete, you go 'ah shit.'"

Jeff paused a moment, then continued, "When all of you are up to speed, and we've tried a number of other weapons, you'll understand more about what I mean. But roughly, the ugly Glock will bounce, and the pretty, complicated metal weapons break, or bend something a little easier."

"Then why do you use your Colt 1911 A-1?" Melissa asked, reasonably.

Jeff just grinned at her and refused to answer.

Diana smiled at her husband. "Bet him a blowjob that he can't shoot the center out of the target from the twenty-five with your Glock," Diana said.

"So, if he shoots the center out, then I lose and have to give him a blowjob. Is that supposed to be punishment?" Melissa asked, grinning.

"No, but it will get the man I love an extra blowjob," Diana said.

"Hah," Melissa laughed. "All he has to do to get that is to unzip his pants. Then again, I'll do that for him, too."

Fred walked in, obviously having heard Melissa, with Frank and Margaret right behind him. "Oh, my old ears may never be the same again," he teased.

Melissa blushed crimson, and Fred chuckled.

Jeff got up. "Well, if everyone is ready, lets head for the range," he said, laughing. He held out a hand to help his young wife out of her seat. "I'll take you up on that at lunch break," he said, chuckling with Fred.

Melissa stuck her tongue out at him and took off to catch up with the other girls who were waiting for her at the door, all of them giggling.

Diana rolled her eyes, took her husband by the arm and followed the rest.

After getting ammunition and targets, they met on the twenty-five. Jeff, of course, had everyone step up to the line and check to make sure their weapons were empty.

As they gathered around, he said, "Everyone has progressed much faster than I anticipated. You should all congratulate yourselves on how quickly you have done this."

Ann held up her hands, palms toward Jeff. "Is that why my blisters have turned to calluses?" she teased, showing the callous from manually pulling the slide back with her left hand when they were dry firing and also on the dummy rounds when they were shooting ball and dummy, plus a small callous on her trigger finger.

"I guess it sure shows that you've done it a lot," Jeff returned, "but seriously, you have done well. It's time to up the ante again. As I mentioned inside, we're going to start working on a couple of states' minimum standards courses. The reason for more than one — before you ask — is simply, variation. Most are good, but there are a few exceptions that I believe focus too much on very close shooting. The 'reasoning' behind that, so I'm told, is that most police handgun fights are within about fifteen feet (5 yard line). But the key there, to me, is the word, most."

He looked around at his students, "I'm not going to decide ahead of time what distance a potential gunfight is going to be, and practice only for that. We've used both one and two hand grips, but mostly stayed with the Weaver stance. Eventually we'll practice other stances. A 'modern isosceles, ' crouch, point shooting, and more. What I've shown you works fine on the range and in low stress conditions. Unfortunately statistics have shown that the Weaver stance, as well as most of the others, when the officer is confronted by a sudden, close threat, is difficult to assume. And officers that have shot well on the range have frequently performed poorly in a gunfight."

He waited a moment for that to sink in. "I'll show you a video on the net when we get back inside that shows a gunfight between an officer and two assailants, taken from the car camera. The officer has a perfect two-handed stance. He missed repeatedly when firing at an assailant only about fifteen feet away. The assailant hit, using a sort of crouching point shoot position, and very little training — none professionally. The officer survived only because of his vest.

"Doctors have told us for years that our fine motor skills, our near focus, and other things leave us when our heart rate goes to the one hundred and fifteen to one hundred and forty-five category, or above — exactly where it is in a gunfight. And don't forget auditory exclusion. Officers have been fired on from close range and never even heard the gunshots from their second assailant, due to audio exclusion, let alone saw him, because of their tunnel vision."

The tone of Jeff's voice deepened as he stressed his words. "In other words, we can't manipulate our weapon well, we can't reload it worth a crap, and we can't even see our sights, let alone line them up, and may not even hear it when another assailant starts firing at us, or even see him. Yet, most police departments continue to teach, line up the sights, front sight equally centered in the rear sights, and top of front sight level with the top of the rear. Exactly what I've taught you on the range so far. If you could, somehow, remain cool, calm and collected during that gunfight, then all of the above would work beautifully..."

Arlene knew her husband wanted someone to ask, so she did. "But Dad, why did you teach us all of that if it won't work when we need it most?"

Grinning at her, realizing that she probably already knew, he said, "Because,  we've got to start somewhere. But we're not going to stop here. We'll learn many stances, and work on those that work best for you. And we'll get your heart rate up so you can practice with it above one hundred and fifteen. You will be amazed what a couple of hard laps around the field before you run the course will do to your score," he chuckled. "When you crawl through that twenty feet of cardboard tunnel, or duck walk, if that works better for you, then run to cover before the target turns — hoping to get to cover before the target turns, anyway — then work through the rest of the obstacle course, you will begin to realize what some of the things I've mentioned really are."

Stopping for a moment, he stared at his feet for a second, almost embarrassed, "We're fortunate. We have a range to be used by us as much as we want. We don't have to share it the way a police officer would that was trying to enhance his or her training. We have enough money to buy all the ammunition we need, and many other things. If none of you ever have to pick up a gun in defense, I'll be tickled. But you're going to be trained as well as I can train you. If anything happens, I'll know that my love ones have the best chance to survive that I can give them."

"Do you really believe that something is going to happen, Dad?"

Jeff's face set, and he didn't answer.

Diana and Arlene met each other's eyes. "Oh, shit," both daughter and mother quietly said in unison.

When some of the other wives looked at her, Diana said, "I'll tell you later."

"Okay," Jeff said, ignoring the women's comments, "Lets go back to the fifty and we'll walk through the course with a dry fire."

Margaret took a step and stopped. "Fifty?" she repeated.

Jeff grinned at her, but talking to all of them, he said, "Don't panic. The first thing the course requires is to 'move' from the fifty to the twenty-five. I guess they wrote it out like that instead of saying 'run' or 'jog' so if someone stumped their toe, they couldn't sue the city, or the minimum standards people. What they mean is to jog from the fifty to the twenty-five to get your heart rate up a little. Of course, unless you're just about eligible for a bypass, it isn't going to stress you much," he joked.

Back at the fifty, "Okay, pick your shooting station, make sure your weapon is secure in your holster, and on my command we'll jog, together to the twenty-five. When we reach there, you will assume your station on the firing line, draw your weapon and commence firing. Fire six rounds right hand barricade, change magazines, kneel, fire six rounds kneeling right hand barricade. Then change magazines again, shift to the left side of the barricade, weapon in your left hand, supported by your right, and fire six rounds left hand barricade. The mandatory magazine changes are to get you more accustomed to changing magazines under stress. Right now, it doesn't seem like stress, but when we go live — it will. And of course, although I've said right or left hand, we'll be using our two-handed grip that I've taught you all through this. The right or left just means the primary hand holding the weapon."

They all jogged down together and the fun began. Even with only dry fire, two of them dropped their magazines as they started to "reload."

When they were done, and had their weapons secured in their holsters, Jeff had them gather around again. "I didn't even say anything about a time — just let you work your way through the course. Of course, with having to rack the slide by hand, you can't really put a time on it. However, once we go to live fire, I'll institute the time restriction."

"What is it?" Frank said.

"One minute for the twenty-five yard line stage, and the time starts at the fifty," Jeff calmly said.

A couple of the women gasped quietly and looked at each other.

"One minute for eighteen rounds from the twenty-five with three different positions, and two magazine changes, plus having to jog from the fifty to the twenty-five?" Ann asked, incredulously.

"Yeah. Piece of cake," Jeff answered, deliberately misinterpreting, and barely keeping the grin off his face.

Fred started laughing. "Hey, you have a hundred pounds less to carry than I do," he joked. "You'll be shooting before my fat butt is halfway to the twenty-five," he lied.

"I think I've just failed," Ann sighed.

"You," Melissa whined, turning to Ann. "You shoot rings around Jen and me. If you think you can't do it, we don't have a chance."

"Whoa, whoa," Jeff said, putting his hands up slightly. "Why am I hearing straight 'A' students admitting defeat before they have even tried. And remember, on the B-27 target it's either a hit or a miss. Anything inside the seven ring counts two points. Anything outside counts nothing. Fifty rounds fired at two points each is a hundred. Most police departments consider a seventy passing — with you, it will be a ninety," he said deadpan. When the complaints from the girls, and the laughter from Diana toned down a little, he continued, "Basically, all you have to do is hit the chest of a man-sized target with every round to score a hundred. Now, you have shot from this stage before. You know you can do it. Why has a little thing like a stopwatch gotten everyone upset?

"Remember; a cop might have to do this stuff in a gunfight with a heart rate of one hundred and sixty, with his or her life depending on it. We're just shooting a piece of paper. Also, remember when you first started, I made a remark one time saying about a week from then you would think what you were doing at the start was baby shit. I'll say it again. A week from now — if our good weather continues to hold — you'll look back and laugh at what you've just said and felt. I've seen a firearms instructor shoot this course with a revolver, which is a lot slower to reload, generally. This guy could reload in five seconds without breaking a sweat. Anyway, he shot it with a revolver — held upside down — and shot a one hundred with a group no bigger than your fist."

"Shit," a female voice quietly said. Jeff thought it was Margaret, but wasn't sure.

He went on, "Now the next stage is to jog from the twenty-five to the fifteen yard line, draw your weapon and fire two rounds on the target. Elapsed time — six seconds." That got their attention.

And it went on, with an hour break for lunch. Late in the day, they had live-fired the course six times, in addition to going back to basics to overcome bad habits that were creeping in.

As they gathered back at the fifty, "How many rounds have we fired?" Jeff asked, knowing perfectly well, but getting a point across.

A tired Margaret squatted by her shooting tray counting empty boxes. "Three hundred rounds on the six courses, plus another fifty working on basics."

Jeff grinned at her. "Remember when we spent hours and only fired slightly less than a box?" he asked. "We'll maintain this pace for a few more days, then speed up again."

There were groans. "Is anybody tired?" he called out.

There was a rough chorus of "Yes."

"Good. Let's pick up our brass, stop by the garage and clean our weapons, and then we'll be done for the day," he brightly said.

There were more groans, but shortly there was laughter as good mood enveloped them. All knew that they were now able to do something that they could not have dreamed of a week ago, and that they had worked hard to accomplish it.

Fred grinned at Jeff, tapped him lightly on the shoulder and said, "Well done."

Jeff took the complement from his mentor with pride. "Thanks Fred," he quietly said, "but I should have told them the firearms instructor was you."

"Bullshit," Fred said, walking toward the garage.

-------

Knowing he had pushed the women hard, Jeff demanded to be allowed to help with dinner preparations, first trying to get Diana to just have hamburgers.

As they stood talking in the kitchen, Diana turned to her husband, putting both hands on the back of his neck, smiling up at him. "Everybody is tired; they need a good meal. We've had hamburgers and hotdogs or some other variation of quick food far too many times lately. We appreciate you offering to help, but we're going to have a good meal."

Jeff looked around at the other women as they smiled at him. "Fine, then give me something to do. It isn't right for us guys to sit on our butts when you have to come in and work for another hour to fix dinner. And don't tell me you can do it faster without me. If my wives can learn to shoot, then I can learn to, at least, help a little with the cooking."

Diana glared at him for a second, then her face softened. She kissed him hard, then let him go. "In the pantry, get a sack of potatoes; wash them in that sink," she said pointing, "Peel them, wash them again, and put them in that big colander in the sink."

As she turned around, she almost ran into Fred and Frank who were lined up quietly standing behind her waiting for their duties, trying to look humble, but fighting grins. "That grin might just be changing into tears, Frank," she said, motioning to a pile of onions on the sink counter. "Peeled and chopped. Arlene will show you. Fred, you can set the table, Jennie will show you where everything is."

As Diana walked by, Laura whispered to her, "Is he afraid he won't get any pussy tonight because he pushed us so hard on the range today?"

Diana chuckled and leaned over to whisper into her best-friend-sister-wife's ear. "I would hate to try and enforce something like that. The chance of that happening is as near zero as it can get, especially with those four girls rubbing up against him every chance they've had all day. Not to say anything about us," she giggled. "Heck, every time he bent over with those tight jeans on, I wanted to grab his ass, and I've been married to him seventeen years.

"The healer making my body that of a nineteen-year-old must be what it is. Just watching him sitting there fumbling with those potatoes makes me want to stick a titty in his mouth. Not to say anything about not getting to use the breast pump today and my breasts feeling like they're going to burst."

"Well, I don't have any milk in mine, and I'm thinking about the same thing," Laura laughed, then capped her hand over her mouth as Jeff looked around, a questioning look on his face.

Laura and Diana hugged each other, then went about their business, smiling.

Before Jeff finished, Melissa and Jennie sat down with him to help. Although he had seen more than one of his wives peeling potatoes at the same time, he still felt that he wasn't carrying his weight, vowing to do this more often until he could be of some real help in the kitchen. He concentrated on his potato peeling, occasionally looking at his two young wives as they each peeled three potatoes to his one. How do they do that? he though as he slammed the peeler into his thumb in his haste to keep up. Well, shit.

He had mentioned hiring a cook, but so far, Diana had nixed the idea, saying she had rather have her privacy than have someone cook for them. She also said she didn't want the girls to fall into the lazy rich kids category, and that sharing cooking and cleaning duties with each other also helped to establish a firmer bond between the sister-wives, not to mention establishing the habit of responsibilities.

As they sat down to eat, Frank's eyes were a little red. Trying to kid him, Fred said, "Hey Frank, what's with the red eyes? I thought I was the only one around doing that."

There was quiet for a moment. Frank knew that Fred was trying to make light of his crying for his wife, but Frank was afraid to respond. After a moment he said, "I don't see how the women mess with those onions without crying. Those things got to me."

"Who says we don't?" Laura answered. "We take turns with them. Sometimes they bother us; sometimes they don't. And we can't get Vidalia onions out here like we could in Georgia. They're a sweet onion that won't grow sweet anywhere else in the country, and they also don't bother your eyes."

After the blessing and the food being passed around, Fred lost track of the conversation going on around him, thinking of Brenda. We would be on our way to Florida by now in that new rig. Why couldn't it have been me? Of course, if Jeff hadn't pushed me, subtle though he was, I would have fired my Sig one more final time that night in the motel room. How am I ever going to live without her? Tears sprang to his eyes. He blinked and looked down, pretending to be busy eating so that no one would notice.

A look passed between the women, their empathy having picked up on Fred's feelings. Diana caught her husband's eye, then glanced at Fred, but Jeff just nodded, having already noticed.

Jeff looked at his friend. Shit, what can I do? I've tried to keep him busy. He's drawn up plans, given me a list of the weapons he would like to have for the fortress, then listed what we could legally have. I wonder if I can make some kind of deal with the general? Sounds hopeless, but I've got a couple of attaboys for the healers, not to say anything about the ship. Military weapons for civilian use won't fly, but every time he needs me, he claims I'm not a civilian. Maybe a stronghold for a general to run to if the shit hits the fan might be something I could, at least, make him think about.

When Evie and Dave had been paged for supper, they had told Laura to go ahead without them, that they would be there in a few minutes. As they walked through the door, Diana said, "I was just about to come get you guys. We missed you."

"Yeah," Arlene popped up. "You missed seeing Dad peeling potatoes, and Mr. Wainwright peeling onions — we should have had a camera," she finished winking at Frank.

"Oh, my gosh," Evie said, as her husband pulled her chair out for her. She smiled at him as she sat down, then continued, "Is it safe to eat? I mean, Jeff in the kitchen..."

"Well, it wasn't quite that traumatic, and, of course, they wouldn't let me near the stove, so you should be safe," Jeff chuckled.

Dave sat down next to his wife, and food was started their way. "Boss, be careful now. You might be setting a bad example. I mean, first you're peeling potatoes, then who knows? It could get out of hand..."

"Alright, alright, you've razzed my rear enough," he said, laughing. "Everybody here knows that the height of my cooking abilities is turning on the coffee maker."

"Well, a man's got to know his limitations," Fred said, trying to imitate Clint Eastwood. Starting to reach for the butter for his bread, he had second thoughts, knowing he had to lose some weight.

The bantering and teasing continued. Later, Evie said, "I thought you would come to check on us. After all, you've spent a lot of money on that waterfall."

Jeff liberally buttered another piece of Diana's cornbread. Not cornbread like you would get in a restaurant, but soft, moist cornbread that was still so hot that the butter melted easily, and with a taste that was almost sweet. Glancing at Evie as he accepted the bowl of navy beans to replenish the supply on his plate, he said, "We had a pretty tough day on the range, and besides, I doubted that you would like me looking over your shoulder while you worked on something you hadn't set up before."

Evie held her glass as her husband poured her tea. "You're right about that," she said smiling. "But the people they sent out Friday were sharp, and even though I told them we could get the rest of it together without them, two of them came back today. It was like a big jigsaw puzzle. But they showed us the tricks and helped us lay it out. We've got it together. We just need some more steel work to get it installed right, then run the wiring and do a little more piping. They made sure to show us the additions you requested — and I'll bet that ran the bill up some," she laughed. "They left about noon, but the rest we can do ourselves. A few more hours to get the falls installed, then it's just building the range.

"We've got some temporary extra ventilation going. In the next couple of days we'll have the range ventilation installed and operating. We're going to curtain the whole area off, bring fresh air in, pull it through the work area, then vent it to the outside. You shouldn't even smell anything up here, even with all the welding we're going to do."

Fred eyed Jeff's replenished plate of navy beans, creamed potatoes with gravy, turnip greens with hot pepper sauce, another breast of southern fried chicken, and... his third piece of cornbread. "Jeff if I ate half as much as you, in a month, I couldn't walk through that door," he said motioning.

As everyone turned to Jeff, he looked up with an almost deer-in-the-headlights expression, his fork-full of creamed potatoes on its way to his mouth. Helen, coming to his defense, said "If he didn't run that half-marathon every morning — well, more actually — and he didn't have seven wives, he might gain weight, too," she finished, her face instantly turning a bright red as she realized what she had said.

As they all laughed, Dave teased his hand higher on the inside of Evie's thigh. Oh, crap,  she thought as his hand inched farther. If I reach down to grab his hand, everyone will know what he's doing, and if I don't, my nipples are going to pop and everyone will know I'm getting excited. Dave and I have already figured out that Jeff is servicing all his women every night. They don't take turns. At first, I couldn't understand how he could do it, but with the way Dave has been going at me lately, I'm beginning to. He keeps me sore, and that's with me telling him no so much of the time. That darn healer is worth more than a whole trainload of Viagra. But there's just me. Crap, he's gone to sleep with a hardon almost every night, no matter what I do. And there are all these women around him that just exude sex.

Her husband's hand had long since reached her pussy. Now he was drawing diagrams around her clit with the tip of his finger. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. "If you don't stop, I'm going to have an orgasm right here at this table."

"And that's a bad thing?" Dave quietly said, then grinning moved his hand back.

Evie noticed that both Diana and Arlene's nipples were showing through their tops, even while wearing a bra. Do they know? Evie ask herself. Fighting a shutter, she took a drink of tea and tried to concentrate on what Jeff was saying.

"I saw you walking around with the architect and his people," Jeff said, glancing at Dave.

"I thought you would come over when we got close to the range," Dave said as he piled beans on his plate.

"Nope," Jeff said pouring a second glass of tea for himself, then passing the pitcher around. "I want them to know whom they report to. That way, if they don't like what you tell them, they won't be thinking they can go over your head."

"Thanks, Jeff. I appreciate that. Oh, I kinda took over the suite nearest the back door. If you don't mind, I'll..."

Jeff waved a hand. "Forgot to suggest you set something like that up. Get you some office furniture delivered. Just store the bedroom furniture and whatever else in the basement in the corner where we've stored our extra stuff."

"We've got office furniture that we can..."

Jeff looked up, "No. This isn't going to go away tomorrow, or next month. Fit that office out in furniture that will reflect your position. I don't want you looking like the hired help. If buying yourself nice furniture goes a little too much against the grain, I'll let Diana do it for you. Guaranteed she'll spend more money. If I come down there and it isn't nice enough, I'll send it back and buy you some real furniture." Taking another bite of chicken, he grinned at Dave.

"Shit, Jeff," he said, not even realizing he had said it in front of the women, "I'm just a contractor... Uh, well, you know what I mean..."

"Evie, you're going to be in there, too. So you two get together and maybe do a little research, or get that architect, or an interior designer to help you two out. Frank insisted on quality for this place, and he picked you to do it. I don't want your office to be just 'get by.' You built this place to Frank's specifications, and it's beyond quality. When those architects walk into your office, or anyone else you're going to be dealing with, make sure they see quality and elegance. It's just a not so subtle hint to them that you expect quality, and hold them to it, just like you did to your subcontractors." Jeff stopped for a moment, then continued, "On second thought, please use an interior decorator. There's plenty of room in the suite. Tell the decorator that you want an office that projects elegance. If you have to do some construction, that's fine too."

"But Jeff, you use the office near your suite, and it's nothing special. Oh, it's nice, but not what you talking about for us."

Jeff just said, "So? No outsider comes in there. I don't need to impress. You do."

Dave sat quietly for a minute, then looked at Evie, who grinned at him and shrugged. "I forgot to say anything about it. I've been using line four. I hope..."

"Yeah, we figured it out when it started ringing and someone picked it up," Diana said, smiling.

Since everyone was about finished, the girls started picking up dishes and began the cleaning process. Jeff, the last to be through, finished off his food and stood. "Ladies, even if I did help peel a few potatoes, it was a wonderful meal, as always. I think I'm going to adjourn to the living room as soon as I get..."

As he turned around to get the coffee pot, he almost bumped into the serving cart that Arlene had already loaded with two insulated carafes of coffee and the associated items to go with them.

Jeff thanked her; kissed her briefly, and pushed the cart through the door as Evie fell in to help with cleanup. As she picked up plates and started to the sink to rinse them, she bumped into Diana, who was standing with her hands on her hips. Taking the plates, Diana said, "Remember the talk I gave to your husband? Now do I have to sit in your lap, too?" she tried to say with a straight face, but lost it about halfway through. As Arlene took the plates from her mother and carried them to the sink, Diana laughing, continued, "Go sit with the guys. They're probably going to talk business. Or go relax. You've been working since early morning, just like your husband has — probably at something a lot more nerve racking.

"On second thought, Dave doesn't need to be talking business. He's done enough of that all day. Why don't you grab that good-looking man of yours, drag him off and ravish his body? And by the way, I think if you had orgasmed at the table, I would have, too."

"How did you... ?" Then she lost it and laughed. "Were we that obvious?"

Diana smiled as Arlene came up from behind her mother, putting her chin on Diana's shoulder, then kissed her neck, teasing. Diana scrunched her neck over as goosebumps dotted her arms, but continued, "I think that Arlene and I were the only ones that knew, but who cares?"

"Diana, I, well... Oh, heck, I don't know any other way to say it. It must be the healer, or maybe Dave being around all you gorgeous women, but he's... insatiable. I think I'm too sore for him to even do it to me once tonight. We've been married ten years, and we work hard for a living. We used to do it two or three times per week, and that mostly on the weekend. Now..."

"Pussy cream," Diana and Arlene said in unison as Arlene got into the conversation.

"I'll get her a tube and be back in a minute," Arlene said, heading for the door, her short skirt she had changed into after the range, showing a set of beautiful legs and a tight little butt as she left, her long, thick hair cascading in gentle waves down her back almost to her waist.

"This is embarrassing," Evie said as she looked at the floor a moment, then back at Diana. "I mean; I'm thirty years old. I had honeymoon cystitis when we got back from our honeymoon. That damn doctor couldn't keep her face straight as she examined me. I thought I had caught something, and was about ready to give Dave hell, when the doctor told me what caused it. I'm almost as bad now, and I certainly haven't been on a honeymoon, lately," she said, smiling. "I swear he's grown, and he was plenty big enough before. Although, typical man, he doesn't think so."

Diana, remembering Evie's remark about them, said, "Sit. We need to have a talk." When they both had a cup of coffee, she continued. "Now, did I hear a little something there a minute ago that's causing you problems? Do you think your husband is, maybe, looking at us, and it's bothering you? If so, I can assure you..."

Evie grabbed Diana's hand. "Stop, Diana. Don't even think that. I know that none of you would ever even look at another man. I just meant that he was around so many beautiful women all the time, and he's a man. He would have to be blind to not notice you guys."

Diana sat back in her chair and grinned. "Evie, I think you have worn work clothes, gotten dirty, maybe even cussed with those guys on the construction crews so long that you have lost some of your self-image. You need to have a critical look at yourself in a full-length mirror. Maybe you need to buy yourself a slinky dress, a pair of spikes, (real fuck-me shoes) have your hair done, or have one of us do it, and carry your husband out one night. Maybe dancing, if you like that. Otherwise, rent a great hotel room, go to a fancy restaurant, and just be a beautiful woman for a night."

A pensive expression passed over Evie's face as she stared down at her broken nails. "Diana, those things sound good, but I'm far from a beautiful woman. I'm cute, maybe, bordering on pretty — or was — at least, I think I was when I got out of high school. I've never been anywhere near being beautiful. And I'm not in the class with any of you. But I've spent too many years in the weather, worrying about making ends meet on a job gone bad..."

Margaret, coming up behind Diana, leaned down and whispered to her, "I'm going to grab that man of mine and see if we can think of something to do. See you in the morning."

"Okay," Diana said. "Oh, by the way. Jeff wants us to start at five tomorrow so we can be back to eat with Dave and Evie."

"Okay, we'll be here," she said, going out the door.

Diana stood and grabbed Evie's hand. Turning to the others, she said, "Evie and I are going to fix her hair and nails."

"Yes, Mamma," the girls, with Helen and Laura, said in unison from the other end of the kitchen, just to tease Diana. She picked up the tube of cream that Arlene had placed on the table beside them, and still holding a protesting Evie by the hand, left the kitchen.

In their bedroom, Diana tossed the cream on the bed, released Evie's hand and turned to her. "We've got a professional salon on the third floor, but we have everything we need right here. Let's get your hair washed for a start, but leave it wet so I can trim it up a little."

"Diana, I'm embarrassed. We were running so late that I just sponged off a little and changed out of my dirty clothes, I..."

"So take a shower, if you would feel better," she said, indicating the shower room.

"Well, what if Jeff comes in? I..."

"Oh, he's seen a nude woman or two before," Diana quipped, like Jeff, deliberately misinterpreting what Evie meant.

"You know what I mean. I would just die."

"You work around construction people all the time, and that would embarrass you?"

"Diana, that's not what I mean. It's just, well... My little 'B' cup breasts don't measure up, and I'm not..."

Diana started laughing. "Laura, Helen, then you. How can anyone as pretty as you have an inferiority complex about the way you look?"

"Diana, I'm okay if I'm around average people, but being around Jeff wives is like being in a group of Miss World contestants, or something. I..."

"Was that a Freudian slip there girl?" Diana teased. "You put yourself in the group, right where you should be. Now hush the nonsense and get rid of those clothes. We're going to give your man a treat tonight. As soon as you get through with your shower, you can use the pussy cream. If that doesn't take care of it, I'll get Jeff to use the healer on you for a few minutes."

Seeing the look on Evie's face, Diana quickly added, "You can just lay a towel over yourself. He can slip the healer under the towel, or maybe talk to her and let me put her on you. She won't do anything but sit close to your sex. She did it to Helen, and fixed her up in minutes. And she was a mess. Now get going. I'll get my scissors while you're shampooing your hair."

Smiling, having given up, Evie stripped off her clothes and started her shower while Diana left in get her scissors.

Later, Evie sat in a chair, a towel wrapped around her watching Diana shape her hair in the mirror. Arlene, who had come back with Diana after she had gotten her scissors, was doing Evie's nails, "You two look like you know what you're doing," Evie said.

Arlene shrugged. "Anybody can do nails."

Diana chuckled as she continued, then caught Evie's eye in the mirror. "I took a course once. I had no intention of being a beautician, but I wanted to really know how to do it. Truth be told, I think Arlene is better at it than I am. Laura is good at it, too. We keep everyone's hair cut; Jeff's as well."

"I'm not Mom," Arlene said, then winked at Evie. "But I'm nearly as good."

Evie laughed, started to say something, then stopped. "Oh, heck. I'm going to say it, anyway. I thought you people were spending tons of money having your hair cut and styled; everybody's looks so good. But you're rich. Why in the world do you do it yourselves? Oh, my. That didn't come out exactly..."

Both Diana and Arlene laughed. "Oh, it came out just fine. We have absolutely no intention of being typical rich people — if there are any. But I know what you mean. Jeff, Arlene and I sat down together not too long after coming out here; I guess it was while the girls were out for the two weeks for Arlene's birthday. Anyway, we made a list of things we didn't want to become. Things we had heard of rich people doing over the years. We were afraid that the money would go to our heads like it has so many other people. Ever read about the people that have won the lottery? It's a shame the things that most of them have done.

"We've read, discussed and added to that list ever since then. The things like cooking for ourselves, doing most of the cleaning, and a lot of other things that we have always done, we have vowed — and I do mean, vowed — to continue to do. Jeff changes the oil in the vehicles, cuts the grass, and other things. We refuse to join the ranks of the idle rich. Cutting each other's hair is just one of the things that helps us remember who we are. And helping each other tends to bring us closer, and keep us close, together."

Diana stepped back and studied Evie's hair for a moment, then continued with her cutting. "Oh, we might decide to have our hair cut professionally some time, but it won't happen much. We buy good clothes, sometimes expensive clothes — the wedding dresses, and the black ones that the others of us who served wore. But those were exceptions, and for a very special thing. We don't buy junk, but we don't buy five thousand dollar dresses, either. We've been to the dress shops when the sales people tried to push us into buying the most expensive things in the store. We've had some words with some of the people. I told one of the store owners that we would never be back. He was trying to up the prices just so we would buy the most expensive things in the store, as a lot of rich people do.

"Like Jeff has said, we'll never forget our roots. And we're not going to seek out rich friends just because they are rich. Mr. Wainwright and Margaret are rich. Far richer than us, probably. But either of them will pitch in with anything we're doing. Both of them still help out in the labs, and work long hours. This is the first real vacation they have taken in years, and look what they're doing. Busting their butts to learn how to shoot. Jeff let us have two ten minute breaks this morning and two this afternoon. That's some vacation, in my opinion.

"Now Frank will spend money in a heartbeat, and he likes to ride in a limo, according to Margaret. Heck, he came all the way from Boulder in a limo, but he certainly isn't afraid of work. He was raised to it. You should get him to tell you about how his father and mother, already filthy rich, instilled a work ethic in him.

"Evie, we're just people who happen to have money. We're not rich people in that sense of the word, and I hope we never will be."

Arlene finished up, then standing, she said, "Be careful, they're obviously still wet." She held one of Evie's hands up. "But they look good to me, even if I did do them myself."

"Oh, Arlene, you did a great job. At least, they're all the same length now," she laughed.

Spraying Evie's hair lightly, and running the dryer while doing magic with her brush, Diana said, looking in the mirror to catch Evie's eye, "Now, how's that?"

"Oh, Diana," Evie said standing. "I never thought my hair could look that good, I..."

Diana pulled her towel away just as she stood. Evie made a little "eep" sound and reached for it.

Arlene giggled.

"Stop," Diana said to Evie, not quite suppressing a chuckle. "Turn back around and look at yourself. Really look at yourself. And stand up straight, I've seen a nude women or two in my life," she teased.

As Evie looked in the mirror, Diana continued, "Now step closer so you can see with the side mirrors. Look at your back, your butt. Little lady, a man would have to be deaf, dumb and blind to think you weren't beautiful, and that's without a dab of makeup, which we're going to correct now."

"Diana, I don't wear makeup, well, other than a little lipstick now and then."

"We're not going to overdo it. You're not going out tonight, so we'll go the whole route another time. Tonight, we will just use a touch. I think we need to get Ann in here. She's about your size... 

Evie looked at Diana wide-eyed. "Ann has much larger breasts than I have..."

"Oh, you sound just like a man talking about his dick size. Your breasts are beautiful. Look in the mirror and tell me anything that's not beautiful about them."

Arlene stood grinning, but didn't say anything.

"Diana, you're embarrassing me to death." Evie managed to get out.

"Good, now maybe I've got your attention," Diana said. Picking up the phone, she dialed the intercom, not even astonishing Evie any longer that Diana knew where Ann was. "Tell Ann to come to the bedroom, please," she said when Melissa answered. "I want Evie to borrow one of her dresses."

"Oh, gosh," Evie said, "I need to get the towel..." Snatching it up and putting it quickly around herself, she turned to Diana. "Diana, I don't know how to thank you for this. But... thank you," she finished hugging Diana.

The towel slipped as she did so, and as she began to reach for it, Diana kissed her. Not a long kiss, but far from a peck, with her mouth slightly open. Diana could feel Evie shiver. Pulling back, arms on Evie's shoulders, Diana said, "No, I'm not bi. But I've seen you looking at me, and well, felt something. Jack made Arlene and I do some things that I hated at first," she said, glancing at her daughter. "But, we did some of those things for Jeff, just to turn him on, and sometimes, because we're turned on watching him make love to another of us, we do a little more. And I love my sister-wives. I just want you to know that you're special to all of us — really special. As I said before, you two wouldn't be here if you weren't."

Arlene kissed Evie on her cheek, but before Arlene could say anything, Ann came in, took one look at Evie, and said, "I've got something that I'll bet will fit you just perfect, and Dave is going to love it." She dashed into the closet, and was back in a few seconds. She held up a dress that appeared to be about mid-thigh length, split up the side, with a plunging neckline. "I wear this for Jeff every now and then, and he really likes it. I'll bet Dave will too. Now you need some panties so you can dress here and not go back to your apartment. Dave needs something to take off," she giggled. "Hmmm, I think I have some you'll like."

In a moment she was back. "But those are brand new," Evie protested.

"So what?" Arlene and Ann said together. "They're going to be put to good use, aren't they?" Ann finished, giggling.

Diana flipped the towel loose, again. "Ohh, nice," Ann said, looking Evie over with a critical eye. "You don't need a bra; a little bounce and sway drives our man nuts. I'll bet it does yours, too. And that neckline will about stop his heart."

"I wish I had my beige heels. They would go great with the dress." Evie said, fighting a blush as Ann appraised her body.

"Send your man to get them," Diana suggested.

"But that would spoil it," Arlene said.

"I can send one of the girls, if you don't mind her in your apartment," Diana offered.

Evie laughed. "Do you know how that sounds? We stroll through your place like we own it, and you ask to go into our apartment. It would be great. Then Dave wouldn't see me until I'm fully dressed. The shoes are in the bedroom closet, on the floor, just to the right of the door. I have new hose in the top left drawer of the dresser."

Diana was dialing the intercom before Evie was through.

A little later, Evie was fully dressed and staring at herself in the mirror. Looking over her shoulder, meeting Evie's eyes, Diana said. "I see a beautiful, very vibrant young woman — maybe twenty-four or five years old, with a face and body to die for. Shall we get Jeff down here with the healer for a few minutes?"

Evie smiled, suddenly shy, and said "Oh, Diana, I never dreamed I could look this good." After a moment, she added, "The cream helped, and I can hardly tell it's inside me."

"Good," Diana said. "It doesn't make you slick or anything like that. And the little bit we used will absorb shortly, if it hasn't already. It quickly reduces the swelling, and gets rid of inflammation. But I'll get Jeff in here with the healer, if you need her. It's no problem."

"I don't think so. I feel fine. I might need it tomorrow, though," she giggled. "Dave seems like he has a perpetual erection, these days. If this keeps up, I'm going to need some help," she kidded, then stopped, thinking.

"Well come on girl, what're you waiting for. Go in there and sit down in his lap. Of course, you're going to feel something thump you in the butt when you do," Diana laughed as they escorted Evie out of the suite.

As they stood back a few minutes later, Evie walked gracefully into the living room. Fred, Dave, and Jeff were the only ones there, but all Jeff's wives filed in behind Diana, watching.

Fred stopped in mid word. Dave with his back to Evie, turned around, following Fred's eyes and stunned expression. "Wow," Dave managed to get out after staring for several seconds while Evie closed the gap between them.

Sitting demurely on his lap, she said, "What?"

Jeff started laughing. "You're going to have to lead him out, Evie. I don't think he can hear you."

Dave seemed to wake up. "Baby, you're beautiful," he managed to croak.

Evie felt the thump, but Dave didn't seem to be aware of it. "Come on Big Man, we need to have a talk," she said, sanding. Taking his hand, she gently pulled until he belatedly figured out what she wanted and stood. Arm and arm they left with her doing the steering. He just looked down at her and walked where she directed.

"I don't know whether those two will make it for breakfast in the morning or not," Jeff laughed. Turning to his first wife, he quietly said, as Fred had said to him, earlier, "'Well done, ' Darling. 'Well done.'"

Fred grinned at Jeff. "Damned straight," he said, nailing the inflection just right.



-------

Chapter 30

FROM THE END OF THE LAST CHAPTER:

Dave seemed to wake up. "Baby, you're beautiful," he managed to croak.

Evie felt the thump, but Dave didn't seem to be aware of it. "Come on Big Man, we need to have a talk," she said, taking his hand and gently pulling until he belatedly figured out what she wanted and stood. Arm in arm they left with her doing the steering. He just looked down at her and walked where she directed.

"I don't know whether those two will make it for breakfast in the morning or not," Jeff laughed. Turning to his first wife, he quietly said, as Fred had said to him, earlier, "Well done, Darling. Well done," leaving out the "Darling," of course.

Fred grinned at Jeff. "Damned straight," he said, nailing the inflection just right.

"Thanks, my love," Diana said, sitting in her husband's lap in the living room.

"They are super people," Jeff said to Frank, who had returned looking a little bedraggled after making love to Margaret, but in an excellent mood. "Heck, they're so honest, I'm surprised that they made it in the construction business. I don't mean to slight the construction business, but ... I've been meaning to ask you, Frank. As much as I like them, and it's damned obvious that I do, I've wondered why you gave Dave the contract for this place. He told me he usually stayed with smaller businesses, houses, even a strip mall or three, but building the convention center, particularly where it is, I would have thought that you would have gone with a bigger company..."

Frank pushed back in the recliner, his arms across his chest, the fingertips of one hand touching those of the other hand, contemplating. Finally, he said, "I almost screwed up and did," he chuckled. "Oh, I've had a lot of buildings built, and I've fussed with more than one contractor, and even almost sued one. Sometimes, both the contractor and I have come away from the deal thinking we've been screwed.

"I had the road roughed in up here, although it wasn't paved and the rails weren't up when I put out the bids. Tingle, Margaret, the architect and I worked over the paperwork for months, I guess. Since I wanted all the extras, the place didn't exactly fall into the usual mold, so to speak. The woodwork, heck, even the countertops and floors, not to say anything about the triple layered exterior walls, or soundproofing, the steel roof under the regular one, well ... you get the picture. When the bids started coming in, there was such a range of figures, that we began to wonder, then as we got more bids, that wonder changed into full-fledged worry."

Frank looked over at Jeff. "Why would one contractor bid half what the next one did? Was it because he was going to cut corners that I wouldn't be able to check? Now keep in mind, this wasn't a government bid, sealed, supposedly, where the bid was going to the lowest bidder, all to be opened on a certain day. I was just about to shitcan the whole thing, when a young contractor came to see me. He didn't have an appointment and I was busy as heck that day. He waited for over two hours. When he finally walked in with his pretty wife in tow, he told me that I was going to get screwed on my convention center."

Frank chuckled and winked at Diana. "Well, since I tended to agree with him, I had some refreshments brought in, and told him to tell me how to keep from it. As best I remember the conversation, it went something like this: He looked at me, grinned, glanced at his wife, and said, 'Simple. Just use our outfit. The next part isn't so simple. Two years of hard work, plus a whole lot of cooperation between us and whoever you use to oversee the construction. Oh, I'll do it alright, but there are going to have to be many, many decisions as we go along. That's why a set price will never work, and cost overruns in the contract are a sure bet to cost you a whole lot more money.

"'Just look at the amount of industrial quality concrete we're going to have to use. You want the first wall layer to be poured concrete slabs — reinforced to your specifications and anchored to the foundation that is many times thicker and wider than specs. Then the second wall consists of concrete blocks with steel reinforcements (not just rebar) all the way through the holes in the concrete blocks — anchored to the foundation, then the blocks poured solid with that same industrial concrete, and the whole thing anchored to the steel roof. After that, the outside layer of decorative bricks goes over those first two walls.

"'Cement trucks have a wide turning radius. That means a real hassle getting them up the driveway, if they will come up it at all — which I doubt. Lose the brakes, or the driver screws up, even once, and you have a dead driver. So, we're going to have to have a portable concrete plant built on site, and pour the walls, or pour the slabs and lift them into place with a crane.

"'I don't have the equipment, nor do a lot of companies, to swing the steel into place for the structure. That means a big crane that won't come up that drive. But I can subcontract all of it that I can't do myself.' Well, he went on and on, checking a list from time to time. When he finished, with a helpful reminder from his wife occasionally, I was depressed, because a lot of these same things were what we had been worrying over for the last weeks.

"Finally, he grinned at me, handed me a list of buildings that he had built, including several very expensive homes. He had names, addresses and phone numbers for me to contact. When I looked at the list, he just said for me to check him out. Then he told me the center was indeed going to be expensive, but he would build it to my specifications, if I would pay for everything, including salaries for his crews — everything, plus ten percent profit for his company. Well, ten percent of the price of this place," Frank said, motioning to include the conference center around them, "was a chunk of change, as my father used to say. But at least I would be getting exactly what I wanted without giving some contractor a chance to screw over me, and half-ass things without me knowing.

"He gave me the phone number where they were staying, his cell number, and left. I had gotten Margaret and Ray in earlier in the conversation, and we sat and talked a while after Dave and Evie left. We split the numbers and called several people on the list, and with no exceptions, they were pleased. But...  that wasn't too shocking. I mean, who would give numbers for people who would give him a bad reference. Turns out, he would.

"Margaret suggested that she go and see some of these people, personally. Tingle and I were tied up, and well, Margaret liked Dave and Evie. By early that night, she was knocking on the first door of a several million dollar home that he had built a couple of years before. She spent two days in the area talking to everyone she could easily find, even the owner of one of the strip malls he had built. With one exception, everyone had been very pleased with his work, and his ethics. Most showed her through their home, or building. She said that the guy that was the exception probably couldn't be pleased with anyone about anything.

"Over and over, she kept hearing about how Dave's work and his materials were always what the owner expected, or better. One of the most expensive homeowners said that Dave, Evie, or one of their people inspected every piece of material that went into his house. Even some of the framing lumber was culled and sent back. Expensive doors were closely inspected, and even minor things were either brought to the owner's attention to okay, or sent back for a better product.

"I called Dave the next morning and told him what was going on. He didn't seem to mind, just said that was the reason he had given me the list. He told me that if this was going to take a while, he and Evie were going to do a little sightseeing while they were in the area, and I could reach them on his cell, unless they were too far out to get reception. If so to leave word at the hotel, and they would call back when they got back to the city.

"By the middle of the second day, Margaret was convinced, and I told her to come on back. We got in touch with Dave and Evie later in the day and set up a meeting for the next day. One of the company attorneys sat in on the meeting and drew up a contract that Dave took back for his lawyer to look over. Within two weeks, I was buying materials for the center. Two years later, he handed me the keys.

"I think Tingle grew a few gray hairs during those two years, and I'll bet Dave and Evie grew more, but I got my building built the way I wanted it. And barring a direct hit by a class three tornado, nothing is going to happen to this building. And that safe room that we eat in," he chuckled, "won't move with far more than that.

"It was one time, at least, that honesty and integrity paid off. Then you put him in charge of building a fortress a couple of hundred feet underground — well, I guess you could say, underrock, in this case," he finished, chuckling.

Jeff grinned and looked at Diana, then turned to Frank, "Maybe you should tell Tingle that you're going to send him up here to be in charge of building the fortress. That should be good for a laugh."

"Yeah, it would," Wainwright said, his voice changing, "but it might backfire on me. He could always quit. And I know damn well he would consider it. So maybe I won't tease him about the fortress."

Jeff laughed, then sat for a few moments, thinking. "Are you still considering building another convention center/retreat in a more accessible place, like you mentioned before?"

Frank thought for a moment. When Margaret came in and sat in his lap, he took time out to kiss her, then said, "I can't make up my mind. This place was just what I wanted, but the winters scared me for my people. I didn't want to think about one of them being hurt or dying getting from Boulder to here in some of the conditions I talked to you about. Then when we had the near misses, we quit having our meeting here in the winter, but Margaret and I still spent some time here."

Margaret turned and looked at Frank for a moment, then turned back to Jeff and Diana. "I know that you two have invited us to come more often, and we think you were serious. But the truth is that we miss this place, and would really like to come for the weekend occasionally."

"I've already told you that you're welcome, anytime," Jeff said.

"We know you did, but well ... we still feel like we're imposing, but we've absolutely loved being here, and even though we still have the better part of a week, we're already starting to dread going home..."

"Frank," Jeff broke in, "my wives and I have already talked about this, and although you got off to a bad start with some of them, I've known you much longer. Just bring some clothes, set up in one of the apartments..."

"No, no. That isn't necessary, especially if we continue to eat with you. We want to be at the retreat, but we want to be with you people just as much. A suite would be fine. We really miss this place, and until we wear out our welcome, if you really mean that, expect us often."

Jeff laughed. "You just fronted me twenty million for the fortress, and my lawyer said you were nuts, or a damn good friend to sign a contract like that. And despite pissing off my wives, you did it because you were worried about me. Even they know that, and have 'forgiven' you," he laughed, as Diana sniggered. "And besides, you have built a lot more things than I have. I would be a fool to run you off."

Margaret got up and kissed Jeff on the cheek. "We'll just leave everything we brought with us, and bought while we were here. We'll add to it when we come next time. Thanks, Jeff, and thank you, Diana. We're going to love coming up here again. We've really missed it."

"We'll be expecting you two to be regulars around here."

A little later, Margaret was sitting in the bedroom talking with Jeff's wives. "I heard what you said when Arlene asked if Jeff really believed that something was going to happen. If it isn't personal, you got my curiosity up, could... ?"

The wives were all sitting around, either in some of the seating, or relaxing on the bed. Margaret was seated in a chair near the bed, and Diana was sitting against a pillow propped at the head of the bed. There was a moment of silence as Diana seemed to think. She glanced at Arlene for a second, who shrugged. "Arlene, Jeff and I had been to the mall shopping," Diana quietly said. "We picked up a couple of things, then stopped by for a bite to eat. About two o'clock, we hit the interstate on the way home. I was driving when Jeff suddenly, almost yelled, for me to take the exit. I just barely managed to get on the exit ramp.

"Well, to be truthful, he pissed me off. I mean all of a sudden he just yells to get off the interstate. As soon as we got to the bottom of the ramp, he told me to pull over. We had a good view of the interstate when we stopped because it turned slightly to the right and was going uphill. He told us to look at the interstate, and just as I realized that there was a car going fairly slow in the right lane, an eighteen-wheeler rammed the back of the car going about eighty, I guess.

"The eighteen-wheeler slammed hard into the car and they both went onto the shoulder. The car seemed to disintegrate. The eighteen-wheeler just went on over the car, pieces flying everywhere. The car, what was left of it, wound up all the way to the back wheels of the trailer and was still dragged several hundred feet. The two people in the car were killed, I suppose, almost instantly. Traffic was heavy. If I had stayed on the road, we would have been behind that car. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that we would have been the car that truck hit. None.

"Jeff was white as a sheet, as we all were, I guess. But I've never seen him like that. He just kept saying, "'I almost didn't tell you to get off. I almost didn't tell you to get off.' He was shaken. I've never seen Jeff like that.

"There have been other times," she said, looking at her daughter, who nodded again. "But the others weren't so dramatic. But, well, if Jeff ever tells us something is going to happen, we tend to take it as gospel. If he didn't believe that something bad was going to happen, he would have answered this morning.

"This whole thing is scaring me more and more all the time." She stopped, took out a cigarette and lit it. No production, like she usually did, not trying to look sexy, took a pull on it, then almost immediately put it out in the ashtray. They all saw the sparkle of unshed tears in her eyes.

Laura, sitting next to her, pulled Diana over to her, hugging her. "We'll make it, Di. Jeff will take care of us, and we'll damn sure give him all the help we can. We'll make it."

"The really frustrating part for Jeff, I think," Laura said taking up where Diana left off, "is that his — talent — if you want to call it that, isn't consistent. He didn't expect the bear attack, and he's said that there were other times when serious things happened, and he didn't anticipate it. I think he was talking about times with the military, but I'm not sure. But what is consistent, is when he starts to worry that something bad is going to happen — it will."

Laura let Diana go, and she leaned back against the pillow and wiped tears from her eyes. Glancing back at Margaret for a moment, she started to speak, but her voice broke. She cleared her throat and continued, "Jeff is almost obsessed with teaching us to shoot. And not just to shoot, but he's talking about combat shooting. Combat with my daughter and my sister-wives involved. I can't even think coherently about that. It scares me to death."

Her voice quieted, taking a new tone. "I wake at night and realize that his breathing has changed and he's awake. He just lies there, unmoving. I know he's thinking, and I know that he's worrying. He knows that something is coming, but he doesn't know exactly what. But he does know that it involves an attack."

Sitting up straighter, her voice stronger, Diana continued, "Jeff wants us to start on emergency drills. He, Frank and Laura," she said, nodding to her sister-wife, "have been working with the programming of the security system. Jeff already has an outline for a drill, and we're all adding to it. We'll soon be practicing daily."

Margaret felt chills go down her back. Looking around the room, she realized that all of Jeff's wives believed this without question. They were all dead serious, and they were all intelligent people — very intelligent. If they believed this so strongly — well, the chills down her back said it all. She and Frank were going to have a long conversation. Maybe there was something they could do to help.

-------

TUESDAY MORNING EARLY

Shortly after midnight, Tuesday morning, Jeff slowly turned the doorknob to Fred's suite. Walking quietly through the sitting room, he placed his hand on the doorknob of the bedroom. He was snoring last night when I came in; I sure hope he's deeply asleep tonight as well. I don't know whether he sleeps with that Sig or not, but he was a cop for thirty years. Ten to one, he still does.

Feeling uncomfortable sneaking into anyone's bedroom, no matter the reason, and for some reason, more tense tonight than he had been last night, he slowly turned the knob. As he gently pushed the door open enough for him to walk through without brushing up against it, he paused again to listen to Fred's breathing. He heard long, deep breaths, as he held the Healer and crept the remaining distance to the side of the bed. Holding the Healer out, he froze as Fred said, "What in the fuck are you doing, Jeff?"

"Ah, shit," Jeff returned before he could catch himself. "Dammit Fred, you're supposed to be asleep," he said, indignantly.

"Well, I was, until you've sneaked into my bedroom two fucking nights in a row," Fred answered, fighting not to laugh.

"Ah, shit," Jeff said, this time quietly.

"And, what's that you have in your hands?"

Jeff hastily held the Healer behind himself. Crap, he's fifty-something years old, and he knew I was here last night as well. Now what do I do? The others, more or less, had to know about the Healer. That won't fly with Fred. I'm surprised he can see enough to tell I have something in front of me. I've already stolen one of the night-lights.

"Fred, do you trust me?"

"Well, that's a dumbass question. I haven't got my gun in my hand."

"I need for you to just close your eyes..."

Fred sighed, and said, "I thought Brenda and I had stayed in a couple of very nice hotels. They had plenty of amenities, but they were about skid row compared to this place. Now, I've seen bathroom scales before in a hotel, but even your scales are nicer, so I stepped on them the first night, as I did last night. Funny, when I weighed this afternoon, I had lost ten pounds in two days. That little trot up the road and back didn't do that much, even though it should have about killed me. But I felt fine afterwards. Why don't you just tell me... ?"

"I can't, Fred. I really can't."

"So you want me to close my eyes?"

"Yeah."

"Done."

It didn't even cross Jeff's mind that his friend would lie and open his eyes, and he didn't. Jeff eased the sheet up and placed the Healer on Fred's chest. The blue light came on before the Healer even touched. Fred slept.

Jeff sat down leaning against the wall to catnap until the Healer called him. This is getting old,  he thought as he closed his eyes.

-------

At five, everyone was gathered in the kitchen cutting up about their "slavedriver."

"Man, I feel good this morning," Fred said, grinning at Jeff.

There were sniggers and chuckles around the room, but Fred acted like he hadn't heard.

After their stretches, they jogged down the drive in a crisp morning. The women, having checked the outside temperature, wore light jackets, but shed them a few hundred yards after they turned onto the county road, tying them around their waists. Frank hung back with Fred, and it seemed they were having a good time joking with each other about which one was more out of shape. Neither seemed unduly stressed with the distance, so Jeff added a few hundred yards before they turned around, but he kept to the walk/jog combination.

As before, he had left the Escalade at the bottom of the drive when he had started on his morning run, so with Diana driving, and the men providing their laps, they stuffed themselves into the SUV and rode to the house.

When they got back, Evie was just starting breakfast. Laura shooed the men away and the women dropped into production line mode.

Later as they were finishing breakfast, Laura asked, "So what are we going to do on the range today?"

"I thought we would continue working on the courses, alternating speeding up and slow-firing them. Then, of course, intersperse basic training between the courses. After lunch, we'll do some slow-fire on a plate rack or two."

"Oh, heck," Jennie said. "I have a hard enough time shooting the courses with a passing score. I think those plates are beyond where I am right now."

Melissa agreed with her. "Me, too."

Jeff just smiled at them. "If I don't keep pushing, you'll never reach your full potential. Isn't that right, Teach?"

"I'm not getting involved in this, since I don't have to push them at all for their schoolwork. But you do realize that the girls have done a lot of school work after the range."

"Yeah, I know, and I've told them how much I appreciate it. It's just that..."

"We know, Jeff. I wasn't complaining. And the range work is pushing me as well. I don't think I shoot any better than they do. But if you think we need to be pushed, we'll do whatever you say."

Jeff sighed. "I'm not trying to be mean to any of you. But when you teach someone to shoot, you have to keep raising your expectations. Every little bit goes together to make a greater whole. A few days ago, you would have been appalled if I tried to run you through the courses we shot yesterday. Yet now, you don't think much about it; you just want to shoot a higher score next time. Of course, I'm excluding Diana in this."

Ann laughed, "She did throw one flyer yesterday. She must have hiccupped or something. It went into the eight ring. Of course, it was still a hundred," she finished, winking a Diana.

Diana got up and began stacking dishes in preparation for carrying them to the sink to be rinsed off, but she stopped, looking around the table. "Jeff says he's pushing us. He hasn't pushed us. Oh, maybe a little. But I couldn't shoot the way I do now to start with. During that 'week' of training, I was yelled at more than I have been in all my life. It seemed like every time my concentration slipped a little bit, one of the instructors leaned over my shoulder and screamed in my ear. To hear them talk, I would never learn to shoot. They had me so pissed that all I could think of was, 'I'll show you, you son... ' well you get the picture. But you know something? My scores did improve. They knew they were pissing me off, and they knew I couldn't say anything. They would have thrown me off the range. So, I got better. Then the rangemaster just smiled at me, patted me on the shoulder and said, 'I knew you could do it, ' and left me alone.

"What we're doing isn't just sport. It's serious. And I'll back what Jeff has already told you. Everyone here has come a long way. But you're capable of more, just as am I. I don't know much more about finding it than you do, but I know we can't keep doing the same thing at the same speed. I've only shot plates a time or two, and even then just a few rounds. They bother me, too, because I know that it won't be long until we're competing. You two, Jennie and Melissa, started from probably never holding a gun in your hands to what you can do today.

"I've had a lot of training — well, comparatively speaking. Arlene has had some, with Laura and Ann having less than Arlene, and Helen has shot a handgun little, if any. If you'll look at the scores, they pretty much fall in line by the amount of training we've had. But a year from now, that few hours that one has over the other will be a lot less of the overall hours. I might not be top scorer when we've all fired that much."

"Yeah, sure," someone said.

"If we blindfold you," Melissa said.

"Seriously my sister-wives, I guess I could shoot the courses a little faster, but you don't even want to see Jeff shoot them. Of course, come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea," she said looking over at her husband, who shook his head. "One afternoon just before the course ended, I came back a few minutes after all the rookies had left; I had left my cigarettes, and I didn't want to stop and get more. As I walked up on the range, two of the instructors were shooting the same course we had been working on that day.

"I just stood there stunned. I had never seen anyone shoot like that. It humbled me. I had seen Jeff quick draw, and shoot plates, and shoot in contests, but I had never seen him shoot a simple course. He finally did for me. Of course, he can make those instructors look like it was their first time on the range, but he won't. But we've all seem him shoot the tree once with Fred, and saw him draw and fire at one plate, over and over. He did shoot a few rounds from the twenty-five, and you could hardly count the rounds, he was shooting so fast. He's teaching us to survive. But we're his wives, so he won't get on our case like the instructors did me. But if he won't and I think you need it. I will. We have to push ourselves, or otherwise, someone will have to."

There was dead silence at the table. Diana's face was red as she turned with the stack of dishes and went to the sink. All the women got up to help with cleanup. As Jeff glanced in Diana's direction, Jennie and Melissa were hugging her.

"She's right," Fred said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "A good handgun shooter develops fairly easy. To get better than that, you've got to work at it. A lot. And you can never be satisfied. Even if you shoot a perfect score, you can always tighten the group or shoot a little faster." He refilled his cup from the pot on the table, then grinning at Jeff, walked out of the kitchen to wait in the living room.

As Evie and Dave stood up to get their day started, Evie looked at Jeff. "One of these days, you're going to teach me to shoot."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, grinning at her.

A little later, Dave had left for Denver, Evie was in the basement with the crew bosses, and Frank, Fred and Jeff had adjourned to the living room for a last cup of coffee. The women had finished cleanup, and Margaret left to get her gear.

Diana got the attention of her sister-wives. "I'm sorry I got a little abrupt a while ago. It's just like I talked about in the bedroom. If he ever gets intense like that and says something is going to happen — it will. When he gets one of his feelings, it scares the crap out of me.

"He loves us so much that he won't push any of us, at least not much. We have got to push ourselves — really push ourselves. I've only seen Jeff mad a few times in our whole marriage, even then, it wasn't at us. But it was awesome. I don't want him to get frustrated and get mad at any of you. I had rather have you mad at me than for you to be mad at him. So let's stop with the 'I can't, ' and focus. All of you have come further than most could in the time we've had on the range, but I know you. You're not the average bears, remember. It's time we all stopped with the negative comments, and showed our husband what we can do. From now on, I'm going to shoot the dead level best I can on that range. If it hurts your feelings, tough — get better and outshoot me.

"And tonight, he gets some special loving. If he's going to carry our load of worry, then we're going to help him every way we can. On the range, in your classwork, in our bedroom."

Later as the men strapped cases of ammunition onto the ATV, Jennie grabbed a box of targets, Melissa got the box with the staple guns and they were headed for the range on another ATV before the men. There was still kidding, but Jeff noticed a look on his wives faces that he wasn't quite sure what it meant. But within the next few minutes, every one of them had kissed him.

As he pulled up on the range to set the ammunition off on one of the large tables in the "range house" behind the fifty, some of the women were already getting barricades, others were stapling targets up, while others were bringing out the mats. Frank and Fred pitched in. The women had always helped, but most of the time they had waited for him to tell them what to do.

By the time he had the ammunition unloaded, Helen was opening the cases and putting four boxes in each shooting tray, along with glasses and ear protection.

"Just put the barricades up on the fifty, instead of the twenty-five," he said, waiting for the complaints to set in.

There were a couple of stunned looks, but an "Uh, okay," was all he got. Then he realized what the look was — determination. Bless you Diana,  he thought as he picked up a couple of barricades to help. Now maybe they'll really try.

After they had set the barricades up on the fifty, and put the mats down so they didn't have to put their knees down on the concrete to shoot from the two kneeling positions, they gathered around him. "We're going to shoot from the fifty until you're tired of shooting from this far away. Then we're going to do it some more. Then we're going to shoot the first course. Ten to one, you will feel like you're within spitting distance of the target when you go back to the twenty-five to start the course."

Standing back he said, louder, "All right. On the line, load two magazines with ten rounds each. With your weapon still locked in its holster, you may insert one live magazine into the weapon, but do not take the weapon out of the holster or rack the slide. This will speed things up slightly, but you will still have a safe weapon in the holster."

When everyone had done so and stepped back to parade rest, he said. "Step up to the firing line. On the command to fire, draw your weapon, rack a round into the chamber and slowly fire twenty rounds right hand standing barricade. The best twenty rounds you absolutely can. You have fifteen minutes to do so. Take your time. Breathe a half breath out like I've taught you for slow-fire — best sight picture you have ever had. Fire a few slow rounds, then holster, step back to parade rest and relax. Think about what you have done, and what you can do to make it better. Then when you have the correct mindset, step back up on the line and fire some more. Don't consciously try to see where your rounds have gone, but review everything about sight picture, stance, grip, trigger squeeze, and breathing that I've taught you.

"If you have a flyer and you notice it, the hell with it. It's gone. The next one is the one you're concentrating on. The fifteen minute time is a relative thing. If you're not done, I'll give you more time. As a matter of fact I would encourage you to take it. Remember! Fire me the best twenty rounds you're capable of. THE BEST! Does everyone understand what we're going to do?"

After the affirmatives, "Again, this is SLOW-FIRE. If you get done in five minutes, we're going to make two laps around the level area, because you haven't fired your best twenty rounds in that length of time. Concentrate. Check your watches. Fifteen minutes, minimum. I'll also call out the time at five minute intervals. IS THE LINE READY? — THE LINE IS READY — FIRE!

Jeff watched his mentor step up on the line and simply stand relaxed looking intently at the target. Jeff never thought that he would someday be on a range with him, with their rolls reversed. Not that I can teach him anything. I owe him more than I can ever repay. The military taught me to shoot a rifle, but Fred taught me to shoot a handgun, and far, far more.

After a little while, Fred slowly drew his weapon, painstakingly got his grip to his liking, raised the weapon in his stance, then looked down at his feet to check that they were exactly where he wanted them, while weapons fired up and down the line around him. Finally, he touched the back of his left hand gently to the barricade, took a deep breath and let part of it out. Still, he didn't fire. After a moment, he brought the weapon back to ready gun, then lower, just standing, thinking. Finally, he raised the weapon and five seconds later squeezed off a round which hit a half inch high, almost touching the "X."

Jeff grinned as he watched him repeat the process over and over. Fred still had two rounds unfired when the fifteen minutes were up. When Jeff gave more time, Fred took it, slowly going through the process he had before, totally unhurried as everyone else stood watching him, a look of awe on most of their faces.

Although the 9 mm rounds were difficult to see individually from the fifty, their accumulation on his target wasn't. There was a "white" spot in the center of the black target where the "X" used to be as the light shined through the hole he had made with his rounds.

As Jeff glanced at his first wife's target, he stopped. While her group wasn't as good as Fred's who had thirty years to perfect his shooting, Diana's was close, darned close.

Diana saw the look of shock on Jeff's face as he focused on her target. That look did more for my ego than anything you could have said. Fooled you that time didn't I, Big Man?

"Shit, Di. You and I might as well change places," he said out of the corner of his mouth as he walked by.

She felt her face flush from the praise. Well, maybe he did come up with something to say that equaled his look,  she said to herself as she watched the man she loved stopping at each shooters station, giving them the glasses and commenting quietly with them for a moment before moving on to the next person. She realized that he was not using the binoculars — didn't need them — to evaluate the targets, but that didn't surprise her. She knew that he had no difficulty seeing the 9 mm holes from the fifty.

At ten they took a break after a morning that had amazed Jeff. This was the first real class he had taught, and he had thought that the girls were coming along beautifully. But something happened. Oh, he was there when Diana said what she did, but he suspected she had another "prayer meeting" after he had gone to the living room. The complaints had stopped — period. No more, "I'll try," or "I just can't seem to get this right;" nothing.

They hung on his every word like he was telling them the secrets of life. Their group sizes reduced, they fired faster with more determination, and shortly, more assurance. Margaret and Frank, however, were struggling. They were actually shooting a passing score on the courses, but Arlene was consistently shooting one hundreds, with Ann a close second in the high nineties and an occasional one hundred on the B-27 targets. Still, if all hits that were in the chest area (inside the seven ring with the ten ring circling the center, then the ring numbers diminishing toward the outer seven ring) scored as one hundred. Arlene and Ann, and of course, Diana, could easily pass any police firearms qualification, even with different targets. Their groups are impressive, and a lot of cops would drool over them — as well as the girls,  Jeff thought, as they gathered around him at the fifty.

"Okay, we need a break, and we didn't bring anything with us..."

"We'll go get some snacks," Arlene said, as she and the other girls, accompanied by a giggling Helen and Laura, boarded the ATVs and headed toward the house at their normal speed — wide open. Jeff cringed and turned to the others.

Frank had an odd look on his face. "What's up, my friend?" Jeff asked, afraid he already knew.

"Jeff, maybe Margaret and I need to drop out. I'm afraid we holding..."

"Bullshit," Jeff and Fred said at almost the same time.

Jeff looked at him and grinned. "Don't tell me we're going to be like the women and say things together."

"Not bloody likely," Fred laughed.

Turning back to Frank and Margaret, Jeff continued, "Now we've discussed this before. The girls have had more training than you have, and this is to be expected."

"And," Diana said, stepping beside her husband and putting her arm around his waist, "I had a little talk with the girls after you two left this morning. They're serious now, as am I. I told them, among other things, that I was going to try my dead level best from now on. If they didn't like me out-shooting them, they could just learn to shoot better than I do.

"As you know, Jeff thinks we have problems coming," she said, glancing up at her husband's face, "and I knew the girls could do better. Jeff is too sweet to push his wives very much, but I got their attention. Now to put it mildly, those girls are smart. As the expression goes, scary smart. If those people in their school hadn't been so hardheaded and lazy, every one of the girls would be in college, and will be shortly now that we have a teacher that will test them out of high school.

"But none of the girls have ever really had to study much. When they read something, they have it, and they read unbelievably fast. This might just be their first real challenge. Even though I started out way ahead of them, I won't be surprised if they pass me, shortly. Since I'm using clichés, I'll say it this way; I threw down the gauntlet this morning. You two are out here to have fun and learn to shoot. They're not doing that, anymore. None of us want to see our friends uncomfortable, so just don't be."

Margaret put her arm around Frank and they looked at each other. "You know you're going to be in a world of shit, if I manage to outshoot you," she said, smiling up at Frank.

"Ain't gonna happen," he said, trying a fake southern accent.

Laughing, they headed toward the port-a-john on the side of the range. Diana watched the two walking away. "You need to tell your project manager to put in a bathroom in our range house," Diana said, looking at her husband.

"The range just got built. Now you want me to tear up the sod and put in a septic tank and field lines?" Jeff said, a little incredulously.

"Well ... yeah. If you put it that way," she laughed. "And besides, the sod has just been put down. It won't be any problem to pick up. And that toilet looks stupid sitting by the range with that beautiful building we live in over there."

"Oh, shit. I can't wait until Evie hears this. I can just hear her now. 'You want what?'" Jeff said, laughing.

"And, you need to brick the outside of this range house to match the retreat."

"Diana this thing is two hundred yards from the house..." He stopped, knowing that look. "Well, at least Dave and Evie's company will get a little more business. But you're going to have to tell them. Dave hasn't got balls enough to laugh at you."

Diana grinned at him. "Another subject. We need to go into Winter Park for lunch. There's no use in us not enjoying ourselves out here. We've stressed our friends," she said, nodding her head toward the toilet where Wainwright was waiting on Margaret to take his turn.

Jeff thought for a moment, "Agreed. I think that would be a good idea. Okay, another hour and we'll get cleaned up and eat lunch at a nice place."

Fred grinned at his friend. "Hmmm, a decorative brick range house. I don't think I've ever seen one," he joked.

"Now, don't you start, Fred."

Fred laughed, then said, "Seriously, I think you found out something about teaching a little while ago," nodding in the direction of Frank and Margaret. "A good firearms instructor has a lot of things going on in his mind while he's teaching. And all of them aren't necessarily about the techniques. Everyone is different, and sometimes peoples' egos get a bit tender.

"Diana, you talked about your instructors pissing you off to get the most out of you. That won't work with everyone. I don't know exactly what you did with the girls, but it obviously worked. But everyone is different. A good instructor figures out what will work and goes with it."

"Yeah, and I didn't," Jeff said, finishing the unsaid comment.

"Well, every man needs a good woman," Fred kidded, but Brenda's death hit him before he completed what he was going to say. "I'm sorry," he said as tears filled his eyes. "Looks like I would quit with the faucet."

"Hush, Fred," Jeff said, squeezing his friend's shoulder. "I would think less of you if you did so quickly after her death."

Diana hugged him as the teenagers, Laura and their teacher came roaring up.

Laura came over, tapped Jeff lightly in the stomach and said, "My daughter is out-shooting me. I need some special instruction. This is not going to happen."

Fred grinned and walked off. Yeah, Jeff. Now you personally know why so many firearms instructors won't teach their wives to shoot. Good luck there, my friend. Chances are, you're going to be sleeping on the couch before this is over. Laughing, he gathered up new targets and a staple gun, heading for the target stands.

Just before eleven, they broke for lunch. Jeff found Dave, then Evie, almost having to demand they accompany them for lunch. "Boss, I'm expecting some phone calls..."

" ... And, they'll call back or you can call them. You're coming."

Evie was next. "But Jeff, we're right in the middle..."

"And that's what you pay your foremen for. You two keep trying to act like the hired help. Now let's go before Diana has to come sit in Dave's lap again," he teased.

Dave and Evie looked at each other and grinned. Soon, they were all headed down the mountain.

Jeff's radio beeped. "Yes, my Dear?" he answered.

"And how did you know it was me?" Laura asked laughing.

"Ah, I'm psychic," he teased.

"Yeah, right. In other words, any of us would have answered to the name. Okay, you got away with it. Diana wants to know if you just want to stop and try the little country restaurant that Kathy and Bill were talking about, instead of going on into Winter Park?"

"How about you guys?" Jeff said to the others riding with him.

"Okay with us," Dave answered Laura on his radio.

With everyone's agreement, Jeff told Laura it was fine with his group, as well. Shortly they pulled into the lot at Martha's.

When Jeff saw the name, he remembered. Uh oh. That's the same name from Helen's previous marriage. Turning to Helen who was riding with him, he asked, "Is this going to be..." nodding at the sign.

Helen smiled at him, wanting to hug him, but they were in public, and she wasn't his wife in public. "No, it isn't. It just brings back good memories. There sure seems to be a lot of people here for such a small place, though. I hope they have room for us."

A waitress soon met them as they gathered just inside the door. "How many in your group Sir?" she asked Jeff.

"Thirteen," Jeff said. "Is it possible to seat us all at one big table?"

"Yes, Sir. We've got a room on the side that we reserve for parties. Your group will fit in there just fine."

The "room" wasn't fully a separate room, but was partitioned off with a wall about four feet high with decorative latticework a couple of feet on top of that. Everything was natural wood with a varnished high gloss. The waitress knew what she was doing. They helped her push two big tables together and they were in business.

As they were giving their drink orders, Diana spoke up. "Two friends of ours were here the other morning and told us that the owner had invited us to stop by."

"Oh, I knew who you were when I saw your Escalades park outside." Blushing, she continued, "I'm sorry, but sometimes it's slow and we just watch the traffic go by. We've tried to figure out how many Escalades you people have."

Frank seemed to think that was funny, eyeing Jeff and laughing. Defensively, Jeff said, "Well, I just wanted my ... uh ... everyone to be as safe as possible. People would probably frown on us driving a tank back and forth, so the Escalades were as close as I could come on short notice." He gave up and laughed along with Frank.

Their drinks came, and the waitresses took their orders, but since their group was so large, it was a little while before their food arrived. Jeff was sitting with his back to the half-wall between their little room and the regular dining room. As his mind drifted to what he was going to do on the range when they got back, he realized that he could hear two men talking on the other side of the partition. Hearing snatches of their conversation, he slid his chair back a little farther and concentrated, ignoring his companions as they laughed and had a good time.

When their food came, everyone soon realized that Jeff was listing to something else, and quieted their laughter, looking at Jeff occasionally, and wondering as they ate, their chatter subdued.

The men, finishing their meal, got up to leave. As they stopped to pay at the register, Jeff walked back into the dining room and pulled their waitress aside. "Do you know those two?" he asked, nodding his head at the two well-dressed men as they paid. The fat one was wearing an Italian suit similar to one that Jeff had recently seen in a shop window for sixteen hundred dollars, and the other had on a western outfit with a handmade pair of boots that Jeff estimated would cost at least five hundred dollars.

She frowned. "Yeah, I know them. The heavy one is the president of our local bank; the tall skinny one is a big-shot realtor. They leave a dollar tip," she said, her lips almost forming a snarl, "and there's always something wrong with the food, as far as they're concerned."

"Do you know a widow that owns a farm or a ranch somewhere close to town?"

"Yeah, we all do. Her husband died a year or so ago. But Martha knows her a lot better than I do. They're friends, I guess. Carla, her husband and daughter used to come in here every now and then. But she doesn't come by much any more now that Sam is dead."

"I really need to talk to Martha. Is it okay for me to go back in the kitchen?"

"Is it about those two assholes that just left?"

"Yes, and it involves the widow as well."

The waitress (Joan on her name tag) tapped her foot. "No. She'd have a fit if I let you come back there. But, tell you what, I'll go help out while she comes to talk to you, if you think it's that important."

"It's very important. Something bad is going to happen to her friend if those two have their way."

"Go back to your table. She'll be there in just a minute."

As the waitress passed a table, someone asked for a refill on their drink, but she just told them she would be back in a minute, hurrying through the kitchen door.

Jeff went back to their table and when everyone started asking questions, he said, "Please, just wait a minute. Something is going on and Martha is going to give me some information, I hope."

Martha came in wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "What's going on? What's this about someone doing something to Carla?"

Jeff stood and put out his hand. "I'm Jeff Matthews. I'm not going to take time to introduce you to everyone here right now, but I just overheard something that stresses me. In short the two men who just walked out — Joan said that one was a bank president and the other was a realtor..."

"Yeah, I know them. Joan told me they were here again."

"I heard them laughing about foreclosing on a widow's mortgage tomorrow at noon. I don't want to go into details here, but they're planning on making a lot of money on the deal. To be blunt, their attitude pissed me off. Especially when they laughed about putting the widow out. When one of them laughingly asked what the widow would do, the other made a crack about 'that's what the Salvation Army is for.'"

Martha's face turned white, and Arlene quickly got up and sat her in the vacant chair.

"I knew that she was hard up for money, but I didn't know it was that bad. Someone burned her big barn down a few months ago, and with it, most of her farm machinery — blew up her silos as well. But I couldn't help her much. I just don't make a lot of profit. My place is too small. The only thing I could do was give her a free meal every now and then, but she's just about stopped coming in because she's too proud to take my paltry charity.

"She's having to pay to have her hay cut and baled, and I know that she's sold off a lot of her stock. It's just the two of them, with no man to help. It would just be like those two, uh..."

"Assholes," Jeff supplied thinking the waitress's term fit just fine, a stern look on his face.

"Yeah, 'assholes, ' to take what little she has left away."

"We want to help her," Jeff said, looking around the table to catch the eye of each of his wives, who quickly gave a nod.

Turning back to the café owner, he asked, "Can you give her a call and explain what I heard? And tell her that we're coming to see her about saving her property?"

"She hasn't got a phone anymore. We still have a good many customers in for lunch. If you can wait an hour or two, I can go with you. There's only the three of us here — the two waitresses and myself ... Joan cooks some for me, but..."

"I short-ordered while I went to college..." Laura said, but was interrupted by Diana.

Laura grinned at her sister-wife's enthusiasm, as Diana added, "Our girls can wait tables so Joan can show Laura around in the kitchen. They all cook and serve. Writing it down on a pad won't bother them a bit. If your other waitress can take care of taking the customer's money, your business will still be here when you get back. You said you couldn't help your friend with money. Here's your chance to help her save her home."

Martha sat staring for a moment, realizing that Carla was going to lose everything. Worrying about her business, but worrying about Carla more, she stood, pulling her apron off, "Come on then. Let's all go back to the kitchen and I'll tell Joan."

"Do I get to keep my tips," Arlene kidded as all the girls looked at each other and laughed.

Jeff looked at his wives. "Just..."

"Daddy," Arlene said, drawing out the word. "We'll tell the customers that we're helping out while Martha goes to try and help her friend who is in trouble."

Fred stood up. "And I'll make damn sure nothing happens to them," he said walking out to sit at the counter where he could see the dining room, as the rest headed for the kitchen.

Five minutes later, Jeff, Wainwright, Margaret, Diana, Evie and Dave, with Martha as a guide, were in the Escalade turning onto highway 40.



-------

Chapter 31

Five minutes later, Jeff, Wainwright, Margaret, Diana, Evie and Dave, with Martha as a guide, were in the Escalade turning down Highway 40.

Jeff glanced at Diana, "Try your cell; we should have a signal here."

When Diana flipped her phone open, she responded, "Yes, it's pegged. Strong signal."

"Dial this number," he said, giving it to her. "Tell his secretary that I need to speak with Wadsworth right now. I don't care where he is or what he's doing. Tell her it's vitally important."

Diana dialed. There was a brief argument with someone on the phone, then, "Mr. Wadsworth, this is Diana Matthews. Hold on for my husband, please."

Jeff pulled over to the side, detesting people that talked on a cell while driving all over the road. "This is Jeff Matthews... Yeah, I'm fine, but I haven't got time for the pleasantries right now. I need to put you on alert. I know this is going to sound nuts, but we're on the way to talk to a lady that's about to have her property and home foreclosed on by a bank president and a realtor that I overheard laughing about putting her out and reselling the land to a development company for a lot of money.

"Her husband died last year. Since then someone blew up her silos and burned out her barn with most of her farming equipment in it. I want to pay off the mortgage, and I want to do it today. I heard them say that the foreclosure would take effect at noon tomorrow."

"Mr. Matthews, you know I'm not admitted in Colorado..."

"We've discussed this before," Jeff snarled. "You need to get us someone out here that we can trust, or you need to take their bar exam, or whatever you call it. I'm afraid to use local lawyers that I don't know. They might be in with these two. And I'm afraid to go in that bank without a lawyer, and maybe give them a chance to stall until the deadline is past."

"Easy, Jeff," Diana said, putting her hand on her husband's arm.

Taking a breath, realizing he was pushing too hard, he said, "Look, I'm sorry. I just listened to these assholes for fifteen minutes laughing about taking this widow's property, and I am going to stop it, one way or the other."

Wadsworth chuckled, "Okay, Mr. Matthews, we'll get it done. Uh... my secretary has just told me she has your number on the caller I.D. I've got a friend in Denver. Let me get him on the line. Which city is this supposed to happen in?"

"Winter Park. That's the closest city and that's where his bank is."

"What's the driving time from Denver to Winter Park?"

"Depends on where you are in Denver. From the side nearest Winter Park, about an hour and a half to two hours this time of day, I think."

"Well, lawyers usually drive a little fast," he chuckled. "Mr. Matthews, you realize that pulling him away from what he's on..."

"Just get him here. And make damn sure it's someone that knows what he's doing."

"Get me the name of the bank and the banker's name ASAP. And that realtor too, if you can. I'll get my people on background while your local lawyer is on the way. Chances are, if they're that unscrupulous, there will already be complaints. Keep someone on the phone while you're talking to this lady. I want all the information you can give me, just as soon as you can get it to me."

There was a hesitation, then, "Rachael is already talking to my friend in Denver. Now let me get started with him, and call me back as soon as you have more info."

Jeff closed the phone and handed it back to Diana. Checking for traffic, he pulled back onto the road and pushed the accelerator to the floor.

Martha had sat stunned listening to Jeff's conversation. Figuring out that there was going to be more than one lawyer involved, she leaned forward in the seat, touching Jeff's shoulder. "Mr. Matthews, you know that those lawyers are going to charge, no telling how much, to just drop what they're doing and come way out here. Why are you doing this?"

"Because we can," Jeff and Diana said, almost together.

Diana giggled, and Jeff grimaced.

"We need you to help us convince your friend that we're trying to save her place..."

"Well, I don't know whether I can do that. I mean, I heard what you told that lawyer, but... Well, she's lost it anyway. I suspect she would lots rather anyone else get it than those two."

Wainwright and Margaret sat grinning as the Escalade roared down Highway 40, Dave and Evie in deep discussion in the back.

-------

"Slow down, Mr. Matthews, her driveway is a little dirt road on the right about a quarter mile ahead."

As Jeff turned into the drive, Martha continued. "This is her property on either side of us, but most of the farm lies back behind that long hill in front of us. It's a really nice place. I think she's got about eight hundred acres, if I remember right. She and her husband were doing pretty well until the cancer caught up with him. Their insurance didn't pay for half the hospital bills. She sold off most of her stock trying to keep up."

They topped the ridge to view a large house in the distance, if a little old. There was slightly rolling pastureland on the right side of the road, with flatter land on the left, obviously devoted to hay. There was another large field in the distance which seemed to be standing in corn, and other fields, but Jeff wasn't familiar enough with the local crops to tell what they were at this distance.

As they pulled into the large yard, a U-Haul truck was backed to a side door with two women standing on the porch looking at them. Both were brunettes, one about forty and the other in her early twenties. Both were about five-five, with lean, but shapely figures obvious in the tee shirts and jeans that both were wearing. Both wore well-worn work gloves.

When the Escalade stopped and Jeff stepped out, the older of the women stepped off the steps. "Get off my property. You can't have it until noon tomorrow," she snarled.

Martha came around the side of the Escalade and approached her friend, "Easy Carla. These people have come to help you. And I've heard it all. They're on the up and up. We need to sit down and talk. Mr. Matthews here needs all the information you can give him, as quickly as you can give it to him. He's got lawyers coming to keep your place from being foreclosed on. He's..."

"Oh, my God," the woman said, abruptly sitting down hard in the grass. Then looking up at Jeff, "How can you do this? Why are you doing this? I can't pay you anything. That son-of-a-bitch burned my barn down with my equipment in it, not to say anything about blowing up my silos. I've already sold all my stock trying to keep up with the mortgage and to pay bills. I don't have anything. Even if you got them to put off foreclosing, it won't do any good. I haven't got anything to bring my hay in with, and nothing to feed it to, if I did. My crops are standing in the fields for the same reason. I've tried to sell the place, but the bank blocked the sale."

The younger of the women squatted down beside her mother putting her arm around the older woman's shoulders and hugging her. Looking up at Jeff, she said, "Don't come in here getting our hopes up. There's nothing we can do, anymore."

Martha took Carla's arm, lifting her to her feet. "We've both seen hard times. I think these people are real. And they're rich. Even if the place winds up in their hands, that's better than it going to those two assholes. Now let's get inside and get some coffee. Mr. Matthews needs a lot of information as soon as he can get it. He's got a lawyer from somewhere getting another lawyer out here from Denver. The way I just heard his end of the phone conversation, we need to talk, and talk in a hurry."

Diana brushed by Jeff. "I'm Diana Matthews, and we've come to help you. Can we go sit down and talk?"

"You men stay out here," Diana ordered.

"About all we've got left in the house is the kitchen stuff. But I can get some coffee started," the young woman said, leading the way up the steps.

A little later, Diana sat at the table in the large farm kitchen with a stack of paperwork in front of her, the mother and daughter sitting across from her, daring to hope a little. "How long have you had this property?" Diana asked.

"We've paid on it a little better than fifteen years, and we've never been behind on a payment until they burned my barn down, and blew up my stuff."

"You should have been able to refinance this."

"Not without any equipment or any cattle. I had no way to show that I could make money. I tried everything around here, and that fucker at the bank just turned up his nose at me."

"What about insurance on the barn? Did you have any?"

"Oh, yeah. We paid on that ever since we had the property. But they wanted to give me current value, or some shit. They sent me a check for twenty thousand dollars and change for a barn nearly two hundred yards long, my silos, and all my tractors, cultivating, mowing and bailing equipment. Twenty thousand won't even start to buy used equipment to replace what I had, and everything was in good shape — let alone replace my barn and silos."

"Did you cash the check?"

"Hell no. I'd just have to give it to the hospital, anyway. They're threatening to sue now. And be damned if I'd take that measly payoff for everything I lost, let along turn around and give it to the hospital. A friend of mine had some of the same tests run that Sam had. She showed me where her insurance paid about a tenth what the hospital charged for the same tests, and her bills were marked paid. And I had to pay up front for the tests, even with Sam so sick. Then they billed me for hundreds of thousands of dollars of other stuff. I tried going to the hospital to talk to them, but it's useless. They just keep telling me I have to pay what my insurance didn't. After I've sold off everything, the bill is still over fifty thousand dollars."

Diana frowned, then took a sip of the coffee, "We'll get a lawyer into that later, but first..." she dialed the phone. Turning to Carla, she said, "You listen to everything we say, so you'll know what's going on... This is Diana Matthews. I have the foreclosure notice in front of me as well as the original mortgage... No we don't have a fax here, and we're a long way from our home. I'll read everything to you, and give you the numbers... Okay, here goes."

A few minutes later, Diana burst out the door as Jeff paced in the yard, Wainwright and Dave sitting on the steps. "We've got to get to Winter Park and get to a fax machine. Martha knows where one is. I called the numbers off to Wadsworth, but he got the Denver lawyer on the line with us and he wants us to fax him copies. He's got a portable fax in his car, but we need to hurry before he loses the signal in the mountains."

The Escalade left the yard spitting gravel, then hit 40 and accelerated.

-------

The bank president and an assistant calculated and recalculated as the Denver lawyer, standing, put his hands on the president's desk and leaned forward while Jeff stood glaring. Carla and her daughter sat in chairs, the rest gathered at the door of the office. "I'll say again: give us a payoff total and I'll have a certified check here in ten minutes. Keep stalling and I already have an associate completing the paperwork to the Banking Commission. We'll walk out the door and I'll start things rolling on you. This will be your third complaint, and it will be backed up by my office — documented."

Shortly, a few blocks away in a branch of Jeff's bank, Diana's phone rang. Repeating the figure aloud, she said, "Fine, the accountant and I will be right there with the certified check. They're just waiting to enter the amount."

-------

"Shall I write you a check now?" Jeff said as they stood by their vehicles in the bank parking lot.

"You don't owe me a thing," the Denver lawyer said, trying not to stare at the women. "I'll bill Ted, and he can bill you. But don't shit when you get the bill," he laughed, getting in his car where his secretary was waiting for him, and pulling away without another word.

Jeff stood watching him leave, wondering whether he should curse or laugh.

-------

As they pulled back into Carla's, she just kept saying, "I can't believe this is happening. I had no hope. No hope!"

As they stopped, Martha said, "Carla, I'll come over after I close tonight and help you get your stuff arranged. I've got to get back to my restaurant now," she finished looking at Jeff.

Wainwright and Dave looked at each other, and Frank spoke, "We'll stay and help get her furniture back inside if you want to carry Martha back and pick up your women, Jeff."

"We'll all stay, Jeff. Just go pick everybody up," Diana said.

Dave handed Jeff his keys. "How about having someone drive my vehicle back while I help out here?"

"You bet." Jeff took the keys, thanked Dave, and having his orders from Diana, he grinned and got back into the Escalade with Martha.

"Oh, I hope everything went all right at my place. There were still quite a few customers when we left," she fretted. Jeff just grinned again as he backed up and turned around.

A few minutes later as they parked, Jeff sat for a moment watching Ann washing the outside of the windows with a long-handled squeegee. When they walked by, Martha said, "Child, you don't have to do that."

"Why not?" Ann laughed at them, obviously in a good mood. "There wasn't anything for me to do inside."

Inside, the place was empty of customers. Jennie was washing the inside of the windows. When they came in, she waved cheerily to them with a rag and continued with her job.

As they entered the kitchen, Helen was just finishing scrubbing a large stack of pots and pans. "I'm not sure where all of these go, so I waited for you to show me," she said, her face red from standing over the sink, her pretty dress wet down the front with water and soapsuds.

Arlene had a row of glass coffee pots standing, gleaming on the counter as she leaned over a sink scrubbing out the coffee stain on the last one.

Laura was just finishing scrubbing a now equally gleaming grill as she stood back up. The parts of her beige dress not covered by the apron splattered with grease stains from cooking and cleaning.

Melissa and Fred walked back in with filters that they had carried outside to hose and clean. Fred moved the short stepladder he had found into place and slipped one of the filters into the ceiling vent as Melissa handed him a screwdriver. Her once pretty dress was caked with grease from the filters and cleaning under the tables in the restaurant.

"Oh, my God," Martha said, staring at her thoroughly cleaned kitchen. A moment later in the dining room, she stood turning in a slow circle to view a spotless restaurant, the floors gleaming almost as much as the high-gloss finish on the tables. "I expected to come back to chaos. Where are my waitresses?" she finished, looking around.

"One went to pick up her child at school," Helen said, "and the other is in your office doing the book work."

Joan walked out, having heard Martha. "We had a good lunch hour, and we made more money in tips than we've ever made. The customer's must have liked these people," she laughed. The tip jar is absolutely stuffed.

Jeff saw his daughter's face flush, and knew exactly where the extra money had come from, and Martha, seeing the exchange began to figure it out, but nothing else was said.

"And you people didn't even get to finish you lunch," Martha said, "We'll have to correct that."

"Yeah, I'm still hungry," Jeff laughed. "But let's do this. I want to introduce everyone to Carla and Jessica. And we need to discuss a little business with them as well. Why don't we 'run' do that, then come back here for dinner? Maybe we'll get a chance to finish this time."

"Well, that's just fine, Mr. Matthews, but in this little country restaurant run by this ol' southern gal, we just call it supper. If I had a nice big restaurant, I might call it dinner. But come back and eat supper with us. It's on the house."

"My name is Jeff, please. And we'll do that."

After everyone finished up and Martha's effusive thanks finally wound down, the clan headed back for Carla's, Laura driving Dave's Escalade, following Jeff. As they drove sedately down the road, the girls laughing and regaling each other with their exploits at the restaurant, Melissa said, "Oh, Husband. You should have seen your new wife. She had this enormous heavy boiler in her hands and turned to put it in the sink when she stepped on a wet spot on that slick kitchen floor. She did the splits right there in her new dress."

"Baby, were you hurt?" Jeff quickly asked, looking at Helen.

"No. Nothing but my pride. Then we all got tickled and couldn't stop giggling. I think Joan thinks we're all crazy."

-------

Later, everyone sat in Carla's living room, extra chairs having been brought in from the kitchen by the men. "Okay, Carla, here's where we stand. Like we discussed briefly with my accountant. As of right now, our corporation owns your property — but that's going to change as soon as you two," he said nodding to Carla and Jessica, "and our accountant work out the best way to do things. You said you really didn't use that front forty for much, so if we do get approached by the land development company, that might be a way to go.

"Like we discussed, we can split the profit sixty-forty, with you with the sixty, of course. And I assure you again, and my women will back me," he slipped and said, "We're not in this to make money. We primarily want you to get back to where you were, and maybe a little ahead," he grinned.

Evie and Dave looked at each other and Dave nodded. "Uh, Boss," Evie said, getting his attention. "Cory has two big jobs that will finish in a few weeks. The, uh, planning on the mountain isn't nearly to the stage to need them yet — maybe not until the winter is over for all that work in the open. Why let a land development company make all the money?

"Our company has built many upscale homes, and those rolling hillsides with all those trees would be great for high-end homes. Carla would probably wind up with a lot more working capital in the end. The downside, of course, is she won't have a large lump sum payment for working capital like she would if she sold the property to be developed."

"And she needs just that," Wainwright broke in. "But that can be easily rectified..."

"Yes," Jeff said. "My accountant said that we needed to incorporate the property — the farm — better tax wise, and better insurance rates. Real Insurance. And something about a holding company to manage everything including the sale, or as Evie suggested, the building and sales of the upscale homes — big lots — big money. Right Evie?"

"This area is building so fast," Dave broke in, "that the homes will be sold before we can get them built. We need to build a model home with all the options built in, then let the prospective owners choose what they want from that, or build to their specifications."

"We need to advertise," Wainwright said. "All the way to Denver and Boulder. Billboard size, and extend that into local radio and TV when the model is complete." Turning to Carla, he continued, "I've got professional people in charge of that sort of thing. We can get them involved with no charge to the corporation."

"But we need to get her some working capital into an account so that she can buy her equipment back and get her corn and hay harvested that she told us about. Say a couple of hundred thousand to get her started, then we'll add to it as need be. The corporation's expenses of course, Ma'am. Nothing for you to pay back," Jeff said.

Fred had sat listening, but finally spoke up. "Jeff, it's what, September 10? I'm not familiar with this area, but you can bet that winter isn't far off. Once we start getting a lot of rain, all that hay and corn will ruin, not to say anything about the other crops. I was raised on a farm. Even if these two ladies had all their equipment today, they would never get all that corn in, let alone everything else, and there's no place to put it, anyway. They need help, and they need it right now."

"We would normally use our corn for feed, but without stock, I could sell it and at least pay my fertilizer bill. The SOBs punched a hole in the fuel tanks on my big trucks, but Jess and I ran out shooting when we heard the explosions from the silos, then realized the barn was on fire, and they ran off without setting the trucks. The tanks would have to be fixed before I could carry the corn to market, though."

"Is there a mechanic around that could get them back in shape?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah," Carla answered. "We've used a local guy that has a small shop since... Sam died."

"She's going to need some cash to work with," Jeff said looking at Diana. "How much do we have in the safe?"

"About thirty, maybe a little more."

"Okay, we'll get twenty out tonight when we get home so she'll have something to get started. Billy said that he would have her a corporation checkbook here in the morning. I went ahead and told him to transfer two hundred into the account to get things rolling."

Carla sat confused. Thirty in the safe. Rich people? Why would rich people keep thirty dollars in... ? Then she realized. They weren't talking on that scale. Oh shit. His wife just told him that they had about thirty thousand in the safe. And they're going to bring me twenty thousand dollars cash, and are putting another two hundred thousand into this... corporate account that I can write on.

Her world began to gray out and her face lost its color. As Carla put her hand to her mouth, Jessica grabbed her mother and headed to the nearest bathroom, almost getting there in time.

"What caused that?" Jeff, looking puzzled, asked Wainwright.

"I don't know. Must have been something she ate."

"Men," Evie said getting up to look for a mop, having heard the vomit hit the bathroom floor.

"Now what did we do?" Frank said.

"Search me," Dave answered. "Evie gets like that sometimes."

After setting for awhile, "Jeff," Fred said, leaning closer. "You damn well know this ain't over yet. These women don't need to be left here alone..."

Jeff raised his hand a little, and Fred instantly stopped. "We're all going back to Martha's to eat supper with her. Then Carla and Jessica are going home with us tonight."

"But that won't..." Then Fred saw Jeff's eyes.

"Oh," he said so quietly it was less than a whisper. "Oh."

The discussion went on for a while, then Fred brought something else up. "Uh, Jeff, selling that corn now isn't a good idea. Market price at harvest time is always the pits. We need to figure some way for her to keep her corn and whatever other grain she has. It will sell for a lot more later, or if she could keep it until she buys more stock, she won't have to buy nearly as much feed at astronomical prices. Selling it now would be a big mistake in the long run."

Fred thought for a minute, looking at Jeff, then, "I put some money back when I sold my business. I think we need to look at some temporary structure that will hold her grain until the silos are rebuilt. She's probably got feeding sheds that we can wall in quickly with plywood that will do to hold the grain until we can get something permanent up. If not, we can throw something together, but when that new equipment hits the fields, we're going to need storage then."

Glancing at his friend, Jeff thought, You were a cop for thirty years. Even with selling your business and a couple of good insurance deals, you've bought that big rig. You can't have that much left. Your pension will barely be enough to live on. Yet you're going to pay out a bunch of money for temporarily storage. I guess I need to talk to the accountant again. Should have already had you on the payroll. Hmmm, now how can I get your social, and everything else without you knowing it? Grinning, he said aloud, "I think that's a great idea, Fred. Now you just have to sell it to the boss in there. Uh, the one that's worshiping the porcelain god right now," he finished, hearing the unmistakable sound of a new offering.

Dave spoke up, "Uh, we've poured the foundation and helped install several silos that come as a quick-assemble unit. There's a local outfit that sells and puts them up. I need to look at what's left of her old silos and determine if the concrete foundations can be saved. If they can, we could have something standing in a few days — of course they're expensive..."

"The corporation will pay for it. What do you think Fred? Will that be okay?"

"As long as they can put them up in a hurry."

Jeff turned to Dave, "Check with Carla, see what she needs. Do it. The farm equipment won't take long to buy, we're going to need those silos standing as soon as you can do it."

Dave grinned at Jeff. "You've got it boss. If we have to pour foundations, we'll stick something together and move the grain into the silos when we get them up. That okay with you, Fred?"

"Hell, yeah," Fred said.

A little later Evie came back and sat beside her husband.

"How is she?" Jeff asked, concerned. "Do you have any idea what's wrong with her?"

"You guys really don't know what's wrong with her, do you?" she said looking around at them.

"Uh, we knew it was an upset stomach, of course..." Dave started.

Evie interrupted him, then looked at Jeff. "Those two have had a horrible day. They were leaving almost everything they had left in this world that they loved. Then you suddenly came riding up on your white horse, and within a couple of hours, she had her place back. Then... you casually give her two hundred and twenty thousand dollars, almost as an afterthought. And you don't know what's wrong with her?" Evie sighed.

"But. I didn't mean to upset her. Heck, her worries are over, I don't understand why that would upset her."

Evie just rolled her eyes.

-------

Martha had called Diana's cell and asked if they could wait a while before coming back to the restaurant. Apparently word had gotten around that something had happened, and the place was packed, with a wait of at least thirty minutes.

Jeff had walked around the burned-out barn, sick to see all the equipment that had been lost. After getting bored with exploring, he walked back to the house, bummed a coke, and was now leaning against what had to be a hitching rail in the back yard of Carla's house. The rail was formed out of a tree about six inches in diameter about twenty feet long, attached to two vertical supports.

"The horses were the first thing to go," Jessica said, quietly walking up. She hitched herself atop the other end of the horizontal pole from Jeff, and sat quietly thinking for a time. Turning to him she said, "I've already asked your wife, and Mamma asked you, but I'm still not satisfied. Why would you do this for us? I don't mean to be offensive, and Mr. Matthews we're forever grateful. I just don't understand..."

Jeff sighed and looked over at the pretty young woman sitting on the other end of the rail. "Okay, here it is. This might not be all you want, either. But there just isn't anything else. In short, Diana and I have had to work all our lives. Heck, Laura and Helen, too. Much as you two have done, I imagine, except, of course, the work was different. I'm an electrical engineer. I had an idea, lucked up and sold it for more money than I could have imagined I would ever see. Then we invested in some stock, bought a couple of companies that I had done some engineering product development for, and everything we touched just took off. I just couldn't seem to spend any money — not really. Whatever we touched seemed to come back ten fold..." He stopped mid-sentence, thinking. This time we'll get to help someone and it won't come back. It can't. It will be a long time before the corporation makes any money here — years.

"Anyway, Diana and I aren't into giving to the big charities — oh, we do some, but we like to help people that try to help themselves. And this isn't charity. Remember, those two bozos were out to make money with this place. That's the reason they burned you out and tried to foreclose. If your father hadn't gotten sick, and the hospital sucked up all your money, you would still have made it. Now you will on your own."

Jessica sat quietly for a time, then, "Mother and I got down on our knees last night, for what we thought would be the last time in this house. We prayed for God to send an angel to take care of us. I just realized that He did."

Jeff was thankful that he hadn't just taken a sip of the cola he had in his hand. He knew that he would have choked. He snapped his head around to Jessica. "Lady, you don't know what you're saying. I'm the furthest thing from an angel that you could ever imagine. Diana and I just got lucky, and we try to pass that luck around a little. Hell," he said, deliberately using the word, "this place will make money in a few years. You and your mother will make money. I'll eventually get everything I'm putting in here back. Probably with a lot more attached to it," he exaggerated.

Not fooled by his bluster one bit, Jessica said, "Angel or not, He sent you. Same difference." Smiling as she slid off the rail, she continued, "Deny it all you want, but He did. And in case you think I'm some kind of holly roller, believe me, I'm not. But I'm not an idiot, either." Quickly kissing him on the cheek, she walked back toward the house.

Great! Jeff though, sarcastically. Now that's just great. "Well, shit," he quietly said aloud. Then finishing his drink, he tossed it in a nearby trash pile, deciding to look around some more. He had an idea. Yeah, a damned good idea, he just needed to flesh it out a little more. Yeah, I'll bet Fred will be glad to help. He began his search in earnest, a grin crinkling his eyes.

A little later, his search completed, he went back to the house where Frank was sitting on the porch steps, just finishing a call on his cell. As Jeff sat down beside him on the steps, Frank hung up and grinned at Jeff. "That was Tingle on the phone. He got a wild hair, flew up to Canada yesterday and demoed your radar to the military there. He leaked the trip to the government mole in our company that they think we don't know about. Today," he laughed, "he got an order for two hundred of the units from our government for 'testing' at a discount," Wainwright forced out past a laugh, his voice going into a squeak. "Tingle," he gasped, "'discounted' the two hundred 'test' radars for twice what I was going to sell them to start with. And they know that the 'test' units are way less than half the price of the production model to come," he finished, gasping for air. "Uh, I think you just paid me back my twenty mil out of your royalties, or close to it. Looks like you made some money today there partner."

Jeff sat stunned as Wainwright continued, now lacing his fingers across his belly as he leaned back farther, "Oh, while I'm thinking about it. We took your idea about false-circuiting everything to the point of absolute chaos inside the units, then rigged each so they can't be opened with any of the circuitry left intact inside. Tingle hit the government with the info that we are the only ones to work on the units, then came up with a damn near foolproof way of making sure every unit gets accounted for as they're swapped out for service by us. If any unit is opened we can levy a stiff fine — and I do mean stiff. Well, we didn't call it a fine — but they bought it. They want this thing so bad they're about to shit. Looks like Tingle's little trip to Canada finally got them off the pot."

He sobered for a moment. "I'm almost to the breakeven point on your radar now — and that includes what I paid you for it, and the retreat. The first sales after the test units will all be gravy. Want to borrow another twenty mill? You damn sure paid that back in a hurry," he teased, finally lying back on the steps and chuckling.

"Let's see," he said, starting up again. "What have you done today?"

"Frank."

"Oh, don't be so serious. Now let's see," he said, counting off on his fingers. "First off you got a couple of your wives pissed at you on the range. Fred says that isn't over yet," he chuckled. "Then you decided to carry us all to lunch."

"That wasn't my idea," Jeff tried to interject.

"Then you hear these two idiots bragging about what they were going to do to Carla. By the way. How in the hell did you do that?" When Jeff didn't respond, Frank continued, "Then you decided to take over Martha's restaurant. Put all your women to work."

"Now wait. They were just supposed to wait tables and help with the cooking..."

"Now word has gotten around that's something has happened, and we can't go there to eat yet because the place is running over with customers."

"Well, that wouldn't take much. The place is way too small," Jeff tried to snarl.

"Then you come down here, snatch up this poor woman and her daughter, get a couple of lawyers to stepping and fetching, scare the shit out of the local bank president, form a corporation..."

"I did not. I used mine."

"Talk money to the poor woman until she throws up — and it's only six o'clock. What are you going to do for the rest of the evening?"

Jeff just smiled at him. Oh, if you only knew,  he thought. Oh, if you only knew, you might not be nearly as excited.

-------

After Martha's call, they drove back to the café to find only a few people left in the dining room. But the place looked like it had been hit by a truck. One waitress was frantically busing the big table they had eaten at before.

As Laura walked into the kitchen, she suddenly whirled on Jeff. "Hamburgers," she said, a deep frown on her face. "They must have had an avalanche of customers. Martha is in no shape to cook for us."

Turning to her sister-wife, she simply said, "Come on, Diana."

A few seconds later as Helen entered the kitchen and the door was open momentarily, Jeff heard Martha exclaim in a bewildered voice, "But we were going to cook you a great meal. You can't do this. You can't have hamburgers after what you people have done for my friend..."

The door closed as Jeff starting stacking dirty dishes. As Joan walked by, she said, "Boy, we made some money today. All of us. Martha has never had this many customers in one day. Crap, this place is a mess and it was spotless when you people left."

As she looked around her at the girls, now accompanied by Evie and Margaret, they started cleanup," She exclaimed louder. "We'll do that. Just sit down..."

"You're in the way," Wainwright said, laughing as he walked by with a broom to start at the other end.

Joan opened the kitchen door and started to say, "Martha they're..." but when she saw who was cooking burgers in the kitchen, she changed it to, "Well, shit." Laughing she grabbed a container and handed it to Jeff. "Here put the dirty dishes in this." Then joined in.

An hour and a half later, everyone had eaten and with all the help, the place was again spotless. Diana pulled Jeff aside, the couple now standing in the parking lot just to the right of the building.

"Is that our mountain back there?" Diana said, snuggling to her husband's side.

"Yeah, the one on the right that you can just faintly see where the sun is making the peaks glow a little."

Turning to look up at him, she continued, "Baby, this place is beautiful. The little restaurant is nice, but just imagine," she said, turning to point in a sweeping gesture, "if it was expanded to the right side here and back, say maybe a two story with a big foyer on the bottom floor for guests when they have to wait to be seated. Continue with her wood motif, but put in a lot of glass on three sides. Can you imagine sitting there looking up at our mountain and the others with the sun just touching them, while you eat?"

Hugging him for a moment, she continued, "Jeff, there aren't any nice restaurants out this way. We always go into Winter Park and either eat at the little restaurant there, or to a nice restaurant in one of the hotels. She's only a little way from the state highway, and when you finish with Carla's high-end homes, there will be even more customers.

"She could keep the part she now has for her early customers, or the locals that want to eat there for breakfast and lunch, then open the big place for dinner. Charge big prices. There are a lot of very well off people that live in this area. And in the winter, all the ski tourists will flock to this place. This has to be even more beautiful in the snow."

Looking up at him, her face serious, "She helped her friend today; even risked her own business to do so. We could have screwed up the cooking — well, everything — as far as she knew. Yet she dashed off to help her friend. Let's help her. Jeff, Laura told me that Martha closes on Mondays. Just Mondays. Joan told her that during the early part of the week, they usually get out of here a little after eight — later on weekends. And Martha is back here at five. She's a survivor. She's managed to stay open with a new business, and most small business close in the first two years. She just needs a hand up, she... What are you laughing for?"

"You handle this one. I'm tired. And I still have some things to do tonight."

"Well, I didn't mean right now," she said, then realization struck. "Oh, God, Jeff. I knew you would. You think those assholes are coming back, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said. "That banker was calling his buddy as we left."

"How do you know he was calling the realtor? I can understand that he probably did, but how are you sure?"

Jeff sighed. "As soon as we walked out and closed the door, he started dialing."

"But..."

"I'm still wearing the healer. The different tones on the phone are distinctive. That's the reason I stopped at the pay phone and called. I called the number he dialed. It was the realty company. They'll do it tonight. I know they will. We need to get home. Fred and I have some things to do. "

Diana stared up at her husband's face for a moment, then grabbed him in a tight hug, her body starting to tremble.



-------

Chapter 32

They stood by their vehicles in Martha's parking lot, Carla arguing with Jeff, "But Mr. Matthews. We..."

"Jeff."

"Uh, Jeff ... We can't spend the night with you. I mean ... Why do you want us to do that? I'm afraid to leave. You know that you really pissed Carmichael off. I'm afraid he'll come back tonight..."

"Mother, don't let him talk you into staying, please. That SOB will come back tonight just as sure as we're standing here. The county couldn't find any evidence before, other than a few footprints. He and his 'friends' played cards all night, so they had perfect alibis. They'll do the same thing again. I know they will. We'll be waiting for those bastards this time. They can take them out in a box."

"You two are going home with us," Diana said, stepping into the argument. "You need to listen to my husband about this."

"I need you to play cards with me tonight," Jeff said, an odd expression on his face.

Both mother and daughter stood stunned for a moment. Then, "Oh..." from the mother.

"But Momma, we can't let Mr. Matthews do that. I mean; he's gotten our place back. We can't let him get into trouble. We can handle this."

"He will be watching for you," Jeff said. "Now let's get in the car. We've got to hurry."

"Even if we do go home with you, we've got to stop by the house and pack a bag..."

Jeff looked at Diana, and she responded. "We have everything you'll need. Now come on. My husband will handle this."

Still grumbling, but obviously giving up, the women eventually got into the Escalade.

Since they were sitting in the second seat and couldn't see out the front very well, they didn't get much of a view of the abyss. Even so, they were impressed with how long the driveway was, and how steep. They knew the strong railing was there for a reason.

"How long have you folks lived up here?" Carla asked as the Escalade rounded one of the switchbacks on her side and she peered into the darkness trying to see past the rails.

"Almost three months now," Diana answered. "Is our accent that bad?"

Jessica spoke up. "It would take a lot for us to think anything was bad about you, after saving our property."

"Absolutely," Carla agreed. "And until things settled down a little, I didn't even notice that you had an accent. You don't have as much as Martha does, but she teases us about ours."

Diana glanced back at them. "I have the distinct impression that Martha covers every bit of the ground that she stands on."

"We saw her tear into a drunk one night after he broke a couple of her dishes. She's got a temper. I think the drunk was just glad to be able to pay and get out of there." Carla was silent for a moment, then, "She has it hard. If anyone works more hours than we do, it's Martha."

"It's too bad she doesn't have a larger place," Diana said, looking at her husband, who rolled his eyes.

"She's talked about expanding," Jessica said, "but I don't think she can get enough money put away to even start. And she, wisely, wouldn't try borrowing any money around here. We would have been okay, I think, if that asshole hadn't taken over the bank a couple of years ago, after Mr. Tillery died."

"But don't forget about the hospital. They went through our savings account before Sam even got really bad. We had to have cash up front for all the tests that the insurance wouldn't pay for, or would only pay a small part of. If we could have put the hospital off, we might have made it. But once we sold so much of the stock, we had no way to catch back up. I knew we were done when I made the decision to start selling the stock. You can't run a cattle farm without cattle. To think that Sam worked all those years for nothing..."

"He didn't," Jeff emphatically said. "Trust me. He didn't. That farm will make money again. I just wish your husband could have lived to enjoy it. And we'll get the lawyers into the hospital thing. If they'll take ten cents on the dollar from the insurance companies, a good lawyer might make them change their mind about how much they'll take to mark your bills paid."

As they pulled through the circle drive headed for the back, Carla and Jessica stared out the windows at the front of the retreat. The yard lights were on, but only some of the windows of the building were lit. The women continued mute until the little caravan pulled up to the back door.

"Mamma, look at how many doors there are to that garage," Jessica quietly said to her mother.

"Mr. Matthews..."

"Jeff!"

"Uh, Jeff. Is this a hotel?"

Jeff chuckled as he shut the motor off and opened his door. "I guess you could call it that. Actually, it was Wainwright, Inc.'s retreat or conference center, depending on what they were doing at the time, I guess. Frank Wainwright," he said, nodding to him as he got out of one of the other Escalades, "used it as part of the payment for my invention, as I mentioned before.

"As we told you, we're just working people that got lucky. Diana, Laura and the rest can fill you in on the details, but welcome to our home. Fred and I have some things to do, and we've got to hurry, so just, please follow Diana's instructions about tonight."

"Mr. Matthews, we don't want you to get into trouble. Like Jess said, we can take care of this ourselves. I'm very uncomfortable with this. What are you going to do?"

"Only what we have to. Don't worry; I think this will work. Most of it isn't even original. I'll talk to you before we leave."

Jeff got out of the vehicle and called the girls over. "How about a tour for our guests," he said.

Arlene and Ann looked at each other for a second. "We'll do it Dad. Come on Carla. We'll show you and Jessica around. We've got a nice suite waiting for you, and Dad says we're going to celebrate you getting your place back." But the glance Arlene gave her dad was troubled.

-------

Dave had argued vehemently to go with Jeff, but Jeff had finally won in the end. "All that you have to remember is that we were all celebrating in the living room when you told us good night. You and Evie need to get up early in the morning for work."

"All right, Boss. But I still don't like it," Dave said. "And you damn well better call me if I can help."

Jeff assured him that he would call if he needed anything else. A little later, Jeff, Diana, Laura and Fred sat in the kitchen while Arlene and Ann gave Carla and Jessica a tour. "You up for helping me tonight, Fred?"

Fred chuckled, looking at the twenty penny nails and the hammers that Dave had gotten for Jeff setting on the table. "Cat got a climbing gear?"

"Okay." Turning to the two women, Jeff said, "Turn about is fair play, as they say. Set up some card games, watch a movie — one that I've seen before, maybe have Jessica play some video games with the girls. Fred and I were here celebrating with everyone all night about getting Carla's property back."

Frank walked in. "What's going on Jeff? I know you're going to do something, but I couldn't hear what you were telling those women while you were standing in the parking lot."

Jeff looked up at Frank as he stood by the table. "Get some coffee and have a seat, please." When Frank sat down, Jeff continued, "I heard a beep on your phone when I called Wainwright, Inc., and I've heard the recording notice. Is that for real?"

Frank blew on his coffee, then replied, "All the main lines are recorded. We keep the recordings for a year. We have some lines that aren't recorded, though."

"Do you think you could have Tingle call a couple of times tonight on a recorded line to ask you a question that couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

Frank sighed, "I thought you were going to do something. What are you going to do?"

"Hopefully, not much. But things go wrong sometimes. You don't have to be any part of this, Frank. But if something does go wrong, that recording with mine and Fred's voices in the background while your vice president talks to you, might be a big help."

Frank sat for a moment thinking. "Are you going to kill them?"

"I've already said that I wasn't going to do much. Killing is a bit more than much."

Frank sighed. "Ah, shit. You've shared your fountain of youth with us. Margaret looks ten years younger, and I guess I do, too. I couldn't buy that anywhere for any amount of money. Yeah, I'll do it. What else do you need me to do?"

Jeff shifted in his chair. "Will, Tingle do it? Without question?"

Wainwright looked his friend in the eye, "Hell, I've asked him to do stranger things. He'll probably be working half the night after getting that order, anyway. What time does he need to call?"

"I'll let you know later. Dave and Evie have already gone to their apartment. They can't stay for the party because they have to get up early for the crews. How about Margaret, will she go along with this?"

"Hell, it's me that's the wimp. She would go with you if you would let her."

"Okay, Diana and Laura already know what's going down. You folks need to party. Fred and I need to make some recordings. Oh, yeah, do you have any Viagra, Frank?"

Frank looked at Jeff like he had lost his mind. "I know damn well you don't need Viagra. And, I don't, now. Yeah, I've got some. How many do you want?"

"About four of the one hundreds will do."

Frank grinned. "Be right back."

"I'm going to need a couple other things from some of you, Baby," he said looking at Diana.

-------

Jeff and Fred stepped out into the hallway. "Wear something that you don't mind giving up. We're going to burn everything later."

"Shit, all I've got is old. I've got a worn-out pair of sneakers that I want to change into, though. Do you have any night vision stuff?"

"Yeah, that's where we're going now. It's all in the basement."

A couple of minutes later, Jeff opened a box and took out some of his night vision equipment. "This is an AN/PVS-7D that I used to sell to police departments. They're generation three electronics, but they'll do just fine for us. There won't be much moon tonight and it will rise late, but it's clear, and starlight will be plenty with this outfit."

"You only have one?"

"Well, yeah. One of these. I've got some night vision scopes, but this equipment is expensive and I only had one in stock when I sold my invention." Seeing Fred's apprehension, he quickly continued, "Fred, that one's yours."

"And what are you going to use?"

"Well, I, uh. Damnit Fred, I'm going to say it. Just trust me, please. You trusted me coming into your bedroom in the middle of the night, and I know that had to have been weird, just..."

"Jeff, why in the fuck don't you just tell me what's going on? You know damn well that you can trust me."

"Oh, crap, Buddy," Jeff said looking away. "I can't. I know it isn't right for me to ask you to stick your neck out, then just tell you to trust me, but ... like your old expression, I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Fred I..."

"Oh, hush. If you can't, then you can't. Sounds like some of your military bullshit, anyway. But I want you to know that I ain't happy about it. Dangling something like this in front of a retired cop, with my curiosity, is the pits. Fuck, I won't be able to sleep for a week trying to figure out what's going on."

Hesitating for a moment, looking at his buddy, Jeff finally said, "Okay, let's get you checked out on this..."

"Ah, come on Jeff. Don't talk down to me," Fred broke in. "I was in the reserves for all those years that I was a cop, and you're going to teach me to use this shit?"

"Okay, okay. I guess I am a little uptight."

"So, I still don't understand what you're going to do. Unless you carry a light, you're not going to see much out there tonight. And I doubt if even that asshole is dumb enough to bring a flashlight with him."

"Fred, just stop worrying. I'll be able to see just fine. Now we need to get a plastic drop cloth to put in the back of the Escalade."

"What the crap do we need that for? If we don't kill anybody, there won't be any forensics."

"Well, let's just say, the best laid plans and all that. Let's do it right. Better to throw it away later than to wish we had brought it with us."

-------

"Okay, here they come," Jeff whispered. "You're sure you have the camera on manual focus?"

"Yeah, Jeff, it is. We've checked it twice. When they get to that rock we put in the path for a distance marker, I'll start snapping."

"Don't forget to take your goggles off. You don't want to see that flash through them."

"There you go talking down to me again. Ease up; you're too stressed. You just stun their asses. I'll get the pictures."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Fred. I just want this to go perfectly. I don't want to have to hurt anyone," Jeff whispered. "I just want to make damn sure we have those pictures."

Jeff, with his healer enhanced vision, watched the banker come down the path lugging a five gallon can of gasoline, while the realtor carried a cardboard box. Jeff stood to the side of the trail from the back road to the house. Suddenly the night flared with light as Fred triggered the camera in burst mode, the high-end camera setting off the big flash through a series of pictures.

The two stood transfixed for a second. That was all Jeff needed. Stepping up, garbed all in black, wearing a ski mask, his face also blacked out, and black gloves, he hit each man with the heel of his hand just above the collar bone as it joins the neck, an area called the brachial plexus origin. The system of nerves overloaded the brain; each man grunted and collapsed.

Fred set the camera down and ran up. "Shit. This fucker has a box full of Molotov cocktails," he exclaimed, pulling the box aside. "Two of them broke. There's gas everywhere."

"You think the pictures are okay?"

"Hell, yes. I took the first burst with the camera on manual still with the same focus we had set. Then I changed to auto-focus and shot another burst. They'll be good."

While Fred was talking, Jeff was unbuttoning. "Hurry up. I don't want to have to stun them too many times. This one is already coming around. It only lasts a minute or less unless you hit them really hard," he said, whacking the banker into dreamland again.

"Shit, I practiced that at the department, but never really got to try it on the street," Fred said, unbuttoning the cowboy shirt worn by the realtor.

Shortly the realtor struggled to set up. "Whap."

"Yep, it works," Fred chuckled, as the realtor collapsed again.

Jeff finally relaxed a little, now not worried about their plan. Listening to Fred's altered voice with the mouthpiece almost made him want to laugh out loud. "Hurry, we need to get them on the stumps and get this going."

-------

Dunleavy woke without his five hundred dollar cowboy boots, or anything else on. "What the fuck?" he moaned. His neck felt like he had stuck it in an electrical socket, and his ass itched.

Looking around in the starlight, he could barely make out two figures standing near him. When they spoke, their voices seemed to echo and groan out the words. When he tried to stand, his body hardly moved. Straining his eyes, he could barely make out that he was somehow attached to a stump — totally naked. His legs were tied, and as he tried to free them, he rubbed the inside of his ankle against something metal. Peering down, he thought it was a nail driven into the side of the stump. The rope tying his legs was attached to the nail. He began to get a really bad feeling about this.

He had tried to tell Carmichael that this wasn't a good idea — to wait for a few weeks. But no ... he insisted that the bitches wouldn't be expecting anything so soon.

Carmichael groaned and cursed. "What the fuck?"

The men were sitting astride their stumps about fifteen feet apart, their backs toward each other. After struggling for a couple of minutes, their captors letting them realize for themselves that they were securely attached to the stumps, they quit actively trying to escape. "What the fuck do you want?" Carmichael belligerently asked.

"Oh, we've got what we want," one of the barely-seen figures answered, his eerie voice sending chills up both captives spines. "You seem a little too persistent in your dealings with the lady that owns this place. So tonight we're going to give you a choice."

"What fucking choice?" Carmichael demanded. "Your asses are going to jail for this."

"Oh, you come in here with five gallons of gasoline and a box full of Molotov cocktails, and you think we're going to jail. Not hardly. In case you didn't notice, Idiot, we took a whole bunch of pictures of you two ready to burn her out, not to say anything about killing those two women in that house when you did. But right now, that's not your problem. Your problem is that you've got to make a decision."

"Fuck you! I don't have to do shit."

"Uh, Ben. I think we need to maybe listen to them," Dunleavy said, while trying to adjust his bare ass away from a sharp place on the stump. Craning his neck to look behind him, Dunleavy continued, "What kind of, uh, decision do you want us to make?"

"Oh, it's really simple," one of the eerie voices suddenly whispered into his ear, making him jump, which hurt his ass again. We're just going to nail your dick to the stump, set the stump on fire with your own gasoline, and hand you a knife. You ought to be able to cut the rope where your hands are tied behind you in a few seconds, then..." the whispering voice chuckled, the echoes making it almost impossible to understand,... then, you have to make a decision."

"Oh, shit," Dunleavy whispered, unconsciously lowering his voice.

"What the fuck is he saying to you?" Carmichael demanded to know just as the world went totally black as Jeff pulled a black knit toboggan cap down over Carmichael's head. Shortly, Dunleavy whimpered as the same thing was done to him. Then Carmichael got the explanation.

"You're, fucking, bluffing," he bellowed, but when he smelled the gasoline and heard it being poured on the stump near his legs, he lost some of his assuredness.

"I want to be the one that lights this guy," one of the eerie voices said. "I just plain don't like his fat ass."

"Okay, you do him. I'll do the other one. But don't forget to put the knife in his hand. I want to see him make his decision."

Suddenly a voice quietly whispered in Carmichael's ear. "We've been watching you for awhile. If being a dickless wonder doesn't change your ways, we'll be back in this state to finish the job. Oh, by the way, if anything happens to those two women — anything. You won't live to see the next day. If their equipment suddenly breaks down, they have a rash of bad luck, anything. Next time we won't fuck around. Oh, yeah. I hope you got some pussy lately — it was your last."

Over the pungent smell of fresh urine and a whining Carmichael, "You got the video camera?" one of the voices asked in an uneducated drawl.

"Yeah."

"Okay, make sure it's set on the night thing with the infrared lights. It's good to about twenty feet. I want to be able to watch this again, and again. Shit we'll get a chuckle out of this ten years from now. And we can show it to the rest of the guys. They might want to use our technique."

"Well, I still think that shooting the fuckers would have been a lot easier, but this has been fun. Watching them make their decision will be fun, too. We gonna do them one at a time?"

"Nah, just set the camera up on the tripod. We'll do them both at once. Get the hollering over with."

Again struggling unsuccessfully with his bonds, "Now wait a minute, guys. We can work a deal on this," the banker whined louder, failing completely to keep the terror out of his voice.

By now the realtor was sobbing, "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. It was his idea."

"Too fucking late," a voice whispered.

Both men felt a sharp pain as their dicks were jerked harshly straight out in front of them on the stump. Then a stinging pain at the base of their cocks, and the sound of a nail being hit hard, twice with a hammer. Then the sound of a Bic lighter. The world went black for both of them almost simultaneously.

"Shit," Fred said, "I hated touching that son-of-a-bitch's dick."

"Well, if you hadn't pushed down on the base of his dick, hard with your fingernail, he would never have thought that real nail went into it. Might as well give each of them another hard whack. We don't want them waking up while we get them loose."

-------

The Escalade drifted into Winter Park. "Shit, Jeff, if we get caught with these fuckers tied up in the back, we'll be in jail for the rest of our lives."

"We're not going to get caught."

"Well, shit, there's the police station. I guess that's a start."

"Good, I want them to see us. We've come to town to get some diarrhea medicine for Diana at the 24-hour convenience store."

A couple of blocks later, "I'm going to pull up at the café over there. Put their clothes out on the curb in front."

"Oh, shit," Fred chuckled as he put the two bundles of folded clothes, boots and shoes on the sidewalk, then casually walked over to the newspaper box, put his money in and got a paper. Getting back into the vehicle with the newspaper, he said, "Okay, where to now?"

Jeff motioned with his head as they drove off. "Slide back there and whack them again. One of them is moving. Give them both a good one so they'll stay out while we finish."

A few minutes later, Fred and Jeff stood in the all-night convenience store talking to the clerk. "You sure this stuff works?" Jeff asked doubtfully. "She's really got it bad."

"Yes, Sir. It's good. I've used it myself," the clerk said, bored to tears that Jeff had stood reading the label for what seemed like forever before deciding.

"Well, okay. But I think I'm going to get this Pepto as well. We live way up on the mountain, and if this doesn't work, I don't want to have to drive back down here tonight. We were having a party and she must have eaten something that didn't agree with her."

Jeff tried to pay with a hundred dollar bill, but the clerk pointed to a sign that said they could not cash anything bigger than a twenty after 11:00 P.M. Fumbling, Jeff finally found a twenty and paid for his purchases.

Outside, as they got back in the SUV, Fred burst out laughing. "He'll darn sure remember us. And ... exactly what you bought. He was just a little bit irritated at you," he finished, holding up his index finger and thumb almost together to show how much.

-------

"I wonder how long it will take those fuckers to find their vehicle?" Fred said later as the Escalade wound its way home.

"Hah," Jeff laughed. "I bet they don't even look. They think it's behind Carla's. They'll just report it stolen. No telling how long it will take for someone to stumble across it."

"We should have burned it. What goes around comes around," Fred allowed.

"Nah," I've broken enough laws tonight. "Besides the insurance company would have to pay for it. This way, it will turn up eventually."

"Oh, shit, Jeff. We had to miss the best part, though. I would love to see that cop's face when those two stagger down to the station and start beating on the door. That red scarf tying their dicks together is going to send a strong message."

"They won't be beating on the door," Jeff laughed, "They'll have to kick it. I don't think they're smart enough to realize those are slip knots around their wrists with a lot of extra rope wound around to make them feel like they're tied securely."

"Yeah," Fred chuckled, "but those cops will figure it out in a heartbeat as soon as they start to untie the idiots. Both of those fuckers nude with their dicks sticking straight out, and that long nylon scarf firmly tied to the base of each of their cocks. And them not really tied. They could have done it to themselves, and the cops will think that, no matter what those two say. But the cops will be half the night getting that scarf off their dicks."

"Hah," Jeff laughed. "How many cops do you know who would untie those knots? Bet they'll get a ride to the hospital in an ambulance to have a doctor, or some poor nurse, cut those knots loose. Tying them while they were soft, before the Viagra took effect will make it really hard to get to the knots. They can explain all they want to about being abducted, but when someone finds their clothes in front of that restaurant in the morning, all nicely folded, all anyone will remember was that red scarf tying their dicks together. And don't forget about the erections. Hell they were mostly out when we forced those two Viagra down each of their throats. They probably won't remember it. Particularly after we stunned them again. That brachial stun does a job on your short-term memory."

Fred looked over at Jeff as they climbed the mountain. "I'll bet they remember having their dicks 'nailed' to those stumps though. But I'll be glad when we get home and can get that drop cloth out of the back and burn it. I don't know why I didn't expect them to shit on themselves. They damn sure had a lot of it, though." Crap, it stinks in here even with the windows all down."

"Reminds me, we need to get rid of those nails we pulled out of those stumps, before we get back."

"Yeah. Pull over. I'll throw them off this cliff. They'll never be found in this wilderness, not that it makes a fuck, anyway."

Jeff sighed and glanced over at his friend as he turned back to Jeff after throwing the nails away. "Fred, I'm sorry I had to ask for your help. Having a retired cop do what I asked you to do..."

"Hush a minute before you get too melodramatic there partner," Fred said, laughter in his voice. "First of all, I haven't had that much fun in a long time. And second, do you really believe that I haven't done something similar during my career. The first big case I had as a detective, I went strictly by the book. Treated the fucking dope dealer killer with kid gloves. Told the witness that everything would be alright, that the killer was in jail." Fred hesitated for a minute.

"Three days later they had another bond hearing and the fucking judge reduced the bail to twenty-five thousand dollars on a murder one case. My witness..." he said, "was stabbed, with her three-month-old baby in her arms, before the night was over. The DA dismissed the murder charges. No witness. I've had more than one 'prayer meeting' with guys after that. I never went the full vigilante routine — but I considered it after that young woman was killed.

"Somebody else got him a couple of years later, though. No telling how many people he had killed by then. Of course, he had an ironclad alibi when the witness was killed. But somebody shot the fucker in the back of the head with a 9 mil one night. He had so many enemies in his own camp — other dope dealers — that the killer was never found. I hope it wasn't a cop," he finished, quietly.

A little later, they pulled into the back. As soon as Jeff opened the Escalade's door, he was mobbed by the girls.

Laughing, Fred got out. Coming around to Jeff's side of the vehicle, the retired detective said, "Well, I guess they were worried about you..." But he found out that they were worried about him, too.

While they were giving him his hugs and thanking him for taking care of their husband, Melissa said, "Whew, what is that smell?" Then the girls looked at each other and started laughing.

Jeff opened the back and took the folded drop cloth out. "We'll vacuum for you, Dad," Arlene said, holding her hand out for the keys. "And we'll spray the inside with an aerosol, too." she finished, giggling. "Must have really scared their asses," she finished.

Jeff frowned at her for her language. "Look, Baby. The less you know about this the better. We didn't really hurt anybody, but..."

"Oh, Daddy, we know that. But we watch Forensics, too. We'll do a good job, then burn the trash from the vacuum cannister."

Jeff looked at her and grinned, "Anything to get to drive a little, huh?"

"You betyuh," she laughed grabbing the keys and hollering for the others to get in. Then rolling the window down, she leaned out and added, "There's a list of things on the kitchen table for each of you. It's what we did and what we talked about tonight. Each list is a little different so your stories won't be exactly the same. But don't you two tell what happened until we get back inside. Don't you dare," she finished.

Jeff stood back as his daughter backed the Escalade up a bit, then drove around toward the back of the garage, his young wives obviously having a ball. The Escalade suddenly stopped and Ann stuck her head out the window, "Your clothes are on the back steps so you don't have to go inside before you burn them." Her head went back inside, the window went up and the Escalade disappeared behind the garage on the way to the vacuum.

"Just how many times have you done this shit?" Fred asked in a mock stern voice.

"Well, counting this time... ? Once," Jeff laughed.

Fred chuckled as they picked a dark spot and stripped off their clothes. A few minutes later, having donned fresh outfits, they threw their clothes and the stinking drop cloth into the incinerator. Fred said, "I thought incinerators were illegal now. Not that anyone would ever know way out here."

"Oh, most of them are, but then again, this was Wainwright's place. With all the oxygen flow, the hydrogen and all the filters, this thing is approved anywhere. The only thing that isn't consistent with it is that he only built one of them. His motto of, if its expensive buy several, must not apply with jets and incinerators," he laughed.

"How do you know that he didn't build two?" Fred said, reasonably.

Jeff laughed at himself. "You're probably right. I'll bet he built several for his company, and just put one of them out here. There's bound to be a lot of his secret stuff that he wants to make absolutely sure that no one can read his paperwork or look at the prototypes. But believe me, nothing comes out of this thing. Nothing."

Back at the house, they picked up their other articles that they had left on the back steps. Let's get this wiped down and back in its original box, and Dave's hammers taken care of. He told me where to put them so that his carpenters will never know that they were gone.

In the kitchen, they read over their night of celebration. When they were done, the girls now back, Jennie picked up their lists, took them to the incinerator and destroyed them.

Jeff poured them a second cup of coffee. As they stood before going to the living room, Jeff asked, "Well detective, have we missed anything?"

Fred looked at Jeff, a grin on his face, "Their word against ours. If they're dumb enough to go that route. I wonder who they played cards with tonight? I'll bet we have more 'witnesses' than they do, and if it comes down to it, I'll bet those girls could convince any jury that we had a hell of a party here tonight. Did you prompt them on the vacuuming and stuff?"

"You know I didn't."

"Yeah, I know you didn't. I mean; they look like teenagers. They're beautiful and all that, but they're so smart ... shit, they just amaze me, that's all. And they don't fight. And they have the most ... heck, what do you call it? Teamwork, I guess. I've sat there at the table and watched them cooking our meals. There doesn't seem to be a bit of wasted motion. And every one of them, the women included, seem to know just what to do to make everything come together at the same moment. And you should have seen them in that restaurant. Arlene had Joan show them how to run the register and how to write up the tickets with the prices on them from the menu. It was all over then," he laughed.

"I saw them getting cash out of their purses. Every time the waitresses were tied up on something else, one of the girls would stuff tips into the jar. They were afraid to put twenties in because the waitresses would figure out where the extra money came from, so they just put tens, fives and ones, with a few twenties thrown in like someone got change so they could tip.

"And your doctor cleaned one of the restrooms when she got caught up in the kitchen, and I do mean cleaned. They were all laughing and having a ball. There were a couple of grumpy customers in the beginning before everyone got organized, but even they had to give up and enjoy their meal. That woman needs a bigger restaurant. She would make a ton of money."

"Oh, don't you start," Jeff said, laughing as he pushed the kitchen door open for them. "Let's go celebrate Carla and Jessica's getting their farm back, and then it will be time for our morning run."

"Ain't gonna happen," Fred drawled, then "It is not going to happen. I'm going to drink this cup of coffee, say hi to your women, and crash. I'm too old for this shit."

"Yeah, right," Jeff laughed. "I'm impressed. Mean old man nailing that poor banker's dick to that stump..."

The door closed as they turned toward the living room, both men chuckling.

-------

2:10 A.M. Winter Park police station

Officer Dale Johnson was finishing writing an arrest report after securing his prisoner in the jail — a drunken tourist who hadn't yet learned to shut his mouth when the cops arrived. Dale wondered if he ever would. The guy had gone to the bar with his wife. They had been arguing and he had been repeatedly told by the bartender to either shut up or leave.

The bartender had put up with the arguing for a while, but when he refused to serve the drunk on last call, telling him that he already had enough, the hothead had exploded. Having had his limit of crap, the bartender called the cops. When Dale had gotten there and tried to talk to the bartender, the drunken idiot apparently thought that calling Dale "Barney Fife" was hilarious. Everything went downhill from there. When Dale attempted to put the cuffs on him, he snatched away. Two shots of pepper gas later, loudmouth was whining and slinging snot.

Dale had been good enough to wash the drunk's eyes and face with two-liter bottles of water that he kept in the trunk for that purpose. At the jail, with three showers, and a lot of soap later, the drunk was sleeping like a baby on one of the steel bunks in the drunk tank. Of course, the drunk's wife — not quite sober herself — had been at the jail for the last fifteen minutes trying to get her "dear husband" released. She left after Dale told her she was about to be next.

Just as Dale finished the report and was thinking about seeing what his wife had packed for his lunch, someone kicked on the front door.

It's open, Stupid,  Dale thought. All you have to do is turn the knob.

Seeing two white males without shirts through the glass, he sighed, and got up to see what was going on. As he got closer to the half-glass door, he recognized them.

Carmichael and Dunleavy, the two sorriest shits in town. And what the fuck are they doing without shirts? They're always dressed like they own the planet.

Opening the door, he froze for a second. Both men were totally nude — well, nude was too nice a word for these two. They were naked. Carmichael's pot gut was hanging out over his dick that was sticking almost straight up. As Dale's eyes followed the bright red scarf (it must be silk, he thought) to Dunleavy's dick, Dale lost it.

Seeing the look on their faces, not to mention one being skin and bones and the other being fat, with that scarf, was more than he could take. The beginning chuckles changed into guffaws.

"I'll have your job," Carmichael snarled. "Get our hands untied!"

"Oh, you're going to get my job now, are you? Well, I hope the hell you make more money at it than I do. Of course, I'm honest,  and that tends to be a real drawback."

"Shut up Ben," Dunleavy said.

"Get me out of this shit!" Carmichael demanded. "I want to swear out a warrant..."

"SHUT UP BEN!" Turning back to Dale, who now had a video camera in use, Dunleavy said, "Please turn that off, officer. We've just had a little too much to drink, and got carried away. Don't pay any attention to him."

"Well, now. If there's been a crime committed, I need a recording of your condition," officer Johnson said in his best official voice. Well, until the last word. "Condition," went a little high as he fought to keep the laughter from escalating into giggles.

Carmichael started to bluster again, but Dunleavy 's voice overrode him. "Shut up Ben! Let me handle this."

"Officer, just untie us, please."

"All right. All right," Johnson said, locking the camera safely away, trying to focus on the face of the two men, but his eyes kept straying to their dicks with the pretty bows on each end of the bright red scarf. "Turn around," he managed to gasp out, "and I'll untie you."

Frowning, the officer unwound several feet of nylon rope from Dunleavy's wrists, then stopped. Pressing his lapel mike button, he said, "203 to 202."

"202."

"Uh, 10-21. You've got to see this."

"203, I'm about halfway through gassing my vehicle. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Hang the hose up and get here now."

"On the way!"

Johnson unlocked his desk drawer and got the video camera out again.

"What's happening?" Dunleavy asked, beginning to feel nauseated. "Why did you call your buddy? Will you, please, get these ropes off us?"

"That's enough with that damn camera," Carmichael said. "I'll get that tape, anyway. I'll sue your ass."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BEN!"

Blue lights lit the front of the station accompanied by a scream of tires as 202 arrived. As he ran into the front of the station, expecting anything but what he saw, he stopped.

"What do you notice about how these men are tied up, officer Holdridge?" Johnson asked, obviously speaking for the camera that was still running.

"Well, they're..." Holdridge started, then, "Hey, they aren't really tied. All this," he said, unwinding rope from Carmichael, "is just wound around with a couple of slip knots. They can easily get out of the slip knots."

"Look on the other side," Johnson said, backing up with the camera.

Holdridge tried to not lose it, knowing he was on camera, and was mostly successful. Gasping, he quietly, but distinctly asked Carmichael, "Is that real silk, or just nylon?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Carmichael snarled.

"Oh, I don't know," Holdridge said carelessly, "I thought that since you are so intimately familiar with the scarf that you could tell us."

"Get these fucking ropes off us!" Carmichael screamed.

Holdridge, now pissed, said, "Get them off yourself. It looks like you put them on yourselves. You're not tied. And we've got better things to do than be part of your little games," his voice now showing a trace of anger. "Even at this hour, there's an occasional lady coming through. The convenience store is only a couple of blocks away. Looks to me like I see a couple of cases of Indecent Exposure. You're both naked, and there seems to be some type of sexual gratification involved," he finished looking pointedly at the two erections joined with a scarf.

"Look you two hicks. I'm going to sue both of you assholes. I'll own your fucking houses before the month is out. You sons-of-bitches won't have a pot to piss in."

Dunleavy groaned, knowing Carmichael had crossed the Rubicon.

Seething, Johnson put the camera on his desk, making sure it was still trained on the two, "We'll put these two in with the obnoxious drunk I just arrested. They should all get along splendidly."

"Wait a minute," Carmichael said. "How are we going to get this scarf off our dicks?"

"No problem at all," Holdridge said, opening his pocketknife.

-------

Later, as they finished up the arrest reports, Johnson said, "I still say I've never seen two grown men faint like that. What do you suppose got the matter with them? Hell, you didn't even nick them when you cut that scarf off them. And that little bitty pocketknife of yours couldn't have been what did it."

"Damn, if I know," Holdridge said, "We've got the whole thing on video. Let the judge sort it out. Those two are weirdos though. But shit, running around without a stitch on with their dicks tied together is something new to me. Marge isn't going to believe this shit. She'll think I made it up for sure."

Turning to the other officer, he continued, "Say, we need to make some copies of that video before the lawyers get involved. Damn, as many people as these guys have screwed, it would just be terrible if somehow the video got loose," he sardonically said. "Now, of course, after we make copies, we'll make absolutely sure that the tape is secured from any possible tampering before it goes to court as evidence. Probably somebody in the court system just had to make copies. Of course, the copies won't get out until after court. Boy, you just can't get responsible people any more."

Johnson chuckled. "Dunleavy seems like he's seen the light, but Carmichael will probably do his best to fight this in court. But when he does, the judge will break it off in their ass. If I remember right, our infamous banker tried to foreclose on the judge's nephew's property. And, the city council chewed the chief's ass out about not enforcing the law when that bunch of drunks all went skinny-dipping at the motel. That woman with the two kids was raising hell because he didn't arrest anybody. Now this. The judge will bust their ass, and the chief will back us to the hilt. If the assholes do sue, the city council will have to back us as well, after chewing the chief's ass. Win — win."

"202 — 203," the dispatcher said over their radios.

"202 and 203," Johnson answered for both of them.

"10-43 code 4 at the BP station." Which translated into, "You have a fight at the BP station. Knives involved."

"202 and 203, 10-4," Johnson answered, then to Holdridge, "Well, shit. I might as well save my lunch for breakfast. Then again, the day shift will be here before we complete the paperwork on this one."

"Fuck," Holdridge said, heading out with Johnson. "Why don't these people ever go to bed?"



-------

Chapter 33

The Matthews clan, along with Margaret, Wainwright, and Fred were gathered in Carla's large living room. Seeing the manila folder that Carla had brought with her, Jeff said, "I hope you did as we asked, got on the net, and picked out the equipment you want. And I'll say it again, so you'll know that we're dead serious. We want that equipment to be the absolute best there is. You pick it solely for what it will do. You let me worry about the price."

Carla looked at her daughter, then back at Jeff. "Mr. Matthews..."

Jeff cleared his throat.

"... Jeff. We got up early and got on the net. We did what you asked, but we can get by just fine and save several thousand dollars. Even though you're buying this, I've got to think about paying it back..."

"No, you haven't," Diana broke in, beating her husband by a heartbeat. "The corporation is paying for this, and we expect to operate at a loss for several years. Now, please pay attention to what my husband says."

Fred spoke up. "We've got to get your crops in and do it in a hurry, as you probably know better than any of us. Another thing, we want enough equipment. If one tractor is baling hay, we don't want to have to wait to use that tractor to pick up the hay and move it to the barn, or wherever you're going to store it. We're going to get some help in, and we don't want someone standing around because he or she doesn't have equipment to work with. As you know," he said, looking at Carla and Jessica, "time, as they say, is of the essence." A little embarrassed for taking over for Jeff and Diana, he wound down.

"Sorry," he said to Jeff.

Jeff laughed. "Why should you be sorry? Maybe she will listen to you." Standing, he continued to everyone, "Fred and I have to check on something. We'll be back in a bit, then we'll head out for Denver."

As Jeff and Fred walked out the back and down the steps, Jeff said, "Let's break one of those busy limbs off that tree over there, and make sure everything is cleaned up from last night."

A few minutes later, they finished brushing the area around the stumps of any possible footprints, then retraced their steps toward the house, doing the same thing. "If those two idiots do start telling the cops their story, all I want them to find is the gasoline can and the Molotov cocktails, plus their footprints coming from the back road to where we intercepted them. There are a couple areas where there isn't grass where we walked, and only a few partial footprints showed up, anyway. Now everything is gone."

"Jeff, I'm with you. Might as well be as careful as we can be, but they didn't have anything left in them last night. They pissed or shit it all out," he laughed. "I'd be amazed if they have balls enough to go to work. No matter what they told the cops, when someone brings their clothes in, billfolds and money intact, from a block or two away from where we put them out, the cops aren't going to believe a damn thing they say."

When they got back to Carla's house, Fred threw the limb on the trash pile and set it afire. Standing up and stretching his back, he looked at Jeff and burst out laughing. "Shit, Buddy. Even with the loss of sleep, I feel like a million dollars today. I just wish that Brenda... Crap, I wish I would quit doing that."

"Why?" Jeff asked, putting his hand on Fred's shoulder. "Brenda would have loved seeing those two assholes get what was coming to them. Quit worrying when you mention her name. She's part of you and always will be. And when you feel like shedding a tear for her, do it. If somebody doesn't like it — fuck um, and feed um beans — right?"

Fred laughed as they turned toward the house. "Damn, Jeff, that was elegantly put," he chuckled.

"Damned straight," Jeff responded, pouring on the accent.

As they got back inside, Diana handed him her phone. "Dave is on the line," she said.

Jeff sat down in a chair beside her. "Yeah, Dave."

"Boss, I've just bought three silos. The company that makes them is starting the loading now. They claim that they will get at least one up tonight, and Carla will have three silos up and ready to receive grain by tomorrow night. They're sending extra people. I spent a ton of your money. I got the best deal I could on short notice, but..."

Jeff broke in, "I'm sure you did, and I certainly appreciate that, but equally important is that they'll be up by tomorrow. Fantastic job!"

Dave went on to describe how the silos were constructed, then Jeff asked, "Are you going to get your crews involved like you said?"

"Yeah, there should be some guys there shortly with a dozer to clear the rubble around the silo foundations and a couple of front-end loaders to help clean up the mess. The crew will start foundations for three more silos like we talked about. And Evie has already taken pictures and video of the destroyed silos and barn for the lawyer, but like we said, we can't wait for the lawyers to fight this out before we get the silos up. Evie took the pictures and video from every direction and from varying distances, including from a good quarter of a mile back. She's documented the destruction as well as can be."

"Good, maybe we can get a reasonable settlement out of the insurance company. If not, we can give them a little piss poor advertising," he chuckled. "We're going to head out to buy new harvesting equipment. So keep in touch if you can."

"Okay, Jeff. Talk to you later," Dave said, breaking the connection.

"How in the world can you have silos by tomorrow?" Jessica asked before her mother could.

Jeff grinned at her. "Dave knew about a company in the area that had, more or less, ready-built, or I guess you could say, quick to assemble silos. After all," he joked, "they're really just a giant pipe with a lid on top and a couple of doors. This company builds them in sections that go together quickly. A crane sets them up as they assemble the pieces. They can, more or less, make them as tall or big around as you want them. And of course, they're installing all new equipment for moving the grain in and out of the silos. By tomorrow night, you'll have a place for a lot of your grain. As soon as Dave gets the other foundations built and the cement sets, we'll get the rest of the silos out here. You will have more storage space for grain than you've ever had before."

Jessica and her mother looked at each other. They suddenly hugged and the tears started.

Crap,  Jeff thought. They're acting like I gave them a Christmas present they had been hoping for, not a few silos.

Turning to Jeff, Carla said, "We've never had enough room to store our stuff. We always had to sell a good bit of our harvest as soon as we got it in out of the fields. And we couldn't expand our herd enough because we couldn't store enough feed for more cattle. Just having enough storage will increase our profits more than you would ever realize."

Sighing, she continued, "In addition to everything else, I'm going to have to let another person down. We sold the last of our 'special' cattle a few weeks ago, and if I had still had a phone, I know the butcher would have called for more meat by now. I made a tremendous profit on that 'special' beef."

Diana looked at Jeff, and both of them burst out laughing with the girls, Laura and Helen joining in shortly.

Carla and Jessica looked confused.

"This couldn't be a coincidence," Diana said, smiling at the two women. "We bought some 'special' beef a while back that the butcher guaranteed us would be the best that we ever put in our mouths. It was. He said he got it from a rancher that had a secret ingredient for the cattle. It has to be you."

"Was it Wellington's?" Carla asked.

"Yeah," Diana said. "He's the one."

"Well, I guess you get to find out what the 'secret' is," Carla said, her face now breaking into a smile.

Jeff crossed his legs and leaned back, acting casual. "Well, I guess replacing your special cattle will have to be high up on our priority list, if you make a lot of profit off them..."

"Yeah, Jeff," Ann responded. "We're all sure that you want to get her 'special' beef started again for her profit. Sure you do," she finished dragging out the word.

When the laughing died down, Carla said, "So you like my secret ingredient?"

Jeff chuckled. "I don't know about your secret ingredient, but that was the best steak I've ever eaten — bar none."

Jessica looked at her mother, now serious. Turning back to Jeff, she said, "We'll start twenty head of the best when we begin to restock our cattle. We always start with the best before we... go through the process that makes the meat the best there is."

"We're going to need protection for the stock before the worst of the winter sets in. We're almost eighty-five hundred feet here, even in this sheltered valley. Our cattle make it just fine, though, but when we have really cold weather and heavy snowstorms, they need a good shelter. We have a little longer growing season here than the general area because of the way the valley is situated, but we still have a lot of snow."

"You two need to sit down with Evie and Dave. Think about your old barn and what you've always wanted in a new one. Remember, uh... I'm sorry, I don't want to bring back sorrow, but there are just the two of you now. You need to be as mechanized as you can possibly be. Dave tells me that he and Evie have built various types of barns, but I think you need to research this as well. Tell them what you want so that you can run this farm by yourselves."

Grinning at mother and daughter, he continued, "We'll build this one so that it won't be so easy to burn down, and we'll put some alarms on it," he said, nodding at Frank, "that will warn you when things go wrong. Right Frank?"

"Sure," Frank said, "We can put in videos and fire alarms. Might be interesting to see if our motion detectors and the software can be taught to ignore the movements from the cattle, and still pick up on humans. I'll bet that something my software people never thought of. Hummm..." he said, looking thoughtful.

"Do you know where you want to go?" Jeff asked Carla.

"Sure. I've done business with the same John Deere place ever since we bought the farm. I guess Daniel and I have gotten old together. He took over his dad's business just before we started out with ours. He's treated me right over the years."

"Is his outfit big enough to have everything you need?" Jeff asked, ignoring the "old" comment, knowing she couldn't be more than forty.

"Oh, yeah. He's the biggest around."

"Okay, let's go spend some money. Who wants to ride with me?"

-------

Carla sat in Robert Davenport's office. "Again, Carla, I'm sorry I blurted out and asked where Sam was. I feel like a fool. I hadn't seen you folks for — what has it been? Two years I guess. I had no idea."

"Oh, you didn't know. I still start to say something to him ever now and then," she said, trying to keep her voice from cracking. "Now how much of this are you going to be able to deliver today?"

"We'll get everything you need to start on your corn, today. Carla, that guy," he said, nodding to where Jeff stood in the yard as two salesmen lined up equipment that he and Fred had picked out, "told me to line up whatever you need for your corn, hay and soy beans. He said he wouldn't buy anything but the biggest and best equipment I had. He was very adamant about it. Carla, I'm in the business to make money, but this is going to be a lot of money for you to spend at one time. Don't get me wrong," he hastily added, "I'm making an honest profit, and only an honest profit."

Unconsciously scratching his neck and glancing out the window at Jeff, again, he said, "He was adamant that if I ripped you off, word would get around that I did that to a widow, and in addition, you would need a lot more equipment, and it would not be bought here. He was really in my face, and... he's intimidating. But apparently he has the money. I called his bank. The president of the branch knew him personally, I gather. He just laughed at me and said that he didn't have to check the account balance, but he guaranteed me that I didn't have enough equipment on my lot to even bother Mr. Matthew's checking account."

Leaning back in his seat while Carla fidgeted, he continued, "Are you sure this guy isn't pulling something on you to get your farm? I mean..."

Carla sighed, "If he is, there's nothing I can do about it. It was lost when they showed up. Jess and I were loading a U-Haul with our stuff. And I had rather these folks get it than that asshole at the bank. But if Jeff is, somehow, ripping me off, he sure as hell is spending a lot of money on me to do it."

Leaning forward and putting her forearms on Davenport's desk, she said, "Heck, I'd be tickled if they just let Jess and me live on the place and make enough to put food on the table, but I actually believe that they're honest. I heard everything he told his accountant, the lawyers and the bank president. If he's going to rip me off, he's sure going a round about route to do it.

"They're setting up a corporation to own everything, with me in charge. And they've done some other things that convinced me, that's kinda private. Jessica and I spent the night with them last night. They live in this big... hotel, or something way up on the mountain past my place. This morning, they loaded up that big pickup of his with enough frozen meat to last Jess and me for a year, not to say anything about all the other stuff they filled my freezers and refrigerator with. My pantry is stuffed with canned goods, and they gave me money. If they're ripping me off, then hell, more power to them. It's the best rip-off I've ever had."

Getting up and pouring Carla a cup of coffee without asking, he set it in front of her with the condiments close by. Putting the pot back, he sat down to fix his own coffee. "He gave me a list in addition to the list you gave me. He wants a commercial, top-of-the-line steam cleaner, pressure washer, air compressor, heck there's a dozen things here," he said, picking up a sheet of paper, "and he wants commercial-grade on everything. He's even got pressure grease guns, enough grease to do you for five years, and twenty cases of oil for the tractors. I told him that I didn't sell some of this stuff, but he just stared at me. Before I knew what I was saying, I told him I would get it for him. He said that he would appreciate it if I would make sure everything was the absolute best money could buy. And reminded me that it was for you."

Carla sipped her hot coffee and looked over the cup at Davenport, "We met my silos just before we got on the interstate. Even the sections are monsters. They've got an escort like you see with those extra wide modular homes, plus a county car in front of that. There's a big crane lumbering along behind them, then another of those escort vehicles behind it. They're practically taking up the whole road. They claim that by tomorrow night, I'll have three working silos. They put them together with a crane. He had his project manager — whatever the hell that is — go find them and buy them for me. They're going to pour more foundations for additional silos as soon as these are up. Then they're going to build me another barn. He says this one can't be burned down, and I saw his wife walking around the outside of my house with a pad in her hand. Lord only knows what that means.

"They told me that if I wanted to, they would build very high-end homes on my front forty that I don't use. His project manager claims that the houses will sell before they are built after they build a demo home. They're talking about building homes for the ultra rich. They claim it won't interfere with my farm, since I can use the back road for my driveway. There's a big hill between the front forty and the rest of my property. They're talking about putting up billboards everywhere, and advertising on radio and TV. But they tell me that building or not, is up to me."

"I said something about charity, and his wife about had a fit. She said that this was an investment, and had nothing to do with charity. Hell, I'm about to believe them. Sam and I were doing okay until that cancer hit. I've been so down after having to pay out everything to that hospital up front, and with Sam's passing, I just... Now, for the first time in a while, Jess and I have a little hope."

Davenport stood. "Come on. Let's get back outside. Stampley is going to step on his tongue if he keeps staring at those girls much longer. I need to make sure that we load the first trucks with what you will need in the morning. I helped out the IH dealer a while back, so I called him and asked for two of his delivery trucks and drivers. They should be here shortly. Oh, and Mr. Matthews also reminded me to fuel up everything before we left. He said to lube and oil everything that needed it, and he would pay for it, so you wouldn't have to do that first thing. He said he wanted you to be able to get on the equipment and roll.

"Crap, Carla, you just bought more this morning than I've sold all month. You could have carried Matthews anywhere. I appreciate it. And, I won't forget it. Just remember, if you need anything, just give me a call. I'll put it on a truck and head it your way as soon as I can get it loaded. You've just become my absolute best customer of all time."

Sobering, Carla looked at Davenport. "Just remember Rob, these are nice people, but... I'd be amazed if they don't check the prices on everything we're buying today. I have a very distinct feeling that crossing them would not be a good idea."

Davenport opened the door for her, but stood looking at her for a moment, "That's the reason my secretary is going over the invoice right now. I don't want to cheat myself, but I'm damn sure not going to cheat you, either. Even unintentionally. But I've discounted everything. I don't worry about them checking around, they'll just find out that nobody will beat these prices. You bought so much that I could afford to cut way back."

"Thanks Rob, I appreciate it."

Outside, Jessica met her mother as she stood looking at the line of equipment waiting its turn at the loading dock.

"Momma, Jeff bought a new piece of equipment for everything. I tried to tell him that we could just change heads on the combine when we went to the wheat field, but he laughed at me. He said that we didn't need to be changing that heavy equipment around, no matter how easy it was, and told the salesman the same thing. He's gone overboard. He's..."

"Jessica," Davenport said, "the big outfits do it that way. They don't want to pay an employee to change out equipment when he can just step onto another one ready to go. Besides, your equipment will last a heck of a lot longer that way. It's the difference in having the money to do it right, or just getting by."

"Boy, have we heard that expression this morning. They better get those silos up in a hurry, Mom. Jeff is talking to his project manager about sending some people out to help us bring in our harvest. Looks like each piece of equipment is going to have someone sitting on it after all. And Fred said he was going to help us, as well. He said he hadn't done anything on a farm in years, but he would probably remember pretty quick."

"Who's Fred?" Davenport asked.

"The big guy over there by Mr. Matthews," Carla said, nodding her head toward the two men who were talking animatedly.

Jeff turned around and saw them, then walked over. "Carla, Fred just brought up a good point. Can we use your garage to stow some of the small items we bought — steam cleaner, cases of oil, things like that, until we can get you something built?"

"Sure," she answered. "I usually don't bother putting my truck in there until winter. I'll move the car out as soon as we get home."

Jeff turned to the dealer. "If you have the invoice ready, I'll pay for this stuff now, and when you get the other equipment we talked about that's on the list, just send the invoice to my accountant and he'll cut you a check. Here's his card, and here's mine," Jeff finished, handing Davenport two business cards.

"Yes, Sir. That will be fine. Come on in, I think Aster has everything totaled. She was just double checking to make sure we had calculated correctly."

"I know we've been pushing you. And I apologize for that. If you find mistakes, we'll even things up when you do. Carla desperately needs to get her crops in, and she's — all of us, actually — hoping to get started in the morning." Turning to Carla, he continued, "Oh, yeah, Carla, I upped the quantity of plastic wrap for the round baler. We need to add that to the invoices, also, Mr. Davenport."

"We've already got it," Davenport said, ushering them toward the door. They were soon in the owner's office, and Jeff swiped his card on the biggest sale Davenport had ever made.

-------

Later, after an on-the-road lunch from Mickey D's, they had to pull off the side of Carla's driveway as a fuel truck rumbled past, the driver waving and smiling as he left the farm.

"You've already ordered fuel, and got it out here?" Carla said from the back seat, turning to stare at the truck.

"I didn't. But it doesn't surprise me. I told Dave and Evie that I wanted the farm running, and to put it as their first priority. Sometimes, I think those two can do more accidentally than I manage on purpose," he finished chuckling, proud of them.

As they pulled up by the garage, Jeff opened the door for Carla and almost insulted her by helping her down from the truck. Carla mumbled something about not being that old, yet, and Jeff grinned.

As she raised the garage door, he stepped up beside her. "If you don't mind, I think it would be a good idea if you went over everything as they offload," he said, nodding to the line of trucks coming down the drive. "If we've missed something you're going to need tomorrow, we need to get the dealer on the phone ASAP, and get it out here."

"Yeah, you're right," Carla responded. "I think we've got it all, but Jess and I will mentally walk through what we have to do, and double check."

Handing Jeff the keys to her Saturn, she said, "Would you back my car out so we can unload your truck? I need to show them where the loading dock is."

"Sure," Jeff said, opening the garage while Carla waved at the lead truck and pointed toward the back side of the burned-out barn. As she looked in the direction of the barn, she froze. "Oh, my gosh," she quietly said.

Jeff and Jessica stepped past the side of the garage so they could see where Carla was looking. In the distance, well past the barn, a large section of one of the new silos stood gleaming in the sunlight. The crane was slowly lifting another section into place as they watched, men swarming around the base. A bright flash of light from an electric welder directed their attention to a man standing in a cherry picker high on the side of the silo.

"That one is way bigger than the ones we had," Carla said fighting to not bawl as she realized that she was well on her way to being back in business.

Jessica turned and hugged Jeff, hard. "Thank you," she quietly said. "It's hard to believe this is really happening."

"No big deal," Jeff said, laughing. "Oh, and the other silos that we're building a foundation for will be bigger around than these. We were limited by your concrete base on the first three. I'll take care of unloading the pickup. You two go on and check out your new equipment and silo," he said, finally extracting himself from Jessica, fighting to not have an erection from the delightful feeling of her breasts pushed into his chest — feeling guilty at his reaction.

Mother and daughter didn't need a lot of persuasion. He smiled as he watched them fighting not to run as they walked as fast as they could toward the loading dock.

Thirty minutes later, the pickup unloaded, Jeff was in the house pouring water into Carla's coffee maker when the phone rang. I thought she said her phone had been turned off, he thought as he picked up the wall phone. "Chalmers' residence. Jeff speaking."

"Hey, Sexy," Diana chuckled. "We're just leaving the grocery store. Be there in thirty minutes. Oh, we're going to have to bring Carla some more steaks. Tonight will use up most of the ones we brought. Did you find out how many people will be there for supper?"

"First off," Jeff said, a grin on his face. "How did you know the phone was turned back on?"

"Dave said he knew someone at the phone company. I strongly suspect that someone got an under-the-counter bonus," she laughed. "Jessica gave me the number before we left the tractor dealer. And you forgot to turn your cell on."

"Uh, okay... About the total. I don't know exactly. I think there are ten people in the silo crews. The truck drivers have left for another load. There were six of them, and they said they were going to bring everything tonight, so they'll be back in about four hours plus loading time, from now. I told them that we would have steaks for them no matter how late they were. I'm pretty sure they will eat, whether or not they get a meal on the road or not. There are four of Dave and Evie's crew here, and Evie is bringing in portable lights, so I think she's planning on a crew working tonight, but I don't know how many there will be on it. I don't think she's sure, yet."

"So we have fourteen workers there now with six more due back later, plus however many more Evie and Dave bring?"

"Yeah, as best I can tell. Plus Dave and Evie, of course. How many steaks did we bring from the house?"

"I brought thirty, but we bought the store out as well. I suspect all these workers will eat at least two for their first meal. We'll have plenty, and if Evie's crew works, they won't have expected to work tonight, and won't have a lunch with them, probably. If that happens, we'll stay and cook a meal for them during the night. I'll check with Evie when I get there."

"Good luck on that. She's running one of the front-end loaders clearing rubble for the third silo. And she's not letting any grass grow under her feet, or under the tractor tires, as the case may be," he chuckled.

"Evie is running a loader? Damn, I'll bet she's having a ball. I always wanted to learn how to run one of those things. About the meal. It's going to be simple. Steak, baked potatoes, Boston baked beans, an assortment of cakes from the bakery — I bought out most of the store's chips — and a variety of soft drinks. We bought several coolers that we filled with crushed ice, plus jugs of tea. I bought a couple of sets of steak knives, as well as some silverware. You can't eat steak with plastic forks, and I was worried that Carla wouldn't have enough utensils for that many people."

"Good idea. What about cooking the steaks?"

"Laura saw a big grill in the back yard, and there are several big picnic tables. I got a bunch of charcoal. Carla's obviously had to feed extra people that she's hired from time to time. We'll take advantage of that. The weather forecast looks good, for the valleys, although it's going to be pretty chilly before morning. They're forecasting snow for the higher elevations. You might check about outside lighting for our meal tonight for the crew that's going to work over. Our supper will probably be before dark, but I'm not sure, so consider that as well. Can you think of anything else?"

"What about jackets for the crew that's going to work tonight?"

"Good point. Why don't you tell Dave what I heard on the weather forecast? He might want to have his people call their spouses to bring them a coat, but be sure to tell them that they won't need anyone to bring them a lunch. We'll provide that, plus drinks and snacks. What about a bathroom?"

"Oh, the silo crews brought a Port-a-John with them. They won't have to worry Carla. And Evie's crew will probably know a lot more about sudden job changes than we do, so they'll probably bring one, too, but I'll bet the steaks will be a pleasant surprise. One more thing, did you get a chance to stop by the bank and get the money?"

"Yeah, I got it. Anything else you can think of?"

"No. I think that's about it."

"Okay, Baby," Diana said, her voice sounding like she was turned on. "We just finished loading — well, stuffing the Escalades. We'll be there shortly. Love you."

"Love you, too. Get my wives here safely, and watch out for those assholes. We don't want to let our guard down."

"Fred is watching for us," she said, sighing. "I wish they would just show up and get it over with," Diana said, her voice changing. "I'm tired of looking over my shoulder. See you in a few." The line went dead as she hung up.

-------

The two Escalades backed close to the back porch at Carla's kitchen. Jeff's wives got out and kissed him like they hadn't seen him in a month. He sat on the edge of the porch leaning forward with his forearms resting on his thighs, trying to hide his erection. Margaret grinned and winked at him as she walked by carrying groceries, not fooled in the slightest.

"Are you going to just sit there with a lump in your pants, or are you going to help us?" she teased over her shoulder as she continued on into the house.

Well, shit. Standing up, he joined the grocery bag parade.

"Don't feel like the Lone Stranger," Wainwright tried to grump. "Margaret made damn sure I was stirred up just before we got here. Women are sadistic," he said, but the grin on his face ruined the grump effect. "But she and I are going for a walk when it gets dark," he finished, holding the screen door open for Jeff, who had hurriedly caught up with him.

"Oh, promises, promises," Margaret said, overhearing him.

A few minutes later, Diana pointed out the back door. "We need the grill cleaned up and the charcoal started," she ordered, looking at her husband.

Jeff looked out the back to see where she was pointing. The grill did look like it needed a good cleaning, even from here. He saw Fred walking past the barn, obviously heading toward the silos.

Jeff could take a hint, and he and Frank got to work. They moved the picnic tables together, and were working on the grill when Dave drove up on an ATV, and shut it off. "I hope you don't mind, Boss. But we brought two of your four-wheelers down. This place is big, and it takes forever to get anywhere," he said getting off.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Jeff agreed.

As he stood up and stretched, he continued, "Boss, I'm going to line up sand, cement and gravel. I don't know exactly when we'll have the forms for the new foundations ready, and I couldn't get a cement truck out tonight on short notice, anyway. I think I'm just going to use the big mixer like I did on the range."

"How long do you expect you'll be gone?"

Dave stopped and thought. "Probably two or three hours, by the time I get people lined up to drive the trucks, get them loaded and get back."

"Okay, if I can help, let me know."

Dave left for his Escalade, obviously preoccupied.

"Crap," Jeff sighed, looking at Frank. "I knew there was something that my subconscious was trying to tell me. I saw the remains of two ATV's near the burned-up tractors. I should have bought her some while we were in Denver."

Wainwright looked at his watch. "The John Deere dealer is still open, and I know he sells them. There were a couple setting on the showroom floor."

"Good," Jeff said, taking his cell phone out, then the dealer's card. "The trucks are going to bring the rest of the equipment out tonight, we can have them add a couple of ATV's." Dialing, he then said, "Mr. Davenport, please..." Then a little later, "Hi, Mr. Davenport. This is Jeff Matthews..."

Wainwright snatched the phone away, grinning. "Hello, Mr. Davenport, this is Frank Wainwright. I was with Jeff earlier. Remember me?"

"Sure Mr. Wainwright. What can I do for you?"

"Well, we just realized that Carla's ATV's were destroyed when her barn burned, and we thought we would surprise her. How about sending two of your best ones out when the trucks come back tonight."

"Sure, we can do that," Davenport said, not believing he was making another sale today.

Wainwright thought for a moment. "Uh, let's make that three instead of two. If you have them."

"We've got them," Davenport said, thanking his lucky stars that he had stocked that many of the big ones.

"Say, do you think you could come up with some big red bows to put on them?"

Davenport chuckled. "You bet we can," he said, thinking that there was a Wal-Mart just down the road. Thank God for my secretary. She'll know just what to do.

"Might be a good idea to wait and have the driver put them on just before he turns down the driveway so they don't get torn up in the wind. Uh," Wainwright said, "These don't go on the corporate account like the other stuff, just use this number."

"Now what did you do that for?" Jeff asked after Wainwright hung up and handed Jeff's phone back.

Wainwright laughed. "You can't have all the fun."

"But the corporation would buy them..."

"Oh, quit bitching. And besides, Margaret will be proud of me. I might even get an extra blowjob out of this. And you know women like big red bows," he finished laughing. "Now, did you see a garden hose? Surely there's one around here somewhere," he finished wandering off to look.

Jeff looked at the rust on the grill. She hasn't used this thing in a while. Spraying more cleaner on, he scrubbed with a brush as Frank came back pulling the hose.

-------

Much later, in the fading light, Jeff watched Carla get in the cab of one of the huge tractors, followed by Diana. He grinned as he saw the tractor move at a good clip toward where the second silo was being erected. Darkness was coming a little sooner in the valley than he was used to on the mountain.

They had turned the back floodlight on, and had strung another light on a tree limb well above the table. As the sunlight faded, they stepped back and he and Frank surveyed their work. The tables were spotless. They had a good coat of paint on them, so cleaning them wasn't a problem, and there would be adequate light without being too much. In another setting, it would have been romantic, he thought. But these guys were probably hungry as heck, and not a bit concerned with how things looked.

The tractor started back. Shortly, a stream of workmen were headed toward the house. As they got closer, even in the fading light, he decided that two of them had some extra curves. At least two women in the bunch, he thought. A few minutes later, Diana walked — well strutted — by.

As she passed, she bragged, "Carla let me drive."

Jeff grinned at her and swatted her lightly on the ass.

Carla smiled at him as she passed. "I think you're going to get lucky tonight," she said, almost giggling, obviously in a great mood.

As the workers straggled in, they were greeted by the girls who took their steak order and ushered them into the house to wash up. Some were, at first, reluctant, but Carla "fussed" at them, telling them that people that worked on her farm ate with her.

Evie and her people came in a little behind the others. She had a coating of dust on her face, clothing and hair caused by using the loader to move the rubble, and was obviously tired, but smiled and joked with the others.

"Where's my husband?" she asked, looking around.

"He's still lining up stuff for the foundations," Jeff told her. "I just talked to him on the phone. He said he would be here in about an hour."

"Well, darn," she answered. Obviously having hoped that Dave would be there to eat with her.

"Where's Fred?" Jeff asked, looking around.

"He's been helping us," Evie said over her shoulder as she headed for the house to wash up. "He's running my loader while I eat. He said that he would come in to eat when I came back to relieve him."

Jeff walked to the side so he could see past the rubble of the barn and the trees. The loader, obvious because of its lights, moved about in the distance. Knowing that keeping busy was one of the best things for his friend right now, Jeff smiled and decided to wait to eat until Fred came in.



-------

Chapter 34

Diana surveyed the picnic tables and the people eating there, then said to the crew, raising her voice slightly so everyone could hear, "We have plenty of steak for everyone. We expected you to eat at least two, so don't be bashful. There are more already on the grill."

A little later: "These people were hungry," Diana quietly said to Laura. "Shall we wait to put out the envelopes with the desert?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan, Di. They are going to crap on themselves when they look inside that envelope."

"We'll tell them to not look until they leave," Diana said, grinning.

"Yeah, right. I'm sure they will all do that. They're just starting on the second silo, aren't they? They might wait until they're out of our sight," she finished, smiling.

A little later as they cut the cakes, Diana nodded to the girls. As they set envelopes on the table beside everyone, Diana said, "We're putting a thank-you from all of us beside your plate. Please don't open them now."

After the meal, the crew boss told Diana that they appreciated the great meal, and thanked them for their "bonus." All the others filed by to thank their hosts, too.

The silo construction crew headed back to work. One of the workers, a twenty-year-old blond, couldn't stand it any longer and opened his envelope before he had even gotten past the rubble of the old barn. When he stopped so quickly that the worker behind him ran into him, "Damnit, Jeremy. You need to put brake lights on your ass if you're going to stop that quick..." But his admonishment died as he noticed the two bills that Jeremy held up in front of him trying to see in the dim light.

One of the others flicked a lighter for light. Suddenly, there were ripping sounds as everyone tore into his or her envelope. "Well damn. Looks like I'll make my car payment on time this month after all," one of them said.

"Yeah," someone else said.

"I told that lady that we were already making time and a half," the crew boss said. "But I appreciate the hell out of this."

Turning to the others, raising his voice, he continued, "All right. We're making good money tonight; we got a hell of a bonus; we had some great steaks; and we got to look at a bunch of very nice looking women — well for those of us who care about that sort of thing," he laughed. "So get your lazy asses back to work."

"That sure was some fine looking pussy," Jeremy said to the guy walking beside him a moment later.

"Whap," as Connie slapped him in the back of the head.

"Oh, shit. That hurt," he said, rubbing his head.

"Don't you fucking know how to talk in front of a lady?" she admonished, fighting not to laugh.

"Yeah. I know how to talk in front of a lady," he mumbled.

"Whap."

"Oh."

"Damnit, Connie. Quit fucking with the kid," Lee, the foreman, said. "Let's get back to work. And let's make double sure we do this right. These people have been extra good to us. Somebody fucks up, I'm going to be on their ass. Now let's hit it."

Denise walked close to Connie and whispered in her ear as they continued toward the silos. "I walked around the corner of a building last week while Jeremy was taking a piss. He's a whole lot more man than you're giving him credit for."

"Oh, really?" Connie said. She took a couple of quick steps forward and flipped Jeremy's cap off from behind.

"Crap, Connie. What did you do that for? Why don't you pick on somebody else for awhile?" he said, bending over to pick up his cap.

Connie ran her hand under him from behind and gently squeezed his groin for a second. Jeremy jumped like he had been shot. Cursing, he took several fast steps to put one of the other workers between Connie and himself.

"Well?" Denise asked, grinning when the laughter died down.

"Here I am working with that kid every day, messing with him every chance I get, and he's got that hanging between his legs all this time," Connie mused aloud.

"Now, Connie, don't get that kid killed. That big fucker you're living with will break the kid in half."

"Well, I'm not going to be living with that idiot very long," the good-looking redhead said, glancing at her coworker as they walked toward the partially-constructed silo. "I told him that he would be living by himself if he came in stumbling drunk one more time. Besides that, he's always too drunk to do his homework. Of course, with him, it's usually two humps and a bear-down, anyway. Then he tells his buddies how he 'fucked my brains out.' Yeah, right. Truth is; his dick is nowhere near in proportion to the rest of him. But the big son-of-a-bitch went to sleep on me — passed out — after he shot his load about a month ago. I almost suffocated before I could get out from under him."

Frowning, she continued, "Ten to one he'll be drunker than a bicycle when I get home, after sitting on his ass while I'm out earning a living. I'm paying the rent and utilities — everything else. About the only job looking he does, is from the local bar. Are you still living by yourself?"

"You know I am. I sent Irving packing six months ago. It's just been me and my vibrating friend since then."

"You want someone to halve the house payment with you? We get along okay. I think we could make it together."

"You looking to try the kid out?" Denise asked.

"Heck, yes. He can't talk to either of us without his tongue getting hard, let alone his dick," Connie laughed. "He would have to be better than that dickhead I'm living with. You got a problem with me giving the kid a little."

"No, not really. I just don't want to see him get hurt. Hell, he isn't the biggest guy in the world — at least, his body isn't. What, five-ten, I guess," she laughed, "but he's muscled up pretty good, and his face isn't bad, in fact, it's pretty nice. He, damn sure, isn't lacking in the dick department. Still, you're what? Twenty-eight? And you've been around a little. He'll fall in love with your tits, if nothing else, and he's a nice guy. I don't want the kid fucked up mentally, or physically," she said as they neared Connie's crane.

Two of the workers started both generators for the lights at almost the same time.

Connie turned her face away from the brilliant light, propped her foot on the step of the cab, and paused. "I didn't have a place to live after I divorced Wesley. Blaine treated me nice and had a job; he even kissed my pussy a couple of times. That sure didn't last. When he first pulled that little peewee of his out, I almost laughed. I could get along with the size, though, if he would just try. But he doesn't give a shit. The only one he wants to please is himself. I've just been sticking it out because I don't have a place to live. And I can't save up rent money for a place of my own with him boozing away the money faster than I can make it."

Lee stood looking at the two women as they talked. Both had fooled him when the company had hired them. Neither of them would weigh over a hundred and twenty pounds, and both were lookers, particularly the redhead. The brunette wouldn't stop any clocks, either. Surprisingly, they had pulled their weight. He knew they had gone home sore for the first week or two, but Connie was a damn good crane operator. She was careful and meticulous, looking out for the rest of the crew when she swung the silo sections, or anything else, and she helped the others when the crane wasn't needed, instead of just sitting in the cab twiddling her thumbs.

He had been afraid that they would be prima donnas, but they had both fooled him. The boss had called him in and told him that he had hired two women. When he had started to object, Mr. Jackson had said that they did not have enough women working for the company, and was going to put two new ones on his crew. When he had objected, telling Jackson that they couldn't do the heavy work, and would cause a lot of resentment with the crew, Jackson said to treat them just like everyone else. They had already been told it was heavy work, at least the one that wasn't the crane operator had been told.

"You mean, I've got a female crane operator?" he asked, incredulously.

"She's supposed to be good. We hired her away from another company that was only letting her be an operator part time. She's certified. If she can't cut it, then fire her. But give her every bit of a chance that you would anyone else. I'll back you if you treat her right, but I'll get in your shit if you try to run her off because she's a woman."

They looked at each other for a moment, Lee seething from the remark. "There's another thing," he said, "whether you like it or not. The guys on the crew ain't desk sitters, they work for a living," he shot out, not caring what Jackson thought of his comment; he was pissed. "Are these bitches going to sue me because the guys cuss in front of them? I'll tell you now, if I get in the guys' shit about the way they talk, I'll be doing the job by myself."

Jackson sighed, sitting back in his chair, realizing that ramrodding this down Lee's throat might not be the best way to go. "Look, I don't have any choice in this. We've got to have more women working for the company. Equal opportunity means just that. Now do you have any ideas, or are you just going to bitch?"

Lee could see the grin on Jackson's face, so he tried to cool his own temper. He sighed, and said, "I... Shit the only thing I can think of is to just put it to them straight. If they say that the guys' language is going to be a problem, then we'll ask them what ideas they have. We can always tell them what I said. If the men quit, we'll be doing it ourselves, which means that we won't have a job very long."

Jackson's eyes sparkled. "Sounds good to me," he said, standing. "They're waiting in the lobby. I'll send them in and let you talk to them. You can use my office," Jackson finished, getting up and heading out the door before Lee could come to terms with what had just happened.

Grinning at the two women standing by the crane, women who had turned out to be two of his best and most reliable workers, Lee yelled, "Do I hear a crane running? Am I interrupting your high-level conference over there? Could we maybe get the next section moved into place sometime tonight?" he said, but he had a grin on his face.

Connie and Denise laughed. Connie shot him the bird, then started climbing into the crane. Turning back to Denise, she said, "Think about it. I think we would do well together. Hell, we might even share the kid if he turns out to be any good." Smiling at the look on Denise's face, she climbed on into the crane and started it.

Laughing, Lee turned away from the two women and thought, If I wasn't married, I sure know where I would be. Crap, either one of those two would probably kill me, but it would take a week to get the grin off my face. Now where in the fuck did that welder get off to? He rounded the silo just as the welder struck an arc. Holding his hand in front of his eyes so he could see past the blue-white light, Lee yelled for Williams to come help the welder.

Jeff stood in the shadows listening to the banter of the crew, well, until the operator revved the crane engine. Damn, here I stand listening to this bunch, missing my team. That's idiotic,  he admonished himself. I have seven wives who love me, and I sure as heck love them. And I'm missing my team. Well, I sure don't mind doing without that damn sniper that shot me. I might not come back from the next trip. But so far, the colonel has left me alone. Things must be going smoothly. You can bet they're still trying to understand that ship. They must have found someone who can get along with the ship's computer without having his brains scrambled. Maybe things will last.

Jeff saw Fred walking back toward the house in the dark after being relieved by Evie. He stumbled on some uneven ground and almost fell. As Jeff walked up to Fred, he hissed in a breath and said, "Shit, Jeff. I didn't see you until you were almost on me. How in the fuck do you see in the dark?"

"We went over that last night..."

"Well, head out toward the house. I think I can follow you. Those bright lights back there have messed up my night vision, but I'm hungry as a bear. I hope the women have some of those steaks left."

"Yeah they have plenty left. Di sent me to get you, but I got sidetracked by the silo construction."

They walked on back to the house, getting there just as Dave and several of Evie's crew were coming out of the house after washing up. The others went over to the grill to give their orders to the women as Dave and Jeff sat down at the table. Jeff looked over at Dave, who was pouring a glass of tea. "Sorry about starting yet another new project and running you all over everywhere getting this thing going."

"Boss, Evie and I wouldn't miss it for the world. You should have been there when I asked for volunteers to pour foundations for silos tonight. I had already told them that you paid off a widow's mortgage, and were rebuilding her silos that some yahoo had blown up..."

"Ah, shit, Dave. I wish you hadn't told them."

"Well, I think they need to know, besides, when I asked for volunteers, every darn one on both crews volunteered to work tonight. I've got others coming in the morning to relieve the ones who work tonight."

"How many did you wind up with tonight?"

"I just brought six. All we have to do is level the area, dig down a little, put in the forms, and pour the concrete. Any more people right now would just get in the way. The mixer will only put out so much concrete. It would have been faster if we could have gotten the concrete delivered, but this way will work, and unless I miss my guess, we'll get one base poured tonight. I'm using a quick formula similar to what they use on highways that will set up in less than twenty-four hours. The other two foundations will easily be done tomorrow."

"Okay, but be prepared. I'm going to have a serious talk with Carla. This is a big farm, and from the looks of those crops, and hearing her talk, there is one heck of a lot to store. I'm going to put up silos and barns until she has what she needs, plus room for expansion."

"Okay, we'll plan on three more, and wait for word about any more. Have they had a chance to think about the barn and what they need there?"

"I got Diana to run Carla and Jessica out of the kitchen to get started on barn plans a couple of hours ago. I liked to have never got her DSL started up, but she's on the net getting plans for a general guideline. She should have something for you by tomorrow. You can take that and go with it. I don't know anything about permits, if there are any, for barns out here. But I want this to be the best and most modern barn that money can build."

Setting his glass in front of Dave, who filled it with crushed ice and tea, Jeff continued, "And why in the heck is Evie running a loader? She's..."

"Because she wants too, Boss. And...  I'll guarantee you that every one of our crew will bust his or her ass just because their pretty boss is busting hers. Chill out. We've been doing this for a while. Seeing one of us pitch in when we get in a bind helps show respect both ways. Both of us will do anything we ask our people to do, and they know it. I'm going to work with this group tonight for the same reason. They've already worked all day, either in the classrooms or in the basement on the indoor range. I'm not going to put them out there tonight unless I'm working, too."

Jeff opened his mouth to object, but remembered that he did the same thing with his team. Jennie came over and rubbed Jeff's shoulders, telling Dave, "Hi."

"Your steaks are almost ready."

"Thanks, Sweetie," Jeff said, putting his hand over hers and gently squeezing it.

Diana set his plate in front of him, kissed him and quietly said, "We need to run up to the house and get some blankets and pillows for us to sleep on. We'll fix another meal for the crews about one, but we're going to need some more food. Everybody needs to take a nap before then, and probably another after we serve them. I want to have a big breakfast for everyone before they leave."

"The silo crew isn't going to leave," Jeff said. "The foreman told me they were going to take off for two or three hours later tonight and sleep for a bit in their trucks, then start the third silo, probably a little after daylight. After that, Dave already has the company waiting to send out three more silos as soon as the foundations are ready," he said, nodding toward Dave.

"Hell, it was your money, Boss. Once they found out that I was serious and would pay for a little fast service, it was all over. Jackson said he would have to pay time-and-a-half to get everything set up so quickly, but that was the only flak I got."

"Well, if they are going to stay over and continue with the setup, all the more reason to feed them again in the morning. That way they won't have to waste time driving in to Winter Park, or out to Martha's to eat. Will they be done by lunch?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it. They've been working all afternoon and tonight and they're just about ready to lift the second section of silo number two. Take out their time to rest, and you're going to be pushing midday. And don't forget Murphy, he likes to join in when people get tired," Jeff said.

"The girls suggested we do this in shifts, but I doubt any of us will get much sleep tonight. We're all keyed up about everything that's going on, and doing our little bit to help," Diana said, sitting down by her husband.

Carla put her plate down beside Diana, and sat down. "Jeff we..."

"... have a lot to do tomorrow," he finished for her, forestalling another thank-you.

Carla grinned, knowing what he had done.

Fred sat down across from them, picked up a bottle of steak sauce and liberally doctored his meat. Looking at Carla, he asked, "What about the moisture in the corn? Is it dry enough to put in the silo, or do we have to dry it first?"

Jeff looked up.

"It was planted early. I checked the moisture a week ago, then this afternoon after we got home. It's fine to go into the silo just like it is."

"And if it wasn't?" Jeff asked.

"Then we would have to carry it to one of the grain elevators and have it dried."

"How often do you have to do this?" Jeff asked.

"Unless it's an early crop, we usually have to have it dried. It also depends on the rains and humidity. We've been dry for a while, coupled with not being able to bring it in, allowed it to dry."

"So sometimes you have to carry it and have it dried before you can store it?"

"Yeah, about half the time."

Jeff looked at Dave.

"Boss, driers are expensive. It's generally more cost effective to pay a little per bushel to have it dried..."

Jeff frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, I'll get started on it as soon as we have the silos in."

Jeff grinned back at him. "If Carla and Jessica have a drier here, some of the other farmers might want to use it when they need it, instead of carrying it somewhere farther away. She might make a little of the cost of the drier back. If not, it will still be more convenient. Besides, even if she does it free for some of the locals, if they need it, they might consider that they owe her a favor. Bet if she gets behind with something, there'll be someone that would think favorably about helping her."

Dave chuckled. "Yes, Boss."

"What about the hay?" Fred asked.

Carla looked up at him. "Well, it's not going to be the best in the world. It should have been cut a long time ago. Early hay has a much higher protein content, and with this standing in the field like it has, the moisture will be down in it. We'll probably lose a lot of the leaves, and they have far more protein in them than the stalk. We need to carefully watch the moisture in the windrows, and gauge our baling from that. Like I said, if it's too dry we'll lose too much of the leaves when we bale."

Carla took a sip of coke, thinking, "Also, we can't just put anybody on the baler. The machine needs to run at about ninety percent capacity to get a tight center to the bales, and the windrows need to be about the same width as the baler intake; otherwise, you won't get a tight bale. Again, we'll lose too much of the good stuff." She stopped to cut up her meat.

Jessica spoke up. "Same thing when we move the hay. Those round bales will go from eight hundred to twenty-five hundred pounds apiece, depending on the size of the bale and its moisture content. This hay won't be that heavy, though. Still you can get yourself hurt with a little slant in the field either with the baler or moving the bales, if you don't know what you're doing. Having the big tractors will make it a lot safer for us. Still the baler with a full, heavy bale ready to come out can get an operator into trouble before he knows it if he gets on a slope with all that weight behind him, particularly during a turn."

"So the big tractors are safer?" Jeff asked.

"Oh, sure," Carla picked up. "The more mass, the less affected the tractor is by what it's pulling. And the big balers need around a hundred horsepower to operate efficiently. Now, just because your car has two hundred horsepower, or more, don't even think they're the same. A tractor engine has a lot more torque. Your car motor wouldn't even get that big baler started good, let alone when it gets about ready to spit the bale out."

Carla took a sip of her coffee. "This late with that hay not having been cut for a while, we'll have to play with it a bit. We might be able to get started with it pretty early in the morning, then we'll keep checking the windrows. We want enough moisture content to keep all the leaves we can, but not enough to ruin the hay if it's baled too wet."

Fred looked over at Jeff and grinned. He could tell that Jeff had just given up the thought that farming was simple.

"What are you going to do with the bales, now that you don't have anyplace to store it? I know that's what the plastic is for but..."

Carla pointed off into the darkness. "There's a small ridge over that way. We'll put a long row of bales just short of the crest. That way there won't be much water to run under the bales. They'll do fine there, but they will do better inside some shelter from the rain and snow."

"What about restocking your herd?"

"We want to do it before spring as much as we can. When spring comes and the pastures start to green up, beef prices will go up. We'll watch the prices really close. And I'll put out the word a little later that I'm in the market. There will be ranchers who need to get rid of some of their herd for one reason or another even when the prices are cheap. That's when we'll buy. Some folks won't want to winter their beef for one reason or another, and will sell for what they can get."

Sighing, she continued, "Too bad we don't have any cattle to turn in on the corn after we've harvested. There's a lot of feed and silage left in the fields that's pretty much a freebie. Just turn them in and let them graze. But it won't ruin for a while. We might find some good prices before the snows come, if not, there'll be some after they get here. I'd also like to get a crop of winter wheat in, but we've got a lot to do before then."

Fred looked over at Carla, started to say something, but sat thinking, instead.

Dave shoved his plate back as Ann refilled his coffee cup. After thanking her, he turned to Jeff, "Boss, there are three guys that I know of on our crews that grew up on a farm, and I know there's more. What say we let Carla and Jessica talk to them? No way are they going to get all their crops in by themselves."

"I'll help," Fred said. "It's been a long time, but I was raised on a farm. Things will be a little different here than in Georgia, but Carla and Jessica can show me. I was damn near raised on a tractor, and was running one by the time I could reach the pedals. We had small square — well rectangular — bales then, but they can bring me up to speed. The machines they have now are different than the corn pickers we had then, too. Hell, these are easier. That is, if you don't care, Jeff."

Jeff grinned at his friend. Care, heck,  he thought. It might be just what the doctor ordered. I was just about to run out of make-work for you. Carla has some real work that might just get you past the worst of your sorrow. "Hell, yes. That sounds like a great idea to me," he answered aloud, fighting to keep his grin under control.

"Now Mr. Wilson," Carla started.

Fred mock-glared at her.

"Uh, Fred. Not that I wouldn't appreciate it, but..."

Jessica whispered something in her mother's ear. Carla hesitated, then, "Fred, we certainly need you, and if you want to, we would be very appreciative."

"Good," Fred said, his grin spreading across his face. "I always did miss the farm. Show me what you want done. Check me out on the equipment, and I'll see if I can't start filling one of those silos."

The dealer's trucks finally made it back. As they rolled past the house toward the loading dock, Carla turned to Diana. "Don't you think it would be better to ask them to eat now? That way you folks will be done a lot earlier and you can get some rest before you have to cook for everyone, again."

"We're sure not going to argue with you there," Diana replied.

-------

Although it had been fairly clear in the valley, thirty miles away, during the last few miles up the mountain road, they encountered fog and a light drizzle. They had the heater on well before they reached home.

A little later, in the kitchen, Jeff held the hand truck, a large box sitting on it as the women brought out steaks from the freezer. "Shouldn't we have brought one of the coolers back to put the steaks in?"

"Oh, we have more coolers here," Laura said, "but we don't need them for the meat. It's thirty below in the freezer. These things will still be solid as a brick when we get ready for them. Anything that's left, we'll put in one of the coolers, or Carla's freezer, if there's room."

Diana put her load in the box. "This is a great opportunity to use the meat before it freezer burns. We had food for fifty people for a week when we moved in, according to Margaret. As you know, the freezer and the large pantry were packed. We've bought things at the store, so we still have a lot of the original left. I'm with Jeff. Do them a favor, help them out a little, and we'll all feel better for it. It's costing us practically nothing, anyway. Well, except for what we bought at the store. But heck, it was fun."

Looking around, she continued, "I need to get started with the blankets. Darn, I wish we had bought sleeping bags for all of us, but we were running out of time. They surely would have been softer than lying on that floor," she said, hurrying out, Laura and Helen trailing after her.

The girls surrounded Jeff as he started to tilt the hand truck back to turn around. "Put it down for a minute, Husband," Arlene and Ann said in unison.

"Uh, girls that..."

"Wait, Dad. We've got to talk to you in a hurry, before Mom gets back. You need to make love to Mom while we're here."

"What? I don't have time to make love to all of you. We've got to get back down there pretty soon. Dave and Evie..."

"Not all of us, Jeff. Just your first wife," Ann said.

"I can't make love to just one..."

"Yes you can, Husband," Melissa and Jennie said.

"Look, Dad, all of us agree. Mom is stressed. She's worried about Carla and Jessica, and she's uptight about all that is going on. We all want you to make love to Mom. We'll be just fine. We can probably make love to each other at Carla's. She and Jessica will be asleep soon, and we can be quiet when we have to be. But make love to Mother. You don't have to take forever, just put her down on the table when she comes back and make love to her. We'll tell her it was our idea so she won't feel guilty. Trust us Daddy; this needs to be done."

Jeff stood looking at the girls, "Okay," he said. "If that's what everybody wants, I sure don't have any gripes," he grinned. Balancing the hand truck, he turned around and went out the kitchen door that Melissa held open for him. Jennie ran on by to open the outer doors and make sure the tailgate of the pickup was down.

As soon as Jeff got the meat in the truck, he went back for the box of canned goods. By the time he had them in the truck, the line of women bringing out bedding was right behind them. With their usual efficiency, everything was soon tied down with bungee cords, and everyone was headed back inside.

As they gathered up the last of the things in the kitchen, bringing one of their industrial coffee makers with them this time, the girls gave a look to Jeff.

As Diana walked by, a slight frown on her pretty face as she tried to think of anything else they might need, Jeff took her hand and stopped her. As she turned to him with a questioning look, he gently touched his lips to hers. "I love you, my wife."

"I love you, too, Darling," she started, but then realized that something was going on.

Before she could protest, Jeff picked her up and sat her gently on the end of the table. Ann pulled the chair out of the way.

"What..." she started to say as his lips pressed gently against hers. "It's time for our husband to make love to his first wife," Helen said, speaking for everyone, as Diana instantly knew.

"But Jeff, we don't have time... ," she tried to say as her sister-wives unbuttoned her blouse, then her bra.

Jeff felt his belt being unbuckled by a set of hands, while others nudged first one foot then the other, so someone could take his shoes and socks off. His pants and shorts soon followed. A warm mouth lovingly teased his cock to hardness, as other hands gently removed Diana's jeans and panties.

"Oh, my goodness," a strung-out Diana said as his lips teased her pussy with feather-light kisses. He added his tongue to the teasing, following the contour of her outer lips, then as her desire heightened and her outer folds opened, the tip of his tongue slipped deeper to part her inner lips.

Ann and Arlene kissed Diana's face, then took turns lightly kissing her lips. Helen and Laura first lightly kissed, then began in earnest to seek her milk, now sucking strongly. Diana managed a warbling wail into Ann's mouth as her first orgasm engulfed her with its power.

Jeff stood up before the orgasm tapered off. Jennie guided Jeff's cock to their sister-wife's entrance while Melissa wet her finger in Diana's moisture and made gentle circles around her clit.

Jeff pushed slowly into his wife as she gasped, trying to get enough breath, while Ann and Arlene giggled, then kissed each other across Diana's face, almost touching her as they did.

As Jeff lightly touched Diana's cervix with the head of his cock, she wrapped her legs around his hips. Jeff very slowly eased his cock in and out while Diana squirmed and tried to thrust up to him. The slow, gentle pace, and her sister-wives caressing and kissing her, shortly built her desire to a height she could hardly believe. She made a noise deep in her throat that almost sounded like a growl as she tried to buck her hips up to him, but he refused to increase his speed, continuing to slowly move his cock back and forth inside her.

Arlene locked her mouth to her mother's and soul kissed her, moving her mouth gently around on Diana's, thinking and trying desperately to tell her mother how much they loved her. Helen and Laura continued to drink her milk, gently kneading her breasts with their hands as they did so. Long minutes passed as they all gently made love to Diana, frequently telling her that they loved her, while Jeff pulled back to her entrance, hesitated, then slowly pushed to her womb.

After a while, Diana whined and shivered, her toes pointing, then tightly curling as the orgasm built to gigantic proportions. "Now," she gasped out to her husband as Arlene pulled her mouth back for a moment. "Now!"

Arlene again locked her mouth to her mother's as Jeff slammed his cock several times against her cervix, then held. His dick throbbed and pulsed, sending a torrent of sperm directly into her womb. Diana thrashed and bucked, her arms pulling Helen and Laura to her breasts as she screamed into her daughter's mouth.

Diana's feet beat rhythmically against Jeff ass, as she peaked again and again, his semen continuing to pour into her. Finally, her legs relaxed from his hips, and her arms slipped back to the table as she lost consciousness. With his final spurt, Jeff gasped and braced himself against the table, his knees as weak as water, but he refused to take his cock out of his beautiful wife. The others instinctively moved aside as he leaned forward, his weight on his forearms, his face now directly above Diana's face as he tried to project his love to her.

A few minutes later as she began to awaken, he touched his lips to hers, pulled back a half inch and whispered, "Hello, Beautiful. I love you with all my heart and soul."

Seeing the tears sparkle in her eyes, he thought, Occasionally, even I say the right thing.



-------

Chapter 35

Everyone was wearing light jackets as they left the house. The fog and mist had changed to a light snow, but it wasn't sticking, yet. Diana hugged Jeff as they stood by the truck watching the snow fall. "It's beautiful and looks so peaceful," she said, hugging him tighter for an instant, looking up into his face.

Jeff hugged her back as everyone streamed past, getting into the vehicles. "I just caught the weather on the radio while I was waiting. They say two to six inches in the mountains. I don't know whether they mean our mountain or not. Heck, we've had a couple of light snows during the summer, but I have a feeling that all the rain that Carla is expecting in the valley this fall, is going to be slightly different at this altitude," he finished, smiling.

He leaned over and kissed his first wife as she clung to his neck, pushing her breasts against his chest. Every time she hugs me, or tells me she loves me, or well — anything, I just can't believe all this has happened to me. She looks like she's nineteen, but she has the assurance of a woman. And that assurance has grown in the last months. I was afraid that she would worry when we started adding others to our marriage, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. She has remained the dominant female without being the bitch that she jokes about. How in the world can so many women get along so well? And, apparently, they all love her, as they just showed in the kitchen by wanting me to make love to her. I love them all so much, but the others wouldn't be my wives without this one.

He kissed her again, almost trying to become part of her as the snow drifted straight down in the stillness. "Get a room," someone yelled, then the Escalade started up.

"I guess you're riding with me," Jeff said to Diana, then laughed as Laura backed up the Escalade. Jeff and Diana hurried to get into the truck.

As they got in, Diana saw the small case between the seats. "Fred's?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jeff laughed. "He asked me to pack him a few things. He said he was embarrassed to ask you or any of the others to pack his undies."

Diana laughed. "Oh, my goodness. A hard-nosed retired cop worried that I might see a stain from a racing stripe in his shorts," she mused aloud.

Jeff chuckled as he followed the Escalade down the drive. "Actually, he had his clothes all hung in a very orderly manner, and the ones that were folded were neat as well. It looks like most of his shorts are new, but I guess he was embarrassed to have one of you pack some of his clothes for him, anyway."

Diana glanced over at her husband's profile in the scant light in the vehicle. "Carla could do worse."

Jeff was quiet for a moment, then sighed, "Baby, why do women tend to match-make? Fred is no more interested in that woman than... I don't know an adjective that will fit. Hon, he just lost his wife. A wife that he still loves more than life itself. He's just helping Carla and Jessica because he's Fred. Heck, we're doing the same thing. You are. Frank and Margaret have pitched in just like the rest of us."

Diana turned in the seat, leaning her back on the door a little so she could face her husband, grinning at him. "A month."

"A month, what?" he asked, getting exasperated.

"A month until he's in her bed."

"Di, it's not going to happen. Fred's what? Fifty-five or so, and she's about forty. She isn't interested in him sexually. Her world has been turned upside down — the loss of her husband, the hospital sucking up everything she had, those assholes trying to take her place away from her... Fred has the expertise to help her around the farm, and he needs to do it as much as she needs him to do it. But that's it."

Jeff touched his brakes when the Escalade's brake lights came on in front of him as Laura negotiated a sharp curve. Realizing that his lights might be blinding her, he backed off some more.

Diana glanced at the Escalade, then back to her husband. "They're made for each other. And besides that, both have lost a spouse. A spouse that was loved, greatly."

"Yeah," Jeff said. "That's definitely true about Fred. He is still shedding tears regularly for Brenda."

"And how long would you wait if I died?" Diana floored him by asking.

Jeff snapped his head around, jerking the wheel slightly. "Di, don't you ever say anything like that. I can't even think about that."

"Baby, do you think that Brenda would want him to sit and cry for her? Of course not. Any spouse that really loved his or her mate wouldn't want that. Sam would want her to get on with her life, and want his daughter to get on with hers. Jessica has already had to quit college because of her father's illness. Fred is the ticket for both of them."

Diana reached over and gently punched Jeff's leg with her finger. "Carla has already mentioned that she needed to get rid of the hospital bed in the other bedroom. That sounds to me like she is expecting Fred to be around more than just a night or two."

Jeff laughed. "I'll be the first to admit that I know absolutely nothing about women, but I just can't imagine that Carla would want someone so much older than she is."

Diana cleared her throat, exaggerating the sound. "Helen?" she simply said.

"Uh, well that was a bit different," Jeff temporized.

"Oh, really? The age difference is about the same. And you used the healer on Fred twice, for a long time. He's losing weight, and he sure surprised all of us when we ran those two mornings. He's overweight, but he's still a pretty tough cookie. With some exercise — and he's darn sure going to get it on that farm — he might surprise all of us." Diana smiled as they made their way down the mountain, the snow changing to light rain, then the precipitation stopping completely a little later.

-------

Carla looked around the table at her new friends. "Okay, I'll give up and go to bed," she laughed as Diana smirked. "It just makes me feel a little odd with us going to bed and leaving you people still with another meal to fix."

"And, how much sleep are you going to get if you fix a meal at one, then another at six in the morning?" Helen asked her. "We'll sleep between times, then we have all day tomorrow off while you, Fred and Jessica are working your butts off in the fields."

Carla stood up. "I've said it over and over, but it just doesn't seem to be enough. Thanks all of you for doing this — all of it."

Diana laughed at her. "Go get some sleep. You guys have a big day tomorrow."

"Okay," Carla said, then turning to Fred, "Jess has everything she needs out of her room. We'll see you in the morning," she finished as she and Jessica left for her bedroom, the two women sleeping together so Fred could have Jessica's bed.

Evie and Dave went out the back, headed back to work.

"Well, see you at six then," Fred said, standing. "These old bones will be sore tomorrow night. I haven't sat my butt on a piece of machinery all day in a long time. Heck, moving the equipment out of the way when the John Deere people unloaded the stuff off the trucks was fun. Ten or twelve hours sitting in that thing might wipe out some of the excitement, though," he laughed. "Anyway, I'm going to try out Jessica's bed."

A few moments later, Diana glanced at her husband. "We've got everything moved out of the center of the living room and our blankets are on the floor. Too bad we don't have enough sleeping bags for everyone. We'll have to correct that in case something like this comes up again. Anyway, we're going to take a nap until about midnight, then get their one o'clock meal started. We've made you a bed on one of the couches, my husband, but I guess you guys won't be back until you take a break after the meal, right?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. "We're going to help."

"I hate to think about sleeping without my husband by my side, but no telling what Carla and Jessica would think if they came by and you had seven women snuggled around you on the floor."

Everybody laughed about that and Helen commented, "I'm reasonably certain that they already know that something is a little odd. We will not fool them for long. I was a principal of the high school when Jessica was there. She was an excellent student, made good grades and was never in any trouble. She's smart, and so is her mother."

Concerned, Helen looked at Diana. "What are we going to tell them when they start asking questions?"

"Well..."

Jeff answered, instead. "Just tell them the truth and ask them not to tell. Remind them that we aren't breaking any laws, but we don't want the notoriety that would be bound to come if everyone knew. Neither of those two women is stupid, as we've already commented. To be blunt, we've done a lot for them. They would be foolish to tell others about our private lives. In addition, I'm impressed with both of them. I fully believe that they would have made a go of it if they could have put off the hospital for a couple of years, instead of having to pay before Sam had the tests, and all the procedures."

Looking around him at his wives, he continued, "Just be cautious about what we say and do around them. Who knows, maybe they won't notice."

"Yeah, right," Diana laughed. "Our Alpha Male has been cooped up in the house with us tonight for a least an hour. We and they have been around him all day. And they won't notice. I repeat: Yeah, right," she laughed.

Getting up, she said, "Okay, let's get everything put up, then go to bed. I'll set the alarm for midnight. Everybody kiss our husband. A light, sisterly kiss. If he gets an erection, we'll all be on the floor with our rears in the air, waiting to be serviced, girls," she finished, mock glaring at the teenagers.

"Yes, Momma," they all said in unison. Laughing, they got up to clean the kitchen.

-------

The meal at one went off without a hitch. Lee had decided to have his people take three hours out for sleep, worrying about accidents from a tired crew. Dave, Evie and their people did the same thing, since their people had already worked all day as well. The ones that hadn't been brought blankets by their spouses were loaned one by the women.

Jeff and Frank worked with Dave and Evie's people mostly being gofers until the meal. After they ate, Evie joined Dave on the couch, and the other women went back to the floor, with Jeff claiming the other couch.

Awakening, and not being able to get back to sleep, Jessica got up for a glass of milk shortly after the others went to bed after their meal. When she got back into bed with her mother, Carla asked, startling Jessica, "Well, did you catch them doing anything?"

"Mom. I thought you were asleep."

"You didn't answer my question."

Jessica chuckled. "No. Jeff was on one couch; Dave and Evie are cuddled up on the other one. Frank and Margaret are on one of the recliners. But all the, uh... other women are cuddled up in the middle of the floor, asleep. And why would you ask me if I caught them?"

"Jess, we've always told each other everything. You even came in and woke me up the night you gave your cherry to that boy. I know darn good and well that you tried to sneak a peek just now."

Jessica slid back under the sheet with her mother. "Yeah, I wanted to look in and see what they were doing. But they were just all cuddled up together with Jeff sleeping by himself. Do you really suppose... My gosh. What about Arlene?"

Carla turned over to face her daughter in the dim light of the room. "What about her?" Carla asked as she tried to make out the expression on her daughter's face. "You've led a pretty sheltered life. Granted a hard life as far as work is concerned, still you haven't been exposed to a lot. Not that I have either. And you've told me that you didn't sleep with anyone while you were in college. Well, you only got to stay two years before your father got sick." She sighed. "I don't know about Arlene, but I would be willing to bet that Jeff knows the others in the biblical sense."

Carla wiggled into a more comfortable position. "But how can one man... I mean..."

"Baby, all men aren't alike. Your dad used to go four or five times in one night when we first got married. Some men go once, roll over and go to sleep. Jeff is doing something right. They about worship the ground he walks on. If he's screwing his daughter, too, it doesn't seem like she's been done any harm. They've made me laugh more today than I have in a long time, and Arlene was the instigator of a lot of it. If she's faking enjoying life, she's a darn good actress."

Jessica was quiet for a moment, then as Carla had begun to think that her daughter had gone to sleep, she said, "None of them seems jealous. Heck, they even say the same thing at the same time, occasionally. Ann and Arlene kissed each other. Well, not a long kiss, but it was more than a peck. Watching them, and seeing them with him makes me..."

"... horny," her mother finished for her. "What's the matter? Haven't you been using your vibrator, lately?"

"Mother!"

"Mine is in the top dresser drawer on the right. Take it to the bathroom with you, or hush and let me get to sleep. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Mother."

"You already said that," Carla said, turning over and adjusting her pillow. She was soon back asleep while Jessica lay wondering for a long time.

-------

At four-thirty Jeff, Frank, Evie and Dave, after brewing a pot of coffee, were all back at it again.

Connie poured two cups of coffee from one of the big thermoses, then walked over to where Jeremy was sitting humped over holding his head in his hands. "Here. Maybe this will help," she said nudging him on the shoulder.

He jumped, almost causing Connie to spill the coffee on him. "Shit, Connie, don't start," he said, eying the coffee with suspicion. "That wasn't enough sleep. And sitting in that truck for three hours has made a crick in my neck. Lay off for a while, will you?"

"I'm not messing with you Ki... , uh, Jeremy. I just brought you a cup of coffee. You take sugar and cream in it, don't you?"

Jeremy opened his red eyes a little wider, checking Connie out, trying to figure what she was up to. "Uh, yeah," he tentatively answered.

"Good. Me, too. I fixed them both alike," she said, sitting down by him on the ground and handing him his coffee.

"Look, Connie. I don't feel like it right now. Mess with somebody else for awhile."

Taking a sip of coffee, she smiled at him, although she didn't know whether he could see her in the poor light or not. "Alright. I've been a bitch. I've teased the shit out of you for months now. And that's because I was attracted to you, and you're younger than I am. But, I apologize. I'll slack off from now on."

Jeremy just stared at her, not knowing what to say.

Setting her coffee on the ground, Connie stood up, moved behind him and knelt down. As she put her hand on his shoulders, he leaned forward, away from her, trying to turn to look at her.

"Connie, what are you up to? Crap."

"Hush, Jeremy. Lean back. I'm just going to rub your neck for you. Maybe it'll help the crick. I promise; I'm not messing with you."

Hearing the tone of her voice, he cautiously leaned back, allowing her to put her hands on his neck. Within a few seconds, he groaned as her hands, made strong by operating the crane, kneaded and massaged his neck and shoulders.

"You've got knots in your neck muscles. This will help. Just relax."

After a few minutes of silence, Connie asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Jeremy waited a moment, wondering where she was going with this, but eventually answered, "I did have, until she met my best friend," he said, his voice going hard. "He had a nice new Vette. I guess she liked it better than my old Ford truck," he said morosely — "him, too. The next thing I knew, she's shacked up with him, and I didn't even get to first base with her."

"Well," Connie said, "wait until he has to spend all his money on the car payments, and she wants to go out. She might not be as excited about his Vette, then."

Without realizing it, Jeremy had leaned back farther against Connie as she continued to massage the sore muscles of his neck. "How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty. I'll be twenty-one next month. Why?"

"Uhmmm. No real reason. Just wondering. Look, you know the guy I'm living with?"

"Yeah, I've seen that monster. If he hears about you rubbing my neck, I'm going to be in a world of shit."

"No, you won't," she said, laughing. "I'm going to be living with Denise, shortly. Want to come over and eat supper with us one night after work?"

Jeremy tried to turn around enough to look at her. "What the fuck are you up to," he said before she touched her lips to his, hard, then quickly picked up her coffee and left.

Jeremy stared at her barely-visible, retreating figure until he spilled some of the hot coffee on his leg. "Ouch. Shit, that's hot," he mumbled, wiping the coffee off his pants leg. I know she's messing with me. I just can't figure out how.

Willard chose that moment to start one of the big generators, and a bank of the powerful lights came on. Jeremy could see the redhead a lot better now, and continued to stare, now focusing on her tight ass as it swayed, perhaps a little more than usual, as she walked to her crane. Women,  he thought. My dad didn't tell me enough about them. I haven't got a fucking clue.

Staggering to his feet, he took a swallow of the coffee, the feel of Connie's warm hands still fresh on his mind as he headed toward Lee to see what he wanted him to start out on.

-------

With the first foundation graded out by Evie, and prepared, the crew quickly put in the wooden forms, the wire, and rebar. By six, Jeff and Fred's gofer trips had been changed to feeding cement, sand and gravel to the mixer. By shortly after eight, the first foundation was poured. Evie's first crew staggered to the house to eat a good breakfast prepared by the women, then headed for home, as the next crew took over.

"Where's Fred?" Jeff asked, looking around as he sat down at the kitchen table, Wainwright fairly collapsing into a chair.

"They ate at six, and headed for the fields. Carla said something about getting Fred started on gathering the corn while the dew dried off the hay. I got lost in the conversation, but they all went to the corn field to start with. I think both Carla and Jessica are going to mow later in the morning, after the dew is off, and Jessica is going to transport the corn to the silo for Fred when she is needed. They carried water and a lunch with them, insisting that they weren't going to come back to the house until it was too late to work in the hay field."

Looking at her husband as she poured him coffee, she asked, "What's that smirk on your face supposed to mean?"

"It means," Jeff said looking up at her, a smile growing bigger, "that my friend will make it. I was about to beat my brains out trying to think of something to keep him busy. Looks like Carla has taken her volunteer and is going to work his ass off. What better way to assuage his pain? She knows that he lost his wife, right?"

"Yes, I told her, earlier," Diana answered, putting a steak on his plate as Helen finished scrambling his eggs.

"Good," Jeff said. "Fred will come in tonight so tired he'll be asleep ten minutes after he eats supper."

"I'm familiar with that feeling," Frank sighed as Margaret set a plate of food in front of him. "I knew I was out of shape, but that damned mixer about finished me."

Jeff looked at him and grinned.

"So, you think Fred will stay here tonight?" Diana asked, a grin touching her lips as well.

Jeff watched Laura buttering a home-baked biscuit for him. "Do you realize how much you do for me?" Jeff asked touching her arm.

Margaret looked up as she stood behind Frank, picked up his biscuit, split it open and added a big dollop of butter. Grinning at him, she put the biscuit back on his plate, then quietly whispered in his ear, "Yes."

Wainwright's hand shook, and he quickly set his coffee down before he spilled it. As he reached for Margaret, the rest unaware what had just happened, she danced away from him to return to her cooking. Suddenly, he felt better — lots better. A grin spread across his face as the conversation continued around him.

Laura didn't answer Jeff, but suddenly kissed him hard, then returned to her chair, barely suppressing a giggle just because she was happy, but refusing to answer him.

Diana smiled at the exchange, vaguely realizing that something had happened with Frank and Margaret as well, "So..."

"I think Fred is one of the most responsibility conscious people that I've ever met. He'll figure that it's his responsibility to help those two women. From what I've seen, Carla and Jessica are two very levelheaded and pragmatic people. They would be fools to not do everything they can to have him stay around for awhile. And, I'm not talking about sex. But they have a common background, although, Fred's is a long way back. He said that he always liked the work on a farm, so he's having a ball, while fulfilling what he sees as his responsibility. At least until this harvest is in, I don't think we're going to see a lot of him — unless we're walking around in one of those fields," he laughed.

Dave and Evie came in, and like Jeff and Frank, both of them had rinsed the worst of the dirt off their hands and faces with the hose, before coming into the house.

"Man that smells good," Dave said. "We'll be back as soon as we get clean enough to sit at the table." Then, "Hey, Boss, when did your hair turn gray?"

"Don't start any shit and there won't be any," Jeff faked a grump. "It's cement dust, as you well know." Evie and Dave both laughed as they went on to the bathroom to wash up.

When the two came back a few minutes later, Dave continued, "Well, I have some more bad news." When Jeff looked at him, having just put a bite of steak in his mouth, Dave continued, "I called the cement place. They're tied up on a big job for the next couple of days, so I can't get a delivery of premixed. Looks like we're going to have to put down those next two foundations the hard way, as well."

Jeff sighed, "I watched your people working their butts off on the range, mixing their own concrete, but now I know how it feels, up close and personal. That mixer will make a man out of you, or else kill you in the process. I think I've got sore muscles in places that I didn't know I even had muscles."

"Amen to that," Wainwright said.

Dave grinned, "Yeah, I'll agree with you there, but it gets easier after you have done it for a few days."

"If you're not dead first," Wainwright said, somewhat muffled as he tried to appease his appetite.

"I'll take your word for it, Dave," Jeff said, grinning at Frank's comment. "I hope I personally never have to find out."

Jeff watched Dave and Evie with a critical eye. They were both obviously tired.

"I sent three of our people to Carla. They were raised on farms in the area and should be a lot of help to her," Dave said, reaching for the biscuits.

"Good," Jeff said. "Can you two drive home without going to sleep?"

Evie stopped spreading jelly on her toast, looked at Jeff and said, "We're not going home. We got three hours sleep last night, we're going to pour the other two foundations today."

Jeff's wives objected, as did he. "We're far enough along now that Carla won't be hindered. The concrete has to set anyway, right?"

"Yeah, but the sooner it's poured, the sooner it will be ready for the silos to be put on it. And don't forget, I'm using the quick stuff. What we poured this morning will be ready tomorrow."

Jeff shook his head. "You have a crew working on it. You two go home and get some sleep. Didn't I see one of your foremen come in with the crew?"

"Yeah, Jackson is here. But Evie and I can make a hell of a difference..."

"And you have. And you will, but get some rest. We're ahead of Carla now. There are two silos up and Lee told me the third would be up by about two this afternoon. Even with your three extra people helping them, surely Carla can't fill those silos that fast."

Dave looked at Evie, and she nodded. "Talked us into it," Dave sighed.

"Your crew brought their lunches today, right?"

"Yeah. Like always," Dave agreed.

"Jeff looked around the room. So, what say we stay and the ladies fix for the silo crew until they get the third one up. Then we'll leave it with Carla. If you would, Dave, notify the silo company that we want three more silos delivered whenever you think the foundations will be ready."

"Already done, Boss. They're to bring three more silos Monday, and stay until they're done. He said that they would provide for the crews this time, and thanked us for helping out with the meals."

Dave was quiet for a moment while he ate, then, "If you don't mind, I'll bring the two crews that are working on the indoor range and classrooms down from the retreat tomorrow and get them started on clearing the wreckage from the barn."

"If our luck holds," Evie picked up, "by the middle of next week, we should be able to start on the barn, maybe even a little before then."

Jeff looked up at Dave. "Good idea. Our indoor range can wait indefinitely. What about the suite renovations? Will they be ready?"

"Korey says they're on schedule and will finish up by noon tomorrow."

Jeff turned to Helen. "What about the classrooms, Helen?"

Helen stopped what she was doing at the sink and wiped her hands on a towel. "We, of course, would love to have them done, but actually, we are doing fine with what we have. I have worked with far less. Mostly, I'm just making assignments, giving out a textbook, then giving tests. Our new classroom will enhance our area, but we will not be hurt by waiting for a while. We can catch up on lab work, later."

Evie sat back in her chair. "We can clean up the mess with those two crews, then when the big job finishes in Denver, we can bring that big crew out here to build the barn, and get things going again at the retreat."

"That sounds good," Jeff said, then turning to his young wives, "Girls?"

The girls looked at each other, then Arlene said, "We're fine Dad. Carla and Jessica need all the help they can get. We just wish we could do something for them. Jessica had to drop out of college when her dad got sick. She was majoring in animal husbandry, and had hopes of breeding cattle and horses. But I didn't quite understand all the things she was talking about. She figures college is a lost hope, now. "

"The hell it is," Jeff quietly said to himself, but the smile on Arlene's face showed that at least one other person had heard his comment.



-------

Chapter 36

Carla, Jessica and Fred stood in the corn field. Fred, propped against a tractor wheel almost as tall as he was, grinned at Carla. "Look, Carla, I know I've never run a combine before, but you've already checked me out on it. The darn thing is actually easier to operate than that two-row corn picker we used to have, and I've run a cotton picker before. There's not that much difference. With Jeff's money, we don't even have to take the corn heads off to change to wheat. Hell, he bought a combine for that so you didn't have to change the setup, even though he bought extra heads, just in case. Everything is power on this thing; it even has air conditioning for crying out loud. It adjusts to the hillside, not that you have enough slope here to even notice, anyway. I..."

Carla and Jessica exchanged a glance. "I know. I know. I'm just afraid that you're going to get hurt," she sighed. "You said you hadn't worked on a farm for many years. People — a lot of people — have gotten hurt with farm equipment. Sam, Jessica and I were always doubly safe with everything. There are so many ways to get hurt. You're not likely to get a jam with this rig, but if you do, don't try to clear it yourself. Call me on the radio. Shut everything down, but don't put your hands anywhere near the jam. Even with the power shut off, you can still get hurt."

Looking up at him, she continued, "We heard of a guy who shut the equipment down, kicked a rock out that was causing the jam, and got his foot cut off. There was still enough pressure on the system to move. When he kicked the rock out, it... Well... Just don't do anything until Jessica or I get here. There aren't many rocks in the fields — never were that many, anyway. But Sam and I cleared everything we could find that would cause us trouble. But there's always the occasional something..."

Surprising Carla, Fred grabbed her and hugged her. Quickly releasing the startled woman, he chuckled and said, "I was raised on a farm. My dad preached safety almost as much as the rangemaster at the police department. Neither job killed me, and I still have all my fingers and toes. I can run this monster, and I'll call if anything happens. Now go get those folks that Dave sent out here lined up with something to do. My biggest problem is getting my fat ass up the steps into this thing," he teased. "Now get, and let my old bones get to work," he finished laughing, as he made his way up the short ladder to the cab.

Jeff and Frank stood at the crest of a little hill watching the scene in the distance as Fred started the combine, slowly moving down the field, leaving only stubble and debris behind him. The two women stood watching for a moment, then mounted their equipment and headed for the hay fields.

"You think the boss was laying out the rules?" Frank joked, as they turned toward the house.

"Probably so," Jeff answered. "Diana said that Carla was a bit uptight about Fred, since he hadn't worked on a farm in so long."

"Yeah, that's about what I thought, too. Are we going back to help Evie's crew?" Frank asked as they continued walking toward the house.

"Not unless you just want to get some more sore muscles."

Frank laughed out. "No thanks. I think I've had my share, and they're just starting to get sore. I'll probably be whining for real in the morning."

"I think we'll let the professionals do their thing by themselves. Besides, they seem to have all their equipment with them today. We would just be in the way. And... this crew is fresh. They would be laughing at us, shortly," Jeff laughed along with Frank.

As they stepped up on the back porch and Jeff reached for the door knob, they heard Diana squeal, "You what?"

When they opened the door, Diana had Margaret in a bear hug. "Oh, wonderful. Wonderful!" she cried, almost dancing with the older woman.

"You didn't?" Jeff said, grinning at Frank.

"Uh, I guess I did. Right after your wedding, actually. But she accepted this morning at breakfast," Frank proudly said.

The rest of the wives, having heard, or sensed, Jeff suspected, boiled into the kitchen. Pandemonium reigned for the next little while as all the women hugged Frank and Margaret, congratulating them.

"Where's it going to be?" Diana asked Margaret, then turned to Frank. "Please say you're going to have it at the retreat."

"Uh, well," Frank stammered, "That would be up to Margaret. I don't care where she says 'I do, ' just so she does," Frank said.

Margaret smiled tentatively at Diana, "Are you sure it would be all right. I mean, we would have to invite quite a few people. And the retreat is your home..."

Diana glanced around the room at all the smiling faces. Turning back to Margaret, she said, "We would be delighted if you would allow us to host your wedding. We certainly have enough room, and all your guests could stay over. That way they can enjoy the reception, and not have to drive afterward. After the ceremony, while you two are having fun," Diana laughed, "we can get the real lowdown on you guys from the people who really know you," she teased.

Jeff shook Frank's hand, and pounded him on the back. "Way to go," Jeff laughed. "You finally talked her into it."

Jeff finally got a chance to hug Margaret and congratulate her. The lump in his throat astonished him. He had thought that he had considered them man and wife, anyway, that this wouldn't make any difference. Apparently it had. The women surely thought so.

-------

Later in the morning, Diana turned to Jeff. "Baby, I've checked through Carla and Jessica's food supplies. I guess that since they were moving, and didn't have much money, they have very little food in the house, other than what we brought. We've used up the major part of that, and we'll use even more of it at lunch. We need to make a quick trip to Winter Park to restock for her until she has time to buy her own."

"Hon, we gave her twenty grand for running money. Are you sure about this? Doing something like that is personal. She might not appreciate it."

Diana thought for a moment, then looked at her sister-wives. "Normally, I would say you're right, but she's going to be working from daylight until dark, then no telling what else she has to do around here. If she gets pissed at me for overstepping my bounds... She didn't get mad when we brought all that food down to feed the crews. I just don't want her having to go shopping for food when she gets in from the fields. She also has to think about feeding Fred. I'll leave her a note. If she gets mad, I'll apologize."

A couple of hours later, with the pickup laden with a massive amount of groceries, they restocked Carla's pantry and freezers.

At noon, they fed the silo crew for the last time. Carla, Jessica and Fred didn't come in for lunch, and other than unloading the combine into the trailers on a regular basis, they didn't see Fred stop at all.

-------

Jeff, Evie and Dave sat on the back porch looking out toward the fields, where they could see Fred's combine in the distance slowly moving across one of the corn fields. Jeff looked over at Dave, "Lee says he's right on schedule. He thinks they'll be done with the third silo around two," Jeff said, as he leaned back and crossed his legs. "When do you think your foundations for the other three silos will be ready?"

"Probably Saturday noon," Dave said, taking a sip of iced tea. "We should be through pouring the last one by noon tomorrow, but I had rather they set over the weekend. We're far enough ahead of Carla now so that we don't have to hurry any more, do we?"

"Looks that way to me. They haven't even made a good dent in that first corn field, or the hay field either, for that matter, not that hay has anything to do with the silos." Motioning to the equipment in the distance, he continued, "I've noticed that Fred now has a tractor and trailer moving across the field with him, the corn feeding directly into the trailer as the two machines move along together. But even so, he's not going to fill up that first silo any time soon, not as big as those things are."

The husband and wife looked at each other. "Tell him," Evie encouraged.

Dave hesitated.

"Tell me what?" Jeff said. "What's the matter? Are you asking for a raise?" he teased.

Dave chuckled, "I never though that something like that would ever become a joke. Our lives have changed an awful lot," he said, his voice now serious, "and we appreciate all you have done for us, Jeff..."

"... And all your wives have done for us, too," Evie broke in.

Dave and Evie looked at each other. Dave turned back to Jeff and said, "Carla mentioned something, just in passing, and well... Evie and I checked it out a little this morning while you were in town buying groceries. Uh, there's an old couple that own the next farm over." He nodded vaguely toward the west side of Carla's farm.

"What in the world is the matter with you two? Is the old couple having money problems, or something?"

Dave chuckled, "No. Well, not that we know of. Actually they're trying to sell their place. Mr. Thompson said that he and his wife have gotten too old to run the farm. Their kids didn't want to have anything to do with farm life when they got grown, and moved to Denver. The Thompsons obviously love the place. It's all they've known all their lives. He inherited the farm from his father. It's just kind of sad to hear them talk about selling, but even though they're okay financially now, the taxes will eat up their savings quickly without an income from the farm. Arthritis has just about put an end to his hard-working days."

"And?" Jeff prompted, a grin beginning to show.

"Well, doggone it Boss, their farm joins Carla's place, and it's even bigger by another four hundred acres. We want you to buy it."

"And..." Jeff grinned.

"We want you to leave them the house and twenty acres of land for them to have in case they want to raise a few cattle, or something. That way, they wouldn't have to move to the city, which they hate, and Carla wouldn't need the house anyway..."

"Do it," Jeff said

"... They would have enough money... What did you say?" Dave stopped and asked when he realized that Jeff had spoken.

"Do it," Jeff quietly repeated.

Dave looked at Evie, whose sparkling eyes smiled back at him. "Told you," she said.

Jeff stood up to go into the yard. "Run it by Carla and Jessica. They'll be running it, along with you two. If she says yes, get back with me and I'll get the lawyer and accountant on the phone with you."

"Uh, Boss, I can probably talk them down some on the price..."

"Is it a fair price?"

"Oh, heck yes. They've been thinking about selling for a while, but for some reason suddenly decided that now was the time."

"Then buy it. And make sure the old couple is treated right."

"Uh, if you have time, we could ride over and talk to them, let you look around."

Jeff, halfway down the steps, stopped and turned around. "You two know by now that I know absolutely nothing about a farm or ranch. You're my project manager. If you think the place needs buying, then go buy it. I'm going out and spend some time with the silo crew before they leave."

He didn't notice Dave and Evie hug each other as he walked away.

A few minutes later, Jeff watched Lee and one of the other men testing the system that moved grain into and out of the silos. Jeff waited as Lee acknowledged him with his hand, then after talking with his worker, walked over to Jeff. "Everything is working perfectly, and the silos do look good, don't they Mr. Matthews?"

"Very impressive. Some of the tallest I've seen, except at grain elevators, of course. But I would feel better if you would drop that 'Mr.' and just call me Jeff, like we talked about yesterday."

Lee cleared his throat. "Uh, my boss is emphatic about calling the customer Mr. or Mrs. He and I get crossways enough without adding to it," he grinned.

"Please the customer?" Jeff said.

"Yeah, that's about it. We wouldn't have a company without customers."

"Then, please me by calling me Jeff."

Lee grinned at Jeff. "I could feel that one coming. I just couldn't get out of it." Chuckling, he continued, "Well, Jeff, what's on your mind today?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking. Uh, my project manager just told me that he wanted to buy the next farm over. The owners have gotten too old to run it. We discussed buying most of the farmland, leaving them the house and a few acres... and well, expanding Carla's operation. I haven't even looked at the place, but if I know my project manager, that will happen soon."

Jeff propped his foot on a piece of scrap steel. "If we do buy the farm, we'll probably have to modernize it in order for Carla and Jessica to be able to handle both places. We'll also have to hire them some help, as least occasionally. So when you finish with our next three silos, you might not be through with us. Dave and I agree that what we've seen of your work is first class. You might tell your boss that we're impressed and will probably be using you again because of that good work."

Lee put out his hand. After they shook, he said, "I appreciate that Mr., uh... Jeff. And I'll pass it along to the crew, although I doubt that Mr. Jackson will put much stock in it when I tell him. Sometimes, he and I don't hit it off as well as I would like for us to. Oh, and again, we really appreciate the bonus."

"Glad we could help out a little."

As Lee turned to go back to work, he stopped and said, "I'm sure we'll see you while we're putting up the next three, if not, just give us a call when you decide about the other place. We should be just about past our rush this time of year, so there shouldn't be any big delay."

"Oh, there's no need to rush on the next three, as we discussed. We need them up, but Carla isn't frantic for them the way she was for the first three. By the time she gets around to her other crops, you should easily have the next ones in place. I understand that Mr. Thompson cut back on production this year, and already has his crops in. So, if we buy the place, we won't be in any hurry there. He may have plenty of storage space as it is, but I want to make sure the system he has for unloading into his silos is up to date. But I suspect we'll be installing a few more of these modern ones, as well."

"Good deal. Just let us know," Lee said, walking off.

A little later, Dave, Jeff and Frank had taken ATV's for a look around the farm. As they sat near a corn field watching the — now two — combines slowly moving across it, Dave spoke. "The long-range forecast calls for mostly dry weather, with only a couple of days of rain during the next two weeks. Carla should be able to get most of her crops in..."

Jeff frowned and turned to him. "What do you mean the 'most?'"

"Well, Carla tells me — and as we've just seen — that she has wheat, oats, soybeans, some barley, even a field of peas — I guess she uses them in her feed. Not to say anything about that huge crop of corn, or the hay. Even with my people helping, those two combines aren't going to get everything in, even if everything goes smoothly, and you darn sure know about Murphy."

"So we need more people and more equipment?" Jeff half asked and half stated.

"Uh, Jeff. There's a thing called diminishing returns. As you well know that machinery costs money..." His voice stumbled as he realized that Wainwright was chuckling, almost to himself. "Uh, you can't keep buying large equipment and expect to make a profit. The cost of buying more equipment will far outweigh the loss of part of the crop."

Jeff turned to look at Dave more directly. "And what about next year, and the next? And what about Thompson's farm that you're going to buy? Aren't we going to need equipment for it? I'd be surprised, to put it mildly, if his equipment is as modern as what we're looking at in that field over there. No way can Carla and Jessica handle everything by themselves, and no matter how many people you hire, if they don't have equipment to work with, they can't get the work done."

"What about this other farm?" Wainwright asked.

"How many more?" Dave sighed.

"Start with two. See if you can get them delivered today, or at least the very first thing tomorrow morning. What about people to run them?"

"The two pulling the grain trailers have run combines before. They can do it. I can get a couple of other people to drive the tractors that are pulling the trailers alongside the combines. Anybody can do that."

"What other farm?" Wainwright asked again, looking back and forth at the two other men as they continued their conversation.

"Might as well get all the attachments that go with them. Be sure to tell, what's his name, Davenport, exactly what crops Carla has and ask for any attachments she will need to gather them. Crap, I wish I knew more about farming. Get enough equipment out here to get her crops in. This woman, well both of them, have had enough trauma in their lives without watching their crops ruin that they've worked so hard to produce. They thought they had lost everything the day they started to move, then we came in and built up their hopes. She's not going to lose anything else if I can help it. We need twice as many machines in that corn field right now."

Wainwright just gave up and listened to the conversation.

After discussing the equipment for a few minutes more, Dave started his four-wheeler and headed for the house as fast as he could.

Jeff turned to Frank. "Sorry. The next farm over is for sale. Dave says it's a good deal. People keep telling me that the corporate farms put most of the little farmers and ranchers out of business. They operate the giant farms with modern equipment and everything that can be, is mechanized. We're going to do that here. If the big boys make money that way, so can Carla and Jessica. Otherwise, they'll still be struggling ten years from now.

"Besides, I thought my accountant was going to have an orgasm when I told him the corporation was buying this farm. Between my investment person, and you, I'm making money hand over fist. We won't lose any money here. It just... seems right. That old couple next door will get to keep the place they love, and I'll leave them forty acres to play with if they still want to do something — and their house. And in case you haven't noticed, that hill that runs across the front forty of Carla's property, continues past the next farm, too. We could cut a road from the back to the Thompson's house, like Carla has, and build houses across the front part of Thompson's property just like we're going to do here. That hillside will separate the expensive homes from the two farms, just like it would for Carla's place. What do you think?"

"Damned if I know. But it sounds like fun, anyway," Frank replied. "And you know that I think the homes will sell."

Jeff thought for a moment then continued, "Might as well tell the Thompson's about Kerney. He might be able to help them with their investments. He's sure been a jewel for me."

Wainwright chuckled. "I'm glad you took my advice about him. We don't use him exclusively — I don't believe in putting all my eggs in one basket, as they say — but he's made me a lot of money. He has a talent for investment. Now tell me about this other farm."

"Well, I just did," Jeff said leaning back and propping his foot up. "That's all I know about it."

"You mean that you're buying a farm that you haven't even seen?"

Jeff laughed. "I bought this one, if you remember, and about all I saw was a house and a burned-down barn. Dave and Evie talked to the Thompsons, and I'll see it later, but I want to give my project manager his head. Let him know that I trust him, and Evie too, of course."

Wainwright laughed again. "Like I did when I told my pilot to buy the plane, and wouldn't talk to the company that produced them. Let them know that he was in charge — that it was his baby."

"Exactly," Jeff replied. "Unfortunately, not everyone feels that way. A while back, I went to the dentist to have my teeth cleaned. I like the receptionist; she's always nice, remembers me, and I guess most everybody that comes in regularly. Anyway, sitting there listening to her talk on the phone as people made appointments, she would say things like, 'I can't get to you then, but I have this time slot open.' I noticed that she treated the patients and me like she owned the place. Oh, I don't mean that she did it in an arrogant manner, she just... evidenced ownership; I guess you would call it.

"She was always doing something; never sitting still; she obviously cared about the business. I mentioned to the doctor that I was impressed with her receptionist, but the doctor came back with a negative comment about her. It irritated me, and I ran my mouth a little. I told the doctor that she had better wake up before she let that receptionist get away and had to hire two people to replace her. I think the doctor was pissed because the receptionist acted like the business was hers. But if something is yours, you take better care of it. With Dave and Evie bringing this to me as their idea, why not let them carry it through? That way they have a type of ownership and will probably wind up taking better care of my money in the long run.

"You know how I feel about charities. Oh, my accountant has insisted that I put some money into them, and I know there are a lot of needy people. But I can't control where the money is going. Some of it might go to some people who really need it; some of it will probably go to folks who haven't hit a lick of work in twenty years, and never will, no matter how many opportunities come to them. And I'll keep giving to the charities, but I am also going to invest some of my money in people like Carla and Jessica. I don't expect to make a profit out of this farm, or the other one, but then again, the corporations do. Why not copy their act."

"You're going to help Martha out, too, aren't you?" Wainwright said, a gleam in his eye.

"No; that's not mine. I told Diana that one was hers. I saw her and the rest of my wives with a sketch of a restaurant, so I imagine Martha is going to have a surprise soon."

They sat watching the combines, tractors and trailers moving across the field for a time, then Wainwright said, "We think a lot alike. Both of us respect someone who works hard. Of course, my parents instilled it in me, as I've told you about. I have this person. He's worked for the company even before my Mom and Dad were killed. He has very little education — maybe sixth grade — and started out as a janitor.

"Much to some of my associate's disgruntlement, sometimes, I appreciate a good worker, no matter the type of work. If I'm not busy, I'm about as prone to snatch up a laborer and take him to lunch as I am one of the lofty — to themselves — department heads. Wallace, as I said, started out as a janitor many years ago — damn, I hate to even think about him retiring — and I eventually promoted him to head of his department. Now, you know how big our outfit is and how many buildings, labs and offices we have, so he has a number of people working for him. He had cleaned my dad's office, and when I took over, he continued cleaning my office as well.

"When I promoted him to head of his department, after the other department head retired, I expected that I wasn't going to have an immaculate office like I had become accustomed to. But everything continued just like before. Finally, one morning, I came in extra early, and guess who was cleaning my office? I couldn't believe it. Here he had been in charge of all those other people for six months or so, and he was still cleaning my office, and my secretary's.

"After he was through, I sat him down, got him a cup of coffee, told him I appreciated the extra attention, but he should delegate it to someone else. He just grinned at me and said, 'Yes, Boss.' It didn't take me long to figure out that he was still doing it, though. Then one day, he came to me and said he wanted to talk to me about his son going to college. Well, needless to say, that was easy to take care of. A real no-brainer.

"A couple of years later, he apparently hired two guys that were working at the college as janitors where his son attended. His son had recommended them. Not too long after that, I was at our gym. When I changed into my workout outfit, I hung my clothes in my locker. I didn't lock it. Hell, I own the place. Never even thought about locking it; I never had before. When I dressed, later, I realized that my billfold was gone.

"I looked everywhere. I thought I must have dropped it somewhere. It took a while for me to even consider that it had been stolen. Word got out that my billfold had been stolen, and I had my secretary cancel my credit and debit cards. She asked if I had any cash in the billfold, and I told her about two hundred and fifty dollars.

"The next day when I walked into my office, my billfold was setting in the middle of my desk with my cards and two hundred and fifty dollars in it. Now the only people who have keys to my office are my secretary, the vice presidents and Wallace. When I found him in his office, I thanked him for 'finding' my billfold. He grinned at me with a split lip, and said he had fired the new-hires.

"I never said anything, and he never said anything, but the money in my billfold wasn't my money. I couldn't remember exactly what I had, but I knew I only had one, hundred dollar bill. I think there was a fifty, some twenties, and I know I had three or four five dollar bills. There were no fives when the billfold came back, but I had two hundred and fifty dollars in there. About two months later, I had payroll send him a little note saying he had gotten a 'job assessment' raise.

"When we have our Christmas party, and our yearly company picnic, he sits at my table among the vice presidents. And they treat him like one of them. He'll sit there as long as I run the company. And he still cleans my fucking office.

"Oh, yeah. His son is in medical school now. Mysteriously got a full scholarship from the school. I hear he's doing really well, too," Frank chuckled. "Isn't being rich, fun?"

"Well, I've got more money than I ever thought I would make in a lifetime, but my money doesn't even faintly compare to yours. If the good Lord didn't own everything, anyway, he would be borrowing from you." Thinking for a moment, Jeff grinned anew at Wainwright. "You probably charge off your rides to the conference center in those limos of yours, and the rental ones, as business expense," Jeff laughed, starting his ATV.

Frank looked at him, "Well, everybody does, don't they?" But Jeff didn't hear him as he gunned the motor and headed back toward the house.

-------

All the women sat at Carla's big kitchen table, coffee or soft drinks in front of them. "So tell us about your wedding," Diana said.

"I want this one simple," Margaret said, after hesitating for a moment. "You know that this is the third one for me." She ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her cup. Quietly, she continued, "The first time, I was a virgin. He had tried to get me into bed over and over again. We were both in college. His family was old money, and my parents were not rich, but well off. I guess I wasn't what he expected in bed. We argued about sex on our honeymoon. He wanted me to do things that I was scared to do. The marriage lasted three years. We never really got along. It seemed that everything he liked, I didn't, and everything I liked, he didn't, and we were even less compatible about sex. We finally gave the marriage up as a lost cause."

She took a sip of coffee, then slowly put the cup down. "The second marriage came about five years later. This time, I lived with Mr. Right Number Two for a year before we got married. We were compatible sexually, and we did a lot of other things together. I don't know what happened. I swear, it seemed that I had barely gotten the words 'I do' out of my mouth before we had our first fight. This time the marriage lasted three months. I said I would never do it again."

She sighed and looked around the table. "I swore off sex with men, and got really friendly with my vibrator — for years. I became a workaholic. I went back to school at night. I dated rarely. And I do mean rarely. I eventually went to work for Frank's company. I didn't really have anything else to do, so I put everything into my work — moved up with the company. One day I was in his office trying to convince him to fund one of my pet projects. I looked away toward my white board for a moment, and when I turned my head back, he was in my personal space. He slowly leaned down and kissed me. A long, gentle kiss.

"It floored me. I had never felt anything like that before. When he broke the kiss, he just pulled back a little and looked into my eyes for a moment. Then kissed me again, this time with more passion. When we pulled apart that time, I had to sit down. And he claimed that it bothered him the same way. It wasn't just lust, although that was there, too. It was something else that I hadn't experienced before. We dated for a month, almost every day, before he even touched my breasts. Three months later, he asked me to marry him.

"I told him my story, and said I would never marry again. But that night we made love for the first time. After that for a while, we were like bunnies. The other night at the wedding, he asked me to marry him... Well, he actually said he wanted to put his baby into my womb. I had already told him to quit asking me to marry him. I wasn't going to risk losing him. When I told him 'yes' at the table today, I answered more than just yes to marriage," she finished, blushing.

That brought the house down. When things settled down again, Margaret said, wiping tears from her eyes. "I want a simple wedding this time," she sniffed. "Something like what you people had. My first two weddings were elaborate affairs, pictures from expensive studios, wedding planners, overly decorated churches, elaborate and very expensive dresses for my bridesmaids, everything for the groom as well, a storybook wedding, not to say anything about the honeymoon. Heck, the cakes were thousands of dollars themselves; no telling what the receptions cost — and what good did it do? Your ceremony was far more beautiful to me, because it wasn't show. It was real. Oh, it was beautiful as well; your dresses were superb, but I swear, you could feel the love in that room. I've never seen a ceremony that moved me a tenth as much. And for your honeymoon, you went down the hall to your 'honeymoon suite.'"

She looked down at her cold coffee. "I'm scared to death," she whispered. "I love this man too much to lose him. I've never wanted to have someone's baby, before. What if we can't get along together after we're married? That's what happened before," she said as she looked around the table at the other women, stress evident on her pretty face.

Diana got up and walked to her. Putting a hand on either side of Margaret's face, Diana leaned down to look into the older woman's eyes. "The difference this time is that both of you are in love. And since the healer has enhanced the two of you, I expect you will both continue to look younger as time goes along. You have another chance, and another chance to have kids, too."

Thinking a moment, Diana continued, "Since you're so concerned, and obviously Frank knows why you wouldn't marry him before, why not sit down and rationally discuss it? He knows your fears, but spell them out, and make a plan to make certain that you continue to respect each other. With both of you working toward alleviating your fears, how could you go wrong?"

Diana pulled up a chair and sat beside Margaret, who picked at her chipped fingernail polish. Finally, she sighed. "I know that you're right. And we have talked. I know I've got to put this behind me. But I just can't think about losing him. He's the only man that I've ever really wanted to be with. I miss him when I not right beside him. And he claims that he does me." Looking around the table at the sympathetic faces looking back at her, she said, "Whether it works or not, I know that I have the best possible people with me to support me. But he floored me when he said he wanted to put his baby inside me. I think I almost fainted," she finished, smiling.

Their conversation broke up as Jeff and Frank pulled up on the ATV's. When the men walked inside, Frank went immediately to Margaret and kissed her.

"How are Carla and her helpers doing?" Diana said, smiling at Jeff.

Jeff got a cup, but before he could get to the coffee, Ann had the pot in her hand. He sat down, and she poured, then gently stroked his shoulder.

Jeff caressed her hand, then answered his first wife. "Carla and Jessica cut hay all morning. Now, they're both bailing with one of Dave and Evie's people moving the round bales to a little ridge not too far from where the new barn will be. Fred and another of the crew are gathering corn — if that's the correct term — and the other two people from the crew are pulling trailers alongside the combines to catch the corn as it's harvested. When a trailer is filled, the operator shifts his feed to the combine's bin while the trailer is unloaded. The equipment hardly ever stops."

Looking around the table, he continued, "After we get a couple more combines tomorrow, they should really make a dent in that field." If he expected reactions out of his wives, he didn't get it, because they had already heard Carla and Jessica discussing the best way to get the most of each crop before the rains got here.

"Are Dave and Evie working with the crew again?" Helen asked.

"No," Jeff laughed. "I suspect they're over at the Thompson's putting some earnest money down on their farm. They came to me wanting the corporation to buy it and add it to Carla and Jessica's place. Then again, I did tell them to run it by Carla and Jessica, to see what they said, but I suspect the place is going to be bought, regardless."

"And why are you grinning like the Cheshire cat, Frank?" Diana said, fighting a grin of her own.

Frank chuckled, pushing his chair back on two legs. "Remember that picture of the old ugly couple standing on a farm, the guy holding a pitchfork. The epitome of absolute ugly. Well, I just thought of Jeff's version of that. Jeff standing with a pitchfork with all his beautiful wives clustered around, and in the background, thousands of the most modern farming equipment you could imagine, with this hi-tech, futuristic barn about a mile long..."

"Alright, alright. I get the picture," Jeff interrupted. "At least I admit that I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just going to keep providing the money and let the people who do know what they're doing go with it."

When the women were through teasing him, he asked, "Isn't it about time for us to get out of Carla's hair and back to our place?"

Diana winked at her husband. "Don't you have a farm to look at? Or have you already done that?"

"I'm trying to leave it to Evie and Dave. But I imagine that I'll be out there sometime tomorrow. But I want Dave to handle this."

The girls got up to clean the coffee cups. Everything else had already been cleaned and put away. Turning to her mother, Arlene asked, "Mom, don't you think we should cook supper for Carla? Every time I've been outside today, she and Jessica have been on that equipment in the field. It's a shame to think about them having to come in tired and then still have to cook for Fred."

"Why don't we just run into town and get them pizza? I know Fred loves it, and I'll bet Carla and Jessica would think it was wonderful, compared to having to cook," Jeff interjected.

"Sounds like a plan," seven females chorused.

-------

Fred, Carla and Jessica parked their equipment alongside the others. After the crew left, the three walked toward the house as the stars came out, the wind gusting.

Looking toward the heavens, where there were a few scattered clouds, Carla said, "Oh, I hope it doesn't rain. We'll never get it all anyway, but I want to get as much as I can of everything... What the heck is that?" she stopped and asked, looking up the driveway in the distance where she saw lights coming over the hill.

"I don't know," Fred said. "But it looks big."

Two trucks eased down the driveway, heavily loaded.

As they approached the house, Jessica exclaimed, "Combines. Those are the John Deere trucks again."

They had reached the back yard by the time that the trucks got to the house. Fred leaned against the hitching rail and chuckled. "Looks like Jeff escaped with his debit card again. You gals might just have to reassess how much of your crops you're going to be able to harvest before the rains come," he said waving toward the driver of the lead truck as its lights washed over them. "Put them over by the others," he yelled over the sound of the diesel engines.

Turning back to the women, who seemed unable to say anything, he said, "Why don't you two go on in and clean up," his voice trailing off as he realized that there were several other heads for the combines on the trucks. As he turned to follow the first two trucks, he realized that there was another truck that had just topped the hill, but he couldn't tell in the poor light just what its load was. The women were still rooted in place, now looking at the third truck as it came down the long driveway.

Pushing gently on their shoulders, he said, again, "Go on in and get cleaned up. I'll take care of this."



-------

Chapter 37

After the trucks had gone, Fred returned to the house, took a quick shower and sat talking to the excited women. Carla and Jessica had waited for him to eat the pizza that Diana had bought. "I don't know any more about this than you two do," he said for the second time. "I imagine that Jeff, or Dave, or maybe some of Dave's people, decided that you weren't going to get all your crops in with the equipment you have, er, had. And Jeff bought a couple more combines and attachments. Hell, they must have bought out the store. There are more cultivating and planting equipment, as well, and another baler and mower."

"But why would he do this?" Carla asked as she refused another piece of pizza that Jessica offered.

"You had better eat that," Fred admonished. "Two little pieces of pizza won't keep up your strength with what you've done today, not to mention doing it again tomorrow."

"But, we don't have people to operate the new equipment..."

Fred laughed, his mouth full. Swallowing, he said, "Jeff, Dave and Evie will take care of that. There's no telling how many people will show up here tomorrow."

Jessica put two more pieces of pizza on Carla's plate. "Eat, Mom. You're going to worry yourself sick about the money Mr. Matthews is spending."

Absently, Carla picked up a piece of the pizza and took a bite. "But he's spending so much money, it will take years to make a profit..."

Fred took a long drink of coke, almost draining the glass. He hadn't realized that he was that thirsty until the cold liquid hit his taste buds. As he set the empty glass down and reached for the two-liter bottle for a refill, he said, "Don't worry about the money end of it. Let Jeff and the accountant do that. I don't see where he's going, either, but Jeff has amazed me time and again."

After pouring the drink, he offered Jessica more. When her glass was full, he set the bottle down and continued, "I went with him once when he talked to the police chief at Macon. The chief was barely civil to him at first, and had only seen Jeff because of the insistence of a mutual acquaintance. Jeff and I walked into this guy's office, and five minutes later, you would have thought that they were old friends. Jeff had catalogues with everything from guns to clothing in them. He walked away with a big order, and it could have been a bigger order, except he told the chief that he couldn't get him good prices on a couple of things that the chief wanted. Jeff also sold him some things that he could get at clearance prices, and passed a big savings on to the chief, who obviously knew what he was getting."

Stopping to swallow another bite of pizza, Fred continued, "Jeff makes friends — real friends. He does them favors, and they do him favors in return. With his sideline business, the favor was usually just the customer passing on a good word to another chief, purchasing agent, or a mayor. Sometimes, he made a killing on stuff; other times, he broke even, but helped a friend. He doesn't even seem to try, and like the old saying, he can sell refrigerators to Eskimos."

Fred took another bite, then said, "Part of it is that he's honest, and somehow he seems to project that. People just tend to do what he suggests."

"But surely he couldn't have made enough money as a salesman to afford that... whatever it is they live in. I thought they said something about an invention."

"He did sell an invention to Mr. Wainwright's company," Fred said, unconsciously waving his piece of pizza to make his point. "Jeff started an electrical engineering company which kept him away from home a lot of the time. He just did his selling mostly when he was home, other than orders that he took on his cell phone wherever he was. All I know about his company is that he helped build new products. Then again, I think he did some selling while he was away, as well, because he's commented on police chiefs in various states."

"But how could he have enough money to spend all this on a couple of strangers?" Jessica asked.

"Well, he has bought an Expedition for himself, an Escalade each for his assistant, teacher and his project manager. Also, he has a new Dodge pickup with a snowplow attachment. He's built a range and has expanded their bedroom suite, plus some other things that are currently going on. Diana said they hadn't even spent the investment earnings that were coming in. Also Jeff is supposed to get a lot of money from royalties when Wainwright produces Jeff's invention."

"Uh, Mom," Jessica said. "I overheard Ann and Jennie talking. I may have heard wrong, but I thought they said something about Jeff making twenty million dollars yesterday. I decided that they were just teasing, and didn't say anything about it, because I just assumed that it couldn't have been that much. I..."

Fred eyed another piece of pizza, but decided that he didn't need it if he was going to continue to lose weight. Quietly sighing, he turned to Jessica, instead, "I suspect that was royalty on his invention. I heard Wainwright kidding him about something to do with money. Seriously, you two need to forget about worrying about Jeff's money. Just get a receipt for everything you buy, like the accountant said, and meet with him once a week until he tells you differently."

Carla finished her last bite and took a swallow of her coke. "Fred, like I said, we planted most of our crops late, but even so, some of it has been too long in the field. A good bit of it will be on the ground. Oh, not the corn, the timing is perfect for it, but the other crops. We're going to have a lot of hay, but it's way past its prime. I'll only get maybe half the wheat, and if I'm lucky, two-thirds of the soybeans. They've just been in the fields too long.

"We usually sell a large portion of the crops, since we didn't have the storage capacity, as we've already discussed. Even if I buy calves that were born this spring, it will be late next year before I can sell any of them. Of course with all we're going to put in the silos, I'll have to buy very little for feed, just some syrup, supplement, and such to mix with the feed."

She took a sip of her drink and thought for a moment. "Still, it bothers me that he's throwing hundreds of thousands of dollars into this place. Usually, we time our plantings so that one crop comes in right after the other. All the extra equipment won't really be needed next year..."

Fred reached over and put his hand on Carla's for a moment. "Never think that Jeff is stupid..."

"I didn't mean..." Carla tried to break in.

"... I know you didn't. And I know that Jeff knows nothing about farming, but when he sets his mind to something, it has a way of working out. And there's power behind the throne," he said, a sparkle in his eye as he looked at the women. "Diana is a force all her own, and in case you haven't noticed," he laughed, "she's one hundred percent behind helping you get your farm going again."

"I still feel bad about them spending all day and all night fixing meals for those workers that Dave and Evie brought in for a second shift, not to say anything about the silo crews, and all the food that she bought." She sighed and pushed her place back. "I've always tried to help people, but it makes me feel... well, I don't know. It makes me feel different being on the receiving end." She sat for a moment, then continued, "I guess we had just given up hope. We were going to move in with my sister in Denver until we could get on our feet again."

They sat talking for a few minutes before Fred excused himself to make a call. A little later, he was almost back to the kitchen when he overheard Carla and Jessica talking. Just before he stepped through the doorway, Jessica said, "Yeah, I know Mom. We're way beyond just lucky to get our farm back. Heck we've got more cash money than I've ever seen, and a checkbook setting on the table with a balance that's unbelievable, but I miss Molly. I would give anything to get my horse back, and I know you feel the same way about Abby..."

Fred stopped, listening.

Carla broke in with, "Baby, I still cry about losing her, and I know you do for Molly, but Mr. Hodkin told us he would have to sell them. He couldn't keep that much money tied up. We haven't seen either of them in the pasture for months. They're gone. Jeff replaced our ATV's. We can move our cattle with them — when we buy the cattle, that is. Those two cutting horses worked better for us than the ATV's will, but that's all we have. You know that Mr. Hodkin carried the horses to the sale. No telling where they wound up. We'll never see them again," Carla choked out.

"Uh, I don't think that was Jeff that bought the ATV's. Ann told me that Mr. Wainwright bought them."

Carla put the last of the few dishes in, poured soap powder in the dishwasher, closed the door and turned it on. Turning to her daughter, wiping tears, she asked, "Why would he do that? I didn't get the impression that he had anything to do with the Matthews' corporation. He didn't act like it at the bank."

Jessica finished cleaning the sink and put the scrubber on the back rim. "I think he just did it. I don't know why."

"Oh, crap. We've got someone else to tell thank you. And with all the money they've spent, thank you just doesn't seem like enough. Mr. Wainwright didn't even say anything."

Fred turned and very quietly walked back down the hall, thinking. He closed the door to his room a little louder than necessary and returned to the kitchen. As he came through the doorway, the women smiled at him as they sat at the table.

"We've got fresh coffee on. It will be ready in a minute," Jessica said.

"Uh, thanks, but maybe later," he answered, then turning to Carla, said, "I hate to ask this, but I've got an errand to run and I don't have a vehicle with me. Would you mind if I borrowed your pickup for a little while?"

Carla looked up at him as he stood near the table. "Of course not. The keys are in it, and I think there's about a half tank of gas."

"Okay, great," Fred answered walking toward the door. "I should be back by bedtime, but if I'm not, six in the morning, right?"

"Yeah, that would be great Fred, and again, thanks for helping us. We would never..."

Fred stopped for a moment, turning back to the women. "Bullshit. You would have gotten it done. It would have just taken a little longer. And remember. I'm having a ball. See you in a little while," he finished, going on out the screen door, headed for Carla's pickup.

A few minutes later, about five miles down the road, Fred slowed as he tried to see the next mailbox under the truck headlights. I know I saw a mailbox with Hodkin on the side of it. There was a little wooden statue of a horse on top of it. The horse had its tail arched and looked like it was prancing. There it is. This has got to be the place.

Turning into the long gravel drive, he made his way toward the house, barely seen in the distance. Ah, they still have lights on. Farmers and ranchers tend to go to bed early because they have to get up so early, but there are still lights on in the house.

As he turned in, the yard lights came on before the truck stopped. Getting out of the vehicle, he hesitated as a Black and Tan hound bayed and came streaking toward him. Fred stood rock still. I've never seen a hound that would bite — well other than a biscuit, as they say — but this fucker is moving, he thought, as the hound came barreling up, slid to a halt, sat down and offered his left paw.

Laughing, Fred reached down and shook with the dog, who immediately began bouncing around like he was on springs.

"Never could teach the damn dog to shake with his right hand," a voice said from the porch. "He's got more energy than a Jack Russell terrier. I keep telling him that hounds are supposed to be lazy, but I can't keep him still long enough to do any good," a male voice said, chuckling.

The porch light came on and Fred was able to get a better look at the owner of the voice. A big man, about sixty, gray haired, wearing well-worn jeans, western boots, and a pullover shirt, walked down the short steps, then over to Fred. Putting out his hand he said, "I'm Ray Hodkin. What can I do for you?"

They shook hands, then Fred said, "Mr. Hodkin, I guess it's a long story. It concerns Carla Chalmers and a couple of horses that you bought from her. I've been helping Carla and Jessica out at their place and..."

"Whoa. Hold that thought a minute. Allison will kick my butt if I leave a visitor standing in the yard talking. Come on in and let's get something to drink in front of us first."

Later as the three sat at the living room after Fred finished bringing Ray and Allison up to date about Carla, the rancher looked over at his wife and a silent communication happened. Leaning back a little, Hodkin looked at Fred, "So you came looking to find out if I knew where their horses were?"

Sighing, Fred said, "Yeah, I heard them say that you were going to carry the horses to the sale, but I was hoping that you might know the person who bought them. If I can, I'm going to try to buy them back for those two. They've had enough bad things to happen to them. When I heard them say that they still cried for their horses, well, it was all I could do to not bawl with them. I've got a little money put back..."

"They're standing out in the corral behind the barn," Hodkin said, grinning at his wife who was grinning bigger than he was.

Fred just looked at them. As he started to ask, Allison picked up the conversation, "We bought twenty-eight horses from Carla — all that she had. We kept Molly and Abby, plus ten of the best mares. Eight of the ten are pregnant now. But we didn't breed their two cutting horses."

"Would you..." Fred started to say.

"That damned banker has foreclosed on other folks besides Carla. We kept those horses in case she ever got on her feet again. I'd give them back to her if I could, but our money is tight, too. But we will sell them to Carla for the same thing that we paid her for them. In a few months, she'll have eight more additions, and if you leave the other two mares with us for a while, old Dan will take care of them the next time they come in heat."

"How much," Fred said, pulling out his checkbook.

"Whoa, Mister," Hodkin said. "I said I would sell them to Carla. In all due respect, all I know about you is what you told me..."

Fred sat back and laughed, "Can't blame you there. How 'bout you make out the bill of sale to Carla, and deliver Molly and Abby tomorrow morning. I suspect those two horses can get by just fine in this weather without a barn, and I think they will brighten a couple of people's lives. If you will, I'll pay you to board the others until the barn is built, or until Carla says she's ready to get the others back. I, of course, will pay the delivery fee, but I would like to surprise those two women."

Standing, Allison said, "Hold on and I'll get the paperwork on the horses."

A little later, when Fred saw the total, he had to take a deep breath. "Uh, I need to make a transfer from my savings to checking. It's supposed to be automatic to shift it if I write a check for more than is in my checking, but I don't want to risk it."

"Best use our landline," Hodkin said, as Fred opened his cell. "Reception is spotty unless you're up near the highway."

"I appreciate it," Fred said, closing his phone. "It's an eight hundred number."

When Allison handed Fred their phone, he dialed, then checked his checking account balance. Then checked it again. He absently pushed the "Off" button on the portable phone, setting it on the coffee table in front of him.

Allison Hodkin set a cup of coffee in front of Fred. Seeing the look on his face, she glanced at her husband. "Mr. Wilson, we can probably work with you if you're a little short..."

Fred mentally shook himself. "Uh, no. That won't be necessary, but I appreciate it. I won't have to transfer anything from savings after all. There was a deposit that I wasn't considering," he finished.

A little after the check was written and all the paperwork was done, Hodkin stood and said, "Want to see what you just bought?"

"Yeah," Fred laughed, thinking that the horses cost more than he was expecting — much more. But Hodkin had the original paperwork. He wasn't making a dime.

"Come on, let's go out the back. We've got plenty of lights in the corral. The kids used to practice barrel racing out there after the day's work was done. They won several trophies, too," he finished, proudly, motioning for Fred to follow him.

After walking through a large barn, they stepped on the bottom rail of the corral to look over the fence. Allison stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled loud enough to wake the dead. Two beautifully matched sorrel quarter horses with a blaze on their foreheads came out of the darkness toward the light. When they neared, Allison stepped though the gate. She hugged both horses' necks, then gently rubbed their noses and talked to them.

"I'll be the first to say that I don't know much about horses. I've only ridden a couple of times in my adult life, although I had a Tennessee Walker when I was a kid. But these two are beautiful."

"The others are damn near as good. Like I said, I kept the best ten, plus these. This will give her twelve to start back with. She knows that she can use my stud when she needs to have any of her mares bred. Sam helped me out when I broke my leg. I finally got my chance to return the favor. 'Course that check of yours is going to make things a little easier around here. I hated that I had to sell the others... There won't be a delivery charge if you're going to surprise those women, but Allison and I want to be there when they see these two."

"Good," Fred said, "that's as it should be after all you two have done. Here's what I think we should do..."

-------

A little later, Fred stopped just after turning into Carla's driveway and called Jeff. After Fred explained what was happening, Jeff replied, "Well, old buddy, sounds like there are going to be two very happy women tomorrow, but we're going to have to pass on being there for two reasons. Number one, you're doing this, and we're not going to take any of the fun out of it for you. And number two, the girls have been making a DVD that they want to put into the Escalade that Bill and Kathy left at the airport. It's a little welcome surprise for Linda. They also want to pick up some things for Kathy and Linda."

"Well, I guess that makes sense. That little girl is going through hell right now with her parents splitting up," Fred answered. "Still, I wish you could be here to see Carla and Jessica when they first see their horses."

"Yeah, I'll bet that will be something. Uh, Fred, I don't mean to pry, but twelve horses are bound to cost a lot of money... The corporation could buy..."

"I want to do this, Jeff. And I've got plenty of money, particularly since there has been a large deposit that suddenly appeared," Fred said, his voice changing, "and I haven't got anything to spend what I do have on, let alone this extra."

"Well, yeah. Diana got in touch with the accountant. We told you that we were going to put you on the payroll..."

"So I get paid in advance for doing nothing..."

"Whoa, now Fred. Don't get your panties in a wad. Your input for the fortress is invaluable, and you're working on the corporation's farm..."

"Okay," Fred said. "We'll argue about this later. But this isn't over yet. And about me spending money on those two, I don't have any expenses, thanks to you two. Hell, you're even paying for my food, where else am I going to spend my money. I'll be living back at your place soon, and that doesn't cost me a dime." And you would shit if you knew how much those horses really did cost,  Fred finished in his mind.

"What about your RV?"

"I've talked to the dealer and made arrangements with him. I've got an idea about that, but I don't have all the details yet. Might work out. But I'll talk it over with you when I know more."

"Okay, we'll see you over the weekend... Diana and everybody just said to tell you, 'Hi, '" Jeff said, the cringe obvious in his voice, since they all said it at the same time.

Fred laughed, told Jeff that he would talk to him later, and hung up.

Fred sat in the truck, thinking. Well, Brenda, my life is changing. I still don't know how I'm ever going to make it without you, but in the mean time, I'm going to help those two women put their life back together. I can personally sympathize with Carla about losing her spouse — big-time. I... 

Lover, I'm proud of you,  Brenda's voice in his mind seemed to say so suddenly that he jerked.

Gripping the steering wheel hard, he thought, Crap, now I'm talking to myself. I need to get my fat butt in bed. He started the truck and drove on toward the house.

-------

At four, Fred quietly got up, made a trip to the bathroom, and dressed in shorts, tee shirt, and running shoes. Making as little noise as possible, he went out the front, briskly walked out the drive for a block or so, then began his jog. The hill was a bitch, but he got halfway to the top before he had to walk, then continued on to the pavement before retracing his steps. He figured it was a mile and a half, maybe a little more, for his little trip, but he only had to walk four times, other than the steepest part of the hill. At the house, he forced himself to do two sets of fifteen pushups each, then on the porch, he struggled through ten sit-ups, twice. Waiting for his breathing to return to near normal, he went back to his bedroom to shower.

Hearing water running in Carla's bedroom, he gradually adjusted his shower, hoping to keep from making any sudden temperature changes in the other shower. The hot water felt good to his pumped calf muscles. Afterwards, he dressed and met the women in the kitchen.

Jessica looked over at Fred's smiling face as he headed for the coffee pot. "You look like you're in a good mood this morning," she said as she slid a pound of bacon into a large skillet.

Fred stopped and looked at the bacon. "Who are you cooking all that bacon for?"

"Well, four pieces are for Mom and me. The rest is yours, of course."

Fred laughed. "I guess we can have BLT's in our lunch, then. I sure don't need all that."

"Yes, you do," Carla broke in. "You're going to be working all day."

"Working," Fred repeated. "Heck, woman, I'm doing the same thing you are. How come, I need all that food when you don't?"

"Because you're a man," Carla exclaimed, as if it were obvious.

"I'm trying to lose weight," Fred teased, "and it sure doesn't take much energy to run that combine, but that bacon sure smells good."

"How many times did you climb up and down that ladder to get in and out of that cab?" Carla asked.

"A bunch," Fred said, laughing.

"I rest my case," Carla said, turning back to her cooking.

"Okay, okay, but I still say you're going to fatten me up more," he said, sitting down at the table.

"What's this 'fat' we keep hearing you talk about? You're a little heavy, but you darn sure aren't fat," Carla said, pulling a tray of biscuits out of the oven to butter their tops. "And besides, you need some new clothes. Diana told me to measure you, and I forgot last night. That belt makes me smile every time I look at it with those extra holes and it wrapped halfway back around you."

Fred looked down at himself. What in the heck has happened to me? The weight is falling off me. Is there something wrong with me? I feel great. Does Jeff sneaking into my room two nights running have anything to do with this? I feel better than I have in years. I'm pissing every thirty minutes like a Russian racehorse. Something is happening. Has he invented something else? He and I are going to have a talk.

"Yeah, I guess I do need to cut off the excess," he acknowledged tucking the extra length of the belt in a loop on his side.

"Stand up," Jessica said, as she pulled a measuring tape out of a kitchen drawer.

"No need in that," Fred tried to say, but Jessica stopped next to him and motioned for him to get up. She reached around his waist, took the measurement, then goosed him. Fred jumped, then grabbed for her, but she moved out of the way giggling. Fred realized that he was laughing.

"The length is thirty-two inches, and you're not going to measure that," he teased.

Jessica rolled her lip out pretending to be pouting. "Ah, you take all the fun out of it."

"You've already seen me jump about a foot straight up," Fred said sitting back down. "You're not going to get a second chance this morning," he said, laughing.

"What size is that shirt?" Jessica asked.

"Double X. And it's just fine."

"It's hanging on you," Carla interjected, putting a platter of biscuits on the table.

Jessica measured his neck, then put the tape around his neck and pretended it was a hangman's noose. After measuring across his shoulders, and the length of his sleeves, she wrote everything down, then went back to helping her mother.

Carla broke eggs into a bowl and starting scrambling them, "We'll call Diana just before we leave for the fields. She said that they would be eating by six. I thought that you would protest a little more about her buying you some clothes."

Fred laughed. "Arguing with Diana when she's made up her mind to help, is right next to useless. I might as well save my breath," he finished.

Later they stood in the yard watching a line of vehicles coming down the drive. Fred put a hand on Carla's shoulder. "Looks like you're going to spend more time supervising today, Boss," he laughed as they watched their new help coming. "I see that Eugene is already standing over there waiting for me," he said pointing to where one of the tractors and grain trailer were standing. "We're going to get back to it..."

"Wait a minute," Carla interrupted. "Eugene said he had run a picker before, so put him on the new combine. Most anyone can drive a tractor and pull a trailer alongside you to catch the grain. He never slacked up yesterday. Check him out on the new combine, please, and I'll get the other new people started. I'll send one of them to pull the grain trailer for you."

"Mom, Manuel did a good job moving the bales for us yesterday. He almost kept up with us even with two balers running. He could be moving the rest of them to the ridge while we're mowing. I watched him and he took care of the tractor, and he's careful with the big bales."

"Yeah, I noticed. We'll do that."

Carla motioned for Manuel as he got out of his pickup, and their day began.

-------

The Matthews family with Dave, Evie, Frank and Margaret, ate breakfast with the usual bantering and talk. "And what are you two doing today?" Jeff asked, looking at Dave and Evie.

"Well, Boss, we thought we would go back to bed for awhile. I didn't get much sleep last night..."

"Dave," Evie exclaimed, trying unsuccessfully to pinch him, her face turning red. "You did, too."

"When?" he asked, innocently. Well, he tried to sound innocent.

When the laughter died down, Diana added, "Wait until you see the new dress Evie is going to buy, Dave. With that mini dress, and a matching pair of four-inch spikes, a night of dancing and a beautiful hotel room, well, maybe you should rent the room for two nights. You might not be able to drive back the next day," Diana teased.

"Be worth it," Dave said, gently rubbing his wife's cheek with the back of his hand.

Then, "Uh, I guess Evie is going to get back on the classrooms, and the welders are going to start on the indoor range. I'm going to check on Carla and Fred, then make sure the foundations are finished up for the next silos. After that, I'm going to make sure that everything is set for the delivery and installation for the other three silos, Monday. Oh, and we sent some more people down to Carla this morning."

"Good," Jeff answered. Then looking at his wives, he continued, "The girls were up late last night making a welcome video for Linda. Helen," he said, nodding to his newest wife, "has made it a school media project. It was well after one when my youngest wives got in bed. I haven't seen it yet, but they say it's done."

Glancing at Diana, he continued, "I'm also told that we have a shopping trip today, and that they're going to put the video in the Escalade at the airport, so Linda can watch it on the way up here."

"We've got a list of things that we want to get for Linda and Kathy. We didn't get to do anything special for Kathy last week, so we're going to get both of them something this time."

Margaret sat her cup down. "That would be sweet to do that. Linda is probably wondering about meeting all of you..."

"Yeah," Jeff said. "I wonder what Bill has told her about us. How do you say that we're going to spend the weekend with a guy who has seven wives?" he asked. "I mean, I wonder what he did tell her."

"The truth," Wainwright said. "Bill told me that he was concerned, but that he and Kathy had discussed it. He said that they were going to try and explain as best they could, but I know that he was still worried. He isn't uncomfortable with your multiple marriage, but I think he's about scared spitless to try and explain it to his daughter," he finished, chuckling.



-------

Chapter 38


At eleven-thirty, Fred shut his equipment down and told Mullins that it was time for lunch. A few minutes later, he stopped his ATV in the hay field and waved to the women. When Carla stuck her head out of the cab, he yelled, "Come on. We've got something to do."

Frowning as she got out of the tractor cab, Carla asked, "What's going on, Fred? I'm going to eat my lunch rolling. The more I get..."

"Hush, woman," he teased. "You know that I wouldn't stop unless it was important. Come on. Get on behind me. I'll carry you to your ride, then we'll get Jessica."

As she got on behind him, she continued, "Well, what's going on? I don't understand... Why didn't you just call me on the radio? We could have talked about it..."

Yeah,  Fred thought. Exactly. And I don't want to talk about it with you. I want you to go with me to the house.

Jessica had already figured out that something was going on and was headed their way. Fred dropped Carla off at her ATV, then both of them headed toward Jessica. "Get on," Fred said as he pulled alongside her tractor. "You can ride with me. We've got something to do."

She had more questions than Carla, but Fred ignored her. He deliberately drove at an angle toward the house so the trees and the house would block their view as they drove up. He managed to get within a hundred yards of the house before he heard Jessica's, "Oh, shit." Then, "That's Molly!"

He figured that Carla had seen the horses tied to the rail by the picnic tables at the same time that Jessica did, for her ATV suddenly roared as she opened the throttle. Fred sped up, but didn't even make an attempt to keep up. He wondered if she were going to scare the horses to death, but she slowed down before she pulled into the yard.

Jessica must have asked ten times, over and over, "Where did our horses come from? Where did our horses come from..." as they drove into the yard. Jessica stumbled and almost fell as she jumped off the four-wheeler before Fred was completely stopped.

The horses whinnied when they saw the women, and tried to pull free of the hitching rail. Both made a chuffing sound when they couldn't get loose, then nickered as Carla and Jessica ran up and threw their arms around Abby and Molly, the women almost sobbing with joy and not even realizing it.

Ray and Allison Hodkin walked up, not noticed by the mother and daughter. "I am so thankful that we managed to keep those horses and didn't have to sell them," Ray told Fred as the three of them stood watching the reunion.

Finally, things wound down a little and Carla looked around. Seeing Fred standing beside Ray and Allison, she put it together. "Jessica," she said, nodding toward the three. When Jessica looked, she quickly glanced back at her mother, then both women ducked under the hitching rail and started running the thirty feet or so toward Fred.

"Uh oh," he said, a look of panic crossing his face as he realized what was going to happen, just before they arrived.

Both of them hit him with bear hugs at the same time. Staggering back a couple of steps from the impact, he enveloped them in his arms as the Hodkins laughed at the women's antics. Before Fred was fully stable again, Carla put a hand behind his neck, pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him. It wasn't a little peck on the lips; it was a soul kiss. There was nothing bashful about it with a full frontal hug, and Carla's tongue that was happily exploring for his.

His dick responded with a mind of its own, thumping her in the stomach. — the first erection he had since Brenda died. He instantly felt guilty, but as soon as Carla let him go, Jessica tried to outdo her. She's got to feel my dick pressing against her,  Fred thought with some small portion of his mind — the rest of it was locked on Jessica's wonderful mouth and breasts as she tried to press them through him while chasing his tongue with hers.

When Jessica finally pulled away from him, she was nice enough to stand in front of him for a moment while he rearranged things, before she took her turn hugging the Hodkins, but the grin she had on her face wasn't all because she had just gotten her horse back.

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep all of them," Ray said. "We managed to keep your two cutting horses, and ten of the other mares, but I just couldn't..."

"Oh, Ray, what you two did is so wonderful. We hadn't seen any of the horses for a while, and we thought you had sold them."

"Oh, no. I just had to move them to the other pasture. That one was pretty much eaten down."

"About the others, I'll talk to Mr. Matthews. He said that his corporation..."

Ray put his hands on Carla's shoulders to stop her, then looked her in the eyes. "Carla, this fellow has already bought all twelve of them. They're in your name. We've got the bill of sale for all of them right here," he said, motioning to a manila folder that Allison carried. "We cashed his check this morning. We'll bring the rest of them over when you're ready for them."

Both women spun around to look at Fred again. "Oh, my God," Carla said, and grabbed Fred a second time. "Fred, you can't do this," she said, looking up into his face. "It's too much money. Just our horses would have been too much money, but all the rest... You hardly know us."

Jessica grabbed both her mom and Fred, laughing, tears still streaming. "He already did, Mom," she laughed, "He already did."

A few minutes later, Carla and Jessica hugged the Hodkins again, then Carla said, "Have you two eaten? Come on inside, it will only take a moment to get something going..."

Allison interrupted her, "Don't you dare," she laughed. "We'll gladly eat with you later. Right now you need to go for a ride and get reacquainted with your horses."

"Oh, we can't do that," Carla said, looking wistfully at Abby. "We'll ride them after we're done in the fields today. Come on in. At least have a cup of coffee with us. We want to tell you how much we appreciate what you two have done."

"Carla, we made it without the money. We both wish we could have kept the others. And, oh, yeah, we bred eight of the mares. Ol' Dan will probably take care of the other two in a few weeks. And before you even start, we would never charge you a stud fee. Now go ride your horses and we'll see you in a few days."

With Carla and Jessica protesting, the Hodkins got in their pickup and left pulling the empty horse trailer.



Note: For an example of what a cutting horse does on a ranch, you might try this link: http://www.nchacutting.com/

Then scroll down to the bottom of the page and watch the video, The Thrill of Cutting. Watching the cutting horses work the cattle will show more than I can ever explain — and obviously, there is a lot of training involved. Sitting that cutting horse while he is working isn't quite as easy as these professional riders make it look. You can move cattle with an ATV, but cutting one critter out of the herd is a different story. 



-------

It had been a hectic week for Captain Bill Madison. He could hardly believe his wife was doing this to him. He had never imagined that he would be getting a divorce — he had gotten married for life. He and Jill had been happily married, as far as he was concerned — at least until the last year or so. What had happened?

He finally managed to change lanes in the stalled lunch-hour traffic as they made their way to the airport. Linda looked over at him and grinned when they got to the airport turnoff. He had been to more meetings with lawyers in this one week than he had in his life, he guessed — not to say anything about the juvenile judge. Jill had really stuck her foot in her mouth with her comments about getting rid of the kid, not to say anything about being gone for two days without making any arrangements for Linda.

When Linda had called him saying her mother was gone and she (Linda) didn't know where she was, Madison cancelled the trip and came home, leaving three of Wainwright's people stranded in Seattle — with Tingle's permission. The vice-president told him to not even think about it, let alone worry about it. He would get them on a flight back when they needed to come. Jill came back home two days later, but wouldn't even talk to him about where she had been. Thank God for Frank Wainwright. He had called Tingle over the weekend and told him that his (Bill's) private life would take precedence over any flying for any reason, until further notice.

Bill had gone back over his credit card statements and found that Jill had been paying their insurance copay to a doctor's office about every two months. Odd (yeah, right) that she hadn't mentioned anything about being sick, but there had been six payments to the doctor over the last year — the same doctor that she had been seeing. Boy, did the lawyers' eyes light up with that revelation. They had served Jill with divorce papers.

Wainwright's lawyers had set up a meeting on Monday with Bill's divorce lawyer, and suddenly his case was top priority with her. The meeting with the juvenile judge happened after Bill had told his lawyer about Jill leaving while he was away on a flight, not making any arrangements for their daughter.

Madison had called Wainwright three times, as instructed, keeping him posted. Bill had offered to get another pilot to fill in for him until he could get something settled about his divorce and his daughter, but each time he had mentioned it, Frank had broken in before he could even finish. "Nobody sits in that captain's seat but you. Tell Kathy to relax, go shopping, and enjoy herself while you get your problems fixed. She's worked far too much with all the training and the extra flying, anyway. My people can fly commercial. Hell, I'm flying them first class; it's not as if they're hurting. When you don't have appointments, let Tingle know and you can make whatever trips fit in. Don't worry about it. And besides, you have way more vacation accumulated than you will ever use. This way you can burn some of it."

Then Bill started having problems with Linda. He had expected it. Her world was coming apart, and of course, some idiot just had to redistrict the schools this year. And naturally, Linda hated her new school. She knew practically nobody; she missed her friends; her mother was acting like a slut; and "nobody" wanted her.

At home one afternoon, he held her while they sat side by side on the couch as she cried, telling her he felt about the same way. She finally sniffed and sat back as he continued assuring her that he would never stop loving her.

"I'm sorry Dad. I know that you love me. I just can't get over Mom acting this way." She sniffed again, wiped her eyes and blew her nose on an already soaked paper towel.

"Baby, I love you more than life itself. I always have, and I always will. I love your Mom the same way. I know that she has, uh..."

"... Screwed around on you," Linda said for him.

"Uh, yeah. But, even so, I guess I still love her. It makes me sick, and I mean that literally, to think about her with another man. And those conversations that you taped... They... tear me up inside, but there is still a little love left, even after all those things she said, and... did, I guess."

Linda suddenly grabbed him around the neck, hugging him hard. "Get me out of that awful school. There are some real... shits in the hallways. I'm really scared Dad. I've talked to two of the teachers, but they say they can't do anything for people just looking at me. The teachers just ignore what I say. Those, uh, people in the halls are calling me names because I've aced all those easy tests, and I don't even study much. They stand around me at my locker and tell me all the horrible things they're going to do to me."

Linda started crying again, this time harder. "I can't stand all of this together," she said in a voice that was scaring Bill.

Fuck it. We're going back to the lawyer's office in the morning. She said to check with her before I did anything. Well, my kid is going to stay with me, somehow, someway, until this is over. What the fuck is the matter with schools that we have to have police officers in them? Whatever happened to discipline? Teachers who won't even try to do something when a fifteen-year-old girl says she scared? This is ridiculous.

Now Friday was finally here and it was twelve-thirty. They were almost to the airport, and they were going to have a weekend with the Matthews. Crap, I still haven't talked to Linda about the Matthews' marriage. On top of everything that's going on, now she going to see something that's... different. Hell, if I didn't like these people, I would go screaming in the opposite direction, but all of them have been so nice to Kathy and me, that I know this will work out.

The girls aren't much older than Linda. We went to Atlanta to pick up Arlene's friends only a couple of months ago, when she turned sixteen. Of course, now those three friends are Arlene's (what did they call each other?) sister-wives. How am I supposed to tell my daughter about this? "Hey guess what, Linda. Jeff is fucking all seven of them." Yeah, that would really do it. But no matter how I word it, that's what is probably going to come across to her.

After we've reached altitude, I'll sit Linda down and tell her. Oh, shit, I dread this flight. Maybe I can get Kathy to tell her. Yeah, that would go over really well. Then she would think that her dad was too chickenshit to tell her himself. Well, I guess that's right. I am. But, I'm going to do it anyway.

As they got their bags out of the trunk, Bill tried to pick up Linda's as well. "How many are you going to carry, Dad? I'm a big girl now, in case you haven't noticed," she teased, standing up straight and pushing her chest out. Her chest didn't need any help.

"Linda, I can..." he started, embarrassed as his eyes unavoidably focused on her breasts in her tight top as his daughter teased him.

"Oh, Daddy. I'm almost sixteen. I've had boobs for three years now. Guys look at boobs. Even Daddy guys," she said, laughing for one of the few times this week.

"Yeah, I guess they do, sometimes, Kitten. But I embarrass myself when I do. I'm not..." he started, then remembered that Arlene was one of Jeff's wives.

"... A pervert? Is that what you were going to say? If you are, you're a sexy pervert," she giggled, pulling hers bags out and slamming the trunk down with an elbow.

Dumbfounded, he said, "Linda, that's not..."

"Oh, lighten up, Daddy. You said we were going to have a great weekend. I'm anxious to meet all these people you've told me about."

"I've told you about them?" Madison asked.

"Sure," she said as they started for the plane, looking over at him strangely, "You told me about picking up three of them and bringing them to Mr. Matthew's daughter's sixteenth birthday, remember? Then you told me about carrying everybody to Atlanta. You said there were four girls about my age or a little older."

"Oh, yeah. I did," Madison answered stupidly. Oh, crap where's my head? As soon as we're up, I'm going to talk to her. I've got to get this over with.

-------

When they reached altitude, Bill looked over at Kathy. "Uh, how about taking the controls. I'm going back and talk with my daughter about the Matthews', uh, marriage arrangements."

Kathy sputtered, "You haven't told her?"

"Uh, I guess I've been putting it off," he said, refusing to look her in the eye.

Kathy started giggling. "I can see that this is going to be a fun trip for you," she said clucking like a chicken. "Put it off a little while, didn't you?"

Bill stared at his copilot. She was having entirely too much fun out of this. He raised his voice a little and said, "Well, what am I supposed to do? Just walk up and say, 'Oh, by the way, Linda, this Jeff Matthews that we're going to visit for the weekend, has seven wives.'"

"What?" Linda said, her eyes round, having just stuck her head in the cockpit as Bill let out with his little joke.

"Oh, shit," Madison said, as Kathy gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth, then suddenly became deeply involved in studying the flight instruments.

"Let me come back there," Madison said, as he extracted himself from his seat, "and we'll discuss this."

Linda got a soft drink out of the refrigerator and stood waiting. Bill got a cup of coffee, fixed it, then sat down, motioning for Linda to sit near him. He sipped his coffee trying to come up with a way of getting out of the hole he had seemingly dug himself into. She was still staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Baby, uh, that didn't come out exactly right. I mean..."

"You mean, he doesn't have seven wives? Then why did you say it?"

"Uh, no. I mean, he does have seven wives, it's just not what you think..."

"Daddy, I don't understand what you mean. How could he have seven wives and it not be what I think?"

Madison crossed his legs, looking more uncomfortable by the minute as Linda continued to stare at him. "Look, we need to start this whole thing over again."

"Okay," Linda said, a grin starting to tickle the corners of her mouth as she realized how flustered her always self-assured father was becoming. "So we start back with Mr. Matthews? He has seven wives. How does he do that? I mean, isn't it illegal, or something? We've read where some of the Mormon religion used to do it. I know it happened on the frontier a couple of hundred years ago, mostly because everything was so sparsely settled and people couldn't get together, but that isn't done anymore. Right?"

"Well, yeah, that's right. But..."

"Then how can Mr. Matthews do it?"

"Baby, in this country, many people live together without having legally married. I mean, couples. That is, obtaining a license and having a formal wedding. Some states consider them legally married if they profess to be married and live together for a certain length of time, but unless something happens, they're generally just living together..."

"So Mr. Matthews is living with seven women. Is that what you meant?"

"Well, no..." Before Linda could say anything else, he hurried on. "Last Friday night, Kathy and I were invited to their wedding. Uh, when they married their seventh wife, I guess you could say."

"Wait," he said, as Linda's frustration bubbled over and she started to interrupt. "They had a very beautiful wedding — all of them, as Jeff married their teacher."

"Their teacher? Why do they have a teacher? What does she teach?" Linda broke in despite Bill's best efforts.

"Uh, they have a school for the girls, in their home — the retreat."

"And he married their teacher? Neat. What do you mean 'retreat?' Do they own a resort or something?"

"Well, I hadn't looked at it that way, but that's close. The retreat used to be owned by Mr. Wainwright's company. Mr. Matthews bought it, or well, I think it was part of a package deal when Mr. Matthews sold his invention to Wainwright, Inc. I've mentioned the retreat before when I flew people from the company there."

"So he's married to seven women and lives in this retreat — the one that used to belong to Mr. Wainwright's company. Wow. Tell me about his wives," she said, her enthusiasm going up.

"Oh, shit," he sighed. Then, "The three girls, just a little older than you, are three of his wives..."

"What? Daddy, you're not kidding me are you? Who are the others?"

"Well, his original wife, Diana, his assistant, uh, Laura, and their teacher, Helen..."

"That's six," Linda said after a second. "Who's the other one?"

Bill took a deep breath, then despite himself, looked away from her eyes, "His daughter," he got out, but his voice didn't sound right.

"Oh, shit," Linda quietly said.

"Baby, you shouldn't..."

"Daddeee," she drew out because of his admonishment, then went on. "He's married to his daughter?"

"Oh, shit," he unconsciously mimicked his daughter, "I knew this was a bad idea."

"Why is it a bad idea?" Linda said. "I think this is great. Just wait until my friends... Well, crap. I don't get to see my friends much any more."

Bill strengthened his voice and looked his daughter in the eyes. "Baby, we need to understand something. You can never tell this to anyone. It would cause the Matthews a lot of problems, and in the end, probably nothing would change except they would hate us."

Taking her hand for a second, he continued, "These are really, really nice people we're talking about. When they fly with us, they treat Kathy and me like one of them. They're ultra rich, but they don't act like it. Most of the people we fly — and they're good people — just get on the plane and wait for me and my crew to load the luggage." He smiled for a moment, "Well, my crew consists of only Kathy now, since we don't have a flight attendant at the moment. But the point being, the Matthews insist on helping load and unload, and they don't make a big deal out of it. They just act like it's the natural scheme of things. They even cooked some meals for us in the microwave."

Bill leaned back and took a sip of coffee, somewhat calmer now, "When Kathy and I spent the weekend with them, they treated us like family. They loaned us their Escalade, Saturday and Sunday, to visit Winter Park and then the Rockies. Heck, they insisted that I drive Laura's brand new Escalade to the airport and leave it there, so we would have a vehicle to drive when we get in today. They even told me to pay for the parking with the credit card in the glove compartment. Baby they're nice people. Please promise me right now that you will never mention their marriage to anyone. In addition to hurting them, it would probably mean my job, as well."

"Oh, okay," she said, now serious, "I promise... I didn't think. It's just so..." Her eyes got big, again. "Seven. How does... uh, I mean, I've talked to girls that did it..." Suddenly, she burst into tears.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Bill said, trying to take her into his arms. "I'm sorry if I've upset you. Maybe this trip wasn't a good idea, after all. But I had to pick up Mr. Wainwright and Margaret, and I thought you might like to spend the weekend at the retreat. The Matthews invited you..."

"Oh, Daddy, it's not you."

Madison got up and got his daughter a tissue. "What's wrong? I know that the thing with the Matthews is a shock, but somehow I didn't think it would upset you so much."

"It's not that, either," Linda said, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue, "It's just... Oh, crap, Daddy, it's just that I can't talk to you about the things I want to know."

"Why not, Kitten, we've always talked? You can..."

Just as Madison started to speak, Kathy announced on the PA: "WE'VE GOT A BUMPY RIDE FOR A WHILE, CAPTAIN. BETTER BUCKLE UP."

Linda, having flown with her dad since she was a baby, snapped her belt with little conscious thought. Madison went back to the coffee maker, put the plastic cap on his cup and returned. He closed his belt and started to ask again, when Linda continued, "Oh, Daddy, I can't talk to you about sex, and Momma always handed me a book when I asked. I know all about what's in the book. We had it in school. The books they gave us were either so childishly written with cute little pictures like you would show a four-year-old where a baby comes from, or were so technical (The penis is inserted into the vagina... ) that it didn't tell me what I wanted to know."

"Well, Baby, uh, you're right. I'm not the one to answer your questions..."

"Then who am I going to ask? I've heard the girls talking, of course. Heck, I'm about the only virgin left in my class — well, my old class. I don't know anything about the people in my new school. Now I'm wondering about the Matthews, and I can't even ask anyone. My mother is supposed to tell me these things. What have I done to make her run off and leave me?" she sobbed.

Madison took both their belts off, pulled her to his lap, then refastened his belt around the both of them. Holding his daughter, they cried together.

-------

When Jeff found Laura's Escalade and stopped alongside it at the airport, the girls piled out. Opening the door, Ann taped a printout on the dash telling Linda to start the DVD in the player at the second seat, then she turned the ignition on.

Arlene stood back and watched as Jennie and Melissa, both giggling and having a ball, put the DVD they had all made into the player and tested it, setting the volume and making sure the disk played properly. Everything set up, they turned the ignition off, relocked the vehicle and ran back to their SUV, all having a ball.

Piling in beside her dad, Arlene said, "Okay, Dad. Now we need to do some shopping. We want to make sure that Linda feels welcome, and we didn't get Kathy anything last time, so we'll take care of that now, and we won't forget Captain Madison. We've got a list of the things we want. Evie couldn't come, but she sent a list, too. She and Dave want to be part of this. We're going to have a ball."

They've already told me this twice,  Jeff mused to himself. If Linda doesn't feel welcome, it sure won't be the girls' fault. Smiling, he turned the Expedition toward the exit, Diana and the rest following in their vehicle. He knew why they had brought both vehicles — they would need the room for packages — guaranteed. He smiled as he looked in the mirror to make sure the rest of his harem was behind him. He would soon become a packhorse, carrying packages for the women. He would grumble — it was expected — but he would enjoy every minute of it.

They had only gone a few hundred feet when Jeff pulled to the side, Diana stopping behind him. He could see the questioning look on her face as he looked in the mirror.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Arlene asked as Jeff opened his door to get out.

"Not a thing. Not a thing," he answered, a look of almost glee on his face. "Everybody, stay in the car. I'll be right back."

Outside, he motioned for Diana. When she got out of her vehicle and walked up beside him, he nodded to a new private hangar that was under construction a couple of hundred yards away.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Diana, looking perplexed for a second, started to ask something, but stopped, her face breaking into a smile, the smile broadening. "Damned straight," she said, trying to copy one of his favorite expressions. Laughing, she grabbed his neck, pulling herself up so that she could kiss him, then took off for her vehicle, giggling like the teenager that she appeared to be.

Well, I guess she approves, Jeff thought, his mood becoming even better as he got back into his Expedition to a barrage of questions.

-------

Fred made his turn at the near end of the corn field. His buddy for the day, Mullins, maneuvered to get back side-by-side as they lined up to make their return pass. Just as Fred put power to the heads, Mullins motioned to him and pointed. In the distance, the two quarter horses were galloping full-out, the women leaning forward, their hair streaming behind them as they raced across the pasture toward the house.

Fred's grin turned to a frown as he realized the true magnitude of what the banker and real estate agent had done to the women. I wish I had really nailed their dicks to those stumps. No one can ever make up for the sorrow those two women have gone through. Carla lost her husband; Jessica lost her father; then they both lost everything else they loved.

His knuckles turned white, his hands gripped the steering wheel as he started down the rows. He remembered the way Carmichael and Dunleavy looked lugging that gasoline down the path as they prepared to burn the house down with the two women in it. Those two assholes better never give me another chance at them — never,  he thought grimly as the corn spewed out of the combine into the trailer beside him.

-------

After the plane had been taken care of, Madison went to get the Escalade to bring it closer. As soon as he opened the door, he saw the note taped to the dash. Grinning, he left it in place and moved the vehicle next to the jet. They quickly loaded their luggage, and then piled into the SUV, everyone in a good mood, although, Bill was still a little worried about Linda being around the multiple marriage. I know these people better than that. They won't do anything to embarrass Linda. Ease up. They're a class act. I wonder what kind of DVD they have for her?

Aloud, he said, "Hey, Linda. There's a note on the dash for you," he said, pulling it loose and handing it to her as she got in behind him.

Kathy got in the passenger seat, looking a question at him.

"Search me. You know as much about it as I do."

Linda glanced at the note, reached up and pulled the screen into position and hit Play.

Madison smiled as he heard the music come on, then it slowly faded. Just as the music totally disappeared, he heard a female voice say, "Hi, I'm Arlene. My sisters and I have decided that since there are so many people here for you to get to know, and the retreat is so large, it would be fun to introduce you to everyone and show you around a little while you're driving up here."

Five minutes later, Bill and Kathy glanced at each other. Kathy raised an eyebrow and cut her eyes toward the back where Linda sat engrossed.

"Yeah, it is," Bill quietly said. To himself, he thought, The thing sounds like a professionally done travelogue, but a very personal one. He was impressed, and he knew Kathy was, too, by the look she just gave him. Crap, I wish I could see the thing.

Twenty minutes later, the DVD ended and they heard Linda say, "Wow."

Leaning forward between the seats, she continued, "Oh, Dad, they must have spent hours making that DVD — just for me. I mean, they called my name over and over. But," she quieted, then continued, "they're so pretty — all of them. Oh, my. I'm going to feel like the ugly duckling around them. And their mother is so beautiful. Well, heck, they all are. I still can't believe that they did all that for me."

Sitting back and rebuckling her seatbelt, "We had to do a video presentation for school. We worked on ours for... oh, you wouldn't believe how long, and it didn't look a tenth as good as theirs. Kristie and I did the editing, and Johnna did most of the camera work — we worked in groups of three — but their fades and scene changes on this DVD are absolutely flawless, and the camera work — well, you don't even notice it, it's so good. And the background music is wonderful. We never did get our presentation perfect. And there was an echo on ours, like you always get when you're standing a little too far from someone, but theirs didn't have any of that."

Glancing in the mirror at his daughter, Bill said, "Hey now. They went to all that trouble to welcome you. Now don't get down because they did a good job. Heck, ask them how they did it. Even better, get them to show you how they did it. I agree that from what I heard, it sounded very well done. If the editing was that good, there was probably a professional in there somewhere helping them. If not, they've had some experience."

"Oh, Dad, I'm glad they did it. It was a super thing to do for someone they haven't even met. I guess I'm just a little..."

"... Intimidated," Kathy broke in. "Don't feel like you're alone," she said, "I was intimidated by their beauty when I saw them, and I met them gradually. But, trust me on this, you will love them. They made Bill and I feel at home right away, and they will you, too. And about their beauty, well, as I've told you before, you need to look in that mirror. You're just as pretty as any of them. And I really mean that."

Bill glanced in the mirror to see a little bit of a smirk touch his daughter's lips for a second. Yeah, Baby, you're pretty, too. You just got kicked in the belly with your mother's bullshit. But if there's any way on God's green earth to do it, I'll get you through this. We'll get through this together.

Kathy was thinking about the same thing, but she had included herself in helping the other two.

Later they turned off the state road onto the county road that would eventually turn into yet another county road, only much smaller. "There," Bill said, pointing "just to the left of where the sun is setting. That's the mountain we're headed for, where the Matthews live. We'll be there in less than thirty minutes."



-------

Chapter 39

"What the crap is the matter with you, Connie?" Denise asked, a grin starting to form. "They let us off two hours early on a Friday afternoon, because of all the extra hours we've put in. You've been cleaning house like mad; I've never seen you with makeup on, even when you went out with that asshole you were living with. Now you're running around like a chicken with its head cut off. So the kid has a big dick..."

Connie took a breath. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know what's the matter with me. And it hasn't got anything to do with his dick size. Well, that got my attention to start with," she laughed. "At least what you said about seeing him. But, I don't know. I've always kinda liked the kid. I guess that's the reason I messed with him. I just never thought about having him on a date..."

"A date?" Denise said, "Is that what this is? He's coming over to eat supper with us. You've been with him all day, for goodness sake."

"The heck, I have," Connie said, turning to look at her. "How could I be with anybody sitting in the cab of that crane? You should sit in that oven for a while. It's not the picnic everybody thinks it is. And I help you guys every chance I get," she said, taking the freshly made jug of tea out of the refrigerator where she had put it to cool.

"Look, don't get your panties in a wad. I know you help us when you don't have to. And why don't you get Jackson to fix that damn air conditioner? That son-of-a-bitch drives a new BMW; he can afford a few hundred bucks to fix your air. I don't see how you stand it in there."

"That's what my foreman is for. I've bitched at him twice about it. He said that he talked to Jackson, but so far nobody has even looked at it, let alone, fixed it. And I don't want to talk about work, though. Uh, do I look okay? I need a haircut; it's getting all scraggly."

"What is the matter with you?" Denise asked, as she put the boiled potatoes in the bowl, added butter and salt, then turned the mixer on to cream them. Turning to go to the refrigerator for the half and half, she looked at her friend for a moment and grinned. "Feed him. Tell him, 'Come on, we're going to fuck, ' and drag him to your bedroom. You've razzed his butt for a year; now you're acting like a virgin on her wedding night," she finished as she turned the mixer up another notch.

Connie stirred the tea to dissolve a little sugar that had settled out as the liquid cooled, "I just want him to like me..."

"'Me?' What was that about sharing the kid if he was any good, hummm?" Denise asked, opening the cabinet to get the plates.

"Uh, I did say that, didn't I?" Connie replied, a little embarrassed.

"Look," Denise said, setting the three plates on the table in the small adjoining dining room and stopping to look at her friend. "Looks like I need to bow out. Suppose we eat, then I'll run into town and find something to do for a few hours. When I get back, if his pickup is still here, I'll sit outside and listen to music for a while. No use us getting crossways when we've only been living together for two nights."

Connie suddenly hugged her friend. "Chances are, he won't even think about anything with me, least of all, sex. I'm too much older than he is. He's probably just coming over because he's curious why I quit messing with him and started treating him nice — and the free meal," she laughed. "And... I think he likes you. Heck, at least you didn't screw with him all the time, like I did. I saw him eyeing your tits, yesterday."

Denise pulled back. "I just heard someone pull in the drive. I'll get the door. When you hear us in the living room talking, come on in. That way he'll see you in that great-looking dress as you walk toward him. After that, you're on your own," she finished, leaving the kitchen just as the doorbell rang.

Jeremy was dressed in a pair of dark gray slacks, a button-up shirt that went well with them, and a pair of dress shoes. "Wow, you clean up good," Denise teased as she opened the door.

"Uh, so do you," he answered as she ushered him inside. He tried to look her in the eye, but despite himself, her breasts in the tight pullover top, seemed to pull his eyes to them. Resisting with everything he had, he said, "I missed the mailbox the first time, and had to turn around, but I'm not late, am I?"

"Of course not. It's dead on seven right now. Oh, here's Connie," she said, as her new roommate walked in. I swear that she's blushing, Denise thought as she noticed the color in Connie's cheeks. But, hey, he does look good.

Astonishing everybody, including herself, when she walked up, Connie lightly touched her lips to Jeremy's. Stepping back, she said, "Hi, Jeremy."

Not expecting the kiss, he answered. "Uh, hi yourself. You both really look nice," he said, glancing from one to the other. "I guess I've never seen either of you without either hard hats or baseball caps on, and certainly not in pretty dresses. The guys would be envious of me tonight," he finished.

"Hah, I wouldn't bet on it. Most of them are probably at a bar somewhere looking to get laid. Well, at least the unmarried ones. But, we fixed a big supper." Denise said, "I hope you're hungry, or we'll have to eat the leftovers for a week," she laughed.

"Uh, I haven't eaten anything since a couple of sandwiches for lunch."

"Then you should be ready for some good home cooking. The bathroom is the second door on the right," she said, indicating the hallway. "If you need to wash up. We'll be waiting in the dining room."

In the bathroom, Jeremy washed his hands and ran his comb through his hair again. Boy, I really need a haircut. I'm going to go home next weekend, and I'll get Mom to cut it for me. I can't believe these two foxes have invited me to eat with them. Why has Connie started treating me so nice? I keep expecting her to gig me with that sharp tongue of hers. And why in the world did they invite me over on a Friday night? Surely they must have dates. Connie said she had split up with her live-in. I thought she probably had someone else and dropped El Stupid for him. Wonder why she isn't out with him tonight? Crap, I don't know anything about women. I'll probably say something dumb — as usual.

Apprehensive, he walked back down the hall, through the living room to the dining room.

Denise motioned to the chair at the head of the table. "Have a seat. What do you want to drink? We've got beer, iced tea, or Coke."

"Uh, iced tea is fine."

Connie put ice in another glass and filled it with tea. After setting it beside him, the women sat down. He had remained standing until they sat, one to each side of the table, near him. His waiting until they had taken their seats did not go unnoticed by the women, who glanced at each other.

Connie thought about how she had been treated by her live-in. He never bothered to open a door for me, and certainly didn't wait for me to sit before him. I must have been more desperate than I realized. Of course looking for someone in a bar is chancy at best. I sure would have been better off financially if I had stayed away from the big idiot. No, he wasn't the idiot. I was. He and his buddies all act alike. I had almost forgotten how a real man acts around a woman. The guys on the crew are okay, and they don't treat me badly, but they sure don't open doors. Of course, they treat me just like they treat each other. In a way, that's a compliment in itself, at least for a work environment. I wonder how they treat their wives and girlfriends, though. How would they treat me on a date?

Dinner wasn't anything fancy, just a roast that Denise got on sale, beans, creamed potatoes and gravy, slaw, fried okra, and banana pudding for dessert, but there was plenty of everything.

Connie and Denise both offered Jeremy food at the same time. He smiled at them and took the plate of roast that Denise offered, put a slice hurriedly on his plate, then took the bowl of cream potatoes from Connie, thanking each of them. He seemed tentative, taking a moderate helping of each dish that they offered him. Then as they started to eat, he bowed his head for a couple of seconds.

Remembering that she had seen him do that at work, Connie said, "Uh, if you would like to say the blessing, we wouldn't mind, would we Denise?"

"Certainly not."

Jeremy shook his head, then grinned at the two women. "No, I don't impose myself on others. My parents weren't ultra religious or anything, and I'm certainly not, but my father always said a short grace at the table. Actually the same thing every time, except on Thanksgiving and Christmas, when it was a little longer. When I left home for school, I promised my mom that I would always do it. That's the only thing she asked of me when I left."

The two women looked at each other. "Where do your parents live?" Connie asked.

"Near Burlington. I got a grant for my first year of college, but it wasn't much, so I had to work part-time. After my year, I got this job to save up some money. I hope I can get enough put back with two years of work to get two more full years of college."

"What are you majoring in?" Denise asked, refreshing Jeremy's tea.

"Well, I'm just getting the prep courses out of the way to see if I can make it. So far I've made A's and B's. I think I'd like to be a mechanical engineer. But the calculus courses were hard, and the chemistry was a bitch. I don't know if I've got what it takes or not. And with working, I didn't get to spend the time studying that I would have liked. I did learn some things about studying for my classes though. One of the guys in my calculus class told me that there were just so many variations of any type of problem. Most every type had a little trick associated with it, and of course, the problems on the test weren't exactly like the examples in the textbook. Sometimes, they weren't even close.

"Anyway, he said his older brother had told him to go to the library, get several textbooks, find the type of problems that you were currently working on in each book, and presto, there would probably be several variations all worked out in the examples. He said that it worked for him, and it worked for me. My grades started coming up, and the tests were suddenly easier. My last tests for calculus, physics and chemistry seemed simple because of spending more time actually studying, instead of trying to figure what in the heck they were talking about."

Realizing that Jeremy's portions were far smaller than a working man would normally put on his plate, Denise added more food to Jeremy's plate. "We didn't poison anything Jeremy, and regardless of how Connie has treated you for the last year, we don't bite either. Well, not much, anyway," she laughed.

"Okay," he said, smiling. "I know I'm a little bashful around girls. I always have been. The food is excellent. I just don't want to make a pig out of myself."

"Believe me," Connie said, "you would have to go a long way to be in the class of that scumbag I was stupid enough to move in with. Now eat up, or else we're going to think it's our lousy cooking."

Jeremy made a little hollow in his creamed potatoes with his fork as Denise scooped more gravy onto them with a big spoon.

"Thanks," he said as he started eating again. "And, believe me, this is wonderful cooking. And I'm sure tired of mine. Uh, I've set myself up on a budget — my mother's suggestion — so I generally eat the same things all the time. Mostly dried beans, rice and potatoes. I don't usually splurge on meat. But I've managed to put a good bit of money away during the last year. Jackson's company pays better than I was able to find anywhere else, particularly without having any real skills. But he hired me anyway, even though I told him I would only be working for two years before I went back to college.

"He asked me what I was majoring in, and when I told him I wanted to be a mechanical engineer, he just grinned and said he might be growing his own, and hired me."

"Well, he might not be the nicest guy in the world, but he does know how to make money. He got a smart young man who said he would work for the company for two years. That's probably a lot better than having some clod work for him forever," Denise laughed. "And he's obviously filling a niche with those quick to assemble silos. He's got a good product, and he pays decently. He didn't lie to us about why he hired the two of us. He just said that he didn't have enough women working for him, and wanted to correct that before he got into trouble. I don't guess he's required to like us," she grinned. "But he darn sure doesn't seem to have a lot of personality."

"Oh, so I'm a 'smart young man, now?'" he said, before taking a drink from his tea glass.

"Yeah, you're probably smarter than the rest of us," Connie broke in. "Heck, the most of us on the crew only have a high school education, and I've just got a GED. When Mom got sick, I stayed home to take care of her and the other kids, and run the house. Then I had missed too many days. They said I would have to do the twelfth grade over, so I just didn't go back."

"But you got your GED," Jeremy said, "Same difference."

"I wanted to go to college, but it didn't happen," Connie said, her voice a little wistful.

"Yeah, me too," Denise said. "I guess that fits a lot of people. Sometimes it just isn't in the cards."

"But both of you are smart," Jeremy said, sitting back and looking at the women. "You could still go."

"Yeah, right," Denise said. "Now how am I going to make my house payment, and save up enough money to go to school?"

"There's all kinds of tuition programs out there," Jeremy said, starting to eat again.

"Then, why are you working to save up money for school?" Connie asked.

Jeremy hurriedly swallowed a fork full of fried okra. "Boy, this is good. This is the best food I've had in a long time." Then looking at Connie, he said, "Most of the time, you've got to pay that money back. I know that some people get a free ride, but when I applied, I didn't get it. My grades weren't anything extra in high school, and well, I don't want to run up some gigantic debt that I'll have to pay back. I'm not in a hurry. I'm young. I want to pay my way through."

Taking another bite, he swallowed, then, "When my folks wanted something, they saved up and bought it. Oh, they have credit cards, but they mostly used them for emergencies, or for something you can't buy without a card. But we never had new cars, or trucks; they usually bought something not-quite-new to save money, like they did when they bought my pickup for me on my sixteenth birthday. But it had low miles, and was in perfect shape. They had been saving for it, and they went out and bought it. That's the way I'm going to do my college education. I'll make it, but calculus scared me," he laughed. "I think I have a handle on it now, though. I've learned how to study."

After dinner, they adjourned to the living room to get to know each other a little better. Denise grabbed him on his butt as they all started to sit on the couch, and he jumped. After laughing and cutting up for a while, they got a Monopoly game out, teasing each other about three adults playing Monopoly on a Friday night. "Boy, the guys better never hear about this," Jeremy said as the women opened the board on the coffee table. "Me playing a board game with two foxes like you. They'll rag me for the rest of my life."

Denise sat back down beside him, then leaned over and kissed him for a few seconds. Pulling back, she said, a grin on her face, "I'll bet they wouldn't rag you too much about that."

As Jeremy opened his mouth to respond, Connie sat back down on the other side of him, and kissed him. When she leaned back, Jeremy was blushing, and crossed his legs.

Laughing, the women put cushions from the chairs on the floor beside the coffee table. Sitting on the cushions and grinning at their male friend, the game began.

Later, tired of the game, Denise grabbed Connie's hand. "Jeremy, we'll be back in a minute. Don't you dare go anywhere. We just need to do something for a moment. We'll be right back."

Almost dragging Connie down the hall, Denise turned into her bedroom and shut the door behind them. "Okay, it's put up or shut up time," she said staring her friend in the eyes. "If you want me to, I'll take a ride downtown, or we can do something else. To be truthful with you, I don't really want to go. But I will if you think that's the best thing."

"Uh," Connie started, then hesitated, looking at the floor for a moment, then back at Denise. "I've got a sort of confession to make. I, uh, talk rough around the guys on the crew, well, to kind of keep them at arms length, I guess you could say." In a rush, she finished, "I've really only had two guys: my husband and that turkey I moved in with. If you count 'Weenie Dick, ' the two hunch king," she said, her voice changing. "My ex-husband's idea of making love was, 'bend over the table, Bitch, ' and he slammed it in. I'm scared to death around Jeremy. He's so nice. I don't even know what to do. He hasn't made a pass at either of us, and I don't think he's going to. I don't want to make him think we're sluts..."

Denise started laughing, and thinking that the laughter was at her, Connie's face turned red.

"No, no," Denise said, realizing what was happening, grabbing her friend by the arm. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at us. You see, this slut isn't very much more experienced that you. I've had the guy in high school that took my cherry. The operative word being 'took.' I never dated that bastard again. The next was my husband. And I had a one night stand right after I got divorced. Heck, it's been so long since my pussy has had any use that I'm afraid it has grown up."

Thinking a minute, Denise continued, now taking Connie by the hand in her exuberance. "Why don't you go back out and sit down with him. Heck, it looks like he isn't going to do anything. So kiss him, and make out with him for, say... twenty minutes. Then I'll come out and do the same. We obviously aren't going to carry him off to our bedrooms. After we each have a turn, we'll back up and punt," she finished, grinning. "By then, he'll be ready to rape us, or, heck I don't know. Let's just have fun."

Connie looked doubtful. "I don't know. My ex kissed me — I guess you could call it that — running his tongue down my throat. Then he was ready to fuck. The ox didn't even do that much. But kissing Jeremy is fun. I just hope I don't make a fool out of myself."

"Well, if you do, I probably will too. Just one thing. If we do this, we're in this together. I like the guy, too. Okay?"

Connie stared at her friend. "I can't believe I'm doing this. But I've had more fun tonight than I can remember. Heck, we were too busy cutting up to concentrate on the Monopoly game," she laughed. "But I hope that one of us doesn't get hurt with this. I could fall for the kid. Well, whatever he is. He's acting more like a man than the two assholes I've been involved with." Connie hesitated for a minute. "... Okay, I'll do it."

Denise turned her buddy around, pushing her toward the door. "Go to it. But remember, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Walking back down the hall, Connie saw Jeremy coming back into the living room after getting himself a refill for his glass of tea. "Oh, gosh, Jeremy. I would have gotten that for you..."

Sitting the glass down on the coaster on the coffee table, he looked back up at Connie who was now standing beside him. "Ease up there girl. You don't have to do everything for me. Wow, what a change. Last week, you were ribbing me for everything."

Connie sighed and looked a little sheepish. "That's because I realized that I liked you, and I'm older than you. I just didn't know what to do," she said, fighting to keep her voice level.

Taking her hand, Jeremy pulled her down beside him. "What's with you two? Why the secret discussions all of a sudden?"

Leaning over, she kissed him. Then after a moment she put an arm behind him and the other hand on the back of his neck, and put everything she knew into it. After a couple of minutes, they pulled apart an inch or two and she said, "I've got twenty minutes, then it's Denise's turn. Show me how to really kiss."

"Me," he almost stuttered. "I've only had one girlfriend, like I told you. And she dropped me for my best friend. I doubt if I'm good enough at it to teach anybody..." But he lost his train of thought with her sexy mouth, lips slightly parted, so close to his. Their world became sensations that neither of them had much of in the past. Their mouths slowly locked together, the gentle kiss gradually becoming more intense, yet not full blown lust, either, although Connie realized that she had never been more ready for sex in her life. Not even close.

Seemingly, a minute later, Denise tapped her on the shoulder, "My time," she quietly said. Connie pulled her mouth from his and almost objected. It couldn't have been twenty minutes. But Denise wouldn't do that to me. Crap, the time flew by. Reluctantly extracting her arm from behind Jeremy, who also seemed in a daze, she stood, feeling her wet panties stick to her.

Denise had slid into the exact same position before Connie managed to get coordinated enough to walk out of the room. Then realizing that she was desperately thirsty, she walked back through the living room toward the kitchen. She glanced at her friend. She seems to be enjoying this as much as I did. This can't be happening. I never even thought about sharing a guy. I'm not into that. Whatever we're into,  she thought as she hurried on to the kitchen. He didn't even put his hand on my breasts. But it surely did feel good to have them pressed against his chest. How can this twenty-year-old guy stir me up so? I've got to change my panties. Oh, my goodness. He must smell me. Now, I'm more embarrassed than I ever was. All he did was kiss me. And heck, it must have been five minutes before he even touched his tongue to mine, but boy, can he kiss.

In the kitchen, she poured a glass of ice water and drank it straight down, staring at her reflection in the kitchen window. Darnit, I am pretty good looking. I want to be good looking for the first time since high school. What has he done to me?

Turning away from her reflection, she looked toward the doorway. I could ease back over there and watch them. Why do I want to do that? Easy, Stupid,  she admonished herself, you want him to kiss you again. But, somehow, I don't feel jealous of Denise. Maybe I'll just watch for a minute, then go on back to my room and change panties.

A moment later, she stood in the doorway and peeked at the necking couple. Denise had her breasts crushed against Jeremy's chest, and she was making little moaning sounds, occasionally. He was slowly stroking his hand up and down her back. Connie felt her face flush, and... that was not the only place. Before she quite realized that she was doing it, she sat down on the other side of Jeremy and leaned against him, putting her arms around him and leaning her breasts against his back.

She heard Jeremy sigh, then Denise took hold of her hand and squeezed it to let her know that what she was doing was all right. A little later, Denise pulled back from Jeremy, and he turned to Connie. It felt like a year since he had kissed her.

Denise smiled at the two and staggered into the kitchen to get something to drink.

-------

At 01:00 A.M., Jeremy started his pickup, turned around and drove down Denise's driveway, having had the best night he could ever remember. Even though his dick had remained rock-hard all night, he didn't feel like he had been teased. From their frank conversations about their married lives, it was obvious that they had been abused in one way or another by the men they had been attached to. He was now even more surprised that they had invited him to supper.

They had fed him the rest of the banana pudding and waited on him hand and foot, as the saying goes. He was supposed to be at their house tomorrow (well today) at ten to help paint the kitchen. He had always hated painting, with a passion. Now, he wondered if he would be able to get to sleep.

At his rundown apartment, he put his clothes into the hamper and lay back on the bed. He doubted that it would take more than a couple of strokes before relief would come. Then again, he might just have to do it several times tonight. Thinking of their soft breasts against his chest, he pushed his shorts down.

-------

"Daddy we need to talk to you," Arlene said as she and the other girls came bursting into the living room where Jeff lay in his recliner watching television with his eyes closed.

He picked up the remote, conveniently placed on his chest, and muted the sound while Jennie flipped the lever to bring him upright. Seizing the opportunity, Arlene straddled his lap, yanked her top up and shoved a nipple and an appreciable amount of titty into his mouth.

She made cooing sounds as he sucked, but quickly changed him to the other breast. After a couple of moments, she pulled back. "Oh, that's nice, but we came to ask you something."

Jeff looked around him at the smiling faces as Arlene continued, "We have a welcome banner for Linda, but the best place to put it is too high for us. Come see if you can figure out how to put it up."

"Where do you want to put it?" Jeff asked as Arlene moved off his lap to let him up and rearrange her clothes.

"Right in front of the retreat. There are two big trees on either side of the drive, but the limbs are too high for us to reach. We don't have any way to get up high enough to attach the banner so it will clear the SUV when they come in. We found some ladders that the carpenter's use, but the ground by the trees is steep and uneven. We're afraid of using the ladder..."

"Have you got cord to tie it up with?" Jeff asked, getting to his feet.

"Oh, yeah," Ann said. "We've got plenty."

"Okay. Meet me at the front door. I'll be there as soon as I get my bow and a target arrow or two."

"Oh, neat," they all said in perfect unison, instantly figuring out what he was going to do.

A few minutes later as they stood in the driveway in front of the retreat, "This is where you want it?" Jeff said, nodding to the trees.

"Yeah, this would be perfect," Arlene replied.

Jeff had brought a roll of thin fishing line with him. Pulling off an ample length of the small line, he stretched it out so that it wouldn't tangle, attached it to the arrow and shot it over a limb of the tree on the right side of the driveway using just enough force for the arrow to clear the limb. He had wound the other end of the small line around his left hand in case he put a little too much force on the arrow. He handed the end of the small line to Arlene. "Tie this to your heavier cord and pull that end of your banner up while I do the other side," he said.

After stringing the top side of the banner, the girls pulled the cords from the bottom end to the trees and secured the banner in place. Standing back to look, they admired their handiwork.

The banner simply read:

WELCOME LINDA

The girls "thanked" him, then dashed back toward the front door, leaving him with an erect cock that seemed bent on tearing its way out of his jeans. Inside he stepped around the corner to the main hallway to see Laura bearing down on him with one of the riding vacuums. She blew him a kiss as he quickly stepped out of the way, the vacuum never slowing. In the kitchen, Helen, carrying a can of furniture polish and a small towel, waved to him as she hurried through the connecting door into the small dining room.

Jeff did an about face and made two steps toward the door before Diana's, "Wait! I have something for you to do," froze him in his tracks.

"Yes, Dear," he said as innocently as he could muster.

Diana almost grinned, but quickly straightened her face, "Captain Madison's new suite needs to be checked out and recleaned," she said, walking toward her husband.

"But, Baby, the cleaning crew already did that. I saw the note on the table where they listed the things they had done. Uh, I guess the things you had given them to do," he finished.

"Yeah, I know, but we need to recheck it. I want it to be perfect. The girls just finished Kathy and Linda's suite. So I want to make sure that Bill isn't slighted. Just..."

Jeff grabbed her by the neck in mid-sentence and roughly kissed her. He knew she liked that sometimes, and if her nipples tenting the front of her top were any indication, she liked it this time, too.

But it didn't distract her enough. "You know where we keep the room vacuums on that end," she continued. "Make sure the suite looks nice, and you might want to carry the basket we've prepared for him with you when you go. It's in our bedroom."

"A basket?" Jeff said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh it's a basket in the strictest sense of the word, but it's just a rectangle that's about six inches deep, a foot wide and a foot and a half long. It doesn't have a handle, and it doesn't look feminine. We put a present in it. Just set it on the dresser by the bed. Make sure the note that the girls prepared stays attached to it," she said, preoccupied, already thinking of something else.

"Did you see the banner the girls put up over the driveway?" Jeff persisted.

"I was there when they had it made, but I haven't been out front to see it. I doubt that I'll have time before Linda gets here. Frank told me while you were asleep that Bill had called when they left the airport, and that's been... about an hour ago," she finished as she looked at her watch.

Kissing her hard again, he hurried out to pick up the basket and give Madison's suite a second cleaning in case some of the construction dust had been missed. He knew better than to argue over something like this. She would pretend to agree with him, then go do it herself.

Glancing in the basket a few minutes later as he picked it up from the bed, he whistled. There was a leather travel case that barely fit into the basket. Unzipping, it folded out to show pockets and loops that contained about everything you could think of as far as toilet articles for a man were concerned.

The case itself was soft leather that spoke of money. He recognized the cologne, since it was identical to a bottle that his wives had recently given him, and knew that it was very expensive. Smiling, he closed the case, and hurried to his cleanup duties.

-------

Linda watched the DVD from beginning to end, twice. Just before the end, each of the people on the video looked up from what they were doing and said: "I'm Diana", or "I'm Laura..." until everyone at the retreat had introduced themselves. Then they did it again, but with a hesitation before each person gave their name. By the time Linda was through watching it, she could give the person's name during the hesitation, and before the person on the video said their name.

Bill looked at Kathy and grinned, lifting an eyebrow as they heard Linda quickly saying each person's name. "Helen," he quietly said, and Kathy nodded, realizing that the teacher had probably arranged this so that Linda would not feel stressed with trying to remember each person's name.

The DVD finished for the second time, and Linda leaned forward. "Daddy, isn't Diana Matthews, Arlene's mother? She said she was on the video, but, well... she can't be. Gosh, Dad, she can't be more than twenty. I mean she couldn't... have Arlene. She would have been, like, four years old..."

Madison laughed, then frowned. "She looks really young, Linda. And I think she even looks younger now than the first time I saw her. But she really is Arlene's mother..."

"Dad, she's beautiful. All of them are. I'm going to feel like the ugly duckling around all those girls..."

"No, you are not," Kathy broke in. "You're just as pretty as they are. And remember, they're really nice people. Just anyone wouldn't have gone to all that trouble to make you a welcome video."

"And... Helen. Isn't she a retired principal? Isn't that the one you were telling me about, Daddy?"

"Her name is Doctor Boswell, Baby. And she is a retired principal."

"Daddy, she can't be old enough to be retired. Any principal that I've ever known looked ancient..."

"A little like your dad, huh?"

"Daddeee. You know I don't think that. But how come they look so young?"

"Honey, I guess, come to think about it, all the adults there pretty much look young. Maybe it's the mountain air," he kidded. "Heck, Mr. Wainwright and Margaret even looked younger when Kathy and I were there last week," Madison finished, but the wheels started turning in his head. Hummm,  he thought, "Out of the mouths of babes," they say.

Thinking, he eventually lost the thread of the conversation between his daughter and Kathy as he began to wonder in earnest about how young the women looked. Mr. Wainwright had been so full of energy that it was almost embarrassing, and Margaret looked years younger.

The miles drifted by.

-------

The security system made its familiar "bong."

VEHICLE IDENTIFIED: ESCALADE — LAURA

FIRST PERSON IDENTIFIED: BILL MADISON.

SECOND PERSON IDENTIFIED: KATHY ARNOLD.

THIRD PERSON: UNIDENTIFIED #1. VISUAL UNCLEAR.

Jeff turned from the front window. "Computer, identify third person, Linda Madison."

THIRD PERSON IDENTIFIED: LINDA MADISON.

The picture on the television shifted from Laura's Escalade coming up the drive to the sitcom that had been on before the interruption.

"Computer: PA active," Jeff said.

PA ACTIVE.

"Everybody, they're coming up the drive."

Jeff had already figured out which camera would give the best angle. "Computer: Camera 6 and track vehicle."

CAMERA 6 AND TRACKING VEHICLE, the computer acknowledged as the sitcom went away again and a shot of the driveway from the other side of the banner came on the screen. The living room suddenly filled with people rushing to the front window to see. A couple of minutes later, the television showed the Escalade approaching. Then it stopped. Even through the windshield, the image enhanced of course by the software, they saw enough to know that Linda was excited over her banner.

After a moment, the Escalade resumed moving. As the Escalade came to a stop, the back door of the retreat burst open and Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa ran out. As they started to introduce themselves as Linda got out of the SUV, she said, "Wait. Let me see if I can do it."

"You're Jennie," she said, smiling at the little blond, who grinned back at her then hugged her.

"Right."

"And you're Melissa," she said to the dark-haired girl with slightly larger breasts standing beside her.

"Right again," Melissa answered.

"And you're Ann," she said to the slightly shorter, auburn-haired beauty.

"Right again. Only one left."

"And you must be Arlene," she said to the taller girl, with a mop of dark auburn hair, hanging in soft waves to her waist.

"One hundred percent," Arlene said hugging her. "Your dad said you were smart. You'll fit in just great around here."

"Hi, Kathy. Hi Captain Madison," Arlene said as Madison opened the hatch.

"Hi ladies. Here are your... ," Madison got out before Arlene grabbed Linda's case and Ann grabbed her makeup case, with Jennie and Melissa taking Kathy's things.

"Come on. We'll introduce you to everyone, and then show you two your suite," Arlene said. Then spinning back to Kathy, she continued. "We've got a better suite for you this time, Kathy. So let us introduce Linda to everyone, then we'll show you where to go."

"Okay," Kathy said to a retreating back. Then grinning at Bill, she continued, "I don't think you will have to worry about your daughter feeling left out."

As the back door closed behind the girls, Bill got his bag and closed the hatch of the Escalade. "I'm still a little worried about this. The girls are wonderful and have made me feel welcome, but I..."

Just to tease him, Kathy said, "Well, you were complaining about not being able to talk to your daughter about sex. She should be able to get her questions answered with them," she finished, nodding toward the back door.

"Yeah, maybe a little too thoroughly," he sighed, as they walked toward the door.

"Oh, lighten up, Bill. Kids talk about sex, and at her age, half of what they hear from their peers is just plain wrong. At worst, she'll get good answers, and give the girls credit. They're all smart as a whip. Things might turn out better than you expect."

The grin on Kathy's face didn't help one bit. Worried he fumbled to hold the back door for her.



-------

Chapter 40

Bill, Kathy and Linda, after their trip from the airport, walked down the hallway of the retreat accompanied by Jeff's four younger wives. As they neared the kitchen, Wainwright and Margaret stepped into the hallway. "Well, well. My favorite lady," Wainwright said, scooping Linda into his arms.

Laughing, Linda said, "You had better be careful about who you are calling your 'favorite lady.' Ms. Stanford..." then at Margaret's mock glare, "uh, Margaret might have something to say about that," she finished grinning at Margaret.

As soon as Frank turned her loose, Margaret hugged her as well. "He won't get into trouble as long as he's talking about you," she laughed. "You happen to be pretty special to me, too. We're so glad to see you."

In the living room a few minutes later, she was introduced to everyone else, but managed to call each by name before Arlene, who was doing the introductions, got the name said.

"I loved the DVD," Linda said, speaking to everyone. "I watched it twice on the way up here. It was super. It was very nice of all of you to do that for me."

Evie, who seemed to be especially taken with the sparkling-eyed teenager, nudged her husband and leaned close to say, "She's beautiful."

"Yeah, I agree," Dave said. "Very much."

Apparently Evie's whisper carried, because Linda's face flushed, and she grinned at Evie.

"Come on," Arlene said, "We've got something to show you two."

"Dinner will be in thirty minutes," Diana said, "Be back by then." Having heard what Evie said, and seeing the look on her face, Diana smiled at her friend, "Go on with them if you want to Evie. Some of the things came from you and Dave, and you're just as much a part of this as anyone else, not to say anything about all the work you two have done on the suite."

"No, I'll help with dinner. I don't even know her..."

"Nonsense, it's almost ready to be put on the table. You've more than done your part. Now go with them. Dave might want to go, too."

Dave laughed, "Nope. I'll let the women do this."

Evie squeezed Diana's hand, smiled at her husband and took off down the hall to catch up with the girls.

"What brought that on?" Jeff asked a little later when he was able to get Diana aside, a puzzled expression on his face.

"I don't know. It was just... something. The look on Evie's face when she was introduced to Linda..."

"Yeah, come to think of it, I guess she would want to be there when Linda sees the renovations to the suite."

"Uhmmm, maybe. But I think it was more than that. Heck, she builds for a living. She must have been with homeowners many times when they first saw renovations. She seems taken with Linda... Well, Kathy is with them, too. Maybe Evie just wants to be there when Linda and Kathy see the surprise that she and the girls prepared for them," Diana finished, neglecting to mention anything she had done.

A couple of minutes later, Jeff's four young wives, plus Kathy, Evie and Linda stood in the hallway by the newly renovated two-bedroom suite, waiting for Linda to open the elegant door.

"What's everybody waiting on?" Linda asked.

"For you to open the door to the suite that belongs to you and Kathy," Ann said, giggling.

"Well, if it 'belongs' to both of us, then we should open it together," Linda said, nodding to Kathy who grinned and put her hand on the lever with her.

They pushed down, and the door swung open on silent hinges. Kathy almost had to push Linda, who stood in the doorway staring. The two young women stepped into the room.

Turning slowly around in a circle, "This is ours?" Linda gasped to Kathy as they both stared at the elegance displayed around them. Two cream print sofas formed an "L," with one of them facing a large plasma television as large as Jeff and his wives had in their bedroom suite. Ornate (maple) carved baseboards matched six-inch ornate cove molding above the walls, the pattern continuing throughout the suite. (The expert finish carpenter was back at work with a vengeance.)

"Oh, look," Kathy said, indicating three matching crystal lamps sitting on three elegant wooden tables trimmed with inlays of what were obviously rare woods.

"The table," Linda managed to get out as she pointed to a four foot by four foot etched glass table with carved glass legs setting in front of one of the couches.

Arlene spoke up, "Mom ordered the table for the sitting room in our suite a month or so ago. When she heard that you were coming, Linda, she decided to put it in here, instead. And I don't mean to slight you, Kathy. This suite belongs to the two of you."

"But... but why would she do this for us?" Kathy asked. "I'm just an employee of Mr. Wainwright's company. Why would you spend all this money..."

"Well, to be a little melodramatic, but nevertheless, accurate, we do put our lives in yours and Bill's hands every time we get on that plane. Besides, you're very special to Mr. Wainwright and Margaret, and you're going to be here a lot because they are. Oh, crap. I'm not doing well with this..." Arlene finished, unable to put into words what she felt.

"Do you like the color?" Jennie asked. "We picked it out."

Tearing their eyes away from the beautiful table and lamps, both young women looked around the room. The walls were a light gold with golden and bronze wallpaper on the accent wall.

"You picked this? It's beautiful. The whole room is beautiful." Linda said, looking around.

"Well, we all picked it out," Jennie said. "We tried to quiz your dad about your favorite colors, both of you, and other things," she mysteriously said, a smile tickling her face.

"Look at the window," Kathy sighed, nodding toward the large picture window that overlooked the front lawn and would reveal the tumbling rough vista of the abyss and the tree-lined slope of the mountain beyond, come morning.

Linda and Kathy both hurried to the window and looked out. Linda ran her hand through the sheer beneath the thick and obviously expensive drapes, then turned back to the others. "This... suite... It can't be just ours. It's for us to use on the weekend when we come down, right?"

Arlene stepped over and hugged the slightly younger girl, then leaned back to look into her face, "This suite belongs to you and Kathy. No one else will use it. You can leave all your stuff here that you want. We might come in from time to time to make sure everything is clean for you before you come up, but this belongs to you two — no one else."

"I never had anything like this. I mean, I have a nice room at home, and we have a nice house, well did have. Dad says that our house will have to be sold because of the divorce, but he promised me that I could pick the house that I wanted if he could afford it and it was close enough for him to quickly get to the airport. He told me, over and over, that the retreat was really nice, and that giant living room I just saw is... just, I don't know. I never saw a television that big. And all that beautiful furniture, but this is... is... mine? I'm sorry, Kathy, ours I should say."

Melissa grabbed Linda's hand and Jennie took Kathy's. "Come on, Linda," Melissa said, "Now we get to show you what is yours alone."

"Then we'll show you yours," Jennie said with a little laugh to Kathy.

Standing in front of the door to her bedroom, Linda hesitated, her face flushed. Tentatively she pushed down on the door lever and gave a gentle push. Stepping quickly inside, she hissed in her breath for a second, then the teenager in her took hold and she squealed, spinning in a slow circle with her arms partway extended. Stopping her turn, she stood stunned, staring at the queen-sized, carved-cherry, canopied bed. The semi-sheer white canopy was set off by white bows on the posts. The bed was partially turned down to reveal the eight-hundred count white sheets below the white shimmering comforter and pillow shams of satin. The bed skirt was a light gold to match the love seat of light gold and light red which set nearby, but could be easily moved because of hidden wheels beneath the legs.

"Try it out," Arlene quietly said, giving Linda a slight nudge.

That's all it took. With a squeal, Linda ran to the bed, lying face-down on it, running her hands over the astonishingly smooth sheets. Rolling over and looking through the semi-sheer canopy at the ceiling, she whispered, "I feel like a princess."

Without thought, Evie grabbed the nearest girl, who happened to be Ann, and hugged her, laughing, almost as excited as Linda.

Off the bed in an instant, Linda grabbed Kathy's hand and dragged her to the window. "Oh, look. I have a beautiful window, too," she said, looking out onto the lawn, lit by the outside lights as darkness descended on the mountains.

As they turned away from the window, Linda dashed to the HD DVD player sitting on a cabinet under the wall-hung HDTV. Opening the doors below the player revealed row upon row of movies. Kneeling, she pulled out several at random, fighting not to squeal with delight. Seeing a laminated booklet, she picked it up, glanced at it and turned to the others.

"That's a list of all the movies. They're in the theater, and you can use them anytime," Jennie said, smiling at Linda's astonishment.

"There are so many," Linda said, putting the movies and list back. Thinking she had seen everything, she stood and slowly turned until her eyes rested upon the large dresser. Unconsciously, she quietly whispered, "Oooh," as she focused on the basket flanked on each side by two dozen yellow roses in their crystal vases. The basket with its big pink bow sitting on the ornately mirrored dresser produced a stunning effect. "How could I have missed this," she said a little louder. "Oh... I was so excited that I didn't even see all this."

Dashing across the room, she snatched the large card attached to the front of the basket.

WELCOME TO OUR HOME, LINDA

 NOW YOUR HOME AS WELL!

The card was signed by everyone at the retreat, including Frank, Margaret, Dave, Evie and Fred.

Tears streaming down her face, Linda put the card on the dresser and carefully removed the bow, then the clear plastic wrap from the basket.

Jennie brought her a tissue that Linda gratefully accepted as she began lifting out items from the basket while she dabbed at her eyes.

"Oh, my gosh. Oh... my... gosh..." Linda's exuberance continued to build each time she reached into the basket and brought something else out. Suddenly she stopped, turning to the others. "You didn't have to do this for me. Oh, I guess that was a dumb thing to say. Oh, I don't know what to say. Thank you."

Grabbing Arlene, Linda hugged her, then the others. Shortly she was back to bringing one thing out of the basket at a time, rejoicing over it, then setting it on the dresser with the other items that she had already removed. The cosmetics and other items were not directed specifically toward a fifteen-year old. All the women, led by Diana, had discussed in detail how the direction of the items should go.

Having heard from Frank and Margaret how intelligent and adult Linda was, the women had skewed the targeted age a little higher. There were many items for a teenager, but things such as makeup and perfume were expensive and designed for young adults. To understate, this did not go unnoticed by Linda. Realizing that they were treating her like an adult, her feelings for the Matthews went up yet another notch.

Ann nudged Kathy. "You haven't looked in your new bedroom," she said, a gleam in her eye.

A look of shock crossed Kathy's face, since she had not thought for a second that they had done anything special for her, other than put her in this gorgeous suite. She had already been here before, and the suite she had used for the weekend was like everything else in the retreat — beyond beautiful. Yet this suite wasn't the generic, although elegant, suite she had been assigned last weekend.

Kathy didn't know what to do; she just stood there. Melissa grabbed one hand and Ann the other, laughing, they pulled Kathy toward the other bedroom.

Kathy managed two steps into her bedroom before she stopped and took a breath. Restraining herself by a thin margin from tearing about the room as Linda had done, she sighed as she saw the king-sized bed with its cherry headboard, a series of five-inch mirror panels arranged in a diamond pattern across the width of the piece. To the side of the headboard were two dimmer switches, one to control two wall glass lamps and the other for the two silver-trimmed lamps sitting on the side tables.

The comforter and pillow shams were a royal red with gold lines running though them, while the bed skirt was gold with red lines running though it. Above the headboard were matching draperies that were tied together on the top under a bunched valance to form an upside down "V" from the center of the bed, before spreading out via tiebacks to the corners of the headboard. Opposite the bed was a large plasma television on the wall to match Linda's TV, and a HD DVD player sitting on a similar cabinet to the side.

Kathy couldn't resist running her hand over the silky feel of the sheets as she walked past the bed toward the window to look out as Linda had done. She knew that she would spend many hours just sitting in the window seat looking at the view. What a marvelous place to read or study, she thought.

Having spotted the basket flanked by two dozen red roses setting on the dresser, she tried to inconspicuously wipe her eyes. Smiling at her, Arlene handed Kathy a tissue and hugged her. "Open your basket," she whispered.

Kathy approached the basket, but cupped a rose in her hand, bringing her nose close to inhale the fragrance. "They're beautiful," she said, never having received roses from anyone before. "They're so beautiful."

Opening the card with trembling fingers, she realized that it was identical to Linda's. It, also, was signed by everyone. But why are they doing this for me? I know that they're treating Linda special because of all she is going through and her mother deserting her, but why me? I'm nothing special. I just work for Mr. Wainwright, regardless of what they say about us flying the plane.

"Well, don't just stand there, silly," Linda said walking up behind her, fighting, mostly successfully, to not jump up and down. "Let's see what they got for you."

Pulling the first item her fingers touched out of the basket, she held her breath for an instant — Oscar de la Renta's Dewdrop Crystal Parfum. She set the crystal bottle down carefully to admire the beautiful container crowned with a full-blossomed flower on which a delicate dewdrop had come to rest. My gosh. If the rest is like this, there are hundreds of dollars setting in this basket. The next item out was Oscar de la Renta Active Body Bath, then came the makeup. It went on and on. She was certainly aware that the Matthews were rich, and she was used to being around Mr. Wainwright and others that were rich, but lifting the crystal bottles out of the basket brought home an idea of how much these people had spent on her.

Her hands shaking, she set the last item down. Turning to the girls, she said, "You can't do this. This is too expensive. I just work for Mr. Wainwright's company. I'm an employee. I recognize some of this. It's fabulously expensive... Way too expensive for me."

"Oh, pooh," Arlene laughed. "You're our friend. We just want to know whether you like it or not."

"Like it? I love it. Oh, this is fabulous. I could never be able to afford all this. It's everything that I've wanted. This room — this suite — is... is beyond words."

The hugs started again with everyone laughing and commenting on various things from the basket.

Kathy turned to Linda holding up a bottle of bubble bath, "I'll bet our place is going to smell great," she told Linda, both of them grinning at each other, as Kathy dabbed at her tears.

"You bet," Linda answered. "I can't wait," she said fighting not to break down and bawl.

"Did you do all this since last weekend?" Kathy asked, again looking around the room.

"Well, it started out to be a surprise for Mr. Wainwright and Margaret, but then we decided to do the first suite for the two of you," Arlene said.

"We managed to finish Bill's as well," Evie said. "We brought in two crews from Denver, and it was close, with all the other things that were going on, but Korey got it done."

Arlene smiled at them. "We had a little family meeting and decided that you two might like to be in a two-bedroom suite instead of being alone so much of the time. Plus you can still have your privacy with your own bedrooms."

"Oh, Linda and I get along just great," Kathy laughed, then smiled at Linda. "I think this will work out beautifully, don't you Linda?"

"You bet. This is a big place. It will be good to have Kathy close by."

"For things that go bump in the night," Kathy teased.

Linda laughed, an almost tinkling sound that Kathy loved to hear. "No, silly. I'm not afraid. Besides, I spend a lot of time... uh, by myself," she finished, thinking about how much her mother had been gone lately, her good mood threatening to change.

All of them realized that the problems with Linda's mother were probably what had caused the dark look to cross Linda's face, but Evie was the first to respond, grabbing Linda's hand.

"We still haven't seen your..." Evie started.

Helen announced on the PA: "COME AND GET IT BEFORE WE THROW IT OUT."

Linda and Kathy laughed. "Was that, uh, your teacher, Dr. Boswell?" Linda asked.

"Yeah, that was Helen, also our sister-wife," Melissa said, grinning. "Really helps on tests," she teased, blatantly lying.

"Oh, it does not," Jennie said, laughing.

"That's Mom's little invitation to dinner," Arlene said, "but it kinda caught on and we all do it sometimes. Come on. Let's hurry. We'll come back after dinner and check out your bathroom. You've got a surprise there, too," Arlene finished as they all left the suite.

Much to Evie's consternation, the girls took off at a run again, laughing and giggling, in the best mood she could imagine. Screw it,  she thought, belatedly deciding to run with them. I'm not going to walk along behind like an old woman. Besides, with the healer, I'm feeling more like those teenagers every day. Putting on a burst of speed, she caught up with them and grabbed Ann's hand, giggling as they stormed by the living room as Jeff, Dave, Frank and Bill walked into the hallway.

"Come on slowpokes," Evie yelled over her shoulder as they passed.

The men looked at each other. "I don't know who that blond is," Dave said in a mock serious voice. "I've never seen her before."

A moment later the men were laughing and kidding Dave as they went through the kitchen door, teasing him about Jeff not being the only one married to a teenager.

After their usual superb meal, Diana, Laura, Helen, Margaret and Evie tried to shoo Kathy, Linda and the girls out of the kitchen to enjoy themselves, but they balked.

"No, Ma'am. You've bought me adult presents; I'm not going to act like a kid when it comes to cleaning up after dinner," Linda said, as her dad grinned, proud of his daughter.

Diana smiled back at Linda, "Okay, but your father tells me that you play tennis. The night is beautiful and the court has lights. Of course there's the game room and the pool. So have fun."

With all the help, and the efficiency of the Matthews women, the kitchen looked like a picture out of Better Homes and Gardens in minutes.

-------

Later, Diana and Evie sat in Evie's living room. Diana quietly said, "One day soon, you and I need to have a long talk. I've been noticing some things about myself and my sister-wives. Jeff has mentioned some things, also. I'm going to get him to ask the healer about something. If it turns out the way I think it is going to, you and I will have a lot to talk about. Seeing you with Linda tonight has started things to gel in my mind. I may be wrong, but I don't think I am."

"What is it?" Evie asked, a look of wonder on her pretty face as she sat on the couch in her living room, turned to face Diana sitting beside her. Unconsciously, she wound a lock of hair around her finger as she propped an elbow on the back of the couch, stared at her friend.

"Well, I don't have all the information I need, right now. Let's wait until I can get Jeff to ask the healer, but he has remarked over and over about how well all his wives get along together. How well Arlene and I did even before we came out here, and to some extent, it has applied to Jennie and Melissa even when we were back in Georgia. I think that is, to a large extent, the influence of our Alpha Male, as we've talked about before. But I think there is more going on lately than we have realized."

Diana's eyes softened as she looked at her friend, who stared wide-eyed back at her. "You look different, too. Oh, you were beautiful the first time I saw you," Diana said as Evie blushed and tried to protest. "Hush, you are, and the healer has made you look younger... and more, somehow. I think your attitude is changing. Oh, I know that some of it is because you're around our marriage, but still... you've made a comment or two about not being able to satisfy your husband now that the healer has influenced him, and Dave's sexual appetite has... increased, shall we say. Maybe something is happening because of that and other things..."

"Diana, you can't just start a conversation like this and then just drop it. Tell me what you think, and we'll both wait for Jeff to talk to the healer about it..."

"I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have started this. I don't really know enough to put it into words. It's just a... feeling I have that is different from before."

"Before what?" Evie asked, almost exasperated.

Diana sighed. "I'm not sure I can pin it down, but I think it started somewhere around the time that I had Arlene seduce Jeff, or try to, at least," she said, smiling. "It... worked out a little differently than I had planned, as you know; then there was Ann. Somewhere along in there, I changed, or there was a change in me."

Frowning, Diana took out a cigarette and lit it, deep in thought. Evie handed her an ashtray, and just waited. Finally, Diana spoke, "You could look at it from two perspectives. Logically, everything happened because, well... Jennie and Melissa fell in love with our Alpha Male, and it just wasn't right to deny them. Ann wanted to give him her virginity, and told me she had been in love with Jeff ever since puberty. On and on. But... looking at it from another perspective; you could almost say that I went shopping for wives for my husband."

Laughing, fighting not to giggle, she leaned back in her seat. "Know what your husband is doing right now?" Diana dropped the non sequitur.

"No," Evie laughed, "but if I know him, he's trying to talk to Jeff about business."

"Jeff is sitting in our living room, talking to Frank, Dave and Bill. Oh, I know that didn't take anything to figure out. But I didn't figure it out. I know." After a moment of silence, Diana smiled at her friend, took another pull on the cigarette, then put it out. Turning back to, Evie, Diana's continued, "I've been able to tell where Jeff was for a long time." As Evie started to say something, Diana motioned for her to wait. "Yeah, I know that I've told you that before. But now, if he's reasonably close and I concentrate, I can pick up on his emotions and can sometimes tell who he's with."

Evie took a drink of her iced tea, then slowly put the glass back on the coffee table in front of her. "I can't imagine being able to do that..." she started.

"... But there's more. Helen called it to my attention. At first, I just thought that she was being nice to me, then Jeff said something about it. My... voice is different. Sometimes I used to hate my voice..."

"You have a beautiful voice, Diana," Evie broke in.

"When I got excited, my voice sounded too... something; I don't know what you would call it. Jeff said he never heard anything, but he may have just been being nice. Afraid he would get his pussy cut off," she grinned. Sobering, she continued, "I can hear something in my voice that wasn't there before. I don't have the terminology, I guess you could say, to describe it accurately, but something has changed. Maybe it sounds... fuller, somehow. I feel differently as well, and I'm not talking about just good health, or an abundance of energy. Lord knows that's true as well, but something else is different. That's all I'm going to say now. I've probably already made a fool of myself..."

Evie leaned over and touched Diana's arm. "You could never do that. Never. And I'll respect your wishes and not bug you too much about this. But please get Jeff to talk to the healer soon. I've heard Fred talking about a detective's curiosity, but I think everyone in this family got a double dose of it."

Smiling at Diana, Evie stood and grabbed Diana's hands. "Come on. Let's go rescue your husband from that workaholic I'm married to, or they'll talk business all night."

Diana laughed as she stood. "I think that 'rescuing' my husband isn't going to work. Those three would talk business past a titty stuck in their mouth if their dicks didn't start calling for attention. Maybe we can find Margaret and break up their little party, though," she said, laughing as they stepped out into the hallway.

A little later when the three women walked in, the men quickly changed the subject, but Diana wasn't fooled. Snuggling in next to her husband on the recliner, she said, "Well, since you guys are talking business, anyway, I have something to say."

"Uh oh," Jeff said.

"Oh, don't be that way," Diana laughed, tickling him in the ribs. "I'm serious. Wadsworth faxed the bill to our accountant today."

"What's the matter? Did the accountant have a stroke about the size of it?" Jeff said, sighing. "We had to have Wadsworth and his Denver buddy in a hurry. Fontaine, wasn't it? Whatever the bill is, it was worth it."

Diana just looked at him and grinned, making him ask again. Everyone else just waited, knowing it was going to be bad.

"Well?" Jeff said.

"Well, what?" Diana said, oh so innocently.

"Doggone it, Baby. How much was it?"

"A dollar."

"A dollar?" Jeff asked incredulously.

"Yep. A dollar."

"A lawyer dropped what he was doing and drove, with his secretary, all the way from Denver to unravel all that mess, and he charged a dollar? Heck, no wonder Billy called. Did he get it straightened out?"

"Well, actually the Denver lawyer sent a bill to Wadsworth in Saint Louis, and he sent the bill to us. Billy had already called Wadsworth in Saint Louis before he faxed a copy of the bill to me with a note attached. It seems that Fontaine, the Denver lawyer, got a kick out of the whole thing, and billed his friend the dollar, which Wadsworth passed on to us..."

"... and got a client for life," Jeff finished. "I knew the guy was smart. So I suppose this is just a good investment for him. Of course you could also interpret it as doing a good deed for a widow... I guess I've stylized lawyers into a very unflattering group since those turkeys tried to screw me in Saint Louis. Now, I'm trying to second-guess this guy. He did act like he was enjoying the whole thing. And his parting comment, something to the effect of don't shit when you get the bill, could be interpreted several ways. The bill could be enormous, or," Jeff laughed, "a dollar. Crap, maybe he is a good guy."

Looking Diana in the eye, he continued, "Good guy or not, he's going to get some more business," Jeff remarked, looking meaningfully at Dave.

"Uh, Boss. I didn't know about the dollar, but well, you told Evie and me to go ahead with the purchase of the other farm. I've already set up things with Fontaine for Tuesday. He told me what he would charge, or his assistant did, and it's reasonable — well for a lawyer. But Jeff, those people really want to meet you. After all, you're the one who is buying their place."

Jeff grinned at Dave's frustration. "Now why should I talk to them? Did I talk to the people that you bought the range equipment from? You and Evie are buying the farm. Why do you need me? You're my project manager," Jeff said, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"Darn it Jeff. This is a whole lot of money. When I mentioned buying the farm to Carla, and that she was going to be in charge of it, thinking you had already told her, she about had a stroke. There for a minute, I wasn't sure whether she was thinking about making love to you or making you dead."

"Yeah, I finally had the brains to call Carla and talk to her and Jessica. I didn't realize that you were going to say anything to her, and was going to surprise her with it. Guess that was a dumb idea."

"I'm glad you talked to her. Sorry that I jumped the gun." Then leaning forward in his seat, looking Jeff in the eye, Dave continued, "Please go by and see the Thompsons. They're good people, just like Carla. They obviously like Evie and me, but they know that it's your money that's buying the place. We sat down and outlined all the things you said, and the things they wanted. They can't believe that someone would just leave them their equipment, barns and forty acres out of their good heart. Objectively, they know it is so, since we're just buying the other property other than the forty acres, but they want to meet the man that is doing that for them..."

Diana broke in. "Dave, obviously what my husband is doing is letting you know that he trusts you," she said looking into her husband's eyes, "but I think Jeff and I both see what you mean. Maybe he's gone a little too far with it." Now speaking to her husband, she said, "We need to go by and meet them, anyway. You've already said that. Let's call them and maybe meet them tomorrow. I'm sure that they're also worried about some big corporation buying their place and maybe messing with Carla, or other farmers or ranchers around there."

Jeff smiled at his wife, rose up and touched his lips to hers for a moment, then said to Dave, "My money, huh? Hummm. I've been thinking about that. Looks like it's time for Frank and Margaret, you and Evie, and Fred too, if he wants in, to form a corporation. We'll also need Carla and Jessica in it as well. We, more or less told Carla that would happen, anyway, about the farm. But maybe we need to sit down with the lawyer about this. Then there won't be any more, 'Jeff's money, ' when you expand something in the corporation. Of course there would have to be a vote on the big things..."

Looking around at the grins on Frank and Margaret's faces and the shocked looks on Dave and Evie's, he said, "I've already told you two that you're family, as has Diana. You've included yourselves when we speak of family, but Frank and Margaret," he said, looking at the suddenly sober couple, "it's time we all acknowledged that you two are part of our family, also. All of us in this room have felt the bond, and it's growing. I don't know what to call it other than family, but the bond is there."

Margaret and Frank looked at each other and nodded. "We're..." Margaret cleared her throat, "flattered, Jeff." Looking at Frank for a second, at his nod, she turned back and continued, "We've talked about this being our second home. Maybe it won't be our second," she said, her voice breaking.

After a moment of silence, "Is it the healer?" Frank asked, startling all of them.

"I don't know," Jeff answered, glancing at Diana. "Frank, I felt... something the first time I barged into your place. And I'm not trying to be melodramatic. It's like we were already relatives that hadn't seen each other in a long time. Maybe even brothers," he said, his voice taking an odd quality. Then when I stuck my foot in my mouth out back with Dave, and he stood up to me — looked me in the eye — I felt it again. I knew he could be trusted — period. Even when you came roaring in here to see that I was sent to the hospital and taken care of... Well, it fits with what I'm trying to say. It would be truly odd, if somehow we are related. But related or not, we're a family." The last words were not spoken loudly, but the statement was no less profound.

Diana could see the sparkle of tears in Margaret's eyes. Getting up, she took Margaret's hand, caught Evie's eye, and the three of them left the room heading for the kitchen.

A few minutes later with the coffee making, the three women sat at the smaller of the kitchen tables. Diana grinned, running a finger in circles on the tabletop, "Every time we refer to this as the 'small' kitchen table, I think of Georgia. " she chuckled, tapping her nail on the shiny surface. "When we were there, we would have thought this table was monstrous. I guess our perspective has changed."

Reaching over, she took each of the women by the hand. "So many things about our lives have changed, not the least of which is that my husband now has seven wives. And I'm totally comfortable with it. Even that isn't a strong enough adjective. I'm overjoyed with it. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life."

Squeezing their hands, then releasing them, she continued, "Now our family has expanded yet again."

"He meant every word of that didn't he?" Margaret said, touching a paper towel to her wet eyes.

"Just as sure as daylight and dark," Diana said looking her in the eye.

"And if he means this so literally, how do you feel about it?" Margaret asked.

"Well, I'm still the boss bitch," Diana tried to tease, but it fell flat. Taking Margaret's hand again, she sobered and said, "I knew it before he did. I don't know why, or what's happening, but I suspect my Alpha Male has something to do with it. But stop and think," she said, looking first at Margaret, then at Evie. "We each have a rather unique mate. Oh, Frank got a head start when he inherited his father's business, but look what his father did in his shortened lifetime. From nothing to that large corporation."

Getting up to get the coffee pot now that the maker had finished, she poured for the women, and continued, "Then Frank came along and expanded the company to gigantic proportions."

Putting the coffee pot back on the warmer, she sat back down. "And you Evie," she said, looking at her other friend, "Your mate and yourself, of course, took his dad's company and expanded it many fold, if I remember correctly from what you've told me. Then he built this fabulous building that's beyond anything I could ever imagine before I came here. Both of your men," she said, catching Evie's and Margaret's eyes, "seem to be able to hire, or attract people that are loyal and will bust their asses, to be crude, for your mates. And somehow your mates have managed to tie up with my Alpha Male."

Diana put half and half into her coffee, then stirred sweetener in. Putting the spoon down, she glanced up at the still-quiet women, "Perhaps there's more than one Alpha Male in this house right now," she said, startling her friends. "I know that what Jeff says about family is right, other than the terminology may be a little off. Whatever it is, I think we've all felt it. My sister-wives and I have talked about it, but not specifically using the word 'family.'

"Whatever it is, we've become far closer than just 'friends' in a relatively short period of time. Jeff hasn't run much lately, with everything that's been going on, but I imagine he will, either early tomorrow morning, or if not, then certainly Sunday morning. I'm going to ask him to try and explore the things we've been discussing, with the healer. He says the free association phase of his run helps him to understand and 'converse' with the healer. It's time we found out what she knows about our situation."

-------

Bill Madison still hadn't carried his bags to his suite. After dinner, he had relaxed in the living room, occasionally joining in the conversation, but mostly just staring at the fire in the fireplace and thinking. The night outside had a little bite in it, and Helen had lowered the thermostat in the giant living room when she and the girls had laid the wood for the fire. Wainwright had designed the living room's heating system so that this could easily be done. Nothing like a roaring fire in a great fireplace with the room a bit chilly.

Wainwright's engineers had developed a method that allowed very little excess heat to escape the chimney, and the combustion of the wood was far beyond what a normal fireplace could produce, because of oxygen enriched air and a system similar to the catalytic converter on an automobile. The heat drawn off the fireplace's convoluted chimney as it went through the three floors and the attic was re-circulated into the normal heating system of the house. A wood fire in the retreat was not the waste of most of the heat that is common to fireplaces in general.

The system was now being sold for high-end homes through one of Wainwright's satellite companies. It wasn't cheap to build or to buy, but the fireplaces were selling to people who didn't have to worry about costs of such things.

Captain Madison stood when he realized that he had been nodding off. Turning to the others, he said, "I guess this week has worn me out. Sorry to be such a dud on a Friday night. If you don't mind, I think I'll just catch up on my sleep tonight."

Jeff chuckled. "I was beginning to worry about you getting a crick in your neck sitting there. Of course we don't mind. Heck you have to work for a living. We've just been sitting here building air castles, as in hot air," he laughed. "See you at breakfast — oh, I almost forgot. We moved you into the other wing right across from Kathy and your daughter. We're going to do some renovation in the wing you stayed in last weekend. We put a note on the door so you wouldn't have any problem finding the suite."

"Okay, thanks Jeff. Mr. Wainwright, Dave, I'll see you in the morning."

As the men bid him good night, Bill picked up his bags and left. After Dave was sure that Bill was out of earshot, he said, "He's going to shit when he sees that suite."

"Yeah, he is, and I know that you and your crews have busted your asses to get both of those suites done this week..."

Dave laughed. "Heck, it's your money, Boss. And actually, I had little to do with it. You had me tied up on something else, like silos, equipment and a farm. That little woman of mine was so tired that she slept all the way up the mountain. She hadn't run a loader in a while. Looks easy until you go forward, raise the bucket when it's full, back up, turn, go where you want to dump it, etc. Repeat the process a few thousand times and it dawns on you that you're too tired to climb down out of the cab. Plus it's monotonous, but too complicated to be able to have your mind on something else while you do it. You've got to be right there mentally as well as physically."

"Crap, now you're making me feel guilty."

"Bullshit. If you get to feeling guilty, just look at Carla's and Jessica's faces. That will change your mind. Those women think you were made and handed down by God Himself. Besides, the one who really got thrown in the bucket of doo was Korey. Last Monday when I told the poor guy that those two suites had to be finished by Friday night, he looked shell-shocked, and that was before he started on them.

"But he had the two best crews we had, and most of the structural work was just in the shower and whirlpool areas. Diana and your other wives already had most of the fixtures shipped in. We're paying a lot of overtime this week, so the hit on your bank account is going to be pretty steep."

Jeff grinned, "It will all be worth it when that phone rings. He should be about there by now. When it rings, put it on the speaker so we can all hear it."

A minute or two later, they sat listening to Bill stammer about his suite and the note that he had read.

"But Jeff you can't..."

"We already did."

"But the note says that no one else will use this suite. That it's mine."

"So?"

"Well, crap Jeff. I can only come down on the weekends now and then. This place is fabulous. You can't just reserve it for me. And this leather case in the basket... I don't know who picked it out, but..."

"Diana and my other wives. I'm not any good at buying presents. You'll have to talk to them about that. And they, Evie and Dave decided on your suite, so no use in thanking me. They did it."

"Jeff, I'm flattered. And as you well know, this came at a good time for me. I will, indeed, thank your wives. And Dave, if you're still there. I really appreciate it. I'll thank Evie when I see her. But Jeff, this had to cost a whole lot of money, and it's your money that bought it. And I want you to know that I really appreciate it, particularly right now — more than you could know."

Jeff chuckled, happy that Madison could get his mind off his private life for a few minutes. "Why don't you get a book out of the library, if you don't have one with you, and sit in that new whirlpool for an hour or so. Might do wonders for that fatigue you have."

"Uh, Jeff, that thing's big enough to go swimming in. I know that you don't... Uh, at home it would cost a ton to just fill up a few times a month..."

"Water's free around here. There are two wells on the place, either of which would probably supply Winter Park. The wind generators heat the water, so if you filled the thing with hot water a hundred times a month, you wouldn't cost me a dime, thanks to the guy you fly around all the time," he said, grinning at Wainwright.

Bill chuckled, "All right, you just talked me into it. I brought a book with me, and reading a good murder mystery just might get my mind off feeling sorry for myself. Thanks Jeff. I'll thank the others personally in the morning. See you." And he hung up.

When Wainwright hung the phone up, Dave was smiling from ear to ear as he turned to Jeff. "I wish that Korey could have heard that. I imagine that he's about as tired as Bill right now."

"Make sure his paycheck brightens his spirit, then," Jeff laughed. "My wives and I discussed this when they brought it up. We knew it was going to cost."

Jeff pushed the recliner back, happy that, somehow, his life had changed enough so that he could help people. Speaking of helping people,  he thought, how in the heck am I going to get into Bill's room with the healer without that combat pilot realizing I'm in there. I know it's been a long time since he flew an F14, but I'll bet he still sleeps light as a cat. He probably knows just about everything that Kathy is doing while he's supposedly taking a nap in that pilot's seat next to her. As soon as I open that door, he's going to know I'm there. My having oiled the hinges on both doors will keep the sound down, but I'll bet he will sense me, anyway. Shit! I've had five days to think about this and I still haven't come up with anything.

He closed his eyes and drifted, faintly aware of his friends talking about the coming winter.



-------

Chapter 41

While Jeff lay in the recliner in the living room dozing, and Frank and Dave shot the bull by the fire, Jeff's young wives had changed their minds about showing the rest of the suite to Kathy and Linda. Instead, they had elected to suggest that the two try out their whirlpool, or relax in their new suite. There was more than a little matchmaking going on and the general consensus was that Kathy had a better chance with Bill if she and Linda's relationship deepened.

Evie walked into the game room where Jeff's four young wives were in a huddle. "Okay, what's going on?" she teased. "Suddenly the four of you suggest that Kathy and Linda try out their new whirlpool, or 'you might just want to be alone to get used to your new suite.' Wasn't that the way you worded it?"

The girls all turned as one, smiling with their Cheshire grins.

"Oh, we did something else," Arlene, the lead conspirator, said.

"Well, what?" Evie finally gave up and asked when they obviously weren't going to tell until she did so.

"We stole the top to Linda's bikini," Jennie said, as if that explained everything.

"Uh, so now she can't go swimming in the pool," Evie said, knowing that wasn't the answer.

"Now," Melissa said, almost jumping up and down with enthusiasm, "they'll have to get in the whirlpool nude."

"So, big deal. Both of them are female. They've seen boobs before," Evie said, a slight frown on her face. Then it hit her. "Oh..."

"Yeah," Arlene interrupted, "it might not make a bit of difference. But we suspect that since they only know each other from the plane and whatever interaction they've had when they were in hotels together, we doubt that they've taken a bath together. So we suspect that both of them will wear a bikini when they sit in the whirlpool. Kathy might not want to set a 'bad' example for Linda, and Linda being a little shy around Kathy..."

"Oh, we know that Linda takes showers around other girls at school, but Kathy is older. We suspect that they'll feel a little uncomfortable around each other. When Linda can't find her top, something will have to change."

Evie grinned at them. "Well, they could just decide to not use the whirlpool since Linda can't find her top, or... use the whirlpool separately."

"But not using it would be an insult to us after spending all that money to refurbish the suite," Ann said with a grin. "And we don't think they'll go for the second option. It would make them look too — well, you know."

"And it's just a wee bit intimate when you're sitting in that water with your tits floating for the other person to see," Jennie said.

"So what can I do to help," Evie said pulling up a chair.

-------

Linda hung up all her clothes, then turned the bag upside down. I know I put both parts of my bikini in my bag. I know I did. Frustrated, she looked inside all her clothes, thinking the top had somehow become entangled with her other clothing and was clinging to the inside of something. No luck.

Now what do I do? Kathy's filling the whirlpool and if I go in there and say I can't sit in the tub with her, she's going to think I'm just a little girl. I saw her put her bikini on the bed, so she's obviously going to wear it for the same reason I was going to wear mine. Except, she's prettier than I am, so she's probably wearing it so she doesn't hurt my feelings. I'll just tell her that I've changed my mind.

Stepping out of her bedroom, Linda met Kathy coming toward her wearing her bikini. Oh, wow. She looks good. Now what do I do? Don't cry. She'll think you're a little kid for sure.

"You're not ready?" Kathy said as she realized that Linda hadn't put on her bikini.

Deciding to be honest about it, Linda answered. "Well, I... can't find the top to my bikini. I know I put both pieces in, but obviously I didn't."

"So. I really didn't want to wear this thing, anyway," Kathy said, turning back to her bedroom while reaching behind her to pull the bow on her top. "Come on. Hurry up. The Jacuzzi is big enough to swim in," she finished disappearing toward the bath.

Linda hurried back into her bedroom and took her clothes off. I shower in front of girls all the time. We laugh and cut up together while we do it. I don't think anything about it, usually. But Kathy is a woman. A beautiful woman. Steeling herself, she marched out of her bedroom toward the whirlpool. I'm not going to sit in my room like a little kid. She'll just have to laugh if she wants to. Taking a breath, focusing, trying desperately to keep her hands away from her groin and boobs and appear relaxed, she held her shoulders back and walked into the bath area.

Kathy, already sitting in the swirling water getting ready to pour bubble bath in, looked up as Linda walked in. Oh, crap. She's beautiful. I feel like a cow beside her. Her breasts are so perky that I want to cry when I look in that mirror and see mine.

"I waited to put the bubble bath in. Do you want to use yours or mine?"

"Either..." Linda said, but it didn't sound right, even to her. "Either one is just fine with me," she tried again after clearing her throat, then stepped daintily into the tub.

Linda walked down the short steps and sat on one of the underwater seats just as Kathy was doing.

"You're beautiful," Kathy said before she realized it. Then, "Uh, don't take that wrong. It was an honest compliment. I'm not into girls," she finished, knowing that she was blushing by the heat in her face.

"You really mean that about me... being beautiful, don't you?" Linda said, staring back at Kathy.

"Well, sure I do. I'm surprised that your dad hasn't had to do something drastic to the boys around your house. You're going to make some guy very, very happy one of these days."

"No one has even asked me for a date," Linda said, the sadness in her voice obvious.

"Linda, I'm not that experienced, even though I'm twenty-six, but sometimes boys, particularly the nice boys, are intimidated by a pretty girl, especially when the boys are your age. One of them will get enough gumption one of these days, then they'll be lining up to ask you out."

"Do you really think I'm pretty? I mean... I didn't want to come in here nude because you're so beautiful, and I feel like the ugly duckling."

"Baby, if we both walked into a room full of guys, they wouldn't even know I was there after they saw you."

"Boy, as my dad would say, 'it's getting deep in here, '" she said, giggling, "and I'm not talking about the water."

"Okay," Kathy laughed, "Are we just going to sit here staring at each other's boobs, or are you going to pour the bubble bath in?" Kathy finished, handing Linda the bottle.

Laughing, Linda grabbed the bubble bath and poured some near one of the jets. Putting the cap back on as the wonderful smell rose with the bubbles, she put the bottle on the side and turned back to Kathy. "Uh, Kathy. I... don't have anybody to talk to much any more," she hesitantly said as she cupped a handful of bubbles, then blew gently into them. "I mean... my best friend moved out of state. Mother isn't around any more, and even when she was for the last year or so, she hardly talked to me at all. I don't have any school friends close by, and my casual pals that I hung around with are dating, and don't have much time for me anymore. Since I've changed schools... everybody tells me something different about sex. Well, it seems that way. Now, I find out that Mr. Matthews has seven wives."

Kathy picked up a bath sponge and tossed it to Linda, then got one for herself.

Linda, sliding down farther in the water, hesitated, absently swirling the sponge around. "What do you think about the Matthews? I mean, they seem nice, but..."

To give herself time to think, Kathy turned to the controls and upped the pressure on the jets. Staring into the bubbles, she said, "They have been very nice to me. They have gone out of their way to treat me like a person, not a servant, as I've been treated from time to time by some of the people we've had on the plane. Particularly that... senator."

Linda, now running the sponge over her shoulders and neck, looked over at Kathy. "I know they spent a lot of time making that video for me. After we did ours for our class presentation, well... theirs made ours look like something kids would do, like I said..." Laughing, she continued, "but they didn't have to do that for me. I know they did it to make me feel a little better because of Mother, but still... Then they give us this beautiful suite and that basket full of stuff. I don't even know them. How could they do that for me?"

Kathy moved a little and discovered that one of the jets wasn't that far from her groin. Slowly, she inched closer. "I'm just as flabbergasted as you are," she said, using the word because her mother used to like it, "and remember, they didn't have to do anything for me, either. But, then again, Mr. Wainwright reimbursed me for my training, paid off all my bills, and gave me a tremendous bonus. I guess there are some nice rich people in this world, and we happen to know some of them."

Kathy knew what was coming when Linda opened her mouth to ask, as Linda focused on Kathy's face and said, "What do you think about their... marriage?"

Even though Kathy had been dreading the question, she found herself saying, "When they added Dr. Boswell to their marriage, it was the most beautiful wedding I have ever seen. I was so thrilled that I nearly cried my eyes out."

"I know that Dad went to a wedding, but tell me about it, please."

Kathy spent the next ten minutes describing everything she could remember about the wedding, in detail, answering a number of questions from Linda about various things that happened during the event and wanting to know what Kathy thought about them.

"But how can Mr. Matthews... uh, I mean."

Kathy just glanced away and let Linda stumble on, wondering how in the world she would answer, knowing that she wasn't sure, herself.

"... I mean, well, this friend of mine said that this boy she went out with was going to do it to her and he... was going to put it in her, but when he touched her it... squirted. And he couldn't get it stiff again," she finished, blushing furiously. "How can Mr. Matthews? I mean, do they all sleep with him? No, that can't be. They couldn't all fit into the same bed. Do you suppose they have separate bedrooms and he just... visits another wife each night?"

Kathy smiled back at the teenager. "They showed me their suite. Their bedroom is monstrous, and their bed is unbelievable. It's obvious that they all sleep together."

"But how could one guy..."

"Baby, I'm no expert at this. I've had one... affair; I guess you could call it. I fell for this guy at college. I was too dumb and inexperienced to realize that all he wanted me for was convenient sex. I thought it was going to be wonderful, but even though I kept thinking it would get better, it didn't. But he only went one time. Then he didn't want anything to do with me until the next day. Just before graduation, he told me it was over. After graduation, he left for California and his family, I suppose."

Hesitating a moment, staring into space, she eventually continued, "I was devastated. But now, I realize that his leaving was the best thing that could have happened to me. I would have married him, and looking back, I now realize that he didn't care crap for me. He surely couldn't have taken care of seven women," she laughed, amazed that she could laugh a little about experiences that had hurt so badly at graduation.

Both embarrassed, they busied bathing themselves. As Kathy leaned back and unconsciously let her legs spread apart, the jet of water hit her pussy. "Oh, my," she whispered.

Sliding just a little forward, she tensed trying to act normal as she centered herself on the jet, then quickly moved as the sensation on her clit became too intense. Sitting up straighter to move away from the jet, she glanced at Linda, who was looking at her strangely. Glancing back at the control panel, she realized what some of the little lights meant. Trying to do it casually, she reached over and pressed the bottom to scroll around to Linda's seat control, then activated her "personal" jet.

Linda squeaked, looked down at the water, trying to see through the bubbles, then back at Kathy.

Kathy couldn't help it, she giggled, then when she tried to quit, the giggles threatened to get out of hand. Soon, Linda joined her, but as she did, she slid a little down in the seat, changing the angle of her body with that of the jet. The giggle turned into another sound as she hastily sat back upright.

"Looks like our whirlpool, Jacuzzi, or whatever this is has some... uh, hidden amenities," Linda said, laughing but embarrassed beyond measure.

"Maybe we shouldn't..." Linda started as she stood up, ready to get out of the water.

"I'm sorry," Kathy quickly said, grabbing Linda's hand, then turning to shut her jet off. "Please stay. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was just playing."

Startling both of them, Linda slumped down in the seat next to Kathy and began to cry. "I don't know what's wrong with me. We've played around in the shower at school. One second things are funny, and the next, I'm crying my eyes out," she said trying to wipe her eyes with a bubble-covered hand."

"Linda, I'm sorry. You're fifteen; I should never have done that to you. I didn't think."

"Now you're doing it. I am not a little girl. I'm just so mixed up..."

Kathy grabbed a washcloth from a stack nearby and wiped at Linda's face. "Does the bubble bath hurt your eyes?" she asked, trying to blot the bubbles from around Linda's eyes.

"No," Linda sniffed, taking the cloth from Kathy and wiping her own face. "I know I'm acting like a kid. But Mother won't even talk to me. She just acts strange. I can't believe she's fucking around on my dad. He's the greatest, and he and my mom used to be so close, I guess you would say. Now she just snarls at him — and me." Her broken voice turned into uncontrollable sobs as Kathy grabbed her, pulling the teen toward her, cuddling her in her arms.

Patting Linda on the back, the pats turning into a slow stroking, Kathy kept quietly saying, "It will be all right. It will be all right. Everything will work out. Your dad loves you. I love you. It will be all right," as Linda hung on tighter and tighter.

-------

Much later with Kathy in bed reading, Linda had tried to sleep, but couldn't get her mind off her mother. Sighing, she got up and put her jeans and top back on. Slipping on a pair of sneakers, she wandered out into the hallway thinking vaguely about getting a glass of milk from the kitchen. Taking a wrong turn, she walked in that direction for awhile before meeting Evie coming toward her.

"I was going to the kitchen to get a glass of milk, but I think I'm going the wrong way," she said as Evie neared.

Surprising Linda, Evie hugged her. "Just keep going the way you are, and listen carefully," she said, an unfathomable expression on her face. "You'll figure it out."

Evie walked on without another word. Linda looked down the hall the way she had been going, then back at Evie as she walked away. I'm almost certain that I'm going in the wrong direction. Why would she say that? Why "listen carefully?" Puzzled, hesitating a moment, she shrugged and went on. Maybe this is the right direction after all.

A little farther, a door was standing partway open and she could hear the sound of guitar music. It sounded live, and not a recording. As she looked inside the sitting room (a much smaller version of the living room on the other end of the building), she saw Mr. Henson, the contractor, playing an unusual-sounding guitar. Not wanting to interrupt, but enthralled with the music, she stood by the doorway, listening.

When the second piece ended, Dave said, "Come on in Linda. I won't bite. Well, at least, not too hard," he said laughing.

When she tentatively entered, he continued, "Oh, well. I guess that little phrase is about worn out."

When Linda grinned at him, he motioned to a chair near him. "Do you play?"

"No," she said, shaking her head as she sat down, somehow feeling tongue-tied.

"Do you like the sound of the twelve-string?" Dave asked, reaching for his almost-empty cup of coffee.

Noticing the insulated carafe on a nearby table, Linda jumped up and took the couple of steps to reach it. "Would you like some more?" she asked, fighting not to blush, wondering why she felt so clumsy.

Smiling, Dave held his cup out. "Yeah, thanks. That would be nice."

Linda picked up the carafe, deciphered the mechanism, took Dave's cup and carefully filled it. Well, at least I didn't spill any. Why am I so nervous?

Handing the cup back to him, she set the carafe on the table. As she turned back toward her seat, Dave began to play again. Before Linda realized it, she had settled at his feet, watching his hands on the strings, listening to the chiming of the twelve-string, her head almost level with the guitar.

When he finished the song, Dave took a sip of his coffee. "Do you like the sound of the twelve-string?" he asked again.

"Uh huh. I never realized that I liked that... Is it called an acoustic guitar?"

"You got it in one. Although it does have an amp, but I'm not using it right now."

"But it sounds different — and all those strings..."

Chuckling, Dave pointed with his pick. "Notice that 'all those strings' are just six pairs of strings. A six-string — named that for obvious reasons — plays the same. Here I pick the strings just like I would with a regular six-string, but since the string pairs are so close together, I actually hit two strings instead of one. If you just look away from it and pick it just like you would a six-string, you don't even notice that you're hitting two strings each time, instead of one. The same thing for my left hand as I form the chords."

Dave pulled the pick slowly across the strings, sounding each pair separately. "Hand me that other guitar, please," he said, standing the twelve-string in its stand.

Linda came to her knees, turned and carefully took the other guitar from its stand and handed it to Dave.

"Now watch the pick and listen to the difference. Dave pulled the pick down across the six strings, sounding each separately with a C chord as he had done with the twelve-string.

"Hear the difference?" he asked, grinning.

"Oh, yeah. The twelve-string sounds... fuller. But the six-string sounds really nice, too."

"This is just my opinion, now, but to me a twelve-string can't be beaten on some music. Other music sounds terrible on it. A six-string sounds nice on everything, if it's played correctly for the song, but sometimes all that ringing of the twelve-string that sounds so good on some music, gets overbearing on other songs. Some guitarists won't play a twelve-string at all. They hate them. But to me, they can produce a sweet sound if you take care to play them the way they should be played."

"I knew as soon as I heard the guitar that whoever was playing was the person who played the background music for my video. How can you play like that? I watched you from the door. You seem so relaxed, like you were half-asleep, or something. But you knew that I was at the door."

Dave grinned at her and picked up his coffee cup, taking another sip. "Sometimes I close my eyes when I'm... listening to the guitar. I'm concentrating on how the music feels; what I need to do to make it more expressive. To make it feel right. Does that make any sense?"

"I guess. I wanted to get closer to the music when I was standing in the hallway, but I didn't want to interrupt."

"Linda, I'm sorry," Dave suddenly said putting the guitar on its stand and getting up, quickly setting his cup on the table. "Would you like something to drink? There's a small fridge over in the corner. I guess Jeff's... wives, or mine, uh, keep it stocked with a variety of soft drinks. What can I get for you?"

Looking up at him, Linda said, a smile on her face. "I know they're his wives," she said. "I'm not a little girl. And I can get..."

"Nonsense," Dave said, already halfway to the refrigerator.

"Uh, something without caffeine, I guess, if you have it. The reason I was up was because I couldn't sleep."

Opening the refrigerator, he looked inside and said, "There's grape and orange. They're the only ones without caffeine that I see."

"Orange would be fine."

A moment later, he broke the seal on the lid and unscrewed it part way before handing the drink to her. Sitting down, he took another sip of coffee before retrieving the six-string. "What would you like to hear?"

Linda smiled back at him. "I don't know. I've never listened to someone play a guitar before. I mean, I listen to music all the time, but it's not the kind of music that you have been playing... Uh, just play anything."

Dave played for a while, then as he finished his coffee and replaced the cup on the table, he looked at the almost enraptured girl sitting in front of him. Seeing women, especially young women, enthralled with a person in a band wasn't that unusual, but seeing her so obviously taken with the music was more. Looking down at her, trying to look her in the eyes and not let his vision drift to her breasts that seemed to defy gravity, he realized that he was feeling guilty.

Evie's breasts are beautiful,  he thought. And I certainly don't need to be looking at Madison's daughter. He would probably kick my ass if he saw me doing that, and I know that it would hurt Evie. But I don't want to end this and get up and leave. This little... uh, girl/woman sitting at my feet has had an awful hard time lately. I'll bet she couldn't sleep for thinking about her mother. I... 

"Could you teach me to play?"

"Uh... Yeah, sure." That's just what I need. To spend hours and hours with this woman-child as close as I would have to be to teach her to play. Madison would kill me. Evie would kill me. My damn dick would get hard. Oh, shit. It is getting hard. "Uh, with your dad's permission. But you know, of course, that for most people, it takes quite a while to even get the basics. Most of us that play continue to learn the rest of our lives. You never learn it all."

"Oh, I don't expect to be as good as you. But I don't think there's anything that I ever wanted more. Except maybe get my mom to..."

"I'm sorry about that, Linda. Truly sorry. I wish I could say something that would help. But with your dad's permission, I'll certainly teach you to play. Your dad might be more comfortable with Evie teaching you, though."

"You mean she plays guitar, too?"

"We both play several instruments. She likes piano and keyboard better, but she darn sure knows her way around a guitar."

Dave could see the change in Linda's face as soon as he mentioned Evie teaching her.

"I'm sorry I just blurted out that about you teaching me to play. Heck, I don't know what I was thinking. You must charge tons of money to teach people to play. I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Whoa. You thought you picked up on something that actually doesn't exist. I don't teach anyone to play. Oh, I've taught several people the basics, but Evie and I are generally too busy to set up some kind of school, if that's what you're thinking. But I would be flattered to teach you to play. The reason I mentioned my wife was because, well, you're what — sixteen? And I'm a man. Your father might not approve of us spending that amount of time together."

Linda's face lit when she understood his reluctance. "Oh, Dad wouldn't mind. I think he would be tickled to have me be interested in anything right now. I've cried on his shoulder so much that he's probably desperate. But I still shouldn't have asked. I know you're busy..."

Dave held up his hand for her to stop. "I hear that Mr. Wainwright and Margaret are going to be here a lot on the weekends, so I guess that means that you will be, also. I'm off on the weekends, and obviously, Evie and I live here. So there will be time. And again, I would love to... when your father says it's okay."

Seeing that Dave was a little uncomfortable around her and having caught him glancing at her breasts, she sat up straighter. "I'll ask Dad, and have him tell you," she said, with insight beyond her years. "But could you show me a little now?"

"Oh, sure," Dave said, handing her the six-string and picking up the twelve-string. "Let's do a first position C chord. We won't do a full C, but it sounds almost as good with just the first four strings. It makes the chord simple to do. Just press your index finger here, and your middle finger here. Here's a pick. Hold it like this. Now just drag the pick across the bottom four strings starting with the one your middle finger is on..."

Evie stood just outside the door, listening, a smile on her face. Quietly, she walked away.

A little later, Evie met Bill Madison coming out of Linda and Kathy's suite. "Have you seen Linda? She didn't answer her phone, and she's not in her bedroom. Kathy said she said something about going to sleep early, but Linda isn't there now."

"Yeah, I know where she is," Evie said. "Come on over to our apartment. I've got a fresh-baked cake that I need to try out on somebody," she kidded.

"That sounds good to me," Bill said, smiling. "I need to ask Dave something, anyway."

Inside, Evie motioned to the kitchen table. "Let's just sit in the kitchen, if that's alright with you."

"Oh, sure," Bill said, pulling out a chair and sitting down as she headed toward a counter. "Where's Dave?"

"Oh, I'll tell you about that in a minute. First let me get the cake," she said, taking the cake keeper over to the table and setting the lid aside. Opening the silverware drawer, she got a cake knife and forks. "It's just a simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting. Nothing special, but my husband likes them."

"It looks great to me. Got any milk to go with it?"

"You bet," she said, putting plates on the table and going to the fridge. "And I'll start some coffee, also. I guess I drink far too much of it, but..."

Bill chuckled as she put the milk on the table, then shortly, two glasses. "I doubt if you drink more than I do. Particularly if we're flying a lot."

"Here, I'll do that," Madison said, as he reached for the milk.

"Okay, let me get the coffee started. The maker is ready to go. I had already set it up," she said pouring water in from an already-full pitcher, and flipping the switch.

Shortly they were eating their cake. "This is delicious," Bill said.

"It's just cake mix, but I make the icing myself. My husband doesn't like 'fancy' cakes, as he calls them."

"I can see why," Madison said, looking at her. "Now where is my daughter? Unless I miss my guess, you know where she is."

"Oh," Evie said, grinning in spite of herself. "She's sitting at my husband's feet, learning to play a guitar in one of the sitting rooms down the hall. It has a hardwood floor, and wood paneling. The acoustics are better than our living room here in the apartment, so we use it a lot."

As a slight frown crossed Bill's face, Evie hastened to add. "I heard Dave tell her that he would show her a few things, but she would have to have your consent before he would spend time with her."

Madison took another bite of cake, then a swallow of milk. "Does your husband teach often?"

"Bill, I'm obviously prejudiced, since he's the man I love, but even so, I can say with absolute certainty that Dave is the best guitarist that I've ever heard. No, he doesn't have a school, and with very few exceptions, he doesn't teach. He and I have spent the last years swamped with work for our company. We use music to relax, and well — it's the way we met."

Cutting Madison another piece of cake, she put it on his plate despite his protests. "I heard Linda ask him to teach her to play. And..."

"... Under the circumstances, you thought it would be a good idea," he finished.

Bill looked at Evie for a moment, then sighed. "My daughter is taking this harder than I had hoped. One minute, she's laughing and having a great time, the next, she's crying and burying her head against my chest. She's very impressionable right now..."

"My husband isn't exactly a rapist," Evie said, with a little more vehemence than she meant to show.

Madison sat up straighter, and hastily said, "Look, I didn't mean to imply anything. And my wording wasn't as tactful as it should have been. Please forgive me. I know I'm being overprotective, but your husband is a good-looking guy, and she's been asking me about sex. Oh, crap..."

Taking a sip of her milk, Evie looked at Madison. Got you on the defensive now,  she thought. "Well, let's see. With everything else that's happened in her world, now she's in a home with a guy that has seven wives. Several of which are hardly older than she is. I guess that could make a father a little antsy. And I doubt if a father ever really wants to think of his daughter in relation to sex? That someday soon she'll be having sex. Or that she's becoming a young woman. Then again, Jeff is married to his daughter..."

"Where is this conversation going?" Madison said, pushing the empty plate back and reaching for his milk.

"Nowhere," Evie said, brightly. "I just wanted you to realize that learning to play the guitar will, perhaps, take her mind off what's happening with her mother for a time, and if she should flirt, or become a bit infatuated with my husband, so what? There isn't a nicer man on this planet, as far as I'm concerned. No harm will come to Linda from him. That I can promise you. And the two of them spending time together with him teaching her to play the guitar, might be good for both of them. He's been under a lot of stress lately, and when I looked in that door a while ago, they were both enjoying themselves."

"Look, Evie, I really don't have a problem with Dave teaching her to play. Now that I've thought about it a little, it sounds like a great idea. Probably just what she needs. I know I'm being overprotective, but darnit, that's my little girl. I know she's growing up, and one day she'll be married, but I guess I want to keep her a little girl as long as I can. I like Mr. Matthews, uh, Jeff, and all his... wives, but I guess the moral issues, and Linda being here..."

"There's not a more moral group of people, anywhere," Evie said, her temper rising. "Our society frowns on it right now. But many societies throughout history have seen plural marriage as part of the norm. Now that we're modern, we suddenly decide that there is something wrong with them. Check out Jeff's wives and then tell me there is something wrong with their marriage, or the way they treat each other. Jeff loves every one of those women. Would die for them if necessary, and they for him. They even say their blessing for their food. It shamed Dave and me because we had gotten out of the habit."

"So you don't see anything wrong with a man having multiple wives?"

Evie hesitated for a second. My gosh, I can't believe that I'm arguing this side of it. "Uh, I'm not saying it is something that I would do," she said, then her voice strengthening, "but I've been where you are in this discussion not too long ago. I guess the Matthews have convinced me without me even realizing it," she finished, wondering.

Just as Madison started to respond, Dave and Linda came into the kitchen. Stopping in front of her dad, Linda said, motioning, "Make a lap. I need to talk to you."

Bill slid his chair back a little from the table and Linda plopped down. "Dave and I have been playing the guitar," she said, then laughing. "Well, Dave has been playing and I've been making my fingers sore."

Holding her left hand up and wiggling her reddened fingertips in front of her father's face, she continued. "I asked Dave to teach me to play the guitar, but he said I would have to get your permission."

"You mean, Mr. Henson, don't you?" Bill admonished.

"No, Dad. He insisted that I call him Dave. He said that no one calls him Mr. Henson."

"Nevertheless, Honey..."

"I really don't like to be called, 'Mr., '" Dave said, winking at Bill to take the sting out of his words.

Looking at Dave for a moment, Bill finally said, "You're a busy man..."

"I have plenty of time on the weekends. Diana has limited me to forty hours per week, and since we've worked extra with Carla's farm, both Jeff and Diana have already given Evie and me a lecture about taking a couple of days off. So I have plenty of time."

Bill knew when he was whipped. "Okay, but please promise me that you won't let this interfere with anything else you need to do."

"It's a deal," Dave laughed. Then catching Evie's eye and giving an almost imperceptible nod to the six-string in its case that Linda had leaned against the wall, he smiled when Evie winked back at him and nodded.

Hugging his daughter, who was still sitting in his lap, Bill said to her, "We'll get Dave's recommendation and pick up a guitar for you sometime during the week..."

Dave cleared his throat, exaggerating the sound. "Do you like the six-string you were playing?" he asked Linda.

"What's not to like?" Linda answered, then getting a hint, she sat up straighter.

"Then it's yours," Dave said.

"You can't do that," Linda hissed. "That's an expensive guitar. I would drop it, or scratch it or something..."

"Nonsense," Evie broke in. "We want you to have it. Besides, a cheap guitar is hard to fret. Your fingers will love that one when they get sore."

Madison started to object, but when he looked at Dave who was shaking his head slightly, the pilot just turned back to his daughter and said, "I guess you need to tell these people thank you."

Linda jumped up and grabbed Dave in a hug. "Thank you so much. I promise, I'll do my best, and I'll take good care of the guitar." Going around the table to Evie, Linda leaned over and hugged her, as well. "Thank you. It's a beautiful guitar."

Evie kissed her on the cheek, and Linda hurried over to the guitar. Carefully taking it out of its case, she handed it to her father. When he had inspected it, she took the guitar back, put the strap across her shoulder and strummed a C chord, then changed to an F, then a G. All the simplified version, of course. The C and G chords were clear, but the F buzzed a little, although she managed the changes without losing the slow rhythm.

Evie, turning to Bill as Dave and Linda talked about the chords, quietly said, "That's better than you realize after only thirty minutes. She's already picking up muscle memory to change chords that quickly."

Putting the guitar back into its case, Linda looked at her father and said, "Dave was telling me about this music festival that they go to on the weekends. He asked me if I wanted to go. Can I go with them, Dad?"

"Oh, that's a great idea," Evie said. "She'll love it, Bill."

"Uh, where is this festival?"

"It's out in the country north of Denver. It takes a little over two hours to get there. It's tomorrow night," Evie said, getting out coffee cups, glasses and plates. "We go there to play and have fun. It's family oriented. No booze or anything like that."

Evie cut the cake as Dave sat down at the table. "That cake looks good," Linda said as she slid her plate over to Evie.

"Do you want milk, or coffee?" she asked her husband.

"Both," he said, grinning. "The milk with the cake, and the coffee to wake me up."

"I don't like coffee much," Linda said, pouring milk for herself.

"If you stay around here, that might change," Evie said, kidding her.

Linda grimaced, but grinned at Evie. Then to her dad, "Can I go?"

"You two play at the festival, don't you?" Bill asked.

"Yeah," Dave said, "But she can sit on the front row. She won't be far from us. And one of us can sit with her, as far as that is concerned. She'll be right with us."

Bill looked at his daughter, her face making it clear how much she wanted to go. "Okay, but make sure that you don't..."

"Daddeee, you know that I won't be a bother to them. Thank you. Thank you. I really want to do this," she finished, hugging her father.

When they finished their cake, the men adjourned to the living room while Evie and Linda cleaned up the few dishes.

As Dave and Bill walked into the living room of Dave and Evie's apartment, the pilot stopped to look around. "You two are really into music," he said motioning to the various instruments sitting about the room on their stands. Mandolins, guitars, violins, and banjoes set against one wall, while a large keyboard was positioned next to a beautiful piano. Several other closed cases lay near the wall, and from the size and configuration, Bill suspected they contained smaller keyboards.

Dave motioned to a seat, which Bill took. Dave put the tray with coffee and cups on the table. Pouring coffee for both of them, he moved cream and sugar closer to Bill's side of the table. Seeing Bill checking out the instruments, Dave said, "We each had instruments that our families had bought us before we were married. We've added to that since then. We spend very little on other activities. We both like to read, and that isn't expensive. And even entrance to the festival is free, since we play."

Taking a moment to fix his coffee, he continued after taking a sip. "We've moved most of our possessions up here from our home. I think we're going to rent it to one of our foremen. This is our home now, and for the foreseeable future. Jeff and Diana insist that this is our home, and Evie and I can't think of anyplace that we had rather be. We have few expenses."

"I can see the blank place where the guitar was that you gave my daughter. I know little about guitars, but when Linda handed me hers, it erased any doubt that it might not be expensive. Obviously you paid many hundreds of dollars for it, and you barely know my daughter. I don't feel right about you doing that, and I'm going to insist that I at the very least reimburse you for part of the cost. Madison pulled his billfold out of his pocket, "I've only got five hundred cash with me..."

Dave lifted his hand slightly. "Put it up," he said. His voice wasn't harsh, but it spoke of finality.

"Look..." Madison started, but was interrupted by Dave.

"Evie was taken with Linda on first sight. And to be blunt, I was too. It's almost as if I have known her for years."

"I didn't mean to insult you, Dave. I guess I'm just a little confused. I know that Gibson makes a number of guitars, but that one..."

Dave sighed. "So what? If I want another one, or one just like it, I'll buy it. Our company has done all right. Now Jeff is paying us an obscene amount of money, and we have absolutely nothing to spend it on. Linda... just seems special, and Evie and I want to do this. Besides, I think Linda will catch on quickly. She amazed me tonight. I taught her a few simple chords, and she caught on to changing back and forth between them before I thought she would. Then when I showed her a couple of simple rhythms, she could do them the first time through. And as you saw, she ran through them for you without a bobble, except that her F chord buzzed a little with the bar. That will stop as her hand and fingers grow stronger, and tougher. Believe me, most people can't learn that fast.

"This was not an idle gift — it will enhance Linda's obvious talent at just the right time in her life. She's hungry to learn. This particular guitar will make a difference in how fast she learns, and motivate her to keep on with her natural gifts. It would have for me at her age.

"Let Linda bring beauty and joy into the world. She really can do it. When I sang the little song as we played together to learn the simple chords, she wanted to do it again, and the second time, she sang with me. She has a beautiful voice."

"Yeah, I know. She sings at school some," Madison said. "Well, did, before they redistricted and bused her halfway across town for some stupid reason. Now, she has said that she isn't going back. This coming from an excellent student who has already been moved up a grade. And she's defiant about it. She said that she's afraid that she is going to be raped, and the teachers won't do anything. She claims that the school is a war zone. That the teachers stand up in front of the class and lecture while chaos goes on in the classrooms.

"My lawyers are supposed to do something dramatic Tuesday when we meet with my wife and her lawyer. If it works and I wind up with full custody, we're going to buy another house and get Linda into another school, I guess. I still don't know what I'm going to do about having someone with her while I'm flying. I don't have time to homeschool her and work too. I've considered an internet school, but that still leaves the question of someone to be with her while I'm away.

"She is responsible, but I can't leave her alone as much as I'm away. I'm really in a mess," he said, setting his cup back on the table.

Their conversation was interrupted as Evie and Linda came into the living room. "Oh, wow!" Linda exclaimed, quickly going to the Steinway Grand piano by the window. She put her hand out, not quite touching its mirror finish. "Oh, Dad, isn't this beautiful?"

Before Bill had a chance to answer, she darted to the guitars. "Oh, my," she quietly said. "They're beautiful." Turning back to Dave and Evie, she said, "Play something please. The both of you. Something that we can sing to. Please."

Laughing, Evie pointed to several boxes in the corner. "Take your pick," she said. "There are several thousand songs in the books and sheet music there. There's bound to be something that you like. Or if you know something, we'll go with that."

Madison stood up. "Would it be okay if I got Kathy? I know that she would love to do this."

"Sure," Evie said, pointing to the phone. "Call her, if you like. Or go fetch her. We don't have to get up early in the morning. We can have a ball."

Bill picked up the phone and dialed. When she answered: "What are you doing?... Reading. That sounds boring. Do you know where Evie and Dave's apartment is?... Okay, put some clothes on and come on over... No, we'll tell you when you get here. Hurry," and he hung up.

"She's on her way," he said unnecessarily, a grin on his face.



-------

Chapter 42


A little after one in the morning, Jeff was relaxing on the couch in the sitting room of Madison's suite. Smiling, he looked around him, thinking, I wasn't for the renovations when Diana first mentioned them. Every suite here that I've seen is beautiful — at least to me. But I guess they were a little generic. I wonder what my women will decide if Bill and Kathy get married? Do we have to redo another suite for the married couple? Hah. That's a foolish thought. At least the women would think it was.

The door opened and Bill Madison walked into his new suite with a smile on his face. Almost freezing for a second when he saw Jeff sitting on the couch, he tried to think of something to say.

Jeff stood, realizing that Madison was a heartbeat away from being irritated. "Please forgive me for intruding on you like this, but I have a problem."

Bill's irritation washed away as he saw the look on Jeff's face. "Sure, Jeff. Anything I can do to help, you know I will. Uh, would you like something to drink?"

Wanting to ease into the conversation, with both of them being a little more relaxed, he responded, "Yeah. I guess a Coke would be nice."

"Ice?" Madison asked as he opened the small refrigerator.

"No thanks," Jeff said.

Madison took out two drinks, handed one to Jeff, then sat across from him in one of the seats. They looked at each other a moment.

Jeff cleared his throat, a little hesitant, then stalling more, he said, "As you know, Frank and Margaret have said that they're going to be visiting on a regular basis, probably about every weekend. We've decided that we're family. Diana — well all my wives and I — have discussed doing what we could to make things easier on Frank and Margaret since they will be traveling so much. And, well, that involves you and Kathy just as much. That's the main reason, or one of the main reasons, we updated your suite..."

"Jeff, I... well both of us really appreciate what you have done. But it wasn't necessary. The other suite was beyond nice."

"Yeah, well, we wanted to do something special for you two, to let you know that we appreciate the both of you, and to welcome you to our home. How, if you don't mind my asking, is this coming down to Boulder every weekend going to affect your personal life? I know that normally you would be home on the weekends, and obviously you could still be. You could just drop Frank and Margaret off, then go back to Saint Louis, but somehow, we've begun to think that you would be here on the weekends — well, with all that's going on." Frustrated, Jeff said, "Ah shit. I'm stumbling around like an idiot."

Grinning, Madison held his hand up slightly, signaling Jeff to wait. "You don't sound like an idiot. You sound like someone who is trying to help me, but doesn't want to say the things that have to be said. I haven't had a chance to sit down and talk with Mr. Wainwright and Margaret, yet."

Jeff interrupted. "We, of course, know some of the things that have happened with your personal life — some you have told us, and some Frank has updated us with a little. But, I wasn't trying to pry into your personal life."

"Heck, Jeff, I really don't have that many close friends to share my personal life with. With the job I have, it's hard to schedule anything, and actually show up. Sometimes I sit around the office or home for the better part of a week, then I have an avalanche of flights. Friends get tired of my calling at the last minute to say that I can't make it. We used to have a cookout with the next-door neighbors, occasionally, but when Jill started acting like the witch from Hell, even that went by the wayside."

Crossing his legs and looking away for a second, he continued, "I still can't believe this is happening to me. I got married for life." Clearing his throat, obviously having a hard time, he took a sip of his drink and continued, "We have a meeting scheduled for Tuesday. My lawyers' investigators have discovered interesting things about Jill's doctor friend. We'll hit her with a proposal that will only last the length of the meeting. Full custody of Linda for me, sell the house and split the proceeds, split our savings, me pay off all the bills — which isn't much since I canceled our credit cards and went through the process of making myself non-responsible for anything she charged. Also, she gets our new car, with me paying it off. A cash incentive, and a few other things.

"The lawyers have already filed a complaint to the medical board on her doctor buddy. If he leaves the state, and as I understand it, he's limited to where he can go to practice when he does, they're not going to push it further. Anyway, if they accept and sign the papers during the meeting, then she gets what I've mentioned, if not, we carry it to court and fight for everything, bringing her abandonment of her daughter into the mix."

"So you're not going to have a place to live, wind up with some bills you have to pay off immediately, but do come out with full custody of your daughter?"

"Yeah, that's about it. I owe something over fifteen thousand on her car, and a few thousand that she managed to put on the credit cards before I had them canceled. We usually only have whatever we charged throughout the month, mostly just gas for the cars, and whatever's more convenient to charge than to write a check for, or that you can't use a debit card for. I'll do better than you think because I saved a lot more than Jill knew about, so she couldn't grab that before Linda warned me what Jill planned. I'll be okay even with the settlement."

"Are you going to build or buy another house in Saint Louis? You know that you can use this as your home. Frank is going to be here a lot anyway, and we darn sure have enough room," Jeff grinned.

"That's nice to know, Jeff. And I'm really flattered, but I promised Linda that she could pick out the house she wanted — within reason — if it was close enough to the airport. But the rub is, of course, that I don't have anyone to stay with her. Eventually, I'll be able to find someone, I'm sure, but we're already into the school year. Well, you were there when I told Mr. Wainwright what was going on. So some of this you have already heard. But there are other complications."

Madison sighed, and said, "You sure that you want to hear all this? You have troubles of your own..."

"Nonsense," Jeff said. "You know damn well I do."

"Well, we got redistricted as far as schools are concerned. Her school was within walking distance and we live in a good neighborhood. Now, she is bussed quite a distance, and even worse, she's scared to death in the school. With all that's going on, I haven't talked to the principal yet, not that I expect it to do any good, anyway. But Linda is scared that she's going to be raped. She said that the classrooms are war zones, and the teachers are scared to do anything. She said that some of the boys feel her up when she walks down the halls. My daughter has flatly refused to go back there. She's almost hysterical about it. She's said that two of the guys there have told her that the next time they catch her on the way to the cafeteria, they are going to fuck her."

Madison's face was red as he continued. "If I walk into that school, I'll probably go to jail. So I just haven't gone to see the idiot that's running the place. But my daughter isn't going back there. I've gotten permission to keep her out of school next week until something is done about custody. After that, I don't know where I'm going with this. I don't have time to home-school her. I guess I'll wind up with something on the internet, but I don't know what that involves. I could ring my wife's neck for abandoning us," he finished, the frustration showing in his voice.

"So she's left?" Jeff asked.

"She's in and out. If I come in, she's immediately gone. She's moved most of her stuff out. I don't know why she bothers coming back. If she sees me, it's World War III. And she hardly speaks to Linda. This is tearing my child up. She keeps trying to blame herself."

Realizing that his drink was still almost untouched, Bill took a swallow. "We've been, uh Linda, Kathy and I, have been with the Henson's for the last several hours — singing," he laughed. "Well they were. I was doing my usual imitation of a bullfrog. But seriously, Linda had a ball. And Dave gave her a guitar — an expensive guitar — and is teaching her to play. My daughter was acting like her old self, and well, she seems taken with both Dave and Evie. And, I guess, them with her."

Sighing a little, he said, "Obviously, she's developing a crush on Dave, and when I mentioned to Evie that Linda was vulnerable because of her emotions, I guess the implication was that Dave would take advantage of her. Well, let's just say that I'm not going to step into that alligator pit again," he chuckled.

"Linda asked if she could go with them to the music festival. And I said yes, but even though I know that she will have a ball, I'm still leery about her being around Dave so much. I know. I know," Madison said as Jeff started to say something. "He won't take advantage of her, but you should see the look in her eyes when she looks at him. She's going to get hurt in this. I just know she is. And she's been hurt enough with this shit with her mother."

Bill took another sip of his drink, and Jeff saw the slight tremble as he brought the bottle to his mouth.

"There's an alternative," Jeff said quietly. "Oh, I don't mean about Dave. I mean about the school."

Madison chuckled as he shook his head. "I've had little on my mind for the last couple of weeks other than the divorce, the way my wife is acting, and what in the world I'm going to do about Linda. If you can come up with something, I'd be forever grateful. But I can't imagine what it could be. The alternatives are slim, even if the meeting goes the way the lawyers hope it will."

"I'll obviously have to clear it with my wives and their teacher, who falls into the wife category as well," Jeff said, grinning. "But I seriously doubt that any of them will have anything to say against the idea, and probably it will be the exact opposite. They'll be all for it."

At Madison's look, Jeff continued, "We have a school here with a teacher who is eminently qualified."

"Well, I..."

"And Linda would be living in a household where the owner has seven wives," Jeff said, knowing that was basically what had crossed Madison's mind. "And she might be influenced by the association. She's too young to be thinking about sex, certainly far too young to be around someone with such low morals..."

Madison looked shocked, remembering Evie's vehemence when she almost literally attacked him verbally. Before he could say anything in denial, Jeff went on.

"She would have the run of the retreat, because it is our home, and it would be hers as well. So she might walk in when I was kissing one of my wives, or they might be sitting on my lap as I sit in my favorite recliner. They might even have a breast stuck in my mouth."

"Look, Jeff. I didn't..."

"Sure you did. Those things, or a variation, crossed your mind when you thought about bringing her up here. Now living with us would give even more chance of something like that happening. And what if it did? What has she seen and heard at school, or at home when you weren't able to be there, or when she was forced to spend the night with friends? At least here, it is absolutely guaranteed that she won't be raped."

Jeff slipped his shoes off and propped his feet on the coffee table between them. "I won't say that my wives, particularly my younger wives who are only a little older than Linda, won't talk to her about sex. I suspect that Linda will ask. Oh, they're not going to go out of their way to tell her about their sex lives, but they're all smart — and that's an understatement — and they're teenagers. A few months from now, Linda will know a whole lot more about sex than she does now, but she will know the truth, not some kid's version of what is supposed to happen."

"Shit, Jeff, I don't think about you and your wives like that. I..."

"Sure you do," Jeff said again, a little grin on his face. "Oh, I might have been a little blunt, but you know damn well that you were worried about bringing her around four young teenage wives, and trust me, just because the others are grown women, it doesn't mean that they're docile, or prudes. If Linda asked any one of them, they'll tell her — sit her down and explain until she understands, and give examples. Hell, Helen would probably make a school project out of it and have us at the Rocky Mountain National Park. They would have to write an essay with gestation periods for all the animals we saw there and compare them to the human female, or something," he laughed. "And I'm only about half joking."

Jeff's voice changed, becoming more serious as he looked over at the pilot. "If you do get custody, and this thing is over Tuesday, you could just change your home address to the retreat. This could be your home. Frank and Margaret are calling it their home, and I think you should seriously consider what I've just said. My wives were just as taken with Linda as were Dave and Evie. I've only been around Linda for a short period of time, but I like her. She seems far more adult than her age would indicate, just like my daughter, who is only a couple of months older than Linda is, if I understand correctly.

"She could go at a much faster pace than she's used to in a public school system. Soon, we'll have the best classrooms and everything else that money can buy for a school. And, obviously, it will cost you nothing. And I don't mean to insult you there. I know that you make a good salary, and can afford whatever it takes for your daughter. But money isn't the issue. Quality is.

"I suspect that my wives are already ahead of me on this, but let me stumble along and come up with it for myself. Probably when I mention it to them, it will be totally anticlimactic."

Madison set his drink on the table, leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees with his head in his hands. "Shit, Jeff. I don't know. I feel like an ass after you brought up some of the things that I've been thinking. I apologize. Your lifestyle is just so... different. I obviously was trying to protect my daughter."

"If you do decide to let her go to school with my girls, I promise you that she will be taken care off just like any other member of my family. When we go somewhere, she'll be with us. And Evie and Dave are good people. They don't come any better. She'll be protected here, and be a part of us. When you're flying, you will never have to worry about her..."

There was a knock on the door. When Madison got up and opened it, Jeff's wives filed in. Each kissed their husband, then found seats, Diana and Arlene flanking Jeff on the couch, with Laura sitting beside Diana, the others taking seats close by. Diana and Arlene were wearing a slight smirk on their faces that the others mirrored, or had bigger grins to replace the expression.

"As I said," Jeff chuckled, "I suspect that my wives are already ahead of me. And it seems that they were just waiting for me to bring it up."

"But..."

"No. I didn't tell them that I was going to have this conversation with you. My primary mission was something else, entirely. They just... knew," Jeff mysteriously said.

Bill, stunned, managed to ask if the women would like something to drink. A look passed between the wives, and Diana shook her head, then asked something totally different from what Madison was expecting. "Bill, do you see anything wrong with my daughter?" she asked, nodding toward Arlene who sat smiling, leaning her head against Jeff's shoulder.

"Look, Mrs. Matthews..."

"Oh, so I'm suddenly 'Mrs. Matthews' again."

"Uh, Diana, I..."

"How about Melissa, Ann, or Jennie? See anything wrong with them?"

"Of course not," Bill began.

"Well, one of the four has sex with her father, regularly, for her father is also her husband, as you know. She's a straight A student and will soon test out of high school, as will all of the girls. They have a well-rounded life. They cook, clean house — without being asked, I might add — they play video games, ride ATV's, play tennis, swim, heck any sport they can get near. They're compassionate to each other, and all their sister-wives, don't fight — ever. Make friends easily, believe in God. I could go on. And yes, we, and every one of us, have sex, make love, to our husband and to each other. Don't even bother to look shocked. No one is more shocked about it than I am. I never thought I could make love to another women, until I fell in love with my sister-wives. We might be a bad influence to your daughter, but I doubt it. No, I'm just saying that. We would never be a bad influence to her, because I can't believe that being around a loving family could ever be a bad influence."

Looking around her, Diana had eye contact with each of her sister-wives in turn. "I think that Jeff has invited Linda into our home and school. That invitation is unanimous with all of us. She is welcome and more. But I can't guarantee that she won't be swayed about sex here. She will definitely be allowed to make up her own mind. I feel no compulsion to add her to my husband's harem," she said, her face devoid of any emotion, but she could hear Jeff swallow beside her.

"I don't think my husband has any designs on her, and I don't, but I can't say the same thing for Evie."

Jeff turned to stare at his wife, but that was nothing compared to the shocked look on Madison's face.

Ignoring the looks from the men, Diana glanced at her sister-wives and continued, the rest strangely quiet. "My husband is an Alpha Male. He surrounds himself with competent, outstanding males. Although he is dominant, we have decided that these others might very well be Alpha Males, themselves. Think about it. Each of you is unique."

Startled, Madison realized that Diana had included him in that category.

"Think about it," she repeated. "Frank Wainwright, as you well know, is a dominant personality. Look what he has done with his company; what he is continuing to do. Dave Henson took a small construction company and expanded it many times. Look at all the people he has working for him. How does he pick such loyal, excellent workers, many of them very skilled? He, like Wainwright, is a leader."

Leaning back and crossing her legs in a very ladylike manner, she smiled at Madison. "And Captain Bill Madison, distinguished war hero... Oh, you didn't think we knew, did you? Both you and your RIO (Radar Intercept Officer) were injured when a SAM almost took out your Tomcat. One engine quit on the way back to the ship, and the landing gear was damaged. You had the option of ejecting near the ship, but you were afraid that your RIO was too seriously injured to survive if you did that. No one would have said a thing if you had ejected the both of you. You caught the number two cable with a crippled plane. Your right landing gear collapsed, but you brought your RIO home, and they saved his life in the carrier's hospital. I imagine his wife appreciated that," she understated.

"Let's not make any more out of it than it was," Madison said. "It was my responsibility to bring that plane..."

"... Just like it was your 'responsibility' to pull Frank out of that other plane, and shield him with your body, huh? Like I said, somehow, my husband seems to surround himself with other males like him. Your daughter will be loved here. We won't teach her to be a whore. I can't say that she won't be married sooner than you might like. But her morals that you have taught her will be intact."

Jeff sat frozen in his seat, fighting the grin that wanted to wash across his face. When Diana pronounced the word "whore," Madison looked like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water on him.

"Mrs..."

"Don't you dare be formal with me," Diana said, but the smile on her face toned the comment down a little.

"Diana, uh, I would never think that you would influence my daughter in that direction..."

"Of course, you didn't. I just used the expression to shock you. We're just people who love each other. I strongly suspect that it is normal for strong Alpha Males to have more than one woman. But we don't flaunt it. I'm Jeff's wife when we're away from here. We may not be able to convince someone if we're around them for very long, but we try to act properly around outsiders. I would advise you to strongly consider the real influence we would have on your daughter, and forget about Jeff having extra wives, or a harem, if you want to call us that. Sometimes, we do," she laughed.

Helen spoke into the sudden stillness, "Bill, please seriously consider what Diana and our husband have told you. I would welcome her to our school. It only takes one look at her face to see the intelligence in her eyes. And believe me, I've had many years to test that. If you remember, I engaged her in conversation at the dinner table, and afterwards. She told me that she had already been moved up a grade. She could be out of high school and ready for college much faster than she probably would be in any public school, and most private ones."

Helen sat back and crossed her legs much as Diana had, staring Bill in the eye. "I guarantee that she will graduate high school here with a much higher degree of education. I am qualified to do this, plus we have the absolute best environment that I could ever imagine for our school. I have bought equipment that I did not even bother to dream of before driving up that darned driveway one night not so long ago.

"Thanks to our husband and his lovely first wife, I have virtually unlimited funds to purchase anything I want for our school, and of course, I also have the absolute best students I could ever imagine, too. They are so important in helping each other to learn, as they will be for Linda, and she for them. In addition," she grinned, "they are my sister-wives. Your decision, without a doubt, is a major turning point in your daughter's life. It is also a decision that few parents ever have the chance to make."

The earnestness of Helen's speech did not go unnoticed by Madison, but if anything, he appeared more stressed now than before. Sighing, he said, "All this has pretty much hit me out of the blue. I never even considered Linda staying here — or living here as the case may be. And I agree that there isn't a comparison between your school and that... mess that she's in now, but... I'm home lots of nights, sometimes for weeks on end," he exaggerated, "before I have to be out of town overnight on flights. Then, like now, we're deluged with work, but still... I would only get to be with my daughter on weekends if she lived here."

Laura stood. "Bill, if you don't mind, I think I'll take you up on your offer of something to drink."

At Bill's absent nod, Jennie and Melissa said in unison, "We'll get it."

With the wives usual efficiency, all of them had a drink and were again seated in short order. Jeff smiled, knowing that they were giving Bill a little time to think, and took another sip of his, now warm, drink. "There's something else to factor in, Bill, in reference to your last comment about only seeing your daughter on weekends," Jeff said.

Glancing at his wives for conformation, he continued, "I have given my much overworked project manager yet another task to oversee and get started. In the beginning, I think that he and Evie both thought that I was just paying her for a title as his assistant. But from the look on her face lately, I think she has found plenty to do," he grinned.

Diana frowned, but Bill just looked at Jeff.

"Anyway," Jeff continued, wondering if he had stepped in it with his wife, "we have decided to surprise Frank with his own hangar in Boulder. When we went down to put the DVD in your vehicle, Diana and I noticed a new hangar going up in the private sector. There seems to be room for plenty more. Dave has an appointment with the airport officials to discuss this. Since you command that aircraft and have carte blanche in anything you need for it, then we felt it was only appropriate to have you in from the beginning on the hangar project."

Jeff grinned at the shocked look on Bill's face. "We certainly want to include an office for you and your crew, and suites also of course, in case you don't have time to come up to the retreat before you have to go out again. I have recently come to realize that Wainwright, Inc. is far bigger than I thought. I didn't know that he had branches and satellite companies scattered around the continental U.S. Like he seems to do with some many things he does, he downplayed his company and his role in it. No wonder you do so much flying."

Jeff shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. "But as much as you're going to be in the airport in Boulder, it just makes sense to have a hangar there, not to say anything about an office and ancillary accommodations. If Frank has thought about this, he hasn't said anything about it to me. So if he does mention it to you, please get in touch with me. It would be embarrassing for both of us to build a hangar. And I strongly suspect that he would not do anything along those lines without consulting you."

Madison opened his mouth to say something, but his mind blanked. Embarrassed again for the thoughts that he had been having about bringing his daughter to the retreat and being "exposed" to this family, he groped for words of apology. Stunning him further, first Arlene, then the other girls, got up and hugged him, then sat quietly around him on the floor.

Before his mind could untangle his emotions, Diana again spoke, "There is something else troubling us. But first I have to ask you something Bill?"

At his nod, she continued, "How old am I?"

As Bill opened his mouth to respond, Diana interrupted, "No, don't figure it out. I'm sure you already have. Look at me and tell me how old I am."

"Diana," Madison tried to say, as Jeff's grin widened.

Maybe she'll forget about my comment about Evie, while she's on Bill's ass,  Jeff thought.

"Spit it out, Bill. Forget about my sixteen-year-old daughter, and trying to figure it out. How old am I?"

Frustrated, Madison blurted out, "Hell, you look eighteen or twenty..."

"And how old is Laura?"

"Look, Diana. Even I know how dangerous it is to guess a woman's age, let alone guess two of them within earshot of each other..."

Diana reached over and took Bill's hand for a second. "This is important, Bill. Please, just do it. Neither Laura nor I will be mad at you."

"Allright. Twenty-five," he said as he looked critically at Laura, and before he had time to think any more about the consequences.

Surprisingly, there was no reaction from the women. "Now Helen," Diana said.

"Well, she's..." Bill started, remembering that she was supposed to be a retired school principal.

"No calculations," Diana snapped. "Say it now."

"Uh, I guess maybe thirty-five, or thirty eight..."

Surprising him yet again, all the women smiled at him. He stared at first one of the women, then another. He, Linda and Kathy had discussed how young the women looked, but now, he really looked, trying not to factor in what their ages had to be, knowing that was Diana's intent.

"Shit," he said under his breath, but from the smiles from the women, they obviously heard, and just as obviously took the word as a compliment.

Surprising, no, shocking Bill yet again, Diana knelt in front of him taking his hand in hers. "Bill, I know that I put you on the spot. But my intention wasn't to embarrass you, but rather to make a point that you couldn't refuse to accept. Obviously, there is something going on with our family besides just bubbling good health. Look at Frank and Margaret — Dave and Evie. We want to share this with you, because you, Linda and Kathy are special to us."

Looking up into his eyes with pleading, Diana continued, "My husband has been stressed all week trying to think how he could, uh... deliver this to you without your knowing." At Madison's blank expression, she continued, "We can't; my husband can't tell you about it. My husband intended to do this to you while you slept, but he... was in the military. He recognized that you were probably a very light sleeper. If anyone entered your bedroom, you would know. Trust us, please. When someone enters your bedroom tonight and for the next couple of nights, please just lie there and trust us."

Jeff, as stunned as Madison, gathered his voice. "Bill, you will feel the sheet lift off your chest. Then you will awaken in the morning feeling better than you have in a long time. Probably a very long time. I give you my solemn promise as an officer that nothing will harm you, or compromise you in any way. But just as solemnly, I must ask your word that you won't tell about, or discuss this with anyone. Ever. If you do, it could very well cost me my life."

Madison opened his mouth to speak, twice, his mind racing to assimilate everything he had heard in the last few minutes. Diana remained kneeling in front of him, squeezing his hands.

"That young lady that you fly with is a bit younger than you. Might be better if you were nearer her age," Jeff interjected. "Oh, and you can't open your eyes when I lift that sheet from your chest," Jeff added.

Looking down at Diana, Madison croaked, "Please get up. You're making me feel... uncomfortable. I never realized... that you people, uh, cared..."

Diana rose, pulling on Bill's hands to get him to stand, also. She hugged him, and kissed his cheek. "My husband will be back shortly. Go to bed. You will wake in the morning knowing that you made the right decision. Oh, and we'll eat at seven since it's so late already. Hugging him again — a full frontal hug, she stepped away as all the wives filed by to hug him. He was so stunned with all that had been said, that he didn't even get an erection, which did not go unnoticed by the women.

When the women left, Jeff put out his hand. "Remember, you can't try to look, and remember, also, the consequences if word gets out about this. I wasn't trying to be dramatic when I told you what the consequences would be for me."

"Shit, Jeff. I would be a damn fool. You have my word."

"That's all I ask," Jeff said. "Go to bed. I'll be back in thirty minutes. Then we'll see you at breakfast at seven."

When the door closed behind Jeff, Madison remained standing for a moment, then he noticed his half-finished and now warm drink sitting on the coffee table. Picking up the drink, he downed it before tossing the bottle in the trash. Walking into his bedroom, then the bathroom, he stared at himself in the large vanity mirror. Shrugging, he undressed, took a quick shower, turned out the lights and went to bed, his mind still a moil of activity that he had no success in shutting off for sleep. Shortly, he heard the bedroom door open and sensed a presence in the darkened bedroom. He sighed, and pulled the sheet down to his waist.

Jeff with his enhanced night vision could see that Madison had his eyes closed, but also obvious was the tenseness of the man.

The healer wiggled in Jeff's hands as he extended her toward Madison's chest.

{{{?? }}}

Yeah, Little One. We have another one for you to fix.

Although his eyes were closed as he had promised, Madison saw a faint blue glow through the lids for an instant, then he slept.



-------

Chapter 43

A few minutes before seven the next morning as Jeff turned into the hall toward the kitchen, he saw Captain Madison almost at the living room coming toward him from the other direction. Madison smiled and nodded his head toward the living room. Bill turned in before Jeff got there and was waiting for his host while standing by the big window.

"It looks cool out there this morning. The wind is blowing leaves and it's overcast," Bill said as Jeff walked up.

"Haven't been out, yet. Didn't go for my run this morning. Something about sitting in someone's room all night, or at least what was left of it after our little conference," Jeff teased.

Madison quickly turned his head to look at Jeff. "I didn't know that you did that all night... Uh, whatever it was. I figured that you gave me some kind of shot of something. Heck, Jeff, I don't know what to say."

"Oh, I sat in the corner and catnapped," Jeff mysteriously said.

"Can't you at least..."

"No," Jeff sighed. "I know that it has to sound stupid from your perspective, but I can't make any comments at all."

Madison turned back to staring out the window, obviously not satisfied. "I just wanted to tell you that whatever you've done has worked. Well, I don't know about the age thing, but I feel better than I can remember. Hell, I feel wonderful. Of course, I hope it isn't just the placebo effect, and I'm feeling good because... well, you know."

Jeff grinned at Madison. "If it is, it sure lasts a long time, and other people start noticing that you look younger, as well. Hard to think that is caused by the placebo effect."

"Well, whatever it is, I feel absolutely great."

"Great," Jeff said, his grin spreading across his face. "That's the way you're supposed to feel."

Madison's brow creased a little as he tried to choose his words, "Uh, I don't know how to say this, but I feel guilty..."

Jeff frowned slightly as well, a questioning look on his face.

Madison shifted, uncomfortable, "Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for whatever you did, it's just... Oh, crap, Jeff. All your older wives look so young. I know this thing — whatever it is — works. Heck, I felt so good when I stepped out into the hall that I almost jumped up and clicked my heels — assuming I could, of course. The only time I ever tried that, I busted my ass," he chuckled. "But... oh hell. What about Kathy and Linda?"

When Jeff started to speak, Madison went on, "Oh, I know they're young. My daughter is only fifteen — well almost sixteen. But a couple of years ago, one of the kids in her class died of leukemia. And, well, there's cancer and a host of other things that could affect either one of them. I'm feeling guilty that you've used this... whatever it is on me and not them, too."

Jeff put his hand on the pilot's shoulder. "I would think less of you if you didn't show concern for them. And the answer is yes, but not right now. We need to do this two more times now according..."... to the healer, he almost said, before catching himself. "Then we'll get around to the others. And I hope like heck that they sleep more soundly than you do. I can just see your daughter waking up with me standing over her while she is lying there in bed. That would be really tough to explain."

"Why not just talk to them like you did me?" Madison said, forgetting about the scene outside the window as the wind eddies tossed brightly colored leaves around.

"Because, I would like to do it without them being aware at all. If this... process ever becomes common knowledge, I'm going to have problems. And that's a gross understatement."

Madison sighed. "Okay. I guess I'll have to be satisfied, and again, whatever you did has made me feel absolutely great. I don't think I felt this good when I was a teenager, " he laughed.

Before he could say anything else, Diana stuck her head in the door. "You guys going to fast today, or come join us for breakfast?"

Both men chuckled and walked toward the door, Diana waiting for her husband so that she could put her arm around his waist as they walked toward the kitchen. His arm slid around her and surreptitiously cupped her ass for a moment. She squeezed his waist for a second in acknowledgement.

As they entered, everyone looked toward them. "Hey, the search party found you guys," Dave laughed. "Of course with Diana looking, it wasn't much of a search. Just a walk straight to Jeff. He wouldn't stand a chance with her in hide-an-go-seek," he finished, as Evie poked him in the ribs with an elbow.

"Oh. What was that for?" he muttered rubbing his side.

"That was tacky and it's been used before," Evie grinned as everyone laughed.

"Crap, I thought it was kinda original," Dave said as Evie, unobtrusively slid a hand underneath the table to grasp his groin. He suddenly tensed and his face gradually changed color as she gently massaged his cock while continuing to smile sweetly at him.

"You know that I've got to get up and go to the breakfast bar as soon as we have the blessing," he whispered. "If you keep that up..."

"Uh hum," she said, smiling coyly at him.

"Be good," he whispered back, almost begging.

"Oh, I am good," she teased, but then let his dick go.

Kathy, unaware of the quiet exchange between the Henson's, said, "Good morning, Captain," as Bill sat down next to her.

"Good morning, pilot," he teased back.

"Still makes me feel good to hear that," Kathy said, a smile brightening her pretty face.

Jennie volunteered to say the blessing.

Evie, who had made sure that Linda sat by her, grabbed the teenager's hand and pulled her toward the breakfast bar as soon as Jennie was done with grace. "Come on. I want you to try something I made. I think you'll like it."

As Dave got up to get his food, he had eye contact with Jeff, who winked at him, then looked toward Evie and Linda. Dave looked toward the two, but didn't see anything that would make Jeff wink. Confused, Dave shrugged it off and got in line.

While loading her plate and talking to Evie, Linda, very aware of Jeff's multiple wives, noticed an almost constant interchange between the women and Jeff. Although there was nothing overtly sexual, there was an occasional touch between them, or quiet words now and then, interspersed with banter between all the women. Before breakfast was over, each of Jeff's wives had said something to her or asked something to draw her out to become more at ease with the group.

As she ate, Linda continued to think about the Matthews. Although they were discrete, she got the feeling that they were trying to make her feel at ease and welcome. No wonder Daddy said they were nice people. I'm so glad I got to come up here. And Dave is... Wow. He's super. And Evie is so nice to me. I had a ball last night. I can't remember when I've had such a good time. Well, not since Mom... Why did she do this to us?

Linda realized that she must have shown her emotions, because Evie gently squeezed her left hand and smiled at her. "Things will get better," Evie quietly said so only Linda could hear.

-------

After breakfast, Dave walked into the living room where Frank and Jeff were sitting. Dave pulled up a chair, and when the conversation lulled, he said, "I just talked to the Thompsons. They're going to be home this morning, if you would like to take a ride down there with me. I saw Diana in the hallway and mentioned it to her. She said to tell you that they had things to do, and wouldn't be going with us."

Jeff grinned at Dave, "Okay. Sounds good to me. But remember, I'm along for the ride; you're the one negotiating with these people. I assume that Evie is going?"

Dave looked embarrassed. "I can't seem to get her away from Linda long enough to do anything. She's gone with Linda and some of your wives riding ATV's."

"Looks like she's checking out your future bride," Jeff said standing. "Come on Frank," he said, turning to Wainwright. "Let's go look at another farm."

"As long as I don't have to feed another damn mixer," Frank chuckled.

Dave managed to get a word in. "What the heck are you talking about, Jeff? You know that Evie would kill me if I even thought about another woman. You're the one with the harem. I'm strictly a one-woman man. And besides that, Linda is fifteen, for crying out loud..."

"Almost sixteen," Frank said, slapping Dave on the shoulder as he stood, "if I remember correctly. And besides, Arlene is barely sixteen, herself, not to mention that those other girls aren't exactly ready for a retirement village."

Dave frowned at him.

"Looks like you need to check on a larger bed," Jeff teased.

"Jeff, this isn't funny. You two keep kidding around like this, and Bill is going to hear you, then tear my head off. And I haven't done anything."

"Oh, that'll all work itself out, but you better open your eyes, Old Buddy, 'cause Diana says that Evie is 'shopping.' Seems to me that my wife is right. Besides, a little extra pussy never hurt anybody, right Frank?"

"Un uh. I'm not getting in this," Frank laughed.

"Come on. Let's go see the farm," Jeff said, mock pushing Dave toward the hallway.

"Shouldn't we be asking Bill if he wants to come with us? He might have some insight into Dave's expanding marriage..." Frank tried to seriously say.

"Now look, guys..."

"Nah. I already asked him. He said he was hoping to lounge around the pool, swim a few laps and just relax. He's had a hell of a week with this divorce thing, so I didn't push him to come with us," Jeff answered.

"Too bad," Frank chuckled. "It would be a chance for him to get better acquainted with his new son-in-law."

"That did it," Dave said. "Now you get an extra knot on your head." Dave took off down the hall chasing Frank, both of them laughing and cutting up like kids.

-------

In the back a few minutes later, Dave, anxious to change the subject, glanced at Jeff, "Probably should take your big pickup. It would be a lot better for riding around the farm. We could hook a trailer up and take some of the ATV's, but..."

Waiting for the garage door to finish opening, Jeff chuckled as he nodded toward the back of the property where they could see the ATV's racing up the ski slope. "Looks like we need to buy a couple more of those things if we're ever going to get to use them. Unless you want to go out there and tell those girls that you need two or three of their toys."

Dave open the back door of the pickup, then looked at Jeff. "I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I damn sure know better than that..."

Wainwright moved in front of Dave and got in the back seat. "Sit up front with Jeff. You two are the ones looking at the property."

"Uh, okay. Thanks."

They all got in. Jeff started the truck and looked at the gas gauge. Smiling, he backed out of the garage and hit the remote to lower the door.

"What are you grinning at, Boss."

"Oh, nothing. The tank is pegged. Someone topped it up. Probably one of the girls wanting to drive a little. I still haven't carried Arlene to get her license, and with worrying about that idiot maybe doing something, I don't let them drive as much as I should. The up side is that all the vehicles are quickly filled so that they can drive the few hundred feet to the pump."

"Teenagers driving," Dave laughed. "Better you than me."

"Oh, I don't know," Jeff said as he maneuvered the big pickup down the drive, "I imagine you're going to experience it shortly."

Dave frowned as he looked at his boss. "Jeff, uh, does Diana really think that Evie is... well, checking Linda out? Heck, I can't even say it."

"She broached the subject a little with Madison about that last night..."

"She what?" Dave said, jerking his head around to stare at Jeff. "Oh, shit. Madison is going to kill me for sure."

"Well, she just said that she didn't have any designs on Linda, referring to our marriage, but couldn't speak for Evie."

"Oh, shit. What did Bill do? No wonder he looked at me funny this morning."

"She didn't give him time to say anything," Jeff said, turning onto the county road. "Besides, she hit him with so much about then, that he was probably a bit overwhelmed, which if I know Diana and the rest of them, was all part of the plan. She's probably going to let the thought stew awhile, before she elaborates on it more. But she hit him, well, they all hit him with a united front about Linda going to school here."

Jeff glanced over at Dave, then continued, "Bill's divorce problems are probably going to come to a head Tuesday."

Wainwright sat up and leaned forward.

"He said that he hadn't had a chance to bring you up to date, Frank, but they're going to have a meeting Tuesday and the lawyers are going to try to finish this thing. If it works, he'll have sole custody of Linda, but still won't have the school problem taken care of, or a permanent place for Linda to stay. Although Diana and Helen were the primary spokeswomen in this, I've been blindsided by them enough to know when they've already agreed and discussed something. Of course using the word discussed in reference to something that my wives do, might not mean exactly the same thing it would if I were referring to us discussing something. Shit, we have to talk."

"How do they do that? I swear, Evie is beginning to do it with them. They just look at each other, then grin like they've had a whole conversation. It's starting to bug me."

"Don't expect to get any sympathy from me."

Stopping at the intersection to the main county road, Jeff waited for a car to pass, then pulled out.

Dave sat staring out the window as they wound on down the mountain.

Jeff touched his friend on the shoulder for a second. "Don't sweat it. I'm telling you this is going to work out. Diana thinks that you are soon to have a new wife. Linda is beautiful and smart. I used the healer on Bill last night. And don't even think about trying to say that you can't take care of another female, or that you don't care for her. It was darn near love at first sight, and you know it. Anyone can see it on your face when she's near you. To repeat: You're not going to get any sympathy from me about having another wife. And if what Diana tells me about the comments that Evie has made, well..."

"Damn, do women discuss everything?" Dave rhetorically asked, frustrated.

"Yep," Jeff sniggered. "Afraid so. Wait until you have several of them, and there is always one of them wanting to hold your dick in the morning, guiding the stream while you're trying to piss. And the giggling doesn't help, either."

It was all that Jeff could do to keep a straight face at Dave's shocked look.

From the backseat, Wainwright said to Jeff, but still chuckling at Dave, "If you're done scaring this poor man to death, how about letting him tell us about this farm we're going to see. How much land are we talking about, again?"

Relieved to change the topic, Dave turned to Frank. "Something over twelve hundred acres, plus the forty that we're going to leave Thompson with."

"How in the heck are those two women going to handle all that? That's bigger than their present farm, isn't it, Jeff?"

"Yeah, it is, but I doubt it's going to be 'just' the women. Diana says that Carla will be in Fred's bed before the month is out."

"Yeah, that's what Margaret thinks, too, but still, that's a lot of farm."

Dave turned to look toward the back for a moment. "We've got barn plans and an architect working on things. With everything that can be automated, it will cut down a lot on the daily chores. With Jeff's permission, of course, we're going to put in feed storage bins — small silos actually — beside the barn. When the grain is mixed and ground into feed, it will be stored in those bins. Automation will carry it to the feed troughs. They'll be able to open gates and doors at the barn from their house. There will be cameras throughout the operation, and alarms when things don't go the way they're supposed to.

"They'll still need some help for an operation this big — I'm speaking of the combined farms — but most everything will either be handled automatically, as I've said, or from the seat of a piece of equipment."

Jeff glanced in the mirror at Frank. "From the general conversation, I'm pretty sure that Carla and Sam never took a real vacation. They had either the Hodkins or the Thompsons feed their stock for a day or two when they had to go somewhere, but with a farm or ranch being twenty-four seven, neither of those women have been anywhere much.

"Even when Jessica was going to college, she stayed at home on weekends. Seems a shame. Both of those women are sharp as can be, and they work their asses off. I want them to be able to enjoy themselves a little. Lord knows they haven't had much good to come into their life since Sam was diagnosed. If we can automate most everything, maybe during the off-seasons when there aren't crops to take care of, someone else can fill in for them with the cattle so they can travel a bit."

Frank reached over and tapped Jeff on the shoulder. "Not many months go by without some of my group going to Hawaii. There would be plenty of room on the plane. I have to pay for the hotel, anyway. Another suite isn't going to break me." Then chuckling, he continued, "Since my outfit will be doing the advertising for the homes the corporation is going to build, we could have a conference in Hawaii. That way Wainwright, Inc. could cover the costs and maybe it wouldn't seem so much like charity to her. Do Carla and Jessica good to rub elbows with a few vice presidents, and them good to be around a couple of working gals."

Leaning back in his seat, a grin on his face, he continued, "Yeah, a week or two in Hawaii about mid-winter might thaw them out after they've frozen their rear ends off fooling with cattle on that farm. That valley isn't going to get as cold as the top of our mountain, but it's still over eight thousand feet. It darn sure is going to get a little chilly now and then. No matter how used to cold they are, Hawaii will be one hell of a change."

"It might be two suites by then, or a double suite," Jeff said as he swung out to pass a tractor pulling a hay baler, shortly after turning onto the state highway.

Wainwright caught Jeff's eye in the mirror again. "Why should Jessica be in a separate room? Who says that she won't be in Fred's bed along with her mother?"

"Now, Frank, just because..."

"The way Jessica was hanging onto Fred, I don't think she's given over to her mother being the only one having him. Jessica isn't out of the running, yet. And remember, before you say anything, I'd just about bet that those women have figured out your situation. It's not a new idea with her. She has a model to go by. If your bunch can do it, then so can she."

"But Fred is so much older than Jessica," Dave broke in.

"Well, I wouldn't go so far to say that it would be permanent. But Jessica and Carla seem to me to be really close. They act like sisters or close friends, instead of mother and daughter. When women are close, they fucking tell everything, in case you two haven't noticed," he sarcastically said. "I'd bet my bottom dollar that Fred is going to get some Jessica pussy, and according to Margaret, Carla is a forgone conclusion. Besides, there is the healer. And your old buddy is darn sure looking a lot perkier. Might be that Jessica could learn a thing or two from him about loving."

Laughing, they continued on down the road talking about Fred, the farm and the two women.

"The next driveway on your right," Dave instructed as Jeff slowed. "The little road behind Carla's property extends on around to the Thompson's place, too. So if you decide to use the front section for houses, we'll still have easy access, although it will be a little farther, of course."

Both the Thompsons came out on the front porch when they drove up. After introductions, Edmond said, "I know that you want to look over the place Mr. Matthews, but first let's go inside and sit down. Jody and I have several questions.

As soon as they got inside, Jody turned to Jeff. "I've just taken a big peach cobbler out of the oven, and we have some vanilla ice cream. Why don't we just sit at the table?"

Jeff started to object when he caught a look in Ed's eye. "Ma'am, that would be fantastic. Peach cobbler is one of my favorites. Lead the way. You have three walking appetites that will be glad to follow."

Ed grinned at Jeff as they turned toward the kitchen. "Jody loves to cook, and with the kids gone and no hands on the farm to feed, she only has me to fatten up these days."

As they entered an enormous farm kitchen/dining room combination that must have been thirty feet long, Jody said over her shoulder. "I still get to cook a little on the third Sunday of every month when our church has potluck, but I do miss cooking for everybody. We have two small houses on the farm where our help lived, but they got jobs in Denver and moved on as we wound down our operation. You folks have a seat," she said, indicating an enormous table at the other end of the kitchen. "I'll be there in a moment with the cobbler."

After the food was in front of them, had been tasted and praised, Ed got around to their questions. "Mr. Matthews, your project manager has said some nice things about you, and to be frank, we talked to Carla. I swear, that woman thinks that God sent you, and I think she's serious. But that notwithstanding, we need to know some things. Best not just beat around the bush. Mr. Henson here says that Carla is going to manage and run our place as well as hers. We're all for that. That poor woman has had a hard time. But the plan for building houses might just be a problem for us."

Glancing at his wife for a moment, he continued, "Your offer of allowing us to keep forty acres and our home is generous, to say the very least, but we want this place to stay a farm. The farm has been in the family for three generations, and we had hoped it would be there for four, but the kids finished college and moved on with their careers. They made it abundantly clear that they weren't going to have anything to do with farming or ranching."

Putting his spoon back on his plate, Ed leaned back in his seat and looked Jeff in the eye. "We're always reading on the news on the net or seeing something on television about people clashing with farms. Housing developers build right up against a farmer's or rancher's fence, then the homeowners piss and moan about a tractor waking them up at five o'clock in the morning, or maybe running all night in the spring of the year. The idiots move in right next to a hog farm and gripe about the smell. Then they try to bring in every organization they can think of to put the farmer out of business.

"I finally saw this guy on TV — I think he was some type of anthropologist or something — that said all the hoopla about farmers over-fertilizing and screwing up the streams was a bunch of bunk. He said that his studies showed that the most of the fertilizer was coming from the hundreds of thousands of homes along the rivers and streams where the people were fertilizing their lawns. Farmers have tried to tell people for years that a farmer over-fertilizing is ridiculous. Fertilizer costs big money, and we can only afford the minimum amount for our crops. I'm obviously not a scientist, so I don't know who is right. I suspect both are, to a certain extent, but farmers and ranchers are catching hell from every direction, it seems."

Ed sighed, then continued. "There's always some idiot on television saying that farmers shouldn't use insecticides or fertilizer. I wonder what the heck that idiot would eat if we didn't, because crops won't grow without fertilizer, and if you don't use insecticides, there's nothing left to harvest? But I'm getting off the subject.

"Jody and I are afraid that if we sell this place to you, the emphasis will shift from farming to quick money — to be blunt. We've thought about selling off a tract of land, or even developing it ourselves. That's how so many housing developments wind up right next to a farm in the first place..."

Jeff managed to get Ed's attention. "First off, as I said before, I had would rather be called Jeff. Both Fred and Dave feel the same way," he said, nodding to his friends. When the older couple agreed that they felt more comfortable with first names, too, Jeff continued, "We have already discussed this concerning Carla's farm, and although we had planned to build homes on her front forty, there are going to be several differences from what you're describing. Unfortunately most developers aren't interested in what happens once the house is built and the property sold. We are, because Carla and Jessica are going to continue to live there and run the farm. And if we buy this one, they'll be operating it, and in addition, you'll be staying here, as well."

Jeff ate another spoonful of cobbler, making sure that he had some ice cream perched on top of the bite. "This is really good, Ma'am," he said, giving Ed time to calm down a little. Obviously the two of them had spent some time discussing this and were upset about the prospect of developing the front section. "I think the first thing we need to do is get to know each other a little better. But before I start with my background, let me make it abundantly clear that what you're worried about isn't going to happen. We'll be glad to share our plans for the farms with you, and have the lawyers do whatever is necessary to put your mind at ease — totally."

Wainwright sat with an amused expression on his face as he ate, watching Jeff wind the two older people around his little finger. Glancing at Jeff, Wainright thought, He projects confidence, sincerity and honesty. Stifling a smile that wanted to creep onto his face, he took another bite of cobbler. But he doesn't just project them, he is those things.

Jeff finished his last bite and pushed the plate back. "That was absolutely delicious, Jody." After she acknowledged his compliment, he continued, "Not far from where I used to live in Georgia, a developer bought a small farm, graded out the streets and paved them, then in less than a year, there were probably seventy-five houses on postage stamp lots, all ready for occupancy. I'll bet there were all kinds of jokes going around about going into the wrong house, because they were essentially the same. There was an occasional one that was a mirror image of the others, but nevertheless, it would probably be a good idea to paint your front door a different color, if you lived there."

Jody Thompson had gotten up and brought cups to the table while Jeff was talking. Motioning with the coffee pot, she asked if Jeff wanted any.

"Yes, Ma'am. Coffee is one of my weaknesses."

As she poured, "Okay, to continue with my little story. Every one of those houses was built on a slab — no basement, on a small lot with no way to expand when their family grew. Where were they supposed to put the Christmas tree and ornaments, or all the things that a family acquires over the years? I used to help out the local police department by occasionally working as a reserve. Even I could figure out that a housing tract like that is a recipe for police calls. Then stick something like that development next to a working farm, and everyone is miserable.

"The people have to put up with equipment running at odd hours, and the smells of cattle and swine. The farmer has to put up with kids getting into his pasture and messing with his livestock. Not to say anything about the worry of potential lawsuits from some of those city kids getting hurt when a bull or boar, not to mention a sow with pigs, decide that the kids are a potential threat. A lot of bad things can happen to both sides."

Looking at first Jody, then Ed, he continued, "If we do this, and the operative word is 'if, ' we're not going to approach this as a housing development. To begin with, it will be directed toward very high-end homes on large lots. The homes will be over the hill from your farm. No one from the farm will be able to see the homes, and none of the homeowners will be able to see the farm from their property. Although we certainly haven't settled on details, we have considered, and will probably construct, a fence or wall that will be a lot more than decoration. That way any visiting grandkids won't be able to stray onto the farm, and if a cow gets past your fence, the wall will stop her from being able to get on their property.

"The way your home is situated, it will be the better part of a half mile to the first house, not to say anything about the hill and all the trees in between. It will probably be a gated type community. We, the corporation, will build and maintain a park in the center of the community with a small lake and secluded walkways, for chances are that the majority of the homeowners will not be young. They will be rich, or at least very well off, to afford the houses to begin with. There will not be any additional houses allowed after the homes will be built, so the lots can't be subdivided later, causing property values to diminish. Also, there will be agreements signed, very plainly spelling out the rules, and the owners will be made clearly aware that a working farm is over the hill with smells, noise and insecticides."

Taking a sip of his coffee, he complemented Jody on it. "We're not buying this farm for the corporation to make money. I know you don't believe that now. Eventually, if we build the homes, we might, indeed, make a profit. But the original intent is to add to Carla's farm, and believe it or not, not let housing developments and such start up right next to Carla. If we own the property, we know it won't happen.

"Carla and Jessica wanted to continue with what they had. Now they can, and with our help, they'll eventually have a more modern farm and have a much better chance of making a better profit for their many hours of work."

Embarrassed, Jeff said, "Sorry for my long-winded spiel. I guess I got a little carried away."

There was quiet at the table. Dave took a sip of his coffee, his eyes sparkling. As he looked over at Frank, both men fought not to grin, for the Thompsons would have misunderstood.

Finally, after seeing his wife's nod, Ed broke the silence. "If the lawyers can get what you said down on paper, and our lawyer tells me it will stick, we can live with it."

Jeff met Ed's eye. "We've arranged to have a preliminary meeting with the lawyer on Tuesday, if that's convenient with you two. After that, we'll need to have everything surveyed, particularly the section that you're going to keep, plus do all the other paperwork that goes with a land sale. But I've already found out that a lot of things can be expedited with a good lawyer and a little extra, uh, 'fee, ' I guess we could call it, to help the bureaucracy along."

"Well, I don't know what you did to get Carla's troubles over so quickly, but we heard via the grapevine that Carla's banking 'buddy' has hauled ass to parts unknown. From what we hear the Federal people are investigating his little chain of banks. And that skinny dude that runs the real estate office is supposed to be gone, too."

"No kidding," Jeff said with a hint of a smirk on his face that the Thompsons missed, but Frank didn't."

Ed pushed his chair back from the table, and stood. "Let's go look at some property. We should probably use my truck. We're going to have to ford the creek, unless we drive all the way around. Save you getting mud on your nice rig."

"Nonsense," Jeff laughed. "I bought that thing so I would have something to attach a snowplow to. It's going to get skinned up sooner or later. I didn't buy it to be pretty."

Laughing, they went out the front. Dave held the right front door open for Jody, but she opened one of the back doors, instead. "You ride in the front with Mr., uh, Jeff. You guys are buying this place. You need to see it. I've made this trip a thousand times."

Laughing, Jody and Ed got in the back seat with Frank.

A few minutes later as they drove up to the pasture fence, the big gate opened for them, then closed as they drove through. Jeff had lowered his window and looked at the mechanism that opened the gate as he went by.

Ed saw Jeff's scrutiny of the gate mechanism. "Yeah, I know it's jury rigged. But gate openers cost money, and we have a lot of gates. I wound up with a bunch of electric motors, pulleys, and well... a whole lot of stuff when I went to an auction in Denver a good many years ago. The owners of this outfit had just up and left. The court held an auction, but the place was in a rough area. The big old building used to have something to do with the steel industry, before this other company bought it.

"Anyway, only a few people showed up, and most of them didn't appear to be very interested in buying anything. The 'auction' degenerated into 'what will you give me for this box of uh, let's see what's in here?' There were a number of big wooden boxes, probably six feet by six feet and about four feet high sitting around stacked full of stuff. Since the company was a rebuild place for electric motors, several of the boxes seemed to be full of used motors. Now, not many people want a few hundred worn-out electric motors. One box must have had a thousand pulleys for motors.

"Then the snow started that they had been forecasting, and it started with a vengeance. In thirty minutes, there were two inches of a snow and sleet mixture on the ground, and the wind was blowing like crazy. These folks from the court were dressed in nice clothes, apparently thinking that the auction was going to be inside a nice building out of the weather. Well, we were inside, at least for the most part, but there surely wasn't any heat, and remember the building was originally used by the steel industry, so there were windows high up that had been broken out over the years. Everything in the place was filthy, and... cold.

"One guy bid on a desk, loaded it on his pickup and left. The others just... left. But, crap, I was in hog heaven. I needed some electric motors for my gate project, and I had been digging down in the first box of motors. Underneath were rebuilt motors, and even a bunch of brand new ones, too. I wasn't going to lie about finding the motors, so I told the people from the court, but the only thing they were interested in by now was in getting out of the neighborhood while they still could. Between worrying about being mugged and the snow and ice, they just wanted to be gone.

"Heck, I had driven old Big Moe, pulling my flatbed trailer that I use to haul my tractors on, so I wasn't worried about the weather. And I had my old .44 under my coat, so the neighborhood didn't worry me particularly, either. I was ready for shopping. To make a long story a little shorter, I wound up with a package deal — at the insistence of the court people. They wanted me to give them a price for everything not actually part of the building and anything inside the fence. I told them I was a farmer, not some rich entrepreneur, and I darn sure hadn't brought much money with me. They just laughed and told me to make them an offer.

"I made them a ridiculous offer. They had about pissed me off trying to rush me, and I wanted to dig through the boxes and see what was in the rest of them. I had barely gotten my mouth closed from making the offer when the head guy said, 'Sold, ' like I had just bid a hundred thousand dollars on an antique painting or something. I couldn't believe it. Heck, I had just blurted out the first thing that came to mind so they would shut up.

"I had a receipt in my hands and the keys to the building and fence before I realized what was happening. One of them handed me a Post-it note with an address on it so I could return the key. Shortly, I was standing there by myself.

"Well, I opened the bay doors and backed my trailer in. In addition to the motors, pulleys, machines for rewinding and rebuilding motors, and tons of other stuff, I found a whole pile of steel in the back corner of the fenced in area. There were enough various sizes of mild sheet steel to last me for five lifetimes, and a whole assortment of other steel. There was even a cold rolled steel rod. I remembered a friend that did contract millwork for a company complaining about having to keep a rod of the stuff on hand to replace a roller at one of the plants. He was bitching about it costing seventeen hundred dollars, but he had to keep one on hand to cut down on the delay when the company needed their equipment fixed.

"Between selling that rod to him, and a couple of other things, all the stuff in the building and yard didn't cost me a dime. Hell, even including renting the forklift and help to clean the place out, I still made money. Even after hiring two guys to help me, I spent a whole week hauling stuff back here."

"Uh," Jeff broke in. "I wasn't belittling your opener. I'm an electrical engineer, granted not a mechanical engineer, but still what I could see of your gate opening mechanism is ingenious, particularly if you made it up from parts not meant to be a gate opener. I'm impressed. I saw the battery box and solar cell. Are you running the gate motors off twelve volts, or are you converting to one hundred and twenty?"

"I'm using an inverter to convert to one-twenty AC. I got to talking with the owner of the Battery Man shop. He sells used batteries. More than that, actually. One of the things he does is buy gel batteries from a company that leases them to places like casinos for their backup. Now these folks aren't going to let an occasional power outage, let alone a prolonged one, keep them from making money. So their whole place is wired to keep right on going if the power fails. They have generators for their lights of course, but they used battery banks and inverters for their computers, slot machines — things like that. The same company that supplies the backup batteries for the casinos also supplies backup power for a number of large corporations for their computer systems — banks, hospitals, etc.

"Mostly, these batteries are never even used, but they've been on the shelf or part of a battery bank at a casino or other place that has to have uninterrupted power, for a year or two, then the batteries are cycled out for new ones. Well," Ed laughed, "the guy was building a trailer to haul his batteries and needed some sheet steel. I wound up with enough big gel batteries for a lifetime, plus a whole bunch of used inverters, and he wound up with his super heavy duty trailer."

Ed's voice changed. "I had to buy the darn solar cells, but hey, I only needed a trickle charge to keep the batteries up when the charger said they needed it, so I wound up with small cells, and I got a bit of a discount for buying so many."

Jody spoke up as she motioned for the direction for Jeff to drive. "The openers have been even nicer than we first imagined. When you're moving cattle from one pasture to another, you can't open the gate beforehand, because the idiots will come out of the fence going in the wrong direction before you can get the others to the gate. Half the time, when you get off your four-wheeler to close the gate, some of the yearlings will beat you to the gate and run back through.

"It works better with a horse, because you can close the gate without getting off, but in the mean time, some have split off from the herd. The gate openers have solved all that for us without costing much of anything. Just press a button and keep going."

Jeff smiled as Ed said, "Heck, I'm so cheap that I even use rechargeable batteries in the remotes."

As he pressed the button, the next gate opened for them. "Drive on over there to that little knoll," he instructed. "You can get a pretty good view of most of the place from there.

At the knoll, they got out of the truck. Jody handed Jeff a pair of binoculars that she had brought with her and described the pastures and fields in the distance. Jeff used the glasses, acting as if he needed them.

Pointing at the brightly-painted windmills scattered about the property in the distance, Dave asked how many wells they had.

"We've got ten," Jody answered, "and Ed built the windmills and pumps, of course."

"Now, Honey, you know that you did most of the vane work. You spent just as much time on the wells as I did."

"I only count six," Frank said.

"Yeah, you can't see the ones on the back side from here," Ed said. "Twelve hundred acres is a chunk of land."

"Why so many?" Jeff asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to see what Ed would say.

"Well, with all the cross fences, unless we have flowing water in that pasture, we have to have a well for the cattle."

"Do you have much 'flowing water' as you put it?" Dave asked.

"There are several little creeks and the big one on the back side, of course. I guess it would be called a river in a couple of the drier states, but we just call it a creek. It runs the year round, even in the middle of summer, but in the spring, with the snowmelt in the mountains, it overflows its banks and gives us some problems."

"That's the same creek that goes by Carla's place, I assume?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah, her property starts way over there by that big oak tree you can just barely see," Jody said, pointing.

"So there wouldn't be any problem with machinery moving from one of her fields to yours?" Jeff asked again.

"Nah. Some of her corn fields back into ours. There's just a little tractor road between the two fields. Same with some of her pasture," Ed answered.

As they got back in the truck to continue the tour, Jeff said, "Tell me about the well pumps you mentioned. Did you build those, too?"

"Well, yeah," Ed said. "Those windmill pumps are really just a little piston going up and down inside a pipe that's sunk into the well. There are a few one-way valves and a couple of seals, but they're not really complicated. I had plenty of steel pipes of all sizes from the auction, so I just fired up my torch and set to work. My blacksmith shop came in handy again, also. We make all our plow points. And that big old disk harrow that you saw back there is older than my grown kids. I made a swap on a whole bunch of hard surfacing rods for the welder, so I ran a bead around the leading edge of the disks. When it wears down, I just do it again. Beats buying new disks."

Laughing, he continued, "I bought a slew of used ball bearings from an eighteen wheeler trailer place. Now they were worn out, or had a ball chipped in a lot of them. But with so many, I just swapped out things until I had a bunch of perfectly good bearings. Oh, they might not have worked without making a noise on a loaded eighteen wheeler running down the interstate at seventy miles per hour, but on that disk harrow going five miles an hour, and with a lot less weight on them, well, they've been good for over twenty years."

"When something breaks or wears out, my husband fixes it, and usually it's better than it was when it was new," Jody proudly said.

"Well now, Baby, let's not make something extra out of it. I just lucked up and managed to get some stuff that we could use on the farm."

Jeff glanced over at Dave, who raised an eyebrow.

As they moved on through the big farm, going through several more fences, they eventually left the fenced area and turned down a tractor road between harvested fields. As they drove slowly along, Jeff gave them his background story. When they eventually came to the creek, they stopped to just sit and watch the water while they talked.

Wanting to hear the story that he knew would be coming, he said, "What about that big John Deere tractor sitting at the end of your tractor shed? It's obviously not as modern as the others, but it looks like it just rolled off the showroom floor..."

"Oh, that's old Fred," Jody laughed. "We've had him since right after we got married in '68."

"Fred?" Jeff chuckled.

"Yeah," Jody said, smiling. "We tend to name everything. When you have a bunch of equipment, it cuts down on the misunderstandings. And it tends to be fun, too."

"Oh, I can understand that. What makes it funnier is that my friend over there," he said pointing in the general direction of Carla's farm, "that's helping Carla, is named Fred. Somehow, we've got to work this into a joke."

"Well, old Fred back there. Uh, the one in the tractor shed," Ed kidded, "has been rebuilt more times than we can remember, I guess. The first time we rebuilt his motor, Jody was blown up like a balloon with our first child," he said, reaching over to hold his wife's hand. As she smiled back at him, he continued, "Although I had helped my dad work on equipment, I had never rebuilt an engine myself.

"Money was a bit scarce then, but Jody here," he said smiling at his wife, "said we could do it. So we bought the parts, and one cold winter day, we drove him into the shop, fired up the heater, and started. We had a book, but Jody sketched out everything on paper as we disassembled the engine, writing down notes about how everything came off, and anything else we could think of to make assembly easier. We were slow. It took us four days that a mechanic that did it all the time would probably have done in six or eight hours, but we crossed our fingers, hit the starter, and he cranked right up.

"He blew blue smoke for a little bit, but that came from oiling the cylinder walls and rings so they wouldn't gall until the oil pump got everything lubricated. We were so proud of ourselves that we patted old Fred on the hood like he was a good dog or something.

"Years later, we had to rebuild his transmission, and that really scared the crap out of me. But with Jody documenting everything, and a book, we got it done. We had already had to rebuild the hydraulic lifts. We bought other tractors over the years with larger motors, but with a little help every now and then, old Fred just keeps on going.

"We just mostly use him to pull a trailer or other light work, because he can't pull the really big stuff that we use today, but he still pays his way. There's no sense in throwing him away when he can still do the job. We put that new paint job on him last year, so he looks brand new, but he's an old man under it all."

"I suppose you did the painting yourself?" Jeff halfway asked, thinking that it looked as professional as a factory job.

"Oh, yes," Ed chuckled. "You see, I lucked up and found some forty-eight inch fans that this paint outfit had thrown away, and well, with all the electric motors I had, it was easy to get them back in shape. I never could figure out how to make decent paint booth filters, so we had to buy them. But we wound up with a paint booth that's just as good as you see in any body shop. Didn't cost anything but the filters. Then there was this guy at the John Deere place that needed some meat, so we made a deal for enough paint to keep our tractors looking new for years."

Frank, who had been chuckling on and off for a while, broke out laughing. The inquisitive look on Ed's face just made him laugh harder.

The laughter was catching. When it died down, Frank said, "If you want a job, you're hired."

"But what could I do for you?" Ed said, a serious look on his face.

"Damned if I know," Frank chuckled, "that would be the fun of it. I'm sure you could figure out something," he said, starting to laugh again.

After the laughter died down again, Jeff, in a serious voice, said, "Tell me why you're selling this place. You obviously love it."



-------

Chapter 44


After Jeff, Dave and Frank left to check out the Thompsons' farm, Bill Madison decided to swim a few laps to get his day started. I haven't worked out much lately, and with all that's been going on, I just want to sit and mope. I need to get off my ass and do something. Damn, I feel good. Whatever Jeff did to me sure got my energy level up. I'm going to get my suit and try out that fabulous pool. Crap, I haven't swum in so long that I probably won't be able to swim two laps.

After changing into his suit he walked on down to the pool and opened the door, only to stand as he watched Helen powering through the water. Walking nearer to the pool, he stopped. No way am I going to swim laps with someone cutting through the water like that. She would probably make three laps to my one, uh ... make that four,  he thought, as he sank onto one of the lounges wishing he had waited for a while before coming in.

Helen turned over onto her back, floating, occasionally fluttering her feet as she coasted through the water. "Come on in Captain. The water is great," she said, banishing his thought about her not having noticed him.

"I'll wait a little. I might learn something," he said, trying to stall. I thought I was a decent swimmer. But I'm not getting in the pool with her, although my flopping around in the water might give her some amusement.

Knowing exactly what was wrong, having experienced it many times before she met the Matthews, and even now, her sister-wives were prone to find excuses for not swimming laps with her, she swam toward the side of the pool. Diving and putting on a burst of speed, she did something and was suddenly standing on the side of the pool nearest Madison.

"Shit!" Bill exclaimed before he thought. Then, "How did you do that?"

"Practice," Helen laughed as she squeegeed the excess water from her body with her hands before picking up a towel. "I coached the girl's swim team for years. I've been in the water a few times," she finished, winking at him.

Madison tried to objectively look at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She didn't have the massive shoulders of professional swimmers, but the muscle tone was obvious. Nor did she have the small breasts that many times went with the sport. He felt himself swell and fought to keep the erection from becoming full-blown. Crap. What's the matter with me? I don't get an erection from just talking to a woman — not at my age. Let alone from a woman that's not my wife. Jeff will have my ass if he comes in and sees a lump in my pants. But damn, she looks good, even in that one-piece suit.

Knowing full-well what was going on as Bill struggled with his body's reaction, Helen smiled at him, thinking, Not bad for an old woman, huh Captain?

Madison realized that Helen looked younger than he had guessed last night. In spite of Diana's admonishments about not calculating Helen's age, he knew that she was a retired school teacher, and the fact had entered into his estimate of how old she looked. Without thinking about that this morning as she stood before him wiping the water off with the towel, he had unconsciously thought of her as being much younger.

What has Jeff got that he can reverse someone's age? Diana looks like a teenager. This retired teacher looks — hell, I don't know — young.

"I'm not usually here this late. I tend to swim early, then drink a cup of coffee with my husband when he comes back from his run. He didn't get back from your suite until late and I ... wound up getting up later," she said, a blush starting at her neck and gradually expanding to her face.

Ignoring her blush, not wanting to embarrass her more, he said, "Whatever Jeff did to me, I feel ... crap, I've already used up a number of adjectives to describe how I feel, and they all seem inadequate."

Helen chuckled, hanging the wet towel over the back of a metal chair. "I know. Trust me on that one. I know. Not only do I feel wonderful, and look younger, my laps have improved beyond anything I ever dreamed."

Madison crossed his legs as he felt himself swell again, having let his concentration slip for a moment. "Well, I don't know how you swam before, but I'm sure not getting into the pool with you while you're swimming laps. Heck, I would probably drown from the wake," he kidded.

"All right," she said, "enough with the flattery. Time to see what you can do."

"Uh uh," Bill tried to object. "I just came to swim a couple of laps to settle that big breakfast I ate. I didn't come..."

Helen grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet, startling him with her strength. "Oh, no you don't. You screwed up and came in at the wrong time. You don't think an old swimming coach is going to miss the chance for a new pupil, do you?" she said, her laughter and good mood catching.

Before he could object again, she launched herself backward still holding onto his hand. Floundering, he crashed into the water laughing so hard he swallowed a mouthful.

As he coughed to clear the water, she smiled sweetly, "Okay, Big Boy. Let's see what you can do," she ordered, motioning toward the other end of the pool.

Sighing, knowing that he was whipped, Madison started out, trying to be as graceful as he could, yet putting everything he had into it.

Twenty feet later as she glided alongside him, seeming to not even bother to swim, she stopped him. He trod water looking at her as she seemed to just stand there relaxed, appearing to barely move her body.

"You look like a rock with arms," she said, giggling.

It should have been an insult, but somehow coming from her, it only made him laugh.

"The first thing I'm going to have to do is teach you to swim."

"But I can swim," he objected. "I swim at the gym all the time. Well, when I have time."

"That's not swimming," she said. "That's practicing for a splashing contest. Now you are going to learn how to swim."

Madison got a bad feeling. The feeling was dead on.

-------

Forty-five minutes later, Bill hung onto the side of the pool knowing that he was going to have to swim to the shallow end to get out. He didn't have enough strength left to push himself out of the pool. The problem was, he didn't have enough strength left to swim to the shallow end, either, and be damned if he was going to pull himself around the edge like some kid that couldn't swim.

Helen leaned down to offer him a hand. His pride forgotten, he reached up to clasp wrists with her. With astonishing strength from such a small package, she bent her knees and leaned slightly backward. Suddenly, he was standing on the side of the pool, his legs shaking, every muscle in his body complaining.

"Don't sit down," she admonished as he started to do just that. "Come on. Walk with me," she finished, taking his arm and starting him around the outside of the room.

Three laps later, he was feeling better, but he still felt weak. "Remind me to never get in the pool with you again," he kidded, but even he wasn't sure that it really was kidding. "Have you ever killed anyone by doing that?"

"Only a few," she said, laughter in her voice. "Let's go get you a glass of orange juice. You will feel better after you get your sugar levels back up a little."

Madison was glad to do anything to get away from the pool, but he knew that he had learned more about swimming this morning than he had in his life. As they left the pool area, he started to turn toward his suite. "No. Let's just go on to the kitchen. You're fine," she said, anticipating his objection to going there with just trunks on.

Although Helen had not told him so, she had been impressed with him. He couldn't swim worth anything at the beginning, but he was an excellent student. He did, without complaint, everything she said as best he could. He had given his absolute best and it showed. Of course, now he was paying for it.

Inside the kitchen a few minutes later, Helen poured him a big glass of juice, and a small one for herself as he sat at the smaller of the kitchen tables. Madison knew she was just being nice, and didn't really need anything, even though she had swum right beside him most of the time as she coached him like a drill sergeant. He had lost count of how many laps he had made, but his body felt like it had been far too many.

Helen pulled her cap off, tossing her hair as she put the cap on the counter. She smiled and glanced toward the door. A moment later the door opened and all the wives trooped in.

"Well, I see you survived," Laura said, a smile on her face.

Not familiar with the women's increasing ability to know what their husband and to a lesser extent, each other, were doing, he just thought that one of them had seen them swimming. "Just barely," he sighed, setting the half-empty glass down and grinning at her.

"We've learned to stay away from the pool while Helen is swimming laps," Melissa chimed in, smiling at Helen.

"Physical education is part of a well-rounded education," Helen teased. "It just sometimes hurts a little more. Besides, they all swim like fish, anyway."

"We do all swim well," Ann said as she headed for the fridge, "but compared to Helen, we're just barely past drowning, and she gets better all the time."

The door opened and Kathy, Linda and Evie walked in. "We finally found you," Linda said to her dad, hugging him. "Your billfold was on the dresser and your clothes were on the bed, so we thought you had gone for a swim. When you weren't there, we decided to check the kitchen. Can I go with Evie to get an outfit to wear to the music concert tonight?" she asked, handing him his billfold.

"Sure," Bill said, laughter in his voice. "How much is this going to set me back," he asked as he opened the billfold and quickly extracted two, one-hundred dollar bills.

"Wait, Bill," Evie said. "This is our treat."

"No way," he responded, pressing the money into Linda's hand as he spoke to Evie. "You've already given her an expensive guitar." Turning back to his daughter, he continued, "If that isn't enough, you've got your credit card."

Evie and Dave had already made up their minds to buy Linda an outfit, so Evie didn't debate the issue any further. Better to just do it and argue about it later, she thought.

Soon Evie, Linda and Kathy were on the way to the western store to get Linda's outfit. Bill had gone to his suite to get out of the wet swimsuit. Wainwright and Margaret were trying to slap a tennis ball back and forth across the net, but the wind gusts had picked up, making everything problematic. Still, they were laughing as they tried new variations of Kentucky windage to keep the ball inside the lines.

-------

"Tell me why you're selling this place," Jeff said to Ed Thompson. "You obviously love it."

"Well, like we told Dave," Ed said, nodding toward Dave, who was sitting in the front seat of the pickup as they sat talking by the stream, "arthritis has hit me pretty hard. I can't lift anything much any more, and working cattle with my cutting horse about breaks me in two when he abruptly changes direction to head off the cow. I had a couple of blown disks in my lower spine. The operation helped with the pain, but my legs and feet still swell from the arthritis. I'm just not the man I used to be."

Jody took over for her husband. "We don't want to sell; we just don't have any alternative. The taxes on so much land will eat us up without the income from the farm. My arthritis isn't as severe as Ed's, but I can't lift much, either. We just can't operate the place anymore. The last year was really rough on us."

"Oh, we're still thankful that the disease isn't any worse than it is. I thought I was in bad shape until I started going to my rheumatologist," Ed said. "But after seeing other people in the waiting room, many of them much younger than I am, I decided that other folks had it worse. I've known this doctor for years. He's a friend of the family. About a year ago, I was having my checkup that I have every three months, and I was bitching about how much I hurt and having to take pain pills and other stuff, when I realized that he had tears in his eyes.

"Well, needless to say, that got my attention. He told me that a twenty-six year old woman that was one of his patients had died during the night, and he had been at the hospital all night with her. About six months later, he told me that an eighteen-year old girl had died. Both of them from arthritis. My variety just affects my muscles and joints, but there are other types that attack internal organs like the lungs and liver — basically a death sentence. We're both okay; we just can't do the things we used to do. And running this farm, as big as it is, is fast becoming too much for us.

"Our kids have families and lives of their own. Our daughter is a doctor, and our son is a vice president of a big outfit. Both of them make good money and don't want to have anything to do with running a farm. So we're stuck with selling it."

Dave glanced over at his friend as Ed finished. A muscle bunched in Jeff's jaw, and it didn't take a genius to tell that he was stressed.

"What if you didn't have this arthritis?" Jeff asked, looking in the mirror to catch Ed's eye.

"Yeah, and if pigs could fly..." Ed satirically said.

"Bear with me, just for the sake of argument, as the expression goes. What if you two were in good health, would you still sell the farm, cut back on how much land you farm and ranch, or continue with the whole operation?"

When Ed started to say something, Jeff broke in with, "Please, just humor me. What would you do?"

Ed looked over at his wife. "We've worked hard all our lives, and we've put a little aside. But I don't think I would ever want to stop farming if our health was good. But twelve-hundred acres are more than I want to do for another year. I guess if I had my druthers, I'd keep about four hundred acres — maybe split it half-and-half between farmland and pastureland."

"What if the feeding part of it was automated enough so that things would take care of themselves with, say a little occasional supervision from Carla? Wouldn't you folks like to travel a bit? Surely you haven't had much chance with this big farm and ranch operation you've been running all these years?"

Jody spoke up. "That's one of the things on our agenda when we sell the place. Neither of us has even been out of the state. Oh, we got Sam to take care of the farm for a couple of days every now and then, but other than going to the hospital to have my kids, or the night that Ed spent in the hospital for his back operation, we haven't stayed overnight anywhere in years."

"When we get back to the house, how about the two of you sitting down and sketching out a rough map of the four hundred acres you might like to keep, plus your house area to keep for yourselves. That way, if you do get better, you'll have enough land left to raise some cattle and the food to support them. Can't hurt. We'll still want the first option to buy that property if you decide to sell, for the same reasons we discussed before."

Ed and Jody looked at each other, their faces showing relief that had not been present before. "I think we would like that a lot better," Jody said, her voice choking up.

"Good," Jeff said. "Now how do I get across this creek?"

The creek appeared to be about thirty feet wide. "Just stay between the posts and you'll be fine," Ed said, leaning forward and motioning with his hand to two white posts about twelve feet apart on either side of the creek. "I've put more loads of gravel in here to make this ford than you'll ever believe. It's only about two feet deep across the ford this time of year, but as the fall rains come, we'll have to go around by the road. This will be too deep to cross, even on the ford."

Jeff eased into the swiftly flowing water as it went over the underwater dam formed by the gravel. The water level came almost to the bottom of the doors, but none came inside as they crossed.

"We'll go back the long way around the road," Ed said. "That way you will get the rest of the view of the back sections."

Another couple of hundred yards later, Jeff stopped atop a small hill. "Carla has a fence around part of the creek in her lower pasture," Jeff said. "When the creek crosses her property, it goes around three sides of that section, but your part of the creek seems to go almost straight through your property."

"Well, that's because we essentially moved the creek. It kept flooding a lot of usable land because it ambled around the whole backside of the place. I damned it up, then cut a ditch almost straight through our property, redirecting the water, connecting back to the original creekbed just before it got to Carla's place. It cut down on the flooding. Within a couple of years, it had widened and deepened the ditch that I made for it until it looks like nature did it. Changing its course enabled us to farm all this bottomland. It raises a tremendous crop of most anything you plant on it, but the soil isn't undermined with water the way it was when the creek wound around so much of it. All that water didn't go around. A lot of it seeped through the ground in this low area.

"Essentially, we had about ten inches of soil, a hard pan, then a swamp underneath. I found that out the hard way many years ago. I was turning the field with a big set of moldboard plows..."

At Jeff's blank look, Ed elaborated. "They're turning plows that leave a big flat furrow that you put the tractor wheel in on the next round of the field. Anyway, the ground is sandy loam and really plows easily. I got a little frisky and had let the plows down to about ten inches. Suddenly, my right wheel just dropped to the axle as it went through that pan, and the hole the wheel was in quickly filled with water. I couldn't get the plows unhooked from the tractor because of the weight of the tractor on them.

"With my jinking back and forth to try and get out, the other wheel broke through. Now Fred was sitting on his frame with the cab of the tractor almost on the ground. I wasn't going anywhere. I called Jody on the radio and she brought Ethel and a good chain."

"Fred and Ethel?" Frank laughed. "Don't tell me..."

"Yep. We were into watching I Love Lucy in those days. Well, anyway, we buried Ethel trying to pull Fred out with those plows jammed into the ground. It took the third tractor and half a day to get me out of the hole I had dug myself and the plows into. That's when I moved the creek so it could go on through my property instead of meandering around the outside and making a hidden swamp under the bottomland."

"I think I would have liked to have seen that," Jeff grinned.

"Trust me," Ed said. "It was enough to make a preacher cuss. Our wells usually give us all the water we need for irrigation, but we always have the creek if we need more. But I'm still careful if I have to use the moldboards around that creek."

Jeff stood looking at the land stretched out below them. It wasn't hard to see where the creek had originally been, and as he traced its original path with his eyes, his face broke into a grin. Turning to Jody, he said, "Let's go get another cup of that fine coffee of yours, if you would be so kind. I think we can work this out so that we'll all be pleased. Once we rough it out on paper, we'll get the lawyers involved and get everything underway. You two will still have your four hundred acres, your equipment, barns and home. And Carla will wind up with another eight hundred acres or so of fine farm and ranch land.

"Now show me how to get to that back road. Oh, and I need to get my wife and the rest of my family down here to meet you two. I think you'll like them."

-------

Later, Jeff sat in the living room with Diana on his lap. After bringing her up to date about the Thompsons' farm, she told him about watching Frank and Margaret playing tennis a short while ago. "I sat down to catch the weather on the TV, then watched the two of them trying to play tennis with the wind gusting something fierce. No way could they have a real tennis match with the wind blowing the ball so randomly, but they spent as much time kissing and groping each other as they did trying to bat the ball back and forth."

Taking time out to kiss her husband, Diana continued, "These two weeks have been good for those two. Now there's going to be a wedding."

"Yeah," Jeff replied, "but we're going to have to hire some temporary help to clean the rooms. Probably some of their closest friends will want to come a day or two early. And there's no way we can allow guests to drive down the mountain after they've been drinking at the wedding reception."

Diana smiled at him. "I've been thinking about that, and we've all discussed it. The girls have volunteered to do all the cleaning of the rooms as well as the washing of bed linens and towels. Helen, Laura and I will do the cooking. The girls will help serve, and we'll all pitch in wherever we're needed. We'll have the wedding dinner and reception catered, of course..."

Jeff frowned as he looked at his beautiful wife. "Baby, are you sure about this? Didn't I hear Margaret say she had to invite thirty or forty people? That's a lot of room cleaning, and it will have to be done quickly. Not to say anything about cooking for all those people."

Diana laughed a little and put her finger under his chin, then kissed him. "Our fabulous kitchen is set up to feed more people than that. And I thought about getting Martha to close her restaurant for a couple of days to come help out. But we haven't settled on that. We could easily do it ourselves. We're still in the planning stage, though. The kitchen has duplicates of everything, as you're aware. We haven't even used the big potato peeler..."

"Potato peeler? Then why did I peel those by hand the other day? And I've seen all my wives peeling potatoes at one time or another. I thought we had a potato peeler," he mused.

Diana laughed at him. "Sometimes it's just easier to peel them by hand since there are so many cooks. The big peeler takes longer to clean than it does for several of us together to peel enough potatoes for a meal. We'll just put up the big bar and feed everyone in the big dining room. Remember, we work together well as a team," she grossly understated. "Besides, we found the uniforms that Frank's staff wore. We'll get some more made up just like them. We won't tell anyone who we are. We'll just let them think that the place still belongs to Frank and Margaret. We'll have a ball. The girls are almost jumping up and down to do it."

Smiling at the shocked expression on her husband's face, she continued, "People will figure it out, well, at least part of it at the wedding, because Margaret is going to use us as her bridesmaids. But it will all be great fun."

Jeff sighed, not totally agreeing with her, knowing that they were facing a lot of work. Another subject, he said. "Evie is spending a lot of time with Linda, and we've been kidding Dave about it, telling him that Bill is going to be his father-in-law and stuff like that. But do you really think that Evie is actually considering Linda for a second wife for Dave? He's obviously taken with her, but he's also vehement that he's a one-woman man."

"She's hinted at it," Diana said, pulling back from him a little so that she could look directly into her husband's face. "And she's out buying Linda an outfit for the music festival tonight. I'm really beginning to think that she's serious about this. There's something going on. I want you to ask the healer about the things we talked about as soon as you can."

"I haven't exactly had a lot of free time lately. And ... I'll have to be with Bill again tonight and tomorrow night. The healer seems to use three sessions to start the full reversing process. That's what she seemed to be telling me last night, also."

Jeff leaned forward and briefly kissed his wife, then, "I'm a little worried about this thing with Linda," he said, frowning. "Our marriage with each of my wives came about gradually, and logically, it seems. But Linda ... well, Bill is liable to have a come-apart when he figures out what Evie is considering. I still don't understand this. I thought that Evie would never even think about something like we have for her and Dave. I know we've been kidding Dave about this, but sitting and talking about it like this, it just seems..."

Diana's face took on a look of contemplation. "It might not work out. Linda might not want Dave for her husband. But the way she looks at him, I think there could be a lot more to this than just the music. Dave is a nice looking guy and he has a strong personality — much like yours. And I do mean strong, not overbearing. He's always helping others, will pitch in to help his people anytime. I think that Linda will fall head-over-heels for him if she's around him much."

Snuggling back against her husband and putting her head against his shoulder, she continued, "So you haven't had a chance to talk to the healer at all? I had hoped you might find out a little while you were using her on Bill."

"Not really. I was going to do that when I came back to bed this morning after she finished with him, but well ... somebody I know woke up and grabbed my dick. Then everybody else got into the act, as you well know."

"I didn't hear you complaining," she giggled against his chest.

"It would take an idiot to do that," he said, tilting her head back in order to kiss her again.

"So back to Linda and Evie..."

"I think Evie has been thinking along the lines of another wife for Dave for several weeks now, and I think the healer has something to do with it. She's complained that she can't completely satisfy Dave any longer. Even though her body recovers much faster than it used to, she gets too sore to give him all the sex that he apparently needs. She says that they have always been very compatible sexually, but things are changing with Dave.

"She says that he doesn't complain, but she knows that he is staying in the bathroom longer than he used to, and it's upsetting her that she isn't satisfying him. She says it's not right for her husband to have to masturbate. She says that she is always sexually excited around him, but just can't do it enough for Dave. She says he is larger than he used to be, too. She has also started thinking about how we — all us sister-wives — interact with each other."

Leaning back to look her husband in the face, "Jeff, I once would have had a stroke to think about you with another woman, and I was jealous, on and off, when you and Arlene first started making love, as you know, but after awhile it just seemed right. Then as the others came along, it felt normal. Now, I find myself checking out women we meet, wondering if they are smart enough, and pretty enough to be another wife for you."

Jeff sighed, but Diana continued, "That's one of the reasons that I want you to ask all those questions of the healer. I want to know about the society she comes from. I'm beginning to think this is the way the first bitch, first wife, or whatever they're called, is supposed to act in their society. You have told me that she has hinted enough about this so that you know that the society has families that sometimes have more than one wife. I want to know everything that I can about that."

"No use in reinventing the wheel, huh?" he teased. Then when she frowned, "Okay, I've already told you that I'll try to talk to her in detail about it."

Unconsciously rubbing his chest, Diana asked, "Do you suppose I could talk directly to the healer?"

"Well you talked to her when I was down because of the bear..."

Diana shifted in his lap, unsure, "Yeah, but that was rudimentary at best. More just a feeling than anything else. I would like to try again, but ... to be truthful, she scares me a little. A machine like that going into my mind..."

Jeff tried not to focus on Diana's breasts when they shifted under her top as she moved. "She is a machine, in the strictest sense, I guess, but she's a being as well. I swear that she seems to have hopes and feelings, or at least what I'm interpreting as such. But she's a ... person."

"Well, if I could talk to her directly, I could try to ask her some things that might be ... embarrassing to go through you."

"That bad, huh?" he teased, grinning, lightening the conversation. "I'll talk to her soon, but even I will have trouble with concepts about her society. Without you two having established things between you like she and I have, it might be hard going in the beginning for you to talk to her directly. I'll try to ask her about the things that you and I have talked about, then we'll see."

Diana knew where her sister wives were, also knew that they frequently stayed away in order for her to have private time with her husband. Pushing her breasts against him as she snuggled into his arms, a feeling of safety enveloped her. Her eyes slowly closed and she slept, content.



-------

Chapter 45


Evie, Kathy and Linda took the packages out of the vehicle and went in the back. Evie smiled at Linda as they walked side by side down the hallway, Kathy following a step behind. "Don't worry about your dad. I'll talk to him," Evie said. "You bought the first outfit; Dave and I just bought the other two and the boots. He might grump a little," she laughed, "he's a man. But when he sees how pretty you look in those cowgirl outfits, he'll quit. Just show him what you bought and give him his change back, then I'll hit him with the rest of it."

"I hope you're right. I don't want to make Daddy mad at me," she fretted.

Evie glanced at Kathy for a second and thought. She wouldn't be this worried about her father being mad at her about something like this if it were not for what her mother has done. She's worried that her father will leave her, too. It makes my heart break. She can't get over thinking that she had something to do with it.

As they continued on, Evie put her arm around Linda's shoulder for a moment and said, "Here's what we'll do."

-------

Fifteen minutes later, the three, with Kathy dressed in one of her new outfits, walked into the living room. Jeff, Dave, Bill and Frank were sitting in a circle discussing the farms when the women walked in.

Since Dave was facing the door, he saw Linda in her new outfit first. Evie was watching her husband. When she saw his face soften as he saw Linda, Evie felt pride course through her. She has just about got you, my wonderful husband. I can see it in your face. Maybe one day soon you will have more than one woman so that you can show Jeff that he's not the only one with a harem. Evie almost gasped out loud when she realized what she had just thought. Momentarily confused, wondering if she were doing the right thing by pushing them together, she almost missed what Linda told her father.

"Like my outfit?" Linda said, hugging her dad, stepping back for him to see, then slowly pirouetting. She was wearing a beige, felt cowgirl hat, a predominantly red plaid shirt, consisting of faint red and green stripes on a beige background, with red roses showing green leaves around them interspersed about the shirt. Tight Wrangler jeans and tan, high gloss western boots completed the ensemble. The shirt fit her like the proverbial glove, accentuating her high breasts and small waistline.

"Wow!" Bill exclaimed. "You look great in that, Kitten." As Bill's eyes took in her boots and hat, his brain did some fast arithmetic. Those two hundred dollars he gave her probably wouldn't buy the hat. He hadn't even thought of a hat and boots when he gave her the money. Oh, well, she had her card. I would buy her ten of those outfits just to see that smile on her face after all she has been through lately.

When the compliments from everyone died down, Evie leaned over and whispered in Linda's ear. "Go put on another of your outfits. I'll take care of your dad."

Linda smiled at her and took off.

Evie grasped Bill's hand and said, "Come here," towing him into the hallway as Dave grinned after them.

When they were alone, and before Bill could say anything, Evie said. "First off. Don't get mad at your daughter. I wouldn't let her charge anything. She spent a little over a hundred dollars of your money. Please stop," she said, placing a finger on Bill's lips, startling him. "We really like Linda, and we wanted to do this. She loves our music, and she's going to love tonight at the festival as well, especially in her outfit — you can see what a knockout she is in it. She'll really make an impression. I can't tell you how important that is at her age. We bought her two other outfits. But please don't spoil it for her. She was so worried that you were going to be mad at her for letting us buy her the things."

Bill took a deep breath. "You hardly know us. Why would you do this?"

Evie sighed. "I could give you all the stock answers: we feel sorry for her for what she's going through; we don't have anyone to spend our money on; well, any number of things. Truth is, it just feels right. Both my husband and I care for her and it made us happy to do it. Please don't be mad. We know that you can afford anything for your daughter, but please let us do this."

"Well, I..."

Evie grabbed Bill and hugged him. "Make over her, Bill. You're her world right now, and logic or not, she's afraid that she'll lose you just like she did her mother. You're all she talks about."

Bill smiled down at Evie. "Okay. I'll take it like a man," he kidded. "But this isn't over yet. You two are spending too much money on her. Somehow we're going to have to even this up."

Evie grinned at him and grabbed his hand. "Let's get back inside before she comes back with another outfit on and catches us out here. She'll figure it out in a heartbeat."

Rushing back inside the living room, Bill resumed his seat, and Evie sat in her husband's lap, slow winking at him as she sat down. "She'll be back in a minute," Evie whispered to Dave.

Linda was a little more tentative when she walked through the doorway this time, but when she saw the smile on her father's face, her spirits rose. Although not as sexy, this outfit was more feminine and frilly. Wearing a round, black felt hat, with a pink and white shirt that had long black cuffs with pink fringe, a black vest, black skirt with the same pick fringe continuing on it, and black boots with the fringe around their tops, she didn't look like a working cowgirl, but she surely did look like a pretty one.

Bill knew that the hat and boots of the first outfit probably cost a couple hundred dollars each. The ones with this outfit may not have cost as much, but there was a good chance that the shirt and skirt would make up for them. "Beautiful, Baby. The outfit is beautiful, and you're beautiful in it," he said, bringing a radiant smile to his daughter's lips.

"I have one more," Linda said, coming over and sitting in her father's lap. "But I'll save it for later. Are you mad at me?"

Bill tightly hugged her. "Not at all," he answered, suddenly realizing that he was, indeed, pleased that Evie had gone ahead and bought Linda all the clothes. Just to see her happy, really happy, for the first time in so long made him realize how much contrast it was from her usual appearance lately.

"I know that you've told Evie thank you, but Dave wasn't there, so don't forget him," Bill quietly said to Linda.

Linda got up and went over to Evie and Dave. Putting her arms around both of them as Evie sat in Dave's lap, she hugged them. "Thank you, Dave. I love my outfits — and my wonderful guitar. You have made me so happy. I'm so glad I came up here this weekend."

Linda kissed first Evie then Dave on the cheek as they both hugged her. As Linda left to go change, Evie realized that she was sitting on a growing piece of Dave's anatomy. Turning her head and whispering directly into his ear, she said, "Liked the feeling of those titties against your shoulder there didn't you?" Before he could think of an answer, Evie got up, calling for Linda to wait up as she hurried out of the living room.

-------

Lunch was hamburgers around the pool, with everyone having a good time. Bill, wearing trunks and a loose, button-up shirt to hide the scars on his back, sat near the pool and watched, chatting with Kathy occasionally when she got out of the water to rest. Jeff's younger wives were showing off what Helen had taught them about swimming until Linda got into the pool. When they realized that she couldn't swim as well as they could, they toned it down, gathering around her to talk and have fun.

When Jeff got tired of being dunked by the women, he accepted defeat, crawled out and sat down by Bill.

Bill looked over and grinned at him. "I guess that's one drawback to having seven wives. You didn't stand a chance in there."

"Yeah," Jeff laughed, "and they put new meaning to teamwork. I think I drank half the pool."

"Couldn't have," Bill laughed, "I drank half of it this morning when Helen was torturing me. It has still got water in it, so I guess one of us was a little shy on what went down our throats."

They watched the women for a moment, then Jeff asked, "Seriously, what did you think about Helen's swimming?"

"Well, like I told her, I've never seen anyone move through the water like that. Kathy says that one of the girls told her that Helen is a genius. She sure is as far as moving through the water is concerned. I'm surprised that she isn't swimming professionally, or swimming in the Olympics. But she told me that she just did it for fun and exercise. She said she taught girls' swimming at school."

Gazing at the women that had now gathered in the shallow end to talk, Jeff said, "Watching them compete against each other when they don't have company and can pull out all the stops is just short of amazing. None of them can keep up with Helen, but they're using the techniques that she has taught them. With her coaching, they're closing the gap."

"And what about you?" Bill asked.

"Well, I can get from point A to point B in the water if I have to, but I'm a distance runner and would rather get my exercise on the road. Helen and several of my wives can literally lie in the water on their backs and read a book. I'm told that everyone can float, but that doesn't seem to apply to me. I sink like a rock. If I lie on my back and relax, shortly I'm on the bottom of the pool," he said, laughing. As usual, Jeff had minimized anything that he could do, and was well aware that muscle mass was the reason he didn't float.

There was quiet for a moment, then Bill asked, "Are you going to be back tonight?"

"Unless you tell me not to be. Uh, if you and Kathy..."

Bill remained quiet for a moment, then sighed.

"Look, if I've overstepped..."

"No, no, Jeff. It's nothing like that. I guess it's just this divorce thing. I'm dreading Tuesday like you wouldn't believe. I know that logically I should be going after Jill tooth and nail, wanting to get this thing over with. And I do want it to be over, but I just..."

Jeff looked over at Madison. "There's nothing wrong with continuing to love someone that you have vowed to love for the rest of your life. I can't even imagine what this is doing to you. All I can do is say that I'm sorry."

Bill blew out his breath, realizing that his emotions were about as raw as his daughter's. "It just seems like a nightmare. A nightmare that won't quit, and that I can't wake up from. When I look at Jill, and she looks away, or worse, looks back without any emotion at all, I just can't believe it's her."

Glancing over at Kathy as she laughed and cut up with the women in the water, Bill continued, "Kathy has told me that she'll be there for me when this is over. Oddly enough, I realize now that I've come to love her. I don't know when it happened, but when she talked to me at the park, it hit me that she was a part of my life. She seems almost driven to accomplish whatever she sets out to do. She proved that to me in spades when she gave up everything to get her commercial license. She never asked for a thing. No telling what she did without to be able to pay for things. I didn't charge her for my part of the training, of course. Still, she spent a lot of money and worked her ass off. Somewhere in there, I fell in love with her."

Bill frowned and picked up his drink from the table by his lounge chair. "Trouble is, I'm still in love with my soon-to-be ex-wife."

"So?" Jeff very deliberately said, "Love isn't something that God gives you a certain amount and when it runs out you can't love anyone else, as Diana has reminded me a while back. I love each of my wives, and I mean that I'm in love with them, and I still love my first wife just as much as always. No, as I've said before, I love her more now than when we were first married. I think our capacity for love increases as we love more people. Maybe it's a little like exercising a set of muscles; the more you do it, the more you can."

Bill nodded toward Kathy in the pool. "I'm scared to tell her. She's already made it clear that she has feelings for me. But I'm afraid that she'll think it's just rebound from my marriage. I'm too damn much older than she is. I can just see us out somewhere when one of her acquaintances thinks that I'm her father..."

"That might not be too much of a concern in a few weeks," Jeff said, waving at Jennie as she made a face at him.

Madison sighed, "It's hard to think that's going to happen to me. But whatever you're doing for me, I appreciate it. Other than your wife working me to death this morning, I feel like a million dollars. To add insult to injury, while I'm floundering along putting everything I have into it, she just seems to glide beside me in the water without any effort at all."

Jeff chuckled. "Now you're not by yourself, there. She doesn't cut me any slack, either. The only consolation I have is that she won't go for a distance run with me. Oh, we've jogged up the road a mile or so, mostly to help Fred, but other than that, she just looks as me and grins when I try to get her to go with me."

The men sat relaxed, watching the women swim.

-------

Jeremy was an hour early, but the women had already been working for a while when he knocked on the door. Denise looked at Connie. "You let him in this time, but save some for me."

"Hah," Connie said, "He's not going to be interested in me the way I look. He sees me in work clothes like these every day."

"Yeah, well. Who's already brushed her teeth twice since she got up?" Denise laughed. "Like I said," she repeated to Connie's retreating back, "save some for me."

Connie opened the door, but as soon as she had eye contact with Jeremy, she blushed, remembering all the kissing they had done last night. She opened her mouth to say "Hi," but instead, "Jeremy, I guess I acted like a teenager on her first date last night. I was afraid that you wouldn't even show..."

Jeremy stepped closer, lifted her chin with his finger and gently kissed her for a half minute. The room seemed to move and she leaned against his hard chest for support. "How do you do that?" she quietly asked, almost forgetting to close the door. "I'm not a shy little virgin, but I'm acting like..."

He kissed her again, opening his mouth slightly, pushing against her lips with the tip of his tongue. Her mouth opened of its own accord. He teased the tip of her tongue for a moment, then pulled back. "Good morning, Pretty Lady."

She leaned against his chest again, chuckling, almost giggling. "Damn, Jeremy, you sure know how to say good morning."

Pulling back from him, remembering her friend, she said, "Denise is in the kitchen. Go on in. I'll be there in a little bit."

Connie sat on the sofa in the living room to give Denise time alone with Jeremy. What have I gotten myself into? Why does he excite me so? A little more of that and I would have to change my panties again. Oh, crap. I know that he smelled me last night. My panties were soaked. He hasn't even put his hands on me. If he sucks a nipple, I'll come for sure. He can get me more excited by just kissing than anyone else ever has, no matter what they did, period.

"Come on, Connie," Denise called from the kitchen.

When Connie walked in, Jeremy was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs with Denise in his lap. As she stood, Jeremy looked around. "Hey, you started before I got here. Uh, I guess that was obvious with the drop cloths, paint buckets and ladders. What I meant was, you've already done part of the ceiling."

"Yeah," Denise said, "We got up earlier than we expected, so we got started. But don't worry, there's plenty of painting to keep us here all day. Denise and I have lightly sanded the cabinets, but we left it to the man to put on a new coat of polyurethane. We first thought that we would just paint the walls and ceiling, but changed our minds while we were at the hardware store."

Looking around him, Jeremy said, "You two have really been working."

"Here's the masking tape," Connie said as she handed a roll to him. "Let's see if you're good for anything else," she teased, but turned away when she felt a blush coming on.

Jeremy chuckled and got to work.

-------

Later as they ate their lunch at the dining room table, Denise said, "Sorry about the fried bologna sandwiches. But with painting the kitchen..."

Jeremy put his glass of iced tea down. "I happen to love fried bologna sandwiches. And you two aren't my cooks. You don't have to provide meals for me. Besides, how are you going to do much in there with all the paint stuff everywhere?"

"Yeah, but you gave up your Saturday to help us paint," Connie contributed.

Jeremy waited to swallow another mouthful before he could reply. "I've had more fun in the last few hours than I can remember having — anytime. Uh, well, maybe last night was an exception," he said, grinning. "And I darn sure have never had two good-looking women kissing me every now and then as we work."

"Uh, Jeremy, Denise and I have been talking, well ... for a couple of hours off and on, before you got here. And we ... You ask him, Denise. It's your house," she said stumbling to a close.

Denise suddenly got interested in her food, pushing a potato chip around on her plate before finally looking up at Jeremy. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Didn't you say that your apartment wasn't much, and cost too much?"

Jeremy got another handful of potato chips out of the bowl and put them on his plate. "My apartment is a dump and it isn't in a good neighborhood. And that's bragging on both the apartment and the neighborhood. Now what gives? Both of you are acting funny."

"We talked for a while after you left last night, then again this morning," Denise said, finally looking him in the eye. "She and I are splitting everything right down the middle. House payment, utilities, food. We've been friends — good friends — ever since we started to work for Jackson. When Connie finally dumped that idiot she was living with, I invited her to live with me, as you know."

Hesitating a moment, she glanced at Connie, then continued, "I have a third bedroom. Connie and I think it would be easier on all of us if you joined us here. Do you have to pay the utilities, or do you just pay rent and the utilities are furnished?"

"Are you kidding? I have to pay for everything: water, power, gas, phone, everything."

"Okay, that's what we thought. We made up a list of rules; I guess you could call them. Things that we expect out of each other and our ... association. Things like we don't play the stereo in the living room unless both of us agree to it. We do nothing that makes enough noise to interfere with someone sleeping in the bedroom. No one 'spends the night' with either of us unless it's agreed between us beforehand. We've even sketched out a rough menu of our meals. We can't have one of us wanting steaks every night and the other person trying to save her money to buy something."

Looking at Connie for a second, Denise continued, "We just wrote down all the things that we could think of that irritate us, then added another list of things that we liked to do around the house. We think that we're compatible, and since we're already friends, we know quite a bit about each other, anyway. But ... we like you, obviously," she said, blushing. "The bottom line is, we want to invite you to live here."

Although he was somewhat expecting it from the question about his apartment, the reality that these two sexy women were asking him to live with them almost stunned him, anyway.

Before he could answer, Connie broke in, "But we want to make something else clear so there won't be a misunderstanding. Our arrangement is between friends; not between friends with, uh, benefits. We've been flirting with you and ... kissing you. And don't get me wrong, we weren't just leading you on, but..."

Jeremy reached over and put his hand over Connie's. "I understand."

Connie and Denise looked at each other for a moment. "You tell him," Denise said.

"Uh, we know that this is too soon, but we also discussed something else. Your living here with us will make things easier on all of us. Your college is only thirty-five or so miles away. If this works out and we all get along, it could help you with your college finances. Commuting would probably cost a lot less than living on or near the college. Denise has managed to put a little away, and now that I'm not having to support Shithead, I'll be able to save some."

Connie squeezed Jeremy's hand then moved hers away. She couldn't think clearly while touching him. "If we helped a little, and all of us were really careful with our money, you might be able to finish your schooling when you go back," she said, her voice catching. But ... we want to make something of ourselves, too. And we never had the chance. You got us to thinking last night when you said that we weren't too old to go back to school..."

"You want me to return the favor when I get out of school," Jeremy said, his tone thoughtful.

"We know it's just a pipe dream now," Denise broke in, "but it might work. Three of us will stand a better chance than either of us alone. We could support each other in more ways than just the monetary one. Connie and I have just been coasting along letting life run us. We don't want to do what we're doing for the rest of our lives. Both of us got into this business because it paid a lot better than working at a convenience store, or some other similar job. But we're both reasonably smart. We can do better if we have the chance. We know that the chance is slim, and things might not work out, but we wrote down some goals last night, too."

Sitting back, she thought for a moment, then continued, "We know that there's a good chance that you will meet someone at college and marry her. That would end your being able to help us get in school when you get a good job, but we understand that. Still we would probably have saved some money by then, and..."

Jeremy chuckled as he watched the stressed women. "Now why would I 'meet someone' when I already have two girlfriends," he kidded.

"So, are we your girlfriends now?" Denise asked, a smile touching her face.

"Well, you're girls and you are my friends. Doesn't that make you my girl friends?" he said, laughing.

"No!" both women said in unison.

"We're too old for you," Connie found herself saying, much to her amazement.

"Bullshit!" Jeremy shot back. "If the age difference was turned around the other way, you wouldn't think anything about it. If somebody doesn't like it, screw um."

As the women looked at each other, Jeremy's voice suddenly changed. "Oh, I didn't think. Crap, I'm sorry. Of course you will have other men in your lives. I'm too young to interest you, well other than a little kissing. I'm sorry, I didn't think..."

Both of the women looked startled as they grasped what he was saying. "Jeremy," Denise almost hissed, "That is certainly not a problem with us. We just feel like we're ... well, cheating you because we're older. You could have your pick of good-looking girls your age, or younger. I know that all men like younger women..."

Jeremy's laughter brought her to a halt. "'My pick?' And whoever said that I liked younger women? I don't know what's wrong with the men you two have been around. Someone should have snatched you two foxes up long ago. You're both beautiful. You're levelheaded. Work hard. Kiss like ... Well, I don't have a word to describe it. I had a great time last night. And I'm enjoying just being with you today. I usually hate painting, but I've surely had a good time so far today."

"So what do you think about our idea?" Connie asked.

"Well, I'll have to think about it a little," he said, a mock frown on his face.

Just as Denise started to say something, he interrupted, "Okay. I've thought about it. Hell, yes. I'd be an idiot to turn you two down. If the two of you were cows with bad breath, it would still be a good deal. With you two ... well, let's just say I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth."

"Oh, so now we've moved from being cows to horses," Denise said, laughing.

Jeremy laughed with them. "Sorry, I was raised on a farm." He got up and tilted Denise's face up to his. Gently kissing her, he said, "Thank you very much. I would be pleased to share your house with you."

After he had done the same to Connie, he went back to his chair. Taking the last bite from his third sandwich, he said, "Although I don't know how I'm going to get along without having hard rock jarring the walls of my bedroom until three o'clock every morning. I think I'm the only one in the complex that actually works for a living. They damn sure don't sleep at night. So when do we do this?"

"Uh, when is your lease up?" Denise asked.

"Lease? I rent by the month. They probably don't know what a lease is in that dump."

"In that case, how about now," Denise grinned at him, teasing.

"Uh, I guess. Let's finish the kitchen first," he seriously answered, not realizing that she was kidding.

"Then we had better get started," Connie said as she stood and gathered the plates. "You also need to read our list. Washing dishes and helping clean house is part of the agreement," she added over her shoulder as she carried things to the sink.

"Well, I usually get through washing dishes without breaking anything," Jeremy kidded as he followed her to the sink to rinse his glass.

Denise grinned at him. "You've got the molding around one window and the door left to do. Connie and I will finish the last wall. After that we just have to pick up our drop cloths and put the paint up. How much stuff do you have?"

Embarrassed, he looked at the two women for a second, "Not much. A bed, dresser, a recliner that's seen better days, a small TV and a little cooking stuff. A few clothes, of course, but the most of my good clothes are still at home with my folks. I was afraid that I would be burglarized in my apartment, so I don't have a lot of things there. I even carry my laptop with me when I leave."

"There's a dresser in the third bedroom, but you can use yours if you like it better. We'll put the extra one in the basement. There's room in the living room for the recliner. Sounds like we can make one trip with two pickups and get everything. But we'll sit down at the table and go over the lists that Connie and I have made. You can add anything you want as well. If we're still in agreement when we're done, we'll go get your things, if you like."

Jeremy hugged both women. "My life is looking up," he said. "I'm pretty much a loner. I'll spend a good bit of time in my bedroom studying or surfing the net. All I have at the apartment is dial-up, though."

"I've got DSL, but you'll have to figure out how to get it set up with your computer."

"My wi-fi stuff is at my Mom and Dad's house. I can pick it up next weekend."

They went back to work, continuing to talk about their new relationship.

-------

By eight, they had everything loaded in the two pickups. Jeremy had carried the key to the resident manager, and he had inspected the apartment. Amazing everyone, the manager had given the deposit back without even complaining.

Chuckling at Jeremy, the big black man probably realizing what the look on his face meant, he said, "The place looks better than when you moved into it. That's definitely a rarity around here. My apartments ain't fancy, but I'm not going to cheat you."

Jeremy thanked the man as Denise latched the tailgate of her truck. Turning to him, she said, "Heck, you don't have much more than Connie did." Looking back in the truck at the headboard of Jeremy's bed, she continued, "We might as well put your bed in the basement. Not trying to insult you, but the bed that's already in the room is better than this one."

"Well, that way," Jeremy returned, "we won't have to put it back together. I told you I didn't have much. But maybe one of these days things will be different."

"Yeah, maybe we'll all be rich someday," Connie said, laughing as she went around to the passenger side of Denise's pickup to get in. "Meet you back at the house."

Jeremy got into his truck and waited for the women to pull onto the street before following them, making sure no one bothered them. Stopping at the next traffic light, he watched the women animatedly talking to each other. How in the world have I lucked into something like this? The guys at work will never believe it. Now I'll be able to study without earplugs. Smiling, he followed them on down the street.



-------

Chapter 46

Carla, Jessica, Fred and the men that Dave and Evie had assigned to help on the farm, all worked until dark Saturday night. As they finished for the day, Fred asked everyone to park their equipment at the edge of the back yard.

The three waved to the people as they left, then Fred turned to Carla. "As soon as we get caught up with this harvest, we need to get an outlet put out here for the pressure washer and the steam cleaner. Uh, and the air compressor, too. It'll be easer to knock a little dirt off on a regular basis, instead of letting it build up on all this nice new equipment. After the barn and equipment building are rebuilt, we can move everything there, of course."

"Yeah, we used the washer fairly regularly, before those bastards burned everything we had," Carla said. "It was in the shed at the end of the barn. Come on, you look tired. Let's get inside. You can watch TV or take a shower while Jessica and I get some supper going."

"That's sounds inviting, but while you're doing that, I'm going to take the hose to all this stuff."

Carla turned back to him. "You don't have to do that now..."

"Ah, it won't take more than a half hour. I want to knock the trash and dirt off while it will come off pretty easy. I'll be with you in a little while," he said going over to the hose.

Giving in, "Okay, hardhead," she laughed. "We'll get our man some food on the table." Realizing what she said, and wondering if she had insulted Fred, she took Jessica's arm, and walked toward the house.

When they were out of earshot, she glanced at her daughter, "Well, I..."

"Was that a Freudian slip there, Mom?" Jessica interrupted, laughing. "Is he our man, now?"

Carla chuckled. "I guess I really stuck my foot in my mouth, huh?"

"I don't know," Jessica said as they mounted the short flight of steps to the back door, "it sounded pretty good to me."

They stopped and Jessica turned to her daughter. "He is a nice man. He's really busted his butt for us. Not to say anything about spending all that money on our horses. We'll pay him back, of course, when we make some money. I still can't believe he spent that much on us. Surely he wouldn't do that just to ... well, you know."

"Mom, if he's doing that to get some pussy, he could surely do better than the two of us. He could buy some high-priced call-girl for a month for what he paid for the horses."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe he's just missing his wife so much that he did that for us. Heck, I don't know. And don't be crude."

"Oh, Mom. Don't tell me you're getting irritable just because we've worked twelve hours straight," she laughed.

Sighing, Carla said, "Come on. Let's fix our man some supper. I need some food in me, too. I'm so tired that I'm not thinking straight."

A little later, Jessica went out to get the mail. When she came back in, she pushed two big boxes through the front door into the living room. "Mom, did you order anything?" she asked pushing the boxes in off the porch. Then answering her own question when she saw the name on the label, she said, "Oh, these belong to Fred. They're from Western Wear down the road. I guess they must have delivered them. There's not a label from FedEx or UPS. Just the Western Wear sticker and Fred's name."

Carla walked into the living room, eyeing the boxes. "Diana probably had them delivered. Fred is going to crap himself when he sees all this. She must have bought out the store," she finished, laughing. Turning toward the hall, she said, "Watch the beans that I'm warming up. I'm going to take a quick shower, then you can. When I get back, I'll start his steak."

Fred came in the back a few minutes later to find the women in the kitchen. "Get yourself a quick shower," Carla said, "I'm putting your steak on. It'll be ready when you are."

Fred laughed as he headed for his room, "I'm darned sure ready for it," he said over his shoulder. "I'm starved and I'm not going to even think about a diet tonight."

When he returned a few minutes later, he asked, "What's with the boxes in the living room?"

"They're yours," Jessica said, smiling. "They're from Western Wear down the road. We figure that Diana made a sizable dent in the store's inventory."

"Western Wear?" Fred said. "Surely that's not all western stuff."

"You're in Colorado, now Georgia Boy," Carla said, putting a plate in front of Fred with a big steak on it. "Nobody will look at you twice if you're wearing jeans, a western shirt, a Stetson and boots. Heck most of the farmers and ranchers in the area will think you're a tourist if you aren't."

When the food was all on the table and the women were in their places, Fred bowed his head for a moment. Jessica and her mother glanced at each other. "If you want to do that aloud," Carla said, "we certainly have no objection."

Fred picked up his knife and attacked his meat. "Uh, thanks. But it would probably embarrass me to death. I don't know if I'd even know what to say."

The three ate in silence for a time, then Fred took a drink of his coke and looked at the women. "I've had a lot of time to think while I was running that combine. The first day, I thought about Brenda just about all day. I remember her voice so clearly that sometimes it's as if she's talking to me." Fred swallowed hard to keep his voice from cracking. "It's as if she is encouraging me to do this," he said, looking quickly down at his plate, then cutting several pieces of meat to give himself time to blink away the tears, fooling no one.

"Fred, we know," Carla said, putting her hand on his for a moment. "We still miss Sam as much as we ever did. Always will, I guess. Sometimes Jessica and I just look at each other and burst into tears. I would have loved to have met Brenda. It's obvious that she was a good woman, and a good wife."

"Crap, I still can't believe it happened. It should have been my fat ass. How could she have a heart attack?"

"I know. We feel the same way about Sam. He watched his diet, worked hard, seemed to be in perfect health until the cancer started bothering him. It was hard to accept that he had cancer then — still is. Let alone that he's not going to come through that back door in the next minute."

Fred put some more beans and potatoes on his plate. Jessica handed him the gravy. "For western gals, you two sure know how to cook southern food," Fred tried to kid.

"Steak, beans, creamed potatoes and gravy are western food," Carla laughed. "Who're you kidding? They're staples around here. We work for a living. We need something to stick to our ribs."

Fred, his voice under control now with their little jokes, caught the women's eyes for a second. "Jeff has been good to me. The whole bunch of them have. Extremely good. But, well ... When we're done with the harvest and the other things that we've got going, I hope that you will let me help out a little every now and then. Somehow I've been almost ... at peace for the first time today, since Brenda died. I'm enjoying the work, and well ... being with you two..."

Jessica got up and hugged him, then startling all three of them, she leaned over and kissed him. "You don't have to go anywhere, so you don't have to worry about coming back. Mom and I want you here," she said, turning to look at her mother. Seeing her mother nod, she continued, "We like having a man around. And you fit the bill just fine."

Embarrassed, Fred returned to eating as Jessica went back to her chair, looking at her mother.

"I spent a good bit of time on the phone with Jeff, then the Thompsons. I need to visit them tomorrow afternoon. But if the deal does go through, we'll have another eight hundred acres of farm, effectively doubling what we have now. Even with the automation, Jessica and I can't handle both farms by ourselves. We want to have you to help us, but ... more than that, we want you to be here because you're our friend. Maybe the friendship will help ease all of our sorrows. You're always welcome here, Fred."

Looking at her daughter, she continued, "Jessica and I have already discussed getting rid of the hospital bed in the other bedroom. It's way past time. We'll put the bedroom furniture back in there as soon as we get a chance. It will make a nice room for you."

Fred put his knife and fork on his empty plate and pushed back a little from the table. "I think I would like that."

The women smiled at him, all three people wondering what was going to happen.

-------

Frank and Margaret had decided to go into Winter Park to eat out, the couple insisting that Bill and Kathy go with them. Frank winked at Jeff as he left through the back door. Shortly, Evie, Dave and Linda, all dressed for the festival, loaded their instruments into Dave's Escalade. The Matthews clan relaxed in the living room watching the SUV on the security system as the vehicle wound down the drive.

"You know that Frank and Margaret did that to give us some time alone," Diana said.

"Yeah," Arlene said, and there's no use in wasting it." Getting up, she kicked off her shoes, jerked down her shorts and panties, and as she stepped out of them, pulled her top up along with her bra. Flipping the lever to bring Jeff to an almost upright position on the recliner, she straddled him, holding her top and bra out of the way. She guided an already dripping nipple to his mouth with the other hand as she settled onto his lap. "Suck, Daddy. It's been too long. My sister-wives help me, and I also use the breast pump, but it's not the same. Suck my milk, Husband."

It was hard to see Jeff's smile past the breast stuck in his mouth, but everyone knew the smile was there, anyway.

"Suck, hard," she insisted, then, "Yesss," as Jeff complied.

"I've been hot all day," she said, but her voice rose on the last couple of words as her first orgasm neared. Jeff sucked more as her sweet milk flooded his mouth.

Ann stood behind Arlene and pulled her back against her chest. Grasping Arlene's top, Ann pulled it over her head, then went after the fastening on the bra. Soon it was on the floor with the rest of Arlene's clothes. Jennie and Melissa had managed to get Jeff's belt unbuckled, then as Arlene came down from her orgasm, got her to move back enough to get his pants unbuckled and unzipped. With a little fumbling, the two soon had their husband's pants, shorts and socks on the floor, his big cock standing straight up. Jennie was quick to reach under Arlene from behind and guide Jeff's cock to his daughter's pussy. Arlene wasted no time in wiggling down on his dick until her cervix jammed against the head.

"Uuummp," she grunted as her cervix and the head of his cock connected with force.

Jeff took his hands from her breasts and grasped her hips, raising her enough so that he could move, then began slow thrusts into the wiggling teenager. Arlene wanted it faster and harder, but he held her and continued with the slow movements. Squealing, she tried to speed things up, but it was useless against his strength. He continued for several minutes as she struggled to increase the pace, her next orgasm hanging on the edge. Abruptly, Jeff stroked faster, shoving harder against her womb. Her breasts bouncing, drops of milk forming on her nipples, she crashed over.

"No, no," she tried to say as she fought to stay conscious. "I want more. Don't make me faint," she gasped.

Jeff eased back the pressure, both with his dick and his concentration. Shivering, she finished her orgasm and slumped against him, giggling. "Oh, wow. I can't believe I lasted through that," she gasped. "Now suck my milk again. I still fantasize about my daddy nursing my breasts. I want you to do it again, then pound me like I like so much. My sisters will take care of me after that, and you can do them, Daddy."

Jeff grinned at her while pulling on her nipple, making her milk squirt. "I told you that you can call me Jeff, if you want to. You're my wife. You don't have to call me Daddy."

"But I want to. In the first place, that's what I've always called you. And calling you Daddy while we're fucking just turns me on more."

Jeff grinned at her knowing that she used the crude term because that turned her on as well. It was time that he made love to his daughter again, though, instead of just fucking, he thought. But not today. Obviously the teenagers were in the mood for sport, and he certainly had no objections.

Arlene, now fully recovered, pushed a breast against Jeff's mouth, both hands on the back of his head. "Pound me, Daddy, and suck my nipple. Make me come hard."

Jeff again held her hips, lifting her up enough to give him room to thrust up into her. Starting slowly, he maintained that until she complained, then gradually increased the pace and the amount of pressure he was putting on her cervix. Her orgasm started along with her squeal, which increased in volume and pitch until she slumped against him, her pussy spasming around his spurting cock.

Diana and Laura, both smiling, their nipples tenting their tops, eased the unconscious Arlene from Jeff's lap and onto the floor where they made her comfortable with a pillow from one of the couches. Helen put a washcloth under Arlene's drooling pussy.

Jennie climbed aboard assisted by Melissa. Diana guided her husband's cock to Jennie's wet pussy. Laura, Helen and Diana took turns kissing each other, awaiting their turn as Jeff fucked another of his young wives.

-------

Jeff, Bill and Frank were in the living room just before midnight when the security system warned of Dave's SUV starting up the drive. Grinning, knowing he was on the system despite the darkness, Dave motioned toward the back seat and mouthed, "Asleep."

Jeff chuckled at the look of relief on Madison's face, but at the same time, realized that he would be just as apprehensive if any of his wives were gone for a while, let alone with people that he didn't know very well.

"Come on Bill, let's go in the kitchen and start some coffee. If I know Dave and Evie, Linda will be bursting to tell you about the great time she had with them."

Shortly the women came in and put out plates and pastries. Before the coffee was poured, the kitchen door burst open and Linda came in, followed shortly by Dave and Evie. Both of the adults were smiling as Linda marched up to her dad and said, "Make a lap."

Laughing, Bill shoved his chair back from the table. Plopping down in his lap, she turned toward him, leaning her back against the table. Pushing her hat back a little, she started, her sentences running together and the words tumbling out in her exuberance. "Oh, Daddy. I had the best time. I want to go again. They let me sing. I did a solo. I got a standing ovation. They liked me. It's the neatest place. The acoustics are wonderful. You can just talk on that stage and someone can hear you in the back. With all those instruments, it feels like the sound is all around you. They let me sing and I loved it. I wasn't scared at all. Everybody is so nice. There's a bunch of old people that used to play in bands. They've played their whole lives. They're good. They can play anything, just like Dave and Evie. And everybody liked me. Dave wouldn't let the boys bother me. He glared at them, and they left. Evie stayed right with me whenever we went anywhere. They didn't even charge me for my hamburger at the concession stand, because I sang. They didn't charge Dave and Evie either, and they let us in free. I think they built the place. Daddy I..."

Bill threw his arms around her and hugged her tight enough to make her squeal. Linda laughed at herself for her outburst. Pushing back from him, she said more calmly, "I did have a good time, Daddy. There must have been twenty people that played at one time or another. We sang songs on the way there. I was just sitting in the front row listening to everyone play and kid around, when Evie motioned for me to come up there. I figured that she was going to send me to get her a coke or something. She put the music to one of the songs up and asked me to sing it with her. Well, you know that I sang at school every now and then, so I wasn't scared. Evie and I sang, and Dave and a couple of the old guys played."

Linda looked around her at all the smiling faces. "Then Evie put the music up for the song that I had been singing on the way to the festival. She whispered that she would back me up if I had problems. Then told me to sing it. Dave has a way of playing the intro so I know exactly when to start. I did okay. When I got through, there was silence for a couple of seconds, then everybody started clapping. Then they stood up. That scared me to death. I didn't know what to do. I just smiled at them and went and sat back down. My knees were shaking by then."

Evie sat beside Madison, took a sip of her coffee, then smiled at Bill. "She was as professional as I've ever seen. She had the audience eating out of her hand with the two songs. Well, three. The three of us sang and played one other song, later. That's the first standing ovation I have ever seen that audience give anybody. Most of them are friends or relatives of some of the musicians. It's a family thing in every sense of the word. Everything from babies to eighty-year-olds. A lot of the time, the audience sits around and gossips while the musicians chat, or tell stories. Then one of them will strike up something, and everyone on stage will chime in. Every now and then someone will sing. There's usually a little applause, but nothing like she got. Heck, I could almost be jealous. They liked her."

"Daddy, you have got to go with us the next time. I promise, you'll love it. And you too, Kathy," she finished, turning to Kathy who was sitting at the end of the table.

"Well, I..."

"You're invited," Dave said. "And like Linda, I think you would enjoy it. It's predominantly old county music, but like Linda said, most of these people can play anything. The musicians range from sixteen to well into their seventies. Many of them have played professionally, and are now retired. Right now, they're having it every other weekend. During the worst of the winter, they usually drop back to once a month. Sometimes in the summer, they have it every weekend."

"Come on, Daddy. Say you'll go."

"Well, I'd like to go," Kathy broke in. "So we'll talk him into it."

"Okay, okay. I'll go. But nobody gets me on that stage," Madison said. "That's going to be understood before we even leave here."

"Ah, come on Bill. A father and daughter duet would be really nice. Besides, you'll have plenty of time to practice. And you didn't have any problem singing with us."

"There's a lot of difference between singing in an impromptu quartet around here, or having fun like we did in your apartment, and singing on stage."

"We'll schedule you for week-after-next," Evie said, lying through her teeth. "You'll do fine."

Madison's face turned gray. Jeff could sympathize with him. Being on that stage and singing in front of an audience would scare me to death, too. I would have to be tranquilized to get me near it,  Jeff thought.



-------

Chapter 47

Jeff walked quietly into the darkened bedroom. "Are you going to do without another night's sleep?" Madison asked from the darkness.

"Oh, I'll sleep enough," Jeff said, moving to the bed.

"Seems a shame for the owner of this place sleeping sitting in a corner while I'm sprawled out on this great bed."

Jeff laughed as he brought the healer from behind him. "Yeah, well, I'm sure not going to crawl into that bed with you."

"Odd that we don't think about two women sleeping in the same bed, but I totally agree. It isn't going to happen," Bill said, chuckling himself. "By the way, did you take the night lights out of here, or something? The other suite had them."

"Yeah, I put them in one of the dresser drawers. I'll put them back after tomorrow night."

"How in the heck do you see in here? Do you have night vision equipment on or something?"

"Something like that," Jeff answered. "Are your eyes closed?"

"You know they are. I gave you my word, but I think I saw a blue glow last time."

"All right. That's normal. Nighty night," Jeff laughed, holding the healer toward Madison's chest. The blue light came on and Madison slept.

Do your thing Little One. I'll be waiting. Then we'll go for our run. I have a lot of things to ask you, complements of my first wife.

{{{ Amusement. Eagerness. }}}

-------

Breakfast was at seven, but Jeff was still not back from his run. Dave and Evie were the first to express concern, but when Diana assured them that he was okay, they relaxed, knowing that if she said Jeff was fine, it was so.

Then just as everyone was finishing breakfast the security system alerted them that Jeff was starting up the driveway. Bill nudged Kathy and nodded toward the monitor over the cabinets. "Remember what that driveway did to us just walking up it last week."

Kathy laughed. "How could I forget? Makes you want to wring his neck, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Bill laughed, "if I thought I was man enough."

"That thing is steep just past that curve. Remember that? He went up the steepest part just like the rest of it."

As Jeff neared the retreat, he slowed to a walk, cooling down for the last two hundred yards.

Helen started a fresh pot of coffee, but none of the wives showed any indication that they were expecting Jeff in the kitchen soon, but just picked up the remains of the food from the breakfast bar, and began cleanup operations.

As Bill, Dave and Frank left the kitchen, Bill turned to Dave. "They're picking up the food from the bar and cleaning up, uh, I would have thought that they would have waited until Jeff got here."

"Oh, they know what he wants to eat," Dave said putting his hand on Madison's shoulder as they went through the door. "All his wives will pitch in at the last moment when he's about ready, and they'll have his food in front of him as soon as the last one greets him."

"What does he do, call them when he's done with his shower? Man that's kind of..."

"Come on, let's go sit down. There's some things that you need to know about Jeff and his wives that will keep you from ... uh..."

"Making a fool out of myself," Bill supplied, a grin on his face as they turned into the living room.

"Well, those are your words, not mine."

"Oh, chill out, Dave. I'm just a working man like you, and even I can see that this family is different. Heck I might learn something. I obviously didn't know enough about marriage to keep mine together."

"Bullshit!" Wainwright said. "Bullshit! Don't even start to blame yourself for what happened. Your daughter certainly isn't blaming you. And anyone that knows you also knows that you have been a loving husband and a loving father. Still are. But you're right. This family is different. And if Dave doesn't mind, I'll help bring you up to date about some of the things that have happened around here. At least the things that we can tell. Otherwise when those women put food on the table, or pour Jeff's coffee ten seconds before he comes through that kitchen door, over and over again, not to mention all the other stuff, well, we can tell you what we know. Save a lot of head scratching," Frank finished as he turned a recliner toward the window and sat down.

"I already noticed them do that once. I just thought it was coincidence, or good timing."

Dave and Bill also moved their chairs closer to the window, so they could all look out at the beauty of the early fall morning as they talked.

By the time they were seated, Evie pushed in a cart with coffee and sweet rolls. She kissed her husband with relish, almost making Bill blush, and causing Frank to chuckle.

"I think the lass is trying to tell you something there Dave," Wainwright teased after Evie left.

Casually crossing his legs in hopes of hiding the tent in his pants, Dave said, "She's a jewel, no doubt. We lucked up when we found each other. We like so many of the same things. It makes life easier, I guess. But it does seem like the last month or so has been even better than our first years together. I suppose that the ... uh, circumstances we find ourselves in..." he finished, lamely.

"Does whatever Jeff is doing to me have anything to do with whatever you two are dancing around?" Madison asked as he got up to pour their coffee.

'Uh, we can't..."

" ... talk about it," Madison finished for him. "What about what you said about the women, Frank?"

The men busied themselves with their coffee and sweet rolls for a moment before Wainwright answered, "Has anyone said anything about Jeff being an Alpha Male?"

Madison listened to Frank and Dave as they took turns talking about the Matthews family, and particularly Jeff. Some of the things he heard were hard for him to believe, even coming from his boss.

"Maybe we can talk him into shooting for you while you're here," Wainwright said. "After you see him draw that single action .45 so fast that if you blink, you will literally miss it, and then fire six rounds faster than you can count, you will start to believe. He's so fast that it's almost ... inhuman. The gun just seems to appear in his hand. And he never misses."

Wainwright took a bite of roll, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Jeff got a little — well, a lot — pissed when one of my lawyers made a remark about Arlene not being in our meeting, since she was a juvenile. After ... well, afterwards when we got things settled down and were getting ready to invite Jeff back in, one of my people whispered to me that Jeff had seen combat. I wasn't in the military, so I don't know what this guy picked up on, but I can just imagine that an opponent taking Jeff on under those circumstances would have a short life."

"Damn, these are good," Wainwright said, looking at what was left of the sweet roll in his hand.

"Jeff's wives cooked them early this morning," Dave said. "I heard Evie fussing at them for not getting her up early to help."

"I hope there are some left. Maybe we can take some home with us, uh, back to Saint Louis with us."

"Better not let Diana hear you slip up like that, Frank. She'll have your ass," Dave chuckled.

"Yeah. Don't I know it!"

"And," Dave continued, "unless they cooked a wheelbarrow load of them, there won't be any left."

At Bill's questioning look, Frank continued, "They've decided that we're family. This is our home. And they're not kidding. So I guess you might as well get ready to bring us to Boulder about every weekend. And you know that they will expect you and Kathy to be here, too — unless you just don't want to be. They weren't kidding about those suites, either. They had them done for the three of you."

"And trust me," Dave chimed in, "Diana made it clear as a bell that she didn't care how much it cost, just so it was the absolute best, and it was done before you guys got back."

-------

As the kitchen work was finished, Kathy looked around, hardly able to believe everything was done. Although it had happened when she helped before, it still amazed her. All of Jeff's wives, along with Evie, laughed, teased, and seemed to have a ball working together. It was hard for her to consistently find anything to do. It was as if everything were orchestrated and practiced over and over until seemingly every movement accomplished something. Surely there were a lot of people working, but they never bumped into each other, never seemed to start to do something that someone else was doing, or was going to do. And they seemed to have a ball doing it."

Laughing when they finished, she said, "What about Jeff?"

"Oh, we've got our husband's breakfast ready to go," Jennie and Melissa said in unison so perfect that it sounded like one person.

"How do you do that?" Kathy said, laughing.

"Do what?" they said, a perplexed look on their faces.

Suddenly, as if a switch had been flicked on, the wives started Jeff's breakfast. Shaking her head, smiling, Kathy said, "I'm going to sit in that beautiful window and read for a while. I've been so worried about Bill all week. Now I'm going to relax and just read. Please call me when you start lunch," she said to Diana. "I want to help. Please." Fearing that they wouldn't call her.

Seeing the look on Kathy's face, Diana said, "We'll call you."

"Thanks," Kathy said, walking out the door.

A few minutes later, Jeff came through the door as Ann poured his coffee. As soon as he sat, she slid into his lap and kissed him. "Good morning, Husband," she said as a blush formed on her pretty face. "That still gives me goosebumps to call you that. I'm so happy."

"Me too, Baby. Even if you did about break my dick when I went through that armor-plated hymen of yours," he whispered to her.

Laughing, Ann hugged him and got up for Helen to say good morning.

When Diana finished telling him good morning, Evie laughed and said, "I'm going to find my husband. I shouldn't have stayed to watch that. Now my poor man has some more homework to do," she finished as she went out the door to the accompanying catcalls.

Everyone sat back at the table as Diana asked, "Okay, what did the healer say? Tell us about her society."



-------

Chapter 48

Sunday morning, Diana and Evie sat in Evie's living room, much as they had a couple of days ago. "I didn't want to leave when Jeff came back from his run, but I just felt ... that he was going to say some personal things that he might not want to say in front of me."

Diana took a sip of her coffee while trying to say the right thing and not hurt Evie's feelings. "We don't keep any secrets from you and Dave. But Jeff tends to have a bashful streak in him for certain things, despite having seven wives. When we really want to get his goat, one of us will walk into the bathroom when one of the girls is aiming his dick for him while he's peeing. I swear he turns the brightest red you could ever imagine. Of course, he has sex with all of us either watching or taking part, and it doesn't bother him a bit, but let one of his older wives walk in when one of the girls is doing the dick aiming thing and he's toast."

"Oh, my. I haven't done that since we were on our honeymoon. It embarrassed the crap out of Dave then. I wonder how he'll react, now?"

"I'll bet he'll have a stroke when Linda does it and you walk in on them," Diana said, almost straight-faced.

Evie looked a bit flustered. "Diana, I think you're jumping the gun a little, now. I'll admit that I've thought about it. And I guess the healer's magic has changed Dave, or maybe enhanced, is a better word. Both of us are so healthy now that it's almost unbelievable. And I really do like Linda, and I think Dave does, too. But he's scared to admit it to me for fear that I'll get jealous and hand him his head. But I'm not ready to admit that I'm considering a second wife for him. I mean, I was raised..."

"Do you know what you just said?" Diana asked, grinning.

"Oh, you know what I meant. It's just a turn of phrase..."

"Uh huh. And have you fantasized about your husband making love to her? Fucking her?"

"Diana,  you're embarrassing me to death."

Diana leaned back farther, turning to face Evie, propping her back against the arm of the couch they were sitting on. "I think that you just answered me, my pretty little friend. You might as well admit that you're wife shopping for your husband. Does he suspect do you think?"

Evie leaned forward, covering her face with her hands, giggling. "I can't believe that we're having this conversation. I thought you were going to tell me what the healer told Jeff," Evie said, desperately trying to redirect the conversation.

Diana reached over and turned Evie's face toward her. "It's not going to get much better when we talk about that," she chuckled, "It might even get worse."

"Oh, shit." Evie said, her eyes wide.

"Okay, here goes. Remember, I'm paraphrasing Jeff, and condensing things. I'm going to ask him to go over the whole thing again with me just to help me remember the details. But I'll try to cover the gist of what he said. Also, Jeff said that he needs to talk to you himself about some aspects of this.

"He said that while he was with Madison he had told the healer that he had a lot of things to ask her about the alien society which created her. He did this as he was putting her on Bill's chest, so I guess she had plenty of time to think about things before their run. Anyway, Jeff has been keeping her with him almost every day. She's become a 'friend' and it seems almost natural to have her as part of his mind as he works, or does things.

"She's learning more about communicating and is having less difficulty in translating her thoughts and thought processes into something that Jeff can understand. One of the reasons that she wants to stay with Jeff is to allow her more direct association with our surroundings and the people that Jeff interacts with. She knows practically nothing about our world first hand, although she has been able to tap into some of our communications, TV, etc. But words are still very difficult for her to translate, since her makers and society used telepathy exclusively. That makes translation, as we know it, impossible. She can sense our spoken words when we talk to Jeff and each other, but without Jeff's mind as an interface, our words are very difficult for her to understand.

"Jeff says, as he has repeatedly told us, that he is gradually getting better at the process of 'translating', for lack of a better word, his own thoughts and words into something that they can mutually understand."

Reaching for her cup on the coffee table, she took a sip, then leaned against the back of the couch in a more comfortable position, yet still turned a little toward Evie. "The irony of this is my calling myself the 'boss bitch.' The implication, of course, was that I was being bitchy by bossing everyone around. Since I'm the first wife, I tend to still run things just as I did when there were only Arlene and me. Odd how the parallels go, though. Anyway, back to the healer's society.

"Jeff says that the pictures — if that's the correct term — that the healer has shown him of the beings, people, that created her, look a lot like us. They're bipedal, have two arms and hands, have two eyes, a nose, mouth, ears, even hair similar to us, and, most importantly, they have something identical, or almost identical, to our male and female sexes, long dependency periods for the young, and many other things which make their social organization and psychology similar to ours.

"Their self-aware healers are even psychologically female somehow, which is why Jeff has always referred to ours as 'she.' Although there are striking similarities, no one would ever mistake one of the healer's creators for human. Their size is, or was, very similar to ours, but although they have all the right parts, so to speak, their eyes are bigger, for instance, their ears shaped differently and smaller, they have four fingers and two thumbs on each hand. Oh, everything is different."

Taking another sip and thinking for a moment, she continued, "Their mouths are smaller than ours and shaped differently. They make little sound; may not even have vocal cords in the sense that we have. Their eyes are receptive to a little broader spectrum of light than ours are. I think he said that they were able to detect some of the near infrared, and maybe other wavelengths also, but Jeff isn't sure.

"They're obviously far more technologically advanced than us — or they were, whichever is correct. Jeff isn't sure how old the healer is. He said something about that she may have been in suspended animation of some sort until shortly before he found her — or she found him. I know that there is an awful lot that he can't tell me. He keeps dancing around subjects as he talks to me. Stops frequently as he tries to tell me things. It's obvious that he won't tell where he really got the healer, or the circumstances. It frustrates me out of my mind.

"At times, I'm pretty sure that he thinks the healer came from a society that lived many millennia ago. He also says that he isn't sure that the healer even came from our dimension. She tries to show him things about 'fold space' as he has named it, that they have both become frustrated at their near inability to converse with each other about. He says that he isn't sure whether she is talking about a means of traveling through space or dimensions, or both.

"I wish I had read more science-fiction. From Jeff's implications, I assume that the military doesn't know much about the healer's society, if anything. But, if they did, this would be obvious 'shoot me now' military secrets we're discussing. I think the healer is bringing out in you what she has brought out in me. You need to know what is happening to you, and to us, but you should not mention any of this to anyone, other than Dave, without permission from Jeff or me. And Jeff is going to talk to Dave about this, and some other things. Our lives, yours and Dave's, really do depend on your keeping all this a secret."

"Oh, my," Evie quietly said. "That's ... I don't even know what I'm trying to say..."

"Getting back to the science, at least we can rely on Jeff. If anyone can understand it, he can. Oh, he certainly isn't a theoretical physicist, but then again, he is a true Alpha Male. Which brings up the healer's society. Their society seems to have been based on the Alpha Male concept. I suspect Alpha Males in evolving protohuman societies may have been more important than evolutionary psychologists realize because the healer is clearly 'awakening' dormant atavistic traits in Jeff rather than changing him into the equivalent of the Alpha Males in its alien society.

"She, the healer, by what Jeff can understand, was or is in a very select group of healers primarily designed for the military elite and the most elite Alpha Males in their society. Jeff called these select groups Alpha Primes. The other healers were designed for a lower level of their society."

"What was the healer's society called?" Evie said, her coffee forgotten.

"I asked Jeff the same thing, but he's frustrated about not being able to put a name to their society, or their planet, or planets, as the case may be. And even 'planets' may be thinking too small about their society. It's possible it was, or is, far larger than just a few planets. The healer readily shows him the concepts she uses that would presumably be what they use instead of names for such things, but Jeff, at least at this point, is unable to unravel her thoughts. Again, he runs up against the way telepaths think and communicate as opposed to the way we do."

Diana smiled at her friend. "Remember, Evie, that Jeff has reiterated over and over that his interpretation of what the healer is showing him is only an approximation, at best. He's certain that there are many things he is missing and or misunderstanding. So as I try to give his interpretation, please keep what I've said in mind."

Evie took a sip of her coffee and frowned. "My coffee is cold. Would you like some more?"

"Yeah, sure," Diana answered, distractedly, her mind on a mental image of a world so different from her own.

A few minutes later, again seated on the couch with fresh coffee and chocolate chip cookies, Diana continued. "The several worlds that Jeff seems to think they have are drastically different, but there is a level of ... consistency between them. Apparently space travel between their planets is almost second nature with them. Much of their food comes from planets used almost exclusively for farming, which to me means they have, or had, a lot of planets, not just several. There are industrial planets, and some others that he can't figure out what she means. They are, at least to some degree, omnivores, but he thinks that isn't completely correct. There are well-defined strata to their society and there is some concept of 'overlords' as Jeff has interpreted the information."

Diana took a bite of cookie, then after a moment, "Now comes the part that I want to convey as nearly to Jeff's words as possible. The elite Alpha Males, which he calls Alpha Primes, rule over other Alpha Males of lesser ... stature, both in their military and in their society in general. These lesser Alpha Males rule over other 'people' under them. It sounds something like genetically based stratification into the equivalent of social 'classes, ' but with telepathy, or some combination of telepathy and pheromones, allowing the Alphas to somehow dominate the others.

"Although the Alpha Males who rule over the military are a separate group to the Alpha Males who rule over the society, there is some sort of interaction between them. Alpha Males who are Primes are few, have far greater status, and apparently power, in their society. According to the healer, she recognized Jeff as a prime, even though he is not a telepath. Jeff says that he tried to downplay this, but she is vehement that she is correct in this and that any healer or Alpha Male in her society would feel this immediately. If the healer can 'feel, ' or somehow immediately identify, a human Alpha Prime, there has to be some sort of biological relationship between these aliens and humans. I.e., their biology is almost certainly based on amino acids similar to ours, and they probably have the equivalent of our genes. We might even be able to eat the same foods."

"Wow," Evie said. "If he's one of these 'Primes, ' there's no wonder people do what he 'suggests.'"

Diana cleared her throat, "The healer says that Alpha Males to some extent, and Primes to a much greater degree, are able to perceive things like trends, or future events much more effectively than others. They are natural born leaders in the literal sense because they sense things, or more like make connections about things, which others aren't aware of even when they have the same apparent information. And these Primes and Alphas definitely have better grasps of concepts and are able to see things that others only vaguely understand. If you think about what I said about Frank and Dave also being Alpha Males and then factor in this ability, it's easy to see why men like your husband and Frank succeed. They see opportunities others don't. This is why Jeff bought up several fledgling companies that suddenly boomed with their new products that he helped to develop. How he was able to visualize his 'radar, ' develop the integral pieces, then assemble them into an almost perfect working model, with very little experimentation."

Evie stared at Diana. "Dave has repeatedly bought land and housing tracts that I used to argue with him about. He always makes money on them. Much of which we've used to expand the company. He's tried to tell me over and over why he can see that's it a good deal, but his logic eludes me. Do you suppose..."

"I certainly do; I'm almost positive of it. And he may be using more than just logic. I don't think it was a happy accident that Jeff picked Dave as his contractor, and that they then became close friends so fast. Like called to like, I suspect." Diana absently sipped at her coffee. "Another thing is that the Alpha Primes are far faster than the other Alpha Males, let alone their society in general."

"That's why he can draw that gun almost faster than you can see it," Evie said. "That must be the reason. But what about the women?" she asked, suddenly realizing that they had basically not even mentioned them.

"Well, now we're back to the Boss Bitch that I kidded about to start with. Each Alpha Male is in charge of a family. But remember we're substituting Earth words for a concept that's mostly a parallel to something in an alien society. Well, he — the Alpha Male — is the ultimate authority in the family, but his mate is the real leader of the household."

"The 'household?'" Evie said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you're thinking the same thing I am. Their social structure is definitely based on something like our 'families.' The Alpha Male's household, depending upon his level as an Alpha Male, among other things, has varying numbers of females attached to it. They have harems, to be blunt. Some are quite large. Each of these households is ruled, under the Alpha Male of course, by the Queen Bitch," she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep from blushing.

Evie leaned back and snickered. "So our 'Boss Bitch' is really the Queen Bitch..."

"Not yours," Diana quickly interjected. "Remember your husband is also an Alpha Male, although not a Prime. While the Queen Bitch of a Prime enjoys some degree of status over the sister-wives of Alpha Males, there is no direct line of authority over them, and Queen Bitches of Alphas have no enhanced status relative to the sister-wives of other Alphas. Queen Bitches are equals among themselves. But Queen Bitches do have authority over the other wives of their own Alphas and Primes.

"So yes, under the healer's society, I would be the Queen Bitch to my sister-wives. And much authority goes with that ... concept. But just as strongly, responsibility — real effective responsibility — goes with the Queen Bitch. She is responsible for her sister-wives. Both for what they do, and their well-being in every sense of the term. In addition, she strongly feels when they are happy, excited, depressed — well, all the emotions. And her responsibility encompasses this. If a sister-wife is depressed, for instance, it is the Queen Bitch's responsibility. A responsibility that she must undertake, not just by their society's conventions or rules, but also as a psychological and maybe even a physiological necessity.

"Her husband's pleasure is her responsibility, and she is adamant about attaining that. She, largely, supervises the bringing of other females into the household to be his wives. When her husband is pleased, she quite literally basks in his pleasure. To a large degree, she and her husband's minds, especially with emotions, are interlocked. This also, to a somewhat lesser degree, is true for her sister-wives. This is generally in response to an unconscious trigger sent out by her Alpha Male. When they fall in love, the love response triggers a part of the Alpha's brain that in turn interlocks with the Alpha Female. This can either be the result of a sexual encounter, or through mere social interaction of the Alpha Male and the new female.

"The Alpha Males produce pheromones. This is especially true of Primes. That's another reason why I am convinced there has to be a biological relationship between humans and these aliens. Jeff is clearly producing pheromones which affect people around him like he says alien Primes affected other aliens.

"Jeff is learning to control his, and without control it can be embarrassing. In an enclosed space such as our weight room, or a smaller dining room at a restaurant, an unattached female hasn't got a chance. But mates of other Alphas are little affected by this phenomenon. But I did say, little affected."

Diana could see the wheels turning in Evie's head, but chose to ignore the blush. "We know that Jeff is a projecting telepath. There is no other conceivable reason why we could know — Arlene and I especially — that Jeff was in dire trouble that morning. This is the reason that we know where he is, and now beginning with me — are starting to know generally what he is doing, and sometimes who he is with. I suspect that eventually all my sister-wives will attain this ability."

"This is some deep stuff, Diana. But..."

"And you, my friend, I strongly suspect, are soon going to be experiencing some of this yourself, maybe already are."

"Me? I never know where Dave is unless he tells me where he is going to be, or I figure it out logically. There's no connection there."

"Maybe not, or maybe not, yet. But I've watched you change as the healer enhanced you and your Alpha Male. Oh, yes, you," Diana laughed as Evie tried to deny. "What's all this with Linda, hummm?"

"Well, she's beautiful and we just seemed to hit it off."

"Sure you did. And you've been sticking to her like glue since she got to the retreat." When Evie tried to interject something, Diana put up her hand. "Wait, my very special friend. I'm sure that you can rationalize some of it away by saying that the healer made Dave feel so much better that it was logical that he wanted more sex. And you were able to give him more sex. If anything, you two look like you're more in love now than when we first met you, if that's possible. But tell me that you're not thinking about another female for Dave."

As the blush climbed Evie's face, Diana continued, "I think that you have passed the point where the Queen Bitch — what shall we call it? Syndrome? — starts to kick in. Once you have made up your mind, or are pushed into it by circumstances, and start thinking about adding to your husband's harem, you start to become the Queen Bitch. The triggers that start the process are activated, just as they were with me."

"So the healer is influencing or making us do these things? Is that what you're saying?"

"No, no. Far from it," Diana laughed. "Jeff is absolutely positive that she isn't using any kind of hypnosis or mental persuasion on us. He says that it is impossible for her to lie. The way she communicates renders the whole concept of lying completely outside her abilities. No, what has happened and is continuing to happen is that she has enhanced innate abilities that we were born with, but our species, to a large extent, has lost the use of over time.

"It isn't just Jeff — it's me, too. He, our friends and I had a standing joke about me being the 'Boss Bitch' long before Jeff used the healer on me. I suspect one of the reasons we were so attracted to each other as teenagers is that we were born as an Alpha Prime and a Queen Bitch, though with atrophied traits, just not as atrophied as in most people. Jeff had an incredible commanding presence in law enforcement and the military before he acquired the healer. Ask Laura and Fred. They knew us then. All the healer has done is bring out what was already in us. She is clearly doing that to Dave."

"He comes more than he used to," Evie quietly said. "He makes love to me more times in a day now, than we used to do it in a week. I have orgasms that are more intense than I ever thought possible. I have fainted several times. The healer has made our lives so much ... fuller. And that doesn't convey what I mean. I never dreamed that I could ever feel as good as I do. Sometimes I just burst out laughing for no other reason than I just feel wonderful. My mind is clearer than it used to be. I remember so much better than I ever could before."

Diana smiled at her friend. "Dave having more semen could just be that his body is now working the way it was originally intended, but ... there is also another possibility. His body is preparing for more mates. And your Alpha Male could very well be preparing you for your Queen Bitch role. It may well be that Dave is changing you, bringing out what was already in you, not the healer. Wait until you have an orgasm for the simple reason that your sister-wife has one. Oh, the orgasm isn't as intense as one brought on by making love, but still if you're around other people and it suddenly comes on, it's hard to sit there and have an orgasm while you are talking to someone. And if you're in bed, excited and loving each other, when she has an orgasm brought on by your Alpha Male, you will generally have one too. And it won't be a mild one. It will be almost as intense as the one she just had."

Sighing, she continued, "Before all this came about, I would never have dreamed that I would say this. I didn't understand then, and I didn't know what I was missing. But when my sister-wives are loving our husband, I am thrilled for them, and for me for having them as my sisters. Our feelings for each other are unbelievably intense. I have never thought that I was bi. Heck, I still don't. But more and more often, I will pleasure my sisters. Their enjoyment and love is my enjoyment and love. Nothing could ever replace the feelings that my mate gives me, but loving my sister-wives as he is loving one of them is almost beyond my ability to express.

"I guess, in a way, that it's silly for me to continue to say that I'm not bi, for I certainly know the taste of each of my sisters, and all of them know about me. But I want my mate inside me. To give myself totally to him. Maybe that's part of the Queen Bitch. In a way, I have to rule, and that just makes my submission to my Alpha Male even more pleasurable. Sometimes I want him to be rougher with me then he is willing to be. I'm not into pain, but having him slam that beautiful piece of equipment of his into my cervix is a turn-on beyond anything that I could ever have imagined for all those years that he was so tender while making love to me."

Taking another cookie, she grinned at Evie. "Recently, he made love to me, uh, well, he and my sister-wives made love to me on the kitchen table. It was exactly what I needed — to be loved — tenderly, gently loved, the way he used to do all the time. But still, most of the time now, I like for him to take me. Maybe the Queen Bitch has to submit to her Alpha Male for her to be satisfied — for him to show his dominance. Whatever it is, my enjoyment of sex now can't be equated to what we had in Georgia. And ... my dear, dear friend, even though sex with your husband is now wonderful, and you probably can't imagine it being any better, I strongly suspect that you're wrong."

Taking a bite of the cookie, she locked eyes with Evie, "The first time you watch Dave push his cock into Linda, I believe that you will begin to feel an intensity of desire that you can only faintly imagine now."

"Diana, I'm not even sure that I want Dave to have another wife. It's not as if I can just throw her back if I become jealous. I don't want to ruin what we have now. All of this about another wife for Dave is mostly conjecture on your part. I'm not even sure about how I feel..."

"Bullshit," Diana said, grinning a little to take the sting out. "I and my sister-wives have watched you with Linda. She's beautiful, young, sexy, smart and musical. Dave is taken with her, and her with him. The pheromones will take care of her, even if she resists — which I doubt she'll do. She's probably in love with him, and you, already. If our society hadn't instilled the one-woman-one-man concept so thoroughly into her, she would have already consciously considered him for her mate. She might be fantasizing about Dave, anyway, and feeling guilty because of you. Being around our marriage should give her food for thought along those lines," she giggled.

"Diana, she's fifteen, well, almost sixteen. Her father will never allow this. I don't want him and Dave to get into it."

"Bill Madison is a very logical person. Again, if it were not for society's influence on him, he probably would already have seen the possibilities. Right now, he's caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. The only logical thing he can do is to let her live with us and attend our school. He has already said that he can't make things work in Saint Louis. She's terrified of the school she's assigned to. If they buy another house, then maybe she would be in another school district, and the bad school problem wouldn't exist. But ... who is she going to live with? If Bill had a few months to come up with a family, or a nanny, maybe that could be worked out, too. But he doesn't. School is now. He has permission from the juvenile judge to keep her out until Tuesday when this is supposed to come to a head. But then what?

"We've invited him to enroll Linda in our school. We've also slapped him in the face with his thoughts about our multiple marriage and the terrible influence it will have on his daughter. You should have seen the stunned look on his face when he realized that what he had been thinking was an insult to us, and that we knew exactly what was going through his mind."

Diana hesitated for a moment. "I suspect that having that thrown in his face so crudely not only gave him pause then, but it will continue to bother him. Somewhere along in there, he will begin to use logic instead of feelings. Then he'll realize that all my young sister-wives are very nice people, well adjusted, intelligent, loving ... everything that he would want his daughter to be. And they're her friends now. Her closest friends.

"We're not hiding our feeling for our husband when we're around Bill. When we decide to kiss Jeff, we do so, and we don't pull any punches. When we sit in his lap and push our breasts against his chest for our mutual enjoyment, we're obviously acting like his wives. Bill is going to think about how we've acted around our husband when we were on the plane, and other times that we were around Bill. Then he is going to notice that his daughter is perhaps a little more than infatuated with some musician, and that her feelings are deeper than that. Sooner or later, he's going to think about the security and happiness it would mean for Linda to have Dave as her husband. And we're going to make sure that these things come about soon, and in the right manner.

"One of the things a Queen Bitch does is choose and bring into the household the right females for her mate. Fight it as you may, but in the end, providing for Dave's pleasure, for the expansion of his household — not to say anything about for your offspring — will win out. Dave is an Alpha Male. I can feel it. You can certainly feel it. And I'm positive now that the Queen Bitch process has been initiated in you. You are changing. You are becoming more than just a wife to Dave. You are becoming his Queen Bitch. Take pride in it, just as I do.

"I think this is part of our heritage that has been long lost, and what little is left has been beaten down by our society. I now have a name for this ... phenomenon, and logical reasons for it. Before, I just thought that it was me. And maybe even thought I was weird because of it. Now I'm proud of it. You will be, too. This is the way an Alpha Male's mate — his first mate — should act."

Evie just stared at Diana, her eyes round. Diana reached over, took the coffee cup from her and put it on the table, then hugged Evie. "I love you my friend. Sometimes, I wish that I could make love to you as I do my sister-wives. But that would violate my vows. Still, there is an intenseness to our relationship that I think both of us feel. Am I right?"

Evie buried her face in Diana's shoulder and shivered. "I'm confused, I guess," she said, her voice muffled. She pulled back and looked into Diana's eyes. "I've got a lot to think about. I know that you wouldn't intentionally steer me wrong ... And of course my feelings for you are beyond what I've ever thought of for any woman. Like Jeff said, we're family. But I do love you, too," she finished, reaching over and softly touching Diana's face for a moment. "But like I said, I've got a lot to think about."

"I understand," Diana interrupted. "But, Evie, please believe that I have thought deeply about this for some time. What Jeff has told me about the healer has just reinforced what I believe and feel has happened to me. I'm right about this, Evie. I've told you all this because, in part, I don't want you to have to go through the confusion, and self doubt that I had to. I fully believe that this is a natural process of being an Alpha Male's mate. His first mate. Let your heart lead you. See if this doesn't feel right, as well. Enjoy Linda and guide her with your love.

"If things go the way that Bill hopes they will at the meeting Tuesday, his mind will be relieved of some of the things he is so worried about. His daughter will effectively be his. His wife will be out of the picture. When he and Linda return to the retreat, he will be more focused on a logical step to ensure a safe place for Linda to live, and someone to take care of her while he is gone. We're going to invite her into Helen's class today, to just sit in and have fun. The girls have a project going that she can participate in. Before you know it, she'll be hooked. Daddy hasn't got a chance about the school. He just doesn't know it yet. Our resident genius will have him wrapped around her little finger before he knows what hit him."

-------

"I can't believe that I'm actually voluntarily doing this. I thought that I would get up this morning so sore that I would hardly be able to walk, but somehow with whatever Jeff has done to me, I feel great, and there's no soreness at all," Bill said just before he dived into the pool with Helen.

A little later as they swam along side by side, Helen said, "The scarring is almost gone from your back."

"What?" Bill said, stopping to tread water, trying to get his breath. "Nonsense. It will be with me for the rest of my life. It doesn't really bother me. Just sometimes, it's a little stiff." He flexed his shoulders while Helen grinned at him. Then as he ran a hand over his shoulder to try and feel his back, his face took on a look of puzzlement. Suddenly, he struck out for the side of the pool.

Pulling himself out of the water, he quickly walked over to the full-length mirror, turning to look over his shoulder at himself. Helen walked up to him, smiling. She wiped the water from his back with her hand, looking at him in the mirror. "You can still tell that you have had some problems, but the ... uh, that will soon be gone, as well, I think. Probably wouldn't hurt to put some baby oil on it when we're through in the water. All that new skin will probably not be very tough for a while."

"That's impossible. It just can't happen," Bill said, turning from side to side trying to get a better look at his back in the mirror.

Helen just grinned bigger. "And how old does this forty-five year old woman look?" she asked.

"Shit," Bill said, not even realizing that he had cursed in front of her. "It's one thing to see someone else looking younger than they're supposed to, but it's another thing entirely to see, and feel, my back without scar tissue from those burns," he finished, flexing his back.

"What in the hell did Jeff do to me?" he rhetorically asked, knowing that she wasn't going to tell him.

Slapping him on the shoulder, she laughed, "As they say, trust me, I know how you feel. I had a fatal heart attack, then woke up with Jeff standing over me. That will get your attention. Now if you're done flexing and admiring yourself, let's get in a few laps for that pretty new body of yours."

"Pretty?" he tried to grump, as they walked toward the pool, but didn't quite pull it off. "A man isn't pretty. Now I'm..."

Helen pushed him in, then jumped in right behind him. As he came up, she put her hand on top of his head and drilled him into the bottom of the pool. Sputtering, he cleared the surface determined to pay her back. Ten minutes later, he still hadn't laid a hand on her, but the swimming had been a lot less boring than just doing laps.

-------

Sunday morning had found Fred trudging up the hill with the sunrise. After making it to the road and back, he fought his way through a few more calisthenics than the day before, then quietly entered the house for his shower. To his amazement the women were in the kitchen cooking breakfast.

"This is Sunday," Fred said, "I thought we were taking the day off."

Carla turned to him while Jessica dug into the freezer in the adjoining walk-in pantry. "Oh, we're not going to work today, but we always get up early."

"That's good about the work," Fred sighed. "These old bones are going to do a lot of relaxing today."

"Well, after church, do you suppose those 'old bones' would like to go for a drive while they're relaxing? We could eat at Martha's, then drive around a little. You said that you haven't seen the area, yet."

"Church? Uh, I'm a little bashful about new churches. And my suits are at Jeff's. Besides, with the weight I've lost, they wouldn't exactly fit me any longer."

Jessica came in with her frozen food. As she passed him, grinning, she said, "Oh, we think that suit from Western Wear will look sharp on you."

"I didn't even look in the boxes, I was so tired last night."

"We took your suit out and hung it up. It looks fine. And we ironed one of your new shirts to go with it," Carla said. "Better hurry with your shower. Breakfast will be ready by the time you are."

"I would have thought that you two would have lazed around today, after all the work and excitement last week..."

"We're going to church, and you're going with us," Jessica said, as she tried to tickle Fred in his side. He grabbed her to tickle her back, but instead, she turned in his arms and kissed him.

After a good half minute, she pulled back, only to be replaced by her mother. "My turn," Carla said, seeming to try to outdo her daughter.

"Oh, by the way," Carla said, "we also put your new underwear and a tee shirt in your room, plus your new boots and socks. The shorts have cowboys riding bucking broncs on them," she finished, trying unsuccessfully to keep her face straight.

Giggling like sisters, the two women returned to cooking while Fred tried to hide his erection.

"You didn't think that we wouldn't go to church today after what happened to us, did you?" Carla asked as she poured hotcake batter on the grill.

Before Fred could answer, she looked over her shoulder at him, "Get your shower, Big Man. We want to show you off."

Knowing it was a lost cause, he headed for the bathroom wondering what he would look like in a western suit. "I'm not wearing a cowboy hat," he said as he went down the hall.

Mother and daughter looked at each other and grinned, having seen the Stetson in one of the boxes. The church even had a hat rack by the door.



-------

Chapter 49


Several readers have asked, so I left my timeline in this chapter.

SUNDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 15

With everyone tired from the painting and the move, they had all been in bed by ten. Jeremy didn't know about the women, but he had slept like a log. Nice to be able to sleep without earplugs. Of course, the plugs didn't really stop the sound of the hard rock in the apartment, just quietened it a bit,  he thought, as he got out of bed shortly after daylight. Man, am I going to love this quiet house.

Having showered last night and not wanting to wake Denise and Connie with water running this early in the morning, he just washed his face and hands. In the kitchen, he started coffee. They had gotten rid of all the masking tape, drop cloths and newspapers from their painting, but the kitchen floor could stand a little more cleaning. They had swept last night, but they were all tired. Finding the vacuum cleaner and deciding that the kitchen was far enough away from the bedrooms for the noise to go unnoticed, he vacuumed the floor.

After finally finding the mop and bucket on the back porch, he set about giving the kitchen floor a thorough cleaning. An hour later when Connie came walking down the hall, her hair looking like someone had given her a good scare, Jeremy was just finishing with the second coat of wax.

"Coffee's on the dining room table," he called out to her as he passed through with the mop and bucket to put them up.

When he came back in, Denise had joined them. "What time did you get up?" she asked, then added before he could respond, "Connie says that you mopped and waxed the kitchen floor."

"Yeah, it was a little on the grungy side after our work in there yesterday. I noticed some wax in the bottom of the sink cabinet, so I decided to do the floor before everyone got up."

"You didn't have to do that, Jeremy," Denise said, feeling a little guilty. "Just because we said that we were going to share, well I usually do that stuff," she wound down.

Jeremy sat with them at the table and slid his cup over for a refill. As Connie poured, Jeremy said, "My dad always helped my mom around the house, and she helped him do things. What's the difference?"

Denise and Connie looked at each other and grinned. "I guess we're not used to a man who would bother," Connie admitted. Then, "Boy, I slept too long. It's good not having that SOB in bed ... uh. Sorry," she finished, looking down at the table.

Jeremy noticed that both women were looking embarrassed. "What gives with you two? I know that you were married — both of you. And that you, Connie, were living with that ... uh..."

"Elephant," she interjected, helpfully.

Jeremy laughed, along with Denise, and said, "Yeah, the elephant. And I'm aware that both of you have probably figured out that I'm a virgin. So now that that's out in the open, you don't have to keep dancing around things every time you start to mention something in your lives."

"You're a virgin?" he heard in stereo.

Jeremy's face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. "Yeah," he started, then cleared his throat. "Well, when my girlfriend dumped me, and it became obvious right away that she was screwing my best friend, although we hadn't done anything, well ... It was kinda like getting hit in the gut. I didn't go looking for girls. Then a little later, there was a lot of studying to do. My high school didn't prepare me for the courses I was taking at college, and I had to study my ass off. Then this job came along. I just didn't meet anyone," he finally wound down.

Denise took his hand. "She was a bitch, Jeremy. And a fool. There'll be other girls. You're a really good-looking guy, not to say anything about being a nice person, and all the heavy work you've been doing has certainly ... filled you out," she said, trying not to look at the way his arms and shoulders swelled out the tee shirt he was wearing.

Both women got up, then pulled the table back a little to make room. Connie plopped down in his lap and kissed him, then relinquished her place to Denise, who also kissed him.

"We'll be your girl friends," Connie said, "until you find some pretty girl your age."

Jeremy couldn't quite understand why she would say that about finding a girl his age. Mentally shaking himself, knowing that he would never understand women, he said, "I'm thinking about going to see my parents today. I'll pick up my wi-fi stuff while I'm out there so that we can all have access to the internet. Would you two like to go? I would like to show you off to my mom and dad, and tell them where I'm living."

He couldn't quite read the expression on their faces.

A little later, Denise stood in Connie's room. "You know that his mom is going to shoot us," Denise said.

"But we haven't done anything," Connie protested, while totally agreeing with Denise.

"I know that, and you know that. But her twenty-year-old virgin son is bringing home two thirty-year-old hussies that he's now living with. This ain't going to go over very well."

"Oh, shit. Don't I know it. She'll never believe that we're not screwing him," Connie said turning to her closet. Then, "I wonder what Jeremy is going to wear?"

"You've got to be kidding. He's a man. He'll wear jeans to anything other than church or a funeral."

"But I don't want to wear jeans to meet his mother," Connie whined. "But if we dress up and he wears jeans, it will be worse," she finished, turning to her closet.

Denise started to grin at her friend until it dawned on her that she was in the same boat. "Oh, shit," she whispered.

-------

After lunch, Connie and Denise sat on Jeremy's folks' sun porch chatting about nothing in particular. Jeremy's mother made eye contact with her husband, then glanced toward the back.

Van cleared his throat, "Uh, Jeremy, I've got something I'd like to show you out back." Getting up, Van held the door open for his son, then glancing back at his wife, went on out the door.

Denise and Connie looked at each other, not fooled in the least.

"Talk to me," Adriana said when her husband and son were out of earshot.

Connie and Denise looked at each other, both realizing that they were going to get grilled about their relationship with Jeremy. Suddenly the irony of the reversal of the usual situation hit them, and both started giggling. They quickly stifled it when they saw the color rising in Mrs. Carter's face. It obviously wasn't caused by a blush of embarrassment.

Before Jeremy's mother could say anything, Denise spoke up. "No. No. We're not laughing at you. We just both realized how a young man feels when he goes to his girlfriend's house for the first time. What are your intentions toward my daughter type of thing, only reversed."

Adriana Carter wasn't amused, though. "Well, since you two think it's so funny, just what are two grown women doing with my twenty-year-old son? You've already told me that you were living together. Before you say anything, I'm quite well aware that he's an adult now, and is certainly making his own decisions. But ... he is still my son..."

Connie quickly got up and moved to sit beside Adriana on the old-fashioned glider. Putting her hand on Adriana's, Connie said, "Please, don't be mad because we laughed. It was just the irony of the situation that got us both at the same time. We have the utmost respect for your son. We've worked with him for over a year." Glancing over at Denise, Connie continued, "We both care for him, and ... we're not screwing him, if that's what is bothering you."

"Well, that wouldn't be any of my business..." Adriana started.

"No, it wouldn't," Connie agreed, somewhat less tactfully than she had intended, "but we're not going to lie to you. If he decides to make love to us, well..." Her blush wasn't from anger.

Denise pulled up a chair to sit closer. "We're not tramps, Mrs. Carter. Before you make any judgments about our intentions toward your son," she said, fighting to keep the giggle out of her voice, "we need to tell you a little about ourselves."

They spent the next fifteen minutes giving the short version of their married lives, also telling a little about their jobs. They didn't, however, mention that Denise had seen and described the size of Jeremy's dick, nor Connie's "examination" of it when she had knocked his cap off.

"All we've done is kiss him — for hours. He hasn't even touched our breasts," Denise said.

Connie picked up with, "We care an awful lot about him. We invited him to live with us because we did care for him. Plus it gets him out of that terrible neighborhood, and it will allow him to save more money toward college. Admittedly, those weren't my first thoughts. He is a good-looking guy. But he's a true gentleman, apparently without even thinking about it. Denise and I both are still stunned that a man would treat us so nicely."

Sitting quietly for a moment, Connie continued, "My ex-husband's idea of making love was to bend me over the table, grab my hair and slam into me a few times. The idiot I lived with was a thirty-second wonder. My only thought when he did it to me was trying to keep him awake so he wouldn't crush me to death after he came. Yeah, we're women, and your son is inexperienced, but who knows, maybe we'll all learn to make love. Neither Denise nor I have done that yet."

Denise leaned over and squeezed the older woman's hand. "None of us have any idea where this relationship is going — if anywhere. But whatever happens, Connie and I are on the pill. We have no intention of trying to trap him into marriage. We've even made comments about us being too old for him, and that we would be his girlfriends until he meets someone his age. He doesn't even seem to understand why we would say that. In the mean time, we're going to help him save his money for college. We all make a decent wage. Together, we have a better chance than any of us alone."

Jeremy's fourteen-year-old sister came out on the porch to join them. Jeremy's mother looked up at her and frowned. Paulette said, "Oops," did an about face that would have made a drill sergeant proud, and disappeared back into the house.

Mrs. Carter looked through the glass of the sun porch at something only she could see in the distance. "I guess that I always dreamed that my son would get his degree, meet some nice girl from around here, get a good job, and make me a bunch of grandkids."

"You're too young to be thinking about grandkids," Connie said, smiling.

"I'm forty, and that's plenty old enough. It's time for me to be holding a baby in my arms again. I just hope he doesn't try to marry both of you and get into trouble."

After the stammering was over, Adriana continued, "Oh, it's obvious that you two are madly in love with him. You can't even say his name without it showing in your voices. Sorry I came across like a clucking mother hen protecting her chick. He's the only son I have, and I want him to have a good life. If he had brought two eighteen-year-old girls in here, I would have worried about them, instead. I guess I came down on you two because you're older than he is. Heck, his father is going to be proud of him. I'll bet he's out there slapping him on the back right now," she finished, chuckling.

Standing, Mrs. Carter motioned for them to follow. "Come on. Let's go find Paulette. I was rude to her. She's as curious about you as the rest of us. She thinks Jeremy is absolutely wonderful. It will be all over the school that her brother has two girlfriends."

Connie and Denise hugged each other and followed Mrs. Carter into the house.

-------

Diana walked out of the second floor onto the balcony overlooking the pool. After busying herself watering the plants, she pulled a recliner over so that she could see, and sat down. She knew that everyone had seen her. Lighting a cigarette, she relaxed, watching the people below her — watching her people below her.

Evie, Dave and Linda were at one end of the long room near the glass wall. All three had guitars and were singing little jingles as the Hensons taught Linda to play.

Kathy and Bill, Margaret and Frank were in recliners near the big pool laughing and cutting up with Jeff and six of his wives as they cavorted in the pool nearby.

Evie looked up at Diana and winked. Diana smiled back at her.

A few minutes later, Jeff exited the pool, pulling over a chaise to sit with Margaret, Frank, Kathy and Bill. Jeff's six wives swam back toward the deep end in the direction of the board when Arlene looked back at her sister-wives and suddenly turned left toward the side of the pool, putting on a burst of speed. Abruptly diving, she angled toward the side as she neared the bottom, then putting on a phenomenal amount of speed she surfaced at the edge of the pool to stand for a second.

"That's what Helen did," Bill hissed to Kathy as Ann suddenly swam toward the edge and dived. Arlene began jogging in a big arc toward the diving board. Just before she reached the steps to the six-foot board, Ann rocketed up out of the water and immediately broke into a jog following Arlene's arc. A few seconds later as Arlene split the water with hardly a ripple, Ann took the steps to the diving board behind her.

Soon all six were part of the procession of beauty, but their jog through the arc around part of the room was so smooth that their breasts hardly bounced in their modest bikinis. When Arlene dived for the fourth time, she turned toward the opposite side of the pool. When Ann dived, she turned in the original direction, each wife alternating, yet coming back together at the board in the same order and the same spacing.

By then, everyone was standing in order to see better, but Diana on the balcony had the best seat. Bill looked over at Jeff. "They're good," he said, inanely, then realizing how inadequate the statement was, he tried again. "They're superb. I've never seen anything like it. They're perfectly spaced to the second; they even hit the first step on the board with the same foot. How do they shoot out of the water like that?"

"It's like synchronized swimming," Wainwright said, "Only ten times better."

"They must have practiced forever," Bill said.

Jeff chuckled, not even bothering to correct Bill as Jeff watched his wives finish up, all turning toward the side of the pool near their audience. They popped out of the water to stand beside each other until the last wife was in line with them, then gave a little bow so perfectly timed that it seemed like one person bowing.

Their audience clapped until their hands were red.

After toweling off, the women came by to quickly kiss Jeff, then streamed out of the pool room into the hallway. When Jeff looked back toward the balcony, Diana mouthed a kiss toward him and went through the doorway.

"I thought it was just Helen," Bill was almost babbling. "She's so good in the water, and the rest of them were just playing around. They can all come out of the water like that. The only time I ever tried that I skinned a big place on my belly where I hit the rim of the pool before I fell back. They come out of the water like they're shot out of it. And their dives hardly made any sound, let alone splash any."

Wainwright grinned at Jeff, then turned back to Bill. "About the practice: chances are, you just saw it."

"What..." Bill said.

"If I know them. That was the practice. They've never done it before. Right Jeff?"

Jeff just grinned. "Probably not."

Evie, Dave and Linda had walked over. "They cook and clean the kitchen like that," Evie said. "There isn't one second of wasted motion, and they never bump into each other. The first time I helped them, I was lost. But now, in a very small way, I'm beginning to be able to do it. It's like there is one person with seven pairs of arms, or something. And you should see them cleaning that big living room with one driving the vacuum and the others moving furniture for her. It's positively scary, but they're just laughing and cutting up the whole time, seeming to not even pay any attention to where the vacuum is roaring around."

Jeff got up and whispered in Evie's ear. "Would you please see that our guests..."

"Go," she said to him, grinning.

-------

A little over seventeen hundred miles away in New York, Hope Stewart, Jennie's younger sister, lay across a king-sized bed in a luxury suite. The sheets had been changed from the semen spotted ones, and deodorizer had been sprayed to cover the smell of sex in the room. He had been a fat pig, and had been rough with her. He told her she was getting too old, slapping her because he couldn't get it up for the third time in eight hours. She had worn a little pink frilly outfit, her hair in a ponytail above each ear to make her look still younger, but fifteen was getting too old for him.

Her father came in, furious when he realized that her customer for the night had marked her. Yanking her by the arm, he critically surveyed her reddened cheeks from the slaps in the brighter light of the window.

"Cover it with makeup," he growled.

"But Daddy, they want me to look young. If I use makeup..."

"Just enough to cover where he slapped you. I'll get that son-of-a-bitch for this. If Marcus comes in this afternoon and sees that, he'll change his mind. That'll cost me twenty grand."

Standing back and looking at her critically, he continued, "I think we can cover it. I'll send someone up to help you with the makeup. Did you douche with the alum solution?"

"Yes," Hope answered, looking at the floor in front of her.

"All right. You had better be tight for him. And squeeze down on his cock like you're a virgin, and act like it hurts when he puts his dick in. You look okay, except for the handprint on your face. Marcus will be here at two." He spun her around, roughly, looking critically at her. "You make damn sure to take good care of him. Tell him that you're fucking thirteen, hear me? And you give him a good time. Make him think he's making you come a bunch." Contemplating for a moment, he continued, "We should be home in time for you to go to school in the morning. Forty grand ain't bad for a weekend. But you better act young for him, or he'll welch on me for sure. I need this forty thou for something important."

Glancing at his watch, he said, "I think we've got time for a blowjob. Yeah, get down on your knees and suck me off."

"Daddy, if I do that, he'll notice my lips are all swollen and know what's been going on."

"Shit. Yeah, you're right. All right. I'll wait until Marcus leaves. We should have time before we have to catch the plane."

As he started to walk out of the room, he turned back toward his daughter. "You make damn sure Marcus gets his money's worth. Else I'll drop your little slut ass off in the worst part of town, buck naked. Hear me."

"I will, Daddy," she choked out as he left, slamming the door.

-------

Ann lay sprawled on her back, her face slack. Helen, who had rolled onto her stomach, lay at an angle at Ann's feet. Glancing over, the teacher smiled as another gob of Jeff's semen slid from between the lips of Ann's pussy. Helen reached over and pushed the washcloth a little farther under Ann. So far, they had managed to save the spread.

Diana was last as Jeff moved from her breasts to her mouth, tenderly kissing her as Helen reached up to guide his cock into her sister-wife. Diana hissed out a sigh as his cock slid slowly inside her warm sheath, then whimpered and tried to thrust her hips up as he eventually nudged her womb.

"I love you my sweet Queen Bitch," he whispered to her as he slowly withdrew his cock halfway, then pushed back to her cervix.

Knowing, and feeling how sincere he was, tears of joy sprang to her eyes as she told him how much she loved him. "Oh, Jeff ... she started, but had to wait until the orgasm was over before she could continue ... thank you for not divorcing me for fucking Jack and Arnie..."

"Hush," he admonished. "We all know it wasn't your fault. The healer enhanced your body, and that included your sexual response. We've covered this over and over," he said, holding himself still inside his mate.

"I know, Baby, but logic and emotions are different. I hate it that I did that. I should have known better."

Jeff stopped her train of thought my locking his mouth to hers, and as the girls did with him, tried to become one with her, his tongue slipping past her parted lips. By ones and twos, his other wives gathered around the couple, who were in the center of the bed. Soon they were all touching either Jeff or Diana, with the exception of Ann, who slept on.

Each time Diana peaked, her sister-wives sighed and shuddered with her. As always when Jeff chose to gently make love to his first wife, she struggled to increase the pace, but when she begged, he just smiled at her, then curved his body enough to nurse first one breast, then the other.

Each orgasm built on the last one before it, climbing higher on the ladder of pleasure. Her protest about him being too slow and gentle drifted toward incoherent mumbles as she tried to thrust her hips upward against his iron-hard body that refused to yield to her much-lesser strength.

Finally, after many minutes, he raised up a little, which allowed her freedom to rotate her hips, then thrust upward. She wrapped her legs around him as he picked up the pace, gradually increasing the amount of pressure against her womb when he bottomed out.

As she neared her strongest orgasm yet, she mumbled, "Finish me. Finish your Queen Bitch."

Jeff concentrated, not only to finish her, but also to project his love to her. His rhythm picked up, his cock pounding into her pussy and womb as she shuddered, and screamed out her pleasure. His cock soon pulsed as his sperm-laden semen poured into her, its warmth and the pulsing of his cock sending her to heights of ecstasy that she could not have dreamed of a year ago. As her body arched up, then locked, her warbling scream produced a grin from Jeff as his orgasm tapered off, her pussy clamping down on his cock almost painfully.

Ann, just coming round, whined and arched her back, shuddering as Diana did. Then collapsed back into another faint, joining her sister-wife as Diana's legs slid from around Jeff's hips, and her body totally relaxed.

When Helen could function again, she pushed a washcloth under Diana's pussy, then took time to gently caress her husband's large balls, before rolling to her back and sighing.

Jeff supported most of his weight on his forearms, letting his cock soak in her pussy, he whispered in Diana's ear how much he loved her and how proud of her he and her sister-wives were. He continued to try to project his thoughts to her even after he had stopped whispering in her ear. In her sleep, she smiled even as her pussy gave one last squeeze to Jeff's cock.

On the table a few feet away from Jeff's head, the healer was content, proud of her new family. Her society would never have allowed her to bask in the pleasure of their lovemaking. But now that she had managed to restart some of their atrophied mental functions, particularly Jeff's, she could do so, and should be more able to understand this family that she had come to love. Still, she must go slowly, for the human mind was so different. Yet she knew that she had made progress. Her master's mate's last orgasm had stunned her with its intensity. With the equivalent of a smile, she withdrew her mental tendrils and set out to review what she knew about her new and very intriguing people. She was changing, her own newfound abilities increasing as she expanded herself. She hoped that soon she would be able to communicate with her ship.

-------

Everyone else was in the living room when Jeff, surrounded by his wives, came in. Despite the light bras, nipples were prominent through the tight tops Jeff had insisted that they wear. "We're not going to put on two faces for Bill, but we're not going to flaunt things, either. We love each other, and be darned if I'm going to sneak off in our own home to make love."

The women, all more open about making love than Jeff was, just grinned at this comment. If Jeff hadn't insisted, they would have left off even the light bras. Diana knew that time was soon coming. Madison will just have to get used to it. It shouldn't be that hard,  Diana thought, almost giggling aloud.

As soon as they turned into the living room, Bill's eyes dropped to Diana's nipples for a second, before he guiltily looked toward Jeff, who grinned at him.

The four young wives peeled off from the group, grabbed Linda's hand, and were out the door with her. Bill tried not to frown, wondering if they were going to tell Linda about their recent lovemaking that was so obvious on their faces. Of course everyone knew what was going to happen when Jeff left the pool trailing his wives. Bill figured that probably even his young daughter was aware.

Hell, she's becoming a young woman. I need to get my head around this, but she's been my little girl so long that it's going to be hard to do. She should be hanging out with the girls, but she's stayed around Kathy or the Henson's most of the time since she's been here. Something is going on, but I don't know what the fuck it is.

Diana locked eyes with him for a second and winked, further confusing him. Is she winking at me because it's obvious that the Matthews' have all been fucking for the last two hours, or is it because the girls just dragged Linda out of the room?

A couple of minutes later, Helen got up and left. Shortly, Jeff told the security system to activate one of the cameras. Bill tensed as he saw his daughter sitting behind Helen on an ATV as they backed out of the garage and headed for the slopes behind the range.

Margaret came over to Madison, leaned down and hugged him. "She'll be fine, Bill. Helen will take good care of her."

One the big screen, the anxious father watched as Helen gunned by several of the other four-wheelers and went out of sight up the ski slope, the tires kicking up a rooster tail of mud.

Laura grinned at Madison. "We told you that she was a wonderful teacher. We didn't say she was sedate. She has to stay ahead of four very bright and very healthy teenagers. She's up to the challenge."

That didn't help Bills anxiety one bit.

-------

An hour later, knowing that she was probably in some deep doo, a tired and mud-covered Linda walked into the living room to take her medicine.

"I didn't ask you permission, Daddy. I went riding on the ATV's."

"Yeah, I know," Madison replied, relieved that his daughter had made it back in one piece. "We saw you on the security system."

Not having thought about that, his daughter squeaked out. "They let me drive some. I had a wonderful time."

Bill cut his eyes toward Jeff, who just grinned back at him, knowing from personal experience how terrifying it could be to watch the women on those things.

"As long as you had a good time," Bill forced himself to say, not wanting to embarrass his daughter in front of people she hardly knew.

"Thank you, Daddy," Linda quickly said, kissing her father on the lips for a second. "You're the greatest dad in the world." Pulling back from him, "I'm gonna change now before I get something on the carpet." As she left, the other girls went with her. Although Evie wanted desperately to go with them, she snuggled to her husband and tried to get her mind off the sparkling-eyed teenager who had already stolen her heart.



-------

Chapter 50

Several people have e-mailed and said that they need a character refresher since the story has gone on for more than a year with a chapter per week. This is an abbreviated character list of people who are currently in the story.

The Matthews Family

Jeff Matthews — 6' 3", 33, Alpha Prime, nice face, a little on the rugged side, brown hair, muscular, but not body-builder pumped, a distance runner, but not skinny like some. Jeff is an electrical engineer. After selling his patent to an advanced type of radar, he moved his family to a retreat high in the Colorado mountains. Jeff, now a major, is still begrudgingly attached to a Black Ops outfit at a secret military base that is experimenting with portals to another dimension. He discovered the healer — or she discovered him — in an ancient, buried warehouse that is part of the mountain hangar where Jeff was shot by the alien sniper.

Diana Matthews — First wife and Queen Bitch — 29, but now looks 19, 5' 5", brunette with auburn highlights, hair to her waist like her daughter, beautiful slim figure, high, long breasts that seems to defy gravity, regal, almost haughty appearance, stunningly beautiful.

Arlene Matthews — Diana and Jeff's daughter — 16, a little shorter than her mother, hair to her waist almost identical to her mother's, although a little more wavy. Arlene seems a younger, slightly smaller version of Diana. Like her mother, she is exotically beautiful. She is Jeff's daughter-wife and another Queen Bitch, although this hasn't been brought out in the story, yet. She and Ann are both near geniuses.

Laura Billings — 30, although with the healer, she looks younger now, 5' 5", short, red hair, freckles across her nose, larger round breasts. Diana's best friend from childhood and now almost a handmaiden to Diana. Laura's older boyfriend impregnated her when she was thirteen, then left town when he found out, leaving Laura to raise Ann alone after Laura's parents we killed when she was eighteen. She was an IT manager in Georgia until her company sold and downsized. She is now Jeff's assistant and wife.

Ann Billings — Laura's daughter, 16, 5' 2", thick red hair below shoulder-length, some auburn highlights, a slightly pixie appearance. She, Jennie and Melissa were the girls that came for Arlene's birthday and stayed to be Jeff's wives. Ann was the virgin with the "armor-plated hymen." She talked Diana into letting Jeff be Ann's first. She had been in love with him since she was thirteen.

Melissa Collins — 17, 5' 3", dark brunette hair, shoulder-length, breasts larger than Jennie, but not as large and shaped differently than Arlene's. One of the three girls that came to Arlene's party and stayed to be Jeff's wives. Melissa had seduced her father after several of the kids at her school had HIV. Not wanting to have sex with any of her classmates for fear she would contract AIDS, she chose Dad, instead.

Jennie Stewart — 17, dirty blond, about the same height as Melissa, best friends with Melissa in Georgia, slightly smaller frame than Melissa, slightly smaller breasts. One of the three girls that came to Arlene's party and stayed to be Jeff's wives. Jennie claimed that she had also seduced her father because of the HIV in the school. Shortly, she will confess that she lied about this.

Helen Boswell — 45, although she too looks much younger now, 5' 4", shoulder-length brunette hair, slender, breasts well proportioned to her frame, genius, their teacher, retired principal, taught gifted and girl's swimming, had a heart attack and was saved by the healer.

Other Characters

Dave Henson — 6', dark brown hair, almost lanky frame, but well muscled, the contractor who built the retreat. Although he and his wife, Evie, have taken a personal interest in the retreat and the Matthews family, he owns and operates a large construction company. After becoming Jeff's project manager, he turned the day-to-day operating of the company over to Korey. Jeff has declared Dave and Evie family. Dave is able to play almost any musical instrument with ease.

Evie Henson — Dave's wife. Small blond, small perky breasts, very pretty, a hundred pounds with rocks in her pockets, but fiery and not bashful about working with the construction workers. Now acting as Dave's assistant, but like Dave, she still interacts with their construction company. She, like Dave, will get her hands dirty in a heartbeat. Almost as good as Dave is with music. Likes to play classical music, much to Dave's consternation. They got together playing music at her church, then later at her parent's home.

Fred Wilson — Big man, over six feet, a little overweight, mid fifties, retired detective and Jeff's best friend and mentor in Georgia. He came to live with the Matthews when Fred's wife, Brenda, suddenly died of a heart attack. Jeff realized that Fred was probably going to end his own life and talked him into going back to Colorado with them. He is now at the farm helping Carla and Jessica.

Frank Wainwright — 5' 10", late forties, graying hair, medium build, but has kept in shape, the owner/president of Wainwright, Inc., a company handed down to him by his father, and expanded enormously by him. Very rich, with a dynamic personality, believes in having the best people working for him and pays them accordingly. Owns, or owns controlling interest in, several satellite companies spread over the continental U.S. Will only fly when Bill is in the cockpit. His mother and father were killed because of mechanical failure just after takeoff, then Bill pulled him out of a crash of a rented plane just before the plane caught fire. While Bill was in the hospital after the crash, and later during skin grafts and cosmetic surgery from time to time, Wainwright commuted everywhere via limo. He hates to drive.

Margaret Stanford — 40, but the age is starting to vanish, 5' 6", shoulder-length brunette hair, slender build with medium breasts beginning to sag before the healer took care of that. Vice President below Tingle. Frank's acknowledged lover, but would never marry him for fear of messing up what they have together. Although she is technically below Tingle on the totem pole, everyone knows that she speaks with Wainwright's voice, although she doesn't push it. Both she and Wainwright are workaholics, and very intelligent. They spent two weeks with the Matthews and now live at the retreat — at least on weekends.

Ray Tingle — Vice president who is in charge when Wainwright and Margaret are out of town.

Captain Bill Madison — 6', 44 years old, has kept in shape by swimming and working out. He commands Wainwright's aircraft, and saved Frank's life after a plane crash.

Jill Madison — 5' 4", 38, blond, beautiful, soon to be ex-wife of Bill Madison. For the last year she has distanced herself from her husband and daughter, her personality changing, and has taken up with a scumbag doctor.

Linda Madison — 5' 3", 15, short, dark blond hair, beautiful like Jill, her mother. She is Bill's daughter and if the divorce turns out the way Bill hopes, she will be attending the Matthew's school. She and her father, along with Kathy, if Kathy wishes, will be living at the retreat with the Matthews.

Kathy Arnold — 5' 5", 26, dark brunette, shoulder-length hair, nice figure — flight attendant turned pilot, madly in love with Bill Madison

Carla Chalmers — 5' 7", 39, short, curly brunette hair, medium breasts, well muscled, but still pretty, owner of the farm that was being foreclosed on.

Jessica Chalmers — 5' 6", 19, dark auburn hair, shoulder length, pretty, Carla's daughter. One year in college, but wants to go back and major in animal husbandry.

Denise, Connie and Jeremy — Construction workers from Johnson Erection that put in the silos at Carla's farm. Connie and Denise were the two women that Johnson hired and talked Lee, one of his foremen, into asking the women how they were going to react to the rough talk of the men on the crew. Denise talked Connie into moving in with her a week ago when Connie finally dumped the "elephant." The two women have been best friends ever since they came to work for the company two years before. Now they have invited Jeremy to live with them, planning to help him save his money for college so he can be an engineer. The two "bad girls" that really aren't, have fallen in love with Jeremy, but since they are both almost ten years older, don't quite know what to do about it. Jeremy, still a virgin, refuses to push forward with the relationship, waiting for the now-hesitant women to make the first move.

Edmond (Ed) and Jody Thompson — Older couple that own the farm next to Carla. Jeff is shortly going to buy part of the farm, leaving the Thompsons with four hundred acres, their equipment and buildings. The old couple have arthritis and had to quit farming, but Jeff has plans for returning their health just as soon as he can figure out how to use the healer on them without their knowing.

Ray and Allison Hodkin — Ranch owners that had Carla and Jessica's horses.

Cole Hagewood Sr. and Jr. — Junior tried to abduct Arlene. Senior came to his son's rescue, but met with Jeff the hard way. He has vowed to kill Jeff and his family. Since he has killed before and Sergeant Goodwin says it is a viable threat, Jeff has tried to prepare his family for the worst.

Ted Wadsworth — St. Louis lawyer that helped Jeff with his contract with Wainwright, Inc., when Jeff's three patent/copyright lawyers tried to fleece him.

Chuck Fontaine — Denver attorney who is a friend of Wadsworth. Fontaine was the lawyer that charged a dollar for his assistance with the farm foreclosure. 

Steve Sperman & Marcie — Retired couple that live about a mile down the mountain, and are the Matthews closest neighbors. They are the ones that recommended the snowplow and spreader, then gave Arlene and Jeff the home-baked doughnuts.

-------

During supper Linda had remained quiet, her mood obviously having changed to somber. She stopped her father in the hallway just as they left the kitchen. "I want to stay here, Daddy. I don't want to go back to Saint Louis."

Putting his hands on his daughter's shoulders, then changing his mind, he hugged her tight to him. After a time he pushed back, holding her shoulders again, looking her in the eyes. "Baby, we have a lot of things going on in our lives right now. We've got this thing coming up Tuesday with your mother, then we've got to see about a new house for us..."

"I don't want a new house. I want to stay here, " she adamantly said, looking up into Bill's face. "Nobody ever asks me what I want to do. I'm not a little kid, anymore. My mom has left me — us. I hate that school that I'm in, and I don't want you to go see that principal and get in trouble. It won't do any good, anyway. Lots of other parents have complained. I think the principal's as afraid of the gangs as anyone else." Sighing, she continued, "My two best friends moved away. My other friends around the house are okay, but they've got boys in their lives now. And I don't have anybody. These people are so nice to me. Evie and Dave, well..." she tried to say as a blush changed her face.

"You're getting awfully close to them in a big hurry," Bill responded. "I'm afraid that you're going to get a crush on Dave and..."

"Crush! So I'm just a little girl who gets crushes on people. I'm too young for real feelings. Is that it?" she hissed. "What about all those times that you said I was much more adult than just a fifteen-year-old?"

"Look, Baby. This isn't the place to discuss this," Madison said, looking around at the strangely deserted hallway.

"It's a great place to discuss it," Linda said, her voice defiant. "I'm not going back to that school. Those guys will rape me before the week is out, no matter what you say to that principal. Why can't I go to Helen's school?"

"Her name is Doctor Boswell," Bill made the mistake of saying.

"Oh, so I'm just a kid who has to call someone by their last name despite the fact that she's told me to call her Helen like everyone else does? She's a super person, and she can really drive that four-wheeler. But I'm just a little girl..."

Madison was in over his head, and he knew it. These mood swings are driving me crazy. I wish this shit with her mother were over,  he thought "Look, Baby. We have to be there Tuesday. The lawyers know the judge and they say he'll sign the divorce papers as soon as we get them to him. But the lawyers want you there in case the judge needs to talk to you again..."

"All right, I'll go back," she said looking at him with overflowing eyes, "but after the meeting and the papers are signed, I'm coming back here — then. Promise me that you'll bring me back Tuesday. Promise me!"

Without realizing that anyone was near, Bill almost jumped as Diana put her arms around both of them. "We'll take care of your daughter as if she were our own," she said. "Just like we discussed with you last night, it's the only logical answer, and now Linda has come up with the same thing. She's more than welcome. We want her to be here."

Linda grabbed Madison around the waist, hugging herself tightly to him. "Please, Daddy, " she sobbed.

"Baby, we can't come back Tuesday, no matter what happens in that meeting. It will be Friday night before Mr. Wainwright and Margaret come back..."

"What did Tingle tell you that my instructions were to him?" Frank said, walking up.

Bill was beginning to think that the whole world knew about his and Linda's conversation.

"Well..." Bill started.

" ... Until this is over, that your personal life takes precedence — period. Now why in the hell would you think that you would have any problem coming back Tuesday? And while we're at it, for the hundredth time, my name to you is Frank."

"Look ... you're my boss. I just show respect by..."

"Respect be damned. You dragged my sorry butt out of that plane, then shielded me from the fire with your own body. If you're not in the cockpit of that plane, I go by limo, and you know it. Now get your head out of your butt and listen to your daughter. I'm beginning to think that she has a whole lot more sense than you do."

"Jeff, Diana, Arlene ... everybody said that they want me to live here," Linda broke in.

Bill was starting to strongly suspect that this had been a setup.

Hitting Bill lightly on the shoulder, Wainwright continued on toward the living room, Diana turning back toward the kitchen.

"Thanks Daddy. You'll never regret it. I'll make you proud," she said, again looking up into his eyes, a look of love on her face. "I've had a long talk with the girls. They want me to be here. We're having such a good time together. Everybody wants me to be here. And Dave and Evie ... are really special. You told me that everything would work out. I love this place. My mom isn't there any more. She acts like somebody different. Mr. Wainwright and Margaret have always treated me special. They say that this is their home now. I want it to be our home, too."

Sighing, Bill hugged her to him. "If you want it that much, Baby. Maybe we do need to start a new life. I'll talk to the Matthews again, and if everything is still all right with them, I'll make whatever financial arrangements they want for us to live here and for you to attend their school. I'll tell the lawyers that we have moved, and give them this address, plus the name of your new school," he said, smiling at her. "That should solve the problem about someone to stay with you, and school, too. If this is what you truly want, we'll do it. The Matthews have already talked to me and invited you to their school. And they've said that the suite was mine. They made all those renovation for us. But ... I'm still worried about your, uh ... infatuation for Mr. Henson, though."

"So, are you afraid that he'll rape me?" she asked, a strange quality to her voice.

"Well ... no. But you're just fifteen."

"I'll be sixteen Friday. What are you getting me for my birthday?"

"Young lady, that isn't the topic of this conversation. We were talking about Mr. Henson."

"If you mean, Dave, had you rather I give my virginity to Jimmy in the back seat of his car?"

Madison tensed up like someone had pushed a knife into him. "Where ... what ... You will not..."

Linda put her hand behind Bill's head and pulled him to her. Kissing him hard on the mouth for an instant, she released him and sprinted for the kitchen, giggling.

As Bill stood there wondering what had just happened, Jeff took him by the arm. "You and I are going for a drive. We need to talk."

"But my daughter just all but told me that she's going to..."

"Yeah, I heard," Jeff said steering him toward the back.

Madison briefly wondered how Jeff could have heard them, but was too preoccupied with what had just happened to give it much thought.

Diana stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway with the SUV's keys in her hand.

Looks like they planned this,  Madison thought as he saw Diana with the keys — the pilot getting it completely wrong. Handing the keys to her husband, she joined the two men on the way to the car.

Diana ushered Bill into the front seat, then got in the second seat herself. They were mostly quiet, each thinking their own thoughts until they got to the bottom of the drive. As Jeff turned right, he said, "I just thought it would be better if we were alone for a while. I have a few things that I can tell you that might help you understand what's going on."

A few minutes of winding up the mountain, and Jeff turned into the drive of the deserted ski lodge. In the fading light, he told what little he knew of what had happened to the partially destroyed building. Making a circle in the lot, he stopped with the Escalade facing back toward the road.

They sat for a moment watching the last play of light in the trees, then, "Before my husband starts," Diana said from behind them as she took off her belt and leaned forward, putting her hand on the back of Bill's seat, "I need to tell you a few things, that knowing him, he will gloss over."

For a full twenty minutes, Diana talked in the quietness of the approaching darkness, the muted idling of the big engine a backdrop to the strangest tale Bill had ever heard. A tale, however, that seemed to tie a lot of things together that he had wondered about, and added to the things that Dave and Frank had told him.

"He is a Prime," Diana continued, "and he surrounds himself with Alphas. I think that your daughter is being called by her Alpha; although, Dave probably isn't even aware of doing it. She has no more chance to resist than I did all those years ago when Jeff talked me into getting in the back seat with him. Dave's wife is, or will be, a Queen Bitch. She is feathering her nest, or her husband's nest. Linda could not have found a better place, or a better man. She will be loved and cherished by both of them.

"Right now, Dave is obviously stressed because of his developing feelings for Linda — not to say anything about worrying about Evie. And you. I have already talked to Evie about this, and she is starting to realize what her role is..."

Bill interrupted. "Look. All this is farfetched ... And I'm damn sure not interested in my daughter becoming a second wife to anyone. Oh, I know that Dave is a nice guy, but..."

"How do you feel, Bill?" Jeff interjected.

"What ... uh, like I said, wonderful."

"In a way, your feelings, your good health, our good health, the youthfulness of the women — heck, I even look younger — everything is in some degree tied together. Unfortunately, some of it we can't tell you."

Bill raised a hand slightly. "Wait, please. Let me think ... You're still ... Yeah. When I saluted you at the plane. You didn't act like someone that had been out of the military a while. The return salute was instant and reflex — the automatic return of the salute to an inferior. Then you caught yourself. My buddy's simple check with friends brought a total overreaction from the government. You're CIA, aren't you? No. No. That isn't right. Doesn't make sense. Black Ops. You have something to do with some type of Black Ops outfit, don't you? Your invention probably figures in there somewhere. Whatever you did to me, whatever you did to make your wives look so young, it has something to do with Black Ops, doesn't it?"

Jeff's face set. "This is the end of that line of thought. End it right now. We're trying to help — trying to explain what's going on with your daughter and Dave. Hell, I wouldn't have believed it a couple months ago, but the ... uh. Things have convinced me that maybe there are Alpha Males..."

"Our modern society," Diana picked up, "in my opinion, has repressed the Alpha Male ... syndrome — whatever it is called, that our species once had. Maybe, thousands of years ago, it was recognized that certain males were Alphas. I don't know. But the ... uh." Then exasperated, "Shit, I can't say what I need to say." Taking a breath she reworded, "Certain things in our species were suppressed. They atrophied, became dysfunctional to most, to a very large degree. Even in the few that retained part of the ... functions, they were still much reduced. Reduced until they weren't really noticeable, unless you knew what you were looking for.

"Some of the abilities still showed in men that were 'natural born leaders, ' but even that was repressed by our society. Instead of gathering a harem, Alphas were forced by our laws to have one wife. It isn't the natural scheme of things for an Alpha. What's happened to my husband, and to the others, plus our finally finding out what was going on, has allowed them to be more the way nature intended. Plus their wives are affected by this, both by having their bodies and brains operating more efficiently, and by our ... uh, understanding of what is going on."

Bill tried to say something, but Diana motioned for him to wait. "As this process is completed in you — and I do think you're one of the Alphas — and you get past this divorce, I would be willing to bet that your Alpha tendencies will become more obvious. I think that right now you have some sort of ... block that will fall as soon as you're free. Kathy won't stand a chance then. So be expecting it. When you realize that she is now available to you, things will change. Prepare yourself for it. Please don't reject her while your Alpha part is calling her. That would be cruel.

"You also need to understand, and come to terms with it, that your daughter is, indeed, being called by her Alpha. Evie also has a lot to do with this. She has been fighting it for some time, but the changes in Dave are obvious to her, and despite her original unwillingness to even think about a multiple marriage, she is now quickly coming around. Her Alpha will see to that, whether he realizes it or not. And understand, Bill, your daughter is receiving a great honor. She is intelligent, and obviously a fine person. She deserves an Alpha. To tie her to a lesser man would be a shame. Linda, in my opinion, will soon be married. I'm almost certain of this."

Squeezing Bill's shoulder, Diana continued, "I know that she's your little girl — always will be. But when the h... ," Crap, I almost said healer,  she admonished herself, then quickly rewording, she went on. "Uh, when the process is used on her, she will mature. Oh it might not show to a large degree, but her body and brain will finish maturing and be far stronger in every way than she is now — the way she was intended to be. When you start to attract your next wife, after Kathy," she said with a grin, "both mentally and with pheromones, you will be more able to understand than we were when Jeff began to do it.

"We first thought it was his semen, and that is a clincher, but it isn't necessary. The pheromones and your mental abilities will do it without the other."

Stunned, to say the least, Bill turned back to the front. "You two are serious about this? Oh, hell, I know you are. But this..."

"No use getting mad at Dave," Diana said. "He can't help it, and as I said, probably isn't even aware that he has set out to get a second wife. And don't even think about taking Linda away from him. We tried that with Jennie and Melissa. If you think she's messed up over her mother now, you have no idea what a reaction telling her she can't be around Dave will cause. What you got in the hallway is nothing in comparison."

"Diana, I have a lot of respect for you people, but I just can't believe..."

"Be hardheaded, Bill, and you will destroy your daughter if you continue in that vein. Go easy with this. Watch, and keep in mind what we've been telling you. Your daughter has already gotten a shock that many teenagers would ... Well, rebellion comes to mind, and other things much worse. You know what I'm talking about. Be very careful with her. She isn't through this with her mother, yet. She, like anyone her age, is blaming herself. She doesn't need — to state the obvious — anything else to stress her right now.

"On the other hand, falling in love with Dave is probably the absolute best thing that could happen to her. Love tends to take precedence," she said, smiling at her husband and putting her hand on his arm. "She is suddenly finding an emotion that even overrides her sorrow and insecurity about her mother."

Bill sighed, turned and looked out the window for a moment, before turning back to say, "All this seems like ... hell, I don't know. All that you people have done for us, the way Mr. Wainwright treats you like you're his ... But I can't just turn my head and let some guy — no matter how nice he is — that's twice my daughter's age and more, plus is already married, just come in and take my daughter. It just isn't going to happen."

Jeff glanced back at his wife, who shrugged. "We can't blame you. From a parent's viewpoint, we can certainly understand. I can't tell you a whole lot more. I'm due back in your suite tonight for the third ... session. I guess that the only concrete thing that Diana and I have going for us to convince you is your health — how you feel..."

"The burn scars are gone from my back and legs," Bill quietly interrupted. "Helen pointed that out to me in the pool. You have no idea how many times I've looked at myself in that big tri-mirror in my suite, since then. You would think I was some teenager flexing his muscles or something. It's impossible. I've had some cosmetic surgery done on the scar tissue, mostly to smooth it and give me some relief from areas that were too tight for proper flexibility of my back. But overnight, the scars are just gone. Then you two tell me all this about Alpha Males and Alpha Primes. Where did you hear all this? Why do you believe it?"

Jeff glanced at Diana again. Feeling helpless, he said, "That's part of what we can't tell you. We're certain that latent traits lost in human pre-history are being restored but beyond that..." After a moment, he continued, "I guess at this point that we can only hope that you will use restraint with your daughter, Dave and Evie." Looking Bill hard in the eye, Jeff's voice changed, "Forbidding Linda to see them is something that we strongly urge you not to do. I am not lying to you, Bill. She hasn't been around Dave as long as Jennie and Melissa had been around me when Diana told them to get their clothes ready to go home, but Linda has had a lot more happen to her world, lately. I think she's a lot more vulnerable than they were, and they had, to put it mildly, a come-apart when they were faced with the proposition of leaving me.

"Again, just go easy with her, and don't come down on Dave and Evie like they're trying to take your little girl out and ravish her. They are both honorable people. Diana has already talked to Evie a little about this. I'll talk to Dave. He has been, adamantly, a 'one-woman-man.' He is going to be just as upset with this when he realizes how strongly he feels about Linda, as you are. And understand, it's just starting. But I've been where Dave is. Once it has started, he can't any more shut it off than he can fly. This Alpha Male or whatever it is, isn't a one-way thing. It doesn't just call the female to the male. It calls the male to the female, just as strongly. It's being accentuated by the ... process that you've undergone the last two nights."

Suddenly grinning at Bill, Jeff continued, "Something like this will happen to you too. It was started by the ... process that you've undergone the last two nights. Your eyesight is going to get better, your hearing, and ... your ability to, uh, service the females in your life," he finished chuckling to the accompaniment of Diana's soft laughter from the back seat.

Jeff reached over and grasped Bill's shoulder, unconsciously squeezing harder than he meant to, yet not hard enough to really hurt. Staring Bill in the eyes, Jeff's voice changed again as he said (more convincingly then he consciously knew, due to his glands going into pheromone emission overdrive and his fledgling mental thrust adding its weight to the command) as he said, "I do not want you and Dave to get crossways with this. Both of you are my friends. I do not want that to happen!"

Madison found himself fighting not to answer, "Yes, Sir!" Startled, he finally looked away from Jeff's eyes, having felt Jeff's words.

Diana sniggered from the back seat. "Baby, you need to ease up a little. I'm getting this image of me being on my hands and knees with my rear in the air," she said, trying to break the tension.

"Sorry," Jeff said, giving Bill's shoulder a final squeeze and laughing as the pilot looked back at him with a grin on his face, but Madison's mind was far from calm, for the feeling he had received from Jeff had gone further toward convincing him that Jeff was different than anything the two of them had said.

Everyone a little embarrassed, they drove on back to the retreat. Just before entering the back door, Bill turned to the couple who were walking behind him with their arms around each other. "Diana, you talked about knowing where Jeff was all the time. I think you said that all your..."

" ... sister-wives," Diana injected.

" ... your sister-wives know where Jeff is all the time, too. Would it make you mad at me if I asked you to prove it?"

Diana grinned at him. "You're on, Big Boy."

Bill was taken a little aback by her enthusiasm. He had mostly thought that she believed that she knew where Jeff was. He expected her to give some kind of excuse, or stipulation.

As they turned the corner onto the hallway where the living room was, the four young wives met them, while Laura and Helen turned in behind them. As they gathered in the living room, none of the wives asked what was going on.

"The security system..." Bill started.

Jeff spoke to the computer and shut everything down inside the retreat, leaving the outside system working.

"I need to get Linda in here," Bill said.

"She and Kathy are in their suite," Arlene offered.

"Let's get Frank and Margaret, too," Helen said. "They'll get a lot of amusement out of this," she finished, starting for the phone.

A few minutes later, Linda and Kathy joined them, followed shortly by Frank and Margaret. Bill briefed the newcomers on what was going on.

"Hah," Margaret said, "why don't you give Diana a little challenge, like hiding Jeff on Mars or something."

Bill began to wonder.

"You make the rules," Diana said to Bill, breaking into his pondering.

Bill took a breath. "I want Linda, Kathy and everyone else to stay with you. I will go with Jeff. Jeff will hide somewhere that I pick and you can find him. If you can. Okay?"

When everyone agreed, Jeff's young wives giggling, Helen and Laura smirking, Bill feeling somehow like he had been had, he said, "Okay, three minutes from now, come find us."

Two minutes later, Bill picked a conference room at random. After they were inside, he grinned at a quiet Jeff and sat at the table. Jeff sat on the opposite side of the table and looked at his watch.

A little later, Diana opened the door and said, "Too easy."

"Crap," Bill said.

Kathy broke in, "Bill, she just suddenly said that you were ready, then walked directly here. She didn't try any other doors. I was right beside her all the time, and I didn't have a clue."

"This is neat!" Linda said. "How did you do that?"

Wainwright stood back, grinning, putting his arm around Margaret who had a smirk on her face.

Madison frowned, trying unsuccessfully to ignore them. "Okay, Kathy, please go with Jeff. Linda and I will stay with Diana and the others."

Jeff just grinned, following Kathy out the door, closing it behind them.

In the hallway, Kathy broke into a fast jog. "Come on," she said. "We'll make it harder this time. Although I'm already convinced," she added as they jogged side-by-side down the hall. "Diana was too sure. She knows that she can do it."

At the elevator, she paused to push the third floor button, quickly stepping out, then continuing down the hall. At the stairway at the end of the corridor, she quietly opened the door for a grinning Jeff, ushered him through, then noiselessly closed the door behind them. In the basement, they sprinted for a distance. Opening a door to a storage area, she smiled and made a sweeping gesture for Jeff to enter ahead of her. She quietly closed the door and waited in the darkness, not even turning on the light, neither of them saying a word.

A couple of minutes later, Ann opened the door a crack and shouted, "Boo!" then yanked the door wide.

Kathy almost jumped out of her skin, not having heard anything as everyone had quietly gathered around the door. "I changed the rules," Bill said, an odd look on his face. "Since they're all supposed to be able to do it, as soon as Diana said that you two were ready, I told Ann to do it. She came straight here at a jog."

"I even sent the elevator up, and we came down the stairs," Kathy said.

"I noticed that the elevator was on the third floor when we came past, but Ann didn't even slow down. The only problem," Bill said, fighting his own grin, "was that she was laughing so hard that she almost needed help pulling the heavy stairwell door open."

They did it twice more, but more for fun than to prove anything. "How do they do that?" Bill asked Jeff when Arlene effortlessly found him the last time.

"Don't ask me," Jeff laughed.

At Bill's bewildered expression, Helen said, "I didn't believe it either, at first. I was going to conduct an experiment, but by the time I got around to it, I had fallen for Jeff and had begun to realize that I could do it, too."

As they all reached the first floor again and passed an intersection, Jeff turned, saying, "Hey, where are Dave and Evie? Let's stop by their apartment."

The wives looked at each other. "Uh, not a good idea, right now, Dear," Diana said sotto voice. The other wives grinned.

Jeff did an about-face and said, "Okaaay," stretching the word out as he started back for the living room.

Bill didn't doubt Diana for a second, and the blush on Linda's face would have glowed in the dark.

-------

Jeff's four younger wives and Linda sat on her bed talking. Linda had told them about how she had been forced to go to another school and the things that were going on there. Linda had said that her father had given up and agreed that she could go to their school. This seemed to please everybody, and there was a lot of rejoicing.

Arlene reached over and took Linda's hand. "I guess I need to tell you something that I did and give you an apology..."

"... We did," Ann broke in. "We were all in it. You aren't the only one to blame."

"Well, it was my idea. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I stole your bikini top."

Linda looked amazed. "You stole my top? But why?"

"Well, I guess we didn't exactly steal it. We just put it on the top shelf in your closet, way at the back so you wouldn't find it."

"I thought I had gone crazy," Linda broke in. "But why would you do that?" she said looking around at the girls.

"I guess it's a long story, and it seems kinda stupid, now..."

"Oh, we were matchmaking," Melissa broke in.

"We had this wild idea..." from Jennie

" ... that, if you couldn't find..." from Melissa

" ... your suit, you and Kathy would..." from Ann

" ... have to take a bath..." from Arlene

" ... nude," they said in unison.

"How do you do that?" Linda said, looking around, her eyes big.

"Do what?" they said perfectly together, then broke up laughing.

"Okay, okay," Arlene said as everyone started to talk in unison again, "Let me do it. We decided that if you and Kathy became a lot closer that Kathy would have a better chance with Bill. It's obvious that she loves him, she gets cow eyes every time he walks into the room."

"Cow eyes?" Linda laughed. "Don't let her hear you say that."

"Well, we've been on a farm all week," Arlene giggled.

"So us in the Jacuzzi together with our tits bare was going to help Kathy and I become closer friends? And if we became close friends, then I would want her to become my dad's lover? Right?"

"Uh, it seems kinda dumb now, but yeah, that's what we thought. So we stole your top. We're sorry. I wish that I had just kept my dumb idea to myself."

Linda started laughing. "Well ... we did have a good time. Then I wound up crying on her shoulder. I guess that's getting closer to someone," she tried to joke, but remembering why she had cried on Kathy's shoulder made her think about her mother. Tears quickly overflowed her eyes.

"Oh, shit. I'm doing it again," she sobbed.

She had a lot of shoulders to cry on this time, but Arlene managed to get there first. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Linda kept saying. "I'm acting like a baby. I just can't believe my mother would do this to us. She's always been so nice to me. She's been my pal. We used to talk about everything. Then in the last year, she ... just... changed. Oh, I don't want to see her Tuesday. I'm scared to death."

Linda was quiet for a little while, all the girls trying to console her, then, "What if my dad does this to me? I won't have anybody," she sobbed.

"Your father isn't going to do that," Arlene said, pulling back a little so she could have eye contact with Linda. "It won't happen."

"But, I'm scared to death that it will!" she wailed. "I was a bitch to him right after dinner. I made him promise to bring me back Tuesday. He was frowning a lot. I know he's worried about what is going to happen in that meeting. What if Momma refuses to give him custody? I don't want to live with her and that ... that... doctor."

The crying went on. She wouldn't be consoled, worrying that she had pushed her father too hard to live at the retreat and let her go to Helen's school.

Finally, in desperation, when Linda wouldn't listen to them when they kept telling her that her father wouldn't abandon her like her mother had, Arlene said, "Look, Mom says that Bill is an Alpha Male. Alpha Males don't abandon their families — ever. The bond is too strong. And that bond is still strong toward your mother, as well as you. That's why Bill is so stressed. He's being forced to give up his wife. She's forcing him. Alphas have a strong responsibility to their families. Your dad can't abandon you, even if he wanted to — which, of course, he doesn't."

Linda's crying tapered off. After a little, she sniffed, then blew her nose on a tissue from the box that Ann had gotten for her. "What's an Alpha Male? I don't know what you're talking about. Uh, I think I read something about it once, but..."

"Mom says that Mr. Wainwright, Dave and your dad are all Alpha Males. We tend to agree with her."

Linda's eyes and nose were red, but she was listening, her crying forgotten for the moment. Arlene took a deep breath as she looked at her sister-wives, feeling their tension. Tentatively at first, then growing stronger, Arlene began to tell about their marriage and the Alpha Male in their lives, choosing her words carefully to not mention the healer directly.

Melissa and Jennie left for a little while, coming back with drinks and chips. Eventually all of them told their stories — at least an edited version. They didn't tell about walking in on their parents and siblings in Georgia, just that Jeff had managed to get Jennie's and Melissa's power of attorney so that they could live with him. They did tell about the episode on the deck with the hot tub. Going into detail about what Jeff had done to them, the blow job from Jennie on the deck, and the other one from Melissa in the shower, later, even the sperm cup on the kitchen table. Linda thought some of it was gross, but she forgot all about her troubles for the time being.

"But how does he ... I mean, there are seven of you. This friend of mine told me her boyfriend started to do it to her, but when he touched her with it, it ... uh, squirted and he couldn't get it up any more."

"Number one," Ann said, "Alpha Males don't have that problem. Trust me. Our husband can take care of us. Good care of us. And number two, men don't squirt when they touch you with it, like a boy does."

Arlene broke in, "Of course, sometimes you have to give a guy a hint, like whether you want him to make love to you, or fuck your brains out."

Linda's eyes got really big.

"And remember, they're men, so you have to give them subtle hints. Like in hit them over the head with it. Two weeks before Christmas you can really make over something in a store, and he might think it was a hint for a present, but if it's a month before Christmas, it will go right past him. The best way is to make a list — a detailed list. If it's on the web, then the address and the item number, at a minimum. If it's in a store that you frequent, then tell him to take the list to a clerk that you trust, and tell her beforehand; otherwise, it will probably be something like you wrote down. My mother taught me this a long time ago. It works for dads and husbands, too," she finished.

When the giggling quieted down, Linda sat for a moment looking embarrassed. Hesitantly she finally said, "Tell me about blow jobs. I've heard girls talk about them, but putting a guy's penis in my mouth ... That seems ... ugh."

"Well, don't knock it until you've tried it," Jennie laughed.

"Some women hate it," Arlene said, "At least that's what I've heard. But you can bet that there are seven of us who love to do it."

"But why would you like to do something like that?" Linda said, trying not to think about how bad it must taste.

"Well, for one thing," Ann said, "it makes you feel sexy as can be ... Sexy enough that we usually get off while we're doing it to him."

"And the look on his face when he's about to come," Melissa said.

"And if we wink at our husband just before he comes," he'll lose it instantly, Jennie interjected.

"And remember," Arlene said, "loving is giving. You'll have about a million orgasms when he sucks on your clit. Then when he pushes into you, it's ... I can't describe it," she said, blushing. "But you have to give back, and sucking his cock is part of it. But that's not something that's hard to give. Uh, pun not intended," she finished, giggling.

"But when he ... squirts in your mouth. That's..."

" ... the best part," Jennie and Melissa said together, then looking at each other, giggled.

The conversation went on until bedtime. Linda asked everything she could think of, and the girls answered in detail, and as Jeff had joked earlier, they gave examples if they had done it.

By the time the girls left, Linda was so hot that the suite door had barely closed before she had her hand in her pants. As she touched herself, she had a strong orgasm. Almost ripping her clothes off, she hopped into bed, her hand already south bound, her thoughts locked onto Dave, fantasizing about him walking into her bedroom and ravishing her body.

After several more intense orgasms, she barely managed to pull the sheet over herself before she was asleep. She didn't even move away from the wet spot.



-------

Chapter 51

MONDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 16

Monday morning, Jeremy and Roy Taylor were loading one of the equipment trucks on Johnson's lot in preparation for their trip to Carla's farm. An extra crew had used the tools in the shop over the weekend and hadn't returned everything to the truck. Jeremy looked at Roy and frowned as he tossed tools into the back.

"Hey, Roy," Jeremy said. "You've been here a lot longer than I have, and even I know that Lee insists that we put the tools in their places. He's gonna chew our asses when he see this." Jeremy picked up one of the three-foot long box-end wrenches that Roy had just tossed into the truck, and pushed it into the clips in the tool rack that were made to secure the wrench.

The clips and racks in the truck were designed so that a worker could tell at a glance if a tool was missing, not to say anything about easily finding the correct tool when it was needed. Being on a job without one of the specialized tools would mean that someone had to go back to the company lot to find a replacement before that part of the job could be accomplished. After hours wasted on several occasions, Johnson and Lee had designed the system. This way, the tools were always available on a jobsite, and it was easy to check to see if everything was accounted for when the work was finished.

Roy jerked his head around to stare at Jeremy. "You just take care of your shit, and I'll take care of mine, Kid. I was working here two years before your prima donna ass showed up."

Jeremy didn't say anything, just got in the truck and began stowing more of the equipment in their proper places.

Roy tossed a heavy air-driven impact wrench on the truck and stood looking at Jeremy. As Jeremy stepped down to go around to a side compartment, Roy said, "Saw you come in with the sluts this morning."

Jeremy ignored him. Opening the side door, he checked to see if anything was missing from the racks there. "Better make damn sure that you use a rubber on them, like I did," Roy continued. "Of course, they didn't charge me, but I imagine the price was pretty steep for you."

Jeremy knew that Roy was lying, but just sighed and let it pass. The bigger man walked up behind him, pointing unnecessarily at an empty set of clips, "The three-inch socket is gone," Roy said

"Yeah, I see. I'll go find it in a minute, just as soon as I finish checking the other boxes."

"How much did they charge you?" Roy asked with a sneer.

"Look, Roy, are you still drunk from the weekend, or is it a hangover?"

"None of your fucking business. And, I asked you a question. How much did the whores charge you?"

Jeremy slammed the door of the side tool cabinet shut and turned to face Roy. "Roy, you know damned well that they aren't whores."

"Bullshit!" Roy exclaimed. "The only reason that one got the crane operator's job is that she's fucking Johnson. Everybody knows that job should have been mine. I was the backup operator, but when the job came open, the fucking whore got it."

"Look, 'everybody' also knows that she's certified and you're not. If you wanted the job, why didn't you get certified, then you would have had a shot at it. And to set you straight, they are good friends of mine. They aren't whores or sluts, either."

"Yeah, then why are you riding with them?"

Sighing, knowing that it would get out sooner or later, anyway, Jeremy said, "No use us driving three different vehicles to work. We just rode together."

Roy thought for a second. "So you're living with the bitches?"

"Yeah, they were good enough to share their house with me so I could save more toward my college fund."

"Yeah, well, the sluts better stay out of my way. I'm about fed up with their shit."

Jeremy glared at him. "One more time: they're not sluts. And if you don't keep your voice down, they're going to hear you. Now why don't you help me load the truck so we can get on the road?"

"Oh, so your punk ass is giving orders now, is it? And I'll call the sluts anything I please," he said, stepping up and stiff-arming Jeremy hard on the shoulders, staggering him backward.

"Cut it out, Roy," Jeremy warned. "I think you're still drunk. If we get in a fight, Lee will fire both of us, and if you keep on calling the women names..."

"You're gonna what? Get your ass kicked?" Roy yelled, trying to stiff-arm Jeremy again.

Jeremy knocked Roy's hands aside before they connected with his shoulders, then pushed Roy away from him. This pissed Roy off and he swung. Almost before Jeremy realized what he had done, he blocked the punch and hit the bigger man in the solar plexus with the heel of his hand.

Roy staggered back trying to get his breath. Jeremy frowned at him. "You need to go home and sober up. If you try to hit me again, I'm going to put you down."

"Fuck you!" Roy screamed, swinging for Jeremy's face as hard as he could.

Jeremy blocked again, stepped a half-step backward and snap-kicked Roy in the face. Roy went over and landed on his back with a thud — stunned.

"Leave me alone, you idiot before you get the both of us fired," Jeremy said, none too quietly.

Lee stepped around the back of the truck as Roy scrambled to his feet, blood pouring from his nose and cut lip.

"You son-of-a-bitch, I'll kill you for that," Roy screamed.

"You try to hit the kid one more time and I'm going to put you in the hospital," Lee said as he walked toward Roy with a two-foot piece of pipe clutched in his hand. "And by the way, you're fired!"

"You can't fire me," Roy yelled, waving his hand at Jeremy. "You saw this son-of-a-bitch kick me."

"Sure did," Lee laughed. "And, I saw everything else, too. He can obviously stomp your ass without breaking a sweat, although, it looks like you're either too stupid or too drunk to realize it. I've already warned you twice that you were on thin ice for being late, plus that attitude of yours. You should have paid attention. Now get your ass off the lot. And before you say anything else, we'll mail you your check paid through today, but if you go in that office raising hell, your pay stops as of now. Better think about it," he finished as Roy blustered.

After a few seconds, Roy snatched off his hard hat, turned and frisbeed it away as hard as he could throw. The hat sailed twenty feet or so before striking the end of a steel "I" beam, then clattered to the ground with a large dent and a scrape down the side.

"Might as well carry the hat with you," Lee said, fighting not to grin. "You just bought it. I'll have payroll deduct the cost from your paycheck."

"Fuck you!" Roy screamed as he stomped off. "When I catch you out, I'll kick your ass, too."

"Why wait?" Lee yelled, his temper getting into the mix now. "I'm right here. Save you looking for me later."

"Ah, fuck you," Roy yelled, still headed for his pickup. As soon as he was inside and had the engine started, he floorboarded it, slinging gravel and fishtailing toward the gate. Narrowly missing the gatepost, he slid sideways onto the street, almost hitting an oncoming car.

By then, the whole crew was watching. Connie and Denise came running up. "Are you okay?" Connie gasped, out of breath. "We were all the way over on the other side of the lot checking out the crane. Did he hit you?"

Lee laughed at the women making over the kid. "Get the truck loaded. Looks like we'll be working short for a while. I'll go tell payroll to cut the idiot a final check minus the cost of a hard hat." Chuckling, he headed toward the office.

-------

Inside the office, he told Margie in payroll to figure Roy's time and cut him a final check. "Be sure to mail it before the day is out," he said.

The tall redhead grinned at him, "I'm glad you fired him. I never did like that prick. He always had some snide comment to make. He undressed me with his eyes every time he walked in here."

"Yeah, it was overdue. I just hate to fire people. But he had his chances," Lee said walking toward Johnson's office.

Johnson handed Lee a cup of coffee as he walked in. "What was all the ruckus out there? I saw everybody running toward one of the trucks, then some idiot peeled out of the lot."

"Ah, I fired Roy for fighting. But if I hadn't fired him for fighting, I would have had to fire him for sexual harassment."

Johnson took his seat behind the desk, blew gently on his coffee, then took a tentative sip. "Was he going on about the women again?"

Lee planted himself in the seat across from Johnson and crossed his legs. "Yeah, he was screaming about them being whores and sluts, bitching about not getting the crane operator's job. I've told him at least three times that he didn't get the job because he's dangerous. He put an "I" beam through the side of one of the feed bins we were installing, and damn near killed my ass in the same day. He drinks too much and is too hot headed."

Lee took a sip of the coffee. "Shit that's hot, but it sure tastes good. I guess he decided to take it out on the kid when he saw them all come in together in the same pickup. The kid kicked his ass."

"Well, if the kid tangled with him, he might be a little hotheaded, too," Johnson asserted.

Lee looked up at Johnson. "The kid did everything but kiss his ass to keep from fighting him. He waited way longer than I would. He didn't have any choice. None. He's a hell of a lot more easy going than I am."

Johnson laughed. "Well, that may not be bragging on him too much."

Lee grinned back at Johnson. "Ah, hell. You know what I mean. The kid warned him, and backed off both times. When Roy lost it and attacked for real, the kid ended it. Don't think he's a hothead. He's not."

"Okay. Okay. You know I don't run your crew. Now let's talk money. I got another call from this Henson. He said that his boss was thinking about buying another farm next door to the one you are working on. Said that they might be needing more silos and feed bins. What's this guy, some type of entrepreneur of something?"

"I guess you could call him that. But he bought that farm to keep that woman and her daughter from being foreclosed on. This Henson thinks Matthews is the best thing since sliced bread. And they're damn sure not afraid to get their hands dirty — any of them. They worked their asses off all night, a lot of the time with a shovel. And that cute little blond that belongs to Henson can run a loader as good as any man I've ever seen. And she ain't a damn bit afraid to show it."

Johnson leaned forward, putting his Styrofoam cup down on his desk. "Henson says that there's no major rush on these three, as long as we get them installed in the next few days. But we made some good money on the first three. If he needs another six for the other farm, there might be a bonus in it for you and your crew. He said that Matthews was pleased with the work and your attitude. He did some pretty tall bragging on you. Well done."

"Thanks," Lee sighed. "Beats the bitching of the last guy."

"Shit, don't worry about it. You couldn't please that guy if you gold plated that tank we installed for him."

Lee sat for a moment. "When are you going to fix the air in the crane? Even though we're into fall, it still gets hot in that thing because of the engine being so near."

"I already fixed it once. Is it broken again?"

"Nobody has done shit. Bert came out and looked at it a while back. Said something about ordering a compressor; then he was gone. That's the last I've seen or heard anything about it."

"Shit. Is that woman bitching about it?"

"Not really. But the sweat rolling off her face says a lot."

"All right," Johnson said picking up the phone. "Tell her I thought it was fixed. I'll stir Bert up. Damnit, I can't seem to hire anybody worth a shit, lately."

Grinning, Lee downed the last of his coffee, tossed the cup in the trash, and headed outside. Guess I need to quit calling him, Kid. He sure knocked Roy on his big ass. Damn, that was a great way to start a day. Chuckling to himself, he waved at Margie and went back to his waiting crew.

-------

"It's going to seem odd without you two around here," Jeff said at the breakfast table.

"We've had a wonderful time," Margaret said, looking at Frank, who grinned back, both obviously thinking about something private. "And since we're family, and this is our home, we'll be back Friday night, latest. You're going to see a lot of us until we wear out our welcome..."

"You can't do that," Diana broke in, "so just stop talking about it. You'll be home Friday, latest. And Bill," she said, turning to Madison, "please keep us posted on what's going on."

Bill paused with his eating, and smiled at Diana, "Like I mentioned, the lawyers and the detective have dug up some dirt on Jill's boyfriend about his medical practice. In addition, we know that he's instigating this for some reason. We think he's trying to get as much money out of her as he can. Whatever the reason, our lawyers are going to drop the bombshell about his practice on them Tuesday. She signs a reasonable divorce — I don't want to mess over her — with me getting full custody of Linda, or we go to court with the abandonment, and we turn the lawyers loose after him. I think that when they get through, he won't have a license to practice, and there will probably be a whole bunch of lawsuits filed by various people because of what he's been doing.

"If he is the one that's instigating the divorce — which I believe — then he will push her to go ahead and sign. The lawyers are confident it will fly. She's getting a reasonable settlement; she just has the choice of signing during that hour or going to court with the judge already aware of the abandonment issues. I want to get this over with. Unless something goes badly wrong, Linda will be back, ready for school late Tuesday."

"All right, we're going to hold you to that. We'll be looking forward to seeing the three of you then."

"Uh, boss," Dave said as Evie refreshed his coffee and offered the others a refill. "I talked to Carla last night. She said that the extended weather forecast isn't looking very good, anymore..."

"Have you got anyone else you can send them for a few days?" Jeff broke in.

"Not with our crews here. But Korey says he has several people in Denver that came from a farm. He's going to check this morning. If he has someone that can operate the equipment, we'll start around-the-clock operations until we either get everything in, or the rains set in.

"Lee called me just before breakfast. He says he'll have another silo in before they quit for the day. He said he had to fire one of his people this morning, so they'll be working one short, but they'll stay until the silo is in, and working."

Evie grinned at Jeff, obviously wanting to say something, hardly able to hold it back. "Tell them," she urged her husband.

"No, you do it," Dave laughed.

Beaming, she spoke to the group. "Fred called us back a little while after Carla hung up. They all went to church yesterday. It seems that most everyone there thought that Carla had lost her place and was moving, or had already moved. That's what she had told them last Sunday. The church is way out in the country, and there are a lot of farmers that go there. Most of them have either already gotten their crops in, or are close to it. To make a long story short, Carla and Jessica are going to get a big surprise either today or tomorrow. The people who had her horses are probably already there with their hay equipment, and others will be coming."

"The Thompsons next door have told Carla that she can use their storage if need be, since they sold their crops and are selling the farm, or at least part of it, tomorrow," Dave added.

The Matthews all smiled as Jeff responded, "If Korey can find someone, send them out late this afternoon ready to work tonight, anyway. We want to do our part. Hell, I can run one of those things. I made a few rounds with Fred. I'll work with them tonight."

Dave cleared his throat, "Uh, Jeff, you've got the thing with the lawyers about the Thompsons' place in the morning early. Let us take care of this, and you can do it later, if need be."

"You sure everything is ready for the silo crew?" Jeff said, a little disappointed.

"Foundations are in, new wiring, everything for the silos. A crew is starting the barn foundations and floor today. We're back on the classrooms and labs as well. Although we're going to hold off on the indoor range until we catch up with other things," he said, finally starting to eat again.

"Other than the worry about the meeting Tuesday, how are you feeling this morning?" Helen said, grinning at Bill, knowing that her husband had used the healer on him again last night.

"Like a million dollars," Madison said.

"I missed you in the pool this morning."

"I decided to take a day off from drowning in your wake," he kidded.

"We all swam with her this morning," Jennie said, "so we can relate to the drowning part," she finished, giggling.

Madison seriously doubted that, after the swimming exhibition, but he just grinned at her and kept eating.

-------

A few miles away in the valley, Carla, Jessica and Fred had walked out the back. Waving at the workers who had helped Saturday and were already back readying the equipment for the fields, Jessica heard something and looked up the drive.

Grabbing her mother's arm as she stood talking to Fred, Jessica hissed, "Look."

Two trucks carrying combines eased down the hill from the front section. While they stared, a tractor pulling a baler came into view, then shortly two more combines topped the hill under their own power.

Fred stood behind the women, putting a hand on a shoulder of each, unable to keep the grin off his face.

They spun around, and in unison, said, "You did this."

"I didn't do shit," Fred denied. "You gave the preacher a note asking him to include in his prayer thanks for you getting your farm back. I just told a couple of those farmers that you were working your asses off trying to get your crops in before the rains. They did the rest."

"Yeah, right," Jessica said. "I knew something was going on. First you were talking to a couple of those men, then the next time I noticed, you were in a huddle with a whole bunch of them. I finally decided that you were telling jokes. Now we know different."

The men from Dave's crew picked up on what was going on and motioned for the two trucks to go on over to the loading docks. Eugene got in one of Carla's combines and met the others as they passed the house, leading the way to the fields, the farmers not even stopping to talk to Carla and Jessica, just grinning and waving as they passed.

"I can't believe they're doing this for us," Carla said as she and Jessica stood with tears streaming down their faces.

"Oh, really," Fred said, putting his arms around them and hugging them from behind. "Seems to me just about everyone I talked to mentioned something that you or Sam had done for them. But I know how you feel. Jeff has helped me a lot, and it was hard to accept, even though I've helped people when I could. It's just a little different when it comes home. And before you start worrying about feeding them, their wives will be here later bringing everything. I told them that the house would be open if they needed the stove or microwave, or anything along those lines."

Releasing them as they turned to him, Fred said, "Now while the dew is drying off the hay, I suggest that you get on those four-wheelers and go make sure everybody is where you want them."

"Not just yet, we're not," Jessica said grabbing Fred's neck and pulling herself to him. When Jessica finally took her tongue out of his mouth and Carla managed to get to him, she repeated the process, complete with rubbing her groin to the hard lump in his pants.

Shortly, laughing, the women were on their ATV's and headed for the fields. Fred stood watching them for a moment, then walked over to his combine where Evans waited with his tractor and grain trailer.

-------

Shortly after breakfast at the retreat, the women had everything cleaned up. Evie and Dave left to check on the projects at the farm, while Jeff, his three older wives, Wainwright, Margaret, Bill and Kathy spent a few minutes in the living room chatting. The girls and Linda were in Linda's bedroom where the young wives were trying to bolster Linda's courage for the divorce proceedings.

The girls had teased Linda about kissing Dave goodbye. "I just kissed him on the cheek. He's married." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "But that's not where I wanted to kiss him."

The girls giggled and helped her with her bags. "Maybe after Tuesday, I won't have to be carrying my stuff back and forth."

"Why not just leave it this time. Surely you have plenty of other stuff at your house."

"Oh, I'm not carrying everything. And I've left all the stuff from my welcome present."

"Just remember," Arlene said, smiling. "This is your home now, and unless things really go bad tomorrow, you'll be in our school soon. All Helen needs is the okay to go ahead with the paperwork."

Linda looked around at the young wives. "I can hardly believe that I'm really going to be living here. I had such a good time this weekend. I'm going to love going to school here."

Ann chuckled. "Just get set, though. It doesn't bother Helen at bit to load us down with homework, especially if we've been somewhere and missed some of our school day. She does some of our housework for us so that we'll have more time for schoolwork, but beyond that, she just grins when we complain. She's been known to lecture while we're traveling in the SUV, or at the supper table. You're going to work your butt off. It's not spoon-fed like they do in public school."

Linda's face took on a more somber look. "I'm tired of being called a geek, and that's not even mentioning the adjective that usually comes in front of it. Here, it's going to be the other way around. I don't know whether I can keep up with you, or not..."

"Quit worrying, silly," Jennie said. "If I can do it, then you can. And don't let them get you scared of Helen. She's sweet as she can be. But you can bet that you won't have time to sit around and daydream like I bet you have been doing in that school. But Helen makes things interesting, and she gives us great projects, not just make-work things."

The phone interrupted their conversation. "Dad says it's time to go," Linda said, hanging up the phone.

"Just remember," Arlene said, "we'll all be thinking about you tomorrow. You call us as soon as you can. We want to know as soon as the meeting is over. Okay?"

"Okay," Linda repeated, a little misty-eyed. "Now let's go before I start bawling."

Laughing, the girls escorted Linda down the hall where she said goodbye, then on out to Laura's Escalade.

-------

Jeff worked out for a while, his thoughts wandering. Bored, he thought about grabbing one of his older wives, but found that they were also in class. He was in the process of making a fresh pot of coffee when the phone rang.

"Matthews residence. Jeff speaking."

Jeff pulled out a chair from the table and sat down, listening. Wadsworth, the Saint Louis lawyer, told him that the three patent attorneys that had handled the contract with Wainwright, Inc. had decided that they wanted out of the balance of their fee agreement with Jeff, which gave them a percentage of his huge sale price, and a large percentage of future royalties, in exchange for waiving an hourly charge when Jeff had cash flow problems, but had a sure major winner patent to sell. Instead of waiting for sales of Jeff's radars by Wainwright, Inc., to collect their percentage of royalties, they were very interested in a lump-sum buyout of the remaining part of their fees.

Jeff spent another fifteen minutes on the phone, then hung up, chuckling. When Diana and Laura opened the kitchen door a few seconds later to get a carafe of coffee for class, the chuckles had turned into guffaws that he couldn't seem to stop. It caught on with Diana and Laura giggling along with him.

When he finally looked as if he could talk, Laura said, "Okay. Now that that's over, care to tell us what started it?"

Jeff almost broke up again, but managed to control himself, wiping his eyes with a paper towel, still chuckling from time to time. Finally, steeling himself against more laughter, he said, "Those idiots. Those greedy idiots. They tried to sucker me when I sold my patent, but Wadsworth caught them. They were still going to get a sizable chunk out of every unit that Wainwright sold — out of my portion that is — without them trying to mess over me."

Diana poured him a fresh cup of coffee as he grinned up at her, then grabbed her. Squealing, she plopped down on his lap trying to keep from splashing the coffee out of the pot. Kissing her for a second, he massaged a plump nipple.

"Tell us," Laura and Diana said in unison as Diana put the pot on the table.

"Well, you see, they heard about some outfit doing a demo of an advanced type of radar in Canada. It's supposed to be far superior to mine. They figured with the Canadian government buying from this outfit, that my radar would never sell here in the U.S., let alone in Canada, or anywhere else for that matter."

"But..." Diana started.

"Yeah, I know," Jeff, trying to not start laughing again, gasped out, "I don't know how in the world Wadsworth managed to not die laughing. Whoever their source of information is, sure got things turned around. It was Tingle with the demo of my radar to shake up our government. Anyway, they called Wadsworth and wanted him to ask me if I would consider a buyout of their percentage of the royalties."

Jeff took a sip of coffee, then teasingly nipped Diana's left nipple through her top. "Will you quit that, and tell me what happened?" Diana said, frustrated.

"Well, Wordsworth, bless his little lawyering heart, told them that I had been buying a lot of land lately, spending money like crazy. He said that he was pretty sure that I wouldn't be interested, considering other things that were going on, implying," Jeff laughed, "to their little conniving hearts at least, that I was aware of this other outfit getting the sales.

"Before their conversation was over, Wadsworth had already gotten them down to a tenth of what they wanted to start with. He's going to fax me the paperwork to sign and fax back to him in a few minutes. The bottom line is that, with their greed, they just screwed themselves out of a lot of money."

Suddenly sitting up straight, he grabbed the phone and dialed Wainwright's cell number. When Frank answered just outside of Boulder, not yet at the airport, Jeff asked, "Has Tingle transferred any of my royalties into my account yet?"

"No, Jeff. You haven't really made any royalties yet. You know how long the government takes to do anything. It'll probably be a month before the sales actually go through and we get paid — at least that long. Have you got another project going? Do you need me to transfer some money into your account?"

Jeff laughed and told him that he didn't. Then explained what was going on.

After he hung the phone up, he had almost decided that Diana and Laura were going to be late getting back to class. Diana's nipples were tempting him more all the time, but again, the phone rang.

Diana got it this time. "Matthews residence. Diana speaking."

"Hi, uh, this is deputy Cramer. I was at your home the other day..."

"Oh, sure I remember you, deputy Cramer," Diana said, turning to grin at Jeff, who looked puzzled.

"Well," Cramer said, a little unsure of herself, "I just bought some ammo and was on the way to a place out in the country to practice. And well ... I thought that I would give you a call to see if I could use your range today. If it's a bother..."

"Hold on just one second and let me check with my husband," Diana said, muting the phone.

When she relayed the message, Jeff just shrugged. "I was thinking about getting in a little practice for everyone, but it's obvious that Helen is trying to catch up with school. Tell her it's fine with me."

Diana hit the button again and said, "That would be fine, with one stipulation ... that you join us for lunch."

"But Mrs. Matthews..."

"It's Diana. I'm not that old and crotchety, yet," she laughed. "How far away are you?"

"Well, I just left Winter..."

" ... Good. When you get here, follow the drive on around to the back. We'll be expecting you shortly."

"Mrs. Matthews — Diana ... are you sure about this? I don't want to impose. I would hope that I could use that beautiful range again sometime."

"You're not imposing, silly. We love company. There's no one here but us. Now, we'll see you in a little while."

Diana hung up the phone and grinned at Laura.

Laura stared back at her. "You're not..." Laura said, laughing.

"Well, who knows? She may be in a relationship. But she wasn't wearing a ring when she was here. She seems smart, and she darn sure is pretty enough, and well ... I just like her."

After Diana ended the call, Jeff had been thinking about setting up an obstacle course and maybe talking Helen out of keeping the girls in class all afternoon, not really paying much attention to Diana's remarks after it became apparent that the deputy was coming up to the retreat. His thinking processes were a few seconds behind the conversation, but suddenly they caught up. "What? Diana, that isn't funny."

"What isn't funny?" Diana innocently asked.

"You know what. I've got seven wives, in case you haven't noticed. This is not even a joking matter. I've learned to cut down on the pheromones, as you well know. I haven't had waitresses trying to sit in my lap for a while now..."

" ... And, we appreciate that, my dear. A little of it was funny, but it was getting to the point of being embarrassing. But deputy Cramer, unless I'm way off base, is quality. If you don't want her for a wife, you can still have her for a concubine," she teased.

"Concubine? Diana, I said my vows..."

Laura spoke up, putting her hand on her husband's, "We've been through this before. Your vows don't keep you from bringing in additional women."

Diana, now at the other end of the kitchen looking in one of the refrigerators, glanced back at her husband. Raising her voice a little to be better heard, "Like I said, she may be in a relationship, for all we know, but when she was out here, well, something just seemed to indicate she wasn't. We'll find out right away, and give you the go-ahead, if she isn't."

Diana took a couple of items out of the refrigerator and put them on the counter as Laura got up to help her.

"How are you going to find that out? Just say, hey, are you sleeping with someone?" Jeff groused.

Laura glanced back over her shoulder as she approached Diana, "No, silly. We'll know by the way she acts — and other things," Turning back to Diana, she asked, "What are we going to have for lunch?"

"Well, I thought about just warming up some leftovers. We sure have plenty, but ... we might just wait. Yeah, that's it. Let's put this stuff back. We'll talk for a while when she gets here, then start lunch. We'll see what she does. In a few minutes, we should have a good idea if she could fit in." Thinking for a moment, she continued, "Go tell Helen and the girls to wait until we call them so we can have some time with her before everyone comes in. Tell them they don't have to put their bras back on. We want to give Cramer a little hint."

As Laura walked by on the way out of the kitchen, "Don't I have a say in this?" Jeff asked, getting a bit more than just a little miffed.

"No," both women answered in unison. "You get all the pussy."

When Jeff frowned, Diana added. "Oh, we're just kidding. We want her to fall in love with you, not become your slut. But we have seriously discussed her. We all think that she shows a lot of promise. We'll know before the day is out. But when we give you the sign, turn on a little of the pheromones, and whatever else you do to get us wet. We want to see how she takes it."

Laura, who had paused as she walked past, kissed him on the cheek, then left giggling.

Jeff looked up at Diana as she walked over to him, her hips swaying, an extra little bounce to her breasts. She giggled and plopped down in his lap again, then kissed him — hard.

After a moment of that, Jeff pulled back. "If you don't want those pheromones knee-deep in here, you better quit that. You know damn good and well what pushing those fine titties of yours against my chest and kissing me at the same time do."

"Yeah, I guess I had better quit. You might scare the poor girl to death if you stood up with that monster trying to get out of your pants."

Jeff's face took on a serious expression. "Diana, please think about this. There are seven of you already. You know how much I love you, and all the others, but Baby, think about what another woman will do to our love life..."

"Yeahhh," Diana said, drawing out the word, deliberately misinterpreting what he meant, just to tease him. "Oh, Jeff, I'm so darn happy," she said, squeezing him in a hug. "Just thinking about another woman for you gives me goose bumps — good goose bumps. Imagine her lying beside me, totally out after you've made love to her, her pussy drooling your sperm..."

Looking under her butt as if in wonder, she continued, "Oh, what in the world is that I'm sitting on?"

Jeff chuckled in spite of himself, wanting to pull up her top and suck those wonderful breasts of hers, tempted to get her milk flowing just to mess with her with company coming, but knowing that he would never get his dick down if he did. "Get up hussy. I hope you're right about this. And I can always hope that she's married and just doesn't wear a ring on duty. Or maybe she likes girls..."

"Ooh, that would be nice, too," Diana teased, getting up.

"Shit, Baby. My dick is hard as a rock. I'll never get it to go down before she gets here."

"Go pee. I'll warm your coffee and won't tease you anymore until she gets here."

As Jeff got up, he stopped for a second as he tried to adjust his dick in his jeans. "Does that mean that you're going to tease me again after she's here?" he asked, half seriously. "Baby, I don't want to make a fool out of myself..."

Laughing, Diana said, "Go pee. I'll leave you alone."

A couple of minutes later, Jeff stood in a bathroom near the living room trying to push his dick down enough to aim at the commode. After straining, the stream finally started. She knows how to push my buttons. She can get my dick hard by just "casually" walking across a room with just the right amount of bounce to her boobs. As he got a clear mental image of her breasts swaying with that just-right gentle bounce of hers: Oh, shit. I've got to get my mind off that. It was going down for a minute. Okay, count backward from one hundred by threes. Mumbling to himself, he strained some more. Shit, that's not working. Maybe I should try sevens. Damnit, there are drawbacks to living with seven beautiful women. 100, 93, beautiful tits, 86, I need some pussy, 79, 75. No where was I? Oh shit. Go down! Oh the heck with it. I'll just push my dick straight up under my belt and wear my shirt on the outside.



-------

Chapter 52

Linda leaned into the cockpit. "How much longer?"

"A little over an hour," Kathy answered. "Bored?"

"Yeah, I guess. I just had a great time at the retreat, then all of a sudden there's nothing to do."

"Your games?" Madison asked, his eyes automatically sweeping the instruments even as he talked.

"They're boring, too. I miss everybody already."

Madison glanced at his daughter as she knelt and leaned forward to be somewhat between the pilots. "What about Mr. Wainwright and Margaret?"

Linda smiled. "They're cuddled up together, sound asleep."

"Maybe you should have brought your guitar, after all."

Linda giggled a little. "I don't think they could have slept with me trying to play the same chords over and over. Besides, my fingers are too sore. I have blisters," she said, holding her left hand out for Madison and Kathy to see.

Bill glanced at his daughter's fingertips. "Ouch. Maybe you went at it a little too long."

"Yeah, that's what Dave said. But it was so much fun. The first thing I knew, it was hurting when I pressed on the strings, and there were already blisters. Dave told me to leave the guitar alone for a couple of days. He said that the next time he was in Denver he would pick up some stuff at a guitar shop to coat my fingertips. But he said that the best thing to do was to just let them heal for a few days so that the calluses could begin to form. But I like the guitar so much it's going to be hard to wait."

Kathy glanced over at Bill, knowing that he had picked up on the mention of Dave. Sure enough, there was the beginning of a frown. "What about the girls?" Kathy interjected, trying to derail the direction the conversation was headed.

"Oh, they're great. I can't remember when I've laughed so much or had such a good time. They are so smart. And they say things together, kinda like identical twins sometimes do."

Kathy chuckled. "The girls aren't the only ones that do that. I've heard all three of the women do it, especially Laura and Diana."

Linda frowned. "How do they do that? It's a little eerie sometimes. But they just laugh about it, and sometimes seem to not even realize that they're doing it. That swimming they did wasn't exactly like the synchronized swimming I've seen on TV, but it was beautiful, anyway. And Dr. Boswell swims like a fish. They say she's a genius and had a couple degrees by the time she was sixteen."

Her enthusiasm rising, she settled back onto her folded legs. "Those ATVs of theirs are great. Ann told me to go to the bathroom before we went out. I thought she was kidding, but when we went off that thrill hill of theirs, I knew why."

Madison caught himself before he cringed. "Kitten, that sounds a little dangerous. Maybe..."

"Oh, Daddy. I was riding with their teacher. She was way calm compared to Arlene and the others. I don't think I'm ready to ride with Arlene just yet. I about screamed myself hoarse as it was."

"Uh, Kitten, ATVs can be extremely dangerous. A lot of kids and grownups too, for that matter, have been hurt and even killed on those things. Granted that they're fun, especially with all that space to ride in at the retreat, but nevertheless..."

"Daddy, you don't understand. You know that I'm not reckless or stupid, and I only drove for a little bit in a big flat place. But ... I don't know quiet how to say it, the girls are smart and different. They're not like any of the girls at my old school, let alone the ones at my new school. Sometimes it's hard for me to even keep up with what they're saying. One will say a few words of a sentence, then another one will answer before the first one is even done. After it goes back and forth like that for a while, I have to struggle to not get lost. And when Dr. Boswell is with them, she does it, too."

"Well, Baby, they've been together much longer than you've been around them. They have a common background and such. Maybe they're not being all that considerate of you if they do that."

"Oh, Daddy. That's not what I mean. If I miss something, they tell me. But it's fun doing that. Real fun. They're smart. I have such a good time just being around them. But I'm going to have to work hard to catch up with them with video games, too. They're so fast. But they're showing me how."

Arranging herself more comfortably, she continued, "They showed me their classroom — well all of them did, the women included. Dad, they have real computers with gigantic, high-resolution screens that are the best there is. Not like the junk that we have at school. Heck our teacher barely knows more about computers than I do. But Dr. Boswell and Laura are teaching everybody to write programs. Not just simple stuff like we've had at school, but real programs. And they all know how to take a computer apart and put it back together. And it works afterwards. I've got a lot to learn, but Dr. Boswell makes it fun. She says that the school has every major program that's on the market. What we have at my school is a joke in comparison.

"They had a diagram of their new classrooms and labs. The rooms are a mess now, but they're going to be great when they're finished. I just hope I can keep up." Laughing, she said, "Boy, that's a first. I've always been bored with school."

Madison glanced over at his daughter. "Jeff showed me around. The new classrooms are indeed going to be great. For that matter, even the way that they've set up that conference room is beyond anything I've ever seen in a school."

"Daddy, Dr. Boswell has already ordered a computer for me. She says it will be there when we get back, Tuesday. But it will still be in the boxes. She says that I will get to assemble everything the way I want it, and install all the software as part of my education. Then I get to take out boards and memory, then put them back. She says that later, I'll completely dissemble the whole thing to the bare case, then reinstall everything, so that I can better understand what things do. Laura does the teaching about the computers and the programming, but Ann has, like, grown up doing it because of her mother's old job."

Bill couldn't help but smile as he listened to his daughter's enthusiasm. It's been so long,  he thought, as she continued.

"Dr. Boswell says that she could already have tested all the girls out of high school, but she wants to teach them some practical things about life before they graduate. She says that the emphasis in public school doesn't prepare students for life, or college. She said that with Carla's permission, the class is going to keep duplicate books for the farm, and she has contacted the accountant to have his input into the class after she finishes teaching us basic accounting. But the farm will be a practical application that is ongoing, and will make what we're doing real. She's already teaching about investment and the stock market."

Coming up to her knees, she hugged her father from behind as best she could in the cramped cockpit. "Thank you for letting me go to school there. I'm going to love it. I already love it. They almost had to drag me out of the classroom, and it's just their temporary classroom," she finished with a tinkling little laugh that Bill hadn't heard much in a long time.

Kathy answered the radio, changed to another frequency, then spoke again. After a moment, finished with the radio traffic, she turned to Bill and said, "I guess that I should be relieved to be moving out of my apartment. It surely isn't much, but I have some really fine neighbors that have become friends. I'm going to miss them."

"So. Go visit them when we have downtime," Bill laughed. "But I know what you mean. I hate selling our house. We've been in it a long time. There are a lot of memories..." His voice almost faltered before he caught himself. "But, at least, we won't have to spend time house hunting. We've got one ready-made," he tried to jest, fooling neither of the females.

Linda reached over and hugged him tight. "I'm going to miss her," she quietly said, tears welling in her eyes.

"Yeah," Madison said so quietly that Kathy wasn't sure that she had heard him.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Linda said trying to get her mind off her mother.

Madison and Kathy both told her, "No."

"Okay, I'm going to try and find something to read," she said moving back into the passenger compartment.

A little later as they started their descent, "Sounded like that controller recognized your voice," Madison said, looking over at Kathy.

"Why? He didn't say anything different."

"Yeah, but even on the radio, he sounded different."

"Well, he did ask me to drink a cup of coffee with him, and he's a good-looking guy," Kathy said, acting nonchalant, but trying to watch Bill out of the corner of her eye.

"Well? Did you go out with him?" Bill asked, then was appalled that it slipped out of his mouth.

Kathy grinned over at him. "And why would you care?" she teased.

"Kathy, I..."

"Of course, I didn't go out with him. And you very well know why."

Bill's eyes did their automatic sweep through the window, then across the instruments before turning to Kathy. "I'm so messed up right now. And I have no right..."

"Bullshit. You have every right, if you want to call it that. And I know you're hurting. You certainly have the right for that, too. But if that judge signs the papers tomorrow, you'll be a free man. Time to go on with your life. Oh, I know the divorce won't be final for a while, but you can sell the house, change your address to the retreat, move what you need to, start your daughter in a new school, maybe even date a new woman..." She left it hanging as she grinned over at him.

When Bill made no response, she continued, "Now let's see if I can kiss that runway again, like the last two times. I did have the best instructor there is, you know, but the wind is gusting pretty hard today. I might screw this one up." Concentrating, she carefully watched her descent.

-------

As the deputy's car turned into the drive, Diana entered Cramer's name into the security system. Turning to her husband, she said, "Laura and I will meet her out back. Why don't you watch TV for a little while? We'll spend some time getting acquainted, then give you a call."

"Baby, she just came to shoot on the range..."

"Yeah, that might be it. But she might just have come to check out our Alpha Male. We noticed her looking at you before. Now disappear for a little while. We'll check out your future wife and give you a call."

The giggle she finished with didn't fool him one minute. Diana was serious about this, he knew. Surely the deputy is married. She's young, but she's got to be twenty-two or twenty-three. Someone has bound to have caught her by now. As good looking as she is, she's probably had a flock of guys hanging around her since puberty. Probably just doesn't wear her wedding ring on duty. I'm pussy whipped already. I don't need more pussy,  he grumbled to himself as he dutifully headed for the living room.

Diana and Laura were standing in the back when the deputy parked and got out of her car. Diana checked her out with a critical eye. Beautiful face, long, full head of striking hair, really dark, but with auburn or red highlights,  Diana decided. High breasts shown to good advantage with that tight top. Long slim legs, small waist. Altogether, a knockout package. Yeah, Jeff will like that.

Diana put out her hand. "I know that we hit you with a lot of names last time, so to refresh your memory, I'm, of course, Diana, who just talked to you on the phone, and this is Laura." Deliberately, Diana didn't remind her that she was Jeff's wife.

Cramer laughed and shook hands with both of the beautiful women, awed at their vitality and beauty. "Hi. Please just call me Joyce. I really appreciate this. We have qualifications coming up in a couple of weeks and I haven't practiced much lately."

Diana and Laura flanked her as they walked to the back door. "Oh, we thought that you were probably preparing for a match," Diana said.

"We have some coming up later, but, well, if I don't shoot a hundred on our qualification course, I'll catch all kinds of flack, being on the pistol team, and ... Well, being a woman, and young, there are some of the older guys that think I've overstepped my bounds a little. They can't say too much if I ace the course both times."

"Way to go, girl," Diana said. "That's the attitude. We like to shoot, too. We've spent quite a bit of time on the range until last week. We got involved with a farm in the valley and haven't managed to get back on the range lately."

In the kitchen a little later, Laura asked, "Like some coffee while we get acquainted? We'll start lunch in a little bit."

As she sat at the table, "Sure," Cramer said. "I have a cup of coffee in my hand every chance I get, particularly in the winter. Speaking of that, last winter, I got stuck directing traffic on a bad wreck. I guess we were out there a little over four hours. This lady came by, stopped for a second, rolled down her window and asked how I took my coffee. I told her lots of cream and two sugars. A little later, she came back through and handed me a big cup of coffee, smiled and kept going. I didn't even get a chance to get her tag number so I could call her and thank her. But I surely did appreciate the coffee. I was about to freeze."

Laura put cups on the table while Diana got the pot. "We've got just about every kind of soft drink there is, and a wine cellar, too. Of course, the wine is out if we're going to the range, but the drinks are over there," she said, pointing to a large refrigerator at the other end of the kitchen. "You don't have to ask, any time you want one, just take your pick. We'll carry some to the range with us when we go."

"So, you're going to shoot with me?" Cramer asked as Diana poured coffee for them.

"Yeah," Diana said. "But it will just be Laura and me, and Jeff of course. The girls are in school, catching up a little on the time they have missed lately."

Cramer smiled back at the women, thinking, Oh, great. They're going to shoot with me. I wanted to run through the course a couple of times, then shoot one of those trees. Now I'll have to babysit a couple of civilian women, worrying about one of them accidentally shooting me.

Almost as if she could read Cramer's mind, Diana said, "Jeff runs a very strict range. When you're done firing each stage of the course, he wants you to secure your weapon in the holster, step back and come to parade rest. We've shot several of the states' minimum standard courses, but you'll have to show us Colorado's."

Suddenly Cramer had the distinct feeling that she was missing something, but she wasn't exactly sure what.

With coffee and the accompaniments on the table, Diana and Laura sat down. "Now tell us all about yourself. How in the world did you decide on being a deputy?"

-------

Jeff walked into the kitchen. Cramer was in the process of putting a bowl of creamed potatoes on the table. Every head except Cramer's swung in his direction as he entered. Not that they just knew he was coming, for they certainly did, but they all wanted to see his reaction when he saw Cramer.

Crap,  he thought, that body armor she had on under her uniform surely did hide a fabulous figure. Her hair is down today, and that tight top and jeans really look good on her. I think she's wearing just a hint of makeup, too. Shit, she's gorgeous. Feeling himself beginning to swell as he wondered what she would look like nude with hooded eyes looking up at him as he made love to her, he quickly eased into his seat.

"Good morning, deputy Cramer."

"No 'deputy Cramer' today. My name is Joyce," she said turning to him and putting out her hand.

Jeff stood as he took her hand, and their eyes locked.

Oh, shit,  they both thought as they felt something almost like an electrical shock.

Jeff quickly sat back down while he still could without embarrassing himself.

Cramer turned back toward the other women to get something else to do, wondering what she had said. She wasn't sure. She was sure that everyone was looking at her.

Ann leaned over and whispered in Joyce's ear as she passed with more food. "He's like that. Don't let it get to you. There's a tray of glasses on the counter. You can bring those if you like."

Stunned at what Ann had said, Cramer got the tray, carefully walking back to the table with them, then began putting one by each plate.

Diana leaned over and whispered in her husband's ear. "Tone it down, Big Boy. We know you like her, but she doesn't know what's hit her." Kissing him lightly on the ear to cover, she put her bowl of food down and looked around to check if everything were ready.

Cramer was ushered to a seat between Arlene and Ann, wondering what had just happened, but afraid to look at Jeff. Helen said the blessing and they ate.

When lunch was over, Cramer pitched in to help with cleanup, marveling at the efficiency of all the women. The teenage girls laughed and cut up as they zipped back and forth in the big kitchen. Cramer did manage to rinse some of the dishes and stack them on the drainboard of one of the sinks. Jennie picked them up and had them in one of the dishwashers in seconds. In a matter of minutes, all the food was put up, the dishes in the dishwashers, two new pots of coffee were making, and the counters and table were wiped down.

The deputy looked around her at the beautiful kitchen, marveling at the glossy granite countertops, the long beautiful counter that ran partway down the center of the kitchen, where elegant high-backed stools lined one side to produce a bar for eating, or for food preparation. The ovens, dishwashers and all the appliances, for that matter, were obviously industrial grade, but still retained the elegance to match the rest of the kitchen. Someone spent an awful lot of money in here,  she thought.

Diana smiled at Cramer. "You get used to it. But the size is a little overbearing to start with. With as many of us as there are, it makes cooking a lot more fun, though. Sometimes, we divide up the work for a day or two, so that we don't get burned out, but most of the time we just all pitch in and help. We enjoy being with each other and before we know it, the meal is ready, or the place is cleaned up, as the case may be."

The girls filed by to give Cramer a hug before leaving for class, their laughter and voices suddenly shut off as the kitchen door closed behind them. Helen stopped in front of Cramer as she stood near one of the counters. "I'm going to hug you, too," she said putting action to words. "I wish we could go to the range with you, but we're making up school time today, so I'm going to have to go with the girls. But, maybe we can do it some other time."

Cramer told her that she would like that. Helen soon left with a wink to Diana that Cramer caught, but didn't understand. She did know that some communication happened, and thought it involved her, but other than that, she didn't have a clue.

A little later, Cramer helped Jeff load ammunition and targets onto one of the ATVs. "We use different targets," she said as she put a box of her targets on the four-wheeler.

Jeff glanced at the box. "These are the type that your department uses for qualifications?" Jeff asked, noting the number on the box. "I'll stock some for the range."

"Uh, you don't have to do that, Jeff. Letting me use your beautiful range is wonderful. I was going way out in the country. I made a target stand and pounded it into the ground. The rancher lets me shoot there any time that I want, but it's way out. I have stepped off the yardlines and have just put a rock to mark each distance. It's crude but it works. But your range is so much closer, not to say anything about how great it looks. I'm anxious to try shooting one of your trees, too."

Jeff, thinking that it had probably put a dent in her budget, nodded to the four boxes of reloaded ammunition that Cramer had bought. "No need to shoot your ammo. We have plenty," he said, motioning to the cases stacked in the corner of the garage. "Why don't you save yours for when you have to go out to that ranch?"

"I can't shoot your ammunition," Cramer said, "I'm just grateful that you are letting me use your range..."

"Nonsense," Diana said as she strapped on her gunbelt. "We're going to give your shooting team some ammunition, anyway. Just consider this to be part of it."

"I still feel like I'm imposing," the deputy said.

"You can't do that," Laura said, as she checked that her weapon was secured in its holster.

Jeff started the ATV and went toward the range. Being lazy today, Diana and Laura both got ATVs, and with Cramer riding behind Laura, followed Jeff.

Cramer gave Jeff a printout of Colorado's Minimum Standards course of fire. After reading through it, and discussing it with the deputy, they fired the course twice. The deputy's original worry about having to shoot with civilians was quickly appeased. Jeff maintained every bit as much discipline on his range as her own firearms instructor did on the county range.

From a safety viewpoint, she had been very impressed with Laura and Diana. They never spoke a word once they were on the firing line, did only what the firearms instructor said, handling their weapons with competence and safety. Cramer was positioned between the other women as they fired the course. As she reloaded her magazines halfway through the first course, she surreptitiously checked out their targets. She and Laura were about neck and neck. A glance at Diana's target got her full attention, and Cramer forgot about being surreptitious.

Staring at Diana's group, which was probably a third the size of her own, the deputy paused in loading her magazines. And I was worried about shooting with civilians. Crap, now I'm embarrassed with my shooting. How in the world did she learn to shoot like that? Forcing herself to concentrate, she quickly finished and signaled Jeff that she was ready for the next stage. Both women were already standing at parade rest, waiting for her.

When they finished the course the second time and were standing in the range house drinking a coke, Cramer looked at Diana, "Where did you learn to shoot like that? I was a little uptight about shooting with civilians," she said, fighting not to blush, "But I guess that was arrogance on my part. Laura, you shot every bit as good as I did, and Diana, well..."

"It's a long story," Diana said. "We'll tell you about it later. Now, didn't you want to shoot the tree?"

"Yeah, that would be great, although shooting against you isn't going to give you much competition."

Laura, with a grin on her face, said, "I'll be back in a minute," and got on an ATV and left.

"Shall we move our stuff over to the shooting trees?" Jeff said, wondering what Laura was up to, then worrying that he knew.

Cramer shot the tree for two cycles without a competitor, just practicing. "Boy, that reset is certainly nice," she said, chuckling. "Pressing a button on a remote and having all the plates snap back into place sure beats picking each one up off the ground and balancing them back on little platforms like we have to do with ours."

Jeff laughed with her. "Yeah, been there. Done that. This really spoils you."

Laura pulled up with a box on the ATV. Recognizing the box, Jeff frowned.

"Don't even start, Husband," Laura said, handing him the box. "Put your rig on and entertain the lady."

Cramer heard the "Husband" from Laura, and things began to jell in her mind.

"Look," Jeff said, "you know I don't like to do this."

"It's time she saw a little of what an Alpha Prime can do," Diana said, watching Cramer.

"Oh, I love the cowboy action events. Please shoot for us," Joyce said, wondering what an Alpha Prime was.

Sighing, sure this wasn't a good thing to do, Jeff strapped on his rig.

"You should see him in his full outfit," Laura said.

Laura cleared the memory in the timer and readied it on the little table next to Jeff as he loaded his single action .45.

Jeff made sure that everyone had their ear and eye protection on, and Laura pressed the button on the timer for a random time. Shortly a beep began to sound, but the sound was covered up with the roar of the .45 and the clang of the targets on the tree being slammed around and locked into position.

"Oh, my goodness," Cramer exclaimed as she stared at the timer's screen, then back at the tree where Jeff had cleaned the targets almost faster than she could count. "That's the best time I've ever heard of."

Diana frowned at the display. "Jeff, quit messing around and shoot for Joyce."

Cramer stared at Diana.

"Oh, he's modest," Diana said. "He can shoot better than that left handed — literally."

"Diana, look ... I really..."

"Show her what you can do," Laura interrupted, "it's time," she mysteriously finished.

"Forget about watching the targets," Diana interjected, "He never misses. Just watch his hand. And literally don't blink, or you won't see the draw."

After what had already happened, Cramer was ready to believe she shouldn't blink. But he could do better? That was hard to believe.

This time when the timer began its beep, Jeff put his all into it. Cramer caught herself still staring at Jeff's hand, even as he began unloading the weapon. Her eyes finally drifted to the totally unbelievable time on the display. But I saw him draw, so I have to believe it. Well, not exactly saw him draw. I was looking at his hand when he did it. But I didn't really see it.

"He doesn't do this for competition. He quit when he realized what he could do," Diana said, looking at her husband with lust plain on her face.

Laura winked at Cramer.

"Now why don't you ladies shoot the tree together? A little competition will be fun," Jeff said, embarrassed as he put his rig back into the box.

Cramer wanted to say something to him, but didn't know what. She was almost sure that she had caught a whiff of aroused female, and for some reason she was having trouble taking her eyes off Jeff. Is he married to both of them? Laura called him "Husband," yet I know that Diana is his wife. For that matter, what about all those teenage girls and their teacher? They surely do have a relaxed relationship, and they all look at him a lot. Something is going on. I've been around guys that thought they were good with a gun. Hah, they would shit if they saw him shoot. And what's this about an Alpha Prime?

Realizing that she had been staring at Jeff, as he grinned at her, she quickly turned to Laura, "Hey, shooting the tree together would be fun? Are you up for it?" Cramer hadn't realized that she had stood with a vacant expression for a moment, making her answer seem odd after so long a pause.

Smiling back at Cramer, Laura knew exactly what was wrong, having felt the pheromones and whatever else Jeff did. When he went full-out with that last draw, the feeling had become very intense. It was all she could do to keep from pressing herself against him and kissing him. She had dropped the hint about the husband as she and Diana had planned. It was time to let the pretty deputy stew awhile, though. Now if she could just beat Cramer on the tree a time or two, it should really start the ball rolling.

Grinning at Cramer, she loaded her magazines. Well, if I can't beat her, I know that she won't stand a chance with Diana. Being torn a new one by a civilian will get her attention, and I might just beat her, too. When we get back inside, I'll kiss Jeff — just a quick one, to make her wonder some more. We're going to arrange it so that she bumps into Jeff. She'll bounce off those hard muscles, and with his reflexes, he'll catch her. She'll be in a daze by the time we sit down to talk.

Cramer and Laura lined up facing the tree, awaiting Jeff's signal with their weapons held in a ready gun position. When Jeff gave the command to fire, Laura's rounds walked up the targets on the right side of the tree just a little ahead of Cramer on the left, then Laura took out the top target a fraction of a second before Cramer got there.

Yes! Laura thought as she glanced over at the startled deputy. I'm not a Queen Bitch, but I'm not a pushover, either. I may never beat you again, but I managed that time.

"Okay, I lucked up and beat you once, and I might not get so lucky next time. Diana will shoot with you this time."

"But you won," Cramer said, "Diana should compete with the winner, not me."

"I'll shoot with you in a little while," Laura said, taking the magazine out, then ejecting the round from the chamber. Securing the pistol in her holster, she stepped back, winked at her-sister wife, and said, "Diana, you shoot for a while, I'm tired."

Diana stepped up beside Joyce, and on command, charged her weapon. This time on the command to fire, Cramer got a rude introduction to how well Diana could really shoot.

Laura stood watching with a shit-eating grin on her face, fighting to keep from sniggering out loud. You are, indeed, beautiful, and obviously intelligent, but you're going to realize that it's an honor to be invited to join this harem,  Laura thought as she watched the astonished look creep across Cramer's face.



-------

Chapter 53

MONDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 16

The afternoon on the range with Jeff, deputy Joyce Cramer, Diana and Laura had gone just the way that Diana and Laura had hoped. Laura had shot the tree twice more with the deputy, winning one and losing one. Diana had beaten Cramer three times out of three — well "beaten" might not have been a strong enough word; stomped would probably be more accurate. Cramer knew she was pretty darn good, but so was Laura. She didn't even have a word for Diana. She had come onto the range with a bit of an attitude about having to shoot with civilians. Then one of the civilians was every bit as good as she was, and the other was ... way beyond her.

Cramer had fired her qualification course twice more while the women watched, acing it both times.

By the time they had policed up their brass, gotten rid of the used targets, and cleaned their weapons, the afternoon was about over, with everyone tired. Cramer put her gear in the trunk of her car, thanked them again and was about to say goodbye when Diana insisted that she join them for something to drink.

"Oh, that sounds nice, but I've already taken up most of your day. I'll stop and pick up a drink on the way back..."

Jeff's wives looked at her. "Nonsense," Diana said. "Come on inside. Let's sit down and relax for a little while and get to know each other some more. Unless, of course, you had rather..."

"No, I don't have anything to do..." Cramer started.

That was all that Diana needed. She grabbed Joyce's arm, ushering her toward the back door. "That's great. Come on. The girls should be out of class shortly. We can fix something to eat and have a gabfest. Do you swim? We've got a nice pool. We could grill some burgers. We'll have a ball."

"But I didn't bring a suit with me," Cramer managed to get in.

"Oh, we have dozens of them. We're bound to have one that will fit you just right," Diana answered, whisking Cramer down the hallway.

Laura hung back with Jeff. "Do you like your new pussy, Husband?" Laura asked, grinning.

"Baby, I hope you two know what you're doing. I like her a lot, but did you ever find out if she is married?"

"Not married. No boyfriend. She's just been waiting for Mr. Right to come along. We'll get the real lowdown before the night is over. She can ride to Denver with us tomorrow when we go to the lawyer's office, then pick up Linda's computer. She's taking some comp time that she has built up from working extra in the department. She'll be part of us in no time."

Stopping out of sight of the other two, Jeff backed Laura against the wall, lifted her chin with a fingertip. She looked so beautiful that he had to stop and kiss her before he could ask any more questions, though.

"Oh, Jeff, I love you so," she said, fiercely hugging him when they broke the kiss. "I don't know what I would have done without you in my life. And my daughter loves you so much. Thank you for being our man."

Jeff sighed. "Baby, I love you just as much, and Ann, too, of course. But what brought this on about Cramer? True, she's very pretty and seems to be intelligent, but why did you two start this all of a sudden?"

Laura hugged him, then leaned back against the wall. Glancing down the hallways for a second, she turned back to Jeff. "Maybe it had something to do with Evie going after Linda. I don't know for sure. But a few days ago, Diana mentioned that it was time to add another woman. We all talked about it, and agreed that deputy Cramer was the only woman we had been around that seemed to fit the bill. When she called, it was almost like providence or something."

Jeff snorted.

"Well, let's just say that we seized the opportunity."

"But why in the world would you or Diana think that I needed another woman? I mean, I have seven, and I'm just one man."

Laura grabbed his belt with her left hand, then tapped him on the chest with a fingertip of the other, as Diana was wont to do. "One man my ass. You're an Alpha Male, and more. By the healer's society, you're a Prime. Half the time, you go to sleep with that pole sticking straight up, anyway, so don't try to tell us that you can't handle another woman."

"But, Baby, she's a deputy."

"So? Diana is your only legal wife. We don't profess to be your wives in public."

"But there is Arlene. And I know we talked about this before, and I guess the incest laws aren't generally pushed unless it is an underage child, or the person complained, but Cramer is a deputy," he repeated, frowning.

"So, police aren't supposed to police their families. If she joins us, she isn't going to complain about Arlene. Remember, whether you believe in it or not, we can feel the effect you have on us. When you really tried on the range, she felt it. When you make love to her and turn on whatever it is that you do, she's going to wake up knowing that she has found her man. And she'll be right. She'll be proud that your semen is in her — proud. It will feel right. But she's already falling in love with you. She won't have a chance by tomorrow night.

"And don't even start about it being too quick. We both know that things are different around you, our Alpha Male."

Grabbing his neck, Laura kissed him again, then the couple walked down the hall toward the kitchen, Laura holding her arm tightly around his waist, and Jeff with his arm around her shoulders.

When they entered the kitchen, still cuddling, Joyce looked up at them from her seat across from Diana. Laura turned to Jeff and kissed him. She didn't hold the kiss for more than a few seconds, but it was a real kiss.

"There you are," Diana said, getting up and kissing her husband, the kiss lasting a little longer. Turning to Laura, she lightly kissed her on the lips.

Glancing back at Joyce, Diana grinned at her. "Come on to our suite. The class just finished. The girls and Helen will be there shortly. We'll find you a suit, then get ready for our cookout." Turning back to Jeff, she instructed, "Get our grill going, Big Man. We'll meet you there in a little while."

Diana kissed her husband again, then Laura really kissed him this time, leaving no doubt in Cramer's mind that something was going on.

"Uh, maybe I should just go on..."

Jeff put his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed, "We want you to be here. Please stay."

Cramer's face flushed as she looked up at him, wondering what was happening. I'm acting like a little girl. I tingle all over, and oh, my gosh, I'm getting wet. No man has ever affected me like this. What's wrong with me?

"Uh, okay," she heard herself quietly stammer. Before she could further make a fool of herself, Laura grabbed Cramer's hand and dragged her out of the kitchen.

Diana looked back at her husband and winked. A second later, she followed the other two through the door.

-------

Cramer, Diana and Laura, made a couple of turns and wound up in a large sitting room. Cramer glanced at the exquisite furniture and the giant high definition TV, as Laura ushered her on through to the bedroom. They need to pass out maps,  the deputy thought. I'm not even sure I can find the kitchen, again.

Then she saw the bed. Clearing her throat, knowing that her face was glowing, she said, "That bed is bigger than my whole living room..." Her mind in a turmoil, she didn't even notice the even bigger TV in the bedroom.

Laura took her hand and tugged her around to the vanity area. Oh, my gosh. Look at the vanity sinks. These two aren't stupid. They're doing a lot more than just getting me a suit to wear.

"This is our shower area," Diana said as Cramer stared.

Bidets in each area, she thought and a urinal over there. Wow. You can see inside the shower area from the urinal. Looking at Diana and Laura who both looked like they were about to burst, she started to laugh. Looks like he's designed it for some eye candy while he pees,  she mused.

"We didn't come in here to get me a suit," she accused, her laughter threatening to change into giggles.

"Well, we are going to get you a suit," Diana said, a smug look on her face, "but we thought you should know a couple of things."

"But why did you..." Joyce started to say, then stopped, her intelligence bridging the gap, her cheeks beginning to flush.

Walking back into the bedroom, she plopped down in one of the seats, idly noticing the beautiful fabric covering it. How many is he married to? My gosh, there has to be ten or twelve of the vanity sinks, and that closet is enormous. Why are they telling me this? But I think I know why. They asked me about a boyfriend or a husband. Oh, shit! Her thoughts in turmoil, she looked up as the bedroom door opened.

The other wives trooped in led by Arlene. She took one look at Cramer's white face and did a U-turn. Back in the sitting room, she got ice, a glass and a coke. Returning, she poured the drink and offered it to Cramer. "Guess Mom has told you, huh?"

Cramer absently took the glass, then a sip, trying to get her brain started again. "Uh, I guess she did, sort of," she quietly said, then realized that there was a distinct tremble to her hand holding the coke.

Diana pulled up another seat next to Cramer. The others arranged themselves on the bed, seats or the floor near Cramer. Diana took the deputy's hand. "My husband has seven wives. We love him and he loves us. We have more money than we could spend in ten lifetimes. We decided to let you see us for how we really are. That's a lot of trust. Few people know about our relationships, and it must remain that way, but you're different."

Diana leaned back into her comfortable seat, maintaining eye contact with Cramer, who had yet to say anything. "We, my sister-wives and I, have discussed you recently, then you called. Our husband is different from any man that you have come in contact with. Of this, I'm positive. Tonight, we're asking you to be with us and share a little of our lives. Tomorrow, we have to go into Denver to see about buying another farm, then we're going to do a little shopping, and also pick up another computer for someone that is going to join in our school. Since you have told us that you have a week off, we would like for you to be with us a couple of days until you make your decision."

"Decision?" Cramer managed to get out, looking around at all the women smiling at her.

"Yeah," Diana said. "I think you already know what the question is. If you're not positive yet, you will be. Just let your heart lead you..."

There was a snicker from one of the girls.

Diana grinned, "Well, your heart and other things," she laughed. "Alpha Males tend to get your full attention."

Cramer glanced at the big bed again, her imagination going into overdrive. Her face flushed again as she glanced around at the beautiful women and girls sprawled out on the bed, all obviously braless. Although she tried not to, her mind charged right into a fantasy of Jeff with his women.

The room was quiet as her thoughts turned to Jeff's daughter. As their eyes locked, Arlene slow-winked at her. His daughter. Cramer thought, a strange tingle going through her body. Remember to breathe, you idiot,  she admonished herself as the world threatened to gray out around her. They're giving me a chance to be one of them. A part of a harem.

She had read of this king of some small nation taking another wife recently. Something like number twenty, or thereabouts. She had just laughed to herself when she read the article on the news, but there had been times when she had fantasized when she used her vibrator. But that was fantasy. This was..."

"We're going to get things started for the cookout," Arlene said as the girls stood. "We'll see you in a few minutes," she said to Joyce.

Absently nodding, Cramer watched the girls flounce out of the room, laughing and teasing each other. She vaguely wondered when they had communicated about the cookout. She must have missed it.

Laura and Diana put several bikinis on the bed. "Take your pick," Laura said, fighting not to grin, wondering if Cramer had balls enough to wear one of the tiny suits, hoping she wasn't going to faint after being hit with the realization about the harem.

Cramer looked at the suits arrayed in front of her. They ranged from very modest — for a bikini — to almost imaginary. She was just about certain that the pink one wouldn't cover her nipples, let alone anything else.

Diana strolled in wearing a yellow bikini that left little to the imagination, but did cover the most interesting parts — barely.

"There will be one other guy there," Diana said, "Dave. But he isn't a problem. So, don't let that influence your decision."

Cramer glanced again at Diana, trying not to stare at her high, full breasts. My goodness, I knew she was beautiful, but that is the most perfect body I have ever seen. She tore her eyes away, but was almost certain that the women knew what she had been thinking. I thought I had a good body, but she looks so — exotic. How do her breasts stand out like that? But they surely don't look like silicone. Can they actually be real?

"I think this one will go well with your coloring," Helen said handing her one of the tiny suits, but not the tiniest. "Why don't you go into the bathroom and put it on?"

Cramer took the suit and looked at it. There isn't enough cloth here to make a decent handkerchief, as they say. And I'm expected to parade around in front of Jeff. Then again, I guess this is some kind of tryout for his harem. I should be pissed that they would even ask me. Instead, I'm about to soak my panties. Surely I'm dreaming.

Amazing herself, she got up and went into the bathroom. Quickly taking her clothes off and putting them on the counter, she tied the bottom of the bikini on, adjusting the little triangle in front. Well, at least I don't have much hair down there, and keep what little I do have trimmed.

Putting the top on, she looked in the mirror. Shit! I look more naked in this than I do without having a stitch on. No way am I going to wear this in front of Jeff, let alone Dave.

Diana stepped into the room. "Beautiful," she said. "I knew you were the one. Jeff will have to sit with his legs crossed all night," she finished with a tiny giggle that went with her teenage looks.

It dawned on Cramer just how young Diana did look. How does she do that? Is she Arlene's stepmother or something?

Diana grabbed her hand. "Come on, the girls will have everything ready to go by the time we get to the pool. And Jeff won't be able to talk when he sees you."

When Joyce got back to the bedroom, Helen and Laura were now wearing their bikinis. "Talk, heck," Joyce said, looking around her at the women. "With you guys around, he won't even see me."

Diana handed Cramer a new swim cap, then as they started out the door, she held Cramer back for a second. "Don't sell yourself short. And remember, he's the most wonderful guy on Earth. And like I said, he's an Alpha Male. If he kisses you, just go with it. You aren't going to make anyone mad. If we didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here. Relax and have a good time. We have a beautiful suite for you tonight. Tomorrow we'll get some business done, and do a little shopping. Our Alpha is bashful sometimes, but he's always full of surprises, too. He keeps us on our toes. Go with the flow, as they say."

Alpha Male? Cramer thought as they began the long walk to the pool. Crap. Half the stuff they're talking about makes me want to just laugh at them, get in my car and leave. But I felt it when he touched me. Now I'm walking down this hallway in a bikini smaller than any I've ever owned. I must be losing my mind to do this. Harem? Well, obviously from the bed and the vanity area, they all sleep together. Heck, he has a urinal in the bathroom, so it's not just the women in that bedroom. Oh, well, I've had a great time today. Eating with them and going for a swim in a rich man's pool won't hurt anything. It might be the only chance I get to rub elbows with money. And they seem so casual about everything.

"There you are," Jeff said, loudly as they opened the door to the pool area. "The girls and Evie are ready to put the food on the table."

Diana, Helen and Laura quickly helped with the food, but as Joyce tried to help, Jeff waylaid her. "You remember Dave and Evie from when you ate breakfast with us, don't you?"

Evie gave Joyce a quick hug. "Glad to see you again," she said, with an amused look on her face.

Dave shook hands with Cramer, while forbidding his eyes to drift southward. After exchanging pleasantries, he went to talk with Jeff, while the women drew Joyce into their activities.

The burger supper came and went with Cramer allowed to help, which made her feel more like part of the group. Again marveling at the group effort, this time directed at the little cleanup that was needed, she thought, I still can't believe that they don't have servants — at least a cook and someone to clean up after meals. And I can see the effort they're making to make me feel comfortable. Not to say anything about letting me use their range and their ammunition — and their swimsuit. I can't believe I'm parading around in a bikini, but then again everyone else is, also. And the guys have on Speedos that don't cover a lot more. Surely that bulge in Jeff's suit can't be real, and Dave isn't far behind him. Then again, Jeff has seven wives; he would have to have something.

Realizing that her eyes had locked on Jeff's crotch like some teenager, as he walked by, she fought to not blush. She looked toward the pool. I know that he saw me looking. If I look him in the eye now..."

Suddenly, she felt his hand clamp down on hers and the feeling hit her again. Laughing, he ran to the pool dragging her, despite her protests, and dived in still holding her hand. As they surfaced, he spun away from her, stroking hard for the other side. The water was suddenly alive with girls and women diving in. Someone threw the ball in and a game was underway.

Part of her mind intently watching the ball, another part wondering why she kept getting smacked with this odd feeling every time he touched her, she didn't notice Jeff swim up. The first she knew he was there was when his hand descended on her head and she was suddenly under water, barely having time to hold a partial breath. She turned, and seeing his Speedo clad body, almost reached out to jerk down his trunks, but thought better of it.

Instead, she swam around him and approached from his back. Okay, Big Boy, if you want to play, this isn't my first time in the water.

Coming out of the water as hard as she could, she grabbed his shoulder and the top of his head intending to push him backward and under. Too late, she realized that this was the beginning of the shallow area and he was standing on the bottom. Grabbing his shoulder felt like grabbing a muscular chunk of steel. She felt the muscles ripple, then a hand tucked under her belly while the other hand slid under her bottom.

Instant missile a long distance toward the deep end. She plowed into the water head first, feeling the bikini top go. When she regained control of her forward motion, she dove and turned back toward Jeff, frantically looking for her top. Just as she saw it, she also saw Jeff's hand catch it. As she surfaced, he was there, handing her the top and turning his back, although remaining close to shield her while she got the top back on.

But there was a problem. Tying the top on while in deep water wasn't easy. They weren't far from the side, and he nodded his head in that direction. He took her arm and helped her to the side while she held the top to her breasts. In seconds, he had tied the strings behind her back and neck.

"Sorry," he said as she turned to him. "I was having a good time and didn't think about what would happen to the bikini when I threw you. I..."

"Well, did you like what you saw?" she asked, fighting to not giggle like a teenager.

"Uh..." he said, then blushed.

Oh, my gosh. He blushed. A grown man, with seven wives, blushed. Well, he darn sure got an eyeful. My nipples have been rock-hard ever since he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the pool. He's got to know.

She realized that she was touching him when she felt the shock again. Her hand slipped from the side and she almost went under before she caught herself. His face was only inches from her as they both had a hand on the side of the pool facing each other. She saw him look at her mouth. Somehow, it was hard to breathe. His eyes seem to be nearing her, then his mouth took possession of hers, first with a touch so light that she could hardly realize that he was kissing her, then the pressure increased a little, his mouth opening slightly...

After a moment, the tip of his tongue traced her lips. The feeling of almost-shock intensified. Her world became this hunk of manhood that encircled her with his free arm pulling her to him. Some small part of her knew that she should resist, that he was kissing her in front of all these people — his wives. But her body seemed to have no strength. She slumped against him as his arm supported her in the water, then her arms were around his neck, her body trembling, a quiet moan building somewhere within her.

She felt him against her. Surely it couldn't be that long, but something primal in her thought his cock was real all right, and responded with a vengeance. Time drifted. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, touched her tongue tip. Her vagina seemed to try to clamp down — fluttered. It became hard to breathe. Her whole body shivered and ... the orgasm hit — it seemed to go on forever. The world went black.

-------

"Hold her, Jeff. Let her wake up in your arms," she heard as if from a great distance.

Shivering, she did just that, the side of her face against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat — a very slow, powerful beat. "Boy, with you around, there's no need for romance novels," she quietly said, then followed it with an equally quiet giggle, pressing her face to his chest.

Chuckling, Diana helped her sit up where she had been stretched out in Jeff's arms on one of the lounges. "Congratulations, you've just met our Alpha Male," his first wife said. "And we know exactly what you mean."

But Jeff just looked confused at their comments. "Are you okay?" he quietly asked. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I just felt drawn to kiss you and couldn't seem to stop."

"Did everybody see that? I'm so embarrassed," she whispered, feeling like an idiot.

"Dave and Evie are at their apartment," Diana said, misleading her into thinking they hadn't seen what happened. "We're the only ones here."

Diana took Joyce's hand. "We told you our situation and had you meet our Alpha, so there's no need to be embarrassed. Also," she added, squeezing Joyce's hand again, "this is as far as it goes for now. We would never push you into anything, and Jeff certainly wouldn't."

As they stood, Jeff leaned over and brushed his lips to hers. "I really enjoyed that, and I apologize if I've embarrassed you."

As he pulled back from her, Joyce could not help but smile up at him. "I acted like a school girl," she said, feeling the blush start.

Jeff leaned down and touched his lips briefly to hers again. "You most certainly did not. Besides, four of my wives are girls, and I like the way they act."

Before she could respond, Diana and Arlene were on either side of her wrapping a towel around her dripping hair, ushering her out the door and down the hall. "That was no 'school girl' type reaction. When our husband makes love, that happens. We told him to show you what he could do," Diana said.

Arlene, already with her arm around Joyce, squeezed her shoulder. "And that was with his trunks on," she giggled.

In the bedroom a few minutes later, Joyce tried not the stare at the bed, but Arlene saw her, nonetheless. "Yeah," she said, grinning, "he can. With no problem at all — all of us."

Joyce mumbled something, not even sure what she had managed, but feeling sure she sounded more like an idiot every moment.

Rescuing her, Diana said, "Come on, the shower is big enough for all of us. Let's get the chlorine off, and since you forgot to put your cap on, you need to do your hair, too, of course."

Joyce started to tell her that she hadn't forgotten the cap, that Jeff had grabbed her and headed for the pool before she had a chance to put it on, but then, she saw the teasing look on Diana's face. Laughing, Joyce said, "Yeah, since I forgot, I guess I do need to get the chlorine out of my hair, too."

Soon they were all in the big shower. I can't believe I'm doing this. I hardly know these people. But I feel comfortable around them — more than comfortable, somehow.

Almost before she knew what was going to happen, Ann and Arlene were shampooing her long hair for her. No one had done that other than Caitlin.

"Lean forward so we can rinse," Ann said.

As Joyce complied, Jennie said, "Our husband likes variety. Some of us have bare pussies, and others have theirs trimmed in various ways. Yours looks really nice with just that little 'V' left above it. Jeff will like it," she said, matter-of-factly.

Joyce's first thought was to hotly deny that he would ever see it, well the part that the little bikini had covered, but even as the words rose to her mouth, she stopped. Looking around her at the girls and women, she again realized that they fully expected her to sleep with their husband — probably when Jeff decided it was time. She should be insulted, should have stomped out of here long before now, but something just felt — right.

Who the heck is this guy that he has all these women — all these gorgeous women — that apparently think he's God's gift to our sex? But even as the thought crossed her mind, she remembered how it felt in his arms when she woke up, how it felt when he held her and kissed her. Then she thought ... Startling everyone there, herself included, she began to cry. And just as suddenly, she was wrapped in Diana's arms.

"We've pushed too quickly," Diana said. "We apologize. We didn't mean to hurt you. We just thought you were the one and wanted you to feel what we do. Jeff is really going to be pissed at us. He said we were going too fast."

Jennie and Melissa towel dried her hair, then wrapped it in a dry towel as she managed to dry herself, then wrap a big fluffy towel around herself. A few moments later, she was sitting on the bed surrounded by Jeff's wives, a glass of wine in her hand.

As Diana and the rest kept trying to apologize, she finally had her wits about her enough to stop them. "Please. You haven't done anything wrong. I wasn't crying because of Jeff kissing me. The full extent of what you're offering just really dawned on me. As Arlene and Ann were washing my hair, I swear that I could feel the love as we stood in that beautiful shower. I guess it brought back memories. Well, no 'guess' to it. It did."

Taking a sip of the wine, she glanced down at the glass, then back up at Diana. "Oh, my. That's good. What is it?"

Diana, chagrined, leaned over and picked up the bottle. As she looked at the label, it struck Joyce as funny. "You don't know. This wonderful wine, and you don't know," she laughed.

Diana and the others saw the humor. "Yeah, you caught us. We know next to nothing about wine. It came from Frank Wainwright's cellar. We usually just look it up on the net and pick some of the 'cheaper' of the labels. Since we don't have a wine palate, it's a shame to waste the really expensive stuff on us. The girls got a couple of bottles out because you said something that led us to believe that you drank some on occasion," she finished.

"So, do you know how much this costs?" Joyce teased.

"Yeah," Ann said, "It's a little over a two hundred dollars a bottle according to the net."

"And this is his cheap stuff?" Joyce asked, her voice changing.

"Yeah, well, he isn't exactly a pauper," Jennie and Melissa said in sync, joining in the conversation.

Joyce looked at them strangely, wondering.

"So, you're saying that Jeff kissing you and the things we've said wasn't what made you sad?" Diana asked.

Joyce took a breath and looked down at the nearly-full glass of wine. Taking another sip, she placed the glass on the bedside table. "If I'm going to be ... well. I guess I should tell you something about me. You might not be interested in me any longer when I tell you, but ... Oh, this is all strange, but I guess I want to tell."

Helen, who was sitting near the bed, took Joyce's hand. "If you want to tell us, then we want to hear. But we chose you because of the way we ... feel about you. You don't have to tell us anything that causes you distress."

Joyce slid back to the head of the bed. Jennie handed her a pillow to put behind her back. Smiling and saying a quiet thanks, she looked around her. I can't imagine what's happened. Looking at them, I feel like I've known them forever, and that's ridiculous, but the feeling is there. How can I feel this way? How could I feel that way when Jeff kissed me?

Her eyes filled again, but she refused to cry. In a voice so quiet that everyone stopped moving, even in the slightest, so that they could hear, she said, "I had a friend all through school — well from the sixth grade on. She was always there when I needed her, and we grew up together. We didn't exactly live in the country, but it was well past the suburbs. Her house was only a quarter mile away from mine.

"I don't even remember my dad. Mom said he took off when I was two. There was a succession of 'uncles' that came and went. Mom had a little inheritance that we lived on, and she occasionally picked up some work, usually as a clerk somewhere. We weren't destitute, but we didn't have a lot either. Of course, if she hadn't drunk up so much of it, we would have had more.

"By the time I was fourteen, I was spending an awful lot of time at Caitlin's house. Several of my 'uncles' had felt me up, and one shoved his hand down my pants when Mom was passed out, so as much as possible, I stayed out of the house when they were there."

Looking around her, she picked up her glass and took a sip, not as sure that she could tell her story as she had been a moment ago.

Diana leaned over and squeezed her hand. "We're not going to judge you, if that's what's bothering you. Once you hear my story you'll know that I don't have any room to talk."

"Diana, don't even start trying to blame yourself, again," Helen said, touching Diana's shoulder. Then turning to Joyce she said, a beautiful smile on her face, "Maybe you need a few bigger sips of that wine. And remember, we're on your side, plus you don't have to tell us anything that you don't want to."

Joyce took two swallows of the wine, then put the glass back on the table. "It's more than just worry about how you people will feel about what I'm trying to say. You see, I fell in love."

Sighing, Joyce looked around her. "Caitlin's mother had left with someone she had met at work. My friend's father hadn't suspected a thing until he got home from work one day to find Caitlin crying her eyes out and all his wife's stuff gone. She had stopped by with her boyfriend, threw all her stuff in a U-Haul truck, leaving a short note. They were just pulling out of the driveway as Caitlin got home from school. Her mother told her what was going on, waved goodbye, and was gone.

"By the time Caitlin's dad got home, we had cried ourselves sick. Then we had to tell him. He was a basket case. He sat at the table reading the note over and over, big tears pouring down his cheeks.

"After that, I guess he tried to be both Mom and Dad to Caitlin, and almost as much to me. He took us to ball games, movies, well everything fifteen-year-olds go to. I guess he let us abuse him that way to try and make up for Caitlin's mother leaving. But I think he enjoyed being with us, even then."

Joyce drained the last of her wine and put the glass back on the table. Taking a breath, she looked at Diana and continued. "I guess you were wondering why I wasn't upset when it became obvious that Arlene was one of your husband's lovers — wives."

At Diana's faint nod, Joyce looked back at her empty wine glass and continued. "One day when we were just past our sixteenth birthday — our birthdays are only a couple of weeks apart — we were out of school for the day. Teachers' meeting or some such. Anyway, Caitlin and I were going to be together as always, and her dad was going to take a vacation day to carry us to the zoo, then do some shopping. But my mom threw a fit and said I couldn't go.

"I called Caitlin and told her that morning. Her father came on the line, and said that we would just go some other time. Well, anyway, Mom got to drinking and passed out about ten o'clock. Disgusted with her, I went over to Caitlin's and just walked in the back door into the kitchen. I had a key to the house, and never knocked. It seemed more like home than mine did. It never occurred to me to knock, ever."

Reaching for her empty glass again, and finding it somehow refilled, she took a sip, put the glass back and glanced at Arlene. "Caitlin and her dad, Ben, were standing in the kitchen. She only had on panties. He was pulling on her nipple. She was holding his dick, slowly sliding her hand back and forth, and they were passionately kissing.

"I should have been appalled, but I guess I was mostly just jealous. I made some kind of noise, spun around and was headed out the door when Caitlin grabbed my hand, and she wouldn't let go."

"'I love him, and he loves me, Joyce. Please don't leave like this, ' she told me with tears pouring down her face.

"I just blurted out that I loved him, too."

"Caitlin looked at me, and said, 'so what's the problem? I know that Daddy loves you, too.' A couple of hours later, I gave my virginity — something I had been dreaming of doing for a year — to Ben. And don't even think that he took advantage of us. Oh, it might not have happened if his wife hadn't left so abruptly, but father and daughter had kept trying to console each other until they went from love to being in love. And I loved him every bit as much as Caitlin did."

"Did?" Arlene whispered.

"Yeah," Joyce said, the tears rolling out of her eyes in earnest now, "He died a little over two years ago. He was a lot older than his wife. One day, he had a heart attack at work. He lived for three days. We got to tell him goodbye in the hospital. His heart was destroyed by the attack..."

The deputy leaned forward on the bed, putting her face in her hands, sobbing. Arlene and Diana beat the others to the hug. Helen pushed another handful of tissues into Cramer's hand. By then, all of them had tears of empathy in their eyes as they tried to console Joyce.

After a while and several gulps of wine, Joyce was able to sit up. "I'm sorry..." she started, but was quickly cut off by the others.

"Nonsense," Diana said. "You have every reason to cry. And we are all so sorry."

Joyce started to speak, but her voice broke. Clearing her throat she tried again, "I had just gotten out of rookie school. (Police Academy) He got to see me in my uniform before his heart attack, though. But somehow, the job didn't mean as much to me after he died. Oh, the department was good to me. A whole bunch of people showed up at the funeral, and the flower arrangements that they sent were fabulous. But I never told any of them about the true connection between us. I just told them that he had been a father to me. I hated keeping it a secret, and Caitlin did, too. But it had to be. No one would have understood."

Joyce looked around her, "Then when I realized that all of you were Jeff's wives, and that Arlene was included — I don't know — it just made me feel closer to all of you, somehow."

Arlene hugged her hard for a long time.



-------

Chapter 54

STILL MONDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 16

In their suite, Jeff's wives listened to Joyce tell about Caitlin's father as Joyce leaned back against a pillow at the head of the big bed.

"The house is in Caitlin's name now. It's about five miles this side of Idaho Springs, uh, this side of Denver. She finished her nursing degree at the same time I finished my criminal justice degree. We've been living in the house she inherited from her father and just share expenses on everything."

Biting her lower lip, she looked around her. "Uh, this would never work with Jeff — although, I'm flattered more than you can imagine. You see, Caitlin and I..."

" ... love each other," Diana broke in. "And with Ben gone, you continued your relationship, together."

"Yeah. That's about it," she sighed. "But we're not lesbians ... I guess you could call us bisexual, but somehow I don't feel like I am. I mean, we ... did things when Ben was there, then after ... it just happened one day when we had been crying, and we still do it. We talk about him all the time."

Taking another sip of wine, she said, "Thank you for the wine, but I almost feel guilty for drinking it, since it's so expensive, but it helps with..." Shrugging, she started again, "Caitlin dated a couple of different guys since then, but she said she about freaked out when they put their hands on her breasts. It just didn't seem right. It was like she was cheating on Ben.

"Jeff is the first guy that has kissed me since Ben died. I can't believe that I let him do that, let alone..." She sighed, then almost giggled, " ... had a tremendous orgasm and fainted from it."

There was quiet laughter from the wives. "He does that to all of us almost every night," Ann interjected.

"When he thinks we've had enough, he does something. We have this tremendous orgasm that just goes on and on until we pass out," Melissa said, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling.

Diana sat frowning. "So you're saying that you can't join us? Or are you saying it's a twofer?"

"A twofer?" Joyce started, then "Oh, yeah. I guess that's what I mean. I mean I can't leave Caitlin. We just can't be separated. We promised each other. So I guess I need to leave. I mean, I really did like what Jeff did to me, and I feel so close to all of you for some reason, but I think it would be best..."

Jeff walked into the bedroom, obviously having been listening. "No," he said, then again, "No. Please forgive me for eavesdropping, but I started to walk in just as you were telling where you and Caitlin lived. I didn't want to interrupt, so I just waited. I have, uh ... excellent hearing," he again understated, "and I couldn't help but hear what you said."

Sitting on the side of the bed near Joyce, he took her hand. "As I've told my women, this thing, whatever it is, goes both ways. Whatever I am — and I may just be a man who cares — women sometimes seem very strongly attracted to me in a short period of time. Diana says it's pheromones and something else. Whatever. It works both ways. Let's just start at the point that you aren't going to just up and leave — and go from there."

Leaning over to a startled Joyce, he kissed her for a few seconds. Pulling back, he said, "Now tell me what I've missed in this conversation."

-------

"So like Diana said, we have a twofer," Jeff said, grinning at Joyce.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation..." she started.

"Kiss her again, Jeff," Diana said. "Really kiss her. She needs a refresher. This is a lot for anyone to accept that hasn't been around you."

Joyce had, at first, thought that Diana was kidding, but Jeff knew she wasn't. Taking Cramer into his arms, even as she blushed and tried to say something, he kissed her. A full minute later, he pulled slowly back as Joyce absently touched her lips with her fingertips.

"If you leave now, Joyce, you'll be miserable before you even get home. And it will get worse. He's an Alpha Male, and even more than that, I think he's a Prime. What does Caitlin look like?"

Amazing everyone there, Jeff didn't even blink.

"Well, uh, she's a lot prettier than I am," Joyce started.

"Seen through the eyes of love," Helen inserted. "Do you have a picture with you?"

"What she looks like doesn't make any difference," Jeff interjected. "Joyce can't abandon someone she loves."

The women looked at him as if he were mentally challenged. "We know that Diana said. But we want to see what our future sister-wife looks like."

"But she might not even like me," Jeff tried to get out.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Melissa said.

"You could always unzip your pants," Jennie said. "She would follow you home, then."

"Jennie, that's not..."

"Oh, Daddeee," Arlene dragged out the word. "We're just teasing, and you know it."

"We'll let Joyce explain everything to her, then you can sit beside her. By the time she inhales those pheromones for a few minutes, she'll be ready to kiss you. Later, you can turn on whatever it is that you do, and kiss her. She'll be ready to come up and stay a day or two with us by then. She'll never want to leave after that," Diana reasoned aloud.

"But I don't know whether she'll go for ... well, you know. We never thought about anyone having so many wives. With Ben, it was ... different." Joyce looked around at the bed, then at all the women smiling at her. "How could you want me? I mean, there are already seven of you."

Helen leaned back in her chair near the bed and crossed her legs, swinging one leg back and forth. "You're comparing Jeff to a normal male. And ... well, you also said that Ben wasn't young. And there is something going on between us as wives. There is absolutely no jealously between us. So many women to get along this well, is straining probability. We think that this may be caused by our Alpha Male, but I also suspect that our Alpha Female — our Queen Bitch — has something to do with it."

Helen took a sip of her wine, thought for a moment, then continued, "My introduction to the family was quite different..."

-------

" ... But I really would like to stay tonight, but I just can't."

"But why? I know that you and Caitlin are close, but..." Diana began.

"She's a nurse, as I said, and works six straight twelve-hour days, then she's off for a week. We haven't been apart for a night since ... well since it happened, other than when I work an extra shift, or she does. I can't just call her and tell her I'm going to spend time with ... people that she never even heard of. Well, that's not exactly right. I did tell her about coming up here to thank you for the vests. I can't just say, uh, that I got invited to..."

" ... join a harem," Arlene supplied, giggling.

Before Joyce could say anything else, Diana spoke up. "Call her and tell her to come up here. Don't take no for an answer. We could go down to Winter Park and meet her there. Then let her follow us back, or leave her car there. We could pick it up tomorrow when we come back from Denver. Since it's going to be a twofer anyway, we might as well meet her as soon as possible. Well, more importantly, Jeff needs to 'meet' her."

Warming to the subject, Diana continued, "Yeah, we can meet her in Winter Park, have a nice meal in the secluded room where we met you, Helen," she said looking at her sister-wife. "That would be neat. That will be three wives that Jeff got in association with that one room."

"But, Caitlin is still in love with Ben. I mean..."

"And so are you," Laura broke in. "So what? Once our Alpha turns on the charm, his pheromones, and whatever else he does, she will be tickled to come back with us."

"Uh, there is just one teeny little problem with that," Diana mused. "Just how many waitresses are we going to bring home with us, too?"

"Uh, yeah, there is that, " Ann laughed.

"That's easy," Laura interjected. "Once our meal has been delivered, we'll tell them that we are going to have a conference and don't want to be disturbed. We'll make sure they leave the drinks with us, and we'll tell them that we will serve ourselves for refills. With the tips that we've left, not to say anything about how much money we've spent on food there, they should be glad to go along with whatever we want. Then our husband can turn on the pheromones to dazzle her."

"I can't believe that I'm setting up my best ... friend in the world," Joyce said, a frown upon her pretty face.

"Would you rather just forget Jeff and drive away tonight?" Diana asked, knowing the answer.

"But I just..."

"Shall we call him back for a booster?" Helen asked, a smile playing about her lips.

"Trust us. You don't want to even think about leaving our husband," Jennie and Melissa said.

Diana picked up the phone and dialed the living room. "Need you back here a moment," she said when Jeff picked up.

-------

As Jeff walked out of the bedroom, Diana handed the dazed Joyce the phone. "Remember, kissing and a little more is as far as it is going for the time being. You will decide when the major step is to be. But we all know that you have gone too far to be without him now, so let's get Caitlin on the phone and get her started toward Winter Park."

Seeing the look on Joyce's face, and knowing that Joyce's panties were probably soaked after the long kiss, Arlene said, "We've got plenty of new panties your size. And there's no reason to be embarrassed. If he had kissed me the way he just did you, he would never have gotten out of here before he made love to me." Then laughing, she said, "Screw that ... before he had fucked my brains out, is what I really meant to say."

Noticing Jennie and Melissa oh so casually walking toward the door, Diana said, laughter in her voice, "Oh, no you don't. I want our Alpha Male to be full of pheromones, and, uh, other things when we get to that restaurant. If you two get in that living room with him as revved up as he has gotten all of us while he was kissing Joyce, we'll never get to the restaurant on time."

Busted, the girls grinned at her and sat back on the bed.

-------

Having just gotten home bushed from work after the sixth twelve-hour shift in a row, Caitlin wasn't very enthusiastic when Joyce told her of the invitation to dinner and to stay the night at some retreat on a mountain. But Joyce wouldn't back down, and rather than make her mad, Caitlin agreed to meet them in Winter Park and bring an overnight bag for each of them.

Since it was a Monday night, the conference room was free at the nice restaurant. In the parking lot, they waited about ten minutes for Caitlin to show. As she pulled into the lot, Jeff got a glimpse of her. When she parked and got out, he knew that she was wife material as far as looks were concerned. He already knew that she was Joyce's age, and Joyce had told him that she was a redhead, but that was an understatement. She had fiery red hair, cut short, and although he didn't notice them in the poor light, later, he discovered that she had just a sprinkling of freckles.

Wearing a tight top that accentuated her medium-sized breasts and slim figure, she stepped confidently out of her car and met the group as they stood talking while waiting for her.

Amazing both Jeff and Diana, utilizing her training for remembering names, Cramer took over the introductions and got everyone's name right without the slightest hesitation. Introducing Jeff last, she stepped aside as Jeff put out his hand, then grasped Caitlin's hand with both of his as he moved a little closer than usual.

Joyce grinned as she saw her friend and lover start, knowing that she had probably felt the same thing she had when Jeff first touched her, and every time after.

After a brief chat in the lot, everyone started inside. Caitlin held back and whispered in her friend's ear, "What's going on? Why are we doing this? Who is that guy?"

Joyce grinned at her, "He might just be your future husband," she said, knowing that Caitlin would think she was kidding.

"Yeah, right," Caitlin whispered. "Which one is his wife? The older one?"

"Nope. It's all of them," she said, winking.

"Wha..." Caitlin started, but Joyce interrupted.

"Come on. We'll talk later," she said, nudging Caitlin to quickly take the few steps to catch up with the group.

After everyone had ordered and the food arrived, Diana met the two waitresses in the hallway. Shortly the bar at the end of the room was lined with their drink refills and two large insulated coffee carafes. The waitresses assured them that their meeting would not be disturbed, anxious to please the family that left such large tips and was always respectful to everyone at the restaurant.

Diana had seated Caitlin on the side next to Jeff, who was at the head of the table. Joyce sat next to her, with Diana directly across from Caitlin and also next to her husband. The meal wasn't rushed to say the least. Caitlin could hardly eat for answering questions, mainly by the girls, who turned on the charm, teasing everyone and causing Caitlin more amusement than she could remember in a long time.

About halfway through the meal, Caitlin realized that she was very attracted to the tall, good-looking man sitting so near, but he hardly paid her any attention. He was polite, but spent most of his time talking to the other women and girls, tossing good-natured jibes back and forth with his daughter and the younger women. When once he said something to Caitlin and locked eyes with her, she could barely look away.

Somewhere along the line, she realized that the young woman with the regal bearing sitting across from her was his wife. Must be a second wife. She couldn't be Arlene's mother,  she thought.

Casting covert glances at Jeff, Oh, my, he's sexy,  she told herself. And ... he's married,  she added the admonishment as he suddenly turned his focus on her, asking her intelligent questions about nursing, and occasionally touching her hand. She realized that she had stopped eating and was staring at him. Quickly, she picked up her fork and tried to concentrate. What the heck is the matter with me? she thought, then admonished herself again that he was married. She didn't flirt with married men. Then again, she didn't flirt with any men since...

By the time the meal was over, Caitlin found herself agreeing that she and Joyce would spend the night with the Matthews. A little worried about leaving her car in the parking lot when Diana suggested it, Caitlin told Jeff that she would just follow them to the retreat.

"Trust me," Diana interjected as they were walking down the hallway after Jeff had settled the bill. "You don't want to drive up that driveway in the dark on your first trip. I don't want to do that to anyone. Helen still gripes about her first trip," she said, winking at her sister-wife.

"I'll speak to the manager about leaving your car," Jeff said, turning back toward the desk to do so.

They waited outside near one of the SUVs. When Jeff came out, he called to Caitlin, motioning toward a parking place close to the front door. When she moved her car and locked it, getting out with two overnight bags that Jeff quickly took, he said, "The manager says that he frequently stays late working on the books and his car has never been bothered, but he is going to call the police department for a patrol request. He says that he gives the cops a break on meals and they will gladly check on your car throughout the night."

Noticing the frown, Jeff said, "If you're not positive, I'll be glad to drive your car, or some of us can ride with you, but that driveway..."

"No, that's okay," she quickly said. "I don't particularly like heights and Helen's description of her first drive up in the darkness convinced me. It's not the newest car in the world," she kidded, "but it's almost paid for."

Jeff took her hand, "The cops will take care of your car, and should anything happen, well..."

Caitlin was never sure what he had said, because everything became a blur after he took her hand, leaned over and brushed his lips across her forehead. "Come on, you and Joyce can ride with me."

Caitlin wound up in the front passenger seat with Joyce sitting directly behind Jeff, and the girls riding with them, also.

As they pulled out of the lot, Joyce leaned over and spoke to Jeff. "Stop by the police department and let me run inside for a moment. I know all the guys there. I'll make sure that they check on Caitlin's car."

Later as they started up the drive and encountered the first of the switchbacks, Jeff could see Caitlin tense. "Just keep your eyes on the road or the inside of the drive. You can walk down to the top of the drive in the daylight tomorrow and check out the abyss, as we call it. It won't be as intimidating then."

Caitlin wasn't sure about that, but she surely wasn't going to look into that emptiness any more right now. As she saw the lights of the retreat and began to realize its immense dimensions, she turned to Jeff, the abyss temporarily forgotten. "That's your house?"

"Well, we call it home. But it isn't exactly a house. Frank Wainwright originally built it for a conference center and a retreat. Well, I guess, also for a training center, sometimes. He and Margaret fell in love with it and the area, but it didn't work very well for them in the winter. The logistics of getting his people from Denver or Boulder up here in the winter was a little more than he anticipated. When I sold my patent to his company, he used the retreat as part of the payment, intending to build something closer to Saint Louis for his people."

They hit the steep part and Caitlin held her breath for a moment. Jeff smiled at her and continued, "We first expected to vacation here for a while, and I had even asked to lease it for a year as part of the agreement, but when it became ours, we thought we would check it out for a while. Somewhere in there it just became home. We really can't think of living anywhere else, now. Of course, after a winter on this mountain, we could change our minds, but I don't think so."

As they passed the front of the retreat, Caitlin tore her eyes away long enough to look back at Joyce, who grinned at her.

As they parked in the back, Caitlin got out, stood beside her door gazing at the building. "It's beautiful," she whispered.

"I told you," Joyce said. "Remember what I said after Goodman and I came up here?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Wait until you see their living room," Joyce said, grabbing Caitlin's hand. "You could put our whole house in it. And I'm not exaggerating, much."

Inside, the girls hugged both Caitlin and Joyce. "We've got a school project that we need to check on. We'll see you two a little later," Arlene said, then she and the other girls headed for their classroom.

"We have our own school," Diana said. "Doctor Boswell, if you remember from the introduction, is our teacher. Our eminently qualified teacher," she added.

"Let's not overdo it," Helen laughed.

Caitlin did remember, but she was becoming increasingly more confused. Jeff seemed to treat all the women and girls equally, and Diana couldn't possibly be Arlene's mother, although the resemblance was, indeed, striking. No way could coincidence be pushed far enough for a step-mom to look that much like a stepdaughter. But she can't be old enough to be Arlene's real mother. And neither could Laura. Wait a minute; Ann is supposed to be Laura's daughter. That can't be, either.

Seeing the discreet glances as Caitlin wondered about things, Diana turned to her husband just before they reached the kitchen. "Why don't you make us some coffee while we show Joyce and Caitlin to their suite? We'll save the tour for tomorrow. We'll be back in a few minutes."

Jeff leaned over and kissed Diana lightly on the lips, "Your wish is my command," he said, grinning, then turned off at the kitchen as they continued past.

Diana, Laura and Helen, with their two guests, continued down the hallway. Turning into the first single suite on the left, Diana continued on through the sitting room into the bedroom. "I assume that this single suite will be more to your liking, but if you had rather..."

Joyce put her bag down. "They know," she told Caitlin, whose embarrassment was already beginning to show.

"Don't even think about it," Laura spoke up. "No one in this house will even blink."

"But we're not lesbians," Caitlin started, putting her bag down as well.

"Oh, they know that, too," Joyce said, hugging her. "I've told them about Ben."

Caitlin stared at Joyce. "I can't believe you did that. We've never told anyone."

Helen reached over and took Caitlin's hand. "It's not the way you think. Please, let's just sit and talk. We have a lot to tell you about us. Then we'll tell you why you were invited here tonight."

Not particularly pleased with the Matthews, or Joyce, Caitlin, nevertheless, allowed them to usher her to the sitting room. Shrugging, she sat on the couch between Joyce and Diana.

They talked for thirty minutes. Finally, Caitlin sat shaking her head, her questions starting to come before each one was fully answered.

Diana picked up the phone and talked quietly for a few seconds. Putting it back in its charger, she turned to Caitlin. "I don't blame you. I probably wouldn't believe it either. Although, you have definitely gotten the abbreviated version." She grinned at Joyce. "Time for show and tell."

"Show and tell, what?" Caitlin got out before Joyce could say anything.

The conversation went on for a few minutes with everyone sidestepping Caitlin's question.

The wives turned in unison to look at the door. A couple of seconds later, it opened and Jeff pushed a serving cart through loaded with coffee, a cooler of assorted soft drinks, and a platter of sweet rolls that he had warmed in the microwave.

"Well, at least you have him well trained," Caitlin quipped.

As soon as who wanted what to drink was sorted out, Jeff put a roll on a plate and offered it to Caitlin. "Milady," he teased, grinning.

Caitlin was about to snap back at him for having the audacity to bring her up here to ask her to be part of a harem when their hands touched. Jeff's reflexes saved the plate and roll intact before they struck the floor.

He held onto her hand as he handed the plate back. "I'm not an ogre, and these women haven't lied to you, although they have probably exaggerated a few things about me," he finished, grinning.

Diana had already felt her nipples pop, so she knew that Caitlin was getting more of what she had received at the restaurant, and it was easy to tell that Jeff had ramped up his output. Oh, he hasn't told me he could do that. I knew that I could feel him while we ate, but it wasn't very intense, but now it's even stronger than the time the waitress almost sat in his lap.

"Easy, Jeff," Diana said as she pulled the coffee table out of the way where Caitlin had put her cup, then took the plate from the young woman's fingers as Jeff continued to gently hold her hand and smile at her.

He leaned forward, stopping his face a foot or so from Caitlin's, then slowly moved closer. Eventually, his lips touched hers for ten seconds or so. Pulling back a little, he waited for her to open her eyes. "You're beautiful," he quietly said.

Diana pulled her husband's face to hers and kissed him hard. "Go before we're all on our hands and knees," she laughed, only half kidding.

Jeff leaned in, tipped Caitlin's chin up, and kissed her again. Abruptly, he was out the door and gone.

"Now that we've got your attention," Diana grinned, "we'll talk about Alpha Males. And incidentally, he isn't just an Alpha; he's an Alpha Prime."



-------

Chapter 55

MONDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 16

After the conversation with Caitlin, Joyce and most of the wives were in Caitlin and Joyce's suite, talking. Diana had gone to Evie's apartment. The little blond was seated at the end of her kitchen table with Diana sitting near her. As they talked, Diana took Evie's hands in hers.

"But ... but, what in the world happened. Dave and I leave this morning and when we come back, Jeff has two new women in the house checking them out as wives. I mean ... Well, we saw what happened with Joyce in the pool, and we thought that maybe you were considering Joyce, but this is unbelievable. I mean, we've been talking about — thinking about — Linda, maybe, coming into our household, then bang, Jeff has two more in the same day. I mean... Crap, Diana."

Diana squeezed Evie's hands and let go, getting up to get them coffee. It looked like Evie needed it. "Don't be upset." The plea didn't look like it had done a lot of good. She put the cups on the table and poured. "Got any of that ice cream we ate last time?"

Evie waved vaguely in the direction of the freezer, still caught up with the thought of Jeff practically taking two more wives while she and her husband were out for the day.

Diana got bowls and spoons. Putting a couple of scoops of ice cream in each bowl, she put the container back in the freezer, then slid Evie's bowl near her. "I told you I had been thinking about another wife for Jeff. Why so upset?"

Evie stared at her, eyes big. "'Thinking about' and doing is something else. And, crap — two. I mean, what does Jeff think about this?"

"Oh, he fought it tooth and nail until he kissed Cramer. Remember, I keep telling you that it works both ways. Jeff has said that for a while, and well, we all know that he loves us. We can feel it. But seeing him suddenly attracted to the new women just as they are attracted to him, tends to really make a believer out of me. And like we talked about before, I know that our race is far from being the same as the healer's, but the parallels make me seriously think that we're more related than I thought, and maybe not merely in the eons distant past. Anyway, just about everything that the healer has told us about Alphas and Alpha Primes has certainly fit our situation.

"Watching Jeff kiss these women and seeing his face and bearing change along with theirs tend to make a believer out of me," she said taking a bite. Then, "I don't know how far along Dave is in the Alpha process..."

At Evie's questioning look, Diana said, "I mean the enhancing of the abilities that he already possesses. But I suspect that after their first kiss, he and Linda are going to feel a strong bond that will form very quickly."

"Yeah, and then Bill is going to have a tirade about a 'grown man' going after his innocent daughter. And that's probably an understatement," Evie said, staring at her ice cream.

Diana took another bite, slowly pulling the spoon out of her mouth, savoring the taste. "Oh, that's so good it's almost sinful."

Evie didn't respond to the comment, just continued, "Diana, I like Bill, and I, of course, love my husband. I'm scared to think about them getting into a fight. They're both ... well ... I don't know. They're both strong personalities, and strong men, as far as that goes. To put it mildly, I don't think it would be just a little fight, if there were any such thing. If there isn't someone there to break them up, no telling what could happen."

Diana, suddenly realizing how serious Evie was, put down her spoon and pushed her bowl aside. Grabbing Evie's hand, she stared at her friend. "Sweetheart, they're not going to fight. Both of them are far too intelligent for that."

"Bullshit! They're men. Testosterone wins over brains any time. Men have fought over women for years — hundreds of years, thousands of years — certainly fathers and prospective suitors have. And Bill will think that he has right on his side because Linda is so much younger than Dave. He'll claim that Dave is cradle robbing. I'm just scared..."

"Stop," Diana said, slightly raising her hand. "We've already talked to Bill — long talk about this."

"When? I didn't know ... What did he say?"

"Well, a lot of things have happened lately. Jeff and I grabbed Bill and took him for a short ride up to the old ski resort. He certainly hasn't given in to this, but we made it clear to him that Dave was an Alpha, and that Linda would be drawn to him since they had been around each other so much. We gave him an abbreviated version of what's going on, without mentioning the healer. The scars are about gone from his back and he's getting the benefits of glorious health. He can't deny those things. He might rationalize the great health, somehow, but the scars suddenly leaving and new skin taking their place ... The thoughts about the Alpha part will grow in his mind as well. He'll eventually see so many things that he will have no choice other than to believe.

"Besides," Diana grinned, "I think that after he and his wife are divorced that his outlook will change. I also suspect that Kathy will pull out all the stops. She's a mighty darned good-looking woman. It's been a long time since Bill has had any pussy," she said, her eyes glinting. "If Kathy ever gets his pants down, he won't be able to walk the next morning."

Evie chuckled, despite herself. "That might go both ways," she said. "I'm sure walking funny a lot."

"All the more reason to get the ball rolling about Linda." Seeing the expression on Evie's face, she quickly continued, "Just thinking about Jeff with his two new women has me so excited that I'm afraid they will smell me when we're close. I think that when you really decide that Dave needs Linda for a second wife, the Queen Bitch effect is going to hit you hard. When it does, I'm going to sit and grin while you're trying to rationalize it to me."

Evie stammered as Diana grinned at her. Thinking she knew the answer, but asking anyway. "And speaking of Dave, where is he?"

Evie, glad to change the subject a little, smiled back at her friend, fighting not to giggle. "Well, when you called and said we were on our own for supper, I decided to have an intimate little meal for us. I lit a bunch of candles in the dining room, put out a bottle of wine, put on a short skirt, a tight top with no bra, a pair of spikes, and invited him to eat. He managed to empty his plate in no time, then had his dessert on the dining room table — me. Well, on the table the first time, then the couch, uh, then the bed."

"And he's..."

"Sound asleep, his dick sticking straight up. Honestly Diana, I was glad he was sleepy. I'm too sore to do it again."

Diana grinned at her, allowing the pause to grow. "Looks like you need a sister-wife to give you a little help."

Evie tried to glower at her, but the glower fell apart, winding up a giggle.

-------

Joyce and Caitlin had showered together in the suite, reveling in the large, beautiful facilities. Dried off and wearing their oversize tee shirts that they favored for sleepwear, they had gone to bed without turning the lights off. Both were excited, mystified, and more than a little overwhelmed with the happenings of the day. They turned toward each other and lightly kissed for a time. Pulling back, Joyce looked at her lover. "I'm excited, but somehow..."

Caitlin smiled back at her. "Yeah, me too. I know that you've told me everything that you know about him, but I still can't get him off my mind. Do you suppose he really satisfies all those women and girls? I mean, those girls are... intense," she said, laughing. "Any one of them would be a handful for any man. All of them together..."

Joyce frowned for a second. "They tell me that he fucks them unconscious practically every night — all of them."

"Yeah, right. And if you believe that, I've got some ocean front property to sell you right here in Colorado," Caitlin said, but her tone didn't match her words.

"Uh, I didn't tell you everything. When he kissed me in the pool, I orgasmed. It was the most intense one of my whole life, and it just wouldn't stop. I woke up lying in his arms on one of the lounges. And he didn't even touch my breasts. Well, unless you count me pressing them against his chest while he was kissing me."

Caitlin stared at Joyce, wondering where her pragmatic friend that she had known for so many years had gone. "He kissed you unconscious?" she asked, not even bothering to try to disguise the wonder in her voice. She knew that Joyce never lied to her, so that didn't even cross her mind. "He must have drugged you, or something."

"Drugged me? How could he do that? Besides, I would have known. He didn't drug me; he kissed me. Didn't you like it when he kissed you?"

"Well, yeah. But he only kissed me for a little while, and he didn't even try to put his tongue into my mouth."

Joyce giggled. "He might not have kissed you for a long time, and I agree that it wasn't very lustful, but nevertheless, I could have hung a coat hanger on your nipples."

"You could not. I had a bra on as you well know."

"Yeah, but your nipples were still showing, bra or no bra."

"Well, it's been a long time since I've kissed a man, not that I don't like to kiss you," she hastily added.

"Maybe we need to..."

The bedroom door opened and Jeff walked in. Both young women had the sheet pulled up a little about their knees, showing bright bikini panties. Caitlin made an aborted squealing noise as she tried to jerk up the sheet.

"Don't you knock?" she snarled as Jeff calmly sat on the side of the bed next to her pinning the sheet from moving as high as Caitlin would have liked.

Joyce was a little jealous that Caitlin had chosen that side of the bed to sleep on.

Startling Caitlin more, Jeff reached out and gently cupped her chin. "I wanted to say goodnight and I didn't want to do it with us sitting in the other room. I'm not here to molest you; I just wanted to see you two again before I joined my wives."

The imaginations of both young women presented a vivid picture of what he meant by "joining" his wives.

Joyce felt her nipples trying to push their way out of her tee shirt. Jeff winked at her and glanced at the two plump bumps under her shirt. She had to force herself not to preen for him and push her breasts higher. No man has affected me like this, not even Ben, as much as I loved him. I guess I'm being manipulated by Jeff's pheromones and whatever else he does, like Diana says, but somehow I don't even care. Damn, he's good looking, he's rich, and ... he has seven wives,  she thought. Well, two out of three aren't bad,  she laughed to herself as Jeff's lips slowly descended toward Caitlin, who had the deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Do her the way you did me in the pool," Joyce found herself saying.

"No, I..." Caitlin managed before her world became Jeff's mouth on hers. The kiss continued for a while. Caitlin's arms came up and pulled Jeff to her, although she didn't realize that she had done it. After a time, the tip of his tongue teased her lips, asking for entry. She was certain that she clamped her lips together — well she had intended to — but somehow his tongue tentatively touched hers. She realized that while she hadn't noticed, his arms had circled her, pulling her to him. She had a strange feeling — more than lust — she felt Jeff's love for her and for Joyce. Felt it expand to all his wives. She thought of Ben and how much the three of them had loved each other.

Time drifted; she had no idea how long, but she realized that she was having an orgasm. She had always had to work at having an orgasm. Sometimes no matter what Joyce or Ben did, she didn't make it. She couldn't be having one from someone kissing her. The orgasm built, or was it another one coming on?

Joyce sat up in bed and pulled the sheet that was partially covering Caitlin down below her groin. Two orgasms already. Hah, he's got your attention my sweet Caitlin. And your panties are wet. It won't be long now.

Caitlin moaned, then shortly tried to scream into Jeff's mouth. Her body arched upward, tensed and held for a long time as she trembled. Suddenly she relaxed, her body and arms falling back to the bed. Jeff slowly released her, tenderly kissing her eyelids, then gently moved her body into a restful position.

"Wow," Joyce said, her eyes big. "I had my doubts that it would really work on her because of how difficult it is for her to achieve orgasm. She always has a hard time trying to climax," she finished, blushing to have said something so intimate about her lover.

Jeff stood, walked around to the other side of the bed and kicked off his shoes. Lying down next to Joyce, he pulled her into his arms, each of them on their sides facing each other. His lips touched hers. Shortly, she was pushing her breasts against his hard-muscled chest, her nipples feeling like they were going to explode. She wanted him to touch her breasts so badly, but he didn't. She tried to push her groin against him, but he prevented her. She felt herself building. Then the orgasms were coming one right after the other, then the big one...

Later, Jeff stopped for a second looking back at the two striking women asleep in the bed, the sheet pulled to their shoulders. Smiling, he darkened the room and left.

-------

As he walked into their bedroom, Jeff was mobbed by the girls. Staggering, he tried not to fall on any of them as they pulled his pants down to his ankles, then Ann and Arlene on either leg, got his pants and shoes off. Melissa pulled his tee shirt over his head as Arlene finished with his socks, and on her knees, looked up to stare at his cock only inches from her face.

"You started things last time," Melissa said, "My turn," as she knelt and quickly engulfed the head of his cock with her open mouth.

Jeff sighed as Melissa sucked hard, her cheeks concaving.

"Girls. Let the man at least get on the bed," Helen laughed as she tried to help Jeff the last few feet with Melissa attached to his dick.

Jeff looked down at his sexy, young wife. "Oh, shit, Baby. I'm hot from kissing Joyce and Caitlin. If you keep doing that, I'm going to drown you," he gasped as he fell back on the bed with Melissa still hanging on.

Making a quiet whining noise, she continued sucking, now able to move her mouth up and down a portion of his cock, laving the head with her tongue. Knowing that he would spurt for her if she continued, she moved her mouth faster, sucking even harder, concaving her cheeks for him the way he liked.

"Baby, I'm going to come a lot," he warned as the pump started, but she just sucked harder. His world reduced to the intense pleasure and the face of the girl, her lips locked around his cock, her breasts jiggling as she sucked as hard as she could. He tensed, his back arching his dick upward as he felt his semen travel through his cock into the wonderful warm wetness of her mouth.

It was only for seconds, but it felt like he came for minutes, Melissa concentrating on swallowing fast enough, her lips still locked tightly around the head of his spurting cock so that none of his precious sperm would be lost. Toward the last, she thrashed her lower body against the bed as her orgasm crashed through her. After a while, giggling, she turned his still-hard cock loose. "Wow," she simply said.

Diana pushed Melissa gently aside and straddled her husband. "I'm not going to be last this time. I'm just as hot as everybody else. Your kissing those two for so long has about driven us crazy."

Melissa obligingly lined up his thick cock with her mistress's entrance. Diana pushed downward, her wet pussy expanding as his cock was forced inside by her weight.

"Oh, Baby, you're tight," Jeff sighed, leaning upward to look at their junction.

Diana wiggled, then lifted up. Reversing, she tried again, seating him farther inside her. The next time, his cock came to rest about halfway there. "Damn, Baby. Are you still doing those Kegel exercises?" he asked, again staring between them.

"Yeah," she giggled. "You like?" she teased, squeezing him.

"Oh, you know I do," Jeff said as she managed to wiggle the rest of the way down until he pushed hard against her womb.

"They aren't really Kegel exercises. They're a variation on the theme," she said grinning at him as she watched his eyes follow the sway of her breasts.

Pushing herself back down his long cock, she squeezed as hard as she could, locking them together.

"Crap, Hon. That almost hurts. Are you still keeping that little dildo in you most of the day?" he asked, not quite sure he was going to have a dick left after this.

Diana released most of the pressure, then slowly rotated her hips, his cock pressing satisfyingly against her cervix. "Yeah. We all are," she sighed. "After a few days the repetitions of squeezing and releasing became so natural that I do them without conscious thought," she got out, her voice tight.

"We all do it, Daddy," Arlene chimed in, unable to keep from running her hand across her father's chest as her mother rose up again, then pushed down harder this time.

As Diana continued, she slammed downward several more times, a soft, feminine grunt escaping her lips as his big cock bottomed out in her.

Arlene cupped the nearest of her mother's breasts, gently squeezing, then pulling her hand toward the nipple in a milking motion. Pulling on the nipple produced multiple fine streams of milk and a louder exclamation from her mother, as Diana thrashed around, her sounds changing to a scream as the orgasm took hold.

Arlene milked first one breast then the other as Diana lay on his chest, supporting herself with her forearms so Arlene could continue to tease her tits. Jeff grabbed Diana's hips and rapidly pumped his cock as deep as it would go. Her orgasm tapered off as she snapped her head from side to side making her full, long hair cascade about her shoulders. After a moment, she collapsed fully onto his chest, forcing Arlene to move her hands out of the way.

"That was good," Diana eventually said, laughter in her voice as she milked his cock buried so deeply within her, then squeezed down hard just to show him that she could.

Jeff grunted. "Baby, I really think that you should back off a little on those exercises. You can already lock us together with that 'snapping pussy' of yours," he finished, knowing that he would get a rise out of her with the comment.

"I'm not some snapping turtle," she complained, moving her face up a little so she could look at him. "And one of the old books I read said that the geisha could squeeze so hard that the man couldn't pull out of her."

"Well, you're there and then some," Jeff said.

"So you want me to quit exercising? Everyone is doing it. But you know that," she reminded him, teasing, knowing he didn't want them to quit.

"Oh, uh, well ... No. I don't want you to quit, and I'm well aware that everyone is doing it," Jeff chuckled. "It's like going to bed with a whole bunch of virgins every night, as far as how tight everyone is. I'm just worried that you're going to do something that will wind up hurting you."

"Bullshit," Diana said smiling into his face as she pulsed her vaginal muscles. "You're just afraid that you'll lose some of that control of yours and go off before you intend to. And what if you did? I'm not sure we've ever reached your max. You always have more if one of us hasn't had enough, yet."

Jeff didn't answer because he was distracted by the strong milking motion working on his cock as the alluring woman stared into his eyes, her mouth only inches from his, just begging to be kissed, which he did. After a moment, she began a pumping motion with her hips while continuing with the milking, her nipples moving through his chest hair as her breasts pressed against him.

Feeling his release building inside him without his having initiated it, he started to roll Diana to her back so he could take control and finish her. Resisting, she spread her knees for leverage, whispering "No, Baby. This once, just relax and let it happen." Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear. "Let your Queen Bitch show her sisters that she still has what it takes."

Jeff knew that she wasn't a bit worried about her age, for she looked nineteen or twenty, and could win hands down any beauty contest she cared to enter, but she was taking this Queen Bitch thing very seriously. Relaxing, he focused his full thoughts on this exotic woman in his arms as her lips pushed hard against his, her tongue coming to play, the kiss building with passion. If she doesn't orgasm when I do, it's her own fault,  he thought as he totally relinquished control to the one who frequently wanted him to dominate her when they made love.

Soon the masturbation that her pussy continued to give his cock became his whole world as he drifted, occasionally nursing a spurting nipple that Diana directed toward his mouth with Arlene's help. He made no effort to time his release with hers, just let his mate milk the sperm from him. After a time and almost without warning, his cock swelled, then pulsed as a geyser of sperm-laden semen spewed from the tip, wrenching a long groan from him.

Diana jammed her cervix hard against the head of his cock, surrendering her womb to the warmth that spurted within her. She shook her head, her hair obscuring her face. As she took a breath and sat partway up, threw her head back and screamed, his cock spewed again — this time, a literal torrent of come. He rammed upward, holding her squirming hips to him as his cock pulsed again and again, his balls pumping sperm into his mate.

In mid scream, her voice cut off, her body relaxing as the world left her senses. He caught her before she banged her chin into his hard shoulder. Smiling, he snuggled her to him, petting her, whispering into her ear. The feeling of her warm breasts and her hardened, elongated nipples pushing against his chest produced a sigh from him as he hugged his first love to him.

Jeff half-stroked several times into the unconscious woman lying so nicely on his chest, his semen squirting out around their junction from his action, making a sound that caused Arlene to grin as her own orgasm tapered off.

Helen on the other side of them whispered, "That was intense."

Looking over, Jeff realized that Laura and Ann were locked in a sixty-nine — well had been. They appeared to both be out now. Jennie and Melissa were lying slumped against each other, as well.

In her sleep, an aftershock must have passed through Diana, for her pussy clamped down alarmingly on his over-sensitive cock. He winced, but shoved back, the stimulus reversing his deflating dick and encouraging it to full-hardness again. Diana moaned and trembled.

A little later, Arlene, assisted by Jeff, rolled her mother to her back while Jennie, still groggy, managed to push a cloth in place. "Eat her," Jeff said to his daughter. "You say you like to swallow my come. There's plenty of it coming out of your mother."

"You bet," she said, her eyes sparkling at him. "Just as long as I get that cock of yours up my pussy."

"No use letting that pretty pussy go to waste," Jeff said, smiling at Arlene as she gently pulled her mother's legs apart and knelt between them.

"Just lie on your belly," Jeff said, and as she complied, he pushed one of the big pillows under her stomach, raising her pussy up for him. Jennie and Melissa managed to get a smaller pillow under Diana's hips to make it easier on Arlene.

Jeff looked over at Diana lying on her back, her lips slightly parted as if she were in a deep sleep. Arlene, now in position, licked at her mother's entrance, following the flow of thick sperm, suddenly on the verge of orgasm as the strong taste of her father-husband's spend mixed with her mother-sister-wife's secretions. Just the erotic thoughts and the taste almost pushed her over.

Take me, my husband,  she thought as Jeff lined his cock up and pushed into her tight pussy from behind. She grunted as the head forced its way past her entrance and expanded her walls. She clamped down, then milked him as he withdrew partway, then pushed deeper. Before he reached her womb, she was wracked with a powerful orgasm that tapered off, then returned, over and over.

She forgot to lick as Jeff's thrust pushed her face into the sperm-covered pussy in front of her. Grasping her hips with a strength that brooked no argument — as if there would be any — he set up a rhythm to please his young wife, and himself. He had pushed her legs together, his on the outside, so she was helpless to move her body at all, but the same wasn't true for her pussy. Not that this was the first time, for they had learned to pulse their intimate muscles weeks ago, but she tried to let him know that she had practiced almost as much as her mother had. Somehow, tonight was different and she wanted to be the absolute best she could be for her husband.

Soon, his hands shifted to milking her laden breasts. All too soon, to her way of thinking, the orgasms consolidated into one long one that built and built. Then there was the warmth of a gush of semen that seemed to pool in her womb. She slammed her pussy up to him and held trembling, trying to breathe past the most wonderful feeling in the world. That world gradually went away and she too slept.

-------

Several hundred feet away, Caitlin and Joyce awoke in each other's arms, their bodies trembling as their orgasms tapered off.

Joyce rolled over and dialed the lights up a little. "I just had the most erotic dream, and I woke up having an orgasm..." she said as she turned back to her lover to see Caitlin's flushed face and erect nipples tenting her shirt.

"I dreamed that I was lying on my belly with some big-dicked guy pounding my brains out," Caitlin said, her voice husky.

"Me, too," Joyce squeaked back.

They were quiet for a moment, staring at each other, then Caitlin said, "Shit."

Joyce sighed. "Yeah. Me, too."



-------

Chapter 56

TUESDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 17

Four bubbling, bright-eyed teenagers, braless, wearing shorts and tight tops, swarmed into Caitlin and Joyce's bedroom at five-thirty, Tuesday morning. Arlene flipped the light on as Jennie and Melissa piled onto the bed bouncing on their knees. Ann plopped down beside a suddenly wide-eyed Caitlin as Arlene dragged up a chair and sat grinning.

The giggles and laughter from the teenagers quickly caught on and both women smiled despite the rude awakening.

"It's five thirty," Arlene said, glancing at her watch for effect, although she knew exactly what time it was. "Dad will be back from his run in a little while. If you hurry, you can be in the kitchen when he stops by for his coffee before he takes his shower. He'll be nice and sweaty."

Caitlin couldn't help it, "'He'll be nice and sweaty, and..."

"Oh, it's clean sweat," Ann said. "He smells like a man." Standing, she yanked the sheet to the bottom of the bed. "Hurry up. We eat at six, but he'll be back before then. If you don't hurry, you'll miss him."

"But why are you doing this?" Caitlin asked, as Joyce grinned.

"Oh, you will be wives, soon," Arlene said, as if that explained everything. "Now get your butts up and hurry," she finished, pulling Caitlin, vehemently denying that she was going to be anyone's wife in the near future, out of bed and ushering her toward the bathroom as Jennie did the same with Joyce.

A few minutes later as the women were showering, trying not to get their hair wet, Caitlin turned to look at Joyce. "I can't believe these people — this place. This is insane. You drag me up here and bam, I'm supposed to join this guy's harem."

"You just need a refresher," Joyce grinned, turning Caitlin to quickly wash her back. "Now mine," she said, presenting hers, "and let's get our clothes on in a hurry. I think I can find the kitchen."

"I can't believe I'm hurrying to smell a guy's sweat," Caitlin grumped. "I still say it's insane. No man..."

" ... kisses women unconscious," Joyce interjected, although that wasn't what Caitlin was going to say. "And we just happened to have the same dream at the same time. Uh huh. If he can make us faint with his mouth, I just wonder what he could do with his..."

"Joyce. I thought you still missed Dad. Are you forgetting all about him?"

Joyce turned to her friend and hugged her hard. "I'll never forget him. I still cry for him, and you know it. But I'm falling in love with this man, and Diana is so beautiful and sweet, as are Helen and Laura, and the girls just make me want to jump right in with them. I'm still somewhat confused, too, but Diana will probably do a better job of telling their story than I can, and will make it a whole lot more believable. Now hurry. I want to be there when Jeff gets back from his run."

Caitlin, mumbling a little about going to smell someone's sweat, nevertheless began to get ready.

When Joyce and Caitlin cautiously walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, the "machine" was putting breakfast together. The breakfast bar had been moved into place and the smell was already beginning to be enticing. Evie waved to them from the other end of the kitchen, then quickly came over to be introduced to Caitlin.

Shortly Evie was back with the others as Diana hugged Joyce and Caitlin. "Jeff is just coming in the back. The girls are in rare form this morning. They're liable to mob him as soon as he comes in here."

Unsure just how to respond to that, "What can we do to help?" Joyce asked, looking at the bustling activity farther into the kitchen.

"Nothing right now," Diana answered. "We'll let you help for supper, if we don't eat out. I don't know how long it will take at the lawyer's office, plus we have a computer system to pick up and some other things to do."

All of Jeff's wives looked toward the door. A few seconds later, it opened and Jeff walked in wearing a light tee-shirt and running shorts, although it was almost down to freezing outside. He grinned at them and sat at the head of the table, his chair pushed a little out. Helen promptly sat in his lap, unashamedly pushing her breasts against his chest, then kissing him with hunger. After a moment, sighing, she got up as Laura took her place.

Diana was last. When she finished, she got up and took Joyce's hand. Leading her to Jeff, she ushered her onto his lap. Jeff tenderly kissed her for a half-minute, then quietly said, "Good morning, pretty lady."

Joyce leaned against him and whispered, "You're like coming home. I feel safe here. I'm just going to stop thinking and feel. Intellectually I can't believe this is happening, but I can feel your love when we kiss."

Jeff smiled at her and briefly touched his lips to hers again.

As Joyce got up, Diana led a very not-sure Caitlin to Jeff. Seeing her reluctance, he quietly said, "Please. I won't attack you. I think I proved that last night. Just sit here and let me hold you for a moment."

Caitlin found herself sitting. If that's his dick I feel, I need to run screaming right now. If it's half as big as it feels, he'll rip me apart for sure. Crap, what am I thinking? No way is he ever doing that to me. I don't want anyone after Daddy.

His powerful arms encircled her, tugged her toward him, then stopped, their mouths inches apart. Seemingly drawn to him, she initiated the kiss, her lips parting slightly, his being seeming to surround her. An interminable time later, she found herself on her feet, her fingertips touching her mouth. Embarrassed, she was positive that everyone would at least be looking at her, probably even laughing. But when she looked around, everyone was busy, Joyce included.

Jeff downed half a cup of coffee, excused himself and went for his shower. Caitlin realized that her hand was damp from his shoulder. She couldn't quite remember whether she had smelled his sweat or not. She wanted to smell her hand, but was afraid that someone would see her.

Dave came in and was introduced by Ann, who happened to be nearby. It didn't take Caitlin long to realize that he was a hunk, too. As he seated himself at the big table, Evie plopped into his lap and kissed him so eagerly that Caitlin was almost embarrassed. Evie got up, winked at her, then grabbed her hand, pulling the stunned young woman into the melee, or what at first seemed to her to be one.

Despite what Diana had earlier said, Caitlin found herself helping set the table with someone seeming to always be beside her just as she started to ask where something else was. Remembering what Diana had said about the girls mobbing Jeff, she realized that they had probably toned it down because of Joyce and herself.

In minutes everyone was sitting. Arlene and Ann, on either side of her, suddenly took her hands as Jeff said the blessing. Caitlin's eyes welled over. Quietly she said to no one in particular, "Those were exactly the words that Ben frequently used," but everyone heard her.

When she glanced at Joyce who was sitting across the table, her eyes were wet, too.

"Come on," Arlene said, taking Caitlin's hand. "We have some great little watermelons to go with our breakfast fruit. They're called sugar babies. They're so sweet that it's unbelievable."

Before she knew it, Caitlin was swept into the conversation, laughter and good-natured jibes. Glancing over at a laughing Joyce, Caitlin remembered that she had laughed, even giggled almost throughout the meal. Realizing that she had laughed more in the last little while than she had all together since Ben died, she meant to just glance at Jeff, but their eyes met and locked.

Damn, he's good looking. He kissed me unconscious,  she remembered, incredulous. And ... I sat on his cock at this table, in front of all his wives. And ... they're acting like my sitting in his lap was the most natural thing in the world. Tearing her eyes away from Jeff, she stared at a laughing Joyce as she bantered with Jennie. She's accepting this, but I still love Ben. I just can't be untrue to him. I can feel Jeff's love, or I think I can. Oh, I'm all mixed up... 

Arlene suddenly hugged her. "It will be okay. We know that you miss your dad — that you love him. That's fine. It's the way it should be," she said, seeming much older than her sixteen years. "Dad understands, too. He won't push you," she whispered. "Just relax and let us enjoy your company. Before you know it, you'll be part of us. Watch and see."

After the meal, Diana tried to get Joyce and Caitlin to go to the living room with the men, but they refused, wanting to help, although both were leery of the precision chaos that the women called cleanup. They were soon sucked into it, though, the good mood and laughter as well.

When cleanup was over, Diana looked around her. "Okay, let's get dressed. We need to be rolling by eight. The appointment with the lawyers is at ten."

Joyce and Caitlin looked at each other, knowing that they stood little chance of getting out of the trip. "Uh, Diana," Joyce hesitantly said, "we only brought casual things. We can just sit in the car while..."

"Nonsense," Diana broke in. "We're all wearing jeans," she said, already having realized that the two young women hadn't brought much.

"But, if I understand correctly, there's going to be at least a couple of lawyers, the property owners, oh, a bunch of people..." Joyce tried.

"Yeah, so what?" Diana smiled. "And we're going to be spending — well preparing to spend — a lot of money. This is just to get the ball rolling today. But who cares what a couple of lawyers think. Besides, we kinda like this guy. He enjoyed himself so much on the last deal that he charged a whole dollar," she finished, laughing.

"Oh, he'll probably make up for it this time. But he couldn't care less what we have on. Beside, I don't know how the farmers that we're buying the place from will be dressed, so we don't want to overdress. Now quit stalling. We'll meet you in the living room when you're finished. If you take too long, I'll send the girls after you," she teased.

Turning away, Diana hurried after her sister-wives, her long hair drifting gently from side to side as she quickly walked down the hall.

-------

At the garage, later, Diana backed the Expedition out. As the others got in, she said, "Jeff used to drive this one a lot, but lately we've just taken the Escalades. We need to drive it some, and it's pretty nice, too."

"Sure beats what we drive," Joyce said, sitting behind Diana. Laura tried to get Caitlin to sit in the front seat, but she got in beside Joyce, instead. Laura took the front seat, Helen got in and they were off, second in the little caravan.

As Diana followed Jeff and the girls in his pickup, Joyce looked behind her at Dave and Evie in his Escalade. "We could all have gotten in the two vehicles, couldn't we?"

"Yeah," Diana laughed, testing her brakes as they passed in front of the retreat before starting down the driveway. "But remember, we've got to pick up a computer system for Linda, then stop by the grocery store. We have a lot of the staples delivered by the company that serviced the kitchen when Frank Wainwright owned the retreat, but we enjoy picking out the other things ourselves. As many of us as there are, even those take up a lot of room."

Caitlin started to comment but the second switchback put her on the outside of the curve, giving her a view of the abyss. "Shit," she quietly hissed.

The women all laughed. "We had a bet going on about what the first word you would say would be," Helen said, the laughter still in her voice. "But it wasn't much of a bet, since just about everybody thought that would be your comment."

Caitlin wasn't quite as amused as the rest of them. When Helen noticed her staring at the guardrails, she reassured her, "Dave's company put those up. He swears that you couldn't drive one of these SUVs through them if you tried. He says that the vertical supports are buried many feet down in solid rock, and the whole barrier is designed to stop a fully-loaded dump truck. The drive scared the wax out of me the first few times, but it doesn't bother me now... much," she finished, laughing.

Caitlin managed a sick little chuckle and averted her eyes. Trying to get her mind off the drop, she desperately thought about the five-hundred-and-sixty pound ox she had tried to keep alive all yesterday in her surgical intensive care unit, only to have him code just before the shift was over. You couldn't tell his family that the idiot had basically eaten himself to death, but even so, that's what it was. The human body wasn't designed to be that fat. Why would a family continue to bring those volumes of food to a person once they had gotten so big that they couldn't even get out of bed? For that matter, how did they get close enough to a commode to sit down even before becoming totally bedfast? Smiling, she wondered how many grossly obese people she had heard saying that they ate like a bird. Yeah, right. But a lot of birds eat several times their weight each day. She agreed, though, some of these people must, indeed, eat like birds.

Finally, as far as Caitlin was concerned, Diana got to the bottom of the drive, then followed Jeff onto the first of the county roads.

They stopped to get coffee to go before leaving Winter Park. As they pulled back onto the road toward the next mountain, then on to the interstate, Diana, Laura and Helen gave Caitlin the talk that Joyce got yesterday, and since there was a lot of time, they went into more detail.

Caitlin, though skeptical at first, began to come to a grudging belief, at least on some of the things. Looking over at her longtime friend and lover, Joyce is a lot more calm about this than I am. Of course she's been around them longer than I have. Perhaps it's because I'm a nurse. Then again, maybe I should have read more science fiction like Joyce did. Musing for a moment, she continued thinking, There's just enough logic to the whole thing to touch the edge of credibility. I really don't think they're lying, but I can't help feeling that they're not telling everything. Joyce said she thought that might be true, and now after hearing Diana, I tend to agree. I wonder what it is. Crap, everything Diana has said is so wild, why would they leave out something?

She was brought out of her rumination as Diana followed Jeff's pickup into a parking deck in downtown Denver. Ahead of them Jeff tooted his horn at an older couple and a suit walking toward the elevator. Diana waved at the group as they passed. "Those are the people that we're going to buy the land from. There are some complications, so we're all getting together with the lawyers today to get things ironed out," Diana said as she pulled into a parking place next to Jeff's pickup.

Getting out, everyone hurried to catch up with the Thompsons and their attorney.

A couple of minutes later, Joyce stepped closer to Diana as they waited for the elevator to come back for them, one elevator load having already gone. "Are you sure it's not going to be awkward with us being here? I mean, you people are going to be discussing business..."

"So?" Diana grinned at her. "It will be your business before you know it. Besides, Jeff has already called and told them how many there will be. They have a conference room that will easily hold us. Jeff said that Fontaine, our attorney, didn't hesitate in the slightest. Besides, he's seen our group before when we helped Carla out with her farm. Now quit worrying. You're quickly becoming part of us, even in your mind. In ours, you're already there."

The elevator door opened and it was time for their group to crowd on.

-------

The conference table wouldn't quite seat everyone, although there were plenty of chairs along the wall. The girls had started to sit at the table, but looked at each other and diverted to the other seats, carrying Joyce and Caitlin with them. As everyone relaxed into their seats, the girls made sure that the two young women had one of the young wives on either side of them. Then they all locked hands. Caitlin started to pull her hands away from Arlene on one side and Ann on the other, but she stopped herself. It felt ... good to be accepted as part of them. She decided to wait a moment before pulling away, then forgot it. Somehow, she felt at peace.

Joyce, between Jennie and Melissa, just smiled and felt content.

The two young women listened with growing respect as the meeting went on. Jeff repeatedly accepted the Thompsons' provisions. His only real proviso was that he would receive the first option to purchase the remaining four hundred acres, should something happen, or the Thompsons change their mind about retaining their part. "I want this to remain farmland. I don't want a subdivision built in the middle of the property. Ed, Jody and all of us feel the same, so we need to make the contract reflect this."

-------

Later in the parking lot, Jeff asked, "Who's hungry?"

"Uh, Jeff," Dave said, "we're going to stop by the office. Carmen needs to talk with us about a problem. We'll take her out to eat while we have our meeting. We'll just meet you back at home."

Helen smiled at the Henson's, "You're going to miss out on some excellent Chinese food. We're going to this little place that ... John, Martha and I used to go to a lot."

Evie took her hand for a moment. "We really would like to go, but Carmen sounded upset. She wanted to talk privately with us, so we better take care of that. She's our office manager. She doesn't let much get to her."

"If I can help, you know my cell number," Jeff interjected, a frown on his face.

-------

As they parked in the little lot and got out, Jeff looked at Helen. "This is the place, right?"

"Yes, Baby, it's the place," Helen said, putting her arm around her husband and looking up at him as they walked toward the door. "It's small and not in the best location — shall we say — but the restaurant is owned by a family that has been doing this for many years. It's real Chinese food, not an Americanized version. You will love it."

Jeff held the door open and as Helen walked past, he whispered in her ear while patting her butt, "That's a fine ass, Little Teacher."

Helen smirked and strutted inside, her shoulders back and a smile on her face.

-------

After their meal, back in the little parking lot, Jeff said, "Okay, what's the best way to the mall from here? I'm not familiar with this area. I can retrace to the lawyer's office, and I can certainly get to the mall ... eventually, but I know there is bound to be a shorter way."

Helen laughed. "I keep forgetting that you really haven't been to Denver that many times. I'll ride with you and show you a shortcut, well at least shorter than going back to the interstate."

Just for fun, they did a complete shuffle. Helen, Joyce, Caitlin and Laura rode with Jeff, with the rest in Diana's vehicle. A few blocks from the restaurant, Jeff suddenly sat straighter in his seat, his hands tighter on the wheel.

Helen sitting beside him, noticed and started to ask, when he suddenly turned into a small grocery store parking lot, then accelerated toward the end of one of the parking rows, Diana in her vehicle coming hard behind him.

Pointing, Jeff said, "There!" his voice loud.

An elderly couple, the trunk up on their vehicle, had been putting groceries in when they were accosted by three young males, two of which were holding knives. The couple was resisting the robbery. The man was trying to take the knife away from one of the punks, and the gray-haired lady had attached herself to the back of the other knife-wielder, trying to reach around and scratch his eyes.

Jeff slammed to a halt and was out of the truck, Joyce on his heels. Just as Jeff got there, the old man kicked ineffectually at the guy's balls, still holding to the assailant's knife arm. The guy wrenched away, turning the knife as he did so, laying the elderly man's forearm open in the process.

The other assailant, not able to stab the old man because of the woman trying her best to pluck his eyes out, reached over his shoulder. Finally getting a good grip in her hair, he wrenched the woman off his back, sending her spinning away from him. She hit the ground, but didn't stay down. As she stumbled to her feet, there was blood dripping from her face and hands where she had connected with the pavement.

By then, Jeff stepped in. He reached out with a speed almost too fast to see, seeming to barely touch the head of first one then the other of the two with the knives, but there was a "whap" as his hand connected each time. The first punk collapsed without a sound. The second one did manage a grunt before joining his partner. As Jeff turned to the third attacker, Joyce stepped up behind the young man from his left just as he was fumbling his knife out. Taking his left wrist that was down by his side with her left hand, she walked into his arm, his left hand now near her left hip. At the same time, she put her right forearm across his triceps just below his shoulder. Spinning hard to the left and going to her left knee, the assailant was forced into a very rapid transit around the outside of her half-spin, his feet leaving the ground. She wasn't nice to him; she maintained force on his arm all the way to the pavement, which his face contacted with a sickening sound. He twitched once, but otherwise didn't move.

Cramer looked around her, her shirt pulled up, exposing her off-duty gun, while Jeff kicked the knives a distance away and roughly searched the men for more weapons.

"Where in the fuck are we?" Joyce growled, pulling her cell phone out.

"Hargrove Grocery," Jeff supplied looking at the sign in the front of the parking lot. "I didn't notice a street sign."

Helen started to run back to the street to find a street sign. "Wait, Helen," Cramer Said. "Screw it. Dispatch will know, or can look it up from the grocery store's name. Denver's dispatchers are sharp."

Shortly, Cramer had identified herself and was talking on her cell. In an amazingly short period of time, they heard the sirens. Joyce stood holding her off-duty badge and ID up as the first of Denver's finest came barreling into the lot. Caitlin had already found the very professional first aid kit in the truck and was working with the elderly man's arm. Diana had the kit from the Expedition and was helping the woman. Soon there were paramedics and cops everywhere.

Three hours later a tired group left the police department, picked up the computer system, and started back for the mountain. Helen volunteered to drive Caitlin's car to the retreat, and Caitlin gladly took her up on it. They would get groceries later.

-------

Back at the retreat, Joyce and Caitlin were the first to the back door, because his women had surrounded Jeff as soon as he got out of the truck.

Joyce hadn't tried the door, knowing that it was locked, but when Melissa came hurrying up, the door opened for her. "Sorry," she said. "We haven't told the computer that it's supposed to open for you. We'll correct that as soon as we get inside."

Halfway down the hall, Jeff came jogging up. As they stopped and turned toward him to see what he wanted, he swept a startled Joyce into his arms, hugging her, then kissing her hard. As soon as he finished, he crushed Caitlin into a hug, then kissed her. "I'm so darned proud of you two."

"But I didn't do anything," Caitlin protested. "It was Joyce that took that other guy out..."

"Oh, no, you didn't do anything," Jeff sardonically said, "Only saved that old guy about a quart of blood, maybe even his life."

"Yeah, well, after watching Diana, I'm pretty sure she could have done the same thing."

Jeff turned back to Joyce, "And you, my lovely, smashed that bastard's face all over the pavement."

"Well, it wasn't quite that bad," Joyce laughed, "but I guess I should have held back a little like we used to when we trained on the takedown in rookie class. Even hitting the mat with full force will get your attention, although you're prepared for the maneuver and know how to land."

"The hell with them. They would have killed that elderly couple."

"But why did he..." Caitlin started.

"He's a retired marine. Well I guess there aren't any ex-Marines. I've never met one yet that didn't claim to still be a marine. And his wife would have fought to her last breath, as well. Plus she told me that the first thing the punk tried to do was stab her husband. They didn't have much to lose by fighting. Those three were going to kill them, anyway."

Grinning at Joyce, he continued, "Looking at that guy's left eye would make you sick at your stomach where the lady got him with her nails. Those two put up a pretty damn good fight."

"I just feel sorry for them," Joyce said. "The lady told me that they had lived in the area for years, but the neighborhood has gone down. She said that they were too old to try to go somewhere else, and they don't have any kids. It's sad."

Jeff's face set as he processed the information.

Joyce hugged him for a second. "We're going to take a shower, and maybe a nap. Both of us are tired, and I guess, a little depressed about that old couple."

"Okay, meet us in the living room when you get ready. Captain Madison, Linda and Kathy will be here soon, I guess. I haven't talked to them today, but they're due back tonight. And Dave and Evie should be in, as well."

Jeff went to look for his wives while Joyce and Caitlin continued on to their suite. Inside, they both sat on the couch and hugged each other.

Caitlin frowned at Joyce, "Dammit, you could have gotten yourself killed back there. You're a woman. That fucker outweighed you by fifty pounds; he was probably a hell of a lot stronger, and he had a knife."

Joyce sighed, then briefly kissed her lover. Pulling back a little, she smiled at Caitlin. "We've gone over this time and again. This is what I do for a living. Well ... I don't exactly go around doing this all shift, but it can happen, and has in the past. Occasionally you just drive up on something while you're on patrol, or you're not far away when we get the call and it's still in progress when you get there. Particularly on domestics, they tend to last for awhile."

Joyce knew that Caitlin was brewing for another fight on a worn-out subject. It wouldn't be long before Caitlin brought up the "I'll-send-you-back-to-school-to-get-a-degree-in-something-else," argument.

Grabbing Caitlin's hand, Joyce said, "Let's get a shower. I don't want to argue."

Still grumbling a little, Caitlin, nevertheless, shed her clothes and followed Joyce into the shower. With the water adjusted, they kissed and hugged each other, soaped each other up, then began rinsing. Gently teasing each other's nipples, they didn't realize they weren't alone for a moment until Jeff kissed Caitlin on the back of her neck.

Caitlin almost jumped out of her skin, her temper flaring. "Don't you ever knock?" she demanded, whirling on an equally naked Jeff.

Joyce just gasped when Jeff spoke, then her eyes riveted on what was hanging between his legs. "Oh, shit," she whispered so quietly that Caitlin didn't even notice.

Caitlin wasn't done as she stood trying to cover her breasts and groin. "I know that this is your ... your ... house, or whatever it is, but you just blatantly..."

Jeff put a hand behind her neck and pulled her to him, his mouth coming down on hers even as she was trying to admonish him. As he did when he wanted his wives to orgasm, he put all he had into the mental push, even as Caitlin began to respond to the kiss that felt like it was consuming her.

Working a hand slowly down her side, he allowed it a languid trail toward her groin, giving her plenty of time to stop him if she really wanted.

She tensed and for a second huffed into his mouth, but the huff changed to a whimper as his hand drew nearer to its target. A shiver ran through her as she momentarily tried to talk into his mouth. The hand inched closer. Despite herself, she hoped it would continue. A fingertip drew tiny circles just above her neatly trimmed "V" of soft hair that pointed to her sex.

Jeff's fingers tugged gently at her down, then teased lower to follow the now-swelling lips, after deliberately missing her most sensitive spot. Jeff's gentle movement of his lips on hers was almost hypnotic as his tongue pushed forward to touch the tip of hers. The hand had reached her entrance, a fingertip teasing there for a moment before starting back up, this time slightly parting her nether lips.

Knowing that she was close, he touched a now-wet fingertip to her bud, then continued a circling motion as her orgasm crashed over her. He did his best to extend the orgasm as long as he could, but had backed off on the mental push. Finally, Caitlin slumped against him, pulling her mouth away and burying her face against his chest.

"Still mad at me?" he teased as she struggled to get her breath.

She wanted to say that she was, but just let out a quiet sigh, instead.

Joyce, who for the last little while was standing at their side, put her arm around Caitlin, then reached down to lift Jeff's still-quiescent manhood. It felt heavy in her hand — very heavy, but there wasn't enough room between Jeff and Caitlin.

When Caitlin felt it bump against her, she looked down, then moved back a little. "No," Caitlin gasped. "No. That thing will never go in me."

"Me, either," Joyce said, now lifting his cock until it was straight out. Feeling it beginning to swell in her hand, she added, "My goodness."

"I'm not going to put it in either of you today," Jeff said, looking each of them in the eyes, in turn. "You will tell me when that is going to happen. But I would like to kiss Joyce now." Drawing her to him, he gently touched his lips to hers, then put a hand on the back of her neck as he had Caitlin, pulling Joyce against his body, his mouth taking command of hers.

When his hand began its trek to her pussy, she grabbed hold and placed it where she wanted it. As he teased her lips and drew circles around her clit, she whined into his mouth trying to tell him to get on with it. When the circles finally diminished until his fingertip was touching her special place, he pressed down a little harder, continuing with the circles, trying to mentally send his love and excitement to her.

Shortly, she thrashed into orgasm, her body bucking against his hand. When it was over, he touched his lips to her closed eyelids as he held her tight to him, then pulled Caitlin into the embrace with them.

Joyce still hadn't let go of his now rock-hard cock. "I think I can get it into my mouth," she whispered as she slowly sank to her knees. Still holding his cock with one hand, she brought her mouth to its tip. She lightly kissed it for a moment, then licked several drops of pre-come as it bubbled from the hole.

Jeff held Caitlin tight against him as Joyce opened wide and pushed her mouth onto the head. She moaned as he inched a little more of his cock into her mouth, not wanting to go too far and make her gag. She sucked, hollowing her cheeks, then moved her head slowly back and forth. She moaned deep in her throat, but it sounded more like a purr as she gently lifted his balls with her free hand.

Feeling and seeing their size, she couldn't help whimpering again. Oh, my gosh. If size has anything to do with it, he has enough sperm to impregnate me and twenty other women at the same time. I hope our pills work. Oh, Ben, please forgive me. I still love you, but you're gone. I know that I'm going to give myself to this man, she thought as she sucked more pre-come into her mouth, the strong taste almost pushing her over. Her hand automatically slid back and forth on the shaft as she sucked as hard as she could, suddenly wanting him to come in her mouth, wanting badly for him to give her his seed.

Oh, I've never felt this way. I can't believe I'm this hot from just sucking on this wonderful cock.

She squeezed her legs together, wanting badly to touch herself, but she wouldn't let go of his cock or balls to do so.

After a few minutes, Jeff pulled back a little from Caitlin's lips. "I'll come shortly, and I come a lot. If you don't want it in your mouth, just use your hand on me."

By now, Joyce was so hot that she felt like she was going to explode. No way am I taking this beautiful cock out of my mouth,  she thought as she engulfed the head of his cock again, sucking as hard as she could, her lips tight around him and her cheeks hollowing even more.

Jeff had locked his mouth back to Caitlin's, pulling her breasts tight against his side as he felt his prostate cramp, then the rush of semen and sperm through his cock. He moaned into her mouth and jerked as his cock swelled and pulsed. Joyce gulped, swallowed noisily, then coughed and swallowed again. After a while, she stood up, her mouth full, grabbed Caitlin away from a sagging Jeff, and kissed her, pushing the sperm into her lover's mouth.

Caitlin made a sound, but swallowed, then kissed Joyce hard, rubbing her naked breasts to Joyce's. Joyce capped a hand to Caitlin's pussy and slid a finger partway inside. That was all it took. The supposedly hard-to-come Caitlin screamed into Joyce's mouth and thundered into orgasm again.

Guiding the women out of the shower a little later, Jeff stood them on a mat and lovingly dried them as they continued to cling to each other. Kissing Joyce for a second, he bade her follow, then picked Caitlin up and carried her into the bedroom. Placing her on the bed, he picked Joyce up, kissed her, then put her beside her lover.

Before Caitlin quite knew what was happening, he pushed her knees up a bit, and kissed her pussy. She gasped and pushed ineffectually at his head until his tongue wormed its tip into her entrance. The push turned to a pull. Again, he concentrated on sending his love to her, then slowly trailed his tongue toward her clit. After teasing her this way for a minute or two, he caught her little button with his lips and gave it a good thrashing with his tongue.

Her screaming was muffled by her thighs clamped against his ears, but she communicated, anyway — at least for a time, until her air ran out and the world went black. Her knees slumped away from their vise-like grip and she relaxed into unconsciousness.

"Wow," Joyce said in awe. "I wish I could make her do that."

Joyce had been sitting beside Caitlin. Laughing, Jeff grabbed her legs and pulled her into position, then pushed her knees back a little as he had her friend's. Joyce squealed when she realized what he was about to do, but she didn't offer even token resistance.

"Yes," she hissed as his face neared her pussy. "Yes."

In less than five minutes, she was taking a nap beside Caitlin, a light blanket carefully tucked up to their chins.

After putting his clothes back on, smiling, Jeff glanced back at the sleeping women. Turning the lights down and closing the bedroom door, he left the suite.

He considered masturbating, his cock still rock-hard and uncomfortable in his jeans, but knew that Diana would instantly know and chide him for wasting his come when there were so many willing mouths and pussies. Mentally shrugging, he stopped in a bathroom and washed his hands and face. He had nothing against smelling of pussy, but he knew that Bill, Linda and Kathy were due back soon, and he didn't want to embarrass Linda. He doubted that it would embarrass Kathy, though. He figured that young lady could hold her own in a pit of alligators.

Smiling, he went looking for his wives. Life was good.



-------

Chapter 57

TUESDAY AFTERNOON LATE

Jeff walked back to the living room after tucking Joyce and Caitlin in for their impromptu nap. He turned the thermostat down a little and started the already-laid firewood. Relaxing, he sat watching the fire. Shortly, the computer announced that Captain Madison, Kathy and Linda had turned into the driveway. Jeff smiled, glad they were back, hoping that everything had gone well.

A few minutes later, the trio walked into the living room accompanied by all of Jeff's wives, everyone carrying bags. Jeff turned to look, a smile on his face. Suddenly, he had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open.

-------

Monday afternoon had been tense for Bill Madison and Linda, even though Wainwright was still diverting any would-be passengers to the commercial world. Laughing, he said they would appreciate Bill and Kathy more when the jet was released for executive use again.

At Saint Louis, Frank and Margaret went on to the flight office while Linda stayed with the two pilots as they refueled and secured the plane. Inside the building, Kathy hugged father and daughter. Kissing Bill on the cheek, she wished them luck, wanting desperately to go with them. "I'm off to see my friends. You two call me as soon as you hear something, hear?"

After promising that they would, Madison and Linda continued on to the flight office. When they got there, Margaret was sitting on the couch while Wainwright finished his phone conversation at Bill's desk. Hanging up, he turning to Madison.

"I talked to Grierson (Wainwright's corporate attorney) and he just got off the phone with the others. He says everything is set, and they have prepared for everything the three of them can think of, but I can tell he's a little uptight. He hinted that they are expecting your wife's attorney to try something. So watch yourself, and for God's sake, keep your temper. If this blows up, you can carry her ass to court, and we'll dig up all the crap we can on this doctor of hers. Plus, I've got one... big favor I can call in if all else fails. But I don't want to do it, unless there's no choice."

"I'll call my attorney," Bill said, sighing. "I didn't want to discuss this with the attorneys during the trip. I guess it goes without saying that it isn't good to fly with your mind somewhere else," he tried to joke.

Startling Bill, Wainwright got up and hugged him for a second before turning to Linda and hugging her.

Margaret hugged Bill and lightly kissed him on the lips. "You call us as soon as you're out of that meeting. Promise me."

"I will. I promise."

Turning to Linda, Margaret hugged her hard. "It's going to be fine, Baby. You just hold that pretty chin up, and we'll talk to you tomorrow. By Wednesday, you'll be in a fantastic school on top of that beautiful mountain."

When the two executives were gone, Linda turned to her dad, worried. Before she could say anything, Bill interjected, "Let's go by Wal-Mart and get a bunch of soft bags. We need to pack all our clothes tonight so we can leave right after the meeting. Whatever happens in that meeting tomorrow, you're going to be back at the retreat tomorrow night."

"Oh, Daddy, I'm scared..." Linda started.

"Hush, Kitten. Let's go pack. We'll stop and get a big pizza to go so we won't have to leave once we get home."

-------

At home, they packed — stuffed — everything into the soft suitcases they had purchased to supplement the ones they had. It was a melancholy evening, to understate, but eventually they had every item of clothing that they owned in the bags. "We'll wash everything, or send to the cleaners as need be when we get there," Bill said. "And, we're going to put everything on the plane in the morning before we go to that meeting. I don't know ... I'm just a little uneasy about this. Are you sure you got everything?"

"I've got all my clothes, cosmetics, hair drier, even everything out of the shower, and all the little stuff out of my drawers. Besides, our suitcases and bags are stuffed. If we find anything else, we'll have to buy something to put it in," she tried to tease, but neither of them even grinned.

Suddenly she flung herself into Bills arms, staggering him as she stood with him in the master bedroom. "Oh, Daddy. What's happened to us? We used to be so happy. Why did Momma do this to us?"

"I don't know, Baby. I don't know," Bill kept repeating as he held his daughter tight to him with one hand and stroked her head and hair with the other.

Later, they ate pizza and tried to watch a movie, but both were tired and couldn't get their minds off what was going on in their lives.

"I'm going to my room," Linda said, kissing her dad.

"Okay, Kitten, I'll see you first thing in the morning. We'll go out for a nice breakfast wherever you want, then put our bags on the plane."

After Linda left, Bill tried to focus on the movie, but after a few minutes, gave up. Walking up the stairs and down the hall in his sock feet, he noticed that Linda's door was open. I might as well give her another hug. She's going through Hell right now, to say the least.

As he started to walk into her room, he hesitated at the doorway. Linda was sitting on her bed, her iPod in hand, staring at the screen. The look on her face said it all as she stared lovingly at a picture of Dave. As Bill watched, the picture changed to one of Evie, then a shot of the both of them playing guitars.

For the first time in a while, the father looked objectively at his daughter. I keep saying that she's growing up. Hell that's a cliché — "growing up." The problem is that she has grown up. I'm looking at a young woman. Where has my little Kitten gone? Her breasts are full and proud, and that's a knockout figure she has. Jimmy taking her cherry, in the backseat of his car — no fucking way.

Backing out of the doorway, he quietly made his way down the hall, not wanting to disturb her musing. Inside his bedroom, he glanced at the bed, thinking of his wife. We made love on that a lot of times. Jill used to scream so loud that I worried that the neighbors would hear and call the cops. Smiling, he remembered that it was her idea for him to go outside and listen while she screamed to the top of her lungs. He couldn't hear anything a few feet from the house, so he went back inside — and they made Linda that day.

His eyes welled up and he shook his head, scattering tears. He wasn't sure whether he was sad or angry. How could she do this? I've heard people talk about soul mates. I thought we were. Now this. For the last year, she has treated me like she hates me. What did I do? I haven't messed around on her. Oh, sure, I've looked at a good-looking woman now and again, but it hasn't even crossed my mind to do anything. I was gone a lot of the time, but she knew that I loved her — still love her.

Sighing, he took a shower, then flopped onto the bed.

The phone woke him the next morning.

"Madison," he mumbled, trying to get his mind into gear after having tossed and turned for hours before finally going to sleep.

"Hi, Bill," Kathy said. "Did you hear anything after I left, yesterday?"

"Yeah. But not much. Still scheduled for the same time."

"Why don't I treat you guys to breakfast this morning?"

Bill chuckled. "I've already told Linda we could eat anywhere she wished. Hang on a sec and let me ask her what's she decided, and we'll all eat together."

The company SUV stuffed with their bags, they met Kathy at the IHOP closest to the airport. It was a tossup as to which one of them was the most nervous. Bill sat brooding, hashing old memories, but trying unsuccessfully to project confidence in front of his daughter.

Kathy was both pleased that Bill would probably soon be divorced and sick that his family was breaking up. Torn, she was miserable. She looked at the handsome man sitting across from her and wondered if she would ever be his wife. She felt a flush of happiness for a second, then a flood of guilt.

Beside Kathy, Linda couldn't be still. She swung her leg back and forth, caught herself, then did it again. She wasn't sure her stomach was going to accept her breakfast, but after a little the queasiness slacked off. She looked out the window to see a couple, probably in their late twenties, as they got out of their vehicle with their two kids. They were all laughing as the man picked up the little boy. Putting him on his shoulders, holding onto the child's legs to keep him safe, the father jogged toward the door pretending to be a horsey.

Linda unconsciously sighed aloud as she remembered a picture of her at about that age sitting astride her father's shoulders.

Kathy looked a question at her.

Linda nodded in the direction of the couple as they came into the restaurant. "Just remembering," she quietly said.

"I wish I could go with you," Kathy hinted.

"Not a good idea," Bill replied, "I'm sure my wife would have a field day."

"Well, I'll be at the office. I can't just sit at home and wait. I know I've asked you a half dozen times, but please call me as soon as you know something."

As she got up to leave, Kathy wanted to hug him, but settled for squeezing both their hands.

-------

The attorney's office was on the fourth floor of a smaller building away from the downtown area. As Madison and Linda walked into the waiting room, Jill and the doctor (Bill had found out that his name was Ingels) were sitting together in a corner.

Linda glared at him as they passed, but followed her dad, who leaned over and whispered in the receptionist's ear, "I need to see him right now."

She took one look at Bill's face and said, "Yes, Sir. I'll be right back."

Shortly, Bill and Linda were seated in the attorney's office. Without preamble, Bill snapped, "That son-of-a-bitch is with her. He will not be in the meeting. If he is, there won't be a meeting."

The attorney leaned back in his seat steepling his fingers. "Your wife has asked that he be allowed to be present. It might be better if you didn't antagonize..."

"He's there; I'm not," Bill slowly enunciated as he leaned forward.

The attorney put his hand up in resignation, "Okay. I'll tell her attorney. As I've told you before, you're being more than generous with her. I'm almost positive that she'll settle for less than you're offering. You need to be sure of this before we walk into that meeting."

Madison leaned back, crossed his legs and looked at his daughter sitting beside him. "Problem is, I still have ... feelings for her. We were partners for a long time. I'm not going to look back on this later and think about how I messed over her."

"All right. We'll go forward with it. My receptionist will put you in another office until the meeting. We don't want a scene in the waiting room. As soon as her attorney gets here, I'll tell him what you said."

-------

The meeting didn't go well. Bill's attorneys laid out what he had offered, but now Jill suddenly wanted full custody of Linda, and was willing to go to court for it, despite the abandonment issues. The hour dragged by with Jill unrelenting.

Afterward, Bill and Linda stood in a little alcove at the end of the hallway waiting for the elevator, both of them more than a little depressed. Their hopes had been shattered by the unexpected turnaround about custody.

The office was in an older building that had been redone recently, but it was easy to see that the construction either hadn't been complete, or wasn't done yet. While they looked around, Jill and her doctor walked up.

Jill ignored them, just looked out the window at the end of the hall, but the doctor stood arrogantly leering at Linda. Bill watched his eyes leave Linda's face, then halt on her breasts for an extended period of time, then slowly track down her body to her groin.

Before Bill hardly realized what he was doing, he took the two steps between them, grabbed the guy by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Pushing upward, he raised the 5' 9", one-hundred-and-sixty pound man upward, leaving his feet a couple of inches off the floor.

Jill turned and stared, but otherwise did nothing.

Doctor Ingels frantically grabbed Bill's wrist with both his hands, pulling as hard as he could, but he might as well have been trying to push the building over for all the good it did in breaking Bill's grip. He did, however, manage to get a little air past the big hand, since Bill wasn't actively trying to choke him, just holding him up by his neck.

As Ingels tried to kick Bill in the groin, the pilot slammed him against the wall again, this time smacking his head hard against the unyielding brickwork.

Ingels eyes lost focus. With his face only inches from Ingels', Bill said, his voice deep with emotion, "You perverted bastard. I don't know what my wife sees in you. But I promise you — and check around, I'm a man of my word — I promise you that you won't live out the day that my wife gets custody of Linda. The look on your face just then told it all. You will not have my daughter. That's a promise. I'll see you in Hell first. Try me!" Bill almost shouted. Spitting in Ingels' face, he turned him loose. Ingels slumped in a corner gasping for breath, holding his throat.

"What's going on here?" Jill's attorney yelled, having walked out of the office into the hallway.

Madison just stood glaring at Ingels.

"It's ... nothing," Ingels got out. "Just my asthma acting up a little," he wheezed.

The elevator finally arrived. Bill took Linda by the hand, but she pulled back, walking up to her mother, instead. "You bitch. You ruined our lives over that ... that ... piece of shit."

Bill pulled her on into the elevator as he saw the tears start. He whacked the button while staring at Jill who had begun to cry, herself. Quietly he said to Linda, "Hang tight, Baby. Hang tight. Don't let them see you cry. You can do it in the car. Hang tight."

The elevator doors finally closed. A few minutes later in the SUV in the parking deck, Linda buried her face in her father's chest and sobbed.

After a while, they pulled themselves together and left the deck. "Well, I guess we might as well go on back to Boulder. The attorneys will get things set up to go to court, but I'm going to put you in school. The juvenile judge will go with it. We'll see what happens after that, I guess."

Linda sat looking out the window as they turned onto the street. "Can we go by the house? I'm pretty sure I left some stuff in the pool house, and I forgot to look around the hot tub, too."

Bill sighed. "Okay, Kitten. I guess I want to have another look, too."

"Are you going to call Kathy?"

Bill took a breath, then slowly let it out. "No. Not right now. I just don't want to talk about it now. I'll call her later."

Halfway across town, Bill's cell rang.

"Madison."

Bill listened for a moment, then said, "Okay, twenty minutes. We'll be back."

Closing the phone, he glanced at his daughter. "They returned and signed the papers. I need to get back and sign them. The judge is waiting."

Linda's face broke into a grin for the first time that day. "Looks like kicking his ass worked."

"Language. Language," Bill admonished, but both of them knew it was just the parent gene kicking in.

-------

Later, an elated father and daughter opened the door to their house. Madison held the door for her, but Linda suddenly stopped just past the foyer.

"Baby, what's... Oh, shit!"

Bill hurried down the hall, then up the stairs, slamming doors open as he went.

Linda ran into the kitchen, then the laundry room. Whirling around, she flew up the stairs to her room where she stood for a second, "Daddeee," she wailed.

Madison came back a few minutes later. "Everything," he said, "Absolutely everything. That rotten no-good bastard. They couldn't have done this after the little scene by the elevator. They had to have been watching for us to leave this morning. And you can't sell used furniture, no matter how good it is, and get much out of it. They did this just to hurt."

"But I loved my furniture."

Bill stopped for a moment, trying to calm himself. He must try to ease things for his daughter. "Do you like what you have at the retreat?" he asked, trying to get her to realize that all was not lost.

Bill almost held his breath. She had picked her furniture out by herself after poring over magazines and going to showrooms for months before she had finally settled on what she wanted. He expected her to collapse into him at any second. They would have to sit on the floor while he held her. There wasn't anything left inside the house. They had even taken the kitchen and washing appliances, cutting the hoses on the washer rather than taking time to disconnect it.

Linda looked up at her dad, her face like stone. "This wasn't my mom. Even the mom she's become. This was that bastard. But he will not hurt me. I have a fabulous suite at the retreat. My bedroom is beautiful. This was a little girl's room. It's gone now, but I have you, my beautiful bedroom, and Dave and Evie. That bastard will not hurt me. I won't give him the satisfaction."

Bill tried to take her into his arms, but she pulled away. "I won't cry any more today. I'm not a little girl, anymore. He took it away. Let's go home," she finished, her voice dead.

-------

They called Kathy and told her the good news — and the bad, then called Wainwright and Margaret, repeating.

Later at the office, Bill took Kathy aside. "Kathy, would you do me a favor?"

She looked back at him, her forehead crinkling into a slight frown. "You know I will. What's wrong?"

"I'm not trying to keep anything from you. You're far too close a ... friend for that. But I would like to discuss something with Linda. Something that I've made up my mind about. We can talk about it later..."

"Call me on my cell. I won't be far," Kathy quickly said. Hugging him, she was out the door.

Linda was sitting on the couch, so Bill sat beside her. "I need to talk to you about some things."

Linda looked over at her dad, her eyes sad. "Another lecture about Dave?"

Pulling her against his side, then leaving his arm around her, he answered, "Well, he's part of it, but you're way off base. I need to talk to you about a little trip that Jeff and Diana took me on...

-------

Thirty minutes later, Linda asked, "And you believe all that?"

Bill sighed. "It's hard to swallow, but..." Standing up, he slipped off his tie, jacket and shirt. Turning his back, "Pull my tee shirt up in the back," he instructed.

Linda pulled the shirt up and looked at him for a second, then it dawned on her, "Your back," she exclaimed. "It's ... it's ... All that new pink skin. What happened? How could..."

Pulling his tee shirt back down, he stuffed it into his pants. "Diana told me to not be hardheaded or there would be ... consequences. I've thought about this a lot. Seeing that..."

"My ears aren't that delicate," Linda sniggered. "Just say it."

Bill looked at his daughter with a bemused expression, "Well, I've been calling him a bastard all day. No sense in changing now, I guess ... Seeing that bastard staring at you like that got me off my ass in more ways than one."

Linda snickered. "I really liked the sound his head made hitting that wall. And his face was turning all mottled looking there for a while."

Bill chuckled. "Well, I guess you could say he did piss me off a little."

Linda giggled. "That was a little?"

Motioning to the couch, Bill said, "Yeah, well. Oh, heck, let's forget that for now. Let's sit back down. Do you want some coffee?"

"I thought that you said that little girls shouldn't drink much coffee."

"Like I said, do you want some coffee?" he repeated, an unfathomable look on his face.

Linda stared at him for a second, sat back on the couch and looked at her dad. "Yes, please. I'd like a cup about now." she said, suddenly very formal, knowing that her father was sending her a message, but not quite sure what it was.

A little later, they sat on the couch drinking their coffee, Bill refusing to pick up the conversation where he left off. Finally, he took Linda's half-full cup and put it on the end table next to his. "Do me a big favor," Bill said looking straight ahead. "Tell me to make a lap, and sit there while I talk to you."

Linda stood, looked at her father for an instant, then said, "Made a lap, Daddy," then plopped down.

"Ummp. You're getting heavy," he teased, as he had said many times in the past when she sat on his lap. Then, "I haven't gotten you anything for your birthday. Oh, I'll get you something before Friday, but I'm going to give you your real birthday gift now."

Linda stared at him, saying nothing, wondering.

"I realized last night, that I no longer have a little girl. Instead, I have a beautiful young woman that is my daughter. So to skew the verse a little — well, a lot — it's time for me to put away my childish thoughts about my daughter. Has Dave kissed you?"

"Daddee. Of course not. He's married."

"Yeah, and what did we just talk about?"

Linda just stared at him.

"I saw you looking at his picture. Well, his and Evie's. A little girl might have a crush on him. But I'm going to take this young woman at her word that she doesn't have crushes any more. There's a dress shop not too far from here — a very nice one. It's time that you showed Dave the young woman that you are. Let's pick up Kathy and go shopping."

-------

Jeff came to his feet trying not to make a fool of himself by staring.

An alluring young woman stood before him. Linda was dressed in a mid-thigh, black skirt, sheer hose, a tight white top with plunging neckline, and two and half inch black strap heels. A gold pendant hung between her breasts, with thin gold dangle earrings sparkling at her ears, her hair freshly done. A small black shoulder purse completed her outfit. The ensemble screamed class as she held her head high, a smile just touching the corners of her mouth.

"Breathtaking," he quietly said, staring at her, anyway. "You are truly breathtaking."

Linda's smile increased. "Thank you kind sir," she teased, affecting an abbreviated curtsy, then laughing her tinkling laugh.

Before anyone could say anything, Dave and Evie walked in, "Boss, I ... uh..."

Dave and Linda stared at each other. After a few seconds of silence, Linda boldly walked over, and with both hands grabbed Dave's head, kissed him hard for a good ten seconds, then turned, picked up one of her bags and walked proudly out the door with her hips swaying enticingly. Kathy, and Jeff's wives, smirking, resumed their baggage procession and followed.

Evie's face was red.

Dave's face was purple.

"Wow," Evie said.

"Yeah..." Dave said staring toward the door.

Madison spoke to Dave and Evie. Motioning with his head toward the hallway, "Come on. The three of us need to talk," Bill firmly said.

"Oh, shit," Dave said.

"No, 'oh shit.' If you're going to be my son-in-law, we need to talk."

Dave tripped over the bag Linda had left near the door.

"She didn't leave that by accident," Bill said.

"I, uh..." Dave said with fine intelligence.

Madison choked back a laugh. Yeah, the love I saw in Linda's face last night goes both ways. Glancing at Evie, he amended, Well, make that three ways.

"Come on," Madison said, nudging Dave's arm and nodding to the bag. "Pick it up. We can talk for a few minutes, then you and Evie can take her the bag. After that, you're on your own."

-------

A little later, a much confused Dave took his wife by the hand, picked up Linda's bag and walked across the hall. Kathy instantly answered the door when Dave knocked.

"She's in her bedroom waiting for you. Good luck. Now I'm going to corner my boss. Wish me luck," she finished, walking past them.

Dave meant to wish her luck, but somehow, nothing came out of his mouth.

"Oh, crap," he hissed as the outer door to the suite closed behind them. "I haven't got the foggiest notion what to say."

Evie grabbed his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. "Do you love her?"

"Damnit, Evie. I've only know her a few days. She's fifteen for crying out loud..."

"Doggonit, Dave. Answer me. Do you love her?"

Throwing caution to the winds, as they say, Dave stared down at his pretty little wife. Sighing, he managed, "Yes. I don't understand why, and don't even think about my not loving you. But, yeah, somehow, I'm madly in love with her."

"And it not just a hard dick for a pretty girl that's sixteen this Friday?" Evie asked, a strange quality to her voice.

Dave stared at her. "No. I can't believe..."

"Oh, hush, Big Man. I was just messing with you. You were getting all uptight there. I know my man better than that. Okay, so you love her. Go tell her."

" ... Tell her," he tried to say, his voice breaking.

"Oh, for Pete's sake. I've seen you go nose to nose with a pissed off guy with a crowbar. And now you're scared of a pretty little girl."

Dave thought for a second. "Yeah, that's about it," he very sincerely said.

Evie stared at the serious look on his face as she struggled not to laugh. "Oh, pooh. I was upset until we started this conversation, now I'm just amazed. You weren't a bit afraid when you came after me."

"Hah. That's all you know," Dave responded.

"Oh, really? I'll have to hear more about this when we have time. But now you need to pick up that bag you just put down and carry it to her," she said, pointing. "Just think, it's probably full of sexy little panties and bras. Bras that will hold the breasts that one day will have milk for your baby," she teased.

Dave's face turned ashen.

"Oh, go on silly. I'm just messing with you. My tits are going to be full of milk first. But there's nothing wrong with your sucking both of us and pretending."

Evie handed him the bag, since he still hadn't picked it up, grabbed his arm and tugged. "Come on. Your Queen Bitch has spoken," she teased. "Let's go check out the first addition to your harem."



-------

Chapter 58

Dave and Evie stopped at the door to Linda's bedroom, Dave's hand poised to knock. Looking down at his petite, but dynamite little wife, he said, "Last chance, Baby."

"Claim your new wife," Evie said, squeezing his arm.

"I'm not going to have sex with her, now."

"I know that, silly. We need to have the healer with her, first. It wouldn't be right to impregnate her, yet. But claim her. I'm as anxious as you are."

Dave tapped on the door and they entered.

Linda was sitting by the bed, minus her heels, her legs crossed in a ladylike manner. Dave wasn't sure what the expression on her face meant.

"You forgot your bag," he hesitantly said.

A smile tweaked the corners of her mouth. "I didn't forget anything."

Dave put the bag down, but couldn't think of anything to say, his body seemed numb, although he did feel the stinging pinch that Evie delivered to the inside of his upper arm.

When he still didn't move, exasperated, Evie walked past him to stop before Linda. Bending over, she lightly kissed Linda's lips. "I've brought your future husband. You might have to give him a nudge though, he seems a little tongue-tied right now."

Linda's mind swam with the things that her father had told her, and the things that Evie had hinted at over the weekend, not to say anything about what Evie had just said. These people were serious about the Alphas. Fighting to repress a giggle, she stood, the tall man rooted to the spot, blushing like a kid.

"He's really quite intelligent," Evie said, loud enough for Dave to hear, also. "But I think all the blood has drained from his brain and gone south for the moment," she teased.

Linda blushed, her eyes glancing downward in spite of herself.

Dave grunted out a sound, then took the three steps separating them. Glancing once more at his wife, who nodded, he tilted Linda's face up and brought his mouth close to hers. Hesitating, watching as she slowly closed her eyes, he touched his lips to hers. Then wrapping his arms around the girl/woman before him, he pulled her tight against his muscular chest.

Before he quite realized it, he was lost in the kiss. Obviously she wasn't very experienced, but as his tongue touched her lips asking for entrance, she parted hers slightly. When he pushed his tongue past her lips, she wasn't hesitant, though.

She squealed a little into his mouth as his instincts and years of making love to Evie took over and he scooped her into his arms without breaking the kiss. The kiss was broken momentarily as he put her gently on the bed, but before she could say anything, he was lying facing her and she was again enveloped in his arms. The kiss resumed.

Evie pulled off his shoes. Then his wife moved to lie behind Linda to cuddle her and whisper into her ear as the kiss continued. He tried to project love as things heated up. He could feel Linda squirming against him; feel her breasts and hard nipples against his chest, and after a little while could smell both Evie and Linda. Passion roared to life in his body, threatening to cloud his mind. He wanted to touch Linda's breasts, to cup her sex in his hand, but was afraid to do either, lest he not be able to stop.

After a time, he reluctantly broke the kiss, noting that her lips were puffy, her eyes hooded. She shivered as she clung to him. He was just as shaken as she was, but somehow he managed to get words out of his mouth. "We've got to stop for now. Evie and I made vows that I have to keep." Seeing Evie frown, he quickly continued as Linda stared at him as he felt another pinch, this time on his leg.

Dave cleared his throat, looking his wife in the eye for a second before focusing on Linda. "Linda, will you marry me?"

She made a sound in her throat and her eyes instantly became pools of tears. "Yes," she mumbled, burying her face against his neck, her arms clamping them together like a vise. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

Evie's hand that had pinched him slipped now between them to caress his dick that was as hard as she had ever felt it.

"Will you marry me as well?" Dave heard his wife ask Linda.

By then, Dave's mind was teetering on overload. He felt Linda turn in his arms to hug Evie, their mouths seeking each other for a couple of seconds.

"I don't know if I can make love to a woman," Linda whispered.

Evie's sparkling eyes stared back at the teenager. "I'm in the same boat. I'm not bi, either. We can marry without doing that. We can love each other and love our man, just as we're doing now," she said, continuing to stroke Dave's cock.

"In that case," Linda laughed, "a resounding yes," she said hugging Evie tight. Then quietly she continued, "My dad just ... just ... He suddenly started treating me like an adult. He had already talked about what Jeff and Diana had told him." Linda turned on her back, looking at first one, then the other, as Evie played with Linda's hair, staring at her with a tender smile on her face.

"I almost couldn't believe him. But I guess that he's always been that way. When he makes up his mind, he goes ahead with it. You should have seen his face when I asked him if he had rather Jimmy take my ... uh..."

" ... virginity," Evie supplied.

"Uh, yeah," Linda said, blushing furiously as she looked at Dave, who matched her when he realized what she meant.

"Well, anyway ... he hates Jimmy. Dad calls him a punk because he rides around the neighborhood with his stereo wide open, playing dirty music. Every time he sees me outside, he tries to get me to go out with him, saying a bunch of lewd things, claiming that he's going to take my, uh, cherry and show me what a real man is like. But he's never touched me, or tried to force me in any way."

Dave cleared his throat, "Well, I guess I don't blame your dad for hating this punk, but, uh, I think it was a bit more than that..."

"Oh, I know that," Linda laughed. "But I still think that the Jimmy thing had an effect. But Daddy wants me to be safe, and he likes you two. He said that he saw me looking at your pictures last night and realized then that I loved you Dave, and that his little girl had grown up."

Looking back at Evie, she continued, "He also said that it was obvious that I loved you, and of course knew that Jeff's wives were all married to each other as well as Jeff. He got all embarrassed when he tried to talk about our relationship, but finally said that you and I were both smart and would figure out what worked for us.

"I guess that I'm still ... I don't know ... stunned. I wanted to be here so badly, and I wanted to be your wife," she said, touching Dave's cheek with her fingertips as she looked at him lovingly, "but I didn't know how I was going to make it happen. Then Daddy just..."

Evie laughed and hugged her. "I wish you could have been in his suite when he was lecturing Dave — well, both of us. After a while he just stopped, looked sheepish, then asked us if we loved you. I guess he believed us," she said, holding back a giggle, "because he told us to get the hell over there and tell you. Of course, there were tears in his eyes that he was trying to hide."

"Awesome," Linda whispered. "He's always been able to surprise me. But this was way beyond that. But now," she said, hesitating again, "I'm scared to death for another reason ... I don't know a thing about being a wife. I can cook a few things, and Mom taught me how to clean and wash clothes properly. But, I mean ... I'm, uh, feeling a lot like a kid right now. I have absolutely no experience with uh, sex..."

Before Dave could say anything, Evie broke in with a smile, "I guess you never stop learning about sex. And you'll have a great teacher," she said, barely above a whisper as she smiled at her husband.

"So show me more about how a man kisses," Linda said, a smile in her voice as she turned to Dave.

Dave cleared his throat, forcing his eyes from her breasts to her face. "A little more. I'm only a man. Two breathtaking women in bed with me, and our talking about what we have ... Well, like I said, I'm only a man."

He brought his mouth to Linda's, then as passion rose again, he pulled her tightly to him. After a moment, he felt a second hand join the one slowly stroking his cock. When he looked down, Evie put her hand over Linda's and guided her caresses to show her how.

Linda pulled her mouth from Dave's and tried to look between them, her body tensing.

"Don't worry," Evie said, chuckling. "He'll be gentle, and it won't be long until you won't want him to be gentle. And when he spurts his semen into you, you'll have an orgasm beyond anything you could ever imagine. And ... despite what he says, he's more than 'just a man;' he's also an Alpha Male," she finished proudly.

Evie had seen Linda's eyes get big when she mentioned Dave spraying his semen into her. Smiling, she kissed Linda's forehead and continued, "Diana firmly believes that Dave is an Alpha Male. He's changed a lot, since ... Well, Diana believes that their ... traits are coming back to life. That each Alpha will have a Queen Bitch. We need to talk," she said stroking Linda's cheek.

Evie looked at the pretty girl staring back at her. "Bill told us that he told you about everything, but I want to make sure that you hear it from me, in case he missed something."

Linda turned back to face Evie, their faces only a little more than a foot apart. With Dave's chest against her back and his hand gently stroking her arm, then sometimes her hip and leg, Linda listened with rapt attention as Evie told the story of the Alpha Males and their Queens, this time in much more detail than Bill knew, but she still didn't mention the healer directly.

-------

Kathy had been sorely stressed all day. Starting with her watching Linda fight to keep her food down at breakfast, seeing the pain and tension in Bill's face, then not being able to go with the man she loved as he went to that all-important meeting, had taken its toll on the new pilot. The phone call from Bill telling her that Jill had signed the divorce, first elated her and at the same time, shamed her. Then came the thing about the house.

Bill had lost so much of his life when Jill had signed those papers — well, it was the culmination of his loss. Bill still loved his wife (ex-wife, she mentally corrected herself — at least she would be when the divorce was final). But Kathy wasn't going to sit back and let someone else have a chance at him. He wasn't young any more, but she had had young, and had gotten herself thoroughly messed over by him.

In addition to being madly in love with him, she knew his character. Bill's word was indeed his bond. She had watched women try for him at exclusive hotels throughout the continental U.S., Hawaii and Canada. He was polite to them, ever the gentleman, but he always went back to his room alone, his wedding vows firmly intact.

He had a great physique, often worked out while they were waiting for Wainwright's people. In a bathing suit, he always wore a tee shirt to hide most of the scarring, but it didn't hide that he was a man. Nor did the trunks.

Having watched him walk through the airport in his uniform time and again, she could attest that women liked what they saw then as well, but her attraction to him was much more than good looks. He never seemed flustered. He was always in command, yet not blatantly so. People listened when he spoke. He was certainly not full of himself, either.

He had always been kind to her, respectful — didn't have the arrogance that she frequently saw around her from some of the other pilots. He had encouraged her as soon as she told him that she wanted to become a pilot, and he had readily volunteered to teach her. She knew how much he charged others, but when she tried to pay him, he adamantly refused, saying she was a friend, and he would never charge a friend.

She had repeatedly gotten breaks on rentals and fuel. He had denied having anything to do with it, but she suspected that he had supplemented the difference, for some of the rental pricing was just too good to be true. Even if he hadn't actually put his money into it, she thought that he might have been calling in favors for her.

He never fussed at her when she screwed up, just gently chided her with that grin of his, and showed her the correct way. Then came the day that he gave her the pilot's uniform. Nothing would ever replace the feeling as the tower cleared them and her captain told her to take them to Boulder — nothing.

She had taken a shower, almost frantically scrubbing herself to be certain she was clean — especially ... there — put on a little makeup, quickly done her hair, touched perfume to her throat, and waited, her mind going over the events of the day.

Bill had settled for nothing but the best at an exclusive dress shop after asking Kathy to help with everything, so that Linda would look great for Dave and Evie. In the beginning, it had been a tossup as to whether it was Linda or her that had been more amazed about him dressing Linda for Dave, but neither of them let that get in the way of getting the job done, though.

"It's too late to get a beauty shop appointment," Bill had said.

"I'll do it on the plane," Kathy quickly injected. And she did.

Bill had talked about what Diana and Jeff had told him. When he was done, Kathy just grinned at him and said, "I've always known that you were an Alpha." At Bill's look, she continued, "Oh, I didn't think to call it that, but I knew you were different."

Bill had just stared at her for a moment. "Look Kathy, every fighter jock thinks he or she is the best. To even get to the training, they've beaten out a lot of people, and that's before the training. If they don't think they're the best, then they shouldn't be in that cockpit. I've tried to tone it down after I got out of the military, but you're just seeing a little of that mentality. Let's not get carried away with it. I'm long past that. I'm forty-four..."

Kathy just smiled up at him. "Bullshit."

Bills voice faltered, "Uh, back to the subject at hand. My daughter is in love with Dave. I respect Mr. Wainwright. He thinks that Jeff is ... hell, I don't know ... all there is, I guess. And Dave isn't far behind as far as Mr. Wainwright is concerned. They're all special, Dave certainly included. Linda has always been a lot more grown up than any of her friends her age. She is adamant that she loves him. If you factor in all that Diana and Jeff told me — and they believe it without a doubt — then I guess her Alpha is calling her. I've never seen her react like this, and heck, Dave looks like a truck has hit him. And ... I have a growing respect for both Dave and Evie. It's obvious that they're good people."

He stopped for a moment, then, "Is she still asleep?"

Kathy had unbuckled and moved out of the seat enough to look in the back. "Yeah, sacked out," she had said, buckling back up.

"I may be wrong in this," Bill sighed, "but she's been through enough. She's almost frantic for Dave, and ... Evie seems to accept her — well, I guess, more than accept her. After what the Matthews said, I'm just ... going to go with it. In one respect, it seems crazy to even think about letting my daughter become part of a multiple marriage, then again, when I see them together, it just seems right." Grinning, he added, "and that punk down the street from us is not going to get my daughter's virginity."

They had talked on for a while, then Kathy said, "I need to do her hair. We want her father to be proud of her when her new husband sees her."

Bill had sighed and said, "I have the controls."

Kathy's mind a turmoil as the events of the day played in her mind, she raised a hand, hesitated, then knocked soundly on Bill Madison's door.

-------

A little later, Bill and Kathy sat on the couch in his sitting room. There was a little space between them, but they didn't look at each other, just held their soft drinks and stared toward the coffee table.

"I just sent a man more than twice my daughter's age to her room to seduce her," Bill said, sotto voice, continuing to stare ahead.

"He won't seduce her tonight," Kathy said, her voice almost equally without feeling.

"Yeah, he told me he wouldn't, but I'm not sure about my daughter seducing him."

"There is that," Kathy agreed. "You can see love on her face every time she's around Dave."

"Yeah," he agreed, taking a sip of coke that he didn't taste.

"When do you think they'll be married?" Kathy asked, taking a sip as well, her mind far from the conversation.

"Evie said, soon. She said they would wait until Linda was sixteen, though. Her birthday is Friday."

"Short engagement," Kathy offered.

"Yeah," Bill said, frowning, his mind mostly on what his imagination was telling him was going on across the hall.

"It will be good for her to have a husband. She seems more adult mentally than the girls her age that I've seen — well, with the exception of the Matthews." After a moment, she added, "The Hensons and the Matthews will take care of her while we're gone."

"Yeah," Bill agreed again, continuing to stare into space.

Kathy sighed, "I never thought about multiple marriages before coming up here. I guess I thought that only Mormons and kooks did things like that. But it's obvious that the Matthews all love each other. They make it seem — normal. Most of the time, when I'm around them now, I don't even think about it. I guess it isn't much of a stretch to find out that Evie is okay with it, too."

"Yeah," Bill said, his diction in a rut. Trying to shake himself, mentally, he continued, "Evie did most of the talking while they were here. Dave just seemed like ... he was out of it, or something. Hell, I think the guy is as shocked as I am. I was going to lecture him about my daughter, and tried for awhile, but I couldn't seem to get it said. Even I could tell that I wasn't making a lot of sense. He just sat there looking like he expected me to threaten to kill him at any moment, or something. They looked like two kids asking the girl's father for permission to marry. Evie never quit holding his hand."

Sighing, Bill took another tasteless sip. "That damned doctor changed his mind and wanted Jill to get custody of Linda so he could get a shot at fu ... uh, Linda. I just know he did. After seeing the look on his face as he stared at Linda ... Well, that son-of-a-bitch will never be in the same house with her. Now it won't just be me protecting her. She'll be way over here in Colorado with Dave to protect her while I'm gone, not to say anything about Jeff. And I pity the poor bastard that tries to mess with Jeff's women, and I suspect that protection will extend to Linda as well. I guess my little girl is soon to be a woman, but she'll be a safe woman."

Bill turned to look Kathy in the face for a moment, "And before you say anything, no, that's only a small part of the reason that I gave up and sent Dave in to her. She loves him, and it's obvious that both he and Evie love her."

Bill suddenly put his drink on the table, leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "I hope I haven't fucked up. Hell, it just seemed... right. I can't put it all into words. All of a sudden, I just realized that Dave was the man for her. I know it! And it's time." Turning again to look at Kathy, he continued, "But giving up my little girl isn't easy," he finished, fighting to keep his voice from breaking.

"So, how are you giving her up?" Kathy found herself asking, wanting Bill to see things in a little different light.

"Well, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean. She'll be living just down the hall in Dave and Evie's apartment. She won't be across town, in another city, or another state. Do you think she'll love you less for having sent Dave to her tonight?"

Bill sighed. "I know all that, of course. It's just..."

"That your little girl has grown up. She's sixteen Friday, and she's older than that mentally. I strongly suspect that she'll still sit in Daddy's lap about as much as she does now. And as for the sex, I guess most parents — especially fathers — don't want to think about their daughters having sex. But would you want her to go through life without experiencing the love between her and her mate?"

"Kathy, I..."

" ... love your little girl and want her to always be your little girl," she finished for him. "And she will be, even when her belly is swelled with Dave's baby," she just had to throw that in to see the shock on Bill's face.

Taking Bill's hand, she continued, "I'll bet that there will be a glow on her face to rival anything you've ever seen, on the morning after her wedding night. Obviously, Dave isn't stupid. Look around you at this fabulous building that Mr. Wainwright trusted him to build. We've been in a lot of upscale hotels — you more than I — but none of them compare to this. Look at Evie's face the next time you see her look at Dave. I don't know how long they've been married, but I guess it's ten years or more, and she is still madly in love with him."

Kathy squeezed Bill's hand and slid closer to him on the couch. "I bought Momma a car yesterday afternoon."

"Your mother? Well that's good."

"No, not my mother — Momma. My mother and step-dad aren't even in the state."

"Oh, the lady that lives next door to your apartment?"

"Yeah. I owe her a lot. Sometimes when I was ... a little short, she even fixed meals for me."

"She what? Damn, Kathy. Why didn't you tell me? You know damn well that I would..."

"Yeah, I know," she said, squeezing his hand again. "But she figured out that I was short. I told her about the flying lessons from the beginning. She's never had a new car — never, and I owe her a lot. It's just a small SUV — nothing expensive, but it's paid for, thanks to Mr. Wainwright's bonus.

"When I first moved in, some of the guys in the neighborhood hassled me. She and her sons put a stop to it. And I mean, it stopped. She and I talked a lot. She treated me like the daughter that she didn't have. And her sons never hit on me. They treated me like a sister, looking out for me all the time. I can never repay her for what she's done for me."

Bill put his arm around Kathy. "You're a class act, little lady."

"Bullshit. I was just working my ass off so I could be your copilot." She grinned at him when she said it, but Bill wasn't sure whether she was kidding or not.

"What about this suddenly knowing that Linda should be Dave's wife? Tell me more about that."

"Well, it's no big deal. I was just thinking about it after seeing Linda looking at their picture, and I guess it's just logical. I knew. By this morning, I was certain."

"Is that how you knew about that plane when we had just left Atlanta?"

"What plane?" Bill tried to say, as if he didn't know what she meant.

"When we had picked up Jennie, Melissa and Ann in Atlanta to bring them to Arlene's birthday. I thought at first that you were playing fighter jock, but then I got to thinking. Later, I asked Oakland about it. He said that someone had screwed up and was in our airspace. He said you suddenly banked and turned hard — then he saw the other plane. He said that there was no way that you could have seen it because the fuselage of our plane kept you from seeing it. But you turned, anyway.

"He was totally mystified, and I think a little pissed that he couldn't figure out how you had known. Of course, he was also pleased that we weren't dead." After a moment, she asked, "How did you know that plane was there, Bill?"

"Look, Kathy," Bill said, sounding a little exasperated. "It's called experience. Sometimes you just know."

"Bullshit," Kathy came back. "Has it happened before? I know it has, or you would probably have been more verbal about it with Oakland. He said that you just laughed it off. I think it got his ego a little. He always thinks he's hot stuff, anyway, but the 'old man' just saved his ass and sluffed it off, not making a big deal out of it like he would have if he had been the one to do it."

Warming to her subject, she continued, "I'll bet it's happened in combat, hasn't it? Other times in your life, like suddenly deciding that Dave is the way to go with your daughter? Diana says that Jeff does it sometimes. Doesn't take a genius to tell that it's an Alpha Male trait."

She smiled and leaned back. "I've noticed something else about Alpha Males that distinguishes them from the wannabees."

Madison looked at her without expression, afraid to ask.

"Oh, I've seen several top executives on TV, and personally, who thought they were better than everyone else — it was obvious. God's-gift-to-women kinda guys. Alpha wannabees, if they had ever thought about the Alpha Male term. But there's one glaring difference in the wannabees and the real Alphas that I've noticed..."

Madison didn't know what to say, so he just sat mute.

"Want to know what it is?" she teased.

In spite of himself, Bill laughed, her good mood catching.

"It's something that you wouldn't expect from someone who's a notch above other males..." she left hanging, her eyes twinkling.

"Okay. I'll bite. What is it?" he laughed.

"Modesty," she startled him by saying. "They're modest. Probably because they don't have to prove themselves, and maybe they're also smart enough to know that they don't have to brag on themselves."

With an inscrutable look, she asked, "How many of the fighter jocks on that carrier were modest?"

Bill's first thought was to tease her, but instead, he stopped and thought. "A couple. They were damn good, but they never bragged, usually just joked about anything that they managed that was exceptional," he answered, a slight frown wrinkling his brow as he dug into long-ago memories.

"Did you ever notice them doing something like you did with that plane at Atlanta?"

"Kathy, you're making too much..."

"Did you?"

Bill sighed. "Maybe. I can think of one thing, but Baby that doesn't mean..."

"'Baby?'" she repeated, looking hard at him, the twinkle in her eye almost becoming a gleam.

"Look, I didn't mean ... If it was an insult..."

"Don't mess up now, Big Man. It darn sure isn't an insult," she said, pushing a finger into his side.

Madison jumped and shied away from her a little. "Oh, so you're ticklish," she almost crowed, drilling a finger into him again.

"No, wait," Bill said, trying to grab her hand without hurting her.

Kathy laughed, jumped up and straddled his legs, going after him full-bore. Bill could have caught her hands as they darted back and forth from one of his sides to the other, but trying to catch her hand and not hurt her at the same time, presented a problem, plus he was fighting not to giggle, and she knew it.

"Kathy, wait, uh..."

But she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. The unflappable Madison was about to pee his pants, she thought, as she redoubled her efforts to tickle him.

Finally, Bill locked his arms around her and kissed her. He only meant to startle her into giving him a chance to trap her hands, but it backfired on him. When his lips touched hers, something happened. All the pent-up emotions from the last weeks, especially those from today, seemed to coalesce into ... something.

Kathy pushed her mouth back hard against his, her lips parting slightly, and from deep within her, an unconscious moan came forth.



-------

Chapter 59

 ... But she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon. The unflappable Madison was about to pee his pants, she thought, as she redoubled her efforts to tickle him.

Finally, Bill locked his arms around her and kissed her. He only meant to startle her into giving him a chance to trap her hands, but it backfired on him. When his lips touched hers, something happened. All the pent-up emotions from the last weeks, especially those from today, seemed to coalesce into ... something.

Kathy pushed her mouth back hard against his, her lips parting slightly, and from deep within her, an unconscious moan came forth.

After a couple of minutes, Kathy pulled back a little, looking into Bill's eyes. "Stop feeling guilty. She broke her vows; you didn't. You're free now. Let go and let me come in. And don't you open your mouth about being forty-four. You don't look it, and you don't act like it."

Bill tried not to look at her swaying breasts, her nipples tenting her top. Obviously, she had taken off her bra. "Kathy, are you sure? We've talked about the age difference before. I..."

Kathy quietly sighed. "I chose a young man once. He told me that he loved me. Like a fool, I gladly gave him my virginity. Every time we had sex, I told myself it would get better, but it didn't. Then the asshole dropped me just before finals. Just before finals. That's a hell of a thing to do to someone."

Still sitting astraddle his legs, she leaned back a little and stared into his eyes. "Now, I realize, of course, that he did me a favor by not marrying me. I would have had to live with that asshole. I can't give my virginity to you; I threw it away on that prick. But I've never really been made love to. I know that there has to be more to sex than I've experienced. Surely there is. I've heard too many women rave about it. But he only cared about himself..."

Madison took her head carefully in his hands, touched his lips to hers for a second, then pulled back a little. "You're twenty-six, right?" At her nod, he continued, "You saved yourself for marriage?"

"Yeah. Kinda dumb, I guess."

"It isn't dumb. Are you saying that you haven't been with anyone else since your fiancé in college?"

"Yeah. I thought we were going to be married. I mean, he asked me and I accepted, but he didn't give me a ring. He claimed he didn't have the money then, but he lied about that, too. His family has a lot of money and gave him anything he wanted. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. After him, I didn't want to have anything to do with men for a while, then I met you. Well, I couldn't have you, since you were married, so I ... just waited and ... dreamed."

Bill grabbed her and hugged her tightly to him. "Crap, Baby, that makes me feel bad, but I was married. I couldn't have done anything..."

"You called me 'Baby' again." When Bill started to say something, she quickly interrupted, "No, don't," she whispered, touching her finger to his lips. "To say that I like it is an understatement, to put it mildly. Now stop being logical and just kiss me like you did a minute ago."

Bill hesitated for a moment, then pulled her face to his. As soon as their lips touched, she began slightly moving her mouth on his. Almost before he knew it, he touched her lips with his tongue tip. She made a little sound, and allowed him to enter, her tongue coming joyously to meet his.

Madison relaxed and leaned against the back of the couch, pulling her tightly against his chest. They continued the kiss for a while, then she took her mouth off his, snuggling against his chest, putting her head on his shoulder.

After a couple of quiet moments while Bill was thinking, he felt wetness against his cheek. "Baby are you..." he tried to turn his face so he could see hers.

She held tight, refusing to let him look at her for the moment. "Oh, don't go all masculine on me," she tried to tease as her voice broke. "There's nothing wrong. I'm just happy. Happier than I've been in a long, long time."

After a moment, she sat back up, still facing him on his lap, and he wiped her tears with his thumbs. She suddenly kissed him hard for a moment, then pulled back again, trying to laugh and cry at the same time, squirming forward a little.

Looking down between them, then back at him she teased, "There's a big lump under my bottom. Why don't you pick me up and carry me to your bedroom? Show me what a real man can do for the woman he loves. I've seen it in your eyes for a while now. But I know that you still love Jill. That doesn't bother me at all, as long as you love me, too."

Bill sighed. "Baby, I don't have any protection. I'll get some tomorrow, then we'll make love. It's been so long ... If I carry you in there now, I'm afraid that I won't be able to stop."

"My period is in a couple of days. I managed to get a prescription for the pills that Diana recommended. They take effect quickly. I'll start them after my period. You're not going to get me pregnant, and even if you did ... Well, I wouldn't complain if you can put up with a pregnant copilot," she finished, grinning.

When Bill continued to sit, she teased, "What's the matter, can't you get up with me sitting on your legs?"

Madison grinned at her, slid forward while she turned sideways in his lap. Putting his arms around her and leaning forward, he stood.

She laughed as he bounced her a little in his arms. "Diana says that Alpha's are strong."

"Bullshit," he laughed in spite of himself. "You're not heavy."

"Are you going to stand here all night, or..."

Madison kissed her hard, then breaking the kiss, walked toward the bedroom.

Giggling like a teenager, she reached out and opened the door, and he kicked it closed when they entered. When they got to the bed, she expected him to gently put her on it; instead, he tossed her in the middle. When she bounced, squealed and looked up at him, he sat on the side and leaned over her.

"I need to take a shower. While I'm at it, you need to think about this and decide if you really want to go through with it."

As he started to rise back up, Kathy grabbed his tie. "You aren't going anywhere. Besides, I fantasized for two years about you taking that uniform off. While you were lecturing to Dave, I had a chance to change, so all I have on is this top, and shorts."

"Look, Baby, I need a shower..."

"I've smelled a man before, and I want to smell my man. I've seen you in trunks and a tee shirt many times, but I want to see you take that uniform off. I've dreamed of this moment for a long time. I may not be very experienced, but I'm a woman, not some little girl. And don't be shy about the scarring on your back. I've seen most of it when you didn't realize it. Those are just marks of a hero. They don't turn me off."

"I'm no hero and you know it. I was just doing my job," he said absently as he sat on the side of the bed and slipped off his shoes and socks. Standing, he undid his tie. "Uh, and besides, the scarring is gone."

Kathy just looked at him, then finally blinked. "Uh, it's only been a couple weeks since we were in Seattle. What was it, the Hyatt? I saw some of the scars then while we were at the pool. That much scarring doesn't just go away..."

"Mine did," Bill said, grinning as he unbuttoned his shirt. The shirt undone, he pulled it out of his pants and tossed it aside. "Time for the unveiling," he teased as he pulled the tee shirt over his head. Waiting a moment, he looked at her and grinned while she stared at his hairy, muscular chest.

Turning slowly, he heard her gasp as she saw all the new skin, baby-smooth and pink.

"That can't be," she quietly said coming to her knees, then reaching a hand out to slide it over his smooth back. "Scars, especially deep burn scars, don't just go away. I remember you telling me about having some skin grafts and operations on your back before I started working for the company, but that was then. I've seen some of those scars and even touched your back from time to time when you had a tee shirt on and we were playing in the pool. How did this happen? What did you do? I've been with you almost every day since I last saw your back in Seattle. You couldn't have had time to have some new procedure done..."

She reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead. "The scar on your forehead is still there ... Well, it is, and it isn't. It used to be a lot longer than it is now. This doesn't make sense. If they could remove all those scars from your back, then they could remove that long scar on your forehead. Half of it is gone, but the other looks just like it used to. I've seen it many times when we were swimming and you pushed your wet hair out of your eyes. This doesn't make sense," she repeated.

Madison just looked at her, sat on the side of the bed and slipped his shoes and socks off. Standing and turning toward her, he grinned and dropped his pants. Her eyes dropped to the lump in his jockey shorts, the scars forgotten. "Oh, that looks uncomfortable," she whispered reaching out to touch the bulge with a fingertip.

Bill chuckled. "It isn't right now, but it will be if you keep that up."

"It was up when I was sitting on your lap."

"Yeah," he sighed. "It was, but I did a little thinking..."

"Don't start again, please Bill. I'm no little girl, and certainly no shrinking violet. I haven't tried to play innocent. I've waited for you for two years. Now get those shorts off and let me see my man. Then I want you to undress me like I've dreamed about."

Putting action to works as they say, she pulled down on his shorts, and he pushed them the rest of the way to the floor, then off his feet. As he rose back up, she just had to touch him. "Oh, my," she quietly said. "You're bigger than that ass was with yours still soft."

As she unconsciously stroked him a little, his cock began to swell. Mesmerized, she watched it extend, fill, then stand proud. Her middle finger and thumb wouldn't quite touch as she wrapped her fingers around the now rock-hard cock before her. Warm, throbbing in her hand, the veins standing out, it silently called to her. Holding her fiancé had never done anything much for her — this did.

"Oh, my," she said again as he lifted her chin and reached down to kiss her. As he moved beside her on the bed, encouraging her to lie down again, she refused to let go of his cock.

Seeing the dreamy look on her face and not really understanding why she was so enthralled with his dick, he started to ask, when she suddenly bent forward and licked the head.

He tensed and sucked in a breath. "Oh, shit, Baby." Then quickly, "Look Sweetie, my shower was early this morning. That thing isn't the cleaneeest..." he hissed, drawing the word out as she stretched her mouth over the head and sucked.

Quickly, she turned herself around, nudging him to spread his legs. Kneeling between them with his cock still in her mouth, she looked up at him as she pushed her mouth farther down his shaft. When it touched the back of her throat, she swallowed to fight her gag reflex (something she had read), then tried to push more of his cock into her mouth and consequently down her throat. It didn't go.

Readjusting herself so that maybe her throat was more in line with his cock, she pushed hard again while repeatedly swallowing. Bill groaned and shuddered even though she couldn't seem to get his cock to go any deeper.

Frustrated that she couldn't deep-throat him like she had seen on the DVDs that she had rented, she decided to give up for the moment and concentrate on giving him a blowjob.

Madison looked down at his pretty copilot, watched her sparkling eyes looking back at him. She wasn't as good as his wife had been while she still loved him, but there was no denying that she was putting a hundred percent into pleasing him. As she continued to stroke him with her hand, sucking and moving her mouth up and down his cock, he reached down and gently took her head in his hands, tugging.

"Come lie beside me. You don't have to prove anything. When I picked you up and walked in here, my mind was made up. If you want this old man, you have him. Now come here and we'll make love. There'll be plenty of time to play later."

Kathy took her mouth off his dick with a pop, having read that men liked that, "But I want..."

Bill reached down, grasped her under her arms and lifted her to lie beside him, then kissed her, or tried to. Quickly turning her head aside, she started to say something, but he gently turned her face back to him and soul kissed her.

When he broke the kiss, "Obviously, that asshole wouldn't kiss you after you went down on him. I hate to talk about someone that I haven't even met, but I think that other than being an idiot for letting you get away, he was also, indeed, an asshole, as you say. If you're nice enough to suck my cock for me, I'm damn sure going to kiss those same lips and mouth that have given me pleasure. Now I came in here to make love to you, so let's forget about his routines. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to do."

"But, I do want to do that to you..."

Bill chuckled. "Good, because I'm going to give you plenty of opportunity. But not right now."

For a time, her world became their kiss. Later, she didn't remember how her clothes got off. His lips touched her face, her eyes, her ears, then they started a march down her throat toward her breasts. She had never been teased before, and Bill was a master of it as he kissed slow circles around her nipples, refusing to touch them. Finally, when she felt that she was about to go crazy with desire, he kissed, then gently sucked them.

Nathan had sucked her nipples, but there was never any buildup, and foreplay was rubbing his hand on her pussy for a couple of minutes before he pushed his dick into her. She cradled Bill's head in her hands as he continued to suckle her, his hand gently kneading her other breast, and occasionally pulling her nipple, then rolling it between his fingers.

She realized that she was panting, wished he would get on with it, tried to tell him so, but he continued, his other hand now stroking her side. A slow, gentle orgasm built in her — the first she had ever had from having her breasts and nipples stimulated. It rolled over her, seeming to last for a long time.

His mouth finally left her breasts and took a maddeningly long time to travel down her body. Asshole had never kissed her there. He said it was gross, but she knew that this handsome man would — if he would ever get there. Then when he did get there, he wouldn't touch her clitoris. He slowly licked around her vulva, at first even refusing to touch her there at all. Finally, he did with ghost-like trails of his tongue along her length.

When her pussy lips opened slightly for him, he fit the tip of his tongue in the slit and licked upward, again teasing her by not touching her button with the feather licks. After a time that seemed like forever, he increased the pressure of his tongue, then startling her with the suddenness of it, he flicked her little tip hard with his tongue. When she hissed in a breath and arched up, he returned to the slow, gently licks, now occasionally interspersed with him cupping his tongue and pushing a little into her entrance.

Each time she neared orgasm, he would slack off even more, then finally, he sucked on her clit and attacked it with his tongue. The most intense orgasm, anywhere, anyhow, bar none,  gripped her, her body arching like a bow, sounds coming from her mouth that seemed to belong to someone else.

She didn't lose consciousness; rather, she seemed to lose reality. The world slowed; colors and sounds seemed odd. When she could reason again, she realized that he was lying on top of her, most of his weight supported by his forearms, and his cock was pushing against her entrance.

His mouth possessed hers, even as his cock possessed her pussy. "Yes!" she tried to say into his mouth as his cock spread her and forced its way inside her little-used pussy.

She knew she could take him. She knew she could take him. Oh, shit. He'll never get that thing inside me. Oh, crap. It'll never go.

He pulled back and pushed again, then again. Suddenly, he hit something inside her, moved things around that had never been moved before. Her body tensed even more, then she came. He drew back, then pushed against that something inside her again, and the orgasm went higher.

She wiggled her hips rubbing her cervix against the head of his cock as he held hard into her, and she came again. Then he started fucking her. It went on and on.

As Bill pumped slowly into the thrashing woman under him, he was amazed. Jill had been enthusiastic in bed — well until the last year. But nothing like this. He became afraid that Kathy was going to hurt herself. When he stopped and just held inside her, she thrashed around, whining, "No. No. Don't stop. Keep going."

He resumed thrusting into her, picking up the pace a little. She tossed her head from side to side, her pussy fluttering and grasping his cock. As time went on, she threw her legs around his hips, her body ramming her pussy up to him, then wildly gyrating her hips as she rubbed her womb hard against the head of his dick.

Her orgasms seemed to be coming back to back, then ran together until they became one. The sounds coming from her mouth increased in volume but became almost completely unintelligible. He finally realized that she was saying, "Come. Come. Come," over and over again.

He increased his pace, pounding into her. His cock throbbed, the feeling of her grasping pussy on his member, exquisite. That feeling built until Bill could hardly gasp breath into his lungs. His hips lunged forward one last time as he jammed the head of his cock against her cervix and held. His cock throbbed, then pulsed, sending a geyser of come hard against the rubbery opening to her womb.

As he groaned, his cock spurted again. Obviously she felt it, because she took a deep breath, threw back her head and screamed. Her heels drummed for a moment on his hips, then she dropped her feet to the bed again, pushing upward to lock her body into an arch. His cock pulsed several more times, the come seeming to empty all the sperm from his balls, and the energy from his body. Some small part of his mind realized that he had come so hard that his balls hurt.

In mid-scream she fell back to the bed, sweat pouring off her face and breasts. He stared at her in wonder as she took a shuddering breath, a lopsided smile on her face as she collapsed into oblivion.

Bill made sure that he didn't put any weight on her, just remained where he was, letting his cock soak in her come-filled and occasionally spasming pussy.

A grin on his face, he thought: That fucking idiot let this woman get away. Shit, if I ever see him, I think I'll shake his hand for letting me have a chance with her.

A few minutes later, after Bill had gotten his breath back somewhat, he gently kissed her mouth for a second. When he did so, she shuddered a little, then opened her eyes part way, a grin on her face.

"Wow," she croaked. "Wow."

"You need some water," Bill said, starting to move to get it.

Instantly, she wrapped her legs tight around his hips. "No. Don't you dare move. I want that fabulous cock left right where it is." Squirming her pussy, she continued, "This is probably all I'm going to be able to have for a while. I'm already beginning to get sore, and I imagine I'm going to walk funny tomorrow. But I'll be doing it with a smile on my face."

"Baby, you were a little..."

"I'm twenty-six years old. That's the first time I've ever been made love to. And the first time I've ever had my brains fucked out. I've heard girls talk about that, but I really couldn't imagine what they meant. Now I know," she said, giggling.

Bill discovered that he liked her to giggle with his dick inside her.

"Raise up a little so I can see," she said, trying to look between them.

When he pushed up from her, she rose up a little, looking at their juncture and the thick semen that had been forced out of her.

"Oh, that looks sexy," she cooed, squeezing his dick, then thinking better of it as her overworked pussy told her about it.

"I can feel the warmth of your semen inside me. It's a good feeling," she whispered. Kissing him as she lay back and pulling his face to hers, she eventually said, "Please, just lie on me until I go to sleep. I've got to sleep for a while..." And she was out.

Madison thought about getting a towel to catch his come, but realized that it was too late for that. He hadn't had any sex in a long time, and there had been little chance, and less inclination to masturbate lately with all that had been going on. He had come so much that he could feel it in her, himself. His cock and balls were covered with it, as was the outside of her pussy.

Madison looked at the young woman under him that was sleeping so trustingly. She didn't have the glamorous beauty of Jill, but she was very, very pretty. Her beauty and Jill's were totally different.

For the thousandth time, he wondered what had happened. He still had been so happy, or so he thought. Well, they say that the husband is always the last to know. Guess I fit that mold just fine, because I damn sure didn't see anything coming.

Kathy's pussy fluttered around his softening cock again. He smiled as he looked down at his copilot, her tangled hair, sweat beading on her forehead and trickling down the slope of her breasts. She's sexy as can be. And like learning to be a pilot, she puts everything she has into it,  he mused, a grin tickling the sides of his mouth.

Pulling slowly out of her, he rested on his heels to watch as her open pussy expelled a big gob of thick semen. Little lady, I sure hope you're right about being safe right now, for you darn sure have been exposed, as my dad used to say.

Fatigue hit him as he started to stand, but he thought he would get something to catch some of his semen after all. He staggered to the sink and got a washcloth, sliding it under her drooling pussy, tucking the cloth a little under her perfect ass so she wouldn't have to sleep in his come.

Collapsing beside her, he managed to pull her head to his shoulder before sleep overtook him.

-------

Thirty minutes later, the bedroom door flew open and Linda rushed in. Taking in the sight of her dad and Kathy lying nude on their backs, she didn't slow as she crossed the room and plopped down on the bed beside Bill.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," she admonished. "Too early for bed yet. I've got some news."

Bill had tried to sit up just before Linda landed on the bed, then partway onto his chest so she could stare him eye to eye.

"Linda," he chided, "I'm naked. Get out of here and let me get some..."

"Oh, pooh. I've seen you without clothes on before, and Kathy and I have taken a bath together."

By then, Kathy had buried her head in Bill's shoulder and was giggling.

"Looks like you finally got him," Linda grinned at Kathy. "'Bout time."

Bill looked for the sheet, but finally got his mind together enough to realize that they hadn't turned the bed down. "Look, Baby..."

Linda looked her father in the eyes, her forearms on his chest, their faces close together. "Dave asked me to marry him," she said, beaming. "Evie did, too. I'm going to be part of a harem just like the others."

Bill frowned. "I gave my okay, but I don't think I like..."

"Oh, come on Daddy. Don't be a spoilsport, now. What difference does it make what I call it. I'm going to be his wife, just like Evie." Frowning a little, she continued, "But he said that he wouldn't make me a woman until I'm sixteen."

"Well, that's good," Madison said, weakly.

"The only thing is that I put one stipulation into our marriage."

"Oh, what's that, Punkin?" he absently said, wondering how he could get something to cover his dick.

Blowing his mind completely, Linda glanced behind her and quickly grasped his manhood. He hissed in a breathe as she squeezed, let go, then smelled of her hand.

"Sticky," she smirked, "and it smells sexy."

So quickly that she began speaking again before the shock would let him admonish her for grasping her father's cock, she said, "The stipulation was that I would get to make love to you during the first month of our marriage. You've always been my dream, and I can't have you. But I want to do it one time so I'll have that memory forever."

Kathy clasped her hand over her mouth as she made a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, her eyes dancing. Bill just lay there staring into his daughter's smiling face. The first half dozen things he started to say were rejected by his confused mind. By then, Linda forged ahead.

"When I explained it to Dave and Evie, Dave finally laughed a little and said that he now knew a little about how you felt when you sent him to me. But after a while, he kissed me and said that he understood. There is one other person that has to give her permission first, though," she said, locking eyes with Kathy.

There was silence for a moment before Kathy quietly said, "I don't own him. I love him, and I think he loves me, but I don't own him to give you permission or not."

"Bullshit," Bill said, turning to her. "I told you that I had made up my mind before I stood up with you in my arms in the sitting room. What we just did is commitment as far as I'm concerned."

Kathy smiled and pulled his arm tight around her, absently tugging a little on his fingers. Glancing back at Linda, smirking a little, she said, "Well, I'll have to think about it, I guess."

Linda's face fell, but then Kathy couldn't keep her face straight any longer. "Okay, I've thought about it. And the answer is..."

"Kathy!" Linda squealed.

"Yes. I think it's a great idea."

Bill turned to look at Kathy. Astonishment wasn't even close.



-------

Chapter 60



TUESDAY AFTERNOON LATE — SEPTEMBER 17

 ... Linda's face fell, but then Kathy couldn't keep her face straight any longer. "Okay, I've thought about it. And the answer is..."

"Kathy!" Linda squealed.

"Yes. I think it's a great idea."

Bill turned to look at Kathy. Astonishment wasn't even close.

While Bill was staring at Kathy, Linda seized the opportunity to squeeze his recumbent cock again, then jumped up and ran out the door, her laughter cutting off as the door slammed behind her.

Flopping back on the bed with an arm against his forehead, he quietly said, "Shit."

When Kathy's chuckles morphed into belly laughs, Madison grumped, "What are you laughing at?"

That brought on more laughter, which in turn eventually brought a grin to Bill's face in spite of himself. "At least she's happy," he sighed, "But what's come over my daughter? I mean ... well, she's never been shy around me. We used to, as a family, sit in the hot tub without our clothes. I wouldn't have an erection or anything. Uh, she's walked in on Jill and me a few times over the years. I suppose that some of them were contrived, but well, crap. This is different. I can't believe this. But there's no way in hell..."

"Don't make rash statements that you can't keep," Kathy advised, chuckling at his discomfiture.

"There is no way that I'm going to fuck my daughter. I'm not some kind of pervert..."

" ... like Jeff," Kathy finished for him, not meaning it in the least, and knowing that wasn't what Bill was going to say, but trying to shock him, instead.

"Well, no. You're putting words into my mouth."

"So, don't fuck her," Kathy said, rolling to her stomach, an arm across his chest as she stared into his eyes. "Make love to her the way you did me."

"Well, you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," she said. "Do you think Jeff is a pervert?"

"Well, no, but theirs is ... a special case. I mean ... Hell, I don't know what I mean. I just can't think of my daughter like that."

"Oh, really," Kathy laughed. "Want me to call her back in here? I'll bet that if she squeezed your cock for thirty seconds it would be hard as a board," she said, deliberately mixing metaphors, but not getting a rise out of Bill. Mentally shrugging, she continued, "And if she stuck a titty in your mouth you would be hard put to say no. Pun intended."

Bill was quiet for a time, his thoughts drifting. Finally, "Why aren't you jealous? You say that you love me, yet you have given your approval for me to ... make love to my daughter. That just seems..."

Kathy thought for a minute, absently running her fingers through the mat of hair on his chest. At last, "I don't really know. Maybe it's because I had to wait for you for so long while you were married to Jill, and a good bit of that time, it was obvious that it was a happy marriage. Then, again, it's apparent that you still love her, even though she's gone. The Matthews are probably a part of it, too. There's seven of them, and I've yet to see the slightest hint of jealousy. And Jeff treats them like each one of them is special to him."

She readjusted herself so that she was propped more on Bill's muscular chest. Just as she started to say something else, Bill spoke up. "This is probably caused by all Linda has been through. Her mother suddenly treating her like shit, the crap with the house and the furniture, the divorce, the move, my consenting for her to become part of a ... uh, to join with Dave and Evie. This is just something that came up because of Arlene and Jeff. She would never have thought of it if it hadn't been for them. And then, too, I guess some of it is that she's been more or less the woman of the house for some time now, with Jill gone so much of the time. Daddy's little girl might just have morphed into Daddy's woman in her mind, well, just a bit, anyway."

He intently looked at the ceiling for a moment as if to glean the answer there. Finally, "She'll forget this. After she makes love to Dave, she won't even remember it. I'm worrying over nothing. After her wedding night, she won't know I exist, let alone want to have sex with her father."

Kathy pulled his chest hair enough to get his attention, refusing to answer. "I'm hungry. Seems like we missed dinner, or supper, as the Matthews call it." Leaning over, she kissed the tip of his cock, startling him that she would put her mouth on it after they had sex.

Standing, holding the washcloth to her pussy, she said, "I'm going to go sit on the commode and let some of this run out, then I'm going to clean up a little. After that I'm hoping to find something to eat."

Bill just grinned and watched her tight little ass as she headed for the bathroom. When the door closed, he went to the vanity sink and washed his dick and balls, thinking that he could eat his weight in steak.

By the time Kathy had cleaned herself and returned to the bedroom, he had put his pants and tee shirt back on and opened the door to the sitting room. "Guess what?" he called out to her.

"What?" she asked trying to figure out what happened to her top.

"Come here and look," he insisted. "You look better without that top, anyway."

Finding the top under the edge of the bed, she put it on, then pulled her shorts on. Walking to the door she stopped. "My goodness."

"I heard someone tap on the bedroom door while I was dressing. By the time I got my clothes on and opened the door, they were gone. But they surely left us some goodies," he finished, sitting on the couch and lifting the cover on one of the dishes arrayed on the large coffee table.

Kathy took the cover off another dish. As the smells triggered an already roaring appetite, she grinned at the man that had just screwed her brains out. "These people are class. And ... they can cook," she laughed.

Kathy plopped down beside Bill, kissing him on the cheek before uncovering the rest of the food, then serving her man.

"Their timing is good, too," Bill said as he picked up his fork.

Kathy thought for a minute. "Yeah. I wonder how they knew. Maybe Linda told them."

Bill swallowed, took a sip of his drink, then replied, "Ah, it had to be coincidence. They put everything in these insulated containers to keep it hot in case we weren't ready to eat. There was just a little tap on the door. I doubt if I would have even heard it earlier while we were..."

"While you were screwing my brains out," Kathy offered.

Bill grinned back at her. "I wouldn't have noticed if the place had been struck by lightning," he laughed. "Yeah, that has to be it. They put the stuff in place, tapped on the door in case we were ... uh, done, then hauled ass.

"But then how do you suppose that they knew we were making love?" he continued.

"Hah," Kathy laughed putting a fried chicken breast on her plate, "that's easy. They knew that you signed the papers today, and it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that I would be after you tonight. We came in, you talked to Dave and Evie, then we didn't come back for supper. Wouldn't take much to figure out what we were doing," she giggled.

"Yeah, it could be that. Then again Jeff's women seem to amaze me on every turn. Well, they proved that they can find him. I don't know. It just makes you wonder..."

As soon as they finished their late dinner, Kathy and Bill put everything back on the serving cart that had been left against the wall. "Let's go find everybody. I've got to talk to the Matthews."

Bill, who had just put the last item on the cart, froze. "You're going to tell them?"

"Of course, silly. They know anyway, obviously. Now we can have some girl talk."

"You're going to embarrass me to death, you know. I won't be able to look a one of them in the eye at breakfast."

"Oh, pooh. They'll probably pat you on the back and congratulate you, particularly if they heard me screaming."

"Well, they couldn't have heard that," he sighed. "The place is soundproofed too well for that."

"Well, then, I'll just have to tell them."

Bill looked at her as she held the door open for him, ushering him through as he pushed the cart before him. As they walked down the hall, Kathy obviously in high spirits, Bill glanced at her, again. My pretty little copilot has a side to her that I've never seen before. Somehow, I guess I expected her to be, as least a little, meek in bed. She wasn't. Now she's off to tell Jeff's wives about our lovemaking. I would never have expected that, either. She isn't a bit embarrassed. But I know damn well that my face is going to be red if I meet one of those women right now. Maybe they won't be in the living room.

As they stopped at the living room door, they saw Jeff sitting on one of the recliners near the window. "They're in the kitchen waiting for the dishes," Jeff called out to them.

"See you after while," Kathy said quickly kissing Bill, then pushing the cart toward the kitchen.

"Come on over and sit down," Jeff invited, motioning toward another recliner. "Pull up a seat and let's sit by the window."

As Madison settled in, Jeff continued, "You can't see much at night, other than under the yard lights, but it's easy to understand why Frank put in this giant window. The view was just too good to miss."

"It's all going to be covered with snow pretty soon," Bill said, nodding toward the outside.

"Yeah," Jeff agreed, glancing at him. "The summer was beautiful, then the fall was even better, but we're anxious to see everything covered in white. Coming from Georgia, we didn't get to see much snow. When it did snow, it was gone in a couple of days."

"Well, this won't be," Madison said adjusting himself more comfortably. "And although it's beautiful, it's also going to be a bit of a hassle."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Madison said. "We never discussed what I need to pay to live here and my daughter to attend your school."

When Jeff started to reply, Madison continued. "Don't even start, Jeff. I am going to pay. Frank Wainwright has made damn sure that I have an excellent salary. Far better than I could make anywhere else. Now let's talk money..."

Jeff grinned at Bill. "Now how much do you think I charge Frank and Margaret for living here? Seems like it would be fair to charge you the same amount, since you insist."

Bill knew he was being suckered. "I'm not going to fall for that. You two are friends, and I doubt seriously that you're charging him anything. That hasn't got anything to do with me."

"Oh, so you're saying that you aren't my friend?" Jeff asked, his grin getting bigger.

"Well, you know what I mean. Name a figure, or I'll just leave a check for what I feel is right, and I'm not chinchy."

Jeff just grinned, got up and went over to the serving cart. Picking up a carafe of coffee, he motioned.

"Yeah, I'll take a cup," Madison said.

After they had fixed their coffee and gotten settled again, Madison asked, "Have you decided?"

Jeff took a sip of his coffee, then stared through the window for a moment. "Obviously you have worked hard all your life — college, the military, commercial pilot ... I know that you're used to paying your own way. My problem is simply this. How am I to charge a friend, and if Diana is right, a fellow Alpha, for something that costs me little or nothing?"

Jeff held his hand up a little forestalling Bill's response. "My patent attorneys decided that they didn't want to wait for their percentage, apparently having heard a rumor that my radar wasn't going to sell. They took a trivial — in comparison — buyout, which will save me a lot of money over time. As I'm sure that Frank has told you, the government is going to buy a hundred trial units at an obscene amount of money. Done deal, other than the government's paperwork.

"I acquired a couple of small companies. I bought them because I had helped to produce some unique products that I expected to sell rather well, shall we say. They did. Maybe I'm just lucky — whatever. Between those deals and the investor that I've hired, I've got more money now than I had when we moved in here, and I haven't done a damn thing. But how in the hell am I going to charge you for a place to live, when you're in the area. A place that is costing me nothing and won't be used. The same goes for the school. The teacher is my wife, for crying out loud. Oh, I still pay her a salary — technically — because the accountant says that it's the way to go. But it's like transferring money from one pocket to another."

"You bought Linda a computer. I stuck my head in the classroom as we came down the hall and saw the boxes. Her desktop got snatched, but we had already taken her laptop to the plane."

"Her computer?"

Bill told Jeff about how the good doctor had someone take all the furniture out of the house, including Linda's desktop system.

Jeff starred at Madison for a moment, then leaning back, he said, "Well, she has a top-of-the-line desktop, now, and her new laptop is ordered with overnight shipping, so she'll have the exact same thing that all the rest of the girls have. Laura was actually the one who handled the transactions. The guy that runs the shop where she bought the desktop made the mistake of talking down to her when we bought the other systems, and in her mind, tried to screw over us. Helen is the resident genius, true enough, but Laura is the genius with computers. She's intimidated the guy so badly that when he told her what the price was for Linda's system, she just nodded to Helen to write the check. He darn sure didn't try to mess with her this time. Then she smiled sweetly at him and opened the case to make sure he used what he said he did to build the system."

"So how much were they?" Bill said, taking out his checkbook. "I'm going to pay for at least the two computers, at the minimum. We'll settle the other later, if you won't tell me how much."

When Jeff told him what the systems cost, Madison wrote out the check. Jeff didn't say anything, just folded and put it in his shirt pocket without comment. The check would never be deposited and Jeff hoped that Madison would be too busy to reconcile his account this month.

After a little, Madison got up and freshened their coffee. Jeff acknowledged with a nod and asked, "What made you decide to give your permission for Dave to marry your daughter?"

"So you've already talked to Dave," Bill said, taking another sip, a slight frown on his face.

"No," Jeff smiled. "I haven't seen Dave or Evie since supper. My wives told me."

Thinking that Evie must have called them, Madison said, "I don't really know. I had a little incident in the hallway when we left the attorney's office. That asshole that Jill is shacked up with was staring at Linda like he was sizing her up or something. But that's not the whole thing." Sighing, he put his half-full cup on the table beside his chair. "I had been thinking about it, like you said. Thinking about all the things wrong with letting a thirty something year old man have my daughter. And, shit, I don't know. Things just seemed to turn around in my mind. All those things that I had been thinking were wrong, just seem to be right before I knew it."

Bill looked over at Jeff, his face changing. "I kept running that conversation through my mind that you and Diana had with me by the old ski resort. I had seen Linda looking at Dave and Evie's pictures with love on her face. I knew that my little girl had grown up. Oh, shit, Jeff. I can't put this into words. It just seems right."

Jeff had little more reaction than he would have if Bill had told him that it was dark outside, for he knew exactly what Bill meant when he made the comment about it just seeming right. Things like that had happened to him, over and over, and he had learned the hard way to go with his instincts. Jeff gulped down the rest of his coffee and said, "So, what are you going to get them for a wedding present?"

When Bill said, "Uh..."

Jeff laughed and said, "Let's go find our women and see what they're doing. And oh, yeah, when are you going to marry Kathy?"

His mind in a fog, Bill followed Jeff toward the kitchen.

-------

Later, Dave walked into the living room and stood for a moment watching Jeff as he sat in a recliner staring into the fire.

After a moment, without looking around, Jeff casually said, "I've been waiting on you." When Dave didn't respond, Jeff added, "Probably sitting by the fire would be more comfortable than standing in that doorway."

Still without comment, Dave pushed a recliner within a few feet of Jeff, then relaxed into it. Also staring at the crackling fire, he let his mind drift for a while, then said, "I don't understand women."

Jeff chuckled, not even bothering to answer.

"I need some advice."

Jeff had just raised a coke to his mouth. Thankful that he hadn't taken a drink a second earlier, he sniggered under his breath and looked over at Dave — a Dave that had a different look on his face than Jeff had ever seen there.

"Hoss, if you expect me to give you advice about women, then you're talking to the wrong man."

"But, damnit, you have seven wives, and ... and... two more women here, uh, auditioning for the job. I am way, frigging, over my head. I'm scared shitless that Evie is going to wake up and ... Hell, I don't even know, 'and.'"

Jeff realized that his buddy wasn't just kidding around, but was really messed up.

"Look, you're getting way too uptight about this..."

"Uptight. Uptight!" Who's uptight? I'm way beyond uptight. First, Madison has a complete change of heart. He dresses Linda for me. Then he takes Evie and me into his suite and lectures us like I'm sixteen years old and taking his daughter on her first date. He grills me about my background, my business, hell, everything? And all the time, I'm sitting there feeling like I'm sixteen years old and asking ... Oh, I don't know what I felt like.

"Then, when this seems like it has gone on forever, he suddenly changes and just tells me to go and tell Linda that I love her. The man had tears in his eyes. I mean, with all the lectures and questions, I thought the next statement was going to be something like telling me that he would cut my balls off if I touched her below the belt.

"And Evie. Shit Jeff, not to make you mad, and don't take this wrong, but she laid down the law when she first heard me talk about all the women that I suspected you were ... well, you know. She can be a hellfire when she wants to be. She was emphatic about the only pussy I had better have. Well, you know the drill ... Well, shit, maybe you don't."

Jeff laughed a little, "Oh, I know the drill, all right."

"I don't think you do, Jeff. I really don't think you do. Your women all get along, and that's an understatement. Hell, I can remember my dad having to fire women in the office that just wouldn't get along. And they could make it sound so logical that it was hard to determine who had started things, and who was wrong. Just one little thing led to another, then the whole thing escalated until they were all screaming at each other about everything.

"What if, when the dust settles, Evie and Linda don't get along? Evie is talking about this queen bitch thing, and right now, it's mostly in a joking kind of way, but I think she's serious, nevertheless. She sees herself as the Diana of our household. What if Linda doesn't? Or, what if after a couple of years and Linda is used to things, that she doesn't want Evie being boss any more?"

Dave got up, picked up the tongs and rearranged the logs so that they would burn better. Replacing the tongs, he turned so that his back was to the fire, putting his hands behind him to warm them while he looked at Jeff. "Evie was special from the first time I saw her. By the time I had talked to her a few times at church, I knew that she was going to be mine. Nothing was going to stop me. What if this goes wrong? I can't risk losing her. I..."

"Do you love Linda?"

"Oh, heck, yes. It was even quicker than with Evie, I guess. Well, that's not completely right. With Evie, at first, I could only talk to her at church with other people around. With Linda, with the music and all, we were together quicker, but Evie was there with us a lot of the time..."

Jeff took a deep breath, then was silent for a while. "Why don't Diana and I, you and Evie get together for a little talk? Let's let the two Queen Bitches have an input into this. Diana and Evie are close. Probably the way to go would be for you to ask Evie if she would consider it, then ask Diana. Tell both of them your honest reasons. Evie has got to love you for not wanting to risk what you have with her, and Diana has been through this ... well, whatever it is, before."

Jeff sat with his hands locked across his chest for a moment, thinking. "Vows are important..." Jeff started.

"I've already told Evie that I won't touch Linda, well, in that way, before we all say our vows together. Now, my vows, which I take seriously, restrict me to Evie. I haven't even thought about violating them, and I'm not going to start now. When we say new vows — vows written by Evie, and I guess, Linda ... well, me too — then things will be different. But my word has always been something that I lived by. I love Linda, but I'm not going to violate my vows even with her."

Dave returned to his seat with both men watching the dancing flames. Yeah, my friend,  Jeff thought. Wainwright picked the right man to build this place, and I'm darned sure glad I went with his recommendation about a contractor. I'm also glad that I invited you into our family. If you won't violate your word for that sexy little lady, then nothing else would make you do it.

Draining the last of his coke, he put the empty bottle on the table near his recliner. "Talk to Diana and your wife, like I said. We'll go from there. In the meantime, I would suggest that you merely follow the lead of that cute little vixen you're married to. She's probably way ahead of us, anyway.

"Now, let's talk about something else. We had something happen today just after we had left the restaurant..."

After recounting the incident, " ... Joyce says that the police carried the old couple home after they were treated and released from the hospital. Now, carrying someone home often happens with a small police department, but I doubt if it normally works that way with the big departments like Denver. Otherwise, they would soon become a free cab service. Far too many people would take advantage of it. So I suspect that Joyce, and maybe Caitlin, since she's a nurse, had something to do with the special treatment. Anyway, the lady has a couple of stitches in her cheek, and one in her lip from hitting the asphalt. Lord only knows how many they put in the man's arm, but I know it had to be a lot.

"Their names are Jeb and Annie Reich. He's a retired marine, and I think she retired from Sears. I didn't hear what she did there. But we've got a problem. I haven't been by their house to see it and the area, but to make a long story a little shorter; the neighborhood went down quickly when some of it was zoned commercial, so Helen has told me.

"Helen says she knows the area and there are used, as in really used car lots, off brand gas stations with dope dealers, dopers and prostitutes hanging around them, heavy industry only a couple of blocks away. Well, you get the idea. By the time they realized what was happening, they couldn't sell their house for enough to go somewhere else."

Jeff sighed. "I guess that I'm beginning to sound like a pushover. But seeing those two old people fighting for their lives, and fighting as a team, just ... pulled my heartstrings. I was hard put not to kill those two with the knives. I was sorely tempted. Neither of them will ever come closer to death without dying. Never."

Dave suddenly realized that he could feel Jeff's intensity. If Jeff said that the two had come close, Dave decided that they had been gifted with a second life.

"I want you to check out their house and see if there's anything we can do with it when I ... uh, the corporation," he grinned, "buys the property."

Jeff looked hard at Dave. "Next question is what can we put them in? A nice house somewhere in a nice area. I know that you have bought, fixed up and sold houses..."

"Well, yeah. It's only logical. When I see something that I think I can make money on, I buy it, especially if it needs work. That way, when our work falls off, I can put a crew or two on our houses, particularly in the winter. It keeps the guys working and the houses get repaired by experienced crews, without a hassle. Then if we need the crews for other jobs, we just go to the new projects, then come back to the houses when we have down time."

"So do you have anything that would fill the bill?"

"Uh, Jeff. The houses we buy aren't exactly ... uh, fixer-uppers. Think older houses in good, or upscale neighborhoods that the home has gone down a little for some reason. Owners grew old and died, divorce and the house has stood vacant, bank foreclosed ... those kinds of things."

Jeff just grinned at him. "As I said, do you have anything?"

Dave thought for a moment. "The only thing that I have done at the moment is the house that Evie and I were living in. There's another that we just bought a short time ago, but it isn't quite ready, yet. But Korey has asked about renting our house from me, or buying it. We haven't given him an answer, yet. Actually, I wanted to talk to you before I committed to him about anything."

"This with us is a permanent thing. You're family. If you get tired of living in the retreat, pick a place up here and we'll build you a house. I know a reliable builder," he teased.

Dave chuckled, then looked over at his friend. "Evie and I are tickled with the setup here. We have privacy when we want it, plus the run of this fabulous building. I'd be a fool to go anywhere else."

"Okay, so Korey is going to rent or buy your house. What about the other one?"

"Well, Evie and I heard of this place a few weeks ago. It was convenient for us to go look at it, the price was good, so we bought it. It was owned by some executive from U.S. Steel. He and his wife built the house years ago as a getaway. They got old and tired of the cold, decided that Florida was the place to be. It's a great house, way out by itself on five acres. The house is built into one of the foothills out past Carla's place. That's the reason it was convenient for us to go look at it."

"Sounds great," Jeff said.

"Whoa, Boss. This place would never do for the retired marine and his wife. In the first place, it's big. Oh, not on the scale of the retreat, but it has four bedrooms, pool, Jacuzzi, tennis court, the kitchen is fabulous, well ... I don't have anything that would come even faintly in their financial range, considering what you have just told me."

Ignoring Dave's last comment, Jeff said, "The only problem I can see is figuring out a way to get them to take the house. That marine is proud, and old or not, neither of them strike me as being anywhere near stupid."

"Jeff, Evie and I tied up a big chunk of change in this house. We've got a little water damage to repair, plus some new gutters, some painting, the kitchen needs a couple of new appliances to modernize it a little, new tile in one of the bathrooms ... nothing big, just piddling things."

"When can you have it ready? I'll get Frank involved in this. He can bullshit a bullshitter. He'll come up with some bogus government grant or something and authenticate whatever it is until nobody could unravel that it isn't real. Now we just need to get the couple up here so I can get Little One to work on them a bit. No use them suffering through a long recovery, particularly with his arm slashed up like that.

"I want to go look as soon as we can." Jeff stopped and grinned at his friend. "Then again, it's just curiosity on my part. If you say it's nice, then it's a done deal. We'll go get Jeb and Annie first thing in the morning. I'll sic the women on them. Diana will be packing their bags by the time they hear the invitation. Telling Diana no is like talking to that wall when she makes up her mind, particularly about helping someone, and I know that all my wives will like this because they were worried about those two ... Yeah, we'll have a ball."

Jeff leaned back in his recliner, his arms across his chest, fingers interlocked, a smile on his face, thinking.

Dave looked at his friend and smiled, suddenly feeling relaxed, himself. Never a dull moment around here,  he thought. Korey is going to have a stroke when he finds out he has another rush project — but this is a little one. Two or three days with a full crew. If they get the gutters up tomorrow, and the outside trim painted — thank goodness the house is brick — then most of the rest of the work is inside. So the rain won't bother us much. Heck, they won't be able to work on the barn in the rain, and it's supposed to start raining in a couple of days, so that'll take care of one crew for a little while. Korey might even like this.

Both men dozed off making plans.



-------

Chapter 61



LATE TUESDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 17

Bill Madison and Kathy Arnold stood at Bill's door. "I'll see you first thing in the morning. I'll have plenty to dream about tonight," Kathy said, leaning up to touch her lips to his.

"I know you're sore, Baby. We don't have to make love. Why don't you just come and snuggle in my arms for the night?"

Kathy hugged him for a moment. "I'll make love with you any time you want. But I won't spend the whole night with you — not yet." When Bill frowned, she continued, "You still have an awful lot going on in your life, and your divorce isn't final. You don't need me confusing the issues. Oh, I love you; you can be assured of that, but let's wait for the rest."

Bill shook his head. "Baby, I told you that when I picked you up I had made up my mind..."

Kathy interrupted him by pulling his face down for a hard kiss. When their lips parted, she smiled at him, her fingertips caressing his cheek. "I have your attention, now. You won't forget me. We've got to fly early in the morning. Think of me and sleep well," she said, turning toward her suite.

Bill watched until the door closed behind her before turning to his own suite.

-------

EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 18

Jeff left at his usual time for his run. As he glanced at the monitor before going out, he saw big wet-looking flakes of snow falling straight down. Apparently there was no wind. Yesterday had been warm, however, and he guessed that the snow wouldn't stick much unless a lot of it came down. Georgia mentality. The outside thermometer showed thirty degrees Fahrenheit, and he knew that his body would warm up in the distance run even with the light clothes he wore.

In the back, the snow was sticking to the dead grass and trees, but was melting as fast as it fell on the pavement of the driveway. The crisp air felt good in his lungs as he warmed up with a jog as he started down the driveway. By the time he was halfway down, his muscles were ready and he increased his pace, but was careful on the steep slopes and curves, not wanting to slip on the wet pavement. A couple of miles down the county road, his body slipped into Free Fatty Acid metabolism, his breathing normalized and he increased to his full running pace.

After several months of practicing the quiet stride, he could barely hear his shoes strike the road. The fall of the snow muffled things even more as his mind drifted, working through the problems of the coming day.

Later, at the end of his distance, he slowed to a jog, made his turnaround and started back up the mountain, quickly increasing to his running pace again. The snow had continued to come down at a steady, but not heavy rate on the way down the mountain, but a little later as he continued to climb, he realized that it had changed. The higher he went, the harder the snow was falling. Soon, the road was covered, but the tread on his shoes cut through the still-light coating.

By the time he reached the driveway, he had learned a valuable lesson. This wasn't a Georgia snow. It meant business. The snow on the steepest part of the driveway, now two or three inches deep, seemed to not be melting at all. The running treads did little good now, and he slipped almost causing him to fall, but he managed to catch himself in time.

When he walked in the back, after stomping the snow off his shoes on the metal mat, he wasn't really cold — the exertion took care of that, but his feet were. The New Balance shoes that he preferred were well designed for running, but they weren't designed for running in the wet snow. His feet were soaked — and cold.

Diana met him in the mudroom. "Strip," she simply said as she held out a large towel for him to dry off with. Shortly, dressed in a warm robe that he knew she must have held over a heat vent, she ushered him into their suite, then into the shower, babying him.

"Look, Hon, I'm not cold, well, other than my feet. It's still thirty degrees or so, and I've run in colder weather with just running shorts and a tee shirt. Many distance runners do. You know that."

She quickly stripped and pulled him into the water beside her. "Your feet are like ice," she said, after touching first one then the other with her foot. You're my Alpha Male, but that was alpha dumb to go out in this mountain weather with no more clothes on than you had."

"Baby, I can't wear a lot of clothes and run fifteen miles; I'll cook from my own body heat."

"Yeah, well, your feet won't. Besides," she said, grinning, "I read where distance runners' groins get cold even on a reasonably warm day. In cold weather, they get really cold."

"Well, they're not wrong about that," Jeff said.

" ... And, I don't want anything to happen to my favorite toy," she finished, grinning, then as she grasped him, she added, "Oh, my. He's really cold."

Jeff laughed, gently squeezing a titty. "He'll warm up just fine."

Diana stepped out of the shower, then swatted him hard on the ass, the sharp crack loud in the shower room. "I'm more than halfway tempted to have you bend me over the sink, but Linda is here, and I don't want to walk into the kitchen looking fresh fucked in front of her — yet."

Chuckling, she dried off, dressed and was gone.

-------

When Jeff walked into the kitchen, the women, including Linda and Kathy, were just finishing breakfast preparations. As they seated themselves and bowed their heads for a moment around the big table, Diana gave thanks. After the bustle of getting their food from the breakfast bar, the meal was finally in full swing. Jeff took a bite of his eggs, hiding a smile as he noted the seating arrangements. Linda had managed to sit between her dad and Dave. So Dave was bracketed between his wife and Linda, while Bill sat between Kathy and Linda.

Kathy and Bill were dressed in their flight uniforms, but Kathy was a little too casual. When she met Jeff's eyes for a moment, she blushed and quickly looked away. Linda's and Evie's reactions seemed normal enough, although they frequently said something to each other, leaning forward a little to more easily see each other past Dave.

Dave was apparently trying his best to act normally, but he definitely needed acting lessons.

Jeff caught Dave's eye, grinned, then cast his eyes quickly to each of the women sitting on either side of his friend. The sudden inscrutable look on Dave's face was enough. Jeff casually buttered a biscuit, a big smile on his face, which he knew Dave caught.

When Jeff glanced in Diana's direction, the smile slowly drifted away as she glared at him. Quit fucking with Dave was the obvious meaning. Oops.

Later, just before the meal was over, Jeff cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "While we're all together, we need to have a family meeting about something that Dave and I talked a little about last night. My wives and I also discussed it, but not in detail."

Madison started to stand, "Well, the three of us will..."

Caitlin slid her chair back. "Joyce and I will be in our suite for a little while."

"Sit, please" Jeff said. "Everyone here will be involved in this one way or another. You need to hear this, too."

After discussing in depth the family's thoughts on the elderly couple, they voted in their usual way with Jeff looking each in the eye and receiving a nod. "Okay, now that we all agree to bring them up here for a few days as they heal, does anyone have any suggestions about how we're going to be able to get them in the house that Dave and Evie's bought, without it looking like charity?"

There were a couple of tentative suggestion, but no one could come up with anything they believed would actually work.

"How do you know that they're too proud to accept charity?" Dave asked.

Jeff snorted, and Diana said, "If you had been there, seen them and talked to them, you would know."

Joyce broke in, "They would have died together in that parking lot. And even when it was all over, they still had control of themselves and their emotions. They didn't even want to accept a free ride home from the hospital in a police car. When I gave them the keys to their car and told them that the police had driven it home for them from the grocery store lot, they wanted to pay the officer that took their car home. I think you're going to have a very hard time getting them to accept anything."

"I agree with Joyce," Caitlin broke in, "And for that matter, how are you going to get them to come up here so we can take care of them while Jeb heals?"

Noting the "we," Diana smiled at her, "Oh, they'll come, all right. If my sister-wives and I can't convince them, we'll have Jeff suggest that they come up here for a few days."

Laura spoke up. "We should probably call them and tell them we're coming by to check on them, uh, since we're going to be in Denver today. They don't need to know that we're going to be in Denver to see them," she laughed. "But Annie would probably want to be sure her house was straightened up before we barge in."

"Good idea," Diana agreed.

"I have their number in our suite. I wrote it down on a slip of paper when they gave it to the officer writing the report at the hospital," Joyce said.

Jeff rattled off the number, and Joyce stared at him.

"Sorry," Jeff said. "I have a thing with numbers. I heard her tell the officer."

Bill pushed back from the table. "Kathy and I need to head for Boulder. I've slacked my job too long, already. I talked with Tingle just before coming to breakfast. We've got a flight as soon as we can get there."

Bill stopped for a second, "What about Linda..."

"She can go with us this morning," Jeff broke in, "and be in school this afternoon," if that's okay with you, Linda."

Linda just smiled and nodded, as did her dad.

Helen stood as Bill and Kathy did. "I need to get some information from you and Linda before you go so that I can get the paperwork started."

Dave looked at Jeff. "If you're sure about this, I need to see if Korey isn't too tied up to meet Evie and me at the house. We need to look through it again with a notepad in hand. Then see if we can pull a crew off something else for a day or two. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days to bring the house back up."

Jeff nodded, "Do it."

Startling at least a couple of people, Dave turned to Linda who was now standing beside him. "See you later today," he said, leaning over and briefly kissing her on the lips.

When Dave moved aside, Madison didn't comment about the kiss, just hugged his daughter and said, "Take care, Kitten. Show them how smart you are."

"I will, Daddy. And ... thanks," she quietly said.

Bill chucked her gently under the chin with his curled finger.

Helen, now standing in the kitchen doorway, said, "Let's stop by the classroom. I have everything we need there."

In a moment, the pilots, Dave, Evie and Linda had left the kitchen.

Caitlin, who had gotten up to get the coffee carafe, turned to Jeff and motioned with the pot. "Sure," Jeff said, sliding his cup closer.

"Are you certain you want us to be part of this? I mean..."

"Do you need a refresher?" Jeff teased as he touched her hand.

Diana smiled at the two women. "Everyone in this room, with the possible exception of you two, know that you're part of us now. If you have a problem with that," she teased, winking at them, "we'll step out of the room for a while so that Jeff can talk to you," Diana finished with a chuckle.

"No one needs to leave," Jeff said, standing and reaching for Caitlin, who had the deer in the headlights look again.

After thoroughly kissing her, he leaned over and kissed Joyce just as fiercely. There was a collective sigh from the women as the kiss ended.

"Uh, Husband," Laura said, a smile in her voice, "I'm getting images of me with my rump in the air again," she teased.

Diana caught Jeff's eye and nodded toward his younger wives who were all staring at him like hungry lionesses contemplating an antelope dinner. "You're getting stronger," she said. "We all felt you when you kissed them, ramped up that much."

"Never think that it doesn't go both ways," Jeff said, his own face flushed a little.

"What about the snow, Jeff?" Diana asked, looking at the monitor.

"I think it's quit for the most part, but it was really coming down there for a while, at least up here. I doubt if it is going to be much of a problem for the vehicles after the first couple of thousand feet of elevation, though. I'll pop the plow on and make a run down and back. I need to get off my ass and get the snow tires on, before we really get a snow. But even with the regular tires, and without the plow, I doubt if we would have any trouble other than the driveway. There's only a couple of inches, maybe three, but I'm going to use the opportunity to get a little practice with the plow before the real thing comes."

"You be careful, Husband," Laura said.

Jeff sniggered. "The only thing I've got to worry about is people seeing me running the plow in that little bit of snow. They'll laugh their asses off."

Jeff made a pass down and back learning the equipment. He knew that things would be drastically different when a real snowfall came, but this would give him a chance to learn a little.

After he finished, he dropped the plow and parked the pickup back in the garage. Inside their suite, he "helped" Helen with her bra after getting a good sip of nipple.

"How was the driveway?" she asked laughing as he tried to nuzzle under the bottom of her bra.

"Well, it worked I guess. It got most of it off the driveway, and I went a little way down the mountain. Heck, most everything on the equipment is automatic. Even this Georgia boy can run it in this little bit of snow."

"We saw you on the security system," Jennie said. "We had it lock on your truck, and watched you all the way to the country road. It looked like fun. We want to go with you next time you do it."

"Can I drive?" Arlene said, just to hear everyone say, "No."

Laughing, the young wives chased each other down the hallway to get Linda.

-------

The little caravan stopped in front of a well-kept, small brick home. The grass on the small lot was still mostly green and neatly cut, although the middle of September. There were two beds of late-blooming flowers that the women oohed and aahed over. Two large trees were obviously donating their leaves to the roof and grounds, but there wasn't a buildup of leaves in the roof valleys, and what Jeff could see of the gutters was clear and well maintained. The shutters and gutters were a dark green that went well with the brick.

As they stood by their vehicles, Jeff inclined his head toward the end of the block where several young males stood around the street corner near an unkept-looking convenience store. At the house next to the convenience store, a rusted car sat on blocks. Turning in the other direction, he indicated a "used" car lot two blocks away. Jeff shrugged. "The only difference in that place and a true salvage lot, is that they haven't compressed the cars, yet," he half-joked.

"I can see at least five vacant houses from where we stand. I'm not really comfortable even standing here," Helen said, holding her arms tight under her breasts.

Jeff looked back at the house. "Their place looks like it has been transported here from some nice little town. I guess they just stayed a little too long before giving up on the area." Clearing his throat, he said, "Let's see if we can do something about it. Remember, we're not taking no for an answer, even if I have to bodily pick them up and put them in the Escalade."

On, the porch, Arlene rang the bell. A moment later, the curtain moved. Shortly, they heard two deadbolts being opened, then the chain.

The little ball of energy that was Annie Reich had them inside her living room in record time. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I don't have enough furniture for all of you to sit. Wait just a minute and I'll bring in kitchen chairs."

By the time she barely had it out of her mouth, Jeff's younger wives had all found places on the carpet, folded their legs and sat. Linda was only a second behind.

"Oh, my goodness, I can bring chairs," she said just before Caitlin managed to get to her.

"Let me see your face, Sweetie," Caitlin said reminding Annie that she was a nurse, as she gently turned Annie's face from side to side. Her swollen left eye was half-closed and black underneath with big purple and green blotches on her left cheek.

Her right cheek had several abrasions, plus a small cut with two stitches. Her swollen lower lip also had a stitch. The cut on her cheek wasn't covered with a bandage, but was still orangey-yellow from the betadeine solution from the emergency room.

"Everything looks okay. Did they give you anything for pain?"

"Well, yeah, kind of. He told us to just get some Tylenol. The nice police officer stopped by the drugstore for us to get it," Annie said to her.

"He didn't give Jeb a prescription for pain medication?" Caitlin asked, frowning. When Annie shook her head, the frown deepened. "Okay, where's your husband?"

"He went back to bed after breakfast. I need to go help him get his clothes on so he can come in here."

"No need for that," Jeb said, walking somewhat cautiously into the room. "I managed to get my robe on."

The women were instantly up and ushering him to a seat on the couch. Caitlin smiled at Jeb as she leaned over him as soon as he was seated. "I'm the nurse that helped you yesterday. Do you mind if I look at your arm?"

"I'd be a fool to tell a good-looking young lady like you, no," he joked.

Caitlin put a plastic bag on the couch beside him. "Diana was good enough to let me raid her medical supplies," she said, raising one end of the bandage to peek under it. "Looks like your dressing needs to be changed, though." Turning to Annie she asked, "Mind if I wash my hands?"

"Of course not," Annie said leading her down the hall.

A few minutes later, Caitlin had gloved, then cut the bloody bandage off. "Mmmm. Looks okay. Still seeping a little, but that's normal for a cut like this. Did they give you a prescription for anything to put on it, or an antibiotic?"

"No, just told me to get some Tylenol, keep the wound dry, change the bandage daily, and see my regular doctor in a week."

Caitlin's face clouded further. Suddenly, she turned to Jeff, grabbed him by the arm and virtually dragged him down the hallway. When they were out of earshot of the living room, she hissed, "I have never liked that prick that was in the emergency room. He's so damn full of himself that he probably thinks his shit doesn't stink. He didn't even prescribe any antibiotics, although I think he did give Jeb an antibiotic shot of some kind before he did the superb sewing job on his arm," she sarcastically said.

Caitlin fumed for a second. "Oh, the shot might be enough, but Jeb is elderly, his body may not fight off an infection. Coming back for antibiotics after the infection is giving him problems might be too late with someone his age. This should have been treated more aggressively. And just over-the-counter Tylenol isn't nearly enough for the pain he must be in. I'll bet that if that damn doctor had something like this happen to him, he would have demanded to be admitted, would be on some strong antibiotics, and would have been on at least Lortab 10s every four hours, maybe even morphine. But since it wasn't his ass hurting, and just an old man having to endure the pain, he didn't even bother to prescribe anything."

Thinking, tapping her foot on the carpet, she continued, "We need to get him to a real doctor. Did you see those stitches? I wouldn't stitch a dog up like that. The scar is going to be ten times worse and will give him a lot of trouble because of that sloppy job. And that's bragging on it," she fumed.

Staring at Jeff with fire in her eyes, she said, "I want to get him to a regular doctor, get Jeb on the proper antibiotic and get him some real pain meds."

Jeff took her face in his hands. "Caitlin, I'm going to ask you to trust me on this. There are some things that I can't tell you, yet. But I give you my solemn word, Baby, my solemn word, that if those two spend the night with us at the retreat, they will both get up in the morning so improved that you will be amazed. A doctor will only interfere now. Please, let's just get them convinced and ready to go home."

"Jeff, he needs a doctor..."

"My solemn word," he simply said as he stared quietly at her.

Caitlin sighed. "Oh, crap. I know that you're wrong. But, for some reason ... and against my better judgment, I'm going to trust you, anyway. Let me put some over-the-counter antibiotic ointment on the cut and a fresh bandage. That damned doctor should have admitted him. He lost a good bit of blood even with me doing all I could. He's weak as a kitten. I'll have him ready in fifteen minutes. Then we can get him dressed. But if you let me down on this," she said, glaring at him. "I'll..."

Jeff kissed her lightly.

"Oh, don't do that. I can't think when you do that. Let me get started on him so we can go back to that mountain of yours."

Despite their earlier worries about the two having to be persuaded to come home with the Matthews, Annie offered almost no resistance to the idea, knowing that her husband was weaker than she had ever seen him and these people had already proven their caliber. Jeb was just too weak to argue much.

Soon, Annie, Diana, Laura and Helen went to pack while Jeff pulled one of the vehicles into the driveway and as close to the door as he could get it.

Later, Laura volunteered to drive Caitlin's car back to the retreat under the guise of allowing her to stay with her patients. The plan was really to keep both Caitlin and Joyce in the vehicle with Jeff.

They stopped off at the restaurant to get Joyce's car. Later, as they turned into their driveway, Diana, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, turned. "Annie, you might want to keep your eyes toward the inside. That drop-off into the abyss, as we call it, is a little intimidating to start with."

Annie and Jeb looked at each other and shared a chuckle. Turning back to Diana with a smile on her tortured face, Annie said, "Jeb and I used to skydive quite a bit when we were a few years younger. That little hole doesn't bother us a bit," she said indicating the abyss.

Diana sat staring at her for a moment, then laughed softly. "Oh, I think that's hilarious," she said. "That thing scared me so badly the first time we drove up here that I was afraid that I was going to pee my pants. I was so worried that you would be really bothered." Turning back toward the front as Jeff made the turn to the steepest part, powering up the grade, she continued, "And to tell the truth, the darn thing still bothers me a little."

"Who owns the hotel?" Jeb asked as the retreat came into view.

"Well, that's our home," Jeff said, deadpan.

"Home?" Jeb said. "That's a home?"

"Well, it used to be a retreat for a big company, but Jeff sold his invention to the company and we wound up with the retreat for our home," Diana offered.

Joyce leaned forward a little from the back seat. "Yeah, and unless you have a better sense of direction than I do, you'll need a guide or a map to find the kitchen from your suite."

"Our suite?" Annie asked.

"No use trying to describe it to you," Joyce said. "I think Deputy Goodman had it right, though, when we first came up here. He said that the living room — well, one of them — was big enough to play basketball in. It isn't much of an exaggeration."

Jeff parked as close to the door as he could. The girls ran on ahead, opening the door and disappearing for a couple of minutes. By the time that Jeb made his slow way up the few steps and into the mudroom with the women hovering near, Ann pushed a wheelchair through the door. After a sweeping gesture with her hand, she said, "Your chariot awaits. And, yeah, I know that's trite, but I couldn't think of anything else to say," she giggled.

Jeb sighed and eased into the chair, assisted by Laura. He had resisted all help when they got out of the car, but gave up for Ann, having exhausted his strength. "I feel like a wimp riding in this chair," he complained, as Ann turned them around and pushed him down the hall.

"We'll get you to your suite, then bring your lunch when it's ready," Diana said to Annie.

Jeff frowned, but didn't say anything.

"I will eat with everyone else," Jeb indignantly insisted. "I may be weak, but I'm not an invalid. I'll have my strength back by tomorrow."

As the girls tried to convince him that it would be no problem to bring his meal to him, Jeff whispered into Diana's ear. "Let him stay up and eat in the kitchen with us. With him worn out a little more and his stomach full, they might both take a nap. Annie has already said that she was up a good bit of the night last night. The quicker we can get them asleep, the quicker I can use the healer on him, and her too, for that matter."

Diana looked at the girls and nodded toward the living room. "Okay, Jeb, why don't you and Jeff go relax in the living room while we get lunch ready? Come on Annie, we'll show you our kitchen. You'll get a kick out of it."

Ann grinned at her sister-wife and pushed Jeb toward the living room.

After lunch and a quick cleanup, Helen smiled at Linda. "Ready to put your new computer together?"

Linda grinned back at her. "You bet."

Soon the kitchen was considerably quieter as the four young wives, their teacher and Linda left for class.

Jeb and Jeff had remained in the kitchen drinking coffee and talking while the women cleaned up. But with the blood loss, the trauma, and now a full stomach, Jeb was getting more than a little drowsy and fatigued.

Laura said quietly to Diana, "I'll run on and get their bed turned down. Annie looks nearly as tired as Jeb. Maybe they'll both take that nap for Jeff."

"Okay," Diana answered. "We'll be there in a few minutes. And hope for the best. Maybe Jeff will be able to use the healer this afternoon instead of having to wait for tonight to relieve Jeb's pain."

-------

Jeb and Annie sat side by side on the couch in their suite. "These people must have struck gold or something," Jeb said looking around at the continuing display of wealth.

Annie frowned slightly as her husband of fifty years tried to find a comfortable position for his arm. "They told us that Jeff sold his invention."

"Oh, I know that. I was just kidding. They might as well have struck gold, though. There's no telling how many million this place cost. Hell, that driveway cut up the side of that cliff didn't come cheap, either, and I'll bet that piece of glass in the living room cost more than our house. I didn't know they could make a single piece that big. I wonder how they got it up here?" he mused, almost to himself.

Annie leaned her head on Jeb's shoulder, hearing the stress in her husband's voice, even though he was trying to act normally. "This would really be a romantic place to be if you weren't hurt."

"Well, I brought my Viagra," he said, chuckling. "Maybe tomorrow I'll have my strength back and we can christen this place."

"Oh, Honey. I didn't mean that. It can still be romantic without having sex."

"Yeah, it can be. But romance is a lot more fun with a little hanky panky going on to help it out."

"This reminds me of our honeymoon..."

"Hah," Jeb laughed. "That little cabin by the lake wouldn't be a bump on this place."

"Oh, that's not what I mean. I was talking about both places being romantic." They were silent for a moment, then Annie quietly said, "Wonder how many times we've made love?"

Jeb relaxed back into the soft couch. "Oh, I expect we've made love' ... Of course we've fucked about a million," he chortled.

"Oh ... You're impossible."

Jeb laughed, "Yeah, but you put up with me anyway."

Annie snuggled to her husband's good side for a moment, then, "Why don't we take that nap that Diana hinted so strongly about?"

Jeb sighed, then came out with his most common comment, "I hate old age."

"Now, Honey, you mustn't say that. And it sure beats the alternative."

"Not by much, " the old man replied. "There was a time when I would have left those punks lying there and not thought a whole lot about it. Now, look at me," he said, moving his injured arm a little, then wincing as the pain magnified. "I couldn't take out even one of the bastards. If it hadn't been for these nice people, we would be in the morgue right now."

"I know," she quietly said as she adjusted the sling on his arm. "But we've had a good life. And maybe we have some good years left."

"Not likely," Jeb said, "Well, not by much." Sighing, he continued, "Those bastards will probably be out of jail on bond soon. Chances are we won't live out the week that they get out of jail. But maybe I'll be able to get a couple of them with my .45. Well, if I can ever get my right arm to work again."

"The doctor said that there weren't any major nerves cut, and you can still wiggle your fingers. Maybe everything will be okay."

Jeb tentatively moved his fingers a little. "Can't say that I can wiggle them, but I can move them a little. When I do, my arm lights up like a firecracker. Damn thing is swelling now. I can't move my fingers as much as I could yesterday at the emergency room."

Jeb sat quiet for a moment, then continued, "Why do you suppose that these Matthews people wanted our old asses to come way up here? They damn sure don't need a couple of decrepit folks like us getting in their way."

Annie stood to pull on her husband's good arm to help him to stand. "I don't know, but they sure seemed to be checking out our house, and even the neighborhood."

"Hell, I can't blame them for looking around the neighborhood. No telling which doper is going to try to mug you to get money for his next crack rock. And with all those pretty young women, heck, if I was Jeff, I'd be uneasy to. If I ever get over this, I'm going to wear my pistol from now on. It sure didn't do us any good stuck under the front seat of the car."

"Well, it's better the way things turned out — other than your arm, of course. Remember the man that we saw on TV. He shot that burglar in his bedroom, and the burglar's family sued. That couple lost everything that they had. The law only protects the criminals. Us old folks are just prey."

Tugging on his arm again, she continued, "Come on, let's take a nap in that big bed. Maybe before we leave, your arm will be okay for me to ride you a little. You sure aren't going to be doing anything more strenuous until that cut heals some."

Seeing the stress on Jeb's face as they made their way into the bedroom, "It's hurting worse, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jeb quietly admitted, then, "The Tylenol that young doctor told me to take sure don't do much. I can't even tell that I've taken them. He sure was a smartass little son-of-a-bitch."

"Yeah," Annie fumed as she helped her husband. "He already has a double dose of the God complex. Imagine how arrogant he'll be in ten years. Do you want me to ask the Matthews if they have anything you can take? They might have something."

"No. Hell no. I'll be fine. These nice folks have done far too much for us already. Once I get flat of my back and get the arm totally still, it'll feel better. I just want to rinse my teeth off a bit and get a little sleep. I'll be better when I get up."

After using the bathroom, Jeb took his teeth out and thoroughly cleaned them. After using the guest mouthwash, he put his teeth back in. A few minutes later, he was sound asleep on his back, snoring, his aged body exhausted.

Annie stood looking at her husband, worried. I've never seen him this weak. It's a struggle for him to walk at all. Seeing him get into that wheelchair really rattled me. I never thought I'd see him voluntarily sit in one of those things — he has too much pride. Oh, shit, I'm so scared.

After putting on her gown, she crawled into bed, found the remote and doused the lights. As the room was plunged into darkness, she snuggled beside her husband and was quickly asleep, the previous night of near sleeplessness from worry about Jeb taking its toll.



-------

Chapter 62



WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 18

Jeff knocked lightly on the outer door to the suite, waited a moment, then opened it. He crossed to the bedroom, put his ear against the door and listened. Nothing. I can't hear anything with the sound insulation Wainwright put in this place, but if they're not asleep when I walk in, there is going to have to be an awful lot of story telling on my part.

He felt the healer stir on his shoulders, aware of the need for her services, and picking up on Jeff's stress. In a little while, Little One. I've got to make sure they're asleep. Please put them out as soon as you can. Again, it's imperative that they not see you.

{{{ Illogic. I am a healer. I am a healer of Primes and their mates. All should know me. But I will do as you say. My duty is to heal. }}}

Jeff slowly pushed down on the lever, and the door opened soundlessly. Thank goodness for quality even in the latch mechanism. Our bedroom door in Georgia would never have opened that quietly.

As the door cracked open, he realized that the room was dark, save for the nightlight. He had already darkened the sitting room so its light would not shine into the bedroom. Entrance into the bedroom was anticlimactic. Both people were soundly asleep.

The healer came through the neck of Jeff's shirt as she moved from her resting place across his shoulders, her body changing shape as she freed herself from the confines of the garment.

Jeff automatically reached up and took her in his hands. Three steps from the bed, the blue beams came on to bathe the sleeping couple, their breathing deepening even more. Little One wiggled in his hands hurrying him.

Restrained by the sling, Jeb's arm lay across his chest. Jeff put the healer on the elderly man's sternum just above the injured arm. Within seconds, the long, thick bandage parted down its length and was pushed back by the healer's near-invisible tendrils. A pale beam reached out and swiped down his forearm in a blink of an eye. The stitches popped open and her tendrils deftly pulled the pieces of the stitches away. Jeff put the bandage in the trash.

As the healer moved onto Jeb's arm over the injury, the blue glow intensified under her. Jeff watched as she moved so slowly that the movement was almost undetectable, but behind her, there was a near-perfect arm, with only a red puckering to show where the deep cut had been.

Apparently feeling Jeff's thoughts, she transmitted in their cumbersome mutual language, {{{ Compared to your injury with the bear, this is a simple cut. It is relatively deep and almost the length of his forearm, but little tissue was lost. The few major nerves affected are easily repaired, as are the blood vessels. }}}

Thanks Little One.

Jeff had known that the regeneration of the massive amounts of flesh that were gone from his shoulder and upper arm had slowed his healing process significantly. Even so, seeing this injury almost completely healed behind her slow movement along Jeb's arm was impressive.

Again, she offered, {{{ I am now more easily able to acquire the needed energy to expedite the healing process, although I have not completely perfected my access. I had to rely far more heavily on your own body to help manufacture the needed tissue when I healed your injury. In the interim since then, I have taken steps to expand my abilities, since my primary source of power was not adequate for the job. }}}

Jeff acknowledged, wondering if he had correctly interpreted what she had been trying to tell him. What had her primary source of power been, and what was it now? He had just assumed that she had something like an advanced battery that she utilized for power, but now realized that this was virtually cave man thinking, considering her technology.

What could possibly be her source of power? I know that it took a tremendous amount of energy to produce the tissue to repair my wound. My body could never have produced that much tissue in so short a period of time. The implication is that she was strapped for energy when she healed me, but has now somehow acquired another source, or expanded her ability to do so. She has already said that she wasn't originally designed to evolve, or at least, not evolve much. Hmmm. Maybe the ship was somehow her primary source of power. But how could she develop her own power source. Shit, I wish we could really talk to each other. This is almost like those old movies where the white men and he red men "talked" to each other with sign language. But we're progressing. The gap is closing.

An hour later, as Jeff sat dozing in a nearby chair, the glow under the healer changed and she slowly crept off Jeb's arm, then onto the center of his chest where she remained for another quarter hour. As Jeff watched, he felt her mental touch. Going to the bed, he put his hand on her.

{{{ Illogic. Why has this been allowed to happen? His body has deteriorated until it is near total dysfunction. I do not understand. This should not have been allowed to happen. This is (unidentified concept that Jeff finally decided she meant barbarian, or something similar). }}}

It's called old age. We have no way to prevent it. All of us will get old one day, if we manage to live that long. Disease or accident could kill us before then. They are actually lucky to have lived as long as they have and to still be as relatively healthy as they are. Many do not.

{{{ Ridiculous. This is (another unidentified concept, but Jeff was certain that it wasn't polite, considering the feeling that went with it.) }}}

Suddenly the healer transmitted with the equivalent of an indignant mental shout, {{{ They are both this way! }}}

Jeff eased backward to the chair and relaxed. She was pissed with the bear and wanted to go exterminate all of them, but this is every bit as intense — maybe more. She just hasn't decided whom to be pissed at,  Jeff thought with a grin as he watched the glow intensify, yet again.

Suddenly she crept up Jeb's chest at what was a blinding pace for her. She stopped just below his throat and reared up, her tendrils showing only as ghost movements as she carefully prized Jeb's mouth open. While Jeff watched, amazed, Jeb's false teeth seemed to float out of his mouth on the near-invisible appendages. The teeth turned end-over-end, then rotated a half circle.

Jeff didn't even bother to wait. Getting up, he quickly put his hand on her as she continued to manipulate Jeb's teeth, playing beams of different color about them.

{{{ A jumble of concepts slammed into him: anger, bewilderment, outrage, and more. Why? I knew that this planet had no technology, but this ... this ... whatever it is. He removed his teeth and replaced them with ... Oh, I understand. This must be some of your religious concepts. Yes, I must put these religious fixtures back just as they were, or he will be soiled — unholy. I will ask his forgiveness for interfering with his religion. }}}

In her haste to return the "religious fixtures," she tried to put them into his mouth backward and upside down. Realizing her mistake, the teeth rotated, flipped right side up and were back in Jeb's mouth almost to fast to see. His mouth snapped shut.

Jeff winced, hoping the teeth had been where they should be before she abruptly closed his mouth.

Fighting to hold his laughter, and also not transmit anything to her that would seem to be ridicule, he eased back to his seat. I'll try to explain false teeth to her later.

After thinking for a moment, he quietly sighed aloud. If I wait, she will wonder why. Might as well get it over with now. How in the heck am I going to convey this to her? Well, plunked down on my ass in this chair will never get it done. Reluctant, Jeff got up, sat on the side of the bed and placed his hand on the healer.

We need to talk Little One... 

Shortly, Jeff retreated to his chair. He was now almost positive that the healer had a concept of cursing. Her individual thoughts didn't manage to convert into their mutual "language," but he could swear that she was mumbling to herself as Jeb's mouth opened once again. The teeth floated out, were tossed upward where a pale beam touched them. The teeth vanished and there was a pop as air slammed into the space they had occupied.

-------

Fighting not to snigger as he and Little One left Jeb and Anne deeply asleep, Jeff felt her finish molding herself to his back. The discovery of Anne's false teeth had produced another bout of incredulity from the healer. Little One had told him that she would replace the missing teeth and start the healing process, then would continue it the next day as their bodies started to adjust to her programming.

Jeff didn't know how much thought Linda had given to where he had been instead of eating with everyone, but Diana told him that she seemed to have eyes only for Dave and Evie at the supper table. Joyce and Caitlin had noticed, however, but were somewhat appeased when Diana told them that he was working on a "project." Persuading Caitlin to not go and check on her missing patients was another thing, but Diana finally prevailed — at least for a while.

After the meal, Jeff's young wives made a beeline for the game room for the grand finale to their "tournament" that had been going on during what little spare time they had during the last week.

Diana and Laura quickly prepared a serving cart with soft drinks and coffee, while Doctor Boswell, who couldn't wait, went with the girls, somewhat worried that their fierce competition would affect their relationship. Diana had laughed at her and said that it wouldn't, but Helen fretted, anyway.

Joyce and Caitlin were virtually dragged by the girls to come watch.

By this time in their little tournament, it was practically a foregone conclusion that Arlene was going to be the winner, but Ann hadn't conceded anything, yet. Jennie and Melissa were fighting for third place, but didn't seem to be bothered that their scores were only two-thirds that of Arlene's.

Thirty minutes later, Jennie and Melissa agreed that they were so evenly matched that they would just share third place. As everyone focused on Ann and Arlene, Linda quietly said, "I wished Daddy could see this."

"See what, Kitten?" Madison said as he and Kathy, dressed in their flight uniforms, walked into the room.

"Oh, Daddy," Linda said, launching herself into a hug, then doing the same to Kathy. "I thought you were gone until Friday."

"We did too," Kathy laughed, but when we got to Saint Louis, we had a shakeup in flight schedules. One of the VIPs had to get to Denver in a hurry, so we're back for the night. "What's going on?" she finished, looking toward Arlene and Ann as they battled through screen after screen, the action almost too fast to follow.

Linda smiled at the couple. "This is what I was talking about. I thought I was good, and I destroyed the kids in our neighborhood and at the game room, but they're way beyond me," she said, motioning toward the two fighting to be first to finish the last level of their last game of the competition.

Madison watched for a moment, then glanced at Jeff.

Jeff, propped against one of the machines where he had a good view of the action said, "Don't look at me. They trash my butt so easily that it's embarrassing, and even then, I have a hunch that they're taking it easy on me."

A moment later, Arlene triumphantly finished, followed a couple of minutes later by Ann doing the same.

"You slacked off at the last," Ann accused as she turned to Arlene. "You could have finished ten minutes ago."

Arlene grinned at her sister-wife. "It's called fatigue. My mind was getting dull. I'm glad we didn't have another level; you would have caught me for sure."

Ann reached over and lightly kissed Arlene on the lips. "You are such a liar, but I love you anyway," she teased.

As the girls grabbed drinks, their enthusiasm still high as they discussed tactics and monsters, or levels that they had trouble with, Jeb and Anne had awakened in their suite.

-------

Jeb found the control and dialed the light up with his good arm. "I had the strangest dream."

Anne looked at her husband for a moment. "I had one, too. If it was a dream. It seemed so real. I kept seeing blue and feeling ... odd."

"Me, too," Jeb acknowledged, inadvertently moving his arm, wincing as he expected the pain to hit. Then he focused on his arm — his arm. Not his bandaged arm.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, peering at the appendage like it belonged to someone else and had somehow attached itself to his body.

"Honey," he whispered.

"Yeah, I see it," Anne said, quietly, awe in her voice. Thinking for a moment, she continued, "Maybe that dream we had wasn't just a dream."

"My arm, Baby," Jeb whispered, moving his arm around, stretching it out, then flexing it as he stared at the faint red line running the length of his forearm, except for a faint, somewhat puckered, four inch scar left in the middle.

"This doesn't make sense," Jeb started.

"Oh, yes it does," Anne broke in. "The Matthews showing up and insisting that we go home with them. I think I heard that nurse talking about carrying us to another doctor, but Mr. Matthews was shaking his head."

"But what's that got to do with this? We didn't go to another doctor. And besides, what doctor could do this?" he said, holding his arm up, yet again.

"None could," Anne said shaking her head. "But didn't they say that Matthews, uh, Jeff, sold some kind of invention and got paid with this building, and there was obviously a chunk of money to go with it?"

"Yeah, they said something about it, but I was hurting so bad that I didn't pay a lot of attention."

Anne leaned over and traced the red line with a fingertip. "I suspect that we know what the invention was, now. Either that, or he has another invention. I just can't understand why these rich people decided to help us. I mean, we're old; all we own is our house, and have a little in the bank." Suddenly, she stopped for a moment, then, "Jeb ... I don't hurt," she said, quietly.

Her husband hesitated for a moment, then an incredulous look passed across his face. "I was so focused on my arm, and I hadn't moved around much, so I didn't even notice. God, I forgot what it was like. I've hurt for so many years, it seems ... odd to not hurt."

"Oh, Jeb, what's happened to us?"

Jeb grinned, "I don't know, but if this guy has a company, I want to buy some stock in it."

"How are we ever going to repay them for this?"

Both of them glanced down at almost the same time. Jeb grinned at his wife. "Uh, what do you reckon that hump in the sheet is?"

Anne raised the sheet a little and peered under at his hard cock that had pushed through the opening in his boxer shorts. "Oh, Honey. I haven't seen George look like that in ... a while."

"Yeah," Jeb said, grinning. "About thirty years of 'a while.'"

"Well, with the Viagra, he did okay."

"Hah," Jeb responded, "even with the blue pill, he only got about halfway up. Now, he's acting like a man."

"Seems a shame to waste him," Anne said, circling her husband with her hand, "but we didn't bring any KY jelly. And I don't lubricate any more..." Hesitating a moment with an odd look on her face, she continued, "Jeb," she whispered, "my panties are wet."

"Well, do you suppose..."

"'Suppose, ' Hell. Get up here and do me, Stud," she said snatching her panties off, rolling onto her back and spreading her legs. "We'll worry about how it happened when we're trying to wipe the grin off our faces."

-------

Thirty minutes later, Jeb staggered to the bathroom, flopped his dick over into the sink and washed his groin. He eyed his rejuvenated appendage and thought, He looks like he did when I was twenty. Chuckling to himself, he amended, Well, he looks like I think he looked at twenty. That's so far back that I'm really not sure. But I am sure that's the first time I've been able to come, then keep on fucking for a long, long time. Instead of that spoonful of thick stuff that dribbled out of my dick, it squirted — both times we fucked. Anne jumped like she had touched a live wire when she felt my semen.

Drying himself, he looked into the mirror. Fuck, some of the age spots are gone from my face. Holding his hands out, he discovered that they too had lost a lot of the "liver" spots. Shrugging, still mystified, he tugged on his upper plate to give it a good washing. Nothing happened. Tightening his grip a little after deciding that the teeth were merely stuck a little tighter than usual, he tugged hard.

A frown crossed his face as he felt a slight pain from his front teeth. He thumped them hard with a fingernail. The frown increased. He got closer to the mirror, turning his head a little to the side, trying to peer into this mouth.

"Ammhhee," he mumbled as he pulled on his lower plate, or what he thought was his lower plate.

"Did you call me?" she asked as she walked into the bathroom to find her husband trying to get his hand into his mouth. "What in the world are you doing?"

"Ih campft gert mfy teef oft," he mumbled again, still tugging.

"Oh, for goodness sakes. Take you hand out of your mouth if you're going to talk. You sound like an idiot."

"My teeth won't come out," he said, turning to her, a strange look on his face.

"Oh, that's ridiculous," she said. "You probably just put too much adhesive on them."

"I didn't put any," he got out before she grabbed his top plate and yanked.

"Oyohh," he said as his head was jerked forward.

Before he could object again, Anne had pulled his mouth open wider and was peering at his front teeth.

"They're real," she gasped. "These aren't your dentures. They're real teeth. Perfect,  real teeth. And I can see them up close without my reading glasses," she finished, stunned.

Her hand flew to her own mouth, and she went through the tugging process on herself, then climbed on the vanity, her knees straddling the sink, her face near the mirror as she tried to peer into her mouth.

Jeb seized the opportunity since her naked ass was stuck out almost in his face. He popped her on her bare butt, interrupting her mouth inspection. "What's that running down your leg?" he said, bending down, exaggerating his posture and look as he pretended to inspect the volume of come on her thigh.

"I think it's called come," she said, laughing and wiggling her ass, before getting down. "I haven't seen that much of it in a few years, though," she giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "My goodness, I just plain feel good."

"Yeah. Me too," he chuckled. "Want to see if we can do it a third time?" he asked, rubbing his slowly swelling cock against her ass.

Anne spun around and hugged him fiercely. "If we did, I wouldn't be able to walk, and I'm hungry."

"Hmmm," Jeb said, hugging her back. "That makes two of us. Suppose they have anything left? They're bound to have eaten hours ago."

"Well, if you can find that kitchen for us, I'll bet I can find something for us to eat. We need to talk to the Matthews about this. Do you suppose it's permanent? I mean..."

Jeb turned her face up and kissed her. "I don't know, Baby, but even if it isn't, well..."

"Let's hurry and get dressed. Maybe they're still up."

-------

Jeff, his older wives, plus Joyce and Caitlin were in the living room talking and having a good time. Well, mostly.

Caitlin was fed up. She stood with her hands on her hips glaring down at Jeff who was relaxing on his favorite recliner. "Diana has put me off," she said, glancing toward Jeff's first wife. "Well, tactfully. But still she put me off. Now you're being evasive, too. I want to see my patient. Practically as soon as we got here, they're off for a 'nap, ' and they didn't come back. Everybody seems to think this is perfectly normal."

Looking around her, she continued, "I'm not stupid. What's going on?"

As Jeff leaned forward to get up, she backed a step away. "No, I don't want you to hold me and ask me to 'trust' you. I wind up doing just that. I want to see my patients. Maybe they're not technically my patients, but I feel responsible for them. Jeb needs some antibiotics and someone to treat that arm who cares. That asshole in the emergency room doesn't. And Jeb needs something that will actually help him with his pain."

Joyce tried again to calm Caitlin, but she glared at her lover. "He's got you under his spell, or whatever he does. Well, I guess me too," she sheepishly said. "Look," glancing around her at all the concerned faces, "I don't want to start an argument. I not saying that you don't have good intentions, but I've got to check out Jeb's arm. An infection would go hard with him as old as he is. Chances are that his body won't be able to fight off a serious infection like someone younger..."

Jeb and Anne stepped into the living room. "Told you I could find the kitchen," Jeb said to Anne. It's just down the hall from here..."

He stopped as every eye riveted on his arm that was no longer in a sling. Caitlin practically launched herself across the room. Taking Jeb's hand, she almost reverently lifted his arm to examine it. Mystified, she first looked at Jeb's face, then back at Jeff as a grin quirked the corner of his mouth. Quickly, she turned to Anne, then tenderly took her face in her hands, gently turning her head to search for the bruises and abrasions that had been so evident a few hours ago. She touched Anne's lip that had been stitched and swollen, stared at a face that now showed no sign of injury.

Again, she picked up Jeb's arm and ran her fingers along the faint red line, then across the slight puckering for a few inches in the middle of the original cut, wondering.

Diana, now beside Caitlin, nodded to the puckering in the middle of the otherwise near-invisible wound. "I think it's a vanity scar that was left there on purpose. Sort of something to 'brag' about later."

Caitlin looked at her as if she had lost her mind, then took a deep breath. "How could this heal in a few hours?" she quietly asked as she looked into Jeb's eyes. Turning quickly to Jeff, she said, her tone almost an accusation, "You knew. But how?"

Diana swept by Caitlin to take Anne by the hand. "Come on. We have your food ready. All we have to do is put it on the table."

Joyce looked at Caitlin for a second, just as mystified as she was, then quickly followed the others.

As Anne and Diana turned for the door, with Helen and Laura escorting Jeb, Caitlin spun toward Jeff, who was now almost directly behind her — closer than she expected. She bowed her head a little, unconsciously tugging at his shirt, "I guess I made a fool of myself. And I fussed at everybody."

Jeff pulled her against him, tilted her face up and gently kissed her. "You were doing what you had been trained to do. You were doing it with compassion and concern for your patients. Don't even think about apologizing. No one is mad at you for taking care of those two fine people."

Caitlin pulled back from the hug a little, looking up into Jeff's face. "What's going on, Jeff? How did you do it? I feel like I'm in a dream. Jeb and Anne walk in here healed. Jeb's wound should have taken months to completely heal — if it ever would at all at his age.

"Joyce is accepting this ... this ... whatever you are doing to us a lot easier than I am. She told me this afternoon that I needed to watch you shoot. And she just grinned at me when I asked her why. I know that there's something special about you. I never thought that I would fall in love with someone else after Dad. And this thing about pheromones — I've never read where it has been proven that men or women even produce pheromones. But even if you do, there's something else."

Unconsciously, she snuggled against Jeff's chest as she continued, "Oh, I've seen men that women just seem to go after. One of them was in a class with me, and he wasn't even very good looking, but he always had women around him. But this is more. Joyce and I can feel your love for us. That isn't pheromones. Now this thing with Jeb and Anne ... Jeff, this is driving me crazy. Everyone seems to know what's going on except Joyce and me."

Jeff nudged her toward a nearby couch, then pulled her close to him as they sat, but she turned, pulling back a little to look him in the eyes. "I assume that you have an invention that you used on Jeb and Anne. But why are you keeping it a secret from us? Jeff, you know we wouldn't try to steal it..."

Jeff looked startled, then broke into a grin. "That never crossed my mind." As Caitlin tried to continue, he put his fingertips to her lips. "Wait. Believe me, I would love to be able to tell you what happened to those two, but the absolute truth is that I can't. And before you say anything," he continued when she tried again to speak, "I literally — literally — cannot. It has nothing to do with trusting you or Joyce. Possibly, one day I will be able to tell you, but for now, I'm going to have to ask you to not talk about this to anyone."

"But ... but, his arm was healed in a matter of hours, and Anne's face doesn't even look like anything happened. Jeff, you can't keep something like this a secret. If you've invented something, it will revolutionize the medical field. What is it, Jeff? You can't do this to me. I work in a surgical intensive care unit. You have no idea how many patients I've seen die. I..."

Jeff gently kissed her, but she pulled back. "I can't think when you do that," she said again.

Jeff sighed. "Caitlin, let's put it this way. In all sincerity, if you start telling people about this, I will be dead, shortly."

Caitlin looked at him and blinked. "Oh, I know that the pharmaceutical industry would be pissed. They darn sure wouldn't want this to hit the market. But whatever you did has obviously gotten both of those people feeling good, and looking the same, but this has got to be made public. You're rich. You could hire enough security that nothing would ever happen to you. And this, whatever it is, could make you the richest man on Earth."

She stopped for a moment, thinking how good Jeb and Anne looked. "It can do more, can't it? It can do more than heal wounds? Oh, shit Jeff, what have you invented? Oh, Jeff, this could save countless lives."

Jeff sighed and pulled her tightly against him. "To use an expression that I get tired of hearing, but is probably appropriate now, 'We're on the same page about this.' But this can't go public — not right now, anyway. Maybe one of these days when some things have changed, but remember what I said. If you tell about this, I probably won't live out the day. And I'm totally serious. Bear with me, and after you and Joyce become my wives — maybe I will ... be able to tell you."

"But ... everyone else obviously knows. At lease Helen, Laura and Diana do. They were practically ho hum about his arm being healed. Why?"

Jeff snuggled her to him, his mind a turmoil. The others had to learn about the healer because of the bear attack. I got away with that with just an ass chewing for good measure. But that arrogant son-of-a-bitch will take a lot of convincing before he will believe that a nurse and a deputy will keep this secret — particularly the nurse. Ah, shit. If he does give me permission to tell them, I know what the cost will be. And we're going to keep fucking around on that planet until we bite off more than we can chew.

He tugged Caitlin tighter to him and tried to send trust to her.



-------

Chapter 63

WEDNESDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 18

After the talk with Caitlin, Jeff called Joyce to meet with them in the living room. He sat between them on the couch hugging them to him, with Diana in a chair nearby. Both he and Diana stressed how important it was to keep Jeb and Annie's healing a secret. Without a viable reason to give them, plus the rest of the family's obvious knowledge, made it a hard sell, particularly to the nurse. Joyce gave her word, then reluctantly Caitlin did the same, though.

"One day, you'll know why and everything will make sense to you."

Diana's derogatory noise didn't help that statement any, and Jeff quickly amended his comment to reflect that they would know as much as anyone else.

Diana soon left with Caitlin and Joyce in tow. Jeff remained in the living room, brooding, staring into the fire.

-------

Jeff looked at his watch. It's not really that late. I'm going to see if I can get this started. Picking up the phone, he got Dave on the intercom, then dialed Wainwright's home number. When Frank answered, Jeff told him that Dave was on the extension with them, then told Frank about wanting to buy the house from Dave and Evie for Jeb and Annie. "They're at the point where they will just about have to accept anything we do for them, but I want to salvage as much of their pride as I can. Frank, you were talking about 'government grants' one night..."

Wainwright interrupted by chuckling.

"What's so funny?" Jeff asked, a little irritated that Frank was laughing at his 'government grant' plans.

"I'm not laughing at you," Frank said as the chuckling continued. "It's just that you have come to the right person, because I've done this before. I — well Margaret and I — have put several people through school with a 'government grant, ' plus helped a few others, that they still think is real, or was real, as the case may be. But if we're going to do this, we need to get your accountant on the line with us. No use going over this again with him when we can do it all in one go."

A few minutes later, having gotten Jeff's accountant on the line with them and filled him in, Frank Wainwright continued, "Okay, I'm going to rough this out, then you, Billy, can get in touch with my accounting department and talk to Megan as need be. And since she's already done this several times, she more or less has it down to the old proverbial fine art. The tax people haven't even seemed to blink, for the foundation is real and it can't benefit me in any way. And, of course, Jeff, you can't benefit financially, either. If you're going to help these people, it might just as well be tax deductible, though."

Before the conversation was over, Jeff's lawyer in Denver was added to the conference call along with Wainwright's accountant, setting into motion the following:

Helping Jeb and Annie Reich without them feeling like they were receiving charity would be done by having it come from several sources. Jeff would create a general charitable trust and a family charity. The trust would then donate funds to groups, lesser charities (including his family one) and specific civic projects such as Helen's dreamed of aquatics center, her former swim team, etc., while gifts to individuals/families would come from the family charity.

Jeff and his companies would make tax-deductible donations to the trust each tax year to reduce income taxes. The trust's funds would earn investment income tax free as long as at least five percent of its gross assets were distributed for charitable causes yearly. Aid to the Reiches would come by several means from the family charity to hide Jeff as the ultimate source of all of it.

The trust would have Jeff, Diana, Arlene and Jeff's accountant serving as its initial directors with options to add more later. The three professionals were certain that the trust would receive provisional approval and immediately start its work. Jeff, Diana and Arlene had the task of defining broad terms for determining its charitable gifts. The lawyer and Frank noted that they could not use the trust itself as a conduit of a gift to a particular predetermined person — its donations had be determined based on the written policy they had to write, so there were legal as well as personal reasons for having the aid to the Reiches come from multiple sources. Jeff's family charity could be more flexible here than the charitable trust, but would still need its own board and written gift policy.

Jeff added that he'd have to find other individuals to help so that Jeb and Annie would not be the first or last to be helped. Listening quietly, Dave suggested that Jeff consider making the trust gift terms be broad enough to allow it to not merely make distributions to lesser charities, but allow the trust itself, when its officers and board noticed specific instances of need, to give assistance to individuals varying from a small amount such as gasoline or a tire repair for a stranded traveler to something much more substantial. That way trust personnel who weren't in Jeff's family could do some good themselves. When Jeff suggested Dave could be a director, Dave laughed, saying that wouldn't be wise as he could give away the money too quickly.

Jeff imagined his friend sitting in his apartment with his phone in hand thinking he had ducked that one. My friend we will talk later. You are not going to get off that easily. But that gets me started thinking about the need to make this much broader — Helen would be an ideal director. Perhaps I should put her in charge of finding worthy individuals and charities to give to.

Wainwright said this had worked better for him but that keeping with the approved guidelines was critical. The accountant and lawyer concurred. Then Frank noted that these organizations needed names. "Worse, we've got to have acronyms — horrid acronyms," Wainwright said, laughing.

Jeff hesitated for a moment, "How about FSHDVSD? That should sound official enough," he chuckled. "Federal Senior Housing Department — Veterans Studies Division."

The lawyer and both accountants groaned, while Dave and Wainwright laughed.

Wainwright continued, obviously choosing his words carefully as he went, "The charitable trust would have a serious amount of money and eventually need separate, professional management even if the board is all family and friends. I set one up myself. The family charity with less money would have a legally distinct board, even if those are the same individuals as the trust's board, but be more informally operated.

"The family charity's purpose is to provide special and unique charitable assistance to individuals and families who need help and where such assistance will make a meaningful difference to their personal well-being. Such difference may be, but not limited to education and training, personal health and safety, securing and/or maintaining of employment and/or their home, food and clothing."

"Let's see," Wainwright said after a pause, "All that is needed is for two of the family charity's directors to concur on the assistance and to communicate to the treasurer (the accountant) that assistance is to be given in a designated manner, and to have documentation outlining how such assistance meets the criteria and policies of the organization. Assistance of course has to be truly worthy and the documentation is critical to doing that."

The accountant reiterated that assistance could not go to themselves or those related to them.

"Uh, absolutely correct," Wainwright answered, "Now suppose that this FSHDBSD," he chuckled "is a poorly publicized program and it's soon to end. Receiving the grant allows the Reiches to receive a 'double match' from our so-called government agency — we infer that it's a government agency — and they need to do it quickly before it expires."

Dave broke in. "Look, I know this sounds a little on the fritzy side, but I drove over there today. There are a lot of empty houses, closed stores and the like, and it's really not that far from the downtown area. I know that the city has been involved in a big way in redevelopment..."

" ... and they've been handing out grant money like it was free," Fontaine (the Denver attorney) said. Jeff's accountant, Billy, whistled to murmured agreement from the other accountant.

"Evie and I discussed the possibility of buying an area there and seeing if we can get a redevelopment grant for a mid-range to high-end condo project. A lot of cities are doing this now. Jeb and Annie's house could bring a lot more than they expect if we add it to the area we're going to buy," he laughed. Meaning that they could fudge the amount upward without the couple realizing that they had been given more than their property was worth.

Jeff broke in. "Those two will know that we're slinging bullshit, but it will salvage their pride. Are you really thinking about buying up some of that area?" Jeff asked, "Or did you just get the idea to help those two out?"

"Well, obviously we want to help them, but we sat in front of their house, I guess after you were already gone, and talked about what was happening to the area. I don't know; it just ... seemed like a good idea. It just came as a rush. The city is making loud noises about redevelopment — it was even on TV the other night — and Evie and I have done this kind of thing before, just not on this scale. Admittedly, Evie usually tends to pull her hair out when I come up with these schemes, but this time she just looked at me and blinked. Then, with a twinkle, she jumped into the planning."

"Well, if you're going to do it, I want in," Jeff said. "If it's okay with you of course?"

"Saves us borrowing the money. I don't have nearly enough to build high-end condos, plus buying up all the property, without financing it. After looking at another two or three blocks we could also expand the project further. What about it, Evie?"

Evie, who had been listening on the extension, laughed. "To use Jeff's term, 'Damned straight.'" She got the inflections right, too.

Jeff groaned, and everyone else laughed.

Wainwright finally got a word in, "Me, too. Count Margaret and me in, please. Uh, if you're willing, of course."

"Certainly," Dave and Jeff said at the same time, then both laughed.

"Mr. Matthews and Mr. Henson, I would also like to get in on the property investment," Billy (Jeff's accountant) said.

Before either man could answer, Fontane jumped in with, "Count me in, as well. And my services, of course, will be free of charge for the matter."

Billy, not to be outdone by a lawyer, quickly spoke up, laughing. "Well I don't charge what an attorney does, but my services would also be free of charge."

"Does anyone have any objections to our attorney and accountant being part of our development project?" When there was no negative response, Jeff said, "Okay, you guys are in, too. We'll discuss the details later."

"Sounds good," both men said almost in unison, then laughed.

Fontaine cleared his throat, then added, "We both have connections where we might learn of similar opportunities in the future. One of my assistants attends all city council meetings to keep me abreast of what is going on. I'll admit, that I haven't paid much attention to the redevelopment projects, but I'll have Serena bring me up to date. She takes detailed notes, and I'm almost certain that I can help with information that you might need in that area — and for future projects."

"We need to get together," Fontaine told Billy.

"Okay," Billy answered. "I'll need to do some research and get things lined up about the grants, but it shouldn't take me long tomorrow. I'll call you as soon as I have everything roughed out. That sound okay?"

"Fine, I'll tell my secretary to expect your call."

"We need to get this done in a hurry," Jeff cautioned.

"The paperwork will take a while," Wainwright said.

"Well, in the meantime, I guess we'll just bullshit them," Jeff sighed. "I really want to help these people, but I had rather do it so they can hold their heads up."

"It will work," Billy broke in. "There won't really be a government agency with matching funds, it will be your agency — both of them. But I guarantee that they will never know."

"Good enough," Jeff sighed.

Shortly, the accountants and lawyer said their goodbyes and hung up, leaving Jeff, Dave, Evie and Wainwright on the phone.

"You're going to be here Friday night, right?" Jeff said to Wainwright.

"Oh yes, Margaret and I will certainly be there. With a double birthday, there's no way we're going to miss it. We'll need to talk as well. Those Denver guys smell big money in the redevelopment idea Dave mentioned."

"I gathered that," Jeff replied, "it sounded like they about had erections."

Frank chuckled, "They see a wonderful opportunity to do well by doing good, courtesy of your charities. That gives them a legitimate interest in the area which they can use in their day jobs, both in advising their other clients and getting in on some of the deals those clients will make. We'll do quite well too."

"Where's Margaret? I assume you would have put her on if she were there.

"Hah. With a double birthday party, where do you think she is?" Wainwright laughed. "Shopping."

Jeff chuckled, "Okay. Take care and see you then," and hung up.

He sat for a moment, thinking, then punched intercom and dialed Dave and Evie's apartment again. "You two get your butts down here. I've got to hear more about this." Hanging up, he couldn't wait to tell his wives and hear more about Dave's scheme.

-------

Thirty minutes later, Jeb and Annie stepped into the room.

Dave grinned at Jeff. "Boss, Evie and I are going to turn in. She's been chasing me all day," he said, just to embarrass her in front of the older couple.

Evie blushed crimson. "He is so lying. It's been the other way around."

Evie finger waved at Jeb and Annie and Dave dragged her out the door, both of them laughing.

"They really seem like nice folks," Jeb said, still grinning.

"Indeed, they are," Jeff said. "As far as I'm concerned, they're two of the best people in the world."

"Mr. Matthews, could we speak with you for a moment?" Jeb said.

Jeff motioned to the couch, indicating for them to sit. "Sure. What's on your mind?" It was all that Jeff could do to keep from sighing. Here it comes again. They must be mystified beyond belief after waking up with new teeth and their injuries healed. But I couldn't let Jeb suffer, and even I know there was an excellent chance of that long cut getting infected, especially without antibiotics. And poor Annie's face looked terrible. Oh, crap. I keep digging myself in deeper. I've put them off as long as I can. Now what in the heck am I going to tell them?

When the couple sat, "There isn't a Mister Matthews in here. Remember. Will I do?" teasingly reminding them that he had asked to be called Jeff. "And besides, you two have insisted that we call you by your first names."

Annie looked hesitant, but sat quietly while Jeff turned his chair toward them.

Jeb looked at his wife for a moment, took her hand, then turned back to Jeff. "Annie and I have a new set of teeth — real teeth. My cut is healed and her face as well. Now you folks have already told us that you sold an invention and got this ... hotel as partial payment. So, I guess that you've used that invention on us, or maybe you've invented something else." He again glanced at his wife for a moment, "What I'm trying to say is that we've put up a little money. Oh, not much, but some. Normally, I would say that it's foolish for old folks to invest. They just don't live long enough for it to make any sense. But, well, the way we feel right now, it's kinda obvious that we've not got that foot in the grave that we had when we came up here."

Crossing his legs and looking uncomfortable, he continued, "I guess I need to say it straight out. Could we take that little we've got saved up and invest it in your company? Obviously, when your invention hits the market, your stock is going to skyrocket, or the company that you've sold your invention to is."

Oh crap. What am I going to tell them? "Uh, my invention was an advanced ... well, radar will give you the idea, although it really isn't. What caused your wounds to heal, and uh, your teeth to grow back is something that I can't talk about."

Fifteen minutes later, Jeff had two more people looking at him strangely. Clearing his throat, he casually remarked, "Now that I've thoroughly confused you and maybe made you wonder about my sanity, I've got something else to discuss with you. I've been in touch with a friend of mine — well, more family than friend. He and his fiancée live here on the weekends and whenever else they can get up here. He's the one that I sold my invention to. Anyway, he deals with the federal government a lot, and I mentioned your house and that you needed to get out of the neighborhood, but couldn't sell since everything had gone down so much in the area."

Jeb and Annie glanced at each other as Jeff continued, "Dave just told me yesterday that he has a nice house not too far from here that he's almost finished doing an upgrade on, getting it ready to sell. Anyway, I just got off the phone with Wainwright."

Jeff cleared his throat. "My accountant thinks he can come up with enough funds from grants to make up the difference in the value of the two houses. We want to buy your house and put you in a very nice one not too far out of Winter Park. It was owned by a retired executive who got tired of the cold and snow and moved to Florida. We decided that you would balk if you thought it was charity, but we're concerned about you going back to the area after what happened."

Annie squeezed her husband's hand. "Mr. Matthews..." At Jeff's frown, she changed it to, "Jeff, you, your wife and your family have gone out of your way for us. But to tell you the truth, I'm terrified that those three will get out of jail on bond and come after us. They work for one of the local big dope dealers, but to our knowledge no one has ever lived to testify against anyone in his organization. Folks just turn up dead, or disappear. We figure that's going to happen to us. Might even happen if they don't manage to get out on bond. This Rayfield guy will probably have us killed for having the gall to mess with some of his flunkies. In other words, we lived instead of dying when they robbed us."

"Now, Honey. It's not that bad. I've still got my .45. We're just going to have to be careful..."

"Bullshit, Jeb. You know they'll be after us."

Annie looked around at all Jeff's wives who had quietly settled around them, listening to the conversation. "A couple months ago, we woke up when our bedroom door opened. When I flipped the bedside light on, this guy was walking toward us with a knife in his hand. Jeb grabbed his gun from under the pillow..."

Jeb broke in with, "I'm so damn old that it took me a while to get on my feet. By the time I got to the living room, he was going back out the window. I shot him in the ass, and he fell the rest of the way out. When the cops got there, he was lying on the ground under the window. He wasn't going anywhere, and from what we heard later, the doctor told him he would always have a bad limp. That .45 did a job on his hip.

"Well, anyway, this young cop was writing up the report when this older sergeant walked in. He read over the narrative that the young cop had written, then both of them went outside for a while. When the young cop came back in, he started the report all over again. He said things like, 'Now let me get this straight. He had a knife in his hand and you were in fear of your life. Is that right?'

"Well, I may be old, but Momma didn't raise any retards, so I said, that was about the way it was. Then he said something like, 'By the time you got the safety off and fired, the guy must have turned around, but in the dark it would be hard to tell. So the bullet hit him in the rear instead of from the front.' Oh, he went on and on. It was basically the same story, but with a little different slant on it."

Jeb grinned. "The sergeant came back in and reread the report, then gave us a lecture about lawyers and lawsuits, seemingly unrelated to the incident, just talking, you understand — making conversation. Then he winked at us and left. We got interviewed by a detective, and an assistant DA even came out to the house and talked to us. I guess he came out instead of calling us in because we are so old. I got the impression that I came close to going to jail for shooting the guy as he crawled back through the window, the threat to us being 'over' and all. 'Course, he would have come back later and killed us. Anyway, we haven't heard anything else."

Jeb frowned. "Then again, maybe the deal in the grocery store parking lot wasn't really a robbery after all. That first asshole yelled something about giving him our money, but hell, he stabbed at me with that knife before I could even reach for my billfold. Shit. How damned dumb can I be? They weren't after money. This was payback for shooting that burglar in the ass."

Realizing that he had cursed in front of the girls, he began apologizing, but the women and girls shushed him.

Jeb and Annie looked at each other, a silent communication happening between them. Annie glanced around at everyone. "Let us think about your wonderful proposition; sleep on it. I'm honestly afraid to go back there. What you're offering is a Godsend. We may just have to suck up our pride and accept your charity. Besides," she laughed, "as old as we are, we probably won't be in your house very long, anyway."

"Uh, it's not really charity," Jeff tried to say, as Annie and Jeb grinned at him, "We're thinking about buying up the area where your house is and building condos. The city has a redevelopment project going on, and with us buying up several blocks, your lot might be worth a lot more than you think. I'm not the only investor interested in your area. I just learned about it because of you, rather than through business channels. But your area won't change fast enough for you to stay there, so I'll at least get you full value for your property."

Jeff shifted in his chair. "The house we're talking about for you actually belongs to Dave and Evie, but we might be able to get a grant or two to make up the difference in your old property and the new. The paperwork will take a while, but Dave and Evie don't have a problem with you going ahead and moving into the house. I talked to my accountant, and he assured me that you would qualify for a grant that he knew about. Whatever happens, the house will be yours."

"Mr. Matthews, in all due respect, I hope you never have a job that requires lying. You'll starve to death." As Jeff's face turned red, Jeb continued. "Looks like we're caught between a rock and a hard place though. So, I suspect that we'll wind up sucking up our pride and taking you up on your offer. But, no offense, please let Annie and I think on it tonight. I don't want to get my wife killed by these hoodlums, and what you're saying sounds like my wife said, a Godsend, but remember, it doesn't take much room for us."

Jeff chuckled, "Oh, there will be plenty of room in this one, according to Dave and Evie, but it isn't ready just yet. And they don't want you to see it until they're finished."

Annie spoke up, "I'm sure it's just fine the way it is. There's no use in doing anything like that for us. Jeb and I have always maintained our house on our own. We just have to be a little more careful with ladders and such than we used to."

The conversation went on, with Jeff's wives asking Jeb and Annie questions about their lives.

-------

A few miles away, Carla, Jessica and Fred relaxed in the living room with the drapes pulled back watching the rain come down under the yard lights.

"I hope they all got home before the rain started," Carla fretted.

Fred chuckled. "They're all big boys and girls. There isn't a one of them that's not tough as nails, as the saying goes. Besides, all those tractors and combines have nice cabs on them. They're not going to get wet."

"Oh, I wasn't worrying about them getting wet," she said, smiling at the big man. "I was worried about that slow-moving equipment on the highway in the rain. I would hate for someone to get hurt because of me."

"Oh, Momma. You're worrying about nothing. All of those rigs are lit up like Christmas trees. Most of them even have strobes. Nobody is going to run into any of that equipment."

Changing the subject, Carla said, "We've got to go to the store first thing in the morning. We've got a bunch of cooking to do before tomorrow night. But a good meal and a get together doesn't even begin to say the thank you that I owe all those people. Without them, we would have lost a good portion of our crops. And I'm so glad that the silo construction people said that they would come, too. Without them working the clock around again on Monday night, we would have had to put a lot more in the Thompsons' grain bins."

Jessica laughed. "Now we have enough feed for a big herd for several years, but nothing to feed it to."

Fred pulled an ottoman over and propped his tired feet up. "I guess the next job is buying stock, huh?"

"I wish," Carla said. "But without our barn, we don't really have a place to feed the cattle after the grain is ground up and mixed. We could get by for a while, but when the snows come, or it's raining heavily like it is now, we really need a place. Oh, the cattle can stay out unless it really gets cold, but there are a lot of things to do with the stock that genuinely becomes a job if you don't have a roof over your head. We can push the snow aside and strew hay for them, or put the bails out at the feeder stations, but when something goes wrong, you need a barn."

"Well, just point me toward whatever you want to get done. I'll learn," Fred laughed. "My farming days are way in the past, and my experience in the South was a different ball game. The only snows we had, even when I was a kid, were just a few inches deep and didn't last for more than three or four days, tops. Except for one blizzard back in the nineties that dropped a couple feet of snow that lasted for a week. Might not have been much for this area, but it brought everything to a screeching halt in the South. Heck the police department was borrowing four wheel drive SUVs from their personnel so they could get through the two feet of snow to answer calls."

Fred stretched his body, his hands interlaced on the back of his head, grinning, when his back popped. "Ahhh, that feels good. I think I sat in that combine until I grew to the seat. No matter what I do, I can't seem to get my legs stretched out in that thing."

Jessica smiled back at him. "I know what you mean. When I got off that tractor tonight, my legs were numb from sitting in one position for so long."

"I wish that Sam could have been here today. He would have enjoyed all those new silos and grain bins," Carla said, wistfully.

Fred was quiet for a moment, thinking of his wife.

Mother and daughter looked at each other, then got up and sat beside Fred on the couch.

"Uh oh. This looks serious," he teased.

Carla picked Fred's arm up and put it around her shoulders. Jessica did the same on the other side. "It is," Carla said. Feeling Fred tense, she quickly continued, "Oh, there's nothing wrong. Jessica and I have just been talking a lot lately, and no matter what we do, we come back to the same place."

Fred, thinking he had done something wrong, remembering the many times that both women had kissed him, and he had kissed back in the last few days, said, "I guess maybe I've overstepped my bounds. I guess I need to apolog..."

"Oh, you don't need to do any such thing," Carla broke in poking him in his ticklish ribs, causing him to grunt and flinch. "You haven't done a thing wrong, and you've done a great many things right. I don't know what we would have done without you. All the way from taking care of those two assholes, to getting our friends together to help, to running that combine fifteen hours a day."

Fred snuggled both women against his side as they turned more toward him, their breasts pushing against the sides of his chest. Carla reached across and took her daughter's hand, then looked up into Fred's face.

"My daughter and I have always been close. Well, I mean closer than most mothers and daughters. She's always told me everything, and much to my husband's consternation sometimes, I've done the same, particularly after she reached puberty. Now farm kids learn about sex, at least what the animals do, by the time they can walk. Cows, pigs, chickens and horses. And the darned horses sometimes need a little help," she laughed. "So kids get an early initiation to sex and the discussions about breeding that go along with work on the farm and ranch."

Fred kept feeling that he had done something wrong. Glancing from one woman to the other, he waited for the shoe to drop.

"Oh, silly, quit looking like you're standing in front of a firing squad."

Jessica giggled. Smiling up at Fred, "Well, maybe he is, Mom. In a way."

Carla laughed in spite of herself. "Our periods do come at the same time. And ... our PMS. Poor man."

Both women chuckled, now enjoying keeping Fred in suspense.

Finally, Carla asked, "How old are you, Fred?"

"Too damn old," he said. "Somehow, I feel great, though. Like I was twenty years younger. Why are you asking this all of a sudden?"

Suddenly Carla realized that her planned speech that she and Jessica had so carefully crafted, sounded trite. Stumbling, she blurted out, "Uh, Jessica and I would like for you to live with us."

A look of perplexity crossed Fred's face. "Uh, seems like we already covered this. I kind of asked if I could stay around, help out, and all. Oh, I could probably get a job as a police chief in some Podunk Hollow town. But I don't want that. And I signed an agreement to not start another detective agency in the state of Georgia for five years, when I sold my business. I don't really have the contacts out here to be successful if I started something like that here, anyway."

Fred thought for a moment. "I thought we already agreed for me to stay on and do the grunt work."

Carla looked at her daughter, who just blushed, refusing to say anything.

Carla sighed. "We're not talking about that, Fred. I mean. Well, I guess we got the idea from the Matthews."

Both women felt Fred tense up again.

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Carla quickly spoke up. "We think they're all great. And that's an understatement after all they have done for us. What I'm trying to say is that we finally decided that they're ... Ah, crap. It's obvious that they're all Jeff's women, and they love him to death. And neither Jessica nor I would give up or bow out, so ... Uh, we don't mean right now. But when you feel like enough time has passed, well, we want to be your women," she said, the last barely above a whisper.

Fred looked in shock at first one, then the other. "Uh..."

"You don't have to make any decisions now," Jessica broke in. "We know that you're still grieving for your wife. We wouldn't want to disrespect her memory. But we wanted to let you know how we feel."

Fred sat quietly for a moment, both women worrying that they had offended him. "Let me get this straight," he finally said. "You two want to live with me? Uh, like husband and wife, uh ... wives?"

The women didn't say anything, just nodded.

Despite Carla and Jessica having kissed him, even rubbing against him, Fred had thought that they were just teasing him, or trying to lighten the mood to help him through his grief. Now it suddenly dawned on him that it had been far more than that. "But, I'm too old for you," he said to Carla.

Turning to Jessica, he continued, "And I'm old enough to be your grandfather, or nearly, anyway. What in the world would make you want to, uh, have sex with me?" he asked, looking at Jessica.

"I'm not a virgin," Jessica said, defensively. "I used to have a boyfriend before I went off to college. He and I were just good friends, but..."

"Well, that's as it should be. You're young. But I'm old. I mean, you can't see anything in me that would make you want to be with me. I think you're both just tired from our marathon sessions on the tractors. And you've both got some misplaced sense of wanting to pay me back for helping you out a little."

Carla smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "What you did for perfect strangers wasn't just 'helping out a little' as you call it. We know how tired you were every night when you went to bed. We know, because we were, too. Not only did you work from daylight to way past dark, but whenever you saw something that needed doing, you were right there."

Carla hesitated, looking at her daughter for a second before turning back to Fred. "It wasn't long before our neighbors were coming to you when they needed something or wanted to know which field to start on next. Oh, they didn't bypass me, but if you were near, they went to you. That says more than you realize. They would never have done that if they didn't respect you. Those people don't accept just anybody. You don't know how rare that really is."

"Well, I ... Oh, hell, I don't know what I'm trying to say," Fred sighed. "This place just feels like home. Sometimes, I sat in that cab thinking about Brenda, with tears rolling down my cheeks. And ... sometimes, I remember her voice so clearly that it was eerie — she seemed to be there. She teased me for crying for her. She told me that you two were good people, and that she was proud of me. I think I must be nuts, or rationalizing my wanting to stay here, but she told me ... Ah shit, this is ridiculous," he said, shaking his head.

"Don't you dare stop now," Jessica said. "What did she say?"

"Please continue," Carla said. "We want to hear."

"She said," Fred got out, his voice breaking, "that you two loved me and I would be a fool to leave. I know it was just my subconscious talking, but well..."

Fred rubbed his hands briskly together, then slapped his thighs trying to direct their attention away from his tear-filled eyes. "Oh, well. Now you know that I've really gone round the bend. But I was with her so long that when I'm thinking over things, it sounds like her voice in my head."

"She happens to be right," Carla said into the sudden stillness.

Fred swallowed, and tried to clear his throat, hoping that he wouldn't cry like a baby, something that he figured he had been doing far too much of lately. "Look, ladies. Both of you are a catch for any man. Way beyond my class. Like I said before, you're just overreacting because of all you two have been through. If you met me on the street, you wouldn't even notice. You lost your husband, Carla, and you, Jessica lost your dad, got jerked out of college when he got sick. Your life got turned upside down. I'm too old for either of you..."

"I will say one thing for you, Fred Wilson," Carla said, fighting not to laugh. "You're about the hardest headed man I've met since my husband died. And you seriously need to look in that full-length mirror in my bedroom." Smacking him in the belly with her fist, she continued, "You might have been a little overweight, but you're not now, and you have as much muscle on you as any of those guys that have just finished helping us." She tapped on his hard bicep for emphasis.

Carla glanced at Jessica who had put her head against his chest. "All right. Enough of this. But stand warned, when you feel better, we're not going to let you get away from us. I've never even thought about sharing a man before, but neither of us is going to back off. So if Jeff's women can do it, then we can, too."

Fred didn't have the foggiest notion what to say, and before he could unravel his mind enough to respond, Carla kissed him, then Jessica.

As the two women stood, Carla reached down and took Fred's hand. "Next time you talk to Brenda ... tell her thank you from us," she quietly said. "Now let's get some sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow, and a whole bunch of grocery shopping to do."

"And I've got a 'whole bunch' of equipment to clean up," Fred grinned back at her.

"No you don't," both women said almost in unison.

"You're going with us," Carla finished. "We're not going to let you out of our sight tomorrow. We're going shopping and spend part of that twenty thousand that the Matthews left us for 'running money.' Diana has talked to me practically every day, and she constantly asks if we need more. She keeps telling me that this farm is a business and she expects the money to be spent. So tomorrow, we're going to buy you some clothes, other than the western stuff, and a whole bunch of groceries. Tomorrow night, we're going to feed all those wonderful people that helped us. And we're going to do it in style."

Both women quickly kissed him again, then left a much-confused Fred sitting on the couch.

Lost in thought, he closed his eyes for a second.

Looks like you had better keep up your jogging and exercising. Those two are going to be a handful, even for you. Her quiet laughter followed in his mind — laughter that he had heard a thousand times and wished he could hear just once more.

Snapping his eyes open, he stood trying to focus through his fatigue. "There better not be anybody in that shower. If there is, they're going to have company," he mumbled as he forced his tired body down the hallway.

-------

THURSDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 18

Dave had worked out last night, and afterward drank a couple big glasses of iced tea. He pushed the button to check his watch in the darkness of their bedroom, Evie snuggled to his side. A quarter to five. Almost time to get up, anyway, but his bladder would not be denied. Slowly extracting himself from Evie's arm, he made his trip to the bathroom.

Awake, he walked into the living room of their apartment in the retreat, and asked the security system to give him a view of the outside, as he did most mornings to check on the weather. There weren't any stars visible in the predawn morning, so he assumed that it was cloudy, but hadn't rained, yet. Noticing that the range lights were on, frowning, he directed the camera toward the range.

"Range. What person?" he asked the security system.

JEFF, the computer answered.

-------

A few minutes later, Dave walked up to Jeff. "Morning, Boss," he nonchalantly said as he watched Jeff cutting two by twos that were laying across sawhorses.

"Morning," Jeff responded as if they always met this way.

Dave picked up another four of the two by twos and placed them on the sawhorses as Jeff stacked the four he had just cut with a battery operated circular saw.

They repeated the process, neither saying anything.

"I thought you would probably be on your run," Dave commented.

"Nah. I decided to skip it this morning. Only need four more," Jeff said, motioning to the stack of two by twos.

Dave put four more on the horses, then watched as Jeff put his pattern two by two next to the longer ones, made a quick mark across them with his pencil. A few seconds later, the last four were added to the stack of completed ones.

Jeff was fighting a losing battle not to grin when Dave gave up. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Cutting two by twos to length," Jeff tried to say, sotto voice, but the snigger broke through a little.

"'Cutting two by twos to length' before dawn — on the range. And..."

Jeff put the saw aside, then picked up the sawhorses and moved them out of the way. Motioning to a stack of cardboard at the side of the range that Dave had bought for him several weeks ago for target backing, Jeff said, "If you've come to help, I need a couple dozen pieces of that target backing. I was working out here because the light was better," he finished, nodding to the security light not far away.

"Oh," Dave said, then "Oh," as he realized what Jeff was doing. "You're going to build your tunnel for the obstacle course out of the two by twos and cardboard."

"Yep. When we're done, we can just knock it apart and store it away in case we do it again. And I plan to run them through various obstacle courses on a regular basis."

Dave looked at the cloudy sky for a moment. "You might get a day or two before a big snow comes, if I remember what they forecast for the mountains, but if you plan on doing this much longer, it's going to be a real obstacle course."

"Yeah, I know. But I want to run them through the course as many times as I can this morning. Then if we have some good days later, we'll do it more."

Dave went to the side where the cardboard was stacked, pulled the cover back, and he and Jeff each got as many pieces as they could handle. Back at the work area, Jeff set four of the two by twos into a rectangle, then checked to see if the cardboard fit his measurements. When the cardboard fit, he put it aside and picked up his drill and a box of screws.

Dave held the two by twos as Jeff drove a screw into the junctions. When he had two of the rectangular frames made, Dave held them as Jeff stapled the cardboard. With the cardboard stapled to three sides of the two frames, there was a "tunnel" the length of the cardboard with the section on the ground free without any of the material, the two by twos comprising the support structure for the fake tunnel.

Jeff picked up another of the window-shaped two by two rectangles. With Dave holding it, Jeff stapled cardboard to it and the section of tunnel already completed.

"How in the heck did you think of this?" Dave asked, a grin on his face.

Jeff stopped to glance at his friend. "I saw the rangemaster in Georgia do it for a firearms training class. It costs practically nothing and is easy to set up and tear down."

"But what kind ... I mean, how practical is it to crawl through a tunnel to train to shoot?" Dave said, a little of the exasperation coming through in his voice.

"None," Jeff laughed. "It's just something to get your heart started. By the time you're through thirty feet of tunnel, which includes a turn, with the clock running, trying to beat your buddy's time, you tend to get into all kinds of situations. Do you crawl, or duck walk? The tunnel is too low to bend over and run through. Most people try both, then settle on duck walking. You want to go fast, but neither method lets you do it very well."

An evil grin lit Jeff's face. "Trust me, duck walking through this thing in a hurry will get your heart rate up. It's interesting to see what people will do.

"Also here, as in a real gunfight, you need to keep track of how many rounds you have fired. I've set it up so that they will need four rounds on one of the stations, but if they haven't wasted any ammo, they will have only two rounds left in their magazine at that point. They should have changed magazines before leaving their last cover. If they didn't, then they will have to change magazines while engaging two bad guys with guns. Here they will lose points. In a real gunfight, they would be dead. Pushing against the clock will get the adrenalin up when they screw up, and make everything harder."

"Shit, I'm glad it's not me that's going to shoot this thing." After a chuckle from both men, Dave continued, "How are you going to use the bowling pins?" he asked as he aligned a piece of cardboard for the next section. "And by the way, I was just sure that the manager of the bowling alley would think I was nuts asking for used bowling pins. But heck, he had three boxes of the darn things in my Escalade and was turning for more when I finally got him stopped. I know that I must have wound up with fifty of them. And he was effusive with the offer of more any time I needed them."

"Yeah," Jeff laughed as he continued to staple. "That's about what the rangemaster said happened to him. Must be aggravating to get rid of the old pins or something. And as to how I'm going to use them, just wait and see. You'll love it."

Dave grinned at the comment, and said, "I expected that a lot of the pins would be broken, but they're just skinned up or chipped."

"Yeah, I guess they get to looking bad under those nice lights of the alley, and they have to replace them. But those things are tough. Usually, a nine millimeter just makes a little hole, then stops, especially if you hit them in the bigger area. But I've never been able to shoot the neck off with a direct center hit to the neck with a nine millimeter, although I did cut the top off one with a forty-four magnum. And it usually takes a direct hit to put one of them down. My wives are going to find that out. Only a knock over counts. They'll wind up wasting rounds on the pins, which will force them to learn to think, even when the adrenalin is pumping."

As Jeff finished stapling that section, he turned to check their work. "Let's move this section down to just before you get to the fifteen yard line sidewalk. Then we'll make another section and join it at a ninety degree angle to make that turn I was talking about."

After they had moved the section and were back working on the next one, Dave said, chuckling, "You're going to keep stressing those women of yours until you get to sleep on the couch."

Jeff laughed. "Don't I know it. And while we're on that subject, how are you doing with your women?"

Dave stopped to look at him. "You've started some shit, you know."

"Me? What have I done?" Jeff tried to innocently ask, a grin on his face.



-------

Chapter 64



THURSDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 19

Jeff and Dave were building a cardboard tunnel for Jeff's obstacle course on the firing range.

 ... Dave stopped to look at him. "You've started some shit, you know."

"Me? What have I done?" Jeff tried to innocently ask, a grin on his face.

"You know very well what I mean," Dave said, trying to act pissed, but not fooling Jeff a whit. "All this talk about Alpha Males and Queen Bitches, not to say anything about the precedent you're setting with a bunch of wives. Do you know that little wife of mine laid down the law to me when I first got to know you and I told her about suspecting that you were sleeping with all of your women?"

Answering himself, Dave continued, "Yeah, I guess I told you about that. But the point is that after she got to know you, and them, she changed. Oh, it was gradual, and I suspect that Diana had a lot to do with it. But acting like she's kidding, or not, fact is that she's serious about this Queen Bitch thing. You have no idea how much of a turnaround that is. She wants me to take Linda as a wife. I swear she about screwed me to death after Linda left last night."

Dave shook the section of tunnel they were working on. "I think that piece is a little loose," he said, pointing. "You probably need to put in a few extra staples. You do know that if we get a strong gust of wind, this thing is going to become a sail, and probably come all to pieces in the process?"

Jeff restapled the piece, but otherwise didn't answer. "Anyway," Dave started again, "she's telling me that an Alpha needs more than one wife and is going to see that I get them. Shit, Jeff, I think she's talking about more than just Linda. And what if they both get PMS at the same time, or however many she's thinking about? Crap, I'll have to head for the hills."

Jeff chuckled. "Move your hand, unless you want a staple for a decoration. And in case you haven't noticed," he said, his grin getting bigger, "you're already on a heck of a hill."

Dave quickly jerked his hand to a new location as Jeff finished up with the section. "Man, you make this multiple marriage thing look easy." After a second, when Jeff didn't respond, he continued. "Linda's titties are a little bigger than Evie's, at least they look that way through her clothes. I haven't seen her nude, yet. But even I know that I'm going to have to be very careful about any compliments, or hell, even giving the impression her titties excite me. That could start a whole bunch of shit if the green-eyed monster rears its head, as they say."

Dave thought for a second, then continued, "But ... if I don't compliment Linda, then she's going to have her feelings hurt..."

Jeff, who had been bending over for some time stapling the sides, stood up and stretched. "Those are valid points, and believe me, I've worried about the same thing, and a lot of others, besides. But, oddly enough, I think that's where the Queen Bitch comes in. Diana says that her opinion and feelings changed after Arlene and I got together. Of course, it was Diana's instigating that got it started, anyway, but she's adamant that something changed in her after she made up her mind about Arlene."

Jeff picked up another piece of cardboard. As Dave held it in place, Jeff stapled. "The healer says that the Queen Bitch syndrome — if you want to call it that — happens when the first wife decides to expand her husband's mates. Apparently, we're enough like the race who created the healer for this to happen. Heck, I don't know. Maybe we're cousins, or closer, even. Whatever the reason, I know that something is going on. The healer also says that the Alphas have a mental influence that keeps down strife. In other words, the wives know that strife among them would displease their Alpha, and this is unconsciously avoided.

"Let's carry this section down to the other one. I've decided to put in two turns. Might make it a little harder."

"All of this is well and good," Dave said, standing and grabbing one end of the tunnel, "but it still seems like a good recipe for a few nights on the couch now and then."

"Well, I've come close," Jeff answered, picking up his end, "But other than a threat or two, so far I've managed to sleep in my own bed."

Shortly, they had removed a portion of one of the panels from the side of the first tunnel, and attached the next section at a ninety-degree angle. As they walked back, Jeff put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "I think this is going to go a lot smoother than you think it will. Looks like Madison is supporting it. Diana tells me that he bought that outfit that Linda was wearing last night."

"Yeah," Dave admitted as they started building the last section. "I think he was a little shaken. Hell, I was a lot shaken. But other than telling me that he would beat my ass if I ever hurt her, he seemed ... well, resigned to an extent, but more than that, he also seemed to think that our marrying was the right thing to do. That is the last thing I expected out of him."

Jeff paused for a second with the drill in his hand as Dave held a couple of two by twos together. "Diana is adamant that you, Madison, Frank and Fred are all Alpha Males, plus the healer told me that the four of you would begin displaying more of your Alpha tendencies as they were awakened in you."

When Jeff finished attaching the pieces to each other, Dave held the two by two section as Jeff aligned the cardboard. "I don't feel like an Alpha Male — whatever they are. Oh, the healer has obviously helped me. My dick is a little bigger," he grinned. "And I think my little wife can't make up her mind whether she likes that or not. But I've had to buy new pants. I've grown a couple of inches, and I can't fucking get enough sex. I think it's stressing Evie."

"So maybe you need another wife to cut Evie a little slack," Jeff said as he stapled the last sheet of cardboard. "We need four more pieces." But Dave had already started for the side of the range to get them.

A few minutes later as they resumed their work, Dave sighed. "Uh, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Do you mean that what we've been talking about isn't personal?" Jeff teased.

"Well, damnit, the women can talk about anything. But if us guys mention something and they find out, we're in a world of hurt."

"Yeah, that's about right," Jeff agreed.

Dave caught Jeff's eye. "How in the hell do you take care of seven women? And now it's going to be nine. I mean even if you can keep going ... the logistics of things..."

"Logistics?" Jeff laughed. "I've never heard it called that. Hand me that other piece."

Dave absently handed him the cardboard, then held his end in place. "Well, whatever you call it. By the time you get around to the last one, it's a wonder she hasn't died of boredom."

Jeff stopped stapling for a moment, looked at his friend. "Boy, are you in for a surprise." Hooking the staple gun onto his belt, he said, "Let's get this part mated up to the rest. I want the tunnel to turn both ways."

A few minutes later, as Jeff finished stapling the last section to the main tunnel, he turned to Dave again. "If it works with you the way it has with me, your women will gradually — well I'll use attune for lack of a better word — attune to each other."

"What the crap does that mean?" Dave asked.

"Well, you see the way they work together, cooking, cleaning up, and the rest of it ... It doesn't stop when we get to the bedroom. I've given up trying to deny that there's a connection between them. Diana claims that even if they're not in the same room, that when one of them orgasms, the others will, but not nearly as strongly unless they're touching me or the wife I'm making love to."

"Oh, shit," Dave said. "I've seen some of them sitting in the living room, when they all got quiet, then flushed, and sometimes shivered. I knew what it looked like. I just couldn't believe they had an orgasm just sitting there."

"By the time I get around to the ones that have had to wait, with all of us together in that big bed, it doesn't take much before they have the big one and pass out. I suspect that the same thing will work for you, especially after they've been together for a while. And if they touch me, or the one I'm making love to, they'll pass out when she does. And ... they don't exactly just lie there while I'm making love to one of them."

Dave wasn't sure how he should respond to Jeff's last remark, remembering Evie's comment about not being bi. Instead, he said, almost to himself, "Evie has fainted a few times, lately."

"I think you're worrying about something that will take care of itself. I've come to trust my little friend that rides my shoulders," Jeff said as he put a hand behind his neck to touch her through his shirt. "Between you, your Queen Bitch and Little One, everything will work out."

The two men stood admiring their handiwork in the cloudy dawn. "Well, there's no denying that your women have some sort of link, but I guess I never really thought of Evie that way. Although, come to think of it, she seems to be able to work in that kitchen with your wives just as they do. But she hasn't mentioned being able to know when they're having sex."

Jeff looked at his friend for a moment. "I don't think it works that way, but I'm willing to bet that they have some kind of link when they work together."

Dave glanced at his watch, then back at the retreat. "You know that we're late for breakfast?"

"Yeah, and what do you want to bet that they know exactly where we are and will be putting breakfast on the table when we walk into that kitchen."

As they gathered up the tools and started back for the garage to store them, Dave asked, "Did you use the healer on Jeb and Annie again?"

"Yeah," Jeff replied. "I went back to their suite a little after midnight. I came on out here and started on the tunnel when she finished."

"So you haven't had any sleep?" Dave said.

"Oh, I slept some. I sat in the corner and catnapped."

"How do you do that? You must have done the same thing with Evie and me. How do you get by with so little sleep?"

Jeff opened the garage door so they could store the tools. "Must be the healer. But I've never needed a lot of sleep. I guess I got used to it when I was working and going to school."

After storing the range tools, they stepped outside and lowered the door. "Did you guys get an invitation to Carla's party?" Dave asked.

"Yeah," Jeff answered as they turned toward the house. "We're supposed to go down after lunch to help her with things."

"Us too. What do you suppose we are going to do while the women are getting ready for the party? Oh, shit, I can't believe I said that," Dave cringed.

Jeff laughed at Dave. "Diana has already given me a list of things to load. Might as well use Evie's pickup as well, if you don't mind — tables, chairs, a whole list of things."

"My back is hurting already," Dave joked.

"Yeah, but you better be grinning when you say that in front of the women," Jeff warned as he held the back door open for Dave.

When they entered the kitchen, all Jeff's wives and Joyce were wearing black BDU's. (Military surplus black battle dress uniforms like you see the SWAT teams wearing) Dave grinned at Jeff. "Damn if I'm not going to have to get Evie a set of those."

"Well, they'll work out fine for today with the range wet and them having to crawl around."

"Hey, Jeff," Jeb called from the bar, where he was drinking a cup of coffee, "can Annie and I watch? Your course looks like it will be fun."

"Sure," Jeff laughed. "Maybe with enough witnesses, I won't get into too much trouble when someone skins an elbow or something," he laughed.

When Jeff sat at the head of the table, Caitlin came over and plopped into his lap. "How come I can't shoot your obstacle course? Diana says that she doubts that you will let me. My dad taught me to shoot a pistol, though."

Jeff looked at Diana, who slow-winked at him. "You can shoot it, but not right now. I don't want to insult you, but the course can be dangerous unless you're very familiar with a handgun. This one is timed, so you're pushing against the clock. After fifty or sixty hours on the regular range, I'll run you through the obstacle course. We're going to be shooting obstacle courses, plates, and the shooting trees a lot in the near future. But Diana and I will have to bring you up to speed, first."

Caitlin frowned a bit, but said, "Well, it was worth a try. I guess I can understand, but I don't have to like it." Kissing him, she hopped up, and was quickly replaced by Joyce.

"I told her that you wouldn't let her do it, but she said she was going to try, anyway." Joyce kissed him hard for a moment, then was gone, to be replaced by Diana.

Jeff glanced at Jeb and Annie, who were sneaking looks. "I think we're giving them a show," he said, nodding his head slightly in their direction.

Diana kissed him hard, then pulled back looking into his eyes. "They may be old, but never think that they're senile. Annie had it figured out ten minutes into breakfast preparations." Smiling at him, she added, "Oh yeah, she said that they dreamed of a blue light again."

Still talking quietly, she continued, "I talked to Carla about inviting Jeb and Annie to the party. She said it would be fine, of course. I think it will do them good to associate with all those farmers. I can't see just leaving them here, and they certainly look like they're feeling better today. I gathered from Annie that they don't have many friends, anymore. She says that they outlived everyone that they knew."

Noticing Jeb in animated conversation with Helen, Jeff quickly agreed.

-------

Dave and Evie had left to check on Jeb and Annie's house. Everyone else was in the classroom. "Okay, everybody," Jeff said, looking around him. "I'm going to take each of you, singly, through the obstacle course. You will shoot it twice, and Caitlin has agreed to keep the times and apply band aids to the skinned places." He waited for the laughter, but none came. His little joke having fallen flat, he cleared his throat and continued. "A miss adds five seconds to your score. A hit on a good guy adds twenty seconds to your time. The object is to hit all the targets that you're supposed to with a double-tap, and still have the shortest time through the course." (Double-tap: Two rounds fired in a very short period of time. The first is an aimed round, followed as quickly as possible with the second round. With enough practice to produce the necessary muscle memory to bring the weapon back on target, the second round will hit very close to where the first round did, generally causing far more shock to the body.) "So you have to hurry to do well, but you also have to shoot well to have a decent time. Any safety violation will add sixty seconds to your time, if the violation is minor. If it is a major violation, I will disqualify you immediately. In addition, safety violators will accrue massive numbers of pushups to be worked off in the coming week."

The room got very quiet. "And, yeah, I know that I'll probably be sleeping on the couch, but if I catch you moving from point A to point B with your finger on the trigger, or point your weapon in an unsafe direction. There will be penalties — big penalties for you. Under stress, we sometimes do stupid things. A gunfight is bad enough without getting killed by 'friendly fire.' So we learn here, and pushups, and my yelling at you are going to be the penalties — whether I sleep on the couch or not," he added with a chuckle that he hoped would break the tension a little.

"I want each of you to shoot the course once without having seen anyone shoot it. In other words, we'll do it like this. First Diana will shoot the course, then she'll watch as Laura shoots the course. After that, Diana will shoot her second time with Laura watching. Then Laura will shoot her second time. What I'm trying to do is have everyone shoot the course once 'blind' so to speak. Then watching someone else shoot will give you pointers as you watch them mess up or do something better than you did. You not only learn from your mistakes, but you learn from theirs as well, plus you learn from their good points where they have, maybe, had a better idea about something than you did."

There were a lot of frowns. Jeff just grinned. "Diana first. As soon as she finishes her first time, I'll call on the radio and Laura can come out. No peeking on the security monitor. I want the first time to be a surprise for each of you."

On the range a few minutes later, Diana looked at the course as Jeff explained it to her. Nervous, she glanced at him. "This thing is complicated. I don't want to screw up..."

"Remember, I'll be right by your side all the way. Well, except for the tunnel. You'll crawl, or duck walk through it by yourself. I'll be waiting at the exit for you."

"So, I start at the twenty-five, run to the barrier, and kneel behind it. Then the target will turn and I'll engage it, if it is a threat. Then holster and secure my weapon, go through thirty feet of tunnel, go to each station behind cover, engaging each target for that station. After all of the stations, I run to the end of the sidewalk, go prone and shoot the two bowling pins that are thirty feet away on the end of the sidewalk. When I knock the last pin down, my time stops."

Diana looked over the course again. "I'm to use two magazines, changing when necessary, but from behind cover, right?"

When Jeff nodded, she continued, "Then why do I have three magazines?"

"Hopefully, you won't have to find out?" Jeff answered with a smirk. Then, "Take your time on the first run-through. I know that you think you have to beat the others, but pushing it too fast won't get that done. A balance of precision shooting and a little hurry up will get your best time."

"Yeah, well, that's a lot of help," Diana mumbled sarcastically as she positioned herself at the start.

Jeff jogged beside his wife as she engaged the first shoot/no shoot target — a badass looking guy holding a black cell phone as if he had a gun in his hand. As the target turned to face her, she snapped her weapon into position, shook her head, holstered, and took off for the tunnel at a dead run.

Jeff was waiting for her when she came out of the other end, mumbling, red-faced. Then despite his warnings — although he knew she would — she took off for the next station flat out, and dived behind cover.

Jeff smiled as he stayed within touching distance of her as she worked her way through the course, hitting every bad guy in the head, none of her rounds coming near any of the hostages.

Jeff grinned as she charged down the sidewalk toward the line he had drawn across it. He had put a six foot piece of carpet down that the shooter was supposed to lie on while shooting the bowling pins. As Diana neared, she dived into a prone position, slamming into the carpet-covered concrete, pulled her weapon from the holster and commenced firing at the bowling pins — which wiggled but refused to fall over.

The comments she didn't mumble, but enunciated very clearly, weren't for delicate ears. She carefully aimed and fired twice more. Both pins fell.

"Time," Jeff yelled as he noted his stopwatch.

Diana stood, dropped her magazine, ejected the last round, and double-checked her weapon, returning it to the holster. Picking up the round and magazine, she turned to her husband. "The girls are going to have your ass," she said as she looked up at Jeff. "Your ass," she repeated. "And those damned pins won't fall over."

"Sure they will," Jeff joked, "when you hit them just right."

"I had one round left. If that damn pin hadn't fallen, I would have had to change into that third magazine, and waste more time."

"But you put two rounds into each bad guy's head, with no misses. You only wasted two rounds on the pins before you figured them out."

Diana grinned at him. "There are going to be some girls pissed at you. When they get frustrated when the pins don't fall over, then start missing them, well..."

"A real gunfight is also stressful, to state the obvious. Teaching them to use their weapons during stress is one of the main reasons we're out here."

When they walked back to where Caitlin was standing, Jeff gave her Diana's time, which she entered on her score sheet. Diana slid her sleeve up and looked at her elbow.

Jeff could see the carpet burns on her arm where she had dived into her prone position, and he suspected that she would have some on her knees as well. "You got a little carried away there my lady," he said, inspecting her arm.

"Bullshit," she said. "Give me a band aid, Caitlin. I'll do better next time."

Diana winked at Jeb and Annie who were standing near, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yep," Jeb said, teasing Jeff, "it's gonna be the couch tonight."

-------

Caitlin and Joyce stood in the shower in their suite. "Let me shampoo your hair," Caitlin said. "You'll feel better then."

"Diana ... crap. Beating me doesn't even describe what she did. Laura beat me by five seconds. Arlene beat me by nine seconds. Arlene is just a kid. She's sixteen," Joyce raved. "I'm supposed to be the professional at this. The county trained me. I've worked hard on my own. Hell, I out shoot the men on the pistol team. And Arlene beats me! Three civilian women — one of them a girl — beats the crap out of me on a handgun course. Shit!"

Joyce bent over so Caitlin could easily get to her hair, still griping. After Caitlin worked the shampoo into her hair, she raised Joyce's face with a finger and kissed her. "You'll get better. I know you. You'll work at it until you beat them."

They caressed each other for a moment before Joyce rinsed her hair. "Now your turn."

As Joyce worked shampoo into her lover's hair, she started to smile. "They really kicked my ass, didn't they? I should have known that Diana would from the way she shot on the tree, but I was confident that I would give her a run for her money. I never even thought about anyone else beating me. And we talk about men having egos." Smiling at Caitlin, who grinned back at her, "Well, if we're going to hang around this rich man, I should be able to shoot all I want without worrying about how much it costs."

"Yeah, but that's assuming you can walk after he sticks that thing in you," Caitlin laughed as she put her head under the shower to rinse the shampoo.

"Well, there is that," Joyce laughed. "So you've made up your mind to do it with him?"

"I didn't say that," Caitlin said reaching for a towel. "But, maybe."

-------

"I'm not even going to ask why we're carrying all this food," Jennie laughed as she put her load into the back of the Escalade. "But I distinctly remember Carla saying that she was going to furnish everything."

Jeff walked by with a stack of folding chairs. "Don't question," Jeff admonished with a grin on his face, "just salute and say, 'Yes, Ma'am.' Saves a lot of apologizing later. Besides, Diana called her back and volunteered to bring a few things."

Giggling, Jennie and Melissa clasped hands and took off at a run for another load.

-------

Later as they pulled into the back yard at the farm, Carla's pickup was backed near the porch, the tailgate down. Jeff backed his truck near, and Diana did the same with the Escalade. Two laughing women flew out the back, grabbed Jeff and kissed him.

"That's the biggest harvest we've had in years, and thanks to you, we have every bit of it stored," Carla said, as she hugged him.

"My turn," Jessica said, as she too kissed Jeff soundly, then hugged him.

Jeff mumbled something, while trying to will his dick to stay soft as mother and daughter continued with their hugs and thanks throughout the family. Diana smirked and winked at him, knowing exactly what his problem was.

Jeff smiled at her and went over to talk with Fred, who was just coming out of the house after carrying a load of groceries in. They grinned at each other, said 'Hi, ' and gathered a load each. When they walked back into the big kitchen to place the sacks on the table, Jeff nodded toward the back. "We're going to have to do something about that pickup. I know that Carla said it runs fine, but we need to get her something nice, and have the name of the farm put on the door."

Fred moved a sack that was threatening to spill its contents, away from the edge of the table. "I mentioned it to Carla, but she's adamant that we don't need to spend the money. She says that she's going to have to spend far too much of your money to replace her herd, as it is."

Jeff grinned at his friend. "Guess I had better get Diana into it. I know that Carla hasn't had time to think of anything except the harvest, but now that's out of the way, we want to keep the ball rolling in fixing this place up. Diana is going to talk to her about updating the house a little, so I'll get her into the thing with the truck, too. Well, make that trucks. Carla probably needs a dually pickup — say something like a Ford 350. But maybe she wants to go with a Chevy, or a Dodge with a good diesel engine. Also, she needs a smaller pickup to run around in — four door, of course, but something less than a dually — and with four-wheel drive."

Dually: Jeff is referring to the larger variety of pickup trucks with dual wheels on the rear. They have stronger frames and generally stronger, high torque engines. They are frequently used to pull heavy trailers with a hitch in the center of the pickup bed, similar to what an eighteen-wheeler uses. The trailers are often referred to as "gooseneck trailers," and most of the larger cattle and horse trailers utilize this gooseneck design. Link: http://www.heftyproducts.com/

Fred slapped Jeff on the back. "She's gonna have kittens when you start pushing for the trucks, but fact is, she needs them. But while we're at it, why not go with the 450. It's a lot more truck and even has a step into the bed.Of course, she's going to kick my ass if I don't get these groceries unloaded," he laughed, heading for the door.

Both men grabbed another load and carried them inside. "Since when do parties start at four in the afternoon?" Jeff asked, putting down his load.

"Ah, I think it's mostly because some guy by the name of Dennis Haplin has a son — I think the kid's name is Kirk — that's on a rifle team at his school. Haplin is the coach of the team, and has visions of his son being in the Olympics one day. Seems that every time there is a get-together, he brings his son's rifle, sets up a target, and invites all the kids fourteen and older to shoot. Claims that he's looking for new talent, but Carla says he's mostly showing off his seventeen-year-old kid.

"Carla says the boy's pretty good, but she doubts he's good enough to ever get to the Olympics, but then again, his shooting team has won several events. She wasn't sure at what level, and didn't have any of the details."

Getting the last load, they put their bags on the table with the others. "Why don't you shoot his rifle for him, Jeff? I'll bet that Carla would love to see this Haplin guy taken down a peg or two."

"Nope. Not me ... but I wouldn't bet on Arlene passing it up. She used to shoot her .22 every chance she got. And I bought her a Winchester Wildcat bolt action .22 last year. It's a nice little rifle, but probably way under what Haplin has if he's on a team."

Fred had started out the door, but stopped and turned to Jeff. "Uh, I don't know how to say this, but there are going to be several boys here about the age of your younger wives, and well..."

" ... and my young wives will attract those boys like a magnet." Jeff frowned, "They'll handle it, but yeah, it could be a problem that I hadn't thought about. No boyfriends with them equals fair game," he finished.

"I didn't mean to imply anything," Fred started.

"Oh, hush, Fred. I'm glad you mentioned it. I guess this is the first time they've been around any boys since, well you know."

Fred moved Carla's pickup out of the way, and he and Jeff began unloading the picnic tables. "With these two and Carla's two, plus the one that Dave is bringing, we should have enough room for a lot of food," Jeff said, removing the Bungee cord he had used to tie the tables on the pickup, then maneuvering his end of the first table off the truck.

As they put the table in line with Carla's, Jeff glanced at the sky. "It isn't as cloudy as it was on the mountain when we left. Maybe the rain will hold off."

"The weather report says the rain isn't supposed to start again until tomorrow morning. But if it does start early, we'll just move inside and get real friendly with each other," Carla said as she walked up. "Several folks will bring their instruments. Since there's that big arch between the living room and the dining room, we can get a lot of people in there and it will be almost like one room. We've done it before. You might learn a new dance step or two out of these country folks," she teased Jeff.

"If I learned any, it would be more than I know now," Jeff admitted.

"You mean with all your women, that you don't dance?" Carla blurted out, then looked chagrined as she realized what she had said. "Uh oh. Sorry about that," she finished.

"Is it that obvious?" Jeff said, stopping to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Jeff," she said again. "I guess I shouldn't have blurted that out. It's just ... well; we figured it out fairly quickly. The girls don't talk about any boyfriends. And as pretty as they are, there just has to be boyfriends. The only male that they talk about is you. And Helen and Laura didn't mention any men friends, but you were high on their list of things to talk about. Plus, all you have to do is look at them. It's obvious that they all love you."

Jessica joined them and put her arm around her mother, having heard some of the conversation. She smiled at her mom as Carla continued, "Besides, thinking about your situation gave us the idea for the solution to our problem."

Jeff was almost certain that he knew what their problem was, but before he could say anything, Carla winked at him, then changed the subject. "Morris said he would bring his big tent. It's just a top with sides that come down about two feet. Works great to put over picnic tables. I think he got it army surplus. It's one of the old canvas types with real poles, and long steel stakes. It's heavy and takes several people to put up, but it works great for something like this."

"How many do you expect?" Jeff asked as he and Fred manhandled the next table into line.

"Probably about thirty adults from the farm families, plus several people from the silo crews said that they would come, quite a few of the construction people working on the barn, plus you people, Dave and Evie, and the kids, of course."

Diana had joined them by now. "My goodness. Are you sure we'll have enough food?"

Carla grinned at her. "Nope, we won't. But one of the guys slaughtered a beef this morning, and is going to bring it. Another is going to bring a bunch of ribs. They'll be here shortly to start the barbeque. Also, all of the families will bring food. This is a farm thing. There'll be more food than you can imagine. Plus, I think we made Matt's day at the grocery store. It may not be the biggest order he has ever had, but it had to be close. I think you still hold the record," she said to Diana.

Diana grinned at her. "But you first told us to not bring anything," Diana said.

"Well, I shouldn't have let you, even when you called back. With all you have done for us..."

Diana grabbed Carla and hugged her. "Hush. We loved every minute of it."

Jeff's younger wives brought two giant ice chests from the garage, asked Carla where she wanted them, and went back for another one. Jessica got on the back of Carla's pickup and started handing bags of ice down. Beer went into one cooler, while the soft drinks went into the other two.

As Diana and Jeff put beer into the cooler, Carla brought another case. "I insist that there's a designated driver for each family, but it's hardly necessary. Most of these people have to get up early in the morning for farm chores. Hangovers don't sit well with hard work," she laughed. "Been there. Done that," she laughed. "Come on Diana. I need your help inside." Grabbing Diana's hand, Carla led the troop of women into the house.

Dave, Evie and Linda drove up, and Evie and Linda went inside with the women. "Where did you two get off to," Jeff asked Dave as they unloaded the picnic table.

"We went back by Jeb and Annie's house to show it to Linda, and also to make sure everything was still on schedule. It's all going smoothly. They should finish late tomorrow unless something unexpected crops up."

The two men maneuvered the table into place with the others. Dave grabbed a twelve pack of drinks, ripped the box apart and started putting the cans into one of the ice chests. Jeff picked up a box of drinks and started doing the same.

"What's this that Carla was talking about a 'solution?'" Jeff asked Fred as he joined them with the drinks.

Fred looked over at a grinning Jeff. "You know damn well what she was talking about. Crazy as it may sound, they're both talking about being my, uh ... women. Me. Hell, I'm old enough to be Jessica's grandfather. I don't know what either of them sees in me, anyway. Let alone Jessica. She could have her pick of boyfriends her own age."

Fred ripped open another box, then turned back to Jeff. "What the fuck did you do to me those nights?" he asked, rhetorically, knowing that Jeff wasn't going to answer.

When Jeff didn't say anything, Fred grinned. "Well, it was worth a try ... But, I mean, I haven't had women look at me in years. Then, while we were in the grocery store, this young woman walked up, and before I knew it, she practically propositioned me right there. I haven't had shit like that happen in many years. I thought Carla and Jessica were going to scratch her eyes out for a minute. I swear that Jessica practically hissed at her. And both of them took hold of my arms and snuggled next to me — right there in the fucking grocery store as they glared at the woman."

Fred hesitated for a moment, then grinned. "The woman took one look at Carla and Jessica, and hauled ass."

Dave chuckled at Fred. "I would have loved to have seen that."

"Yeah, well. It sounds funny. But it damn sure wasn't while I was standing there."

"Quit dodging the question, Fred," Jeff teased.

"Oh, hell, I don't know. They've got some kind of idea that if you can have several women, that they can be my women. Carla claims that neither of them is going to back off — whatever that means, so they've just decided to share. Crap, I would have been tickled out of my gourd when I was twenty-five, but on the wrong side of fifty..."

"So, sounds like you're settling in just fine," Jeff laughed. "Pussy whipped and you haven't been here any time, yet."

"A comedian, you ain't." Fred tried to gripe without laughing.

Jeff nodded to Dave who had just opened one of the warm drinks and taken a sip, leaning against a table. "Dave tells me that he and Linda will be marrying shortly."

"Linda?"

"Yeah. Madison's daughter. You haven't met her, yet. She's in the house. We'll introduce her when we're done here."

"Don't look at me," Dave said, defensively. "I'm still expecting Evie to wake up from this dream we're in and put a stop to everything. Probably with a crowbar in her hand."

"You're shittin' me, right?" Fred said, looking from one man to the other.

"Nope," Dave said. "I proposed to her after I got Madison's 'blessing, ' if you want to call it that. And Evie sat right there with me while I talked to him. Well, I guess it would probably be more correct to say, while he talked to us."

"I can't believe this," Fred said, shaking his head. "Oh, I've heard of plural marriages, or with a couple of women living with one man, but the three of us ... It's... odd."

Jeff grabbed a folding chair and sat. "Diana says it's perfectly normal for Alphas..."

Fred snorted as he opened a chair for himself.

" ... to have more than one woman." Jeff finished, wanting badly to tell Fred what the healer had told them about the subject, but dared not.

"I don't feel like a fucking Alpha," Fred groused. "Where do you get all this shit?"

"Oh, I suppose you haven't looked in the mirror lately," Jeff said, fighting a grin.

"Well, you know damn well I have. And I haven't dieted long enough to lose the fat I have, let alone gained the muscle mass I have. Oh, I've managed to get a little time to jog and work out in the morning before breakfast, but my body is responding too fast. What the fuck did you do to me Jeff?"

Jeff sighed, trying to figure out just how much he could tell his friend without compromising the secret of the healer. "If I had done the same thing to someone that was not an Alpha Male, the response would have been much less. The tendencies — abilities — that make you an Alpha were, uh, enhanced — allowed to develop. One of those attributes is the ability to attract females through pheromones and certain mental properties that I don't fully understand."

Jeff smiled as incredulous emotions reflected themselves across Fred's face. After a moment, Fred declared, "You guys might be Alpha's, but I think you're wrong about me. I mean, I guess I do fairly well for past-fifty loving, at least Brenda said so, but then again, she may have been just protecting my ego because she loved me. But Jessica is young, and both of them are in excellent shape. I mean, they work for a living. And they go wide open with everything they do. I doubt very seriously that either of them are exactly meek in bed..."

"Do you love them?" Jeff broke in while he glanced at Dave, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

Fred noticed the expression on Dave's face at the same time. "And what the hell do you think is so funny?" Fred demanded of Dave.

Dave gave up and laughed aloud. "Damned if I know. Maybe it's a misery loves company kind of thing. You sound like me arguing with Evie. I've said most of the things you've said, and more. The wording was a little different, but the arguments weren't — still aren't. I have some of the same concerns you do."

"Bullshit," Fred griped. "You're twenty years younger than I am, or more. And, you're in better shape. Don't get me wrong, I'd be a fool to not want to go to bed with those two, and fact is," he said, suddenly realizing it himself, "I'm in love with both of them."

Clearing his throat and glancing around to see if there were others listening, he hesitantly said, "Remember, it's only been a short time since Brenda died. I'm still fucked up over that — really fucked up. You see ... she, uh, talks to me." Quickly putting up his hand, slightly, "Yeah, I know. Sounds like I'm as crazy as a Bessie bug. But damnit, I hear her just as clearly as I do you guys. I'm going fucking nuts."

"What does she say?" Jeff quietly asked.

"She encourages me," Fred sighed. "Oh, I know it's my subconscious, or maybe just me trying to rationalize away some of the things that are happening, but crap, she seems so real. But however it's happening, I still love her, and somehow, I guess I've fallen in love with those two women as well," he said, nodding toward the house. "But I feel guilty as hell every time they kiss me and I kiss them back. I feel like I'm cheating on Brenda when I even think about taking one of them to bed."

Fred stared at his friend. "Jeff, I'm really fucked up. Those two inside want me to be their man — and I want to. But I'm not over Brenda. I don't know if I'll ever be over her. She encourages me about Carla and Jessica, and I know that just can't be. I thought about going into town and renting a car and just getting the hell out of here. But, I can't just dump them. I swear that I can feel their love for me."

Fred slumped into a chair and put his head in his hands. "I'm fucked up. I don't understand what's going on. I think I'm fucking losing my mind."



-------

Chapter 65



THURSDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 19

Jeff, Fred and Dave sat in the back yard of Carla's near the picnic tables they had just set up for the party. Although it started out just a bull session among three close friends, it had changed.

Fred stared at his friend. "Jeff, I'm really fucked up. Those two women inside want me to be their man — and I want to. But I'm not over Brenda. I don't know if I'll ever be over her. She encourages me about Carla and Jessica. I know that her voice is just my subconscious or something; it just can't be for real. I thought about going into town and renting a car and just getting the hell out of here. But, I can't just dump them. I swear that I can feel their love for me. How can these women fall in love with me? How can I hear my dead wife's voice?"

Fred slumped into a folding chair and put his head in his hands. "I'm fucked up. I don't understand what going on. I think I'm fucking losing my mind."

Jeff sighed and looked at Dave, who said, "Jeff, can't you tell him. Even I know that you can trust him. If he says he won't tell, then it's a done deal."

Jeff's face lost all expression for a moment as Fred looked at him expectantly. "We told you about the bear attack?" When Fred nodded, Jeff continued, "Well, it was a bit more than that. I came really close to dying. When Diana and Arlene got me back to the retreat, I was almost bled out. Dave picked me up and carried me into the building, and he consequently found out something that I've sworn to never tell. So did all my wives. But that doesn't relieve my duty to keep the ... well, to keep all this a secret, and that includes how it is done."

Fred made a derisive sound, but Jeff went quickly on. "I can't reveal anything more if I want to keep living. That's a literal statement, Fred."

Fred leaned back and crossed his legs. Shrugging, he said, "You mentioned some of this, but well, at least I now know why Dave knows and I can't. That doesn't mean that I'm satisfied, though. But that still doesn't help me any with my problem about Brenda? Not to mention Carla and Jessica."

"What does she say about what you've told us?" Dave asked.

"You mean about me being nuts?" Fred sniggered.

"Well ... yeah, if you want to put it that way."

"I'm afraid to tell her. If she thought she was driving me nuts by talking to me, I'm afraid that she wouldn't talk to me anymore. And I'm not ready to give that up — nuts or not. Put yourselves in my shoes," he said, glancing at both men. "If your spouse died right now, would you want her to stop talking to you, no matter the why or how? No matter how fucking crazy you were?"

Jeff and Dave looked at each other, and Jeff cleared his throat. Instead of answering the obvious, Jeff asked, "What do you really think? Is she real, or is her voice just a memory?"

Fred didn't respond for a moment, mulling over Jeff's choice or words. It revealed a lot about Jeff's trust in him even to consider that she was real. The big detective sat idly pushing at a small pebble in the grass of the yard with the toe of his boot. Finally, "She seems real. And I know that can't be, so I guess I'm nuts. But I'm not going to tell her to stop. I've almost asked her several times why she's talking to me, but it's the only tie I have to her, and I'm afraid even that will make her stop."

Fred looked up at his buddies again, "Like I said, I'm fucked up."

"Have you said anything about this to Carla and Jessica?"

"I'm not quite that crazy, yet," Fred tried to laugh. "Oh, I've mentioned it, but I've, more or less, let them think that Brenda's voice was just a memory. At least, I've tried to do that. Hell, I don't know what they thought. But I haven't come plain out and told them that I'm having conversations with her — that I've gone completely round the bend."

"You might be surprised at their reaction," Jeff said.

"Yeah, and I might not. Better to leave sleeping dogs lie, as the saying goes. Besides, I was really tired the other night when we talked about it. No telling how I came across," he finished, worriedly.

Their conversation was interrupted as a pickup topped the hill and came down the drive pulling the biggest portable grill that Jeff had ever seen. It was obviously homemade and built strong. With deft, sure maneuvering, the driver backed it next to Carla's grill. Jeff grinned as he thought, I guess farmers use trailers a lot. This one sure knows what he's doing.

"Well, looks like we won't have to clean Carla's grill after all," Jeff said.

"Wrong," Fred laughed. "I've already received my orders."

Shortly, two more pickups pulled in bearing several large coolers filled with meat. The smell of barbeque was soon strong in the air.

Around four Haplin and his son arrived. Just as Carla had said, they quickly had a sheet of plywood set up at a measured fifty meters, and then attached a number of the bull's eye targets with small red centers that measured only four-tenths of an inch.

Haplin and his son, Kirk, were soon practicing with an exotic-looking .22 caliber rifle. Fred, Dave and Jeff, curiosity stirred, walked over to watch, each taking a peek through the spotting scope that was attached to a sturdy tripod. It was obvious that Kirk shot much better than his father. Probably due more to the sharper eyesight of youth than anything else, Jeff thought. The small red bull at fifty meters was just that — small, and without a scoped rifle, it would be a difficult target.

Jeff could easily see the holes at fifty meters that the .22 rounds made, but he doubted if any of the others could, or at least not very well. After father and son had each fired twenty rounds, Kirk safed the weapon, even putting a trigger lock in, before the two of them walked out to the targets. By the time they had replaced the targets they had shot on and walked back, several more families had arrived. Several other boys, from about fourteen to eighteen straggled in with their families, as well as a number of girls. The teenagers, as well as some of the adults, gathered round to watch the shooting.

Diana and the rest of Jeff's wives came out, and were soon involved with the group. Sure enough, it wasn't long until Arlene was standing next to Kirk as he fired another three rounds. The bragging started again. Jeff tried to repress a grin as his daughter looked through the spotting scope at Kirk's last target. When she looked back at Jeff, he grinned, and winked at her.

"Can I hold your rifle? I have a .22 that I shoot every now and then."

"Sure," Kirk said, as he talked to her breasts.

Arlene frowned, but took the rifle as he handed it to her, leaving the bolt open.

Well, at least he's been safe with it so far, and he is pretty good with it. But not nearly as good as he thinks he is,  Jeff mused.

"It's going to be a little heavy for you," Kirk injected. "It's just over seventeen pounds. A lot of rifle for a girl."

Arlene awkwardly held the rifle as Jeff almost had to cover his mouth to hide a snicker. Diana glanced at her husband, her eyes sparkling.

"Can I shoot it?" Arlene asked in her best little girl voice.

"Sure," Kirk said putting a full magazine in and chambering a round for her. "Take the target in the center of the plywood. That way, if you miss the whole target, we'll still be able to see where your round went," he said in a condescending tone.

"I'll watch through the spotting scope and tell you where you hit, as long as it's on the plywood," Haplin joined in, sniggering, fully expecting her to do just that.

As Haplin stared through the scope, and Kirk stood directly behind Arlene so that he might see dirt fly up when she missed the whole thing, Arlene's stance changed and her assumed awkwardness vanished.

As she let out half a breath, picked up on the rhythm of her heart, then squeezed the hair trigger, Haplin cursed. "Damn, that was a lucky one. She hit dead center of the bull."

He didn't see Joyce clap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

Two rounds later, Kirk was holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. "She hit the bull with the first round, but missed everything with the other two," he declared.

"No, hell no, she didn't," his father interjected. "She put all three through the center of the bull. I saw the strike of each bullet," he said, looking again through the spotting scope. "She has a barely discernable clover leaf where the three bullets hit. They made one hole."

"That's bullshit!" Kirk brayed. "There's no fucking way."

Arlene took the magazine out, ejected the empty from the rifle, her hand snaking out to catch the casing in the air, then stood the gun in its rack with the bolt still open. She handed Kirk the empty shell casing and the magazine.

"The rifle is really heavy," she said, straight-faced.

Haplin, ignoring his son's protestations asked, "Where do you go to school, young lady? I would certainly love to have you on our shooting team."

"I go to a private school," Arlene answered sweetly, still using her little girl voice. "But that big ol' twelve pound rifle is too heavy for me," she managed to say without breaking down and laughing, although it was hard. Grinning, she walked by her dad, poking him in the ribs with a finger as Jeff laughed out loud.

All the kids were now laughing, including Jeff's younger wives.

"Better watch out for pretty little girls. They might just take your spot on that shooting team," Joyce sarcastically said as she turned to follow the others toward the house.

"Damn," Jeb said, "That lass would make a hell of a sniper."

"No fucking way did she outshoot me," Kirk snarled at his dad as Haplin came back with Arlene's target a few minutes later. Laying the target face down on a piece of plywood, Haplin carefully folded the pieces of paper back to reform the hole, in part. There was enough of the paper left when they turned the target right side up to see that there had, indeed, been three bullets through the center.

"Shit!" Kirk snarled. "It's a fucking accident. No way could she do that again."

"If I were you," Haplin hissed at his son, "I would shut the fuck up before she embarrasses you again. She just took you down the primrose path."

"What the hell is the primrose path?" Kirk snarled.

"Look it up," his father said, staring after Arlene as she and the girls went into the house, "She had you dancing down it like an idiot."

Kirk frowned, lowering his voice so that only his father could hear. "Well, they're all the same on their backs. A good load of come up her pussy and we'll see who goes down that path. Besides, I'd like to see her with her belly swelled up."

"Ah, a chip off the old block," Haplin whispered, slapping Kirk on the back.

-------

Annie winked at Jeff as she and her husband went to congratulate Arlene.

Linda was the last of the girls into the house, and just before she went through the door, she turned back for a second, her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh that wouldn't seem to stop as she glanced in Kirk's direction and dashed on into the kitchen.

Jeremy walked up with Denise on one side of him and Connie on the other snuggled in his arms.

Jeff grinned at them, but couldn't help himself. "Hmmm, looks like things have been happening since I last saw the three of you."

Before they could say anything, Lee joined them with, "Yeah, they all rolled up one morning in the same pickup. One of the hotheads ran his mouth about the ladies, and Jeremy kicked his ass for him. After that, I told them to quit hiding. They're the three best workers I have. As long as they hold it down to a roar on the job, I don't give a damn," he laughed.

Both women and Jeremy blushed.

Lee grinned at the three like they were his kids. "They tell me that they're pooling their money to go to college, trying to save all they can. I'm going to talk to Jackson to see if the company will help them out a little. Of course, I'm cutting my own throat in the process, because I'll lose them, but ... that's life," he finished, chuckling.

"Well, we've just started. We'll save more money with the three of us living together, but we're not quite as far along as Lee thinks," Denise said. Then looking up at Jeremy, she continued, "But we're working on him. One of these days he's gonna say yes." She and Connie both giggled as they tried to tickle Jeremy.

Jeff and the construction people continued their conversation for a time, laughing and teasing each other.

After a while, several of the other kids, and even a few of the grownups, shot under Haplin's watchful eye. But for some reason the bragging had stopped. The kids, however, now enjoyed themselves a lot more, although none of them could even come close to Kirk's abilities with the custom rifle.

One of Kirk's buddies teased him about being outshot by a girl, but when Kirk snarled back at him, the teasing really started.

-------

Just as darkness descended, Carla and her daughter went back inside the house for the final bowls of food. "How in the heck does he keep all of them satisfied?" Jessica quietly asked her mother.

Carla glanced out the window at Jeff's wives gathered near the picnic tables. "We've talked about this before. And I don't know any more now than I did then," she answered, looking around to make sure they had everything.

"Now he has two more," Jessica said, nodding toward Joyce and Caitlin, who were adding more drinks to the coolers.

"Yeah, it looks that way," Carla said, smiling.

"What about our man? When do you suppose he's going to do anything?" Jessica said, turning to her mother.

Instead of answering, "What if he likes one of us more than the other?" Carla fretted, surprising her daughter.

"I don't see why you're worried," Jessica answered. "You're prettier than I am. If he likes one of us more, it will be you."

Carla stared at Jessica in astonishment. "You've got to be kidding. I'm twice your age, my breasts have started to sag, and you're ... way prettier," she finished, taking Jessica's face gently in her hands.

Jessica lightly kissed her mother. "Your breasts don't sag, and you know it, but I can't believe we're talking about sharing a man. Oh, I know what we discussed, and I don't have any problem with it, well ... if it hadn't been for the Matthews, I would never have thought of it." Blushing, she grinned at Carla. "Now, I'm anxious to get started. I fantasized about him making love to you while I, uh, played with myself, and, uh, had tremendous orgasms. I want to watch. Not to say anything about wanting him to do it to me." Giggling, blushing, she held her mother.

"Good grief, Daughter. We've got to stop talking about this before we start to smell like sex." After a moment, with a sheepish grin on her face, she continued, "You're not the only one who's been fantasizing. I've never done a threesome thing before — never even considered it with your dad — but unless you want to have Fred play musical beds..."

"No," Jessica quickly interjected. "I want to sleep in his arms every night. I've dreamed of sleeping in my man's arms ever since puberty, but I wanted it to be with the man I loved, not just some fuck buddy. And before you say anything, I've only had the one that I told you about, but I'm in love with Fred. I can barely keep from touching him when someone is around. If he doesn't do something soon, I'm going to crawl into bed with him, anyway."

Carla sighed and leaned back against the sink, her back to the window. "I loved your father, and as Fred says about Brenda, 'still do, ' but I love this man every bit as much. And when he touches me, even casually, I get wet. I don't know how this is going to work out. I know that I'm going to be embarrassed to death when we all get into bed together, but I'm not going to let him go. I just can't."

Jessica grinned and glanced at her mother's breasts. "A couple of my girlfriends from college and I watched a porn DVD one night. This guy had this girl that looked a lot like you on her hands and knees on the side of the bed, while he stood behind her. He fucked the shit out of her, and her breasts were bouncing all over. It was the sexiest thing I have ever seen." Blushing furiously, she quietly added, "Later that night, I fantasized about it being you as I ... well, you know. I think you're sexy, Mom. I can't wait to see Fred do that to you."

"Oh, crap," Carla said, her face also red, not all of it from blushing. "Mothers and daughters don't talk about things like that with each other."

"You want to bet?" Jessica said, nodding to the window where they could see Diana and Arlene laughing at something one of the girls had said.

Carla hugged her daughter. "Well, whatever happens, we need to get this food out there before they wonder where we went. Having a wet spot in the front of our jeans won't help, either. And if we keep talking about him, our jeans are going to show it," she laughed picking up a couple of bowls of food. "Get those extra buns over there," she said, pointing to the table, "and let's go feed our man."

Laughing, the two women hurried to join the others.

-------

Other than in the military, or a few potlucks at church, Jeff had never seen this much food at one time. And the military food darn sure didn't taste this good, he thought as he almost begged one of the farmers to not put another slab of ribs on his plate. Carla had brought out a folding lounge chair like you would use on the beach, and insisted that he have it.

Practically everyone there came to him at one time or another throughout the afternoon and evening to thank him for saving Carla and Jessica's farm. He tried to tell them that it was just an investment; that they had done far more for the women than he had, but that went over like a lead balloon.

Fred pulled up a chair and sat.

"I suppose the guy with the beard is the pastor of the church," Jeff said, nodding toward a group of men.

"Yeah, that's the preacher. The guy really impressed me. Carla says he works with one of the county's road crews running some type of heavy equipment."

Carla came over and plopped down in Fred's lap, while Diana snuggled in with Jeff.

"Most of the preachers from these little country churches don't get paid enough by their congregations. They have to make a living somewhere else," Carla said.

"What really impressed me," Fred enthusiastically commented, "is that the guy pulled one of the grain trailers alongside a combine two nights running. Jimmy told me that he (the preacher) was only getting about two hours sleep between working all day with the county, and working here all night."

Carla leaned over and kissed Fred — thoroughly.

When Jeff glanced toward the people gathered at the table, Carla pulled back and chuckled. "Trust me. When we took Fred to church with us, they all knew. They haven't seen a man with me since my husband died. We've hinted enough that they know that Jessica and I are both after him," she teased, kissing Fred on the nose.

At Jeff's look, she laughed and continued, "These are working folks. Oh, we have a couple of gossips, but they have long since become a joke. These are good people — hard-working people. Every now and then, one of them probably comes to church with a hangover, but if you need help — well, at least, physical help — they'll be there. Few of them have money to spare. The gossips will have a field day about Jessica and me, which is one reason I'm openly sitting on his lap, but the rest won't care. We don't look too closely at their lives, and they return the favor."

Carla nodded toward the preacher. "Brother Taylor is a good man. As far as the work goes, a tree fell on his house a few years ago during a storm. Darn near everyone in the church turned out to fix his house, including the gossips. In three days, his home was repaired good as new, and the tree was cut and stacked for firewood. We don't have all those community help programs with the fancy acronyms, but we pitch in when there's a need and we can help. If they need money, then they are in a world of hurt, but if work or food will do it, then it will happen."

Carla failed to say that she, Sam and Jessica had been one of the first to hear about the preacher's house, had started the ball rolling to get everyone together, and had worked just as much as anyone.

Carla kissed Fred again, wiggled on his lap, grinned and left for a group of women sitting on the other side of the yard.

A few minutes later, as if on cue, Jessica took her place on Fred's lap, grinning at Jeff. Tossing her hair back out of the way, she kissed Fred.

Oh, shit,  Jeff thought. That should start some tongues wagging.

When Jessica finally came up for air, Fred's face was red. "That is going to start some shit," he said, glancing back at a group of women that were looking at them.

"That's the idea," Jessica giggled. "Well, that, and I wanted to."

"So your mother put you up to it?" Fred said.

"Sure. Everybody knows what's happening except the two old biddies. Give them something to get their hearts started," she laughed. "We're always feeding them gossip that's totally bullshit. Mamma is going to tell them that we've decided to get pregnant at the same time. I just hope they don't have a stroke and die on us," she finished, laughing aloud.

Fred was still locked on the "pregnant at the same time" comment, but was way too scared to ask if she were really joking. He had the distinct feeling that she wasn't.

Jeff laughed until there were tears in his eyes, but then Diana whispered into his ear, "How about if Arlene and I get pregnant at the same time? Of course, all of us at the same time would even be better."

She didn't crack a grin; just kissed him on the ear and left.

Jeff knew that she was kidding, but apparently his cold chills didn't.

-------

Later, Carla and Jessica stood at the side of the yard, just having noticed a stunning redhead with big breasts talking to Fred.

"Mother, look at Rita," Jessica hissed. "The bitch has taken her bra off since she first got here. Look at her lean over to show Fred her tits. Where in the hell is her husband? Surely he isn't going to put up with her acting like that. I'm going to go kick her ass."

Carla grabbed her daughter. "Uh, I guess it happened while you were in college, and with your dad sick, I never got around to telling you. She and what's his face divorced."

"But they got here together," Jessica broke in.

"Yeah, I know. They still live in the same house. I guess they couldn't figure a way to split up the farm to suit them. I've seen them both out with other people, so I don't think he gives a shit what she does."

"Well, I do," Jessica hissed. "That big-tittied hussy isn't going to get her claws into my man."

"Easy girl," Carla quietly said. "Fred's a big boy, and he's smarter than that. He isn't going to mess with her. But if she keeps doing that, her tits are going to fall out of that top," she finished as Rita laughed and leaned forward, bracing a hand on Fred's shoulder as they both laughed at something.

Jessica pulled away from her mother.

"Don't make a scene," Carla hissed. "Fred isn't going to do anything."

Carla managed to catch up with Jessica as her daughter walked up behind Rita. Putting a hand on the redhead's shoulder, Jessica hissed into her ear. "If you don't get your tits back in your top and get away from my man, I'm going to stick a corncob up that well-used pussy of yours, and that's after I kick your ass."

Rita jumped from the sudden contact, interrupting her latest tale to Fred. Managing to turn her head enough to look into Jessica's face only a few inches from hers, she opened her mouth for an indignant reply when Jessica forcefully said, "The ass stomping starts in about one second. And remember, I'm a hell of a lot stronger and meaner than you. The first thing I'm going to do is tear off that little bitty top of yours, then see if I can kick you in those fake tits. You know damn good and well that he belongs to Mom and me, so don't even pretend you don't. Now get," she finished, shoving the redhead.

"Oh, shit," Fred quietly said as Rita quickly walked away, cursing and buttoning her top.

Carla and Jessica whispered to each other for a moment. Then Carla turned to Fred; "If, later down the road, you decide that you want to try that, we'll understand. Just talk to us first. You don't have our brand on you, but she damn sure isn't going to be first — nor regular."

With that, mother and daughter turned and walked away. "Oh, shit," Fred quietly repeated.

"Looks like your new wives have spoken," a voice said in his head.

Fred couldn't think of anything to say, so after a few moments, he closed his mouth and went for a beer.

By eleven the party had wound down. Jeff has "danced" with every woman there, he guessed. At least he hadn't stepped on any feet. He had tried to help clean up, and did manage to help with the picnic tables and chairs. He sat now in a dim corner of the yard, relaxing until the women finished, tired from his long day. Judging by all the laughter, the women weren't in any hurry to complete their work. Closing his eyes, he drifted, his mind remembering:

The night was just the right temperature, and although cloudy, it hadn't rained. Someone suggested that the "band" move into the yard. The yard, although well taken care of, wasn't a dance floor, but if anyone cared, they didn't comment.

Jeff had tried to hide at the side of the yard, near where he was now, but hiding from his spouses with their Jeff "radar" was a joke at best. "Come on, Baby," Jennie said, none too quietly. "It's only the Texas Two Step. You can do it just fine."

Jeff, not being a complete idiot, had spent some time on the computer memorizing dance steps of several types. He had gone over them in his mind until he was reasonably sure that he could make his feet go where they were supposed to, so with a little confidence that he could wing it, he allowed himself to be pulled into the crowd.

He quickly wished he had waited and watched for awhile. "Two Step," he groused to himself, that's a joke. Two fast steps — two slow steps. Yeah, right. Then they threw in all the rest. These people can dance.

At least no one has fallen on the ground laughing — yet. And that darn Fred is taking to it like a duck to water. Even the preacher is better than I am. And Evie is sitting over there playing her guitar almost bouncing up and down with energy — most of it laughing at my bumbling ass, I'll bet.

Finally, they got to the slow dancing part, and he liked that, having done it at least a few times. He glanced over his partner's shoulder (a woman of about fifty that was asking him numerous questions) at his young wives, each of them dancing with a boy. At least the kids aren't trying to rub up against my wives. Kirk has suddenly lost a partner twice in the last few minutes. If he touches one of my wives, I'm gonna ... Oh, hell, cool it, Jeff. They can take care of themselves. And most of the boys are just kids. The grownups are pretty much staying with each other. I haven't seen any of the men trying to slow dance with my girls.

Finally, it was over, but he had learned a little. I won't be as uptight the next time. These are nice folks. Hey, even the preacher drank a beer, and he's not a bit bashful about asking a woman for a dance. Diana likes him, even danced with him three or four times. If she likes him, that's good enough for me.

Diana grabbed him for the last dance, and plastered herself against him. "Baby, it's not, uh, that I don't like this," he said as her breasts burrowed into his chest, "but my dick is going to be obvious if you keep on."

"Oh, pooh. Just about every guy here has a hard-on by now, at least if he's out here dancing," she said, trying to push her groin against his leg.

He gave up and let it happen. The lights had been turned down, anyway, so maybe no one would see. He noticed that his other wives had refused the last dance, much to several of the guy's disgruntlement.

Now he sat in the shadows musing over a great night with the people that had helped Carla and Jessica. The Thompsons waved to him as they prepared to leave. He waved back, then just relaxed, drifting.

-------

Arlene picked up a bag of trash and carried it to the burn pile a couple of hundred feet past where Jeff sat. A figure stepped away from a tree well away from the lights and intercepted her just as she got to her destination.

"Hey, pretty shooter. You look hot tonight," Kirk said, walking into her personal space and putting his hand gently on her shoulder.

Arlene turned away from him, dislodging his hand as she tossed the bag of trash on the pile.

Kirk put his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him and forcing his hard dick against the crack of her ass, then nuzzled her nick.

Trying to pull away from him, she said, "Let go of me. Trust me. What you've got in mind isn't going to happen with me. Now let me go," she hissed, trying to twist out of his arms.

"Come on, Baby. You know you want it," he said, tightening his arms around her and rubbing his cock hard against her.

"Last time, Kirk. Let! Me! Go!"

Kirk slid his right hand under her top, then on up to grab a bra-cover breast. Arlene made a noise in her throat and spun in his arms, causing a ripping sound as her top tore. His hand no longer under her top, he grasped her breast again through her top as she faced him.

"You know you want it, Babe."

"I told you no, " she said, loudly, but he only laughed.

Reaching across with her right hand, she grasped the top of his right hand, burying her thumbnail in the back of his hand as she closed her grip. Stepping back a half step, she grabbed around his hand with her left so that now both of her hands grasped his with her thumbnails pressing and finding a nerve center in the back of his open hand.

As Kirk tried to jerk his hand back, she went with his motion, pushing his arm in the direction he wanted it to go, instead of holding back as he expected. Now that her body was fully against his, she released her grip with her right hand and grasped him just above the elbow while slamming her hip into him. Turning hard, she rolled him over her hip, still firmly holding his hand with her left.

Arlene's technique wasn't perfect, but you couldn't prove it by Kirk. The result was that he rolled over her hip to hit the ground hard on his back. With both hands on his bent wrist again, she cranked down with all her strength, forcing his hand to fold almost against his arm. Turning his hand loose, she danced back out of the way, but Kirk didn't get up. He was still concentrating on getting air back into his lungs from having his back slammed into the ground.

When he could breathe some again, the pain from his wrist hit. "Owh, you bitch. You broke my hand," he gasped out.

"Nah, I didn't break it. Just bent it a little. But if you put your hands on me again," she yelled, "I will break it next time. You need to listen when a girl says no."

By then there was a stampede of adults. Haplin, Kirk's father, ran up. "What the hell did you do to my son?" he yelled, starting for Arlene, until a big hand that felt like it was a close cousin to steel, clamped down on his shoulder. The hand squeezed.

As he tried to wrench free, the hand momentarily went away, only to jerk his arm up so far behind his back that Haplin could almost touch his own hair. Then a hand returned to its crushing grip on his shoulder. One hand continued to squeeze his shoulder while the other pressed upward on his arm — harder.

Fred whispered into Haplin's ear. "That little punk you call a son, got just what he deserved. Now, I don't know whether you realize it or not, but you wouldn't last a whole second with that tall guy standing beside his daughter glaring at your son. I'm doing you the biggest favor you've had in a long time by keeping you from taking those last few steps."

When Haplin didn't seem to be paying enough attention, Fred shook him, rattling Haplin's teeth. "I'm giving you a break because you did at least send one of your hired hands over to help Carla for an afternoon. But you've just run out of favors. You need to get that piece of shit lying on the ground there and get the fuck out of here. You're not welcome here. You come back again, or snot nose there does, and I'll stomp a hole in your ass, and his. Capisce!" Fred finished, shaking Haplin again — hard.

Jeff reached down, grabbed Kirk by his sore and now swelling hand, then with his other, he grasped just above Kirk's elbow, yanking him to his feet. Kirk wound up with his face only inches from Jeff's, his eyes staring into Jeff's.

Spellbound, Kirk couldn't break the stare; Jeff's eyes seemed to expand until Kirk couldn't see anything else. "Never, never touch my daughter again. Nor any of the women with me, or on this farm. Do you understand?" Jeff growled, his eyes never seeming to blink, his voice seeming to surround Kirk.

Kirk fought to hold his bladder back. It wasn't what this weird man had said to him, but how he had said it. Right then, touching Arlene was way past touching a coiled rattler in his mind. He could feel the anger coming from this tall guy. He wanted to run, to piss, to do anything but look into those eyes, but he couldn't move.

Jeff suddenly turned Kirk loose, put his arm around his daughter and walked away with her. Fred shoved Haplin hard toward his son, then followed Jeff and Arlene.

Joyce walked briskly up to Haplin and his son. Spoke with them for a few minutes, showing them her ID and badge, then came back to the others where they had gathered by the back porch.

"This isn't over yet. I called for a unit to take a report. I'll see that it gets to the judge. I thought I recognized the name. One of the deputies mentioned a punk a while back that had gotten his sexual assault case reduced, and only received probation. I called in on my cell and checked. It's Kirk all right. And I think he just violated that probation in a big way. Apparently he didn't pay much attention to what the judge said. Whether anything is done about him this time, or not, it needs to be documented. He'll only get worse. I've told both of them the unit is coming. If they decide to run, it will only be worse for him."



-------

Chapter 66


LATE THURSDAY EVENING — SEPTEMBER 19

Haplin and his son didn't leave, but stood by their pickup arguing.

When the deputy arrived, Joyce apologized for having to call him and explained the situation, saying that this certainly wasn't a serious incident, but it could have been had Arlene not been able to defend herself.

The on-duty deputy assured her that a copy of the incident report would be sent to the juvenile judge.

A few minutes after the deputy had left. Haplin walked up to Jeff. "Mr. Matthews, I have a problem, and I guess I've refused to admit it for too long now. Maybe it's the way I raised him after his mother died — I don't know, but I'm going to get him to a professional. I don't know whether that will do any good or not, but I've got to try."

"The deputy was aware of the other incidences that my son has been involved in and told me straight out that Kirk was a sexual predator. I've damn sure spent enough money on lawyers getting him out of trouble. I guess it's time I admitted that everybody else is right about him, and that I'm wrong. I apologize for his behavior, and ... for mine, I guess. If I could take a belt to him, I would. But I've probably waited too long for that. I should have done it years ago. Again, I apologize."

Haplin turned to go, but Jeff put out his hand. Haplin looked at it, then clasped it hard in his. "I don't know what you said to him, but he's scared shitless of you."

"I told him to never touch my daughter or any of these women again. I didn't threaten him per se, but it was the same thing."

Haplin stood for a moment looking at Jeff, then, "I might not be able to take a belt to his ass, but I've just made up my mind to sell that rifle. I'll take the money and put it on his psychiatrist bill. Maybe that will get his attention. I'm sorry for what my son did."

Abruptly he walked away, motioned for Kirk to get in the pickup, and was gone.

Everyone had already left, except the core group — the Matthews family, Carla, Jessica and Fred, plus Dave, Evie, and Linda, Jeb and Annie.

"We're not going to end this great day like this," Carla said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Dave and Evie, would you please play for us so we can have another last dance?"

Dave smiled at her, "You bet."

The "last dance" lasted for another twenty minutes, while Jeff danced with each of his wives. At Evie's insistence, Dave danced a while with Linda as Evie continued to play. Carla and Jessica took turns with Fred. Jeb and Annie had already amazed them all with their dancing.

-------

As Carla, Jessica and the other women were finishing up with the last of the cleanup in the kitchen, Arlene stopped before Carla. "I'm sorry to have spoiled your party. I should have done something a little less forceful..."

Startled, Carla looked at her for a second. "Good grief, Baby. You of all people didn't do anything wrong. As a matter of fact, I loved it. That arrogant asshole had it coming ... had it coming for several years. He's been in trouble since — I don't know — forever. Seeing him lying on the ground, whining, with you standing over him was the funniest thing I have seen in a long time."

Suddenly hugging Arlene, Carla laughed. "Oh, Baby. Don't you worry about messing up my party by bouncing that dipshit off the ground. That was a great ending to a great day."

Jeff walked in with a freezer of ice cream in his arms. "Looks like this one got set aside. It's a whole freezer of homemade ice cream that hasn't even been touched."

Fred laughed while going to the cabinet for bowls. "Well, there's a remedy for that."

Leaving was delayed for a while.

-------

As the little caravan passed Martha's restaurant, Diana looked over at her husband. "It was nice to see Martha again, even though she could only stay for such a short time. We need to sit down with her and see if she will go with our idea about adding onto her place. Too bad it isn't already done. With the ski season coming on, people will be looking for a nice place to eat. This is a fabulous setting," she said, motioning toward the restaurant, although they could see little of the area in the darkness. "All she needs is a great building to go with it."

"And a chef. She's doubtless a good cook, but I'll bet the business would take off with a truly good chef. Maybe advertise his or her name as a come-on for the restaurant. Besides, Martha will have her hands full running the place; she doesn't need to be cooking, too," Jeff said.

Diana took a last look out the side window as they passed. "Oh, we never even considered that she would be cooking. The girls and I have spent some time with one of their programs designing a building. We've looked at pictures of restaurants, and borrowed some of their ideas to incorporate into our plan. We're not quite done, but it looks great. As soon as we finish, we'll print our mock up on some glossy paper and show it to Martha. She can make the changes she wants, and we'll go from there."

Jeff slowed for a curve as they began their ascent. "Yeah, but what if she won't go for the idea?"

"Oh, I think she'll go for it. If not, we'll have you talk to her."

"Doggonit, Di, why do you keep saying things like that? Why should I be able to convince her if you can't?"

Diana smiled sweetly at him. "You didn't seem to have any problem convincing Kirk."

"That was different..."

"Sure it was," Diana broke in. "But you can have her eating out of your hand in no time. Heck, she already thinks you're the greatest from helping Carla and Jessica."

"Bull," Jeff answered, glancing at her. "And besides, why do I get all the credit? You were in there just as much as I was, maybe more."

Diana was quiet for a moment, thinking. "We do make a good team, don't we? When we left Georgia on the way to the meeting with Wainwright, I thought my world had ended after all I had done. Now we have more money than we can spend. I have six sister-wives, with two more in the wings. I'm the happiest woman on Earth."

Jeff glanced in the mirror, but decided that everyone was asleep. "I'm still amazed that you're not jealous. You certainly would have been a year ago," he quietly said.

Diana put her hand on his leg, gently squeezing it. "I know that I've changed. But I've never been more satisfied. I look forward to the day each morning when I get up, and so do my sister-wives. She," Diana said, nodding toward the healer under Jeff's shirt, "has made a tremendous difference in our lives." Chuckling, she added, "Well, I guess that's a major understatement. Not only are we healthy now, but also there's no telling how long we will live from what you've said. So why should I be jealous?"

Diana turned to look at her sisters. (Joyce and Caitlin had volunteered to drive Jeff's truck back. Jeb, Annie and Linda were riding with Dave and Evie) "It isn't physically possible for me to love them any more than I do, and I think they love me the same way. How could I ever be jealous of them? And besides, I'm still the boss bitch," she chuckled.

"Looks like you're going to be 'boss bitch' to a couple more," Jeff said, reaching down and putting his hand over hers on his leg. "My Queen Bitch will soon have two more wives to break in."

Diana quietly giggled. "I don't think it will be me doing the breaking in. They are going to have some wrecked pussies after their wedding night."

Jeff grinned as the Escalade forged on through the darkness.

-------

Jeff awoke at four and eased from between Diana and Helen. After a short run in light snow, almost busting his butt twice, he took a quick shower, then walked into the kitchen to find Helen sitting at the table drinking coffee and working on a lesson.

"Didn't swim this morning?" he asked as he sat to sip his freshly poured cup of coffee.

"Oh, yes. I got up just after you did, swam, showered and dried my hair. You did pick up her gift?" she questioned.

Jeff, proud of himself, said, "You know I did."

"She was grumbling that you hadn't noticed when she hinted about the necklace. And if she has any conception of the other, she is doing an excellent job of hiding it."

Jeff took a sip, then set the cup down. Looking back up at Helen, he smiled and said, "Well, surprising any of you has become an iffy thing, lately. And I'm not sure that she isn't pretending, even to you. Heck, surprising people that know where I am every instant of the day isn't easy. If it can be done at all," he morosely added.

"Oh, poor Baby," she teased, sounding almost like Diana. "You have it so rough. All you have to do to get any of us to orgasm is to suck on a nipple or play with us for a few minutes. Not to say anything about screwing us all unconscious every night. And if you kiss us long enough, and do whatever it is with your mind, we have orgasms that way as well."

"You're beautiful," he suddenly said. "I swear you don't look a day over thirty. And your swimming does delightful things to your body."

Helen put her cup down and squeezed his hand. "I never dreamed that any of this would happen when I drove up that damned driveway with Arlene. Jeff, I'm so happy. All of your wives are. Oh, I like to hear you tell me that I'm beautiful — any woman would, but I don't stand a candle to Diana. I'm not even jealous of her beauty. She's the best friend I ever had, and more; she's my sister-wife. I never thought I would have again what I had with Martha, but if anything, this is even more."

Jeff leaned over and kissed her. "You are beautiful. If you ever doubt it, just look objectively in the mirror."

As she smiled at him, his voice changed as he said, "Now, I've got to get busy."

"Busy? What are you going to do this time of day? And, by the way, you didn't stay out very long for your run."

"Yeah, I know. I came back in early so I could fix Diana breakfast in bed."

Helen slid her chair back. "Oh, that's a great idea. I'll bet she will love it."

"Well, I hope so," he answered as he stood and motioned for her to stay seated. "You sit right there and work on your lessons. I'm going to do this."

Helen grinned at him. "Nice idea, Husband. But she would probably like to eat her breakfast," she teased.

"Oh, my feelings are crushed," he laughed, "but even I can cook waffles. Besides, I practiced the other night when I couldn't sleep. They came out just fine. And we have fresh strawberries."

"If you burn them, she'll still think it was nice for you to try, anyway," Helen said, grinning.

"If I burn them, I'll throw them out and cook some more. Besides, the waffle iron has a timer and the directions are on the box of mix, Smartie," he said sticking out his tongue at her like a kid.

-------

Helen dialed the bedroom lights up about halfway as Jeff walked quietly in with the breakfast tray. Diana awakened, her hair mussed and her nightie pulled to the side, a breast almost falling out of the front. Helen put a big pillow behind her so she could sit up comfortably as Jeff extended the short legs on the tray, putting it across her lap on the bed.

"Happy birthday, Beautiful."

The tray contained a half grapefruit in a small bowl, already sugared the way she liked it, and a waffle covered with strawberries, topped with whipped cream. Her coffee was fixed and sitting on the side next to a small glass of orange juice.

By now, all the wives were awake and wished their Queen Bitch a happy birthday.

Jeff tenderly kissed her, but couldn't keep himself from caressing the nipple that played peek-a-boo with him as Diana moved.

Diana pulled her mouth back from his. "If you don't stop, I'll have an orgasm, and while those strawberries and whipped cream look wonderful on the waffle, they won't look as nice on me."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Jeff teased. "We'll have to try it sometime."

Arlene snuck a strawberry, then made a production out of eating it by pursing her lips and sucking on it before popping it into her mouth, making sure that Jeff was watching, of course.

Someone said that they had to pee, and that started an avalanche toward the bathroom. Diana didn't seem to be bothered as she sat quietly eating her breakfast. Jeff wondered if she had already used the bathroom, then pretended to sleep while waiting for him. She had told him that sometimes she even knew generally what he was doing and whom he was with. If he had one of his wives with him, she certainly knew, then.

As the other women filed back in, he said, "Well, this is the big one. The big three oh. You've just joined the ranks of the aged and infirm," he teased, trying to keep his face straight.

"Bullshit," she mumbled around a mouthful of waffle. Swallowing, then taking a sip of orange juice, she continued, "If it hadn't been for the healer, that would have bothered me, and you wouldn't dare have said it, either, Buster. I was beginning to wonder when the regression would quit. I didn't want to be twelve, or look that way, at least. But the healer's work seems to have stopped at just the apparent age that I want to be. So your big 'three oh' doesn't bother me a bit. So there," she laughed.

The other wives left to start breakfast, leaving Jeff and Diana alone. "Happy birthday, Gorgeous. I guess I don't say it enough, but I love you with all my heart. I don't know what I did to deserve you..."

"You knocked me up, Silly," she interrupted. "And I'm still so very proud that you did. Even then, you were an Alpha, but I just didn't know to call you that. But the healer has enhanced it, just as she has the others. I'm very proud to be your wife, Jeff. More so than you will ever realize."

"Whoa," he laughed. "When did we get started talking about me? It's your birthday."

Diana set the tray on the bedside table. "So come here and make love to me. That will get me past the big three oh," she laughed, holding her arms out to him.

-------

Dave sat at the table drinking coffee while Linda and Evie helped Jeff's wives prepare breakfast. Usually, he spent the time going over his to-do list for the day. Not paying much attention, he continued working until he heard a commotion. Arlene and Helen had walked into each other. His list forgotten, he stared in amazement as the women apologized to each other, then continued with their work. Suddenly it dawned on him: Where was the organization — the "machine" as Jeff called it?

Linda put a platter of biscuits on the table just as Evie walked up with a big bowl of scrambled eggs. Dave grabbed Evie's hand pulling her near. "What's going on?" he asked without thinking. "I just saw Arlene and Helen walk into each other. Things look odd. You guys don't seem as organized as you usually do."

"What do you mean?" Linda asked. "I thought everyone was helping just fine."

"Don't you know?" Evie asked her husband. "Where do you think Diana and Jeff are right now?"

"Oh," Dave said, then again, "Oh."

Evie chuckled, "It's hard for them to concentrate when Diana is having orgasms."

Linda blushed crimson.

"Just wait," Evie said, turning and giving the embarrassed teenager a hug. "Diana says we'll be that way one day. Somehow, they're all linked. Well, at least when they're making love. And don't even bother asking how it works. I can't explain it. I can sometimes feel the link a little, especially when we're working together in the kitchen."

Holding Linda's shoulders at arm's length, Evie continued, "I hope Diana is right. If we can link like that, it will be so neat."

Just as Linda started to respond, all Jeff's wives stopped what they were doing, and most leaned against something, their faces flushed. Even Joyce and Caitlin, although they didn't suddenly stop like the rest, were red-faced.

"Wow," Linda said, forgetting to be embarrassed.

After a couple of minutes, there were giggles and laughter from the women as their controlled chaos dropped into gear.

"See the difference?" Evie whispered to Linda. "Diana must have fainted with her 'big one' as they all call it."

Linda couldn't think of anything else to say, but just repeated, "Wow."

Later, breakfast was almost over. Linda looked up from her food as all Jeff's wives turned their attention to the door. A few seconds later, Jeff and Diana entered the kitchen. Diana had both arms around her husband, as he also held her close to him. Braless, her nipples tented the front of her top and her face and upper body were still flushed.

Linda had seen the look that Diana had on her face before. Her mother always had it when she and her dad came out of the bedroom after making love. "Fresh fucked," the girls at school called it. She could feel her face flame, and she quickly looked back at her plate.

Diana glanced at Linda, then quickly came around the table. "Happy birthday," she said, pulling Linda to her feet and into a hug. Whispering in Linda's ear, Diana continued, "Sorry we embarrassed you. My husband said happy birthday by bringing me breakfast in bed, then making love to me. We didn't mean to stress you."

Linda giggled quietly and hugged her back. "I'll be married soon and maybe have that look, too," she answered blushing yet again. "Besides, it's neat both of us having our birthdays on the same day. And Happy Birthday to you, too."

"We'll have the party tonight after your dad and Kathy get back." Turning to Jeff she asked, "Are Frank and Margaret coming back tonight?"

"Frank said they would be here. They wouldn't miss it for the world."

-------

Dave walked into the garage where Jeff had their Escalade on the rack, but only raised up a foot or so. "Just what are you doing?" Dave said, throwing his jacket on a bench and rolling up his sleeves.

Jeff chuckled as he rolled a wheel into the bay. "Now just what does it look like?" He knelt, aligned the wheel on the lugs, then reached for a lug nut.

Jeff had already removed all four wheels. Dave just frowned at him and went into the storage room. Shortly he was back rolling another wheel with its snow tire. As he began mounting it on the left rear while Jeff finished with the left front, Dave continued. "You know what I'm talking about. I've got any number of guys that would love to spend the morning in this spotless garage changing tires on all our vehicles. Besides, you make me feel guilty when I'm getting ready to drive down and look at some property while you're doing scut work."

Jeff stopped for a second and looked at his friend. "Now why would they like to do this? Seems to me that they would rather do what they're trained for."

"Well, there is that," Dave said, looking for the last lug nut that had somehow rolled away from the others. "But most of them like working up here, and if you're using a hammer all day, or swinging a big air framing nailer, or keeping a mason supplied in concrete blocks, this is a piece of cake — warm, dry, clean..." He found the errant nut and quickly spun it on.

Jeff finished running the last of his lug nuts up snug with the air impact, then slid the wrench toward Dave.

"You don't have to put the truck on the ground to finish tightening the nuts with the impact..." Dave started, but realized how his remark sounded.

"Yeah, I know. But when we get all four wheels on, I'll set the vehicle down, then tighten the nuts with the torque wrench. And before you say anything, I know that every garage just runs them up with the impact wrench. But then if you have a flat and some yahoo has tightened them as tight as the air wrench will get them, you stand no chance of getting the tire off with a lug wrench. Been there; done that. I broke two lugs off trying to back the nuts off, then just quit and called a wrecker. From then on, I stand over them in the garage. And if I do my own, I torque them to the specification that the book calls for."

"Yeah, I forgot you were an engineer," Dave said, just to mess with him.

Jeff went for another wheel. When he got back, he continued, "You know very darn well that I'm an electrical engineer. But that little episode in the rain with a lug wrench taught me a lesson. Besides, Diana and Arlene can change a tire — if — they can break the nuts loose. So I make sure that the nuts are right, and not over-tightened."

Dave soon came back with another wheel. "Better get your ass in gear. I'm catching up with you, Boss."

"Haven't you got something to do?" Jeff laughed as he realized that Dave was, indeed, going to finish before him.

Dave started the last nut, then grabbed the impact wrench before Jeff could reach for it. "I talked to my broker and got him started on the property around Jeb and Annie's house. Evie and I are going to get on that this morning. I was just going to check with you before we left."

"And of course, Diana told you where I was," Jeff said as he snugged the lug nuts on his wheel.

"Well, actually it was Helen. And when I left, she was trying to explain to Joyce and Caitlin how she knew where you were. It was kinda fun watching the genius stammer, trying to tell them how she did it," Dave said as he waited for Jeff to finish, then lowered the Escalade.

Jeff picked up the torque wrench and began bringing the lug nuts up to the proper tightness.

"You do realize that this is probably the only vehicle on the road that has had its lug nuts tightened to proper torque," Dave said, shaking his head.

"Nah, all of ours have been, plus a couple in Georgia," Jeff said, grinning at his friend. "And you're just as much a stickler for perfection as I am."

"Maybe so, but I just keep a battery operated electric impact drill in the truck. Works just as good with a socket attachment as the air wrench. Beats the crap out of a lug wrench."

"I never thought of that," Jeff said, but then frowned, "Be my luck that the battery would be dead."

"Yeah, there is that," Dave said.

Jeff wasn't sure whether Dave was pulling his leg about keeping an impact drill in his vehicle or not.

"How many more do we have to do?" Dave asked as Jeff got in the Escalade to back it out of the garage.

"Uh, Helen's Escalade, the Expedition, and my pickup. I'll get Laura's vehicle when Frank and the bunch come in from the airport with it. Well, while they're here. And you need to get your butt out of here before you get dirty and have to change clothes."

"I'm not going to leave you here doing this. Besides, it just doesn't seem right for a rich man to be changing out the wheels on his vehicles — or, changing his own oil," Dave shot back, knowing that Jeff hated to be called a rich man.

The bantering went on, then much later as they were finishing the pickup, "What's this about you fixing breakfast for Diana?"

"Look now don't start..."

"Did you wear an apron?"

"No, you know damned well, I didn't. I just fixed her a waffle, for goodness sake."

"Helen acted like she was impressed, and well, Diana was sure hanging on you when you two came into the kitchen. You must have done something right. And what's this I hear about roses on the tray."

"It was just one rose..."

"I didn't know that you could cook. This thing might get out of hand. What all can you cook?"

"Now look, turkey, it was just a waffle, and I had to cook that twice before I got it just right. Besides I cook a mean egg. And I used to cook cornbread just as good as Diana's."

"So you can cook eggs and cornbread. Now that's a hell of a combination," Dave grinned at Jeff as he finished the last tire. "I guess we're safe with that."

"And waffles. Don't forget the waffles," Jeff laughed. "I can usually cook frozen corn, too. And what about you? What can you cook?"

Dave wiped his hands on a shop rag and looked seriously at his boss. "I make a mighty fine peanut butter and jelly sandwich," he said pulling his sleeves down. "I know where my place is in the kitchen. I'm an expert at loading the dishwasher."

"Go buy us some property," Jeff said slapping Dave on the back. "I've got a present to wrap."

-------

A few hours later, Dave and Evie accompanied by their broker rode slowly through the area where Jeb and Annie lived.

"You sure about this, Mr. Henson?" the broker asked, eying the rundown and vacant houses.

"Yeah," Dave said, "I want to see about buying everything from the vacant steel mill to the other side of the salvage place."

"Salvage place?"

"Yeah, that place over there. The one with all the junk cars," Dave said with a grin, pointing. "Oh, I know it's a car lot, but my friend calls it a salvage lot. I think he's got it about right."

The broker chuckled, then thought for a minute. "When you called me, I didn't have much time, but I talked to my people. Matt says he's familiar with the area and thinks that most of these houses are owned by one of the slumlord companies. From the looks of all these vacant houses, they aren't making much money on rentals, even for slumlords. We'll ease into it and see if he's interested in selling. Also, Krista thinks that a small Christian college owns six houses on the next block."

"Why in the world would a college own property in this rundown neighborhood?" Evie asked, leaning forward to be nearer the conversation.

"She said that the houses had been a gift by the small real estate company that owned them. She thought the owner of the company died and left the property to the college. She knew about it because someone from the college had wanted to sell them. She had told them that it would be practically impossible because of the rundown condition of the houses and the neighborhood."

Turning back to Dave, he said, "I'll get her on it. You should be able to get those at a great price."

"Let's not broadcast this any more than you have to. I don't mind paying fair value or a little more if need be, but a holdout wanting ten times the price because he's heard that we're buying up the property could nix the whole process. We're trying to do two things, make a reasonable profit and help this neighborhood."

Dave pulled to the side of the street near the broker's parked car. The broker opened his door partway, then looked back at Dave. "At least my car didn't get broken into while we were riding around."

Dave grinned back at him. "That's the reason I cut across this street so many times as we checked out the neighborhood. I was afraid to let it out of my sight."

Dave motioned to Jeb and Annie's house. "We have the Reichs staying with us now. They were attacked and almost killed, probably as a payback for a burglar that they shot in their house. You might tell the real estate people, and any of your people that come out here, to not come alone, and to be careful."

The broker eased back into the seat. "I knew this place looked rough, but it's probably been a couple of years since I've been through here. I hadn't realized that it had gotten so bad." Looking around again with a new mindset, he whistled under his breath. "You sure you want to do this? I understand redevelopment, and I know that it has worked before, but if it's that bad..."

"It'll work, unless we get a holdout that wants to get rich selling a dump. Once we get people living here that have reasonable incomes, jobs, etc., they'll insist that the city do something about the dope dealers and thieves. We'll keep expanding until there is no place for riffraff around here."

"Well, I know that the city is buying up areas like this, so maybe it will work. But I'll tell everyone to be careful."

Turning to Evie, "It's nice to have seen you again, Mrs. Henson."

Evie smiled and returned the comments. The broker stood by his SUV looking around for a moment, then got in and drove off.

Evie got out of the back and into the front beside her husband. "Are you sure about this? We're going to have a lot of money tied up in this property, even with Jeff helping us..."

Dave reached over and squeezed his wife's hand. "It'll work, Babe. I just have a feeling about it. I can't put it into words, but it will work. No matter how screwy it sounds."



-------

Chapter 67

FRIDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 20

Dave and Evie sat in his Escalade in front of Jeb and Annie's house.

"Come on. Let's walk down to the convenience store at the end of the block," Dave said as he started opening his door.

"Walk?" Evie tried not to squawk as she grabbed her husband's arm. "What's the matter with driving over there? And I'm not sure I want to even go in that store, anyway."

Dave turned back to her with a questioning look on his face. "I want to walk around a little, get a better feel for things."

Evie tried to be calm. "Look, Dave, we don't have to walk anywhere. We're sitting in a sixty-five thousand dollar vehicle." She pointed out the window as a car very slowly passed, its windows blacked out. "What do you suppose he does for a living?"

Dave eyed the jacked-up-nineteen-eighty-something vehicle. "Well, considering that there's probably ten thousand dollars worth of rims on the car, plus whatever it cost to jack the thing up like that, not to say anything about that three-color fade paint job, and that most people with a job are at that job this time of day, I'd say..." He just stopped and chuckled. "Whatever it is, it seems to be profitable."

"I was all for this to start with," Evie sighed as Dave closed the door to talk to her, realizing that she was, indeed, upset, "but the more I see of the place the more apprehensive I become. What are we going to do when we start construction? We have to leave equipment on the job. These ... drug dealers, or whatever they are, aren't going to be pleased with their turf disappearing before their eyes."

"Come on, Evie. You know what we have done in the past. Okay, okay," her husband said, holding his hand up a little to forestall her objections, "this is a little worse than the strip mall we put in the last neighborhood. We'll just put up a higher fence adorned with razor wire for our heavy equipment, alarm it, and hire a couple of off-duty cops instead of using the guard company. Anything we can't move inside the fence easily we'll raise fifty feet in the air with the crane. We'll have to secure our tools every night, but we always do that, anyway. Once the cops get pissed off because they really have to work to keep the thugs away, instead of just watching TV all night and occasionally checking a monitor, the ones working here will have extra patrols stopping by to 'chat' with them at night. They'll be putting street thugs, burglars — you name it — in jail right and left."

Dave hesitated for a moment. "We've put out free goodies and coffee before to make the police welcome. You know that they will remember. We'll write the chief a nice letter like we did the last time, asking for more patrols, telling him about our project to bring back the neighborhood, and saying that the police are welcome to stop by for breaks. They were nice to us before. They'll help us again, and it won't hurt that we're supplying a couple of extra, good-paying off-duty jobs."

Thinking for a second, he added, "We'll also tell all our people, and I do mean, all, that we'll frown on any donut jokes. Jeff has already told me that cops can kid among themselves about donuts, but that's not outsider territory, and I can't blame them. Denver cops have always been good to us; I don't want some smartass screwing it up for us. Like always, we're going to treat them with respect and this time pay a little extra. From the looks of things, I suspect they're going to make a lot of arrests before they get their point across, but in the end we'll have a nice neighborhood again, probably by the time the construction is complete."

"What about what the lawyer, uh, Fontaine, said about possible assistance from the city?"

"Yeah, that's a point. We'll let Jeff and the lawyer approach that angle, but I'll talk to Jeff about having the city be made aware of the security issues. Once the city council is committed to redeveloping this area — whatever their ties become with the project — it will be easier to get things done. They might even foot the bill for the security if they're really serious about taking back their city. Who knows? But, my love, this will work."

Evie smiled at her husband. "I can never follow your logic on something like this. It's something I would run screaming from if it were up to me, but I was enthusiastic about it from your first comment on. And I can't explain that, either. Well, other than I love you," she giggled. "But that doesn't keep me from wanting to get the hell out of here," she finished, a frown on her pretty face.

"Come on," Dave said, pushing his door fully open, "let's walk over to the store and get a coke."

Evie got out on her side, then quickly came around to her husband as they started to walk across the street. "You do have your gun with you, don't you?"

"Yeah," Dave laughed. "It's under my shirt. But Babe, we can't let these hoodlums intimidate us. If I'm going to be running this project — well ultimately — Korey will be the boss; I can't show weakness to these guys."

Few cars had passed since they pulled up, so they just walked across the street in the middle of the block. Halfway across, Dave glanced down at his wife and said, "Come on. Strut for me. You're going to own everything in sight, soon. Quit looking over your shoulder."

"Strut?" Evie stuttered. "Diana is the one who does that. Well, I guess all Jeff's wives do. But that's not my style."

"Bullshit," Dave laughed, slapping her on the ass.

Evie yelped and hissed at him. "Those guys down the block are looking at us. Swatting me on the butt right now isn't a good thing to do."

Dave's voice changed. "I just showed them that you belonged to me. Now stand up straight and proud. Look them square in the fucking eyes. Don't look down, or look away."

Evie started to protest, but realized that her Alpha had spoken. As they stepped on the sidewalk and turned toward three young men standing about a hundred feet from them, she put her shoulders back and did what her husband said. Suddenly she felt confident as they walked toward the men blocking the sidewalk.

"Good morning," Dave said, when they were ten steps or so away, his voice forceful.

The men didn't move. Two steps away, Dave stopped, his hand on Evie's arm. "We only need our half of the sidewalk, but never doubt, we'll take that half," he said glaring at the guy in front.

Their eyes locked for a moment. "Well, fuck me," the guy said, stepping slightly to the side, making a sweeping gesture with his arm indicating they should walk by, but not getting fully out of the way. The gesture and his attitude were laden with sarcasm.

Dave stared at him a moment more, then brushed by him, as he and Evie continued on to the convenience store.

"What the fuck did you move for?" the guy on the right asked their leader.

"Well, you stand there the next time. I ain't messing with that big fucker. He damn sure ain't no pansy ass, besides I think he's fucking crazy."

"You could always stick a knife in his ass," the other said.

"Yeah, well, you do it."

They were still arguing when the couple walked into the store.

"You're going to have to carry me home and fuck me," Evie whispered to her husband as they stood in the back of the store. "I could feel you when you talked to that punk. How do you do that?"

Dave grinned down at her. "It's a date," he chuckled, "and I would be proud to give you another sperm injection," he finished using one of the terms Evie was fond of using when she was horny.

Looking around, Dave continued as he finally found a cooler that contained sodas. "Half this store and more is dedicated to alcohol of one type or another. Not your average convenience store."

Motioning, he continued, "Let's buy our drinks and find out how much that guy behind the counter will tell us about the owner. If anything."

-------

Later, as they approached the Escalade, Evie didn't have to be told to strut. She may have even overdone it a little. But the punks, who were gathered around the vehicle this time, although none of them had touched it, parted without having to be told as Dave walked her to her door. Opening it, he waited for her to sit, then closed the door and walked between the men. "Treat your woman like that, and you might be amazed."

Getting in, he made a U turn so he could drive back by them as the group walked across the street, then turned right by the convenience store, before heading out.

Evie glanced at her husband and shivered. My husband has always been able to get me excited, but lately he sets me on fire just being near him. Crap, we've got a long drive home. I need to get my mind off his cock,  she thought as she tore her eyes off his groin, suddenly realizing where she was staring. Trying to focus her mind elsewhere, she said, "Uh, I hate to see that nice little house of theirs torn down."

"Yeah," Dave answered as he stopped for a red light. "That's been home for those two for a long time. I'm sure there are some strong attachments to the place, not to say anything about memories. Maybe we can use it for our on-site office. We'll delay tearing it down as long as we can."

"So you really think we'll be able to buy all this property?"

Dave thought for a minute as they continued on. "Yeah. It just seems right. I think it'll fly. Oh, we'll have problems — we always do, but one of these days, there will be some nice condos around here. We'll have to keep one for ourselves," he grinned, looking over at the petite blond beside him, "then I wouldn't have to drive back to the retreat before getting into that sweet little pussy of yours."

Evie grinned back at him, and forgetting, reached over to massage his groin, feeling herself becoming wet again as she had on the street when Dave had confronted the punks. "Hurry," she said, wishing there were some way to sit closer to him.

-------

Helen walked into the bedroom, glanced at the big screen and frowned. Noting that the recording light was on, she tried to glare at the girls.

Arlene had seen her sister-wife come in, but Linda was engrossed in what was happening on the screen, and if Ann, Jennie and Melissa realized that Helen was there, they obviously didn't care.

"And just what are we watching?" Helen asked, unconsciously putting her hands on her hips as she assumed the teacher role and scolded her students. Just then, the security system shifted to a closeup view through the driver's side window of Dave's Escalade that was coming up the driveway. From the look on his face, Evie had him close as she quite clearly bobbed her head on his cock while holding his balls, his pants pulled down. As they passed the camera, another one farther up the driveway took over, now showing the view through the windshield, although this one didn't show as much of the action.

Helen managed to tear her eyes from the screen, then told the computer to shut off the view.

"Ahhh," the girls all said in unison, even Linda.

Helen, feeling herself flush, trying not to show it, but failing miserably to keep a grin off her face, said in as officious a voice as she could muster under the circumstances, "My students should not be watching such R-Rated material. They should be doing their homework, or at least relaxing before class starts again."

There was a chorus of giggles, and Ann replied, "Oh, you're just jealous because you didn't think of it first," distracting their teacher while Jennie turned the view back on with the remote.

Helen giggled a little despite herself. "Well, interesting or not, it is private," she managed before her eyes drifted back to the screen just as the Escalade made another turn presenting its window for another closeup. Evie winked at the camera, disputing Helen's remark about privacy.

Linda turned to their teacher. Being only partially successful in stifling her giggles, she tried to seriously say, "Doctor Boswell, I think you're mistaken on at least two counts. First it isn't 'R-rated, ' but clearly Triple X-rated. And second, it is educational for me, and homework as well. I'll be married soon and I don't want to disappoint my husband. This is research."

Helen, realizing again that her new student was no slouch, concentrated on keeping her face straight. Crap, I'm just as interested as they are. Evie is a sexy little vixen, and doubly so with Dave's dick in her mouth. She obviously knows that we're watching.

"Besides," Arlene said, "we're going to give the disk to Evie. I think she did it for a joke, anyway."

"Joke or not," Helen laughed as she watched the vehicle weave up the driveway. "If Dave manages to get here without bashing the sides of his Escalade in on the rails, it will be a miracle."

Helen sighed, giving up, not having been overly serious to start with, "Alright, but remember, when you start teasing Dave, he is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. So don't come whining to me when he embarrasses you."

If anyone heard, they didn't say anything. Dave had managed to park in the back. The security system had locked onto the view, doing all it could to eliminate any glare off the car window to produce the best view possible as Evie's head bobbed faster and the camera zoomed in.

On the big screen, Dave suddenly stiffened back in his seat as Evie's movements froze.

Oh, shit,  Helen thought as she watched Dave, knowing that he was filling Evie's mouth with semen, that is hot. Really hot.

"I'm going to find Jeff," Helen told no one in particular as she turned for the door. He's got some homework to do. Me,  she mentally added, walking faster in hopes that her sister-wives wouldn't decide to include their husband in their lunch break before she had her way with him. Laughing, she forgot sophistication, and took off down the hallway at a run. Ah, he's in the weight room. He's going to get some teacher pussy lying across one of those machines. Now if I can just beat the girls to him.

Halfway down the long hall she met Jeb and Annie. "Nice day," she tried to casually say as she rushed past, then shifted to flat out.

"Uh, yeah, it is..." Jeb said scratching his head as he and Annie turned to watch the teacher running down the hallway.

After a moment, the old man sniffed the air. "I like these folks," he said.

Annie jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. "The only one you had better be sniffing is me," she said, but it lost a little when she giggled, too.

"That's a fine ass," he said wistfully, still staring.

"Ouch. Shit. That hurts," he said tearing his eyes away as his wife twisted a pinch into his side.

"Crap. You told me I could look," he griped as he rubbed the sore place.

"Yeah, well, that was before. There's too much for you to look at around here, and besides, when I told you that, you had to take a Viagra to get it up. Now, I'm so sore that I'm walking stiff-legged."

"That last time was your idea," he said lifting her chin up so that he could kiss her.

"I know," she sighed leaning her head against his chest. "But I didn't bring anything with me. I hope Diana has something. It's just embarrassing for an old woman like me to ask for something because she's been fucking," she finished, trying to stifle a moan as she turned, causing something inside her to object.

As they walked into the living room, Diana immediately noticed how Annie was walking. Quickly getting up, she turned to Laura. "Could you get the pussy cream and meet us on the deck?" she quietly said. "I think Annie needs a soak in the big Jacuzzi."

"Sure," Laura said, putting down her book. "Meet you there in a minute."

-------

The girls met Dave and Evie in the hallway on their way back to class. "We made you a copy," Arlene said, straight-faced as she handed Evie a disk.

"Copy?" Dave asked with the beginning of a sinking feeling.

"He's so slow, sometimes," Evie teased. "But I think I'll keep him."

Arlene just grinned, then went into the classroom with the others. The giggles from all the girls weren't all that settling to Dave.

"We'll watch it tonight," Evie said. "But right now we're going to take the afternoon off like Diana has been trying to get us to do. Let's see how many times you can fill me up before I get too sore."

Dave, not being anybody's fool, threw his little wife over his shoulder and took off for their apartment.

-------

Jeb finally managed to find one of the women as Laura walked back up the hall from exercising. Wearing shorts and a sports bra, her hair in a ponytail, she walked briskly toward him.

"Um, Laura, can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Sure," she answered as she took the short towel from around her neck to wipe the sweat off her forehead.

"Could, Annie and I borrow a car for a little while?"

"Uh, sure," Laura said, frowning. "But I think Jeff wants to go with you when you go back to your house. He's worried about you two being there alone because of what you said about retaliation. Could it wait until tomorrow, it's already after one?"

"Uh, we don't want to go back to the house. We ... heard about the birthday party tonight. It's for Linda and Diana isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. They both have a birthday on the same day. Linda is sixteen today."

"Well, we need to run into town and get something for them, but our car is at the house."

Laura reached over and put her hand on Jeb's arm. "No one expects you two to have presents. Your coming out here was unexpected, and besides you didn't know. You didn't even know us until day before yesterday..."

The look on Jeb's face stopped her. "Uh, would Jeff's Expedition be alright? My Escalade is at the airport for the others to drive home."

"Yes, Ma'am. We'll take good care of it."

Startling him, Laura grabbed his face and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't you dare call me Ma'am. Or any of us. We have vowed that we'll never act like so many people do that have a little extra. Even Helen — Doctor Boswell — insists on being called by her first name. Now, I'm Laura, not 'Ma'am.' I know you know my name, since you just used it, but no Ma'ams. I know that there are a lot of us, and with all that's happened, it's probably hard to keep all of us straight..."

"I'll try," Jeb laughed, a little nervously. It's just the way I was raised, and after that, the Marines. And you people have done so much for us..."

"Nonsense, my hus... , uh, Jeff told us from the beginning that you two were special. I totally agree with him. Now, come on. We keep a set of keys on the rack in the kitchen. The Expedition should be full of gas. The girls tend to top off the vehicles regularly."

"You have gas up here?"

"Oh, yeah. The pumps are behind the garage. We're quite a distance from a service station and with the heavy snows that this mountain gets in the winter, Frank Wainwright, the man who built the retreat, put in tanks for gas."

As they entered the kitchen, Laura grabbed the keys and handed them to him. "Should you ever need gas while you're away from here, there's a Visa card in the glove compartment. Don't hesitate to use it. And I mean that."

"Oh, we're just going into Winter Park. Annie is getting ready now."

"Okay. Oh, yes. I guess you have one, but there is also a cell phone in the glove compartment, in case you need it. But you'll have to be at the bottom of the mountain before you can even hope to hit a cell tower."

Laura excused herself and went to get a shower.

Jeb was immensely relieved that Laura left before Annie came in. He got a glass out of the cupboard, filled it with ice adding water from the filter. Taking a long drink, he thought, Annie will kill me if she walks in and notices my dick swelled up and figures it got that way from looking at another woman. It was all I could do to keep it from becoming a full-blown hard on. All I have to do is think about pussy and my dick gets up. Laura is so sexy that I stammer around her like I'm a teenager — heck, all of them affect me that way. And Jeff won't tell me a frigging thing about what he has done to us. I've screwed Annie until she can barely walk, then a little later, jerked off in the bathroom like a kid. Ah, shit. I've got to get something else on my mind.

-------

"Come on Linda. We're waiting on you," Ann said.

"Be right there," Linda said, hanging up the phone.

A few minutes later, Linda walked briskly into the living room. It only took a couple of moments before she mustered her courage. Catching Arlene relatively alone for a moment, she quietly asked, "Is everybody braless?"

"Yeah," Arlene said, a mischievous grin on her face, "I guess it's going to be one of our traditions. When we were decorating for my party with Jennie, Melissa and Ann, we were teasing my dad by going braless. Jeff likes to see us, even now that we're married, so we thought we would tease him again."

Linda glanced at Jeff who was sitting farther down the length of the living room, his feet propped up obviously watching.

"Dad isn't going to ogle you, silly — well, not much. But I'll bet Dave will. Why don't you go into the bathroom and get rid of that thing. Give your future husband a thrill. And if my husband does look, so what. They're funny to watch. Their eyes sort of bounce up and down if you're pretty close to them and jiggle your titties a little."

Linda glanced toward Jeff again, commenting, "Everyone will be here in a little while — Mr. Wainwright, my dad, Kathy and Margaret. I don't know whether my dad would fuss at me or not for going braless in front of every one ... uh. I guess that was a little girl thing to say," she quickly added. "Shortly, the only people I'll have to be concerned with are my husband, and my, uh, sister-wife ... Oh, that didn't come out right..."

"I know what you mean," Arlene said, grinning at Linda. "You weren't meaning to show disrespect to your dad, but you will belong to Dave shortly. And your dad is a pretty sharp guy. You might get to watch his eyes bounce up and down a little, too. Now why don't you get rid of that thing, then when Dave comes in here, lay one on him and rub your titties on his chest while you're doing it? It will be fun watching him trying to cover the lump in his pants and act nonchalant at the same time."

"But what will your mother say? I mean; I'm not family..."

"Bull," Arlene broke in. "You will be shortly. And Mom, Laura and Helen are no slouches, either. They like to bounce their titties for Dad just like we do. And they won't miss this chance."

"But what if Evie doesn't? I don't want to do something like that if she isn't going to."

"Heck, we all go without when there's just family here. And remember, Dad has declared Dave and Evie family, just like he has Frank and Margaret. I'll call Evie to tell her. She just might be wearing one because of everyone being here. She won't bat an eye about going without. Then we'll have to talk Margaret out of hers. I would like to see those big ol' titties of hers without a bra."

Linda blushed in spite of trying not to. "I don't think Margaret will do it."

"Bull. You just watch. Margaret has lightened up a lot since she spent those two weeks here. I'll bet Frank will have her out of it by the time they get here ... Uh, I mean out here," she laughed. "I think he has her out of it a lot when they're in their suite," she giggled.

-------

The party was in full swing. Fred, Carla and Jessica were currently sitting on a couch laughing and talking with Frank and Margaret who were sitting nearby. The presents had been opened and made over. Jeff had given Diana a necklace, the necklace she had hinted about. It was very elegant, but as she glanced over at her husband who was strangely sitting by himself, slightly apart from the others, she wondered. Something didn't seem right — complete. Something was going on, and for some reason, she couldn't feel Jeff's emotions like she normally could.

The girls distracted her for a moment, then when she turned, Jeff was standing near her. The room fell quiet as if a switch had been turned off. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips for a moment. In his other hand was a box that looked suspiciously like another necklace box.

"Jeff, what is this? You've already given me my present."

"Yeah. But now for your real birthday present."

All her sister-wives had gathered around, their faces radiant. "Your sisters and I thought that our Queen Bitch should have something that would symbolize our relationship," he quietly said as he offered her the box.

Diana stared into his eyes for a second while processing his words. She looked at the pretty paper; hooked a nail under the edge. Shortly, the paper dropped, forgotten, as she raised the lid. Inside rested another necklace, this one much more detailed. It consisted of a gold chain that supported three cross chains positioned so that they would rest just above her breasts in her cleavage. The cross chains were held apart with delicate filigree, which in turn presented six diamonds equally spaced in an arc with a larger diamond resting centered above the arc.

The six diamonds in the arc represented, of course, Diana's six sister-wives, with the larger diamond centered above to represent their Queen Bitch. Other diamonds could easily be added when Joyce and Caitlin married the family.

Diana had known that something was up; but the semblance, plus the beauty, not to mention the thought that had gone into the piece of jewelry, shook her. As her sister-wives touched her, sending their love, she had to fight to not break down and bawl. Then when Jeff took her into his arms, she lost it. "Oh, Jeff ... Oh, Jeff, I..."

"I love my Queen Bitch," he quietly said. "We all do. We decided that she should wear something that reflects her station in our marriage. This comes from all of us — was designed by all of us. And we give it to you with all our love."

By then, everyone was gathered round. Linda grasped Evie's hand. "You're going to be my Queen Bitch," she whispered into Evie's ear.

Madison was standing close and overheard what his daughter said. He found himself strangely pleased, although he wasn't exactly sure why.

As Laura held Diana's long hair away from her neck, Jeff fastened the clasp. He took her face gently in his hands, tenderly touched his lips to hers for a moment, then softly whispered, "Happy birthday, my darling — my Queen Bitch. I love you."



-------

Chapter 68


Linda was sitting on a couch with Evie when Dave walked over and knelt before Linda. "It seems there is something else that Evie and I would like to give you, too." He held a small black box toward Linda. "Will you marry us?" Dave quietly asked.

"Oh, my gosh," Linda squealed, her hand shaking as she slowly reached for the box that obviously contained a ring. Starting to open it, she glanced at Evie.

"Go ahead," Evie coaxed.

Linda opened the box and gasped. As she stared at the engagement ring, Evie held out her hand so Linda could see. "It's identical to mine. I wanted to get you one with a bigger diamond, but Dave..."

"Oh, no," Linda broke in. "I want it to be the same. Oh, that's so sweet. Oh, I don't know what to say."

"Well, it's usually appropriate to say yes," Evie teased.

"I've already told you both that the other night, but yes, yes, yes," she laughed through her tears of joy. Launching herself into a kneeling Dave's arms, she knocked him over backward to land on his butt with her in his arms. Soon her mouth was locked to his and she forgot that everyone was watching.

A few moments later as Dave sprawled on his back with a giggling Linda sitting on him, he slipped the ring onto her finger.

Laughing, Diana said, "Well, I've never seen it done just like that before."

Linda didn't even seem to hear them as she turned and took Evie's hand, holding hers beside it to compare the rings. "Oh, look, everybody. I'm engaged." She gently rubbed a fingertip across Evie's wedding ring. Grabbing Evie in a hug, "I want one exactly like that one, too" she whispered to the older woman whose face showed every bit as much excitement as Linda's.

-------

A little later, Bill Madison sat near the fire as Linda went through her presents again, this time making sure her father saw each one. In addition to her surprise last present, she had received jewelry, and ... a number of sleepwear ensembles, several blatantly into the risqué category. Seeing the grin on Kathy's face and the blush on her father's, she grabbed up another box.

This time she thrust the opened box onto Bill's lap. Taking the red satin negligee out, she held it up in front of her as she watched his eyes. "It's almost see-through," she said unnecessarily, "and check out the panties," she added, laying the negligee across Bill's arm as she grabbed the panties out of the box and held them up. There was a tiny little matching red heart attached to a g-string.

Kathy, now standing behind Bill's chair, leaned down and put her arms around his neck, hugging him, her cheek close to his as she oohed over the negligee that Linda was displaying

"Read the card," Linda said, an unfathomable tone in her voice.

Bill, knowing that something was up, carefully folded the negligee and placed it in the box, his mind racing. He even put the "panties" on top. Is she just trying to embarrass me? I've bought Jill plenty of negligees over the years. Linda has seen me give a lot of them to her — including thong panties. Why would she make a production of this set that someone has given her? And why does she want me to read the card? I don't like the look on her face.

Mentally shrugging, he opened the card.

From your husband and sister-wife to be, happy sixteenth birthday. We offer our blessings with our gift to be worn on the night you spend with your dad. We love you.

Dave and Evie

He vaguely heard Kathy whisper something about that being sweet, and felt her arms tighten about his neck.

Despite himself, the hand holding the card shook and his vision became strangely blurred. Time passed. He didn't know how much. When he started to speak, he realized that Dave and Evie were now standing behind Linda. Linda was leaning back a little against Dave's chest and his arms were wrapped around her just below her breasts.

Even though Linda, he and Jill had used the Jacuzzi together nude, he had always tried to not look at his daughter's breasts. When the image of her glanced-at breasts would drift into his mind, he would quickly reject the image. Now, Dave's arms seemed to almost display Linda's breasts for him, and Bill's mind for a second superimposed the image of her nude breasts upon the clothing-covered ones. It didn't help one damn bit when Dave grinned at him.

Dave cleared his throat. "Uh, Pop, suppose you and I go and get shitfaced?"

Kathy giggled in his ear.

Bill mock glared up at Dave. "Number one: I'm never going to be 'Pop' to you, and number two: I don't drink, so shitfaced is out. I never know when I'll have to fly."

"Well, once every few months, I drink one beer. So let's go drink a beer, and say we got shitfaced."

Bill laughed in spite of himself. "Just my kind of logic. And as you obviously know, that beer would be long gone from my system before I could get to the airport."

Dave just grinned at him.

As Bill stood, Kathy kissed him for a second and smiled. The men slapped each other on the shoulder and walked out the door joking. Just before Dave stepped into the hallway, he turned to wink at Evie.

"Men," Evie said to Linda, but there was a smile on her face. "They're just like big kids, sometimes. Women would just sit down and talk, maybe drink a cup of coffee and eat something chocolate. Men have to get shitfaced before they can communicate about something they're upset over, even if they have to pretend that they're shitfaced," she laughed.

Diana, who had stood there, but had not participated in the conversation, hugged Linda. "You did good. And you too, Evie. If it's going to happen like you two have told me, then better out in the open between the two men. I would like to be that infamous little fly on the wall right now though, so I could hear what those two say. But you do know, that despite all their shenanigans about getting 'shitfaced, ' they might very well never even mention the subject they went there to discuss, although they will probably come back closer friends. And men say that we're unpredictable."

Turning to Linda, she continued, "And you, our pretty little addition to the family, I hope you realize how much Dave must love you to even consider this, let alone go off with your Dad to 'discuss' it. And don't be too upset if that night with your dad is just that, a night in his arms. You might have a big job seducing him, no matter how much you try. My husband had a fit, to put it mildly, when Arlene seduced/raped him. I strongly suggest that if you really intend to do this — and understand, I have no problem with it and I think it's wonderful — but some intimate conversation with Bill before it happens, might smooth things a lot."

Glancing at Evie for a second, Diana turned and took Linda's hand. "Evie is becoming your Queen Bitch, Linda. I know my friend. She will help, and already has helped, to make this happen. But Dave is giving up a lot of — for want of a better term — his self-esteem for this to happen. Unless all five of you involved in this are behind it one hundred percent ... I'm not trying to dissuade you from this, on the contrary, just follow the guidance of your Queen Bitch. This should, and will be accomplished only with love."

Nodding toward the doorway, Diana continued, "Those two have just taken a giant step toward this happening in a very special way. But remember, even if only one of the five of you is hurt by this, then the whole thing fails." Diana put her arm around Kathy for a moment. "And remember too, that Kathy is just as much a part of this as any of you."

Evie looked at her friend and smiled, "I think we need to take your hint and the females should sit and talk, and ... plan."

Evie suddenly grabbed Diana in a fierce hug. "I know that all that was hard for you to say. I love you. We'll talk — all of us. Linda wants this badly, and we're going to make it happen." Looking around her to catch Kathy's and Linda's eyes, she finished with, "and we'll make sure it adds to both marriages. I think we'll all wind up loving each other more in the end if we go about this in the right way."

Kathy, a little embarrassed, cleared her throat. "Uh, if everyone agrees, I guess ... What I mean is, I think it would be a good idea if Diana sat in with us when we have our talk. Uh, if that's okay with you two."

Evie laughed at Kathy's stumbling. "Well, she's my best friend, and that's the only reason I didn't mention it to start with. Is it okay with you, Linda?" Evie said, turning to the teenager.

Linda's face flushed. "Yes. And I just realized while Diana was talking that I was being selfish. Being with my dad is something I've wanted ever since I knew what sex was, and that feeling is way stronger now that Mom is gone. But when I jumped Dad I didn't stop to think about anything else, even though Dave and Evie had already said they could live with it. But it's going to have to be something a lot more than just being able to live with it."

Tears welled up in Linda's eyes as she looked at the others. "I don't want to hurt anyone. Oh, I'm so mixed up," she choked out running out of the room.

"Oh, crap," Diana whispered. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Evie started after Linda, but stopped and turned. "Diana, would you come and make some coffee. I've got some chocolate cake on the counter. Kathy, would you..."

"Sure," Kathy said. "After all, Bill is going to be shitfaced, anyway," she kidded. But she was talking to Evie's back. "Time for some girl talk..." the young pilot said, taking Diana's hand.

-------

A little later, cleanup from the party was about done. Jeff was trying to hook a finger on the tie of the fifth trash bag when Joyce walked up. "Just got a call from dispatch. Uh, I had my phone forwarded to your number. The lieutenant on the night shift is desperately looking for another warm body. I'm about all that is left. We were already short in the department, especially night shift. Now they have people out with the flu, and apparently it keeps getting worse. It's going through the department like the chicken pox does in schools."

"And..." Jeff said, raising an eyebrow.

" ... And my comp time off just got cancelled. I've got to work a night shift. She said that the shift commander was trying to get me transferred temporarily to his shift until his staffing problems were better, and needed to talk with me about it when I got there. Sounds like I might even be going back to nights permanently."

Jeff frowned. "They're taking you off comp time to have you work more comp time. That sounds like a spiral with no end."

Joyce grinned at him. "Well, I've never heard it put just that way, but I guess it's descriptive. Except, I think that the sheriff has finally realized that he can't make his staffing problems go away with comp time. I'll get paid for this. And I can always use the money. I have no idea what my off days will be. Probably there won't be any for awhile."

Jeff grunted and frowned. "You don't need the money any more. Once you two say yes and marry me, your names will be on the checking account just like mine. This can't be a legal marriage. Our country won't allow it for some reason, but we are all partners — legal partners — with a binding contract. If something happens to me, you and Caitlin will still be rich, and still part of the partnership, for our marriage is to all of us, not just to me."

Jeff had let go of the trash bags. "But Baby, you can quit your job, as can Caitlin, any time you want. Not that I'm griping you understand, but lately I can't seem to spend money as fast as I make it. Between Frank Wainwright, the guy in charge of my investments, and a couple of companies that I bought ... well."

Jeff took Joyce's face gently in his hands. "Look, I uh, know this job is important to you, or I would have had this conversation with you before, but I thought we still had some time before your week of comp time was up. But..."

Joyce leaned her face into his hands. "To say that I'm flattered is an understatement. But this job is special to me. It isn't just a job. It's something that I'm good at, and although the money certainly isn't the best in the world, I still get a feeling of ... satisfaction. I get to do things that matter. Please, we'll talk about this later, but I must go. I can't let my fellow deputies go out tonight with so few people. If something happens, someone could die because they didn't have backup."

Kissing the palm of Jeff's hand, she took his hands in hers for a moment. "I always keep a uniform in the trunk of my car, just in case. We all do lately. And I had my gunbelt with me when I started out to my makeshift range, before someone I know — she smiled at Diana who had just walked over to them — invited me to lunch and the use of your range."

Pulling back from Jeff, "I've got to hurry."

As Joyce quickly left, Diana looked at her husband, "She's..."

" ... got to work tonight." Jeff took a breath. "I've fallen deeply in love with her, my wife. And this scares the crap out of me. It was one thing seeing her the first time in that spiffy uniform of hers, but now ... it's ... different." Taking another breath, he sighed, "I know that you probably don't agree with me, but I still don't like women going in harm's way. It scares the piss out of me."

Diana put her arms around her husband, hugging him tight. "She's going to be my sister-wife. I don't like this any better than you do. But we can't nag her. We have to, uh, suck it up and go with it, as you would say. We have to support her." But her chuckle sounded forced.

Jeff absently gathered his bags of trash and headed for the incinerator, his mind locked onto a problem that he could not see an answer to.

-------

Jeff's reaction was mild compared to Caitlin's. As soon as Joyce walked into their suite with her uniform on her arm, Caitlin burst into tears. "They've called you. I was afraid that's what that call was about. You're going to have to work a shift tonight, aren't you? It's not even day shift. You're going to have to go out at night. You know damn well it's far more dangerous. Joyce I..."

Joyce threw her uniform on the couch and hugged Caitlin before she could really get started. After a moment, Joyce pulled back. Brushing the tears from a frustrated Caitlin's face, Joyce said, "Do you really want me to leave with you fussing at me. Now we both know that if that hospital called desperate for someone to work, you would be up and putting your uniform on in a second."

"But..."

"Let's not fuss. Come take a shower with me. We don't have time to mess around, but we can be together."

Caitlin nodded her head, sniffed and started removing her blouse.

A little later in the shower as Caitlin worked shampoo into Joyce's hair, Joyce raised her head enough to glance at her lover. "Jeff mentioned marriage again. He told me that as soon as we were married that our names would be on his bank account. He said that we wouldn't have to work. He acted like he was really frustrated about me going to work tonight..."

"Well, that makes two of us. At least he and I agree on that," Caitlin broke in as she adjusted the nozzle to rinse Joyce's hair.

"Looked like you were agreeing with him while you were having all those orgasms," Joyce teased.

Caitlin giggled a little. "It's kinda hard not to with his head between my legs."

"Why do you fight it so much?"

Caitlin sighed, "It just seems like I'm cheating on Dad. I don't know. And Jeff already has seven wives. I mean, we didn't have any trouble sharing Daddy, but, oh ... Like I said before, things are all mixed up in my mind. I think I'm falling in love with Jeff, and I surely can't resist him when he comes near, but I still miss Dad."

"Well, me too," Joyce said, "but you know darn well that he wouldn't have wanted us to pine away for him the rest of our lives. Uh, something else about Jeff. I think he was planning to talk to us about quitting our jobs, but this call-in messed up his plans. I seem to love that man — well, all of them — more every day, but I love my job, too. I can't think about quitting. I've worked too hard to get to where I am. I'm working in a man's world, and I know it can be dangerous — for any of us — but I can't just quit. What would I do with my life?" she finished, picking up the bottle of shampoo and turning to Caitlin.

"No," Caitlin said, "you don't have time to wash my hair. Let's just get you ready. I don't want you to have to rush. Driving down that mountain road in the dark is dangerous enough without having to hurry. Come on let's get out. I'll dry and style your hair for you."

"It won't make any difference under that hat," Joyce replied as Caitlin toweled her off.

"It will to me. Now come on. If we hurry, we might have time for me to kiss your pussy a little."

Laughing, they teased each other as Joyce finished dressing.

-------

The lieutenant poured himself a cup of coffee and stood to the side of the roll call room waiting while the patrol sergeant finished his pre-shift briefing.

"Okay, the last item on your hotsheet. Another stolen vehicle. Only two vehicles have been recovered in the last month. All the rest of these ... zilch. The detectives figure that we've got a ring that has moved out of Denver to grace us with their presence. The only thing that we have that even might faintly be a MO is that a citizen saw a silver Acura like the one stolen. He said it was on a red rollback wrecker."

"Well, that just really nails it down," Walker laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. There are about a begillion silver Acuras, and another slew of red wreckers. But he thought the wrecker might have been a repo truck. Something to look out for, anyway. We've got nothing so far, and ten times the amount of stolen vehicles during the last month than is the norm."

The sergeant turned to the lieutenant. "That's all I have, Sir. Do you have anything?" knowing, of course, that he did.

"Yeah. I have a couple things."

Lieutenant Waldrop waited for Sergeant Byess to remove his paperwork from the podium. Taking a sip of his coffee from the Styrofoam cup, he set it on the podium. "I want to welcome back Joyce Cramer to night shift. We're glad you volunteered."

There were chuckles from the deputies, and a couple laughed out loud.

"Well, it was a thought, anyway," Waldrop laughed. "But welcome back."

"If I'm going to have to work extra, I had rather it be here than any other shift," Joyce broke in. "I got assigned to day shift. Probably as their token female. I darn sure didn't want to leave night shift."

Waldrop grinned at her. "They have two others now, so I guess you're expendable to them," he teased.

"I wish they would 'expend' me back home to night shift and be done with it," Joyce said, seriously.

Waldrop took another sip of coffee and looked around at the deputies. "Be that as it may, she's here for a reason, and the captain said that she will be here for at least three months. So, Joyce, I guess you got your wish, at least temporarily.

"More news," he continued gripping the side of the podium top. "We have two more people off with the flu."

He was interrupted by groans, then, "LT, I've got three weeks of comp time now, and I'm scheduled to be in court week after next on a murder trial. The last time I was in his court, the fucking judge made me sit through the entire trial, and I testified a measly hour out of the whole thing. I didn't even get to hear the trial. I got stuck in the waiting room for a whole week. He said he wanted me there in case the defense needed to ask me anything else."

"Yeah, I know. I've already spoken to the sheriff about it. He says he's going to talk to the D.A. That's all we can do. Maybe the judge will retire one of these days. He's the only one that won't work with us. He has the power of God and he knows it."

"That reminds me," Joyce spoke up. "I've got several cases in misdemeanor court, and they're scheduled for two in the afternoon next Wednesday. Convenient for day shift, but with me on night shift now, my sleep will get trashed if I can't get the time changed to early morning or late afternoon."

Waldrop took more notes. "Who is the judge?"

"McDougal."

Waldrop took another sip of coffee as he glanced at Joyce. "At least he's not full of himself. We can probably get that changed to morning court. How many cases do you have?"

"Uh, fifteen or twenty, I guess."

Waldrop looked up. "Fifteen or twenty? On day shift? On how long a period?"

"Uh, the last two weeks that I worked before I took my comp time."

"You made twenty arrests on day shift in the last two weeks?"

Joyce grinned back at him, aware that everyone was looking at her. "Well, three or four are just DUIs. (DUI — Driving Under the Influence) Uh, several of them came from a domestic. This woman's husband came down to the convenience store where she works and proceeded to whip her ass. Then about the time I got him booked, I had to go back. The rest of the family from both sides had shown up. It went down hill from there. Then I had two or three shoplifting cases, and an occasional rowdy drunk..."

Waldrop winked at her. "Well for a woman, that's not bad," he laughed. "Makes some of the people on this shift look kinda dry," he said, mock glaring around the roll call room.

Clearing his throat, he continued, "Seriously though, I'm not pushing for arrests. Tying yourself up on a DUI arrest for two hours means that someone might not get that backup they need. I'm not saying to let someone go that's a danger. But let's not troll for DUI violators, and any others, for that matter. If you have to make an arrest, though, you have to..."

Deputy Owens interrupted. "When in the hell is the captain going to hire somebody? We were short before this flu thing. This is getting ridiculous. All of us have more comp time than we've ever had..."

"And since you've interrupted me, Owens..."

"Sorry LT. But we're all fed up with comp time we can't take."

Waldrop sighed, "Yeah, I know. And here's the clincher. All off days, vacation, etc. are cancelled until further notice. I put a sign-up sheet on the board downstairs. Fill it in for your extra shifts. And let's not be cute and fill in for a shift you're already assigned to work."

There were moans around the room. "My wife is going to be pissed," from someone on the back row.

"And before you start pissing and moaning, the sheriff has approved all overtime for the duration — or as long as there's money in the budget."

"Well, my wife might not be as pissed after all. And she had rather do her spending without me, anyhow," the same voice said, chuckling.

"We told you what you were getting into when you married that little fox," Brown said, laughing.

"Ah, but the pus ... uh, the loving is good. Sorry Joyce, I forgot about you."

"Oh, I've heard the word a time or two. And everybody here knows I'm not going to start a sexual harassment routine just because someone slips and talks naughty in front of me, uh, if you guys will do me the same favor."

"Also," Waldrop said interrupting the laughter, as he turned to his sergeant. "Your illustrious sergeant and I will be working beats until the manpower thing is taken care of. And I'm not referring to just answering calls when everyone else is tied up. We'll each work a patrol beat. And that means..." he said, looking hard at everyone, "that both of us will be tied up on calls just like you guys. So handle things yourself as far as you can. We'll handle any questions or decisions we have to make on TAC 2 (Second radio frequency, frequently used as a "talk-around" by the officers where they can give each other information without going through dispatch and tying up the main channel) or by cell phone as much as possible. If you have to see either of us in person, you'll probably have to wait."

Tossing his empty cup into the trash, he looked back at the group. "We're short — real short. If it's a bad call, wait for that backup. These fuckers will be fighting next week, and next year. We've got two deputies off hurt now. One from playing football with his kids, and the other from stepping off a porch and breaking his ankle on a call. With us already short, and now this flu thing, we're going to have calls stacked up. We don't need anyone else off. So be careful."

Turning to the sergeant, he asked, "Anything else?"

Byess stood. "No Sir."

Turning to the room Byess snapped, "Ten-hut!"

Everyone stood and came to attention.

"Dismissed!"

-------

At the foot of the stairs, Sergeant Byess caught up with Joyce. "The captain sent word for you to just continue using your day shift vehicle for the time being. You'll be on Beat 132 except for Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Herman will be off with his foot for five more weeks, at least. So I'm going to have you fill in for him until he returns. I haven't decided where I'll put you on your 'off days, ' yet. But don't get married to 132. I'm having to back up and punt on assignments. The only thing that you can bet on is that you're going to get changed around some until we get more people on the shift."

"No problem, Sergeant."

As Joyce started to turn away, Byess quietly continued. "I don't know whether LT told you or not, but he asked specifically for you. They would probably have given him anyone he asked for, and he damn sure knows it. So that's a hell of a compliment."

Joyce just stood for a second. "Thanks Sergeant. I really appreciate that."

"Take care. Take your time. You know that things are different on night shift. Get used to it again." With that he turned into the lieutenant's office.

-------

In the back as everyone spread out heading toward their patrol vehicles, Dyson glanced at Gwin walking beside him. "We need at least five deputies and they send us one fucking woman."

Gwin hooked his arm over Dyson's shoulder, leaning on him, teasing as they walked along. "Ah, you're still pissed about her getting your ass kicked off the pistol team with her scores on the range. Hell, you can't shoot worth a shit anyway. And she out shot all of us. Besides that," he said motioning to Joyce who was a distance in front of them, "She has a nice ass."

"Yeah, I guess there is that," Dyson laughed as he watched Joyce open the trunk of her vehicle to check the equipment there. "But, I've heard she's a lezzie."

Gwin sniggered quietly as they walked by. When they were out of earshot, he continued, "Lezzie or not. I'd just like to watch. Besides, she doesn't act like that. I think that's bullshit."

They both opened the trunks of their Crown Vics. "I don't know. I've never seen her with a man. She only seems to be around that nurse."

"Man, so what's wrong with that? They're a double wet dream."

"Yeah, maybe. It just seems like a waste," Dyson said, slamming his trunk. "My spare shotgun shells are gone again. Some son-of-a-bitch is probably going deer hunting. If I ever catch the bastard, I'm going to stomp a mud hole in his ass. How can somebody steal another deputy's fucking shells? Don't they think I might need them one of these days? Shit. Now I've got to whine to the sergeant to get me more right after the lieutenant basically told us to leave them the fuck alone so they could work a beat."

Dyson went stomping off toward the building muttering to himself.

Joyce backed her patrol vehicle near Gwin and rolled down the window. "What's with him?" Joyce said, leaning out.

"Ah, some idiot stole his extra shotgun shells. I think Nancy is giving him hell because of not having any time off, as well. He's strung out a little bit."

"Well, I got a few days off, but then they remembered me," Joyce laughed. "But I know how he feels. I got my ass chewed when they called me in. Caitlin's really going to be pissed when I tell her that I'm back on night shift full time."

Gwin turned toward his vehicle. "Be careful, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Joyce laughed at the old joke. "That leaves me wide open. I can have a ball," she laughed, dropping the vehicle into gear and heading out of the lot.

Joyce pulled onto the street and turned left heading toward her beat.

I guess I'll ride around a little. I've only worked 132 a few times. I guess I... 

"132," dispatch called.

Joyce picked up the mike and keyed it. "132."

"132. 10-50 Signal 10, handle Code 1. Parkwood and Morgan Road." (Wreck. No injuries, proceed to call obeying all traffic laws.)

"132. 10-4."

At least I went to the bathroom just before roll call. Caitlin talks about nurses having bladders like camels. We have to be about the same way. Learned my lesson the hard way about that. Should have listened to old Jefferson when he told me to use the bathroom any time I was near one — that my next chance might be five hours away. Damn it, men are so lucky, especially out here and on night shift. They can just find a dark spot and water a bush. Not that I haven't done that, too. But they can just pull it out and do it. I've got to take my gunbelt off, then pull down my pants and panties. It's a darned vulnerable feeling with my butt hanging out. Not to say anything about worrying about a rattler biting me on the ass — or worse.

A little later she thought, Maybe it's just a fender bender and I won't have to wait for a wrecker. Oh, shit. I hope there's not a DUI involved. The lieutenant is going to be pissed if I get tied up for a couple of hours on my first call of the night. Shit! Cross my fingers.



-------

Chapter 69


"132."

"132," Joyce answered.

"132. 10-43. 1541 Dixon Road. Signal 7. Black 2003 Grand Am. No tag available. Proceed Code 1." (Stolen vehicle. Perpetrator not on scene. Proceed to call obeying all traffic laws.)

Joyce looked at her dashboard clock. 2:12 A.M. Pulling to the side of the road, she typed the address into the GPS that Caitlin had given her for Christmas. As she backed out on the display to show the entire route, she thought, Oh, I remember where Dixon is, now. There are only a few houses on it and it's a couple miles from where Goodman lives. (The deputy that went with her to thank the Matthews.)

She started to erase the route from the GPS, but stopped. Ah, heck, I'll leave it on. I know where the road is, but it will help me find the house number in the dark. Besides, if I tell Caitlin that the GPS made it easier to find house numbers in the dark, it might get her mind off fussing about me being on nights again. Yeah, and if cows could fly.

A little later, her headlights flared off reflective numbering on the roadside mailbox. She flipped the alley lights on momentarily (lights on either side of the light bar on top of the patrol car) to check the yard and front porch. As she opened her door, the inside lights came on. Damn. If I'm going to use this vehicle on night shift I'm going to have to get the garage to disable the door switch. Nothing like lighting yourself up as a target. (Most night shift patrol vehicles have the switch in the door disabled so the officer/deputy isn't lit up as they exit their vehicle.)

While walking the fifty feet or so up the front walk, Joyce automatically checked her surroundings. It was obvious that the occupant frequently parked his or her vehicle close to the side of the house, giving a little more credence to the person having noticed that the vehicle was gone in the wee hours of the morning. Still, it was a little odd. She could clearly remember her training officer cautioning her to never accept coincidence at face value, to always look hard at things that didn't fall into the normal pattern. "Look hard — live longer," he told her over and over.

Maybe she was out somewhere with someone, then when she got home she discovered that her vehicle was gone. I'll find out, soon. Noting that the front porch light was on, she mentally thanked dispatch. It was standard procedure for dispatch to tell the resident to turn the porch light on and watch for the deputy. If the deputy drove past without stopping, the complainant should flash the porch light and call dispatch back. Addresses weren't all logical or in the proper order, if people bothered putting them out at all, or put out numbers large enough to read from the road, or put them in an obvious place. Sometimes there were a number of mailboxes standing in a group with numbers on them. It was anybody's guess as to which mailbox belonged to which house, yet the complainants always expected the deputy to respond in a hurry and be able to drive right to their house.

Joyce walked up the few steps to the porch. Standing slightly to the side of the door, she knocked — a cop knock. Nothing overly loud, but not tentative, either. More than one cop had found that standing in front of a door when they knocked was a great way to catch a bullet, so habitually, she stood to the side.

She remembered watching a video reenactment of an incident that happened to a cop. Two detectives had gone to a house, and one of them stood in front of the door and knocked. They found the guy with the sword all right. He rammed the nearly four foot blade through the door and completely through the detective. The other cop showed the sword-wielder that bullets would go through the door, too. Miraculously, the detective lived, although the injury was too debilitating for him to ever return to the force.

There was movement inside the house and the door opened to reveal a young, pretty woman, probably in her mid twenties with short dark brown hair, dressed in a wrinkled tee-shirt and jeans. She had apparently made a halfhearted attempt to brush her hair.

"Deputy Cramer. You called about a stolen car?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm Alesha Turcott. The one who called. Won't you come in?"

Joyce stepped through the door, her senses alert, but her stance and body language appearing to be relaxed. Her training officer had slapped a pad from her right hand on a call one time, embarrassing the crap out of her, but breaking a bad habit. "Appear relaxed, but use your weak hand for everything until you're absolutely sure that you're safe. There is no such thing as a routine call. Things can go to shit in a heartbeat."

"You didn't have a tag number for your vehicle when you called dispatch. Do you think you could find your tag receipt?" Joyce said as soon as she stepped through the door.

"Uh, I think it's in the glove compartment, but I believe I wrote the tag number down on my insurance papers. You can have a seat on the couch there if you like," she said indicating an old green couch by the door. "It will only take a minute for me to find my papers."

Changing her mind about the tag receipt for the time being, Joyce motioned for her to wait for a moment, "Could you please tell me why you noticed that your car was missing at this time in the morning? Just curiosity."

Turcott took a breath then looked Joyce in the eye. "I split with my old boyfriend a couple of weeks ago. This new guy asked me on a date, so we went out and danced a while tonight. When we got back about eleven, I came in and went to bed, but I had three or four beers while we were dancing, and they ran me out of bed. I usually park my car right by my window. The blinds were partway open and I just glanced outside when I got back in bed after the bathroom. There's plenty of moonlight. And well, I could see that my car wasn't there."

Joyce wasn't satisfied. Something still didn't ring true. "Let me get this straight in my mind. I'm going to have to fill out a report, so I need to get it right. You had several beers, were out with a new boyfriend, got home not late at all for a Friday night, but he didn't come inside..."

Turcott sighed. "He was okay. He was nice to me, but I really didn't know him that well. He wanted to come in, but I had made up my mind I wasn't going to bed with him. I mean, I, uh, helped him out a little in the car as we sat out front and necked, but I wouldn't let him come inside the house."

The woman's body language and demeanor suggested that she was telling the truth, but something wasn't right yet. "Forgive me," Joyce said, "but I'm still having a problem with your looking out your bedroom window at two o'clock in the morning..."

Turcott glanced down at the floor for a moment. Looking back up she said, "To be absolutely truthful, I guess I was sort of expecting it, or at least something to happen. I dated this guy, Crawford, for a while. He started out nice, but when he's drinking he gets really ugly. I finally broke it off with him, but he's come by twice during the last week looking for ... pussy, as he calls it."

The woman paused for a moment. "He slapped me once, hard enough to knock me against the wall. He said some things the last time he came over, but I wouldn't let him in the house. When I threatened to call the sheriff, he hauled ass. I guess I've just been worried that he would do something, though. He sure ran his mouth enough. I've been on pins and needles lately, and uh ... I hate to say it this way, but I, uh, just guess I need to. While I was giving Douglas a hand-job tonight in the car, someone drove by. I think it was Crawford. So I was worried. That's the reason I looked out the window. I was checking on my car. I was afraid he would do something to it. He has a violent temper."

Joyce smiled at her. "Thank you. Now we have a suspect." And now we have the truth, she added mentally. Damn, why don't people just cough it up to start with? It would save a lot of time. At least I'm no longer naive enough to start a report until I'm sure that I'm getting the real story. It pisses me off to finish a long narrative, then find out that I have to tear the report up and start over because someone has been bullshitting me.

"Uh, won't you please sit down? I guess I'm shook. I don't even remember if I invited you to sit or not."

"No problem," Joyce said, waiting for Turcott to sit first before she seated herself on the couch, not leaning back, but sitting on the edge so that she could quickly stand, as she had been taught.

Joyce balanced her pad on her knees thinking for a minute. "Okay. Thanks for the candor. But I need to get a little more personal in order to sort things out. Did your ex-boyfriend ever live here with you? Does he have any reason to think that the car belongs, even in part to him? Did he make any of the payments, loan you money? Anything like that?"

Turcott was shaking her head. "No. He never even spent the night here. I mean, I uh, slept with him, but I made sure he never spent the night. I tried that with a guy several years ago when I lived in Denver. I thought I had found Mr. Right, but it didn't work. In no time flat, he was running my life. So if I sleep with a guy, and there have been darned few that I have slept with, he goes home afterward. Or if I go to his place, I come home afterward. It's just the way I am. I mean, I'll give a guy a hand job on the first date if he is really nice to me, but I'm not going to spread for him that soon. And nobody is going to spend the night with me. Nobody is going to run my life," she finished, vehemently.

"What about money? Did he make a car payment for you or loan you..."

"Hell, no. The bastard can't keep a job. All he has is a big dick. When we went out, he was usually broke. He wanted me to loan him money, but he wasn't that good in bed. I work hard for what little I have. I'm not giving it to a drunk. I've been down that road. Never again."

"All right," Joyce said. "Look, I'm going to need his full name, address, description, everything you can tell me about him. I'll start on the narrative now while you go get the tag number of your car. And bring back your driver's license. If everything is current, I can just copy off it and save a little time with some of the information about you."

"Okay," Turcott said, as she left to go into the bedroom.

Joyce had gotten the first sentence done when she heard a loud noise from the other room as if a chair had been knocked over. Then: "Call the fucking cops on me you fucking bitch," a male voice yelled.

Her pad hit the floor as Joyce stood, her weapon coming out of the holster without conscious thought on her part. Before she could even take a step, a lanky, somewhat scrawny male, maybe five foot nine, about thirty, shoved Turcott into the room, his left arm hooked around her neck. He held a very large revolver with a six inch barrel against the side of her head. A chill passed through Joyce's mind as she realized that he had the hammer cocked back.

Even as Joyce's Glock came to bear on Crawford's face, she raised her left hand to her lapel mike. A memory flashed through her mind. She recalled one of the old timers telling her that when the shit hit the fan to press down on the lapel mike button, then shove it hard to the left. It would lock on. "Say double-aught twice (The call for help) then get down to business. Let dispatch figure out what's happening," he had said. "Keep every bit of your mind on the son-of-a-bitch with the gun. Nobody is going to get there in time to help you, but everything you do will be on tape. (All radio traffic is recorded.) They can't say you didn't do this, or did do that. It will all be there and the troops will be coming from hearing your double-ought and the shit go down on your radio. Warn the perp twice, if you have time, then shoot the motherfucker. Go home at the end of the shift. If you fuck up, better to be tried by twelve than carried by six."

The mike clicked as she pressed the transmit button, she shoved hard to the left and felt it hang there. Bet the manufacturer doesn't know that,  some part of her brain thought. Leaning her head a little to the left so her mouth would be nearer the lapel mike, she quietly said, "132. Double-aught! 132. Double-aught!"

"Ain't gonna do you no good to call for help Little Miss Pussy. I'm gonna kill this bitch, no matter what you do."

Ah, shit. And I was off on comp time! I shouldn't have answered the fucking phone. Aloud, "Just take it easy. That gun is cocked. Please be careful with that gun, and please think about what you're saying. We can work this out."

"Shut the fuck up, Bitch," he said. "You're all alike. You want some dick when you want it, but then when the man wants a little extra pussy, you clamp your legs together. Fuck all you bitches!" he screamed.

Oh, fuck. Cocaine rage — crack rage. Some damned drug rage. There's no way I can take this guy out. When my round hits him, even right between the eyes, he's going to twitch his trigger finger, that Smith (Smith and Wesson) is going to do its thing, and Turcott is going to be dead. Shit! Shit! Shit!

Aloud, in as calm a voice as she could muster, she said, "Easy now. You haven't done anything so far that you can't get out of. Once you pull that trigger, you can't go back. You don't really want to kill her. You two might even work this out. Please don't go too far. If you pull that trigger, I'll have to fire and I guarantee you I won't miss at this distance. When you kill her, you'll die the same second."

Crawford pulled Turcott a little to the side causing both of them to turn some, giving Joyce a little different angle. Suddenly she saw the front of the cylinder of the gun and for a second the bore. Oh, fuck. He's got a fucking hand cannon. That's a damn .44 Magnum. The little shithead has got a damned Dirty Harry gun. Little man syndrome — gotta have the biggest gun. Oh double shit! She already said he has a big dick, but I guess that isn't good enough for him, he's got to have the biggest gun he could find. Sadness filled her soul. I'm gonna die tonight, and Caitlin and I were fussing when I left the retreat. I'll never get to tell her that I'm sorry.

Crawford clamped his arm tighter around Turcott's throat, partially choking her. As she struggled trying to move his arm enough to breathe, Crawford shook her. Glaring at Joyce he yelled, "Get the fuck out that door. Get in your car and get out of here and I'll let you live. I'm going to kill this bitch."

"Take it easy Crawford. Just calm down. Come on man; we can work this out."

Crawford waved the gun around for a couple of seconds, taking it from the woman's head, but now he was standing full behind her and Joyce didn't have a shot.

Come on you son-of-a-bitch, just stick your stupid head out for a second when you don't have that muzzle against her head,  she thought, her mind becoming crystal clear.

Turcott struggled with Crawford's arm trying to breathe. His position changed but he had the barrel against her head again.

"It's time," he yelled. "Time to blow this bitch to hell."

Joyce whispered into her mike. "I'm going to try to make him take me on so he'll take the gun away from her head. He's going to kill her."

Joyce took a shaky breath. "You're not much of a man. You know that? Hiding behind a helpless woman with your great big Dirty Harry gun. Big bad man that you are, I'll bet you couldn't whip my ass in a fight. Nah, I'd kick your scrawny ass all over the place. Dirty Harry. Hah, you wouldn't make a pimple on Clint Eastwood's ass," she sneered, paraphrasing something she had heard Jeff say.

She saw the anger flare and the barrel snap around. Everything seemed to slow to a crawl. She had already pulled back enough to take the slack out of the trigger. Another two pounds and it would go. Her focus on her sights was oddly sharp, her mind resigned as the .44 Magnum fired and the Glock bucked in her hand. There was a sound so loud in the small room that words to describe it are totally inadequate. The concussion of the rounds going off in the enclosed space was almost enough to stun anyone there.

All that the deputies that were desperately trying to get there could hear on the open mike was a woman endlessly screaming.

-------

Diana stood in the doorway watching her husband's pacing. She had never seen him like this. "What's wrong, Baby? Are you worried about Joyce, or something else?"

"That's just it," he said forcing himself to stop as she walked up to him. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just uptight for some reason." He stopped and put his hands on his wife's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know that I'm messing up your birthday..."

"Oh, pooh. I don't give a rat about that. And besides, the party is long over. I just want to know what's wrong with you. You were happy as you could be, chasing the girls around and making them giggle themselves half to death. After a while you just got quiet, then the next time I came in the living room, you were pacing. Now when I've come back, you're still doing it."

Jeff sighed, turned to stare at the fire for a moment. "I don't know what's wrong. My nerves are jangling and I just feel ... odd. It's a little like a storm is ready to break, or something. I've had these feelings before, and they never bode well." Jeff didn't tell her that they had usually been followed by combat in one form or another. He had felt it once just before they were ambushed. His alert had been the only thing that had saved his team.

"You mean like you had on the interstate that time when the eighteen-wheeler would have run over us if you hadn't yelled for me to turn off?"

Jeff thought for a moment. "I ... don't know. That just hit me all of a sudden ... It's like I need to do something right now, but I don't know what. Ah, shit," he sighed. "Let's go to bed. Maybe it will go away."

Diana's sister-wives had planned a loving session for her at bedtime, but now with Jeff so uptight, they put off their plans. As they settled down for sleep, Diana and Arlene snuggled to Jeff trying to send their love — all the wives worried.

-------

Jeff was restless, his sleep intermittent, highly unusual for him. He eventually cycled into a deep sleep. Suddenly he yelled out a forlorn, "Noooooooo," that went on and on as he sat bolt upright shedding Diana and Arlene who were lying partially on him.

Someone dialed the light up as all the women scrambled up almost in a panic, every eye locked on Jeff, his feelings washing over them in waves.

Sweat beaded his forehead — his body glistening with it as well. "Joyce," he gasped. "Oh, God, Joyce," he repeated.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Diana asked, dread causing her voice to be almost a croak.

"Mom, look," Arlene said, nodding to the way Jeff was holding his chest.

Jeff turned and put his feet on the floor, still sitting on the side of the bed. Running his hand through his hair, he tried to shake the dream, but the scene was vivid on his mind. No dream had ever been like this — he had been there. Shaking his head, he thought, I'm either nuts or this is real. Oh fuck that, I know it's real.

Melissa had brought a washcloth and was wiping Jeff's face as he caught Diana's eye. "Call the Sheriff's Department. Ask them if anything is wrong with Joyce."

Diana stared at him as everyone froze.

"I think ... Hell, unless I'm completely round the bend, Joyce just got shot."

Helen tried to hug him. "Baby, maybe we need to wait a minute or two before we call. You had a terrible dream..."

Jeff tried to calm himself; took a deep breath and reached for the phone.

Diana grabbed it first. Looking at her husband, she quietly asked, "Are you sure?"

Jeff hesitated a moment before, "I'm sure."

Diana dialed 911.

After a weird conversation, Diana hung up. "Well, you heard. They won't tell me anything, but the dispatcher wanted to know how I knew. I could hear a lot of voices on the radio in the background. I couldn't understand everything they were saying since the dispatcher was talking to me at the same time, but I got the feeling they're all frantically going somewhere. Oh, Jeff, I'm scared."

Jeff tried to think. "This isn't doing us any good. They're not going to tell us anything ... Wait, deputy Goodman gave me his card. He said his cell and home phone numbers were written on the back. I didn't pay any attention to the numbers. I just put the card with the others on my desk."

He was out the bedroom door and headed for his office, clad only in a pair of shorts. Normally, he would have been nude, but since they hadn't made love due to him being upset, he hadn't taken the shorts off.

Diana glanced around her at the worried women. "We need to get dressed."

By the time Jeff got back, card in hand, they were pulling on jeans and tops.

"I'm going to try his cell first," Jeff said sitting back on the bed and putting action to words.

-------

Deputy Goodman had worked a day shift, then spent the afternoon and well into the evening helping his father remodel a bathroom at his parents' house. He had gotten home well after ten, tired. Having to be at work at 6:30 A.M. the next morning, he had showered and gone to bed. As his cell phone setting on the bedside table played the first few bars of the William Tell Overture (the old Lone Ranger theme), Goodman struggled to get enough coordination from his sleep-fogged brain to reach for the phone.

Slamming his hand down on the phone, he finally managed to open it. "Hello," he mumbled.

"Deputy Goodman?" a male voice asked.

"Uh, yeah, this is Goodman."

"This is Jeff Matthews. Look, I know this sounds crazy, but dispatch won't tell me anything. Please call and ask if, uh, deputy Cramer is all right."

"Why shouldn't she be okay? What's going on? Where are you?" he said even as he looked at his caller ID to verify that the call originated at the Matthew's residence.

When he realized that it was indeed the guy who donated the vests, he sat up, his mind clearing instantly.

"Please," Jeff quietly said. "Just call dispatch and make sure she's all right."

A chill went through Goodman's body as he stood, grabbed his radio off his gun belt that he had hung over a chair back. Turning the unit on, all he could hear was the faint hum of the carrier. Somebody has a mike keyed, he thought, changing to channel two. The sound of constant radio traffic filled the bedroom — frantic traffic as units told where they were and gave their ETAs. (Estimated Time of Arrival)

"Hang on a second," he tried to keep from yelling into his cell as he tossed it on the bed and grabbed his home phone.

Finally dispatch answered. "This is deputy Goodman. Is Cramer in trouble?"

The dispatcher, assuming that Goodman had heard part of the radio traffic, quickly told him what she knew and gave him the address.

"Oh, shit. That's only five minutes from me. I'm on my way in my personal vehicle," he yelled to dispatch, slamming the phone down and grabbing for his jeans.

Having slept in a tee-shirt and shorts, he yanked on his jeans, slung his gun belt around him, quickly fastening it. He clipped the lapel mike onto the neck of the tee-shirt, jammed his feet into his boots, and was reaching for his hat when he heard the cell phone squawking on the bed.

Grabbing the phone as he ran out of the room toward the front door, he said to Jeff, "All I know is that she had a hostage situation and there was gunfire, then a woman screaming for a long time. The location isn't far from my house ... uh, 1541 Dixon Road."

"For God's sake, keep me posted, please," Jeff almost shouted into the phone. "We're on our way."

Goodman almost told him not to come, but Jeff had already hung up.

By the time Jeff had hung up, Goodman was almost to his pickup. As soon as the engine started, he slammed the shift into reverse and backed into the road, slewing the truck around in a wild arc. In first, he slammed his foot to the floor as lights came on from the house next door. The old biddy will be calling headquarters again, bitching about me burning out of the yard. She'll have to complain tomorrow. I'll bet dispatch will hang up on her right now.

After turning onto the main road, he rolled his window down. Grabbing his blue light, he turned it on and reached out to slam it down on the roof, the magnetic lock attaching it firmly. But passing the brilliant strobe in front of his face as he reached out the window almost blinded him. Swerving, he brought his vehicle under control and once again put his foot to the floor.

The little engine wasn't designed for this much stress when it was new. Far from new now, he worried that his over-revving of the engine would destroy it before he could get to Joyce. Ahead, he was approaching a four-way stop with another car almost in the intersection. Amazingly the driver came to a full stop and blinked his lights. Damn, somebody sober and not on a cell phone at this time on a Saturday morning,  he thought as he roared straight through the intersection, his horn blaring.

He had tried twice to get on the radio, but the constant frantic chatter was blocking him. He keyed the mike three times in succession, repeated. He heard the more powerful transmitter at headquarters override everyone else and the dispatch sergeant yell for a clear channel.

In the quiet, he keyed his mike and said, "Unit 3314 turning onto Dixon Road. 10-7." (3314 was Goodman's ID and is used to identify an off-duty deputy. He just told them that he was on the scene.)

"Unit 3314, ambulance on the way. Your closest backup is still at least fifteen minutes away," dispatch snapped out as he slid to a halt in the yard.

He could see a huddled figure on the porch and hear a female sobbing. After scanning the yard with his flashlight, he ran in a crouch for the side of the porch. Easing onto the porch on his knees, he shook the sobbing woman. She jerked and opened her eyes.

"Where's deputy Cramer?" he quietly asked.

She just looked at him blankly.

When he asked again, she shook her head and loudly said, "I can barely hear."

Goodman gave up and eased to the screen door. Crouched, he snatched the screen door open and quick peeked inside, jerking his head back. Realizing that he had seen two people on the floor, he moved quickly into the room, his weapon ready in front of him.

Deputy Cramer lay sprawled on her side, the back of her head coated in blood, a pool of blood on the floor near, her hat sat soaking in it.

It had only taken a glance at the man to tell that he wasn't going to be a threat to anyone. He too lay on his side with a black hole where his right eye should be, gore splattered on the wall behind where he had apparently stood. The pool of blood he was lying in seemed to be a half inch deep.

Goodman's own heart racing, with clumsy fingers he felt for Joyce's pulse. A sigh escaped his lips as he felt a light, racing beat and at the same time saw her chest move slightly.

"Joyce, can you hear me?" Nothing.

Turning Cramer's radio off, he keyed his mike, "Unit 3314," he said trying to calm his voice.

"Unit 3314."

"Unit 3314. Deputy Cramer is alive, but appears to be seriously injured. Perp is dead. ETA on the ambulance?"

"Fifteen minutes at least. Sorry Goodman. It seems that everyone was on calls about as far away as they could be."

The lieutenant came on the radio with, "What are her injuries, Goodman?"

Goodman had already partially unbuttoned Cramer's shirt, having seen the hole in front. Oh, shit! Look at the size of that slug. Keying the mike, he answered while glancing at the revolver on the floor. "LT she's been shot with a large caliber handgun. It looks like a .44 Magnum from here, and the slug is big. The vest stopped the bullet. It's stuck in the Kevlar. But it hit her right over her heart. She's also got a big hole in the back of her head that I'm trying to put pressure on."

"211 to dispatch. Sergeant, get the helicopter started from Denver. My authority. We're not waiting for the paramedics to get there to call for it."

"10-4 Lieutenant," the dispatch sergeant said on the radio.

Someone else said something, but Goodman snapped, "I can't talk to you now. I'm trying to stop the blood."

There was a gaping hole just about where the brim of her hat would ride. Triangular shaped as best he could tell through her hair, and it was pouring blood. Seeing the amount already on the floor, he realized that he had to stop the bleeding, and he had to do it quickly.

How in the hell did she get a hole in the back of her head? She's been shot in the chest. Did the son-of-a-bitch shoot her twice? Trying to see the hole better, he noticed that the couch had a broken leg and was sitting on a concrete block. Seeing the smear of blood on the corner of the block, he realized what must have happened.

When that .44 hit her, she fell back and hit her head on the corner of that block. I've got to stop this blood,  he thought, but the hole was probably two inches across like someone had stuck the top of a pyramid-shape into the back of her head. His hands dripping blood, he realized that he was letting her die. Think you stupid fuck — think,  he admonished himself. I can't seem to get it stopped with my hand.

Suddenly a video he had seen in the academy almost slammed into his mind with its intensity. A cop had used a plastic label inside his police hat to put on a sucking chest wound. Snatching his hat off, heedless of his bloody hands, he looked inside. Shit. The cop's hat had a little panel about four inches square that slipped out. Mine has a plastic panel about the right size but it's stitched in.

But the stitches were just on the corners. He slipped two fingers under the four by four inch panel of thick, but pliable plastic, and yanked. Putting the panel over the wound, he pressed hard with one hand while holding Cramer's forehead with the other so that he could apply enough pressure.

Can't move her head or neck,  he kept telling himself, remembering his first aid class and having seen the paramedics put on cervical collars before moving a patient. Oh shit, Joyce. At least you killed the son-of-a-bitch. You two must have fired at the same time. But I want to shoot some more holes in the bastard. Don't you dare die on me. Oh shit, Baby, please wake up.

He wanted to get the vest off and check how much damage the bullet had done there, but he couldn't let go of his makeshift pressure bandage. Bellowing, he said, "Ma'am. I need you in here. Come help me with her."

Nothing happened. Desperate, he kicked on the door facing. "Ma'am, come help me!"

The screen door opened and the woman stood there, her face white, her body swaying. Oh, crap. She's about to fall out. "Ma'am, hold this against her head while I get her vest off."

Turcott stared uncomprehending at him for a moment, then looked at where Goodman had his hands. Glancing for a second at the dead man across the room, she suddenly dropped to her knees and allowed the deputy to guide her hands into position.

"Hold tight, but don't move her head. Understand?"

The woman had already put her hands into position — one pushing the plastic against the hole in Joyce's head, the other applying counter pressure against the deputy's forehead so that her head and neck didn't move. Goodman leaned close to her and almost shouting, repeated what he had said. Her face cleared and she said loudly, "Yes. I understand. Press tight, but don't let her head and neck move."

It was only then that Goodman saw the thin trace of blood coming from Turcott's right ear. No wonder. Ruptured eardrum. That asshole must have had that .44 next to her ear when he shot Cramer. No wonder she can't hear and is acting like she's going to pass out. No time to worry about that now,  he thought as he unbuckled Cramer's gun belt, finished the buttons on her shirt and opened the front of the soft body armor by pulling the Velcro tabs.

Laying the front panel aside, he hesitated for a second. Oh fuck, I hate to do this,  he admonished himself as he pulled her tee-shirt up to her breasts. At least I don't have to expose her breasts too much, and she has a bra on. His hands shook as he stared down at the angry red welt about four inches in diameter — the area and another couple of inches around it already swelling noticeably.

Crap. She's not a muscled up guy that can take punishment like this. There's nothing there but a little flesh over her sternum.

Remembering how close to death the other deputy had come when he had been shot in the chest right over his heart, his vest not having a trauma plate, Goodman knew that Cramer would be dead now without this top-of-the-line vest and trauma plate that Mr. Matthews had insisted that the sheriff buy.

Seeing the swelling of her chest, he wondered if even that vest had been enough for his friend to survive. In the distance, he could hear the scream of approaching sirens as Joyce's ragged breathing continued, and Turcott's tears mingled with Joyce's blood.



-------

Chapter 70

SEPTEMBER 21 — EARLY MORNING

The phone jarred him from a sound sleep. Glancing at the caller ID as he quickly sat up hoping to answer before the ringing awakened his wife, Sheriff Tate grabbed the phone.

"Tate," he answered with a sinking feeling. Lieutenant Waldrop (the night shift commander) handled any problems on the night shift, seldom asking for guidance. He made his own decisions and they were usually good ones, consequently, the department never called at night unless there was a homicide — calling Tate was standard procedure so that the sheriff wouldn't be blindsided by the news media when he came to work the next morning.

A short conversation with dispatch, and Tate was hurriedly pulling his uniform on.

Tate sighed and looked toward his sleepy wife, the bedside lamp now on. "Looks like I've got a deputy shot. This was Cramer's first shift on her new assignment."

"Maybe it's not bad," his wife said, sitting up.

"I hope you're right," Tate answered sitting down on the bed to put on his boots. "But she had an open mike for several minutes prior to the shot. Then nothing but a woman screaming in the background. Dispatch is certain that the screaming was the complainant. Everybody is practically on the other side of the county, but Goodman lives fairly close. Somehow he heard and is on his way in his private vehicle. We should know something soon."

His wife slid over to the side of the bed. "Quinton, don't you go out there and take risks tonight. You come back to me, and I don't mean in a box. I know how you are. If that deputy has been shot, you'll go after whoever did it. I can't live without you," she finished, tears sparkling her eyes.

Tate slid a little closer and hugged his wife for a moment. "I'm not going to get my ass killed, but you know that nobody is going to shoot one of my deputies and get away with it. If I can find him, he'll be in jail or the coroner's."

Kissing her quickly, he stood. "I've got to run. Wait about an hour and call dispatch. Things should be calmed down a little and we should know more. Marlene can fill you in on the details."

Standing at the living room window a couple of minutes later, she watched the flashing lights of her husband's patrol car grow fainter with distance. Time to fix a pot of coffee. As soon as she found out what was going on she would make her decisions. She didn't know if Cramer was married or not. If it had been one of the male deputies shot, she would soon be on the phone calling deputies' wives to get a support group together. What did she do about this?

-------

Goodman gave up and answered the insistent ringing of his cell phone, even as he continued to hover over Cramer making sure that Turcott maintained pressure as he monitored his friend's shallow breathing, hoping he wouldn't have to start CPR.

"Goodman," he growled.

"This is Diana Matthews. Can you tell us anything?"

Trying to keep from snapping at her, he said, "She's been shot in the chest with a .44 Magnum. The vest stopped the bullet like it was supposed to, but there's a big place right over her heart. She fell and hit her head on a concrete block. She's unconscious. The helicopter is coming to carry her to the trauma center in Denver."

"Caitlin is with us," Diana quickly got in, afraid he would hang up before she could tell him.

"All right. I've got to go. Meet you in Denver. The paramedics are coming in now." He snapped the phone closed with a bloody hand, the conversation already forgotten.

The two paramedics came through the door like gangbusters. "What have we got?" Crosby said glancing across the room at the obviously dead man before totally focusing on Deputy Cramer.

Goodman quickly told what he thought had happened as Crosby set his case down, put his stethoscope to his ears and began listening to her heart.

After a moment, he turned to Turcott and gently moved her hand away from the makeshift pressure bandage. "Oh crap," Crosby said as there was a gush of blood. Quickly pressing the plastic back against Cramer's skull, he motioned for Turcott to move as the other paramedic handed him a gauze roll and several four by four inch gauze pads from the kit.

"I'm going to leave what they've started," Crosby said to his buddy. "There's a big hole under that plastic." Quickly, Crosby put the gauze pads over the plastic, then put the big gauze roll on top of them for leverage. The two paramedics designed and applied their pressure bandage.

"Ringers or NS?" Neuman asked as he knelt by Cramer trying to find a vein.

"Let's go with Normal Saline," Crosby answered. "Usually I would say LR (Lactated Ringers) because of the trauma, but we'll have to go with NS in this case since she'll get blood as soon as she gets on the copter, and LR isn't compatible."

As Crosby grabbed the Normal Saline IV, Neumann said, "Shine that MagLite on her arm for me, Goodman. I can't see a vein."

"Why can't you see a vein? She's young. I thought it was just old folks that didn't have good veins," Goodman said shining the light on Cramer's arm.

"Move the flashlight closer, almost against the skin."

Goodman rotated the lens ring changing to a narrow focus on the one hundred thousand candlepower light.

A moment later Neumann saw the trace of a vein under the powerful beam, "There's one," he exclaimed. "Hold the light right there," he finished, running a fingertip up and down the barely-visible vein, slapping her arm over the vein a few times.

Quickly he slid the catheter into the vein. "Yeah. I've got flash. Now if it will just thread." A moment later, "Yeah, got it. We're good to go. We need to get some fluid in her."

"Sometimes it's hard to find a vein when someone has bled a lot," he said, absently as he secured the catheter with Tegaderm. Then, "Take that roll of tape in the top tray and tear me several strips about four inches long," he continued as he attached the IV line to the catheter and turned it wide open.

As Goodman handed him the strips of tape, Neumann put them over the Tegaderm. "I'm going to make sure this baby isn't going anywhere. That vein was too hard to find."

"Here, hold this," Neumann said, handing the IV bag to Goodman. "Just..."

"I know," Goodman interrupted. "I've done it before."

While they had been working on the IV, Crosby had put a cervical collar on Cramer. "We need to get this vest off," he said pulling out his scissors.

"Wait," Goodman said, handing the IV to Neumann. "You guys and those damned scissors. Here, look," he said, pulling the rest of the Velcro tabs and sliding the vest away from Cramer. "The department is going to want that vest for evidence, and eventually Cramer will have it for a keepsake. Besides this is a lot quicker than trying to cut that Kevlar." With the remaining panel of the vest out of the way, Goodman took back the IV bag. He had to admit that the scissors were sharp though, because they quickly destroyed Joyce's tee-shirt and bra. But none of the men were interested in Joyce's assets just then.

They quickly put a bandage over the welt on Cramer's chest while Goodman wondered why they bothered.

"We've got to rock," Cosby said snapping his kit closed and moving it out of the way. "The copter is going to be at the school before us if we don't hurry."

Turning to Goodman, Cosby asked, "The field beside the school parking lot is the best bet, isn't it?"

Goodman thought for a second. "Yeah, it's one of our designated evac spots. I think that the only wires are on the side next to the parking lot."

"Well, your dispatch told me that they had given that to the pilot. Supposed to be number 318 on the county emergency evac sheet."

Goodman backed up pushing the screen door partially open with his body. Holding the IV up as he made room for the paramedics to get Cramer onto the stretcher, he bumped into someone.

"Take the IV Robertson," the sheriff said as he took the bag from Goodman and handed it to another deputy.

"Give your keys to Iverson," the sheriff said, motioning to another deputy that had just come running up.

"Iverson, get someone to go with you and get Goodman's truck home. Leave the keys in dispatch."

"Yes, Sir," the deputy said as he accepted Goodman's keys.

"Go easy on her," Goodman said. "I think I almost slung a rod over-revving that old engine. She was knocking by the time I got here."

Goodman and the sheriff moved out of the way on the porch as the two paramedics hurried past carrying Cramer to the ambulance. Two more paramedics arrived. After conferring briefly with the first two, they ran up to the porch with another stretcher for Turcott who had sat on the porch floor. As she leaned forward holding her face in her hands, one of the paramedics gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"We think you need to get checked out, Ma'am."

Turcott looked blankly at him and motioned to her ear. The paramedic repeated himself, louder.

"Ma'am, we think you have a concussion and a ruptured ear drum. Come on. Go with us and let's get you some medical help."

A little more coaxing, and they were strapping her into the stretcher.

Not hearing what the paramedics said, Tate asked Goodman, "What's wrong with her?"

"She's got blood coming out of her right ear from that .44 going off by her head. One of the paramedics said she was in shock and probably had a concussion. She helped me with the pressure bandage, but there was a time or two when I thought she was going to faint."

The sheriff turned to look for someone and almost bumped into the patrol sergeant.

"I'll see she gets taken good care of, Sheriff. You guys go on. The lieutenant has already called the captain and he's getting some people from day shift to help out. LT also told the dispatch sergeant to answer only emergency calls until everything is settled down. We'll catch up with the report calls later, or the day shift can do it."

Tate didn't argue with him, just agreed and turned to Goodman. "Come on, you're with me," the sheriff said picking up the paramedic's case to save him a trip back to the porch after he put Joyce into the ambulance.

Crosby nodded his thanks as Tate set the case in the back of the ambulance. They heard the paramedic say into his phone, obviously talking to the doctor aboard the helicopter: "Pulse about 160 and erratic, pressure 76 over 42, blunt trauma to her chest directly over her heart from being hit on her bullet-proof vest with a large caliber handgun round. Round did not penetrate. Massive loss of blood from a wound to the back of her head caused from falling and hitting her head on the corner of a concrete block..."

Neumann closed the door on the back of the ambulance cutting off Crosby's voice, then ran to the driver's door.

-------

Five minutes later, the ambulance barely beat the helicopter to the school. Knowing the routine, the deputies used four patrol cars with their emergency lights flashing to form a big square away from power lines and obstacles. Although the helicopter pilot usually circled checking with his spotlight for wires, he barely hesitated this time.

Cramer was soon transferred to the copter. The paramedics and the doctor and nurse conferred briefly before the door was closed. The paramedics sprinted away and the engine revved. As the chopper lifted and glided away in the darkness, its giant light shining downward, Goodman felt the energy seemingly drain from his body.

On board, the nurse had already attached a unit of O negative (O negative is the universal donor blood type) blood and was manually squeezing the IV pump pushing the life-giving fluid into Cramer's vein as fast as was possible.

Everyone involved, Goodman, the paramedics and the helicopter crew had done and were doing everything they possibly could to give Cramer basic life support and to get her to a trauma unit within her golden hour — and they were skating close to the edge. (Golden hour: In cases of severe trauma, the best bet for patient survival is the specialists who are most often found at a trauma unit. Complications such as shock may occur if the patient is not managed appropriately and expeditiously. Because some injuries can cause a trauma victim to decompensate extremely rapidly, the lag time between injury and treatment should ideally be kept to a bare minimum; over time, this lag time has been further clarified to a now-standard time frame of no more than 60 minutes, after which time the survival rate for traumatic patients is alleged to fall off dramatically.)

As the helicopter's light was lost in the darkness Tate slapped Goodman on the shoulder. "Let's go," he said, turning to jog toward his patrol car, Goodman close behind.

Buckled in, Goodman tried to clear his mind as the sheriff hit the lights and siren — and the accelerator.

Tate snatched the microphone from its mount. "200."

"200," dispatch answered.

"200. Deputy Goodman and I are 10-73 to Denver. He will be relaying for me." With that he tossed the microphone to Goodman.

"10-4, 200," dispatch acknowledged.

"There are some Handy Wipes in the glove compartment. You might want to wipe some of that blood off your face and hands," Tate said as he braked for a curve before slamming the accelerator down again.

Goodman turned the map light to shine on his blood-caked hands. Appalled, he stared at them for a moment.

"She'll make it," Tate said, sensing what Goodman was thinking. "Thanks to you. But she wouldn't have if you hadn't gotten there when you did."

"I wouldn't have even known about it without the call from the Matthews," he sighed opening the glove compartment.

It wasn't long before Goodman knew exactly why Tate didn't want to talk on the radio. Goodman didn't want the sheriff to take his concentration off the road, either. Winter Park was soon behind them and they were climbing the mountain on the way to the interstate.

Goodman sat up straighter as he saw a vehicle ahead of them with its emergency flashers on. They were gaining on it, but it was obvious that the big SUV was moving. "That's probably the Matthews," he told the sheriff.

"Matthews?" Tate asked. "And what was that remark about a phone call?"

"Yeah, the folks that gave the money for our vests. And before you ask, I have no idea. But I talked to them a few minutes ago and they said that they had Caitlin — uh, Cramer's friend/sister with them. Mr. Matthews was the one that called and asked if I would check on Joyce. He was at his house according to the caller ID, but I have no idea how he knew that she was in trouble. But he probably cut at least twenty minutes off our response time. Dispatch told me that everyone was way out of pocket."

"So dispatch didn't call you, and you didn't hear it on the radio?"

"Nope. The first I knew was when Mr. Matthews called me on my cell. I left my numbers with him when Joyce and I thanked him for the vests."

As Tate tried to process the information, they came to a wide place in the road and the Escalade ahead of them suddenly swerved aside with perfect timing to let them pass safely on the mountain road.

"This doesn't make sense," the sheriff said as he beeped his horn twice in acknowledgement of Matthews moving over so quickly. "How could they know that something bad was happening to Cramer? Hell, from listening to the tape, Cramer didn't know it was going to happen until it was suddenly upon her. It was just a routine report call. And she damn sure wasn't talking on the phone when it went down. Dispatch played it for me as I was driving out. We're missing something."

"Search me, Sheriff. All I know is that Mr. Matthews called me and said that dispatch wouldn't tell him anything, and asked me to check. He was almost frantic."

Goodman's tension slowly dissipated as he watched Tate saving his brakes as much as he could, swinging wide at the beginning of the curves, then crossing close to the inside at the center, then winding up back on the outside. I could learn something from this guy. Well, if he doesn't kill me in the process.

They were soon on the interstate, and Goodman felt more relief. The curves were certainly a lot more gentle than the twisting mountain road. But then he got to find out what the sheriff's Crown Vic really would do. Oh, shit. We're way outrunning our lights. We can't see far enough ahead of us. If there's some fool driving down the interstate without his lights we'll never be able to slow down in time.

Then far ahead on a straightaway, they saw the emergency lights of another patrol car. They didn't appear to be gaining.

Despite what the sheriff had said, he snatched the mike from Goodman. "200 to 211."

"211."

"211. Turn your shift over to your sergeant and go ahead and go to the hospital if you want."

"211. 10-4. Thank you Sheriff."

Tate tossed the mike back to Goodman and concentrated on driving.

"Uh, what..." Goodman started.

"Simple. Her shift commander is leaving his county. That's got to be him ahead of us. Leaving the county while he's in charge of the shift is a big no-no. So I might as well fix that so he's not breaking any rules. He's obviously already doing what I just told him to do. I should already have done that. The patrol sergeant is entirely capable of taking care of things while Waldrop is gone. And I wouldn't expect the lieutenant to not go and be with his deputy."

Right then, Sheriff Tate went up several notches in Goodman's book.

They started down a long straight hill. Goodman glanced at the speedometer then quickly looked away.

A deep voice said on TAC 2, "142," as they flashed by the trooper sitting on the side of the road halfway down the hill.

"Give me the mike," the sheriff said fumbling for it and putting his hand dangerously close to Goodman's groin.

Goodman hastily put the mike in Tate's hand.

"We have some family members coming behind us in an Escalade..."

The deep voice chuckled on the radio. "I'm buried in paperwork. Much too busy to be writing tickets this time of night," he lied. Then, "If you have communication with them, tell them to put the hammer down. I heard about your deputy. We'll all be thinking about her."

"Thanks," Tate replied tossing the mike back to Goodman.

A few minutes later, with a trace of humor behind the same deep voice, "He's dragging along at a hundred and twelve."

Goodman clicked the mike twice to acknowledge as the Crown Vic roared on.

-------

At the heliport, two trauma nurses, a trauma doctor and two Denver cops waited. As the helicopter angled in coming at high speed, one of the cops said, "Oh, shit. He's coming hard."

The helicopter flared at the last moment, then set down in a rush, the noise of the straining engine and the rotors deafening.

Everybody ducked and took off at a run for the copter, the wind of the still rotating blades buffeting them.

The cops' help was totally superfluous — they knew it, the doctors knew it and the nurses knew it, but they "helped" anyway. As soon as the stretcher was on the concrete, wheels locked down, the cops set out to push it as the others ran alongside.

"She's tachy and irregular — 140s to 160s. 80s over 40s, suspected myocardial contusion, blow to the head with high blood loss," the helicopter nurse yelled to the others as they dashed for the building. (Tachy: tachycardia — rapid heartbeat. The second set of numbers refers to blood pressure. A good blood pressure would be in the area of 115 over 70. Myocardial contusion — basically bruising to the heart muscle which can cause fluid buildup in the pericardial sac as well as abnormal heart movement and "stunning" of the heart muscle) "Paramedic said she regained consciousness for about a minute in the ambulance, but she's been unresponsive during the trip here. We hung a unit of O negative. Pupils are..."

The medical team continued to confer as the nurses opened doors and helped on corners while the cops pushed Joyce's stretcher as fast as they could.

A few moments later the two cops came back out of the trauma unit. "We were a lot of help — not." One cop said to the other.

"Hell, we tried. We might have even saved them thirty seconds," he chuckled. "But did you catch what that nurse told the other one about the pilot?"

"Yeah. She said a hot landing like that was against the hospital rules, and it was the administrator's special little soapbox. She said the pilot got a reprimand last month for doing it when there was a child in bad shape on the copter. She said he might even get fired over this one."

"So, he's bringing in a deputy in really bad shape, trying to get her to the trauma unit before she dies, and the administrator is pissed because of the extra noise and supposed danger?"

"You got it."

"How in the hell would he know about it? I'll bet his ass is at home asleep?"

"She said that he has a stool pigeon that always tells."

"Well, that pilot is not going to get fired if I can fucking help it," he muttered. Pulling out his cell, he started dialing. "I'm going to get the LT into this — he'll get the captain or the chief onto it. Maybe we can bite this in the butt before it gets too far. I'll bet that sheriff will be here pretty soon. He'll want to know about this, too."

He turned away as he said over the phone, "LT. This is Jacobs. I've got a little problem..."

-------

The ride in had been stressful to say the least. Jeff had pushed the envelope on the curves as they crossed the mountain, but forced himself to hold the wallowing vehicle's speed down knowing how vulnerable it was to a rollover. On the interstate, the urge to push the accelerator to the floor and hold it there gnawed at him, but he didn't have the emergency lights and siren that the sheriff did, and the big SUV wasn't as stable at high speeds as the patrol car.

When they passed the State Trooper car on the hill, they all cringed, but nothing happened. Jeff smiled, knowing what had probably transpired.

Caitlin was beside herself, and that didn't help matters a bit, although both Jeff and Diana could understand because they felt that way themselves.

"Caitlin, Baby, you know that it's going to be hurry up and wait. When we get there, she will be in for tests or in surgery or something. They won't let us see her, and that's a problem we need to address..."

"The hell they won't. I'm an intensive care nurse. That's my hospital. I brought my badge," she said waving her ID picture/badge. "It'll get me anywhere in that hospital. I'll find out what's going on."

"If you go in there really excited, they'll..." Diana tried to say.

"Oh, I'm upset," Caitlin snapped, "but I'm not going to act like a bitch." Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. "Okay, you're right. But it's just the frustration of not being able to be there. Once I'm in my own environment, I'll calm down. But I will go where Joyce goes. There are some excellent doctors there, and some idiots."

From the passenger seat, Diana glanced at Jeff, but his eyes were glued to the dark interstate in front of them.

"Look, I can have my say about what doctors she gets. And trust me, a nurse knows who are the good doctors and who are the idiots. When Joyce started her career we both signed Medical Power of Attorney documents prepared by a lawyer. In case something happens to either of us, the other can make any medical decisions needed. If they stick her with some idiot, I'll run his ass off and get one of the good ones. We both have the papers on file at the hospital."

Ahead a car was in the left lane only going about sixty. Jeff flashed by in the right lane without letting up, praying that the driver wouldn't decide to change lanes at the last moment. As they neared Denver, the traffic picked up and he was forced to slow time and again. For at least the fifth time, he swerved to the right and passed in the emergency lane.

Caitlin cursed in the second seat every time he was forced to slow. Once he was boxed in by trucks. As Jeff finally managed to squeeze by them, Caitlin shot a bird to the trucker who refused to move over.

A few minutes before the hospital was in sight, Jeff said, "I've got to get to her, Caitlin. If I can manage to be alone with her, she will survive."

"What? What are you talking about ... There will be doctors and nurses everywhere. Everybody will be working on her. They don't need you..."

"Trust me, Caitlin!" Jeff bellowed. "I can save her. I will save her! I need to be alone with her. I know this sounds crazy, but you will understand later. I need you to do what you can to help me to be alone with her."

Caitlin and Joyce had discussed having felt Jeff's love for them, but this was different. Saying that she could feel Jeff's will was like watching a tornado approach and saying it was a little cloudy today. She found herself trying to devise ways of getting Jeff alone with Joyce.

"I ... I'll try. Once she's in an intensive care unit and things settle down a little, I can get you in. They'll probably run a catheter from her leg into her heart to check for damage. They will also do a CAT scan of her brain because of the head injury. I don't know enough right now to tell you much. I'm just guessing. As soon as I get there, I'll go to the trauma unit and find out what's going on. I promise that I'll get you to her as soon as I can..."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry I yelled, but promise me this. If you find out that she's dying you will get me right then. Right then! I don't give a shit how many people are around her. I can save her, Caitlin! That you have got to understand."

Stunned at the force of Jeff's emotions, Caitlin sat mute as Diana in the front seat turned toward her. "He's telling the truth. Remember what he said and trust him. Trust us. You will absolutely not regret it."

"I will," Caitlin heard herself say. Then stronger, "You can count on it. I'll find a way to get you alone with her." Logically, she knew there was little chance that he could help, but feeling Jeff's emotions wash over her, and those emotions fairly screaming his confidence that he could heal Joyce no matter what was wrong, something changed inside Caitlin. Suddenly realizing how young Diana really looked — how young Laura and Helen were as well, plus Jeb's miraculous recovery, some part of her — some part deep down inside her psyche — began to believe, to really believe. She started to plan.



-------

Chapter 71

A few blocks from the hospital, two Denver patrol cars screamed past them to block a busy intersection ahead. The officers quickly got out of their cars to direct the Matthews on through the red light, while holding traffic back from the other directions.

"But how do they know?" Diana asked as she waved a thank you at the cop on her side.

"Probably the same reason that trooper that was sitting on the side of the interstate didn't come after us. I suspect that Goodman or the sheriff told them we were coming."

"But my gosh, this is Denver," Diana continued.

"Probably by now every on-duty cop in the state knows that a deputy has been seriously injured. They would have put it on the NCIC computer with attention to all departments in a designated area. I suspect that Goodman has long since realized that our call gave him a head start toward helping Joyce..."

Jeff's voice trailed off as they neared another big intersection where two more Denver units had already blocked cross traffic and were waiting. As Jeff eased carefully through against the light with the cops waving him on, a young man tried to sneak a right turn behind the cop. Jeff swerved and went on. One of the cops, a hefty woman, yelled at the teenager and went stalking over to him.

"Oh, crap. I hope she doesn't give him a ticket," Jeff quietly said as he cleared the intersection and accelerated hard.

Diana, who continued to look to the rear, said, "Looks like she just chewed him out and sent him on his way."

After a moment's pause, "What are we going to tell these people when they start asking how we knew that Joyce was in trouble?" Diana said, looking worriedly at her husband.

"I expect that the sheriff and his investigators are going to hit us with that question in the near future," Jeff sighed.

"How did you know?" Caitlin broke in. "I asked you how you found out, but you never did give me an answer."

Jeff and Diana glanced at each other. At Jeff's slight nod, Diana said, "Jeff woke up screaming. He was covered in sweat and holding his chest. He told us that Joyce had been shot."

"Oh, crap. You're asking me to believe that Jeff's a psychic?" Caitlin said, incredulously.

"I'm not asking you to believe anything," Diana snapped, the stress getting to her. She wasn't in the mood for Caitlin's disbelief.

"Di," Jeff said quietly. "She doesn't know anything about our situation. Hell, it's a hard lump for me to swallow right now." Glancing in the mirror at Caitlin, Jeff continued, "Let's just leave it for now. If anyone asks you, please just try to avoid the question, or say something about not being sure. The only ones we have to answer to are the sheriff and his people. We'll work through the problem later. Right now, we just need to concentrate on getting me in to see Joyce with a little privacy."

Soon, they were approaching the hospital. There seemed to be patrol cars parked everywhere. Two TV vans were parked close to the hospital, but the crews were apparently inside the building. As Jeff started to turn in, a Denver cop motioned for Jeff to roll down his window.

"Sir, just pull straight up to the door where you see the sergeant standing," the cop said, pointing, "and leave your keys in the vehicle. We'll park it and bring your keys to you."

"We're going to leave our weapons under the seats..." Jeff started.

"I'll make sure your vehicle is secure and keep watch on it. If there's no one to relieve me when I have to go, I'll make sure that hospital security knows it's your vehicle. Nothing will happen to it or your weapons. Latest thing I heard is that your wife is in the CATH lab for tests."

"Thanks," Jeff answered as he headed the Escalade toward the sergeant. I wonder how that got started? I'm not going to lie about it if asked straight out, but I'm not going to correct anyone, either. It just might help me get to her.

Just before Jeff was completely stopped, Caitlin pushed her door open, jumped out and sprinted for the door.

As Jeff and Diana hastily got out leaving the motor running, a black sergeant, his muscular arms straining the shirt sleeves of his immaculate uniform, glanced toward the retreating Caitlin.

"She's a nurse here in CICU, (Cardiac Intensive Care Unit) and Joyce's sister," Jeff said, pushing the point a little.

"Yessir. This way, Sir. I've just been told that your wife was asking for you, and I suppose, her sister. Anyway, they said she woke up for a few minutes and was asking for Jeff and Caitlin, if I said the name right."

As the sergeant, Jeff and Diana went through the metal detector, it screeched out its warning, but the sergeant didn't slow and the security guard waved them on.

"Sir and Ma'am," Sergeant Patterson continued as they stopped in front of an elevator, "the hospital has opened a private waiting room. I don't know whether they're just being nice, or are afraid that so many of us will disturb the normal visitors, but it's a nice area, anyway."

In the elevator, he continued, "We know several of the nurses here and they're going to keep us posted. My girlfriend is one of the trauma nurses. One of the other guys is dating a neuro nurse, and Mac's wife works on six west. They said that your wife was really asking for you, so as soon as she gets back from whatever tests they're doing, we'll get you in to see her, at least for a minute or two."

As Diana noted the size of the sergeant, she doubted that few people would tell him no if he were really determined to do something.

As Patterson ushered them into the waiting room, several cops jumped to their feet and insisted that Jeff and Diana take their seats. The waiting room receptionist soon provided them coffee. Patterson asked if he could get them something to eat, saying that there was any number of cops who would be more than pleased to go anywhere in Denver to get them food.

"Thanks, but we're fine," Diana said as Jeff again looked toward the door to see who was coming in.

A couple of seconds later, Goodman walked in wearing bloody jeans and a white tee-shirt covered in blood. His hat bore a bloody handprint where he had taken it off to get the plastic liner inside it. Even his gun belt had blood on it.

Jeff's insides felt as if they would tear their way out of his body when he realized that the blood was Joyce's, and how much she would have had to lose for it to saturate Goodman's shirt.

Sheriff Tate was with Goodman, trailed a moment later by the shift lieutenant.

"Mr. and Mrs. Matthews, I hate that we have to meet again, under these circumstances," Tate said putting out his hand.

"Do you know anything?" Jeff asked, hardly giving Tate time to finish his sentence, unconsciously gripping Tate's hand hard enough to make him wince.

"Not a lot," Tate said, but..."

"Caitlin," Goodman supplied the name for the sheriff.

"Uh, Caitlin is with her. She seems like a real take-charge young lady. She told us she was off duty, plus hospital rules prevented her from taking active part in Deputy Cramer's care, (She couldn't be involved in the treatment of a family member) but she would remain with her and would keep us posted. We know that they have been running tests on her heart and brain. They told us she had bruising to her heart, a concussion and of course the blood loss, in addition to the shock her body has undergone. Well, actually the doctors haven't told us anything; that came from Caitlin and one of the nurses."

Time dragged on. Twice a nurse came in to tell them where deputy Cramer was at the moment and what was happening. Looking to Jeff, the nurse said, "Your wife woke up for just a little bit again. And once more asked for you and Caitlin. When Caitlin took her hand, she smiled at her, then drifted back off. The charge nurse in the cardiac unit told me to tell you that she would let you see your wife for a few minutes when they had her in the unit and had assessed her."

Jeff thanked her and then surprised the nurse by hugging her.

-------

Many miles away on the mountain, Arlene had awakened everyone not already up as soon as her dad, mother and Caitlin had left so hurriedly. Arlene had received phone calls from Diana telling them what was going on and updating them on what little they knew about Joyce's condition.

Someone had turned the yard lights on. Arlene stood in the living room staring blankly out the glass wall at the light snowfall, but noticing little of it. The others sat about the room in little groups in various stages of dress. Jennie, Melissa, Linda and Kathy had warmed sweet rolls, bringing them, coffee and orange juice to the others. Some ate absently, while others had touched nothing. Worry was the only thing they all had in common.

Turning from the window, Arlene looked about the room for a moment, then extended her right hand to Laura. As Laura took it, Arlene led her to Ann who quickly latched on. Helen, who was sitting nearby stood as Ann extended her hand. By then, all eyes tracked them. Ann put her free hand to Melissa and she quickly extended her other hand to Jennie. Continuing, Arlene led the chain around the area. Frank and Margaret latched on, then the Hinson's with Linda. Madison and Kathy quickly stood. Jeb and Annie finished the chain.

Arlene led them all back to a large area that she had cleared before the window. Reaching over to grasp Annie's free hand, the circle was complete. No one had said a word. Arlene spent a moment as she caught everyone's eye.

Clearing her throat, her voice hesitant at first, then growing strong, Arlene began. "I'm certain that each of us has prayed tonight — or rather — this morning, but there is still something that we can do as a group."

With that, she slowly knelt, followed quickly by the others, everyone still holding hands. "I'm certainly no authority, but I seem to remember that He said — and I'm paraphrasing — that if even two or three of us were gathered together in His name, that he would be there, also."

Looking about her again, she continued, "When your time comes in the circle, you may pray aloud, silently, or none at all, as you choose. When you are finished, or if you wish to pass, just squeeze the hand of the next person."

Bowing her head, she quietly said as if she were discussing something with someone in the room, "Father, we feel helpless as our sister fights for her life. We don't know much about what's going on, but we do know that if Joyce needed a helicopter and a trauma unit, then it has to be bad. We've only known her for a little while, but we love her as our own. We know that you are the Great Physician and that all things are possible through you. We know what Dad's intentions must be, and we ask you to help him accomplish his mission this morning. We ask that you touch our sister, and bring her back to us. For this and all our blessings, we will be careful to give you the praise..."

After a moment, Arlene squeezed Laura's hand. As she started, Jeb and Annie both thought about how they had been healed, suspecting that Arlene's reference to Jeff's mission carried a hidden meaning.

Some stumbled, others acted as if they had done this all their lives, but all took their turn, amazing Arlene. When everyone was done, Arlene finished the circle prayer, her tears streaming down her cheeks — and she wasn't alone in that.

-------

Later, Caitlin came into the waiting room at the hospital. As everyone gathered around her, she spoke to Jeff. "I told the doctors that it would be okay to talk to the news media about her condition, if it were all right with you, Jeff."

"Uh, yeah, sure," he answered.

A nurse that had accompanied Caitlin left to tell the doctor.

"How is she?" Jeff nervously asked, wondering why Caitlin was waiting for his permission for anything, but realizing that her action had just cemented everyone's belief that he was Joyce's husband. Suddenly his mind caught up. She made the doctor wait for permission from Joyce's "husband" so that she could get me in to see Joyce sooner. Thank you, my darling Caitlin.

By now, all the cops gathered around. Diana slipped her arm around Jeff's waist.

Caitlin looked up at Jeff as she stood before him. "From what the doctors have told me and what I can see for myself from the test and observing Joyce, she is in an extremely serious condition. They ran a catheter up from her thigh into her heart, and although they didn't find any tearing of the blood vessels, her heart has obviously been traumatized, perhaps severely."

Caitlin took a deep breath as she fought back tears. "Her heart," she choked out, "is swelling. Her whole chest on that side is swelling. The doctors say that her heart muscles were 'stunned' by the blow. Just as if you received a hard blow to your bicep, your arm would not work properly for a while. But this was far worse than just a blow to stun your bicep muscle. The heart has to keep beating regardless of its trauma.

"Although there aren't any ribs broken, there are hairline fractures to ribs and sternum ... and there may be something equally as bad as the trauma to her heart." Obviously trying to keep from breaking down, Caitlin paused for a moment. "There is a small spot on her brain, and she has a fractured skull."

"Small spot? What caused the spot? What does a spot mean?" Jeff interrupted.

Caitlin reached over and grasped his arm. "It probably means that a small vessel in her brain was torn when she hit her head so hard. The spot is blood. The CAT scan shows it as a white area near the skull. She hit the back of her head, but the spot is actually on the front." Before Jeff could ask, she continued, "Many times when there is a blow to the head, the brain bounces off the primary impact surface then impacts the opposite side of the skull. It's called coup-contrecoup. Sometimes the injury to the brain can actually be worse from the second impact against the skull."

Jeff, almost frantic, said, "Does that mean that they're going to operate on her brain? What do they do? Will the spot just go away?"

"It might," Caitlin sighed. "It's too soon to tell. The spot isn't big. The vessel probably sealed. If it doesn't start leaking again ... Oh, it's too soon to tell. I don't have any gripes with the doctors. They're doing what they're supposed to do. They're doing everything they can. They're also monitoring the pressure in Joyce's brain. She's on the way to CICU. (Cardiac Intensive Care Unit) They didn't have any beds in Neuro. Not that it makes any difference since she has heart problems as well. The tests are done for now. Now we wait and see."

Caitlin hesitated a moment, then picking up her thread of thought, "Both the cardiologist and the neurosurgeon have agreed that she should be kept under basal living conditions."

"What the crap is that?" Jeff said, obviously having little patience left.

"Easy Jeff," Diana whispered into his ear.

Jeff tried to calm himself as Caitlin continued, "It simply means that her room — her intensive care room — will have very low light, no disturbances of any kind, no one trying to wake her or ask how she is feeling. No talking to her, no movement, nothing. In other words very low brain stimulus. It allows the trauma to subside and gives the brain a better chance to heal. It also allows the heart to rest as much as possible. Even the nurse will not enter her unit any more than is absolutely necessary."

Seeing that Jeff was going to ask, she quickly continued, "Oh, she's thoroughly monitored both in the room and at the desk. In an intensive care unit, the nurse only has to glance at her monitors at the desk to see everything that is going on in the room.

"Look, Jeff, the intensive care unit is laid out like a big rectangle with rounded corners. The rooms are on the outside of the rectangle and the two nursing stations are located on the inside. There are eighteen 'rooms' in the unit. They all have glass fronts with curtains that can be pulled across for privacy. Joyce's room is right next to one of the nursing stations. The nurse can see Joyce from twenty feet away without leaving the station. Of course with the basal conditions, the curtain will be pulled and the lights will be off. The nurse will still be in and out, but she will limit it as much as possible.

"Both doctors want Joyce to remain calm with as little movement and interaction as is humanly possible, particularly for the next twenty-four hours. She is being given IV medications, but some of the medication that could be given is contraindicated for her heart and vice versa for her brain. In other words, medication for her heart may not be the best thing for her brain right now."

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispered.

"But there is one small plus," Caitlin quietly said as she looked into Jeff's eyes. "Joyce has awakened several times for a moment or two and she has been frantically asking for the two of us. Although, since this is my hospital the charge nurse will certainly let me in to see her as I have already done. The doctors have said that you and I can both sit with her, but they were both vehement that we should not speak with her other than to calm her if she awakens. Both of these guys are sharp, and although one is a neurosurgeon — probably the profession with the worst God complex on Earth — both doctors are generally pretty laid back, well ... the neurosurgeon can sometimes be a little full of himself, but the cardiologist has always treated me with respect.

"We're going to get a lecture from both of them, but they will let us sit with her."

There were too many people around for Jeff to pick Caitlin up and dance around the room with her, but he tried to send his thanks to her, anyway.

"I'll be back as soon as she's in her room and settled. As a new patient comes into a unit, the nurse has a lot of things to do, but when she's done, I'll come back and get you."

As Caitlin quickly walked away, Jeff had to force back tears of relief. He could be with Joyce without causing a scene that would expose the healer. Hold on Baby. I'll be there with Little One as soon as I can. Turning away, he walked over to the window to stare out at the parking lot below.

Goodman had seen the look on Matthew's face as Caitlin talked to him; had heard the emotion in Matthew's voice. There's a lot more going on than I know about. Caitlin is treating him like a family member — or something. She was touching him as she talked to him. Reported to him. Why is Joyce calling for Matthews? Joyce didn't know these people when we went up there to thank them for the donation. I can't ask questions now. But when Joyce is better ... lots better, I'm going to have a lot of questions.

As Goodman started to go find the sheriff, two Denver cops walked in with a couple of Wal-Mart sacks. "We passed the hat and got you some clean clothes. Come on. The charge nurse on the sixth floor has got a place that you can take a shower. Let's get you out of those bloody things."

One slapping him on the shoulder and the other yammering away at him, they led Goodman out of the waiting room.

-------

Later, Doctor Trammell and Sheriff Tate stood in a small room. Three news crews had hastily set up their equipment when told there would be a press conference concerning the deputy who had been shot.

Doctor Trammell stepped forward and positioned himself in front of the microphones. "In accordance with the wishes of Deputy Cramer's husband, sister, and Sheriff Tate, I am prepared to give a short statement concerning the deputy's condition. Deputy Cramer was shot earlier this morning by a large caliber handgun. She is in critical, but relatively stable condition. She has received severe blunt trauma to her heart as the result of the bullet striking her vest. She also has a serious concussion caused when her head hit a concrete block as she fell. Her prognosis at this point is a very guarded one, but unless there are undue consequences, we expect her to recover from her injuries."

As someone yelled a question, he held up his hand. "I am not prepared to answer questions at this point. We are continuing to treat Deputy Cramer and we will do everything in our power to ensure her survival."

With that, the doctor turned and walked through the door.

Sheriff Tate stepped forward. Before anyone could start asking questions, he said, "Like Doctor Trammell, I am going to simply state what we know at this point, but I will not be answering questions now. First of all, our investigation is in the early stages, and in addition, I will not be able to go into detail about an ongoing investigation.

"The information that I can release is as follows: Shortly after 2:00 A.M. this morning, Deputy Cramer answered a call concerning a stolen car. While she was taking the report, a subject is alleged to have taken the complainant hostage. Apparently, shots were exchanged and Deputy Cramer was struck in her chest by a .44 Magnum bullet that had been fired at close range. The person who is alleged to have taken the complainant hostage was killed in the exchange of gunfire.

"Fortunately, our department had just received new top-of-the-line vests donated by an area resident. Doubtless, Deputy Cramer is alive because of that new vest. Also, a fellow deputy — off duty at the time — was able to reach her within minutes. He and the original complainant were able to apply a pressure bandage to slow or stop the bleeding from the head wound. The on-scene paramedics tell me that the deputy would not have survived without this timely intervention. The complainant, whose name I am unable to release at this time, was also injured, but assisted Deputy Goodman despite her own injuries. She is being treated in a local hospital for, as I understand it, a burst eardrum and a concussion."

Tate stopped for a moment to organize his thoughts as he looked about the strangely quiet room. "As is our policy concerning a deputy-involved shooting, our neighboring county in concert with the District Attorney's Office will conduct a separate investigation into the shooting. But it behooves me to say that Deputy Cramer, according to a full audio recording of the incident, at the risk of her own life, distracted the alleged assailant and directed his attention to herself to prevent the murder of the complainant. He was holding a gun to the complainant's head, but Deputy Cramer managed to get him to point the gun at her instead, such that she was shot instead of the complainant. God willing, our deputy will live through this. Her family and I ask for your prayers. Thank you."

Tate turned and walked through the door.

-------

A little later as Sheriff Tate walked aimlessly down the hall, his mind full of worry, "Hi there, stranger. Haven't seen you in a while."

Turning, he stopped. Oh, shit. I don't need this,  he thought as he saw the pretty news anchor and a cameraman.

"Look, Miss..."

"Margie still works. My promotion hasn't gone to my head. Mike, point the camera at the floor so the sheriff will know that we're not trying to sneak anything," she said without turning.

"Already is, Miss Gresham," the cameraman said.

"Look, Margie, I've said all I can say right now. You know that we can't say much during an investigation. Some attorney will always say that he can't get a fair trial for his client because of something we said ... and besides that, what is a news anchor doing out at this time of the morning? It's a long time until the evening news."

"Sheriff, can we sit over there in that little alcove? My feet are killing me," she said pointing to and area just off the hallway with several chairs and a TV.

Tate looked down at her shoes. "If I had to wear those things, my feet would be killing me, too."

"Oh, and the spikes would go so well with your uniform," Gresham laughed as they walked into the small waiting area and sat down.

Turning to her cameraman, she asked, "Would you get us some coffee, please Mike? You can leave your camera on the seat there. I'll watch it."

"Sure. What do you take in yours, Sheriff?"

"Just black will be fine, thank you."

"Okay, be back in a minute."

"Well, now that you've gotten rid of him, what are you up to?" Tate asked as he watched the cameraman walk away.

Gresham grinned. "Actually, I needed a cup of coffee. I don't have any secrets from Mike. I'm bushed. I worked both the six and ten o'clock news. We did a little research for a segment coming up next week and the time got away from us. I didn't get to bed until one o'clock. The station called me when they heard Denver on the police radio talking about the deputy being shot..."

"But that's what they have that blond ... Uh, what's her name? The one that does the spots?"

"Beverly. Yeah, and she does a good job. But do you think I got the anchor job by lying on my back? Before you can answer, I'll tell you. Hell, no! I got it by working my ass off, and I keep it by doing the same thing. This is big news. Not only is a deputy shot, but also she was shot while saving someone else, and she killed her assailant. We're going to have several spots throughout the morning, but when we do the six o'clock, we're going to use a lot of our airtime on this story. I'm looking for background — personal interest stuff. And you owe me one. I made your department and you look good on that other thing a year ago. I told you I would expect a favor in return someday."

As Tate started to say something, Gresham continued, "I'm not trying to get inside information about the investigation. I darn sure don't want to ruin any case you might be developing against anyone — although I can't see what difference that would make since the perp is dead. I want to find out anything about the female deputy that was shot. She's a heroine. I want to play that up. Also anything that would be personal interest about her buddy that came to her rescue.

"Off duty, and he beats everyone else there? We got a great shot of the two of you coming into the hospital. His clothes fairly dripping that deputy's blood, and that look on your face. Everybody out there in Wonderland will see the look on your face and be glad it wasn't them that shot your deputy. Mike is going to get a bonus at the end of the year for that shot, if I have anything to say about it — and I do. I know that you're not interested in politics right now, but I seriously doubt if anyone will even bother running against you after the public sees that scene. And trust me, if there's anyone out there too dumb to interpret the look on your face, we'll do it for them."

Tate sighed. "Margie, I..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't even have mentioned reelection at a time like this. I'm just tired," she said, running her hand through her hair and leaning forward in her seat. "Shit, I'm tired."

After a moment of silence, the news anchor continued, "Look, what about the vest? Is there an angle I can use there? What about an interview with the guy — the area resident — that gave the money for the vests?"

"No." Tate said. "The stipulation, uh, other than buying the best vest out there, was that he remains totally anonymous. And, yeah, I know that it probably wouldn't take long to find out who he is, but I promised the man..."

"Alright, alright. I won't push in that direction. But what can I use? There's got to be something that can get our viewers attention..."

"A demonstration," Tate said. Turning to fully face her, his enthusiasm going up, he continued, "Look, I don't know whether there's time, but I've got the salesman's card." Pulling his billfold out of his pocket, he extracted a business card. "We researched several vests, but this outfit went out of their way to demonstrate the vest on our range. They put it on a sort of, well, manikin. A bust of a person from the waist up. It was made up of something that reacts from impact in, supposedly, the way a human body would under similar circumstances. Except that the affected area would remain visible. In other words, when the bullet struck the vest, the movement of the vest inward would leave a depression in the bust that represented the amount of trauma to a person.

"We shot the vest with a .38, a 9 mm, a .40 cal, a .357 Magnum and then the grand finale, a .44 Magnum. The .38 and 9 mm made a tiny little cavity about a half inch deep in the bust. The .40 caliber did a little more. The .357 made a depression a couple of inches in diameter and about an inch deep representing the trauma to the body."

"And the .44?" Gresham prompted.

"It knocked the thirty pound bust off the table. The vest stopped the bullet, but there was a depression as big as my two fists," he said holding his fists up. And the depression was a third of the way through the bust. Obviously, this can only simulate the damage done to a human body, but judging by my deputy being..." uh," Tate said, his voice becoming hoarse.

"So you're saying do a demo for our viewers?"

"It might work," Tate said looking her in the eye. "If it knocks the bust off the table like it did on our range, it should give everybody an idea of what Deputy Cramer went through."

"When do these people open?" Gresham asked, her enthusiasm roaring toward max. Then, "Oh, crap. It's Saturday. Do you suppose they're open today?"

Tate chuckled. "He was so anxious to make the sale that he put his home number on the back of the card."

Gresham flipped the card over. "Yesss!" she exclaimed digging in her purse for her cell phone. "Hell, it's almost five. He'll probably be up in a little while anyway. And he'd be a darned fool for turning me down on this. Just think about all the free advertisement." Thinking aloud, she continued, "There's a lieutenant on Denver's force that owes me one. I'll give them some good words while we run the segment on the vest. Bet he can get me and this guy on the range for the test."

"They'll have their own place to test the vest," Tate started, but Gresham was on a crusade now.

"No. No. It'll come across a lot better with us walking onto the Denver police range with a few cops thrown in for background. We can't do it with your range. It's too far. I've never seen this done before. I'll need some pictures, as many as you can get me of, uh, Deputy Cramer. Rookie school picture, picture of her standing by her patrol car, anything. We got a shot of the helicopter coming in and the Denver cops pushing the stretcher with the doctors and nurses running along side it. It will come across as a real thriller. I'll work in a header from what one of the cops said about them all wearing blue tonight. We'll do that on the leader before the first commercial. Nobody will change channels after that..."

She was dialing her cell, Tate forgotten as the sheriff stood. Meeting Mike as Tate stepped out of the alcove, he accepted his coffee. "Looks like you have a full day ahead of you," he said nodding to Gresham. "She's on a tear to get a vest demoed. I'll step into the bathroom over there," Tate said, indicating, "and give you my vest. Here, hold my coffee, please," he said handing the Styrofoam cup back to the cameraman. "How about telling the salesman to use my vest for the demo and give me another one. Probably add a little more realism to the demonstration."

A few minutes later, Tate came back and handed the vest to Mike.

"Thanks Sheriff. She'll really appreciate it. She's the best, you know," Mike said glancing over to where Gresham sat animatedly talking on her cell, his eyes softening as he looked at his boss.

"Does she know how you feel?" Tate asked as Mike handed him his coffee.

"What? Uh, no ... I'm just a cameraman. We come a dime a dozen. She's special. I'm not in her class."

Tate grinned at him. "That's not what she says. She's already told me she doesn't have anybody. Next time you're alone with her, why not just lean over and kiss her? You might be surprised."

Tate turned and walked away as Mike stared at his retreating back.



-------

Chapter 72


SATURDAY MORNING EARLY — SEPTEMBER 21

A little later, Caitlin walked into the waiting room. Jeff, Diana and most of the cops stood. As they gathered around, starved for news, Caitlin said, "She's in CICU now. Her nurse has her settled, but I don't have any more news. Joyce is still unconscious. We're hoping that she will wake soon. If she doesn't ... it will not be a good sign.

"Since she has been so frantically asking for Jeff and me each time she wakes for a moment, we're going to sit with her. I'll make sure someone updates you on any changes." Caitlin tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "She would ... be so very pleased if she knew that all of you were here. Thank you."

Jeff turned to Diana, but she shook her head. "Go. I'll be fine. Let me know as soon as you can so I can tell the others."

Most of the cops and deputies had assumed that Diana was Jeff's sister since the rumor got started that Jeff was Cramer's husband, but a couple of them had noticed the look on Diana's face when she talked to Jeff. She sat again, leaning her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

-------

The neurosurgeon had to leave because of a victim with a gunshot wound to the head. The cardiologist sat at the nursing station sipping a cup of coffee, against hospital rules, but supervisors allowed the rules to be bent a little in preference for alert nurses over dragging ones. Doctors tended to make their own rules. Trammell looked up as Caitlin and Jeff entered CICU.

"I've already discussed basal conditions with Jeff," Caitlin said before the doctor managed to say anything.

Instead of a lecture, Trammell shook Jeff's hand. "I suspect she'll be a lot calmer with the two of you near her. I'm going to get something to eat, Caitlin. I'll be back in a little while. No use going home. It's almost time for me to make rounds, anyway."

The tired doctor stood and walked out of the unit without a backward glance. (Most doctors will call the nurse by his/her first name. And some even ask the nurse to call them by their first name.)

"Come on," Caitlin said, "I'll introduce you to her nurse."

-------

Shortly Caitlin and Jeff eased into the dimly lit unit. Each went to opposite sides of the bed and sat on chairs that Caitlin had already brought in for them. Jeff reached out and gently took Joyce's hand. Her head was bandaged and there was a wire running out of the bandage to an instrument.

Caitlin nodded, whispering, "Monitoring pressure on the brain. It's high normal, and gradually creeping up. Not good."

The nurse pushed the curtain closed making the room a deep twilight.

Easy, Little One. Remember all that I've been trying to tell you. There are many people nearby. And despite what you think about our technology, or lack thereof, these people are trying to help Joyce. Please, again I caution you, don't make any noise and you must remain hidden. We may not have ample time for you to do all the healing at one session, just like we discussed. I'm going to put you under the sheet and on Joyce's chest. Please try to conceal yourself if anyone comes into the room.

Jeff felt the reassurance from the healer as he looked at Joyce.

"Well, we're here," Caitlin whispered. "Whatever you did for Jeb, well ... now's the time."

"I need you to close your eyes for a moment or two, and if you see movement under the sheet to not freak out."

"Look, Jeff," Caitlin hissed, "I know that you've got some kind of invention. I wouldn't even consider this if I hadn't seen the way Jeb's arm healed overnight. But cut the mumbo jumbo and get on with it."

"Close your eyes, damnit," Jeff hissed at her.

"Oh, all right," Caitlin said turning her head to the side and closing her eyes.

When the healer flowed out of the neck of Jeff's shirt, he let go of Joyce's hand, raised the sheet and placed Little One on Joyce's chest. Can you just go under that bandage without cutting it off? They'll know something is wrong if you do.

As Jeff continued to look, the bandage rose up and slid aside. Even in the low light, Jeff with his sensitive vision got a good look at Joyce's swollen chest for a moment before the healer settled over the area.

Jeff quickly dropped the sheet back into place as the blue glow came on. Glancing at Caitlin, he saw that she still had her eyes closed. "Okay," he whispered, "you can open your eyes now, but don't get excited about the blue glow."

Caitlin instantly saw the faint light through the sheet, brighter where it leaked out around a couple of wrinkles. Jeff's hands smoothed the cover, tucking it in where necessary to cut down the light leaking out.

"Where did you have that?" Caitlin said first looking at the faint lump under the sheet, then back up at Jeff.

"Please," Jeff said, "we've gone through this before. Just hush and trust me. If we can keep this going for a while, Joyce is guaranteed a full recovery. But it's going to take time. We can't let anyone raise that sheet, and when she's done there we're going to have to conceal her on Joyce's head, somehow."

"Her?" Caitlin said.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said, his tired brain having let that slip.

With each of them holding one of Joyce's hands, and with them leaning forward, their faces were only a couple of feet apart. Seeing the look on Jeff's face, Caitlin sighed. "Okay. I just want her to be well. I'll do anything you say if you can heal her. If this has to be the big secret — which I certainly don't agree with — I'll play along. I love her with all my heart. I can't lose her. Just make her well. The nurse told me that she would wait for thirty minutes since I'm in here, anyway. So, we have that long before she'll peek in. She'll want to do a visual on the IVs and access her patient. We'll go from there."

Time drifted onward while Jeff vehemently hoped that the nurse wouldn't come in early. At the twenty-five minute point: Little One, the nurse should be here in a moment. Will you please put the bandage back and conceal yourself?

Having "heard" it before, Jeff was fairly certain that the grating response was the healer's version of cursing.

The door suddenly opened and the curtain slid back. Twenty-six minutes. Shit! Jeff thought as he frantically tried to think of a way to stall so the healer would have time to hide.

Caitlin, seeing the shock and worry suddenly appear on Jeff's face and realizing why, got up and spent a couple of minutes in whispered conference with the nurse, who by now was growing impatient with Caitlin.

Stepping to the foot of the bed, the nurse touched each of Joyce's feet through the hole designed for that in the bottom of the knee-high hospital hose. Caitlin later told Jeff that the nurse was making sure that Joyce's feet were warm, which meant that she had a good blood supply (pulse) in her feet. She checked her monitors for a moment, then after checking the IV tubing, she checked the central venous line where it went into the subclavian vein (near Joyce's clavicle) allowing the catheter to go into Joyce's heart for monitoring. When she found nothing awry, she attached a small bag of medication piggyback to the main IV bag.

Taking the stethoscope from around her neck and centering the earpieces in her ears, she pulled back the sheet a little. Maneuvering the stethoscope to several places on Joyce's chest, she gradually pulled the sheet lower and listened for extended periods of time, the concern on her face gradually morphing into a faint smile.

Suddenly, she pulled the sheet back to gently palpate several places on Joyce's stomach and chest, but didn't remove the bandage. Jeff held his breath as the movement of the sheet caused the bandage to slip a little as the nurse pulled the covering back into place. He marveled that Little One had managed to get the bandage into place and even partially adhered, thankful that the nurse hadn't noticed anything.

Making a minute adjustment to the equipment that regulated the new IV med drip, she watched the machine for a moment more. Moving the intubation tube a little, she swabbed Joyce's mouth, suctioning when she was done. With a small pad, she wiped around the NG tube in her patient's nose. (Naseogastric tube. In this case to provide suction to Joyce's stomach to keep her from vomiting and aspirating it.)

After shining a small light into each of Joyce's eyes and just standing and looking at the patient for a moment longer, she returned the sheet to its proper place. Smiling at Jeff and Caitlin, she quietly left the room, pulling the curtain back into position and the door closed.

Jeff felt like the world had just lifted from his shoulders. As soon as the nurse was gone, he let out a quiet sigh. Pulling the sheet back, Jeff saw a hair-thin tendril ease out from under Joyce's back, a very faint blue glow surrounding the near invisible tip. Realizing the coast was clear, Little One flowed from under the deputy to resume her usual configuration, pushed the bandage aside, then changing slightly, spread herself over Joyce's heart area.

Jeff heard a gasp as Caitlin slumped into her chair, a look of awe on her pretty face.

Jeff had been so worried about Joyce, not to say anything about the nurse discovering the healer, that he had momentarily forgotten about Caitlin.

Well, she's seen the healer. Ah, hell. Fuck that arrogant son-of-a-bitch, he thought, referring to his general. He and I need to have a good old-fashioned talk, anyway. I'm getting tired of being his little errand boy. If he weren't so tied up in secrecy, he would have sent enough of us to get the job done. No telling how many people he has gotten killed with his schemes. I know that at least two teams haven't come back, and if it hadn't been for just plain luck, we wouldn't have made it, either. And not just the last time. Maybe I am lucky after all.

Lovingly stroking Joyce's face, he tried to send his love to her. I understand that we need to maintain secrecy about the portal and the ship, and maybe the healers — within reason. But the healer has long since broken the compulsions that asshole buried in my brain. I will honor my vow, but he will just have to get over me telling my wives. I told him it wasn't reasonable and I didn't know if I could maintain the secrecy about the healer with my extended family, but that I would try. And I'm tired of being threatened with having me shot. Oh, I know that he can. Basically, he doesn't have anyone to answer to anymore. Nobody knows we exist. But yeah, we're going to ... talk, sooner or later. My way.

Glancing at Caitlin, he extended his hand until he was touching the healer. Caitlin has seen you, but it was my fault. You did well with the nurse. I sincerely appreciate it. Thank you Little One,  he finished as he gently squeezed her for a second.

{{{ Your new mate will be better soon. I will not let her die. I only need a little while longer with her heart. Her brain will be easier to repair. But I will need more time later to bring her back to full health. }}}

Her message was sent with an emotion. And although the feeling was odd, he had no doubt that it was her version of love. He wasn't sure where the love was directed, but it was more than the usual feeling of contentment that Little One exhibited as she worked. Vaguely wondering, he caressed the healer for a moment before moving the sheet back into position.

Glancing at Caitlin, he took a breath. With his exceptional low-light vision, he saw that her face looked as if all the blood had drained from it.

Caitlin stared at Joyce's sheet-covered chest for a moment. After a while, Jeff could feel her eyes on him. Looking away from Joyce, he met Caitlin's eyes.

"That ... that ... thing is alive. I could feel ... something in my mind ... like a ... buzzing." There was a moment of hesitation before, "It was talking to you wasn't it?" she accused, although she still remembered to whisper.

"She is a she. Not an it," Jeff absently corrected. "And yes, I was 'talking' with her."

"Jeff, how could you make that, uh, her?" Then answering her own question, "You didn't. That thing is alive. Oh, shit, is Joyce safe?" she finished, her voice coming up enough to worry Jeff.

Jeff put his finger to his lips in the universal gesture to be quiet, glancing toward the door. When the nurse didn't show up, he turned back to Caitlin. "I'm already into deep shit, anyway. I'll tell you a little more about her when we're alone, or back at the retreat with my wives, but please, just cool it for now. She is healing Joyce. Remember, I promised you that if you could get me alone with Joyce for an extended period of time that she would be healed. If I understand correctly, Little One is finishing up with the heart now. She says that the brain will be easy and I guess, much quicker."

"Oh, so healing a broken blood vessel in the brain and repairing damaged brain tissue is just an 'easy' thing to do?" she sarcastically said.

Caitlin's eyes were drawn to Joyce's pulse rate showing on the monitor. "Her heart rate is falling and although that is good, you can bet that nurse will be in here shortly if it continues to fall at that rate."

Jeff snapped his eyes to the screen where, even as he looked, the heart rate seemed to level out at one hundred and thirty. Raising the sheet a little, he put his hand on the healer. Little One, Caitlin tells me that the nurse will react if the heart rate continues to fall so rapidly... 

{{{ I assumed that. I will maintain it at the current rate for a period of time. }}}

-------

At the desk, doctor Trammell stood talking with the nurse. As her eyes routinely glanced at the monitor, she froze. Putting her hand on the doctor's arm, she nodded toward the screen.

Trammell's face broke into a grin as the nurse said, "Her inverted T wave just corrected itself. The monitor is showing an almost perfect heartbeat now. Oh, it's fast and still just a little erratic but..."

" ... better," the doctor finished for her. "And the rate is down to a hundred and thirty. The heart is coming back. She's healing. That's a tough little girl in there. Maybe her brain will be all right as well."

"Let's check her out," Trammell said as he turned to go to the room.

The nurse put a hand on his shoulder. "She's calm. Still unconscious, but it's like she knows that those two are with her. Why don't we just not disturb her right now?"

Trammell grinned at her. "Hoist by my own petard," he laughed, turning back to the nurse. "I ordered basal living conditions, and now I'm about to violate my own order. Yeah, let's leave her quiet and let her body and our medication do the work." But it was obvious that if the doctor had a tail, he would be wagging it.

-------

Realizing that Caitlin was just as tense as he was, Jeff tried to find a way to ease the tension between them. Glancing at Joyce, he quietly asked Caitlin, "Why does she have the tubes in her throat and nose?" even though he had a good idea himself.

Caitlin looked away for a second, realizing instantly what Jeff was trying to do. "Uh, she's intubated because the doctors are wanting to hyperventilate her to try to provide as much extra oxygen to her brain as possible to promote and accelerate healing."

Lifting the sheet from one of Joyce's legs Caitlin continued, motioning to the apparatus surrounding her sister's lower leg. While they watched, the equipment inflated, compressing itself around Joyce's lower legs.

"That's called an SCD," she whispered. "It means Sequential Compression Device. It's used to keep down blood clots. Since they can't give her anticoagulants because of the brain bleed, they're doing this".

Putting the sheet back, Caitlin stood staring down for a moment, then, "I'm sorry I snapped at you..."

Jeff had already walked around to Caitlin's side of the bed. Putting his arms around her, he leaned down and kissed her forehead, said, "All of us have been on edge. The only reason I'm calming down is that I know that Joyce will be fine now as long as we can maintain a low profile for Little One so that she can do the rest."

As if on cue, the healer moved from under the sheet across Joyce's shoulder to rest on the back of her head. As she moved, the near-invisible tendrils — apparently hundreds of them — gave her the appearance of being clothed in a mist. After a moment, Little One crept toward the front of Joyce's head, then settled again.

After only ten minutes, she returned to the back of the deputy's head. The bloody bandage moved aside and the healer sat atop the shaved section to complete her duties.

"My God," Caitlin whispered, the back of her fist against her mouth.

Jeff had never seen the healer with that many of the tendrils showing at the same time, let alone seen the mist effect as they moved rapidly about. Mentally chuckling, he suspected that it was her sense of humor to give a doubting Caitlin a show.

-------

Little One moved the bandage back into place, hurriedly moving from Caitlin's head to Jeff's hand. When he put her close to the neck of his shirt, she flowed through spreading herself across Jeff's back.

Almost as an afterthought, a tendril reached out of Jeff's shirt and a blue beam swiped across Joyce's head for a moment. Joyce moaned and moved as the tendril snapped out of sight.

Jeff winked at Caitlin, although he wasn't certain that she could see well enough in the low light to notice. "The shit is fixing to hit the rotating device," he said, chuckling as Joyce's heart rate plummeted to seventy beats per minute.

Alarms went off. Seconds later the door was opened and the curtain was snatched back. Trammell and the nurse rushed in as Joyce tried to sit up.

"Easy. Easy," the doctor said as he tried to get past Caitlin as she and Joyce hugged each other.

Joyce pulled at the intubation tube in her mouth, but Caitlin restrained her saying, "No. Leave that. It's helping you to breathe."

Even though the tube and the apparatus that held it in place concealed much of Joyce's expression, it was still obvious that she wasn't pleased as she tried to talk around the tube. Exasperated, she made writing motions with her hands.

Anticipating, the nurse handed Joyce a small white board and marker that ventilator patients used to communicate.

Joyce made a mumbling sound that was probably, "Thank you," as she snatched the board and marker.

Dumbfounding the doctor and nurse, shocking Caitlin, and amusing Jeff to no end, Joyce quickly scribbled out, "Did I kill the son-of-a-bitch?"

Jeff's grin got bigger. "Goodman tells me that you did." Then with emphasis, "Deader than hell!"

Joyce turned her head and locked eyes with Caitlin as she pointed to the tubes in her face, then wrote in big block letters, "GET THIS CRAP OUT OF ME!!!" stabbing out three exclamation points that almost broke the marker.

As she struggled to sit up more, she winced. Quickly raising the sheet, she looked down at herself. Pointing under the sheet, she tried to say something else. Although the sounds she made were mostly unintelligible, everyone there knew that she wanted her urine catheter removed, as well.

Doctor Trammell tried to sooth Joyce, telling her that the intubation tube was necessary to make sure she had sufficient oxygen to her brain to help her healing, but Caitlin broke in.

"Doctor, the pulse ox has continued to show her saturation at one hundred percent even with her moving around and getting excited."

By then the neurosurgeon was in the room, also. "We need to do another CAT scan of your brain. If everything looks okay, we'll consider removing the tubes at that point," he said to Joyce.

"Doctor," Jeff said, "the tubes are obviously upsetting her. Why not make a little deal with her? You remove the tubes and if her saturation goes down, then the tubes go back in. Either way, she'll be quiet and let you get on with your tests."

Jeff put his hand on Joyce's shoulder for a moment. "Do you agree?" he asked, squeezing gently.

Joyce tried to sigh, but the equipment picked that moment to fill her lungs with air, which had her eyes sparkling with anger as she lost the battle of whether she breathed when she wanted to, or when the machine wanted her to.

Joyce grabbed the board and marker again. She had gotten to, "Get this G..." when Jeff closed his hand over hers. Looking at her, he shook his head. In a moment, her eyes filled with tears, but she relaxed back onto the pillow.

"Her sats are still at a hundred percent," the nurse quietly said.

The two doctors looked at each other, then the neurosurgeon spoke, "Pull the NG tube and extubate her. We'll leave the central line. But if her sats go down, the tubes go back. And, young lady," he continued, looking hard at Joyce, "you need to remain still until I can find out how your brain is coming along. We don't need to start that bleed again."

It was obvious that Joyce didn't know what he was talking about, but she nodded her head.

As the nurse started toward the sink to wash her hands, Caitlin said, "I'll take care of it." After washing her hands, she gloved and turned to Jeff.

"This isn't pretty, Jeff. You might want to step outside for a couple of minutes."

"There are far too many people in this room," the neurosurgeon said.

Jeff slowly turned his head to stare at the doctor who was only a couple of feet away. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out that Jeff was leaving right after Hell froze over.

After a moment of staring at each other, the neurosurgeon shrugged. "I need to get by so I can wash my hands."

"Caitlin, I'll do that. Family, you remember," the nurse said, reminding Caitlin about the family policy of the hospital.

"Get her a cup of ice, if you don't mind, Margie. I want to do this, myself."

The nurse smiled at Caitlin, and said, "Sure. Be right back."

Caitlin released the pressure from the small bulb, looked in her lover's eyes and said, "Cough for me Joyce," and pulled the intubation tube from Joyce's lungs, turned and tossed the tubing into the trash.

As Joyce gasped with an odd look on her face, Caitlin took the tape off and pulled the NG tube.

Joyce shivered and took a deep breath. "That's an experience I can do without," she croaked.

The nurse, now back with her cup of ice, added water from the nearby sink. "Take a few small sips of this. It will help with the dryness in your mouth."

Joyce took a couple of sips, then started with a longer drink, but the nurse put a gentle restraining hand on the cup. "Let's wait a moment or two. Then we'll try a little more."

Joyce looked around at everyone. "I'm thirsty," then realizing, "I'm hungry. Really hungry."

"No," both doctors said almost in unison.

The neurosurgeon finished, "Let's get the tests, then we'll see about getting you a little light food."

"Light?" Joyce fussed. "How about a couple of Whoppers with cheese and a large order of fries. And yeah, the biggest chocolate shake they have."

"Ms. Cramer..." the neurosurgeon started.

"Deputy Cramer, if you're going to be formal; Joyce, if you're not. And I'm beginning to not like you. Now, somebody get this other tube out of me before I take it out," she grumped.

"Perhaps it would be better if you stepped out, Mr. Cramer..."

"Huh?" Joyce said, but after a second she caught on. "My husband isn't going anywhere," as she grabbed Jeff's hand.

"Caitlin, get that ... thing out of me."

Smiling from ear to ear at the grumpy but obviously much better, if not completely healed Joyce, Caitlin reached under the sheet. A moment later, Joyce sighed with relief.

"Now what's this about Goodman?" Joyce asked, ignoring the doctors.

Caitlin looked at her lover. "From what we hear, you would have bled to death without him. He and the woman with the stolen car held a pressure bandage on the back of your head to keep ... Well, I guess you don't need to hear that right now."

"Back of my head?" Joyce said, running her hand behind her head to discover the thick bandage. "But it doesn't hurt," she said trying to get her hand under the bandage.

"Wait!" the neurosurgeon said reaching for Joyce's hands, but he was too late. She had already pulled the bandage aside and was tentatively running her fingertips across the shaven place on the back of her head.

By then, the neurosurgeon had pushed past Jeff, but as he grabbed for Joyce's hands expecting that she had opened the ghastly hole in the back of her head, he froze.

"This can't be," he quietly said, reaching out to gently move Joyce's hand. Staring at the puckered new skin where the two-inch hole had been, he stood transfixed.

"What about it Edwin? Did she start the bleeding again?" Doctor Trammell said as he pushed through to help. Then, "Oh, shit," he whispered, as his eyes locked onto where the neurosurgeon was staring.

"This can't be," the neurosurgeon said. "She was missing too much flesh. I just partially closed. We were going to get a cosmetic man to do a skin graft when she was better, but now ... it's almost completely healed."

Joyce again brushed hands aside as she felt the back of her head. "Why is my hair all gone back there?"

"Baby, you fell and hit the back of your head, hard," Jeff broke in.

"And that bullet did a lot of blunt trauma damage to your chest and heart," Caitlin added.

"Well, I'm fine now," Joyce announced. "And I'm hungry. Let's get these tests over with so I can eat."

The two doctors looked at each other, tried to remain straight-faced, but started to laugh, anyway. "I'm always tickled to see one of my patients hungry after surgery," the neurosurgeon said. "But I think that ravenous would be a little more descriptive in Deputy Cramer's case."

Turning to the nurse, he said, "How about checking to see when we can get a CAT scan of this little lady's brain."

A couple of minutes later, the nurse was back. "They just finished one. They're ready to go as soon as we can get there."



-------

Chapter 73

The neurosurgeon sat at the computer with Doctor Trammell (the cardiologist) looking over his shoulder. "It's just not there. There's nothing."

Moving the mouse expertly about, he soon had both CAT scans on the screen. "Look, there's the before. See that," he said thumping a fingertip against the screen. "Plain as day. Now over here, nothing," he exclaimed, indicating the same area on the most recent scan. "I ran the fucking scan twice. It just can't be ... I had the radiologist read it, too. He thought I was trying to screw with him. He couldn't see a thing, either."

Trammell chuckled. "Remember what that charge nurse said the other day when a monitor lead detached from a patient and the new nurse was about to have a stroke thinking the patient had suddenly gone into asystole, although the patient was lying there joking with her? Something like, 'treat the patient, not the machine?' Well, treat the patient."

The neurosurgeon sighed and dropped his hands to the desk. "Treat her? What, give her lunch? What the fuck happened in that room? She had a hole approximately forty millimeters (1.57 inches) in the occipital region, which has almost healed. She had a non-acute, but potentially dangerous, subdural hematoma. (An subdural hematoma or SDH is a rapidly clotting blood collection below the inner layer of the dura but external to the brain and arachnoid membrane, with the acute variety being very, very dangerous.) Now the only thing I can find wrong with her is she has a screwed up haircut where we shaved the back of her head, and she's hungry."

"Yeah," Trammell said. "Her heart sounds perfect, her EKG is perfect, and her chest is barely discolored, and only very slightly swollen. (EKG or ECG: electrocardiogram is a graph produced by an electrocardiograph, which records the electrical activity of the heart over time.) How are we going to write this one up for the insurance company? They're either going to think that we screwed up the diagnosis, or we kicked her out of the hospital too early."

The neurosurgeon laughed. "When did you ever get scolded by an insurance company for dismissing your patient too early?"

Trammell grinned. "Yeah, there is that. And besides, she isn't going anywhere, yet."

He slid into a chair beside the neurosurgeon. "Well, we can't keep her in intensive care while she's lying there bitching and eating Whoppers. For whatever reason, that young lady is on her way to being totally well ... Say, this might make a really nice paper..." He stopped himself for a second, then continued, "We lay out our diagnosis, tell about what happened to her, then what do we say? Oh, yeah, she miraculously healed herself a few hours later. Now that would make a great article — for the funny papers, that is."

"Bullshit." The neurosurgeon said, his God complex coming to the fore as he rationalized the healing away. "She would have died without me..." At the cardiologist's frown, the neurosurgeon changed it to, "She would have died without us. Some things you just can't explain. She just healed more quickly than the norm."

Trammell glanced at his buddy and sighed. "Maybe so. Still, I've never seen anything like it." After a moment of contemplation by both doctors, Trammell continued, changing subjects, "I have to go into the office today. How about you?"

"Saturday?" the neurosurgeon asked, incredulously. "You've got to be kidding."

"No. I'm not. I agreed to see one of my regular patients this morning."

"You're shitting me. If he's having problems, tell him to go to the emergency room, or wait until next week."

"Ah, he's a friend of a friend. He says that he's been having some odd feelings in his chest. Says it has been going on for a month or so. I told him I would see him this morning."

The neurosurgeon chuckled. "My tee time is eleven. Besides, with the deputy and the other surgery, I'm okay for the day, anyway," he finished, obviously talking about what he had earned.

"How did the surgery come out?" Trammell asked as he finished the dregs of his coffee and tossed the cup in the trash.

The neurosurgeon picked up his coffee cup, frowned and threw it in the container with Trammell's. "This little old lady decided that she had lived as long as she wanted to. She took an old .38, shot her dog, then put the gun to her temple. When the paramedics got there they found the dead dog, her suicide note with her lying on the bed in a pool of blood. She had an entrance hole in her right temple and an exit hole on the left."

The neurosurgeon pulled another chair out and propped his feet in it, dragging out his story.

"Well?" Trammell said.

"If she doesn't get an infection, she'll probably spend three days in the hospital before going home."

"You're messing with me," Trammell accused.

The neurosurgeon grinned, "The stupid bitch is probably the luckiest person in the world, although I have heard similar accounts. But this is the first time that I have personally seen anything like it. The bullet apparently went in at an angle, ricocheted off something and traveled all the way around the inside of her skull before exiting on the opposite side of her head. As far as we're able to determine, the dura is still intact. Apparently, the bullet never touched her brain. Hell, I did more damage than she did."

"So we have two miracles in one day," Trammell said, a studied frown on his face.

"No, my friend. It's just called the golden touch," the neurosurgeon said, standing. "Let's go play golf. Elliot is bringing his ex sister-in-law. I've only seen her once, but I think I'll see a lot more of her tonight," he said, slapping his buddy on the shoulder and walking (strutting) off.

Trammell chuckled, but his gaze shifted back to the screen. Odd, he thought. I've had a couple of patients that healed quickly, but this is beyond anything that I've ever heard. Intrigued, he sat looking at the two scans, his mind dissecting the events of the last hours.

-------

Pushing the mute button, the house supervisor turned to Lars who was in charge of bed control. "I've got CI's (short for CICU, the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit) charge nurse on the phone. Trammell wants that deputy moved to a floor."

"Well, we've got..."

"Wait, let's think a minute. The last time we had a cop shot there were police coming in and out by the droves. They've pretty much stayed in that extra waiting room we opened for them near CICU so far, but moving her to a floor will change that. Let's put her as close to the elevator as we can. That way they won't be wandering all over the hospital. Do we have one of the new big rooms that is empty, maybe close to the elevator? She'll be wearing a monitor though,  (remote heart monitor) so that's going to narrow us down."

"How about 3409? That's only about three rooms from an elevator on a monitor floor, and it's one of the new rooms."

"Great." Un-muting the phone, she told CICU what she had planned. "Lars is on the phone as we speak telling third that they're going to get your patient. They have enough staff to take her right away. He'll call you back in a few minutes."

-------

Joyce had eaten a bland breakfast in CICU. Now in room 3409, she was finally happy. Jeff had arranged for a Whopper, large fries and a chocolate shake. The nurse had smelled the food as soon as she entered the room. She saw the sack, grinned and said she would be back in a few minutes.

Although the hospital staff had tried to transfer Joyce as secretly as they could, the news media had somehow found out, and not all of them were as nice as Gresham had been. However, there was one little problem — well, actually two big problems — both standing at parade rest at Joyce's door.

As the first group of news people got off the elevator, figured out which way 3409 was and turned, each cop took a half step toward the other, blocking the door.

"Family is with her now," one cop said as the group approached. "She needs to rest. The sheriff and doctor Trammell will have an update for you later in the day. Right now, the doctors are only allowing family to visit. Sorry." But he didn't look, nor sound, a bit sorry.

There was a flurry of action as camera people moved into position and questions streamed out, but both cops stood mute staring blankly at the opposite wall, their faces expressionless. After a few minutes of the cops refusing to respond and with the door remaining closed, the charge nurse came by and reiterated what the cops had said.

Joyce's nurse returned also, walking purposely toward the door. At the last second, both cops stepped aside. As soon as she opened the door and walked through, they stepped back, closing the hole, the cops' eyes again locked to a spot on the wall opposite.

The charge nurse stood with her hands on her hips, saying nothing. Finally, looking at the group, she said, "If that were your sister in there, would you expect her to talk to strangers right now, so soon after she almost died? Her doctor says she can't see anyone except family just yet. When he approves, and she says it's okay, we'll be glad to provide a place for you to interview her — if she wants to talk to you. Right now, she's surrounded by family who are probably rejoicing that she is alive. Give her a break, people."

Eventually they all went back to the area provided by the hospital for them.

One cop looked at the other. "I've always wanted to do that shit. You know, like those guys at Buckingham Palace. Crap, it was hard not to laugh when we stepped in front of them, though."

They laughed, then one asked the other, "What do you suppose she wants for dinner? We can get her a steak just as easily as we got that Whopper. Hell, Sarge will have it brought in code three."

"Yeah, that sounds good. When Mr. Matthews comes back out again, we'll see what he says. I like that guy."

"I thought they said he was the deputy's husband. But his name is Matthews and hers is Cramer."

"Yeah. That's right, and that other one with the haughty look acts like his wife."

"Well, she hugged both of us. She doesn't act haughty ... Oh, man. Look what just got off the elevator. They said that Cramer had more family coming, but damn," he finished, whispering as the rest of Jeff's wives approached, then were shortly followed by everyone at the retreat as the second elevator emptied.

One cop turned and quietly rapped three times on the door. When he heard a "come in" from inside, he quickly pushed the door open and held it.

Frank, Bill and Dave stopped just inside the door and waited as the women quickly surrounded Joyce. The cop winked at the men and stepped back to his position, closing the door as he went.

-------

On the six o'clock news, Gresham gave the leader. "Tonight, Deputy Joyce Cramer is in a much improved condition after being shot in the chest early this morning. Sources close to the investigation tell us that she deliberately took a bullet from a .44 Magnum to save the life of someone else." As Gresham continued, now in voice-over, they ran the tape of the helicopter coming in and the cops, doctors and nurses running with the stretcher into the building. The shot faded into Sheriff Tate and Deputy Goodman entering the building, Goodman's blood-drenched shirt obvious. The shot ended with the intense look of anger and determination on Tate's face.

"More when we come back," Gresham finished as a commercial came on.

"Wow!" Arlene said. Her exclamation followed by similar ones from everyone in the room, now including the two cops.

"The computer at home is recording all the local channels," Helen interjected, plus Fox and CNN."

"I don't know whether I can watch this or not," Joyce said. "They're making me out to be a hero, and that's bullshit. I was just trying to keep him from shooting her. The only thing I could think of when he said it was time to kill her was to get him pissed off at me..."

"So you took the bullet that was meant for her," one of the cops said, pride in his voice.

"Well, I was hoping to get my round off before he did," Joyce said. "I'm not into suicide."

The cops looked at each other and grinned — proud.

-------

Gresham, although far from an expert, had received instruction and practiced with handguns several times in the past. Earlier in the day, she had convinced the range master that she was capable of safely firing various handgun rounds into a vest. She explained to the camera that Sheriff Tate had taken his vest off and volunteered it for testing.

The salesman had brought a vest that would fit the news anchor. She spent a few seconds showing how to put it on, and held up one of the "soft" trauma plates that distributed the force of impact if a bullet hit directly over the heart.

They showed Gresham, wearing ear and eye protection, firing a .38, and a 9 mm into Tate's vest at near point blank range after it was mounted on the bust. She explained that the material that the bust was made of mimicked what happened to a person when struck with a bullet while wearing concealable soft body armor.

When she fired the .44 Magnum, Gresham quickly put the revolver down on a table and said, "Oh, crap. That thing kicked," while she unconsciously rubbed her strained right wrist.

As Tate had hoped, the bust toppled over from the impact of the bullet, then overbalanced the small table the bust was sitting on. When Gresham had fired each round, the hole in the vest was marked, the bullet clearly showing imbedded in the Kevlar.

When the bust was put back on the table and the vest removed, the damage by each round was easy to see. And the gaping indentation left in the bust by the .44 was several orders of magnitude greater than that made by any of the other rounds that were fired.

Gresham put her doubled fists in the cavity the .44 made. "This is a representation of the trauma that Deputy Joyce Cramer experienced in the early hours of the morning.

"Deputy Cramer is on the Department's pistol team and is certainly familiar with firearms. She knew exactly what that .44 Magnum round would do to her even with her vest on, yet she took a bullet for someone that she had met for the first time only moments before. Tonight we salute a true heroine.

"Our latest report from the hospital is good news though and extremely encouraging. The doctors now tell us that her prognosis is excellent and that her recovery at this point is nothing less than miraculous." Jeff flinched at the comment, but the cops seemed to have no reaction, having heard the news media use this type of description to overdramatize things many times before. A grin touched Jeff's lips as he realized that he might just get away with this after all.

"We have been unable to interview Deputy Goodman (the tape ran again showing Goodman walking beside the sheriff), but our sources tell us that Deputy Cramer would have died from loss of blood on the scene had it not been for him — and the original complainant on the call. Apparently, Deputy Cramer fell and hit her head on a concrete block when the bullet struck her."

As the station switched back to a close-up of the pretty anchor sitting at her desk, Gresham continued, "Deputy Goodman, off duty, arrived before anyone else and devised a unique pressure bandage to slow the bleeding in the back of her head. The woman who had her car stolen assisted him in doing this, but we have been asked by the Sheriff's Department to not disclose her name at this time.

"As you know, we have always honored requests from law enforcement, and do so again. We have been allowed to say that the woman was also injured and is being treated in a local hospital for a burst eardrum and other injuries, but is expected to recover."

Gresham's voice changed, becoming even more serious. "The burst eardrum shows just how heroic Deputy Cramer was. A retired officer who advises us informs me this means it is almost certain that the perpetrator was holding the .44 to the victim's head, and when he was about to fire, Deputy Cramer somehow got him to shift his aim to her as the only means of saving the victim's life. This was only a matter of inches, and less than a second, so it's almost certain that he fired his gun right next to the victim's ear. Deputy Cramer did this knowing exactly what his .44 round would do to her. We wish you a rapid recovery, Deputy Cramer."

I tape of a warehouse fire came on. "In other local news, there was a large fire..."

Diana hit the mute button on the remote.

Joyce sat bolt upright. "Goodman saved my life? Where is he? Turcott got hurt? I thought you said my round got that asshole? Did Goodman get hurt? Where is he?" she said looking at Jeff, her questions tumbling one upon the other.

"Calm, Joyce," Diana quietly admonished. "We've been worried about you, even after you woke up. We were trying to ease you into this. Goodman, the sheriff and your shift lieutenant have been here practically since you have. They're off somewhere trying to talk to the administrator of the hospital. Well, it, uh, seems that the helicopter pilot on the medevac chopper didn't land according to regulations..."

Diana stopped for a moment feeling helpless, not wanting to tell Joyce what had happened to the pilot.

"And..." Joyce said, impatiently.

"And ... the administrator fired him."

"Fired him? What did he do? Was it a rough landing or something?"

"Well, no..."

"He came in fast," Jeff said. "Flared at the last instant and sat down. It makes more noise, and has more of a risk to it if he overshoots. He nailed the landing, but we've been told that the administrator fired him anyway. Sheriff Tate, Denver's chief, your lieutenant, Goodman and Frank Wainwright, Captain Madison and Dave, plus Caitlin have gone to try and talk to the administrator."

"He did that — that landing that got him fired — because of me?" Joyce asked, a deep frown on her face.

Jeff glanced at Diana who nodded. "He flew a medevac chopper for the army. Chances are that he's landed like that many times. Uh, you were in pretty bad shape. He was trying to cut all the time off the flight that he could. There probably was some risk to it, and I hear that it was certainly louder than a regular landing. It probably bothered some patients whose rooms were nearest the helipad."

Joyce glanced back at the TV for a moment, remembering, the frown deepening on her pretty face. "That landing was impressive, and who were the two police officers that were pushing the stretcher? They were going all out. It looked like that one doctor could barely keep up."

"We don't know," Arlene said. "Just two officers that got here in time to meet the chopper. That's all we know. Dad says that there were tons of police all over the place. They even blocked a couple of intersections so that they could get here a little faster, and even parked the Escalade. They've brought us food and drinks all day."

Joyce looked at the two cops that were invited into the room to watch the news. "Do you guys know who those two policemen were that helped take me off the helicopter?"

One cop looked at the other. "Did you recognize them?"

"Nah. I couldn't really see their faces that well on the TV."

"Sorry, Deputy. We don't know who they were," the first one said turning back to Joyce, lying through his teeth. They would joke about that later on, since it had been them.

"Well, if you find out who they are, please tell them that I thank them so very, very much," Joyce said.

"We'll tell them, if we figure out who they are," one said as they went back to their self-appointed post at the door.

Outside the door a few minutes later, "Three to eleven LT just got off the elevator," one cop said to the other. (Often, police refer to their shift lieutenant as the LT, or address the person as, "LT." Each letter enunciated. El Tee. Some departments don't allow this familiarity. Ranks in police departments are generally: Patrol Officer, Sergeant, Lieutenant, Captain, and Chief. Some departments expand the ranks somewhat, adding corporal, major, etc. Usually, a lieutenant will command a shift, or unit, such as a vice unit. Ranks structure is based on the military, but usually has far fewer rank levels.) Both braced, then saluted when the lieutenant was in front of them.

"You guys been here all day?"

"Uh, yes Sir," one said.

"Since you got off work this morning?"

"Uh, yes Sir. Well, we helped a little during the shift when we weren't on calls. When we got off, we came over here."

"Are you going to work tonight?"

"Uh, yes Sir. You know we wouldn't take off work because of being here some. We're going home and get a couple of hours sleep before we go on shift."

The lieutenant stared at them a moment making them sweat, then suddenly grinned. "Chief saw you here. Liked it. Told me the captain was going to get in touch with your lieutenant and mark you off tonight for time worked today here at the hospital. Oh, there will be two guys to relieve you about eight tonight. Your extra time over your eight hours today will go in the books as overtime. Well done!"

Shortly the lieutenant was gone. "The chief saw us? I didn't even know he was here. We're going to be paid for this? Damn," he finished, grinning. "I expected to get my ass chewed, not be told we were going to get paid."

The elevator door opened.

"Oh, shit. Here he comes now."

One of the cops went into Joyce's room and told Diana that the Denver Chief and the others had just gotten off the elevator.

Diana, who had been sitting beside Joyce's bed, stood. "We need to make room for them," she said grabbing her purse.

"No," Laura quickly interjected. "The rest of us will leave for now. We need to get a hotel suite or two, anyway, but you need to stay with Joyce."

The other wives quickly agreed and almost as quickly, everyone but Jeff and Diana filed out of the room.

Joyce was doubly thankful that Jeff's wives had stopped off and bought her a couple of sets of very feminine pajamas, for the hospital gowns left her feeling naked.

Caitlin was the first through the door, followed by Sheriff Tate, then Deputy Goodman with Denver's police chief following. Wainwright, Dave and Madison walked on down the hall to a small, unoccupied waiting room.

Tate shook her hand. "You had us awfully worried Deputy. But we're overjoyed that you are recovering, and we're mighty proud of you."

As the sheriff shook her hand, Goodman stood beside him, patiently waiting, thinking about nothing in particular. He felt hands grasp his arm and yank him toward the bed. "Where have you been?" Joyce demanded. "You saved my life. Why haven't you been in to see me before now?"

"Well, I thought that your family..." he got out before Cramer sat up, grabbed him around the neck and hugged him tightly. Stunned, he tried to say something but her mouth suddenly sealed itself to his as she showed him how much she appreciated all that he had done. Goodman's color gradually changed to a flushed red as Joyce continued the kiss, the others, including Jeff, grinning.

Joyce was crying when she broke the kiss, but she didn't turn him loose, yet. Looking up at him, she giggled for a second, then struggled with words. "I, uh. Oh, heck," she said accepting a tissue from Diana, "how do you tell someone thank you for saving your life? Anything that I can think of just seems inane. Thank you Jesse. I guess that this sounds stupid, too, but if there is ever anything that I can do for you, all you have to do is say something. I owe you my life. I wouldn't be here without you."

She finally took her arms from around his neck, but still held his hand. Goodman's face looked like it was ready to burst into flames. "Uh, don't make a mountain out of a mole hill. I just happened to get there first. You know that anyone in the department would have done the same thing. And what I did was just the first step. The paramedics, the helicopter people, the nurses and doctors, the police — everyone — did what they were trained to do and then some."

Amazing himself, he leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. "We just want you to get well and teach us to shoot like that," he teased.

Cramer lay back against the pillows of the hospital bed. "I was scared to death that Turcott would move in the wrong direction and I would hit her with my round. He just kept standing behind her with the muzzle of that .44 against her head, raving. I can't get it off my mind. It's like a bad movie that won't stop."

Denver's chief, after shaking hands with Jeff and Diana, had stood back quietly waiting, a smile on his face.

Tate turned and said, "Deputy Cramer, I would like you to meet Chief Janson, Denver's police chief. Chief Janson, Deputy Joyce Cramer."

Chief Janson stepped forward and gently took Cramer's hand as if it would break. "We're terribly sorry that this had to happen to you, but we are thrilled with your recovery. If there's anything that I or my department can do to help, all you need to do is tell us." Handing her his business card, he continued, "My office phone number is on that, and on the back you'll find my personal line there that will bypass all the voice menu that you have to listen to on the other number."

Joyce tried to compose herself, wiping the rest of the tears away, her emotions very raw from the kiss of death that came so near. "Chief, I'm sure I don't know half what your people and you have already done for me. I just saw those two officers on the news pushing my stretcher from that helicopter, and Diana tells me that police blocked intersections for them on the way in. They even went and got me a Whopper that, for some reason, I couldn't get my off my mind."

She sniffed, then scolded herself, "I'm acting like a whimpering woman, and I'm a deputy — a good deputy. I don't know what's wrong with me..."

Chief Janson leaned forward. "Deputy Cramer, don't let the tears embarrass you. Don't ever try to be a male deputy. You're not and never will be. And neither will any of the males ever be able to take your place. If I had just gone through what you had, I doubt if I would be able to sit here and talk to anyone at all. I would probably be a basket case, as they say. Your department, your sheriff, is proud of you, as is every police officer, deputy, or officer of the law in any capacity that has heard about what you did."

Janson smiled again. "If the tears come, let them. My wife says that you have to let it out now and then. I suspect that this is definitely one of those times. I've been in one gunfight, and I didn't do too well. It still haunts me and it was years ago. You survived, kept the young lady that you tried to protect alive, and took out the perp. All I can say is: well done!

"Now, I'm going to get out of here and let you rest and be with your family and fellow officers. You need something; you tell one of those officers standing guard. They'll see it gets done."

He shook Joyce's hand, then everyone else's. When he got to Jeff, he motioned for him to step over to the side of the room so they could talk.

"I almost didn't recognize you," the chief said.

Jeff smiled at him. "I didn't expect you to. The two of us only talked for a few minutes. Captain Bennett handled our business."

"It took me a moment. I knew that I should know you, but I couldn't place you at first, but then I remembered your voice. You saved us several thousand dollars on that order. Captain Bennett said that he tried to get in touch with your company a month or so ago, but the phone had been disconnected. Didn't you tell me that you were an engineer? Did you give up your equipment business to go full-time with the engineering?"

"Well, in a way. I lucked up and sold an invention. We moved out to the Winter Park area a few months ago."

"So you're not selling police equipment any longer?"

"Afraid not. Oh I drop-shipped some ammo to the Sheriff's Department, but that was a gift. I still have my FFL license, and I'll probably buy and sell enough to keep it current, but other than that, I'm not in the business any more."

"Too bad. I thought when I finally recognized you that we might do some more business together. What's your connection with the deputy, if you don't mind my asking? Someone told me that she was your wife."

"No. She's family, but not my wife. Diana," he said, smiling and nodding in her direction, "is my wife."

Chief Janson thought for a moment. "The gal on TV talked about the vests and what the Sheriff said on the news about a 'local resident' that gave his department the new body armor. Yeah ... That was you, wasn't it?"

"Uh, Chief, I'd rather..."

"Okay, my lips are sealed. But now things are beginning to fall into place. She's family and she works for the county. You could have just bought her a new vest and saved a whole shit load of money, though," he laughed.

Jeff grinned back at him. "Yeah, it would have been a bit cheaper."

Chief Janson laughed and slapped Jeff on the shoulder. "See you later. I have to get out of here and get home. My wife is going to think that I'm out with my girlfriend. See you around Mr. Matthews, and if you ever decide to get back into the equipment business, let me know."

"Take care, Chief," Jeff laughed as Janson left the room.

While Jeff and Janson were talking at the side of the room, Joyce had turned to the sheriff. Grabbing his hand, she said, "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, Sheriff. With so many people out sick, then I get into this..."

"What?" Tate said, "Cramer, don't you even think anything like that, and besides," he stopped for a moment a chuckle quietly escaping, "my cell has been having a fit today. Somebody stuck a bur under the council's blanket. Seems like the news media led by a pretty little anchor lady that I know, descended on the council president on the golf course today. She wanted to know why my department was so inadequately funded, claiming that her 'sources' had told her that our poor salary structure was the main reason we were so short on deputies, before this flu thing started."

Tate's grin got bigger. "I can't imagine how she figured out where the council president was playing," he tried to say straight-faced, but didn't quite make it.

Tate smiled thanks to Jeff as he slid a chair over for the sheriff to sit in. Sitting and crossing his legs, Tate continued, "They had an impromptu council meeting — I don't know where. Might have been on the golf course — but I have been notified that I have emergency funds, and ... the assurance that our salary funding is going to drastically increase, very shortly..."

Tate settled back farther and smiled at Joyce. "I have had two of Denver's finest ask if I would approve their transfers if they could get their department to do so. I doubt that Chief Janson will balk. I understand that Denver usually allows transfers, and judging by what the two of them have done on their own today," he said, motioning toward the closed door, "I think I'll tell them on the way out to come and see me Monday and we'll start the paperwork.

"And speaking of the way out," he said, standing, "I'm going that way now. I have a young lady to visit at another hospital," he finished, referring to Turcott.

Turning to Goodman, he handed his keys to the deputy. "There's a trooper waiting outside that said he would give me a ride home. Your lieutenant tells me that you're off tomorrow, having already worked a little extra," he finished, grinning.

"Thank you, Sheriff," Goodman said, "but I'll be home in plenty of time to work tomorrow."

"No! Like I said, you're off," Tate reiterated, "You were up most of the night, and have been here all day." Glancing back at Joyce, he continued, "And, oh yes, Deputy Cramer," Tate said as if it were an afterthought, but certainly wasn't, "As you know, any time a deputy is involved in a shooting, they're automatically on a two-week suspension with pay. Trust me. Yours is just a technicality, for you have nothing to worry about. So when you get out of here, just relax and enjoy yourself if you can. I've been where you are. I'm not going to tell you it's easy, for it isn't. But your job and your patrol car will be waiting for you when those two weeks are over. You don't have to worry about being assigned to a desk while an investigation drags on."

Waiting for a moment while Joyce tried to thank him, he shook his head. "We owe you. You don't have to thank me for anything. You are certainly a credit to our department. Now, if you want to stay on nights, that's great. If you want to go back to days, we'll understand..."

"Nights," Joyce broke in emphatically saying, "At least for now. I'm not going to run."

"Uh, nights it is then," Tate grinned, "but if you change your mind. It's no problem."

Joyce shook her head again. "I won't run from nights like a whipped pup. I won't change my mind."

Tate seemed to want to say something, but it wouldn't come out. Squeezing her shoulder for a second, he turned and left.



-------

Chapter 74


One of the cops finally came back from the bathroom.

"Everything come out okay?" the other cop joked.

"Well, yeah, smartass. But that wasn't what took me so long."

The first cop stepped back to the other side of the door, and the one who had just returned took up his position beside the other.

"Are you going to make me ask?"

"Huh. Yeah, I guess I am. Hey, you know the three guys that went with the group to talk to the administrator?"

"You mean the ones that are coming toward us," the other cop whispered.

"Uh, yeah. Tell you in a minute."

As Wainwright, Dave and Madison spoke to the cops and went on inside the room, the cop glanced at his buddy. "When I came out of the bathroom — uh, it's right next to that little waiting room — they were standing in the waiting room and that guy who just went in first was talking to someone on the phone..."

"His name is Wainwright. He's some big muckety-muck that owns a bunch of companies. Uh, at least that's what the talking head for the TV station told me."

"Yeah, well. Knowing you, you were probably talking to her tits, anyway."

"I was not. Well ... mostly," he admitted. "But damn, she's pretty."

"Anyway, this, uh, Wainwright guy was talking to someone on his cell. Whoever it was, he must be some kind of 'get it done' guy that works for Wainwright..."

"Will you get to the fucking point? You sound like my old man."

"He hired the helicopter pilot," the cop blurted.

"He what? The one that got fired by the hospital?"

"Yep. I heard him tell whoever he was talking to on the phone to find out what the pilot was making and offer him double, and if that didn't work, to, and I quote, 'fucking triple it.' He said that those medevac pilots make crap, anyway."

"You're shittin' me."

"Nope. Honest truth. He told the guy on the phone to set the pilot up with a nice place to live until they could find him a house, and get all his stuff moved. Hell, he went on and on. Damn, I wish he had been talking about me. That pilot just fell out of the shit and into a bed of roses. They were still talking, but one of the guys saw me listening and winked at me. I got the hell on back here before I pissed them off."

"My idea didn't work, even though all those people went to talk to the hospital administrator. But it worked out better, anyway. I'd like to shake that pilot's hand, though, before he goes. We're going to have to find out where he lives and go see him."

"Good idea," the other cop said, grinning. "Somebody here will have his number, and maybe his address. If not, we can get his address from his home phone number. All else fails, we'll just call him up and thank him, but I'm with you. I'd rather see him in person."

They continued to plan.

-------

A little later, Deputy Goodman, tired, was hugged again by Joyce, Diana and Caitlin, then Wainwright and Dave almost shook his hand off. Totally surprising the young deputy, Jeff hugged him so hard he could feel his back pop.

Finally extracting himself, he stepped into the hallway. Yeah, something is going on. Joyce didn't know these people when we went up there to tell them thank you. Now Mr. Matthews almost broke me in half hugging me. And it only takes one look to tell he is about as hetero as a person gets. He wasn't trying to feel me up; he was honestly thanking me for helping Cramer. Why is she staying with them? Suddenly his curious mind — one of the reasons he was a good deputy — began to assemble things. Nah, there's got to be some other reason. But all those women and girls look at him a special way, and Joyce is doing it now.

He saw a gaggle of news media people and what he took to be paparazzi getting off the elevator.

"We'll block them," one of the cops said. "Go the other way. Make the first left and there's another set of elevators, unless you want to be on TV."

"Fuck, no," Goodman said. "Thanks, guys. I owe you one."

"We'll take you up on that," one answered as the cops stepped into the hallway, grinning at their prey.

Goodman jogged away, heedless of the stares of visitors as they saw his gun belt and pistol. Screw 'em,  he thought. If they see my gun then they see my badge since it's on my belt by my holster. So accustomed to wearing it while in uniform, he had forgotten he had the equipment belt on until he saw a woman start as her eyes focused on it.

Now where is that damn elevator? There!

He got on the elevator, punched both 2 and 1, getting off on the second floor. Walking up to the nursing station, he saw the charge nurse. "I've got a bunch of paparazzi trying to take pictures of me. Can you get me out of here? They're bound to be waiting on the first floor for me."

The nurse eyed his bloody hat, taking in his gun belt and jeans. Nice ass, she thought. I don't see a wedding ring.

"You bet, cowboy," she teased, knowing full well who he was. "This way. I'll get you on the elevators that come out on the loading dock. Where's your car?" she asked as they quickly walked down a different hall.

"It's in the emergency room parking lot."

"Okay, I'll ride down with you and show you the way to go." Taking a unit phone out of her pocket, she briefly talked with one of the nurses on her floor telling the nurse that she would be back after showing the deputy out.

On the loading dock, she gave careful directions to get back to the parking lot. As Goodman thanked her, she took a small pad out of her pocket. After writing her name and number on it, she handed the note to him. "Nurses and cops get along well together. If you get bored, call me."

With that, she was gone.

The deputy stood for a moment looking at the closed doors of the elevator. She's a looker. She must have guys fighting to get to her. Why would she want to go out with me? Oh, well, maybe she was just being nice. Turning, he peeked around the corner to make sure he had lost the paparazzi before striking out for the parking lot.

-------

A little later, Caitlin returned after visiting with the nurses in her unit, CICU. Obviously furious, she sat near the bed after kissing Joyce. Jeff was sitting on the couch, while Diana sat on the other side of the bed.

"What gives?" Jeff asked. "Who got on your bad side?"

Caitlin patted Joyce's hand, then relaxed back into her chair. "Oh, it's just a continuation of being pissed at the administrator after he refused to reconsider the thing with the pilot. I had already heard a rumor about this asshole coming in last week about three o'clock in the morning trying to show his authority. I knew he had fired someone but didn't know who."

Absently, she picked up Jeff's coke and took a drink, trying to fight the tears of frustration and anger that were welling up in her eyes. "He walked into SICU (Surgical Intensive Care Unit) at three in the morning, saw Lee Ann drinking a cup of coffee as she was charting at the North desk, and fired her on the spot. He had security 'escort' her out of the hospital and to her car. He wouldn't even let her get her personal stuff out of her locker. Told her to come back the next day after he had inventoried her locker for any 'stolen' items it might contain."

Caitlin swiped angrily at the tears leaking from her eyes. "She was my mentor. There isn't a better nurse, anywhere. She worked extra all the time. She helped the other nurses in the unit and really believes in teamwork. Heck, she's been a charge nurse for years. She's a fountain of information, not just about nursing, but she knows hospital procedures forward and backward. She knows where everything is kept. If you need something unusual — some type of unusual equipment that the doctor has ordered — she always knows where to find it.

"And this asshole fired her for drinking a cup of coffee at the desk. Everybody gets sleepy now and then. Sometimes, we're too busy to take breaks and occasionally even miss lunch. But if things slow down at the wrong time, it's sometimes very hard to stay awake. But OSHA (Occupational Safety Health Act) rules say we can't drink coffee in the unit or at the desk, because we might somehow transfer a disease to a patient or something from them to us, I suppose. Maybe our administrator thinks it doesn't look professional, or we might spill something on a keyboard. But it's always been a rule that's just grinned at, and has never been enforced at our hospital, let alone fire someone for violating it."

Jeff snorted. "You mean those fifteen dollar keyboards they're using? Heck, fifteen dollars is bragging on them. Besides, if someone spills a drink on them, deduct it from their pay. As big as this place is, they probably buy them by the gross," he exaggerated. "I've seen some just like them on the net for ten bucks a piece if you buy ten or more."

"My feelings, exactly," Caitlin continued. "That's a rule that is constantly broken all over the hospital, and most certainly on night shift. How else are you going to stay awake when you're unlucky enough to have a slow shift? And the first thing day shift does when they get here in the mornings, is get a cup of coffee.

"Anyway, this asshole came strutting into SICU, saw Lee Ann at the North desk, asked her name, took her badge, wrote in his little pad, and told her she was fired. Then he called security and had them take her to her car. I'm told that he fired one of the floor nurses on Six West a few minutes later for the same thing. I don't know her, but it's totally ridiculous to fire someone for drinking a cup of coffee at three o'clock in the morning. At worst, it's a counseling offense. If he just has to be an asshole, then take her in the office and give her an oral reprimand. Even that is way beyond ridiculous. Lee Ann has given twenty years of her life to this hospital. Not only is she out of a job, but this will wreck her pension."

Caitlin sat up straight. "Yes. I think I'm beginning to see. I was told that the other nurse he fired was an older nurse, too. They each probably made half again more than I do, since I've only been here two years. He's been on a save-money crusade ever since he was hired six months ago. We now have to pay for parking, many of our supplies are cheap junk that is hard to use and is outdated. I wonder how many other very experienced nurses he has fired that I don't know about?"

Jeff, thinking aloud, said, "I was going to give a donation to the hospital since the doctors and nurses have treated Joyce so well, but with this guy firing the pilot and being so arrogant with you guys when you went to see him, plus this..."

Caitlin looked over at Jeff. "This is an excellent hospital, and most of the nurses really care about their patients, but he's the boss. Corporate fired the other administrator because he spent a large amount of money on some things that didn't work out as planned. At least that is what everyone is saying. We were supposed to get two big name sports medicine doctors. The administrator supposedly made a deal with them. He updated a wing of the hospital and put in a lot of new sports injury related equipment. Something happened and the doctors, and their rich patients, didn't show. Corporate moved him to a desk at corporate headquarters, before easing him out the door. They hired the hatchet man to replace the old administrator and to cut back on expenses.

"The new administrator put a notice on the board that there would be no more overtime, but rescinded it a week later when there weren't enough people to fill the nursing slots. I guess his latest brainstorm is to fire all the nurses with seniority and fill their positions with new grads. It probably looks good on paper, but the patients will be the ones to suffer. Guaranteed the hospital will lose all they have saved and then some when they lose the first lawsuit because a patient has died needlessly."

Caitlin thought for a moment. "I've been in the unit for two years, and I learn something new almost daily. I did a short orientation in SICU before coming to CICU. I saw Lee Ann walk into a room where the patient was suddenly having difficulty breathing. The patient had many things wrong with her, and her nurse was trying to treat those things while calling the doctor. Lee Ann took one look at her and said, 'Sit her up.' Like magic, the patient was breathing a lot better almost instantly. That doesn't work, of course, with every patient, but in a second Lee Ann recognized what was wrong and reacted. That's experience. Nothing will replace that."

Caitlin crossed her legs, swinging one absently while she thought. "Two of the nurses in CICU just told me that they had put in applications somewhere else. If this keeps up, it will be like rats leaving a sinking ship. No one wants to work, spend years putting money into their retirement, then be fired so the hospital can hire new grads at entry-level wages."

Frowning again, she continued, "I need to get in touch with my friend and see what she's going to do."

Jeff cleared his throat before approaching a touchy subject that he had already hinted at. "Maybe this is a good time to consider getting a job that's a little closer to the retreat..."

"She certainly doesn't have to work at all, unless she just wants to," Diana interrupted.

"Yeah, we've already covered that, and I got spanked a bit," Jeff teased.

Turning back to Caitlin, he continued, "What about Winter Park Memorial?"

"Oh, come on, Jeff. I'm an intensive care nurse accustomed to working in a big hospital. We've got equipment here that they can only dream of. I don't want to work somewhere where the policy is to patch up the patients and send them to Denver."

"So, maybe their hospital needs an expansion," Jeff said a little more forcefully than he meant to. Shaking his head, he continued, "Look, I'm sorry. I know that you and Joyce," he said, squeezing Joyce's hand, "have your careers, but please consider a closer hospital. We're going to have to give a certain amount of money each year to charity, anyway. Why not expand the local hospital. It's bound to save lives. Look what a difference it would have made if Joyce could have gone there instead of that long ride to Denver."

Caitlin sighed. "No matter how much money you put into a local hospital, they wouldn't have a trauma unit, anyway. Many big hospitals don't. A trauma unit isn't just a place, it's an expensive on-site team as well."

"Okay, granted," Jeff said, "But you don't work in a trauma unit, you work in a cardiac intensive care unit. Don't smaller hospitals have those, too?"

Caitlin took another sip from her (Jeff's) soda. "Well, it depends on the hospital, the doctors and how much equipment the hospital has, among other things. Some smaller hospitals have, I guess you would call them, combination units. In other words, all surgeries go to their intensive care unit. But cardiologists don't tend to like to have their heart surgery patients in with other surgery patients because of the risk of infection. They wind up with a tradeoff at the smaller hospitals. The larger hospitals are more specialized with the intensive care units. And before you even mention it, I am not going to be a floor nurse. I've studied too much, gone to too many extra schools and classes. I would be bored out of my mine carrying pills to patients.

"I'm not belittling nurses that work on floors. It's just a different kind of nursing, and I love the challenge of an intensive care unit. I know that there are people out there who are alive today because of me. Like Joyce says about being a deputy, I can make a difference."

Jeff looked steadily at Caitlin for a moment. "Nevertheless, please just think about what a difference a few million dollars would make to our little hospital. And I'll bet that they would fall all over themselves to hire an experienced CICU nurse to show them how to do things. With modern up-to-date facilities, it would attract surgeons to the area. Don't try to tell me that there aren't some doctors out there that wouldn't love to live in the Winter Park area if their clientele and the equipment were there. Instead of the golf course, they could go skiing, or snowmobiling," he finished, chuckling. "And ... we've got golf courses aplenty in the summer."

-------

Although Joyce had eaten a steak earlier, a little after 8:00 P.M. she was "famished" again. When Joyce mentioned a chocolate shake, Diana said that she would like to have one, too. Caitlin said that she wanted vanilla. Being a good little husband, Jeff made sure he still had his billfold with him and told them he would be back shortly.

As he stepped out of the room, he spoke to the cops. "Hi guys. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'm just going to walk down to McDonald's and get Joyce and the other ladies some shakes."

One of the cops put his hand on Jeff's arm. "Our relief called and said they were running a little late. We'll just give them a call and tell them to pick up whatever you want on the way in."

"Look, guys. Everybody has been beyond nice, and you two even more so. Please don't call anybody. It will only take..."

"Sir. In all due respect, the chief was very emphatic that if you or the deputy in there wanted something, we were to see that whatever it was got done. In addition to us helping Deputy Cramer any way we can, I understand that you did our department a big favor several years ago. And besides, the folks at McDonald's like us. They always give us half price. Once they find out it is for the deputy that got shot, and her family, I'd be amazed if they don't send several sacks full of stuff, and you can bet your money won't spend in there."

Embarrassed, Jeff tried to say, "I don't want freebies..."

"Freebies aren't the point," the cop insisted. "They'll feel like they are doing something to help. The officers won't ask for anything free, and they will try to pay for it, if that will make you feel any better. But the people at McDonald's already know that Deputy Cramer is here in the hospital and you can bet they'll ask about her when our guys pick up the food. Now let us do this, please. We're feeling helpless enough as it is."

Jeff sighed and handed the cop the little list. "Please don't go overboard. We just want the shakes, and an order of fries to munch on. We've already eaten. But you might get Joyce a cheeseburger. She's hungry again, and can't seem to get cheeseburgers off her mind," he chuckled.

The second cop was already dialing his phone.

-------

Later, they had finished their shakes and fries, with Joyce putting another cheeseburger away as she sat in her bed, her legs folded in front of her. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. "I've never been this hungry in my life. It's embarrassing. It's as though..."

Jeff chuckled at her discomfiture. "It's probably your body trying to replace the energy it used in healing."

Joyce didn't smile back, but rather stared at him, her brow wrinkling slightly. "Just like Jeb and Annie healed so quickly. I've been thinking about that almost ever since I woke up. I'm only a little sore in my chest, and the back of my head is tender," she said, patting the bandage that the doctor insisted should remain in place. "Even a lowly deputy can figure out that isn't normal," she said staring at Jeff. "Of course, I found out how weak I was when I got up to go to the bathroom. It was embarrassing to have to have help. But I'm getting stronger."

Joyce turned to look at Caitlin who suddenly had an inscrutable look on her face.

Diana picked up the french fry boxes and other trash. As she put them in the wastebasket, she spoke to all three, but looked more at Jeff. "When we get home, we're going to have a long talk. Aren't we Jeff?"

Jeff took the last sip from his drink, looked at his first wife for a moment. "Yeah, we're going to have to talk about some things." Turning his attention to Joyce, "After we get home," he cautioned. "Please, just let the doctors gloat about the miracle that they have performed."

Joyce stared hard at Jeff. "Okay. But when we get back to the retreat..."

There was a light triple knock on the door. The two cops who had been with them all day came in to tell everyone that they were leaving. After Joyce thanked them, and they received hugs from the women, Jeff followed them out the door to meet their relief.

After he was introduced to the two new cops, Jeff turned to the original two. "Thank you again for all that you have done..."

One of the cops interrupted, laughing. "What? Standing at the door and keeping the paparazzi away? Bullshit. It was fun."

Jeff stared at them. "Yeah, that, and for making things flow smoothly in the waiting room, and for getting us food and drinks, and ... for pushing that stretcher from the chopper to the trauma unit in record time. And before you can deny it again — I have excellent vision. That was you two that I watched on the news."

The cops looked at each other. "Uh, Mr. Matthews that wasn't anything. It didn't make any difference. It was just all we could do. We didn't know how to help any other way."

"You can't ever tell. Those nurses could never have pushed that stretcher that fast, and seconds may have been all it took."

The cop cleared his throat. "We did very little. That deputy with the blood on him. What's his name? Goodman. He's the one that saved her life. And he blew up his pickup engine on the way over there doing it."

"He what?" Jeff asked, his eyes snapping back to those of the cop.

"Yeah, one of the other deputies said that they had to have his truck towed back to his house."

Jeff brought his billfold out, pulled out business cards and handed one to each of the cops. "Any of you. Any of you who has helped in the slightest way, if you ever need help, call me. Please, pass the word to the other guys. I don't forget. Now go get some sleep, you two," he said smiling at the first two cops. "I think Joyce will be going home tomorrow. They're just monitoring her heart right now. The doctor said he wanted to run one more test in the morning just to be on the safe side, and if things look good, he was going to release her."

-------

At Jeff and Diana's insistence, Dave, Evie and Linda accompanied by Jeb, Annie, Bill and Kathy went to the retreat to take care of things there. The rest of the women came back to visit Joyce. Diana, Jeff and Caitlin went to the hotel to shower and change.

As they were standing in the sitting room of one of the suites just before returning to the hospital, Caitlin took Jeff's hand. "Look, there's no use in all three of us staying there tonight..."

"They've already told us that three of us can stay. That big room has a couch that makes a bed, and the seats go all the way back."

"But ... I'm perfectly capable of taking care of Joyce. I am a nurse, after all. The doctors think she's fine..."

Diana gently took Caitlin's face in her hands, moving close. "You don't fully understand the dynamics of our marriage — of our family. Jeff will be there. You might as well give up on that. He's our Alpha Male, remember? We'll discuss things in depth later, but suffice it to say that I have to be there as well. And we know that you will be, too. You'll understand more when we are in private and have time for all of us to sit and discuss things. For now, just trust us that things have to be the way they are."

"But we haven't married into the family. Why would..."

"My dearest Caitlin," Diana said touching her lips to Caitlin's forehead. "Marrying into our family is a formality to come. Like it or lump it; understand it or not; you and Joyce are part of us. The bond is there. We all feel it, and it will deepen, but we're far past the turning back point, now. Way past."

Taking Caitlin by the hand, Diana turned to Jeff. "Let's get back to the hospital. I don't know how long it will be before the nurse runs everyone off, but I'm tired and ready to get some sleep."

As Jeff opened the door of their suite, Frank was just raising his hand to knock. Jeff grinned and made a sweeping gesture for Frank and Margaret to step into the room.

Wainwright cleared his throat. "Jeff, I hope you won't think I'm trying to take over, or anything. But you were busy and Margaret and I were there when the deputies and cops were taking up money to get the nurses something. We made a couple of suggestions, and well, wound up with the money they collected, and the job. So we're sending flowers and food to the intensive care unit, the trauma team, and to the floor where Joyce wound up..."

"And you added a little to the kitty, I'll bet," Jeff teased. "Thank you, you two."

Jeff could tell by the grin on Frank's and Margaret's faces that there was more. "And..."

"I had Captain Madison and Kathy get in touch with the doctor and nurse of the medevac unit. Seems that they are blaming themselves for the pilot being fired and are thinking about quitting. According to them, he's not the hotshot that the administrator makes him out to be. They say that the landing is as much their fault as the pilot's because they were encouraging him to do his best to get to the trauma unit as fast as possible."

"The doc and nurse thought that ... she was dying," Margaret interjected, her voice breaking.

By now, everyone had taken seats in the sitting room of the suite as Wainwright leaned forward, continuing. "Madison interviewed the pilot and said that both he and Kathy like the guy. Hell, several of my people have been bitching that we need a helicopter of our own. We occasionally rent a chopper and pilot, so I told Tingle to hire him. I left it to Tingle to unscramble the details. When the pilot, uh, his name is Reed, his wife and kid are set up in Saint Louis, he and Madison will buy a helicopter. He'll work for Madison. Be damned if I'll have someone that was trying to save Joyce's life wind up without a job," he finished, vehemently.

Frank stopped, obviously thinking, then, "Wait a minute, I need to call Tingle back. Why don't we see if this guy wants to start his own business? Hell, I'm tired of that commute from the airport to the retreat. A helicopter could do it in just a few minutes. We've used one from time to time in the winter when we had problems with the snow."

Looking at Margaret, he asked, "What do you think?"

"Baby, I don't mind the drive that much. It's you who hates to drive. But a helicopter ride would save a lot of time. He did everything he could to help save Joyce. Why don't you check with him, or have Tingle do it? If he would rather have his own business, then I'm all for it. If not, then start your own and hire him as your pilot. Either way, we get a helicopter ride to the retreat when we come home. Another plus for the pilot is that he won't have to move. Even if you base the flying service in Denver instead of Boulder, he can still pick us up at the Boulder airport. The cities aren't that far apart."

Wainwright was already dialing his cell. After a few minutes of conversation with Tingle, he hung up with a grin on his face.

Jeff frowned at Frank, then teasingly said, "Damn, Frank, you just call Tingle on a Saturday night, expect him to answer his phone and hop to whatever you want him to do?"

"Well, I..."

Margaret broke in, "Tingle knows we respect him, and Frank has made him rich. And unless he's a better liar than I think he is, he loves doing something like this. Besides, Frank sends Tingle and his wife on vacations all over the world, all expenses paid. Frank," she said, lovingly putting her hand on his knee, "will probably tell him a day or two from now to take off a couple of days for starting the ball rolling on this tonight."

"Sorry," Jeff said. "I should have known better. And while I'm at it, thanks you two for all you have done. I don't know what we would have done without you two."

Wainwright leaned back, grinning. "Bullshit. That's what family is for. And we took care of thanking the doctor and nurse on the chopper." His grin getting bigger, Wainwright continued, "Oh, there is one other little thing."

Everyone laughed as Wainwright looked around. "This one's Margaret's," he said nodding to her to continue.

Margaret smiled. "I guess I was running my mouth a little after we found out that the administrator fired the pilot. To make a long story short, one of the nurses from CICU heard me and called me aside. She told me that the CFO (Chief Financial Officer) for corporate was visiting his mother in the unit. His mother had a heart attack the day before."

Margaret reached over and took Frank's hand. "Frank, uh, talked the guy into a short meeting ... I'd rather let Frank tell the rest."

Frank, out of character, seemed hesitant, but as he got into his account of the situation, he became louder. "Well, hell, my accounting department tells me that we're running behind on our gifts to charities," he fibbed, "so, I ... well. I guess I was a little pissed because the pilot was fired. I waved a check in front of the guy's nose with the amount on it that would have gone to the hospital, had that smartass administrator not fired the pilot. I wrote 'VOID' across the check while he watched. Then wrote the CFO out a check for half that with the stipulation that the administrator did not get to 'touch' any of it in any way. I told him, I would check back, and if I couldn't be assured that the administrator hadn't touched the money, that I would never donate again."

Frank stopped, took a breath and grinned, "I had just found out about the nurses, and well, I guess I lost my temper. I made it clear to the CFO that the administrator hadn't saved a dime by firing those two experienced nurses for his little trumped up excuse. I guess I, well ... shook the original check in the CFO's face. By the way he talked — oh you know the usual shit — claiming that he didn't know what was going on, I think that the hatchet man is going to have a bump or two in his own life in the near future."

Wainwright sat back on the couch. "I guess I shouldn't have dumped on the CFO with his mother in an intensive care unit, but then so was Joyce. Anyway, the guy almost begged me for the original amount, promising me that he would put it to good use, but I just told him I would think about it, leaving the rest unsaid. Like do something about this asshole that you call an administrator. I didn't actually say that to him, but he damn sure knew what I meant."

"Damn, Frank. I don't know what to say. This wasn't supposed to cost you money..."

"Bullshit," Frank and Margaret said in unison. They grinned at each other, then Margaret continued, "You made us part of your family. Made the retreat our home. Now this idiot starts firing good people in an organization that is trying to help a member of our family. Did you think that family only goes one way?"

Standing, Margaret said, "You guys go on back to Joyce. We'll ride herd on the rest of your wives and see that nothing happens to them. Not that they need any help. But we'll be here, anyway."

After hugs, Jeff, Diana and Caitlin were soon on the way back to Joyce, though this time it was at a normal speed, and a much shorter distance.



-------

Chapter 75

Jeff pulled the Escalade into the circular drive and under the sheltered area where discharged patients were brought out in wheelchairs. Sheriff Tate had suggested that Joyce not try to avoid the media but instead either give a prepared speech or answer a few questions. Cautioning her that the news people might ask some off-the-wall ridiculous things, like "how does it feel to get shot?" he suggested that she just give a short statement.

Perhaps it had something to do with a number of deputies and cops standing around, but the small crowd of bystanders and media seemed to be extremely respectful of Deputy Cramer.

Caitlin had insisted that she be the one to push Joyce out, and she eased her friend/sister to the microphones that had been set up at her level.

Joyce appeared fragile as she sat in the wheelchair and looked out into the sunlight for a moment before focusing on the job at hand. "I'm flattered," she started with a small voice, "and can't imagine why you're making a big deal out of this. I've certainly been treated well while I've been here — beyond that. But I'm very, very glad to be leaving," she finished with a little chuckle.

There was a titter from the gathering of people around her.

"Seriously, I would like to thank all the people, and all the effort that went into saving my life. My fellow deputies, the paramedics, doctors, nurses, the Denver Police Department, and the helicopter pilot that lost his job because he was trying everything in his power to get me to the trauma unit before I died."

She stopped for a moment to keep her voice from breaking. You're a deputy. Don't fucking cry on TV, she admonished herself mentally.

"And I'll never forget Deputy Jesse Goodman and the woman whose car was stolen, for they stopped my life's blood from spilling away until medical help could get there."

"The news media has been very kind to me, even made me out to be some kind of hero. The fact is that I'm no hero, just another deputy doing my job. A job we're sworn to do. Most law enforcement personnel or departments seldom, if ever, get any recognition. I'm nothing special, but from all of us, I thank you. Now I'm going home with my family to rejoice that I'm alive. Again, thank you for all your support and kindness."

Caitlin backed the chair from the microphones and pushed it toward the Escalade before the questions could start.

Quickly assisting Joyce into the center seat, Caitlin gave the chair to a waiting escort person from the hospital then got in beside Joyce.

As Jeff turned into the street, the Sheriff's car pulled in front of him. When Jeff looked in the mirror, he saw Denver police cars blocking the street behind them, much to the disgruntlement of several paparazzi.

"What the crap are those idiots doing trying to take pictures of us?" Joyce groused as she looked behind them.

"Must have been a slow week," Jeff laughed. "They've been all around and in the hospital. If it hadn't been for the Denver cops, they would have been harassing us. One of the cops told me that two of the paparazzi went to jail for disorderly conduct. Apparently, they shoved a nurse aside trying to get close enough to get a picture of you when the nurses were moving you from CICU to your room. It was a mistake," he chuckled.

"I didn't even realize that it happened. I know that we seemed to go all over before we got to the room, and the nurses told me that they were trying to keep the room number a secret from the media, but I didn't know it was that bad. I thought they just went after actors. I still don't understand what all the big hype is about," she said, looking back."

"Well, you're big news," Jeff continued, "Helen says that she has set the computer to record everything she could. She says that you were on CNN and FOX, but other than the one segment we watched together, I haven't seen anything, either. We didn't want to stress you any more than you already have been."

As they turned onto the interstate, the Sheriff put his Crown Vic in the wind, moving through the light traffic, Jeff following. Three patrol cars stretched out behind them discouraging anyone from getting close to the Escalade. Jeff, Diana, Arlene and Ann were in the SUV with Joyce. The others had left a few minutes earlier.

Diana, sitting in the front, turned slightly in order to look at Joyce. Just as she started to say something, Joyce began silently crying.

Arlene hugged her asking what was wrong.

"It's ... it's Turcott. Uh, I think her first name is Alesha. Goodman tells me she is deaf in her right ear, and apparently all her high frequency hearing in her left ear is gone. That .44 did a job on her when it fired so close to her head. I'm going to get well, but she never will be. And she helped save my life." The tears streamed down her face.

Jeff cleared his throat. "Goodman tells me that her house is still considered a crime scene, and since two agencies, plus the DA's office will be investigating, the house may be off limits for weeks."

Joyce gasped. "Oh, I've been so wound up with myself that I hadn't even thought about that. Where will she go? She's already told me that she doesn't have anyone. She works for a used car lot as their bookkeeper. I doubt if she's making much money. She can't have money enough to rent a motel for the duration. She said she answered the phone at the lot, as well. How is she going to do that if she can't hear?"

"Don't worry," Jeff said. "We'll work something out. Goodman was supposed to go by the hospital this morning and check on her, but when I talked to him, he said he had calls stacked up and hadn't made it yet. She helped save one of my wives, well, soon-to-be-wife, I hope. You can bet we'll take care of her."

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Joyce said, shaking her head and wiping tears. "I don't cry. What the crap is wrong with..."

"You're just being normal, Joyce. You kissed death and walked away," Jeff softly interrupted. "Otherwise macho heart attack survivors often break down crying for no apparent reason and can't understand why, but the cause is their heart attack. You went through a lot worse. "Trust me, if you have any feelings at all, it bothers you."

"And you're still weak as a newborn kitten," Diana interjected. "By rights, you should still be in the hospital, but these days, they kick you out for your family to help finish the recuperation, though in this case they're right. Once we get you home, Jeff will finish the healing."

"Why won't you tell me about that?" Joyce said, her voice stern. "Every time I ask Caitlin, she looks like she's going into shock. What happened to me in there? They ran me through those tests early this morning like they already knew that I was fine. And those doctors made all those remarks, when I was in that intensive care unit, then got really quiet when they discovered that the back of my head was nearly well. I know that something happened to me like it did to Jeb, but I want to know how."

"I saw it, uh, her," Caitlin said further mystifying Joyce. "But I'm not going to try to describe her. You wouldn't believe me, anyway. Crap, I wouldn't have believed me a couple of days ago. Jeff said he would explain when we got back to the retreat..."

"I said that I would explain a little when we get back home. I can't tell you everything; actually very little more than you already know, Caitlin. Your seeing her couldn't be helped. But only my wives, Dave and Evie have seen her. I used her on Jeb and Annie, plus another friend of mine that you haven't met, but they haven't seen her, and she isn't to be mentioned to them. That's an absolute," he said, looking in the mirror at Caitlin and Joyce.

"Her? You're driving me crazy," Joyce said, irritably. "You bring me back, from apparently, the point of death, with her, but oh, wait, we've got to get back to the retreat before we can finish this conversation..."

"That's so you can have a place to lie down, or run in circles, whichever pleases you when Jeff shows her to you. Hell, I may join you," Caitlin said, sounding half serious.

"Oh, well, that just clears it right up," Joyce said in a sneer.

"She's sweet," Ann said from the back seat.

"She's certainly not something to be afraid of," Arlene added squeezing Joyce's hand. "She saved Daddy's life when the bear attacked him. Look closely at Mom and Dad. Particularly Mom and the other women. If Mom ever gets stopped for speeding or something, they'll never believe that's she's thirty like her license says."

"Okay, okay," Joyce sighed. "We've talked some about this before. Well, I tried, but you guys turned the subject away. I'll wait until we get to the retreat, and besides," she said sliding down in her seat and leaning back, "I'm tired. If you guys don't mind, I think I'm going to take a nap."

"We had planned to stop at The Kitchen in Winter Park. We really like the owner and her daughter," Diana said, then wound down when she realized whom she was talking to, remembering that Joyce knew the area intimately.

"Yeah, I love the place," Joyce laughed, "and the wait is always worth it. At least we can sit in the car while we wait. I don't think I'm up to standing for very long just now," she chuckled a bit morosely.

Diana looked concerned, "Maybe we don't need to stop at all, Jeff. Joyce is pretty tired..."

"No," Joyce said, "I would love to stop. At least I won't have to worry about a bunch of cameras."

"Okay," from Jeff. "Why don't you take a little nap, and we'll wake you just before Winter Park? You can decide then whether you want to stop or not."

A moment later Jeff said, "You might want to postpone that nap for a minute or two and wave at these guys. They're going to pass us, and probably turn back to Denver."

The three Denver patrol cars came past them, flashed their overhead lights, then up ahead used the crossover reserved for emergency vehicles to turn back toward the city. As they came back by in the opposing lanes, they hit their sirens and lights for a few seconds and waved again with everyone in the Escalade waving back.

Jeff's cell phone rang. Jeff listened for a moment then said, "Thanks," and hung up.

"Sheriff Tate said that the Denver guys sent their best wishes for a speedy recovery. He told them thanks for you."

The next time Jeff looked in the mirror, Joyce was sound asleep.

-------

After meeting up with the rest of Jeff's wives and eating at the little restaurant, they were just leaving The Kitchen and were getting into their vehicles in the parking lot when Deputy Goodman called. After talking for a while, Jeff asked Goodman to hold. Muting the phone, he turned to the others.

"Problem," he said, looking at Diana. "Goodman says Turcott will be discharged soon. The clothes she was wearing when they brought her to the hospital are covered in blood. She has no clothes and nowhere to go."

As Diana started to answer, Arlene took the phone from her father. Activating it, she asked to speak to Turcott. When Goodman said that Turcott had a hard time hearing on the phone, Arlene told him to tell Turcott to just tell Arlene all her sizes, repeating so that Arlene could make sure she had everything right. Jeff got the idea and pulled a scrap of paper and a pen from his pocket. Arlene tucked the phone between her head and shoulder, spread the paper out on the hood of the Escalade and began to write.

After a moment, she asked, "What room are you in?" Then after a pause when Goodman was given the phone, repeated the question. Pausing for a moment, she continued, "Okay, we'll be there with enough clothes to get her to the retreat. Joyce is with us as you know." Still speaking to Deputy Goodman, she continued, "Please tell Ms. Turcott all about us so she'll be comfortable with us. We'll see you in a little while."

Hanging the phone up, she handed the pen and phone back to her dad. "I've got some clean jeans and a top in my bag that will fit her, I think, but we're going to have to get her underclothes, anyway. We might just as well get her a quick couple of changes of everything so she will have her own clothes, then we can go shopping with her after she's been healed," she matter-of-factly said.

"Fine," Jeff answered, "Diana can go..."

"No," Arlene interrupted. "Laura, Ann and I will go get Ms. Turcott..."

Jeff wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he smiled at her, "Come on Baby. I know you're an adult mentally, but chances are good that the hospital is going to want money when she checks out. I doubt that car lot she works for has decent insurance — if any at all. I want to pay her hospital bill. It would be better if your mother..." That's when he really noticed Arlene's eyes, and wound down.

Diana stood with an amused look on her face as her daughter failed to back down.

"Oh, I know I'm not old enough to sign a legal document, but my debit card works just fine, anyway, and so does my Visa. I've never been challenged the first time, even for the credit card. And if there is paperwork to sign, Laura can do it, or Turcott."

Jeff was still mulling over things, not sure why it seemed to matter to Arlene, as everyone separated into the appropriate vehicles and left to go their different ways.

As Laura pulled out in front of him, Jeff checked again for traffic and turned toward the retreat. "Why was that such a big thing to her?" he quietly asked Diana.

"You made her a woman. She's acting like one."

"I didn't make her a woman, Jack did," he said without thinking.

Diana's quiet voice would cut ice. "Jack raped her innocence. You made her a woman. Don't you ever, ever say something like that in front of her. It will destroy her soul. She loves you beyond her own life."

"Oh shit," Jeff said. "I didn't mean to say it that way. I just meant..."

"Hush before some of the others figure out what's going on. I know you didn't think before you said it. Just let it go."

"But what's going on? Why would she want to get Turcott out of the hospital? You know darn well that will be a hassle. There will be a ton of paperwork that the hospital has to do all of a sudden, even though they knew when she would be released. Then hurry up and wait."

Diana chuckled. "The hospital bureaucracy might just be in for a shock, then. Since Arlene hasn't done this before, she will probably think they're messing with her because of her age. And...  she has her father's temper..."

"I don't have a temper," Jeff indignantly said.

"Oh suuurre you don't," Diana said, drawing out the word. "And you don't snore, either."

Jeff glared at her for a second before looking back at the road. "I do not snore," he defended, louder.

Apparently everyone in the vehicle heard that, because they all laughed, even Joyce and Caitlin.

Jeff mock glared at them in the mirror. "You don't know anything about my supposed snoring."

"Oh, yes we do," Caitlin chimed in. "A little birdie told us."

"Birdies lie," Jeff said under his breath, but only loud enough for Diana to hear. Her sniggering didn't help his mood any.

-------

After a mad mini shopping spree before going to the hospital, Arlene, Ann and Laura were introduced to Turcott by Deputy Goodman as they entered the hospital room.

Goodman leaned over and kissed Turcott on the forehead as she lay in her bed. "I've got to go."

Turcott hugged him. "We did a pretty good job together. I hate to see you leave. I'm anxious to see Deputy Cramer, though, so I can tell her how sorry I am that idiot ex-boyfriend on mine shot her. I can't believe I was stupid enough to have anything to do with him. And look what it caused Deputy Cramer ... Oh, I don't know what I'm going to say when I see her. I hope she's going to be fine, like you say."

"Oh, shush," Arlene said. "Oh the way up here, she was worried to death about you. Now let's get the paperwork done and get you out of here."

Goodman obviously had to leave, but just as obviously, didn't want to. "I've got a wreck report to finish, and two more report calls holding." Hesitating, he looked at Turcott. "Uh, Alesha, would it be okay if I gave you a call sometime. I mean, to make sure you're doing okay."

"Sure," she said, her face lighting up. "I don't know how well I'll be able to hear on the phone. But you're welcome to come see me, anytime. Of course, I don't know exactly..."

"She'll be with us," Arlene broke in just as Alesha started to speak.

"Absolutely," Laura seconded.

"Okay, that's good," Goodman said. "Mr. Matthews has already asked me to come see him as soon as I can, so I guess I'll see you on — what is it? Matthews mountain?" he laughed.

"We just call it home, or the retreat," Ann said.

"Okay, I'll give you guys a call and come visit at the retreat as soon as I can."

-------

"You like him don't you?" Arlene said as she and the others threw their packages on the bed.

Alesha looked toward the door that had just closed behind Goodman. "Yeah, he's a nice looking guy. And better than that, he is a nice guy. But I'm used merchandise. I was screwing that idiot that shot Deputy Cramer, and I lived with a guy in Denver. Jesse would never be interested in me. He probably has more girlfriends than he can count, anyway."

Ann smiled at Turcott. "I don't know much about Deputy Goodman, but I do know that the two of you saved our sister. And besides that, he sure looks at you like he thinks you're something special. As far as past boyfriends go, I doubt if he'll care. I sure can't imagine a good-looking guy like that still being a virgin at his age, so he can't expect you to be."

"Maybe so," Turcott sighed, "but it will get old really quick having to talk as loud as you guys are having to in order for me to hear. Kinda cancels out the 'sweet nothings' that lovers are supposed to whisper in each other's ears," she finished, fighting the tears in her eyes.

"Don't count yourself out, yet," Arlene said, thinking of the healer.

Just then the phone rang. "I can barely hear it ring," Turcott said. "Would one of you get it? The office was supposed to call when they had my paperwork ready."

Arlene picked up the phone and listened for a moment. "Okay, we'll be right down," she said, hanging up.

Arlene turned to Ann. "Would you stay with Alesha while Laura and I go down and bail her out?"

"Sure," Ann laughed. "We'll have a ball dressing her in her new clothes."

-------

In the business office a few minutes later, Arlene ran head-on into the bureaucracy when the woman at the desk kept trying to talk to Laura who was standing behind Arlene. When they finally got past that and the woman condescended to talk to Arlene, she put the bill down on the desk with a smug look on her face.

Arlene glanced at it. "I need an itemized statement of all charges."

"That isn't normal procedure," the woman said, a snotty look on her face.

"I want an itemized bill, discounted at the same rate that you would for an insurance company."

"That's preposterous," the woman sneered. "We don't discount for individuals."

"Well, we've already got one lawsuit on behalf of Carla Chalmers against a hospital in Denver for the same thing. I'll bet the lawyer would be overjoyed to include this place as well. I stand ready (she remembered hearing her father used that phrase) to pay the bill in full right now — the properly discounted bill, that is. Even so, I'm not paying anything without an itemized statement for every charge. I want to know how many aspirins you charged fifty dollars apiece for."

"Well, I never..." the woman started when her boss, a tall woman of about fifty, put a hand on her shoulder.

"May I see you for a moment?" the office manager said.

"Uh, yes. I guess so."

Glaring back at Arlene, the clerk turned to follow the older woman.

A moment later inside the office manager's office. "That impertinent teenager says she is going to pay the bill for Ms. Turcott in 204..."

"I think you need to slow down just a moment, Catherine."

"But she is demanding that we give her an itemized statement and discount everything on it just like we would for an insurance company..."

"And what did she say?"

"She said that her lawyer would be glad to sue us just like he was doing for some other person."

"And who was that other person?"

"Uh, some Chalmers or something, I think."

"The same Chalmers that is suing the bank and the real estate office. The banker that is now running from the authorities as best I remember?"

"Uh..."

"Let me ask you something, Catherine. How much of the bill do you suppose Ms. Turcott is going to pay? She gave her employment as a bookkeeper for a car lot. What do you suppose her salary is there? We discussed her insurance policy this morning, did we not? We decided that we would be lucky to get anything out of them — at all. If I remember correctly."

"Uh, I, uh ... Yeah."

"So now, would you rather have a lawsuit, pay our attorney thousands of dollars to argue over the bill in court, or take the same thing we were trying to get out of the insurance company? Seems to me that I heard the young lady just say that she was prepared to pay, now."

"Uh, so you want me..."

"To go kiss her ass if need be!" the office manager snarled, "But before that you need to look out in the parking lot."

The clerk, her face white, brushed back the curtain and looked out.

"What do you see?"

"Well, just a few visitor's cars."

"Just 'a few visitors' cars' is all you notice? There are several Escalades around here, but that one on the end closest to the building surely looks familiar. It was just last week that you were talking about the rich people that moved into that hotel on the mountain. That young lady isn't blowing smoke. Now discount the damned bill and talk to her like she's a grown woman. She would probably consider our combined salaries, for a year, as just pocket change. Now move! And remember, you can bet that she'll turn that bill over to their accountant or lawyer as a matter of routine. Those people are paid to make sure their clients aren't screwed over, so do it right. I'll calm the young lady down while you get the bill ready."

Things went quite smoothly after that.

-------

The ride up the mountain wasn't anything unusual for Turcott since she had lived in the area for a while, but the ride up the driveway was. Laura had tried to prepare her for it.

Just before they turned in the drive, Laura had said, "You've had enough trauma in your life lately, so I don't want this to be too much of a shock. Our driveway works its way up a near vertical cliff, and well ... the view, if heights bother you, can be pretty intense the first time. So, you might want to just look to the inside, particularly as we make the switchbacks."

"Heights don't bother me much," Turcott started, but her voice trailed off as she got her first look at the abyss. Her comments weren't a great deal different from other first-timers, but they were louder, because she couldn't hear herself very well with her hearing problem. In normal conversation, she tried to focus on keeping her voice low — or what seemed to her to be low — but the distraction of the drop-off made her forget. Everyone smiled, but no one laughed at her.

About halfway up, Turcott realized what she had been doing and apologized.

Arlene turned to grin at her. "You should have heard our teacher when she came up the first time. It was night and I was with her. Of course, I had been kidding her about my getting to drive if she balked on the driveway. We were beginning to think that she wasn't going to be able to get out of the car when she got to the parking lot.

"We're all very careful when we drive up or down it, but the guy, Dave, who built the driveway says that it would be impossible to drive one of these Escalades through the guardrails."

Turcott caught sight of the retreat, the driveway forgotten. "Oh, my gosh. Jesse told me about this place, but..."

Turcott suddenly looked flustered — far more ill at ease than she had been when she had been helping to save Joyce's life. "Uh, I'm ... Look, that's a beautiful place, uh, expensive ... I'm just..."

Ann grabbed Turcott's left hand while Arlene reached back to take her right, both girls aware of what was bothering Turcott.

Ann squeezed her hand. "We never had very much before moving here. Any of us. Jeff and Diana got this place as part of a deal when he sold his invention. Yes, it's beautiful, and it's huge. You'll have your own suite with everything you could find in the most expensive hotels — and more. But it will be your home until you get your house back, and anytime you want to visit — for any length of time.

"We owe you everything," Arlene added. "Nothing we do could even begin to pay you back. You saved Joyce."

As they pulled to a stop behind the retreat, Laura shut the motor off and turned in her seat. "I had Ann when I was very young. We had nothing. I finally got through college and worked my way up in my company, only to suddenly find out that it was sold and I no longer had a job. The only person that you will see here that was born with a silver spoon in his mouth is Frank Wainwright, the original owner of our home. He and his wife — well soon-to-be-wife — live here on the weekends.

"Although his father had everything, he made Frank work at a minimum wage job while he attended high school — public school. Made him buy his car, clothes, pay for his dates — most things — and put back a certain amount as well. This to teach him a good work ethic and the value of money. He's a workaholic, even now with his billions. He won't talk down to you, and everyone here will treat you with respect."

Laughing, she continued, "Diana makes damn sure we don't get too full of ourselves. We cook our own meals. And I mean all the women. We also do a lot of the cleaning. Everyone has their, uh, chores," she laughed. "And we eat together at a working person's time. Breakfast is usually at six. Now come on. Hold your head up and be proud, for you have saved the life of one of us. Let's go meet everyone and show you where you're going to live until things get settled for you."



-------

Chapter 76


As they got out of the SUV in back of the retreat, it was obvious that Turcott was having problems. Laura had parked as close to the door as she could, but Alesha was unsteady on her feet as she stood up from the vehicle.

Ann took one look and frowned. "I'll run get the wheelchair."

"I don't need that," Alesha protested. "It's just that I've been dizzy ever since this happened. I don't know if it is caused by him slamming my head against the wall, or that gun going off next to my ear. The doctor called it vertigo. Sometimes it's worse than others. Just let me stand still for a moment, and it will get better."

By the time Laura and Arlene got Turcott into the mudroom, Ann was back with the wheel chair — and Diana.

"No, I can walk. I just get really dizzy sometimes. It comes and goes," she said, but they managed to get her to sit in the chair, anyway.

Diana put out her hand. "Hi. I'm Diana. Of course you don't know me, or any of us except for Joyce, and her for only a few minutes before all the bad things happened. But please believe this," Diana said leaning down and hugging Turcott. Pulling back a little, but with her face still close, "You helped to save the life of one of us and we are eternally grateful. To say that you're welcome here is an understatement."

Standing up and taking Turcott's hand, Diana continued. "We can never repay the debt we owe you, but that's not going to stop us from trying. You're going to be introduced to a number of people. They're all part of our family. It isn't our intention to overwhelm you or make you uncomfortable, but we want to make you understand that you are now very, very high in our esteem."

Turcott continued to protest, saying that she had only helped Jesse with the pressure bandage on Joyce's head, that she hadn't really done anything.

"'Only helped, '" Diana quoted, "to save our very special friend's life. Enough of that for now. Let's talk about things less stressful. We'll get you in your suite and into bed. You'll feel better tomorrow," Diana said with total conviction in her voice as she thought about the healer. "We'll bring you a nice meal in a little while..."

"Could I please see Deputy Cramer?" Alesha asked trying to look up into Diana's face as Ann began pushing her down the long hall.

"Sure," Diana replied, "That's where we're heading now. She's in the living room, still a little weak, like you."

As they turned into the living room, Joyce, who was sitting on a couch, her wheelchair parked nearby, stopped talking in mid-sentence. As soon as Ann pushed the chair near Joyce, she stood and grabbed Turcott in a hug.

After a tearful reunion where each woman thanked the other for saving her life, Arlene introduced the rest of the immediate family, keeping Jeff for last. Jeff hugged her as everyone else did, but Turcott didn't react to him in any noticeable manner, since he had locked down on his pheromones and mental push.

After talking with everyone for a while, it was obvious that Turcott was tired and not feeling well. When Arlene asked her, Turcott agreed that she would like to lie down. As they left the living room with Arlene pushing the wheelchair this time, Ann and Laura walking on either side, Turcott fretted, "Jesse said he would come to visit me when he got off work. I don't want to go to sleep and miss him. If I could just lie down for a few minutes, I'll feel better, I think. A lot of the dizziness seems to go away when I close my eyes for a while."

Arlene leaned over a little, addressing Turcott, "Oh, we won't let you miss him. If you go to sleep, we'll wake you when he gets here. The suite has a nice sitting room where you two can be alone to talk as long as you like, or you can visit with him in the living room if you had rather, and feel like it. Mom just told me that she has stocked the refrigerator with soft drinks and snacks. If Jesse will stay for dinner, and you're up to it, we can all eat together in the kitchen, otherwise, you can eat with him in your suite, if you prefer. We have all the latest movies. If you want to, you can watch a movie with him."

"I don't know what to say. You shouldn't be going to all this trouble for me."

"Oh, poo. It isn't any trouble, and I think that Jesse likes you. It surely seemed like he did back at the hospital."

"Do you think so? Oh, but remember what I said while we were in the room. He won't be interested in me. He's bound to know by now that it was my ex-boyfriend that shot Deputy Cramer..."

Ann gave a little laugh. "I don't think he's bothered by any ex-boyfriends you might have. And one of them surely isn't going to bother anyone. Joyce saw to that. Besides, it surely did look like Jesse could hardly take his eyes off you at the hospital."

"Yeah," Arlene laughed as Ann held the door to a suite open for them. "If he's driving all the way up here to see you right after he's visited you at the hospital ... Seems like he's showing a little more than just a casual interest in your health."

Turcott sighed, but didn't answer. When they got to the couch in the sitting room, she got slowly to her feet. "Oh, my. This is so nice." Looking around for a moment and commenting on the furniture, she sat and opened a small white sack that she had been holding with her purse. "Could I have something to drink? That nice doctor gave me some samples because he knew that the drugstores would be closed on Sunday in the area and I wouldn't be able to get a prescription filled today."

"Sure," Ann said, going to the small refrigerator to get her a coke.

Opening a plastic tab that contained a pill, Turcott continued, "He said I was supposed to start the antibiotic as soon as I got home, and take this other pill twice a day for the vertigo."

After taking both types of medicine, she took another sip of drink and relaxed into the soft leather of the couch. "Everyone has been so nice. One of the paramedics went back into the house and got my purse out of the kitchen before we left in the ambulance. Jesse told me that they found my car in the bushes about a quarter mile away. Keys were in it, so I guess that Crawford must have made a copies that I didn't know about. After they fingerprinted the car, one of the deputies drove it back home for me. Jesse brought the keys when he came to visit."

Looking at the medicine boxes again, she said, "The doctor gave me the name of an ear, nose and throat specialist who I'm supposed to call for an appointment to see if there is anything he can do for my hearing. I just hope this sorry insurance company will pay for it. It surely cost enough, but with just a few employees at the car lot where I work, we apparently didn't wind up with much of a policy."

Alesha's eyes pooled with unshed tears. "I've really messed myself up this time. First, that idiot I lived with in Denver, then I got involved with yet another idiot. Now I'm half deaf. Oh, how did this happen?" she said, putting her face into her hands and leaning forward. "What am I going to do? I answer the phone at Lennie's and keep his books for him. I can barely tell that someone is saying something when I put a phone to my left ear, and with my right ear, there's nothing at all, no matter how loud the noise is."

Fighting to not sob, "I don't have anybody. How am I going to make a living with what little hearing I have left? I can't afford a hearing aid. Those things are extremely expensive."

Laura quickly sat with her. Taking Turcott in her arms, she hugged her. "I know that you can't believe this right now, but everything is going to be all right."

"But Lennie will fire me, if he hasn't already. Saturday is our big day at the lot and I wasn't there, and I didn't call in. I was mostly asleep all day yesterday from something they gave me at the hospital for the dizziness and nausea. By the time I woke up enough to realize what was going on, it was past closing time at the lot. I'm sure that when I didn't show up, he fired me. He doesn't give a shit about anybody. He yells at all his employees, me included. If anyone ever messes up in the slightest way, he just fires them."

"What did you do other than answer the phone?" Laura asked, just to break the silence that dragged out.

"Oh, I managed to take a couple of courses in accounting before the guy I was living with in Denver made me quit. I talked my way into this job at the car lot and moved out here to get away from my live-in. I've been using QuickBooks to keep Lennie's accounts for him, and I answer the phone. Heck, keeping his books isn't hard; anyone who's reasonably computer literate can do it with the software."

She tried to smile at Laura. "He sells cars, mostly, but he has a small mechanic and body shop there as well. That's where I got my car. It had been wrecked, but the owner never did come and pay for it after it was fixed. Lennie sold it to me for what he had in it. Truth is, he probably thought he was going to get in my pants, but when he found out that wasn't going to happen, he started treating me like he does all the other people working for him. In other words, yelling at me like I was a dog or something. But I don't really have any job skills, so I have to put up with it."

Laura smiled back at Alesha. "You don't have to worry about him yelling at you any more..."

"I can't just come into your wonderful home and take your charity. I just need to find another job that I can do..."

"What about college?" Arlene asked. "Would you like to go back?"

Alesha chuckled, but made it sound a little morose. "I would love to go back. But even if I could, I wouldn't be able to hear the instructor well enough to get by. Maybe I'll be able to get a hearing aid sooner or later. But right now, I guess I just need to concentrate on getting another job. One where I don't have to talk on the phone."

Laura and Arlene now flanked Alesha on the couch, with Ann sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

Laura smiled at Turcott. "Do you feel like getting a shower and shampooing your hair, if we helped you? We can fix your hair and maybe assist you with your makeup so that you'll look really nice when Jesse gets here."

Alesha's eyes lit up. "Yeah. I think I can do that, but I can fix my own hair ... And I don't have any makeup with me. I don't have anything except what you wonderful people bought for me. Jesse said it might be a week before I can get back into my house."

"Nonsense," Laura broke in. "We would love to help. We do each other's hair all the time. We'll go slowly, and if you get dizzy, you can take a break. And trust me, there's enough makeup around this place to sink a battleship — at least that's what Jeff says," she laughed. "As pretty as you are, we'll have you looking fabulous in no time."

Turcott giggled a little. "Okay, I'll try," she said as she got to her feet, a little wobbly, but they got her into the wheel chair and headed for the shower.

-------

Later, Jeff, Dave and Deputy Goodman sat in the living room. Turcott was taking a nap while Jeff's wives, Margaret, Evie, Linda and Annie were fixing supper. Madison, Wainwright and Jeb had gone for a walk.

" ... Okay," Jeff laughed. "We'll dispense with the 'Deputy Goodman, ' but remember, it goes both ways. Jeff and Dave, or we go back to the Deputy routine."

"Sorry," Jesse said. "But like I said before, part of our policy is to refer to everyone we meet on duty as Mr., Mrs., or Ms. It gets to be a habit. I'll try, uh, Jeff."

Diana and the girls walked by the door, and Diana winked at Jeff.

Jeff smiled at her and turned back to Jesse. "They're going to get Alesha up and dressed. If she feels like it, they'll bring her to the kitchen to eat. Otherwise, she wants you to eat with her in her suite."

Jeff, sitting with his legs crossed, uncrossed them and leaned toward Jesse who was sitting on a couch only a few feet away. "I hear that you blew your engine getting to Joyce..."

"Well," Goodman broke in, "the truck is an old Nissan four cylinder. It belonged to my grandfather. When he went to the nursing home, I bought it from him. I've put a lot of miles on it since then, and it certainly wasn't new when I got it, either. It was just its time. I pushed it beyond what it was still capable of doing. I redlined it and it started knocking just before I got to Alesha's place. It was going to go sooner or later, anyway."

"Yeah," Jeff said, "'sooner or later.' But I suspect that you babied that truck and it would have lasted a long time if you hadn't have had to stress it like that."

Goodman chuckled, obviously uncomfortable. "Like I told Joyce, don't make a mountain out of a mole hill. We've backed each other up on some bad calls. She would have gone to the wall for me in a heartbeat..."

"I saw on the security system that you're in a pickup, a Chevy 1500."

"Yeah, my dad let me borrow his until I can have the motor rebuilt in mine."

"You're not going to buy a new truck?" Dave asked, knowing the answer.

"Are you kidding? On my salary? I'm going to have to wait a little while before I can fix ... uh..." he wound down, realizing what he was saying, afraid that Jeff was going to offer him money.

Jeff frowned, knowing exactly what Jesse was thinking, but trying to come up with a way of replacing Goodman's truck. Doggonit, I know that he's too damn proud to let me buy him a truck, but he saved Joyce's life, and now he's hurting because of it. And from what Arlene says, Turcott is going to be the same way. She just wants to find another job so she can buy a hearing aid. I've got to help them, both of them — somehow — while still allowing them to salvage their pride.

"How long have you been with the county?" Dave asked as Jeff continued to think about the situation.

Little One will fix Alesha's hearing problem tonight, and she wants to finish with Joyce. Looks like I won't get much sleep, but I can live with that. At least I'll be able to do a little for Alesha by having Little One take care of her, and surely, we can come up with a job for her. Yeah, and she's going to suddenly come into contact with a foundation that will put her through school, if that's what she wants, but how in the hell am I going to get Jesse a set of wheels? Money running out my ass and I can't even help the person that saved my new wife. Shit.

Jeff sat, barely paying attention to the conversation, as his mind toyed with the new problem.

The intercom buzzed. When Jeff picked up the phone, Diana quietly said, "Alesha was really dizzy when we woke her. She's a little better now, and we have her dressed and her hair refreshed, but I don't think she's up to a meal with the rest of us. The girls are preparing food for the two of them and will carry it to the suite. You should probably have Jesse come down when the girls bring the meal." Then more quietly she continued in a teasing voice, "She cleaned up really nice. Jesse is going to have a stroke." Giggling, she hung up.

Later, they sat at the table, the family back together again. As conversation quieted for a moment, Diana said, "We're going to have to have Carla, Jessica and Fred up for at least a meal, preferably to have them spend a day or two with us. I haven't even talked to them in several days."

Jeff took a swallow of tea, then looked over his glass at his first wife. "Yeah, we worked our butts off, but we had a good time with the farm, didn't we? And speaking of farms, I imagine the call on the answering machine from the lawyer means that they are ready to sign the papers on the Thompsons' farm. I'll have to call back first thing in the morning..."

The kitchen door opened and Alesha came through in the wheelchair pushed by Jesse.

Jeff turned to look at the couple. Diana is right. She is pretty as she can be. Amazing what relieving a little stress and fixing her hair did. I imagine there's going to be a lot more difference when Little One gets through with her. According to Arlene, Alesha doesn't think she's good enough for Jesse because she's lived with a guy and been involved with the idiot that tried to kill her. Hah, even I can tell that's bullshit by just looking at Jesse. Looks like we're going to have a regular visitor until Alesha can get back into her house.

Smiling, Jeff stood, as did all the men. "Hi, Alesha. There are several people whom you haven't met yet. Okay, to my right..."

-------

Late in the evening, Jeff, his wives along with Joyce and Caitlin sat in the living room. Jesse had left hours ago when he realized that Alesha was tired, but had promised that he would be back tomorrow after work.

Jeff had already spent a couple of hours with Alesha while Little One sat over first one ear, then the other, the woman fast asleep. Tomorrow would be an exciting day for her when she discovered that she was so much better, but her full hearing wouldn't be back for a couple of days. Jeff had talked to the healer about this, and she had completed the major part of the healing, but left some for Alesha's body to do on its own, albeit enhanced by the healer, so that the recovery would seem more normal.

At Jeff's suggestion, the girls brought snacks and drinks into the living room. Seeing that everyone was settled, Jeff got up and closed the door. After instructing the computer to warn them if anyone walked down the hall toward the living room, he said, "Let's everyone gather close by."

The women pulled chairs close, while the girls sat on the floor. Jeff smiled at his wives, thinking how lucky he was. Turning to Joyce, he started. "All my wives know about, and have seen Little One many times, have become friends with her to the extent they can be with the language barrier involved."

"Little One?" Joyce said.

"Yeah, 'Little One, '" Caitlin repeated, fighting to not giggle. "You're going to sh... , uh, crap on yourself when you see her?"

Jeff turned to Caitlin as the room grew quiet. "Why don't you tell her what happened at the hospital?"

Caitlin looked astonished. "You've got to be kidding me. She'll never believe..."

Jeff shook his head. "Just go ahead, please. We'll help you out."

Caitlin and Joyce were sitting side by side on the couch. Taking Joyce's hand, at first looking a little uncertain, Caitlin told about their ride to Denver, and Jeff's admonition to get him with Joyce for an extended period of time without hospital personnel being around.

"I thought he was nuts, but he, uh, somehow convinced me that I should do that, and it turned out to be fairly easy after all. Someone got the idea that he was your husband when you kept asking for him, and well ... it worked out."

Caitlin stopped talking for a moment, then sighed. "You were a lot worse than we've admitted to you." Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared at her lover. "Oh, I guess you would have recovered, if ... you had managed to live for the next forty-eight hours or so ... maybe. The damage to your heart was severe, as well as the bleed in your brain, and well, things could have gone either way. No telling how long the recuperation would have been, or ... how successful it would have been, either. Whether you would have been able to go back to work or not ... Oh, well, it didn't happen. Little One took care of that."

Joyce knew that Caitlin was serious; the tears in her eyes were evidence of that. She shook her head, "You're not making sense," she said, squeezing Caitlin's hand. "Who is this 'Little One?' Is that a nickname for some doctor that I didn't meet?" She looked around her at Jeff's wives. "You guys are scaring me."

"Yeah, well, you're not by yourself. When I saw her come out from under the sheet, she scared the crap out of me." Laughing, Caitlin added, "If I hadn't just gone to the bathroom, that might have been a literal statement."

"Alright. Alright, I'm beginning to think that you're pulling my leg, even if you did have tears in your eyes a moment ago..."

Jeff had turned away, but when Joyce glanced back at him, she forgot what she had been saying as her eyes focused on the healer who was now sitting on Jeff's lap.

"This is what healed you," Jeff quietly said. "I can only tell you a little about her. Actually, I'm somewhat violating my oath even in showing her to you, although I do have permission for my wives."

Jeff held the healer out a little toward Joyce. All she saw was a somewhat innocuous, almost translucent, rectangular object with rounded corners, a little bigger than a thick paperback novel. "This is her 'normal' state, but she has the ability to change her appearance and size as she did with you to cover your injury."

Joyce looked at Jeff like he had lost his mind. "That is what made me well?"

"She's an alien," Caitlin broke in. "She can..."

"An alien?" Joyce said, trying not to laugh. "Hey, I'm the one who reads science fiction, not you," she grinned at her lover. "Is she an illegal alien, or did she get her visa?" she kidded. "She looks like a big blob of plastic that someone tried to form into a thick rectangle."

She doesn't believe you're real,  Jeff mentally told the healer.

A thin tendril extended, so fine that Joyce didn't even notice it, although she was looking directly at the healer. After a couple of seconds, a faint blue glow surrounded the tip. Joyce felt a rustling in her mind. As she stared, Little One was suddenly surrounded by what appeared to be a mist as hundreds of the tendrils moved about with lightning speed.

Joyce gasped, putting her hands to her temples as the feeling in her mind intensified, then suddenly quit.

Jeff cleared his throat, waited. Joyce looked over at him when the tendrils disappeared. "In her own way, she just told you that she had been honored to heal you," Jeff said, knowing that the words only partially conveyed the emotions and concepts that Little One had tried to send.

"She's real? Really alive?" Joyce asked quietly. "She really healed me?" Startling everyone, herself included, she put out her hand, stopping just short of touching the healer. Joyce chuckled, "I almost asked if she would hurt me. I guess that's ridiculous considering that she's supposed to have healed me."

Moving her hand the remaining short distance, she touched the healer with her fingertips, then stroked her like she might a cat. "She's warm. I expected it to feel like a block of plastic, but her ... skin, whatever, gives as I touch it like something alive..."

"She, not it," Helen broke in.

"She," Joyce repeated. "Sorry. Uh, that buzzing in my head. Was she really trying to talk to me?"

"Yeah," Jeff quietly said, "but she's ... attuned only to certain individuals, I guess you could say."

"To Alpha Primes, we think. And maybe some others," Diana said. "But don't hold me to that. I may not be right. But Arlene and I can understand her a little. Well mostly just emotions, but sometimes we get concepts. All of us — all of us wives can at least feel some emotions from her. Contentment, something that's probably love according to Jeff — even worry — sometimes a little more."

"But you're saying that Jeff can communicate with her?" Joyce asked

"Yeah, I can, but certainly not as well as I would like. Her creators were, or are, telepathic. The whole concept of a vocal language is foreign, almost ... barbaric to her, and to them, I suppose."

"What do you mean? Are you saying that you don't know whether this ... race exists?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Although she has learned to keep track of time using our measuring system, it's a whole other ball game when we try to discuss her creators. There isn't just time involved..." Mentally, he added, No there's more. Once she tries to discuss what I think are dimensions, I can't seem to unravel them from her concepts of time.

"Where did you get her? Were we visited by aliens like those weird articles you see at the checkout counter in the grocery store? I can't believe that crap."

"I ... can't tell you."

"You what?" Joyce said, sitting up straighter. "You show me this ... this... thing, expect me to believe it healed me, then tell me you can't tell me where it came from? Jeff," she said, glaring at him, "this isn't funny any more. And Caitlin, I didn't think you would make fun of me like this."

Jeff put Little One in Joyce's lap. Make her believe, Little One. I think she's had a little more than she can assimilate between the injury, the recovery and you. See what you can do to convince her, please.

As Joyce stared down at the healer in her lap, Diana and Arlene sat beside her, Arlene encouraging Caitlin to slide over and give her room. Mother and daughter each took one of Joyce's hands, then touched the healer. Joyce hissed in a breath as a blue beam bathed her face for an instant. Slowly, she relaxed back into the cushions, a puzzled expression on her face. A little later, a smile touched her lips as her breathing deepened and she fell into a deep sleep induced by the healer.

As obvious concern crossed Caitlin's countenance, she knelt down in front of Joyce. Jeff assured her, "Joyce is fine. Little One can't talk to her, but she's learned to project a few concepts and 'pictures' to my wives. It works better with Arlene and Diana in the loop for some reason." Smiling, Jeff continued, "Well, you know that all my wives can — I guess the term is — feel where I am. That ability, or an offshoot of it applies to ... uh, other things, as well. I think that you and Joyce have felt a little bit of it when my wives and I are making love. Strong feelings, strong emotions seem to transmit better. Joyce isn't going to feel much at this point, but as the two of you grow closer to me and ... to all of us, you will be able to feel our emotions better."

Diana and Arlene sat quietly holding Joyce's hands as she slumped against the back of the couch. After five minutes or so, the blue beams swept across Joyce's face again. For a moment, nothing happened, then Joyce slowly opened her eyes and looked down at the healer sitting in her lap. "Oh, my," she whispered.

"What happened?" Caitlin asked, impatient. "Did she talk to you? Did you see anything?"

Joyce seemed to have to tear her eyes away from the healer to look at Caitlin. "I ... don't know. But I felt..." Stumbling to a stop, she sighed. "I felt some things and there was a swirl of ... almost pictures. They didn't make sense, but I had a feeling that someone ... cared. She is alive. Somehow, I'm positive of that, and I'm not afraid of her anymore," she finished, smiling down at Little One.

"Would you like for her to do the same thing for you?" Jeff asked Caitlin.

Caitlin, still kneeling in front of Joyce, stared at the healer only a couple of feet from her face. "Uh, I have no doubt that she's alive, but I think I'll wait. I guess I'm still a little afraid of her, but," she hastily added, "I'm extremely grateful for her healing my sister."

Caitlin sat back a little as Jeff reached over and took the healer from Joyce's lap.

"Where do you keep her?" Caitlin asked as she turned her back to the couch, leaning back between Joyce's knees. "She just seemed to suddenly appear when we were in that ICU room. How did you manage to hide her?"

Jeff sat back down and put the healer in his lap. Jennie, Melissa and Ann quickly sat at his feet to reach over and touch Little One, almost petting her, smiling as they felt her mental touch.

Jeff smiled at his younger wives before answering Caitlin. Joyce continued to listen to Jeff, but her eyes kept drifting to the healer.

"I think she has always had the ability to contour her body to fit more tightly over an injury, but after I started keeping her with me more, she's ... adapted, I guess you could say. She can now — spread is not the correct term, but I'll use it anyway in lieu of a better one — spread herself over my shoulders until she's hardly noticeable under even a tee-shirt."

Jeff looked down at the healer sitting in his lap, touched her as his wives were doing. "Since she healed Helen and me, I've been keeping her closer to us. A lot of the time actually on my shoulders. She learns a little about our society through my interaction with people. She can't exactly understand the things people say to me, but I'm learning to translate for her as I talk to someone. At least in a general sense. I think she still feels that we're about one notch above the cave man stage, but she has formed a strong bond with all of us, anyway."

Jeff got an evil little grin on his face. "I'm going to sleep with you two tonight," he said, looking at Caitlin and Joyce.

Two stunned women looked back at him.



-------

Chapter 77


 ... Jeff got an evil little grin on his face. "I'm going to sleep with you two tonight," he said, looking at Caitlin and Joyce.

Two stunned women looked back at him.

"What..." Caitlin started.

Jeff grinned at her knowing what Caitlin thought. "Don't you think it's time?" he asked, teasing.

"Well, I, uh ... when you kiss us, we can't tell you no. But I thought..."

"Oh, Jeff, quit teasing the poor women," Helen broke in. "Not that I don't think that he's perfectly capable of making you almost rape him if he wants, but I think he means it literally, as in sleep. He slept little Friday night, and probably not much more in that hospital room sitting by Joyce's bed Saturday night."

"Oh," Caitlin said. Her face turning red, she said again, "Oh," as she realized how she had sounded.

Jeff stood, put the healer gently into Diana's lap. Leaning over, he tilted Caitlin's face up with a finger and kissed her, pushing with his mind and letting loose the restraint on his pheromones.

Caitlin moaned into his mouth and her nipples popped, visible a little even through her bra.

As he pulled back slightly, barely separating their lips, he quietly asked, "Still grumpy?"

Caitlin shivered, but finally managed to pull her eyes away from his. "I'm not grumpy," she said very grumpily. "I'm still just a little confused. I still miss my dad. Just give me time..."

"No one is pushing you," he said, kissing her on her nose. "I'll never push you into sex, well at least penetration," he chuckled.

Turning to Joyce, whose face was already flushed, he tilted her head up and kissed her the same way he did Caitlin. When their lips parted, Joyce sighed. "I'll wait until my sister is ready." Looking at Caitlin, she continued, "But she had better get there in a hurry," she finished, grinning.

Jeff took the healer from Diana. "Little One needs to spend some more time with you, Joyce, and then you Caitlin. And I don't see why I have to sit in a corner taking catnaps while she's helping either of you."

"There's nothing wrong with me," Caitlin protested. "I mean, if you want to sleep with us and your other wives don't mind, and we don't, uh ... But there's nothing wrong with me," she repeated.

" ... That you know of," Jeff said. "She'll just spend a little time with you and get your body started optimizing itself. She will spend more time with both of you as you get more accustomed to her."

"And besides that," Diana added, "she does something else that you'll want before Jeff really sleeps with you." At Caitlin's raised eyebrow, Diana continued, "Birth control. No need for birth control pills, or anything else along those lines with her. We won't get pregnant until we want to. Then she'll make us fertile again."

Caitlin couldn't think of anything to say, but just nodded.

Diana, still sitting by Joyce, hugged her. "I guess you can tell how much we missed you and how worried about you we were." After hugging for a moment more, the women pulled apart.

Diana got up and pulled Caitlin to her feet, hugged her as well. "We know that you miss your father, but whether you make love to my husband or us, you're still one of us. We all hope that you will want to become a wife very soon. But whether you do or not, just know that we love you."

Caitlin sighed into Diana's shoulder. "I do love all of you, and ... I guess I am in love with Jeff. I'm just confused. Somehow I feel like I would be cheating on Dad to ... well, you know."

Diana braced back from Caitlin, her hand on the nurse's shoulders. "You went to talk with your unit manager at the hospital, but you never said what the outcome was."

"Yeah, I talked to her. I'm taking two weeks vacation." Glancing at Jeff, she continued, "I guess I'll put in an application while I'm off. Looks like this is going to be our home, and Denver is too far to commute every day."

"Yes," Diana exclaimed, hugging Caitlin again, to be quickly replaced by Joyce doing the same.

"You didn't tell me you were going to do that," Joyce scolded.

"Well, I was going to save it for a surprise when we were alone together later."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Diana quickly interjected.

"No problem," Caitlin said. "I should have already told her."

Jeff, feeling foolish, came over to hug Caitlin. "Of course you two would like to be alone after all that's happened, but ... somehow, we've got to work the healer in. She's insistent that she needs to continue with Joyce tonight."

Diana took Jeff's arm. "It's getting late and stud here has a little homework to do with his wives. Just a short get-acquainted session and then we'll send him to you with the healer. That way the two of you can have some quality time alone with each other before Jeff comes down. How's that?"

"That'll work," Joyce said, grinning. "And I am still feeling very weak. Now that I know what took care of me in the hospital, I certainly want to give her time to finish the job."

-------

Later, Jeff knocked on the bedroom door, then after a few seconds went on in. The lights were low and it was obvious that Joyce was asleep as she lay beside Caitlin. Jeff, healer already in hand, walked over to Joyce's side of the bed. As he held Little One out toward Joyce, the blue glow bathed her face.

Jeff raised the sheet a little and put the healer on her chest. As Little One settled into place, he put the sheet back and looked at Caitlin, who now had her eyes open. "Sorry for teasing you earlier. I should have known from what you had already told me that teasing of that nature wasn't the thing to do."

As Jeff started to go sit in the chair, Caitlin motioned for him to come sit by her on her side of the bed. Amazing him as he sat, she took his arm and pulled it around her as she sat up and snuggled into him. Holding his arm tightly against her, she absently ran a fingertip along a prominent vein on the back of his hand as she gathered her thoughts.

She spoke, at first, so quietly even Jeff with his excellent hearing had to strain to hear her, then clearing her throat, she spoke a little louder. "It's almost time for my period, and I'm the bitch from Hell until it's over. I'm in love with you..." As Jeff tried to say something, she shushed him, saying, "No, let me finish, please."

Jeff put his other arm around her, too, pulling her tightly against him as he leaned back against the headboard, snuggling her to him.

"I ... I shouldn't have run my mouth in there when you were kidding us. It was foolish of me. I mean, you've had every opportunity to take us in the shower and in this bed when you were loving us before. Deep down, I knew you were teasing, earlier. I don't know ... With this horrible thing that happened to Joyce, I guess I just chose you to lash out at, as they say. I just want to go crying to Daddy for him to hold me, but ... he can never hold me again," she finished, her voice choking.

Suddenly, she turned full into him, hugging Jeff tightly as she sobbed. After a while when Jeff managed to reach over to the bedside table and retrieve some tissues, she blew her nose. "I was so scared that Joyce was going to die. So scared. This just doesn't seem real. I mean, the whole thing. That terrible phone call from Diana to tell me about Joyce, then that, that... ride to Denver. I was scared to death that we would be killed, yet I wanted to scream at you to go faster."

Pulling her head back a little so she could look him in the face for a second, she again hugged him and continued. "I know that you're thinking that I'm acting like a fruitcake, but Daddy and Joyce were all my world. Then Daddy died so suddenly, and obviously," she sniffed, "I haven't gotten over his death. When I thought that Joyce was going to die, it just brought everything back. Then you just... casually showed me an alien that was walking across Joyce. Oh, shit, Jeff. You have no idea what that did to me..."

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. It wasn't even intended. I was so worried about Joyce, and someone coming in that I forgot to tell you to close your eyes when Little One moved." Jeff chuckled and squeezed her to him for a moment. As Caitlin pulled back a little and looked questioningly at him, he quickly said, "Oh, I'm not laughing at you. Not ever, my darling Caitlin. I just thought of a rather crude expression that seems to fit quite well."

At Caitlin's look, he continued, "You didn't know whether to shit or go blind when you saw her," he laughed.

"Oh, Jeff," she laughed, in spite of herself. "That is so tacky."

Jeff kissed the top of her head as he pulled her tightly against him again, then sighing, "I would have been just as upset as you — was until I got into that room. But I knew what the healer could do. She saved Helen as she was having a fatal heart attack. Saved me as I was bleeding to death. I — we — knew what she could do, but you were losing the last of your world. You had a right to be upset then, and you do now."

Tilting her chin up to him, he tenderly kissed her lips. "I can't replace your dad. Wouldn't want to try. But I'll be here when you decide that you can accept me — us — into your life. I won't say that I won't tease you. All of us tease and play with each other frequently. But I'll also hold you in my arms and let you cry over your dad anytime you want. As far as getting over him is concerned, I doubt it will ever happen. I wouldn't want it to, either. But you are part of us, just as Joyce is, and he was part of your life. To change that would be to change you, and we kinda like the you that I'm holding in my arms right now."

After a pause, "Helen still cries for her first husband — and her sister-wife," he continued.

When Caitlin made a little sound, Jeff said, "Yeah, you heard me correctly. I'll have Helen tell you about them. They were killed by a drunk driver."

"How long ago was this..."

"No. I'll ask Helen to talk to you about them when she thinks she can. We don't try to forget loved ones here, and to that end, the girls are preparing a surprise for Helen. I'm sure as soon as things settle down, they'll tell you about it. And when they do, you will know that we really mean what I said about not forgetting."

Jeff hesitated a moment, then, "Because of the healer, I suppose, we've all become more attuned to each other. My wives can feel each other's emotions ... and more. They know where I am all the time, and Lord only knows what else. I don't have a word for it, so I'll just use feel as well, although it isn't exactly right. I can 'feel' their emotions — feel them, somehow when we're making love, and when I'm just holding them, to a lesser extent. And as we grow closer, I imagine that we're all beginning to 'feel' you more and more.

"Like Diana said, we're past the turning back point. So when you hurt for your dad, to a lesser extent, of course, I do too."

Again, Caitlin pulled back a little from him so she could look him in the eyes. "Is that how you knew that Joyce was hurt?"

Jeff thought for a moment, a frown darkening his countenance. "I tried to talk about that with Little One as we sat in Joyce's room last night with the healer on my shoulders. It would probably be better for Diana to talk to you and Joyce about some of those things. I think she will be better able to explain the concepts to you."

Jeff stopped for a moment, absently caressing Caitlin's back as he thought, then, "Little One has talked about enhancing some of my latent abilities. At least, abilities that she claims I have. Maybe it was one of them that suddenly..."

Jeff wound down as his mind dredged up for the hundredth time the terrible feeling of impending loss of a loved one, the feeling of impending disaster that he had felt; heard again the maniacal screaming of Crawford — felt the pain that slammed through Joyce's body as Jeff seemed to be there joined to her soul during the last few seconds as that .44 fired and the round slammed into her vest, it's energy pushing her sternum and ribcage inward to squeeze her heart and lungs so horribly.

"If I had been there, I could have put a round through his head before he could have fired," he whispered, almost to himself. "I could have. But all I could do was watch." His voice faded away as he lived over and over the last few seconds of that time.

Caitlin felt Jeff's body tense, saw the unshed tears pool in his eyes as he remembered, called his name, but he didn't respond. She tried to shake him, but it was useless; she couldn't move him at all. It was as if all his muscles had locked. She couldn't even move his arm.

After a couple of minutes, louder, desperate, she called his name again, "Jeff." Then screamed it, "Jeff!"

She felt him move a little, saw the look change on his face as his mind returned to the bedroom and the present, then finally saw his eyes focus on her. "You scared me," she accused. "What were you thinking?"

"I've got to find that son-of-a-bitch and kill him. I can't let this happen again," he quietly said, thoroughly confusing Caitlin.

"But he's dead."

After a pause. "Oh, I don't mean the idiot who shot Joyce. That's what I was remembering, obviously," he said, somewhat sheepishly, "but I'm talking about Hagewood. I can't allow what happened to Joyce to happen to anyone else in my family. He's threatened to kill us, but nobody can find him. Somehow, I've got..."

The bedroom door slammed open as a nude Diana came through it, Glock in front of her, tracking. She scanned the room, then relaxed, pointing the pistol to the floor as the bedroom erupted with Jeff's wives led by Arlene, all armed, a look of mayhem on their faces, all panting from their run.

"What's wrong?" Diana said through clenched teeth, her body shaking, just before the rest of the wives broke out with questions and exclamations, their blood streams pumped full of adrenalin, and nobody's ass to kick.

In the abruptness of the moment, even as she flinched from all the weapons, some part of Caitlin's mind noted with amusement the array of attire — or lack of it — as the women and girls turned their full attention to Jeff after checking and rechecking the bedroom. Ann had on a short sexy top that obviously should have had a bottom to go with the set. Helen had on a negligée, but it was wrapped around her waist under her arms. Most were nude.

Yep, Jeff said hello to his wives, alright,  Caitlin mused. And there's certainly no doubt about the link between them.

"It's okay. It's okay," Jeff said, standing and grabbing Diana to hug her hard, then spending equal time to hug and reassure the others, and to thank them for their concern. Lastly, to apologize for upsetting them.

After a few minutes, he sat back down on the bed. "I guess I had a bit of a ... flashback — for want of a better term."

"No shit, Sherlock," Diana sarcastically said in a still shaky voice as she stood beside the bed obviously getting ready to leave. Dryly, she added after clearing her throat, "Well, shall we try to not dwell quite so strongly on those memories in the future?"

Hugging Jeff, she continued, "I guess we were all exhausted and sleeping soundly. I didn't stop to think. I suspect that I was halfway here before I even knew why."

"Oh, shit," Jeff said. "And again, I'm sorry. I just got to thinking about what happened to Joyce, then I thought about Hagewood..."

"I'm going back to bed," Melissa announced as she turned to stagger sleepily out the door. There was a titter of quiet laughter from the other wives as they turned as one and slipped out of the room.

"Crap," Caitlin said, "this gives new meaning to 'stirring up a hornet's nest.'"

With an inscrutable look on her face, she held the sheet up for Jeff to slide in beside her, not noticing that Little One was now sitting on Joyce's shoulder obviously looking at them.

"I'm exhausted," Caitlin said as she pulled the sheet to her chin. "Turn the light off, and if you use that alien on me ... don't wake me doing it."

Jeff snapped the light off with the remote. Within minutes, he heard a soft, but quite unladylike snore from Caitlin. A little later, she turned toward him, flopped a leg across him and snuggled her head into his chest, her breasts pushing softly against his side, her breath tickling him. Chuckling, he reached over to touch the healer, sensing her amusement and questions.

'We'll talk tomorrow, ' he reassured her with his mental voice. Then asked her to check on Caitlin after she finished with Joyce.

He slept.

-------

The wives were up and getting ready to start their day. "I wish we could all go and see Alesha first thing when she discovers that she can hear," Diana said as they dried each other's backs in the shower area.

Helen chuckled as she rubbed a towel vigorously through her hair making her breasts do delightful things on her chest. "No doubt she will be excited. Anyone would. But you're right. If all of us go in there at the same time looking expectant..."

The girls looked at each other and as they frequently did, came to some silent agreement. Ann spoke up, "I'll just call Alesha to tell her it's time to get up and get ready for breakfast, conveniently forgetting that she shouldn't be able to hear on the phone."

"Yep, that will do it," Diana said as they lined up at the big mirror and began drying their hair. "Then when she realizes that she can hear over the phone, we'll go and congratulate her."

With everyone dressed a little later, Ann dialed the suite.

After four rings there was a tentative, "Hello."

"Breakfast is in twenty minutes. Some of us will be there shortly to help you get dressed. How are you feeling this morning? Still dizzy?"

"No, I'm..." Alesha started when it dawned on her sleepy mind that she was hearing on the phone.

Sitting bolt upright in bed, the sleepiness gone in an instant, she could hear nothing in the quiet bedroom. "Sa ... uh, say that again, please," she said, daring to hope a little.

"I asked if you were still dizzy this morning?" Ann said trying to keep her voice without inflection.

"I can hear you on the phone," Alesha said, then much louder, "I can hear!"

"We'll be right there," Ann said hanging up the phone. Turning to the others who were all smiling or giggling, "Looks like the healer fixed her, at least enough for her to hear me easily on the phone. When I hung up Alesha was still repeating 'I can hear' over and over — and crying."

"Well done, Ann," Diana said, but she barely got the words out of her mouth before the girls took off for Alesha's suite. The hurry-up soon turned into a race as they seized the opportunity to compete.

Wainwright, Margaret, Bill and Kathy were walking down the hall when the four girls rounded the corner like Indy cars coming around a curve. If anyone stumbled there was going to be a wreck worthy of writing home about.

After the girls flew past, "You can close your mouth now," Margaret dryly said as she tipped a finger under Frank's chin.

"I wasn't..." Wainwright started but was interrupted.

"Oh, you weren't? You always stop mid-sentence and forget to continue?" Margaret teased, trying to sound mad.

"Well, they were braless," Kathy laughed. "And with those tight tops and at a full gallop, they did look pretty sexy."

"Gallop?" Bill laughed. "Horses gallop, girls ... well. Whatever you call it, they sure looked good doing it."

"It wasn't the running you noticed," Kathy laughed while pinching Bill. "It was the bounce that had your eyes tracking."

"Ouch. Crap. Do all women come into this world knowing where to pinch a man so it hurts the most?"

"Absolutely," Frank said. "One of the facts of life. It's genetic or a race memory or something."

They all chuckled at the oft-repeated comment the men seemed to be making lately.

As Wainwright glanced again down the hallway in the direction the girls had gone, Margaret chuckled. "Frank, if you ever got one of those girls, you would look like you had spent thirty minutes in the fast cycle of a clothes dryer when you staggered out of the bedroom, and that's assuming that you had the strength to stagger out."

"Well, I do fairly well for an old man," Wainwright said with a grin as the two resumed walking down the hall.

Margaret giggled. "'Old man' my ass. If you did any better, I would need one of those wheelchairs to get to the kitchen this morning." Grabbing his arm, she tucked it around her shoulders and hugged herself to him as they walked.

Realizing that Bill and Kathy were no longer behind them, Frank and Margaret turned. Eyeing the couple in their flight uniforms, Margaret said, "If that kiss heats up any more, they're never going to make it to breakfast."

"Yeah, but I don't think they would notice," Frank answered as the couple turned guiltily toward them, then hastily caught up.

"If I've got to go to work, then you do too," Wainwright said as Bill and Kathy joined them.

"Sorry, Sir," Bill sheepishly said.

"For about the nine hundredth time, will you cut that damned 'Sir' out," Wainwright laughed.

"Yes, Boss," Bill tried to meekly say, but the grin on his face spoiled it a bit.

As they got to the living room, Jeff's other wives turned into the hallway and waved to them.

"You guys go on in the living room and relax," Margaret said.

"Un uh," Wainwright replied. "I'm dying for a cup of coffee. I'll make it while you two help with breakfast."

"No way," Margaret said. "We need to take care of some girl talk. With Joyce and Caitlin back, we might want to shed a few tears and hugs. We'll bring you guys some coffee first thing and call you when breakfast is ready. We're not in a hurry to get to the office this morning."

"We're not? We've got a staff meeting scheduled as soon as we get there."

Margaret just laughed. "So, call them and tell them the meeting is going to be late. You do pay their salaries," she teased.

Frank wanted to get started with the new helicopter business that he was almost certain that the hospital pilot would jump at, but he knew that the 'boss' had spoken. She was carrying all the pussy in his world between her legs. He never thought of straying.

When Margaret and Kathy were out of earshot, Wainwright said, "Well, you don't have to stand there grinnin' like a mule eatin' briars. Let's go sit on our asses and wait for the coffee."

"Mule eatin' briars?" Bill chuckled. "You've been around Jeff too long. You're starting to sound like a hillbilly," Bill joked as Wainwright threatened dire consequences.

Bill hesitated a moment. "Uh ... that didn't come out just the way I meant it. Jeff is a hell of a long way from being a hillbilly, but he can come up with some of the most..."

" ... hillbilly expressions," Wainwright finished for him, laughing. "And I'm going to drop that same expression on Miss Prissy Ass Donna Cornwell the next time she gets on her soapbox in a staff meeting. Just let that bitch crack one little grin, and I'm going to do it. If she weren't so damn efficient, I would have turned her over my knee and spanked her long ago. Of course, then she would have sued my ass, but it's worth a thought, anyway," he finished chuckling.

Breaking into a laugh, the two friends sat to wait for Jeff, Dave and Jeb.

-------

A little earlier, Jeff had awakened to giggling and a very pleasant feeling on his dick. The suction went on for a moment, then was gone momentarily, to resume with a slight difference to the accompaniment of more quiet giggles.

Picking up the remote, he brought the lighting up a little, then carefully peeked under the sheet. Joyce had a hand on his dick holding it steady while Caitlin slowly moved her mouth up and down the shaft. Her other hand gently cupped his balls. As he watched, the women thinking him still asleep, they swapped and Joyce replaced Caitlin's mouth with hers.

Caitlin brought her mouth close to Joyce's ear. "We haven't done this since we woke Daddy up that morning."

Joyce giggled around Jeff's cock. The girls liked to do that as they played with him, and he loved the feeling. Seeing Caitlin apparently relaxed as she played with him brought as much pleasure as the soft blowjob.

Well, she's darn sure getting a dose of my pheromones under that sheet.

They must have realized that he was awake becayse the giggling got louder and Caitlin tightened her mouth, sucking harder. Shortly, they changed and it became obvious that Joyce was working his cock in earnest.

"I want him this time," Caitlin surprised Jeff by saying.

"You sure?" Joyce asked. "He comes a lot," she said taking her mouth off his cock for a moment.

"Yeah, I've been thinking some. I'll tell you about it later," Caitlin said, putting her lips almost against Joyce's ear so Jeff supposedly wouldn't hear, never suspecting how sensitive his hearing actually was.

Joyce went back to sucking hard, her hand tightening as it stroked the base of his cock.

Jeff relaxed and willed his orgasm. Shortly, "I'm almost there, ladies. I..."

His voice faltered as Caitlin pushed Joyce gently aside and shoved her mouth as far down on his dick as she could. Joyce reached under her lover, pulled and squeezed Caitlin's nipples the way she liked.

Jeff tensed, threw his head back. "Uhhhh," he got out as the pump started, the first stream geysering out the tip of his cock. Caitlin choked slightly, but quickly pulled her mouth back until she was only holding the flared head in her lovely mouth. She almost had the first spurt swallowed when the second one came.

Shortly, there was thick come on her mouth and chin as she frantically swallowed and Joyce giggled. "I want some," Joyce announced.

As Joyce moved her mouth close, Caitlin swung Jeff's dick to Joyce's mouth. The spurt that occurred between mouths was caught mostly by Joyce's face. Caitlin wiped it off with a finger, transferring it to her mouth, then gasped as she suddenly realized that she was coming.

Shivering, Caitlin slumped against Jeff's thigh as Joyce licked his cock and sucked the last few thick drops out of the hole.

After a few moments while everyone regained their senses and breathing, Jeff said, laughing, "You two are going to kill me. I thought I would never stop coming."

"Oh, sure. We really believe that shit coming from a man with seven wives. And before you say anything, the girls have told us how you fuck them all senseless every night. So one little blowjob from the two of us wouldn't even make a dent."

"Come here," Jeff said, pulling Caitlin up beside him. As he started to kiss her, Caitlin tried to turn her mouth away.

"I've got come in my mouth. I..."

"I'd be a real ass if I refused to kiss you after that fantastic wake-up. Now hush."

As Jeff kissed her, he put all he had into his pheromones and the mental push, trying to tell her how much he loved and appreciated her, stroking her back as she lay across him. Caitlin moaned into his mouth as she surrendered to him, trying to become one with him. Shortly, her world spun around her and an even stronger orgasm hit — and continued long enough to leave her feeling giddy.

As Jeff turned Caitlin loose to lie quietly giggling on his shoulder, Joyce placed her mouth on Jeff's without prompting. After a time, she too orgasmed and collapsed onto Jeff's other shoulder, a smile on her face and her eyes closed.



-------

Chapter 78

MONDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 23

Breakfast was — well — a riot. Joyce's brush with death was probably on everyone's mind from time to time, evidenced by the amount of hugs she got. She was more talkative than usual, but as she relaxed and occasionally grew still during the day, her eyes became vacant as her mind dwelled on what happened.

Jeb and Annie were happy — exuberant — over moving into their new home. Dave and Evie had given them a short tour yesterday.

Annie asked to be the one to say their breakfast prayer, then everyone lined up to fill their plates at the steam tables. Someone, usually one of the girls, was always next to Alesha Turcott making sure she wasn't intimidated by all the people and the splendor of the retreat, encouraging her to try first this food, then that one.

Jennie nudged Alesha's arm. "Here, take this smaller plate, too."

Alesha looked at her. "I don't think I can eat all I already have."

"Oh, don't worry about that. You're probably hungrier than you realize. Anyway, all our scraps go into the composter. Diana is going to have a greenhouse built. We're going to make our own compost for our plants. We raked a big pile of leaves, but we're going to have to wait for green grass clippings until next spring. Scraps from the table go in there, too."

"That's nice," Alesha said. "I love flowers."

"Try some of the cantaloupe. I've always liked cantaloupe, but Diana showed us how it can be better. It has to be fully ripe. She leaves them out on the counter and smells them every day. When they're ready, they have a much better smell that you learn to recognize. That's when we put them in the refrigerator to cool, then serve them. They're lots better than just serving them straight from the grocery store. Most aren't fully ripe, then."

Alesha accepted several pieces of cantaloupe, wondering how in the world she was going to eat even half what the girls had piled on her plate.

Shortly, she was encouraged to sit between Diana and Arlene. Glancing across the table, she tried to remember the names of the people she had been introduced to. That distinguished looking guy is supposed to be ultra rich according to Jennie. He's dressed nicely, and that must be his suit coat hanging over there, but he doesn't act stuck up. He's laughing and joking with everyone. Now what's his name? I associated it with right. Yeah, that's it, Wainwright. And the lady beside him is Margaret. She said to always call her that. She didn't like titles. And he said to call him, Frank. Oh, Margaret is so in love with him. I like the way she looks at him.

And that little blond, Evie, is teasing Frank unmercifully. She's a riot. Does she ever sit still? She has enough energy for someone twice her size.

Those two pilots, uh, they said their names were ... I associated his name with Wild Bill Hickok. Yeah that's it: Bill and Kathy. They look sharp in those uniforms. And I'll bet there is something going on there. Kathy looks like the cat that ate the canary when she looks at Bill. She's so pretty. Startling herself with that thought, she surreptitiously scanned all the women at the big table. Even Margaret, although maybe a little older, is very pretty. I've never seen this many gorgeous women in one room. I feel like I'm so plain around these women. But the girls did my hair nice, and the pants and blouses they bought me are expensive. But I'm not in the same league as these rich people... 

Helen winked at Alesha and grinned. Somehow, that made her feel better. Then Diana went into a long dissertation about the early years of their marriage, but the way she told her tale of woe, it was funny, obviously poking fun at herself and Jeff.

Alesha found herself laughing. When she looked at the grinning Arlene, she was almost certain that Diana's dialogue had been to put her at ease. She could like everyone here — a lot. But I've always made my own way, and call it anything they want, it's still charity. Now that I can hear so much better, I have to start looking for a job. Maybe Jesse will know of something. If not, I'll see if he'll look around a little for me. I'll bet he talks to a lot of people while he's on duty. Maybe I can get a job at one of the ski lodges. They're bound to need someone to clean rooms. I could handle the desk job, too. I like to meet people and I'm darn sure computer literate.

"Would you like some more fruit?" Diana asked.

"Huh?" My gosh. My plate is empty. "No thank you. I can't believe I ate all that food. It was delicious."

-------

Insistent upon helping with cleanup, Alesha managed to rinse some of the dishes. Annie was at another sink rinsing as well. When the last dish was rinsed, she turned around to start something else and stopped. All the girls, including Linda (Madison's daughter) were just finishing wiping counters and the huge table. Everything was in its place, and Laura put the last of the plates in the dishwasher that Alesha had just rinsed. The kitchen was spotless.

Almost stunned, she looked around her at the gleaming, monster kitchen. Was I daydreaming or something? How could we have gotten done so quickly?

Tugging Alesha's hand, Jennie said, "Come on. It's still a while before we have to be in class. We have things to show you now that you're feeling better. You'll love this place. Wait 'till you see the pool room ... The pool is just great. Do you play computer games? We have almost every game there is..."

As the door closed behind Alesha and the girls cutting off the sound, the women grinned at each other.

Annie smiled at the women, the men having been kicked out of the kitchen as usual when cleanup started. "You people know how to make a body feel welcome. I know. Been there. Done that," she laughed. "I have personal experience."

Laura hugged her. "We're going to miss you. But you won't be that far away. We want you to be a regular around here. You don't need an invitation. You're always more than welcome."

Diana took her hand. "Come on, the men are talking in the living room. We'll all go to our suite and have a little gabfest before you go."

-------

Bill, Dave, Jeb and Jeff sat in the living room drinking coffee. "Okay, Dave, tell me what's going on with the move."

Dave took a sip of coffee, leaned back and put his feet up. "Well, as you know, we're going to get Jeb and Annie moved in today. The movers are going to meet us, and I have several people from a crew that are going to help out as well."

"Maybe I need to go with you," Jeff said to Dave. "I think you're right, Jeb. That wasn't a robbery; it was a hit..."

Dave raised his left hand a little. "Hold on there, Boss. I totally agree with you. I've got it covered, though. There are two Denver officers who are going to meet us there and stay until everything is loaded, and we leave. I've got enough boxes and people coming to fill them that all Jeb and Annie have to do is point."

"What are you going to do with your furniture, Jeb? Dave tells me that the previous owners left a lot in your new house?"

Jeb had gotten up to refill his cup, but paused in his pouring. "Well, to be frank with you, other than a dresser of Annie's that is a keepsake, we're just going to store most of our stuff. There's a great big storage building, not to say anything about plenty of room in the garage. We're just going to put most everything in the utility building and worry about it later. Hell, they even left most of the cooking utensils."

"Make damn sure you carry your piece with you, anyway," Jeff said, looking hard at Dave.

"Yeah, I am, Boss. I even tried to get Jeb and Annie to just go on to the new house..."

" ... But we want to go back one more time. And there are some personal things that we want to pack ourselves."

Jeff sighed. "I wish I could go with you, but I've got some things to do today."

"Boss, we'll be fine. I'm taking a bunch of people with us, plus having the Denver officers there. Nobody is going to mess with Jeb and Annie."

Frank walked in and sat just as Dave finished.

"What's that grin about?" Dave asked as Frank poured himself a cup and sat on a sofa near Dave.

"Ah, I just got off the phone with Ray Tingle. He's going to call the chopper pilot and see if he's willing to meet about setting up a flying service. If he wants to try it, we'll have a much shorter commute. If he doesn't, we'll have a shorter commute in Saint Louis. Win, win as far as I'm concerned."

"I thought we were in a hurry this morning," Madison said.

Frank took a sip of coffee and chuckled. "Well, I thought I was, too. But then Margaret told me that I wasn't."

"And what did you say to that?" Dave teased.

"Hell, you know me," Frank said trying to look serious. "I said, 'Yes, Ma'am.' Works every time."

"Yep," Jeb said. "Like I've always heard, they own most of the money in the world, and all the pussy."

"Second that," Jeff laughed.

"So what are you going to do today, Boss?" Dave asked, trying to copy the tone that Jeff had used asking him the same thing.

Jeff, unaware that Dave was teasing him, said, "The Sheriff called yesterday and wanted to meet with me this morning. And I need to get back with the lawyer about the Thompsons' farm, plus Diana said she had a couple of things for me to do. Probably, the Honey-Do list will come first."

"I was just teasing you, Jeff. It's none of my business..."

"The Hell it's not. We're family."

Before they could continue, the women walked in. "Are you guys going to sit on your butts and gab all day like a bunch of women," Diana said as she bounced in and plopped down in Jeff's lap.

"Uump," he grunted, moving her a little.

"What's the matter? Did I sit on something important?" she teased.

"I, uh..." Jeff said, realizing that Alesha Turcott was only a few feet away.

"You are so cute when you blush," Diana said kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Payback," Jeff said, trying to look stern.

"Promises, promises," Diana grinned back at him.

"Okay," Wainwright said, standing, a grin on his face. "I guess we're rolling. We'll see everyone Friday night."

"Bye, Daddy," Linda said kissing her father hard. He had to fight to keep something else from being hard as her breasts burrowed into his chest.

"Bye, Kitten. See you Friday. Study and show them how smart you are."

After hugs from everyone, the four left in Laura's Escalade. Shortly, Dave, Evie, Jeb and Annie were also on their way.

-------

Midmorning, the girls and Doctor Boswell were in class. Turcott had gone to take a nap, saying she was still a little weak. Laura was in the office working on a computer program, leaving Jeff, Diana, Joyce and Caitlin sitting in the living room.

The women had made a snack for themselves and well ... it was hard to think of Jeff's food as a snack, no matter what he said.

"I can't believe you eat that much and don't gain weight," Caitlin said, eyeing the diminishing food on Jeff's plate. "And don't even start with the seven wives routine."

Jeff grinned at her. "I'm just a growing boy," he sniggered, taking another bite.

The security computer chimed and switched to the Sheriff's car as it turned into the driveway. As the camera focused on the Sheriff's face, Jeff supplied his name for the computer. They watched the vehicle wind its way up the driveway, slow as it passed the front of the building, then drive on around to the back.

"When he called, I told him to come around to the back. I'll go and meet him, then bring him in here," Jeff said, getting up.

The Sheriff got out of his car and stood looking around. When Jeff walked out, Tate turned to him. "I guess you've heard it many times, but damned if I can keep from saying it. This place is huge."

"Yeah, it's a little on the large side, but we've been here a while now and we don't notice it as much anymore."

"From what I can see of it, that sure looks like a nice range," Tate said, nodding toward the back.

Jeff chuckled. "It started off to be quite modest, but then my project manager got into it. We're also building one in the basement. Well, were. Dave is trying to get a big barn built for a friend of ours. When that's done, he'll start back on the indoor range."

Tate looked around him again. "Yeah, as high up as you are here, you probably won't see the ground again before spring. It's a wonder that you don't have a foot or two already."

"Yeah, Dave tells me the snow is late this year. We've had a couple of light ones, but he says we'll have a lot more soon." Jeff motioned toward the back door. "Come on in. We can talk in the living room."

Tate opened the trunk of his car. Reaching inside, he brought out a gun belt and holster with a Glock already in it. Slinging the equipment belt over his shoulder, he handed Jeff a new vest for Joyce.

"I thought they were keeping Joyce's pistol until the investigation was over," Jeff said, eyeing the Glock in the belt holster.

Tate picked up a small box then closed the trunk. "Oh, this isn't Deputy Cramer's gun. It's just a loaner for her."

Jeff grinned at the Sheriff, but didn't say anything further about the equipment, just motioned toward the door again.

As they walked into the living room, Joyce stood. "Sheriff."

"Morning Deputy. You're looking well today."

"I feel good, Sir," Joyce responded, but she looked tense.

After everyone greeted the Sheriff, he turned back to Joyce who was again sitting on one of the couches. Realizing that she looked tense, he said, "At ease, Deputy. This is a social call to see how you're doing and to bring your equipment to you."

Tate put the equipment belt and small box on the couch beside Joyce. Jeff placed the new vest beside the other equipment. "Your breast badge and hat badge are in the box. We didn't have another hat that size, so I had to order one. I'll have Deputy Goodman bring it to you when it comes. If you'll call the Sergeant and give him your sizes, he'll send you a replacement uniform as well."

"Have a seat, Sheriff," Joyce said.

As Tate started to sit, he realized that everyone had quietly left the room when he had been talking to Joyce.

Mentally shrugging, he sat in a chair, sitting forward on the edge to be nearer the deputy. "That's my gun in the holster. I got another one from supply for myself. I know the one there in the holster is perfect, so I brought it instead of one off the shelf. When you get yours back, we can swap."

"Thank you, Sheriff. It means a lot that I've got a pistol..."

"Damned right it does. Look, I don't know exactly how to say this. I know that your emotions must still be raw with what's happened." Tate cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "I don't know how to say this other than just straight out. When a deputy discharges his or her weapon, well ... when they shoot someone, the first thing that happens is that IAD (Internal Affairs Department) takes your gun away. Oh, they have to run ballistics on it and all the other crap, even though they know that your weapon was the one used. But taking your gun away makes you feel like ... well you've been fired, or at least have done something wrong.

"Then they demand that you write down everything that happened — in detail. One of the first things I did when I took over as Sheriff was to rewrite our SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for that. Oh, the investigators still have to keep the gun until the DA says that it's okay to return it, but that instant, detailed letter of the incident had to go. I changed that to read 'within forty-eight hours of the incident barring extenuating circumstances, ' such as injury to the deputy and so forth.

"Hell, when it happened to me, I couldn't remember half what had happened, and I got some things mixed up timewise when I wrote out my account of the shooting right after it happened. The investigators thought that I was lying, and for a while there I was in some deep trouble. But there were other witnesses, and things finally came out okay.

"You, obviously, could not write a letter right after it happened, because well ... Anyway, today or tomorrow, please sit down and write up everything you can remember that happened." Handing her a folder, he continued, "Although this isn't the way things are usually done, that's a transcript of the recording you made when you locked your mike down."

Tate grinned at her. "I've played with that portable since then, and I haven't been able to get that transmit switch to lock on. Was that a fluke?"

Joyce shook her head, "Un uh. I knew how to do it. I thought I was going to have to shoot and I wanted it on tape."

"Well, the how is immaterial. It worked, so there's the transcript. The investigators have a copy, and it wouldn't be fair if you didn't have one, too."

Tate could see the deepening shadows on his deputy's face. "Look, Deputy. Like I said in the hospital, you aren't in any trouble with your department. That son-of-a-bitch needed killing. Everybody knows that. And that would be the case if you had managed to shoot him without him shooting you. This thing is cut and dried, but we have to jump through the hoops.

"Come to think of it, I'm going to start the forty-eight hour count tomorrow morning. So sometime in the next couple of days, sit down and write out what happened. It's perfectly fine to say that you're not sure of something, or to say things like, 'As I remember it.' We have the master recording of what was transmitted on the radio. One of the investigators had a brief interview with Ms. Turcott and she sung your praises. They will need to have a complete interview and take your statement when you feel well enough, but they can wait to get all the little details straight until you're better."

Diana walked in pushing a serving cart with coffee, soft drinks and an assortment of sweet rolls.

Tate quickly stood. "Ma'am that wasn't necessary if that's for me. I..."

Diana grinned at him. "Trust me. It won't go to waste around here." Turning, she quickly left them alone.

"I feel like I'm imposing," Tate said, a frown on his face as he reseated himself.

"Don't be, Sheriff," Joyce said, getting up. Motioning with a cup, she turned to Tate.

"Yeah. One sugar. And those rolls look good."

Joyce poured the coffee, put a spoon of sugar in. After putting a roll on a small plate, she offered the coffee and sweet to her sheriff.

"Look, Deputy..." Tate started, but was interrupted.

"Why don't you call me Joyce? I've heard you call some of the older male deputies by their first name." When the Sheriff showed obvious reluctance, she went on, "Well, at least when we're not at work."

Tate sighed.

"It's because I'm female, isn't it?"

"Look," Tate said. "We both know that I respect my female deputies, and I wouldn't be here today if I didn't hold you in the highest esteem. But perception with my job goes a long way. I'm not only the top cop for the county, but by necessity I'm a politician too, because I'm elected. Some idiot hears me call you Joyce, runs his mouth saying that he thinks we have something going, then a rumor is started. Even with the male deputies, I have to be careful to not show favor."

Tate took a bite of the roll, sitting back and thinking. "My wife and I have discussed this many times. She's of the opinion to damn the torpedoes. That woman has faith in me that you wouldn't believe. I swear she could catch me coming out of a motel room with a half-naked woman hanging onto me, and it would never cross her mind that I might be doing anything wrong."

Well, that's the way she used to be,  Tate thought to himself. Something's happened in the last couple of years, but I don't understand it.

"And you wouldn't be doing anything wrong, I'd bet," Joyce said regaining her seat on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand.

"Well, no ... Joyce. I wouldn't be."

Joyce just smiled at him and waited, much of her earlier nervousness dissipated, a new respect for the man sitting across from her. She realized again the intelligence behind the rugged face, knowing that he had somehow put her at her ease.

"Okay," the Sheriff grinned, "back to what I was talking about before. I changed our rules because of what happened to me by being forced to write out an immediate account of the shooting incident I was involved in. Then later, I went to a school that touched on this. They had a video where they interviewed two different psychologists about something they called situational amnesia. They also had several interviews with officers and deputies who had been involved in serious altercations.

"Anyway, it quickly became obvious that the rules that many departments have concerning shootings are outdated, and seriously flawed. While a criminal doesn't have to say a thing, the deputy has to recount — perfectly — everything that happened, and do it just after it's happened. Now if this were not a serious incident, that would be the correct way, but due to this 'situational amnesia, ' the cop often comes out looking like he or she is lying — when, dammit, they aren't. Their memory is just screwed from the trauma of the situation. So, anyway, one of the first things I did when I took the position was to change that 'immediately' written statement to forty-eight hours, barring complications. I'm not trying to be a wimpy sheriff; I'm just trying to be a realistic one.

"Forcing a deputy to write out a statement that could very well affect the rest of his or her life while they are still traumatized is ridiculous. And there is something else. Since there are two agencies, plus the DA's office investigating this deputy-involved shooting, there are a number of investigators doing separate investigations. Now their plan — until I intercepted it — was for each of them to interview you, separately.

"You wouldn't have those two weeks off to get your head straight in order to come back to work, you would be spending a large part of that time at one or the other of their headquarters being grilled. I told them to make a master list of questions — questions that your statement does not cover. Then one of them could ask you the questions with one more interview to cover anything missed. You, obviously, can have an attorney present, although you are not accused of any wrongdoing. But it is an investigation, and if the investigators don't like it that you have an attorney to advise you, they will just have to lump it, although by departmental rules, you have to cooperate with an investigation.

"With your permission, I'll be with you during that interview. I'm not going to have any of my people grilled by an outside agency without me being present. And again, this all should be just routine, for the tape proves what happened, and my deputy was shot. But the wheels of the bureaucracy must turn — to mix a couple of metaphors."

"Okay, Sheriff. I'll write out a statement of what happened and get it to you..."

"Just call the station and have the unit assigned to this area pick it up. Day shift is Goodman, isn't it?" he asked, knowing that it was.

"Yes. It's Jesse. He's been assigned to this beat since I'm not on days anymore."

"He told me he went by the hospital to see Turcott, and said he saw the both of you last night. He said that she was still having problems with vertigo. I went by to see her in the hospital, but she was asleep, or mostly, because of the medicine."

Joyce wondered what to say, then, "She got up feeling better this morning, and a good bit of her hearing has come back, apparently."

"Really? I was told that she had a ruptured eardrum and would have to have an operation to get any hearing back."

"I don't know about that. She was supposed to call a specialist to set up an appointment, but she told me a little while ago that she was going to put it off for a few days to see how much more of her hearing would come back."

"So, why did she end up here? Or do I need to ask?" he finished, grinning.

Joyce smiled back at him, knowing that Tate was grilling her just as assuredly as any of the investigators, but was a lot more subtle with it.

Yeah, sure Sheriff. I've been asked to become part of a multiple marriage, and the Matthews feel responsible for someone who helped save my life, she thought. And you smell something. You turned on that "good ol' boy" persona and dropped back into that detective mode you used to be so good at according to the old-timers on the force. Trouble is, your questions could just be conversation, or then again, someone digging to find out how two of us healed so quickly.

Joyce's voice hardened a little. "Sheriff, these are good people. People who helped my sister and me, then saw another soul without hope. They took her in and treated her like family, just like they have done me. If she needs a doctor, I would be totally amazed if they didn't get her the best one they could find."

Tate leaned back in his seat, took a sip of coffee and a bite of his forgotten roll. "I talked to that chopper pilot, and I stood in the door of that trauma unit. The people on the helicopter thought you were dying. Unless I misunderstood their doctor jargon — and I'll admit that I well could have — they weren't giving you very much chance to live, or at the very best, fully recover."

Tate raised his head to look Joyce in the eyes. "Then late that same day, they moved you from ICU to a room."

Tate took the last bite, put the plate down beside him, crossed his legs. "Somebody got a rumor started that you were Mr. Matthews wife. He and your sister spend some time with you in that intensive care room, then a few hours later you don't need intensive care any longer."

When Joyce started to speak, the Sheriff motioned for her to wait. "Just hang on a minute. Then, Ms. Turcott spends a night up here and suddenly she can hear. This is a rich man," he said jerking his thumb in the direction of the door, "who supposedly sold an invention. From personal experience I damn sure know that the FBI is at least aware of him to the point of almost instant feedback when someone checks his carry permit."

"Sheriff, I don't..."

"Deputy, I'd be a damned fool if I went sticking my nose into something like this. I'm not your adversary, nor am I, Mr. Matthews'. I'm just curious, and I don't expect you to answer. But this seems like something to file away in the back of my mind."

Standing and putting his empty cup and plate back on the serving cart, he turned back to Cramer. "Joyce, again, I'm on your side. Rest up. We'll be in touch with you a day or two after you turn in your statement. We'll set up a time for the interview. Don't worry about it, I'll rein in anyone who gets out of line with their questioning."

"I won't bother Ms. Turcott since she's lying down, but I'll be back to thank her for assisting Deputy Goodman in saving your life."

Tate shook Joyce's hand, then turned to go.

Jeff met him in the doorway. "I'll walk you out Sheriff. Why don't you just stay for lunch?"

Tate slapped Jeff on the shoulder and turned down the hallway. "No. I've imposed enough this morning. I hated to tell Joyce some of the things I had to, but I had rather it be me instead of IAD or the DA's office."

A few minutes later, they stepped out the back. "So, does she need a lawyer or something?" Jeff asked.

"I don't think so, but with two agencies, plus the DA's office investigating, I'm afraid that someone will become too aggressive. That's what happened to me and it caused me a lot of misery. Plus there's a new assistant DA who is in charge of the DA's part of it. I've only talked to him a couple of times, and he was a real smartass to me."

"She'll have a lawyer," Jeff grimly said.

"Understand," Tate said, "I didn't tell her that she should get an attorney. And she damned sure shouldn't need one, but young DAs sometimes want to make a name for themselves."

"I read you loud and clear," Jeff said. "Loud and clear."



-------

Chapter 79


MONDAY — SEPTEMBER 23

..."Understand," Tate said, "I didn't recommend to her that she get an attorney. And she damned sure shouldn't need one, but young assistant DAs sometimes want to make a name for themselves."

"I read you loud and clear," Jeff said. "Loud and clear."

"Good," Tate said. "I've recommended to the DA that this guy shouldn't be the investigator, but seems like that landed on deaf ears. This young assistant DA is in charge of the case instead of someone who knows what he is doing, as in one of the homicide detectives. I'm afraid that the DA will insist that this turkey be the one to 'interview' her. The DA likes to flex his muscles when he can — looks good at re-election time. But if he does it this time, he's liable to wind up with a lot of egg on his face. All I'm asking for is an honest investigation, and I've promised Joyce that she isn't in trouble — at least with my organization.

"Investigating law enforcement makes big headlines, and it's a good time to keep the DA's name in front of the public during election year."

Tate leaned back against his Crown Vic. "Enough of that for now. Hear you're looking for a mining engineer. I know one who is retired and was one of the best. What are you looking to mine around here? I suppose there's granite under here, although I don't know whether it would be profitable to mine."

Jeff grinned at Tate. "Sheriff, did anyone ever tell you that you were as full of shit as a Christmas turkey?"

Tate burst out laughing. "Actually, my wife does quite frequently, and sometimes even more eloquently than you just did."

Jeff looked hard at the Sheriff. "If you know that I'm looking for a mining engineer, then you probably know why I'm looking for one, also."

Tate put up both hands for a moment. "Easy, Mr. Matthews. Just like I told Deputy Cramer a few minutes ago, I'm not your adversary. Hell, I'd be a fool to be. You're the guy that gave us the money for the vests, not to say anything about enough ammunition for our pistol team to practice with for a couple of years. My motives are simple and close to home.

"I think you're going to make some kind of stronghold in case something goes wrong. I guess what I'm asking is: do you know something I don't? Do you think we're going to be attacked, or something? Do we have something worse than 911 coming down the pipe? Do I need to make some drastic preparations?"

Jeff stared hard at the Sheriff, seeing only truth in his face, and feeling the same. "I ... don't know anything that you don't, well in general, anyway. I'm just in the planning stages for building an area for my family and close friends to have a place of total safety where they can stay for a year or two — if need be."

The silence drew out as Tate scuffed the sole of his boot on the asphalt for a moment, thinking. "I can't offer any money, well, at least, not enough to make any real difference to a big project. And I guess I don't fall into that 'close friend' category, but I am familiar with the bureaucracies around here. I'll bet they'll frown on your mining this mountain, and when they find out why, they'll dig up all kinds of rules to stop you — just because they fucking can. You're not a mining company so there's no downside for them in showing off their power by jerking you around. They'll dig up all kinds of rules to stop you. And that's just the bureaucracies. There are people here who try to stop any construction they don't understand, and some who try to stop any construction, period."

Tate stared Jeff in the eye, suspecting that the tall man could easily tell if he were telling the truth. "I won't violate the law, but I'll bet you a gold nickel that I can make some of those inspections and red tape a lot easier to swallow. All I ask is for you to consider me and mine as friends if the shit hits the fan."

Jeff hesitated a moment, then put out his hand. "Done," he said, simply. "I'll get you with my project manager. Hell, we'll have a meeting and brainstorm this thing. Chances are that you'll have a lot of input that we haven't even considered."

Jeff thought for a second. "Why don't you and your wife come up for supper tonight? We'll get to know each other. I'd just about bet that Deputy Goodman will be here to check on Turcott," Jeff laughed.

Tate pulled out a business card, jotted his home phone number on the back, then handed it to Jeff. "Why don't you check with your wife before we make any solid plans. I wouldn't want to commit..."

"I'll do that Sheriff, but my wives ... uh, my wife is probably way ahead of us."

Tate grinned at him. "Now, I'm pretty certain that you're damn sure smart enough to not make a slip like that, and the answer is that my wife knows how to keep her mouth shut. And as long as you're only legally married to one of them — which, I'm not going to check, well, I couldn't care less. And besides that, it's none of my business unless someone is being hurt or forced, and from the looks of those women, that's far from the case."

"Thanks, Sheriff. I'll have Diana call your wife. Let the women take care of the when and how."

"Well, if I'm going to fall into that 'friend' category, my name is Quinton."

Jeff laughed. "Good deal. And please use Jeff. That 'Mr.' just makes me remember my dad."

-------

Jeff stood watching the Crown Vic as it passed out of sight toward the front of the house. Surely, the DA won't hassle Joyce about the shooting. Shit, DAs are elected. With as much publicity as the news media has given her, she's become a hero, especially to the women, if my wives are any indication. Not to say anything about the nurses at the hospital treating her like she walked on water.

And why would the DA send some hotshot assistant DA to do the interview? Looks like he would do the interview himself, claiming a personal, hands-on investigation since it's a cop-involved shooting. Making certain that there was no "cover-up" by the Sheriff's department, then an honest investigation exonerating Joyce, would gain a lot of votes for a DA, and absolutely guarantee the entire law enforcement vote. This doesn't make sense,  he thought again. But Quinton was concerned. There has to be more to this. Something that we haven't thought of. Shit, Joyce has been through enough without some politician getting on his hobbyhorse. But if I just knew why.

Turning back to the retreat, he hurried to call his lawyer.

-------

Shortly, Jeff was on the phone with Fontaine (the Denver Lawyer).

After the pleasantries, "We're ready for the closing on the Thompsons' farm, at your convenience. Mr. and Mrs. Thompson say that any time this week will be fine with them."

"Uh ... Let me get back to you on the time. I have something else on my mind right now. Do you have a couple of minutes for some background?"

"I'm all ears. But wait just a minute and let me tell my assistant to hold my calls for a while."

Jeff spent the next ten minutes filling in the details of Joyce's adventure, including what the Sheriff had said and the concerns he had voiced.

"Yes, we've been following the story on TV and were almost certain that she was the lady that you brought with you to the office the other day. How is she doing?"

"She's recovering nicely, but she doesn't need this bullshit — especially right now. She came awful close to death."

The attorney was silent for a moment after Jeff finished. "My first thought is that the DA is about to commit political suicide. But then, it's not actually the DA that's doing the investigating; it's the assistant. So there's going to be some degree of plausible deniability, should this go bad for him. The thing that puzzles me is that he's got to know that this deputy did everything by the book, so to speak — assuming, of course, that what you have told me is accurate. I mean, for gosh sakes, there is an audio recording of the whole thing."

Fontaine paused again. "Look Jeff, this obviously isn't my area of expertise. But I have a friend who is the best in the business. He's expensive, but there are none better. None. Let me discuss this with him. The whole thing just doesn't make sense. But for certain, don't let Deputy Cramer talk with anyone involved in the investigation until Tyler talks to the two of you. Uh, he might take this as pro bono since he likes cops..."

"Not necessary," Jeff broke in. "I'll finance it."

Fontaine chuckled. "In that case, expect a call from him shortly. I just talked to him a few minutes ago and he didn't act like he was overwhelmed with work. Said something about getting up a foursome to play a little golf. But I'm interested in this, too. There's something going on that we haven't thought of yet. Stick around the phone," he said, absently hanging up without even saying goodbye. His mind already working on the puzzle.

-------

Jeff found everyone in their suite. Sitting beside Joyce on the bed, he took her hand. "The Sheriff is upset. He promised you that this investigation would go smoothly — cut and dried. But he's now concerned with this assistant DA insisting upon being the one to interview you. I've talked to Fontaine — the lawyer we went to see about the property the other morning — and he's going to have one of his friends call back."

Jeff could see the color drain from her face, and he squeezed her hand.

"Now, before you get too upset, the Sheriff reminded me that it was election year and the DA would probably like to keep his name in the news. Tate is firmly in your corner, adamant that you did everything by the book, but he keeps saying that there has to be another reason. Unless I miss my guess, he's already about figured out what's going on. He seemed a little distracted when we were talking. I'm thinking that he knows, but isn't totally sure, and maybe can't tell me."

"So, do I need to hire this lawyer who's going to call?"

Jeff looked down for a second as he decided what to say. "The two of you," he said, looking back into her eyes, "are part of us now. When Joyce tried to say something, he shushed her. "It doesn't make any difference if you officially become part of our family tomorrow, or six months from now. You both are part of us. So let's go from there..."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caitlin get up just as Joyce turned and wrapped her arms around him. Then Caitlin did the same. Laughing, he toppled over backward on the bed to pull them tightly against him. Both young women were crying and trying to kiss him. "Whoa. What's going on? I've said essentially the same thing several times, and usually gotten arguments. What's changed?"

Sniffing, Caitlin said, "I talked to Daddy last night while we were sleeping. Oh, it was a make-believe conversation, and I was probably ninety percent asleep. But we had a long discussion." Thinking Jeff's expression was drifting toward the negative, she quickly stressed, "I did say it was a make-believe conversation, but I guess I just had to talk to him one way or another."

Ann handed both young women tissue. Joyce grabbed Caitlin and hugged her, both of them sobbing for a few minutes. They both wiped their eyes then blew their noses at the same time, causing mutual laughter. By then, they were sitting back up and all Jeff's wives had gathered as closely as they could.

"Anyway," Caitlin got out, her voice going up an octave before she could control it, "Daddy and I had a long talk just like we used to. I told him all about you, and how you had ... healed Joyce. He wanted to know all about Little One, and about all of you," she said, looking around her.

"I know that you all think I'm silly..."

"No, we don't," a chorus rang out that even impressed Jeff, possibly because his voice had been in exact sync with his wives. Then they all looked at him the way a mother looks at her toddler who has just taken his first successful steps.

"Don't even start," he mumbled as the giggles started anyway.

"We don't think what you're telling us is one bit silly," Diana assured Caitlin. "Please continue."

"Well, there's not much to say, other than I guess some of it was a dream because the night was over quickly. But I told Daddy everything that had been happening since ... he's been gone. I told him how much I like being a nurse and some of the things I had done. How proud I had been the first time someone lived because of me. Oh, I told him all about Joyce's job and how she was doing. I told him how close she had come to dying and how scared I was. How I had already lost him, and just couldn't imagine being in this world all alone."

Caitlin stopped for a moment. "I told him all about you, Jeff. Oh, I had already told him about how you had seven wives and how happy everyone was, but I told him about ... how it felt to be with you. How you had made love to us in the shower and later in the bed, but that you wouldn't penetrate us until we were sure. And I told him that I just couldn't because it would be like cheating on him."

Caitlin looked over at Joyce. "We cried together for a long time. Well, a lot of what we said I just want to ... well, I'll tell Joyce everything, eventually. I already told her earlier about talking to Daddy. But I'll tell you every word sometime soon," she said to her sister. "It was the most vivid dream that I've ever had," she finished.

Jeff didn't have the foggiest notion of what to say, so just hugged them and waited.

Quietly, Caitlin continued, "I guess I really don't know why, but I'm more at peace about Daddy's death than I've been since it happened. Oh, I still miss him every bit as much, and now that I've 'talked' to him, that part is probably even worse, but somehow I'm not feeling guilty any more. He was adamant about me moving on with my life, and he made it clear that he meant Joyce, too."

Caitlin sat still for a moment. Taking Joyce's hand, she brought it to her lips and kissed it. "I didn't tell you this before. I guess because I worried I was pushing my luck as it was, but he told me to tell you that you could talk to him just like I could, any time you wanted to."

That started the tears again, and both women hugged each other for a moment. When they pulled apart, Caitlin looked at Jeff. "I was the instigator of our little surprise for you this morning. I still didn't have everything straightened out in my mind at that point, but I do now. It's been me holding Joyce and me back. She wouldn't move forward without me, but I've finally gotten my act together."

Diana locked eyes with her husband, motioning slightly with her head. He glanced around the room just to check, although this had all been discussed before. Moving from between Joyce and Caitlin, he knelt on the carpet before them. "Joyce and Caitlin, will you marry us? Become one with us?"

Two pretty, young women trying to giggle and cry at the same time launched themselves at him. Jeff wrapped them in his arms and squeezed until they squealed.

Pulling back a little, they looked around them addressing all the wives as well as Jeff. "Yes," they said, simply. Then, "Forever."

When the kisses were done, there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

-------

Twenty minutes later, attorney Tyler Patton called. "Mr. Matthews, I've just gotten off the phone with Chuck Fontaine. If you and Deputy Cramer wish for me to review what has been happening with her recent unpleasantness, I suggest that we meet in my office this afternoon. I certainly don't want her writing out an account of this situation until we have discussed it in detail."

Jeff interrupted before the lawyer could go on. "I totally agree with you, but why don't you come up here for a late lunch, then you and Joyce can discuss this in private? We have a well-equipped office that can be at your disposal, and to be frank with you, with what seems to be going on, I would be ... very much more pleased if the meeting took place up here. Of course, I'd be perfectly willing..."

Jeff had started to tactfully say that he knew that taking the attorney away from his office for the afternoon would cost him more, but surprisingly, Patton didn't argue, even broke in to say, "Certainly, Mr. Matthews. If you would be so good as to give me your address, I'm sure my GPS will find you."

"In addition to that," Jeff said. "Just give me your fax and I'll send you a map we've made up for the purpose, along with our address and phone number. There are only a few different roads, but the last ten miles or so are extremely curvy. However, I think you will be pleased when you get here."

After a brief discussion between Joyce and the attorney, she hung up and turned to Jeff. "I know that this is going to cost an awful lot of money, and you know that I don't have it." When Jeff tried to say something, she motioned for him to wait. "I know. I know. You're going to pay for it, and I suppose that I don't have any options other than to accept. Well, even though we've said that we will marry you, it just seems..."

"Remember, Baby," Jeff said taking her hand. "You're part of us. None of my other wives would even blink when thinking that I would pay for something, because the money belongs to all of us. When it becomes official and I put a ring on your finger, you'll begin to realize that we're serious about this as a marriage. I don't have a bunch of women who say they're my wives. They are my wives. But as far as we're concerned, meaning my present wives and me, the commitment became official when you accepted my proposal. So what's ours is yours."

Leaning back and crossing his legs, he grinned at Joyce. "I suspect that unless this new assistant DA is a damn fool, the instant he sees the attorney, he'll realize that his plans for a name for himself — if that's what this is all about with him — might well be shot to hell." Jeff hesitated for a second. "I just thought of something else. I'm going to call Tate and insist that the other agencies be represented when they interview you. Tate was trying to keep it down to one person to question you to help relieve the stress and not tie you up for an extended period of time, but I don't trust this guy, at least from what Tate says. It might help to keep him straight if there are two other professional investigators in that meeting."

"Of course, I agree with him about not having three separate meetings. They'll all probably have another question or two later so the three meetings would soon be six. This way, at least it should be just one or two meetings. And it's going to be on our turf. You've been injured and are still far from one hundred percent," he said, pointedly.

Jeff had expected Joyce to be upset about the turn of events, and she was, but then her face changed from a look of worry that her voice reflected. "I'm beginning to be pissed about this. Why is the DA going after me? Any fool could listen to that tape and know that I had no choice if I were going to save Turcott."

"Baby, he doesn't care about right, if what Tate suspects is true. He just wants to look good himself."

"Well, let the son-of-a-bitch come after me. If he tries to prosecute me, I'll make a fool out of him on the witness stand."

"Baby, that's what the attorney is for..."

"Oh, I know that, but I've made the jury laugh at the bungling of a defense attorney before as he asked me stupid questions, or when I answered him a little more fully than he expected, or wanted, or made no effort to hide something that he thought I would. Just because he's a lawyer, doesn't mean he's God. They can make mistakes, too — become overconfident. It's just not fair that he's making us spend all this money just so he can have a little glory."

"Maybe this assistant DA won't be as bad as the Sheriff expects him to be," Diana offered.

Jeff looked at her. "Maybe."

-------

A little later, Jeff, Joyce and Caitlin stood on the range. The wind was blustery with a heavy overcast, the temperature just over forty degrees. Joyce had wanted to fire a few rounds through her borrowed weapon, and Caitlin had asked Jeff to begin her shooting lessons.

Jeff had put up two of Joyce's qualification targets, then he and Caitlin stood back to watch Joyce work her way through a qualifications course. Joyce had been unusually quiet and tense. As soon as she fired a stage of the course, she immediately began reloading her magazines for the next stage, making few comments. So far, her group was tight, though, the best Jeff had seen her shoot.

"I thought she would be upset the next time she picked up a gun after what's happened," Caitlin said, looking up at Jeff as they stood with arms around each other watching the pretty deputy shoot.

"She probably is," Jeff said, watching Joyce move to the next yard line, check her watch, draw and commence firing the next stage. "She knows she is, and is determined to not let it affect her score."

"I love her," Caitlin quietly said after a moment.

"And I love both of you," Jeff commented as he watched his wife-to-be hammer out a perfect rhythm of rounds, drop a magazine, smoothly replace it taking only a couple of seconds, and continue firing.

"But Diana and Arlene can easily outshoot her, can't they?" Caitlin said, again looking up at Jeff.

Jeff sighed a little, then motioned to a couple of chairs near where they were standing in the range house. Sitting on one, he pulled Caitlin onto his lap. "Diana and Arlene are unusual people — not that all my wives aren't," he quickly added. "But Diana will tell you more about herself and her Queen Bitch status..."

"I've heard comments about that from several of your wives, usually with a little bit of a grin, but even so, they seem to be serious about it. Diana has even referred to herself, teasingly, by that name ... and the Boss Bitch as well," she finished, grinning.

"Again, as I said before, she and the others have a lot to tell you. According to the healer, she's enhancing my abilities and some things about my wives. Dormant abilities that I supposedly have, and probably them too. Whether what she says is accurate or not, you'll soon see that Diana is different, and unless I miss my guess, you'll agree that Arlene, though a lot younger, isn't far behind her. Diana has had a lot more firearms training than any of my other wives, but even so, her abilities have markedly increased since we've moved up here."

"She's a dominant personality," Caitlin mused. "But, I am too. I hope..."

"Think about it," Jeff said, readjusting her on his lap so there was less pressure on his groin, but Caitlin tried to squirm her way back. Jeff tried to concentrate. "Uh, Laura almost literally fought her way to the top of a big IT department. Helen has so many degrees that we lose count, not to mention she's a certified genius," he said, grinning at the "certified." "And all the girls have excelled in school as well as taking on the duties of wives — and I'm not talking about sex, Smarty," when Caitlin's grin got bigger.

"I was enjoying that," Caitlin said, referring to sitting on his dick, as she tried to put a pout on her face.

Jeff chuckled. "I was enjoying it, too, but you were also putting pressure on my balls..."

" ... And you have big balls that I like to play with," she said sliding her hand down beside her to massage his recumbent cock through his pants.

Jeff kissed her hard to try and distract her, but that didn't work. She only increased her efforts to get him fully hard — which didn't take long.

Taking his lips from hers, he held a finger under her chin, looking into her eyes. As he started to speak, Caitlin beat him to it. "I told you that I ... came to an understanding with Daddy. I've already told you that I'm in love with you. Worrying about Daddy was all that was holding me back."

Having far fewer orgasms in the last few days than was normal for him, Jeff was far from being sexually satisfied. Gently taking her hand from his now rock-hard cock, he tried to readjust himself in his pants. "Baby, I really thought you would want to wait until after the ceremony, and certainly wouldn't want your first time out here on the range. But if you keep messing with my dick, you're going to be bent over that table over there before you realize it."

Jeff gently took hold of her hand that was stroking his dick through his pants. "I told Little One to check you out last night, but I haven't asked her whether she has started your birth control yet. I assume she has, since she did it without my telling her to with all the others, but trust me, I have enough come built up to fill you. And while I would love to pump you full out here, fucking you doggie style against the table might, perhaps, be a little less romantic than you would like our first time to be ... Not to say anything about putting a baby in you while we were at it."

Caitlin pulled her hand free and ran his zipper slowly down, then reaching in, she got hold of his cock. After unsuccessfully trying to get his long dick to come out the front of his pants, she undid his belt, unsnapped and pulled the clothing partway down, having to nudge him to get him to lift his ass a little, freeing his cock in the process. Not liking it just sticking out the front of his shorts, she said, "Raise up again," then pulled his shorts and pants past his groin.

Jeff had only offered very token resistance until the cool air hit his butt. "Shit baby, this chair is cold..."

Somehow, the sentence didn't get finished as Caitlin's warm mouth pushed over the head of Jeff's cock. Sliding her hand under his balls, she gently kneaded them as she moved her head up and down, sucking hard.

"Oh, shit," Jeff hissed through clenched teeth.

"I thought Jeff was going to start teaching you to shoot," Joyce said as she walked up a few minutes later to put her shooting tray on the table near them. "Look at my group," she said, unfurling the rolled-up target in front of her.

"Ummm hummm," Caitlin said cutting her eyes to the side to glance at Joyce. It was debatable whether she ever focused on the target or not.

"Good group," Jeff mumbled, his voice strained as he turned his head, tearing his eyes off the sight of Caitlin kneeling between his legs with his cock in her mouth. "What was your score?" he asked inanely as Caitlin sucked harder.

"You have to ask with a group like that?" Joyce said, motioning to her tight group in the center of the target.

"That's nice," Jeff absently answered as he watched Caitlin's cheeks hollow as she sucked hard again.

Joyce would have stamped her foot if she had thought of it. But her sister did look sexy with her lips stretched around Jeff's big cock.

"Oh, shit, Baby. I'm getting close," Jeff groaned as Joyce gave up, folded her target and put it under her shooting tray to weight it down from the wind. (The range house only had a roof with a rear wall on the back. But Dave had designed it so that side walls could be quickly attached in sections, although they weren't up today.)

Joyce grinned at the two as Caitlin, her hand jammed into her jeans, brought Jeff off.

"Here ... it ... comes," Jeff gasped as his ass lifted off the seat.

Joyce heard Caitlin's muffled groan as she sucked and swallowed several times, then an astonished look on her face, she started frantically swallowing again. After a moment, she moaned and shook as her orgasm overtook her.

Joyce, still wearing her gun belt, knelt beside Caitlin, brushed her hair out of her face to stare at Caitlin's stretched mouth. The nurse continued to hold Jeff's cock in her mouth, giving it an occasional light suck, her tongue still cupping the underside as she basked in the aftermath of a powerful release.

Joyce leaned forward to kiss the side of her lover's mouth and to lick a drop of come away. While she was there, she licked Jeff's cock where it disappeared into Caitlin's mouth, occasionally kissing and licking Caitlin's lips.

Caitlin moved her mouth a little on Jeff's cock, her eyes closing from time to time as she basked in the sensations of lust and his pheromones pouring into her. Although she had taken her hand away from her pussy, she could feel another orgasm coming on. She clenched her legs tightly together and shivered, the orgasm building as Jeff stretched down to tug on her nipples through her top while Joyce stroked her back and continued to kiss and lick her juncture with him.

After a while, Caitlin sat back, then gradually leaned until she was prone, a silly little grin on her face, appearing to be mostly out.

Joyce managed to get Caitlin's legs out of the way, then took her place, her mouth descending on Jeff's still-hard cock.

"Look, Baby, this is too one-sided. Let's go in the house where I can properly make love to you two."

Joyce had just pushed her mouth onto Jeff's cock, but she pulled back to say, "One sided? If so, then it looks like my sister had all the fun. A little more and she would be totally unconscious."

The issue decided as far as she was concerned, she resumed sucking Jeff's cock as she slid one hand under his balls to cup them, and used the other hand to stroke the base of his cock. Stopping for a moment and looking up at Jeff, she said, "Relax. We told you that we would marry you. You said that we were already part of everything. That 'everything' includes giving our man blowjobs. We did it in the bed and you didn't object. What's the matter now? Besides, sucking your cock is a sure way to an orgasm for us, too."

Jeff sighed and leaned back, the cold of the metal chair against his butt long forgotten. Relaxing away from worries, he concentrated on coming, almost automatically feeling with his mind for part of Joyce's mind that would accelerate her pleasure. She moaned around his cock and sucked harder, her cheeks hollowing, her breathing picking up.

-------

Jeff's wives had gathered near the big television in the living room. As the scene on the range heated up, Diana turned to Linda. "Sweetie, we don't have any problem with you watching my husband, Joyce and Caitlin make love, but you, Dave and Evie aren't married yet..."

"But, how else am I going to learn?" Linda said tearing her eyes away from the screen for a moment.

Diana took her by her arm, gently guiding her toward the door. "Dave and Evie will teach you. I don't want to make your father mad at us, and well ... Dave might think that this is his privilege to introduce you, and to be frank, I think he would be right. Now it won't be long before your wedding, so why don't you go back to your suite or their apartment for a few minutes? We'll call you when it's time to fix lunch."

Linda started to protest, but changed her mind, hugged Diana, then jogged down the hall.

"She'll have it on in her suite," Helen said when Diana rejoined them.

"I know," Diana laughed. "But it's one thing to 'sneak' and watch, but I still think that Dave and Evie would be uncomfortable with this. Besides ... oh, wow. Where did the reserved Caitlin go?" she finished as Caitlin pulled Jeff's pants down.

Due to the roof on the range house, the closest security camera with an angle to view inside was more than seventy-five yards away. But Wainwright had installed cutting-edge technology, and he hadn't spared on the optics, either. The high resolution large-screen TV in the living room was perfect for the job as well. The computer obviously tried several techniques on the sound. What it settled on had a little "tinny" quality due to the distance, but their voices were still easily recognizable.

Diana and her sister-wives thoroughly enjoyed the show, but were afraid to become too intimate with each other lest Linda come running back and catch them — still they didn't hesitate to touch themselves, fondle their own breasts or pull on a nipple. But instead of being relaxed when Jeff and his new wives-to-be were finished, they were primed.



-------

Chapter 80

In her suite, Linda lay on her bed, her pants and panties pulled down below her butt. Sighing, she aimed the remote toward the television as Jeff, Joyce and Caitlin gathered their equipment.

That was so sexy. All Dave will do is suck my nipples and play with my pussy a little through my clothes. I'll wait until we're married to have that big dick of his up me, but it's time he taught me some of the other things. I know that there has been a lot going on, but we need to set a date. It's way past time.

Pulling her things the rest of the way off her legs, she went to clean up and put on fresh panties. Dressed a little later, she went to help with lunch.

-------

Caitlin didn't fire a single round after all, but if she thought of it, she didn't mention it. She, Joyce and Jeff kissed and hugged as they gathered their equipment. Walking toward the garage, both women had an arm around Jeff.

After storing their equipment and closing the garage door, Jeff picked Caitlin up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Jeff, put me down," she demanded kicking her feet and laughing.

He ignored her, hugged Joyce to him and walked toward the house. With his hand on Caitlin's ass to keep her on his shoulder, he found that he could sneak his thumb between her legs to caress her clit and pussy as they walked. Caitlin's squeals of indignation soon turned to quiet moans and gasps. When he put her on her feet near the kitchen, her face was flushed from more than the ride on his shoulder.

As they entered the kitchen where Diana and Laura were beginning preparations for lunch, Diana hugged her husband, then Joyce and Caitlin. "We watched you guys with the security system," Diana said while pulling her long hair back and tying it out of her way.

Caitlin slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh my gosh. I mean, we knew that you didn't mind. It's just..."

"Sexy as it could be," Diana laughed.

"I'm so embarrassed," Caitlin whispered. "I never thought about the security system. Could you see... everything?"

Joyce just stood and grinned.

"Are you kidding?" Diana teased. "That's Frank Wainwright's system. We could see the come on your cheek and hear every word."

"Oh ... my ... gosh," Caitlin whispered. "I think I'm going to just die of embarrassment."

"Why?" Diana laughed. "You're shortly going to be part of a multiple marriage. Oh, occasionally our husband will pick us up and carry us into a room to make love to us in private, but with our connection between all of us, it makes little difference. Oh, the others won't feel it as intensely if he does that, but there is no such thing as doing it without all our sister-wives knowing — and feeling our lovemaking. If we're very close, or touching, it's almost as intense for the rest of us as it is for the one who is actually experiencing it."

Caitlin's face still blazed red. "Why aren't you embarrassed?" she asked, turning to Joyce.

Joyce just grinned at her. "The question is, why are you? We didn't make love to your dad separately. I don't remember your being overly embarrassed then."

"Yeah, but ... Oh, we practically grew up together."

Laura, who had been standing back just listening, stepped over and hugged Caitlin. "We'll soon be your sister-wives. Then after our man fucks you unconscious a time or two in that big bed with the rest of us, you will wonder why you were ever embarrassed."

During their conversation, Jeff had been making coffee, trying diligently to act like he wasn't paying any attention to their conversation.

Remembering that he had left his favorite mug in the living room, he had just decided to go and get it when Diana turned to him. "I got a call just a few minutes before you three came in. Patton (the criminal defense attorney) should be here in thirty minutes or so — assuming he doesn't get lost. He's bringing Fontaine (the Denver attorney that Jeff used before {civil litigation and business attorney}) with him, plus each of their assistants."

Jeff grinned down at her. "It takes two lawyers and their assistants to critique Joyce's letter that she took thirty minutes to write?"

Diana reached up and absently adjusted his polo shirt collar. "That shirt looks good on you," she quietly said, wanting to take up where Joyce and Caitlin left off. Mentally shaking herself, she brought her mind back to business. "I got the impression that they were more interested in seeing the retreat. Patton suggested that they stop at Kentucky Fried in Winter Park to bring lunch with them, but I thanked him and said that we already had it started. Maybe both of them want to check out how we live."

Jeff shrugged. "From the looks of Fontaine's office, he's a far cry from being a pauper. And if this other guy is the hotshot defense attorney that Fontaine says he is, well ... I guess there are worse things than having a couple of lawyers take personal interest in us, so long as they don't look too closely." After a moment, he continued, "I probably need to straighten my office a little. They're probably going to want access to a printer..."

"Laura and I have been thinking about that. Suppose we grill some steaks on the big deck. We can seat you, Joyce and the four legal people at one of the tables to the side. We'll make sure you have a table with plenty of extra room. The rest of us can eat together to give you privacy. You can just have a business lunch. I'm sure it will take Laura all of a minute to grant them access to a printer on our system. Heck, I'll just move one onto the deck to make it convenient when they decide to print something."

"Whatever," Jeff said, not too excited about doing anything extra for an attorney that he didn't even know. "Just make sure that the girls keep it cool while these people are around. I don't know Fontaine well enough to trust him yet, let alone this other guy or their people. Be sure to introduce Alesha to them. If they want to think that we're a sucker to take in 'lost souls, ' it probably wouldn't hurt to distract their thinking in that direction."

Diana smiled at his worry. "We were careful to introduce Laura as your assistant, and Helen as the girls' teacher when we talked to Fontaine before. We'll do the same for Patton. Just be sure to keep your pheromones reined in so their assistants don't start after you."

Seeing the look on Jeff's face, Diana continued, "In addition to what Fontaine said about the guy being good, Laura, Helen and I did a little research on Mr. Tyler Patton. He's been involved in several very big cases, and he's old money as well. He comes from a family of attorneys that go back generations. I suspect that he is a bit full of himself, judging from the tone of some of the articles, but the guy darn sure doesn't have to work for a living."

At Jeff's deepening frown, Diana went on, "Old money," she repeated. "Notice how Frank acts. He's old money, regardless of how much more he's added to his empire."

Jeff sighed. "Baby, I don't know why, but whatever you're telling me just went right over my head. Who cares if the guy is 'old money?' I don't give a crap how rich he is so long as he takes care of this thing with Joyce."

"Oh, I'm confident that our new wife-to-be will have her problems solved shortly," Diana said, winking at Joyce, "but my interest in Mr. Patton is for other reasons. I'll let you know after we've been around him for a while."

Jeff had long since figured out that what he didn't know about females would take volumes to write, and what he did know would take about a page — subject to frequent change.

"So you want me..."

"To fire up the big grill on the South deck. Do you want to grill the steaks?" she actually managed to ask with a straight face.

Jeff didn't bother to answer. Damned if he was going to screw up a great piece of meat when he had a house full of fantastic cooks who all seemed to work on the same wavelength.

He goosed Laura and took off for the deck before they came up with something else for him to do. Laura took three or four steps after Jeff, but by then he was already through the door and gone. Turning back to the others, she grinned, her nipples tenting the front of her top.

-------

Patton, Fontaine and Jeff walked over to the side of the deck to look out over the grounds. The deck was constructed such that three sides were the building itself with the third side open. Even it could be closed off from the outside with a large sliding glass wall that closed with the press of a button. In the winter, a glass roof could be moved into place just as easily to keep out the cold and snow.

Patton casually leaned on the railing before looking down. Tensing up, he said, "I didn't realize that we were that high up. It must be thirty feet to the ground."

Jeff chuckled, as Fontaine leaned over a little to look down as well. "Yeah, most doors don't open at ground level, and all the decks are well off the ground. We have a few bears around, one that I got introduced to a little more intimately than I wanted," he laughed. "Plus with the volume of snow we have here in the winter, not to mention the drifts, well it just makes sense. Although I think the height here is more a matter of function than anything else. Of course my knowledge of the snow isn't personal — yet, but Frank tells us we're going to be in for a surprise," he finished, chuckling.

"I didn't notice any decks when we drove up," Fontaine said.

Jeff smiled at him. "The architect knew what he was doing, obviously. Generally, the decks are secluded and part of the architecture, and either can't be seen from ground level, or else are not very noticeable."

"Who built this ... you call it the retreat, don't you?"

"Frank Wainwright had it built. If you mean the builder himself, it was Henson Construction."

"Henson built this place? Small world," Patton laughed.

"Why? Do you know the guy?" Fontaine asked.

"Sure do. He built my lake house for me. I wanted a number of truly special things done. Instead of bidding the house, he talked me into going with total cost plus fifteen percent. It's a big place and I damn sure could have had it built cheaper, but he and that little wife of his delivered. It took a while to convince a couple of the people who I bought specialty items from that Henson wouldn't accept anything unless it was perfect — and I do mean perfect — but after that, things went smoothly. I've never had any regrets. I'd recommend his outfit any day."

Looking around him for a moment, Patton continued, "I'd like to see some of your, uh..."

"Home," Jeff supplied, grinning.

Patton chuckled, " ... home," he finished. "I'm sure if Henson built it, it is worth the tour."

"We'll have to do that after lunch," Jeff agreed. But you damn sure aren't going to see our suite,  he silently added.

Fortunately, Fontaine kept the focus on Henson. "I know Henson from Denver. He's getting into redevelopment there and just starting to make the transition from managing everything himself to managing his bosses and making deals. Didn't you introduce him as your project manager, Jeff?"

"Yeah," Jeff agreed. His assistant is running Henson Construction now, or at least transitioning into it."

They continued light conversation until Diana called them to eat.

-------

As Diana was seating the four legal people, she said, "Instead of having something more elaborate for lunch, we thought you might want to get down to business. Joyce has a copy of the recording. So we'll get out of your hair and finish up our food preparations."

After determining how each person wanted their steak cooked, she left Joyce, Jeff and the others at their table.

Joyce passed out a copy of her letter draft that she had written to her department. After everyone had read it, she played the recording. When it was over, there was silence for a while. Finally, Patton said, "That's ... very ... intense."

"And that's an understatement," Patton's assistant added.

"And this is a copy from the recorder at the Sheriff's dispatch office?" Patton asked.

"Yes. The Sheriff brought it to me. I know that's my voice on the tape, but I'm embarrassed to say that I sound a whole lot more tense than I remember being," Joyce replied. "And this is a transcript of the recording, also given to me by Sheriff Tate," she said, handing out copies.

"We all sound differently on a recording than we sound to ourselves. When we talk and hear our own voices, part of what we perceive is through bone conduction. The recorder doesn't pick that up, of course, so others, and the recorder, hear our voice slightly differently than we do," the attorney lectured.

"Oh, I know that. And I've heard my voice before, even recorded on the department radio, but every time I hear that recording..."

"That must have truly been horrible to face that maniac," Carolyn, Patton's assistant said.

"Oh, I'm just being a woman, I guess. I've heard some of the guys kidding about things they have gotten into that were just as bad. I mean really gross kidding. And the guy that was in the incident didn't seem to care. He just laughed with the rest of them. I heard one deputy kidding the other, saying something like, 'Ah, the only reason you didn't crap in your pants was you were too scared to think about it.'

"And the other one just laughed and said, 'Oh, I thought about it. I was just too locked up to be able to do it.'" Joyce cleared her throat, desperately afraid that her voice was going to crack. Sighing, she continued, "I don't know whether I'll ever be able to laugh about this or not, but right now, it surely doesn't seem like it," she finished, embarrassed.

Jeff reached over and took Joyce's hand for a moment. "I've seen guys freeze up in combat ... and pay for it with their lives. Anyone who hears that tape would have to agree that you acted in an exemplary manner. I think you're implying that there is fear in your voice on that tape. I disagree. I only heard determination. You were desperately trying to save Ms. Turcott's life, and you knew what that .44 would do to you if he fired."

Patton cleared his throat. "Mr. Matthews — not that I don't enjoy taking your money," he teased, "but are you people positive that the DA is going to pursue this? And Deputy Cramer, I certainly have some recommendations for your written account that you're required to give to your Sheriff and his investigators, but those recommendations are to help protect you from any future legal actions. Otherwise, the letter is well written and concise."

Jeff leaned back crossing his legs, obviously taking a moment to think. "Mr. Patton, Sheriff Tate has impressed me — very much. He isn't certain of this, but he says that this assistant DA was — excuse me ladies — a real asshole to him. Tate tried to get the DA to assign someone else to investigate the incident, but was blown off by the DA. You're here because of the Sheriff's concern."

"But it doesn't make sense," Fontaine broke in. "Deputy Cramer all but gave her life to save Ms. Turcott. She has a recording of the incident that is standard procedure for all radio traffic at the Sheriff's department. The DA is going to make an idiot out of himself if he tries to prosecute her..."

"Seems like there have been several DAs in the news lately who fit into that category, but who doggedly tried to prosecute innocent people, anyway," Jeff replied.

"Yes, and both of them got kicked out of office, prosecuted and lost their license as well," Patton commented.

"But how many have gotten away with it?" Jeff continued. "What if the person they're prosecuting doesn't have the money to pay the legal fees to get a competent attorney? You know it happens. Look how many people have been freed from prisons in the last couple of years because of DNA evidence that the technology couldn't support when they were convicted. They were just plain lawyered under."

Jeff's face was becoming flushed. Realizing it, he calmed himself. "I want you," he said, staring hard at Patton, "to prepare for the worst. Assume that the DA is going after Joyce with everything he can — even trumped up 'evidence.' Sheriff Tate is worried, and I respect his opinion. I haven't known the man long, but Joyce and I share that opinion of respect. I can't explain it to your satisfaction right now, but he is worried, I know it, and that makes me nervous."

Jeff leaned forward putting his arms on the table to be closer to the lawyers. "I really think that Sheriff Tate knows something about this — well at least in general — that he isn't confiding in us. Knows something or suspects something. He seemed preoccupied when he was talking to me about the DA."

Patton looked at Fontaine for a moment, silent communication taking place. "This doesn't make sense yet. It is highly unlikely that this is about Deputy Joyce Cramer, or due merely to a politically ambitious deputy DA. A screwup by him would hurt the county DA somewhat, so he has to have a motive here, and Sheriff Tate has confirmed that. A deputy DA so politically inept as to target Deputy Cramer to advance himself is not a threat to the DA. This means we have two people with unknown ulterior motives here, the deputy assigned to this investigation, and the elected DA. Occam's Razor says the simplest explanation is the best, i.e. we're not dealing with two different unknown ulterior motives, we're dealing with one motive shared by the deputy DA and his boss.

"Furthermore we cannot assume, until we know what the motive or motives are, that this will be the only threat coming. A hostile DA can cause a lot of trouble for one or several law enforcement officers. I intend to bring in some investigators and a political consultant, because I need local knowledge and I need it fast." He looked to Jeff, who nodded affirmation.

Patton resumed, "All right. One thing I would like to do is keep this first battle, and I do mean first battle, on Deputy Cramer's turf." Turning to Joyce, he continued, "Deputy Cramer, I assume that you are still recovering from being shot and almost killed by this ... Crawford person." Although the wording didn't imply it, the way the comment was delivered, everyone at the table knew that was to be all that the DA's office was to hear about Joyce's recovery.

Patton looked around him and grinned, "From your comments about the Sheriff and about his already coming up here, I would assume that he will send his investigators here rather than demanding that you come to the department for your interview, or interviews, as the case may be. I also think that it would be better if each agency involved interviewed you at the same time. Normally, this might not be the case, but I think the assistant DA, if indeed, he is going to do something a little out of bounds, will be more hesitant to do it with the other agencies' investigators present."

Jeff stirred and Patton's glance invited him to share. "I mentioned that earlier."

Patton nodded agreement. "I want friendly witnesses around for every possible contact Deputy Cramer has with anyone from the district attorney's office until she has returned to duty. Starting with this one. Furthermore do not assume that Sheriff Tate is friendly. He is hiding something. Probably he is everything we hope he is, but for the moment he is a player with an unknown motive who is not sharing enough details. At the very least he may be vulnerable in some fashion, or even another target, at which point his credibility could be questioned if he is the only witness who can refute false testimony against you."

Patton locked eyes with Joyce. "You're going to rewrite your statement to your department this afternoon. I'll be glad to drop it by the Sheriff's department on our way back, for I would like to meet the man. If we don't manage to leave here in time, I'll make an appointment and hand deliver it to him tomorrow. When we reach the interview stage, if the investigators or the assistant DA want you to tell what happened, I want you to read your statement to them. Each time you are asked a question, I want you to calmly sit there. Do not respond until you look at me. And I mean every time. I don't care if they just ask your name; look at me before you speak. If I want you to answer in a certain manner, I'll whisper it to you. Don't open your mouth until I tell you to with a nod of my head or a whispered comment."

Grinning, "If the DA starts to push, we'll just stand on the statement."

"But won't that make me look like I'm trying to hide something? Make me look guilty?"

Patton chuckled. "I'm here because you, Sheriff Tate and Mr. Matthews believe he'll be fishing for something to use against you. He will already have your statement. He's the one who is trying to make you look guilty. If he's intending to charge you anyway, or fishing for a justification to do so, then we're not going to give him anything to use against you. What can he do? If your Sheriff will back you in saying that you have complied with his regulations concerning the investigation — the statement of what happened — what can the DA do? He can't get you fired if the Sheriff is satisfied. He can only charge you with something that will be thrown out quickly and get him pasted by the media if we don't make any mistakes. I can't imagine this going past preliminary (Preliminary hearing is a legal proceeding used in some states in which a prosecutor presents evidence to a judge in an attempt to show that there is probable cause that a person committed a crime. If the judge is convinced probable cause exists to charge the person, then the prosecution proceeds to the next phase. If not, the charges are dropped) unless you're keeping something from me..."

"But I'm not," Joyce broke in.

" ... And I believe you. I'm just advising you to tell me everything about the incident or anything prior to it, if it has anything to do with the people involved. Anything. If you had a past relationship, for instance, with this person, it would be extremely bad for the DA to find out and your attorney not know about it..."

"What?" Joyce indignantly said, raising her voice. "I had never seen those people before I answered that call. That's preposterous."

"Just an example," Patton went on, not at all perturbed by Joyce's almost outburst. "Now that's out of the way, tell me anything that you could have done to change the outcome of the situation. Anything in your training. I know that your training must have prepared you for something of this nature. Any departmental rules covering this type of thing. By your departmental rules, should you have backed off immediately and waited for, say, a negotiator? I want to know about any avenue in reference to training or departmental procedures that the DA can bring up to show that you erred either intentionally, for lack of training, or through incompetence."

The frown was deepening on Joyce's face as Jeff reached over again to briefly squeeze her hand.

Joyce took a breath and sighed. "Oh, I know what he is doing," she told Jeff, ignoring the attorney who had started to grin at her. "No, I won't get rattled on the witness stand," she said looking hard at Patton. "And I'll be glad to loan you my copy of the SOP (Standard Operating Procedures) manual. Trust me, those rules were only one of many things that were going through my mind when he dragged Ms. Turcott into that room with me. A negotiator is certainly covered in our SOP, but there's a big 'if' in there as well. Things like 'if' a negotiator could conceivably get to the scene in time. Was the incident 'time critical?' It darn sure was. He was going to kill her — right then. That even comes through clearly on the tape ... There was no longer any option other than to fire. Even then, I almost waited too long, and he fired the same time I did, only he decided to shoot me before Ms. Turcott."

Their meals started arriving and the conversation died down somewhat as everyone thanked Diana and the girls for the food.

Later, as the legal people were finishing, Patton looked at Joyce. "Deputy, I don't want you to leave this building until I tell you that you can, other than a doctor's appointment, and I want to know about that beforehand so I can arrange for an investigator to accompany you. I don't want you to discuss this on the phone with anyone, not even me. Given the assumption that the DA has some type of agenda, then we're going to prepare for the worst, as Mr. Matthews suggests."

How diplomatic, Jeff thought, he took my comments and is running with them. I hadn't thought about being the subject of surveillance. I wonder if he knows how I got my fortune, and just what Frank's people can do if I ask.

Patton took a sip of his coffee that had just been brought to each of the lawyers, Jeff and Joyce. Both assistants stayed with a soft drink refill. "I hope that the Sheriff will share his apparent suspicions with me, but it isn't necessary. From now on, we're going to make this assistant DA earn his pay. But the more I think about what you two have told me today, the more I'm beginning to believe that you're being targeted to get at something or someone else..."

"Maybe so, but this involves my life and my job," Joyce broke in, indignantly.

"Yes it does," Fontaine agreed. Then looking at Patton, "For what it's worth, I'll do anything I can to assist you. I have some connections that might prove productive, but I'll wait for your go-ahead before I ask them anything, in case it might get back to the DA. My people probably aren't as hard to spot as yours."

Patton drummed his fingers on the table as he stared off into space. "Let's keep this as quiet as we can." Glancing back at Joyce, "Deputy, let's surprise this assistant DA — even in the meeting. I'll wait until you are all ready to start before I walk in. Before then, don't mention to anyone that you have an attorney, or that it would even cross your mind that you might need one for this so-called simple interview."

Turning back to Jeff, he continued, "Did you tell the Sheriff that you were going to obtain the services of an attorney for Deputy Cramer?"

Jeff shook his head. "What the Sheriff said and what he meant were two different things. I think he wants to maintain, for some reason, that he did not tell Joyce to get an attorney. But if you're asking whether he will refrain from telling anyone that Joyce has an attorney, I'd be amazed if we even have to ask him to do so. Unless I have totally read this man wrong, he is firmly in Joyce's corner."

"Good," Patton said rubbing his hands together in a gesture that anyone would recognize. "I'm looking forward to this. If the DA and his deputy want to play hardball, we'll be glad to accommodate him. I so like it up close and personal with someone who doesn't want to play it by the rules."

The girls came over and picked up the dirty dishes, smiling and cutting up as usual. They were soon back with small wine glasses which they placed in front of each of the legal people. Pouring from a bottle of wine that Patton recognized as being expensive, in addition to being an excellent vintage, Ann commented, "Diana has a steak that she would like for each of you to taste..."

"My goodness," Pam, Fontaine's assistant exclaimed. "I've eaten more than I should have already. I..."

"Oh, it's just a bite or two. We want to know what you think about the taste."

Diana walked over with a platter in her hand. Leaning over, she maneuvered two small pieces of steak onto each person's plate. "Before you ask," she said, "there is absolutely nothing on the samples of the steak — they weren't marinated in anything. No seasonings of any kind. The wine is to clear your palate, if you like. Otherwise," she laughed, "it's pretty darned good of itself."

Not overly impressed, but appreciating the obvious gesture of having him try something that Mrs. Matthews thought was good, Patton took a bite expecting nothing special. On the second chew, he stopped as the flavor seemed to wash across his taste buds, his appetite, even with a full stomach, returning with a vengeance.

He looked at Diana who stood smiling back, the empty platter still in her hand. Soon everyone was making comments about the delicious piece of meat, how the taste was unique, wanting to know what she had done to it.

Patton chewed and swallowed. He picked up his wine glass, then put it down again, not wanting to ruin the taste in his mouth. Clearing his throat, "Uh, Mrs. Matthews..."

"Diana."

Hesitating, wanting to keep everything on a more professional basis, he almost began again, when she said more forcefully, "Diana!"

Patton grinned up at her, knowing when he was beaten. "Well, Diana, obviously, by the look on your face you know that the piece of meat that I just ate, and that other tiny piece that is still sitting on my plate are special. I could add a number of adjectives such as wonderful, stupendous and more, but you already knew that they would fall short. So please, Diana, tell me where I can buy a truckload of this meat."

Diana watched as he cut the already small piece on his plate so that he could stretch it out into two bites. "It doesn't exist anymore."

"What..." all four of them said at the same time.

Fontaine grinned, already suspecting that the meat came from Carla's ranch, but he said it anyway, so the others could hear.

"This came from Mrs. Chalmers' ranch, didn't it?"

"Got it in one," Diana smiled back at him as she turned to set the platter on the wing of the grill.

"So why doesn't it exist any more?" Patton questioned, getting a little irritated.

Fontaine leaned forward a little. "Because she sold off her herd trying to stay ahead of the hospital's demands in order to have her husband treated for cancer. Terminal cancer as things turned out. But it might not have been if he had been treated on a timely basis. We," he said, nodding toward Jeff, "have suits pending against the hospital, an unscrupulous banker, and a real estate agent who was little better. Mrs. Chalmers might very well end up much better off financially by the time this is over. And I am not violating attorney client privilege. Jeff, who is financing the suit, told me a few minutes ago that I could share this with you. I had just gotten off the phone with Mrs. Chalmers when Diana told me that she was going to let you taste the meat."

"So there's a reason for me having the privilege of tasting this meat that doesn't exist any more."

Diana, her grin becoming bigger answered simply, "Yep."



-------

Chapter 81

Diana pulled out a chair and sat at the table with Jeff, Joyce and the legal people, a slight smirk on her face as she held Patton's eye.

"So why are you telling me this?" Patton asked. "If you had more of this meat, I would just say name your price. But since you don't..."

"Come late spring or early summer, Carla will probably have more, maybe even much more if my husband's idea works."

The flash went off for Fontaine. "The Thompsons' farm that we're closing on tomorrow," he said, leaning back in his chair and chuckling.

Patton looked at his friend, a frown beginning on his face. "Okay. So, you're in on this, too. Now how about sharing. You know damned well that I have enough curiosity for half a dozen people."

Jeff couldn't help but tease the attorney a little, too. "Well, if the rains haven't already made the ground too wet for the equipment to get in there and redirect that stream back to its old bed, Carla should be able to increase production by late spring. Otherwise, we'll have to wait until next summer to have a chance of increasing production of the special meat."

Patton felt his temper rising a little. He knew that they were teasing him, but he had enough control of his emotions to not let it show. Leaning back into the seat and tossing his napkin on the table, he waited, smiling. Just as he was sure Diana wasn't going to tell him more about the meat, she grinned and asked, "Ever hear of Vidalia onions?"

Patton blinked at the non sequitur. Fontaine chuckled.

"Okay. I'll bite," Patton said, but wishing she would get on with it. "Yes, I've heard of Vidalia onions, although I've never understood what all the praise was about. They just taste like onions to me."

"That's because they probably weren't true Vidalia onions," Diana said. "Trust me, any cook who has ever cut up a Vidalia onion has noticed the difference — no tears. And the true Vidalia onions are sweet, totally without the bitter, harsh taste of any other onion in the US."

Diana waited a moment to tease the lawyer a little more. "Know why Vidalia onions and this beef are similar?" she sweetly asked, motioning toward Patton's empty plate.

Patton grinned in spite of himself. There were worse things than being teased by this exotic beauty, he decided. Forcing his eyes to not stray to her breasts he answered, "I haven't the foggiest idea."

Diana moved in her chair causing her magnificent breasts to sway, then smiled as Patton lost the battle with his eyes for a moment.

"The reason they're similar is that each will only grow in a certain area. The Vidalia area in Georgia has a mild climate, sandy low-sulfur soil, and perhaps other things that make the onion sweet. To my knowledge, no one has ever been able to grow a comparable onion anywhere else. The beef is produced, with Carla's secret ingredients in the feed, on a small area on her ranch. Anywhere else and without the secret ingredient, and you have good beef, but not the beef you just ate.

"Carla and her husband first suspected that the taste was due to the water from the creek that borders three sides of her 'bottom land' pasture. But experimentation proved this was not true, or not entirely true. They finally decided that the taste change in the beef came from the cattle eating a particular type of grass on this one pasture in combination with the supplements that they were feeding the cattle. The same grass in other pastures did not produce the taste, however. The logical conclusion was that the grass grown near the creek, which mainly feeds from the adjacent mountains, in combination with the ingredients of the feed that her husband devised, is the reason for the great taste change in the meat.

"The sandy soil apparently allows the water to flow from the creek, or seep underneath, nourishing the grass that the cattle eat, and consequently changing the taste of the beef.

"So I can't buy a truckload of this, even when she has a new herd of cattle? But how much can I get? My wife loves caviar. I love a good steak. This makes a good steak taste like shoe leather compared to the meat I just ate. What must I do to get more?"

"Frank Wainwright's marketing people are going to handle Carla's marketing of this very special meat. He's already considering supplying only small amounts of this beef to really high-end restaurants. He knows several people that own this type of business and says that he can easily sell the meat for truly astronomical prices. But, well, Laura and I did a little research on you."

Noticing the frown around Patton's eyes, she continued, "Oh, does that bother you that we spent some time learning about the attorney that we were going to hire? I suspect that you have done this many times to people who you have represented, or otherwise have needed to know more detailed information about."

"Many times," Patton sighed, but nevertheless, a little aggravated that she had investigated him.

"And we noticed something that was of interest to us. To put it as tactfully as I can, you come from several generations of attorneys. Attorneys who have invested and increased the family fortune."

Patton forced himself to not frown, looking Diana straight in the eye. "And..."

"And ... I'll bet that you know and associate with like individuals. Individuals who will look for quality with little real consideration for price."

Patton nodded his head, almost imperceptibly.

"Individuals who would think nothing about paying what the average person would consider an appalling amount of money for one of those steaks."

Diana just waited.

Patton thought about having Chuck and Gail over and serving them the steaks. A slight smile crept onto his face.

"We ... Carla and Jessica, that is, have a niche product. A niche product that, under the right circumstances, can make them a lot of money. We ... my family and I, are determined to do all we can to help them. Frank is a very intelligent man, but so are you. And, you might know some people, some very wealthy people, that Frank does not know, and his marketing people might not contact. He's from Saint Louis, but you are local, and this would be a local product. We won't offer you part of the proceeds; this isn't about making money for us, nor for you. But..."

" ... But, we might work out a deal for a few steaks every now and then," Patton finished for her, the smile creeping across his face in earnest now, "if I manage to pick up a few customers for you. A few customers who might not be too concerned about the cost, so long as the quality is there."

"Exactly," Diana said, getting up and walking away without another word, remembering what Jeff used to say about shutting the hell up after you made the sale, before you talked yourself out of it.

Patton looked at Jeff. "That's quite a woman you have there," he understated.

Jeff just grinned at him, thinking, If only you knew. If only you really knew.

-------

The small plates and the wine glasses were cleared from the table. Patton made several notations on Joyce's statement. Joyce put her laptop on the table, booted up and opened the file as Patton allowed his mind to drift, letting his assistant take over for the moment.

He ran the names and introduction of the family over in his near-photographic memory as his eyes casually swept the deck. Used to luxury, having been raised in it, the underlying cost of the deck with its glass wall and roof barely registered. The beauty of the women did. He glanced at Matthews' wife, Diana, (somehow the name fit her exotic, regal air) as she stood looking over Matthews' assistant's shoulder. Laura. Yes, that was her name.

Amusement touched the corner of his mind for a moment as he realized that she had a stack of fanfold computer paper in front of her making notations on it as she shuffled pages. Who uses fanfold paper any more? he thought, then realized it was a printout of a computer program. She has to be the most beautiful programmer ever. And Diana must be a second wife. She's far too young to be the girl's mother. Either that or she has one hell of a good cosmetic surgeon. Probably the latter, because the daughter has a striking resemblance to the mother.

Patton tried to concentrate on what the teenage girls were talking so animatedly about as they argued, he supposed, over something on the screens of their laptops. Looks like a "business" lunch for them as well,  he mused to himself. Then he realized that the school that he was told that Doctor Boswell taught was apparently going on after lunch. They had motioned to a room as they had been shown in, saying it was their temporary classroom. I guess they decided to have a change of environment for a while.

Straining, he managed to overhear enough to realize that they were debating some very detailed instructions for Excel. Having used the program enough to be fairly competent with it, he continued to listen. Shortly, he realized that their conversation was well beyond what he could do with the spreadsheet.

As Patton continued to listen to snippets of conversation from the other table, he noted that Deputy Cramer had sent her file to the printer, making copies for everyone. He took his copy and quickly scanned it, finding one sentence with wording he still was not comfortable with. He underlined it for his assistant to correct, then a moment later heard Deputy Cramer object saying that was what had happened. Before he could say anything, his assistant explained the reasoning behind the change.

As Cramer retyped the sentence and sent the document to print again, Patton glanced up at Jeff, who grinned at him, obviously having deduced that Patton was listening to the conversation at the other table.

Again, the statement was in front of him. He read it carefully through twice. "This is acceptable, Deputy. If you agree with it, please sign it. I'll drop it by the Sheriff's Office on the way back to Denver. As I said, I would like to speak with the Sheriff for a moment, anyway."

Patton met Jeff's eye. Although Jeff had said little, he had frequently kept his eyes on Patton. Very aware of this, Patton thought, This is the guy who paid the mortgage off for the widow, and from Mrs. Matthews' comments about the meat, it's obvious that they are still helping her, and just as obviously not concerned about making any profit out of this for themselves.

Subtly glancing about him at the people on the deck, I can't remember ever being around this many people in a "family," as they call themselves, even including Deputy Cramer, who project a charisma the way they do — Matthews, particularly. But that wife of his isn't far behind him. Even the girls seem to as well. Somehow, I think these are people that I would like to know better.

Impulsively, "Mr. Matthews, Could I speak with you in private for a moment?" He had decided to halve his fee. He would rather have the goodwill of this man sitting across from him than to make a few thousand more dollars that he certainly didn't need. Besides, for what they were going to charge for the steaks, he might not be losing anything, after all. I'm hooked on those steaks. A little less money now might result in a lot more return next spring.

As they walked out into the hallway, Patton briefly put his hand on Jeff's shoulder as they came to a stop. "Mr. Matthews, I've had second thoughts about my fee."

Patton had opened his mouth to say that he was going to cut his fee in half and would talk to a couple of older families who enjoyed delicious food, but he startled himself with what came out of his mouth when he impulsively cut the fee even more.

"That isn't necessary Mr. Patton. I'm perfectly willing to accept your rates, as evidenced by the check in your pocket. I just want Joyce out of this — whatever it is."

Patton gazed into the piercing eyes of the tall man in front of him. "I think I had rather have you as a friend than make a few extra dollars," Patton found himself saying.

"I always pay my debts," Jeff said, and they both knew that he wasn't talking about money.

"Good enough," Patton answered, taking the check out of his pocket to give back to Jeff to exchange for one of far lesser value. But then Jeff amazed him again.

-------

Patton stood with Joyce just before leaving. "Again, speak to no one about this without my being present. Let me know through Chuck (Chuck Fontaine) when they schedule Deputy Cramer's interview. Have Mr. Matthews call Chuck and tell him that he can be in Chuck's office about the land deal, without specifying which land deal, and give the date and time for the interview, instead. Chuck will call me with your coded message. I want my being there to be a total surprise for this guy. I don't have court this week, and anything else I'll rearrange if there is a conflict."

Patton stood looking at Joyce for a moment. "You are remarkably well for someone who has stopped a .44 bullet. I'm no authority, but I have shot a .44 Magnum enough to know that it is totally amazing that you aren't, at the very least, still in the hospital. When the interview occurs, I don't want you wearing any makeup. I wouldn't care if your hair weren't as neat as it is today. I suspect that your chest is still very sore. Don't try to act as if it isn't during the interview."

Joyce stood looking at him.

"Are you still under a physician's care?"

"Well, the cardiologist said to call his office to set up a follow-up appointment."

"Excellent. I suggest that you make the appointment for the end of the mandatory two-week suspension." When Joyce frowned, he continued, "Deputy, from what the Sheriff has told Mr. Matthews, and from Mr. Matthews' instructions, we're going to proceed with the assumption that the DA's assistant isn't going to be ethical about this. I do not want you to lie about anything. But neither are we going to give him anything. If you appear to be moving slowly, and appear to him to be not fully recovered — which I strongly suspect is the case — then it is just one more small thing in our favor. I'd be amazed if the professional investigators will put up with him badgering you when you are obviously still recovering. Their objections will carry more weight than you realize.

"This assistant DA's attitude might very well be a shock to those investigators if this person is truly on a witch hunt, or has an agenda that we're unaware of. We might well lay a few traps for the young man so that he might not feel as sure of himself when he leaves the meeting. Above all, I want you to be assured that my staff and I will be on this. The DA doesn't have a chance of doing anything other than irritating, worrying and inconveniencing you. The evidence strongly points to the fact that you did only what you had to do, and indeed were empowered to do. This whole thing is senseless, and we are going to show them that they are making a mistake in pursuing it.

"Now, I will be doing some work behind the scenes, but I will be here well before the meeting. We will go over what you are to say again, but even so, remember, don't say anything until I give you the nod. And, again, speak to no one about this on the phone. Better yet, stay off the phone entirely. The less they know about you, the better."

"But surely, the DA's office wouldn't tap Jeff's phone. How could they get a judge to give them a warrant for that?"

"Who says that they did? And they can always lie. Don't misunderstand me. The American legal system is the best in the world, but there are many ways for unscrupulous people to circumvent the system. I don't know that they have tapped, or will tap Mr. Matthews' phone, but that doesn't prevent me from preparing. We're going to do everything — everything — we can. I have taken Mr. Matthews' directives seriously. If it's overkill, then we'll laugh about it later. Far better to do that than to be ill-prepared for something this person has cooked up. Just bear with me. Hopefully, one day soon we'll have that laugh together."

-------

After the legal people had left, Jeff sat in the living room with Joyce on his lap, Diana snuggled to his side. "So, where is everybody?" Jeff asked.

"Giving us time alone with Joyce, of course," Diana answered, smiling up at Jeff.

"Oh," Jeff answered, hugging Joyce to him. Then, "Patton offered to cut his fee considerably."

"That's a relief," Joyce sighed. "I never knew that an attorney cost so much. I mean, I knew they charged outrageous fees, but his scared me to death."

"I wouldn't take my check back. I thanked him, but told him we would talk about it later."

Joyce turned in Jeff's lap until she was facing him. "But why? If he thought he was overcharging..."

"Oh, he didn't think he was overcharging, and he probably had good intentions, but I, at least at this point, would rather operate under our agreement. I don't want him sloughing this off and getting involved in another case that pays better. He seems sincere, and I can't detect anything wrong. If he wants to give back some of the money afterwards, then we'll talk about it then."

"Oh, Jeff, I hate to think about costing you and Diana all this money. Surely we could have found someone cheaper..."

" ... And maybe not as good," Jeff inserted. "We have the money. I just hope this problem is cleaned up fast."

"I talked with Virginia while you guys were finishing with the lawyers. They're supposed to be here at seven for dinner."

"Virginia?"

"Well, you don't expect me to call her Mrs. Tate do you?" Diana chuckled.

"Remember what the attorney said about the phone."

"Oh, I delighted in it. I can just imagine some idiot having to listen to two women talking about dinner. I think the Sheriff already briefed her along those lines. She never mentioned Joyce. She and I just prattled on like we had been friends for years."

Jeff sniggered as he thought about the two women harassing any would-be listeners.

"Oh, and last night just before he left, I also invited Deputy Goodman to eat with us again. I think I appeased his conscience by telling him we would like for him to be a frequent visitor to help cheer up Alesha."

"So you're matchmaking again?"

"What do you mean, 'again?'" Diana giggled. "Besides, that match is already made. He's caught hook line and sinker. Alesha just has to reel him in."

Joyce smiled her agreement.

"And," Diana teased. "Jeff was just as easy. All I had to do was spread my legs. Three minutes later, we had a family started. Skipped right past engagement and marriage," she laughed.

"I lasted longer than three minutes," Jeff groused.

"Yeah, right," Diana giggled. "I started to say one minute. But before you start pouting, my time sense may have been a little off between the pain of having that big thing shoved up in me and coming my head off. But it was very little more than the two humps and a bear-down that you guys kid about. Except you could insert pregnancy in place of the bear-down."

Jeff had slipped a hand under her top while she was talking. Just as she finished, he pulled gently on her bare nipple, all the women, Joyce and Caitlin included, having gotten rid of their bras as soon as the visitors left. Diana, having felt Jeff's hand creep closer and closer to her nipple, was beyond ready when he finally pulled on the swollen bud. Within seconds, she shivered, her milk wet his hand and she came — hard.

Joyce giggled on Jeff's lap as Diana sighed, her head relaxing back onto the back of the couch. Joyce's giggle turned into a moan as Jeff slipped a hand between her legs to caress her nether lips through her shorts. His mouth covered hers as his mind automatically sought the push. Within moments, she felt a burning lust that roared over her as she screamed into his mouth, then slumped against him. As his mouth left hers, she gasped in air as the room seemed to swirl around her.

"You had better ramp that down Big Guy," Diana's voice tremulously said, "Or you're going to have all the others in here for their share — right now."

Jeff, far from a little excited himself, focused on the front of Diana's tight top. Obviously worn to excite him, the clinging material surrounded her long breasts, cupping and displaying them. Even as he watched, she preened for him, pushing her chest out more as she moved to make her breasts sway. He watched the already-wet area on her top spread as more milk dribbled because of her excitement.

"You have some real catching up to do tonight, Buster," she said. "Now I need to get my butt up and change my top. Evie called and said that the weather forecast was for six to ten inches of snow in the mountains tonight. She said it had started raining heavily in the valley already and they were going to be home before dark."

"Computer! Driveway camera eleven!"

Rain was coming down in sheets. Glancing at the outside temperature reading, he thought aloud, "Temperature is dropping like a rock. I'd better check out the plow, put the spreader on and load some salt and sand. With all the water coming down, there will soon be ice on the drive if the temperature keeps going down, even if the rain quits before turning to snow. There will be enough water running out of the overhangs to keep the road wet until it freezes, and we have company coming."

Joyce smiled at Jeff. "The Sheriff and Jesse know how to drive on snow, Mr. From The South."

"Yeah, but there are places on that driveway that are steep. And ice on those steep places could cause big problems for anyone. I'm not a total virgin. I've driven in several northern cities in the winter quite a few times, and I've darn sure seen lots of wrecks on ice."

Turning to Diana, he asked, "Remember the clip we saw on TV a year or two ago where there must have been eight or ten cars hit by this one car as it broke loose on black ice and went down this hill hitting and dislodging parked cars which in turn went on to hit others. The first car finally stopped a couple of blocks away leaving total havoc behind it. I don't think it, or any of the other cars ever got over five miles per hour, and a lot of the time it was traveling totally sideways. It just didn't stop until it finally ran into a pole. Our driveway is a heck of a lot steeper and longer than that hill on the news clip."

Jeff thought for a second, "I suppose we could call the Sheriff and warn..." but he stopped before finishing the sentence, realizing that the Sheriff had driven the driveway. He would probably view the call as a Southerner worrying about something he knew nothing about. Jeff grinned, "I guess we'll know a lot more about snow — mountain snow — when the winter is over. Heck, it would just be late summer, or early fall in Georgia. Probably most days are still in the nineties. Looks like fall up here is going to be different."

-------

When the computer announced the Sheriff, now driving an Explorer instead of his Crown Vic, Jeff went to the back door to meet them. Stepping out on the back, he waited just out of the rain until Tate pulled up close to the door. Jeff motioned for them to roll a window down. When the right passenger window slid down, Jeff yelled into the rain, "Drive on down to the other end where you see the door going up. Inside garage."

Tate's wife acknowledged and the window quickly closed against the now driving rain.

A few minutes later, Sheriff Tate and two women walked into the living room escorted by all five of the girls.

"My wife, Virginia," Tate said, indicating a somewhat thin blond about forty-five with shoulder-length hair, probably about five foot five. "And Virginia's sister, Elizabeth," he finished, indicating the other woman, a couple of years younger, with darker blond hair cut short, and an inch or two taller. Both had breasts that appeared slightly large for their narrow frames. Elizabeth had a noticeable limp.

After the introductions, the women went off, presumably to finish supper, while Tate joined Jeff in his favorite place by the window. The yard lights were on giving a good view of the grounds.

As Sheriff Tate sat by Jeff near the big window, Tate asked, "Is that my deputy's borrowed truck that I parked beside?"

"Yeah," Jeff grinned. "He's been here for quite a while. Diana says he and Alesha are a done deal, although he might not realize it yet."

Tate smiled. "She is a nice looking young lady. Probably a lot nicer looking than when I saw her in the hospital, even. If she's chosen Goodman, I think she's done a little better than last time," he laughed. "That turkey that she had been dating was a real piece of work."

"Yeah," Jeff agreed.

"Sometimes," Tate continued, "it totally amazes me the men that some women pick. I have many times seen very nice looking young ladies who could probably have most any man they wished, coming out of a bar with a long-haired, greasy-looking guy that they're obviously going to fuck. I don't know whether it's a fantasy that they're carrying out, or..."

" ... it's the dope the guy sells," Jeff interjected.

Tate laughed. "Yeah, there's that aspect of it, too."

Jeff pushed his recliner back a little, getting more comfortable. "I don't know what it was with Alesha, although I doubt that drugs were involved. She had already run the guy off, and she's embarrassed about having the world, so to speak, know that she had a relationship with the idiot. But she's had a hard time, apparently without family support, to make a way for herself. Apparently, she did manage to get in at least some college before the guy she was living with in Denver made her quit."

Jeff steepled his fingers as he rested his hands across his chest. "I suspect that she had given up trying to find someone decent and just picked this guy because she was horny. Now, according to Diana, Alesha thinks she's soiled goods. Not to mention almost getting Joyce killed. She has some issues to overcome, but I think that Jesse is just the ticket. The women say that she talks about him incessantly. Diana just told me that she has talked to Jesse about coming to visit Alesha very frequently. Using the excuse that Alesha needs a friend right now so that he won't feel like he's imposing by being up here so much."

Tate chuckled. "Goodman is smart enough to see what's going on, I imagine. But it looks like you and your family have taken a special interest in both of them."

"Well, Joyce is alive because of them."

" ... And Deputy Cramer has taken a special interest in your, uh, family," Tate grinned.

Jeff thought for a minute, remembering what Tate had said about Jeff's women. "She and Caitlin will be part of our family soon. Might as well be now."

"Yeah, that's about what I thought. She could do worse," the Sheriff said, grinning.

Jeff grinned back at him, "Thanks. We think she's pretty special."

The men sat in silence, watching the rain beat against the window. A couple of minutes later, Dave came in and sat with them.

"We're pretty much in the dry with the barn, Boss." (In the dry: Walls are up and the roof is on, allowing them to work inside the barn.)

"Too bad that we didn't get the papers signed on the Thompsons' property in time to redirect the creek before all this rain started."

Dave, with a little smirk on his face, looked at Jeff. "Well, now Boss, fact is that Mr. and Mrs. Thompson are nice people. They knew what you wanted to do, and when they heard the weather forecast, they came over to Carla's and suggested that we get a dozer over to their place and damn up the ditch he had cut. We got it done just before the rain started. The water is flowing through its old path now around the outside of that field, almost circling it."

Jeff chuckled. "I knew there was some reason I talked you into being my project manager."

After a grin, "But now, we've got a problem that we need to iron out between the three of us," Jeff said looking hard at both men.



-------

Chapter 82

" ... But now, we've got a problem that we need to iron out between the three of us," Jeff said looking hard at both men.

"That's sounds serious, Jeff," Dave said.

"Hell, it is. We've got a young man in there visiting with Alesha who blew his truck engine as he was coming to save Joyce. The problem is that he's too damn proud to let me buy him another truck. Heck, I would set both Jesse and Alesha up for life if I could get away with it. It's frustrating to have the money and not be able to help those two. I think we'll get away with a 'grant' for Alesha to go back to school, but what am I going to do about Goodman?"

Tate looked over at Jeff. "I've been thinking about the same thing. I have a little money in my discretionary fund at the department. I could get his motor rebuilt if I threw in a little extra."

Jeff quickly sat up in order to look more directly at the Sheriff. "What if your discretionary fund suddenly got one hell of a lot bigger?"

Tate just grinned at him.

"If I can't buy him a new truck, how about a complete rebuild of this one. Say, carry it to the dealer and tell him to make it like new."

"New, as in?" Dave said.

"New interior, repair any dents, new paint job, new sporty rims, new tires, new engine — not a rebuilt one — front end, transmission, new windshield, if its four-wheel drive, do that too, a really nice stereo system ... everything. Make it like new, literally. Oh, and an extra set of snow tires and wheels for winter."

Dave shook his head. "I know of a better outfit to do that than the dealer. Dealers usually charge a ridiculous amount of money for parts. And, granted, some of the parts will have to come from a dealer, but a lot of them won't. With a project like this, we want someone who is proud of his finished work. This guy is good. He won't stiff us with the price, and he's a true craftsman. He has a garage/body shop combination, and he restores antiques as well. Although, Goodman's pickup doesn't fall into that category, I'll bet he would still jump at the chance for a true restore to Jesse's truck. Especially if the guy realized that this is for the deputy that helped save Joyce. Heck, everyone who has turned on a radio or TV lately, knows about that."

"See why he's my project manager?" Jeff laughed.

Dave just grinned and went on. "He's not cheap, but he does what he says he will do. You should see his shops. They steam clean every vehicle before it even goes into the shop. He insists that all his people clean up their work area every day before they leave. They have, literally, a place for everything, and everything is in its place before they go home for the day. He's a stickler for perfection, and he doesn't just talk the talk, either.

And they do a thorough inspection of the work before it goes out. I've watched them do this, and they're serious about the inspections. He says that he is in business for the long haul, that satisfied customers will be the repeat customers who will keep him in business."

"Damn. Can we hire this guy?" Jeff laughed.

"No," Dave joined in with a chuckle of his own, "but I already have several like him, one of whom is a finish carpenter who needs to get back in your bedroom to put up the molding."

"As soon as we get past this thing with Joyce, we'll finish up in there. I had almost forgotten about it," Jeff answered, realizing that Dave was every bit as much of a perfectionist in his own way as the shop owner.

"You might have forgotten, but I doubt if Diana has," Dave allowed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Jeff agreed

"But how are we going to do this?" Tate asked.

Jeff grinned at the Sheriff. "Well, you will be eating supper with him in a few minutes. Afterward, you can get him aside — assuming that you can get his attention from Alesha long enough — and tell him about your discretionary account. Just don't take no for an answer. Tell him that his motor is the county's responsibility and ask for his keys, meanwhile, bullshitting him about the money. As soon as you talk him out of the keys, we'll send a wrecker and get started.

"You can tell him that you sent the truck to Denver to a friend of the family who runs a garage, and it might take a couple of weeks, but the guy does good work. We will just keep stalling him until the truck is ready."

"I'll call the shop in Denver and set it up first thing in the morning," Dave broke in.

"He's going to have a fit when he sees it, and it won't take him long to realize that you are the one who financed the restoration," Tate mused.

"Yeah, well, it will be a done deal then. He might fuss and jump up and down a little, but we'll make sure that Alesha is here and knows about it ahead of time. I doubt if he'll raise too much hell with her to calm him. We'll make sure that Alesha asks him for a ride in his new truck right off the bat. He'll be sunk by the time he gets back from the ride, if he even notices the truck while he's out," Jeff laughed. "Also, sooner or later, he'll figure out how much Joyce means to us, and maybe that will assuage his ego a little about accepting the money that went into the truck restoration."

Tate grinned at Jeff. "I think this will work. Hell, like you say, it will be a done deal by the time he finds out. He's a proud young man, somewhat of a loner from what his Lieutenant tells me. But the same Lieutenant also says that if he needs something done, he knows that Goodman will get it done right the first time. He's number one on the Sergeant's exam, too, and the slot is open. But I have plans about that. I have a commendation ceremony that's overdue for another deputy. I'm just waiting for Joyce to get back to work before we have it — particularly since she's going to be one of the ones to receive an award."

Tate glanced out the window. "Looks like the rain is slacking up a little."

Dave laughed. "Better look again, Sheriff. Looks like those drops of rain are changing shape and getting awfully white."

Tate grimaced. "I brought the four-wheel drive just in case. I guess the weather report is going to hit it for a change."

"Soup's on," Diana announced on the PA.

-------

Goodman held Turcott's chair for her to be seated. As Alesha sat, she thanked Jesse with a smile, then turned to Diana. "This is the last time I sit on my rear while everyone is preparing our meal. I'm fine now. The nausea isn't bothering me anymore, the dizziness is almost gone, and I think my hearing is going to completely come back. It's getting better all the time, and even the ringing in my ears is almost gone."

Diana grinned at her, eyes sparkling. "So, you've just told me that you still have some dizziness, some ringing in your ears, and your hearing is still giving you problems. You can come sit and talk with us while we work," she said, "but let's wait a couple of days before you get too frisky."

"That's what I've been telling her," Goodman broke in, "but she's feeling guilty for not helping."

Alesha grinned a little, "Okay. But I'm not an invalid and I want to do my part." Absently, she reached for the Sheriff's hand on one side and Jesse's on the other, then bowed her head.

Quickly catching on, Tate took Turcott's hand, then his wife's. His wife grabbed his hand and her sister's, the Matthews and Hensons completing the chain around the table. Jeff said the blessing this time.

Later, as the conversation lulled for a moment, Evie caught Tate's eye. Very seriously, she said, "Sheriff, I got a ticket the other day. Think you could take care of it for me?"

Dave frowned, hesitating, a fork of food almost to his mouth. She has been out by herself a few times lately. Strange, though, that she didn't mention a ticket. That's really odd. She's never gotten a ticket in her life. She's always fussing at me to watch how fast I'm driving. Then he saw the quiver of the side of her mouth.

"Well, I, uh..." Bracing himself, Tate continued, "I'm sorry. I hope I don't offend you, but I don't 'fix' tickets. Actually my people write very few of them. We're too busy answering calls and with us short on manpower, we don't have anyone working full-time in traffic."

"Well, it was worth a try," Evie laughed.

"Sheriff," Dave broke in, "She's messing with you. She's never gotten a ticket in her life, and if she did, I'd rag her for the next ten years, as much as she rides me about staying below the limit and coming to a complete stop at stop signs."

Tate blushed, totally amazing Evie. "All right, young lady. You got me with that one. I was sitting here wondering how I was going to say that I didn't 'fix' tickets, without making you mad at me, never even considering that you were kidding." Chuckling self-consciously, he winked at her.

"Well, it was worth a try," Evie laughed. "I might get one some day."

Tate smiled back. "I'm not wearing my uniform this evening, and I even left my off-duty gun in the SUV," he hinted.

"Do you get tired of people talking about law enforcement?" Evie asked, assuming that's what he meant.

Tate chuckled as he accepted a platter of chicken from his wife, took a chicken breast and passed the food to his left. "I guess that a lot of people are a little uncomfortable around a person in uniform wearing a gun and the gear. Even when I'm in plain clothes, they know that I'm armed. Most don't have the foggiest notion what a cop really does, so they try to make me feel like I'm part of the conversation by asking about tickets."

Tate paused to take a sip of his iced tea, then looked at the glass again. "Wow, that's good." After a moment, he continued, "We were standing around after church the other day, just talking before leaving. There was a lull in the conversation, and I guess the pastor wanted to make sure I felt included, or something. He turned to me and asked, 'So how many tickets did you write last week?'"

Tate accepted two biscuits from another platter, then passed it on before resuming. "I know the man was just being nice and trying to make me feel like part of the group, but I just couldn't help it. I looked him in the eye and tried to seem thoughtful. Finally, I said, 'I think I did write a ticket about... three years ago, but then I wound up voiding it when I found out she was the pastor's wife.'"

When the chuckles died down, Tate continued, "I never did tell him I was kidding. I can just imagine the conversation they had on the way home."

Evie grinned at him. There was a delay in conversation as everyone filled their plates, then, she said, "Joyce hasn't told us much about her job, so since we have the boss here, tell us what cops really do."

By now, the Sheriff's plate was full and the food kept coming. "Goodness, I don't have room for anything more. But it all looks good," Tate said.

"You shouldn't have gone to this much trouble," Virginia added, speaking to Diana.

Diana laughed. "Oh, if you stop by tomorrow, you'll see some of it again. But if we prepare a variety, then we can all have our favorites more often. Besides, we added little more than we usually have. Frequently we just put the food on the steam tables and let everyone serve themselves, but we decided to put things on the table tonight."

The Sheriff glanced at Evie. "About what cops really do, well, big departments like Denver probably have different percentages of certain calls. Most of ours are outside municipalities, of course. But there are several unincorporated towns that we serve, and technically we can answer calls anywhere in the county, incorporated or not. But then I suspect that we received more calls for stock on the highway than a big city would," he kidded. "Although, I heard some of the Denver police laughing about a big bull squaring off at a Crown Vic. The city has expanded until they have areas that overlap farms and ranches.

"Each shift has calls that are more indicative of that particular time of day. For instance, night shift will, of course, answer more prowler, alarm and burglary calls. Day shift will answer more report calls where the store owner comes in to work in the mornings and discovers that his business was broken into during the night. Evening shift will generally answer more fight calls, DUIs, and domestic calls. Calls for assistance from vehicle breakdowns happen almost twenty-four hours a day. Probably more during daylight hours, but late at night when businesses are closed becomes a hassle for the person involved, and for the deputy and dispatch trying to find a garage, or solve the problem in some way.

"Domestic disputes are a large percentage of both the evening and night shift's calls. They are a lose-lose for the deputy. You generally can't make people happy when you answer those. Someone goes to jail if there is any sign of violence. Usually the man. Then the wife has to get him out of jail, and there is a fine when they go to court, which adds to the family stress. And those calls are dangerous,  as Joyce can attest.

"One thing about our profession, you never know what to expect. It can go from boredom to chaos in a heartbeat."

"Amen to that," Joyce laughed, then looked astonished as she realized that she had just laughed about something that had decidedly not been funny a little while ago.

Tate noted her response and inwardly smiled, knowing that she was truly beginning to heal.

"One of our deputies answered a wreck call a couple of months ago. It was raining heavily and the caller had said that there was a car overturned in a ditch. The deputy, as luck would have it, wasn't far away. When he got there, he did, indeed, find a car upside down in a ditch — a ditch that was rapidly filling with water. The driver was unconscious, hanging by his seatbelt. The deputy couldn't get a door open due to them being jammed with the car sitting mostly on its roof. The problem was that the car was quickly becoming a death trap with the rising water pouring in.

"He broke out the driver's window and was holding the man's head out of the water so that he could breathe while at the same time the deputy was trying to get his knife off his belt and open with one hand. By the time he managed to cut the seatbelt and get the guy free and out the window, both the deputy and the driver were half drowned.

"He managed to pull the guy out of the ditch, despite the man weighing nearly three hundred pounds. Three hundred pounds of 'dead' weight should probably have been impossible for the deputy to drag out of that car and ditch by himself, but he managed somehow. After rolling him onto his side and getting the most of the water out of him, the deputy breathed for him a few times to get the guy started back breathing on his own. Of course then the inevitable happened and the deputy got decorated," he grinned, not wanting to say vomited on while everyone was eating.

"The deputy hadn't even noticed that he had two fairly severe cuts on his upper arms from the broken car window, but the drunk — as it turned out — didn't have a scratch on him, just shook up some. Boredom to chaos," Tate finished, smiling.

"So the drunk got off without going to jail because he had been unconscious?" Dave asked.

"Well, actually this time, he didn't. We got the judge to subpoena the blood test that the hospital drew as part of his treatment, then got a warrant for him. He only spent the night in the hospital for observation. But carrying him to court for DUI won't erase the scars on the deputy's arms, but the scars will get the deputy some good natured kidding from his buddies — and a commendation."

The big monitor on the other end of the kitchen above the cabinets came on showing the grounds in front of the retreat, then after a half minute, switched to a view of the back parking lot. The garage a hundred feet away was only visible occasionally through the falling snow.

SNOW DEPTH THREE INCHES. OUTSIDE TEMPERATURE EIGHTEEN DEGREES FAHRENHEIT, the computer announced.

Jeff frowned, wondering. I didn't know the computer did that,  he mused to himself.

Laura and Helen glanced at each other and grinned, but said nothing.

-------

Shortly after the meal was over, Sheriff Tate got Goodman aside. "Deputy, I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Sure Sheriff. You're not aggravated at me for hanging around Alesha are you?"

Taken somewhat aback, Tate hesitated, then laughed. "Goodness no. Besides my thinking it's a good idea, what you do during your off time is certainly none of my business. And the Matthews have made it clear that you're welcome any time. Since you saved Joyce's life, I suspect it would be hard for you to wear out your welcome here. No, what I wanted to talk to you about is something else, entirely. You blew up your pickup engine hurrying to Deputy Cramer."

When Goodman tried to say something, Tate motioned for him to wait, and continued. "I know. You've already told me that the engine was old, but my point is that the county is still responsible. You were using the vehicle to perform your duty. I'm not going to put the truck in the county shop to have it fixed, though. There would always be someone that would try to make something out of it. But I do have a discretionary fund that is just that, one that I may use at my own discretion, usually for things that just don't fall under any of the budget headings."

Tate didn't tell him how little money was actually in the fund.

"Now this place that I use is in Denver, and to be frank with you, they'll give me a better price if they work on your truck between their other, bigger jobs. So it may take several weeks, but they have always done quality work for me," Tate lied, building his story.

Goodman finally managed to get a word in. "Sheriff, I'm not comfortable with this. It's an old truck, but she's my baby, so I'm going to fix her up. She gets good gas mileage, and that little four-wheel drive gets me back and forth to work in the winter without a problem, particularly when I put a couple of sand bags in the very back of the bed..."

The argument went on between two strong-willed men, but Tate eventually walked away with the keys, and a grin on his face that Goodman didn't see.

Later, Tate and Jeff sat sipping coffee in the living room as they watched it snow. "Deputy Cramer's attorney came by to see me this afternoon and brought her statement. Looks like you went for the big guns with Patton."

Jeff was unsure how to respond, so he just remained silent.

The Sheriff took a sip of coffee, a twinkle in his eye as he turned to Jeff. "I got on the phone and managed to talk to the DA before he went home for the day. I told him that we were having the interview with Deputy Cramer at ten tomorrow morning here at your home. I had my secretary fax him Cramer's statement just as I called. I pointed out to him that the deputy had been shot and was recovering. If he wanted a representative from his office at the interview, then the person should be here tomorrow.

"I lied and told him her physician had agreed to allow one short interview, and that we were going to abide by the doctor's orders. I gave him your address and sent a rough sketch map. Fuck the son-of-a-bitch. He's just about got me pissed."

"So you've heard something else?" Jeff asked.

Tate sighed. "Yeah, but I'm not at liberty to talk about it. I know that sounds really shitty right now, but I'm sorry, that's the way it is. All I can say is that there are some things going on that you don't know about, and dammit, I can't tell you about them."

After a moment of quiet, the Sheriff continued, "I'm glad you got Patton for Deputy Cramer. He may wind up totally unnecessary if I get my way, but then I'm fooling with politicians, and I might very well not get my way. This whole thing is a shitty deal for a very brave young lady who almost gave her life to protect Ms. Turcott, but it's just the way it is right now," Tate sighed.

"Patton told me that he was going to wait until the last minute before walking into the meeting, for whatever good that will do. He also said that if the assistant DA becomes too aggressive, that he is going to have Cramer revert to her statement and refuse to answer. Basically, he was asking if I would go along with the rendering of her statement as fulfilling her obligation to my department. I told him that the statement was a complete account of the situation as far as I was concerned, with the exception of a couple of minor questions that the investigators need to ask her. There wouldn't even be an interview at this time if it wasn't for the DA's office, for Sheriff Alexander has already told me that all his people needed was Cramer's statement. But if I cancel the interview without the DA getting his two bits in, he's going to cry 'cover-up.' So I don't have a choice."

Tate leaned back and thought for a moment. "I'll talk to Deputy Cramer before the interview. As long as she answers the investigator's questions, and like I said, there are only a couple, I'll be satisfied. Hell, I already am, but I have to go through the motions. I was there, remember? I watched her bleed. But the public will think us cops are covering something up if we don't investigate this as if the deputy did something wrong. Damn, sometimes I hate this job," he finished, staring out the window.

-------

Deputy Goodman sat on the couch in Alesha Turcott's suite while she went to the bathroom. The difference in Alesha's hearing had been astonishing. Her eyes were a sparkling brown tonight, not the dull brown they had been when her hearing was so messed up and she had the vertigo. Although she had been a little unsteady on her feet as she stood, it had only been the one time earlier tonight. Jesse was far from being stupid, and although he had worked his ass off in college, he had gotten his BS in three years instead of four. He knew that her recovery had been remarkable.

Again, the scene unfolded in his mind with Joyce lying in an ever-widening pool of blood. Tearing his mind away from the memory of her hat sitting, its brim soaking in her blood and his desperate attempts to stop the bleeding, he remembered their earlier conversation and decision to visit the Matthews to thank them for the vests. His hand shook as he reached for his soft drink on the coffee table in front of the couch. If Mr. Matthews, Jeff, as I've been told over and over, hadn't bought those vests, Joyce would be dead now. Her funeral would probably have been today.

He sipped his drink, his grip unconsciously tightening on the bottle. Cramer was so beautiful that he could never seem to get his tongue untangled from his eye teeth around her, yet he had never asked her for a date. Now that would have been a true disaster he mused. Joyce, wo ... would you li ... like a hamburger? he chided himself, almost laughing aloud. Hell, if I'm on a call with her, I never think about stammering, but if I address her one on one, she totally overwhelms me.

What the crap is wrong with me? Alesha is pretty as she can be, not to say anything about being sooo sexy. And I can talk to her. Heck, I can't seem to shut up around her. We talked yesterday when I had to about yell for her to understand me, then today we both talked our heads off, although she does seem to be holding back some, but I don't know what about. She's told me about the guy she lived with in Denver, and about going to college. The turd that she dated that tried to kill her, but somehow, she treats me like she isn't good enough for me.

I've had my share of girlfriends. I surely haven't been a Casanova, but there have been a few girls that would sleep with me. I work out, run a little. My body is in decent shape and I'm not ugly. But Cramer just screws up my tongue. Somehow going to bed with her, though, just isn't the top of my list like the other guys at work. Somebody is always making some lewd comment about her. "Man, I'd love a piece of that," or "I bet that bitch could suck a golf ball through a garden hose." But I can talk to Alesha, and she is sexy as heck. Somehow, Joyce is a friend, period.

I think Alesha is gun shy right now, after her last two boyfriends. I think she likes me okay as a friend, but when I tried to kiss her, she turned her head. She keeps talking about finding another job, but even with the almost-miracle with her hearing coming back, she's not ready to go back to work, yet. She wants to go get her last check from the car lot, but if the guy is as much of an asshole as she says he is, I'm afraid for her to go back there. If I go with her, he's bound to complain on me, probably saying that I intimidated him into paying her more than she was due.

Miracles. Joyce came back from almost being dead — came back in hours. I saw the blood running out of Alesha's ear. Now she's hearing better and better out of it all the time. I didn't think a busted eardrum came back on its own. I thought it had to be put back together by a surgeon, and even then the person's hearing would never be the same. Two miracles from the two people involved that night.

And Mr. Matthews, Jeff, knew something was wrong with Joyce when he called me that night. He's dodged the question both times when I tried to ask him about that. They say a short prayer of thanks when they eat. Alesha says they do it for every meal, but they don't seem overly religious, heck, Jeff will say hell, damn, shit and most of the other curse words you hear, but ... I haven't heard him use God's name in vain, as they say. But Jeff got in to see Joyce at the hospital and shortly the doctors were running around telling everybody how Joyce was suddenly recovering. I wonder... 

Alesha plopped down on the couch beside Jesse. "You were so far away that you didn't even hear me when I called your name. Why so deep in thought?"

Goodman tried to refocus. "Oh, I get that way sometimes. Just going over all the things that have been happening lately. Don't mind me, Pretty Lady. Oh, and I've been thinking. Tomorrow morning, why don't you call what's his name at the car lot and ask him to mail your check here? You don't need a confrontation with another idiot while you're still not a hundred percent. If I go with you, I know that I'll get complained on even if all I do is just stand there.

"If nothing else, maybe we can get Jeff to have one of his attorneys call the guy about your check. Are you sure your boss has fired you? Surely he won't give you any problems about your last paycheck."

Alesha sighed, absently taking Jesse's hand. "I'm sure. He's never fired anyone that he didn't give them hell about their last check. He tries to cheat everyone he can. I'll be lucky to get anything, and my rent was due Saturday. I've only been late a couple of times, but my landlord isn't very forgiving. He charges me a late fee for every day I'm overdue."

"Alesha, I can loan you the money for your rent. You can pay me back when you get another job."

"No," Alesha said more sharply than she meant. "I need a job. Heck, I need two jobs. Did you get to ask around any for me?"

"Yeah. Fraser Valley has an opening for a desk clerk, but the manager was off somewhere. He's supposed to be back in the morning. I left word with the assistant manager that I had a good person for the job and that I would be back to see him tomorrow. I'm passing acquaintances, if that's a term," Jesse laughed, "with the manager. I stopped to help him when he had a flat. I think he'll at least interview you if I ask him. But beyond that, I don't know."

"Oh, Jesse, thank you. Thank you," Alesha said, hugging him before she thought.

As she pulled self-consciously back, Jesse noticed and said, "I can't blame you for being afraid of men now."

"Afraid of men? I, uh ... I'm not afraid of men, least of all you. It's just that ... well. I mean, I've told you about my boyfriends, I guess you could call them. I don't know why you even bother to come around me."

"What are you talking about, Alesha?" Jessie said, sitting up straight and turning to her, reaching for her hand again. "Why wouldn't I come around you? You're beautiful, and you're a super person, too. Look what you did to help me with Joyce. I would have let her bleed to death without you. And you were sick. You said that the vertigo was so bad that you threw up in the ambulance and several times after you got to the hospital. You must have felt terrible while you were trying to kneel there and help Joyce. I know that you almost passed out at least once. And you didn't say a thing. Few people, women or men, would have been able to do what you did. Why on earth would you ever consider that I wouldn't want to be around you?"

Astonishing him, Alesha, the woman that had held up through helping Joyce, even with blood all over her hands, arms and clothes, slumped back against the back of the couch and began to silently cry.

"You don't know everything," she gasped out between sobs. "I'm a whore," she got out before the sobs consumed her voice.



-------

Chapter 83


LATE MONDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 23

Just before Sheriff Tate, his wife and sister left, Jeff plowed out the driveway. Reaching the county road, he realized that there was at least six inches of the wet snow on it as well. Might as well go on down the mountain a way while the snow is still easy to plow,  he thought, turning left and starting down.

When he got to the Sperman's driveway, the county road had already been plowed out as well as their driveway. He turned around in their drive, making sure that he didn't leave a hump of snow across it from the plow.

He saw the front porch light turn on and off, and he beeped his horn as he started back toward the retreat. At the base of his driveway, he turned around so that he could back up the drive. That spot of ice put my heart in my throat as I came down, even with the load on the truck. I'll spread another layer of salt on it as I backed across.

As he backed onto the strip of ice, in much better shape now with the salt and sand on it, he put another layer down for his tires to grip. Going back over it, he didn't slip this time as he retraced his route to the bottom of the drive, turned around and went back up. This time, he had no problem, but he knew there would be a new coating of ice soon, particularly as hard as it was snowing and as much mist that the splashing waterfall was causing.

When he walked back into the living room, the Sheriff said, "I didn't realize where you had gone. I want to go with you the next time. We watched you back up the drive so you could put the salt down before your wheels hit the ice. We were beginning to wonder if you were going to get past that patch of ice. And by the way, I like your security system. Watching your truck on that slope was entertaining."

Jeff wasn't sure whether the Sheriff was pulling his leg a little or not.

Dave spoke up before Jeff had time to answer. "What's causing the ice, Boss? I keep a constant watch on the ditches and drains. They're all open."

"Ah, I think it's mostly a fluke. All that tremendously hard rain started a waterfall coming down the side of the cliff just above that section of the drive. So much water tumbling over the rocks is causing a spray that the wind blows over the road. Most of the water is going into the ditch, then crossing under the road just like it is supposed to. But that spray is freezing as fast as it hits the road. What's going to be truly interesting is the freezing of that waterfall if it gets cold enough. I guess it's a tossup as to whether the source of the water slows soon enough or not."

"Well, now that it's snowing, there isn't that deluge of rain that was feeding the waterfall before, so maybe it will quit before we have a giant icicle hanging over the road," Dave said, laughing.

Tate stood. "Since our host has been so gracious to clear the road for us, we had better go before the snow covers it up again."

After the goodbyes, everyone watched Sheriff Tate's Explorer make its way down the drive without incident.

A few minutes later, Dave, Evie and Linda left. The Matthews, Joyce and Caitlin sat watching the snow coming down, and chatting.

Jesse Goodman walked into the living room, then just stood looking lost. "What's wrong, Jesse?" Helen said, taking one look at his face and standing to go to him.

"I ... I need to talk to Mrs ... uh, Diana alone," he quietly said.

Caitlin grabbed Joyce's hand. "We need to get some sleep. Joyce has a big day tomorrow." Unashamedly kissing Jeff in front of Jesse, they left holding hands, though Goodman hardly reacted to them, his mind obviously elsewhere.

The others, including Jeff, filed out of the living room, although Jeff did stop to quickly hug Diana before hurrying to catch up with the others.

Diana poured a cup of black coffee from the big thermos on the serving cart, "Sit," she simply said, pointing to a nearby couch.

Jesse sat without a word. When Diana handed him the cup and sat beside him, he absently took a sip, then just stared at the cup when he returned his hand to his lap.

When he almost spilled the coffee, Diana gently took the cup from his hand and set it on a nearby coffee table.

"What on earth has upset you? Did you and Alesha have a fight or something? Remember, she's had a terribly upsetting experience..."

"We didn't have a fight," the young deputy broke in. "She's upset. Hell, that isn't even close. I don't know what to do. She won't listen to me. I've never seen a woman cry like that. She won't listen to me," he repeated.

"Okay," Diana said grabbing his hand. "Snap out of it. Look at me."

When he turned his face to her, she continued, "I assume you came to me for help. I can't help until you tell me what's going on..."

"She told me she was a whore," Jesse broke in.

"She what?" Diana interjected. "We both know that's bullshit. Now talk to me."

After a moment, Jesse quietly started, "We went through that night together. I don't know whether I could have kept Joyce from bleeding to death without Alesha, and I only vaguely realized at the time that there was something wrong with her. I just kept praying that she wouldn't pass out on me while she was holding pressure. She later told me that the reason she had been kneeling on the porch when I got there was because she had just gotten through vomiting. Yet, she never complained. She just did what I told her to do. Constantly putting pressure on Joyce's injury at the angle Alesha was forced to must have been extremely tiring for her."

"And..." Diana prompted when it seemed like he wasn't going on.

"When I visited Alesha in the hospital, we just seemed to ... click, I guess. I've heard that before, and never did realize what people really meant. But even with her hearing problem, we seemed to get along well with each other. I didn't want to leave the hospital.

"Then last night, it was the same. I couldn't seem to shut my mouth, and she was the same way. We sat on the couch and held hands like two kids. That's all we did. I never even tried to kiss her until tonight. But when I did, she just moved her head aside and it changed into a hug. Heck, I even enjoyed that out of all proportion to what we actually did."

Noticing that Jesse wasn't shaking any longer, Diana handed his coffee back to him for another sip. To be safe, she put the cup back on the table afterward. Sitting beside him, turned to face him, she put her hand on his shoulder. "Keep going."

"Tonight, after we got back to her suite, she seemed ... depressed, maybe apprehensive, I guess. Anyway, she told me about her boyfriends — she told me that I could tell you — and..."

Diana took his hand. "Just start at the beginning. We have all night."

Jesse sighed. "Okay, good point. I'm acting like an upset civilian. I know how to relate things. It's a big part of my job, for crying out loud, and here I am acting like an idiot." Taking a breath, he began.

"Alesha said that her mother was a drunk, and her stepfather was little better. High school was hell on her. She wore Goodwill clothes and of course because of it was definitely not part of the 'in crowd.' She dated a few times, then went out with this guy four or five times over a couple of weeks. They ... went parking near the end of their last date, and well ... he took her virginity. By the next afternoon, practically everybody in her class was aware of it, and a bunch of guys asked her for a date, some a whole lot less than politely.

"It really messed with her head. He had told her he loved her, and I guess from the gist of the conversation, she was a little desperate to believe that someone cared for her. She didn't date any more after that, and spent the rest of the month scared to death that she was pregnant, since the asshole didn't use a condom.

"But the real goody happened on graduation night. Her mother was supposed to come to the school later, since Alesha had to be there thirty minutes early so everyone could get their gowns on and get ready. She didn't see her mother in the audience. When she walked into the house after the graduation ceremony, boiling mad because her mother hadn't even shown enough interest to come to her only daughter's graduation, the house was empty.

"Not only was her mother not there, she had packed her things and left. Alesha hadn't seen her stepfather in over a month, and her mother wouldn't talk to her about him. A few days later, she opened an official-looking letter addressed to her mother. In short, their rent was three months past due and there would be a set-out crew there in two weeks to clean the house out.

"Things rocked on for a few months. She had received a small grant that covered her tuition to a local college, but it didn't cover anything else. She had planned to live at home, work a part-time job and go to school. So, now she was in college okay, but had been forced to move what little she had into an apartment that was little more than a dump. She did everything she could to save what little money she was making at the college bookstore, but it just wasn't enough.

"She had used what she had saved from part-time jobs during her last year in high school to have power and water turned on in her tiny apartment. But with the little she was making now, she had practically nothing left after paying her rent. Eventually, the utilities were turned off, but she had her first year in at school."

Turning to stare at Diana for a moment, he continued, "Things got worse. Since the apartment was all electric, she had no way to cook with the power off. She solved that when she found a bunch of rejected candles in a corner at the Goodwill. They took pity on her and sold her the lot for a dollar. With a tiny aluminum boiler, she could cook rice with the pan suspended over the flame of a couple candles. When she managed to have any money left, she would buy several cans of the cheapest canned beans she could find. They, of course, only had to be warmed up, and the rice would cook in thirty minutes or so. It took too many candles to try to cook dried beans.

"Although she thought her neighbors would probably give her a couple of buckets of water a day, she was ashamed to ask, so late at night, she stole the water from their outside hydrant. She could flush her commode by pouring the water in from the bucket, and the other bucket she used for cooking and drinking water.

"Then came really cold weather. She had been careful to put the insulation back just as she found it on her neighbor's hydrant, but they apparently turned it off in their basement, for there was no more water. She talked to the clerk two blocks away at the twenty-four-hour convenience store and was given permission to get water there. Late at night, she trudged the two blocks with two full buckets of water. She was ashamed to do it in the daytime.

"There was snow and patches of ice one night and she fell, spilling most of her water. When she got back up, her right shoe full of water and her pants leg soaked, she just stood there for a moment, shivering. Her light coat did practically nothing to stop the icy wind.

"A guy stopped his car and walked over to her. Shortly, she found herself in his apartment, not far from hers, being groped by someone she didn't even know. But she was warm. She insisted that he use a rubber, and told him flat out that she would not give him oral sex. She now had food and a warm place to stay. She gave him all the sex he wanted, although he usually had to use lubricant because she remained dry. She said that she usually went over her classwork in her mind while he took her."

Goodman sighed, then continued, "Alesha said she became a whore for a little food and a warm place to stay. After a while, he became abusive, eventually demanding that she quit school. Depressed, she did just that at the end of the next quarter.

"Although her grades during her last year of high school weren't that good, basically because she was working so many hours at her job, she maintained a four point oh with her college classes. A few months after she quit school and lost her grant, his abuse escalated. One day, she heard Lennie talking to the owner of a nearby car lot. He needed a bookkeeper for his lot in Winter Park. She talked her way into the job.

"He was nice to her; told her he could get her into a small house that a buddy of his owned. With her few things in his SUV, she was on her way to the house where, eventually, her next boyfriend would try to kill her. Anyway, she had been getting by on her new, halfway decent salary. Crawford kept coming around to see her, and she eventually went out with him. After a while, she went to bed with him, but quickly found out that the only one he was interested in pleasing was himself. After a while, she broke it off with him, or tried. He had other ideas. When she continued to rebuke him, he became enraged.

"The rest of the story, you know, and obviously I've condensed her story immensely. But she insists she's a whore. A whore of the cheapest kind. She even considers screwing Crawford as being a whore, because she was doing it just to have someone in her life. Just for companionship. She was so lonely and depressed that she decided to screw him just to keep him around.

"Now, she's lost the job at the car lot. She's become so depressed that even asking me to help her find a job has made her feel useless because she thinks she couldn't find one on her own. She doesn't have much in the way of clothing, and is afraid that the car lot owner will try to come get her car back now that he's fired her.

"She's a mess and the more I say, the more she seems to cry. I tried to loan her the money to pay her rent, but she wouldn't even talk to me about it. She's also afraid that if I do get her the desk job at the hotel, that her clothes won't pass muster there. I told her that I would be glad to buy her enough clothes to last for a while, but that set her off again. I'm lost in this. I finally got her to bed, and she fell asleep almost instantly. She's making this little snuffling sound. I swear that she's crying in her sleep. What can I do?" he finished, desperately.

Diana turned to pick up the phone. She dialed, then spoke to her husband. "Baby, Alesha has told Jesse about her life, and from what he's told me, ours was a fairytale in comparison. You guys go on to bed. I'm going to spend a while with Alesha, maybe even spend the night. She doesn't need to be alone right now, and she won't let Jesse stay with her ... Okay ... I love you, too."

Hanging up, she turned to the deputy. "Go ahead and take off. I'll watch you down the driveway on the security system to make sure you make it okay, then I'll go and be with Alesha. I'll take care of this."

"I hate to leave," Jesse said standing. "I feel like my presence is what brought all this on..."

Diana interrupted him. "What brought 'all this on' was that asshole who tried to kill her. She's had one hell of a life, and trust me," Diana vehemently said, "Her life is going to get better. We've pussyfooted around with this long enough. She and I are going to have a talk — woman to woman. You're the best thing that's happened to her, probably ever. And you, young man, had better make damn sure of your intentions toward her. If she's becoming special to you, then I'm all for it. But if you hurt her, then you're going to answer to me, and you have no f ... uh, idea," she finished, aborting her anger when she saw the look on his face.

"I'll never intentionally hurt her, Diana. I've never felt this way about anyone, even in the short period of time we've known each other. I think of her every waking minute. Please believe that."

"Okay," Diana said, quickly hugging him. "Now get your butt out of here so I can make sure you get past that ice. I'll take care of Alesha. Go get some sleep, you have to be at work early in the morning."

Startling Diana, Jesse grabbed her and hugged her hard, kissed her on the forehead and was gone.

-------

Daylight seeped tentatively onto Matthew's Mountain (as the girls called it) Tuesday morning. A blustery wind made the fifteen-degree day seem far colder. The snow had quit around midnight, leaving ten inches or so of beautiful white to grace the retreat, the surrounding grounds and woods. Some of the parking lot had little snow due to the scouring of the wind, but the side of the garage had several feet drifted against it.

The waterfall caused by the torrent of rain had thankfully been reduced to a trickle, but the sides of the fall were now frozen. The company that Jeff had hired (actually continued from Wainwright's contract with them) had been there at dawn to plow the driveway. The truck wouldn't negotiate the sheet of ice caused by the blowing spray from the waterfall. The driver had to back to the county road, turn around, then back up the driveway to the steep part with the ice. He then was able to use the spreader on the back of the truck to lay down salt and sand to give him traction as he continued to back up the slope, just as Jeff had done the night before. A liberal coating of material later, he managed to turn around again and make it to the retreat.

As the driver turned around in the parking lot to start back down, he tooted his horn and waved to Melissa who was standing in the back door waving to him. When she held up an insulated cup of coffee and motioned for him to come there, he hesitated for a moment, then jumped out of the truck. When he trudged to the door, she handed him the cup accompanied by a small sack with cream and sugar inside.

"That's all right Ma'am," he said, handing the sack back. "I drink it black."

"We saw you on the security system and thought you might like something to warm you up."

"Ma'am, you didn't have to do that," he said, removing the top and taking a sip.

"We always have coffee, and hot chocolate only takes a moment to fix. When you get to the back, just ring the bell if we don't notice you. Mr. Matthews said to tell you that we appreciate your good work and that you're always welcome to warm up and get something to drink."

"Well, the truck's warm, Ma'am. But I'll admit that the coffee hits the spot." Pointing to the drive, he continued, "You people need to be extra careful. There's a sheet of black ice about forty feet long halfway down. I put a lot of sand and salt on it and it should be okay, though. When you need me, just call. Sometimes I might not realize that it's snowing up here."

"Okay, we'll do that, and remember about the coffee."

Back in his truck, the driver waved to her as he started down the driveway.

Inside, Melissa rejoined everyone at the breakfast table. "It's cold out there," she said sitting back in her seat. "Now I know why those parkas are hanging in the mud room."

Dave and Evie glanced at each other, a slight smirk on their faces. "This is a balmy day compared to what it's going to be from time to time on this mountain. It isn't quite October, yet. Wait until December and January. There will be days that you won't be able to walk outside with any exposed skin. Just throwing that big coat on won't do it."

"I'm going to be spending a lot of time inside," Melissa said. "I know we're from the South, but that wind is cold."

Evie grinned at her. "Wait until you get on one of those snowmobiles that are parked in the garage. As much as you guys love the ATVs, you're going to really love the snowmobiles. You might just change your mind about staying inside. Besides, once you have on the right gear, and you're having fun, you will forget about the cold. Dave and I will teach you about the cold weather. We both love to snowmobile."

"Is there enough snow to do it today?" Arlene enthusiastically asked.

"Yeah," Dave said. "With all the wind last night, some of the ground isn't covered very deep, though."

"Not today," Jeff interrupted. "We've got lawyers coming up, the assistant DA, the investigators, Sheriff Tate ... I don't want something going on that might interfere or distract. I don't want to chance someone having an accident, or something, while this other is going on. Besides, the less this DA knows about us, the better."

Looking about him, Jeff continued. "I want him brought in the front door and escorted immediately to the conference room we're going to use. I want everyone not directly involved to be out of his sight. Sheriff Tate said he would be here early with his investigator and the one from the other Sheriff's Department.

"We will provide minimum amenities to these people. Coffee, soft drinks, until the assistant DA has left. Being overly nice to someone like him, if Tate's description is correct, could very well be a mistake. Tate thinks he's on a mission. Anything he hears or sees could be damaging to Joyce, or later, even to us."

Jennie sat up straighter in her seat. "But Jeff, that's what I don't understand. And you just said something that went along with my thinking. Anything Joyce or any of us say, might be something that this DA can use against Joyce. We all know what the Fifth Amendment is. Why does Joyce have to answer any questions? An attorney always tells his clients to never say anything to the police, whether the clients are innocent or guilty makes no difference."

"It's not that simple, Baby, at least not in Joyce's case."

"Let me answer that, please, Jeff," Joyce broke in. When Jeff acknowledged, Joyce turned toward Jennie. "What you said is absolutely right — for a civilian, but in most cases, not for law enforcement personnel. Now, if I had done something wrong and my only concern was to keep from being prosecuted or going to jail even, then I would refuse to answer any questions. I wouldn't say a thing unless my attorney told me to. Even then, he might tell me I could deny the charges, or then he might deny them speaking for me. I don't know. Depends on the circumstances.

"I remember reading of an incident where an attorney was accused of some minor assault on a woman. When the police interviewed him, the attorney who I suspect thought that he was far more educated than the cop and therefore smarter, ignored what he would have told any client. That is to refuse to say anything. But instead, he answered the cop's questions as the cop filled out the report. Later this went to court. The attorney, if I remember correctly, testified that he had not touched the woman. After all, it was just his word against hers. There were no witnesses, but ... the officer was called to the stand, and he, from his report, testified that the attorney had told him during the interview that he (the attorney) had touched the woman on the throat, but only as a joke.

"So now, there was the woman who said the attorney choked her, and the officer who said that the attorney told him that he touched the woman's throat as a joke, but now the attorney was saying that he hadn't touched the woman at all. Who knows who lied? But he was convicted because it appeared that he had lied, due to the officer's testimony. If he had refused to say anything to the officer before trial, then there would only have been the attorney's word against the woman's at the trial."

"But that's exactly what I'm saying. We've studied this in school. The Fifth Amendment is for everyone, not just some crook taking the Fifth so that he doesn't incriminate himself," Jessie said, becoming more confused.

Joyce smiled at her. "But let's back up to what I said before. I'm law enforcement. Oh, sure, I could walk into that hearing and refuse to say a thing. As a matter of fact, I didn't have to write my statement to the Sheriff about what happened. I would certainly stand a better chance of coming out of this unscathed if it goes to court, but there is one little thing that you're forgetting."

"Your job," Arlene offered.

"Exactly," Joyce responded. "Any law enforcement agency that I've ever heard of has a policy on the use of force. The bottom line is that you cooperate with the departmental investigation or you're terminated then. Right then. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Then! And if the department even has an appeal procedure for this, the hearing wouldn't last five minutes. You ignored a major departmental order. Sheriff Tate has told me that my statement accompanied with my answering the investigator's questions will relieve me of my responsibility along those lines. How far he is going to allow the assistant DA to go is something I don't know."

Joyce looked down at her plate for a moment, everyone quiet. "I was extremely naive about this to start with. This is my first time to be involved in something that could get me fired or even put me in jail. But I did take someone's life..."

"He almost killed you..." Jeff interrupted.

Joyce smiled at him, but continued, "This is typical of what happens after a shootout involving law enforcement. We're more or less guilty until proven innocent. We have the public trust and are entrusted with the power to enforce the law and that trust. It's only fair to challenge that power, lest it be overused."

"'Overused.' Exactly what several DAs have done, and ... what it appears this guy is doing."

"So it winds up costing you many thousands of dollars. None of which you will get back, probably. I can't sue the guy — well at least under most circumstances, he's immune from lawsuit. But if this had happened without you to fall back on to provide a good attorney, my life would be made miserable for a while — at best."

Diana reached over and took her hand. "But we are here. And this is going to come out just fine."

"Maybe so," Joyce said, pushing the food around on her plate, still looking down, "But I'm going to need some ulcer medicine before this is over," she quietly said.

Jeff accepted the plate of biscuits, took two, then passed the platter on. "And how are you Ms. Alesha?" he asked, purposely making his voice as upbeat as he could.

Alesha, having just taken a bite of scrambled eggs, waited a moment until she could swallow. She looked at Jeff, then blushed. "I guess everyone knows that I had a little come-apart last night, as my granny used to call things like that." Grinning, she continued, "Well, maybe a big come-apart. But your wonderful wife came in and set me straight."

"Which one?" Jeff asked, sotto voice.

Alesha blushed again, this time far deeper. "Uh, Diana," she said, stifling a giggle.

"Oh, that one. Yeah, she's a pretty good wife."

Everyone chuckled a little over the lame joke.

"She talked to me about keeping quiet about your lifestyle. You won't have any problem with me."

"I never thought we would, or I wouldn't have made my little joke," Jeff said, looking hard at the plate of bacon that was a little out of his reach. His demeanor and blasé voice sent a message of no concern as well, as he tried another tactic to assure Joyce.

Laura grinned at him and passed the bacon for a second helping. Or was it his third?"

"Anyway," Alesha picked up again, "she and I had a long talk. I feel much better about myself and about my future..." she stumbled to a stop as Helen refreshed Jeff's coffee, then soul-kissed him for a good thirty seconds.

"Uh..." Alesha started, having completely forgotten what she was about to say.

"Don't pay them any attention," Diana laughed. "They're just messing with you. If we didn't like and trust you, you would never have seen that."

"I know," Alesha quietly said. "It's just that everyone here seems so much in love. You're all so nice to each other. I'm just not used to that. I grew up with my mom and step-dad screaming at each other all the time. There were empty beer cans everywhere. It seemed like I was the only one who ever picked them up and put them in the trash."

Diana chuckled a little. "Around here, you're going to have to get used to the teasing and not take too many things seriously. Our man over there, unless there is something serious going on, if his mouth is open, he's teasing someone ... well unless there's a titty in it," she finished, shocking Alesha, who looked flustered for a moment, then broke out laughing.

"I guess I walked into that one. Jeff isn't the only one teasing around here."

Helen, her eyes sparkling, looked toward Alesha. "That statement about Jeff may not be as far off base as you suspect."

"Now wait a minute," Jeff said, trying to look like he was pouting. "I don't tease that much." He didn't say anything about the titty comment being off, though.

"And the other part?" Dave laughed.

"Every chance I get," Jeff said. "Every chance I get."



-------

Chapter 84

TUESDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 24

Breakfast was nearly over. Jeff looked over at Dave. "What's on the agenda for today, you two?"

Dave glanced at Evie. "We're going to check on the barn first thing, then I want to look at the new dam on the Thompsons' place to make sure all that fresh dirt survived the rain. We need to check with Korey about some of the jobs in Denver that are coming to a close. After that, if there's time, we need to check on how the real estate broker is coming along with the property around Jeb and Annie's house..."

"Sounds good," Jeff said. "I talked with the Thompsons and Fontaine. We're going to hold off on the closing on the farm until tomorrow, because of Joyce's interview. I want both of the attorneys focused — well all of us who are involved, focused — until we're on firmer ground. I thought about having the closing early this morning up here, instead of in Denver, but decided that it would be too rushed. I think it would be better on the Thompsons if we had it here, anyway. They certainly won't have as far to drive."

"What time, Boss? I'll talk to the Thompsons while I'm down there this morning."

"Let's make it tentatively for ten tomorrow morning. I'm pretty sure that Fontaine will be here this morning with Patton, so when the interview is over, I'll check if he's free for tomorrow."

Evie began helping with the cleanup, but Diana grabbed her arm. Pushing the little blond toward her husband, Diana said, "We'll do this. There are plenty of us to take care of it. You're a working woman. Now get out of here with that hunk of a husband of yours."

Laughing, Evie turned to Dave only to find Linda giving him a thorough kiss. Evie grabbed his arm. "Cut it out you two. We'll never get him out of here if you keep that up much longer."

Linda rolled her lip out pretending to pout, but giggled as Evie tickled her when she passed. Turning around, Evie went over to Joyce. Pulling the deputy to her feet, she hugged her. "Chin up. Kick their ass," she said.

Dave hugged her as well. "Good luck. Everybody is on your side except this asshole DA. Jeff will take care of him. We'll see you later today."

"Thanks you two. I appreciate it," Joyce replied hugging them back.

As soon as Dave and Evie had gone, Jeff poured himself another cup of coffee. Helen, Laura and Diana slid their cups over as well. When Jeff returned the pot and sat down, "Now for our council of war. Here are my thoughts..."

-------

Helen, assisted by Laura, carefully applied Diana's makeup. The dark lipstick didn't become her, and the makeup ... wrong for her coloring, appeared inexpertly done. Her luscious hair was pinned up until it barely touched her shoulders.

"This isn't going to be comfortable," Helen said holding up a long, eight-inch-wide elastic bandage designed for a leg injury.

"Yeah, I know. But I can put up with it for a while," Diana said, turning her back to her sister-wife. Helen reached under Diana's outstretched arms to carefully place the elastic across her breasts, then wrapped the elastic bandage twice around Diana before attaching the bandage to itself to keep it in place.

"Can you breathe?" Helen said, checking out her work on the now much less voluptuous appearing Diana.

"Yeah," Diana said, "but just barely. Alright. Let's get the tee-shirt on, then the shirt. I want to make sure that the elastic doesn't show."

"But I still don't understand why," Jennie said. "Oh, I know that our husband wants it that way. I just don't understand why."

"I don't want to give this asshole anything," Jeff said walking in. "Not even a hard on. And if this doesn't pan out the way we hope, I don't want him to be able to recognize Diana later on. I can't explain it ... I just want it this way," he finished.

"Well, she surely doesn't look like Mom," Arlene said as she watched her mother put the tee-shirt on, then handed her the uniform shirt.

When Diana buttoned the shirt and tucked it into her pants, she turned around for them. "Well, how do I look?"

Ann hesitated, then, "You look forty. My gosh, Helen. How did you learn to do that?"

"I used to help the Theater class at school out a little with their wardrobe and makeup. It doesn't look very realistic if the 'father and mother' in the cast do not look older than their 'kids.' It's simple, really, once you learn the techniques."

"Well, it sure works," Ann laughed.

"You did great, Helen," Jeff said, smiling at her.

"Well, it wasn't all me, Laura did her hair and picked the uniform."

Jeff checked out the maroon uniform with the Wainwright name and logo high on the left breast, with "Doris" in gold letters beneath the logo. The blouse was a little large as were the pants in the seat.

"There's a whole big closet full of uniforms in the basement. It wasn't hard to find one that almost fit," she laughed.

Diana looked at herself in the mirror. "Frank will crap on himself if he sees me in this. This uniform would look great if it fit."

"Well, we're not into making you or it look great. I want this assistant DA to think that you are just the hired help."

"Yes, Massuh," she teased.

"I'll 'Massuh, ' you across my knee when this is over."

"Promises, promises," Diana laughed. Then, as the computer chimed and turned on the monitor, "Oops. That looks like the Sheriff's car turning into the drive."

Shortly, the computer confirmed Diana's assumption.

"He said he would be here early. The two investigators are scheduled to be here thirty minutes after Tate. And that looks like the attorneys turning in behind the Sheriff."

"I'll meet them in the reception area," Joyce said starting for the door.

"No. Let me," Diana said. "I'll use them for practice. Besides, I want to see the look on the Sheriff's face when he sees me," Diana laughed. Well, tried to. She quickly found out that it was uncomfortable laughing with her breasts tied so tightly. "I want to see if he notices my breasts."

"Yeah," Ann said, giggling. "He's going to think you had on falsies, before, or something."

"Nah. Tate is sharper than that," Jeff said. "It'll take him about three seconds to figure it out. I'll bet he doesn't even blink."

A few minutes later, Tate walked into the front reception area accompanied by both attorneys and their assistants. Tate grinned when he saw Diana, winked at her and said, "Well, now. We haven't met, have we, uh ... Doris, is it?" he said reading her name tag.

Fontaine stopped and looked. "I swear that I wouldn't have recognized you if I had met you on the street, Mrs. Matthews, uh, Diana," he quickly corrected.

"Doris for today," Diana said.

"And whose idea was this?" Patton asked.

"My husband's," Diana answered. "And don't even ask me why."

"I don't blame him one bit," Patton said. "I assume that you and your husband will be the only members of your family that the DA will see today?"

"Yes," Diana said. "Just us. This way," she finished, directing them toward the elevator. "We're using a conference room on the third floor. The elevator has been programmed to not stop on the first or second floors. When the assistant DA gets back on, it will take him directly to this landing. Jeff says that the rest of this house and anyone in it are none of his business."

To prove her point, when they got on the elevator, she pressed both the other floors before pressing for the third. The elevator rose smoothly past the other floors before stopping on the third floor.

"It's two doors down on the right," Diana said, leading them into the conference room. "There is a vestibule off to the side there," she said pointing to the other end of the "L" shaped room.

"That's fine," Patton said checking the room out. "This okay with you Chuck?"

"Yes, this will be fine," Fontaine said as he walked to the other end of the room and turned right into the vestibule. "We'll be able to hear from here, but effectively be out of the way."

"And if the DA objects to their presence?" Jeff said, walking in.

"It's your home. Do you want them in that room?" Patton said, grinning.

"Absolutely," Jeff replied.

"Then if this assistant DA can't work with that, he can leave and get a subpoena for Joyce. Of course, I will then advise my client to refuse to answer anything he asks, since she will have completed her obligations to her department by then."

Pulling out a chair and sitting down, he looked at Jeff. "I assume that you want to be in the meeting?"

"The Sheriff said I could be in the room, but couldn't say anything. He said that the investigators didn't care one way or the other. They only had a couple of questions for Joyce and they would be done."

"Excellent," Patton said. "And where is Deputy Cramer?"

"She'll be along in a minute. They're finishing with her makeup."

"But I told her not to wear any..." Patton started before catching himself, remembering Diana's appearance. "Oh," he finished, grinning.

A few minutes later, Joyce walked in, definitely not her spry self. Patton's grin got bigger. Getting up, he carefully checked Joyce over. "Whoever did this is a professional," he quietly said. "If anyone asks you in front of the DA how you are feeling..."

"I'm doing okay," Joyce said. "I'm not to lie, but if he gets a wrong impression, that's his problem."

Patton grinned and sat back down. "All right. Now let's go over some things before the others get here. Remember..."

-------

Just past Martha's restaurant, the assistant DA pulled off the county road onto a small dirt road barely more than a path. A part of his mind vaguely thought that the road had probably once been a logging road. Whatever it was, it fit his needs. Stopping only after he was out of sight of the main road, he put his SUV in Park and pulled a small pouch from under the passenger side floor mat. Inside were several cheap lighters, a metal tube about three inches long, and a small plastic baggy containing several chips of rock cocaine, each about the size of a pea. The metal tube was roughly the diameter of a cigarette and had a rubber tip to keep the tube from burning his lips.

Taking out one of the rocks, he pushed it into the metal tube until it was firmly against the copper mesh pulled from a scouring pad. Satisfied that the mesh was still intact enough to keep the piece of burning cocaine from being pulled into his mouth, he selected a lighter. Holding the rubber-tipped end of the metal tube in his mouth, he held the flame against the crack cocaine and inhaled. The world around him brightened. Euphoria engulfed him as the cocaine flooded his system.

Fighting to keep from laughing, he held the fire against the rock and took another hit off the crack pipe.

Time to go kick ass, he thought as he finished the rock a few minutes later. These hicks aren't in my class. Hell, they're not even close.

Replacing the pouch under the passenger-side floor mat, he dropped the vehicle into Drive. Turning off the road, he spun the wheel, then backed up, finishing his turn. Bushes scratched the side of the vehicle with a squeaking sound. "Fuck," he snarled as he stomped down on the accelerator, throwing gravel and mud as he headed back to the pavement.

-------

Diana met the assistant DA as he came through the front door.

"Good morning, Sir. I'm to direct you to the meeting area."

"That's fine; let's get on with it then," the DA said, rudely brushing past her toward the open elevator.

Diana glared at his back. I should just let you go on by yourself. I wonder how many locked doors you would have to try before you stumbled onto the conference room? You're the absolute walking epitome of the Little Man Syndrome, shoulders thrown back, that look on your face. It's obvious that you're an arrogant little prick.

Smiling sweetly, she slouched toward him as he stood glaring at her from the elevator.

"Press one of those damned buttons. I'm a busy man. I need to get this over with."

Diana turned and pressed the button. When the elevator stopped, the assistant DA brushed past her again, then stopped.

Oh, shit. Jeff would have my ass if I had tripped this turd, but I was sooo tempted,  she thought as she calmly walked out of the elevator. "This way, Sir," she managed in a somewhat civil tone as she turned right and led the way. I swear that if he pushes past me when I open that door, I'm going to trip him.

When she opened the door and the assistant DA stumbled inside, she closed the door behind him, stifling laughter. Turning, she walked to an alcove down the hall a short distance where she had put her book and thermos of coffee. The original plan was for her to follow him on inside the conference room where she was supposed to offer everyone beverages, then leave the room.

Screw him. Let him do without,  she thought. Let Jeff deal with him, or let the arrogant little bastard starve. Sitting and picking up her book, she opened it to her place. Jeff is going to eat this guy's lunch. Grinning, she poured herself a cup of coffee, propped her feet up and began on her story where she had left off.

-------

"All right. Let's get started," the assistant DA said without offering any pleasantries, putting his recorder on the table and turning it on as Patton walked into the room. The DA, ignoring Patton as the attorney took a seat, frowned as both investigators quickly put their own recorders on the table and activated them. "Uh, I am District Attorney, Jonathan Randolph..." Still standing, he went on to give the date, the location, the purpose of the meeting and to say that also present were Ms. Joyce Cramer and Sheriff Tate. "Now I would like to start off by asking Ms. Cramer..." he started.

Just as Sheriff Tate opened his mouth, his investigator, Sergeant Griffin, spoke up. "No, Sir. First of all, we're going to correct a mistake you just made and add some things that you left out. There is no Ms. Joyce Cramer in this room. There is, however, a Deputy Joyce Cramer present, and her attorney Mr. Tyler Patton. Also present is Sergeant Hernandez, myself, Sergeant Griffin, and Mr. Jeff Matthews who has provided this meeting room for us."

Turning to the other investigator, Sergeant Griffin asked, "Do you have anything to add Sergeant Hernandez?"

"No, I'm fine," the Sergeant replied, already seeing that he was going to enjoy this.

"All right. Now that's over, I will proceed with my investigation. Deputy Cramer. The first question..."

Sergeant Griffin, getting more pissed by the moment, interrupted again. "Excuse me, Mr. Randolph, but I think we need to cover one other thing before we proceed."

Randolph spun in Griffin's direction, placing his hand on the table and leaning forward. "The first thing that we need to establish is that I'm in charge here. This is my investigation," he snarled.

"No," Sheriff Tate interjected before Sergeant Griffin could answer. "There are three separate investigations. As is our departmental policy, one of the neighboring counties is selected by rotation to conduct a separate investigation any time there is deadly force use by a member of my department. That is why Sergeant Hernandez is here. The District Attorney has exercised his right to investigate, as well. His investigation, which I presume you lead, does not preclude, nor override any other investigation into this matter.

"There are certain 'guidelines' to an investigation that have generally arisen from court rulings in the past that you, as an attorney, should certainly know about. The Sergeant's additions to your opening statement, of course, come as a result of those rulings, and from his years of experience. We wished to have only one interview with Deputy Cramer due to the physical and mental trauma to which she has been so recently subjected..."

Patton, just having sat back and watched, interposed, "In addition to the Sheriff's comments, I will further state that if it is your intention to interrogate my client aggressively, I will advise her to refrain from answering any of your questions. She has been willing to totally cooperate in this matter, and indeed, stands ready to answer any questions posed by her department, but I will not allow her to be interrogated by you or anyone else."

"I'll subpoena her and have her brought to my office..."

"And to which I'll respond by bringing her to your office, myself, and ... advising her to refrain from answering any of your questions."

Around the corner in the foyer, Fontaine whispered to the two assistants, "What the hell is the matter with this guy? No DA in his right mind talks to anyone like that during an interview."

In the pause following Patton's statement, Sergeant Griffin turned to Joyce. "Deputy Cramer, what I started to ask was the condition of your health. Do you feel physically and mentally able to participate in this interview today?"

Joyce looked at Patton, who nodded.

"Yes, I feel okay."

"In that case, Sergeant Hernandez and I have only a couple of questions..."

Randolph, who had finally sat, interrupted. "How long had you known Crawford Hill before you shot him?"

"What..." Joyce started before Patton's hand touched her arm.

A whispered conversation between Patton and Joyce later, "To the best of my recollection, I had not ever spoken with Mr. Crawford Hill prior to answering the call to Ms. Turcott's home."

"Are you certain of that?" Randolph snapped, glaring at Joyce.

Patton spoke one word in Joyce's ear.

"To the best of my recollection, I had not ever spoken with Mr. Crawford Hill prior to answering the call to Ms. Turcott's home."

Sheriff Tate spoke up, "Might I remind you, Mr. Randolph, that this is an interview, not the interrogation of a hostile witness on the stand." It wasn't a question the way Tate said it. "Deputy Cramer came very close to dying last Saturday morning. Indeed, it is a miracle that she is able to be interviewed so soon after the incident. I again caution you to tone down your questions and act in a professional manner, or I will advise my Deputy to return to her quarters."

Patton sat back, amused, his face expressionless while Tate took on the prosecutor for him, the attorney now well past willing to end the interview.

"All right," Randolph snapped. "I can see that everyone in this room is protecting this deputy. So, I'll just play the tape. The original tape I might add. I personally retrieved it from the recorder in your dispatch office, Sheriff Tate. I have had it analyzed by our expert, Doctor Reed, whom we have used in court many times, and whose testimony is impeccable. Here is the original tape, he said, pointing to a tape with the District Attorney's seal across the front of the clear plastic box. And here is a certified copy of that same tape after enhancement by our expert. The only thing that has been done to the recording is that one section has the volume increased so that we can better hear Mr. Hill just before he was killed by Deputy Cramer."

As the tape played and neared the point where the gunfire happened:

"It's time," Crawford yelled. "Time to blow this bitch to hell."

There was a two second pause, then:

"Wait!" in what sounded like Crawford's voice.

Then the sound of the 9 mm firing, followed a half second later by the roar of the .44 Magnum. Then Turcott's screaming...

There was silence for four or five seconds, then, "That is a fucking, lie," Joyce yelled starting to stand. "He didn't..."

But Patton's hand closed down on her arm.

"My client will not answer any more questions," Patton said, his voice totally even.

"I don't need her to say anything," Randolph said, a sneer in his voice. "I have witnesses who will testify that they saw Deputy Cramer sitting at a table talking with Crawford Hill in a bar a week prior to the shooting. It is obvious that Mr. Hill had changed his mind just before Deputy Cramer killed him. I'll be in touch Deputy," Randolph said, gathering his equipment and walking out.

Joyce's eyes sparkled with angry, unshed tears as she yanked her arm away from Patton who had continued his hold for almost a minute.

"This is bullshit," she hissed at him. "And you know it is, and I've never been in a bar when I wasn't on duty. If I'm called to take a report at a bar by one of the patrons, we go to my vehicle to write out the report. If the bartender wants a report for something, I stand at the bar to take the report. I had never seen either Alesha or that asshole before I answered the call at her house. Never. If he has witnesses, they are liars."

Tate stood, putting his big hand on Joyce's shoulder. Trying to look her in the eye, he quietly said, "Deputy, you don't have to convince us, but I've got to go. I have something vitally important to do."

When Joyce kept staring at Patton, Tate said, "Look at me, Deputy."

When Joyce did, he continued, "My plans have just been escalated, but now I know what's going on for certain. You are not to worry about this."

"That tape is a serious consequence," Patton interjected.

"Only thing wrong with your comment is that the FBI has the original and their experts have verified that the tape is original and true. Mr. Randolph was given the working copy of the tape from the active recorder in dispatch. The long-running original was still operating when the SAC from the Denver office, accompanied by one of his experts, took the tape out of the locked recorder themselves. That recorder is part of the recording system and is in a locked vault. The recorder itself takes two keys to open, mine and my Captain's. You have already heard the true recording — the copy I gave you. The shots were fired simultaneously, not separately. And there is no 'wait' on the real tape.

"If it goes to court, who do you suppose the jury will believe? But that's beside the point right now. I have something that I urgently have to do."

Turning back to the two Sergeants. "Sergeant Hernandez, I'm certainly not your boss, but I would ask you to keep to yourself the comments I have just made."

Hernandez nodded, "No problem, Sheriff."

Tate glanced at Sergeant Griffin.

"You know I will, Sheriff. You don't have to tell me."

"Please, both of you stay off the phone and radio. It could be vitally important. Please wait at least thirty minutes, and even an hour if you would. It could be very important to what I intend to do."

"You got it Sheriff," Hernandez answered. "Heck, I'm in no hurry at all."

Hernandez and Griffin got a fine meal and a tour of the retreat before they decided to leave nearly two hours later. The attorneys and their assistants stayed to talk with the Matthews family. Joyce remained furious for a while, walking the floor — worried.

-------

When Sheriff Tate had left the conference room, refusing questions, he waited for the elevator. When it came back, Diana was not on it.

When Tate got to the foyer, Diana was standing at the door watching the assistant DA drive away.

"What happened in there? He was almost running when he went to his car."

"I can't talk to you now Mrs. Matthews, but I'm sure your husband will fill you in. I'm sorry to be abrupt, but I'm really in a hurry."

The elevator door opened again and Jeff stepped off. "Quinton," he called out. "Wait up. I need to speak with you for a moment."

Tate turned back toward Jeff as he walked up. "I really need to go. I need to make a phone call as soon as I safely can."

"Sheriff, I've never been a real cop, but I've been a reserve for years. Whenever I was home and they needed me, I helped out. I've even helped serve narcotic search warrants. I've had a lot of training, both with law enforcement and the military. I know that you have something going down. Something with the DA, unless I miss my guess. I can help and I know how to keep my mouth shut. You can make me one of your reserves with a word. Let me help."

Tate hesitated for a moment, somehow wanting Jeff by his side, reading Jeff's sincerity. Frowning, he looked Jeff in the eye. "I would like that very much. But I'm a player in this, not the boss. And the boss doesn't know you, and would never agree. I'm pushing way past what's reasonable, anyway. I just can't, Jeff. But I damn sure want to. Thank you for your offer."

Surprising Jeff, Tate put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not taking what you said lightly. I'll remember. Now, I have to go. A lot of things have to happen in a very short period of time. And if I screw up even once, I won't be your Sheriff much longer."

"Diana," he said, nodding his head to her. Then he was out the door and jogging toward his vehicle.

"What the hell is going on, Jeff?" Diana asked, turning toward her husband.

Jeff sighed. "The assistant DA played a fake tape of the shooting. He's had some expert 'enhance' it. It makes Joyce look like she shot Crawford after he changed his mind."

"But..."

"Oh, Patton will win if it goes to court. Tate was smart enough to give the original recording to the FBI, but the damage will already have been done by the time the case goes to court. When Joyce is cleared, a lot of people still won't believe that she was innocent. With all the publicity that will happen long before court, Tate will look like he's protecting a murderer. He won't stand a snowball's chance in hell of being reelected. Then the DA will push one of his cronies into the position. I'm almost certain that drugs, and Lord knows what else, are involved. The DA will have basically free rein of the county."

"So what is the Sheriff going to do?" Diana asked as she glanced back out the front.

"I don't know for certain. At a guess, I would say that he has something on the DA, but his timetable just got moved up — way up. I just wish to hell that I could go with him," Jeff finished, his face drawn.

-------

Sheriff Tate, having left worried people behind him, got in his vehicle and turned down the drive. When he got to the first county road at the foot of the driveway, he made sure that Randolph's car was out of sight before he started down the mountain. When he finally caught sight of Randolph, he backed off so that the assistant DA didn't realize that Tate had left so quickly.

A little later, Tate pulled into the lot of a small country store. Inside, he waited for the proprietor to finish with a customer. "Nathan, mind if I use your phone?"

"Sure, Sheriff. Your cell broke?" the old man asked, glancing to Tate's belt where his phone was visible.

"Nope. Just something I need to use a landline for. It's long distance, but I'll pay for the call."

"No need. Just dial ten ten two nine seven, then one, the area code and your number. Probably won't cost more than twenty-five cents unless you hang out on it for a while. But I guess this is going to be like the coffee, you're gonna pay no matter what I say."

"I'll stop by some time off duty and let you buy me a cup. I would take a free cup of coffee or a free soft drink when I was a deputy, but I can't do that as Sheriff."

"Ah, shit, Sheriff. Everybody knows you're straight. A cup of coffee ain't going to hurt; it's just being sociable. Besides, I darn sure ain't going to get robbed with your car out front. So you're paying for the coffee by giving me extra security." Then, "Use the phone in my office. Won't anybody hear you then."

"Okay, thanks." Tate laughed and went on back to Nathan's office. They had the conversation about the coffee many times in the past.

A few moments later... "Marcy is your boss in ... Good. Tell him to not go to lunch. I have an emergency and will be there just as soon as I can drive in. Make sure he doesn't leave. This is extremely time critical."

"Why don't I just get something for both of you?" the secretary asked. "He eats in a lot. What would you like?"

"Hamburger, fries, a soft drink — anything he's having. Just don't let him leave, please."

"Sheriff, he'll be here if I have to tie him down," she laughed. "Hey, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," she kidded.

Tate laughed. "See you as soon as I can get there."

After the Sheriff passed the intersection where the assistant DA would have turned to go back to his office, he flipped the overheads on and put the Crown Vic in the wind. Shit. I can't even tell Virginia. She would worry herself sick.



-------

Chapter 85

TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 24

Later as Sheriff Tate merged onto the interstate headed for Denver, he resisted the urge to push the accelerator the rest of the way down, keeping his speed down near one hundred, instead.

Dammit. Why does this son-of-a-bitch have to do this now? If we only had another month, we would be in better shape. We have enough information, but I would be more confident in a month or so. Damn. Damn. Damn!

When he entered the Attorney General's headquarters, he was met by a young lady that he vaguely remembered seeing from time to time.

"Sheriff Tate. I'm to escort you straight in to his secretary's office. She said that you were in a hurry."

"Thanks. I appreciate it. I am in a hurry."

Shortly, they entered the secretary's office. The intern smiled at him and left.

"Frances, I appreciate the escort in. Saved time getting past all the bureaucracy."

"Well, you said this was time critical, so I did what I could."

"What did he say when you told him."

"Just frowned and gave me his lunch order. He's lucky if he gets out of here for lunch two days a week," she answered while she picked up the phone.

"Your lunch date is here," she said into the phone, a smile on her face. Then to Tate, "Go on in while the food is warm."

-------

"Sit down, Tate. That's your food in the bag on the left. I was supposed to eat with someone a hell of a lot better looking than you, and I damn sure wouldn't have been eating out of a McDonald's bag. I hope whatever has got your panties in a wad is worth it," the Attorney General grumped.

Sheriff Tate picked up his drink and lunch sack before sitting in one of the comfortable seats in front of the big desk. Putting his drink on the floor, and opening his bag, Tate took out his hamburger, then raised one side of the bread to look at the contents of the sandwich.

"Will you quit fucking around with that burger and talk to me? What the hell is going on?"

"I think we have a leak," Tate said around the first bite.

The Attorney General, who had been leaning back in his big chair, suddenly leaned forward putting his elbows on his desk, staring hard at Tate. "We better not dammed have. Not as secret as we have kept this whole thing. There are very few people who know about it."

"Well, I told you that I didn't trust that fucking judge. I don't know who it is, but the DA is suddenly coming after me. And it is a serious thrust at my deputy, and you can bet he's going to the media with it. Hell, he sent one of his assistants who's a crackhead if I've ever seen one, to interview Deputy Cramer this morning..."

"Cramer? That's the woman who was shot a couple of days ago, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she's the one."

"Well, what the fuck is he doing? I thought that was open and shut. You have a tape of the whole thing, right? That's what they said on the news."

"Yep, and thank God I had called in a favor and had the FBI come out and take possession of the original. The DA has doctored the tape I gave him until it sounds like Cramer murdered the guy..."

The Attorney General held his hand up a little signaling Tate to wait. After a moment he said, "Let me speculate. You think the DA has gotten word of our investigation; at least enough to let him know that we're investigating something involving him. And he's seized this opportunity to hit you with a supposed cover-up for an on-duty killing. Cramer has already been in the news; still is. If he starts an investigation and goes public with it, the damage will be done long before this ever goes to court. By then, the election will be over and you will be out of a job. How close am I?"

"Dead-on as far as I can tell. About the way I see it, maybe with the addition that the next Sheriff will be one of the DA's cronies. The DA will be kingpin of the county as far as drugs are concerned, not to say anything about payoffs from dealers and other criminals who have some excess cash."

The Attorney General leaned back and put his feet on the corner of his desk, took a bite of sandwich and thought. Then, "We have the first cocaine deal that you brought me that we can trace back to the DA. Both he and two of his assistants signed off on the drugs supposedly having being incinerated after the plea was accepted by the court. We have proof positive that the drugs weren't destroyed, but sold to a dealer. Even so, he can always scream that there was a mix-up in paperwork, or that he just signed off on destroying the drugs, trusting his assistants' word."

The Attorney General took a sip of his drink, hastily grabbing a napkin and dabbing his tie. Then, "But I have something that I haven't told you, yet. I just got word this morning that the undercover agent has made the second buy. One of the ones that I personally inspected with your people before it was sent to the DA's office. They might get away with saying that your people lied about how much cocaine was in that bust, but I saw this one, and signed off on it myself. We've got them now for carrying a few grams to court, accepting a plea of a misdemeanor, then selling the rest. And I think a jury will believe my word.

"We also got word yesterday that the next marked shipment is on its way, but the dealer hasn't picked it up yet. I had still rather wait to gather more evidence, but these two stand a good chance of getting his ass, anyway. I was going to call you later today to tell you about the second shipment."

Tate grinned. "Yeah, that should be enough. And it's sure a relief. We have to move quickly. If he goes public with this supposed cover-up about my deputy murdering someone on duty with me hiding it, I can kiss my reelection in the ass. You know damn well that whoever gets the first licks in usually wins with something like this. Once the DA announces it, all I can do is defend. The damage will be done. The public will hear cover-up, and that's all they will hear. Cops are guilty until proven innocent, at least in the public's eyes."

Tate absently took a sip of his drink. "What about those other three incidences of only a small portion of the drugs actually showing up on the court paperwork. Six kilos and the guy was only officially charged with a few ounces? You know damn well why the DA suddenly changed his policy and his people are taking care of everything in court, telling my vice people that the dealer pled and they weren't needed for testimony when the cases come up. There's nobody to dispute the few ounces the DA says the guy had. 'Hey, that was supposed to be six kilos, not six grams.' Who's going to believe my people? Hell, the DA is being paid twice. Once for reducing the charge (most of the time to a misdemeanor) so the dealer isn't charged with a felony, then the DA gets paid again when he sells the drugs."

The Attorney General waited to swallow a hurried bite. "Yeah, I know, but he can cast doubt on all that with paperwork showing that there were only a few ounces. Then it's your paperwork against his paperwork. It's easy enough to confuse a jury as it is ... I'm still reluctant to go. After this next buy, there will be two separate incidents that I've personally seen and signed off on that were sold by the DA. I want him nailed with this. I don't want them to be able to blow smoke up the jury's ass and make them believe it was just a snafu in the paperwork."

"I have one more ace in the hole," Tate said, desperate, his lunch forgotten.

The two men sat looking at each other. My dad always said if you don't ask, the answer is already no,  Tate thought.

Staring the Attorney General in the eye, putting everything he had into it, Tate said, "I need you to get that warrant signed right now, and I need you to call out that entry team. If we leave in a few minutes, we can get there on time. How would you like..."

The Attorney General forgot about his lunch, too, as Tate brought him up to date with the latest from his informant.

-------

An older lieutenant dressed in black BDUs stood in the Attorney General's office, his face lined, his body fit. Although he stood relaxed, a pleasant expression on his face, no one in the room thought he wanted to be there.

After the Attorney General outlined generally what he wanted done, the Lieutenant cleared his throat. Looking first at Sheriff Tate then back at the Attorney General, "Gentlemen, no matter how I try to sugar-coat this, it's going to come out about the same way, so I'm just going to say it straight out.

"We need to have an understanding. I run my tactical unit. I do this for a living, and have for years. Once, several years ago, I deviated from training at my Captain's insistence. It was an easy one, he told me over and over, and some of the people there would complain, and they had the ear of the city council. I finally let him talk me into not handcuffing the women."

The Lieutenant paused for a moment. "One of the women I didn't handcuff gutted one of my men. She was sitting on a couch. As he walked by, she stood and drove a six inch blade upward under his vest into his guts. One of my other people put a three-round burst into her chest a half second later, but the damage was done. He was lucky. He spent six weeks in the hospital, then wore a colostomy bag for six months before they went back in and put his guts back right again. It took him two years before he was physically able to be back on the team. He's sitting outside in one of my vans, and for some damned reason he trusts me. I'm not going to let him down, again.

"At least my Captain had balls enough to stand up and say that he ordered me to not handcuff the women. I think there are some of my people who still haven't forgiven me for caving in. I know that I damned sure haven't forgiven myself.

"We train almost every day on something — building entry, search and seizure, firearms, calisthenics. Plus we serve narcotics search warrants on almost a daily basis, sometimes more than one per day. I subscribe to a Search and Seizure bulletin that keeps me abreast of every court ruling concerning building entry and the serving of warrants. I know you're an attorney, Sir," he said, directing himself to the Attorney General, "but respectfully, this is literally my life. I know what I'm doing. You tell me where you want the warrant served and everything you can about the situation, then I'll make the decisions about entry and securing the people involved. And again, understand, Sir, we put everyone face down on the floor with their hands on their heads and their legs crossed. When that's done, we handcuff everyone — behind their backs. No exceptions, unless they're pregnant, or handicapped in some way, and then we have special procedures for securing them. If you can't live with that, Sir, respectfully, I'm gone."

Sheriff Tate spoke up, "Lieutenant, I've been on a swat team. My commanding officer was the same way. I would not have respected him if he had been any other way. You won't have any problem from me."

The Attorney General looked hard at the Lieutenant. "There will be clerks there — female clerks — probably even several members of the public that have nothing to do with what's going on — innocent people..."

"Yeah, that bitch that gutted my man was an innocent person."

The Attorney General didn't say anything and the silence grew long.

The Lieutenant sighed. "Sir, my people haven't received a complaint in two years. Someone might piss on themselves when they look down the barrel of an MP5. Some might get helped to the floor if they're slow to react, but my people are professionals. We're not in this to hurt people. We do this almost every day. You pussyfoot around and the likelihood of a citizen getting hurt goes way up because some of them will have time to grow balls and decide to resist. We stay safe, and the citizens that we serve the warrants on stay safe because of our speed, the element of surprise, our professionalism and aggressiveness. You can call the last anything you want, but if the people on the receiving end know that they will lose if they resist, ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, they won't resist."

The Attorney General grinned a little. "Oh, hell. I know what you're saying is true. And if we were going to serve a warrant in a dope house, I wouldn't even blink, but if we fuck up in the DA's office..."

"Oh, shit," the Lieutenant said as he realized where he was to serve the warrant.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," the Attorney General said.

The Lieutenant sat in one of the comfortable seats in front of the Attorney General's desk. Crossing his legs, he leaned back and waited. Slowly, a smile crept across his face.

After a long moment, the Attorney General sighed, "All right. We'll do it your way, just don't..." He forced himself to stop. Sighing, he said, instead, "How long for you to be ready?"

"Both vans with my team are within two blocks waiting for me. One in an alley, the other on a side street. Where I go, they go."

"What type of vans do you have?"

"Two white Suburbans with the windows blacked out. Our tactical van with our heavy equipment will follow at a distance since it has markings on it; otherwise, everyone will know what is going to happen before we get there."

"You have a camera person with you?" Tate asked, knowing the answer.

"Always."

"You have any objection to the news media being there as well?"

"Which station?"

When Tate told him, the Lieutenant grinned. "No problem. She tells it the way it is. I'll have a talk with them to make sure they understand my rules."

"They should be here by now," Tate said. "They're going to be in an unmarked SUV instead of their van with the big antenna on top."

The Lieutenant looked at the Attorney General.

"The Sheriff and I have already talked about this. It's going to be on the news anyway. Might as well get it right. If they're part of this, chances are they'll have a better chance of getting the facts straight." He looked over at Tate. "Besides, it looks like this young lady and Tate might just have a thing going..."

"Hot damn. Don't even kid about that. I have never done anything with her. I'm dammed near old enough to be her daddy. And if my wife should hear anything like that, she would cut my balls off."

"Oh, relax Quinton. Besides, you're a little quick to jump in there. You might just be a little sweet on that young lady after all."

"Well, shit. Any man who doesn't notice her has some serious problems with his eyesight, and she has brains besides."

The Attorney General slurped the last of his drink through the straw before throwing the cup in the trash. "Okay, Lieutenant, this is what we've got."

-------

In order to keep from making a parade of it, they split up into intervals of about five minutes with a planned meeting place a few blocks from the DA's office. Shortly after Sheriff Tate turned off the interstate, he saw one of the vans sitting on the side of the road with a flat tire.

As he got out of his car and approached the van, he knew it wasn't good.

"Brand new vans and the fucking jack is wrong," the Lieutenant snarled. "I checked with the other guys. They have a jack just like ours." He pointed to a jack sitting by the van. The jack was obviously too small for the big van.

"I guess the quickest thing would be to get a wrecker out to pick up the van, if the spare is okay, that is," Tate said.

"Yeah, it's fine," one of the cops said. "But somebody either swapped jacks at the dealer's or they expected us to use a block of wood under the jack when we used it. It won't even reach the axle."

"Might be that your van has taller wheels than the jack was designed for and the dealer didn't change out the jack."

"Whatever; we're fucked," the Lieutenant snapped. "The tire is shot. Looks like a spike from the last railroad cut the sidewall of the tire. If..."

An older red pickup truck pulled over in front of the van. Shortly, a horn beeped.

"Now what the fuck does he want?" the Lieutenant said. "All we need is some damned citizen wanting directions..."

"Hey. One of you guys come here and help me with this jack," someone hollered from the direction of the pickup.

"Jack?" one of the cops said before he took off around the van.

Shortly he was back carrying one end of a giant floor jack like you would see in a garage — a garage that worked on big trucks.

"Howdy, Sheriff," Burt Andrews said as he and the cop put down the jack. Pushing with his foot, he rolled the jack under the van, aligning its head to the rear axle.

A few pumps of the five foot jack arm and the wheel was six inches off the ground. Having already broken the lugs loose, two of the cops quickly spun the nuts off.

"Burt, what're you doing out here?" Tate asked.

"Ah, I had to carry Big Bertha in to Denver to have new seals put in her," he answered, indicating the big jack. "Have to do that about every ten years..."

"We're ready, Sir," one of the cops yelled as they spun the nuts back on.

Burt gave a twist of the handle on the large hydraulic jack and the van slammed down. As a cop snugged the nuts tight with a lug wrench, Sheriff Tate said, "Just send me the bill..."

"Bullshit, Sheriff. Stop by the garage sometime and visit for a while. Hell, I know all the scuttlebutt in the county."

Just as Burt started to reach for his jack, two of the cops grabbed it and hurried to his pickup. Putting the jack in the back, they jogged back to the van. "We're ready, Lieutenant."

"Thanks Burt. I'll tell you about it later. Now we've got to run," Tate said slapping the mechanic on the shoulder and hurrying back to his car.

Shortly, the mechanic stood grinning on the side of the road as the car and van disappeared around the next curve. Somebody is going to have a bad day, he thought, his grin getting bigger. I wonder who in the hell it is.

-------

A little later, they sat in a parking lot a few blocks from the DA's office.

"Who is this informant of yours?" the Attorney General asked. "You never did tell me."

"The only one I don't want on the floor," Tate said looking at the Lieutenant. "We might need her help and if what she has been telling me about is actually going on, I'll need to briefly speak to her as soon as we enter.

"Describe her," the Lieutenant said. "Might be better if we put her on the floor like everybody else. That way, they won't realize who the informant is."

"Oh, he'll know, unless he's just plain stupid. He thinks he has something on her to keep her quiet. But she's decided that what he has on her isn't worth it, I guess. Anyway, it's the DA's secretary. She's about forty, tall, maybe just slightly overweight, dark brunette, wears glasses..."

Tate's cell rang. "Tate ... Yeah, five minutes away from the building. It should take us less than another five minutes to get to your floor ... Okay, be calm. When we come in, just point to his office door and stand clear. We're on the way."

"Let's roll. It's coming down right now."

"I hope the fuck you're right," the Attorney General said as he and Tate scrambled into the Sheriff's car to follow the two vans that barreled out of the parking lot.

As Tate swung his cruiser in behind the vans that had seemed to suddenly acquire blue strobes in the grill and back windows, Tate turned his overheads on. Looking in his mirror, he saw the news SUV swing in behind them with a grinning Margie Gresham driving.

A few blocks later, they swerved to the wrong side of the street near the door to the DA's building. Cops in black BDUs boiled out of the vans as Tate and the Attorney General ran to join them.

"Lock and load," the Lieutenant yelled, then added his trademark saying for luck, "And don't shoot me in the ass." The clatter of MP5 bolts going forward seemed to punctuate his sentence.

As they entered the building where the metal detector was located, the astonished security guard stood frozen for a moment.

"Go with us," one of the cops ordered, taking the guard by his arm. Another took his gun from its holster, pushing it into his duty belt behind the cop's back for safekeeping.

"We'll let you come back as soon as we get where we're going," another of the cops assured the startled man. "We just don't want anyone warned."

Another cop had already hit the switch to silence the metal detector as they all filed through to the elevators. In luck, one elevator was already at the bottom and the second one came down within a minute of the button being pressed.

Two very full elevators ascended to the third floor. "End of the hall on the right," Tate said, unnecessarily.

At a jog, they headed down the hall, Gresham and her cameraman jogging with them right beside the unit's cameraperson.

Having reviewed Tate's sketch of the floor plan of the DA's office, the lead people burst through the double doors into the DA's outer offices, then spread out.

"Attorney General's office. Search warrant. SEARCH WARRANT! Everyone on the floor. Hands behind your head," the entry team yelled over and over.

"What the hell?" a heavyset man of about fifty said standing.

With a wristlock and an arm bar, someone "helped" him to the floor.

"Everybody shut up and get on the floor — NOW!" one of the cops bellowed.

Suddenly, there were clerks, attorneys and people who had come to file complaints madly sprawling everywhere.

Tate, the Attorney General, the Lieutenant, two of the entry team, and the two news people jogged on through the chaos.

"Hell, he's going to hear us before we get there." the Attorney General gasped, the adrenalin and the short job having already winded him.

"I don't think so," Tate said, but didn't have time for anything else as they turned a corner to the left. The Lieutenant snatched the door open wide and they all went through behind him.

"There," his secretary said, standing to the side of the room, pointing unnecessarily toward a closed door. "It's locked and I don't have a key."

"We do," one of the cops carrying the two-man battering ram said as his grin got bigger.

"Knock and announce," one of them laughed as he and his partner automatically fell into their routine. Just as they reached the door, the battering ram weighing forty pounds made contact with the doorknob. One hell of a knock. At the same instant, Tate yelled at the top of his lungs, "SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT. SEARCH WARRANT!"

The beautiful door slammed open, its doorknob and locking mechanism scattering across the plush carpet.

The cameraman took deep breaths to keep from laughing aloud. Sprawled across the desk, face down, her arms under her head, a tall redhead screamed as the DA stroked her. Holding firmly to her hips, obviously in the short rows, the DA stroked the now-screaming woman. His brain finally processed the noise as his body automatically tried to stroke again, but the redhead squirmed free. He gasped and fell back into his high-backed executive chair, his dick fountaining come that splashed back onto his groin.

"He's been raping me for weeks," the woman screamed as she pulled away, pointing back at the DA. "He said he would have my husband fired and me, too. He said he would make certain we would never get a decent job in this state ever again, and he would have the finance company foreclose on our house."

Sobbing, she collapsed into a chair, her clothes forgotten.

"Pull his pants up and cuff him," the Lieutenant said, but he need not have bothered for the two cops, grinning from ear to ear, were already doing just that. Well almost. They put him on the floor and handcuffed him first — then, they pulled his pants up.

"You will all go to jail for this," the DA said, but everyone in the room knew it was just a bluff, and a poor one at that.

The Lieutenant spoke on his lapel mike for a second. Shortly one of the females on the entry team came running in. "Sir!" she said.

"Sorry to do this to you Liz, but I need you to take her to the hospital and have the doctor prepare a rape kit. Stay with her and start a report while you're there. You know the routine."

"No need for the paperwork," Tate interjected. "I'll have a deputy meet you there to do that for you."

"Ah, well. Most of the fun is over, anyway," she said. "Only problem we had was with some smartass little guy who jumped up and got in my face."

"Hospital?" the Lieutenant said wondering how bad off the guy was.

"Nah. I just took him down. He smacked his face against the carpet, but it didn't even bloody his nose."

"Oh, shit. I hope that's who I think it is," Tate said.

"I didn't pay any attention to the name on the door," Liz said. "Just one of the assistant DAs. But he has a lot of mouth."

"Come on, Ma'am," Liz said to the nude woman as she held out her clothes. "Let's get you dressed, then we can go down to the hospital so you can be checked out."

"But I let him. I mean, he didn't force me physically. I just didn't have any choice."

"Doesn't matter, Ma'am. It's rape just the same. Come on and let's get your clothes on. He obviously didn't use a condom, so there will be plenty of DNA evidence."

"Plus we saw him," Tate interjected.

The cameraman patted his camera and grinned at Tate.

Tate chuckled back at him. Oh, too bad Cramer couldn't be here.

In a daze, the woman allowed herself to be led to the adjoining bathroom.

-------

A few minutes later, her cameraman having continued on down the hall filming, Gresham leaned up close to the Sheriff. "Sheriff, if I wasn't in love with that big hunk of man with the camera..."

" ... And I wasn't married," Tate broke in. "And,  I take it that he took my advice about, uh ... not letting you get away?"

Gresham laughed. "Yeah, he did. And he said that you put him up to it. Heck, I guess our respect for each other just morphed into something else without our realizing it. I guess I owe you for that, too."

"Just name it after me," Tate laughed.

"Hmmm. Quinton isn't such a bad name," she said, winking at him. "I just might do that."



-------

Chapter 86

TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 24

After the assistant DA stormed out of the conference room, followed shortly by Sheriff Tate, Joyce alternated from being furious at the DA to being worried sick.

"Why are they doing this to me?" she said every ten minutes or so.

Patton had tried to reason with her. "We already talked about this. It's obviously political. For some reason, the DA is pushing a smear campaign against the Sheriff. That's the only logical conclusion."

"The assistant — what's his name, Randolph — is using cocaine, probably crack," Jeff said walking back into the conference room where the legal people and Joyce were gathered around the table. The two Sergeants were on a tour of the retreat as the girls turned on the charm.

"I think I know, but would you tell us how you came to that conclusion?" Patton said.

"You can smell him. I smelled him as soon as he came into the room. And he hasn't just started, either. Crack users smell like that after they have been on it for a while. Also, he's fighting a crack rage. And not fighting it very hard," Jeff added.

"He'll never win," Patton said turning to focus on Joyce. "He hasn't a prayer of winning. The court case, I mean. Not his 'fight' with crack. You could win this without the original tape, but with the original and the FBI expert to testify ... So calm down. As we've speculated, the only logical reason for this farce is to cast suspicion on the Sheriff at election time."

"They've bit off more than they can chew," Jeff said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Sitting down near Joyce, he spun one of the chairs away from the table to prop his feet on.

Patton took in Jeff's demeanor, realizing that he was trying to project confidence to a very upset deputy.

Jeff winked at Joyce. "I know that you're upset. Hell, anyone would be. But that smartass assistant is a pawn in this. Just as we have talked about you being a pawn. Only difference is that the Sheriff left here on a mission. I strongly suspect that when that mission is over, that assistant DA isn't going to be quite as cocky, and you will be feeling a lot better."

Joyce sighed. "Okay, maybe I'm acting like a wimp in this, but dammit I've tried my best to be a good deputy. I've done a lot of things that were way beyond the call of duty. I've just never been in trouble before. No wonder some of the old heads at the department literally hate lawyers — present company excepted," she finished nodding at the two attorneys.

"That man is a disgrace to our profession," Fontaine said, his voice tense.

Joyce went on as if she hadn't even heard him. "I just don't understand how this guy, and I guess the DA, too, can use our justice system to go after someone that hasn't done anything. Ah, screw it," she snapped, getting up and quickly leaving the room before her tears of frustration showed to everyone.

"Sorry about that," Jeff said to Patton.

"Hell, I don't blame her. And she's right. They're obviously abusing their power. But abusing it or not, they very well might achieve their goal of unseating the Sheriff — if indeed, that is their goal."

"What do you think the Sheriff has on his agenda?" Fontaine asked Jeff. "You mentioned a 'mission' that you thought the Sheriff is on..."

"I ... don't know. I tried to get him to let me go with him. He seemed to really think about it, but he said that he wasn't the one in charge." Jeff hesitated a moment, "He ... is confident and ... determined."

"He said that he wasn't in charge of what he's involved in?" Patton asked rhetorically. "Hmmm. This might really become interesting," he finished. Then after a moment continued with, "I have two investigators that worked through the night, and a political analyst who is working on this today."

Jeff looked over at Patton. "Why not tell them to stand down until we hear from Tate. A day or two shouldn't make any difference, and unless I miss my guess, it won't be that long before we know something."

Patton stared hard at Jeff. "I'd rather be safe than sorry. Waiting might waste valuable time."

"Okay," Jeff said. "You're right. I'm just going by my feelings. I shouldn't be telling you how to do your job."

Turning to Fontaine, Jeff changed the subject. "Are you free to close on the land deal with the Thompsons in the morning? I hate to keep putting them off. They mentioned something about a trip when we first talked. I don't know if they have made any firm plans or not, but I don't want them to think that we're trying to welsh on the deal."

Fontaine looked at his assistant.

"We've got the thing with Mr. Riley tomorrow at two, but anything we have for tomorrow morning can be put off."

Diana walked in, face scrubbed of the dark makeup, her hair now cascading down her back in gentle waves, and the elastic gone.

"Did I detect a little ... animosity between you and our distinguished colleague from the DA's office?" Patton teased.

"Well," she quipped. "That little idiot pushed me out of his way twice before he got here to the conference room. Third time was the charm."

"He was so high that I don't think he even noticed that you tripped him," Patton laughed.

Diana smiled at him. "Oh, I wanted to do more than that."

Jeff cringed, then commented. "Between you and Joyce, it's a wonder he made it out of here."

"You don't know how hard it was for me not to put my foot on his rear and shove just as he pranced down the front steps. He is the most arrogant, uh... person I've ever met," she finished, wanting to really say what she thought of him.

"It would be fun to destroy him in a court of law," Patton said, a smirk on his face as he winked at Fontaine.

Patton pushed back from the table. "I suggest that you two," he said directing himself to Jeff and Diana, "do whatever is necessary to get the young lady calmed down. Our investigation and planning will continue, but the worst part will be hers — the waiting.

"If the DA does manage to get this past preliminary and tries to play the bogus recording in court, there will be some serious allegations focused on the District Attorney and his staff. However, as I've said before, I doubt if they expect to go all the way with this. Their own allegations of wrongdoing concerning a police cover-up would by then have already created the desired harm toward the Sheriff's reelection.

"Unfortunately the first public thrust by the DA will be in the headlines. When the Deputy and Sheriff are found innocent a year or two later, the article will be a second-page, small-print item. The Sheriff will have failed his reelection, and the Deputy won't be retained by the new Sheriff.

"Even if the DA doesn't get this past preliminary, there could still be a lot of bad publicity for the Sheriff at the worst possible time. Bad news sometimes travels fast and speaks with a loud voice. The news media loves it. But good news usually travels slowly and has a quiet voice, if it is heard at all. When is the last time that you have seen a retraction printed as a headline?"

Shortly, as the attorneys and their assistants left, Jeff and Diana escorted them to the front entrance.

"I'll call you as soon as we talk with the Thompsons," Jeff told Fontaine.

"Okay, we'll be waiting for your call," the attorney answered, everyone's mood somber.

-------

Later, as the two Sergeants were walking to their cars, Griffin glanced over at Hernandez. "Uh, I have a couple of things that I'm going to check on before going back to headquarters, and well, I've kinda gotten forgetful lately. Seems like I'm going to forget to turn my radio back on, and well, you know how spotty the cell reception is around here..."

Hernandez looked over at him as they both stopped when they reached their vehicles. "I've already pushed it by hanging around up here..."

"Tate wouldn't have asked if it wasn't important."

"Hell, he only suggested thirty minutes or an hour. We gave him twice that," Hernandez fretted.

"And what if he needs more, but didn't want to get you in trouble by asking for more time?"

"Ah, shit," Hernandez said, resigned. "My Lieutenant is going to have my ass. All right," he sighed. "I have some things to do to keep me off the radio and away from my headquarters, too. Fuck it. I'll just leave everything turned off and go about my business. I have a couple of informants that I can spend some time talking with. But dammit, you owe me one. I'm going to tote a serious ass chewing over this, but if it might help Tate and Cramer ... Hell, it won't be the first chewing I've ever gotten." (Note: Hernandez isn't illiterate. Cops will sometimes say, "tote an ass chewing," when they mean to emphasize that it is a serious reprimand.)

Both men shook, grinning, before driving leisurely away.

Jeff turned from the door where he had been watching the two Sergeants, a grin on his face as well.

"You need to do something with Joyce," Diana said walking up to put her hands around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest.

"And what would you suggest? She's not exactly in the mood to be reasoned with. Hell, her career is about to go down the drain. There is a good chance she is going to be tried for murder or some such. I've tried to hug her; tried to tell her everything is going to be all right, but with all that she's facing, it just sounds stupid."

Diana smiled up at him, pulling his face down to hers for a prolonged kiss. Sighing, she finally pulled back. "If she were already one of your wives, I would just say to grab her up and fuck her brains out, but since you say that you are going to wait until you marry her for that..."

"Baby, I wouldn't do that to her right now, even if we were married. It just wouldn't be right..."

"Jeff Matthews, you have seven wives and still you amaze me sometimes about not understanding us. If you turned on your pheromones and did whatever it is you do with your mind, she would go off like a rocket, worrying about this DA or not. Now go find her. Throw her over your shoulder, or drag her by the arm until you find a bed, and make love to her. You don't have to stick your dick in her, but give her enough orgasms to get her mind off this."

"Diana, I really..."

"She was in her suite when I talked to her about ten minutes ago. And don't you let her tell you no. Just go in there, turn those pheromones on and get her naked. She isn't going to be depressed while she's having orgasms, and you darn sure know how to make us have them. Now go."

Despite her trying to push him, he reached around her with both arms, grasped her by her ass and pulled her feet off the floor as he raised her face to his. Kissing her hard, he teased her mind with his mental push, feeling her shudder against him. Sitting a flushed Diana on her feet a few seconds later, he strode quickly toward the elevator to go look for Joyce.

A few minutes later, he found her no longer in her suite, but on one of the decks. She was standing, looking out across the mountains, her gaze fixed, her mind obviously elsewhere. Knowing he was going to catch hell, but without preamble anyway, he picked her up and put her over his shoulder.

"No, Jeff, no," she started as she struggled.

"Yes, Jeff, yes," he said, laughing, which obviously didn't push any funny buttons at the moment.

"No, dammit, Jeff. I am NOT in the mood for this," she said, seriously trying to squirm out of his grip, only to find how useless her strength was against his. That just made her madder.

As Jeff reached with one hand to push the sliding glass door open, Joyce balanced on his shoulder, she seized the opportunity to try to roll off, only to grunt as the arm holding her clamped down almost instantly.

"I have my marching orders from the Queen Bitch," Jeff teased as Joyce fumbled for a wristlock, only to realize that she might just as well have been trying to move the wall for how much good it did. He ignored her and marched on. She thought about trying to bite or scratch him, but she wasn't that mad at him. Deep down, even in her anger, she knew that he was only trying to help her. Besides, she was a little leery of such activity, since the consequences might be more than she wanted to risk. She had been told about him spanking Diana with a hairbrush, and although that had been sexual play, she surely didn't want her ass blistered right now to add to her troubles.

Of course, a little of that under the right circumstances might be a lot of fun,  she caught herself thinking, then realized that she had forgotten to struggle. As they walked on down the hall, the realization also occurred that he was gently rubbing her butt, and his thumb was sneaking closer and closer to her pussy.

We've discussed his pheromones. He's proven that he can make us come by just kissing us and doing that thing with his mind — whatever it is. I know he's doing it to me now because I've getting hot just riding on his shoulders. Oh, damn you. Why do you have to be so sexy? I can feel the muscles of your shoulders move as you walk and your bicep muscle feels like a rock pushed against my side. How can you be so damned strong?

Oh, I know you're doing it to me. My pussy is already wet. She grunted as his thumb quit messing around and went for the gold.

She hadn't even realized they were in the suite until he gently put her on the bed. Without preliminary, he loosened her belt, unsnapped her jeans, pulled the zipper down, then tugged. Aggravating her own self, she obediently raised her ass a little for him to pull her jeans and panties down. He stopped to untie her shoes, then removed them and her socks, her jeans and panties following.

He didn't bother with her top or bra just yet, but lifted her tight bottom to shove a pillow under, then kissed her pussy while pulling her legs up to ride across his shoulders. She gave up, not that it mattered much one way or the other. Her first orgasm hit ten seconds later. There were lots more.

In the classroom many doors away, Arlene, Ann, Melissa, Jennie and Helen all tensed at the same time, their faces flushing. As they grinned a knowing grin at each other, Linda looked around her. "What?" she said, although she had a good idea from the expressions and the flush of Jeff's wives, but didn't know whom.

"Looks like Joyce is becoming one of us," Arlene said, trying not to giggle as the not-so-faint echoes of another of Joyce's orgasms raced through her.

"How do you guys do that?" Linda said, her own face now flushed as she realized that Jeff must be making love to someone.

"We don't really know," Ann answered after a moment of silence while the orgasm subsided, "but we hope you will soon be able to do it with your sister-wife."

The classroom door opened. Diana and Laura walked in followed by a somewhat dazed Caitlin.

"Shall we adjourn to our bedroom," Diana quipped. "I doubt if any of us will get anything done until Joyce passes out. I imagine that won't be anytime soon, either. My fault, I sent our man to get her mind off her troubles, so he'll probably wait a while before giving her the final one."

Linda stood as everyone else did, now highly embarrassed.

Diana hugged her. "Your man will marry you soon. Sorry we embarrassed you. I didn't expect the feeling to be so intense with Joyce. Jeff must be really turning it on for her. Will you be terribly mad at us if we leave for a while?"

Linda had to giggle in spite of herself. "A few days ago, I would never have believed this could happen. I'm just jealous that it isn't happening to me. Do you think Evie and I will ever be able to do it?" she asked, almost desperate.

Helen walked over to add her hug. "Without a doubt, Sweetie. Before I came here, I wouldn't have believed it possible. Although we've been able to feel Joyce and Caitlin a little when Jeff goes to their suite to make love to them — well, the limited version of making love — it's never been this intense. Looks like Sheriff Tate isn't the only one on a 'mission' today. Our husband obviously intends to blow our soon-to-be sister-wife away."

"Go on, everybody," Linda said hugging her teacher back. "I can always find something to do," a twinkle in her eye as she thought of her new vibrator that Evie had given her.

After dropping Caitlin off at the suite, the wives almost having succumbed to going in with her, they turned to go to their own suite. They made it to their sitting room before Joyce's next orgasm hit. Giggling, they shed clothes left and right, the smell of aroused females in the air, as they hurried through to their big bed.

"I want to taste our queen's milk..." Helen said in a lust laden voice as the door closed.

-------

They ate supper as soon as Dave and Evie got home, everyone anxious to see the evening news since Jeff thought whatever the Sheriff was up to might make the news services. He was right.

The pretty news anchor had barely made it to the station in time after Mike had transmitted the footage on to the station for editing while they were in route. The makeup girl did a rush job while another person brushed and sprayed Margie Gresham's hair. "I look like crap," Margie fretted as she tried to remain still for the two women to finish with her. Then hurriedly pulling on a new blouse, she glanced in the mirror. "It will have to do. I don't have time for anything else," she said.

A few moments later, "I'll wing it," she told a frantic producer when they realized that her script would never be ready for the Teleprompter in time. As she slid her seat closer to the desk, she looked at the monitor to make sure her blue jeans didn't show. Taking a deep breath, she waited for the countdown to finish its last seconds.

Her smile brightened TV screens for a hundred miles as she started: "Top of the news tonight is the serving of a search warrant," she said, her image replaced by the video of the tactical unit as they exited their vans. As they grouped up and paused for a moment, a voice yelled, "Lock and load," then thirteen men dressed in black BDUs and wearing heavy entry vests jogged toward the doorway of an official-looking building. The video editor had cut out the Lieutenant's next comment about not shooting him in the ass.

The scene dissolved into the unit pouring through another double doorway. Shortly, there was a shot of a large, expensive-looking door with two black-clad cops swinging a battering ram toward it, the big Sheriff just entering the picture shouting, "Sheriff's Department. Search Warrant!" The picture froze just before the ram connected, the large lettering on the door clearly visible: District Attorney written in an arch over the name, Harold Pierce. 

The picture morphed to the lower right quarter of the screen as Gresham's face returned. "We'll be back after these messages."

"Son ... Of ... A ... Bitch," Jeff slowly enunciated as the commercials came on and Joyce came to her feet jumping into the air looking like a crazed fan screaming for the Georgia Bulldogs.

"Oh, shit! Oh, shit!" Joyce kept saying. "I can't believe this." Then glancing back at the big screen, "How does it feel, you bastard?"

It was the longest set of commercials that Joyce had ever sat through.

Finally, the smiling anchor came back. "Earlier this afternoon, the Attorney General of the state of Colorado, accompanied by Sheriff Quinton Tate and a thirteen-man tactical unit served a search warrant on a nearby county's District Attorney and three of his assistants."

The tape played again, but this time continue for a few seconds more as the ram hit the door slamming it open, its locking mechanism and doorknob shooting into the room. The picture again froze as the big blue ram sailed forward a few feet before slamming into the deep pile of the expensive carpet, but the background on the right side of the picture was deliberately blurred out as a female screamed. Then the sound cut off and the picture froze again

"District Attorney Harold Pierce and three of his assistants are behind bars tonight after a search warrant by the Attorney General's office was served earlier this afternoon. According to sources close to the investigation, this has been an ongoing investigation for the few last months, culminating today as the warrant was served and the District Attorney was arrested. Our sources tell us that there are several more charges pending, but among current charges are the trafficking of various illegal drugs confiscated from drug dealers, misappropriation of funds, falsifying court records, and rape. We have also been told that the FBI has been called in and the District Attorney might also be facing charges from them."

As her dialogue went on, her pretty face now occupying only half of the screen, the other half showed Sheriff Tate in conversation with the Attorney General, their talk occasionally interrupted as various handcuffed people were led by. Finally, a screaming Jonathan Randolph was forced by, his angry words beeped out, his sentence more beeps than words.

Finally, minutes later, "In other news..." But there wasn't much time left for "other news." No one at the retreat seemed to mind.

Joyce, now quiet, sat on the arm of one of the couches, her eyes shiny with unshed tears of excitement. "He really did it. He really did it," she gasped. "I'm going to kiss him. I really am. If his wife gets pissed, she'll just have to get over it..."

"I just wish I could have been there," Jeff said morosely.

Joyce, now standing, spun toward him, "What? You wish you could have been there? You have no idea. None. God, I wish I could have been one of those guys with the ram. I would have thrown it in that son-of-a-bitch's lap, instead of on the floor."

Jeff just grinned at her.

A few minutes later Patton called, followed shortly by Fontaine. Both attorneys, in their own way, were almost as excited as Joyce.

But Sheriff Tate didn't call.

Joyce was getting nervous. "Surely he should have called by now. I mean; I know he is busy, but he had to know it was on the news. I can't believe he wouldn't call."

Jeff tried to reason with her. "The fun is over. Now they have to do all the paperwork. Crap, he will probably be there all night. They're bound to confiscate all the computers, no telling how many files..."

"But I want to talk to him. Hell, I want to be there," she fretted. "I wonder if they would let me in if I went down there?"

"Joyce," Jeff said, half afraid that she was serious.

"Oh, I know. I need to stay out of this. But, oh, crap, I want to be there."

"Just give the DA and that asshole assistant to us," Diana whispered to her husband as she snuggled up to him, an evil grin on her pretty face. "Why waste more of the taxpayer's money feeding that bastard?" She smiled while she was saying it, but Jeff got a vivid mental impression of both men stretched out naked on racks, their balls being pulled one way and their bodies another while they screamed at the top of their lungs. All nine of his women stood watching with maniacal grins on their faces.

Looking into Diana's eyes, he wondered how far from reality that would be if his Queen Bitch could really have her way. His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing, again.

Every eye in the living room locked onto Ann as she answered, "Matthews' residence, Ann speaking ... Yes, Sir, Sheriff Tate. Here she is."

Joyce couldn't have gotten to the phone much faster if she had teleported.

"This is Deputy Cramer, Sir."

"I assume that you have seen the news?" Tate's voice came on the line.

"Yes, Sir. We certainly have."

"I know that you were probably waiting for word, but the Attorney General, Sergeant Hernandez, Sergeant Griffin, and myself have spent quite a bit of time going over the evidence in the Crawford Hill case. He has reviewed your hospital records concerning your injury, and personally interviewed the paramedics and Deputy Goodman. We, of course, haven't received the results of the ballistic evidence or the autopsy information, yet. But the Attorney General has listened to the recording of the incident — the true recording. Although the official ruling from him will not be released until all the forensic evidence is back, he would, nonetheless, like to speak with you. Are you up to speaking with him?"

"Yes, Sir," Joyce said, knowing it had to be good news by the tone of the Sheriff's voice. The Sheriff paused for a moment, then added, "I know that you must have family there who are just as anxious as you. If you would like, the Attorney General has given his permission for you to put the phone on speaker, if that would be acceptable with you."

"Certainly. Wait one," she automatically dropped into radio jargon as she glanced down at the handset. Pressing the button, she said, "Sir, you're on speaker. My family can hear."

A new voice came on the phone as Joyce's hand shook. "Am I speaking with Deputy Joyce Cramer?"

"Yes, Sir. This is Deputy Cramer."

"Deputy, this is Attorney General, Morris Sanchez."

"Yes, Sir."

"As Sheriff Tate just told you, I have assumed control of the investigation involving the shooting of Mr. Crawford Hill on the morning of September 21st of this year. I will be brief with this, since I know that you must still be suffering from your injuries, but Sheriff Tate assures me that you would like to hear what my ruling is going to be concerning this matter.

"I have listened to the original tape which has been provided by the agent in charge of the Denver office of the FBI. Both the SAC and the head of his technical department have assured me that the tape is original and true. I have also listened to the tape that the District Attorney had in his possession. Obviously, they are not the same. The original tape has both weapons firing at almost the same instant; indeed, there is no way for the human ear to separate the sounds. Neither does the original have Mr. Crawford Hill calling out to you to 'wait.' There is a preponderance of evidence to indicate that you operated within the boundaries of law, reason, and the rules of your department concerning deadly force."

Joyce sagged against the arm of the chair she was leaning against, her breath catching in her throat as she continued to hold the phone out so everyone could hear better.

The Attorney General continued, "I would like to apologize for what this ... District Attorney has put you through to multiply an already traumatic experience to what it became. Again, my ruling will reflect the evidence and parallel the finding of your agency and the neighboring department, namely that it was a justified shooting from which there could have been no other logical course of action open to you at the time. You have been cleared of any wrongdoing.

"In addition, Deputy, I would like to add that your bravery in the defense of Ms. Turcott should be an example to law enforcement personnel everywhere. Well done, Deputy Cramer."

Joyce fought to control her voice. "Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much." She shut up before she said something stupid.

"I wish you a speedy recovery. You will receive my official ruling in the mail when the forensic evidence is all in. Have a good night, and God bless. Here is Sheriff Tate."

As Sheriff Tate came back on the phone, "Deputy, I am almost through here for the day. I would like to talk with you if it is all right for me to come up?"

"Bring your wife and sister-in-law," Jeff spoke up loudly enough for Tate to hear.

"Have you eaten?" Diana interjected.

"I had a sandwich a few hours ago..."

"We'll have a meal ready for the three of you when you get here," she instantly responded.

"Thank you, Diana," he said. "The Attorney General is on his way out right now, and I'll be leaving shortly. It will only take a few minutes to stop by to pick up Virginia and Elizabeth."

"We'll be anxiously waiting," Diana said.

Joyce pressed the Off button before absently setting the phone back into its charging cradle. "The Attorney General," she quietly said. "He said I was cleared of any wrongdoing. My God, I don't even know what to think. I just feel numb."

She didn't feel numb very long as the living room erupted in laughter and congratulations. Out of breath maybe from all the hugs, but that didn't take the grin off her face.

-------

Later, Jeff stood in the living room alone wondering just how to word his question, but disdaining to use the menu system. "Computer! Was the last show we watched on the TV saved?" Frustrated, he knew that the software wouldn't understand such a complicated question. Maybe, Computer. Last show. Saved? He thought. Damn, I guess I need to look in the instruction book.

YES SIR. THE LAST SHOW WAS SAVED. SHALL I ARCHIVE IT TO PERMANENT STORAGE?

What? It called me "Sir." It couldn't know who I am. But then he realized that the recognition program worked when a name was assigned to a face pattern. But it spoke in complete sentences. It's never done that before. And the software should never have been able to understand the question I blurted out. Something is going on.

SIR. SHALL I ARCHIVE THE SHOW TO PERMANENT STORAGE?

"Uh, yes. Store it under the heading newscasts, subheading warrant at DA's office."

See if you can unravel that.

ARCHIVED UNDER HEADING NEWSCASTS, SUBHEADING WARRANT AT DA'S OFFICE.

In a daze, he turned toward the doorway only to see Helen and Laura standing there. He was certain there were yellow feathers sticking out of their mouths.



-------

Chapter 87

TUESDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 24

Joyce and Diana stood just inside the mudroom as Sheriff Tate, his wife, Virginia, and her sister, Elizabeth, came in.

Joyce stepped forward but spoke to Virginia instead of Sheriff Tate. "Ma'am, I hope you don't hate me forever for this, but I'm going to kiss your husband."

Before Virginia could respond, Joyce grabbed her Sheriff around the neck, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. Although the kiss didn't last long, Quinton Tate knew what Joyce's tongue tasted like afterward.

"Thank you," Joyce said when she broke the kiss as she wrapped herself around him squeezing as hard as she could. Tate, reflexively put his arms around her and hugged her back, feeling her breasts push hard against his chest.

"Thank you," she went on, her voice muffled against him. "You said I had nothing to worry about, that you would see to it ... and you did. I'll never doubt you again. I work for the greatest Sheriff in the whole country."

When she finally let him go, Tate put his hands on her shoulders, looking her in the eyes. "Well, I always wanted to be the best Sheriff there was. I guess I finally made it," he kidded while he desperately willed his dick to stop swelling. Virginia is almost insanely jealous. If my dick gets hard, she'll make a scene and embarrass me to death. But this woman is gorgeous, and her breasts against my chest ... Don't go there. Don't go there,  he admonished himself.

Diana, sensing Tate's stress and guessing the reason, hugged Virginia. "Oh, it's good to see you again. We're so terribly proud of what Quinton did today. This has been very stressful for all of us, particularly Joyce, after that nasty assistant DA made those threats and left."

Turning to Elizabeth, Diana hugged her, too. "Come on. We have a nice meal ready."

"Mrs..." Virginia began.

"Diana, remember?"

"Elizabeth and I had a snack, but we were going to wait for Quinton to call before we began dinner for him. When he called, he said that he had agreed for us to eat with you. We feel like we're imposing..."

"Nonsense. We've already eaten, but most of us will probably have something while you guys eat, and my husband never misses a chance at another meal. He certainly will eat with you, and probably Dave will, as well. His appetite has been increasing lately, too. Everybody is waiting in the kitchen. The way the snow is starting to come down and as late as it is, you should just spend the night. It's not as if we would run out of rooms or anything," she said, distracting Virginia and beginning to lead everyone toward the kitchen.

I could see that instant of horror start to form on Quinton's face as he realized that Joyce was going to kiss him. He has to be worried about his wife being jealous. That's the only thing I can think of that would fit. But anyone can see that Joyce is just overwhelmed with what has happened. She's an affectionate person, and we've certainly encouraged it around here. Anyone would know that she isn't trying to make a move on the Sheriff, but he's obviously worried about his wife's reaction.

The frown starting on Virginia's face was obvious just before I intervened. Why is she so jealous? I didn't get any vibes from Quinton when he's been here before, and I'm not now. He talks to my face, not my tits. All my sisters like him, so they didn't get anything, either. So why would she be jealous of an innocent kiss from a young lady whose career Quinton has just saved? Strange.

"We don't know you well enough to spend the night," Virginia said. "Oh, don't misunderstand, we certainly appreciate the offer, but Quinton is accustomed to driving in the snow."

Elizabeth broke in with, "If it continues to snow, we might have problems leaving here later. We're in the car and there are a lot of curves going down the mountain before the snow will end," she finished, obviously not anxious to go back down the drive in the Crown Vic if the snow continued.

The Sheriff spoke up as they walked toward the kitchen. "I had my mind on other things when I left the DA's office. Mainly all that has been going on today and the things I still need to do. I never thought about checking the mountain weather. I just stopped and picked up the two of them. It never crossed my mind to change to the Explorer. It started snowing about a mile down the mountain."

"They say we're only supposed to get four inches or so. Oh, don't worry about being in the car. Jeff will be glad to run the plow in front of you if you insist on leaving tonight, but please think about staying. We really like you guys and we'll put you in a very nice two-bedroom suite. We eat early anyway. So you can be out of here in plenty of time in the morning to go back by your house for a fresh uniform, Sheriff."

As they reached the kitchen door, "We'll see," Tate replied looking at his wife.

-------

The Sheriff asked that everyone wait until after the meal for the replay of his day. Famished, he ate a lot, taking second helpings even as he apologized. "Nonsense," Laura interjected. "We love to see a man eat."

The girls took off to play video games and let the adults eat in peace, after receiving a promise to call them before Sheriff Tate told about his day.

Deputy Goodman, who had arrived shortly before the Sheriff, glanced at the two women. "So now we have two people with the same name at the table," he said.

Evie looked up from her pie. "Well, maybe not. Evie isn't short for Elizabeth. Mom liked Evie, so that's what is on my birth certificate. I don't know whether you're called Evie or not?" she finished while looking at Elizabeth.

The Sheriff's sister-in-law smiled back. "No. The family always called me by my full name. I can't remember anyone ever calling me by Evie, and I definitely don't like Liz."

"Well, shoot," Jesse laughed. "I thought I was being smart. So much for that idea."

"How do you stay in such good shape, Jeff?" Virginia asked as she realized that he was now working on his second rounded-up plate of food, even though Diana had told them that he had already eaten supper several hours prior.

"Well, I run some," Jeff offered after taking a big drink of tea.

"Quinton eats a lot, too, but I think you have him beaten. He never gains weight, though. Of course, he's always on the go."

"You and Elizabeth are both thin. Do you work out?" Diana asked to get the subject away from Jeff who was starting to get a little uncomfortable with the attention.

Elizabeth spoke up, "Yeah, Virginia and I work out almost every day, either at my house or hers. We live just a few hundred yards apart. I home-schooled Rachel, and Cindy. Cindy finished high school a few months ago and Rachel is in the eleventh. But I've been hanging around Virginia and Quinton for the last few days while the girls visit relatives."

"And they manage to keep up with their school work?" Helen asked. She assumed that the answer was yes, but was just fishing for more information.

Elisabeth chuckled. "Oh, Rachel usually stays ahead, just as Cindy did. Cindy is taking college courses on line, but hasn't fully decided what her major is going to be, yet. She's going to get the first two years out of the way before she has to start taking any of her courses on campus. At least that is the plan as of now."

"Laura and I are thinking about doing the same thing," Diana said. "But there have been so many things happening lately that we haven't gotten around to enrolling."

"What are you going to take?" Virginia asked.

Diana and Laura glanced at each other for a second. "Probably some type of engineering, possibly electrical, since our husband is an electrical engineer — when he isn't inventing things," Diana threw in. I know that we touched on Jeff having more than one woman, but let's see how you react,  Diana thought.

Although she fought it, a blush crept up Virginia's face at the mention of "our" husband.

Diana was watching closely. Yeah, she caught it all right.

Before the pause became uncomfortable, Virginia glanced around her at Jeff's wives. "Well, we obviously knew, and you have all been so nice to us ... I just don't know how you do it, though. I mean ... it makes me furious to see any woman come on to Quinton — even a little bit."

Sheriff Tate cleared his throat. "They aren't breaking any laws as long as there is only one legitimate marriage. Any number of people can cohabitate without violating any laws, and more do so than most people realize. I suspect that a lot of it is to pool resources — incomes, a house or apartment, vehicles and other things. Most don't advertise it, but I've been in many homes over the years where I was almost certain it was going on, or had to deliver a message that someone had been injured, only to have two women have a come-apart. Whatever works. Obviously it does for our friends here."

"Well, don't even think about it, Quinton," Virginia said with a laugh, but there was an underlying hardness to her voice.

Jesse and Alesha looked at each other.

-------

Everyone was gathered in the living room. "All right, Quinton," Diana teased. "You've kept us in suspense long enough. Time to spill it."

Tate glanced over at Diana as she slid a comfortable chair closer to him. He seated himself and waited for everyone to be settled. "Oh, well," he sighed. "It's not as if I'm trying to keep anything from you. Heck, I think the whole county should know, at least as far as we can go without jeopardizing the prosecution of the case against these people. I can't see where telling you would hurt anything.

"There is still a lot of work to do at the DA's office. It seems that the more we dig, the worse the stink becomes. I left people guarding the place, and there are two people from the Attorney General's office there doing the same thing.

"We got the FBI into it, and they have interviewed the DA and Randolph. Since they didn't realize that there was another tape, both have insisted that their tape is true and original. In other words, they have lied to the FBI, which will unfurl yet another ball of fur, to mix metaphors a little. I suspect that the FBI, as is usual for them, will try to take over the investigation and prosecution of the DA and his assistants, but the Attorney General says it isn't going to happen.

"Let the big boys butt heads, or learn to get along like adults. I don't really care. The DA is done. There is no way in hell he can make all this go away. With a felony conviction looming, he's out of office, and with all he's facing, disbarment probably isn't very high on his list of worries right now.

"One of the assistants is just about doing handstands to get our attention so he can testify against the DA and Randolph, in order to get his part in this reduced."

Tate took a sip of his coffee and paused, gathering his thoughts.

Jesse snuck an arm around Alesha, then when she smiled at him, pulled her against him as Tate continued.

"This started almost a year ago when the Lieutenant in charge of my vice unit came to me. He's a smart guy, and he had his ducks in a row before we even sat down together. Names, dates, all the paperwork from our end, and as much as he could glean from the court end. The DA's office suddenly didn't need testimony from any of the arresting officers if it were a drug case. Pretty soon, the vice officers weren't receiving any subpoenas at all. If they questioned when a case was coming up, an assistant DA would tell them that the case had been plea bargained and the guy got, say, five years or something like that.

"Of course, drug dealers do the same thing over and over again, and eventually an officer would arrest someone who he had been told had already gotten jail time for another recent case. A few remarks like, 'Nah, I got off on that, ' got the vice unit incensed. But like I said, the Lieutenant in charge is smart. Instead of complaining, he started compiling information.

"Now, we all expect most cases involving drugs to be plea bargained. It's just a fact of life. Dockets are full, for years in the future sometimes, and judges, DAs and defense attorneys make deals on cases where they and the person arrested know that a conviction is going to happen. Well, sometimes even on cases that are not so cut and dried.

"Anyway, after awhile, it became clear to this Lieutenant that all the cases from his unit were plea bargained. And it must have been one hell of a plea bargain, because no one was doing any jail time. When he came to me, he had thirty ironclad cases that had been bargained and the person arrested was still out selling. Anyway, to make a long story a little shorter, I took the paperwork and the Lieutenant to see the Attorney General.

"The Attorney General wanted to be subtle with our investigation so we didn't tip the DA off. Eventually, the Attorney General got personally involved behind the scenes with several big busts. Secretly, he double-checked the amounts and signed off on them. We were able to mark the drugs and recovered two of the shipments after the DA supposedly destroyed them after court.

"The DA would sign for, say, two kilos that vice confiscated, then he or his assistants would carry two ounces to court on the, then, misdemeanor, then sign off on two ounces as being destroyed. He would then sell the two kilos. We managed to have an undercover cop buy one of the shipments, and another shipment was confiscated on a drug bust by another department — one of our marked shipments of dope that the Attorney General had inventoried.

"In addition, our informants began telling us that for the right money, the DA would make a drug case go away, or be reduced to a misdemeanor — well, actually most any case, drug-involved or not. There was even a graduated 'fee' depending on the size of the bust, or the seriousness of the crime. The Attorney General was waiting until he had so much evidence that the DA could not possibly wiggle out of it, but something happened. Probably a leak on our end, or else the DA had just decided that I was a little too honest for his blood. I had to go. Apparently, he saw an opportunity to paint me with a lot of bad publicity, even make it look like I was covering up an on-duty killing by one of my deputies.

"Had this investigation not already have been in the works, the DA's plan would probably have worked. It was a win-win for him. If something blew up, he could just blame everything on an overenthusiastic assistant who was a drug addict. He could fire the guy and say he wouldn't tolerate such conduct from his assistants."

Tate looked around him and sighed. "It came close to working. Thank God, the Attorney General is going to keep the underlying reason for the DA's conduct away from the press. Nobody is going to listen to anything the DA says now. Even if he somehow manages to get the ear of the news media, the Attorney General having ruled that it was a good shoot will end it. It's no longer my word, or that of a neighboring Sheriff, but the Attorney General himself. It's done, Deputy," he said, staring hard at Joyce. "And before you think too highly of me for defending you, just remember, the DA's real reason was to get me out of office."

"Yeah, we all agree," Jeff said. "But then again, two attorneys, their assistants, Diana and I saw the look on your face when you left this morning. The DA was not going to do this to your deputy. You told her over and over to not worry, that you would take care of it — and you did."

Jeff stuck out his hand. "Although my compliment means nothing in the overall scheme of things, I'm going to say it, anyway. Well done."

Dave started For He's A Jolly Good Fellow and the girls took it up, then everyone joined in. Although they were mostly kidding the Sheriff at first, there was more than just a modicum of sincerity as they bellowed out the little song.

It embarrassed the big Sheriff until Jeff was afraid Tate was going to pass out.

-------

The snow picked up and shortly the security system showed the driveway again covered. When Virginia started making noises about leaving while they could without Jeff having to plow the driveway, the girls got involved after a nod from Diana.

Soon Elizabeth and Virginia were almost literally dragged out the door of the living room to see "your suite."

Jesse had left a little earlier, but had told Jeff that his dad's four-wheel drive pickup would negotiate the driveway just fine with the few inches of snow that had accumulated. There was no water mist tonight to make a strip of ice.

Later, Jeff and Quinton Tate were left alone in the big living room. Jeff sat across from the Sheriff, a long, low table between them. "A refill?" Jeff asked as he motioned with the coffee carafe.

"Yeah," Tate said, sliding his cup closer.

"Some people can't drink coffee this late and expect to sleep well. But I guess that I had so much over the years that it doesn't bother me."

Tate chuckled. "I worked nights for quite a while when I was a deputy. I got in the habit of drinking it, then just never backed off when I left night shift. I probably drink way too much caffeine, but it never seems to bother me, either."

Jeff filled both their cups, then slid Quinton's back across the table. "What's bothering you, Quinton?" Jeff asked, as he leaned back and crossed his legs.

Tate had reached for his coffee, but snapped his eyes up to stare at his host.

"So, I've had a big day. There are several things on my mind," Tate responded, an odd sound in his voice.

"I know that you can lie better than that if you choose to do so," Jeff said, his grin starting.

"Yeah, I guess I could, at that," Tate said. Taking a sip, he leaned back and crossed his legs.

"So out with it."

"Well, fact is, you have been good to me and my department. But I'm a cop by nature, not just by election..."

Jeff caught Tate's eye. "If you're worried about pissing me off, just get on with it. Pissing me off now, or two minutes from now, won't make any difference in the outcome. Does your department need something? If so, just ask. We owe you bigtime."

The Sheriff was a little taken aback. "Uh, my department always needs something. But you certainly don't owe me anything."

Jeff took another sip of coffee. "Well, now that we've flattered each other, let's cut the shit and get on with it." He grinned to let Tate know that he was kidding.

"Oh, Hell. I wouldn't have any trouble asking for something for my department, but this isn't for the department. Uh, Jeff, I really don't want to piss you off, but ... things just don't add up. Goodman said that you called him that night — well, morning. Your wife, uh, Diana, that is, called dispatch. How did you know that Deputy Cramer was into some shit?"

Jeff had known that Tate had probably let the investigators assume that Deputy Goodman had heard everything go down on his portable radio, since Tate had mentioned this before, at least peripherally.

Jeff sighed, wondering just how much he could get away with, but another glance at Tate's eyes, and he knew that the Sheriff had, at least, an inkling. Little One had told him that Tate was an Alpha, and although Jeff and Tate had gotten along from the start, Jeff was still cautious.

"Are we talking part of the investigation, or are we talking off the record?"

"The investigation is over. A done deal. This is between us and won't leave this room if that is your desire. Whatever the means, you saved my deputy's life because of it. Had Goodman not have known when he did, she would have bled to death — almost did, anyway." Tate waited a moment, then, "You have my word."

Jeff realized that he could feel Tate's intensity.

As Jeff started to answer, Tate interrupted, "You're psychic, aren't you?"

Jeff started, then laughed. "No. No way. I've had ... I guess you could call them ... hunches from time to time. But I've never really thought anything much about them. But this was different, more intense. Ah, shit ... You're not going to believe me. Hell, I don't believe it."

"Try me," Tate said.

Jeff hesitated.

{{{ He is not lying. He regards his word very highly. }}}

Thank you, Little One. I felt it, too,  Jeff thought to her, realizing that she had begun to interact more and more with him as he went about his daily life. So, you can hear the Sheriff's thoughts now, as well as mine?

{{{ No. But I can ... We do not have the concept between us. The nearest I can come is feel. I can "feel" his emotions. He has no intention of lying to you. }}}

Since their thoughts were exchanged as concepts, the exchange was over quickly without Tate noticing a lapse.

Jeff sighed. "I was asleep. From what my wives say, very deeply so ... I was there with Joyce, almost as if I were sharing her body and mind. Well, at least for the last few seconds before that bastard fired that fucking hand cannon at her," Jeff said, his eyes taking on an intensity that the Sheriff had seldom seen with anyone — well, maybe never.

"Jesus," Tate quietly said, his voice almost a hiss. It never occurred to him to doubt Jeff.

Tate sat and thought for a minute. "So it wasn't as if you believed Joyce when she told what happened, you knew what happened. You sure this hasn't happened before? Oh, well, Hell. I guess that was a dumb thing to say."

"Well, I've had hunches. An instant before we were attacked, I got this feeling and warned my ... people. (Jeff is referring to his military career.)  But then again, a sniper almost killed my ass once, and I didn't have a fucking clue. There was an incident on the interstate a good while back where I yelled for Diana to turn off. We would probably have been killed if she hadn't, but shit, I've known other guys that something like that happened to in combat. Some of it's luck. Some of it's, probably, something that your subconscious picks up on that your conscious mind doesn't notice. Hell, I don't know."

"But this was different?"

"Yeah. For want of another term, scary different. I was pouring sweat. It about scared me to ... Hell, Quinton, I thought she was dead. I felt that big bullet slam into her chest. I felt the pain as her sternum shoved into her heart. I felt her trying to breathe. I was there. But I couldn't do a damn thing for her. Then I was back in our bed with the women shaking me, trying to get me to wake up — covered in sweat."

"So you had Diana call headquarters to find out if this was a dream or not? Then when they wouldn't tell you anything..."

"Well, actually they did — in a way. Diana could hear frantic radio traffic in the background. Then we called Deputy Goodman to see if he could find out anything for us. The rest you know."

Tate took another sip of coffee, then, "No. I don't know everything. I've heard of miracles, I guess you could call them. People suddenly getting over cancer, someone that everyone thought was dead getting a heartbeat after a half hour. Tales of people looking down on themselves as doctors worked to save their lives. Ah, shit. Who knows?

"I was impressed with Joyce suddenly getting better in that hospital, but she's young. Youth sometimes comes back from things that would kill someone my age, but then there was Turcott..."

Jeff casually took a sip of coffee, masking the turmoil in his mind.

"I visited Ms. Turcott before she got out of the hospital. She was worried that her insurance wouldn't pay for a specialist to operate on her ear to try to bring back some of her hearing. She was puking her guts out from the vertigo from the damage to her inner ear. I saw the blood in her ear that morning. I doubted if she would ever have decent hearing out of the ear on the opposite side of her head from that .44, let alone her right ear that was only inches from the muzzle when that son-of-a-bitch fired. Yet, here she is tonight laughing and cutting up with my deputy. If she isn't totally well, she's damned close."

Jeff just waited, resigned.

"There wasn't the instant recovery with Turcott that happened in the hospital with Cramer, but it's only Tuesday night, and this happened Saturday morning. The common denominator is you. You, the guy that knew my deputy had been shot before anyone else did."

"Sheriff..."

"I thought that we agreed that we were on first-name basis. I'm suddenly 'Sheriff, ' now?"

Tate thought for a moment. "You're an inventor. An inventor who's living in a... house that's worth more than I could make in ten lifetimes, fuck, maybe twenty."

Jeff sighed, "Quinton..."

"You misunderstand," Tate said putting his empty cup back on the table, but still leaning forward to stare at Jeff. "I'm not asking for your secret. I don't want anything for me. I've got a sister-in-law down the hall there somewhere," he said waving his hand toward the door. "Wherever your wives have decided that we're going to sleep tonight. She's a good person. A heart of gold. Life has shit on her, and in addition to that, she has a form of arthritis that started soon after her husband died. She took his death hard — really hard. Then six months later she was diagnosed with arthritis, and it's just an offshoot to some type of autoimmune disease that is causing her health problems. She's steadily getting worse. Her body seems like it's trying to destroy itself.

"I'm not asking anything for me, Jeff. I'm asking for her. She means a lot to me." Seeing something on Jeff's face, or thinking that he was seeing something, he quickly added. "Please don't get me wrong. There is nothing between us. Oh, I love her to death, but I've never touched her. Shit, Jeff. I don't know how to ask..."

"Hush," Jeff said, seeing the desperation on Tate's face. Little One, can we make this woman's recovery a gradual thing like you did for Alesha?

{{{ There was an indignant response that essentially meant, Of course. }}}

"Quinton, if this gets out..."

"It won't. Damned sure not from me."

"Then we need to figure out a way to keep her quiet about this. Not to say anything about your wife."

-------

Later, in the stillness of the night, Jeff walked down the hall. He quietly opened the outer door to Tate's suite and standing just inside in the glow of the nightlight, he paused. Which one? Right or left?

He tried the bedroom on the left and found the door locked. Probably this one, he thought. If she has the deadbolt on... 

There was a sound so soft that only Jeff's ears could have detected it, then: {{{ The deadbolt is now open. }}}

Jeff grinned as he pushed the door slowly open in the darkness. Looks like I sleep in the corner again. But there was a smile on his face.

-------

Much later, in the dimness, he quietly closed the door to Elizabeth's bedroom and took the few steps to the other bedroom of the suite. After a moment, he quietly pushed the door open.

When he got close to the bed, he could see that the Sheriff's eyes were open watching him as he lay on his back with his wife snuggled in his arms. Little One's blue glow bathed the man and wife. Tate's eyes closed as he joined his wife in a deeper slumber.



-------

Chapter 88

WEDNESDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 25

Jeff sat in the living room as the new day made its way onto the mountain. The snow had stopped earlier in the night, but the clouds were low and thick — and from his little experience with snow, looked to him like they might not be done with the white stuff.

By the time Little One finished with the Sheriff and his wife, there had been little point in trying to go back to bed. He had spent many nights combat-sleeping while on missions, and he seemed to require much less sleep now that Little One had enhanced his body, so he felt fine — well, had, until the treadmill. The treadmill had been... boring. And that was the best thing he could say about it. Of course, it beat busting his butt on the snow on the driveway and the mountain road. He knew that his wives had been using treadmills since he had started them jogging, but he marveled at their tenacity in apparently overcoming the boredom. He had used the stair machine for longer than he generally did — mostly to get away from the treadmill.

Sheriff Tate walked in carrying two cups of coffee. "Your, uh ... wives sent you this," he said, putting a cup down on the table next to Jeff. "Sorry about that," he said. "It just seems ... odd to say wives instead of wife. Hell, I don't know how you do it. Virginia gets her panties in a wad if she even thinks I may have looked at another woman. I swear the older I get, the more jealous she gets. Talking to her about it does absofuckinglutely no good."

Not sure how to respond to that, Jeff took a sip of the hot coffee as Tate sat down, then motioned to the view outside the glass wall. "Looks like the snow isn't done, yet."

"Yeah, you might be right," Tate said glancing out the window." He pushed the recliner back a little, then took a sip. "Damn, that's good. What kind of coffee is this?"

Jeff told him, but added, "Several people have asked about the coffee. It's not all the coffee, and it certainly isn't all that exotic; although, I do like the Breakfast Blend of the Marques De Paviva that we get at Sam's Wholesale, but I think the main thing is that the water is filtered so many times. I have a copy of the test that Frank had run on the well water when he built the place. The water is pure even before the filtering. The lack of chemicals in the water here probably goes a long way toward making coffee that is less bitter and has a better natural taste.

"If you think about it, most cities that get their water from a river are drinking the sewage from cities above them. Oh, it's 'processed' before returning it to the river, and then the next city processes it again, but any way you look at it, it's had feces and urine in it at some point. Then they dump in enough chlorine to, hopefully, kill any bacteria that are left."

Tate looked at his coffee for a moment. "Well, at least around here, the cities and towns generally get their water from wells, but yeah, I know what you're talking about. Much of the water in the US has some type of contaminate in it, if not what you mentioned, then chemicals from industry all over the country."

"I don't know what Frank managed to tap into when he had those wells drilled, but there's a whole column of things that the lab checked for. Other than a few minerals that are basically good for us, everything else is either zero or almost unbelievably low. Plus there's a guide of 'acceptable' amounts so you have a better awareness of what all the numbers mean. Just after we came here and I saw the test results, I got on the net and checked some of our major cities. What's in their drinking water will scare you."

Tate took another sip of his coffee, thinking, then. "If it's that pure, maybe I should talk to you about getting some from time to time for our drinking and cooking water." He had started his comment with the intention of making a joke, but realized that he meant it.

"You're welcome to it, anytime. And I would encourage you to do so. There's certainly enough of it. The driller's report on the wells is in the kitchen office with some ungodly amount of flow per hour. And there are two of the wells about a quarter of a mile apart. The water is ice-cold, even in the summer. The driller told Frank that the water was probably coming from very deep down; although, how it got up this far on a mountain is something I know nothing about. Frank tried to lecture me on folds and tectonic faults, but all I know about it is that rock folds are something that occur in the Rockies."

"So you wouldn't mind if I brought up some jugs on a regular basis?"

"Jugs? Heck, let's look on the internet and see if we can come up with something better than that. Maybe some stainless steel drums, or a tank that you can put on a pickup truck and use a winch to take it off when you get home, or maybe have it permanently mounted on a trailer."

Thinking a moment, he continued, "Helen is always coming up with practical research projects for the girls. I'll mention it to her. Chances are that in a couple of days they will have a system designed that will astonish you. It would give them an excuse to use a CAD program..."

"Uh, I don't want to get the 'girls' as you call them, aggravated at me. And that might just happen. Besides, all I need are a couple of fifty-five gallon drums and a winch..."

Jeff interrupted as he laughed. "You won't get anyone mad at you. You don't know my girls. They'll take it as a challenge, and the result might just surprise you."

"Okay. I'll sure truck a little water down the mountain to get coffee that tastes like this."

Momentarily running out of things to talk about, both men just sat looking out the window. Finally, "I want to thank you for what you did last night. I never expected you to do Elizabeth and me. I thought you had just picked the wrong bedroom when you came in this morning..."

"So how do you know that I did anything to you?" Jeff asked as he tried to keep his voice neutral.

Tate sniggered a little. "I think you know the answer to that. I saw you come in this morning. There was some kind of blue glow, then I woke up feeling like a million dollars. I feel better than I've felt since ... Hell, I don't know. But it's been a long time. I'm pushing fifty, but I feel damn good this morning. Virginia woke me trying to tickle me. She was giggling like a kid.

"I walked down the hall behind the two women, and Elizabeth was barely limping. She said that her hip and knee didn't hurt at all this morning, and were just a little stiff. Both of them were sure that it was the elevation and reduced air pressure that had something to do with Elizabeth's joints being better. I wonder what they're going to blame it on in the morning when we're at home," he finished, grinning.

"Remember, Quinton..."

"No need, Jeff. They don't have a clue, and I'll make sure it stays that way. Elizabeth started some new medicine last week for her autoimmune problems. She'll think that is the reason. Although it's going to be hard for me to keep my mouth shut about feeling better, I will. Thank you, Jeff. I never expected you to use your invention on Virginia and myself, but you know that I appreciate it. To see Elizabeth walking down that hall this morning..."

After another lull in the conversation, Jeff caught Tate's eye. "What do you know about Alpha Males, Quinton?"

Tate chuckled. "Well, I know a guy who sure thinks he's one, or at least thought so yesterday. Of course the little twerp might not think that this morning while he's sitting in that jail cell wishing for another crack rock."

"I would have thought that they would have made bond by now," Jeff said.

"Ah, they'll probably keep them for seventy-two hours or so. But the SAC and the Attorney General have both mentioned flight risks, so I expect the bond to be high when they get around to setting it."

"What about the guy who faked the tape?"

"The SAC called me before I left the DA's office last night and said that they had a warrant for him, but he must have gotten word, because he wasn't at his home. His wife claimed that he packed a bag for a hurried trip and left without telling her where he was going. If he's dumb enough to call his home, they'll have him. I suspect that he's headed for Mexico or some such."

"So it really is over?"

"Yeah, it is, but I hate to think what this has done to Deputy Cramer. Some of the old heads might have expected to be fucked over, but she's young and hasn't gone through anything like this before. This just plain blindsided her, and I hate that."

"Life's a bitch — then you die," Jeff said, only half joking.

"Coming from a guy with a half dozen wives and more money than he can count..." the Sheriff said with a grin, leaving the sentence hanging.

"Yeah, God has been good to me — to us. But we've had a bump or two. Now back to the Alpha Male. What do you know about the subject?"

Tate realized that Jeff was serious. "Well ... I guess it's someone who thinks he's better than everyone else for one reason or another. Maybe bigger, stronger. Things like that. Maybe smarter."

"My wife thinks you're an Alpha," Jeff said, looking Tate straight in the eye.

"She ... Shit, Jeff. I don't know what to say about that. I'm just a small-county Sheriff. There's nothing special about me. Hell, you could buy and sell me with your pocket change. County Sheriffs don't make a killing, even the rich counties like El Paso, Adams or Arapahoe. Why would she think I'm an Alpha? What the hell is an Alpha Male, anyway?"

Jeff just looked at Tate and grinned. "There's not an easy answer to that. But I think she's right." I know damned well she's right,  he thought. "But since you mentioned the assistant DA, he's absolutely not one. An Alpha isn't someone full of bluster and pride. Far from it. An Alpha doesn't have to brag, nor try to convince everyone that he's the best..."

"Come and get it before we throw it out," Diana said over the PA.

"We'll talk more later," Jeff said, standing. Retrieving his cup, he motioned for Tate to precede him. "Let's get some food inside us. Plenty of time to talk about things later."

A confused Sheriff grabbed up his empty cup and headed for the kitchen.

-------

After first sitting at the table to have the blessing, all began filling their plates at the breakfast bar/steam tables.

Quinton, Virginia and Elizabeth each acquired someone to make them feel welcome as they loaded their plates. Although it looked casual, it wasn't.

"Oh, quit being bashful," Jennie told Virginia. "That's not enough to keep a bird alive. Here, try a couple of these pancakes; they're small. Let's get you another plate so the topping won't mix with your eggs. What do you want? Strawberries, cherries, whipped cream, maple syrup..."

Virginia and Elizabeth, who had both been a little uptight about spending the night in such luxury, not to mention with people they didn't know very well, soon relaxed. By the time everyone was seated, even Virginia was smiling for real, despite the obvious harem that Jeff had. Somehow, it didn't bother her as much just then; she just felt too good this morning.

Elizabeth, for the first time in months, had gotten up and moved about without pain, sometimes excruciating, in her lower back and knee. She had automatically reached for her pain pills as soon as she awakened, then had stopped just after opening the bottle. Almost too good to believe, she moved her leg experimentally, then sat up on the side of the bed. No pain. No pain.

She had still expected it to hit as she carefully stood. When it still didn't, she stripped off the gown that had been hanging in the closet for her last night and walked slowly toward the most beautiful shower she had ever seen. By the time the shower was over, she caught herself quietly singing. I haven't sung in my morning shower since ... he died,  she thought. Dear God, it feels good to not hurt.

When she had opened her door to go wake Virginia, both she and Quinton were on the couch in the sitting room waiting for her.

"My gosh, you look great this morning," Virginia greeted her.

Elizabeth had laughed aloud. Something else she seldom did since her husband had died and this autoimmune thing had kicked in. "I feel good, too," she acknowledged, hugging Virginia, then Quinton. "It must be the altitude. I know that old people used to say that they could tell when the weather was going to change by the way their arthritis began to hurt more. I've heard it speculated that the change in air pressure might have made it. But if that were it, it's helped mine instead of making it hurt worse. I don't hurt anywhere, and I didn't even take a pain pill this morning."

Two women, in a better mood than Tate had seen them in years, set off down the hall with him following.

Elizabeth related her experience this morning to everyone at the table, and Virginia joined in by saying that she felt wonderful as well. Both women, unlike yesterday, were almost bubbly as they talked to Jeff's women, Evie, Linda and Dave.

Linda, who had obviously listened to every word that Elizabeth had said, commented, "You know, the same thing happened to me after I had been here a day or two. I just suddenly realized that I felt really great all the time. I used to hate waking up in the mornings. I was not a morning person, but now I'm up and ready to come help with breakfast — and it's fun. I agree with you; there's something about living up here that really makes you feel great. I swear that I can even memorize things for school better. School has always been pretty easy, but since I moved in — I don't know — everything just seems easier to do."

Evie glanced at Jeff, caught his eye and winked, having already suspected that Jeff had used the healer on Linda. Now she was sure.

Jeff busied himself with his food, trying to stay out of the conversation.

Diana offered a warm-up with the coffee pot. "When you told us about your autoimmune problems, I spent a little time with Google. From what I read, autoimmune diseases have almost reached 'epidemic' numbers in recent years. There's even a book on the net with that in its name. And there is a rash of other diseases associated, arthritis being one of them, as you, of course, are aware. No one really seems to know what the base cause is, and again, from what I've read, the medications used don't attack the problem, only the symptoms."

Elizabeth sighed, leaning back and taking a sip of orange juice before answering. "I've almost given up. I've read everything I could find, taken all kinds of supplements and tried a number of different prescription medications that my specialist asked me to. Some help. But some of the more 'powerful' have side effects that are just plain scary. Some of the medications I've flatly refused to even try. Death isn't an acceptable possible 'side effect' as far as I'm concerned," she laughed with an almost macabre sound. "I've wound up with a regimen of daily Plaquenil, with Naproxen Sodium a couple of times per day and Glucosamine, with Prednisone for a week when my autoimmune symptoms flare. They keep everything down to a roar, but today there's no roar. I feel like a human being for the first time since my husband died."

"Well, in that case," Diana said, "you're going to have to come up on a regular basis. If spending the night once makes you feel so much better, maybe a regular regimen of it will do wonders for you," she finished, trying to sound as if she were kidding, but also trying to make sure that Elizabeth felt welcome to come back.

"You really mean that, don't you?" Elizabeth said staring at Diana.

"Absolutely," Diana answered.

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, taking a bite of her strawberry-laden pancake, "I don't know why being here helped," she said, thinking aloud. "If it were altitude, then someone would have noticed that they felt better after taking a long plane flight. I know that the cabin is pressurized on commercial flights, but I think it isn't to sea level. And small planes aren't pressurized at all. Looks like someone would have noticed. Still..."

"Maybe whatever tripped the switch, so to speak, and started this with your immune system had its switch tripped back the other way," Laura offered. "Maybe it's a permanent thing. We certainly hope so."

"Well, it's obvious that the stress of losing my husband brought on my autoimmune problems, but nobody seems to know why my body, and many others, reacts to stress the way it did. Loss of a spouse, a child, a close relative, divorce, even losing your job can sometimes bring on autoimmune problems. But no one has found a way to 'trip the switch' back the other way, as Laura just put it."

"Well, Quinton just went to bat for one of ours," Diana said. "We'll never forget that. Never. You three are part of us any time you want to be."

Virginia smiled at Diana and thanked her when Quinton and Elizabeth did. I'll take that at face value. But we're not part of you — not with Jeff's nice little harem. Quinton has one wife, and that's the way it's going to stay,  Virginia thought even as she smiled and thanked Diana.

-------

As Tate, his wife and sister-in-law were getting ready to leave, Jeff said. "The snowplow company has already been here, so you shouldn't have any problems."

The Sheriff had been looking at the monitor as Jeff switched from camera to camera down the driveway.

Tate shook Jeff's hand. "Thanks, Jeff," Quinton said staring Jeff in the eyes. "I really appreciate it."

Both men knew that Tate wasn't talking about the driveway.

"Anytime," Jeff answered. "And we need to finish that talk, soon."

"Yeah, that should be interesting," Tate laughed as he turned to go.

-------

The closing on the Thompsons' land went off without a hitch.

"You guys said something about traveling?" Jeff asked Ed and Jody Thompson later as they were sitting in the office afterward.

"Yeah, we've been thinking about it. With the farm and ranch, there wasn't a lot of time to do it before. Now that we don't have to depend on it for our livelihood, and with our much-reduced stock, we're going to have a little fun. Carla and Jessica will check on things for us while we're gone, and with most everything automated, there will be little to do unless something goes wrong."

"So when are you leaving and where do you plan to go?" Diana asked.

"Well, we haven't been to many places, and even then, it was years ago. So we're pretty much open to anywhere in the US..."

Jody picked up with, "We've talked about even going to Florida, but we don't want to fly. We want to drive so that we can see the country. I guess we'll wind up buying an RV, now that we have the money, or if Fred has his way, borrowing his. Although we're reluctant to borrow anything that expensive."

"I know that Fred has one. Supposed to be a monster. He left it on the dealer's lot when he came out here. He's never used it. He and Brenda had just bought it when she died. I've been trying to get him to go and get it, or maybe have the dealer see to it getting out here so that he, Carla and Jessica can use it."

"Yeah, he told us that you were, but I guess with the harvest, then the barn being built, they haven't had time to do anything about it. I hate to use someone's brand-new RV without them having used it first, though. Just doesn't seem right," Ed said.

"Fred would give you the shirt off his back," Jeff said. "He's a loyal friend; one that I've had for a number of years. We've neglected them in the last week. I've talked to him a few times on the phone, and I know that Diana has the women. But I haven't seen them other than a few minutes at the hospital Sunday when they came to check on Joyce."

Turning to Diana, he continued, "We still need to get them up for a night or two — and soon."

As their eyes locked, Diana knew that he was talking about using the healer on Carla and Jessica.

"Well, now that Joyce is out of trouble, I don't see why tonight wouldn't be a good time to correct that, if they don't have something else on the agenda."

Reaching over to squeeze her husband's hand, "I'll see to it."

Jody looked again at the certified check in her hand. "This is more money than I've ever dreamed about having. But we're so old that we'll never spend much of it before our time is up."

"Oh, Babe. We're in pretty good health, particularly considering our age. We still have a few years left. Besides, if we do borrow that big RV, we can drive as long as we want and pretty much stop anywhere we want. If a campground isn't handy, there's always the Wal-Mart 'campground, '" he laughed.

"Yeah," Jody answered. "We're always seeing RV's parked at Wal-Mart, and there are certainly plenty of those. We can travel as far as we like, and we can come home when we're tired of traveling. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews have left us with enough property that it seems like we haven't lost anything at all."

"It still seems odd that you left us with our house and eighty acres," Jeff. "We appreciate that more than you can imagine. We had to sell because we really couldn't take care of the farm and ranch anymore, but we didn't want to leave. Nowhere else would ever feel like home after we've been living on that place for so many years. I can't imagine living in the city with neighbors right next to us. We've dreaded it for years knowing that we were getting too old to do the work. It just seems like a miracle or something."

"Ah, there was no sense in taking your house, we just needed the farm and ranch land for Carla and Jessica. This way, everyone wins. They still have you fine people as their neighbors, and you have them. Carla tells me that she will be doing basically the same thing with the land that you were, so little should change except you won't have to work twelve hours a day. Time to have fun."

"And by the way," Diana said, after glancing at her husband, "We would like for you two to spend the night with us so that we can get to know you better. We've started off with a great relationship, and we know that Carla and Jessica think the world of you two, so how about spending the night with us tomorrow night?"

"Well, I don't know; we have..."

"We would be glad to," Jody cut her husband off.

"Excellent. How about around five tomorrow afternoon," Diana said. "We girls can have a gabfest, while you guys do your thing."

"Sounds like it's a done deal," Jeff said, laughing.

"Guess it's time to say, yes Ma'am," Ed laughed. "Now we had better get. Put that check in the bank and go buy something with it," he finished, grinning. "I guess we'll see you folks about five tomorrow."

-------

Sheriff Tate had spent much of the morning at the DA's office, but with the Attorney General's investigators there, and now an avalanche of FBI and IRS as well, he was in the way, at best. It had become a feeding frenzy as the FBI and IRS set up shop. (Criminal income is still taxable.) So far, the FBI, IRS and the Attorney General's people were cooperating and getting along. He wondered how long it would last.

Time to go back to being a small-county Sheriff — out of sight and out of mind of these people. The DA damn sure isn't going to fuck up my campaign now. And after the free publicity that Margie gave me, I suspect that my opponent will drop out of the race. He doesn't have a snowball's chance in hell. Everybody in the county knows me, and they all know I'm straight. One big fucking load off my mind.

Tipping his hat to the security guard at the metal detector, he walked on out whistling under his breath. He didn't notice the slight cringe as the security guard remembered Tate's entrance yesterday. He hoped to never see the Sheriff under those circumstances again.

After Tate got in his Crown Vic, he tossed his hat in the passenger seat. Driving leisurely through town, he checked his watch, deciding to swing by his house and eat lunch with Virginia instead of stopping at a restaurant.

As he approached his small ranch, the horses perked up as they recognized his car. Arching their tails and holding their heads high, they pranced along the fence. On impulse, he turned into the drive that went directly to the barn, instead of the road that led more directly to their house.

Getting out at the barn, he opened the small bin on the outside of the stable where he kept treats for the horses. Giving them a small, hard apple each, he decided to just leave the car where it was and walk the hundred yards to the house. He had used the last of the apples when he gave the horses their treat. He would get more from the house and bring some to the bin after lunch, pick up his car and go back to work. Besides, he needed the exercise after sitting all morning in the DA's office.

Coming in the back door, he got a drink of water in the kitchen, thinking how much better the water tasted at the Matthews. Definitely going to get some down here,  he absently thought as he put the glass in the sink.

Wandering through the house, he didn't hear Virginia. She's probably over at Elizabeth's. Oh, well, I need to pee anyway. I'll do that, then fix myself a sandwich. They're probably working out and won't want to stop right now.

The bedroom door was open and he walked in unsnapping his belt keepers, intending on hanging his gun belt over a chair until he finished lunch.

His world turned and slapped him in the face — hard.



-------

Chapter 89

WEDNESDAY NOON — SEPTEMBER 25

 ... The bedroom door was open and he walked in unsnapping his belt keepers, intending on hanging his gun belt over a chair until he finished lunch.

His world turned and slapped him in the face — hard.

The big Sheriff stumbled to a stop, his breath catching in his throat. His wife, Virginia, and her sister, Elizabeth, were lying on their sides, totally nude. But that wasn't all ... each had her face buried in her sister's crotch. He supposed they hadn't heard him because of the other woman's thighs covering her lover's ears.

"Honey, I'm home," he called loudly in a forced jovial voice.

Nothing. Well, other than some whimpering.

Sniffing, Tate realized that the room reeked of excited female. "Virginia. Elizabeth, we might have a slight problem here," he snarled.

Nothing, well maybe something, he decided as both women tumbled into orgasm. Judging by the thrashing around and the sounds, it was a good one, and that was a disastrous understatement. He hadn't seen Virginia act like that in years — many years.

He called out again, this time with less volume, but they weren't listening; the orgasm seeming to continue forever.

Shit! Maybe this will get your attention.

Taking a magazine off his belt, he ejected two shells into his hand. Putting the magazine back into its holder, he put the bullet end of a shell into each ear. Impromptu ear muffs that any old cop knows about. Walking to the closet, he opened the door, drew his pistol and aimed it at the floor near the wall. Having built the house himself, he knew that the double sills, two by twelves, were under the wall at the back of the closet. Calculating the angle, he sighted at the floor, then looked back over his shoulder at the women. Checking the alignment of his weapon again, he focused on the women and squeezed the trigger.

BAM! The round sliced through the double floor and stopped harmlessly in the sill.

That got their attention.

Both women sat bolt upright, screaming, this time not in orgasm, but in fear.

When they saw Quinton, they both tried to grab the sheet, but they were lying on it. As they scrambled, Tate holstered his Glock and walked back to the chair by the door. Putting the shells back in the magazine, he picked up his keepers from where he had dropped them on the floor and snapped all four of them together from habit, dropped them over the back of the chair, then hung his gun belt with them.

(Note: Belt keepers are strips of leather about three quarters of an inch wide and maybe six inches in length. They have a large male snap on one end and a matching female snap on the other end, or else Velcro tabs. When the gun belt is secured around the waist, it rides on top of the pants belt. Moving around, getting out of a car, etc., will cause the gun belt to ride up. This produces an awkward feeling and looks ridiculous. The keepers {usually four of them} loop around both belts {equally spaced around the body} and snap back to themselves, securing the two belts together. To keep track of the keepers, an officer will frequently snap them together when he/she takes them off, as Tate did when he looped them over the chair back.)

As he turned, the women had managed to get under the sheet, both looking fearfully at him. Chuckling, which scared them even more, he took the few steps to the bed and snatched the sheet away.

"Don't you think it's a little ridiculous to hide yourself under a sheet, Virginia, after all the years that we have been married?"

"I can explain..." Virginia started, inanely.

"Oh, let me guess, now," he said, barely keeping his voice from a snarl. "It must go something like this. Elizabeth and I were just changing clothes after exercising and we tripped and fell over into the bed, and our mouths sort of got stuck to each other's pussy. Fuck, Virginia, how damn dumb do you think I am?

"You," he said, suddenly roaring, pointing his finger. "The most jealous fucking bitch in the world. The bitch who has cut me down to one piece of ass a week for years, and even that one with you faking death while we do it, is fucking her sister, for God sakes. Your sister. Hell, I guess that's better than me walking in here to find you fucking some guy, but all I can think of right now is how damned jealous you are if I'm even in the same fucking room with another woman. How many times have you embarrassed me at luncheons that you know I have to attend? How many, Virginia?

"All the while, you're licking a cunt. I'm almost fifty years old and I have to jerk off in the shower like a teenager, while you get your cookies whenever you want. Now that I know it's going on, I can see how damned dumb I've been.

"Hell, if you had come to me and talked about it, I think I could have lived with it, but instead, you virtually cut me off, then harassed the hell out of me about every woman who got within fifty yards of me. Well, here's a headline for you, you cold-assed bitch. I've never touched another woman. Never,  since we started dating. Yet. But that might not damn be the case from now on.

"And you, Elizabeth, I've loved you from the first time I saw you, but you were too young to date then, only fourteen. Virginia and I got married and I," Tate said, his voice breaking, "loved you with all my heart," he said, looking at his wife. Then as his eyes shifted back to Elizabeth, "When you got married, Elizabeth, it hurt so much I about couldn't breathe when I saw you kiss your husband standing on that stage after you said your vows.

"He became a good friend, though. Virginia and I gave you two the property and we helped you build your house. It hurt like hell when he died, and I did everything I could for you. And I still love you. Yet, the two of you have done this to me."

Picking up his gun belt, he slung it around his waist, fastening it. Forgetting his belt keepers, he turned out of the bedroom, the doorway a blur through the mist in his eyes.

"No," both women screamed in unison. Virginia scrambled from the bed, Elizabeth only a step behind her, their nudity forgotten.

Both women piled into him a few steps down the hall, Virginia throwing her arms around him from behind, trying to stop him from walking out. "No, Baby. No. We've got to talk."

Tate tried to peel her from his back, but she locked her fingers together around his waist and hung on. Elizabeth grabbed his right arm and did the same. "We're not going to let you go like this. Please hear us out. I know that what we did is wrong, but you don't know the whole story. I told Virginia that she was messing up being so jealous of you, but she wouldn't listen. She really does love you, and I ... do too. Please wait and talk to us."

-------

Quinton sat on the couch, a glass of iced tea in his hand. He stared numbly at the tiny ripples in the liquid; the shaking had slackened, but hadn't totally gone away.

Virginia sat beside him, offering him a sandwich that she had just fixed. "I called headquarters and told your secretary that you were taking the rest of the day off, that you were exhausted from being up late last night with the warrant and everything. Oh, Quinton, she's so proud of you that you can hear it in her voice, even on the phone. She said that she would tell the Captain and they would take care of everything.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said, listlessly. "And you're always so fucking jealous of her, even though she's half my age. Why are you all of a sudden thrilled that she's proud of me?"

His sister-in-law reached over and touched his hand as she sat on the other side of him, both women now hastily dressed, although neither had taken the time to put their bras on. "Yes, she should have, Quinton. We need to settle this today, this afternoon. If you love me, then all of us in this room love each other. If we love each other, then we can work this out. Please, Quinton, don't lock us out," she finished, taking the glass of tea from him and setting it on the coffee table before reaching back to hold his hand.

His voice dead, Tate said, "Do you realize how many times I've fantasized about you two? How many men fantasize about their wives, especially after being married as long as we have? But to be truthful it was about both of you together. Mostly things about you two on your hands and knees with your asses near the side of the bed. I would fuck one of you for a while, then the other. Another fantasy was having both of you side by side on your backs. I would fuck Virginia a while until she came a few times, then push my dick up you and come, Elizabeth. I always wanted to fill you with my seed.

"But all I got was my wife becoming a shrew, whining and bitching at me about supposed indiscretions on my part. Supposed. Dammit, I've never looked at another woman, well other than you, Elizabeth. But I've never touched you or even said anything out of the way. Have I?" he snarled.

"No," Elizabeth sighed. "Maybe it would have been better if you had. I don't know."

"How long has this been going on? Ever since Scott died, I assume?"

Both women were quiet, looking at each other as each held one of Quinton's hands.

"We've ... been making love since Elizabeth was thirteen," Virginia said so quietly that Quinton had to strain to hear.

"You've been... Shit."

Tate took a bite of his sandwich, dislodging his wife's hand. He didn't notice what the bread contained. "So, if you two are lesbians, why in the fuck did you marry us in the first place?"

"We're not lesbians," Elizabeth indignantly said. "Well, I, uh ... guess we're bi, or at least for each other. We've never done anything with any other woman."

"Is that right, Virginia?" he asked, turning his gaze to his wife.

"I've never even thought about doing it with anyone else. It's an act of love, Quinton; although, I don't expect you to believe that right now."

"Love, is it? Well, you two were having one hell of an orgasm when I walked into that room and tried to tell you that I was home."

"You did?" Virginia squeaked. "We didn't hear you."

"Well, no shit," he snapped. "You had your thighs clamped so hard on your lover's ears that neither of you could hear, and with all the squealing you two were doing, I guess you weren't paying much attention to anything else other than the pussy in your face and your own orgasm."

"You said something to us, before you fired your pistol?" Elizabeth asked, again.

"Well, hell yeah. 'Honey, I'm home, ' didn't do it. So I told the two of you that we might have a problem. Hell, you were too busy bucking and screaming to hear me. So I made a louder racket. That got your attention," he finished, grinning despite himself.

"You two scrambling for that sheet was about the dumbest thing I've ever seen. About as fucking dumb as making my life a living hell by becoming a jealous shrew," he said, taking another bite and glowering at his wife.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

"'Honey, I'm sorry, '" he mimicked. "Fuck, Virginia, that isn't going to cut it. You treat me like shit for five fucking years, and then say you're sorry. Then tonight you'll lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling while I try to get my rocks off in a totally unresponsive pussy. It ain't going to happen, Baby."

"Then you're going to ... divorce me?"

"Hell, no," Tate said turning his stare totally upon her. "We spent too many years building up what we have, the house, our savings, the ranch, the horses — everything. Damned if I'm going to divorce you and become a pauper. And you put just as much time as I have into our finances. I'm not leaving this house, and I wouldn't expect you to. I'll move into one of the other bedrooms. We can live our separate lives. But I'll tell you now. From now on, my life is going to include pussy. There are plenty of women out there who will spread their legs for me just because I'm the top cop around here — if for no other reason. I've got a lot of catching up to do."

Taking another bite of sandwich, he reached for his tea, dislodging Elizabeth's hand. After taking a gulp, he put the glass back. Elizabeth put her hand back.

The women silently cried while Quinton thought, then, "Neither of your girls has dated, have they Elizabeth?"

"Well, Rachel has a couple times, but Cindy hasn't. But they've been home-schooled. They haven't had a chance to meet many boys," she finished, a bit lamely in Quinton's opinion.

"Bullshit. You're fucking them, too, aren't you?" he said to both women.

"No," they said in unison.

"'No, ' my ass. Both of you are blushing, and I can tell that you're lying. So when did it start?"

"No, Quinton. It didn't. We have never made love with them, we..."

"Dammit, tell me the fucking truth. They're lezzies just like you two, aren't they?"

"We are not lesbians, Quinton. We may be a lot of things, but we're not queer. I swear it," Virginia said.

"Then how come it feels like both of you are lying when I ask if you have done anything with the girls?"

"Because..." Elizabeth sighed. "They sleep with me. Every since Scott died, we've slept together. At first — the first few nights — it was just because we were so miserable and we fell asleep while we were crying together on the bed. After a while, it just seemed natural. That big bed was so lonesome all by myself. We just snuggled together and cried ourselves to sleep for weeks after he died. Nobody wanted to end it."

"Well, if it was just innocently sleeping together, then why does it feel like you're lying about the other?"

The two women looked at each other. "You can't lie to him," Virginia said. "You know that. Nobody can."

"Well, you did, for years," Quinton snapped.

"No, I didn't. You just never asked, and I guess I just covered up my feelings by being ... aggressive with you. Constantly keeping you on the defensive about other women. It ... got out of hand. But I was so afraid that you would find out. I guess with us always having done it with each other, then when Scott died, you just didn't notice when we ... uh, did it more. But, Quinton, Elizabeth was so lonely. She hurt so badly. We just made love more often to make the feeling go away for a little while. We never meant to hurt you. I don't know why I acted that way toward you," she finished, her crying picking up again.

Tate finished the last bites of his sandwich, then cupped his face in his hand, wiping downward as if to wipe something away.

"How in the fuck did we get to this point?" he asked aloud, but without really addressing anyone.

Turning to his wife: "Why in the fuck did you have to ... hell, cut me off isn't exactly right, but it is close enough? What the fuck did I do to make your jealousy multiply into what it has become?"

"Quinton, it's hard to explain..."

"Well, you better get started on it. The more I think about all the sex you've had while all I had was standing in the shower and beating off, the madder I become. This is fucking bullshit," Virginia.

"Quinton, I..."

"'Quinton, I, ' my ass. You're going to lie. I can feel it."

Virginia and Elizabeth both sobbed for a few minutes while Tate picked up his tea and finished it. After a little while, "Well?"

Virginia grabbed Quinton's upper arm and hugged herself to the big man. "I don't know if I can make sense with this or not. I ... promise I'm not lying. I just don't know ... how to say it."

"Well, Heaven forbid you should start at the beginning and use logic. I know that logic is a bit farfetched for a woman," he said, the sarcasm strong in his voice.

"Quinton, give her a chance. We've talked about this before — about her jealousy. I didn't know that she was doing that to you in bed," Elizabeth said, trying to look at her sister past Tate.

"I didn't mean to," Virginia whispered, at first so quietly that Tate had to strain to hear, yet again. "Elizabeth was just so destroyed when Scott died. I mean, we thought the leukemia was gone. It had been in remission for so long, then when it came back and just ... took his life in a week. Well ... I ... Oh, shit, Quinton, I don't know how to say it to make you believe it."

Virginia looked desperately at Elizabeth for a moment, then, "I love her so much. So much. We didn't grow up like a lot of sisters. We never really fought as kids, then one day when she was thirteen ... It just happened. The sex was just a culmination, I guess you would say, of the love that we had always felt for each other. But, I fell in love with you a little later, and you married me when I was nineteen and Elizabeth was fifteen. Then she eventually found Scott."

Elizabeth passed Virginia another tissue, the house quiet as a tomb as they waited for her to blow her nose. "We continued to make love when we could. Sometimes it was months apart, but we never stopped loving our men. Then, when Scott died, she ... didn't have a man anymore. I just ... felt guilty, I guess, because my man was still alive, but she didn't have a man to make love to her."

Virginia tried to kiss Tate, but he wouldn't let her.

"I ... when you made love to me the first time a couple of days after the funeral, I felt so... guilty. It just got worse after that. Every time you would do anything sexual to me — nurse my breasts; even kiss me — I would think about Elizabeth and that she would never have those things again. I felt guilty,  Quinton."

As Tate started to open his mouth to say something — probably indignantly — Virginia went hurriedly on. "I know. I know. It doesn't make sense. But that's the way it was. I just couldn't make love to you, because she couldn't have her man any longer."

Virginia broke down sobbing, and Elizabeth quickly got up, reseating herself by her sister, taking Virginia in her arms.

Elizabeth looked over the sobbing Virginia's shoulder at Quinton. "I didn't know that. I swear to you that I didn't. Oh, my gosh. I've ruined your marriage, plus made your life miserable for the last five years. And I didn't know."

"Well, shit," Tate said, leaning forward and putting his face in his hands again. "Well, shit."

-------

Jeff had dropped the snowplow from the big pickup, then taken the spreader off and emptied the sand and salt. When he got back in the house, everyone was ready to go.

"I don't have much," Alesha said, almost apologetically. Jeff wasn't sure whether she worried about not having much to move, or was ashamed that she had so little.

Diana hugged her for a second. "Don't be silly. This place has a full basement that you could play a football game in with room for a lot of spectators. There are tons of storage rooms and shelving. All your things will have a place to keep them safe until you have a house of your own. And there is absolutely no hurry. You should plan on living here for an extended period of time."

"But I feel..."

"Hush," Diana said, taking Alesha's cheeks in her gentle hands. "You saved Joyce. There is no more that needs saying."

"Thank you," Alesha quietly said. "There are a few things that I want to keep. Most of the furniture — such as it is — was in the house when I moved in. Well, 'moved in' is an overstatement; more like dropped a couple of plastic bags with my clothes and personal items in them on the bed. But I managed to buy a used dresser and a chair for the living room, plus some dishes and things."

"As little or as much as you want," Jeff said. "I know that you said you didn't even have enough to fill my pickup, so we nixed the idea of a moving company."

Alesha turned to Joyce. "Jesse called me this morning and said that he had been sent to take down the evidence tape at my house, now that the investigation is over. He said, uh ... well, that you might not want to go inside. There is a lot of ... your blood on the floor. He said that the evidence technicians had put a clear plastic drop cloth over it so that it wouldn't be tracked throughout the house. But, still, he thought that it wouldn't be very good for you to see all of..."

"No," Joyce answered, unconsciously standing straighter. "I'm a deputy. I've seen people die at accident scenes — blood, lots of it — many times..."

Diana took her hand. "Baby. Maybe Deputy Goodman is right. Why don't you just sit in the SUV? It won't take long for us to load Alesha's stuff. That's one traumatic experience that you don't have to have."

Joyce cupped Diana's cheek in her hand. "Thanks. Everyone is trying to think of me. I know that there was a lot of blood. I've seen it many times before — well, not mine, but that much blood from other people. I'll be all right."

Helen started to add her comments, but was forestalled by Joyce's hand slightly raised. "Wait, everyone. This is something I have to do. Yeah, I almost died there. If it weren't for the actions of several people, I would have."

Putting her free arm around Jeff, Joyce continued, "From what your wives have told me, I know that you have been in combat. So you have to know what I mean," she finished, looking up at him for a moment. Then turning back to the others, she said, "My training officer told me a lot of things. I'll admit that sometimes I thought he was full of it. But the longer I'm with the department, the more I've come to respect him for what he was trying to teach me, and more and more of the things that I doubted are now coming true.

"One of the things he said, more than once, was that when I got hurt. Not if I were hurt, but when I got hurt, that as soon as I made it back to work, I should go look at the place where I had my problem. But the first thing to do, even before then, was to volunteer for the first call I possibly could. If I didn't get a call right away, that I should take the next one that I could get to easily — no matter what type of call it was.

"If I had gotten hurt on a domestic, then it would be even better if the first call I went on was a domestic, but to go on something. Get my feet wet; get back into it. I have already asked the Sheriff to let me come back to work, but he won't. He knows precisely why I want to go back, but he says that the two-week rule is there for a reason, and even he would obey it if he were involved in a deadly force incident. Says that he has already obeyed the rule once, and would again, even as Sheriff, if he has to take someone's life again.

"Sheriff Tate has tried to get me to go to counseling, but I refused. I'm not nuts over this. The SOB needed killing. I haven't had second thoughts over it. Well, other than I just regret that Crawford didn't stick his dumb head out in the clear so I could have shot him a little earlier. That way, Alesha wouldn't have had to go through the trauma of that big gun going off next to her ear."

Diana looked from her husband to Joyce, refusing to read the look on Jeff's face. "Still, this is going to be traumatic for..."

Jeff cleared his throat and looked at her. "She needs to, Baby. She'll be fine."

"All right," Diana hissed. "I'm outvoted. I haven't been in combat," she said, looking hard at her husband. Turning her eyes to lock on Joyce's, "and I haven't been in a shootout with a fool with a .44 Magnum, but I still don't want my sister-wife to do this. But if that's the way it's going to be, we'll be there with her..."

Jeff cleared his throat.

"She's got to do it by herself?" Diana asked, astonished.

"No," Jeff quietly said. "But let's let her decide how she wants to walk through that door."

"Macho," Diana sighed. "Macho. I thought that just applied to men."

Joyce winked at Jeff, then followed the women toward the vehicles.

-------

Later, as they pulled into Alesha's yard, there was a Sheriff's patrol car already sitting there. As they got out of their vehicles, Deputy Goodman got out of his vehicle.

Joyce quickly walked past everyone to confer with Jesse for a moment. Together, they turned toward the house. As Diana took a step, Jeff reached out and took her hand, restraining her.

"But she's going to be my sister-wife. I'm going to be her Queen Bitch. I need to be there with her."

"We all want to be," Jeff quietly answered as they watched the two walk up on the porch and Jesse defer to Joyce as they reached the door. She, seemingly casually, opened the door and went in without hesitation, the door closing behind as Jesse followed.

Diana turned and buried her face in her husband's chest as the other wives gathered around. "It's better this way. It's almost routine for them now. They're just doing a job together," Jeff said, but his voice wasn't too steady.

After a few minutes, the door opened and Joyce yelled out the front. "Come on guys, let's get Alesha's things. This place smells like stale blood."



-------

Chapter 90


WEDNESDAY NOON — SEPTEMBER 25

"Are you okay?" Diana asked, her look intense, as soon as she was in the house.

Joyce hugged her. "I love you. I love all of you," she said looking around just before Caitlin enfolded her in her arms.

After a short hug, Joyce pushed back, no tears, nothing. "Yeah, it's a bit ... well... different to realize that I'm walking on my dried blood under this drop cloth," she said, looking down at the floor and sliding her foot back and forth to bunch up the plastic a little. "And that stain over there," she said indicating the wall, "is where a good part of Crawford's brains wound up when my round went through his stupid head. But this place certainly isn't as gross as some I've seen, and heck, his body is long gone."

Alesha motioned to the corner of the couch. The end of a cinder block was just visible where a leg should be. "I got the couch down the road a little way, and a guy helped me get it on top of my car. I eased home with the thing balanced on top. Then Crawford helped me get it in the house later that day. It had a leg missing, and was pretty beaten up, but I found a concrete block out back, and ... almost got Joyce killed with it," she finished, her voice choking.

"Bullshit," Joyce interrupted. "You didn't do a damned thing wrong. You're to be admired for what you've done to survive. Now let's get your things and go get your check."

-------

The others went on into town to wait as Jeff and Alesha Turcott drove into the lot of the used car dealer in Jeff's truck. Joyce had driven Alesha's car after Jeff had advised Alesha not to drive it back to the lot in case Lennie tried to block it in and keep it away from her. Personally, Jeff had rather just buy her another car and save the hassle, but he could certainly understand righteous indignation. Alesha was pissed.

Alesha had talked with Lennie twice on the phone, but each time, he had said that he owed her nothing, but had put her two-week salary toward what she owed on the car she had bought from him. When she insisted that she had paid the full amount, already, he had just laughed and hung up on her.

"Look, we can just have Fontaine sue him..." Jeff had argued.

"No. I want to see him face to face. He cheats everybody he fires like this. He always keeps their last check. The son-of-a-bitch isn't going to intimidate me. I've been shit on enough. If you don't go with me, then I'll go by myself. I know that Jesse might lose his job if he went, because Lennie could just say that Jesse intimidated him into paying me something he didn't owe me — that he wouldn't have done it if the deputy hadn't been there. But that asshole is not going to steal my money without a fight."

Jeff had sighed. "All right. I'll go with you, but let's do it this way..."

-------

Turcott stormed into Lennie's office, Jeff barely managing to get in behind her before she slammed the door.

Jeff stepped over and set a recorder on Lennie's desk. "Just so you don't change things around from the way they actually happen," Jeff said, glaring at the fat man behind the desk. "The recorder is on."

"I want my paycheck?" Alesha interrupted. "You steal the last check from everybody around here that you decide to fire. I was in the hospital. I couldn't come to work. Fire me, you can, but you're not going to cheat me out of my pay. My rent is past due..."

"Ralph has already kicked your ass out. Or will when he sees you."

"Yeah, I figured that your suck buddy would do that, so I've been by and gotten my things. And I didn't get one damn thing that I didn't carry into that house. So don't you or your buddy start any shit about it."

"You don't have a check. I took the money from your last two week's salary and applied it to the car you were buying from me. No sense me taking a loss over your problems. Hell, they told me you couldn't hear. You seem to be doing okay, now."

"My physical problems are none of your damn business. I came to get my check. And you know that I paid for that car."

"My records say you haven't, and they're what count."

"Not necessarily," Jeff finally said, putting a copy of Alesha's Bill of Sale and a copy of the title on Lennie's desk. Those are copies, in case you decide to tear them up or something. We took the time to stop on the way to take care of that little detail. You'll note that the Bill of Sale is stamped Paid In Full with your signature, along with Ms. Turcott's, plus your shop foreman as a witness. Also the title is free and clear with no liens against the vehicle.

"I'm here as ... well, just call me a mediator. Alesha has told me of your schemes about federal and state income tax as well as FICA withholdings for your employees. Seems like there's a good chance that you're cutting your people a lot more than you are actually turning in to the government. With twelve employees — all afraid of losing their jobs if they rock the boat — you set aside a tidy little sum in a year's time. Your turnover rate is pretty high, to use the mildest terms, and you seem to always hold their last check for something they owe you for. Between that big body shop and your used car business, plus a few 'sidelines, ' you probably turn a very nice profit.

"I've already talked to my lawyer and he, in the spirit, of being fair, suggested that Alesha talk to you in person and bring the Bill of Sale, in case you might have forgotten that the transaction was complete. Or maybe that 'transaction' was supposed to include the sex you were trying to coerce out of her, before she got her car and check?"

Lennie started to say something when Jeff continued, "Your ball game, Mr. Car Dealer. We don't want a penny that isn't owed to her. Not one. But your argument about her still owing for the car is invalidated by the Bill of Sale right in front of you. Now, you can argue about the paycheck. I have no way to prove that, but an audit of your records by the IRS will eventually dig up the truth, and probably a lot more about the truth if Ms. Turcott is correct. As best I remember hearing on the news, the IRS pays a significant percentage of any moneys collected. Pays to the person turning in the perpetrator, that is. Ms. Turcott might just come out of this with a little nest egg.

"Your choice. Might want to contact your attorney. We're leaving." Jeff put a slip of paper down on Lennie's desk. "Here's an address that you can mail her check to, if you decide that you might have been in error and do owe her a full two-week check, after all. It's my attorney's address. Just address the letter to Ms. Turcott at his office. They will get it to her."

Jeff picked up the recorder — still on — told Turcott, "Let's go." Stepping through the door behind Alesha, he closed the door, not really hard, but hard enough to sound aloud. Turning the recorder off and dropping it into his pocket, he stepped back through the door, closing it behind him. Before Lennie could even blink, Jeff reached across his desk and grabbed him by the shirt, jerking him to his feet.

After a short, whispered conversation into Lennie's ear while Jeff concentrated with all his faculties, he slammed Lennie back into his seat, walked calmly through the door, closing it quietly behind him, then on out into the lot with Alesha walking beside him.

A wet spot slowly formed under Lennie's spreading ass.

"What was that about?" Alesha asked, a puzzled expression on her face as they walked toward Jeff's truck.

"Oh, I forgot to pick up the copies of the Bill of Sale and the title," the tall man said, nonchalantly, as he handed them to her. Then in the same breath, "Let's meet up with my wives and get a bite of lunch. I'm starved."

"You're always starved," Turcott said, eyeing him suspiciously, but unable to notice anything wrong.

-------

Quinton Tate, his wife, Virginia, and sister-in-law, Elizabeth, had talked for a while. Well, more accurately, the women had talked while the Sheriff sat slumped on the couch between them.

Finally, "Alright, I've got a lot to assimilate into my tired old brain. But the both of you are still dancing around what I asked about your daughters. Elizabeth, you felt like you were lying to me when I asked if you were having sex with them, but..."

Elizabeth had returned to the other side of Quinton, and each of the women had continued to hold one of his hands as they had talked — and cried. Elizabeth cleared her throat, but hesitated. "I ... guess what you're picking up on is that I do feel a little bit guilty. The girls and I still sleep together, and we do sleep ... nude. But all we've done is cuddle."

She sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. "Cindy has had two dates. Only two and she's eighteen. And Rachel hasn't had any. Cindy made her dates bring her home early both times when they tried to feel her up. Rachel flatly refuses to consider dating."

"They're lesbians," Quinton interjected. "I've known them all my life. Hell, they feel like my daughters, but I never picked up on that..."

"They're not lesbians," Elizabeth interjected. "There are not any lesbians in my family — or yours," she added. "They just ... have a problem."

"And..." Tate said.

"And ... I don't want to talk about it right now. But I did not lie to you. My daughters and I have not made love. We've held each other, and after Scott died, we spent a lot of time holding each other and crying ourselves to sleep, but I've never touched them in that way. Never."

"Something still seems wrong when you talk about it." Sighing, "I don't want to discuss this any more right now, though."

Both women tried to snuggle with him, but he gently shrugged them off. "I'm going to put on some work clothes and catch up on a couple of things that I've been putting off around the barn."

"Baby, we don't want you to be alone right now," Virginia said, again trying to kiss her husband.

"I need to think, and I do that best when I'm doing something with my hands," he said, getting up.

Neither woman wanted to give up trying to reason with him, but both also knew that it was useless trying to change his mind once it was made up. He went back to the bedroom, removed his badge, collar brass and name tag from his shirt, putting them in the little antique cup he kept them in on the dresser. Tossing his shirt and pants into the hamper, he slipped on a shirt and jeans, pulled on a pair of work boots and headed for the barn.

All the horses came into the barn trying to entice him into giving them another treat, but when he got his equipment belt, hammer and crowbar from the shop, they gave up and went back into the pasture. He spent a couple of hours tightening a sagging gate and replacing some rotten boards on the back of the barn, his mind far from the menial tasks his hands automatically performed. Maybe a little too far. As he drove the last nail, he hit the wrong nail, namely the one on his left thumb.

"Shit!" he yelled out, then stuck the thumb into his mouth for a second, sucking on it. Looking at the thumb a moment later, he decided that a Band-Aid would probably be a good idea. There was a little blood leaking from around both sides of the nail, but the pain had eased off to an annoying throbbing. Restarting the nail, this time far more carefully, he drove it in with three hard licks of the hammer.

Well, that damn sure got my attention off the shit that's happened this afternoon. Teach my dumb ass to pay attention to what I'm doing instead of feeling sorry for myself.

After putting his tools up, he walked on back to the house. Inside, he called out to the women, who were in the kitchen. "I'm going to take a nap."

Virginia stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway. "Are you okay? Baby, I..."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just going to take a nap. Don't make something major out of it," he said crossly, going on down the hall.

In the bathroom, he washed his hands, poured alcohol on his thumb, then put an antibiotic salve around the edges of the nail where it continued to bleed a little. Choosing a band aide that seemed about the right size, he put it on, pulling it gently tight against the little injury. Damn, that thing is sore, already. How fucking dumb can you be? When the Captain sees that, he's gonna have to know what happened. As soon as I tell him, he'll razz my ass. I'll be hearing jokes about it all day. Grinning, and not even realizing it, he walked over to the bed, kicked his boots off and fell on his back, sighing.

-------

Virginia opened the oven door a little and pushed the tines of a carving fork into the roast that was almost done.

"Oh, that smells heavenly," Elizabeth said. "Do you suppose he'll even notice that you're having his favorite dinner?"

"It's just about there," Virginia said closing the oven door. "Roast, baby carrots, creamed potatoes and gravy, English peas, with rolls and honey. And I'm making enough to fill even Quinton up — I hope. Of course," she added, "I would be very pleased if I were wrong and he ate it all. I'm more worried that he won't have an appetite at all."

Putting the cooking fork in the sink, she turned to her sister. "Now what's this about being in love with my husband? I knew you loved him, but I didn't know that you were in love with him. I thought you were madly in love with your husband. You always acted like it."

Elizabeth, sitting on a stool a few feet away, took a sip of her coffee and put the cup down on the counter. "Sis, I ... Okay, here it is, for bad or worse. I was madly in love with Quinton from the first time I saw him when you brought him in to introduce him to our parents. But I was just a kid — at least to him. I didn't stand a chance, and even if I had, it wasn't long until you came in all bubbly from a date and told me how much you were in love with him."

Virginia got a coke out of the fridge and motioned to ask if Elizabeth wanted one. She shook her head no. "I'll stick with my coffee."

Virginia opened the soft drink and pulled another bar stool near her sister. "I knew you had a crush on him. Well, I thought it was a crush, and it's been obvious that you thought the world of him all through the years, but I never thought anything about it."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Elizabeth said, reaching out and taking her sister's hand for a moment. "I never said anything to Quinton, and I did love my husband. I think we were great for each other. I was proud to bear those two fine girls for him, and we had a great sex life, but I, uh ... I don't know how to say this without sounding like I'm disrespecting my husband, or disrespecting you, but there have been a lot of times that I've ... fantasized that the person, uh ... fucking me, was Quinton."

Elizabeth's face flushed red as she reached for her cup, but she put it back without taking a sip. "This all sounds so weird just sitting here talking about it, but I guess I took second best. I knew I couldn't have Quinton, and well, Scott came along. He was good looking; he loved me and I loved him. I just never fell head over heels in love with him. But we were happy. You know that. And he never suspected, because most of the time, I wouldn't let myself think about it."

Elizabeth sighed, her eyes filling. "But I miss Scott so much. And I feel guilty because I couldn't give him all my heart. No matter how much I tried, Quinton was still in there."

"Why didn't you say something to me about it?"

Elizabeth's head snapped up and she locked eyes with her sister. "My dear, dear sister. You have always been just a wee bit jealous of your husband. Lately that wee bit has, shall we say, expanded. I blurted it out a little while ago when we were all upset, and the two of us were trying to keep Quinton from walking out that door. Heck, as soon as I said it, I cringed, half expecting you to go off."

"Oh, shit. Have I been that bad?"

"No," Elizabeth giggled, "you've been worse."

They sat for a while in silence, Virginia wondering how she had become a shrew, and Elizabeth wondering if she had stepped across the line.

"So you really do love my husband? Uh, you're in love with him?"

"So damn bad that it hurts," Elizabeth sighed.

"Oh, crap," Virginia said.

"About that," Elizabeth agreed.

After a long moment, Elizabeth continued, "So tell me again the 'logic' behind cutting your husband off after Scott died."

Virginia got up and got a roll of paper towels, tore one off and wiped her eyes. Sitting back down, "I guess I should have gone to a psychiatrist or someone. I knew that I wasn't treating my husband right, and I knew that I was screwed up. But I just couldn't seem to get over feeling guilty. I mean; you know how much I love you. And your husband was dead. I just couldn't think that you would ever decide on another man. It never crossed my mind that you would want another husband. And here I was with Quinton. It just didn't seem right for me to be enjoying sex with my husband when you didn't have a husband to do it with. Heck, I know it sounds crazy..."

"Survivor's guilt," Elizabeth broke in. "Well, survivor's guilt with a twist, I guess."

Virginia paused, then quietly, "Oh, crap. I've fucked up my marriage, and now I've found out that my sister is in love with my husband, to boot. Regardless of what he says about not divorcing me, he's scaring me to death. He's got a sense of ... fairness about him in anything he does. Anything. He'll view what's happened using the same set of balances. And as they say, I'm going to come up wanting. He did everything right, even put up with my ... the way I've treated him both in bed and being so jealous of him. All the while, you and I were making love."

Virginia's hand shook as she absently tried to pick up her drink. Realizing that she was going to spill it, she quickly set it down. "If he walks out of that bedroom and sleeps in the guest room, he'll never come back to me. I've hurt his pride. I've become a screwed-up, jealous bitch to the finest man in the world."

"Maybe it isn't that bad," Elizabeth said, taking her sister's hand.

"Bullshit," Virginia said, taking a breath and standing. "Let's get dinner on the table."

"What are you going to do? What are we going to do?" Elizabeth said.

Virginia stopped, then turned toward her sister, a strange look on her face. "We're going to see Diana. You and I are going to see Diana."

"What? Why? I thought you didn't even like her very much..."

"Jeff Matthews has six or seven wives. I'm not sure if his daughter is part of it or not, and that nurse and Deputy Cramer are awfully close to them, also. I'm not sure just how close. But Diana Matthews is ... what did Laura say? I heard it, but didn't pay much attention at the time. I was too damn busy being jealous of Cramer. Queen something-or-other. Whatever it was, Diana's the boss around there. And all those women seem to get along just fine. I'm not going to lose my husband if there's any way on earth for me to stop it. I love him too much to just give up."

Virginia checked the roast again, this time reaching for her oven mitt. "Let's get Quinton up and feed him, then you and I are going for a drive."

Quinton eased back from the kitchen door, then went quickly down the hall in his stocking feet. Flopping down on the bed, he waited, wondering.

-------

"Here, have a cup of coffee, Baby," Virginia said as Quinton started to get up from the table after their meal.

"Well, I'm..."

"We'll only be a minute getting the rest of the food put away," Virginia interrupted. "Then we want you to go for a drive with us."

"I don't want to go anywhere," Tate said, wondering when he had gotten included in the visit.

"We've got to go somewhere, and we're not leaving you here by yourself to brood."

Well, I've got plenty of damn reason to brood,  Quinton thought, but before he could voice it, Virginia continued.

"Yeah, we know that you have reason," she said, almost as if she could read his mind, "but please do this for us. I promise that you won't be sorry."

"So, where are we going? Surely you're not going shopping?" Tate said just to fuck with them.

"We'll tell you when we're in the car. Just trust us, please."

"All right. I'll go get the 'Vick. I left it down at the barn when I came home and..."

He left out "caught you fucking your sister," but he might as well have said it aloud.

"Uh, let's use the Explorer," Elizabeth tried to brightly say.

He didn't want to carry the ruse of him not knowing where they were going far enough to drive a car up the mountain in snow, even if it were only four inches or so. That seemingly near-vertical driveway — at least in places — gave even the experienced Sheriff pause. He just grinned and said, "Okay. We'll do that."

Virginia put the leftover roast in a container. "Yes, you've figured it out. We're going to see the Matthews. I want to talk to Diana. Now, don't start asking questions. I don't know the answers. So, let's not fuss."

Astonishing both women, he just grinned. "Okay, let me get my billfold and keys. I'll be ready when you are."

When he was out of earshot, Virginia looked at her sister. "I expected him to raise hell, maybe flat out refuse to go. He's got to know that I want to ask Diana's advice about what's happened."

"Well, don't look that gift horse in the mouth. You didn't want to leave him here alone. Let's get moving before he changes his mind."

-------

A little earlier, a few miles away, Carla and Jessica stood in their doorway looking up the driveway.

"If he doesn't get back soon, we're going to be late," Jessica fretted. "Did he tell you how far he was going?"

"Yeah, he said five miles."

Jessica glanced at her mother. "He's added distance too quickly. I've read where you aren't supposed to add more than a mile per week when you first start running. He's only been doing this for a couple of weeks and he's already up to five miles. He's..." She had started to say that he was too old to do that, but stopped, mentally chastising herself, for this was the man she was in love with.

"He's lost so much weight that it scaring me, too," Carla said. "But, wow, does he look good. If he isn't out trying to help them with the barns, he's working out or running."

"Yeah, barns. That's something else that we need to thank them for. Oh, Mama, I can't believe how lucky we've become. We came from losing everything to money in the bank, lots more money hidden in the pantry, a big, beautiful barn that's going to be so automated that we'll hardly have to touch anything. Then they start building a horse barn. Riding stables, Dave said."

"Diana's idea, according to Dave. But she says it was Mr. Wainwright's. That the high-end homes will have rich people who will want to board their horses with us, and will want to buy horses from us."

Jessica pushed the door open a little wider. "Yeah, I know. Do you suppose that people will really pay the rates that Dave suggested? I mean, I know that there are going to be rich people here, well, the ones who are supposedly going to buy the houses. But it still seems unreal that someone would pay that much to board their horses and have a place to ride."

"Heck, I'm just a country girl like you. Damned if I know. But Dave says that's one of the reasons for the decorative block and all the finery that the architect's drawing shows for the riding stables. Things have to look beautiful so they will think they're getting their money's worth ... Darn it. I wish he would come on."

As if on cue, Fred topped the hill, and seeing them, waved as he started down.

"Damn, he looks good," Carla thought aloud.

"Yeah," Jessica said. "But we've done everything but rape him. All he will do is hold us. When I went to the bathroom last night and walked back into the room, it smelled like musk — ours."

Carla looked at her daughter standing so close beside her. "I never thought I'd be sharing a man, but you and I have a bond that's unique, I think..."

"Yeah, that big hunk coming down the driveway," Jessica deliberately misinterpreted.

Carla bumped her daughter with her hip. "Yeah, that bond as well. But it looks like he's going to make us wait until he's past some of his grief for his wife, even though he says that she has 'told' him to get on with his life. Damn, I wish he would listen to her."

"Mom, nobody has ever affected me like Fred does. Logically, I shouldn't even be attracted to him. I know that, but it doesn't do one bit of good. My fuck buddy used to have to play with my pussy forever to get me wet. He," she said, nodding her head at the approaching retired detective, "can kiss me for thirty seconds and my pussy drools. I'm having orgasms in my dreams just snuggled in his arms at night. I want him to suck my titties so bad that it hurts. He loves us Mom; I know he does..."

" ... And he hurts for her," Carla broke in. "I understand that. I still hurt for your dad, but I've had two years to get used to the pain. He's only had a few weeks. Not much time at all."

Fred slowed his fast jog to a walk about a hundred yards from the house, his breathing not labored at all as he watched the two pretty women standing in the doorway. Damn, Brenda, they're beautiful. But I can't see what the hell they see in me.

"Time to quit talking to me, my darling, and get on with your life. You're becoming a young man again. Time to take back up young man things."

I miss making love to you. It should have been me instead of you.

"Yeah, and if frogs could fly ... Now go get your women and go see Jeff and Diana."

Fred walked up on the porch and grabbed both women in a hug.

"You're about to run us late." Carla popped him in the belly with the back of her hand. "Oh," she said, rubbing her hand. "That's like hitting a board."

"Yeah, yeah. Flattery and all that," he said, laughing and slinging the protesting woman over his shoulder. Grabbing Jessica with the other hand and pulling her close, he squatted a little to make sure that Carla cleared the door, then went on into the house.

"Put me down," Carla tried to say indignantly, but she spoiled it by giggling.

"Nope. I need a shower and you're going to wash my back."

"Oh, you need a shower all right," she laughed, her nose not that far from his wet armpit, but she suddenly got quiet as the impact of his pheromones fully hit her. "Oh, shit," she quietly said.

Jessica was already stripping her clothes off as she closely followed Fred and her mother, even though both women had just bathed.

"I'll wash your front while Mom washes your back."

Uh oh,  Fred thought.



-------

Chapter 91

WEDNESDAY EVENING — SEPTEMBER 25

Just as they were finishing supper, the phone rang. "It's for you, Mom," Arlene said handing the phone to Diana.

The conversation was short. When she hung up, she just commented that the Tates were coming by.

Jeff raised an eyebrow, but she just shook her head, "I have no idea."

The men were soon shooed out of the kitchen. "But I thought you said we were going to have chocolate cake for dessert," Jeff interjected.

"Oh, you'll get your cake. You won't starve," Laura said, laughing. "But we need to have some girl talk. You guys go tell some lies. We'll bring your cake a little later."

In the living room Dave, Jeff and Fred picked out their favorite chairs. As soon as they were seated, Jeff got back up. "It's a little cool in here. I'm going to start us a fire."

"Or you could just turn up the thermostat a little," Fred joked.

"Not a chance," Jeff laughed. "I like to sit, watch the flames and think."

"Think about what?" Fred laughed, nodding in the general direction of the kitchen. "Don't answer that. I don't think I want to know."

"I wasn't talking about pussy, Smartass," Jeff laughed looking back over his shoulder as he arranged the wood in the big fireplace. "There are a few other things to think about. I've been thinking about a try at another invention, but I've been so busy that I can't seem to get started on it. I've got things mapped out in my mind a little. But, let's not talk about that. What's been happening on the farm? How is the construction coming?" Dave had briefed Jeff practically every day, but he wanted to hear it from Fred's viewpoint.

"Well, I guess that Dave told you the barn was just about done. The tractor garage — I refuse to call it a shed — is completed. Jeff, it scares me to think how much it cost, not to say anything about the barn itself. As tall as some of the equipment is, the bay doors on that thing are huge, and so is the building itself. You're really going to have to come see it. It's even heated and air-conditioned. There are lifts for everything, and all the equipment a modern garage could ever have. It isn't just a place to store the equipment. Hell, I'll bet there isn't another like it in the state."

"Well, good. Carla and Jessica deserve it."

"Oh, hell, I know that you know all about it, and have approved everything. But it's darn nice of you to do that for them. They're ecstatic over the barn, and the stables are coming along, too. If they look half as good as the architect's drawing, they're going to be the best around, bar none."

"Well, you're part of it, too. You're part of the corporation."

"Jeff, I know you said that before, but..."

"Hush. Let's change the subject. How are you and the women getting along? By the way they're acting, damn good, I'd say."

Fred hesitated for a moment.

"We're all family. Remember?"

Fred grinned back. "Well, whatever the hell you did to me that night, must be it. I mean, look at me. No diet in the world would make me lose weight this fast, and I've managed to jog through five miles yesterday and today. Shit, we had to go buy me more jeans and tee-shirts yesterday. I'm afraid to buy any more good clothes, because my body is changing so fast. My suit that I've only worn twice just hangs on me, but Carla found a tailor who said he could fix it. I've exercised and worked out, but not enough for the results I've gotten."

"There will be other results that you'll like, too," Jeff grinned.

"Amen to that," Dave sniggered. "Only problem is that Evie keeps bugging me about going ahead and marrying Linda. She claims she needs the help," he laughed. "And I'm not talking about cleaning the apartment."

"Well, why don't you?" Jeff said as they pushed their seats nearer the fire.

"I'm tempted, but heck, Jeff, I've only known her less than two weeks. I know. I know," he said as Jeff started to say something. "We're supposed to be Alphas, and Alphas bond with their females quickly..."

"'Supposed to be Alphas?'" Jeff said. "You've darn sure had enough proof."

"Okay. Alright, we're Alphas, and I agree that the bond is there, a deep bond, but I guess I've been raised, oh heck, whatever the term is, indoctrinated into thinking that you shouldn't jump into marriage. And she's so much younger than I am. I guess it scares me a little. Oh, I think she wants me now, but what about next year, or five years from now? Hell, she's probably going to want to go to rock concerts and scream at the..."

"Oh, bullshit. I have four of them, and although they do listen to some pretty hard rock from time to time, they don't seem inclined to go overboard on anything. Hell, they act more mature than a lot of the so-called adults I've known. Linda will do just fine, and so will you. Now why don't you make an 'honest woman' out of her?"

"'Honest woman?' I guess you're kidding, but I haven't touched her. Although it's getting harder to say no all the time."

"Yeah, me, too," Fred said.

Jeff chuckled, then the chuckles got to be belly laughs. "Just listen to you two. You sound like a couple of old maids. Two grown men in the peak of health saying no to their women. Man, I need to record this. A few years from now both of you will be embarrassed to death hearing yourselves."

"Well, shit, Jeff," Fred said. "I'm an old man. It seems like I'm taking advantage of Carla and Jessica — especially Jessica. She should be out with someone her own age, not some old fossil like me."

"Looks like that 'fossil' sure has a lot of muscles showing through his shirt," Jeff teased. "And I doubt seriously that someone who didn't know you would guess your age above mid forties. How old do you feel? And be honest."

"Jeff, you know the answer to that. Whatever you did to me makes me feel like ... Whatever it is, it is so far back in the past that I can't remember ever feeling as healthy as I do now."

"Yeah, me, too," Dave put in.

"And I'll be in to visit the women tonight so they can have the health that we're all enjoying. Are you going to be in your regular suite, or do you need a double?"

Fred sighed. "We've been using one bed..."

"And you've still managed to tell them no?" Dave said, grinning.

"Well, it's been hard," Fred said. "And that, too," he laughed.

"Talk about me marrying Linda. What about you, Fred? When are you going to make honest women out of your two?"

"Oh ... I, uh. I do love them; that's for sure. But I'm not over Brenda, yet. Damn, it feels like I can talk to her. It just hasn't been long enough. I can't keep my mind off her..."

Jeff glanced at his longtime friend. "She was a wonderful woman. I didn't know her very well, even though we've been friends for years. You and I mostly saw each other at the police department or the range, then later at your detective agency, but I liked her and she was obviously good for you. But you don't have to forget her. All of us have purposely brought up Helen's first husband and sister-wife from time to time as we're talking. She was reluctant to talk about him to me to start with. I guess she thought I would be jealous or something. But he and Martha were part of her life. Part of the reason that Helen is Helen, so to speak. I want to know about her past life. They had to be good people if Helen loved and respected them. They shouldn't be forgotten."

Fred was quiet for a long moment, then finally, "They asked a lot of questions about her, and I got Carla to dig out some more pictures of Sam. She's told me quite a bit about their life — and dreams. Hell, we all sat and cried together."

"So when are you going to make love to them?" Jeff asked, a grin on his face.

Fred knew that Jeff was trying to gently — or maybe not so gently — push him forward. Hell, when am I? Brenda keeps doing the same thing, or else her memory does. Whoever the hell it is I'm talking to. But it just doesn't seem right to jump in bed with someone so soon after Brenda died.

"And why not?" Brenda's voice said in his mind. "I'll be there. I've decided to stay around for a while. I never was into playing harps, anyway. Might as well stick around and harass you."

Both Jeff and Dave saw the look pass over Fred's face, and glanced at each other. Neither said anything.

"I think I'm going nuts," Fred said.

-------

The girls escorted the Tates into the kitchen where Laura, Helen, Diana, Evie, Carla and Jessica were having a gab session. Alesha had gone somewhere with Jesse.

Diana took one look at Virginia's face and stood. Catching her daughter's eyes, she said, "Take a cake and some drinks over to the men, please."

Arlene glanced at her mother, then took the Sheriff by the arm. "Come on. I'll walk over with you. The guys are sitting in the living room. We baked yellow cakes with thick, homemade chocolate icing. I sneaked a piece, and you're going to love it."

Diana turned to Carla and Jessica. "Please forgive me, you two. We'll be back in a little while." She grabbed Virginia and Elizabeth, herding them out the door before they could say anything.

Shortly, Diana guided the two women into a small sitting room well down the hall. "Here. This is private. The girls will bring drinks and cake in a few minutes."

Virginia took a window seat and Elizabeth sat close beside her, both thinking that Diana had forgotten to tell the others where the three of them would be. After looking out the window for a moment at the setting sun causing the tops of the distant mountains to glow in the twilight, "Oh, the view is fabulous," Virginia said.

The sisters unconsciously held hands in their worry. Turning to Diana who had pulled a comfortable chair close, Virginia said, "We're sorry to be taking you from your friends..."

"Nonsense. Helen, Laura and the girls will take care of them. And besides, they're much more than just friends, and they won't mind a bit. It's obvious that you have a problem." Diana just smiled at the two women and waited.

"We've got a problem all right." Virginia hesitated, looking toward Elizabeth.

"Go ahead. We agreed. We don't have anything much to lose except a little pride," Elizabeth said.

Virginia sniffed, fighting not to cry. Finally, "Oh, Hell. I don't know how to say it tactfully. I've screwed up my marriage. I've done something really stupid."

When she didn't immediately say anything else, Diana responded with, "Well, he's still with you. That's a good thing. What happened?"

"Uh ... he caught me making love..."

"Uh oh. Did he kill the guy?"

"Well ... no. You see it wasn't a guy ... It was Elizabeth."

Even Diana hadn't expected that, and she couldn't help but look at Elizabeth, who was now blushing a furious red.

Diana cleared her throat, not knowing what to say. "Uh, when did this start?"

"When I was thirteen," Elizabeth broke in. "We've always been lovers. We were inseparable even as little kids."

"Thirteen? Hmmm. And I take it that Quinton didn't know about this?"

"No," Virginia quietly said. "And he found out ... Uh, he walked in on us."

"Oh, boy. And what did he say?"

"Well, I guess we didn't, uh ... notice him for a while. He told us later that he had said something, but when we didn't respond, he..."

"Shot a fucking hole in the floor," Elizabeth interjected. "I'm surprised that we didn't pee on each other."

"He shot a hole in the floor?"

"Well, yeah," Virginia said, sounding a lot like she was defending her husband. "It was in the closet floor, though. He didn't threaten us or anything, just..."

"Just damn got our attention," Elizabeth finished for her.

Diana could barely keep her face straight, remembering how Virginia's jealousy showed when Joyce had kissed Quinton; knowing that he must have really been pissed. She couldn't help it; she just had to. "Uh, I guess you didn't invite him to join in?" she said, but the giggle got out a little, anyway.

Surprising Diana, Virginia didn't become hostile, but had a strange look on her face. "Catching us was bad enough, but that's probably not the worst thing I have done ... I've been a bitch to my husband ... Well, no, that isn't exactly right, I've treated him pretty well except for my jealousy and ... my withdrawal from lovemaking."

"'Withdrawal?'" Diana asked, her puzzlement evident.

Linda and Jennie pushed a serving cart into the room, interrupting them. The sisters looked at each other wondering how the girls had found them, apparently so easily. Linda hadn't. It was Jennie, of course.

Linda cut a small piece of cake for each of the women while Jennie asked what they wanted to drink. When everyone was served, both girls hugged Virginia and Elizabeth. As they started to leave, Jennie turned to the sisters, and with utmost conviction, said, "Whatever is wrong, my sister-wife will fix it. Just have faith."

Hand in hand the two girls left.

Embarrassed, Diana repeated, "Withdrawal?"

"Yeah," Virginia agreed. "I guess I went off the deep end. After Scott died, I, uh ... felt guilty when Quinton and I made love..."

"Are you saying that you had an affair with Elizabeth's husband and after he died you felt guilty when you made love to Quinton?"

"Oh, goodness no," Virginia quickly said, shaking her head. "Oh, he was a great guy, and we were close, but just as family. It never crossed my mind to do anything with him, and I'm sure he felt the same way about me. It ... oh, hell, I can't explain it. It just was. I just felt guilty because I loved sex so much and Elizabeth couldn't experience it with her man any longer. I started acting like ... I don't know. I just wouldn't allow myself to respond to Quinton any longer. I guess, I more or less, just lay there."

Virginia toyed with her cake, taking a small bite, but not even tasting it.

"And he put up with that?" Diana asked, trying to keep the look of incredulity off her face. "He didn't comment or ask you about it?"

"Oh, yeah, many times, but I just told him ... inane things, until he mostly quit asking."

"And this went on for how long?"

"Close to five years ... And I became more and more jealous," she said, staring at her feet. Then after a silence, "I knew I was messing up, but I just couldn't seem to get over it. I guess I expected that he would start running around on me sooner or later. Heck, I'm amazed that he didn't. But it was like ... I don't know. Like I was sick or something. I just couldn't respond to him. Every time he started making love to me, I always thought about Elizabeth and how lonely she was, and something just froze up inside me. I know it doesn't make sense. I ... just couldn't seem to respond without feeling like ... Oh, hell, I don't know."

"And all this time you and Elizabeth were making love?"

"Yeah," they both said.

Diana finally took a bite of the cake, then leaning back in her chair, she let her breath escape with a slight whistling sound. "My first thought is that your husband is a pussy for putting up with that for five years, but I don't think that fits Quinton under any circumstances. I'm sure he's an Alpha. So that just leaves someone that loves you; loves you a whole lot."

Tears were now freely rolling down both of the sister's faces. Diana handed them a napkin each from the serving cart. "So how are you going to fix it?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I don't know," Virginia almost wailed. "He's going to move out of our bedroom. He said he wouldn't divorce me, though. We could each live our own separate lives. I... we begged him to not make a hasty decision, but he's pissed. I mean, really pissed. And he's hurt, too. Oh, Diana, we don't know what to do. That's the reason we came to you. I mean, there are seven of you..."

"Nine, or will be soon," Diana interjected.

"Uh, nine. I mean ... well, we don't know how to do this. We all found out that we were in love with each other. Uh ... I mean, while we were sitting on the couch crying, with Quinton sitting between us just staring into space, we found out that Quinton and Elizabeth had been in love for years, even before Elizabeth married Scott. I think that love is the only way I can keep him, but I'm so ... jealous that I can't even think about him..."

"Fucking someone else," Diana bluntly said. "But it's okay for you and your sister to fuck," she continued for the shock value. "Doesn't seem entirely fair, now does it?"

The women sat for a moment just thinking. Diana looked at Elizabeth. "And you knew about this?"

Elizabeth sighed. "I knew that they were having trouble, and I knew that Virginia had embarrassed him when she walked in when he and some woman were eating lunch together at one of the functions where Quinton gives talks. But I didn't know that she ... felt guilty when she made love to her husband. I honestly didn't know that."

"So when did this happen?"

"Uh, walking in on us?"

"Yeah."

"He came home for lunch. He parked his car at the barn, and we didn't hear him drive up. He just walked in the house, then into the bedroom while we were..."

"So, it's after six now. What happened during the afternoon?"

Virginia looked at her sister for a moment. "Well, we cried for a while. Sat on the couch with him and begged him. That's when we found out that we all loved each other like I told you. Then Quinton went out and worked on the barn for a while, then took a nap. We ate dinner, then came up here."

"And he didn't give you any problem about coming up here? He had to know that you were coming to talk to me about it."

"No. He just brought us up here, but he said practically nothing on the way, no matter what we tried to talk about."

"But he said that he loved you both?"

"Yes, but I swear that I've never..." Elizabeth started.

"I know. I know," Diana absently said. After a moment, she turned to Virginia. "How badly do you want to keep your husband?"

"Are you kidding? I want it more than anything on Earth. But he won't even let me kiss him. He just turns his head or gently pushes me away."

Diana picked up the carafe and absently warmed her coffee, almost forgetting her guests as her mind visualized the sisters' afternoon. Well, there's only one answer, and Virginia and Elizabeth know what it is, or they wouldn't even be here. But with Virginia's jealousy to overcome ... Even then, Quinton may be too hurt to consider it. Both of these women are pretty and with the healer, they'll look a lot younger and a lot prettier very soon. But we can't wait for that. The Alpha will solve this one way or the other long before the age regression fully comes about. Shit. We seem to jump from one crisis to another.

-------

Evie stepped into the living room, a sexy little grin on her face, and crooked her finger at her husband.

"I guess the boss wants me," Dave said, standing.

"Yeah, I think duty calls," Jeff snickered.

"Ah, it's a hard job, but someone has to do it," Dave mock sighed, not caring how trite the expression was.

As the couple walked out the door, Evie put her arm around his waist, her head nestled against her man as Dave pulled her to him.

Quinton seemed not to notice as he continued to stare into the fire.

-------

The next scene is dedicated to two very special people. 

As Evie and Dave walked into their apartment, "Quinton looks like he's seen a ghost," Dave said.

"Yeah, and Virginia and Elizabeth are really upset."

"Do you have any idea why?" Dave asked, stopping to hold her just before entering their living room.

Evie hugged him, then looked up into his eyes. "I haven't a clue, but I'm worried about them. They seem like nice people, and Quinton stood up for Joyce. Diana says he's an Alpha, and I think she's right. I hope it isn't anything really serious."

"Me, too. But by the way Quinton looked, it is."

"Diana will fix it if anyone can," Evie said with conviction in her voice.

"Or Jeff," Dave finished as he sat on the couch.

Evie plopped down on his lap, snuggling, then after a moment, she put an arm behind him in order to press her breasts against his chest and side. After a little while, she nuzzled his neck.

"I assume that you had a reason for taking me out of there? Heck, I might have been of some help, but Quinton hadn't said anything much so far."

Evie wiggled a little on his lap, feeling a lump beginning to form under her. "If Jeff needs us, he'll call. Right now, I need you more than Jeff does."

"And just what do you 'need' me for?" Dave grinned as she squirmed a little more, making sure he felt her breasts pressed against him.

Evie stopped for a moment, becoming quiet, then, "You're going around horny more and more, aren't you?"

"Me?" he laughed. "You're the one who dragged me out of that living room."

"Oh, I'm horny, too," Evie said, pulling back so she could look him in the face for a moment. Then turning and straddling him so she could look in his eyes without straining, she suddenly looked contrite. Fiddling with a button on his shirt, she finally said, "Yeah, I stay horny, too, but I can't keep up with you anymore..."

"Oh, bull. Baby, we've talked about this before..."

"No, I'm serious," Evie broke in, suddenly taking his face in her hands, then gently touching her lips to his for a moment. "Yeah, we talked about this, but what I'm trying to say is that you need to go ahead and marry Linda. She's ready, and I'm ready..."

"Evie, we don't need to jump into this. I know. You've repeated what Diana and Jeff have said about Alphas not taking as long as other guys to realize that they were truly in love and ... staking out their claim, but..."

"Honey, I'm changing," Evie quietly said as she leaned forward again, this time to kiss him on the nose. "Diana says it's the Queen Bitch ... syndrome, or whatever, taking over. She said it started when I made up my mind to have Linda join us. And I think she's right. Whatever. It's becoming stronger. I think about us — the three of us — all the time. I love her. I mean, really love her. I want to watch you push through her hymen. I know that sounds stupid, but I'm almost becoming ... obsessed with it. I want her to be yours."

Evie suddenly leaned forward, hugging herself as tightly to him as she could. When she said something into his chest, Dave said, "I can't hear you, Babe."

Evie sat back up brushing a tear from her eye as Dave looked concerned. "Oh, I'm not crying. I'm just happy. I want to hold her in my arms while you make love to her. I want to ... touch her breasts," she said barely above a whisper as she turned a bright red.

"Baby, you've always made fun of women — well, not openly, but to me — who were obviously gay. I can't believe..."

"You can't believe. Hah. How about me? A little while ago, I couldn't even understand how Diana could allow another woman to have sex with Jeff, let alone kiss her. Now, I'm almost driven by the idea of you pushing that marvelous cock of yours up Linda. I want to see the look on her face when she feels you fully inside her for the first time. You do love her, don't you?" Evie quickly said.

"Look, Babe. We've gone over and over this. Yes. A very emphatic yes. I do love her. Hell, I almost did from the first time I set eyes on her."

"It's the Alpha in you. The Alpha that Little One has set loose."

Dave sniggered a little, chucking her under the chin with a curled finger. "Kinda like the werewolf coming out in me," he teased.

Evie giggled a little. "No, silly. And you're not going to distract me. I'm your Queen Bitch. Diana says so, and I believe her. It's the only thing that makes sense out of the way I feel. Little One has done that. A few months ago, I would have scratched Linda's eyes out before I would have even let her sit in your lap. Now, it gives me goosebumps when she does. Good goosebumps."

Dave slid his hand under her top, pushing it above her breasts, her nipples already plump and erect. Leaning forward, he took one into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment before stripping it gently through his teeth. Evie shuddered.

Milking her other breast with his hand, he locked his mouth onto the nipple and sucked hard, his tongue teasing the engorged bud as he did so. After a moment, Evie's breathing picked up accompanied by an occasional gasp. Within a minute, she shivered, gasped again, and came. The orgasm lasted longer and seemed stronger than any he remembered from just nursing her breasts.

As she suddenly relaxed against him, she giggled. Then after a while, "Wow. That was intense. I remember being amazed when Diana first mentioned that she had numerous orgasms from having her breasts messed with. And that's another thing. Even with you just nursing my breast, the orgasm was more intense than I used to have with you making love to me. I need to thank Little One again. Whatever she did to us..."

Abruptly stopping, she whipped her top off over her head, shaking her short hair back into place, her bare breasts bobbing close to Dave's face. Standing, she quickly kicked off her shoes, then stripped off her shorts and panties. "Get out of those pants. I want that big cock pushed up against my womb."

Dave didn't have to be told twice. Shortly, he was nude with his little wife back astraddle his lap. Evie grabbed his dick and held it vertically as she slid her belly up against it. "Shit, Dave. It goes to my navel. It's way bigger than it used to be. And it fit me just fine before."

"Oh, Honey. It might have grown a little; although, I never heard of such a thing. But it isn't all that much bigger..."

"Bullshit. You're not the one who has to take that thing. I'm telling you it is longer and bigger around, too."

"So, do we need to get part of it whittled off?" he teased.

"No," Evie said, distractedly as she stroked his cock. "I just need some help. Linda is going to love this," she finished, sliding off his lap to her knees in front of him. Bringing his cock to her lips, she lovingly kissed the tip, running her tongue out to lap several drops of precome.

"Oh, shit, that feels good," Dave sighed.

Her eyes sparkling, Evie pushed her mouth over the head, her tongue still swirling around as she held his dick barely past her lips. After slowly working her mouth up and down the head for a time, she got serious about the blowjob. Stroking the base of his cock with her hand, she moved her mouth faster and sucked harder.

After a few minutes in which Evie seemed lost in her oral manipulations, Dave took a firm grip on her shoulders. "Un uh, Baby. I want to come in your pussy. Come up here."

Almost mesmerized, Evie finally allowed him to pull her back onto his lap. Still holding his cock, she rose up, guided him to her entrance and slowly sat back down a little. Working his cock in, she felt it nudge against her cervix. There was still cock left over. Rotating her tight little ass, she rubbed the head of his dick hard against her womb. Dropping into a rhythm that both of them liked, she rode him for several minutes. After several small orgasms, she built toward another one.

"This is going to be a good one," she gasped as sweat beaded her forehead. "Come on. Come with me this time. I want to feel you come inside me."

As she neared her peak, Dave held her hips and thrust upward hard into her, making her grunt each time his cock slammed into her womb. Finally, groaning, he arched upward, his cock spurting.

As Evie felt the warmth splash against her cervix, she gasped, then threw her head back and screamed, her body thrashing against his. After a prolonged moment, she collapsed against his chest as he gasped for breath, his cock still hard inside her.

He held her against him, kissing the side of her face occasionally as their breathing returned to normal.

"See. It's still hard," she whispered into his ear, then gently bit his earlobe.

"Baby, I can't help that. Your pussy feels good as you squeeze my dick. No way is it going down with you doing that."

"It used to, before the healer helped our bodies," she commented.

They kissed for a few minutes before she pulled back a little and offered her breast. "Suck my titty. Suck it really hard."

With one hand gently stroking her back and the other on her hip, he nursed her breasts for a few seconds.

"No. Suck hard."

"Baby, I don't want to hurt you. If I suck hard, you always say that it hurts."

"I know," she said, looking down at him as he resumed. "But I want you to suck really hard this time."

As Dave sucked harder, she encouraged him. "Harder. Really hard."

Dave gave up and gave it his all, sucking as hard as he could while pulling back on the nipple.

"Yesss," she hissed. "That's it. It feels sooo goood," she sighed as she held her breast for him, squeezing and milking it toward his mouth.

Dave suddenly pulled back, looking at her nipple. As she stripped her fingers down her breasts onto her nipples, a drop of semi-clear liquid formed on the tip of the nipple he had been sucking. Leaning forward, he licked the drop away as another one slowly formed in its place. He licked it away and grinned up at his wife. "Sweet. Very sweet."

"Oh, Baby," she hissed. "Suck hard again. I'm gonna ... come," she gasped as he did, and she did.

"Milk?" Dave grinned as he pulled on her nipple and watched another drop slowly form.

"Maybe not quite. But it's getting there I think."

Evie rose back up, then dropped back down. There was a farting sound as Dave's come was forced out around their junction. Rising back up again, Evie looked down as the semen puddled on his groin. "You come a lot more than you used to. I wonder how many women you could get pregnant with what you just squirted up me?"

"Maybe not any," Dave said looking at the mess. "One of us doesn't work, or we would have had kids long ago. Chances are it's me."

"Or me," she quickly added. "But like I've said so many times, it doesn't matter which of us it is. If it's you, then there is generally nothing that can be done. If it's me, then I'm not going to take any of the fertility drugs. I'm not going to take a chance of having a litter of babies, instead of one. Not to say anything about giving up my career — period — just think what that would do to my body.

"I saw this woman on TV that had a bunch of kids at one time because of taking fertility drugs. Her body was gross afterward. All that loose skin hanging down. She had to have reconstructive surgery just to look human again. Can you imagine what five babies would do to my little body — if I lived through it?"

"Uh. Maybe there's something that you haven't considered," he said, absently beginning to tease her nipples again. "Now that Little One has done her thing with our bodies, who says that you can't have kids now. Or if it was me causing the problem, maybe I work now."

"Oh, I've thought about that," she said, leaning in to kiss him for a moment. Then sitting back up and wiggling her bottom in order to feel his cock move inside her, "But Diana says that Little One shuts down the process that brings my eggs to maturity. If we want to have a baby, I'll have to let her start things back up."

"So, do you?" Dave asked, an odd tone in his voice as he pressed up inside her.

"I ... Oh, shit, Baby, that feels good," she gasped. Then, "I don't know. I've always wanted kids, but I'll have to think about it now. I do know that I want to have a baby before Linda does. I'm not jealous of her — far from it. But your Queen Bitch has to be first with that."

"That makes me horny hearing you talk about babies. I could be putting one in your womb right now, if Little One hadn't stopped the ... process," he said, stroking her harder.

"Wait," Evie hissed. "Wait a minute. I want to talk to you before you make me come again."

"What?" Dave gasped, almost on the slope where he wouldn't be able to stop.

"I want to talk about something."

"You what?" he said, forcing himself to hold back. "Can't we finish this, then talk?"

Evie giggled. "Finish? When have you ever finished, lately? You can always go again. That's one of the main reasons for marrying Linda. But I want to ask you if you would really like for me to give milk?"

"Baby, we've had this conversation before," he said cupping her face, pulling her to him to kiss.

When the kiss was over, "Yeah, I know, but you avoided answering me before. But every time I notice Diana's and Arlene's breasts full of milk, I think about it again. I think I want to. Diana says it might be a Queen Bitch thing, but she's not sure.

"I mail-ordered a breast pump like hers. It does both breasts at the same time, and I've read a lot about starting milk in my breasts. But before I did it, I wanted to ask you about it again. Maybe thinking about it so much has had an effect also. I don't know, but my breasts feel different. They've grown a half cup size. I had to get new bras. Now the liquid that you've teased out of them tonight..."

"Yes," he said, interrupting her. "I think it's sexy. And if it's going to taste like those few drops did, I'm definitely for it."

"It might not be easy to get stopped, if you later decide that you don't want it any more," she said as she began moving in earnest.

"Yeah, well, we'll discuss that in twenty years or so," Dave said thrusting upward into her clasping pussy.

"Suck my tits, Dave," she whimpered. "Suck me as you come inside me."

He did and she did. The wail she produced tested the sound proofing of the outer door as her orgasm lasted until she passed out and slumped against her husband.



-------

Chapter 92


Wednesday Late — September 25

After the men had sat idly chatting in the living room for a time, Fred, realizing that the Sheriff and Jeff might need to talk, cleared his throat. "Jeff, would you mind if I used your exercise equipment? Carla's stuff isn't nearly as extensive as yours."

"Sure. Go ahead. You know where it is and you also know that you don't have to ask," Jeff replied, locking eyes with Fred for a moment, knowing what Fred was doing.

After Fred had left, Jeff looked over at Tate, who looked embarrassed. "I suppose something has happened? That was an awful sick look on your face when you walked in here."

"I guess your friend picked up on it, too. I..."

"Forget it. Fred doesn't mind."

Quinton sighed, finally remembering the piece of cake before him. Taking up his fork, he took a bite while wondering whether he should confide in this man whom he didn't know very well. Somehow, though, he felt as if he had known Jeff all his life, and ... trusted him. He had always had the ability to tell when someone was lying to him, and with that went the sure knowledge whether to trust someone or not.

"Jeff, this is personal, and well, I guess I don't really have anyone who is close enough to me to share this with. But truth be told, I'm in a mess, I guess you could say. I suspect that Virginia and Elizabeth are telling Diana right now. Probably came for advice, and I guess if I had been thinking, I would have realized it before we got out of the house. She first said she wanted to go for a drive, but then told me she wanted to come up here..."

When Tate trailed off, Jeff reached over and put a hand on Quinton's shoulder for a second. "If it will do any good to talk, I promise you that no one will ever hear what you tell me unless you give the okay."

Tate sighed, feeling the intensity of Jeff's comment. Then after a moment, "Well, here it is..."

-------

When Quinton finished, he took the last bite of his cake, sitting the plate back on the coffee table. "Kinda fucked up, huh?"

Jeff stood up to get the coffee carafe from the serving cart. Leaning over, he warmed their coffee, then locked eyes with Tate. "Alpha males tend to cause problems with the female population around them," he said mysteriously before putting the carafe back on the cart and reseating himself near the Sheriff.

"It took me a while to understand this, and I had a whole lot more information to work with than you do. We need to pick up our conversation where we left off this morning about Alpha Males."

"Jeff, what has that got to do with my problem?"

"Well, as they say, maybe everything; maybe nothing."

When Tate didn't respond, Jeff grinned. "Sorry. That was in poor taste."

Tate took a sip of his refreshed coffee. "I guess I'm not very good company..."

Jeff ignored the comment. "First off: I can't tell you where much of this information comes from, but a lot of it seems to fit, and Diana swears by most of it."

The Sheriff started to say something, when Jeff quickly went on. "Just listen, please. This is going to take a while. When I'm done, I'll answer any of your questions that I can, with the one caveat that I just mentioned."

"Well, I don't exactly have anything better to do," Tate tried to joke. Soon, he was caught up in a tale stranger than anything he had ever heard before.

-------

Later, Tate stood looking out the big window overlooking the lighted grounds of the retreat. Without turning back toward Jeff who still remained seated a few feet away, "You can't really believe this ... If you would just tell me where it all came from, I might be able to give it more credibility."

"You're an Alpha. No doubt about it. I can feel it. Diana can feel it. And beyond that, I ... uh, have another way to be absolutely certain of it," Jeff said, referring to Little One telling him that Quinton was an Alpha.

Tate glanced at Jeff for a moment, then turned back to stare out the window. "There's nothing special about me. Never has been."

"Well, there's one thing that you told me that surely is special," Jeff replied, then quickly went on before the Sheriff could say anything. "You can tell when someone is lying to you. Turns out that Frank, Bill, Dave, Fred and I all have that ability, or a variation of it. Fred was a police detective for many years. A homicide detective who even other agencies knew about and asked his advice and assistance on many cases. After he retired, he made a lot of money from insurance companies recovering stolen property that no one else seemed to be able to recover. Valuable property, and he was paid a percentage of its worth. A detective has an edge when he instantly knows when someone isn't telling the truth. You've been one. I'm preaching to the choir."

Jeff pushed his recliner back more, relaxing and trying to send those feelings to Tate. "Then there's Dave, who always seems to hire the right people. Evie says it's uncanny. Oh, and he seems to be able to pick up land deals that no one else realizes. Frank, in his own way, does this as well. I walked into his office with an invention to tell him about. He believed me. He knew. He picked Dave and Evie to build this place, and they didn't even bid. They just made a deal with him, and he knew that they weren't going to mess over him.

"I don't know as much about Bill. But I can feel that he's an Alpha. He left his daughter with us — well, with Dave, Evie and us. His wife left him and he didn't have a good place to leave Linda while he was flying. He knows we'll take care of her, and indeed, he's going to let her marry Dave — be Dave's second wife. And right now, you know I'm telling the truth. You can feel it, can't you?"

Tate turned back from the window and plopped down in a seat facing Jeff. "Yeah, I can feel it. But there's something about being able to tell if someone is telling the truth. I've had nuts tell me things; how they've killed the president, the queen of England, weird stuff ... and they believed it, so it didn't come across as a lie. If someone is convinced that what they are saying is the truth, then it seems like the truth to me..."

" ... And if I believe the things that I've just told you, then you detect my feelings, thus not being able to distinguish truth from untruth, so to speak?"

"Yeah, that's about it. Sorry Jeff, I didn't mean that to be as harsh as the way you put it. I'm still a bit ... leery to believe everything you say, and I don't mean any offense with that. It's just too..." Tate cleared his throat and crossed his legs. "But how can this invention of yours bring out all these changes in me? The things that have atrophied or lain dormant in me?"

"I didn't say it was my invention. You assumed that from the beginning. My invention was, in general, an advanced form of radar. Actually, it doesn't use radar as you would understand it, but that's beside the point right now."

"So something else made Elizabeth better? Made Virginia and I feel like a million dollars?"

"I'm not giving any hints. If you feel better by thinking it's an invention, then maybe you need to stick with that thought. But you're going to continue with this feeling of well-being. Your body hasn't completed all its changes, yet. This ... process is faster now than it was a month or two ago. It ... understands the, uh, body better now; is able to accomplish more, quicker. You're going to start looking younger. Virginia and Elizabeth will probably show it more than you will. And trust me, your Alpha tendencies have already been enhanced and they will continue to grow."

Tate raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond.

"I'm not sure about this, but the age regression seems to show up more with women than men. I think it has something to do with mental attitude, but I'm certainly not sure."

"Mental attitude?"

"Well, I'm calling it that, but it probably isn't everything. Look at Diana. She looks twenty or so, yet I probably look thirty. I don't really want to look twenty. I strongly suspect that you don't either."

Tate chuckled. "Well, as good as it sounds, I can't imagine being Sheriff at twenty. Might bring up a few questions."

"But I feel twenty," Jeff interjected. "And Diana wants to look twenty, I think. Helen and Laura are looking younger every day, but I have no idea where they will bottom out, but Diana hasn't changed in a while, so I think she's where she wants to be."

"Jeff, you talk as if this is absolute fact. It's a lot to swallow, even though I know that you think you're telling the truth."

"There's something else that I mentioned, but I need to reiterate. You're going to start producing pheromones — probably have started already. You're also going to have to learn to control them. I had some embarrassing moments before my women realized what was going on and got on my ass to control them. I was having waitresses coming onto me..."

"Hey, you're a nice looking guy. Heck, even I have a woman make a pass at me every now and then, especially if I'm in uniform."

"It's more than that. And you've always been an Alpha, so to some degree, you've always been able to attract females, whether you wanted to or not. But it's going to get worse, or better, whichever way you consider it. But, trust me, this is going to be an embarrassment shortly if you don't learn to control it. They will start to come sit in your lap — total strangers."

Tate looked at Jeff for a moment, then his face changed to a big grin. "If that is so, then my jealous wife is going to have kittens," he laughed.

Jeff didn't respond as Quinton expected, but instead, "She might not. If she turns out to be your Queen Bitch, as I suspect has already begun to happen, she might just fool you. She might even encourage it. But I doubt if it will happen overnight. She'll probably start to feel the — urges, to use an incomplete concept — but she's going to have problems with the logical part of her mind as well. Your pheromones, and I suspect, something that we have that is mental, will tend to push her in the direction of a Queen Bitch. Diana waffled with jealousy for a while, but something happened. Hell, I think if it were entirely up to her, I would have twenty wives. It adds to the Queen Bitch's ... prestige, to again use a word that is only close to the concept, as I understand it. Don't get me wrong. She loves her sister-wives. But it is more than love; there is a connection there that's almost scary."

"Not my wife," Tate emphatically said. "Not with her jealousy." Then after thinking a minute, "Okay, if this ... process — whatever it is — has changed me so that I've started spewing pheromones, then why aren't your wives wanting to sit in my lap, as you put it?"

"That's a good point. Happens that those pheromones don't affect another Alpha's women — at least not much. But you have to be damned careful with women in enclosed places whether they're married or not — unless they belong to an Alpha. Some are affected more than others, but all not belonging to an Alpha are affected. If you start responding to them and thinking sexual thoughts, you're going to be in trouble."

Quinton grinned at Jeff. "This is a totally weird conversation — the whole thing. So how do I learn to control the pheromones?"

"Damned if I know," Jeff just had to say.

As Quinton opened his mouth to object, he realized that Jeff was messing with him. "Okay, you almost got me. So assuming that this does happen to me — and right now it seems farfetched — what do I do?"

Jeff grinned at the Sheriff. "I wasn't completely kidding you. I can only tell you that when you see the women starting to respond, to concentrate on them being less interested, and just acting normally. Try to ignore their beauty, or whatever attracts you to them. I finally hit the right, uh, sequence. Once I had done it, it wasn't nearly as hard next time. Now, I do it almost unconsciously. You can turn it back on just as easily."

Tate leaned back, realizing that he was in a much better mood than he had been when he first walked into the living room. Still more than just a bit skeptical, he asked, "So tell me again how you know I'm and Alpha Male. This 'feel' that you talk about..."

"Yeah, I can feel an Alpha, although faintly before the ... procedure. After that, the Alpha is much more noticeable. One reason that I know that you're putting out more pheromones is that I can smell them."

"So, you're saying I need a bath," Tate kidded.

Jeff chuckled a little. "Laugh now, but soon you're going to find out what a sense of smell really is. Mine is still increasing, but if we're in the same room, I'm beginning to be able to detect if a woman has had sex recently. If I'm in a smaller enclosed space with them, such as a small conference room, I can tell if they're on their period."

"Yuck," Tate grimaced. "I think I could do without that."

"Not as bad as you would think, at least if she has bathed regularly. But I'm beginning to be able to tell if an Alpha has walked into the room with me, and I can usually tell who it is without looking. It's an odd smell — subtle. And it's far different than a woman's, even a woman who is sexually excited. And, oh yeah, once you start having sex with your own women, they'll begin to put out more of their own special pheromones. But I'm pretty sure that only Alphas can detect them. I wasn't able to detect them at first, but as my abilities increased, I've begun to realize that I can detect the women's pheromones as well."

"Jeff, I can feel that you believe what you say, but still, this is ... way out."

"Think about what we've talked about. You've always been an Alpha, but now with the procedure, your abilities have been enhanced, or at least, have started to be enhanced. I think that Virginia is beginning to become a Queen Bitch. She came up here to talk to Diana, and she brought Elizabeth with her. She's had five years to think about Elizabeth not having a man, and since Elizabeth hasn't dated in that period of time, it's logical that Virginia has figured it out to some degree, at least. You three are too close for Virginia not to have noticed that you and Elizabeth love each other.

"Virginia wouldn't accept that either because it's just not done. Our society frowns upon a man having more than one woman. So, all three of you have been fighting against the concept. It was a done deal. Just couldn't happen — against society's mores. But now that your Alpha abilities have suddenly increased, Virginia is being bombarded with new feelings. She knew deep down what should happen. Now the Queen Bitch is starting to come out in her, partly because of your new pheromones and partly because of the, ah ... procedure. Her body is starting to function like a Queen Bitch; she's reacting like one to, and she's also reacting to her Alpha's cues. Here is a female that he loves — an unattached female — so her new Queen Bitch tendencies are telling her what to do.

"She's confused, and by more than her Queen Bitchiness telling her what to do about it," he said with a grin. "Her logical mind wants to continue the way things have been, but she's just been caught in a very compromising position that's blasted her out of her past denial. On the one hand, she's violently against your having another woman, but she has — literally. And this other woman loves you. One of the primary jobs of the Alpha female — the Queen Bitch — is to be in charge of the household, and to make sure that her Alpha Male is taken care of in all ways. If he loves a woman and does not have her, then he isn't being completely taken care of. Also, it is a source of pride for her mate to have more than one female. It heightens him in his Queen Bitch's eyes, and her prestige among other Queen Bitches. Her prestige goes up if her household has several wives of whom she is dominant.

"Look around you at what is happening to the other Alphas here. It's a natural consequence of the enhancing of the Alpha abilities. He attracts females, and one of them is going to be his Queen Bitch. His pheromones and his aura trigger this in his women. Another nice — really nice — thing about this is that the women are constrained to get along. They will avoid displeasing their Alpha. As soon as you let them know that they must get along, they will."

The men sat quietly for a while, finally, "Jeff, obviously, I know that you believe all this, but I've always been a very practical person. If I knew where you get these ideas, it might be easier for me to believe. Hell, I want to believe you. I've seen deputy Cramer healed, then Ms. Turcott. Elizabeth isn't even limping tonight. Virginia is acting strangely for her, and I feel better than I can remember ever feeling. I have so much energy that I want to jump up and click my heels. I respect you, and feel... something between us. An odd something that I've never felt before. Still, the logical part of my mind wants to categorize the things you have told me right up there with space aliens. Can't you at least give me a hint of where this information is coming from?"

Jeff shook his head. "I wish I could. It would make things a lot simpler. But the things that I've told you are going to happen. Your wife wanted to come up here for a reason. She has a pattern before her with Diana and my other wives, and she knows it. She's bound to have already thought about Elizabeth becoming your woman. She knows that she has basically lost you if she doesn't do something drastic. Plus, she's having feelings and urges she's never had before. You're starting to produce pheromones and this mental thing that I'm calling an aura, for lack of a better term to describe it.

"Diana will bull right through any doubts that Virginia has. My wife stumbled into this and had to learn bit by bit. But she, of course, had guidance after a while to explain what was going on."

"Yeah, well, that might be so, but Virginia has always been jealous. When she started having problems making love to me because of feeling guilty, she apparently also realized that my not being satisfied at home might lead to my looking for pussy elsewhere. That made her even more jealous. I don't think she's the sharing kind."

"If she's going to be your Queen Bitch, then she'll share. She might not be nearly as jealous if she is the one that arranges for your other females. If she refused the Queen Bitch role, then a rival female will be in charge — in charge of her. Diana will make sure she understands this. Virginia appears to be a smart woman. You're an Alpha and she is beginning to understand this, or will in days to come as she begins to feel your pheromones more intensely, plus your aura. I suspect that she's already begun to feel things. One of the reasons that she wanted to talk to Diana is that she represents, to Virginia a 'working, ' so to speak, multiple marriage. All three of you love each other, and her own marriage is about to go bust if she doesn't do something drastic."

Tate sighed. "You mentioned other females. I thought we were talking about Elizabeth. Even Elizabeth is a stretch, but maybe, just maybe, is in the range of possibility considering what has happened, and what you just said. But there is no way in hell that she would consider a harem like you have, if that's what you mean," Quinton finished, frowning.

"Yeah, well, I didn't believe it either, until ... uh, I had it explained to me, shall we say."

Quinton started to respond but stopped when Diana came into the room. Crossing to her husband, she snuggled into his lap. After locking her mouth to Jeff's for a good thirty seconds, she turned to Tate. "Your women are waiting for you in the suite you used last night. Breakfast is at six, but the kitchen is always open in case you need a snack during the night. The first refrigerator on the left will have the leftovers from supper. We'll leave the bread out so you can see it, and there will be an assortment of cold cuts to make sandwiches with, in the same refrigerator."

"I don't normally eat anything during the night," Tate said. "I didn't know we were staying the night..."

"I'll bet you'll be hungry before this night is over," Diana broke in with a grin. "And," she added in a stern voice. "if Virginia gives you any lip, just bend her over your knee and blister her ass. You might be totally amazed at the result."

"I could never hurt..."

"Your Queen Bitch will try you from time to time. She has a strong personality, just as I have. She needs to respect her Alpha, though. Making love to her is fine, but from time to time, she will need more. You should already have seen that. My husband was the same, and I thought that I always wanted gentle loving, but when I finally pissed him off and he showed me who was boss, I really started to enjoy sex. You don't have to really hurt her, and most of it is just play, but a strong Queen Bitch will need her Alpha to control her every now and then. Take seriously what I've just told you. You should never have let her get away with what she did about refusing to participate in sex, no matter that she felt guilty. There was a simpler way to solve that. Now go take your Queen Bitch and your new mate. We'll make sure you are up in time to get to work; although, you might be a little sleepy tomorrow."

Tate stood, but hesitated, looking at Diana. "I still can't believe this..."

"Just remember what I've said," Diana broke in. "Your women are waiting, but Virginia might still make you work for it. She is a strong-willed person, but she's your Queen Bitch. Love her, but take her. If you go in there sending mixed signals, this will turn out less than satisfactory for all three of you. Kiss her; tell her you love her, then do the same for Elizabeth. If Virginia objects in the slightest way, show her you're an Alpha. I think you'll be amazed at the results."

Tate thought for a bit, then, "Well, hell, it's not as if I have much to lose. Thank you, Diana, and you Jeff. I know both of you are trying to help. Heck, maybe it will even work."

Diana got up and kissed him on the cheek. "Remember what I told you. She knows that this is the answer, and she knows that she has messed up. She loves you — both of them do — and she wants to save her marriage. Go take your women."

Quinton Tate thanked his hosts again, his mind a turmoil. Turning, he left the living room and started toward their suite. Can I believe this? I've always been a down-to-earth type of guy. Yeah, I can tell when someone is lying, and I damn sure learned early on that people thought I was nuts when I talked about it. Finally told everybody that I had studied everything I could get my hands on about body language, and had taken interviewing courses — which I had. So, they just thought that I got something out of the courses that other folks didn't — that I had a knack for it. Yeah, well, I have a "knack" all right. But shit, this about an Alpha Male... 

Damn. Did Diana really convince Virginia about all this ... whatever it is? Straightening his shoulders, he came to a decision. Hell, my marriage is all but gone, anyway. No way am I going back to what we had. An "Oops, sorry," from her isn't going to cut it. She's bitched at me for five years; treated sex with me like it was dirty; acted like I was fucking every woman in the county, and all the time, she's been fucking her sister. Fuck this shit. I've always loved Elizabeth, but been scared to show it — would never have with Scott alive. I respected him too much for that. But he's gone, and so is my marriage. I'm going to have my fantasy. If she doesn't go for it the way Diana thinks, then I'll move my shit into one of the guest rooms and start looking for some stray pussy. Be damned if I'm living the rest of my life jacking off.

Quinton opened the outer door to their suite and walked with a purpose to the right bedroom door. Hardly slowing, he walked on into the bedroom, his mind made up.

-------

As Evie lay against her husband's chest, their bodies still joined, she gradually regained consciousness. "That was awesome, Baby," she said to her husband.

"Yeah, it sure was," Linda agreed.

Evie's head snapped to the side, only slightly slower than Dave's.

"Oh, shit," Dave hissed. "How long have you been sitting there?" he asked, but his mind was locked onto his wet cock still in Evie's pussy. Shit! Are women born knowing how to embarrass a man? he thought.

"Why is your face turning red?" Linda said, fighting to not laugh, but not fighting very hard. "We're soon to be married, and we've made out quite a bit."

"Yeah, but ... Uh, could you maybe go in the kitchen while Evie and I..."

Linda got up, walked over and kissed him while Evie giggled. The giggling caused her pussy to do interesting things to his dick, and having Linda kiss him while his dick was still in Evie was too much for him. His dick was suddenly hard as a steel rod.

"Oooh," Evie purred. "That feels nice."

Linda figured it out in a heartbeat. "Oh, that's sooo sexy," she said, grinning.

"How did you..." Dave started, but then he realized that Evie was beginning to move. Just a little, but it was noticeable. "Evie, Baby," he tried to scold her. "We can't."

"Why not?" Evie grinned, her butt now making noticeable undulations.

Dave, wanting to die, thought, Oh, shit. I can't believe this is happening. And my dick won't go down. We can't fuck in front of Linda. We just can't.

"What are you worried about?" Linda said as she leaned back over to kiss him again, Evie kissing her on the back of the neck as Linda kissed Dave.

Linda moved aside and Evie stuck a titty against his mouth. "I'm going to have milk for him one day soon," she said, taking her breast in her hand and pushing the nipple against his lips.

His mouth opened and he nursed her breast, wondering if he were dreaming or not.

Evie gave up all pretense of maybe and went for hell yeah. Bouncing, interspersed with a forward and back movement, she headed straight for orgasm. Dave hung onto her hips before she wrenched his dick off. As Evie screamed and leaned back, Linda, seizing the opportunity, pulled her top up, turned Dave's head a little and stuck a breast against his mouth. When he clamped down on her nipple and sucked strongly, she joined Evie. Grabbing Dave's head in a death grip, she squealed, shivered violently, then slumped against the couple.

Dave realized that somewhere along the line he had ejaculated again. There wasn't enough room in his little wife, and with her gyrations, a lot of his semen from this time and the ones before, had been forced out onto his groin.

Linda put a finger between them, then touched it tentatively to her mouth. "Slimy, but the taste isn't bad. And it smells like... man," she said, putting the finger into her mouth and sucking it clean. "I could get used to it — easy."

"Go get us a couple wash cloths, Baby. Normally I would clean it up with my mouth, but I'm wasted," Evie said, snuggling against her husband, but still maintaining their contact.

Linda came hurrying back a moment later.

"You're not going to let me have any modesty," Dave guessed.

"Nope," Evie said rising up and quickly capping the cloth over her drooling pussy as she moved to the side. "What's the point, we're going to marry her Friday night," she finished as she collapsed on the couch beside Dave.

"Friday?" he said, but the distraction of Linda kneeling between his legs and cleaning his dick wouldn't let him completely focus on the wedding.

"Sure. Did you think we were going to put it off forever?" Evie asked as she snuggled against him.

Dave didn't think a week was forever, but just then he was fighting to keep from getting hard again. "You're supposed to see that for the first time on your wedding night," he said, trying for some reason to sound firm as Linda held his dick up and inspected it. He failed.

"I'm going to walk funny for a week," Linda said as she stared at his cock, then, "Who made up those rules?" she said leaning over to wipe a gob of errant semen from Evie's thigh.

"Uh..."

Evie winked at Linda. "We're going for Linda's fitting tomorrow," she told Dave. "You can keep Jeff company while Joyce and Caitlin are getting their fittings. We called in the measurements. We might even get to take the dresses home tomorrow night. If not, we can pick them up Friday. Your tux is already back from the cleaners. You can't even tell where the tailor let out the length on the pants legs. You're all ready to go."

Dave grabbed his pants trying to get them on, but one foot got trapped in a pants leg causing him to have to dance around to keep from falling. Since he hadn't bothered with his shorts in his hurry to get dressed, Linda had a ball watching his again hard cock bounce around.

Finally managing to get the jeans on and zipped up, he collapsed back on the sofa. A giggling Linda knelt on her knees beside him. Holding a breast, she guided it to his mouth as she put the other hand behind Dave's head. "I want another one," she said, rubbing the hard little bud against his lips. He obliged her as Evie snuggled to his other side, a contented smile on her pretty face.



-------

Chapter 93


WEDNESDAY LATE — SEPTEMBER 25

Tate walked into the bedroom to see Virginia and Elizabeth sitting on the side of the bed. Both were wearing almost transparent negligées with matching panties, the outfits given to them by Jeff's wives. Virginia's outfit was red, and Elizabeth's was a pale yellow. Both women blushed as he stopped before them.

"I've decided..." Virginia started, but was cut off by her husband.

"Both of you kneel before me," Tate snapped impulsively.

"What ... I don't..."

"Now!"

Elizabeth slid to the floor on her knees, but Virginia hesitated.

"Shall I tear your ass up now, or later?" Quinton snapped again, putting his hands on his hips and glaring at her.

"Look, Quinton, I ... eeep," she squealed as he jerked her up, quickly sat on the side of the bed and pulled her across his lap.

Whap! The first slap of his big hand landed on her tight ass an instant after she sprawled across his legs.

"Oooh. Shit, Quinton that hurts," she whined, struggling to get up.

Whap!

"Oooooh,"

Not satisfied, he jerked the panties down to bare her tight ass.

She thrashed her legs, trying to get purchase with her feet, to no avail, then tried to roll away. He pressed down with his other arm, hard.

Whap!

Her indignation and anger quickly turned into wails of pain as she gasped out, "Oh, God, Quinton that hurts. You don't realize..." Whap! "Ooooh ... how much it hurts," she gasped. "Oh, shit, Baby, you're killing me." Her cries got louder, then became sobs as Tate continued. After one ass cheek was red, he began on the other.

Five hard licks on each cheek and he paused. "Diana says that you're going to be my Queen Bitch. I'll be the first to admit that this is all a little beyond the pale for me, but she and Jeff believe it. Our marriage as such is over; has been for the last five years. I've let you get away with being a bitch to me, but it's over. Either this works with the three of us, or I go looking for some strange pussy — and I won't have to look far."

Shifting his gaze to a trembling Elizabeth, "Get her a tissue," he ordered.

Eyes big, she scrambled to comply.

When Elizabeth handed Virginia the tissues and returned to her knees, "Blow your nose, and get on your knees, hands clasped behind you, head down a little, eyes fixed on the carpet." When Virginia hesitated, the big man continued, "The next stopping point is twenty. You just got ten. No problem to me. It's your ass."

Virginia opened her mouth to protest, but saw the look on her husband's face. Sliding quickly to the floor, she joined her sister who had already assumed the position without specifically being told. "From now until I tell you differently, when I come home from work, both of you will be in the bedroom in that position."

"Quinton," Virginia began, looking up at him as he now stood in front of them again.

"Next stop twenty," he growled.

She quickly ducked her head and looked at the floor, shivering.

"That's better. If I'm really an Alpha Male and this ... procedure, whatever it is, is going to bring out abilities in me, then you two are going to start treating me differently — a lot differently. I love both of you, but that love has allowed you, Virginia, to get away with treating me like shit. That's over," he snarled again.

"Look up at me, Virginia." When she did, "Over. Do you understand?"

Virginia hesitated, but when he reached for her, she quickly added. "Yes, Quinton. I'll do as you say, but..."

Tate snatched her up and put her over his knees again. Ten rapid hard licks later, she was back on her knees, snuffling, dabbing at her eyes with another handful of tissues. "This can go on all night. My hand will last a lot longer than your ass," he threatened.

"Yes, yes. I'll do anything you say. Anything. Just don't hit my ass again. I can't stand any more."

"And you, Elizabeth?"

His sister-in-law softly giggled. "I haven't had sex in five years. Well, sex with a man. I've loved you ever since I can remember. You won't have to worry about my lying there and faking death while you make love to me. If I had known that Virginia was doing that to you, she and I would have had a discussion long ago. I would love to be your second woman. If you want to spank me, you certainly can, but I'll do anything you want, anyway."

Tate quickly stripped his clothes off, tossing them on a nearby chair. Standing before the still-kneeling women, he stroked his dick as he looked down at them. "Look up at me, now."

Elizabeth's eyes locked to the hard cock only a foot or so from her face. Unconsciously, she licked her lips. It's a good thing I've had two kids. Otherwise, I would be worried that he would rip me apart with that thing. Damn, Virginia said it was big, but she didn't say that big.

"Suck it," he said, his voice hoarse.

Virginia leaned forward and reached out. "No. I want Elizabeth first."

Virginia almost opened her mouth to protest that she was his wife, but her stinging ass reminded her just in time. Quinton saw the aborted movement and said, "Good choice, Darling. The next stopping point is thirty. I doubt if you would be able to sit tomorrow, and nothing is going to get you out of your new duties."

Virginia's face reddened, but she remained quiet.

Elizabeth leaned up and grasped his cock with both hands, bringing her mouth to the tip. Reaching out with her tongue, she licked a drop of pre-come away. Smiling, she opened her mouth as wide as she could as she pushed her lips over the head. Stopping with just the head inside her mouth, she licked, paying extra attention to the underside close to the tip. Quinton groaned in spite of himself.

Pulling back just enough for his cock to clear her lips, Elizabeth said, "If you come in proportion to the size of your balls, I'll be pregnant as soon as I'm fertile. I'm almost in the middle of my cycle; although, I haven't felt my ovulation start, and I can usually feel it."

"You won't get pregnant until we decide for it to happen. Jeff told me that I could tell you that he used ... a process on us last night. The process will make you look younger. But to tell you anything more, the both of you have to swear to never tell anyone, or even hint about it, other than to talk about it with the Matthews."

Elizabeth looked up at him, his cock still in her hands. "A 'process?' What possible kind of process could make my autoimmune go away? He didn't do anything to us..." but then she remembered the dream about the blue glow. "He was in our suite last night," she suddenly exclaimed. "He must have been if he used ... That's the reason I don't hurt any more."

"You have to both swear. And remember, I'll know if you have reservations. You have to swear and mean it or you get nothing else."

The sisters looked at each other. "It's going to make us look young?" Virginia said, her stinging ass temporarily forgotten. "Is that the reason Diana looks so young? I first thought that she was Jeff's second wife. But Arlene is her daughter. Diana said she is thirty. That must be the reason. Has it really healed Elizabeth?"

"I gave Jeff my word. I'm free to tell you what little I know only after you swear. He trusts me that much, and you both know I won't betray that trust."

The women looked at each other again, then, turning toward him, "I swear," they said almost at the same time.

"No one," Quinton, emphasized.

"Wait? What about the girls?" Elizabeth asked. "They're going to notice if we do start looking younger. And they'll surely notice my not limping. I hate to lie to them..."

"No one,  until Jeff gives his permission. Just let them think that some of the medicine helped. We'll ask Jeff about them, later. But he is the one who has to decide."

The women looked at each other again. "I've already given my word," Elizabeth said as she turned back. "They'll just have to wonder. I'm not fool enough to jeopardize being pain-free for the first time in years. You don't have to worry about me."

"And you, Wife?"

"You know I won't, Quinton," she quietly said. "I've lived with you too many years. If you have given your word, then I'm doubly bound."

Quinton stood there a moment, the irony of the discussion as Elizabeth continued to grasp his hard dick, not lost on him. Then, "The process will enhance some things about me that have supposedly lain dormant. And yes, it's the reason you aren't hurting any more, Elizabeth. Your bodies will become younger, but your eggs won't mature until he uses the process to make that happen. So you won't get pregnant."

"Diana said I was to become your Queen Bitch if I expected to save our marriage. She told us a lot of things. She said that there ... would be changes in me. I didn't understand all the things she said about your being an Alpha. I mean; I knew you were different. I knew that five minutes after you picked me up on our first date. She said that I would be pleased to have Elizabeth as my ... sister-wife."

She looked down at the carpet for a moment. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you, my husband. I can't imagine why you have put up with me. But I love you, and I love my sister. Diana said that Jeff would talk to you. I ... didn't expect you to do this to us. I ... can't say that I'm pleased with having my ass spanked, but you've got your point across. And I guess ... I deserve it. I'll do the best I can..."

"Virginia, I should have put a stop to this years ago. I've been a pussy, just because I love you so much. But you will be my wife, or I'll move into that other room. And I don't plan to sleep alone. I told you I was tired of having to jerk off. When my dick gets hard, one of you better take care of it. It's a two way street. You won't regret it. I don't intend to be an ogre, I had rather just love my ... wives and be loved, but tonight we're going to set a precedent. Time to make use of that pretty mouth, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth grinned up at him. "Gladly," she said as she forced her lips around the head of his cock.

Virginia knelt beside her sister. Fighting the jealousy that threatened to well up inside her, she thought of how close she had come to losing her husband. The sick feeling threatened to come back, anyway. What am I jealous of now? I was jealous because I was afraid he was going to fuck around on me since I wasn't giving him anything at home. Elizabeth didn't have a man to love her. But now she does, but he's my man. But I've agreed to do anything to keep him. Oh, I'm so confused. But my ass burns, and despite what I'll admit to him, he made me so hot while he was spanking me that I almost came. It hurt worse than anything I've ever experienced, but somehow, it made me want to ride his cock. Oh, shit, Elizabeth looks sexy with his cock in her mouth.

Before she quite realized what she was doing, she reached over and gently took one of Elizabeth's breasts in her hand. Moving closer, she slid her fingers onto the nipple and gently twisted and pulled the way her sister liked. Elizabeth moaned, which seemed to trigger an accompanying moan from Quinton as well. His legs quivered.

"That's enough," he managed to get out without gasping. "It's been too many years since I've had my dick sucked. Although I want to come in your mouth, I'm going to come in your pussy. Both of you get on the bed. On your knees, Elizabeth."

"Quinton," Virginia tentatively said. Then quickly, "I don't want to get my ass spanked again, but why don't we just make love for our first time together?"

"No. You put it in for me," Quinton said as he stepped behind his sister-in-law who had positioned herself on hands and knees with her ass near the side of the bed.

Virginia's face flushed with embarrassment and anger, but before she could respond, the big man said, "Thirty, Virginia. Thirty is the next stop. If that doesn't work, then I'll move into another bedroom, and remember, I won't be sleeping alone."

Virginia reached for his cock, started to glare at him, anyway, when, "Lick her pussy for a while. I want her wet when I push in for the first time. She hasn't had a man inside her in five years. I don't want to hurt her."

Virginia desperately wanted to spit out that he hadn't seemed to have any problem hurting her, but thought better of it before her mouth got her into more trouble. Still holding his cock, she moved closer to her sister, who looked around with a strange expression on her face.

Feeling her desire pick up, she kissed around Elizabeth's outer lips a little before slowly trailing her tongue the length of her pussy. Elizabeth sighed out a quiet, but drawn out, "Yesss."

The smell of Elizabeth's pussy and the taste of her suddenly-flooding juices ramped up Virginia's desire. Holding Quinton's cock and licking Elizabeth's pussy at the same time was becoming awkward. Plus, she desperately wanted to touch her own pussy. The thought of doing that with Quinton watching both embarrassed and excited her. Instead, she licked Elizabeth's clit. Elizabeth squealed and pushed her pussy back into her sister's face.

"That's enough," Quinton said, but had to repeat himself before Virginia noticed.

Quinton moved closer, his wife still grasping his cock. "Put it in for me, Virginia. This is the way it's going to be from now on. Jeff says it will work, and Diana has talked to you about it. Talking to her about a multiple marriage is obviously the reason you wanted to come up here. Kiss my cock and put it in for me. Now."

Virginia looked up at the man she had married, remembering the good years before she had gotten so messed up about Scott's death and began to feel guilty about having a man when her sister didn't have one. She knew that she had been messed up — still was. But she also knew Quinton. He would do just as he said, and she was the cause of it. Fighting to keep tears from her eyes, she turned his dick toward her mouth.

Pushing her lips past the flare of the head, she sucked lightly, realizing just how long it had been. Why had she ever stopped doing this? She had always loved to do it, and Quinton had licked her to thousands of orgasms over the years. The feel of his throbbing cock in her mouth ramped up her desire of old — something she had pushed down in her mind every time it started to happen. Forgetting the present for a moment, she dropped into old habits as she tugged on the base of his cock like he liked while she sucked harder.

"Wa ... wait," he managed to get out. The experience of his wife sucking his cock with Elizabeth's pretty pussy seemingly staring back at him as she propped her forearms on the bed and arched her ass up toward him almost made him lose it.

"Put it in your sister," he said, trying to steady his voice.

Virginia looked into her husband's eyes once more, wondering where this would all end. Seeing the determination there, she moved out of the way. As he took a half step and pushed his body forward, she guided his cock to her sister's entrance. As the tip of his cock touched, Virginia moved his dick a little aligning it better with Elizabeth's hole.

"Oh, my," Elizabeth hissed. Then as Quinton pushed the head past her pussy lips, "Oh, shit. Wait Quinton. Oh, shit, that thing feels..."

"Damn, you're tight, Woman. I thought you gals played around. Don't you use a dildo or something?"

"Un uh," Elizabeth said, shaking her head, her hair streaming down in her face.

"No, we have clitoral vibrators," Virginia broke in, "but the only thing we put inside us is our fingers."

"Damn, it's like going up a virgin," he said, pulling back a little before pushing again.

As he pushed harder, Elizabeth grunted, unconsciously moving her ass forward a little to ease the pressure of the intruder inside her. "Wait, Quinton. I need to get..."

Tate put one arm around her waist and a hand on her shoulder. Pushing harder, he slid his dick up her until it hit bottom.

"Ugggh," she said sucking in air. "Wait. Don't move. Let me get used to it. It's been so long and I've never had anything like..."

Quinton pulled back about half way and shoved in again.

"Oh, shit," Elizabeth said, holding her head up, her eyes wide. "I think I'm gonna... come," she wailed as she wiggled her ass.

"Oh, shit," Quinton unconsciously repeated. He rapidly stroked a few times, then slammed hard into her as she bucked and wailed. His orgasm seemed to start in his toes, then consumed him. It felt like his prostate was trying to spew itself out his dick. His balls slammed up tight against the base of his dick and ached as they added their sperm to the torrent of semen that was spewing out the end of his cock.

Elizabeth made a gurgling sound and slammed her pussy back against him. She was trembling so hard that he was afraid she was having some kind of convulsion. After another violent shiver, she collapsed her upper body on the bed, leaving him holding her ass to him as the last of his sperm poured into her.

Dizzy, he fell forward onto her pushing her flat on the bed, but managing to keep most of his weight on his forearms.

Virginia pulled her sister's hair away from the side of her face. "She's ... unconscious. I've never seen her do that. She's never fainted when we're making love. I hope she's okay..."

"She's fine," Quinton managed to croak. "She just fainted. Hell, I almost did too. Shit. That was the best orgasm I've ever had," he said without thinking.

"Well, that makes me feel really special," his wife said, well on her way to having her feelings hurt.

"Oh, shit. Don't start, Baby. I guess that wasn't very tactful ... as in not at all. Remember how long it has been since I've had any pussy, let alone with you fucking me back. She put her all into it. Well, what few strokes there was of it. She hasn't had any in five years, and I damn sure haven't had much. Plus the two of you together."

Unconsciously, he half-stroked his still-hard cock in the unconscious woman. "My dick is still hard. Unless you're going to bitch me out about fucking your sister, and then get your ass whipped again, you might consider riding this thing," he said, pulling out and turning onto his back.

Virginia moved over beside her husband, but didn't offer to mount him. "It's a bit ... Well, you just fucked my sister and had the best orgasm you've ever had. That makes me feel..."

"Are you going to keep bitching until I light up your ass again? If you're jealous of her, why don't you see if you can put a better fucking on me? Crawl on, dammit."

Virginia didn't want her ass any sorer than it already was, and watching her husband fuck her sister had her so excited that her pussy was literally dripping. Still...

Quinton reached over and grabbed her by her hips. Lifting her like she weighed nothing, he positioned her over his cock. When he sat her down, they weren't quite lined up. "Better guide me in, Babe."

Virginia lined his cock up with her entrance, and he dropped her.

"Ooomph," she gasped as his dick seemed to rearrange her womb.

Before she could scold him, he drew back and thrust hard into her again. Holding her hips, he set up a rhythm, causing her breasts to bounce deliciously. "Oh, crap, Quinton," she gasped as he picked up the pace, his fucking her making a warbling sound to her voice as he pounded into her.

With one hand on her ass and the other holding a breast, he arched up harder as he stripped her nipple.

"Oh, Quinton. Shit. Oh, Baby, I uh..."

Her first orgasm hit — the first he could remember her having with him in five years. Between his strength and thrusting up into her, he bounced her on his dick for a good ten minutes. Her hair had long since fallen into her face, her upper body flushed a deep rose, one orgasm turning into the next until she couldn't think. Finally, his spunk geysered into her. The flutter of his warm semen against her cervix did it.

She awoke later with no idea how much time had passed. She was lying on her side snuggled to her husband. Raising her head a little, she could make out her sister on the other side of him. She raised her arm to try to look at her watch, but the night-light in the room wasn't bright enough. To turn her watch light on, she would have to move her other arm from between her husband and herself. It wasn't worth the effort. She snuggled her head back on his chest and drifted off again.

Later, she awakened to a rocking motion and sounds. As consciousness came back, she realized that she was lying almost against Elizabeth — well almost against Elizabeth and her husband. Elizabeth was lying on her back with Quinton between her legs. His mouth was glued to Elizabeth's mouth and he was thrusting hard into her.

Quinton pulled his mouth from Elizabeth's, braced himself higher on his arms and sped up his thrusts. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around Quinton's hips and thrust up at him. The big man groaned and pounded into her. His rhythm faltered as he short-stroked a few times, pulled all the way back, then slammed forward and held.

When Elizabeth felt his come spurt into her, she arched upward, locking herself to him with all the strength she had in her legs. Quinton bellowed like a bull, his head arched back as he empted his balls, Elizabeth squealing. Finally, they collapsed.

As Virginia's orgasm peaked, she realized that she had been rubbing her pussy.

After several minutes, Quinton's breathing had returned to near enough normal that he could kiss Elizabeth for short periods of time. After a while, he pulled out of her and settled between Virginia's legs. "Round two," he said as he shoved his dick in.

-------

The phone rang and Virginia turned over to answer it.

"It's five thirty," Diana said, her voice cheery. "Breakfast is at six."

"Okay, thanks," Virginia mumbled. Shutting the phone off, it took two tries to get it back into the cradle.

Moving toward the side of the bed, she hissed out a breath. Her ass burned. Her pussy felt as if a truck had run through it.

Standing, she snapped on the light as Quinton threw back the sheet. His dick was standing tall. Her husband motioned for her.

"No way," she quietly said. "I'm too sore. Damn, Quinton. How many times did you come last night?" Eyeing the bed and the multiple wet spots, she added, "We've got to find some more sheets. We can't leave the bed like this."

Quinton, who had been thinking about a nice blowjob to start his day, said, "I saw some sheets in the closet. But if we clean up this place, I'm going to get a blowjob when we get home. I'm not going to work with a hard-on."

Virginia hesitated while her sister grinned at her.

"Don't even think about saying no, Baby," Tate said. "Just remember. A good spanking this morning will hurt a lot worse on that sore ass."

Elizabeth's giggling didn't help any.

Virginia wisely shut her mouth and started for the bathroom. Two steps later, she grabbed her pussy as a gush of semen came out. "Strip that bed," she said over her shoulder. "I'll get some new sheets as soon as I let a little of this out." She knew she should be pissed, but her body felt good — well other than a sore ass and pussy. But she had her man back — in spades.



-------

Chapter 94

Thursday Morning — September 26

As Quinton, Virginia and Elizabeth walked down the hallway and neared the kitchen, the Sheriff grabbed both women and hugged them to him. They put and arm around him, snuggling, but just before the door, Virginia pulled back a little. "We can't go in there with us all cuddled up like this. They'll know."

"Sure will," Tate laughed.

"But ... that would be embarrassing," she tried to argue. "I don't want them to know that the three of us slept together."

Stopping just short of the door, Quinton turned to his wife. "Oh come on. For crying out loud, you came up here to ask the ... hell whatever they call her — the head woman of a multiple marriage — for advice. What the crap do you think they thought we did last night — play tiddlywinks?"

Virginia blushed. "I know that. It's just ... We don't have to advertise it, do we?"

"Hell, yes, we do," he grinned, pushing the swinging door open with his foot as he grabbed both women around the waist again and herded them into the kitchen.

Diana was wearing jeans and a tight blue top with a frilly bib apron tied around her. "Well, you guys are looking bright and chipper this morning," she said turning toward them as she held a big baking sheet of biscuits destined for the oven.

"I am, at least," Tate replied with a grin. "But I think my women are a little embarrassed."

"Quinton," Virginia scolded, drawing the name out as Elizabeth chuckled.

Diana slid the tray into an oven, closed the door, made some adjustments to the settings, and quickly walked over to them. "No need to be embarrassed around here," she said, hugging both women, then after a slight hesitation, grabbed Tate and hugged him hard.

Pushing back from him a little and looking up into his face she said, "You look a lot less stressed than you did last night."

Tate grinned back at her. "Thanks to you and Jeff, we got some things worked out."

Diana glanced at Virginia's red face and the smile on Elizabeth's.

Trying desperately to divert the conversation, Virginia nodded toward the obvious breakfast preparations. "What can we do to help?"

Smiling, Diana led the two women to the counter where the big coffee maker was. "The others are cleaning up the bedroom and I came on to the kitchen to start things. Here, I'll show you how to get this going."

Glancing back at Quinton, Diana continued, "You can sit with us, or sit in the living room, if you prefer. The guys went out to the garage to check on something. They'll be back shortly and we'll bring coffee over to the living room."

Quinton, sure that Diana would want to talk to the women, took her hint and said, "I'll wait in the living room. The view out that big window always attracts me."

Diana offered the women aprons like the one she had, but both refused. "We still have on the clothes we wore up here last night," Virginia said. "No use in an apron."

"I seldom wear one unless I'm making biscuits or doing something else with flour. Well ... unless we want to tease Jeff by just wearing aprons and nothing else," she giggled.

"Hmmm. That's an idea," Elizabeth grinned. "I'll bet that would lead to interesting things."

"You're entirely too ... easygoing about this," Virginia said, a slight frown on her face.

"Why shouldn't I be? I've always loved him, but never thought I would get to make love with him."

"Yeah, well, you weren't the one to get your ass blis..." she wound down as she realized what her temper had blurted out in front of Diana.

"Ohhhh. Did he spank your ass?" Diana grinned just to see Virginia blush again. Sounds like he must have taken some of Jeff's advice.

"He was awesome," Elizabeth broke in.

"The hell you say," Virginia spewed out, indignantly. "It wasn't your ass that he was beating up on."

"Oh, quit bitching, Sister," Elizabeth said, kissing her cheek. "I could smell you. You came, or came close to it while he was spanking you. You loved it."

"I did not. It hurt."

"Yeah? If it was so bad, why did you faint when he fucked you later on?"

"Well. You did, too."

Elizabeth hugged her sister, laughing. "I'm just teasing you, but you know that you loved it. Besides, that was the first time anything has been inside me bigger than a couple of fingers in five years. And it was the man I love — with my sister watching." Suddenly grabbing a startled Diana to hug her again, Elizabeth continued, "And it wouldn't have happened without you. Thank you."

"Oh, you three would have gotten around to it sooner or later. It just happened a little sooner because you had realized that we had a multiple marriage."

Before the conversation could continue, the door burst open as the rest of Jeff's wives came in with the girls in the lead, having also acquired Joyce, Caitlin, Carla and Jessica. Everyone was laughing and cutting up.

"My goodness; they're happy," Virginia said.

"Sure. We're all happy. Joyce and Caitlin are going to join us in marriage tomorrow night. Also, Evie called me late last night. Dave finally gave up to the inevitable. He kept trying to put Linda off because of worrying that they hadn't known each other long enough, and the age difference. Anyway, I'll let Evie tell you about that. But Linda is going to join in their marriage tomorrow night, also."

"Oh, my," both sisters said at almost the same time.

"You're invited, of course. It's at eight, but you need to be here by seven thirty to see Jeff meet his brides in the hallway before their meal. I'm not sure how Evie intends to do things. We haven't discussed it in detail yet. But we are going to have a reception after the weddings this time."

Virginia put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, my goodness. The girls will be home. What about..." she said, turning to Elizabeth.

"So, swear them to secrecy and bring them," Diana said. "We won't be breaking any laws; we just don't want the world knowing that we go far enough with our mating to formalize the relationship the way we do. As much as all of us have been seen together in public, I'll bet that a lot of people have figured that Jeff has a little something special going."

A look passed over Elizabeth's face as she thought about Rachel and Cindy seeing and being around the multiple marriage — knowing the way they felt about Quinton. And with another couple adding Linda to their marriage, she grinned at her sister. You might be in for some more shocks in the future, my beloved sister. And I'm certainly not backing off from what we started last night. My Scott is dead. I'm not going to give up the man I love even more than I did him.

Evie, Linda, and Alesha came in laughing and talking about Linda's wedding.

The controlled chaos — as it seemed to the two sisters — swirled around them as the breakfast routine started. Soon they were caught up in the wedding plans, their laughter joining in with the others.

-------

Virginia opened her purse as they turned onto the first county road below the driveway. "What's that?" Quinton asked glancing at a rectangular box that she had just taken out.

Virginia blushed in spite of herself. "Well, uh ... Arlene said that she noticed that we were 'walking funny.' She gave us this tube of vaginal cream that she called..."

"Called what?" Tate laughed as he slowed for a curve on the steep mountain road.

"Pussy cream," Virginia blurted as Quinton grinned.

"Sister, when have you started being so modest?" Elizabeth asked. "Surely you've been married to this beautiful man long enough to say the word in front of him." Sitting in the back seat, Elizabeth caught Quinton's eye in the mirror. "Arlene said that they could only find it in one drugstore in Denver. They had bought so much of it that the salespeople there were starting to make comments. So now they buy it by the case on the net. It's supposed to work better than any of the other vaginal creams they have found. It eases the stinging and shrinks the swelling."

"'Beautiful guy?'" he laughed. "I don't think I've ever been called beautiful, before." Chuckling again, he repeated, 'Pussy cream?'" One guy and seven women, and they need pussy cream? Damn, Jeff must be more man than I gave him credit for."

"Well, uh, Diana told us that he was an Alpha Prime," Virginia said, wondering why she had become so hesitant with her husband.

"Here we go again," Tate laughed. "First Alpha Males, now Alpha Primes..."

"Bullshit, Quinton. Don't start. How many times did you fuck us last night?" Virginia said, her voice changing.

"Well, I don't..."

Surprising them, Virginia took another tack. "Yeah, you 'don't' because you lost count. My sister doesn't hurt any more. She walks without a limp for the first time in years. You and I used to ... fuck like minks when we were first married, but even then you couldn't come that many times. Jeff did something to us, alright. I can certainly believe that. But I'm also beginning to believe that there might really be something to this Alpha Male thing. Releasing atrophied abilities, or something like that, didn't you say? There were puddles of come all over the bed this morning, and you certainly didn't have any trouble taking care of both of us. God, I wonder if the rest of the stuff she told us is really true."

"Don't take God's name in vain," Tate absently admonished as his mind went over some of the things Jeff had told him. " ... And I thought you were against all this."

"Who said I was taking His name in vain?" Virginia said, then, "I didn't say I was against any of it. I just ... couldn't relate to their multiple marriage. But it doesn't look like I have any choice. I love my sister and I love you. I told you I would do anything to save our marriage. It's just ... going to take some getting used to. And I didn't like having my ass beat..."

"Virginia, I didn't 'beat' your ass. I spanked you. And probably will again," he chuckled.

"I don't like that, Quinton."

"So, get over this bullshit jealousy. If I hadn't spanked your ass, we would still be debating what to do about the three of us — if we had even gotten that far. You knew damn good and well what Diana was going to tell you before we even started up here — at least as far as the multiple marriage thing goes. You enjoyed the hell out of last night. If you're going to be my Queen Bitch like Diana says, you need to start thinking about making things go smoothly among all three of us, and quit bitching."

"Uh, Quinton, I don't mean to ... bitch. I told you why I was so jealous..."

"Yeah, you did. Now we need to get on with our marriage. I told you that I wasn't going back to jerking off in the shower. Both of you are my women — both. Now, tell me about the pussy cream. Are you two really that messed up?"

Virginia glanced back at her sister who was grinning from ear to ear. "Uh, Arlene said to sit in the hot tub, then use this stuff. I'm sore and swollen. Elizabeth is a good bit more so. Actually, she's about wrecked."

Quinton glanced in the mirror as he spoke to Elizabeth. "Sorry. I didn't mean to do that," he said, worriedly. "If I hadn't been so ravenous this morning I would have paid more attention in the shower, so I didn't even notice. All I could think of was getting to breakfast. I can't remember when I've ever been that hungry."

"Must have been all the come you put out. We're not complaining," Elizabeth quipped from the back seat, "At least I'm sure not. She's just trying to put a guilt trip on you so you won't see the shit-eating grin on her face."

Amazing him, Virginia giggled a little. Reaching over to put her hand on her husband's arm, she continued, "I'm not saying that I liked the spanking. But I do have to admit that I've never come that many times before, and I've surely never fainted while making love, either."

"Making love?" Quinton teased. "I thought we were fucking."

"Yeah, right," Elizabeth chuckled. "Probably most of it was, but you did spend time just holding and tenderly kissing us. Don't look now Big Boy, but I think a lot of the things you did to us were done with love, at least."

Tate winked at her in the mirror as they drove on.

-------

The Sheriff and his family had left shortly after breakfast because he had to get to work. Jeff, Fred and Dave had adjourned to the living room with Jeff pushing a serving cart with coffee and a tray of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls.

Arranging themselves in a rough circle with the serving cart nearby, they relaxed as the women finished cleanup. Feeling a little guilty, Fred remarked, "I've been helping Carla and Jessica with cleanup after meals. They flat refuse to let me do anything else in the kitchen, though."

Jeff poured coffee. After handing out their drinks, he sat. "When it was just Diana, Arlene and me, they would let me help put the dishes in the washer and straighten up, but once there were more of them, they just kicked me out of the kitchen. Hell, I'm not on their wavelength or something. I just get in the way. When I kept trying to help, they set Jennie up to tell me that my job was to eat what they cooked. They would take care of the cleaning as well as the cooking. Again telling me that I was in the way. Since I about had tread marks up my back, I seized the better part of valor and got the hell out of the kitchen. Unless you're on that wavelength of theirs, you need a traffic cop to be able to walk through there without getting run over when they're preparing a meal."

Hastily swallowing a bite of roll, Dave added, "Jeff's right. Standing in the kitchen is a great way to be run over when they're cooking or cleaning up. They all seem to know what everyone else is doing. They never even bump into each other, but that doesn't go for us. I used to always help Evie — still do in our apartment — but not in that kitchen when they're all in the zone."

Fred chuckled. "Listen to us. We've beaten this dead horse before. We don't have any idea how the women do it, and we probably never will."

Jeff and Dave chuckled with him, then Fred pulled off a large chunk of cinnamon roll, nodding at Jeff's big piece as he did so. "I know that whatever you did to us is the reason, but I still can't believe that I can eat all this food and not gain weight. Gain weight? Heck, I'm still losing the flab and it's coming back as muscle. I carried cinder blocks to the bricklayer, and one day when his helper was sick, I mixed mortar and kept him supplied with it as well. That would have killed me a couple of months ago.

"The next morning, instead of blisters, I had calluses on my hands. My back was a little stiff to start with, but the stiffness went away in the first thirty minutes the next day."

"I told you that you didn't have to do that, Fred," Dave said past a mouthful of roll, then after he swallowed, "The foreman would have shifted someone around to fill in for the helper."

"Oh, I know that," Fred said, grinning at Dave. "But I had already pressure washed all the equipment and done most everything around the farm that I could think of to do. I was bored and was feeling guilty about just standing around while those guys and gals worked their asses off."

"Well, I can relate to that. I'm prone to do it, myself. But don't feel obligated to do it. We're supposed to be working for you. Not the other way around."

The conversation lapsed for a moment, then, "Has Carla had any luck finding replacement stock?"

"Not really. Oh, she found a few yearlings, but she hasn't gone to a sale yet. She says that she's waiting for all the construction to be completed. Besides, she says that the price will come down a little later in the fall."

Jeff looked over at his friend. "So, when are you going to get your RV? You mentioned it the other day."

"Well, the women and I have been talking about that. Seems like we're kind of in a holding pattern until the barn and riding stables are completed, so I suggested that we fly over this weekend.

"I can pick up the RV any time. The dealer is open all day Saturday as well as Sunday afternoons. We can get a cab at the airport and swing by Mark's for my car. We'll drive it to the dealers, then hook it to the back of the RV for towing, load our stuff in the RV, and we'll be ready to roll. The dealer has it fueled up and everything checked out. Mark told me he had been starting my car and letting it run for a few minutes every week, so I shouldn't have any problem there."

"I'll get Bill on the phone and give him a heads up. When do you want to go? Saturday morning?"

"Wait, Jeff," Fred said as Jeff reached for the phone. "The use of the plane was for you and your family..."

"So, what the heck? You're family, and Frank knows that. Trust me; there won't be any problem."

"No, Jeff. Wait. We've already made reservations for a ten o'clock flight. We got a deal on first class and everything. Jessica has never even flown. I really rather do it this way. And Carla is already beside herself with worry about how much money you have spent on the farm and ranch. She also said there had been another big deposit in the farm account."

"Yeah, well, I told the accountant to keep the account up. Besides, she's going to be buying a lot of stock in the near future. Can't have a ranch without cattle. The corporation bought the property and pays your salaries as well. The place will make money one of these days, and if it doesn't ... no big deal. I can't seem to spend money without it coming right back, anyway." Jeff hesitated for a moment. "We've already talked to Carla about this, but I'll have Diana reiterate it. Fuck, I don't want Carla uptight. She's supposed to be enjoying this, not worrying about money."

"Well, she is enjoying it. She's just worried that it will take so long to show a profit after you bought all the equipment, not to say anything about what you spent on her mortgage and the Thompsons' property."

"You saw me when I came in your bedroom last night?" At Fred's nod, Jeff continued, "With all the comments Carla and Jessica made at breakfast about how good they felt, it's obvious that Little One's healing worked on them. Barring accidents or something violent happening to us, we'll all have a very long time to enjoy that good health. So, Carla isn't constrained to just a few years to show a profit. The corporation certainly isn't going to push her to do so, and she's going to have many years of excellent health in which to do as she pleases. She needs to quit worrying about money and enjoy life."

"I'll try to calm her down, but it wouldn't hurt for Diana to talk to her again."

"Okay. Next subject. Where are you going when you pick up the RV? And don't tell me that you're coming straight back."

"Actually Carla started out talking about that very thing, but Jessica joined with me. We're going to sightsee a bit before we head back, and while we're heading back, as well. I think we'll go south to begin with, maybe show them the white beach at Pensacola and some of the others. I thought they would enjoy Silver Springs with the glass bottom boats, the mermaids at Weeki Wachee, Cypress Gardens, Bush Gardens, hell, Disney World. Brenda and I have seen it all, but it will be fun to show it to Carla and Jessica. It's time they forgot about work for a while. All those years of unrelenting seven days a week on that farm. There will be plenty of work to go around when we get back, but with all the automation and the money they have to work with now, that work is going to be a lot easier. And I'm going to see that those two have time off to do the things they have missed in life."

"Damn," Dave laughed. "Now he has me wanting to go."

"So. Go with us. We could have a ball."

Dave chuckled at Fred's invitation, wondering what Carla and Jessica would think of it. Not much, he decided. "No way. You need to be alone with your women. But one of these days, Evie, Linda and I are going to have a look at Florida. That should really be a change from the Rockies."

Just as Fred started to respond, "There's already going to be four of us," a voice said in his head. It was all he could do to keep the startled look off his face.

-------

Later that morning, the caravan rolled into the dress shop's small parking lot. Jeff got out of his vehicle to stand as his women gathered around him. "Everyone have their weapons?" he asked, knowing the answer but having to make sure.

Diana smiled at him. "Yes, Dear," she teased. "We know the drill. We don't walk outside the shop for anything. The owner has already said that she is going to lock the doors and put out her closed sign for the afternoon. She and her assistants are ours for the rest of the day."

"Baby," Jeff said, hugging her close. "I know that I sound like an old mother hen, but just because it's been a couple of months since Hagewood, we don't want to become lax. That's what he's probably counting on. Of course, chances are that he's moved on and forgotten us — but then, again, maybe not. If any of you get hurt, I..."

"We won't, Jeff. If the son-of-a-bitch comes through that door, it will be like those two fools that chose to rob a cop bar. I promise you that there will be too many bullet holes to count. Now you two go have some fun. We'll call you thirty minutes or so before we're ready to leave."

"What about lunch?"

"We've already talked to the owner about that. We're going to order pizza. She has a break room we can use. Trust me. With the money she's already made off all the dresses she's made for us, plus another four today, she's really happy to make her place available to us for the afternoon. And she knows that I tip well."

"Well, the dresses were perfect. Okay, I'll try not to worry, but you promise me that you'll call if anything unusual happens — anything."

Diana grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard. "I promise. Now get out of here. We've got work to do."

Evie kissed Dave. Linda looked around to see if there were anyone watching, then came to tiptoes to briefly kiss him on the lips. "I can't wait," she whispered.

Dave got back into the Expedition as if he were in a trance. Jeff chuckled as he pulled into traffic. "You gonna make it my friend?"

"Shit. Laugh at me if you will," Dave said staring ahead, "but I'm scared to death. I wasn't nearly this uptight when Evie and I got married. Fuck, being more upset about Linda than I was about marrying Evie will probably get me in trouble as well. I don't know anything about having two wives. I'm going to fuck up and have both of them mad at me..."

"Oh, give me a break. You're worrying about having a second wife. At the same time you're marrying her, I'm going for numbers eight and nine, for goodness sake. You're not going to get any sympathy out of me," Jeff laughed.

"Oh, shit, Jeff. I keep expecting Evie to wake up and scream 'no way' at the top of her lungs. She's certainly never been as jealous as Tate's wife, but when we first realized that you had several wives, she damn sure made it plain that hers was the only pussy I was going to get. I can't believe she's changed. She insisted that I ask Linda to marry me. Hell, she more or less, set it up. But that was a week ago. This is now. I don't want to hurt Evie. She's not just my wife — she's my best friend, too. Has been since before we were married. I've never strayed — never really been tempted. Now I'm going to make love to another woman. A woman much younger than Evie..."

"The changes have been gradual," Jeff said as he turned onto the interstate ramp. "Evie is responding to the healer. She looks younger, and she seems to glow with health. The Queen Bitch syndrome has kicked in. Hell, at least she has a ... pattern; I guess you could call it, with my wives. Evie knows that it can work. All she has to do is to look at my women. Diana and Evie are becoming more than just best friends, according to Diana. Oh, I don't mean they're lovers. But they're both Queen Bitches. They have a bond that's a little different. Maybe, a lot different."

"Yeah, I've noticed. Hell, Evie thinks the sun rises and sets in Diana — not that she doesn't love the rest of your wives as well..."

"That's what I mean. Diana tried to explain it to me. I think they can 'feel' each other in a way that's similar to the way my wives can 'feel' each other. All that said, I seriously expect that the transition to two wives in your household will be a lot smoother than you expect. And your ... body will compensate, if that part is bothering you."

"God, I hope you're right about the transition. I'm not as worried about being able to, uh ... perform as I would have been a few months ago. The healer seems to have taken care of that."

After turning off the interstate, they were quiet for a while, "Uh, I need to get my mind off this. Take a right at the next traffic light. Then it's two blocks down on the right," Dave said motioning.

A couple of minutes later, "Pull up to the main gate. I'll show you around the yard before we go into the office."

Dave waved at the security guard and they rolled through. Jeff stopped a hundred feet in and just looked around. "My friend, you've been fucking with me," Jeff said, sotto voice.

"What? No. Why would I do that?"

"Shit, I thought Henson Construction was a little outfit, well, maybe mid-sized, I guess. I mean, you did build the retreat, and you mentioned building strip malls and high-end homes, but shit, Dave," Jeff said gesturing to the square block of cranes, dozers, trucks — big trucks, a myriad of equipment all neatly parked, plus the big warehouse and adjoining office building. "I don't even know what some of this stuff does."

Turning to face Dave who had a grin from ear to ear, Jeff continued, "You were working with a crew when I first met you at the retreat. What the fuck? How many people do you employ, anyway?"

"Well, a few," Dave laughed. "And why shouldn't I be working with a crew at the retreat? That place was special to Evie and me even before you, Diana and Arlene came on the scene. I just ... wanted to be part of it. And when I met you and your family, I told Evie that I was going to be there for the duration. I have foremen on each job. Capable people. I have people who can bid a job, and some damn good software to help them; although, Evie does a lot of the bidding herself."

"Shit, Dave. This is embarrassing. I mean, I offered you and Evie a job, for goodness sakes. It's a wonder you didn't laugh at me. And you took the darned job. I..."

"Whoa, there my friend," Dave said as he put his hand on Jeff's arm. "I love my job, and it darn sure pays well. Besides, I still have my company, minus a lot of the headaches. They're Korey's now — well most of them, anyway."

"But ... look at all this equipment. Do you own all this?"

"Lock stock and barrel, and there is a lot more out on jobs. See that big crane at the end of the block? I rented that to work on the retreat. That mother was a bitch to get up the driveway, even in pieces. When we were through with it, I took the profit we made from building the retreat and bought the crane. Hell, I rent it out now. The rental on it was killing me, so when I had a little extra change jingling around in my pocket from building the retreat, I invested it in that chunk of steel. Evie and I have put most of our profits back into expanding the company since Dad turned it over to us. To be entirely honest with you, sometimes we put almost everything back into it.

"Heck, Dad did the same about expanding. He put practically everything back into expansion for many years. We're big enough now to take on most any job, but we've agreed to hold back on trying to get bigger before we wind up overextending ourselves."

"I still say you were fucking with me. Heck, you were probably laughing your ass off on the way over here."

"Well, Evie did make me promise to repeat word for word everything you said when you saw the lot," Dave chuckled.

"I still can't believe you took the job as my project manager. You and Evie must have had a good laugh over that."

"Jeff, don't you ever think that. We were both tickled to get the job. More so now. We take our jobs seriously. And besides, our personal checking account has more money in it now than it has ever had, with the obscene amount of money you're paying us. And backing a little away from the company will probably add years to my life. I was seriously way too involved. It's Korey's worry now. Oh, I help out, and will continue to do so, but Korey is a good manager. And he has the money and backing to withstand, with my company, the things that sucked him under with his. He's looking for an assistant, and I'm going to interview the last three applicants he narrows it down to. Using my Alpha abilities," he said in a teasing voice.

"Joke all you like, but we both know that is one of the main reasons Henson Construction is what it is today," Jeff said as he motioned to the equipment yard and the office building. "Little One enhanced or awakened a lot of your abilities, but you had something a little extra to begin with — all of us did. Now we have to learn to use what Little One has awakened in us."



-------

Chapter 95


THURSDAY MIDDAY — SEPTEMBER 26

 ... Dave grinned at him. "Pull over there in my slot," he said motioning to the parking area beside the building. I have some things I want to talk over with you — well, with you and my office manager.

Inside, a few minutes later, Dave ushered Jeff into a large corner office. There were two nice desks with high-backed leather chairs behind them — one chair much larger than the other. A long conference table paralleled one wall with ten chairs flanking it. The walls were paneled in a dark oak, but there were family pictures hung about and the obvious touch of a woman as well. Four leather chairs that subtly matched the executive chairs whose desk they faced, looked as comfortable as any Jeff had seen, with a smaller couch close by.

Several filing cabinets took up a corner, and a doorway opened into what Jeff presumed to be a bathroom. The carpet was an array of earth colors that blended with the colors of the office as well as being functional as people walked in from the surrounding equipment yard. Jeff could easily picture construction workers gathered around the big conference table, or sitting around the coffee table discussing a project. Although furnished nicely, it was definitely a working office.

Both desks had the usual accompaniments of that working office atmosphere, in addition to matching computer screens and keyboards. Two high-speed color laser printers sat behind the desks near the big picture window that looked out on the yard. One of the printers was obviously for extra wide paper. A plotter sat in a corner.

"Have a seat, Jeff. I'll get..."

"Well, the prodigal son returns," a woman in her mid fifties said as she walked in. Standing five foot three or so, dark auburn hair starting to gray, her body lean with small breasts and startlingly blue eyes that were sparkling with amusement, she carried three cups of coffee on a small tray. "If you had called ahead, I would have had your coffee maker going," she said, nodding to a small table in a corner where Dave and Evie's coffee pot sat.

"Carmen, I've told you that you don't have to wait on..."

"Oh, hush. You have poured me far more coffee over the years than I ever have for you," she said, sitting the tray on a small coffee table. "Now who is this hunk of manhood you've brought with you today?" she asked as she stood back erect.

Laughing, "This is Jeff Matthews, my boss. Boss, this person — next to my wife — has done more for me than probably anyone in this world..."

"Oh, now that's laying it on a little thick," she teased Dave, interrupting him and giving him a quick hug. "I'm Carmen DeSantos," she said, turning and putting out her hand to Jeff.

Grinning, instantly liking the woman, Jeff shook the proffered hand, not surprised at all as he felt her firm grip.

"So, you're the one who keeps him straight?" Jeff said.

"Well, Evie and I conspire on occasion. But mostly we manage to keep him tame. I've been anxious to meet the man who could hire him away from his own company."

"Well, it's not exactly like that," Jeff laughed as Dave ushered them to seats that he quickly arranged into a rough circle in front of the coffee table.

"He made us an offer we couldn't refuse," Dave laughed as he slid creamer and sweetener to Carmen. "He moved us into an apartment in the retreat on his mountain and pays us more than we are worth. We live in luxury beyond anything we could ever afford. Plus he became the closest friend I've ever had outside that little spitfire I'm married to, and you."

"And where is this 'little spitfire' that you've so inappropriately called that sweet wife of yours?"

"Well, she's at the ... dress shop with Diana," Dave said.

-------

In another part of the office, Carmen's eighteen-year-old daughter, Kimberly, entered the ladies' restroom. Quickly stripping off her blouse, she slipped on the sweater that she had recently spent two weeks' pay on just for this moment. A pale blue, the soft material molded itself to her body, displaying her breasts nicely. Leaving the top two buttons undone, she checked her hair and retouched her makeup.

Just enough to make me seem a little more mature, she thought as she stepped back to better view herself. Turning, she checked how her skirt looked in the mirror. A few inches above the knee, it was office professional, yet displayed her legs and tight rear well.

I don't know why I keep doing this. He might as well be family. He probably thinks of me as his daughter. He's married to someone that I love almost as much as my mother, and I would never try to hurt Evie, but darnit, I want Dave to see me as a woman — a desirable woman. Dad stopped me from sitting in Dave's lap when I was fourteen — not "seemly" he said. But Dave is going to see me as a desirable woman today if there's any way I can make it happen. Momma isn't going to be pleased, but she'll just have to get over it.

Walking down the hallway to her desk, she picked up the box of doughnuts. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass of a picture. Oh, the sweater clings to my breasts like I'm nude. I hope I haven't overdone it. I don't want to come across as a slut.

Scolding the butterflies in her stomach, she put her shoulders back and walked toward Dave's office. Don't drop your teeth, Mom. Here I come.

-------

Carmen frowned at Dave, "Dress shop? Evie? I've only seen her in a dress a couple of times. She was beautiful each time, but I can't imagine her bothering to buy something at a dress shop. I would have thought that she would go for something off the rack somewhere since she's so partial to jeans and hates to wear a dress, anyway."

"Well, this is a, uh ... special occasion. And she does wear a dress sometimes when we play. Usually a cowgirl outfit, though. I'll tell you about the dress shop thing, or she can."

"Hmmm," Carmen said looking over the brim of her cup as she took a sip. "Maybe I need to give her a call. The place isn't the same without her bursting through here with a new project and getting all of us enthused."

"Uh. I'll tell her she needs to come by and spend some time with you. We've been in and out, though."

"Yeah. But you hardly light before you're gone again. We miss you around here."

"Yeah, and I miss being here." After a moment, "Carmen, I need you to tell Jeff the things that you've been telling me..." As the look crossed Carmen's face, Dave quickly added, "I have no secrets from this man. Saying that he is as close as a brother is an understatement. I need you to talk about what's been going on."

"Well, remember now, I'm not positive — far from it. I have no proof, just mostly a gut feeling that things aren't right."

Dave crossed his legs, leaned back and looked at Jeff. "I guess I need to give you a little background, Jeff, so that you'll better understand." Taking a sip of coffee and exchanging a glance with Carmen, he continued. "Carmen's husband, Joshua, came to work for my dad. It wasn't long before Dad promoted him to foreman, and shortly after that Carmen came into the fold. She started out as a billing clerk. She knows the running of this business, at least from the paperwork and management end, better than anyone.

"She has a phenomenal memory and remembers prices for practically every item that we buy. At a glance, she can tell us whether we're being overcharged, and tell us where we can buy it at the best price. You have no conception of how important that one thing is to us, and she does everything she's involved with the same way. Suppliers, contacts, trends, you name it; we depend on her to keep our office, purchasing and billing going without errors. I could go on, but she's already giving me the eye," Dave laughed.

"He might be exaggerating there just a wee bit," Carmen said, smiling.

"Actually, I'm not," Dave broke in. "But that said, I want you to tell Jeff, well, at least summarize what we've been talking about lately."

"Let me ask you something first," Jeff interrupted before Carmen could start. At Dave's nod, Jeff said, "I've noticed that you refer to the guy or gal in charge as a foreman. That's what you called them at the barn, and you mentioned it last night when you talked to Fred. Do you have crew chiefs, or site managers, or..."

Dave broke in, chuckling. "You're using more modern terms, I guess. Remember my dad started this outfit many years ago when he was a young man. Back then, the person in charge of the job or crew was the foreman. We've stuck with the term. Probably crew chief or site manager sounds a little more prestigious, and we've had a couple of the newer people make comments about it, but with what we pay compared to other companies in this field pay, they don't seem to mind putting up with the lesser-sounding title and keep that nice paycheck."

"A little like, 'I don't care what you call me, as long as you call me to dinner, ' huh?"

"Yep. About that. But seriously, the foreman with our company is in charge of the job, period. And ... there are crew foremen, as well, so when we need a distinction, the person in charge of the job will be called the job foreman if there's any confusion."

"Okay, thanks. Sorry for interrupting, Carmen."

Carmen laughed. "We're a bit old fashioned in some ways, I guess. Uhmmm, like not ripping the customer off, and other things as well," she said with a grin. "But back to what we were talking about, I'm actually hoping that I'm wrong about this. Dave has hired most of our people — well, our regular people. We often use subcontractors when we don't have enough regular personnel — regular crews — and over the years, some of the subcontractors' crews have come to work for us. Smaller contractors go under from time to time, and if they have been working for us fairly frequently for a long period of time, we occasionally wind up taking a crew into our company without Dave actually interviewing each of them the way he would our own personnel."

There was a knock at the door, which opened for a very pretty young brunette that had a striking resemblance to Carmen. It didn't take a rocket scientist to decide she was Carmen's daughter.

"I can see it runs in the family," Jeff said with a grin.

"It?" Carmen asked.

"Yeah. Your beauty has been passed down to your daughter."

The younger woman blushed as she set a box of doughnuts on the table in front of Dave. As she leaned over, Dave was awarded a breathtaking view of her cleavage, sans the two top buttons of her blouse. "Assorted," she told him, catching him looking as she remained in the bent-over position a couple of seconds longer than necessary.

"Nice to see you back today, Dave," she added, her voice soft and sensual as she smiled at him.

Carmen glanced at her pretty daughter, both amused when she noticed the sweater and a little saddened that Kimberly couldn't seem to get over her childhood crush on Dave.

"Good. Thank you, Kim," Carmen said, as her daughter stood, her eyes remaining fixed on Dave for a moment.

Turning to Jeff, Carmen said, "Jeff Matthews this is my blessing in life. My daughter, Kimberly. Better known around here as Kim," she smiled.

Jeff, having already stood, put out his hand to the petite, younger version of Carmen. Kimberly's hair was a little darker and her breasts possibly a little fuller, but the bright blue eyes were there and the same assurance that her mother projected as well. Boy, Dave never mentioned this little doll. That beautiful hair is almost as long as Diana's, and unless I've totally gone blind, she sure as heck thinks Dave is something else.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Matthews," Kim said. "We've heard a lot about you. All good, too," she said in a lilting voice with just a trace of amusement in it. Turning her glance to Dave again, her face softening, "As soon as I realized that was you in the SUV, I sent out for the doughnuts," she finished, blushing.

"Ah, my appetite precedes me," Dave laughed, trying to break a mood that he was somehow uncomfortable with. He caught himself as his eyes strayed back toward Kim's breasts, wishing he could see the rest of the beautiful orbs his eyes seemed to be pulled to, "Thank you, Kim. Jeff and I certainly appreciate the thoughtfulness."

"You're welcome," she returned with a special smile, reaching out to touch Dave, then remaining in the position for a long moment, almost as if she had forgotten what to do next. Finally, "Well, I'll get out of your way. Stop by and talk to me before you leave, Dave — please."

"I'll do that," Dave answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Matthews," Kim quickly said, then was gone in a rush, the door closing quietly behind her.

"Sorry about that," Carmen said to Dave. Then to Jeff, "She's always had a crush on Dave. Coming to work here was a dream come true — then her dream quit coming into the office very much. Just as well." After a second, she glanced back at Dave. "I don't want Evie and my daughter to have problems."

"Nonsense," Dave responded, mentally shaking himself. "I've bounced her on my knee when she was a kid. She's very special to Evie and me, and she loves us back. She'll find the right guy one of these days," he finished, but his eyes strayed toward the door that Kim had just gone through.

"I hope so," Carmen said opening the box of doughnuts. Hesitating, seeming to make up her mind, she sighed, "She's had three boyfriends since she started dating. Josh and I were trying to be ... modern, I guess. I mean the going thing these days is for the parents to rent a nice hotel room for prom night. We didn't want to think of our daughter that way, but we didn't want her out drunk somewhere in the back seat of a car. So, I sat her down and told her what her dad and I decided ... She blew up. I mean had a fit. She said that there was no way she was sleeping with that creep, meaning her boyfriend."

Holding the box out to Jeff, she continued, "Heck, they were dating. Well with kids these days that means ... Uh, he brought her home about eleven. She stormed into the house muttering about men, and has refused to date since."

After they all took a bite of doughnut, Carmen continued, "Sorry Jeff. I shouldn't have mentioned that in front of you, but when Dave said you were closer than a brother ... I just felt..." She wound down looking confused. "Sorry," she apologized.

There were suddenly tears in Carmen's eyes. "I'm worried about her Dave. I knew she had a crush on you. Has for years, but during the last month or so, she's..."

Dave dropped his half-eaten doughnut on a napkin and quickly got up. Pulling Carmen to her feet, he hugged her as his and Jeff's eyes locked.

"Oh, shit," Dave quietly said, realizing what he had done with his pheromones. "Somehow, we need to get Evie over here."

"Evie? Why? I don't want to get her upset," Carmen said, perplexed. "Kim is going to have to handle this. It's part of growing up..."

"No," Dave said, releasing Carmen and stepping back, then reaching back for her hands again. "This is my fault, and Jeff knows it," he said, nodding to Jeff.

The two sat back down, Carmen taking a napkin and wiping her eyes; Dave absently retrieving his doughnut from the coffee table.

"This isn't your fault, Dave. You haven't done a thing, like I said."

Dave took the last bite of his doughnut and wiped his hands on a napkin, absently staring as he thought.

Jeff sighed. "Do you trust her enough?" he asked as if Carmen weren't even in the room.

Dave turned his gaze to Jeff. "With my life. She's like a second mother to me; although, she certainly isn't old enough to be," he said, smiling at Carmen.

"Oh, I am, too." Turning to Jeff, she continued, "I had Kim late. And to put it mildly, she was a shock. I never got pregnant in all those years, then suddenly I was. But she's been a blessing. She smart — really smart. And she's been an exceptionally good kid. She's just turned eighteen. She's somehow gotten totally infatuated with Dave lately. She's always loved him, but in the last month or two, she won't shut up about him."

"Oh, shit," Dave quietly said again.

Jeff stood. "I'll go get Diana and Evie."

"What?" Dave responded, incredulously. "Jeff, they're buying dresses for a wedding..."

"Who's getting married?" Carmen asked, but was ignored as the men continued.

"Yep. They're buying dresses and having them fitted, too. And probably spending most of their time just standing around waiting. They'll get back to it; we might just be a little later starting toward home than we had planned. Besides, that damn dress shop better stay open late if our women need them to. We've spent a ton of money there during the last few months. The lady that runs it could probably retire if she had a year's worth of our business." Standing, he headed for the door. "Call Evie and tell her to get Diana and be ready. I'll be there in a few minutes. You need your Queen over here."

Jeff turned back as he opened the door. "If you trust her," he said, obviously meaning Carmen, "then tell her what needs to be said. Unless Diana has another idea, there's only one way I can think of to fix this. Hopefully, Evie will concur."

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit," Dave said putting his head in his hands while Carmen stared at them as if they had both lost their minds.

-------

Kimberly swiveled her chair around to look out the window as the Expedition pulled out the gate. First thinking that Dave had gone out the back without telling her goodbye, she then realized that Jeff was alone. The SUV pulled into the street and accelerated hard.

What's going on? I wonder where he's going in such a hurry. Oh, God, what excuse can I use to go back in and talk to Dave? Surely there's something I can come up with without looking like a bimbo. Think girl, think. You probably won't get to see him again for a week. Oh, it's a good thing Evie didn't come in today. She'd kill me if she saw me leaning over to stick my titties in Dave's face. She's so sweet to me. I don't want her mad at me, but I just can't stay away from Dave. Oh, crap. What's wrong with me?

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff pulled into the dress shop lot. Diana and Evie, obviously watching for him, came hurrying out.

Diana got in the passenger seat while Evie quickly got in the back. Both fastened their belts as Evie asked, "Okay, what's going on?" Jeff dropped the vehicle into gear and turned into the street.

"Is anything wrong?" Evie continued. "Dave said he was fine, but wouldn't say anything else other than he needed for Diana and me to get over to the office ASAP."

"Is this about something wrong at the company?" Diana broke in.

"Where do you stand with the dresses?" Jeff asked as he accelerated past a truck.

"Well, they're doing a slight modification to Evie's. But basically her dress is done. Linda's dress is perfect. Joyce's and Caitlin's will be finished in a few hours. No major problems. Why? What's wrong?" Then, "Jeff, slow down. We have this under control. This woman is a professional and she and her girls are good. Our measurements were right on. Now slow down before you get a ticket, and tell us what's going on."

Jeff let his foot up on the accelerator, realizing how fast he was going. A little sheepish, he asked, "Remember when this first started and the waitresses..."

"Were trying to breed with you because of your pheromones," Diana interjected, her laughter calming her husband.

There was a second's hesitation as Jeff didn't answer, then Diana sat back in the seat, suddenly looking forward instead of looking at her husband. "Oh, crap," she whispered. "Did you guys go out to eat?"

"Nope. Straight to his office."

"What's going on?" Evie said. "Dave has learned to control his pheromones. I mean we had women that we were around come on to him, but after Jeff talked to him, he learned to control things..."

"Not soon enough," Jeff interjected.

Evie thought for a second, then as it dawned on her, "Kim. Oh, no. She's always had a crush on Dave. Her dad had to make her quit sitting in his lap. She would make up all kinds of excuses to kiss him when she was twelve or thirteen, even later from time to time. But she's dating. I thought that was over."

"Trust me; it's not. She came into the office with a sweater on — hell, I don't know materials — it looked like cashmere or something — expensive. It... presented her well to put it mildly. I could hear it in her voice, and I'm obviously not talking about the sweater. She leaned over to put the doughnuts on the table, giving him a good view. Uh, Dave dumped a ... bunch of pheromones. I don't think he even realized it. Evie, Little One told me that it wasn't just a reaction to a woman he was attracted to. She said that he was calling his mate."

Glancing in the mirror at Evie, Jeff quickly went on. "I hope you're not going to go off on the girl ... or Dave. I think this got started before he learned to control his pheromones. Carmen said that Kim had been acting differently during the last month or so. Evie, I ... uh, this girl is hooked. And it didn't start today."

Astonishing Jeff, Evie giggled, but Jeff wasn't sure whether it was amusement or frustration.

Evie caught his eye in the mirror. "Can't let the boy out of my sight. I never thought about Kim. We haven't spent much time in the office lately, and now that we've moved in with you guys, we haven't been to their house, or had the DeSantos over to ours. I've felt guilty about it since we've been so close for so many years. But with all that's been going on, I just didn't think about Kim when we were at the office..."

As Diana turned in the seat to better look at Evie, "What are we going to do, Diana? I can't hurt her. She's special."

"Dave is telling Carmen, now," Jeff interjected.

"Jeff, I'm not comfortable with this," Diana said looking sharply at her husband. "I've never met these people, and I realize that a lot of people probably think that you're living with several women. But that's no big deal. The rich guy on the mountain has a flock of women with him. Yeah, right. What's new? Next subject. That's probably what most people think. Certainly isn't that unusual for the ultra rich. We can get away with that, but is he telling her about the Alpha Males?"

"Yeah, but he says that he trusts her, and he'll give her a limited version. What the fuck. If word gets out about the Alphas, we'll just go with it. I've heard the term used quite a few times. So if someone hears that we think we're Alphas, probably the worse that will happen is that people will just assume that we're arrogant assholes. But I don't think that Carmen will say anything. Probably won't even want to. I mean; her daughter is called by an Alpha. Yeah, right. She probably wouldn't tell that if she were asked to."

Evie didn't say anything else, but sat staring out the window.

-------

Quinton had dressed for work when they got home, a little miffed because he wasn't offered a blowjob even though he had mentioned wanting one when they got up this morning. He had thought he would get one when they got home. Looks like I'll have to blister Virginia's ass again tonight. Oh, well.

Where have the women gotten off to, he wondered as he swung his gun belt around his waist and fastened it while standing in the bedroom. After securing the keepers, he drew his Glock. Easing the slide back a fraction, he checked to confirm that a round was still chambered. Holstering the pistol, grinning, he thought of all the movies he had seen where a cop — usually a detective — drew his gun and chambered a round before going into action. There would be a lot more dead cops than there are if we had to work the slide before we could do anything. Ridiculous. Right up there with cars always catching fire and blowing themselves to smithereens when they wreck,  he thought. Movie directors. And people eat up that garbage. Looks like those big shots would ride around with a cop a little before faking stupid shit like that.

Walking down the hallway, he turned into the living room to grab his hat off the rack, his mood worsening. Hell, are they not even going to tell me goodbye this mor...  Then he saw them, both nude, kneeling by the door.

As he walked closer, his dick coming to sudden hardness, Virginia said, "Would Master like a blowjob before he leaves?"

"Oh, Hell yeah," Quinton said, his day suddenly looking up as he unzipped his pants.

As he started to reach in for his cock, Virginia brushed his hand away. "My job."

The Sheriff wasn't going to argue with her. As she finally managed to pull his hard cock out, she held it while Elizabeth eagerly engulfed the head with her mouth. Quinton groaned as she sucked strongly, Virginia adding the stimulus of moving her hand back and forth near the base of his dick.

"Don't hold back," she whispered. "We don't want to make you late for work."

Shortly, Quinton grunted, trying to stifle a moan as the first gush of his semen spewed into Elizabeth's mouth. After the first couple of spurts, Virginia capped her mouth over the head to get the rest, sucking hard and swallowing like her sister until he had to make her quit when he became too sensitive.

Virginia tried to put his limbering dick back into his pants, but laughing, Quinton took over the job. Zipping up, he watched as both women looked at each other for a moment, then kissed, obviously sharing the remains of his spend. The kiss heated up, and he could feel his cock start to swell again.

Watching the women, he thought: I don't know what Jeff did to us, but my dick seems like it is always ready. Hell, as old as I am, it's a wonder if I could get it up again by tonight. Now, I've got to get my mind on something else or leave here with a hard-on. Watching the two women, he decided that thinking about something else was an impossibility.

Pulling the two nude women to their feet, he kissed each of them thoroughly. "I love you my wife," he said to Virginia, kissing her forehead.

Turning to Elizabeth, "I love you my wife," he repeated, kissing her forehead, too.

Elizabeth, tears starting to flow, threw her arms around him, hugging him as hard as she possibly could.

"Come back to us, Quinton," Virginia quietly said. "Don't get yourself..."

"I won't," he interrupted. "It would be stupid to get myself killed, now that we've gotten things worked out."

"I'm going to pick up the girls this morning — a day early," Elizabeth hurriedly said as he reached for the doorknob. "We'll all need dresses for the wedding."

"Sounds like a good idea," he laughed, amazing the women, both of them having expected to hear something along the line of you have a closet full of dresses. "But remember, just tell the girls enough to get by. We're going to a wedding at the Matthews, or maybe a little more. Let the Matthews decide how much to tell them. I'll talk to Jeff and see if he wants us to come a little early so he and Diana can prep the girls for the idea of a multiple wedding."

Quickly kissing them, he hurried out the door. Realizing that his Crown Vic was still parked at the barn, he jogged in that direction in the best mood he could ever remember. Already looking forward to his return home, he smiled. Tonight should be great, and tomorrow ... well, it should be one Hell of a night on Matthews' Mountain.



-------

Chapter 96

THURSDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 26

Evie led them in the back door of the construction building, but as Jeff started to go into Dave and Evie's office, the blond stopped and put her hand on Jeff's shoulder. "You two go on in. I'm going to chat with Kim for a minute. She saw us pull in and with what's happened, she must be totally confused by now."

"Want me to go with you?" Diana asked, pausing before entering the office.

"No. Go on in with Dave. I'm just going to see how upset she is. I'll bring her in with me in a few minutes," she answered, then walked purposely down the hall.

A moment later, Evie knocked lightly on the edge of the open doorway to Kim's small office. "You busy?" she quietly asked.

"Un uh," Kim said getting up, then, "Evie, I did something stupid," she started in a rush. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've been planning this for a couple of weeks, and it seemed perfectly reasonable somehow, but now ... Oh, Evie. I bought this sweater to ... show off for your husband. I ... went in there with my top unbuttoned and shoved my breasts in Dave's face. Evie, I'm so ashamed, but I'm just..." The tears flowed as she sobbed.

By then, Evie had stepped across the room to Kim and pulled the younger woman into her arms. "Hush, Baby. Everything is fine. No one is mad at you."

"But I stuck my titties in your husband's face, like a slut or something," she sniffed, fighting to control her sobbing. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I've always loved him, but for the last few weeks, I just can't ... Oh, it all sounds stupid. I'm sorry Evie. I know that you're going to fire me. I don't blame you. I just..."

"Hush, hush, hush," Evie whispered as she pulled Kim tightly to her, gently patting her back. "It's all right. It really is. And I know what's going on. This isn't your fault. If there's any fault in this, it belongs to Dave and me."

Evie grabbed a tissue from a box on Kim's desk and began dabbing tears away. "Come on. Let's get those tears dried up and get your face washed."

Evie kissed her lightly on the mouth, then as Kim tried to stare at the floor, "Come on, smile at me," she said raising the teenager's face gently upward a little with a fingertip. "This is Auntie Evie," she chuckled. "Remember when you used to call me that?"

"Yeah," Kim said, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "But I'm grown now, and I just tried to seduce your husband in front of, uh, Jeff, and my mother. Oh, God. I can't believe..."

"Hush now. Let's not get the tears started again. You're not in any trouble, probably the exact opposite. Oh, there's going to be a few bumps, but trust me, this is going to come out okay," she finished, kissing Kim on the cheek.

"But, Evie, how can it? I mean, oh crap; I'm just going to say it. I'm in love with your husband; I mean, really,  in love with him. I can't get him off my mind. You wouldn't believe how intense it is. Evie, what can I do?"

"Oh, I can believe how intense it is," Evie mysteriously said. "But right now the first thing you need to do is get your purse. We're going to the restroom to wash your face and repair your makeup. Then we're going to go sit down with those two hunks and your mother."

Kim's eyes got big as she shook her head. "Oh, Evie, I'm too embarrassed to go back in there. I made a complete fool of myself."

"Get your purse," Evie said, her voice changing. "You didn't do anything wrong, and we're just going in circles with this conversation."

When Kim opened a desk drawer and took out her purse, Evie grabbed the younger woman's arm and guided her toward the door. "Come on, our Alpha is waiting."

Kim tried to ask what Evie was talking about, but the blond rushed her down the hall without repeating.

-------

A few minutes later, Evie and Kim stood outside Dave and Evie's office. "You can undo those buttons again if you like," Evie said to Kim in a quiet and sexy voice, only halfway teasing her.

"What ... Evie, please don't tease me. I already feel like a slut for going in there with half my titties showing. Heck, you wouldn't believe what I spent on this sweater."

Evie hugged her for a second. "Whatever it was, Sweetie, it was worth it."

Kim stared at her, unable to understand why Evie wasn't reading her the riot act — at a minimum.

"Just go with the flow when we get in there. And remember, I am not mad at you. And I'm certainly not jealous."

Kim looked at her incredulously. "But I've seen you..."

"Yeah, well, that was before. This is different. Now let's go talk to our Alpha. And just follow his lead. Do not worry about what you expect me to think. Okay?"

Kim nodded numbly, not having the faintest idea what Evie was talking about.

-------

"There you two are," Dave said, getting up from behind his desk and coming around to meet them. Ignoring Kim, he walked up to his wife, took her in his arms and kissed her soundly. The kiss lingered, causing Kim and her mother to wonder what was going on. When the two broke the kiss, Evie stood on tiptoe pulling Dave's head down to whisper in his ear.

After a moment, "You sure?" he quietly asked.

"Positive. Besides, it's the only way."

Carmen sat quietly, a cup of coffee cooling in her hand, an unreadable expression on her face.

Totally flabbergasting Kim, Evie turned to her, and taking the brunette's hand, pulled the younger woman close to her husband, putting Kim's hand into Dave's.

Dave smiled down at Kim. "We've got a lot to talk about. Evie just told me that you were in love with me. Not a crush, but in love with me. I've outlined some of the things to your mom that Jeff has, uh, discovered about certain of us. It's a big pill to swallow all at once, and we'll talk to you about it in a minute, but first, I need to do something."

Hesitating a moment, he said, "You are beautiful you know."

Kim just stood staring up at him as if hypnotized.

Putting one hand in the small of her back, the other on the back of her neck, Dave pulled her to him, then slowly leaned down and kissed her. At first with a very gentle touch, he increased the pressure somewhat, then after she finally relaxed against him, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue. As her lips parted a little more, he explored to find her tongue, timid, but coming to meet his as if to see what was going on.

This time, purposely, he released his pheromones, and in his mind, asked that she be his, as Jeff had taught him. Almost as if she could hear him, she quietly moaned into his mouth, her breasts pushing against him, her nipples hard points that he could feel through his shirt.

Evie gently rubbed Kim's back for a moment, then went to sit by Diana and Carmen.

As Diana sat back down, Carmen nervously took a sip of her barely-warm coffee. Seeming to have to tear her eyes away from Dave and her daughter, Carmen, in a broken voice said, "I ... uh, guess Dave was correct with what he told me about the pheromones, Evie. If I didn't love that husband of mine so much, I think I would be standing over there with them. Come to think of it," she said, her face flushing noticeably, "Josh has gotten lucky on several occasions lately after Dave and I had a conference."

Diana chuckled. "Jeff had a few incidents until he learned to control things," she said, grinning at her husband. "I guess Dave took a while to learn, too."

Diana leaned over and took Carmen's hand. "What is your husband going to think about this?" she asked, her mien almost grave.

Carmen smiled, forcing herself to not giggle as she tore her thoughts away from what she was planning for her husband when she got home, realizing that her panties were already wet. "Joshua ... well, to put it in perspective, Joshua thinks of Dave as the son he didn't have, and I guess I do, too. As far as Josh is concerned, Dave can do no wrong. Josh has fretted for the last couple of years about Kim finding someone like Dave. She hasn't been, uh, I guess you could say successful with dating. Judging from her comments, the boys she has dated haven't fit the 'Dave' mold very well."

Carmen took another sip of her coffee trying to calm herself, and glanced at the two who were now talking quietly with each other, Dave occasionally kissing Kim's forehead as they spoke, "Oh, he might be a little shocked about Kim being another wife, or mate ... whatever you are calling it, but he knows that Kim loves Dave. I think he was beginning to worry a little that she was a lesbian, and if I hadn't seen the way she looked at Dave, to say nothing about her talking my arm off about him, I would probably be worried about that, too.

"Oh, we would have supported her if that were the case, but we want grandchildren and a husband for our daughter. I'll get a couple of shots of Jack Daniels in Josh before we have our talk, but I suspect that he'll come around pretty easily."

Dave led Kim over to the couch where he sat, and pulled her onto his lap. Kim put an arm around him, hugging herself to him, her face wet with tears of joy. The two sat quietly talking as they snuggled, occasionally kissing.

Evie sighed, then turned to Diana. "Watching them makes me feel — heck, I don't know — like I've been selfish, or worse. I knew she loved him, and I knew it had long since passed from platonic. With what has been happening, I should have realized that Dave's Alpha abilities would call her, probably already had before they were even enhanced. And again, I knew that he loved her back, but somehow — I guess with us all being so close and all — it didn't register how much he loved her. We both loved her since she was a kid, but she grew up on us, and I guess her love changed from loving her Uncle Dave to that of the love of a woman for her man."

Mentally shaking herself, she looked at a grinning Diana who mouthed, "Queen Bitch," then smirked.

Evie started for a second, then grinned back at Diana. "Touché," she acknowledged even as she realized what she had to do.

Evie turned back to Carmen, who had seen and heard the exchange, but had no real idea of what had passed between the women. The petite blond reached over and held Carmen's hand. "We have to get back to the dress shop, but we need to set some things in motion."

Carmen, not fully understanding what Evie was talking about, sighed. "Dave told me that Jeff was marrying two women tomorrow night, but with everything that has happened in the last hour, I don't even know what to think. I mean, Dave is sitting over there with my daughter on his lap, and his wife is sitting calmly here with me..."

"Give it time," Diana said. "You've had a shock, but everything will smooth out in time."

Evie smiled at the older woman. "You do know that you're going to lose your clerk, don't you?"

Carmen hesitated a moment. "This is hard to believe — well, at least hard to get used to."

"It's way too far for her to commute every day. It wasn't as bad for us with our home halfway between here and the retreat," Evie put in. "Does she still have plans for college?"

"Yeah," Carmen said. "She had until she came to work in the office for the summer right out of high school, but then she was around Dave more. It wasn't long until she had decided to 'work for a year' before she started school."

Evie glanced at Diana, who smiled back and quickly said, "One more for Helen to nurture won't make any difference, except possibly making Helen happier. It will work out just fine."

Evie stood, drawing Carmen to her feet as well, but it was Diana who spoke up first. "You and Joshua need to come up for lunch tomorrow, if you can get away from work," Diana said. "The two families need to talk, and the men," she hesitated, then went on, "need to bond. After Jeff talks to Josh, things will go smoother."

Jeff looked at her and raised an eyebrow, then after a moment, nodded.

"Go smoother?" Carmen said. "I mean ... Uh, Dave is sitting over there kissing Kim, but...

Evie pushed back from Carmen so that she could look her in the eye. Taking a breath and a quick glance at Diana who nodded and grinned bigger, Evie said, "Carmen, we'll talk about this in detail tomorrow." Evie hesitated for a moment, then went on, "Right now you don't fully understand, but you can obviously feel my Alpha's pheromones. He has called his mate, well, another of his mates. That can't be stopped or reversed. It's a fact.

"To leave her like this," Evie said, her plan solidifying in her mind as she motioned to an obviously dazzled Kimberly, "would be cruel. Dave and I have both loved her for years. It's obvious that he's been putting out pheromones for the last month or so when he's been around Kim. I'm his Queen Bitch. I know that you don't really know what that is right now, but I think you can feel it. You can at least feel that those two over there deserve to be together, and I'm going to see that it happens."

Turning toward Dave, Evie continued, "Dave my love, would you and Kim come over here and sit, please?"

"Sure," Dave said as he stood, pulling Kim up to stand with his arm around her. Kim could only stare into Dave's eyes. "Let's go sit by your mom and Evie," Dave said, somewhat breaking her trance-like state.

As they sat, Kim pushed her seat as close to Dave's as she could get it. Then sat, putting her head on his shoulder. Seeming to come to herself after a moment, she sat up and looked at her mother. "Dave has asked me to marry him. He's told me about their marriage and what's going to happen tomorrow night when he marries Linda. I've told him that I would gladly be his wife, uh, his third wife."

That set things off with Carmen. "Linda? Who's Linda?"

Evie spent the next ten minutes giving the older woman a more thorough description of the Alphas, and telling the now thoroughly shocked woman more about Linda.

A little later, again sitting, Carmen, still more than a little dazed, said, "I guess the whole thing has just overwhelmed me. I was just getting my mind around the two of you including Kim in your marriage, when ... Uh, if this didn't revolve around you, Dave, I would be screaming at the top of my lungs. But, you," she said smiling at him, "have been a son to us. We couldn't want for any more for our daughter, and odd as it sounds coming from my own lips, it somehow makes sense for you to marry Kim. Oh, you've told me it isn't a legal marriage, but I have no doubt that it will work, since I know how much Evie loves her, too. But the realization that you're going to marry another woman about floored me," she finished, her voice far from steady.

"Mom, I don't care how many women he has as long as I'm one of them," Kim interjected.

"I know, Baby. We've just been over that..."

Dave stood up and pulled Carmen to her feet again, hugging her. "I love Kim, and I love Evie and Linda as well. We need to get Joshua in here and get this settled. He might just decide he needs a gun after he hears all this."

Carmen put her head on Dave's chest, hugging herself to him. "Joshua, ha. Like I said, he thinks you can do no wrong. He might be a little shocked, but more likely, he'll be all for it. He's joked about Kim going to live with you and Evie, and I think it might have been a little more than a joke. He knows that she's madly in love with you. He's always had a no nonsense kind of mind. She loves you; she goes to live with you kind of thing. That's one reason he is so good at what he does. While other people are trying to decide, he just goes ahead and does whatever needs doing."

Dave cleared his throat. "We'll get her up to the retreat for awhile once the marriages are over and..."

"No we won't," Evie said.

"What? I thought you wanted..."

"We will not 'get her up to the retreat.' She will go with us today and walk down that aisle with Linda tomorrow night," the petite blond said, matter-of-factly.

Diana grabbed Jeff's leg, squeezing hard, fighting not to chuckle as she looked at the little Queen telling how it was going to be.

Dave knew that he should shut his gaping mouth, but it took a few seconds for his body to react to the command sent from his brain.

"Yes!" Kim said scrambling to her feet to hug Evie. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Uh, Baby, uh, what is Linda going to say? I mean don't we need to break this to her? I mean..."

Evie stepped over to her husband and grabbed him by his collar, pulling his face down to hers. Kissing him hard, but quickly, she smiled up at him and in a firm voice said, "If I'm to be your Queen Bitch, then I might as well do it right. My Alpha has called someone that we have both loved for years. We are not waiting around, leaving her two hours from her man. She's going with us to the dress shop to get her dress. Tomorrow night she'll become yours."

As Dave started to respond, Evie touched a finger to his lips. "Do you really like to think about her standing and watching tomorrow night? She would be in misery. Would you want to do that to her?"

Diana poured herself another cup of coffee, crossed her shapely legs and watched, a look of pride on her face, forcing herself to not bounce up and down. Jeff crossed his legs, laced his hands on the back of his head, leaned back and grinned at the show.

Evie turned back to Carmen. "Get Joshua in here. We need to bring him up to speed, and then get all of us women over to the dress shop. I'm assuming that you want to go with us?" she asked Carmen. "I can't imagine a mother not wanting to be there to help pick out her daughter's wedding dress. Oh, and tell Francis that she's in charge of the office for the rest of the day. We need to get the ball rolling. We have a lot to do."

Before Carmen could start out the door, Evie reiterated, "You and Josh need to come up to the retreat tomorrow for lunch so all of us can talk. We occasionally close the office at noon on Fridays. We'll do that tomorrow." Evie frowned for a moment. "Might as well get on the phone first thing in the morning and see if you can get a temp out to take Kim's place. If you can still get that one — what was her name? Heather, I think — she was smart and seemed to fit right in. She mentioned wanting to work for us full-time. If you think she's worth it and she still wants the job, just go ahead and buy her contract from the temp agency."

The next hour was a madhouse. Dave was worried about Joshua, but the man turned out to be an easy sell, so easy, that Diana knew that Dave's pheromones had been at work on the man as well. Not as a mate, of course, but to sway him to accept Dave as an Alpha.

-------

At the dress shop parking lot, Evie told Kim and Carmen to wait in Carmen's car for awhile. Inside the shop, she and Diana grabbed Linda and headed for the break room. Despite Evie's outward assurance, she was, indeed, worried about how Linda would take to another wife for Dave.

She need not have worried, though. Linda just looked at her and grinned. "Oh, I knew there would be other women. We even talked about it a little. With Jeff with all his wives living there with us, it was bound to happen. Besides, an Alpha needs more than two wives, especially our Alpha. I've thought about marrying Dave a lot, and not just about a beautiful wedding and my wedding night. I've talked to the girls about their marriage to Jeff. We've talked about sharing — about a lot of things. There really is a bond between them, and I think there will be between us as well. I can already feel it a little bit. Can't you Evie?"

Evie smiled and kissed her. "Yeah, Sweetheart, I can. And I think that Kim will fit right in with us. Our mate will expect us to get along, just as Jeff does his mates. We all have one gigantic thing in common — we love our husband."

"So, let's go meet our sister-wife," Linda said. "She must be scared to death sitting out there in that car knowing what we're discussing."

"I'll go get her," Diana started.

"No," Linda interrupted. "I will. She'll know as soon as I walk out that door and smile at her that everything is fine. If one of you go out, she'll be wondering and thinking the worst."

When Jeff saw Linda heading for the door, he stepped out and checked the lot. Satisfied, he nodded to Linda as she waited just inside. Smiling, the young woman walked quickly toward the vehicle to meet her sister-wife.

-------

Dana, the dress shop owner, stood checking Kim with a critical eye. "Hmmm, she's very close to your size, Evie. If you could accept that one over there on the right side of the window, we could have what few alterations we need done in an hour or so. Of course, it's almost identical to Linda's. If that's a problem, we could use the one in the left front window, but the alterations would take quite a bit longer."

Kim turned to Linda. "Would you mind ... I guess it's out of the question."

Linda broke in with, "Mind? I think it's wonderful. We're going ... uh," she broke off, realizing what she was about to say.

Evie smiled at them and whispered so that only they could hear, "Three alike, to marry our man."

"You're going to wear a wedding dress, too?" Kim quietly said, her face almost glowing.

"You bet your life," Evie whispered back, then to Dana, "We'll take it, but we're in a hurry."

Dana turned to her assistants, snapped her fingers and pointed to the dress. Jeff and Dave retreated to the SUV.



-------

Chapter 97



THURSDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 26

As Jeff and Dave sat in the SUV, Jeff glanced over at his friend who appeared more than a little shell-shocked. "What are you going to do about rings?"

"Wha ... Oh, shit," Dave said sitting up straight. "I haven't even thought about them."

"Better start," Jeff grinned, enjoying someone else being on the receiving end for once.

Jeff's cell rang. Eyeing the caller ID, he frowned. "What is Evie doing calling me?"

"Jeff," he answered.

"Let me speak to my husband, please. For some reason, he's turned his phone off." The 'please' didn't sound like it meant please.

"Your wife," Jeff said, handing the phone to Dave.

Dave frowned and took the phone. After a moment, "Well, I don't know. I didn't realize that I had turned ... Uh, no. Jeff and I were just talking about that ... Uh, sure. We'll get over there right now. Thanks, Babe," he said hanging up and handing the phone back to Jeff.

Pulling his phone out and looking at it, "I didn't turn it off. The battery is dead." Then, in an almost desperate tone, "I've got to go pick up the rings. She has already called the jewelers."

Almost before Dave was done with the explanation, Jeff was gunning the Expedition toward the street.

-------

Later at the retreat. "Matthews' residence, Jeff speaking."

"Request permission to land," a chuckling Frank Wainwright said.

"So you're going to take the shortcut this time?" Jeff laughed.

"Yep, on the way. ETA ten minutes. It's getting dark. How about turning on the lights for the helipad?"

"I wondered if I would ever get to use those," Jeff laughed. "Will do. Everything okay?"

"Couldn't be better."

"Invite your pilot in for some coffee and a snack. Or if he hasn't eaten, we should be having supper pretty soon."

"Already asked him, but he has to pick up his first passenger in an hour. But I told him that we wouldn't take no for an answer many more times."

Jeff laughed as he said, "I second that. Tell him we owe him and we intend to pay our debts."

"You've got it. See you in a few minutes," Wainwright said before cutting the connection.

-------

"What do you mean the pilot isn't coming in?" Joyce said, adamant as she and Jeff stood in the hallway. "No way is that man getting away from here without my thanking him for helping to save my life."

"Reed has a passenger that he has to pick up in an hour..."

"Then he has five minutes to spare, or else he'll just have to be five minutes late. I haven't been able to thank him personally. I thought about trying to call him on the phone, but he deserves more than that. I kissed Sheriff Tate right in front of his jealous wife, and I'm darn sure not going to do less for someone who lost his job trying to save my life."

Jeff leaned over and lightly kissed her, almost becoming lost in her green eyes as he did so. "Easy there my soon-to-be wife. I'm on your side. Hell, I'll hold him for you," he teased. Then more seriously, "We'll meet the chopper at the helipad. I want to see the look on his face when all my wives tell him thank you. I'll bet he has something to think about on the way to the airport," he finished, grinning.

"Everybody?" Joyce said, her grin now matching Jeff's. "Yeah, I like that. I know that Caitlin said that she would like to thank him, but I like the idea of everyone doing it. Yeah, that will give the guy something to remember." Starting down the hallway, she suddenly turned, her long hair swirling onto her shoulder as she swung her head sharply, "And you're not going to be jealous..."

"Oh, come on, Joyce. It isn't as if you're going to bed with him. I would draw the line somewhere along there. But we need to do something special for the guy. Well, Frank is buying him a helicopter and starting a business for him, but this is a little more personal. And the way my wives kiss, he'll remember it to his dying day. Of course, he'll probably still have a lump in his pants when he gets to the airport."

Joyce giggled and took off to find the others, knowing that she had been included in the wives comment.

-------

As the big helicopter settled to the pad with a gentle touch, everyone waited well away from the down blast from the rotors. As the blades wound down, Bill, who had been riding up front with the pilot, got out on the left side. The passenger door opened and Margaret, Kathy and Frank stepped out as well.

Reed got his surprise. A beautiful woman with a mane of hair that was somewhat tousled by the wind opened the pilot's door. "I'm Deputy Joyce Cramer; the deputy you lost your job over. I hope your wife doesn't mind, but mind or not, I'm going to thank you in the only way I know how." With that, Joyce pushed his microphone out of the way of his mouth, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him.

Before the poor guy had time to recover, "I'm Caitlin; Joyce's sister. Thank you for helping save her," and Caitlin kissed him, trying to outdo Joyce. It went on. Of course, Diana had added her little twist to the idea, and all of the women were braless. Kathy and Margaret joined the end of the line when they saw what was going on, adding their appreciation to that of the other women.

-------

"Well, he's functioning," Jeff laughed as the helicopter faded from sight over the top of the mountain, "but I'll bet the first few minutes of flying were more from muscle memory than conscious reasoning."

Diana snuggled up to Jeff and whispered into his ear. "I sure hope he loses that erection before he gets back to his wife. I don't want him to get in trouble with her."

Jeff grinned, "Maybe he'll stop at a bathroom somewhere and relieve some of the pressure. I doubt if it will go down on its own after what all of you did."

Laughing, they headed for the back door.

-------

As the women prepared the evening meal, Jeff, Dave, Bill and Frank were shooed off to the living room. "Well, darn," Frank Wainwright said, "At least they could have let us sit in there and supervise," he joked.

Dave propped his feet up as they all found seats and settled in. "I know they're talking about the weddings, but I would love to be a fly on the wall so that I could hear what they really think."

"Oh, you mean about men being brainless idiots that have to be led around all the time to keep them from hurting themselves?" Frank laughed.

"Yeah. Exactly, at least as far as Evie is concerned right now, I'll bet. She let Dave out of her sight and now there's another wife in the wings," Jeff interjected with an evil grin.

"What?" Bill said, frowning. "You're not serious are you?"

"Uh oh," Jeff mumbled. Then louder, "Let my mouth run off before putting my brain in gear. I apologize, Dave. I should have let you break the news to your father-in-law."

"You're serious? You're going to marry someone else? Someone besides my daughter?" Bill said turning to fully face Dave, a frown deepening the pilot's face.

"Easy, Bill. Before you say something that you're bound to regret, just remember that your body is also being enhanced. Unless you quickly learn to control your pheromones and your, uh, mental abilities, you're going to wind up with another woman before you know it."

Bill stared at Jeff. "No way. Kathy is plenty. I mean we've only made love a couple of times, but I love her. She's all I want. I have no intention..."

"Yeah, well, neither did I, but tomorrow night I'll have nine. And the more I get the happier my Queen seems to be. Couple of years ago, she would have had my nuts nailed on the bedroom wall if I had messed with another woman. Once you marry that little gal and she gets settled in, she's going to really notice that Dave and I have more than one wife. When the Queen Bitch syndrome kicks in, she's going to realize that she will have more prestige, or whatever they feel, if you have a few more wives. Then she will start shopping. And that's not saying anything about what's going to happen when you are even casually attracted to some other woman and you dump a deluge of pheromones..."

"No way, Jeff. It isn't going to happen to me," Bill said, even as his thoughts returned to something that had happened recently.

"Oh, really? What about Kathy already consenting to having Linda spend a night with you after you are married? I'm telling you that she's already being indoctrinated into the mindset of the women around here — my wife in particular. Ask Dave if what I'm saying isn't true. Evie has changed."

"And that's putting it mildly," Dave broke in grinning. "Sorry Bill. I should have gotten you aside as soon as we walked in, and brought you up to date. But before you decide to kick my ass for adding another woman to my marriage, you might want to think about what Jeff is telling you. It hasn't been long ago that Evie very emphatically told me that I wasn't to even think about another woman. That just because I was around Jeff who had several wives didn't mean it was going to happen to me. I could forget it if it ever even crossed my foolish mind. She had the only pussy I was ever going to get. Then today, she led Kim to me and put her hand in mine."

Bill sighed, seeming to give up far quicker than Dave expected. "Does Linda know?"

"You bet. They saw each other for the first time at the dress shop where they were getting their wedding dresses. I told Linda that I had fucked up and called Kim with my pheromones, but I loved her and had since she was a kid."

"How did she take it?" Bill asked, in spite of himself.

"Well, to be truthful, Evie took care of things, and there didn't seem to be much of a problem at all — far from it. Linda even seemed to expect it."

Bill just sighed and looked thoughtful as he stared out the window at the lighted grounds of the retreat.

Jeff, his face contemplative, looked over at Bill. "You gave in to that awfully quick, considering the way the conversation was headed there for a minute. I'm not trying to piss you off, but care to tell us what's happened? Remember, we're all in this together. And to be frank with all you guys," he said, glancing around at his buddies, "I had to go through this without a guidebook. I was constantly afraid that I was going to step off the path in this minefield that I had stumbled into. Your women have Diana to talk to as a guide. Without trying to be an ass, sincerely, guys, she's your best friend in this. She'll tell your women that this is a natural thing for an Alpha, and guide them into believing it is a prestigious development in their marriage.

"So what's happened?" Jeff asked again as he grinned at Bill.

Bill sighed, unconsciously staring hard at his hands for a moment, somewhat embarrassed; although, he didn't quite understand why. "Uh, we were sitting in this small waiting room for pilots. Mr. Wainwright had a meeting with someone in Seattle. He said that he would only be an hour or so. Kathy and I had refueled the plane, then were just sitting around talking and looking idly out the window at the planes when this ... female pilot walked in.

"I swear to you, I just glanced at her. She, uh ... filled out her uniform quite well, to put it mildly. Kathy spoke to her and they got to talking. She sat down across from us and I couldn't help but notice her chest. The first thing I knew, she had gotten up and sat back down beside me on the couch. I saw Kathy frown and knew that the ice was getting thin, so I hardly responded to the conversation at all. I guess I made the mistake of looking at her again, and she just ... fuck, I don't know, just sort of preened for me. Sat up straight and pushed her breasts out, and I don't mean she did it in a casual manner, either.

"Then she was rubbing my leg — with Kathy sitting right there watching her. Uh, Kathy was not pleased. They went for a 'walk, ' and this pilot — hell, I don't even remember her name — didn't come back with her. Then Kathy started giving me the cold shoulder. Finally, I got pissed, turned her around to face me — we were again sitting next to each other on the couch — and I told her that I was tired of it. That I had done absolutely nothing wrong. It was like you had flipped a switch. She was all over me right there in the lounge, or tried to be. She kissed me — and I mean kissed me — saying she was sorry, her apology as much an overreaction as the come-on from this other woman had been.

"I've had women come on to me. Hell, what man hasn't? But this gal was a commercial pilot — a professional. I think she would have fucked me right there. Uh ... that's what ran through my mind about the time I was getting pissed about you, uh, jilting my little girl," he finished, looking hard at Dave.

After a couple of moments of uncomfortable silence, Bill sighed again, "I guess I'm beginning to believe — I mean really believe — some of the things that Jeff and Diana told me. But old habits and concepts die hard. I, like any father, want the best for my little girl. And she'll be my little girl,  no matter how old she is, I guess."

"And she'll be treated with respect and love," Dave said, conviction strong in his voice.

"All I could ever ask for," Bill said, his voice quiet, but sincere.

"YOU GUYS GOING TO GOSSIP ALL DAY, OR COME TO SUPPER?" Diana said over the PA, her good mood evident in her voice.

"Wow, that was quick, even for you," Jeff said a couple of minutes later as they entered the kitchen.

"Hamburgers and home fries," Diana answered. "We have things to do tonight. So eat up and get lost, we girls are going to be busy."

Not having a retard among them, the men quickly ate and got out of Dodge. A quick discussion and they decided to go visit Fred.

As they were walking toward the back, the computer announced that Carla and Jessica had just turned into the driveway. A few minutes later as the women got out of their truck, Carla waved to the men who now stood in the parking lot behind the building. "He's expecting you," she said, walking toward them. "He rented a porn movie for you guys to watch tonight at your 'bachelor' party," she finished, smiling at Jeff and Dave.

They just looked at each other. "Bachelor party?" Dave said, looking puzzled.

"Well, actually," Carla said as the two women started to walk by the men, "I was just teasing you, I think the movie is one of those shoot-em-up, blow-everything-to-hell type things. Lot of noise and such, but only a little bit of porn thrown in." Laughing like she had said something especially funny, she and Jessica went on into the retreat.

"How in the fuck did they know that we would decide..." Dave started.

Diana,  Jeff thought, then aloud, "Don't even go there," he grumbled. "Just get in the SUV. If we ask them, they'll just laugh more."

Bill and Frank looked at each other and grinned, then hastened to get in before they were left.

-------

As Jeff made the first switchback in the driveway, "Tell me about the helicopter. The last time I talked to you on the phone, you had sent Tingle..."

Frank chuckled as he sat in the front passenger seat and looked over at Jeff. "Yeah, I got him started on it. He got a team together..."

"A team to buy a helicopter?"

"Ah ... no. Bill, Reed and his wife are doing that. Tingle and his team are setting up the business, getting the accounts started, securing a place at the airport, lining up future customers, getting the advertising going; that sort of thing."

"His wife?"

"Yeah," Bill said leaning forward to get in the conversation. "His wife is a pilot, too. They met in the military; flew helicopters together there. He claims that she is a better pilot than he is, but I think he's just being modest. She's kept current, but hasn't been working as a pilot since they got out of the military."

"So you bought the one you arrived in?" Jeff said, knowing that the copter probably wasn't the one they were going to buy.

Bill spoke up from the second seat, "Oh, no. What we flew up in from the airport is a rental. It's nice, but not nearly as lavish as the one that the manufacturer is building for us. Mr. Wainwright has given me carte blanch authority to buy the helicopter. Basically, a safe and luxurious ride. We've chosen a Sikorsky S-76 with everything you can put on the avionics package, including the latest avoidance radar and the best telephone system, Enhanced Ground Proximity Warning system, uh..." Seeing Jeff grinning at him in the mirror, Bill laughed. "Sorry."

"And the passenger area?" Jeff prompted, still smiling about Bill getting carried away with the list of things they were able to get with the avionics system.

"Plush," Captain Madison laughed. "It has a refrigerator and a wet bar. Top of the line stereo system, two captains' chairs, and a matching couch that is every bit as nice, also the helicopter has a sound dampening system that is very impressive. Luxurious doesn't even come close to describing the passenger area, and the cockpit is just as nice.

"She cruses at 155 knots with a range of 375 nautical miles with a thirty minute reserve..."

"It's red with blue trim," Wainwright injected, laughing. "That's darn near all I know about it."

Jeff laughed at Wainwright's little joke, knowing that Frank had probably done a lot of research, himself, despite his comment to the contrary. "So, does Reed like it?" Jeff teased.

"Yeah, you could say that," Bill chuckled. "Only problem is who gets to sit in the right seat first. His wife is just as excited as he is. They haven't been married too long. This may be their first fight."

"So you wound up with two helicopter pilots instead of one?" Jeff asked, glancing at Frank.

"That's about the size of it. Who knows where things will go, but we're going to do a thorough advertising campaign. We are setting him up in business, but I'll maintain control of the company. We'll pay the two of them a salary — a good one — and share what's left of the profits. That way, if he has lean months to start with, or things get slack from time to time, he and his wife won't have to worry about money. The company will make money. I've already gotten commitments from three people I know in the area and two companies fifty miles or so out of Denver. I know a lot of business people in the area who ... owe me. I've only touched the surface so far.

"Just like us today; step off the plane and into the helicopter. In a few minutes, you're at your destination. Most larger companies have a heliport. Quite a few are already using helicopter transportation, but ours will be the best. Reed's notoriety from helping to save Joyce adds a lot, too. He and his wife are going to have more work than they can take care of."

"Thank you, Frank. I would have come up with a way to thank the pilot for what he did, but you did it with class. Thank you. I'm sure that Joyce will thank you..."

"Already has," Wainwright chuckled. "The lady certainly knows how to say it, too. You're one lucky son-of-a-bitch for getting those two."

"Yeah, I know," Jeff said, his voice sincere. "I guess I'm still in shock, maybe always will be, for what has happened in my life. 'Lucky' somehow, doesn't even start to describe it."

"Yeah, me, too," Dave said, having remained quiet since they left the retreat. "I never thought about having three wives until this happened. I can't even imagine having nine."

"Well, you had better rev that imagination of yours up, then," Jeff laughed, "It just might happen to you, too."

Dave sighed. "I hope the good will between all three of them lasts. Man, I'm scared that something will go wrong and they'll have a falling out."

Jeff glanced at his friend for a second, "Your Queen will take care of that, and you will, too, I think. An Alpha's wives are supposed to get along. And once the mental thing develops between them, I think it's darn near impossible for them to not get along. Being aware of the other person's feelings probably goes a long way toward that, not to mention that they don't want to invoke their Alpha's displeasure. I suspect that both Linda and Kim have already decided to love their sister-wives. They expect to, therefore they're already well on their way."

"Logically, I think you're right," Dave said, "but..."

" ... But you have butterflies. Yeah, me, too."

"Hell, Jeff. You should be used to this by now."

"Logically, you're right," Jeff chuckled, "but my stomach has a different idea. I keep telling my women that this thing goes both ways. When we call our mates, it ... ties us to them. Hell, there aren't words to describe it." Jeff wanted to add more, but Bill Madison was in the SUV with them. Frustrated that he couldn't directly discuss the healer in front of Bill, Jeff lapsed into silence as they continued toward the ranch.

-------

Earlier in the day, Virginia and Elizabeth had picked up the girls (Elizabeth's daughters, Cindy and Rachel) where they were visiting relatives in Idaho Springs. As Virginia accelerated up the on-ramp for Interstate 70 toward Denver, Rachel exclaimed, "Hey, wrong way, unless we're heading for Denver."

"Got it in one," Virginia said, suddenly having to slow to let two trucks pass when they didn't move over to let her merge. "Damn road hogs," she muttered as she shot by them a moment later.

"Okaay," Cindy said, drawing out the word. "We're going to Denver. Is this a secret mission, or will you share the reason with us?" she said, nudging her sister who grinned back at her from the other side of the back seat.

Virginia looked over at Elizabeth who was riding beside her in the front seat. "'Secret mission, ' huh?"

Cindy and Rachel glanced at each other again, as both Virginia and Elizabeth giggled about something the girls weren't privy to.

"Well, you two are certainly in a good mood," Cindy said.

"Either that, or they've lost what little is left of their minds," Rachel said in a teasing voice loud enough for the women to hear.

"Hmmm, that might be debatable right now," Virginia mysteriously said. "But, anyway, we're going to a wedding tomorrow night. And I presume you two would like to go, also."

"A wedding?" both pretty girls said as they looked at each other, wondering who it could be.

After a questioning expression from her sister, Cindy continued, "We don't know anyone who is getting married..."

"You've heard your uncle mention Mr. Matthews, the one who donated the vest money? Where we told you Quinton went to meet the assistant DA a couple of days ago."

"Yeah, okay, we've got it. The rich guy on the mountain. Is that where the wedding is?" Rachel said.

Elizabeth turned to better face the girls, "Yep, they're having a wedding — well, actually two."

"So, why should we go to their weddings?" Rachel asked after again looking at her sister. "Are we suddenly on the rich guy's invitation list?"

"Well ... that's a long story," Virginia said. "I just talked to Diana — his wife — on the phone. They're on the way to buy wedding dresses. There are some things that the general public doesn't need to know. We can't tell you much right now. Jeff and Diana will talk to you later, and ... if you pass muster, I guess, then they will tell you more. But right now, Diana said that I could tell you this much..."

-------

After spending several hours finding just the right dresses for the four, plus eating lunch, Virginia closed the trunk with their purchases tucked safely inside. "Uh, we've got one more place to shop," she hesitantly said, looking at her sister.

The girls looked at each other, both noticing the odd expression on Virginia's face, neither missing the exchange between the two women.

"What the heck is going on?" Rachel said. "You two have been acting odd all day."

"Uh..."

"So where are we going now?" Cindy broke in.

"Victoria's Secret," her mother answered in a rush.

"Victoria's Secret?" Rachel repeated, putting her hands on her hips and staring at her mother. "Mom, you haven't bought any lingerie since Dad died. Do you have a boyfriend that you haven't told us about?" She asked, half joking.

"No. Certainly not, as you surely know, since there haven't been any men around the house," she answered, but the instant blush belied her words.

"You do have a boyfriend," Cindy exclaimed, "I can see it in your face."

"I do not. Uh ... I haven't been anywhere without you two, and you know it."

"Well, we've been away a few days. So that's not entirely true," Rachel said.

Virginia didn't comment right away, but had a contemplative look on her face as she listened to her sister being grilled. Finally, "Okay, let's go back in the mall. You can each have a couple of items on me — within reason," she quickly interjected.

"On you?" Elizabeth said. "You've already bought the dresses."

"Yeah, well, the company has been doing well lately."

"So what; it's half mine. I'll buy the lingerie..."

As they went back toward the mall entrance, both women still arguing over who was going to pay, the girls followed a little behind. "They've been up to something while we've been gone. Momma couldn't lie to anyone. She's got a boyfriend."

"Yeah, you're right," Cindy said, "But why is she trying to lie about him? Heck, we would be tickled for her to meet someone." Cindy suddenly stopped and nodded toward Elizabeth. "Hey, did you notice that she's not limping?"

Rachel shot a look at her mother. "Yeah, you're right. And come to think of it, she looks better. Her movements are ... smoother I guess, like before the arthritis," she finished, eyeing her mother as the two women walked in front of them talking and laughing.

"Come on; let's catch up," Cindy said as she yanked the mall door open. "Those two couldn't keep a secret from us when we were kids. They haven't got a chance now."



-------

Chapter 98

THURSDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 26

In Victoria's Secret, Cindy and Rachel held up various items to inspect, animatedly talking among themselves while covertly keeping and eye on the two women several aisles away. "Don't stare," Cindy admonished.

"'Don't stare?'" Rachel repeated, "Mom just showed Aunt Virginia a pair of crotchless panties, and they each kept out a pair to buy. That's not our mother over there."

"What are you getting excited about? We've been sleeping nude with her in that big bed for years."

"Yeah, but nude and crotchless are different. Our mother is having sex with somebody. I guarantee it, no matter what she says. There has to be a boyfriend somewhere ... Oh, shit," Rachel said slapping her hand over her mouth. "It has to be..."

"What? Tell me what you thought of," Cindy said grabbing her sister. "Who is it?"

Rachel's face blushed a furious red, then, "Remember that Mom never lies to us. She knows she can't get away with it, and she used to always tell us not to lie, so she has to set a good example."

"Yeah, well, she just told us she didn't have a boyfriend. So are you saying she has a girlfriend? That doesn't make sense. We've known about the two of them for years..." Cindy said, beginning to be a little aggravated at her sister for drawing things out.

"She's obviously got somebody, and if she doesn't have a boyfriend, then who does that leave?"

"Rachel, this doesn't make sense. The only man she's around is..."

"Exactly."

"What? No fucking way."

"Oh, yes, 'fucking way.' There's no other possibility. She's buying that stuff for Uncle Q."

Both girls stood for a moment staring at each other. "Fuck that," Cindy hissed. "I think you're right. She's beaten us to him. I told you we should have attacked him when we had him alone a couple of weeks ago. Shit."

Rachel thought for a moment, "Well, yeah. This puts a whole new light on what we're going to buy in here. We need to move over a couple of racks. And we need to start making some serious plans, too."

"Second that," Cindy agreed, "but Mom won't let us get away with buying crotchless panties."

"Oh, we're not going to be that blatant. But there are plenty of negligées in here that will show off our breasts while still covering them just enough to tease. Uncle Q is a man. He likes titties."

Shortly, Rachel pulled a white negligée from the rack. Its tiny white flowers and blue trim did little to obscure its near-transparency. With its matching gown and silk panties, the outfit was elegant, but still extremely sexy.

Cindy turned the price tag over. "Wow. No way is Mom going..."

"Wanna bet? She's feeling guilty right now. Pick out something. I'm going to keep this one. Uncle Q is going to shit."

"Yeah ... or something," Cindy said as she rummaged through the sexy sleepwear. "I'm just wondering where we'll be sleeping if this blows up in our face."

"You're the one who figured it out. Are you turning chicken on me?" Rachel said, pausing as she helped search.

"No way," Cindy said as she stared into her sister's eyes. "And, besides, I think you were the one to figure it out first, but we have to be careful, though. We don't want to hurt our mom. She's had enough go wrong, and she's self-conscious about the arthritis, besides. She doesn't think she's pretty any more."

"Mom, not pretty? I wish I could ever be as pretty as she is. But yeah, you're right about that. We've somehow got to make sure we don't compete with her. Now how in the heck are we going to do that and still get in bed with Uncle Q?"

Amazing both girls and making them even more suspicious, neither woman seemed to even blink at the price of the outfits.

Later, after they had driven back to Virginia's, Cindy and Rachel took their purchases to their house to try them on.

-------

"What are we going to do?" Virginia asked her sister as soon as the girls had left. "Quinton told us that he wanted us naked and waiting on him on our knees when he got home."

"Yeah, but that was before we told him we were going to get the girls today, wasn't it? Surely he'll understand."

"Yeah, maybe. But you're not the one who got her ass beat."

"You need to get off that 'beat' thing. He spanked you. And not all that hard, either."

"Bullshit," Virginia said, turning to glare at her sister as they entered the bedroom. "Wait until he does that to you, then tell me that it wasn't that hard. I could hardly lie on my back afterward."

"Yeah, I could see that it hurt, but I'm going to do whatever he says, so I don't think I have anything to worry about. Besides, I want him to do anything he wants with me. But, crap, I doubt I'll be able to do it more than once tonight. My pussy is better, but it isn't completely healed."

Tossing her bags on the bed, Virginia stood for a moment, "I'm going to call him and ask. If it pisses him off, at least I'm trying to do whatever he asks. I want this to work out. I just never expected to be part of a ... harem." Sighing, "Well, if I'm going to be his Queen Bitch like Diana says, I guess I'm going to have to get with the part," she finished with a sick laugh. "Diana also said that if I didn't take the job, that someone else would be his Queen. Want the job?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Nope. I think I'll stay with the second wife position. I'll have fewer decisions to make and probably ... a whole lot less spankings," she finished just to see her sister flinch.

"That's not very funny," Virginia complained.

Chuckling, Elizabeth hugged her. "I thought it was worth a giggle or two. But seriously, I think that calling him would be just fine. Just don't do it on the recorded line," she laughed.

Virginia shivered. "I can just imagine what his reaction would be," she quietly said.

Picking up the phone, mostly because she couldn't think of another solution, she dialed his private number.

"Hey, Babe," he answered after checking the caller ID.

"Hi, Hon. Uh ... we picked up the girls today, and we each bought a dress..."

"Well, that's good. All of you will look nice for the wedding, then."

"Uh, Quinton, you know what you told us to do when you got home?"

The Sheriff thought for a second, suddenly realizing the problem. "You mean with the girls home?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"Hmmm, guess we had better let that slide for the night. We'll talk about it later. What's for dinner?" he asked, changing the subject.

"We're just about ready to start. Do you have anything in particular that you would like?"

The conversation went on for a couple minutes before Virginia hung up with a sigh.

"So, no problem, then?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, and he picked up on it right away. But still ... I think we need to work that in as soon as we can. He seemed to really like that this morning, and I'm pretty sure he's still pissed at me for ... what I did to him for the last years. Oh, shit, Elizabeth, I can't believe I got my head so screwed up."

"Don't dwell on it now," Elizabeth quickly said. "And remember, Scott's death screwed me up so much that it brought on this autoimmune thing. Whatever Jeff did to us seems to have made that go away, but I'm still scared that it will come back. I don't want to get upset again like I did with Scott, just in case it will bring on the disease again."

Virginia, surprising her sister, said, "Let's go get dinner started. Our man will be home in a little while."

Arm in arm, the two pretty sisters started for the kitchen.

-------

Fred walked back in with a giant bowl of popcorn. Putting it on the coffee table, he made another trip to the kitchen, returning with a cooler full of ice and beer.

"I know that none of us is much of a drinker, but I thought a beer would be appropriate tonight."

Wainwright chuckled. "Well, I could think of one or two things that might also be appropriate. Certainly the retreat's wine cellar has an acceptable beverage or two."

"Ah, that's for stuffy ol' rich folks," Fred teased. "This is a man's drink." He almost managed to keep his face straight.

"Well, wine isn't the only thing in the cellar," Wainwright defended. "Now there is a single malt scotch that has..."

"Uh, I had better pass," Captain Madison said.

Deciding that they didn't care what he had in his wine cellar, Frank looked hard at his pilot as they all sat in Carla's living room. "We are not flying anywhere tonight, Bill. You can relax and enjoy yourself."

"Well, there could be an emergency at Saint Louis, or any of your other companies, and we would have to leave out in a hurry. It's happened before."

"Well, with what little we manage to get down you, by the time we get to the airport, your blood alcohol will be zero again, anyway. And we are not flying tonight. Whatever happens will wait until tomorrow, and even then, it would have to be a true emergency. I am not missing those weddings tomorrow night. The earliest that we're leaving is Monday morning, and that's not going to be very early. Now drink up and relax. Get shitfaced if you like. I doubt if Jeff is going to drink too much to drive us back up that mountain."

"Try one," Jeff laughed. "No way am I going to risk a hangover for tomorrow."

"Likewise," Dave said. "Those two are probably going to kill me..." He cut the sentence off as he realized that Linda's father was hearing him talk about his daughter like that. "Sorry," Dave mumbled. "Sometimes, I excel at the ability to insert my foot into my damned mouth."

Bill reached into the cooler and tossed Dave a beer. "Relax. Remember what I told you about her doing to Kathy and me. Nothing like having your daughter walk in on you while you're lying there with your dick still wet. Let alone her reaching over and grabbing hold of it and telling me that she wanted to be with me for a night after she got married. Besides," he said with a bit of false bravado, "if I had a son, I would expect him to do me proud on his wedding night. Why not my daughter?"

At Fred's questioning look, Dave chuckled as he opened his beer. "Well, don't look so shocked. She's in love with her dad, but held it in check I guess. Then somehow, I was thrown into the mix. When she realized that Jeff and Arlene were father and daughter, she made up her mind to spend at least one night with her dad — with my permission, which I gave..."

"And I can only imagine how hard that was," Bill broke in. "And regardless of what she says, she might still change her mind after she's married to you, Dave."

"Yeah, and she might not. She's reminded me about it, and assured me that she loves me, wanting to know if it was going to hurt me."

"And is it?" Bill quietly asked as he opened his own beer and took a tentative sip.

"I ... don't think so. How can I refuse her? I'm going to be making love to two other women — Evie and Kim."

"We'll talk about it later, after you two are married. I can tell her no a lot easier than I can rebuild our relationship. Just promise me that you will let me know how you really feel about it before it happens. And I'll promise you that there won't be any hard feelings on my part if you decide it's not a go."

"It's not here yet," Dave said. "Too soon to tell, but I told her she could. We're both Alphas, we'll ... know before then."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Bill agreed.

"Okay, if you two are through reassuring each other," Fred laughed, "Let's watch a little blood and guts to get our minds — read that Dave's and Jeff's minds — off their slaughter tomorrow." Laughing he pointed the remote and hit Play.

-------

The Sheriff, his wife and two nieces finished their dinner. The girls volunteered to clean up, and since they had already washed the cooking utensils as dinner was being prepared, there wasn't much to do.

After Cindy and Rachel finished in the kitchen, they went looking for the others. Unusual for them, Virginia, red faced, was snuggled in Quinton's lap in a recliner while Elizabeth sat nearby, but there had been audible movement just before the girls entered the room, causing them to become even more suspicious about what had been going on.

After sitting and watching a sitcom for a few minutes, Cindy winked at her sister, then said to the others, "We stayed up late last night, plus neither of us got as much studying done as we should have. We're going home and put in an hour or so, then go to bed."

"Okay, Love," Elizabeth answered her daughter. "I'll be over in a while." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "On second thought, don't wait up for me, I might just spend the night over here since you're going to bed early, anyway."

The girls gave a perfunctory kiss to everyone, then left to walk the short distance to their house.

"So, are you thinking the same thing I am?" Rachel said as they walked between the houses holding hands. "And ... you should have warned me before you told them we didn't get much studying done. We were so bored that's about all we did," she laughed.

Cindy looked at her sister and giggled. "Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn't lose it when I said that."

"So are we going to do what I think we're going to do?" Rachel grinned as they walked up on their porch.

"Yep," Cindy said. "We'll wait thirty minutes or so, then sneak in the side door. They're up to something, and you can bet they didn't buy those crotchless panties for each other. And I can't ever remember seeing Aunt Virginia sitting in Uncle Q's lap."

"Do you really think that Mom is fucking Uncle Q?" Rachel asked as she opened the door wide for her sister.

As Cindy walked in, "Yeah, it does seem farfetched, doesn't it? But she blushed like crazy when we accused her of having a boyfriend — and denied it. She knows better than to try to lie to us, so, like we talked about before, that only leaves one possibility, no matter how farfetched it sounds."

"So, what are we going to do for the next thirty minutes?" Rachel asked, grinning.

"You have to ask?" Cindy said bringing her lips to her sister's.

-------

Thirty minutes later, stifling a giggle, Cindy very quietly inserted her key into the side door of her uncle's house. Having already left their shoes on the stoop, the girls made their way down the hallway. The lights were off in the living room and the TV was silent. More confident now, they threw the sacks on the couch. Quickly changing into their new purchases, they crept down the hall.

"What if the door is locked?" Rachel whispered as they neared the bedroom.

"I think I know how we can still get in, but let's not worry about that until we have to."

Shortly, they stood at the bedroom door, their hearts in their mouths. "Oh, I hope this doesn't blow up in our faces," Rachel worried, her whisper barely audible to her sister.

In the dim light of the hallway, Cindy whispered back, "We're just going to peek. If they're not doing anything, then we rethink our situation, but I think we're right about what's going on." Shortly, she very slowly turned the doorknob. Amazing both of them, it actually turned. Holding her breath, Cindy pushed gently on the door, hoping it wouldn't squeak.

Before the door was open enough for them to see the bed, the pheromones hit them. "Oh, shit," Cindy whispered, her nipples popping.

Rachel stumbled against her sister who grabbed her arm to steady her.

Pushing the door open enough to see, both girls froze. Quinton had Elizabeth's legs on his shoulders, his hips slowly moving back and forth. From their angle, the girls could easily see the junction of the two on the bed as the big man pushed his cock all the way to his balls. They were trying out Elizabeth's crotchless panties. She whined and tried to wiggle her hips, but with her knees pushed back to her breasts, she could move little.

Quinton pulled back until only the head of his cock was left inside the pretty woman, then suddenly rammed forward. Elizabeth bucked and whimpered. He pulled back very slowly, hesitated, then slammed forward again. After several more times, he dispensed with the slow withdrawal, and thrust hard with a steady rhythm.

Elizabeth's whining became guttural grunts, accompanied by an occasional, "Fuck ... fuck ... fuck..." that coincided with his thrusts.

Without realizing it, both girls had begun to massage and pull on their nipples. Looking at each other for a second, their eyes wide, they looked back at the couple on the bed.

Quinton slid a big hand under Elizabeth's ass, pulling her pussy to him as the speed of his strokes increased. Elizabeth shivered, her legs thrashing as she screamed, "I'm coming."

Cindy and Rachel had now reached the bed, neither having even thought about it until they were there. "Oh, shit," Rachel whispered as she looked at her sister.

"Yeah," Cindy said as she put a knee on the bed.

As the girls flanked him on the bed, Quinton Tate paid little attention. For one thing, he was just short of coming; for another, he expected Virginia back from the bathroom shortly, so paid little attention to someone crawling onto the bed beside him. That it was two someones, didn't quite penetrate.

As Virginia walked back into the room from the vanity area, having used the bathroom and sat for a while letting her sperm-drooling pussy drain a little, she opened her mouth to say something to her husband about not taking too long with Elizabeth since her pussy was still sore. The message got scrambled in her brain when she saw her nieces wearing their new negligées, kneeling on either side of her husband and sister, their hands gently rubbing his back and ass. Quinton had his mouth glued to Elizabeth's, with one hand under her ass and the other around her shoulder pulling her to him as he pounded her pussy like that big dick of his was a pile driver.

Elizabeth was trying to scream, but it was muffled by Quinton's mouth covering hers. Virginia thought to admonish the girls, but her own pussy spasmed in sympathy to the obviously coming Elizabeth.

Quinton's rhythm grew erratic. Then a few strokes later, he slammed his ass forward one last time, pulled his mouth from Elizabeth's and bellowed like a bull. His balls jerked up tight to the base of his dick and he shivered all over. A second later, Elizabeth's body thrashed again, her legs kicking as the big man's sperm splashed against her womb.

Both girls pulled on their nipples, obviously in the midst of orgasm, then slumped onto Quinton who seemed to still be oblivious of them as he panted and kissed Elizabeth.

But a second later, something percolated through the fog of sex in Quinton's mind. "Damn,  that was good," he whispered as he pushed back on trembling arms, his cock still buried in the gasping woman, who ... suddenly saw her daughters.

At the same time, Quinton's mind finally processed that there was someone on both sides of him, then, "What are you two..." Quinton started at a volume just shy of rattling the windows.

"Hush," Virginia said pushing against her husband to get his attention as she sat on the bed just in front of Cindy. "They can't help it, Quinton. Remember what Jeff and Diana told us. And ... even after you had fucked me, I could feel your pheromones when I walked back into the room just now. They almost overwhelmed me and we've been married all these years. The girls have no way to resist."

Quinton glanced first at Cindy, then at Rachel, quickly snapping his head away trying to find a neutral direction. A neutral direction that didn't involve his two lovely, and quite glassy-eyed, nieces who had the tops of their negligées pulled down, exposing beautiful, firm breasts. His cock, which had started to deflate after he had come, reversed direction, coming back to full hardness in a couple of seconds.

Oh, shit. It wasn't a fluke then,  he marveled, referring to how many times he had come last night. But he had already pulled out of Elizabeth, and now was trying to find a way to sit up that didn't involve sticking his dick in the face of one of the girls, both of whom were not co-operating in the least, but were trying to get closer to him, not to say anything about reaching out to touch his pussy-wet cock.

"Oh, my goodness," Cindy whispered as she moved down the bed to get closer to her uncle, her eyes accidentally coming to rest on her mother's groin. Elizabeth's pussy was still standing mostly open, the crotchless panties framing it as an obscene amount of thick semen oozed out.

"I, uh, thought ... I mean, I read where guys come a couple of spoonfuls..." Cindy said.

Virginia glanced at her sister's pussy. Suddenly feeling proud of her husband, "Well, he's always come a lot. But lately he's coming even more. Apparently, Alphas do that," she finished, smiling at her husband.

"What's an Alpha?" Rachel asked, still staring at Quinton's dick, suddenly realizing that Cindy's hand was reaching for it.

"Hmmm. We'll let Diana and Jeff tell you about Alphas. But for now, let's just say that Quinton has always been one, but lately something has happened to bring some of his Alpha abilities out."

"Look, ladies, this is just a wee bit embarrassing..." Quinton started.

"Oh, come on, Quinton. We're not impressed. The big, bad Sheriff embarrassed over a couple of cute girls looking at his dick," Virginia said, causing Quinton to wonder what the hell had happened to his wife. From all-out jealousy of a few days ago to ... the way she was acting now.

"Look, Honey," he said trying to extract himself from the females, who were more or less boxing him in on the bed, "I can't just sit here with my dick..."

"Oh, hush, Quinton. You have just made love to two of us, and it looks like you have two more women to take care of."

Tate stared at his wife, certain that someone had stolen Virginia and replaced her with a sexy twin, or something. "Virginia, what the fuck is going on? A couple of days ago you about had a hemorrhage when Cramer kissed me thank you, now you're calmly sitting here — three of us naked as the day we were born, and the girls with little more on — and you're calmly discussing Alphas..."

"Quinton, Elizabeth and I have discussed this ... well, we've at least talked about it being obvious that Cindy and Rachel love you. And ... well, Diana made it very clear to me that I would either be your Queen Bitch — or someone else would. After you made love to me, I lay there and watched you very tenderly making love to my sister. She's obviously so deeply in love with you that ... well, I don't know 'that, ' but she is. The jealousy I've had was mostly because I was afraid that you were going to leave me for someone else, because I wasn't doing my 'duty' as a wife.

"I was messed up. We've discussed this, and you spanked my ass about my attitude. Something has changed in me. Instead of jealousy ... I stood there after I came out of the bathroom and just looked at you. You and Elizabeth were finishing, and Cindy and Rachel were just touching you, adoringly, as they pulled on their nipples. I felt pride wash over me the way I used to feel jealousy, only more intensely, if you can believe that," she grinned.

"So what the fuck are we going to do?" he said, his voice sounding odd. Maybe because each girl now had a hand wrapped around his dick.



-------

Chapter 99

THURSDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 26

Jeff, Dave, Frank Wainwright and Captain Madison chatted as the Expedition powered up the mountain.

Jeff drove with Dave riding beside him in the front passenger seat. Bill Madison sat slumped against his side of the vehicle in the second seat, his eyes closed. Wainwright, almost constantly grinning, sat on the other side, but alert.

Bill had four beers, more than he had at one time since the first year of college. Wainwright had considerably more.

"So, I didn't think you liked beer," Dave said just to mess with Frank.

"I don't. Uh, well, until after the first couple, then they tend to taste better," Frank said, but the last word sounded more like butter, than better.

"I thought it was us that were supposed to be celebrating, or whatever," Dave said, grinning over at Jeff.

Madison, having heard the remark, opened one eye, "If I have a headache tomorrow I am going to be displeased, my illustrious boss," he said glancing to his right.

Wainwright, now slumped back in his seat, let out a snuffling snore in answer.

"I am not carrying him in the house," Dave declared.

Jeff wound up with that chore, but to expedite things, he parked in the inside garage at the other end of the retreat, much closer to Frank and Margaret's suite. Dave did help Jeff get the snoring Frank out of the SUV. Shortly, Jeff was walking down the hall with Frank casually draped over his shoulder.

The women had obviously been watching the security monitor. Margaret met them at the suite, holding the door open with her back as Jeff came through with Frank. Margaret waved her hand in front of her face as she caught a whiff of Frank's breath.

The pressure on Frank's stomach from lying across Jeff's shoulder, or possibly hanging with his head down as Jeff walked along with him, had its effect, not to say anything about the beer he drank. Feeling the heaving beginning, Jeff sped up and at least got Frank to the bathroom before the inevitable happened. He didn't, however, get Wainwright completely clear of his shoulder. The first, "Baaahhhp," went down Jeff's back, the second one caught him on the back of his neck, shoulder and part of his chest before he got his friend turned toward the commode. There were several more almost projectile vomitings as Frank Wainwright knelt before the porcelain bowl.

"I'll stay with him," Margaret said as she took over from Jeff in supporting her heaving mate.

"Ah, shit," Wainwright sighed in a trembling voice as Margaret accepted a wet washcloth from Jeff and wiped her lover's face with it. "Now I remember why I don't drink beer. Oh, shit ... uurp," he gagged as his empty stomach tried to turn itself wrong-side out again.

"Get your shirt off and toss it in the shower," Margaret said, fighting to not giggle at Jeff, who was turning a lovely shade of green.

Jeff quickly followed her instructions while trying to hold his breath. There were disadvantages to having a super keen sense of smell. Jeff was wearing a long-sleeve pullover shirt with a tee-shirt under it. Pulling them out of his pants, he leaned into the shower, and bending forward, rapidly stripped both shirts off at the same time, dropping them to the shower floor. Realizing his mistake just in time, he snatched a towel and threw it around his shoulders to conceal the healer.

As Jeff stepped into the hallway, Bill, who had been trying to see past Dave, asked, "Is he okay? First he was fine, then suddenly asleep, then projectile vomiting. I've seen him drinking before — well, at least drinking wine — but I've never seen him do that. Hell, I've never even seen him tipsy."

Jeff, admonishing himself for almost allowing Bill to see the healer, said, "Well, I guess we now know why he doesn't drink beer. And I'll bet he's really going to pay for it in the morning when the hangover hits."

Dave sniffed, exaggerating the action. "One of us smells a little ripe," he said, pointedly looking at Jeff.

"Well, it might have something to do with having puke down my neck, Smartass," he grinned. "I'm going to take a shower and change clothes. See you guys in the morning."

As Jeff walked quickly down the hall toward their suite, {{{ I do not understand why your friend continued to drink beer if he does not like it. }}}

Well,  Jeff thought to Little One, that's a good question. I suspect that he did it to show his friendship and trust for us, to celebrate with us and to show his support. And like he said, after a couple, and the alcohol starts taking affect, the rest go down easier. But he's going to pay for it in the morning.

{{{ Why should he 'pay for it' in the morning? }}}

That's just a figure of speech — uh, like some of the other things that we've talked about before. I meant that he will probably have a hangover in the morning and feel bad. He'll regret drinking all that beer, no matter what the reason,  Jeff said, fighting to keep from sniggering.

{{{ But why should he have this ... hangover? }}}

Well, we all do if we drink as much as Frank did. Some of it is our body telling us the alcohol wasn't good for us, and some of it is caused by our body being dehydrated. The beer is a diuretic, and most times we urinate out far more of our fluids than we replace with water, because we're too busy drinking alcohol,  he said with a mental grin. If Margaret thinks to get a couple of glasses of water into him — assuming his stomach will allow it — he probably won't have as much of a hangover in the morning.

{{{ But he will not... }}} Little One started, then cut off communication without completing the thought, leaving Jeff wondering.

-------

Arlene brought Joyce and Caitlin to the Matthews' suite. Diana was seated in one of the luxurious seats near the bed. Both young women were wondering what was going on when Arlene came to summon them, and now that they saw Diana, seated, waiting for them, their apprehension level went up dramatically.

Seeing the turmoil on their faces, Diana quickly got up and grabbed them both in an awkward hug. "Oh, my. You two look like you're going to testify in court or something. I apologize. I just wanted to ask you a couple of questions, and thought this would be a better place to do so."

"Well, we are going to marry your husband tomorrow night, so when Arlene said that you wanted to see us in your suite..."

"I'm sorry, Mom. I guess I didn't think, either, and I didn't pay much attention to their faces as we walked over here."

"Sit," Diana said, "This isn't the Inquisition," her tinkling laugh bringing a smile to Joyce's and Caitlin's lips despite their previous worry.

Diana hesitated, waiting as Jennie handed the women, including Diana and Arlene, glasses filled with ice. Melissa and Ann poured Coke for them.

Now that everyone was seated with a drink and comfortable, Diana continued, "We've planned our weddings, and everything seems to be set. Things have been happening quickly in the last few days, and although many things have happened since you two have come to live here, little actual time has passed. So I guess that what I'm trying to say is that things might well have happened a little faster than you might have wished.

"All of us, including our Alpha, have been under stress — a lot of it. You were almost killed, Joyce. And you, Caitlin had to go through the terror of nearly losing the person that you loved most on this earth. Our Alpha has kissed, teased, and made love to you in most every way, other than actually entering your bodies. Without a doubt, he has called you to be his mates ... But still, I have to ask if all of this was too fast for you? If you had rather wait a week or two, or however long you need until you feel comfortable with this, we will fully understand..."

"No," Joyce broke in with her eyes locked to Caitlin's. When Caitlin nodded, Joyce turned to fully face Diana. "True we're still torn up about Ben, but Caitlin has ... spoken with him in her dreams." Then quickly, "Oh, I know that sounds..."

"It does not," Helen interrupted. "The hea ... uh, the changes that were made in us have produced several unexplainable occurrences. Also, Fred has... talked to his recently dead wife. And...  Jeff knew you were in trouble that night, Joyce. Knew it. None of us here will ridicule either of you in the slightest way. We might deluge you with questions, but so far, out of respect for your loss, we've managed to curb our curiosity — well, at least to reasonable proportions."

"Thank you," Caitlin said, entering the conversation. "But Daddy has given his blessings to our, uh, union — our marriage. I've talked to him several times recently and will try again tonight. He says that all of you are good people and he has approved of Jeff for our husband. He even joked that we shouldn't have to worry about money," but there were tears in her eyes, despite her trying to make light of the situation.

"So you two are positive that you are ready to go forward with the wedding?"

"Absolutely," Joyce said.

"Definitely," from Caitlin.

"Good," Diana said. "Now, I suspect that our mate will drop by to talk with you two before bedtime. By now, he's probably figured out that he won't get to see either of you until tomorrow night, and I imagine he'll have similar questions of his own. Since he has gone through this before a few times," she said with a grin as the other wives joined in with a chuckle or giggle, "he isn't as ... shall we say, disturbed about a woman's sudden compelling need to be his mate. Poor Dave is another matter altogether, though.

"Evie called me a few minutes ago and told me that Dave is worried sick that Kim didn't have a real choice in this, since he had called her, and is worried about Linda as well. Evie said that she had repeatedly reminded him that Kim and her whole family had loved him for years, and it was only logical that Kim would fall deeply for him after puberty hit. He is even worried about Bill giving in so quickly about his marrying Linda, wondering if he (Dave) might have had something to do with that, too.

"She reminded him that Bill respected him and has had plenty of opportunity to communicate any concerns about his daughter marrying Dave.

"I told Evie to tell Dave that Joshua gave his blessing quickly, in part because Dave was an Alpha, but he had not compelled Josh — that had come out of love and respect for both Dave and Evie by people who had known them for years and, indeed, even considered them to be part of their family. Being an Alpha was just part of it.

"But, nevertheless, I expect that Jeff will come by to see you two one last time before you become his mates. He'll probably be a little shook, so make allowances for him," she smiled.

"But he's done this so many times..." Caitlin started.

Diana broke in with, "And your two marriages are just as important to him as any of the others — mine included. Never doubt that he loves you with all his heart. He frequently tells us that this calling thing that an Alpha does is two-way. He loves us just as much as we love him; although, I can't imagine how that is possible, considering how we all feel about him. But from the way he treats us, makes love to us, and gets upset when anything happens to us, it is true."

Caitlin glanced at the bed. "I can't believe that in a couple of nights I'm going to be lying on that enormous bed with my new husband making love to me — with all of you watching," she said winding down, her face flushing.

"We'll be doing more than watching, " Laura said, a smirk on her face. "You might not feel it so intensely the first few times, but soon you'll be feeling him making love to each of us — well as long as you can remain conscious. The ... connection has increased lately. Although we can't feel you — yet — the way we can one another, we'll probably know when you orgasm, even as far away as the honeymoon suite is. Next to him with a hand touching him or the woman he's making love to, it's almost as intense as when he's actually making love to us."

They continued to talk for a while, laughing and cutting up until, "Now shoo you two. You want to be there when your future husband comes by to kiss you goodnight."

After hugs all around, laughing, Joyce and Caitlin hurried back to their suite to wait for their fiancé.

-------

A little earlier, just before the men got back, Evie, Linda and Kim stood in Evie's bedroom. "Okay, since we're basically the same size, this should fit you," she said pulling out a soft pink teddy and holding it up in front of Kim. "And I have a new pair of sexy panties that you can wear, too."

"I guess I should have gone home and packed, but..."

"No way," Evie laughed. "We weren't letting you out of our sight."

"I have a new panty and bra set that I want to wear on my — uh, our — wedding night," she said, grinning at Linda. "I bought them a few weeks ago and put the set in my special drawer that I call my hope chest. The only problem is, that's just about all there is in it," she said, laughing. "I can't believe this is happening. It's like a dream.

"I've dreamed for years of marrying Dave," she said looking down and clasping her hands in front of her. "Heck, since I had my first period, I guess. It started out as a little girl's dream, but now..." Her voice broke and her eyes welled up.

Before Evie could grab her, Linda did. "Same with me," she said. "Well, not about Dave, it was just my knight in shining armor type of thing. But when I met Dave, it wasn't long before I knew who the knight was. But I guess I'm just as amazed as you that this is happening to me — and that my father would go along with it. I know that they're all Alphas, but..."

"Wait, wait," Kim said sitting on the bed and looking at the other two. "I keep hearing about these ... Alphas. But what are Alphas? This is ... strange, to say the least."

"We'll spend some time with Diana after the wedding. But just to give you a little of the idea, Alphas are special men who have abilities that most other men don't have. Most of the abilities have lain dormant, or have atrophied throughout the ages until the powers are only a faint shadow of what we think they once were."

Sitting beside Kim and taking her hand, Evie continued, "Jeff, Dave, Frank, Bill, Fred — whom you haven't met, yet — and Sheriff Tate all have Alpha abilities that have been enhanced to a certain degree. Their abilities have been awakened, I guess you could say, and they are growing, but slowly. We're not sure what the end result will be.

"One thing that we have come to find out is that Alphas can 'call' their mates, and sometimes they also release their pheromones when they think sexual thoughts. Jeff got into a little trouble in a restaurant when he was teasing with the girls and the waitresses walked into the small room they were in. Dave had a similar experience. But calling a mate is more than just putting out pheromones to excite a woman. Diana tells me there is also a mental ability that they use at the same time.

"When the woman responds, the Alpha and the woman are 'tied' together. The male is affected just as much as the female, according to Jeff. And by the look on Dave's face today, I would say that is true."

"Well, I don't know," Kim said, a blush creeping up her throat and onto her face. "I've loved Dave since I can remember, but for the last month or so, I can't get him off my mind."

"That's about when his Alpha abilities were, uh ... turned on, or at least the process was started to enhance them," Evie said squeezing Kim's hand.

"But, we're just sitting here talking about our man. I mean, well, I've known you all my life, Evie. And you know how much I love you, but still, I can't imagine you ... sharing your man with me — with us."

"A couple of months ago, it wouldn't have happened ... well I might have under the right circumstances since I've been so close to you for so long, but our sharing, according to Diana, is part of the Alpha's influence, plus ... the influence on ourselves that the ... process has awakened."

"On, us?" Kim exclaimed. "How are we affected? I mean..."

"I can't tell you that right now, but Linda has had the ... process applied to her..."

"And, I can remember better than I ever could, and schoolwork is quicker and easier," Linda offered.

Diana and Jeff will tell you more, later, Kim. But the whole thing is a secret that we must keep in the family. And I don't know how much more Jeff will tell you. But we've told you about as much as we can right now. You will, however, notice several other changes. At least, I think they will happen," she finished, thinking about how Jeff's wives always knew where he was, and how she was beginning to be able to do so with Dave.

Wanting to believe because it was Evie telling her, and having felt something that she guessed had to be Dave's pheromones, the young woman smiled, wondering what was happening. Whether or not her strange tale was true, Evie obviously believed it.

Whatever this is, I'm going to wind up with Dave as my husband. I'll have to share him, but until a few hours ago, I didn't have a hope of even that much. Odd how I feel drawn to Linda. She is younger than I am, and she's darned pretty. Oh my gosh, what are we going to do on our wedding night? Who'll go first? Evie acts as if she is going to be there, too. Oh, I'm embarrassed to ask. I'm so confused, but confused or not, I'm going to marry Dave. Nothing is going to stand in the way of that.

I've read stories about men with more than one wife, and Evie tells me that Jeff has seven — nine tomorrow night. How can one man have nine wives? Do they take turns sleeping with him? Evie has already bought this big bed for the four of us, but the bed is obviously big enough for even more. Is she expecting Dave to take more wives? Oh, I hope not.

I can't believe he's going to make love to us with the others watching. Oh, gosh, I hope they don't expect me to make love to them. There's not a gay bone in my body.

"Do you have problems, Baby?" Evie said as she took Kim's hand again.

Linda let out a quiet, obviously embarrassed giggle. "Scared half to death, probably," she said, "just like me."

Evie flopped back onto her back on the bed, then tugged the girls back with her. Hugging first Linda, then Kim. When Evie released them, they both propped on an elbow, turning slightly onto their sides to face Evie.

"If you two think you're scared, what about me? I've chosen to open my marriage to two beautiful young women, way younger than me. What if my husband decides that he doesn't need the old woman any more?"

"Oh, Evie," Linda said, "that's ridiculous and you know it. Dave practically worships the ground you walk on, and besides, we're — well at least I am — just girls. In addition, you don't look more than twenty-five. I think that Kim will agree with me that we can't compete with you. I haven't known you for long, but you two haven't even had any cross words in that time..."

"We've had a differences of opinion over the years — well many of them. Sometimes I can't believe that a property will turn a profit, and I've argued with Dave about it. Back when we were struggling, some of those arguments were intense. But in a way, you're right, there were arguments, but we quit before we got to the stage where anger took over. Besides, even before the ... uh, enhancement, Dave was usually right. After a while, I just asked if he was sure, bit my tongue and shut up. Now, he visualizes things — I guess you would call it — and I have no clue how he gets from point A to point B sometimes when he's planning things. More like point A to point C, completely skipping B. It frustrates the hell out of me, and I try to shut my mouth, because he tends to be right. I just don't understand his logic, or whatever it is that he uses."

-------

Much later, Dave, Evie, Kim and Linda sat in Dave and Evie's living room. Dave relaxed in the middle of the couch, Evie snuggled under his left arm with Kim snuggled under his right. Linda sat on the floor leaning back between his legs.

"So where am I going to sleep tonight?" Kim asked.

"With me," Linda quickly answered before Evie could respond. "Of course there are tons of rooms if you had rather be by yourself," she quickly added.

"No, we might as well get used to it," Kim said, a smile in her voice.

"Exactly," Linda quickly added. Standing, she took Kim's hand. "Come on, grab your things. We've got a lot to talk about." Plopping down in Dave's lap, she kissed him hungrily, giggling as she felt his manhood press against her bottom through their clothes.

"Your turn," Linda said when she eventually broke the kiss and stood.

A couple of minutes later, Linda led a dazed Kim to her suite. They had a lot to talk about and a lot to learn about each other.

-------

Jeff came by to say goodnight to Joyce and Caitlin, and had a conversation with them much as Diana had predicted. After assurances that they were, indeed, ready for the marriage, Jeff kissed each of them. After a light makeout session, he reluctantly told them he would see them tomorrow night for dinner, and then the wedding.

Both women clung to him, reluctant to let him go. Eventually, they released him to go to his wives, admonishing him to save some for tomorrow night.

Laughing, he left their suite and headed for his waiting wives.

-------

Bill and Kathy sat on the couch in his suite. He had brushed his teeth and used mouthwash when he realized that she could smell his breath.

"So you guys had a good time?" she asked after they had kissed and snuggled awhile.

"Yeah. I guess we really did. I can't believe that Mr. Wainwright drank as much as he did. He's usually so conservative. Heck, I haven't drunk four beers in a week since I graduated college, let alone four in a row. But, yeah, we cut up and had a ball. We teased Jeff and Dave just like they were getting married for the first time, and heck, they acted like it, especially Dave. I swear, he's as nervous as that proverbial whore in church," he finished, chuckling.

"And are you going to be that way the night before our wedding?" she asked.

"Baby, if I didn't have to wait for my divorce to be final, you would be my wife right now, if you would have me."

"I've bought my dress; you know that. It's hanging in my closet across the hall."

"So why don't we make it a triple wedding?" he joked.

The laughter he expected didn't happen. "I said that I wouldn't spend the night with you until we are married, but the divorce won't be final for a long time. A long time. Diana and Evie think these weddings are just as real as their first ones. Could you, uh, ... think the same way?"

"Kathy, I want you. I want you to be mine. You know I have the ring. Saying my vows in front of my friends means a lot more to me than a piece of paper with our names on it."

-------

The phone rang in the Matthews' bedroom. "Hello," a groggy Arlene answered. Then, "Sure. Hang on."

"Mom," she said handing the phone to Diana who was lying on her back recovering.

"Diana," she said, trying not to mumble. After a moment of listening, "Sure. Come on down."

Quickly getting up, she glanced at the jumble of clothes near the bed. Knowing it would probably take a while to sort out her clothes from the pile, she headed for the dresser, instead. Pulling out a tee-shirt and a pair of shorts, she threw them on the counter, got a washcloth, wet it, and quickly cleaned her drooling pussy as best she could. Going back into the bedroom, she pulled on the shorts and shirt. "Kathy has to talk to me right away."

"Uh, we'll wait for you," Jeff said taking his mouth off Laura's nipple for a moment.

"No go ahead. She probably won't be long."

"You sure?" Jeff said before resuming his nursing.

"Yeah. Laura has already had to wait until last. I'll be fine. I'll be back as soon as I can."

A moment later, she closed the bedroom door behind her only seconds before there was a knock on the outside door to the sitting room.

Diana opened the door and greeted Kathy. Both women sat on the love seat, turning slightly toward each other. Kathy opened her mouth to say something, when she took in Diana's appearance. Even with tousled hair, Diana was beautiful. Her long breasts swayed as she settled into a comfortable position, her plump nipples tenting the tight tee-shirt, and a look... Oh, crap,  Kathy thought. She's just made love. No one could mistake that look. But with her. Oh my, she's sexy. I'm not into girls, but even so, it's hard for me to keep my eyes off her breasts. Oh, shit, she just caught me looking.

Diana grinned and quietly said, "You said that you needed to talk to me?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," Kathy blurted. "I, uh. Oh, I'm just going to ask. Could we possibly make it a triple wedding?"

"You and Bill want to get married when..." Suddenly, Diana looked ... preoccupied. Reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, she quickly lit one, then pulled hard on it. Turning her head, she blew the smoke toward the ceiling. After only a few seconds, she put the cigarette out in an ashtray, clamping her legs tightly together.

"If it would cause problems ... Uh ... We got to talking about how long it is until Bill's divorce becomes final. We make love — as you know — but I've told him that I won't spend the whole night with him until we're married. I know it's silly, but..."

Instead of answering, Diana arched her head back, shivering, sweat popping out on her forehead, her nipples poking out even more through the thin shirt. Kathy could suddenly smell aroused woman. Diana bit her lip and tensed, the shiver becoming more pronounced as she sucked in a deep breath, desperately wanting to put her hand between her legs. After a moment, she relaxed, slumping into the seat, her breathing heavy.

"Wow," Kathy could not help saying.

A flushed Diana smiled weakly at her friend. "Sorry about that. I thought I could get by, but I guess I'm too near them. I couldn't control it. He was making love to Laura. We're very close. She's my handmaiden according to the, uh..." She cut herself off before she spoke about the healer.

Kathy sat quietly for a moment, then, "So you can actually feel it when one of your sister-wives has an orgasm, like you said?"

"'Feel it?'" Diana chuckled wanting desperately to go throw herself at her husband. "If I'm touching Jeff or the woman he's making love to, it's almost as if I become her ... All of us are that way. There aren't words to describe what it is."

"You're beautiful," Kathy blurted before she could stop herself.

Diana smiled at her, realizing that Kathy had just embarrassed herself. "Thank you." Then quickly to change the subject, "So you and Bill want to get married tomorrow night?"

-------

Jeff looked at his watch as he paused outside Linda and Kathy's suite. One o'clock. Evie told Diana that Kim was going to spend the night with Linda, but cautioned her to tell me that the girls were planning a gab session to get acquainted and might be up for awhile. I sure hope they're asleep when I open that door. Another night of sitting in a corner while Little One does her thing. I'm already sleepy, but all I'm going to get is a catnap in the corner. I'm definitely going to take a nap tomorrow. I have a feeling that I'm not going to get much sleep tomorrow night.

As he stopped before Linda's door in the double suite, Little One's mental voice touched his mind. {{{ They are both lightly sleeping. Open the door quietly. }}}

As soon as Jeff pushed the door open, the blue beams reached out for the girls, and their sleep deepened. Jeff quietly walked to Kim's side of the bed. Smiling at the two young women snuggled together, he pulled the sheet back and placed Little One on Kim's shoulder. The nebulous blue glow surrounded the healer as Jeff sat in a corner and closed his eyes.



-------

Chapter 100

FRIDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 27

Having taken his Gore-Tex running outfit out of the closet the night before, Jeff dropped it on the table while he started the coffee maker going. Even though the outside temperature was twelve degrees Fahrenheit, there was no wind at the moment. Although he had run in colder weather a few times, it had been several years. A warm day combined with the snowplow had left the road mostly clear, but the temperature had dropped again during the night. I need to be careful this morning. Diana, not to mention Joyce and Caitlin, will not be pleased if I bust my ass on a slick spot on my wedding day.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he took a sip and set the cup on the table. Putting on a long-sleeve tee-shirt, he pulled on his Gore-Tex pants, put a belt with his holstered .45 on, then slipped on the matching ultra thin jacket and zipped it up. Using the Velcro at the bottom of the jacket, he attached it to the pants' tabs all around forming a tight fit that would keep his body warmth in. After putting on his running shoes, he tightened the Velcro on the cuffs of his pants.

Wiping a little Vaseline around his nostrils and mouth to keep the air from chapping him as he breathed, he downed the rest of his coffee, slipped on a pair of light gloves, and was ready to go. The Gore-Tex running suit was a Christmas gift from Diana and Arlene four years ago. Although he had read about the material and had seen other distance runners wearing the outfits, he had still been skeptical when he first donned the suit. It was so ridiculously thin; it just could not keep you warm. And if you weren't exerting energy to produce body heat, it wouldn't. But it kept in body heat while wicking out sweat, and was a good rain suit as well. Once you started running, it would do more toward keeping a runner warm than other materials many times as thick or layered.

Going out the back, he began his jog. The twelve degrees with only the paper-thin outfit on hit him like an ice bath. Slow-jogging for the first hundred yards, he wished that he had put a heavier jacket on. I could have worn a coat. When my body heat came up, I could have dropped the jacket beside the road until I got back. Screw this,  he thought as he ramped up his speed sooner than he usually did, striving to warm his body.

By the time he reached the bottom of the drive, the Gore-Tex was doing its job and he pulled the zipper partway down on the jacket as his body heat became uncomfortable. Smiling, he slowed for the turn onto the county road, then pushed his speed back up. A mile later, he unzipped the jacket another couple of inches, hardly aware that he had done so as his mind cleared and reached that point that distance runners call free association. His mind opened to Little One a little more, and they briefly talked about her master's race, then she hit him with a bomb that shook him to his core.

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Margaret had slipped out of bed a few minutes before the alarm clock went off. Getting the pan and large metal cooking spoon she had hidden after borrowing them from Evie last night, she snuck back into the bedroom. Quietly walking up to the bed, fighting to not giggle like a schoolgirl, she took a breath, then next to Frank's head maniacally beat the pan with the spoon.

Frank sat up like he had been shot. "What the fuck..." he said looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

When that was all he said, she set up the clatter again.

"Have you lost your ever-loving mind?" he said, scratching his head and staring at her. "And by the way, that titty looks great," he said, nodding to her breast that had fallen out of her negligée as she clashed the cooking utensils together.

She wound down and just stared at him. "You don't have a headache?" she asked in an odd voice after a last halfhearted clang.

"Uh, nooo," he said pausing to think.

"You drank a dozen fucking beers and you don't have a headache," she accused.

"Uh, well, no. I feel rested, and ... uh, that titty looks like the nipple would fit my mouth just fine. Why don't you come over here for a little while," he said reaching for her.

"I don't believe it," Margaret said as she dropped the pan and spoon on the carpet. "You don't have a hangover? Not even a little bit?"

"Uh ... no. But I have a hard-on. Does that count?" Frank offered just before he pulled the inviting nipple into his mouth and sucked hard.

"Well, shit," Margaret said. "I was going to have some fun and teach you a little lesson for puking all over everything — including your friend."

"Uhmm hmmm," Frank said as he slipped a hand between her legs.

Margaret forgot about her little joke.

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In a suburb of Bismarck, North Dakota, Jill Madison, Captain Bill Madison's soon-to-be ex-wife sat on the side of the bed.

"Here are your morning meds," Doctor Ingles said handing her three plain white capsules and a small glass of water.

"Yes, Sir," she slurred as she put the capsules in her mouth, took a sip of water and swallowed.

"Drink the rest of it. You know the drill."

Downing the rest of the water, she sat awaiting her next instruction.

"All right. Go fix us breakfast. I'll get a blow-job after I eat." Dropping his shorts, the doctor walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Jill got up and quickly walked out of the bedroom into the hallway. Putting her hand to her mouth, she spit the capsules out as she hurried toward the kitchen. Putting the pills in the sink a moment later, she ran the water until she was positive they were gone.

Starting the doctor's breakfast, she forced herself to a slow measured pace. Oh, God, my head hurts, but I can't show anything or he will know. Last night was almost more than I could stand. If I'd had a way, I would have killed myself. Oh, it's a hundred times worse now that I really know what's going on. Oh, shit. I can't do this. I have to get out of here.

Shortly, she had their breakfast ready.

"Eat," he said sitting down and motioning to the other plate she had prepared. "You're getting skinny. Can't have my prize pussy losing those fine tits, now can we?"

Forcing herself to not react, she quietly sat and began to eat slowly. Oh, is this the way? I think I usually eat slowly, but I have to remember to wait for his commands.

Shortly, done with his meal, he slid his chair back from the table. "Come here and get on your knees. I don't have much time this morning, so no buildup, just suck hard and stroke me," he said, unzipping and pulling his dick out of his pants.

Obediently, she stood and lethargically walked around the table, knelt and took his cock in her hand.

"Come on. Suck it, Cunt. I have a busy day ahead of me."

Oh, God. How did I get into this? Don't cry you silly bitch, he'll know. Suck him. Don't think; just suck.

Shortly, he grunted and filled her mouth with semen. Stealing herself, she swallowed his spend.

"Clean it up, Bitch," he growled at her. "What's the matter with you this morning?"

When she finished, he stood, flipped his dick back into his pants and zipped. "Tonight at seven bathe and get ready. I've put out your dress, hose and shoes. Make sure that your hair looks nice. Remember what happened the last time you forgot. This is some Arab guy with money coming out his ass, so I don't want any complaints. I want him drained when you leave; not able to get up a hard-on if his life depends on it. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll make it good for him."

"All right. Don't forget to eat lunch and dinner. You need to gain some weight."

"Lunch and dinner."

When she heard the front door close, she sagged into a chair. I've got to get out of here. I can't stand another night of some fat pig. But my mind is still fuzzy; it's hard to think. I've got to have money — clothes. Maybe he forgot to lock the closet.

Standing, she waited for a moment for the pain to abate a little, then hurried to the bedroom. The black stiletto heels lay on the bed beside the mini-dress and a pack of thigh-high stockings. Knowing the new closet door would be locked, she tried it anyway.

Frustrated, she went into the laundry room where she had managed to secret a pair of skintight jeans and a tee-shirt. She didn't have a bra, panties, or decent shoes. With the jeans, tight shirt and heels, she would look like a tramp. Well, I am a tramp, she thought struggling to keep back tears.

Fighting her conditioning, and finally winning now that she had managed to keep from taking the meds for three days, she quickly donned the jeans and tee-shirt, her breasts bouncing as she wiggled into the tight clothing.

On the stairs to the lower level, she retrieved her car keys that she had managed to hide under the edge of the carpet. Oh, will I be able to drive? My head feels like it is going to explode, and I don't think my breakfast is going to stay down much longer. Suck it up bitch. You either do it today or he'll find out tonight. No way can I fuck another one of those pigs now that I'm back in the real world. Oh, God, the memories,  she thought, almost losing it.

Get going you stupid bitch. You've lost the best husband that's ever been. Oh, my daughter,  she thought, stumbling as the sorrow hit her. Where is she? Will I ever see her again?

Back in the kitchen, a hand on each side of her head pressing inward as hard as she could, she tried to remember where the grocery money was. Her mind blanked and she stood in a daze for a full minute, the headache consuming her. Aspirin. Maybe there are some aspirin in the bathroom. No, stupid. Get the money. Get out of here.

Finally, she remembered. Jerking the drawer open, she scooped up the bills, even putting the change into her pocket. How far is it? Seven — eight hundred miles at least. Maybe that's enough money to buy gas. If I sleep in the car and don't spend the money on anything else, I might make it.

Food. Food. I need to carry food with me. But I need to get out of here. If he comes back and sees me dressed, he'll know, and I'll never get another chance. Hurry. Hurry.

Grabbing plastic grocery sacks from the trash, she cleaned the meager amount of food out of the refrigerator, added a half box of cereal, a half loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter. That's enough. Get out of here before he comes back. Shoes. Oh, crap. Those spikes are better than nothing.

Going back to the bedroom, she slipped her feet into the ill-fitting shoes, then hurried into the bathroom where she found a bottle of aspirin for her pounding head. Back in the bedroom, looking around, she didn't see anything else she could take, but then in the hall closet she found one of his heavy coats. Slipping it on, it dwarfed her.

Grabbing up her grocery bags and digging her keys out of her pocket, she peeked out the front window while trying to stay hidden behind the drapes. As casually as she could, not knowing who would be a friend, or who would be an enemy, she walked out the front door to her car. Keying the remote, she opened the door and slid under the wheel, putting her food in the right seat.

Mentally crossing her fingers, she turned the ignition switch, half expecting the battery to be dead since the car had not been driven in a while. When it instantly started, she almost broke down and cried. Don't lose it now, bimbo. Calm. Calm. Back slowly out of the driveway. Some of those asshole friends of his that he made me fuck probably live somewhere around here. I remember that much, anyway.

His house was situated at the end of a cul-de-sac. Backing the car out of the drive, she shifted into gear and tried to drive normally down the street. When she reached the cross street, she stopped at the stop sign, then turned right; although, her mind was a blank about which direction to go.

After driving for ten minutes, she came to a four-lane street and turned onto it. A little later, she saw a sign for Interstate 94. Shortly, she was on it. Not knowing which direction to take, she had headed west. The car was warm by now but her shivering would not stop. I have three-quarters of a tank of gas; I need to put miles behind me. When I find a rest area, they should have free maps. I dare not spend money on one; I may need it for gas. Who are you kidding, Gal? You know damn well it will take every dime you have to get to Denver.

I don't dare go to the cops. He said I could never get away. If I tried, they would just bring me back to him because he would tell them I was a mental patient. Oh, I don't know what to believe. My mind is ... Everything is still vague, but better than it was yesterday.

Wanting to floor the accelerator; wanting to run screaming from the warped person that she had somehow become so involved with, she instead forced herself to drive with traffic. Once outside the city, she set the cruise control on the speed limit. Don't want to be stopped by the cops. I don't have my driver's license with me. No ID. No telling what would happen.

Fighting to stay coherent, she concentrated on keeping the car straight in the lane. Wait. I'm going too fast. I don't have much money for gas. Cruising speed. Yeah, Bill talked about cruising speed for the planes he flew. He said an automobile got a lot better gas mileage at a certain speed, too. But I can't slow down too much. Not on the Interstate; someone will run into me. Sixty and stay in the right lane. Maybe no one will run over me, and the slower speed should help with the gas mileage. No air-conditioner. That will help mileage, too. Of course, it's too cold to need air. What else can I do? Drive at a constant speed. Don't accelerate hard. Coast down big hills when I can. Bill said that all of those things helped a little.

Oh, God. I can't do this. My mind comes and goes. But at least the headache has eased off a little with the aspirin. Just calm down and drive. The more miles you put behind you before he finds out you're gone, the better chance you have.

Suddenly a chill hit her. Oh, no. He'll call the cops and tell them this car is stolen. Hmmm, but I'll bet he doesn't have the tag number. Then maybe again, he does. Oh, crap. If he has the tag number, they'll stop me for sure. Maybe I need to get off the Interstate. But I don't know where I'm going, and this car doesn't have a GPS. I'll keep on until I find a rest area. I'll decide then whether to stay on the Interstate or get on a state road. Oh, God, I'm scared.

I could call Bill — if he would even talk to me. After the way I acted at the lawyer's office, I doubt if he would do anything other than spit on me. But I couldn't help myself. Ingles gave me strict instructions. I had no choice, but I wouldn't blame Bill if he just knocks hell out of me on sight.

Ingles said that Bill has taken Linda to live with the people at that conference center of Mr. Wainwright's. That bastard doctor claims that he is going to get her, eventually, since she looks like a younger version of me. But, I don't know the phone number there, and I have no idea how it's listed. No one would help me even if I knew how to get them on the phone. I tried to call Bill on his cell before we left Saint Louis. It wouldn't connect. He probably changed cell phones because he wanted to make sure I didn't call him. Linda didn't answer her phone, either. Our house has been sold, and that asshole that did this to me got my share of everything. I don't have anybody to call. But that isn't really important. I just need to find Bill and Linda.

Ingles laughed when he told me I was HIV positive. He used condoms on me and told his buddies to use them, too. But he didn't bother to tell my so-called clients. I wonder how many I've given AIDS to. I saw him researching some of the meds he was giving me. At least, I think that is what he was doing. He laughed and told me I didn't have long to live. I know that people that are HIV positive and receive medication for it, live for years. But I'm not getting anything for it, and if what he says is true, what he is giving me to make me do what he wants is also lowering my immune functions. At least that's what I remember him saying. He just laughs at me when he forces me to take the medicine. He has told me I have to, but I've managed to avoid taking them for three days now. Probably because he forgot to give me a dose when we were in a hurry the other night. After that, I've just kept them in my mouth until I can spit them out. I know they're probably hastening my death, but his orders are to be followed, regardless. Oh, everything is so mixed up.

A state police cruiser pulled alongside, and the trooper looked over at her. She fought to keep from screaming when she suddenly realized that he was matching her speed and looking at her. Reason finally asserted itself and she smiled at him and held up her left hand so that he could see her wedding rings, before casually returning her attention to the road in front of her. The trooper beeped his horn, then smoothly accelerated on in front of her. She thanked her lucky stars that the perverted asshole who did this to her liked to see her rings on her hand as she stroked his dick.

Any other time, she wouldn't have thought anything about the trooper — assuming that she weren't speeding, that is. Just a guy looking at her for a moment. But her looks had gotten her into big trouble with the asshole who had trapped her. Tears suddenly flowed, her vision blurring. Wiping her eyes with the back of first one hand, then the other, she admonished herself. Screw up now and he'll have you back. Chances are getting better with every mile, though. That trooper got a good look at you and the car, but didn't do anything. Maybe Doctor Asshole will really stay gone all day.

Her mind was so fuzzy lately that she couldn't remember whether he usually called her when he was out or not, but she had no recollection of him calling. Then she remembered that one of the rules was to not answer the phone. Ah, maybe he won't find out until later today. Oh, it will be wonderful if he doesn't expect to see me until he's ready to take me to my "date." You bastard; I hope you rot in Hell. You've destroyed my life.

Troopers drove past her twice more, but didn't even glance in her direction as far as she could tell. Finally, she saw the big blue sign that told her there was a rest area in one mile. She parked as near the visitor center as she could get. There were few cars in the lot, so she only had a little way to walk in the ill-fitting shoes. Stepping out and donning his big coat again, she hurried inside.

I probably look like some little lost waif wearing this coat. After using the bathroom, she picked up several brochures of attractions in North Dakota. There weren't many, she grimly thought, but at least they had a state map with a full US map on the back side. She looked at the vending machines in their little alcove. She would love to have a cup of coffee, but settled for a long drink of water from the fountain, instead. Every dime. Save every dime.

Back in the car, she almost started it to warm herself while she looked at the map, but aborted turning the switch. Save the gas.

Well, at least I'm going in the right direction, she thought as she studied the map. Looks like I have another fifty miles or so before I turn onto Highway 85 South. I'll bet the bastard thinks I'll head for Saint Louis. You'll be looking in the wrong direction on the Interstate, you...  She couldn't think of a name that was bad enough. Sighing, Maybe I have a chance after all. Folding the map where she could easily see her route, she wished for a highlighter to mark her trip, but she could easily remember that she had to stay on 85 South until hitting Interstate 25 in Wyoming. She had taken a couple more aspirin for the headache while she was inside, but it still throbbed.

Later, on Highway 85, her gas gauge down to a quarter, she pulled into a convenience store lot. Leaving a twenty with the clerk, she filled the tank, thankful that she had chosen a smaller car with decent gas mileage. Back inside, she used the bathroom, then thirsty, she stood looking at the soft drink coolers, since there was no water fountain. Remembering her meager amount of gas money, she walked on out of the store. Just as she was getting back into her car, she saw a young woman take the last sip from a tall soft drink cup and throw it in the trash.

After the woman left, Jill took the cup out of the can. Driving around back, she found a water faucet on the wall of the station. Washing the cup as best she could, she filled it with water and drank it down, then refilled the cup and put the lid back on. I never thought about soft drinks being expensive, before. I'll make it. I'll make it. I won't spend money on anything but gas.

Pulling back on the road, her cup of water safely in the cup holder, she set the cruise ten miles under the limit and headed south. At least this state highway is darn near as good as an Interstate. Heck, there's no traffic and it is almost as straight. You'll have a hard time finding me you cock sucker. But she shivered thinking about how strong the compulsion was a few miles back. She had almost turned around, even as the meds were fading from her body. Sometimes, unless she concentrated, the compulsion to go back to him became intense. Fuck you, you son-of-a-bitch. I'll beat you. I'll beat you,  she thought, tears streaming down her face as she gripped the wheel as hard as she could.

Bill will never believe it was hypnotism backed by Asshole's damn drugs. And the arrogant bastard bragged to me about it. That was a mistake you prick.

Later as she felt the compulsion rise in her again, she forced herself to concentrate on what she had lost. That son-of-a-bitch took me away from my husband, and even gloated about how he had done it, but I couldn't do a thing. I know I haven't a hope of Bill taking me back, and I can't blame him, but I'm going to see my baby one more time. I don't have any insurance now that Bill and I have divorced, so I don't have any way to get medication for the AIDS, but I'm going to kneel at his feet and apologize for ruining what we had. Oh God, how did that asshole doctor do this to me? I know Bill hates me, and so does my baby. I don't care what happens to me after I see them. But I'm going to see them one more time, if I have to walk.

I could have gone to Mr. Wainwright in Saint Louis, but that bastard doctor will probably be waiting for me there. Since he's a doctor, the police will never take my word over his. He'll probably have the cops looking for me as soon as he finds out I'm missing. Oh, why couldn't that prick have AIDS instead of me.

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Word about another wedding traveled through the women like a dose of ... well, you get the idea. Since they didn't want their men to see them on their wedding day before the weddings, Dave got evicted from his apartment, the brides taking up residence with an entourage of women waiting on them hand and foot.

Bill, laughing at Dave and Jeff the night before, was suddenly catching a double dose of revenge. Having been "excused" from the kitchen as soon as their last bites were headed for their stomachs, the men sat in the living room debating if it would be safe to go back into the kitchen and get a pot of coffee. So far, no one had volunteered for the mission.

"Margaret woke me up this morning banging on a pan," Frank said.

Bill frowned as he tried to focus on something other than his wedding that was only a few hours away. "Why would she do that?"

"Her little joke. I think she was pissed because I came in drunk last night. She must have decided to get a little revenge for fucking up her clean bathroom. Uh, Jeff ... she told me that I puked on you. Sorry about that."

Jeff chuckled. "Well, it's starting to be funny now, but last night I thought about flushing that toilet while your head was still in it."

"Yeah. I think Margaret must have, too. She told me to tell you that she would bring your shirts back when they finished in the dryer."

"So, she beat on a pan to check out your headache?" Dave interjected.

"Yeah, but the funny thing was that I didn't have a headache. I feel just fine. Hell, not that I'm complaining, but I thought you had a hangover if you drank that much beer."

{{{ I told you. }}} Little One injected into the conversation, but only Jeff could hear her, of course. {{{ I know what a hangover is from your thoughts last night. But an Alpha would never have one — not after my work with your bodies. }}}

"Well, I've sure known plenty of guys that I've worked with who cringed every time a nail gun went off the first thing on Monday mornings," Dave interjected.

"Hmmm," Wainwright said looking at Jeff, who just shrugged.

"So," Bill said, dragging out the word, "with whatever has been done to us, Alphas don't have hangovers?"

"I remember getting up sometime during the night," Wainwright said. "I had to piss, and I had a thirst that you wouldn't believe. I drank two big glasses of water straight down and seriously thought about a third, but I was afraid I was overdoing it and the vomiting would come back if I kept putting more water on my stomach.

"And, yes, logically I know that I needed the water to rehydrate my body from the effects of the alcohol, but the thirst was ... all consuming. I had to hang onto the sink to keep from filling that third glass."

Jeff, prompted by Little One, said, "Our bodies recover from the effects of alcohol consumption at a higher rate than they used to. Probably, if Frank had slowed his drinking a little, he wouldn't have become intoxicated at all. Even the vomiting could have been something a little different than what we thought at the time. His body might well have been ridding itself of the 'poison' in his stomach."

"So what are we going to do, now that the women have ostracized us until tonight?" Wainwright said trying to change the subject.

"Well, it isn't particularly all day. Dave's new 'in-laws' are due up for lunch with us."

"Yeah, they're bringing Kim's clothes, and Josh and I need to have a long talk, besides. We've been close, starting way back when Dad was running the company, but it's still hard to believe how quickly Josh gave in to Kim being my third wife. They're a very close-knit and loving family. I guess I can understand Carmen's attitude a little easier, since my pheromones probably affected her, but our pheromones don't affect males, do they?" he said looking at Jeff.

Jeff sighed, "I'm in over my head here. I'm not sure if they do or not, but something about us does, at least when we're angry," he thought as he remembered the general's expression when he (Jeff) got tired of the general's harassment and got in his face. "And I expect that there are other times when our influence is a little more than average.

"But in this case, I suspect that his already loving you as a son had a strong influence in his capitulation. He's probably known for a long time that Kim loved you. He might have been worried that she would decide to try to get you 'out of her system, ' by falling back on the time-honored process that women have used for years. Namely deciding to fuck everything in sight. If that's the case, then the alternative of being your third wife probably seemed far less stressful to him."

Dave stared at Jeff. "Did anybody ever tell you that you're weird?" he joked. "Where did you come up with something like that?"

"Actually, I didn't; Diana did."

"Oh," then, "Oh." After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Dave continued, "Uh, well, whatever the reason, I need to sit down with Josh and make sure we're..."

"Straight," Jeff offered with a grin.

"Yeah," Dave said. "He's ... family. I don't want him feeling like I've run over him in this." Suddenly, Dave leaned forward holding his head in his hands. "I don't want anybody hurt in this, and I know damned well how easily this could blow up in my face. Shit, Jeff, Joyce and Caitlin have been living here with us for a couple of weeks. Your wives have gotten used to having them as part of the family. It's been going fine with Evie; although, she and Linda have only had a week to get used to each other. I thought I was stressed before. Shit, that wasn't anything compared to this. What if they have a fight on our wedding night?"



I think the regular update page will still work for Book III, but if not, look on the index page of Arlene and Jeff for Book III starting next Saturday. You can easily find the index page by going to the top of any chapter of the story and following the link.

Thanks for reading the story. There should be many more chapters of Arlene and Jeff.

Roust





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Book 3

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Chapter 1

FRIDAY MIDMORNING — SEPTEMBER 27

Cast of Main Characters

The Matthews Family

Jeff Matthews — 6' 3", 33, medium build, Alpha Prime, nice face, a little on the rugged side, brown hair, exceptional physical condition. Jeff is an electrical engineer and inventor. After selling his first major patent for an advanced type of radar, he moved his family to a former conference center/retreat high in the Colorado mountains. Jeff, now a major, is still grudgingly attached to a Black Ops unit at a secret military base that is experimenting with portals to another dimension. He discovered the Healer — or she discovered him — in an ancient, spaceship inside a mountain hanger on the other side of a portal. Jeff was shot by an alien sniper but survived because his Sergeant placed him in a healing chamber on the ancient ship.

The Retreat — a moderately large conference center set high on a fictitious mountain near Winter Park, Colorado. It was originally built by Wainwright Inc. for business use, but proved to be too easily isolated by winter snow. Wainwright threw it into the deal to seal the purchase for Jeff's radar invention. The retreat has been somewhat renovated for residential use by Jeff's large & still-growing family, and houses an increasing number of his friends and their families. Jeff is constantly improving it with large and small projects — a gun range, an underground laboratory and related shops for further inventions, etc. The driveway up to it is terrifying.

The Healer, named Little One by Jeff — a decidedly feminine alien artificial intelligence originally designed as a medical device for Alpha Primes. Looks like a lump of pale blue, almost translucent Play-Doh in her normal state, but she is far more malleable. She recognized Jeff as an Alpha Prime and adopted him on the abandoned spaceship. Fortunately humans are close enough to her creator species that she is able to heal them and make many improvements. She and Jeff have learned to communicate to some degree, but since she and her race are telepaths and humans are not, the struggle for proper understanding between Jeff and Little One continues. Jeff often carries her, well spread-out, on his back under his shirt.

Diana Matthews — first wife and Queen Bitch — 30, but now looks 19, 5' 5", brunette with auburn highlights, hair to her waist like her daughter, beautiful slim figure, high, long breasts that seem to defy gravity, regal, almost haughty appearance, stunningly beautiful, married Jeff when she was 14. 

Arlene Matthews — Diana and Jeff's daughter — 16, a little shorter than her mother, hair to her waist almost identical to her mother's, although a little more wavy. Arlene seems a younger, slightly smaller version of Diana. Like her mother, she is exotically beautiful. She is Jeff's daughter-wife and another Queen Bitch, although this hasn't been brought out in the story, yet. She and Ann have near genius intellects.

Laura Billings — 30, although with the Healer, she looks younger now, 5' 5", short, red hair, freckles across her nose, large round breasts. Diana's best friend from childhood and now almost a handmaiden to Diana. Laura's older boyfriend impregnated her when she was thirteen, then left town when he found out, leaving Laura to raise Ann alone after Laura's parents were killed when she was eighteen. She was an IT manager in Atlanta, Georgia until her company sold and downsized. She is now Jeff's assistant and wife.

Ann Billings — Laura's daughter, 16, 5' 2", thick red hair below shoulder-length, some auburn highlights, a slightly pixie appearance. She, Jennie and Melissa were the girls that came for Arlene's birthday and stayed to be Jeff's wives. Ann was the classic "virgin with an armor-plated hymen." She talked Diana into letting Jeff be her (Ann's) first. She had been in love with him since she was thirteen.

Melissa Collins — 17, 5' 3", dark brunette hair, shoulder-length, breasts larger than Jennie, but not as large and shaped differently than Arlene's. One of the three girls that came to Arlene's party and stayed to be Jeff's wives. Melissa had seduced her father after several of the kids at her school had HIV. Not wanting to have sex with any of her classmates for fear she would contract AIDS, she chose Dad, instead.

Jennie Stewart — 17, dirty blond, about the same height as Melissa, best friends with Melissa in Georgia, slightly smaller frame than Melissa, slightly smaller breasts. One of the three girls that came to Arlene's party and stayed to be Jeff's wives. Jennie claimed that she had also seduced her father because of the HIV in the school. She will soon confess that she lied about this.

Helen Boswell — 45; although, she too looks much younger now, 5' 4", shoulder-length brunette hair, slender, breasts well proportioned to her frame, genius and polymath, retired principal, taught gifted students, and girls' swimming, now teaches Jeff's family, had a heart attack and was saved by the Healer.

Deputy Joyce Cramer — 23, 5' 6", long, full head of beautiful hair, really dark, but with auburn or red highlights, high breasts, long slim legs, small waist. Altogether, a knockout package.

Caitlin Hughes — 23, 5' 5", same age as Cramer, fiery red hair, cut short, and a temper to go with the red hair, medium breasts, slim figure, long legs, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Caitlin, a nurse, and Joyce were Caitlin's father's lovers. When he died, Joyce and Caitlin became lovers.

Ben Hughes — Caitlin's dead father.

Other Characters

Dave Henson — 6' 1", 38, dark brown hair, lanky frame but well muscled, the contractor who built the retreat. Although he and his wife, Evie, have taken a personal interest in the retreat and the Matthews family, he owns and operates a large construction company. After becoming project manager for Jeff's many improvements to the retreat and other endeavors, Dave turned the day-to-day operation of the company over to Korey who has become his vice president. Jeff has declared Dave and Evie family. Dave is able to play almost any musical instrument with ease.

Evie Henson — 5', 32, Dave's wife. Small blond, small perky breasts, very pretty, a hundred pounds with rocks in her pockets, but fiery and not bashful about working with the construction workers. Now acting as Dave's assistant, but like Dave, she still interacts with their construction company. She, again like Dave, will get her hands dirty in a heartbeat. Almost as good as Dave is with music. Likes to play classical music, much to Dave's consternation. They got together playing music at her church, then later at her parents' home.

Fred Wilson — Big man, over six feet, way overweight until the Healer caused him to shed weight and muscle up, mid-fifties, retired detective and Jeff's best friend and mentor in Georgia. He came to live with the Matthews when Fred's wife, Brenda, suddenly died of a heart attack. Jeff realized that Fred was probably going to end his own life, and talked him into going back to Colorado with them. He is now at the farm helping Carla and Jessica.

Brenda Wilson — Fred's deceased wife who seems to talk to him on occasion.

Frank Wainwright — 5' 10", late forties, graying hair, medium build, but has kept in shape, the owner/president of Wainwright, Inc., a company handed down to him by his father, and expanded enormously by him. Very rich, with a dynamic personality, believes in having the best people working for him and pays them accordingly. Owns outright, or a controlling interest in, many related companies spread over the continental U.S. Until recently would only fly when Bill was in the cockpit, but has now bought a helicopter and hired the pilot who helped to save Joyce's life. Years ago, Frank's mother and father were killed because of mechanical failure just after a takeoff, then Bill pulled him out of a crash of a rented plane just before the plane caught fire. While Bill was in the hospital after the crash, and later during skin grafts and cosmetic surgery from time to time, Wainwright commuted everywhere via limo. He hates to drive.

Margaret Stanford — 40, but she too is starting to look younger, 5' 6", shoulder-length brunette hair, slender build with medium breasts beginning to sag before the Healer took care of that. Vice President below Tingle. Frank's acknowledged lover, but would never marry him for fear of messing up what they have together. Although she is technically below Tingle on the totem pole, everyone knows that she speaks with Wainwright's voice, but she doesn't push it. Both she and Wainwright are workaholics, and very intelligent. They spent two weeks with the Matthews and now live at the retreat — at least on weekends.

Ray Tingle — Vice-president of Wainwright's major holding company, who is in charge when Wainwright and Margaret are out of town.

Captain Bill Madison — 6', 44 years old, has kept in shape by swimming and working out. He commands Wainwright's aircraft, and saved Frank's life after a plane crash.

Jill Madison — 5' 4", 38, blond, so gorgeous that people literally stop to stare, soon to be ex-wife of Bill Madison. For the last year she has distanced herself from her husband and daughter, her personality changing, and has unaccountably taken up with a scumbag doctor.

Linda Madison — 5' 3", 16, short, dark blond hair, pretty like Jill, her mother, but without the breathtaking impact. Captain Bill Madison's daughter, and engaged to be married to Dave.

Kathy Arnold — 5' 5", 26, dark brunette, shoulder-length hair, nice figure — flight attendant turned pilot, madly in love with Bill Madison, and engaged to be married to him.

Kimberly DeSantos — 5' 4", 18, below the shoulder, thick midnight black hair, medium breasts, slim, very pretty face, soon to be wife of Dave Henson.

Carmen DeSantos — Kim's mother, 5' 5", short black hair turning to gray, medium breasts, slim, pretty. The office manager at Henson Construction.

Joshua DeSantos — 5' 10", short-cut gray hair, muscular, a hard-working-man's build. Carmen's husband, and Kim's father. One of the supervisors at Henson Construction.

Carla Chalmers — 5' 7", 39, short, curly brunette hair, medium breasts, well muscled, but still pretty, owner of a farm Jeff saved from foreclosure.

Jessica Chalmers — 5' 6", 19, dark auburn hair, shoulder length, pretty, Carla's daughter. One year in college, but wants to go back and major in animal husbandry.

Sheriff Quinton Tate — 6' 3", 48, a big man, muscled from many years working out when he can find the time. Sheriff of the county where the Matthews live. Elected Sheriff now for several terms, he got there the hard way by working up through the ranks, then running for the elected position. Jeff realized through his own senses and those of Little One that Tate is an Alpha. Tate owns a small ranch not far out of town. The Olivers live a hundred yards or so from them on property given to them by the Tates.

Virginia Tate — Sheriff Quinton Tate's wife, 5' 8", 45, slim build with medium breasts, brunette like her sister, Elizabeth, dominant personality and has been extremely jealous of Quinton because she was not doing her "wifely duties." Virginia and Elizabeth, her sister, own an Internet business that is beginning to prosper.

Elizabeth Oliver — 5' 7", 40, brunette, slim like her sister, Virginia, medium breasts, widowed mother of Cindy and Rachel. She has an autoimmune disease with aspects of arthritis and lupus.

Cindy Oliver — 5' 5", 18, dark brunette, medium build, medium breasts, Elizabeth's daughter, and Rachel's sister. Madly in love with her Uncle Q. Cindy has enrolled in an online college.

Rachel Oliver — 5' 6", 17, light brunette, slightly more slender than Cindy, medium to small breasts. Like her sister, Cindy, she is in love with her "Uncle Q." Cindy has just started the twelfth grade and is home-schooled.

Alesha Turcott — Young woman who helped to save Deputy Joyce Cramer's life.

Deputy Jesse Goodman — Joyce's friend who helped to save her life when she was shot.

Denise, Connie and Jeremy — Construction workers from Johnson Erection that put in the silos at Carla's farm. Connie and Denise were the two women that Johnson hired and talked Lee, one of his foremen, into asking the women how they were going to react to the rough talk of the men on the crew. Denise talked Connie into moving in with her when Connie finally dumped her asshole boyfriend. The two women have been best friends ever since they came to work for the company two years before. Now they have invited Jeremy to live with them, planning to help him save his money for college so he can be an engineer. These two "bad girls" that really aren't, have fallen in love with Jeremy, but since they are both almost ten years older, don't quite know what to do about it. Jeremy, still a virgin, refuses to push forward with the relationship, waiting for the now-hesitant women to make the first move.

Edmond (Ed) and Jody Thompson — Older couple that own the farm next to Carla. Jeff has bought part of the farm, leaving the Thompsons with four hundred acres, their equipment and buildings. The old couple has arthritis and had to quit farming, but Jeff has plans for returning their health just as soon as he can figure out how to use the Healer on them without their knowing.

Ray and Allison Hodkin — Ranch owners that had Carla and Jessica's horses.

Cole Hagewood Sr. and Jr. — Junior tried to abduct Arlene. Senior came to his son's rescue, but met with Jeff the hard way. He has vowed to kill Jeff and his family. Since he has killed before and Sergeant Goodwin and the Sheriff say it is a viable threat, Jeff has tried to prepare his family for the worst.

Ted Wadsworth — Saint Louis lawyer that helped Jeff with his contract with Wainwright, Inc., when Jeff's three patent/copyright lawyers tried to fleece him.

Chuck Fontaine — Denver attorney who is a friend of Wadsworth. Fontaine was the lawyer that charged a dollar for his assistance in saving the Chalmers' farm.

Steve Sperman & Marcie — Retired couple that live about a mile down the mountain, and are the Matthews closest neighbors. They are the ones that recommended the snowplow and spreader, then gave Arlene and Jeff a recipe for heavenly home-baked doughnuts.

Jeb and Annie — Jeb is the retired marine who with his wife Annie were attacked in the parking lot of the grocery store.

-------

Carmen DeSantos had packed two suitcases of Kimberly's clothes, plus her makeup case and a bag of shoes. She had double-checked that she had packed the few items from Kim's "hope chest" as Kim called one of her dresser drawers.

As they crossed the mountain East of Winter Park, Carmen sighed as she looked at her husband. Josh inwardly flinched knowing what that sigh meant.

"All right, out with it."

"Out with what?" he tried to stall.

"I want to know why you gave in to this so easily yesterday when Dave told you he was going to marry Kim."

"Look, Baby, we went over that last night..."

"Bullshit, Joshua. Don't give me that crap. You just danced around spreading fairy dust. You didn't expect me to believe that, did you? Now why did you give in so easily? I expected you to give in, but you just looked at him a second and said okay..."

"I did not."

"Well, I'm exaggerating a little, but not much. You balked some, but you sure didn't take much convincing. Now out with it. Something is going on that I don't know about."

There was silence for a couple of moments, then, "Josh," in the tone of voice every husband dreads to hear.

Josh glanced over at her for a second, knowing that he was between that old rock and a hard place. "Baby, I can't put it into words or I would have told you last night..." At a look from his wife, "All right. I'll try. But I warn you that it's going to come out sounding different than it really is."

"Just say it," Carmen answered, this time in a voice he loved to hear.

Joshua grunted down in his chest as if there were something bad that had to come up. "Uh, you remember last year when Evie almost fell off that scaffold?"

"You know I do. How could I forget?"

"Well, I was looking straight at her, like I told you, when she leaned back against that railing that wasn't secured properly. She caught herself and grabbed hold, but it was a near thing, and she was thirty feet off the ground..."

"Josh."

"Uh, Baby, this isn't going to come out right..."

"Say it."

"Well something went through my head for a split second as I saw that railing give ... Oh, shit, Baby, I didn't mean it. It's just something that you can't explain. Well, uh ... there was an instant there the thought crossed my mind ... that ... Kim could marry Dave if..."

"Oh, shit, Josh..."

"I told you I couldn't say it right. I hated myself for the thought, and I sure never meant it. It was just that I've been so worried about Kim. She's madly in love with Dave. It's not natural. I was afraid that she was going to do something. I mean, kids her age commit..."

"I didn't know that you realized how much she loved him," Carmen quietly said.

"Yeah, since I'm a man and don't notice things like that," Josh said, his voice hard.

"I didn't mean it like that," Carmen said putting her hand on his arm for a moment. "I just didn't think you realized."

"Well, I did, and besides, she talked to me over a year ago. I knew that she was infatuated with Dave, but she set me straight about that. She really got upset when I called it infatuation."

There was a pause for a couple of minutes. "So you felt guilty about the stray thought about Evie, and when Dave told you about wanting to marry Kim..."

"Yeah, it was that ... partially. I feel sick every time I remember what I thought. But it was more. Thinking about my daughter being so depressed. Well ... having Kim being a third wife to Dave ain't so bad. It's a hell of a lot better than not having our Kim at all..."

Carmen could see the glint of unshed tears in her husband's eyes, once again gleaning a measure of the humble, good man beneath the rough exterior.

Trying to brighten the conversation, Carmen chuckled, "Well, we certainly know who she's marrying. It's almost like two of our kids getting married."

"Yeah, there is that," Josh grinned. "Both of our kids without incest. But damn, how are we going to tell folks that she and Dave are married? Some of them know Dave and Evie."

"We aren't."

"Yeah, I was half kidding. But what are people going to think when she gets pregnant?"

"That she got caught," Carmen said. "But I suspect that everyone we care about will have figured it out by then."

"So why are we going up to eat lunch with these people? Jeff and Diana seem like nice folks, but..."

"We're going to meet Jeff's other six wives," Carmen said just to watch Josh flinch.

Joshua, the man who would walk bare joists six floors up without a thought, flinched and jerked the wheel despite himself.

Carmen giggled like someone a third her age as she vowed to remember the look on her husband's face. This was going to be fun.

-------

Diana snuggled in Jeff's lap as they sat in the living room. "The cleaning crew should be here in a few minutes."

"Are they going to be in the way," Jeff said as he blew on Diana's ear.

"Stop that," she said, her nipples trying to mimic Mount Everest. "A little more and I'm going to jump your bones — well, one bone," she laughed. "And this room will smell like a cathouse when the cleanup people get here." Then remembering what Jeff had asked, "No, they won't be in the way. They're just going over the dining room that we're going to use, the room for the reception, the hallways down here, and this room, of course. I told them that they had two hours, max. They said that they would send four people, all of whom have worked here before," she quickly added, knowing that Jeff didn't like new people coming in with the threat of Hagewood still hanging over them. "Oh, and before you ask, we're going to do the honeymoon suites, ourselves."

Kissing him, she pushed back for a moment. "Annie has talked to me several times lately and she always mentions Joyce and Caitlin marrying us. I couldn't not invite her. I hope you don't mind."

"Now, why should I mind?"

"Well, it will be more people knowing about..."

"We talked to them when they were here. Both are far from being dumb. Plus that marine's word is as good as or better than any written contract you could name."

"Well, uh," Diana said.

Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"Annie wants to bring someone with them. She's an old marine buddy's widow."

Jeff chuckled. The chuckles grew, then the laughter sucked Diana in, too. Finally wiping his eyes, Jeff said, "Little One is stirring up some shit again."

Diana stared at him for a moment. "Do you think that old Jeb is trying for another wife?" she asked. "No, surely not."

"Diana, you're the one who is usually so perceptive. I'll bet you a blowjob."

Diana quickly slid to her knees in front of her husband. "No, not yet," Jeff laughed. "I have to win first."

"Oh, darn," Diana laughed as she got up to leave. "Now I have to wait."

Jeff swatted her on the ass as she scampered away from him and headed into the hallway. Suddenly, she about-faced and hurried back. "Baby, we talked about having the wedding at eight tonight, but I thought of something," she said as she resumed her seat in his lap as he chuckled at her antics.

"And what has my pretty wife thought of now?" he said, distracted by the way her breasts swayed under her tight blouse.

"Well, we had the other weddings at sunset. I looked it up last night on the computer. We need to start the weddings at 6:30 to catch the sunset at 6:51. Twilight lasts until 7:19. It will be full dark by 8:00 O'clock. So why don't we have it so the sunset will be behind us like we had it for the others?"

"Baby, I don't care. It does sound like a good idea, though. Of course, you will have to call everybody..."

Kissing him hard for a second, she giggled, "The girls are doing that right now."

"So what if I had objected?" he mused.

"You didn't," she laughed as she bounced up from his lap and headed for the door.

-------

Something old, something new

Something borrowed, something blue

And a silver sixpence in her shoe.

The phone rang in the Henson apartment. Realizing that it was the intercom, Evie answered, "Evie."

"Hi, this is Bill. I, uh, know that I can't see my bride before the wedding, but does that include my daughter?"

Evie chuckled. "No, silly. She's Dave's bride, so you can see her if you wish. But you can't come over here since your bride is here, too."

"Yeah, that's about what I thought. Could you send Linda over then? I need to talk to her."

"Sure. I'll round her up," Evie finished as she hung up.

A few minutes later, a somewhat reluctant Linda walked into Madison's suite. "Uh, you wanted to talk to me, Daddy?" she asked, expecting to be lectured.

Bill had just walked into the sitting room from the bedroom. "Yeah. I wanted to ask how you're doing this morning with everything that's going on..."

Linda took a couple more steps toward her father and stopped. "I'm... scared to death," she said in a rush. Taking the final steps, she crashed into her father and fiercely hugged him.

Bill's arms enfolded his daughter and he hugged her hard to him for a moment, then tilting her head a little, he kissed her forehead. "Kitten, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. This all came on quickly. Maybe you just need to put this off for a time. You're awfully young to..."

Linda blinked up at him, then understanding flooded her mind. "Oh, Daddy. It's not that. I want to marry Dave with all my heart. And Kim and I have hit it off. We had the best time talking last night, and we fell asleep snuggled up to each other. It's not Dave that I'm worried about, and I sure love Evie, it's ... me."

"If you're not worried about marrying Dave..."

"Well, it's kinda that. Oh, Daddy, I'm just sixteen. I don't know anything about pleasing a man. I mean, we've played around some, but Evie is so pretty, and experienced. She knows just what to do to make Dave happy. And now there's Kim. She's two years older than I am and she's dated some. Oh, Daddy, what if he's not pleased with me..."

Realizing that his daughter was shaking, Bill sat them both on the couch. He couldn't think of anything to do, so he hugged her to him, automatically saying the words that a parent learns will calm their child. Linda just clung to him and snuffled as his soothing voice became her world for a short time.

After awhile, he gently kissed her lips. "You've just got the jitters. Heck, I thought for a while last night that Dave was going to have a heart attack. He's worried that he will do or say something wrong, and I imagine under that veneer of assuredness that Evie is showing, she is just as shook. It's normal,  Baby. Normal.

"I'm just as uptight about marrying Kathy. And I imagine that she might have some misgivings or reservations, herself. Marriage is a big step, to use an overused phrase that still seems to fit. Anyone who isn't a little upset probably isn't taking things as seriously as they should."

They sat talking for a while, then Bill became quiet, a distant look in his eyes. "Kitten, I called you over here to give you something."

At Linda's inquisitive look, he cleared his throat and continued. "A couple of mornings after we got our stuff out of the house, I pulled a pair of socks out of my drawer, and felt something tucked down in the toe of one of them. It took me a few minutes to reason out why, but I think I generally know ... well, why she did it."

"She, Daddy?"

"Yeah. Your mom," he said opening his hand to show her a gold locket on a delicate golden chain. Pressing the button, the locket open to reveal a tiny picture of a young mother holding an infant.

"That's Mom's locket, Dad," Linda said as she reached out to carefully take the locket from her father's hand. "That's me she's holding. I haven't seen that in a long time."

"Yeah, she quit wearing it except on special occasions. She was afraid that she would lose it, or something would happen to it. I don't know whether you remember or not, but this belonged to your maternal grandmother. She gave it to Jill when we got married, and we added the picture after you came along, of course. She left instructions with Jill that you were supposed to have the locket when you married."

There were tears in Bills eyes as he opened the catch, placed the chain around his daughter's neck and secured the lock.

"But Daddy, you found this in your sock?" Linda asked as she touched the locket laying between her breasts. "That means..."

"Yeah, Baby. No matter how she acted, she for some reason, put this in my sock so I would eventually find it. Somehow, I think that she meant for you to receive it on your wedding day."

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," Linda said in a whisper, her eyes welling up.

"Yeah, Kitten," he managed to get out past the sobs that wanted to come out of his own chest. Then in a strangled voice, "I think — somehow — that your mother still loves you. Why she did what she did; why she sent this the way she did ... Well, I don't know why. But she did, and I can't help but think that she sent her love as well — the love and this locket that she meant for you to have on your wedding day."

Bill eventually got up to get soft drinks while they tried to calm their nerves.

"What about Kathy?" Madison said after he had returned to his seat beside his daughter. "The locket will fulfill the something old part of the tradition for you, but we decided this suddenly. Is Kathy going to..."

Linda took the bottle from her lips, noting that her father watched her mouth as she drank. Ah, Daddy, are you thinking about a little incest? some part of her mind thought even as she answered his question. "This may be something that you two suddenly decided to do, but trust me, she has planned for her wedding."

Bemused, she looked at the concerned expression on Bill's face. "Daddy, the only thing possibly wrong was that her garter was different from the ones the rest of us bought at the dress shop yesterday. And that wasn't really wrong. Kathy just wished that hers was the same as ours, and Diana heard her and took care of it. Thirty minutes with her sewing machine, and Kathy now has a garter that's identical to ours."

"But how did Diana make a garter? Uh, not that I know a lot about them."

"Oh, it's just a piece of elastic concealed in some satin and lace with tiny flowers sewn in, and a diminutive bow attached. But the combination exceeds the sum of its parts as they say. The garter is beautiful. Oh, and each one has 'I Do' embroidered on it. Diana's machine embroiders, and she let us watch as she made it for Kathy. Evie cut out the material and helped, too. Diana made it look simple to make one; although, I couldn't do it in a million years."

"Well is there anything that Kathy needs from me? Does she have everything she should have for the wedding..."

Putting her drink on the coffee table in front of them, she hugged her dad, laughing. "You are so funny. Your bride has everything all the rest of us have. She doesn't have a father here to give her away, but Mr. Wainwright is going to do that, and he's going to do it for Joyce and Caitlin, too. He'll be a busy man tonight," she giggled. "Don't worry; your bride is going to feel special."

"I hope so," Bill said, sighing and leaning back on the couch. "I'm just wondering if I'm going to survive."

"I thought that Diana had something for you guys to do this morning? Aren't all of you going to get a haircut or something?"

"Yeah," Bill said looking at his watch. "We're due to leave in fifteen minutes, although I'm just going to go along for the ride. I got a haircut last week and it's darn sure short enough," he said as he rubbed his hand through his hair.

"Diana said that Jeff wasn't pleased. She or Laura usually cuts his hair. He's afraid that whoever cuts it today will mess it up and leave him with a cowlick or something. They're going to this place that Dave uses, but I don't think that any of you guys really want to leave this morning," she finished.

"Okay, Kitten. I'll take a hint and let you get back to your wedding preparations. I just wanted you to have the locket." After a moment, he added. "And try to remember your mother the way she used to be, instead of..."

"Daddy, I know that you still love her. And I ... love her, too. Kathy knows it." Before Bill could say anything, Linda put a finger to his lips. "Shhh. Kathy knows that you love her, too. And you two are made for each other."

As Linda started out of the suite, she turned back, the door partway open, "Oh, Arlene told me something that they always tell Jeff just before a wedding." At Bill's questioning look, his daughter grinned, "Make her walk funny, Dad." Laughing, she was gone.

-------

"So does anybody even need a haircut?" Jeff asked as the group stopped in the back of the retreat near the Expedition.

There was a chorus of negative comments.

"So where are we going?" Dave asked. "We already visited Fred."

"Wherever it is, I'm driving," Frank said reaching for the keys that Jeff had in his hand.

"But I thought that you hated to drive," Jeff said as Frank snatched the keys.

"I do, but I'm not fool enough to ride with any one of you today. All of you are too focused on the pussy you're going to get tonight to be safe behind the wheel."

"We are not," Dave said waiting for Frank to click the remote so he could open the door.

Grinning, Frank unlocked the SUV and got under the wheel. "Well, whatever it is, I'm driving."

Laughing, Jeff, Dave and Bill piled in.

Cutting up like teenage boys, they rode down the mountain. A little later, Frank pulled into the lot at Martha's restaurant.

"What are we doing stopping here?" Jeff asked. "I'm supposed to eat lunch with Carmen and Joshua at the retreat a little later."

"Plan change," Wainwright mysteriously said. "Your Queen said that she would take care of the meeting with those two, plus bring Quinton's nieces up to date when they get to the retreat a little later."

Jeff stared at him for a second, but motioned to the near-full parking lot and said instead, "It's still a little early for the lunch rush, but get a load of this parking lot."

"Yeah, looks like she's doing quite well," Wainwright responded, his face strangely without expression. "So why don't we go in and get a cup of coffee, kill some time, maybe eat lunch with her. We're not supposed to be back before three."

"So this was a setup?" Dave said, trying to look hard at Frank.

"Yep," Wainwright grinned. "The women didn't want to be cooped up in your apartment all day avoiding the grooms..."

"So we got chased out of the house," Bill injected.

"That's it," Wainwright agreed as he started for the front of the restaurant.

There was a line — a long line.

"Wow, this place is jumping," Jeff said. "I wonder what happened?"

"I guess we take a number and sit on the patio," Dave said. "If we can ever get close enough to get a number. Why don't we go on in to Winter Park? We can eat at The Kitchen."

"Hey you guys!" Martha yelled to attract their attention. "Your table is waiting."

After making their way past the line to the accompaniment of several not-so-nice comments from people they passed, they eventually wound up in a back room just big enough for one large table.

Passing out menus, Martha then stood, pad in hand. "What would you like to drink?" she asked.

"What happened?" Jeff asked, nodding his head in the direction of the main room, instead of giving his drink order.

Martha made a sound that might have been a chuckle, but then again, maybe not. "Someone, it seems, put up billboards all over the place advertising my restaurant. I'm getting calls for reservations from as far away as Denver. Reservations at my place. I have a party of ten ski instructors coming from Vail at eight tonight. This is a country restaurant — or was.

"At six o'clock this morning, two guys showed up. One's a chef and the other is his assistant. A chef comes to work for me? Seems that he's been hired by your lady, Mr. Wainwright. Know anything about that?"

She didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "Shortly after the chef and his assistant got here, a shipment of supplies pulled into the lot. The chef even had fancy new menus with him. Everything on my menu is there, plus some things that I'm not even sure how to pronounce the name, let alone how to fix them. Somehow, he has gotten a copy of my recipes. I have a booklet of them in the kitchen so anyone helping me can prepare the simple meals we have here. But he just moved in and started cooking, grinned and told me that I could now go to the weddings. They damn near threw me out of my own kitchen. If they hadn't sworn that you had sent them, I would have."

"Coffee," Jeff said, "all around."

After Martha left, Jeff looked at Frank, "Well?"

Frank grinned at him. "Seems that I remember your saying something to the effect that this was Diana's project. She, your wives, Evie and Margaret have all been busy."

Wainwright then glanced at Dave. "You might also have been involved."

"Nope," Dave answered. "I knew that we were going to build the restaurant at some point, but I had no idea this was happening."

Wainwright leaned back. "Well, I had little to do with it, either. Most of this was Diana and Margaret's project. It was already planned; they just moved it up a couple of days because Martha told Diana that she wouldn't be able to attend the weddings because she couldn't leave her restaurant on a Friday night."

"But she didn't seem that mad. And I can't imagine that she would just let someone come into her kitchen and take over," Jeff said.

"Jeff, you need to thrash this out with your wives. I was told to get my advertising people into this, and I did..."

Martha returned with the coffee. "So, are you waiting tables today?" Wainwright said with a grin.

Martha acted like she was going to pour coffee on him. "I'm waiting tables. My waitresses are waiting tables, and we're still behind. I've called in my extra help. One of my waitress' husband is busing tables instead of working on his ranch. And you wouldn't believe who is washing dishes like a madman."

"Okay, I'll bite," Jeff laughed.

"Remember the preacher from the party? Well, he's working for his dinner today," she laughed.

"So you need some more help?" Frank said, looking concerned.

"Don't you dare, Frank Wainwright. The chef even brought extra dishes and flatware with him. I've got more help coming in shortly. And because of you, I'm making money hand over fist. And speaking of that, the chef and his assistant won't even talk to me about their pay. They say it's taken care of."

Suddenly, her eyes filled with happy tears. "I'm going to have a beautiful restaurant because of you people. I don't know what to say," she finished, starting around the table hugging everyone in sight.



-------

Chapter 2


FRIDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 27

Now that the grooms were out of the house, the brides, Evie, Margaret, Diana and the rest of the wives ate lunch with Joshua and Carmen DeSantos. Diana explained all she could about the Alphas and their Queens, without revealing anything about the Healer.

Later, Sheriff Tate, Virginia, Rachel and Cindy arrived early as Diana had asked them to do. Diana spent some time with the girls telling them the things she told the others, leaving them mystified but enthusiastic about the revelations.

Since everyone had "volunteered" to help put up the decorations, Diana and the rest of the wives were ready for them. After opening the door to the room where everything was stored, she handed out a diagram of the living room. "The numbers on the sheet correspond to the number on each item. For instance, that pedestal here," she continued, "has a small number 23 on the side. All you have to do is look on the diagram to see where to put it."

Quinton looked at the small mountain of flowers and decorations. Grinning, he started to say something when Helen spoke up.

"We rented the decorations last time, but just bought them from the company instead of having them pick up everything. Plus, we have added considerably since then."

"We decorated sparsely before," Diana said as she handed the pedestal to the Sheriff, "but we're going to decorate the whole living room this time since we're going to use the stairway at the other end for the brides' entrance."

Shortly, in the living room with everyone carrying something, Diana motioned to the other end. "We want to put these and these on every other step on the outside of the stairs," she said pointing to pedestal stands and flower arrangements that the group carried.

As they approached, Cindy asked, "Where do the stairs go to?"

"Oh, they just go to the second floor, and we seldom use them. I imagine they were built for something like this, anyway."

The girls looked up the wide, slowly curving stairway that went up to disappear behind a vestibule. The railing was of mahogany, the steps a slightly lighter wood, both had a deep sheen that bespoke quality and wealth.

Rachel ran her hand up the broad railing, a smile on her face.

Arlene laughed, "Yeah, we've had a ball sliding down them. Daddy about had a stroke when he first saw us do it, though. We sat on a towel and started all the way at the top. The only problem is the end support that sticks up a couple of inches. You have to push with your hands so you scoot over it at the bottom. Otherwise..." she giggled.

"The brides are going to come down these stairs?" Elizabeth said, her eyes glowing.

"Yep. Actually all of us except the grooms. They're going to come in the side door from the hall."

"I wondered why this room was so big," Tate said. "Oh, I know that Jeff told me the place was a conference center for Wainwright, Inc., but even so, it seems..."

"Well, I guess they had parties, group meetings and other things in here, but the stairway just cries out 'wedding.' We weren't as formal with the other weddings, but we're going to correct that mistake this time," Diana finished.

"So, mine goes at the top of the stairs," Josh said looking at the chart, "Figures," he laughed as he started up.

-------

Dave and Jeff stood in the hallway near the kitchen. "Are you sure you're not..."

"No, Jeff. I am not going to have my feelings hurt. We've discussed this. Fred is the logical choice for your best man. You two have been friends for years. I've known you for a few months..."

"Yeah, but we're closer than brothers, and I guess I'm just worried that..."

"Jeff, you know damn well this is more for the women than anything else. I would just as soon walk in there, say my vows and get it over with. Crap, I'm scared spitless about marrying two other women as it is. Now I have to worry about tripping over my own feet. Fred is going to be your best man. You're going to be mine. Frank is going to be Bill's. And Frank is going to give Caitlin and Joyce away..."

"Stop," Jeff said, grinning. "I'm just going where the women point, and like you, hope I don't trip over something. Shit, we should have practiced this..."

Dave interrupted, laughing, "No way. The way your women all seem to know what the other is going to do, they'll be perfect the first time. And heck, we get to take the shortcut. Evie said all I had to do was stand there and look, uh..."

"Say it," Jeff said, sniggering.

"Handsome," Dave said, his face changing color.

Jeff slapped his buddy on the back and turned toward the kitchen, "Where did Bill get off to?"

"Hiding, probably," Dave laughed as he pushed the door open for Jeff.

Bill was sitting at the table with a large shake in front of him, a look of resignation on his face.

"How much have you drunk so far?" Jeff asked, as he slid into his seat while eyeing the monster shake sitting on the table at his own place.

"About half, I guess," Bill sighed. "I won't be able to walk after I drink all this thing."

Sitting Dave's shake on the table across from Bill, Laura laughed. "Oh, you guys are Alphas. You eat a lot. Now quit whining and drink up so you'll be sure to be up for the job tonight."

No one laughed. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Laura. But have you tasted this shake?"

"Nope," she lied, inwardly grimacing. "Women don't need it. It's a man thing."

Bill shot a pleading look at Jeff.

"No sympathy here," Jeff laughed. "My shake is bigger than yours. The taste is strange, but when you wake up, you'll know what it's good for."

"Wake up?"

"Yep," Jeff said pulling hard on his big straw to get underway with Laura's concoction. "It'll be nap time when you finish that."

"But I'm not sleepy..." Bill objected.

" ... yet," Jeff finished for him with a snigger.

Bill barely made it to his suite before collapsing on the bed.

-------

"Have you heard from Alesha?" Arlene fretted as they all stood in Evie's living room.

"Yes, she called me back," Diana responded. "She's still scheduled to get off at five. She should be here by five-thirty easy."

"But what if they make her work late?" Jennie said. "I mean; it's a new job. She can't just tell them she has to go to a wedding."

"There is a simple answer to that," Diana said putting her hands on her hips and looking at her nervous sister-wives. "We will have the wedding on time, if everything goes all right. Alesha is part of us. She helped to save Joyce's life. We don't have the wedding until she, and everyone else is here. It will be nice if we can have it at sunset the way we did the others, but if not, then we'll have it when we can."

"But serving three groups all those courses and have everything come out on time..." Melissa chimed in.

"Simple," Laura said. "We are the servers. We take up the dishes and serve the next course when it's time. Heck, they're not going to notice, anyway; they'll be too focused on each other. And each serving is small. We can rush them through dinner, or delay as needed. You girls are getting upset over nothing. This is going to work. We just have a few more to serve for the wedding meal than we're used to. The catering service did a great job preparing and delivering the food the other times; they will this time. All we have to do is serve. Piece of cake."

-------

Later, Evie came storming into the Matthews' kitchen. "My mother is being a bitch," she said, snatching a cup from its hanger.

Diana grinned at the little Queen. "So, she's trying to run your wedding?" she teased, suspecting that wasn't the reason for the outburst.

"Oh, no," Evie said as she poured — dumped — coffee into her cup, spilling some on the counter.

Laura handed her friend a paper towel while trying hard to keep her face straight. The blond was obviously mad enough to have smoke coming out her ears.

Evie wiped up the spill, threw the paper towel in the trash, then poured cream into her coffee. Turning to her friends, "No, she's not trying to run the wedding; she hasn't gotten that far yet. She's still at the 'you can't do this' stage. She claims this is all Dave's idea to 'get some new pussy.' My talking to her just goes right over her head," she finished, waving her hand past her head to demonstrate.

"I got in her face and uh, was a bit excited, I guess. When I realized how close I was to losing it, I got out of there before I committed mayhem."

"And your dad?" Diana prompted.

"My dad? Hah. He thinks it's hilarious. And I jumped his ass about what he said to Dave on our first date."

"And that was..." Diana prompted.

"Oh, remember what Dave said that Dad whispered to him as we started out of the house on our first date? Something to the effect of don't get my daughter pregnant."

"So what did he say?"

"He laughed, but then sobered and said that Dave must have taken what he said too much to heart since we still hadn't given him any grand kids after fifteen years. Crap, I didn't know whether to laugh or hit him on the head."

Evie took a sip of her coffee and frowned, having forgotten to put any sweetener in. As she turned back to remedy that, she continued, "Now my dad is sitting in my living room watching a ball game. Heck, he hugged Kim and told her that he was proud of her for landing Dave. Then he hugged Linda and told her that Dave was a lucky man. I thought that Daddy would be the one to give me trouble. Mom has always been so sweet ... Shit, I'm ready to wring her neck."

Evie put Splenda in her coffee, then turned back to Diana. "I thought since Daddy was a deacon in the church, that he would be the one to disapprove of a multiple marriage, but then my sweet little mother is the one to act like a bitch, and my father barely blinked.

"I got them into the bedroom, thinking that I had better try to explain in more detail what was going on. Before I could even get started, Dad broke in and told me there were several men in the Bible who had more than one wife. 'Sometimes it worked; sometimes it didn't. Sometimes men with only one wife had problems, too, ' he told me. Then he hugged me and told me that it took more than just love to make a marriage work. It took an honest, hard effort from everyone involved.

"That was about the time that my mother chose to go off. I just didn't expect it out of her."

Looking at Diana, Evie asked, "How did you handle your mother?"

"'Handle her?'" Diana laughed. "My mother is the epitome of the word bitch. We didn't handle her. We just send her money and hope she stays in Florida. Since Dad died, she has had one 'man friend' after another. She's treated my husband like shit ever since she found out I was pregnant. Nothing he's ever done has pleased her. We keep a watch on her account. When it starts getting low, we make another deposit and call it cheap for the price. God help us if she ever decides to visit, but as much as she hates Jeff, we hope the visit never happens."

Diana stopped for a moment. "Whoa. You told us about your mom and dad; what about Dave's folks?"

Evie finally calmed down enough to sit at the table. "I guess I'll never understand people," she sighed as she slid into a chair.

"Next thing I knew, my dad is in my living room with Dave's dad watching a ball game, laughing and making comments that Dave is going to be 'pussy whipped, ' as if they just coined the term. When I left, Dave's mom had my mom by the arm escorting her down the hallway. I just hope the hell they don't end up in a fight. The one thing I'm certain of is if my mother keeps being a bitch, she's going to be locked out of the retreat while we have the wedding. Maybe freezing for a couple of hours will calm her ass down."

Diana knew better than to laugh, but it was hard. As she walked by her friend's chair, she put her hand on Evie's shoulder for a moment. "Just remember, no matter how pissed she makes you, and how much you want to say hurtful things to her right now, those words can't be taken back later, no matter how much you might want to. She'll come around. She's just worried about her daughter."

Evie let out an odd laugh. "Yeah, you're probably right, but can I strangle her for just a little while? Oh, I want to so bad."

Laughing, Diana grabbed Evie's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Let's all go back to your apartment. We'll treat her like everything is fine and try to include her in some of the preparations. It'll work out; watch and see."

-------

Cindy and Rachel sat on the side of the living room about halfway down. The lights were low with just the stairway, the front near the window and the path the brides would take, lighted.

"It was fun helping serve our dinner cafeteria-style," Rachel commented as she idly looked around at all the decorations they had helped to put up.

"Yeah. That was pretty neat. I had a ball talking to those girls while we worked. It's strange to think about all four of them being married to the same guy, though. And Arlene is ... married to her dad. How weird is that, huh? Not to mention the women. Today there's going to be two more women joining their marriage, and one of them is Deputy Cramer."

"Well, I don't know. The way they talk, this Mr. Matthews guy..."

"Jeff," Cindy offered.

" ... Jeff is something else. I keep thinking that..."

Cindy capped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. "Yeah, me too. I keep getting this mental image of him as skinny as can be, walking with a cane, barely able to totter along because he's been fucked to death by all those women."

Giggling despite themselves, they quickly looked around to see if anyone else had entered the living room. Satisfied that they were still alone, they fought down their laughter. Rachel took her sister's hand, her demeanor suddenly changing to serious. "Our plans blew up in our faces."

"Yeah, kind of..." Cindy sighed.

"'Kind of, ' my ass. I still have my hymen. How about you? As if I didn't know."

"Hymen still intact," Cindy groaned. "I thought men went after those things like..."

"Well, we know one man who doesn't," Rachel grumped. "Although I've never come that many times — ever."

"Well, I'm about to have my feelings hurt, Sister," Cindy tried to pout. "You always seemed to like my tongue before."

"Oh, you know what I mean. What you do to me is perfect, but he's... Uncle Q. And besides, I thought you were going to break his head when you slammed your knees together when he started licking your clit."

"Well, the boy knows how to lick pussy," Cindy laughed. "But I want that big old dick of his stuffed up inside me."

"And I don't?" Rachel laughed. "But he licked us until we were too weak to do anything, then fucked Aunt Virginia. Then he licked Mom unconscious."

"We've got to do something," Rachel said, sighing. Then, "Don't men wake up with hard-ons. Maybe we can sneak into their bedroom and climb on before he's totally awake. Sit down hard and it'll all be over. Once my cherry is gone, surely he'll fuck me."

"Don't bet on it," Cindy said. "He's Uncle Q, and besides, he's got his integrity all mixed up in this. He's thinking too much. He's so worried about breaking some antiquated law that he won't give up and make love to us."

"And what was that he just did?" Rachel teased.

"Oh, you know what I mean. Somehow, he apparently lets that get by his conscience, but sticking his dick in us isn't the same thing to him."

"Me either," Rachel grinned.

Both girls grabbed each other and laughed. Then pulling back, Cindy said, "We need to get Mom and Aunt Virginia on our side, but I'm getting an inkling of an idea. We're going to have to beat Uncle Q at his own game ... except we're going to change the rules a little. This won't be instantaneous, but I think it'll work if we get some help."

The discussion went on, but now the girls had hope.

-------

Linda and Kim sat on the bed in Linda's bedroom. Kim glanced around her again. "I know that I've said it already, but this place — this suite — is utterly beautiful. "Mom and I came up here when Dave had the place about half done. That... driveway was still gravel. I guess neither Mom nor I wanted that experience again. Anyway, we avoided coming back when the conference center..."

"They're pretty much calling it the retreat now," Linda interrupted. "Diana told me that Mr. Wainwright had it built for a conference center. But also used it as a retreat for a weekend getaways for Margaret and him, and he let other members of his company come up from time to time as a reward for good work."

"Well, anyway, we didn't come back after they were done. There's a large picture of it hanging on the wall of the construction company, plus some smaller pictures of some of the suites and the living room, but pictures just don't..."

"Do it justice," Linda laughed. "Yeah, we had a nice house in Saint Louis before Mother ... uh, before the divorce, but I never knew anything could be this beautiful. Plus, the Matthews had this suite redone for Kathy and me when we came to live here. Even though I've been here a little while, when I wake up in the mornings, I sometimes just stare at my bedroom — well, when I'm not thinking about waking up with Dave," she finished, blushing.

"Oh, my," Kim sighed. "In just a few hours we're going to be his ... wives. Uh, are we going to be Hensons then?" she said, grinning. "I mean, it isn't a legal marriage, but can't we have our names changed, or something?"

"Well, you can," Linda remarked as she glanced at herself in the dresser mirror, sitting up a little higher to do so, "but I'm not old enough to do that, yet. I think I want to when I'm eighteen, or whatever the age is."

Kim leaned back on the bed, propping herself on her elbows.

"Be careful," Linda admonished. "You'll mess up that beautiful hair of yours."

Kim quickly sat back up, then glanced in the mirror herself, turning her body to check her hair as best she could. Satisfied that she hadn't destroyed anything, "I can't believe they have a beauty shop in this place. I mean, their own personal hair salon."

"Yeah, but Diana, Laura and Doctor Boswell, uh, Helen act like professionals. My hair looks as good as it has ever looked in my life," Linda said.

"But Evie gave us pedicures and did our nails. I mean, isn't she going to be our Queen like Diana said? But she was down at our feet. It should be the other way around, shouldn't it?" Kim said, a frown marring her pretty face for a moment.

"Well, we did her nails for her, but yeah, I agree. It felt weird with her showering us with so much attention. She just seems so ... assured or something. Confident. Maybe it's because I'm so young, but I'm... scared to death."

Kim fidgeted on the bed. "You are? I thought it was just me. I've almost thrown up twice. I'm afraid to eat anything. We're supposed to walk down those stairs after our dinner with our ... uh, groom. What if I throw up halfway down the aisle? Oh, I would just die. But I'm a virgin. I don't know anything about sex..."

"You're what? I thought you had dated a good bit. I mean, I thought..."

Kim was shaking her head, making her hair swirl about. "Un uh. I dated and I've given a few blowjobs, but I just couldn't seem to find the right guy to ... do that with. I wanted my first time to be special. Heck, even my parents tried for it to be."

At Linda's questioning look, Kim laughed. "Oh, they're a little old fashioned. They were a little older than they probably wanted to be when I came along. But somehow, they got the idea to be modern about my becoming a woman. They thought that my boyfriend and I should have a nice hotel room for prom night..."

"They rented you a room in a hotel so you and your boyfriend could, uh, fuck?"

Somehow, it embarrassed Kim. "Yeah, they told me what they were going to do, and Mom lectured me on making sure he used a condom, even though I was on the pill. I just couldn't believe they were going to do that. I mean; I guess they were trying to be nice to me; make my first time special, but it just ... hit me wrong, as they say. I mean; I wasn't about to give that idiot my virginity. No way."

Linda giggled, then suddenly hugged Kim.

"What's so funny? You should have seen this guy. I mean; he's good looking enough, but he was so full of himself. He was positive he was going to get some Kim pussy that night. I could see the looks he and his friends were passing back and forth. I just snuggled up to him when we walked out of the prom, then told him I had to run by my house for a moment. Batted my eyes at the idiot, got out of the car, leaned back in the window, kissed him and told him thank you for taking me to the prom; told him I would see him at school, and walked inside. He was cursing me before I even got to the steps. I bet he woke everyone in the neighborhood peeling out of the driveway."

"Oh, you were so bad," Linda said, laughing.

"No, I wasn't," Kim said as her voice became more serious. "I told him over and over that I was going to save myself for my husband. I sucked his little weenie twice. All I can say is that I hope Dave's come tastes better than Bishop's did. I swallowed it like a good girl, but he doesn't know how close I came to throwing up in his lap."

"It does," Linda said with a twinkle in her eye.

"What does?"

"Dave's come tastes just fine. The taste is strong and the texture is ... different. But I'll gladly swallow it any time. It makes me so hot just thinking about it that I want to ... well, you know."

"You gave Dave a blowjob? I can't believe it. Tell me about it. How big is his dick?"

"Well, no. I just helped clean him up after he and Evie did it. But I think I could get my mouth on it, but just barely. It looks almost too big around. You're going to go first tonight. You're the oldest."

"Me?" Kim said, looking at Linda. "I'm third wife. He's supposed to do you before he does me. You'll be first."

"I'm ... not sure I can take that thing inside me," Linda quietly said.

"Oh, piddle. Every virgin thinks the same thing. At least all the girls I've talked to about it. But they all seem to manage it, and a lot of them were looking around for bigger dicks later on."

"Okay. Let's see how confident you are after he pulls that thing out of his pants tonight," Linda said, her voice tight.

"So how big is it, then?"

"Big enough that I'll bet that I could put both hands on it and my mouth,  and probably have some cock left over."

"You're shitting me," Kim accused. "I mean; you're a virgin too, right? How many dicks have you seen?"

"Well ... two, actually. I told you about my dad. And I guess — from what I remember — there probably isn't that much difference in them. But I'm still telling you that it's going to hurt."

There was quiet for a while, then, "Oh, shit," Kim said. There was a long pause as the girls sat and thought, then, "I saw this show about embarrassing moments. This bride was walking down the aisle of the church when she suddenly leaned into a pew and threw up. Now I know I'm going to throw up just like she did when we walk down that aisle. Maybe I should have given my cherry to that idiot after all. He could have stretched me a little. Dave is going to kill me."

"Us," Linda said, "Us," she repeated.

-------

Diana stood looking at her husband as he finished dressing. Studying him, a frown touched her pretty features as he slipped his shoes on. "So, are you going to tell me about it?"

Jeff looked up as he sat in the chair near the bed, Diana standing before him. "Tell you what?" he said, trying desperately to project calm and innocence.

"Jeff Matthews, you never could lie to me — at least most of the time. Now with the Healer doing whatever she does to us, we can certainly tell when something is upsetting you. Now out with it. We need to get it settled before you take your new wives tonight."

"Baby, this really isn't the time," Jeff said as he stood, putting his hands on her shoulders.

Diana stood looking up at him for a moment. Slamming her hands into his upper arms she hissed, "I am not leaving this room until you tell me what's bothering you. I don't care how much you grin at me, and how much that grin of yours turns me on, I still know that something's wrong. We're a team. Man and wife, uh, wives." Her voice softened, "Please tell me, Darling. Something is wrong."

Jeff stood looking down into her eyes for a moment. His grip tightened on her shoulders. "Remember I told you that I was late leaving on my run this morning?"

"Yeah, but what..."

"You know that I went to have Little One go over Kim. Mostly to make sure she didn't get pregnant on her wedding night."

"Jeff, what's that got to do with..."

"The Healer took a lot longer with Kim than I expected, but she didn't say anything until we were going down the mountain."

Diana's grip tightened on his biceps. "And..."

"Remember, Hon. Little One and I don't converse the way you and I do. I have to interpret all these feelings, concepts, weird images..."

"Damnit, Jeff, spit it out."

"I'm trying to tell you that I don't know. But I hit the anatomy books this morning after breakfast. I think she's trying to tell me that Kim has a growth — a tumor — in her brain. In the Circle of Willis as best I can determine from what she's sending me, and from trying to compare that to the pictures in the books."

"The Circle of Willis," Diana whispered. "God, Jeff, that's usually an inoperable area. I remember that, even though I had to quit the paramedic class. But Little One can fix it, can't she?" Diana demanded, her voice taking on a tone of desperation.



-------

Chapter 3

FRIDAY AFTERNOON LATE — SEPTEMBER 27

..."The Circle of Willis," Diana whispered. "God, Jeff, that's usually an inoperable area. But Little One can fix it, can't she?" Diana demanded, her voice taking on a tone of desperation.

Jeff hesitated just long enough to intensify Diana's anxiety. "Jeff..."

"Little One wants to spend time with Kim again. She knows that Kim is getting married today. Her society doesn't marry as such, but they have a ... process where a male and female are mated for life. The male can also add to that mating later on. I don't know exactly how much Little One understands about our ceremony, but she obviously equates my wives to mates in her society."

"I know that, Jeff. So, that's the same thing, isn't it?" Diana said, then without waiting for an answer, "Little One does know that Kim will be having sex tonight, doesn't she? I mean; is Kim physically able without risking..."

Jeff sat down on the bed, taking Diana with him. Turning to her and taking her hand in his, "Baby, I've asked that question several times. I got a jumble of answers. At least, Little One didn't tell me to call it off. I think that she started something this morning that will take time to complete. She doesn't usually go in with a scalpel or anything like that; although, she can physically do things inside the body like she did to me when the bear..."

"Don't go there, Jeff. I don't want to remember that day just now." Diana squeezed Jeff's hands. "Carmen told us that Kim had been having headaches. The first doctor thought they were migraines, and wrote her a prescription. The medicine helped a little to start with, but the headaches came back. Kim has another appointment to see a second doctor next week to have more tests. Oh, God, Jeff, this can't be happening."

After a moment of silence, "Little One fixed Joyce when she..."

"Baby, this is different. That's about all I know. When I told her the same thing, she showed me things that I only vaguely understood. I gathered that repairing a couple of torn vessels on the outer edges of the brain and causing the body to reabsorb the blood isn't in the same category with what's wrong with Kim."

"Oh, Jeff, I thought she could fix anything."

"Easy, Baby," he said putting an arm around her for a moment. "She didn't say she couldn't fix it. I gathered that it is more difficult. She's obviously started something — some part of the recovery process — but she needs time for it to work, and she needs to spend more time with Kim. If she thought it was imperative to call the 'mating' off, I'm sure she would have."

"You need to tell Dave about this. He needs to know in case something goes wrong," Diana said, her face contemplative.

"I've almost told him twice, but each time he interrupted with something about the marriage. Hell, he's already so worried, then hitting him with this..."

"Then, you need to have the Healer with you in the honeymoon suite," Diana said, thinking out loud. "I can put her in the dresser drawer for you. You'll be right next door to the suite Dave, Kim, Linda and Evie will be in if Little One is needed."

"Uh, are you saying that Evie is going to be there on their wedding night?"

"Yeah. She said that she wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jeff hesitated for a second while he digested that, then, "Uh, Baby, you're probably right about the Healer being in the honeymoon suite tonight; Joyce and Caitlin aren't that familiar with her, though. Probably would be better to put Little One somewhere out of sight.

"So what are you going to do with her tomorrow night when your new wives are here in the bedroom? She can't stay in the drawer forever. That's just not right," Diana said glancing at the drawer on the bedside table where the Healer frequently stayed when she wasn't riding Jeff's shoulders.

"Trust me," Jeff sighed, "I've worried a lot about that."

"And ... she likes to be with you when you're making love to us," Diana interjected.

"Well, I guess that's over. I usually wear a tee-shirt when she wants to stay with me, but Joyce or Caitlin might still see, or maybe even feel her if they put their arms around me while we're having sex. I don't know how well that would go over — probably not well at all."

"So when are you going to marry her?" Diana said sotto voice.

"Marry who?" Jeff asked, a frown on his face as he tried to unravel the seeming non sequitur. "I'm obviously marrying them tonight."

"Not them; Little One," Diana said just above a whisper.

"What..." Jeff started.

"Careful," Diana quickly said. "She isn't far away; she might be listening."

"Uh, she isn't 'listening.' I can feel her when she is."

"So when are you going to marry her?"

"Uh, Diana, we're going to be late if we don't get going..." Jeff said, stalling as he thought about having the small AI as a wife, not quite getting his mind around the idea.

"I got you up early so we could talk about what's been bothering you. We still have plenty of time. Now stop avoiding the question."

"Baby, she's an AI. An artificial intelligence. She doesn't ... I mean ... she isn't a woman, obviously."

"Don't give me that crap about her being only a computer," she said staring him in the eye. "We've already discussed this. Whatever she is, she's a caring creature, and ... she's female — however she was made. Do they mate — the Healers? I mean among themselves? She obviously can't mate with you in the general sense of the word."

Jeff grinned at her despite the sincerity of her question. "No. As best I can determine, their mother ship — made them. Grew them. Hell, neither is correct. Our technology is so far down the scale, that she can't even explain how they're 'made.' But the Healers can also reproduce — in a way. I think the nearest we can come to the concept is budding. She could bud another Healer. When they finally split, there would be two identical Healers. But as best I can tell, it would take her a long time to do this, and her abilities would be ... restricted while the process is taking place."

"Alright, but what are we going to do with Little One during the wedding? You know that she's going to want to be there. We'll hurt her feelings if we don't make arrangements for her to be there."

"Uh, I've thought about that, but other than having her on my back, I don't see..."

"Then get your shirt off and pull up your tee-shirt. I'll get her out of the drawer."

"But what am I going to do with her once we get to the honeymoon suite? I'll never get a chance to hide her. Joyce and Caitlin — despite what Little One has done for Joyce — might not take too well to having an alien in the bedroom while we're making love on our wedding night."

"Yes, you will. Just sit both of them on the couch like you did me. Then tell them to stay there for a moment; that you have something to do. Heck, they'll think you're going to the bathroom to pee."

"And that will keep them out of the bedroom?" Jeff said, doubtfully.

"Well, they'll think you're in the bathroom, and they're not coming into the bathroom while you're..." Diana wound down, remembering that the girls still occasionally insisted on holding his dick for him while he used the urinal, especially in the mornings.

Giggling, she said, "Wing it. Just put Little One in the drawer on the dresser by the bed like we said. She should be able to feel you from there. If something happens to Kim, you'll have her close by."

Jeff sighed. "Okay, let me get my shirt off."

Quickly, Diana got Little One. When Jeff was ready, Diana held the back of his tee-shirt up and put the Healer under it. Shortly she flowed onto his back and spread herself thin.

"Damn, I wish I could be Little One tonight," Diana said, smiling as Jeff put his shirt back on and retied his tie.

"Joyce and Caitlin have already said something about your being there. If you want, it's not too late."

"No way," Diana quickly replied. "This is their night. Just do your stuff, Big Boy."

Diana looked at her watch. Handing him his coat, "Now we've got to go. Damn, I wish we had this conversation earlier." Thinking a moment, she continued, "Evie will be helping serve her new sister wives. We should have enough time together for me to get her aside for a few minutes to talk to her about Kim's condition. If we tell Dave about this so near the time for the wedding, no telling how it will affect him when he starts to make love to his new wives tonight. We don't need him so worried that he can't..."

"Exactly," Jeff agreed. "But that's a lot to put on Evie."

Diana sighed. "I know. She's their Queen, though. That's just part of her job, but I'll tell her that I will be waiting for a call if she needs us, and Caitlin is an intensive care nurse. Chances are that since the Healer hasn't tried to stop the wedding, that Kim will be fine. But I'm worried. How could someone that young have a tumor in her brain?"

Jeff started to answer before he realized that her question was rhetorical.

Standing, Diana took Jeff's hand encouraging him to stand. "Kiss me and let's go."

Jeff took his Queen in his arms and tenderly kissed her. When she finally pulled back, she ran a thumb over his lips to make sure there was no lipstick. Grinning, "Make me proud, Husband."

Laughing, "Arlene has already told me to make them walk funny," Jeff said trying to put a grin on his face, despite his worry.

-------

Turning the corner into the long hallway, Jeff walked with Diana on his arm. He had glanced in one of the mirrors in the hall as they exited their suite, just to admire Diana's regal beauty. He wondered again how he had ever been so lucky. He felt her grip tighten on his arm as they stopped for a moment to admire his two new brides.

"They're beautiful," Diana whispered. Then nudging him, "Let's go and get you some new pussy," she teased.

"Yeah," Jeff mumbled, barely understanding her as they started forward.

Shortly, they stood before Joyce and Caitlin. Diana stepped forward, and taking each woman by the hand, placed their right hand in Jeff's. Bringing their hands to his lips, he lightly kissed them, then turned and put an arm around each of his brides. Diana winked at him and stepped aside as all the guests stood down the hall and watched. Shortly, Jeff escorted the two young women into a dining room that had been tastefully decorated for their meal.

Seating Joyce, then Caitlin, he took his own seat and waited, passing the few moments by telling them how beautiful they were in their wedding dresses.

Shortly, Dave escorted Linda and Kimberly in. Seated, they too chatted as they waited.

Soon, Bill escorted Kathy in and seated her, then took his seat. A moment later, the girls entered with the wine.

Jeff glanced at Dave, trying to not be obvious. His face is flushed. He wasn't kidding about being nervous. I can feel for you, Buddy. Been there done that; now I'm doing a double just like you. Crap, how am I going to be original tonight? Jennie nudged him on the arm to get his attention as she opened the wine.

-------

Jeff and Fred stood in the hallway awaiting their cue. Soon they were walking side by side through the hallway door into the living room. As they reached the window, they turned, waiting, their backs to the sunset. As the music changed, Jeff's wives, two by two, walked down the stairs and up the aisle, led by Diana their Queen who walked a few steps ahead. Their wedding dresses were all identical, as usual.

When Diana took her place by Jeff's side, Fred stepped back and sat down, Jeff's other wives forming a half-circle with an opening in it, as they had during the last wedding.

The music continued for a little while, then the piano was quiet for a moment before Margaret loudly sounded out the first notes of the Bridal Chorus (from Lohengrin) by Wagner, better known in the US as Here Comes the Bride. With the first notes, Margaret's smile lit her face as she and everyone there turned toward the top of the stairs.

Joyce and Caitlin, resplendent in their new gowns, glided gracefully side-by-side down the long, curving steps. Jeff felt the usual lump in his throat, again wondering how he could be so fortunate.

As they neared, Frank Wainwright walked in the hallway entrance, merging with the brides as they walked by, his arms sliding around them to give them a gentle squeeze of encouragement. A few moments later, they had completed the rest of the distance to Jeff and his waiting wives.

As soon as they stopped in front of Diana and Jeff, Diana, in a clear voice asked, "Who gives these two women to be married to my husband?"

Frank had rehearsed what he had to say; had spoken countless times in front of large groups of people, often held meetings at his companies. Speaking in public was as natural as breathing. He had only a short couple of sentences to deliver.

"I, Frank Wainwright, do," he answered Diana. "Today, I physically represent Ben Hughes, their father, who was taken from this world two years ago..." He felt a presence smile in his mind as his voice faltered for a second. "But he is here with us in spirit today," he finished, suddenly knowing that he had never spoken truer words.

Caitlin, smiling, glanced at Joyce, whispered, "Daddy is here."

Wainwright took a breath, stepped back and returned to his seat close to Margaret at the piano, his face white.

"Are you okay?" Margaret whispered to him.

"Yeah," he absently whispered back, his eyes never leaving the two young women as they stood before the Prime and his Queen.

The ceremony was much as the others in the past. After the rings, Diana presented the new wives and their husband to the audience.

Jesse Goodman sat in the small audience, marveling at what was going on. Squeezing Alesha's hand, he smiled at her as they watched Jeff and his wives leave the room through the hallway door.

A moment later, Wainwright got up and walked out the door.

In the reception room, Frank went straight to Caitlin who turned to face him, her countenance questioning and expectant. Wainwright threw his arms around her and hugged her hard. "I am pleased," he croaked. Turning to Joyce, he pulled her into an equal hug, repeating the short phrase.

"Daddy?" Caitlin and Joyce both whispered.

"You'll be fine now, my daughters," Wainwright said pulling Caitlin back into a hug with them.

After a moment, Frank Wainwright stepped back, a look of utter astonishment on his face. "I, uh..." he stammered.

Caitlin suddenly grabbed him and kissed him hard on the mouth. Pulling back, she looked at him for a moment, her face softened by love and tears. "Thank you, Mr. Wainwright. You have no idea what that meant to me — to us," she said glancing at Joyce, who quickly nodded.

"Frank," he absently corrected.

Joyce kissed him as well. Turning, he went to stand in the hall to wait, his mind awhirl. You're not going to believe this, Babe, he thought as he returned to Margaret.

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff and Diana walked hand-in-hand into the living room. When they reached the big window where they had recently stood, they turned in unison to face the audience, waiting. Captain Bill Madison, accompanied by Dave Henson as his best man, walked through the hallway door to stop before the Alpha Prime and his Queen.

Again, Here Comes the Bride sounded perfectly from the piano as every eye turned toward the stairway.

This time it was Kathy, resplendent in her gown of flowing white as she slowly walked down the stairs, her smile adding to the lighting of the room. As she passed the hallway door, Wainwright took his position beside her.

As they reached Jeff and Diana, Dave stepped away and returned to his brides to watch from the doorway.

"Who gives this woman to this man?" Diana again intoned.

"I, Frank Wainwright, do," Frank said without hesitation, his smile as big as Kathy's.

After the vows and the "I dos" were said, Jeff and Diana spoke in unison, "We now pronounce you man and wife."

Jeff hesitated a moment, making Madison wait. Finally, a smile in his voice, "You may kiss your bride."

The always-composed Bill Madison slowly lifted Kathy's veil, the tears in her eyes sparkling as he leaned over, his lips slowly coming to hers. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her to him and kissed her. It went on so long, that Jeff finally cleared his throat.

"Well, I think that sealed the deal," Jeff chuckled, the audience joining with him.

Diana presented them to the audience.

Bill grabbed Kathy's arm and quickly ushered her out of the living room, heading toward the reception.

-------

This time, Jeff escorted Diana from the hallway to the window where she waited. Returning, he slowly walked back in with Dave a moment later. "Deep breaths," he whispered to his friend as they started toward Diana. "Don't lock your knees when you stand waiting for your brides. Wouldn't want you to pass out on those two beautiful girls," he again whispered, worried that Dave was going to do just that.

Dave passed him a sickly grin as they stopped before Diana, Jeff now taking his place beside her.

In the momentary quiet as Margaret stilled the piano, Diana, seeing Dave's chalky face, leaned forward. Trying to get his mind off what was happening, she whispered, "If you faint on me, I'm going to rib you about it for the rest of our lives."

Dave tried to chuckle, but nothing came out. Evie came down the stairs and slowly walked up the aisle. Just as she reached her husband, Margaret started the march.

"Oh, my goodness," Dave unconsciously whispered as he saw Linda and Kimberly start down the stairway. His eyes transfixed on his brides, he forgot about being tense, and with everyone else, stared. The next day, they would watch the video and Jeff would deal Dave misery about the goofy smile that he had plastered on his face.

The girls' fathers met them when they drew close to the hallway door, escorting them to the waiting couples as the last of the sunset graced the mountains behind the window.

"Who gives this woman to my husband?" Evie asked, as she stood before Linda, the small Queen's voice clear and sharp in the quiet.

"I do," Madison returned.

"And who gives this woman to my husband?" Evie asked as she moved in front of Kimberly.

"Her mother and I do," Joshua DeSantos said, a big smile on his face as tears leaked from his eyes.

The two fathers returned to their seats as the Prime and his Queen presided over the wedding of the four who were to become one.

Sheriff Tate sat flanked by Virginia and Elizabeth, the girls sitting behind them. "It will work," Cindy whispered to Rachel. "He's dead meat. He just doesn't know it yet. Uncle Q, you're going down."

"He's already gone down. He's going in," Rachel whispered back as she fought the giggles.

-------

Jill Madison had stopped several times during the day. Twice she had slept for an hour or so — once in a mall parking lot, the other time in a rest area. Her head felt as if it would burst. Her hands shook. She alternately broke out in a sweat, then was cold. She had eaten a peanut butter sandwich a while back, but had thrown it up a few minutes later.

This can't be AIDS, can it? she thought. He said I was HIV positive, then a couple of months later told me I had AIDS. You can't convert that quickly, can you? This has to be withdrawal from whatever that bastard was giving me. Surely it will go away.

Shakily she righted the seat from the reclining position and started the car. Shit, I'm low on gas and I only have a few dollars left. I'll never get there unless I get some more money. Stoically she faced reality and started looking for a truck stop.

Later, she put three dollars and fifteen cents worth of gas in her car — all the money she had, then pulled around to the truck section.

Parking her car in a good spot, she slipped her high heels on and stepped out, leaving her coat on the seat. Flushed, her body trembling from more than withdrawal and the cold, she walked between the idling big rigs, making sure she remembered exactly where her car was parked.

A fat truck driver walked in her direction, grinning at her.

"Hi, Big Guy," she called out just loud enough for him to hear, making sure her breasts jiggled a little as he approached.

"How much?" he asked, a leer on his face as he talked to her breasts.

"A hundred dollars," she said, hating herself.

"No fucking way, Baby," he laughed. "This ain't the Hilton."

Negotiations went on for a couple of minutes, but no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn't budge over forty dollars, anyway.

Shit. Forty dollars should get me there. I can't stand here all night; I'm freezing in this damn tee-shirt. He can't take his eyes off my tits. He probably doesn't have more than forty dollars. I guess I could look for someone else, but ... a bird in hand, and all that.

"Okay, Baby. But just one time and be careful. You're a big man," she tried to say as diplomatically as she could.

"Over there," he said. "The red Peterbilt pulling the reefer.

She saw a big aluminum looking trailer behind the red truck that he was pointing to, shrugged and walked in that direction, not having the foggiest notion how that big trailer could be a reefer, whatever that was.

Unlocking the door, he helped her in, motioning her on back into the sleeper. This thing is bigger than I imagined it would be,  she thought as she looked around her. Of course, when he got in with her, there was far less room.

"Money first," she said trying to still the trembling in her voice.

"Un uh, Baby. I ain't paying you until I get my dick wet."

"Look at me, and look at you," she finally got the courage to say. "If you screw me first, you'll just throw me out. No way could I get my money if you didn't want to give it to me. As a matter of fact, I don't even know if you have any money. I have to have gas money. I can't risk your cheating me."

"Alright, alright," he said pulling his billfold out of his pocket. There was a chain attached to the billfold, which in turn looped around to his belt.

Pulling out two twenties, he put them on the end of the bed. "Let me see those tits, Baby. They damn sure look good through that tee-shirt."

Reluctantly, she pulled the tee above her breasts. He whistled, a tent quickly forming in his pants. "Wait till the guys hear about this. Shit, Baby, those are the best set of knockers I've ever seen."

Leaning forward, he tried to attach his mouth to her left nipple.

"Wait, don't lie on me," she frantically said trying to squirm away.

"Hell no, Baby. I'd never get between your legs," he said, pulling her over and lying beside her. Taking her breast in his hand, he squeezed too hard.

"Oh, easy. That hurts," she objected.

"Okay, okay," he relented, putting his mouth on her nipple and sucking strongly.

After a couple of moments, "Get those jeans off and get on your knees," he instructed.

"Okay," she said, holding back a scream, her mind scrambling for some way to get to Bill and Linda without doing this.

The trucker rolled to his back and pushed his pants down to his knees, his cock springing up from a curly black bush of hair. His cock not nearly as large as his size would suggest.

Shit, he's not even wearing shorts.

"Get those pants off, Baby. I just stopped to eat. I need to be on the road, but I want to get my rocks off in that sweet pussy of yours."

"Okay," she whispered as she reached for the snap on her jeans. Her hand brushed the two twenty dollar bills on the side of the bed. "What's your name, trucker?" she asked as she sat up.

"Fuck, I guess it don't matter. Ol' lady left two years ago. Names, Rick McCoy. I pull out of Denver."

"What company?" she asked as she smiled at him.

As soon as he told her, she snatched the money and slid out of the sleeper, then across the driver's seat. Pushing the door open, she missed the step on the side of the rig. Hitting the ground hard, she went to her knees and sprawled forward, barely catching herself with an extended hand, skinning her palm.

Standing, she stuffed the money in a pocket, then yanked the tee-shirt below her breasts, hearing the cursing and the scrambling coming from the truck as Rick tried to pull his pants up.

"I'm sorry," she called out to him. "If I ever manage to get any money, I'll try to get it back to you." Crying, she ran as fast as she could in the heels. Another trucker yelled at her as she was opening her car door, but she ignored him. Starting the car, she barely got it moving before the new trucker got there.

Forcing herself to not call attention by driving recklessly, she drove back through the restaurant side of the lot to the street. Shortly, she was back on the Interstate. Looking at her gas gauge, I have enough to get some distance between that trucker and me. Better not stop at the next exit, he might decide to check there.

Hating herself, she concentrated on driving and not throwing up. That son-of-a-bitch made me a whore; now I'm a thief. Rick McCoy. Rick McCoy. She kept repeating, interspersed with the company he said he worked for. The truck door didn't have a name on it; she hoped he hadn't lied about his name and who he pulled for. She would have to remember until she could take the time to write it down. Repeating the name and company, she continued on. I'm sorry. I'm sorry,  she kept thinking as if she were talking to the fat trucker.

Later, down the road, she filled the tank. Taking a pen out of the glove compartment, she found a piece of paper. Writing the trucker's name and company down before she forgot it, she sighed. I'll make it. I'll see my baby one more time. You've ruined my life you bastard. And I guess you've killed me, too. I hope you rot in hell. If I ever get a gun and the chance, I'll help you get there.

Her anger was about the only thing left fueling her body. Fatigue set in after the adrenalin from the episode in the truck stop. I'll drive a few more miles, then find a place to take another nap. Maybe something will stay on my stomach this time.

The miles slowly drifted by.



-------

Chapter 4

FRIDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 27

At the second exit, Jill turned off. Instead of gassing up at one of the stations near the exit, she drove the couple of miles into the little town. It, like many small towns, had been bypassed when the Interstate was built many years ago, the old highway looping back around to rejoin the Interstate a few miles later on. I didn't notice a sign with the name of the place on it. Oh, well, no matter. I have too far to go to worry about which little town I'm in just now. I doubt if that trucker will look for me this far off the Interstate, and the gas prices are nearly a dime a gallon less, anyway.

She filled her tank at a convenience store, feeling guilty as she paid with one of the twenties that she had stolen. Bill will give me the money. No matter how much he hates me, he's a good man. When I tell him what I need the money for, he'll at least help get the trucker his money back.

After using the bathroom, she walked quickly by the coffee, lest she give in to the wonderful smell and buy a cup with her precious money. No. I have to keep that twenty for gas. It's going to be close, anyhow. Maybe too close. My car is using more gas than I expected, and I can't drive any slower without attracting attention.

A few minutes later, she was on the old four-lane headed to the Interstate as the sun began to set in the distance. An eighteen-wheeler loaded with compressed cars passed and pulled in front of her. A piece of metal — she thought it looked like a piece of exhaust pipe — fell from the trailer. She swerved, but the thing bounced and went under her car, anyway. There was a loud thump under her hood.

Oh, God. No. Don't let it mess up my car. She heard a noise that didn't sound right, though — an intermittent sound as if someone were spraying water on a fan, and she smelled antifreeze. Pulling over to the side of the road, still in the outskirts of the little town, she stopped. Sighing, she pulled the hood latch and got out.

After raising the hood, the smell of antifreeze was much stronger. The front part of the engine was wet. The world seemed to cave in on her and she staggered back to the side of the car, pulled the door open and got in.

Putting her head down on the steering wheel, she gave up and sobbed. Everything is against me. First, I went to this doctor when my gynecologist suddenly closed his practice. Ingles was on the list of suggested doctors that Doctor Roosevelt had posted on his door when he left suddenly due to "health reasons." Ingles was in the same building, so I just went there. Everything after that is vague — like it happened to someone else.

But I remember that bastard fucking me. I remember him taking me to those rich bastards, as well. It was like my brain wouldn't control my body. No matter what I wanted to do, I always did exactly what Ingles said. I thought I was going to get away after he forgot to give me the meds that night, especially when I managed to keep from taking them after that. Today, I could function again, even if I do have the shakes. Now this. If I go to the police for help, that asshole will get me back. He's told me over and over that if I ever tried to run, he would call the police first thing and tell them I was a patient badly in need of my medication. That my mind would be permanently affected if I didn't receive the meds promptly; that the cops would call him first thing because he was a doctor. He said my punishment would be something I would never forget for the rest of my short life. That sadistic prick will do it, too.

She sat and shook — some of the shaking due to withdrawal from Ingles' drugs, some because of her sobbing, some because of her intense fear of the man. Hopeless, she sobbed for long minutes, then: "Lady are you okay?" a portly man repeated as he knocked harder on her window.

Jill jerked away thinking that Ingles had found her. Her mind blanked for a moment as she almost fled to the other side of the car trying to escape. But reason took over and she focused on the man standing beside her car. Heavyset, he was close to fifty, wearing a wide-brimmed western hat, a light coat and jeans, a look of concern on his face.

"Are you okay, Ma'am?" he said again.

Jill nodded, then flipped the ignition switch on momentarily so her window control would work. As the window slid down, I must look ridiculous. He's just standing there smiling at me, and I almost panicked. All I could think of was that Ingles had found me. Oh, God, I wish I had a tissue to wipe my nose. How did I ever get this far down? I can't even buy a box of Kleenex.

"I'm, uh ... a big truck passed me. It was carrying a load of crushed cars. Something fell off and I ran over it. There's antifreeze all over my engine" she managed past her stuffed-up nose and the congestion from crying, barely managing to get enough air into her lungs for her choppy sentences. Coughing, she leaned back in the seat.

"You from around here?" he asked, more concern evident in his voice, but she had to wait to answer him because an eighteen-wheeler roared by them. He grabbed his hat to keep it from blowing away, the truck making so much noise they couldn't hear each other for a moment.

"No, Sir. I'm trying to get to Denver, but I'm about out of money. I can't pay a garage to fix my car. I can't do anything," she said, the tears coming back, much to her consternation. "Oh, shit," she blurted. "All I can do is blubber."

"You don't have anyone to call? You can use my phone," he said, digging his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.

"I don't have anyone," she said, her voice broken as she struggled to hold back the sobs that threatened to overpower her again. "My only hope ... is to get to Denver, and I have twenty dollars to my name. That's barely enough to buy me gas to get there. I just filled my tank, though."

"Let me look in the front. Maybe it isn't as bad as you think."

Without waiting, he went to the front of her car. Looking under the hood for a moment, he leaned over as far as he could trying to find the problem. A moment later, he knelt down in front of the car. Jill got out and approached him as he turned on his back trying to squeeze under the bumper, his hat and jacket now lying beside him on the ground.

"You're going to get filthy lying in the gravel," Jill said, worried.

"Clothes will wash," she heard as he managed to get his head and part of a shoulder under the front of the car. After a moment, he grunted and scrambled back out. Putting his hat back on, he struggled to his feet, then picked up his jacket. As he was putting it on, he said, "Looks like something cut a chunk out of your bottom radiator hose. I'm not much of a mechanic, but even I could fix it with a new hose and a screwdriver."

"How much would a hose cost?" Jill said, her depression sounding in her voice.

"Well, they vary, obviously. I had one replaced a year or so ago. It cost just under thirty dollars for the hose. Don't know what yours will cost, but a friend of mine who owns a garage put mine on for twenty bucks."

Jill saw him eyeing her obviously braless breasts, her nipples tenting the tight tee-shirt in the cool air, but he wasn't leering, just glanced and looked away.

"Look, these are the only clothes I could get. Right now, the clothes I'm wearing and this car are the only things I have in the world. Is there some place that you know where I could get work — wash dishes at a restaurant, something like that to get the money to fix my car?"

"Ma'am, I guess with all that traffic noise from those trucks, you didn't hear me. I'm pastor Luther Cambridge. That church you see down the road there," he said, pointing to a small church in the distance, "is mine. No, we're not very big, and preaching isn't my full-time job, at least money-wise, but financing a water hose, and getting someone to put it on isn't going to be much of a problem," he said with what she thought was a Texas drawl, but this was the north part of Wyoming.

"Probably the first thing we need to do is get you over to my house where you'll be warm, then I'll get ol' Oliver to come out and put a hose on for you."

Being leery of a stranger who claimed to be a church pastor must have shown on her face. Even with the easygoing nature he presented, she wasn't getting into a car with him. "Well, uh, Pastor Cambridge, I..."

"Folks around here just call me Preacher. And I can already see where you're coming from. Don't blame you. Hang on a minute and let me get my wife on the phone."

Jill tried to stammer out an apology, but wound down as he dialed his cell, making a quick synopsis of what had happened as he talked to someone on the phone. Closing the phone and returning it to his pocket, he smiled at her. "My wife will be here in a minute or two. We only live a few blocks away. Why don't you set back down in your car and get out of the wind until she gets here."

As she started to comply, his phone in his hand again, "What year is this?" he almost absently asked, waving at her car as he dialed.

When she told him, he just motioned for her to get into her car. "Oliver, need a bit of help. How about going over to the parts store and picking up..." The sound of his voice was cut off when she closed her door.

A few minutes later an older model Ford F150 pulled in front of the preacher's car. A woman who seemed almost a female version of the man, exited the pickup and walked back. Jill shakily got out as the woman approached. Well, I'll give her credit, she didn't even blink when I got out in this outfit, Jill thought as the woman stopped near her husband.

"What have you gotten up to now?" the heavyset woman laughed as she put her hands on her hips and mock frowned at the preacher.

"Well, I can't help it. God must just send them to me," he laughed. Turning to Jill, he indicated his wife and said, "This is my better half, Megan, I would introduce you but I don't..."

"Jill. Jill Madison. I seem to be having a bad day," she tried to joke. "Well maybe a bad year," she said laughing. Well, she meant to, but it didn't come out right. The woman's face was moving from side to side and getting blurrier by the moment; the world seemed to sway. Jill tried to laugh again, but nothing came out.

"Catch her, Hon," she heard as if from a great distance. "The poor thing is about to..."

-------

The reception was a blast. Evie finally managed to get Margaret aside for a moment. "You did a superb job on the piano."

Margaret chuckled. "Glad to help out. Might as well get a little use out of all those piano lessons my dad paid for. Besides, you couldn't play and be in the wedding at the same time. I had a ball."

"Well, when you played the first notes of Here Comes the Bride for our wedding, it gave me chills."

"Especially, since those two girls were shortly going to be your sister-wives," Margaret grinned back at her.

"Yeah, there is that, and they are my sister-wives now. But aren't they beautiful?" she said indicating Linda and Kim as they laughed and animatedly talked to guests. Dave, standing with his arms around the two young women, winked at Evie as he noticed her looking.

Bill Madison and his new wife sat at a table, Kathy with her head snuggled to his shoulder as Frank Wainwright topped off their wine glasses. Jennie and Melissa descended on them demanding pictures. Melissa wielded the camera while Jennie coached them into poses.

"But, Evie just had us in the other room taking pictures..." Kathy protested.

Then from Melissa, "Oh, those were professional pictures. We want our own candid shots, too. Now quit griping and say cheese."

Joyce and Caitlin had Jeff backed into a corner getting a head start on priming their husband's pump. Jeff, red-faced, was diligently trying to keep from having an erection — a problem he was well on his way to losing.

"I need to rescue our husband," Diana said, breaking away from talking to Annie, "before those two have his pants off."

"And the problem with that is?" Annie laughed as she pinched her husband on the butt.

Wow,  Diana thought as she walked away from Annie. Little One really did a job on those two. Both of them look twenty years younger in this short a period of time. If this keeps on, they'll have a hard time when they try to renew their driver's licenses.

"Hi, my new sister-wives," Diana said as she reached out to touch Jeff.

"Oh," Caitlin said turning to hug Diana. "Daddy was here," she told her for the second time, the young woman's enthusiasm barely under control. "I could feel him, and Mr. Wainwright said he could, too. Oh, isn't it wonderful. Mr. Wainwright said that it was Daddy speaking when he told us that he was pleased. Oh, I'm not crazy after all. Joyce felt him this time. He's pleased that we're getting married. He told me so in my dreams, but this was different," she finished, almost exploding with her exuberance.

In the meantime, Joyce had seized the opportunity to lock her mouth to her new husband's. Jeff enthusiastically returned the kiss.

Resigned, Diana turned to Evie. "We might as well get this show on the road before these two take Jeff's clothes off in front of everyone." But the sparkle in her eyes belied the sound of her remarks.

There wasn't a lot of randomness going on when the brides threw their bouquets. Elizabeth, Rachel, Cindy, Carla, Jessica, Alesha, Margaret, Martha, and Annie's friend all "caught" bridal bouquets. Yeah, nine bouquets from five brides. Perhaps there was a little fudging going on, and a whole lot of deliberate aim. The double-sided tape that Arlene and Ann had attached to the bouquets made it almost impossible to not catch them.

The garters were another matter. Usually the husband takes the garter off at some point, and this was the way it happened tonight, as well — mostly. Instead of the husband just kneeling down and removing the garter as his bride raised her skirt enough for him to reach, the grooms were seated in a row.

As things got started, Diana put on a bump and grind stripper CD. Jeff was first as Joyce came up in front of him. She raised her foot to prop on the chair between his legs. Joyce slid her skirt higher as Jeff reached for the garter, but she grinned at him and slid the center of the skirt high enough to give him a peek at her pink panties with a white bow over her pussy.

Caitlin replaced Joyce and did basically the same thing, except her panties were a pale green.

By now, the guests had figured it out and were cheering the brides on.

Sitting beside Jeff, Bill was next. Kathy, her face scarlet, didn't back down, but gave her new husband a good panty shot as the laughter grew louder.

Then Dave. He had lost most of his tenseness when he saw his brides coming down the stairs. But Evie's catcalls and wolf whistles as she stood behind her husband, her hands on his shoulders, brought a deep blush to his face as Kim raised her foot and placed it on the chair close to his groin.

As Dave slid the garter down Kim's shapely leg, she raised her skirt so only he and Evie could see — bare pussy with a tiny red bow attached to her skin just above her nether lips.

Evie let out a giggle that told everyone in the room that Kim was bare. Before Dave could close his gaping mouth, Linda took Kim's place. Her bow was identical, and she gave Dave a prolonged view before he managed to get the garter down and she lowered her skirt.

Bill, still sitting beside Dave, had roared with laughter as his daughter teased her new husband, but he lost that laughter in a gulp when Linda left Dave and stepped in front of him (Bill). She placed the other foot with her toes touching his groin. Sliding the skirt up, "This second garter is yours," she said in a quiet, sexy voice as she slid the skirt higher.

Bill struggled to breathe as he stared at his daughter's bare pussy decorated with the tiny red bow. "Sometime during the month, I'm coming to see you. I already have my husband's and your wife's permission. My Queen and my sister-wife have also given their permission."

Kathy, standing behind Bill, squeezed his shoulders, then leaned over and kissed his neck. Linda stepped back with a giggle, her eyes riveted to the growing bulge in Bill's groin.

Kathy leaned over to whisper in Bill's ear. "She's not going to forget this, Love. She's dreamed of you for years. She loves Dave, but she loves you, too. I'm fine with this, and she loves you too much for you to turn her down. Even Dave can see that. I know it's going to be hard on him, or at least I'm afraid it is. But there's no other way. Don't you hurt her feelings."

Bill stood, pushed the chair out of the way and kissed his new wife as Linda winked at Kathy. "I love you," he said, taking Kathy in his arms.

"Good, then get me a piece of cake," she said as they broke the kiss. "I don't even remember what dinner tasted like. I was too busy looking at you."

"But we've already shared that piece of cake when Evie was taking pictures."

"I'm hungry, Husband," Kathy said, laughing.

Turning toward the cake table, "One piece of cake coming up," he called over his shoulder as he headed that way.

"Better get you one, too," Kathy called after him loudly enough for everyone to hear. "You've work to do later."

Kathy giggled as she saw Bill's ears turning red.

-------

Cindy and Rachel sat together on the side of the room a little away from the others. "This cake is good," Rachel said.

"Yeah," Cindy absently answered as she took her eyes away from her Uncle Q long enough to look around the room.

"I like these people," Rachel said smiling at her sister.

"You bet. They're nice. And they went out of their way to include us in everything," Cindy agreed. Nodding toward their mother as she and Helen talked, Cindy continued, "Looks like Mom hasn't been bashful about showing her feelings for Uncle Q."

"Yeah, I noticed," Rachel giggled, thinking about the way her mother and aunt Virginia had hung onto Tate. "But it isn't anything out of the ordinary around here. Heck, the ones who stand out are the ones with only one wife, or girlfriend," she laughed.

Cindy took another bite of cake, cutting her eyes meaningfully toward Deputy Goodman and Alesha. "Looks like all those two do is hold hands, though."

"She's the one who helped him with Deputy Cramer," Rachel offered.

"Oh, I know that. But it doesn't look like Goodman has gotten very far with her."

"Maybe not. But she has him to the step-and-fetch stage," Rachel laughed.

"Yeah, I guess. She's smiling and everything, but she seems ... reserved. Like she's holding back, or something."

"Yeah, I think you're right. But she's living here with these people, looks like she would..."

"Come on, you two," Ann said as she quickly walked up. "You can't be sitting here by yourselves. The brides and grooms are going to be going to the honeymoon suites soon. I'm tickled for our husband, and I love my new sister-wives, but I kinda wish I could be there with them," she finished with a sexy grin on her face.

"But there are so many of you," Rachel blurted.

Ann paused for a second, then, "There are things you don't know about Alphas, yet. Your 'Uncle Q' as you call him will be, uh ... changing some in the future. Our Alpha is a Prime, as Diana told you earlier. He will talk to your Alpha and help him to learn how to control his pheromones. Probably also give him some hints about taking care of multiple wives; although, from the looks of those two," she said glancing at Virginia and Elizabeth as they again stood with their arms around Tate, "he might not need much in the way of advice about that. They can hardly take their eyes off him."

"'Our Alpha?'" Cindy repeated. "He's Mom and Aunt Virginia's Alpha. We're just his nieces. We aren't his wives like you guys are to your Alpha."

"Oh, we know that," Ann said smiling, including her sister-wives in the comment. "But you will be. And I'm sure you want to be. You can't not with being around him all your lives, whether his abilities were enhanced before or not."

Ann suddenly found herself with two teary-eyed girls. "Whoa. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings ... What did I say wrong?"

"Can you help us?" Cindy interrupted. "We've got a little bit of an idea, but it's more hope than anything else. And ... he's all tied up in being a Sheriff. He won't do it with us. He's, uh, made love to us. Well you know, but he won't take our virginity."

"Hmmm," Ann said looking back at Sheriff Tate. "Moral laws are stupid, but as Jeff says, they can make headlines with the do-gooders, as Jeff calls them, pushing the media. You two are of age?" she absently asked.

"Yeah," from both girls.

"So it's the incest taboos that are affecting him?"

"Yeah, that's what we think. He hasn't come out and said so, but we think that's what it is."

Ann turned back to them, staring hard at them. "Don't push him about it. Let me get my sister-wives and our Queen into this. Jeff might have some ideas, too."

"Thank you," Cindy said. "We don't have anyone who we can talk to about this. And he's only been making love to Mom for a day or two. She knows that we love him, but we think she's still in shock from, uh, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Ann said. Glancing back at the others, she continued, "They're almost ready to go to the suites for their wedding night. Let's go hug everyone and wish them well. We'll talk about this later."

-------

Diana and Evie stood in a little alcove that overlooked the front of the retreat, the big bay window giving them a great view of the lighted grounds and the light snow that had begun falling. Neither woman paid any attention to the outside, though as they intently focused on their topic of conversation.

"Oh, God, Diana, she looks so healthy. She told me about the headaches, and I guess I just thought it would turn out to be migraines, anyway. And to be truthful, I didn't worry at all. I guess I've become so accustomed to the Healer being able to take care of us. I mean; look at me. I had a boy not a bit over nineteen hit on me the other day. And you look even younger than me — although, you are actually a little younger."

"Yeah, but not that much," Diana inserted.

"I'm scared that the physical exertion ... This is their wedding night. If they want him to, I'm pretty sure that Dave can do them all night. He can damn sure fuck me to death. Kim told me she had been dreaming of this for years. I don't mean just dreaming of her wedding night, as any girl would do, but dreaming of being with Dave. Shit, Diana, she's not going to want to sleep through it. What if something happens..."

Diana suddenly grabbed her pixie friend. "Hush, hush," she soothed. "The Healer will be right next door. Here," she said, putting a slip of paper in Evie's hand. "That's the intercom number for the phone in Jeff's honeymoon suite, so you won't have to look it up. You know the number in our suite. Jeff can be there in seconds if you need the Healer. And remember, Jeff is pretty sure that Little One understands that Kim will have sex tonight, and hasn't forbidden it."

"Crap. I wish we could talk to her. And I understand your logic, I'm..."

" ... just worried," Diana finished for her. "We all are. But you need to stop that, or get it under control. Kim will figure out that something is wrong and worry that you are jealous or something."

"But, I'm not. I've loved her all her life. To have her for a sister-wife is wonderful..."

"Then that's what you need to focus on."

"Oh, I wish I could tell Dave. But I know that he would worry and be too gentle with her. He would treat her as if she would break, or something. She'd realize it and probably think ... Hell, I don't know what she would think, but it would ruin the best night of her life."

Startling her, Diana kissed Evie hard on the mouth. The kiss didn't last long, but Evie was breathless afterward. Objectively, Evie knew that Diana had tried to shock her enough to change her morbid train of thought.

Stunned, Evie stared at Diana, who smiled at her and said, "Now go get Dave's harem together and get him plugged into those two virgins," she finished, giggling.

"Diannaaa," Evie laughed, drawing out the name. "That was..."

"Gross," Diana laughed. "Now get going before you start worrying again. Leave the worrying to me; you just make sure everything goes the way it should with your two new sister-wives."

"You kissed me," Evie said.

"We've kissed before," Diana said, a grin on her face as they started for the reception area.

"Not like that, you haven't," Evie said catching up with her and linking arms. "But I'm not bi," Evie protested.

"Neither am I," Diana said, wondering at the definition and deciding that it didn't fit what she and her sister-wives had together — nor what she and Evie shared.

Evie touched her mouth, reliving the sensation as they turned into the reception area.



-------

Chapter 5


Captain Bill Madison stood in the hallway next to his new copilot who was now his wife. Glancing at the door, he grinned as he realized that someone had thoughtfully left it slightly ajar so he could easily walk through carrying his bride.

Taking Kathy in his arms, he leaned over and kissed her, both of them hearing the laughter and catcalls from the others gathered at the other end of the hallway. Arlene hooked two fingers in her mouth and let loose a whistle loud enough to cause several of their guests to clap their hands over their ears.

"It's time to go," Bill quietly said to a giggling Kathy.

"Give them a show," she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling at her good fortune.

"You've got it," Bill suddenly laughed. Quickly, he flipped her over his shoulder, accompanied by her shriek of delight.

"Yes," she hissed as he waved to the others and carried his bride to her fate.

-------

Dave stood near their assigned suite with Kim, Linda and Evie. Which one do I carry in first? I don't want to do anything that would seem like I'm showing favorites... 

"Don't even think about it," Evie said as if reading his mind. "We've settled it fairly. Kim goes first, then Linda. I'll follow you in as you carry her."

"Bullshit," Dave hissed under his breath. "I'll carry each of you across the threshold."

"You've already carried me across the threshold to our hotel room when we got married, then again when we bought our first house," Evie tried to reason.

"If you walk through that door, I'll turn you over my knee and blister your ass right in front of everyone," Dave grinned down at his little Queen.

Grinning or not, she was afraid he meant it. Feeling her nipples pop as she thought about it, she almost defied him, but didn't want to ruin things for her sister-wives.

"Yes, Sir," she teased, a smirk on her pretty face.

Taking Kim in his arms, Dave kissed her. Lifting her, he pushed through the door, put her gently on the couch, and whispered, "Be right back."

Kim grinned at him as he hurried into the hallway.

Kissing Linda as he had Kim, he scooped her up and carried her inside, putting her beside Kim. Both girls now giggling.

A moment later in the hallway as he leaned down to kiss Evie, she whispered. "Most of these people have seen you throw me over your shoulder. I'm not in the mood for the delicate treatment. Just toss me over your shoulder like you usually do."

"You sure?" he whispered back. "I love you."

"Yes, I'm positive," Evie hissed. "And if you don't do it soon, I'm going to have an orgasm just standing here."

When he saw her shiver, he believed her; although, he couldn't quite understand what had turned her on. Nevertheless, he flipped his pixie Queen over his shoulder as he had many times in the past. Waving to the onlookers as Arlene vibrated the chandeliers again, he walked through the door, Evie shivering out an orgasm on his shoulder.

-------

"You sure?" Jeff whispered to Diana as he kissed her on her ear.

"I'm sure that you had better stop that before I embarrass everyone here," Diana said as she kissed her husband on the cheek. "It's different with Evie. If we had started that in the beginning, it would be alright. But we've all had a private night with you, and even Caitlin and Joyce were given the choice. They chose to be together, because they have been since they started making love to Caitlin's father. We'll all be together tomorrow night. And I'll be first, then."

When Jeff kissed her and started to turn to leave, Diana grabbed his arm. Pulling him near, she whispered in his ear. "Fuck their brains out. They're your wives now. Bring them down one at a time to show their pussies in the kitchen in the morning. Be there around eight. I'll make sure only your wives are in the room."

Jeff grabbed the back of Diana's head, putting his mouth hard against hers as he kissed her. "I love you," he whispered, then turned toward his new wives who were waiting a short distance away.

A little later, Jeff and his two new wives stood in front of the original bridal suite. "Is Diana okay?" a worried Caitlin asked. "She was whispering to you. Is she having second thoughts?"

Jeff chuckled in spite of himself. "Not at all. She was just making sure that her husband treated his new wives properly."

At Caitlin's dubious look, he continued, "She told me to fuck your brains out, and I intend to do what my Queen ordered."

"Well, I surely can't argue with that 'order, '" Joyce said turning and putting her arms around her husband's neck. "Caitlin and I tossed for it. You carry me across the threshold first, and she gets you inside her first. Let's get this show on the road," she finished, using a term that Diana had used a little while ago, making Jeff wonder.

Jeff kissed Joyce hard, picked her up and spun them around, then went inside the suite as their audience provided verbal support.

A few moments later, he did the same with Caitlin, but stumbled going through the door as Caitlin locked her mouth to his, her right hand slipping between them to grab his swollen cock.

Inside the room, Joyce pushed the door to. "Just carry her on into the bedroom and I'll walk. Diana said that you carried your brides to the bed, but we're not interested..."

Jeff put Caitlin on the couch and pulled Joyce to him, touching his fingertips to her lips to stop her. "You two need to sit here for a few minutes, I've got something I have to do before we all go into the bedroom," he said, nudging Joyce to sit beside her sister.

"You have it with you, don't you?" Caitlin interrupted. "I felt something when I put my arms around you when you carried me in."

"Uh," Jeff said, his mind racing.

"Something is wrong, isn't it?" Caitlin accused.

"Uh, look, this is our wedding night..."

"Jeff, we're your wives now," Joyce said standing to put her arms around his neck as she looked up at him. "Spit it out. We're now part of that team that you and Diana — well, all of you — talk about."

"Why don't you two just sit here for a bit? There's wine there on ice," he said motioning to the wine bucket on the coffee table. "Maybe we need to have a little more while we..."

Joyce plopped back down on the couch, both of them looking up at him. After a quick exchange of glances between the women, Caitlin said, "We've had enough wine. Just talk, please. What's bothering you?"

Shit. Jeff thought. They're already doing it. Sighing, he sat between them, putting an arm around each of them. Well, they know about the Healer. No sense beating around the bush.

"I have Little One with me tonight for a couple of reasons. Number one: I'm going to have her close by tonight because she found that Kim has a tumor in her brain."

There were gasps from the two women.

"But she healed Joyce..." Caitlin stumbled out.

"Yeah, and that's the main reason the Healer is with us tonight. As best I can determine, she's already started the healing process, but it isn't over yet. Kim would probably have died in a few months if I hadn't used the Healer on her."

"And you used the Healer on her, when?" Caitlin asked.

"Uh, this morning before I went on my run. But Little One took much longer than I expected."

"So you do this to everyone?"

"I wish," Jeff said. "But yeah, I use her on everyone that we're — intimately — associated with. Our friends, family; all I can without someone finding out outside the family."

"Will Kim be all right?" Joyce asked.

"I ... think so. As best I can tell the tumor is in the area of the brain called The Circle of Willis."

"Oh, shit," Caitlin gasped out.

"Bad?" Joyce asked looking at her sister-wife.

"Yeah. Really bad," Caitlin quietly said.

"Let's not panic about this," Jeff said. "Remember she healed you from a brain injury, Joyce, not to say anything about your heart," he finished, glancing at Cramer.

"But this is..." Caitlin said.

"More ... difficult," Jeff finished for her.

"So you weren't going to tell us about this because it was our wedding night?" Caitlin asked, but didn't expect an answer. "You were just going to keep it to yourself?"

"Diana knows, and she told Evie. We decided to keep quiet about it for the time being. How could Kim enjoy her wedding night, knowing that she has a brain tumor?"

"So Dave doesn't know?" Joyce asked as Jeff sat between them.

"No. I'll hit them all with it tomorrow," he said taking their hands. "I'm almost positive that Little One would have made it clear that Kim should..."

"Refrain from physical activity," Caitlin interjected, a grin on her face.

" ... from physical activity if it were necessary. Little One is, however, adamant that she is supposed to be with Kim again tomorrow."

"So where is ... Little One, now?" Caitlin asked.

"Uh, she doesn't always look the way you saw her when she was ... healing Joyce."

The two young women leaned forward to look at each other as they sat on either side of Jeff.

"So what does she look like now, and where is she?" Caitlin asked looking back at Jeff.

"Uh, she has the ability to ... spread herself out across my shoulders."

"That's where the Healer is now?" Joyce said, an odd sound to her voice.

"Yeah. That's why I wanted you two to sit on the couch for a minute while I went in the bedroom and put her in a dresser drawer. I didn't want..."

"So are we supposed to be freaked out by something that saved my life?" Joyce said.

"Someone," Jeff corrected. "As we talked about before, and you saw her: she's alien. I just didn't want..."

"So she's going to be cooped up in a drawer while we're making love?" Caitlin said.

"Look ladies, I was just trying..."

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Joyce laughed. "Trying to protect your two delicate new wives. You're forgetting something, Big Boy. I'm a deputy, and my sweet sister-wife — hey, I like the sound of that — is an intensive care nurse. Do you honestly think we're going to freak out if you put it, uh, her on the dresser in plain sight?"

"So, she's under your jacket?" Caitlin asked without waiting for Jeff to answer Joyce.

"Look, my wives. I was concerned that you..."

"Well, we won't," Joyce said. "So slip your coat off and let's see her."

Jeff stood, slipped his suit coat off and tossed it on a chair.

"She's not..." Caitlin started, but abruptly stopped. "She's under your shirt?"

"Yeah," Jeff said taking his tie off and tossing it on his coat.

"You're gonna do a striptease for us, Husband?" Caitlin teased.

Jeff grinned at them. "No, I'm going in the bedroom and put her on the dresser."

"So, seeing her on your shoulders is more than your fragile little wives can stand?" Joyce said.

"Look, Ladies. Seeing her on my shoulders isn't what I'm worried about. It's her changing shape that's a little weird. If my collar isn't tight, she can sort of flow out to form into her usual shape."

"Oh, come on, Jeff. Try cleaning up and changing dressings on decubitus..." At Jeff's blank look, "... Bedsores as big as your hand so deep that you can see the bone. It isn't rare at all to see that, or worse, on some of the old people who come in from nursing homes. I don't even want to tell you some of the things we have to do on a regular basis. And Joyce has seen blood and guts from day one on her job. Quit trying to protect us, and get Little One out here. We have things to do tonight, and Joyce and I have plans for our new husband."

Jeff looked at Joyce, who grinned at him. "Let's see her."

Inwardly sighing, thinking about how much different this night was starting out, he quickly took off his shirt. After tossing it on the chair with his coat, he stripped the tee-shirt off. Turning, he presented his back to his new wives.

"Neat," Caitlin and Joyce said in unison.

Oh, shit. Not two more doing that,  Jeff thought.

Intently looking at the almost translucent Healer spread over Jeff's shoulders and halfway down his back, Joyce said, "She has a faint blue cast. Oh, she's beautiful," she whispered.

"Will she come to me?" Caitlin asked, then, "Oh, that didn't sound right. I mean will she consent to sitting in my hands?"

"Baby, understand that she doesn't speak English, or any other language for that matter. She mostly interprets what you say through my mind, and at best, it's a muddied version. She's a telepath trying to communicate with a person (me) who isn't wired for that. Our minds are drastically different. She 'heard' you through my mind, and whatever she manages through her auditory senses. But my interpretations of the concepts and feelings she just sent me are: 'Certainly. I would be honored.'"

If either of the women were put off by the Healer changing shape and flowing into Caitlin's hand, they didn't show it.

"Oh, she's warm," Caitlin said a moment later as she held Little One.

Without thought, the young nurse stroked the Healer as if she were a kitten, just as the girls were wont to do. "She likes that," Caitlin said holding her hand closer to Joyce so she could pet her, too.

Without hesitation, Joyce stroked the rectangular shaped alien in her sister-wife's hand. "Ohhh, she feels nice," Joyce agreed. "And she likes us," she added as Caitlin nodded, unconsciously biting her lip to keep from giggling.

Caitlin and Joyce resumed their seats on the couch as they continued to make over Little One. Jeff, smiling at them, sat beside Joyce. Propping his feet on the coffee table, Jeff leaned back and chuckled, then just said the hell with it and laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Joyce wanted to know as she glanced up from kissing Little One.

Jeff just looked at them for a moment, then, "You have no idea how worried I've been. You see, sometimes I make love to my wives with Little One still under my tee-shirt. Heck, we were worried that you two would be uncomfortable with her visible in the bedroom. I guess you're not going to be," he finished.

"But she saved my life, Jeff. Besides, she's cute."

"I agree that she is cute, and she is very much a friend to me, but never think that she's just a cute little puppy. Her technology is so far beyond ours there isn't even any common ground — at least in general. Also, if I understand her correctly, she is far from being unable to defend herself. What she does requires energy. When the bear attacked me, she didn't have enough energy available to replace — for the lack of a better term — the missing flesh that the bear ripped off.

"She has managed to tap into — to some extent — a power source that her..." Jeff ground to a halt, not wanting to talk about the ship. "Well, another power source. She's still working with expanding that, but even so, she's a lot more powerful now than she was a few weeks ago. If we could just freely talk to each other ... well, even so, we manage to communicate about a lot of things."

Caitlin's expression changed. Continuing to hold Little One, the young wife turned to Jeff. "I have talked to Daddy, or seemed to have talked to him several times since we've come to live here. You've told us that Little One has ... healed us, for lack of a better term. I never talked to Daddy after his ... death. Not until you used the Healer on us. Diana told us about Fred seeming to 'talk' to his dead wife. She thinks there's a connection. Little One is a telepath. Does she have some connection with ... the dead?"

Jeff hesitated. "I've, uh, tried to ask her that. It's a lot of coincidence for two people that I've used the Healer on to mention talking with a deceased love one. But if you're looking for an answer from me, then you're going to be disappointed. I received a jumble of concepts — I guess you could call them — that I don't understand. I've tried this twice, with both of us wound up frustrated. But I can't help but believe that something is definitely going on. I just don't know what."

"I felt him tonight, too, Jeff," Joyce offered. "Not that I didn't believe Caitlin before, but I felt him. And Mr. Wainwright said that it was Ben. Well, he said it was our father. Oh, Jeff, he still refers to me as his daughter, too. He said he would always consider me to be his daughter, and you have no idea how much that meant to me — means to me, still. I miss him so," she finished, taking a deep breath to keep from crying.

"But he's okay with our marriage," Caitlin said. "I knew he would be, even before he told me in my, uh, dreams, or whatever they were. But he was like our husband, although, we never mentioned anything like that at the time."

Suddenly smiling, Caitlin handed Little One to Jeff. "Okay, Husband, my sister-wife and I are ready. Why don't you put Little One somewhere where she can watch and listen? We're long overdue to have that beautiful cock of yours inside us. Right, my Love?" she asked, turning to Joyce.

"You bet," Joyce agreed. "Seeing all those muscles has already gotten me wet."

When Jeff got up to put Little One in the bedroom, Joyce and Caitlin started to follow him. "Un uh," he admonished, turning to them. "I've carried all my wives — well, one way or the other — into the bedroom. Ain't gonna change now," he laughed. "I'll be right back."

Shortly, Little One was sitting on the dresser within a few feet of the bed, and both of the women were lying upon it.

"Just get rid of those pants and shorts," Joyce said. "We want you to play with us some in our wedding dresses, but we want to see our husband without his clothes."

"You've seen me before," Jeff said as he kicked his shoes off and sat on the bed to get rid of his socks.

"And we hope to see you a few thousand more times," Caitlin laughed.

"Only a few thousand?" Joyce chimed in. "I thought, with the Healer, that we were going to have a very long life. That should put our good times way above a few thousand," she laughed.

As Jeff pulled his shorts down, his cock sprang free to smack against his belly, then to stand out swaying as he moved. As he kicked the shorts away, Joyce's laughter abruptly stopped. "Oh, shit, you're beautiful," she whispered.

"Men are not beautiful," Jeff admonished.

"The heck they aren't," Caitlin said. "At least the one we're looking at, is."

"That thing is going to split me in half," Joyce said. "But I bet I'll die with a grin on my face."

"You've seen it before," Jeff repeated.

"Yeah, but we knew it wasn't going up inside us, then," Caitlin quietly said. "Daddy wasn't nearly that big, but we had tons of orgasms. You've already given us lots of them just playing with us — even kissing us, but..."

" ... we're a little apprehensive," Joyce finished for her.

"The girls all take it just fine," Jeff laughed, moving onto the bed near their feet. "I like your heels," he said admiring the white spikes.

Caitlin smiled at Jeff. "We thought you would like them. Diana said you liked heels and suggested that we buy these since they had ankle straps that would keep them on while we..."

"Fucked," Joyce offered with a giggle.

"Well, I don't think I've ever met a man who complained about seeing a good looking woman in heels," Jeff agreed.

Kneeling on the bed, he took a moment to admire his wives. Their identical dresses with deeply plunging necklines that went almost to their belly buttons drew his eyes as their breasts came tantalizingly near falling out, seemingly with their every movement. Neither woman was wearing a bra, of course, and with their youth, plus the healer's attention to their bodies, neither needed any support.

Caitlin's short, but fiery red hair framed a pretty face that would draw a man's attention anywhere. The sprinkling of freckles across her nose made him want to kiss them.

His eyes shifted to Joyce, her long, full hair pushed to one side for the moment, flowing across her left shoulder onto the pillow. The red highlights in her dark hair seem to stand out and compliment Caitlin's hair as they lay close together holding hands, their eyes never leaving him.

He had earlier noticed how the heels caused the muscles of their long slim legs to stand out as they walked. "Uh, I do, indeed, love sexy high heels on beautiful women, but not at the expense of making my wives uncomfortable while we make love."

Caitlin and Joyce both chuckled. "Diana bought these for us on the net — had them overnighted. If you knew how much they cost, you might not be as enthused, but they are comfortable. I never thought heels could be, but these have changed our minds. Right Joyce?" Caitlin said.

"You bet," Joyce said, "And besides," she added pointing to the mirror. "I want to watch you fucking me with my legs wrapped around that great looking ass of yours."

Laughing, Jeff moved up between them. Starting with Caitlin, he kissed her for a time. Breaking the kiss, he told her that he loved her as his hand pushed the dress gently away from her left breast. As he circled a fingertip around and around, just touching her nipple, he freed her other breast, bringing his mouth down to suckle.

Caitlin took in a breath and shivered. "Oh, Jeff, that feels soooo good," she hissed.

As he had done several times during the last week, he made love to her breasts, changing his technique from barely touching, to pulling on her nipple with fingers and mouth, then to pinching a little harder and dragging his teeth across the other nipple. When she had built almost to the point of release, Jeff concentrated with his mental push while consciously releasing his pheromones.

Caitlin went over with a gasp and a squeal, her body shaking as a powerful orgasm racked through her. While she was still coming down, he slid down in the bed, pushed her short skirt higher, grasped her panties and pulled them off. In short order, his tongue slid gently between the folds of her vulva, then on up to lightly circle her clitoris.

Without hesitation she went off again. Her new husband slid up, nestled the head of his cock at her entrance and paused, looking first at a gasping Caitlin, then at Joyce.

Joyce quickly slid down a little, turning to her side and placed a hand on Jeff's ass, smiling at her sister. "Make her yours," she hissed. "Just go easy and don't hurt her."

"The last thing I would ever do," Jeff said as he pushed firmly against Caitlin's pussy. There was resistance for a second, then the head stretched her lips and popped inside.

"Oh," Caitlin gasped, the pink flush on the visible part of her chest increasing. "I feel..."

Jeff pushed a little deeper, her tight sheath stretching to accept him.

Caitlin took a breath, "Oh, God, I'm hot. Push it. Push it. I want it inside me."

Jeff drew back a little, then pushed deeper, seating half his cock in her.

Joyce slid down farther in order to see their joining. "Oh, Caitlin, it looks so sexy going inside you."

"It feels..." Caitlin gasped out, then, "Push," she ordered Jeff. "I'm not a virgin; I won't break." But her order was quickly followed by a squeak as Jeff's cock pushed hard against her cervix.

The young nurse shivered, then locked her legs high around Jeff's hips. Her high-heel-clad feet crossed across his muscular ass. Straining, she gasped out, "I can't take it any deeper. It won't go."

"You're doing fine," Jeff said.

"He's almost all the way," Joyce said, stretching the point a little, wondering if either she or her sister-wife would be able to walk in the morning.

"Oh, shit," Caitlin gasped out as Jeff pulled back halfway and stroked, soon setting up a rhythm.

Joyce moved back up the bed, lying on her side to kiss Caitlin on the cheek. "That's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Oh, Baby, you look good with your legs locked around our husband. I'm so hot that I'm about to come just watching you."

By then, Caitlin was working on her third orgasm and it was debatable whether she understood her sister or not. Joyce just grinned and eased her face toward Caitlin's left breast, Jeff pushing a little higher on his arms to give her room.

Gently licking, then blowing on the moistened nipple, Joyce made love to Caitlin as Jeff continued a very slow stroking of his new wife's pussy.

"Oh, that feels good," Caitlin said, but Joyce didn't know whether her sister meant what she was doing to her nipple or what Jeff was doing to her pussy. Joyce finally decided it was both. Then, "Damn it, Husband, Fuck me. I'm going to go crazy if you..."

Jeff rammed forward, jarring into her cervix, then half-stroked her rapidly, starting the push with his mind again.

Caitlin tried to meet his thrusts, her leg muscles rippling as she raised her pussy, but the strongest orgasm yet hit. Gasping, she shivered, her sexy, high-heel clad feet thrashing. The orgasm went on and on, then just as it started to diminish it reversed and went higher yet.

Gasping, she stared at Jeff trying to tell him that she had never experienced an orgasm half as intense. But the orgasm wouldn't stop. Shivering and gasping for breath, she hung on as Jeff continued his relentless assault — his wonderful assault — on her pussy.

Joyce had long since stopped trying to nurse Caitlin's breast and had just lain there watching them. Without thought, she put her hand on Jeff's back as she watched the play of his muscles. It hit her like a brick. An orgasm that seemed all-consuming flooded through her. A wave of such intense pleasure that it was almost pain. It went on and on.

Suddenly Jeff was coming, Joyce felt the intense, hard spurts of his sperm laden semen splash against her cervix, or was it her sister's cervix? Felt warmth fill her pussy; felt a warmth deep inside her that had to be his semen seeping into her womb. Joyce saw her sister's legs fall away from Jeff's hips and her mouth go slack; felt...

Somewhere from far away, Joyce heard Jeff talking to someone. "Yeah, they're fine. It was really a twofer, though. I made love to Caitlin. Joyce started stroking my back while Caitlin was having an orgasm. Next thing I knew, both of them were out. Mission accomplished."

Then after a pause, "Yeah, we'll see you in the morning. I love you, and tell my other wives for me."

Joyce smiled as her breathing deepened and the fuzzy warmth of sleep overcame her.

-------

Much later. "Are you sure about this?" Jeff asked as he stood behind his two new wives as they knelt on the side of the bed on hands and knees. Two red and swollen pussies seemed to stare back at him, accusingly.

"We are not going in that kitchen until we have a fresh load of come to show our sister-wives," Joyce said, fighting a giggle.

"Can you come twice in a short period of time so we'll both have a good load to show them?" Caitlin asked, but barely got it out of her mouth before Joyce started laughing.

"You're asking him that?" Joyce said. "We changed the sheets and still had to put towels everywhere. He comes like a horse."

"And how would you know how a horse comes?" Caitlin asked looking over at her sister who had decided to lean forward with her upper body on the bed, her face turned to the side as she relaxed waiting for her husband to mount her.

"Well, I actually saw a horse breeding once. When that stallion pulled out of the mare, there was about a quart of come that ran out. That's what it looked like when our stallion pulled out of you," Joyce laughed.

"All right," Caitlin said, looking back over her shoulder at Jeff. "Please, just pump us full as quickly as you can. Which ever one you come in first, will hold her pussy closed to keep the come in until you're done with the other one. We want our sister-wives to know that we took care of our husband last night."

Knowing that the women were going to pay for it, and worrying, Jeff resigned himself to his fate and pushed into Caitlin.

"Fuck me, Baby. Fuck me," Caitlin squealed, pumping her pretty ass back at him.

Jeff tried to rush his peak as much as he could, but held back on the mental push, not wanting Caitlin to faint when he came in her. Shortly, she screamed and thrashed her ass as she felt the strong spurts of warmth fill her.

-------

A little later in the kitchen, Caitlin, nestled in her husband's arms, repeated the words that her Queen had said were tradition, and were certainly true this morning: "I'm full of come, but I'm broken," she got out past her giggles. Pulling her dress high, she spread her legs and pushed with her internal muscles. The distinctive "plop" of a big gob of Jeff's spend hitting the floor set off both laughter and "Ohooos," of sympathy for her swollen pussy.

Shortly, Joyce repeated the scene.

Diana and the other wives hugged the two additions, then startling them, Diana lifted Joyce's skirt and trailed a finger gently through come-wet pussy lips. Bringing the finger to her mouth, she licked it clean. Turning to a red-faced Caitlin, she repeated the gesture.

"Looks like you did well, My Love," Diana said to her husband. Then all business, "Let's get them into the hot tub. The others are already there."

Jeff sighed as he sat down hard in a chair, hoping someone would remember that he was in desperate need of nourishment.



-------

Chapter 6


The night before:

Bill and Kathy had just finished making love, and were lying on their sides facing each other as they lay on the bed. As Kathy stroked Bill's face, he smiled at her as she stared into his eyes.

"What?" he quietly laughed.

"Oh, I was just wondering," she mused, her voice barely audible to him.

"Wondering what?" he asked pulling a strand of hair away from her sweaty face.

"Oh, nothing. It's not important," she said touching his lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Now what's the matter?" There was a hesitation, then Bill continued, "We've agreed if anything is bothering us, we're going to talk it out. Now what's wrong?" he said, a sinking feeling in his gut.

Kathy put her face against his neck, snuggling into him. After a moment, "You thought of her tonight..."

"Kathy..."

"Oh, I don't know exactly when. But earlier tonight, you thought of her didn't you?"

"Kathy, I love you..."

Kathy pulled back so she could look him in the eye.

"Yes. I thought of her; wondered if she were all right, something ... I don't know what, made me think of her, think that ... I'm sorry, Baby. Please don't let..."

Kathy kissed him, then pulled back a little. "I'm not. I felt something too. That's why I asked. Somehow I, ah, thought of her myself and well, I sort of felt that she's in trouble. And somehow I ... knew that you did too. I don't know how, but maybe I can somehow feel some of the things you do, because, well, I know I wasn't guessing that you were thinking of her or the reason why."

"Baby, we're married now — you and I. I shouldn't be thinking of..."

"Hush. We're not just married; we're bonded. We've both changed and I, at least, knew what I was getting into. Ours isn't a legal marriage. You can't get legally married until after your divorce is final. Ours is something beyond that."

"Where is this going? We've discussed this yesterday. I'm not going back on my word. Surely, you know me better than that?"

"Yeah, I do. But..."

"Baby, what's wrong?" Bill whispered.

Kathy sighed, then after a moment, "It's about the changes in us. Why should we both have the same feeling at the same time about Jill? I'm not worried about her. I'm worried for her. Stop worrying about me; stop worrying about us. We're together now, and us together feels so right. But there is something else going on, and somehow it's about, well..."

"Baby, I'm yours now. I can't help what I feel, but I am yours."

Kathy touched her fingers to his mouth for a moment. "No, that's not what I want. I know that you're special..."

"Look, Baby, all that about Alphas is..."

"Hush. Don't say it. Remember the hunt for Jeff? We were both there, and I was with Jeff when we hid in that closet in the basement. The time before that, I was with them — you were there, too. They didn't hunt for him; they just went to where he was. His wives really know where he is all the time, and Evie says that she is beginning to be able to know where Dave is, too. Jeff's wives weren't faking, and I don't think Evie is either. I'm wondering when I'm going to start feeling where you are. Evie was happy as could be tonight with the others entering into their marriage..." she wound down thinking.

Kathy turned over onto her back, looking in the direction of the ceiling, but her eyes weren't focused on it. "Diana says that the Queen Bitch syndrome seems to begin when the Alpha calls another wife, or maybe even when the Queen decides to add to the marriage."

"Uh, Baby, I'm totally satisfied with you. You're all the woman I can handle."

"We made love only twice during the week while we were gone, Bill." When he started to say something, she hushed him. "I know. Believe me, I was as tired as you were after all that flying. But I think some of it was you felt a little guilty, didn't you?"

"Kathy, that's absurd. I had committed to you, and you know it."

"Well, maybe it is, but we're relaxed now, and you just made tender love to me. You ate me to a great climax, and then you loved me with that great cock of yours, but I still feel like..."

"Baby, I'm forty-four years old. I'm not..."

"Bullshit, Bill. Dave just went in the suite next door with three women."

"And how do you know that?" he teased. "We came in here before they went in their suite."

"Oh, I know that, silly, but he did; they were right behind us, and Evie has told all of us that he won't have any trouble having sex with all of them. As a matter of fact, she's insisted that he can fuck her to death, and probably will all three of them. Obviously, Jeff doesn't have any problem with the seven he's had. I told you about hearing the girls teasing each other about walking 'funny.' And with whatever Jeff has done to us..."

"Baby, where is all this heading?"

Kathy hesitated for a moment, her brow wrinkling. "I don't know. I'm thinking out loud, I guess. I wasn't sure before about things that Diana said would happen to me, but now I am. And this isn't one of those. I don't feel anything like what Evie said she felt about Linda or Kim. But I don't feel threatened by Jill, either. I'm worried about her, because, well, I sort of feel that's she's terrified, and not just for herself. It almost felt like I, well, felt her terror and more. It's almost like regret and maybe guilt."

"Baby, I..."

Kathy turned slightly back toward her new husband and hushed him with a finger to his lips. "But more than that, Honey. I felt that you felt the same thing; that somehow you were feeling what she felt. Diana never mentioned anything like that. That I'd feel what you feel, sure, she told me about Jeff and the bear. But she never said anything about her feeling what Jeff was feeling from someone else. When Joyce was shot, she knew that Jeff was almighty upset, but she learned it was about Joyce because Jeff told, not because she felt Joyce herself.

After a moment, Kathy continued, "Somehow, I'm feeling what you are feeling from Jill, not about Jill, but from Jill. And that I don't understand, well, I don't understand why. There are lots of things going on that I don't understand, but I can accept that they're happening. Do you remember that really strange, well, different, anyway tone of voice from Frank when he blessed Caitlin and Joyce at the wedding? Maybe this is something like that. But, I do think that you're still worried, or upset, or something — about Jill — maybe I am, too."

"Baby, I'm not..."

"Then fuck me. You made love to me; now fuck me. We're supposed to meet at the hot tub in the morning — us wives. I don't want to be the only one there with a pussy that's not even swollen. Your daughter is going to be there in the morning and I will be amazed if she isn't wrecked."

Suddenly sliding down in the bed, she straddled his legs. Grasping his cock, she lowered her mouth to it and sucked.

"Kathy," he hissed. He was going to protest that he was wet from their combined spend, but it was too late for a warning.

When his cock was standing tall, Kathy popped her mouth off to look at him with a devilish grin. Quickly turning around, she came to all fours. Looking back over her shoulder, "Mount up; the night is young."

-------

Dave finally had all three of his women in the bedroom, but they didn't stay in the bed where he put them. "Our dresses are a little more elaborate than the Matthews' are. So we need to get them off and hang them up. Besides," Evie quipped, "this might not be the last marriage and we want to keep the dresses pristine."

Dave hesitated as he started to run the zipper down Linda's back. "Very funny, my little doll..."

"Queen," Evie interjected.

"Uh, Queen," he said looking at her as he pushed the zipper the rest of the way down its track.

Evie just stared at him with her best innocent look as Kim turned her back to Dave, and he slid that zipper down as well.

"Now, me, Baby," Evie said turning her back to him. When he had the zipper down, she turned to face him, "Now scat for a few minutes. We'll call you when we're ready."

Dave went back into the sitting room, leaving the door slightly ajar so he could hear Evie's call. Slipping off all but pants and tee-shirt, he sat on the couch and fretted.

Oh, crap. Evie said that I was to carry Kim in first — did that. But I'm to make love to Linda first. I'm going to screw this up. Hell, I was all thumbs trying to pull those zippers down. Why didn't they do it for each other? Oh, I guess it must be some type of symbology or something. Uh, I did that for Evie when we got married the first time,  he remembered.

Eyeing the bottle of expensive wine in the ice bucket, he almost reached for it. No. You don't drink, you idiot, at least not enough to notice. I know that I'm going to screw up in there, but at least I'll do it sober. What are they doing in there? They're... 

"Come in," three voices said in unison — perfect unison. Practiced unison,  he thought.

He got up and walked to the door, pushing it slowly open. The lights had been turned down, slightly, but although there was still plenty of light to see by, it just wasn't glaring, anymore. He stopped in mid stride. Well, she could always surprise me; now this.

All three women were nude. Kimberly, her midnight black hair covering the pillow, lay on her left side. Her head was on her arm looking at him for the present, but it was obvious that the pose — for that is what it was — was meant to position her so that she could watch Linda as she made love.

His blond pixy Queen sat to Kimberly's left, a pillow behind her with her back against the head of the bed and her legs curled up. Linda lay on her back with her dark blond head in Evie's lap.

Evie spoke up. "They're both virgins, My Love. They wanted me to be part of this, and I will be..."

"All of us talked about the Queens — the Matthews and us. Evie says that she can feel it, and we believe her," Linda said.

"We want her to be as much a part of this as she can be. She's our Queen," Kim said, her voice full of emotion.

"So, I'm supposed to make love to Linda first?" Dave said.

"Yes," they unisoned again.

Dave stood looking at his three wives for a moment, the two girls blushing from being nude in front of him; Evie smiling from ear to ear.

"Okay," he finally answered simply. Quickly, he dropped the rest of his clothes, then made his way between Kim and Linda, forcing Kim to roll to her back to give him room.

"You're beautiful," he told a confused Kim — and kissed her. At first, she tried to talk into his mouth telling him he was supposed to make love to Linda, but he increased the pressure of his kiss, losing himself, and her. After the kiss, he touched his lips to her eyes, then her ear, drawing gasps from her. Trailing down her throat, he kissed his way to her breasts.

Tonguing first one nipple, then the other, he suckled her, eventually going back to her mouth after a prolonged time, feeling Evie's hand gently stroking his arm.

"I'll be back," he said, again kissing Kim's eyes, then turning to Linda.

"Hi, Baby."

"Hey," she answered suppressing a giggle.

"You ready for this?" he grinned down at her.

"You bet. If I were any more ready, I would explode."

Leaning over her, his lips almost touching, "Oh, I think I can get you more ready," he said, just touching his lips to hers. Kissing around her mouth, feather-light, he kissed her lips for a second, then moved on.

Abruptly, he moved his lips down her body, just touching, heading straight for her sex, then stopped when he got to the bow. Taking it in his teeth, he gently lifted it, its glue bond parting easily.

He could smell her — similar to Evie's smell, yet subtly different. He had teased her enough. Dropping the bow off the side of the bed, he gently licked up through her folds, stopping just short of her clitoris. Sliding down a little further, he settled in for the duration, but knowing that his neck would be tired soon at this angle, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders and rolled her bottom up a little.

If Linda even noticed, she didn't comment, for her first orgasm hit soon after he started, even before he tongued her clit. He backed away slightly, continuing to slowly lick, until she came down, then increased the pressure of his tongue, this time including her clit at the top of his stroke.

She arched her back up, clamped her legs together, and told the world she was having a good time.

This time as he focused on her while she was coming down, her pussy lips standing open from his licking and the pressure of his hands, he could just make out her hymen peeking back at him.

Dave looked up to catch Evie's eye. "Now," she mouthed to him. "Now."

As Dave slid forward positioning himself above his new bride and reached down to guide himself, Linda gasped out, "No. I want Evie to do it. Let her position your cock for me."

He didn't know whether they had talked about this or not, but he waited staring at Evie, remembering what Jeff had told him about letting the women run some things about sex. "Sometimes, you are in command — sometimes, the women. If it's something about the marriage, best to let them run things. You will always come out ahead," he had said. Dave held himself near Linda's entrance while Evie squirmed around, took his cock in her hand and lined him up.

While she was holding him, he eased forward until he was seated in Linda's opening, then paused again as Evie resumed her position with Linda's head in her lap and Evie once more sitting partway up.

"It's going to hurt a little, Baby," Dave warned, staring his new bride in the eye.

"I know. It's part of becoming a woman — part of becoming your wife," she said rising up a little to kiss him. Just as their lips parted, he lunged his hips forward. Her hymen broke.

Linda let out a little yelp; her body tensing and her face scrunching up. Dave just held still, the head of his cock just past the remains of her hymen. Kissing the sudden beads of sweat off her face, he asked, "All right?"

"Mmmm hummm," she said, nodding her head a couple of times, her eyes squinched tight.

"Kiss her, Dave," Evie said as Kim looked on, her eyes glued to Dave's cock as it nestled in Linda's folds, her own breathing mimicking Linda's.

Soon after Dave started kissing her, Linda responded, then breaking the kiss, "Sorry. I guess it hurt a little more than I expected. But the pain is almost gone now..."

Dave took his cue and pushed a little more, then pulled back, repeating the cycle. Linda tensed to begin with, the raw feeling of her torn hymen returning, but soon the pain was replaced by the feeling of being stuffed full of his wonderful cock.

"Hold yourself up a little and let me see," she whispered to him.

Dave pushed higher on his arms and Linda managed to look between her breasts to see their joining. "Oh, my goodness. That looks so sexy." Lying back on Evie's lap, she continued, "Evie, I feel so full," she gasped as he pushed back in. Then on the next, ever-deepening stroke, he touched her cervix.

"Yeah, he does that," Evie said, love obvious in her voice.

"Oh," Linda gasped as Dave's cock bumped her cervix again, then, "Oh ... oh ... oh," in time with his strokes, a look of amazement on her face.

Kim, lying on her side and watching, but having remained quiet, spoke up. "Does he hit your cervix like Evie said?" she gasped out, masterfully refraining from putting her hand between her legs.

"Uh, oh ... huh," Linda gasped out between a nudges of her cervix by the head of Dave's cock.

Dave increased the pressure on the inward cycle a little.

"Oh. That feels so good ... I think, I'm going to..."

She didn't finish her sentence for she had come face to face with her first ever, total vaginal climax. It built and built. Dave released his pheromones as Jeff had told him too, then let his own climax overwhelm him, his cock spurting over and over. Linda arched her body up in response to the pheromones, her legs wrapping around Dave's hips, astonishing him by levering herself up and raising his body a little too. She held for long moments, her inner muscles having clamped down. He wasn't sure if he could have moved himself inside her — certainly not without doing damage to her, or maybe to both of them.

Linda trembled, feeling the warmth of his spend inside her. Wiggling her pussy on him, she let out a strangled cry and collapsed.

Evie, who had sat with Linda's head in her lap stroking her hair, was now slumped back against the pillow with a silly little grin on her face, not out, but not altogether there, either.

Kim, who had lain on her side watching, close, but not touching, grinned at Dave. "Wow," she mouthed, hardly making any sound.

As Dave started to withdraw, Kim, suddenly remembering what Evie had told her she would need to do for her sister-wife, hastily said, "Uh, hold it. Let me get something."

Rushing from the bed, she entered the vanity area, wet a washcloth and grabbed a hand towel. Hurrying back to the bed, her breasts bouncing nicely, she knelt by her husband and sister-wife. "Oh," she said as she reached for him, then just short of touching him, froze.

"I'm your husband, now, Baby. It's alright if you touch it."

Blushing furiously, Kim put the washcloth around Dave's cock as he pulled out and sat back. Wiping him clean, she sat fascinated looking at him.

Clearing his throat, Dave got her attention. "Looks like Linda needs a little help there," he nodded, looking at her drooling pussy.

"Oh, my," Kim said, grabbing the towel, but stopping a short distance from Linda's pussy. "I've never touched a girl there, before..."

"She's your sister-wife and she needs a little help," Dave repeated.

Looking at Dave for a second, she reached out and tenderly wiped away the come and the blood streaks.

Evie sat stroking Linda's hair and whispering to her. As his new wife began waking up, Dave brought another damp washcloth and a glass of water to the bed. As he gave the cloth to Evie to wipe Linda's sweaty face, she suddenly sat up and threw her arms around Dave, splashing the water. He laughed and held the glass out of the way, circling an arm around Linda as she cried and told him how much she loved him, hanging on.

Evie took the glass from his hand, overjoyed herself that things had gone so well. It wasn't hard to tell that Linda thought so as she tried to burrow into Dave. When their lips met, Linda made a sound deep in her throat — almost a purr.

"I love you, too, my wife," Dave said quietly after breaking the kiss, cradling her in his arms.

Then suddenly, "Oh, I'm being selfish, It's Kim's turn," Linda said, turning toward her sister-wife and extending a hand to touch her.

The girls quickly changed their original places with Linda lying on her side to watch after she had drunk the glass empty. After quickly placing the glass on the bedside table, she smiled at Kim and said, "It's thirsty work."

Kim grinned at Linda and moved into place with her head in Evie's lap.

Before Dave could say anything, Evie said, "Kim wanted me to do this, too — to hold them while you made love the first time."

Dave, who had moved between Kim's spread legs, reached up and pulled Evie forward as he rose up a little, kissing her above Kim. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you, too," Evie told her mate. "Now make this one a woman, too," she teased.

Evie wanted to ask Kim how her headache was, or even if she had one, but knew it would sound odd under the circumstances. Sighing inwardly, a smile on her face, she held her thoughts to herself, but worried.

Dave started, more or less, the same way he had with Linda, kissing Kim and telling her how much he loved her.

"There's something that I should tell you," Kim said as Dave pulled back a little to look at her. "I, uh ... well, I had decided to break my hymen after one of the girls at school said how much it hurt her when she and her boyfriend..."

"That's fine, Baby. Not having a hymen will make it easier on you..."

" ... But things didn't work out the way I expected," Kim continued. "I tried pushing my vibrator into me, but it wouldn't go, and it hurt. I tried the handle of a hairbrush a couple of days later and I pushed hard enough to leave a speck of blood on the handle, but my hymen didn't break, and it hurt like blazes. I've used Tampons for years, and they go through. But, well ... it's still there."

Evie tried to laugh to ease Kim's mind. "Well, I doubt if it will be like Ann's. She likes to say that she had an armor-plated hymen. I doubt if yours will be as bad as hers was."

"Mom said that her first time was a nightmare. That's the main reason I decided to break my own, I guess."

"We'll let the master take care of it. He didn't seem to have any problem with Linda's," Evie said, trying to keep the conversation light.

"It hurt, but it got a lot better when he pushed that big cock up me. I forgot all about the pain. It really wasn't very much, anyway," Linda finished, lying through her teeth trying to calm Kim.

Now I've become the "master" even if she were joking. Evie and Linda hardly make me a master at hymen removal. But Evie is worried. Strange. I wonder why,  Dave thought as he resumed kissing and fondling Kim.

She really liked to have her breasts touched, her nipples pulled on, and she had an orgasm — although a light one — when he sucked her. Eventually, he had his head between her legs and the pretty little bow gone. He licked around her swollen lips, teasing her, before he lightly licked from bottom to top. Gradually increasing the pressure with his tongue, he parted first the outer, then later the inner lips, adding an occasional teasing touch of his tongue tip to her clit.

Incensed, and nearing a big orgasm, Kim grabbed his head and lifted her pussy toward him, tensing. "Oh, yessss," she screamed as she went over.

As she came down, Dave spread her lips with his fingers, then gently probed deeper. He felt her hymen, but couldn't see it because he hadn't rolled her hips back by putting her legs on his shoulders the way he had Linda.

"Now, Dave," Evie said, although he was already positioning himself.

Evie grabbed his cock and held it to Kim's entrance as he pushed the head against her hole. When Evie was back in position, he kissed Kim and humped forward hard.

His cock broke through, but the head stung from the abuse. Kim yelled into his mouth and tightened up, her whole body going rigid. He waited.

"Easy, Baby. The pain will be gone in a minute," Evie tried to say with as much nonchalance as she could muster, but she didn't fool anyone; although, no one knew the reason there was so much tension in her voice.

Dave looked a question at his Queen, suspecting that something was going on that he wasn't privy to. She shook her head slightly back at him.

"Make love to her. She's a woman now," his Queen Bitch said, her voice soft as she reached out to touch her husband's face. "Make the pain go away."

It took him five minutes — five minutes when he wondered if Kim would ever get over the pain, but she did. And when she did, she came big-time, her hips pumping to meet his every thrust, orgasms coming one upon the other until she was gasping for breath.

"Do it," Evie said, really worried.

Only then did Dave realize that he had already sent out his pheromones. He did it again, his come following in spurt after spurt.

Kim shivered when she felt his come flood her, thinking about babies, swollen bellies and nursing. Her legs locked around his hips trying to pull him still deeper, feeling his wonderful cock as it abused her cervix. The world grayed out and she relaxed back onto Evie, a smile on her face as the world faded away.

-------

Jill woke up Saturday morning, warm, covers tucked to her chin. As her mind slowly began to function, she could only remember telling someone over and over, "No doctor. No doctor. Don't carry me to a doctor. Promise me!" Then again, maybe it was a dream like Ingles.

"I thought it was about time for you to wake up again," someone said.

Turning her head, Jill managed to bring the woman's face into focus.

"Sweetie, I've got some coffee here for you. Then we need to get some light food into you. Maybe a little chicken broth to start with. That sound good?"

"Bathroom," Jill mumbled, wondering if she could hold it until then.

"Sure, Sweetie," the woman said pulling the covers back.

Jill discovered that she was no longer wearing jeans and the tight tee-shirt. "I put that gown on you. Thought you would be more comfortable. Hope I didn't embarrass you. If so, no need. I've taken care of sick folks before. Now let's get you up and to the bathroom."

Somewhere along the line, Jill remembered that the woman was the preacher's wife, but she couldn't remember her name; although, she thought she remembered the preacher introducing her.

A little later as Megan helped her back to bed. "Do you remember waking up last night after you got here?"

"Uh, vaguely," Jill said, then "Oh," as the memories came rushing back.

"What you told us is the only reason we didn't take you to the emergency room. You kept saying that you didn't want a doctor, and you were almost frantic with it. That's when you told us what had been going on in your life."

"Uh, gosh, maybe I was delirious," Jill hedged, a sense of panic creeping up on her as she remembered some of the conversation.

Megan arranged pillows so Jill could sit up some instead of lying completely flat in the bed. "So, are you going to lie to me and say that what you told us last night isn't true?" the preacher's wife asked as she covered Jill to her waist with a sheet and a light blanket.

Jill hesitated, tears flooding her eyes as she looked away for a moment, absently twisting the blanket in her hands. I don't want to lie to these people; they've been too nice to me. I must have really been out of it to blurt everything out like that. Then, "Uh, no I told you the truth. I'm just scared to death that he'll get me back. I would have killed myself that last night if I could have. After his drugs and hypnosis began wearing off, what was happening was real then — not the dream that everything seemed before.

"Well, Luther almost called the cops, anyway, but when you became hysterical, he backed down. Still, it seems like we need to do something about this ... doctor, what's-his-face?"

"Ingles," Jill supplied. "If you call the cops, he'll get me back. He almost lost his license when my husband had him investigated, but Ingles knows some people. He also did a lot of ranting about how much money it had cost him to make things go away. He still made some kind of deal with the board. I think that's why he went back to North Dakota where he used to live. He has a house there."

"Sweetie," Megan said as she sat on the bed beside Jill, "we need to talk. This evil man is not going to get you back. You can trust me on that. My husband and I believe you. We'll do everything we can to take care of you. So you just rest easy on that part."

"Thank you," Jill whispered.

"Oliver discovered that your radiator hose wasn't the only devilment that piece of metal got up to when it went under your car. He found a big dent in your oil pan, and a pinhole."

At Jill's blank look, Megan grinned. "Don't know much about motors do you. Well, me either, but my husband has rebuilt a couple over the years. The oil pan is an oil reservoir that pretty much covers the bottom of the motor."

"But it has a hole in it?" Jill said, worried.

Megan hastened to assure her. "It's just a tiny hole, but Oliver says it's got to be fixed or all your oil will leak out and ruin the motor. He towed your car to his garage. He's going to take the oil pan off and weld the hole closed. He says it will be good as new, but he might have to get a gasket sent from the dealer. He says that since your car is so new, he might be able to use the gasket again — if that makes any sense. Anyway, if the gasket breaks when he drops the oil pan, he'll have to order a new one from the dealer. It might be Monday before you're rolling again if he does, but he wanted to let you know that your car will be as good as new when he's done with it. Now, he does good work, so don't you worry."

"But ... you know I don't have any money..."

"Now, who said anything about money? We've got that taken care of. You're not in any shape to drive, anyway. Lord knows how you made it this far. When's the last time you've eaten, well, other than the little broth I got down you last night?"

Jill couldn't remember eating anything before Ingles had taken her to meet her "client" night before last. She had eaten a few bites before he demanded his blow-job this morning.

"Un, I'm not sure. We got up really early this morning, before daylight. Ingles was going somewhere. I started to eat breakfast, but he demanded..." The tears started again, but she squinched her eyes closed to stop them. "Sometimes he forgot to tell me to eat."

"That's about what I figured. That sorry bas ... Uh, from the looks of you, you've missed quite a few meals lately. Maybe those drugs killed your hunger, or like you say, maybe he didn't bother to tell you to eat, since you couldn't do anything unless he told you to."

Jill just sat there staring at her shaking hands.

"Just you relax. I'll be right back with a little more of that broth. If that stays down, we'll try some tomato soup. We need to get several meals in you before you get under that wheel again. Meantime, you need to talk to us about where you're going and why. Might be that we can help with that, too."



-------

Chapter 7

Luther walked up on the back porch and into the kitchen, "I was beginning to worry about you," Megan said.

"Well, as late as I left, plus the hour's drive to the store before I could even start the stocking shift..."

"You must be tired. Sit, I'll have your breakfast in a jiffy. Then you can get some rest. Other than preaching tomorrow, you don't have to be back until Monday night, do you?"

"No, that's it," he answered before kissing his wife. "Have you talked to Oliver about our little waif's car?" he asked when they parted.

Megan turned to the stove to check his biscuits. "Yeah, he called about twenty minutes ago. The pan came off without damaging the gasket. He said that he sent it over to the welding shop."

"I thought he was going to weld it himself. He's got a rig."

"He didn't say why; just said that he did, and says the car will be ready in a couple of hours. Probably long before our guest will be ready. She's weak."

"Probably worried that he'll make the hole worse instead of better," Luther laughed. After washing his hands at the sink, he sat at the table watching his wife scramble three eggs in a bowl before pouring them into a skillet.

"She still asleep?"

"She got up and went to the bathroom. We talked for awhile until she started getting sleepy again. I promised that I would wake her when her car was ready, but like I said, she's weak."

"You think she needs to stay with us for a couple days to get stronger, then?"

"Yeah, I do, but she's adamant to go," Megan answered as she stirred the eggs as they cooked, while keeping watch on the sausage.

Taking a plate from the cupboard, she transferred the eggs from the skillet, then added the sausage. Putting the laden plate on the table, she got another plate and filled it with biscuits straight from the oven, placing it within easy reach of her husband. Sliding the French butter keeper nearer, she upended the keeper to expose the room temperature butter from its water bath. Then getting a jar of marmalade from the refrigerator, she put that on the table, poured herself a cup of coffee and sat with her husband. He bowed his head for a few seconds to give private thanks for the meal.

"I assume, since it's as late as it is, that you've already eaten," he said, buttering a biscuit, knowing that she would have because of her diabetes.

"Yeah, I did." There was a pause, then, "I just worry about your having to drive so far to work."

"Lord's been good to us. At least I still have a job. There aren't many around, especially in this little town, and with the economy..." He left the obvious unsaid.

"The hose was forty-seven dollars and change on that new, expensive car of hers. Oliver is going to charge us twenty to put it on, plus the cost of the antifreeze and oil. He said he told the guy at the welding shop the circumstances and he's going to weld the oil pan for free, but Oliver had to clean the pan first. When I asked what he was charging us to take the pan off, clean it and reinstall it, he just said that we would discuss it later."

There was quiet in the little kitchen for a time as both people sat and thought, Luther absently eating, then, Megan spoke, "As soon as I've cleaned up here, I'm going down to the church and get her a couple of changes of clothes from our storm closet." (The church gathered clothes and other items to send to hurricane and tornado victims.) "I talked her into giving me her sizes. I'll stop by the clothing store and pick up a bra for her, plus a couple pairs of panties. I'm sure that we have some used jeans and tops at the church that will fit her so she won't have to wear that skin-tight outfit."

"Well, she does have..." he started, but didn't know how to finish without getting into trouble with his wife.

"Yeah, 'she does, ' doesn't she?" his wife said, a tinkle in her voice. "I honestly started to call you to help me change her clothes when she was out, using it as an excuse so you would have a chance to see her exquisite body..."

"Megan," he scolded.

"Oh, I wouldn't have done it. But with her even lying on her back, that woman has the most gorgeous set of breasts I could ever imagine, and they just go with that beautiful face of hers. She's ... I don't know. Beautiful doesn't even start to do her justice."

"That beauty got her into trouble," Luther said. "And I'm glad you didn't call me to come look. You're plenty pretty enough for me — for any man," he amended.

"Oh, I was decent before I gained weight," Megan said reaching over to briefly squeeze his hand. "But if you had seen her, you would have had something to think about every time you made love to me."

"Megan, I don't need..."

"Hush, I'm just teasing you; well sorta," she amended. "The woman is gorgeous, but she's been through a lot. We had a long talk while I was waiting for you to get home."

"Do you mean there was more that ... uh, person did to her?"

"Yeah, and she told me about her husband and daughter — well, ex-husband. That ... doctor made her divorce him. She says that the last year or so is like a dream faintly remembered. She says that the doctor bragged about drugging her and hypnotizing her on her first visit to his office. He even made her talk dirty to him on the phone, knowing that her child was listening. Oh, Honey, he's truly evil. How could someone do that to her — to anyone for that matter?"

"Well," Luther said as he paused in his eating to think, "you've probably hit the nail on the head. There are some people in this world that are truly evil. We read about them on the net all the time, see them on the news — the Bible had many, as well. There is more evil in this world all the time. Nothing we can do about it out here in our little part of the world. But we can pray for her, get her some clothes, fix her car and get her on her way."

"She's going to have to have money. I guess I don't have to ask how much money is in the church treasury?"

The preacher let out a quiet laugh. "Almost enough to pay the bills this month," he said. "No jobs; no money; no tithe. People have to feed themselves first, no matter what the Bible says. They give all they can."

"We're lucky. Our house, such as it is, is paid off. Used cars get us back and forth — well with you and Oliver rebuilding the motor in the car."

"Honey, no use..."

"I'm not being depressed. Just facing reality. That vacation we've planned is just wistful thinking. You should never have stopped in this town all those years ago, and swept this little gal off her feet. That 'little gal' has gained about fifty pounds over the years, but she still loves you. And we're never going to be able to save up for a vacation. Last time it was the storm damage to those houses over on Smith Hill; this time, it's that little girl lying in our bed in there."

"She won't need much, Honey. She's headed for Denver," the preacher said.

"She's actually going to Winter Park — a couple of hours from Denver. To some type of conference center owned by Wainwright, Inc. This doctor bragged that he was going to get her daughter and do the same thing to her that he did to Jill. He claims that her child is living there. Her husband flies for the owner of the company."

"Well, wouldn't it be easier for her to simply call her husband at the company he works for?"

"She repeatedly tried her husband's cell and her daughter's as well. But she's given up on trying her husband's phone. She's scared that with the nasty divorce and all he won't talk to her — thinks he must have gotten another phone. She lost custody of her child; gave her daughter up with this Ingles controlling her. She's also afraid that the doctor will be waiting for her, or will find out where she's calling from and come get her. Oh, Baby, she's afraid of this guy — I mean really, really afraid. She thinks she's dying and wants to see her baby and her husband at a place where this Ingles can't get to her, so she can tell them what happened. She sees herself as soiled goods. She isn't expecting her husband to take her back; she just wants to tell her family what happened. She doesn't have any plans after that."

"So, how much money does she need to get there?"

"And..." Megan continued, "What's she going to do if they don't take her in. Remember, it was a nasty divorce. Ingles used her as a whore. We're going to have to give her more than enough to just get her there."

Seeing his grin, she continued, "You're teasing me. You well know that we would never give her just enough. I've got Tess going over to Wal-Mart to pick up one of those cell phones where you just pay for the minutes. But we need to decide how much money to give Jill? How much do you think?"

"Baby, you decide that. You know with the economy and everything, we'll never be able to replace it. This will kill any hopes of a vacation to anywhere — anytime. We've been trying to save up for years, and we're losing ground. We had almost two thousand saved before the storm hit Smith Hill."

"Five hundred?"

"Yeah. And that will leave us how much in the kitty?"

"About three fifty or a little more." Looking at her husband with love, she added, "When you stopped here to eat, you had big plans. Those plans changed to marrying me, and living here to be a big rancher. Over the years, all that turned into a preacher for a little church that can barely support itself, and whose preacher has to stock a grocery store at night to make ends meet."

"But you wanted kids — kids that the Good Lord didn't see fit to send us."

"Kids that we don't have to feed right now," she said standing to clean up the kitchen. "Go grab a nap in the guest room. Maybe it wasn't the best idea I've ever had putting her in our bed, but it was the nearest room."

"No matter," he said getting up. "As tired as I am right now, I'll never know the difference two minutes after my head hits the pillow."

"Close the door. I'm not going to tell her that I'm leaving her alone with a man in the house. As they say, she's a mite gun-shy about men right now. Can't blame her, but she's asleep and won't know about your being here, anyway. It should only take about an hour to pick up the things she'll need."

"I won't bother her if she won't bother me," Luther said stumbling toward the bed, his belly full.

-------

Wainwright mock staggered into the kitchen, grabbed his chest and fell into a chair. "Feed me. Feed me," he cried. "It's almost high noon and I'm famished." Leaning toward a grinning Jeff, Frank quietly continued, "Not to mention that I've been fucked within an inch of my life."

"You," Jeff snorted, having heard this before. "I don't doubt that Margaret..."

After quickly looking over his shoulder to make sure the women were far enough away, Frank leaned over toward Jeff, "I'm telling you that you have no idea how horny weddings make her. I haven't the foggiest notion how many times we fucked last night, but I can tell you the one thing we didn't do much of, and that was sleep."

Jeff looked hard at his friend, and in a normal voice. "You do look a little peaked this morning. But is eight-fifteen high noon?" he laughed.

"Well, around here it is. Crap, Diana calls six o'clock sleeping in."

"Oh, you aren't impressing anyone. You're at work by seven in the morning. But did that lady of yours really get that excited over the marriages?"

"Well, I..."

"Are you guys through with your secrets this morning?" Laura said as she put a large platter of scrambled eggs on the table in front of the two men. "And where are Bill and Dave?" she asked.

"Oh, they're crawling along behind me, clinging to the walls for support..."

The kitchen door burst open and both men came through laughing at something one of them had said, both obviously exuberant.

"Clinging to the walls, huh?" Laura said winking at Ann who had just put a platter of bacon on the table. Laughing, they went back for more food as the men dug in.

-------

Later in the morning, Dave found Jeff momentarily sitting alone in the living room. From the look on Dave's face, Jeff knew. "Evie told you?"

"Yeah," Dave said collapsing into a seat near his buddy. "My first inclination was to have a fit that you didn't tell me, but hell, when I got through ranting, and Evie got done chewing my ass, well ... Thanks, Jeff. But my God, she has a tumor in her brain. We've got to get the healer back with her right away."

"And that's where the problem is. How do I use the healer on her without her knowing about it? I can't do it while she's up, obviously. Then tonight, well, just when do I come into your bedroom? It's not as if you're going to be in there sleeping, at least not in the beginning."

Dave looked over at his friend, "Diana and my wife ... uh, my first wife ... uh, my Queen ... How in the hell do you keep all those women of yours straight?" he said, frustrated. "Anyway, Evie and Diana have it figured out. Evie will call when the girls are asleep. You can come in and do it then."

"That'll work. As long as they don't see me open the door, Little One will put them out. You and Evie, also, at a guess."

Both sat quietly for several minutes, then, "Can she really fix Kim? I mean, Evie is scared. Oh, she's trying to project a positive attitude in front of the girls, hell, even in front of just me, but she's scared, too."

"I think she can but I can't tell you why? Is she complaining of headaches?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah, she took a pain pill that the doctor prescribed for her, but she claims the headache isn't as bad as it has been. She fessed up about how bad they had been and told us about her appointment next week. Evie played it down, and Kim seemed to want to go along with it. I just hope the hell..."

"Little One will fix her. I'll be waiting for Evie's call tonight." Jeff sat for a moment, thinking.

Dave noticed the look on Jeff's face. "What?"

"Something came together in my mind. I couldn't seem to understand what Little One was sending me. I just realized what it must be. I think she left a miniscule part of herself in Kim when she treated her. That small part traveled into her brain — into the tumor and stayed with her."

Dave just stared at Jeff.

-------

Fred hung the phone up and turned to Carla and Jessica. "That was Mark, the friend of mine..."

"Did he get our stuff?" Jessica interrupted.

"Yeah, FedEx delivered it a few minutes ago. I was beginning to worry that our things wouldn't get there before we did. He even took everything out of the boxes and packed our things in the PT Cruiser."

"Did you manage to tell Jeff that the Thompsons were going to give us a ride to the airport?"

"Yeah, and he wasn't pleased. I managed to convince him when I told him his two new wives probably wouldn't be impressed with a trip to Denver on the morning after their wedding."

"I can just imagine," Carla chuckled.

"You bet," Jessica said grabbing Fred and kissing him. "If we ever get this big lug to marry us, he's darn sure not going anywhere the next morning."

"Probably won't be able to," Carla said, taking her place to be kissed. "Not after my brat gets through with you," she finished, pulling Fred's head down so she could plaster her mouth to his.

"Mother," Jessica said, drawing out the word.

"Hey, you two, I'm right here you know," Fred said trying to be stern, but losing it to laughter.

"We're not going to be gone too long, are we?" Carla said looking around the room worried about leaving.

"So what are you worried about?" Fred said, knowing.

"It's just ... oh, heck, I don't know. You just never leave a farm. There's always something to do seven days a week."

"The crops are all in, the fences are in pretty good shape, and the only stock you have right now is your two riding horses," Fred said, watching her look around her to make sure everything was in order. "And you know that those two horses will be babied by the Thompsons."

"Oh, Momma," Jessica said putting her hands on her hips and staring at her parent. "The barn is complete and they're halfway done on the riding stables. The Thompsons are going to take care of our horses and look after the place. And you know they will. Now what are you worried about?"

"Oh, I know. It's just that..."

Fred interrupted her by kissing her. "You haven't been away for so long that you worry. Understandable. But tonight we'll be sitting in our new RV. It isn't the most expensive one they had, but Brenda and I sold our house, plus I got a big chunk of money out of the insurance companies for finding their stolen merchandise after everyone else failed. We were going to travel around for a while, then probably buy us a place in Florida and retire for good."

Fred had already told them this more than once, in one way or another, but needed to say it again. "Brenda would have wanted this — what we're doing," he said, fighting the stinging in his eyes and thinking, I know damn well that's what Brenda wants, for she told me so.

Fred suddenly grabbed Carla and really kissed her, trying to get her mind off leaving. When they broke the kiss, she hugged him, her head on his chest as they now stood in the kitchen. "We're going to enjoy this. You are going to enjoy this. Just wait until you see the RV."

"Huump," she groused, but her grin threatened. "Giving up a perfectly good house, a little old I'll agree, but big, to ride around in an RV."

"It's just for a few weeks until we get tired of driving around," Fred returned.

Before anyone could answer, they all heard a horn blow. Looking out the window, Jessica said, "They just topped the hill."

The three were waiting on the front porch when the Thompsons pulled up in their new black SUV. They walked into the yard to meet the couple as they got out of their vehicle, Fred pausing to lock the house door.

"Wow, that looks nice," Carla said nodding to the SUV as Jody approached.

"Well," the older woman replied, "Ed said we were getting too old to save the money, and I guess we've never really had a new vehicle, so we bought this."

After the greetings were over, Ed asked, "Where's your luggage? Is that all you have?" he said pointing to the computer case as Fred slipped the case strap over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Fred answered. "Since it's going to be an extended stay, we shipped our luggage on to Mark. Things don't get lost that way, and we were way over the weight limit, anyway."

They were soon headed to the airport.

-------

Oliver drove up in Jill's car. A moment later, he walked up on the back porch as Megan stood holding the door open for him. "Come on in and have a cup of coffee?"

"Don't mind if I do," the mechanic said, "if you'll forgive me my dirty clothes."

As Megan ushered him to the table in the kitchen, she replied, "Well, they might be a little dirty, but you're still welcome in this house anytime, and you know it."

"Remind me to get my cloth that I used to protect the seat out of her car when we leave."

Megan put cups on the table and poured coffee for both of them, then took an apple coffee cake out. Cutting a generous piece, she placed it on a small plate for Oliver, then handed him a fork.

"Not only did Luther marry the prettiest girl in town, he married the best cook too," Oliver said, grinning.

"Oliver, you're just as full of it now as you were twenty years ago," Megan said laughing. "Now what about Jill's car?"

"The only thing wrong with that car, is it's not mine," he said after quickly swallowing. "I drove it about five miles, then put it back up on the rack. The pan is dry as a powder house. The hose is fine, too. She's ready to go."

"And, how much do we owe you?"

"I got the pan welded free ... well, he owed me one. Pay me the forty-seven dollars that the hose cost, and we'll call it even." When Megan started to speak, he went on, "Hell, I was just sitting around doing a whole lot of nothing, anyway."

"But what about the cost of the oil and antifreeze? That must be another thirty dollars or so?"

"Ah, just forget it. I'll throw that in as my part in your little enterprise. Besides, I already had them."

Megan hesitated as she looked at the old mechanic. "Thank you, Oliver. Maybe one day..." she said counting out the money to him.

"Ain't gonna be no 'one day.' Times are hard. We help each other. You two have helped me in the past. My turn now. Enough said about that. Now how's the lass?"

"I got some food down her and she went back to sleep. She's adamant to go as soon as the car is ready."

"Well, from what little you've told me about her, I guess she needs to get back to her husband for some reason..."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more, but her problems are really personal."

"You and Luther saying she needs help is good enough for me," he said finishing his piece of cake. Downing the last of his coffee, he stood. "Thanks for the coffee and cake. You ready to run me back to the garage?" he said putting Jill's keys on the table.

"Sure am. Let me get the keys to my pickup and my purse. I've got a couple of things to get for her while I'm out."

-------

Later, Pastor Cambridge, Megan and Jill sat at the table. Jill had eaten a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. Worried, Megan reached over and touched Jill's hand. "Won't you stay for awhile? At least for the night?"

"A few good meals of my wife's cooking will help you out," Luther offered.

Jill sat fighting back tears. "I wish I could. It's been so long since I've sat and talked with anyone, let alone been treated so nice. But ... I have to go. I want to tell my husband and my little girl — face to face — what's happened to me. And I need to do a whole lot of apologizing."

"I still think that we could find the phone number. I know the Sheriff; he could contact the Sheriff out there. He'd probably know about this conference center on top of a mountain. Of course, the simplest way would be to call this Wainwright, Inc., in Saint Louis and ask them."

"Please, don't do that. Ingles is ... oh, devious, comes to mind, but he's more than that. He probably has people looking for me everywhere. Someone will alert him if anyone calls about the conference center. Please don't do that."

"We've already promised; you don't need to worry. We're just worried that you will have a hard time finding the place."

"I'll find it," Jill said, her voice determined. "I'll find it."

They sat in silence for a moment, then, "You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me," she said, glancing at the small, used cloth case on the floor beside her. "You even packed me a lunch," she finished, indicating the insulated lunch box sitting beside her on the table. "The cost..."

"Oh, stop worrying about that," Megan broke in. "I got most of the stuff from the church's storm closet."

At Jill's questioning look, Megan continued, "Oh, that's just a term we use. It's actually a storage room. We accumulate everything we can. When there's storm damage anywhere in the nation, we donate everything, then start over again. Hang on a minute; I'll be right back."

Luther chatted with Jill, drawing her out more while Megan was gone. When she returned, she put a small shoulder purse on the table. "We've put enough money in there to get you to Winter Park, plus enough to keep you going for a few days."

The tears burst forth. "I don't know how to thank you," Jill said opening the purse, then as she realized how much money there was, she started shaking her head. "No, no. I can't take all this."

Megan reached over and squeezed her hand. "You don't owe us anything. If you must give it back, then do this, instead. Some day you'll meet someone who will need help. Help them instead. That way it's paid back in full."

"Just pass it on when you can," Luther agreed.

"I don't know how long I'm going to live. I guess my insurance through my husband is over now that we're divorced, so I can't get any medical help for the AIDS, but however long I live, I'll never forget you two," Jill said, breaking down and crying for real.

The preacher pulled her over to him and took her in his arms. "God will provide," he assured her, patting her shoulder and looking helplessly at his wife who smiled back at him.



-------

Chapter 8

Diana, nude except for a pair of spikes she had slipped on, stood in their bedroom looking in the large vanity mirror. She turned around to look over her shoulder at her rear and legs, the high heels making the muscles stand out. I guess it'll be spring before we can get back on the road for the jogging that Jeff started with us. But we've kept it up on the treadmills, and the exercise shows in my legs,  she thought as she turned back around to face herself in the mirror.

So much has changed in our lives since coming out here. She laughed aloud at the thought. I had no idea what I was getting into when he pushed that wonderful cock of his through my hymen while I lay in the back seat of that car all those years ago. And that mother of mine with her snide comments at the breakfast table each morning after my husband and I made love the night before, set the pattern for Jeff always making very gentle love to me, trying to do it with absolute quiet. What I needed then, and didn't know it, was to be fucked.

I doubt if Arlene fully realized just how much difference she has made to my love life. Sending Jeff in to fuck me changed everything in our lives. Watching my daughter and my husband fuck and make love changed me, too; maybe started the Queen Bitch in me. Now that I understand the concept a little better, yeah, that's when the Queen Bitch got started; although, I used to call it Boss Bitch before the healer told Jeff about the Queen Bitches of the alien society. Her manipulation of our bodies has been the precursor to that.

My sister-wives and I have become more sensitized to our husband — and to each other. That's usually not a problem; on the contrary, it's a big plus to our relationship. Making love the way we do now is an experience that I couldn't even imagine a few short months ago. But there is a little problem with it,  she thought as she brushed her long hair that seemed to glow with vitality. While my sister-wives felt enough of what Jeff was doing with his new wives last night to want to play for a while, I felt it much stronger. It was almost as if I were there. I couldn't sleep. I had orgasms, albeit little ones, every time they did, even with them at the other end of the retreat. When Jeff came, it left me panting. I doubt if I slept much more than they did. The downside is that I'm so horny that I'm going out of my mind.

Her breasts were dribbling again. He was too busy to drain me yesterday, let alone this morning. Arlene used her breast pump as soon as she got out of bed, and I know that I need to,  she thought as she held her breasts looking in the mirror. How can I be so lucky? My body looks like an eighteen-year-old's. She brushed her fingertips across her nipples and had to grab hold of the counter to keep her balance as the stimulus overwhelmed her. Oh shit, I need that wonderful cock of his up me. She stood looking at her dripping nipples in the mirror. Well, crap, I'm his wife too. His Queen Bitch. And my body looks just as good as the two he's made love to all night.

She stood staring in the mirror, thinking. He's sitting in the living room with them snuggled against him — as he should. But... 

Making up her mind, she turned to her closet, snatching a white minidress off the rack. Walking back into the vanity area, she threw it on the counter. Feeling the milk running down her breasts, she leaned over the sink expressing the milk, hoping to get enough out to keep her nipples from dripping and wetting the front of the dress.

After a couple of minutes, she stopped, her knees feeling wobbly, looking in frustration in the mirror. The more I pull on my nipples, the more mini-orgasms I have, and the more milk my body produces. "Fuck it," she snarled half-aloud.

She pulled the dress on and zipped it up the back, adjusting the spaghetti straps and looking in the mirror. It was a cocktail dress designed for someone much bolder than she was. The front barely reached above her nipples; the front of the thin dress seeming to be suspended on her swollen buds. I could never wear this little piece of material out in public. It looks more like a fancy slip than a dress. Laughing to herself, I look more nude now than I did before I put the thing on. She could just hear Jeff saying, "Now, not wearing that dress in public would be a good thing — fewer wrecks that way."

Looking one last time at her hair, she thought about makeup, then, What for? I've had my makeup complimented on over and over — when I didn't have any on. Quit stalling bitch. Why are you suddenly wondering about your husband? Get your ass in gear before your milk ruins this expensive few ounces of cloth. Quickly, she walked out of the bedroom, through the sitting room and into the hallway, headed for the living room where Jeff was sitting on the couch with Caitlin and Joyce tucked under his arms.

-------

Jeff had slid down a little on the couch, his arms around his two new wives, sneaking a power nap as the girls chatted. Feeling both stiffen, he opened his eyes.

Diana strode purposely across the room, her braless breasts swaying with that little bounce that was distinctly Diana's, her swollen nipples seeming to lead the way.

"Uh oh," Caitlin said.

Diana stopped in front of them, a grin on her face, a hand resting on a hip cocked to the side. As Jeff started to greet her, she leaned forward grabbing his head, and covered his mouth with hers.

When she pulled back after a moment, she said while still staring at her husband's eyes, but speaking to the women, "Sit still my lovely sister-wives. You haven't done anything wrong, but I think I had a mini-version of every orgasm the two of you had all night last night. I need the use of our husband for a little while to tide me over until he can really fuck me tonight."

Reaching down to a startled Jeff, she unbuckled his belt, undid his pants and slid the zipper down.

"Baby, we need to go to the bedroom. All our friends are here."

"Fuck it, if they can't take a joke," she said. Jeff assumed she was kidding, but maybe not.

Grabbing hold of his pants, she pulled. Not being an entire idiot, Jeff raised his ass to help her, making sure his shorts went with his pants. But still worried, said, "Baby, I'll be more than glad to make love to you, but maybe we should go..."

"Screw making love. I need to be fucked. Besides, all our friends are probably fucking each other's brains out right now, anyway."

Pulling the short skirt to her waist, she knelt with her legs on either side of him and locked her mouth to his. Joyce and Caitlin looked at each other for a second, then in unison reached for the spaghetti straps of the dress. As the straps slid down her arms, Diana broke the kiss for a second to get them the rest of the way off.

Joyce hooked her fingers on the top of the dress and pulled down. Diana's long breasts popped out and bounced right in Jeff's face, milk already spraying from her nipples.

"Looks like you need a little help there," he said reaching for her left breast and leaning forward a little to take the swollen nipple into his mouth.

Caitlin reached between them and steadied his cock, pointing it straight up. Diana rose up and eased down when she felt his cock. Adjusting herself for a second, she tried to sit down hard, taking him into her pussy that was already as wet as a swamp. Moving herself up when his cock wouldn't go any farther, she sat down hard again, shoving his thick cock to her womb, her body bucking forcefully several times as her orgasm hit.

"Oh, yeessss," she screamed, grabbing Jeff's head and holding it against her breast as he sucked. "Fuck me. Fuck me — hard," she wailed.

Jeff grabbed her thrashing hips taking control, and lunged his groin upward, hard, knowing he was probably hurting her, but also knowing that's what she wanted this time. Relentlessly, he hammered up into his wife. Her breast pulled out of his mouth, bouncing as she bucked, milk spraying on Jeff's face and chest. A little of it even splattered on the two new wives who hadn't moved an inch away. Giggling from the milk, they occasionally stroked Jeff's and Diana's arms.

Just as Diana had screamed out for Jeff to fuck her, Margaret and Frank stepped into the living room and froze.

"Oh, shit," Frank whispered.

"Yeah," Margaret whispered back.

"They haven't seen us, yet," Frank whispered to her. "Let's just back out the door before we embarrass them."

"The hell you say," Margaret answered grabbing his hand and walking over to the back of the nearest couch. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled her panties down and stepped out of them, pulled the skirt to her waist, then leaned over the back of the couch, her eyes never leaving Jeff and Diana. "Fuck me," she whispered.

Frank had stumbled along behind Margaret, not able to take his eyes off Diana. His profile view of the fucking couple allowed him to see Diana's great breasts that he had thought of many times. He couldn't understand how breasts that long could stand straight out. Frank loved Margaret, but like any man, always wanted to know what another woman's breasts looked like.

"Stick your cock in, dammit. You can stare at her breasts while you're fucking me."

Wainwright managed, somehow, to free himself of his pants, shorts and shoes, his cock as hard as it had ever been in his life. Margaret's pussy was waiting for him — wet. He slipped in without any trouble, and she clamped down, claiming his cock as hers.

"Fuck me," she whined, her ass trying to slam back into him, even as one of her hands reached back and grabbed his, bringing it to her swinging breast as she held the top and bra out of the way with her other hand.

"Grab my other breast," she hissed, "and squeeze. Dammit Frank, fuck me — hard."

With a handful of taut titty in each hand, he did just that, ramming into her with a smack, smack, smack as their groins slammed together.

"Harder..." There was a pause, then, "Oh, shitttt," Margaret screamed, "I'm commming."

Caitlin and Joyce, the soreness and swelling forgotten in their pussies, had their shorts pulled down and were rubbing their clits like crazy, all the while laughing at Margaret.

Jeff had been vaguely aware that someone had entered the room, but his full attention was in the delightful woman in his arms. When Margaret screamed out, Jeff held at the top of his stroke, his cock not only buried in Diana, but pushing very hard against her cervix. When Jeff's movements quit, Diana's went into overdrive as she squealed through a continuous orgasm, expecting her lover to pump sperm into her at any moment, totally unaware of why Jeff had stopped.

When Jeff's mind put together what was happening, the orgasm that was already right on the edge went over. He felt something cramp inside him and knew this one was truly going to be a good one. A second later, sperm laden semen gushed out into Diana with force, drenching her cervix and changing her continuing orgasm into the one. She lost all coordination, her body thrashing, her breasts spurting milk. It seemed to go on and on. In mid thrash, she gasped and slumped against her husband, suddenly and totally out.

Frank, seeing Diana collapse, knew what was going on and it triggered his orgasm. He took a firmer grip on Margaret's breasts, rapid-stroked her a few times, then slammed hard into her womb and held as he painted the inside of her pussy with his sperm, his cock continuing to jerk and spurt long after he thought he should be done.

Margaret collapsed across the back of the couch. "Oh, fuck," she whispered, her body shaking. "I don't think I've ever come that hard, or that many times in so short a period of time."

Frank didn't answer, but just lay across her gasping for breath, the head of his cock sore, his balls hurting as he wondered if he had ruptured something.

As Frank put more and more of his weight on Margaret, she slipped farther over the low-back couch until they both slid onto the seat, laughing — still connected.

"Don't pull that thing out," Margaret gasped, "All that come will stain the couch."

"Well, since we're here, anyway," Frank laughed, realizing that his cock was still hard, "might as well have some more fun." He pulled out a little and shoved back hard into Margaret's sopping pussy. It made the farting sound, as fucking a come-filled pussy is wont to do when semen is forced out around a cock.

Caitlin and Joyce both laughed when they heard the sound.

If their laughing bothered Margaret, she didn't respond to it, but rather said, "Let me on top. I can't move enough with you back there. I know I'm going to regret this. I was already sore from last night, but..." She trailed off as they tried to unwind their legs and remain connected while the swap was made.

Jeff, who had a good view of the couple, was proud of his friends' agility as Margaret was shortly sitting on top of Frank, who was now lying on his back, his cock still embedded to the hilt. Margaret's pretty ass was soon moving back and forth at a furious pace, with an occasional up-and-down stroke thrown in at random, her breasts doing interesting things as they moved while the couple fucked. Jeff decided that something had really turned her on for she soon screamed to the top of her lungs.

Frank just hung on for the ride, his eyes fastened to her bouncing titties.

-------

Using Megan's directions, Jill found her way the couple of blocks back to the highway, then turned toward the interstate. Her right front seat was full of lunch — at least three meals worth — a large thermos filled with coffee fixed just the way she liked it, and several bottles of water. The used purse sat near her containing the five hundred dollars that she suspected Luther and Megan could ill afford to give away. She now had a phone. She had made certain that she had Megan and Luther's phone number, full name and address. Jill had tried to give everything back except fifty dollars, saying that would surely be enough to get her to Winter Park. She already had a full tank of gas, but it looked like Megan was going to cry if Jill didn't take the money.

Somehow, I have to get their money back. I didn't even get to meet the mechanic who fixed my car, but Megan told me that he didn't charge a thing for his labor. How could I be so lucky after all the bad things that have happened to me?

A few minutes later, she turned onto the Interstate. I don't have to drive at sixty to try and save gas, she thought as she set the cruise control at the speed limit. I feel better than I have in — I don't know how long. My mind is clearer today than it was yesterday, even though I'm still shaking. But now I can feel how hopeless this whole thing really is. I'm still scared that Ingles will get me back, and even if I do make it to this ... conference center, what am I going to say to Bill? How am I ever going to be able to look Linda in the face after what she heard on the phone? Damn Ingles for making me say those things. That sorry fuck was masturbating when I was talking to him. He got off on me talking dirty.

Glancing at her map for a second, Oh, why didn't I go for that weekend at the conference center when Mr. Wainwright invited us that time? But Margaret and Mr. Wainwright were the only people that were going to be there that I knew. All those doctors and technical people were going to be there, and I knew that they would be talking shop. I'm not an idiot. I have a degree, but I wouldn't have known anything that they were talking about. But if I had gone, I would know where the place is. Oh, how am I going to be able to find it?

Unconsciously tightening her grip on the steering wheel, I'll find it. I'll just keep looking until I do.

Suddenly she saw blue lights flashing behind her. Her heart seemed to stop, but the trooper sped past her with a roar of sound. A few minutes later, she had to slow for traffic to merge into a single lane, but out here in the middle of nowhere, it didn't cause the congestion that it would have back home.

Back home? I don't have a home, anymore. Tears leaked from her eyes as she eased past an overturned eighteen-wheeler, the trooper now covered in white dust, carrying his empty fire extinguisher back to his patrol car.

Buck up, Bitch. You've let Ingles ruin your life, but my husband and daughter are going to know why I left them before I die.

Clear of the wreck, she brought the car back up to speed, still shaken from the thought that Ingles had caught up with her when she had seen the blue lights bearing down on her.

-------

Later, she pulled into a rest area, used the bathroom, and returned to her car to eat a sandwich. It felt good on her stomach and seemed like it was going to stay down, but she was discouraged that she was still weak. Driving all day yesterday had taken its toll on her abused body. Fatigue was already setting in. I probably should have just stayed with them until Sunday morning, but I'll get a motel when I get too tired.

Looking around her, she decided that she would be safe enough with the doors locked, and leaned the seat back. I'm going to take a little nap while I'm here,  she thought as she pulled Ingles coat around her and closed her eyes.

-------

The women enjoyed the flight, and Fred was glad he had sprung for the extra for first class. The money was there, even without touching what Jeff had put in his checking account — or was it Diana? Dammit, I've told them I don't need the money. I made a killing over the years, but they won't listen. I'm no millionaire, but the RV is paid for and I haven't touched my savings. The wider and thicker seats with greater legroom made the almost three-hour flight much more enjoyable. The ladies particularly loved it when the flight attendant gave them a warm, slightly damp facial towel to refresh themselves shortly before landing.

Mark had to work, and so couldn't pick them up at the airport. The taxi driver was pleased with the long trip, though. He damn sure made a handful of money out of it,  Fred thought as he paid the driver at Mark's house.

"The Cruiser is over there," Fred said as he nodded toward the side of the driveway in front of a modest house. "Mark said he would unpack the FedEx boxes and put our cases and stuff in the car. Now we have to go right back to Atlanta. I called the dealer and he said he would be open until nine tonight, anyway. We could have picked up the RV and come out here first, but I had rather have them help me hook the Cruiser up to tow the first time," he said hitting the remote and opening the right two doors for the women, then opening the hatch to check their stuff before walking around to the driver's door.

"Does Mark live alone?" Jessica asked looking at the house.

"Yeah, he's not married and didn't have a live-in when I was here. Didn't mention one when I talked to him on the phone, either. Why? You want to audition for the job?" he joked as he started the car.

"No," Jessica quickly said, then after a couple of seconds. "I've already got my husband picked out, and you know it."

Fred, wondering if it were something else, backed into the street. Dropping the selector into Drive, he pulled away. "So why are you interested in Mark?" he asked, glancing in the mirror at Jessica who was sitting behind him.

Jessica looked embarrassed for a moment. "Oh, this isn't going to come out right. From the way you talked about him, he's young. I just..."

"Couldn't figure out what a young guy was doing being such close friends with an old fart like me, eh?" he teased. Before Jessica could become more frustrated, he continued, "When he started out as a cop, he had problems qualifying. They still let me use the police range, so I took a Saturday and improved his shooting a little. They had already spent a week teaching him. He had just picked up some bad habits along the way. Shoots on the pistol team now," he laughed. "Mostly just didn't believe in himself. He made a big deal out of nothing, and we've been friends ever since. He's a good kid though. Some girl could do a lot worse than to team up with him for the rest of her life."

"Not me," Jessica laughed, "I've got my man. Well, nearly," she amended, catching her mother's eye as Carla glanced around at her for a second, a look passing between them that Fred tried to ignore.

-------

Later they pulled off the street into the RV lot, then made their way to the main building. Fred stopped next to the giant RV that was parked right in front.

Carla hesitated for a second, then tried to tactfully say, "Uh, maybe you should park over there," she said, pointing. "They've obviously put this thing," she continued, pointing to the beautiful monster beside them, "out front for display."

Fred, realizing what was going on in her mind, had to jerk her strings a little. "Ah, fuck it. My money is as good as the next guy's. They want the car moved; they can do it themselves," he said getting out.

Carla glanced in the back at Jessica, wondering why the laid-back Fred was suddenly acting this way. Both women looked at each other for a moment, then got out of the car.

"Uh, Fred..." Carla started.

A man of about sixty with silver hair combed back on the sides, rounded the front of the RV and addressed Fred. "Afternoon, Sir. May I help you ... Oh ... uh," he said coming to a halt, taking in the two pretty women and...

"Mr. Wilson? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," Fred laughed. "Lost a few pounds."

The owner took the last few steps and put out his hand. As they shook, "More than that. Man, you look younger. Sorry I didn't recognize you. She's all ready to go," he said, indicating the RV. "And who are these lovely ladies?" he finished, with a salesman's charm.

"This is Carla Chambers and this is her daughter, Jessica. This is Gary Young; the owner here."

Must have heard wrong,  Young thought. No way these two can be mother and daughter, even with that family resemblance.

After the pleasantries were over, Young turned toward the RV, waving his hand slightly to indicate it. "We pulled it out this morning and washed it."

Carla and Jessica looked at each other. "Uh, Fred, this is yours?" Carla said, not sure her voice was steady.

"No," Fred said, very serious. "This is ours."

-------

A little later, their things were loaded and Young introduced them to a younger man who had just walked up. "Mr. Wilson, I'm going to have to run. I promised my wife that I would take off for a few hours, but I'm going to leave you with McDaniel. He's going to go through everything again, in case you have forgotten some of the features of the unit since I showed them to you. Also, so that the ladies can see all this fabulous rig has to offer. To be truthful, he does a better job than I do in demonstrating the unit. You still have my card?"

"Yeah," Fred said.

"Okay. In a couple of days, I would very much like for you to call me and tell me how you are getting along with your new home. Would you do that for me? Just use the 800 number on the card. I've had my people go over the unit and they say everything is fine, but satisfied customers have kept me in business for thirty years, when others here in Atlanta have gone broke. Please call me," he said holding out his hand to shake.

"I'll do that. Thank you for keeping the RV here for me. And thanks for the way you talked about Brenda to me on the phone. It touched my heart," Fred said.

"Well, I meant every word. Now let me get out of here before I get into trouble at home. Mr. McDaniel will take care of you. And remember, if you forget anything, or have trouble looking it up in the manual, feel free to give us a call. We'll be glad to help you. Oh," he said, turning back for a moment, "she's fueled up and the water and propane tanks are full as well. Enjoy."

-------

Jeffrey McDaniel chatted with them for a moment, then said, "Okay, Mr. Wilson, even though you have been introduced to your new home several weeks ago, I've been instructed to give the complete orientation."

Fred smiled back at him. "Your boss has been really nice to me about keeping the rig while I became a little more accustomed to my loss. And these two ladies haven't had the orientation, so don't rush through anything. Feel free to do the whole thing. We would all appreciate it."

"All right then. Let's start with the external systems and features. This is Gulf Streams' Tour Master. Actually, this was custom ordered by another individual who had a stroke prior to delivery. Mr. Wilson bought it when it became available," he said to the women. "And of course, it's brand new. You have what the manufacturer calls the Blue Fusion paint scheme. The rig is a Class A RV diesel. Mr. Wilson, you have the big motor — the four hundred and sixty horsepower Cummings diesel. Actually, the power will be stronger than that as you opted to have us install the Banks PowerPack. One hundred gallon fuel tank with a hitch that will easily tow that PT Cruiser that the guys are hooking up. They are also installing the auxiliary towed vehicle braking system as we speak.

"Now let's start out here on the passenger side of the coach." Starting with a panel near him, he opened the compartment, eventually pulling out the large LCD screen and turning it on to show a brilliant picture even in the outside light. "Oh, yeah," he commented, "that's HD satellite, of course. It automatically finds and tracks the satellite when you turn any one of your TVs on. Might lose the signal when you're in downtown traffic making turns, or going along a cliff or through heavy woods, but on the open road, free of obstructions, it works amazingly well — not to mentioned parked in a campground."

Pointing to the radio he noted, "Besides being a standard AM/FM radio, the unit is equipped with XM Radio. Included in the package is a 24-month subscription to XM Radio that you can activate by calling the toll-free number when you get underway. Also notice that on the bottom corner is the jack line for an iPod."

While talking, he pulled out the next compartment on the passenger side of the vehicle, exposing a grill. "You can watch the game while grilling," he added. "The LP gas line feeds off the main tank. Before using, move the lever to open the line to the grill. When finished, for safety reasons, we highly recommend closing off the line. Other than opening and closing the valve, the grill is always ready to go." Raising another door: "Cargo bin. One of several, complete across the coach for long items that you might want to take with you."

"How is the TV operating now?" Carla broke in. "The generator isn't running. Is the TV..."

"Right here, Ma'am," McDaniel said, opening another door on the RV, exposing six big batteries. "The two on top are for operating the RV itself. The four on the bottom have a two thousand watt inverter that provides power for the appliances, without having to even start the generator. Of course, the generator comes on automatically when the battery power diminishes, or you can start it by pressing a button inside the coach, or the start button on the generator itself." He showed them how the distilled water refill system worked for the house batteries and stressed the importance of keeping the battery cells at the right level. He also explained how the three 123 watt solar panels on the roof were linked into the battery system.

The tour went on and on, power awnings that automatically retract in high winds, back up camera with sound, mirror cameras that came on when you hit the turn signal, one-button leveling system. Before going inside, he walked them through the water and electric hookups as well as the black and gray water dumping process.

Laughing, Carla announced, "That looks like a man's job. Jessica and I will do the dishes in return."

Inside, McDaniel pressed the button that activated the slide-out for the whole right side, increasing the size of the interior nicely. The cockpit — for that's what it had to be called — caught their attention next. All instruments were easily within sight of the driver. Next were solar panels that came down across the windows with a touch of a button, then black-out panels for privacy that activated the same way, luxurious interior with real maple wood cabinetry, Corian countertops throughout. Every appliance that you would find in a home kitchen was in the galley.

The tour bogged down while Carla and Jessica examined everything in the kitchen. McDaniel joined in to point out things that they had missed, actually seeming to enjoy helping them to find things. He drew their attention to a monitor panel that gave the status of each utility system. The fresh water, gray and black water tanks each had their own monitor along with the one for the propane tanks and the house battery system.

"But it doesn't have a washer and dryer?" Jessica said, looking around.

"In the back," McDaniel said, motioning. The tour became a little disjointed then, as he broke further out of recitation mode and showed them the stacked washer and dryer next. Of course, that's when they saw the king-sized bed, whose head would raise up to make it a vast recliner when you wanted to watch the large LCD TV. The full-sized shower/sauna in the back of the master bedroom, not to mention the other half bath at the midpoint of the RV, and the Hide A Bed in the living room, were shortly checked out by the women.

Over an hour later, McDaniel reminded them about the Tour Master manual, which had everything in it that he had shown them, plus the DVD that did the same thing.

"The Woodall's Campground Directory is there," he said, pointing to the cabinet over the sofa, "and the GPS is programmed with all of them, plus every hotel and motel, restaurant, gas station ... you name it."

McDaniel's tour hadn't been all talk, either. He had each of them press all the buttons, and personally do everything, virtually assuring that they would be able to do it by themselves later.

"So," Fred said when they had thanked McDaniel, "what would you tell first-time owners that should be the top of their list as they start out?"

McDaniel looked at Fred for a moment, realizing that the man wasn't joking. "Well, a couple of things," he quietly said, noticing that the women were also intently listening as everyone stood just outside the door of the RV. "First off, remember it's a big rig with a lot of mass. It takes longer to stop, so hold your temper when cars cut in front of you. You're on vacation; you aren't in a hurry. Back off, give them room so you can stop when they jam on their brakes. And second, the thing that helps me and my family more than anything to enjoy ourselves is simply to remember that if you're in a hurry — take a plane. This RV is for enjoying the scenery. So take your time and do just that as you travel from place to place. Don't be a road warrior fighting to get from point A to point B. We live in a beautiful country, take your time and enjoy it as you travel."

Moments later, after thanking McDaniel, they eased out of the lot. Fred, a lot more tense than he projected, pulled the forty-two foot rig onto the street and headed for — what else — Wal-Mart.



-------

Chapter 9

Fred, very tentative with the big RV, maneuvered it into the Wal-Mart lot only a few miles from the dealer.

Carla, sitting in the passenger seat, pointed to the other side of the lot. "There are two RVs parked over there."

"Okay, thanks," Fred said as he waited for a car in front of them to move. The lot was busy, at least closer to the front of the store, but once he managed to get past it and to the other side, there was nothing to hinder him.

"If I had realized, I could have come in the entrance that was on that side without having to negotiate all that traffic," he said, trying to make light of his tentative driving.

A couple of minutes later, Fred brought them to a halt where the other RVs were parked.

"Heck, I thought you did fine," Jessica said as she came up and leaned over his shoulder to kiss him on the cheek.

"Me, too," Carla said. "You looked like you had been driving one of these all your life."

"Yeah, right," Fred laughed. "And all that sweat on my forehead is because I'm suddenly going through menopause?"

"Oh, bull. There isn't any sweat on you and you know it."

"There should be," Fred said as he shut down the rig. "Starting out with this thing in all that traffic wasn't the way I had envisioned it."

"Well," Carla said, "Jessica and I grinned at each other shortly after we pulled out of the dealer's lot. We were both positive that you had done this before."

"Brenda and I rented an RV several years ago, but it wasn't half the size of this one. Now, if my two very beautiful women are through making this old man's head swell from all the praise, just remember that most of the people that you see driving these rigs are old folks — sometimes, really old folks. Can't be that hard. And actually, it drives better than my Cruiser. It's just big," he laughed.

"That's the right attitude," Jessica said. "Your two women. You need to keep that firmly in mind," she laughed.

Jessica reached past Fred and pressed the button for the blackout screen. Then as the screens came down the windows, "Now, no one can see in, even if we have a light on inside," she said as she turned the lights on in the front and sat down in Fred's lap. "You're going to have to kiss both of your women before we go inside."

Laughing, Fred then did just that. A couple of minutes later, Carla replaced Jessica in his lap and he repeated the process.

"We need to make a list," Fred said after he managed to get his breath back and Junior adjusted in his pants.

"You mean this list?" Carla said taking a piece of paper out of her purse and handing it to Fred.

As he read the list, Carla continued, "Jess and I made that while you were taking a nap on the flight. We are bound to have missed some things, but with the cabinets, freezer and refrigerator all empty, there are a lot of things to buy."

"This is going to take a while," Fred said. "Want to take the car and go get something to eat first? It's already getting past supper time."

The two women looked at each other, then turned to him. "No way. We're going to feed our man in our new home tonight. We'll get some nice steaks — well, as good as Wal-Mart has, anyway, and start out with a good dinner," Carla said.

Fred was worried about the women already being tired after a long day of traveling, but he knew better than to argue with a done deal.

-------

"What did the manager say when you talked to him?" Carla asked as she and Jessica were stocking the cabinets an hour and a half later.

Fred, who had just taken a shower and walked back into the galley, replied, "I had heard that Wal-Mart would let you stay overnight in their lot, but I've been told that they didn't want you to level the rig or put out the slides. But those other two RVs have, so I asked him just to be courteous. He told me that he didn't care as long as it was just overnight. If we had some type of problem and needed to stay longer, to come talk to him. He even laughed and welcomed us to the 'Wal-Mart Campground, '" he finished as he rubbed a towel vigorously through his hair.

Jessica, who had just finished setting up the table, turned to Fred, "Hungry?" she asked.

"Heck, no. I'm starved," he laughed as he headed back for the bathroom to get rid of the towel and comb his hair.

"Want to try some wine?" Carla said. "It did come from Wal-Mart, but it wasn't cheap. Jessica and I know practically nothing about wine, but we thought we should celebrate your new home."

"Somebody is going to get spanked if you keep on with the 'your.' I was dead serious about this thing belonging to all three of us."

"And we are dead serious about you being our man," Carla answered right back. "Now pour the wine; the steaks are ready."

A few minutes later, they were all seated at the table. As they joined hands for a short prayer of thanks, Carla cleared her throat. "This should have been you and Brenda. We know that. We wish that could have been — more than you could ever realize."

Fred blinked away the mist in his eyes and started to reply when: "Tell them that I said thank you. Tell them."

Fred hesitated; all of them still holding hands. "Uh..."

"Brenda said something, didn't she?" Carla asked.

"We could see the look pass over your face," Jessica added.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Fred looked first at Carla, then Jessica. "Yeah, she said to tell you thank you," he said.

"Good," Carla said. Then matter-of-factly, "We wish you could eat with us, Brenda. But knowing that you're here for our first meal in the RV is nice, anyway."

"Yeah," Jessica said. "We can somehow tell when you are talking to Fred. We wish you could be here in person."

Fred felt a feeling of love wash over him, knowing it came from Brenda.

Smiling, he squeezed the hands he held and thanked God for the meal and their safe flight.

-------

Fred had gotten into bed first, wearing his shorts as usual, the women following after their shower. But they didn't tease him, or give him a show, just turned out the lights and crawled into bed beside him. Jessica on his right and Carla on his left.

First Carla kissed him, then Jessica, their firm breasts pressing against his side and chest.

"We're all tired tonight, and none of us wants to remember our first time as being in Wal-Mart's parking lot," Carla sniggered.

"But you can believe that we won't wait forever. We know that Brenda has given her permission..." Jessica started.

"Look, Ladies. We all know that I'm fucked up. I hear her all the time. And I know that you two love me, and I love you, but..."

"We're not just being condescending," Carla interrupted. "We believe you can actually hear her. Now don't get started about this. We've discussed it before. We're well aware that it's only been a few weeks since she died, but she has given her permission, and well, to tell the truth, we've ... uh, started to feel her when she talks to you. So we believe; really believe. We love you. Just be prepared. We're not going to wait forever for our man to take us."

"It already feels like forever," Jessica grumped as she tried to sneak her hand toward his groin, but Fred grabbed it.

"Kiss our man goodnight," Carla said. "We're all too tired to argue about it — tonight," she quietly added while squeezing her daughter's hand.

-------

Jill had napped several times during the afternoon; consequently, it was well after ten before she got to Winter Park. There had been a couple of feet of snow near the top of the mountain on US 40, but the road itself was clear. With dread, she parked in front of the first motel she came to and went inside. Then the expected hit.

"Cash will be fine, Ma'am, but I'll still have to have your credit card and a picture ID."

When Jill told him she didn't have either with her, the clerk replied that they had many young people that rented the rooms when they went skiing. When she pressed him, he told her that they sometimes got to drinking and broke things in the rooms. Management had long since required a credit card and a valid ID matching the name on the card before renting the room.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, but all the chain hotels and motels will have the same policy."

They had always used a credit card when renting a room or suite when she, Bill and Kathy went somewhere on vacation. An acquaintance had griped that some hotels wouldn't take cash at all. Now she had come face to face with it.

Thanking the clerk, she left and drove through town to a motel on the outskirts, hoping to change her luck. Although the quality was obviously not equal to the first place, the conversation at the front desk was.

Frustrated, she drove back into town, picked one of the larger hotels, and parked between to out-of-state SUVs in their outside lot. Totally exhausted, she leaned her seat back, covered up with the coat, and was out.

Three times during the night, she awoke cold. Each time, she ran the car long enough to get warm, then turned the motor off and went back to sleep, not wanting to leave the motor running while she was sleeping.

-------

Sunlight and a full bladder woke Jill the next morning. After brushing her hair, she took out the Handy Wipes that Megan had provided and wiped her face and hands, then found a convenience store and used their bathroom. Afterward, she got a cup of coffee and stopped at the counter to pay. "I'm looking for someone. He's supposed to be living at a convention center on top of a mountain around here somewhere. It is owned by Wainwright, Inc. — or was. I think the place has been sold lately. Would you happen to have heard of it?" she asked the clerk, realizing how lame she sounded.

The clerk, an older woman, smiled at her. "Sweetheart, everything is built on top of a mountain around here," she laughed. "But seriously, the area is full of ski resorts..."

"I think this one is just for conferences. I don't think they had anything to do with skiing. I think they had meetings there and maybe had some of the employees up from time to time as a reward, or something like that."

The clerk stood looking at her for a moment. "I've never heard of it, but I know how to find out," she finished, turning away to pick up the phone and dialing.

A moment later, she hung up and turned back to Jill. "I've just asked the police department to send someone by. They'll know if anyone does."

The clerk would never know how hard it was for Jill to stay, and not run out the door. Her mind filled with Ingles' taunts about him calling the police if she ever got away from him. Somehow, she forced reason to prevail. Shakily, she thanked the clerk and walked to the door where she stood sipping her coffee and staring outside.

A few minutes later, a patrol car stopped out front and a uniformed officer walked in. "Hey, Collene. What do you have?" a young female officer asked as she entered the store.

"This lady needs directions. I've never heard of the place she's looking for," the clerk answered.

A few minutes later, it became obvious that the officer didn't know where it was, either. "You say that you think it may be a ways out of Winter Park?"

"That's my impression," Jill answered.

The cop, used to hundreds of requests for directions, never even bothered to ask Jill why she needed to go there, but instead, "I can guarantee it isn't inside the city limits. Hang on. Let me see if Jesse is working this morning. I'm pretty sure he works on Sunday. If it's in the county, he'll know where it is."

The cop went back outside and used her lapel mike to talk to someone, then a few moments later, her cell phone rang.

Walking back inside after the call, she casually glanced at Jill. "I've got a county deputy on the way. I think he knows where this place is. Just hang around. He said it would take him about fifteen minutes to get here."

"Thank you, Officer. I think I'll just sit in my car..."

"I'll send him over to you," the cop interrupted, dismissing Jill and starting a conversation with the clerk.

Jill went back to her car and sat behind the wheel, her hands shaking. I hate this shaking. I guess its withdrawal from the bastard's drugs. Then again, maybe it's the AIDS. Sighing, she leaned back against the headrest and dozed.

There was a tapping on her window that brought her back from a dream of being on her knees servicing ... Shaking herself mentally, she tried to forget the dream/memory as she flipped the switch and hit the button to roll the window down.

"Hello, Ma'am. I'm deputy Jesse Goodman. Would you tell me where you want to go, please?"

Taking a breath and trying to calm herself as she looked up at the hansom deputy, "It's a conference center owned by, or used to be owned by, Wainwright, Inc. My husband, well ... my ex-husband is a pilot for them. I think my daughter lives there," she added, wondering why she seemed to trust this deputy enough to say what she just did.

"And your name, Ma'am?"

"Jill Madison."

"You're Bill's ex-wife?" Jesse asked, a frown starting on his face.

"Yes," Jill quickly answered. "You know where the conference center is?" she gushed out.

Jesse, suddenly far less than enthused, said instead, "May I ask why you want to go there?"

Jill realized that she had problems. Obviously the deputy knew her husband and daughter, and maybe even seemed to be protecting them. She wondered how much he knew about what had occurred. She looked at the deputy's face, his eyes seeming to pierce to her soul. Taking a chance, and realizing that it might be her last, she decided to tell the truth. "Officer, I know from your tone of voice that you're wondering. I didn't come here to cause trouble."

Suddenly there were tears — frustrating tears — that caused her to choke up, but she fought through them. "I've been told that I have AIDS — that I'm dying. I want to see my daughter and my ... husband. I want to tell them what happened to me," she said, reaching for the deputy's hand that was resting on her windowsill, then quickly pulling her hand back at the last moment. After all, she was diseased and felt unclean.

"Deputy, not officer," Jesse absently corrected. The look on the woman's face was enough for Jesse, but her jerking her hand back from touching him right after she said she had AIDS spoke very loudly of her character; although, he was also aware that AIDS couldn't be transferred through such casual contact.

"Ma'am, it's thirty miles or so, the last ten of which will be a narrow mountain road. Then you get to their driveway. You sure you're up to it?" he said as he took in her pallor and shaking hands.

"I've come a long way. I'll make it," she said with determination.

"Okay, but I'm going to call first. If they say no, then it's no, period. Understand?"

"Oh, please, Deputy..."

"They'll see you, Ma'am. They're all good folks up there. But I'm going to call, anyway."

Goodman stepped away from her car and took out his cell, hitting his speed dial.

-------

Fred woke with the two women still snuggled to him, his morning hard-on tenting the sheet. Fred wasn't a shy man — certainly. He had been a cop all those years, but Brenda, his life-mate, truly his soul mate, had only been dead a few weeks. Having her live in his mind — or was it memory — made it impossible to even slightly let her death slip from the forefront of his thoughts. Was he crazy? Did she really talk to him? Or was she just a memory that he conjured up in his mind when she seemed to talk to him?

Glancing down at the deeply asleep women, their heads on his chest, hair tousled and laying partially across their faces, breathing deep and regular, he knew that he loved them — was in love with them. Each had an arm thrown across him, and as he raised the sheet to look, They're holding hands, even in their sleep.

He dropped the sheet back in place. Whatever Jeff has done to them, Carla now looked like Jessica's older sister. Hell, I barely recognize myself when I look in the mirror. If Young hadn't been expecting me and we hadn't been standing by the RV, I doubt if he would have recognized me. He made a big deal out of it, anyway.

But how can both of them be in love with me? They aren't even jealous. That damn sure isn't normal. But then again, there's Jeff with all his wives. Nine of them now, I guess, and his Queen Bitch is probably the instigator, unless they're all lying to us. Hell, Diana, and I guess all Jeff's wives, expect me to take both of these women for my wives. How weird is that? But, then again, it seems so — normal.

He lay watching the sheet move slightly as his cock throbbed, having found its way through the front of his shorts sometime prior to his waking up. I can't even bring myself to jerk off. It just doesn't seem right with Brenda barely in her grave. Hell, Carla and Jessica take showers with me half the time. I can hardly keep their hands off me, and I suspect that even then, they're holding back because of my grieving about Brenda. I know that Carla still grieves over Sam. I've seen her crying several times when she didn't know that I was around.

But I'm younger now — as strange as that sounds, it's the closest I can come to it. My body is younger, and my urge for sex is so intense that I can hardly stand it. I want to throw both of them on the bed, or bend them over, and ram my cock to the hilt. Shit! I'm so fucked up.

Apparently his mental anguish must have been picked up by the women. Maybe he had moved or something, but they were suddenly looking up at him, then as one, they rolled more to their bellies, still partially on him, their faces close to his.

"Good morning," they both mumbled at the same time.

"Is something wrong?" Carla asked. "Your breathing changed, or something. I woke up."

"Me, too," Jessica added.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong."

Carla, frowning, stared at him and waited.

"Uh, okay. I got to thinking..."

"Not necessarily a good thing for a man," Jessica giggled.

"Brat. You're going to wind up over my knee," Fred mock threatened.

"Promises, promises," Jessica giggled, her hand drifting down his stomach.

Fred tried to reach for her hand, but the women lying on his chest hampered him. Jessica's hand circled his cock, soon to be joined by her mother's hand as well. Fred couldn't help it; he groaned.

"Ladies, I know this sounds stupid. Hell, I can't even believe I'm telling two pretty women to..."

"But you feel guilty," Carla finished for him, her hand starting to move on his cock. Jessica abandoned her hold on his cock to her mother and slid her hand slowly down to gently lift his balls. They felt swollen — to both of them.

"They're big. Full of come, I guess," Jessica giggled. "My fuck buddy didn't have balls that feel like these," Jessica said, totally unashamed to be talking about her ex-sex partner. Belatedly realizing that might not be a good topic of conversation, she apologized, "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't mention him. He doesn't even live in the area anymore. We were friends and wound up experimenting together. We even called each other our fuck buddy. But we both knew that it wasn't going any further than that."

Carla, feeling Fred's uneasiness with the subject, tried to explain. "She was raised on a ranch, and we didn't try to keep her from seeing the animals mating. Heck, she could tell you the gestation periods for various animals even when she was a small kid. If Sam and I made love in the daytime, we would just tell her that we were going to make love, and to stay out of the bedroom, even when she was barely more than a toddler," repeating something that she (Carla) had told him before, frustrated.

"I've never made love," Jessica broke in. "I mean, I really liked my fuck buddy, but we only did it a few times just to see how it was. He found a girl that he eventually married, and they moved away. I knew that I would never do it with anyone else, other than my husband. I've found him now, so I'm done experimenting — heck, have been since my fuck buddy found his lover."

Jessica released his balls to trail her nails gently to his cock. "I've only seen your cock and his. I always thought he had a nice one, but yours dwarfs his. I know it's made to go in me, but you're going to have to take it easy. I had long since torn my hymen horseback riding, so my buddy didn't hurt at all when he and I did it the first time, but this thing," she said, shaking his cock, "is going to stretch me — a lot. And, even then, I'm not sure it will fit."

"Diana said that she thought that Alphas had larger cocks, and that the — whatever she called it — the... process that Jeff used on us, would make a man grow to his natural potential. I always thought that Sam was hung, and we loved each other. The sex was out of this world. But this is bigger," she laughed, giving his cock a little shake as her daughter had done a moment before.

Feeling the women's breasts slide against his chest as they moved around, not to say anything about their hands on his dick, was almost more than Fred could stand. "Ladies, it's not that I don't want you; you have no idea how much. And I do love the both of you; it's just not been long enough. Brenda and I..."

"We need to have a talk," Carla broke in. "The four of us."

"Four of us?" Fred said with inflection.

Carla took a breath. "Yeah. That was supposed to have been Caitlin's dad that spoke through Mr. Wainwright at the wedding. Brenda speaks to you all the time, and it's increasing. Maybe it has something to do with the Alphas. Anyway, you need to ask her to, well, sort of sit with us and help us iron this out. Diana says that you have called us to be your mates. I agree with her. It's abnormal to not have sex with your mate. Jessica and I are hurting, and we think you are, too. Time to get things straightened out."

Fred lay thinking about that for a minute. Brenda? he thought.

"I'm here," the voice he remembered said in his mind.

Are you real?

As soon as the thought occurred, he admonished himself. Well, shit. Asking myself if a fantasy is real is just plain stupid. What did I expect? Maybe to lie to myself?

"As long as you keep thinking like that, there's no way I can prove that I'm real. But the more you think of me, the easier it is to talk to you."

Carla and Jessica lay half on his chest looking intently at him.

How can I be talking to my dead wife? I've never believed in ghosts. But I love you too much to give you up. It should have been me that died that day.

"Hush," she said in his mind. "I do think you're right about my death being a mistake, though. I think that's why I was left here. Somehow, I seem to be stronger. I think it has something to do with what Jeff did to you. And I know that Diana is right about your being an Alpha Male. I've always thought you were. Well, I never thought of you as an Alpha. I didn't have a name for it. But I knew my man was different. I could ... feel it. That's stronger, too. Much stronger.

"I'm here for a reason ... I just don't know what that reason is ... yet. But I have the feeling that the reason is coming nearer. Have the meeting with your women. Think of me. Talk to me as you are now. You can tell them what I say. It's time you took them as yours. They're becoming frustrated. Frustrated women might well do strange things."

As if talking to my dead wife isn't strange enough,  Fred found himself quipping back to Brenda the way they used to kid.

When he thought of that, he felt a flood of love for him.

"Strange on this end, too," she answered in his mind with a sense of laughter.



-------

Chapter 10

SUNDAY MORNING — SEPTEMBER 29

Jill stared grimly at the rear of the deputy's car as they negotiated the mountain road with its hairpin curves and drop-offs. When they turned into the driveway, the deputy stopped and walked back to Jill's car. As she rolled the window down, "You okay, Ma'am?" At her nod, "The next quarter mile is really steep, and, well, some people have trouble with the abyss," he said pointing to the side, farther up the drive where the switchbacks started. "If you want, you can ride with me, and someone will come get your car," he finished, worriedly.

"Just drive. I'll be behind you when we get there," Jill answered, speaking slowly and carefully. I've made it this far and can hold it together a while longer — long enough to see my baby.

"Okay," Jesse replied. "But if you have problems, just toot your horn." As he started to walk back to his patrol car, he turned back. "I've talked with Diana. She said to bring you on around to the back. It's a lot more convenient to enter the retreat there."

"Okay," Jill answered, wondering who Diana was. Suddenly, her stomach rebelled and she had to fight back bile. Just a little bit longer. This shaking is driving me crazy, and I'm so weak,  she thought as they started out.

After the first turn when she got her initial view of the abyss, she kept her eyes glued to the back of the patrol car. Her vehicle shifted back to low gear when the incline steepened. They climbed the cliff with her mind locked on seeing her daughter.

-------

Diana had answered the phone when Jesse called. After he had told her about Jill and how bad she looked, Diana hesitated for a second, then, "Bring her on if you can, or is that against policy?"

"It's slow this morning and I've told dispatch that I would be escorting her to her destination because she is sick. They'll hold my calls until I go back in service. No problem."

"Come on around to the back with her when you get here," Diana added.

"Will do."

Diana replaced the phone in its cradle and looked around at her family as they recovered in their bedroom, all eyes upon her.

Looking at her husband, who lay on the bed with a new wife snuggled under either arm, Diana told them what Jesse had said.

"Did Bill or Kathy say how long they would be gone to Winter Park?" Jeff asked, his tone serious.

"No. Just that they were going out for Sunday breakfast. We could try their cell. If they're in Winter Park, they'll have a signal."

Jeff thought for a moment, "No, let's wait. Jesse said she looked sick, right? I wonder what's behind that, and if there's any connection to that and her showing up today. Let's talk to her before she sees her husband — ex-husband," he corrected.

"Do you think that she's coming to try and get Bill back?" Arlene asked as she got off the bed looking for her clothes.

"Who knows?" Diana shrugged.

"What about Linda?" Melissa said, frowning.

"As soon as breakfast was over, Evie told me that they were going back to their apartment to make love. She said that Linda's and Kim's soreness was about gone. I told her that we were going to do the same thing. It hasn't been that long. I imagine that they're still busy," Diana replied.

"Well, we should still be," Jennie grumped. "I didn't get my turn."

Arlene turned and looked at her.

"Okay, okay. This is more important," Jennie quickly apologized.

"Baby, you'll be first next time," Diana assured her. Then looking around, "We all need to get dressed. We're going to talk to this woman first. We've heard a lot of bad things about her."

"But we need to hear her side, also," Helen said as she gathered up stray panties and put them in the hamper. "Let's not judge her before we talk to her. It took a lot of spunk to come here. Especially, if she really is sick as Jesse thinks."

"Yeah, you're right, Helen," Diana said as she found Jeff's shorts and threw them to him. "We'll have coffee and doughnuts in the living room when she gets here. We'll be civilized and treat her well. If things go downhill, it will be her that starts it. But I'm telling everyone now; she isn't going to bother Bill, Kathy or Linda. If she starts anything, I'll throw her out on her ass," she said with vehemence.

-------

TWO VEHICLES HAVE ENTERED THE DRIVEWAY, the computer announced as the TV came on in the living room, the camera focusing on the lead vehicle.

DRIVER OF FIRST VEHICLE IDENTIFIED: DEPUTY JESSE GOODMAN.

DRIVER OF SECOND VEHICLE: UNIDENTIFIED, the computer said as the camera focused on Jill through the windshield, the picture almost instantly changing to a crystal clear picture of her.

"My gosh. She's beautiful," Ann said.

"But she looks ill," Caitlin said.

"Computer! Identify driver of second vehicle as Jill Madison," Jeff instructed.

DRIVER OF SECOND VEHICLE: JILL MADISON, the computer acknowledged.

"I don't know if she took her maiden name back or not," Jeff said.

"Whatever name she's going by now doesn't matter. She is going to have problems if she thinks she is going to come in here..." Diana said winding down as Jeff, who was standing beside her, put his arm around her and squeezed.

"This is not really our business..." Jeff started.

"The hell it isn't," Diana instantly replied. "Bill, Kathy and Linda are living here. They're family," she said, Diana's Queen Bitch side coming to the fore to protect what she perceived as her brood.

The computer tracked the two vehicles as they ascended the drive, the Matthews watching as both came to a stop. As Jesse got out to walk back, Jeff said, "Computer..."

But the computer had anticipated and turned the sound up. Jeff frowned wondering when the software had become so sophisticated, but suspected that he knew the two who were responsible. Laura and Helen exchanged a grin behind his back.

When the short conversation between Jesse and Jill was over, Laura spoke up, "Jesse is worried about her."

"I tell you that woman is ill," Caitlin, ever the nurse, insisted. "She's gaunt, her color is wrong and in that last closeup, she looked like she was trembling. That can't be the way she normally speaks."

I've heard that speaking style before,  Jeff thought. She's being so slow and deliberate because she's about to fall over.

"Jesse didn't say what was wrong with her; just that she was sick," Diana said as they watched the vehicles on the big screen. Then a moment later, "I'll meet her out back," Diana surprised no one by saying.

"I'll go with you," Jeff and Caitlin said almost simultaneously and in voices that brooked no objections. Caitlin told Joyce to get her emergency bag, as Jeff looked at his new wife in surprise.

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff, Caitlin and Diana stood on the back steps as Jill and Jesse parked. "Let's go," Jeff said.

Jesse got out as they approached. "I've got a call holding..."

"Go, we'll take care of this," Jeff said, as Deputy Goodman noted the implication of Caitlin holding her bag. "And Jesse..."

Jesse turned back for a second.

"Thanks," Jeff added, with meaning. "And stop by and eat with us tonight."

"Glad to. And thank you," Jesse said. A moment later, he was headed down the drive.

"I'm Diana Matthews. This is my husband, Jeff, and this is Caitlin Hughes," Diana said as Jill opened her door.

"I'm Jill Madison," Jill said coming unsteadily to her feet.

Jeff took one look at her, walked over and scooped her into his arms. "Big house — long walk," was all he said as he started toward the back door with her.

Diana got Jill's keys and purse out of the car and closed the door. Now smiling, she followed her husband with his burden.

"I can walk," Jill tried to indignantly say when she found her voice.

"Hush," Jeff softly chided. "You look like you can barely stand, let alone walk. Valet services," he said, making light and grinning down at her as Diana hurried past to open the back door for them.

A moment later, as they walked down the hall, "Do you need to stop by the bathroom?" Caitlin asked.

"No, I'm fine," Jill answered her, then to Jeff, "I really can walk. Please put me down."

"We're almost there," Jeff replied, feeling the woman trembling in his arms. "Just be calm; you're among friends now."

Caitlin is right,  Diana thought. Jill's color is off, her pallor is noticeable and her jeans and top don't really fit. I doubt if she would buy clothes for herself that fit so poorly. This is the ex-wife of Captain Bill Madison. I don't know what he earns as Frank's pilot, but I would be amazed if it wasn't an excellent salary. Bill said that he took care of her in the divorce. He's an honorable man; I'm sure he did. So why would she be wearing ill-fitting clothes? Those clothes look like they don't even belong to her.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" Diana asked as they passed the kitchen.

Jeff stopped to wait for the answer.

"No," Jill said. "I slept in a parking lot last night. I stopped in a convenience store to ask directions, but I don't..."

"I'll get you something," Diana started.

"I ... can't eat much," Jill hesitantly responded. "But you don't have to..."

"Nonsense," Diana quickly said. "No one comes into our home and stays hungry. We'll make it something light and see what happens," she finished as Laura walked up.

"Fruit juice first," Caitlin instructed. "The fructose will help and she needs the fluid."

"Go on in the living room with her," Laura said. "I'll take care of the food and send one of the girls over with the juice while I fix the rest."

"Thanks," Diana said to her sister-wife, best friend and self-proclaimed handmaiden.

Laura smiled at her and hurried through the kitchen door as Jeff walked on down the hall toward the living room, Jill still in his arms with Diana and Caitlin following.

Jeff sat Jill in a comfortable chair even as Arlene came rushing up with a small glass of orange juice, and carrying a pitcher with more.

"Wait a second on the juice. I want to see what her blood sugar is," Caitlin said. Then to Jill, "I'm a nurse. Have you been eating regularly lately?" knowing from her appearance that she had not.

"Un uh," Jill mumbled. "For the last few days, food won't stay down most of the time."

Caitlin quickly slid a test strip into the reader, pricked Jill's finger with a lance made for the purpose and applied the small droplet of blood to the test strip. The machine beeped once, then five seconds later flashed 52.

Caitlin sighed. "Very low. I'm amazed she's conscious. That's the reason her speech is so slow." Taking the glass of orange juice, she handed it to Jill, who had to grasp it with both hands because of the shaking. "Here, I'll help you with that," Caitlin said as she steadied Jill's hands. "Drink up. It will help. Then we'll get some protein in you that will help keep your blood sugar levels up where they're supposed to be. If we don't follow up with something else, the orange juice will raise your levels, then they will quickly drop again.

"Are you a diabetic?" Caitlin asked a moment later when Jill had finished the juice and shakily handed the glass to Arlene.

"No," Jill finally said, "Not that I know of. The trembling and nausea have been getting worse in the last couple of days, though."

Caitlin, now kneeling beside the woman, expertly grasped Jill's wrist and focused on her (Caitlin's) watch. After a moment, she turned back to her bag for her stethoscope. Listening to Jill's chest and back for a few moments, she looked pointedly at Jeff and mouthed, "Little One."

"Where are my daughter and my husband?" Jill slowly enunciated, speaking to Diana.

Diana glanced at Jeff, who sighed. "Tell her."

Diana took Jill's hand, "Bill and Kathy have gone into Winter Park for breakfast," Diana responded. Then quietly, "Jill, they're married."

Jill looked as if she had been slapped, but after a moment, she sighed and said, "Kathy is a good person," her response now a little quicker as the orange juice began to take effect. After another pause, she frowned, "But how could they be married? Our divorce isn't final, yet. At least, I don't think it is. It's only been a few weeks, hasn't it? I'm all mixed up."

Jill tried to focus. She had forced herself through the trip, the night in the car, and the terrifying drive up the mountain. Those things, in addition to the damage that the drugs had done to her body, accompanied with the sudden withdrawal from those same drugs, had left her weakened body with far less energy than she would have liked.

In addition, Ingles, unknown to her, was now ready to sell her, and had frequently forgotten to tell her to eat or provide food for her.

"What about my daughter, then? Can I please talk to her? I have so much to apologize for ... So many things that he made me do." Her quavering voice steadied for a moment; she was very determined.

"'He? Made' you?" Diana said. "You left your husband... Who made you?"

"Ingles. Doctor Ingles," she said, as if the name itself had a vile taste.

Diana and Jeff passed a look.

"I know. I know," Jill continued. "I'm not trying to defend what I did. I mostly knew what I was doing, it just seemed like it was a dream. I didn't have a will of my own, it's like I wasn't really in control of my body." Big tears rolled down her cheeks as she fought back the sobs.

"How were you not in control of your body?" Jeff asked, already suspecting, as he leaned forward to be closer to Jill, studying her face. Diana knelt beside Jill, on the opposite side from Caitlin and handed Jill a tissue.

Jill took a long shuddering breath. "He ... Ingles bragged that he drugged and hypnotized me. I don't know. It all seems like a dream. Mostly, he kept me in the house without any clothes on. Every now and then, he would let me dress and walk to the grocery store for a few things. He gave me specific instructions. He took me to men ... He did that even when we were in Saint Louis. I stole the leftover grocery money out of the drawer after I managed to palm the drugs for the last couple of days. A preacher and his wife took me in and had my car repaired. I had already stolen forty dollars from a truck driver for gas. I've done despicable things, the stealing probably the least of them. Ingles says I have AIDS. He told me I wouldn't live long. Please let me see my baby," Jill sobbed, her sentences disjointed, her hands now shaking badly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said, her panic spiraling out of control.

"Easy. Easy," Diana said hugging her.

Diana continued trying to shush Jill's crying. "It's all right now. You're among friends. Shsssss. Bill and Kathy will be back soon. We'll get Linda for you," she said, her eyes catching Arlene's.

"I'll get her, Mom," Arlene acknowledged.

"Let's wait on that for a moment," Jeff interjected.

"I wouldn't try to call the company or the police," Jill continued, her voice hesitant and a little unclear. "He told me that he would contact the police if I ever tried to run. I was afraid that someone at Wainwright would call them if I tried to get this number from them. He said that he would tell the cops that I was a mental patient, and they would bring me back to him."

Joyce interrupted, "Ma'am, I'm a police officer, a deputy sheriff. No one will take you from here. You're safe now."

Jill went on, not paying attention, "He said that he would kill me. He's cruel ... He's so..." Her voice trailed off as her sobs drowned out her stumbling words.

Jeff's eyes hardened. "Shit. This whole thing never made any sense. Now, it suddenly does. That son-of-a-bitch needs killing."

Jeff reached past Diana to take Jill's chin tenderly in his hand as he lifted, directing her gaze to his. "Listen to me... Listen to me." When her eyes finally focused on his, "You're safe now like Joyce said. He won't get you again. I promise," he said with feeling. "I promise!"

Jeff had pushed with his last short sentence and he knew by the look on Jill's face that she had felt it. Felt it and ... believed — as he intended.

Relief seemed to flood her. Her eyelids fluttered and she slumped back into the soft chair, her world fading away.

-------

Fred got out of bed, his cock still sticking through the front of his shorts. No way could he hide it from either of them, so he didn't even try, besides, they had been hanging onto it for the last fifteen minutes anyway.

In the bathroom, he managed to pee — finally, but as he stepped into the shower, Jessica got in behind him. He tried to keep his back turned, knowing what she would do, since she had done it before. But she hugged him from the back, reaching around in front of him.

His body reacted as she touched him. Shit, I'm like a fucking teenager. I want to come so bad,  he thought as she slowly stroked his cock.

"Baby," he whispered. "You and your mom are sexy as..." His voice trailed off as she stroked him a little more forcefully, her firm breasts pushing into his back and side as he put an arm around her and snuggled her to him. "Baby, I..."

"Hush," she whispered. "You need relief. Just close your eyes and let me help."

It had only been a few weeks since he had watched Brenda collapse. He felt so guilty in doing this, but the lush young woman with her naked body pressed against him had clouded his mind with desire.

"Let it go, Baby," Jessica said. "We both love you. You love us. Brenda understands. Let it go. Let that big cock spurt."

Brenda, I... 

"I used to do that for you in the shower when we first got married. I'm not mad. Let her help you."

Fred sighed, his body tensing, then trembling to match his throbbing cock. Jessica wasn't doing it perfectly, but she was putting her heart into it. Fred caught his breath, the orgasm seeming to start somewhere behind his eyes. His whole body was soon engulfed as his prostate cramped, his eyes squeezed tighter shut as the release became all-consuming. His cock pulsed in Jessica's hand as the first thick rope of semen shot across the stall to splatter on the shower wall. Then another, and another.

He slumped against the wall as Jessica slowed her strokes, gently milking the last of his sperm from him, his cock slowly coming back from bone hard, but remaining swollen and still sticking out a little from his body.

He hadn't thought that three could get into the shower, but Carla proved him wrong as she leaned in to turn his head and kiss him. Jessica reluctantly let go his cock, then pointed the showerhead toward the wall, giggling.

"I wonder how many women he could have gotten pregnant with that?" she said to her mother.

"Lots," Carla laughed. "Diana says it's an Alpha thing."

"I'm sleepy again," Fred said just before Jessica redirected the shower and started soaping his back.

"Not a chance. You two hurry," Carla said as she got out of the way so they could finish.

-------

Fred, Jessica and Carla sat at the table drinking orange juice. "It just doesn't seem real to wake up in a nice bed with two beautiful women ... Let alone what just happened in the shower."

"Ah, you've been waking up with us for weeks," Carla broke in, "but we appreciate the flattery."

"It isn't flattery. Both of you are beautiful. And yeah, we have been sleeping like that for a while, but I guess I'll never get totally used to it. But what I meant was, such a nice bed in an RV, and we're sitting in a Wal-Mart parking lot," he said as he moved the blackout shade a little to look out at the store.

"Yeah, it does feel weird," Carla agreed.

Fred got up to get a pad and pen. Sitting back down, he pushed his plate aside to give him room to write. "We went mostly after groceries last night, but we need a few other things. The first of which," he said, as he started his list, "is cleaning supplies for all these big windows. I need a squeegee with a long handle to get to the front windshield. And we need some bug removal spray. This is the South. There are more insects than you have ever dreamed of, and a lot of them will become kamikazes as we drive. Plus we're going to Florida. They have mosquitoes as big as bulldozers, so several cans of insect repellant."

Fred thought for a moment, "The dealer gave us enough black water fluid for three flushes of the tank, but we might as well stock up on it while we're here. I'm sure we can buy it at most campgrounds, but no use putting it off. We also need to get some Rubbermaid totes, or whatever brand they have here, to put our coats and heavy clothes in. Soon, we'll be wearing shorts, tee-shirts, and will be sweating. We can put our heavy things in one of the storage areas underneath and free up room in our closets."

"Good idea about the totes," Carla said.

"Flashlight," Jessica said.

"Yeah," Fred agreed, adding it to the list. "Make that several. Wouldn't hurt to get one of those larger rechargeable ones that have a million candlepower like we have on the farm, either. They come in handy sometimes. And a lantern. Probably go with an electric one with LED lights. They're bright and the battery lasts for a long time."

"Speaking of a lantern, aren't we going to want to sit outside some?" Carla asked. "We'll need some folding camp chairs."

"Good idea," Fred said adding to his list.

"I know we have the GPS, but it would be nice to have a map, also. We could hang it on the wall, there," Jessica said, pointing. "Maybe a state map of whatever state we're in at the time. And a road atlas with each state on a page of its own. And a yellow highlighter to mark our route."

"Excellent," Fred said. "And I'm an AAA member. We need to stop by one of their offices and get a travel book for each state we're going to be in. Anything else you can think of for now?" he asked looking at each of the women. When they shook their heads, he added. "Okay, let's get the shopping here done, then we can unhook the car and do some more. I know that you brought a camera, Carla," he said looking at her, "but it's been around for awhile."

"Yeah, we couldn't..."

"I know you couldn't, Sweetheart. That dammed hospital was too busy trying to take every dime you had. But we need to modernize. My Canon EOS 20D is only a couple of years old, and I have several lenses and a bounce flash for it. So I'm okay, but you two need some new equipment. My laptop is still okay, too, but the only computer you have is a desktop at home, and it's been around the bend. So while we're in Atlanta, we'll take care of laptops, too."

"But Fred, we can use your laptop. We don't need..."

"I learned a long time ago to download pictures as soon as possible, even with memory cards that will hold a thousand high resolution pictures. And we'll need some nice screens to view them on — hence the good laptops. We need to make backups, too. So, you two need laptops and a stack of DVDs for backups. We intend to make pictures," he said. "Lots of them. I'm here with two pretty women. By the time we get back, there will be thousands of shots on the laptops. You remember things by taking pictures. Thank God that Brenda and I did just that, but when we got married, you had to do it with film. Still, we took a lot, and now they're invaluable to me. And we need to get a good video camera — a really good one. Those videos will take up room on the hard drives and DVDs."

Carla tried again with, "Baby, one laptop for Jessica and me, then, and one camera. We don't need one for each of us..."

"Bullshit," Fred interrupted. "Let's go and get the things that we need in Wal-Mart, then we can get started with our other shopping."

"But Wal-Mart sells cameras and laptops, too," Carla said, thinking about how much money Fred was going to spend and hoping to save him a little.

"Yeah, they have cameras and computers, even some pretty good ones, but another thing that I learned over the years is to buy where folks specialize. You come out better in the end. Can you picture asking someone at Wal-Mart for advice?"

Both women laughed, then Jessica suddenly frowned. "Where are we going to stay tonight?" she asked.

"Good point. I need to call and make reservations; although, I doubt if they will be anywhere near full this time of year. I've never stayed there, but Brenda and I passed an RV campground that's only a few miles from Callaway Gardens," he finished, opening the Woodall's Campground Directory and thumbing through it for a moment. "Here it is. This has to be the one: Pine View RV Resort. Phone number, address, directions, detailed description. I think we're going to like this book. Hey, there's a CD in the back, also. We'll try it out with your new laptops, later. First, I need to make that phone call," he said as he pulled his cell out.

-------

Later they retracted the slide-out, locked up, unhooked the PT Cruiser and went shopping. First stop, the Canon store. "Why Canon?" Carla asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Truthfully, I guess there are other brands just as good, but I bought a lot of my equipment for my detective agency from this shop. The manager is a 'can do' type of person. When I needed a specialty item, or needed something delivered in a hurry, he didn't argue, just did it. I've spent a lot of money in his place over the years, but all my equipment went with the business when I sold it, of course. But I told the guy that I sold the place to about how they had treated me at the Canon place. So maybe he'll continue to patronize them. I hope so. They've been good to me."

Two hours later, Carla and Jessica, blasted with sticker shock, left the camera store. "Fred," Carla said and odd inflection in her voice, "I know that you wouldn't listen to Jess and me about the cameras, but..."

"Those are the latest professional SLRs," Fred said, waving his hand to indicate the boxes they had just placed in the back of the Cruiser, "and they will do the job for many years to come. Like I said, I have the money, and even if that were not enough, Jeff and Diana are pouring money into my bank account — no matter what I say. I checked my balance before we left the farm, and it had gone up again, strangely, after we told the Matthews that we were going on a trip," he finished, laughing.

"But ... why does he do that? Why did they spend all that money on farm equipment, the silos, everything? Jess and I have tried to talk to Diana about it, let alone, Jeff, but she just hugs us, and says it is nothing. I mean, they slept in sleeping bags on the floor. The women cooked for all those workers. Jeff and Mr. Wainwright worked like dogs — of course, you did, too. I have enough money in the farm account to run the place for years, not to say anything about all the cash that they brought us, and the money that they put in my personal account. Now they've put money in your account, in addition to your, uh, salary. Why? What possible..."

The conversation was interrupted as Fred closed the hatch and they got in the vehicle. Fred started the car and turned the air conditioner on, then turned so that he could continue their conversation. "All I can say is that Jeff and I have been friends for years. I've done him favors; he has done me favors. But with this Alpha thing, he treats me like I'm part of his family. He says that I am family — part of his Alpha family. Hell, I don't know. But I do know that he's serious.

"He tells me that he's worth more now than when he just sold his invention. The companies he bought and this investment guy are making money like they have invented it. And speaking of his invention, that's bringing in money hand over fist. But in answer to your question, I think that Jeff and Diana consider it their responsibility, somehow. Back to this Alpha thing. Diana says that it's a Prime's responsibility to see that his Alphas are taken care of."

"So, she's his Queen, and feels responsible to help take care of the Alpha's wives," Jessica said with sudden insight.

"I see what you mean," Carla said, "But we're not Fred's wives. We are his women..."

"Close enough," Jessica interrupted.

Carla grinned at her daughter, then turned a demure look on Fred. "Yeah, close enough," she said.



-------

Chapter 11

Jeff started to remove Little One from his back as Jill sat slumped in the chair, but Diana put a restraining hand on his arm. "Wait, Baby."

"What? Why?" Jeff said, frowning. "Jill's obviously sick. Little One can get started on her while she's out, or sleeping, or whatever she's doing," he whispered back. "And Caitlin just told me..."

"Her pulse is really high..." Caitlin started.

"Bill and Kathy need to see her like this," Diana broke in. "I think Jill has just fainted from being weak, plus the relief of finally getting here. And yeah, I know there are probably some major things wrong with her. I'm not saying to not treat her, just wait a few minutes. I'll bet there is a real story behind her trip, too. Apparently she has stolen money, and someone has helped her already. Why don't you have Little One read her, or whatever it is she does, but ask her to wait on treating Jill unless there is something immediately life threatening? If someone has drugged and hypnotized her to take her away from Bill, then Bill and Kathy need to see her the way she is — not healed."

Caitlin sighed, realizing Diana's logic, but the nurse in her wanted to do whatever it took to heal Jill — now. She bit her lip, waiting, however.

Jeff took a breath, then slowly let it out. "Yeah, you're right. Hearing a story like that, even with her looking like she had been dragged through a knothole backwards, is going to be hard for Bill and Kathy to swallow. Having a perfectly healthy woman tell that tale..." he trailed the sentence off as he tried to communicate with Little One.

-------

Jeff moved Jill to a couch and covered her with a blanket to conceal Little One while all but Diana left — Caitlin to put her emergency bag away, and the other wives to finish chores. After a while, the Healer pushed the blanket aside, so Jeff returned her to his shoulders with his shirt again covering her. "That was an experience," he laughed to Diana.

"I was afraid you would have a problem with Little One," Diana said.

"Yeah, her purpose in life is to be a healer for Primes — I think. That has boiled down to just me. She's become accustomed to healing anyone that I put her on, though. Telling her to diagnose, but not heal, caused her to send me emotions that I'm not sure I've ever felt before. I'm reasonably certain that my trying to explain to her why we wanted to wait, if we could without endangering Jill further ... well, let's just say that I fell short on my translation.

"I think Little One finally took it on faith, essentially saying that if that's what the Prime wanted, then that's the way it would be. That didn't make me feel really good, but I guess I'll have to live with it. I think she did something to make Jill feel a little better and fixed something so food would digest. Little One said whatever else she did was also critical to do now."

"So, we're just going to sit here and wait for Bill and Kathy to come back?"

"Well, it was your idea," Jeff said, grinning at her. "Got a better one? If we call them and tell them that we need them to come home, they'll be curious — at the least. I think it would just be better to wait. They didn't say anything about going anywhere else, did they?"

"No," Diana said, squeezing his hand, "but they are newlyweds. No telling what they'll decide to do. And sooner or later, the Henson's are going to come up for air," she giggled.

"Oh, shit," Jeff laughed. "That conjures up a picture, all right. One of Dave with his head buried between his wife's legs — any one of them — then him raising up, red-faced, to get a breath of air before diving back to it."

"So, what's wrong with that?" Diana said snuggling closer. "You could be doing the same thing while we wait. Jill looks like she is going to sleep for a while, thanks to Little One."

Jeff couldn't quite decide whether Diana was kidding or not. "Oh, yeah. Great introduction to the Matthews family if she should wake up and catch me eating pussy ten feet away, not to say anything about Kim or Linda coming in. And, we've already been caught by Margaret and Frank."

"Yeah. That was fun. Margaret sounded like one of the girls, the way she was squealing."

The girls aren't the only ones who squeal, Jeff thought, but wasn't foolish enough to say it aloud.

-------

Linda rushed into the living room. "Where's Arlene? I want to ask her some..." she said as she focused on the figure on the couch.

"Mom?" she hesitantly said, then stronger, "Mom!" as she made up her mind that the person lying there really was her mother. Linda threw a questioning look at Diana and Jeff even as her course changed and her rush turned into a lunge for the few steps to get to her mother. Coming to a sliding stop on her knees, she grabbed the awakening woman in a hug.

"Mom. Mom. Oh, Mom! What are you doing here? You've come back to us. Oh, thank God!" Linda exclaimed.

Jill, jarred from the deep Healer-induced sleep by her daughter who was trying to make two people become one with the strength of her hug, fought for clarity of mind to say something, but only managed to mumble, "Baby." Struggling to sit up with the now-sobbing Linda hanging on, Jill almost fell off the couch.

Jeff, watching and fighting back sympathetic tears, thought, I've seen women cry before — many times, but these two could give lessons. And they've carried on a complete conversation without saying half a dozen words,  he marveled as the two held each other sobbing, gasping out each other's names and a brief question or two.

Then, finally, Linda focused, "Where have you been? Why did you divorce Daddy? What happened to you? Why are you so skinny? Are you okay?" Linda machine-gunned the words.

Jeff nudged Diana, shifting his eyes to the TV that had just come on. "Computer! Mute sound," he said a split second before the computer announced the return of Bill and Kathy — this time with only text on the screen, though.

"Oh, my," Diana worried. "Kathy isn't going to take this well. What are we going to do?" she whispered to her husband.

"Search me? Probably, there isn't much we can do except maybe referee a bit."

"It's only been a couple of weeks since the divorce. It isn't final yet, is it?"

"I don't think it can be unless the lawyers have done something on some type of fast track thing. Even then, I would think that it would take longer."

"Well, Jill said she hadn't come here to cause trouble. She just wanted to tell Bill and Linda what happened. But Jeff, if she were drugged and hypnotized, then she was an unwilling participant in everything, including the divorce. Oh, crap. This complicates things. Would the judge nullify his divorce ruling when he finds out what happened? Do they do anything like that?"

"Well, I don't know. From what we've seen on TV lately, judges — at least some of them — do most anything they want to. It might take an agreement by both Bill and Jill to change things, or the better part of six months for the divorce to become final if they do nothing. And who says that Bill will want to stop it — hell, or Jill, for that matter. She seemed to accept the responsibility for her own actions in the same breath that she said she was drugged and hypnotized."

"If she's even telling the truth," Diana interjected.

"Well, I'm not as good at it as Quinton or Fred, but I didn't feel anything from her that felt like a lie. I think she's telling the truth. And if she is, well ... this Doctor Ingles has some answering to do. And I'm not talking about suing him or having him arrested — well, at least by conventional means," he mysteriously said. "But this still doesn't make sense. Well, it does in a way. But there's got to be a lot more to it."

After a moment, "She's a beautiful woman," he said as they watched mother and daughter, a little calmer, now quietly talking, "but Ingles risked a lot by drugging her. There's bound to be more to this. We'll just have to wait and get the whole story, at least as much of it as Jill knows. Then we'll go from there."

-------

Buying the laptops didn't take as long as purchasing the cameras. Fred knew what he wanted and the women deferred to him.

"We can use the Internet and a word processor, plus keeping our farm records with the computer at home, but we know very little about laptops," Carla said.

Back in the car just before he pulled out of the parking lot, Fred turned so that he could talk to the women. "I don't know whether you two want to go with me or not. I can drop you by the RV..."

"Brenda's grave," Carla broke in as she figured out what he was going to say. "And of course we want to go with you. We wouldn't have it any other way."

"We're definitely going with you," Jessica said as she leaned forward to touch Fred's shoulder.

"Good. Thank you. You two being with me will make it easier. First, I need to stop by the florist, though. She always loved roses..." he said chopping the sentence off before the lump in his throat made his voice break.

But then there was a bump in Fred's road.

Brenda, this is going to be hard on me,  Fred thought.

"Hard on you? What about me? I vote no. Give the roses to your women. I don't want to go anywhere near the graveyard where my body is buried. Let's get started toward Callaway Gardens."

A frown creased Fred's forehead as he thought, Brenda, I have to go visit your grave. I buried my soul mate there...

"You buried my body there. Not my soul. I still have that ... Well, at least, I think I do. I can't see myself, and I can't go anywhere, but I'm still me. Well, sort of. I first thought I was just a memory in your mind, then I became stronger. But, whatever I am, I know that I don't want to visit my grave."

Brenda, Baby, I've got to do this... 

"All right. But don't expect me to like it. How would you like to look at your grave?"

"What did she say?" Jessica questioned. "We know that you've been talking to her."

"You don't want to know," Fred tried.

"Bullshit," Carla said. "Out with it."

"She doesn't want to go to the cemetery."

"Well, that's a no-brainer," Carla said, stifling a giggle. "So we're not going?"

"Yes, we're going. I have to go. It wouldn't be right to be this close and not go."

"So, she isn't pleased?" Jessica asked, grinning at her mother out of Fred's sight.

"I don't want to talk about it," Fred said as he started the Cruiser.

"So we're going to Wal-Mart to buy roses?" Carla said just to tease.

Fred caught on that they were messing with him, but answered truthfully. "I'm going to the flower shop where I always bought her roses. They have the best ones that I've ever found."

-------

A few minutes later, Fred walked out of the shop with two dozen red roses in a large vase. After wedging them in the back so they wouldn't fall over, he went back into the store. Returning a moment later carrying two separate vases, each containing a dozen roses, he handed a vase of flowers to each of the women.

"I couldn't forget you two," he said.

That got him kisses and smiles.

Thirty minutes later, a somber group got out of the car at the cemetery. Fred, deep in thought, opened the hatch and took out the large vase, turning toward where he knew Brenda's grave was. The women gave him a moment, then followed carrying their vases also, intending to give him some alone time at the grave, but Fred stopped and waited for them.

"What are you doing with your flowers?" he asked. "I gave those to you. I have Brenda's flowers."

"We discussed it," Carla said. "We appreciate the flowers, but we want to give them to Brenda."

Fred looked at them for a second, fighting back tears. "Okay," he said. "That's good." Turning away, he walked on.

At the grave, Fred knelt and placed the roses in a holder made for that purpose.

"Fred! Stand up. I don't like being this close to my body," Brenda said in his mind.

Baby I... 

"Get up, Fred. I can feel my body. Please move back. I don't like this."

There were tears on Fred's face as he stood and quickly backed up a couple of steps.

"What's wrong?" both women instantly asked.

"Baby, are you okay?" Carla added as she saw his ashen face. "If you need to be alone, we'll go back to the car. Just let us put our flowers by the grave.

"I don't want to be here," Brenda said, her mental voice becoming frantic.

"Go ahead and put your roses down if you want to," Fred said.

"It's Brenda isn't it?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah, she doesn't like it here," he understated as he wondered how to comfort the hysterical woman in his mind.

"Please, let's go," Brenda begged. "I don't want to be in that hole in the ground. Please, let's go. I'm afraid."

Fred walked several steps away from Brenda's grave and waited for the women to put the flowers down.

"Please, Baby."

Fred turned and walked quickly back toward the Cruiser. Carla and Jessica looked at each other. "Well, that went well — not," Jessica said as mother and daughter knelt with their flowers.

"Yeah," Carla said as her eyes followed the retreating Fred. "Let's hurry. I think I need to drive."

"You think you can find where our RV is parked?" Jessica said.

"Fuck no. I'm lost, but Fred can direct me. I just don't trust him to drive right now."

"Second that," Jessica agreed. "I thought he was going to faint."

-------

Back at Wal-Mart, they transferred their purchases to the RV and reattached the PT Cruiser.

When they were inside, Carla started them a pot of coffee. Fred sat at the table waiting for the women, saying little. When the coffee was ready, the women put out cups, poured, then sat with him.

"I'm sorry," Fred sighed. "Hell, I've been less shook after a gunfight..."

"How is Brenda?" Carla broke in. "Is she okay?"

"She's still with me, if that's what you mean," he answered.

"Tell them that I'm fine. But that's an experience I never want to go through again," the voice in Fred's mind said.

Fred repeated what Brenda had said.

"Yeah, I can just imagine," Jessica said. Then, "We're sorry, Brenda. I guess none of us really thought what it would be like for you. But Fred was trying to do right," she finished, defending him.

"I know," Brenda answered in his mind. "It was far worse than I expected it to be. Far worse."

After he had shared that too, they sat drinking their coffee and wondering what to say, then, "Get your camera out, Fred. We need to take a picture of our first 'campground' in the RV. The batteries have just started charging in our new cameras, so we can't use them yet."

Fred forced himself to chuckle, tearing his mind away from the thoughts of his frantic wife at the graveside. There, for the first time, her emotions had come across almost as if they belonged to him. Her terror had shaken him to his core. Getting up, glad to have his mind on something else, he retrieved his camera and handed it to Jessica.

"I don't know how to do it. You do it. I don't know anything about this camera."

"If you're going to take a picture inside, we'll put the bounce flash on, but if you're going to take a picture outside, then the automatic setting will be good enough, and there will be no need of the flash," he said, showing her how to set the camera. "Just use the viewfinder. What you see through the lens is what you will get. As soon as you take the picture, it will show up on the screen for a couple of seconds. Just push the shutter button half way for the camera to focus, then the rest of the way to take the picture. I'll show you how to use the manual settings while we're at Calloway Gardens. Just remember that it costs nothing to take pictures with a digital, so take plenty."

Jessica took the camera and went outside, walking several hundred feet away from the RV so that she could get the RV and the Wal-Mart store in the same frame.

"She's smart," Brenda said in his mind, "and pretty, too."

Not as pretty as you.

"Liar," she giggled. "But I like to hear it anyway. Oh, by the way, I love you."

-------

Bill and Kathy drove into the back lot and stopped beside Jill's vehicle. Kathy immediately sensed something from her Alpha. "Bill, what's wrong, and whose car is that?" she worriedly asked.

Madison glanced at her and sighed. "It's Jill's."

"But what is she doing here? She left you for that ... that scumbag doctor."

Bill sat quiet for a moment, then, "Fuck," he said as he pushed his door open hard.

Kathy hastily got out and met him as he came around the back of the SUV, where he suddenly stopped to take her in a hug. After a moment, he pushed back a little to look at her troubled face. "Get rid of that expression," he said as he gently kissed her. "You are my wife. Nothing is going to change that."

"But you still love her. I can't help being a little scared."

"I can't understand why she is here," Bill said as they started slowly walking toward the back door, arm in arm. "She got basically everything she wanted in the divorce, at least the first agreement. She didn't get custody of Linda like she suddenly wanted — or that asshole of a boyfriend of hers wanted. Hell, it's only been a couple of weeks. Is their honeymoon over already?"

"Who knows," Kathy said, her arm tightening around him. "But I'm worried. She's too good looking — almost not real. I can't compete with that."

Just before opening the back door to the mudroom, Bill turned her to face him again. "And you don't have to compete with her. Now this little discussion is going in circles. Let's just go find out what she wants. Probably her scumbag has decided that I should give them more money."

As they stepped into the hallway, they met Diana standing there, her hands clasped low in front of her, her demeanor — reserved. "I guess you saw her car?" she said.

"Yeah. I recognized it. At first I couldn't believe it, but I put her vanity tag on myself. What's she doing here?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"She's in the living room with Linda and Jeff right now. My sister-wives, Jeff and Linda are the only ones who know she is here yet."

"Well, we'll soon get this..."

"No," Diana interrupted, forcefully. "First,  we — the three of us — need to go in the kitchen, have a cup of coffee and discuss some things." Then hurriedly before Bill could interrupt, "If you go in there now, guns blazing, you're going to make a big mistake. I almost did the same thing, but my husband saved me from it."

"Diana — respectfully — I need to get this handled. She's probably back to get more money — or Linda..."

"She's back to die!" Diana snapped.

Bill felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on his soul.

Diana continued, unabated, "Now let's go sit down where I can tell you what we've learned, and allow Jill some more time with her daughter. Jeff's in there just in case. Although she certainly isn't going to, if she should even mention something like you've just brought up, Jeff will come down on her with both feet. But taking Linda isn't an option for her. Now come on," she finished, grabbing a stunned Bill and starting for the kitchen. "Come on, Kathy. You're in this just as much as anyone," Diana threw over her shoulder.

A few minutes later, Diana, Kathy and Bill sat at the kitchen table, Diana being the only one who had even touched the coffee.

"Crap, this is hard to believe. Her gynecologist leaves and she chooses one in the same building? Okay, I can understand that. But he drugs her and hypnotizes her? That's a stretch..."

Kathy found herself defending Jill. "But you talked so much about her personality, as you referred to it, suddenly changing. She wouldn't make love with you; she picked fights. It got steadily worse while you did everything you could to turn things around."

Bill stared at her.

"I know what you're thinking," Kathy said, "but, do you know why I only came over to your house a few times? Oh, Jill and I got along fine, but I had fallen in love with you almost from the beginning. You two were so obviously deeply in love. I wanted to be with you. Heck, I loved our cookouts, and Jill was fast becoming a true friend. I just knew if I kept up the visits that Jill would notice that I was in love with you, too. So I started making excuses when you, or she, invited me over."

"You loved me back then?" Bill quietly asked.

"Yeah, almost from the first. You just didn't notice because you were being so true to her." Kathy sighed. "That didn't come out the way I meant for it to sound. Your being so obviously true to her was a good thing, even when I didn't want it to be."

Kathy smiled at Bill while he thought about what she had just said. "You, and even Linda, have talked so much about how Jill suddenly, and very drastically, changed. Maybe she's telling the truth, Bill. Oh, God, what am I saying? If she is telling the truth, then ... where does that leave me — us?"

"Then — nothing. You're my wife. And besides, I'm not convinced about any of this. I need to talk to her."

Diana spoke up. "She's — fragile, Bill. Really fragile. She used up all her strength to get here. We've only heard a little; just a brief synopsis in the beginning, then what she's told Linda while they've been sitting there crying. All of it is in bits and pieces — disjointed. But she's very sick. Jill thinks she is dying, and that might be true. She looks awful and Caitlin was pretty wound up about it."

Bill glanced at Kathy, then back to Diana. "Diana, we've talked about this, well, you Jeff and I. We all know that Jeff has some type of invention that has done miracles with our bodies. So why doesn't Jeff just heal her the way he did Joyce, and we'll send Jill on her way?"

"Jeff did use the he ... uh, the process to stabilize her, but we wanted you to see Jill the way she is. If she had been in good health, her story would not be ... Oh, hell, Bill, you just need to see her and talk to her. But we thought I should prepare you. If you should go in there yelling at her, there is no telling the effect it would have on her. She's really fragile — really."

Diana hesitated for a second, "Then there's Ingles to deal with."



-------

Chapter 12

Bill Madison frowned. "If this guy, this asshole doctor, really did this — is really responsible for ... Oh, shit. That means — if it's true..." he hesitated, his voice stumbling, "then he raped her. Hell, if she were drugged and couldn't stop him, then it is rape."

"I think there's a lot more to it than that," Diana sighed. "She mentioned that he took her to men. She also said that she has AIDS, or at least that's what Ingles told her."

"AIDS? Took her to men?" Kathy said, the blood draining from her face.

"Yeah. And about the men, from the way she said it, I think she meant that he was selling her to them. Making her prostitute herself," Diana answered.

"He prostituted my wife? That son-of-a-bitch. I'll kill that bastard," Madison said, standing. Then, "You believe her — what she says?" he asked staring hard at Diana.

"I do. Jeff does. My sister-wives do. Jeff says she's not lying. Anyone who hears her would believe her."

"Shit," Bill said as he turned for the door, but suddenly he spun back around to face Kathy. Putting his hand out, he said with a sick grin on his face, "First thunderstorm in our flight, I guess," referring to their marriage. "Let's go talk to my ex-wife and see what we can do about it."

"She's not your ex," Kathy said standing, but taking his hand, anyway. "If she were forced into this, then she's still your wife as far as I'm concerned."

It was a somber group that walked down the hall to the living room. What am I going to say to her? Bill thought. If Jill were forced to do this, where does that leave me with Kathy? I'll stick with her of course. I gave my word. I love her, but I still love Jill, too — God, even more so now that I've heard what's happened to her. It makes me sick to my stomach.

A worried Kathy walked beside him.

Diana had already figured it out, but knew it wasn't time yet.

They walked into the living room, stopping to look at mother and daughter sitting practically glued to each other.

"My God," Bill blurted aloud as he stared at his wife. Then silently, she was thin when we were at the attorney's office, but not like this. How could she lose weight this quickly?

Jill, hearing his voice, looked fearfully toward him. After a moment, she leaned forward putting her face in her hands — and sobbed.

-------

In the Wal-Mart lot, Jessica came back in and sat down at the table with Fred and her mother.

"How did the pictures go?" Fred asked with a smile.

"Okay, I guess. I took about ten shots to make sure I got just the right one, but I want you and Mom to sit up front while I take your pictures through the windshield."

"Hmmm," Fred said. "Hand me my camera case. Do you know anything about filters?"

"In a word," Jessica laughed, "no. Oh, I read something about them in school, and I've glanced through photography magazines, but I don't really know anything," she said as she reached over to retrieve Fred's large camera bag that was sitting beside her.

"I probably know less than she does," Carla said as she got up to refresh her daughter's coffee.

Fred unzipped a small compartment on one side of the camera bag, took out a plastic case. Opening it, he showed the filter to the two women. "These are simple things to use. But look closely," he said holding the filter out and turning one half of it. The filter is really two sections. The front section remains free to turn after the filter is screwed into the camera lens.

"This is called a circular polarizer. Linear polarizers won't work properly on SLRs because they will confuse the auto focus, or other auto features of the cameras, so we always use this type. Anyway, a polarizing filter works like polarized sunglasses, except better, since you can rotate the polarizer to achieve the best results. Without going into detail about the properties of a polarizer — not that I know a lot about the subject, anyway — you simply screw it on the camera lens," he said, demonstrating, "then, since you're actually looking through the lens in an SLR camera such as this one, you just focus on your subject and rotate the filter until you get the best image you can.

"They're good for cutting down reflections when taking pictures of the ocean, lake, or say, taking pictures of animals at the zoo when they're behind glass. They can also darken a sky to make it look bluer, enhance the contrast in dark areas ... Lots of things look better through a polarizer. The down side is that you lose a little light through the filter, so you have to drop down a couple of F-stops to compensate, but left on auto, the camera will take care of that for you."

Jessica grinned at him. "So, let's pretend that this is a zoo. You two sit up front by the windshield, and I'll take your pictures through the glass," Jessica laughed as Carla swatted at her rear.

Jessica took the camera and went back outside as Fred raised the window screens. When Fred and Carla sat in the front, Carla smiled over at him. "She's having a good time. She hasn't joked around much since Sam died."

"You seem more relaxed, too," Fred commented, smiling back at her. "You look damn good, too."

"Thanks, but I guess Jeff's invention has a lot to do with that, also. I owe him, and you, more than I can ever repay."

"Bullshit. We both know that Jeff's dragging my fat ass out to the retreat, then my getting involved with you two," he said, nodding out the window to Jessica, "are the reasons that I didn't eat my gun. I didn't have anything to live for — now I do."

"You damn sure do," Carla said as she waved to Jessica who was standing about fifty feet from the RV making some kind of motion to them. "She's fallen hard for you — and I have too. Diana says a woman can't resist an Alpha if he notices them and thinks sexual thoughts. She says that you have called us to be your mates, both with your mind and your pheromones. Have you learned to control those hormones, or are we going to have a harem to take back with us?" she half-joked.

Fred stared at her for a moment, almost joking back at her, when the seriousness of her expression changed his mind. Sighing, his train of thought momentarily distracted as Jessica came back inside, he said, "Jeff talked to me. I guess, other than the two of you, I haven't looked at another woman while thinking anything remotely like sex. I've been grieving too much about Brenda. But, well, it's been impossible to ignore — whatever the term is — you two. We've worked so hard together, cried together, slept and then bathed together."

"Fred," Carla interrupted, "we're yours, both of us. And we both think that you love us."

Jessica, who had been standing close by listening, put the camera on the dash and sat in Fred's lap. "Tonight. We've waited as long as we can. I'm so happy. I miss my dad, but he's not coming back. I wish I had waited so that I could have given you my virginity, but I didn't. I don't know much about sex, but I'll work hard to learn," she said, very serious.

Fred started to laugh, but thought better of it. "Virginity, doesn't matter, Baby," he very seriously said. "All that matters is that you love me. And yeah, I love both of you. And,  I doubt that there is a man alive that wouldn't want to teach you about sex. If there is, then he's a fool." After kissing her lightly on the nose, "Now how did the pictures turn out?" he asked as he and Carla locked eyes for a moment, mentally tabling their discussion.

"They look okay on the camera screen, but can we put them on the laptop and see what they really look like? The camera screen is too small to show detail."

"Sure. Get yours and we'll upload, or download, or whatever you want to call it. I can never remember which is correct. Anyway, see what they look like on a high-res screen."

As they sat in the living room to wait as Jessica got her new laptop, Carla said, "So our laptops have a better screen than yours? That makes me think that you need to take my new laptop and I'll use yours. I'm feeling guilty enough about this as it is."

Fred laughed out loud. "Your new laptops have a little better — and a little bigger screen — big deal. I now have hardly any use for a computer at all. You two have been doing all the farm/ranch accounting. I don't need to write anyone; I just pick up my cell if I want to talk to them."

"We don't do much bookkeeping for the ranch, anymore," Jessica said as she put her new laptop on the table and plugged it in. "The Matthews' accountant takes care of most of it, as you know. Now come on and show me how to upload my pictures," she admonished.

They spent the next thirty minutes viewing and critiquing Jessica's pictures. "These are really good," Fred said, meaning it, "but what are these two thumbnails here that are totally black?" Fred asked, grinning, knowing they were two very drastically underexposed pictures.

Jessica just grinned back at him. "That's when I experimented with one of the manual settings. I had the F-stop way too high. See how the next several get better?"

"I like this one with just the front portion of the RV in the right foreground and the store in the background. Your mom and I are a lot clearer through the windshield than I would have expected. Your depth of field is just right to show both the store and the RV. This wasn't on automatic either, was it?" he asked.

Jessica grinned, "No, I was getting a little better with the manual settings by then."

"I've taken plenty of pictures of people in vehicles when I owned my business. Pictures through a car window, particularly when you have to do it in a hurry, can become an iffy situation. Well done, Jessica."

Jessica tried to play it down, but it was obvious that his compliment touched her. "I really like the effect of the polarizer," she said. "Look how much bluer — and clearer — the sky looks behind Wal-Mart in this one," she said as she hit PgDn on the laptop.

Carla interrupted from the galley with, "How about a fried bologna sandwich with tomatoes and lettuce?"

"How many do you have?" Fred laughed.

"As many as you want. If we run out of the fixings, Wal-Mart is fairly close," she laughed.

"Okay. I'll start out with three," Fred said.

"How many do you want, Baby?" Carla asked her daughter.

"Two," Jessica said as she got up to help.

"Then we need to roll," Fred said.

"And, just what's the hurry?" Carla laughed.

Fred thought for a second, then, "Good question," he said, laughing. "Good question. We're on vacation." Then, "There's no hurry at all."

-------

Bill walked to the couch, but never remembered the few steps. Tentatively, he reached down to lift his wife's face as she wiped absently at her tears with the wad of tissue she had in her hand.

"Daddy, please don't be mad at her," Linda said. "She couldn't help what she did. He made her say things — made her do horrible things..."

"Is this true ... what you've told the Matthews about being drugged and hypnotized?"

Jill looked up at him as she tried to stop her crying. "I think so. He bragged to me and to a couple of men that he did it. I know that I always did what he said. I tried not to; you will never know how hard I tried, but whatever he told me to do, I did. A couple of times, he didn't tell me in enough detail, I guess. I did what he said, but not exactly what he wanted. He punished me. Uh, he shocked me with this thing, I guess it was a stun gun; it knocked me out. And he had this other thing. It was longer and I think it was a cattle prod. He used that on me until I wet myself and passed out. I don't know. Everything is a blur. But that was later. I remember going to his office, well to the examination room, but from then on, I just remember a few things about the visit. It's like a dream," she finished, her voice hopeless.

Bill, still standing in front of her, started to say something when she went on, "I didn't come back to interrupt your lives. Diana told me that you and Kathy are married. That's as it should be, I guess. I divorced you. She's a fine person. Linda said that Kathy has her commercial pilot's license and is flying as your co-pilot.

"I swear that I only came back to tell you what happened and to see my baby. I've done that now," she said, struggling to her feet. "Ingles said that I wouldn't live long, and I guess he's right. I think the withdrawal from his drugs is making it quicker. I feel strange. I'm leaving now. I'll find a place to live that's close enough to maybe come visit my baby again, if I'm able. Please forgive me Bill. I've always loved you — always will. But I'm trash now. Linda says that she already has forgiven me..."

Bill bent to pick her up, then sat with her on his lap. She struggled to get away, but he held her. She's weak,  he thought as he overcame her strength with hardly a thought, though her efforts left her breathless. Linda moved to sit close to him, leaving Kathy to stand near them.

When Linda realized, she stood up and moved to the other side, lifting her mother's legs and sliding under them to snuggle to her father and hold her mother's legs across her lap.

"Here," Bill directed Kathy, who remained tentative nearby. "Sit here my wife," he said reaching to pull her down beside them. "We're going to work this out together."

Kathy sat and allowed Bill to pull her close, Jill's face buried against Bill's shoulder right beside Kathy's face. She looked up to see Jeff and Diana still there with her sitting in his lap, tears on her face, Jeff not looking much better.

Kathy could hear Bill whispering soothing things in Jill's ear as the woman quietly cried, could feel her body shudder against her own shoulder as they all sat touching. Kathy and Diana made eye contact and Diana didn't look away. After a moment, Diana seemed to nod as if to say, "Do it."

The answer was here — here in this house. Maybe somewhere else, she would never have considered it. She had never thought about sharing a man. A couple of her girlfriends in college had laughed about having a threesome. She had thought it was gross at the time. After coming up here and seeing Jeff's wives sharing him, then the marriages ... She had still thought it wasn't for her, but what choice did she really have?

I like Jill. She has always been good to me, made me feel welcome at their home. But, can I really share Bill with her?

Kathy glanced at Diana again, but now the Queen Bitch's face reflected ... amusement, Kathy thought. Diana mouthed something to her. It looked like she had said, "Go for it."

Kathy realized that her hand had been stroking Jill's back. She leaned closer to Jill's pretty ear. "Jeff has something that will heal you. Joyce was in the hospital dying a week ago. Jeff did something and they let her go home the next day. He did something to me. I look younger and feel unbelievably well. Look at your husband. He looks years younger."

"Ingles told me I have AIDS. I..." Jill whispered.

Jill started to rise up, but suddenly focused on Linda's hand. "Baby, those rings. My God, they're..."

"I'm married, Mom," Linda said, knowing the fireworks were about to begin.

"You're married?" Jill said struggling to sit up so she could grasp her daughter's hand. "What? Who? I didn't even know you had a boyfriend. Who is he? You're not going to drop out of school? How about him; is he still in school?" she said in a rush.

"Mom, we'll talk about this later," Linda said, worried about her mother. "Just take it easy. You'll be proud of me when you understand everything."

"Oh, Baby. I've always been proud of you, but you're only ... Oh, crap, I missed your birthday. That bastard made me miss your sixteenth birthday. I'm so sorry. I missed my daughter's wedding," she gasped. "Oh, my," she said, her body shaking, her voice barely above a broken whisper.

Then, "Where's your husband? Oh, God. You're not old enough to be married..."

Diana had already sent Helen to tell Dave, Evie and Kim that Jill was here and brief them on what was going on. But she had asked them to wait for a while before coming into the living room. She thought it was time now, so got up to go to the door, then down the hall to where she knew they were waiting. But Diana and her sister-wives were becoming bonded more and more. Even before she reached the door, Helen walked in with the others.

"Diana, their multiple marriage is going to be an awful big shock to her," Jeff quietly said when she returned to his lap.

"The woman is tough," Diana responded. "Plus I have faith in Little One."

"Mom," Linda said, making up her mind as she took her mother's face in her hands. "There's a lot you don't understand yet. You used to say that you trusted me, back before that ... piece of shit," she vehemently said, "did this to you. Remember telling me that? Do you still trust me? Really trust me?"

"Sure I do, Baby. But what are you talking about?"

"Say you trust me and make me believe you mean it?" Linda insisted, reaching over to stroke her mother's cheek again.

"Baby, I do trust you, but what..."

"This is important, Mom. Make me believe that you trust my judgment."

Jill hesitated for a moment, knowing that something important was happening, but with all the stress, all the things that had happened, her mind still muddy from the drug withdrawal, her weakness and everything else, she tried to focus. "I trust you, Baby. But what..."

"Make me believe it, or I'm going to get up and leave the room."

"Maybe not right now," Bill interrupted to say to his daughter. "Maybe you should wait."

"Yes, now," Linda said as she glanced at her husband who stood waiting. "It'll only be worse later."

Then, "This is something big, Momma. And it was my decision. Now you used to brag on me, said you trusted my judgment. Was that a lie?"

Jill tried to sit up straighter, but she was weak. Sighing, she said, "No I wasn't lying. You've always been smart and levelheaded. I trusted you then, and I do now."

"Good..." Linda said hesitating, "for this is my husband, Dave, and my sister-wives, Evie and Kim," she said, pointing to each in turn. "I'm sorry to hit you with this now, but I'm not going to lie to you or try to cover it up."

"My goodness. He must be thirty years old," Jill underestimated, unconsciously saying in a whisper. Sister-wives,  she thought. She's married to a man twice her age that already has two wives. She's married a Mormon.

Jill's eyes drifted closed as her mind and body, already overloaded before the last shock, lost the fight. Bill's strong arms holding her made her feel warm and protected at last. She had missed that so much. Sighing, she succumbed to the terrible fatigue as her mind shut out stimulus, and she slept.

Jeff stood. "Okay, Jill knows. She's told us about all she can with her so weak. While you've got her in your arms," he said to Bill, "let's get her to bed."

"She can use my old bed in that beautiful suite you decorated for Kathy and me," Linda said to Jeff.

"Sounds good," Jeff said, then as Bill stood with Jill in his arms. "This will take several hours, at least, and I'll have to be there alone with her. You okay with that, Bill?"

Bill tried to joke, "Hmmm, my wife and our Prime are going to be alone together in a bedroom." Our Prime? Where did that come from? he thought.

"Diana can stay with us if you like," Jeff added as they started down the hall.

Bill glanced at Jeff as they walked, "Don't be absurd. Just heal her — whatever it is that you do — just heal her, please. Then I want to talk to you about going after this guy. I'm sorry, I never thought I would say this, but I don't want to leave this to the cops. I can't imagine making Jill tell this on a witness stand; besides, this asshole is a doctor. He'd probably get off, anyway."

As they reached the suite, Jeff held the other door open for Bill to walk through with his burden, then on through the bedroom door that was already standing open. Jeff quickly got in front of Bill and pulled the spread down on the bed.

"Do I need to take her clothes off?" Bill asked.

"No," Jeff said aloud, then mentally, Dammit, I almost said that Little One would remove what clothing she needed. This is really getting to be a drag to keep from saying the Healer, or Little One. I'm going to have to talk to the General. "No, just slip her shoes off. This will take a while, but please don't try to come in and ask me how it is going. She will be healed, completely, but it might take more than one session. But, guaranteed, when she wakes up, she will be drastically better, if not completely healed."

"But what if she does have AIDS like Ingles told her? There isn't a cure for that," Bill said as he removed Jill's shoes and stood looking at his wife.

"Bill, I can't talk to you about this. Hell, I'm way, way past what I should be talking about, but circumstances have caused many things to be revealed. It would take a complete idiot not to notice when people become younger, when head trauma is healed — well everything. But I still can't talk about it, so please, let's cut this conversation short. And before you ask, I'll sit in that chair over there while things are going on. And, I don't give a crap what's wrong with her; she will be healed."

Bill stood for a moment, then, "Jeff, if you had said that I needed to remove her clothes, they would be gone by now. I trust you more than you probably realize. I just don't know how to thank you. I..."

Jeff laughed, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. "To use one of my much-teased-about Southern expressions, you're going to have a rough row to hoe, well, for a while, anyway. I'm not much on giving advice to other guys about their marriage, but I think we both agree about the rough row. Might want to spend the next few hours reassuring that feisty copilot of yours. In other words, go fuck her brains out," Jeff laughed. "And turn on the pheromones while you do it. Now get out of here so we can get started."

Bill stood looking at Jeff for a moment, then without saying anything, clasped his shoulder for a second and walked out of the room.

After the door closed behind Bill, Jeff removed Little One from his shoulders, lifted Jill's top and put the Healer on her belly. The blue glow came on and Jill settled into a deeper and more restful sleep.

Jeff sat on the side of the bed and watched for a while, then put his hand on Little One. Before he could speak, {{{ As I understand your conversations, someone has forcefully given this person chemicals to make her mind more susceptible to commands. These chemicals and even worse, their sudden withdrawal, have wreaked havoc with her body. She is dehydrated and she hasn't been digesting what little food she has consumed. Her nervous system is drastically compromised as well.

I am going to speed up, for a time, the processes that control weight gain. I am also going to replenish her energy without her having to eat or her body process the food to gain that energy. It would be much better if we had access to the healing chambers of my ship, but I have learned, and ... expanded myself, and my capabilities. I will need several of your ... hours to initiate the healing process, then in a few ... days, I must do this again. }}}

What about the AIDS? Jeff thought to Little One.

{{{ Are you referring to the ... virus as you call it that affects the immune system? It's of no consequence. I have already corrected that when you placed me on her in your living room. }}}

Jeff sat on the side of the bed, his hand still on Little One as he translated the emotions, images and now partial thoughts that the Healer was sending him. Had he understood everything she was sending? He knew he, at least, had the gist of it. But was AIDS that easily cured? If so, then why hadn't the pharmaceutical companies already cured it? Well, I guess that is a no-brainer he thought. They don't want to shoot their cash cow.

{{{ Prime. There is something else I wish to discuss with you. }}} Little one interrupted his thoughts.

Uh, sure,  he responded, wondering when she had started using names, let alone calling him Prime.

{{{ From what I understand from your conversation with this person, and from my examination of her, I need to make you aware of some things so that I may properly ask for direction. Her sexual apparatus, her vagina as you refer to it, and her womb has been ... abused. Something foreign has been inserted into her, something so rigid that it tore flesh. She is partially healed, but there was great damage when it happened. She could never have a child again because of this. The females from the race I served would have been mentally traumatized greatly by such, and I can certainly feel that this female is also. At this point in time, I can do little to adjust her mind. The ship can, but I dare not even try. }}}

Jeff shifted on the bed, uneasy, as Little One paused. Then there was a flood of emotion from the Healer.

{{{ I am deeply troubled about this female. I can heal her body but ... given a day, I can induce her body to regrow her sexual organs, completely. This, of course, won't make the mental trauma go away, but all physical evidence will be wiped from her — completely. She won't just be healed; that part of her body will be as it was before she ever had sex the first time. }}}

Do it,  Jeff instantly said, having sudden insight as he continued to feel the raw emotions from Little One. But this shouldn't be a surprise to her. That in itself might also be a shock,  he understated. I'll have Bill, or one of the women explain to her what's happening when she wakes up. Will there be any discomfort... 

{{{ No. She will be unaware of the process as it goes along, but she cannot have sex until this time tomorrow. It might also be traumatic if she should try to ... explore herself during the time of growth. When it is finished, she will be as a young, untouched, woman in that area. The age regression for the rest of her body will depend on what she wants to look like, just as it works for the rest of you, and will take much longer to reach a steady-state. }}}

Do it,  Jeff reiterated. Then to himself, How in the fuck am I going to tell Bill about this? I don't think I want to start talking to him about his wife's pussy. Yep, this is going to be a job for Diana.



-------

Chapter 13

Jeff sat in a comfortable chair in Linda's old bedroom while Jill slept and Little One worked on her. The door quietly opened and Diana peeked in, then pushed a serving cart through.

"Are you hungry?" she whispered as she neared Jeff.

Jeff smiled at her. "You don't have to whisper. A bolt of lightning could strike the retreat and Jill would sleep on."

"Well, good," his wife answered in a normal voice. "It is way past lunchtime, so while the others are eating, we can as well," she said as she put out two plates on a small table nearby. Jeff moved two chairs over as Diana paused to glance at the bed. "How is it going?"

Jeff sighed. "I need to unload on someone..."

"I'm your wife," Diana instantly said as she picked up on his emotions.

"Put the food out, then we'll talk as we eat."

A few minutes later, husband and wife sat at the small table and automatically held hands while Jeff said a short prayer of thanks for the food, then included Jill.

Diana, stunned as Jeff's emotions boiled across her as if from an overturned caldron, shakily released his hand and took a drink of her iced tea.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking at her with concern. "You felt it didn't you?"

"I don't know what it was, but I felt your emotions. It's like when we make love, only these weren't good emotions."

"Sorry," he said, and she knew he meant it. "Little One just ... talked to me about Jill. She sent her own emotions, as part of her communication, and ... some of what she was getting from Jill. Damn, Diana, I was there from Jill's perspective as some bastard rammed something up her — and I'm not talking about his dick. Something else, and I don't think it was a dildo, either. Maybe a metal pipe or something. Shit, the pain was staggering, and I know that I got the watered-down version." Absently, he reached for his glass of tea just as it hit him. His hand fumbled and overturned the glass.

Diana's hand reached out, but the full glass spilled, anyway. "Baby, what's wrong?" she asked as all the color drained from Jeff's face, and the ignored tea soaked into the carpet.

"Oh, fuck," Jeff said through gritted teeth, not even noticing. "I think ... Shit, I don't have a word for it," he hissed out. "But when I started to tell you about that son-of-a-bitch shoving something up her, it triggered ... something. I think that Little One sent more than she intended. When I thought of that, a large group of memories suddenly unfolded in my mind. It's ... hell, they're obviously Jill's memories. I see men doing things to me/her, I feel pain, humiliation. Oh, shit, Baby, she was a slave, a true sex slave. She couldn't stop herself, and I can feel her trying. I see men laughing, and I see one face over and over. He raped her, ordered her to do things, humiliated her, took her to other men. I see them paying him. It has to be that son-of-a-bitch doctor."

Jeff's face tightened even more. "He needs killing. Something as vile as he is shouldn't live."

"Honey," Diana said, "Let's get the Healer for you. You're worrying me."

"No," Jeff said, leaning back in the chair, his hands shaking. "No, she stood it — I can." After a moment, he calmed — his face changing. "Di, this son-of-a-bitch knew she was messed up inside. I can hear him talking about it, raising hell because she was out of commission for several weeks. Shit, that had to be back in Saint Louis before or near the time of the divorce."

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment. "He was going to sell her. I mean really sell her. He knew she was badly damaged, but as best I can tell, he didn't even do much of an examination. I think he did give her some pills — maybe an antibiotic, but I think that was all he did to help her. I can hear him talking on the phone as she sat near him on the couch unable to even say a word."

Jeff sat quietly for a while, his eyes closed as he leaned back into his chair. Finally, he opened them as he unconsciously stared in the direction of the table, his eyes unfocused.

"Jeff..."

"I'm fine, Baby," he said, his eyes returning to the present as he reached over to squeeze her hand in reassurance.

"I need to clean this up," Diana said after a second.

"Yeah, I would hate to stain the carpet," Jeff said getting up and moving the chairs out of the way, but Diana had heard that sound in his voice before.

A few minutes later, with the table moved a little to the side, both were on their knees as they rubbed big towels from the shower vigorously on the wet carpet. Diana paused for a second, "Are you going to tell Bill?"

Jeff flipped his towel over and continued rubbing, "Not in a million years. I wouldn't wish what I've seen from Jill's mind on anyone, let alone one of our family. No wonder Little One was shaken."

They stood and Diana took their towels into the bathroom. When she came back, "Can you eat now? I'm starved."

"Yeah, me too," he said looking at her as he slid her chair out for her, his countenance taking on his mission face. Seating himself, he continued, "Tomorrow afternoon after Jill is healed, or maybe the next day, I'm going to take a little trip."

"No,  Jeff," Diana said grabbing his hand. "I don't want you to go off and kill this guy. I'll admit he deserves it, but I don't want you to go to jail..."

Jeff looked at her and chuckled with a sound that scared her. "It won't happen that way. And I won't be going to see him tomorrow. Things have to be done first. But this is bigger than just Jill. She heard a lot, even though she couldn't respond to it. I need to get some other people involved. We need to get to the bottom of this — then the bastard will get his due."

-------

While Diana and Jeff ate their late lunch, Doctor Ingles sat in his home office, glass in hand, his feet propped on his desk, a two-thirds full bottle of single malt, ten-year-old bourbon nearby. He was exhausted.

I thought the bitch would surely head straight for Saint Louis. Shit, I still can't believe she broke her conditioning. She shouldn't have been capable of that.

The day that Jill left, his contact had called at the last minute to postpone, and Ingles had come home early — only to find her missing. He now sorely regretted the oversight in not writing down her tag number, not to say anything about keeping her car keys with him. He had been certain the stupid bitch would be heading for Saint Louis, though, because her husband worked out of the airport there. She didn't have the option of going home, since the house had been sold. Logic would dictate that she would try to get to her husband at the airport, though.

How in the fuck did she break her conditioning? he thought for the tenth time.

Ingles had gotten into his car, only to have to gas up, frustrating him even more at the wasted time. Cursing, he hit I-94 headed East, expecting her to go toward Saint Louis. He put the pedal to the metal as they say, but five miles later met a trooper sitting in his patrol car just over a small rise.

Fuck, I thought that son-of-a-bitch was going to arrest me. He wouldn't even listen to what I said about being a doctor trying to catch up to a mental patient. Then I had to wait for him to write the ticket — and he took his fucking time,  Ingles fumed as he remembered.

Ingles had remembered to turn on his radar detector then. He had rolled through every rest stop looking for her car. Nothing. Then, late in the day, he topped another small rise and there stood another state trooper beside his patrol car. Ingles' expensive radar detector did its job about detecting the laser the trooper was using all right. But the detector went off a split second after the cop pulled the trigger on the laser, the detector doing Ingles absolutely no good. He saw the trooper hurriedly opening his car door, and just pulled over, sighing.

Shit!

Ingles hadn't even bothered with an explanation that time. At least it hadn't taken the trooper long to write the ticket.

Just after eight that night, he turned around and headed back for Bismarck. By the time he had gotten home, pissed and too tired to think, he just went to bed. Early the next morning, he had gone to the police with his story about a mental patient who had left. He had told them that she was in dire need of her medications, but was afraid to tell them that she might die without them, thinking that might bring up a deeper inquiry than he was willing to risk. He had given them the phone number and address of his house, claiming it was a small clinic. Then he had to prove he was a doctor, but the bored cop who took the report at the office didn't seem to give a shit about anything other than finishing the complaint and getting on to the next report. Missing persons, particularly persons who wanted to be missing — mental patient or not — weren't the highest priority, obviously.

Of course, Ingles had failed to tell the cops that the medications were really the drugs that he had used to make Jill so much more susceptible to hypnosis and consequently making her will into his. That's the downside to this shit,  he thought. The drugs work, but the body quickly becomes totally dependent on them. A few days without them and the patient would probably die. The tanker that the slavers used had a well-designed and hidden compartment, and the inspectors are easily bribed, anyway. The slaves would never be found there, but two of the women died on the ship on its way to Iran when that idiot didn't give them the drugs like he was supposed to. That had cost them money and they killed his lazy ass for it, he laughed to himself.

Well, even if she gets the cops or her husband to believe her, she'll never last to testify against me. Still, the bitch running off has cost me a lot of money.

Sipping the bourbon, he continued to go over the time since her escape. After he had reported her missing — he got fussed at for not having the tag number of her car — he had stopped to eat breakfast and think. That's when it had hit him.

Shit, the bitch went the other way. She isn't headed for Saint Louis at all; she's going to wherever it is they're keeping her kid. Yeah, that place that the company owns. I'll have to find out exactly where it is. Somewhere around Denver I think. But just in case she did head for Saint Louis and I missed her, I'll get a detective agency to watch for her at the company's facility at the airport. I'll have them put someone there 24/7 waiting for her ass to show up.

That hadn't gone over as easily as he expected. The first agency wanted to know his relationship with Jill Madison, not buying into the escaped mental patient thing, and hung up on him.

The second one wanted to ask too many questions, too. But the third one just wanted his credit card number. After giving the detective his story, he had a brainstorm and told him what he knew about this conference center that belonged to Wainwright, Inc. Hell, they got the address and the phone number while I waited on the phone. How did they do that? No matter, he would keep checking. If the bitch didn't turn up dead, he would check out this place himself. Worst-case scenario, I can always have her killed if she surfaces somewhere. She's the best looking bitch I've ever seen, and had the sweetest tight pussy I've ever been in, that just milked my cock to perfection... Did have, until that stupid Iranian stuck something up her. Hell, I can still sell her to one of those fucks. They get off on a totally submissive slave. If the dumb shits forget to give her the drugs and she dies on them, it's their problem.

-------

IN ONE-HALF MILE, MERGE RIGHT ONTO I-85 SOUTH, the GPS voice said.

"Carla, Baby, I know how to get there. The place is less than two hours out of Atlanta. I have been past it several times. We don't have to have that thing on now," Fred laughed.

"Well, Jessica and I don't know anything about Georgia, and we love to hear Sweet Thing telling you what to do," Carla said, referring to the female voice on their new GPS system.

MERGE RIGHT!

"Okay, okay," Fred answered the computer voice. "I'm merging right, but you are a pushy bitch," he laughed.

CONTINUE 60.2 MILES ON I-85 SOUTH.

"Yes, Ma'am," Fred said, mock-saluting the GPS.

-------

Halfway through the little town of Pine Mountain, Carla suddenly said, "Pull over quickly. We've got to have a picture of that Bed and Breakfast over there."

On their right was an old two-story home with a high peaked roof. The basic color was a deep beige with white trim — and there was plenty of trim. The spindled porch railing on the bottom floor was duplicated on the second floor with a smaller porch. High above was a widow's walk with a high peaked roof. Under the porch roof was beautiful spindle molding that corresponded with the lower railings. The whole house was so well kept that it looked as if it had just been built. The grounds almost appeared sculptured with the dark green grass and plants that surrounded the house, not to mention the hundred-year-old oak trees.

"How old is the house?" Carla said as Fred opened the door so Jessica could train her camera.

"A hundred years, maybe older. I have no idea, but I agree; it's beautiful."

"If we weren't in this, we would spend the night there," Carla vowed.

Rolling again, they turned the corner, and Fred voluntarily pulled over this time. "They've made an effort to save their little town," Carla said as she motioned toward the old stores and shops that lined both sides of the downtown area. Gaily painted and decorated, every store was different, but all seemed to have the same general theme. Nothing looked rundown, but everything was, indeed, old. There were people everywhere.

"I like this place," Jessica said as she stepped out the door to take another picture with Fred's camera.

-------

DESTINATION ON LEFT. TURN LEFT!

As Fred eased the rig to a stop and shut down, he glanced at the women as they looked through the windows enthusiastically. "Want to go inside with me to check in?"

"Yeah, we..." Jessica started.

"No. We'll just wait," Carla interrupted with a glance at her daughter.

"Okay. Be back in a minute," Fred said getting out of the driver's seat as Carla went to sit with her daughter. They were whispering as he closed the door behind him.

He followed a woman of about thirty into the Lodge/General Store. As they came to the registration counter and she walked on around it to face him, she said, "You must be Mr. Wilson?"

Fred's eyes drifted to the well-filled-out top she wore before he flicked his eyes back to her face. She's probably used to it, he guiltily thought. She's pretty, and with that body...  "Yes, Ma'am. How did you know?"

Fred had already figured it out, of course, but he waited.

"Well, we're not exactly being trampled to death by the rush today," she laughed. "And you did say that you were in a Tourmaster. By the way, that sure is a nice rig you have."

"Thanks. But the only time I've ever done this was quite a while back, and in a rented outfit that was a whole lot smaller."

"I'm Audrey," she said, putting her hand out. "Welcome to Pine View. Well, I'm sure you're going to love the Tourmaster, and we'll make sure everything goes smoothly during your stay here. Do you want to leave things on the card you gave us on the phone?" she said stepping behind the computer on the check-in counter.

"Yeah," Fred said pulling out his Visa and his driver's license, putting them both in front of him without prompting.

As she busied herself, his eyes drifted southward again. Her full breasts were apparently constrained by a thin bra which allowed them a little freedom to sway and move to look really nice. Chastising himself again, he snapped his eyes back to her pretty face, hoping she hadn't caught him again, but she was still occupied with registration.

As he propped on the counter looking at the pictures of rigs and various sites of the campground on the wall behind her, Audrey reached over and put her hand on his for a moment. "On the phone, you weren't sure whether you were going to stay one or two nights. But if you're going to Callaway tomorrow like you said, might I suggest that you stay tomorrow night as well. To do Callaway Gardens right, it takes all day."

"Yeah, you're right," Fred acknowledged. "Let's just make it for two nights then."

Audrey looked at his driver's license, then again touched his hand. "Colorado. But you said this was your first camping experience in the Tourmaster. Did you come all the way from Colorado to buy the rig in Atlanta? Didn't you say you were at a Wal-Mart in Atlanta when you talked to me on the phone?"

"She's coming on to you," a voice sternly said in his head. "Quit staring at her tits or you're going to wind up with an extra person in that big bed tonight. Remember what Jeff said about sexual thoughts around strange women."

Oh, Baby. Women have always flirted with me. You never seemed to mind before. She doesn't mean anything by it,  but he remembered how Jeff said to clamp down on his pheromones.

Then aloud, "No, there's a long story behind that, and it's not ... a good one either." Then changing the subject, "Carla said that she wanted a campfire tonight, so I need to get enough wood for that. Maybe for two nights, since we'll be here for two, now," Fred said, as he avoided thoughts about her nice breasts, feeling guiltier by the moment.

"You just want to put the firewood on your bill as well?" Audrey asked.

"Yeah, that will be fine."

Shortly, Fred followed her out the door. "Grab one of these," she said, pointing to a stack of separately bundled firewood. She picked up a bundle and Fred, stuffing the camp map and brochure in his pocket, got a second one. He followed her to a nearby John Deere Gator Utility vehicle with a little dump bed on the back and a roof over the driver.

Tossing her wood in the back, "I've already got a couple of small bundles of kindling in there," she said gesturing. "That'll help you get your fire started. Just follow me and I'll lead you right to your site. As I said, we don't have many folks here right now. Back before school started, we were full practically every night, though. I've put you three spaces down from a couple who stay with us regularly. They're experienced RVers and really nice people. You'll be far enough away for total privacy, yet within easy walking distance if you need to ask anything. Of course, you have the phone number for the camp, and we get good cell reception here. So just give us a call and Rob or I will be glad to come down to help anytime."

"Thanks," Fred said as he tossed his bundle in the back and started toward the RV.

"See," Brenda said. "She quit flirting right after you stopped thinking sexual thoughts. She seems like a nice lady. We wouldn't want her to do anything that she would regret after we left."

Brenda, I wouldn't try to seduce her... 

"Of course not. I know you better than that. Not what I meant. But you have two very sensual women who you even sleep with every night. Sleep with, only. You haven't made love to them — yet. But it's time you quit this pining over me and corrected that."

Fred was so preoccupied with what Brenda had said, that he didn't even notice that Carla and Jessica had lost their bras and changed tops. He got in and eased the RV out behind the little mini truck. As he followed Audrey down the slowly winding lanes to their campsite, his mind finally processed the information about the tops, at least. He quickly glanced at Carla sitting to his right, realizing that she had on a different color top — and it fit really, really nice. She pointed to the swimming pool, and her breasts gave that distinctive movement that meant braless.

Hmmm,  he thought.

"Crap, Baby, We left six inches of snow on the farm with more on the way, and they've still got the pool open here."

Fred glanced in the direction Carla was pointing, seeing what looked like new facilities. "Well, we're not in extreme South Georgia, but we're well on our way. It's probably getting a little cool here at night, though. A long sleeve shirt might be welcome when it gets late, but it still gets hot in the daytime. We ran the air conditioner all the way from Atlanta. I imagine they're going to close the pool any day now, though, unless it's heated, of course."

"But the trees aren't even turning yet," Jessica spoke up.

"Well, yeah. You're right about that, but most of the trees you see around you are Longleaf Pines. They're not going to turn. They're evergreens."

"Well, I know what a pine tree is," Jessica indignantly said. "I meant the others. Isn't that an oak of some sort over there? And it's still green."

"Yeah, it'll be another month or so before fall gets here," Fred agreed — "and remember, we're farther south and over eight thousand feet lower in altitude than Winter Park. Oops, here we are," he finished as Audrey turned in to a pad, drove past the concrete and stopped.

Getting off her vehicle, she waved him forward, then put up her hand when the RV was correctly positioned on the pad.

"That was easy," Fred laughed. He killed the air ride and hit the button to level the RV before getting out.

He got another lecture on disposal of black water, and flushing three times with their gray, soapy water as Audrey did it for him. Damn, if I ever get to do it, I'll know how,  he laughed to himself. He did manage to hook up the power, though. Simply plugging in what amounted to a giant extension cord from the RV to a fifty amp electrical box took only seconds.

Audrey introduced herself to Jessica and Carla as Fred got the wood and kindling out of the little runabout and put them near the campfire ring. Waving, Audrey mounted her trusty steed and was quickly gone.

Carla stood watching her drive away. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

"Don't even start," Fred cut in. "Before you begin about things that aren't even there; this is the South. People — well, most people — are going to be a little more friendly than you would expect in — say — Denver. They'll be more like the farmers and ranchers that helped us out with your harvest. They'll do things for you without even thinking about it or even being asked. Oh, not everybody, but friendly folks get repeat business. And for a lot of them, it just comes naturally, anyway, along with the slower speech patterns."

"Nice save," a sniggering voice said in his mind.

Hush, woman. And you know she was just doing her job.

"Yeah, right. Remember, I feel the things you feel. And ... I felt her breast push up against your back as she was showing you where to hook the hose for the fresh water — as if you couldn't see it for yourself. I think those pheromones are still influencing her."

Fred realized that somewhere along the line he had quit thinking of Brenda — the Brenda in his mind — as only a figment of his imagination.

He turned back toward the front of the RV to see Jessica standing just outside the door looking up like the epitome of a country bumpkin's first time to see the tall buildings in the big city.

Fred glanced up, but didn't see anything in particular. "See a squirrel or something?"

"A squirrel. The place is crawling with them, but that's not what I was looking at. These are the tallest trees I've ever seen," she said.

"Oh, there are taller trees in the US. But can you just imagine, though, what these would look like in another hundred years? I think they live to be two or three hundred, and they keep growing taller until they die."

Fred just had to say it. "Of course, lots of folks cut all the trees down when they build a house. Toss up about trees in the South. Chance a hurricane or tornado blowing them down on your house, or cut them all down and do without the shade."

"And we're parked under all these trees," Jessica said, looking around. Then, "But they've obviously been here a long time to get so big. So they must not come down very easily."

"As long as you don't have weeks of rain to over-saturate the ground, or a tornado doesn't hit them directly, they'll stay just where they are. Too much rain and their roots don't hold as well, and a severe thunderstorm will take them down. But when you live in the South in the spring and fall, you pay attention to the weather forecasts. If they should forecast heavy thunderstorms with possible tornadoes for the area, we're out of here," he laughed. "The advantage to having wheels under this thing," he said, patting the side of the RV.

"You're not just messing with us, are you?" Carla asked, knowing that he probably wasn't.

"Nope, that's the reason I listened to the weather on the way down from Atlanta. We'll also check out the weather radar for the area and the detailed forecast on the net. No big deal. But if we start having heavy thunderstorms forecast for the area, we'll check out Florida a little earlier than we've planned. Now quit worrying. The extended forecast we heard on the radio — remember — was for hot, dry weather for the next week."

Then grinning, he semi-quoted, "'Lowest floor, most interior room, away from windows.' There probably isn't a native of Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi or Louisiana who hasn't heard that many times, and can quote it for you. There's usually at least one TV station in any listening area that goes to full time weather reporting with no commercials when there's a chance of tornadoes moving through. They stay on until the threat is past. No telling how many lives they have saved."

Carla and Jessica stared at each other. As they turned to Fred, he went back inside the RV laughing.

"Fred, that's not funny," Jessica hollered after him.

Fred sat on the couch. "Hell no, it's not," he agreed as the women came inside. "I was serious. Now let me see if their WiFi is as good as Audrey said it is. I need to refresh my memory about Callaway Gardens."

Fred stopped and turned to Jessica. "Shadows are getting long, but there's still plenty of light. Wanna get pictures of our first night here?"

Jessica turned to her mother. "Your turn. Get your camera and we'll try it out. When we were changing clothes, I noticed that the batteries are both fully charged. Of course, someone I know didn't even notice our tops," she said, turning back to Fred.

He glanced pointedly at Jessica's well-displayed braless breasts in her tight top. "Did too. I was just trying to be polite. Of course, that's some fine hardware you're sporting there."

"Hardware?" Jessica tried to indignantly say as she put her hands on her hips, threw her shoulders back and strutted closer to where he was sitting. "Hardware? I'm not a hardware store."

"Nope, but those are some very nice headlights," he said nodding to her suddenly fully extended nipples. Then, "Come here," as he put a hand behind her waist and pulled her closer while he moved forward to sit up on the edge of the seat. Quickly lifting the top above her breasts, he kissed the closest nipple. A few seconds later, he exchanged the kiss for sucking.

Jessica put her hands on his shoulders for support as she closed her eyes and swayed in front of him. His head was level with her breasts, and she pushed her glands toward him trying to get him to suck harder. He concentrated on how much he loved her, how sexy her breasts were — and sucked with vigor.

Jessica hissed in a breath as the wonderful feeling suffused her mind. "Fred, I..."

Fred gently caressed her back with the hand that was supporting her while he slid the other one up to gently grasp her other breast, then pulled firmly on that nipple as well.

Her orgasm hit before she even realized it was close, then before she could get her breath back, another one hit, harder. Her knees got weak and he had to use the hand that was pulling on her nipple to grab her side to help hold her up while her orgasm finished.

"Oh, shit," she said as he eased her to the couch beside him. "Oh, my. That was so intense. I came so hard," she gasped. "I love you. I swear I could feel your love for me."

Then a feeling of guilt hit her. "Oh, it should have been Momma first..."

"Nonsense," Carla said. "That was so exciting. And your orgasm looked so intense."

"Well come here," Fred said, laughter in his voice, "and let's see what happens."

When Carla suddenly turned bashful, Jessica got up and grabbed Carla's hand practically dragging her to Fred. As soon as she was standing in front of him, Jessica reached around her mother from the back and pulled her top above her breasts. Carla's hesitancy was gone as soon as Fred's mouth encircled her swollen nipple.

"Oh, yessss," she hissed as his kisses turned to sucking, and the sucking became much harder. When he added a tongue-tip to the nipple at the same time, her building orgasm peaked. While she was still gasping for breath, he changed breasts to give that nipple equal time. In the midst of that orgasm, her knees buckled and she collapsed forward, but Jessica was ready for her and guided her down beside Fred, who took her into his arms and hugged her while she shuddered.

After a bit, she snuggled to his shoulder, a smile on her face. Fred tenderly kissed her. "I love you," he quietly said.

"I love you, too," Carla weakly responded, tears in her eyes.

Pulling Jessica down on the other side of him, Fred kissed her, too. "I love you, too."

"And I love you."

"It's about time," from Brenda.

After a few minutes, Fred got up and pulled both women to their feet. "Now go get those pictures so we can remember this night."

Laughing, the women pulled their tops down and went to try out their new cameras.



-------

Chapter 14

LATE AFTERNOON — SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 29

Diana cracked the door a little and peeked in. Jeff looked up and motioned for her to enter. A moment later after plopping down in her husband's lap, "Still out I see," she said nodding to Jill.

"Yeah. I've talked to Little One a couple of times. She says everything is going fine, or at least that's my interpretation of what she sent me. I don't understand telepaths. One time you ask what seems to be a simple question and you get back reams of ... something that you have to try to interpret. Other times you just get one impression or thought. Sometimes you are able to communicate about an involved subject with little problem, other times..."

Diana sniggered and curled up more in his lap, almost like a cat would. "I think your use of the word 'you, ' should be just 'I, ' instead. I doubt if anyone else has ever done this; at least no human has. Well, sometimes Arlene and I, and even some of your other wives get strong emotions from Little One, other times all we 'hear' is a distant — almost buzzing. Arlene and I have managed to communicate simple things a time or two, and most of the time, she seems to understand if we're telling her thank you. At least we get nice emotions back. Then, sometimes, I think she understands me, but just ... won't. Maybe, she just refuses to understand or acknowledge anyone but her Prime."

She wants to get back to her ship. She thinks the ship can do something for her so she'll be able to communicate with me almost as well as the ship can,  Jeff thought, but was unable to tell Diana about the ship. And I damn sure don't want to get Little One back where the General can easily get his hands on her. Out of sight, out of mind and all that, and I need to keep it that way. He assigned her to me, but I trust his word about as far as I can throw him.

Jeff laughed. "Well, you knew what I meant, when I said 'you, '" he teased.

Diana traced a fingertip lovingly across his lips. "We have another minor problem. Well, a minor one to us, but not so minor to Bill. He's about to go crazy waiting for word about Jill. I've told him all I can without mentioning the Healer by name, but that isn't much for him to go on. And Kathy is walking the floor until she's about to drive all of us crazy.

"I reminded Bill that this 'procedure' healed Joyce from near certain death, talked about the other times as much as I could, and reminded him that this 'procedure' is what enhanced the Alphas, including him, but I think you need to talk to him — or them. I don't think Kathy will let you get away with talking to Bill about Jill without her being there — not about this, anyway"

"Kathy is going to be a Queen then like we talked about?"

"I've talked to her a little about it a few days ago, then Evie and I discussed it with her, but not in any great detail — we didn't know about Jill then. But yeah, she's been with her Alpha, not just sexually, but accepted him as hers. Little One has enhanced her, and if all the pacing back and forth is any indication, I would say that the Queen Bitch syndrome is definitely taking effect. I think she is starting to take on the responsibilities of a Queen. She's already said that Jill was still Bill's wife, since Jill wasn't in control of leaving him ... and Kathy was emphatic about it."

Jeff sat quietly for a moment, relishing the feel of his wife in his arms. "From what I think I get from Little One, and the memories and emotions I got from Jill through Little one, Jill has probably always been — shall we say — something of a closet submissive, if there is such a term. Oh, nothing drastic, I think, but the tendency has been there. The drugs that Ingles used, plus the hypnosis, have magnified that all out of proportion. Ingles has some key words, probably, that would kick in the post-hypnotic suggestions he has given her to make her obey him, but he could transfer that power to whomever he 'rented' her out to. Might have just told her she had to do whatever the person said, but she had to come back to him at a certain time, or under some circumstance. I don't know. And I also don't know exactly how much of this will be left after Little One is through with her. The Healer did tell me that she was afraid to touch Jill's mind, though. The drugs and their effect on her body will be gone, but I don't know about the hypnosis."

"So you think..."

"I don't know what to think. She obviously managed to get away from Ingles while he was out of the house. She said something about his forgetting to give her the drugs one night, didn't she? But what would she do if he managed to get to her? Would she obey him? I have no way to know. But I do know from the transference of memories that I got from Little One, Jill is terrified of him — and justifiably so."

-------

Diana had remained to watch over Jill, and a few minutes later Jeff walked into the living room where everyone sat waiting. Bill and Kathy were nearest the door with her sitting on his lap. She shot up as if she had been launched, and was to Jeff before Bill had taken more than two steps in Jeff's direction.

"How is she? Is she all right?" she blurted out as if one word.

"Wait, let the man talk," Bill said coming up behind her and putting his arms around her.

"Please, Jeff. We've been so worried," Kathy continued at the same time Bill was talking, not giving Jeff time to respond.

"Kathy. Hush!" Bill's voice softly commanded in her ear as he tightened his arms. "Let him talk."

Kathy took a breath and held it for a moment, obviously forcing herself to relax in Bill's welcome arms.

Jeff smiled despite himself, thinking about what he and Diana had just been talking about. "She's fine," he said to the one fast becoming another Queen. "She's still out, and right now I can't tell you how much longer she'll be that way, but I can state, absolutely, that she's fine."

Tears of relief welled up in Kathy's eyes, then in Bill's as their emotions synched.

"Let's go to the kitchen for a moment," Jeff said to the two. "I need to talk privately with both of you." Then turning slightly, he spoke to the others, "I need to talk to everyone before Jill is back with us. So if you don't mind..."

"We'll be here waiting," Wainwright spoke up for everyone.

-------

The three sat in the kitchen. Jeff would have liked a cup of coffee just to have something to do with his hands, but he didn't mention it. He looked, instead, at the anxious faces of the new husband and wife. "Jill has been through a lot. I ... can't tell you how I know, but if you have ever believed anything I say, please just believe this. She was, indeed, drugged, hypnotized, raped and farmed out to other men to do with as they pleased. She was humiliated in the worst ways that you could possibly conceive of. I'm still shook over the experience."

Kathy looked at Bill, then back to Jeff, frowning. "But how could you ... I mean; I believe you. I believed what she said to Linda, plus you and Diana, but how could you know? If she's been asleep..."

Jeff sighed. "Kathy, I can. That's all I can tell you."

"Go on," Bill quietly said as he unconsciously clenched his fists under the table.

Jeff didn't want to take credit for what Little One did, but he didn't know any other way to say it other than the 'procedure, ' and it was obvious that term was being stretched thin. "This 'procedure'..."

Bill stared at Jeff. "Dammit, Jeff. Like I've said before, you keep saying we're all family here, yet you can't talk to us. You and Diana have both slipped and almost said something which you changed to this 'procedure' thing. We all — well the ones of us who aren't in the know — assume that this thing is one of your inventions, but you avoid the subject. But put a name to it. Earlier, you almost said something to do with healing, I guess. At least it sounded like that was what you were going to say considering the context of the conversation. Hmmm, makes sense. Healer. Maybe that's what you have stopped yourself from saying. But call it fucking something. And unless I'm a complete idiot, most everyone here knows more about your invention than Kathy and I do."

"Bill," Kathy said laying a restraining hand on his, their roles reversed as she, this time, calmed her mate.

Madison took a breath, then let it out in a whoosh. "Sorry Jeff. I apologize. I'm uptight, but that's no excuse. I'm acting like an ass. But it's just that my wife, well my other wife, is ... Hell, I don't know what she is, but Kathy knows I still love Jill. Anyway, she's lying in that suite..."

"Her body and mind have both been traumatized greatly," Jeff broke in. "You have no idea how much. And that son-of-a-bitch is going to pay," Jeff snarled, thinking about this having happened to one of his Alpha's wives.

"My thoughts exactly," Bill agreed.

Jeff stared hard at Bill. "I think this is a lot bigger than just Jill. I'm going to start ... something tomorrow or day after, latest. Then I'll deal with Ingles."

"Like hell you will," Bill reproached. "It's my job to deal with that prick. That son-of-a-bitch ruined my family. Well, he would have, if it were not for you."

"She made it back on her own," Kathy interjected.

Bill glanced at his new wife. "After she's healed, I'll get all the information she can give me, then..."

"I have a plan," Jeff broke in.

-------

Fred, amused, watched the women grab up their cameras, insert their new batteries, and with a little prompting from him — which he doubted they actually needed — put in their memory cards.

"The lighting is screwed," Jessica fretted. "With all these trees and so late in the day, the flash will never do a decent job of lighting the whole area."

"Leave off the polarizer," Fred instructed. "That will give you a couple of F-stops more light through the lens. The pictures, no matter the deep shadows, will show enough of our RV and the campgrounds so we can look at it later and remember. Or there's a collapsible tripod in my case that you can use as you slow the shutter down enough to get a better picture."

The women were soon out the door with their cameras, Jessica now the "pro" coaching her mother. Smiling, Fred followed them out with a brush and cleaning materials for the charcoal camp grill, not even bothering to ask them if they had rather use the built-in gas grill on the RV.

Hmmm, someone did a good job on this when they were through, Fred thought a moment later as he inspected the grill, Not much cleaning needed. We'll have to make sure and do the same for the next person.

After the grill was clean, he went to put up the cleaning supplies and get the charcoal. By the time it was burning, the women had finished their picture taking and came to check on him.

"You can grill the steaks when the rest of the food is about ready," Carla offered.

"Nope. Glad to set on my ass and watch. You know I can get by in a pinch, but Brenda was the cook around the house, and you two have been at the farm most of the time. No use messing up a good thing."

"But you help us," Jessica defended him.

"Yeah, but I'm like Jeff. Why mess up a good piece of meat when I have professional cooks to take care of it."

"We're not professional," Jessica objected.

"Well, you both have been cooking all your lives. How long does it take to be a professional, then?" he teased.

Jessica grinned at him before turning toward the RV to start with the food preparation while the charcoal was getting ready.

-------

Later, the food eaten, they sat in their camp chairs talking. Carla reached over and squeezed Fred's hand. "We need a campfire, Honey."

"Well, it may not be quite as dark as the farm is, but with all these trees and that quarter moon, it's close enough. A campfire will go good."

"Our neighbors down there," Jessica said pointing, "either have their shades down, or they don't have any lights on. I haven't seen anything of them since we pulled in. Heck, for that matter, only one RV came by and a couple of cars."

"So get that nice bum of yours up and build us a fire," Carla instructed as she made as if to pinch Fred on the butt.

He started laying out the firewood, but when Jessica cleared her throat behind him, "What?" he said turning to look over his shoulder as he knelt by the fire pit.

"Did your daddy teach you to make a fire that way? Didn't I hear you say that you were raised on a farm?"

Fred looked up at her. "Sure. He stacked the wood, poured gasoline on it, put the can far away, threw a match and ran like hell. I'm not going to use gasoline of course, but charcoal lighter fluid works just fine, without the explosion," he said, knowing he was going to get a lecture.

Sure enough, in nothing flat, Jessica was demonstrating the proper way to build a campfire, starting with the kindling, of course. After the fire was going nicely, she looked suspiciously at a grinning Fred. "Why do I get the feeling that I was set up?" she chided him.

"Set up? I haven't the foggiest notion what you're talking about. I have studiously taken notes on your fire making and will endeavor to follow your instructions scrupulously in the future."

"Mom, he's messing with me," Jessica called out to her mother in her best imitation of a little girl's voice as Carla walked up with three marshmallow-roasting forks and a bag of marshmallows.

"Children. Children," the mother laughed.

When Fred saw the forks, he stopped. "Oh, that's sacrilege. You roast marshmallows on a stick, not a bought ... whatever those things are."

"Yeah, well. Where are you going to find a stick around here? There isn't a scrap of brush anywhere in sight, and the lowest limb on one of these trees must be twenty feet off the ground. Even then, the limbs are gigantic, anyway."

"Well, now, hmmm," Fred said. "I guess, on second thought, we can pretend these are sticks," he responded, pulling Carla down to kiss her at Brenda's prompting.

A moment later, Carla broke the kiss. "Go get that ground cloth you brought and put it about there," she said, pointing. "Jessica and I will wash up the few dishes we used that weren't throwaway, and be back with a blanket and pillows."

A few minutes later, Fred had disposed of the trash, cleaned the grill and put the ground cloth out, not even bothering to weight the edges down, since there was no wind. The women brought a blanket and pillows, which they left for Fred to arrange while they went back inside the RV. By the time he had the blanket spread out on the ground cloth and the pillows on it, Jessica and Carla were back with an insulated carafe of coffee and cups.

They sat on the blanket, snuggled together, drinking their coffee and talking while the fire burned down. After a while, Carla passed out the marshmallow sticks (roasting forks) and they proceeded to burn their marshmallows, laughing when they got one too close to the fire and it suddenly poofed a little flame. They quickly blew the flame out, tasted the singed marshmallow and declared it delicious.

Laughing, hugging each other and occasionally kissing, the night around them deepened until they found themselves huddled together again watching the fire's dying embers.

"It's time," Brenda's soft voice said in Fred's head.

Fred felt both women jerk at the same time. They had been sitting, a woman on each side of him leaning into him. He had been tilting his head a little forward so all their heads had been touching at one place or another.

"You two heard that, didn't you?"

"Fuck, yes," both women responded almost simultaneously.

"Then I'm not crazy!" Fred exclaimed.

"Nobody ever said that you were," Carla objected.

"We've always believed you," Jessica added.

"I told you that I was getting stronger," from Brenda.

"Did you hear that?" Fred asked when the women didn't respond.

"Hear what?" they both asked, almost together, their heads no longer touching.

"All right; let's do this. Snuggle close. I'll lean my head a little forward and you two put your heads against mine like we were just a minute ago."

When they had done it, he said aloud, "Say something, Brenda."

"Something, Brenda," she parroted.

Jessica and Carla burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay," Fred said joining in. "Now let's try it the other way. Think something back at her, Carla."

...

"Now you, Jessica."

...

"I'm not getting anything," from Brenda.

"Well, I guess we didn't get to be telepaths after all," Fred laughed.

"But Carla and Jessica can hear me if their heads are touching yours. So, at least we can have a much-needed conversation," Brenda pragmatically said.

"I can't believe that we're talking..." Jessica started to say, but quickly shut up.

"Talking to someone who is dead?" Brenda supplied.

"Well, yeah. But it sounded so ... disrespectful. I apologize. I didn't mean it badly."

"Well, it's the truth. I guess introductions are in order, though."

Fred, taking his cue, said, "Carla and Jessica, this is my wife, Brenda. Brenda, Carla on my right and Jessica on my left."

After they exchanged greetings, Jessica squirmed in Fred's arms. "Brenda, how does it feel? I mean; what's it like?"

"Well ... it's. Oh, crap. I don't know how it is or what it's like. When I first woke up, I could sometimes hear Fred. I guess I thought he was in a different room at home, or something. But then I realized that I couldn't see my hands and arms, or my body, and then realized that I couldn't feel myself, either.

"I guess I freaked out for a while — I don't know how long. When ... things ... when I calmed down some, I could sometimes hear him again. Later he heard me, but he thought I was just his memory of me. Gradually, he's come to believe that I'm ... well, me, I guess. I can't feel or see myself, but I began to be able to see things that my Love sees and hear things he hears. I think the more he believes in me, the stronger I become, but then again, I think something else is making me stronger, too. But I can hear you two just fine through my husband's ears.

"And speaking of other things, something — I don't know what — seemed to somehow calm me when I lost it. I got the feeling — well, more than just a feeling — that I was a mistake. I mean, I know that God doesn't make mistakes. I'm not saying that, but according to the Bible, He did destroy the world He created, and He changed His mind a few times, also. Maybe, it's just some sort of wistful thinking on my part — whatever. But I think that's the reason I'm still here with Fred; it isn't time for me to go on to wherever I'm supposed to go."

"So, you're a ghost then?" Jessica said.

"No. I don't know what a ghost is other than what I've seen in the movies, or read some fantasy story about. I don't think ghosts even exist. I can't go creeping around to scare people looking like a white mist or anything. Heck, I can't even see myself. I have no tactile sensations of my own at all. I can see, hear and feel what Fred does, though. But other than that, I'm just here. That's the reason that I think I'm just my soul stuck here with Fred."

Fred cleared his throat.

"Well, 'stuck here' isn't right either, but I don't have much of a clue what I really am, just a feeling that I'm my soul or something similar. But now I can talk to my Love's women."

The conversation went on until the fire had burned out and Fred had a crick in his neck. When he involuntarily broke contact by straightening his neck, he got fussed at by all three women.

"But I've got a crick in my neck," he whined as he arched his neck backward and turned his head from side to side.

Jessica got up and ran inside the RV. Back a minute later with a bottle of baby oil, she poured some on her hands to warm it, then began massaging Fred's neck. "Damn, girl, where did you learn to do that? That feels sooo good," he said as his body seemed to go limp and he slumped forward."

"Internet," she responded as she continued with the massage. "Preparing to take care of my man," she finished before he could ask. Fred wasn't sure whether she was kidding or not, so he just shut up.

After the massage, they got him into a more comfortable position, snuggled to him with all their heads touching and went back to it. After a while, the three women grew tired of embarrassing Fred, and he, becoming bored with their girl talk, dozed off still slumped against them.

-------

Diana, Kathy and Bill sat in the sitting room of the suite, the couple holding hands as they sat on the couch with Diana perched on the coffee table in front of them. "Jeff, for reasons I don't understand, wanted me to be the one to explain something to the two of you. He certainly isn't a bashful person; he does have nine wives, but ... here goes, anyway."

Diana stopped for a second, even though she had rehearsed in her mind what she was going to say; saying it aloud suddenly felt a lot different than she had planned. "Bill, uh ... Jill was really torn up inside..."

"Torn up inside?" Bill started.

"Some asshole shoved something up inside her," Diana almost snarled.

"Jeff told us," Kathy sighed, "but he also told us everything was fine ... or will be by this time tomorrow."

"The Healer..." Bill inserted.

Diana stared at him. "The Healer," she continued with, "since you are using that term," she tried to misdirect, "didn't just heal Jill there. She was so torn up that she ... could never have children again if she wanted. The healing there isn't complete at this point. We suspect that if she discovers this, it would have a traumatic effect on her — heck, it surely would on me. So you two need to be aware of this, and be prepared to ease her mind. She can urinate, but her female organs just ... aren't there at the moment. They're being regrown and won't be complete until tomorrow afternoon."

Kathy and Bill looked at each other. "Diana, do you know how strange that sounds?" Kathy said very quietly.

Now I know why my husband suddenly got so ... Well, whatever he got,  Diana thought as she began to feel like she was sinking in quicksand. She pushed on though. "The drugs are gone from her system, as are the effects of the withdrawal. She has been given energy to get up and interact with us. She will be hungry until her weight returns to normal. Her internal organs, other than her sex, are all now functioning normally — well better than normal, just like ours do now. But if she should examine herself down there, in addition to all the trauma she has been through..."

"Well, she's going to see herself," Kathy interjected. "I mean, you said she could urinate. She'll wipe; she'll notice if things ... are different, won't she?" Then, "Why can't we just tell her what's going on?"

"Well, we might have to, but the ... uh, Jeff feels that she has been so traumatized mentally that he's trying to avoid another shock. How would you like to wake up and find that you didn't have anything down there?" she asked Kathy a little more forcefully than she meant.

"So what am I supposed to do? Go to the bathroom with her and distract her when she pees? Surely she isn't going to try to masturbate?" she half-asked, half-stated.

"I don't know," Diana responded. "Just be prepared if she suddenly freaks out. It was either this or have her sleep for another twenty-four hours with her family going nuts in the meantime," she stressed, looking hard at Kathy. "Her body, other than her sex, has been repaired, but she hasn't been 'fixed' mentally. That ... that person filled her full of drugs and hypnotized her. She was in the living room telling us she was trash. I'm just asking you to be there and be ready to reassure her. But Jeff can have her sleep for another twenty-four hours if you think it's best, Bill."

"No," Bill interjected. "She needs to be with us, for her ... and for all of us as well. I ... Kathy and I can't wait any longer. We'll take care of her as soon as Jeff says she's ready to wake up."

Kathy turned to look Bill in the eye. "We're going in there together. You're going to hold your wife and tell her everything is fine, and you're going to make her believe it. I'll be there holding her, too. We'll do this together. We need to welcome our wife back home. Home to our family."

"Jeff said he thought it would be less than an hour now," Diana interjected.

"Doesn't matter. We'll wait right here," Kathy said as she snuggled to Bill's side to wait for Jeff to come out of the bedroom.



-------

Chapter 15

Little One was almost finished with the preliminary healing, and allowed Jill to come up from the deep induced sleep to a more normal one.

Jill dreamed/remembered:

Jill and four other top scholastic students from around the state were invited to tour a prestigious college. It was located only seventy miles from home, but was the one she had been hoping for. Because of taking summer school classes and being pushed up a grade, she was only sixteen as her last high school year neared its close.

She had problems that many girls wished they had — boys. She had been a late-bloomer compared to several of the other girls in her class, but when she did blossom, it had come quickly — and big time. Her parents were both pleased and — shocked. For when she changed, it became obvious that her beauty was far beyond what was even considered as very pretty. That's when the problems began. She became — to use an overused term — a boy magnet.

She exuded sex. She exuded beauty. She exuded glamour. Although most boys her age were struck tongue-tied when she was near, older boys weren't. They hounded her at school; they came uninvited to her house. Somehow word of her beauty got out, and she had offers for modeling jobs — some of them from obviously less than scrupulous organizations. Her parents went ballistic — and stayed that way.

She received lectures from her mom — and her dad. She did date some, but either her choices weren't the best, or her beauty overrode the boys' good sense. She was groped, stared at and obviously lusted after. Maybe if she could have dated someone her age, but most of them were too intimidated to ask. The older ones knew what they were after, but most failed to use any finesse in their pursuit of it.



"She'll be knocked up before she's seventeen," her father had ranted to her mother.

They put Jill on the pill.

She and several other top students were offered a tour of a prestigious college nearby. The only way her father would agree to her tour of even this one college was for her mother to accompany her. There was a chaperone from one of the other high schools assigned to the group, but her father wouldn't relent. Her mother went with her, too.

They had been welcomed, briefly, by the dean, who congratulated them on their scholastic achievements, then left them with another person for their campus tour.

Later that day, they were all sitting outside the cafeteria in the warm sun when she spotted a young junior NROTC student. He looked sharp in his uniform, but she quickly decided that he would look sharp in anything he chose to wear. Their eyes met as he walked by — their eyes. He didn't lock onto her breasts or ass as so many young men there had already done that day.

He stumbled, though, but recovered and said, "Well, good morning. It's obvious that I've just made a fool out of myself, but in the hopes of redemption, I'm Bill Madison," he finished, chuckling.

She hadn't been sure how an introduction could redeem him, but she laughed, anyway, "I'm Jill Merriweather."

She had heard of love at first sight, and she certainly wasn't sure this was it, but she was going to find out. She suddenly knew exactly where she was going to school. She had made her choice. They had talked for a few minutes, exchanged phone numbers while her mother frowned, and parted.

Bill had called that night. She had been sitting by the phone since they had gotten home. No playing coy with him, she wanted to talk to him and wanted him to know it. He seemed just as smitten with her, but then again, all boys were — but this was a man.



Her mother had not been pleased; her father was far from that category. This young man was a junior in college. She was just barely sixteen. The relationship was not going to happen.

On the phone, Bill could hear her father ranting in the background, but instead of getting off the phone, he had asked to speak with her dad.

They had talked for ten minutes. In the beginning, it was mostly her father ranting, but then the rant slowed and the last few minutes of the conversation was largely Bill talking.

Her father handed the phone back to her. "Give him our address. He'll be here at ten Saturday morning. He and I will talk some more. You will see him here in our living room. You will not leave this house with him. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," she quickly said.

Her father looked at her for a moment, then left the room.



They talked for a while, then, "What did you say to him?" she quietly asked when she was sure her father and mother were out of earshot.

"I promised not to tell," Bill answered. "See you Saturday," and hung up.

She couldn't sleep; she couldn't study, and finals were coming up soon. Her mother came into her room where Jill was sitting at her desk, open textbook in front of her, staring at nothing. The older woman stopped beside her daughter and leaned to pull Jill against her for a second. "Don't mess your grades up at this late date, Dear. There are plenty of men in this world. As pretty as you are, you can have your pick of them." But her words were spoken softly and with love. When Jill didn't respond, her mother had sighed. "I know how you feel," she said as she bent to pull her daughter's head against her to stroke her. "You've heard about your father and me. I knew on our first date, and I think he did, too. Looks like it's hit you the same way. It will work out."

Friday night, she and her parents sat at the table after dinner and talked. Voice grim, her father spoke, "He's in the Navy; will be gone a lot of the time. If he makes it through to be a pilot like he wants, that jet will be first on his list for years. If you marry him, you'll be alone on some base while he's on the other side of the world. He wants to be a carrier pilot. It's dangerous. Chances are pretty good he won't come back to you one of these days. You need to think about that. You could be a widow in your mid-twenties sitting here at this table, crying."

Crap, her father knew more about Bill than she did. Her dad's words rang true, though; she knew he was just trying to prepare her, but she had just met this person. What had he said to her dad on the phone? Why had he so abruptly changed his mind and let Bill come to see her? And her father was talking about a future marriage, something she had just been dreaming about. But he was acting like it was something that was going to happen.

"And there's the other thing," her father continued. "He's good-looking from what your mother said, and he'll be a hotshot pilot. Women will flock after him. He could always choose someone else while he's gone from you so much."

"I know," she had whispered, already worried.

Saturday morning, Jill's mother had helped her with her hair, not that it needed much. She was one of the few women that could literally get by just fine with a shampoo and a blow dryer, or just let her hair dry on its own. Her naturally beautiful hair just fell into place; its thick abundance with a natural slow wave made her look fresh out of the beauty shop. But she and her mother fussed over her looks, anyway. A little lipstick was all that might be needed, and even that was debatable. Her mother had wanted her to wait upstairs and come down after Bill was there, but she refused.

They sat in the living room as his car stopped in their driveway. Bill didn't get out for a minute, then walked to the door. The doorbell went off at ten on the dot as her father looked at his watch, an unfathomable expression on his face. After introducing Bill to her dad, they all sat awkwardly and chatted for a few minutes. Then her father got up, took her mother's hand and left the room.

They sat on the couch, near, but not touching, and talked. She talked about high school and her plans for college. He talked about his coming career in the Navy and flight school. Their souls seem to already know each other. Thirty minutes later, her father came into the room and asked to speak to Bill alone. She reluctantly got up and went to the kitchen to talk with her mother, worried what her father was going to say to the man she was rapidly falling in love with.

Twenty minutes later, Bill and her father walked into the kitchen. "Would you like to go chase down a hamburger? You can show me around the city."

Her father, standing behind Bill and a little to the side, nodded and smiled at her. "Yes, that sounds good. I would like that," she responded, knowing that her dad had probably set this up, even though he had originally told her she couldn't leave the house with this grown man. She hugged her dad and kissed him on the cheek. "You won't regret this," she whispered to him.

Bill kissed her in the hamburger place, midday, in front of everyone. Oh, not a big kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. She knew she tasted like hamburger and french fries, but so did he. It was cold and blustery that Saturday, but after riding around for an hour or so, they sat on a park bench and necked, neither noticing the cold.

Amazing her still further, her father allowed Bill to take her to the prom. Bill looked dashing in his uniform, and her family had spent a lot of money on her dress. She had received envious stares from the girls in her class as she clung to Bill's arm. When the prom was over, they had stopped by to eat with the crowd, but Bill carried her home afterward, then came in to chat with her parents who had waited up for her.

Throughout the summer, he came to visit whenever he could, but he was taking summer classes to try to finish ahead of time, and money was short, besides. But the mother and father who had been so watchful over their daughter, relaxed their rules. Only years later did her father tell her that he had accepted the word of a future officer to another retired officer. Bill had promised to wait to take her virginity on her wedding night if he was allowed to date her. He had kept that word, sometimes much to her frustration.

When she started college, and before they married, they saw each other at every opportunity. He didn't have much money to date, but she didn't care as long as she could be with him. Everyone thought they were fucking — they weren't; although, they did everything else. Technically, she was a virgin on her wedding night, but she was very familiar with giving her new husband blowjobs and his mouth had been on her pussy and breasts many times. That wonderful cock of his had never penetrated her hymen until that night, though. He had kept his word to her father.

When they married, their honeymoon had been short because of his being newly assigned to a carrier. She went back to school and buried herself in her studies. But her teens and early twenties were wonderful memories of exploring each other and the intense emotions and feelings that went with that.

She remembered the first time he nursed her breasts. She had bit her lip to keep from screaming out as she climaxed. She had even told her mother about it, well ... more accurately, blurted it out in describing to her mother how much she loved him.

Appalled that she had told her mother something like that, she held her breath and waited for the chastisement ... that didn't come. Instead, her mother looked at her and grinned, "I thought you would probably take after me, just like I did my mother. But it only makes it harder to keep your legs together when you can orgasm from having your nipples nursed, so be careful. Your father is worried that the two of you will go all the way, then won't wind up married. You're so young. Your dad is old fashioned that way, as you well know."

As it turned out, Bill had given his word, and meant to keep it. His word was the only reason that Jill walked down that aisle, hymen intact — the only reason. She giggled in her sleep as she thought of that. Those first years with Bill had been so wonderful. Then Linda came along — planned. Jill went off the pill a month before one of Bill's leaves. When he went back to the ship, she was pregnant.



Those were fabulous years, too, but her teens stood out. They had been almost like something you read about in a storybook. So many new things to do with this man in her life. This man who had always been so gentle with her, so loving. Not that they hadn't fucked like bunnies once they were married, for they had, but he was her rock from the beginning. She longed for him when he was gone and spent every moment with him when he was home.

Out of the Navy, it was much the same, but his times away were much shorter. Still, he was gone for a few days at a time. Then the much better job at Wainwright and later, the crash, but he had saved Frank Wainwright's life, though he had received terrible burns on his back in doing so. Frank and Margaret had been good to them, though. Then he was flying again — the thing he loved most in life — well, most after his family.

Her dreams cycled back to the prom. Bill had slain the girls in her class; they couldn't stop looking at him, but he would only dance with her. There was no denying they were a couple. She remembered swirling about the dance floor, his strong arms encircling her. She smiled in her sleep as she longed for times gone by.

Little One watched her dreams, feeling the horror that lurked just below the times she longed for, the little alien thinking.

-------

The fire was out; the blanket, pillows and ground cloth where back inside. Carla, Jessica and Fred sat in their living room finishing a soft drink. "Take your shower first, Baby," Carla said to the big man. "Two can take a shower together in there if they're really friendly, I guess the expression is, but three just can't happen in that small space. We're hooked up to the camp's water, though, so we don't have to conserve tonight."

Fred quickly showered, anyway; put on a tee-shirt and shorts and went back to the living room to check the weather on the TV while the women took their turn.

Carla stepped into the shower first while Jessica waited. The mother reached back out and grabbed her daughter's hand. "Come on; we can shower together."

"Yeah, we've done it at home when we were in a hurry, or when Fred was in there with us," Jessica said as she stepped in.

Carla moved over so that Jessica could get wet. "I washed my hair this morning, so I don't want to get it wet tonight and have to take time to dry it."

"Yeah, me too," Jessica said.

As the two women stood soaping up, Jessica turned a critical eye to her mother. "You really look good, you know. No one is going to believe that you're my mother. Whatever Jeff did..."

"You really think so? Fred looks young, but..."

"You're just fishing for another compliment," Jessica giggled as she reached over to tickle her mother.

When Carla jumped back a little, Jessica's hand dragged across her mother's nipple.

"Oh, shit," Carla hissed as she shivered. "Whatever he did to us has a lot more effect than just age. My nipples and breasts are so sensitive..."

"Both of us," Jessica agreed. "Anything that touches mine gets my attention." Impulsively, she cupped Carla's breast, gently tweaking the nipple again, this time on purpose.

Carla shivered, managing to pull back, though, in spite of the feeling. "Jessica," she hissed. "I'm your mother."

"Yeah," Jessica said, "and a sexy one at that." Resuming her hold on her mother's breast, she pulled gently on the rapidly swelling nipple.

"Oh, Jess. We can't do this. It's wrong..." Carla said as she put her hand over her daughter's.

Jessica brushed her mother's hand aside, suddenly leaned forward and put her mouth on the nipple. Gently she sucked; something that she had been wanting to do for ages.

Carla mumbled a time or two, but shortly her hands came up to caress Jessica's head lovingly. "Oh, Jess. That feels so nice. I think I'm going to..." she gasped. "Going to... come," she wailed. The last word much louder and drawn-out than she intended.

Jessica noticed the absence of sound as Fred muted the TV in the living room. Carla didn't.

After a few moments, Carla, slumped against the shower wall, chuckled and teased, "How did that soapy titty taste?"

"Just wonderful," Jessica quickly answered, holding her own with both hands and stripping the nipples. "Please do that to me; I just rinsed mine off, so no soap."

"Jessica I..."

"Please," Jessica pleaded.

Well, if she can, then I can,  the older of the two thought as she leaned forward. Might as well do it right while I'm at it. Leaning farther, she took Jessica's left nipple in her mouth and sucked, her tongue batting the tip while she did so. When her daughter hissed in an appreciative breath, Carla massaged the other nipple as she increased the suction.

Jessica, her fantasy coming true, slammed her hand back against the shower wall as she momentarily lost her balance. "Oh my goodness," she shrieked as her orgasm approached. She got louder when it got there.

A few minutes later, laughing, Carla looked at her daughter's relaxed face. "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm more than okay," Jessica said as she reached over to caress her mother's cheek.

Carla had already turned the shower off while Jessica was coming down. Now reaching out, she got two towels for them. Handing Jessica hers, Carla grinned. "Well, I guess we don't have to worry about keeping this from Fred. If he didn't hear you, then he's deaf."

"I couldn't help it, Mom. I just never expected it to be that intense."

"Turn around and I'll do your back," Carla instructed. "'Never expected?' So you've thought about what we did?"

"Like, forever," Jessica admitted as she turned for her back to be dried.

A frown crossed the mother's pretty face. "So you like girls after all. You told me that you didn't."

"I don't. Women don't turn me on in the least. It's just... you," Jessica said as her mother finished.

Carla turned her back so Jessica could dry her, also. "I don't know what to say."

Jessica stopped for a moment to reach under her mother's arm and cup a breast, gently lifting it. "Then why say anything. I think we both enjoyed it. I know I certainly did. And I don't think you faked that orgasm while I nursed you. Did you?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I never did that when your father was alive. I never would, and besides, I have too many real ones to bother with faking." Carla found herself laughing a little at the notion of her faking an orgasm while her daughter sucked her breast.

Jessica stepped out of the shower, tossing both their towels in the hamper. Putting her mouth close to Carla's ear, "So did your pussy get wet while we played?" she whispered

"Yes," Carla giggled.

"Mine, too. Now the preliminaries are over, let's go see if the main event is ready?"

"Wait," Carla said, grabbing Jessica's hand. "He's seen us nude over and over. Time to drag out the big guns," she said opening a drawer. "We wear the matching negligées we've been saving."

Jessica caught the tad of material that Carla threw her. "You think he'll make love to us tonight?"

"Brenda says he's ready. It's kinda hard to mourn for someone who is right there in your brain with you. He's finally realized that she's real, particularly now that we can hear her, too. So now's our chance."

When Jessica had slipped on the red negligée, Carla reached over and took her hand. "We make love tonight. It's now or never. I'm tired of begging. I'm surely not going anywhere else looking for a man. We've found ours, as odd as that sounds. But he is going to make love to us tonight. Brenda said she would help, and with his dozing while we talked, I doubt if he even heard us. But heard us or not, I can't stand not having him inside me. It's time."

Jessica squeezed her mother's hand. "Thank you for that in the shower. I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Carla put her matching negligée on while Jessica watched. "Your breasts are so sexy," Jessica said, stroking her mother's side.

Carla looked at herself in the mirror, "Glad you like them, for there isn't a nickel's worth of difference in mine and yours."

"Yours are larger," Jessica insisted.

"Not by enough to notice," Carla said as she too looked in the mirror.

"Let's do it," Jessica said as she urged her mother out the bedroom door.

-------

Fred sat on the couch, the TV muted, a laughing Brenda making jokes in his mind as he intently listened to the noises coming from the shower.

"Sounds like they're getting ready for you," Brenda giggled.

Baby, I can't do that with them. It's just... 

"Time," Brenda finished his sentence with a mental giggle.

But, Baby, you've only been ... uh, dead a few... 

"Frederick Martin Wilson, I'm tired of this crap. Those women love you, and you love them."

My name is Fred. Don't start with that again. You know how much I hate Frederick.

"Yeah, I do," she giggled. "I was there the day you turned twenty-one and had it changed to Fred. Hmmm, I'll bet your women would get a kick out of knowing that."

Brenda, that's lowdown. You wouldn't do that would you? he all but whined.

"Well, I might. But back to matters at hand..."

Brenda, I can't make love to them with you in my mind. I... 

"My Love, I don't mean to be a bitch. I know that you love me and don't want to hurt me, but honestly, Dear, it's fucking boring in here," she all but shouted the last words.

Uh,  Fred thought back while desperately trying to think of something to say, but Brenda continued.

"To start with, I couldn't talk to you much unless you thought about me. Well, that wasn't hard, since you thought about me practically all the time. But when you got busy on the farm, you sometimes went for five minutes without thinking of me," she thought sarcastically, laughter in her mental voice. "And I appreciate that, but somewhere along in there, you began to believe more and more that I was real. Now you know I'm real. Well, as real as whatever the fuck I am can be real," she amended. "Anyway, I'm mostly here all the time now. Now to begin with, it was a novel experience to be riding around in a man's brain, particularly the man I've loved for so many years. Hey, the first time you got an erection and I could feel it from your perspective, I was intrigued."

There was a pause in his mind, "But the first time you took a shit was all I needed to know about that, but you know what, I'm there every time now — don't have any choice. Now, I do get a kick out of your taking a piss, especially in the morning when you stand there holding that log trying to make it go down enough to pee. But I'm bored," she said, stressing the word again.

"And," she continued, "I've never been on — shall we say — this end of sex. I'm not quite sure how this is going to work, but I do know that it will beat your lying in bed with that thing in your shorts throbbing forever until you finally go to sleep. Now get off your ass and make love to those two in there."

-------

Jeff sat again on the side of the bed, waiting. His hand reached out for Little One.

{{{ Her mind is in turmoil, but she tries to dream of happier days. Her body is healing and her sexual organs have started to regrow. Tomorrow by this time, she will be fully functional sexually. But ... she cycles between remembering the horror she has experienced and the wonderful days of her early adulthood. I need to see her in ... three days to make certain that everything is ... going according to ... plan. Her mind is another matter, best left alone by me. But I have an idea. We will have to see if it is fruitful. }}}

Jeff sat wondering if he had translated properly what the Healer had just sent — particularly the "going according to plan." He had seen flashes of his young wives along with emotions that suggested it be interpreted as young adulthood. Yeah, he thought he had the gist of it correct. But Little One was worried, that much was for certain.

Thinking their conversation was over, he had started to remove his hand when, {{{ She will need love and understanding from her mate, and the support of the others of you around her, especially in the beginning. }}}

Just as the connection was broken, Jeff got a flash of the men's faces that he had seen through Jill's memories, and — hatred of them from Little One.

He put his hand back on the Healer and tried to send her his love.

Shortly, Little One moved and the blue glow disappeared. Jeff picked the Healer up and returned her to her hiding place on his shoulders.

Let's get this over with,  he said to Little One as he walked to the door.

Jeff walked out into the sitting room, motioned for Diana to get up out of the chair, and sat down. Pulling her into his lap, he hugged her close to him, saying nothing for a time.

Finally looking toward the couple on the couch, "She's ready to be awakened. You've told them, Di?" he questioned. At her nod, he continued, "I wish I had advice, but I've told you about all I can right now. Just love her and be with her. She's gone through more than anyone should. And ... she feels as if she is spoiled goods — unworthy," he said desperately trying to convey what he had realized from Jill's memories, without being too specific and have them wonder how he could know exactly what happened to her.

"Bill," Diana said as the couple got up from the couch. "Rape victims are..."

"Frequently afraid of men," the pilot finished for her. "I know. But I'm going to try to hold her if she'll let me. We're going to hold her," he amended. "She struggled in my arms in the living room when she was so weak ... We'll see what happens."



-------

Chapter 16


Bill and Kathy hesitantly approached the bed where Jill lay sleeping.

"What if she's afraid of me?" Bill whispered. "She started crying when she saw me, and tried to get out of my arms when I picked her up in the living room before, but she was so weak."

Kathy stopped and looked at her husband. "She probably will be, at least to some extent if it was as bad as Jeff said, but I still say, let her wake up in your arms. Let me do most of the talking, though; just reassure her. But don't act like you're expecting her to be afraid of you. Act like the loving husband that you are."

Both slipped their shoes off and got gingerly onto the bed. Kathy nodded to Bill and they each lay next to Jill as Bill took her gently into his arms. She even moved a little in her sleep to snuggle tighter against him, which opened Bill's emotions. He bit back tears and hugged her.

After a moment, "Jill. It's Kathy. You can wake up now. Everything is fine. Bill and I are here with you. You're safe now."

Kathy had to repeat it several times before Jill became fully aware, but just as she was awakening the door opened again and Linda walked in to sit beside Bill. Reaching over, she took her mother's hand and kissed it. Having been prompted by Diana, she said, "You're home now. We're all here. You're safe."

"You're healed, Baby," Bill whispered to her. "No more AIDS, no more upset stomach, no more drug withdrawal. No one will hurt you any more. I give you my word that bastard will never hurt you again."

Expressions chased themselves across Jill's face. She remembered Bill's promise to her father. Bill had never broken a promise to her — to anyone that she knew of. Then, "You give your word?" she repeated, half question, half statement — all desperate hope.

"My word," Bill quietly responded, but emphasizing.

There was quiet for a moment, then, "Oh, Bill. I've done some despicable things ... I'm so ashamed. I'm trash..." The tears began — and the memories.

"Hush," he said, lightly touching her lips. "You only did what you were forced to do by that animal who calls himself a man. You are my wife, just as you always were."

"But ... I ... I fucked them. They made me do things ... Oh, God, Bill," she sobbed. "How can you ever forgive me?"

"Hush," he said, his voice shaky. "There is nothing to forgive, Baby. Nothing. You haven't done anything wrong."

Kathy buried her face next to Jill's as they lay side-by-side, and talked quietly in her ear. "Hush. We know. We know," Kathy repeated. "Don't cry. We all love you. We're all in this together with you. You did nothing wrong. Your husband loves you. Linda loves you. I, your sister-wife, love you."

"Sister-wife?" Jill repeated, the sobs quieting for a moment, her voice a little curious now.

"Yes, we're both married to Bill. We — you and I — are sister-wives now. We share him and we love each other as sisters. Sister-wives."

The door opened again and Diana walked in carrying a tray. "Well, our sleeping beauty is awake," she said in a deliberately light and happy voice. "Now you two scat out of the way and let this hungry woman eat," she said. When they moved, Diana extended the legs on the tray and sat it across Jill's lap.

"Let's raise you up a bit," she said putting another pillow behind Jill's back, "so you can eat. I have it on good authority that you're hungry, and the food won't come back up like before."

As Diana uncovered the dishes, the smells triggered Jill's appetite. Before Jill could say anything, though, Diana continued with her bluster. "Don't even think about having stomach problems. You don't have them anymore. You can eat all you wish, and you're going to be extremely hungry until your weight comes back. We have mountains of food anytime you want it. Now here," Diana said handing Jill a glass, "this is fresh squeezed orange juice the girls made just for you. You'll get to meet them later, but they send their love."

Diana stood back to watch for a few seconds, then leaning forward, touched Jill's shoulder. "You were very sick when you got here, and didn't get to meet everyone. That can come later when you want it to. Just enjoy your family and know that the rest of us care for you as well. You're home. This is your home now, just as it is Bill, Kathy and Linda's. Just enjoy your family."

Jill stumbled out her thanks. Diana hugged everyone and left.

Jill took a tentative first bite and her taste buds seemed to almost explode with sensation. The taste of the food seemed magnified, somehow, the food better than anything she had ever tasted. Shortly she realized that she was eating much too fast, and forced herself to wait a moment, worried. Her stomach felt fine, though. She sat up straighter, careful to not upset the tray as she did so. I feel wonderful. What's happened? Ingles said I had AIDS."

The thought of her tormentor sent a surge of terror through her body as a cascade of memories assailed her. He will find me. I know he will. He'll make me go with him ... He said I could never get away from the conditioning.

"Jill... Jill." Kathy's insistent voice broke through her thoughts. Jill's mind slowly focused on the moment again. Realizing that Kathy had her hand on the tray to keep the food from spilling, Jill took a deep breath, but she couldn't stop the tears from forming in her eyes.

"Here, Mom," Linda said trying to distract her. "I've put some of your favorite jelly on the toast. Try it."

Absently, Jill took the toast from her daughter and took a bite. It was good, indeed. She couldn't remember food ever tasting this good.

But just as she thought she had her memory under control, Bill reached out to stroke her hair. With Ingles fresh on her mind, she flinched. She realized it a second after she had done it, and the look of anguish it caused her husband tore her heart, but she couldn't find words, and the terror grew again in her mind.

Bill withdrew his hand, looking shaken.

"Bill, I..." Jill tried to say while the terror of Ingles surged now that her system was totally free from the drugs and her mind was clear to remember. The memories showed on her face as she stared at her husband.

"I know," Bill said, as the look on her face felt like a knife in his heart. "I ... uh ... I understand," he stammered. Then, "Look, I've got some things to do. I'll leave you to eat. I'll be back..."

"Bill..." from Kathy.

"I'll be back in a little while," he finished, backing away, then quickly walked out of the room.

"Be back in a minute," Kathy said as she got up to follow Bill while Jill covered her face and cried.

Catching up with him in the sitting room just before he got to the outer door, "Bill. We talked about this..."

Bill spun around. "Hell, yes. I know what the problem is. My wife has been abused — Lord knows how — and raped. Repeatedly. I understand. But she flinched when I touched her. You saw the look on her face. Do you know how that makes me feel? Will she ever be the same Jill I married?"

Kathy grabbed him in a full frontal hug, pressing her breasts to him and embracing him tightly. "I'm sorry, but she just flinched. It will be all right. She just needs time."

Madison stayed tense. "It wasn't just the flinch. Don't deny you saw the look on her face," he said pushing Kathy back a little to look her in the eyes. "Baby, she has treated me so hatefully for the last year. I thought I had her back there for a little while, then she fucking flinched. Was that fear or hatred on her face?"

"Bill, she didn't flinch away for the same reasons that she did back in Saint Louis. She was ordered to do those things then. The fear is because of the rapes..."

"So how do you know that?" Bill asked. "Maybe Ingles' conditioning and instructions are still working. Maybe they always will be." Sighing, he took a couple of steps to sit on the couch. "Do you know how it makes me feel to realize that my wife has ... had men — I don't know how many — inside her body. Men who shot off in her — came in her, pumped their sperm into her? Yeah, I know that she was raped, and despite what women always seem to say about men not understanding some things that only women understand, well, maybe there are some things that men understand that women don't. The thought of another man coming inside my wife tears my guts out, whether you understand that or not."

"Bill, you're not holding her responsible..." Kathy said sitting down by him and taking his hand.

"Of course not," he vehemently answered. "Still, I can't get it off my mind, though. She said she fucked them. With the hypnosis driving her, I'm sure she did. That hurts, Kathy, despite the drugs and hypnosis. It hurts. I'm getting some vivid mental images of her doing that. Of them coming in her. It tears me up inside — then she flinches from me and gives me that look like she did back in Saint Louis. You have no idea how that makes me feel. Think about it. What if I flinched away when you touched me? How would you feel? Oh, fuck it. You don't understand. Hell, I guess I don't either. But there's still the year that she treated me like shit. Now she flinched just like she did back there when she was giving me hell — I guess per his instructions ... I just want to kill that bastard," he finished, whispering, his mind almost as screwed up as his wife's; his heart hurting.

Shaking his head, he leaned back and closed his eyes for a second. "Is she always going to be this way? Is she going to suddenly have that look on her face like she did a moment ago, then flinch from me? How in the hell can I ever make love to her if I'm expecting that? I'm not a fucking rapist, and it would seem like rape. I would be waiting for that flinch. Is she going to sleep with us, or am I assigned to another bed now?" he snarled."

Abruptly, he got up and walked out of the suite.

Kathy sat with tears forming in her eyes. Yesterday we were happy. Jill came back today and we were even happier. Now this. What am I going to do?

Bill had only walked a little way down the hall when Jeff stood up from one of the alcoves. One look at Bill's face and Jeff said, "We need to work out."

Bill stopped to stare at him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you can say the damndest things at the damndest times," he irritably responded. "I've got problems, Jeff. I know what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it. But I'm not in the mood."

"Yeah, you are," Jeff said grabbing him by an arm and spinning him around with an ease that just irritated the pilot more, then started them walking before Bill had quite regained his balance.

Bill snatched back and stopped. "Dammit, Jeff. I've got problems..."

"Yeah, and the two of us are going to work out, or you're going to have to whip my ass right here — right now."

The two men glared at each other for a few heartbeats, then Bill grinned in spite of himself, "Oh, fuck it. I guess we're going to work out. Let me change clothes..."

"No," Jeff responded as they started walking again.

"Damnit, Jeff. I've got on dress clothes..."

"So pull the shirt off. The pants will wash or go to the cleaners. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"I'm fine, Jeff."

"Sure you are," Jeff answered with an irritating grin on his face as he held the stairway door open. "Sure you are."

An hour later, Jeff had worked Bill until sweat flowed down his face and his knees were wobbling. The pilot now sat on a bench, his forearms on his thighs, leaning forward as he watched the small pool of accumulated sweat from his brow widen on the floor between his feet. The really irritating thing, Bill thought as Jeff handed him a coke, is that he has done everything I've done and barely broken a sweat. Fuck!

"Ready to talk about it now?" Jeff said as he sat across from Bill and crossed his legs.

"Ah, fuck. It's complicated," Bill complained.

Jeff took a sip of coke and leaned back, his grin getting bigger. "I've got nowhere to go and the rest of the day to get there. Let it rip."

I would get pissed, but I'm too fucking tired,  Bill thought as he too leaned back.

Jeff tossed him a fresh towel, then took a sip of his drink, waiting.

Bill sat the coke down and wiped his face, then took both hands to vigorously rub the towel on his head to dry his short hair. Looping the towel over his neck, he picked up his coke, looked up at the patiently waiting Jeff, and sighed. "She treated me like shit for the last year or so," he started with a quiet voice. "I guess ever since she went to see this Ingles. With what you've told me, I guess he drugged her and hypnotized her into doing what he told her to do. Anyway, she just suddenly changed, wouldn't make love any more, treated me like shit, flinched away from me when I touched her like my hands were ... hell I don't know — filthy of something. She picked fights, left without telling me where she was going ... and it got worse. Well, I've told you some of it, already.

"Before I went in that bedroom, I thought I was prepared. I thought I could handle it, but I tried to comfort her in there, and she flinched from me again, just like she did back in Saint Louis. God, Jeff, I just keep seeing her with men. They fucked my wife, Jeff. She fucked them. I know she was driven by the drugs and hypnosis, but ... Jeff they came in my wife. She was a virgin when we married ... I can't explain how I feel. I could handle everything, though. I wanted to hold her and comfort her, but when I touched her, she fucking flinched from my touch. How the hell am I going to handle that? I thought I could, but it hit me hard."

Bill's hands were shaking as he glared at Jeff. "I'm not an asshole, Jeff. I don't hold her responsible. Hell, I hurt for her, but she can't flinch from me. That's what she did at home when she was deliberately making my life miserable. I just keep seeing some faceless slob fucking her and she's fucking him back." They sat looking at each other for a moment, then Bill sighed, "Fuck. You just don't understand."

They sat quietly again, both men thinking. Jeff finished his coke and absently threw the can in the trashcan that was sitting fifteen feet away; the can landed dead center. Fuck,  Bill thought, Does he do everything perfectly?

Jeff broke into Bill's thoughts with, "I hope Diana will forgive me for this, but I'm going to tell you something. Something that only my wives and I know."

Bill didn't know what to say. "Uh, Jeff..."

"The process used to heal and enhance everyone here has an aspect that we didn't know about in the beginning. To make a long story short, Diana had broken her ankle in a way that couldn't be healed in any reasonable time, if ever, and worse, meant she faced a lifetime of pain. I used the process on her, and then Arlene, without telling either of them. I thought it would only heal injuries, and had no idea that it would do anything else. In particular, I didn't know that it would enhance them sexually, let alone that it would drive their sexual responsiveness off the chart. Worse, they had no idea what was happening to them, whatsoever. And I screwed up big-time. This almost destroyed my marriage and our family."

Jeff's voice hardened as he stared at Bill. "It started when some jackass who lived near us caught Arlene and her boyfriend fooling around sexually with each other, took pictures of them and threatened to show the pictures to me if she didn't fuck him. He pushed himself on her and she couldn't resist, both because of the threats and because her sexual responsiveness had been so increased due to the enhancements — she couldn't help herself. He raped her virginity from her, but Arlene thought it was her fault because the enhancements she didn't know about made her like it. Then he caught Diana and Arlene doing some silly things and used that to coerce them into letting him fuck them, and Diana had the same enhancement problem Arlene did. But it was more than that with Diana — I hadn't been treating her the way she wanted to be treated, while the jackass did. She wanted to be dominated, but I wouldn't do that, and Jackass was the first man in her life who sexually dominated her. So she responded to that, and I mean sexually. This was sort of true for Arlene too.

I told you that the enhancements mostly developed things that were latent with us. Well, Diana was a latent Queen Bitch, and I was her latent Alpha, I guess you could say. Queen Bitches want their Alphas to dominate them. That may not be totally true for all Queen Bitches, but I think it probably is in general. She had wanted me to do that to her all along, but I didn't until it was almost too late. This goes back to early in our marriage, when she was still in high school and we were living with her parents. I couldn't do that then because it wasn't safe, since we had no real privacy, but didn't even after we had moved out on our own, and never did until our marriage almost died over it.

So Diana didn't just want to be sexually dominated as she had earlier, she needed to be dominated because of the enhancements, and so did Arlene to a lesser extent. Plus their sexual responsiveness had been hyped way up, so they loved the way Jackass treated them, and everything he said and did turned them on sexually like they'd never been before. And they loved it all. They knew it was wrong but couldn't help themselves."

"Oh, shit, Jeff. I'm sorry. Look you don't have to..."

Jeff went grimly on. "I heard something on the phone and got suspicious. I came home and snuck into the house. I watched some of it going down and couldn't do anything about it because I heard enough to know that other things had to happen before I could end it. I watched my wife and daughter fucking an asshole who abused them, and they loved every bit of it. Diana responded to him way more than she ever did to me. When it was over, I went outside and puked my guts out. I know where you're coming from, Bill. I damn sure know."

There was dead quiet for a while, then, "I burned his fucking house down to make sure his pictures of them didn't get out. I managed to not kill him, but I fucked him up bad. Real bad. But I was still messed up inside. Arlene stepped in eventually and got Diana and I back together. I would never have fucked my daughter — never. She didn't take no for an answer, though, and made me sexually dominate them. She is the reason that Diana and I made it; although, Diana has done everything she absolutely could to make it up to me. In looking back, the deal with Arlene was what triggered the Queen Bitch in Diana, I guess. After that, it just seems like Diana kept arranging for more girls and women."

Jeff sighed aloud. "Bill, I know that things look bleak now, but Diana says that Jill's coming back will trigger the full-bore Queen Bitch syndrome in Kathy. Just hold yourself together. Kathy will make this thing work. She has Diana and Evie to help her, and Margaret as well, although Margaret isn't a Queen Bitch. At least not yet.

"Buddy, I watched that son-of-a-bitch fuck my wife. Watched her fuck him back. Watched him pump his shit into her pussy ... I knocked his front teeth out when I rammed the barrel of my .45 in his mouth. Sometimes, I am still amazed I didn't pull the trigger. I kicked his ribs in. I kicked him in his balls — hard — several times. I dumped him out at the hospital, and I do mean dumped. Later, I had ... someone check to see what the doctors did to him. They wound up having to take both his balls off. He won't rape or coerce anyone again."

Bill, unable to think of anything to say, watched his friend sitting with vacant eyes, his mind on something that only he could see.

Mentally shaking himself, Jeff continued, "I won't say it will be easy. We both know that is bullshit. I never thought I could get through it, but thanks to Arlene — and to Diana, who wouldn't give up — I'm happier now than I've ever been. I still dream of killing that bastard, but every time I think about that empty nut sack he's carrying around, I'm glad I didn't. He got his rocks off inside my wife and daughter, but he will never get them off again in another woman — ever.

"What else will he do, though? He's a scumbag. Will he kill someone now that I've let him live? Will he abuse some woman because he can't fuck?"

"Shit, Jeff," Bill whispered.

"I don't know whether you love her enough, or not. I had about decided that I didn't love Di enough and was seriously thinking about divorcing her when she got desperate and cooked up the scheme to have Arlene seduce me. I know how hard it is to think about another man coming in your wife. Believe me, I know. But Diana was worth it in the end. You're an Alpha, too. This will work out if you decide it is going to. But puking helps," he finished with a sick grin on his face. "I know that too — intimately. Did that in Georgia after I saw them. It followed me out here for the first month or so. I hung over a commode time and again with the memory of that bastard fucking my wife."

"Damn,  Jeff..." was all Bill was able to get out. He still had no idea what to say.

"I know a rape is bad on a woman, but what she and all the support groups don't understand, is it's no bed of roses for the husband, either — especially, as in your case — when she flinches away from you and treats you like you are the rapist. That didn't happen to me, thank goodness, but I've heard one of my people whose wife was raped, complain about it. They were finally divorced because even after a year, she wouldn't sleep with him, no matter what he tried. Rapists shouldn't be put in jail; they should be hung by their balls at a busy intersection and left to rot. And I mean that as a literal statement, not some kind of sick joke. Fuck our 'humane' laws. The sick fucks need to be an example for the rest of the sick fucks to see."

Both men sat quietly for a time, each lost in his own thoughts, then, "Jeff, what if her flinch was still his conditioning like he had her do to me in Saint Louis? I guess he was trying to get me to divorce her or something. She made my life hell, though — or he did, as the case may be. What if it is both his conditioning and her fear of me now?

"I thought I was prepared for this. I guess I should be in there with her now trying to comfort her. But you should have seen the look in her eyes. I don't think I'm man enough to stand her looking at me like that very much."

Jeff stood. "You want another coke?"

Bill put his empty can down. "Yeah," he chuckled. "I think I inhaled that one."

Jeff walked over to the refrigerator, took out two drinks and tossed Bill one. Coming back, he reseated himself and grinned at his brother Alpha, though the grin was a sick one. Then, unexpectedly, "What happened when you tried your pheromones on Kathy?"

"Well, I ... Hell, Jeff, I'm not sure I can do the pheromone thing like you can."

"What did she do?" Jeff insisted.

Bill sighed. "About fucked me to death, then fainted."

Jeff took another sip of his drink and thought for a moment. "If you can do the pheromone thing, then you can probably do what else you need to do. You probably have unconsciously been producing pheromones all your life to some, probably small extent, but now that your body and mind have been enhanced, you can do it at will.

"You told me that you wouldn't let yourself think about Kathy when she first came to work for you, even though you realized that you could fall in love with her, so I doubt if you really called her, either. And with the drugs and hypnosis, Ingles took over Jill's mind..."

Bill stared at Jeff, wondering what he was talking about.

"Dave did it, unconsciously, to Kim. I think Tate is doing it to his women. You can. Some women get over a rape fairly easily. Others on the other end of the spectrum don't ever get over it. This wasn't just a rape, no matter how horrible that can be — it was far more. The ... process," he said his eyes showing his regret from not being able to say more, "can't heal her mind, but I wonder if the answer isn't something from a different approach."

Jeff took another sip of coke and grinned. "You were in the military. Ever dread those shots? I used a very simple technique to make that little irritation much less. I simply focused strongly on something else, usually just started a conversation about something that required me to think. Hell, once, I didn't even notice that they had done anything at all. Same process here. If she's too busy thinking about something else, she won't dwell so much on her abuse."

"Well, that's easy enough to say, but covering up a simple needle prick is one thing..."

"Call her. Really call her to be your mate. You have a lot more going for you than I did — you know what happened to Jill wasn't her fault, and you know about your pheromones and psychic abilities.""

Bill frowned. "Look, Jeff, obviously, she's already my wife..."

"Look what your pheromones did to that female pilot you talked about. Yeah, that was pheromones, but you were just noticing her breasts — thinking sexual thoughts — but you weren't calling her to be your mate. It can happen accidentally because we already love them, but it can happen, also, when we decide to do it. You love her. She loves you. You need to override the Ingles' factor."

"Jeff, I'm not sure I want to do that to her, even if I actually can..."

"Yeah," Jeff sighed, "it's a little like what Ingles did. What we have can be used in bad ways, too. Is, for that matter, I imagine. All Alphas are not good people. Hell, I suspect that some of our prominent politicians are Alphas. They haven't been enhanced — thank God — but there are a number of Alphas in the world. But calling her to be your mate might very well override the remnants of Ingles conditioning. And now that you're enhanced, you can. With time, she'll be completely free of the hypnosis, I think."

"Jeff, I don't know how to do this," Bill said as he threw his empty can toward the trashcan, hitting it without thought — and not even noticing that he had. "I've heard you and Dave talking about this, but I really don't think I even understand what you're..."

Jeff's mood lightened noticeably. "Stop denying it and listen to me. You've already given up and agreed that you're an Alpha. Your Queen is in there with your first wife right now doing all she can to solve her new family's problems. Queens are definitely involved in the 'calling' of new wives — that's another advantage you have over what happened to my family. Linda is trying to help, too. It's time for you to do your part. Diana, Arlene and I all thought they acted like sluts with that asshole because they really were sluts, thought they were in fact as bad as they seemed, and we still got over it. You and Jill have it better than we did, damn it, and you both know that what she did wasn't her fault. Linda is trying to help, too. It's time for you to do your part. Now let's quit fucking around feeling sorry for ourselves and get down to brass tacks, as the old folks used to say..."

-------

Jill was propped up with a bunch of pillows with Kathy sitting and holding her hand. Jill had cried herself out for the time being.

"Jill, I'm stuck in the middle here. I can understand what happened, and I guess our husband understands, but he's hurt and you're hurt, too."

"But ... I couldn't help it. Ingles made me do that for so long, and when Bill touched me, oh..."

"Don't start again, Jill," Kathy forcefully said. "We've been through that. You've cried for the better part of a half hour. We have to work this out. We're going to work this out."

Grabbing Jill's chin, Kathy made Jill look at her. "Do you love him?"

"You know I do," Jill sniffed. "But my mind is clear now. I was in a fog for so long. But ... I ... remember all those things that Ingles did to me. When Bill touched me ... I guess that all those orders from Ingles about how I should treat Bill to make him divorce me ... Oh, God, Kathy. I'm so mixed up."

"So the good doctor ordered you to reject our husband?"

"Yeah, and to pick fights with him, to ... jerk away from him when he tried to touch me. He wanted Bill to divorce me so he could get the money. Oh, Kathy, will I ever be able to treat my husband like..."

"Certainly. Sure you will. This is just a temporary thing. We'll work this out," Kathy interjected squeezing Jill's hand. "This crap will go away. Just hang in there," she said, having no idea whether she were right or not. I have to talk to Diana. I'm in over my head here.

Doesn't take a genius to realize that ol' Ingles is still with us. What the crap am I going to do? His damned hypnosis is obviously still working. I don't think the flinch was because of the rapes. Well, not entirely. I think Ingles' — what's the term? — post-hypnotic suggestions are still with her. What am I going to do? I need, somehow, to get out of here and ask Diana what she thinks about this.

"I've got to pee," Jill said, interrupting Kathy's frantic thoughts.

Kathy got up so Jill could turn to the side of the bed.

Oh, fuck. Now she's going to see herself as soon as she pulls those clothes down.

Kathy followed Jill into the bathroom, staying back a little, then turning to pretend to wash her hands as Jill went into one of the partitions, pulled her pants and panties down and sat on the commode.

Kathy heard the flow start, then stood holding her breath as it finished. Oh, please pat instead of wiping. Kathy, desperate, said more loudly than she intended, hoping to distract, "Tell me again where this asshole's office was."

"Uh, in the same building where my regular gynecologist was. There was a note on the door with several doctors listed. I chose the one in the same building. Ingles was on the sixth floor."

Jill stepped out with her pants already pulled up. The relief was so strong that Kathy almost felt dizzy. Then the bomb dropped.

"I need a bath. I haven't showered since I spent the night with those nice people."

"Uh, I'll ... I'll take one with you," Kathy blurted. "This is such a beautiful shower," she said as she gestured. "The Matthews had the whole suite redone for Linda and me. Of course, we don't use it now since we got married..."

Oh, great. I just had to remind her that her daughter was married — to a guy with two other wives. Of course, that glare she gave me as she pulled her pants down kept her from seeing herself as she bent over. There's going to be a lot of screaming in here shortly,  she inanely thought as her desperate mind almost made her giggle.

Jill pulled her top off, then unfastened her bra and dropped it on her clothes.

"My clothes, such as they are, are still in my car," Jill said as she turned to step into the shower.

"The girls have already gotten your stuff out of the car and put everything in your drawers while you slept. They've also added a bunch of clothes of theirs. And before you think it, they're not hand-me-downs either. They're new clothes that they haven't worn yet. Diana left you a couple of her new bras that she thought you could get by with until we can get you some new ones."

Kathy had stripped off her own clothes and followed Jill into the big shower. Damn,  she thought. How is Bill even going to notice me with my sister-wife around? Crap, this woman would be beautiful in a sack.



NOTE FROM ROUST:

I'm having computer problems and have had to do a fresh install of Windows XP. Now I have to get my router, modem, etc. all to recognize each other again, not to mention getting my video card running properly and install a bunch of programs, so I'll probably not be answering e-mails for awhile. See you next week — maybe. LOL.

Roust





-------

Chapter 17

 ... Kathy had stripped off her own clothes and followed Jill into the big shower. Damn,  she thought. How is Bill even going to notice me with my sister-wife around? This woman would be beautiful in a sack.

The new wife tried to pull her thoughts from Jill's voluptuous nude body. "There are several shampoos, conditioners and soaps there," she said pointing. "Most of them are expensive brands that I have seldom seen, and Wal-Mart doesn't stock. Here, they're just the standard. Jeff has tons of money, and well, you know how rich Mr. Wainwright is, since our husband has worked for him for years."

"'Our husband, '" Jill repeated. "This is going to take some getting used to," she said with an odd inflection in her voice as she selected a shampoo.

Belatedly, Kathy realized that Jill would lean forward as she shampooed. Desperately, Kathy tried to think of something to distract Jill, but the woman leaned over as she flipped her hair in front of her to wet under the shower. The abundance of gorgeous hair cascaded down, and ... she stepped under the falling water.

Kathy tensed, but when nothing happened, Oh, shit. She must have closed her eyes,  she mentally sighed. Feeling almost drawn to help with Jill's hair, she stepped close and asked, "Can I help?"

Not waiting for an answer, she took the shampoo gently from Jill's hand as she stepped back out of the spray. Pouring some of the shampoo in her hand, she set the bottle down on a shelf and began massaging the soap into Jill's hair and scalp.

"Oh, that feels good," Jill sighed. "But you don't have to..."

"Relax and let me," Kathy soothed.

In moving around, Kathy had gotten her first glimpse of Jill's pussy mound. With her, it actually was a very distinct, though small mound. Her stomach and waist were so tiny that her lower belly arched up a little to form the sexiest mound Kathy had ever seen. There weren't any lips visible beneath her mound, though. There was the mere starting of a vulva at the top, then it tapered quickly away to nothing. Jill had neatly-trimmed, sparse hair that was slightly darker than the hair on her head. What little she had, hid nothing — literally nothing.

Oh, my. It's not bad enough that she is beautiful, her pussy — well, if she had one — is almost presented with her little mound. She's even beautiful down there, and when her pussy actually comes back...  Kathy realized that she had somehow come to trust Jeff in the short time she had known him. He said that Jill would be complete tomorrow afternoon, and I believe him. She'll be whole then, and even more beautiful.

Diana says that I'm going to be this woman's Queen. I've known her for a couple of years, but never felt like her Queen before — however a Queen is supposed to feel. How can I be a Queen to someone so gorgeous? Crap, she even attracts me. Diana said that might happen. I can't like girls. I'm a girl who likes guys. How can I possibly be a Queen to someone so much prettier than I am? she asked herself yet again.

"Here, step forward and let's rinse," Kathy found herself saying, "then we'll get the conditioner on and leave it for a few minutes while you bathe."

Kathy, wildly hoping that Jill wouldn't notice herself, chattered like a magpie, while Jill washed her face, neck, those gorgeous breasts, then her belly. The washcloth went lower. There was a startled look on Jill's face and she suddenly bent over to look at herself. Kathy made a too-late frantic grab at Jill's shoulder to prevent it...

-------

Carla and Jessica walked out of the bedroom holding hands. With the TV muted, Fred could hear the bedroom door open, so was already looking in that direction. Although the women had been sleeping nude with him, the sight of them in identical pale-red, almost sheer negligées got his attention in a hurry.

"Oh, look at that," Brenda exclaimed in his mind.

Baby, I don't... 

"Don't start again with that crap," Brenda warned.

You sure? Are you absofuckinglutely sure? If you bail out in the middle of this... 

"'Bail out?' When did I ever 'bail out' on anything? Now make love to those two women before they decide you're an idiot," the voice in his mind admonished. And for the first time, he seemed to be able to feel his dead wife's emotions.

"Still worried about me now?" she said.

We'll see,  he said in his mind.

"You two are beautiful. A sight, as they say, for sore eyes. I guess I never fully understood that expression, but come here and let's see if we can figure it out together," he said with a grin.

Both came to stand before him as he sat on the couch. "We've decided," Carla, unnecessarily said. "Brenda said it was okay, and well, Sam has been gone a long time now..."

"And we both love you," Jessica broke in.

"Tell them, you big dummy. Quit fucking around. Tell them. They're all tense worrying that you will reject them again."

Fred grasped a hand of each woman and gently pulled them down on either side of him on the couch. Putting his arms around their shoulders, he sighed. "I love you, too. I mean ... I'm in love with each of you. I've been holding back..."

"Oh, we know why you were holding back," Jessica teased. "We've gone over this again and again. But we had a talk with your wife while you napped."

"Yeah, I gathered that," Fred chuckled. "So you've been conspiring against me."

"Fred. This isn't the time to be kidding around..." the voice in his head chimed in.

Carla got up and immediately straddled his legs. Leaning over, she put her mouth to his, at first gently, then after a few seconds, her mouth opened slightly as her tongue touched his lips asking for entrance.

Fred could feel Junior starting to respond. Brenda, are you sure? Baby, I can't stand much of this and stop. If we go much further... 

Raw emotion clouded his mind for a second. "Does that feel like I'm unsure? Now stop being a pussy and make love to her before I go insane in here."

Carla pulled back, giggling, obviously having heard Brenda.

Fred wondered how sane any of them truly were, but pulled the woman back with a hand on her neck and let his emotions go. Carla sighed and vigorously returned the kiss, making a sound in her throat.

Junior was struggling to get out of his shorts as Fred stood up with Carla in his arms. As he turned back to the couch to lay her on it, Brenda chimed in, "No. There isn't room to properly make love to two women here. Carry her to the bed."

"Stay right there," Fred told a smiling Jessica. "I'll be right back."

Jessica stood. "No, silly, you can't carry both of us. I know you love me. I'll walk."

Fred had already taken a step toward the bedroom with Carla in his arms, but stopped and looked around. "No. Please wait, Jess. I'll be right back ... Please."

Jessica blushed, but quickly sat back down on the couch. "Okay," she meekly said.

In the bedroom, Fred put Carla gently on the bed, stopping for a moment to kiss her again. She pulled herself to him as he bent over her, but quickly broke the kiss. "Go get my daughter, please. She loves you so much."

"Okay, be right back."

As he approached the couch and bent down, Jessica grinned up at him, "This is silly, I can..."

Fred seemed to effortlessly scoop her up. Giggling, she hugged herself to him as he quickly walked into the bedroom with his squirming burden. Shortly, she was beside her mother.

Fred stripped off his tee shirt and started to drop his shorts and underwear, when Carla sat up and took his hand. "Let me."

Jessica had turned on her side to watch as Carla pulled his clothes down to release his cock. She chuckled and stared at it as the tip barely missed her face as it sprang free. "I've seen it before; held it while we were in bed, but seeing it up close like this..." she said staring at the head only inches from her face. She left the sentence unfinished, unconsciously opening her mouth slightly as she thought about how it would feel to suck his thick cock. Her daughter had certainly liked it.

"Oh, Baby," she whispered as she cupped his balls with one hand while gently grasping his cock with the other, "if size has anything to do with it, your balls have a lot of sperm in there."

Automatically, since Sam had liked it, she slowly stroked Fred's cock while putting a little more pressure with her thumb on the center of his shaft following the route his sperm would take as he ejaculated.

"Oh, shit, that feels good," Fred muttered.

Carla wet her fingertips with precome that was already starting to flow, then smeared it over the head. Her hand moved a little faster now and her grip tightened.

"My buddy would already have come the first time by now," Jessica giggled.

"Fred won't," Carla emphatically said. "He's a man, not a boy. No matter how good-intentioned your boyfriend was, he was still just a boy becoming a man. Fred won't come until he wants to. Isn't that right, Baby?"

"No, I won't," Fred sighed. "I have to will myself to come. I've never had to hold back like some guys. Jeff says he's that way, too. But, as good as this feels, let's stop for now," he finished, gently removing Carla's hands and urging her to lie beside her daughter.

"You look good," Jessica said as he sat and she reached over to run her hand down his arm. "You used to have a tummy, but it's flat now. Those weights of Dad's have done a job on your arms and chest, not to mention what the running has done to your legs. I get goose bumps just looking at you."

"Well, I don't have a six pack yet," Fred laughed, "but I'm working on it. Truthfully, as you know, most of the credit goes to whatever Jeff did to me. There hasn't been nearly enough time to get this much result with the weights or by running. And I think Junior has grown a little, too. But I'm not complaining," he laughed.

Then his mood going more serious, he stopped and looked at each of them. "I've never made love to two women at the same time. Truthfully, my experience with anyone other than Brenda is minuscule, and even that was as a teenager before we got together. Jeff and his wives seem to get along without any problems, so I guess that's proof that this type of thing can work. But before we begin, I want to make it clear that I love each of you equally. I won't intentionally show more affection for one over the other of you. But if I mess up, please let me know about it. If there's a problem, just perceived or otherwise, don't let it grow and fester. Brenda and I always aired our little problems before they became big ones. I think the three of us are going to have to do the same for this to work."

Carla took her daughter's hand, smiled at her, then at Fred. "This caught us by surprise to begin with, but we've always talked, probably more like sisters than mother and daughter. This will work. And we're not going into it blind. We've talked to Diana a lot about it. Well, all Jeff's wives. Diana says that a lot of the problems are already solved because you're an Alpha. Alphas expect and require their women to get along. She tried to explain it to me, and the girls have tried to do the same thing with Jessica. But the bottom line is what I just said. Jeff expects it and won't accept anything else.

"You're a loving man, but no one in this room thinks you're a pushover. Jeff is also loving to his wives. He loves his women; allows them to run the home, but when he speaks, they listen. Everyone there knows he is the ultimate authority. You're the same way. You're gentle with us, and we know that we are safe with you and you will protect us, but you're our Alpha. We have seen it in you and we can feel it. We get hot when you walk into a room with us. We know your age, but no one would believe it. We also know that much of this came from Jeff, but you would turn us on regardless of your age, even if you looked it. I guess what I'm saying is to just make love to us. The one who isn't receiving your attention will understand. We've discussed this more than you realize."

Fred pulled both of them up to hug them as they all sat on the bed. "My dick has gone down some while we were jawing," he laughed, pointing.

"I've got the answer to that," Jessica giggled as she leaned over and put her mouth over the head of Fred's cock.

"Oh, shit," Fred hissed as she sucked.

Junior woke up.

After a little while, Jessica pulled her mouth off, a smug look on her face, his cock like a steel bar. Very tenderly kissing him on the mouth for a moment, she cupped his cheek lovingly with her hand. "Make love to my mom first. I'm going to be over here to the side watching, and, uh ... playing with myself a little," she finished, her cheeks flaring to go with her quiet little giggle.

Fred, still feeling a little uncomfortable with Jessica watching, not to mention the strangely quiet Brenda in his mind, lay beside Carla and took her in his arms. After just hugging her for awhile, he trailed his fingertips down her side and across her flat stomach. He drew invisible circles there for a time before his hand glided southward again, but avoided her sex to lightly grip the inside of her thigh. She had moaned out a weak protest when his hand had slid past her sex. After lightly caressing her inner thigh for a moment, he crossed his hand to her other leg, then gently caressed and stroked his way past her pussy again and up her other side, stopping just below her other breast.

"Oh, Fred. It's been sooo long," Carla managed to get out past a sigh.

Fred slipped his hand under the tiny strap over her shoulder and slipped it down. She quickly helped him get it below her elbow and off her arm, freeing her left breast. Smiling, he repeated the process for the other arm, then gently pulled the top down to free both breasts. "Oh, Baby, they look good," he said as he traced a fingertip around an aureole, barely missing her already-swollen nipple. "I've tried to avoid really looking at your breasts. I wanted to, but I felt guilty every time I looked at them. But now I can really look," he said as he leaned over, his mouth approaching her nipple.

Carla, way beyond waiting for the slow approach, grabbed the back of his head with one hand and her breast with the other, inserting the nipple and a little of her breast in his mouth.

"Suck," she wailed as her orgasm approached. "Suck hard. I ... can't stand ... waiting ... any more," the last word going up an octave as her orgasm hit with force.

Fred could hear whimpering from Jessica, but couldn't see much unless he moved his head to the side, but it was obvious from the sounds and smells that she had brought herself off at the same time her mother had reached her peak.

Damn, both of them are ready,  he thought as he slipped his mouth off Carla's nipple.

"No shit, Sherlock. You have been sleeping nude with them, plus neither has had a man in over two years. And if what Diana says is true, you've just dumped a bunch of pheromones into this room. Now get your cock in her before she has a stroke," Brenda laughed in his mind.

Yeah, but you always liked to have your pussy kissed. I'll bet she does, too,  Fred mentally answered as he slid down in the bed, pushed Carla's legs wider, cupped his big hands under her hips, and lifted her up a couple of inches so that he wouldn't strain his neck.

Talk about pussy on a platter,  he thought as he lifted her hips to bring her pussy close to his mouth. There was already the beginning of a stain on the sheet as his tongue touched her entrance and pushed. Carla shrieked and bucked, her hands coming to rest on his head as she pushed upward with her hips and pulled his face into her sopping pussy at the same time.

Well, I sure can't complain about her not being responsive, Fred thought, unaware that the healer had heightened the women's responses as she had healed them.

"I've never tasted another woman's pussy before," his dead wife told him. "I was worried about this part, but all of a sudden, it's a real turn-on. Lick her clit and see what she does."

Carla screamed and yanked harder on his hair, her body trembling into another orgasm.

I guess that's your answer. She's about to snatch me bald, and that's what ... her third orgasm?

"I don't know. I think she had a little one in between the last two. So I guess this one is four."

Brenda, I ain't this good,  he thought back, using the colloquialism to stress his point. Hell, I've only teased her for a few minutes before I started licking her pussy, and even then I only made her wait for a little while before I actually licked her clit.

"She's been without. She's had a couple of weeks of anticipation while she got to see your body, and ... I think the room is full of pheromones. But why do you give a shit? You were always my stud. Now you can see why I didn't want you sharing that cock with anyone else."

"Cock ... Put your cock in me," Carla mumbled as if hearing Brenda. "Need your cock ... in me. Now," she gasped out as she tried to pull him on top of her.

Fred obliged her and slid into position. As he reached down to guide himself, he felt Jessica's hand. "Mom and I talked about this. We each want to do this," she said as she put his cock against her mother's entrance.

"Push, but be gentle," Jessica admonished, then quickly added, "Oh, saying that is ridiculous. I know you would never deliberately hurt us."

It was obvious Carla hadn't had sex in a while. She was tight and almost frantic for his dick. Whatever Jeff did to us has made my dick grow, maybe it has done something for the women as well, he thought as his cock hit bottom and Carla's pussy spasmed tightly around him.

Carla gasped and went rigid.

"Yes!" a voice screamed in his head as emotions — blindly intense emotions — he had never felt before almost blanked out his mind. His cock swelled and spurted without warning as he convulsively held hard against her womb, the semen almost seeming to tear through his dick — the feeling of the gush intense.

"Oh, fuck," he yelled, loudly enough to be heard outside the RV as he managed to stroke once more, then slam against Carla's cervix again, his cock pumping furiously three more long spurts into the thrashing woman, who promptly fainted.

Fred's mind felt like it was hanging over a black abyss, all his senses were on overload. The world swayed around him and he fought to support himself on his forearms to keep enough weight off Carla to keep from crushing her.

An eon later, "Men get cheated with their puny little orgasms," a recovered and laughing Brenda said in his befuddled mind.

He still fought to remain conscious as his traumatized mind hung on the brink. Struggling back to full consciousness, he managed to answer. Is that what that was? My God. How does a woman stand that? And it goes on forever. Shit, I may never be the same again,  he said as his arms trembled to support his weight. Shit Brenda, I didn't expect you to come. When you did, I blew my load up her on the first stroke. I'm embarrassed. Even a teenager would last longer than that. That's the first time I've ever lost it involuntarily. And by the way,  he continued as some of his strength returned. I thought you said something about being antsy about being on the male end of fucking. You seem to have taken to pussy pretty quickly, though, if that mind-blowing orgasm you just had is any indication. How do women stand that? The best come I've ever had before now doesn't even rate a one compared to what just happened.

Brenda was quiet for a moment. "Well, uh ... It didn't happen just the way I expected. Number one, sharing your feelings as you pushed into her was a lot more turn-on than I expected, then uh ... something else happened."

Well, don't keep me in suspense, he answered as he realized that Jessica had her head against his. He didn't know how long she had been there, but she was obviously listening to Brenda. He wondered how the one-sided conversation sounded, since Jessica couldn't hear his thoughts.

"Baby, I didn't just feel you. Something happened when you entered her. I felt what Carla was feeling as well. Either side was wonderful, even though men obviously get cheated in the orgasm department, but feeling both of your orgasms together was truly awesome. Then one just seemed to feed and build on the other, and my orgasm got in there, too. Everything magnified. Three orgasms together, it just ... continued to reflect back and forth, cycling higher and higher until the lights went out."

Yeah. Got that right,  Fred thought as he managed on trembling arms to roll the two of them to the side while keeping his cock inside the sleeping woman. Jessica made an irritated sound as she lost contact, but quickly put her head back against his.

Brenda finally realized that Jessica was there, and giggled.

"Did she say she felt Momma's orgasm?" Jessica demanded from Fred. "Did you Brenda?"

"Tell her I said, hell yes," Brenda said.

But Jessica heard and jerked back, a grin on her face. "Now you're talking. And it's my turn."

"Baby, that kinda took it out of me. When the two of them went off, it almost killed me," Fred halfway teased. "Might be a few minutes..." Fred finished as he rolled to his back, his wet cock sticking straight up, the still-hard dick belying his comment.

"Doesn't look like it," Jessica giggled as she crawled across to straddle his legs with her pussy positioned just below his groin.

Fred stared at her jiggling breasts as she maneuvered herself onto him.

"Wait, Baby. I want to make love to you..."

Jessica shook her head, her hair swirling around her face. "You can make love to me anytime. The waiting is over. Watching you two has made me so hot I can't think. Now help me get this thing in me," she said as she rose up and tried to align his still-hard cock to her entrance.

"Baby take your time. Don't hurt yourself," Fred tried, but Jessica had him quickly positioned by now ... and dropped.

"Oh, shit," she wailed as his cock tore up her about half way and stopped.

"'Oh, shit, '" a voice echoed in his mind.

Fred almost added to the mimic, but grunted at the last instant, instead. Jessica rose up and wiggled back down. Twice more, and Fred felt the head of his cock push against something hard inside her. It felt good, but was too much sensation at the moment.

Apparently it wasn't for Jessica. Almost frantic for his cock after watching him fuck her mother, she wiggled and thrashed her hips, repeatedly dragging his cock across her cervix. And it started..."

"Oh, shit," Fred managed as Jessica's/Brenda's orgasm hit. Jessica screamed. Brenda screamed in his mind. Some small part of Fred's mind wondered if he was going to hear the police knocking on the RV door soon. The screams went on — one mental, the other physical. It felt like Brenda had gone berserk in his head. The room went gray. The abyss threatened. Fred's cock spurted as if it hadn't had the chance in months. Brenda screamed again in his mind. His prostate and balls had run dry. The orgasm didn't stop. His cock tried to spurt again as the orgasm continued to build. The world went black as Jessica collapsed on his chest.

The four slept.

-------

 ... There was a startled look on Jill's face and she suddenly bent over to look at herself. Kathy made a too-late frantic grab at Jill's shoulder to prevent it...

Jill dropped the washcloth, feeling herself as if to confirm what her eyes were telling her.

"I don't have..." she gasped out. "Oh, no. God is punishing me for what I've done. I don't have anything down there any more. Oh, God..."

Oddly, Kathy felt a calm descend on her, despite the frantic woman in front of her. Diana says I'm her Queen now. I have a responsibility to this woman. Putting her hands on Jill's shoulders, she pushed her back against the cool shower wall, causing Jill to gasp out at the cold on her sensitive back.

Kathy cupped Jill's chin and raised her face, preventing her from looking down. "Listen to me. God didn't do anything to you — Jeff did." Seeing the result of that on Jill's face, Well, shit. That sure didn't come out exactly the way I meant it.

As Jill tried again to look back down at herself, Kathy refused to let her chin go. "Listen to me. By this time tomorrow, you'll be perfect. You'll be perfect, Jill. The AIDS is gone, you're eating without problems, this is just part of it. Jeff said that you were badly torn up inside, and only partially healed. You could never have another child the way you were. The healing isn't completely done. It will be tomorrow with whatever Jeff used on you. It will be," she stressed again as she saw the first glimmer of hope in Jill's eyes.

"But how can..."

"I don't know, Baby. I don't know. But he healed Joyce in the hospital when she was dying of a gunshot wound. And look at your husband, really look at him. Really look at him. He's younger. Heck, I'm younger — or younger-looking, as the case may be. This is all part of the same thing. Jeff has some kind of invention. It heals. No matter what's wrong with us, it heals. But I'm telling you that you will be perfect by this time tomorrow. I promise you," she stressed while a part of her mind wondered how she could be so sure.

Kathy took Jill's arm. "Let's get you back in the shower and get the soap off your body and your hair rinsed." Then as Jill started to put her hand back on herself, "No, don't think about it. Here, lean forward under the water so I can rinse your hair," she added a little more forcefully.

Amazing Kathy, Jill complied, her crying almost gone. Kathy thought for a second, then again sternly, "I don't want you thinking about what just got you excited. Everything will be fine tomorrow. Everything. Now step back and let's get you dry." When Jill complied, "Here, take this towel," she said handing Jill a big one. "Dry your hair."

Jill took the towel and began drying her hair while Kathy took another one from the shelf and dried Jill's back, then turning her, dried her front as well. Jill meekly complied.

When Jill finished rubbing the towel through her hair, Kathy took the towel and threw it in the corner with the one she had just put there. "Okay, let's get your hair dried," she said as she encouraged the woman to walk to the vanity area. "Sit and relax," Kathy instructed. Picking up a hair drier, she noticed Bill standing to the side. She wondered how long he had been there.

"Okay. Let's get that beautiful hair dry, then we'll get you dressed and some more food in you. I can just about guarantee that Diana has put something aside for you in the kitchen. After that, I'm sure you'll be ready for another nap. Just remember, you're fine," she stressed. "You are not to worry about anything. Bill and I will take care of you," she again stressed.

Jill sat meekly before the long mirror at the vanity area as Kathy busily dried her hair. Covertly, Kathy glanced at Bill, who looked a question at her. She shrugged slightly as she changed the subject and deliberately prattled on about how wonderful the retreat was, but her mind chased thoughts about what happened. She obeyed me. She did what I ordered her to do. I wonder if Bill picked up on what just happened.



-------

Chapter 18

Jeff sat in the living room by the big window with Diana snuggled on his lap, her body molded to him the way they both liked.

"Did you fix it so they can easily find food for Jill?"

Diana giggled against his chest. "Not starting to micromanage are you?" Then before he could answer, she went on. "Actually, I didn't. The girls were going to take care of it, but when they went to the kitchen, Linda was already there getting things ready. There's a note on one of the refrigerators and a big platter of food that only has to be warmed in the microwave. Of course there's enough for all three of them."

Jeff frowned, "Bill is really fucked up over this."

"I guess he would be," Diana sighed. "I know that you had a hard time getting over what Jack, Arlene and I did. Oh, Jeff. I'm so sorry. I don't care if the Healer did make me more susceptible, I can't believe I was dumb enough to let that get started. I've always thought I was levelheaded. I acted like a fool, though. Oh, Baby, every time I think about it, it still makes me sick. I betrayed you..."

"Hush, Di. You've apologized a hundred times. Hell, if I had been home, it wouldn't have happened, no matter how susceptible to stimulation the Healer made you."

"But regardless of all that's happened, you still think about it, don't you?" Diana asked as she looked up at him, her voice softening.

"Baby, it doesn't bother me anymore," Jeff lied. At Diana's frown, "Well not much," he added. "Now there's no use in getting worked up over something in the past. If I had had brains enough to realize that the Healer would enhance everything about you and not just heal your ankle, we could have avoided the whole thing. Remember. This rests on me. Not you." He gently kissed her lips for a moment, then smiled at her. "Besides," he said, forcing laughter into his voice, "I imagine it's kinda hard to say no when someone is pulling on your nipples and you're having orgasms. He took advantage of the situation, but No-Nuts had his last piece of pussy that night, and I can have you any time I want."

"'No-Nuts, '" Diana repeated. "What do you mean? Do you know something I don't?"

Jeff sighed a little. "Yeah, they had to remove his balls."

"That's good enough for the bastard," Diana hissed, then, "But how do you know that?" she added, sitting up in his lap. "I know darn well they wouldn't tell you that on the phone." Then seeing the expression on his face, "You had someone check. Someone who somehow gained access to hospital records. Jeff, how can you do that? We're way out here in Colorado, yet you know what they did to him in that hospital in Georgia."

Diana thought for a second, then slumped in her seat. "What kind of organization do you work for?" she rhetorically asked, knowing he wasn't going to answer. Her expression suddenly changed. Looking back at him with a grin on her face, "Well, at least we know he'll never do that to anyone else."

"Yeah," Jeff sighed, "but some guys who have had their nuts cut off before have taken it out on women. Just because he can't fuck doesn't mean that he won't abuse another woman. Just look at that son-of-a-bitch that rammed something up Jill, and I'm assuming he could fuck, but just wanted to hurt her. I may have screwed up big time by not killing Jack. Since he can't easily get to me, he might just take his revenge out on some innocent woman."

Diana sighed. "I sincerely hope not. But what about Arnie?"

"Ah, he's just a kid whose world backed up and shit on him. He got tired of being messed over by Jack, and took up some of his ways. I think I scared him badly enough that he'll never try anything like that again. I'm not worried about Arnie. Even if he runs his mouth after getting over his scare, we're long gone from the area. Chances are that no one will believe him, anyway. If he ever tells at all, he's going to have to change the story a lot to make himself sound like anything other than the patsy in the situation, not to say anything about being at least guilty of sexually assaulting you two. Who's going to believe him if he brags that he fucked you and Arlene? And who will care?"

Jeff hugged her to himself again, now talking into her hair as she tucked her head under his chin, "But I'm worried about Ingles. I somehow got a barrage of Jill's memories when I talked to Little One. I suspect, now that I think about it, that it was probably intentional on Little One's part, though. She gets to roam around in my mind at will. At the first, she told me that she had trouble accessing my memories, mostly just hit or miss I guess. But she's evolved, not to say anything about having near-constant access to my mind for the last couple of months. No telling what she has discovered about what I ... uh, have done in the past, or anything about the people I know. She hates Ingles, though. She seems to have taken it personally about what Ingles has done to Jill."

Diana sat up to look at him as he continued, "I'm going to call ... someone in the morning," he told her. "It's too late to do it tonight. Ingles isn't in this by himself. This appears to be a big organization. From what Little One has sent me, these people, to use the term lightly, are acquiring girls and women across the States, then shipping them to Latin America and the Middle East.

"All I know is from conversations that Jill heard, or overheard, from people that Ingles was talking to. They had been drugged to keep the women calm after they were abducted. Ingles then developed a new drug, or mixture of drugs, to make the women both totally submissive and extremely susceptible to some sort of hypnosis, and possibly a new variant of hypnosis which works only on people under the influence of the new drug. He's convinced this organization to use his drug cocktail and services. They have slaves — very willing slaves — because of it, and apparently, he's still working to refine the drug's properties.

"I guess this thing that Ingles does to the women has caught on. There's apparently a big market for these women — beyond just the 'normal' sex slave trade. I imagine that having a totally submissive slave who'll do literally anything you order is well beyond having a reluctant one who cries about the family she has lost, and hates your guts," he said with a frown. "Beatings and torture have their limitations."

Diana spoke softly, "You, my lover, have nine wives who will do anything you say. All you have to do is suggest it in the slightest way."

Jeff grinned in spite of himself. "Yeah. And that's another reason why I can see that there's a lot of money in these women that Ingles and this bunch kidnap," he teased. "I probably have the best sex life of any man alive," he laughed, mock leering at her.

Diana sat up to reach over and pick up her cigarettes from a nearby table. She spent a moment to make a production of lighting the cigarette the way she knew her husband liked, whether he admitted it or not. Putting her lighter back on the table, she put the ashtray in her lap. "Looks like he and these other people would get caught," she mused.

"Well, as many people as there are that go missing or disappear in this country, some of them obviously have law enforcement looking for them, but it's far from being all of them. I doubt the authorities are aware of the true scale of this thing yet, so my information will cause a ruckus just from that. But the potential for Ingles' inventions in espionage, terrorism and straight politics is so terrifying that there's no way the feds won't go ape-shit. And ape-shit feds aren't pretty. But look at the way Ingles approached Jill. Oh, sure, he couldn't do many women that involved his office without raising suspicion, but a woman, caught, doped to the gills with this drug and hypnotized ... Wives have arguments and leave their husbands all the time. Bill didn't suspect anything. Oh, sure, Jill was a special case because of her beauty, and Ingles wanted her husband's money. But still, I imagine a lot of these girls 'run away' from home and disappear, or are wives that walk out the door cursing their husbands and are never seen again. Who would suspect hypnosis and drugs? But when they do, which will be soon, things will get real interesting. Bill wants in on this, but I warned him there's at least one group of feds who will want to put Ingles on the 'payroll' to make more mind-control goodies for them.

"Ingles got greedy and tried for Bill's money. The problems that were aired with the divorce forced him to close his practice in Saint Louis, though. But he wanted Linda, too. And because of Jill's exceptional beauty, he kept her around for awhile. From her memories, I think he was growing tired of her. He'd had her for a year, and when those idiots messed her up, he probably decided to sell her. I'll bet he was going to try to get Linda next. Little One says that he had mentioned it to Jill. Who knows?"

Jeff sighed. "I imagine he made a lot more untaxable money by selling those women and girls and working for this organization than he could make by being a gynecologist, not to say anything about what he was getting from his drugs."

"Yeah, and he wouldn't have to get up in the middle of the night because one of his patients was having a baby. I can't imagine having a scumbag like him delivering my baby," she shivered. "You know he wouldn't care what happened to the woman."

"Not unless she were pretty," Jeff corrected. "Even then, a woman only looks beautiful to the husband under those circumstances."

"So was I pretty then?" Diana asked coyly.

"You know damn well you were," then he added with a gleam in his eye, "fat, walking with a hand on your back, then on the table with your knees pulled up and that doctor with his head halfway under the sheet waiting to catch Arlene."

"I was not fat. You're not going to get any pussy tonight, Buster," she said, putting her cigarette out, and quickly placing her ashtray on the table. Getting up, she danced away from his grasp while trying not to giggle.

"The heck I'm not," he said coming quickly to his feet to start after her.

Shrieking like a schoolgirl, Diana ran out of the living room and headed for the bedroom. Yep, I'm going to get my brains fucked out tonight,  she laughed to herself. If I can manage to stay ahead of him, it'll be in the bedroom. Otherwise, he'll have carpet burns on his knees, she thought as she rounded the first corner and sprinted full out, her pussy already wet.

She didn't make it.

-------

Later, Bill, Kathy, Jill and Linda sat at the table in the kitchen as Jill tried to assuage her near-raging appetite.

Dave, Evie and Kim came in and sat with them for a few minutes. But Dave and his 'mother-in-law' were obviously ill at ease with each other. Dave, of course, had been updated by Diana and knew that Jill was struggling with the near-demon memories of Ingles and the men that had abused her, not to say anything about being sexless at the moment.

When Linda unconsciously snuggled to Dave as they stood to leave, Jill looked up at Linda. Touching her arm, she quietly said, "Baby, you're so young..."

Bill tensed, worried that there would be trouble, but Dave only smiled and looked Jill in the eye. "I know that coming here and finding that your daughter is married has been a shock for you. Heck, getting married again isn't anything I expected, either. But be assured, I will always love her," he answered as he put his arm around Linda, "and I will treat her as a loving husband should. We'll talk later when you're more accustomed to the things that are going on here. But know that she is safe and loved in my family. I and my wives will treat her with dignity and respect, and it will always be so."

Dave had unconsciously used a mental push as he stressed his last statement. Jill's eyes widened for a moment as their eyes remained locked. Bill grinned for a second as he felt the determination from another Alpha. Not as strong as Jeff's, but very distinctly there, anyway.

"I'll be fine, Mom," Linda said as she leaned down and embraced her mother. Whispering in Jill's ear, she continued, "Tomorrow night you'll be whole again and you can fuck Daddy's brains out."

Jill's face flushed from embarrassment at hearing her daughter say the word "fuck" so casually, and from what Linda had suggested. Linda, grinning, quickly kissed her mother on the cheek. Grabbing Dave's arm, she and her new family went out the kitchen door. Just as the door closed, everyone heard Kim ask, "What did you tell her?"

"Can't tell..." Linda laughed as the door cut off the sound.

Kathy and Bill had long since finished their snacks, but continued to sit sipping their soft drinks. When Jill eventually finished her plate of food, she pushed back a little and said, "I can't believe I was that hungry. I think that's more food than I've eaten at one time in my life. But I feel wonderful..." she said as she seemed to assess herself again. "Whatever this Jeff person did to me must have worked. Can't you tell me what he did? Why he took my..."

Kathy interrupted her before Jill could continue with the thought about her sex being gone. Reaching over to take Jill's hand, she said, "Let's get the kitchen straightened up. It's late and we need to go to sleep."

Jill looked at Kathy. "You said you were a pilot now, too. I knew you were training of course, but didn't know you had made it, because..."

"Don't go there," Kathy admonished.

"Uh ... okay. What I meant was, isn't tomorrow Monday. You two will have to take Mr. Wainwright and Margaret back to the company, won't you? Then have to fly the whole week?"

Bill spoke up. "Mr. Wainwright told me that they are going to stay here tomorrow, and probably for several more days. He says that Kathy and I should be with you, so he's going to have his Monday morning meeting via phone. He said he has already talked to Ray Tingle about sending a crew to update the equipment here so that they can have a true teleconference. He tried a setup here a couple of years ago because of occasionally getting snowed in, but there is more modern equipment now and he thinks the teleconference will be more practical."

"He's doing all that because of me?" Jill gasped.

"Well, you were the catalyst that set him off. He has been talking about cutting back his and Margaret's hours and letting Tingle take more of the lead. He says that this is a good time to initiate it."

"Oh, Bill," Jill sighed. "He knows what I've done. Margaret does too. Everyone does. I'm so ashamed. How can I ever look people in the eye again?"

Bill pushed back from the table as Jill stood to help with cleanup. "As soon as we're done in here, we need to go to bed. We'll talk more then," he said with finality.

"'Go to bed?'" Jill repeated, her voice a little tentative.

"Don't start, Jill. We — the both of us — are going to sleep with our husband," Kathy said, momentarily clasping Jill's hand as they both reached for dishes.

Jill gave her an uncertain smile and picked up her plate and glass to follow her husband to the sink to rinse them. Soon a dishwasher was going and the kitchen was again spotless.

A few minutes later back in the sitting room of the suite, Kathy told Jill to go on in the bedroom and choose something to sleep in that the girls had provided. "Bill and I will be in there in a few minutes. Jill just turned toward the bedroom without comment."

When Jill had entered the bedroom and was out of earshot, "She'll probably be wearing flannel pajamas if she has a choice," Bill said frowning.

"Nope," Kathy said. "I hid the pajamas that the preacher's wife sent. I'll guarantee that you will approve of anything the girls put into Jill's dresser drawers," she finished with a wicked grin on her face.

Bill grinned back for a moment, then changed the subject. "You've been bossing her around..."

"That's what Jeff and Diana suggested. Leave her to her own direction and she starts thinking about Ingles. His 'programming' comes back. My directing her worked in the shower when she noticed herself and started to have a come-apart. It worked just a few minutes ago when she almost started up in the kitchen — again."

Bill hesitated a moment. "Jeff says that I need to 'call her.' He's ... shown me what to do. Helped me with it. He says that Dave, with Evie's help, inadvertent or not, called Kim at his company without either of them even knowing that he was doing it. Mostly the same thing with Linda; although, it was much quicker with her. With all that was going on, she heard him playing his guitar and wanted to learn.

"Sitting in that room with him brought his pheromones out, and well, the first thing anyone knew, they were in love. The rest, as they say, is history. Love and pheromones will do it every time," he grinned.

"So Jeff says that you're supposed to call her for your mate? She's already your mate."

"She was my wife ... is my wife. Damn that screwed up divorce. But Jeff says that I need to call her now that I've been enhanced — whatever that means."

"Oh, I know exactly what it means," Kathy said, blushing. "Well, at least I know what happens when you do the pheromone release, or whatever you call it. I know that Jeff has 'enhanced' all of us, and my first sexual experience wasn't much to go on..."

"You had an asshole for a boyfriend," Bill supplied, grinning.

"Yeah, well. So I don't know how I would react to a good man, other than my good man," she quickly added. "But I've never heard any girl-talk about sex that they thought was as good as we have. I orgasm when you nurse me, and faint when you come in me. If Jill didn't used to react like that, then you need to do whatever it takes to make her."

Bill sighed. "Jeff says that one of the reasons that Ingles was so successful with her is that she has probably always had some submissive tendencies; although they were repressed. But I don't want to live with someone who has to be told to do everything. I want a free-willed woman who loves me ... I want my Jill back."

"I know, Bill. To say that she isn't acting like herself is a gross understatement. But I don't think we'll have to order her around for an extended period of time. She's just mixed up right now with all that's happened. The drugs are gone and her mind is clear for the first time in a year. She's scared to death that Ingles will come for her. And probably more scared that his conditioning will make her leave with him."

Kathy took Bill's hands in hers as they stood facing each other. "You need to do what Jeff says and call her to be your mate. Diana says that will override Ingles' commands, or at least, go a long way in that direction."

"Yeah, I know," Bill sighed. "Let's go see if I can do it."

-------

As they entered the bedroom, Bill noticed that Jill had dressed and gotten into bed without having specific instructions to do so. Well, I think she dressed for bed,  he thought as he smiled at his wife who had covered herself with the sheet to her chin. She smiled back, though the smile was a weak one.

Without preamble, Bill stripped to his shorts and Kathy to her panties, though her thong didn't leave a lot to the imagination. Bill forced himself to keep his gaze from Kathy's delightful breasts. I don't need an erection right now.

He suspected that Jill had planned to have Kathy between them, but Kathy and Bill had made their own plans. Kathy got in on one side of the bed and Bill the other, each slipping under the sheet without comment. Bill adjusted the room lights with the remote, set it on the bedside table and slid his arm around Jill.

Jill's body tensed, but Bills voice cut in at the same time, "Don't even think about flinching from me. I'm here to hold my wife in my arms. Fuck that sorry bastard who did this to you." Turning slightly, he gently touched his lips to hers for a short moment.

Jill remained tense, but didn't flinch. In the soft light of the room, Bill propped himself up a little on an elbow so he could look her in the face. "Jill, I'm almost certain that Jeff is going after Ingles. He's really pissed at him. I don't know how much Kathy has told you about Jeff or any of the Alphas. But Jeff is a Prime and feels responsible for his Alphas and their families.

"I've never seen him like this. He's incensed about it. But I'm going with him. Jeff belongs to some type of black ops outfit and is far, far more capable and dangerous than you suspect. And that doesn't count the pull he has with his connections. Anyway, if he goes, I go. That's not open to debate from the two of you, or Jeff. I'm going. He's calling someone in the morning. He's says he'll have to go see them, but I almost got him to promise me that I could go with him for whatever happens to Ingles. It's going to take a couple of days for him to set everything up, and he told me there will probably be someone here to talk to you about what happened. Can you handle that?"

"Yeah," Jill said as a shiver ran through her. "I can do anything it takes."

"Jeff's black ops outfit is the main reason I haven't suggested contacting the police or FBI. If black ops goes after Ingles, instead of just Jeff and maybe me, he'll never be heard from again. Outfits like that don't take people to court. How can they? They don't exist," he grinned trying to lighten the situation a little. "A dictator suddenly dies, a drug lord disappears. There's a hell of a fight in a jungle somewhere with some 'renegade troops' and an outfit you have never heard of. I suspect there are different black ops units in the news a lot, but you never hear them called that. It's called disinformation. Don't hide it; make it blatant — but wrong. I'm sure there are black ops that do research as well. Research that we never hear about."

"I've heard of black ops," Jill said, "but I really don't know what the term means, other than some military people who don't exist on anyone's budget," Jill quietly said.

Bill smiled at her. "No one knows much about black ops — not what they do, or even how many outfits there are. If you are in them, you remain part of them for life, even after you retire. I heard in the Navy that the only way out of them is death — naturally, or if you run your mouth about them, you suddenly have a fatal heart attack. Almost certainly the group Jeff belongs to doesn't have anything to do with domestic security, but if Jeff can get them interested, chances are they'll contact either the FBI or, more likely, some domestic black ops group that won't use the methods cops normally use. Jeff told me one thing which might happen is the feds' domestic black ops getting Ingles' shady associates to suspect him of something that will convince them to kill him, with the FBI watching to then scoop them all up for killing Ingles, and incidentally everything else too. Whatever it is, they'll just get the job done. This organization he's involved with will be far better than one of our alphabet soup outfits that are on the news all the time. They'll decide what needs to be done to end this organization and do it. End of story."

"I don't want you to get hurt," Jill said. "Maybe you should leave this to Jeff..."

"The best I can hope for," Bill interrupted her, "is to get to go with him, or with them. They wouldn't let me do anything, though. Hell, I'm not trained for this. What the fuck does a pilot know about something like this? But I'm going. I want to see that bastard. Maybe, just maybe, I'll get a chance to bust his fucking head."

"Jill's tired. We need to discuss this tomorrow," Kathy said to get Bill back to business.

"Actually, I'm not," Jill said. "I'm full of energy. I'm wondering if I can possibly go to sleep."

Kathy sat up so that she could face Jill. Glancing at Bill, she said, "I think we need to tell her what we've planned. She's my sister-wife. I don't want to do anything to her that would take away from that. She needs to give her permission. No matter that the two of you have been married for years, she needs to give her permission under the circumstances."

Bill smiled back. "You're right. I was hesitating because it didn't seem right to do it without Jill knowing."

"What are you two talking about?"

Kathy took Jill's left hand in both of hers. "Jill, Alphas can do some things ... The ones of them who have been enhanced, anyway."

As Jill started to interrupt, Kathy quickly went on. "Just let me explain. And remember, our husband is sitting right here. If I mess up and don't get it right, he'll know and tell you immediately, but for now, please, just open your mind and listen." At Jill's slow nod, Kathy went on. "Alphas — that is, men who are potential Alphas that have also been enhanced to bring out their latent Alpha abilities — can secrete pheromones which can have a dramatic effect on suitable females in close proximity to the Alphas. These effects are both sexual and can, if the Alpha intends it, cause a female to 'bond' with the Alpha. Plus these special pheromones Alphas emit somehow enhance their 'bonded' females, though females can be enhanced in other ways too. And the enhancements can vary in way that I don't understand.

"Our husband is one of those enhanced Alphas. I'm absolutely certain he can drench us in those special Alpha pheromones. When he does it, now that you've been enhanced also, and by Jeff using one of those other ways — and yeah, that's the reason you feel so good and no longer have AIDS, he did it to save your life — you will have multiple orgasms from just having your boobs nursed. Bill's cock is even bigger than it was, and if you don't have an orgasm when he hits bottom, I'll be amazed. All that because your senses have been heightened by whatever Jeff did to you, then ... our Alpha adds his pheromones to that. I swear, if this continues I think I could come from him pointing his finger at me," she grinned. "When he spurts his semen into you, it will be all over. It is with me, and Jeff's wives say the same thing about him. The lights go out when you can't take the sensations any longer. Maximum overload."

"He's always been a great lover," Jill quietly said. "I guess I didn't fully realize how good he was until those men..."

"Nope. Nope. Don't go there," Kathy quickly admonished.

Jill actually managed a little grin.

"Now," Kathy said, "you know about pheromones from the Alphas, but there's something else." Kathy waited a moment to heighten Jill's expectations, then, "Alphas can 'call' women to be their mates. According to Diana, there are several ways. One is the way Jeff called Joyce and Caitlin. One way is with him injecting his sperm — into the woman — anywhere. If it's inside her body and the Alpha calls her with some mental process they have, she becomes his mate for life. He can fuck a strange female — at least according to Diana — and if he doesn't want her for his mate, she doesn't become one. Don't even think about it Bill," she teased without looking at him.

Kathy suddenly sat back on her heels, and odd expression on her face for a moment. "Actually, I just discovered that I don't think I would have a problem with that, after all. That's odd. I'm sure I would have before I became your mate, and maybe somewhat after," she said as she looked at Bill. "I would have fought any woman who tried to seduce you a few weeks ago, but now, suddenly, I don't think I'd be jealous if you wanted a sport fuck with a strange woman. Hmmm, what about that pilot that I treated so shitty? Somehow, my feelings are different now." My gosh. How can I feel this way? Diana said I would when the Queen Bitch syndrome kicked in, but I didn't believe her. Now I'm not so sure. Shit, that's weird.

"Kathy," Bill stumbled out, not knowing what to think.

"Hmmm, I'll have to look her up and apologize. Blame it on PMS or something. But Jill and I need to have a say if you decide to make her your mate."

Jill lay stunned. Bill, having been married for years, fell back on tried and true habits. He looked confused and said nothing. Didn't always work, but most times it did. He certainly wasn't going to risk opening his mouth right now.

"I think I'm going to like having a sister-wife," Kathy said as she grinned down at an amazed Jill. "Okay, back to the subject at hand. Bill can 'call' you to be his mate. We think it will — at least to some extent — override Ingles commands, and it will make us true sister-wives. But you should give your permission if you want to try it, for there's no going back. Trust me. I. Am. Bill's. I became his mate through a little different way, but I am his. I belong to him. This makes normal marriages seem shallow in comparison. But you have loved him for years, and he has loved you. You were married — happily married — until Ingles came into the picture, but this is far beyond that." Kathy hesitated for a moment, "What do you say?"

Jill used her other hand to grab Bill's hand. "Bill, is this true? Will this help keep those ... things out of my mind? Whenever you're near I can hear him in my mind. I can feel those ... urges to bitch at you, complain that you are always gone, fuss at you for just ... anything." Unshed tears welled in her eyes as she fought to get the words out past suddenly intensifying compulsions.

"Jeff and Diana think they will. I'm not even sure I can do this, but Jeff has, ah ... shown me how, although that doesn't really describe ... Hell, I don't have words for how Jeff did what he did, but I can give it a try. But remember what Kathy just told you. Diana says you can't go back from this. You're stuck with me, bad or good, from now on. There isn't any 'divorce' from this if it works."

"I never meant to divorce you, anyway. That was Ingles making me do that. It almost destroyed me inside, but I couldn't stop myself. Just like I couldn't stop myself from doing all those other things he made me do."

"So your answer is..."

Jill squeezed Bill's hand and forced herself to turn toward the man she once almost worshiped. With Ingles screaming in her mind to flinch from this man who was holding her so tightly, to jerk back from him with a scathing comment, "Yes. I want to be your mate. Do whatever you need to do to make me the way I was," she finished as her mind longed for the days gone by when she and Bill were newly in love.



-------

Chapter 19

Bill tenderly kissed Jill as his hand slowly slid up her side to tease just beneath her left breast.

Jill pulled her mouth away. "I can't, Bill. I mean ... I, uh, don't have anything down there. Remember?"

"Hush. We've made love many times without me putting my cock in you. Before we got married, when you were too big before Linda was born, when you had a yeast infection, when you were too tired to fuck, when we just wanted to ... Just relax. I promise that you'll be whole tomorrow. Tonight, I want you to fight those compulsions while I make love to you. Jeff told me how to make this happen the quickest way we can under the circumstances. So just relax."

"Bill, I can't. I..."

"Relax Jill! I'm going to do this. You have no say in the matter. Understand!"

Bill could see the change instantly.

"Yes," she meekly answered. "I'll do whatever you say," she whispered.

Bill faltered; almost didn't go through with it. Shit. I'm no better than Ingles. I'm ordering her to submit to me. But Jeff said I had to do this or my calling her would take much longer and might not work against Ingles post-hypnotic suggestions. I can't just hold her down and do this. I've got to override that bastard doctor's controls. Steeling himself, he continued.

"Kiss me back, Jill. Respond to me!" he commanded, then locked his mouth to his wife's. His hand slid higher under the negligée until he cupped her breast. Jill's body went rigid. He pulled his mouth back an inch from hers. "No Jill. You can't fight me. You must respond to me. If you want to get rid of Ingles in your mind, this is the first step."

Her response was a whimper, but she initiated the kiss then. Teasing her breast for several minutes, he finally gentled the tip of his index finger across her nipple. Jill hissed into his mouth. Little One had done her job — the sensations were now much stronger than Jill had ever felt. Amazed, Jill concentrated on what Bill was doing to her nipple, wondering how the sensation could be so strong.

Bill gently twisted and pulled on her pap, suddenly broke the kiss, then moved his mouth and sucked hard. The change from soft and tender to the hard pull of the vacuum — with Little One's enhancements — did it. Jill grabbed the back of Bill's head to hold him tighter to her, her back arched up to push the breast farther into his mouth, and the greatest orgasm she could ever remember slammed through her.

Twenty minutes later, and more orgasms than she could count, she drifted back into the world yet again to feel Kathy stroking her arm. Jill's hand had somehow gotten hold of Bill's rock-hard cock. She almost panicked for a second when she realized what she was doing, both from Ingles compulsions, and also realizing that she had nowhere for Bill to put his wonderful cock.

But I do,  she thought. He always said that he liked my pussy better, but I've given him hundreds of blowjobs,  she thought. Ingles screamed his commands in her mind, but Bill's hand teased another orgasm out of her as he resumed his taunting of a nipple. When she had her breath back, she slid down in the bed, the sheet already kicked away. Her hand tightened on his big cock and her mouth found the head before the compulsions ruled again. Sucking, she masturbated him with one hand while teasing his balls with the other.

"Jill," her husband gasped out. "I'm going to come as quickly as I can. Swallow my spend. It's important," he got out as he willed himself to come.

Bill's cock throbbed, then pulsed. Jill choked a little, but swallowed hard, her hand continuing to move on his staff. Bill groaned out and arched up, his ass leaving the bed a couple of inches as he trembled. As he collapsed back on the bed and his mind started to function again, Well, now for the second part. Think about how much I love her and push. I want her for my mate,  he thought. I love you Jill. I want you for my mate.

Suddenly, he was confident. The feeling that Jeff had tried, oh so hard, to describe was there. He pushed with his mind again. Jill sighed as she relaxed against him, his softening cock still in her mouth. More confident now, he gathered himself and pushed harder. I love you my wife. I want you for my mate. Now and forever. Now!

Bill felt something; felt it happen.

Jill shivered and sighed again, her eyes opening wide as feelings swirled through her mind and soul. Pulling her mouth back and letting his member drop against his leg, she shivered again and then just laid her head on his body for a time. A little later, she whispered into the stillness of the room, "Oh, Bill. Oh, Bill." Tears of joy flooded her eyes as she felt the turmoil inside her subside and her mind become clear. "I love you. I love you," she whispered as her mate reached down to pull her into his arms.

Ingles conditioning died as the Alpha's push stomped it to bits.

-------

The three had slept like the dead, the flood of emotions from the experience the night before having exhausted them. Shortly after six the next morning, Jill's consciousness partially returned. She had to pee — bad. Still in the middle, she groggily crawled across Bill.

An old married man, he reflexively put a guarding hand over his balls as one knee barely missed his groin and the other unerringly got a short rib dead-on. He grunted and went back to sleep, his subconscious familiar with the experience, just as he could sleep in the cockpit while his copilot flew the plane. As long as everything continued to be normal, he slept, but before the word "Captain" was out of the copilot's mouth, he was wide awake. Any abnormal sound would do the same thing, but Jill's crawling across him was normal, so he slept on.

He slept on, that is, until there was a scream from the bathroom. Admittedly, it didn't exactly sound like a cry of distress, but it was close enough for his subconscious. He rolled out of bed and was three steps toward the bathroom before his eyes completely focused. Kathy was close on his heels, buck naked, her thong panties long gone with the dump of Bill's pheromones last night.

Jill was standing bent double in front of one of the stalls, her hair having fallen forward to cover her face.

"What's wrong?" Bill yelled as he slid to a halt to grasp her arm, having already glanced around for threats and finding none.

Kathy grabbed the other arm. "Are you hurt?" she gasped out.

"I need a mirror," Jill managed in the midst of the turmoil.

"A mirror?" Bill and Kathy got out together as they stared at each other incredulously.

"There's ten feet of fucking mirror in the vanity area," Bill snapped, wondering if his new mate had lost her mind.

"A mirror. A hand mirror," Jill mumbled as she tried to bend farther over.

"I need a hand mirror," Jill repeated as she snapped her head up to look at them, her face still mostly covered with her long, thick hair.

"What the fuck," Bill snarled, his system full of adrenalin and no ass to kick. He stomped quickly to the vanity, snatched a drawer open, found a mirror and came back.

"Here," he said as he handed it to Jill. Only then did he realize that she had both of her hands on her groin.

She grabbed the mirror, spread her legs wider and shoved the glass where she could see herself in it. Bill saw her labia then.

"Here, hold the mirror for me," Jill instructed Kathy. "I can't hold myself open and position the mirror at the same time."

Kathy, beginning to understand, quickly dropped to her knees and held the mirror for her.

"Angle it up a little more," Jill instructed.

Then after an intake of breath, "Oh, my goodness," she gasped. "I thought that's what I was feeling with my finger."

Kathy, craning her neck forward so she could see, started to giggle.

"What the fuck is going on?" Bill hissed. "I told you that everything would be fine this afternoon. Maybe things are running a little ahead of schedule," he reasoned.

Kathy sat back on her butt, laughing. The laughter gained in volume. "This is marvelous," she exclaimed.

"What the fuck is 'marvelous?'" Bill asked, frustrated.

Kathy stood up, then pulled her long hair away from her face and tossed it over her right shoulder. Smiling at her husband, she said something, but he didn't hear her. His vision tunneled. Finally his subconscious kicked in and he took a much-needed deep breath, his vision clearing.

He looked down at Kathy who was still sitting on the tile floor looking up at her sister-wife's face. "Oh. My. God," she kept saying over and over, spacing the words out.

"What's wrong?" Jill said. Then louder as they kept staring at her face, "What's wrong with me?"

Jill tried to grab the mirror from Kathy, but she snatched it away before Jill's hand could close on it. "Use the big mirror."

Jill stared at her for a second, then brushed by her husband who remained planted with an odd look on his face. Running into the vanity area, she stopped to stare at herself. She wasn't looking at her beautiful body. She was used to that, although there were subtle differences there as well.

"How..." she managed. "How could..."

"You need to seriously thank Jeff," Bill said as he came up to encircle her from behind with his arms. "Seriously, thank him," he repeated.

Jill relaxed back into her mate's arms. "I dreamed of this. Yesterday while I slept, I dreamed of this. I wanted it so badly. I wanted to go back and start our time together again. The good times when there was no Ingles, when I was pure for you. How could this happen?" she whispered as she stared at the teenager in the mirror. "Not only am I young again, but I have a hymen. I can't be a virgin again, but I can give you my hymen again. My pussy looks like it did before I had Linda. It looks..."

"Jeff said everything would be new down there. I guess he really meant it." He forced a chuckle past his lips as he stared at the girl he remembered from long ago. Even the timbre of her voice was slightly different; much like it used to be.

"You look young, too, Bill. Not as young as I do, but, oh ... maybe thirty. How can this be?"

"I don't want to be any younger looking, Baby. Kathy says she's just where she wants to be, too. Whatever Jeff has does this. I guess you wanted to be a teenager again, so it ... did it. Oh, this sounds crazy, but I have the unmistakable results in my arms," he finished as they locked eyes in the mirror.

"We can make love now. Right now," Jill whispered again. "Make love like we did the first time."

Kathy spoke up as she put her arms around Jill, too. "No bloody way. He had to marry you the first time to get it. He's not going to get your hymen until he walks down that aisle this time, either."

When Jill started to protest, Kathy continued. "He's your mate now, as he is mine. You have to be married again. This time it's different, to put it very, very mildly."

Jill spun around in Bill's arms. "Wear your military uniform for me just like you did last time."

Pushing back from Bill but still holding to his arms, her face relaxed and happy for the first time in over a year, she abruptly shifted mental gears, as women are wont to do, and exclaimed, "I'm hungry. I'm starving to death. Come on; let's get some clothes on. We'll find something in that marvelous kitchen..."

"What you'll find," Bill said looking at his watch, "is all Jeff's wives, plus Dave's wives, which includes our daughter, of course, plus Margaret and Alesha, all furiously cooking breakfast."

"Oh, Bill. What are they going to say when they see me? Do they know what I've done?" she worried.

"There are no secrets in this household ... well, other than whatever Jeff uses to heal us and make us all young. But what they understand is that you were kidnapped and abused by Ingles. They might hug you to death. And trust me, if any of those women get hold of Ingles, they'll flay him alive — if he's lucky. Now you hold your head up when you go in there. You have done nothing wrong. You're one of my mates," he said as he hugged both of them to him. "Now let's get dressed and get some food into you. You still have some weight to gain, and a bunch of people to meet."

-------

MONDAY MORNING 6:20 A.M. OCTOBER 1

A few minutes later, Bill pushed the kitchen door open for Jill and Kathy. Jill was ushered through first. Taking two steps in, she stopped as she met Diana who stood regally in front of her.

I met this woman yesterday, but I was so sick and messed up I could barely function. She is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.

Of course, Diana thought basically the same thing as she stared at the girl in front of her. Seventeen, maybe eighteen. Little One, you have outdone yourself this time,  Diana thought as she stepped forward and hugged a startled Jill.

Jill felt wet against her face and suddenly realized that Diana was crying. "We're so proud of you," she whispered in Jill's ear. "You got away from that bastard and made it all the way here as sick as you were, without money, without anyone. We're so proud of you. And you look wonderful," she continued, pushing back to hold Jill by her shoulders, the tears glistening on Diana's cheeks.

"Well, it wasn't without anyone. A preacher and his wife helped me, fixed my car and gave me money; although, I didn't have to use much of it. I stole forty dollars earlier. I'm..."

"Might as well sit down, Bill. It's going to be awhile," Jeff said, pushing a chair back from the table with his foot as the rest of the women descended on Jill.

"You knew this was going to happen," Bill accused as he sat to stare at Jeff.

"What? That the women would welcome her?" Jeff asked as he took a sip of coffee.

"Thanks," Bill said as Jenny put a cup of coffee in front of him. Then to Jeff, "No. Oh, I guess I knew they would make her welcome, but that's not what I meant and you know it."

"You mean the age regression? Well, I guess I expected something of the sort," Jeff agreed as he felt Little One's smug thoughts.

Proud of yourself, aren't you? Jeff thought to her.

{{{ Yes, }}} was the simple answer for a change.

You should be. From the way she was hanging on Bill, your idea about Bill calling her for his mate worked just fine. I only wish I could openly give you the praise you deserve. But I swore my oath to keep knowledge of the dimensions a secret. Some of that knowledge about you has gotten out because of the bear attack, but I couldn't help that. I wish I could tell the others — let them see you and give you your rightful praise.

{{{ If you are pleased, that is all I need. I have no reason to be praised. I am a Healer for my Prime and for those he directs me to take care of. }}}

Yes you do, and do it well. I thank you for myself, and for the others.

"I'd sure like to know where you were just then," Bill said.

Jeff grinned at him. "Reckon they're going to feed us this morning?" he asked instead of answering.

-------

Jeff sat in his office, the door locked, his encrypted satellite phone in hand.

" ... Yes, Sir. I'll be waiting."

Shutting the phone off, he locked it back in the desk drawer. Diana isn't going to be pleased, but she's probably expecting it, anyway.

-------

A little later Jeff and his wives all gathered in the bedroom. Melissa had pushed in a serving tray with sweet rolls, soft drinks and coffee. When everyone was served and either seated on furniture, or propped up with pillows on the bed, Jeff began.

Turning his chair a little and crossing his legs, "Okay, here goes. I've contacted someone..."

"Your General," Diana broke in.

"Uh, no. The Colonel. And how did you know..."

There were giggles from the girls, and a stern look from Diana that cut the giggles off like a switch.

"Just a guess," she said, deadpan.

Jeff stared at her for a second. She stared back.

Knowing this wasn't the time, Jeff continued, "I'll be leaving in a couple of hours. I'll probably be back tomorrow — next day, latest. I'm going to try and set something up to take care of Ingles and this organization he works for."

"You will not 'volunteer' for another of those missions better described as suicide," Diana said. Jeff could barely see her mouth move. He was sure her teeth were bared.

"Look, Baby. I'm not going on a mission. I'm just getting help with this. Dealing with Ingles would be easy enough. Jill knows his address. Bill and I could pay him a visit, but I keep thinking about what Little One sent me from Jill's memories. Sure, Jill just overheard this, but Ingles was so confident of his conditioning that he talked in front of her, both on the phone and when the people he dealt with were there. Apparently they never thought anything about talking in front of their slaves.

"Making a slave serve men like them while the slave remains naked is pretty much 'standard procedure' with this type of asshole, from what I hear. After a while the bastards begin to actually think that the slave is too stupid to understand what they hear.

"Still, I'm uncomfortable with your going back to these people." It was obvious that she meant Jeff's military outfit. When Jeff started to say something, Diana, continued quickly on. "Oh, I know they keep track of you. Remember, your wives know where you are all the time. It doesn't take someone as smart as Helen to figure out what's going on when you go in your office and lock the door. It's not as if we think you're in there masturbating," she teased, which produced a number of giggles.

"Of course, we would be glad to help if you needed it," Joyce piped up.

"Yeah, I'll bet," from Melissa who quickly ducked the pillow that Joyce launched.

"Seriously," Diana resumed, "you came back with a new scar a couple of years ago. We know a bullet went through your chest. You've only been gone a time or two since then, and I'm not certain about those times, since you were 'traveling' so much then. Most of your other scars are gone now with Little One doing her thing, but she left that one scar. We know that she could have completely removed it, but we suspect it's there for 'bragging rights.' Whatever. It scares me to death."

Diana's eyes flashed with unshed tears. Angrily, she shook her head to dislodge them. "You've served your time, dammit. Why won't they leave you alone?" The question was rhetorical, and everyone knew it.

"I'll be back in a couple of days, Baby," Jeff said pulling her onto his lap and hugging her. "I'm not going anywhere else."

Jeff changed the subject. "What about Alesha?"

"What about her?" Laura said as Diana got out of Jeff's lap so he could take the cup of coffee her handmaiden was offering.

"Thank you, Sweetheart," Jeff responded with a smile. "Is she still driving the Expedition?" he asked as he tentatively sipped the hot coffee.

"Yeah, she said they plowed the road up to the hotel, but with the last snow, there's still snow and ice on the road anyway. It takes a four-wheel drive or chains to get up the steep part, so I just put her in the Expedition for the winter. She didn't want to take the 'charity, ' but she couldn't have gotten to work without the SUV's four-wheel drive and snow tires."

"Does she think the job will last after the ski season?"

"She says they like her. She's working the front desk by herself already. Who knows? If not, there will be other jobs, or she can start to college. She's a darned smart girl."

"I would feel better if she would just forget the fucking job and sign up for next semester," Jeff snarled. "Or get with Helen and let her sign her up for some online courses. Dammit, she helped save Joyce, and the only thing Alesha will accept from us is a place to stay. She's working at a minimum wage job..."

"Jeff, she has to. Well, in her mind she does," Diana corrected herself. "She had to fuck that guy in Denver to have a place to live last winter. Then this asshole she chose out here was just as bad. Between the two, she's gun-shy of men, to use one of your favorite terms. She wants to stand on her own feet. Heck, it's amazing that she trusts Jesse enough to see him."

"So poor Jesse goes around with a set of blue balls because of these assholes she's had in her life?"

"Come on, Jeff," Joyce said. "They've known each other little more than a week. I was shot last Friday night a week ago."

"Yeah, shit, I know. So much has happened, it just seems longer. Hell, I like both of them. I just hope she doesn't screw up and let him get away. He obviously thinks she's something, but I would be damn surprised if he's gotten much past holding her hand. They sure don't look like it when they're around us."

"She's thankful to be living with us," Arlene said. "She's planning to save as much of her salary as she can so she can start college next year. We keep the Expedition filled up every night when she comes in so she won't be buying gas for it out of her pocket. We told her about the credit card in the glove compartment, of course, but we're afraid she won't use it."

"She couldn't have gotten paid yet," Jeff interrupted.

"We took care of that," Laura answered. "We 'advanced' her some cash, but she's adamant that she is going to pay us back as soon as she gets her first check."

"Shit," Jeff exclaimed, frustrated. "She and Jesse kept my wife from bleeding to death. All I can do for him is fix his truck, and all I can do for her is give her a place to live. Shit. They're about as hardheaded as..."

"You are," Diana chimed in with a grin.

Jeff glared at her, but it had no effect. "Well, that's about it for our family meeting, I guess," Jeff said, changing the subject as he started to get up.

"Wait," Joyce said. "The Sheriff told me I would have to be off two weeks per departmental regulations. He started the two weeks the day after I got home from the hospital. In other words, it's been a week today. Everyone else is working seven days a week and I'm sitting on my butt. I'm going to see him this morning. I need to go back to work."

"And do you still dream about it?" Jeff quietly asked, since he had awakened her the night before when she was having a nightmare.

"That's beside the point..."

"It's one of the main reasons you're off. Your mind needs to heal, too. Diana mentioned the scar on my chest. I sometimes still dream about that. You need the two weeks, no matter how well you feel physically. Tate will laugh at you when you ask. He's been there, too."

"Laugh at me or not, I'm going," Joyce snarled a little more than she meant to.

Jeff just grinned at her.

"Well, I guess it's my turn now," Caitlin said. "I'm going down to Winter Park Memorial and put in an application."

Joyce's head snapped in Caitlin's direction. "I thought you said you would never work in a small hospital. They don't have the equipment, or intensive care units; all the things you're used to and have all that training for. You're way overqualified."

"Well, they do have one intensive care unit. Everything — surgery, medical, cardiac — is just rolled into one, but I don't have any choice," Caitlin reasoned as she looked at her lover, now sister-wife. "I can't commute to Denver, and I don't want to stay there for three days, even if I can get them to schedule me for my regular three, twelve hour shifts all in a group. You know how mixed up my schedule sometimes is: one on, one off, work two, then a big skip, then work three in a row, then who knows. Even if they'll work with me to have all my shifts in a row, I would have to stay in Denver, or at the house — by myself. We need to sell the house, and I don't want to be away from all of you, and my husband, so..." she said, her voice trailing off.

Jeff didn't know what to say. He was very aware that this was coming up since Caitlin only had another week of vacation before she had to report for work, but he had avoided the subject, waiting for Caitlin to make up her own mind.

Jeff sighed. "Again, I'll say it. My wives don't have to work. Hell, I don't have to work, and other than working a little on my invention, I haven't. The both of you can just quit..."

Well, that went over like the proverbial lead balloon, as he feared it would. Every wife in the room stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

"Well, it was a thought," he quickly amended. What the fuck? Why is everybody siding with Joyce and Caitlin? They don't have to work ... Oh, but they have a responsibility,  he mentally chided, knowing better than to say it aloud. A fucking assumed responsibility,  he snarled mentally, but he dropped the subject before he screwed up and said something aloud ... and everyone got a headache come bedtime. I even understand, and I admire them for it, but dammit they're safe here. Out of this house, well... 

-------

Fred had Carla bent over the bed. Jessica had already passed out and was lying to the side. He had managed to stay functional — well mostly so — through his/Jessica's/Brenda's orgasm a few minutes ago. Brenda still hadn't said anything to him so he thought she was still out, too. In the meantime, he had Carla by the hips, her ass in the air, and (according to her) was trying to rearrange her womb.

"Dammit, Fred, you're trying to kill me with that baseball bat," she whined. Of course the orgasm she was just recovering from belied her whining.

"I appreciate your trying to puff up my ego," Fred said, slowing his strokes slightly, "but we both know that's bullshit."

"Yeah, well, you're not the one with that thing crammed up your ass."

Fred shifted forward so he could grasp her jiggling titties. Gently massaging, then stripping his fingers down across her nipples produced another whimper as she built toward yet another orgasm. "It's not in your ass. It's in your pussy," he commented as he changed the angle to tap against her cervix as he bottomed out each time. He called it tapping, Carla called it ramming.

"Well, you know what I mean," she gasped just before the orgasm crashed through her brain.

He felt Brenda wake up. "Oh, wow," she said as she felt Carla's orgasm.

"Oh, shit," Fred said as he felt Carla's orgasm reflected back shortly by Brenda's as the cycle built, followed almost instantly by his orgasm as he sprayed sperm against Carla's cervix. Brenda's screaming in his mind didn't help any. "Ah, fuck it," he thought as he surrendered to the greatest feeling on Earth. The world went black.



-------

Chapter 20


Carla stepped out of the shower. "Okay you two, your turn. Get it done. No time to get something started in the shower; I'm hungry."

Jessica grabbed Fred's hand as they stepped in, but Fred shook his head. "Not going to be anything going on," he answered Carla, "it would kill me."

"Oh, bull," Jessica said, "your cock is already beginning to swell. It will be full hard before I even get your back washed."

A moment later, as soon as the water was adjusted, Jessica started on his back with a soapy sponge. Reaching around, her breasts pressed to his back, she grabbed his already-hard cock. "See," she gloated.

Fred turned around, his cock swaying in front of him, then laughing, he spun Jessica away from him to wash her back, only slipping his hands around to caress her breasts for a moment. "It's not that my dick isn't ready, it's..."

"It's that you're used to those wimpy little man orgasms," Brenda finished his sentence in his head. Jessica, who was snuggled tight against him, giggled, even though her head wasn't touching his.

"You shouldn't call those things orgasms," Fred tried to defend, speaking aloud to Brenda. "More like a strike by a rogue asteroid."

"Like I said — wimpy little man orgasms. Now you've felt a real one, though. Well, actually several," she finished with a mental giggle.

Jessica giggled again. "Did you hear her?" Fred asked Jessica, wondering.

"Sure, loud and clear."

"But our heads weren't touching," he reasoned aloud.

"Told you I was getting stronger," Brenda answered.

Before Fred could say anything, Jessica said, "Yep, that too."

"Are you two going to stay in there all day?" Carla yelled over the sound of her hair drier.

"Coming, Mom," Jessica yelled back. "Well, not really," she laughed, "but thinking about it."

Soon Jessica had joined her mother with another drier going. "I'll get the car unhooked," Fred said as soon as he was dressed. Carla and Jessica were yelling a conversation back and forth over the sound of their driers.

"Kill some time, Baby," Carla hollered over the noise. "We'll pack a picnic lunch."

"Okay," he said going out the door to check the car out, and unhook.

A few minutes later as he was finishing up, the camp ATV pulled up beside him. "Good morning," Audrey said as she shut down, slid off the seat and stood. "How was your first night?"

Fred grinned at her. "Just excellent."

"I walked by last night to make my last check of the camp," she said, stumbling to a stop, her face flaring into a blush.

Oh, shit. I wonder how far they heard Jessica scream? he thought, then, "Uh, sorry about that," he managed, fighting to keep the grin off his face. Finally he gave up, laughed and winked at her. "I'm a lucky guy. But we'll try to tone it down, though."

Audrey chuckled. "Don't you dare. I'm sure even some of our — shall we say — older campers were a little more enthusiastic last night because of you guys — not to say anything about the younger folks. Sound carries around here..."

Their conversation was interrupted as Carla and Jessica came out carrying a big ice chest between them. "Good morning Audrey," both women said as they passed, then, "Pop the hatch," Carla said to Fred just as he pressed the remote he had hastily dug out of his pocket.

Embarrassed about her conversation with Fred now that the women were there, Audrey, looking guilty, stumbled out, "Good morning. Uh, are you guys going to tour Callaway today?"

"Yeah," Carla said as she and Jessica put the chest into the back and slammed the hatch. One glance at Audrey's flushed face and Carla wondered, Is he pumping out pheromones again? Not feeling them though, she continued. "If we can get this hunk of manhood started toward a restaurant before we starve."

Audrey took what she thought was her cue to leave their man alone, and prepared to leave, "Go on down to Main Street and take a right," she said pointing vaguely. "About two blocks down Main on the right is a little family restaurant that serves a great breakfast."

"Thanks," Carla said. "That sounds like the ticket."

"You guys have fun," Audrey said as she got on the ATV and started it. "Check on you later."

They watched the ATV turn onto the path. "That woman is in heat," Carla said as Jessica giggled.

"What?" Fred said. "Baby, why are you so down on her?"

Carla grinned at him. "Who said I was down on her? I'll bet she practically had to swim out of that building yesterday with all the pheromones you were pouring out. Besides, she is pretty, and darn sure has nice boobs."

"Baby, look," Fred said, desperation creeping into his voice, "she was just doing her job when she came by this morning. This is the South,  like I tried to tell you before. You're going to see this all over down here. People are more outgoing, and besides, this is an RV camp. This isn't some chain motel where they'll never see you again, no matter whether they're nice to you are not. Unlike the big corporations, she wants us to come back. We're money in the bank to her. Future revenue. Just look," he said pointing down the small road, "she stopped over there to talk to those people, too. Ten to one she'll stop to chat with everyone who is outside their RV."

"Yeah, she's doing her job, all right, and she's thinking about a good hard dick up her twat, if she plays her cards right," Carla giggled.

"Dammit, Baby, she's a nice lady."

Carla had just opened the car door, but stopped to look back and smile at him, "I never said she wasn't. Nice ladies like dick, too. Now let's eat. I'm starving," she finished as she got in the Cruiser grinning from ear to ear.

Jessica tried to tickle him by poking him in the ribs, then laughing, hastened to get in the car behind her mother as Brenda mentally joined in the laughter.

-------

The trio — if you didn't count Brenda — had just walked out of the little restaurant. A couple walked past them going inside, but paused to comment on the beautiful morning.

When the couple had gone on in, "Everyone in the place spoke to us. I mean, all the customers," Jessica said. "Heck, I thought people at home were friendly, but these people act like they all know us."

Fred escorted the women toward the small parking lot at the side of the building. He just grinned as Jessica went on, "I thought that waitress was going to shit when you ordered a 'tub of grits, ' though."

"Well, I had to get my point across that I didn't want some dinky little bowl this morning. I came more in the last twelve hours or so than I have in a long time," he understated. "I needed some major nourishment."

"Yeah, well you sure got it with those six eggs with a biscuit to match each of them ... and how many strips of bacon did you put in there with them? Not to say anything about that stack of hotcakes."

"Didn't count the bacon," Fred lied about the ten slices.

"And it was still less than twenty dollars for all of us, even with all the extra you had," Carla chipped in. "But you tipped the hell out of her. Of course, you should after that 'tub of grits' she brought you," she laughed

"Things are a little cheaper here," Fred said as they stopped at the Cruiser, "but the salaries are less, too. It evens out."

"Maybe so," Carla laughed, "but I'll bet that waitress will be telling about your breakfast for a while, not to mention the tip. That's probably the most she's seen anyone eat in her life. They would go broke if everyone ate that much. It's bound to be the most grits she's seen eaten — ever."

"Well, shit," Fred said, embarrassed. "I was hungry. The two of you almost killed me," he quietly answered. Then louder, "I was raised on a farm. I learned to like grits when I was a kid. Besides, they use real butter in there, and they weren't bashful about how much of it they dumped in that big bowl with the grits. The grits were darned good. Hell it was all good."

"Well, so long as you keep your strength up," Carla laughed. "You've got two women to service tonight."

Fred opened the doors for the women and they got in. While he was going around to the driver's door, Jessica reached past the seat to touch her mother's arm. "Uh, Mom. I think I'm going to have to pass tonight. I'm a little — well a lot — sore down there."

"Yeah. Me too, to be truthful. How many times did we do it, Baby?" Carla asked as Fred got in.

"Uh..." Fred said, trying to think.

"You came in Carla five times and four in Jessica," Brenda offered her mate.

"No way," Fred said aloud.

"What did she say?" both women wanted to know.

"Well..."

Carla grabbed Fred's shoulder. "How many, Brenda?"

Brenda told her.

"Shit, Baby. You came nine times last night and this morning."

"No way," Fred repeated as he backed up, then turned onto the street a moment later after checking for traffic, stalling as he tried to remember. Fuck, some of those orgasms were quick when everybody started coming and it just kept building with Brenda reflecting it back and forth. But after Brenda was out, I was able to give each of them a good fucking. Why can't I remember how many times? I know we slept some, but Brenda kept waking me up and suddenly I would want more. I've never come half that many times in twenty-four hours before, and damn ... my dick is starting to swell just thinking about the two of them on all fours with their asses in the air. They have some fine pussy tucked between their legs.

Fred stopped for a traffic light and Carla cupped her hand over his growing cock. It gave a lurch and pushed down the leg of his jeans, coming to rock-hard in seconds like he hadn't had any in months.

Carla sighed.

"What's going on up here," Jessica said as she leaned between the seats to look.

"Our man just sprung a hard-on," Carla giggled. "It might as well have gone 'bong.' It jumped out there like a spring."

"You're shitting me," Jessica said with a giggle. "After screwing us blind last night..."

"Don't forget this morning," Carla interrupted.

"My buddy could go twice," Jessica offered. "The first time lasted about a minute, if I were lucky. Then he could get it up again a little later. That time he would last for five minutes or so. After that, he had to use his tongue," she giggled.

"Well, I like to lick pussy, too," Fred agreed as Carla squeezed his cock through his jeans.

"Look, ladies. It isn't that far to Callaway. If you two keep on, the guy at the gate is going to see."

"So," Carla laughed. "He'll be jealous of that thing half-way to your knee."

"It is not that long," he denied, then went on, "I don't mind him being jealous of my women, but I don't want him staring at my dick."

"Spoil sport," Carla said as she withdrew her hand, but continued grinning, "and besides, who says it will be a man in the booth? Might be a woman. She'll darn sure appreciate the view."

Fred ignored her and concentrated on reading every sign or advertisement he could see as he drove — anything to get his mind off the two sexy women with him.

-------

As they pulled away from the gate, "This place isn't cheap," Carla said.

"Not a drop in the bucket compared to what Bush Gardens or Disney World will be."

"I don't think I'm interested in Disney World. I thought we were going sightseeing."

"We go wherever you two want to go. Doesn't matter to me one way or the other."

"This doesn't look like much," Jessica said from the back as they continued down the one-way road from the gate. Just looks about like the road outside... "Shit, look at that," she suddenly exclaimed pointing, as they came around a curve.

Fred laughed. "Hey, they have them back. The last time Brenda and I were here a couple of years ago, they had taken them down, or moved them somewhere."

"Pull over," Jessica squealed as she snatched her camera out of its case. "Wow. That looks so real. Like something from a science fiction movie."

Laughing, Fred pulled to the side of the road and sat while Jessica scrambled out of the car.

"What did they make them out of?" Carla wanted to know.

"When Jess gets done, we'll drive around on the other side of the hill where we can park and get a close-up view. But basically, they're made of saplings about an inch or inch and a half in diameter, molded and contoured to make the sculptures," he said as they looked at a giant ant and grasshopper sitting on the hillside. The whole hill was basically a field of wild flowers with the two creatures perched on the crest. From a distance, they did, indeed, look real.

Jessica got back and started to stow her camera. "Might as well leave it out," Fred said. "We're way past the peak this late in the year, but this place never ceases to surprise me. It makes for a relaxing day. Nothing gaudy ... well, unless it's spring, then the whole place is full of azaleas in bloom, not to mention the hundreds of other types of flowers, but there's still enough stuff in the fall to enjoy ourselves."

Later, back in the Cruiser after their visit with the giant ant and grasshopper sculptures, "The brochure says there are thirteen lakes. This place is huge," Carla said as she opened the map to inspect it, too.

"Yeah. I still get lost, even after coming here so many times over the years. If it weren't for those signs," Fred said pointing as they neared one of the intersections, "I would have a hard time finding my way out."

"They have a golf course in here," Jessica said pointing to their left.

"Well, actually, I think they have two," Fred supplied.

"Sixty-three holes," Jess said, now looking at the brochure her mother had put down, "Whatever that means. Wow, this place has fourteen thousand acres, and forty acres of something called an azalea bowl. Mom, we have to come back in the spring. I'm not much into flowers, but forty acres of most anything has got to be impressive."

Fred pulled into the parking lot of the Horticulture Center. Carla eyed the deceptively small entrance almost hidden by trees and vines. "Uh, Baby. I'm a farm gal. I don't think this is exactly my cup of tea. I'm just going to sit this one out," she began, as Fred chuckled.

"This is the biggest greenhouse you'll ever see. And calling it a greenhouse is more than just a little misleading. You better use the bathroom as we go in the little visitor center there. No telling how long we'll be in here, because I always get lost in this thing. It's several, two-story buildings joined at weird angles. This isn't what you expect. Just remember how many employees we've already passed in the last couple of miles. They have many people working here all the time. Forget plants sitting around in buckets like you would see in a greenhouse; these folks do it in style — nothing so crude as a pot or bucket. Many of the plants are sculptured, some to look like very real animals, and there's even a waterfall where you can walk behind the falling water. It's a relaxing place to visit, but you'll still be amazed. Now get your pretty butt up and come on. And remember, I'm not exactly the prissy type, and I like the place," the big man said as he unfolded from the car.

Later they sat in the Cruiser and Carla reached over to take his hand. "Thank you, Baby. I don't know ... I suddenly feel like a load has been lifted from my shoulders. I didn't even know I was tense..."

Fred looked at her, his face serious, "That's what this trip is about. Oh, not just this place, or today, but the whole trip. You two," he said turning to include Jessica, "have been through a lot. Oh, you've gotten through it; done well despite everything that's happened. But you've lost your husband and father, had to sell off all your cattle to try to keep up with those hospital costs so those bastards would continue the procedures to try and save your man. Then have your home and source of income foreclosed on, and more. Stress gnaws at us all," he sighed. "And I know that I fall into that category too. I still miss Brenda, even with her in my head. I can't hold her ... can't feel her tucked against me when we sleep."

"Me, too, Baby," the voice said in his head.

"So this is just the beginning. The morning of the first day of getting away from it all for a while. We know our friends, not to say anything about the Matthews family, will take care of things while we're gone. This is just a 'slow-down' place to start our trip."

"Kinda like slow down and smell the roses," Jessica teased as she looked out at the flowers, shrubs, and landscaped grounds that faded into the distance.

"Yeah," Fred said, laughing, as he started the car. "What did you two put in that picnic cooler? I hope you brought plenty to drink. I've never found a drink machine in this place. They want you to buy it in the restaurant, I guess, but even more so, they don't want idiots to throw stuff on the side of the roads in here. So you either bring it with you, or eat in the restaurant."

"Find us a place and we'll show you," Carla laughed.

"We'll eat by the lake, then visit the butterfly pavilion."

Carla looked at him. "Butterflies?" she said with something less — way less — than enthusiasm in her voice.

"Yep," Fred laughed as he pulled out and consulted the signs at the end of the driveway, "The biggest fucking glass butterfly house you could ever imagine. I'm talking about big enough to get lost in. They have butterflies in there massive enough to fly off with you, and you'll walk the trail right through them," he exaggerated — well a little about the size — but not much.

-------

"There. Take a left. Picnic Area and Mr. Cason's Vegetable Garden," she said reading the sign. "A vegetable garden? Now that sounds interesting," Jessica snickered. "Not."

"Well, the lake and picnic area are just across the road from the garden, and there won't be much of anything in the garden this late in the year, but come spring you might have to eat those words. I have pictures of a field of tulips that is so bright the flowers almost look like they're made of fluorescent plastic. And they grow about every crop that will grow in the state of Georgia. Even gals who have been raised on a farm might be just a wee mite taken aback with the way they do it for display. They give all the produce away to charity, too."

"Sorry," Jessica said. "You've proved us wrong all morning. I need to shut my mouth."

"As long as you remember to open it just right tonight," Fred teased as he turned into the picnic area.

Blushing, "Any time, Big Man," Jessica said. "Any time. And ... as sore as I am, that's probably what it will be tonight."

"This look good enough?" Fred asked, nodding to a table sitting under one of the tall pines.

"Looks good to me," Carla said as they pulled close and stopped.

As they met at the back of the car and Fred opened the hatch, he put his arm around Jessica. "Baby," he said turning her to face him. "I didn't realize that you were sore. I would never..."

"Hush," Carla interrupted. "Jess is right. If we're too sore, then we'll use our mouths. We will take care of our man."

"Baby, that makes me feel..."

Carla shoved an end of the big cooler around toward him. "Hush, you big sweet lug, and grab that end. Let's get this show on the road."

"Get the bug spray," Fred called out over his shoulder as he and Carla started toward the picnic table with the cooler. "They have mosquitoes here so big that they have a tail gunner."

Jessica laughed as she casually reached in to the back seat and got the spray. She stood for a moment looking out on the lake, then, "Oh, shit," as a cloud of gnats found her. Shortly, the bug spray can hissed as she liberally sprayed herself all over.

Fred stood at the table grinning at her. "No snow here in south Georgia like that six inches we left on the ground at the farm, but we darn sure have insects," he unnecessarily said.

"Got that right," Carla said as she snatched the can of insect repellant.

-------

HELICOPTER APPROACHING, the security system announced.

Jeff, having already kissed his wives, walked out the back. Shortly, the black craft had landed on the pad, its motor still running and the rotors continuing to turn. The door opened when he was a few steps away. As soon as Jeff was aboard, the door closed, the motor came to full life and the craft lifted. Soon it had disappeared over the mountain.

Later, the helicopter landed at an airbase where Jeff, or someone with his general build and wearing similar clothes, got out and went into a building. Shortly, that person, or Jeff, walked out of the building and boarded a small jet that was soon rolling down a runway. Later, at another base, someone with his general build and dressed like him exited the plane. Shortly it was back in the queue waiting for takeoff with a passenger aboard that fit Jeff's general description from a distance. The rest of his day would be much the same until the likelihood of his being followed, or tracked by any means, including satellite, was remote, indeed.

-------

Kathy walked into the living room followed by Bill with Jill clinging to his arm.

"We need to talk to you," Kathy said to Diana.

"About a wedding, I presume," Diana replied as she leaned back into the couch and crossed her legs at the knee, showing an expanse of beautiful leg in the short skirt as one foot gently swung back and forth. Smiling, "Come sit down. We have a lot to talk about."

At a glance from Diana, "I think I'll see if Mr. Wainwright is free. He and I haven't played a game of pool in a while," Bill hastily said.

"Thanks, Bill," Diana said. "I'll give your women back to you shortly. But first, we need to have some girl-talk."

"Yes, Ma'am," Bill replied with a wink. Then just as he got to the door of the big room, he looked back for a second. Jill was seated next to Diana on the couch with Kathy sitting very near them in a chair. He saw Diana stand and put out cups on the coffee table, her long breasts swaying under her top.

Diana is beautiful. Jill is gorgeous. Kathy is pretty. Kathy isn't in their class in a way, but is just as sexy and could match any woman, though. Both of my wives are smart. It's hard to believe that Jill has started deferring to Kathy. Jill has always been independent. Maybe her personality will come back when she's complete. She has a hymen, but she says she doesn't feel complete inside yet. She's proud of that hymen, though. I don't know what to think about that. She's already given me her hymen and her virginity.

He realized he was staring, and turned into the hall deep in thought. Now she wants to get married again. But I think I had better tread lightly about saying "again." She wants me to wear my uniform. I wonder if it'll fit. I weigh the same so maybe it will. Heck, with whatever Jeff did to me, I feel like a million bucks. She looks about the same age that she did when we got married. Kathy seems almost as enthused as Jill about this. Well, I just did it with Kathy; I surely can do it one more time with Jill. They made it clear that this wasn't a reaffirmation of our wedding vows. It will be a wedding. I better get that into my head. Now let me see if I can find Mr. Wainwright.

-------

Fred and the women rolled back into camp about five. As they passed the inn, Audrey walked out with a new camper. They all waved to her and she waved back.

"I swear, I could see that woman blush even from the car," Carla said as they turned into the drive that would carry them to their campsite.

"Why would she blush?" Fred asked innocently, not having a clue.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Carla asked instead of answering.

Jessica, realizing something was up, had already leaned forward so she wouldn't miss anything.

"Now wait a minute, Baby. That sounds like a loaded question. I have the two of you, and I'm sure not looking..."

"Answer me ... please. I'm not setting traps, if that's what your thinking."

"Well, sure she's pretty," Fred tried to casually say as he pulled in behind their RV and shut off the engine.

"Fred, look at me," Carla blurted out, "and stop being defensive. I need to know. Do you find her attractive?"

What the crap is she doing? She isn't acting like she's jealous, but why is she insisting on my answering? Fuck it; I'm not going to lie about this. Turning in the seat, he took Carla's hand. "Baby, I love you. And I love you, too, Jessica," he said as he caught her eye for a moment... "Yes. I think she's darned pretty, and she's intelligent, too. Now before you come down on my ass, Carla, you asked for it over and over. I'm not going to lie about it to you, and I'm sure as hell not going to sneak off and try to fuck her, so..."

Carla grabbed him by the ears and kissed him. "You are so funny. All right," she said unhooking her seat belt. "Let's get the picnic stuff out of the car and get everything put away. I'm going for a walk."



-------

Chapter 21

 ... Carla grabbed him by the ears and kissed him. "You are so funny. All right," she said unhooking her seat belt. "Let's get the picnic stuff out of the car and get everything put away. I'm going for a walk."

As soon as the women were out of the car, Carla grabbed Jessica's hand and headed inside.

Fred opened the hatch and stood looking at the RV. Did I not hear her say, "Let's get the picnic stuff out of the car?" As in let us all get the stuff. Then why am I standing here by myself?

Grumping, he put the big cooler on the ground and closed the hatch. Picking the cooler back up he went to the door of the RV, but no one opened it for him. Setting the cooler down again, he opened the door, carried the chest into the galley, then went back and closed the door.

He almost got an attitude, but decided that the women were up to something and he had best find out what before he said something that would come back to bite him in the butt. So instead, he put everything up, wiped the cooler down and returned it to its storage area in a compartment under the RV.

He had just slipped his shoes off, propped his feet up and turned on the TV to check the weather when the women came out of the bedroom. "Come on. Take me to the store. We need to pick up a few things," Jessica said.

"What? Oh, Jess, I'm bushed. Surely we have enough here for supper tonight. I'm sure there are three more steaks in the freezer..."

Jessica pushed his shoes close with her foot, then just stood smiling at him with her hands on her hips.

What the fuck are they up to? But he put on his shoes, picked up his wallet and was ready.

"We'll be back in a little while," Fred called out.

"Okay," Carla said from the bedroom, her voice sounding distracted.

-------

Shortly, Carla came out of the bedroom wearing a fresh set of shorts and top, her makeup, what little there was of it, freshened.

Five minutes later, she walked into the lodge. A middle-aged man, about five feet ten inches tall with a rugged countenance, came out of a doorway behind the counter when she rang the bell.

"May I help you?"

"Uh, yes. I was expecting to find Audrey here."

"She's off. She and I swap out. I'm Rob. We co-own the place. I'll be glad to help you. You guys checked in yesterday, didn't you?"

"Uh, yes we did. But I just came by to see her. I really don't need anything concerning the camp. Uh, do you suppose I could call her at home?"

Rob chuckled as he picked up the phone. "Hang on a sec and I'll take care of that for you," he said as he dialed. "Your name is..."

"Just tell her Carla needs to see her."

After a second, "There's a lady named Carla here to see you. Are you decent ... Okay, I'll send her down." Rob chuckled and hung up the phone.

"Down that hallway," he said, pointing. "Take the last door at the end, then down the stairs. She has an apartment."

"Thanks," Carla replied as she turned away. Shortly, she knocked on Audrey's apartment door.

"Well, hi," Audrey said as she opened up. "Uh, come on in."

When Carla was seated on the couch, Audrey hesitated a second, then sat on a nearby chair. "Uh, look..." she nervously said.

Carla reached out to take Audrey's hand for a moment. "Wait. You read me wrong this morning. So let's start all over. First off, I'm not here to complain about anything. We're having a marvelous time." Carla paused, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, she sighed. "Look, I need to tell you some things, and they're probably going to sound weird."

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee, a coke, something stronger?" Audrey said nervously.

Carla sat back and relaxed. "Coffee if you have some already made, otherwise a soft drink would be fine."

"I've just made a pot," Audrey replied, getting up and starting to walk out of the room, then turning, "Look, come on into the kitchen with me. We can drink it in there and maybe..."

"Feel more at ease with each other," Carla said as she stood smiling.

"Yeah. Exactly. Come on, we'll get to know each other," she said as she let Carla into a very neat, but slightly small kitchen.

A few minutes later they sat at the table with a pack of Oreo Double Stuffed cookies between them. Carla dipped her Oreo in her coffee and took a bite. "These are sinfully good," she said, smiling.

"Yeah, and the calories are really sinful," Audrey laughed as she pulled the cookie apart and daintily licked the icing.

"That, too," Carla responded as she checked out the brunette: hair just off her shoulders, a pretty face with a bit of a button nose, pouting lips and dark brown eyes. "I think my man dropped a bunch of pheromones on you yesterday..." When Audrey started to say something, Carla raised her hand a little to still the comment.

"Please, just sit and listen for a few minutes. And remember what I said about not coming here to complain. Actually, I think he picked well. I've never seen him even look at a woman other than my daughter and me."

"She's really your daughter? I know you said that yesterday, but you don't look old enough."

"Well, there's a reason for that, and I imagine that you've guessed Fred's age at being a lot younger than he is, too." Carla took a sip of coffee and sat back in her chair. Grinning, she asked, "Ever heard of an Alpha male?"

Audrey chuckled. "Well, there was a guy in my class in high school that called himself one. The rest of us just called him Alpha Asshole."

"And I'm sure he was, but Fred is a true Alpha Male. I think you felt that yesterday. I'm also willing to bet — to be crude — that you were wet when you got on that little truck of yours." At Audrey's frown, Carla hurried on. "I apologize for the crude remark, but I know he liked you. I could feel it."

"So you're saying that you and your daughter are ... well, uh..."

"His women? Yes, absolutely. Last night was the first time he has actually made love to us. His wife died before we met him, and he wouldn't touch us for awhile, but last night, he finally did. I hope my daughter didn't wake up the whole camp."

"Oh, it wasn't that loud. I was just walking down the path and..."

"Stopped to listen when my daughter started screaming," Carla finished for her. "And don't even think about my being upset. I'm not. Far from it, for I realized that Fred liked you, and I got to thinking about it. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that I needed to come and talk with you. And I wasn't kidding about the pheromones. I could feel them when he got back in the RV, so I knew he was interested in you."

Audrey sat looking at her. "I don't usually respond well to men — not since my divorce. But Fred is a nice looking guy. There is something about him. But you don't have anything to worry about. I'll stay away from your RV. If you need anything, I'll send Rob..."

"Would you stop? Once again, I'm not mad at you. Actually, on the contrary, I'm glad it happened."

Carla sat quietly for a moment. Oh, crap. I can't believe I'm doing this. But Jessica went with it, too. Diana said it might happen when the Queen Bitch syndrome took effect, but I didn't believe her. Now here I am shopping for another mate for our man. This is unreal. But he proved last night that he could handle us. Handle us? Ha. He fucked us unconscious, over and over. I remember it with every step I take today. If Fred knew how sore I am, he would have a stroke.

Carla reached out for Audrey's hand. "Do you have anyone? Boyfriend, fiancé?"

"Uh, no. My husband and I divorced four years ago. I walked in and caught him eating out a teenybopper who was barely legal. The son-of-a-bitch had always refused to touch my pussy with his mouth. I stood and watched them for ten minutes. When he started to mount her, I went into the living room and turned on the TV. It took another five minutes for the asshole to even notice the racket. Then he ... Ah fuck, you don't want to hear it ... He got the house and the bank account. I got the RV camp and the bills.

"Rod bought forty-nine percent of the camp when I couldn't handle the place by myself. We've expanded and fixed things up since then. My husband had inherited it when his father died, but Alex never did like running an RV camp, so I wound up with it in the divorce."

Carla smiled at her. "Better than what happened to me. Fred has turned our lives around, though. But we'll talk about that later. Come spend some time with us. We'll eat a steak and roast some marshmallows later, while we get to know each other better."

When Audrey started to protest, Carla spoke up, "Just come down and eat with us. We'll tell you about our farm in Colorado and the things that have happened to us. Come on. Don't say no. I like you and I know my daughter does. Let's go watch our man burn a steak or two. He's pretty good at it."

"Burning, or cooking?" Audrey laughed.

"He's actually a pretty good cook, but we seldom let him do it unless it's to grill something."

"Okay," Audrey said standing. "Let me just..."

"Bring something to sleep in, and whatever you'll need if you have to work in the morning. No use your having to walk back up here late tonight. We have a couch that folds out into a nice bed. Of course, if you don't like us..."

"I couldn't spend the night. I mean..." But why not? she thought. I have few friends, and no man friends. Well, other than Rob, but he's married and way older, anyway. I like this woman, and I would get to be around that hunk she's married to. Hmmm, maybe not married since she and her daughter are both sleeping with him. What do I think about that? Shit, I think it's hot. I've never been around anyone like that. I'm definitely not into that sort of thing. But it won't hurt to eat with them. They all seem nice. Oh, well, why not?

"Why not?" Carla asked, repeating Audrey's thoughts. "Tell me one reason why not? You're a grown woman, not attached. Come on and at least eat with us, we'll worry about where you sleep when it gets late."

"I'll go with you, but I'm coming back up here to sleep. Just let me wash my face."

"Hurry," Carla said as she tried to stifle a grin. "Fred's not there right now. I had Jessica take him out for awhile so I could come talk with you. But I wish you would bring something to sleep in. I just know we're going to have a ball. You'll see. Now hurry. Jess can't keep him out forever. I'm supposed to call her when we get back to the RV."

Audrey stood looking down at the woman sitting at her kitchen table. "I think I'd love to come eat with you, I'll just..."

"Great. Hurry."

Audrey went to clean up a little while Carla thought. If you bring something to sleep in, that's fine; otherwise, I'll give you one of Fred's tee-shirts. That will send a message, too. Yeah, that'll work. Hmmm. Maybe I can get him to put it on for a few minutes, then I'll fold it so it looks fresh. It will be, but I'll bet his smell, and maybe a few pheromones will be left in it. Yeah, that'll do it.

-------

Earlier in the day:

Bill had left Jill and Kathy in the living room with Diana. After a few minutes he had located his boss and told him basically that he was at loose ends. Wainwright was agreeable for a game of pool, and a few minutes later, they tossed for the break. Frank won the toss and broke. Bill leaned on his cue and watched Frank gleefully run the table.

"He's gotten better," Margaret said as she walked into the room, "and he plays pool pretty well, also," she said straight-faced. Margaret hugged him as they laughed. "You did well with Jill. She couldn't take her eyes off you at breakfast, and Frank needs some time away from the company, so this will work out fine for us, too."

"I'm feeling guilty about my problems keeping you two from going back to Saint Louis..."

"Oh, hush," Margaret said, all smiles. "There is no point in him working himself to death. He has all the money in the world, anyway. This gives him an excuse to get his mind off things for a few days."

"Jeff told me how to call a mate," Bill said, changing the subject.

"Well, it looks like you did just fine with Kathy, despite not knowing how at the time," Margaret teased as she winked at him. "A little love and a dose of pheromones will do it..."

" ... every time," Bill concluded for her. "Yeah, I've been hearing that lately," he laughed. Turning serious, he asked, "What about you two? I know you're in love — have been for a long while. He asked and you've accepted. So when is it going to happen?"

Frank was in the midst of racking the balls for their second game, but he stopped and walked over. "It's going to be soon. I've waited long enough," he said as he put his arm around Margaret.

Margaret kissed Frank on the cheek before turning back to Bill. "Heck, I've been in love with him for years; been his mistress for a couple, but with Jeff doing whatever he did, Frank added his pheromones to the picture and I couldn't say no anymore," she finished, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

"So when's it going to be?"

Margaret sighed. "It's not that simple. Frank and I know a lot of people. Some are true friends; some are business acquaintances; some are supervisors and managers of our plants and other plants we do business with. There will be a lot of people that will expect to be at our wedding. This is our home now. We want the wedding to be here, but..."

"But what? I know that Diana and Jeff would love for you to have it here."

"Yeah," Frank broke in, "but if we have it here, we'll have to bring in people to clean and cook — what have you. Most of our guests will be coming from quite a distance, and with the logistics of this place, we can't just have them show up for the wedding. Most of the people we invite will have to come a day early, and stay through the wedding night. So the cooking and cleaning crews will have to be here and intimately involved with the Matthews' family for two or three days. How long do you think it will be before someone notices the relationship of all those women and Jeff? He doesn't need rumors getting out. Well, not any more than they probably are already," he chuckled.

Margaret spoke up, "Diana has volunteered for her and her sister-wives to do all the cooking and cleaning, instead of hiring local people to do it, but ... that just doesn't seem right to put them through all that. We're at an impasse. So we've just avoided it by doing nothing," she said, her face showing her concern.

Bill grinned at her. "If Diana hears that you're holding up your wedding worrying about a little work for her and her sister-wives, you're going to be in trouble."

"Yeah, there's that, too. But I disagree with the 'little' work. There's bound to be thirty or forty people that we absolutely have to invite - maybe more when we actually get started on making out a list. Think about it. The rooms will have to be prepared, then cleaned each day, beds made, meals will have to be served three times a day ... We can't do that to the Matthews. We might just have to have it in Saint Louis whether we want to or not. That way, we could have everyone stay at a nice hotel, hire a limo service to transport them around, and leave the rest to a wedding planner. All the Matthews will have to do is show up. Crap," she sighed, "I wish we could have it here with just our family," she finished, referring to everyone at the retreat as their family...

Arlene, sent to find Margaret to help with Jill's wedding plans, stood near the doorway listening. A look of concern on her face, she turned away and went back to talk with her sister-wives.

-------

Frank "magnanimously" allowed Bill to break this time. Then he got to lean on his cue and watch Bill run the table.

"I can't believe I did that," Bill kept saying when he had sunk the last ball. "I've never done that in my life."

Frank had long since lost his bit of cockiness. Well, here I thought I had gotten better from the practice I had been doing lately. But after watching Bill, hmmm, I guess Little One has done a few things to us that I didn't realize she had. My dick gets hard with a thought. Now I've damn sure noticed that. I keep Margaret walking bowlegged. I feel like I'm sixteen, but I wonder what other things Little One's enhancements have done for us.

Frank slapped his pilot on the shoulder. "Bet we could win twenty bucks at the local pool hall."

"Yeah," Bill laughed, "until some of the guys got pissed and whipped our ass for winning their money," Bill finished as he put his cue back in the rack, then reached for Frank's to put it up, too.

"Maybe we need to get Jeff to teach us to fight," Frank said as he looked at his hands, thinking that the only real work he had done in years was when he helped with the silos a couple weeks ago.

-------

Caitlin had called and talked to someone at the hospital. Joyce dropped her off to put in an application while she (Joyce) went on to the Sheriff's Department.

A well-dressed man walked out of the office and on into the hallway, obviously preoccupied with whatever he was thinking. "He'll see you now," the Sheriff's secretary told Joyce.

"Thanks," Joyce returned as she got up and walked through the door into Tate's office.

Tate stood as she entered. After greetings, he offered coffee, which she declined.

"So what brings my star deputy in this morning?" he asked, a gleam in his eye.

"Well, I need to talk with you about this two-week thing," she said as she pulled a seat closer, and they both sat. "I'm fine, and feeling guilty as can be for sitting on my butt while everyone else is working seven days a week."

"Well, it isn't quite that bad. We've had one deputy come back to work. And we do manage to give everyone an off-day occasionally," Tate returned. "plus they're making a ton of overtime pay."

"Yeah, well, be that as it may, we were already way understaffed, with the flu and everything. I don't need to be off right now. What is everyone thinking about me? I'm sure there is some resentment building over my being off and not even hurt..."

"Not hurt?" Tate interrupted. "Almost killed,  is more like it. You nearly died in that hospital, young lady. Hell, you would have died on the scene if it were not for Goodman and Turcott. And that doctor on the helicopter said you almost didn't make it to the hospital. Have you forgotten that film clip as they rolled that gurney from the chopper to the hospital?"

"Uh, well, no. I guess I'll never forget it," she admitted.

Tate's eyes bored into hers. "What about that last couple of minutes in that living room with that maniac? Bet you've had that run through your mind a few times since you've gotten home, huh?"

"Well," Joyce said, thinking about the hundreds of times she had relived those moments, her face flushing. Don't cry you stupid bitch,  she admonished herself as Tate's words rocked her.

His voice suddenly soothing, "No one in this department will say a word about your being off, especially the veterans. If some of our newer people even hint at it, the other deputies will come down on them like gangbusters, and God help them if their Sergeant or Lieutenant hears anyone bitching about your being off."

Tate leaned back in his seat to look at her for a moment. "My Sheriff made me take the same amount off time off when I had to kill a perp, and I got the lecture just like you when I wanted to come back before my two weeks were up. I don't want to insult you, but as I told you before, I can send you to a psychiatrist if you wish. You won't be the first deputy who has seen her. You took a life. Hell, you offered your life so that Turcott could live. We've had people with a lot less happen to them than you've had who asked to see our psychiatrist. Your choice, though."

"No," Joyce quickly answered. "I'll admit that this ... thing has gone through my mind over and over. I keep wanting to ... change what happened. If I had been a little quicker, if I had said something different, if I had paid more attention and realized that he was in the house..."

"Welcome to the club," Tate said, his voice dead serious. "We all go through that, and not just when we have to kill someone, or we're seriously hurt. A woman dies in a domestic fight, and we've been to the house many times. What if we had done something different? I arrested a guy for domestic violence. He got out of jail on bond twenty-four hours later, went home and killed his wife. That will always haunt me."

"But you did everything you could. You arrested him and put him in jail. We can't stop them from making bond," Joyce blurted out.

"Sure, I know that, but my heart just can't seem to realize it," he said leaning forward again to prop his arms on the desk. "Things like that are one of the major reasons that cops and deputies have such a high incidence of suicide, not to say anything about drinking problems — not to say anything about the divorce rate. Think about how few of us actually work our thirty to get our retirement. Most quit, or get fired for going off on someone all out of all proportion to what is happening at the moment. Chances are they're really going off on all those incidences in the past that they can't get out of their system. Some asshole tips the scales and gets his butt whipped all out of sync with what's happening just then. The deputy gets fired, and we lose another one."

They sat looking at each other for a moment. "This isn't going the way I expected," Joyce quietly said.

Tate sighed. "We're fortunate to have you, Joyce. Number one: You're married to a guy who has more money than ... well, you get the drift. You don't have to be here, and I'll bet he's not too pleased with your being a deputy, anyway. Number two: You've proved yourself over and over in the short span of time you've been with the department. You need to go home, enjoy your life with your husband and your, uh ... sister-wives, I think you guys call each other, and forget this place until you have to put that uniform on and come back to work."

Tate looked at her, a smile creeping onto his face. "Deputy, if I thought for an moment the two-week rule wasn't needed, I would change it this instant. And never for a second think that I'm not flattered and more by your coming in to try and get me to let you come back to work. Hell, flattered, isn't even close. But I'm not upholding the rule because of my relationship with Jeff, or with you, for that matter. You need to be off — anyone would. Two weeks won't do it, either, but it will give you time to get your mind around it to some extent. You will relive that few minutes off and on for years, if not for the rest of your life. Now get out of my office and go enjoy yourself. Heal."

Joyce smiled and stood. "I brought these," she said, handing him two letters. "I would appreciate your putting the top one on our bulletin board," she said, "and the other one is for the fire department. They're thank you notes for all the calls I've received wishing me well while I've been off, and all that was done for me that night."

"I'll get this one on our board right now, and I'll send a deputy over with the other one to the fire department. Nice of you to do this," he said as he read the letters.

Tate stood, thought for a second, then, "The door is closed. Would it be appropriate if I hugged my deputy?" he said with an uncertain smile on his face.

Grinning, Joyce came around his desk and slammed into him, her arms going around him and squeezing for all she was worth. "Not at all," she said. "Not at all. And thank you for standing up for me when that asshole assistant DA went after me, and well, all the rest you have done for me."

Tate smiled down at her. "Tell Jeff and the rest that I said hey and we'll see them soon."

-------

It took Joyce nearly thirty minutes to get out of the building. Everyone who saw her wanted to talk to her, even the old-timers who now treated her with respect.

As she got back in the SUV in the staff parking lot, (Diana had insisted that she take one of the Escalades because of the ice and snow on the mountain) a deputy passed in a patrol car and suddenly slammed on his brakes when he realized it was her. Ten minutes later, she was finally on her way back to the hospital, her mood lightened more than it had been since the shooting. Damn, I feel good,  she thought. I never expected to be treated so special. I hope Caitlin isn't mad at me for taking so long, though. Maybe things went as well for her as they did for me. A few minutes later, smiling, she turned into the hospital parking lot.

-------

Later, as the Escalade climbed the mountain, Joyce had just finished telling Caitlin about her visit to the department. "Now tell me what happened to you. I was worried that you would have been sitting there waiting for me to come back, and instead, I had to wait for you. So what happened?"

"Thank the Good Lord I called my nurse manager last night and told her I had gotten married and moved to Winter Park. She figured out what I was calling for and asked me if I was going to put in an application out here. She said she would give me an excellent reference."

"So," Joyce laughed, "you're telling me this was a little more than filling out a job application?"

"Oh, yeah. But keep in mind, this hospital isn't on the same scale my hospital is. I was interviewed and eventually hired by someone in Human Resources. Here, they have a Director of Personnel, which just one of her functions is to interview and hire. They don't even have a Human Resources department. Then when she read my application, she got the hospital Administrator to come in and talk to me. The Administrator. Heck, I've seen the one at my hospital a time or two, but he doesn't know me from Adam's goat.

"They've just lost the charge nurse for their intensive care unit here, and they don't have anyone qualified to take the job. None of their present employees have even applied for it."

"So you interviewed for the charge nurse position?"

"Yeah, I guess. I kept telling them I didn't know anything about their hospital policies, and a charge nurse should be thoroughly versed in them, but they kept saying they would help me. Crap, they're working with outdated equipment, but say they have bought some new things, and are going to buy more, but they want someone who has used more modern equipment to help them decide how to update. And trust me, just because something new comes out, doesn't mean it's better. Some things are; some things aren't.

"Take insulin syringes for instance. We got updated on those recently. Oh, it's much harder to accidentally stick yourself, but with the new ones, it's now difficult to see exactly how much insulin you've just given the patient — which is the whole point of the syringe. The dammed things are frustrating. The nurses raised so much hell that we got the older — and better — type back. But there are a lot of things like that. Some things are just much better for the patient, and for the nurse, than others. And, believe it or not, some of the better ones aren't the most expensive. But a purchasing agent ordering something because a rep recommends it, can cause a lot of problems with a nurse. And it's not just with the smaller things."

Caitlin was on a roll now, and Joyce was hard put not to giggle at her.

"Some idiot in purchasing bought new pain pumps for CICU. Only problem was they were so complicated that it took forever to get past all the safety mechanisms, codes, and other crap. Now, the pumps need to be secure, of course, otherwise, the patient, or more likely a family member, will steal the drug out of the unit, or program more for the patient, or something equally bizarre. But the bottom line is the nurse has to be able to get the machine set up so the patient can have pain medicine when he/she needs it. Some units do it and are more user-friendly than others.

"They want me to even help them decide on new intensive care beds. Some of them cost around sixty-five thousand dollars apiece. Some types work better than others. They're going to buy new patient monitors, and I'm not talking about TVs here," she grinned. "Again, there are systems that do a better job of monitoring the patient and at the same time, make life easier on the nurse. The Administrator said they had just received a donation for new equipment, but needed someone who had used more modern stuff to help them decide what was best..."

Joyce grinned over at her sister-wife as Caitlin's enthusiasm continued to build. "But you're scared shitless about the new job, right?"

"Absolutely," Caitlin said. "Absolutely." Shaking her head, she continued, "I expected to get a job without difficulty. I thought I might even luck up and apply when they needed someone in their intensive care unit. But I never expected this." Laughing aloud, "I might even like this job, and I guess the pay really doesn't matter. Heck, we didn't even discuss it. They asked if they could check out my references, mainly from my boss, and they're going to call me back in if I get a good reference. Man, am I glad I called my nurse manager," she said again.

Caitlin's grin changed into a smirk, but she sat quietly.

"Alright, out with it. What are you thinking?"

"Oh, I just remembered what Jeff said about salesmen who were too full of themselves to shut up once the sale was made. Just as I started to open my mouth to ask what the pay was, Jeff's comments crossed my mind. Better to shut up and let them make the offer. I've given my references and my qualifications. I'm way overqualified for the charge nurse job per se. They know it and I know it. But I'm what they need right now to expand their facilities and modernize. Time to button my lip. They need me, and they'll offer more to get me. Let them think about it. Thank you, Husband," she said, almost giggling.

Shortly, they met Dave in the snowplow truck, and waved as he pulled aside to let them by. Boy, those two look like they're in a good mood,  he thought as he waved back to the laughing women, then started the truck rolling again.



-------

Chapter 22


LATE MONDAY AFTERNOON — SEPTEMBER 30

Audrey waved to Rob as they passed through the lobby and out the door. Chatting as they walked down the lane, the two women met an older couple holding hands as they too strolled along.

"Hey, Audrey," the woman called out with a smile.

"Hi, Jan. Hi, Scotty."

They stopped to talk with the couple for a moment, then walked on. "They seem nice," Carla said when the older people were out of earshot.

"They are," Audrey replied. "They've been coming here since before my ex and I divorced. A lot of our campers are repeats who come back every year. There are several, like that retired couple, who come two or three times a year and stay for a month or more each time. They, like others, have become more than just casual acquaintances. And, of course, there's the full-time people who live here year-round over on the right side of the camp"

"We have some good friends, too," Carla said. "A group of them just helped us harvest our crop, and Jeff and his wives, with Fred and some more friends, just dug Jessica and me out of a big hole."

"Wives, as in plural?" Audrey asked, turning to her.

"Yeah," Carla grinned. "But hold off on any, uh ... opinions about that until later. We'll talk about it tonight. You might be surprised."

At Audrey's hesitant nod, Carla continued, "I need to call Jess and get the two of them started back," she finished as she took her cell out and dialed.

-------

Jeff sat relaxed in the colonel's office, a cup of strong coffee in his hand. Though the rank was there and observed, there was a little more, though. They had seen combat together, and there was an unspoken but very noticeable respect between the two.

"So, how many wives do you have now?" the colonel asked with a grin.

"Don't give me that shit," Jeff laughed. "You know exactly how many, since I've been careful to keep you posted on what's been happening to me, as ordered. And as you well know, I'm a victim of circumstances. I never meant for it to happen," he finished, trying to keep his face straight.

(Jeff's keeping them posted concerning his personal affairs was as minimal as he dared. His invention and its sale, the move to the retreat, that he had acquired women in his life who might have to be protected, etc. He has not told them anything about the Alphas, or said anything about the Healer, other than having her heal Diana's ankle two years ago. The general and the colonel think of the Healers as glorified first aid kits, at best.)

"Hmmm. 'A victim of circumstances.' I'll have to remember that the next time the general gets on my ass. I can just see it now: 'No General. The reason the mission went to shit wasn't my fault. I was just a victim of circumstances.'" Grinning, he continued, "I still don't see how you survive with all those women. If I had a bunch of wives, they would be fighting all the time. More power to you if it works, but damned if I know how you manage it."

"Actually, I guess that's Diana's job. But you're right. That would be one hell of a cat fight if they ever got started."

They chatted for some minutes, then, "Okay, what brings you out here? I can only remember a couple of times when you volunteered to visit with us."

"Well, I guess I need a favor?"

"Oh, shit. The general is going to love this. You! Asking for a favor? I remember what the last one cost you. I wonder what this one will?"

"Fuck, no. I don't owe him anything. I paid for the Healer, in spades, with a successful mission. He still owes me for the ship. If we're counting, I'm way ahead," he grinned. "Besides ... I suspect he'll want in on this without even thinking about paybacks."

"All right, lay it on me. He's already working late, anyway, so I might as well tell him tonight what you're here for."

"Generals don't work late," Jeff teased.

"This one does, and you know it. Now what the hell brings you out here? Want to go dimension hopping again? Collect a few more scars, maybe?"

"Hell, no," Jeff said as he locked eyes with the colonel. I've been through that portal enough times. They stared at each other for a minute, then Jeff sighed, "This will take a while to tell."

The colonel picked up the phone, waited a second for the sergeant to answer, then said, "Bring the pot in."

-------

Thirty minutes later, the coffee pot was empty and the two sat looking at each other. "If this weren't coming from you, I wouldn't believe it. How reliable is this woman? Do you have any idea?"

Thinking about the Healer transferring actual memories to him, Jeff chose his answer carefully, "I'm as near certain as I can be under the circumstances. I knew that she had left her husband, and he had told me generally what had been going on as far as the divorce was concerned. He mentioned several times about the abrupt change in her attitude, but I didn't think much of it at the time. I mean, her attitude would fit a lot of women who are getting divorced, but after she showed up sick, looking like she had ... well, she was extremely sick. I used the Healer the general assigned to me on her, without her knowledge of course, and she's okay health-wise now. But she's still messed up mentally."

"So yours is still working?" At Jeff's nod, the colonel went on. "Some of those things work, then for some reason they just quit. Others of them have never done a thing. You're lucky the general let you keep that one — and that it works. But I wouldn't count on it continuing to do so. Our scientists haven't had much luck with them. Maybe the fucking batteries run down or something. No one can get into one. They defy anything we've tried."

(The colonel's comments only go to show how little the scientists have learned about the Healers and the aliens' power systems — even Jeff's knowledge is little and sketchy. Little One's self-awareness and self-programming ability was rare even for Healers, since she was intended for use by an Alpha Prime, and responded as such to Jeff. Her difficulty interfacing with him, as an alien — for her — has resulted in an expansion of her capabilities beyond anything even dreamed of by her creators. In the beginning, he had only a feeling that the Healer was alive, then later a buzzing in his head when he wanted her to heal, then a general feeling of how the patient was doing. Later the communications became clearer, and continue to build as she rides his shoulders and interacts more and more with his family. At this point in the story, we know Little One is alive, and the product of alien engineering. She is becoming more a part of Jeff's family as her ability to understand non-telepathic minds expands.)

Jeff kept his face expressionless. "Well, this one seems to work, at least for now."

The colonel stood. "Have you eaten?"

Jeff shook his head.

"I'll have someone get you set up for the night, then why don't you get some chow while I run this by the general? I'll call you if you aren't back by the time I'm done. He's bound to want to see you."

-------

Later, Jeff and the colonel sat in the general's office. Jeff had gone into much greater detail with the general about the things he had learned from Jill's mind, but had still couched it as if Jill had told him everything he was relating.

"The colonel tells me you have reason to believe all this really happened just as you described it?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm almost certain it happened the way I related it to you. She seems to me to be telling the truth."

"You want to get Randolph's group in on this? They handle the domestic side, if I remember correctly," the colonel asked the general.

The general sat lost in thought for a moment. "No ... no, I don't think so." He had been sitting with his feet propped on his desk, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. Staring at Jeff for a moment longer, he turned his head slightly to lock eyes with the colonel.

"What's the name of those two people we got from the FBI a couple years ago?"

"Uh, Davis and Cochran, as best I remember, Sir."

"Surely, they know how to interview a rape victim. I think we'll handle this doctor ourselves. Let's get the two ex-FBI people to talk to this woman. Have them present themselves as FBI — along with the proper IDs and technology, of course — and verify her story. No fucking way I'm letting that doctor get away from me. Let alone his lab. If they're already shipping this drug to Iran with the slaves, and if the government there hears of it, then 9/11 will seem like a walk in the park. From what this woman says, the good doctor is still working to make his drugs better. Yeah ... Doctor Ingles is going to have a little "accident" and disappear.

The general looked back at Jeff. "So you've already promised her husband, this ... pilot, that he could go on the mission..."

"Yes, Sir, I did. He used to be an F14 pilot, and now flies for Wainwright, Inc. In addition to being a good friend, he's a good man and intelligent. I've already told him he couldn't go armed, and would have little to do with what's going to happen, but shit, General, this doctor kept Bill's wife as a sex slave for a year. I'll be responsible for Bill, and who knows, he might just be of help to us." Jeff stopped just short of saying that if Bill didn't go, he wouldn't either, for he knew better than to give the general an ultimatum.

The general, on the other hand, remembered the last time he and Major Matthews had a "disagreement." Matthews had leaned across the desk and gotten in his face. All he could seem to see was Matthews' eyes. Hell, I was just fucking with Matthews. I had already promised him that Healer — not that they're worth a shit most of the time... 

The general continued to rationalize his own behavior away, but truth be told he had run into a fledgling Alpha Prime that day and came out on the short end of the stick. Jeff was much stronger now, but the general didn't know it, and it didn't matter since he was subconsciously avoiding conflict with Jeff, something else that little set-to had accomplished, although neither of them actually realized it.

The general cleared his throat as he slipped his feet off his desk and leaned forward in the comfortable chair. "Get that pilot in here. I'm not going to let him go with you unless we put in some blocks to keep him from talking about this place or the raid. You can do that on the day of the mission. Won't take long."

"Yes, Sir," Jeff said.

-------

A couple of minutes later in the colonel's office, "You're not heading back tonight, right?"

"No, Sir. If it's okay with you, I'll start back first thing in the morning. I'm bushed."

"Alright. This may take a few days to set up, but the general wants it done as soon as possible, and you know what that means — yesterday," he finished with a sick look on his face.

"Sorry, Sir," Jeff said as he stood.

A moment later, Jeff walked by the sergeant's desk as he snatched up his phone by the time its buzz had barely started. "Yes, Sir," he said after listening a moment, then after returning the phone to its cradle, he turned to the others in the office and said sharply, "We're working late — real late. We have a mission."

-------

Later, as Jeff laid waiting for sleep, This is the first night I've spent without my wives in a while. Well other than the night Joyce was shot, and even then, I spent some time with them before it happened. To say the least, being here by myself feels different. Shit, I should have left the sat phone out for Diana,  he suddenly thought. I could have called her on the encrypted unit. She's going to give me hell when she finds out I could have called her.

His mind drifted for a time, then, I hate that Bill will have to go through the block routine, but the machine only takes thirty minutes, and if I have to for some reason, I can always have Little One remove the blocks later. Bill will honor a pledge to keep quiet about this place, anyway. To bad Little One couldn't remove Ingles' compulsions as easily as she can the block to not talk about this place. The block is crude — according to her — but Ingles' compulsions are interwoven around many thoughts and memories.

I hope that Bill's calling Jill will continue to override Ingles' tampering. She's following Bill around like a pup right now, and she's darned lucky to be married to a person like him. Some guys would never have taken her back, regardless of whether she had any control over what she did with those men or not.

Shit, I hope I'm doing the right thing by getting the general involved in this. But the cat was out of the bag when Ingles sold those drugs to that bunch of shitheads. We can't risk the mullahs learning of it. Maybe he didn't give them much of it and they'll run out of it before they analyze it. Crap, that's another reason this mission should go down as quickly as possible. I didn't turn this over to the FBI or Homeland Security because I was afraid the politicians and lawyers would get involved, and by the time the FBI got through fucking around and did manage to start making arrests,  some foreign government, or even Al Qaeda, would have the stuff. I'm sure the general has his own agenda, but he's the lesser of two evils. I know he wants this drug, but I have no way to stop someone from getting it. Better him than them.

Crap, I miss Little One, too, but there was too much chance of losing her to the general if I brought her with me. Better out of sight and out of mind.

Sleep finally overtook him.

-------

When Fred walked in the doorway of the RV, it was obvious Jessica had told him that Audrey would be there. Fred put his grocery sacks on the counter and moved aside so Jessica could put hers beside them.

"Hey, Audrey. I hope you like steak because we found some nice-looking ones and bought enough to fill the freezer," he said as he turned to her.

"I love a good steak, but I hope you don't mind my horning in," Audrey said, feeling a little ill at ease, as she stood next to Carla, looking up at the big man.

"Mind?" Fred chuckled. "Now I've never been accused of being smart," he lied, "but I'm not dumb enough to object to eating supper with three beautiful women."

"You've got the boy trained," Audrey said to Carla.

"Nope, not quite, but we're working on it," Carla laughed.

"Of course, it could be debated that he's training us," Jessica said as she pulled Fred's head down to push her mouth hard against his for a few seconds, his face gaining color as she shoved her tongue into his mouth.

Fred's eyes caught Audrey's sparkling ones as Jessica broke the kiss. "Well, I, uh, guess I need to get the charcoal going," he mumbled as he headed for the door.

When Fred was outside, "He is so cute," Audrey said stifling a giggle.

"Don't let him hear you say that," Carla laughed. "He would just die."

"Oh, I know, but he is."

Carla grabbed the woman and hugged her. "We're going to get along fine — just fine." Then turning back to the counter, she motioned to the grocery sacks, "So you got us steak, and what else?" she asked Jessica."

"Well, we already had potatoes, but I picked up a big frozen peach cobbler that Fred said he likes, and I do too..."

"What's not to like about a peach cobbler?" Audrey inserted.

Jessica turned to her mother. "In the context of killing time until you called, I got another small bag of potatoes, then went around the store picking up things that I thought we might need on the trip, just really taking my time. But he figured it out right away and suggested we go buy ice cream cones. He found this little park where we sat to eat them and talk until you called."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Carla answered as she washed four potatoes before wrapping them in foil to be cooked on the grill.

"What did he figure out?" Audrey asked. "I know it's something to do with me, but why are you making such a big thing out of my eating with you? What's going on?"

Carla sighed. "Nothing. Nothing that would make any sense to anyone other than me. Well, any sense to anyone around here," she corrected as she thought about Diana and her lectures about the Queen Bitch syndrome.

"I don't understand," Audrey said.

"We want you to like our man," Jessica inserted. "We know he already likes you."

Audrey sat on one of the bar stools and stared at the two women. "I ... uh, I'm beginning to think you're not kidding about this. Look, Carla, I think you've gotten the wrong impression about me. I'm not into..."

"Who says we're into anything?" Carla interrupted as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel and handed the potatoes to Jessica who headed out the door without saying anything.

"Want some coffee? We never did finish ours at your apartment?" but she was already starting the coffee maker and putting out cups for each of them. "We need to talk," she said a few minutes later as she slid onto a barstool beside Audrey to wait for the coffee to make.

-------

"The farm sounds like a good life — well it was until your husband died," Audrey said as Carla finished the story up to the point of Sam's death and the subsequent problems with the bank and hospital. Moved by the story and the shine of tears in Carla's eyes, Audrey leaned over to squeeze her new friend's hand for a moment.

"I don't know what to say. Heck, I thought I had it bad with being divorced and the last few years of trying to expand this place, but..."

Carla grabbed a paper towel and wiped her eyes, able to produce only a sick laugh. "All that is past now, but I still dream of Sam. He was truly a great guy. We loved each other more than you can believe. But that's all behind me now," she said as she took a deep breath. "Jessica and I have Fred, and he's a great guy, too. We have a new, wonderful life."

Carla's face changed to a mischievous smile, "I've never seen anyone Fred's age who could blush. Diana says it's a trait of the Alphas, or maybe something else thrown in as well. Who knows, but I love it. I can't imagine a big-time detective who would get embarrassed when we tease him, but he does. But trust me, he's no jolly green giant. He's lethal when he needs to be. Diana has told me some stories about him."

"This Diana I keep hearing you refer to, what about her?"

"Oh, we'll get around to more about ourselves tonight, and we'll talk about her, too. But for now, let's just say she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and every bit as smart as she is beautiful. But let's get the steaks out to Fred. I know the charcoal has to be ready by now. He probably realized that we're talking, and didn't want to break in."

-------

They had cooked their meal and eaten, following it with a dessert of peach cobbler with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. After cleaning up, the women went for a walk around the camp where Audrey introduced Carla and Jessica to everyone who was outside at the time.

When they got back, Fred brought out a camp percolator that he and Brenda used when they had gone tent camping. "Don't have to change the filter in this one," he laughed as he hung the readied pot over the fire.

Later, they sat drinking perked coffee, and roasting marshmallows over the coals as Carla and Jessica finished the story of the last few years on the farm.

"So Fred and this mysterious Jeff you keep mentioning somehow changed the banker's and real estate agent's minds, and this was just a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, we've only known Fred a few weeks, but it seems like ... well we fell in love with our Fred," she finished looking up at him. "But yeah, Fred and Jeff changed the minds of those two all right," Jessica said sniggering. Then she and her mother told about the stump episode.

"But how did you find out about what the cops did?" Audrey managed past the giggles when the story was done.

"Oh, one of Jeff's wives is a deputy," Fred said. "The Winter Park cops told her and every other cop they met, probably, how the two 'rip-off tycoons' had showed up in Winter Park with their peters tied together with a red scarf and their hands bound, but not really bound behind them. Joyce wasn't part of the family then, and didn't know how they got tied up until she became one of Jeff's wives. Of course, the cops thought the two had done it to themselves, and well, the two bad boys surely weren't going to tell about going out to the farm and sneaking through the woods with a can full of gas to burn Carla and Jessica's house. Let alone about meeting two guys in the darkness who had tied them to the stump, and all the rest."

"The next day, the banker and real estate agent were gone," Carla broke in, "but Jeff's attorney, well, our attorney now, has sued the bank and real estate chain, not to mention the hospital. The bank has already offered to settle, but our attorney just laughed at the amount, and told them he would see them in court. He told us they would get serious with negotiations before the court date, otherwise they damn sure would in court." Carla let out a sigh, "If we do get any money out of any of this, we'll use it to pay Jeff and Diana back."

"Lots of luck on that one," Fred said. "I can just see those two taking your money after all that's happened — not," he laughed as he grinned at Jessica who liked to hang a not on her sentences.

Jessica stuck her tongue out at him, and he mimicked sucking it.

"And those two guys who met the banker and his associate in the woods couldn't have been you and this Jeff person could they?" Audrey teased, knowing that Fred and the women knew too many of the details for it not to have been.

Everybody laughed.

Carla swatted at a mosquito for the third time in as many minutes. "Our fire has gone down too much to produce enough smoke to keep the insects away. Why don't we move this inside?" she said as she stood.

Fred put out the campfire and cleaned the grill while the women gathered up everything and put the dishes in the washer. Fred had gone to use the restroom and was just leaving the RV as Audrey stepped back inside. She had partially turned to answer something Jessica asked, who was following her in, when Audrey and Fred almost collided.

Fred reached to catch her in the last second before they hit. They stood looking at each other, their faces only inches apart.

"Kiss her, Dummy," from Brenda.

Wanting to anyway, and knowing that Carla and Jessica were trying to push them together, he put his arms around Audrey and gently touched his lips to hers. She stood still at first, not resisting, but not participating, either.

"Give him a chance, Audrey," Jessica said as she squeezed by in the doorway. "You might like it more than you can imagine."

Audrey's mind was in turmoil. I want to kiss him, but he belongs to my two new friends. I don't want them mad at me. But they have contrived to have me sit beside him all night. One of them was always on the other side of him, but there was always a vacant place beside him for me to fill. Oh, hell, screw it. If they didn't want me to, they would have said something by now, and Jessica just told me to kiss him.

Audrey reached up with both hands and locked them around Fred's neck, pulling the two of them tighter together. Her lips parted as Fred teased her by touching hers gently with this tongue. Before she even realized what she was doing, they were tasting each other.

Her world faded away as a feeling of this being right, of ... being home, surrounded her so completely she lost track of time, or where she was, for that matter. This very virile man, his hard-muscled arms tight about her, made everything else go away.

"You're going to get a crick in your neck trying to stand and kiss him like that," Carla said, her voice radiating pleasure. "Fred, put her on the couch and kiss the woman. She's only had two dates in the last four years, and they didn't even get to first base. She's been waiting for you and didn't even know it."

Audrey heard the words, though they meant little to her faltering mind at the moment, but when Fred effortlessly lifted her into his arms, her only resistance was a chopped-off squeal. A few steps later, he sat on the couch with her still in his arms, and resumed the kiss.

She pushed back for a second to adjust herself and put one arm behind him so she could snuggle her breasts into his chest, then continued the kiss. Her nipples were swollen and pushing uncomfortably against her bra, and some part of her mind worried that he would smell her, for her panties were already wet.

A little later, Audrey sat on the couch tucked under Fred's right arm as Jessica brought ice-filled glasses to put on the coffee table in front of them. Then after taking orders from everyone, she returned with their beverages.

I feel as if my throat is parched,  Audrey thought as she took a long drink of her Doctor Pepper. "Oh, that tastes so good. Uh, how long did we, uh..." she stammered to a halt.

"About fifteen minutes," Carla said. Then chuckling, "How do you like our man now?"

"Listen, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me..."

"Hush," from both women.

"We set you up for it, so don't get back in the apology groove," Carla answered as she picked up the two liter bottle of Doctor Pepper and refilled Audrey's glass before reseating herself.

"Set me up for it?" Audrey asked with a frown.

"Sure. We knew that the two of you liked each other, so we finally managed to maneuver you into his personal space. Fred knows we like you, too, so with your mutual attraction — plus a few pheromones — it had to happen sooner or later. We were pushing for sooner," Jessica said with a big grin on her face.

"Well, I guess I knew that. I just couldn't believe it," Audrey said as she turned her head slightly to look at Fred. "But I'm so embarrassed. I mean we're talking as if this great guy isn't even in the room."

Fred chuckled and squeezed her to him for a second. "One of the first things I learned when I got married to Brenda was there was some times when a man should just hush and listen."

Carla plopped down on the couch on the other side of Fred. Pulling his face to hers, she tenderly kissed him. "Diana said I would be your Queen," Carla quietly said. "She said I would feel it when it happened. I've been feeling something a little bit for a couple of weeks." Stopping to think for a second, she continued, "I guess it started when Jessica and I decided to share you, but then when I thought about how you and Audrey looked when you were talking to each other, not to say anything about the body language that was even more evident, I noticed the feeling becoming stronger."

Reaching across to grasp Audrey's hand, "I want us to all be together. It feels right, and not just with me, Jessica feels the same," she finished as she turned to her daughter.

"She's right, Audrey," Jessica said as she knelt in front of the seated woman. Taking her other hand, she said, "Mom and I discussed it, and yeah, we included Fred, too," she giggled. "We all want you, and I think you can tell that our man does after the way he kissed you."

"But ... but, I can't. I mean, I ... Oh, shit, I don't know what I mean," Audrey sighed. "I'm all mixed up. This is too fast."

Fred turned her face to his and kissed her; no tongue, just a long gentle kiss. "I love you," he whispered as their lips parted.

Audrey shivered. "How can..."

Carla broke in. "I told you a little about Alphas — enhanced Alphas — as Diana calls them after something that Jeff does to them. I don't know and, well, we can't talk about that until you are actually one of us. And truth be told, we know little about it anyway. But we do know that Alphas fall in love quickly when they meet a certain woman. The woman does, too. Diana says that we're 'conditioned' to thinking that falling in love takes time, and I suppose it does for most people. But sometimes it happens quickly with normal people like it did with Sam and me.

"She says that with an enhanced Alpha, it's almost always very quick. But the conditioning that society has instilled in us all makes it seem wrong, when it's really the most natural thing in the world. Please, just try to go by your heart, not what seems logical, or illogical, as the case may be."

Fred kissed Audrey's forehead, then tucked her head against his shoulder for a moment. Jessica rubbed her arm, lovingly.

"How do you feel when Fred holds you? How about when he kisses you? I don't mean the sexual aspect of it, and Lord knows there's enough of that," Carla giggled, "but what else do you feel?"

Audrey stared at Carla for a moment. "It sounds silly, but ... I feel as if I've come..."

"Home?" Carla supplied.

"Yes," Audrey quickly agreed. "But it can't be. I mean I've known you people for little more than twenty-four hours. How..."

Then reading Carla's face as she started to say it, Audrey and Carla both started with, "Diana..."

Carla laughed, but quickly sobering, said, "Yep. She said the first time Jeff kissed her, she felt like she had come home. Of course, a few minutes later she was in the backseat of his car and well on her way to being pregnant at thirteen. But she says she still feels that way when she kisses him, but says it's a trait of the Alphas. We feel secure, cherished and loved. Like coming home."

"Like coming home," Audrey repeated. Then looking up at Fred, "Like coming home."



-------

Chapter 23


..."Like coming home," Audrey repeated. Then looking up at Fred, "Like coming home."

They sat and talked about things in general for a few minutes, then Carla squeezed Audrey's hand for a moment. "Please stay with us tonight. Do you work tomorrow?"

"Uh, no. Rob is insisting on covering for me for a while to make up for all the time I worked for him. I wouldn't let him when he offered repeated in the past. Well, you see, his wife's sister lives in Chicago. A couple of years ago, she had to have a double mastectomy because of cancer. She lives alone. Rob and Nicole stayed with her for a month until she got back on her feet, then went back later for another three weeks when she had reconstructive surgery.

"I feel guilty about letting him work my shifts in compensations for my doing that for him, but he is insistent. He and his son have spent the last two summers pouring pads and running water and power to update our camp — not to say anything about all the other work the two of them have done. We've paid his son, of course, but Rob has been a great partner. Without him, the camp would not have made nearly the money it has.

"I worked the desk straight through my days and his so that he could do the construction, but even so, I feel like I owe him, instead of the other way around. I feel badly about not being able to keep Kenneth, Rob's son, on. He graduated from high school this spring and worked through the summer with us, but now that the construction is about over, we just don't have a reason to keep him on the payroll.

"Jobs are scarce around here. There isn't any industry. All he's managed to find is an occasional day here and there at Callaway, plus working two shifts a week at a convenience store. He's a smart kid, though, and can do anything with his hands. Rob taught him to pour concrete for the pads, run the wiring and lay the pipes. Restrictions are less here than in the big cities. We have an electrician and a plumber come in and certify the job before the inspection, but Rob and Kenneth do most of the work. He has a nice girlfriend and they want to get married, but he needs a job first."

"Okay," Carla said as she stood. "Fred gets his shower first. And remember, Big Man," she said as she grinned at him, "that water heater might be a quick recovery model, but it's still small. If you use up all the hot water, you're going to be in trouble."

Audrey, still sitting tucked under Fred's arm as they sat on the couch, said, "But I'm only a few hundred yards from my apartment. I can just go home..."

Carla leaned over, lifted Audrey's chin up a little with a fingertip, then touched her lips to Audrey's for an instant. Pulling back a few inches, their eyes locked as Carla smiled at the brunette, "You're our special friend. All of us want you to sleep here tonight. Please stay."

Audrey sighed. "I'm confused by all this, but ... I want to stay, and there's no real reason why I can't, since Rob is working for me. He kidded me that I could sleep as late as I wanted ... I'll stay."

"Good," mother, daughter and Alpha chorused.

Carla grabbed Fred's hand. "Come on, get that big butt up. I've changed my mind. I'll shower with you." Then to the others, "We'll be back in a few minutes."

"Good, Audrey and I can have a talk while you two are gone. I'll tell her all about your ax murders," Jessica joked as she sat down beside the camp manager on the couch.

-------

A few moments later, Carla and Fred stood whispering in the bedroom. "Look, Baby," Fred said, "are you sure about this? I can't just turn my feelings on and off. When I kissed her, something happened, just like it did with you two. I don't even know if I could stop now, but I'll try if you say so. But don't come back in a couple of days and say it was a mistake. Ever since Jeff did whatever he did to us, I feel ... different. And I'm not just talking about good health, either."

Carla pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. "Jessica and I have talked about this. Diana told us when everyone was working on the farm, that it would happen sooner or later. She reminded us again before we left on the trip. I'm going to call her in a few minutes. I need to ask her some things."

"What do you need to ask her?" Fred questioned, a look of concern on his face.

"Oh, nothing of any import," Carla quickly answered. "We just need to talk about some girl things. Some things have happened that ... well, I would like her advice."

"You're not talking about what happened last night?" Fred asked, knowing that she was probably referring to something else, but still a little worried, anyway.

"No, it's something different. I'll tell you about it, but I prefer to wait until after I have asked Diana, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," Fred said as he hugged her for a second. "I was just concerned that I had done something that had stressed you. Well, last night..."

Carla giggled. "No, silly. You did everything right last night. Now we need to get that shower so Jessica and Audrey can, too."

As Fred turned toward the shower, "Wait." Carla opened one of his drawers. "Here, put this on. I almost forgot," she said, holding out a nearly new white tee-shirt.

When Fred looked at her, a slight frown forming on his face, she quickly continued, "Just slip it on for a moment. Then I'll fold it up and give it to Audrey to sleep in."

"Baby, it will..." Fred said, as he slipped the shirt over his head, anyway.

"Yep. It will smell faintly of you and your cologne. Might even have a few pheromones if I do this," she said with a grin as she trapped the shirt tight against his underarms for a moment. "Okay, give it back to me."

"Baby, that seems a little gross. It might smell of sweat," he said as he pulled the shirt back over his head.

"Nonsense. You've been sitting in there with the air conditioner running, and besides, you only had the shirt on for a few seconds. I just want enough of your pheromones in it to keep her a little more aware of you when she goes to sleep."

"This all seems a little cold-blooded," Fred said, concerned.

"Nonsense. She'll sleep better with a faint smell of you near her. You would have to be a woman to understand. I'll give her the shirt, then, so she'll have something to wear for bed."

Jessica walked into the bedroom, opened a drawer, took out a pair of panties, grinned at them and left the room.

In the living room a moment later, "Here," she said to Audrey. "These are brand-new. I've washed them, but I've never worn them. You're on your own about a fresh bra for tomorrow morning, though. Mom and I don't wear one around the house, and we won't have one on first thing in the morning. Besides, I know that Fred would like to see you braless, but that's up to you."

Audrey smiled a tentative smile back at her. "I might just do that," she answered, but the blush began to creep onto her face anyway.

-------

A few minutes after everyone had showered, Fred stood in the doorway of the bedroom and called out to Audrey, "Are you dressed? Can I come through?"

Audrey, already in bed, told him to come on, but he didn't pass through to the galley as she expected. Walking over, he sat on the side of her bed. In the soft light that spilled in from the bedroom, he leaned over and gently pressed his lips to hers. She sighed and locked her arms around him to pull him close.

After a few seconds, she broke the kiss. "Carla keeps telling me that you are an Alpha, and that things happen quickly with Alphas. I'm feeling things that I've never felt before. Please don't hurt me. I've been hurt once when I trusted a man. He told me he would be there forever, but as soon as the newness wore off, he changed..."

Fred sighed and sat back up a little, but reached for her hand to hold. "I was married for a long time. She had a massive heart attack and died. And yeah, we argued from time to time, but our love never faltered. It's still there, heck, maybe even stronger than ever..."

"It is," Brenda agreed in his mind.

Audrey jerked a little, breaking their contact. Sitting up she flipped the light on, looking around wildly. "Who was that?" she asked, her voice quiet, but tinged with alarm.

"Oh, shit," Fred said. "I never thought..."

"Me, either," Brenda said in his mind.

"Oh, shit," Fred said again. "I didn't want this to go down like this. I never thought about your being able to hear her." Turning toward the bedroom doorway, he raised his voice enough to be heard. "Carla, Jessica. I need you two out here right now."

Fred, worried, had overemphasized the urgency when he stressed the now. Both women came out of the bedroom at a near run, considering the cramped circumstances of the RV.

"What's wrong?" Carla and Jessica voiced in almost perfect synchronization as they slammed to a stop at the bed.

"Touch both of them!" Brenda ordered Fred.

Fred grabbed the hands of both women.

"I fucked up and said something to Fred while he was touching Audrey. I never expected her to hear me, but she did. She's not going to take well to her new lover having a ghost in his head, particularly a dead wife," Brenda told them.

"What's going on?" Audrey asked as she watched strange expressions chase themselves across the faces of her new friends. "Is there someone else here? I know I heard someone."

"Touch her," Brenda instructed. "We might as well get the disbelief stage over with. Touch her."

Knowing there had to be a better way, but not being able to think of it at the moment, Fred grasped Audrey's hand.

"I'm Fred's dead wife, Brenda. And trust me, if you think hearing me is strange, you should be on my end of it."

Audrey stared at Fred, her eyes opening wider and wider. Finally, they rolled back in her head and she fainted.

Since Jessica and Carla were touching Fred, they had heard Brenda, too. "Well, that went well..." Jessica started.

Before she could finish with her "not" that she had picked up from Jeff's young wives, Fred groused, "I don't want to hear it."

Carla frowned at him. "Unless...  you want to be cut off after one night of pussy, you better start groveling. Just because you're upset, doesn't mean we can't joke a little."

"Fred, dammit, now isn't the time to start pissing off your women," Brenda joined in.

Fred grabbed Jessica and hugged her. "I'm sorry. Hell, it was a perfect time for a little joke. And now it's funny. I just fucked up."

Jessica quickly kissed him. "I'll make you pay later. Right now, what are we going to do about her?"

"Dammed if I know," Fred sighed.

"Simple," Carla laughed. "You lie beside her and take her in your arms. I'll get her something to drink. I guess now would be the time for something stronger than wine, but that's all we have."

Fred positioned himself beside her and pulled Audrey into his arms. By then Carla was back with a glass and a partially full bottle of wine. "Here, Baby. Drink a little of this," she said as Audrey's eyes opened and she looked around her.

"Just hold her while she drinks her wine. Let Brenda explain it to her."

Fred nodded absently.

The coffee maker had been turned off, but there were a couple of cups left in it. Carla got a big mug, filled it and put it in the microwave to heat. When it was ready, she made sure her cell was in her pocket, picked up the mug of hot coffee, a can of bug spray and the blanket they had been using by the campfire. "I'm going to sit outside and talk to Diana," she told the others.

"Okay, Mom," Jessica replied from the bed where she and Fred had bracketed Audrey. Audrey was snuggled in Fred's arms while Jessica lay beside her holding her hand. Audrey's face took on a look of awe for the moment as she listened to the woman in Fred's mind. Smiling at her expanding family, Carla turned and went outside.

Walking a short distance away, she chose a big tree and spread her blanket. She heard the whine of a mosquito almost immediately, but took care of the irritant by spraying herself and the blanket liberally with insect repellant. Crap, now I'm going to have to shower again to get rid of the smell from the spray. Sitting down and propping her back against the tree, she looked around her as she allowed her mind to settle.

So much has happened in the last month: Almost losing the farm, the Matthews and Fred seeming to almost appear out of nowhere to help, not to mention Frank Wainwright and Margaret, or Dave and Evie. Then that Sunday at the church, Fred got all the others lined up to help with the harvest. Instead of leaving everything in the fields, and Jessica and I having to move to a ratty little apartment in the city, my farm is paid off, all my new silos are full, I have a giant new barn that is state of the art, plus a riding stable. We have our horses back.

I look years younger, I have an Alpha for a ... mate, I guess Diana would say, and one day he might even marry us both. Well, now that might be all three of us, if things keep on the way they seem to be going with Audrey. But something is happening to me ... well, maybe to both Jessica and me to be more exact. But I think it's also true of Diana and her sister-wives, but I don't know for sure. Dare I ask? She said I could always ask anything. She says Jeff is a Prime. If he's a Prime, then she's the Queen Bitch of a Prime, so she should be the one for me to ask, since I'm now a Queen according to her.

"Matthews' residence. Ann speaking."

"Hi, Ann. Uh, I know it's getting late, but could I speak to Diana?"

"It's not late," Ann quickly answered, "it's only nine. But, oh ... you're in the Eastern Time Zone now, so I guess it is late with you." After demanding to know how their trip was going and a couple more things, "Hang on; I'll get Diana for you."

The phone went dead for a moment, then Diana came on the line. After chatting for a few minutes, Diana said, "Okay, I know something is up by the tone of your voice, so what's wrong?" Diana didn't ask about money because she had double-checked with the accountant and knew they had access to plenty for their trip.

"Uh, Diana, I hate to..."

"Now what's the matter with you?" Diana interrupted. "Jeff is gone for the night. My sister-wives are all working on a project; I'm bored and sitting in our bedroom with my feet propped up on an ottoman, reading a romance novel, of all things. The heroine's so-called romance is pitiful in comparison with living with an Alpha, so the story is less than thrilling. In addition, you're family. Now what's wrong?"

Tears filled Carla's eyes with the intensity of Diana's words. "Uh..." Carla cleared the lump in her throat and continued, her voice quiet in the near darkness of the camp, an occasional security light and the moonlight filtering through the trees, the only exception to total darkness. "Jessica and I were taking a shower together just to expedite things time-wise. We do it at home. And, well, for the last weeks, I've been more ... aware of my daughter, and I think she's the same way. Diana, I've never thought of a woman sexually before, but well, it started out accidentally, but ... Jessica wound up nursing my breasts and I did hers as well. We had tremendous orgasms..."

Carla took a breath and waited, but there was no response from the phone. "Uh ... that's not all, we met the woman who owns the camp. She's really pretty, and Fred likes her. I went to visit in her apartment and to invite her to come down and eat with us tonight, and I ... uh, thought ... well, I saw her ... in a different light than I ever have another woman before. Uh, except for my feelings that seem to have started toward my daughter, lately. Oh, shit, Diana, I'm all mixed up. Am I becoming a lesbian? Bi? What the crap is the matter with me? I kissed Audrey on the mouth a few minutes ago. Oh, just a peck, but it was her mouth, and I did it without thinking — like it was the most normal thing in the world."

"And what were the circumstances? I have the feeling you aren't telling me everything?" Diana came back.

Carla quietly sighed. Talking to Diana isn't like talking to anyone else. It feels as though she's sitting right here beside me and can see into my soul. "Uh, we were going to put off telling her about Brenda until we knew Audrey better, and more appropriately, I guess, she knew us better. Can't just tell someone you barely know, that Fred has the ghost of his dead wife running around in his head, you know," she giggled quietly.

"Well, no, " Diana responded, "I guess not," she chuckled.

"Oh, there's something else about Brenda that I haven't told you. Jessica and I can both hear her now if we're touching Fred."

There was quiet again from the other end of the phone connection.

"Look, Diana. This isn't an imagined thing. We're not trying to just make Fred believe we hear her. We carry on conversations with her. This is a done-deal — real."

"Wow," Diana quietly said. "I can't wait to tell Jeff."

"Well, anyway, Fred had gone in to tell Audrey good night, and he touched her just as Brenda said something to him. It scared the shit out of Audrey and she fainted. Jessica, Fred and Audrey are all in there now, all touching so Brenda can talk to Audrey, and so they can all hear Brenda at the same time."

"Hmmm," Diana said. But instead of making a comment about Brenda, she chose another subject for the moment, "So, since by the way you mentioned Fred going in to tell her good night, I assume that Audrey's there in bed. With you, or in another room?"

"The couch makes up into a bed. She's there."

"So, has Fred called her for his mate?"

"I don't think so. I mean, I don't know. I know you and I discussed this on the phone. I don't think he has, even if he knows how, which I doubt since he hasn't mentioned it, but I do know he dumped a bunch of pheromones when he went into that office with her yesterday. I could feel them still on him when he got back into the RV afterward."

"But Fred likes her, and I'm assuming, not just for a fuck?"

"Fred? A fuck? You've got to be kidding. Jessica and I finally managed to get him to make love to us last night. I don't think there's any such thing as a casual fuck to Fred."

"In that case, I can just about guarantee that she'll be his before long. The pheromones and love will call her over time just as well as Fred deliberately doing it. And remember, things happen quickly with Alphas. If you are having second thoughts, there's going to be a problem, because I suspect Audrey's far beyond turning back, already."

"I think we're all past that — way past," Carla whispered.

"Good," Diana responded brightly. "An Alpha needs several wives, and each enhances the Queen's position. Now back to your worries about becoming queer," she deliberately responded very bluntly.

"I'm not..." Carla began indignantly.

Diana chuckled and interrupted with, "Exactly. Now that we've established that, let me tell you some things about Alphas' wives, and their sister-wives. First off, we're involved with — and that term is only a very shallow approximation of what I'm trying to describe — but we are involved with an Alpha. An Alpha who ties us to him with pheromones, to only name one of the ways. These pheromones and the Alpha's mental contact with his females, in addition to something else which I'm not at liberty to talk about," she said, meaning, of course, Little One, "trigger several things in the Alpha's females. One of which is a type of pheromone of their own. This pheromone and other things, tend to bind the Queen's females to each of her sister-wives. Although a Queen, and you in this case, has absolutely no interest in females in general, and might even be repulsed about making love to a female outside of her sister-wives, but your response and involvement with those sister-wives are quite different. And just because you haven't officially — if you can call our marriages official — married Fred yet, makes no difference at all to this. You are his, and he is yours."

There was a small chuckle from the other end of the line before Diana continued, "I didn't have anyone to talk to about this in the beginning when I started having feelings toward my first sister-wife, who, just incidentally, was also my daughter. I can literally say, 'been there; done that.' But I have a source now that you don't — but I didn't then, either. I went through some soul searching, just as apparently you are. But you haven't changed toward other females, just toward your sister-wives, or a potential sister-wife, as the case may be here. But I suspect that if someone like you, with no sexual interest in women before, is having feelings toward her, it's a done-deal already — for all four of you."

Carla sat thinking for a while, and oddly, or maybe not so oddly, Diana did not interrupt her. Finally, Carla quietly said, "I'm going to ask her to go with us on the trip. I've already talked to Jessica about it, and she's all for it. I haven't discussed it with Fred, yet, but he's essentially told me he can't back away even now. I'm sure Audrey's partner at the camp will take care of things for awhile. I've never really thought this through, though, I've just..."

"Followed your heart," Diana supplied. "You're taking care of your Alpha. When you realized that he responded to another female, instead of being jealous, you helped pave the way for her. I suspect that your pheromones are smoothing the way almost as much as his. I think they're one of the major reasons that Alphas' wives get along so well. Alphas have a mental ability to assure this, but I think that sister-wives in general, and Queens in particular, have their own pheromones which also contribute. And it's both ways. Something makes us Queens care very much for the happiness of our sister-wives, as well. And with that bond comes the responsibility of the Queen. There's something else that seems to come with being a Queen; although, it can happen in other ways, too, but I'm not going to tell you about that right now. (Diana was referring to the Queens lactating.) We'll see if it affects you the same way," she finished mysteriously.

"I hope I'm doing the right thing, but it feels right."

"Then it is. Just trust your heart. Your Alpha will take care of the rest. Oh, and Carla, I don't want this to come across as crude, but I don't know any other way to say it. If your new sister-wife-to-be has obligations at this camp, we can always just buy it, or pay her debts off. I, as Jeff says, feel strongly about this. We'll do whatever it takes to make her obligations go away, if she has any. Remember, you're family. Jeff and I take that very seriously, indeed."

There was a lump in Carla's throat that prevented her from speaking for a moment. Finally, "I, uh, don't know how much the park owes, if anything. But she has said that it is doing well. She said that they expected their summer season to be way down because of fuel prices for the RVs, but instead, this summer was the best one they had ever had, and since they had expanded their camp, it was even better. Audrey said she figured they had so many campers, in part, due to the distance the camp is from Atlanta. Far enough away to seem like a vacation, but not far enough away to use up a lot of fuel to get here.

"But she said she owned fifty-one percent of the camp and that her partner had been wanting to buy her out. Might work out that way. I don't know much more than that."

"Okay," Diana said, "but remember what I said. If she has money problems, consider them fixed. Heck, if we buy the place, it will probably make money anyway, considering the things that have happened to us lately. Now go talk Audrey into going with you, and call me soon."

They chatted for a few minutes before Carla thanked her and hung up. After picking up her things, smiling, the new Queen went back inside the RV to check on her brood.

As Carla stepped back into the RV, she noted the lights had been turned back up, but with the light screens on the windows, there had been no light leaks showing outside at all. When she walked into the room, her three very special companions were now sitting on the bed, but still touching. She noticed that Audrey had barely touched the half-full glass of wine.

Audrey noticed the direction of her gaze and responded, "A waste of good wine, but I don't respond well to alcohol. I've gotten drunk a couple of times, with the same results each time — I just sit in a corner and cry. No happy drunk for me; just the opposite."

"So, you don't seem very upset that you've just been talking with a..."

"Brenda just said to tell you she wasn't a ghost," Audrey interrupted. "She also said she didn't know exactly what she was." Then, stifling a giggle that she was afraid would get out of control, "I can't believe I'm calmly sitting here relaying information for Fred's deceased wife. I should be having hysterics or something."

"Well, you did faint," Fred supplied.

Carla, knowing that Diana would say it was Fred's influence that was keeping Audrey calm, just smiled, "Our man's influence, no doubt." Although she had said it in a light manner, she had been serious and Audrey realized it.

"You really believe he's an Alpha," Audrey said.

"Yep. Absolutely. And when he makes love to you, you will be absolutely sure, too," Carla half-joked, but meant it, anyway.

"Hey. I'm sitting right here. If you're going to talk about me, how about doing it behind my back," Fred laughed.

Carla took the couple of steps needed, leaned over and whispered in Fred's ear. "I want to invite her to go with us on our trip. Yes or no. Tell me now."

Fred touched his mouth to hers for an instant, then looking into her eyes, said, "I told you before that this thing worked both ways, just like Jeff told me. I don't think I could back off now even if I were willing to try, and I'm not. So the answer, of course, is yes."

"Good," Carla said, standing back up. "I knew what the answer was, but I didn't want to get my ass spanked for going ahead without making sure you agreed," she teased loudly enough for Audrey to hear.

"Spanked?" Audrey whispered, an odd look on her face.

"Well, he hasn't done it to me yet, but there's always hope," Carla said.

"Mammaaa," Jessica laughed, drawing out the word, "you're going to scare Audrey."

"Oh, I'm not scaring Audrey. Besides, our man is just a big wuss, anyway," she deliberately said to provoke Fred.

"Oh, am I now?" Fred said coming to his knees on the bed.

A few minutes later, the tickling was over to keep Carla from wetting her pants. But now she was so horny she was seriously thinking about jerking Fred's shorts and underpants down and mounting him right here, sore pussy and all. Instead, still breathing hard from the exertion and holding back an occasional giggle that wanted to reoccur, she smiled at Audrey, "Want to ride with us a few weeks on our trip?"



-------

Chapter 24


LATE MONDAY NIGHT — SEPTEMBER 30

Captain Bill Madison was worried. Both Jill and Kathy thought — and Bill agreed — that Jill's deflowering should wait until the marriage, just as they had done before. But where was Jill going to sleep until then? Was he to make love to Kathy with Jill lying there watching and not participating? She had responded, to use the word lightly, to his calling her for a mate. She had clung to him all day. He had to run her out of the bathroom to potty. She had held his dick for him when he had to pee, but he flatly refused for her to be there when he did the other, no matter how long they had been married.

Jill was getting a little better, and she even acknowledged that the chance of Doctor Ingles getting to her here at the retreat was, indeed, slim. Still, except for a short conference with Diana, she wouldn't let Bill out of her sight, and generally was either sitting in his lap, or had her arm around his waist, standing or sitting, if she could manage it.

Arlene and Ann had found a picture of Ingles on the net — quite a few of them. He had been to several popular functions, and had his picture taken. The computer system now had his image and would notify everyone if Ingles tried to come up the driveway or land by helicopter. The girls had also posted a picture of him near the kitchen and living room so he would be on everyone's mind in case he managed to somehow slip through.

Jill knew all this, but still she was scared. Bill had reminded her that this was a two-bedroom suite, and she could sleep in Linda's old bedroom. Jill had responded with tears and clinging to him more tightly.

Problem was, Jill was a gorgeous woman. She exuded sex. She now looked like the girl he married all those years ago, and that only magnified her attraction. Kathy was a little sexpot, even though she wouldn't acknowledge it. Bill wanted some pussy, to put it bluntly. Kathy was more than willing, but how was he going to do it to Kathy with Jill lying beside them. He wasn't sure he could control himself to wait until their wedding, though. It would be so easy to slip out of one woman and into the other. His cock seemed to try to climb out of his underwear even as the thought crossed his mind.

To further complicate things, it still gnawed at him that other men had used his wife. The other men were vague shapes in his mind, since he had no idea how many, or under what exact circumstances, but he had seen Ingles at the attorney's office. Bill knew the prick. Now he was reminded of him when he saw the bastard's picture. But he agreed with the girls that the picture should be posted. They had asked all three of them before they put it up, but they agreed it should be there, at least for the time being, to make sure everyone at the retreat would recognize the doctor instantly. Arlene had put it on the door of the kitchen, and on the jamb of the living room doorway. This bastard had fucked his wife; had come in her pussy.

Don't go down that road,  he admonished himself. She's still pure to me. She didn't do this willingly. Hell, if it had been straight-out forcible rape, I could handle it, but with the drugs and hypnosis, she willingly fucked them. I know it wasn't her will, but my brain knowing that, and my heart knowing that, are two different things. I'll get over this. I know it's childish of me, but it still hurts. Damn, I need to kill that bastard. I would love to take my Sig and put a round between that asshole's eyes. Seeing his brains blown out the back of his head would make me whole again. Shit, I've become as bad as he is. Shit. Shit. Shit! I'm fucked up.

Bill shook his head, trying to get his mind off Ingles. Now back to my problem. How in the fuck am I going to lie in bed between two sexy women with a hard-on sticking out of my shorts? Bill heard a stifled giggle and turned at the sound. Oh, crap,  he thought as his dick came to full-hardness in seconds. They both just walked out of the bathroom wearing identical, pale green negligées. And that little grin on Kathy's face tells it all. She isn't about to wait. Jill might not make it through this night with that new hymen intact, no matter her intentions.

Fuck it,  he thought as he began unbuttoning his shirt while standing next to the bed. The women swayed across the room. Kathy had his belt loose and his pants undone by the time he had his shirt off. He had already removed his shoes and socks while waiting for the women. When his pants dropped to the floor, Jill went to her knees to pull his shorts down, his cock popping out of them right in front of her face.

She smiled up at him. "I'm going to wait until we're married again before I give you my cherry. I want to feel the pain and I want you to see the blood so you'll know that I'm yours again. But we went quite a while before without your penetrating me, and I can wait for a few days now. Kathy can take care of you. I can use my mouth on this," she said, shaking his dick, "and you can use your mouth on me — if you want to," she finished tentatively.

Before he could respond, Jill opened her mouth and slid the head of his cock past her lips, cupping the bottom of his dick with her tongue. Lightly sucking, she continued to look up at him. Although he seldom had to hold back to keep from coming, he did now. It had been a long time since he had a blow-job from Jill, and looking down at her, he suddenly had a vivid memory of her doing that for him in his room at college. She looked exactly like she did then, even the knowing gleam in her eye as he clamped down on his lust to keep from coming.

Well, hell. Should have left it up to the women instead of worrying about it. This might work out after all.

Kathy, on her knees also, reached beside Jill to cup his balls in her hand as she too smiled up at him. After a moment, she brought her nails gently down the back of his sack and across his balls. A torrent of semen would not be denied. Jill moaned and swallowed as Kathy giggled.

The back of Bill's knees contacted the bed as he staggered, then collapsed on the bed. Somewhere in the process, Jill pointed his cock at Kathy's mouth. She got a spurt on her face and the last one in her mouth as she continued to giggle while trying to swallow. His dick didn't go down.

He managed to get completely onto the bed before Kathy settled her pussy on his cock and dropped, screaming, as his dick rammed all the way to her cervix. She, obviously on the edge, thrashed around for a moment. The scream, intermittent as she drew breath, continued as the orgasm was full upon her. Taking a deep breath, she announced her pleasure as her scream gathered volume.

Bill had no idea whether the two women being together with him was the reason they were so hot, or if it was something else. Whatever the reason, they both seemed bent upon out-screaming, out-fucking (in Kathy's case, at least), and out-sucking the other, but they didn't seem to be competing exactly, just horny out of their minds and willing to do anything to please him.

As soon as Kathy could function again, she leaned forward pulling at his head while Jill shoved a pillow behind him. Even as Jill dabbed at the come on Kathy's face with a washcloth, Kathy pulled her negligée out of the way and stuck a breast in Bill's mouth, the nipple swollen. A moment later, he felt Jill's hand at their junction, just touching; apparently she wanted to be part of their joining.

Did she learn this from that son-of-a-bitch? Bill thought, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. She's trying her best to please you, idiot — both of them are. But there's more going on. I've never seen either of them this excited.

"Suck harder," Kathy whined as she crushed her breast to his face. "Suck harder," she insisted, louder. "It tingles like I've never felt before. It feels soooo good," she gasped as he sucked as hard as he could.

I can't imagine that not hurting,  Bill thought, wondering at the change in her as she wailed and thrashed on him, rubbing the head of his cock hard against her cervix. He almost had to pull back, the sensation becoming pain, but she screamed in his ear, her body trembling all over, her pussy clamping down on him with a pulsing that he had never felt from her before. Suddenly, there was a dead weight on his chest as she collapsed. After a moment, she took a shuddering breath, but it was obvious she was out.

A couple of hours later, they had to get up, change the sheet and take a shower. There was come everywhere. He had never come so much in his life. Kathy was whining about being sore, but she grinned when she did it. Jill's lips were swollen from sucking his dick, his tongue was worn out from licking her pussy, and his dick was damn happy. They piled back into bed with the women sprawled half on him, their breasts pushing nicely against his chest. He was too tired to pay more than passing attention, though, as sleep hit him like a truck.

-------

Fred and the women had talked for a while, but everyone was tired. He gently kissed Audrey goodnight, then Carla and Jessica each briefly touched their lips to Audrey's.

After the three had left for their bedroom, Audrey lay awake listening to their barely heard voices, but soon there was silence. There was no noise. I don't think they did anything,  she thought as she absently tweaked her nipples with thumb and forefinger. She could faintly smell Fred's cologne, as well as the perfume worn by mother and daughter. Those two are a man's walking wet dream. I can't compete with them. Oh, my boobs are okay, but Carla and Jessica are prettier than I am. But Fred said he loved me, and the women just said the same thing when they told me goodnight. How can that be? I can't fall in love with a guy who already has two pretty women that will fuck his brains out at the drop of a hat.

Audrey lay there for long minutes, but the ache between her legs would not go away. She slid a hand inside her panties, but quickly grabbed the pillow with her other hand and bit down to stifle the scream when an orgasm consumed her as soon as she touched herself. It lasted a long time as she bucked her pussy upward.

Twice more she brought herself to peak as she locked her teeth in the pillow to keep the others from hearing. Finally, sweating and on trembling legs, she went to the half bath as quietly as she could, thankful for the nightlight. Closing the door before she flipped the light switch on, she wet a washcloth and ran it over her body, then gently wiped her pussy clean of her juices. After drying off, she slipped Fred's tee-shirt back on, then looked disgustedly at the soaked crotch of Jessica's new panties. I'll just sleep without them,  she thought as she turned the light out and started back to bed.

A moment later, she stood beside her bed after tucking the panties under the pillow, a wild thought in her mind. Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked over, quietly opened the bedroom door and tiptoed into the room. From the heavy breathing, they were all asleep, but a deep voice quietly said, "Come here. This is where you belong."

She stumbled toward Fred's voice. Someone pulled the sheet back and took her into their midst. There were a couple of sleepy-sounding giggles, but no other comments from the women. He pulled her onto him, then put the sheet back over everyone. She was lying on top of him. My pussy is almost on his cock. I can't do this. Have I lost my mind? But she could hear the slow thump, thump of his heartbeat in his big chest. She felt so small lying on top of him. She squirmed around wondering what to do. She couldn't sleep like this. She meant to slide into bed with them, not be on top of him.

"Be still. You're home now, remember? We love you," his voice rumbled quietly in her ear. His hand cupped the back of her head, gently massaging. His other hand caressed her back, petting her as if she were a cat. The thump of his heart grew louder, became everything. She slept.

-------

Audrey awoke to the low rumble of thunder in the distance and the soft sound of rain on the RV's roof. Someone had left a vent or window cracked, for she could smell the rain and pine needles. Great, we've been a long time without a good rain,  she thought as her mind slowly gathered itself.

I've got to pee, but...  She remembered where she was, where she was sleeping. There was something hard, thick and long stuck between her legs riding against her pussy. She had only to rise up and his cock would be ready to enter her. She froze as he chuckled, the laughter felt through his chest as much as heard.

Before she could say anything, his strong hands pulled her up until he could seal his mouth against hers. I have morning breath. He can't kiss me now. But he did, anyway. The pole between her legs grew. He jerked the sheet back and swatted her ass.

"Get up, me lovely. I have to pee or put up sail," he said. She couldn't help it. Silly sounding or not — it was funny, and absolutely the last thing she had expected.

She scrambled toward the foot of the bed to keep from getting on Jessica or Carla, who were now both awake and giggling. His hard cock rubbed across her pussy and belly as she moved, setting tingles through her womb and almost numbing her mind.

On hands and knees, Fred stretched across Jessica to scramble out of bed, then headed toward the bathroom, closing the door. Suddenly her need to urinate maxed and she walked quickly for the half-bath. I'm glad it is so dim in here. My face feels like it's on fire. I slept on his chest. That big cock of his was right against my pussy. I haven't had a man in four years. I couldn't see it much in the dim light, but I could feel it. How do they take that thing inside them? Oh, shit. I'm acting like a little girl. What's wrong with me?

The thunder rumbled closer and the sound of the rain on the roof increased. She used the bathroom as quickly as she could. Crap, I left my clothes by my bed. She opened the door a little, but Fred was standing there with her things.

As she reached for them, he reached for her. He kissed her briefly, then with his lips almost touching hers, quietly said, "You're beautiful."

"I think so, too," Brenda said. Since Fred was touching her, Audrey heard her.

Her nipples had already been erect, but with his touch, they popped out even more, tenting the tee-shirt. "Thanks," she mumbled as Fred stepped back and she closed the door to dress.

I'm talking to a ghost,  she thought. And the really weird part is that it's beginning to seem normal after last night. But she didn't say anything while I was on Fred's chest. Does she sleep, too?

She looked at her image in the mirror. Fuck. I don't think I've ever seen my nipples look like that. I might just as well have gotten on my hands and knees in front of him and stuck my pussy up in the air like some slut in heat. She wanted desperately to pull on her obscenely swollen pips, but refrained at the last moment.

Shortly, she was out, wearing the same shorts and top she had on yesterday, sans panties and bra. Oh, well. It's not as if he hasn't felt my boobs pressed against his chest all night, and he's darn sure seen my nipples through that tee-shirt.

But Fred had his back to her for the moment as he opened the outside door a little. "It's coming down in sheets out there," he said unnecessarily as the sound and sight of the rain met them.

Audrey came up beside him and unconsciously leaned into him to stare out into the rain, "We have five campers scheduled to be here this morning. I'll bet Rob wishes it was his day off," she chuckled.

"If everyone is dressed, I'll open the shades so we can see out," Carla said, doing so.

"Why? Do you escort everyone to their campsite and help them hook up the way you did us?"

"Absolutely. Well, unless they're one of our regulars and specifically tell us not to. The personal touch has always worked for us. When we're in our slack period, it's easy, but summer time when Rob was pouring concrete and I was working the office by myself, it got to be hectic.

"Looks like a stay-at-home day," Fred laughed. "We don't have to be anywhere we don't want to be. Weather report said it would rain all day. We'll just call up to the office and tell them we're here for another day. Reckon we have enough pull with the owner to swing it?" he teased.

"Yeah," Audrey laughed, "I'm fairly certain they'll let you stay," she giggled. Wow, I love these people. Any little thing makes me laugh. I haven't felt like this in years — well, never, I guess.

"We're gonna get wet loading Audrey's clothes in this rain, though," Jessica said as she put her arm around Fred from the other side.

Hearing her say it makes me ... Heck, I don't know what it makes me. I want to go with them. They said they would bring me back, or send me home on a plane if I had rather, or stay with them forever. My brain wants to run screaming from this. I haven't known them long enough, but it feels right — just plain right.

But what if I'm wrong? Fred could have taken me this morning, though. I was wet again as soon as I felt his cock against my pussy. I didn't have any panties on. He could have lifted me up a little and shoved his cock in. But he didn't. I wouldn't have tried to stop him. Heck, I wanted him to.

Fred broke into her thoughts with, "The heck with it. I have a rain suit, and we have umbrellas. It won't rain this hard all day, anyway. But let's eat, I'm starved."

"Eat?" Jessica said. "But we're going out for breakfast, aren't we? We eat in every day at home."

Audrey leaned around Fred to talk to Jessica. "These are the clothes I had on yesterday. I can't go out without clean clothes. Just drop me by the office; I'll stay here..."

"Bullshit on the not going with us," Fred said a second before anyone else could respond.

"Lady needs clean clothes," Jessica repeated to Fred as if he couldn't hear for himself, but she grinned when she did it.

"I'll pull the Cruiser up so the passenger door is close," he said, taking the hint.

Audrey got a ride to the lodge so she wouldn't have to walk in the rain. With the way the wind was blowing, an umbrella would be next to useless, anyway. By the time she was dressed and they were back, the downpour had reduced to a steady gentle rain, but the clouds were thickening again.

When they were back inside and everyone was ready, "Where are we going to eat?" Carla asked as she readied umbrellas.

"What about Cracker Barrel?" Then turning to Audrey, "Is there one around here?"

"Well, not on Pine Mountain, but there's a new one over at the Interstate junction, maybe fifteen miles or so," she replied.

Fred grinned at the women, "Right next door. But I want a cup of coffee to go with us."

"Already ready," Carla said as she turned to fill his go-cup from the maker. "The man gets ill if he has to wait long for his coffee," she laughed.

Soon everyone had a cup to take with them, and they fought cups of hot coffee, umbrellas and the rain, which had returned to a steady downpour, as they got, laughing, into the Cruiser.

Jessica was first out the door as she quickly ran around to the other side of the vehicle and got in the back. Carla quickly got in the back on the passenger side, leaving Audrey no choice but to get in the front beside Fred.

Fred closed the door of the RV and locked it with the remote as he turned his umbrella against the wind for the few steps to his driver's door. When he got in, Audrey was arguing with the women, "I shouldn't be sitting up here. It should be you, Carla, or Jessica, for that matter. One of you belongs beside your m..."

Fred reached over and grabbed her neck, pulling her into a quick, hard kiss. Cut off in mid-word, her blush evident when their lips parted, she asked, "Do you always get your way?"

"Hah," Brenda laughed in his mind, and since they were still touching, Audrey heard her, "we let him think he gets his way from time to time."

Audrey pulled back laughing as she buckled her seatbelt. "I can't believe I'm talking to a ... uh... spirit. I know you don't like the word ghost," she apologized to Brenda.

"I knew I liked this girl for some reason," Brenda teased, but no one heard her except Fred.

"Said she likes you," Fred interpreted as he looked at Audrey.

"I like her too," Audrey returned.

Jessica's stomach growled. "Okay let's roll."

"Or swim, as the case may be," Fred said, starting the car and turning the wipers on high. Every window instantly fogged as the blower came on. They had to wait for a minute as he turned the air conditioner on the defroster setting for the dry air to get rid of the moisture they had brought in with them with the wet umbrellas.

"Humidity is a wee mite more here than it is in the mountains of Colorado," Fred said as he eased onto the little road that circled through the camp.

"Yeah, the air feels like soup," Carla laughed, "and that was before the rain started."

"I think I read somewhere that the humidity in the mornings was from eighty percent to ninety-five percent. That's a little on the wet side compared to a lot of places," he joked.

"I can't imagine what summers are like here," Jessica chimed in. "Didn't you say it got to be a hundred and five degrees Fahrenheit or more? Crap, they said on the news that it was ninety yesterday, and this is the fall."

"Grows good peanuts, though," Fred joked as they eased by the office and turned onto the highway as Audrey motioned for him to take a left.

"Goobers don't interest me in this heat," Jessica started to joke, but her voice faltered and her face turned crimson as she remembered there was another, less ... uh, charitable, definition for the word.

"Oh, there are several campers who would probably argue that point with you," her mother said, referring to Jessica's screams of joy from having Fred's cock pushed up her night before last.

"Motherrr," Jessica said. "Audrey didn't need to hear that."

"I already did," Audrey laughed. "I was walking by — remember. And don't be ashamed. On the contrary, I'm jealous; my husband never made me do that."

"This one will," Carla said under her breath as she winked at her daughter, who grinned back at her.

"Take the next right," Audrey said as they continued down the road.

"So, what did your partner say when you told him you were going with us for a couple weeks?" Fred asked when the conversation died for the moment.

"I haven't told him, yet. He was busy when I went through to change clothes. I just waved to him. Are you guys sure about this? I mean..."

"We're sure," Carla said leaning up to put her hand on Audrey's shoulder.

Fred grinned over at her, "We won't leave without you."

Not just the words, but also the inflection in his voice seemed to speak to her soul.

"I'll tell him when I get back," she smiled back at the big man.

-------

On Matthews' Mountain:

With everyone sitting around the table and eating, breakfast was well underway. Diana looked over at Alesha. "How are you doing in the Expedition with the snow on the roads?"

"Drives like a dream compared to my car. They've taken care of most of the steeper places on the way up to the hotel, and you guys keep the driveway and county road plowed out on this end."

"And the job?"

"I'm catching on. I screwed up on a reservation yesterday, but the manager didn't even chew me out. I already had it fixed, but I told him, anyway. He's a nice guy and just said he had messed one up last week, himself. It's stressful trying to answer the phone and check in people at the same time.

"There seems to always be someone complaining: I can't use this brand of soap; I don't want to be on the back side of the hotel; I have to have a ground floor room; I've changed my mind and have to have a suite. On and on, but he says that's par for the course, and for me to just do the best I can. He gives me a lot of leeway in fixing things. He said that if a person had a legitimate complaint, I was free to comp something to make them happy. Most of the time, comps don't cost the hotel much, if anything, and if the person leaves happy, he or she will probably come back another time. Something must work, we've been near capacity ever since I started."

"Good," Diana said, smiling at her.

"Boss?" Dave said.

"I'll boss your ass," Diana shot back as she turned to him. "Boss is out playing soldier. Mess with me and I'll have your wives cut you off," she grinned back at him.

As his wives laughed, "Ouch. That was a low blow — Boss." He went quickly on before Diana could say anything. "I'll have a couple of crews free by this afternoon. I'm going to bring them up here and get them started on the schoolrooms and the indoor range..."

When he realized that Diana was trying to say something, he wound down.

"The girls accidentally found something while we were helping Carla and Jessica on the farm. They brought it up here and photocopied it on Jeff's big machine, then put the original back so Carla wouldn't know," she said getting up and motioning for Dave and Evie. She unrolled an architect's drawing on the kitchen counter, weighting the corners of the paper down with spice containers.

As Dave and Evie leaned over the counter to examine the drawing, Diana continued, "Without coming straight out and asking, they got Jessica to talk about this enough to realize that Carla and Sam had it drawn up before he got sick. They were going to modernize the inside of the house. When Sam got sick, they shelved the project.

"Carla and Jessica are gone on a trip now — as we all know — and will be gone for two or three weeks, maybe longer, but we can count on at least two weeks. How much of this do you think you can get done if you pull out all the stops?" she asked the two, her face alight with mischief.

Dave had retrieved his cup and took a sip of coffee as he thought. He glanced at Evie, then back to Diana, "Money's no object?" he asked.

"Money's no object."

"Wow. I've always wanted to get somebody to say that," Dave teased, but Evie wasn't paying him any attention and had turned back to the drawing.

"We can do this in the time we have," she said, "but ... we can improve on it, too. They were trying to save money. Look here, Dave, all we have to do is..."

Diana smiled, knowing she had the couple hooked. As she started to reseat herself, she turned back for a moment. "Evie, I've ordered the bed built. Good thing, too, because Carla called me last night, and there's an excellent chance that Fred has already added another mate. The bed will be much like ours. Might as well leave room if he expands the number of his mates."

"I'll get Korey on the phone," Evie said. "We can get him out to the farm and get started ordering materials. He might be able to break loose another crew for us, too. We can do this," she said, laughing. "Carla and Jessica will shit when they get home."

-------

Later, Dave and Evie had rushed off to the farm; Alesha had gone to get ready for work; Bill and his family had gone back to their suite. The kitchen had been cleaned up and Diana and her sister-wives were still sitting around the table enjoying a cup of coffee as they chatted and prepared for the day.

When the phone rang, Diana was closest. She turned around a little and reached over to the counter behind her to pick the instrument up. Turning back to the table, she tucked the phone under her hair to touch her ear, "Matthews' residence. Diana speaking."

"Hello, Diana. I'll be home shortly after lunch and I'll be bringing two people with me from the FBI. They need to interview Jill. No need to fix lunch for us because we'll eat before we get there. Be sure to prepare Jill. This will be a trying experience for her."

Diana hesitated, then, "I'll tell her. We'll see you then. Be careful."

Diana absently pushed the off button and turned to set the phone back in its cradle. My husband just sent me a message. Now to figure it out.

"Was that Dad?" Arlene asked.

Diana didn't respond as she focused on what Jeff had said.



-------

Chapter 25


TUESDAY MORNING — OCTOBER 1

 ... Diana absently pushed the off button and turned to set the phone back in its cradle. My husband just sent me a message. Now to figure it out.

"Was that Dad?" Arlene asked.

Diana didn't respond as she focused on what Jeff had said.

"Mom," Arlene repeated with emphasis.

Diana turned to her. "Sorry. Yeah, it was Jeff." She hesitated for a second. "Your dad was very formal on the phone. No, 'Hi, Baby, Hi, Gal, ' or anything like that. No matter where he is or who he's with, he always starts his conversations like that; never 'Hello, Diana.' Why would he be almost — formal — with me this time?"

"What did he say?" from Helen.

"He said he would be here shortly after lunch and he was bringing two FBI people with him to interview Jill. He said that I was to prepare her for the interview because it would be a trying experience for her."

"Is that all he said?" Arlene demanded.

"Well, other than saying there was no need to prepare lunch for them since they would eat before they get here."

Everyone sat quietly for a moment, then, "Hmmm," Diana said almost to herself, then a little louder as her voice took on assurance, "He's not extending courtesy to them, at least not overtly, or he would have insisted that they eat with us since they will be arriving about midday. But he was so... formal on the phone. Wait. That's what he was trying to say. Treat them formally, in other words, be discreet, I suspect. Don't show them anything we don't have to."

"No one in the hallways or living room — or any room they pass," Laura offered, then after a second, "Set up one of the conference rooms for them to use. Hmmm, maybe one of the small sitting rooms would even be better. Jill would be in a comfortable chair while they interview her, but they would not be in Bill's suite. No need for them to know anything about Bill's relationship with Kathy."

"Or any relationship here, for that matter," Diana added. "Not even a hint. It isn't any of their business."

"Bill will want to be with them when they interview Jill..." Caitlin said.

"Not good," Joyce broke in. "Jill would have moral support, but a rape victim will seldom tell all in front of her husband. Too embarrassing."

Helen sat up straighter. "But she'll need someone there, and that person needs to be female. We can't just abandon her. My gosh, what we do know of this is terrible. That interview is bound to be long and detailed. She needs someone there to support her."

"Yes," Joyce agreed, "and in addition, I don't trust the FBI. These guys could be nice, or they could be a couple of assholes. Either way, Jill needs someone there who will say, 'enough, ' when the time comes."

All eyes turned toward Diana.

"Wait. I barely know her," she protested.

"But you're a Queen," Caitlin insisted, "the Queen of a Prime."

"But I'm not her Queen. Kathy is her Queen. At least I think she is. It looks like Kathy is running things."

"Kathy may be her Queen," Helen said, obviously thinking out loud, "but does Kathy really need to hear everything Jill is going to tell about what happened to her? And ... if Kathy turns out to be their Queen, like we think, she's still new at this..."

"And you think I'm not?" Diana interjected. "This all started a couple months ago. I'm not exactly ready for my doctoral dissertation on being a Queen, after all. And who says she'll even want me in there hearing what happened to her?"

"You're our Queen and we know you're the one who needs to be there," Helen said. "Besides, you have had one heck of a lot more experience at being a Queen than Kathy has, or anyone else. I'll go talk to Bill and Kathy right now. I'm sure they'll agree and pave the way for you with Jill."

"She's right," Joyce added. "This is bad enough on a woman who has been raped by one guy. This went on for a year with multiple people, plus Doctor Asshole. Jill needs an advocate. None better, as far as we're concerned. And as far as not knowing her very well, that might be for the better."

"And I thought my day was going so smoothly," Diana sighed. "All right, I'll be there if everyone thinks I should be, and if Bill and his women agree, but I think you," she said, directing herself to Joyce, "should go with Helen to help prepare Jill. You've interviewed rape victims, haven't you?"

"Yeah, and I testified in court on one rape case, but the jury found the guy not guilty. The defense attorney got the woman so flustered on the stand that she contradicted herself. He even got her to admit she had an orgasm, even though she had originally said she hadn't. They made a fool out of her in court. It seemed like she was tried instead of the guy who raped her.

"I was at the hospital standing by her side when the doctor and nurse examined her and did the rape kit thing. There was no semen because he used a condom, but I could see bruising. In court, the defense attorney made a big deal out of her being shaved around her groin, making her out to be a slut. The rapist had choked her while he was raping her. She thought she was going to die.

"Somehow during all that, she had an orgasm. Primal instinct, I guess, but she felt big-time guilty, then lied when the defense attorney first asked her about it. When he hounded her, she admitted that she had an orgasm. At that point, it was all over with the jury; you could see it on their faces. They thought she had just gotten caught fucking around on her husband and claimed rape. That was the defense, but she hadn't. That woman was beaten, choked and raped, but a year later in court with the defendant clean-shaven, hair cut short, and wearing a suit, she lost the case and the jury set him free.

"Most rape cases are never reported to the police, let alone go to court, mostly because the woman doesn't want the embarrassment and hassle that reporting the rape produces. Strange thing though," she sarcastically said, "six months later someone stuck a knife in the guy's kidney as he walked out the side door of his favorite bar. A guy found his body as he left to go to their car. She and her husband were hosting an all-night poker party for six of his friends the night the asshole got it. Detectives tried — not very hard, I suspect — to break their story, but were unsuccessful. I guess the gangsters have used the ploy to good advantage over the years, probably worked one more time for some more or less average people. Anyway the perp won't do it again, unless he has taken up rape in Hell," she finished, grinning.

Diana cleared her throat. "Un, well, this isn't going to court, according to Jeff. But I don't know what these FBI people are doing involved in it if it isn't. But Jeff promised Jill, so somehow it will work out, but right now, we need to let her know what's going to transpire so she won't be hit with it out of the blue."

"But what if the FBI agents won't let you be there?" Caitlin worriedly asked.

"And who is going to tell Jeff no when he gets in their face?" Diana asked sweetly.

There was a tittering chorus of agreement as Jeff's wives looked at each other.

"We'll get one of the sitting rooms ready," Arlene said as she and all the other girls stood.

"After that," Helen said, "all of you need to get to class and take up where we left off. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Turning to Diana, she continued, "We'll eat an early lunch and stay out of sight in the classroom while those people are here. That okay with you?"

"Sounds good," Diana replied.

Their impromptu meeting broke up as they each went about their assigned tasks.

-------

The phone rang and Diana picked it up. "Matthews' residence. Diana speaking."

Dave's familiar voice came on the line. "When Evie and I got to the bottom of the drive, we noticed vehicle tracks in the snow going on past our drive toward the abandoned ski resort. They seemed to be double tracks as if someone had gone up and come back. Anyway, we followed them up the road for a quarter mile or so where they had turned around and come back. There were footprints in the snow where someone had gotten out of the vehicle where they made their 'U' turn. Diana, you could see part of the retreat from there now that the leaves are off the trees.

"The only reason Evie and I can think of for someone being there is to spy on us. Maybe I'm paranoid about Ingles, but those tracks worry me. I got out and stood where they had. You can only see part of the front of the retreat, so I don't think anyone could even hit one of us with a rifle unless there's a better vantage point up there somewhere, but still, it bothers me that someone was spying on us, particularly after what happened to Jill."

Diana sighed. "Thanks Dave. This scares me. I'll tell Jeff as soon as he gets here and I'll tell everyone to be extra careful. Oh, changing the subject, but I just heard the weather forecast. They're saying we're due for a foot or more of snow tonight with high winds. You two keep watch on the weather and get back before it gets bad. Promise me."

"Yeah, we listened to the weather on the way down. We'll cut it short if things start to happen."

"Remember, it snows up here well before it does in the valley," Diana said unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I know," Dave chuckled. "We'll factor that in and keep tabs on the latest forecast, also."

"Take care you two, and Dave..."

"Yeah, Diana."

"Call me before the two of you leave the farm. That weatherman said 'significant' snow of at least a foot with blizzard-like conditions."

"I've driven mountain roads all my life, Di..."

"I don't give a shit. The weather people say that the whole northwestern US is going to have record lows and lots of snow for this time of year. You call me before you leave. I worry."

"I'll call, Diana," Dave said, this time seriously. " Bye."

-------

Fred turned into the parking lot of the new "old" Cracker Barrel Restaurant and Country Store.

"Everybody been in one of these before?" Fred asked the group as he spied a parking place on the side of the parking lot.

"Yeah," Audrey replied. "I haven't been to this particular one, since it just opened, but I usually stop at Cracker Barrel when I have to go to Atlanta."

"We haven't," Carla answered, "but it surely looks like word got out. The place is packed."

"They're a chain outfit," Fred said as he shut the motor off and turned in the seat a little to look back at Carla and Jessica, "but they have some good home type cooking, and well ... they're a little different."

"Don't forget the umbrellas," he continued as he got out, taking one with him. The rain had stopped momentarily, but it looked as if it would begin again soon.

Fred held the doors open a moment later and the women walked past him into the store part of the restaurant. "Oh, my," Carla hissed.

"Looks like there's a line. I'll go have our name put on the list while you girls look around," the big man said with a grin as he watched the women start to wander through the aisles.

(For those of you who have never been to a Cracker Barrel, it's not high dining, but it is a nice place to stop while traveling, and most are within sight of the Interstate. The store part as you walk in, has a little of everything: tee-shirts, CDs, cast iron cookware, model tractors for kids, old-style lanterns, maps, toys for the road, themes like Christmas items in season — hundreds of things. If there's a line for the restaurant, you have something to occupy your mind as you stroll around, look, and kill time. They have a greeter whose sole purpose is to smile and welcome you to Cracker Barrel. The restaurant part is bordered by large windows, and the dining area is usually divided into three sections with latticework between the sections. Antique items and old pictures adorn the walls. A gigantic fireplace stands waiting in the summer and has a roaring fire in winter. Old-style alcohol lamps sit idle on tables these days, but used to burn all the time.)

-------

WILSON. GROUP OF FOUR, from the PA system.

Shortly, they were lucky enough to get a table by the window. "You are not going to embarrass us with your 'tub of grits' are you?" Carla joked, well mostly joked, after they had been seated.

"Crap, Baby, I'm hungry," Fred quietly protested as he reached to take her hand.

"He's always hungry," Jessica teased.

After the waitress brought their coffee, she turned, pen and pad in hand, toward Carla.

"Might as well get over your shock right away," Carla grinned, nodding to Fred. "Take his order first."

The waitress raised an eyebrow, but turned back to Fred.

"Uh," Fred said. "I eat a lot, and they're teasing me about it."

"Well, you're a big man, but I surely don't see any fat, so you must not eat too much," the waitress said as she checked Fred with a practiced eye, liking what she saw.

"Good," Fred quickly said, "now that we've gotten that out of the way, I want six scrambled eggs; half dozen biscuits — don't forget the butter and jelly — and a big stack of hotcakes. Oh and a bunch of those little bottles of maple syrup; those things are too small, so bring enough to start with. How many hotcakes are there in a regular order?"

"Three, but they're big."

"Okay, make that three orders of hotcakes, then. Oh, and a big glass of orange juice, and a tu ... uh a big bowl of grits — big bowl."

The waitress didn't even blink. "Anything else, Sir?"

"No, that will get me started."

"And for you, Ma'am," she said turning back to Carla.

Jessica fought the giggles while Audrey stared at Fred. When they had all given their orders and the waitress had gone, Jessica reached over and grabbed Audrey, pulling her close to whisper in her ear, "You'll find out where all that food goes when he gets you in bed. I hope you take your pill regularly."

"What?" Fred asked as Audrey's face gradually turned crimson.

"Tell you later," Jessica responded with a grin.

The four talked and watched the rain become a downpour again as they waited for their breakfast.

-------

They stopped in front of the lodge. "You sure you don't want me to go in with you? I don't mean to horn in, but if you're leaving for a couple weeks is too much of a problem for Rob ... I mean, I'm not rich, but I can easily afford to pay his son to help out in your place while you're gone..."

Audrey reached over and squeezed Fred's hand. "No. Rob won't mind, and if he gets in a bind, he knows he can have Kenneth help out. Rob wants to buy me out so badly he can taste it, and he's a nice guy. But I'll tell him that I'll be gone with you guys for a few weeks, and I also need to sit down with him and go over some things about the camp before we leave. He's more than just a friend and partner, he's been almost a father to me since my divorce, so don't worry. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Okay," Fred said, still a little dubious.

"But ... don't you let him talk you out of going with us," Jessica interjected.

"And call us if it's raining when you get through with your conference. I'll come back up in the Cruiser and pick you up," Carla offered.

Audrey stopped for a second when she opened the door to get out. "I'm going with you. It would never occur to Rob to even think about talking me out of the trip, anyway. He's been trying to get me to take a vacation for a couple of years. But I need to pack my clothes, and I need to do some washing."

"Call us when you're done talking to Rob. Jessica and I will come and help," Carla finished as Audrey got out of the car.

-------

Audrey and Rob sat in the office. "So you're finally going to take some time off?"

"Yeah. But I expected you to ask me about going off with people that I've known for less than two days," she said as she leaned back in her chair and looked at the older man.

Rob chuckled. "Now you're a full-grown woman, and you've certainly impressed me during the years we've known each other and worked together. Besides, if you don't like them, you can always rent a car and drive back, or get them to drop you off at an airport so you can fly back. Besides, they're campers; notoriously the best people in the world," he joked. "Go for it, Girl."

Audrey sat staring at her feet until the silence grew long. "Uh, Rob. Are you still approved for the loan?" she said looking back up.

Rob stared at her for a second before he answered. "Bumped into the banker after church a few Sundays back. He asked when I was going to own this place. Said he was still ready with the money. Of course, with all the additions, the camp is worth a lot more now. I don't know if I can swing that much extra or not, though."

"It wouldn't be right for me to charge much more, after all, we used camp money to expand, and you and Kenneth did most of the work."

"Heck, Audrey, you worked in here for me so I could work out there." Then after a moment of silence. "You're shitting me, Audrey. Don't get my hopes up."

"All right. Tell you what. Suppose I retain ten percent ownership as a silent partner, and sell you the camp for what you offered before we improved the place? I don't mean now," she quickly added, "but if this thing works out, they've invited me to live with them on their farm or ranch, or whatever it is, in Colorado. I really like them, Rob, and they like me. Three weeks with them on the road and I'll know for sure. If after the three weeks, we all still want to be together, I'll sell the place to you and retain ten percent to give me a little income."

"Colorado is a long way, Girl. I don't want to lose touch with you."

"I'll never let that happen." Audrey said as she got up and pulled him to his feet for a hug.

"You be careful, Girl. You've always got a home here. And I mean that."

"Yeah, I know," she said into his chest. "Don't worry about me. These are good people. What the heck, I'm just going for two or three weeks. I'll cross that next bridge when, and if, I get to it."

Pushing back, she looked up at her friend's face. "I have to put my stuff in the RV, plus I need to wash some clothes before we leave."

"Surely that fancy rig has a washer," he laughed.

"Yeah, but mine is bigger and we're not leaving until the morning, anyway. Carla and Jessica are coming up to help me as soon as we're done here." Audrey grinned at her partner, "I'm excited, Rob. I've never been anywhere much. That bastard that I was married to did take me to the Smokies (Smoky Mountain National Park, Tennessee) for a week on our honeymoon, and my family went to Jacksonville for ten days when I was a kid, but that's about it."

Rob looked at her for a moment, his face breaking into a big smile. "Pack heavy, Girl. I've never seen you this happy. If you decide to stay with them, we'll ship the rest of your stuff to you." His face took on a more serious look, "I've spoken with Mr. Wilson for only a moment, but I want to have a real talk with him before you leave, you hear."

Audrey grinned back at him. "Yeah. I'll tell him."

-------

Helen and Joyce's meeting with Bill and his women did not go as expected. Joyce broached the subject of the interview and gave the family a general outline of what Jill could expect as they sat in the suite. Helen was tactful in suggesting that Diana would be there to support Jill, since Diana was the Queen of a Prime, but when Kathy realized they weren't including her, things quickly went downhill.

"You mean I won't be there? Nonsense. I'm going with Jill. No way am I letting her go through this without me."

"You mean I can't be there when my wife has to tell this?" Bill joined in. "Bullshit. I'm going to be there holding her hand," he finished as Jill snuggled close to him.

"They can't do this with everyone there," Joyce said in frustration, "and husbands hinder, more than help, a rape investigation."

The debate continued for several minutes before Jill pushed back from Bill and sat up straight. "Stop, all of you. Everyone here is trying to protect me, and I appreciate that, but I'm thirty-five years old. Trust me; in the last year, I've gone through things that most women probably can't conceive of. I finally managed to get here, mostly because some very good people helped me, then I was healed and woke up looking like a teenager.

"My emotions are..." she gasped, but refused to cry, "a little fragile at the moment. But please understand that I'm not going to come apart because I have to tell these people what happened to me. I hate Ingles for what he did to me. I hate him. And yeah, I'm scared to death of him, too, but I know the only way I'll ever feel free to walk down the street again, is to know that he's behind bars, or dead. I'll do what I have to do. I won't break down. I'll tell these people everything I can remember — gladly tell it — if that's what I need to do to get this mess taken care of."

Turning to face Bill, she squeezed the hand she still clutched. "I don't want you to hear the things I'll have to tell. No husband should ever have to hear this. I want you there for support, but I can't have you there to hear the gory details. I'm ashamed that Kathy is going to hear what I've done, and had done to me, but I want her there if she'll go. But Diana is..." She stopped for a moment, wondering just how she was going to say what she needed to say, then just went on, anyway. "I want her to be there too. I can't really explain it, but if she wants to be, I want her there. With Kathy and Diana, I'll be fine. But Bill, I just want you to be near when I come out of that room. Really close. I want to know that you will be waiting for me."

"I'll be near," Bill sighed. "I don't like not being in that room with you, but I can see the logic," he finished, knowing he could never stand to hear all the details of what Ingles had done to his wife, at least not without immediately setting out to kill the son-of-a-bitch. Standing, he paced back and forth, his pent-up energy needing release.

Helen and Joyce also stood. "We need you to go with us to our suite," Helen told Jill. "We can't have you and Diana looking like two teenagers when those agents interview you. That would bring up things the agents don't need to know about. Both of you will look like you're in your thirties when we're done."

-------

Bill Madison paced. "Look at that," he told Kathy, pointing to the weather radar image on the computer screen. "We've got weather moving in. They better get here soon. This isn't going to be weather for a helicopter, and it's already two o'clock. They were supposed to be here midday, didn't Diana say?"

HELICOPTER APPROACHING, the security system announced.

Bill sighed with relief.

-------

"I'll be waiting for your call and bring in the snacks," Arlene said.

"I don't know how long it will take," Diana reminded her, "but if it goes over an hour, I'll call for a break and get in touch with you."

All the wives hugged Diana. The girls, including Linda and Kim, headed for the classroom along with Helen. Laura, Joyce, Caitlin and Kathy escorted Jill to the sitting room that was to be used for the interview, then left Kathy and Jill to wait for the agents. Bill picked up a book and returned to sit in a meeting room nearby, frustrated.

Diana stood just inside the back door waiting. Jeff ushered the two agents in and they stopped to be introduced to Diana. Although Jeff introduced them as FBI agents, there was something slightly odd about the look that he gave Diana.

It feels like he just lied to me, and he raised an eyebrow when he introduced them. They look like what I assume FBI agents should look like, at least the ones I've seen on TV. She quickly scanned the two again. Both were younger than she expected; maybe mid-twenties, she guessed. The guy was about five feet nine inches tall, had short hair, dark suit, and had a laptop bag hanging from his left shoulder. He was a bit thin, but seemed intelligent. The woman was a female version of the man as far as clothes were concerned, and almost as tall as he was, even her hair was as short as it could be and still appear feminine, but she had a very pretty face, and had a distinct figure under the severely cut clothing she wore. She stood fully erect and carried an attaché case in her left hand.

Diana looked at her husband again. These aren't FBI agents. That's what Jeff is telling me. But he isn't upset, and he just smiled at me. Then it dawned on her. It's subtle, and they're trying to hide it, but they defer to my husband. These people are military. They are his people, or something close to it. I can see it in their body language. It's hidden, but it is there. They're playing a role of some kind. But if Jeff isn't upset, then there's no cause for me to be. I've known for a long time that he has to be in some type of Black Ops organization. Now he brings two of his people here. What's going on, my Husband?

Turning on the charm, Diana escorted the "agents" down the hallway. As she stopped before a doorway, "We've prepared a sitting room that we hope you will find comfortable for your interview with Jill."

Opening the door, she ushered them inside. "This is Mrs. Jill Madison," she said, indicating the seated woman. "And this is Captain Madison's co-pilot and Jill's best friend, Kathy Arnold. This is Agent Kayla Fisher, and Agent Nicholas Campbell."

After the greeting, "Kathy and I will remain with you while you conduct your interview," Diana went on as if she were discussing the weather.

"Uh, Ma'am, it would be better..." the male "agent" started, as Jeff stood back grinning.

"It isn't open for discussion," Diana interrupted, her voice much more firm this time. "This woman has gone through a tremendous ordeal. Neither Kathy nor I will interfere with your questioning of Jill, but we are here as her advocates. She is well aware that she will have to tell everything that has happened to her — everything. But we will not leave her alone with you, or any other stranger, for that matter, just now. We will not interfere in any way unless she becomes too upset. Trust me; she wants this just as much as you two do — probably a lot more."

"Major," the male "agent" said as he turned to Jeff. "We have classified materials with us..."

"Sit with your back to a corner," Jeff interrupted, "so no one can see your computer screen. Neither my wife, nor Ms. Arnold will make an effort to observe what your equipment does. It's that, or we call the helicopter back."

The "agents" looked at each other and the female gave a slight nod. The male turned back to Jeff, resigned. "Are you going to stay, Sir?"

Jeff just slowly shook his head. "I imagine, the fewer men around while she tells this, the better."

Jill just sat, her face pale, while the exchange went on.

Agent Fisher turned to Diana. "Mind if we rearrange the furniture a little?"

"Certainly not. We'll be glad to help. What do you need done?"

"We need to move two of those nice comfy chairs there," she said pointing, "where I can sit facing Mrs. Madison. Nick can sit there in the corner and monitor our conversation." Then turning to Diana, "Ma'am, we're not the bad guys you seem to think we are. I've conducted this type of interview before. It will be more of a conversation than anything else. I will have to ask a question from time to time, but I was once a rape victim. We will simply sit and discuss it, but we do need as much information about this group as we can possibly get. This will probably take the rest of the afternoon, but we will break frequently. We will do everything in our power to keep the stress to a minimum."

"What if we use the couch instead of a chair for Jill? That way, Kathy and I can sit on either side of her and hold her hands." When the "agent" started to object, Diana quickly went on, "Jill will respond better that way; watch and see. If it doesn't work, Kathy and I will move to the other side of the room. How's that?"

The "agent" sighed again, not pleased, but knowing from the look in Diana's eyes that it would be, no matter how much they argued, "Yes, Ma'am. We'll try that."

"If you need me, I'll be around," Jeff said as he turned to leave, closing the door behind him.

Shortly, the furniture was arranged to the "agents'" liking. "Agent" Fisher opened her case and took out what appeared to be a somewhat thick glove, while "Agent" Campbell pulled a small table in front of his seat in the corner and opened his laptop.

"I need you to put this on your right hand..." the female said as she approached Jill, the glove in hand, as the three women sat on the couch.

"What is that?" Jill asked, not giving Fisher time to explain.

"To put it crudely, it's a very sophisticated type of lie detector."

"I'm not going to lie to you," Jill snapped, but tempered her over-response with, "It's in my best interest to tell you everything I can. I have no reason to lie."

Fisher stood holding the glove, although she hadn't made any effort to give it to Jill. "We are here to verify a report given by Major Matthews concerning what you have told him happened to you. This is your word against a physician's. Oh, there is a lot more to it than just that, but with this device, it becomes more than just your word, for then we'll know that you have told us the truth — the absolute truth as you know it."

Jill sat for a moment, then extended her right hand. "All right. I can see that it's necessary."

As Fisher slipped the thick glove on Jill's hand, she looked to her partner, who checked his screen, and nodded.

"Okay, we're ready if you are. Oh, and one more thing," she said as she stood back up, "Mrs. Matthews and Ms. Arnold, because of the equipment I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you not to touch Mrs. Madison. You may sit close, just don't touch skin to skin, please."

Diana shrugged, but clasped her hands in her lap. Kathy didn't look pleased, but said nothing.

"Uh, don't you have to ask me some questions to get a ... baseline or something like that? I once took a lie detector test when I applied for a job. They had me answer questions from a form, then had me lie. They said they did that to set up a baseline so they could better tell the truth from a lie."

"We don't need anything like that with our equipment," Agent Fisher said as she pulled her chair close and seated herself. "May I call you Jill?" At Jill's nod, the agent continued. "Fine. Just call me Kayla. Now why don't you just start where you feel comfortable? Say, perhaps, with how you met this doctor in the beginning, then just tell us what happened. Go into as much detail as you think will be relevant just now. We'll revisit everything later to get the rest."

Jill sat silent for a moment. "Well, I had a yeast infection, and it had been several years since I had a, uh ... female checkup..."



-------

Chapter 26

Alesha came in a little after 4:30. Jeff met her in the hallway and told her about the "agents" and what they were doing there, then, "How did you get off early?"

"We're due more than a foot of snow with high winds. The manager lives in the hotel. He took over and told me to go on home before the snow got so bad I couldn't see to drive."

"I'm glad he let you off early. I just ran the plow down the mountain, but the snow has picked up and the wind has started to gust. Mountain weather report said the gusts would be up to forty miles per hour. Looks like we have a couple of 'agents' who will spend the night."

"Well, they shouldn't be too upset about that," Alesha laughed. "They get to spend a night in a beautiful place."

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. Uh, is Jesse coming for supper?"

Alesha stopped as they reached the kitchen door. "No, he's pulling a double shift today."

"Okay, but you make darn sure he knows he's welcome — any time. He doesn't need an invitation."

Alesha touched Jeff's arm for a second. "I appreciate the way you and your family have treated me. I get to live in your beautiful home. I have a good job..."

"We didn't have anything to do with the job," Jeff laughed. "You got that on your own."

"But Jesse got the interview set up for me," Alesha quickly interjected. "Well, anyway, I feel like my life has turned around. He..."

" ... is a good man," Jeff finished for her. "But if he isn't the right one, you don't have to go any further than just being friends."

"I like him a lot; maybe too much. But my choices in men haven't been the ... best in the world," she managed with a sick laugh. "Now, I don't have to ... do anything to have a place to live, or stay out of the cold. Jesse said he would wait, and he hasn't pushed me at all."

"A good man won't push," Jeff assured her. "You be sure before you take the next step. If Jesse gives up, it will be his loss, but I suspect he'll stay the course."

"Thanks, Jeff," she said as she kissed him on the cheek. "I'm going to find the others and start dinner."

"Laura is already in the kitchen," Jeff said.

Alesha went on through the kitchen door, and Jeff continued on down the hallway. He would wait until the interview was over before calling the colonel about Fisher and Campbell spending the night.

-------

Jeff and Bill sat in the hallway a short distance from the interview room. Jill came out, her face drawn and tear-stained. She looked in the wrong direction, then when she turned the other way, she saw her husband who had already gotten to his feet.

Jill ran the few steps and crashed into his chest, to be wrapped instantly in Bill's arms. Jeff heard the quiet sobs from Jill as Bill asked, "Did they mess with you in there?" his voice taking on an edge.

"No, no. They were very nice to me," she got out. "It's just ... I can let down now. Oh, reliving it was ... bad."

Bill blinked hard to keep back sympathetic tears. "Just let it go, Baby. I'm here. That son-of-a-bitch will never get you again."

-------

Ingles sat in his office reading and rereading the fax from the detective agency. He had received a phone call, but the fax was a follow-up with all the details. Fuck, she would have to run to a place that I can't get to without alerting everybody. But she'll come out sooner or later. I'll wait a couple of weeks then have the bitch killed when she lets her guard down. Fuck you, Whore. Nobody runs away from me.

-------

Diana and Kathy came out of the interview room and Kathy went to hug Jill.

"That was something ... I hope to never go through again," Diana said quietly into Jeff's ear, "and Kathy surely got a dose of what it means to have the responsibilities of a Queen."

Jeff sighed and hugged her. "She'll handle it. Oh, and to add to your problems, we have guests for dinner and the night." he finished as they watched Bill and his women, arm in arm, start down the hall toward their suite.

"Yeah, I thought we would when you got here so late. What happened?"

"Well, on the plane, we had to divert around a big storm, then we had to wait for the helicopter because of some type of mechanical problem."

"I assume you're not talking about commercial."

Jeff sighed, "No, a small jet, then the military chopper. The ride over the mountains was rough on the way out in the helicopter, and that was before the weather got bad. It would take a fool to try to come out in one of those beasts in this," he said, motioning to a window. The lights had come on outside, but it was snowing so hard they could barely see halfway across the back lot, the wind swirling the snow as the strong gusts blew it about in crazy angles.

"Alesha..." Diana started.

" ... is back. The manager lives at the hotel, and took over for her so she wouldn't have to drive in this."

"And Jesse?"

"Has to work a double, so he won't be here. Dave and Evie got in a few minutes ago, also. I'm going to tell our 'agents, '" he said with a grin, "as soon as they're through with whatever they're doing in there."

"You're going to have to tell me about these 'agents' of yours."

"Can't, and you know that."

Diana stared at him for a second. "Okay, I'm going to help with supper. Tell those two to pick a double suite that they like."

"And if they really like each other?"

"Then tell them to pick a single suite that they like," she said lightly punching him in the stomach. "Supper in thirty minutes. I'm starved."

Shortly, "Agent" Fisher walked out of the sitting room they had used to interview Jill. "You look bushed, Fisher," Jeff said.

"I am. God, I hated to do that to that woman. Uh, Major, I need to talk with you. Do you have a room that is secure?"

Jeff nodded toward the door. "What about your buddy?"

"He'll be a while."

Jeff stuck his head in the door for a minute, anyway. "When you're done, meet us in the living room. It's down the hall a ways on the left. You can't miss it. It has a window that's probably bigger than any you've ever seen."

Closing the door at Campbell's nod, Jeff turned back to Fisher. "This way."

A few minutes later, in Jeff's office with the door locked, Fisher took out a small instrument from her case and began checking the room. "I know that if you say it's secure, then it is, but I have rules to go by," she apologized.

Jeff just leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on his desk. If Little One said the room was secure, then it was, but he couldn't tell Fisher that.

Finally, she put the instrument back in her case, and the case on a nearby chair. Standing in front of his desk, she started to say something, when Jeff motioned to a comfortable chair.

"Sit, Fisher. Why so formal? You know that I'm ... retired, yet you insist on calling me 'Major.'"

Fisher ignored his question; instead she said, "Sir, I want to go on this mission. I know I'm young, but I finished college early and the FBI recruited me. I had no idea they had any use for an anthropologist, and maybe they didn't. I guess I'll never know, because I only worked for the FBI for a little over a year before my boss called me in. First thing I knew, I was working for an organization that doesn't exist. The FBI thinks I was recruited by the CIA.

"I've only gone on a few missions through the portal, and most of them just recon of old cities," she downplayed, "but I'm hooked. Hearing about what happened to Mrs. Madison, and this ... this... person who did it to her ... well, I want to be part of the team. I know you don't have any use for an anthropologist on a mission like this, but dammit, Sir, I can help box up his chemicals or something. I'll do anything you need done. I want to go."

Jeff looked at the young woman who was so intense she was sitting on the edge of her seat. "Fisher, I'm not in charge of this mission. I only brought the story to the colonel. He's picked someone to lead the mission, and it surely isn't me."

"But, Sir, I was told that Lieutenant Richardson and Sergeant Gomez are going. I know they were part of your mission when you brought the ship back. I thought you would be in charge of this. I still think you will be."

"Look," Jeff said, "the weather has gone to shit. No helicopter to pick you up tonight. I've got to call the colonel and tell him you two are here until the weather breaks. I'll discreetly ask if he would consider your being on the mission. That's all I can do."

"Sir?"

At Jeff's raised eyebrow, "Sir, I don't quite know how to say this. But I know he'll take your recommendation. I mean, you're a ... legend..."

"I'm a what?" Jeff snapped.

"Sir, Sergeant Gomez says you have a gift. It's a rarity when someone on a team you're in charge of dies. Even then, you bring everyone back — every time, and you always accomplish your mission; usually more. And they only give you the most difficult missions. Sir, they're using your missions for training. I've studied hard. I've excelled in everything they taught me at Quantico, and at the training at our base. I can shoot with the best of them, and I'm in the best physical shape I've ever been in, in my life. I have some experience with one other planet, but no combat experience. I'll never get it interviewing rape victims. Sir ... I don't mean to nag, but I want to help get this ... piece of shit."

A legend? Jeff thought as he looked at the intense face of the young woman sitting up so straight in front of him. A fucking legend? These people don't have anything to keep them busy, or something, if all they have to talk about is me.

"What else do they have to say about me, Lieutenant Fisher?" he asked, the sarcasm leaking through despite his best intentions.

"Oh, you mean about your wives?" she innocently asked.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said as a muscle twitched in his jaw. "And just how many people know about that?" he got out as he clamped his jaw down hard to stop the twitch, but the end result with the knot of muscle now standing out, was more noticeable than before.

"Well, uh ... I guess everybody. I did say you were a legend."

"Well, whoopee fucking shit," Jeff groused. "I thought we worked for a secret agency."

"Well, we do, Sir. No one could talk about it to an outsider, but we can talk among ourselves at the base. Everyone knows you're a genius and have sold an invention that has reaped millions for you. I mean, crap Sir, they use your missions for training, and give tests on your logic. Sir, there's not much we don't know about you."

Oh, you're wrong there,  Jeff thought as Little One and the Alphas crossed his mind, then grimly, The general and I are going to discuss this ... this training bullshit. "And what about, what's his name, Campbell?" he said aloud, trying to redirect his thoughts.

"Well, Sir. He's okay. He's ... well, he's a computer guru, I guess you could say. He's uploading our data now. I think the FBI recruited him about the same time they did me; then our outfit got him. But he's never been in any of my training classes, or on any mission that I know about. He just does his thing with computers, but he's, at least technically, a lieutenant just like I am."

There was a pounding on the door. Jeff quickly got up to open it to find Laura and Helen standing there, both obviously steaming. "Someone is trying to break into our computer system," Laura blurted. "And he's fucked up, too. He got past my first level of security and triggered something he didn't want. It's bound to be the turkey that was with Jill in the interview," she said glaring at Lieutenant Fisher.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said. "What did you do to his computer?"

"Oh, just gave him a screen that said, "Format of C:\ drive beginning..." Then shut his system down."

"And did you? I mean, format the drive?"

"No. Not unless he fucks with it," she said, still mad. "But if I don't boot from his CD drive with a program of my own, his disk will get erased with something a lot more potent than a format."

"Let's go," Jeff said getting up.

"What's the hurry?" Laura said a moment later, jogging alongside Jeff. "He tried to break into our system. If he's dumb enough to restart his computer..."

Jeff didn't answer and a few moments later, snatched the door to the sitting room open. Campbell sat in the corner, his face pale. "I knew you would be coming," he said.

"Don't try to restart your system," Jeff warned. "You have no idea who you are fucking with."

"I know, Sir. I shouldn't have tried your system. You, Sir, of all people."

"I'm not talking about me," Jeff snapped. "I'm talking about her," he said as he motioned to Laura.

"Not just me," Laura interrupted. "Our resident genius had a hand in this, too."

Campbell looked from one person to the other. "Honest, I was just seeing if I could..."

"And if we had that glove on you, what would your equipment say to that statement."

"Sir, with a secure area, I'll put the glove on and let you monitor the program. I was just going to see if I could do it. I just can't help myself. The FBI recruited me when I broke into their system..."

"Broke in and got caught, I'll bet," Jeff interrupted.

"Yes, Sir," Campbell said, not making any excuses.

"Any damage to our system?" Jeff asked Laura.

She snorted. "You're kidding, right?"

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, just kidding."

"More stuff for the legend," Fisher quietly said so that only Jeff could hear.

Jeff grimaced, but managed to not flinch.

-------

A few minutes later Jeff, Laura, Helen and the two lieutenants sat in Jeff's office. Laura sat to his right with Campbell's computer on her lap as she booted the laptop from her disk. A couple of minutes later, she took the disk out, shut the system down and handed the laptop back to him.

"Good as new, with one exception. If you use that computer to try to get past our security again, I won't be playing with you. I guarantee that you'll never use that hard drive again, and whatever you have on it will be gone. There won't be a warning. By the time you notice anything wrong, most of your drive will be wiped, and there isn't a program out there anywhere that will read that disk again."

"Yes, Ma'am," Campbell said, contrite.

As Jeff stood, Laura turned away from Campbell and stood to face Jeff. Putting her arms around him, she plastered herself against her husband, pulled his face down and glued her mouth to his, a slight moan slipping out. Helen giggled. When Laura broke the kiss, she turned, and after winking at Fisher, walked out of the room holding hands with Helen, both of them exaggerating their hip sway.

"Dinner ready in fifteen," Helen said over her shoulder. "Need to get washed up and meet in the kitchen."

Jeff looked after the two, thinking, Laura openly kissed me in front of these two. Now how in the fuck did she know that they know? But she was obviously sending them a message.

"They're quite a team," Fisher said. "You have so many young wives," she added, "and they're all remarkably beautiful."

"Yeah, I'm lucky," he answered.

No, they are,  Fisher thought, but left it unsaid.

"We need to call the colonel and tell him you're spending the night with us. I don't know whether you've looked outside, but if you have, you can only see a wall of white, and the wind has really picked up. No helicopter is coming up here in this. We could drive you in to Denver, but getting off the mountain right now might be a bit interesting, even in a ground vehicle. Unless you or the colonel object, you can just spend the night with us and get started back in the morning, weather permitting."

"You mean you would do this for us after I tried to break into your system?" Campbell asked.

"Oh, I'm not mad at you, and the women have probably gotten over their tiff by now, too. Besides, that's the first time anyone has tested Laura and Helen's system for them. They'll probably thank you for it, eventually."

-------

As Jeff turned the phone off, he looked at Fisher. "The colonel said the chopper would be here to pick us up as soon as the weather permits. He thinks it will be okay around dawn. And ... I'm in charge of the mission. The team is training as we speak, and our vehicles and equipment are being moved into a staging area not far from where we're going."

He turned to Campbell, "Lieutenant, since you were good enough to get past Laura's first level of security, you're going with me to take care of Ingles' computer systems."

Campbell looked at him and nodded. "Yes, Sir. No problem, Sir."

Turning back to Fisher, "And you're going, too," Jeff said to a suddenly exuberant young lieutenant.

"But remember and remember well, Lieutenant Richardson will be there, as well as Sergeant Gomez. Both of you rank no one. These people are experienced and are already training with an experienced team. We want to get in and get out with the least amount of notice. We want Ingles and all his equipment, notes, computer hard drives, contact names and numbers, chemicals and so forth. If we do it right, no shot will be fired, and no one in the neighborhood will even know we have been there."

"Yes, Sir," they said in unison.

"The colonel said that Bismarck was getting an early snow tonight, and there was a bigger storm forecast for late tomorrow or tomorrow night, so the mission is on for somewhere around midnight tomorrow while the weather is at its worst. We need to get a good night's sleep. It may be our last for a night or two."

-------

They met Bill, Kathy and Jill in the hallway near the kitchen. "Let's step into the living room," Jeff said as he approached Bill. "Come on you two," he said to the two lieutenants, as Kathy and Jill took the hint and continued on into the kitchen.

As soon as they were in the living room, Jeff turned to Bill. "We leave in the morning as soon as a helicopter can get past the weather. So be ready early — say by four. Casual clothes. We'll get you outfitted when we get to the base. We'll eat somewhere along the way."

"Sir," Fisher started.

"Cleared by the general," Jeff said, already anticipating her.

"The victim's husband?" Fisher got out.

"He's probably been in combat more than I have," Jeff exaggerated, "and he's going. I promised him."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir," she said turning to Madison.

"No problem," Bill said.

Campbell just grinned, pleased that it wasn't him in the limelight any more.

-------

While the women helped Audrey wash and pack her things, Fred noticed the rain had slackened. Taking the opportunity, he checked the fluids in the big RV, and made sure the water tank was full as well. I've barely got a hundred miles on her, but she hasn't proven herself yet. I'll check frequently until I'm sure there are no leaks in any of the systems.

Later, satisfied, he walked up the small road to the office, the women having taken the Cruiser. Rob was finishing up with a sale, so Fred strolled around the camp store killing time.

"Thinking about buying one of those?" Rob said a few minutes later as he walked up, a grin on his face.

"Uh, no. We have a lantern just like it. I was waiting until you finished," he said, putting out his hand.

After they shook, "Come on back in the office. We can have a cup and talk for a moment. I suppose you're here because Audrey told you I wanted to talk to you?"

A moment later, Rob pointed to a comfortable chair while he went over to get cups. Fred was about full of caffeine, but accepted the cup of black coffee, anyway, turning down sugar and cream.

"Feel like a teenager come to ask dad for a date with his daughter?" Rob said, chuckling.

Fred grinned back at him, "Oh, not quite that bad."

Rob sat and took a sip of his coffee wondering what he was going to say to this man who he hardly knew anything about. Finally, he sighed, "Audrey has had a hard life. She's on her own, and has been for a long time, the marriage notwithstanding. Alex inherited the place from his father. About all he did around here was gripe, from what I hear from Audrey. She has busted her ass to make a go of this place, but she's young. She doesn't need to be tied down to the 24/7 type of lifestyle that the camp requires."

"And you do?" Fred broke in.

"Well, I have a wife who will help, a son, and a soon-to-be daughter-in-law to fall back on if I need some time off. But that's not what I'm talking about. What are you? Thirty, thirty-five? Not much older than she is. She needs a life. I'm not real sure just how she fits into that life, but I've never seen her this happy. I just want her to stay that way. If you hurt her, I'll come after you. Plain and simple."

Fred, fighting back a grin at Rob's estimate of his age, looked at the man who sat staring at him. "I would expect you to," he quietly said. "But you won't have to. She'll be taken care of, and I'll never hurt her. She's not sure whether she will stay or not. She's going to ride with us for two or three weeks, then she'll decide whether she wants to try living with us. It's up to her, but she's ... more than welcome, and that's a gross understatement?"

"This place will always be her home. I've told her, but you make sure she knows that if times get bad for her, you hear?"

"I hear," Fred said, as serious as he had ever been in his life.



-------

Chapter 27


Lieutenant Kayla Fisher sat enthralled by the beauty and elegance of the giant kitchen. A kitchen had never been her thing; her idea of a home-cooked meal was barely more than heating a prepared dinner in a microwave. But these rich people were eating in the kitchen, big and elegant as it was, it was still a kitchen. She knew that the major was rich, and with them living in a place like this, certainly he had the means to have any number of servants, yet there didn't appear to be any. She had passed a beautifully appointed dining room, but they were eating like ... just ordinary people.

Deep down, she knew she was pretty, and boys had certainly chased her since she had begun to bloom in the sixth grade. By the time she was sixteen, the boys were joined by men, but among these women, she doubted if she would be able to hold her own. She had never seen this many beautiful women and girls in one place. There were several households represented here, but even she had to focus to remember all the names. Dave Hanson had three women that sat near him — well, one young woman and two girls about seventeen, she guessed. Diana had introduced Dave by his full name, then Evie, Kim and Linda by their first names only.

Evie appeared to be barely older than the girls, but she carried herself a little differently; the girls deferring to her with a subtlety that was barely noticeable, but Kayla noticed things like that. What is their relationship? Diana didn't introduce Evie as Dave's wife, but it is obvious that she is. She glanced at Diana's sparkling eyes. She's teasing me. The major has multiple wives; I think Dave does, too.

Kayla's attention was distracted for a moment as she received, took some, and passed on a bowl of mashed potatoes — then more food came. Eventually, the food was all passed around and she was eating. Her attention focused on Frank Wainwright. He carries himself differently. His and Margaret's voices are ... hmmm, a little more cultured. Not just accent, but maybe ... old money, I'd guess. He's used to being rich. Didn't Diana say that he used to own this fabulous building? He would have to be rich, then.

The food all passed around, she ate a few bites, listening to the conversations going on about her, then took a sip of her iced tea. Sweet, with a sharp bite of lemon. Southern drink,  she mused. But why haven't I tried it like that. It's good.

"Crushed ice," Diana said. "We serve it with crushed ice rather than just cube ice. It seems to taste better the colder it is."

"It's delicious. Everything is," Kayla said.

Jeff sits at the head of this monstrous table,  she continued her assessment of the family, and Diana sits at the other end. Kayla discreetly checked for wedding rings. All of the major's wives are wearing identical gold bands that match his. But one of the women — what was her name? Alesha, I think — isn't wearing one. That leaves nine women wearing his ring. Our rumors are behind. I thought he had seven wives. But the rumors will have to make their own way. I'm never telling anyone what I saw here tonight. They have obviously suddenly begun to trust me — us. I won't betray that trust.

Then there's Captain Bill Madison and Jill. Kathy, his copilot, sat next to Jill all afternoon. Every time we had a break, she hugged Jill and treated her like ... what? Unusual, but they don't bear a family resemblance at all. They can't be sisters. Oh, shit. Madison has two wives — shouldn't let an anthropologist into your home if you expect to keep things like that a secret — but none of them are even trying to keep their family grouping a secret. But they did to start with. I didn't even see most of these people until we walked into this kitchen and Diana introduced everyone.

Diana sat amused at her end of the table; Lieutenant Fisher to her right and Lieutenant Campbell to her left. Campbell was digging into the food with a vengeance. If he eats like that all the time, it's a wonder he isn't fat,  she thought as she watched Melissa refill his tea glass and offer him another piece of roast. And our Lieutenant Fisher is checking us out. She's intelligent, has a great figure, even covered up with those unflattering clothes, and she's pretty. She also has a hard time keeping her eyes off my husband, but she's being discreet about it. It's obvious, though, that she thinks he's the greatest. Hmmm. I'll have to think about that.

So, how does Alesha fit in here? Kayla thought as her eyes swept the occupants of the kitchen again. She mentioned her job at the hotel. Why is she working a menial job and living in a rich man's resort home? But then Dave calls Major Matthews, Boss. He does it in a ... somewhat teasing manner, like maybe, Major Matthews doesn't want to be called boss? There are underlying currents here that are driving me nuts.

But these people are all, hmmm ... yeah, that's one of the things,  she thought. No one is fat; no one is underweight; all of them appear to be in exceptionally good health, and there doesn't seem to be an undercurrent of ill will between the women. How can a man have nine wives and everyone be this happy? And they aren't pretending. I would notice if they were. They're really happy.

Shit,  she thought as consternation became more pronounced in her mind with her assessment of Jeff's wives, I don't care how big the Major's cock is, or how well he can use it, nine wives aren't going to get along so well that I can't notice something. I'm good at this. It just can't be. But they are; there's no pretense here. They're all truly happy. I do sense something from Alesha, but she isn't one of the Major's wives. Crap, I wish I could stay here for a while. This beats anything I've studied, and it's right here on old planet Earth.

Kayla stopped with her fork of food almost touching her mouth. I can feel ... their love for Major Matthews — and that's impossible. You can't feel other people's emotions. But I can with them. She absently put the food in her mouth, and set the fork back on her plate as she chewed and swallowed, her mind churning with her thoughts.

Feeling Diana's hand gently grasping hers, Kayla looked up to meet Diana's eyes. "We'll talk after the meal," Diana said. "Eat now and enjoy your supper, or dinner, if that sounds better to you," she said with a smile of bemusement tickling her lips.

"I'm sorry," Kayla quietly said. "I just felt..."

"I know what you felt," Diana whispered back. "Like I said, we'll talk later."

-------

The meal over, Jeff said they were going to adjourn to the living room, obviously making Lieutenant Campbell welcome. Stunned by the attention of all the women, Campbell grinned and allowed the men to take him with them.

Kayla started to pick up dirty dishes as the women began to clean up, but Arlene stopped near with a load of dishes in her hands. "We've got it, Mom," she said, as Kayla watched a younger version of Diana talking to her mother.

Kayla frowned as she focused closely on the corners of Diana's eyes, not quite believing the thought that suddenly reared up in her mind. Makeup. Women in our society wear makeup to look younger, smooth our skin, add a bit of color, look sexy, look more elegant, or something similar. Mrs. Matthews' makeup makes her look older. I've been with her all afternoon and I didn't notice it. She's wearing makeup to look older. What's going on here?

Then it dawned on her. Arlene just called Diana, Mom, not to mention the striking resemblance, or more accurately, that Arlene looks like a younger version of her mother. And Arlene is wearing a wedding ring, too. She's one of the wives, too. Then something else hit her. I doubt if that was a slip. Arlene didn't call Diana, Mom, while Lieutenant Campbell was here. She did it in front of me, only. Nor did they have to wear their rings. What's going on? Why have they suddenly trusted us with all this, and me with even more? Or was this so sudden? Diana spent several hours in the same room with me, and we talked during the breaks, I thought, casually, but maybe it wasn't so casual after all. Diana is smarter than I've given her credit for — a lot smarter.

"But you people prepared this great meal. The least I can do is help clean up," Kayla said aloud.

"Another time," Diana said, taking the dishes from her and handing them to Helen. "You and I need to talk."

"Go," Helen and Arlene said in perfect synchronization, grins on their faces.

Diana grabbed Kayla's hand and whisked her out the door. Walking down the hallway for a while, they came to an elevator. One floor up, they got out and turned left. Soon, Kayla wasn't sure she could find her way back without a false start or two.

"Here," Diana said as she opened a door and ushered Kayla into a small sitting room. "Let's sit in a window seat," she said, pushing a button that caused the drapes to pull back.

"Oh, my," Kayla said as she looked out at the raging snowstorm that she hadn't even heard inside the building. Occasionally, the snow would abate a little and they could see the naked trees swaying violently in the wind.

They sat on the plush window seat, each pulling a leg up under them so they could be more comfortable sitting facing each other and also easily see out the window at the same time.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Diana whispered. "Well, as long as you don't have to be out in it," she amended. "Frank screwed up and only built a four-vehicle interior garage. There's a much larger one out back, and a big parking lot, both front and back. With all of us living here, we get by, but come spring so the construction can go on, there's going to be a lot more room to park inside," she chuckled.

There was quiet for a moment as both women stared out at the storm while gathering their thoughts. Finally, "Tell me about yourself," Diana said as she reached over and took Kayla's hand. "Everything, please."

-------

Audrey's clothes were in the RV, already hung up or in drawers. The four women, one in Fred's mind, shared a very upbeat mood. Brenda seemed as happy as the rest.

Fred sat watching TV. "I just wish I could be in there with them. They're having so much fun in the galley."

Yeah, you always did like to cook,  Fred thought back. Shall I go stand in there with them so you can be closer?

"No, you big lug. You would just be in the way. But I can wish, can't I?"

Baby, I miss you,  Fred managed to think, but he knew his voice would have broken if he had to say it aloud just then.

"I know, Baby. But at least I'm with you in spirit," she tried to kid.

Shortly, the meal was ready and they sat to eat.

"So have we," he stressed with a grin, "decided where we're going?"

Audrey smiled tentatively at him. "Well, uh ... Carla and Jessica said they didn't care where we went, and I..."

"Baby, you're one of us now," Fred said taking her hand for a moment, "so spit it out. Where do you want to go?"

"Well, when I was fourteen, my family went on the only vacation I can remember as a child. We stayed a while in Jacksonville, Florida. I know it's just a kid's memory, but I dreamed of the beach for years after that. Could we go there for a little while?"

Fred glanced at the smiling women, the answer evident. "So, someone needs to get out the Woodall's and find us a campground around Jacksonville," he laughed.

The book seemed to magically appear. Hands quickly pushed things aside on the table as Jessica opened the campground directory to an already-bookmarked place. "Here. This one is on a lake, and if the pictures are real, it surely is pretty. Their website says they're only twenty minutes from the beach."

"Print us out a route..." Fred started, but Jessica had grabbed her food and headed for her laptop before he had the sentence completed.

They sat up well into the night planning and just talking as the rain pounded on the roof.

As bedtime neared, Fred managed to get Carla aside. "What's going on? What do we do tonight?"

Carla kissed him. "You know you can have any of us anytime."

"No, I don't know that. I've 'had you, ' to use your term, once. And I haven't 'had' Audrey at all. I love all of you, and she says she loves us, but I'm not foolish enough to go into this until I know she's ready."

"She told us she has been down on men, since that bastard she was married to licked out and fucked a teenybopper in their bed. He would never do oral with her, but expected her to give him blowjobs. Since they lived here while they were married, she doesn't want her first time with you to be in this campground. She and Jessica will sleep out here. You and I will sleep in our bed, if that arrangement is okay with you."

"That means we can't make love tonight. These walls are thin. No way can we make love, and Audrey not be able to hear us out here," Fred whispered.

"Can you wait one more night? Or, I can give you a blowjob to take a little of the pressure off."

Fred hugged her. "A blowjob would just get me started now that Jeff has done whatever it is he has done to me. I'll be fine," he chuckled.

Later as they were all ready for bed, Jessica came up to hug and kiss Fred as they stood in the living area. When she moved away, Audrey was standing behind her waiting.

"You're wearing my tee-shirt again tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, blushing. "I washed it today so I could give it back to you, and I started to put something nice on, but ... well, I kinda like wearing this, uh ... if you don't mind."

"You look good in it," Fred said, openly looking at her breasts, and her nipples that tented the fabric very nicely.

Her blush increased, but she stood erect for his inspection. "See something you like," she managed.

"Come here," he said, running the words together to sound like one.

As she stepped closer, he folded his arms about her to lift her momentarily from her feet. Gently kissing her, he said, "Tomorrow night, you'll be mine for real."

Her arms tightened convulsively about him. "I love you. I love all of you," she whispered as his lips descended to merge with hers again. This time the kiss lasted much longer.

-------

WEDNESDAY MORNING — OCTOBER 2

Jeff thought he had successfully snuck out of bed. He had put his clothes out the night before to make things quieter and quicker in the morning. He showered, then dressed in the shower area. Quietly easing back into the bedroom, intent on not waking anyone at 3:30 in the morning, he discovered the room empty.

Well, shit. I suppose they're all in the kitchen cooking breakfast. We could have eaten somewhere on the way, maybe even on the jet.

He picked up the phone and dialed Bill's suite. "We're up," Bill answered. "Be there in ten."

Grinning, he dialed Campbell's suite. Groggily, Campbell answered.

"Rise and shine. The storm has abated and the wind is down. They'll be coming for us soon."

"Okay," Lieutenant Campbell said, his mouth sounding like it was full of cotton.

"Can you find the kitchen? My wives are up and preparing breakfast for us," he said, seeing no reason for pretense if everyone at the base already knew he had multiple wives, anyway, not to mention that all his wives wore their rings last night.

"Yeah, I can find it," Campbell replied, much more awake now. "Let me get a shower and shave."

"Good; see you then," Jeff said, breaking the connection and immediately dialing Lieutenant Fisher's suite, but there was no answer. Walking into the kitchen a few minutes later, he knew why.

"Hi, Major," Fisher cheerily said as she put a stack of plates on the table.

"Morning, Lieutenant."

"You didn't have to do this," Jeff said to his wives. "We could have eaten on the plane, or somewhere else," he said as he pulled his chair back from the table and sat.

"While we lay on our butts in bed," Jennie said as she plopped down on his lap and kissed him.

"We can take a nap later, if we need to," Caitlin said as she put out two large pitchers of orange juice, and stood behind Jennie awaiting her turn.

Bill, Kathy and Jill came in, but Jill seemed nervous.

Jeff grabbed her hand as she walked by. "It will be fine, and your husband won't be in any danger."

Jill stopped to look at him. "I know — and I trust you. It's just that I'm so scared of Ingles."

Just as Bill was going to reassure her, Jill exclaimed, "We're late. I should have been here helping." Quickly, she joined the women.

When Bill glanced his way, Jeff said, "Best thing. This way she's busy. Chances are she knows that just as we do."

"I'm just ready to get this over with," Bill said sitting down as his coffee arrived, via Kathy.

Shortly, Lieutenant Campbell came in. Diana turned away from her food preparations for a moment, "Have a seat, Lieutenant. Will scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and hotcakes be okay with you? If you can't stand your eggs scrambled, we'll cook them any way you like. We're just trying to hurry since your ride is on the way."

"Ma'am, scrambled is great. But we could have eaten on the plane. I'm sure they have made arrangements for us," he answered as he sat.

"Yes, probably a microwave breakfast," Lieutenant Fisher said. "But this surely looks better," she finished as Diana put the first plate of food on the table.

The phone rang. Knowing the call at this time of the morning had to be for Jeff, Helen picked the handset up and gave it to him. "Matthews' residence, Jeff speaking."

"Major, our ETA is thirty minutes."

"Fine, I'll turn the lights on, on the helipad. If you can't see them for the snow, just land anywhere out back that works for you. The ground is frozen, anyway; you won't hurt the range."

"Well, I know about where the pad should be," the pilot said. "We'll blow some of the snow away and find it."

"Okay, we'll be waiting."

Helen had just set a big platter of scrambled eggs on the table as Jeff was talking to the pilot. When she heard Jeff mention the helipad, "Computer! Show us the helipad."

The big screen came on over the cabinets at the end of the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, the outside lights were at full brightness. Helen almost told the computer to turn the helipad lights on, but she realized that they already were; however, only two of the ground-level lights were visible through the snow, and those only because the wind had blown the snow mostly off them. Snow had drifted and buried the other lights under several feet of white.

Eyeing the drifts, "Oh, crap. That's going to be cold on my feet with these shoes," Kayla said as she put a platter of bacon on the table and sat.

"We have plenty of overshoes and boots that will go on right over your shoes," Diana said. "The boots are big things but they will keep your feet dry while you get to the helicopter."

-------

HELICOPTER APPROACHING, the computer announced.

The camera locked onto the landing light on the helicopter as the big machine came over the top of the mountain in the distance. Lieutenant Campbell took a breath as he stared at the screen. He wanted so much to ask about the software, but right now, he dared not.

Laura winked at him.

A few minutes later, the helicopter hovered above the landing pad, gradually coming down as the blizzard it created cleared. The pad was mostly free of snow as the four boarded, the door closed, the engine came up to speed, and the copter lifted.

-------

By the time Fred had the Cruiser attached, Audrey had the RV unhooked from the water, power and sewage, and everything stowed away.

"I would have done that," he said, thinking that he had yet to hook up or unhook the unit, even though he had been shown how several times. As if the process is complicated,  he thought as he grinned at Audrey while she pulled her gloves off and put them in a compartment under the RV.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I've done it so many times that it's become habit."

"We ready to roll?" he questioned Carla and Jessica as Fred and Audrey got back inside.

"You bet," they said in unison.

The big engine started easily, the jacks came up with a touch of a button as the air built and raised the vehicle to its operating height. Jessica was riding shotgun today, with Carla and Audrey sitting together on the couch. Fred didn't question the process they had used to determine who rode where.

"I need to stop at the lodge and check out," Fred said unnecessarily.

"You don't owe anything," Audrey said. "I've already told Rob to not send your charges through."

"Ain't gonna happen," Fred said. "You've got a business to run, and besides, Rob is part of it, too. It wouldn't be fair to him to do something like that."

"But..."

"Hush, woman. The boss has spoken," he teased.

They all chuckled about his minute joke.

Audrey smiled at Carla. They sat quietly for a time as Fred eased the big rig along the one-way road through the campground. "I've made this loop many times riding in an RV, or on my little cart, but I was either showing someone to a campsite, or riding with them back to the office. I've never left this place in an RV, let alone one this expensive and nice."

"You're going to spend some time in this one," Carla smiled back at her, "and you're going to get some loving like you have never dreamed of, too."

Audrey's face flushed a little. "I never thought I would even consider being part of a ... uh, harem, I guess you would call it."

"I don't know what to call it, but somehow it feels right," Carla said. "You just wait and see. Fred is worth sharing. My daughter and I have always been close; we share everything like we're sisters. I never even considered that I would share a man with her, though, but neither of us could possibly give him up, so we just started talking about our man. Then we sat down and made some decisions. Now, it seems normal, even though he has only made love to us one time. Well, one time going all the way," she amended.

Checked out, and with last good-byes to Rob, they headed for town. Later, they had eaten breakfast at the little restaurant on Main Street, where, this time Fred didn't even have to ask for his "tub of grits," the waitress having recognized him. At last — according to Jessica — they were rolling.

Jessica had programmed their destination into the GPS. "Best I can tell, we have about thirty-three miles of county and state roads before we get to Interstate 75 South," she said a few minutes later, the pretty young woman now in full navigation mode.

Of course they could have learned the same thing with a touch of the GPS screen, but reading her printout of the turns ahead and looking at the map that she had printed was more fun. She had also marked their route down from Atlanta on the map of the US she had hung on the wall. Eventually, this map would show their whole trip traced out in bright yellow highlighter.

TURN RIGHT ONTO GEORGIA 27, the female voice on the GPS instructed.

"Yes, Ma'am," Fred said with a grin.

They were on their way.

-------

"God, I'm scared for them," Jill said as they watched the helicopter lift off. Shortly, its big downward light was extinguished and they watched its running lights fade across the mountain. "What if there are other people there? He deals with bad people. They could be..."

They were all sitting in the living room watching on the big screen as Jill sat wringing her hands beside Kathy.

"Hush," Kathy broke in as she pulled Jill to her. "Jeff won't let anything happen to Bill. He's essentially just going along for the ride."

"But I don't understand why Jeff or Bill had to be involved in this. Why couldn't the FBI..."

Diana got up and knelt in front of Jill, taking her hands in hers. "Hush, Jill. You're only upsetting yourself. Those were not real FBI agents. There are things going on here that I can't tell you about, and other things that I know very little about."

"They called your husband, 'Major, '" Jill said. "That's a military helicopter. I'd bet anything that was a sergeant that held the door open for them and saluted. I'm not stupid. I'm just fucked up," she said sucking in a breath. "I keep hearing that bastard in my mind, but when Bill is near, Ingles' voice isn't strong, and most times isn't even there as long as Bill is holding me. But when I'm not near him, I start to lose it. That son-of-a-bitch fucked up my mind," she said much louder. "I don't want to be like this. I want that bastard dead," she hissed as she leaned forward with her head in her hands, trying to hold back sobs.



-------

Chapter 28

Midmorning, Fred pulled into the first rest area they came to on I-75. "Feels odd to take the truck side," he said, swinging the RV to the right toward the truck parking area. A couple of minutes later, he picked a place and eased into one of the long pull-through parking spots. "Georgia does a job on their rest areas, don't they?" he said as they all sat looking at the mowed grass under the acres of trees that surrounded the large parking area, and the almost manicured lawn and hedges nearer the visitor center.

A truck driver got out of his eighteen-wheeler and gave a little wave as they stepped out into the brilliant sunlight. Fred wasn't sure whether the acknowledgment was for the pretty women he was with, the luxury rig they were riding in, or just a simple good morning. Either way, he smiled and waved back.

"We've already gone to the bathroom in the RV," Carla said, "we'll just wait for you, if that's what you stopped for."

Fred looked around at the sparsely populated lot. "Oh, I could have pulled over and used the bathroom in the RV, but that's not why I stopped. Remember what the guy said at the dealership about not being road warriors? We've got less than three hundred and fifty miles to go today, and almost a hundred of those miles are behind us; we've called and gotten our reservations at the camp, so there's no hurry.

"Why don't we walk over to the visitor center there?" he said, pointing. "You can check things out while I use the bathroom. In other words, stretch your legs so we don't get to the campground tired out."

A few minutes later, Fred stood in front of a urinal in a clean bathroom, watching his stream hit the porcelain.

"I wish I could hold that thing for you," Brenda suddenly said in his mind.

Fred's thoughts had been on the trip and what they would do when they got to the campground. Brenda hadn't said anything in several hours. Startled, he jerked and sprinkled some urine on the floor before catching himself and redirecting the stream. He mentally grumbled about the one-size-fits-all urinals that must have been designed to accommodate a one-year-old, and seemed to be barely above his ankles. The giggling in his mind didn't help as he tried to remain composed and appear nonchalant as the guy standing at the next urinal jerked his foot out of the way and glared at him.

"Sorry," Fred said.

The man didn't say anything, just shook his dick dry and zipped up. Turning away, he went to the sink to rinse his hands, but Fred noticed as the guy checked him out in the mirror.

Well, I guess I would be a little leery, too, if some dork jumped like he had been goosed, and almost pissed on my foot,  Fred thought.

The man left after one last glare at him. Fred chuckled in spite of himself as the giggles in his mind changed to unladylike guffaws.

It wasn't that funny. And I just pissed beside his foot.

It didn't matter; she continued to laugh. "But did you see the look he gave you in the mirror? she gasped out. And he was only half your size. No telling what he thought you were on when you suddenly jumped like that. I'll bet he was afraid you were going to come unglued and beat him to death with that baseball bat you call a dick."

Oh, he didn't notice my dick,  Fred tried to reason.

"Didn't notice it, my ass. He couldn't keep his eyes off it. Then when you did that rain dance, he darn sure got a good look at it. Heck, his mouth was hanging open."

It was not,  Fred said, but the belly laughs were back in his mind as he zipped up and washed his hands. When he walked outside, the women were waiting for him in front of the center. "What's that look on your face?" Jessica immediately asked.

"Oh, nothing. Let's walk around for a few minutes," Fred said, trying to distract her.

Grabbing his wrist, Jessica said, "What's he up to Brenda?"

Soon, all three women were touching him as they strolled along while Brenda told her tale, embellishing it all out of proportion — in Fred's opinion. He was pleased to note there wasn't anyone near them to wonder why the women all seemed to want to hold onto him as they walked. Audrey had been forced to walk behind him as she reached up and touched his neck, all of them laughing like idiots.

A few minutes later: MERGE LEFT ONTO INTERSTATE 75 SOUTH. MERGE LEFT! the GPS instructed as they entered the run-on ramp from the rest area and accelerated to match traffic on the Interstate.

-------

Both pilots were base people, therefore in the know and blocked from telling anything about the base to outsiders. So shortly after reaching cruising altitude, the aircraft was deemed secure by both Campbell and Fisher. Fisher was obviously uncomfortable with Captain Madison aboard, though, her speech guarded.

"Lieutenant, Bill will have the blocks as soon as we're there. This has been approved by the General. We can now speak freely in front of Captain Madison concerning the Ingles matter."

"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

"Let's get down to business," Jeff said as he, coffee in hand, contacted Lieutenant Richardson on the secure phone.

(Note: Various agencies have slightly different methods to teach building entry, and to practice for an oncoming high-level entry. A building entry during wartime, or a domestic building entry, will, obviously, vary greatly. The type mockup Lieutenant Richardson is referring to in the next paragraph is frequently used to practice domestic building entry. The "house" is constructed of panels of a resistant material such as three-quarter inch plywood. These four feet by eight feet sheets of plywood, usually on small rollers, or sometimes fitted into slots into a concrete floor, can quickly be moved about to form walls, hallways, etc. to match the configuration of the building to be entered. Thus, the entry team will know and feel comfortable with the layout of the real building they are about to enter. Everyone is assigned specific duties, and those duties are practiced, ad nauseam. However, the plan has a distinct tendency to go to shit as soon as you set foot through the door, but at least you know where you're going — if the informant didn't lie to you, or you didn't wind up, somehow, with the wrong building plans. Murphy. But a team that works together and becomes a whole, stands an excellent chance of overcoming "our friend." Improvise, adapt and overcome. Sometimes, with a well-bonded team, those three innocent-sounding words happen between one running step and the next.)

"Sir, we managed to get the architect's drawing of Ingles' house, and have configured our mock-up to match. But the drawing doesn't show the sub-basement Mrs. Madison mentioned in the interview. I'm a little confused by her description of the area..."

Jeff thought for a moment, bringing Jill's memory of the area to the fore. "The wall in the den that's farthest from the stairs — the whole wall — slides four feet to the right. There's a door behind the exposed section. Ingles has the key on the same ring with his car and house keys. The wall is thick and heavily insulated. Its door opens onto a set of wide steps leading straight down about twenty feet into the first room. The stairs have two landings. This room has a couple of couches, a bed and some overstuffed chairs, plus a couple of ... benches and other paraphernalia used for sex.

"Ninety degrees to the right is a door that goes down a hallway and opens into a lab — one big room with a small storage room opening on the right wall, and a smaller storage area opening on the left wall. Nothing else that way. Now, back to the first room. Straight through that room on the wall opposite the stairs is another big room built in an 'L' shape. There are several cages in there, and other, uh ... pieces of equipment to torment the prisoners when Ingles chooses to do so," Jeff said, noting the flinch that Bill almost covered up.

"Okay, Sir," Richardson said, "Let me repeat so that I'll know I have everything right." He hadn't bothered to wonder how Jeff had gotten the information so much more clearly than Jill had been able to communicate to the lieutenants during the interview, indeed, he usually expected the major to understand things better than others did.

When Richardson had finished, "Yeah, that's it," Jeff said.

"Sir, we don't have time to set up the house for another level. We'll just attach some pretend steps, then configure the additional rooms to represent the sub-basement. That sound good enough to you, Sir?"

"That'll work," Jeff said. "Going in as late as we are, plus with the snowstorm, maybe Ingles won't be 'entertaining, ' and he'll be the only one in the house."

"Yeah, and if frogs could fly," the lieutenant laughed. "We'll hope for that, though. In the meantime, we'll train as if the place will be full of his cronies and they're all armed. Oh yeah, Sir, what about a key to the cages?"

Jeff thought for a moment. "I don't think Mrs. Madison knows where it's kept. We'll just have to wing it if there are prisoners. Bring something to cut through the locks, or bars, just in case. We should be to the base in about three hours," Jeff said. "I'll need a sit-down with you and Sergeant Gomez. Lieutenants Campbell and Fisher are going with us. Campbell will be in charge of securing Ingles' computer drives and information along those lines; assume that Fisher will handle the women if there are any in the cages. Assign her an entry position and an entry job as you see fit. Captain Madison will be with me on the entry and will be an observer."

"Uh, Sir, we have someone designated for the computer systems already..."

"Bring him too. He can take care of any recordings that Ingles has made and anything else that crops up, but I want Campbell to work with the computer systems. We'll see how he does," Jeff finished as he looked at Campbell, who had heard every word spoken.

"Who do you have for the alarm system?" Jeff went on. "I have the code Ingles was using when Mrs. Madison was there, but he may have changed it since then."

"Well, the same guy I just mentioned. Mrs. Madison remembered the name and model on the keypad that Ingles has in the closet just inside the front door. Haskins has been practicing on a similar unit, and can have it bypassed in ten seconds. He can bypass a system he's not that familiar with in less than thirty seconds. This system has a thirty-second period after opening the front door to allow for the code to be entered, but if Ingles has changed the code, it won't make any difference to Haskins; just take a few seconds longer."

Lieutenant Richardson had noted that Major Matthews hadn't mentioned what he wanted Campbell to do on building entry, and he knew the major well enough to know that the omission wasn't a slip. Richardson would treat Campbell like a computer guru and assign his entering position as next to last. He would also assign someone to keep Campbell from getting his ass killed if things went to shit.

"We'll talk more when I get there," Jeff said.

"Yes, Sir," Richardson replied as he broke the connection.

A few minutes later, Richardson had both Fisher's and Campbell's files in front of him. He quickly scanned Campbell's. Very basic familiarization with operating procedures, rank, firearms, and physical training. Just enough to keep him from pissing off his superiors by failing to salute someone of higher rank, running his mouth at the wrong time — that sort of thing. Not much effort had been spent in making him a fighting man. He was a computer geek, plain and simple — though a damned smart one, he thought as he closed the file and picked up Fisher's.

He had seen her on the firing range from time to time, but she hadn't been around the base much. Hmmm,  he thought, she graduated college at twenty-one with a master's in anthropology. No slouch there. Off planet, she's been on three extended missions and a couple of shorter ones, but she hasn't seen combat. Looks like the colonel has been concentrating on using her expertise in her own field. She's been with some real shitheads, though. Wagner is ... what? An archeologist, I think. Yeah, that's his bailiwick. Oh yeah, that's Doctor Wagner. I remember someone griping about him insisting on the title. He's so full of himself that he's probably positive his shit doesn't stink. He's also a smart son-of-a-bitch, it looks like. He damn sure has enough education and a whole string of published articles — none in the last few years, though. It must be a real pisser to not be able to publish the things he's found out on his missions,  Richardson thought as he chuckled. Yeah, serves the bastard right. Well, if Fisher has survived this asshole, and the Major wants her on the mission, she's bound to be okay. I'll put her with the two who are assigned to take Ingles. There might be a woman with him, if not, Fisher will get to help take the son-of-a-bitch down, anyway. Might use up some of her pent-up frustrations from having to deal with Wagner. Yeah, that'll work. All Ingles has to do is survive. If his balls don't work, who gives a shit?

Lieutenant Richardson secured the files, then stood for a second, thinking. The team worked all night. I'll send them to take a nap until Major Matthews gets here. Knowing him, he'll want to practice at least once with building entry. I can nap for a couple of hours, too. Hopefully, the major will let us take another short rest before we have to get on the plane to go to North Dakota, if not, we'll sack out for the short time it will take us to get there. Sleep and eat any chance you can,  he thought, for you might not get the chance later.

Richardson gave the sergeant his orders, grabbed an energy bar, left word to be awakened when the major's plane was on final approach, and was walking out of his office, his butt dragging, when he met the colonel. "Let's go back inside," the colonel said as he motioned with his hand.

(Note: The story is set in a parallel universe where, from time to time, there will be subtle differences in history, i.e., it has an alternate history to a slight extent. Here, a flight of F-14s had been forced into emergency ground attacks using only their 20 mm canons to cover the extraction of a downed F-111 crew in Libya in 1986. This resulted in all F-14s being modified to effectively perform ground attack missions when necessary, but years earlier than was actually the case, and the pilots trained accordingly.)

Back in the office, the colonel tossed a thick file on the lieutenant's desk, "I knew Madison's name sounded familiar. The Navy had his file locked," he said, grinning. "Well, they thought it was locked. Might want to glance through it. Our additions are in the back. Seems like he has been, at least peripherally, in our line of work longer than any of us except the General, and has kept that a secret from everyone who didn't need to know, including Major Matthews and Mr. Wainwright. We'll condition him anyway, but he's already proven that he can keep a secret. Seems like he has actually worked to support our operations a few times, without his knowing it, of course. Since he's going to be with you on this mission, I thought you might want to know who you're taking with you."

Richardson knew what "glance through" meant when the colonel said it. Cup of strong coffee in hand, and the pot on the desk beside him, the lieutenant began to study Madison's file.

Feet propped on his desk, the file in his lap, he had spent over a half hour studying everything in the file. Looking at the empty pot, he called for another as he looked back through the file, then reread the account of one of the missions. Madison had been a busy boy. One of the things that had caught Richardson's attention was a cover mission of Madison's that went to shit. In the end, that mission had become something else, entirely.

An operative, accompanied by two young women that the guy had chosen to bring out with him, had been pursued by a number of people. Madison had whittled down the opposition, destroying their equipment and killing all but a handful who doggedly continued chasing the operative and the women into the nearby mountains.

Now on foot, the three would have been soon killed, but Madison kept on — one time too many. He came in too low and slow, and one of the bad guys had gotten him with a SAM. Madison had managed to gain enough altitude before the missile caught him, though, and he and his RIO had punched out. The operative and the women had found them thirty minutes later.

Hounded by their pursuers, Madison had set up an ambush. With the weapons the operative and the women had, plus the two 9 mm pistols that Madison and his RIO carried, they managed to whittle the attackers down to three, but Madison's RIO and the operative had been wounded in the exchange of fire. The RIO received an arm wound that wasn't too bad, but the operative had been hit in the upper thigh.

They struggled through the mountains for the next three days trying to keep away from their pursuers — most of the time with Madison carrying the operative. Finally, when the helicopter arrived at the prearranged pickup site for the operative, all five were half-starved and exhausted — but alive, thanks to Madison and his RIO.

Richardson turned back to the copies of birth certificates at the end of the file. He had wondered about them when he first thumbed through the file, but now he understood why they were there. Chuckling, he closed the file, dropped his feet from his desk and sat thinking as he absently neatened the folder in front of him. There were five birth certificates. Two listing one woman as the mother, three listing the other woman as the mother. The father was the same for all five. Looks like the operative really wanted those women to come back with him, and they showed their appreciation, he thought with a grin. And Madison got a couple more medals out of that mission. More medals that he couldn't even tell his wife about, let alone brag about to anyone.

He'll do,  the lieutenant thought with a grin. Standing, he locked the file away, and looked at his watch. I still have time for... 

"Sir, we've got something I need you to look at," Sergeant Gomez said as he walked in.

"I thought you were taking a nap," Richardson snapped.

"Haven't made it yet, Sir. As soon as we get this taken care of, I'll sack out."

"Okay. But if we both don't get some sleep, we're going to fuck up tonight."

"Yes, Sir. But, look here, Sir," the sergeant said as he spread out a rough drawing of Ingles' house on the lieutenant's desk.

-------

"I just saw a sign advertising a truck stop twenty miles ahead. There will be plenty of room to park this thing, and we can eat lunch in the restaurant," Fred said as they rolled down the road in the Tourmaster.

Jessica turned back to look at the other women, a slight frown on her face. Carla spoke up, "Isn't it about time for another rest area? Let's just find one of those, and we can fix something in the galley."

"Five miles ahead," Jessica said a few minutes later after checking her map and the next mile post number.

"Okay. Sounds good," Fred said, wondering why all of a sudden, they didn't want to eat out. Yeah, it's a truck stop, and sometimes they can be a little noisy, but the food is usually good. Oh, well, maybe they just don't want to be around a bunch of truckers. Whatever. But I need to stop and walk around a bit. I've been tense all morning with this rig. It drives like a dream, but I'm not used to it.

In the rest area a few minutes later, Fred got out to mosey around the lot as the women prepared lunch. Carla turned to her daughter. "Show it to us."

Jessica already had the web site up. "Right here," she said as they sat down near her to look at the screen. "It says they have paddle boats and canoes. If we get there in time, we can have a ball this afternoon before dark, but if we spend time fooling around in a restaurant, we won't have much time after we get to the campgrounds."

"I don't know," Carla said, "I think he took to heart what that salesman said about not being a road warrior. He wants us to relax on the trip, and he seems to be getting tired for some reason."

"He's uptight driving this outfit, I think," Jessica said. "Maybe we need to get out and kick a dent in the side, or something so he can relax and not worry about the first ding on the new rig," she joked. "I felt that way when I got on one of those new tractors that Jeff bought us; I didn't even want to get it dirty." Then frowning, "Can you drive the Tourmaster, Mom?"

"Oh, come on. You've seen me drive an eighteen-wheeler. This is a hell of a lot smaller than that, plus it's an automatic." Carla thought for a moment, then amended, "Well, maybe not that much smaller after you add in the length of the PT Cruiser we're towing behind us," she finished, grinning.

"Yeah, I know, but maybe he needs someone to spell him for a little while."

Carla stared back at her daughter. "And hurt his ego? Not on your life. I'll drive some later in the vacation. Not on the first day. He's a man. He's got to do it. He'll calm down when he quits worrying so much about the new rig."

"But..."

"We'll let him go at his own pace. He's trying to do as much as he can to make us enjoy this trip. I think we'll be there in time today, but if not, we can paddle around the lake tomorrow, or the next day, as far as that is concerned. We're in no hurry. Besides, this is just the second time we've stopped, and the first time was only for fifteen minutes at the other rest area."

"I know. It's just..."

"On second thought, we might not want to tire him out too much with paddle boats or canoes. This is Audrey's night."

"My night?"Audrey broke in.

"Sure, your first time with Fred," Carla said.

Audrey was shaking her head. After a moment of thought, "But I want you two there with me. I mean, I haven't had a man in four years; besides, he'll kill me with that thing. I won't be able to take him for long."

"We need to be cooking," Carla said getting up. "Soup and sandwiches okay with you two?"

"Great," both women answered.

The meal started, Audrey continued. "You told me that you were both together when he made love to you. Why should I be alone? We're supposed to be a team, right? We're his ... women. We all need to be there together. I might be a little embarrassed, but I want you two with me."

Carla leaned over and briefly touched her lips to Audrey's. "We'll be there with you if that's what you want. But that big ol' teddy bear would never hurt you. Of course, hurting you or not, walking tomorrow will remind you of him every step you take," Carla finished with a giggle.

All of them in a good mood, they were laughing when Fred came back inside after his short walk. "What's so funny?" he asked, a grin on his face.

"Oh, we were just talking about walking," Carla mysteriously said. Somehow that set off the giggles again.

Women are strange,  Fred thought as he headed for the bathroom to wash up for lunch.

-------

Lieutenant Richardson, Jeff and Bill stood just inside the blacked-out mockup and watched the team work. (Bill had spent his first ten minutes on the base with a strange machine. He felt no different after the helmet was removed, but the tech just grinned at him, and told him the machine never failed.) Using the fourth generation and beyond night vision systems took a little getting used to for the newbies, but gone were the days when there was no depth perception — you could even read a map in total darkness with this equipment. The two new lieutenants had done a walk-through twice with the team, now this time it was at full speed and quiet.

"There will be snow on our feet," Jeff commented to Richardson as they watched Fisher and her two teammates glide down the hallway, the two men quickly ready at the doorway as Fisher flattened herself against the wall and reached for the doorknob.

"Yeah. No time to stomp it off before we enter the house, and we can't chance the noise, anyway. If there's hardwood in the house, the ice on our boots will make the floor slick, not to mention making a noise as we walk."

"Jill says there is carpet throughout the house, except in the kitchen and the lab. Also some decorative marble tile in an arc just inside the front door. Maybe she's right about the carpet," Jeff responded. "Otherwise, that's a long fucking hallway to walk down with our boots squeaking."

Campbell didn't have much to do, of course, until the house was clear and he could work on Ingles' computers. Jill had told Jeff she thought there were two in the lab, and one in Ingles' office. She knew Ingles used the one in his office for e-mails, but he had placed a compulsion on her to stay away from any of the computers, so she knew little else about their use.

She had been in his lab a number of times, though, and from her memories, Jeff knew why. Sometimes Ingles bent her over a bench or chair and fucked, her. Other times he had her give him a blowjob while he pretended to work at one of his computers, or on one of his projects.

-------

Everyone from the team was gathered around, including Lieutenants Fisher and Campbell. "All right," Jeff said. "We're as good as we're going to get." After asking for input from everyone, he looked at his watch. "Couple hours before we leave. Get a quick bite to eat, then sack out until the sergeant calls you."

Taking his own advice as they waited for the storm front to move closer, he headed for his bed.

He stripped his boots, socks, pants and shirt off. Dropping his black BDUs (Battle Dress Uniform) over a chair, he slid into bed wearing only his shorts and gray tee-shirt. He had just turned off the light when there were two sharp raps on his door. "Come," he said, raising his voice enough to be heard as he flipped the light back on, the sheet covering his lower body.

Fisher walked in and over to his bed. Holding an envelope out to him, "Sir, I was told to give you this."

What the fuck does the colonel want now? he grumped to himself as he tore the envelope open.

My Husband;

She is one of us. Please treat her accordingly.

Come back to me soon.

Di

Face blazing, Lieutenant Kayla Fisher sat on the side of the bed and removed her boots and socks. Standing, still refusing to look at him, she unbuttoned her shirt, shrugged it off and hung it over his clothes on the chair. Hesitating a second, she dropped her BDU pants and quickly added them to the other clothes. Clad in panties, bra and a gray tee-shirt like Jeff's, she grabbed the sheet, held it up and crawled over him onto the narrow bed.

Jeff, fighting to keep the grin off his face, reached up to turn the light off, then put his arm around her as she threw a leg over him, wiggled her head a little to find a comfortable pillow on his chest, and quietly sighed.

Jeff listened to her breathing become deeper as he forced himself to relax. The three hours he had slept last night were almost enough for him. A short nap now would get him through the night just fine. He could feel the breasts of the young woman as they pushed against his chest — a very pleasant feeling, indeed. He slept.


-------

Chapter 29


Traffic increased as they neared Jacksonville on I-10.

IN SIX-TENTHS OF A MILE, MERGE RIGHT ONTO I-295 TOWARD SAVANNAH!

Fred checked his mirrors and rearview camera screen, then eased into the exit lane. Just as the exit came up:

MERGE RIGHT!

"Yes, Dear," he said under his breath.

At that moment, several things happened at once. A lady was passing in the next lane to the left while having an argument with her husband on her cell phone. Suddenly realizing this was her exit, she swerved to the right, and since she was well above the speed that she could manage this, she jammed on her brakes, still waving her hands around as she shouted at the hapless husband on the other end of the conversation.

Fred was suddenly confronted with a vehicle that had crossed the double lines and road reflectors just as his exit lane split from the Interstate. Now the vehicle was in front of him and slowing alarmingly. Fred had been looking straight on down the lane at the road signs, but had caught the movement out of the corner of his eye when the woman had started to swerve in front of him. Before his conscious mind caught up with the situation, his foot hit the brake, and he yelled, "Hang on," while desperately hoping Carla and Audrey were belted in. He knew better than to try to swerve aside in the short distance he had; the rig would roll for sure. Another thought plagued him as he rode the brake; would the auxiliary braking system the dealer installed on the PT Cruiser work as it was designed to do, keeping the towed Cruiser from jack-knifing into them?

The woman, part of her mind suddenly snapping back to what she was doing as the blaring of a loud horn and the scream of big tires on the road, not to say anything about the approach of what looked like a giant wall behind her small car, finally did something right, and hit the accelerator. The gap between the Tourmaster's front bumper and the woman's small car narrowed to inches as Fred flinched in the driver's seat, before the car suddenly shot away.

Fred's mind had seemed to split between the rearview screen showing the PT Cruiser, and the vehicle he was about to run over. The cloud of blue smoke from the tires of the Cruiser, as well as the cloud produced by the big tires of the RV, billowed out behind them. Fortunately, there was no one following closely.

"Well, fuck. It actually worked," he said as Jessica snapped her head around from the near-crash, wondering what he was talking about. Having pulled trailers on the farm, it only took a second for her to figure out what he meant and focus on the rear screen and the smoke behind them.

"The Cruiser didn't jackknife," she said. "The auxiliary braking system worked like it was supposed to."

"Yep, sure did," Fred agreed. "Everybody okay?" he called out to the two behind them.

"We're fine," Carla answered back. "But I'm glad we were using our plastic go-cups. If they had been glass, we would be cleaning up a mess. I don't even know where they went."

"They're under my feet up here," Jessica said.

The small car pulled onto the shoulder of the long ramp and stopped. Fred eased the rig in behind and turned on his emergency flashers.

"Stay here," he told the women as they unbuckled. "I'm just going to see if she is all right, and check the hitch on the Cruiser. That hitch probably went through hell."

"No," Carla said as she stood. "You check the Cruiser. She doesn't need to see a guy your size looming in her window right now. I'll go check on her."

Grudgingly, Fred knew she was right, for visions of snatching the silly bitch through the window weren't all that far from his mind at the moment.

A few minutes later, they were all back inside and standing together as they watched the woman pull onto the lane and drive away.

"I take it she was okay," Fred said.

"Yeah," Carla said as she came closer to hug him. "If you count being as white as a sheet being okay," she chuckled, looking up into his face. "I think you scared her out of using a cell phone while driving — at least for the moment," she laughed. "All she could do was apologize and cry. She said she thought she was going to die, and probably would have if that horn hadn't jarred her out of her argument with her husband."

"You okay?" Fred said to Audrey as Carla stood back from her hug.

"Well, other than about peeing in my pants," she said as she let out a short, nervous giggle. "But I guess I'm really proud of our man, right now," she finished as she threw her arms around him.

"It must not take much, then," Fred laughed as he hugged her back.

"Maybe not," Jessica broke in. "But I suspect that if one of us had been driving, someone would have been calling 911 about now."

"Bullshit," Fred said as he slid into the driver's seat. "Buckle up everyone," he needlessly said as they all took their seats.

Oddly, or maybe not so oddly, Fred seemed more relaxed than he had been all day as he checked behind them and pulled back onto the road, more confident of the rig now. "How much farther?" he asked Jessica.

Jessica touched the GPS screen. "Eleven point three miles until the exit," she answered. "The camp isn't far from there." Flipping to another screen, she continued, "We've averaged fifty-two miles per hour, even with our stops." Then looking back at her mother, "We'll have plenty of time. There's a lot of daylight left in the day."

-------

Fred eased the rig to a stop by the office. "I'll get us a nice place by the lake," he said as he stood.

"I'll go with you," Audrey said. "Since I own a camp, too, they'll probably give us a discount."

Fred beat her to the door and tilted her chin up for a gentle kiss. "No, you gals stay here and figure out what we're having for supper. I'll take care of this."

Audrey started to object, but instead, just said, "Okay."

Inside, Fred surveyed the map of the camp that the manager was showing him. They had already looked at it on the computer during a rest stop, and the women wanted a site as close to the lake as they could get. "What have you got that's right on the lake?" Fred asked.

"Well, you've pretty much got your pick today..."

"How about that one on the far right?" Fred said, pointing to the map. "Is it available?"

"Yeah, all of those are," the manager replied, sweeping his finger down the lots. "How long you gonna stay?"

"Put us down for two nights. If we decide to stay longer, I'll let you know in plenty of time."

After the transaction, "We don't want to be around a bunch of people who are making a racket," Fred tried to casually comment.

"Well, quiet time is between 10:00 P.M. and 6:00 A.M.," the manager started until he realized the denomination of the bill Fred slid across the counter. Since Fred had already paid with a credit card, it was obvious what the bill was for. "Uh, I can start filling the row from the other end, just as easily," he said as the money disappeared.

"I would really appreciate it," Fred responded, as he thought about Jessica's announcement to the world as she orgasmed. "We're on this trip to relax. The quieter, the better." And, besides, I'd really hate to have to try to explain to the cops why she's screaming at the top of her lungs,  he thought.

-------

"Twenty-three L," Fred said as he slid into the driver's seat and handed the printout to Jessica.

Jessica eagerly grabbed the map of the campsites and traced the route with her finger that the manager had marked. "Two intersections, then take a left. When we get to the lake, we take a right and go to the end."

A couple of minutes later, "Oh, look," from Jessica, "two paddle boats out on the lake. Can we do that?" she said as she turned to Fred.

"We can do anything we want to," Fred said as he glanced in the direction she had pointed.

Shortly, they passed the docks where the paddle boats and canoes were kept. "They have four-person boats," Audrey said.

"Yes," Jessica let out.

Fred, not quite sure why she should be so excited about a paddle boat, took the turn and started checking pad numbers for their campsite. Sure enough, theirs was on the far end.

Fred eased onto the concrete. The rig was barely stopped when Audrey headed for the door. "I'll get us hooked up," she said over her shoulder, and was out the door.

Fred sat chuckling as he looked toward the open door. "What are you laughing about?" Jessica said, fighting to not laugh with him.

"Oh, nothing," Fred said as he wondered if he would ever have to hook up the RV as long as Audrey was around, "I'm just in a good mood."

"Would chicken appeal to your palate tonight?" Carla said to Fred as she stood looking in the freezer.

Glancing at Jessica, Fred answered, "How about a quick sandwich now to tide us over before we check out the paddle boats," he grinned as the young woman's smile suddenly doubled. "We can cook the chicken on the grill later tonight."

"Yes," Jessica hissed out again as she grabbed him for a hug.

-------

There were two loud raps and Sergeant Gomez walked through the door; leaving it open, he took the couple of steps necessary, turned right, and froze.

"It's time, Major ... and, uh, Lieutenant," he almost stammered before quickly catching himself as he recognized Lieutenant Fisher in the dim light.

Jeff flipped the light on. Fisher, still sprawled across Jeff, opened a red eye and glared at the sergeant for a moment before her expression changed and she smiled.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Gomez said. "I didn't realize the major had company."

"No use apologizing, Sergeant. You're only doing what you were supposed to do. And besides, I'm decent."

"Yes, Ma'am." Then focusing on Jeff's grinning face, "Sir, the lieutenant would like to show you something before we board the plane."

"Fine, Sergeant. I'll take care of it."

When Gomez was gone, "What's he so embarrassed about?" Fisher propped herself up on Jeff's chest and asked. "We're not doing anything wrong. The only rules we have here about fraternization are between enlisted and officers. Even that isn't enforced unless they become blatant about it. And besides that, I've never been with anyone since I came here."

Jeff chuckled. "I suspect that it was more about me than you. He and I have known each other for years. You're the first woman to 'sleep' with me at the base, and he knows it. Of course, all we did was sleep, but he doesn't know that."

"Sorry, Major. Diana was explicit about what I should do. I just..."

Jeff pulled her face down to his and kissed her. "My Queen is sometimes ... unfathomable."

"Your Queen?" she sighed, her mind determined to remember the kiss forever.

"We'll talk about that after the mission. Can you get some time off to come back to the retreat with me?" he said, knowing that arguing with Diana about another woman was worse than useless.

"Well, Sir, I, uh ... Diana already thought of that. First thing I did when we got here was to check with my boss. I haven't taken any time off since I was recruited, so I have six weeks R and R coming. I can stay for a while ... uh, if you want me to, that is."

"That sounds good, Lieutenant. But let's put this conversation off until after we take care of Ingles."

Fisher, as if suddenly realizing where she was, blushed again. "Uh, I guess we need to get up," she said raising the sheet. Of course, that allowed her to look between them at the long bulge in Jeff's shorts.

"I'm not going to rape you, Lieutenant," Jeff said as he smiled at her.

"Uh ... no, Sir," she managed as the sight seemed to burn into her mind. Hoping that her bra and tee-shirt would keep him from noticing her suddenly swollen nipples, she scrambled over him and off the bed. As she picked up her pants, Jeff stood and pulled her to him. Turning her around as she continued to clutch her pants with one hand, he lifted her chin and gently kissed her for a moment. "Kayla, Diana has never been wrong about something like this. Let's just get through the mission, then we'll go home and discuss things. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Well, that leaves me wide open,  she thought as she tried to get her mind off the man whose very spirit seemed to call to her.

-------

Jeff sat at Lieutenant Richardson's desk reading Bill's file. "I already knew about him landing his crippled Tomcat on the carrier, and the doctors managing to save his RIO because of him refusing to punch the two of them out, but I didn't know about him walking out of that mess with an operative on his back. Makes me even more proud to know the man," he said as he finished. Looking up, he focused on Richardson's tired face, and frowned.

"How much sleep have you and Sergeant Gomez had?"

"Not much," Richardson sighed.

"All right. Is our equipment aboard?"

Richardson nodded. "What we're taking with us is aboard. The RVs and the rest of our equipment are already at the staging area."

"Good. I want you and Gomez on the plane right now. Find a seat, strap in and sack out. And I mean sack out. I expect both of you to be sound asleep before the rest of us get to the plane. We'll wake you when we get to North Dakota. Lieutenant Fisher and I will get the team aboard, and take care of any last-minute details."

Richardson stood. "Thank you, Sir," he said as he saluted.

"Get."

"Yes, Sir."

-------

Fred changed into his bathing suit in the half-bath while Jessica went on to the other bathroom. Finished dressing, he stepped out of the bathroom and entered the galley area. Carla was slicing a tomato for a sandwich, but stopped when she saw him. She just stood looking as the smile on her face got bigger.

"Oh, boy," she quietly said. "You do look good in that suit."

Fred looked back at her with a half-grin on his face, wondering about women. "You've seen me nude a bunch of times. What's so special about a bathing suit?"

Carla, still holding the knife where it stopped against the cutting board, said, "You really need to look in the full mirror. There isn't an ounce of fat on you, and..." she started to say his muscles made her wet, but stopped before she made a fool out of herself. " ... And you just look good," she finished, her face feeling flushed as she suddenly resumed slicing the tomato.

Jessica stood looking at Fred, totally agreeing with her.

-------

After a snack, as Fred called it — two sandwiches, a big pile of chips and the dip to go with them — Fred pushed back from the table. "You two need to get your suits on. Jessica and I will clean up the table while you change."

Carla glanced at Audrey. "We'll do the paddle boats tomorrow. Why don't you two go on? Audrey and I will have a nice talk while you're on the lake."

"You sure?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, we'll do it tomorrow," Audrey spoke up.

"Let's hit it, kid," Fred said grabbing Jessica's hand.

Walking toward the dock, Jessica kept glancing at Fred. "Are you ignoring me? You keep looking away when you say something to me. Are you mad at me for wearing this bikini?"

Fred stopped and glanced at her body for a second, then stared at her eyes for a moment before he chuckled and said, "Baby, as they say, there isn't enough material in that thing to make a decent-sized handkerchief. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Far from it. But those beautiful breasts of yours have a nice little bounce to them with each step you take. That makes me think of how nice they looked as you rode me the other night. And all that leads to my dick getting into the act. Now what do you think people will say when I walk down to that dock with a hard-on?" he finished.

Jessica blushed — a totally nice effect with what she was wearing. Fred felt his cock begin to swell. "Look, why don't we jog the rest of the way?" he desperately said. "Otherwise, I'm going to have to go somewhere and sit down for a while until things go back to the way they were."

Jessica giggled and reached for him, but Fred jerked away before her hand could caress him, and started to jog, both of them laughing.

Shortly, they walked by a small dock and stopped at an area where the paddle boats were lined up on a little beach. "Which one do you want?" Fred asked as they looked at several varieties. One was little more than a couple of small pontoons with a flat surface atop and two seats for the riders. Another, even boxier than the first, would carry four riders, but had a canopy for shade.

"That one," Jessica said pointing to a paddle boat with a sleek design that almost looked like a fancied-up, small convertible car sitting atop two brightly painted kayaks. Soon, the two wearing life jackets, were wet and headed across the lake under pedal power.

"Remember," Fred laughed after they were several hundred yards out, "we have to pedal back, too. It looks like a long way over there."

Jessica stopped for a moment. "Uh, maybe you need to let me do the work. Momma will kill me if you go to sleep on Audrey tonight," she worriedly said.

Fred grinned back at her. "No way."

Following the direction of his eyes, she threw her shoulders back and her breasts out as he openly admired them. "I hope you have some left for me tonight," she quietly said as she reached over to caress the bulge in his suit. "I'm so horny I'm about to die."

"With whatever Jeff did to us," Fred said, "I guarantee there will be plenty left for my beautiful lady."

"Your 'lady, '" she repeated. "I like the sound of that." Then, "Come on, Mr. Muscles, we've got time to pedal to the other side and back before dark."

Laughing, the two began frantically pedaling, the muscles standing out in Jessica's shapely legs.

-------

The ride out in the big plane had been rough. If the front wasn't there yet, Jeff didn't want to be on the plane when the front did get there. Apparently they hit a gust just as they were about to touch down, because the landing was teeth jarring.

They were met with the SUVs. A little later they were at their staging area with all their equipment loaded. Now the team was sitting around drinking coffee and telling "war" stories while they waited.

Jeff stood looking out the door as the snow picked up. "The power company?" he said as he glanced at Lieutenant Richardson who was standing beside him.

"They're within minutes of the substation. Our man has just checked in. He's riding in the truck with the power guy."

"Was there any trouble with that? I got in on this so late. I didn't even think to ask."

"Well, the power company didn't want to play ball to start with, but the general made a call. It's one of the supervisors who wound up coming out. All of a sudden, butter won't melt in his mouth."

"He knows that I want it to look like the power is out because of the storm? In other words, a circuit breaker kicking in and out because of downed lines?"

"Yeah, it will kick out three times. The third time it will stay off until we give him the word to turn it back on. Our man will be right beside him, and he's familiar with the setup. If the power guy balks at the last minute, our guy will stun him and take over."

The wind picked up, the gusts staggering the two men standing in the door. The heavens seemed to open up and a wall of white obscured the lit parking lot outside the warehouse.

"Time to go," Jeff said.

"Load up," the lieutenant yelled to the team.

-------

The vehicles were spaced out about a block apart. Each all-wheel drive SUV was a different color and bore civilian plates. They had little trouble on the fresh snow with the big-cleat snow tires, but traffic was very light and would shortly be less until the streets were plowed out again. Visibility was rapidly going to nil as the wind picked up. Before they got there, Jeff had begun to worry that he had waited too long.

With two blocks to go before the turn, they stopped, each vehicle pulling to the side of the street.

"Now," Jeff said.

Lieutenant Richardson repeated the one word into his mike.

A minute or so later, the street lights dimmed, then went out. Ten seconds later, they came back on for a few seconds, then dimmed and went out again. Thirty seconds later, they came on bright, then went off and stayed off.

"They're back in the truck and waiting," the lieutenant said.

"Let's go," Jeff acknowledged.

Turning down the street into the cul-de-sac with Ingles' house at the end, they eased along, lights out — well lights out that you could see with your naked eyes. With their night vision, augmented by the exterior infrared, they had some vision in the heavy snowfall. The other vehicles tightened up, now only a half block apart.

"There," Jeff said as they got to the circle at the end of the street. "There's his drive. At least it looks right by the photos."

"Yeah, that's it," the lieutenant said as the driver turned in. "With his house set back like this, no one should be able to see us even if it weren't snowing," Lieutenant Richardson said.

"Yeah, but Mr. Murphy might be waiting around the corner," Jeff joked as the SUV crept up the drive.

By that time, the other SUVs had reduced the gap between each of them. As they stopped in the drive, doors quietly opened with no light showing. Two of the team, dressed in heavy all-white snow gear and armed with short-barreled and silenced submachine guns and a dart rifle that fired a tranquilizer, made their way to opposite sides of the big lawn. Near the hedges, they concealed themselves in the snow. Within minutes, someone could literally walk right by them and be unaware they were there. Another team member went to the back door and waited.

Ingles had a glassed-in porch that he used for a mud room. Sergeant Gomez pushed down gently on the door handle and it opened. As the rest of the team made their way quietly onto the porch, another knelt at the front door lock. A moment later, the lock turned. He looked around at the others. At Gomez' nod, he turned the knob and stepped through, silenced MP-5 leading the way.

They knew it would happen, yet the noise was jarring as the alarm began its high-pitched squeal of warning that they had thirty seconds before the siren would sound.

Lieutenant Fisher and the two team members she was assigned to assist walked quickly and as silently as they could manage down the short entrance hall, across the living room, then started down the long hallway toward Ingles' bedroom.

Jeff, having realized that entering the code that Jill remembered might lead to disaster if Ingles' had changed it, watched calmly as the tech opened the closet door in the entranceway, popped the cover to the alarm key entry box, and placed his equipment on it. Ten seconds later, the equipment beeped, the warning cut out, and the tech grinned. "Piece of cake," he quietly said.

Ingles, a light sleeper, had thought he had heard the alarm give its warning. But a few seconds later, the sound had stopped. Did I imagine it? he wondered as he sat up in bed. Yanking the bedside table drawer open, he grabbed his Glock and a flashlight.

Realizing that the night light in his bathroom wasn't on, and knowing there was supposed to be a storm sometime during the night, he hesitated.

The house was quiet as a tomb; the only sound the howling of the wind outside. But better safe than sorry. Ingles opened the bedroom door.

The two team members, both holding their silenced submachine guns, had positioned themselves and nodded to Fisher. She had plastered her back to the wall beside the door to stay out of the line of fire. Reaching out with her left hand, she had gently closed her fingers on the doorknob so she could turn it as quietly as possible, when the door opened.

Their plans suddenly turning to shit, Fisher rotated her body, bringing her right hand holding an electric stun gun up, and jammed it into the side of Ingles' neck as he stepped through the door. A split second before the stun gun hit him, Ingles saw Carter standing before him in the hallway. Whether he flinched from suddenly realizing that a man, dressed all in black, and wearing night vision gear was standing in front of him, or flinched from the nine hundred thousand volts from the stun gun ripping into his body, or whether he deliberately pulled the trigger on his own, was never determined. But he did pull the trigger.

The sound of the .40 caliber bullet firing in the hallway was deafening in the quietness. The bullet struck Carter almost dead center of his chest — well, more accurately, it struck his entry vest over the center of his chest. The entry vest, unlike the soft, concealable vest that Joyce had been wearing when she had been shot, was capable of shrugging off a high-powered rifle bullet. It's many layers of Kevlar with a middle layer of ceramic were designed such that the .40 caliber pistol bullet didn't even stagger Carter, but it almost got Ingles killed as both Carter and his partner came perilously close to ending Ingles' existence right there. The "whap" and flash of the stun gun in the darkness, saved him from two, three round bursts to the chest.

Ingles went rigid for a second, then like a puppet whose strings had been cut, collapsed in the hallway, the Glock thumping to the floor near him. Jones, kicked it aside for the moment.

Fisher, her ears ringing, and barely able to hear, grabbed Ingles' right hand and snapped a pair of handcuffs on it a second before Carter yanked Ingles' left hand around to her. A snick of the cuffs later, Ingles was secure.

"All clear. All clear," Jones repeated into his throat mike as Jeff, Bill, Lieutenant Richardson, Sergeant Gomez and two of the team slid to a halt near them.

"Anybody hurt?" Jeff said, even though Jones had just given the code that no one was hurt.

"Carter took one on the vest," Jones said, motioning to his partner.

"Ah, fuck. It wasn't anything," Carter said, shaking the heavy vest he wore. "Just a pistol round. Scared the shit out of me, though."

"Let me see," Jeff said, inspecting Carter's vest. "Yep," he said, picking out the flattened bullet with his finger nail. "Got yourself a souvenir," he said, handing Carter the projectile. "Sure you're okay?"

"Didn't even jar me, Major. I'm fine — after I change my shorts," he kidded.

"Ah, hell. Your shorts probably already had a racing stripe," Jones laughed as they rotated their MP-5s, suspended from a sling, to their backs and unceremoniously picked Ingles up to carry him into his bedroom. Dumping him on the bed, they set about securing him to it, the plan back on track after the little blip that was hardly worth mentioning, as far as they were concerned.



-------

Chapter 30

A little earlier:

Picking up the keys to the Cruiser, Fred casually walked to the door. "I've got an errand to run. Be back in a few minutes."

Carla, wiping the counter down in the galley, stopped to look at him. "Where are you going? I don't like for us to be separated this far from home. It makes me uncomfortable."

"I'm only going up the street a little way. I won't be long," he said as he stepped over to her for a hug. "I'll be back in thirty minutes."

Still uncomfortable with his leaving, she, nevertheless, hugged him. "Hurry back."

When the outside door closed after him, Jessica looked at her mother. "He's acting too casual. He's up to something."

Audrey walked over to the two women. "My ex used to sneak out and buy Playboy. I told him he didn't have to do that and I would even look at the pictures with him. I tried my best to be part of his life, but he..."

"We haven't been together long," Carla answered, "and with the farm, we've been too busy for him to go most anywhere by himself. If he wants to buy a girly magazine, he's welcome to do so. Heck, Jessica and I will be glad to give him a blowjob while he's looking at the pictures, if he wants us to," she said as she chuckled. "Right, Jess?"

"You bet," Jessica giggled. "I never thought of that. It would be fun."

"But I don't think that's what he went after," Carla continued. "We passed a mall up the road a little way, and I'll bet his trip has something to do with you," she said as she focused on Audrey. "We'll just act as if we haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary. We won't mess up his surprise."

"Me? Are you sure?"

Carla laughed. "No, but he had that oh-so-innocent look on his face. And this is your night, so..."

"My ex bought a Christmas present for me our first Christmas. From then on, he never bought me anything — any time of the year. I even had to put up the Christmas decorations myself while he bitched at me for doing it."

"You should have shot the bastard, instead of divorcing him," Jessica snarled.

Laughing, the women went back to their cleaning.

-------

Fred had returned, but hadn't said anything about his trip. Later, as they sat by the lake, he excused himself to go back in the RV for what the women assumed was a bathroom break. When he returned, he resumed his place and pulled them to him. The moon was up, but scattered clouds intermittently obscured it as the four sat on blankets and snuggled together. The gentle lapping of the lake only a few feet from them was a soothing sound, despite the barking of a dog somewhere in the distance.

"I keep listening for the phone to ring with a camper saying he had forgotten something, or had broken his lantern, or wanting some more firewood, — needing me to open the store for him. Also, I keep thinking I need to go to bed so I can get up at 4:30 to start a new day."

Audrey was leaning back against Fred's chest, his arms around her. He squeezed her gently for a second, "Yeah, that's the way it was for me when I first retired. Then I got my detective business going full-time, and the hours got worse. I eventually sold the business, and Brenda and I bought the Tourmaster, but she ... died before we got to do anything."

"But we have," Brenda insisted in his mind, the others hearing because of their contact with Fred. "I could be in that grave in Atlanta, instead of here with you. Even though I can't hold you in my arms, this beats the heck out of that hole in the ground," she finished.

Although she had kept her mental voice light, the sadness still came through a little, and she realized it. "Time to get going. We can't sit out here all night. Why don't you pick up that pretty woman and show her how Fred Wilson makes love?"

"Want to do that, Baby?" Fred whispered in Audrey's ear. "Or do you want some more time, and maybe, just sleep the way we did last night?"

Audrey turned around, coming to her knees and sitting back on her thighs facing him. Reaching over, she touched his face for a moment. "My husband made love to me several times before we said our vows, and for a few weeks after we were married. Then he seemed to tire of me, and there was just sex. After awhile, even that changed until he just used me to get off. I guess he never loved me."

Looking around at Jessica and Carla, then back at Fred, "I've been happier in the last couple of days than I can ever remember. I guess this could wind up being the way my marriage was, but I can almost ... feel your love for me, so I just can't believe it will ever go bad. I've never been a person who goes into things halfway, though. I felt something the first time I saw you. I love you — all of you," she said as she included Jessica and Carla with her eyes. "And Brenda," she said grasping Fred's hand. "I include you in there, too."

"We love you, too," Brenda assured her.

After a group hug, Audrey went on. "Uh, I know this sounds, maybe, a little selfish. But when we got married, Alex didn't carry me across the threshold. This isn't the same — I mean we aren't getting married, but well, I haven't had sex since I caught my husband with the teenybopper, and I..."

Fred stood and pulled her to her feet. Scooping her into his arms, he gently kissed her and walked toward the RV. "Close enough," he whispered to her. "Close enough."

Audrey buried her face against his chest and savored the moment as Fred stepped up into the RV with her held tightly in his arms. He smells like roses — no, the RV smells like roses, she thought as she looked up at a grinning Fred.

The others had gathered up blankets and cups, and were right behind them.

"Put me down," Audrey whispered as soon as they were in the living room. "Look," she called out to Carla and Jessica as they came in. "Look at the rose petals," she said, pointing to the floor.

Audrey, joined by the other two women, quickly followed the trail of rose petals into the bedroom.

"Wait, I was going to carry you in there," Fred got out too late, but the women were already in the bedroom.

"Oh, wow," Jessica said in a loud voice as Fred walked in behind them.

There were four vases with two dozen red roses per vase sitting about the bedroom. Fred had the florist pluck the petals from another two dozen and put them in a plastic bag for him. While the women thought he had gone to the bathroom, he had gotten the roses out of the Cruiser. Putting the vases out, he had then covered the bed with rose petals. Having some left, he used them to make a trail to the bedroom.

"There are four vases, Fred," Brenda said in his mind.

Now why should I stop buying you roses just because you're dead? he teased.

"I wish I could kiss you," Brenda said as she snuffled in his mind.

Me too, Baby. Me, too.

Jessica, followed by Carla, kissed Fred with enthusiasm, both mother and daughter sniffling a little. When Fred turned to Audrey, he realized that she was openly crying.

"I've never gotten roses before," she sniffed.

Suddenly she was in Fred's arms, hugging him so tightly that neither of them could breathe properly.

"Then I'll have to make sure this happens again," Fred said as he kissed the top of her head.

"Check your card," Fred said as he directed the women to the vase meant for them.

Carla pulled her card from the little holder buried in the flowers. Opening the tiny envelope, she read:

I love you with all my heart and soul.

Will you marry me when we get back to Colorado?

Fred

Carla sank back to sit on the bed. "Yes," she whispered looking up at him, "but..." she finished, thinking of her daughter.

Fred smiled at her, "Wait," he said simply.

"Jessica, you're next. That one," he said, pointing.

Jessica's reaction to an identical card was a little different. She launched herself at him saying, "Yes, yes, yes," until he stopped her repetitions with a kiss.

"Now you, Audrey," the big man said, motioning to the third vase.

Hers was, of course, identical. "Oh, my." She said as her hand holding the card shook. Turning to Fred, she asked, "Are you sure? I mean..."

"I'm positive. How about you?"

"Oh, yes," she said running to him. Jessica barely got out of the way in time. "Oh, yes. Oh, yes."

Laughing, Fred kissed her too.

"Is Brenda okay with this?" Carla asked, her voice quiet.

"Ask her?" Fred said, holding out his hand. "Both of you as well."

All the women touched him. "I love each of you, and I feel Fred's love for each of us. Jeff and Diana have a beautiful living room that's just made for weddings, and I know they would be thrilled to let us use it. I would be honored to have the three of you join Fred and me in our marriage."

After the rain of tears, the spell was broken for a few minutes because they had to take a short shower to get rid of the insect repellent they had used outdoors, but the shower lightened the mood, and the women teasingly wouldn't let Fred shower with anyone.

After his shower, Fred had tied a towel around his waist because all the jiggling titties had produced the obvious result, and said result wasn't going down anytime soon.

With all of them gathered around, a laughing Jessica snatched his towel away. When Fred realized that Audrey had grown quiet, he stopped his play to look at her as she stood staring at him. She wasn't actually shaking her head, but she might as well have been, for it was obvious she was beginning to have doubts. This was the first time she had gotten a good look at him in the light with him standing, and he was even bigger than she thought.

Jessica instantly changed from a laughing teenager to a caring mate. Moving to stand beside Audrey, she reached out to touch the other woman's face. "I wasn't a virgin when we made love, and we only did it one night so far, but he didn't hurt me. All I could think about was having him fully inside me. I walked funny the next day, though," she said with a little giggle, "but I was ... heck, I guess you could say I was proud. Still am proud that we made love; proud that he's our man."

A look of concern touched Jessica's face as she continued, "Forget Alex; he was an ass. I think from the way you talk about him that he would probably hurt you if he had a cock like Fred's, but Fred will never hurt you; he'll just make you come about a gillion times," she finished with a giggle.

Her fear lessened, Audrey grinned at Jessica, only to shriek as Fred picked her up and fell into bed with her among the rose petals. Instead of her mind worrying as Fred gradually worked toward the act of sex itself, he began blowing raspberries on her sides — an area that was extremely ticklish to her. Somewhere the raspberries changed to kisses, and the kisses were suddenly on her lower stomach and headed southward. As his mouth neared its goal, her hands found his hair and she held her breath. This man, unlike her ex, had no problem with pleasing her with his mouth; on the contrary, he loved the taste of an excited woman and set about to prove it.

After a short bit of teasing, he reached his goal. Audrey's ass lifted from the bed; a moment later her knees slammed against the side of his head, but he was prepared for them. Taking a gulping breath, her body went rigid, arching upward, and the most intense orgasm she had ever had in her life — even better than the ones she had given herself last night — washed over her. It seemed like it would never end. Finally she relaxed to the bed, sweat already coating her brow, a silly grin on her face — then he began gently sucking on her clit, interspersed with batting it with his tongue.

Amazed, she felt herself already nearing orgasm again — and again — and again. Later, she didn't even realize when he had moved his body between her legs and held himself at her entrance with most of his weight supported on his forearms. She tasted herself on his mouth as he kissed her, though. Somehow, it made her even more excited. She felt the pressure at her entrance increase, then the head of his big cock popped in, a momentary uncomfortable feeling that quickly went away as he waited for her to become accustomed to his size. He pushed up a little higher on his arms, and she briefly wondered why, then as Carla's and Jessica's lips fastened to her nipples, gently pulling and sucking on them, she knew.

She had never had a woman do this to her before — had never wanted it done, but as Carla and Jessica nursed her, it was more than just a sexual act; although, that part was building her pleasure as well. It was obviously an act of love from the women. She groaned as he pushed his cock slowly deeper, opening her up. Soon, he was past where her husband had been able to go. Her womb seemed to welcome him as he spread the depths of her pussy to push against her cervix. Her legs came up to lock around his hips. He pulled back a little and then pressed again into her, setting up a rhythm. Shortly, she screamed into his mouth, clinging to him, as a series of orgasms tumbled through her body and mind, one peak right after the other.

The two women stretched out beside Audrey, whispering encouragement into her ears, telling her how much they loved her, all the while kneading her breasts, interspersed with occasional tweaks of her nipples.

Afterward, she could not remember how long Fred made love to her, but the orgasms seemed to run into each other until they became continuous. He sped up, then held tight against her cervix. After a second, he rammed into her several times, rapidly — hard — then held again. She felt his cock pulse. She had felt her ex-husband's dick jerk from time to time when he came, but this was different. Different because Fred's cock was thicker — much thicker, and much longer. In addition, she had never actually felt her ex come in her, just the jerking, sometimes. But with Fred, she felt the splash of sperm-laden semen against her cervix, over and over; felt the warmth of his seed spread throughout her pussy; felt as if she were becoming part of him as his pulsing cock seemed to consume her being.

He leaned down to lock his mouth to hers. Screaming into his mouth, she wiggled her groin against his, his seed squirting out around their junction as he stroked one last time before holding tight against her cervix again. She was certain she could feel warmth in her womb. The warmth seemed to spread throughout her body as she bucked against him, shuddered as she clung to him, and collapsed. Taking a shaking breath, she tried to say something, but was quickly out mid-word.

"Shit, we forgot the towels," Carla said as Jessica scrambled out of bed to fetch them.

Giggling, the two women pushed washcloths under the still-connected couple. "Too late," Carla laughed. "Well, I guess it was too much to hope that we wouldn't have to change the sheets."

Jessica stared at their connection and the thick semen that had already been forced out past it to mix with the rose petals. "I hope she hasn't missed any of her pills."

"She said she took them regularly," Carla said.

"You going to lie there and sleep?" Jessica said as she stroked Fred's back a few minutes later.

Fred grinned over his shoulder at her. "Nope, but be ready with that cloth. I'm going to pull out."

When he turned over to flop on his back, Jessica caught the spill, and Carla took care of cleaning Fred's cock with her mouth. Shortly, Jessica knelt near the side of the bed on her hands and knees. "I want it from behind," she announced as she watched her mother suck Fred.

Carla pulled her mouth off. "Do my daughter. I'll be waiting for you."

Fred smiled at Carla. "Thank you, Ma'am," he said as he stood and positioned himself behind the teenager, not noticing the rose petals clinging to the sweat on his back and butt.

I barely felt you when I was making love to Audrey, Fred thought to Brenda as he lined his cock up with Jessica's tight pussy and pushed the head just past the lips of her tunnel. What happened?

"I didn't want to scare her. She was excited enough as it was, and more than a little apprehensive."

Okay, I can relate to that. But there are four of us here. I can't make love to you the same as I can to them,  he thought, referring to the three women, but what we did night before last was good for all of us. You seemed to like it, and I know I did. Carla and Jessica both fainted repeatedly. So be part of this, please.

"Put it in," Jessica insisted. Then, "Oh, shit," she shrieked as Fred pushed to her womb on the first stroke.

-------

"Put a guard on the basement door until the rest of the house is secure. I want to go down there with you," Jeff instructed.

"Yes, Sir," Lieutenant Richardson responded as he sub-vocalized the command via his throat mike to the others.

A couple of minutes later, every space big enough for a person to hide in the house had been checked. At a word from Jeff, the lights came back on throughout the neighborhood, but there appeared to be little visual difference outside as the storm raged. Few people would even notice the short time the power had been off in the middle of the night.

They moved the vehicles to the back and turned them around in preparation for leaving. Two people were assigned to wipe out the vehicle tracks to the street as well as what was left of their footprints. A little later, the heavy snowfall had covered the disturbed areas, leaving little, if any, signs they were in the house.

Ingles was awake, but with the ball gag, the black hood over his head, his hands cuffed behind his back, and his body secured to the bed, about all he could do was thrash around and grunt some. A healthy backhanded fist to his solar plexus and a whispered warning in his ear put an end to that.

Ingles flinched when the medic administered the shots, but otherwise kept quiet. The lights now on and the window covered so that no light escaped, his hood and gag were removed. With recorders and video equipment started, the truth serums administered, the two medics sat near him and waited for the drugs to take affect.

Bored, Carter and Jones sat nearby as Ingles, trying to intimidate them, stared at first one, then the other of the four men in the room. Finally, Carter grew tired of it. "Staring at us and trying to memorize our faces, or whatever you're doing, isn't going to help you any. You've already shot my ass at the door, for what little good it did. In case you haven't noticed, we're not cops. I don't have to read your Miranda rights to you; I don't have to deliver you fully intact, either. In fact, we might just let that woman who stunned you come in and be alone with you for a few minutes. Whether you have your balls or not, is totally immaterial to us. You're damn sure never going to use them again."

Medic Tomlin looked at his watch. "Let's take the gag out. The truth serum has had time to take effect. He'll talk to us now." Pulling out several sheets of questions, he slid his seat closer to the bed as medic Blackburn slipped the elastic off and yanked the gag out.

"You will answer each question in its entirety. If something occurs to you that it seems I would like to know, you will tell me. You will refer to me as, Sir. Do you understand?" Tomlin snapped.

Ingles opened his mouth to say, "Fuck you," but an odd expression flitted across his face and he answered, instead, "Yes, Sir. I understand."

They looked at each other and grinned, well, all but Ingles, he seemed amazed and perhaps a little bewildered.

"First thing we're going to do is have you read a few paragraphs to our speech to text program. You'll notice we like redundancy," he said as he gestured to the equipment about them. "And we might as well get the transcription over with at the same time as the recordings." Holding a printout in front of Ingles, "Read until I tell you to stop. Do it in a normal voice."

Jones got up and walked over to the bed before Ingles could start on his short reading assignment. "And should you decide to defy us," he said tapping Ingles on the bottom of his bare foot, "I would be proud to administer just the right incentive." He touched Ingles' big toe with the prod on its lowest setting to underline his point. The five-second zap seemed to Ingles to last far longer. When Ingles' thrashing died down, Carter continued, "I don't like rapists — as a matter of fact, I hate rapists. Some bastard raped my daughter. We didn't call the police; I took care of it. When I caught up with him, he tried to tell me she had wanted it. Yeah, she wanted it all right. Sure she did," he finished as his voice dripped sarcasm. "That's the reason he had to black her eye and bust her lip to get into her pants. You should have heard the son-of-a-bitch scream while I was cutting his balls and dick off.

"My only regret is I should have dropped him off at a hospital somewhere. The bastard died on me and cut my revenge short. I was going to give my daughter a chance to piss on his face. But I did record everything for her to watch should she ever want to. When she gets down, she can always watch that to get her spirits back up. If you think a raped woman wouldn't watch that video, you need to think again. Oh, yeah, the lass who stunned you at the door interviewed Jill Madison about what you had done to her during the last year. I suspect that she would be very proud to even the score for Mrs. Madison."

"Get him away from me," Ingles said, his voice frantic. Ingles didn't doubt him, and just as well, for everything Carter said was true.

Carter started to walk away, but turned back to zap Ingles again to make certain Ingles would know that Carter would hit him with the cattle prod without hesitation.

When the thrashing stopped and Ingles was reasonably calm again, "Now then, read from the page," the medic said. "When the program tells us it has had enough, we'll start with your telling us about this organization that's kidnapping women and girls..."

-------

In case the door was booby-trapped, Sergeant Gomez reached over with a hook attached to a rod that could be extended to a six-foot length. At Jeff's nod, Gomez caught the hook in the paneling and gently pulled until the wall slid to the right, revealing a thick door. Jeff, kneeling to the side, eased the key into the lock and turned the knob. When nothing happened, Gomez pushed the door open with the rod.

Light from the room spilled onto a landing with stairs going down to the right. "No, Major, that's our job," Gomez said as Jeff started to step through the door. Four of the team, led by the Sergeant, eased down the stairs, weapons ready.

Shit,  Jeff thought, but knew they were right. He followed quietly, closing the door behind them to preserve the darkness, as the team, again wearing night vision gear, and soundless, entered the big room at the bottom of the stairs. A couple of minutes later, Gomez gave the all clear.

"No bad guys, Major, but you need to come in here," Gomez said as he walked back out of the room behind the first room at the bottom of the stairs — eventually they would refer to this first room as the sex room.

Fearing the worst, Jeff followed Gomez. Then, "Oh, shit," Jeff said a moment later as he saw the three young women, all nude, huddled in one of the cages. They had obviously heard enough to know someone was in the room with them, but of course, couldn't see anything in the darkness.

"Find the lights," Jeff said, then to the women — girls, actually, "We're here to help you. The lights are going to come on, so watch your eyes."

The lights came on. "Get Fisher in here," Jeff said, his voice tight.

"I'm here, Major," Fisher, who had come down the stairs, said a second later as she heard and hurried in.

"Clothes," Jeff started.

"Already looking," Gomez said. "I've sent someone for sheets in case we can't find their clothes quickly. But I think we're going to have to burn through the lock unless we can get Ingles to tell us where he keeps the key," he said, indicating the built-in lock on the steel-barred door.

Someone came running in with several sheets. Jeff grabbed them and gave them to Fisher. "Get them to cover themselves and stay in the corner farthest from the door. I doubt if the sparks from the lock being cut out will reach them, but better safe than sorry."

Turning, Jeff snapped, "Burn it. I don't want to wait for Ingles."

Soon the girls were covered and the lock quickly cut out of the door. The girls were whimpering as Fisher knelt next to the bars as close as she could get to the three. As soon as the door opened, she entered the cage to kneel with the girls and hug them, quietly talking to them.

Jeff turned to Lieutenant Richardson. "Make sure Jones doesn't come down here. Wasn't his daughter raped?"

"Already thought of that. I'll keep him busy with Ingles. No use for him to see this."

Jeff surveyed the cell as he waited for Fisher to calm the girls. It was approximately eight feet square, and was one of three such cages in a row. It had a commode and a sink, much as a jail cell would have. The occupants had absolutely no privacy because three sides of the cell were steel bars and the other side was the concrete wall of the basement.

Expecting something similar, they had brought several sets of BDUs for any captives to wear, but they would have to get them out of one of the vans. Jeff didn't have to ask, another team member brought in the BDUs shortly.

"Let's get out of here and let them get dressed," he said as Fisher grabbed the clothes.

"Two are fifteen, the other one sixteen," Fisher snarled. "He's raped all of them. That bastard needs killing."

Jeff couldn't agree more.

-------

"Major, there's a large area of metal behind this wall," one of the techs called from around the corner. Jeff quickly walked down the room and into the bottom of the "L" as the man motioned to him. "A safe would be my guess from the density and size," he finished as he pointed vaguely to an area that was registering on his equipment as Jeff walked up.

"Figured out how to get to it, yet?" Jeff asked.

The tech ran his hands up and down the paneling. " No, Sir, not yet ... Ah, there it is," he said as there was a click and a knot in the paneling pushed inward slightly.

Jeff stepped closer to inspect the walk-in safe that had been revealed as the doorway opened. "How in the fuck did he get this thing down here?"

"Probably just built it on site," the tech said. "But that lock is going to be a bitch with the tools we brought. We never expected anything like this."

Jeff turned to grin at him. "Oh, there's a simpler way, now that we're not in a hurry. Simple as far as we're concerned; Ingles might not think so, though."

A radio call upstairs and a few minutes later, Ingles was babbling out the combination as his eyes bugged out while he tried to stop himself. Chuckling a moment later, the tech spun the lock. With the last digits of the combination in, the tech gave a little mock bow to Jeff. The thick door swung silently open as Jeff tugged on it.

Lieutenant Richardson stepped into the safe behind Jeff and the tech. "Oh, shit," he said looking around.

Jeff turned to face the lieutenant. "I have permission from the general, but I want you to handle this. Just be reasonable and fair — I'll back you whatever you decide."

A while later, Bill Madison was sitting on a stool in the lab as he carefully inventoried items, then packed them in a heavy plastic carton that would lock. "Sir, I need to ask you something," Lieutenant Richardson said as he pulled up another stool and sat beside Bill.

"Sure. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Bill responded as he turned to face Richardson.

"I know this is personal — well, the whole thing is — to put it mildly. I mean, coming here with us with everyone on the team knowing what happened and everything. I mean ... shit. We all know how hard this is on you. How hard everything has been..." he stammered, embarrassed.

Uncomfortable, Bill responded, "Uh, thanks. It's a little embarrassing with everybody knowing what happened, but the important thing is that we have Ingles."

"Sir, I really need to know. How much — exactly — did all this cost you? We know he forced your wife to divorce you. How much did everything — and I mean everything,  cost you?"

Bill stared at Lieutenant Richardson for a moment, almost popping off and saying that Ingles had cost Bill the life he loved, but at the last, stopped at the sincere look on Richardson's face. "I, uh, guess I've never added it all together. I put the house on the market for less than it was worth. It sold to the first couple the real estate person took out to see it. Then there was the cut for the real estate gal's commission. Plus I wrote the court a check for half of our assets. Then there was the cost of the divorce and a few other things. Oh, and Ingles, or someone else, took everything out of the house before we could move anything. Son-of-a-bitch had that done while we were at the attorney's office. So I had to buy all new appliances before I could sell the house. A lot of our personal stuff disappeared with that theft, too. Things that can't be replaced..."

Richardson took a small pad out of his pocket. "Write it all down so you don't forget anything. Oh, I don't mean each item. I mean the approximate totals for everything — the total value of the things they stole from your house. Attorney's fees, real value of your house, the amount you settled in court, everything. Lump sum, Sir. I really need it."

Bill stared hard at Richardson for a moment. The lieutenant just stared back. "Okay," Bill sighed. "Give me ten minutes to refresh my memory."

Ten minutes later, Jeff, Richardson and Gomez walked back into the lab with Richardson carrying a soft-sided travel case. Richardson looked at the man on the other end of the bench as he packed things away just as Bill was doing. "Give us a minute, Jacobs."

"Sir," Jacobs said as he quickly stood and left the room.

"What did you come up with?" Richardson said as he put the suitcase down at his feet.

Bill sighed, obviously reluctant, but handed the notebook to Richardson. "Embarrassing," he said. "But I just let him take my wife and everything from me. I loved her and just let it happen."

"This still seems low for your house," Richardson said, knowing a lot more about Bill's situation than Bill expected him to.

"Well, we bought the lot next to us several years ago to keep someone from building on it. Added the pool and the privacy fence; added a couple of rooms as our finances improved. Had a lot of good times in that house..." He suddenly stopped. "I didn't have to get the house appraised the way I sold it, so I don't really know its worth. No way to value a lot of the things I lost."

Lieutenant Richardson picked up the bag and tossed it on the counter by Bill. "You're right, of course. No way to put a value on what he's done to the three of you. Not enough money in the world to cover it. But we found some money Ingles had in his safe. We figure that part of it is yours. I think this will help on the financial end of your troubles, anyway."

"It's okay, Bill," Jeff quickly added. "The general knows it's going to happen." But not exactly how much is going to happen,  he mentally added. "I might suggest not opening the bag until we're home." Jeff mysteriously said.

"Uh, okay," Bill stammered. "I, uh, appreciate it."

"No problem, Sir. I wish I could get away with ten times that, but the general might get pissed," Richardson said as he offered his hand.

When Richardson, Gomez and Jeff left, Bill resumed inventorying the materials from the lab counter, assuming there was a few thousand dollars in the case. I have my wife again, and have gained another mate in the process. A Queen, I guess, since Kathy seems to be boss, and Jill obviously wants it that way. My prayers have been answered ... and more.

-------

Jessica had gone wild as soon as Brenda began reflecting the orgasm back and forth. The teenager, on her hands and knees, hunched her ass hard back against Fred as he clung to her hips and stroked her.

Audrey, awake now, knew something more was going on, and reached over to touch Jessica as her mother was already doing. Audrey hissed in a breath and capped a hand over her sopping pussy as she felt the effects from Brenda. Carla whined and huffed in a breath as Jessica orgasmed again with Brenda magnifying it.

Fred pounded on, his cock like an iron bar, then held tight against Jessica's womb as he ground the head across her cervix. "Yes. Fuck me!" she screamed loudly enough to hurt Fred's ears any other time, but with Brenda reflecting Jessica's orgasms back and forth, he didn't even notice his ears ringing. At the moment, he was too busy fighting to keep from succumbing to the blackness that caused his vision to tunnel. He tried to focus on Jessica's hair as she thrashed her head back and forth so quickly she seemed to have a halo about her head. He had lost count of her orgasms as her pussy gripped his cock tighter and tighter.

She quit yelling about fucking her and started a keening sound that gradually built in volume. Fuck, I hope no one calls the cops,  his last coherent thought crossed his mind before his balls slammed up tight against the base of his cock. The stream of semen was so strong he felt it all the way through his dick. Jessica bucked back into him, her womb cramping as his seed splashed against it, her voice dwindling away as she ran out of air. She would have sprawled forward as her senses left her, but Fred still clutched her ass tightly, unwilling to allow the spasming pussy to leave his buried cock.

Come squirted from her pussy as he made one last, slow thrust into her, then allowed both of them to settle to the bed, Jessica out, and Fred only conscious enough to catch most of his weight on his forearms to keep from crushing her as his cock soaked in her throbbing pussy.

Wow,  Audrey thought as the world came back to her enough so that she could slide her hand over and grasp Carla's.

In her sleep, Jessica made an unintelligible sound and tried to arch her back to hump her pussy up to Fred. Carla and Audrey giggled as they both began stroking Fred's back. He had one more woman to go.



-------

Chapter 31


EARLY THURSDAY MORNING — OCTOBER 3

"Campbell, heads up! Ingles just told us the computers are rigged," Jones said over the radio. There was a short pause, "Campbell!"

"All clear. All clear," Rogers, the team member assigned to watch over Campbell responded. "He's taken his headset off and can't hear you, but he's fine."

Before the radio conversation was half over, Jeff rounded the bottom of the stairs, grabbed the rail and launched himself, hard. Lieutenant Richardson was right behind Jeff for the first few steps, but taking only three of the stair steps at a time, was rapidly falling behind.

Shit, how does he do that? Richardson thought as Jeff disappeared through the doorway into the den by the time the lieutenant managed the first landing.

Richardson did get to the door of Ingles' office in time to see Jeff glaring at first Campbell, then Rogers, though.

"Major, I didn't know what he was doing for a bit, but he was doing something with that probe there," he said pointing. "He yanked the headset off, saying it was distracting him. Then a little later, said, 'Got it.' A minute or two after that, he removed the two screws from the back and slid the side off the computer case. He took that thing out," he said, this time pointing to something setting on a table in the corner. "He told me not to touch it because it was a charged capacitor. About that time, Jones started yelling on the radio."

Jeff waved the others who had crowded into the doorway back to their jobs.

"What's all the fuss about?" Campbell said. "I know better than to open a system without checking first, at least under these circumstances. I slipped a probe in," he said motioning to a hair-thin wire with a tiny lens on the end, "and could see his crude little surprise. Trivial."

"What the fuck is that?" Lieutenant Richardson said as he stepped closer to look at the big capacitor.

"Don't touch it," Jeff snapped. "Crude, all right, but it could give you a nasty shock and a burn. Might even kill you. Probably came out of an old picture tube type TV. Looks like it has some age on it, but don't let that fool you. Chances are good it can still take a charge."

Jeff looked hard at Campbell.

"I'll discharge it before I put it back in the computer ... uh, Sir," Campbell quickly added the honorific. "Uh, he had it rigged to the disk drive and the side of the computer. Anyone opening the computer in the usual way would get a shock and the drive would be fried at the same time."

"All right. Just be damned careful," Jeff said.

Jeff and the lieutenant turned and walked out of the office. A little way down the hall, both of them heard Rogers snap, "Dammit, you made me look bad in front of the major and the lieutenant. Now put that headset back on and keep it on."

"Had you rather that radio chatter distract me and I get myself shocked by that thing? Those throat mikes make everyone sound weird. I can't work with that crap going in my ear."

"Well, you better learn how, because you're going to wear it from now on. And there hasn't been that much on the radio, anyway. I'm supposed to keep your geek-ass from getting killed. Now I'm in trouble because you didn't answer your radio."

Mumbling, Campbell put his headset back on.

Jeff grinned at Richardson as they paused to listen. "I think that problem just got solved," he quietly said as they resumed walking.

"Yeah, well, Campbell is going to hear of it again when we get back to base."

"Don't be too hard on him. If he wasn't sharp, we would be doing CPR on him right now."

"Yeah, there is that," Richardson sighed.

Jones came back on the radio and reminded everyone that the computers in the lab were similarly rigged. Jeff listened as each member of the team and the techs acknowledged — Campbell among them.

"Put somebody on..." Jeff started to say even as Lieutenant Richardson keyed his mike to assign Collins to make sure no one touched either of the computers in the lab until Campbell could take care of them.

"Murphy has knocked on our door twice," Jeff said with a little grimace.

"Yeah. Maybe somebody will shoot the bastard before he gets in," Richardson said as he chuckled. "And by the way, you ran the fuck off and left my ass on those stairs. How in the hell did you do that? I run every day."

"Fuck," I don't know. "I guess I was scared that Campbell had bought the farm," Jeff replied, sluffing it off.

Richardson looked over at Jeff as they walked through the den on the way to the sub-basement. "We haven't run together in a long time. I wish you were back with us so we could do it again."

"Yeah, that would be fun," Jeff replied as he clapped the lieutenant on the shoulder. "We'll have to do it sometime soon."

"Yeah, sure," Richardson teasingly said as they started down the stairs. "I can just see you leaving seven women behind to come play with us again. Not to say anything about your being rich."

Jeff didn't correct him on the number of women. "Well, it's not that much money. I've got a friend who has so much money he wouldn't even notice what I have," Jeff returned, trying to play down the rich aspect. "Besides, I just lucked up and sold an invention."

Richardson stopped to look at him as they got to the bottom of the stairs. "Respectfully, Sir," he grinned. "You are so full of shit."

Laughing, the two men went back to work.

-------

Fred slid a hand down between Carla's legs, then ran a finger lightly up her slit. At the same time, he gently nipped her right nipple. She flinched.

Wondering, Fred sucked gently on the nipple, then sucked a little harder. Carla flinched again.

Fred pulled back and looked her in the face as she frowned. "I don't know what's wrong. I noticed that my boobs were a little sore this morning. As the day progressed, they seemed to get worse. Now my nipples are really tender."

"You're period fixing to start?" Fred asked.

"No, I'm right in the middle of my cycle. I don't know what's wrong, and they're even more sensitive than usual. The crazy thing is, even with them so tender, I want you to suck my nipples really hard. I mean, I want it even more than ... Oh, heck, I don't know what I mean..." she stumbled to a stop.

"Well, suppose I do this, then," he said as he gently caressed her right breast again, then licked across her swollen nipple.

"Oh, yes," she hissed out as he continued, his hand going down to caress her clit. Shortly, her back arched as the first orgasm hit. It seemed even more intense than usual.

"Ohhh, Baby, ohhhh. It hurts and it feels so good toooo."

Fred gently continued with her right breast for awhile, then changed to her left, wondering. After giving it equal attention, he slid down in the bed as she obediently pulled her legs back a little and opened them. "You smell good," he said as he caressed her labia with the tip of his tongue.

Whatever was wrong with her breasts didn't extend to her pussy. As his tongue attacked her clit, she grabbed the back of his head and slammed her pussy hard against his mouth, hissing out, "Yesssss."

After a while, he mounted her, slowly sliding his cock into her tight pussy. He glanced down at her breasts as they swayed just below his chest. Her nipples seem thicker and longer than I remember. He looked closer as he slid his dick slowly back and forth inside her. Her breasts seem swollen; maybe more rounded than I remember. Were they like that night before last? I can't remember.

He pressed the head of his cock against her womb and slowly rotated his ass. Carla seemed to come unglued. She came, thrashing and screaming as she wrapped her legs around his hips, wiggling her pussy around his cock. Brenda got into the act as Carla orgasmed. Fred locked down on his emotions to keep from coming as he felt Carla's orgasm peak, then Brenda's.

The orgasm finally faded, even as another began to build. He felt Jessica and Audrey caressing his back as his thrusts became harder and faster. Carla screamed into his ear, her nipples moving through the hair on his chest as her breasts swayed beneath him. Suddenly, she began short, hard hunches upward, slamming her groin into his — his cock punishing her womb. The orgasms became continuous as Brenda reflected them back and forth. Fred's cock spurted and seemed to keep on spurting.

A short while later, "You're going to crush her," Jessica said as she and Audrey pushed on his shoulders. Groggily, Fred rolled to his back, his cock still hard, its wetness glistening in the lights of the room as it swayed above his groin.

"Shit," Fed mumbled. "This is going to kill me."

"Not me," Brenda giggled in his mind as she became conscious again. "I'm already dead, remember?" Then, "Sorry about that. I guess the joke is getting old." Fred chuckled anyway.

"Look at Mom's nipples," Jessica exclaimed. "Is that milk?" she asked pointing to a drop of translucent white liquid on each.

Fred turned on his side to lick the closest nipple. "It's sweet," he concluded. "Might be."

-------

Later:

"What's the count?" Jeff said as he motioned to the boxes sitting near the door to the walk-in safe.

"Well, there are a hundred pills to a bottle, and there are two types of drugs. I didn't spend the time to do an exact count, but there are approximately five hundred bottles of each type of drug."

"Major, I need to speak with you for a moment," Lieutenant Fisher said as she walked up.

"Sure," Jeff returned as he followed her to a corner of the lab out of immediate hearing of anyone else.

Fisher looked at her feet for a moment, then her head snapped up to look him in the eyes. "We can't just destroy those drugs. If we cut off the supply from Ingles' pipeline — or whatever the term is — those women who are slaves in Iran, or wherever, will die without the drugs. At least that's what Ingles told Mrs. Madison. Somehow, we have to continue their supply. I can't..."

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, I know. I've already given orders to secure the drugs and take them back with us."

"Sir, I've talked with Mooring — him," she said nodding to a tall, thin man working on the other side of the lab, "the chemist. He found Ingles' notes and logs in the safe. He says that it seems to him that someone else made the initial discoveries about the drugs. He also thinks that this person's notes stopped a couple years ago. Ingles' notes picked up after that. He says that Ingles' work is crude compared to the first person's. Mooring thinks there was a very good research chemist before Ingles. But Ingles continued to experiment after that person dropped out of the picture.

"He thinks that Ingles mostly just produced the drugs, and did very little research, himself, other than testing different doses on the women. Mooring says that anyone with a little chemistry background could be taught to make the drugs, and the machines there," she said pointing, "would press them into pill form. Well one of them, anyway. One type of drug is pressed into pill form, the other is put into capsules by the other machine."

Jeff sighed. "Good work, Lieutenant. I guess I need to talk to Mooring."

"Yes, Sir," Fisher said, returning to her work.

-------

"Doctor Mooring, got a minute?" Jeff said as he approached the chemist. Mooring turned away from the tech he had been talking to, as Jeff continued, "Come take a little walk with me."

Walking into the first room, Mooring following, Jeff took a seat and motioned for the doctor to do the same. Jeff glanced around him at the benches with their stirrups, cuffs hanging from the ceiling on chains, beds with restraining straps, soft recliners, the expensive, large-screen TV on the wall with the video player beneath, two video cameras set up on tripods, several still cameras on a shelf nearby, sex toys lying around ... Tearing his mind away from what had happened to the women in this room, he cleared his throat to get Mooring's attention.

The chemist looked embarrassed for a moment. "Uh, my wife and I have played games a little — at her instigation. But our handcuffs have a button on them that she can press and free herself any time she wants." He looked around himself again. "But this place gives me the creeps. And this room isn't as bad as that one," he said, jerking his thumb toward the door. "They have real torture equipment in there with the cages. That is a very sick ... uh, human being upstairs."

Jeff paused for a second, "I need to know something, Doctor Mooring." At Mooring's nod, Jeff continued. "No bullshit. I don't want you to come back to me two weeks from now and tell me you misjudged, or you were wrong. So think about what I'm going to ask you. Okay?"

When the chemist nodded, "From what I can determine, there's a good chance that the women who Ingles gave these drugs to, will, or have already, become addicted to them — will die without them..."

Mooring interrupted. "From the notes — and by the way, those are very detailed research notes the original chemist took — from the notes, and from the formulas taped to the lab table, one of the drugs is quite similar to one of our truth serums being used on Doctor Ingles right now. Similar — not the same. But if I were to administer the dosage of truth serum that Ingles is receiving now, every day for four days, he would never be the same person again — if he lived at all.

"With the one drug, chances are better than ninety-five percent that what he tells us will be the truth. With the combination of drugs we're giving him, he would rat out his own mother. The combination isn't much harder on the body than the basic truth serum, though." Mooring looked at his watch. "Shortly, he will be getting a booster, which is still safe, but I wouldn't want it done to me. His mind will probably be a little slow, and he might be a bit forgetful for the next couple of days. But there shouldn't be any long-term complications after that.

"But ... from these notes, the other drug that Ingles produced that is not derived from something similar to our truth serum, is much like one of the more powerful mood altering medications on the market today. Similar — it isn't the same. Any slight deviation could cause drastically different results when consumed by a human being."

"And this drug does..."

"Based on the notes I've read as this person experimented on women, it appears that the drug produces an effect on a person's free will. I haven't had a chance to read those reams of notes, but in just scanning through them, he commented that a woman when given a certain dose, would just sit quietly. If she were told to do something, she would do it, but would have no personality of her own.

"Later, he commented on hypnotism as a means of giving her, or another woman, since this was much later in the experiments, complex instructions, even assuaging their will until the woman would respond favorably to stimuli. In other words, she would become a great sex partner, at least if the notes are correct. But she would have no true will of her own. Without complex instructions — programming — she would just sit in the chair until she died."

"That's about what Jill, uh, Mrs. Madison has told us," Jeff agreed. "But now we get back to the question I started to ask." Jeff stretched out his legs and considered a moment. "Can you make these drugs? Not, 'I think I can, ' not, 'maybe I can.' Yes or no? Can you make both of the drugs?"

"Certainly."

"Are you absolutely fucking sure?" Jeff said, his voice intense.

"Look, Major. I'm a pretty damn good chemist..."

Jeff broke in, "Are you sure you can make both drugs, just like those pills that were in the safe? That will work just like those pills?" Jeff questioned, his voice becoming more tense.

"I'm absofuckinglutely sure," Mooring snapped, his face red, his temper rising. "But we've got Ingles, anyway..." Mooring started.

"Carry on, Doctor," Jeff said as he stood and left the room, mounting the stairs.

Mooring watched Major Matthews reach over, grab the rail and vault up the stairs. It seemed so ... casual, yet it reminded him of a leopard he had seen on TV. The animal had leapt several times its own height to a dead tree limb, seemingly without effort at all. Looking into Matthews' eyes when he became intense was something Mooring wasn't comfortable with — they reminded him of that leopard.

By the time Mooring had walked the short distance back to the lab, he had mostly forgotten Jeff's eyes. Fuck, why is he so uptight about producing the drugs? With the notes we have, any of my assistants could make them in their sleep. And he asks me if I can make them. Ingles isn't a chemist, and he made them. I don't see what the bother is. Besides, when we get Ingles to the base, he'll be begging to make all the drugs we want. Fuck it. The major is upset about nothing.

The two guards, mostly buried in the snow at opposite edges of the property, were relieved, warmed up with hot drinks and assigned inside duties. Two other members of the team took up the cold duties for an hour.

Jeff stopped in Ingles' bedroom to listen to the interrogation for a few minutes. Tomlin indicated the pages of prepared questions he had already covered. Glancing at his watch, "We're doing fine, Major. Might even be a little ahead of schedule. We already have the names of the people he deals with, how to contact each person, his codes, his blind drops, how to access his bank accounts and computer files, how to access the files with the women's names and information he has about them, where he buys his basic chemicals for his drugs, how he runs his drug business — on and on.

"He never saw most of the high-level people in this slaver operation, and apparently dealt mostly with mid-level people. It's a big organization, Sir. Really big. He thinks he's only one of many people and smaller organizations funneling women out of the States. But women he had, uh, processed with his drugs and hypnosis brought a lot more money. In addition, he had a continuing source of revenue, since he sold the same drugs to the slavers to keep the women under. He's a real..." Tomlin hesitated, unable to come up with the word he wanted, "piece of filth," he finished.

A few minutes later, Jeff opened the door to the larger of the two storerooms just off the lab in the sub-basement. There were several large welding oxygen tanks and two acetylene tanks in the corner. One of the acetylene tanks was full, the other with just a little pressure left in it. Three of the oxygen tanks were full, two empty.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Lieutenant Richardson said as he walked over.

"What does Conner say?"

Richardson grinned at him, "That with all that acetylene and the three cylinders of oxygen, about all that will be left down here is the safe and the bars of the cages. And those steel bars might be sagging a bit. Anything inside the safe will be charcoal — at best."

"Okay, tell him to get it set up. We want to stay on schedule and leave before dawn. What about the copying?"

"Fisher took that over. She's just about through with the notebooks from the first chemist. She's says another thirty minutes for everything."

Richardson looked around him at the controlled chaos. "We're taking most of Ingles' chemicals. We'll leave the machines that make the pills. Mooring says we can obtain them easily enough and they might be missed if something goes wrong with our plans for this place. The lab will still look like a lab when we're gone. We brought everything we'll need to make it look right. Of course, with all that oxygen, not to mention the acetylene, it would be a miracle if anything is left down here at all."

A few minutes later, upstairs, "How's it coming, Campbell?" Jeff said as he noticed the man helping to search Ingles' office.

Campbell, on his hands and knees, was removing drawers from Ingles' desk. "Oh, hi, Major," he responded as he pulled a drawer out and found an envelope taped to the bottom. He photographed it, then pulled the envelope loose. Standing, he retrieved a pad. After writing in the pad, he affixed a label onto the envelope, made some notations on the label, and put the envelope in a box, all the while continuing to talk to Jeff.

"Our buddy's hard disks are all secured, and the fakes are back in his computers along with his little surprises — discharged, of course. The hard disks I put in have an operating system that I installed last night at the base, and are loaded with encrypted files, which I guarantee no one will be able to decrypt — ever. One, because of the encryption, and two, because it's just garbage that's been encrypted," he sniggered. "After swapping the hard disks out and setting the computer systems back up, I didn't have anything else to do, so I thought I would help out with the search."

Jeff sat on the corner of the desk. "Think you will have any problems accessing the information on Ingles' disks?"

Campbell got down on his knees by the desk and began replacing the drawers he had pulled out. "Probably not, even if I had to do it the hard way, but Carter tells me they got all his passwords during the first part of the interrogation. Piece of cake, now. Takes all the fun out of it." He motioned to the box where he had just put the envelope. "Plus, I would just about bet that envelope contains his passwords."

"And you didn't open it because..."

Campbell stopped to look up at him. "Granted my curiosity gets me into trouble, but that big sergeant of yours told me he would kick my ass if I did anything other than search, find, and label. And ... he keeps coming back to check on me."

Rogers, who had been assigned to watch over Campbell, looked up from the other side of the room where he was going through a bookcase. Winking at Jeff, he smothered a chuckle and continued his work.

Time drifted on as the house was searched. The whole house, and everything in it, had been explored, searched and photographed. Augmented with their equipment, the search uncovered any hiding place that Ingles used. Lieutenant Richardson and Sergeant Gomez checked items off their lists as the search began to wind down.

-------

Lieutenant Fisher noticed Jeff walk into the lab and nod to Captain Madison. Madison unhurriedly packed the item he was holding in a box, made a notation on a list, then followed the major toward the door. As Fisher's eyes followed them, Jeff looked her way and stared. Somehow embarrassed, Fisher ducked her head and went on with her work.

As they mounted the steps out of the sub-basement, Jeff handed Bill a pair of gloves similar to the surgical gloves he was already wearing, but heavier. "Here, put these on over the others. A pinhole is all it would take."

Madison slipped the gloves on and continued beside Jeff on up the stairs through the den, up the second stairs and onto the main floor of the house. They could hear laughter coming from the kitchen as several of the team and technicians sat around the table drinking Ingles' coffee.

They continued on down the hallway, but stopped just outside Ingles' bedroom door. Jeff briefly keyed his mike, which on the short-range radios, produced a click. Waiting for a slow-count to ten, Jeff opened the door and they entered.

Sergeant Gomez, Carter and Jones were standing by the window, Gomez having pulled enough of the window covering back so that they could look outside. "Still coming down out there," he said as all three men stood looking out the window into the darkness as if there were something that had caught their undivided attention.

Gomez, standing between the two men, put a hand on a shoulder of each as if he were going to tell them life's greatest secret. "Did I ever tell you the one about the drunk who went into the bar with a crocodile?"

"No, Sarge. I don't think I've ever heard that one," Jones lied, as the three studiously pretended there was no one else in the room with them.

"Well, you see, this guy walked into a bar leading a crocodile on a leash. And I mean this was a big fucker..."

Bill looked at the three men, glanced at Jeff, then stared at Ingles who now had his ball gag back in, the medics having finished the interrogation. Walking to the bed, the two stood staring down at Ingles for a moment; Ingles staring back at them.

Jeff leaned close to his friend, and in a voice that was not a whisper, but very quiet, said into Bill's ear, "You sure? I'll certainly do this if you aren't."

Bill turned to meet Jeff's eyes, their faces only inches apart. "Don't insult me, Jeff. I'm positive."

Jeff reached in his pocket and took out a small cylindrical container about three inches long and an inch around. Unscrewing the cap, he dropped an object that looked like a miniature roll-on deodorant into Bill's hand.

Ingles had been watching them, but had been lying still — not that he could move much, anyway. Madison leaned over until his mouth was close to Ingles' ear. "You have destroyed the lives of many women and girls. I have no idea how many. You used chemicals on them and my wife to make them into sex slaves. You destroyed my home and my family. My wife tells me you were coming after my daughter, next. I don't know whether Jill will ever be normal again. She's terrified to walk outside for fear you will be there. I promised her she would never have to worry about you again. If we leave you to the courts, you might pay your way out, or get off on a technicality. In other words, pay off a judge. I'm here to see that doesn't happen, and that you never have the chance to terrorize another woman. Get ready to say hello to Satan, you son-of-a-bitch."

Bill unscrewed the cap to the tiny container as Jeff grabbed Ingles' head; Jeff's strength locking down until Ingles could not move his head at all.

Ingles eyes jerked from Bill, to Jeff, then to the three men standing with their backs to them.

The three continued to laugh and cut up with their jokes, ignoring anything that was going on in the room. Sergeant Gomez' voice rose, "Well, after the third drink, the bartender said..."

Bill stopped to stare Ingles in the eye. Ingles tried to thrash around, but he was strapped down and the strength of the man holding his head was unbelievable, "Mmmmm mummh," he tried to yell to the three by the window.

Bill placed the container with its tiny roll-on ball behind Ingles ear, an area that stood little chance anyone would touch. Applying pressure and rolling the ball back and forth, left a very narrow, thin trail of moisture on Ingles skin.

Madison very carefully capped the tiny cylinder as Jeff released Ingles' head and handed Bill the larger container to secure the roll-on. Ingles lay looking up at them, his eyes wild, almost hyperventilating in his terror as Bill dropped the container into the Ziploc bag Jeff held out.

"Any time now," Jeff quietly said.

Ingles' eyes suddenly snapped wide open, his pupils retracting to pinpoints. He hissed in a breath, then arched his back. Sweat suddenly appeared on his face and his body continued to arch upward, straining. After about thirty seconds, he dropped back to the bed, limp, took a shuddering breath that slowly hissed out of him, then lay still, his eyes half open.

Bill leaned down and put his mouth close to Ingles ear. "Rot in Hell you bastard."

Jeff took out a paper towel and carefully wiped behind Ingles' ear to make sure none of the liquid would be left to get on anyone. Folding the paper towel, he placed it in the Ziploc bag and returned it to his pocket.

The two men turned and walked to the door. Just as they started out, Bill turned back and stared at Ingles until Jeff touched Bill's shoulder. The door quietly closed as Jones said, "Well, I've got one better than that. Ever hear the one about the guy who walked into the bar with a Chihuahua wearing a bikini?"

"The guy or the Chihuahua?" Carter snickered.

A couple minutes later as they passed through the den, Jeff and Bill carefully stripped off their outer gloves and put them in the Ziploc with the other items, Jeff returning the Ziploc to a pocket on his BDUs.

Fisher, looked up as Jeff and Bill came back into the lab. Jeff caught her eye, then with the slightest motion, shook his head. She went back to work.

Ten minutes later, "Medic! Medic!" Carter's voice came over the radio. "Ingles isn't breathing."



-------

Chapter 32

 ... Ten minutes later, "Medic! Medic!" Carter's voice came over the radio. "Ingles isn't breathing."

Fisher's head snapped up from what she was doing. Turning, she met Jeff's eyes from halfway across the lab. He stared back at her. She had wondered when Jeff and Bill left together so ... casually. Now she suddenly knew. She had no idea how they had done it, but she knew they had.

The stare had lasted for three or four seconds when a smile twitched the corner of her mouth. She went back to work. I hope you suffered, you bastard,  she thought, but then thinking of Ingles also brought up the memories of Jill sitting there telling her story — that look of horror on her face as she recounted what Ingles had done to her. Oh, God. I'll dream for years of the things Jill talked about. You bastard,  she thought again, you'll never do those things to another woman. Fisher saw the others leave the lab, but she remained. I got my shot at that bastard when he opened the door. It felt good. Too bad the shot wasn't with my 9 mm instead of a stun gun. But I don't want to see him. I surely don't want to see them working on him. Hmmm, maybe I could hit him with that stun gun again — help him on his way. The face of the young woman set. Die you bastard.

-------

Jeff and Bill stood in the doorway to Ingles' bedroom and watched the medics. The medics knew Ingles was irretrievably dead, but their helmet cams were on — they carried out their jobs to perfection. Lieutenant Richardson stepped between Jeff and Bill, putting a hand on the shoulder of each man. Making sure Jeff's helmet cam was off, Richardson quietly commented, "Well, it's good practice for the medics, anyway. Of course, now his body is full of chemicals that any pathologist would instantly recognize. Atropine and epinephrine, just to name a couple, aren't exactly something a normal body comes equipped with."

"If they have tissue to analyze," Jeff said. "With that much oxygen and acetylene, that isn't going to happen. When the medics get through, dress him in the clothes he had on yesterday and move him to the storeroom in the lab. I know the sergeant will check, but double-check to make sure this room is clean, just in case the medics leave something."

"Will do, Major." Lieutenant Richardson's voice turned grim. "The medics better not leave anything for either of us to find, else they will be running an extra five miles every morning for the foreseeable future. And I'm sure I can come up with a cadence for them to sing that will remind them of their follies while they do that extra mileage."

Jeff grimaced.

-------

"Are you positive you copied everything, Lieutenant Fisher?"

"Positive, Sir. I made two copies of all his records, and I've double-checked every page. The copies are in the van."

"Okay. Put the originals in the safe where you found them."

"Already there, Sir."

"Lieutenant Campbell?" Jeff said as he turned to the young geek.

As Jeff's eyes bore into his, the idea about snapping to attention crossed Campbell's mind, but having been screamed at in the past over his sloppy attempts, he just answered smartly, "Ingles' hard disks are secure and in the van. His computers are set back up and ready to go, minus a charge on the capacitors, of course. We have his backup drives and his computer DVDs all secured."

Sergeant Gomez spoke up. "He had a large number of 'home' videos. We checked a quick random sample, and they appear to be sex and torture scenes with various women. We replaced them with a porn library we brought with us for that purpose. Also, Sir, our checklist is complete. Everything is in the vans."

What Gomez hadn't mentioned, because Bill was standing there, was that Gomez had already given Jeff two DVDs that had Jill Madison's name scrawled on their cases. Jeff had almost told Gomez to destroy them, but had decided to give them to Bill later, in case he might want to destroy them himself. Gomez had quickly assured him that neither he nor any of the team had looked at either of Jill's DVDs — they wouldn't do that to Captain Madison.

"All right, Lieutenant Richardson, you and Campbell start in the back room. Check the room against the original pictures we took to make sure everything looks right, in case something happens and the place is somehow not destroyed. Sergeant Gomez, you and Fisher do the same for upstairs. Have the outside people start wiping out our signs." Jeff knew the kitchen and Ingles' bedroom had already been cleaned up. "We roll in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Sir," they both said.

-------

Jeff stepped over Ingles' body to walk through the door and into the storeroom. "Two igniters?" he said with a grin.

"Yep," Butler replied as he stepped back to survey his work. "Timed and also with a remote trigger. The igniters will be consumed by even a low-heat fire, leaving no trace."

"I hope we don't do any damage to any of the houses in the neighborhood," Jeff worried as he checked out the timers.

"There will be an explosion, but at the distance his house is from the others, there is little chance for damage. Besides, with these rooms so far underground, even if the explosion is more intense than I expect, the force will go straight up. With all that dirt above us, plus the house on top of it, the explosion will be further confined. Besides, with acetylene, there will be more fire than explosive force. Guaranteed there will be one hell of a hot fire with all that oxygen in here to help out the acetylene."

"You sure you're going to be safe?"

"The house is all electric and there's nothing down here to cause an arc. I have my air pack. I'm just going to crack the cylinders and run like hell. Just get everyone in the vans and give me the word ... and don't get in my way after I set the igniters," he finished, laughing.

"All right. I'll give you the word when we have the house checked and everyone is in the vans."

-------

Sergeant Gomez and Lieutenant Fisher stood in the back near the vans, the snow coming down hard, already beginning to turn their black outfits white, but the howling wind had died with the approach of dawn. "I need you to go out in the first van," Gomez said, hoping.

"No way, Sergeant." Before Gomez could speak, she continued. "The major has made it quite clear that Campbell and I rank no one here. That's as it should be. You people are a team, and most of you have been together for a long time. We're extra baggage. I'm not defying you, so please don't give me an order to get in that van. I'm not leaving until I see Major Matthews come out of that house."

"The major told me to make sure you were in the van and safe before he and Butler activated the timers..."

"Did he specifically say the first van?" Fisher broke in.

"No, but I..."

"Then I'll go in the last one. You won't be disobeying his orders."

"Head count, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Richardson asked as he walked up.

"All accounted for, Sir, except for Butler and Major Matthews who are still in the house."

Gomez turned his attention back to Fisher. "But he did say, 'in' the van, Ma'am — not standing outside." Expecting an argument, Gomez suddenly (desperately) said. "You can hold the door open for him from the inside, Ma'am, just as well as you can from out here."

Fisher hesitated for a moment, then got in, the door remaining open. "I better not regret this," she mumbled.

Richardson looked at Gomez and raised an eyebrow, but the gesture went unnoticed because of the night vision gear they were all wearing.

The other vans moved slowly down the driveway, with the one van remaining. Richardson communicated to Jeff on their command channel, "The first van is pulling onto the street now. They'll be leaving at random intervals, as you ordered. I'll let you know when they are all clear of the drive. Our van is still sitting in the back. Fisher and Gomez had a ... discussion about which van she was to ride in. She'll be with us."

Jeff repressed a chuckle. "Standing by for your word."

-------

"Sir, you don't have to be down here with me. This stuff will go up by itself when it reaches the right mixture in the air. The igniters are just to make sure. I know I have to have a buddy with me, but it could be one of the other guys..."

"Will you shut the fuck up?" Jeff said in a teasing manner. "Can't I have a little fun, too?"

Butler, kneeling by the timers, looked up at Jeff. Only major I've heard of who would be down here with me. Most officers, well with the exception of Richardson, would be about a mile away giving orders — useless orders.

Butler grinned, "No problem, Major."

-------

"That's it. We're ready," Richardson's voice came over the command channel. "When you two come out, just get in the van and roll. The sergeant and I are going to smooth out the tracks and meet you at the bottom of the drive."

"Affirmative," Jeff whispered into the throat mike. Closing his face plate, Jeff cleared the system and said to Butler, "Do it."

Butler activated his air pack, closed his face plate and set the timers. Turning to the acetylene cylinder, he spun the valve open as Jeff opened the oxygen valves.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," Jeff said, ushering Butler in front of him as they stepped across Ingles' body.

Not looking back, they jogged across the lab, down the hall, across the "sex" room and up the stairs. A few seconds later, Jeff snapped the lock on as they went out the back door, passing Gomez, who walked backward behind them wiping out their tracks in the deep snow.

Fisher squeezed Jeff's arm for a second as he and Butler got in the van, then she scrambled to the far back seat to sit by Bill and get out of the way. The driver dropped the idling van into gear and crept down the driveway as Richardson and Gomez hurriedly swept the tracks behind them. The disturbed snow was obvious, but those signs would quickly be gone as hard as the snow was coming down.

On the street, they moved into the tracks of the other vans and stopped. Shortly, Gomez and Richardson, breathing hard from their exertion, got in. The van began a leisurely trek around the circle and back toward the main street at the other end of the cul-de-sac. "I had one of the vans make a trip from the main street back down this one, and we brushed out our intersecting tracks from the driveway. This snow keeps up for thirty minutes, it will look like someone just drove down the street, made a loop at the end of the cul-de-sac and went back out. Of course, unless the fire department gets here quickly, our wiping our tracks out around the house won't matter. The fire will melt the snow, anyway."

"Agreed," Jeff said. "But we're not giving Murphy a chance if we can help it."

They all chuckled.

They didn't kill the street lights this time; there didn't seem to be any reason as the snow continued to fall as hard as any of them had ever seen it.

"Sir, you haven't given the order," the tech spoke up. "Want me to overload the phone trunk, and jam the cell frequencies like we planned?"

Jeff turned to look at him. "No, just hold up on that. I think the weather will take care of things for us. You can tell our guy at the power substation that we're done with them."

"Yes, Sir."

Jeff had been concerned about the fire department arriving in time to try and save the house — maybe even going inside and searching for victims. Not wanting to endanger a fireman, he had planned to overload the phone trunks and block the cell frequencies in the area to delay any calls from the neighborhood, but was concerned that someone might have a real emergency while he was doing this.

They stopped just past the intersection of the main street. "Still got a minute before the timer goes, Sir."

"Hit it," Jeff ordered as he cracked his window a little.

Butler flipped the safety off and pressed the button. They heard a faint "whumph," in the distance.

"Now we wait. And I hope some light sleeper didn't figure out what that was and call the fire department," he fretted.

They waited, unable to see anything because of snow still coming down.

Richardson, who had been listening on the longer-range radio, turned to Jeff. "The other vans are having problems with the drifts. Why don't we find someplace to hole up until the plows get out? The team is already near a strip mall. I suggest we use the parking lot there, and wait for a while."

"Fine, do it."

The white wall of snow continued. "Fuck this," Jeff said, wanting to see how far along the fire was as he continued to hope the fire department would be delayed.

Butler tapped him on the shoulder. "No fireman is going to go into that, Sir. No use to worry about it. The house is probably already totally engulfed. They're not fools; they do shit like that for a living."

As time progressed, Jeff's tension eased. Finally, twenty minutes later, they heard sirens in the distance. "Okay, let's move out," he said as they followed the tracks of the other vans.

A few minutes later, "Fuck," Jeff snarled, frustrated, as the driver fought to get the van into the parking lot with the others. "Next time we do this shit, I'm going to bring my big pickup with the plow." Everyone laughed except the driver, who thought it was an excellent idea, but wished that the major had thought of it before the mission.

An hour later, the snow slackening, they sat in the idling vans and watched a snowplow come down the four-lane. "Tell the lead van to go, Sergeant," Richardson ordered.

The last few blocks on the side streets were a bitch. Some areas were almost swept clear of snow by the winds, but the snow from the cleared areas went somewhere, sometimes in their path. They had all spent time shoveling before they were inside the warehouse.

Jeff was now relaxed since none of the firemen had apparently been endangered. The team had monitored the fire department on the radio. They had opted for containment, and didn't bother to put out what little of the fire was left by the time they got there. The house was totally consumed.

Jeff rummaged around the warehouse until he found a fifty-five gallon drum with the top out. It was half-full of trash. Finding a couple of cardboard boxes, he broke them down and added them to the trash in the barrel. Madison realized what Jeff was doing and grabbed one side of the drum when Jeff started to lift it. Outside, they placed it in a secluded corner.

Jeff took out the Ziploc bag with their gloves, paper towel and the container of the chemical used on Ingles. Tossing the bag in the trash barrel, he set the trash on fire. They stood well back and watched until everything was consumed. When the fire was dying down, the two Alphas turned to look at each other.

"I owe you one," Bill said as he put out his hand.

As Jeff squeezed his hand back, "I just hope this will help Jill to get over her fears."

"Maybe that bastard is stoking the fires of Hell right now," Bill answered grimly.

Stopping at the idling van for a moment, they checked on the sleeping girls. The driver's side window slid down as they had walked up. "They okay?" Jeff said, nodding to the back of the van.

"They're fine, Sir," medic Blackburn answered. "I gave them a mild tranquilizer and they're zonked out. I've done all I can for them until I get them back to the hospital. Lieutenant Fisher did a good job with them, though. They obviously trust her and they know they're safe now. I thought they would be afraid of me because I'm male, after that bastard raped them, but they're not acting like it."

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard the women who have been raped are frequently afraid of men afterward. But the girls are young. Maybe that's it. Well, I never claimed to understand women, anyway. Hang in there, Blackburn."

-------

Jeff sat leaning against the wall typing his after-action report on his laptop. Richardson was doing the same, but was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "Leave it until later, Lieutenant."

Richardson sighed and closed his computer. "The colonel will be pissed, but it's been more than forty-eight hours since I've slept, other than a couple of hours in that seat on the plane. My concentration just isn't there anymore."

"I'll take care of the colonel. When we get back, sack out until you wake up naturally, then do the report. He'll have mine, anyway."

"Thanks, Sir."

"No thanks necessary. This mission was yours. I just came along to help a little. You and the sergeant did all the planning and the logistics. And you did an excellent job of it. I just got to have some fun."

Jeff wasn't sure the lieutenant had heard the last because he had leaned his head back against the wall with his eyes closed, not answering.

One of the techs had managed to get some heat going in their area, but the temperature inside the warehouse was still well below anyone's comfort zone. Even so, some of the team sat propped against walls, in corners, or even stretched out on the floor, dozing. The outside guards were rotated every thirty minutes.

"Care to join us?" Carter asked Fisher.

She eyed the makeshift table they had thrown together out of forklift pallets with a top of cardboard. Seats were upended concrete blocks with another scrap of cardboard on top for comfort.

"What's the game?"

"Poker, my lady. Poker."

"Well, I've played it a little, but..."

"We'll teach you," Jones interjected.

"Okay," Fisher hesitantly said, "but I only brought a few dollars with me."

Jeff looked up from his computer at the comment about teaching her, then hastily injected, "No IOUs — and no strip poker. It's too damn cold in here for that."

"Yes, Sir," they all choursed, but Jeff could see the gleam of greed in the men's eyes despite their seeming nonchalance.

Jeff held back a grimace and walked away. Oh, well, she said she only brought a little money with her. That bunch will have it in short order. Maybe she'll learn something, and although she doesn't realize it, she has just been welcomed to the team as an equal. Not wanting to see them take her money, he strolled outside to check on the guards while he wondered if the snow would ever quit, and the runway would ever get plowed out.

An hour later, Jeff walked back by the game. The original players had been replaced with new ones — other than Fisher, who still sat where she started. Glancing around, he saw Jones sitting on the floor, his back propped against a desk. Jones looked at him, shrugged and turned his hands palm-up in a gesture that said, "Search me."

Gomez walked up. "Fisher, you and Washington relieve the guards."

"Yes, Sergeant," Washington said as he stood from the corner where he had been napping.

"Yes, Sergeant," Fisher said as she hastily stuffed a thick roll of bills in her pocket and stood.

Gomez looked at Jeff and grinned.

-------

Finally, they got the word that the runway had been plowed out and their plane was ready. After a struggle back through the drifts to the main drag, the rest of the trip to the airport was uneventful.

-------

Lieutenant Kayla Fisher and Jeff stopped by the door to his quarters. "Do I..." she hesitantly started.

"Bring your bags and get some rest. I've got to talk with the general."

"Are you in trouble? I mean..." she wound down, not wanting to mention what she thought had happened to Ingles.

"I have no idea. We'll see. Just get some rest. I'll be back when I can. If you're hungry, don't wait for me. I'll probably get something later."

-------

"Get you a cup," General Whitworth said, motioning to the maker.

Jeff poured himself a cup and refreshed the general's.

"This tastes better than some around here," Jeff commented as he took a sip and sat in the comfortable chair across from the general.

Whitworth kicked back and put his feet on the corner of his desk. "I drink about three pots of the stuff on a regular day, more if the day goes longer. I have the sergeant make it a little weaker because I drink so much of it."

Jeff took another sip and waited.

"What did you use to kill Ingles with?" the general quietly asked without even bothering to look at Jeff.

Jeff frowned and sat for a second. Whitworth went on as he turned his head to glance at Jeff, "Oh, don't bother to answer. I can think of half a dozen things off the top of my head. Besides, so far — well, as far as I know — you haven't lied to me. No use making you do it now. Hell, it would have taken an idiot to not know what you wanted when you insisted that Madison come with you."

There was a moment of silence as the two men looked at each other. "Madison is a good man," Jeff said.

"Yeah," Whitworth sighed. "I read his file and it jogged my memory. I never met him, but I remembered the support mission he flew for us. I knew then I wasn't going to interfere. I owed him one."

Whitworth nudged the thick file in front of him. "I read through Ingles interrogation that you sent in when you were airborne. You think we can duplicate the drugs?"

"Mooring says the duplication is a piece of cake. He claims he has an idea that, if it works, will take away the habit forming part of the drug; although, he makes no guarantee on that part."

"You do realize that you've now made a drug dealer out of my ass," Whitworth snapped. "We either continue to provide the drugs, or the women who are already on the stuff, die."

Jeff reached over and placed his empty cup on the general's desk. "I'm well aware of that," he sighed.

"And the hypnosis itself?"

Jeff leaned back in his seat. "We have a couple DVDs that Ingles referred to in the interrogation. Supposedly, he used those to program the women. According to him, the drugs would only make the women into ... zombies, sort of. They would just sit and wait for instructions, doing nothing. If you told a woman to get up and walk, she would walk until she ran into something, then just stand there. He used the DVDs to program the women to act normally and do whatever he wished.

"Of course, I'm giving credit to Ingles, when most probably, it was the missing chemist that did most of the work. Certainly this chemist researched and produced the drugs originally. I suspect that Ingles killed him, or had him killed. I think this person had a good bit to do with the hypnosis, and I think Ingles added to it, but obviously Ingles wound up with the whole process. Whatever. But he apparently kept the programming of the women for himself, selling only the finished product, so to speak, and the drugs to keep the women under its influence. I also think they brought him women who had already been captured, to have this process done on them. He was making money from every direction, it seems."

"You brought back three young girls that I have to get back to their families. That's going to cause complications as well. I might just hold up on returning them until we sift through the information we're going to release. My sources tell me that the FBI has an ongoing investigation on certain aspects of these slavers. We're going to winnow the information Ingles gave us and give the FBI what we can. With all that, even the fucking FBI won't be able to screw it up — I hope. If the international agencies will get their act together, maybe they can hit this bunch on the other end as well."

The two men sat thinking for a time, then, "You also brought back fourteen fucking million dollars," Whitworth announced as if Jeff didn't know it.

" ... And account numbers, passwords, etc. to several offshore accounts," Jeff added. "We didn't have time to check their balances."

"I'm going to have a bonus put in your team's next payday," Whitworth said, though it almost sounded like it hurt to say it.

"Thanks," Jeff said. "They'll appreciate it."

"What about Madison? He got a fucking in court didn't he?"

"He pretty much volunteered to split everything down the middle with his wife, but yeah, he lost a lot. I kept some out to compensate him," Jeff said.

Whitworth raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment for a moment. "And you?"

"No, Sir. I don't need it."

Whitworth started to say something, but just closed his mouth instead.

The silence extended for a moment while both men thought. "Now I suppose you're going to drag off my anthropologist?" Without waiting for an answer, the general went on. "That asshole she's been working with turned in a poor evaluation on her, claiming all the credit himself. The evaluation was totally opposite from the one her immediate superior gave her, however. Shit, I'm about tired of Wagner. He keeps raising hell with the colonel wanting to publish. No matter how many times we tell the arrogant shit that we're not going public with the portal technology, he keeps coming back wanting to get credit for something his team has discovered at one of the sites. If he ever figures out how to get past the blocks, he's going to get my ass in deep shit." Whitworth re-crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head. "I think one of his assistants is doing most of the work Wagner is getting credit for, anyway. It's about time that assistant got promoted and my little problem went away."

Jeff let the silence drag for a moment. "Fisher has six weeks R and R."

"Yeah, and by then, she'll be number eight in your household. Oh, well, you've made a drug dealer out of me, and brought me fourteen million dollars at the same time. I might need her expertise from time to time, though. Read me clearly," he finished, his voice changing.

"Yes, Sir. Uh, it's nine instead of seven," Jeff said, his speech stumbling a little. "Uh, before Fisher, that is — if she stays, it'll be ten, I guess," Jeff said, fighting not to flinch as the general's head snapped around.

"Shit," Whitworth said. After a moment, he got up. "Want some more coffee? How about a fucking case of Viagra?" he said as he poured himself another cup, and despite himself, let the grin tickle the corners of his mouth. I let him concoct this mission, knowing damn well he was going mainly to kill that cocksucker, and he brings me back fourteen million dollars. The last time it was a fucking spaceship he brought back. I could throw him in a fucking cesspool and he would come up with a fucking diamond necklace in his teeth.

"Yeah," Jeff stood, refusing to meet the general's twinkling eyes as he walked over with his cup.

"Wish I could talk you into coming back and working with us full time," Whitworth said as he poured.

Jeff looked the general in the eye, knowing that wasn't just an idle comment. "I've given you several years of my life. But I have a family, and Diana was just about terrified for me to leave to come here. Even way back, it didn't take her long to challenge me on our 'training mission' alibi. I haven't told her anything, but she's familiar with the concept of black ops. She's smart, and she darn sure wasn't standing behind the door when God gave out curiosity, either. She's figured out enough that she doesn't even try to ask me much anymore, and what one of my wives knows, the others know shortly. There's a lot of intelligence rolled up in the package of them.

"And Fisher wasn't hiding behind that door, either. Some of the guys talked her into a poker game while we were killing time at the staging area. Judging by the wad of money she stuffed in her pocket when her time came for guard duty, some of them learned the hard way that she's more than a pretty face."

"If she won with that bunch, I think I'll pass up a chance to play with her," Whitworth said.

As they both returned to their seats, the general touched a recessed button on his desk. A section of wall about six feet wide suddenly changed from what appeared to be a painting of a forest scene to a view of the spaceship sitting in the underground hanger. The picture was so clear and intense that Jeff sat forward in his seat. If they had been looking through a window, it would not have been as clear.

Whitworth pressed a control on his desktop and the picture zoomed in on two of the techs who were standing near the gangway of the ship. A couple more nudges on the controls and Jeff and Whitworth could see separate hairs of a five o'clock shadow and the pores in the skin on one man's face.

Jeff looked a question at the general.

"Puts normal high-def to shame, doesn't it?" he grinned. "This is a prototype, of course. The scientists say there are still a couple of bugs in it, though. When they're finished, I think I'm going to let your buddy, Wainwright, market it for us. He's already sold a couple of items for us, but he didn't know who he was dealing with. This should be a good moneymaker, too. I'm not totally free of government funding, yet, but I'm getting close."

The general took another sip of coffee. "Why haven't you mentioned the ship?"

Jeff knew it was coming, but still didn't know how to answer him. Thinking about the things he knew about the ship, both from the trip home, and from the things Little One had told him, he hesitated. Instead of answering the general directly, he said, "Did you take my suggestion about how to treat the pilot who had mental problems after trying to pilot the ship?"

"Yeah," Whitworth said, frowning. "Nothing much happened the first time we put him in the tank, but six months later when you suggested we try it again, it worked. Well at least to a point. He appears to be normal, but he won't even walk into the hangar with the ship. He won't talk about it; won't say a thing about the ship — just refuses to go near the thing. And just how did you know the healing tank would work on him the second time we tried it?"

Jeff blew out a breath. "I didn't really. I guess you could call it a hunch. Too bad the other guy died. So how is the investigation coming along?"

The general tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk. "We've learned a few things, then we seem to hit a plateau where we go for a long time and learn nothing. About the time we decide to give up in disgust, we learn something else.

"Once there were somewhere around twenty scientists and technicians in the thing. All of a sudden they came running out. I mean running out. They, to a person, claimed to have suddenly been overcome with terror, but nobody could tell us what they were frightened of. An hour later, they all went back inside and took up their duties. Weird."

"Shit, that is weird," Jeff agreed.

Whitworth changed the subject again, "What about other drugs. I just scanned over that part in the interrogation."

"He had a regular pharmacy in his walk-in safe. One of the techs tells me there was everything you could imagine that you could get in a pharmacy for uppers and downers. And with illegal drugs, there was marijuana, hash, opium, cocaine, crack, meth — hell, everything."

"So he was selling drugs, too?"

"Not really. At least, I don't think so to any great degree — other than the drugs to control the women. Heck, the people he was dealing with are probably running illegal drugs into this country by the ton. I think he just had everything to hand that any of his clientele might want while they were having their sex parties."

"I see you dumped your laptop's files into the system when you got back, but I don't see Richardson's after-action report."

"I told him to sleep tonight and finish it tomorrow. He and Gomez have been up for forty-eight hours straight, other than a catnap here and there."

"So everything went down without a hitch?"

"Pretty much. We didn't even have to go to plan B," Jeff chuckled.

"Well, that's a first," Whitworth laughed. "Where the hell was Murphy?"

"We shot the son-of-a-bitch," Jeff laughed.

-------

One version of Murphy's law: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Murphy's corollary: At the worst possible time and in the worst possible way.

O'Toole's Commentary: Murphy was a fucking optimist.



-------

Chapter 33

THURSDAY — OCTOBER 3, A LITTLE EARLIER IN THE DAY

Fred, wearing baggy trunks, and the three women wearing "modest" bikinis, stood on the beach. "Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh," Jessica said as she grabbed Fred's hand. "I knew I would love this. I mean I've seen pictures and videos, but looking at it for real, it's..."

"So big," Fred offered as he put his arm around the teenager. "It's the Atlantic ocean," he laughed. "It's supposed to be big. But, you've seen it from the Cruiser as we drove in."

"Yeah, but now we're standing next to it. Look at all the sand," she said, gouging her toes in. Then glancing back up, "Oh, look. What kind of ship is that way out there?"

"That's a tanker. See the one to the right even farther out?"

"Hey," Jessica said, "that's a cruise ship, isn't it?"

"Looks like it to me," Fred laughed.

"The sand is so ... nice," she said looking around at the people lying around sunning themselves.

"If you like this beach, you'll really love some of the others. Oh, this is beautiful all right, but wait till you walk out on the beach at Pensacola, Fort Walton or Panama City. You can't even open your eyes without sun glasses, the sand is so white."

"Can I go for a swim," Jessica said over her shoulder to her mother, but already heading for the water, anyway.

Laughing as Jessica rushed ahead of them, Carla said, "She is wide open, isn't she? I do believe she likes Florida."

Quickly putting their stuff down, they trotted after Jessica. When they caught up with her, she was hesitantly standing in water up to her hips. "What about sharks? Several people get bitten every year. I've seen it on the news."

"Oh, if you see one, just run," Fred advised while trying to keep his face straight.

"But, but, you can't run in water," Jessica said as they waded out until it was almost up to her breasts, each of them bracing themselves as the next wave hit. She shaded her eyes to look at Fred as the sunlight reflected from the water. Then, "You're making fun of me. I can see that grin you're trying to hide."

Fred pulled her to him for a hug. "Yeah, I was just teasing. I have been here a bunch of times, though, and the only sharks I've seen were just showing a fin, and they were way out. I'm not even sure they were sharks, actually. If one is close, though, I suspect the best thing to do is just slowly ease away."

A little later, a water fight ensued, but a bigger wave came along and hit them while they weren't paying any attention. Jessica and Fred were left standing, but Carla and Audrey were washed over.

A moment later, when the sputtering was over, Jessica jumped and thrashed around in the water, then tried to climb Fred like he was a ladder. "Something touched my leg," she hissed out, her voice trembling.

Fred, when he could talk after the laughter, almost told her it was a shark, but thought better of it when he realized how frantic she already was. "Probably just a fish or a piece of driftwood," he said. "Did you see anything?"

"No, just a blur in the water."

"I don't see any jellyfish, so I doubt that anything will hurt you — except ... we need to get some sun block on or all of us are going to be cooked in short order. Even with the lotion, we're not going to stay out here long today. I've learned my lesson about Florida. It's no fun to get cooked all over your body. Makes for a miserable vacation. And with those bikinis, there's a lot of skin to cook," he laughed.

Walking back to the beach, they rented two big beach umbrellas and spread out their towels under them. The crowd from summer was long gone, and there was only a sparse number of people on the beach. Most were older folks, and a few families with smaller kids not yet in school. Some of the people were obviously late vacationers, though. Fred and his group had moved away from what little crowd there was and found a spot a couple hundred yards from the lifeguard tower.

While Jeff and the team had been returning from Ingles' destroyed house after a record snowstorm, Fred lay on his stomach while Audrey and Carla rubbed sunblock into his back and legs. Audrey looked around her, but there was no one close. Grinning, she slipped a hand up the baggy leg of Fred's trunks to tease his balls. He jerked.

"Don't start something you can't finish, Young Lady," he laughed, turning his head to look back at her.

"Well, maybe I can't, but all of us together did a pretty good job last night."

"Yeah, but unless I get a lot better in a hurry, he's going to have to settle for a blow-job tonight," Carla said as she knelt at Fred's head and worked sunblock into his shoulders.

Fred reached up and gently ran a hand between Carla's legs. She hissed in a breath and shivered at the welcome sensation. He smiled up at her, then with compassion, "I didn't mean to make you sore, Baby."

"Yeah, well, I didn't have to ride you that last time, either. You were gentle when you were driving; when it was my turn to steer, I got carried away. My womb liked slamming down on your cock last night, but she's paying for it now."

"I'm sorry, Baby."

"Oh, hush up, you big lunk. I know darn well I had to have slept with a grin on my face, sore pussy or not."

"Ladies, I love all the backhanded compliments you're giving out, but you're going to have to quit, or I'll have to lie on my stomach all day. If you keep on and I roll over, I'm going to be in trouble for sure."

Jessica, who had been sitting quietly as she put on sunblock, closed the top of the bottle and leaned over to whisper in Fred's ear. "Suppose we can stand out there in chest-deep water and you can stick that big thing up me?"

"Ughhhh," Fred complained as he felt his cock begin to swell. "Baby, I would love to do that, but that lifeguard and that cop by the tower probably wouldn't see it as funny if we did it with those families there able to see. I'm sure it goes on all the time, but it would be obvious what we're doing. Sometime later in the trip, we'll be on a beach about dark, and we'll do it then."

Jessica rolled her lip out as if she were pouting. "Oh, I'll bet that cop would love to watch."

Fred chuckled as he swapped places with the women and began rubbing sunblock into Carla's back. Glancing in the direction of the cop, "I'm sure he's already checked out you guys. He's been looking this way a lot with those binoculars."

"Well, we're not showing him much," Carla chimed in. "We didn't wear our smallest bikinis. These things could almost be called two-piece suits. You got all stuffy when we started putting on our real bikini's, remember?"

"The micros are fine for the lake at the RV park, and for a lot of beaches, or heck, even this one when there are a lot of young folks out here, but ... I don't know, those micros just didn't seem appropriate with a lot of old folks and young families out today."

"So, how did you know who would be here?" Jessica asked, then the answer became obvious, when she realized what time of year it was, and a weekday, besides.

"Bullshit," Carla said. "He just doesn't want other guys sniffing his pussy."

"Yep," Fred said when the giggling died down. "Besides that, I can't walk around with a hard-on out here in public, and if you had worn those things, I wouldn't have been able to help it."

"Ohhh, he says the nicest things," Audrey giggled. "Well a little crude ... but nice, anyway."

-------

Later, they had walked back up to the street and found a hotdog stand. Sitting at a picnic table near the beach, they ate lunch, Fred occasionally grabbing someone's hand when Brenda wanted to say something to the women. They had gotten into a routine so when he obviously touched someone, they would all touch in order to hear Brenda. They were careful when people were around, but an observer would have been sure they were all nuts when they grabbed each other, then a few seconds later they would all laugh, then go on with their eating.

Back at the beach, they rented floats and played in the water for a while, but Fred was becoming concerned about sunburn, even with the repeated slathering of sunblock. While Carla's and Jessica's arms and faces were tanned, the rest of their bodies were not. Audrey was much the same, though with even less tan.

"Let's go, ladies. We can do this again tomorrow if you wish, but we need to get out of the sun before we cook."

"Spoilsport," Jessica said as she tried, unsuccessfully to push Fred from his float. He reached over and pushed down hard on the side of her float, dumping her in the chest-deep water. As she stood, the next wave lifted her, presenting her breasts nicely as they seemed to float on the water for an instant before the swell passed on.

Fred quickly averted his eyes as Fred Jr. started to swell. Shit, I'm like a teenager. Every time I look at a pair of tits, my dick gets hard. Whatever you did to me, Jeff, bless your soul.

A few minutes later, "What's that look on your face?" Jessica demanded as they pulled their floats the last few feet to shore.

"Just thinking how lucky I am," Fred answered with sincerity.

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" Carla, who was a little ahead of them, said as she brought them towels.

They returned the floats and the beach umbrellas, repacked the towels and other things they had brought into their backpacks. "We can shower and change over there," Fred said.

"Sounds good," Carla agreed.

They were taking one last look at the ocean when Fred glanced down the beach.

Three unkempt-looking guys wearing jeans and tee-shirts walked by three people lying on the beach sunning. Both women and the man with them were overweight, but not hugely fat. The women and man were all in their forties. The taller of the guys deliberately kicked sand at one of the two women.

The woman said something to the punk who kicked sand on her, and he reached down and yanked her bathing suit top to her stomach. Her large breasts wobbled as she shrieked and grabbed for her top. The man lying between the women said something and started to get up when the scumbag put his foot against the man's chest and shoved hard. The man sprawled on his back as the three sauntered away, laughing.

By then, Fred's three women had followed his gaze and saw the end of the little episode. Fred could tell when the three men focused on them. There was a short, laughing comment or two among the three assholes before they started purposfully toward Fred's group.

"Ah,  shit," Fred said under his breath.

"We had better go," Audrey said as she glanced nervously at Fred, then back at the approaching men, the leers already visible on their faces. It was obvious they were coming straight to them.

Fred stared at the men, "Too late. All of you stay behind me."

Jessica tensed up. "No fucking way. There are three of them and only one of you."

Carla looked toward the tower. "Where the hell is that cop? I see his ATV, but I don't see him."

"Fred, don't you take any risks. Just put them down hard. End it quickly before they have time to hurt you. Baby, I don't like this. Do it like you did in that little town in Poland. There were four of them then, but you walked away, and none of them did. You're not a cop anymore, so you don't have to be nice to them. Do it the way you used to. I don't like the looks of this," Brenda repeated in his mind.

Fred could see the needle tracks on their arms, even smell the men when the wind shifted as the three reached them.

The tall one in the middle elbowed his buddy on the right, "Well butter my ass and call me a biscuit; sure looks like we got us some fine pussy."

"Fuck you," Jessica snarled. "It's not your pussy."

"Well, fuck you, too, Bitch," the one in front of Jessica said as he reached out and snatched her bikini top down with one hand and tried to pull her to him with the other hand. Her breasts bobbed in front of his face, distracting him. He had thought she would shriek and reach for her top, like the other woman had, but she grabbed his shoulders for leverage and stepped toward him instead of trying to pull away as he expected. Jessica did what her dad had made her practice hundreds of times against a sack of feed. She slammed her knee upward with all the strength of a gal raised on a farm and ranch. Then in rapid succession repeated the vicious thrusts.

Thank you, Daddy,  she said in her mind as she felt her knee slam the guy's balls against his pelvic bone, the shock even hurting her knee. She drew back and rammed upward again, harder, pulling down hard on his shoulders in order to hit with maximum force, driving her knee into his pelvic bone — just as Carla swung from somewhere south of Key West.  (Island on the southern tip of Florida) She had carefully doubled her fist tightly as Sam had taught her. She put everything she had into the blow, following through with her shoulder and the weight of her body, pumped by adrenaline and desperation, to help the man she loved more than life itself, and to protect her daughter.

The blow landed slightly to the right side of his face, high on his cheekbone, her center knuckle hitting the side of his eye directly. Jessica drew back and slammed her knee upward again, but missed as her target collapsed backward. Pulling himself into a heap, he vomited on the sand, then shuddered trying to pull in a breath past the pain, his mind tottering on the verge of consciousness. He shuddered again and lay still.

At the same time that Jessica rammed her knee upward for the first time, the guy to Fred's right swung at him. Fred saw it coming from body language, and could have blocked it with his Alpha reflexes, but let the blow land, anyway, just above his right eye. He didn't even bother to shake his head. Almost negligently, he swung a vicious backfist at his assailant, his arm a blur.

There was a sickening crunch as Fred's big fist, driven by the Alpha's shoulder muscles, landed. Audrey, not knowing anything about fighting, but furious because her man had been attacked, launched herself to tackle the guy from behind, her arms extended to grab him around the waist. Instead of Audrey knocking him forward, Fred's blow had spun him partway around and toward the ground. Audrey and the guy wound up going to the sand with him lying across her legs.

Madder than hell, she yanked her legs free and struggled to her knees. She began hitting him in the face with wild, uncoordinated punches, screaming, "You son-of-a-bitch. You son-of-a bitch."  Struggling to her feet, she kicked him in the head with the heel of her bare foot. Only then did she realize he was out.

Just as Fred backhanded the guy, the tall one reached behind himself and palmed a push knife. As he punched toward Fred's left side, the big man saw movement. Shifting his weight backward and starting to spin away from his assailant, he moved his center of mass and reached with his left hand as the arm came across his body. Fred felt a burn across his side and chest. His left hand clamped down on the arm as it passed by, the grip leaving a bruise that would last for days.

When Fred felt the burn, he knew he had been cut. Brenda yelled in his mind, "I knew you were going to act like a cop and be good to him. Now you've let him cut you. Fuck the take-down — kill the son-of-a-bitch."

Fred ignored her directions, but his anger had been kindled, anyway. Instead of killing him, Fred grasped his assailant's right hand with his as he had taught his rookies to do for years. He would have normally pushed inward until the assailant dropped the knife, but knowing he had been cut, folded the wrist inward with a vengeance and the strength of an enhanced Alpha. The snap of the bone was clearly audible as the wrist pulled apart, the push knife dropping from the assailant's nerveless fingers as his palm slapped against the inside of his own arm.

The scream that came from the guy's throat didn't even sound human. He collapsed to his knees, then onto his side, only to draw a ragged breath and scream again.

Fred grabbed Audrey and pulled her back as she aimed another kick at the guy she had attacked. "He's out, Baby," he said. Audrey didn't give a shit; she wanted to kick him again. This scumbag had hit her man.

Fred had been aware that Jessica and Carla had taken the other man down. As he started to turn to them, Audrey screamed as her eyes focused on Fred's chest.

When he realized where she was looking, he looked downward at himself in amazement. With the anger and adrenalin, the cut hadn't hurt enough to be serious — or so he thought. There was a sheet of blood flowing downward — a thick sheet — from his left side to the middle of his chest. I must have been turning when he stabbed out with that fucking push knife, he thought as he saw the knife laying on the sand.

"I told you to end it. Now you've let the bastard cut you," Brenda hissed in his mind.

"It's not deep," Fred said as both Carla and Jessica screamed out his name as they realized what Audrey was screaming about.

"The hell it's not," Carla said as she stepped closer and examined the long cut. Then, "Fuck,  everything we have has sand on it. I need something to put pressure on it to slow the bleeding down."

"It's not that bad..." Fred started as the cop came to a sliding stop on his ATV.

"The hell it's not," Carla repeated, trying to keep the terror out of her voice. "Now lie down on your back and let me get that wound closed. That's your life's blood pouring out of you. Sit down!"

"Oh, shit!" the cop said as he saw the blood. He turned away and keyed his lapel mike, calling for the paramedics and an ambulance.

"You got a first aid kit on that thing?" Carla yelled at the cop, much too loudly for the distance they were apart.

"Uh, yes Ma'am," the young cop said as he turned to his ATV.

"Well, get it," Carla yelled to him, taking out her anger from the fight on the hapless policeman.

As the cop took the kit out of his ATV, Jessica snatched it out of his hand and ran to her mother with it.

"You call this a fucking first aid kit?" Carla snarled as she snatched out two small rolls of gauze, handed a roll to Jessica, kept one for herself, and turned back to Fred.

"It's not that bad," Fred insisted as he tried to look down at himself, "let's not make a mountain out of a mole hill."

"Shut the fuck up, Baby," Carla said, her body still pumped full of adrenalin, but her voice was soft and loving to him. "It's deep and it's long. That blade would have gone straight into your heart if you hadn't turned just in time. I need to slow the bleeding. Now lie back and trust me. I've put pressure on injuries many times on the farm. I know what to do."

"Shit we don't have enough to go around him and leave enough to cover the wound the way we need," she mumbled. The gauze prepared as best they could with what they had to work with, she and Jessica used their hands to press against the eighteen inch long cut, Audrey trying to help, also. Fred's chest, side, belly and his swim trunks were covered in blood. A steady stream flowed off his side into the sand. Unnoticed by the women, Jessica's blood-covered breasts bobbed as she frantically tried to push where the largest flows of blood were coming from.

"Paramedics in five minutes," the cop said as he snapped a pair of handcuffs on the one Audrey had kicked. Seeing the push knife on the sand, he put it in a compartment on his ATV. Having been snarled at for even coming close to Fred, he checked the one with crushed balls, retrieved a second set of handcuffs from his ATV and handcuffed him for safety. Obviously the one still screaming about his dangling wrist wasn't going to harm anyone, so the cop just grabbed him from behind and dragged him back a few feet to be out of the way.

Fred had finally decided that he might be hurt a little worse than he thought. Relaxing on the sand, he closed his eyes and concentrated on being quiet and slowing his heartbeat. He became even more serious as he tried to calculate how much blood he had really lost. Not liking the answer and feeling the flow of blood down his side, he tried to bring back the memory of something his martial arts instructor had taught him many years ago. He had done it once; maybe he could do it again. The dizziness he was beginning to feel from the blood loss only added to his determination.

"Fred!"

Hush, Baby. I can do this.

"Why in the fuck didn't you just get the women out of the way and take those scumbags out?"

Hush, Baby. I fucked up.

"You were worried about the women, and also didn't want to hurt those punks any more than you had to. You're not a cop anymore. You should have taken them out."

I know, Baby. I know. I fucked up. Now be quiet and let me concentrate.

"All right. I'll shut up, but this conversation isn't over. Not by a long fucking shot."

Fred slowed his breathing and centered his being.

The first cop grabbed the paramedic as he rushed by. "Go easy. Those women are in some type of protection mode, and they aren't the scratch-your-eyes out kind, either. They don't even think about scratching. They took that guy down over there. Trust me. Talk to that one there before you try to help," he said nodding his head in Carla's direction. "You put your hands on that guy before she gives permission and they'll all be on you."

"What the fuck happened?" the paramedic asked as he looked around at the people lying on the ground, suddenly flashing back to his year in Iraq.

Pointing, the cop said, "These three attacked the big guy there and the three women. I guarantee the whole thing didn't last five seconds. I saw it go down, but I was too far away to do anything. The big guy is cut bad. Fuck those scumbags over there."

"You got it," the paramedic said hurrying to Fred.

The paramedic put his box down and knelt next to Fred. "Ma'am, I'm a paramedic. Let me see, please."

Carla's head snapped around like a mother lion protecting her cub. Recognition dawned on her, and the expression on her face changed. "Deep cut from his right side extending around to the center of his chest. Ribs showing there; sternum there," she said, nodding her head. "Several big bleeders. We're holding pressure, and we're not moving our hands until you're ready."

Carla moved aside to give the paramedic room, but kept her hands in place. "Don't move your hands at all," the paramedic said. "I'm just going to add to what you have." Quickly, he prepared several gauze packs, then three full rolls of gauze. "These rolls need to be held in place over the packs for leverage to help add to the pressure of the bandage. Here Ma'am," he said to Audrey. "Hold these rolls for a minute until we get this thicker bandage over yours. That's it," he said as he maneuvered the packs into place. "Move your fingers just a second. There now. Good. Now you two, put the full rolls here, here and here and hold them until I get the tape around him. That's it. Lets sit him up for a second so I can get this tape around him. The full rolls will press hard against what we've got. That's it. One more time around with the tape. Good. Okay, Sir. Let's ease you back down. Put your fingers back here and here, Ma'am. There, just a few little leaks left."

Turning to the cop. "ETA on that ambulance."

"Three minutes," the cop answered after a short conversation on the radio. Then, "Where's your buddy today?"

"City is cutting back on expenses," the paramedic answered as he slipped an IV catheter into a big vein on Fred's arm. "No overtime. Without overtime, we sometimes have to ride single."

"Yeah, us too," the cop answered.

"He's a retired police officer," Carla said out of the blue.

"From where?" the cop asked as he focused intently on her.

"Atlanta, I think, or one of the towns close by. I really don't know."

"He doesn't look old enough to retire. Sir, where did you work?" the cop asked.

Jessica's head snapped up when Fred didn't answer.

"Fred?" she said. There was no response.

"Fred!" the women chorused.

"Easy, Ma'am," the paramedic told Carla. "He's probably just passed out from blood loss. I'll have the Ringers started in a moment. It'll help a little, and we have most of the blood stopped now."

Although the paramedic had been trying to assure the women, he had wondered to himself why the streams of blood coming from under the gauze had drastically slowed so quickly, then seemed to stop just as suddenly. He knew the big man had bled a lot, but he certainly hadn't bled out yet. The pressure bandage helped, of course, but he had never seen it help that quickly on so big a wound. The IV started, he turned it wide open, then listened to Fred's heart again with his stethoscope. He almost panicked when he didn't hear a heartbeat at first — but then he did. Strong, but very, very slow. Shortly, he was taking Fred's blood pressure when another paramedic ran up.

"What we got?" the second paramedic said.

"Scumbags there," he said nodding his head, "attacked these people. Cut him from his side to the center of his chest. BP 50 over 30. Heart rate is about six beats a minute, but it's steady at that rate and strong."

"But ... his heart rate should be up — way up — with that much blood loss."

"Yeah, I know. Weird. Let's get him ready to transport. He's as stable as I can get him."

As the paramedics prepared to slip the board under Fred's back, Carla put her hand back on Fred. "Brenda, what's going on with him?" she said aloud.

Brenda's voice came back strong, with a sense of love and almost awe that Carla hadn't felt before. "He's here with me. All around me. Not just me in his mind like before. I don't know how to describe it, but I like it. The heart rate is something he learned from his karate instructor when we were young. Fred said he had managed it one time, but also said that none of the other students could ever do it. It some kind of trance or something. He's doing it to slow the bleeding. When we get to the emergency room, tell the doctor so he doesn't try to give Fred anything to speed up his heart. Fred will take care of that when he needs to." 

"Tell him we love him," Carla said as the paramedics looked at her as if she were crazy.

Carla leaned close to the first paramedic's face, and in a voice that brooked no argument, "He's in a self-induced trance. He's slowing his heart himself. Be sure you tell the emergency room doctor that. Understand!"

"I will, Ma'am," the paramedic assured her, wondering what in the fuck was going on, but he never doubted her.

The second paramedic peeked under the side of the bandage. "He's clotting already."

"No way," the first paramedic said, then looked where the bandage was being held up for him. "Shit. I've never seen clotting this quickly before, especially on this big a wound. It's impossible."

The second paramedic turned away to help the other men on the ground as the ambulance personnel came running up with a stretcher. "This ain't gonna be fun," one of them said as he saw Fred's size.

"I'm going in the ambulance with you," Carla said.

"No," the paramedic interrupted. "Get your clothes changed and the blood washed off over there," he finished, pointing at the showers. "I'm going to ride in the ambulance with him."

"But, I'm a paramedic," the other ambulance person said.

"I know, but there is going to be two this time. Don't argue. Let's go."

"But where..." Carla started.

The cop stepped close, "Just get cleaned up a little and get your street clothes on. I'll show you where to go."

Carla squeezed his hand. "Thank you."

The two ambulance personnel struggled across the sand with their burden, the paramedic walking beside them holding the IV bag.

Carla looked at her daughter and Audrey. "Let's get it done."

"But is he going to be all right?" Jessica whispered. "And what did Brenda say?"

"I'll tell you while we're changing."



-------

Chapter 34


Thursday — October 3, Later in the Day

The ambulance had left with Fred. Carla, Jessica and Audrey had enough of a shower to get the blood and sand off, then hurriedly put on shorts and tops. As soon as they came out of the shower, the cop was waiting for them.

"We're in a silver P.T. Cruiser over there in the parking lot," Carla said, pointing.

"Sarge had one of the guys swap out with me. I'm going to use his car while he covers for me here on the beach. I need to do a report on this mess, anyway, and I can't complete it here, particularly, with everyone gone to the hospital. I'll walk up to the lot with you."

"Just so we hurry," Audrey said. "I'm worried sick."

"He's gonna be fine, Ma'am. That looked like a lot of blood, but he's a big man. You watch; he'll be fine."

"How long have the others been gone," Carla said, looking back down the beach as they started walking toward the parking lot.

"The last one just left. The guy your friend backhanded has some bones broken in his cheek. The paramedic said he thought the one you kneed, Ma'am," he continued as he turned to Jessica, "has a torn femoral artery. His, uh..."

"Balls," Carla offered, straight-faced.

"Uh, yes Ma'am. You could tell they looked like softballs even through his jeans," the young cop said, embarrassed. "Now, when we get started, you take it easy driving. You just follow me, and I'm not going to be speeding. You know it's going to be hurry up and wait when we get to the hospital, anyway."

A couple minutes later, Carla took a deep breath as they all stood next to the Cruiser. "I need to apologize to you for all the yelling. I was pissed and took it out on you."

The cop laughed. "If that's the worst I get today, I'll be tickled. Heck, Sarge has already taken a strip off my butt for not getting there in time to stop those punks before they attacked you people. Besides, your little bit of yelling was worth it to see you guys take those scumbags down." Pointing, "Okay, my car is way over there. Just hold up and let me lead. The hospital is only fifteen minutes or so away."

The women piled into the cruiser and watched the young cop jog over to the patrol car. Shortly, they were following him to the hospital.

-------

"I thought you would be taking a nap," Jeff said as he walked into his quarters.

Kayla got up from the chair where she had been waiting. Coming to him, she put her arms around him. "Hug me, please."

"Hey, everything's done now. What's the problem?" he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

Her voice was muffled against his chest as she replied. "Those poor girls. I've just been to see them and it makes me remember them huddled in that cage in Ingles' basement. That bastard. How could he do that to them? They were all virgins until that ... that ... animal raped their virginity from them." Jeff could feel her shudder in his arms. "And those rooms. The first one was bad enough with all the sex toys, but the other room with all that torture stuff ... How could he do that to another human being?"

Jeff sighed. "And he was far from being the only one involved in this."

"At least you killed him," Kayla quietly said.

"Now, who says I killed him? He might have died from natural causes," Jeff said, but the chuckle slipped out, anyway.

"Well, it was either you or Captain Madison. Either way, it was you in the end; the whole mission was yours."

"Medic's report says he died from an apparent heart attack."

"Yeah, right," Kayla sarcastically said. "The operative word there is 'apparent' heart attack."

Jeff hesitated a moment, "And does that bother you?"

Kayla pulled back a little so she could look up at him. "It makes me want to kiss you."

"Well, I guess if that's my punishment, I'll just have to bear up under it," he said as he put his lips to hers.

Later, they sat in the corner of the officers' mess as they finished their meal. "Kayla, are you sure about this?"

"Diana and I talked for hours. I'm sure. She said you were an Alpha — a Prime."

Jeff sighed. "Some of this is a bit daunting, and a lot of this to do with Alphas is ... strange. But we need to understand each other. As best my wives and I can determine, there are several ways for an Alpha to call a female. The Alpha and the female can simply fall in love; any slight transfer of body fluids will probably do it over time, also; the Alpha can do it with a sort of mental push, and ... if the Alpha makes love with the woman and his semen goes inside her ... Kayla, there's no going back once this is done, no matter the way. The woman is hooked for life and the Alpha is, too — if what my wives think is true. But Baby, you'll be number ten."

"I had rather be the one on the bottom of the totem pole, than to not be there at all," Kayla whispered — and you're not just an Alpha, you're an Alpha Prime.

Jeff sighed. "I don't think it works like that about being on the bottom. Diana is my Queen, and is doubtless the boss of my wives, but I love all of them equally. I've never seen anything to make me think that anyone is on the bottom of the 'totem pole, ' and there's no reason to think it will happen now, either. Obviously, I feel an extreme attraction for you, and somehow Diana felt that attraction, too — or something. Oh, and Arlene is a Queen, too. I guess she got sucked into staying in our family when things went bad for us at the beginning of the summer. So the girls sort of look to her for direction. Hell, it all sounds weird, but it works just fine."

Kayla laid her hand on Jeff's for a moment, but not wanting to be obvious to the others in the room, she reluctantly took her hand back. "Diana told me all that. She even told me that you wouldn't take me here at the base, but would give me 'wiggle room' to change my mind. I know I don't need it, and she knows I don't need it, so when we get back, I'm going to demand my place — if you want me," she quickly amended.

"I want you, Kayla," Jeff chuckled under his breath, "plus, you're a beautiful woman, and you're smart, even if you do lie a little bit."

"Lie? When did I lie?"

"The poker game: 'Well, I've played it a little... '" Jeff mimicked. "You suckered the ones who were going to sucker you."

Kayla chuckled with him. "Well, we had time on our hands on occasion after we had spent a day digging through the ruins of that society. The guys figured out they couldn't get in my pants, so they let me play poker with them. Originally, I learned to play at Quantico at the FBI academy, for about the same reasons. I slapped a few faces, both off-planet and at Quantico. One of them called me the 'Ice Queen, ' and someone started a rumor that I was a lesbian. But eventually, they quit bugging me. I'm not a virgin, but I'm not easy, either. You won't have to worry whether anyone here has been inside me — they haven't."

"So you've been sitting around waiting for me?" Jeff teased.

Instead of laughing, Kayla seriously said, "I would have been if I had known about you before I got to the base. But I haven't slept with a man — or woman, or had any kind of sexual relations with anyone — since I left college. And I was very discreet even then. I knew I would meet my husband one day, and I didn't want him to be ashamed of the things I had done before I did meet him."

"Kayla, I don't know what to say..."

"Just take me with you like Diana has planned. I can ... feel you — and to a lesser degree, your wives. I knew it at the kitchen table while I sat there trying to evaluate everyone. That's never happened to me before. Major, please, take me with you. I know this will work."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm positive."

Later, they were walking back to Jeff's quarters when Kayla's phone beeped. "Fisher," she answered.

Listening intently, " ... Yes, Sir ... Uh, yes, Sir. But Sir, you gave me permission for six weeks R & R. I haven't taken any time off at all — not in two years ... Yes, Sir. I'll be waiting for the sergeant." She closed the phone.

"Let's get to your room," she said when Jeff asked her what was going on. Shortly, inside Jeff's quarters, Kayla collapsed against him. "That son-of-a-bitch. He cancelled my leave. He said he didn't have any choice; the general sent word to do it. There is a sergeant that I don't even know who is coming to bring my orders for my new mission. Why are they doing this to me? I'll bet it's Wagner whose doing this. That bastard has been after me ever since I turned him down..."

There were two loud raps on Jeff's door. Kayla pulled away from him, composing herself. Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice, "Come."

"Ma'am. Sir," a young sergeant said as he entered and held out a packet. "Your orders, Ma'am. Also I'm to tell you that a psychologist will be here soon to brief you."

The sergeant saluted and left. Before Kayla could open her orders, there was another knock on the door.

"Kayla, I'm going to give you two some privacy," Jeff said after the psychologist came in. "I'll be back in thirty minutes or so."

-------

Almost as soon as the door closed behind him, Jeff's phone beeped with a message to see the general.

A few minutes later, Jeff sat in the general's office. "I forgot to tell you something. A woman's body was recovered from a small river in the Teton region. She probably would never have been identified, but we've been watching for information and picked up on it. Dental records identified her as the woman who was responsible for Hagewood's release. Strange that the woman who was responsible for allowing him a signature bond should quit her job and go missing, isn't it? Then turn up dead hundreds of miles away, huh?"

"So there's more to this than just revenge for my kicking his ass?" Jeff mused. "I had a bad feeling about this from the beginning, particularly when he just flat disappeared, he and that dickhead son of his."

The general agreed. "Doesn't make any sense for him to kill the woman who got him out. There's obviously more to this. I'm pushing the FBI to investigate, but so far there has been nothing. Hell, if we hadn't picked up on the dead body, she would probably never have been connected with the woman who released Hagewood.

"All right, enough of that." The general stared at Jeff for a moment, "Well, you just fucked me again," he said, an odd look on his face, "but I'm going to fuck you back this time."

"But what..."

"The psychologist has been interviewing those girls you brought back, and the geeks have been doing some research. Seems like this organization has roots even in our childcare systems. To make a long story short — and obviously we're guessing on some of this — the girls are orphans, and apparently selected for their beauty by someone in the childcare system. They were then sent to a foster home where they heard something that spooked them. They tried to run away just before their pickup, but were caught and brought, eventually, to Ingles.

"That's about all the information we're sure of right now. But the childcare agencies are definitely into this kidnapping thing, as evidenced by the girls' files having been deleted. As far as their system is concerned, the girls never existed. But as you well know, a novice can't really delete computer files — at least not from the people who work for me.

"The bottom line: I don't have anywhere to send these girls, and they damned sure can't stay here. They no longer exist in the childcare system, and I damn sure wouldn't send them back there, anyway. The foster home is probably corrupt, as well as the agency that sent them there. I've gotten the FBI interested in these people as possible feeders to an interstate kidnapping ring. So guess what — you've just inherited three girls."

Jeff stiffened in his chair and started to say something, but Whitworth quickly continued. "I'm told they were all over you in the plane on the way back."

"But, Sir, the lieutenant had told them I was the one responsible for their rescue, giving me all the credit. I tried to tell them differently, but the damage had already been done. They were..."

Whitworth, who had been pacing, spun around toward Jeff. "You're richer than shit, have a fucking hotel to live in, you have a supremely qualified high school teacher on your staff who just happens to also be a licensed child psychologist, and you're secluded as hell. I'm having the paperwork done up to make you legally their guardian. I have a judge on his way to sign it right now. You take things from there."

"But, General..."

"Dismissed!"

Biting down on his tongue, Jeff sketched a salute and left.

Whitworth poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down, wondering how he had gotten away with it. If I hadn't managed to push them off onto Matthews, and my wife had found out they were left here on the base, I would have had three girls added to my household. Shit, that was close. I'm too damn old to take in three teenagers.

Jeff made his way back to his quarters. I've got to call Diana. I know she will go with it, but what are we going to do with three girls? I've got to stay away from them and make sure they understand that they're just ... guests. Hell, that's not right. They're my charges. I'm responsible for them; I can't just ignore them. Didn't I hear that two of them are fifteen, and the other sixteen? Oh, shit, Arlene is barely sixteen. I know where Diana and Arlene will think this is heading. No way. No fucking way.

When he entered his room, Kayla was sitting in his chair with her feet propped on his desk, an inscrutable look on her face.

As soon as he closed the door, he stopped to look at her. She shifted her gaze to him, "My R & R was cancelled..."

"Yeah, I know, Baby. I'm sorry..."

"I have a new mission."

"I'm sorry, Baby. Sometimes things happen. I'll be waiting for you when the mission..."

"The mission is to take the girls to your home and get them settled in. I was told they expected the mission to take a couple months."

"I'm..." Jeff started, then closed his mouth as he realized what she had just said.

-------

The general opened his bottom drawer and took out one of the expensive cigars he had been saving. Laying the cigar on his desk pad, he also took out a small leather case and put it beside the cigar. The case contained the guillotine cutter and cigar lighter his wife had bought him for a wedding anniversary gift many years ago. She had always hated his cigar smoking, making the gift even more valuable than it was. These days, he smoked a cigar only on rare occasions. Somehow, tonight felt like one of those occasions.

The cigar cut and puffed alight, he pressed his intercom button through the cloud of smoke.

"Sir?" the sergeant said.

"You and your crew, get. Tell them I said well done. It's late. I don't want to see any of you before ten in the morning."

"Thank you, Sir. Uh, Sir, if you're staying, I'll hang around in case..."

"No, Sergeant. I'm just relaxing and thinking about things. No need to stay. See you in the morning at ten."

"Yes, Sir."

Leaning back, the general sipped his coffee and took a puff on his cigar. Ellen would know as soon as he got home, of course. But it had been a while since he smoked one; she wouldn't mention it. He downed the rest of the cup and put it on his desk. Putting his feet up, he continued to think. Matthews looks too young. Ten women — well nine before he takes Fisher into his brood. He's always been ... hell, I don't know what the word is I'm looking for, but he's always been different. People follow him like it is ... his right. Richardson and Gomez would follow him through Hell itself, and they're the best of the best. All that team is. The elite of the elite, but if he says 'shit, ' their pants would suddenly be full.

Dropping his feet to the floor, he turned to his computer and started bringing up files on Matthews. Quickly scanning, looking for something — he knew not what — his subconscious was driving him. And he always went with hunches.

An hour and a half later and another pot of coffee, he had an array of pictures lined up on his screen. Right there,  he thought, putting his finger on two pictures. Comparing the departure and return pictures on that mission, he clearly looks healthier after he brought the ship back. His next picture, taken a few months later when he came back through the scanners as he entered the base, looks younger, more muscled up, healthier than he did before that mission. These last pictures taken on this current mission are even more noticeable. His facial features are even slightly different, too, but the changes aren't from aging. He talked me out of one of those portable healers, and ... they used the healing tank on the ship on him when he was shot on that mission off-planet. Nine women, and he basically doesn't blink when he hears he's going to get another one. Even a man of twenty couldn't keep up with nine of them, let alone ten.

Smiling, his mind made up, he walked to the door, looked back at his office for a moment, then snapping the light off, grinned and started for his quarters. Yeah, this little idea of mine will shake Matthews up even more than pushing those girls off on him. But I need to do some more research first. I'll have them start on it at ten in the morning. Glancing at his watch, Fuck, I need to get my ass home to Ellen before she sends out a search team.

-------

Carla sat in Fred's hospital room as she quietly talked to Diana on the phone. "Yeah, he's been awake, but the nurse told me he would probably be sleepy for a while because of the stuff they used on him in the operating room. The cut was all the way to the bone from mid-side to mid-chest. Several of the smaller muscles were severed and had to be stitched back together. They also had trouble with him coming awake while they were operating on him. Then he woke up as they were wheeling him into the recovery room, and wanted something to eat.

"I checked under the bandage, and it really pissed me off. It looks like a railroad track where they sewed him up. They don't care what a person looks like afterward, they just give you this shit about 'saving' lives, then leave the rest for the plastic surgeons to make things look nice afterward — and make their money in the process. Diana, I've sewed up people all my life on the farm. We didn't run to the emergency room every time someone needed a few stitches — we did it ourselves. And it looked a whole lot better than what they did to Fred. I'm pissed. That beautiful muscled chest of his is going to have a puckered railroad track across it."

"You've already said he was going to be okay, but if there's the slightest doubt, we'll be out with the healer ... oh, shit. I wasn't supposed to say that."

"So that's what you call it?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Don't get uptight about it. We all know Jeff has something that heals and makes..."

"Stop. Enough said on the phone. Jeff says ours is secure, but anyone can listen to your cell."

"Sorry."

"My fault. I started it. But what I was going to say is that Jeff and Bill are gone and won't be back until sometime tomorrow. I don't dare get on commercial with what we're talking about, but if you think Fred needs it, I'll call Jeff and get the two of them here as soon as I can, so we can fly over there."

"No, Fred's fine. He woke up bitching about being in the hospital, and wanting something to eat. The nurse was impressed. The surgeon also talked to me as soon as he was done with the surgery. He called me Mrs. Wilson, and I didn't correct him. He tried to question me about Fred's age. I think that he thinks there's a mistake about Fred being fifty-six. He kept telling me that Fred looks to be between thirty-five and forty, and his body looks more like twenty.

"The surgeon has been back to look at Fred's wound twice since the surgery. I know damn well that isn't normal for a surgeon. I peeked again under the bandage when everyone was out of the room just now, and the cut seems to be knitting back together already. If I had my guess, it's already the equivalent of three days along the way. I think that's what is bugging the surgeon as much as Fred's looking too young for fifty-six. I think something happened in that OR that got the doctor's attention. The paramedics made some comments about Fred's wound starting to clot on the scene, also."

Carla stopped for a moment to think, and Diana didn't try to push her. "Brenda told me that Fred went into some kind of trance thing that he had learned many years ago. It was to slow his body functions down — primarily his heart — so he wouldn't bleed as much. I told the paramedic to tell the emergency room doctor about what Fred was doing, and I guess the paramedic did. As soon as I got to the emergency room, the doctor sent for me, to ask about it. All I could tell him is what Brenda told me — without mentioning her of course — and the doctor seemed to accept it. Before they went to surgery, the same doctor told me that Fred's heartbeat was normal again, then went on to tell me they needed to reattach some things in surgery."

"Sounds like a truly memorable day at the beach," Diana said, then quickly apologized for her macabre humor.

Carla sniggered in spite of herself. "Yeah, well, my daughter almost killed someone. He probably needed it, but I'm glad he managed to live, for my daughter's sake. But according to what the cop just told me a few minutes ago, it was a close thing because of the torn femoral artery. Sam told her that if she ever had to knee anybody to give it all she had, and she obviously took him literally. The cop swears she raised the turd off the ground when she slammed her knee into his groin."

Carla took a sip of a drink she had beside her. "While driving in, I realized that I couldn't close my right hand, the cop saw it and when they were done with everyone else, the emergency room people x-rayed my hand. I had a knuckle knocked out of place and a sprain where my fist connected with the asshole's face. They pushed the knuckle back and wrapped my hand. The nurse brought me a Cold Pac that I've been using while we waited for Fred to come out of surgery, and while we've been sitting here in his room. The swelling is already starting to go down."

Diana was giggling. "Boy, I wish I could have seen you hit that guy. What did they say about his balls?"

Carla sniggered. "Jessica must not have connected with the right one quite as much as the left. They had to remove his left one, but they're waiting to see how things develop about the right one. The cop said his sources told him that Jessica's knee had torn up the idiot's plumbing, even if the ball survives. He won't be reproducing, and the cop is hoping they have to take off the other ball. All three are sexual predators, and this isn't the first time they have run afoul of the law. I wish Sam could have seen his daughter, though. You don't know how much I wish that," Carla said as she fought to keep her voice from cracking. "He trained her well."

"Sounds like you did pretty good yourself."

"Oh, I hit him as hard as I could, but Jessica is the one that did him in. They said his eye would heal; although, he probably wouldn't have very good vision for a while. His damn head is hard; I can tell you that," Carla said as she looked at her swollen hand.

"And Audrey, how did she do?"

"She tackled the guy that Fred backhanded. He was already out from Fred hitting him, but Audrey was all over him. Fred had to pull her off when she kept kicking the turkey in the head."

"Boy, would I like to see a video of that," Diana laughed.

"Well, we might be able to arrange it. Seems like the lifeguard keeps a camera mounted on a tripod on his platform. He turned it on when the scumbags came down the beach. The cop says everything that happened is there in living color. They know that Fred is a retired cop and that we're on vacation. I've been talking to a detective who said they were taking the reports, the cop's statement — he saw the whole thing — and the video to the DA tonight. Seems like Fred had helped them on a high profile murder investigation that the department was hung up on. The guy who Fred helped with the investigation is now the captain in charge of the detective division. They're going to expedite everything. We're being treated like royalty.

"Jessica and Audrey have gone back to the RV camp to get us some clothes and things. There's a cop standing outside our door. When he heard they needed to go pick up our stuff, he got on his radio and arranged for an escort to go with them. We tried to tell the cop it wasn't necessary, but he wouldn't hear of it, claiming the patrol car had to be riding around, anyway. Jessica just called me and said the cops met them at the door of the hospital, followed them all the way, and are now waiting for them to finish getting our things, then are going to escort them back."

"And what does Brenda say about all this?" Diana laughed.

Carla suddenly sobered. "She's pissed..."

"Well, I guess so. Her husband was attacked..."

"No, she's pissed at him for some reason, and she's pissed at us for 'getting in the way.' She says we should have gotten out of the way and let Fred 'take them out.'"

There was silence for a moment, then, "Maybe there something going on we don't know about," Diana diplomatically said.

"No shit, Sherlock. And Brenda and I are going to have a conversation as soon as I'm sure Fred is truly asleep. He's been in and out of sleep ever since the surgery, but Brenda seems wired. The nurse said they would bring Fred a sleeping pill a little later. When it takes affect, if Brenda is still awake, we're going to have a little talk. If I'm going to be the Queen, I'm going to know all about Fred."

"As you should," Diana said.

"Another thing. I had some drops of milk on my nipples last night after we played. There was more this morning. My boobs are sore, too..."

"So, you've just confirmed you're a Queen," Diana interrupted.

"Think so?"

"Know so."

"I started having milk a couple months before Jessica was born, and I nursed her until she was ten months old, but I haven't had any since."

"But now you're with an Alpha, and you're his Queen. Once the second woman came in — Jessica — with you being enhanced, you became a Queen."

"But Jessica and I decided at the same time. Am I the Queen because I'm older?"

"Don't think so. Jill is older and has been married to Bill for more than sixteen years, but Kathy is their Queen. Although, I think that all that has happened to Jill is a factor in the equation. But Kathy accepted Jill into the marriage. Hmmm, I wonder if Kathy has started having milk in her breasts. She hasn't mentioned it. I'll have to ask her about it. She might not have had time yet, though."

The door opened and Carla quickly said, "The nurse is back to check on Fred. I'm going to let you go. I'll call back in the morning."

"Please do that. I know you're going to be busy, and I don't want to interrupt, so I don't want to call and risk that. So please call me."

"I will."

After parting assurances, Carla hung up. She watched the nurse wake Fred up to offer him pain medication, and to insist he take a sleeping pill. He refused the pain medication, saying he didn't hurt, and didn't want the sleeping pill, either. The nurse insisted on the sleeping pill, saying the doctor ordered it so Fred could have a good night's rest. Fred took the pill when she again insisted, but held it in his cheek while he swallowed the water. As soon as the nurse left, Fred spit the pill out, dried it off and put it under his pillow. Grinning like he had gotten away with something, "Suppose you can get me a couple hamburgers — big hamburgers? I'm starved to death."

Carla got up and walked nearer to him, taking his hand in hers. "There's a Burger King across the street. You sure your stomach will keep that much food down?"

"Baby, I'm fine. I'm just hungry. You have no idea how hungry."

"In that case, you've got it, Sweetie. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Kissing Fred, she smiled at him and walked out the door, only to be stopped by the cop there. "Ma'am, can I get you anything?"

"No thanks. I'm just going across the street to Burger King. I think I saw a sign that said they were open late. Fred's hungry. He eats a lot, and that little bit of hospital food they allowed him didn't do the job. I'll be right back."

"No, Ma'am," the cop said, putting a restraining hand gently on her arm. "You don't need to be out walking this late. What does he want?"

"Uh, a couple Whoppers, fries and a large drink. But I can get it."

"No, Ma'am. Cap'n said we're to help out, and he said it in language I had no problem understanding. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Carla tried to give him a twenty, but he refused, grinning. "Don't need it, Ma'am. I know the manager. I ate over there before I came on, and I told him about Lieutenant Wilson. I couldn't buy anything in there for him no matter how much I tried. Your money won't spend in that restaurant, either, if he figures out who you are. For some reason he really likes cops. You just go back and tell Lieutenant Wilson I'll be back in a few minutes with his food. How about you, Ma'am? Can I get you or the other ladies anything?"

"No thank you. We've eaten. I really appreciate this."

"No problem, Ma'am. Be right back."



-------

Chapter 35

Kayla and Jeff were standing in his quarters. He had told her what the General said, minus a few of the General's expletives, of course. Jeff sighed. "I guess it would be appropriate to visit the girls and tell them what's going on."

"Oh, they know what's going on," Kayla laughed. "As soon as the psychologist finished briefing me, I called them. To say they're ecstatic is a definite understatement. So be prepared."

"But why would they..."

"Major, they were raised in an orphanage, and I'm beginning to wonder if their not being adopted was a planned thing. Surely this slavery ring, or whatever it's called, hasn't been going on that long, though?" Shrugging, she continued, "Anyway, the most they had to look forward to was being placed in a foster home. But I think most of the people who run foster homes do it just for the money they get for each kid. I've never met anyone who lived in a foster home that thought they had been treated well, or loved by their foster parents, or whatever they call the people who keep the kids. I'm sure that not all foster homes are that way, but the couple of people I've talked to who were raised in one, had a lot of bad things to say about them.

"I told the girls I had been to your home, and I gave them a vague description of a beautiful place where they wouldn't be crammed together with a bunch of kids, or young people. I didn't go into detail because I didn't want to spoil the surprise when they see the retreat, as you call it. But they're dying to see you so they can thank you."

"Kayla, I don't want this to get out of hand ... I mean ... They seemed to overreact on the plane..."

"Overreact my ass," Kayla snapped. "You rescued them from that pig. And they know he's dead. I told them before we left when they were worrying he would follow them and get them back. I didn't tell them you killed him, but they know you were the boss of the mission. That means you were the one who was ultimately responsible for his death. No way are they going to believe that Ingles just up and coincidentally died. Trust me, these young ladies are not stupid, and they are going to thank you for giving them a place to live. And they're not nearly through telling you thank you for saving them, either. So, Major, just suck it up and take it like a man," she giggled.

Grabbing her hand, Jeff said, "Let's get this over with before you get my ass in more trouble. Are they out of the hospital yet?" he asked as he opened the door into the hallway.

"Yeah, they're all in a room together," she responded as they started walking down the hall. "They flatly refused to be separated, and from what I hear, that's an understatement. Doc says they're fine, though. Apparently a little internal tearing, but nothing you wouldn't expect from rough treatment when that asshole raped their virginity from them."

Jeff touched her shoulder, stopping Kayla and turning her to face him. Checking to make sure no one could hear him, he intently said, "I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to spit it out. I know those girls have been through a traumatic experience — to understate — and in addition to that, they've lost their innocence to that piece of shit. We need, somehow, to let them know that rape doesn't count toward whether they're virgins or not — not to me or any of my family. That little piece of flesh that Ingles' destroyed means nothing. Nor could they stop him from entering their bodies. When they willingly accept a man into their vaginas, that will be when they become women, as far as I'm concerned. That will be when they lose their virginity — when they willingly give that virginity to someone. Can you make them understand how I feel?"

Kayla felt her eyes mist, and she grabbed him into a fierce hug.

"Baby, people will see us," he hissed, looking over his shoulder.

"So let them; I don't care." Standing back, she took a breath. "Let's go; they're waiting for you."

A few minutes later, Kayla stopped. "They're in here, and if you don't mind, I want to go in first. I'll call you when they're ready, okay?" At Jeff's nod, she knocked and entered.

Jeff had to force himself to stop pacing. He leaned back against the wall, bringing a foot up behind him. He hadn't been this nervous while waiting and wondering if the fire department would get to Ingles' house too early. What the crap will Diana say — not to mention my other wives? Hell, how about Dave and Evie? I can just hear Evie laughing now.

Oh, shit. The General has broken it off in my ass for real, and I can't do a darn thing about it. Speaking of laughing, I'll bet he's laughing his ass off right now. Shit.

That was a nice touch in sending Kayla on a "mission" to settle the girls in, though. That way, she doesn't burn her R & R time. If this keeps up, I might even start thinking Whitworth is a nice guy. I don't know whether he's mellowed out, or I'm just seeing him differently. Of course, I doubt if Diana will forgive him for sending me on impossible missions, no matter how nice he's treating Kayla.

The door opened. "Won't you come in, Major?" Lieutenant Fisher said as she smiled at him.

As Jeff stepped inside the room, the three girls rose to stand side by side. Jeff had deliberately not looked at them any more than he absolutely had to while they had crouched naked inside of the cage, wanting to spare them as much as he could. Once they were dressed in BDUs, they had been hustled away from the action, and Kayla had stayed with them for a little while. Jeff had briefly spoken to them to give them encouragement and to reassure them that they would be leaving Ingles' house soon, but had not had time to make any effort to get to know them. On the plane, they had hugged and thanked him, but he had tried to stay away from them as much as he could, afraid of the bond that might be formed if he allowed his feelings to show. Staying away wasn't an option any longer, whether he liked it or not. Now, he was responsible for them. He stood looking at them, suddenly realizing that he had almost twenty-four hours of beard on his face, and hadn't showered since he had gotten back.

Crap, I must smell. I look like shit. They're going to be terrified of me. They seem hesitant, and no damn wonder,  he thought as the young women suddenly seemed bashful, refusing to meet his eyes.

One blond, one brunette, and one dark redhead, bordering on auburn. Pretty faces, nice figures, but maybe they're all a little thin. Plenty of good food will take care of that. Looks like someone took them to the PX, or went for them. They're all dressed in new jeans and tops. Crap, they're really pretty. Stop that you idiot, they don't need another lecher staring at them.

Fisher gave a little hand gesture, "Major Jeff Matthews, I would like to officially present to you, your new charges."

"Hello, Sir," they said in unison, sounding as if it had been rehearsed. The girls looked as if they were suddenly scared to death of him. Kayla put a hand on the first girl's shoulder, "This is Natalie, and she likes to be called Nat. She's fifteen." Nat was about 5' 4", with small breasts that went well with her slender frame. Her dark red, almost auburn hair was cut short, but seemed to go with her small turned-up nose and pouting lips.

After a greeting exchange, Kayla touched the next girl, "And this is Nat's fraternal twin, Nicki."

Ah, I thought they were sisters,  Jeff thought. She's about the same size as her sister, but the difference in hairstyle and color sets them apart. She's a brunette, and her hair is shoulder length. Looks like they're trying to play down their similarities.

"Hi, Nicki."

Touching the last girl, "This is Whitney, and she has just turned sixteen."

"Hi, Whitney." Natural dirty blond, unless I miss my guess,  Jeff thought. I doubt if the orphanage or the foster parents would spend money on hair color. Crap, their hair looks like they cut it themselves. Diana will take care of that, no doubt. Whitney can't be over five feet tall, but her breasts are larger than the twins' — almost too large for her small body. Doubtless they were picked for slaves because of their beauty. Damn that asshole; too bad he didn't suffer more when he died. No telling how many people have died because of him, not to mention all the other things he has done. These girls will never be raped again, though. Thinking of that bastard raping them is tearing my heart out.

Jeff couldn't stand it any longer. With two big steps, he was there and gathered them into his arms. "I'm sorry, Babies. I'm so sorry this happened to you. No one will ever force you to have sex again. Not as long as you're with me. I'll kill the first one who tries to force you."

Kayla felt Jeff's intense emotions wash over her as Whitney circled her arms around him from the front, while Nat and Nicki grabbed him at his sides, all hugging him, the girls sobbing and burying their faces against him, Kayla now shedding silent tears, and Jeff trying not to. After a while, Kayla dried her eyes and left to get soft drinks, returning a few minutes later. By then Jeff was seated on the king-sized bed with the girls sitting as close to him as they could get.

Kayla stopped just inside the door as the irony of the situation struck her. Three girls, recently raped, were sitting on a bed with a man that should have been almost a stranger to them — sitting there giggling and having a ball as they vied with each other to be nearest him, and devised reasons to touch him.

My gosh, he's good looking. Oh, not pretty-boy good-looking, but ruggedly handsome enough to make me wet just watching him. It's obvious the girls think he's their hero, which he certainly is. But I need to back off with my emotions. Diana said he wouldn't take me in a hurry, no matter how much I wanted it. I might just have to push that a little bit, though. I've been without long enough. Unless he runs me off, I'm going to be this man's wife — one of many — but his wife, nonetheless.

Kayla watched as Jeff told the girls about his wives. Oh, now that's the way to put a damper on their reactions,  Kayla mused, but then the redhead kissed him on his cheek, and all of them launched into a questioning session about his wives' names, and everything about them. Apparently someone had already clued them in that Jeff had multiple wives. When Jeff got to the ages of his younger wives, Kayla could see the look pass between the girls. She suddenly felt a momentary flair of jealousy. I can't compete with you,  she found herself thinking. You're too young and pretty. Then, No, I'm not going to be like that. I'm number ten. I saw absolutely no jealousy displayed with my major's women. If I start with these girls, I'll be out before I can even make love to that hunk sitting there.

Kayla brought the drinks over, then pulled a chair close. Sitting back, she joined in the conversation as the girls fired questions at Jeff. She watched the two fraternal twins. Hmmm,  the anthropologist in her corrected herself, better described, they're non-identical twins. But still there's a striking resemblance. If their hair color was the same, instead of one brunette and the other a redhead, and their hairstyles and hair lengths were the same, they would be hard to tell apart.

Jeff finally stood and again pulled the girls into a hug. "Kayla and I should go so the three of you can get some sleep. We need to leave early in the morning, and I have to call Diana and let her know you're coming..."

"But, Sir," Nat said, "won't she be upset that you're bringing three of us home? I mean..."

Jeff inwardly flinched as he thought about Diana's reaction, suspecting that she would be viewing the girls as future wives, instead of charges. Well, we'll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. But if I have my way, I'm going to treat them as my daughters, just as Kayla introduced us. "The only thing I'm worried about," he said aloud, "is getting you home in time to go shopping, for I'm sure that will be the first thing on Diana's agenda."

"We don't need much, Sir," Nicki started. "We've..."

Jeff stopped her before she could belittle herself with how little they had at the orphanage. "God has been good to me, girls. I lucked up and sold an invention that reaped me all the money I will ever need. You will soon share in that, and Diana will see that it starts tomorrow. You will have a ride on another helicopter in the morning, then a ride on a small jet, then another ride on yet another helicopter. You'll wind up on what we call Matthews' Mountain.

"We leave at six in the morning, and there will be a lot of travel, so you need to get to sleep as soon as you can. Someone will be by about five to wake you, then Kayla and I will be here to take you to breakfast."

As Jeff turned to leave, the blond, Whitney, grabbed him around the neck, pulled his face down to hers and briefly kissed him on the mouth. As soon as she released him, the other two followed suit. Kayla got to see Jeff's face turn red as she realized that the little redhead had probably slipped him some tongue.

Barely suppressing a laugh, Kayla hugged the girls again and pulled the stunned major out the door.

Yep, you might be a badass in the eyes of your team, but those "little girls" have already figured out your soft spot,  Kayla thought as she walked beside a quiet Major Matthews when they headed toward his quarters.

-------

Fred had wolfed down two Whoppers, eaten the restaurant's biggest order of fries, finished his large drink and most of a pitcher of water before he relented and lay back on the bed.

"Uh, think that will hold you until breakfast?" Carla asked, not completely joking since she was accustomed to how much he normally ate.

Fred looked over at his mate. "I can't remember ever being that thirsty, not to say anything about the hunger. Damn, the thirst is coming back, again."

"Let me refill this," Audrey said as she grabbed his water pitcher.

"There's enough ice left in it. You don't have to bother with that. Just fill it with water."

As Audrey was filling the pitcher in the sink, "I like this room," Jessica said. "It's bigger than any that Dad was in. It was nice of them to bring these big seats that fold down flat so we can sleep on them. They even brought pillows and sheets."

"Ladies, you don't have to stay here tonight. You need to go back to the RV and sleep in a real bed..."

"Right after Hell freezes over, or you go back to the camp with us; whichever comes first," Carla said.

Fred started to say something when Jessica, who was standing by the bed, leaned over and kissed him. Quickly rising back up she made a sound, "Phew. What did they do to you in that operating room? Wait, I saw some mouthwash in that little bag of stuff the nurse brought in." Then a minute later holding up the bottle, "Yeah, here it is. Rinse and spit in this little pan they left in case you needed to throw up."

Fred grinned at her. "The heck with that noise. I'll go in the bathroom and do it." Putting action to words, he clamped a hand hard over his bandage, rolled to his right, then with his right arm, pushed himself into a sitting position on the side of the bed.

"You'll tear something loose," Audrey hissed out as she quickly set his water pitcher on the swing-out table and reached to help him stand.

"Nah, I'm not going to strain anything. I'm being careful. Besides, I have to pee like a Russian race horse," he said as he made the few steps to the bathroom, bottle of mouthwash in hand, Audrey holding one arm and Jessica the other. Their "help" with the big man was strictly debatable, however.

The bathroom door had hardly closed when the nurse walked in. "Where's my patient?" she asked as she looked at the closed bathroom door. "I hope he isn't in there alone just yet."

Carla chuckled as she looked at the nurse. "Oh, he's got help all right."

The nurse raised an eyebrow.

A couple minutes later, the toilet flushed and the door opened with Audrey and Jessica "assisting" a flustered Fred. It was all Carla could do to keep from sniggering as the big man walked past with his ass hanging out of the open-backed gown the hospital personnel had put on him. Of course, he didn't know the gown was open down the back. She almost lost it again as she thought, I'll bet one of them, probably my daughter, was 'assisting' him by holding his dick while he peed.

The nurse looked at them over the top of her glasses, saying nothing, but communicating volumes. When Fred was back in bed, she straightened the already perfect sheet and said, "Cough for me."

Fred looked at her.

"Cough for me."

Fred let out with a hacking cough that sounded more like someone clearing their throat, accompanied by a grunt as the cough was cut off by pain shooting through his chest.

"That wasn't a cough. My two-year-old granddaughter can do better than that," the nurse grinned. "Cough for me."

This time Fred looked at her with total incredulity.

"Do you want pneumonia? Cough for me. Here, hold this pillow against your chest and cough like a man." She was saying it in a teasing voice, but Fred had visions of strangling her, anyway.

Well, at least she grinned at me when she insulted me, Fred thought as he drew a deep breath, squeezed the pillow to his chest and coughed three times, deeply.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit," he moaned.

"Now do it again," she said with a straight face.

He squeezed the pillow to him and did his best, his face turning white.

Fred relaxed when she told him that was enough for now. Relaxed, that is, until she picked up something she had brought in with her and put on the desk. Quickly assembling it, she held it near him. "This is an incentive spirometer. See this little ball here? You suck on the opening here and make the ball come up to a minimum of one thousand on the scale here," she said, pointing.

"Have you ever smoked?"

At Fred's headshake, "Then a big man like you should be able to bring that up to five thousand or so. Now let's give it a try."

With diligent effort while pulling the pillow against his chest, he got the little ball to rise up to five hundred before he coughed and grabbed his chest harder. "It makes me cough," Fred wheezed past the pain.

The nurse grinned at him, "Yep. Now let's see that one thousand. I'm not leaving until you do it, so if you want any peace..."

It took three tries before Fred got it up to one thousand without having to stop to cough, but the third time was actually easier than any of the other attempts.

"One hour from now, do it again. Make sure he does it," she said looking straight at Carla. "It's very important. After using the spirometer one hour from now, you need to take that sleeping pill you didn't swallow. Then when you wake up in the morning, use the spirometer again."

"Yes, Ma'am," Fred meekly said as he wondered if the damn woman was telepathic.

"Make sure he's a good boy," the nurse said as she looked at Carla again, then grinning, she left.

-------

6:00 A.M. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 4 — THE HIDDEN BASE

General Whitworth stood in his office facing the large screen. The three girls already in the vehicle, Major Matthews ushered Lieutenant Fisher through the door, started to get in himself, then spun around, braced and performed a perfect parade ground salute as he stared at the distant security camera. The General had zoomed in, and it seemed as if Jeff were looking straight at him.

Startled, Whitworth chuckled. How in the Hell did he know I would be in my office at six in the morning watching him? Ah, shit. He couldn't have known, but he probably thought I might review the recording. Still, it looked like he expected me to be here. Damn your ass, Matthews. About the time I think I have you figured out, you pull something else out of left field. But I got your ass with the girls. You didn't see that one coming, did you? And I'm going to get your ass again in a few days. Yep, I can't wait to see the look on your face.

Chuckling to himself, he sat at his desk to start his day.

-------

TETON MOUNTAINS

The giant mudder tires spinning unevenly, the big high-slung pickup jerked and slewed across the ice patch, then a moment later, its left front wheel broke through the snow crust into a hole a couple of feet deep. The two whores in the back seat squealed when they were thrown against their seat belts as the big truck bounced out, and throwing a rooster tail of snow, continued on.

They had traveled the last ten miles on a gravel road, then when it ran out, pushed on into something little better than a pig trail. Vasquez didn't know if the cabin had been built at the end of a logging road, or someone had once run a bulldozer up the mountain to the cabin site. Either way, there was little left of the so-called road. Rainstorms, snows and the freeze/thaw cycle had all but destroyed the original endeavor with the dozer, though.

"Fuck this shit," Guterrez said as he pushed back from his side of the vehicle after he got a look at the drop right outside his window. "The wheel is kicking snow off the fucking edge. It must be two hundred feet down to the switchback we just came through."

"Well, I can't get over any more; that tree the wind toppled into the road won't move just because we want it too. Besides, this is the third trip. We know there's room."

"Yeah, well, if this bank caves off, it's a long fucking way down," Guterrez complained as he flinched from the view.

"You want to drive?"

"Fuck no."

"Then shut the fuck up and quit whining."

"Do we get a say?" the bleached blond said from the back seat. "We didn't bargain for this shit. You're going to get our asses killed."

"Oh, shut the fuck up. You got half your money up front. You'll get the rest next week when we pick you up."

"Yeah, but we have to live to spend it," the other feminine voice quivered out.

"Hush, Woman. We took care of that weasely pimp of yours who was taking all your hard earned money," Vasquez said with a snicker. "All you have to do is fuck and suck these two guys for a week, and you'll wind up with three times what you could make back in Denver — especially with your pimp taking most of it. You'll have enough to go somewhere else and start over again. And ... it'll get those whining Hagewoods off our asses for a while."

"Yeah, and what if these two decide to get rough after you leave? We need the money, but we don't want to wind up being corpses," the brunette said.

"Like I told them last trip, when we come back and you two aren't a hundred percent, then they're dead."

"But why in the fuck are they staying way out here?"

"That's none of your business, and both of you cunts better get that through your heads. You're here to fuck and suck. Start asking too many questions and you're going to wind up at the bottom of one of these ravines."

The two prostitutes looked at each other and shut up.

They drove on for another ten minutes. "Boss, that wasn't bad pussy last night..."

Vasquez looked over at the other man for a moment. "You thinking the same thing I'm thinking?"

"Yeah, I guess. My dick is hard again, and damned if I see any reason to have to drive back with a load of come I could have left in one of the cunts in the back seat."

"Hey, Guys, we're sitting right here listening. We may be call girls, but you don't have to talk about us like that."

"'Call girls, ' my ass," Vasquez snapped as he looked in the mirror at the blond. "You're both street whores, and the only calling you do is to try to get a john to stop as they drive by."

"Well, it still ain't right to talk about us like that. We can't help it if that's the only way we have of making a living. Besides, Lawson wouldn't let us get out of his sight. He's already beat us up once when we tried. I mean beat us up bad. He said he would kill us if we tried again."

"Alright, alright. A deal is a deal. We'll drop your asses off up here for a week or two, then when we pick you up we'll give you the rest of your money and put you on a plane to Miami, like you wanted."

"A week or two?" Kandy with a K, the blond exclaimed. "You said a week."

"I said 'about' a week. Whenever we get a chance to come back up. Besides, you have plenty of supplies and beer to last for a couple of weeks," Vasquez finished as he slowed the truck to a stop on a reasonably flat place. "Now one of you get up here. Me and Guterrez want another piece before we get to the cabin."

Guterrez got out and got in the back. Kandy slid over into the front seat to sit by Vasquez.

As Guterrez closed the door, "Oh, shit, that air is cold," Maureen, the brunette, complained.

"Ah, come here, Baby, I'll warm you up."

Shortly he had her top pushed up and was sucking on one of her long nipples. Pulling back a little, he grinned and asked her, "How much did those tits cost? They damn sure look good."

Maureen held her breasts and shook them a little. "My ex-husband paid for these babies." Her voice changed and she went on, "Of course, it was no time until the bastard was bringing his friends over for me to fuck. And...  he was hiding the money from me."

"So that's how you got into the whoring business?" Guterrez asked as he absently pulled on her nipples.

"Fuck, no. I dumped my hubby's ass, then met up with this guy. First thing I knew, he set me up with a suite in a nice hotel and was pimping me. Hell, at least I got most of the money that way. Then I got into dope, and the cops nabbed me one night. When I got out of jail, I wound up with this pimp you guys beat the shit out of. Been with him ever since."

"What about you, Kandy?" Guterrez asked as he pulled Maureen's panties off and slid her mini skirt above her hips. But Kandy couldn't answer because Vasquez was trying diligently to push his cock down her throat.

Guterrez didn't really care. He wadded Maureen's coat up, stuck it under her ass, quickly pulled his pants down, and mounted her.

"Uumph," Maureen complained as he shoved in. "You could at least get me slicked up a little first. Just because I'm a whore don't mean I can't hurt."

Guterrez pulled back and slammed to the hilt. "Oomph." Then as he continued to ram hard into her, intent on getting his rocks off, her complaints changed to sighs as his cock began to feel good. Guterrez rolled her back until her legs were on his shoulders, and pounded away, his thrusts sliding her across the seat until she was jammed into the corner by the door.

"I'm getting there, Baby," Guterrez announced as his strokes became short, rapid, and uncoordinated. Then, "Uuugggghhh," he grunted out as his sperm gushed into Maureen.

"Oh, shit. Don't stop. I'm almost there," she said as she felt the warmth spurt inside her, and wiggled her ass frantically.

Guterrez stroked a couple more times — for him — not for her, but it was enough. She squealed and wiggled her ass harder as she reached orgasm. He stayed buried in her for a couple of minutes as he got his breath back.

Guterrez pulled out and handed Maureen a roll of paper towels when she motioned to them. She wiped up and wiggled into her panties, then rearranged her coat and sat back in the seat.

They watched Kandy bouncing up and down on Vasquez' dick, her bought tits jiggling wildly. A moment later, Vasquez arched up, raising both of them upward as he pumped his sperm into the giggling whore.

"Clean my dick off with your mouth," Vasquez demanded when he had pulled out of Kandy. She obligingly went to work.

Shortly, they were again making their way toward the cabin.

"I'm worried about the big guy," Maureen said. "How big is he, really?"

Guterrez looked in the mirror at Maureen. "Just think of the biggest lineman you've ever seen playing on a pro team, only dumber. Got that in your mind? That's him."

"I don't fuck fat slobs. Is he just big, or is he fat?"

"Well, in the first place, it's kinda late to decide you're not going to fuck him. In the second place, he has a beer gut, but he's not fat. He's just a fucking mountain."

"Shit. He'll stretch me out until nobody will want my ass again," Maureen groused.

Vasquez chuckled. "I hate to admit it, but I deliberately looked over when he and I were taking a piss back of the cabin. I can see why he's got an attitude. Guaranteed his dick is five inches or less. I don't know what Junior has, but if he took after his daddy, he sure won't stretch you out. Daddy sure won't," he said as he laughed out loud.

"You two are the only guys we've fucked in several years that we didn't make use a rubber. You sure you bought enough to last us until you come back? I'm not fucking these two clowns without a rubber, if half the stuff you've told us is true. We don't want to wind up with AIDS or some other STDs."

"I bought enough to last six months for sure. Getting them to use them will be your problem."

"We'll see," Kandy said. "They'll use them or they won't get any pussy."

Yeah, right,  Vasquez thought as they pulled up in front of the cabin and watched Hagewood Sr. duck to come out the front door.



-------

Chapter 36

Fred, in street clothes, was sitting in his room, fuming. The young nurse hesitantly came in, having already run afoul of the big man's temper.

"Sir, I've told the doctor that you refused the CAT scan and the MRI, and wouldn't let them take blood..."

"I'm not mad at you, Nurse. I know you're just following orders, but we all know that he's just trying to figure out why I heal so quickly. Those tests don't have a thing to do with a cut across my chest. Now get the paperwork done, or in ten minutes we're walking out that door without it being done."

"But, Sir, if you leave AMA..." At Fred's look, "Uh, against medical advice, most insurance companies will refuse to pay. It could wind up costing you several thousand..."

"In that case, when I leave, I'm heading straight for my attorney. Now when the insurance company hears about the tests you're trying to run, and you want to keep me another day for something that's ridiculous, considering my injury, who do you think is going to win this? Besides, I know a couple of folks that you see on the six o'clock news. I'll bet they could make a big deal out of the hospital running up the bill on needless tests. Now quit stalling, and quit lying for that doctor who suddenly won't come in to see me, but keeps trying to send me for useless tests. If you want me to sign that paperwork, you've got ten minutes."

The nurse left, but came back in a couple minutes with a digital camera. "Sir, I'm not the one trying to make you stay and take the tests, but would you please let me take a picture of your wound in case the doctor tries to put all the blame of your leaving AMA on me?"

Fred thought for a moment, stood and pulled his shirt up to reveal a wound that had to be at least three or four days toward healing. There was no swelling or redness, just a long railroad track from his side to the center of his chest. He had also stood up from the chair without any sign of pain. The nurse took several pictures with the hospital camera.

On the way out the door, she turned back. "I'm sorry, Sir. The doctor is still refusing to sign your release papers."

"Me, too," Fred said as he tucked his shirt in. "Tell the good doc that if my insurance company refuses to pay my hospital bill, he'll hear from my lawyer."

Turning to the women, who were also standing now, "Let's go, Ladies. I need another breakfast, or early lunch, as the case may be."

Of course, since Fred wasn't released from the hospital, he wasn't offered, or required to ride in a wheelchair.

Fred ushered his women ahead of him and down the hallway, then onto the elevator. Just as he started to step on, he caught sight of a woman he assumed was some kind of clerk, hurrying in their direction. She was waving a bunch of papers at him. Jessica, who had been waiting with her finger hovering over the button for the parking desk crossover, quickly pressed the button when Fred motioned to her.

Jessica, who had seen the clerk, asked, "Think they changed their minds about the paperwork?"

"Looks that way, then again, it could be another ploy to get me to stay and have them check my blood, and do their other crap. I've always healed quickly, but whatever Jeff did to me is obviously the reason I've healed virtually overnight. Whatever. I'm not going to be their guinea pig and get them after Jeff. It's time we got out of here."

"You sure you're all right to drive?" Carla worried a few minutes later when Fred maneuvered the Cruiser to the booth to pay as they left the parking deck.

"The only thing wrong with me is I need to hold my women, eat lunch, drink another gallon of water — and scratch," he laughed. "Damn, that cut itches."

-------

The doctor stood by the window watching the PT Cruiser pull onto the street. He wasn't sure, but he thought that it was carrying the big man who came in yesterday afternoon with a heart rate that was less than ten beats per minute, would not stay under in the operating room, and woke up before they got him across the hall into recovery, wanting something to eat. Well, not just wanting, but demanding something to eat.

Later, he had managed to get one of the nurses to bring him a meal, ate it, then ate two Big Macs, super fries and drank a large coke, according to the wrappers in the trash. The nurse had said that Mr. Wilson had drunk at least a gallon of water. This morning, the wound appeared to be days old. There was no apparent infection or inflammation. In addition, Mr. Wilson appeared to be no more than forty years old, but his paperwork said he was fifty-six. He also had three women with him that were protective of him, to say the very least. They certainly didn't act like his sisters, either.

They're all very pretty, too, he thought as he threw the paperwork on the desk. It surely isn't his money they're after, though. He's driving a PT Cruiser, for goodness sake. Shit. I missed my chance at the discovery of a lifetime. How in the heck can he look so young and heal so fast? Shit!

Turning back to his desk, he signed the releases on Wilson. No use getting sued over this, but somehow I have to run tests on this man. He seems to be a walking fountain of youth. The lab typed and cross-matched his blood, then threw the sample away. Standard procedure, but shit, Wilson wouldn't give us any more! I could have been famous over this. Now all I've done is piss him off.

-------

"Up there a block ahead on the right," Audrey, who was sitting behind Fred, said as she pointed past his shoulder.

Fred lucked up and found a parking place right in front of the small restaurant. At ten-thirty in the morning, the place was deserted with the exception of two old men sitting in a corner drinking coffee and eating doughnuts.

They found a round corner booth and slid in; Fred all the way back, Audrey to his left, then Jessica on his right with Carla beside her.

When the waitress came over and asked what she could do for them, the women all ordered lime pie and coffee. Fred cleared his throat and put his finger on the menu, "Uh, I know it's early, but would it be possible to have one of these thirty-six-ounce top sirloin, cooked medium rare, a couple of big baked potatoes and about a gallon of your sweet tea with lemon?"

The waitress grinned at him, "Sure. Why not? We serve breakfast all day, a steak a little early for lunch won't hurt a bit."

Later, about halfway through the steak, the waitress came over to refresh the coffee for the women and refill Fred's tea glass. Fred swallowed and wiped his mouth. "Why don't you tell the cook to put on another of those steaks, and another potato?"

The waitress did a double take, then grinned at him, "I don't think anyone has ever eaten two of those before, but I'll tell the cook to pick you a really good one."

That had even gotten Carla's attention. "Are you sure, Baby? That's a lot of food..."

"I've always eaten a lot, but after what Jeff did to me, my eating went way up, then ever since I woke up from that operating room, I just can't fill up. I suspect this will ease off when my body is done healing. Hell, I hope so, I'm going to eat myself broke if it doesn't," he laughed.

Dropping the volume of his voice, "Besides, I have to produce a lot more sperm than I used to."

Jessica giggled and almost punched him in the side, when she remembered his injury. Face red, "I almost hit you. It was the opposite side, but I might have hurt you, anyway."

Her voice sounded so contrite that Fred couldn't bring himself to kid her. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. "I won't break. The thing is barely sore, anymore." He raked his nails ineffectively across his shirt-covered chest. "I can't wait to get back to the RV and get a really good shower. I'm going to take that back brush and..."

"No," three voices hissed at him.

"The nurse gave us a written set of instructions concerning your wound. We're going to follow them to the letter. No scratching."

After Fred finished his meal, eating every scrap of it, they returned to the RV. As Carla unlocked the door with the remote, Audrey tried to assist Fred up the steps. Laughing, he scooped her up, frowned, and put her down. "Not quite there yet," he laughed, "but I'm getting close."

"I can't believe you did that," Audrey said. "Let's get you inside and that shirt off so we can check you out. You may have pulled some stitches."

Fred grinned at her, but went on inside, pulled his shirt over his head, and sat on the couch. "Ohhh, that looks sexy," Jessica said as she again saw the puckered railroad track across his chest.

Carla washed her hands, then came over and knelt down in front of him, gently running her fingers over the obviously-healed wound. "It looks like it has healed for a week, maybe more. We need to get those stitches out while we can. They're way past due. And they're probably going to smart when I pull them out, they're so grown in."

Audrey frowned as she leaned to stare closely at the healed wound. "But ... it hasn't even been a day yet. Stitches are always left in a week, aren't they? Oh, crap, that's ridiculous. The darned thing is healed; they obviously need to come out."

"On most people," Carla said as she got up to get her kit. "But Fred isn't most people. Those need to come out while they still will."

Later, as Carla snipped and pulled the last stitch out, she seemed to think aloud, "Diana said Jeff took a week to heal from the bear attack. How come your injury healed so much quicker? He's a Prime, whatever that is; looks like..."

Fred reached down and gently lifted Carla's chin until she was looking at him. "Never think that Jeff isn't different. I knew that from the first day I met him. Also remember, that bear almost took his shoulder off. There was a lot of tissue that just plain wasn't there. On anyone else, they would never use the arm again, and the shoulder wouldn't even look like a shoulder when they were done healing. Mine was just a simple cut..." At Carla's frown, "Well, a big fucking cut, but just a cut, nonetheless. I bled a lot, but once that was stopped, there was no real comparison of the injuries."

"The paramedic said the emergency room doctor about went bananas with your heart rate. I'm under the impression he didn't know quite what to do with you. But after I confirmed that you were in a self-induced trance to slow your body down, he seemed to accept it. The surgeon said they decided to wait about giving you blood, since you seemed to be stable. By the time they got you to the operating room, your heart rate was slow-normal and the bleeding had completely stopped. Then you healed practically overnight. No wonder that doctor wanted to run tests on you."

Fred smiled down at her, "You do realize that you both," he said, looking over at Jessica, who had also knelt down near him, "will probably heal the same way. Oh, I used that little trick my sensei taught me to slow down my heart, but I suspect you two will probably heal very quickly, too."

Audrey sat on the couch near them. "But what are you talking about? How could..."

"All I really know is that Jeff walked into my room in the middle of the night, I saw a blue flash, then woke up the next morning feeling like a million dollars..."

"Same for Jessica and me," Carla interrupted.

"Anyway, Jeff is an inventor. He won't tell us anything about what he did, will barely discuss it. But since then, I've lost a lot of weight, and transferred a lot more weight to muscle. And yeah, I've worked out hard, and been running for a little while now, but I've had a far greater response rate than I would have ever believed. I'm in better shape now than I was when I was twenty-five."

Fred reached out to touch Audrey for a second, "As soon as we get back to Colorado — assuming you want to go back with us — Jeff will do this to you, too."

Fred slid his hand down Audrey's arm to take her hand. "Will you go back with us? Make your home with us?"

Fred suddenly had a laughing woman in his lap. When she removed her tongue from his throat, he said, "I guess that's a yes, huh?"

Laughing, she kissed him again.

Later, Fred absently scratched his chest as Jessica slapped at his hand.

"Getting hungry again?" Carla joked, but half-expected Fred to say he was.

"No, I think the steaks did it. Whatever my body was looking for must have been in the steaks. I feel content now," he said looking around him. "Well, just a wee mite horny with my honeys making over me so much."

"Well, when a man starts thinking about pussy, he's just about back," Carla joked.

Fred stood up and slipped his shirt back on. "I think some cars just pulled up outside. Looks like we've got company."

-------

Jeff had called Diana again after they were on the jet, and asked her to get his sat phone out of his desk.

"It's right here on the table by the bed," she said, the smugness in her voice mostly concealed.

Jeff didn't even bother to wonder that she knew where his sat phone was, or knew where he kept the spare key to his desk. She was Diana, after all. "All right. Hang up and I'll call you on it."

After the equipment had synched, "This thing sounds weird," she complained.

"Yeah, it does, but guaranteed, only the two of us are hearing this conversation," Jeff responded. "Look, this isn't exactly something secret, but I didn't want it overheard, either. I hope you can understand this, Baby. Uh, the general rushed through the paperwork to make me..."

"Well, last night you told me you were bringing home the girls. I suppose you're going to tell me that you're responsible for them, now," Diana finished for him.

"How did you..."

"Logical conclusion. You did tell me they were orphans. Where else would they go? And if they come to live with us for a while, then they'll stay. Then it's logical that you would be made responsible for them."

Jeff could hear his other wives laughing in the background. "Uh, the general sent Kayla on a mission to help settle the girls in. She has two months without using her R & R time."

"So the general offers the palm branch in exchange for sticking you with the girls, huh?" she said, but there was laughter in her voice.

Jeff let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, that's about it. Sometimes I think I don't understand him at all."

"So when are we to expect you?"

"Midday, I guess. Depends oh how, uh, circumspect the route becomes. Sometimes, it's almost direct, other times..." Then very quietly so the girls wouldn't hear him, "Uh, Baby, they don't have anything but the clothes on their backs, and I guess they've never had much more than that, since they've been in an orphanage so long. Maybe one or two other foster homes, but I'm not sure about that. They're going to need clothes..."

Jeff could hear Diana repeating what he said to her sister-wives, then "We'll have a shopping trip planned out by the time you get here. We'll have a quick bite to eat, then hit the shops in Winter Park this afternoon to get the girls started. We'll get them to Denver for a real shopping trip in a few days."

"Di, they only have light coats and sneakers to go with their jeans and tops. How's the weather there?"

"Well the snow gauge says about two and a half feet, but I have no real idea how much has really come down. There are drifts against the outside garage until you can hardly see it. Dave and Arlene are out clearing off the back parking lot right now. Dave had to get the plow out, before Alesha could even get out of the inside garage to go to work. He made a trip down the mountain with her following him out. He's back now and using the plow to clear the parking lot while Arlene has taken over the big riding snow blower. It's still snowing some, but the wind is down. The temp is hanging just below zero (Fahrenheit) and we're due more snow, according to the mountain forecast. Tell you what, if you'll call me when you're thirty minutes or so out, I'll put one of the Escalades near the helipad and leave it idling so it will be warm for the girls; just pull into the inside garage with them. That will keep them out of the cold. With all they've been through, I don't want to risk them getting sick, even with the healer here. We're bound to have some coats that will fit them well enough to get to Winter Park."

"That sounds good. Uh, Di, I think we need to put the girls close to our suite. Uh, they know Ingles is dead, but..."

"So you killed the bastard?"

"Uh, we'll discuss that when we get home. What I was going to say is they know he's dead, but they're still scared they will have to go back to that orphanage, or worse, the foster home. Telling them it isn't going to happen works until I'm away from them, then they get scared again. They managed to figure out how to call me in my quarters at three o'clock this morning, scared out of their minds because they heard a noise in the hallway next to their room. Kayla and I had to sit and hold them for an hour after that."

"Don't they call what they're doing to you transference, or something?"

"Crap, I don't know. Transference from what? They've never had anyone to really protect them. But I can just see me running up and down the halls of the retreat every time they hear a noise at night. Why don't we just let them use Jennie and Melissa's suite? It's the closest to ours."

(Note: Jeff and Diana had set up rooms for the girls in case the court system ever checked on Jennie and Melissa. Arlene and Ann also had a suite that looked lived in too, in case visitors ever wondered about where the girls slept.)

"That will work," Diana said aloud, but mentally added, Until they decide to move in with us.

Jeff's voice got very quiet again, "Di, I don't know how this is going to work out. These girls are..."

"Shattered," Diana supplied.

"Uh, yeah, that's close. Di, they're proud of the jeans and tops that Kayla bought them. Kayla said they told her that the clothes were the only things they could remember that they ever had that were new. Baby, what we had before we got the money for the invention, was so far beyond what they've ever dreamed of it's ... I'm even worried about your shopping trip with them today. They've already begun to try to apologize for the trouble and expense they've caused us. And they haven't caused anything. We have our work cut out for us."

Diana could hear the concern for the orphan girls in her mate's voice, and it brought tears to her eyes. "We'll handle it, Jeff. I'll brief everyone about them. I'll also sit down and have a talk with them when they get here, too. Just us. And four of your wives are near their ages, particularly Ann and Arlene. We don't want to come across as condescending. We'll handle them with kid gloves. Don't you worry. They'll be part of us before you know it.

"What you've just told me adds a new dimension to everything. We need to have a family meeting before you get here — all of us who are here, including Frank and Margaret. Evie might have some good input into this. I'll try and catch her before she goes down to Carla's this morning. We don't want them to think we're a bunch of rich people giving out a lot of empty gestures and looking down on them. We have to make them feel like part of us. We'll hold the initial shopping trip down to something reasonable, and I'll make sure they're distracted when I pay, so they don't see the tab. We won't overwhelm them to start with; we'll just stick with the necessities. I need to get a meeting going ASAP."

"That's my girl," Jeff said, his voice showing his usual confidence in her. "I'll call when we board the helicopter for the last leg."

"Bye."

-------

Vasquez and Guterrez had managed to make Kandy and Maureen leave off their heels before starting the trip; although, the prostitutes griped that the stiletto heels were part of their "image."

"'Image' is fine, and you two do look good in them, but where we're going, you won't be able to walk in them. So put them in your bags and wear some sneakers, or boots, if you have them."

The men had reminded the two to bring jeans and warm tops with them, but let them wear their mini skirts, even though it would be cold in the mountains. Basically, they liked seeing the shapely legs of the two prostitutes, and in addition, their pussies were a lot more available.

Kandy stepped out of the truck into two feet of fresh snow. "Oh, that's cold," she complained as her tennis shoes sank in and the cold snow hit the backs of her legs.

"These lazy sons-of-bitches haven't even shoveled the walk and steps," Vasquez complained as he caught Maureen when she heaved her cases out of the truck and almost fell. Neither of the men thought to help the women with their things, though.

"What the fuck," Vasquez snarled at Hagewood as he grabbed the railing to keep from slipping on the steps. "You too to damn lazy to use that thing over there?" he finished, pointing.

Hagewood Sr. glanced in the direction Vasquez was indicating. "You mean the snow shovel? Fuck that shit. We don't come out the front much, anyway." He turned his attention back to the prostitutes. "I see you brought us some pussy, finally."

"Get the shit out of the truck, then we'll talk."

"Fuck the groceries, and the talk," Hagewood Sr. said as he followed everyone into the house, his eyes glued to Maureen's ass. "I want me some pussy first. Haven't had any in too damn long."

Vasquez walked on into the house, the others following. "Unload the truck first, then we'll talk pussy."

"Fuck that shit. What the hell do you mean, 'talk' pussy? You said you would bring us a couple of whores. They're here. Now's the time to fuck."

"No, after the truck is unloaded, and while were at it, why in the fuck is it so cold in here?" Vasquez looked over at the big fireplace more closely. "You dumb shit. You're trying to burn logs that haven't even been split. No wonder it's cold in here. There's a whole wood shed out back practically full of dried logs already cut to length. All you have to do is split the wood to have it warm as toast in here. I left a couple of week's worth already split. I'll bet you set on your asses when it was warm, then burned all the split wood up as soon as it got cold."

Vasquez turned to stare hard at Hagewood. "Unload the truck, then get your asses out back and split some wood to get it warm in here. The women don't have enough warm clothes to stay in this shit."

"Fuck you. If you want split wood, then you get out back and split it. I ain't. But I am going to get me some ass before I unload that truck," Hagewood said as he slammed his hands forward, intending to stiff arm the smaller man backward to show him who was really boss.

The 9 mm went off, almost deafening Hagewood. The round hit the wood floor between the big man's feet, causing splinters to fly up and hit the inside of his legs. At the same time, Hagewood felt a burning pain in his throat, and came to a sudden halt as he fought to stop his forward momentum.

"That's a modified ka-bar that you feel against your throat. It has a little broader point with a flatter angle than the version they give to the marines. Theirs is good, but this one is made of much higher quality steel," Vasquez quietly said. "Makes a wider incision when I push it into a throat, like I'm doing to you right now. It's razor sharp. As a matter of fact, I frequently shave with this little jewel when we're in the field." Hagewood momentarily forgot about the feel of the trickle of blood down his neck, however, when he felt something hard prod his cock. "All I have to do is squeeze this trigger and that's the end of your little pissant dick. And I'm really, really tempted right now."

There was a loud thump from the corner of the room as Guterrez slammed Hagewood Jr. to the floor. With a knee in Junior's back and a pistol against the back of his head, Guterrez said, "Just tell me when."

-------

The "cabin" as Vasquez referred to it, was far more than that. Originally constructed as a hunting lodge, the building and land had, over the years, been sold to a succession of owners. The current owner was hidden behind many layers of companies and corporations. Vasquez knew better than to delve too deeply into just who his boss was. The money was good and he was given almost free rein in his endeavors — as long as the results were what his boss wanted.

The living room was twenty feet square with a long bar extending about three-fourths of the way down the side that separated the living room and kitchen. The big wood stove in the kitchen also heated water that could be manually drained into a bucket, or when there was power from the wind generator, be pumped to the sink and shower. Both the fireplace and the stove in the kitchen were connected to a system of vents that warmed the other rooms.

Water from the well was pumped up the hill behind the house to an underground tank which gravity fed back to the house for cold water. The tank was buried to keep the water from freezing in winter. The battery backup would only last for an hour or so if the pump were constantly running, but if only the house lights were used, would last much longer. All in all, with a reasonable amount of wind, which the Tetons certainly provided, and with judicious use of the facilities, there could be TV via the satellite dish, refrigerated food, a freezer, running water, a washing machine, and lighting. There were two bedrooms, but neither was very large, and a bathroom with a shower. There was no landline phone, and no cell reception.

After the "discussion" in the living room, the two Hagewoods had decided that cutting wood wasn't such a chore after all, and were out back industriously, albeit amateurishly, going about it.

"This place is a pigsty," Maureen complained from the kitchen. "The sink is full of dirty dishes, and so is the table."

"Yeah, and look at the floors," Kandy added. "You sure can't walk around in here without your shoes. Yuck."

"I don't even want to look in the bedrooms," Maureen said. "We damn sure didn't charge enough for two weeks of this shit. And by the way they smell; neither of these guys has taken a bath in a while."

"Well, one of them is wearing piss-wet pants right now," Kandy giggled. "Shit I thought you were going to kill them."

"Ah, we had to get their attention," Vasquez said as he walked up behind Maureen to look out the kitchen window over her shoulder. "Besides, I couldn't let that big fucker shove me around. I guess he forgot who was boss there for a minute. Probably trying to show out in front of his new pussy."

"Ohhh," Maureen said as Vasquez slid a hand under her minidress from behind and capped her mound.

After a moment, Vasquez removed his hand from under her skirt and slid both hands under her top to hold her braless breasts, then pulled on her nipples. He grinned as he watched the Hagewoods flailing at the wood without wearing gloves. Junior disappeared for a moment, brought out several armloads of wood and placed them near his father, then picked up an armload of split wood and started for the house. Daddy looked over his shoulder at Vasquez and Maureen standing in the window. Cussing under his breath, he split the next piece with one vicious swing of the axe. The shit-heads probably don't know what the sledgehammers and wedges are for, Vasquez thought as he grinned.

Kandy, who was standing at the door looking out, opened it for Junior as he got near. She couldn't repress a giggle as Junior walked by smelling of urine.

Maureen hissed at her as Junior went on into the living room and started putting the wood on the fire. "You're going to get us into trouble. Remember, we have to live with those two for the next couple of weeks. No telling what they will do to us if we piss them off."

"They won't do anything if they want to keep living," Vasquez said. "We're going to have a long talk with them before we leave."

"I hope so," Kandy broke in. "I don't mind fucking them. Hell, that's what we do for a living, but I don't want to fuck them and have to be their maids, too. I hate to even think what the bedrooms look like. I wonder when they changed the sheets last."

"Good point," Vasquez replied, then turned to Junior as he walked back through the kitchen on his way outside. "Go pull the sheets off the beds and wash them."

"Huh, me? I don't know nothing about washing. Have the whores do it."

Guterrez who was standing closer, backhanded Junior, who fell partway back on the counter, then slid lifelessly to the floor. Vasquez grabbed a dirty glass from the sink, filled it with cold water, which the mountain water certainly was, and poured it on Junior's face.

Guterrez grabbed Junior by the collar and dragged him to his feet. "Now go do what the man says before I really get pissed and cap your ass."

Junior, whose eyes were open wide, held his bruised cheek and stared at Guterrez for a second, then turned and stumbled toward the bedrooms without a word.

"And don't waste it. Read the fucking directions on the detergent bottle," Guterrez yelled after him. "We didn't bring any more with us this time."

A couple of hours later, Junior had swept the house, picked up the trash and was industriously washing the dishes. "Clean the place up or die," seemed to work really well with him.

Hagewood Sr. had a nice-size stack of wood split and stacked on the back porch. He came in and got a drink of water once. Vasquez had pity on him, "There are gloves in the shop drawer next to the sharpener." Hagewood looked at his hands, nodded, got the gloves and resumed hacking at the wood.

The two prostitutes walked back into the living room where Guterrez and Vasquez were laughing at a porn movie they had brought with them. "We found some sheets in the linen closet and put them on the beds," Kandy said.

The two men looked at each other and grinned. "Well, I guess we need to try them out before we leave," Guterrez laughed. Vasquez hit the remote.

-------

The two Hagewoods stood with their backs to the fireplace, while Maureen and Kandy sat on a couch side-by-side. Vasquez had already had his little talk with the two, but as he turned to step away, Hagewood sarcastically said, "Well, it's about time for the whores to find out who's the boss around here..."

He never got his sentence finished. Shortly, Hagewood was on his back with a pistol jammed into his mouth. "Oh, shit," Junior screamed as he was slammed to the floor by Guterrez, then a pistol pushed against the end of his nose. "I didn't do nothing. I didn't say a thing," he whined.

Vasquez gritted his teeth. "Maybe you're just too damn stupid to understand, or maybe you're just too fucking arrogant. It's simple though. When we come back, if one hair has been disturbed on their heads, we're going to kill both of you — right then. No questions asked, no argument, just bam, bam, two dead idiots. My boss wants you. That's 'wants' you, not needs you. He's already told me to just kill you if you got out of line."

"But when are we going to do this?" Hagewood got up the nerve to say as soon as the pistol was removed from his mouth.

"We do it when the time is right," Vasquez said as he stood and returned his pistol to its holster. "The cops have already associated you with that other killing, and they have witnesses this time. Witnesses that you can't threaten."

"What killing? I got off on those two guys in the bar."

"Yeah, maybe and then again, maybe not. But you were the last ones seen with the woman who got you out of jail. And that other guy in the trailer park you killed a few months ago will put you in jail for life."

"Wait a minute. I didn't kill no woman..."

"Trust me. The cops think you did, and that's all that counts," Guterrez chuckled.

"You set me up," Hagewood said, looking back and forth at the two men, but he didn't get up.

"Yep," Vasquez laughed, "but even if we didn't, killing that guy in the trailer park will put you away, anyway."

The two mercenaries turned to walk to the door, but Vasquez stopped and looked back at father and son. "All you two have to do is wait. When the time is right, you'll get your chance at Matthews, and we'll get to do what we need to do. Cut some wood, keep the place up, fuck the whores and don't abuse them. We'll be back in a couple of weeks. Maybe things will work out by then. Heed my words and I won't have to kill you when I get back. And oh, yeah. Use the rubbers I brought. I don't want the whores passing on some disease you and the wimp have. Got that?"

When Hagewood didn't instantly respond, Vasquez quickly stepped back and rammed the barrel of the 9 mm back in Hagewood's mouth. The sound of the hammer cocking caused Hagewood's face to go pasty white. "Got that?"

Hagewood tried to nod, his eyes wild.


-------

Chapter 37

HELICOPTER APPROACHING, the computer announced.

Diana shot to her feet in the living room as the security system put the approaching copter on the big screen. "Oh, crap, I'm nervous about this," she said. "We have to be really careful with them. The girls and I will meet them, like we planned. We don't want to overwhelm them with all of us at one time..."

Arlene hugged her mom, realizing it had been a long time since she had seen her parent rattled. "One question, Mom. You and everyone else here refer to us as 'the girls, ' but you have also been referring to the three that Dad is bringing with him as 'the girls, ' too. Looks like there's going to be some confusion coming up. How are you going to take care of that?"

"Oh, I don't know..."

Arlene giggled. "I'm just messing with you. I haven't seen you this upset since you and I came up with the plan to seduce Dad. Relax, we'll all be friends, and probably more, in short order. I'll bet they're already in love with Dad. So that group of girls, and this group of girls will soon be just the girls."

"I don't know. I hope so. But your dad really seemed tense about them when we talked on the phone, and they've been through so much. This is going to be so different, and probably very difficult for them."

Helen hugged Diana as she walked by. "We'll finish up lunch while you take care of our husband's new charges. Don't pay any attention to what our wonderful husband thinks he wants in this. He's just taking the high road. We all know they will be in his bed in the near future. Just be the Diana we know and love. And as soon as you get the chance, you need to order a bigger bed."

"But Jeff..."

"Kayla said the girls were smart and pretty. Those are the criteria around here, right?"Ann teased as she walked by. "Go welcome them to the harem," she giggled as she grabbed hold of Helen to pull her with the rest of the group that was already heading for the kitchen.

-------

Jeff sat looking out the window of the chopper as they approached the retreat. At his direction, the pilot made a big circle to give the girls a view of where they would be living.

Jeff could see his pickup coming back up the drive. Must be Dave. He surely doesn't have to pretend to be plowing snow like we did that afternoon after I had the plow put on,  he thought. The rear parking lot and the driveway had been plowed out. Plus a short "road" had been plowed through the snow so the Escalade could easily reach the landing pad; the vehicle was now sitting there idling. The helipad was also clear except for a dusting of snow. Looks like our snow pile behind the garage is growing, and it's barely Fall.

Jeff had suggested that everyone remain inside until the blades had completely stopped turning. With the large craft, they were well clear of everyone's head, but there was still enough snow on the pad to blow around with the icy downwash of the rotors. Jeff took the time to thank the pilots while the rotation of the blades was coming to a halt.

Moments later, Bill held the door as the girls and Kayla piled into the warm Escalade, then got in himself as Jeff slid into the driver's seat.

As soon as the doors were closed, Jeff looked back over his shoulder at the girls. "In the near future, you will all have cold weather gear, but since you only have light jackets, Diana had the Escalade brought out for us."

"That was sweet of her," Whitney said.

They watched the helicopter lift off and head back. Jeff continued after the noise had abated. "We have ATVs and snowmobiles, with more of each on order, and there's a ski slope behind the range. Not a very big one, but certainly fine for us beginners."

He dropped the vehicle in gear and eased the short distance to the retreat. As they neared, the door to the inside garage began sliding up without Jeff hitting the opener. "They're watching us on the security system," he explained.

"This place is huge," Nat said. "Are we really going to live here? Forever? Is this really our home?"

They eased in the garage and the door slid down.

"Yes, to all the above," Jeff laughed as he shut the Escalade off and watched the auxiliary heaters come on to bring the temperature back up. "There's an indoor pool. In the summer, we can use the tennis court, the volleyball court and the handgun range."

"Handgun range? We don't know anything about guns," Nicki said. "I'm scared of them."

"You will learn that they're a tool, and become proficient with them," Jeff responded with a grin, "and I guarantee you'll like the experience. All of my people know how to protect themselves." Quickly changing the subject without going into why he was so concerned that his women learn to shoot, "There's an entertainment center with hundreds of movies, a game room with everything in it you can think of, and a gym downstairs. Lots of things to do. Our school is right here, too, so you won't have to leave the building for that."

"Kayla said you had a school," Whitney said, glancing at Kayla who was sitting beside her. "That's so cool. We had to walk about fifteen blocks to school when we lived at the orphanage. It was bad in the winter ... but we all did really well in school, though."

"Well, the temporary school is just down the hall, and we're building classrooms on the second floor. That lady there wearing the red top," Jeff said, pointing to the top of the short steps, "is Diana — my first wife — my Queen. And that's our daughter standing beside her — and my three other younger wives behind them."

"But, but ... Diana looks barely older than your daughter, and what do you mean by 'Queen?' Why do you call her that?"

"But, wow, she's so pretty," Nat chimed in.

"All of them are pretty," Whitney expanded as she looked at Jeff's younger wives. "And they're all your wives?" she finished, obviously in awe.

Kayla just sat and grinned at the girl's enthusiasm and questions.

Jeff chuckled. "Yep, they're all my wives, just as I told you last night, and they are, indeed, pretty. And so are all my other wives."

"But where are they? I mean..."

"Diana said that only she and my younger wives would meet us. They didn't want to overwhelm you at first. And they will explain the Queen comment later."

"Overwhelm us? She cares how we feel?"

"Yes. Certainly she does," Jeff said with emphasis. "We all care how you feel ... One day you will really believe that, too."

Arlene, growing impatient, ran down the steps, yanked open the door and said, "I'm Arlene, and boy are we going to have fun today. Mom is going to take us shopping, and you can buy anything you want."

"I'm Nat."

"I'm Nicki."

"And I'm Whitney. Anything?"

"Yep. Come on," Arlene answered, reaching in and grabbing Nat's hand. "Let's go and meet my Mom."

The girls streamed out of the vehicle, but Arlene suddenly turned back to Kayla who was getting out behind the line of girls. "Welcome home," Arlene said as she grabbed Kayla and briefly, but intensely kissed her on the mouth. "Lots of fun coming," Arlene whispered, then spun away to drag the chain of girls, all holding hands, up the stairs to meet Diana.

A bit stunned, but grinning, Kayla followed them.

Bill had gotten out of the Escalade and had just closed the door when he heard a squeal. Someone looking like a clothed centerfold, long hair streaming behind her, ran down the stairs and launched herself toward him from six feet away. "Oomph," Bill grunted as Jill slammed into him, locking her legs around his waist and gluing her mouth to his.

Staggering back against the Escalade, Bill wrapped his arms around her and tried to become one with her. Kathy came down the stairs at a more sedate pace, her grin as big as her face. "We missed you," she quietly said as Jill finally came up for air.

Jill dropped her feet to the cement and moved a little to give her Queen room, but still clung to her husband while Kathy kissed Bill just hard as Jill had.

They awkwardly walked up the steps with both women still clinging to Bill, but as they passed Diana, Bill reached over and brought her into their hug for a moment.

"Really, really glad to see you safely back," Diana said.

"Glad to be back," Bill laughed.

"After lunch, we're going to be busy for the rest of the day," Kathy whispered to Diana.

Jill giggled and Bill blushed.

As they walked on inside, Diana looked over to where Jeff was lounging against the Escalade, waiting. Walking slowly down the few steps, Diana approached him. "Making me come to the master. Is that it?" she teased.

"Something like that," he grinned as he pulled her to him, one hand on her ass, the other on the back of her neck. When they finally broke the kiss, he pushed her top up and unhooked the front-catch bra. As his mouth descended to a nipple, he hesitated long enough to say, "I don't like bras. Why are you wearing this thing? Only family is here, right?"

"Yeah," Diana giggled, "but we got dressed to go get your new girls some clothes. Oh shit that feels good," she hissed as his mouth attached to her left nipple and his tongue batted it playfully, then his mouth sucked her milk.

"Jeff ... Baby, don't ... get me ... started," she quaked, then shivered out an intense orgasm and eventually slumped against him. When she could talk again, "They're becoming even more intense. My knees are weak. We need to stop, or you're going to have to fuck me. If I walk into that kitchen obviously fresh-fucked, those girls will figure it out and it will embarrass them to death..."

"Okay, I'll behave for a while," he said as he kissed the other nipple, then reluctantly pulled the bra back together and fastened it for her. She tugged her top back in place, then put her arm around him to walk on into the retreat.

Inside, they saw Frank slapping Bill on the back and Margaret hugging him. The girls were standing with Arlene between Frank and them. Shortly the abbreviated introduction over, Arlene hustled the girls on toward the kitchen, throwing a glance back over her shoulder at Jeff.

Kayla had been waiting for Jeff and Diana. Dave and Evie came up. Both stopped in front of Jeff, their faces intent.

"He won't bother anyone again," Jeff quietly said.

"Way to go," Dave said as he shook Jeff's hand. "Way to go."

"I knew you would take care of it," Frank said as he gripped Jeff's hand hard. Frank glanced in the direction of the girls. "They're..."

"Arlene just said hi and hurried them on past us," Dave broke in.

"Ingles raped them," Jeff said, his voice more a growl than anything else.

"Oh, shit," Margaret sighed.

"We found them naked in a cage."

"Those poor girls," Evie said, her eyes starting to sparkle with tears.

" ... And so they're afraid of men," Frank sighed.

"They did all right with my team. They were terrified at first, but Kayla got them dressed and hustled away from things. She told them what was going on, and they saw the uniforms, of course. They just acted ... numb, I guess. One of the medics gave them a tranquilizer when we left Ingles' house. After that, they've pretty much just been around women and me. Somehow, they haven't been afraid of me from the beginning."

"You're their hero," Kayla broke in. "They heard you giving orders to clothe and protect them. They've bonded with you, Jeff. Once they heard that you were going to be their official guardian, it only added to it more. But ... Mr. Wainwright, I uh, don't know how to say this, but I suspect ... Uh, you and Ingles are close to the same age and size. He even had a dusting of gray like you do."

"Oh, shit," Frank said.

"Well, Frank, don't take it too hard," Dave tried to reassure him, "they shied away from me, too."

Evie stood straight, her tiny body rigid, "I hope that son-of-a-bitch suffered. How did you kill him?"

"Whoa, whoa," Jeff said, raising his hand a little. "Who says I killed him?"

Bill's group, having wondered why everyone had stopped, had turned to walk back the short distance to the others just in time to have everyone turn to him.

Jill stood looking at her husband for a moment as it dawned on her what Jeff had implied. Suddenly, she grabbed Bill to squeeze him as hard as she could. She gasped out, "Thank you. Thank you," then she broke down into intense sobbing and just clung to him.

Bill held her and stroked her hair. "Easy, Baby. It's all over. He'll never hurt anyone again. He'll never come after you or our baby. It's over."

Jill leaned back, her tear-stained face tilted to look up at him. "We need to get our ceremony done soon. I can't wait much longer. I don't want the wedding to be a big thing. We've already done it before. But I want new vows with you. Vows that I'll keep — or die."

"Baby, you didn't break our vows. You were drugged and hypnotized. All we have to do is get in touch with the lawyers. The divorce isn't final by a long shot. We can stop the process. We're still married."

Jill was shaking her head, the tears still sliding down her cheeks. "No. I want to be married to you the same way Kathy is. No more. No less. We'll let the divorce go through. I'll still keep my married name. I would never change that. Kathy wants to change her last name to ours, and I think that's great. But our first marriage was ruined. It's behind us now. Kathy and I will be your new wives until you bring more in."

"Wha..."

"You're an Alpha, silly. Diana has told us all about it. The more wives, the prouder Kathy and I will be. But I want to stand in front of that big window in the living room and be married to you and Kathy. I have to be, Bill. I have to be."

Evie grabbed Bill's neck to pull his face down to her for a second. A quick peck beside his mouth, and a whispered, "You make us proud," then a fierce hug before she released him. Jill and Kathy slid under his arms to stand smiling back at the others, both their faces tear-stained, but the tears were tears of happiness.

Jeff turned to Frank. "I'm sorry about the girls. They'll get better; I promise."

Frank sighed. "Hell, I sure can't blame them. I just wish I could have been there to help you two."

"Well, the team..." Bill started, then a strange look passed over his face.

"The block, Bill. You can't discuss most of the things we did, I suspect."

"But all I was going to say was..."

They could all see Bill strain as he fought the block.

"Stop," Diana said, her voice tense. "I watched my husband fight that block and become very sick. Stop it right now. We don't need to know."

Bill took a breath, his face looking ill. "I can't. I just ... fucking ... can't," he ground out.

Suddenly, Bill focused on Jeff. "But you can talk about..."

"The healer helped me break it. Stop now, Bill. We'll talk about the block more later. If you keep on pushing, your mind will rebel, to put it very mildly."

Bill sighed, his body trembling.

"Stop thinking about it, Baby," Kathy said as she pulled his mouth down to hers, trying to distract him.

"Where are Linda and Kim?" Jeff said.

"In the kitchen helping to prepare lunch," Evie returned. "Don't worry," she grinned, "they want to hug your neck."

"Yeah," Dave quipped, "he wants to feel those young titties pushed up against his chest, too."

"Young titties?" Evie said, pinching his side. "What's the matter? You don't like my old titties any more?" But she was grinning when she said it.

Dave tried to pull back as she pinched him again. "Oh, shit. Ouch, that hurts," as he jumped back from her. " No. No. I uh ... You're a far cry from being old, and besides, with the healer, you barely look twenty-one. I didn't mean..."

"Let's go get something to eat," Jeff laughed, "before my buddy talks himself into a night on the couch. Besides, I want to feel those young titties against my chest," he laughed as Evie tried to stare at him as if she were mad, but she broke down giggling, instead.

As they all started walking toward the kitchen, Jeff put a hand on Bill's shoulder.

"The healer?" Kayla whispered to Jeff as she walked beside him.

"One of our family secrets," Jeff quietly said. "We'll talk about her one of these days soon."

Her? Kayla thought. She had heard about the healers, but had never seen one. But he said "her." Why is he referring to an alien machine as her? But she didn't say anything aloud about it.

Jeff put an arm around Diana and Kayla. "Let's get something to eat. I'm starved."

As they walked down the hall, Kayla glanced at Diana who had now taken her place on the other side of Jeff. I was right about the makeup. She was wearing it the other day to look older. It's not there today. She looks younger than I do. Hmmm. There's a lot going on here that I don't know about, but I'm to become one of them soon. I slept next to this man last night and all he did was kiss me. But he promised there would be more soon. My nipples are erect again. All he has to do is touch me for them to get that way. Soon I'm going to be part of this family — soon.

-------

Carla, Jessica and Audrey were forced to pull out some folding chairs so everyone could spread out a little in the RV's living room. The police lieutenant that Fred had once helped solve the murder case — now a captain in charge of the detective division, along with the District Attorney, an Assistant DA, the detective in charge of the case, and a court reporter all accepted coffee or soft drinks. After the amenities, and asking Fred if he felt up to talking with them, the conversation turned to the reason for their visit.

Sergeant Andrews cleared his throat and began, "I've been put in charge of this case, and ... we're here, rather than asking all of you to come to the station, or the District Attorney's office, because of the severity of your injury. And to be frank with you, we've all pretty much amazed to see you out of the hospital, up and around. That said, we don't want to stress you any more than we have to. The three who attacked you people have been giving us, and also visitors to the area, a problem for the last several years. They generally pick on out-of-state vacationers." When Carla started to ask, the sergeant waved his hand a little to stop her. "It isn't really hard to tell that you're from out of state. Particularly on the beach. Lack of tan, is the main way.

"Look, they've done everything from simple harassment like 'accidentally' kicking sand on someone, yanking down bathing suit tops, to physical violence, and in a couple of cases, strong-arm robbery."

"But why aren't they in jail?" Jessica asked. "If they've done that much, and you know about them..."

"That's what I'm getting around to. The father of the guy with the knife has some money. Maybe not rich, but enough to hire the best lawyers to defend his son, and sometimes, since they're involved anyway, defend his son's cronies, as well."

Carla sat up straight. "Money or not, how do they keep getting this dirtbag off?"

"Well, we all have the right to face our accuser. Even these 'dirtbags' as you so appropriately call them. They use legal ways to pass the case to a later court date, after the people who have been assaulted fly or drive back down here. The people show up for court, sit for a while waiting, only to have the case passed to a date several months in the future.

"You folks are all living in Colorado, correct?"

"Well, not precisely," Fred spoke up, "but we're all going back there to live."

"So how many times will you come back down here to testify against these people?"

Fred, who already knew what the sergeant was talking about, replied, "Once, maybe. Maybe...  even twice."

"Exactly," the sergeant replied. "As simple a thing as the attorneys asking for another court date in order to give them time to prepare, or some such, is a ploy that has worked many times. Oh, the court will probably reimburse you for your air fare, but..."

"There are hidden expenses," Fred continued, "that people who want to prosecute their attackers will incur. Motel rooms, eating out, loss of salary while they're away from work. What do they do with the kids while they're here? Maybe even loss of their jobs if they miss work enough. With us, we have a ranch to run, it's twenty-four/seven. We'll have to make arrangements for someone to take care of things when we come back out here."

"Exactly. And it works most of the time. If their accuser lives close, there is always intimidation, and that bunch is good at that, too."

The District Attorney shifted in his seat, obviously wanting to take over the conversation. "To be frank with you people, this isn't the only group that occasionally does this. We've had several instances last year where a case's first hearing was continued and the victims failed to appear for the second court date. Several others didn't even show up for the first court date. This is giving our city and county a bad reputation. But your case is unique for several reasons. One, a police officer saw it, and two, it was videoed. We think there is an excellent possibility that, at least, these three have messed up this time.

"We're here today to get sworn statements from the four of you. With those sworn statements, we might get this taken care of without your having to come back down here. If not, we have talked to both judges, and they have agreed that whichever one of them gets the case on their docket, they will do everything legally possible to bring this case to a conclusion without your having to fly back and forth across the country numerous times.

It turned out to be a long afternoon for everyone.

-------

The others had left. Fred and the captain stood near the RV. "You instigated this, didn't you?"

"Lieutenant Wilson, that case you helped me with was very high profile, as you well know. I was treading water; had no real clues. The smartest thing I did about that investigation was to acknowledge that I wasn't going to solve it, then call you. Your chief let you come down; he told me on the phone that you would solve it. Just an absolute statement of assurance. You would do it, and he believed it. And, of course, you did solve the case in less than a week.

"I watched those tapes of your interviews many times during the years. I still don't know how you did it. It's as though..."

"I have a gift," Fred broke in. "I can tell when someone is lying — really tell."

The captain sighed. "I thought so. That's the only thing I could think of that seemed to make sense. You didn't have a hunch, you fucking knew. Shit!"

After a moment of silence, the captain went on, "I would have been out of the detective division if you had not solved the case for me, though. There was just too much political pressure. I told everyone you were the one who deserved the credit, but it didn't seem to matter. I was in charge of the case and you were already back at your department, so I wound up with most of the credit, anyway. Oh, I got you a letter of commendation, for what it was worth," he chuckled. "Well something to hang on the wall, anyway. The newspapers were full of it, both then and later at the trial, about what a wonderful job I had done with the investigation. I think the main reason I was promoted to captain was due to that case. This little thing here that I'm trying to push is all I can do to repay you, and it's surely isn't enough. I still owe you one — a big one."

They talked about the long-ago murder for a few minutes, then, "I have a source in the hospital. You caused a real uproar there, you know. The emergency room took pictures of your injuries, and I saw them. Now that you've signed releases, I'll have a copy of them for the file without having to get a court order. Yet, even with that injury, here you are walking around with little or no sign that anything is wrong with you..."

"I heal quickly," Fred said, trying to play down the situation.

"Yeah, you obviously do. You don't move around like someone who has had a major injury yesterday. And ... you don't look a day older than you do on those old tapes I've watched so many times when you interviewed those people. Hell, truth be told, you look better now — more muscled up. Bet you could whip my ass, twenty-four hours after having your chest split open," the captain teased.

Fred laughed. "Just good genes, and don't bet on me whipping anybody's ass just yet."

They got quiet for a moment, then, "I sat with the DA and several of his people while he ran that scene from the lifeguard's video over and over. The DA has a past he won't talk about — something from the military, I think. Anyway, he says you could have killed those guys, but you didn't."

"Where are we going with this?" Fred quietly asked.

"If you had killed the one who cut you, I would have taken the case and the video to the Grand Jury. They would have no-billed it in five minutes. I wish you had finished him while you were at it. His wrist is fucked up for life. You know his old man will push a lawsuit against you as soon as he can?"

Fred sighed. "Don't scumbags always?"

The captain hesitated for a moment, then looked Fred in the eyes. "All those women yours?"

Fred didn't even blink at the non sequitur. "Yeah," he replied without hesitation.

"Thought so. Lieutenant, we have it pretty straight that the turkey whose arm you broke has intimidated witnesses by threatening their families. I don't doubt that Daddy is involved in this too. He might be able to send someone after you, but his son's hobby is getting expensive and he might not want to. I'd be careful anyway, especially while you and your women are around here. You still carrying these days?"

"Yeah," Fred responded. "I put a lot of bad folks in jail over the years. Had a couple of threats that are probably legit. I left my pistol in the car while we were on the beach. I haven't even gotten it out yet."

"Keep that piece with you — all the time. I'm going to personally talk to the shift lieutenants about a heavier patrol here until you leave. If you don't mind telling me, when do you expect to leave?"

"We thought we would pull out first thing in the morning. If we're free to go, of course."

"We have your cell and home phone numbers. We won't need you for preliminary. The DA has already said he has what he needs, so I don't see any reason why you can't leave whenever you feel up to it."

Fred chuckled. "My women are anxious to get out of here."

"See, that's what the DA was talking about. This is going to, naturally, leave a bad taste in your mouth about our city, not to say anything about our beaches. These fuckers, and their equally scumbag lawyers are hurting us."

Fred sniggered. "Well, I think Jessica would like to stay around just in case she could get another shot at them, but Carla and Audrey are ready to have this place behind them."

"Hell, I can't blame them. I hope the rest of your trip is a damned sight better than yesterday was."

"It will be," Fred chuckled, "at least for me. They've been talking about how they're going to console me."

The captain slapped Fred on the back and got into his car. Rolling the window down, he looked over at the big man. "Remember, I owe you one — I'm dead serious. Just call me."

"Take care. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Well, that leaves me wide open," the captain gave the standard response as he chuckled.

Fred stood watching him drive away as the RV door opened and Carla walked over to him. Taking his hand, "Get that good looking bod of yours back inside and off your feet. Fast healer or not, you need to relax. Probably, a nap would be good for you."

"But I'm not sleepy," he laughed as they stepped up into the Tour Master.

Audrey and Jessica were already topless. Carla pulled her top and bra off as soon as the door was closed. "Three blow-jobs and I'll bet you will be," Carla said as she ushered him toward the bedroom.



-------

Chapter 38

The women had pushed the two kitchen tables together. Frank Wainwright stood looking at them as Jeff, Kayla, and Diana came in. "We either need to get a bigger table in here, or start eating in the dining room."

"Bigger table," Jeff and Diana said at almost the same time.

"The dining room is too formal," Diana continued. "We want to be a family, and with all of us for three meals a day, it's a lot easier to serve in here than taking the food into the dining room. The kitchen is certainly big enough to just put in a larger table."

"We could always hire a crew..." Frank tried again.

"No!" a number of voices responded.

Margaret hugged her embarrassed lover, now fiancé, and laughed, "He's used to waving a hand and having people jump."

"I am not," Frank complained. "It's just that it wouldn't cost that much to take all that work off Jeff's wives, and..."

Diana stepped up and kissed him on the cheek, "We appreciate your thoughtfulness, but remember, we made a vow that we weren't going to let our money go to our heads. When we lived in Georgia, I surely didn't even think about having someone come in and prepare our meals. There's no difference here. With all of us working together, it's actually easier than it was for just Arlene and me to fix our meals and clean up. Besides, all of us enjoy working together. We laugh, cut up and talk about girl things. And now ... my mate has brought us four more helpers," Diana laughed.

"I stand corrected," Frank said as he put up his hands in mock surrender, laughing.

Nat, Nicki, and Whitney came up to stand close to Jeff. The girls looked at each other for a moment, then Whitney spoke, "Ma'am," she said to Diana, "we worked in the kitchen at the orphanage. The work was used for punishment, but we always volunteered, because ... well..."

"You got extra food," Diana almost whispered, as she struggled to keep her face from showing compassion that might embarrass the girls.

"Uh, yes Ma'am. Uh, what I meant to say was, we're pretty good at peeling potatoes and preparing vegetables..."

Startling the girls, Diana suddenly grabbed and hugged them. "You don't have to work for your food here. You're part of us now. You're family. All of us women prepare the food and clean up the kitchen. But the way we do it, it isn't a chore. You can help us, if you want to, but it isn't a requirement for your food or anything else." Diana pulled back a little from her hug in order to look each of them in the eyes for a moment. "You're family. Part of us. An important part. Never, never forget that."

"Yes, Ma'am," they said almost together.

"And, there are no ma'ams or sirs in this house. First names for everyone. I'm Diana, remember?"

"Yes, Ma ... uh, Diana," Whitney stammered. Then blushed.

Diana laughed, hugged them individually, then said, "We're using the bar today, so let's get a plate and eat."

Jeff and the men stood back and watched. Frank, Bill and Dave did it, of course, to give the girls space away from a male, and Jeff stayed with the other men so they wouldn't feel as bad about the girls shunning them.

With Arlene yammering away to distract them, Nat, Nicki and Whitney gained a subtle escort as they picked up their plates and started selecting food. As Nat put a small portion of creamed corn on her plate, Jenny added to it. "There's plenty of food for everyone, so much that we'll have a lot to take back up after we eat," Jenny whispered in Nat's ear. "Here take this piece of roast beef."

It went on with all the new girls. The rest of the family pretended to notice nothing out of the ordinary, but when Nat, Nicki and Whitney got to the table, they had normal sized portions on their plates because of the 'help' from Jeff's younger wives.

"Okay, now what do you want to drink? The fountain drinks are over there," Arlene said, pointing. "There's the iced tea. We have unsweet for our Yankee family members," she said as she glanced at Margaret, "or sweet, if you prefer."

Margaret laughed back at her. "Oh, I'm learning to drink it sweet — on occasion."

Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa had guided the three new girls to put their plates near the end of the table. As they all sat, Jeff took his place at the end near them, while Diana sat at the other end with Kayla near her. The others were already sitting. Jeff led a short prayer for the meal and for the additions to his family. He was sincere, and the girls recognized it. A look passed between them, and a little of their hesitancy washed away, but much remained.

There was the usual banter and laughter around the table. Dave added to it by kidding Arlene about learning to drive the big snow blower.

"Well, you looked pretty funny with your feet in the air when you got out of the truck and stepped on that ice patch," Arlene shot back.

"And who had to come in the house to warm up — twice. Southern belle can't even stand a little mildly cold weather."

"'Mildly cold' my butt. It hasn't gotten above zero (Fahrenheit) all day. And besides, you were sitting in that warm truck cab while I was sitting out in the cold on that snow blower."

"Wimped out, like I said," Dave grinned.

Arlene stuck her tongue out at him.

Nat, Nicki, and Whitney looked at each other, not quite sure whether Arlene and Dave were kidding or not, but chuckling when everyone else did, anyway.

The meal over, Dave and Frank adjourned to the living room to talk while Jeff sat drinking a cup of coffee and waiting. Bill was dragged out of the kitchen to his fate by Kathy and Jill who had promised a welcome home that he would remember. Some of the women began picking up the plates from the table. Nat, Nicki and Whitney started to help when Arlene put a restraining hand on Nicki's arm. "Not now. We've got to go shopping. Come on Ann, you're going with us."

Ann grinned and joined them.

"But don't we need to clean the kitchen first?" Nicki asked as she looked at Arlene and Ann standing close together.

"Most other times, yeah, but not today. There're plenty of people here to clean up. We rotate around sometimes. They'll get a free day later on, so it's no big deal."

"But is Major Matthews..." Whitney started but Arlene gently cut her off. "Dad is going with us. We don't generally leave the retreat unless he's with us. We'll talk about that another time and fill you in why."

Arlene grabbed Nicki's hand, the others formed the chain with Ann last, then they all went out the door with Arlene telling her dad to hurry as she walked past.

Kayla and Diana walked up as Jeff hurriedly finished his coffee and stood. "There's eight of us; we can all go in one vehicle," he said as he escorted the two women out the kitchen door in front of him.

"That's fine for getting there, my dear Husband, but we're shopping for four people, remember. We need another vehicle for the packages."

"Three," Kayla broke in. "Three people to shop for. I'm fine for clothes. If I need something, I can pick it up later."

Diana grinned at her, then looked at her husband as they walked down the hall toward the inside garage. "We're shopping for a few things for one future wife, and for all the necessities for three young ladies who have nothing."

Kayla didn't argue, but just grinned.

"But you said you were going to shop light so the girls wouldn't be..." Jeff started.

Diana put her arm around him and squeezed. "We are going to shop light, but that doesn't mean we're going to skimp. Besides, my daughter seems to have everything in hand," she finished as they looked ahead of them down the hall to see Arlene snatch the door open and escort the girls through into the garage.

When Jeff, Diana and Kayla walked down the steps to the garage, Arlene and Ann already had the girls seated in one of the Escalades. Diana looked up at Jeff. "Uh, would you mind driving the other vehicle? I would like to talk to the girls a bit while we drive down the mountain?"

Well, that went over like the proverbial lead balloon. The girls had already become anxious because Jeff had gotten out of their sight as they went into the garage. Their savior in one vehicle and them in another — no way. They were in a new place with a lot of people they barely knew. Diana motioned and Jeff slid into the driver's seat in the vehicle with the girls. Arlene hugged her mother, then all three sister-wives got in the other vehicle together.

"This is going to get interesting," Diana quietly said as she backed out of the garage to wait for Jeff.

Kayla had sat in the passenger seat in Jeff's vehicle when the girls got in the back, and had just remained there waiting. Jeff looked over at her for a moment. "I need to ask you something before we start out," he said as he glanced at her. Motioning, he got out of the vehicle and walked around to the front to wait for her. As she reached him, "You armed?"

"Uh, sure" she answered, patting her purse that was hanging on her shoulder by its strap. "The colonel said the general, himself, specifically instructed me to always go armed while I'm on this mission."

Jeff sighed. "Good. I don't have time to explain now, but for simplicity's sake I'll just say that we have been threatened. There's a lot going on that I need to bring you up to date on. Just be aware, and be alert. We'll talk more later. I don't want to traumatize the girls any more than they already have been. Oh, yeah, Diana, Ann and Arlene are armed as well."

"Can they..."

"Ann is an excellent shot. Arlene and Diana are way beyond that. None of them have experience in combat, though. But I'll guarantee you they won't let you down if the shit hits the fan. Now let's get back inside the SUV before the girls start to wonder."

"Yeah," Kayla agreed, "and before I freeze. It was warm in here until that door opened."

As Kayla got back into the Escalade, Jeff walked out of the garage toward Diana as she sat waiting. She slid the window down as he approached. "I can have Dave bring the other vehicle. We can all ride together," Jeff said, wondering if he were in trouble. "I didn't expect them to act like this."

"No," Diana grinned, recognizing the look on his face, "you're not in trouble, and no to Dave driving the other Escalade. He and Evie are going back to check on the construction at Carla's." She nodded to the other Escalade, "The girls will get better. They've never had a real home, from what you say. They've been kidnapped, kept in a cage and raped by an animal. Suddenly an Alpha Prime shows up and rescues them. Nothing is normal with them. In retrospect, I'm surprised they're not huddled in a corner somewhere crying. They, obviously, have a long way to go, but, all things considered, they've done well. We're just going to have to get used to them being glued to you for a while."

Jeff put both hands on the door and leaned down to be near Diana. "Di, I'm feeling guilty about this. You're my Queen — the love of my life, I can't..." Diana grabbed his face and kissed him. "My feelings aren't hurt; heck, I'm more amused than anything. Now let's go; time's a-wasting," she finished with a grin, emphasizing the term.

As Arlene, Ann and Diana waited for Jeff to back out of the garage, Arlene commented, "Dad is treating them like little girls — like they're his daughters. Can't he see they're young women? Whitney is my age, and the twins are only a couple of weeks from being sixteen, as well. If their attitudes weren't so meek, they would be little sexpots."

Diana dropped the Escalade into gear and followed the other vehicle across the back and down the driveway. "Arlene, you and Dave have done a great job on this driveway."

"Uh, Mom, I don't know what Dad will say about me using the snowplow on the driveway..."

"Oh, he might grumble a bit, but that's all. I still don't want you out on the county road with the threat still hanging over us, though. But he'll just have to get used to our daughter growing up." Then realizing how ridiculous that sounded, and getting a strong mental image of Arlene riding her father's cock, Diana giggled as she glanced at her daughter. All three of them laughing, they turned onto the county road at the bottom of the drive.

The women were quiet for a time, then, "Now that we've accomplished our goal about getting your dad to stay with us and not divorce me, does it ever bother you that you're making love with your father?"

"Mom!" Arlene almost yelled out. "I'm his wife just like you are. Why would you..."

"Yes, indeed, I'm your sister-wife, but I'm also your mother. We've had so much happen to us, I was just wondering ... I mean, you've never really dated anyone. Oh, Jack fucked you, but that was coercion, even in its best light. And Arnie — well...

Arlene glanced back at Ann for a moment. "Mom, I feel like I'm on a date with my dad every day — every night. All of us girls do. Never a day goes by — well, if he's home — that he doesn't spend some special time with me — with us. We laugh, cut up; I sit in his lap. He tickles me like he used to when I was a kid. We kiss. I take that wonderful cock of his into my body and become one with him. It literally would make me ill just for some other male to touch me in any kind of sexual way. I can't even think about having somebody put their ... I would kill anyone who tried. No girl could be as happy as I am — well, as all of us girls are. Now does that answer your question?"

Diana reached over to take her daughter's hand for a moment, but quickly put both hands back on the wheel when she hit a small ice patch.

"That's one that Dave missed," Arlene laughed. "Now, if you've got the mother things out of your system for the moment, Ann and I have something we need to discuss with you."

"'Mother things?'" Diana chuckled.

Arlene smiled back at her, hoping to take the sting out of the next words, "I want you to back off a little with the three of them," she said as she nodded to the SUV in front of them.

"Back off?"

"Little One has told Dad that I'm a Queen, too, remember? A born Queen, just as you are, plus we went about the starting of our husband's harem, together. We all know you're our Queen, but..."

"All of us girls look up to Arlene," Ann chipped in. "We think she's special."

"Well, that's not exactly what I was going to say," Arlene smiled back at Ann.

Ann smiled back at Arlene.

"Promises, promises," Arlene joked back at her.

" ... And you want to initiate things with these girls to keep the pecking order straight," Diana said as she looked over at her daughter.

"Mom,  that's gross and not at all what I meant. Well, that's not..." Arlene, flustered, answered. A moment later, she saw the side of her mother's mouth twitch as she tried to stifle the grin.

Shortly, they were all laughing. "And what do you think about this, Ann?"

"Heck, it was my idea. You know what I think about Arlene. I'm her handmaiden according to Little One. I guess that's about right, because my mom is yours."

"Okay, I'll go with that. Laura and I have a special bond, and we've already talked about the bond you two have. But this does not mean that you, my dear daughter, coach those new girls on how to seduce your father," Diana tried to sternly say.

"Yeah," Arlene came back with the rejoinder, "that will take a pro to get past Dad's attitude on the subject. So what are you going to do to get it done, Pro?" Arlene giggled.

Diana felt the blush warm her face.

-------

The two Escalades pulled over and parked in front of Zelda's Dress shop in Winter Park. There were fifteen inches or so of snow on the ground, but the temperature had drifted a little above freezing now that they were off the mountain. The four-lane through the town was mostly clear, and the small side street Zelda's shop was on was plowed out as well. The parking area directly in front of her shop had been shoveled, but there was still a coating of snow, ice and slush. The wind had a bite to it that the girls jackets were not designed for.

Everyone got out of the vehicles and quickly hurried inside. Diana started to open her mouth to introduce the girls and Kayla to Vicki, but Arlene preempted her. A couple of minutes later, Vicki was talking with the girls when Arlene called Diana aside. "Would it make you really mad if I suggested that you and Dad go across the street to that coffee shop and kill some time?"

Jeff, who was standing near and heard, raised an eyebrow. A look passed between mother and daughter. Diana grabbed her husband's hand. "Let's go Ol' Man. I don't think our daughter needs us."

Arlene started to respond, but saw the grin on Diana's face. "Thanks Mom. We'll make you proud."

Jeff leaned over and whispered to Arlene, "Don't let Kayla spend any of her money. She's my responsibility now."

"Got you, Dad."

"We'll make sure," Ann added.

As Jeff and Diana were walking across the street, Vicki opened the door and called to them. "Just knock if you need to come back in. The door is going to be locked."

"Okay," Diana called back to her, then took her husband's arm as they walked across the slick street.

Zelda locked the door and turned the "Closed" sign over so it faced the outside.

"All right," Arlene said to the others. "It's time for some serious shopping."

Jeff and Diana entered the coffee shop and got a table near a window where they could keep an eye on the small store across the street. A few minutes later they were eating doughnuts and drinking coffee. "How long is this going to take?" Jeff asked with resignation in his voice.

Diana grinned at him. "There's a drug store next door. I think they have a book section."

"Uhmmm. And what are you going to do to pass the time? Looks like you've been banned just like me."

Diana glared at him, for what little good it did, "Uh, I guess I'll go with you and see if I can find something to read, too."

Jeff chuckled all the way to the drug store. Diana didn't think it was that funny.

An hour and a half later, Jeff's cell phone rang. Jeff opened his phone and said with a grin and a fake weird accent, "It 'tis me. Is that you?"

"Very funny, Dad. Ha, hah. As in — not. Anyway, we're done here and ready to put the packages in the car. Only two more stores to go."

"Okay," Jeff said as he closed the phone. "Only two more stores to go," he repeated, his voice sounding tired.

Diana started to kid him, but stopped before she said the first word. She had never before realized how truly boring it was to wait on someone to shop.

-------

IN THE TETONS

Guterrez looked over at his boss as the truck slowly crept down the washed-out road. "That's the first time I've ever seen you take up for a whore. Well, except for that little upset in that bar that night..."

"Don't make a big deal out of it. Fact is I just plain don't like Big Ass and his dumb son. Last trip up here, I had to slap Junior around for demanding crack. Looks like someone would have gotten fed up with those two assholes and capped them long before now. I'm not sure the boss is right about this, but we'll do what he says as long as the money keeps coming in."

"You mean about putting the blame on those two idiots after we take care of Matthews?" Guterrez hesitated for a moment. "Shit, that seems a shame to waste all that fine pussy, though. Even from the distance we shot those pictures, those women look like some high-class cunts. Suppose we could keep a couple of them for a few weeks?"

"I've thought about it. But I don't know where the boss's information is coming from. If he should find out, we would be in for a world of shit. But we just might ... Anyway, we're a long way from getting in that place, yet. But if my plan works out, we might just have an easy way inside. Maybe..."

Guterrez looked over at his partner. "We've worked for people we never saw before, but for some reason, I don't like this. We don't know anything about this guy except he wants to be called the 'boss.' I just fucking don't like it. Everything is just too vague. I'm not even sure what we're going after."

"I know what we're going after," Vasquez said, "but I agree with you. Even what I know is vague. Well one of the things we're going after is vague, I guess. But we've done shit like this before, why're you upset about this operation?"

"Don't know. Just don't like it. Maybe the money is a little too free this time. We're spending a lot of time and money just to keep those two assholes in that cabin so we have someone to blame this shit on. Looks like a lot of trouble and a whole lot more expense for this 'boss, ' when we could grab a couple of guys off the street, then leave them dead to take the fall for killing this Matthews bunch. Makes me leery this guy is going to all this trouble just so we can go in, get the shit he wants, and get out."

"Well, these Hagewoods have a gripe against the Matthews. Daddy Hagewood has sworn to kill them. Cops will go for it."

"Why the fuck do we need to blame it on anyone? That's what's eatin' me. We get in, get the shit and get gone. The team wears masks and gloves. Once we're out of there, nobody will ever find us. Fuck, we'll be out of the country. Always worked in the past. I don't like somebody we know only by the messages he sends us telling us how to do all the little things. Uh, I can't think of the word. What's that called?"

"Micromanaging."

"Yeah. Micromanaging. He wants to tell us when to take a crap. We might miss something important if we have to pay so much attention to his useless little details. Ain't his ass in a sling if things go to shit, either. This is gonna blow up in our face. I fucking don't like it.

"And talking about not liking things," Guterrez continued, pointing down the road. "That fucking tree has to go before the bank caves off and we go down the side of this friggin' mountain. Come on, Boss. Even if the drop don't kill us, we'll still have a twenty-mile walk in all this snow before we might find a phone. You know damn well that little stroll would be a bitch. We've got time before dark. Let's get the chainsaw out and move that fucker."

Vasquez sighed, "Yeah, you're right, but I damn sure don't want to still be on this mountain when the sun goes down. Hard enough getting down this road in the daytime." A hesitation, and then, "Allright, cut the fucker up into sections you think the winch will handle. I'll drag them back to that wide place we just passed."

The men set to work.

-------

 ... Audrey and Jessica were already topless. Carla pulled her top and bra off as soon as the door was closed. "Three blow-jobs and I'll bet you will be," Carla said as she ushered him toward the bedroom.

"Looks like they have plans for you," Brenda giggled in Fred's mind.

Yeah, it kinda looks that way, Fred agreed with her. So, are you finally talking to me again? It's been almost twenty-four hours.

"Yeah, I guess I am, but it's kinda lonesome in here without talking to you. I thought about not talking to you for a week. But ... I'm still pissed at you for getting cut. You know damned well you should have put those women behind you and took that bunch out."

Brenda, we're not with the Company any more — haven't been for years. I don't have anyone to "clean up" behind me when things like that need to be done.

"Well, you should have — at least — killed that bastard with the knife. Now he'll come after you when we let our guard down."

He won't do it with his right hand, though,  Fred chuckled in his mind.

"That cop said Daddy has money, though. He's gonna be pissed every time he sees that scumbag son of his with his useless hand hanging down — if the doctors didn't wind up cutting the thing off. With money, he can send someone after you. Dammit, it will be worse later on. You know to not leave a threat behind you."

Easy, Baby. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it — if we come to it.

"Her logic is good," Carla said as Fred realized that she had been touching him and hearing Brenda.

"Uh, there are some things that you don't know and I'm not at liberty to..."

"Oh, we know more than you think," Carla said. "We had a long talk with Brenda after you went to sleep last night — a long talk."

"Oh, shit," Fred mumbled, then to Brenda, You shouldn't have. You know we were sworn to... 

"So sue me," Brenda laughed in his mind. "I'm dead. What are they going to do to me? Besides it was too many years ago to matter any more."

"Come on," Audrey said as she took Fred's hand, deliberately interrupting his obvious internal conversation. "We have something we'd like to do for you."

Fred decided that her blush looked great on her jiggling breasts. As he started to cup one in his free hand, Jessica grabbed the hand, "Un uh. Let's get you showered and that hospital smell off you first. Then you're going to get a blowjob from each one of us. All you have to do is lie there and enjoy it."

"Look, Ladies. I'm perfectly capable of making love to my women. While I do love blowjobs, we're all going to make love, not just me receiving it."

Carla stepped up in front of him, grabbed his face and tenderly kissed him. "You've been hurt. You scared us to death. We want to do this. I love you. We all love you. Now come on and let's get you bathed."

The water heater in the RV wasn't large, but it recovered quickly enough. Carla and Jessica had always tried to save on power at the ranch, so they were used to only turning the water on long enough to get wet. After soaping up, they turned it on long enough to rinse, then repeat. Money had been tight when Fred was growing up on the farm, so he had long been accustomed to doing the same thing. Audrey was very familiar with RVs, so she had no problem with the pattern, either.

Jessica had pushed Audrey into the shower with Fred, then Carla and Jessica had helped the two to dry off when they got out. The women were interested in cleanliness, not playtime in the shower. They wanted to show their man how much they loved and appreciated him and were anxious to get him prone so they could start.



-------

Chapter 39

 ... Jessica had pushed Audrey into the shower with Fred, then Carla and Jessica had helped the two to dry off when they got out. The women were interested in a quick cleanup for Fred, not playtime in the shower. They wanted to show their man how much they loved and appreciated him, and were anxious to get him prone so they could start.

"I need to call the campground office and tell them we're staying another night," Fred protested as he glanced toward the phone.

"We've already taken care of that," Audrey answered as she steered him to the bed.

Fred was soon stretched out, Jessica tenderly kissing him as Audrey lay on the other side of him, her head toward the foot of the bed. Taking his cock into her mouth, she held the base as she licked the head, then pushed her mouth down farther.

Fred, of course, felt guilty that they were making such a big deal out of what he did on the beach. Shit, Jessica practically killed that other guy, and Carla slugged him with a roundhouse that would make any man proud. Audrey can't fight worth a shit, but she damn-sure gave her all. Now they want to treat me like I've done something. This is not going to work.

Fred gently pushed Jessica back from him. "Wait a second, Baby. Things aren't going to happen just like this." Thus said, he reached over, grabbed Audrey's hips, lifted her squealing, and lowered her back down so her pussy was over his mouth. "Carry on, Little Lady," he said with a muffled voice as he raised his face to her pussy.

Laughing, Jessica pushed a pillow under Fred's head so he wouldn't have to strain as he ate Audrey. Audrey hadn't let go of his cock, but had choked once as he moved her body. She sucked hard, masturbating him with her hand as she continued his blowjob.

"Oh, shit," Fred mumbled into her pussy as Audrey strove to give the most perfect blowjob she had ever given.

"Don't hold back," Carla told Fred as she rubbed Audrey's back. "We meant this to be just for you, and we know you can come many times, so let it go."

No fucking way am I not going to take care of my women,  Fred thought as he batted Audrey's clit with his tongue. She seemed to love that, so he sucked hard on it to see if she liked that too.

When her orgasm hit, Audrey screamed with his cock still buried in her mouth. Now, that's different, Fred thought as he felt the vibration on his glans. Different, and wonderful. Man, she needs to patent that.

"Baby, I ate a lot of steak, and I'm sure they pumped me full of all kinds of chemicals in that hospital," Fred tried to tell Audrey. "My come might not taste so good ... You might want to ... pull ... off," he managed to huff out.

Fred could tell that Audrey was trying to shake her head. About that time, Brenda decided to get into the act and reflected Audrey's orgasm back and forth. Fred didn't try to fight it, but just went with the flow. He could feel his semen pump up through his cock and gush out into her mouth as his orgasm peaked. Audrey choked a little, then gulped down and swallowed repeatedly. She continued to thrash her pussy against his mouth, trying to scream and swallow at the same time. Several long pulses later, Fred could think a little. Fuck, it doesn't get any better than this. He took his lips off her clit and stuck his tongue into her pussy to start her building again.

-------

When Diana said this shopping trip would be as good as any therapy for the girls, I had no idea how right she would be,  Jeff thought as he helped load the remainder of the packages from the last store while listening to the girls babble about their purchases.

As Diana prepared to get in the vehicle that would be carrying the packages, each of the new girls grabbed her in a hug, raining thank-you's on her. Turning to Jeff, they hugged him, pulled his head down so they could kiss his cheek and repeat what they had done to Diana, plus again thanking him for saving them from Ingles.

Kayla grinned at him as a flushed Jeff got behind the wheel of their SUV a few minutes later. As she sat beside him, she leaned over to whisper as the girls piled in, "What's the matter? A little honest praise got our big he-man embarrassed?"

"Kayla, you know damn well that was a team effort to take Ingles down. In fact, I did a lot less than anyone else. You stunned his ass. My team worked together like a machine — like they always do. My sergeant saved my ass when I got shot that time. Without his quick thinking, I would be dead. They always make me proud of them. They and you are the ones who deserve the credit for rescuing those girls," he said, cutting his eyes toward the back for a second.

Kayla just grinned back at him. Jeff stared eye to eye with her for a moment, then she winked at him. He broke eye contact to pull out his cell phone. "As soon as we start up into the mountain we'll lose cell reception," he told her, changing the subject. "I need to check on the roads before we head back," he commented as he hit a speed dial selection.

"Matthews' residence. Evie speaking."

"Hi, Gal. We're ready to start back. How are the roads?"

"The snow is starting to pick up a lot, but the snowplow company left a little while ago on the way back down the mountain. So the road was clear at that point. But the way it's snowing, that cleared road isn't going to last very long."

"Okay, we're rolling and we're famished. When's supper?"

"We'll be ready to put it on the table when you drive up."

"Some of you meet us in the garage to help bring in packages, please."

Chuckling, "Will do," Evie said as she hung up.

The clouds were thick and obviously laden with snow as they left Winter Park in the failing light. When they drove past Martha's Restaurant, there was light snow falling and it was obvious that the roads had been plowed recently. As they started to climb the mountain, the snowfall quickly increased. On their last ten-mile leg as the curves became sharper and the grades steeper, the snowfall became heavy and continued to get heavier. The laughter and chatter of the girls went away as the darkness became complete, their headlights glaring back on the thickening white curtain in front of them.

Diana, in the other SUV had dropped back a couple hundred feet or so, but was following in Jeff's tracks. The radio on Jeff's dash crackled as she keyed her mike. "You okay up there, Husband?"

"Yeah, the tires are still easily cutting through. Thank goodness the plow just came down. It won't take the snow long to accumulate as fast as it is falling. I'll tap my brakes a couple of times if I notice any ice patches worth worrying about."

"Okay. We're having an easy go of it because we're just following in your tracks."

"Are we okay, Major?" Whitney asked, her voice tight as she and the other girls looked at the blackness of the drop off beside the road.

"We're fine. The road has recently been plowed out. We have good tires and this is a big vehicle. We're still cutting through to the surface, so we don't really have any worries there. Biggest problem is just not being able to see very far in front of us. We can stop and wait for the snow to slacken if we need to, or if we start to have trouble with traction we can wait for Dave to come down with my big pickup and the snowplow."

"We had snow at the orphanage. Had to walk to school in it, but we've never been in a car on a mountain at night with it snowing like this. It's kinda ... scarey," Nat said in a quiet voice.

"Ladies, we're not in any danger, and these SUVs are all-wheel drive. I'm just not pushing it. If I think there's the slightest possibility that this vehicle won't make it, we'll pull over and wait for Dave. Think of him as your big brother. He's family. He would walk through Hell, itself, if he thought we needed help. We'll be home in a few minutes and you can watch it snow through our big living room window."

It wasn't snowing as hard as it had been in North Dakota, but the wind wasn't blowing much at the moment, either. If the wind picked up, Jeff knew he would have trouble seeing the road. If he couldn't see the road well enough, he was going to pull over and wait. One mistake on the mountain road and they would be over the side. Diana had backed off more, probably worrying that her headlights were blinding him.

Finally, he caught the dim glow of the retreat's lights in the distance and they soon found Dave waiting for them at the bottom of the driveway. Falling in behind him, they followed the plow up the drive. Dave put the truck in the outside garage as Jeff keyed the remote for the interior garage door. Suddenly the chatter from the girls was back. Inside the garage, he parked and opened the door to the Escalade. Standing, he stretched, his back tight from the tension of trying to see in the near-whiteout conditions.

Diana pulled in beside them as the big door slid down and the overhead heaters came on to bring the garage temperature back up. Diana jumped out and came to stand shivering beside Jeff. "I can see what Frank meant about the logistics of getting people up here in the winter. It's not just our driveway or that last section of county road — it's the whole bloody mountain. I'm surely not anxious to drive that mountain at night again with it snowing like that, but I know we're just now starting our snow season. I can guarantee you that none of your younger wives are going to be driving in the near future, though. At least not on the mountain roads. You can't just guess at where you're going, and it was getting awful close to that a time or two back there with the snow coming down so hard. None of your younger wives have enough experience to drive in that. There for a few minutes, I was beginning to think I didn't, either."

"Agreed," Jeff said. "If the wind had picked up and started blowing that snow around, we wouldn't have been able to see at all. We need to stock all the vehicles with cold weather survival gear in case we get trapped out somewhere, and ... we need to make sure to keep our tanks topped up."

"Yeah," Diana agreed. "But Arlene and the girls have been keeping the gas tanks full without us saying anything."

"But it's not going to be as much fun for them to do that in the cold weather," Jeff answered. "Not that I could blame them. We just need to check the gauge before we head out — every time."

"The weather report didn't say anything about it snowing that hard," Diana complained.

Jeff chuckled as he opened the hatch to Diana's SUV. "A few thousand feet of elevation makes a lot of difference, particularly when you're starting off with eighty-five hundred feet in Winter Park before you even begin to climb the mountain, and ... the weather can change in minutes."

The door burst open as the rest of Jeff's younger wives, accompanied by Dave's, came charging into the garage to help bring in packages. "Put everything in the living room for now. We'll eat, then get things moved to their suites after supper," Arlene called out over the storm of excited voices.

As soon as the packages had been put down in the living room, Nan, Nicki and Whitney gathered at the large window to look out on the lit grounds and the snowfall. "It's beautiful — now," Nicki almost reverently whispered, "but it was so terrifying in the car on the way up. I was afraid we were going to go off one of those bluffs. Then we got to that..."

"We call it the driveway from Hell," Jennie said as she and Ann walked up to stand behind them.

"But it's beautiful in its own way," Ann said. "It's better after you get used to it..."

"Which I'm still in the process of doing," Helen said as she too joined them. "Of course, that might take another twenty years or so," she finished straight-faced. Then, "Come on. Let's eat. After that, we'll show you where you sleep, and you can show us all your new things."

-------

At the mountain cabin high in the Tetons, Kandy and Maureen had their first run-in with the Hagewoods. "No bath; no pussy," Maureen stated as she stood in the living room with her hands on her hips.

"Fuck you, bitch. I said come here."

"We're not fucking you two clowns until you get cleaned up. You smell like a pig sty."

"The hell you say. I took a bath a couple days ago," Hagewood Sr. objected, lying through his teeth.

"Couple days or a couple weeks?" Kandy sarcastically said.

"No use arguing," Maureen cut in. "No bath; no pussy," she repeated.

"You ain't fucking big enough to tell me no," Hagewood snarled.

Junior took a step toward his father. "Uh, Daddy, uh, remember what that guy said. I don't like that gun stuck up against my head. He'll kill me for sure if you hurt one of them. Kill you, too."

"Fuck up a hair on our heads and you're dead," Kandy expanded, her mouth overloading her butt and causing Maureen to cringe, but it was too late to back down now.

"They'll shoot you down like dogs, and you know it," Maureen added. "What the fuck is all this arguing over anyway, all we want is for you to take a shower. We've promised you all the pussy and blowjobs you want. But we ain't going to be pushed around. We've had enough of that shit."

"I'm going to take a shower," Junior said as he headed down the hall.

"And use soap," Kandy yelled after him.

"Yeah, yeah," Junior mumbled, making a little waving gesture of agreement as he disappeared into the bathroom.

"Save me some hot water," Hagewood Sr. bellowed after him.

An hour later they were all in the living room again. Junior and Kandy were on the couch with Junior on his back and Kandy kneeling on the floor beside him. Junior was humping his ass up as Kandy sucked him. She had a firm grip on the bottom of his dick, keeping him from trying to hump it down her throat — not that he would have caused her that much trouble with his weenie, anyway, but it was the principle of the thing.

Maureen was doing basically the same thing for Senior, but was a little ahead of the other two. As Senior bellowed out and trembled, Maureen snatched her mouth away and directed his dick past her. She sputtered, having gotten a few drops of his come in her mouth. "Shit,  what have you been eating? Pphuut." Spitting again, she jacked him a few more times as the last of his seed trickled out of his small dick onto her hand.

"Oh, shit, that was good," Hagewood gasped out. "That's the first blowjob I've had in a while."

Maureen wiped her hand on the tee shirt Hagewood had worn, momentarily wondering whether her hand was worse off after swiping it on the dirty shirt, then threw the sour-smelling thing behind her. "How in the fuck can you two live like this?" Not expecting an answer, she went on, "I thought I had tasted come that was bad before, but yours is in a class all its own. What the fuck have you been eating?"

Hagewood Sr., mellowed out by the blowjob, fought sleep to answer, "We ate pretty good. Mostly steak and beer. Sometimes pork chops or some frozen dinners. We don't like vegetables much, so we chunked them from the dinners."

"You didn't eat any vegetables?" Maureen asked as she watched his dick wilt.

"Uh uh. Rather have meat," Hagewood said.

"You idiot. You can't live on just meat. No damn wonder your sperm tastes so bad."

"Uhhmmmmm," Junior gasped out, giving Kandy time to jerk her mouth off and stroke him to finish with her hand.

"I wanted you to swallow that," Junior whimpered as the last of his pitifully small spend was expended.

"I will," Kandy assured him, "as soon as you start eating right. I'm like Maureen, I'm not taking a steak and beer load down my throat. Your pre-come tastes bad enough. Besides, we need to get you back hard so I can get that big dick in my pussy," she managed to say with a straight face.

A look passed between the two women as Kandy, still holding Junior's dick, waved it around a little — all five inches of it.

Shortly, Junior was snoring along with his father. Kandy and Maureen met in the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee. "Did you bring a dildo or vibrator with you?" Kandy asked her partner.

"Yeah, I brought both."

"Well, I didn't. I expected we would get our brains fucked out, so I didn't bring any toys. I hope to hell you will share. They haven't had a woman in a month or more, then one blowjob and they're snoring. It's going to be a long two weeks," Kandy groused.

"Yeah, and they're going to eat some vegetables. The big fucker's come just plain stinks."

"Junior's too." Then, "Hey, I heard somewhere that fruit makes a man's come taste better. We brought a couple sacks of oranges with us. I wonder..."

"Shit, it's worth a try. That was the sourest come I've ever tasted. Oh, something else I've been thinking about. We need to set up some house rules," Maureen said as she poured water in the coffee maker. Thinking a minute, she continued, "They take care of the wood and the fire. Junior does the laundry. We do the cooking and cleaning — with stews and soups so they can't avoid vegetables. And they take a shower every day. How does that sound to you?"

"Like we're married," Kandy giggled.

Maureen chuckled, "Only we can't cheat on them 'cause there ain't anybody to cheat with. If this keeps up, there is going to be a couple of horny broads when those two mercenaries get back."

"Yeah," Kandy said, " ... yeah, you're right about that."

-------

"No," Whitney said, "no. We stay together."

"But it's a double suite..."

"No, Arlene. We stay together. That's a great big beautiful bed there," she said pointing. "We can all sleep in it just fine. We're used to being together — we've slept in the same bed for years. We would have been raped at the orphanage if we hadn't stuck together, not to say anything about the foster home. We do everything together."

"But..."

Kayla quickly injected, "It's a double suite, I can use one bedroom and they can use the other."

"Fine by us if that is what you guys want," Arlene said as she glanced at Ann. "But we have all kinds of room, and this place is huge. Many, many suites and rooms." Turning back to the three girls, Arlene continued, "I'm sorry guys; I wasn't trying to push you. Heck, all my sisters sleep with me — well with our husband too, of course."

There was a titter from the girls, then Nicki, blushing, spoke up. "We would like to hear more about your marriage when ... well, when you want to tell us," she finished, her face becoming redder.

"And we want to hear all about your lives — everything. We're family now. You watch; this will feel like home before you know it," Arlene responded.

-------

Everyone found seats in the living room, Jesse and Alesha sitting side-by side holding hands as usual, the area in front of the fireplace strangely vacant of furniture. Arlene looked around her, checking, then walked over in front of the fire and turned to face everyone.

As she started to speak, her voice was soft, but growing in confidence. "Most of you were here two weeks ago. But some of you were on the way to Denver — a flying trip, so I've heard, she tried to joke. For Kayla, Nicki, Nat and Whitney, you have no idea what I'm talking about. So the rest of you please bear with me while I bring our new people up to date.

"Two weeks ago tonight — well, actually early Saturday morning — my sister-wife was ... shot." Arlene's voice had stumbled, but she swallowed and continued, her voice strengthening. "Joyce is a deputy sheriff. She answered a domestic call, and this ... scumbag shot her. Shot her at ten feet with a .44 magnum. Joyce would be ... dead now," she almost whispered, "if a lot of things hadn't happened. Our husband had recently bought the Sheriffs Department all new top-of-the line concealable vests with a 'soft' trauma plate that goes right over the heart. Joyce was wearing that new vest that night. Apparently she and her ... assailant fired at exactly the same time. Her bullet killed him instantly, but his slammed into her chest, knocking her unconscious and causing her to fall backward. The vest stopped the bullet and dissipated most of the trauma of it, but not all. Her head hit the corner of a cinder block so bad she started bleeding out. She would have died there, but something happened."

Arlene turned to stare at Jeff, then directed her attention back to her audience. My husband woke up screaming; had a dream or somehow had seen the incident as he slept. At his insistence, Mom phoned the sheriff's dispatch, but they wouldn't tell her anything. But ... she heard enough from their radio in the background to know that something was seriously wrong.

"To shorten a long story, we got in touch with Jesse, here," she said motioning to him, "and he got to Joyce in time. He and Alesha," — she acknowledged Alesha by smiling at the blushing woman — "managed to keep Joyce from bleeding to death until medical help arrived. She was flown to Denver where my husband again stepped in to save her life. You will learn how he did that, later. But during that flying trip to Denver that Dad, Mom and Caitlin took, we who were left here at the retreat did the only thing we could do to help — we prayed."

Although Arlene's voice remained steady, there were suddenly tears rolling down her face. "Those prayers were answered, and two days later Joyce walked away from that hospital completely healed. Since that time, our lives have been filled with many things. But finally, tonight, we're all together and can complete what we started two weeks ago. We asked for and received a miracle; tonight we thank Him for that miracle. I know that we have done that separately, many times since that terrible night, but I think it would be appropriate to thank Him the way we asked Him in the beginning."

Arlene motioned with her hands. "That's the reason the area where I'm standing is vacant of furniture. This is where we knelt, held hands and asked that Joyce be spared. As I said two weeks ago when we did this, don't participate if you don't want to. Nothing will be thought of it. If you decide to kneel with us, you don't have to pray, and certainly not openly, if you don't want to."

The circle was already forming as she spoke, each going to their knees and taking the hand of the person on either side — forming a chain. Without hesitation, Kayla and the girls held hands and took their places.

When everyone was kneeling, Arlene spoke again, "I'll start. When I'm finished, I'll squeeze the hand of the person on my right. When that person is finished, she will squeeze the hand of the person to her right. You can pray aloud, silently, or pass; just squeeze the hand of the person to your right when you're done. I will finish up when you're all through."

When Joyce's turn came, overcome with emotion, she only got out a few words before she couldn't talk any more. Caitlin took over for her as Caitlin turned to put both arms around her lover and sister-wife.

Kayla, and the new girls each said a short prayer aloud when their turns came. Although the girls didn't know it, everyone there had a new respect for them because they took part. Afterward, Joyce got a round of hugs from everyone — yet again.

A little later Jeff and Diana stood with their arms around each other as they looked out onto the lit grounds of the retreat. The snow swirled down outside the window, the eddies from the wind hitting the walls of the building causing shifting patterns in the falling snow. Diana hugged her husband, her grip on him tightening. Jeff realized that his wife was silently crying.

"Easy Baby, it worked out all right. Joyce is healthy and one of our wives now. She'll be with us forever."

Diana continued sniffing as Jeff pulled a tissue from a box that was sitting on a table nearby, "I'm not crying about Joyce," the Queen choked out, "although I was a few minutes ago, but those were tears of joy ... Well, I guess these are too," she said, taking the tissue from Jeff to wipe her own eyes after his dabbing attempts didn't get the job done, "but these are for ... My daughter is growing up," she quietly wailed into her husband's chest as she grabbed him anew.

Hell, I knew that when Arlene sat on my dick that day,  Jeff thought, but even I know better than to say it. "She's..." Jeff stumbled aloud, wondering just what he should say, but knowing there was quicksand all about.

"She's a woman. Where did my baby go?" Diana sniffed.

"She's still here. She's still here," Jeff whispered into his wife's ear as he gently rubbed her back. "Our baby is still here."

Jeff noticed Jesse and Alesha leaving the living room, presumably going to Alesha's suite, holding hands as usual. Trying to sidetrack Diana's thoughts, Jeff commented as he nodded toward the couple, "You still don't think Jesse is getting any of that?"

"Jeff, that's crude," Diana quietly scolded as she glanced at the couple. "And no, I'm positive they aren't making love."

"But damn, Baby, they've been with each other practically all the time ever since that night. I've seen them kiss a lot, although, their kisses aren't much past the chaste stage, but they can't seem to sit together without holding hands, or touching each other in some way. They're adults, though, not thirteen-year-olds who are thrilled out of their minds by holding hands with the opposite sex. I know that Alesha has had problems with men in her past — well with the two she told us about..."

Diana took her husband's hand and led him to a nearby seat, then crawled into his lap. After kissing him on the cheek, she put her head on his shoulder. "They're both working a lot of hours, and they don't have much extra money. We've already run afoul of Jesse's sense of values, I guess you could call them. That's the reason we're basically lying to him as we get his truck made over. The cost of a new truck would be nothing to us, but we both know he wouldn't take it, and would even think less of us if we bought it for him. Unfortunately, Alesha is the same way.

"The only way we managed to get her to drive one of our vehicles, was because she had no other way to get to work once the snows came. Her car isn't four-wheel drive. She and Jesse don't want to be a 'burden' on anyone. No matter that they saved Joyce's life and we're more than willing to help, they are determined to make it on their own. Regardless of the fact those men used her, Alesha blames herself. She knows that she has a problem with that, but she won't go to counseling to get past the guilt she's feeling. She says she doesn't have the money — which she certainly doesn't, and she won't let me pay for it. Maybe Helen can help — she has the license for it.

"You have used the healer on her, so she won't get pregnant if she decides to make love with Jesse. I didn't tell her about the healer, but she knows you did something to her, and I think she accepts that she won't get pregnant without intervention from you. So much has happened around here that she just sort of blinked and looked at me when I told her. I think she still feels ... unclean — unworthy — of Jesse. Everything considered, she has probably had far less sex than most of her college friends, even with those two assholes having used her. She's exchanged sex to survive — the tale of many, many women the world over, but she doesn't see it that way."

"So what are we going to do?" Jeff said, pulling her to him and talking into her hair as he unconsciously stroked her back.

"I have absolutely no idea," Diana sighed. "If Jesse were an Alpha, you could teach him how to call his mate. But he obviously isn't, or his pheromones would already have solved the problem."

"And that wouldn't be right, either," Jeff quietly said.

"No, it wouldn't be," Diana sighed, "but dammit, Jesse needs to push a little. What is the expression? Fait accompli? He needs to make love to that girl and get on with their lives. He wants it and she wants it. But she's too busy thinking she doesn't deserve him to pay attention to what needs to be done."

"Glad to see you're not opinionated about the subject," Jeff teased.

Diana grinned at him, burying her face in his shoulder. "I need to have you fuck my brains out, but we still have things to do," She said, getting off his lap. "Let's go."



-------

Chapter 40

Jeff and Diana were sitting facing each other in their bedroom with her feet in his lap. "It's getting late," he said as he massaged her instep, "are you sure about this? They got up early this morning and have been running around ever since."

"Ohh, that feels so good. Right there. Yes, right there. Uh, they're not going to show you everything,  but they absolutely have to show you some of their stuff. They would never be able to get to sleep without at least showing a little of it."

"But I'm not..."

"Oh, not by yourself," Diana chuckled, "they'll be showing all of us wives," She put her feet down from his lap and reached over to take his hand, "But the show is really for you. And I'll bet that right now they're trying to figure out just how much they can get away with 'showing you.' They have a number of new bra and panty sets, too, you know."

"Diana, they wouldn't..."

"Not yet, maybe. They don't know how far they can push. They've just met us, but remember — you're their hero. And we certainly have a very visible polygamous relationship, plus Kayla has told them about it — at least what she knows about it. My dear husband even told them his wives' names before the girls left the base," she finished with a grin.

"But, Baby, I couldn't just bring them home with me and drop our relationship on them as they walked in the door..."

"I didn't say that you had acted incorrectly — far from it. Still, they've been raised in an environment that makes me shudder to think about it, then they were kidnapped and raped; kept in a cage." Diana suddenly stopped. "That asshole gave Jill drugs and hypnotized her. Did he..."

Jeff smiled at her, "When the medics asked, the girls told them that they weren't given any pills or shots after they first woke up in his home. Well actually they knew nothing until they woke up in the cage. Apparently Ingles wanted them fully terrified when he raped their virginity from them, so I don't think he had gotten around to the drugs and hypnotism. Damn, I hope that son-of-a-bitch is stoking the fires of Hell right now."

"Maybe he is," After a slight hesitation, "Baby, you need to use the Healer on them quickly. No telling what kind of STDs that ... uh, person has given them."

"The tests for STDs showed negative. Of course HIV could show up six months later, but Little One will have taken care of them long before then, anyway. No need to worry," Jeff smiled at her.

Diana sighed, "Okay. I'll take your hint and calm down. Now ... are you ready to check out your new charges' clothes?" She got up to slide a seat into the proper position to view the girls' show. "Sit right here; we'll call this the runway. Your girls aren't going to notice the rest of us, anyway. They'll have eyes only for you," she teased.

No sooner had they gotten reseated than Jeff's wives, minus one, filed in and seated themselves, also. Shortly, Arlene and Kayla walked in and ushered the girls to parade by Jeff, their faces in full blush, but they held their heads high.

A half hour later, Jeff, Diana and the rest were waiting for the girls to change into yet another new outfit when Jeff glanced at his wife. She was biting her lip and obviously fighting to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes.

At Jeff's raised eyebrow, Diana whispered to him, repeating what she had said earlier, "My daughter is growing up."

"What do you mean?" Jeff asked, wondering why she was suddenly back on that subject.

"The girls' clothes," Diana responded, her voice unsteady. "I couldn't have chosen better myself — not one little bit. No one was slighted; no one has something better than any other girl. There are differences in color, and subtle differences in appearance and styles, but all are equal. Probably close to being equal in price, too. Some of the clothes are sexy, but not overly so — just right for their ages. I had extreme doubts when I walked across that street with you to sit in the coffee shop and wait. You have no idea how hard that was for me to just turn everything over to Arlene. The new girls had never really been shopping — knew nothing about it. They have never had anything. Remember, you said they told you the jeans and tops that Kayla bought them on the base were the only new things they had ever had. They've never worn anything except hand-me-downs. Then suddenly they are 'dragged' through dress shops and stores to buy a whole new wardrobe.

"I did a quick scan of their clothes before I came in here. They all have shorts, jeans, dress slacks, everyday tops, dressy tops, sexy tops, dresses, skirts, blouses, hose, socks, boots, and shoes. Arlene worked hard at this, and yeah, I know that Kayla helped, too. But she's already told me that Arlene and Ann did the most of it. From what I've seen so far, I could not have done any better. Oh, their wardrobes can be fleshed out a lot, but they have enough of everything to get by for the time being. I'm just wondering if they're going to model their bikinis for you tonight."

"Bikini's? I don't know about that..."

"They have one-piece suits, two-piece suits, and bikinis, although Arlene assures me they aren't tiny bikinis." Diana grinned at him. "If you get an erection, I'll sit in your lap to cover it," she finished, fighting back a snigger, the tears almost gone.

Jeff didn't know whether she was kidding or not. He hadn't had much sex lately and he could feel himself beginning to swell. The girls were already affecting him. Diana had glanced at his groin and he knew he was caught. Oh, shit. They're my new charges. I want to think of them as my daughters. Why did they have to priss like that when they walked past me?

As they waited for the girls to come back, his wives were apparently on the same wavelength, because Jennie got up, walked over with a little extra hip sway and plopped down in his lap. Taking his face in her hands, she gave him an open-mouthed kiss, gluing her mouth to his and swirling her tongue against his. Just before the girls walked back in, she got up and pranced back to her seat. Diana grinned at him and sat in his lap, wiggling her hips around to "get comfortable." His cock was hard as a rock.

-------

The "show" was over and Jeff's wives were showering and getting ready for bed. Jeff was sitting in a chair in their bedroom just thinking about going to tell Kayla good night, when Diana walked in with a towel tied around her. Strutting to him, knowing how good she looked, she straddled his lap. Pulling the towel free of her breasts, she quietly said, "Suck."

Glad to oblige, he teased her nipples for a moment, then sucked her milk.

"Ohhhh, that feels so good," she hissed out. "I hate using that breast pump," she said for the hundredth time. "Arlene and I both have full titties for you." Gently, she pushed his face back. "I want you to do that, but I want you to take your time so I can have tons of orgasms. You've already had your shower, why don't you go tuck your babies in and tell Kayla good night? As in half a dozen orgasms for her. When you get back, expect to not get much sleep tonight. All your wives need you inside them, and need your sperm, too."

"Babies?" he teased. "You keep telling me that they're young women. Now you call them babies."

Diana kissed him, then pulled the towel back over her breasts. "Yes, Sweetie, I'm teasing you about your 'babies.' As soon as they get over being traumatized by Ingles, you'll have a hard time keeping them out of our bed. In case you haven't thought about it, I suspect you were putting out pheromones during that rescue."

When Jeff started to object, Diana gently touched his mouth with a couple of fingers. "Oh, I know you weren't thinking about seducing them during the rescue, but you were on — what's the term — maybe, on high alert? I'll bet the place was reeking of pheromones."

"I didn't mean to," Jeff quietly said. "I didn't even think about it, but ... heck, you may be right. Shit, something else for me to concentrate on."

Diana touched her lips to his for a moment, "I'm just guessing, Love. Their reaction to you might very well be just hero worship for the handsome man who rescued them. You're darn sure good looking enough to enthrall them without the pheromones, but for whatever the reason, they are, indeed, enthralled. Of course, that has certainly worked out to the good. They're far from being afraid of you. It would have been a catastrophe if the general had assigned you as their guardian and they were afraid of you. It won't take long for them to want to become your wives, if they haven't already thought of it. They're just too timid to show it much just yet."

"Uh," Jeff said, a little embarrassed, "they kissed me on the mouth at the base. It wasn't a long kiss, but Nat tried to give me a little tongue. She obviously didn't know how, but she tried ... Di, I have enough wives. I mean, I know that Kayla is going to be my wife, but crap, Baby, that will be ten. I mean..."

"So," Diana smiled at him. "And do you think we really have a choice? Oh, we can put them off for a while, but sooner or later, they're going to decide that they can be wives just like Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa."

Jeff leaned his head against her cheek in mock surrender, although Diana knew he was a long way from giving up. "I can't believe I'm bitching about having multiple wives. This whole thing is surreal. Without Little One's enhancement, or whatever, I would be getting around to each of my wives every ten days or so."

Diana presented him with her quiet giggle that was almost identical to Arlene's. "With the 'connection' each of your wives have, you could make love to one of us and as long as the rest of us were touching you, or the one you were making love to, we would all experience it. But we do love to have you pump sperm into us. One of these days I want all my sister wives to be touching us when you pump that sperm into my fertile womb. I knew before when you impregnated me; I'm sure it will be even more intense the next time, and I want my sisters to experience it with me."

Diana kissed him again while he thought about what she had said. When their lips parted, she smiled at him. "Go tell your babies goodnight, give Kayla a few orgasms, then come service your wives. We'll be waiting."

"Yes, Ma'am," he teased.

As Diana got up from his lap, he willed his cock to go back down. By the time he had walked out of their suite and across the hall, he had managed it. After entering the suite's sitting room, he knocked on the girls' bedroom door. When nothing happened, he stood waiting.

"We called out for you to come in," Nat said a moment later as she opened the door.

"Yeah," Jeff responded, "there are drawbacks to the great sound insulation in this place. I couldn't hear you when you did."

"That's okay," she grinned as she grabbed his hand and led him over to the bed where the other two were sitting with their legs folded under them. Nat took his hand as she got back on the bed and pulled him down to sit with them. Since he didn't have his shoes on, he slid over to the middle of the bed and leaned back against the headboard. They were all wearing baby doll negligées, and although short, the material was not transparent. The tops of their breasts showed enough to entice him, though, and the length barely covered their panties if they were standing. Sitting on the bed, those panties peeked back at him as the girls moved around.

"I came to tell you goodnight," Jeff said, as he tried to keep his eyes where they should be.

"Do you like our outfits?" Whitney demurely asked.

"We couldn't get up the nerve to wear them when we showed you our other clothes," Nat added, "but we really wanted you to see our new negligées."

Jeff cleared his throat while he tried to think what to say. "Uh, the outfits are beautiful and you're beautiful in them, but ... Well, maybe I shouldn't be seeing you in them. I mean, it's my fault, I did come knock on your door, but maybe you should have on robes, or even meet me in your sitting room. I..." Crap, that doesn't even make sense. I just came in and sat down, knowing they would probably want to snuggle, then I said something dumb like that.

He could see the girls' expressions cloud up. It was going to rain and he was digging in deeper. He reached for them and they willingly came into his arms — all three of them at once. It was awkward, but somehow very intimate. He could feel the very firm braless breasts of Nicki and Nat pushing against his sides, and Whitney reached between them to touch her lips to his.

Oh, shit. Arlene must have spent some major money on that perfume they have on. She's obviously told them how to wear it, too. I didn't smell it until they snuggled with me, but I surely do now. Concentrating again, he willed his cock to stop swelling.

"Why don't you want to see us in our new outfits?" Nicki asked. "We love the way the material feels on our skin, and we like the way we look in them."

Jeff kissed her forehead. "It's just that, uh ... Look girls, you've just had a terrible experience. You were initiated into sex in the absolute worst way, so I feel ... awkward talking to you about sex. It's just that you look very — very sexy — in those baby dolls, and I shouldn't be looking at you like that. I don't want you afraid of me like you are of other men..."

"But we want to look sexy for you," Nat broke in. "We're not afraid of you. We would never be afraid of you. We know that Bill and Dave and Mr ... uh, Frank didn't do anything to us. We could see the look on his face when we wouldn't go close to him, but we're not crazy or anything. We're just..."

Jeff could see the tears start, and in desperation — without thinking — consoled her the way he would his wives. He gently kissed her, projecting his love to her. The kiss lengthened as she slumped into his arms. Before he quite realized what he was doing, his tongue traced her lips and her mouth opened slightly. Their tongues touched for a few moments and he felt her shiver.

"My turn," he vaguely heard from Nicki. Nat, obviously reluctant, finally pulled back and Nicki took her place. Another set of soft lips touched his, her breasts pushed hard against him.

I'm glad this isn't combat,  some small part of his mind thought as Nicki's mouth opened to his probing tongue, for I have just been flanked. What the hell am I going to do?

After Whitney got her kiss also, he managed to get out of their room, concentration broken, his cock now like a steel bar in his pants. I should never have gotten on that bed with them. I know they saw the bulge in my pants. They would have had to be blind not to notice. I kissed them like lovers. I went in there expecting to kiss them on the forehead and maybe give them a hug. Well, I blew that to hell. They were raped, for goodness sake. They're supposed to be afraid of men. Fuck, maybe Diana is right. Maybe I went into that room at Ingles' house spewing pheromones. Was my body trying to snare them even as I was trying to save them? Then here tonight, I hold them, kiss them, and try to send my love to them. Oh, shit, I'm fucked.

But I'm going to try and stop this, though. I know that Diana and Arlene want the girls to become my wives. But how can they want more wives for me — for us? I wonder what my other wives really think. From the beginning, they all seemed to assume that Kayla would be one of us. Diana says that Kayla is special and could feel us very quickly. This has been a gradual thing with my other wives. The more we made love and the more each new woman was around my other wives, the more they could feel each other and me, too. At least that's what Diana says. How can they feel each other? How can they feel me? I can't really feel them — at least not the way they say they can. I can feel them when we make love, though. I can — push — with my mind when I want them to come, and they will. It seemed as if I were with Joyce when she was shot. I don't really understand any of this, and when I ask Little One, she just says that atrophied abilities are returning to her Prime and that I influence my mates. How the hell do I "influence" my mates?

He tapped twice on Kayla's door and opened it. Her bedroom was lit only by the reading lamp by the bed. She inserted her bookmark and put the book aside, turning to smile at him. "The girls really enjoyed their shopping trip. Of course, that was nothing compared to their show for you. They really enjoyed that," she laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Have you told them good night, yet? They've been rushing around getting dressed for you," she said, patting the bed beside her. As Jeff neared, Kayla's eyes drifted downward. "Looks like you've already been to see them," she smirked.

Before Jeff realized it, he had seated himself on the side of Kayla's bed and taken her in his arms. "I fucked up," he whispered. "I think I've somehow called those girls." He looked up to meet Kayla's eyes. "We talked a little about this, but I guess you don't really know what I mean..."

"Not in detail, I guess, but then I am here," she teased. "Although, I don't think you really had to 'call' me. But why do you say you've 'fucked up.' What better place for them than in your family? They've had nothing but hardship in their lives. What could possibly be wrong with them becoming part of a loving family with everything they could ever need provided for? You even have a school here, taught by what has to be the most overqualified teacher of all time. And, she's one of your wives, too."

Assuming her question was rhetorical, Jeff took her hand. "Baby, why did you fall for me? And when did it happen? I purposely held my pheromones in check, yet you came to me at the base. I know we did a lot of kissing the two times we slept together, but you had already come to stay with me by then."

"I," Kayla started, then stopped to think. "I don't know, but I think I must have decided when we were sitting at the table in your kitchen. I felt the love of your wives for you, and I could feel your love for them. Do you believe in love at first sight?" Not waiting for an answer, she went on, "I've been waiting for that special someone. I just knew I had found him. I could feel him — you."

"But my gosh, Kayla, I have nine wives already. How could you even consider sharing me with that many other women?"

Kayla kissed two fingers and touched his lips with them, staring lovingly into his eyes for a moment. "Well, a number of things, all of which I guess I can't really put into words very adequately. But generally, your Queen talked to me for several hours. She was brutally, I guess you could say, honest with me. She gave me a synopsis of your early times as a family, then a very detailed account of what happened with Jack and Arnie. Detailed, but I think she still left out some things that I suspect you did to Jack. I know you better than you think I do," she said, touching his face. "I didn't push Diana for more about what you did, but she knew that I knew she had left out most of your response toward Jack. One day I'll know everything. Anyway, she told me about what she and Arlene did to trap you into staying when you were thinking about divorcing her. Then how each of your wives happened. Oh, not all the details; we didn't have time, but I certainly want to know those as well. She promised that they would come one of these days.

"She never went into exactly how, but I know that something happened to you to make you an even better lover than you were. I'm no genius like Helen, but neither am I stupid, Jeff. You have one of the healers, and obviously yours works — works for more than just a minor injury. Your Queen looks nineteen, and she's thirty. Jill has to be mid-thirties or more, yet she looks, maybe, sixteen or seventeen. All this stuff about a Prime. Oh, I've heard of Alphas, real or not, but where did the word Prime come from? If it isn't the Healer doing these things, then you've brought some alien technology back with you — something.

"But all of that aside, I fell in love with you — hard. And how can I think about sharing you with nine other women?" A little giggle escaped. "All I have to do is look at them. They all love you. They look at you almost as if you're a god, or something."

"Kayla, I don't like that..."

"All right; they adore you, then, if that sounds better to you. I don't see sexual frustration, and Diana said you regularly fucked them 'unconscious.' You must spend half the night doing it, but I can wait my turn," she said with a devilish grin. "I've had sex, and I told you exactly how many — or how few — men. Not much experience, and what I did have was disappointing, but probably not for the reasons you think. I chose well, and they were probably decent lovers, to give them credit. They certainly tried, but they weren't the person I was looking for. I began to feel ... guilty, for one day I would have to tell my special one what I had done. I bought an array of vibrators and became celibate. Sounds stupid, but I wanted the whole thing, not just a cock pushed up me, so I waited. Oh, I had a good time when I experimented, but I wanted to make love — not just have sex. Make love with that special man I knew had to be out there somewhere. Then when I came to the base and started my training, I wanted to meet the man I saw in the video cam recordings as he led his team. As I told you, we studied your tactics, your logic. Some of it flat escapes me. I don't know how you obviously knew some of the things you did. After studying, I could vaguely understand your logic, and it was obviously right, but you seemed to go from one point of logic to the last without bothering to use the steps in the middle, and you did it in the space of a heartbeat." She sighed, her face blushing slightly. "I guess I fell in love with the Major Matthews that I watched on those cam recordings.

"Your team seemed to hang onto your every word. If you said it, it was gospel. Their belief in you is so strong that it's unbelievable, yet, you are far from a dictator. Our instructor pointed out that you were a teacher to the team. You frequently asked for suggestions or ideas, and you often used them, or subtly had the team member change his suggestion until it became the right one. In combat, your orders were followed instantly, seemingly without thought. They just reacted as if their own brain had told them what to do — total trust."

Kayla smiled up at him, "I almost had a heart attack when I was told to come here to interview Jill. I couldn't believe how lucky I was. I guess I was already in love with you when I walked in the door."

Jeff leaned over and kissed her, then pulled her into his arms as the kiss lengthened, causing her to moan into his mouth. Slowly, she sank back down on her back, taking him with her. She was wearing a long tee-shirt that he realized was his. Doesn't she have any negligées? Surely she does. But then with her having been at the base, and off planet so much, maybe she doesn't have any. I guess they wouldn't have been appropriate. Hell, they obviously wouldn't have been appropriate off-planet digging around in some ancient city,  he thought to himself. Still, she shopped with the others. Surely she wouldn't refuse to let Arlene buy her anything with all we've bought for the girls. I need to talk to her about this. Heck, if she felt that way, why didn't she just buy something for herself? Why is she wearing my tee-shirt? Then his mind caught up. Oh. My tee-shirt. He was suddenly humbled thinking about that.

Their lips parted and he glanced downward. "You like?" she asked, preening for him.

She had slept in a tee-shirt at the base,  he thought. She even took her bra off the second night. But that gray, military tee-shirt didn't look the same on her as this one does. Oh, she looked sexy in the other one, but this worn-thin, white shirt accentuates her breasts, and the tenting of her large nipples against the fabric looks delicious.

Kayla pulled him down to lie beside her as she touched his face again. He put his arm around her as they lay facing each other, her head on his shoulder, her leg thrown over his and their faces only inches apart. "When are you going to make love to me?" she quietly asked.

"In just a few minutes. And we've already started, My Love. As a matter of fact, my Queen gave me strict instructions," he grinned while gently shaking her chin, "to give you several orgasms before coming back to her."

"No. I mean really make love to me?"

Jeff touched his lips to hers for a moment, then, "When the time is right."

Kayla sighed. "I know it can't be tonight. All your wives must be waiting for you, and I surely don't want them to be mad at me."

Jeff kissed her deeply, then pulled back to look into her tear-moistened eyes. "Not tonight, but for a different reason. I don't want us to be hurried. We'll talk tomorrow. We probably should include my — our — Queen, also. And yeah, my wives are waiting, but that doesn't keep me from doing this," he said as he pushed the tee-shirt up and kissed and suckled her breasts.

Her body responded to him, her pussy becoming wet, but she didn't have orgasms from having her breasts nursed like his wives did. Maybe she'll like this better,  he thought as he kissed his way down her body. Sliding down the bed, he pulled her panties off as he went. Soon, his mouth was on her vagina and the first of her orgasms struck like a bolt of lightning. Her body arched up, her knees slamming against his head. Time stopped as her mouth opened in a silent scream.

When her mind could function somewhat, she realized that she was building again. She had never been able to get off by having her pussy licked. Orgasms were hard to come by and came only as singles, usually with her lover inside her and her own hand vigorously rubbing her clit while he stroked her. They came a little quicker with her vibrator, but one at a time was all she had ever achieved. What she had just had couldn't be considered an orgasm by the old definition — it was far, far more. Even that was an understatement. She gripped the sheet, her knuckles white as his tongue teased around her clit, then his lips locked around it and he sucked. This time she had a lungful of air and the scream was far from silent.

Three more of those in the next five or six minutes left her barely on this side of consciousness, her body lethargic, her mind mush. She felt his mouth, tasting of her pussy, press against hers. After a moment, he tucked the sheet under her chin, said, "Sleep well, My Love," extinguished the light and was gone. She was asleep before he reached the door.

-------

As he entered the bedroom, a glance around showed him that the attire for the night was topless with bikini panties or thongs. His cock, already rock-hard from the girls and Kayla, lurched in his jeans as Diana slowly walked toward him, her long breasts swaying gently. She had chosen black spikes, thigh highs, and a black thong. Before he could touch her, all four of his younger wives were after his clothes. There was a lot of giggling as they tried to get his jeans down over his erection. In what seemed like seconds, he stood nude before his Queen.

"We've missed you," she quietly said as she pushed those gorgeous breasts against his chest.

"I missed all of you," he managed just before their mouths met. The thong parted suspiciously easy as his hand snapped it from her body and he threw it behind him. Instead of the giggle he expected, her breath caught momentarily, then became harsh, obviously heavy with desire. He picked her up and placed her carefully on the bed, his cock sticking out between them. As he moved his face toward her groin, "No," she gasped out. "In me. In me please. I can't wait."

As her legs spread to welcome him, her hand guided him to her entrance. "Hard. Now," she almost screamed out.

He held back despite her efforts to pull him in, but she snarled at him. "Dammit, Jeff. I won't break. I said hard."

He slammed his hips forward, his cock pushing the walls of her pussy open, the head slamming into her womb. Her legs locked around his hips with an amazing strength, her well-disciplined pussy muscles clamping down on him to keep him within her. Her scream tore at his ears as she shuddered under him and collapsed.

Laura was instantly beside them, her lips close to Diana's ear whispering to her as she gently kneaded her Queen's breast with Arlene doing the same thing on the other side.

Laura turned her face to Jeff, only inches away. "Come in her."

"I can't, Baby," he said through clinched teeth. "If I pull back I'm afraid I'll hurt her. She has my dick locked in her. Besides, she's out. I can't just fuck her when she's out..."

Laura's eyes met his. "Come in her, dammit. Come in her."

"Laura, I..."

"Jeff, we all know you can come whenever you please. It's like pushing a button with you. You can fuck forever and not come, or come, basically, whenever you think the woman needs it. She needs it. We'll talk about this later. Right now, just come... please."

He could move a little, he hoped without hurting her. He did the best he could as he concentrated. Hell, it surely isn't hard to come in this beautiful woman,  he thought. Shortly, he could feel his orgasm approaching. He knew it was going to be a good one. Groaning loudly, he shoved hard against her cervix and released. His prostate cramped, his balls snapped up tight against the base of his dick, and the first rope of thick come spurted out with force. Diana wailed in her sleep, her pussy suddenly milking him. He managed to take a couple of short strokes, his cock spurting almost continuously. His wife sighed and relaxed as the last of his sperm gushed into her to force the excess out between them.

Both Laura and Arlene were groggy and relaxed beside Diana, smiles on their faces. Jeff relaxed but held most of his weight on his forearms as an occasional aftershock pulsed Diana's pussy.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I love you, my Queen."

Diana smiled in her sleep.



-------

Chapter 41

SATURDAY MORNING — OCTOBER 5

Jeff stood in the vanity area. Flopping his cock over into the sink, he started to wash himself when he glanced in the mirror. You idiot. You can't go to Kayla like this. You have to wash more than your dick. You're covered in sweat and pussy juice. Turning, he went in to take a quick shower. A few minutes later, hair still damp, he put on shorts and a tee-shirt and picked up his pants. After stopping by to get Little One out of her bedside drawer, he walked out of the suite and across the hall. Diana turned over in her sleep, the gap he had left in the bed closing as his wives snuggled closer to each other.

I don't have time for all three girls as late as it is, so I'll do Kayla tonight,  he thought as he quietly opened her bedroom door. The blue beams reached out from Little One as he quietly walked toward the bed. Kayla's already slow breaths of deep sleep hesitated for an instant, then resumed even more deeply.

He pulled the sheet back momentarily and held the Healer near Kayla's chest, watching for a second as Little One positioned herself to her liking. He turned to lay his pants over a chair, then slid under the cover with his new wife-to-be. Setting his internal clock for 5:45, he closed his eyes, his hand grasping Kayla's as his breathing deepened and his mind gave way to sleep.

-------

As consciousness gradually returned, Jeff felt Little One spreading out over his shoulders, radiating contentment.

{{{ Your new wife was basically in good health. But I started the process to bring her body to its potential, as well as the process of enhancement, as you call it. }}}

Thank you, Little One. Diana says that Kayla is special.

{{{ Her brain has a slightly more advanced aptitude toward telepathy. It is too soon to tell whether that aptitude will be of consequence. She should, however, fit in well with your other wives. There is already a strong feeling of love for you, and a feeling of ... belonging. }}}

Thank you for taking care of Kayla, and ... for all you have done for me and, well, for all of us. I would be dead if not for you.

Little One was silent for a time, then, {{{ I have missed you. I would have gone with you to your base. }}}

The "would have gone" had connotations of I would have liked to have gone,  but Jeff wasn't sure of her precise meaning.

I know. I wanted you to go, but the security is so tight on the base that we would never have gotten you past the entrance without them knowing it. They would have found you for certain and I was afraid that once you were back there they would try to take you from me.

{{{ They are not capable of doing that, if I decided to not go with them. }}}

I know, but that wouldn't work either,  he thought, using a bit of tact. I missed you, too.

Jeff lay content for a short while, then pulled Kayla into his arms, enjoying feeling her breath against his shoulder for a moment before she awakened.

Her eyes popped open and she stared up at him. A look of wonder crossed her face. Taking a deep breath, she whispered, "You did it, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he answered, simply.

"My body feels different, even just lying here. I feel ... good. Really good. I..."

"I have had some serious discussions with the general concerning what I can tell my wives. He has given me some leeway. You will meet Little One later. Now isn't the time for proper introductions."

"So Little One is the Healer? You talk as if she's ... alive."

"She is an artificial intelligence, and ... more. She is, indeed, alive, but she is very much different from the other Healers. She's the healer for a ... Prime. Plus, she has expanded herself far beyond her original design. She is stronger and has achieved the capability of tapping a power source that I cannot seem to even understand; although, she has tried to show me several times. I think, from what little I can understand, that it is based on the dimensional energies, much as the ship uses, according to her. But our communication is cumbersome at best. I receive emotions, whole concepts, images ... other things. She doesn't communicate with words. I have to translate what she sends into our wording, and the translation is far from perfect. Sometimes we totally misunderstand each other. We're stumbling forward together."

"Oh, my gosh," Kayla whispered. "Where is she? When can I see her?"

Jeff hesitated for a moment. "She has learned to change her shape. Frequently, she rides my shoulders spread out almost like a small, thin blanket, her color mimicking mine."

"Can I see her? Please. Does she look like the other Healers when she's not on your shoulders?"

Jeff hesitated for a second, his expression becoming blank as he conversed with Little One. Then, "She does look much like the other Healers; well, in her unaltered state, at least. But, no, I don't want you to see her now, because she doesn't want to show herself like that. She wishes to be ... presented to you. She worries that you will be fearful of her if you see her change. Kayla, she is a person in every sense of the word. Female. I don't really know how I know that, but she is. I care very much for her. Please, let's just get up and go to breakfast. We'll talk about this later, and I promise, you will get to meet her soon."

Kayla gave him a fake pout for a moment, but it morphed into a grin after a second. Crawling over Jeff to get up, she tried to check out his back as best she could, but she couldn't see anything to indicate there was an alien machine under his tee-shirt clinging to his shoulders. Standing, she pulled her own tee-shirt over her head and threw it to him. Laughing, she ran to the bathroom.

Jeff stood, picked up his pants, put one leg in and was standing on one foot putting the other leg in when Kayla came barreling out of the bathroom. Jeff tried frantically to push his foot down the leg of his pants, but of course, his foot momentarily caught in the tight jeans. When Kayla slammed into him, laughing, bubbling with energy, she caused him to stumble back onto the bed.

On top of him, her face only inches from his, "I forgot to tell you thank you for those wonderful orgasms last night, and for using the Healer on me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Laughter catching, he chuckled, said the heck with getting his pants on, grabbed her in a hug and kissed her. At least that stopped the repetitive thank-you's.

With her mouth locked to his, some rather superb titties having bounced practically in his face as she tackled him, and the tussling, his dick had somehow found the opening in his undershorts. Jeff Junior ceased to "hang" and quickly came to full-hard.

"Oh," Kayla hissed out as she felt Jeff's cock between her legs. She had seen it outlined through his shorts, but it had not been erect. She broke the kiss, pushed up and looked between them. "Oh, shit," she mumbled, her eyes locked onto the pole practically at her exposed pussy. Diana told me he was big, she even emphasized it, but that thing will never fit in me regardless of what she says. He'll split me wide open.

They both heard a gasp from the door, then two more.

"Oh, shit," Kayla and Jeff said together as they looked.

Whitney was holding her hand over her mouth. Nat and Nicki were just standing there with their mouths hanging open.

Jeff's cock wilted as if it had been immersed in a bucket of ice water.

"We're sorry," Whitney said as they started to back out the door.

"We didn't mean to interrupt," Nat said in a strained voice.

"Oh, fuck," Kayla whispered as she disentangled herself, put on a robe and started for the door. "I'll get them settled down and meet you in the kitchen in a few minutes," she quietly said over her shoulder to Jeff.

Jeff quickly pulled his pants the rest of the way up, then startling everyone, said, "Bring them here."

Kayla was now hugging the girls, when she turned to Jeff, "Are you sure?"

"Bring them here."

"We're sorry, Major," Nicki tried to say as they shortly stood next to Jeff.

"No Major, remember? Just Jeff. Nothing has changed. You guys didn't do anything wrong — nothing. Do you understand?"

There were tentative replies in the affirmative, but it was obvious that they were only saying what they knew he wanted them to say.

"Have you ever seen a cock before, other than Ingles' dick?" Kayla asked as she turned each of the girls to look at her.

"Uh, yeah," Nat said.

"Lots of times," Whitney added.

"'Lots of times?'" Kayla repeated, puzzled. "Surely there was more discipline than that at the orphanage?"

"Don't bet on it," Whitney snapped. "There were a lot more boys than girls. You had to be careful to not be alone when you were around some of the boys. Some of them were nice, but others weren't. We three stayed together to protect each other. Hardly a week went by that one of the boys didn't unzip his pants and pull his thing out for a second. We've seen a lot of ... uh, cocks and almost all of them erect. The guys would shake them at us. Nothing much was ever done when we complained, either, so we basically quit complaining if the boys didn't try to touch us. But we've never seen anything like..." she wound down looking toward Jeff.

"We're sorry we interrupted. We didn't know Jeff was here," Nicki said, her voice low. "We've spoiled everything for you," she finished, with tears in her eyes as she looked at Kayla.

Jeff was sitting on the side of the bed. He took Nicki's hand and pulled her to him to sit on his lap. "This all sounds silly, but here's what happened. Kayla was just thanking me for something ... well that we did last night. We made love a little bit, but not intercourse. I slept here last night for a while. She got up to shower, then came running back in to thank me for loving her. I was putting on my jeans when she grabbed me to hug me and we fell on the bed with her on top of me. That's when you guys came in. Having a beautiful, nude woman in my arms produced the same results that it did with those boys when they saw you three. But we were not going to have intercourse. We're sorry we embarrassed you..."

"You didn't embarrass us," Nat said.

"Can we see it again?" Nicki asked with a devilish grin, her eyes glancing downward.

"No," Jeff said, his face starting to flush.

"Why not?" Whitney said, indignantly. "You showed it to Kayla."

All four females were now looking at his groin, and Kayla had a chicken shit grin on her face.

Jeff pushed Nicki to her feet, then stood himself and swatted Kayla on her butt. "Get showered and get some clothes on so we can get something to eat."

"Didn't take you long to get her out of her clothes, Dad," Arlene said from the doorway, not even bothering to try and suppress her grin.

"Don't start," Jeff said as he passed her on the way back to their suite to get fresh clothes, while trying not to hear the giggles behind him.

-------

As Fred pulled away from the camp office, he called over his shoulder, "Where are we going? Where's my navigator?"

"Just find us somewhere to eat breakfast," Jessica responded from the living room. "We'll decide then."

Fred didn't care. They could have stayed right here on the lake as far as he was concerned. He had three pretty women who seemed determined to keep his balls empty, and his first love was in his mind to reflect the orgasms back and forth and tell him how much she loved him — well, when she wasn't bitching at him for getting himself cut. He would head back toward the Interstate. They would find something near the interchange, or he would just turn south. Something would strike his fancy soon. Whistling tunelessly, he checked for traffic and pulled out as his mind drifted back to this morning and being awakened as Jessica slid her warm pussy down his dick.

Shortly after he pulled onto the road, Jessica hollered out to him, "Get on I 295 South to exit 21 B, then west on I 10 until you get to exit 343. Turn onto US 301 south toward Strake. We're going to Silver Springs for a ride on the glass bottom boats."

Fred scribbled down the directions. "Roger that," he said as he tossed the small pad on the dash. "There's a place to eat on our right. You gals ready?"

"Yes," a chorus of female voices answered him from the back.

Doesn't get any better than this,  Fred thought yet again as he gently turned the big rig into the restaurant's lot.

-------

This morning, the girls were eased into the breakfast routine as Ann, Jennie and Melissa each guided a girl through parts of the meal preparation. Diana took Kayla under her wing as Jeff looked around the kitchen, grinning at the activity and smells. Grabbing a cup, he started for the coffee when Helen motioned in the general direction of the living room. "Coffee is already in the living room. Get out of here before you're run over," she teased. As he started to turn, she grabbed his head and kissed him for a second. "Go talk to the guys."

Jeff grinned back at her. "Yes, Ma'am."

When Jeff got to the living room, Dave, Frank and Bill were sitting in front of the fire that Dave had just started. Jeff poured himself a cup from the carafe on the cart and pulled up a seat.

Dave turned to look at Jeff. "Have you heard from Fred since he got out of the hospital?"

Jeff blew gently on the steaming coffee and grinned. "Yeah, Diana talked to Carla after we got home last night." Thinking about it, Jeff's grin got bigger. "Apparently his women had a — shall we say — private welcome home party for him. The only gripe Carla had was that his semen tasted bitter after all the steak he had eaten. Seems like he set some kind of record at a restaurant. Obviously he's healed already, or close enough."

"You think Fred wanting all that food was the result of his body healing quickly?" Frank asked.

Jeff took a tentative sip of the coffee and leaned back. "Yeah, other than the bear attack, I think Fred was the first of us to get hurt badly since we've been ... enhanced."

"But you took longer..." Frank started, then amended it to, "then again, you had part of your shoulder that was destroyed — wasn't even there. His was a cut, from what we've been told. Basically no material lost, although the cut was severe."

"Come and get it before we throw it out," Diana said over the PA.

Their conversation interrupted, they hastened to the kitchen.

-------

"Coke for breakfast?" Ann teased. "How do you do that?"

Nicki looked chastised. "Uh, if we're not supposed to..."

Ann, suddenly realizing what she had done, turned fully to Nicki and took her hand as they sat next to each other at the breakfast table.

Diana, having heard the exchange blurted out, "Dave, what are you and Evie up to today?"

As the conversation went on around them, grateful for Diana's cover, Ann leaned close to Nicki. "You can have anything you want to drink. If you want buttermilk to drink with your breakfast, it is yours. I was just teasing. Please forgive me. My husband and our Queen would frown on your drinking wine unless it was a special occasion, but that's about the only restriction I could possibly think of. Look, we don't know anything about what you've been through, and I said something stupid ... I was just trying to kid a little. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Nicki forced a giggle, but there was a shine of tears in her eyes. "We had the cheapest cola drinks that could be bought — one glass per day. Near the end of the month, there was only water to drink. I saw the Coke dispenser and just couldn't resist it. I never had a fountain drink before yesterday — I can't believe how good it tastes. It's far better than the cheap bottle colas we had. I guess I shouldn't drink Coke for breakfast. We only had watered-down juice for breakfast at the orphanage — or water when that ran out."

"Well, you can have all you want here. And again, I'm sorry, I was only teasing. You don't like coffee?"

"I don't think so, for basically the same reason. It costs too much and the orphanage didn't buy it. I can't ever remember trying it."

"Well, it's an acquired taste, so put plenty of cream and sweetener in it if you decide to try it."

Ann, fighting the lump in her throat, got up and got a glass, filled it with ice and then Coke. Sitting back by Nicki, she just grinned, took a sip and went back to eating.

Nicki, beginning to feel like she had a friend, did the same.

-------

After breakfast, Caitlin and Joyce waylaid Jeff in the hallway. "We need to talk," Caitlin said, her face serious.

"We need to talk," Jeff repeated in his mind. Words no man wants to hear from his wife. Well, I know she hasn't been cheating on me. Heck she hasn't even been anywhere by herself and I know she wouldn't do something like that anyway so it can't be anything like that. But still, I don't like those words.

He pasted a smile on his face, "Sure ladies. Where shall we go?"

Joyce took his arm. "Down this way. We'll sit in one of the alcoves and look at the snow while we talk."

Shortly they were seated on a soft bench with the women snuggled against him. Well, it can't be too bad; they're both hugging me.

Caitlin slid away a little bit, reaching to take his hand as she looked into his eyes. Her expression became bland, "Baby, did you pay that hospital to give me a job?"

Jeff sat up straight. "What? No. Of course not."

"But they received a large amount of money a couple of weeks ago. I thought it was you."

Jeff turned fully toward her, taking both her hands. "I did give, or more correctly, the foundation gave the hospital some money. But I swear it was before you went there looking for a job. If I had my way, neither of you would be working, though. If giving the hospital money had anything to do with you getting a job there, it would go against what I would rather you do, and that's just quit and stay here."

"I told you," Joyce said to Caitlin.

"So you really didn't buy me that job?"

Jeff sighed. "No, absolutely not. Baby, I don't want you to work, but I'm not going to stand in your way, either. I can see where their receiving the money and buying new equipment with it would lead to hiring someone who is familiar with the equipment. They'll need techs to operate some of it, and supervisors to oversee everything. You will have to have classes to teach the nurses in the intensive care units to use the new computer systems, and other things. So I guess, in a way, I messed over myself when I gave the hospital the money. They suddenly needed someone with your training to run a more advanced intensive care unit. That damned sure wasn't my intention, so I guess I screwed myself with the donation."

"Well, they haven't bought anything, yet. Apparently, that is going to be part of my job — deciding what they need and implementing the purchasing and training. So you haven't even talked with anyone at the hospital?"

"No, I left that up to the accountant. I wanted to help our local hospital after what happened to Joyce. Oh, I know they can't have a trauma unit, at least nothing that can compare to those big hospitals in Denver. Like you told me, a true trauma unit has to have too many personnel — highly qualified personnel — there 24/7. But what I could give will at least enhance their intensive care unit, and there was enough money to add to the building structure itself, also."

"So you're buying a wing at the hospital?" Caitlin asked.

"We gave them money; what they do with it is their business," Jeff said, frowning.

"And they don't know where the money came from?" Caitlin insisted.

"Well, they certainly know the name of the foundation, but it would take quite a bit of digging to find my name. I did all I could to keep them from knowing."

"Still," Caitlin said, "I'll bet they've figured out who that foundation really is. The administrator didn't get that job because he was stupid. He's far from it. I'll bet a good percentage of the people in the area know of the rich man who bought the hotel on top of the mountain. Our 'parade of Escalades' tends to stand out as well. You're the most obvious source of this as the new big money in the area, so that's where he'll start looking first. The deputies all know who gave the new vests, even though Sheriff Tate tried to keep that a secret. I'm sure the hospital administrator knows about those. " She grinned at them. "Face it, Jeff, you're busted."

Jeff sat quiet for a moment, then, "If they figure out that I'm behind the foundation, then the address of the retreat will tie you to me. Caitlin, I swear I had no intention of this happening. I just wanted to help the local hospital so people who need it would have a better chance of surviving. It needs a good intensive care unit, and the hospital sure could stand to be bigger."

Caitlin sighed. "If word gets out, the people under me will think I've been given the job because of the money you gave the hospital. Once the nurses see all of us together, they'll think I'm one of your mistresses, anyway. It's not as if I can tell them I'm one of your wives — of course, if they knew that, it would just be worse."

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Baby. I swear I gave the money before any of us thought about your working there."

Caitlin looked out the window for a moment. "I know. I believe you. Heck, maybe my nurses won't find out. And, oh, there's something else. My nurse manager from Denver called and said that I still had enough comp time and vacation to consider it notice of my quitting. So I can start down here on Monday, after all. The hospital in Denver is just going to pay me for my time. She said that the administrator from Winter Park talked to their administrator about getting me down here as soon as possible. So I start in Winter Park Monday morning."

"Baby, I'm not going to say that I'm glad you're going back to work, but if that's what you want to do, then I'll back you any way I can."

"You know my two weeks are up Monday," Joyce broke in. "I'm going back to work Monday night."

Jeff turned to grab Joyce in a hug. "I know and I'm dreading it. I'm scared out of my mind about your going back out there."

"Don't even think about telling me I can't, Husband. I'm not going to run from the job after I got hurt. There have apparently been a couple of guys over the years who have quit after being hurt. You should hear the contempt when the deputies talk about them. I'm going back, and I'm asking for the same beat. If they won't let me have it, I'm going to throw a fit."

Jeff knew he would do the same thing, but it gave him goose bumps just thinking about his wife doing it. Sighing, he said, "I know, Baby. I know."

-------

Diana intercepted him coming down the hall. "We need to talk."

Jeff stopped as if he had run into a brick wall.

"What?" Diana said, puzzled.

"Twice, in an hour. Twice, I get 'we need to talk.'"

"So, what's wrong with that?" Diana asked, her voice with a little more edge than she meant.

Jeff stood looking at her for a moment. "What it means is," he said leaning to throw her over his shoulder, "that I'm pussy whipped," he finished as he slapped her on her butt and started for the bedroom.

"Jeffff,  put me down. We need to talk. There's something important going on..."

Whap!

"Ouch. Shit, that hurt," Diana griped while trying to wiggle off his shoulder and rub her ass at the same time. He didn't pay any attention. She wasn't going anywhere and they both knew it.

She propped a hand against his back to try to push off and keep her breasts from bouncing hard against him. It didn't work. "Jeff,  we don't have time for this. We've got things that have to be done today."

"Yep, sure do," he said, rubbing her ass as they passed Frank and Margaret. "We have to talk," he said to them.

"Bet I know what about," Frank laughed.

"I'm serious," Diana protested, ignoring Frank.

"Yep, me too," Jeff agreed, walking on.

Frank looked at Margaret. "We have to go back to Saint Louis Monday morning. We won't have much time for loving when we get there..."

Margaret put her hands on her hips. "You woke me up at four this morning. Surely, that will hold you until lunchtime, at least," she tried to say sternly. She could see the look in his eyes, though. "Frank, don't you dare. Don't you do it, Frank," she admonished, backing up, then turning to run — too late. He picked up a kicking Margaret and threw her over his shoulder. "I lost count of your orgasms after ten this morning. How many did you have?"

"I don't know. I lost count, too," she mumbled. "Frank, I'm too damn old for this," she tried to indignantly say while draped over his shoulder. Somehow, the statement lost some of its flavor with her hanging upside down.

Frank turned to walk down the hall with her. "Oh, too old my ass. You look thirty and probably feel like a teenager. I damn sure do. You're always telling me to back off of work; that I don't need any more money; that I need to let Tingle run things. Let's go check out that tight pussy of yours — see if it's any tighter than it was this morning."

Margaret kept protesting, but he knew he had the "battle" won. He could smell her.

Arlene, and the girls were coming out of their suite as Jeff and Diana passed. The girls stopped, staring. Diana gave a little finger wave as Jeff turned into their suite, her face bright red.

"He's..." Nat started.

"Gonna fuck her brains out," Arlene said, grinning.

"Does he? I mean ... Does she..." Whitney started, but wound down.

"Are you asking if she's willing? Look, he's an Alpha — a Prime. Any of us are willing, to put it very mildly, anywhere, anytime. He is our husband. We love him and he loves us. Don't let what that Ingles bastard did to you influence your view of anything you see around here." She grabbed Whitney's hand. "Momma will be coming before he gets his dick all the way in." Realizing the shock probably wasn't going to go away real soon, Arlene herded the young women back into their suite. "Come on, I need to explain some things."

Inside the sitting room, Arlene opened the refrigerator and got each of them a Coke. After sitting, she composed her thoughts for a moment, then caught the eyes of each of the girls in turn. "We had a discussion last night — about you guys. We had some choices to make, and we came to a decision. Bluntly, we could treat you with sympathy — which we certainly feel — or we could treat you like one of us. Now please don't misunderstand. We hurt for you, and hate what happened to you, but ... you need to heal. We want you to be one of us, so why should we try to act like you're just visitors, and moreover try to treat you with kid gloves. You're family. Family. No one else in this house would do more than grin at what you just saw Mom and Dad do. They love each other. You can bet that any of my sisters would like to be where Momma is right now. I would like to be where Momma is right now. Mom will come out of there glued to his side looking fresh fucked with a grin all over her face."

She let that sink in for a moment, then continued, "For all intents and purposes, you have been adopted — oh not really — but you belong to my father and mother, and they belong to you. I'm your sister. You will never be without family again — never. No one will hurt you in this house. But ... on the other hand, we're not going to treat you differently than any other family member. And yeah, Bill and his wives, Frank and Margaret, and Dave and his wives are all family, too. Now, I'm not going to fuck my husband in the living room in front of you — well not deliberately, anyway. But if you should walk in while he's draining my milk, I'm not going to get embarrassed and try to act like nothing is happening."

"Milk?" Nicki asked, looking at the other girls for a second.

"Yeah, Mom and I have milk in our boobs. It's a family thing, or maybe a Queen thing. We either have to use a breast pump or have our husband drain us. We choose our husband if he has time. Besides, I get some really good orgasms while he's doing it."

"But ... you haven't had a baby, have you?" from Nicki.

"No, but Mom does it, and her mom, too. That's the reason I said that I didn't know whether it was an inherited thing, or a Queen thing. Evie is starting to do it, and so is Carla, and they're both becoming Queens. Mom thinks it's a Queen thing. Little On... ," she slammed to a halt just before she finished. Then, "Uh, someone else told us that some women are born Queens, and others become Queens. But that's beside the point right now."

The girls just sat and looked at here. "Sex isn't a taboo subject around here. But our sex is with love, and with one partner. Well, one male partner. We're not really bi, but we sometimes love each other when our husband is loving another of us. It's complicated to say, but it's not at all complicated, really."

There was quiet for a moment, then the girls looked at each other. "Uh," Nat said, "how do you decide who is going to..."

Arlene grinned at them, "He fucked us all unconscious last night." She looked at them as they tried to assimilate that. "He made love to us. If I had said he loved us all unconscious," it would have sounded a little lame. But he did love us — all unconscious, just as he's doing to Mom right now. And ... if you play your cards right, it could be you in there one day.



-------

Chapter 42

Last night, Jeff had felt that he had cheated Diana since she had come so quickly, then passed out. When she had started the "we need to talk" routine, he had seized the opportunity to give her a little more loving to "teach" her a lesson about the expression men dread to hear.

When he chucked her on the bed, she "tried" to scramble away, but he tossed her back, pulled her shoes off — she wasn't wearing socks — then yanked her shorts and panties off. He flipped her onto her belly, then pushed her top over her breasts. With one knee on either side of her ass, he reached under her to knead her breasts and pull on her nipples. She bucked and "tried" to get out from under him, but the giggling made her actions less convincing.

He kicked his shoes off and wiggled out of his jeans and undershorts while lying across her to keep her on the bed. She bucked up hard, rolled over and almost got off the bed before his hand caught her ankle and pulled her back. Hiking her tight ass up, he buried his mouth in her pussy. She shrieked and thrashed, but her pussy was already wet. She fought to keep from coming, while gasping out that they had important things to talk about.

Again, with a knee on either side of her and her ass in the air, he grabbed his cock and lined it up with her tunnel. She shrieked and wiggled, keeping his cock out of her. His hand descended on her ass with a resounding crack that produced a scream and a moment's hesitation in her thrashing around. He rammed his cock to her womb with one stroke.

"Oh, shitttt," she wailed. He immediately began a series of rapid, short strokes in her soaked pussy, jarring her womb and causing her breasts to jiggle and sway. He fucked her hard for five minutes, knowing he was hurting her some, but also knowing she loved it rough. Soon, he knew he could come and worked toward that goal. Diana felt his orgasm approach and humped her ass back at him as hard as she could. She had already had several small orgasms, even though she was trying not to, but the big one was fast approaching. He grabbed her hips and slammed hard into her one last time, his cock jerking as his sperm-laden semen pumped into her in gushes.

Diana squealed and thrashed as she felt the warm spurts flood her cervix. She flailed her head until her long hair was almost a halo about her face. She could feel the world fading. Jeff did something and she was suddenly on her back with her legs on his shoulders. He continued pounding her, his cock making obscene sounds as it slammed into her come-filled pussy. She could feel his thick come oozing down the crack of her ass as his mind touched that part of her that only the two of them knew. She felt the mental push. Her body instantly responded with an ever-increasing orgasm. It didn't stop, but just went on and on. Impossibly, his cock, feeling like an iron bar deep inside her, began spurting again.

Her breath ran out, but the orgasm continued. She trembled, his cock seeming to consume her being. He pulled back until the head was just inside her, then rammed forward and held. How much will he come? I can feel every spurt. I can't breathe; can't quit coming. I'm going to... 

Later, she awoke with her head in his lap, the feel of him wiping her face with a damp washcloth. "I love you," he whispered as he leaned near her ear.

"I..." Diana croaked before trying to swallow to get some moisture in her mouth. Arlene held a glass of cold water to her lips and helped her sit up a little to drink.

"Hush," her daughter quietly said. "I know," then pressed soft lips to hers for a moment. "I could feel his love for you in the girls' suite, and your orgasms about blotted out my mind. I couldn't stay away. I had an orgasm while trying to talk to the three of them, then just staggered over here like a drunk. They probably think I'm nuts."

Arlene reached up and tenderly caressed Jeff's face. "You did good, Husband," she smiled.

Arlene moved around and snuggled under Jeff's right shoulder as he sat with his back against the head of the bed, her hand idly toying with her mother's right nipple.

After awhile, Diana sat up, pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes and faced Jeff. When she met his eyes, they both suddenly started laughing. "I still need to talk to you," she said, fighting to keep a bout of giggles back, "and I don't think I can stand my brains being fucked out again right now."

"Okay," Jeff sighed melodramatically. "Have you been cheating on me? Is that the reason we just have to talk?" he managed to get out, more or less keeping a straight face.

Diana giggled, "Yeah, I've just been fucking this great looking guy who tried to knock my womb out my throat."

"Well, as long as he's doing a good job, I guess I can let it slide," Jeff added, deadpan.

The Queen smiled at her mate. "Jill needs to marry her husband."

Jeff looked at her and grinned.

"Oh, you know what I mean. She's been talking about it ever since the healer got through with her. Now that Bill is back, she wants to get the new marriage started so she'll be just like Kathy. I talked with Jill briefly yesterday after you guys got home, and she approached me again this morning after breakfast. She said that Bill about fucked Kathy to death last night, and all she (Jill) could do was give him blowjobs or have him fuck her titties. She has vowed she will wait until the wedding night to give him this new hymen that Little One has given her, but she can't wait any longer. We need to have the wedding tonight."

"Tonight?" Jeff asked. "How in the world can you get everything arranged by tonight?"

"I have the caterer on hold. All I have to do is call him."

"On hold? How do you have a caterer on hold?" Jeff laughed.

"It's called money. Besides, he's been here so many times when we've had the other weddings that all I had to do was tell him we tentatively needed him for Saturday night, and we were on. All he has to do is bring the food, anyway. He doesn't actually have to serve anything — we'll do that, as usual. There are enough of us here to decorate the living room in short order. Bill, Kathy and Jill are ready. All we need is your okay."

"Why me? I..."

"You're our Prime, of course," Diana broke in, turning to press her breasts against his chest and kiss him hard.

"So when is it?" Jeff teased.

"Sunset. When else?" his Queen said as she and her daughter locked eyes.

A few moments later, the other wives filed in. Diana was quickly showered, douched and her hair brushed and configured into a long, flowing ponytail.

"Keep Bill busy," Helen called over her shoulder to Jeff as the women hurried out of the bedroom leaving Diana sitting in her husband's lap again; this time as he sat in a chair.

"He doesn't need to see his bride until the wedding," Diana added.

Jeff adjusted her weight to relieve pressure on his balls. "What about a wedding dress?"

"We measured her as soon as you guys left on your trip. She decided to wear cream, but I told her I wore white, and she would too. She just laughed and agreed. The Denver dress shop altered one and got it here just before you came back. It fits Jill like a glove. That woman is built."

"And you're not?" Jeff teased as he toyed with her left breast, then pulled on her nipple.

"What about the new girls?"

"You mean having them take part in the wedding?" Diana asked.

"Well, maybe something?"

Diana shrugged. "I don't think they're ready to participate in much of anything just yet. Arlene got them nice dresses that they'll have a chance to wear. We'll make sure they help set up things and feel like part of what's going on, but I don't want to overdo it with them."

Jeff changed his nipple toying to a gentle milking motion.

"Oh, Jeff, don't start that now," Diana begged as she felt her nipples erect again.

"Just going to drain your milk so you won't be hurting," he said as his mouth descended.

What Diana had neglected to say was the caterer wasn't exactly on hold, but rather on go. She had called and given the order late yesterday. But it didn't hurt to stroke her husband's ego by asking his permission.

-------

Diana, Helen and Laura disappeared in the direction of Bill's suite. Shortly, Bill came walking into the living room looking ... lost.

Arlene, who seemed to be waiting on him, grabbed his arm. "We have to get all this furniture moved. We need an aisle left from the stairway to the front." Waving her hand, "All these need to be moved away from the window. The room needs to look like it did last time. Remember?"

"Uh, yeah. I can handle that."

"Are you going to help him, Dad?"

"Yeah, we've got it," Jeff said, amused. It had sounded like a question, but he knew an order when he heard one. He did pinch her on the ass when she walked past, though.

Shortly, everyone else was bringing in flower arrangements and pedestals. Much like they worked together in the kitchen, the women laughed and cut up with each other as they set up everything, but there were no arguments about that would look better over there, or this would fit better here. Like that infamous well-oiled machine, they worked together with no hesitation, or missteps. Jennie, Melissa and Ann escorted the new girls. There always seemed to be something for the new ones to do, just as there was for the other women, but the girls were guided through the controlled chaos.

-------

The furniture arranged to the satisfaction of the women, Jeff grinned at Bill. "Let's go for a ride."

"Uh, I think I need to hang around here. Jill or Kathy might need me," Bill started, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"They won't," Jeff said with conviction.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but apparently thought better of it.

"The drive needs to be plowed, and it wouldn't hurt to go on down the mountain while we're at it to make sure both county roads are clear so the caterer doesn't have any problem getting up here."

"Shall we get a go-cup," Madison said as they neared the kitchen.

"Nah, we'll get a cup of coffee while we're out."

"Husband can't see his bride on his wedding day, right?" Bill said as he shrugged into his coat. "Doggone it, I slept with that woman last night, and other than the last year when Ingles had her ... uh, doing his thing, we've been together for seventeen years. Hell, she slept draped halfway across me last night. Now all of a sudden I can't see her. Where do women come up with this shit? I..."

Bill's grumbling was cut short as Jeff opened the outer door and a blast of cold wind hit them. Just after going down the steps, they were rocked back with another wind gust. "Good thing Mr. Wainwright isn't going anywhere," Bill yelled into the howling wind. "It would take a fool to come into these mountains in a chopper with gusts like this."

Shortly they had raised one of the doors on the outside garage and were in the pickup. Jeff started the truck and backed out into the snow. Hitting the remote for the garage door, he put the plow down and made a big loop toward the range, then approached the back of the retreat and the entrance to the inside garage. "I don't think we're going anywhere today, but we might as well get this before we start down the drive," he commented.

After the parking lot, they went down the drive, then started on down the mountain. After they reached the Sperman's driveway, the rest of the way down the mountain had been plowed out. From the tracks, it had obviously been Sperman.

They went all the way down, winding up at Martha's Restaurant. "Looks like the early lunch crowd is in full force today," Jeff commented as he finally found a place to park on the back side.

"Crap, Jeff, this place is packed. It's not worth it to just get a cup of coffee."

Jeff grinned at him as they stepped down from the big pickup. "We didn't come here for coffee, my friend. We came to get you out of the way so your wife-to-be doesn't have to be cooped up in her suite all day."

"Shit, I'm nervous as that proverbial long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs," Madison said as they stomped the snow off their shoes before entering the restaurant.

As soon as they were inside, Martha saw them and hurried over. "Matthews, party of two," she said, laughing.

"They just got here," a surly-voiced female said from the line. But the comment was cut off as Martha crashed into Jeff, grabbed him by the neck, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him full on the mouth — hard.

There were chuckles from a big burly man. "Guess he's number one after all."

Martha grinned at the big guy as she turned Jeff loose only to grab Bill, hug him and kiss him on the cheek. "Learned to like grits yet?" she teased.

"Uh, no, but I'm working on it," he lied, having not touched a bowl since his visit to her restaurant the first time.

Grabbing Jeff's hand, she guided them through the throng of people. "This way."

"Look, we don't want to inconvenience you. We're just out riding around..." Madison got out as he tried to follow her through the crowded restaurant, then down a hallway.

"In here," Martha said, opening a door. "This is where I eat. I keep the table open for you guys. No one else eats in here."

As she seated them, she continued, "Where's Mr. Wainwright? His advertising and the chef have done wonders for the place — as you can see. I can now pay my waitresses a decent salary, and their tips are out of this world. Mr. Wainwright's people insisted I increase my prices, so I just backed off and let them do it. The prices are now ridiculous, but I always have lines of people waiting to be served, anyway. I'm paying my bills on time, and I even get a night off every now and then. The chef is superb."

Bill and Jeff looked at each other. Jeff nodded his head slightly. Bill smiled at Martha. "Well, how about that night off tonight. Jill and I are getting married. Well, actually, we're getting married again. We would be honored if you would come."

"Hey that's great news. Hmmm. My chef will be here and I have a full crew scheduled. I don't see why I can't take off. I would be tickled to come. Heck, I even have a new dress. Now what can I get for you guys?"

"Uh, we're just killing time," Jeff began.

"Oh, I had that figured out," she laughed. "Eleven o'clock on the morning of a guy's wedding and he's stopping at a country restaurant. Hah, bet you got thrown out of the retreat."

Jeff chuckled, "Dead on. Got any of that peach cobbler you had last time?"

"Yep. Just came out of the oven."

"Bill?" Jeff said, raising an eyebrow.

"Sounds good."

"Two coffees to go with that," Jeff added.

Martha just waved her hand a little as she went out the door, knowing how much coffee Jeff drank.

Back a few minutes later with three pieces of pie, three cups of coffee and a carafe, she sat with them.

Jeff took a bite, smiled and swallowed. "Damn, that's good." Then, "Did you ever get finalized with the plans for the new restaurant?"

Martha grinned at him. "Getting behind on things there, Lover?" she teased. "Your women not keeping you up to date?"

"Uh, well..."

"Dave brought the architect in and showed him the plans your girls had drawn up with their program. The guy sort of glanced at the plans, then did a double take. After that, he was off in a world of his own for a few minutes. Finally, he demanded to know who did them. When we told him, he at first couldn't believe that teenage girls had made the drawing. When we convinced him, he just looked at Dave and said, 'they're hired.' He was serious, Jeff. As soon as they get out of school, if they want a job, they're hired. I swear the guy was mumbling to himself as he left with the drawing. He was back in a couple of days with the finalized plans. We're just waiting for the weather to break for Dave to get a crew in. The place is going to be beautiful."

Martha sat quiet for a moment, then, "Jeff, you know it's going to take me forever to pay you back for this. Diana won't even tell me how much money she has put into this project, or how much it will wind up costing. If I didn't trust you people, I would be scared to death. Everything is in my name, so there's no way I could lose in this, even if I didn't trust you, but you could lose. Jeff, this is a big gamble. I have no idea how much money all the advertising cost, either. Mr. Wainwright just said his people didn't have enough to do. I wake up in the middle of the night and just ... marvel at what's happened to me. Jeff, I can't thank you enough..."

Jeff put his hand on hers for a moment, then quietly, "Hush. You're our friend. Enough said."

Tears sparkling her eyes, she half-stood and kissed him, peach cobbler and all.

-------

Jeff slowed as he approached Steve and Marcie Sperman's driveway. "Let's stop by here a minute," he said as he turned in.

"These are your nearest neighbors, aren't they?" Bill said as he gazed at the nice house through the trees.

"Yeah, Steve and Marcie. Arlene and I stopped here a few weeks ago. They're the ones who recommended the snowplow and spreader. I just want to say hi and invite them up for supper one night." As Jeff brought the truck to a halt near the house, he grinned at his friend. "I suspect that Steve is going to guess where you're from. Come to think of it, with all the traveling you do, you might be a challenge for him, though."

As Bill put his hand on the door release, he stopped and looked back at Jeff, "Guess where I'm from? How could he do that?"

"The guy is pretty darned good with accents." At Bill's grin, Jeff quickly continued, "Oh, it doesn't take a lot of smarts to hear my southern accent, even though I did think for a while that I had it licked, but he even nailed the state."

Both men got out of the truck and started for the house. "Well, I spent quite a bit of my career on a carrier, subjected to an array of accents, not to say anything about all the traveling I have done for Mr. Wainwright. All that has bound to have had some influence on my speech patterns. He'll have to be pretty darned good to..."

The front door opened and Steve Sperman walked out on the porch to meet them as they climbed the few steps. "Been seeing you going by with that plow, Jeff. How's it doing?" Steve said, offering a firm handshake.

"Just great, Steve — thanks to you. Steve, this is my close friend, Bill Madison. Bill this is Steve Sperman."

After the men shook, Steve hurriedly ushered them in out of the wind.

Inside, as they were being seated, Marcie called from another room, "Who is it, Baby?"

"It's Jeff from up top. He brought a friend with him."

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute."

"I'll come help," Steve said as he got up from his seat.

"No. No. You stay with our guests, I'll make it just fine."

Jeff frowned, concerned. "What's wrong with Marcie?"

"Well, I guess I had better let her tell you that," Steve remarked. "She's a bit..."

"Touchy on the subject," Marcie said, hobbling into the room on a crutch, her right foot in a bright blue walking cast.

"Uh oh," Jeff said as the men stood. "I'll bet there's a story behind that."

Marcie put the crutch against the wall. Then assisted by Steve, hobbled a couple steps to a recliner where he helped her get settled.

"Anyone want coffee or a soft drink?" Steve said, as he stood erect again.

"Any kind of soft drink for me," Jeff accepted just to be friendly.

"Same here," Bill chimed in.

Steve went to the kitchen. "So tell us about it." Jeff said, nodding to Marcie's foot that was now supported by the footrest of the recliner.

"Ah, it's just old age — and my osteoporosis. I think it must be a little worse than we imagined. We went skiing. Had a great time. Later, when we got back in the truck, I noticed my foot was hurting across the arch. It continued for the next couple of days — actually getting worse. I finally gave up and had it x-rayed. I have a hairline crack that the doc said he thought was a stress fracture. Looks like my osteo has put an end to my skiing."

Marcie's voice had gotten a little coarse over the last words and Jeff thought he noticed the sheen of moisture in her eyes, but she quickly went on, "So where's that beautiful daughter of yours today? And when are you going to bring all your other women for a visit?"

"Now, now, now, Baby. That's a little close to getting into someone else's business," Steve said, returning with the drinks on a tray. He handed Marcie her coffee, then offered Jeff and Bill their soft drinks.

When she had said "other women," the thought had crossed Jeff's mind that she might have just misspoken, or had slightly misworded her sentence, but with Steve's comment, Jeff knew that they had noticed. "No, it's fine," he quickly assured them. "I guess it's obvious that something is going on. We probably look like a parade."

"Actually, we heard some people in a restaurant in Winter Park talking about the 'rich man' who lives in the hotel on the mountain with all those women," Steve said. "We mean no offense."

Jeff carefully studied the couple for a moment. While his ability to sense a lie was not as developed as that of Sheriff Tate, or Fred, he was almost positive that Steve and Marcie were sincerely friendly to him. They also didn't seem to have an ulterior motive in bringing the subject up, nor did they seem to have any negative thoughts about his relationship with the women. The two families had accidentally met a couple of times while shopping in Winter Park, and Jeff's wives were sometimes not very concerned about being totally circumspect in public. And even if they were, so many beautiful women with only one man tended to make people wonder.

There was an uncomfortable silence, then everyone started to speak at the same time. Jeff held his hand up a little as they all laughed. He felt Little One stir in his mind. {{{ I cannot understand their thoughts, but they project only good will. }}}

Thank you.

Jeff glanced meaningfully at Bill, but was unable to ask what he wanted to because of Steve and Marcie being present. Hoping Bill would not mind, Jeff looked again at his hosts, his expression changing. "Since you have mentioned my women..." Steve started to apologize again, but Jeff motioned and quickly went on, "we are having something tonight at the retreat — well actually at sunset — and would like to invite you to join us — with Bill's permission of course."

Bill grinned and nodded to Jeff. When Jeff just waited, Bill cleared his throat, a slight flush creeping up his face. "Uh, my wife and I are getting, uh, remarried tonight."

"Oh, you're reaffirming your vows," Marcie broke in. "That's so sweet."

Bill shifted uncomfortably, but with Jeff's nod, continued. "Well, no. We're involved in a divorce. This is a new marriage — and it's complicated. And ... it's not recorded, or recognized by the state. And Jill will be my... second wife."

Bill waited, expecting the worse.

Steve and Marcie looked at each other, then Marcie turned to Bill with a smirk on her face, "I'll bet there's a story behind that," she grinned, mimicking Jeff's earlier comment.

Bill chuckled, then quickly stopped. "A tragic story, but everything is fine now."

Jeff took over. "You're invited to come and be part of our rejoicing, I guess you could say, provided ... that this goes no further. We aren't breaking any laws, but the marriage vows that will be exchanged are just as binding between us as any made under civil law."

"Uh, we would be very pleased to come," Marcie said.

"Marcie, Steve, we're not a cult or anything of that nature. If this is a shock to you, I guarantee you that I'm more shocked than you. A year ago, I would never, never in my wildest dreams, have thought about having more than one wife. But we really want you to come, and oh, yeah, please come prepared to stay the night. I don't think there is any snow forecast for tonight, and you obviously have a plow, anyway, but no use your getting back out in the dark with that foot. Too easy to step on an icy spot and hurt yourself again. Heck, for all practical purposes, we live in a hotel, anyway. And come around to the back and park close to the door so you won't have as far to walk with that foot. We'll have a wheelchair waiting in the mud room."

"I don't need a wheelchair. I can walk, just not very fast."

"Those are long hallways, M'Lady," Jeff teased. "There will be a reception after the wedding. Oh, just leave your truck unlocked. Someone will get your bags and put them in a suite for you."

"But we don't have to stay the night," Steve spoke up. "We only live a mile away."

"Diana has been after me to get you two up for the night. Now's our chance. Bill and his wives will be in the honeymoon suite as soon as they can get away from the reception," Jeff said, grinning at his fellow Alpha. "It will be a great time for you to get to know my wives. And speaking of time, you should probably plan to be there around six. We'll start when the sun touches the mountains in the distance."

They continued their conversation for a few minutes with the older couple becoming more enthusiastic about the coming event. Jeff and Bill finished their drinks, thanked their hosts and started out the door. "Washington State. Around Seattle is my best guess," Steve said to Bill.

Bill turned back around to stare at Steve, a look of incredulity on his face.

"I thought you came from Saint Louis," Jeff said.

"No," Bill absently said. "We've lived there for years, but I was born in Seattle. I left when I was eighteen. How in the world did you..."

Steve and Marcie were laughing. "We'll see you at six," Steve said as he closed the door.

"Well ... shit," Bill said as they turned for the stairs. "How can he do that?"

"You've got me, Partner. He darn sure nailed my ass, but it looks like it took him a little longer with you."

In the truck as Jeff backed up and turned around, "I hope you didn't mind my inviting them."

"I don't mind, but I wonder about outsiders knowing about..."

"I had an ulterior motive," Jeff broke in.

"I thought that might be it," Bill said as they turned onto the county road and started uphill. "You're going to do to them what you've done to the rest of us, aren't you? Their osteoporosis — you're going to heal them?"

"I can't not do it. I just can't."



-------

Chapter 43

Jeff and Diana had taken the opportunity for a few minutes of cuddle time in one of the sitting rooms down the hall from the honeymoon suite. Diana sat in his lap as she did every chance she got. They kissed, then she laid her head on his shoulder.

Jeff smiled down at her. "So Bill and Jill are going to use the honeymoon suite this time? Why not the suite they have been using? There's not a dime's worth of difference in them."

Diana snuggled a little closer, if possible, "Yeah, I know, but that's what they decided. Well, that's what Kathy and Jill decided," she corrected with a snigger.

"Bill doesn't give a crap what goes on as long as he gets his wife back, but it was interesting to watch the guy get all upset on his wedding day. Particularly, since he has been married to that woman for years. Of course I guess it was interesting to see him so uptight because that's exactly the way I feel every time I go through a marriage ceremony — well if it's my ceremony," he laughed.

"You have been through it more times than most men. Looks like it would be old-hat by now."

"Yeah, well, I admit some were worse ... uh, more upsetting than others. I love all of you all equally, but each has a special place in my heart."

Diana squeezed him. "Oooh, nicely said. Just remember where that special place of mine is, though."

He kissed the top of her head, "You're my Queen."

"Talking about Bill not caring as long as he gets his wife back, you can multiply that by ten and you would still be short about how Jill feels about getting her husband back. But no matter what we say to her, she still feels guilty. Ingles' drugs and hypnotism don't matter. She alternates from ecstatic at getting away from Ingles and finding Bill again, to depression about having 'betrayed' him. And that reminds me, I'm sure that Kathy has told him, but you need to also..."

"Tell him what, Baby?"

"Oh, I guess it sounds stupid, but I'm afraid that Jill will hurt herself tonight."

"Hurt herself?" Jeff said with a grin. "Well, I guess I have seen Kathy walking a bit funny from time to time, but even if Bill has, uh, grown some since Little One enhanced him, I doubt that he will..."

"That's not what I mean," Diana interrupted as she sat up in his lap so she could look him directly in the eyes. "Remember, Little One didn't just replace Jill's hymen, she made everything down there new. It's not repaired; it's new. That part of her has never known a man."

"Yeah, I know, Baby, but come on, they've been married for at least seventeen years. Linda is sixteen."

Diana absently straightened his collar. "Kathy says that Jill is frantic to give herself to her husband, but of course, wouldn't because she wanted to have a new marriage and start over first. You need to caution Bill, anyway. Some of your wives were quite upset as they prepared for their own wedding, but Jill has already thrown up. I'm afraid she's going to work herself into really being sick before we can get her married. Heck, Kathy is practically a basket case from Jill being so uptight. And Jill is almost ... obsessed with giving herself to Bill to try and make up for the way she treated him during the last year. That part of her isn't up to what she has planned for her husband."

"So, do I need to get Little One to check her out because she threw up? Jill surely isn't going to be asleep, and I can't let her see the Healer."

Diana hugged him and put her head back on his shoulder. "I know you can't do that, but it surely would solve a lot of problems right now. Maybe you just need to talk to Bill and have him prepared for an ... uh, over exuberant new wife tonight. I'm afraid she'll really mess herself up and he won't realize what she's doing to herself. Oh, I know that Jill has her Queen to calm her down, but Kathy is just beginning to become a Queen. And they haven't developed our ... empathy with each other like my sister-wives and I have, but I can tell it is starting with them, though."

"I think that what you and my other wives have is a bit more than empathy."

Diana giggled, "Yeah, I guess you're right, but I don't have a word for it. I don't know what they're thinking ... exactly."

"But any of you can deliberately say the same thing at the same time. When you are working together and one needs something, another hands it to them instantly. And I suspect that my description is just scratching the surface — right?"

"I feel like they're part of me," Diana said into his shoulder, "and even that is far from being descriptive enough. When we're making love and touching, we all ... become one."

"So do you think that Kathy and Jill will ever be that way?"

"Well, Evie says that she, Kim and Linda are beginning to 'feel' each other a little when they orgasm, so it seems like they're progressing in that direction. They're beginning to work well with us in the kitchen. I can, uh, 'feel' Evie almost as strongly as I do my sister-wives, but I'm only vaguely aware of Kim and Linda."

"I wonder how Fred's women are coming along? Has Carla said anything?"

"Only peripherally. She's told me about Fred's dead wife..."

"That's beyond weird," Jeff interrupted. "But Fred kept saying from the beginning that it was almost as if she were real. Crap, if a dead person in your mind can be real," he chuckled.

"Well, anyway, I told you about Brenda somehow reflecting their orgasms back and forth until they all pass out from overload. They can't hear each other, but they can all hear Brenda if they're touching Fred. I'll have to specifically ask if they can feel each other as we do."

"And Margaret?"

"We can work well with her, but she hasn't become a Queen yet. I'm pretty sure she's been thinking about getting Frank another woman though. But first, we have to get Frank and Margaret married."

"So, talk them into getting it done tonight," Jeff threw out just to see her reaction.

Diana laughed. "Margaret would shit. They know too many people that they absolutely have to invite to their wedding. Margaret is working on it, and we've helped her some. She has considered turning the whole thing over to a wedding planner, but that would bring an outsider into close contact with things they have no business knowing. She's opting for a simple ceremony here at the retreat and inviting fifty or so people. But then we're back to the winter logistics thing."

"Well, I'm glad all us men have to do is just wait for the pussy on our wedding night," he teased.

"Margaret is going to be some high-priced 'pussy' by the time they pay to bring all those people out here," Diana giggled.

"Pocket change for Frank," Jeff laughed.

"I need to go," Diana said as she took time to kiss him before standing. "Your clothes are laid out on the bed. Wouldn't hurt for you to go ahead and get dressed so you can be with Bill. And Jeff," she said as he started to walk off, "tell Bill what I said about Jill. I have a feeling that he is going to have to take some strong measures with her before the night is over. She has it in her mind to try and 'make it up' to him for the way she treated him while under Ingles' control."

"I'll pass it on. Bill will take care of it."

"I hope so."

-------

Everyone was ready, all faces turned expectantly as they waited for Jill's entrance. As the sun touched the mountains in the distance, Marcie and Steve sat in the audience watching Jill come regally down the wide stairway into the living room. Jill's eyes were focused on Bill as he stood ramrod straight in his Navy uniform by the huge window waiting for her. Once again, Frank Wainwright was tapped to give the bride away. The ceremony, led by Diana and Jeff, went without the slightest bobble — as usual.

Later, Steve and Marcie had a moment during the reception as they stood to the side, "She's young," Steve quietly commented as he looked at the bride.

"That's her daughter there," Marcie answered, nodding her head discretely.

"Daughter? She can't have a daughter, at least not a teenage daughter. She and that girl look the same age, but there is a striking family resemblance."

"Yeah, as in they're both beautiful," Marcie laughed, "but Jill is Linda's mother. Diana didn't give me any details, but she said Jill and Bill were getting remarried after Jill had been kidnapped and abused by someone in North Dakota. I guess you realize the other young woman there is Bill's other wife, don't you?"

"Yeah, I had that figured out."

"Mr. Henson there, has three wives. We've met Evie, Linda and Kim. Linda is Bill's daughter."

"They weren't divided into family groups when we came in. How did you figure who went where?" Steve asked.

"Diana told me."

"So how many of them belong to Jeff?"

"Nine."

"Great day in the morning. We've seen them with him, but I never considered..."

Marcie squeezed his arm. "Don't even think about it, Buster. You have one wife and it's going to stay that way."

"Here, we need to get you seated," Jennie said as she came up. "Where's your wheelchair?"

"Honey, I'm doing just fine with this crutch. Besides, I've been sitting down since we got here."

"Here it is," Melissa said as she came hurrying in with the wheelchair.

"Park it, Baby," Marcie said. "I'll ride back up that long hallway in the morning when we leave, but I can sit over there in that real chair for now," she finished, pointing.

"Are you sure," Melissa asked, frowning. "You look uncomfortable."

"Well it is a little uncomfortable, but if I take those pain tablets the doctor prescribed, my head feels all fuzzy. Besides," she laughed, "this way I can gripe about it hurting."

"Oh, that's the first time you have even mentioned it hurting," Jennie said. "Now let's get you seated."

Shortly Steve and Marcie were sitting with cake in front of them. "That's a Navy uniform isn't it?" Marcie asked Steve as she nodded in Bill's direction.

"Yeah, and those are some serious medals hanging on it, too. Man has been in some shit; you can bet on that."

"So he's in the Navy. I thought he flew a plane for Mr. Wainwright."

"He does. He's retired from the Navy, though." Steve stopped for a second, then continued, "Well maybe not retired, he looks too young for that, but out of it, anyway. I think he's allowed to wear his dress uniform at special occasions. Jeff said that Jill wanted him to wear it for the wedding."

Marcie waited to swallow, then took a sip of punch. "What are those medals for?"

"I heard one of the girls ask that. Bill just laughed at her and said they were for decoration."

"Decoration? Even I know better than that."

Steve looked in Bill's direction for a moment. "He's obviously not a braggart. He's damn sure got bragging rights hanging on his chest, though, but he won't say anything. From a comment I heard Jeff make, Bill probably can't talk about how he got them. He seemed embarrassed when Jeff's wife asked him about them."

Marcie nodded to the newlyweds as they fed each other cake. "That woman is gorgeous. She looks like one of those women in one of your Playboy magazines. Did you get a hard-on when she hugged you?"

"Marcie,  that's vulgar — disrespectful to her..."

"Did you?"

"No ... but I had to fight it."

"So, I'm going to get some tonight?"

"Baby, we might hurt your foot."

"Hah. With all these pretty women to get you stirred up, no way am I passing up an opportunity like this."

Chuckling, he grinned at his wife. "Well, maybe. Well, maybe."

-------

Kathy stood holding the door open to the honeymoon suite as Bill waved to the others and picked up his wife. Once inside, Kathy closed the door as Bill set Jill on her feet.

"We're married; married again," Jill whispered as she looked up into his eyes. "I promise you, Bill Madison, that I'll die before I let another man have me again."

Bill put both hands gently on the sides of her face. "You didn't 'let' Ingles have you. He drugged and hypnotized you. You did nothing wrong. Now this is our wedding night. To risk being cliché, this is the beginning of the rest of our lives. Why don't we have a glass of that wine sitting there on ice? Neither of us drink, basically, unless a couple beers a year count," he grinned. "But I'm absolutely not flying until sometime Monday. So..."

Kathy was already handing them glasses. Shortly, they were seated on the couch with Jill tucked under Bill's right arm, and Kathy sitting close on his other side. Jill had taken a couple sips of her wine, but then put the glass on the coffee table in front of them — a total waste of Frank's expensive wine. She snuggled back against her husband.

"Jill, are you sure about this? It's your night. He's going to make you ... a woman for the second time. You asked me to be here, but..."

"Yeah, he's going to make me a woman for the second time," Jill giggled. "And I'm absolutely sure I want you with us. I hope it hurts more this time than it did the other time."

Bill tensed up. "Baby, I don't like the sound of that. I hope it doesn't hurt you at all. And I'm going to do everything I can to try to be gentle with that new pussy of yours," he smiled.

Jill squeezed his hand, but didn't say anything more about it. A look passed between Kathy and Bill which communicated their worries.

-------

Bill put Jill on her feet by the bed, then kissed her. Kathy reached for the zipper on the back of Jill's dress, but Jill reached back to touch her sister-wife's hand. "No. I want my husband to make love to me with my wedding dress on."

Bill took her in his arms and hugged her for a moment. "We've all seen your new hymen when you discovered it in the bathroom that morning. We might get blood on this beautiful white dress. You know we'll darn sure get some come on it."

"I'll put the dress in a clear bag in my closet so I can always see the stain. You can easily get to my breasts with this plunging neckline, and we can push the skirt up enough to get it mostly out of the way. I want you to take me in my wedding dress."

Bill kissed her, then picked her up and placed her carefully on the bed. Taking her shoes off but leaving her hose on, he kissed her toes while she giggled.

"Here beside me, Kathy," Jill said as she patted the bed. "You let me sleep with you two and watch as you made love to your husband. You even let me give him blowjobs and nurse my breasts. Diana says this marriage makes us a family, and I believe her. We'll always be together with him. So please help me make love to my, uh, our husband."

Kathy quickly stripped off her own dress and carefully placed it over a chair back. With her heels sitting beside the bed, she lay down near Jill, still wearing her panties and hose. She had not needed nor worn a bra.

Bill stood back as he removed his jacket and also laid it across a chair. Slipping his shoes off, and automatically undressing, he gazed at the two women on the bed. Jill had pushed the neckline of her dress aside, freeing her breasts. Jill's breasts were more round and almost twice the size of Kathy's. Both women's breasts stood up proudly, though. One of my wives is pretty, the other gorgeous. Their beauty is different, yet Kathy's pretty is just as appealing as Jill's gorgeous. How in the heck did Jeff get me into this? Hell, if he weren't a man, I would kiss him. He saved Jill's life, and whatever he did made her look the way she did when we were first married so many years ago. Then he let me kill the son-of-a-bitch that took her from me.

Down to his undershorts, he got a giggle out of both women as he pushed the shorts down and his dick popped out to slap against his belly. Both of them spent half the night last night playing with my dick, now both of them are looking at it as if they had never seen it,  he thought.

"Bill, it's even bigger than it used to be," Jill quietly said.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Bill kidded, but he knew she was right.

"Come on, Baby. You gave me two blowjobs last night. You know just exactly how big — or little — it is..."

"Yeah, but it's going in her pussy this time," Kathy said.

Bill just chuckled. "Jill, Baby, it went in you just fine all those years ago when you were a virgin, it will do the same tonight."

After kissing his new wife for a while, he gradually made his way to those stupendous breasts of hers. If anything, they stand up more than they did when she was eighteen.

"Kiss Kathy," Jill said a few minutes later as she gently pulled his head away from her breasts.

"Jill, it's your night. I'm just here to help, if I can."

Jill grinned at her sister-wife. "It's our night. Now kiss our husband."

Kathy, with a sparkling of tears in her eyes, did — hungrily.

"That's better," Jill said as the two broke the kiss. Pushing her rear up off the bed a little, "Now help me get the skirt of this beautiful dress up far enough so our husband can take me."

By the time they had removed Jill's panties and had the dress arranged to Jill's satisfaction, she was almost panting. "Take me, Husband. Make the memory of that bastard go away."

Bill knelt between her legs, then stretched out so he would be comfortable with his mouth at her pussy.

"No,  my darling husband. We can do that some other time. I don't need that. I couldn't be any hotter. I'm ready. Just take me. Slam your cock in me and take my hymen that Jeff has somehow given me."

With Jill trying to tug on his head to pull him up, he ignored her and put his mouth against her nether lips, gently blowing. Jill shivered. "Please, Honey, just..."

Bill licked between her outer lips, then a second later, across her clit. Even though she had given him blowjobs and he had nursed her breasts, she had not let him go near her pussy since the Healer had done her thing. The touch to her clit was electric. Her body arched of its own will, a shudder passing through her.

"Oh, Bill," she managed, faintly.

He put both hands under her tight little ass and lifted her pussy to his face. A few more slow licks up her slit and across her clit, and her first orgasm hit. She gasped and shuddered through the orgasm, then the next one that came shortly after. "Bill, I..."

He worked his tongue into her tight hole and managed to touch her hymen. She slammed her pussy against his face hard enough that he wondered if his stinging lip meant he was bleeding. Uncaring if he was, he set out to tongue fuck her pussy.

He heard giggling from Kathy until Jill slammed her knees against the side of his head, jarring him and cutting off much of his hearing. He could still hear enough of her warbling scream to know the last orgasm was an even bigger one, if possible.

Twenty minutes later, Jill felt as if she were little more than a quivering bowl of jelly. "Thanks," she mumbled to Kathy as she handed the empty water glass back.

Kathy took a damp cloth and wiped off the sweat and the small amount of makeup that Jill had been wearing.

"I wanted you to take me," Jill admonished her husband.

"I did," Bill grinned, "just not the way you envisioned."

"How long was I out?"

"Which time?" Kathy laughed.

Jill tried to glare at her, but broke out in giggles, instead. "He's better than he was the first time."

After giving Jill time to recover, Bill slid up her body to again nurse her breasts for a time, then kiss her deeply. Panting, she broke the kiss to order, "Take me. Bill, do it. I want you to take me hard. Don't make love to me; you've done that already. Just fuck me."

"Baby, you know I'm not going to do that — not on our wedding night. We can fun-fuck anytime..."

"Baby, fuck me. Ram in me hard. Hurt me; punish me for what I did with Ingles."

Bill had been taking most of his weight on his forearms, his face close to hers. He pushed back a little to stare at her. "Baby, we've been over this a number of times already. You didn't do anything wrong..."

"I went to that bastard. I did unspeakable things with him. I even talked dirty — terribly dirty — to him on the phone. He got off on that ... and on other things. He fucked me ... in my ass, and I humped myself back at him. Oh, Bill, I did everything. I need to be punished. He would tell me to do things, and I did them. A part of my mind was screaming, but my body did just what he said. Bill, I had orgasms. I betrayed you..."

As Bill glanced at Kathy when she moved, she whispered, "I was afraid of this."

Bill tried to think of something to say as he watched Jill's eyes fill with tears. "Look, Baby, all you did was go for an exam. You've told us you don't remember anything about the visit other than entering his office. That's obviously when he drugged you for the first time. You've told us over and over how he gave you instructions about how to pick arguments with me in the beginning. How he stepped up the assault on our marriage. You even knew that he wanted me to divorce you, but then when I wouldn't go that route, how he set things up for you to divorce me."

"But I knew what his plans were. He told me what I was supposed to do, and I did it. I did it. I could have stopped it. I know I could have, but I just watched myself doing the things he ordered me to. I couldn't stop," she wailed. "Punish me, Bill. Punish me for being a slut with him, for doing all those terrible things to you and our marriage."

Bill rolled off to the side and pulled Jill to him, wrapping his arms about her. Kathy snuggled to Jill's back, holding her and whispering in her ear.

Bill caught Kathy's eye. "Why don't you get us a small glass of wine?"

"Good idea," Kathy said, getting up, her breasts swaying nicely. Bill looked back at Jill only to realize that she had seen him eyeing Kathy.

"You really love her, don't you?" Jill said as she touched her husband's face.

"Yeah. Does it bother you much?"

"I don't know what I would do without her," Jill quietly answered. "I just feel so guilty about fucking Ingles."

Kathy was back with three glasses of wine on a tray in time to hear, "I need to be punished. I need to be. And don't start again about the drugs and hypnosis. I know what happened, and yeah, I guess I know I really couldn't do anything about it, but ... Look when I was a small kid, if I did something wrong, my mom would spank me. My dad did a few times, but my mom mostly did it. When I misbehaved, I got spanked, and then it was over. But when I got a little older, the spankings ended. Instead, I was made to sit down and my parents discussed my bad behavior with me. They told me how ashamed I had made them. I hated those times, because ... well, the talk just went on and on, even after it was over. It was still there with me in my memories. The punishment lasted forever. The spankings were done and I was forgiven — had paid my due — when the last lick was delivered."

Jill slid up in the bed so she could accept the wine that Kathy offered. Bill sat cross-legged. Kathy put the tray down and sat near Jill, taking her free hand.

Jill gulped half her wine, then looked at her husband. "Diana and I have spent some time together while you were gone to ... kill that bastard. Diana is the smartest woman I have ever been around." She squeezed Kathy's hand, "Oh, don't get mad at me Kathy. I know you're smart as can be, but what I'm talking about can't be very easily put into words. They tell me that Helen is a genius, but Diana is smarter. She was the one who got me to talking about how Mom and Dad disciplined me. With only a few comments, she showed me how to get over some of the guilt, and she didn't charge five hundred dollars an hour, either. I need to be punished Bill, just like my parents punished me when I was little. Punished so I can put this behind me. Punished so I can pay for my transgressions ... I know; I know," she said as she reached forward to touch her lips to Bill's before he could give her another lecture about it not being her fault. "I don't need a logical discussion right now. I need to pay up for what I did wrong — what I feel was wrong — and go on with my life."

Jill drank the rest of the wine and leaned over to put her glass beside the bed. When she straightened back up, "Get your belt off your pants. Twenty hard licks should do for tonight. I know that's not enough, but we can add to it as my ass recovers."

"Jill, I am not going to..."

"All right," she interrupted, "then use your hand tonight. We can use the belt later."

"This is crazy," Bill started.

"No it isn't," Kathy interjected. "We both know she didn't do anything wrong, but I can understand why she feels guilty. It must have been horrible to do those things and not be able to stop herself, but ... there would be guilt. Then you take her back, and even make her well, not to mention looking like she did when you first got married. I don't want my sister-wife whipped, Baby, but I can understand how she feels. You have to do it."

"Jeff did more than I did," he tried to deny.

"Do what she needs, Bill," Kathy interjected. "Do it so we can get on with Jill's wedding night."



-------

Chapter 44


Bill had very tentatively lain Jill across his knees as he sat on the side of the bed. Kathy made sure Jill's wedding dress was pulled up above her bare buttocks. Bill swatted her ass a couple of times, not wanting to hurt her. There was a disgusted sound from Jill. Bending around, she bit Bills' thigh — bit him long and hard.

Bill yelled out, "Shit," his temper flaring. Flipping his left leg out from under her, then back over her back, locking her in place over his right leg, he cursed, then, "What the hell did you do that for?"

"I've spanked our daughter harder than that when she was four. Now punish me for what I did, so I can give you my cherry."

I don't fucking understand women, Bill thought as Kathy sat holding her hand over her mouth trying to suppress the laughter. His thigh was burning like fire and it felt wet. He wasn't sure whether the wet was his blood or her saliva. Either way, he knew there would be one heck of a bruise. Pissed, he swung his hand a lot harder than the fairly gentle licks he had already applied. Crack! He had cupped his hand a little to make the sound louder so she would really think she was being beaten to death. The sound of his hand hitting her ass was startling in the stillness of the suite. Jill stiffened and hissed in a breath.

He didn't know where it came from, but he heard himself saying, "Count aloud and thank me for each lick. If you don't, then the lick doesn't count. And address me as Sir when you do it."

There was a hesitation, then, "One," Jill hissed out while wiggling her butt to try and get away from the stinging that hurt worse than she expected. "Thank you, Sir."

"Crack."

"Awwyyooooo." A couple of deep breaths, then, "Two. Thank you, Sir."

There were now two bright-red hand prints, one on each ass cheek. Kathy, who was kneeling nearby, looked up at Bill, her eyes wide.

Bill stopped at five, Jill's ass already bright red. "Now, I think that'll be enough."

Jill took a deep breath, fighting back tears, "What's the matter, Wimp? Are you too much of a wimp to discipline a slut?"

Bill knew what she was doing; the years of marriage had taught her how to push his buttons. "Jill..."

"Ingles knew how to whip my ass," she interrupted, pushing him mentally. "He knew how to fuck me, too. An Alpha can't do any better than wimp out at five? Hell, you're probably thinking about gently taking my hymen, aren't you, Wimp?"

-------

Bill had to force himself to stop at twenty. Jill's ass was flaming red and her sobs were deep as she gasped for breath.

By the time he helped his new wife stretch out on the bed, Kathy was back with a tube of cream that she began gently rubbing into Jill's skin. Bill lay beside her, holding her and dabbing at her tears with a tissue, his face tear-streaked as well, ashamed that he had let her get his temper involved. Kathy put a small towel across Jill's butt, then put two ice packs on to help numb the area.

Kathy snuggled beside Jill and whispered in her ear for a time.

Bill started, "Jill, I..."

Kathy, realizing what Bill was going to do, grabbed him by the ear as she sat up, dragging him up with her. Quickly putting her mouth close to the ear that Bill was now rubbing, she whispered, "Don't you dare fuck this up after she has gone through all that pain. You tell her everything will be all right, that she's forgiven, but you do not apologize to her." Kathy's eyes were blazing as she glared at her husband.

Numbly, he nodded his head. Lying back beside Jill, he tried to calm himself, "It's going to be okay, Baby. Everything is fine now. We'll get on with the rest of our wedding night when you've recovered."

"O ... kay," Jill said as a hiccup interrupted her. Although there were tears still running down her cheeks, Bill could see a tentative smile starting.

He glanced in the direction of the sitting room, then looked at Kathy. "Half," he quietly said. Kathy was back shortly with a half glass of wine.

"Here, my sister-wife, drink this. You need it now."

When Jill tried to turn onto her back, she flinched, then pushed herself up a little, still keeping most of her weight on the side of her left hip. Kathy helped Jill sit that way as she quickly drank the wine.

Kathy took the empty glass back and put it on the bedside table. "Maybe that will help a little with some of the pain."

Jill lay back on her stomach and Kathy readjusted the ice packs. In moments, exhausted from the harsh spanking, Jill's body relaxed, her breathing slowing and deepening as she drifted off to sleep.

The two sat looking at Jill for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Kathy suddenly realized that she needed to do something. Touching Bill on the shoulder to get his attention, she motioned with her head toward the sitting room.

A little later as Bill paced nude, "Want some more wine?" Kathy asked.

"No," came the bland answer.

Kathy got a coke, two glasses and ice. Splitting the drink between them, she handed Bill his glass. "Baby, she's a different woman than the one you were married to in Saint Louis."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We're all different. Everything we do changes us to some extent. She's been through Hell..." Bill replied, much of his thought processes elsewhere.

"Was she ever submissive before?" Kathy broke in.

"What? No. Of course not," he said, wondering what Kathy was talking about.

Kathy, sitting on the couch, looked up at the pacing man. "I think she was, at least to some extent. I've been reading about hypnosis. Some of us are a lot more responsive to it than others are. Stage hypnotists get really good at picking people who are easily subjected to hypnosis. Some people can't be hypnotized, though, at least unless drugs are used. I think all this being ordered around by Ingles has reinforced Jill's submissive streak."

"So, you've become a psychoanalyst now?" The sarcasm was obvious.

"Bill!"

He stopped his pacing long enough to almost snarl, "Well, she wasn't particularly submissive in there. We both know she orchestrated that whipping. She bit the living shit out of me," he said, pointing to the teeth marks on his thigh. Then she said the things she knew would piss me off. "I feel like a fucking fool..."

"Just because she knows how to push your buttons doesn't mean she hasn't changed, or that her submissive streak isn't a lot more to the fore than it once was. I'm her Queen. I can feel it, Bill."

"'Feel it?' Feel what? Feel her submissive streak, or feel that you're a Queen?"

"Both. I know you don't understand that, but I can actually feel her, at least to some little extent. And yeah, I can feel that I'm a Queen, also. Or at least becoming one. But why am I the Queen? Why isn't the senior wife the Queen? She's been married to you for a lot of years; why then is the new woman to the marriage to become the Queen? Is it because of her submissive tendencies?"

Bill thought a moment. "I'm not certain about this Queen thing..."

"You don't have to be," Kathy said a little louder than she meant to, "but I am certain. I can feel it just as you can feel that cock of yours swinging between your legs," she finished, nodding at his still swollen, but not erect penis. "Being a Queen isn't something to take lightly, Bill Madison. I am responsible for my sister-wife and for my mate. What you just did in there hurt me to my soul, but it had to be done." There was a moment's hesitation, then, "Diana read Jill from almost the beginning."

Bill flopped down on the couch beside Kathy. "I love Diana to death, but I'm beginning to think that she might just be meddling a bit by suggesting..."

"She is not meddling, Bill. She had tears in her eyes when we discussed how Jill felt. Us talking to her, assuring her that everything was all right, was just making it worse. She had to pay for what her subconscious was telling her was a wrong against her husband and child. She's paid her price now, and it was a big one. Her ass is going to be a solid bruise in the morning. It will be sore and hurting for days, but she will feel forgiven. I'm almost positive of that. Of course, she had to manipulate you into the proper mood, but I think it was worth it."

"Well, it's certainly spoiled her wedding night."

Kathy took a sip of her drink as she tried to hide the smirk. "Now why would you say that?"

"'Say that, ' hell. She can't even lie on her back. How in the hell am I supposed to make love to her? Shit, it will probably be days before we can do it."

"She doesn't want you to make love to her, my Husband; she wants you to take her — to fuck her like the slut she feels she is — or was. She wants you to take her back from Ingles."

"She's not a slut." Bill growled out. "I was the only man she ever had until that Ingles bastard did that to her."

"She wants to be treated as a slut — your slut. At least for tonight. She told you that. Weren't you listening? If she had been any more direct, she would have had to use a sledgehammer."

"I don't understand women," Bill mumbled, then paused to gulp his drink. "I don't fucking understand women," he said louder.

Kathy laughed at him, "Good. That's the way it should be. Now listen up. She and I have talked about this. You can make love to her when her ass heals, but tonight she's expecting you to take her..."

-------

Thirty minutes later, they walked back into the bedroom where Jill was still lying on her belly. Her eyes opened as they neared the bed, but she said nothing.

"How's your ass?" Bill gruffly asked.

"Hurts," Jill answered.

Bill stopped and cleared his throat. Kathy pinched him. "Ready to lose that cherry?" Kathy pinched him harder. Bill cleared his throat again. His voice deeper, he barked, "Get on the side of the bed with your ass in the air. Time you gave your husband that cherry you've been protecting."

Jill didn't move. Bill could feel Kathy's hand already sliding to his side where the pinch would hurt more. He brushed her hand aside, then grabbed Jill's leg and jerked. Jill squeaked.

"Get your tits out and that new pussy in the air before I add to the red on your ass."

"Yes, Sir," Jill whispered as she scooted to the side of the bed. Kathy helped position her skirt as Jill made sure the neckline exposed her breasts. Bill reached around her and milked her nipples, pulling harder than he usually did. Then regardless of what Kathy wanted, he knelt and kissed Jill's new pussy, licking her for several minutes. Jill remained still, barely responding to him, though.

He didn't like this; hadn't envisioned his second wedding night with Jill to be like this, but in for a penny in for a pound. "Drop your belly. Arch your back. Present that pussy to me," he barked as he stood.

Jill instantly dropped her belly so her pussy was pushed up as high as she could manage. Bill positioned himself at her entrance, wiping his cock back and forth in her juices until the head was as wet as it could be. Without preamble, he pushed the head just past the tight ring of her lips and stopped. Jill took a ragged breath. Pushing gently forward another half inch, the head of his cock kissed her hymen. Jill trembled. The first time he had done this, he had licked her until she was practically in a stupor, then over minutes, gradually worked his way past her disintegrating hymen until he was inside her. But not this time.

Taking a breath, he said, "You ready for a real man?"

"If there's one around," Jill snapped, finally pushing his last button.

He gritted his teeth and buried his cock to her womb with one harsh thrust, destroying her hymen, violently expanding her new tunnel and jarring her womb. Jill screamed and thrashed, trying to pull away, her breasts swaying and bouncing as she tried to get away from the pain. His strong hands locked her ass to him, though. "It's okay, Baby. You're mine now — only mine. Nobody will ever get to you again."

Jill whimpered, most of the pain turning into a rutting desire that swept through her as her husband resumed his rights; took her. This was the way it should be. Ingles didn't own her anymore, but her virile man with his big cock buried in her, did. Her husband, the man she had loved for a large portion of her life, had now possessed her again. She ground her ass back against him as her orgasm thundered through her. Bill concentrated as he initiated the mental push that Jeff had tried to teach him. He didn't know whether he accomplished it or not, but he guessed he must have released some pheromones because he heard Kathy gasp and make a sound that was almost a purr. Jill trembled.

This was the first orgasm with her husband's cock inside her in such a long time. The desire to be his was suddenly almost overwhelming. Her whimper turned into a scream. Bill continued to hold her ass in a steel grip, grinding his cock against her cervix, occasionally pulling back a little, then rapidly slamming against her womb. Jill bucked hard, trembled almost violently again, her orgasm that had never quite gone away, now reaching new heights. In the midst of it, she fainted. As she slumped, Bill held in her for a while then started to pull his cock out. Kathy grabbed him. "Come in her. She needs to wake up with her man's seed in her."

"I can't fuck her. She's unconscious for goodness sake..."

"Damnit, Bill, you've gone this far, now get it done."

Bill hated to admit it, but what he had just done had excited him, particularly when Jill had come twice in a matter of a minute or two. He held her limp hips and stroked hard into her almost impossibly-tight vagina. Soon, his prostate cramped and the first gush of semen pumped through his cock. His dick jerked half a dozen times as long ropes of sperm splashed against Jill's womb, his groan loud and long. The strength seemed to drain from him as his spurts changed to a dribble. He held himself jammed against her womb until his cock deflated and eventually slipped out of her pussy. Collapsing beside his wife, he threw his arm around her as he fought to catch his breath. Her ass was still humped up a little, her pussy drooling thick come as she slept with a smile on her face.

Before his breathing reached anything near normal, he felt the warmth of Kathy's mouth on his cock. He raised his head a little to look toward his groin. Kathy's twinkling eyes met his and she winked at him. His cock gave a lurch and began to swell again.

-------

Jeff quietly opened the outer door to the suite that Steve and Marcie were using. The room was dark, save a small night light at the base of one wall. With Little One in hand, he walked to the bedroom door and slowly turned the knob, knowing that some older people slept very lightly. He froze as he pushed the door open about a foot. They were far from asleep, and the night vision of a Prime brought the couple into quick focus in the pale light. Embarrassed, he quietly closed the door and retraced his steps.

As he entered the bedroom, Diana sat up, careful to not wake her sister-wives. "What's wrong?" she whispered as she crawled out of bed. "Why are you back so quickly?"

"Well, they weren't asleep," he started.

Diana looked at him, then started giggling. "They were fucking, weren't they?"

Jeff sniggered as they stepped into the vanity area so they could talk, his voice still quiet but no longer a whisper. "Yeah, and I was impressed. She had her legs, cast and all, on his shoulders and he was pounding her. Shit, I was very impressed."

"So you're waiting until they go to sleep, right?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll kill some time, then try again. If they were just lying there and not asleep, I could have had Little One put them out, but with them, uh, having sex, they would darn sure notice."

"Put Little One on the vanity, or back on your shoulders," Diana said as she reached out to stroke the Healer in Jeff's hands. Jeff pulled the neck of his tee-shirt open and slipped Little One inside. Quickly, she spread out on his shoulders. Diana had turned away, putting her forearms on the counter, her breasts already freed for him. She wiggled her ass and looked back over her shoulder. "Surely we can find something to do to pass the time away."

Jeff definitely agreed with her as his eyes focused on her pretty pussy peeking from between her legs, the short skirt of her sleepwear doing nothing to conceal her goodies. He could swear he heard a mental giggle from Little One as he dropped his pants and lined his cock up.

-------

Since they had all agreed that breakfast would be at eight because of the wedding last night, the Matthews took a rare morning to sleep late. Well, the older of the Matthews wives did, the younger ones were up, had eaten and were on the ski slope at the back of the property shortly after daylight. They had already tried out the snowboards while Jeff was gone. Three of the young wives were pretty good; one of them was far better than that.

Although none of them had snowboarded before, all had been dedicated skateboarders a couple years ago. A well-designed skateboard park had been within walking distance of Arlene's house in Georgia, and she had spent many fun hours there when the weather was good. She had been told that skateboarding and snowboarding were far from the same, took different moves, etc., but she knew she would be good at it. She had roller skated a lot, and had water-skied in addition to her skateboarding. A couple-hours of practice the day before yesterday, then a couple more hours this morning, and she was as ready as she would ever be for what she had planned. No tricks, nothing fancy, just a ride. Besides, her husband would be up most any time now, and he would surely nix the idea. Of course if she didn't ask ... The driveway hadn't been plowed out this morning and the weatherman had missed his forecast again — at least on Matthews' Mountain, and there was new snow. And that new snow was sitting atop a couple inches of hard pack on the driveway that the plow never totally cleaned off, and they hadn't sanded in a while.

Time to go before Daddy decides to check on us.

"I'll drive," Jennie said as the garage door went up. They piled in as she started the truck. Backing out, she gunned it for the drive, all of them realizing that their husband was now up. "You better not get hurt, Girl," Jennie practically yelled to her sister-wife as she brought the truck to a sliding halt on the new snow at the top of the driveway.

They all piled out of the truck. "Break a leg," Ann told the little Queen as they hugged.

"This isn't acting," Melissa giggled. "You aren't supposed to say that now."

"Well, if I do get hurt, you all tried to stop me," Arlene said.

"Yeah, as if he's going to believe that," Jennie laughed.

"Time to go," Arlene said, "the computer will probably have us on-screen by now. Helen and Laura have made that darned thing too smart for our own good."

Arlene took a few running steps, threw the board down and jumped effortlessly on. In what seemed like seconds, she was coming up on the first switchback. "Let's go," Jennie screamed, running back to the truck. They all scrambled in. Tires spinning as she fed too much gas in her excitement, she dropped the blade and followed her sister-wife. Suddenly worried that the blade would dig in on the curves despite the wheels that were supposed to prevent that, she raised the blade a few inches and brought the speed of the truck up more trying to catch Arlene. But their idea of following Arlene down the drive in the snowplow truck didn't work out the way they planned. All they got to see was the track of the snowboard as they rounded the first switchback. Arlene was already out of sight past the next turn. That wasn't true for the people watching in the retreat, though.

Just as the Madisons made it to the kitchen where everyone else was waiting, the computer turned the big monitor on above the cabinets, and the hi-res camera zoomed in. The directional mikes turned on their gimbals and with crystal clarity:

"Break a leg."

"This isn't acting. You aren't supposed to say that now."

"Well, if I do get hurt, you all tried to stop me."

"Yeah, as if he's going to believe that."

"Time to go; the computer will probably have us on by now. Helen and Laura have made that darned thing too smart for our own good."

Jeff jumped to his feet, his chair scraping back behind him. "Oh, shit."

The computer split the screen, one camera following the mad scramble of the three young wives as they jumped in the truck and tried to keep up with Arlene, the other camera showed alternating shots of Arlene approaching, and her going away from the camera as she rounded the switchbacks.

The kitchen was suddenly quiet as a tomb.

Arlene for one, was having the time of her life. She had been overly cautious on the first switchback, slowing the board and staying pretty much in the center of the drive. On the second turn, she felt more confident, letting the board go more as centrifugal force pushed her up on the wall of snow. By the third switchback, she was riding high on the side of the wall the plows had thrown out against the guardrail, occasionally fighting for balance across the vicious bumps, then on the straightaways back to the center of the drive. The snow wasn't smooth on the apex of the switchbacks — far from it. There were dips and hollows that the plow had thrown into the railing, and the view of the abyss past the rail was both exhilarating and heart-stopping. Approaching the steepest part of the drive, the adrenalin maxing out, she let the board go fully out, the scratching sound it made on the snow increasing as her speed picked up dramatically.

The walls of snow supported by the guardrails became a blur, but this was a one-time deal — she knew her husband would never let her do this again. She didn't slow, but looked at the next wide switchback designed so the big trucks could make the near one-eighty turns. Halfway through the turn there was a big bulge in the snow, and for a second, she was airborne, the rail almost beneath her, the abyss practically beneath her feet. She felt the g-forces as she hit the snow far too close to the top of the railing, but her balance held as she forced the board farther down the wall to safety.

Shaken, she continued on, but refused to slow. The next drop in the drive wasn't as steep and she was only halfway up the wall as she whipped around the turn. She yelled out, exhilarated, her laughter loud as she passed the next set of cameras. She knew how to negotiate the turns now — how to ride the inside of the wall to best advantage. She whipped around the turn, a geyser of snow spraying out as she shifted her weight to keep from the top of the wall and stay away from the abyss. Shooting out of that turn, she barely had time to prepare for the next one before she was there. The cold wind of her passage bit at her face — tore at her clothing. The next turn and the next, whipped past. The feeling was almost as good as an orgasm. The next turn had a big bump of snow right in the middle, but she was ready for it. Airborne for a second, she hit smoothly and continued on. Next turn. Next turn. She refused to slow her pace in the slightest. Suddenly, she was on the final long straightaway at the beginning of the drive, and it almost tempted her too much. She didn't want to quit — to slow down from the blinding speed. But the driveway ended at a "T" intersection where it met the small county road. There was a big pile of snow just across the pavement that had been pushed there by the snowplows. Too late, she flipped the board ninety degrees to her direction of travel. The board now high on its edge, she rocked her weight down, the snow spraying out as she put everything she had into stopping. She shot across the county road. A half second before she hit the big pile of snow, she let the board go and tucked herself into a ball, remembering how her father had always told her to tuck and roll, tuck and roll. She plowed into the pile like a shot from a cannon.

Everyone in the kitchen was standing now. Jeff almost turned to run for the door, but Diana grabbed him. "No. The girls will be there before you can even get to one of the SUVs."

"She can't breathe under that snow. They're still two switchbacks away."

The people in the kitchen watched as the truck careened down the drive. Jennie barely got the truck stopped before the pile of snow. The girls scrambled out of the truck, Melissa falling hard as her feet went out from under her. But she was up and running almost before she hit the ground.

Arlene suddenly burst back out of the tunnel her body had made when she hit the soft pile. Snow caked her long hair and covered her body. Her sunglasses were gone, her helmet was gone, her coat was partially open and snow was falling out of it. The girls crashed into her and formed a group hug. As they all danced around, they fell into a laughing heap. That soon degenerated into seeing how much more snow they could cram inside Arlene's coat and clothes.

Arlene obviously unharmed, Jeff straightened his chair and sat back down at the table, his head in his hands. "Shit," he quietly said again.

"Isn't it wonderful to have teenagers in the house?" Margaret teased as they reseated themselves.

The new girls' eyes were big. They had remained mute throughout the incident. Now they wondered how severe the punishment would be for Arlene.

Jeff glared back at Margaret. The adults started laughing, and after a bit, the new girls tentatively joined in. Jeff finally managed a sick chuckle.

Bill, Kathy and Jill had remained standing as they watched the ride on the monitor, but now started toward their places at the table. Diana turned to see Jill's mincing steps, and the Queen took over. "Helen, would you please get the cream? Bill, pick up your wife and follow me. She needs a good soak in the hot tub and some girl-time with us women. You men can fend for yourselves."

Bill scooped Jill into his arms. Ushering the new girls, Diana followed Bill as all the women quickly left the kitchen. Diana suddenly turned back. Grabbing Jeff in a hug, she whispered in his ear, "Don't be too hard on your daughter. You'll embarrass her far too much if you do." Then his Queen was gone.

Jeff sat back down and took a sip of cold coffee. "Computer! Archive and save under filename, Arlene Snowboarding the Driveway!"

Archived the computer responded.

It was a major effort for Jeff to stand and casually walk over to the sink. Dumping his cold coffee out, he poured himself a cup, then brought the pot back to the table with him as Bill returned. In a mostly normal voice, he asked the men, "Wa ... uh, want another cup of coffee?"

None of the men were foolish enough to kid Jeff about his voice breaking.

Jeff took another sip of coffee to calm himself as he tried to get the incident off his mind. One bobble and she would have been over the edge. Shit. What the fuck was she thinking? Think about Marcie and how she's doing this morning. No one has commented on how she's walking with that cast, but it's obvious she's doing a lot better with it this morning than she did last night. Heck, she isn't even using the crutch at all. She rushed out with the other women as they headed for the hot tub.

My daughter almost killed herself on one of those turns. One slip and she would have been over the edge.

It's obvious that Marcie knows something happened to her and her husband last night. She commented that they were both feeling wonderful this morning. Both of them are highly intelligent. It won't be long before they compare memories and realize that they both had dreams of a blue glow. She'll realize that the foot isn't just better, but healed. Both of those people are professionals — scientists. They'll figure out that something happened. I've already seen them looking at Diana. Ten to one they're wondering how she can be so young. But I couldn't let Marcie continue to suffer when Little One could heal her. I just couldn't. I wonder how long it will be before Marcie decides to take that cast off. Bet it won't be long.

The computer showed the truck parking near the back door. Jeff stood.

"Jeff, she's only sixteen," Dave started.

Jeff turned back to Dave for a second. "I know. I'm over my mad now. She just ... scared the living daylights out of me."

"Us all," Frank agreed.

Jeff walked out of the kitchen.

"I hope he doesn't..." Frank said.

"He won't," Dave commented. "He loves her too much."

"She scared me on that one turn," Steve said. "She was awfully close to the top of that wall of snow."

"But that will make one hell of a video to show her grandkids," Dave laughed, breaking the tension. "One hell of a video."

-------

The girls had taken their coats off and shaken out most of the snow. Inside, they hung them up as they entered the hallway where Jeff was waiting. Arlene walked straight to him, her head held high. "I did it. I loved it, but I'll never do it again. I know I must have worried you. I'm sorry for that. I, uh..."

Jeff's arms slammed around her as he lifted her off her feet, squeezing her. "I love you," he ground out as he rapidly blinked his eyes.

Her voice muffled into his neck, "I love you too, Husband," she said as she struggled to breathe. "I love you too."

Ann grabbed Jeff's shoulder before he crushed Arlene. "Can we see the video? We didn't get to see a thing."

"Yeah," Jeff replied, then taking time out, he kissed each of his young wives.

"Come on," Melissa said, "we can do this in the living room. I want to see Arlene's ride on the big screen."

They all took off running, dragging a laughing Jeff with them. Shortly in the living room, "Computer! Play Arlene snow..."

But the screen came on well before he could finish.

"Break a leg."

"This isn't acting. You aren't supposed to say that now."

Jeff stared at the screen as the scene unfolded for his young wives to watch. That damn computer is getting smarter all the time. Every time I try to talk to Helen and Laura about it, they just stonewall me and smile, though.

As the file ran, the girls were mesmerized by Arlene's ride. They screamed as she rode the wall much too close to the abyss, cheered for her as she made the other turns, then laughed as she hit the snow pile, knowing she hadn't been hurt. With the video ended, they quickly shed their winter clothes, revealing their shorts and tee-shirts they preferred for inside wear. Jeff started to say something about the absence of bras with company in the house, but then realized that his other wives hadn't been wearing any either. Melissa sat in his lap as Jennie told the computer to show the video again. Melissa kissed Jeff while her hand popped the snap on his jeans. He felt her pull his zipper down and a cold little hand reached in and grasped his cock.

"Baby, we have guests," he admonished as she yanked her shorts and panties off.

"Diana said you caught Steve and Marcie going at it last night."

"When did she tell you that?"

"When you went back to their suite after you fucked Diana in the vanity area. You can't fuck one of us without the others knowing, Silly. Heck, we all had an orgasm when she did."

"Oh."

"Jennie," Melissa said, then nodded to the doorway.

Jennie glanced at them, then ran over and positioned herself to watch out for the men. "Go for it, Girl," she laughed as she turned most of her attention back to the screen.

Melissa straddled Jeff's lap, held his cock straight up and eased her pussy down on it as she kept her head turned to watch the third running of Arlene's ride. "Baby, those men will be in here in a minute," Jeff said in desperation.

"Well, you better hurry and start pumping then," his young wife giggled as she stuck a titty in his mouth.



-------

Chapter 45

"Is Jill going to need Little One?" Jeff quietly asked Diana as they sat in the living room and watched Jill walk carefully in.

Diana, in her favorite position on Jeff's lap, whispered in his ear, "No. And believe it or not, her new pussy is in better shape than her ass."

"Her ass?"

"Yeah. Bill spanked her for what happened with Ingles," she returned with an odd expression. "She ate her breakfast as she sat in the water of the hot tub. She has trouble sitting in a chair, though."

"Bill spanked her on their wedding night?" Jeff frowned at his Queen. "A real spanking? That doesn't make sense. Bill would never do that. Jill had no control over what happened with Ingles."

"I know that. You know that, as does everyone else. But Jill was fully aware of what was going on while she was with Ingles, even though she couldn't stop it. In her mind, she needed to be forgiven. Bill spanked her for her transgressions — the transgressions that she felt like she had participated in. Willingly or not. She received her punishment, so now she's forgiven."

"That doesn't make sense ... She didn't do anything wrong."

"She knows she didn't, but she feels like she did. Now she has been punished and forgiven."

Jeff knew he wasn't going to win this little argument, so he just shut up and looked at his wife. She was easy on the eyes, anyway. Shifting his gaze, he discreetly glanced at the triad, as they stood looking out the window, a woman on either side of Bill, everyone embracing. "So she's standing, leaning against Bill because..."

"She can't sit down. Also, check out Bill's right hand. If you look carefully, it seems to be swollen a little."

"He's been enhanced, the swelling won't last long," Jeff offered. Then, "Shit, that wasn't a spanking, that was a beating."

"Maybe so, but that's what Jill wanted, and in her mind, had to have. Besides, with what Little One has done to her, I imagine Jill's sore ass won't last nearly as long as she expects," Diana added.

"And what does Kathy think about this?"

"She helped orchestrate it."

"Must have been an interesting wedding night."

Diana giggled in his ear, "So was ours."

-------

Dave opened the apartment door when Jeff knocked. "What brings you to our fair abode? It must be, what ... twenty minutes or so since we shot the shit in the living room..."

"A comedian you ain't," Jeff laughed as they walked on into Dave's kitchen. "My women are in a cleaning mood this morning, and 'suggested' that I get the hell out of the way."

"Yeah, well, it must be catching. Linda, Kim and Evie are doing the same thing. Probably not safe to go farther than here in the kitchen. Want something to drink?"

"Something wet would be fine, as long as it's cold," Jeff said, sitting at the table. "I've drunk my fill of coffee for the time being."

Dave stopped to look back at his best friend for a second, then altered his course for the refrigerator. Friend? More than that — much more. Maybe, a brother I never had. Then aloud, "I never thought I would hear you say that," he laughed as he grabbed a couple cokes and pushed the refrigerator door closed with his shoulder.

"There you go again with the funnies. I do get filled up on coffee on occasion."

They both chuckled again as Dave put the drinks on the table and plopped down across from Jeff. "What about Frank and Margaret?" Dave asked with a leer. "Haven't seen them since breakfast."

"Maybe they're cleaning, too," Jeff allowed.

Dave sniggered. "Frank's going to fuck that woman to death before they can get married. Margaret needs to seriously think about getting some help while she can still walk. Marcie and Steve gone home I guess?"

"Yeah, they headed out with Marcie walking — well kinda stumping I guess you could say — with that walking cast, but with the crutch thrown over her shoulder. She refused to ride in the wheel chair, too. She said she was going to take the cast off as soon as she got home. I think she and Steve compared notes. They made a big deal about how good they felt this morning — a big deal. And Steve made several comments about us insisting they stay the night when they lived so close. Those two are sharp as they come. They know something happened, and they're just about positive I had more than a little to do with it. Marcie sort of bounced up and down on that leg and told me she was going to go and have it x-rayed again, but she knew it was healed."

"Oh, crap," Dave said.

"Yeah, I about shit a brick. No use getting a medical doctor involved in this. And that bone healing up in a couple days would sure get him thinking. I finally just grabbed both Marcie's arms, looked her in the eyes and very sincerely asked her not to do that. She looked at her husband, and both of them asked why."

"What did you say to that?"

"What the fuck else could I do? I..."

"You didn't tell..."

" ... lied, of course," Jeff finished. "Well, actually I let them lie for me. Steve said something about me being an inventor, so I just let it ride. I swore them both to secrecy about what had happened. I told them 'it' could not possibly be released to the public at the present time, and 'its' functionality was very limited for now. I did tell them that their osteoporosis would shortly be a thing of the past, but if they ever expected to get any kind of treatment from me in the future, they would have to honor their promise of secrecy."

"You think they will talk?"

Jeff took a sip of his drink and thought for a minute. "Most of us have family. I haven't asked what their situation is, but it would be hard to not mention it to a family member who had major health problems. All I can do is hope, and ... they've actually not seen anything. But you know how different your body feels after Little One has done her thing. I think ... I know they're honorable people. I can only hope for the best."

Jeff changed the subject. "What about Jesse's truck? Have you checked on it lately?"

Dave slid another chair out and propped his feet up. "Yeah, Evie and I ran by there while you and Bill were out, uh, seeing to Ingles." When Jeff waved his fingers negligently to Dave, he went on, "It's beginning to look like a truck again — now. When we were by there a week ago, they were sandblasting and coating the frame; it only vaguely resembles a truck. But they had the new motor and transmission on the frame this time, so it's beginning to take shape. He said another week or ten days. Still have a couple of parts that haven't come in. Couple of weeks and Jesse is going to have a new, old truck. Probably last longer than some of the new stuff coming out these days, though.

"Oh, yeah, Jesse won't have to get out and lock the lugs for four-wheel drive like he used to. That part will be modern. Just flip a selector switch for four-wheel drive, automatic four-wheel drive, or two-wheel drive."

"That's good." Jeff leaned back and thought for a moment. "We need to figure out some way to really surprise him when we give the truck back to him — well, when Tate gives it back to him."

"Jeff, I think you need to talk to the sheriff about that. Rebuilding a motor, or putting on a paint job is one thing. Those deputies wouldn't think anything about it. But this truck is going to be new, and dressed out, besides. Might not be a good idea to present him with the truck at the department and say that Tate's slush fund did it. Even if the deputies do believe that Tate had that much money in his slush fund, there could still be some jealousy started. We don't want to get Jesse in a mess."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Quinton said something about it already. Maybe we better do the unveiling up here."

Dave went on, "Those deputies are curious as hell. You know how Joyce is. Their curiosity is a major part of their job. Their brains just naturally have to unravel things. You can bet your sweet ass that bunch knows Joyce is living with you. You said that Marcie and Steve had figured it out; it would be a stretch to think that Tate's deputies haven't done as well, if not a lot better. Why don't you just take credit for the truck? Jesse might be pissed, but hell, he isn't going to believe that Tate has that kind of money in his slush fund, anyway. If you take credit, the deputies will think you're just taking care of Jesse because he saved Joyce. Nothing strange about that, and hey, it's the truth."

Jeff sighed. "Jesse has already wondered why it's taking so long to get the motor rebuilt. He's driving his dad's pickup, and Dad is probably wondering how long it will be before he gets his truck back. I hope this doesn't all come crashing down around my ears when Jesse sees that truck. He's a proud guy. I don't want to lose a good friend because of overdoing it with his truck. Shit."

Dave thought for a minute. "If he gets pissed, just ask what he would do if someone saved Alesha and blew their truck motor while doing it. You can negotiate from there."

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, that's what I'll have to do. I guess getting Alesha on my side to begin with wouldn't hurt, either. I'll get Diana to get together with Alesha and Joyce before the truck gets back. Fuck it. I wish I could just put a million dollars in Jesse's account, or something like that. He fucking saved my wife, and ... he blew his truck motor up doing it."

Dave thought that was funny. Funnier than Jeff thought, obviously, because Jeff frowned at him when Dave laughed.

"Oh, the trials and tribulations of a rich man," Dave sniggered.

The men sat in silence for a time, then, "Uh, Jeff, there's something ... uh..."

Jeff raised an eyebrow and looked at his friend. "Since when have you become shy? Spit it out."

Dave took a sip of his drink, refusing to meet Jeff's eye, obviously nervous. Finally, "I've got a problem..."

Jeff couldn't remember seeing Dave quite as intense. "You got money problems? If that's it, you damn well know we'll..."

"No, no, Jeff. Heck, you're overpaying us now, and the company is doing fine."

"I'm not overpaying you, but what gives? Come on, out with it. We'll solve it together. If we can't do it, I'll call a family meeting. We've got enough brains in this building to get it solved, whatever it is."

Dave sighed, "I don't know whether it has an answer or not, and ... I can't seem to find one. I ... uh, it's Linda. Jeff, I love her so much it hurts. Don't misunderstand me, I love Evie and Kim the same way, but this just involves Linda. Well, not really, it..."

Jeff's enhanced hearing picked up the near-silent bare footsteps approaching the kitchen. One of his "Prime" senses, newly awakened, indicated it was one of Dave's wives, but he wasn't sure whether it was Linda, Kim or Evie, though. Jeff started to reach to touch Dave's hand to warn him, but aborted the move and picked up his drink as Dave continued.

"It's about a promise I made Linda. Well, it wasn't a promise exactly, but I told her it was fine with me if that's what she wanted."

The footsteps faltered and stopped, but only the Prime heard.

"I understand. We're Alphas, if we tell someone we'll do something, it's automatically a promise — same thing. We both know that. You're stalling."

"Yeah, I guess, I am," Dave sighed. "Fuck, I don't know how to say this tactfully, so I'll ... I know your women have told you that Linda and Bill became ... closer than father and daughter while Jill was spending so much time with Ingles the last year. I guess in Linda's mind, she was taking over the duties of Bill's wife. Hell, not just in her mind, she was. Anyway, they never actually did anything, but Linda had fallen in love — real love — with Bill. But Bill stopped them from going all the way."

Dave sighed and finished his drink, "Oh, fuck, no use going into all that, but the bottom line is that she told Bill she loved me, but she loved him, too. She got us both to agree that she would spend a night with Bill after she was married to me — do it during the first month. I know that Bill is in just as much a quandary over this as I am. She agreed to marry me with that stipulation, and I'll honor what I told her, but Jeff, it's gonna... hurt," he finished as he suddenly found something to stare at on the table.

"I think I'll have that cup of coffee now," Jeff told his friend.

"Uh, sure," Dave said, getting up, wondering why Jeff didn't just get the coffee himself. The pot on the counter was actually closer to Jeff than it was to Dave, then he suddenly realized that Jeff was giving him a little something to do while he regrouped a bit.

When they each had coffee in front of them and Dave had tossed their empty drink bottles in the trash, he sank down into his seat, despondent.

Jeff took a sip of the excellent coffee, dragging out the moment.

"So what do I do?" Dave asked, knowing there wasn't an answer, at least not one that would take the hurt away.

Jeff looked at him, an expression on his face that Dave couldn't interpret. "You do the same thing I do when there is a big household problem. Like a good husband, I wait for my women to tell me the answer. If it's business, a threat to my family, or anything from outside, I handle it. But if it's internal, I bow to my wives. Oh, sometimes they let me pretend I've solved it, but we all know where the solution really comes from. It's called pussy whipped, my friend, and regardless of the stigma that goes with that title, I kinda enjoy my version of it."

"Damnit, Jeff. I'm serious about this..."

"So am I," the Prime interrupted. "Linda loves Bill beyond the father/daughter concept. At worst, she makes love to him for a night, just like you agreed. I took Diana's virginity in the back seat of a car, and Ann's in the honeymoon suite. None of my other wives were virgins. It has not mattered one iota to me, and never will. Linda gave you her virginity with the stipulation that she would honor her father at a later time. It will hurt you, but I'll be amazed if you don't come out better for it in the long run. She'll know the sacrifice you made to allow her to do this. She will never forget it — and neither will Bill."

"I know. Hell, I know all that, it's just I'm afraid I'll always have a vision of him pushing his cock up her..."

" ... And," Jeff broke in, "he'll be making love to someone who has loved him and fought to keep him sane when all this was going down. They won't be fucking; they'll each be making love to someone very special. She will give him something that he can't receive from anyone else. And ... she would have been his if you hadn't come on the scene. Remember, if Bill were not the man he is, he would have taken her in Saint Louis, and you wouldn't be where you are now."

There was quiet for a moment as Dave thought about what Jeff had said, then Jeff continued, "Sometimes there's hurt in a marriage. Seeing Diana with Jack about undid me. But now her love for me is far, far beyond what we had in Georgia. We both know — now, of course — that the Healer's enhancement of my women caused some things to change with their bodies that I wasn't aware of then. Little One didn't realize it either. She knew little about our culture or us at that point. Chances are that Diana never would have succumbed to Jack without the sexual enhancements that Little One's healing caused. Our women are aware of that now, and are prepared, both mentally and physically, to protect themselves around other men, plus Little One has taken steps to lock our women more to their Alpha. But Bill is an Alpha, too, and the agreement was made. She's your mate. The agreement is binding."

Again, there was silence as the men stared at each other, "Maybe the only answer is to honor what has been agreed upon."

"Hell, I know that, Jeff. I agreed because it means so much to her. You know I won't go back on what I've said. But, damnit, it hurts,  anyway."

Linda stood near the kitchen doorway biting hard on a knuckle to hold back a sob that wanted to come out. Turning away, she quietly walked a short distance down the hall, then ran.

Jeff listened as the faint footsteps faded away. Sometimes a Prime's senses can be a curse,  he thought. He had been reasonably sure that the person at the door was Linda, but when she ran, he knew. He wondered if he had been right to not warn Dave that one of his women was about to walk into the kitchen. But they needed to know how Dave felt, so Jeff had gambled; he hoped he hadn't seriously messed up and made things worse for Dave.

Later, as Jeff was getting ready to leave, Dave's three women came into the kitchen, laughing and cutting up. Jeff caught Evie's eye for a second and she winked at him.

Linda settled into Dave's lap and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Wow," Dave exclaimed when she let him breathe. "What was that all about?"

"It's all about that we love you, Dummy," Linda replied as she got up to let Kim take her place.

"Well, I, uh, guess it's about time for me to hit the dusty trail," Jeff tried to kid as Kim finally finished with her kiss.

"Why Jeff? They're just saying hello," Dave got out before Evie took over his mouth.

Evie pulled back for a second, "Says you," she giggled as she pulled his hand under her top and plastered her mouth to his again.

Jeff chuckled and went on out the door. None of the others noticed him leaving. Looks like Dave's wives, or maybe his Queen, have made his decision for him. I wonder how long it will be before they tell him what it's going to be.

One of the big riding vacuums passed with Jennie driving and both Nat and Nicki hanging on the back. Up ahead at an intersecting hallway, another riding vacuum made a U turn and went back the way it came. Melissa was driving it with a laughing Whitney hanging on.

Caitlin came up to him and gave him a hug. Nodding in the direction of the vacuum, she said, "Those girls don't act much like rape victims of just a few days ago."

"Yeah, thanks to my wives," Jeff replied as he hugged her back and kissed the top of her head.

"Don't forget Kayla. She's been keeping them busy just as we have."

"Yeah, you're right..."

The vacuum reappeared and made another one-eighty in the intersection. Whitney waved to them, then stared in their direction until the building blocked her view.

"And ... she wasn't looking at me, my big, beautiful husband. If you're anywhere near them, those girls can't take their eyes off you."

"Caitlin, I ... Look I'm responsible for them..." Jeff started, but was cut off by Caitlin.

"Just as you are for Melissa and Jennie."

"Well, uh, yeah. But that was a little different. I'm trying my best to keep anything from happening with those three. I didn't realize how things were when Jennie and Melissa were first here. I want to be a father to those girls."

Caitlin pushed back a little so she could look up into his face. "Well dream on, my Husband, for those girls are caught hook line and sinker. One of these mornings you're going to look up and there will be three additions to our bed — not to mention Kayla."

"I already have nine wives. I'm just one man..."

"Oh, don't start, Jeff," Diana said, walking up. "And you're not a man, you're a Prime, Prime," she finished, giggling at her own turn of words. "Ask if any of your wives feel neglected. And you know what the answer to that is. Now, Helen, Laura and I have just taken some cinnamon rolls out of the oven. Go find a place to relax and we'll bring them in to you in just a minute." She grabbed Caitlin's hand and pulled her with her. "Come on, Girl. You've got to go back to work tomorrow; let's have some fun together while we can."

-------

Everyone was in the living room eating the fresh cinnamon rolls and chatting. Dave was sitting on a couch with Linda in his lap. Evie and Kim were bracketed on either side of him. Linda fed him a bite of roll and followed it with a kiss. Dave shot a questioning look at Jeff, who shrugged and grinned back at his friend.

Frank had grabbed Margaret and pulled her down to his lap while trying to discreetly slide a hand under her top. Kayla and the three new girls sat among Jeff's wives as Diana talked to them about something.

A pickup turned into the drive.

VEHICLE IDENTIFIED. DRIVER IDENTIFIED AS DEPUTY GOODMAN, the computer announced.

"Uh, Jeff, I didn't do a very good job on the driveway," Jennie said. "I was worried that the blade would dig into the pavement on the turns, so I didn't let it down all the way."

"I don't think there will be any problem. His dad's pickup is four-wheel drive and he told me he keeps some extra weight in the back for traction."

"Ours didn't even spin coming back up, but I guess with the weight of the blade on the front and the sand in the back, it wouldn't," Jennie continued.

"Let's see what happens," Jeff said. "If he has problems, we'll go get him with the plow."

They watched the truck on-screen as it negotiated the drive without any problems, other than the steepest part. Even then the wheels only spun for a few seconds, but the big snow tires bit in and the truck continued on.

Alesha walked in dressed in black pants and matching pullover top that showed her figure well, indeed. She had obviously received lessons from someone while she had been at the retreat, for her makeup was well done and understated.

"He's right on time, as always," she said, the underlying pride obvious in her voice. "He's taking me shopping in Denver."

Diana got up and left the room. Shortly she was back, caught Alesha's eye and the two women left for a moment. A couple minutes later, Alesha came back, her face flushed, but smiling.

Alesha didn't wait for Jesse to come inside, but rushed out to meet him.

"He's been working double shifts to get a day off," Diana told the group a few minutes later as they watched the pickup start back down the drive. "That girl is head over heels."

"And so is he," Jeff added. Then as Diana sat in his lap, he whispered in her ear, "How much did you give her?"

"Don't know. I was in a hurry so I just grabbed a handful of hundreds and stuffed them in her purse. When she kept protesting that she had gotten paid and we had already 'done too much, ' I told her we were so very proud of her and we wanted to buy her some new clothes. I also told her that we wanted to treat them to a very nice restaurant. I kissed her on the mouth and told her that we loved her and to not dare come back with any of that money. Jeff, she has never had anything. I hurt so much for her."

"Jesse will make her spend it on herself when she tells him where the money came from. I'm proud of you."

"Well, I need to plow the drive out and put some sand and salt on those steep places," Dave said as he stood.

"Sit down, my Friend. Neither you nor Evie has taken a day off in forever."

Dave sat back. "The snowplow company hasn't plowed it out today, probably because it didn't snow in the valley and with the missed weather forecast, they didn't realize that we had new snow up here. Besides, Evie and I need to check on the work at Carla's house. We'll plow it out on the way down."

Jeff waved his hand to emphasize. "You have Korey for that. So let him do his job. If for some reason the work isn't completed on their house when Fred and his women get back, they can spend a few days up here. Besides, we need to have Audrey spend the night." He left unsaid that he would use the Healer on her.

The new girls and the young wives all got up and went to the other end of the living room. Kayla smiled at them but went to sit with Helen and Laura, instead.

"So what gives?" Arlene questioned.

Whitney looked at Nat and Nicki for a moment, then, "Uh, I guess it's none of our business, but..."

"But what? We don't have any secrets around here. What's wrong with you guys?"

"Uh, well, we heard what you said when you were going to go down the drive on the snowboard. Uh, what did Major, uh Jeff, do to you for your discipline?"

"Discipline?" Jeff's young wives chorused.

"Well, you disobeyed. If you don't want to tell us ... uh, that's okay. We just wanted to know what to expect..."

Enlightenment dawned on Arlene. "Oh, crap. I don't know what to say. Uh ... this is your home. This place — our family — doesn't have anything in common with that terrible place you used to live. Nothing. My 'discipline' was when my husband yanked me off the floor and about broke me in half hugging me. I'm his wife. I'm an adult as far as he's concerned. Oh, he has spanked me, but we were making love when he did it. It was sex play, and I wanted him to. He would never hit me for real. I can't even imagine ... I mean, what did they do to you?"

Nat broke in with, "Discipline varied depending on what we did and how our superiors felt at the time. Sometimes it was a missed meal, or extra work. Theoretically, they didn't strike us, but they would grab us and shake us. All of us have been slapped, though, rules or no rules. They would also keep us from getting clothes when they were given out. There never were enough to go around, anyway, so I suspect that they used that form of discipline to make the clothes go further."

Arlene looked at her sister-wives. "Makes me want to visit that place and do some shaking of my own," she said. She got up and knelt down in front of the three girls as they sat together on a couch. Taking their hands, she pulled gently until they were all holding hands together. "We expect everyone in the retreat to, as Dad puts it, 'do right.' We're all adults here, and you will be treated as one. We're a family and you're part of us now. You will be expected to join in when we cook or clean, but you'll also be expected to join in when we play or just gather as a family like we're doing here in the living room now. We neglected to come get you this morning, and for that we were wrong. But we had planned this and got up real early to make a few more trips down the ski slope before I tried the driveway. We'll take you out snowboarding later today, if you like.

"About what I did, while I didn't exactly disobey, or do something wrong, I was pushing the envelope because I knew that my husband would never condone what I did. It's not something I will ever do again, for I would not want to stress my family as I take those risks. In retrospect, we should have invited you guys to come with us to watch."

"Of course, we didn't get to see a thing until we got back to the living room," Ann broke in, laughing.

"Yeah, there is that. But we want to apologize for not inviting you. We feel bad about that..."

UNIDENTIFIED VEHICLE ENTERING DRIVE, the computer stated.

The girls and young wives hurried back to the others.

"That one of your men?" Jeff asked Dave.

"I don't recognize the car," Dave answered. "You, Evie?"

"Nope. But I can tell you one thing. Those don't look like snow tires to me, and it surely isn't four-wheel drive. Whoever is driving it won't make it up the driveway."

As the vehicle neared the first switchback, the computer zoomed in on the windshield, the filter kicked in and the glare suddenly went away.

"That is one good-looking woman," Dave said, laughter in his voice. "She looks familiar somehow, though..."

"Oh, shit!" Diana cried out, standing. "That's my MOTHER!"



-------

Chapter 46

..."That is one good-looking woman," Dave said, laughter in his voice. "She looks familiar somehow, though..."

"Oh shit!" Diana cried out, standing. "That's my MOTHER!"

"Oh, shiiit," Jeff dragged out with a sigh.

"So what's the big deal?" Frank said. "You darn sure have plenty of room for a guest."

Diana turned to glare at him. "Her title should be, 'My Mother, The Bitch, '" she hissed out at him. "I don't know how in the heck my dad ever got her pregnant. One would assume that they had to make love at least once, though."

"Oh, she can't be that bad," Frank laughed, but grunted as Margaret elbowed him in the ribs.

Diana spun to her husband, who was also standing by then, "Jeff, what are we going to do?"

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," Arlene broke in, "we're going to meet my Meemi as soon as she gets out back. I haven't seen her since she moved to Florida, and that's been ages ago."

"A year. Not near damn long enough," Jeff mumbled under his breath.

Diana glared at her daughter. "You're the only one on the face of this earth who likes that woman."

"Oh, come on, Mom. She's kept me ever since I can remember. She's taken me to skateboard parks, roller skating, to the movies and game rooms. And lots of time she's taken Ann, Melissa and Jennie with us, too. She's taken us to tons of places and we all think she's super. She's our buddy."

"Buddy, hell. Wait until she figures out you are married to your dad. You might not be as pleased with her when she calls DHR."

"Oh, Mom, she's not going to do that. Her bark is worse than her bite."

"Moot point anyway," Dave said. "She'll never make it up the drive with a two-wheel drive and no snow tires. I might as well..."

"No," Jeff broke in. "Let's watch this. That woman has darn sure made Diana and me sweat many a time, let's watch her sweat for a while. Heck, the worst that can happen is she'll slide into a snowbank backed by the guardrails. She's always driven like a bat out of Hell, and I can't remember her ever having a wreck. Let's see what she can do."

Dave frowned at Jeff, but Diana grinned from ear to ear.

Apparently, it only took one of the switchbacks for Susan to figure out that she needed to push it on the turns if she expected to have enough momentum to make the steep grade afterward.

By now, everyone had moved closer to the big screen, arranging chairs to watch the show. "Crap, she made the second grade," Jeff said.

"They get steeper," Diana interjected, hope in her voice.

The third grade got her, and the car came to a standstill just before the top, wheels spinning. "I might as well go get her..." Dave started, but hesitated as the car reversed and started back down the drive.

Past the turn and on a reasonably level place, Susan gunned the engine and tried again. She was obviously staying in the tracks she had already made in the snow as she barreled around the switchback, the back of the car a little out of line as she slid around the turn on the fresh snow with the hard snow pack under it. But she stayed in her previous tracks as she straightened out after the curve. Wheels spinning, the car neared the top of the grade.

"Yea, she's going to make it," Arlene cheered as she, Ann, Jennie and Melissa jumped up and down clapping.

"Going to make that one," Jeff said. "There is a bunch left."

Susan eased over the grade and picked up speed. The next several inclines and switchbacks weren't as steep, and she swung around each turn barely in control, but always managing to keep from sliding into the wall of snow on the outer edge.

"She has two more steep ones to go, Daddy."

Begrudgingly, Jeff gave the bitch credit. She could darn sure drive.

"She's lived where there was snow," Frank guessed.

"Other than the few inches we get in Georgia each year, I don't think so. At least she never mentioned living anywhere else," Jeff said.

The car stalled out about halfway up the next incline. Without hesitation, it reversed and went back down.

"I will give her this," Dave said, "she hasn't bobbled a bit when she backs up. I have guys who work for me who can't back worth a crap, let alone that far and that fast."

Having backed past the switchback to a level spot, the vehicle stopped for a moment. The camera zoomed in to give a perfect view of Diana's mother. Even with the large sunglasses covering a portion of her face, it was still evident that she was a beautiful woman. Her jaw tensed as she stared at the driveway. Hesitating a moment, she dropped the vehicle into gear, then started forward again. It was obvious she realized how steep this grade was because she held her speed up until she spun out on the switchback and slid into the deep snow on the side of the drive.

"I'll go..."

"No," Diana snapped. "When she gives up, we'll go get her. Let her try for a while."

Dave sighed, looked at Evie who shrugged, but kept her counsel.

Susan had gotten her car out of the deep snow on the hill and backed back down at speed. This time, she didn't pause, but immediately tried again, just as fast as the last time. She made the curve though, and tires spinning wildly, barely made it over the crest of the incline as Arlene cried, "Go, Meemi!" After two more inclines that weren't as steep, she stopped as she saw the next one. It was just as steep as the other steep one, but unknown to her, if she made this one, the others weren't as steep.

"She's damn going to make it," Dave said, respect in his voice.

"Yeah," Jeff agreed. "And if she does, there is going to be hell to pay when she realizes that we have a snowplow and have been watching her struggle."

"I don't like this," Arlene said. "We could have gotten to my Meemi by now."

"Yeah, and she could have called and let us know she was coming," Diana groused. "I talked to her two days ago and she didn't even mention it. She could have let us put a fan in our bedroom to make some white noise when your dad and I were first married, too. But, nooo, she wouldn't let us do it. We couldn't make a sound when we made love, or she would berate us the next day. And ... the damn bed squeaked. Let her struggle. She's gonna raise hell when she gets here whether we help her or not."

"Oh, Mom, she is not."

They watched as her car spun to a stop for the second time a few feet from the top of the steep incline. Without hesitation, Susan turned to look over her shoulder as she sped back down the hill.

"I'm beginning to admire this woman," Frank said. "Not only is she a damn good driver, but she certainly doesn't give up easily. And ... that might very well be the understatement of the day."

The car came roaring back around the switchback, barely keeping from spinning out sideways. This time, Susan made it over the top, albeit with a lot of spinning just at the crest, but make it, she did.

"Won't be long now," Jeff sighed. "And it was a perfect Sunday morning."

Diana turned to her husband. "What are we going to tell her, Baby?"

Jeff frowned. "The truth. What else?"

"Tell my mother that you have nine wives? She'll go ballistic. And when she finds out that Arlene is one of them..."

"Yeah, there is that little detail."

The car slowed when Susan got to the big circular drive in front of the retreat, but since it hadn't been plowed out in days, it was obvious that the family didn't use that entrance. She continued on, but having slowed to check out the front, the rise as the drive circled to the back of the retreat, got her. Backing up, she gunned it and tried again.

"Time to go," Arlene laughed. "Let's go meet Meemi."

"Yeah, you guys go ahead," Jeff said to his young wives. "I'll wait right here for my execution."

"Oh, Daddiieee," Arlene laughed as she grabbed Ann's hand and the four young wives ran out of the living room.

"Oh, well. I suspect I'm going to have to put two new tires on the back of that rental car before she turns it in; she's bound to have burned a lot of tread off, but watching her fight that driveway was worth it."

-------

"I knew I was coming to a mountain," Susan was saying to Jeff's young wives as she walked into the living room, "but the rental place was all out of four-wheel drives. Some kind of convention or something. That was the only vehicle they had left."

"Well, hello, Daughter," Susan said, coming to a stop as she saw Diana. Suddenly, Susan looked confused. As she took the few steps to be near Diana, she stopped and put her hands on her hips. "Well, it looks like you have certainly put some of that money to use. How much did the plastic surgeons charge you to redo your face? You look like you should still be in high school."

"Well, Mother. It's nice to see you, too," Diana sarcastically said.

"Yeah, I'll bet," Susan replied through a grin. Then turning to Jeff, "Well, hello, my favorite son-in-law. Of course, you're my only son-in-law."

"Hey, Mom," Jeff said brightly. "Great to see you." Nobody believed him.

Despite their verbal jabs, Diana and her mother hugged. "So who are all these people?" Susan said, turning to the others.

Diana couldn't help it, she just had to do it, "Well, this is our project manager, Dave Henson, and his assistant and first wife, Evie."

Dave stuck out his hand, fighting a grin. Susan shook it, and Dave was pleased to note it was not one of those handshakes that some women give that are so limp as to make a man feel uncomfortable.

Evie and Susan exchanged greetings.

Now for the bombshell,  Diana thought. "Beside Evie is another of Dave's wives. Meet Linda. My mother, Susan," Diana said, her face absolutely without expression. "Next to her is Dave's third wife, Kim."

Diana could see the hesitation, but Susan covered it well as she acknowledged each of Dave's wives. After introducing her to Frank and Margaret, Diana did the same for Bill and his two wives. Color began to creep up Susan's face, but she acknowledged each person. Diana nodded to her sister-wives who had all gathered around a standing Jeff, waiting. Jennie and Melissa stood on either side of him with their arms around him. Susan stared at them for a moment, then looked back at Diana.

"Are you saying..."

"Yes, Momma, they're his wives. We all are."

Arlene took the few steps to her dad, turning to back into his arms. "We are all his wives, Meemi. All of us."

Susan noticed the glint of the gold rings for the first time. "You are ... screwing my granddaughter?" she hissed out to Jeff.

"No," he calmly replied. "I make love to my wives — all of them." There was dead quiet in the room.

"Well," Dave said, clearing his throat and coming to his feet. "Time to go."

He was late. Frank and Margaret were already headed for the door, followed shortly by Bill and his women. Jeff was thankful that Kayla and the new girls were in their suite.

"Thanks, Mom. That was very polite of you," Diana snapped as she sat in a chair. Jeff sat on a couch with Jennie and Melissa beside him, the others sitting on the couch or in nearby chairs.

Arlene walked over and hugged Susan. "It's a long story, Meemi."

Susan seemed to collapse back into a chair. Arlene knelt on the carpet in front of her, holding her hand. "It's not what you think..."

"What I think is he is committing incest with a minor. Statutory rape and incest with my granddaughter."

"No, Meemi. I'm above the age of consent. So there's no statutory rape. Not for me nor any of us," she said, indicating Jeff's younger wives. "Momma and I messed up bigtime before we left Georgia. Dad had every right to divorce Mom, and throw me out too. We dishonored him while he was away trying to make us rich. You need to relax and let us tell you what happened before you say some things that you might later wish you hadn't.

"And why didn't you call and say you were coming?" Arlene went on, trying to distract Susan. "We would have picked you up at the airport. We might even have had the helicopter service fly you out here."

"My Baby," Susan sniffed, her voice breaking. "What has he done to you? What is this place, a commune or something? He's brainwashed you..."

Diana, who had just settled back into her seat, jumped to her feet, quickly walking to her mother. "Mom, shut the fu..." Diana clamped down on her temper. After a second, "Just shut up. This is no commune. This is a home full of people who love each other."

"That's what I figured," Susan snapped. "Do you all get in a pile and go at it?"

"No," Diana snarled, fighting her temper. "We are separate families. We do eat together, and Jeff and I have a large bed that we share with my sister-wives. And ... my sister-wives and I make love to our husband every night."

Susan turned toward Jennie and Melissa. "I thought you two were out here to get out of a bad family environment? Looks like you have gotten into a worse one, thanks to my son-in-law."

Jennie jumped up and came over to Susan. Before Jennie could say anything, though, Arlene grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit with her. Jennie's anger abated as Arlene shook her head and squeezed her hand. Jennie took a breath. "Meemi, please stop accusing Jeff of bad things. It's not like that at all. There is so much to tell you — so many good things. Please stop fussing and trust us a little bit."

Susan noted the sparkling of tears in Jennie's eyes and the sincerity in her voice. "Jennie, I know you're sincere. It just goes to prove that he has brainwashed you somehow."

Diana, still standing near, said, "Arlene, you, Jennie, Ann and Melissa go get your Meemi's things out of her car and get her set up. Come on, Mom," Diana continued as she grabbed her mother's hand and pulled her to her feet. "Let's go to the kitchen, get something to drink, and talk." Diana looked back at Arlene. "Arlene, on second thought, you come with us. The rest of you go do what I said, please. Jeff, come on. We need to get this done before I wring my mother's neck."

Helen caught up with them at the door before they got to the hall. "Di, why don't you use the small dining room? We'll get lunch started while you are having your chat."

"Is it that time already?" Diana replied, looking at her watch.

Helen pulled Jeff aside and whispered in his ear. "I don't know if she would try to get us in trouble or not, but just in case, I had the computer block her out of the phone system. Since cells don't work up here, she can't call out unless one of us okays it."

"How in the hell did you do that?"

"Just told the computer to block her," Helen answered oh so sweetly, leaving tons of information Jeff was really asking, unsaid.

"You, Laura and I need to talk about what you've done with the computer system."

Helen just grinned at him and walked off.

Susan had seen Helen and Jeff whispering, their faces close. As Jeff turned back to the others, Susan said, "Couldn't you wait until tonight to make out with that..."

Diana interrupted her. "Mom,  you're going to keep on until you regret it. Don't you dare call Helen names. Number one, she's a great person; number two, she's a genius; and number three, she's quite capable of taking you apart if she wanted to. She has black belts in things I can't even pronounce. She's also started teaching us self-defense, among many other things. Be good and she might even teach you."

Susan harrumphed, but didn't say anything else for the moment.

Shortly, Arlene, Diana, Susan and Jeff were seated in the small dining room. The door opened and Joyce came in pushing a serving cart. After quickly putting out iced tea and coffee, she stopped beside Susan. Holding out her hand, "I guess we were never officially introduced, so hi, I'm Deputy Joyce Cramer, and as you noticed when we all gathered around Jeff, I'm one of his wives. And...  you can bet your sweet ass, I'm not brainwashed."

Susan absently took Joyce's hand, who gently squeezed it as she quietly said, "Don't let that mouth overload that pretty ass of yours; Jeff wields a mean paddle." Sniggering, she turned and left swinging her hips.

"She's a deputy?" Susan quietly asked.

"Yep," Jeff said, holding back his own snigger, "and she's also bi, so that comment about your posterior might bear more weight than you've probably given it. Of course, her bi is mostly for Caitlin, though. We met Joyce when she and another deputy came by to thank us for the body armor we bought their department." Jeff thought for a second, then added, "Oh, yeah, we're also good friends with her boss, the county sheriff. He was up here last night for the wedding."

"Wedding?"

"Yeah, Jill and Bill remarried last night. The sheriff and his two wives — well they aren't really married yet — and his nieces were here to help us celebrate. His nieces and his sister-in-law are trying to become his wives too, but he's resisting."

"Oh," Susan quietly said.

I'm gonna kiss Joyce for that,  Jeff thought. Now dear old Mom might think twice about threatening to try some type of legal intervention, since we're friends with the sheriff. Damn, I love my wives.

"Tea or coffee?" Diana asked her mother. "It's too late for a snack, but they'll bring us lunch when it's ready."

"How do you know they will? I didn't hear anything about that?" Susan said.

"Me, either," Jeff injected. "But if Diana says it, it will happen. She and her sister-wives have a connection."

"Tea," Susan told Diana, then, "Connection?"

"We'll talk about that later," Diana said, "but first we need to cover other things."

"Yeah, like him fucking my granddaughter," Susan snapped, nodding her head at Jeff.

Diana sighed, then said what had to be about the last thing her mother expected, "Kiss her, Jeff."

Arlene giggled.

Susan's look of incredulity was mirrored by Jeff's. Both just sat there.

"Damnit, Jeff, using your own expression, you can hear a gnat pass gas at twenty feet, so I know you heard me. Kiss her and let's get this show on the road."

"I am not going to put up with this," Susan said, standing.

Jeff stood also.

Diana fought a smile. "Don't turn on the pheromones, just kiss her."

"Di, I..."

"Kiss her, Baby," Diana repeated to her husband. "Just trust me on this. You'll understand in a minute."

"Diana, you have lost your mind," Susan hissed while thinking seriously about running.

Reflexively, Jeff grabbed her hand before she could put thought into action.

"Just kiss him, Mom. Heck, you might even like it."

"I will not like it, I..."

Jeff put one hand behind her neck, the other arm around her, pulling her tightly to him and putting his mouth to hers. Susan pushed against his chest and tried to talk into his mouth. After about ten seconds of struggle — useless on her part — Jeff turned her loose.

"He's a good looking guy, Mom. Although my experiences with other men are quite limited, I strongly suspect that he's about the best lover on Earth. Why don't you quit fighting him and kiss him, please? I'm trying to make a point here."

"'Point' my ass. You're trying to make me mmmm..."

Jeff kissed her again, cutting her off. She still struggled, but after a little, she slumped into him and kissed him back. Jeff teased her with his tongue, then pushed it past her lips a little bit.

When they broke the kiss, Susan's face was a bit flushed, but she was obviously still in control of herself. "Okay," she acknowledged. "He knows what he's doing, but I've had better," she lied.

"Now turn loose a few pheromones, Baby," Diana said to her husband, a grin splitting her face. "Just a little. I only want her to feel them so I can talk to her about Alphas. Not too much, I don't want you to have another wife tonight, or see her strip right here."

"Pheromones? What are you talking about? That's bullshit. Animals have pheromones, not humans." As Jeff started to pull her to him, "Don't you do it." she chided. "I have enough of..."

Jeff pulled her to him, letting a slight push of pheromones go. Damn, her breasts feel good against my chest. They're every bit as large as Diana's. I'm having to concentrate to keep from getting hard. Just a trickle of pheromones. Her hair is almost identical to Diana's: nearly to her ass, slightly wavy and thick. No gray in it yet unless she's dyed it, and if she has it's a darn good dye job. Those auburn highlights would be hard to make look natural. Hmmm, I think I feel some hard nipples poking against my chest, even through her bra. I've often wondered what her figure is like. I suppose it must be quite similar to Diana's, but Susan has always worn conservative clothing around me. I would sure like to see her in a bikini.

Jeff had pushed his right thigh between Susan's legs. Initially she had held herself away from his leg, but with the pheromones, she unconsciously pushed her pussy forward, her hips slowly undulating.

I wonder if she knows she's doing that. Damn, I should have done this years ago, but then again, I didn't know how then.

Susan slumped against Jeff, her tongue touching his, tentative at first, then gaining courage it seemed.

Jeff deepened the kiss, slowly bringing the heat up. Was that a moan? he wondered.

He gently rubbed her back with his left hand while he stroked her neck with the other. Time drifted onward.

"Mom. Mom," Diana called, finally tapping her on the shoulder.

Jeff broke the kiss and stepped back. Susan staggered.

"Pheromones, Mom. Do you believe in them now, or does he have to fuck you on the table to get you to believe?"

Susan's face suddenly became scarlet and she refused to meet Diana's eye. "I can't believe I did that ... he did that. I mean..."

"We discovered it when we had waitresses trying to climb into his lap. Inadvertently, he hooked Jennie and Melissa. Well the pheromones were part of it, and there was something else, too, but they had already fallen in love with him before that. Mom, we're his..."

"And ... it works both ways," Jeff broke in. "I'm hooked just as thoroughly. Mom, I love my women. I'm in love with them. I would literally die for any one of them. I'm really not the ogre you seem to be positive I am. I know that you have detested me for years..."

Susan collapsed back into her chair, shaking her head. "You took my baby away from me. You impregnated her at thirteen,  for goodness sake. Thirteen. Her father and I signed for her to marry you, but with the way the laws have changed, now you would have gone to jail even though you weren't that much older than she was. You took my baby away. Messed up her life. She didn't have the most important part of her life. She didn't get to enjoy her teen years; she had to take care of a baby, and later, she had to work to help you get through college." There was a sniff as Susan fought back tears.

"And ... I wouldn't be here today if he and Mom hadn't made me in that back seat that night," Arlene spoke up for the first time.

"Oh, Baby, I didn't mean that," Susan said as she quickly turned to Arlene, who was sitting beside her. Shortly, they were hugging.

"You can't have both, Mom. Jeff and I made Arlene that night. And like I've told you about a million times before, I willingly got in that back seat. He didn't force me in any way, shape form or fashion. I welcomed him into my body. We kinda lost it in our excitement and never even got the condom package open. Now I know why, of course. He's an Alpha, a Prime even. He wasn't enhanced then, but he still was an Alpha. I stood absolutely zero chance of saying no to him. Yet he has never touched another woman until Arlene and I decided to do the only thing we could think of to keep him from divorcing me. He could have had a hundred women, Momma, but he remained true to me. True to me through it all."

Diana stopped to recoup her thoughts and poured her mother a glass of iced tea. Turning back to her mother, she grabbed her hand as soon as Susan had set her glass down from taking a sip. "Be fair with me. Be honest. Look me in the eye and tell me you could have stopped if Jeff had decided to take you on this table a few minutes ago, and ... so help me, if you lie to me, I'll have him do it."

Jeff and Diana locked eyes. "Di..."

Susan started to say something, but Diana interrupted, "Think carefully. I'm not bluffing. You've always disliked, to put it mildly, my husband. So help me, I'll prove to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's a Prime, even with you not knowing what a Prime is. He'll do what I say," Diana continued as she looked back at her husband, hoping she was telling the truth. "He loves me enough, and I think this is the only way to convince you."

"Meemi, he's a Prime. Sort of an Alpha of Alphas," Arlene broke in. "Mom's pissed. You better do what she says; I don't want to see my Meemi fucked on this table..." When Susan started to say something, Arlene went on with a devilish grin, "maybe in our big bed, though."

Susan's face paled as she realized that Arlene might not be kidding.



-------

Chapter 47

Joyce, Caitlin, Jennie, Melissa and Ann came in with the latter two pushing serving carts. Soon, the table was set and food arrayed in front of Arlene, Diana, Susan and Jeff. The wives' efficiency was not lost on Susan, but she refused to acknowledge it due to her sour mood. Each time she had talked to her daughter or granddaughter on the phone lately, her suspicions that something was going on had increased. Then the introductions in the living room were almost more than she could take.

Each of the wives who brought in the food kissed Jeff before they left. Each kiss was short, but was without a doubt, sexual. Caitlin trailed a hand across Jeff's shoulder as she walked past — a gesture that bespoke love.

Susan took it all in with a frown, then said to Diana, "So we're not going to eat with the rest of the commune?" There was only a hint of sarcasm this time, however.

Diana sighed in exasperation as she passed her mother the broccoli. "Momma, you've never acted like this. Oh, I knew you would be pissed, but I never expected an attitude this bad. At least, most of the time, you were civil to my husband when we lived with you and afterward when we moved out on our own. You know he worked his ass off for me and my child. I could not have asked for a better husband. He was a much better husband than I was a wife. He didn't screw around on me like I did him."

Jeff was about to reach for his tea when he stopped. "Di, you didn't 'screw around' on me, and we've put that horse in his stall a while back. No use to bring him out again."

"'Horse in his stall?'" Diana smiled. "That didn't come from Georgia."

"No, Ma'am. Straight out of Texas," Jeff replied with what he thought was a Texas accent.

"Yeah, right," his Queen sniggered.

Actually, Jeff had found the old expression on a website and had been waiting to use it, but he would never tell anyone where he got his expressions from.

Susan managed a weak smile. "Well, I guess you two do still get along. But why shouldn't he be pleased with nine women to screw?"

"Might be more than that," Arlene chimed in. "You haven't met Kayla yet, or Dad's three new charges."

"Now, Arlene..." Jeff started but was interrupted as Arlene went on to her Meemi.

"Dad has a pair of fifteen-year-old twins and their sixteen-year-old friend that he's just brought back with him. They have a guardian with them who has been in love with my dad almost before she even met him, although she had watched many hours of video of him. Her name is Kayla, and she'll be number ten. We think the girls will follow shortly."

Jeff took a breath to deny, but Arlene went quickly on. "Oh, he wants to be a father figure to the girls, but they'll be his wives soon enough, no matter what he says."

Jeff just gave up and put some creamed potatoes on his plate, trying to ignore the comments — a lot of creamed potatoes to go with a huge steak that was already there.

"I suppose he eats like that," Susan said, gesturing at Jeff's plate with the spoon she was using to take Fordhook lima beans out of the bowl Diana had just passed her, "so he can service all his women." Sarcasm dripped.

"We haven't had our blessing," Diana injected, ignoring her mother.

Arlene grabbed her Meemi's hand. When Jeff's short prayer was over, Susan said very quietly, "He still does that?"

"Does what?" Diana said, an edge to her voice. "Why shouldn't we thank God for all the blessings we've received? Jeff got millions of dollars for the patent rights to his invention. This beautiful building and the hundreds of acres of this fabulous mountain came with it. We've become friends — no family — with the person who bought Jeff's patent. Jeff has bought up several small companies that he did some contract work for as an engineer. Those companies have made major money for us; our investments have done the same. We have far more money now than we had when we moved in here at the beginning of the summer. Our family has prospered financially as well as with our love for each other. And with the family expansion has come other Alphas, who with their families, have become wonderful friends for all of us. So why shouldn't we continue to thank God for what he has given us?"

Susan ate quietly for a little while, then, "But you have to share him with all those other women, and I can't even imagine what it must be like with your daughter right there. You said you have a big bed, so I assume you get in a pile..."

"Mother,  enough with the pile thing," Diana snapped.

"All right, you all make love in the same bed," Susan amended.

"Momma, my sister-wives and I, and that includes Arlene, of course, have a ... connection, as my husband just put it. If he wanted, he could make love to only one of us and we would all be pleasured. If we're touching him, or the woman he is making love to, we become one. What she feels, we all feel. But he's a Prime. Most of the time, he makes love to all of us. Oh, sometimes it can be spread out over the day. The girls will occasionally attack him in the living room, or one of the sitting rooms the retreat is full of." She gave a little snigger, then took a sip of iced tea. "Sometimes, I do the same. None of us goes without, though. He's always there to hold us, snuggle with us, or fuck our brains out, if that's what we need. I certainly couldn't keep up with him by myself."

Jeff dug into his food, refusing to even look up as they talked about him as if he weren't even there.

Susan put her fork down. "That doesn't make sense. Why does he suddenly need all these women? You've bitched at me about not letting you use a fan for white noise in your bedroom when you lived with us, but you two got along for years with just you to service him, and doing it quietly, besides. So, again, why does he need eight other women now?"

"He's a Prime now, Mother. Oh, he was then, of course, but he wasn't enhanced at that time. But he could have 'serviced' many more women than just me. He just didn't because he loved me. Things changed after Jack — changed drastically until I almost lost my husband."

"Jack? Who's Jack?"

"Jack is the biggest mistake I've ever made," Diana said with unshed tears glistening her eyes.

They finished their meal while Diana began their story. Helen and Laura came in with peach cobbler. "Jeff brought this back yesterday from a visit to a little restaurant we helped out a bit," Diana explained. "Martha, the owner, sent two big pans of this great cobbler back with Jeff. We're — well the company — is going to build her a fancy new place, and has already expanded her kitchen and provided her with a great chef. But Martha cooked the cobbler herself."

Arlene put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on her Meemi's cobbler. "Home made," Arlene told her. "Ann, Jennie, Melissa and I made it."

Susan took a bite of the pie and ice cream combination. "It is certainly delicious. Well both of them are," she amended. She looked over to catch Diana's eye. "I expected to see servants everywhere now that you're rich..."

"No," Diana hissed out. "I told you on the phone we didn't have them. No servants — ever. Oh, we do have a cleaning crew come in once a week to do the kitchen floor and touch up some of the suites that are used for guests from time to time. But we do our own work other than that. In the beginning, we made a vow to do our own stuff — to act like we always have, not like so many rich people you read and hear about. We're up at six almost every morning, with few exceptions. Two of Jeff's wives still work." There was a grunt from Jeff, but Diana continued on, "One is a deputy and the other is a nurse. Jeff isn't too pleased that they continue to work, though. Truth be told, I wish they would just stay with us, as well. But their jobs are important, and important to them. And Helen teaches our school, of course.

"Joyce was shot two weeks ago, and almost died. That makes it harder to think about her going back to work tomorrow night. I know my husband will lay awake and worry about her."

"Joyce, the woman who was just in here?"

"Yeah."

"She almost died two weeks ago? She seems fine now. How is that possible?"

Diana hesitated as Jeff looked up and they locked eyes for a moment before Diana returned her gaze to her mother. "Mom, some things around here are secret until you become Jeff's wife. That's one of them. And while we're on the subject, I haven't visited a plastic surgeon. My apparent youth is ... natural, I guess you could call it. It doesn't just affect my face; it's my whole body. That will happen with you too, if you stay with us. But we will have to swear you to secrecy, although we still won't tell you how it's actually done, even then."

Susan continued with her cobbler for a time as her mind raced, then, "I didn't even recognize Laura for a moment. Whatever you have done has affected her as well. She looks younger — much younger."

"Mom, what Jeff has discovered puts the myth of the fountain of youth to shame. But you need to change your attitude toward my husband. There's not a better man walking this Earth. We all try to be better people because of him. There is no strife between any of us, and he's the reason. I can't go into detail about that now, and only us wives and a few others know the whole story, but the 'bitch' needs to stop. You have my husband wrong. It's time for you to open your mind and get over this attitude of his taking your daughter's childhood away from her, and your daughter away from you."

The dishes were cleared away and the story went on well into the afternoon.

Dave had plowed out, sanded and salted the inclines on the driveway. Arlene and the other young wives had taken their Meemi to her suite to get settled in. Diana and Jeff sat beside each other on the couch in the sitting room of their suite. "What are we going to do with her? Oh, she's calmed down now, and is back to treating me the way she always has. In other words, ignoring me when she possibly can, but she's a cocked canon as far as I'm concerned."

Diana thought for a moment. "The new girls appear to be healthy, don't you think?"

"Ummm, the doctors at the base checked them out like I said, and gave them a clean bill of health. Apparently Ingles didn't give them any STDs, if that's what you're talking about."

"Yeah, that too. But what I'm getting at is ... well, maybe you need to have Little One do my mother tonight instead of the girls. If they're okay, that is." At Jeff's raised eyebrow, she went on. "When she gets up in the morning feeling like a million dollars and the age starts coming off her, she will probably be a lot more receptive to our story and our lifestyle. What I've told her is a lot to believe cold turkey, and I've barely skimmed the surface. But since her age regression will be coming from you — as far as she's concerned — how could she stay mad at you? Where else on this Earth could she go to become young again? If that doesn't work, you can always call her to be your mate."

Jeff had been absently staring at his hands as he twiddled his thumbs while listening to his Queen. His head snapped around and he stared at her. His mouth would have dropped open if he hadn't been concentrating so hard. "Di, that is not a joking matter. I don't say that I dislike the woman, or that she's not sexy as hell, but over the years I have developed a distinct tendency to try to think up ways to be somewhere else when she's around. Obviously, she hasn't forgiven me for getting you pregnant. I'll grant her that she babysat Arlene when she was young, and did one heck of a job of keeping her when Arlene was older. And I suppose she probably stressed her finances when she took those girls to everything under the sun. But being a good grandparent and being my mate are different things," he managed to get out. "In a word, not no, but hell no. My dick would never get up over her — ever." But he remembered the kiss and how good Susan had felt in his arms. Begrudgingly, he also remembered his fight to keep his dick from becoming hard, a fight he had not entirely won. Trying to keep a blush from forming, he wondered if his lie about his dick had convinced Diana.

"Her breasts look an awful lot like mine," Diana persisted. "She's just an older version of me. And Flora, her cousin, says she's hot to trot, and claims that Mom has had several lovers since she moved to Florida."

"I don't care what this woman says about Susan. I don't care if Susan has to hold her tits down to see. I am not making love to her. She was reasonably okay as long as your father was alive and kept her in line. After he died, she showed how she really felt about me. I wouldn't fuck that woman with a borrowed dick."

Diana grinned at him. Yeah, right, she thought. I saw that bulge starting in your pants when you were kissing her.

-------

Later in the afternoon, the young wives passed a look. Arlene turned to her grandmother, "Meemi, we need to go help fix supper. Want to come?"

Ann spoke up, "Oh, everybody wants to come," she laughed.

All the girls giggled.

Arlene mock glared at her sister-wife. "I meant did she want to come help."

"Oh," Ann said, as if in amazement.

Susan chuckled as they started for the kitchen. They act just like they always have. If Jeff has warped them, it doesn't show. Susan thought it would probably be awkward around Jeff's other wives, but Jennie and Melissa grabbed her hands and tugged her out of the suite and down the hall. No matter what that asshole son-in-law of mine is doing to my granddaughter and the others, they're certainly in the best mood I have ever seen them, though. Well, with the possible exception of Christmas morning, she said to herself. They've laughed, kidded and cut up ever since I got here. Oh, well.

When they entered the kitchen, Diana had just put a carafe of coffee on a serving cart and was getting cups. "Where are you going with those?" Susan asked, although she already suspected.

"Jeff and Frank are in the living room. I'm going to run this in to them so they'll have something to drink while they wait for supper."

"You wait on that man hand and foot," Susan snapped back.

"He does us the same way," Diana indignantly returned.

"Yeah, I'll bet." Then before Diana could respond, "I'll take this in to His Majesty," Susan said as she started off with the cart.

"Momma, if you're intending messing with Jeff, be warned; he'll mess back."

"Now why would I mess with His Highness?" Susan replied as she pushed the cart out into the hallway.

"There's going to be trouble," Helen said as she turned back to her meal preparations.

"Well, at least there's just Frank in there to see her get her comeuppance," Diana said as she started for one of the big refrigerators.

"I know that Evie and her family went to visit Kim's mother and dad, but where did Bill, Kathy and Jill go?" Caitlin asked.

"They went to Winter Park," Joyce spoke up. "I think they're going to eat out and catch a movie. They have to go back to work tomorrow."

"We hate to see you guys go back to work," Jennie said as she hugged a passing Caitlin.

"Shhh," Joyce said, laughing. "Don't let Jeff hear you say that. It's all the excuse he needs. I was beginning to think we would have our first marital fight about that, but he gave in, finally."

"He's not the only one who's worried about your going back on the street. We all are."

"Now you know how I've felt ever since she took that job," Caitlin said.

"Yeah, well, one needle stick from the wrong patient and you have HIV," Joyce said. "A patient lurches and slings his arms at the wrong time while you're giving a shot and you're history. That scares me to death for you."

-------

In the living room, Susan walked in the door pushing the serving cart. Frank took a breath and waited.

Stopping in front of Jeff, Susan gave an abbreviated curtsy. "Coffee for the master," she said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

Jeff raised an eyebrow for a second and just looked at her.

Susan poured a cup and handed it to Jeff. Pouring a second cup, she handed it to Frank without comment. Turning back to Jeff, "Will that be all for His Highness?" But her pronunciation of Highness sounded more like Hindass.

Turning, she started back for the kitchen, a smug look on her face. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder as she was spun around. Faster than she could believe, Jeff bent forward, reached around her to put a hand firmly on her ass, and stood. She grunted when her weight slammed down on her belly as it came to rest on his right shoulder.

She tried to kick and squirm off, but his left hand held her legs to his chest with immobilizing force. Jeff bucked her up with his shoulder, shifting her weight, his other hand remaining firmly on her ass. Hanging down his back, she started to loudly protest when the hand on her ass withdrew for a second, then came back with a loud 'crack.' She hissed in a breath while staring at a grinning Wainwright, her struggles ignored by her son-in-law.

She took a breath to scream out at Jeff, but he interrupted her before she could do it. "Just saving you a walk back to the kitchen, my favorite mother-in-law. Raise too much fuss and I'll blister that ass for you."

While her befuddled mind was working on the problem, he walked down the hall, palmed the kitchen door hard open and deposited her on her feet. Without comment, he turned and left.

Diana stood smiling sweetly at her mother. "Told you not to fuck with him," then as if nothing had happened, continued, "Melissa needs some help with the rolls." The Queen Bitch turned and went on about her business.

Arlene walked by and openly stared at Susan's nipples that were showing through her top, despite the bra. "Isn't he great?" the teenager said as she continued on her way.

"Come on, Meemi. I'll show you what we need done," Melissa said.

Rubbing her ass, wondering what she had gotten into, Susan walked over to the counter where Melissa was making biscuits.

-------

The wives had decided to put the food on the table instead of using the steam table. Jeff took his place at one end, while Diana took the other end. Wainwright said the blessing and everyone began to pass food around. Susan had expected a smart remark, or something of that nature from Jeff or Frank, but they both treated her with courtesy, and the two men soon became involved in a technical discussion that left her far behind. Susan glanced at her son-in-law. Although she had known him for years, he was somehow ... different. Once Diana and Jeff had returned from his time in the military, Susan, thankful to have her granddaughter back, had tried to ignore Jeff, and once he became a freelance engineer, he was gone so much of the time that ignoring him wasn't hard. His sleeping with her granddaughter wasn't something easy to ignore, though — far from it. But Arlene surely didn't act coerced, and neither did Ann, Jennie and Melissa. Begrudgingly, she admitted to herself that they acted like well-adjusted teenagers. Overhearing part of the conversation, though, she wondered if normal teenagers discussed the pros and cons of two three-D drawing programs while they ate their meals.

"Come on, Mom, you don't have any fried chicken on your plate," Jeff said as he held the platter for her. "I think I remember that you like breasts. Di said you taught her to cook chicken, and it's darn sure good."

Susan took a breast and thanked him. Just as she started to look away, she thought he winked at her, but it was hard to tell; it wasn't a full wink. Is he being smart with me, or is he just being nice? I never could figure him out, even when he was still in high school. I can't believe he kissed me like that. And my daughter instigated it. She has all these ... sister-wives, as they call each other. How can she put up with that? But the chicken is good; tastes just like mine does. Hmmm, I think that woman over there by Diana — what was her name? Oh, yes, Helen. I think she was the one who actually cooked the chicken. I know she heard Jeff, but she didn't take credit for her efforts. Strange.

Discreetly looking around her, she continued to wonder as she ate. I've never been in a hotel, or whatever this is, that looked half as good as this place does. This kitchen is enormous, and no kitchen I've ever seen could faintly compare to its beauty. You could feed a hundred people out of here. But then again, I guess it was designed for that. It was originally Wainwrights' conference center, or whatever he called it. Diana calls it the retreat.

Time and Susan's thoughts drifted on.

-------

Susan stood in the "temporary" classroom. "This is temporary?" she asked.

"Well, Dave spiffed it up a bit for us and put in a door so we could spread out into the room next door. We got rid of the big tables and brought in the furniture. But this is nothing compared to what we're going to move into shortly," Ann said.

"Helen can do anything," Jennie enthusiastically broke in. "She's a genius. And Laura is too as far as computers are concerned. But you know about that. Helen and Laura are working on the system in the retreat. It's all hooked up to our security system. They're trying to create a system with intelligence. So far, it's pretty scary. We can talk to it almost like you would a human, and Laura says that in a year or so it will be a lot smarter. Ann helps them some, and they are teaching us several programming languages."

Grabbing her grandmother's hand, Arlene said, "Come on. Let's go upstairs so we can show you where our real classrooms are going to be. It's pretty messed up right now, but it won't be long before they're done."

Eventually, they wound up exercising in the basement after stopping by to change clothes. Arlene said, pointing, "The free weights are in that room over there," then opening another door, "but the machines we use most are in here."

Susan walked through the door and stopped as she stared into the large room filled with machines. "My gosh," she stammered.

"Yeah," Arlene laughed. "Mr. Wainwright doesn't tend to do things halfway."

"Most professional places have less than this." Walking over to a treadmill, Susan looked at the screen, then at a nearby bike. "These are better than the ones where I work out — far better." She looked back at Arlene.

"Meemi, we're rich, but we're paupers compared to Mr. Wainwright. He built this place, and nothing was too good for it. The whole place is like this room. Everything is the best there is — everything."

"I've never had much, as you girls well know. Now that my husband is dead, I have less. I'm..."

"You have now, Meemi. You're with us now. We're not going to let you leave."

"We'll see," Susan said. "Now let's try out some of this stuff. What's that over there? I've never seen that machine before."

They had exercised for forty-five minutes, then showered. Susan could tell the girls had just been coasting along as they worked out with her. On the treadmills, they had run at her speed, and stopped when she did — same thing for the Stairmasters. Then as she walked out of the shower, she realized she was alone. Dressed, she sat in a nice chair to put on her shoes when the door opened and the three new girls came in, then walked up to her.

"Hi. I'm Nat."

"I'm Nicki."

"I'm Whitney."

Susan chuckled as she leaned back. "We were introduced," Susan said. "Although, I might mix you two up," she said as she eyed the twins, "I do know all your names.

"Sorry, we were used to being ignored at the orphanage. It's hard to become accustomed to how nice people are here."

"All of you were in an orphanage?" Susan said, frowning.

"Yeah," Nicki replied, "and we were kidnapped by a really bad man."

"He raped us," Whitney said, matter-of-factly.

"But Major Matthews and his..." Nicki stopped.

"Team," Nat supplied.

"Yeah, he and his team came and rescued us."

"Major Matthews? I thought he was a captain when he was in the military. He's been out for a while, though?" Susan said, a question in her voice.

"Well they called him Major," Nat insisted, "and they wore these black ... uniforms with a lot of pockets and equipment hanging all over them. We were locked in a big cage in this dark room. The cage was made of iron bars. Doctor Ingles took our clothes and raped us. He did it several times. We don't know how many days we were there because we never knew whether it was daylight or dark outside. Doctor Ingles said the room was underground."

"Then we heard noises," Nicki broke in. "We heard Major Matthews talking. Ordering someone to cut through the bars and for someone to get some sheets to cover our nakedness. The lights came on and Kayla came in the cage and held us. Kayla wore one of those black uniforms, too. All those men were there with Major Matthews, and they had these big helmets on with these kind of goggle-like things over their eyes. They pushed them back on their heads when the lights came on, but we saw them use those things when they went outside the house later on, then again when we drove up the street in the snowstorm without the SUV's lights on. Most of them carried some kind of gun like you see in the movies — well sort of, anyway."

Nat had her turn. "Major Matthews wants us to call him Jeff, but it's hard to do. It doesn't sound respectful. We were given to him by some general who runs the base. Kayla told us that we wouldn't have to go back to the orphanage or that awful foster home. We think the foster home people sold us to Ingles."

Whitney broke in, "Kayla said that we belonged to Major Matthews now, and we want to be his because he killed Ingles for what he did to us, and Major Matthews held us in his arms and cried. I would have shot that bad doctor if I could, but I didn't have a gun, and besides I don't know how to shoot one if I did. But he was an evil man. We're glad he's dead. They don't think we know about Major Matthews killing him, but we overheard two of his team talking while they thought we were asleep. They really like Major Matthews, and it's hard for us to call him Jeff."

"That general sent Kayla to help take care of us. They thought we would be messed up by that evil man, but we're used to bad things happening to us. We're doing fine. We even hugged Mr. Wainwright a little while ago, even though he kinda reminds us of that bad doctor. But Mr. Wainwright is a lot bigger than him. They both have a little gray in their hair, though," Nat finished.

Susan didn't know what to think about the things the girls had just said. So Jeff is still in the military. That explains a lot about how he used to disappear every now and then. I wonder what he does. Ironically, she kept thinking about the old adage, "Out of the mouths of babes."



-------

Chapter 48


In the basement exercise area, Susan, redirected the conversation, wanting to know more about the girls being raped. "You say you were raped? All three of you?"

The girls nodded their heads.

"Oh, my. You poor darlings," she said as she stood and tried to gather them all in a group hug. Eventually she took each girl's face in her hands and touched her forehead to theirs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." After a while and many tears between them, she sat down again, still occasionally dabbing at her eyes with the tissue that Whitney had gotten from the bathroom. "Are you okay ... I mean..."

"They checked us out at the hospital and said we were fine. They gave us something that would keep us from ... well, you know..."

"So you wouldn't be pregnant?" Susan quietly supplied.

"Uh huh," from Nat.

The girls pulled up seats of their own, as close as they could all get to Susan. "So you think Jeff, uh, Major Matthews, killed this person who raped you?"

"Yeah, that's what we overheard from two of the guys talking. Captain Madison was there, too. But we didn't see him much," Nat said.

"Captain Madison? How do you know he's a captain?"

"Because he flies a plane for Mr. Wainwright. He's captain of the plane," Whitney said matter-of-factly.

"Oh. So Jeff and this 'team' came to rescue you?"

The girls looked at each other. "We're not sure," Nat said. "They seemed surprised to see us. We think they were after the doctor and just found us."

"We kinda think it has something to do with Jill. We heard Jill thanking Captain Madison for killing the doctor, but we think she's wrong. We think it was Major Matthews who did it. Everybody did what Major Matthews told them to do, and when we got back to that base, some of the people there saluted him and called him Sir, really loud. We heard this other man who was dressed differently, tell Major Matthews, 'well done.' One of the people there told us that the man was a colonel."

"And how do you know that Major Matthews was to take care of you, and that this general sent you here?"

"Because Kayla told us so," Nicki said. "She said Major Matthews was to be our guardian, and he told us the same thing. But we came down here to ask you something," she went on before Susan could ask any more questions.

"And just what might that be?" Susan said as she smiled at them.

Nicki looked at her sister, then at her friend. "You do it," Nat said.

"Yeah," from Whitney.

Nicki hesitated, then leaning forward, "Uh, can we call you Meemi, like Arlene and the other girls do?"

"Sure," Susan said without hesitation. "I think that would be fine."

"Ask her," Nat said.

Nicki looked embarrassed. "Uh, that didn't come out just the way I wanted it to. I didn't say all of it. Uh, you know we're orphans. We've never known our mother or father. A lot of the other kids there are the same way. There are some, though, who knew their parents, and the kids wound up in the orphanage because their parents died and there was no one else in their family to take care of them. I guess that would be worse than not knowing your parents at all. I mean, they used to have a family and stuff, then their mom and dad got killed and they wound up with us. Those kids were always sad. But..."

"Ask her," came from an impatient Whitney.

"I'm getting to it. I'm getting there. Just wait." Nicki turned back to Susan, took a deep breath and said, "Diana is going to be our mother, and Major Matthews is going to be our father. Uh, we've never had a grandmother either. Could you ... I mean will you... be our Meemi?"

Susan opened her mouth to say she had already answered that when it dawned on her that they weren't asking if they could call her Meemi, they wanted her to be their Meemi. "Well, I, uh ... I'm only going to be here a couple of weeks. I..."

Susan sat staring at the three girls sitting before her — all now leaning intently forward. They were obviously very stressed, their faces showing deep concern and a longing that tore at her heartstrings. "Babies," she said, unknowingly calling them the same thing Jeff had, "I won't be here. I live in Miami. I transferred down there from Georgia after my husband died. I couldn't stand to live in the house with all the memories. It took quite a while to even fly from Miami to Denver. I got there late last night then stayed in a hotel until this morning. What good would a grandmother be that is so far away?"

The girls' look of anguish progressed to a look of sorrow. Tears again trickled down their cheeks. Susan stood and pulled them up into a hug again. "I have to go back. That's where my job is," she said, staring each one in the face. "I received a little insurance money when my husband died, but we had bills ... Uh, Diana has sent me a lot of money, but I just put it in another account and left it. I can't spend it. It isn't right. Jeff and I have never really gotten along. It seems wrong to take his money. So I have to go back to my job when my vacation is over."

"But, but ... We could write to you, and maybe talk to you on the phone every now and then, couldn't we?" Nicki asked. "Please be our grandmother. Arlene was so happy when she realized it was her Meemi in that car coming up the driveway. You'll be just as far away from her as you are from us. If you can be her grandmother, why can't you be ours?"

Susan hesitated a moment, her mind awhirl, then, "I'll..." She took a ragged breath, "I'll be your Meemi. I'll be proud to be your Meemi. We can talk on the phone. I have plenty of minutes on my cell phone and it won't cost anything to talk to you. We can e-mail, too."

The door quietly closed behind them as Meemi stood hugging her new granddaughters.

-------

Diana started into their suite just as Jeff was coming out the door. She put her hands on his chest and said, "Back up."

He did so, laughing. "Okay, what's up? I'm just headed to run a few miles on the treadmill. I'm tired of busting my ass trying to run in the snow. No matter how many times I use the plow, there is still packed snow left. I can't sand the whole mountain. And besides, even if I did, I would have to do it again in a couple of days. I'm not getting enough exercise, so I've psyched myself up to using that damned treadmill again. Those things are boredom personified."

Back in the sitting room of their suite, "Not now. You need to wait awhile. Sit; we need to talk."

Jeff did his evil grin imitation as he sat on the couch. "That little phrase got your ass in trouble, remember?"

"You want something to drink?" she asked, ignoring him as she went over to the refrigerator.

"Yeah, I guess. Just give me some water," he answered, a little concerned when she didn't respond to his remark.

Diana took a bottle of water out for him and a small bottle of grape juice for herself. After handing her husband the water, she sat beside him, although she was wont to sit in his lap almost every time she had the chance. Jeff noticed that, too, but said nothing as he popped the cap off his bottle, then tossed the cap seemingly negligently across the room to land in the waste basket. He took a big slug of the water and waited.

Diana opened her grape juice and put the cap on the coffee table in front of them, but sat staring instead of taking a sip. Finally, "I walked into a conversation a few minutes ago when I went looking for my mother."

Jeff chuckled and crossed his legs. "She's badmouthing me about all the women I'm abusing?"

Diana seemed to ignore him again, then, "She just agreed to be your new charges' grandmother. Wasn't her idea, though. They practically begged her."

"I'll bet that went over well," he joked. "I remember her starting that Meemi thing when Arlene was just a baby so Arlene wouldn't grow up calling her Grandma, or Granny. She surely didn't want to be a grandmother then."

"But she has been," Diana broke in. "She's been an excellent grandmother."

"Yeah, I agree. No doubt about that. Let's see, she had you when she was what? Sixteen; I think I remember her saying that. Then you had Arlene when you were thirteen, just shy of fourteen. I guess she didn't want to be a twenty-nine-year-old grandmother. The Meemi stuck, though. What did she say to the girls?"

"Oh, she gave them some excuses, but she accepted before long. They were all hugging each other and crying when I left, but ... it's those 'excuses' that I want to talk about."

"What excuses? What's the problem..."

"My mother has been lying to me. And she's been doing a good job of it, too. Heck, I thought she quit her job when she got Dad's life insurance money and she moved to Florida. Then we sent her money right after we got out here. I've checked her bank account regularly, as you know. When it begins to get low, I've transferred money into her account."

"Yeah, I know all that, Di. What's the rub?"

Diana turned to fully face her Prime. "She hasn't spent any of the money we've sent her. She apparently somehow realized that I was checking her account balances. Heck, she gave me her passwords so I could transfer money into her account. I guess she figured I would check on her balances. She's been transferring the money we sent her into a separate account."

"So? It's her money. What's wrong with that?"

"Like I said, she hasn't spent a dime of it. She's just put it into another account. She's still working for the same company. She got them to transfer her to their Miami location. She never worked until Dad died, so her job doesn't pay well. She's little more than a clerk. Jeff, she's struggling. I heard her say — well, imply — that she spent most of the insurance money on bills she and Dad had. I think she lied about how much the insurance was, also. I suspect it was a lot less than I thought. I guess she didn't tell us because she thought ... Oh, heck, I don't know what she thought. My mother isn't living the life I assumed she was. While we're living here in this ... mansion, she's still working a clerk's job and living on that little bit of money."

"Why in the fuck isn't she using the money we sent her?"

"Because it's your money we sent her. I heard her tell the girls that the two of you never really got along, and it wouldn't be right to use your money because of that."

"But why didn't she just say so? Why go to the bother of transferring the money to another account?"

"I suspect she was keeping the money separate so she could give it back to us. Jeff, I check her account regularly. She doesn't just transfer the whole thing at one time. I would have noticed and gotten suspicious. She obviously thinks I'm checking on the balance, because she moves the money out in small enough increments and spaced over time so I won't figure out what she is doing."

"But why would she do that? It doesn't make sense."

"Pride, My Love. Pride," Diana answered, the sparkle of tears in her eyes.

I do not understand women,  Jeff thought.

As if Diana could read his mind, "Think about Jesse and what we're doing to get him to accept something from us. And we're still worried that when he gets the truck, he will be so mad at us that he'll never come around us again. So don't start with that 'I don't understand women' thing you always spout off about."

"Di, you scare me when you do that."

"Do what?"

"Fucking read my mind."

Diana giggled at him. "Oh, I wish I could. I would love to know what makes you tick, but instead I just know you. When you get that look on your face, I'm usually pretty sure what you're thinking. And right now, You're thinking about relieving some of the pressure in these," she said as she pulled up her top. "See, I'm a mind reader," she giggled as his mouth soon tugged at her right nipple. "Oh, shit, that feels good."

A little later, the Queen lay with her head in her husband's lap, "I've been thinking."

"Thought I smelled something burning."

Diana smiled up at him. "Seriously, we need to get Mom to stay with us."

"Gun battles at dawn in the long hallway," Jeff chuckled as he pretended to look into a crystal ball. "That woman really does not like me. Plus, she has new ammunition to feed her anger. Now, I'm screwing her granddaughter, not to say anything about cheating on my wife with a bunch of hussies."

"Well, four of those 'hussies' are near and dear to her. She's been with Ann, Melissa, and Jennie so much over the years that I suspect she loves them almost as much as she does Arlene. She certainly isn't going to get any sympathy from them when she starts to criticize you for having multiple wives, plus ... she would be criticizing them as well. She's also been friends with Laura a long time; had to be as much as she took Ann around with her. So there's actually five that she dare not say too much about you in front of. And she knows I'll get my panties all bunched up if she says too much about you where I can hear."

Diana moved her head back and forth in his lap feeling his hard cock with the back of her head. Jeff adjusted his dick through his jeans, thinking it was bothering her.

She pulled a moue. "I was enjoying that."

Jeff chuckled. "Resting your head on a hard lump in my jeans can't be comfortable. Now what are we going to do about this?"

"Well, we could go in the bedroom and I could lean over the bed," she deliberately misinterpreted.

Jeff tweaked her nose with a couple fingers, chuckling. "That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Mom told the girls her vacation was up in a couple of weeks and she had to go back. She mentioned having to save money for a while in order to get the airplane ticket to come out here. Oh, Jeff, this is not right. I will not let my mother struggle while we live in the lap of luxury. Damnit, I thought I had this covered when we started sending money to her. She acted like everything was perfectly fine. Oh, shit, I guess I did push a bit to get her to take the money, though. I feel like such a fool."

"Join the crowd," Jeff said.

"So what do we do, Jeff?"

"I just asked you that."

"Shit."

"Shit."

-------

Diana caught up with Arlene in the hallway. "Where are you going?"

"Well I had the urge for a bowl of..."

" ... I need you to do something for me. Whitney, Nat and Nicki are hanging around your grandmother, and I need to talk to her in private. I don't want to hurt their feelings, so would you..."

"It'll cost you," Arlene broke in. Then giggling, said, "We haven't shown them the game room yet. Give me a couple of minutes and you can have Meemi. Something that I need to worry about?"

"I hope not. I've just found out she hasn't been spending any of the money we've sent her. I'll let you know what happens."

"That's odd," Arlene answered. "Okay, let me get the girls."

Seven laughing girls came rushing by a few minutes later, all headed for the game room. Arlene winked at Diana as she passed. As Susan wandered out of the living room a moment later, Diana grabbed her hand. "We need to talk."

"That sounds ominous," Susan said.

Diana stopped for a second, remembering her husband's reaction. "Gosh, I guess it does, but it's something you hear all the time. I guess it's how you take it. It's nothing bad. I just need to ask you some things. Come on."

Seated in her favorite alcove a few minutes later, she took her mother's hand again. "First, I need to apologize."

"What for? You have been great to me."

"I walked in as you and the girls were talking in the exercise room a little while ago."

Susan just looked at her.

"I stayed to listen." As Susan started to say something, Diana quickly went on. "Agreeing to be their Meemi was a sweet thing for you to do."

"Oh, Diana, what they told me almost broke my heart. How could that ... animal rape them and keep them in a cage?"

"That's certainly bad enough, but I'll tell you about Jill later. If anything, her situation was worse. But let's change the subject for a little while." Diana sat looking into her mother's eyes for a moment. "I also overheard you telling about not spending the money we have been sending you — and you implied some things about your financial situation. Mom, we thought you were living in style. You've told me what a good time you were having. You've mentioned boyfriends. And Flora (Susan's cousin) said you were having sex with several men. Why don't I believe that? And again, why aren't you spending the money we sent you?"

Astonishing both of them, Susan began to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Susan choked out, fighting to stop crying. "I guess my emotions are still raw from hearing what happened to those sweet girls."

Diana took some tissue out of her pocket and gave it to her mother, then hugged her. The Queen Bitch began talking about inconsequential things for a few moments to give her mother time to settle down. "Let me run get us something to drink."

"No need," Helen said as she walked up with two soft drinks.

Diana smiled at her. "Thanks, Sister."

Helen leaned over and hugged Susan. "We love you," she whispered in her ear, then walked away.

"That surely was good timing." Wiping her eyes again, "It's hard to not like these people," Susan sniffed, "commune or not." She choked out a giggle after the comment to let Diana know she was kidding about the commune.

A few sips of the drinks, some more idle chitchat and Susan looked at her daughter. "I hoped you wouldn't find out about the money until I had a chance to talk to you face to face, but I guess you overheard..."

"I heard everything you told them. What's wrong Momma? We were trying to take care of you."

"Diana that money..."

" ... Came from my husband. Yeah, I heard what you said downstairs. But getting money to you was one of the first things on Jeff's agenda when he sat down to pay off our bills. I mentioned it, but he was enthusiastic about it. Momma, you've got to get past his taking my virginity and impregnating me. You've groused at him every chance you got for all those years. Yeah, I'll admit that most of the time, you held it down to a roar, but what you did in the living room when you first got here was..."

" ... Inexcusable," Susan broke in with a sniff. Then with another flood of tears, "I miss Jacob. And I set Flora up with that..."

" ... Bullshit," Diana volunteered.

"Yeah," Susan chuckled, "bullshit about my fucking everything that had a prick. She kept nagging me about getting laid. I had told her that I was dating, and she kept on nagging me, so I told her what she wanted to hear. But I've dated four guys since I've been in Miami. I've had some good times. I ... One of the men works where I do. He has a really good job. He's one of the top supervisors. Well, anyway, he asked me out. We ate at a nice place, then went for a walk on the beach at night. I took my heels and hose off and he took his shoes and socks off. He rolled the legs of his pants up and we walked in the surf. He still got his pants a little wet, but we laughed and held hands like teenagers.

"The next date with him, we went bowling, then got a hamburger afterward. He took me home, and I asked him in. I had every intention of fucking his brains out. He's a really nice looking guy and I think he liked me. We sat on the couch and watched TV for a little while with me leaning against him and his arm around me. We kissed and the kisses were becoming more passionate. He very gently caressed my breast, and it felt good. After a while, he slipped a hand under my top, then first thing I knew, he had the top up and my bra unhooked. Only thing was, when he put his mouth on my nipple, I freaked."

"Oh, Mom," Diana sighed.

"Yeah," Susan hissed shakily out. "As soon as he sucked, I remembered your dad nursing my milk. I'm sure the guy thinks I'm a prick tease. I just came unglued and started bawling like a baby. I think I really scared him. I guess he had visions of me calling the police and charging him with attempted rape or something. I finally got it together enough to tell him what was wrong. I apologized to him again the next day at work, but he's avoided me like the plague since then. I surely can't blame him. That's the only time I've tried to have sex with a man since Jacob died."

"Oh, Mom. I hurt for you."

"I miss him," Susan sniffed. "I thought it would get better, but I think of him every night when I go to bed. I'm becoming a worse bitch than I used to be."

"Well, Jeff will be pleased to hear about that," Diana laughed.

"You've got to admit that your lifestyle is a bit different," Susan chuckled through her tears, then wiped her eyes again. "Oh, crap, I'm laughing and crying at the same time. I'll tell you one thing though, that husband of yours is stronger than I thought he was. I mean, he's obviously muscled up, but I couldn't even move when he held me on his shoulder. And I swear he's taller than he used to be, and I always thought he was tall. He acted as if I weighed nothing. Nothing. And he swatted my ass, hard." Chuckling for a moment, she continued, "And I enjoyed the whole thing."

Diana sat there with a silly grin on her face.

"What?" Susan said.

"If you think a ride on his shoulder is fun, I got one not long ago and it ended with me thrown on the bed on my hands and knees with that big cock of his rammed up me."

"Diana! Such a slutty mouth."

"Maybe so, but I passed out twice from the orgasms. Of course I always do that, but these were even more intense."

They sat quietly for a moment, each with their own thoughts, then, "Mom, you need to make peace with my husband. He really is a nice guy. I just told him about the money. He's as concerned about you as I am. Mom, we don't want you to go back to Miami." Susan took a breath to answer negatively, when Diana hurriedly went on. "You have nothing in Florida. I know you went down there to try to get away from the memories, but obviously it hasn't worked. Why not be out here with your granddaughter? With all your granddaughters. All seven of them. You know that Melissa, Ann and Jennie love you so much it hurts, and you've just told the others you will be their grandmother. Why not make it real? Be here with them."

Susan leaned back into the seat for a minute. "Diana, I don't know whether I can stand being around Jeff knowing that he is going to take Arlene to your suite and..."

" ... Make love to her, Mother. Make love to her. Momma, please don't get hung up on that. She really is his wife, just like the rest of us are. There's so much you don't know. Please try to keep an open mind until we can tell you — convince you — of everything."

"Okay," Susan sighed. "I'll try. It's just..."

"Motherrrr," Diana said, dragging out the word. "Do I have to get him in here to kiss you again?"

-------

Jill found Jeff as he was making a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen. "I didn't get to talk to you much at dinner — well, not privately." Nodding, "Could I have a cup of that when it's done?"

"Sure," Jeff said, pulling a chair out for her. Knowing that she used cream in her coffee, he got some out of the refrigerator. There was already Splenda on the table. Shortly the coffee was ready and poured.

"What can I do for you, Lovely Lady?" he asked, sitting down.

Jill blushed. "Thank you, and again, thank you for taking me into your home, for healing me, for making me look so young, for taking care of that bastard Ingles, for ... well everything."

Jeff was sitting at the end of the table with Jill sitting on his right. He reached over and took her hand for a moment. "You've already thanked us. You're one of us now. Enough said."

"There will never be enough said," Jill replied as she stared at her coffee. "Thanks to you, I was able to give my 'virginity, '" she giggled, "to my husband last night. I feel better than I ever have in my life, and today, I'm forgiven for what I did with Ingles."

"Jill, you couldn't help..."

"I know that, but Jeff, it's ... terrible to be trapped in your own body. I couldn't stop myself, but I did do those things despite trying not to. Thanks to my husband — our husband — I feel forgiven now. I loved Kathy from the first time I met her. Having her as a sister-wife is perfect. And that brings me around to why we're sitting here."

Jill took another sip of her coffee, then smiled at Jeff. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm going back with Bill and Kathy in the morning. Bill hasn't hired another stewardess for the plane, and I asked him if I could be the one. Bill has carte blanche authority over the plane and crew, but I wanted Mr. Wainwright's approval, also, and he gave it — enthusiastically — so I leave with them in the morning. The job doesn't exactly require a Rhodes scholar," she laughed.

"Jill, I know you had a good job before. Couldn't you get that job back, if you want to work?"

Jill stared at her cup for a moment. "I probably could, but that's not the reason I want to be Bill and Kathy's stewardess. I need to be close to Bill right now. I'm better than I was a couple of days ago, but I don't think I could stand to be away from him for extended periods of time. Certainly not yet. While the two of you were gone, it was hard on me — really hard. It's not the money. With the money you got us from Ingles, we didn't wind up losing anything financially. But still, all that ... stuff happened to me and destroyed our marriage. Oh, I could go on and on, but you know all about it, anyway..."

"If you're asking for my permission, or blessing to be your husband's stewardess, you certainly have it, but just remember, this is your home now. We're your family. Bill is my brother Alpha and you're one of his wives. What is mine is yours. We'll miss you during the week. Diana and I had wondered if you would go with them. To me, what you have decided seems like a good thing, though, but remember, you can stay here — stay in your home right here if you like." Then to lighten the mood, "So I guess all of you will be back Friday night?"

"Yeah, that's the plan. Thanks Jeff. You make me feel special, but I do want to go with them. Mr. Wainwright has arranged for the copter to pick us up at seven-thirty in the morning. I've maintained my private license, and Bill says I should start working on the next phase of my flight training. It's thrilling to think I might be a commercial pilot one day, but that's for the possible future. I just want to be with my husband and sister-wife as much as I can. Particularly right now."

Then out of left field, Jeff asked with a grin, "Jill, is your ass still sore?"

Jill's face turned bright crimson, then she thought for a second, "No," she answered with wonder.

"Thought so," Jeff replied as he got up and walked out of the room.



-------

Chapter 49

Susan, her mood melancholy, had wandered the halls for a while now, occasionally stopping to sit in a window seat and stare out at the grounds, then after a while, walking on to idly explore as her thoughts, too, continued to wander. At the north end of the retreat, she found a little alcove with a window seat. Sitting, she slipped her shoes off and put her feet up on the lush leather. Most of the outside lights had been turned off, leaving only the security lights at various points about the property — pools of brightness on the intense white of the snow, those points of brightness interspersed with the darkness of the night. Her mind never seemed to be far from one glaring point: her son-in-law was sleeping with his own daughter — Susan's granddaughter. In one sense that gnawed at her soul, yet it was obvious that Arlene was happy. Susan had stopped in the game room a little earlier. Chirps, squeaks, gunfire, the roar of engines, and more filled the big room, all to the even noisier squealing accompaniment of teenage girls having a marvelous time.

Susan had remained just inside the door as she watched. After a time, she started to turn to leave when Arlene shifted slightly and smiled at her. Susan had the distinct impression that her granddaughter had known she was there all the time. Arlene appeared to be about the same as she had been in Georgia — scary smart, pleasant to be around — but still there was a subtle difference; something about her that made the teenager seem more grown up. The young girl she loved was there, but a little older. Begrudgingly, Susan realized that along with that girl was the confidence of a young woman — a young wife.

Susan had been raised in church, in a society that said incest was wrong. She had always believed that, yet ... her own daughter appeared to not care. Moreover, she even seemed to embrace it. Diana had told her that shortly after they moved to the retreat she had realized that Jeff was getting ready to tell her that he wanted a divorce because of what Diana had done with Jack. Susan hadn't heard the details of that yet, but it must have been bad. Bad enough that Diana and Arlene had cooked up some crazy scheme to keep Jeff from leaving. Diana had mentioned that Arlene was supposed to seduce Jeff. Susan guessed that Diana was going to use that as leverage to get him to stay, but the seduction had gone awry when Jeff had fought it.

If he had resisted, how then had Arlene become his wife? How had he talked Diana into allowing multiple wives for him? Susan had almost said whore in her mind, but balked at calling Ann, Jennie or Melissa that, let alone Laura. Laura was a good woman, using most anyone's values as the gauge. She had raised her daughter by herself, and Susan had never seen the first man around her. Just about the only friend Laura had during past years was Diana. Susan damned well knew that Diana wasn't lesbian, so that wasn't their tie. No, Laura wasn't a lesbian. And she had made her own way until she lost her job and came out here. Now ... Susan didn't know "now."

And what was all this crap about Jeff being an Alpha — a Prime? They had talked some about this Prime business, but it didn't make sense. Where did this idea come from? She had asked Diana that, but she had sidestepped the issue. If Diana believed all this bullshit about Alphas and Primes, why wouldn't she tell her where it came from? Yet, Diana's sincerity tended to reinforce her arguments. It was obvious that Diana believed it, true or not. And Jeff was ... different. He had always been a good-looking guy — tall, muscular, driven. She had read a novel once where the hero had a sense of ... command about him, as the author put it. She hated to admit it, but Jeff had something like that. Oh, he didn't seem to go around bossing everyone, but somehow, he didn't seem to need to. Everyone seemed to want to do what he asked, what needed to be done without his even asking.

Her thoughts continued to ramble. I haven't been here long, but Diana has said that she and her, uh, "sister-wives" never argue. Yet none of them seem meek to me, far from it. How then can they get along so well? Laura rose through the ranks of her company without having round heels. I'll never believe she fucked her way to the top — not Laura. No, she certainly isn't meek — a workaholic maybe, but never meek. And Helen, their teacher, the genius, is about as far from being meek as you can get. Yet the genius helped prepare supper just like the other wives, all of them laughing and kidding, then it suddenly came together the same time as if by magic when they put the food on the table. Afterward, they cleaned the kitchen with me virtually standing there with my mouth open as I tried to help. The girls are scary, too. One of them starts to say something and another finishes the sentence. Come to think of it, several of the women did that. And sometimes they say the same thing at the same time. How can Jeff stand that? It would drive me crazy.

Jeff — always back to Jeff. All his women seem to almost worship him, and I'll have to give the Devil his due, as the saying goes; my son-in-law seems to feel the same way about them. But the bastard is fucking my granddaughter. I want to cut his nuts out for that, but ... Oh, shit, I don't know what I want. Now I've acquired three new granddaughters since I've gotten here, granddaughters who are here because Jeff rescued them from some ... animal who raped them and kept them locked in a cage. They would still be in that cage, were it not for him. There I go with Jeff again. But the girls are serious about me being their Meemi. I can't let them down, but I live so far away. And I barely make enough to get by. I won't be able to buy them gifts, at least not anything worthwhile. Diana wants me to live out here — up here, I guess you would say since we're on a mountain. I can't move up here, though. I can't live in the same house with someone who is committing incest with my granddaughter. And no matter what he says, I can't believe he wants me here. I've used every opportunity to cut him down, and I've done it for years. Oh, most of the time, they were just little digs, but he knew — knows — how I feel about him.

Oh, crap, I'm so mixed up. And what about how he made me respond to him? If we had been alone, and ... and ... Would I have let him screw me? I'm forty-seven years old and he's, what, thirty-five I guess. Hmmm, he looks younger than that, even. But he couldn't have been interested in me, not with all those beautiful women and girls for his wives, but I felt his erection pushing against me. I was humping his leg, for goodness sake. I can't believe I did that. And Diana said she would have him fuck me on the table if I didn't admit that he turned me on — that I could feel his pheromones. Well, I don't know about pheromones, but he did something to me, else I would never have acted like that. I mean, he is a good-looking guy, but he's my son-in-law, for crying out loud. And he's almost young enough to be my son — almost. Shit, I'm screwed up. Maybe I need to talk to Arlene again.

Getting up, she headed purposefully down the hall — in the wrong direction. Realizing her mistake shortly, she reversed her course, eventually finding one of the main hallways. This place is a maze, she thought as she looked first one way, then the other. Orienting herself at last, she went looking for Arlene.

A few minutes later, Susan stopped in the doorway of the living room. Arlene and Ann were sitting at a little table near the front window, textbooks in front of them. Arlene put down a yellow highlighter and pulled a long cigarette out of a pack. The two continued their discussion as Arlene lit the cigarette, almost making a production out of it. Holding the cigarette in her hand, she blew smoke toward the ceiling as Ann slid an ashtray near.

"Hi, Meemi," both girls chorused as Susan came in.

Ann got up and moved a seat over. "Sit with us," she said.

Susan nodded to the books scattered about, "What's going on?"

"Studying for a calculus test," Arlene said.

"When's the test?"

"When we tell Helen we're ready for it," Ann replied.

There was quiet for a moment, then, "When did you start smoking?"

Arlene smirked, then paused to pull on the cigarette. Again blowing the smoke toward the ceiling, she finally said, dragging out the word, "Weelll... officially, a few months ago, but I've been stealing cigarettes from Mom since I was twelve."

"I never knew that," Susan said, crossing her legs at the knee, uncomfortable in hearing what Arlene said. Susan remembered Arlene occasionally smelling slightly of cigarettes, but at the time she had just thought it was because Diana smoked around her.

"How did you get away with it for that long?"

Arlene giggled. "Mom bought them by the carton. After she opened the carton, I would slide the packs out and take one from the back, then put them back just like I found them. By the time she got to the last packs, she wouldn't notice if just one pack was gone, since she's never been a heavy smoker and didn't use them up very fast."

Arlene thought for a moment, then continued, "Right after the episode started with Jack, Mom saw me with a cigarette, and she just left a pack out for me. There's more to it than that, but I'll tell you the details later when you're more convinced about other things," she finished.

"Baby, you shouldn't smoke. It's been five years since I've smoked, and I hope I quit in time. Cancer kills far too many people who smoke, or have smoked."

"That's true," Ann broke in, "but it doesn't apply to us. We could all smoke for the next hundred years and nothing would happen."

"Well, you would be a hundred and sixteen then," Susan laughed. "I doubt if any of us will live that long."

Arlene put her hand over Susan's for a moment. "I know you don't believe it now, but you might just be wrong there. Look at how young Mom looks..."

"And Jill," Ann added.

"Not to mention Helen and Laura; heck all of us," Arlene continued. "Meemi, we won't age unless we want to look older. Our cells will reproduce perfectly, just the way we were 'designed.' No disease will affect us; injuries will heal quicker. Smoking won't hurt our lungs..."

Perplexed, wondering if Jeff were feeding them this line of crap, "Where are you getting all this? I mean..."

"You'll start to believe, Meemi," Arlene interrupted, her enthusiasm growing. "Tomorrow morning when you wake up feeling better than you have ever felt in your life, you'll start to believe."

"What's this about tomorrow morning? Why will I wake up like you say? What's going to happen tonight?"

"I've said more than I should," Arlene said, her voice quieter. "I might just have gotten myself in a bit of trouble. But Meemi, I love you. We all love you, and I let my mouth get away from me."

Susan chuckled. "Well, I don't know what you're talking about when you say you may be in trouble, but I can guarantee there is one person in this grand building who does not love me..."

"You're wrong,  Meemi," Ann said. "You're wrong. Jeff might not love you the way he does us wives, but he respects you..."

"Bosh..."

"He doesn't talk about you behind your back, well other than a comment or two about dreading what you're going to do next. He's said a lot of good things, too," Arlene said.

Susan took Arlene's cigarette from her hand and put it out in the ashtray. "You two are rationalizing because you love both of us and don't want to see us fighting. That man detests me..."

"Meemi," Arlene broke in, fighting back a grin at her grandmother's attempts to make her quit smoking, "our husband is well capable of cutting you to verbal shreds if he wishes. If that doesn't work, he's also capable of turning you over his knee and setting your ass on fire — and I'm not talking about sexual play, either. He wouldn't do that when Pop was alive. That would have been an insult to your husband. But if I were you, I would be a little more careful now. Dad has changed since you've last been around him."

Arlene got up with the ashtray. Dumping its contents in the wastebasket, she took a tissue and wiped the ashtray clean before returning it to the table. Reseating herself, she looked at Susan. "Better pay attention to what Mom says. She wasn't kidding about having Daddy fuck you on that table. You squeaked by on that one, but Dad will usually do what Mom asks. If she thinks she can't convince you any other way that Dad is a Prime, she'll have him seduce you in front of us. If he dumps his pheromones with all of us around, he'll wind up doing all of us right after he screws you unconscious."

"You two really believe this, don't you?"

Arlene, looking exasperated, stared hard at Susan. "Meemi, he has given me orgasms just holding and tenderly kissing me. He doesn't need his pheromones; he does something with his mind that he calls a push. Instead of pushing his pheromones, he pushes something in our minds. It's like he turns on a switch. We orgasm whenever he wants us to. If he does it while he's making love to us, it is so intense that we pass out. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world. He's a Prime, Meemi. Alphas can do it too, once they've been enhanced and they learn how, but he's a master at it. Mom has already said she's becoming frustrated with you. I don't know whether Daddy will take you if Momma tells him to, but if she asks him sweetly, you might as well lie down and spread your legs."

Both girls giggled, obviously thinking Arlene's remark was a lot funnier than Susan did.

Susan could hardly believe that Arlene had talked to her that way, but then again, it was hard to believe she (Susan) had humped her son-in-law's leg in front of her daughter and granddaughter, either. By unspoken agreement they changed the subject, chatting about the recent snowstorms and the magnificent building they were sitting in, until it became obvious that the girls wanted to continue with their studies. Excusing herself, Susan headed for bed.

-------

Later —

"Daddy, I think I screwed up," Arlene said as they readied for bed. At Jeff's raised eyebrow, she looked down at the floor as she stood in front of him, then finally met his eyes, "Meemi was kinda bugging me about my smoking ... Oh, shit," she said, then went hurriedly on, "I told her she would feel better than she ever had in her life when she wakes up in the morning. I'm sorry; uh, we were talking about you and ... after I ran my mouth, she started acting suspicious."

Jeff hugged her. "No matter. I'll just wait a little later to go. Little One will make sure Mom is deeply asleep before I even get near the bed."

"Jeff, you're not going to sit in the corner again are you?" Diana asked, joining their conversation. "Kayla told me you laid next to her and held her hand while Little One worked on her, but you had said that you usually sat in the corner while Little One did her thing. I know you don't need much sleep, but that's ridiculous. No one here thinks you're a rapist," she said in jest.

"Don't bet on that," he said with feeling.

"Well, crap. She doesn't really think that. She's just hung up about the incest thing. Do you want me to go with you? There is plenty of room in that king-sized bed for the three of us if you insist on protecting my mother's virtue," she finished with a grin.

"'Protecting' her virtue," he laughed, "Earlier, you were threatening her with me fucking her on the table."

"Yeah, and I was scared she would challenge me on that."

Jeff grimaced. "You were afraid she would challenge you; I was scared to death she would."

Diana touched his arm. "And besides, you know I was kidding about the virtue thing. I just thought I might get some alone-time with my husband while Little One did her thing."

Jeff just looked at his wife. He wasn't yet up to making love to her while lying next to her mother. "We'll take our time making love tonight. She should be asleep by then, even if she is suspicious that I'm going to do something."

-------

Several hours later, Jeff very quietly opened the door to Susan's bedroom. Shit, she must have been waiting with the remote in her hand,  he thought as the lamps on either side of the bed came on.

"Come on in. No use in sneaking around. Come to rape your mother-in-law?"

Resigned, Jeff walked on in, the Healer held behind him. If I let Little One put her out now, Susan will still see her for a second or two.

"Mom, I wouldn't..."

"Of course you wouldn't. Incestuous bastard you may be, but I never really considered you to be a rapist." Susan had an inflection in her voice that made Jeff wonder if she were teasing him, or meant everything she said, and she went on before he figured it out. "With nine wives, I can't imagine how you even walk, let alone have the strength to come in here in the middle of the night. Did you service all your wives? Did you screw my granddaughter?"

"No," Jeff somewhat calmly replied — well, he tried to calmly reply. "I made love to your granddaughter as well as my other wives."

"And Nat, Nicki and Whitney?"

"I went by and kissed them goodnight."

"On the mouth, I'll bet."

"Yes."

"So, I'm to get up in the morning feeling better than I ever have? One of your inventions?"

Jeff now stood beside the bed as Susan sat leaning against the headboard with a pillow behind her back. She looked up at her son-in-law. "How long is this going to take, and do I have a choice?"

"With a young person in good health, not long. The older we are and the more we have wrong with us, the longer it takes. Are you telling me you would refuse perfect health? I won't force it on anyone."

"This is real?" Susan asked, but knew the answer.

"It's real."

Susan took a deep breath. "You would do this for me after all the times..."

"I impregnated your thirteen-year-old daughter." He thought about how hard it had been not to kill Jack. "I might very well kill someone who had done that to Arlene at thirteen ... unless they loved each other. Even then, I would be very, very displeased."

Susan just stared at him. Finally she blinked and said, "What do you want me to do?"

"Just slide down in the bed and lie flat. Close your eyes and you will wake in the morning feeling a bit different."

Susan slid down, continuing to hold the sheet above her breasts as she did so. "There are no side effects with this?" she asked, nervously.

"Yeah," Jeff teased, 'you'll dream of a blue light. But she had closed her eyes and Jeff brought Little One around in front of him. The blue rays bathed Susan and she slept.

After putting Little One under the sheet and on Susan's chest, Jeff walked around to the other side of the bed. Sitting down, he slipped his shoes and socks off, then stood and stripped off his pants, leaving his undershorts and tee-shirt on. Sliding under the sheet with Susan, he clicked the lights off with the remote and lay for a minute or two, thinking. He reached over and pulled Susan into his arms, took a deep breath and was asleep.

GEORGIA: MONDAY MORNING OCTOBER 7

Fred awakened to the smell of pussy. He flicked his tongue out and sure enough, there was the taste of pussy too. Shortly, there was a giggle in his mind. "Good morning, Husband."

Good morning, My Love,  he thought back. Nothing like the smell of pussy in the morning.

"I'll take your word for it," Brenda thought back with a chuckle.

"Ohhh," Carla said, not paying any attention to Brenda, although she had heard her through the physical contact, "do that some more."

Fred complied, then groaned into the pussy sitting on his face as Jessica slid her tight sheath down his morning hard-on. His bladder was full as the young woman rose up and slammed back down on him. The pleasure/pain soon became maddening as she increased her pace. He began thrusting upward, hoping to get her to come so he could go pee. Carla grabbed his head and wiggled her pussy on his mouth. He licked faster.

A few minutes later as both females slumped off of him, Fred struggled to his feet. Desperately squeezing his dick, he hurried to the bathroom, not even taking time to close the door. He was so full, that even with a hard dick, he soon managed to get a stream started, although his prostate protested all the straining. The women laughed as they heard his sigh of relief.

After washing his dick, he came back into the bedroom with a gleam in his eye, his cock leading the way. "My turn," Audrey announced as she positioned herself on the side of the bed, her ass in the air.

Later, showered, shaved and ready for the day, Fred sat at the table while the women prepared breakfast. "That was one great way to start the day," he said as they continued their conversation about their lovemaking.

"Yeah, well, if you don't mind my walking funny for a while, I sure don't," Audrey said. "Carla and Jessica recover quicker than I do."

"We'll get that fixed when we get back home," Fred mysteriously said.

Audrey didn't pursue the subject, since she had already tried before with no success.

"I loved those glass bottom boats at Silver Springs," Jessica said as she set the table.

"Boats, heck. That was the biggest catfish I've ever heard of. Didn't the guide say that the thing was something like eight feet long?" Carla added.

"Yeah, I think so," Fred agreed.

Jessica added her two bits worth, "And that pool of water where the catfish stayed was almost a hundred feet deep, yet the water was so clear that when I looked through the glass bottom I felt like I was standing on a cliff or something. I got a sensation of height that scared me. How can the water be that clear?"

For Fred, the tour through Silver Springs was a third experience, but still worth the admission price. "The guide said the water wasn't as clear as it used to be. Polluting chemicals from a paper mill."

"Well, it was clear enough to scare me when I looked down into it." Jessica let out a little giggle. "I liked coming here, even if that giraffe did scare the crap out of me when he stuck his head over my shoulder while I was eating that ice cream cone. He darn sure acted like he liked it though."

"Yeah," Audrey said, "you're just standing there chatting as you look at them while they're standing on the other side of that fence, then suddenly with that long neck of his, that big head is about six inches in front of your face. I think they have a sense of humor. That lady next to me about shit when she got her view. Besides, he had bad breath," she laughed.

"Well, he got me first. I had just turned around to tell you guys to come over when that head suddenly appeared next to mine. Two seconds later, that long tongue flicked out and I didn't have an ice cream cone any longer."

"So where are we going today," Fred asked as Carla put a platter of steak and eggs in front of him.

"Who cares?" Jessica said. "We'll be rolling south."

"Sounds good to me," Fred said as they joined hands for their blessing.

-------

Because of the time difference, Jeff was just waking up as Fred and his women pulled out of the RV park. Susan was still nestled on Jeff's right shoulder, Little One having long since returned to his back. He smiled as he thought about his mother-in-law nestled in his arms. She was lying on her back, so she didn't have her breasts pushed up against him as his wives liked to do, but still ... After a moment, he brought the lights up about half way and gently shook her. "Wake up, Mom. It's a new day," he whispered into her ear.

Susan blinked, then sighed as the world came back to her. "I dreamed about..." then she realized who had whispered in her ear. Overriding an instinctive recoil, she forced herself to remain still. Remembering what he had said he was going to do, she started to wonder how she felt when it hit her. "Oh. My. Gosh," she whispered.

"Yeah," Jeff said, "it's hard to imagine that we're supposed to feel like that."

"How did you ... I mean..."

"I can't tell you now. But the feeling doesn't go away. You'll feel like that from now on."

Susan sat up, the sheet falling away from her body. Her sleepwear was modest, and Jeff remembered that it was a gift from Diana and him a couple years ago. Modest or not, the thin material clung to her body, and the coolness of the room had her long nipples erect in seconds.

He couldn't help himself, his eyes locked on her breasts for a moment, before he quickly looked back at her face. Both blushed. "I apologize," he said, "you're..."

"I can't imagine your even looking at me with all those young women of yours."

"Helen is practically your age," Jeff said.

"She can't be."

"But she is. She's already retired."

"She looks thirty."

"You can too, if that's what you want."

"I don't understand this," Susan said as she took her face in her hands, but it wasn't a sign of displeasure, yet rather, she was trying to control her excitement.

"Kinda awesome, isn't it?"

Susan spun around and came to her knees, modesty forgotten. Forgotten also that this was her hated son-in-law. "How did you do it? How did you do it?"

"I ... can't tell you that."

"Why not. Why can't you tell me?"

"I can only tell my wives, and a couple other people found out."

"How did they find out?" Susan asked, a faint trace of shrewdness getting past her barriers.

Instead of Jeff brushing her off, for some reason he answered, "I was running one morning. Apparently a grizzly was out looking for breakfast. Since I was running, the prey instinct must have kicked in and he came after me. Long story short, I lucked up and killed him, but not before he had taken a good portion of my shoulder off. He got an artery and I was quickly bleeding to death. Somehow, Diana heard my cry for help and she and Arlene came after me. Arlene held the artery while Diana drove. Dave and Evie came to help when we got back to the retreat, and wound up seeing what healed me. The same thing that made you feel the way you do now..."

"So where is it?"

"Hidden," Jeff answered.

"I want to see the scar on your shoulder. I haven't noticed your favoring an arm or shoulder. Didn't an injury like that leave you with some sort of movement restriction or something?"

"No," Jeff said as he slid off the bed and stood with his back to her. He didn't have an erection, but he was only dressed in his undershorts and tee-shirt, so he kept his back turned as he started to reach for his pants.

Before he realized it, Susan reached over and yanked his tee-shirt to his neck, wanting to see the scar that she thought he was obviously hiding. He felt Little One move on his back.

There was a cut-off scream from Susan, the resultant sound more a squeak than anything else. "What ... What is ... that?" she managed to gasp out.

Jeff twisted around, jerking the tee-shirt out of her grasp and returning it to its proper position, his face radiating anger.

"I saw it. It moved. It looked like your whole back moved. It's alive. What is it?"

It was obvious that Susan was hanging on the ragged edge. Her reaction reminded Jeff of the time that Diana had almost put her hand on a giant spider in her flowerbed. She had jumped back shaking, whispering over and over, "Kill it. Kill it."

His anger washed away as he saw her face. "Easy, Mom. Just remember, she's the reason you feel so good right now. You'll never be sick again — never. Just take it easy."

"'Take it easy, '" Susan almost yelled. "That thing is alive and it's on your back. Is it feeding off you? Is it..."

Jeff reached out to take Susan's hand but she pulled back from him, getting off the bed. Jeff walked around to her, but stopped before he was too close.

"It's alive. It's some kind of alien isn't it? Some... creature?"

Despite the seriousness of the moment, Jeff was hard put not to laugh as he imagined telling her she was absolutely correct, that a "creature" from outer space was indeed riding across his shoulders and back. The shock of Little One's mental touch was enough to stop some comment that would probably scare his mother-in-law more, though. Instead, he snapped to Susan, "If you keep acting like that, you're going to hurt her feelings."

Seeing the look on Susan's face as the implications of what he said sank in, he thought, Susan is a smart woman. Does she think that humans are the only intelligent life in the universe? Shit, of course that's what she thinks. She has been raised to believe that we're the only intelligent life form anywhere, and I guess most of Earth's population thinks the same thing.

{{{ You might tell her that. }}} Little One broke into his thoughts.

When Jeff voiced his thoughts, a bit more tactfully, Susan just looked at him, then sat back on the bed.

"An alien. You have an... alien riding around on your back? You act like that's ... normal," she quietly said, forcing herself to not scream at him.

Jeff stepped over and picked up the phone. Punching the PA, he said, "Diana, I need you and Arlene to come to your mother's suite."

Jeff almost ended it with ASAP, but he didn't want to panic everyone else in the retreat. There was no need; Diana and Arlene came hurrying in a couple minutes later.

"What..." Diana started.

"She saw Little One on my back," Jeff interrupted.

"Oh, shit," mother and daughter said in perfect unison.

There they go again, Susan thought, despite the situation.

Diana made an instant decision. "Give Little One to me, Jeff."

Jeff hesitated. "She about freaked when she saw her on my back."

Diana held out her hand.

Jeff turned his back to her and thought to Little One. Shortly, Diana held the small alien in her hand, unconsciously petting her as she sat down next to her mother. "She can change her shape, Mother. This is her normal shape, but she likes to be part of us, so she rides Jeff's back all spread out so no one will notice. She's a telepath, and the only one she can really communicate with is my husband. But she loves us and we love her. She saved my husband's life and in another way she saved Joyce, and later, Kim. We owe her more than we could ever repay. The only thing we could do was to make her part of our family."

Susan sat up straighter, no longer having the feeling of revulsion she had experienced when she saw what appeared to be Jeff's back move. She's..."

"Somewhat translucent," Arlene supplied.

Jeff put his hand on Little One. After a moment, "She's asking that you touch her. She asked me to tell you that she is sorry you ... had problems with her appearance."

"You understand this creature?" Susan asked.

"Well, no. Not in the sense you mean. Word for word, certainly not. She doesn't send speech, but a much broader interpretation of things. I have the feeling that if I could really understand her, our communication would be hundreds of times faster than speech. Maybe more. For now, I receive whole concepts, then try to come up with words to describe what she sent. The other way around, when I try to talk back to her, is even more tedious. But we're gaining ground."

"So she wants me to touch her?"

"Yes. I guarantee she has no intention of hurting you."

Susan tentatively reached out a finger as Diana held Little One out. As soon as the finger made contact, Susan hissed out a sigh. "Oh, my goodness. I guess you're not lying. I feel ... contentment, maybe pleasure. The feelings are vague, and ... I don't have words to describe..."

"Yep," Jeff said as he chuckled.

Susan unconsciously did what everyone else usually did: she stroked Little One.

"She likes that," Jeff said. "She wants to feel she is part of us. Part of our family. Somehow that is a really big thing with her."



-------

Chapter 50

As soon as Susan walked in the kitchen door, Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa surrounded her. "How does it feel, Meemi?" Arlene said, a grin splitting her face, "How does it feel to feel so good?"

"I..." Susan started, then, at a loss for words, she grabbed Arlene and hugged her. "I almost feel like I'm floating. I feel ... different, beyond wonderful. I've never felt like this."

Ann whispered in Susan's ear, "Have you thanked him yet?"

Susan blushed as she looked over Ann's shoulder at Jeff who was now sitting at the head of the table. "Well, no. I got a little excited when I saw..."

"Arlene told us you about freaked out."

"Yeah, and I guess it was a little more like that," she admitted.

"We'll talk later," Arlene broke in as she pulled on Susan's hand. "Come on and help us with breakfast."

But Susan resisted. "Be there in a minute," she said as she looked at Jeff. That prick is sitting there knowing I have to thank him. Why didn't I do it in my suite? Now I have to do it with everyone listening. Still, the only ones here are his ... so-called wives. I might as well get it over with.

Walking over to Jeff, she took a breath to say her little speech when Jeff's hand shot up and grabbed her neck, pulling her down to him? His mouth took possession of hers for a good fifteen seconds, his tongue coming to tease, her efforts to resist his strength, useless. Then suddenly, she didn't want to. Although she didn't know it, he had pushed a small amount of pheromones for a few seconds. She shivered and he suddenly released her. "You're welcome, Mom," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Arlene grabbed her Meemi's hand again and dragged her over to the wives as Susan unconsciously touched her tingling lips. Diana grinned a little evil grin and quietly said, "I told you he would mess back if you messed with him. You started it. He has always had to put up with your shit before, but he doesn't now. And ... we told you he had changed. Either sit down and call a truce with him, or figure out your retaliation."

Before Susan could get a response out, Caitlin hurried in.

"Oh, don't you look nice," Laura said, then, "I expected you in your uniform, not a suit."

Caitlin stopped, looking a little embarrassed. "Well, this position went from Charge Nurse to Unit Manager, to whatever it is right now. They called and told me that we would be in meetings with manufacturers reps and drug reps for the next several days. I've already e-mailed a beginning list of things I think will improve the care we're able to provide our patients. During my first week, we're supposed to review basically everything they use in the hospital. I love nursing; I just hope they don't forget that," she fretted.

Jeff came up behind her and gently rubbed her ass. "Wife, you'll do fine, and I'm sure they won't forget you're an intensive care nurse. Can't ever tell, you might like this job even better. Sounds like you're pretty much going to get your way about what the hospital uses. From what you've said, there are plenty of nurses who would love to be able to choose the things they use instead of having some purchasing agent decide based on how many kickbacks he gets."

Kayla came into the kitchen and walked up to them. "Looking good," she said to Caitlin, then teasingly, "I see Hubby is still playing with your rear. What's the matter, didn't you guys give him enough last night?"

Caitlin smiled back at her. "Thank you for the compliment, and as to the other, if I had 'given him' any more, I would be walking funny when I get to work. That's all I need to start off a new job," she laughed.

"Well, at least they would know you're happily married," Kayla chuckled as she started around to hug everyone.

Jeff grabbed a carafe of coffee, cups and fixings, put them on a serving cart, and headed for the living room to get out of the way.

He met Frank, Bill, and Dave coming down the hall. Shortly, Jeff started a fire as Frank poured the coffee. After handing each man their cup, Frank pulled a seat over to join the others as the fire began to lick at the logs.

Jeff took his first sip for the day as he glanced over at Frank. "Not quite light out yet, but best I can tell, the weather looks okay, so I guess you're riding to the airport in the copter this morning."

"Yeah, I just talked to the pilot. He'll be here at seven-thirty like we planned."

"You mentioned that the new business was doing fine, and told us a little about it, but how about an update?"

Frank blew on his coffee, took a tentative sip and said, "I think I told you I ordered a second helicopter just like the one we have. Should be here in another week."

At Jeff's look, Wainwright went on, "Reed has already had to rent another copter to keep up with business. His wife has been flying the rental copter in the daytime and trying to do the books at night. I had Tingle send a couple people down to get the office started and to hire someone to run it on a full-time basis. Seems like the business has taken off," he laughed.

All the men chuckled at his little pun, then, "But how much did the advertising cost?" Dave asked.

"Oh, well, there's advertising, and then there's advertising. We did use the media a little, but I made a few phone calls and had Tingle make a few. I talked to the TV station manager and made a deal with him for access to their clip that showed the 'hard landing' that got Reed fired, plus the clip of the nurses, doctors and cops running beside Joyce's stretcher as they hurried to the trauma unit. My people made up a nice little presentation. I made some preliminary calls and had my people follow up with the presentation, but to use your expression, Jeff, it was shooting over a baited field since I had already talked with most of the executives.

"I had a discussion with Reed about pricing, but we wound up with a fee that's about one and a half times what the competition is charging. He was worried about not getting any business because of the higher cost. But the higher cost implies quality, which we have, both in the quality of the ride and the pilots. Most of the people we contacted don't have cash flow problems, to put it mildly, and hell, it's a business expense, anyway. Some of them had already signed up after my call and before our presentation even got to them," he laughed. "I've done quite a few of these people favors, or my company, or a subsidiary has. They might want another favor in the future. I didn't exactly call in a favor, though, just asked them if they had seen the thing on TV and reminded them that the pilot had been fired for coming in with a full-powered landing. They know damned well that I'm involved with the new company, so quite a few of the people I talked to now ride with someone who deserves a break. No big deal. Hell, in a couple of years, the company will be in the black — maybe even before then. And ... our passengers are riding in luxury with some very good booze in the bar."

Wainwright took another sip of coffee. "The crew I sent down will have a professional office up and running in no time, and they'll see to hiring whoever he needs to keep it that way. We have a contract with a reputable company for maintenance on the copters. I've told Reed that safety is first — absolutely first. Hell, with the flying he had to do for the hospital, landing in school yards, on highways, at night, and worse, this is a piece of cake for him. And that doesn't even take into consideration what he and his wife did in Iraq."

Just to gig Frank a little, Jeff asked, "I thought you didn't fly with anyone other than Bill, yet you're flying with this guy?"

Wainwright looked embarrassed for a minute. "Well, Bill has a rotary license, too. And besides, he's going to be there, just not necessarily in the cockpit, although, he has been flying left seat on flights out and back so far."

Bill spoke up. "I've watched him like a hawk. Reed is an excellent pilot, and even his 'hot landing' at the hospital was more of a loud landing that pissed off the administrator. The pilot didn't do anything wrong, and I imagine it was quite mild compared to what he had to do under combat conditions in Iraq. He had a doctor screaming at him to hurry, and he did. But ... in the process, he violated what the administrator considered to be one of his inviolable rules."

Wainwright broke in with, "I'll bet that asshole ex-administrator wishes he hadn't been quite so arrogant when we met with him in the hospital, though. Might still be the administrator. Damned if I was going to let that pilot go down for helping to save Joyce's life."

Dave winked at Jeff where Wainwright couldn't see.

Jeff caught Wainwright's eye. "You need to have those two pilots come up for a meal, and maybe stay the night with us. They need to be in good health," he added. Everyone there knew what he meant.

"Excellent idea," Frank agreed. "I'll set it up."

Dave brought his recliner back to a sitting position and reached for the coffee carafe. "You have two of your wives who will be using vehicles every day now, or at least five days a week. Heck, I guess Joyce won't have any off days for the foreseeable future. Maybe I need to go back to using my pickup for a while."

"Laura's SUV is still at the airport and we're using the copter now," Wainwright broke in. "Maybe we need to get the vehicle back up here."

"Yeah, and as sure as you do, the weather will be bad Friday afternoon and the copter won't be able to fly in these mountains. Best just leave the SUV there."

"People at the hangar are taking care of it for us," Bill chimed in. "They're starting it regularly so the battery doesn't go down."

Dave motioned with the pot, and Jeff held out his cup for a refill. "Thanks," he said to his friend. Then to everyone, "Problem already solved. We're getting two new Escalades, but I have no idea what color. I told the dealer anything except pink, Tonka yellow, and that bright lime green. They're going to be armored and are at the place that does that now. The dealer is also going to equip them with snow tires and send us an extra set of wheels with regular tires already mounted. The dealer said they were scheduled to come in shortly and he will deliver them as soon as they do, and oh yeah, they'll be keyed like the others so any of our Escalade keys will work with any of them."

"About time you took the armor route," Wainwright said.

"Yeah, you're right," Jeff replied.

When Jeff saw the look of amusement on Dave's face, Dave said, "Two more Escalades."

Jeff grinned and went on, "Hell, we're already being called a parade. The Escalades work for us, so I'm just going to stick with them. Of course I still like to drive my Expedition, but the women all like the Escalades."

"What about the threat of this prick — what's his name, uh, Hagewood?" Dave said after taking a sip of his coffee, I assume that's the reason for the armor."

Jeff took a deep breath and blew it out. "If I had my way, Caitlin and Joyce would stay right here with us, but ... that isn't going to happen. I've gone over firearm basics with Caitlin, and she has fired a few rounds. She has also shot a rifle when she was younger. As soon as you get the inside range done, I'll bring her up to speed." There was quiet for a moment, then, "Fuck, it worries me to death, but I can't talk them out of working. I was going to hire an escort for them or do it myself, but I ran into a firestorm. Joyce says it would be an insult to her with the position she has as deputy, and Caitlin says she'll just shoot the bastards on sight. I made them study the pictures of the two assholes that the sergeant sent us. I'll also put a copy in each of their new vehicles when they come in so they won't forget."

There was a pause while the men thought about things, then, "I have the original crews coming back this morning to start on the indoor range and the school rooms. I've already unlocked the back basement door for them and they know where to go, and to stay away from the first floor. We need to make sure all our women know that the crews will be here so..." Dave said.

" ... Jeff's women will stay out of the basement and the second floor so your guys don't walk around all day with bulges in their pants," Bill finished for him laughing.

"I'm glad you told your crews that," Jeff said, grinning. "It really hurts my feelings to tell all my women to put their bras back on. Oh, yeah, how about you and Evie working to update the computer as the crews arrive. I don't know the names of all the workers."

"Yeah, we've already talked about that. We'll take care of it."

"Come and get it before we throw it out," Diana said over the PA.

"Let's go," Jeff said getting to his feet. "I'm hungry this morning."

"And ... that's something different?" Dave laughed.

"I'm glad Jeff is paying for all this food," Bill said, mock-seriously, "Ever since he's done whatever he's done to me, I can't seem to get enough to eat, either."

"Yep, there is that," Wainwright laughed as he started for the door, "but in addition to the appetite, my dick seems to want to stay up all the time, too. I swear it didn't get up this much when I was sixteen."

"So when are you going to add some more pussy to your life?" Jeff kidded him as the men walked out of the living room together.

"Shit, Jeff. Don't even kid about that. I haven't even married Margaret yet. If I start talking about someone else, she'll kill my ass. But she's spent the last couple days on the phone making arrangements for the wedding. I'm sure any of your wives knows more about it than I do, though," he laughed.

"Well, I usually find out when I see my clothes laid out on the bed," Jeff said as he held the kitchen open for the others.

"That soon?" Bill chuckled sarcastically as he walked past, "Hell, they let me know a whole day ahead of time."

Margaret said the blessing this morning. Susan tried to frown at Jeff, but he grinned and winked at her. Flustered, she quickly looked away, then realized that her nipples were pressing against her bra. Speaking of bras, she thought, the only women who seem to be wearing them are the ones who are leaving this morning. With that thought came another feeling. Oh, shit, my milk feels like it just came down. It hasn't bothered me much since Jacob died. I haven't used the breast pump in ages, but I can feel wet on my nipples. This isn't a thin top, but the bra isn't really thick. Oh, maybe the wet won't show through. Shit, I didn't bring any nursing pads with me, let alone my breast pump. I know that Diana has pads, though. Surely I'm not going to have to use a pump. But I don't have Jacob to drain me anymore.

She sneaked a peek at Jeff. He just looked at my breasts. She risked a quick glance down at herself, only then realizing that her eyes now focused close up — something she hadn't been able to do without reading glasses in five years or so. My blouse isn't damp that I can see. But he just glanced at my boobs again. He knows. Somehow, he fucking knows. Shit.

-------

Breakfast over, as the women were cleaning up, Susan saw Jeff call Diana to the side to speak with her for a moment. Diana nodded and kissed him before he took Caitlin to the side of the room. He stood quietly talking to her for a while before briefly kissing her. As soon as Jeff turned to go find the men, Caitlin got a quick hug from everyone and headed out for her new job, wanting to check out the intensive care unit before her scheduled time for work. Alesha rolled out just behind her.

Not too much later, the computer announced the helicopter, and soon Bill and his wives, with Frank and Margaret, were on their way too.

-------

"Can't I do anything to help get them enrolled?" Kayla asked Helen as they stood near the doorway of the classroom watching the girls getting situated.

Helen chuckled. "No, like I said, the general faxed everything we needed along with a note saying he would 'grease the skids' should we have any problems. I used to be part of the school bureaucracy, and I've done them a few favors over the years. We're good to go."

Kayla sighed. "I was sent here to help with the girls, but so far, I've done little more than hug them from time to time, and sleep in the room next to theirs. Not that I'm complaining. I am in the building with the man I love..."

" ... And those girls think the world of you, as do the rest of us. Has he asked you to marry him yet?"

"No. We've talked about it. He's held me while we slept together at the base and for a few hours, night before last ... but you know about all that."

"He's just giving you time. I know he loves you. His eyes follow you when you're near, just like he does all of us. You're part of us — family. I don't know what you did back at that base, but we figured out rather quickly that you weren't FBI."

"I can't talk about any of that," Kayla broke in.

"I know," Helen answered, "but there is Little One, and she came from something Jeff did in the military. Jeff doesn't have any dumb wives. We have probably figured out more than he realizes we know. Just be patient with him, love us, and we'll continue to love you as well. Before you know it, you will be wearing one of these," she said, holding her left hand up a little to show the gold band.

Kayla sighed and leaned against the door facing. "I know," then more quietly, "but being around him makes me so... horny I can't stand myself," she finished, blushing furiously.

Helen chuckled. "We all know that feeling. But seriously, we'll send him around to relieve some of your tension. Oh, he won't do you until your wedding night, but the boy can surely use his mouth. We'll tell him to come visit you tonight while Little One is with the girls."

Kayla hesitated, "That seems so..."

"Nice," Helen broke in, laughing. Entering the classroom, she let the door close behind her.

Kayla laughed as she turned back down the hall. And I'm getting paid for this,  she thought.

-------

"Come on," Diana said as she grabbed her mother's hand. "Let's go to the bedroom. Jeff wants me to do something."

A few minutes later in the Matthews big bedroom, Diana pulled a couple of the comfortable seats near each other and motioned for her mother to sit. As Susan settled back, wondering, Diana cleared her throat, "Jeff told me your milk had started back."

A look of irritation flashed across Susan's face, but somehow she couldn't seem to maintain it, instead, she sighed, "How did he know? My bra was wet, but my blouse wasn't. He couldn't have seen anything. I saw his eyes focus on my boobs though. I was worried that my blouse was wet. As soon as breakfast was over, I changed my bra and put tissue in the new one to absorb the leakage."

Diana didn't respond to her mother's question, but rather, "Didn't you tell me that you've always had milk in your breasts?"

Susan looked at her daughter for a moment, then, "Yes, ever since puberty as you well know, since we've discussed it so much. What are you getting at?"

Diana smiled at her. "Just a little theory we've developed. Well, it came mostly from Little One. But let's not go into that now." Diana got up, then returned shortly with a box of nursing pads.

As Susan took them, tears filled her eyes, "I hadn't needed these since about a month after Jacob died."

"I miss him too, Mom; although, I can't even imagine how much you must. Hang on a second, I'll be right back." Diana entered the big walk-in closet, then after a moment she was back with a small box. "Since you don't have a man to take care of you now..."

Susan took the box, glancing at the picture on the side. She sighed and said, "Thank you. There was a time when I was in high school that I thought the constant lactation was a curse. But after I met your dad..." She cleared her throat, "I, uh, changed my mind. I guess it sounds trite to say it kept us close, particularly after we had been married for several years, but he could have just said it was my problem and I would have had to use one of these, exclusively." She glanced at the breast pump, "But he seemed to always find time to help me out, and his way surely was a lot more fun than having that pump pull on my nipples."

Susan looked away from Diana's eyes for a moment, then looked back. "Does Jeff ... do it for Arlene?"

"For both of us," Diana said, "if he has time. Mostly, he just makes it sexual play; play that we love."

"Do ... do you orgasm while he's doing it?" Susan blurted.

"Always. Arlene and I both — always."

Surprising Diana, Susan said, "Your dad loved for me to ride him while he had a couple of pillows under his head and I leaned forward a little making my breasts easily accessible to him..." She wound down as the blush suffused her face, tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. "I miss him," she snuffled.

The women were quiet for a moment as Diana handed her mother a tissue, then gently squeezed Susan's arm. "Mom, my husband is a good man. He really loves each of us. Each of us. He's in love with each of us. Why do you hate him? He worked his ass off for Arlene and me. I've never once doubted he was true to me, even with all the traveling he did."

"But, there's nine of you now. How can you not be jealous of that? He's cheating on you with eight other women."

Diana's temper almost flared, but she managed to hold it in check. "He's not cheating on me. What he does, I condone wholeheartedly, even encourage it." Diana hesitated, then let a sigh escape her lips. "Mom, I was a little jealous now and again when Arlene first seduced him. Well it wasn't exactly a seduction, but after a little while, it just seemed ... right. Then there was Ann, who had loved him since she was thirteen. Not puppy love. It quickly became obvious that it was real love. I ... just found myself planning the next wife. I wanted them for my husband ... and it gives me great pleasure to see him make love to them."

"But one man can't..."

"But he's not just a man, Momma. That's where the difference is. He's an Alpha, a Prime. He's supposed to have more than one wife. A Prime has even more than an Alpha. I want him to have still more wives, but not just wives, he must have intelligent, beautiful women for his wives. He's a Prime," she repeated, "an enhanced Prime. I'm a Prime's Queen Bitch..."

Susan suddenly sat up straight, "Your status is raised as the number of your husband's wives increases. At least, that's what you think."

"Mom, I don't care about that. I just know my husband deserves more wives and it's my job to see he gets them. I'm ... almost driven by it."

Susan came back with, "You're brainwashed." But her voice lacked conviction, even to her. Yesterday she had meant it, today ... Susan remembered the look of concern on Jeff's face as he talked quietly with Caitlin just before she left for work, the tenderness he had shown her as he hugged her. Even the obvious concern for her (Susan) when he somehow noticed that her milk had wet her bra. He had talked to Diana about it so that she would give Susan pads and a breast pump. He had every right to hate her for the way she had treated him over the years. Now that she had absolutely no leverage against him, he had messed with her — played with her, then put that ... alien on her to make her feel better than she could ever imagine feeling. Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa all obviously adored him. He had kissed her. At first because of Diana's instigation, but in the kitchen to tease her. Well, she thought it was to tease her, but she had responded to him — responded in a way that almost scared her.

Susan couldn't sit still. Getting to her feet she strolled around the big room, first to examine the giant bed. "Where did you buy this?" she asked, turning to her daughter who sat with a bemused look on her face.

"Denver. And the bed can be expanded. In fact, I've already ordered an expansion, and the people should be here to install it tomorrow."

"And the sheets?"

"Same thing, only they Velcro together to form any size you want."

"I hate to think how much this bed cost."

"Momma, you and I have already discussed this. We can afford it. We could afford a hundred of them and never notice it. We're going to have to expand our vanity and bathroom area if my husband gets many more wives, though," she said with a smile on her face.

Susan turned slowly around to really look at the big room. "This place is fabulous but..." she said, glancing at the area where the walls met the ceiling.

"Dave and Evie's best finish carpenter had to take some time off. Then we got involved in helping Carla and Jessica. There were other things as well, but the molding will be up in a few days."

Susan's eyes traveled to the big mirror on the wall next to the bed. Suddenly, her eyes locked on the image of her own face. She stood stunned. "My face. I ... look ... younger." She wheeled to Diana who now stood grinning at her.

"I wondered when you would notice it."

Susan turned back to the mirror. Her fingertips slid across her face, then touched the smooth skin under her eyes. "My crow's feet ... they're gone," she said, barely above a whisper. "I'm lactating again; I feel wonderful. My breasts feel ... different," she continued as she put her hands on herself, squeezing her long breasts as she watched herself in the mirror. "I've already loosened by bra, but it feels too ... tight. I..."

Diana came up behind her, putting her arms around her mother. After hugging her, Diana moved to stand beside Susan, both of them looking in the mirror. Their resemblance had been amazing; today, it was even more obvious and outright startling. Diana smiled at her mother's image in the mirror. "Jill wanted to look like she did when she was first married to Bill. The next morning, she looked like a teenager and ... by the next morning she had a hymen. I wanted to look like I do now. Just one of the many things we don't fully understand. We think Little One picks something from our minds. Her power is growing, so what used to take quite a while, comes more quickly now. How do you really see yourself in your mind's eye, Mom?" Diana teased.

"I don't know," Susan answered, but she did know, and both women knew it.

Diana shrugged, not wanting to push her, or invade her privacy, "We'll see."

-------

Fred, Carla, Jessica and Audrey were heading south down US Highway 1. Carla, who was riding in the front with Fred, sighed and looked over at him as they crawled along in traffic. "Baby, the ocean is pretty and we get to see a lot of it on this road, but the traffic is..."

"Yeah," Fred said, agreeing with her before she could even finish the sentence. "I could drive in traffic in the Atlanta area. No use coming down here for this."

Carla unlocked her seat and turned it around. Before she could say anything to the other two, Jessica spoke up. "We heard you." Then glancing at Audrey, who grinned back at her, she continued, "Anything is better than this."

"How about we go see if we can find out what these people do for farming and ranching?"

"Sounds good to us," Jessica answered after receiving a nod from Audrey.

Carla looked over at a grinning Fred. "I'm not a city gal. I haven't lost a thing in all this traffic. Lets go find some farms. I want to see what these people raise down here. And ... I don't want to do it at seventy miles an hour on the Interstate."

Fred chuckled, "I'll find a place to pull over." Then louder, "Jessica, plan us a route, Babe. We're getting out of this traffic."



-------

Chapter 51


Jeff roamed the halls. All the girls were in class. Diana and Laura were in the adjoining room taking an online class; Joyce was taking a nap so she would be fresh for her night shift; Caitlin and Alesha (Jesse's girlfriend) were at work. Bill, Frank and their women had gone back to Saint Louis. Kayla was in her suite doing something. Mom, hmmm ... Where in the fuck is she? I haven't had my ass chewed today. Fuck, I'm bored; I guess I'll go see how the indoor range is coming along.

A few minutes later, Jeff strode into the basement area to stand watching the men as they worked. Four of them lifted a piece of steel and began muscling it into position to be welded. Jeff grabbed hold to help the struggling men. After the welder put in a couple of tack welds to hold the piece in place so he could finish the welding, Dave tapped Jeff on the shoulder and motioned with his head.

Jeff frowned a little, but followed his friend around a corner. "What's wrong?" Jeff asked as Dave hesitated.

Dave cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.

Jeff looked at his friend. "Now what is the matter with you? Do I have bad breath or something?"

Dave chuckled, "Well, no. Not exactly."

Jeff just stared at him. "What the fuck is 'not exactly?'"

Dave looked exasperated. "You make the guys feel uncomfortable."

"'Uncomfortable?' How in the ... heck do I make them feel 'uncomfortable?' They needed help with that piece, so I just gave them a hand."

The men were standing facing each other. Dave clapped a hand on Jeff's shoulder, staring him in the face. "Jeff, you're the rich guy who owns this fabulous building. You have beautiful women running all over the place." When Jeff started to say something, Dave hurried on, "Oh, they're out of sight today, but the guys have seen them from time to time when the crews were here before. One of my crew will crush a finger, drop something on his foot, or screw something up if you keep watching them."

"But I'm not looking over their shoulder or trying to boss them."

"You don't have to, Jeff. You're the guy with the dough who's paying for the job. You don't like what they do and they're history."

"Bullshit, you wouldn't get rid of someone just because I didn't like him."

Dave hesitated. "You might be right. I wouldn't necessarily just fire him or send him to another job, but I would want to know why you felt the way you do. Chances are I would take your recommendation. You are my Prime."

"Ah, fuck," Jeff said. "I'm just bored. Everybody is in class or at work or sleeping so they can work tonight, and I can't do anything in my lab with all the racket going on so close to it."

"So what's Kayla doing?"

"Probably hiding from me," Jeff grumped, "everybody else seems to be."

"Go find something to do, Rich Man," Dave teased. "I'll go tell the guys you're tickled with their work."

"I'll be tickled when they're done," Jeff mumbled to himself as he started up the stairs.

-------

At 11:30, Jeff was walking down the hallway when the classroom door opened and his young wives streamed out, led by Arlene. Jeff paused for a few seconds, and the new girls also came out laughing, and talking with Helen. When the girls saw Jeff, they ran to him to give him a hug.

"We love our new school," Nicki bubbled out.

"Yeah, and our teacher is super," Nat crowded in.

"Helen. She insists we call her Helen," Whitney got her two cents worth in among the thank you's, as the girls all but bounced up and down.

"She already told you that before," Jeff said.

"Yeah, but this is different. She's our teacher now."

"We're going to help fix lunch," Nat said as she pulled Jeff's face down to kiss him on the cheek. The other girls did the same before they all rushed off in the direction of the kitchen.

"Wow," Jeff said as Helen came over smiling. "I take it they like your class."

"Yes, I would say that you're probably correct. They..."

Jeff pulled her to him for a passionate kiss, which she returned with vigor, pressing her braless breasts against his chest, her nipples suddenly tenting her blouse. Finally pulling shakily away, she looked at him for a second, then snuggled her head against his shoulder. "Wow. What brought that on? A little more and you would have to do me here in the hallway." Then, apparently suddenly remembering, "The girls..."

Jeff chuckled, "They're already in the kitchen. But they know you're my wife," he needlessly reminded her.

"Oh, I know that, Silly. It's just that I'm their teacher. I can't..."

"Can't what?" Jeff interrupted. "I had your legs on my shoulders pounding your pussy last night with four of your other students watching and even touching us. As I recall, two of them were sucking your breasts from time to time just before we finished."

"Jeff, that's different. They're my sister-wives. But the new girls..."

"Are a lot more savvy to what's going on. I told them about us before we left the base."

"I know that, too. It's just that a teacher needs to maintain a little more decorum than making love to her husband in the hallway."

Jeff grinned at her as he raised her chin a little so he could lightly kiss her. "In other words, bending you over a couch in the living room is okay?"

"Jeff, don't you dare," Helen protested. "Now stop. I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Okay," he replied as he sneaked a hand under her top to tweak a nipple.

"Jeff, Baby, I can't think when you do that," she whispered. Then a little louder, "We spent the morning talking to the girls."

Jeff relented and brought his hands back down to hold her sides as she looked up at him.

"I thought you were going to test them?"

"Oh, I gave them one test, but I didn't want to swamp them with tests right away, so we just talked. Your young wives picked up on what I was doing and helped."

"So what did you talk about?"

"The orphanage; their classes in school; what they had studied; how they had studied; what they thought about you," she added with a grin.

Jeff laughed. "You did not."

"Oh, yes we did. And they had plenty to say about you."

Jeff didn't want to go down that road. "So what did you learn about where they are academically?"

Helen sighed, "Obviously, they haven't had the opportunities that your young wives have had, but apparently the school system they were in allowed them to educate themselves fairly well."

"Allowed them?"

"Yes. Like a lot of our school systems — the one your young wives were in, in Georgia being no exception — things seem to be keyed to the lowest common denominator. Everyone must pass. The smart students get bored with the snail's pace, and quit studying. But apparently several of the girl's teachers allowed them access to more advanced material, and they were allowed to learn on their own. Oh, not all the teachers allowed this, but some did."

"And the bottom line?" Jeff said.

"No, they are not as advanced as Jennie and Melissa were when they first started with me, and they certainly are not in Arlene and Ann's category — few students ever are — but your new charges are still well ahead of the average student. They chose to stay in their room and read at night when the other kids in the orphanage were in the common room to watch TV and raise hell. Apparently they read whatever the school library would allow them to check out, and I suspect some of the reference books that they were not officially allowed to take home went with them as well. They were friends with the school librarian. Their school was apparently in a low income area, but like I said, some of the teachers were putting forth an effort."

"So what now?"

"I have a rough idea of their academic achievements, but at this point that's about all." Then with a bemused expression, "I can say, though, that without a doubt, they are wife material." Then at the flustered look on Jeff's face, Helen went hurriedly on, "In other words, they're definitely above average intelligence, possibly very much above average, and their beauty is obvious. Their beauty, of course, is the reason Ingles or his cronies were attracted to them to start with."

Helen's expression took on a turned serious, "Jeff, that orphanage has to be involved..."

"It is, and it's being taken care of. Justice will be swift; I can assure you of that. The general promised me, and he was pissed."

"Jeff, you know how long it takes for an investigation into something like this, then since it's a state-run orphanage..."

Jeff broke in. "The guilty ones will, uh ... disappear, and they will talk before they do. You can bet your pretty ass that some of the general's people are running that orphanage as we speak, and have been for several days. Every employee there will be given a truth serum that they can't resist. Those who are innocent will be taken care of. Those who are guilty will be taken care of, too — but in a far different way. And yes, their rights will be violated when forced to take the serum, but the ones who aren't guilty will be rewarded. It won't be a court of law, but it will be honest and fair, and justice will be meted out."

"Jeff that's..."

"Yeah, like I said, a violation of their rights. How about the violation of the girls' rights? They were kidnapped, sold, their virginity raped from them, and they were kept in a cage, nude. What if it's still going on? Ingles might not have been the only one buying girls from them. We can't wait for a stumbling bureaucracy to decide to investigate. And who says how high this thing went in that same bureaucracy?" There was the sparkle of moisture in Jeff's eyes. "Our court systems don't work. The criminals with the most money hire the best lawyers who are able to delay, delay, delay, until the DA plea bargains the case away just to get some kind of conviction so he can keep his stats up and get re-elected. And that's assuming a politician is honest? Honest and politician are terms that don't go well in the same sentence. Besides that, how many times lately have you heard on the news where someone who committed a terrible crime was convicted, then later you might hear that the sentence was a fine and probation? Wow," he sarcastically said, "now that really taught them a lesson. How many times have you heard where someone who was released early from prison raped a kid, or killed someone — again." Jeff sighed, his mouth a thin hard line, "These bastards fucked up. They will pay."

Jeff looked his wife hard in the eye. "Besides that, I don't have shit to do with it. Once I brought those girls back, it was out of my hands. I'm just a major who gets called in from time to time. My general might well be the most powerful..." Jeff stopped, not wanting to go there.

Helen leaned her head against him, hugging him tight. "Our girls are safe. That's all I care about right now. They're safe because of you."

Jeff sighed. "Finding them was accidental. We went after Ingles."

"We all know that, even the girls do. But they're safe now. They have a wonderful life in front of them. One day, you'll give up and make them your wives." She could feel Jeff shaking his head, and she grinned against his shoulder, knowing his resistance was futile.

-------

Today was going to be a quick lunch of soup and sandwiches. Jeff sat in his place sipping a cup of coffee as the new girls set the table. Dave and Evie came in just as:

VEHICLE IDENTIFIED AS FEDEX DELIVERY TRUCK ENTERING DRIVE, the computer stated. As the view zoomed in on the driver, DRIVER IDENTIFIED AS PAUL.

Jeff's young wives swung into action. "We'll teach you guys to do it," Ann said to the three new girls while pointing to the stack of large Styrofoam go cups. "The hot chocolate machine is on, but Paul likes half coffee and half hot chocolate. He also likes an extra sugar in it as well."

Nicki was waiting with the pot as Whitney got the cup. After the coffee and sugar were in, Ann directed Nat to get a couple of spoonfuls of small marshmallows. After they were in, Whitney filled the cup the rest of the way up with hot chocolate, and Nat put the cap on.

Nicki was elected to carry the cup, and they all rushed down the hall to put their coats on and wait for the truck.

Dave and Evie elected to continue their lunch so they could get back with the crews. Diana had remained in the kitchen to keep the soup warm and chat with Dave and Evie as everyone else hurried after the girls to help with the unloading. "Do they know what's coming today?" Jeff quietly asked Helen as he, Laura, Helen and Kayla followed behind the girls.

"I just told them we had some computer equipment coming and there would be a number of items for the school."

"And they don't know what you ordered?"

"I suspect they think it's a computer system for them to share, plus some other stuff for the school."

Jeff chuckled and grabbed Helen and Laura around their waists, pulled them to him as they walked, said. "Well done, Ladies. Well done."

"Why?" Laura asked. "We just bought them the same systems everyone else has."

"Yeah, I know. But this is going to blow those girls out of the water."

"You have that right," Kayla said. "They've never had anything like that for school."

At the door a few moments later: "Gloves on," Arlene called out, as she and her sister-wives pulled theirs on.

"I can't believe how good these coats feel," Nicki said as she dug her gloves out of her coat pocket. "We never had gloves at the orphanage, let alone coats like these."

"Well, you do now. And Dad doesn't like cold hands," Arlene kidded, "so wear the gloves."

"It wasn't your hand I was complaining about the other night. It's where you were putting your cold feet," Jeff laughed.

"Details. Details," Arlene laughed, opening the mudroom door as the FedEx truck backed toward the steps.

There were gasps from the three new girls as the cold wind hit.

As the young black man stepped out of the truck, pulling on his coat, he noticed the outside thermometer. "Looks like a heat wave," he said, laughing, as he motioned to the reading. "Plus fifteen degrees (Fahrenheit) today. Warmer than it was a few days ago when I was up here."

"I think it's supposed to go up to twenty," Arlene said, laughing, as she walked up to him. Then turning to the girls, "We have three new people who have come to live with us." She quickly introduced the new girls.

"Your mocha," Nicki said, smiling, as she handed him the cup.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he said. Taking the cup, he took a sip, complimented them on the taste, then put his mocha on his dash, went around to the back and started bringing out cartons.

Jeff brought a hand truck to put the computer boxes on, while each of the new girls picked up a monitor as the driver stacked them on the rear of the truck. As Whitney took a monitor box off the truck, her gloves slipped on the slick cardboard. Nat, who was standing beside her, grabbed for the box just as Whitney did. They fumbled it, but kept it from falling hard into the packed snow.

"Oh, my gosh. Did I damage it?" Whitney gasped, her eyes already tearing up. "I didn't mean to. I tried to catch it. It just slipped. I'm so..."

Jeff leaned over, tilted her face up and kissed her hard. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds, but it got her undivided attention. "I'll talk to you in a minute. But you are not in any trouble. Got that?" he said, staring her in the eye.

"Yes, Major," she quietly said, then hurried inside with her box.

"I hope the general shuts that fucking place down," Jeff quietly said to Laura and Helen. "Those sweet kids are afraid to do anything."

Soon, the rest of their supplies were unloaded and they watched the FedEx truck make the curve behind the retreat, Paul sipping his mocha as he drove.

"I'll bet this place is famous around FedEx and UPS," Laura chuckled. "Where else do the drivers get served coffee or hot chocolate, or in Paul's case, mocha, in cold weather, or a cold soft drink when the weather is hot. Not to mention who is serving it," she finished as she nodded toward Jeff's young wives standing just inside the hallway taking off their coats, nipples prominent from the cold.

"Well, I've seen at least one female driver," Jeff said. "But yeah, you're right. Even she seemed flattered with the attention."

"And ... the driver doesn't usually even have to bring it to the door. Your young wives are always there to help him unload. Not to mention the tips," Laura laughed.

A moment later as they hung up their coats, Jeff commented, "I wonder if there are any other places that the drivers call ahead to ask if the driveway has been plowed out?"

Helen turned to him after securing her coat. "They probably call ahead to some of the ski resorts."

"They must. That loaded truck would be a bitch to drive up steep inclines that are covered in snow and ice."

"A little different here than what you would expect in Georgia, my Southern husband," Helen teased.

"Yeah," Jeff laughed as the three started back. "But I'll bet these folks have never had to watch out for water Moccasins while fishing."

"And you have?" Helen asked, grinning.

"Well, I watched a lot more carefully after that one fell off a limb into our boat."

"What did you do?" Helen said, stopping to stare at him.

"Gave him the boat, of course," Jeff said, putting his arm around them again and restarting them for the kitchen. "I'm hungry. Let's hurry."

"He's hungry," Helen leaned forward to look over at her sister-wife.

"My goodness. Imagine that," Laura laughed.

No sooner had Jeff entered the kitchen, the computer announced that three unidentified vehicles had entered the driveway. The two new Escalades had arrived with the drivers' return ride.

Getting the extra wheels stored and the paperwork straightened out took another thirty minutes. When he returned to the kitchen and dropped into his chair, Diana was the only one present. Putting a platter of steak and two baked potatoes on the table in front of him, she sat in his lap. "Soup and sandwiches would have been great," he said. "You need to get back to your studies."

She kissed him hard for a second. "I love you. You're the main reason for my life. The studies will wait. I've waited this long to go to college, a few more minutes to cook for my man is just a bonus."

"I love you too, Babe."

After kissing him lightly again, she stood and picked up his glass of tea. "Bring your plate. Helen isn't letting the girls open the boxes yet. You can eat in the classroom and watch their joy."

"Sounds good to me," Jeff laughed, suddenly much happier as he put his eating utensils on the platter with his food, grabbed everything up and followed his wife.

Joyce was up from her nap, and she and Kayla were in the classroom waiting with the others. Of course, Nat, Nicki and Whitney had already figured it out, but had waited patiently — probably more awestruck than patient — but nonetheless, they had waited quietly, only whispering to each other, their eyes big and their hands nervously trying to find something to do. Helen had allowed them to unpack the other supplies for the class, and had stalled them with instructions on how to set up their systems. When Jeff sat at the end of the room to eat his meal, Helen told them to go ahead and open their monitors.

Jeff's young wives got rid of boxes and packing materials as the girls tugged their monitors, then their systems out of the shipping cartons. Jeff, now finished eating, sat back with a second glass of tea that Jennie brought him as the girls, supervised by the others, hooked their systems up, then each girl started her system for the first time.

"Our computer lab at school didn't have anything like this," Nicki said.

"Yeah," the other two whispered in unison.

"We still had Windows 98," Nat said.

After the boot process had finished, Laura caught their attention. "We'll start loading your programs in a little while, but first, there are three boxes in the corner that you haven't opened yet." Jeff's young wives had grabbed those three boxes as soon as the driver brought them to the back of the truck, then quickly took them to the classroom and hid them.

"Uh, okay," Whitney said as all three girls stood. Whitney was there first and removed the afghan that Arlene had draped over the boxes. There was a couple seconds of hesitation as their eyes locked on the boxes. But the bold lettering and picture on the carton left no doubt what was inside.

Nat and Nicki put a hand over their mouths as gasps slipped out. Whitney whirled to look back at everyone else. The grins told her this was real. As she turned back around, Nat shoved a carton containing her laptop into her hands. As they got back to their seats, Arlene slit the binding tape with a box knife. The young wives helped get the batteries installed. As the laptops were booting, they got the chargers plugged in and the computers on AC power.

The girls suddenly looked at each other, tears streaming down their faces. "We don't deserve all this," Nicki said as she fought to keep from sobbing.

"No," Nat and Whitney chimed in.

Arlene stepped in front of them, demanding their attention with her presence. "Yes, you do."

"But ... but we don't need laptops. You've already given us desktops with these beautiful monitors just like you guys have. All this is so expensive."

Helen quickly hugged each of the girls. "We don't throw money away, but we buy what we need to give you the best education we can give you. You need the big hi-res monitors for the cad programs you will learn to use, and the extra power of the desktops, but the laptops are for convenience. You're part of us now. Family, just like we've said over and over. Now, there are many qualified people here to get you started, but Laura, Ann and Arlene are going to work with you this afternoon to get some of your main programs loaded and start teaching you how we work with them."

The afternoon progressed.

-------

On a state road in the interior of Florida a little earlier in the day:

Fred, Carla, Jessica and Audrey had just finished eating a picnic lunch at a small roadside park, the women showering him with love, and Fred returning it at every opportunity. The trip felt like a honeymoon to all of them.

Jessica, sitting beside Fred at the picnic table, leaned back against him and drew his arms around her. "It's so different here," she said as she looked around at the flat land around them. "Every stream we cross is big, and the water isn't rushing by, but just ambling along, or standing still, even."

"Well, it isn't the absolutely flat lands of some of the farming country we'll see later where they irrigate and grow rice, but yeah, it's darn sure different from the mountains near your ranch."

"Our ranch," Carla said as she reached over the picnic table to grasp Fred's hand. "Our ranch," she repeated. "If we're your wives, or going to be when we get back, whatever we have is mutual property. Besides, you bought our horses back with your own money. You have invested in the ranch just like we have, not even mentioning the sweat you've put in."

"Baby, I don't want..."

"Yes, you do," Carla broke in. "You, Jessica, Audrey and I all share our bodies, minds and souls. Brenda is included in there too for she shares our love, our minds and souls. Like Jeff says, we're family. Besides," she grinned, "all three of your women are walking around carrying your seed in us all the time. You can't get much more personal than that."

Jessica took Fred's hand and put it on her breast. "Yeah," she said just as Audrey said the same thing.

After each of the women took time for a kiss and a snuggle, they all cleared the table, got rid of the trash, and carried the remaining food back into the RV.

As they pulled back on the road a few minutes later, Fred pointed ahead of them. "The cotton picker that passed us a few minutes ago turned into the field ahead of us. Looks like the farmer is going to start picking this field. Want to stop and watch him for a while?"

"Yes," Carla said. "Jessica and I have never seen a cotton picker work. We would love to. Right Jessica?"

"Sure thing," Jessica replied. "How about you, Audrey?"

"Well, I've seen them before, but I've always thought they were interesting. I'm all for it."

"Not as if we're in a hurry, anyway," Fred said as he found a wide shoulder and pulled over. Soon, they were sipping soft drinks and watching the machine creep slowly across the snow-white field of cotton, leaving only dark gray stalks behind.

"Baby, I feel odd," Brenda said in Fred's mind.



-------

Chapter 52

..."Baby, I feel odd," Brenda said in Fred's mind.

Fred had slipped his shoes off and had propped his feet on the dash as they watched the cotton picker work in the field. What do you mean by 'odd?' Fred asked, his mental voice concerned.

"I don't know. It's ... hard to explain. Just an odd feeling that I've never felt before."

"Brenda says she feels 'odd, '" Fred said aloud.

Soon, all three women were touching Fred so they could hear Brenda, and asking her what was wrong.

"I don't know. Maybe nothing. It's just a ... peculiar feeling. Like ... I don't know," she said, the frustration obvious in her mental voice. "I've never felt anything like it before."

"Do you feel bad? Are you sick? Oh, crap, that was stupid. You can't be sick, you're a..." Carla stumbled to a stop.

"I'm not a freaking ghost. So don't call me one," Brenda snapped, quite uncharacteristically.

"I was going to say spirit," Carla quietly said. "I didn't mean to insult."

"Oh, shit. I didn't mean to, either," Brenda said. "It's just that I feel so ... strange. I don't know what is wrong with me. And you're right; I can't see how I could be sick. I have, generally, the same feelings I had when I was alive, though, minus a few things like a body, for instance," she sarcastically said.

"We all love you," Carla said. "All we can give you is our love. Well, unless we're making love, then we can share our orgasms with you," she chuckled.

"Can you describe it to us?" Fred said aloud for the benefit of the others.

"I don't know. It's like ... maybe you have just discovered you have a third hand, or something like that."

"Do you mean..."

"No, no. The analogy is way off base. I don't have a hand, period — much less a third hand, but it's almost like I can touch something. Like I need to touch something. Crap, I don't know. I said it was odd, didn't I? I can't explain it ... Let's roll. I'm tired of looking at that cotton picker."

Fred dropped his feet off the dash. "Saddle up, ladies. Let's get out of here."

Jessica and Audrey returned to their seats to buckle up while Fred slipped his shoes back on. As Carla fastened her seat belt, she looked over at Fred, then reached to touch his hand again. "We're here for you, Brenda. Anything we can do, we will."

Brenda didn't answer, but just sent a feeling of unease.

They traveled throughout the afternoon, periodically checking with Brenda while passing cotton and corn farms, and an occasional dairy farm or pecan farm before late in the day Jessica told them they were only a few miles from a small RV park.

"Sounds good," Fred responded. "I'm getting hungry."

"Well, we want to keep your energy up," Audrey said, embarrassing herself as Jessica giggled.

Shortly, they pulled into the park. "Looks like all they have is packed gravel," Fred said. "No concrete pads, but everything looks reasonably level. Whatever is left, the Tourmaster's leveling system will take care of, anyway."

After paying the attendant, finding their spot, and hooking up, they ate. Later, they cleaned up the kitchen and sat in folding chairs just outside the camper as twilight darkened into night.

"Brenda, you okay?" Carla asked as she took Fred's hand so she could hear his dead wife.

Carla and Fred heard the mental sigh. "Yeah. I'm fine, and the feeling isn't quite as intense as it was. Maybe a few good orgasms will take care of me," she said with a mental laugh.

"That probably goes for all of us," Carla answered. Then standing, she said to the others, "Let's go take a shower, then make our man glad he brought us with him."

A couple hours later, Fred lay in a sticky bed, Jessica sleeping on top of him, his cock still pushed up her. Carla and Audrey were snuggled against him as he managed to look at his watch. It's only nine o'clock. Not really bedtime yet. But the rhythm of Jessica's heart soon matched his and he slept, anyway.

Jessica smiled in her sleep as her pussy occasionally massaged the cock buried in her. That cock belonged to the most wonderful man in her world. Life was good.

-------

Jeff and Diana stood in their bedroom looking at the monitor as the truck started down the driveway. "What did they say when you tipped them?"

Diana chuckled. "Oh, they were expecting it this time, but I also think they were a little worried that the tip wouldn't be as much, since they were so late."

Jeff turned so that he could look in the eyes of his wife. "Between the three of them, they must have told me half a dozen times that the parts for the bed came in late, but they got here as soon as they could."

"That one guy was so transparent. He kept trying to unobtrusively check out the vanity area with those ten sinks. Those guys know damn well you have more than one woman, and that one wanted to ask sooo bad," Diana laughed.

"Yeah, I saw him, but I thought he was going to 'Sir' me to death. I swear he put two sirs in one sentence."

"Well, as much as we paid for this bed, probably the owner gave them a lecture before they left to come up here."

"They did a good job, though," Jeff added. "You can barely see the seam where the mattresses are joined. And with the way the bed itself is supported, I could park my truck on it."

"Well, with ten women on it, plus you..."

"Nine," Jeff broke in. "Nine."

Diana giggled softly, punching him gently in the ribs.

Jeff grabbed the back oh her neck and kissed her hard.

The bedroom door flew open. "Yesss!" Arlene said as the wives all streamed in with Kayla following a bit uncertainly in their wake.

Arlene took a couple running steps, then launched herself to bounce on her back on the bed. Of course, not to be outdone, the other young wives did the same thing. Laughing, giggling girls rolled around on the mattress tickling each other and calling for Jeff to come join them, emphasizing the "come," then bursting into giggles again.

Diana pointed. "The new sheets are over there," she called into the melee, trying to keep a straight face.

Jennie scrambled off the bed and tore into the package with gusto. "There are only four sheets," she said.

"That's all I could get made up in time. More will be here shortly."

"Wash day has just gotten interesting around here," Jeff said. "Will one of those things even go in the washer?"

"We can easily get two of them into one of the industrial washers. And I thought ahead this time. Remember when Laura and I had to sew regular sized sheets together for our first nights on our big bed?"

Jeff hugged her to him, his older wives gathering around also, as they watched his younger wives make the bed. Diana grabbed Kayla and pulled her to Jeff's arms. "You'll be in that bed soon," Diana whispered into Kayla's ear.

"That looks like a job just to change the sheets," Jeff said.

"Well, if someone I know didn't leave puddles all over the bed, we wouldn't have to change the sheets every day," Diana teased, a devilish grin on her face.

"I don't leave the puddles, although I do initiate them, I guess," Jeff said with a chuckle.

Diana could see the blush creep up the back of Kayla's neck. Fighting back a giggle, Diana continued, "The man is a walking semen machine. He never seems to run out. Of course, it does tend to 'run out' of us afterward," she finished, giggling.

"Mom,  that's so tacky," Arlene said just before she and the other young wives joined Diana in her laughter.

Kayla's blush darkened.

Before Diana could continue with her teasing, Whitney, Nat and Nicki walked in the open door. "Oh, shit," Whitney gasped out when she saw the bed, then slapped her hand over her mouth. "Oops. Sorry."

"Wow," the twins said in unison.

"That about sums it up," Jeff said, laughter in his voice.

"Maybe we shouldn't be in here," Nicki quietly said, looking at Diana.

Diana pulled the girls aside where she could talk privately with them. "You can always come in the sitting room," she quietly said, but if the bedroom door is closed... "Well, you are still welcome because you're family, but you might be extremely embarrassed on occasion if you open that closed door. For all practical purposes, though, you're adults. You are the same age as my husband's younger wives. But be aware, if you come in while my husband is making love to us, his pheromones will guarantee that you will be part of it almost instantly. You might not be ready for that, just yet, and I know that Jeff wants to give you time," she finished, trying to be diplomatic, knowing full well if Jeff had his way, the girls would remain in a father-daughter relationship with him.

After Diana chatted and teased them for a few minutes, the girls relaxed and joined Jeff's younger wives in their play on the bed.

Well, at least we run around here most of the time barefooted or in sock feet. They didn't even have to pull their shoes off.

Thinking about the girls, Diana's mind drifted. My husband is starting to balk, despite what Little One tells him about Primes. But he didn't try to lie to me when I asked all those questions about Primes, and when I ask Little One about things, I'm beginning to get ... something. Feelings mostly, but when I ask her about wives, I get something that has to be amusement.

Oh, shit. I wish I could understand her like Jeff does. Am I nuts trying to get my husband more wives? When I tried to ask Little One that, I couldn't understand the feeling she sent. And she has already told Jeff that Primes have many wives. But I know the new girls will be good wives for him. They just need a little time around us to become accustomed to something other than that awful orphanage. And Kayla is already one of us. She said she is feeling us more every day. Heck, she felt us the first day she was here. Jeff needs to get off his ass and take her for a wife. Things happen quickly for Alphas. I know he loves her. Yeah, he needs to make love to her tonight while Little One works on the girls. We need to discuss that with him. He can keep his cock in his pants until their wedding night, but he needs to make love to her, anyway.

After a few minutes, Diana clapped her hands together to get the new girls attention. "Okay, I have an idea. Have you girls ever made divinity?"

Her answer was blank stares from the girls.

"We don't even know what it is," Nat ventured.

"Where are your laptops?"

"Uh, in our bedroom on our bed," Nat said.

"Go look it up, then. After that, meet us in the kitchen. I'll get your new Meemi. I'm sure she will show you how to make it just like she did me when I was even younger than you."

"Well, that sure got rid of them," Jeff laughed as the girls hurried out.

"For now, My Love. For now. But it won't be long before the initial excitement of their new home is past, and they focus on the man of the house."

"Diana, I..."

"Oh, hush. When one of them gets a titty in your mouth, it will be all over."

Before he could respond, Diana pulled his head down and glued her mouth to his, slowly rubbing her braless breasts against his chest. That started an avalanche of wives who wanted to do the same thing. Kayla stood back, blushing, until Arlene reached out and grabbed her, shoving her into Jeff's arms. Jeff gave her the same treatment he did his wives. Kayla shivered and clung to him.

-------

Diana walked into her mother's suite. Susan was lying on the couch in her sitting room, a couple of pillows under her head and a coke on the coffee table nearby, the TV on.

"Why in the world are you sitting in here by yourself watching the mind numbing box?"

Sarcasm dripped as Susan said, "Well, I was just killing time. I thought that your illustrious husband would probably be fucking..."

"Don't start, Momma," Diana snapped. "Just remember, you might have to eat all your smart-mouth words one of these days. I didn't notice you running away from him at the table when he kissed you."

To Diana's amazement, Susan blushed. "I ... I can't seem to stop him when he does whatever he does. I just..."

"All the more reason to watch what you say. That crow you're going to have to eat is going to be hard to digest if you keep on."

"Well, damnit, Diana, he's fucking my granddaughter — his daughter for crying out loud; your daughter, too, for that matter. If you think I'm going to shut up about that, you need to think again."

"When you're one of his wives, you will be holding her hand while he makes love to her. And when she orgasms, you'll feel it, too. When he decides to come in her and does his mental push, you'll faint when she does."

"Bullshit. I've never fainted in my life."

"Yeah, and my husband hasn't made love to you, either — yet. Now I came in here for a reason other than arguing with you. How about showing your new granddaughters how to make divinity?"

"Where did this come from? Whose bright idea was that?"

"They've never made candy before. Seems like a good time to start. Grandmothers teach their granddaughters how to make candy. Now do you want to or not?"

Susan had to smile despite herself. "Where are they?"

"I sent them to look up divinity on the net. They had never heard of it."

"I think you were nine the first time you made that by yourself."

"Yeah, and I screwed it up, if I remember correctly," Diana said as she grabbed her mother's hand to pull her upright. "You will not sit by yourself in this house and sulk."

"Oh, so it's okay to sulk as long as I do it with someone around?" Susan said as she smiled.

Diana jerked her mother's hand as they started out of the suite. "My Prime doesn't allow strife in his house. You might as well get used to it. When you're one of his wives, he'll spank your ass for you if you get grumpy. He may do it anyway. If he does, you'll love it, but I guarantee, it will hurt like hell, too."

"I'm absolutely sure I'm not into ass spankings. And besides, he's not interested in an old woman like me, and I damn sure am not interested in him."

"Says the woman who had his tongue down her throat a few hours ago," Diana laughed. Then jerking her mother's hand again as they started down the hall, "Come on, you've been enhanced, I know you can walk faster than that. Then again, maybe you're too senile to remember how to make divinity," Diana teased.

Susan glared at her, but her lips twitched from the grin that wanted to take over.

-------

"You still have our cookbook?" Susan asked as she and Diana entered the kitchen. "And don't start that senility crap; I remember the ingredients. I just want the girls to be able to see the recipe printed out." (Susan was referring to a small cookbook that she and Diana had compiled and printed out several years ago.)

"Sure I do," Diana said, pointing. "The cookbooks are over there. Ours is on the far left on the top shelf."

Susan pulled the small black binder down, placed it on the counter and thumbed through it until she found the divinity recipe. "We probably need to double the ingredients in this."

Diana leaned over to look at the recipe. "Quadruple, you mean. Dave and Jeff could eat that by themselves. And I'll bet Joyce would like to take some to work with her."

The women were standing side-by-side looking at the cookbook on the counter. Susan turned more toward her daughter, her expression serious. "I can't get that ... alien creature off my mind. When I see Jeff eat so much, I still wonder if he's eating for that ... thing, too."

Diana started to kid her, but realized that her mother was serious. "Mother, Little One doesn't eat. She uses energy from a source that even my husband is hard pressed to understand. Maybe one day when their communications are better, Little One will be able to explain it to him. But all Alphas eat more — well, at least enhanced Alphas do. Mom, he's stronger than you realize..."

"Oh, I know he's strong. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing."

"Mom, you should see him with free weights. He's many times stronger than he looks. To lift what he does, he should be totally muscle-bound, given his weight. Oh, he looks good. He has plenty of muscles, and he's somewhat heavier than he was, but only a bit. Somehow his muscles are many times stronger than their development indicates, but apparently they need fuel and a lot of it. He eats a great deal of food, but he doesn't gain weight."

"Well, he has nine women to service every night — his daughter included."

"Mom," Diana chastised.

Susan sighed. "Oh, all right. But I still don't like the idea of him fucking Arlene. Let's get the ingredients out so when the girls get here..."

The door burst open and the new girls came in, enthusiasm bubbling. "We found it. We Googled it. There are tons of divinity recipes, but they're..."

"We have Mom's recipe here," Diana said as she pointed to the cook book. "Get out all the ingredients and put them on the counter here. I'll tell you where everything is, but if you get the ingredients yourselves, it will help you to remember where things are kept. Remember, when we're done, everything gets washed, the kitchen is cleaned up and everything goes back in its proper place. You leave the kitchen just like it is now."

"Yes, Ma'am," the three said in unison.

Diana touched her mother's shoulder. "Have fun with your granddaughters, Mom. Caitlin is going to tell us about her day. I've got to get back."

"But if I need something and I don't know where it is?" Susan said, frowning.

"The retreat directory is there by the phone. Just punch intercom and dial our suite."

As Diana started to leave, Susan caught Diana's arm, then hugged her. "Thank you," she whispered into her daughter's ear.

"Anytime, Mom," Diana whispered back, then left.

Turning back to the girls who were waiting more or less patiently, Susan smiled at them. "Divinity is a simple candy to make, but it can humble even good cooks. I've never made it on top of a mountain before, so I don't know what effect altitude will have on it, but humidity can sometimes have devastating results. Too much humidity and the candy looks more like puddles of soup, plus you never scrape the syrup out of the bowl or the candy will be grainy."

The girls were all staring at her as if she were speaking another language, but she just grinned and continued, "Most good cooks can guess at quantities fairly accurately instead of measuring everything. But that won't work with divinity. A slightly wrong amount, and the candy won't look right. Other things to look out for are: not beating the candy long enough, or not cooking it long enough. Because of our altitude, on our test of the soft ball that will tell us we have cooked the mixture long enough, we're going to go for a little firmer ball."

The girls looked at her blankly. Susan grabbed first one, then the other of the girls until she had hugged all three. "They didn't teach you any of this, did they? Well, guess what, in a little while you're going to know what everything I just talked about means. Okay," she said stepping back a little, "first we separate out the egg whites from the yolks. The whites must be totally free of yolks. Even a small amount of yolk will screw up the candy. Oh, and another thing, if we wash and reuse a utensil, it must be absolutely dry. A drop or two of water will keep our fluffy candy from forming properly."

Nat looked at the other girls for a second, then, "Maybe we need to start on something a little easier. About all we got to do in the orphanage kitchen was to prepare the vegetables and wash the pots and pans."

"Nonsense, this is easy. The candy is just a little picky. But once you see those pretty mounds of snow-white candy, it will all be worth it. Making divinity on a rainy day can be an exercise in futility, but if that gauge is right," she said nodding her head, "we're okay. Now, let's get started on the egg whites. Remember we're going to make the recipe four times as large, so we need eight eggs."

"Right here," Nicki said, sliding the bowl of eggs over. "We've never separated egg whites, how do you do that?"

"Very carefully," Susan laughed. "Let's look and see if..." she said as she searched the small utensil drawer. "Yeah, here it is. I knew there would be one here." She pulled the egg separator out of the drawer. "We could use this, but we're going to do it another way." Putting the separator back in the drawer and closing it, she took an egg out of the bowl and took a plain cup from the hanging rack. "We're going to separate the egg white into this cup for each egg. When we're done with the egg, we'll pour the white into our bowl here, then do another egg."

"But why not just do them into the bowl to start with?" Whitney asked.

"Simple, if we screw up, we've just messed up one egg, not the whole bowl of them. Now watch me. First we crack the egg on the counter here — not on the side of the bowl. The rim of the bowl could cause fragments of shell to be forced into the egg and we want the yoke to remain a unit."

Susan tapped the egg on the counter, then gently pulled the egg shell into two parts. "We just pour the egg back and forth from one half of the shell to the other, like this," she said as she demonstrated, "letting the white drip out into the cup. We go back and forth until all the white is separated into our cup, like so."

Susan poured the egg slowly back and forth between the halves of the shell until all the white had dripped into the cup. "We'll put the yolks in a bowl and keep them for Diana in case she wants to make a custard," she said, putting action to words, then dropped the shell into the trash. "Okay, each of you get a cup and try it. Remember to move the egg back and forth gently, and to take your time. Divinity requires accuracy for the best candy, not volume or speed."

The instructions went on as Susan continued to bond with her granddaughters.

-------



Susan's recipe for divinity:

3 cups sugar

½ cup white Karo syrup

½ cup cold water

1 teaspoon vanilla flavoring

1 cup pecan halves

2 egg whites, beaten stiff

This will be easier with a stand mixer, but it can be done with a powerful handheld mixer. Egg whites should be beaten until they form peaks. Bring Karo syrup, sugar and water to a boil until a soft ball forms in cold water. Pour about 1/3 of the syrup mixture into the beaten egg whites. (It only takes 20 to 30 seconds to mix properly.) After first 1/3 is mixed well, repeat twice to add all of the syrup. Add vanilla. Continue beating until candy begins to lose its gloss and holds its shape when swirled from a spoon. Drop candy by spoonfuls onto buttered waxed paper or cookie sheets. Can swirl into a peak as you drop it, then you can place a pecan half on top, slightly depressing it into the candy.

Things to remember about the recipe:



Do not attempt to make this on a rainy day.



Do not scrape syrup out of the pan; it will make the candy grainy.

Use precise amounts of ingredients; don't use approximations.

Cook until a good soft ball will form in cold water.

Beat candy until it holds its shape and it starts to lose gloss.





-------

Chapter 53

As Diana hurried down the hall, she turned into Kayla and the girls' suite. Kayla was sitting on the couch, her laptop open in front of her.

"Come on, I gave Mother and the girls something to do; we need to go hear about Caitlin's day. From what little she would say at supper, there were a few bumps in her first shift."

Kayla looked up at the beautiful woman standing before her. "Yeah, I heard what she said. It sounded as if it might be a little personal, though."

"So what?" Diana returned. "How many times do I have to tell you that you are family now? We don't have secrets from family." Diana held out her hand much as she had recently done for her mother. "Let's go; they're waiting on us."

A couple minutes later, Kayla in tow, Diana entered the bedroom. "Sorry to keep everyone waiting."

Caitlin was sitting on the bed leaning back against Jeff. "Oh, we found something to do," Caitlin said as she buttoned her blouse partway back up.

Diana, having felt the orgasms, laughed. "I thought you might have." Taking a seat beside her husband and ushering Kayla to sit in a nearby chair, Diana nodded for Caitlin to start. The other wives stopped their separate conversations and pulled their chairs closer.

After taking a sip of soft drink that Joyce handed her, Caitlin told about her day:

"When I got to work, I stopped by the intensive care unit where the night shift was still giving their report to the day shift, so I got to meet both crews for the day. Of course, the way nurses' off-days run, it will be awhile before I can meet everybody who works in the unit." She took another sip of coke and continued, "Anyway, their report went down pretty much the way I'm used to, and the day shift charge nurse invited me to tour their unit.

"I was prepared for a little bit of resentment because of the hospital bringing someone from outside to make changes, but other than one nurse, there wasn't any — or it wasn't obvious, anyway. While I was there, they brought a patient in who, among other things, needed a blood glucose run STAT, so they called for the lab to come and run the sugar test." Caitlin sat up straight, "Did you hear what I said? Instead of the nurse checking her patient's sugar levels, they called for the lab to do a simple blood glucose test. You can buy the machines for thirty or forty bucks at Wal-Mart and they are a tenth the size of that monstrosity the lab brought in. It took the lab thirty minutes to come to the unit, and their machine another full minute to give the results after the lab tech stuck the patient's finger. The one from Wal-Mart will give the results in five seconds, and in thirty seconds, I can teach an idiot to run the test. But the hospital's standard procedure is to use the lab for all blood work."

Caitlin sighed. "I called around and found that one of the hospitals in Denver still does it that way, too, although most have gone to the nurse checking glucose levels, and the change has been in effect for many years. Having the lab come in for that must be forty years out of date." She paused a moment, then went on, "Nurses frequently need to know what a patient's sugar levels are, and they need to know it in a hurry. Okay, say the patient's sugar levels are low — extremely low. You treat it, then shortly, you need to know what's happening with your treatment. Everyone doesn't react the same way. The nurse needs to check again — and in a timely manner. Calling the lab back to send a tech to do another check might get a quick response, but then again, the lab tech might be tied up somewhere else in the hospital doing something just as critical. Stupid. This is stupid, yet this isn't the only hospital still doing it. But if I truly have any say in things, this is going to change."

Jeff looked over at Diana and winked.

"And, you should see the IV catheters they're using. The nurses have had six needle sticks in the last six months while trying to use the clumsy things. They tested that model in my hospital and they didn't last a day."

"Your hospital?" Jeff gently chided.

Caitlin stopped for a second, "Well, you know what I mean, but I guess I need to watch that. The hospital I used to work for," she corrected.

"Then I asked to see their protocol list, starting with their protocol for a new patient with extremely low glucose levels. Things went downhill from there. Do you know they have no protocol for IV infiltration of dopamine? I talked to the resident, and he didn't even know about the procedure, although it's been around for many years. He did go and look it up, though. But we'll talk about that later."

Another sip of drink and, "I got the guided tour today and met a lot of people. I particularly wanted to meet the head of the procurement department, as they refer to what we used to call purchasing. He claimed to be in meetings all morning, so it was late afternoon before I even got to meet him. Even then, he only had a couple minutes for me, saying he had someplace he had to be."

"What about the meeting you were going to have with reps today, not to mention the administrator?" Jeff asked.

"I only saw Mr. Adair for a few minutes. He took me into his office, sat me down and apologized for having to leave today, but said he would be gone most of the day. He had rescheduled the rep meetings for tomorrow. He also brought in his assistant and told her to show me the hospital and introduce me to everyone. He made it very clear to her that I could go anywhere and ask anything I wished from anyone. He said he had already had a meeting with department heads to make sure I had access to anything I needed. He had reiterated with them that we were going to review and update nursing equipment and procedures. He told me to come to him if I had problems with anyone."

Caitlin stopped again for a moment, then hesitantly said, "I'm ... getting some bad vibes about this whole thing, though. I found out that Mr. Adair has only had the administrator's job for two months, and he wasn't promoted from within. I haven't heard where he came from, or what he did before, but I'm a little worried ... I tried to tell him when he called me a couple days ago that we shouldn't talk to the reps yet. I needed to see what was going on and check out the equipment the hospital was currently using, but he scheduled the meeting, anyway. Then when I got there this morning, he had to be out of the office for most of the day, and has rescheduled the reps for tomorrow. Shit, I need to work a week or two in my intensive care unit to get used to what's going on before I start making decisions about nursing supplies and equipment. And if I'm going to do this, I need to work as a floor nurse at least a few days, too."

"What happened to the old administrator?" Jeff quietly asked.

Caitlin looked up at Jeff. "I was told he had a massive stroke and his left side is paralyzed. They said that coming back to work was out of the question. He's retired now, and has to have help to do most anything."

"That's sad," Diana said.

"I suggest you sternly voice your objections about the meeting with the reps so soon, and request time to get used to the intensive care unit before you have to make recommendations. And I agree; this whole thing seems ... odd."

Caitlin snuggled her back into Jeff's side and he put an arm around her. After a moment, she pulled one of Jeff's hands to her lap, idly tracing the tip of her finger around his thumbnail. Amused, Jeff smiled at her and let her think.

"I had three nurses subtly ask about you," she grinned up at Jeff. "They saw my wedding ring, and I know they were dying to ask how many wives you have. None of them ever came out and asked, but there were enough innuendoes during the day to make me believe that they had at least heard rumors."

"Well, we've eaten at several restaurants in Winter Park, not to mention shopping. Seeing all of us with only one man around all the time delivers a pretty clear message," Diana said. "We knew it would happen sooner or later, and I don't really care. All I can tell them is to eat their hearts out. He belongs to us," she laughed.

"I don't think that's what the men are thinking," Jeff chuckled. "More like, 'it isn't fair for that bastard to have all those beautiful women.'"

Diana got up from the bed, walked over and took Kayla's hand. Leading her back to Jeff, she gently pushed Kayla down to sit beside him like Caitlin was doing. "We've been leaving someone out of our loving."

Kayla blushed deeply. "I..."

The rest of whatever she was going to say was cut off by Jeff's mouth descending on hers.

-------

In a bar in Winter Park, Greg McMasters, head of procurement for the hospital, sat at a booth in the back corner. Aaron Solomon, McMasters' assistant, quickly walked over and slid into the seat across the table from him. The two exchanged abrupt greetings.

"McMasters."

"Solomon."

"My girlfriend is pissed," Solomon groused.

McMasters grinned at him. "Well, you should be smart enough to take care of that."

Solomon, who had been trying to catch the attention of the waitress, snapped his focus back to McMasters. "All right,  you're my boss and all that, but I've told you before, that's an old, worn-out joke. My being smart like Solomon is something I heard all the way through school, and it didn't get much better in college. Even one of the instructors there popped off about it when I made a bad grade on a test. Let's forget it, huh. I'm fucking sick of it."

"Oh, aren't we touchy tonight," McMasters sarcastically said, unperturbed by Solomon's ire.

"Yeah, well, you would be too. I had just gotten her tits out when you called with this 'emergency' meeting."

McMasters, whose beer was empty, managed to attract the waitress. She was sitting at a table with a big guy who was wearing a Stetson. "She seems more interested in talking with that cowboy than she does in making money."

"Well, maybe he'll get lucky tonight, then. More than I can say about me."

"Two of these," McMasters said holding up his empty bottle as the waitress started over. As she turned back toward the bar, "This place is dead tonight. Looks like she would be scrambling for all the tips she could get." Then directing his gaze back to Solomon, "I thought you lived with your girlfriend. What's the big deal about getting interrupted. Tap her when you get home. If she won't give it up, throw her ass out."

Solomon sat back trying to relax. "Not too easy to do. It's her house."

McMasters ignored the remark. "We have a problem."

Solomon hesitated while the waitress put their beers on the table and picked up McMasters' empty. When she was out of earshot, "No shit. Adair said we were to show this Hughes bitch anything she asked for. Since she's one of the whores who belongs to the rich guy who's donating the money, I don't see how we can tell her no."

McMasters took a sip of beer and watched Solomon nervously trying to get his fingernail under the label on his bottle. "What we need to do is stay calm. If Adair had given us a little more notice that she was going to be hired, I could have done a better job of burying everything."

"I wish I had never taken that money," Solomon said as he pulled strips of the label off the bottle and piled them on the table.

McMasters stared at him, irritated at the mess Solomon was making and worried about his remark. "Just remember. We're in this together. One of us goes down, the other does, too."

Solomon looked up, anger wrinkling his brow. "Bullshit. I get a few piddling dollars, and you make a killing. The only reason I got anything was because I found out what you were doing."

"Well, unlike the rich guy on the mountain, I don't run a foundation to help out idiots." Solomon frowned, but McMasters went on. "You found out; you took the money; you're in. Now we need to talk about some things, and I think it's time we became a lot more circumspect in our discussions at the office. I know that bitch is going to want to go over prices. When she does, she's going to see how much we're paying for some of this stuff, and then she's going to want to dig through our invoices. She's a fucking nurse. She's going to realize that we don't use a tenth of what we're being billed for. And if she ever gets into the big equipment side of things, the shit is going to really hit the fan."

"If you're talking about something happening to her, count me out," Solomon said, his voice becoming hard. "Making a little extra money on the side is one thing, hurting someone is something I'm not going to be part of. And besides, if something happens to her, that rich guy is going to be on us like white on rice. And besides that, what is a rich man's whore doing working in a hospital, anyway?"

"How in the hell should I know? That just makes me all the more suspicious, though. To put your mind at ease, we're not going to hurt anyone, but I'm not going to give up my extra income, either. Now let's go over some things I want you to do first thing tomorrow..."

-------

"Well, how do I look?"

Joyce, wearing her uniform, had just walked out of the vanity area.

"You look great, but..."

"Don't say it, Husband," Joyce interrupted, knowing basically what he was going to say. Quickly diminishing the distance between them, she threw her arms around his middle and hugged him. Then grabbing his neck, she pulled his face down for a kiss.

When they broke the kiss, Jeff thumped the soft body armor under her shirt. "I hope you never get any use out of that. Once was far too much for all of us."

"Well, it's brand new, and it smells like it too. Of course, it smells better now than it will when I sweat in it for a while."

"Yeah, I know it's uncomfortable, and it tends to ruin that fabulous figure of yours, but the vest makes me feel better."

"Then I promise to always wear it. Of course, it's policy anyway, but you get the idea," she teased, reaching up to kiss him on the nose.

Jeff cleared his throat, a slightly embarrassed look on his face for a second. Raising his voice to include everyone, "Wives, I have spent a lot of money without discussing it with you, well, other than my Queen, that is." Motioning Caitlin to come to him where he was standing with an arm already around Joyce, "You two are working and will be driving back and forth without me."

"So our husband is jealous all of a sudden," Caitlin teased.

There were chuckles all around. "He knows better than that," Melissa said.

Jeff grinned a little, but otherwise ignored the comments, "The two new Escalades that arrived today are armored. All of our present vehicles will shortly be exchanged for armored ones." Before the women could say anything, he raised his hand a little to forestall what he knew was coming. "There was a delay. The new Escalades were supposed to be here Saturday, but they were delayed reaching the dealer from the company that installs the armor."

"Jeff, I..."

"They don't look much different than unarmored Escalades do, so no one will know. This isn't negotiable," he said with finality. "If you leave the retreat without me, you will be in one of those vehicles." He looked around at his wives. "I have nightmares about what would have happened if I hadn't decided to stop by the Sheriff's Office to get carry permits for my wives. I would probably have donated money — eventually. But the vest drive was going on and that deputy told us about it. That resulted in our donating the money for the new vests — the new vest that stopped the bullet that would have killed Joyce had she still been wearing the old model. Because of my delay in getting the armored vehicles, Caitlin went to work today without a proper vehicle. Proper because of the threat from Hagewood."

The wives looked at each other and gathered closer to their husband. "The general reminded me that I couldn't go around acting like I had in the past. Ostensibly he was just doing his job because of my military status, but it rankles that he had to remind me because we both knew that his warning applied to all of you as my family. I've been setting you up as targets while ignoring the danger that has come about because of our money. I was in denial by focusing on the Hagewoods. We're probably lucky that something hasn't happened already. We're rich and there are a lot of people who know we are. Just owning this building tells anyone in Winter Park that knows of this place that we're rich. There are plenty of people who prey on the rich, and some of them don't just ask for handouts for themselves, or their favorite cause — they take.

"If you don't use the driveway, you have to have climbing gear or a helicopter to reach us, but there isn't anywhere on Earth that can't be attacked. There hasn't been a trace of Hagewood. He's either dead or something is going on. It isn't reasonable to think that some penny ante crook could stay hidden so well. As I said, something is going on; I just fucking don't know what," he said with feeling. Then, "All of our vehicles, including my Expedition, will be swapped out for armored vehicles. The fact that they're armored needs to stay a secret, if at all possible. That information certainly doesn't need to get to anyone who has ill intentions toward us. So you two," he said as he squeezed Caitlin's and Joyce's shoulders, "need to make sure you drive the new Escalades that were delivered today. I rattled the Escalade dealer's cage Saturday and he's going to pass my mood on to the outfit that is armoring our new vehicles. Shortly, all our vehicles should be equipped with armor."

Jeff took Joyce full into his arms and kissed her hard. "Now, you be careful tonight. Promise me."

Joyce looked up at him. "Baby, I will be careful — just like always. But a deputy or cop who is being too careful makes bad decisions, and you certainly know that. There are a lot of wrecks during the first week after a driver has had a wreck. They were being so cautious, they made other mistakes. If I go around worried and too cautious, I'll mess up."

Jeff grabbed her in a tight hug for a couple of seconds. "Yeah, I know." Then after a hesitation, "Kick ass, but come back to me in the morning."

"That's more like it," Joyce chuckled. A round of hugs and she was on her way to work.

-------

The drive in to the station was odd for Joyce. She was both glad to be going back to work, but also strung tight as that proverbial guitar string. The story Jeff had told about the jump instructor, who had pulled his usual stunt with a rookie class where he went off the jump tower, came to mind. Something had happened not quite right with the chute that time, though. He had stood on the arm of the tower two hundred and ten feet up, pulled the rip cord, shook the chute out in the wind, and jumped. It had partially opened, but he had hit hard. Weeks later, bones finally mended, he, still weak from his recuperation, had laboriously climbed the tower, walked out on the arm, shook the chute out and jumped. He said he had to.

Jeff tried to hide it, but I saw the deep concern in his face. He's been in combat — been severely wounded. He knows I have to get back out there — figuratively have to walk out on that jump arm again. The lieutenant is going to give me the same beat I had that night, or there's going to be trouble. Shit, I can still see that son-of-a-bitch swing that cannon toward me. I knew I was going to die.

Later, as she pulled in the back and parked behind headquarters, I don't even remember the drive in to work. Crap, was I thinking — worrying — about that night all the way in.

She shut the Escalade off, got out and hit the remote lock. Dropping her keys in her pocket, she turned toward the building and ran into a mountain; at least it felt that way. "Oooff," she grunted as "Samson," hugged her, picking her completely up off the ground. Samson's real name was Horace Ford, but no one in the department was brave enough to call him Horace. Joyce didn't know where the Samson came from, since he had been with the department longer than she had, but needless to say, the name fit.

"Put me down, you big oaf," she mock grumped at him.

"Glad to see you back, Joyce," his deep bass voice returned. "Come on inside, we got you a little something to welcome you back."

As they neared the back door, the rest of the shift descended on her and she was hard put to keep the tears out of her eyes. They had everything planned except ... who was going to present her with the gift. They ushered her inside the building just as the lieutenant came walking down the stairs. Someone shoved the gift in his hands. He tried to push it back, but stopped and looked around him at all the anxious faces.

Finally, he shrugged and grinned at her. "Well, it was hard to find just the right present for the lady who has everything," he teased. Since everyone chuckled, she assumed that the whole department knew where she was living, and they probably knew a whole lot more besides. She was wearing her ring, after all. Teasing, he said, "But we racked our brains and racked our brains." Suddenly, Waldrop stopped. Oh, shit, this could be a big mistake. I told them this was iffy. If she breaks down, we're all going to be in a pile of shit with me standing right in the middle of it. Only a deputy or a cop could appreciate this, and ... well here goes.

Taking a breath, his joking mood now totally gone, "Deputy Cramer, they didn't need this for evidence any longer, and well ... we had it mounted for you." So said, he thrust a wooden display case in front of her.

As Joyce took it and looked down, she could see the partially flattened-out .44 magnum bullet that had stopped in her vest. Around her, the stillness was absolute.

Waldrop nervously cleared his throat, "We mean no disrespect, Deputy Cramer. We..."

Joyce stared at the small display case, the expended bullet sitting on a background of blue velvet. The smashed-up piece of lead with its copper jacket represented almost certain death for her, and her death would, indeed, have come that night, had it not been for the new vest she had been wearing, and ... then the miracle of Little One's healing. The lump in her throat seemed to grow. "Thank you," she whispered. Then louder, "Thank you. Thank all of you. I can't think of a better way to start my first shift back. I'll always treasure this." Then laughing, "I earned it, didn't I? The hard way."

After another quick round of hugs, Lieutenant Waldrop broke it up, said, "Okay, enough feeling up the lady. Let's get to roll call so the evening shift can go home. Cramer, stay back for a minute, please."

When the rest of the shift had gone up the stairs, Waldrop looked around to make sure he would not be overheard. "Cramer, I can put you in dispatch for a few days if you wish. No one will think a thing..."

"Bullshit, Lieutenant." Then realizing what she had said and to whom. "Uh, respectfully, Sir. Bullshit. I'm back on the street. I'm one hundred percent, and while we're on the subject, I want 132 tonight."

"Cramer, you don't have to prove anything. You've already done that in spades. Why don't I put you on 120 and you can kind of ease into it?"

"120, and ride around and check property all night? I want a regular beat. I want to answer the first domestic call that goes out. I want 132 ... Uh, Sir," she quickly added.

Lieutenant Waldrop sighed. "Okay. That's exactly what I did when I got hurt. I wanted to jump in and get both feet wet again. But, damnit, you be careful. I don't want to face that man of yours if you get hurt. Hear me."

Joyce grinned up at him for a moment, neither of them saying anything. "Thank you, Sir," she quietly said before turning and heading up the stairs to roll call, the display case containing the bullet that had almost taken her life, clutched tightly in her hands.

-------

Joyce's first call was a wreck in a ski lodge parking lot. Well, it hardly qualified as a wreck, just a big scrape down the side of a car. The complainant turned a little too wide into the parking space and the bumper of the big pickup scraped the side of the car in the next slot. It was obvious that the complainant had been drinking sometime earlier in the night, and since he said the wreck happened about 6:00 P.M. and it was now after 2:00 A.M., it was obvious that he had waited to sober up before calling.

He didn't appear to be drunk now, and there was no way she could prove he was drunk when he hit the car. He would just say he was upset about the mishap and took a few drinks to calm his nerves after getting back in his room. She ran the registration, talked to a sleepy desk clerk, found out the room the car owner was in, and completed her paperwork. One pissed off car owner; one happy drunk that he had circumvented going to jail for DUI. Slow night.

Thirty minutes later: "132."

"132," Joyce responded.

-------

32356 Morningside Drive. Joyce knew the address well. Three units volunteered for backup as soon as she released the mike button after she acknowledged the call. Joyce grimaced, knowing the lieutenant would override that. No way will he allow that many units to be tied up at one end of the county unless all hell has broken loose,  she thought. Dispatch, anticipating him, cancelled two of the volunteers. Joyce switched her frequency over to TAC 2 and coordinated her arrival time with her backup. A few blocks from the house, she pulled over and waited for the other unit. When she saw his lights, she pulled out and he fell in behind her. As she stopped in front of the house, the memory of the maniac who shot her touched her mind for a second, but she quickly focused on the sounds from the ruckus coming from inside the residence. She had had enough of domestic fights from this place. Everybody was going to jail tonight. Let the judge sort it out this time.

Just another shift. And she had two boxes of divinity to pass out after she got these turkeys booked.

-------

By midnight, Jeff had serviced his wives and everyone was sleeping. He took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. No use tasting like pussy when I visit Kayla, but she let me give her a couple orgasms with some of my other wives around, so maybe she wouldn't care. Time to find out about that later. He asked Little One to reform, and with her in hand, he quietly entered the sitting room of Kayla and the girls' suite.

A moment later, he pushed the door open to the girls' bedroom. Like the sitting room, the bedroom lights were off, the only illumination the small night-light low down on the wall. To the average person, there was just barely enough light to see how to get around. Jeff automatically blinked and concentrated for a half second. The room sprang into view, the colors washed-out, but still there, though.

He smiled as he saw the girls. Whitney was in the middle of the bed with Nat and Nicki snuggled to her, the sheet pulled about halfway up their bodies. They're sexy,  he thought as he walked quietly over to them.

He could feel Little One's mental smile. Do your thing my little friend.

He felt what he thought was a rebuff from the Healer. What did I do? he thought back with anguish.

{{{ Am I just your "little friend" now? }}} she seemed to say.

Jeff hesitated, feeling as if he were suddenly walking a tightrope. Mustering as much feeling as he could push behind the thought, he mentally said, Far from it. That was just a turn of phrase and didn't in any way convey my feelings toward you. You are far more to me than just a friend. You hold a very special place in my heart.

{{{ A "very special" place? }}}

Yes, a very special place surrounded by my love for you.

{{{ But you seldom mention love when you talk to me. }}}

I ... did not know how you would react. There is so much that I don't know about you and your masters' society. Our society is so much different, and ... we're little more than cave men to you — at least as far as our technology is concerned.

There was a moment's hesitation, then an avalanche of thoughts that he couldn't translate. Then, {{{ Your technology barely fits the term, and your society is ... crude. There was another hesitation so long that Jeff began to think she had cut off communication, then suddenly, But your feelings of love for your wives and your interactions with them and your brother Alphas are of a much higher degree. Perhaps my master's race could find much of value there. }}}

Little One, please forgive me. I didn't mean to show a limit of my feelings toward you by calling you my friend. I consider my wives to be my friends, also. Diana has been my best friend for many years. Jeff hesitated for a moment. Little One, I love you just like I do my wives. I would be dead if you hadn't intervened when I was bleeding to death from the bear attack. Joyce would have died, as well as Kim. You have ridden my shoulders while I ran, worked in my lab — made love to my wives. I have kept nothing from you. Well, at least not intentionally, anyway. Our communications are getting better, but I know you still miss some of the more subtle interactions between my wives and me.

There was projected amusement from the Healer. {{{ I understand far better your communications with your wives than I do that of your friends. There are times when you sit in the living room and chat with the men, and I can see the concepts in your mind, but they make little sense to me. }}}

Maybe the problem is gender-specific,  Jeff thought to her. There are times that I get in trouble with my wives and I have no clue as to the reason.

{{{ So, do you want me to bring these girls' bodies to optimum? }}}

Thank you. I and they would appreciate it very much.

{{{ Good. Just think about that special place that you have for me. }}}

Jeff put Little One on Whitney's chest as the blue beams came on.



-------

Chapter 54

 ... Jeff put Little One on Whitney's chest as the blue beams came on.

He stood looking down at the girls for a while thinking about Diana and the others pushing for the girls to become his wives, his emotions pulling in different directions. Part of him wanted the girls to be his daughters; part of him thought they would be excellent wives. He was proud of them for bouncing back so quickly after Ingles, the foster home and the orphanage. They were intelligent, strong-willed, and ... beautiful. But when they kissed him or plopped down in his lap, it was difficult to keep from having an erection. He could vividly picture any one of them sitting on his cock and pushing a breast into his mouth to suck. But he tried to imagine himself walking down the aisle with one of them on his arm to give her away to her new husband. He didn't like that image one bit; the green-eyed monster reared its head and glared at him.

I have enough wives,  he tried to reason with himself. I can't keep adding to the number. I can't do them all justice. Oh, thanks to Little One, I can fuck them, but I can't spend the time to talk to them, hold them, just be with them enough. Diana doesn't think it is a problem. Shit, I don't know what to think.

And then there is Kayla,  he continued as he turned away from the bed and entered the sitting room, then went toward Kayla's bedroom. She claims she fell in love with me by watching videos of me from the helmet cams of my team, and from watching what I did from my own cam, as well. How in the hell could she fall in love with an image on the screen? But the time with her at the base was surely nice. And with her quick action with the stunner, she saved our initial confrontation with Ingles from going to shit. She felt good in my arms when the Healer was working on her, and I thoroughly enjoyed sucking her breasts in our bedroom a few minutes ago.

Diana says it's time to take her "into the fold," so I guess I should do what my wives want and make love to Kayla while I'm waiting for Little One to finish with the girls. Di also says that Kayla is already hooked, so I don't have to worry about my pheromones with her, but I'm not going to fuck her until our wedding night — assuming that she will marry me, which Diana says is already a slam dunk. Oh, well, time to lick some pussy,  he mused as he quietly opened the door to Kayla's bedroom, expecting to have to wake her.

"About time you got here," Kayla said, laughter in her voice, as she brought the lights up a little. "Everything okay with the Healer and the girls?"

"Yeah," he chuckled as he walked over to the bed. "Sleeping like little lambs."

"'Little lambs' my butt. Those little lambs would enjoy their ram getting into that bed with them."

"Now, don't you start, too," he said as he sat on the bed to slip his shoes and socks off. Turning to her, trying to appear serious, "I have time for a good nap before Little One finishes."

"Nap, my butt," she giggled. "Get those pants off and get under the sheet with me. We have things to do, and I have your Queen's permission to do them."

Turning to watch him, "Did you take care of your wives?"

"You know I did," he answered with a grin as he slipped off his pants, leaving his tee shirt and shorts on.

As soon as he slid under the cover with her, Kayla, reigning in her embarrassment, sat up and pulled her negligée off, but left on her thong panties. "I don't get a chance to be with you much, and I'm going to make good use of the time we have. Now I want to get a really good look at that marvelous cock of yours."

Throwing the sheet aside, she slid down a little and went to her knees. Taking hold of his shorts, she pulled as Jeff, amused, raised his ass for her. It didn't take Junior long to stand up and be counted.

"Oh, shit. No wonder your wives kid about walking funny," she said as his cock swayed in front of her. "I won't be able to walk for a week after you stick that thing in me."

Jeff grinned, knowing she was bullshitting, but loving it anyway, said, "Okay, does he pass inspection?"

Kayla took a breath, seemingly unable to take her eyes off his cock, but managed an, "Oh, yeah."

"Good. Then, will you marry me?" he asked, his voice teasing, but obviously serious, anyway.

Kayla snapped her gaze to his face, then launched herself back up his body, landing on his chest, quickly gluing her mouth to his. Some minutes later, "Yes, yes, yes, anytime, anywhere..." she broke off to keep from sobbing as his arms crushed her to him.

"I love you, you know," he whispered into her ear.

"I know, and I love you too," she got out past a torrent of happy tears.

They kissed for a while and he nursed her breasts through a couple of orgasms again. Finally, she pushed back and said, "I need to see how much of your dick I can get into my mouth. I want to start learning how to take care of my husband-to-be."

"Baby, sucking my cock is a no-going-back experience. If you swallow my come, and thus my pheromones, you'll be bound to me, and I to you — forever."

"As if I'm not already," she quietly said. "I want to taste your semen — your sperm."

Sliding down in the bed again, she proceeded to do just that. Later, Jeff found out what Kayla's pussy tasted like. After she was unconscious from her orgasms, he gently kissed her, then stood for a moment just looking down at her. Her slim body was toned — her breasts standing high and proud on her chest, even as she lay flat on her back. Her nipples were still up from his nursing and her excitement. Her face in repose was almost little-girl innocent, a faint smile touching her lips. There's a fine mind behind that beautiful exterior, he thought as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes, then covered her with the sheet and left to get Little One.

-------

TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 8, SOMEWHERE IN FLORIDA

Fred and his women had gotten up late (for them), eaten breakfast and cleaned up, then Jessica had decided to sit on Fred's lap. Soon, she had her top pulled up and a titty stuffed in his mouth. That stirred Carla and Audrey up. An hour and a half later, Fred pulled out of the RV park and back onto the road headed south, the women now each carrying a fresh load of his sperm.

The highway was fairly straight with slight rises from time to time, and an occasional curve as the road detoured around marshes or other obstructions which had been more easily avoided than surmounted when the road was built. The RV had topped a small rise a quarter mile back and now Fred had begun to slow for a steep right curve coming up in front of them. There were guardrails about three feet high on the left side of the road throughout the turn. Bordering the turn, there was what appeared to be a thirty-foot wide drainage ditch/canal that gave way to a swamp. In places, the ditch and swamp were indistinguishable as the almost-stagnant water overflowed both.

Carla was riding in the front passenger's seat, with Jessica and Audrey playing cards in the small living room. When Fred got within a hundred yards or so of the curve, he glanced in his mirror to see a vehicle top the rise behind them. Chill bumps popped up on his arms and the hair felt as if it stood up on the back of his neck.

"They're going too fast," he said aloud. "They'll never make the curve if they don't slow down quick — real quick."

Carla looked in her mirror. Jessica and Audrey paused in their card playing. The car barreled on, drifting slightly out of the right lane, beginning to hover over the centerline. Fred gunned the big rig, then swerved toward a wide shoulder on the right as he tried to get out of the way. The RV and the PT Cruiser threw up gravel and dust on the uneven ground as he braked hard, the other vehicle careening past at what Fred estimated to be nearly a hundred miles an hour.

There was a moment of seeming unreality as the driver didn't appear to try to take the curve, but continued straight ahead. The front of the vehicle (an old Jeep Cherokee) contacted the guardrail, crunching it into the support posts, the ensuing noise, tremendous. Most of the support posts held, and the Cherokee flipped end over end. Both front doors snapped open at the howling impact and a body sailed out of the left door on the first flip of the vehicle, the body disappearing into the swamp.

Everyone in the RV had unbuckled as soon as the Cherokee hit the guardrail and the RV had slid to a halt. Fred glanced at Carla's white face, then pointing to a mile marker post ahead of them, said, "See if you can get a signal, and call for help. I'm going to try to get to them."

Fred was out of the RV and running almost before Carla could get her cell open, Jessica and Audrey only slightly behind him. When Fred got to the place where the Cherokee had gone over the guardrail, he could see the remains of the vehicle, upside down, sitting about forty feet to the right of him, partially filled with water, the driver's door apparently torn off. Directly ahead of him, about thirty feet away and just past the main ditch, was a woman lying on her back in the shallow water and weeds of the swamp. It was obvious that the water in the drainage ditch beside the road was deeper than where the woman was lying.

Fred and Jessica snatched their shoes off and slid down the bank and into the water at almost the same time, while Audrey struggled with a shoestring that had gone to a hard knot. "Shit," Jessica said as she slipped into the waist-deep, murky water and her bare feet sank several inches into the bottom sediment. "I'll check the Jeep if you want to go check her," she said, as she put action to words.

Before either of them was more than halfway to their goal, there was a splash and a muffled curse behind them as Audrey slipped down the slick bank and into the water. Fred and Jessica were trying to wade, but Audrey, already wet from head to foot, chose to swim. She angled toward Fred and was there a few seconds after Fred pulled up out of the main ditch and knelt by the woman. He splashed to his knees and put a hand on the throat of the still form, feeling for a pulse.

"Feel anything?" Audrey said a little louder than she meant to as she splashed up.

"Nope," Fred replied. He reached for her wrist, wondering if he had missed the carotid pulse. Still nothing.

"Nobody in the vehicle," Jessica hollered out as she struggled up the ditch toward them, the water up to her chin in places.

"No pulse that I can find," Fred said to no one in particular as Jessica came to her knees in the muck beside him, causing a small wave of water to splash onto the woman's face. "I haven't seen her take a breath, either." Fred made a decision, "She's half-buried in the muck from the force of her landing. We've got to get her up a little more. We can't do CPR like this."

"We have to keep her neck straight," Jessica said as she splashed around to hold the woman's head. "We could do more damage to her if her neck is broken."

"I know," Fred agreed, "but she's dead anyway. If we don't get air into her lungs and her heart started, she'll stay that way."

"I've got her neck," Jessica said. "You lift."

Fred, his knees buried in the muck, slipped one hand under the woman's shoulders and the other hand farther down on her back. "Sure you got her neck?"

"Yeah. Go."

Audrey managed the woman's legs as Fred, trying to be gentle, and struggling with the awkward angle, lifted the woman a little and settled her back out of the depression her body had formed in the mud and sediment when she had slammed into the swamp.

"You breathe for her," Jessica said, "I'll do the compressions."

Realizing that Jessica probably didn't want to put her mouth on the woman's mouth, Fred swapped places with Jessica without comment. "We don't know about her neck," Fred said, "I can't risk moving a broken neck, so I have to use the jaw thrust," he said aloud, although he was mostly coaching himself. "Shit, I haven't done this in years," he mumbled as he positioned his hands behind her jaws. But the training came back as his hands touched her and the jaw thrust opened her airway the way it was supposed to without moving her neck. He pinched her nose closed, locked his mouth to hers and blew two slow breaths into her. Jessica positioned her hands, fingers locked together, on the woman's chest.

"I think they have changed this some since the last time I went to class," Fred said.

"Just do it fifteen and two," Jessica said. "That was the last they taught us. I think they simplified it so one person and two person CPR is the same now."

Jessica counted to five, then started over again. When she reached her third set of five compressions," Fred gave the woman two full breaths, then looked up and yelled out, "Carla?"

"The ambulance is on the way," she yelled back. "They're supposed to have a paramedic as part of the crew. They said about fifteen minutes."

"Okay, Baby. Stay there and flag them down when they get here. We're good over here."

"Okay," Carla yelled back, pacing back and forth on the road.

Kneeling in the muck beside Jessica, Audrey said, "I feel helpless. I've never been taught CPR. Is she going to live?"

Fred didn't bother answering her question, for he didn't know the answer. Then, "You might get your first CPR lesson in a few minutes. Hot as it is, none of us are going to last long." Then to Jessica, "Tell me when you're tired, and we'll swap."

"I don't want to put my mouth on her," Jessica gasped out between sets of compressions. "I will if I have to, but I don't want to."

"Crap," Fred said after administering the next breath. "Her breath smells..." He wound down as realization hit him. "Shit, she's a doper." He pulled her left arm a little out of the water. "Needle tracks, a lot of them." He remembered the flash of her slumped over the wheel as she came past. She was out, or dead when she passed. This might all be futile.

Time stood still — at least it felt like it to the four of them. Jessica slung her head in an effort to get the sweat out of her eyes, obviously beginning to struggle. "Baby, we need to swap," Fred said.

"I really don't want to put my mouth on hers," Jessica gasped out as she continued the compressions, but she wasn't counting aloud any longer — she couldn't spare the breath, although her rhythm continued to be perfect.

"I've watched you and I think I can do the breathing if you want to relieve Jessica." Audrey said to Fred.

"Okay, do this. Curve your hand around so you can pinch her nose like this. Then push her jaw forward gently to open her airway. Make sure you don't move her neck to the side or back, in case her neck is broken. Give two steady breaths as you watch her chest rise. Do it just after Jessica finishes her fifteenth compression. She's doing sets of fives, so you breathe after three sets. Okay?"

Fred watched until he was sure that Audrey was doing her part correctly. Moving around on the opposite side of the woman, he told Jessica, "Okay, I've got it now."

Jessica sat wearily back on her butt, wiping her dripping face with the back of her arm, heedless of the muck and four inches of water she was sitting in. "I knew CPR was hard, but I never knew it used that much energy."

Fred, concentrating on getting the compressions correct, and counting aloud to keep time, didn't answer her.

The woman suddenly threw up just as Audrey locked their mouths together to breathe for her, spraying some of the vomit into Audrey's mouth. Audrey spat, gagged, managed to turn her head to the side, and threw up as well. The volume seemed to go back to yesterday's breakfast.

"Clean her mouth out with a crooked finger," Fred ordered. "Then get back to breathing for her." When Audrey gagged again and didn't immediately comply, Fred, in a command voice, said, "Do it now!"

Audrey, now a pale shade of green and shaking, did as instructed, although she did gag a couple of times on the next few breaths.

A little later, Fred caught her eye and said, "Well done, Baby. Well done."

Audrey tried to grin at him, but the grin was a bit sickly.

Finally, a seeming eternity later, they heard a siren in the distance. Carla stood in the middle of the highway waving her arms to the ambulance and pointing to where the rest of her family was.

A little later, a man dressed in a blue uniform and carrying a case, appeared on the lip of the embankment. He turned to yell back at his partner. "Bring the backboard. This ain't gonna be fun."

"Fred, can I do anything?" Carla called out as she appeared beside the paramedic.

Fred, too busy doing compressions, didn't answer.

"Yeah," Jessica called out to her mother. "Can you throw us a couple bottles of water? She threw up and Audrey got some in her mouth, plus we all need a drink."

"Hang on," Carla said as she turned to run toward the RV.

"There are a couple of deep spots just about where you ... are," Jessica called out to the paramedic and the EMT as they waded across the ditch and swamp. But she wasn't in time. The EMT with the backboard stepped in a hole and went under. The paramedic, holding his case above his head, stopped for a second to make sure of his partner. "You okay?" he asked as the other man sputtered to the surface.

"Yeah, I'm just peachy," he grumped, fighting to not curse, since he had received a reprimand for doing just that at an accident scene the previous week. "At least the ... board floats," he finished as he retrieved the errant piece of equipment.

"You going to relieve us?" Fred asked a moment later as the two climbed out of the ditch and knelt near them.

"Not yet," the paramedic said as he tried to wipe the water off his stethoscope with his shirt collar. Then, "Okay. Stop for a minute."

After listening, he opened his box. "Okay, continue while we get an IV started, and get her prepped to go."

"Jessica, can you catch?" Carla yelled as she stood on the brink of the embankment.

Jessica got up and moved over to the side. "Throw it. I'm ready."

Jessica caught two out of the three bottles of water that her mother threw. Mother and daughter were both proud of their little feat. A moment later, Jessica held an open bottle for Fred as he took a couple of gulps. Then she moved around to Audrey who swished a mouthful of water and spat, then drank greedily. Jessica finished the bottle herself. There had been few times in her life when water had tasted so good.

The IV started, collar in place, and the woman strapped to the backboard, the paramedic looked at the others, "All right, we're ready to transport. Sir, I need you to take over one end of the board. I'll take over the ambu bag..."

"What about compressions?" Fred said.

"We'll stop midway and I'll do a set if the water isn't too deep. She'll only be without for a minute or less each time. Remember, the safety of rescue personnel comes first. I need you, young lady," he said looking at Jessica, "to go ahead to guide us so we don't step in that hole again. We're going to go slow. Ma'am if you'll hang onto this," he said, handing the IV bag to Audrey. "If we work together, we'll have her in the rig in no time. Guess I'll have to come back for my case."

The trip across was slow and cumbersome, and they stopped twice so the paramedic could give her a series of compressions. After they got the woman into the ambulance, Fred jogged back across the road to half-wade and half-swim across the ditch towards the paramedic's kit, snagged it and then waded more carefully back. As he approached the ambulance, the paramedic was listening with his stethoscope. He looked up at Fred, "Right now, I have a heartbeat, but I wouldn't bet on it continuing," he said as he adjusted the ventilator. Fred slid the case in beside the paramedic.

"Thanks, I was dreading going back for it."

"No problem. I guess you noticed the needle tracks?" Fred said. "She was slumped over the wheel when she passed us."

The paramedic pointed to her left arm. "Yeah, looks like she has several fresh tracks, too. I'd bet on an overdose."

Fred thought that was obvious, but didn't comment.

A sheriff's deputy had arrived a few minutes after the paramedics had reached the woman. After the woman was loaded into the ambulance, Jessica had gone back to the Cherokee and brought the woman's purse to the deputy. Profusely grateful, he had repeatedly thanked her, for he would have had to stay in wet clothes for the rest of the shift if he had gone into the water.

The deputy walked over to the ambulance, "Is she going to make it, Toby?"

"Don't know. Her heart started back after we got her in the ambulance and we got her intubated and the O2 on her. There are a lot of needle tracks; looks like an overdose. There are no obvious serious injuries, although she could certainly have internal injuries from the wreck. I think all the muck and water cushioned her when she hit in the swamp, though. That's about all I can tell you."

The deputy grimaced. "We have a double homicide on the west side of the county. Everything we have is tied up with that. Wreck isn't going anywhere. I just talked to the captain and he said for me to take a bunch of pictures and get all I could from the witnesses. If the lady dies, the detectives and coroner will just have to come out and do the investigation then."

"We're getting ready to roll. Doc will be able to tell you more after he checks her out, I guess."

Fred had stepped aside to talk with Carla when Brenda spoke up for the first time since the wreck. "Go with her, Baby. Go with her."

We've done all we can, Hon. There's no use... 

"Go with her, Fred. And I mean right now ... Please."

Fred turned to Carla and whispered to her. "Brenda is insistent that I go in the ambulance. Keys are in the ignition. My billfold is on the dash. I'll meet you at the hospital."

Carla pushed a fresh bottle of water into his hand without saying a word. He kissed her and quickly walked the few steps over to the ambulance, carrying his shoes. "I'm going with you," he told the paramedic as he got in the back of the ambulance.

"Not necessary, Sir," the paramedic said. "We only allow a family member to..."

"I didn't ask," Fred said as he reached out and pulled the ambulance door closed behind him. "Let's roll," he called out to the EMT who had just seated himself in the driver's seat.

One look at the big man's face and the paramedic didn't bother telling him that family rode up front. He just mentally shrugged and continued with his patient.

Fred had heard too many tales about ambulance personnel failing to continue CPR on the way to the hospital, only starting back as they pulled into the driveway — DOA at the hospital. He didn't know whether the stories were true or not, but if this little lass needed CPR on the way, she was going to get it.

As the ambulance pulled away, its siren beginning to wail, Audrey leaned over as she wrung muddy water out of her hair, and asked Carla, "Can you drive the RV?"

"Never tried. But I can drive an eighteen wheeler. This should be a piece of cake."

The deputy walked over to them. "Why don't you ladies go ahead and change into dry clothes? You can follow me in. I have to see what the doctor says, anyway. No use rushing behind the ambulance, when you get to the hospital it will just be hurry up and wait."

"Thank you, officer," Carla said. "We'll do that."

Jessica came out of the RV with towels, tossing Audrey one as she rubbed briskly at her own hair. "Crap, I was going to give Fred a towel," Jessica said as they watched the ambulance disappear in the distance.

"The paramedic will have something he can dry off with," the deputy said.

"Don't go off and leave us," Carla cautioned the deputy, "I have no idea where the hospital is."

"I won't, Ma'am. You can't miss it, anyway. It's straight down the road about thirty miles. If you folks want to change out of those wet clothes, I still need to work on my wreck report. Might as well do it right here. It should take me ten or fifteen minutes to finish up what I can do on the scene."

"Thanks, we'll be quick," Carla returned as she, Jessica and Audrey hurried into the RV.

-------

Breakfast over, Caitlin on the way to work, Joyce in bed asleep, Dave and Evie gone to check on other projects, Jeff sat in the living room and hit the remote for the idiot box. A couple minutes later, the girls trooped in and Nicki pushed the Mute button on the remote as Whitney climbed onto Jeff's lap. "We're on the way to class, but we wanted to come by and thank you."

"For what?" Jeff asked.

"We know you did something to us last night. We've overheard a couple things mentioned since we got here, so we know you have something that makes people feel better, or something. Whatever. All three of us woke up after having a vivid, sort-of dream about a blue light, and ... we feel wonderful this morning. Even Nat didn't grump when I woke her," she laughed.

Nat stuck her tongue out at Whitney.

Jeff smiled at them. "Well, I'm glad, uuump..." he mumbled as Whitney put her mouth against his, her tongue licking his lips and asking for entrance.

"Baby," Jeff tried to say, then gave up and kissed her.

Not to be outdone, the other two took their turns, all three making sure they pressed their braless breasts against his chest as they kissed him. Done, a giggling trio left him with a raging hard-on.

As Jeff tried to rearrange his cock to a more comfortable position in his jeans, he noticed his four younger wives. "What's the matter, Dad?" Arlene, oh-so-innocently asked as they all came over and she rubbed an index finger over the bulge in his pants.

"You very well know 'what's the matter, ' Minx," Jeff laughed. "Did you put them up to doing that?"

"Moi?" she answered, exaggerating the word. "Now why in the world would you think something like that?" But she was having trouble keeping her face straight. "Actually, it was Mom who told them where you were and suggested that they stop by and thank you on the way to class. Of course, she didn't exactly have to twist their arms to get them to do it."

Before Jeff could comment, "We have an assignment," Arlene continued. "We have to run."

After Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa kissed him, they hurried out the door.

His hard-on didn't seem to want to go down and he figured Diana and Laura were already in class, so he couldn't expect any relief from them. Crap, it seems ridiculous to think about jerking off when I have nine wives. Shit, if they figure it out, they'll tease me for a month. With the way Diana is keyed to me, she'll probably feel it or something. Still, his dick was so hard it hurt, but he was ashamed of getting an erection from the girls. He had just decided to get up and go to the bedroom. Maybe Diana won't realize what I'm doing if I do it in the shower.

Helen walked in with a big smile on her face. "A little birdie told me you had a problem."

By then, she had settled on his lap. "Oh, it does feel like you do have a problem," she said, moving her shapely ass around to rub his hard dick.

"Helen, please don't do that. I know you have a class starting and I'm trying to get my dick to go down..."

Helen gently kissed him. "I love you," she whispered, their lips now almost touching.

"I love you, too, Baby."

"You said something yesterday about bending me over a couch," she said, standing.

"But you have a class..."

"Arlene is taking care of that for me," she answered, dropping her shorts and panties. Leaning over the back of a couch, she looked over her shoulder. "Well?"

A little later, Arlene stammered and squeezed her legs together as she said something to Nat. All of Jeff's wives shivered at the same time as Helen slumped across the back of the couch completely out. Jeff grinned as he picked up his genius to lay her on the couch in a more comfortable position, her pussy drooling sperm. Life was good.



-------

Chapter 55


The muted wail of the siren accompanied them as Fred did compressions and the paramedic talked to the doctor on the phone. As the paramedic hung up, "Stop compressions and let's check her."

Fred sat back and waited. After a moment, "We've got a pulse again, but who knows how long it will last this time." This had been the second cycle of her heart stopping, then restarting after compressions since they had left the scene of the accident a short while ago.

Toby, the paramedic, now that he had caught up on his medications, cleaned and bandaged several small cuts to the woman's arms and hands, then cleaned as much of her face as he could get to, but with her intubated, that wasn't much. The monitor continued to show an erratic heartbeat, but at least her heart was trying.

"Think she's going to make it?" Fred asked.

Toby looked at him. "We're not supposed to..."

"I'm a retired cop," Fred interrupted, "and before you start thinking I'm not old enough to retire, I'm a lot older than you think I am. I'm not going to run my mouth and spout off about anything you say. Now, what do you think about her chances?"

Toby sighed, "I think there's a good possibility she's been too long without oxygen to her brain. How long do you think it was until you got to her?"

Fred tried to stretch out his legs, but in the cramped space, it was almost impossible. "I've gone over and over that in my mind. Best I can figure is about four, maybe five minutes at the outside before I began breathing for her and Jessica started compressions."

"That's easily within a full-recovery time frame," the paramedic said, "but ... how long was she not breathing before that, and ... what stopped her heart to start with? Was it the wreck? But if it was an overdose, which I strongly suspect, then whatever she took might have truly ended her life, no matter how diligent you people were, or what I managed to do for her. CPR doesn't fix what's wrong, just maintains life until a doctor can, maybe ... take care of the problem. So the answer is: no way to tell yet. Nothing we can do except keep her body going until we get to the hospital, then leave it up to the ER doctor and the other personnel there. They have the equipment to find out what's going on."

Fred looked down at the young woman lying on the gurney. She appeared thin — frail. She was obviously braless under the too-tight stretch top and the skin-tight blue jeans, her long, possibly, dark red hair matted and caked in mud. The color was hard to tell under the circumstances.

"Yeah, about what I thought," Fred replied. "And it's a shame, too. Even with her hair screwed up like that and the muck on her, it's still obvious that she's a pretty girl."

"Got that right," Toby said. "Unfortunately, I've seen a lot of good-looking women hanging around dope houses. Most of them will do anything for another hit. Once they get on crack or some of the other hard stuff, they usually don't last long. AIDS, hepatitis, overdose, or something else usually kills them within a year or two."

"Yeah, I've seen it as well," Fred sighed. "They all think they can try a hit one time and then leave it alone. They're all wrong. They lose their jobs, homes, husbands, families ... everything. Eventually, their lives." There was silence from the two for a moment as they stared at the young woman, then, "Sorry to be dripping all over your ambulance."

Toby chuckled, finally having time to really look at the big man across from him. His pants, from the knees down, were caked in the black, evil-smelling mud of the swamp. His hair was sweat-soaked, and his shirt, wet as the rest of him, was torn down one side. The paramedic looked closer, then said, "Looks like something put a pretty good scratch down your side. We need to clean that up."

"Later," Fred said. "I'll have Carla take care of it. I got tangled in a bush just as we were coming off that bank with her."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm too frigin' wet to worry with it right now."

"Well, okay. Suit yourself, but I'll be glad to take care of it for you if you change your mind. Oh, and about the dripping; we're all dripping. Although, it does look like you have a good bit more mud on you than I do. And, trust me, I know how tiring CPR can be. Most people at an accident scene, either do nothing, go into hysterics, or do something stupid."

"Yeah, the women did a fine job," Fred agreed.

"And you?" the paramedic questioned.

"Wasn't my first rodeo," Fred chuckled. "Remember, I'm a retired cop. And speaking of that, with the way we look, I'll bet those nurses don't even offer us a cup of coffee when we get to the ER." He had made the remark as a joke, but was more than halfway serious.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Toby replied. "Muddy and wet, we still smell better than I did a couple of months ago when I brought a patient in, though. This farmer fell through the loft of his barn and landed in a cattle stall that needed mucking out really bad. He had a broken arm and leg, not to say anything about a severe concussion. By the time we had him stabilized and on the board, we were all covered in piss and cow shit. Then just as we started to take him out of the stall, my right foot went out from under me on the slick concrete. Screwed up my knee."

"How did you get him out of there if you were hurt, too?"

"Guy's brother got there about that time and took my end of the board. I hobbled to the rig and managed to take care of my patient on the way to the hospital. One of the security guards helped us get him out of the ambulance and into the hospital, but by then I couldn't even stand up. They brought out a wheelchair for me, and put me in a room next to my patient. That charge nurse was not pleased at us smelling up her ER, but other than grousing at me, she gave me excellent care. The nurses and doctors have been kidding me mercilessly ever since I've been back to work."

"How long were you off?"

"A month. I got by without an operation, but the therapy was a bitch. And ... my insurance paid only about seventy-five percent of the therapy costs. The hospital is supposed to make up the difference, but they haven't yet. Workmen's comp also screwed me out of some money," He broke off as he watched the monitor. "Crap, looks like she's bradying down again." (Heart rate slowing drastically.)

"I'll do it," Fred said as he readied himself for the compressions.

-------

Fred watched the paramedic and the EMT hurriedly push the gurney through the emergency room doors before he turned toward the waiting room entrance. "Fred, we need to be with her," Brenda said in his mind.

Baby, it's not like when I was a cop. They won't let me go in there right now.

"They will if you tell them you're her brother. They'll let family see her as soon as they get her stable."

Baby, I seriously doubt they'll be able to get her stable. You heard what the paramedic said,  Fred thought back to his dead wife.

"Fred, don't back down on this. I want you with her. You have to be there."

Baby, why do you say that? I can't do anything for her now.

"I ... don't know. I just know you have to be with her," Brenda insisted.

Inside, he found a seat in a corner of the waiting room and settled in, an impatient Brenda figuratively pacing in his mind. A few minutes later, a heavyset nurse about sixty, wearing a white uniform, walked into the room. Looking around, she spotted Fred and quickly walked over. He stood.

"Mr. Wilson, I presume, since you're the only one muddy and wet."

"Yeah," Fred said, "you got me."

"I think that swamp is the one that got you," she teased. "Anyway, I'm Cynthia Ellis, the charge nurse for the ER." She suddenly leaned forward a little and looked at his side. "We need to see to that. All that filth isn't good for that scratch. Might make something a lot more serious out of it if you don't get it taken care of."

"I'll get Carla to take care of it when she gets here," Fred said. He wasn't about to go into the ER for a scratch.

Ellis, apparently satisfied, went on, "Our paramedic says you're a retired cop, plus you saved Ms. Gordon's life, not to say anything about assisting Toby on the way here." When Fred hesitated for a second, she continued, "Oh, the deputy who worked the wreck called her name in to us from her driver's license."

"Well, I don't know about saving her life. If we did save her life, it was because of all our efforts, not just mine."

"Yeah, that's about what Toby said. Anyway, we'll get you cleaned up and into some fresh scrubs until your family gets here. If you will follow me, please," she finished, turning to walk out of the waiting room.

Shortly, they turned into a hallway and Fred put a hand lightly on Ellis' shoulder to halt her. "Uh, Ma'am, I need to talk to you." When Ellis stopped and turned to him, he looked her in the eye and said, "I can't give you the full reason right now, but I need to stay close to Ms. Gordon. How about you listing me as a relative: her brother?"

"Mr. Wilson, ever hear of HIPPA? Short and sweet is that I can't tell you a thing about the patient or let you stay with her without violating a law that has become quite popular for the feds to enforce ... I'm not risking my license this close to retirement."

"List me as her brother, then. I'm telling you I'm her brother. I'll sign anything you want me to."

"Look, Mr. Wilson, you told the cop and our paramedic that you were traveling and she passed you and wrecked. That you didn't know her..."

"Fred, don't you back down on this," Brenda said again in his mind. "You do whatever you have to, to stay with her."

"What say I sign your paperwork as the responsible party — her brother? If I'm paying for it, surely you can cut me a little slack."

"You're not her..."

"Let's get real here for a minute," Fred interrupted, his voice taking on a change the nurse had never quite heard before. "How many dope addicts do you know with insurance? The hospital is going to eat her costs, and I'm volunteering as her brother to assume them. Now, I surely appreciate your being so nice to me, and I don't want to make you mad at me, but I really need to stay with her as much as I can. I'd be willing to bet that your little hospital is struggling to make ends meet with the way our economy is right now. So why don't we strike us a deal? Scratch my back a little, and I'll scratch yours — within reason. I'm going to want an itemized bill when this is done. I'm far from being rich, but I can pay the hospital bill if you don't stick it to me too much. I'll pay insurance rates. Tell billing to not try to soak me with anything else."

They stood staring at each other. After a moment, "We need to get you cleaned up; after that, some paperwork. By then, we should know more about your sister's prognosis. I'll talk to billing; I can't guarantee anything."

"Just remember, it's a deal breaker, it's insurance rates for everything, or I pay nothing."

"I understand. I'll do what I can."

-------

Jessica and Audrey had very quickly rinsed off in the RV shower while the deputy took several more pictures then got back into his car to write up his paperwork. Dressed, they joined Carla and waited. A little later, the deputy blipped his siren, and Carla tapped her horn in response. After all the excitement of the last minutes, the trip in to the hospital was boring and seemed longer than it was. When they finally saw the hospital a couple of blocks in front of them, Carla began to worry about a place to park. The facility was on the main road through town, but there were "No Parking" signs and yellow curbs for a block or so around the hospital. The front parking lot would never take the big RV and its tow.

The deputy slid his window down and put his arm out, motioning them to stop behind him. He stood partially up and yelled back to them to follow him to a parking place.

"He had better realize I can't back this thing up," Carla muttered as they turned right on the next street past the hospital. Following the patrol car to a back parking lot, Carla breathed a sigh of relief as the deputy turned in. When he motioned to an area, she pulled over and came to a halt. There were only a few larger vehicles back here, and the way the lot was situated, she could drive out the other side without having to even turn around. Downside: the hospital was more than a block away.

She pressed the button to open the door as the deputy got out of his car and approached. Jessica held a coke out to him as he stepped in.

"Thank you, Ma'am. That will go really good right now." He stopped to open the bottle, take a long drink and glance around at his surroundings. Then, "Wow. This place is great," he said, as he took in the luxury of the Tourmaster.

I wonder what their relationship is? he thought as he told Jessica thanks for the coke, striving manfully to keep his eyes away from her breasts. Whatever their relationship is with the guy that left in the ambulance with Toby, he's a lucky man.

"That's the back door to the hospital over there," he said, pointing through the front window. "It's mostly used by the employees, but we're pretty laid back around here. If anyone says anything to you, just tell them you had to park in the back lot because you're in an RV. I have to check with the ER doctor about the lady, anyway, so if you're ready, we can all go together. The place is confusing going in the back, since the ER is on the other side of the building, but there are signs you can follow."

After they got out of the RV and Carla had locked the door, the deputy suddenly realized he had not introduced himself. "I'm deputy McCullom, by the way."

When the introductions were over, McCullom smiled at Jessica. "Again, I really appreciate your getting the victim's purse out of her vehicle for me. I was able to see the tag and run it through the computer system to get the VIN for my report, but I sure wasn't looking forward to wading out there to look for her ID."

"No problem, officer," Jessica said as they started for the hospital. "I was wet anyway. No use your getting wet just to get her purse. I saw it sort of floating inside the Cherokee when I checked to see if anyone was still in there."

As they walked past the deputy's car, he decided to leave his vehicle in the back lot and walk with the women, even though there was a reserved parking space for police right next to the emergency entrance. He told himself he was just being nice to strangers. If the women noticed, they didn't comment.

After a short, but embarrassing silence, the deputy said, "Lots of times I go a whole shift without receiving a serious call. Today, all hel ... uh, we had a couple of bad things happen at almost the same time, yet dispatch hasn't given anyone a single call since the homicides and the wreck. It's kinda feast or famine as far as calls are concerned. Of course, that gives me time to follow up on the lady in the Cherokee. If she lives, it becomes just another wreck. If she dies, there will be an investigation that will wind up with the detectives finally saying the same thing I've already put in my report." he finished, having wanted to get into the detective division for two years.

Shortly, the deputy led them through a maze of hallways to the emergency room waiting room.

"Where do you suppose Fred is?" Carla wanted to know when it was instantly obvious that her lover wasn't in the waiting room.

"Probably in the back. We have some pretty nice folks here. I doubt if they would let him sit out here in wet clothes after what he's done. I'll go back and check on the girl and tell him you're here."

"Would you give Fred these?" Carla said as she handed the deputy a bundle of clothes in a plastic bag.

"Sure. I imagine he'll be ready for them," he chuckled as he turned to leave. "I'll let you know something as soon as I can."

-------

Jeff. Come to the back door and help me with something,  Dave said over the PA.

Wonder what he wants,  Jeff thought as he got up from his impromptu nap on a recliner and jogged down the hall. I wish they would hurry up and get through with the firing range so I can work in my lab. Not having anything to do was great when we first moved up here. I guess it was basically the first time in my life that's happened, well, to any great extent, anyway, but now I'm bored.

Jeff rounded the last corner and was quickly to the mudroom where he found Dave and a frustrated Evie.

"I told him I could do this," Evie said, "but he wouldn't listen. He didn't have to call you."

Dave looked embarrassed. "Honey, I know you can do it, but there's no use. Shit, with the end table on that hand truck..."

"So, my feet came off the floor as I was trying to pull the hand truck over enough to balance it. That darned end table is heavy. But once it's balanced, it's no problem to push the thing down the hallway."

Evie wasn't exactly pissed, but she wasn't totally happy either. Jeff just stood grinning. No way was he going to get crossways with the little spitfire.

Dave tried again, hoping he wouldn't be sleeping on the couch tonight. "Look, Baby, I know you like to do everything the men do, but none of them are on this floor to see you, so you don't have to prove anything. I slid the tables off the tailgate and onto the stoop. You got the table into the mudroom, and were straining your guts out. If the hand truck wheels catch on the slightest depression, your ass is going up in the air and you'll dump the table." Then exasperated, "Damnit, Evie, there are a lot of things you do better than I do, but you don't have enough ass to do this."

Even Jeff could see the cloud start on Evie's face after that remark.

"Oh, shit, Baby. That didn't come out right. But it is an exceptionally fine ass, though," Dave tried to recoup.

"Name one," Evie said, putting her hands on her hips and staring up at her tall husband.

"One? One what?"

"You said there were a lot of things I do better than you do — name one," Evie hissed out.

Dave stood like a statue, his mind suddenly going blank.

"And don't come up with any of that bullshit about I can have babies and you can't, or I can give milk and you can't."

Dave wasn't sure if Evie were serious or just messing with him, but he began to sweat, anyway. We never argue. Where in the hell did this come from? he thought. I just didn't want her straining her guts out trying to move that heavy end table.

"I'm waiting," Evie sweetly said — too sweetly.

"Well, uh," then it hit him. "Uh, remember when we were doing that cabinet work that time. Hell, I can't touch you with a router, and you know it. And everybody says you're the best with a front end loader they have ever seen. Remember when I backed into that car with the loader?"

Evie suddenly reached up, grabbed his neck to pull his face down to her, and kissed him hard. Before Dave could really respond, she walked off, swinging her hips.

Both men stood watching her until she turned the corner. "What brought that on?" Dave asked.

Jeff looked at him as if he had lost his mind, "You're asking me? I can't keep up with my own wives, let alone yours."

Jeff reached up and with one hand to hold the table and the other on the hand truck, pulled the truck over until it balanced. If it took any effort, it didn't show. Dave did the same thing, and they started down the hall.

"Now what's the big secret about these end tables?" Jeff asked. "You told us to empty our junk out of them, and said they would be gone a couple days. Now they're back, and I don't see any difference," he finished as he pulled the padding up a little to look under it as they walked beside each other down the hall.

"Wait until we get them back in your bedroom."

Shortly, the two men turned into the Matthews' sitting room as Evie held the door open. "I hold doors pretty well, too," Evie said to her husband as he passed.

"Yes, Dear," Dave said.

"I'll 'yes, Dear' your ass," Evie quipped back as she grabbed Dave's jean-covered butt and pushed a finger, unerringly, against his asshole.

"Oh, shit, stop that," Dave said, almost losing the balance of the hand truck as he reached a hand behind himself to try and fend off her finger.

"Dave Henson, don't you dare drop my table," Diana said with her hands on her hips.

"No, Ma'am," Dave said as he froze, trying desperately to ignore the finger that was trying to worm its way up his butt.

Diana turned back toward the bedroom before she started laughing. Then holding the door for the men, she made a sweeping gesture with her hand. Dave was only too glad to start moving again for he was anxious to set the table down so he could extract his briefs from the crack of his ass.

"These things are solid," Dave said a few minutes later as he pulled the packing material from around the end table, while Jeff did the same thing with his. "No telling what Frank paid for them," he finished, rubbing his hand down the subtly glistening wood of the top.

"Got a plug for this ... Oh, here's one," he said, interrupting himself.

"Why do our end tables suddenly need an electrical outlet?" Jeff asked, as he slid his table into position after finding a receptacle, too.

By that time, Evie was back with a stack of dampened washcloths. She knelt in front of the table that her husband had brought in, pulled a drawer open and put the washcloths inside. "The drawer is designed to be watertight and has a thermostat to keep the damp cloths a constant warm temperature. This one here," she continued as she closed the first drawer and pulled out the one below it, "also has a warmer, and is designed to keep small towels warm. The controls are on the back of the tables."

Jeff's face was gradually turning darker. "Oh, look," Evie giggled, "I think he's blushing. Looks like he's figured it out."

Diana grabbed Evie, hugged her, then did the same thing to Dave — a full frontal hug, where he could definitely feel that she was female.

"Thank you. What a thoughtful gift. With nine of us and the sperm factory over there," she said, motioning to her husband, "we use a lot of wash cloths and towels. Now we won't have to go into the vanity area to dampen them. Thank you two so much."

"Yeah, thanks guys," Jeff got out, but with Evie's knowing grin, his face only became redder.

"Let me know after you try them out," Evie said. "We're thinking about doing our end tables the same way."

"We'll definitely try them out tonight," Diana said as she stepped over to snuggle against her husband's side. "Right, Hubby?"

"Uh, yeah. Right," Jeff agreed, wanting the subject to be changed.

"Jeff, I, uh, need to run a few things past you, if you have time," Dave said.

"Oh, I have time," Jeff said quickly. "I have plenty of time." The two men were shortly out of sight.

Diana and Evie looked at each other and burst out laughing.

-------

Caitlin found Jeff in the living room and sat in his lap.

"And how did your day go, My Lovely?"

She kissed him, then whispered, "You always make me feel special."

"Well, you are special. Now how was your day?"

Caitlin took a breath and a moment to think. "I don't really know. We had a meeting with the reps and the head of procurement, and of course, Mr. Adair was there. I got to listen to a ... bunch of words without meaning, as far as I'm concerned."

"Blather, I call it," Jeff said.

"Yeah, that fits, but ... I don't know." Caitlin hesitated for a moment, yet again, then, "Somehow I get the impression that I wasn't supposed to be hired. I mean, I don't think they realized that I was associated with you until it was too late. Something is going on, and I'm not sure what it is."

Jeff thought for a moment. "So your gut is telling you there is something wrong, but you don't know enough yet to say exactly what?"

Caitlin sighed and looked toward the fire for a moment. "Jeff, I'm just a nurse. I thought I would get a nursing job close to home. Denver is just too far to commute. Then I ran my mouth and wound up with a change of job description. So now, I'm the nurse from the big hospital who has come in to review all the hospital's nursing equipment and show these people how to do things," she said sarcastically. "I have two guys — those two in purchasing that I told you about — who just rub me the wrong way. They act like they know something I don't, and they act ... condescending to me. Oh, not overly so, but just enough to notice. And Mr. Adair ... heck, I don't know how to describe him, but my impression is that he's in over his head."

Caitlin teased a cuticle with her teeth, something Jeff had never seen her do before. He took her hand and moved it away from her mouth, then kissed her hard. Straining to reach the phone on a nearby table, he grabbed the instrument and dialed. "Billy? Jeff ... Yeah, we're great. How's the family? ... Good. Look, I have some suspicions about where the money is going that the foundation is donating to the hospital. How much have we sent them so far? ... Okay, that's fine. Get hold of the attorney and hold up with the rest of the money for now. It's supposed to come to them in five increments, right? ... If they call, just stall them and let me know ... Yeah, you too. Take care."

Caitlin sat up straight on his lap as Jeff hung up. "Baby, I don't..."

"Caitlin, I'm alive several times over because of gut feelings. If you're wrong, no harm done, but if you're right..."

"Oh, shit, Jeff, this puts a terrible responsibility on me. I'm new there, I can barely find my way around. What if there's nothing wrong?"

"Hush. Just keep your eyes open and let things happen. You're supposed to be learning your unit and checking out the hospital's equipment. Right? Just continue to do that."

"I'm going to work a nurse position in my ICU tomorrow. I need to earn the respect of the people I work with and learn how they do things in the unit. I won't be able to do much toward finding out what's going on."

"Earn their trust first; you might find out a lot more when you do. Might find out a lot without even having to look for it."

Caitlin leaned her head on his shoulder, her breath on his neck. "Will you make love to me, please? Nice, slow, gentle love. Tell me I'm your wife and show me that you love me, please."

Jeff kissed her, then stood with her in his arms. She snuggled to him as they walked toward the bedroom.



-------

Chapter 56

Several people have asked for an updated character list.



Jeff's wives to date:

Diana is Jeff's first wife; their daughter is Arlene.

Laura is Diana's long-time friend, and her daughter is Ann. Ann was the virgin with the armor-plated hymen.

Jennie and Melissa are Arlene's friends from Georgia whose parents were having the orgy when Jeff and the others walked in. Hope (not yet fully in the story) is from the scene in New York where her father is selling her.

Helen is the genius and the teacher.

Caitlin is the nurse.

Joyce is the county deputy. Joyce and Caitlin came in as a twofer.

Kayla (not a wife, yet) is from the base and helped Jeff on his mission with Ingles.

Nat, Nicki, and Whitney are the three orphan girls who were rescued from Ingles. Nat and Nicki are twins, but although much alike, are not identical.

Susan is Diana's mother.

Dave is the contractor and Jeff's project manager.

Evie is Dave's first wife and the assistant project manager.

Linda is Captain Bill Madison's daughter and Dave's second wife.

Kim is Dave's third wife who worked at his office with her mother.

Captain Bill Madison is Wainwright's chief pilot. Jill is his first wife who Ingles hypnotized and kidnapped. Kathy is Bill's second wife and copilot. Linda is his daughter.

Frank Wainwright owned the retreat before Jeff, and the retreat was part of the deal for the patent rights to Jeff's invention.

Margaret is Wainwright's chief executive and lover — soon to be his wife.

Fred Wilson is Jeff's long-time friend from Georgia, a retired cop who owned and sold a detective agency after making considerable money by solving insurance claims that no one else could — mostly because he could instantly tell who was lying.

Carla is the widow from the farm, and who is now Fred's lover.

Jessica is Carla's daughter and also Fred's lover.

Audrey is the camp owner who became another of Fred's lovers while on their trip in the RV.

Alesha Turcott is the woman who helped save Joyce's life when she was shot.

Deputy Jessie Goodman is the deputy who helped save Joyce's life and who is dating Alesha. He frequently eats meals at the retreat. Jeff is rebuilding Jessie's pickup since he blew the engine to get to Joyce.



-------

IN FLORIDA:

A little earlier in the day, Deputy McCullom found Carla, Jessica and Audrey in the ICU waiting room.

"Any change?" he asked as he walked over to them.

Carla motioned for him to sit in a chair just in front of her. As he did so, "No, they finally have her settled in the ICU. She's still just lying there with the ventilator breathing for her. The hospitalist and another doctor are running tests to find out what she's on, but I think most of the results haven't come back yet." (The hospitalist position tends to vary slightly from hospital to hospital, but most are case managing physicians, just as primary care physicians can be out of the hospital.)

McCullom cleared his throat and looked at each of the women. "Uh, our detectives are tied up on that double homicide, and when I told the detective lieutenant that Ms. Gordon might not make it, he asked me to take your statements."

"I thought you already did that," from Jessica, who was sitting on one side of her mother, with Audrey on the other side.

"Uh, I did. At least I wrote in my wreck report generally what all of you told me. But I need to get a statement from each of you — a written statement. You can just write it out in longhand."

Carla stood. "Okay, let me tell Fred where we'll be, and we can go back to the RV. There are too many people in and out of here to concentrate."

"Uh, that's fine, Ma'am. But I don't need a collaborated statement. I mean, I need each of you to write down what happened in detail just as you remember it — without talking to each other to refresh your memory or anything."

Shortly, Carla went into the unit long enough to tell Fred what was going on, then they followed the deputy through the maze of the hospital toward the back.

"I think they lock this door at seven," McCullom said as he held the back door open for the women. "You'll have to walk around to the front until 6:00 A.M. when the nurses start arriving for day shift."

"Thanks, Deputy, uh, there's something I need to ask you," Carla said as they started toward the parking lot.

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"It's getting close to five, but do you know of a catering service around here?"

"Uh, yes, Ma'am. There are a couple."

"I want some food for the night shift nurses in the ICU, and I would like breakfast served for both shifts in the morning."

"Ma'am, I'll be frank with you. That's going to be a tall order this late in the day."

"I'm willing to pay for their extra work," Carla said as she looked hard at the deputy.

"Well, I'm not supposed to do this, since she's family, but I know the other place will rip you off to get something delivered in the middle of the night. Uh, my sister-in-law owns one of the catering services. I doubt if she would be able to do anything too fancy this late, but I'll bet she could get something here during the night. Whether she could turn right around and have breakfast for two shifts on such short notice, I don't know. She wouldn't be able to get much sleep after you figure in her prep time."

"So she has too much business to work a few extra hours tonight?" Carla said, knowing the answer, but goading him a little.

"No, Ma'am," deputy McCullom quickly replied. "To be frank, she's struggling and could surely use the business. My brother will probably be piss ... uh, be upset when he finds out she is going to have to work late, though — and early. But I can handle him. But, uh, please promise me that you won't tell anyone at my department that I recommended her to you."

"You've got it, Deputy."

As Carla hit the remote and the door opened to the RV, he continued while pulling out his phone, "Let me get in touch with her first thing and give her notice so she doesn't leave work. You can talk to her and tell her what you need. We'll make it happen one way or the other."

Jessica caught her mother's eye and rubbed thumb and fingers together to indicate money, then winked while the deputy was dialing his cell. Carla smiled back at her. Fred said to make these people happy,  she thought. First, we fill their bellies.

Shortly, Deputy McCullom closed his cell phone. "She's going to call me back as soon as she gets in touch with her help that has just left. I told her roughly what you wanted, so you can just talk to her when she calls back."

Soon, his phone rang and he answered, then put Carla on.

"Come on Deputy, we can sit inside and get started on our statements while Mom is talking to the caterer," Jessica said, and led him into the RV. "Sit there," she said, pointing to a comfortable chair. "Do you drink coffee? I'm going to make some."

"Cat got a climbing gear?" the deputy teased.

"Have you eaten supper?" Audrey asked.

"Well, no Ma'am, but I'll..."

"Nonsense. We're just going to have sandwiches, but there's no sense your just sitting there watching us eat. So relax. Jessica and I will get some sandwiches going, then we'll boot up our laptops and get your statements done. Unless you just want to come back later and pick them up?"

"Uh, no Ma'am. I'm supposed to stay and make sure you don't collaborate on them," he said, obviously embarrassed. "LT knows it will take a while."

Carla came into the RV and handed the deputy his phone. "She surely seems like a nice lady. And to be honest with you, she didn't charge me as much as I expected."

"What's going on?" Carla asked Jessica.

"Well, we have to eat, and Deputy McCullom was nice enough to agree to eat a sandwich with us. After that, it's statement time."

"Good idea," Carla said, smiling at the deputy.

-------

An hour later, they had eaten, typed and printed out their statements. The deputy had read each one carefully, but had asked for a word or two to be scratched through and changed by hand, then the change initialed. When he left to go have Fred write out his statement, "What did he do that for?" Jessica asked. "And he wouldn't let us make the change on the computer and print it out again. The page looked sloppy when we were done."

"Looked sloppy," Carla chuckled, "but there is no way we could ever deny what we signed after making those handwritten 'corrections' and initialing them."

"Of course that's what he was doing," Audrey laughed. "But he never acted like it. That bashful act is just that — an act. That man is smarter than he first appears."

"Darned good looking, too," Jessica said with a big smile. "If we didn't already have the best man in the world, I would be checking out one Deputy McCullom."

They all giggled like schoolgirls, then, "I guess we need to take Fred something to eat," Jessica said.

"Let's give him about thirty minutes to get through with the deputy, before we go over. He's used a lot of energy today, so we need to take extra food," Carla agreed.

-------

Shortly after 8:00 P.M. the women walked back from the hospital to the RV, Fred having insisted that they get some rest. Carla had agreed but told him she would be back around midnight when the food was to arrive for the nurses.

As they sat in the living room of the RV, Carla put her tired feet up on the couch, looked at her watch, then sighed. "I think we need to talk to Jeff and Diana. I promised to keep them posted, and it has certainly been an eventful day. Besides, I'm worried about our man."

-------

Jeff, his wives, Kayla and the girls were all sitting in the Matthews' bedroom when the phone rang. Nicki was the closest, and Arlene nodded to her. Nicki, tentative but nevertheless previously rehearsed by Arlene, answered, "Matthews' residence, Nicki speaking ... Uh, yes Ma'am. Just a moment," and handed the phone to Jeff.

"Well done," Diana whispered in Nicki's ear. Nicki beamed out of all proportion to what should have been a very simple event. To her, it was not. She, an orphan, was being treated as family and allowed to answer the phone. Nat and Whitney seemed just as pleased.

Jeff listened to Carla for a moment, then interrupted her, "Hold on a minute, Carla. I don't want to have to repeat this. Okay to put you on speaker?" When she agreed, Jeff pressed the button and set the phone back in its cradle near the bed. "Alright, we're all in our bedroom and listening. Start at the beginning, please, and tell us what happened."

When Carla had finished and the questions and comments wound down, Jeff took the phone off speaker and said to Carla, "I want you to do something for me. I know Fred made a good bit of money with his percentage of the take from the insurance companies and the sale of his business, but I also know that hospital could very well blow through a large part of his savings in a hurry."

Carla took advantage of Jeff's slight hesitation to say, "We really can't understand why Brenda is so adamant we stay with this young woman, but Fred is determined we do exactly that. I've tried to reason with him, and with Brenda, but she barely responds. Fred insists that if that is what Brenda wants then that is what is going to happen."

Jeff hesitated a moment, then, "Carla, I don't know what's going on, but I long ago learned to respect Fred's judgment. I'm not going to change now. But I want you to do something for me. You still have that other debit card I gave you just before you left?"

"Yeah, I've got it, but Fred wants..."

"Carla, I don't want this to come across as if I'm talking down to you, for I certainly have no intention of trying to do anything like that." Jeff paused for a moment, then continued, "Fred is my longtime best friend. The man would literally die for me. I won't have his savings wiped out by a hospital. Remember what happened to you and your husband. I want you to use that card I gave you for emergencies. There's enough in the account to make a substantial payment on the hospital's charges. By morning there will be far more in it than the hospital bill will ever be. I want you to use that card. If Fred bitches, tell him we will settle up when you get back."

"Jeff, Fred is a proud man..."

"Indeed he is, and he's my friend, Carla. I'll make enough this week to pay that hospital bill several times over. Please, just do this for me. I promise you that you won't be in any trouble with your man. I'll take care of that. Just do whatever the hospital wants, and back Fred."

"I'm going to back him," Carla indignantly said.

"I know that," Jeff quickly responded. "I just misspoke. I didn't mean anything negative by it. Just please promise me you will use that card."

"Jeff, I..."

"Please, Carla."

Carla sighed audibly. "Okay, but Fred is going to be pissed when he finds out."

"So, don't tell him until you get back. Heck, don't tell him at all. I'll tell him myself. And if he checks his account balance and finds out that way, just call me and I'll talk to him about it."

Jeff could hear a catch in Carla's voice. "Thank you Jeff. You're a true friend."

"I'm a brother Alpha. You guys are family. Enough said. Keep us posted, Carla. I don't care if it's two in the morning, if something happens, call us — please."

"I will," Carla choked out. "Tell the others I said thank you, too. Bye."

Jeff hung up and said, more or less just thinking out loud, "Why would Fred's dead wife insist he stay with someone who has been in a wreck?"

"Dead wife?" Kayla said, sitting up straight. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Yeah," Arlene said, unable to stop herself, and not trying very hard. "'Dead wife' who is running around in his mind, and is not just a figment of his imagination. She can talk to other people if they're touching Fred."

That led to a long and involved conversation with Kayla, skeptical still, and the girls listening in awe.

-------

In the hospital, Detective Lieutenant Harry Dodson rapped his knuckles against the doorframe of the office of Doctor Daniel Harris.

The doctor looked up from what he was reading and motioned. "Come on in, Harry. When I called your wife, she said you were still at work, so I called there and they said they would get in touch with you. You on the way home now?" Harris finished as Dodson, with a barely audible sigh, slid into a seat in front of the doctor's desk.

"I will never gripe about being bored again," the detective joked.

"I said something similar to that a little earlier today. You know where the coffee is. Help yourself."

"I believe I will," the detective responded. "One of the guys brought me a hamburger and a cup of coffee around 1:00 P.M. I haven't been near a cup since, let alone supper."

Harris chuckled. "I ate something from the machine downstairs. I'm not quite sure what it was, though. I heard you had a double homicide?"

"Hang on a minute," Dodson said as he went into Harris's outer office and poured a cup of coffee. It was strong and had been there a while. Dodson didn't care.

Back in Harris's office a moment later, Dodson sat, then blew on the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. "Yeah, two brothers pissed off their dope supplier when they didn't pay their bill. He walked in with a 12 gauge and cancelled their debt; I guess you could say. Of course, half a dozen people saw him run out to his car still holding the shotgun. He's in jail and the brothers are at the coroner's. At least we didn't have to kill the bastard, or I would be doing paperwork the rest of the night. When patrol showed up at his door, he came out meek as a lamb, acting like he had no idea why we would be after him. The brothers he killed were only eighteen and twenty. I drew the short straw and had to tell their parents. I will never get used to doing something like that."

"Don't complain to a doctor about that, my friend," Harris grimly said. "I can certainly sympathize with you, though."

"So, Doc. Not that I don't like your company, but that pretty little gal I married is waiting for me at home..."

Doctor Harris picked up his pen and absently held it in front of him, rolling it in his fingers for a moment. "We have something going on here, and I'm not sure just what it is." Harris went on to explain how Fred and his family had stopped to help a stranger. "Yet, according to the ER head nurse, this Mr. Wilson suddenly said he was the patient's brother and would pay her hospital bill if he were allowed to remain close to her."

"So, is the guy a fruitcake, do you think?"

Harris sighed, "That's just it. He seems eminently reasonable about everything else, and the ER doctor said he was the same way while this patient, a Ms. Pamela Gordon, was in the ER. Mr. Wilson first indicated he didn't know this young woman, then he suddenly changed his story, said he was her brother and agreed to pay everything, with the only caveat being he be allowed to remain near her. I see that as strange, indeed."

"She the one from the wreck?"

"That's the one."

"I read McCullom's report, and the statements as well. He attached a note to the wreck report saying he didn't think her chances of living were too great. What's wrong with her?"

"We're still working on that. She had high levels of cocaine and heroin in her bloodstream, as well as dilaudid. She may have a hypoxic brain injury as well. She also has bruising of her liver, spleen and right lung. The lung injury will lead to additional challenges, as it will be more difficult to wean her from the ventilator."

"Does this guy know all that?"

"I brought him into my office and discussed her condition with him. He maintains he is her next of kin. Although none of us really believe that, it's not up to me to try and disprove it."

"What did he say when you told him about her condition?"

"He just said there is always hope. We chatted for awhile and then he asked if he could return to the unit. Normally, we only allow four, fifteen-minute visits per day in the intensive care unit, but with the way he is acting, and his taking over her bills when he didn't have to, I agreed that he could sit in her room in the unit unless the nurse asked him to leave while she worked with her patient."

"And has he complied with your rules?"

Harris dropped the pen back on his desk, leaned back and put his feet up. "Gordon's nurse, and her charge nurse as well, have only good things to say about him. He just sits there and holds the patient's hand. The nurse told me he had actually been of some assistance to her, uh, the nurse, I mean. It's doubtful the patient even knows he's there."

"So, what's your gripe, Doc?" Dodson said, a grin on his face.

A crease crossed Harris's brow for a moment. "He is supposed to be a retired police officer from a small town near Atlanta. A policeman doesn't make enough money to just step in and pay a stranger's hospital bill. No offense meant, Harry. I don't either, for that matter."

The detective looked at his friend and chuckled. "Ah, now Doc, you should have plenty of money laying around now that you don't have a wife to spend it for you. You still haven't heard from her?"

Harris hesitated, then, "I need a cup of that coffee," he suddenly said, getting up. After going to the next room and returning with the coffee, he reseated himself and put his feet back up.

"Sorry if I joked about a sore spot," Dodson said. "I should know better. I apologize. Sometimes I run off at the mouth, as you well know."

Doctor Harris stalled while he took a sip of coffee, then, "Ah, if I didn't still love her, it wouldn't hurt. Shit, I can still see that miserable bastard between her legs."

Two years prior, Harris had returned home early, walked in his back door and heard noises. His wife had been shocked to look over her lover's shoulder and meet the eyes of her husband as he entered their bedroom. According to Harris, who was the only one who would talk about the situation, his wife's lover had jumped up and after making disparaging remarks about the good doctor, had hit him in the face. Dodson suspected that the guy figured a medical doctor would be a pushover in a physical confrontation. He was wrong. A fight ensued. Harris wound up with a black eye, a busted lip, a displaced knuckle on his left hand and two broken fingers on his right. But early on, Harris managed to get a knee into the other guy's groin, and the ass whipping began in earnest. His wife's lover didn't come out nearly as well. Three broken ribs, crushed balls, his face beaten to hamburger and three teeth knocked out. They never did find out what happened to his clothes, so they took him to the hospital wrapped in a sheet. Of course, there had been a small fire in the back yard, but the cops didn't seem very curious about it, they were too busy grinning.

Since neither Harris's wife, nor her lover, would even talk to the deputies who responded to the call, Doc's story went down as the official one. When the doctor got home after having his knuckled pushed back into place and his fingers set, his wife and all her possessions were gone. A week later, her lover was released from the hospital and he promptly disappeared as well. A year after that, a detective agency managed to find Harris's wife, and she signed the divorce without comment. But Harris obviously hadn't gotten over her.

One Saturday shortly after the episode, Detective Dodson knocked on Harris's door. When Harris opened it, Dodson asked, "You got some sun block and some Off?" (Off is a popular brand of insect repellent in the South.)

"What would I..."

"Dodson jerked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate his pickup, boat and trailer parked in the doctor's yard. I've got a case of beer, a picnic lunch and all the fishing gear we need. Lock your house and let's go." Harris had argued, but Dodson threatened to handcuff and drag the doctor with him. In the end, the doctor gave up and went fishing.

After the first trip, Doc brought the beer for their fishing trips, and they had been friends ever since. Drastically different professions, but then again, they were both into blood and guts a lot of the time. Each tried to outdo the other with "war stories."

"So what do you want from me?" Dodson said as he threw his empty Styrofoam cup into the wastebasket.

"Could you just, uh, casually check this guy out? He isn't doing anything wrong — that I know of — but none of this makes sense. I have all the information that he gave to billing. Maybe it will be enough for you," he finished as he handed Dodson a piece of paper.

Dodson glanced at the paper, then back up at the doctor. "If he's a retired cop, it should be easy. And yeah, I agree, it doesn't make sense for someone who's busted his ass for thirty years to suddenly decide to pay a stranger's hospital bills."

"That's another thing; the guy appears to be maybe thirty-five or forty. I can't see him being a retired cop, but, look ... Please be discreet. Okay? He hasn't done anything wrong here and he and those three women who are with him have been nice to all the nurses. I'm just curious."

"No problem, Doc. I'll get started on it first thing in the morning."

Doctor Harris sighed, "Harry, for the hundredth time, will you drop the 'Doc.'"

"Oh, now Doc, you know you love it," Dodson chuckled as he got up and walked out of the office.

-------

Dave and his three wives were on their bed. Kim adjusted the angle of Dave's dick slightly as their little Queen eased onto it. Evie held her breath as she wiggled downward, giving a sigh as Dave bottomed out in her.

"Like that, Baby?" Dave teased as Evie took her bottom lip in her teeth, a look of intense concentration on her face as she got used to the pressure of his cock pushing against her womb, then began moving her hips.

"You know I do, and you don't have to have that look ... on ... your ... face," she gasped out as her first orgasm hit. After a moment, she started again, building almost immediately. Shortly she went rigid for a time, then sighed and collapsed onto his chest.

"Well, I can gloat a little, can't I?" Dave answered as he kissed her ear. "After all, I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

"You keep on with that, and I'm going to believe you one of these days," Evie sighed as she got her breath back. Pushing back into a sitting position, his hard cock still inside her, she cupped her breasts and squeezed. "Look," she said as she stripped her nipples, causing fine streams of milk to squirt out.

"That is sooo neat," Linda said

"Yeah," From Kim.

Dave rose up a little and locked his lips around Evie's nipple and part of her breast. Licking the nipple and tasting the sweet milk, after a moment, he then changed to sucking. Evie sighed and shivered. "Oh, Dave, you have no idea how good that feels."

"I kinda like it from here, too," he agreed.

Dave switched to the other breast when the first one stopped giving him milk. "I don't have much, yet, do I?"

"No, just a couple of mouthfuls, but a lot more than you had a day or two ago. But it's sexy as hell."

"I'm jealous," Linda and Kim said at almost the same time.

Dave chuckled at his younger wives, then, "Are you glad it started?" he asked as he finished with Evie's second breast.

"Right now I am, but if I start leaking like Di and Arlene sometimes do, I might not be as pleased. Then again, it surely feels good to have you nurse my milk," Evie replied as she worked the muscles of her pussy on his cock.

"Hmmm, you might be right about your nipples leaking. With the way your milk is increasing, it probably won't be long before you start wetting your tops like Diana and Arlene," Dave teased as he licked one last drop that Evie squeezed from her left breast, but before she could make a further comment, he stroked her hard. Holding her hips, he pounded his cock upward into her as fast as he could, her breasts bouncing with his rhythm. Within seconds, she was coming again.

Shortly, Linda eased Evie onto the bed and Kim took Evie's place astraddle their husband. As Dave and Kim continued their lovemaking, Linda noticed a drop of milk form on Evie's left nipple. Grinning, Linda licked it off, then nursed the breast for a moment, getting another little taste of milk. Feeling an intense rush of love for Evie, Linda stretched out beside the little Queen and took her in her arms, content to hold Evie as she slept.

-------

Long after everyone was asleep in the retreat, Susan sat near the big window in the living room staring into the night. It had begun to snow heavily and the widely disbursed security lights seemed to be pools of swirling white as she sat nursing a small glass of Wainwright's expensive wine, and thought, Diana and Arlene are insistent that I stay and make this my home, but I can't get over Jeff fucking my granddaughter. Oh, I know they've had a ceremony and everyone here claims she's his wife, but damnit, she's his daughter. I just can't get past that. But ... to be honest, Arlene is happier than I've ever seen her.

Susan had turned out most of the lights in the room, but even so, she looked around to again see the elegance of the living room. Yet, with the elegance was also comfort and ... family. Even though I've been a bitch to Jeff — well when he's not kissing me — all his wives have treated me like I'm one of them. Oh, crap, what should I do? If it were not for Jeff claiming Arlene as his wife, I would take them up on their offer in a heartbeat. I don't want to go back to that apartment, wondering if I'm going to have enough to pay my bills and eat until my next payday. I couldn't save enough for the airfare to come up here and had to use part of my bill money. When I go back, the next month is going to be rough — really, really rough. But if I stay here, I'll be subject to Jeff's rules. This is his home. Then there's my new adopted granddaughters. I said I would be their Meemi. I can't be much of a grandmother while so far away. And I'll miss Arlene, and Ann, and Jennie, and Melissa. And I'll miss my daughter, too. Family shouldn't be this far apart. What am I going to do?

After taking the last sip out of her small glass, Susan saw Arlene's pack of cigarettes lying on the table. Taking one out of the pack, she lit it, then glanced in the mirror formed by the wall of glass and the near darkness beyond. I look younger — much younger. Arlene says that cigarettes will never bother her — us. I've always liked to smoke, and it was hard giving them up. I can't afford them now, though. She sat back in the chair near the window and slowly drew on the cigarette again, then blew the smoke toward her image in the glass. I suppose that if I decide to stay, I'll have to ask Jeff. Diana and the others have asked me to stay, but Jeff has not asked me directly. I can't blame him. I've treated him badly — and that's an understatement. There's just something that happens when I'm near him. Somehow, I just lash out at him. He used to take it back in Georgia; that's not necessarily true up here, though. Like in Georgia, he seems to let Diana lead around the house, but damnit, when he kisses me, I want to spread my legs for him. I'm his mother-in-law for crying out loud. There's part of me that wants to see what that lump in his pants looks like, though.

Frustrated, she turned and put the cigarette out in the ashtray. I haven't smoked in so long, it's making me dizzy,  she thought. Now what do I do? Face it, girl, you know what to do. If you want to stay, you have to suck it up and ask Jeff. I'll essentially be begging, for I won't have an income when I quit my job — such as it is. Hmmm, maybe I can get a job in Winter Park. If they'll loan me a car until I can get on my feet ... I need to talk to Jeff. I'll do that first thing in the morning. If he says it's okay to stay, I'll call work and turn in my resignation. Now I've got to kowtow to the master,  she sarcastically thought. With the good comes the bad.

She took her glass to the kitchen, rinsed and put the glass on the counter. It's time to stuff my pride. I don't want to go back to that ratty little apartment. Tomorrow. Yeah, I'll suck it up, sit in the bastard's lap like his wives do, and ask him sweetly if I can live here. I'll ask sweetly, but he'll know I'm fucking with him. Yeah, that'll work.

Smiling, she headed for her suite as the storm intensified outside.



-------

Chapter 57

FLORIDA, 6:00 A.M. WEDNESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 9

Carla walked into the room and gently rubbed the shoulder of her dozing mate as he sat in the bedside chair. When Fred opened his eyes, she smiled and kissed him on his beard-rough cheek. Quietly, she asked, knowing the answer, "Any change?"

Fred sighed as he looked back at the still form on the bed. "She just lies there with the machine breathing for her."

"And Brenda?"

"I think she's as amazed about this as we are. I know it was her idea, but she..." Fred wound down. "She has hardly anything to say."

Carla stood looking for a moment at the girl on the bed, then, to Fred, "Why don't you go to the restroom and freshen up. I'll stay with her while you're gone. After that, there is a large table set up by the nurse's desk that has about everything on it you could ever think of for breakfast. The deputy's sister-in-law is in the right profession; she has a talent for it. Not only is the food good, but the presentation is even better than it was last night. When that tummy of yours is full, I think you should go to the RV, shave, take a shower and get some decent sleep."

Fred was shaking his head as she finished. "I slept some sitting here in the chair. I'll just shave and clean up. I'll be fine."

"Baby, I've spent many nights sitting with Sam before he died. Dozing while sitting up doesn't do anything for you, except maybe put a crick in your neck and make you feel worse. Now get some breakfast and sack out for a while in the RV. I'll be right here and call you if there's any change."

Instead of answering, Fred said, "She's pretty, isn't she? How can someone so young just throw her life away? Why did she ever take that first hit?"

"Go, Baby."

"I will, but I'm going to wait until the doctor makes his rounds. The nurse said he would be here about 6:30."

"Well, go get some of that fabulous food the caterer brought. You'll see the doctor when he comes into the unit. I promise you I'll sit right here and hold her hand just like you're doing."

Fred stood and kissed Carla on the cheek, turning his face away as she tried to kiss him on the mouth. "My breath is terrible," he apologized.

Carla opened her purse. "I brought you a toothbrush and toothpaste. Go use it, then go eat — please."

-------

THE RETREAT:

Shortly after breakfast, with Alesha and Caitlin on the way to work, Jeff walked into the kitchen where his wives were just finishing cleanup. The phone rang as Jeff passed, and he stopped to pick it up. "Matthews' residence. Jeff speaking."

"Good morning, Colonel," General Whitworth said.

Jeff, wondering why the General would call on a non-secure line, almost stumbled with his speech. "Uh, Sir. I think you misspoke there. I'm only a lowly major," he laughed.

"So, Colonel, are you in the habit of correcting your general?"

"Uh, no Sir," Jeff got out, wondering what was going on.

"Colonel, I'm about to..."

UNIDENTIFIED HELICOPTER APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH,  the computer announced as the big monitor came on at the end of the kitchen.

The General, having heard the computer, asked, "Who was that?"

"My security system noticed you. That was my computer you heard."

"Not bad," Whitworth said, "Not bad at all. We just topped the mountain, and your system detected us immediately ... Permission to land, Colonel?"

"Uh, certainly, Sir. The helipad lights ... are on," he finished as the computer beat him to the switch. "Looks like we had some snow last night, but as you get closer you can probably see the pad lights through the snow. The pad is on the north side of the building."

"Colonel, I have someone with me who is unable to walk, and I also have my wife with me. I brought several pieces of luggage and some ... equipment. I have personnel with me to move everything, though."

"One vehicle enough?" Jeff asked.

"One of those big SUVs you mentioned to me should do it."

"I'll be there shortly," Jeff said.

Jeff's wives, Kayla and the girls stood at the other end of the kitchen staring, having heard parts of Jeff's end of the conversation. Jeff turned to them.

"We have company. The General has brought his wife and someone who can't walk," Jeff said as he put the phone back in it's charger. Looking at Arlene then, "We need a wheelchair at the top of the steps in the inside garage."

Arlene smiled and ran out the door with Kayla right on her heels.

"Di?"

"I'll take care of the welcoming committee," Diana said. Then under her breath, "Might have been nice to know they were coming."

Jeff went out the kitchen door and jogged hurriedly down the hall. Grabbing a coat, he donned it as he ran down the steps to an Escalade to find Kayla already waiting behind the wheel. Vehicle started, Kayla hit the remote. As soon as the door was clear, she backed out into the snow and headed for the helipad just as the big copter began to slowly descend. As it neared the ground, its rate of descent slowed even more as the pilot blew the fresh snow away with the rotor blast.

When the craft was down, Kayla waited until the rotors had stilled, then moved the Escalade so its right side was close to the copter's stairs that were coming down even as she stopped. Kayla popped the hatch release as Jeff jumped out and opened the right rear door when a sergeant, a corporal and a medic exited the copter, the sergeant carrying a collapsible wheel chair, the corporal with luggage in each hand, and the medic with two small cases.

Whitworth, dressed in civvies, walked carefully down the steps with a woman in his arms, another woman following him. Jeff could barely see the face of the woman Whitworth was carrying, since she was wearing a long coat and had a blanket wrapped around her as well. The other woman, presumably the General's wife, appeared to be around fifty years old and had short, dark brown hair with sprinkles of gray. The heavy coat she was wearing prevented his telling much about her physical build, other than he would guess her height around five feet two inches.

The General's wife nodded to Jeff, but didn't say anything as she hurried around the Escalade and got in the back seat to help situate the woman that Whitworth was carrying. Whitworth carefully sat the woman in the seat and slid in beside her, quickly closing his door. His wife fussed over the woman, rearranging her blanket as the men made another trip to the copter. When they loaded the last item into the back of the Escalade, Jeff sat in the front passenger seat as Kayla pressed the button for the hatch to close. Whitworth slid his window down for a moment. "Sergeant, I'll call when I need you."

"Yes, Sir, General," the sergeant said as all three men saluted. Whitworth gave a typical general's salute, and closed the window.

Kayla had set the heater on high immediately after starting the Escalade in the garage, but the engine was only beginning to warm up a little, and the door had been open. "Let's get..." the General started to say as Kayla dropped the SUV into gear and headed for the back, hurrying to get the obviously sick woman out of the cold.

"That's my wife Ellen sitting behind Lieutenant Fisher. The lady I'm holding is my sister-in-law and my second wife, Barbara," Whitworth said.

"Glad to meet you, Colonel," Ellen said. Barbara didn't acknowledge at all.

"Nice to meet the both of you," Jeff returned, his mind locked on what the General had just said. No wonder he didn't make such a big deal out of my multiple wives. And Kayla knew the General had more than one wife, too, I'll bet. That explains a lot.

"I'll talk to you about things later," the General said gruffly, "but right now we need to get Barbara inside and out of this cold."

"Yes, Sir," Jeff answered, and a moment later as they approached the inside garage, Kayla keyed the remote and the garage door slid back up. All of Jeff's wives, and the new girls were waiting at the top of the stairs, Arlene standing behind a wheelchair.

Whitworth looked at the women. "That's a lot of women, Son."

"Uh, yes Sir, it is," Jeff said, wondering about the "Son," but he had already figured out why the General was here.

The women descended the stairs en masse when Kayla stopped the Escalade and the garage door closed. Kayla popped the hatch of the SUV as some of the women headed for the back of the vehicle to get the luggage and equipment the General had brought. Whitworth started to open his door, but stopped and looked over at Jeff, then quietly said, "I need to get Barbara in bed ASAP. She's in a bad way."

Jeff stepped out of the vehicle and caught Diana's eye. "The lady needs to be in bed just as fast as we can get her there."

"First suite on the left will do for now," Diana quickly responded. "Jennie, you and Melissa hold the doors open for us." Kayla had hurried around the vehicle and opened Whitworth's door. As he carefully stood with the woman in his arms, "This way, General," Diana continued.

At the top of the stairs, Diana asked, "The suite is about a hundred feet down the hall. Do you want to put her in the wheelchair, or continue to carry her?"

"I'm fine. I'll just carry her," Whitworth said as Barbara snuggled her head against his shoulder.

Arlene dashed on ahead to turn down the bed.

A few moments later, Jeff waited in the sitting room of the suite until General Whitworth walked back out of the bedroom. "Ellen, Lieutenant Fisher and your wives are getting Barbara into bed," Whitworth said.

Helen came out of the bedroom. "Jeff, the girls and I are going on to class. No use all of us being in there and maybe disturbing the sick lady."

"Thanks, Baby."

Jeff stood and said to the General. "I imagine you and I need to talk. We can get a cup of coffee and sit in the kitchen, or the living room, or we can use one of the conference rooms, if you want to be a little more formal."

Whitworth glanced toward the door to the bedroom he had just left. Jeff cleared his throat. "Sir, my wives will take care of her. Let's just go have a cup of coffee. Respectfully, Sir, you look like shit."

The General gave a morbid-sounding chuckle. "Thanks, Colonel. That's exactly what I needed to hear."

Jeff fought back a grin and escorted Whitworth out the door. Shortly, they were sitting in the kitchen with coffee in front of them. "Now what brought on the impromptu visit? Is it the sick lady? If so, why didn't you put her in the healing chamber on the ship?"

Jeff noted that there was a slight tremble to the General's hand as he took his first sip of coffee. I'll bet he hasn't had much sleep in the last couple of days. I've never seen him the least bit rattled before. What's going on?

The General looked Jeff in the eye. "Didn't take you long to nail it down, Colonel."

Jeff hesitated with his cup almost to his lips. "And what's with this 'colonel' thing? We both know I'm damned sure not a colonel."

Whitworth grinned at Jeff. "I brought you a set of uniforms with your new insignia on them. The rest are at the base. You were promoted the day you left the base."

"Sir, I..."

"As you are well aware, we're far removed from any regular military outfit. I can do as I fucking well please. When someone else brings me a few million dollars like you did from the Ingles' mission, not to mention a spacecraft, I'll probably promote them, too. Now, that aside, I've come with my hat in hand..."

"The lady?"

"Yeah," Whitworth said, his voice gruff. "As I said, she's my sister-in-law, and ... my second wife. No one knows that she's my wife, though. Everybody at the base thinks she is just my sister-in-law who has been living with us after her husband died ten years ago." The General hesitated, then continued, "I think Fisher suspected; well, I guess she probably figured it out, but I need to keep it that way for everyone else."

Jeff stared at his general. "Again, why not the healing chamber on the ship?"

Whitworth set his cup down with a thump. "The fucking thing won't work. I put her in it myself. The top didn't close; the mist didn't come on. I tried every fucking one of the healers — nothing. My only hope is your healer. Barbara is dying. Leukemia. Fucking Leukemia! She's been in remission for about three years, and we thought we had it licked. Last month it came back — with a vengeance. Nothing the doctors have done appears to even slow it down this time. The doctor told me last night that she might have a week, but could go at any time."

Jeff slid his chair back and stood. "We need to get moving then." Jeff inwardly cringed as Whitworth downed his cup of hot coffee in three gulps, then stood.

The men left the kitchen and walked with powerful strides, side-by-side, down the hallway. Shortly, they entered the bedroom as Diana turned from the bed, "Jeff, she's..."

"I know," he responded as he pulled his collar open and Little One, already alerted by her Prime, flowed out into his hand. The General's jaw muscles twitched and Ellen gasped, putting the back of her hand against her mouth.

"I didn't know they could do that," Whitworth said as he stared at the Healer.

"They can't; she can," Jeff replied as he turned toward the bed.

Sitting on the side of the bed, he smiled as Whitworth's sister-in-law opened her eyes.

"I guess we haven't been properly introduced," Jeff tried to say tactfully while he wondered if the woman even heard the introduction in the SUV. "I'm Jeff Matthews and I sometimes work for your husband. Since you obviously know about the healers and the ship," (Whitworth heard the breath intakes of Jeff's wives and saw Diana's eyes widen at the word "ship," then saw Diana lock her eyes on her husband), "I'm sure you recognize what I have in my hand. Only thing is, she isn't an it. She is far more than just another of the healers." Jeff smiled at the woman, "And today she will heal you from that awful condition you have. She has just told me she recognizes what is wrong with you and is anxious to take care of you. Are you okay with this?"

Barbara reached over and put a shaking hand on Jeff's, her grip so light he barely felt it. "I'm dying anyway; can't hurt," she tried to tease as she struggled to put a smile on her face, her voice barely more than a dry rustling.

Jeff felt a lump form in his throat. His voice suddenly hoarse, he said, "Sleep now. When you wake, you will be fully recovered. I promise." Ellen shivered when the blue beams came on and Barbara closed her eyes.

"I need to put Little One directly on her body..." Jeff started.

"I've prepared her," Diana said. "Her pajama top is open."

Jeff looked at the General for permission, and he impatiently waved his hand to give it. Jeff lifted the sheet and put Little One between Barbara's breasts, then dropped the sheet back in place.

"That's it?" the General asked, looking down at his second wife. "That thing..."

" ... isn't a thing," Jeff finished for Whitworth, forcing himself to not snap at the General. "She is, indeed, a created being, but she is far from a 'thing.' Little One is a self-aware, self-programming alien AI with female emotions." Kayla smiled at that. "Plus, she has a superb mind," Jeff continued, "and she has spent a lot of time and effort in expanding her capabilities. She is part of our family — a full member, not just a pet or anything like that."

"And the other healers..." the General asked.

"Are like her only peripherally, especially after Little One's expansion of her capabilities," Jeff answered.

Glancing over at the woman on the bed, Jeff then turned to the others, but before he could speak or any of the fully expectant wives could ask questions, Diana saved the day with, "Have you people eaten?"

"We're fine..." Whitworth started.

"No," his wife broke in. "We ate a TV dinner sometime early this morning on the plane."

Diana grabbed Ellen's hand. "Then we need to fix that. Come on with me."

"We came barging in..." Ellen got out.

"As you should have," Diana said. "Barbara was dying, as you said. We'll have time for the amenities now. We'll get to know each other while Little One is healing your sister."

Ellen looked back at her sister-wife on the bed. "But I feel bad about leaving her."

"She will be fine," Jeff said, entering the conversation again, "and Little One prefers it to be quiet when she's working. Let's go get you people something to eat."

"Are you sure, Colonel?" the General said, a frown creasing his forehead. "I hate to just leave her lying there in that bed, alone. I..."

"She isn't alone, Sir. Little One is with her. I give you my word, General. In a few hours, she'll feel better than she has in a long time — maybe ever. Besides, if Little One needs me, I'll know."

As the General reluctantly allowed himself and his first wife to be ushered out of the suite and down the hall, Jeff realized just how much Whitworth loved the woman on the bed. Although he was covering it well, the General had shown indecision and unease that he had never displayed in Jeff's presence.

Diana reached over, squeezed the General's arm, and as if reading his mind, said, "Like Jeff said, she isn't alone and could not be in better hands. Little One will take care of her. We'll check on your wife in a little while. Now let's go get the two of you a good breakfast."

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA. SHORTLY AFTER 2:00 P.M.

The charge nurse walked into the room and put a hand lightly on Fred's shoulder to attract his attention. But the touch of the hand was more than that, for there was compassion there, too. "At your convenience, Mr. Wilson, Doctor Harris would like to meet with you in his office."

"Fred, I don't want to leave her. Tell the damned doctor to come here if he wants to talk."

"Okay," Fred said to the nurse. "Please tell him I want my family with me, though. We'll be there shortly."

Fred got up and left the unit so he could use his cell phone. Shortly, his women were on the way to meet him, Brenda becoming more agitated in his mind by the minute.

-------

Later, Fred and his women sat in the hospital cafeteria, their barely-touched meals in front of them. "But I thought she would get better," Jessica said, tears in her eyes.

"Remember, the doctor said he would run the tests again in the morning, just to be absolutely sure," Carla said.

"But we don't need to get our hopes up. Both doctors have already agreed that she's brain dead," Audrey commented, rehashing something the group had already discussed in detail.

"I think he's running the test again just for us," Fred said, "but I want him to do it again, just in case."

"Brenda, we're sorry," Carla said as she took Fred's hand to hear Brenda's response.

"Me, too," Brenda sniffed in Fred's mind. "I ... have no idea why I wanted... want so desperately to be here — to be near her. Now I've cost my husband thousands of dollars for nothing. I just don't know. It just felt ... feels right. I still want Fred to hold her hand. Ah, shit. I can't even believe I'm dead. I surely don't understand any of this," she finished, her mind in turmoil.

Carla sighed, "So we have the rest of the day and tonight. They run the second EEG at eight in the morning, right?"

"Yeah, that's what he said."

Carla put her hand on Fred's. "I know you're going to stay with her tonight..." Carla choked up for a moment, "so you need to go back to the RV and get a good nap first."

"Go back with him, Mom, both of you," Jessica said, indicating Audrey as well. "I promise I'll call if there's any change at all."

"Hold her hand," Fred said, his voice husky.

"I will."

-------

THE RETREAT:

"It's been six hours," Whitworth said as they stood near the bed looking down at his sister-in-law. "Shouldn't your Healer be done with her?"

Jeff refrained from sighing after yet another variation of the same basic question the General had asked. "With all three of the girls' healing combined, Little one only took a couple of hours since there wasn't much wrong with them and she just enhanced their bodies, but with me when the bear tore off part of my shoulder, the treatment was spread out over several days. She just didn't have the energy to replace all that lost tissue quickly. With Helen, the healing was spread out as well. Since then, Little One has tapped another power source and can do things much more quickly, but still ... your wife's body was..."

"Oh, hell, I know," Whitworth said. "We've watched her go down. For the last few days I've expected to find her..." He stopped before his voice faltered, unable to say the word.

Jeff put his hand under the sheet and onto Little One. After a moment, he stood back up. "Little One asked if we would leave. Our emotions are distracting her. She still has a way to go. But she assures me that Barbara has been safe since she started, and will be fully healed in not too much longer."

-------

Later as the General, Ellen, Diana and Jeff sat in the sitting room of the suite, Jeff's expression became vague for an instant. "Little One is calling."

Whitworth was up and through the door almost before Jeff could finish his sentence. Ellen wasn't far behind him.

Barbara was lying in bed, still, but now her pajama top was buttoned and the sheet was pushed down to her waist. She had Little One lying on her shoulder, snuggled against her neck, her hand caressing the small alien. "I'm trying to tell her thank you, but she isn't doing anything," Barbara said, looking up at Jeff.

Jeff reached out and put his hand on Little One for a moment. "She couldn't understand your words, but she told me she understood the hug you gave her. She says that you're welcome."

Barbara looked at him with an odd expression, but didn't say anything.

Jeff picked up the Healer and backed away to allow the impatient couple behind him room to hug Barbara some more. Jeff took Diana's hand and they left to give the others privacy.

Arlene and Ann walked into the sitting room with a tray just before Ellen came back out of the bedroom. "She says she's ravenous," Ellen started to say just before she saw Ann standing there with the tray.

"Let's start her out with a light meal and see how that sits. I imagine it's been a while since she has eaten much," Diana said.

"They have been sustaining her with IVs for the last couple of days," Ellen said.

"If she couldn't eat, Little One would have told us," Jeff said.

"But, let's start her out with the soup," Diana insisted. "We're already preparing something a little heavier when she's ready for it."

Jeff well knew that Little One would not have stopped until the woman was healed, but he didn't argue with his Queen Bitch. Ellen told them thank you, took the tray, and with Arlene holding the door open, went back in the bedroom, but now there was a smile on Ellen's face instead of the deep concern from before.

-------

Barbara had showered, washed and dried her hair with Ellen fussing over her. Finally, in their bedroom, Barbara stood looking in the full-length mirror as the General and Ellen hovered nearby. "I'm practically skin and bones," Barbara complained.

"The weight will come back," Ellen tried to assure her. "The important thing is how you feel."

Barbara turned to face her sister-wife. "As I said, I feel wonderful..."

"Then that's all that matters. We'll put some weight on you. Mrs. Matthews said a more substantial meal is waiting for you as soon as you get dressed."

"Diana," the General broke in. "I tried to be formal with her, but she's insistent we call her Diana. That woman can be intense."

Ellen touched Barbara's arm. "I have your clothes laid out for you," Ellen said motioning to the bed.

Barbara suddenly grabbed the General and hugged him tight, plastering her nude body against him. "Thank you, Henry. I wasn't long for this world. Thank you my darling."

Whitworth locked his arms about her, his voice becoming broken. "Hell, I didn't do anything, it was Matthews and that ... alien."

"You thought of it and brought me here." Then turning to Ellen, Barbara hugged her yet again. "Thank you for nursing me through all this. I couldn't hope for a better sister," she finished as the tears finally began to pour. "I thought I was dead. I had given up," she sobbed.

After a time, Barbara managed to stop crying long enough to get her panties and bra on, but the panties would barely stay up and the bra was a size too big as well. The slacks Ellen brought for her sister stayed up only because they came with a belt. As Barbara stood by the bed buttoning her blouse, she looked over at her husband, "All right, I've kept my mouth shut when Major Matthews ... uh, I mean Colonel Matthews was in here, but I want to know about this ... Healer he has. Why does his work and the others didn't? He didn't say a thing to it, but told me what it supposedly said. I tried to talk to it, but it didn't say anything to me. Yet he seems to talk with it — her. My memory is vague about coming here, but I think I remember him putting that thing on my chest. When I woke up, I certainly recognized that it was one of the Healers sitting on me, and it didn't take long to figure out that it had healed me. Is Matthews telepathic or something? Is there something you haven't told me, Henry?"

Whitworth sat on the bed. "You know about as much about this as I do. I told you I gave Matthews a Healer in exchange for commanding a mission that we had already lost people on. You know how worried I was they wouldn't come back, but he did, and brought everyone back with him ... and a spaceship to boot. Some of the Healers were working then, at least to some extent.

"Matthews and I have talked about them from time to time, and it was obvious that he was being deliberately vague. I didn't push him, but from what he said, particularly about the bear attack, it was obvious that his Healer worked, perhaps better than any of the others ever would. I thought about ordering him to bring it back, but since both of you have been around the military a large portion of your lives, you know that it's foolish to give an order you know isn't going to be obeyed." The General paused a moment, then, "Matthews has never failed a mission. Hell, most of the time, he far exceeds the mission goals. But I know him. Besides, my word is my word. I assigned the Healer to him permanently in exchange for him commanding a mission that he probably wouldn't come back from. To take it from him after he had upheld his end of the deal — hell, saying he exceeded the goals of the mission would be an understatement so gross as to be laughable. He brought back an inter-dimensional space vessel that represents a technology so far beyond ours as to make us look ... Oh, shit, you know all this."

"But does he read minds, or something?" Ellen broke in.

Whitworth sighed. "Like I said, you two know about as much about this as I do. Matthews put his hand on the Healer, then told us what it said, or she as he insists we refer to her. Apparently he commands her, or at least communicates with her that way, and maybe other ways as well. He suddenly said that she was calling, and when we got in here, you were awake and were holding the Healer on your shoulder."

Ellen shivered. "It about freaked me out when the Healer sort of flowed out of his collar. That was creepy. But then after that, it just looked like any of the other Healers. Do you suppose the others would do that for Colonel Matthews?"

The General sighed again. "Fuck if I know. No one has ever been able to surmount the mental blocks we put in, but I've been almost positive for months now that Matthews has done it somehow. Yet, from his wives' reaction when they heard him mention the ship, it's obvious they knew nothing about it. That is one deviously secretive son-of-a-bitch. I suppose I should be proud of him for both obeying orders about secrecy and with opening up when he thinks I have a need to know. Ingles' drugs could have been a security disaster, otherwise.

"But here I have a group of so-called scientists — supposedly the best in the business — running around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. I sometimes think that ship is fucking with us. Seems like Matthews accomplished more accidentally than the whole bunch of them have on purpose. The other Healers used to heal cuts and broken bones. Now they do fucking nothing. Just about what my fucking scientists are doing. Maybe the fucking batteries are dead on the Healers or something." Then under his breath, "Maybe my scientists need a recharge, too."

Standing, he took Barbara's hand. "Let's go get you something to eat. Should I get you the wheelchair?"

"You might need one in the morning if you can stand making love to this bag of bones tonight. Let's go see if I can eat them out of house and home. I think I'm hungrier than I've ever been in my life, despite that bowl of soup they brought me a little while ago."

Grinning from ear to ear, the General escorted his wives down the hall, each woman snuggled under an arm.



-------

Chapter 58


Fred sat outside the RV in the near darkness, the closest streetlight a block away. The folding chair creaked as he crossed his legs and swapped the cell phone to his other ear, holding the instrument in position with his shoulder as he retied a shoelace and talked to Jeff.

"Buddy," Jeff said from one of the small sitting rooms in his mountain home, "I can call Madison and he'll bust his ass to have that plane here as fast as he can. I'm not familiar with the airports in Florida where you are, but he will be..."

"Jeff, I know that, and I appreciate the thought," Fred interrupted. "But what good would it do? I know that whatever you have would heal her body, but she's brain dead according to the doctors. What good is a revitalized body with nobody home?"

Jeff sighed, having already fed the information to the Healer as best he could. She had told him much the same thing. Plus, he remembered from before when she said she could repair the brain, but would not attempt to do anything with a personality.

"They're rerunning the test in the morning?"

"Yeah. But I don't hold out much hope. I think Doc is just doing it for me. He said if the test still showed no brain activity, they would shut the ventilator off. Her body will die shortly after that." Fred said nothing for a moment, then, "I'm supposed to be taking a nap right now, but I can't sleep. Fuck, sometimes I wish I had taken another route when we started down this way..."

"Things will work out, Buddy. You'll know in the morning and then be on your way."

"We'll be on our way after we give her a funeral and bury her. I haven't gone this far just to leave her for the county to put in a pauper's grave. The sheriff's deputy says they can't find any next of kin."

"'Do what you think is right;' that's what you've always told me."

"Thanks, Jeff. I just needed to talk to someone."

"Keep me posted, Fred. If you want me there, I'll be there..."

"I know. No use in that. Hell, we don't even know this person. Now Brenda is feeling guilty for throwing my money away. I keep telling her it's her money, too. We made it together, and saved it together. At least we had it and did what we could."

"Get some rest. Hell, maybe it won't be bad news in the morning after all."

"Yeah, and if frogs could fly..." Fred let out a sick laugh. "Take care my friend."

"You too," Jeff said as he pushed the Off button on the handset, then returned the phone to its cradle.

A couple of minutes before Fred's call had come in, Jeff and Diana had gone into a small sitting room/alcove not far from Whitworth's suite, and had seized the opportunity to be alone for a few minutes. Now Jeff turned to Diana who was sitting nearby listening. "I feel useless," he sighed.

Diana got up and sat in his lap. "I think the General and his wives would argue that point with you," After a pause, "You didn't know he had more than one wife?"

"I think he has mentioned his wife a time or two, but he certainly never mentioned he had two. He kind of kidded me about all my wives, but never said anything derogatory. I guess we know why now."

Diana adjusted herself on his lap. "He didn't make any effort to hide it here. Of course he was obviously stressed, and well he should have been."

"I can't imagine one of you..."

Susan stepped into the sitting room, but stopped near the doorway. Hesitantly, "Can I talk with you a moment?"

Jeff glanced over at her. "Sure. Come on over and have a seat." Not wanting to continue the subject of multiple wives and give Susan an opening to trash him, "I was just talking with Fred a few minutes ago about the woman they rescued."

"Is she better?" Susan asked as she sat in the seat next to him.

"Her body is doing a little better according to Fred, but unfortunately, the doctors think she's brain dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping..." Susan wound down instead of saying the obvious. Then thought, Crap, Diana is sitting in his lap. I had planned to startle him by sitting there, then in the sweetest voice I could conjure up, ask him if I could live here. He would know I was fucking with him, but he wouldn't be able to acknowledge it aloud. But Di doesn't look like she's interested in going anywhere in the near future. Ah, heck, I'll just wing it.

Susan's seat was very close to Jeff's, so she reached over and took his hand. Squeezing it lightly, she smiled at him and said, "Jeff, I..."

"Certainly you can, Mom," he interrupted before she could even ask.

"I..."

"We would be tickled to have you. We'll send your keys to a moving company and have them pack up your things and ship them out here. Just give the keys to Dave with a list of the things you want. He'll take care of it. I've already told him about it."

Diana buried her face into Jeff's neck and giggled.

"I, uh," Susan said.

Diana got up, grabbed her mother's hand and dragged her out of the alcove. Down the hallway and out of earshot plus quite a bit more distance because of Jeff's keen hearing, Diana began laughing. "I told you when you started to fuck with him the other day that he would fuck back, remember? Remember also, he never would tell us what his IQ was from that test in high school, and even then, I suspect he held back and didn't do as well as he could have. Mom, despite what you think, he's the greatest guy in the world and I almost lost him because of my stupidity. I'll never let that happen again."

Both women had now stopped and stood facing each other. Susan smirked at her daughter, "Well, with the pussy brigade you've provided for him, I doubt if he's going anywhere." Susan pushed out an overly-dramatic sigh. "How can you stand watching him fuck another woman, let alone your daughter?"

Instead of Diana getting mad, becoming defensive, or arguing with her mother yet again, Diana just laughed at Susan. "We do, indeed, fuck like rabbits much of the time, as I've admitted before, but then again, Jeff can be the tenderest lover you could ever imagine. He seems to know what we want, or need, and do just that. If you keep messing with him, he'll, sooner or later, lay you down and lick you unconscious."

Susan made an almost-spitting sound. "No damned way. He's just a man, and no one has ever screwed me unconscious, let alone done it with his tongue."

"Uh huhhhh," her daughter responded, stretching out the sound. Then continued the sarcasm with, "And the reason you cream your jeans when he kisses you?"

Susan sputtered to a stop. "That was a fluke. I had been without a man so long."

"Sure, Mom. Sure. You just keep telling yourself that. I've already given him my permission — not that he needs it — to fuck your brains out anytime he decides to."

Susan glared incredulously at her daughter. "So, he can just break his marriage vows any time he pleases, huh? Now he can do it with your mother?"

"Mom, I broke our marriage vows — not Jeff. And he can't cheat if I've given him permission, now can he? Besides, I wrote new marriage vows and each of my sister-wives agreed to them before our wedding. We vowed to never have another man — he didn't vow to not have another woman — I made sure of that. He just wants to wait until the wedding night to fuck each new wife. It's his idea, not mine. I would just as soon he fuck your brains out right now. It would solve a lot of problems, and I guarantee you would have a hard time getting mad at him after that."

Susan stared at her daughter. "You're implying that I'm going to marry him. That's absolutely preposterous..."

"Implying, heck, Mom, it's practically set in stone."

"Di, you have lost your mind. He's an obnoxious, arrogant asshole. I'm certainly not going to become another harem ... uh..."

"Careful, Mom, before you say something you'll regret, and yeah, I know you just love him to death. But just restrain yourself, and he'll ask you in good time," Diana chuckled, then turned to walk away. After a couple of steps, she called over her shoulder. "Don't forget to make that list for Dave."

Susan just stood there and watched her daughter walk down the hall.

-------

"This place is enormous," Barbara said as they turned into the hallway. "This is a house?"

"No," Ellen replied as she glanced over at her husband. "Diana told us it was originally a retreat and conference center. Colonel Matthews got it as part of the deal when he sold his invention."

"It looks like..."

"Yeah, it is," General Whitworth finished for her.

"Yeah, our suite is beautiful and this hallway is even elegant." Barbara looked around her. "I can vaguely remember your carrying me into that room. I don't even remember this hallway, though," she said.

"We came from that way," her husband said, pointing. "The kitchen is down the other way, then turn right."

"And he has how many wives?" Barbara asked as they began walking in the direction the General indicated.

"Hell, I think it's nine, but from what I can see, there are others waiting in the wings."

"And they're the only people living in this enormous building?"

"Uh, no, there are more, and some of them don't live here all the time. Look, you need to ask Diana, she'll tell you. I was so worried about you that I'm not even sure what Matthews told me."

"I can't believe we ate all that food they left in the suite for us. I'm still so hungry, though. But I don't want to make them mad at us by sneaking into their kitchen this late in the evening."

"They won't care."

A few moments later, Whitworth pushed the kitchen door open for his women — and stopped.

"Come on in," Helen said brightly, "Ann just put your steak on, Barbara. How do you like it?"

"Uh, medium well," Barbara stumbled out. "How did you know..."

Diana hurried over. "Oh, we just thought you would be getting hungry again and we saw you coming down the hall," she said, motioning toward the monitor. Then pulling chairs out for them, "Well, come on in and have a seat."

"We have three different types of pie for you to snack on while Barbara is eating her steak," Melissa said, as she pointed.

"But how did you know..." Barbara managed as the General seated first her, then Ellen.

"Someone told us you would be ravenous," Jeff said, meaning Little One.

The girls looked at each other, but didn't say anything. Nicki got up and plopped down in Jeff's lap, then looked over at the General, her expression unreadable.

"I see that the young ladies have settled in well," Whitworth joked as he recognized the far-from-subtle attempt by Nicki to show him that they belonged to Jeff.

HELICOPTER APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH — IDENTIFIED AS CAPTAIN REED'S AIRCRAFT,  the computer said as the monitor came on above the counters.

"Who is this 'Captain Reed?'" the General asked as the monitor showed the navigation lights of the copter and it's big downward-pointing white light, the copter itself only now becoming visible in the darkness as it neared.

"It's Frank Wainwright, Margaret, Captain Madison and his wives," Jeff said. "Frank called when they left the airport. Margaret has been giving him hell about working too much, so I guess they decided to make it a three-day week this time."

"Wainwright? His company has done some good work for me," Whitworth said as Laura offered him a glass of iced tea.

"One of his companies," Jeff laughed.

"Okay, one of his companies has done some work for me," the General chuckled.

Arlene and Ann ran out the door to get a couple of Escalades to meet the copter.

"A three-day workweek, huh?" Whitworth said. "Boy, does that sound good."

Jeff put his own tea glass down. "Yeah. Margaret is bitching at him to cut back. His usual workday is twelve hours — plus. Of course, she works just as much as he does. All the money in the world, and they still get up before dawn and are at the office and labs before most anyone else."

Whitworth glanced back at the monitor before saying, "I managed to get one of those test radars Wainwright sold to the military. I want everything I have equipped with them."

Jeff chuckled. "Buy a bunch of them, General. I make money on every one Wainwright sells."

"So he rides out in a helicopter? I can relate to that," the General kidded.

"Actually, the pilot was fired from the hospital when he made a landing the administrator didn't like. Frank hired him, but since Frank didn't have a helicopter for Reed to fly, Frank bought a couple. Now Reed and his wife have a flying service — and Frank doesn't have to drive up here any longer — at least when the weather cooperates."

"I feel like we're intruding," Ellen said, looking concerned.

Diana leaned between the two women to put Barbara's steak in front of her. Putting an arm around each woman, Diana said, "Nonsense. Don't any of you dare think that. We love having company, and we surely don't have enough of it. Those people on the 'copter aren't company; they're family. Occasionally we can get the sheriff and his family to come for supper, but they're family, too, and don't really count as visitors. And Jesse eats with us fairly regularly, but that's about all. So don't you worry, we'll all have fun."

"Well, I will," Barbara said. "I'm going to live, and more than that; I feel wonderful — and hungry," she said, almost giggling.

"And ... Frank and Margaret really aren't working a three-day week," Diana said. "Well, not exactly. Margaret is coming in early so we can work on the wedding plans and get everything set up. We have a lot of things to order, and a lot of shopping to do."

Jeff groaned as the General laughed.

"When's the wedding?" Ellen asked.

"Friday week."

"How many people are invited?" Barbara asked.

"They could literally invite hundreds, but they've managed to hold the list down to about sixty so far." Diana looked at her husband as she added, "Most will want to be here at least a day before the wedding. Frank wants to bring in a crew to service the guest's rooms and feed everyone, but we have decided to do it ourselves — with my husband's permission, of course."

Everyone turned to Jeff. (Can you say, deer in the headlights?)

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA:

The second test had shown the same results as the first: No brain activity. After a second consultation with the doctor, Fred left the room while the IV pumps and ventilator were turned off and the endotracheal tube and IVs were removed, a sobbing Brenda in his mind.

When Fred, Carla, Jessica and Audrey were ushered back into the room, Fred reached down to once again hold the young woman's hand. Pamela Gordon's body lay breathing, but very shallowly. Doctor Harris had said she might not breathe at all when the ventilator was removed, but if she did, he expected that her breathing would slowly stop and the body would die within thirty minutes — most probably within the first ten minutes.

Although Fred had not seen her body nude, he had seen enough of it as the nurse worked with Pamela to know that a lot of bruising was beginning to show from the wreck. Her face, other than a few small cuts, showed little damage, however.

"She's seems peaceful," Carla said. "I mean..."

"Damnit, I expected her to live," Fred said as he fought back sudden intense anger.

"I'm sorry, Baby," Brenda said in his mind. "I have no idea how much all this cost, and it's coming straight out of your savings account," she fretted.

Stop that,  Fred thought back to her. I told you that didn't matter. We did what we could. It didn't work, but, damnit, we tried.

Carla, noticing the expression that Fred frequently assumed when he and Brenda were talking, reached over and touched Fred so she could hear Brenda. "What's going on?"

Fred glanced at her. "Oh, Brenda's just worrying about the money again. No big deal. We made it together; we spend it together. Besides, I should still have a good bit left, unless this outfit really rips me off."

Carla almost told them that she had used Jeff's money to pay the bill so far, but she bit her tongue and waited. (The hospital insisted the bill be paid daily, since there was no insurance, but had reluctantly agreed to give Fred insurance rates as long as the bill was kept up.) I'll wait and tell him later,  Carla thought as she sat in one of the chairs the nurse had provided while they waited for the body on the bed to die. It is just a body now. Pamela Gordon's spirit left this body somewhere back there on the road. Fred said she was slumped over the wheel when she passed us, and the doctor says there is a good chance that she was brain dead before Fred even got to her. The drugs killed her; the wreck didn't, but it's so sad looking at that pretty face lying there.

Fred's three women held hands with Carla's other hand touching Fred's shoulder as the body's breathing slowed until there were only four or five shallow breaths a minute. Then as they waited for the next breath, it did not come.

"Oh, shit," Fred quietly said.

Audrey, nearest on the other side of the bed, reached out and touched Pamela's face. "I'm sorry," she choked out.

Fred continued holding the young woman's hand, the room having become totally quiet. Then there was a cut-off scream in his mind; nothing more than a short, "Eeep."

Fred hissed in a breath.

"Didn't I hear Brenda make a sound?" Carla asked, her hand still on Fred's shoulder.

"She's not there," Fred snapped, even as he repeatedly called Brenda's name in his mind.

"What do you mean, 'she's not there?'" Carla got out. "Brenda?"

"She's fucking not there anymore."

Jessica and Audrey soon added their questions, but Fred talked over them. "Brenda's gone. She isn't in my mind anymore," his voice starting to show the deep sorrow that seemed to avalanche over him. He sat down hard in the chair that he had kept pushed against the bed since he had been allowed to stay in the ICU, but he continued to hold Pamela's hand.

All three women were trying to ask him questions, when Fred suddenly sat bolt upright.

"Stop! Wait; listen." He squeezed the hand he was holding while staring at Pamela's face. Suddenly the body on the bed arched its back upward in a seizure, the arch so strong that it seemed as if only its feet and head were touching the bed. Audrey and Jessica both screamed and jumped back a step — as much as was possible in the small room. Carla said something unladylike. Fred came back to his feet, staring at the young woman's face. "I heard her. At least I think I did. Brenda," he called. "Brenda,  is that you?"

Outside the room, the ICU nurses had heard the two women scream, but had not responded because they thought the body had just stopped breathing — which was certain to happen. Any other time, they would have been in the room in a flash, and any other time, there would have been monitors on to tell anyone at the desk what was happening with the patient. But all equipment, save the IV catheter, had been removed from the young woman's body as they waited for it to stop breathing and its heart to quit.

"I didn't expect them to make any noise," one nurse said. "They've been an exceptionally quiet family."

"Death comes hard," the charge nurse said. "At first, I was certain that Mr. Wilson really wasn't her brother, but after the way they've been here constantly, I just don't know. Heck, maybe he is her brother after all."

The curtain pulled back, the sliding glass door slid open and Carla stepped out. "Nurse, I think you better come take a look."

"I'll handle it," the charge nurse said. Then stepping over to Carla she started, "Ma'am, remember she's brain dead. We were expecting the body to stop breathing."

Carla glared at her. "Well she did that ... but that's not all of it."

"Ma'am, a body will sometimes..."

"I'm not stupid. She's not dead. She's breathing normally. Normally. And she's far from still. I think you need to get that doctor back in here, right now!"

The charge nurse stepped into the room, took one look at the patient, did an about face, came back out and grabbed the nurse, "Mindy, get Doctor Harris, STAT. And I do mean STAT! I don't care what he's doing; this is more important."

The nurse ran to the desk, grabbed the phone and started dialing.

The charge nurse did another about face and was back inside the room trying to get past Fred. "I need everyone to please step outside."

Fred's head snapped around, the big man towering over the nurse. "Right after Hell freezes over," he said, his face only inches from hers. She had never seen a look like that on anyone's face. It was all she could do to keep from wetting her pants.

But the nurse in her wouldn't back down, either. "At least, let me by," she squeaked as she ducked under Fred's arm.

By then, the commotion had attracted the other three ICU nurses and they ran up to try and get into the room to help.

"Brenda," Fred kept saying as the charge nurse tried to listen with her stethoscope, but the thrashing young woman on the bed wouldn't let her.

Irritated at the people crowding around and keeping her from taking care of her patient, she hissed out, "Her name is Pamela; not Brenda." The nurse didn't know why she said it. She was always nice to families, but in the stress of the moment, it just slipped out. These very nice people had suddenly become an extreme irritant. People always did what she wanted them to do when she told them in her "voice." Louder and more firmly she said, "Please, people. I can't help the patient with everyone in the way. I need you to step outside this room right now!"

Fred ignored her and put both hands on the young woman's shoulders, pushing down to stop some of her thrashing. "Brenda! Stop it! Relax. You're fine, Baby."

Fred could now clearly hear Brenda's screaming; at least he could as long as he was in physical contact with the body on the bed. The young woman was now making an audible chuffing sound in sync with Brenda's screams.

"Brenda! Be still!"



-------

Chapter 59

THURSDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 10, THE RETREAT

Breakfast on Matthews' Mountain was hectic, but fun. Last night, Diana had assumed that General Whitworth and his family would like to have time to themselves, so she and Jeff's younger wives had brought supper to the Whitworth's suite. Then Barbara's appetite later screamed for more food, and she, her sister and the General had found the Matthews waiting for them in the kitchen. With the return of the helicopter, and Dave returning from a night out with his wives, everyone had been introduced. This morning Whitworth and his wives walked into the kitchen to the laughter and efficiency of the clan women as they prepared the morning meal.

Shortly, all were loading their plates at the bar. Embarrassed at her appetite, Barbara put a moderate amount of food on her plate. When she, her husband and her sister-wife returned to the table from the breakfast bar, there was a steak waiting for her.

Diana smiled at Barbara. "Extra food until your weight comes back. Your appetite will moderate in time." Diana didn't tell her that the information had come from Little One, via Jeff.

Caitlin and Alesha Turcott were already eating when the General and his family came into the kitchen, and were finished almost by the time the others sat to eat. Dave saw Caitlin eyeing the drive on the monitor. "I just came back from plowing it out. You won't have any trouble."

"Thanks Dave," both women said, then after kisses, Alesha's on the cheek and Caitlin's hard on Jeff's mouth, they rushed off to work.

"Doggone it Dave," Jeff said, "I told you to have a talk with that snowplow company. I know they come up regularly with their plow, but they need to do it early enough so you don't have to get out before dawn to plow the road out. Or hire someone else to do it, if you want to. Maybe, Steve Sperman (their closest neighbor) would like to make a little extra money..."

"And take my fun away?" Dave laughed as he poured maple syrup on his pancakes. "You plan your day while you run — well, when weather permits — and I do the same as I plow out the driveway and road up here. Besides, I'm up by four every morning, anyway. I just can't sleep any longer than that." Realizing that Jeff was going to try and insist, Dave went quickly on, "If I get tired of it, I'll get someone set up to do it. You keep it plowed out the rest of the day; at least let me have my fun first thing in the mornings."

"I'm still feeling a little guilty..." Jeff began.

Diana looked up from the other end of the big table, "What my husband is verbally dancing around," she said, a smirk on her face, "is we have been keeping him ... busy in the early mornings. Caitlin has an early day, and her job is stressful right now, so she needs our husband for a while before she goes to work. Of course, you know what that leads to."

"All right. All right," Jeff laughed, "we're embarrassing the girls."

Nat, Nicki, and Whitney were blushing, but all ears just the same.

Barbara and Ellen were both giggling, then they suddenly hugged. "Oh, gosh, I feel wonderful," Barbara gushed as she turned to the others. "I thought I would be dead by now. I just ... I just ... It's so wonderful to be alive," she finished, fighting back tears of joy.

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA:

"Two milligrams of Ativan IV," the doctor snapped as soon as he forced his way into the room.

Of course, the charge nurse already had it in her hand awaiting his order.

"Aren't you glad you didn't pull the IV catheter?" Harris said as he gripped the woman's arm to steady it for the nurse as she hooked up the IV.

Soon the Ativan began to take effect and the thrashing and back-arching eventually stopped. Fred had continued his comments to Brenda trying to calm her, "Easy, Brenda. Easy, Baby. You're okay..." his voice soothing as he chanted it over and over.

"Why are you suddenly calling her, 'Brenda?'" Doctor Harris asked, his tone frustrated.

Fred was still holding his hands on the young woman's shoulders, albeit a lot more gently now that the drug was taking effect. He was standing on the opposite side of the bed from the doctor and looked up to catch the doctor's eye. "Doctor, if I told you, you would start thinking I'm nuts, and I don't need that right now. So, let me just put it this way. You need to run that EEG again. I think you're going to find a whole lot of brain activity this time."

"Mr. Wilson, we already ran the tests twice..."

"And does she look like someone who is brain dead?" Fred broke in. "Doctor, please, just run the tests again. Then you and I will have a sit-down and a little talk. Chances are you still won't believe me, because I suspect that what I tell you will pretty much fly in the face of all your training, but you will know the truth — at least as far as I understand it myself."

Doctor Harris started to object, but sighed instead. "Okay, it's a deal, if ... you and your family step out and let us do our job. She doesn't need to be restrained any longer..."

"My family will step out; I will stay," Fred said, his face only a few feet from the doctor's as they stared at each other across the narrow bed.

-------

A little later:

"Lieutenant Dodson is waiting in your office, Doctor Harris," his receptionist said. (Since Doctor Harris was a Hospitalist, he very seldom saw outpatients, so his receptionist doubled as his secretary.)

"Thanks, Julie."

When Harris walked into his office, Lieutenant Dodson was sitting in the doctor's chair with his legs across the corner of the desk, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Well, I see you have made yourself to home," Harris said, dryly.

Dodson didn't move, but just said, "Yeah, I've always wanted to know what it felt like to be a doctor."

"And how does it feel?" Harris said as he came around the side of his desk. "And get your feet off my desk."

"My feet aren't on your desk. My legs are. I made sure my shoes didn't touch your desk. And besides, you put your feet on your desk all the time."

"Well, the key word there is 'your, ' as in my desk. Now move your butt so I can sit down."

Dodson chuckled and got up to sit in a chair on the other side of the desk as Harris took back his seat, the joking conversation typical of the two. Doctor Harris looked over at his friend, "So, have you found out anything about our Mr. Wilson?"

Dodson hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Harris to notice and start to frown. "Yeah, you might say that." Dodson pulled his cell out of its carrier on his belt and held the instrument up. "See this? Look like a can opener to you? Well it is. It damn sure opened a can of worms."

Harris just stared at him as Dodson slipped the cell back into its home. "Look, Harry, I've had one hell of a morning. I don't need riddles right now..."

"I remembered going to a three-day school in Atlanta a couple years ago," Dodson broke in. "It was one of those where we listened to a lecture part of the day, then did a hands-on thing to test out what we had been taught. We were divided into groups of four with one of us appointed the lead investigator. The class was pretty well done. They had rooms and each depicted a crime scene. We were given the information from the real crime scene they were depicting..." It was obvious that Harris was losing patience, so Dodson changed direction with his little lecture.

"Anyway, I was partnered with a brand new sergeant from Atlanta, and we got along really well. We exchanged cards and said we would keep in touch, but we never did. I pulled out his card, and while driving home after leaving your office last night, I gave him a call. I told him about Wilson, and he said the name was familiar, but he couldn't place him at the time. He said, he would give the evening shift detective lieutenant a call and ask around for me.

"To make a long story short, I got two calls last night, and six this morning when I got to work — and four more after I left the Sheriff's office — minus the seat of my pants, incidentally. The Sheriff wasn't a bit pleased to have been trying to answer to two chiefs why one of his detectives was asking about a retired police detective who they seem to think hung the fucking moon. Then when I got back to my office, I got a call from some guy — Mark something or other — who was ready to get in his car and come down here, just in case Lieutenant Wilson might need some help.

"According to these people, Wilson is the greatest detective God ever made. Wilson did favors for a bunch of people, and continued to do so until a few months ago when his wife died with a massive heart attack. This Mark guy said she appeared to be in the absolute best of health before the attack. She exercised and was adamant about her diet. One day she and Wilson were eating lunch and she just keeled over."

Harris took a slow breath, then quietly said, "Do you have her name?"

"Uh, yeah," Dodson said as he pulled out his ever-present notebook and thumbed to the place. "Brenda. Brenda Wilson."

"Oh, shit," Harris said under his breath.

Dodson sat up straight. "What's the matter, Doc? You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Harris was quiet for so long that Dodson was beginning to get concerned, then, "Maybe I have," the doctor said, "Maybe I have."

-------

THE RETREAT:

Jeff and the General sat in Jeff's lab. Whitworth looked around him at all the equipment. "What is all this, anyway?"

Jeff chuckled and crossed his legs. "I guess you could sum it up by just saying, money — with a capital M. Even though I borrowed as much as I could, I still could afford little of the equipment I needed when I was struggling to put my radar together. I designed it in modular form and had each piece built by a different lab, hoping that no one would figure out what I was building until I firmed up my patent. Now that I can afford to have my own equipment, I'm gradually setting up a real lab. I might still have to have some of the work farmed out, but I hope I can get by without too much."

"And what are you working on now?"

Jeff just grinned at him.

"Oh, fuck, I know you're not going to tell me. I thought I would just give it a shot anyway, though," the General laughed.

"Actually, one day I just kinda had a brain storm about it..."

"Like you did the radar, I'll bet."

"Well, yeah. I'm a little amazed that someone hasn't thought of my next invention, yet. But then again, maybe they have and the patent has been bought up and buried by one of the big corporations. I've spent some time researching that, but I don't dare go into detail as I search for fear that I'll give my idea away in the process."

"So, do you think it will make the money the last one did?"

"If I'm right — and it works. And if no one has patented the idea yet, it should revolutionize a big industry, plus making a bunch of people happy, besides. Although, it's probably going to piss off several big corporations that have been gigging (Southern expression meaning to exploit — rip off) the public for years."

"In other words, Hell yes," Whitworth laughed. He brought out a small instrument and turned it on. "I need to talk to you about some sensitive information." After a moment, "This says we're secure, but I'm a little uneasy with those men working on the firing range over there."

"The lab is double-walled, and contains everything I could think up to detect and defeat spying, plus several anti-spying additions from Frank Wainwright. Yeah, there are construction workers in the basement, but they're a couple hundred feet away. If we were in my office, we would be almost above them, so they would actually be closer. The double walls here in the lab are, among other things, designed to keep anyone from listening with a laser, and it would be detected, anyway, as would anything else I can think of. Plus — and here's the biggie — Little One will tell me if anyone tries. Our technology is little more than a snigger factor to her. She will instantly jam any signal sent out of here, or the retreat. And any passive device is still easily detectible by her. We're secure."

The General was quiet for a moment, then, "I think you're keeping some things from me. And up to a point, that's fine, but there are things going on that I want to know about. Let's start with this Queen business. I've heard the comment a couple of times and they're referring to Diana, who by the way, is far too young to be the mother of your daughter. Want to start with that?"

Jeff glanced at the monitor, "Diana is coming," and he got up to open the door for her.

When the door closed behind her, Diana came into Jeff's arms, kissing him as though Whitworth weren't even there. As she pulled back from him, her hands still on his arms, Jeff glanced at the General. "General Whitworth wants to know about our Queen Bitch and why you look so young."

Diana smiled at her husband. "Then you need to go someplace for thirty minutes or so while I talk to the General. And while you're at it, I think Joyce is having a hard time getting to sleep, so why don't you go tuck her in?" Diana turned to look over at Whitworth; Jeff putting his arms around her as she unconsciously backed up against him. "My husband is very modest when the conversation turns to him. He and I had a discussion last night, and we have agreed that you need to know some of the things that Little One has told him about her society. I feel, since a lot of it is about my husband, that it's my ... duty to do the telling."

"Di, don't lay it on too thick. We ... uh, I might have misinterpreted some of this..."

Diana turned, grabbed Jeff's neck and pulled him down for a short, but hard kiss. "Now go make love to your wife. She's all keyed up from a hard night. The General and I will be just fine."

Jeff looked at the General, shrugged and went.

Diana walked over to the corner and opened a small refrigerator. "Want a coke?"

"Is it going to be that intense?" the General laughed.

Diana turned to look at him, a drink in each hand as she pushed the refrigerator door closed with her hip. "Yes. And before we start, I want you to know that I believe — sincerely believe — everything I'm going to explain to you."

-------

Over an hour later, Diana and the General walked back into the living room to find Laura sitting in Jeff's lap. Since they were on a couch, Diana slid in beside Jeff, taking his free arm and putting it around her. The two women briefly hugged. Shortly they kissed Jeff and walked out of the room.

Jeff watched as the General paced, then finally sat down. "Well, what do you think?"

Whitworth looked at Jeff, then shrugged. "Your wife paints a very convincing picture, and ... knowing the other things I know about where we got, uh, Little One, I'm beginning to believe her. The only problem..."

"Is that I'm a Prime and you're an Alpha," Jeff interjected.

Whitworth started a little in spite of himself, then a smile briefly touched his lips. "Not real good for the ego — at least a general's ego," he chuckled. Then pausing and becoming more serious, "I'm beginning to age some, but I can pick my replacement one of these days..." He looked hard at Jeff.

"Sorry, General. You can't get out of it that easily. You, Ellen, Little One and I have a date later today. By this evening, you and Ellen should feel just as good as Barbara does now. After that, you'll return to the age you want to be. I imagine you will still want to be mature because of your position. I don't want to look any younger than I do now. Ellen ... I have no idea. She might well fool you. But retirement won't have to happen until you want it to."

"That's what Mrs., uh, Diana just told me. Having that Healer heal Barbara is amazing enough; being told that my body will live a very long time is something almost as hard to realize." The General sat back in his seat, obviously deep in thought. "I wound up telling your wife — uh, your Queen — some things. Well, a lot of things." His voice hardened for a moment. "Matthews, I brought the equipment with me to put blocks in your family's minds if you and they will allow it. Uh, so they can't inadvertently tell some things that need desperately to be kept secret.

"I'm already very suspicious that I have a leak." When Jeff started to say something, Whitworth motioned for him to wait. "No implication meant toward you or your family. The leak, if there truly is one, came straight out of the base and I've narrowed it down to just a few possible individuals."

Jeff's first thought about the block for his family was not just no, but hell no, but after the initial reaction, he began to wonder. Little One, although she wouldn't touch a personality, said that the blocks were crude and easily removed. All base personnel were subjected to the blocks and there had never been any adverse reactions reported, unless you got a little too close to a restricted subject, as Jeff knew from personal experience. Worse comes to worse, I can have little one remove the blocks as soon as the General leaves. And there's a plus side: I can tell my family about the ship, and ... the gate we've created. Hmmm.

Aloud, Jeff said, "Let me think about this and discuss it with my family. Okay?"

Whitworth, expecting a flat no, responded, "Sure, Colonel. It would put my mind at ease, but they're civilians. I don't want to try and push you about it. I do think it's for the best, though."

The conversation stalled for a moment, then, "When do you want to do this thing with us and the Healer?"

"How about right now?" Jeff said, standing.

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA

The charge nurse came into the ICU room where Fred sat holding the hand of the young woman. "Sir, we're going to move your sister to a regular room. We're really not doing anything for her here that the floor nurses can't do. Plus we need this room for an accident victim. We've just used our last ICU room for one of them and ER is holding another victim until we can get this room ready for him."

Fred stood, still holding the young woman's hand. Turning to face her, he said aloud as well as trying to strongly say in his mind, "I'm going to step out for a minute and they're going to get you ready to move to a regular room. I'll be back in just a little while." Leaning down, he kissed her forehead, then quickly walked out. Fred didn't know if Brenda understood him or not, but he had tried.

Shortly, Fred, Carla, Jessica and Audrey were walking down the hallway following as two nurses pushed the bed with the young woman on it to the elevators. "You can meet us in room 331," the charge nurse said as they pushed the bed onto an elevator.

"Did Brenda say anything else?" Jessica asked as they got on the other elevator.

Fred glanced at the person who had just gotten on with them, "Let's wait until we get to the room."

-------

After the confusion of the room change and the introduction of a new nurse, Carla, Jessica and Audrey were seated in the new room with Carla holding the young woman's hand as they waited for Fred. Shortly, he entered the room and quickly walked over to the bed. He pulled a chair close and took her other hand.

Carla looked at her mate. "What took you so long? I thought you were just going to check with the nurse."

Fred chuckled. "Well, I did talk to her, but then I saw Doctor Harris and the neurologist talking, so I just stepped around the corner, leaned against the wall and listened. I didn't understand all the terms they used, but I could damn sure understand a, shall we say, heated conversation when I heard one. I think Harris is trying to save me some money. The neuro guy was adamant that she is brain dead and no amount of testing would ever show anything different. Harris said she wasn't. Anyway, they talked about my paying the bills and Harris wound up talking the guy into not charging for any of his services if the next test showed that she wasn't brain dead after all. Well, it seemed to me like Harris let the guy run his mouth until that mouth overloaded his ass. It didn't exactly wind up being a bet, but if the tests show she's not brain dead, ol' smart ass doesn't get to charge me."

The women giggled quietly. "I like Doctor Harris," Jessica said.

"Me, too," the other women agreed.

Then from Carla, "So, they're going to run the tests again? What's the matter with just looking at her? She's certainly not coherent, but she doesn't look like she did before Brenda left you."

Fred didn't answer, but instead concentrated, "Brenda, Baby, can you hear me?"

Jessica and Audrey quickly got up and also put their hands on the person on the bed.

They could all hear a quiet whimper, then, "Fred, Fred, where are you? I can't see; I'm lost."

"Easy, Baby. Can you hear me?"

There was a long hesitation. "Yes, but you sound so far away. Am I really hearing you?"

"Yeah, Baby. You're in Pamela's body — in her brain, I guess."

"I can't be in her brain. I can't see. There's nothing around me. It was so nice being with you. Now I'm lost. Is this what death is like? I'm scared. There is no sensation. I can't feel anything. When I was with you, I could feel everything you felt; could see everything you saw. I could dream with you, have orgasms with you, Carla, Jessica and Audrey. I'm lost now. I can't feel or see anything. You have no idea how bad it is. I'm scared."

"Baby, we're here with you. It's going to get better."

"No. I'm going to go crazy, Fred. I tell you I can't feel anything. I can't see anything. There is no sensation — none. I can't stand this."

"Baby, this had to happen for a reason — all of it. Just hang in there. We're all here with you."

"Where the fuck is here?" Brenda screamed.

"Like I said," Fred patiently repeated. "You're apparently in Pamela's brain."

"Then how come I can't see? How come I can't hear anything?"

Fred didn't have answers for her. He looked up at his women, his face drawn. "Brenda, I don't know. The others can hear you now, though. But you sound faint to all of us."

"I can hear you, Fred. But you sound a long way away. Why can't I hear the others? I don't like this, Baby. Help me."

"I'm trying to, Baby. I'm trying to."

-------

Fred sat in Doctor Harris's office. The doctor had been nice, as always, but Fred picked up on an underlying tenseness in the good doctor. "I had a phone call from a friend first thing this morning."

Harris tensed up. "I guess I need to apologize."

"Want to tell me why you decided to have me checked out? You could have just asked; I would have told you most anything you wanted to know."

Harris sighed, then looked Fred in the eye. "I have a friend who is a detective for the Sheriff's Office. I asked him to discreetly ask about you, and it got out of hand. Neither he nor I had any intent to delve into your personal life. I, uh, just had problems with believing that someone would finance a hospital bill for a person he didn't even know. I still don't understand that. That phone call my friend made to a school acquaintance suddenly spiraled out of control. And ... I still don't know why you did it."

"Doctor, there's a very logical reason, but if I told you, you would think I was even more nuts than you do now. Maybe we should just leave it where it is."

"So, let me speculate for a moment. I think you somehow believe that Ms. Pamela Gordon is your dead wife. Am I close?"

Fred crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair, trying to give himself time to think. He could feel that Harris was being honest with him and he couldn't detect an ulterior motive from the man. "I guess it was pretty easy with me yelling for Brenda to calm down when everyone knew that the person on the bed was named Pamela, huh?"

"... And one of your friends mentioned that your wife — Brenda — had died suddenly a short while ago." The doctor seemed to shift gears, "Mr. Wilson, there is brain activity now. Yesterday, there was none. People don't come back from brain death, nor does their body continue to live. The condition of a comatose individual in a vegetative state is quite different than that of an individual who is brain dead. A return to life just isn't possible, but today, confirmed by the tests, that has just happened. Unless ... there's another explanation ... After what I've seen today, I'm almost desperately willing to listen to anything you can tell me. Especially because of the way you and your family have acted throughout this, uh, incident."

"So what did the last series of test show, Doctor? You were gone with her a lot longer this time."

Harris sighed again. "We're a small hospital, and although we received a rather large endowment by an extremely rich individual upon her death, we still don't have the equipment of much larger hospitals, and certainly not research institutes..."

"No," Fred interrupted.

"I beg your pardon?"

"No, before you go there. No. You're not going to move her. She stays right here, or she goes with me. She isn't going to be transferred to another place for that asshole neurologist to experiment on her."

Harris cleared his throat, wondering how Wilson had picked up on things so quickly. "Mr. Wilson, this Ms. Gordon..."

"Brenda," Fred snapped. "By your own definition, Pamela Gordon is dead. You can't have it both ways."

"Uh, the young lady on the bed now has a large amount of brain activity, but as far as our tests can show, that activity is very localized..." The doctor hesitated when he realized that the man sitting in front of him was no longer listening.



-------

Chapter 60

THE RETREAT, LATE THURSDAY NIGHT:

The General walked into the living room; glanced around.

"Over here, General," Jeff called out as he sat in a recliner facing the window, his back to the door.

"Up late, Colonel?"

"Waiting for you, Sir," Jeff said.

"How did you know..."

"I didn't. It was just a guess. Slide a chair over and join me."

The General did so and seated himself, pushing the recliner back as he relaxed.

Jeff picked up the remote and killed most of the room lights so the two men could see out into the night.

The General motioned to a readout. "Is that thermometer right? Minus 8 F? What's this place going to be like up here when it really gets to be winter?"

"The base gets cold, too," Jeff injected.

"Yeah, but it was 30 F when we left."

Jeff chuckled. "One of the reasons I wound up with this place was the snow, cold, and its remoteness. Frank said the logistics of repeatedly bringing a number of people up here just wasn't worth the effort, despite the beauty of the place. My gain. And ... his gain as well," he laughed. "Now,  he gets to live here when he wants, calls it home, and doesn't have to worry about the logistics any more."

Whitworth looked over at his new Colonel. "Well, he might have to worry about them one more time. Didn't I hear you people talking about his and Margaret's wedding?"

"Oh, fuck. Don't remind me. Diana is making noises about her and several of my wives being limousine drivers if the weather is bad and the guests can't use the helicopters."

"That's a big fucking no," Whitworth exclaimed. "Haven't you talked to them about security? They would be far too vulnerable, thus making you vulnerable."

"Yeah, we talked about it." Then altering the subject slightly, "They're supposed to swap out the last two of our vehicles tomorrow for armored versions. Of course they're not bomb proof or anything of that nature. But the vehicles have Frank's new thin armor glass in them and light armor to surround the passenger compartment and vital vehicle components."

The General had his little device out again, but Jeff spoke up before Whitworth could, "Sir, like I said, the whole retreat is secure. As long as Little One is with me, I'm certain of that. I doubt if anyone could get past my computer/security system without my knowing it, but Little One would know even before that."

After checking it, the General put his device back into his pocket. "How do you know that? How can you trust it — her — to that extent?"

Jeff thought for a minute before replying, then, "I just can't see how she could possibly lie, even if she wanted to. Since I feel her emotions, I would know. Sir, she and the race who built her, are telepaths as I'm sure Diana told you. And unlike what I thought about how a telepath communicates, and probably what most people also think it would be like, a true telepathic race doesn't read the surface thoughts of someone else; doesn't read the words we're about to speak. At least the race who created her doesn't ... uh, well, I don't think they do."

"Now that really clarifies things — as in fucking not. So how the fuck do they do it, then?"

Jeff sighed. "I can only relate to some small extent the way Little One and I have learned to communicate. Look, take our present conversation for example. If I asked her about it, I would get a ... full download of the whole conversation — all at once. Whatever I wanted to know about the conversation would be there, including everything she saw and heard — and felt, the crackling of the fire, the security lights in the distance over there, the feel of our bodies (hers and mine), everything. The description is crude, much too crude, and trust me, the real thing can be overwhelming. I've thrown up more than once from — I guess you would call it — sensory overload. Our communications started with just a buzzing I could hear in my mind, then I began to get emotions, then feelings that directed me to do certain things for Helen as Little One worked on her.

"Little One has expanded her capabilities, and to some extent, has expanded mine — enhanced me. By the way, you and your women have now been enhanced as well. You'll soon note better vision, smell, hearing — well all the senses. And in the next few days you will see changes in your bodies."

Whitworth looked embarrassed. For a general, that was something. "Uh, I've already noticed something..."

Jeff fought to keep his face straight. "You made love to both your women, I imagine." Jeff didn't mention how keen his sense of smell was. Something he was sure the General didn't want to hear about right now.

"I'm getting too old to make love to both of them on the same night, but tonight, it..."

"Got up again, and I'll bet you ejaculated more than you have in a while, too."

The General didn't answer verbally, but his grin did, anyway. After a moment, "So why don't the other Healers work the way yours does?"

"Well, according to Little One, she's a Prime's healer."

The General sat quietly for a moment. "And you're a Prime according to Diana. The ship responded to you so... Fuck, the ship is designed to be commanded by a Prime, isn't it? And that thing is sentient too, just like your healer? That's the reason the fucking ship just sits there and plays with us. Shit. Shit. Shit!"

The General sat up and turned to fully face Jeff. "Only you can communicate with the alien AI's. You need to command the portal program instead of Colonel Buckmann. Shit, this has gone on long enough. I need to get you back to the base. As soon as we get back..."

"Right after Hell freezes over!" Jeff almost shouted as he brought his recliner forward and turned to face the General. "Right fucking after Hell freezes over!"

Not only could the General hear Jeff — he would have had to be deaf not to — he could also feel Jeff. Shaken, Whitworth finally forced himself to tear his eyes away from Jeff's. The General started to stand, but couldn't. He forced himself to keep from saying, "Yes, Sir!" But it was a close thing.

Jeff forced calm to his words. "Sir, I have my family here. I have all the money I will need in my lifetime, and I'm making more at an insane rate. I'm willing to help, but I've already served my country." Jeff's eyes locked with the General's again. "You will not try to force me to come back. You will not!"

"Ah, shit," Whitworth mumbled as he pushed back in the recliner. "Ah, shit."

The two sat in silence for a good ten minutes, both staring toward the window, but registering little of what they were seeing. Jeff fought with his anger, eventually forcing a calm about his mind, his breathing slowing as he tried to reason out their problem.

Whitworth's mind bounced from one thing to another, always coming back to the memory of Jeff's eyes. That's the same thing he did to me in my office. If I push too hard — something happens. Something I can't control. Something I don't even want to control, at least when it's happening. But I need him. I need him at the base all the time, but since I don't expect an ice age in Hell for the near future, I've got to come up with something else. Fuck it. I'm grateful to the guy. He just saved Barbara's life, and if what Diana says is true, there's no telling how long we will live — all three of us. Hell, Matthews could be a multi-billionaire overnight with that Healer. All he would have to do is heal some of those old billionaires and make them young again. He could charge what he wanted to and they would be glad to pay it. And yeah, I could take the Healer back — I guess. Well, if I brought in enough troops, that is. Even then, Matthews has hinted that the Healer has considerable power. And apparently he is the only one who can make it work. Fuck, what am I even thinking about that for. No fucking way would I try to get it back — well, her back, and I did give my word. Shit!

"Matthews, I..."

"Why don't you just call me Jeff? Everyone else does."

The General chuckled, at a loss for words. "Of all the things I expected you to say, that damn sure wasn't it."

"Sorry, General. About earlier, I guess..."

"Ah, fuck it. I guess we're at cross purposes here."

"We'll iron it out, Sir."

"Damn it, Colonel, that ship just sits there doing nothing. Those Healers have quit..." Taking a breath, the General blew it out slowly. "I need to get you some security — real security. Whether you fucking realize it or not, you've just become a fucking national security asset, and ... a national security risk. I can't ignore that."

"Bullshit, General. You're overreacting to this ... uh, Sir."

The General got up and walked over to the window, unconsciously locking his hands behind him in a parade rest as he stared out into the night. Finally, "I don't think I am, Colonel. You've already told me you think this thing with ... Hagewood is suspicious. We both know my people should have been able to find and eliminate him. I couldn't risk my only truly successful mission commander to some asshole with a grudge, so I sent people out to find him. But, as we've discussed before, it's as if he dropped off the face of the Earth. Then this woman who helped him get out of jail turns up dead in a Teton river. But nobody in the area has seen him or that twerp of a son of his. And,  if he has been around, someone would remember Hagewood's big ass. It just doesn't make sense that we can't find him — unless he has help. Professional help..."

"Sir, even if he does, it doesn't mean that it has anything to do with me..."

"And, what if it does have something to do with you, huh?" the General snapped back. "I'd be guilty of neglect of duty if I didn't make your personal security my top priority. Now I fucking know you are the most important person in the whole Portal Study Group, because only you can communicate with the AI's and, more importantly, you're the only one who ever really flew a real fucking faster-than-light interstellar spaceship, with all that entails. Worse, you're the only man that ship has really responded to. Oh, we managed to get it off the ground in the beginning. Then it was like ... it got tired of our pilots trying to mess with it. One dead; one a nutcase for a while, although he's mostly all right now, another one you couldn't drag back aboard. One though," he said as he spun around to face Jeff, "who flew it back through the dimensions across who knows how much actual distance. You would think that person would be parading around saying, 'Look at me. Look at what I've done.' But instead, you want to sit at home and tinker with another invention."

The General glared at Jeff. "How in the fuck can you not want to command that thing; go — hell — anywhere?" he finished, throwing up his hands in a gesture of inconceivability.

" ... And leave my wives and the rest of my family," Jeff snapped back. "There's somebody out there somewhere who can command that ship..."

"Fucking A," the General said, "And if we do find him, I'm supposed to give him command of possibly the most powerful thing on this planet? Not bloody likely. We've had our problems in the past, but most of that came from you wanting to stay home, or whatever — 'live your own life, ' as I think you put it. And yeah, I can understand that, but I need you too. The portal project needs you. You have a way of thinking on your feet — that shit about thinking outside the box that has been run into the ground. But you can. Maybe it's this Prime thing. Fuck, I don't know. I want to see what the fuck else is inside that mountain where you found that ship. But we need the portal aperture to be bigger — a lot bigger. Those beings on that planet are obviously not the ones that built the ship, but their technology — at least as far as weapons are concerned — is quite capable of giving us hell as long as all we have with us are small arms. We need some armor and the fucking aperture isn't big enough to get it through. If we go back with them waiting on us, we're going to get our asses kicked. I've lost enough people sending them through that portal. We've finally found a planet with a wealth of information buried in that mountain. And thanks to you we got inside the mountain."

"General, I'm not leaving my women until this thing with Hagewood is settled. I have a really bad feeling about it."

"Security..." the General started.

"I don't care if I have 'security' running out my ass. The only one I trust to protect my women is me," Jeff said, jerking a thumb toward himself.

"Alright, alright. Don't get that Prime thing started again, or whatever the fuck you do. But I was serious about protecting you and that..."

"Don't you dare call her a thing," Jeff broke in.

"Hell, I was going to say alien. But I need to protect the both of you."

"General, we..."

"What kind of weapons do you have?"

"Well we have a number of Glock .40 cals hidden about the retreat. All the women have purses with a holster that holds a pistol and makes it accessible without opening the purse. I have several MP 5s (a submachine gun) hidden in strategic places. My security system is fast becoming a true AI, thanks to two of my wives. Our vehicles' armor will stop anything up to and including a .50 caliber round..."

" ... And a well-armed force of a few men could take this place in minutes, and you know it. Even if your women can get to the weapons, a few pistols and 9 mm submachine guns would just wind up getting them killed in the end.

"I told you I think I have a leak. If they have found out about that ship, then they might well have found out about you. Take the women and they have you. Take you and they have the key to the ship. I need to get you some real security here ASAP. And I need to get you some real weapons and get your women trained to use them."

Jeff glared at him. "I do not want a security detail stationed here in the retreat."

"Then we need to figure out where to put them."

Jeff thought for a second, then stood. "Get your coat, Sir, and meet me at the back door. I need to tell Diana where we're going."

"I don't even know where the back door is."

Jeff chuckled. "Go on past the kitchen; take a right at the next hallway."

" ... And it's midnight," the General said, looking at his watch.

"So?" Jeff answered, walking out.

-------

Jeff put two handheld, one million candlepower spotlights on the floorboard and climbed in.

The General, trying to knock some of the snow off, slammed the side of his boot against the step as he got into the passenger seat of the truck. Some of the snow came off the tread of his boot, but not all.

Jeff started the truck as Whitworth closed his door. "Don't worry about it. The mats are durable, and they get a dose of snow just about every day, at least lately."

Whitworth buckled his belt. "What did your wife say?"

"She told me to not fuss at you anymore," Jeff answered as he looked in his mirrors.

"So, do you have the place wired or something? It damn sure didn't show up on my equipment. How did she know?"

Having backed from the outside garage, Jeff dropped the truck in gear and started around the half loop to the front. "Trust me. I've asked questions like that for the last several months. I didn't even bother to ask this time. She just knows. And before you ask, the others can do it to some extent, but not nearly as well as she can. Any one of them can tell where I am though — all the time. The only reason I bothered to tell her is so she wouldn't worry when I left the retreat."

"That's a bit..."

"They've done it in front of witnesses — doubting witnesses — who were no longer doubters after my wives walked straight to where I was hidden, over and over. Arlene has been able to do it since she was eight — long before I got the Healer. Now Evie can do it to Dave. I would just about bet that shortly your wives will be able to do it to you, too."

"And that's a good thing?" Whitworth said as he got his first view of the chasm as the headlights shot off into the nothingness they called the abyss. Then, "Oh, fuck. How deep is that thing?"

Jeff chuckled as he guided the truck around the second turn. "You can see the bottom in the daytime. Anything over thirty feet is almost certain death anyway. A few hundred feet more to fall wouldn't really matter. Besides, you ride in helicopters all the time, anyway. A little height shouldn't bother you."

"Yeah, but it's different sitting in a fucking truck," Whitworth grumped, "particularly when I'm not driving."

"You'll have to give your wives a ride around the area in the morning. We have some truly beautiful scenery. Also, the Rocky Mountain National Park isn't that far, either. Hmmm. On second thought, though, I think it's closed for the winter. But ... you can casually drive down the driveway and scare the crap out of your wives, then show them around Winter Park. They have a couple really nice restaurants, and most of the ski lodges have good basic dining as well. If you like real country cooking, you'll pass right by Martha's place at the foot of the mountain."

"Ellen is scared shitless of heights. A trip down this driveway could get me cut off for a month if she thought I was scaring her on purpose."

Jeff turned right at the bottom of the drive, flipped the selector to four wheel drive, and letting the plow down as he started up the mountain. "I doubt if you'll be 'cut off' anytime in the near future, now that they've been enhanced. They'll be too horny to even think about it. That caused some major problems after I used the Healer on Diana and Arlene."

Whitworth looked over at Jeff, wondering. Then ignoring the comment about Jeff's wife and daughter, the General said, "I hope you're right, and come to think of it, I would like to drive around a little while we're here. Now why in hell are we going up this road that has obviously not been plowed out in a while?"

"One vehicle came up it a while back when the snow wasn't very deep. Dave saw the tracks and also drove up to check out why someone would be coming up here." A few minutes later, Jeff brought the truck to a halt. "The vehicle turned around somewhere about here. In the daytime, you can see a part of the retreat through the trees there," he said pointing. "Someone was obviously checking us out, or trying to find a vantage point where he could, at least."

"Shit," Whitworth commented with feeling, then, "So where are we going?"

"Just a little farther," Jeff said, putting the truck in motion again.

Shortly, they were in the abandoned ski lodge's parking lot. A little farther and Jeff stopped the truck with its lights playing on the building. Whitworth powered his window down, picked up one of the lights, and scanned the lodge. "This was once a nice place, if the outside is any indication. What the fuck happened? An avalanche?"

"Yeah. I think a couple dozers and a few days would fix the main ski slope, but it would take a bit more than that to fix the building."

Whitworth shined his light on the right side of the long building. "You mean that big ass tree across the building there I guess," he laughed.

"Yeah, and that big boulder over there," Jeff said directing Whitworth to move his light, "apparently didn't slow down much when it went through the building."

"How many were killed?"

"I've just heard rumors, but from what I hear, there were several people hurt, but no one killed. The outfit that owned the place went belly up. But from what I can see, there are still quite a few rooms, plus the office area, that are in pristine condition. It looks like they put plastic over the end there to protect what was left — well where the rock made a new end," he chuckled.

"So, do you think I could buy the place? I'm sure you're suggesting this for a headquarters for a security force, aren't you."

"Yeah, I thought it would fill the bill, but you can't buy the place," Jeff answered, deadpan.

"Well, fuck, if they won't sell it, maybe I can have it condemned, then buy it."

"Why do that? Just move in." When Whitworth narrowed his eyes and looked at him, Jeff continued, "The lawyers are coming up tomorrow to close on the property. My project manager got it for a song. My project manager got it for a song from the receiver who was desperate to unload it. I bought it to keep someone else from eventually buying the place, opening it up and bringing in a lot of traffic to the area. We should have the keys by tomorrow afternoon."

"They're coming up here, to the retreat, instead of your having to meet at a lawyer's office?"

"Advantage of having money."

Whitworth got out of the truck and struggled through the three-foot snow to the front door of the resort, Jeff right behind him. Jeff hadn't expected to get out, and the snow soon worked its way inside his shoes. Shrugging off the cold, he didn't say anything, but wished he had worn high-top boots, instead.

Whitworth put his spotlight against the glass and shined it around. "Hey, this place looks nice, but it would need some modification for a team to quarter here. We would need a ready room, some..."

"I have a contractor who does good work and knows how to keep his mouth shut. He's also my project manager."

The General turned to Jeff. "You talking about Dave?"

"Yeah."

"No need to involve him and a crew of civilians. I can easily get a crew in here."

"And that would just be that many more people at the base who know about the security force and the retreat — not to mention this place. Dave's people will keep their mouths shut, and besides, it'll just be another project for the rich dude on the mountain, as far as they're concerned. They probably think I'm crazy, already. I suggest you get whoever is going to command your — uh, my — security unit out here and let him tell us what he will need. That way Dave and Evie will be the only local people who know why the work is really being done, and I trust both of them beyond measure."

Whitworth turned to stare into the moonlit darkness. "How far does the property go back toward yours?"

"They join. By tomorrow afternoon, I'll own everything to the top of the mountain. We're also negotiating to buy the property between the retreat and my nearest neighbor."

"You mean, down the mountain?"

"Yeah. Like my grandfather used to say, 'God only made that land to hold the world together.' It's pretty, but rugged as hell, just like the land we passed coming up here to the lodge. Some old lady owned it and I'm reasonably sure it's going to be mine very shortly. It's not as if there are a lot of people who want to live up here, anyway. And the property surely isn't good for much of anything other than looking pretty. Rugged grandeur I think the travel agents call it."

The two men trudged back through the deep snow. Inside the truck, the General held his hands against the heat vents. "Shit, I don't have on enough clothes for this."

"Well, just imagine how it feels to a Georgia boy. I've spent most of my time inside the retreat since it got cold."

"Shit, Son. With nine beautiful women, you would be insane to be anywhere else." The General knew he had fucked up the moment the words left his mouth.

"Yep. And why in the hell would I give up my life to walk through that portal to some planet that is dead, or has a bunch of beings who want to make me that way?"

"Well, fuck."

Jeff chuckled as he cut the wheel hard and started out of the lot. After a moment, he looked over at the General and laughed again. After Jeff turned onto the road, Whitworth gave up and laughed, also.

There was quiet for a minute or so, then, "You going to marry those girls I saddled you with?"

"No," Jeff said, cutting his eyes toward the General for a second, wondering what was going on.

"They're the same age as some of your wives — your daughter to name one."

Jeff ignored the daughter comment. "They're the same age, but ... they came from an entirely different background. They don't have much life experience..."

"They fucking got raped by that asshole, Ingles," Whitworth broke in. "Seems to me that's one hell of a life experience for them. What are you going to do, grow them up, then send them off to marry some guys, all of which will then find out about you and the healer? Better think about it, Son. Even if we put in the blocks, some of the information is liable to come out sooner or later. Better to just nip it in the bud."

Jeff swung into the drive and started up. "Shit, General, I expected you to give me a lecture about keeping my dick out of them. I didn't expect the opposite out of you."

Whitworth stared over into the darkness for a moment, then turned back to Jeff. "Okay, I'm not too keen on marrying off fifteen and sixteen year-old girls, but they never had anything. They've been shit on from the get-go. It doesn't take a fucking genius to tell that your wives worship the ground you fucking walk near, let alone walk on. Worse things could happen to those girls. And if I remember correctly, the twins will be sixteen in a few days."

"Look, uh, Sir, I have enough problems as it is. My Queen is now pushing me to marry her mother. Her mother who hates my ass. And what the fuck am I going to do about Kayla? You sent her up here to help the girls, now my wives just about have me married to her already. And truth be told, I've fallen for her."

"Ah, fuck. It was obvious by the time she was back from the mission that she was hooked on you. The girls needed a stabilizing influence, and she seemed the logical choice. Wasn't even my idea. The psychologist pushed the idea, but since you were already sleeping with her at the base, I didn't think you would mind."

"I slept with her. I didn't fuck her."

Whitworth looked at Jeff, then grinned. "If anyone else had said that, I would have called him a liar..."

" ... And I still haven't."

"Now that's stretching believability, my young Colonel. With a ... uh, Queen who has told me in no uncertain terms she was looking for more wives for you, and you haven't touched a woman like Kayla? Son, you need to listen to your wife," Whitworth laughed. "Your woman told me that you were quite capable of seeing to the needs of several more wives."

The General's chuckling went on as the truck roared up the driveway with Jeff studiously staring straight ahead.



-------

Chapter 61

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA — THE WEE HOURS OF FRIDAY MORNING

A little goodwill can sometimes be a marvelous thing. Word had gotten around the hospital about the food Fred and his women had provided for the ICU nurses. Room 331 was one of the hospital's new rooms — a little bigger and the furniture wasn't quite as cheap. There was a couch in the room that folded into a fairly nice bed, and one recliner that also folded flat. They had no sooner gotten into the room yesterday than another recliner and two more straight chairs were brought in. Obviously, there had been communication between the ICU and floor nurses other than just that concerning the patient's condition.

-------

As the nurse walked in for her 3:00 A.M. vitals, she stopped to look at the scene. Two of the women were asleep on the bed; another was sitting in a recliner just watching. The man was sitting in a straight chair with it facing the bed. He had let the patient's bed down as far as it would go, and sat in the chair, slumped forward, his upper body resting on the hospital bed while he held hands with the patient's even as he slept.

Hating to disturb them, the nurse, nevertheless, had to take the patient's vital signs. She gently tried to disengage Fred's hand, but he flinched and glared at her.

"Sorry, Sir," she quietly said. "I need to take her blood pressure."

As Fred moved his hand, she pressed the button on the blood pressure monitor and the cuff inflated to squeeze the patient's arm. The body on the bed jerked a little when the cuff squeezed.

"It's all right, Sweetie," the nurse automatically said. "I'm just taking your blood pressure. The cuff will relax in just a minute." Meanwhile, she took Pamela/Brenda's temperature and continued with patient assessments, turning to enter them into the wall-mounted computer nearby.

As soon as the blood pressure reading popped up on the screen, Fred took Brenda's hand again. Before he could speak, he could hear Brenda, "What was that? I felt something. Fred, are you there? Fred, answer me!"

"I'm here, Baby. Everything is fine," he said aloud before he remembered that Brenda could hear him if he thought instead of verbalizing as long as there was body contact.

The nurse smiled at them, turned the lights back to the low setting and walked out, thinking, If a loving family will help this woman, she has it made.

-------

DAYBREAK ON MATTHEWS' MOUNTAIN

As breakfast was drawing to a close, the General looked over at Jeff, "I've taken your advice. We've decided to ride around the area some, if we can borrow one of your vehicles, Colonel."

Without a word, Arlene came by and put a set of keys on the table in front of him almost before he finished his statement. As he turned to stare at her as she walked away, Jeff chuckled. "Get used to it, Sir. They frequently have the answer before I have the question."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Whitworth said as a grinning Arlene began gathering up dishes.

"It's the black one sitting on this end of the inside garage. It's all gassed up and ready to go, but there's a credit card in the glove compartment if you need more gas," she said.

Whitworth turned to Jeff. "So you have tanks up here?"

"Well, I don't per se. Frank already had them installed when we moved in," he said, nodding to Wainwright, who smiled back. "My younger wives have taken over the job of making sure all our vehicles are ready at any time, and that includes checking the fluids and letting me know when it's time to change the oil."

"And they're teaching us," Nicki proudly said.

"So you've never gassed a vehicle before?" Whitworth asked, mostly joking.

Nicki, taking his comment seriously said, "Not until day before yesterday. We didn't even know what a motor looked like until Arlene raised the hood and showed us."

"We've ridden busses when the school took us on field trips," Nat injected.

"And we rode in a van when the orphanage took us to that awful foster home," Whitney added. "Then we got to ride in an Escalade when Arlene and Kayla took us shopping in Winter Park. They bought us so many nice things. We haven't even gotten to wear them all yet. Thank you again for sending us here."

That produced a rush to hug and kiss the General on the cheek. He blustered, but hugged them all back as Jeff winked at him.

Barbara and Ellen got up to help with cleanup. "You don't have to do that," Diana scolded. "Why don't you guys go ahead and hit the road? We put a map in your SUV and a list of things that we've found interesting that we thought you might want to see. You can just program the GPS to take you to them, or use the map and just drive around if you had rather do that. We've programmed the retreat into all our GPS units, so if you get lost, you can just hit Home and it will bring you back here."

"That's so thoughtful of you and we'll certainly do that. Right now though, we're going to at least help with cleanup. We're both feeling guilty about not getting to the kitchen in time to assist in preparing the meal," Ellen said.

As the women continued talking, Jeff stood and motioned to the General to follow him. Ann, smiling, was just finishing putting a carafe of coffee, cups and a platter of hot cinnamon rolls on a serving cart.

"Thank you, Wife," Jeff said as he turned to her, knowing she liked to be called that.

Ann put both arms around his neck and stretched up to kiss her husband. The kiss only lasted ten seconds or so, but it was time enough to produce two very noticeable bumps in her blouse. The General quickly averted his eyes and pretended he hadn't noticed.

Ann put her mouth close to Jeff's ear and whispered, "I'm so proud to be your wife, and I'm sooo glad I saved my armor-plated hymen for you." With a soft giggle, she prissed away.

Very aware of Ann's intellect, Jeff knew that even though she had whispered, she had intentionally let Whitworth hear, since he was only a step away. Chuckling to try and cover his embarrassment, Jeff pushed the cart toward the kitchen door. "Come on. Let's get out of the way before the women start griping about useless men in the kitchen."

In the living room, Jeff turned the thermostat down and pushed the cart near a couple nice chairs, then knelt to start the fire.

The General poured their coffee and commented, "Looks like one of your wives has already laid the fire for you."

With the fire started, Jeff stood up and looked over at Whitworth. "One of my wives, or Dave, or one of his wives, or Frank, or ... Heck, no telling who it was. I walked in to clean out the ashes last week and Frank Wainwright was just finishing up. A multi-billionaire and he cleaned out the fireplace."

Whitworth cut each of them a piece of roll. Jeff took his plate as the General slid a large piece of cinnamon roll on, picked up a fork and grabbed his coffee. Both men sat.

Whitworth put his coffee on a nearby table, then took a bite of the cinnamon roll. After chewing for a second, he froze, then chewed again and swallowed. "That is the best fucking cinnamon roll I've ever tasted. Who..."

"It's Diana's recipe. Hmmm, come to think of it, I think it originally came from Susan. Anyway, the new girls, at Susan's direction, made these first thing this morning. They were in the kitchen by four o'clock."

Whitworth took another bite of roll, then, "Your mother-in-law seems to be doing a lot for the girls," then quickly added, "Teenagers, up at four o'clock. You've got to be kidding me."

"Remember what I told you about your body changing. Little One has made our bodies far more efficient. We don't need as much sleep and we have a whole lot more energy. Plus ... my Queen expects her sister-wives to get along and be ... self-starters."

"And since she wants those girls to be future wives for you, she is instilling that in them as well."

Jeff took a bite of cinnamon roll, then a sip of coffee before replying. "I really don't know how it works, maybe Little One has something to do with it. Hell, everyone here at the retreat is a self-starter. You heard me talking to Dave about plowing out the driveway at four in the morning. Evie, Linda and Kim are just like him. Something needs to be done around here, someone does it. They don't gripe, bitch, or say something isn't their job. They just do it. We're all family. The only thing the men are — well — forbidden to do is anything to do with food, uh, other than carrying it in for the women when they go shopping. And ... eating it, of course," he joked.

"I imagine shopping takes up a lot of time with your wives cooking for so many people."

Jeff got up to pour some more coffee for both of them. "Not really. Oh, they go shopping every week, but generally just for unusual things. We have a service that brings up an order twice a week. The women run all that, unless I want something special."

Whitworth thanked Jeff with a nod. "Those shopping trips need to be protected, too."

"Well, I never let them go out without me, other than Caitlin and Joyce, of course."

"They're vulnerable also," Whitworth said.

"I know. Shit, I know. But it's like talking to the wall. Joyce says she's not quitting right after she was shot. It would make women look bad. And Caitlin is still hanging in there about being a nurse. Of course, this new job of hers is turning out to be a lot different, so I'm hoping..."

"We'll put someone on their security when we get things going."

"Since Caitlin is a nurse, I guess we could set something up for her okay, but Joyce is a county deputy, for goodness sake. I've racked my brain, but I can't figure out how to do anything. And she's adamant that no one is going to hold her hand."

"Maybe they'll be more receptive when we have the blocks in and we can tell them more."

"Yeah," Jeff mumbled, and as a friend of mine is so fond of saying, 'and if frogs had wings... '"

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA, A LITTLE AFTER 9:00 A.M.

Everyone groggy this morning from fitful sleep, or in Fred's case trying to nap while sitting up, they had just finished a late breakfast. The family had been given the option of receiving hospital meals when those of the other patients' were brought up, at extra charge of course, but Carla had nixed that idea, knowing there would not be enough food for Fred on a hospital tray. Audrey and Jessica had volunteered to get take-out orders from the cafeteria, so after the morning rush, they brought everyone breakfast.

Carla had sat looking at Pamela/Brenda on the bed. After a moment, Carla stood, "I'll be back in just a minute." Shortly, she returned with a small container in her hand.

Audrey was gathering up their breakfast trash and Jessica was folding the blanket from the couch/bed. "What's that, Mom?"

"Applesauce."

"Applesauce? Ugh, it looks like baby food."

"Exactly," Carla said as she finished peeling the top back on the plastic container. Sliding a straight chair over, "Raise the back of the bed up some, please," she told her mate. "We need her in a sitting position."

Fred started to respond negatively, remembering that the doctor said they would put a tube down Pamela/Brenda's throat today and start force-feeding, but at the last second, he looked at Carla. Shrugging mentally, he pressed the button to bring the young woman into a near sitting position.

Carla sat, put a tiny bit of the applesauce on the tip of a spoon and pushed it between Brenda's lips.

They waited.

Fred finally let out a sigh. "You tried."

Carla reached back with the spoon and gently wiped the tip under Brenda's upper lip as you would a baby to get the baby to taste or swallow. A few seconds later, the woman swallowed.

Smiling, Carla put a little more on the tip of the spoon and did it again. The swallow was quick to follow this time.

"Are you there?" Fred said aloud so the women could hear that he was talking to Brenda.

"Yeah, I'm here. Where else would I be?" Her mental voice seemed a little louder, and her tone was almost joking. Then after a moment, "Baby, I ... taste ... applesauce. I guess that's kinda crazy, huh?"

"No, Baby," Fred choked out. "It's not crazy at all. Carla is feeding it to you."

Jessica, now with her arms around Fred, kissed away a lone tear that slid down his face.

Carla was almost to the bottom of the small container of applesauce when Doctor Harris walked in. If the others in the room noticed him, they gave no indication. He stood watching Carla slowly feed his patient. It seems like every time I walk in here, something new happens. This woman was brain dead. Now the tests show almost furious activity in parts of her brain. It can't happen. Yet, I've seen things happen before that I can't explain. Could his wife really have come back? Crap, I wish Wilson would talk to me about it. He keeps holding back, claiming that I would think he's nuts. Hell, maybe I would, but even that might be some sort of explanation. Oh, crap, that doesn't make sense, even to me. What is going on?

"She's eating, Doctor. Not much, but she is eating," Audrey said, finally one of the women acknowledging his presence.

"Who thought of the ... applesauce, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's applesauce," Carla said. "I've spent a lot of time around a hospital. One of the nurses suggested I use applesauce to help my first husband take his pills after he became so weak from the cancer. She said they frequently used it when old people had problems swallowing medicine. It's about the consistency of baby food, so I thought..."

The doctor pulled up a chair and sat. "I had ordered tube feeding to start, but I think I'm going to hold off on that for a while. I'll order her some Jell-O, if you wouldn't mind feeding it to her the way you're doing the applesauce..."

Carla looked over at him. "In a heartbeat."

"I guess I don't need to mention choking to the family who already saved her once. And Jell-O is darned hard to strangle on. If the Jell-O works, we can try her on some broth. If she continues to improve we can start some mechanical soft in the morning."

Fred raised an eyebrow and looked at Harris.

The doctor chuckled. "Pureed food. Looks a lot like baby food and is the same general consistency. Also some creamed potatoes."

The nurse had come in shortly after the doctor. He motioned to the applesauce container and held up a couple fingers. She was back shortly with two more of the small containers.

When she left, Doctor Harris made a couple of false starts, then, his tone exasperated, said, "Mr. Wilson, you've hinted about your deceased wife when we talked yesterday, and I suppose I understand your reluctance to discuss something you might possibly expect me to have an ... adverse reaction to, but..." He abruptly stopped, wondering about his rambling, then sighed, "What we have lying on that bed shouldn't happen — ever. I can't explain it medically, and ... I'm open to ... Mr. Wilson, why do you think I would 'have you committed' if you told me why you think she is alive?"

Fred, having to fight a chuckle at the doctor's discomfiture, turned to fully look Harris in the eye. "Doctor, if you give me your solemn word, and I think you mean it, we'll all tell you our story. Your word that you will tell no one what we're about to tell you. And Doc, no disrespect meant, but I have a ... talent. I can tell, absolutely, one hundred percent of the time if someone is lying to me."

"If you have broken the law..."

"We have not."

Harris hesitated for a second, wondering. Then with reluctance, "All right. I give you my word."

"How much time do you have?" Fred asked, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"Well, I've finished my rounds. I have time."

Fred had heard the sincerity of the doctor's promise, and more importantly, felt it. The big man sat for a moment, the room totally silent as he gathered his thoughts. Then, "A few months ago, I was fat, my cholesterol and triglycerides sky-high. In short, I was a heart attack looking for a place to happen. Oh, I wasn't obese, but I had a big belly. My wife, Brenda, was my best friend, and as they say, soul mate — only she really was. She was the exact opposite of me health-wise, though. Although I had stopped running and exercising years ago, she had continued. And she ate a much better diet than I did.

"After retiring from the police department, I expanded my private detective agency, then a while back I sold it. We bought a large RV, sold our house, and we were getting ready to start on the trip that the four of us," he said, motioning with his hand to the women, "are on now. Then ... Brenda and I sat down in the mall for a meal and she just ... fell over."

Fred stopped because he knew his voice would fail him. After a moment, he cleared his throat and continued. "I won't bore you with the details, but I moved to Colorado at the insistence of my best friend and soon met Carla and Jessica. Had that friend not talked me into going with him, I would shortly have eaten my .45, and ... I suspect he knew that. I had been having — I have no real word for it — periods where I imagined I talked to my dead wife. I suspect a lot of widowers do this to some extent because they miss their wives so much and just pretend to talk to them to ease the sorrow. But the more I did it, the more it felt like she ... answered me." Fred stopped for a moment, then looked hard at the doctor. "You can probably guess what I'm going to say now. You sure you want to hear a madman's ravings? And remember that promise."

"Yeah, I want to hear. And I guess I know where you're going with this. And I do remember my promise."

Fred glanced down at the floor for a moment, then back at the doctor. "Brenda answered me back, but finally we decided — the two of us — that I wasn't just imagining that she was answering. She was almost as confused over this as I was — hell, maybe even more so. I guess I just gave up to the idea that I had gone round the bend. But ... her voice became stronger — I became sure it was actually her. Well, anyway, eventually, Carla and Jessica began to hear her too, then after we found Audrey, and she became intimate with me, uh, she could also talk to Brenda."

The doctor became very alert when he heard about the women being involved. "'Talk to her? As in two-way conversation? The women, too?"

"Yep. The real deal. Although they had to be touching me. Brenda could hear them speak aloud, through me, but to hear her, they had to be touching me, or touching another of them if that person was already touching me."

Carla motioned for Fred to wait for a moment. She reached over and briefly touched the doctor's hand. "There's something I think you need to know. Fred just mentioned that Audrey started to hear Brenda after Audrey became intimate with Fred. We're all his lovers and we couldn't hear Brenda until we had become intimate with our man. Now understand that my daughter and I come from a farm. We're practical people. Walking out to the barn at one o'clock in the morning to help a cow birth a calf or mare foal is something we've done so many times we couldn't count them. The farm is big, surrounded by mountains. On nights when there is no moon and it is cloudy, it is so dark you can stick your finger in your eye and not see the finger. The point being, we don't see ghosts or goblins when the wind blows and rattles the barn. We're not easily fooled, nor are we impressionable. This isn't one of those incidences where you think you have finally felt the Ouija board move. When I first heard Brenda, I would have peed my pants if I hadn't just gone to the bathroom. Well, maybe not quite that bad, but my point is, there is absolutely no doubt when she talks to us. Or did. Now that she's no longer in Fred's mind, and is in Pamela's body, only Fred can hear her."

Audrey slid her chair closer. "My business partner and I ran a RV park in Georgia until Fred, Carla and Jessica came along and I fell head over heels in love with Fred. I can talk to and hear Brenda just like the others can. Well, could,  until she somehow left Fred's mind and wound up with Pamela."

Doctor Harris sat back and thought for a moment. "So, how did this all happen about Ms. Gordon? I know about the rescue, but how did you wind up here at the hospital, and, uh, Brenda wind up in Ms. Gordon's body?" I can't believe I just said that,  the doctor thought just after hearing himself. No wonder Wilson made me promise. If that person on the bed weren't alive, I still wouldn't sit through this.

Fred sighed. "Oh, it gets weirder. Brenda insisted I get in the ambulance, then she wanted me to stay as near Pamela as I could. And before you ask, she didn't know why. When Pamela's body died, Brenda was every bit as upset as we were, probably more so. Then with a cutoff scream, she was gone from my mind."

"And that's when she wound up in ... uh, Ms. Gordon's body?"

"Crap, this all sounds ridiculous," Fred said. "When I worked for the department, we called people who talked like I'm doing EDPs, or said they were non compos mentis."

"Not of sound mind," Harris said, forcing a chuckle.

"Anyway, she first sounded like she was a long way off, hmmm, think tunnel or something like that. I could barely hear her, and apparently she was having the same problem. She was having major problems with, I guess the term is, sensory deprivation. She could feel absolutely nothing. Nor could she hear or see. I think she was about to go nuts until she heard me. She just told me she tasted the applesauce, and that's the first bit of sensory input she's had.

"Doc, Brenda is the reason we're here; the reason I'm paying the bills. She, us, all of us," he said motioning with his hand to include the women, "believe that somehow Brenda's death was a mistake. I'm not saying that God makes mistakes, but it just never seemed right that my fat ass lived and she died."

"You're certainly not fat now, and I still have problems believing you're as old as you say you are."

"I showed you my license."

"You know that Doctor McCutchens is trying to get Ms. Gordon moved to a research hospital?"

"Over my dead body," Fred snapped as his eyes locked with the doctor's.

Harris tore his eyes away. "It won't come to that. I'm still the hospitalist, and I'm in charge. I say she stays right here."

"Doctor, if they start an end run on me, I need to know."

"Doctor McCutchens and I have had some, uh, strong words. He's the neurologist I called in for a consultation. I just wanted a second doctor to sign off on Ms. Gordon's brain death. He has no control over this person on the bed, or say in the matter of her care."

Carla had opened one of the new packs of applesauce and was feeding it to Brenda as Harris watched.

"She's eating it much better," Carla said.

"Give it about thirty minutes, and I'll get you a tray of mechanical soft in here. I'm still totally amazed at this. And ... I'm struggling to believe what you people have just told me..."

Fred grinned at him. "I told you it would fly against all your training."

Harris got an amused half-smile on his face. "I think that could very well be the understatement of the day. So, is there any way you can prove to me that all you have said isn't just your imaginations?"

Fred didn't hesitate. "No way at all, at least until she gains the functions of Pamela's body. When she can talk, we can probably prove things."

"So, you think that your, uh, deceased wife will eventually gain complete control of Ms. Gordon's body?"

Fred thought for a minute, having said what he had without thinking it through. Instead of answering, he reached over and took Brenda's hand again. "How are you doing, Baby?" he said aloud so the doctor could hear.

"Where have you been?"

"I've been talking to the doctor."

"Well hold my hand when you talk to him so I can hear what you're saying," she grumped. "And rub my right foot. It hurts."

"Rub her right foot, Jessica. Brenda says it hurts."

Jessica slid her chair around, lifted the sheet and began to massage Brenda's foot. Her right leg jerked.

"Her hands are cold."

"She said your hands are cold."

Jessica reached over and put her hand on the doctor's neck. His eyes widened. After a moment, he looked at Jessica. "Exchange places with me, please."

Jessica grinned at him and did so.

"Mr. Wilson, please continued to hold the young lady's hand, but turn your back so you can't see me. Please ask, uh ... Brenda to tell you what she feels, if anything."

Fred didn't say anything aloud as he communicated with Brenda, then a few seconds later, said, "She can understand me without my saying it aloud."

Harris put the sheet over Brenda's foot and his hands.

"Brenda says you tapped her foot three times."

Harris frowned, then being very careful to not move his arms or the sheet...

"She said you tapped once, then after a pause, tapped twice more."

Harris's face flushed, but after a second, he continued.

Fred chuckled. "She said you sent her SOS in Morse code."

Harris was almost there, but knew that Fred might have guessed the SOS. After a longer pause this time, Fred chuckled again. "She said, very indignantly, and I quote, 'I am not a friggin' ghost, ' end quote. And by the way, Doc, that's a sore spot with her."

Harris concentrated, making sure the sheet didn't move and his fingertip made no sound as it tapped the bottom of Brenda's foot.

After a moment. "She said, apology accepted, but why the number one hundred after it?"

Harris pulled his hands back from under the sheet and slumped back in the chair. "Because you might have guessed that I would send an apology, but you wouldn't expect the number one hundred to be tacked onto the end. By the way, where did she learn code? I'm a ham operator, so I have an excuse," he teased.

Fred turned around so he now faced the doctor. "We ... have a history, that we still can't talk about. We learned code there. We've done a lot of things together."

"My wife will never believe..." Harris ground to a halt, embarrassed that he mentioned his ex-wife. Crap, I used to share everything with her. Then aloud, "Sorry, that just slipped out because of what you just said. I used to share things with my wife, but even if she were still around, I would honor my promise to you. I'm just a little upset. Well, make that a lot upset, I guess. It isn't every day a physician gets to talk with the dead."

Carla got up and handed the container of applesauce to Audrey. "Here, my love. Would you please finish feeding this to Brenda? Jessica, come with me. Doctor Harris, let's go down to the cafeteria and have a cup of coffee."

Jessica and Carla linked arms with the doctor and lead him out the door. Jessica looked back and winked at Fred as the door closed behind them.



-------

Chapter 62

SHORTLY AFTER 3:00 P.M. — THE RETREAT

Amazing Jeff, there were absolutely no problems with the closing on the ski lodge property. Money transferred, everyone satisfied, including the creditors' representative, they were all served key lime pie afterward. Shortly the attorneys, creditor's person and accountant were sent on their way, full-bellied, and with visions of beautiful, young women on their minds. (Jeff's younger wives had served the pie.) Jeff, Diana and Arlene stood in the living room watching on the big screen as the vehicles played follow the leader down the driveway.

Diana hugged her husband. "That was a lot simpler than the closing on our house in Georgia."

Jeff chuckled. "Well for one thing, the money was there, and this time there wasn't a loan institution adding their bit of paperwork to the mix. And I guess it helps when both parties involved think they have been the ones to come out on top of the deal. We got the property for a whole lot less than we first estimated it to cost, and I think the creditor's guy was just amazed that someone bought it."

"So, now are we going to have a place to ski, Daddy?"

Jeff grinned at his daughter, knowing she was teasing. "Always trying to stir something up, aren't you?" he laughed. "It hasn't even been a week yet since you went down the driveway on that snowboard, so I definitely haven't forgotten." Then, "You know why I wanted to buy the lodge originally, but we now have an even better reason."

"Yeah, Mom told us what you said about security. So how is that going to work?"

Jeff didn't answer, but instead turned to pick her up. She giggled and locked her legs around his waist as he walked over to a couch with her. Unceremoniously dropping her so he could watch her braless breasts bounce, he quickly reached to pull her shorts and panties off.

"Dadddee," she squealed in mock fear. "What if someone comes in?"

"Then they can watch and take lessons," he said as he knelt and applied his mouth to her pussy. Shortly, her thighs clamped to his head as her orgasms began.

Diana sat beside her daughter, staring at her husband. She had loved him almost since she could remember. She pulled her top above her breasts and idly played with her nipples. She fought back a shudder as she thought of how she had betrayed him with Jack. Now that she knew most of the story about Jeff's bargain with the General for the Healer, she had come to more fully realize just what her husband had done for her, how he had freed her from a lifetime of pain from a broken ankle that would never have healed properly — but the cost ... the cost. And there was more — much more:

Diana had recently learned that her husband was far, far more important, influential and successful than anything she had ever heard about — more so than any man in the world, she realized. She now knew he was the point man for all of humanity's interstellar exploration, the world's only starship pilot/commander, and she had just found out how he almost died during that impossible mission he had traded for the Healer, all so she wouldn't be in pain. To Diana, Jeff, always her most important man in her world, just became the most important man to the entire world. She had tried to hold her thoughts back, keep them at an even keel since she had talked with the General, but watching her husband with her daughter set her off. Power is, indeed, the greatest aphrodisiac there is. Diana let the thoughts of what the General said flood her mind. This was her husband. The man who was now driving her daughter crazy with his tongue — the man who commanded a true starship. The Queen, the one everyone turned to for advice, the one who never lost her cool, suddenly surrendered to the love and lust that were always so close to the surface when her husband was near.

As Arlene finally succumbed to the orgasms and passed out, Jeff sat back to look at Diana. She snatched off her shorts and panties and fairly leapt onto him, pushed him, laughing, to his back. His shoes, pants and undershorts were gone as fast as she could make it happen. She grabbed his already-hard cock and shoved her mouth down on it, sucking so hard her cheeks hollowed, her mouth working up and down his shaft. Almost frantic, she knelt over him, lining up his cock with her entrance and slammed herself downward, dropping her whole weight onto him. His cock tore its way up her tightened tunnel, the head slamming against her cervix. The pain/pleasure ripped through her, her nipples suddenly spraying hair-thin streams of milk as her first orgasm hit, then continued on into the next as she worked her hips to almost frantically move her pussy on his cock, visions of babies she would one day have for her Prime vivid in her mind. She was hotter than she could ever remember being. She leaned forward, her face close to his so she could stare at this most important man in the world — this man she belonged to. I'm his Queen,  she thought as her pussy massaged his cock that was buried so deeply within her. She vaguely felt his hands kneading her breasts, pulling on her nipples, making her milk spurt, but the unending orgasm was consuming her. She fought to stay conscious; she wanted to please this man; this unbelievably important man, her man who commanded more power than she could ever imagine. He grasped her hips and hammered into her, knowing that she loved to be taken. She reached a plateau of pleasure she had never reached before, and it went on and on.

He came. His semen/sperm boiled out of him; the force as it jetted into her, astonishing. She...

As consciousness left her, she slumped forward onto his chest, her pussy squeezing harder than he had ever felt before. He was afraid to move his dick within her for fear of tearing something inside her and maybe even hurting himself. The world swam about him as the last of his semen pumped into her, making an audible sound as it was forced out of her overfilled tunnel to mat their groins. He didn't know what had gotten into the now unconscious woman lying on his chest, but he darn sure liked it. After long moments that he spent just holding her lovingly against him stroking her hair, he managed to pull his cock from her.

Shifting, he came to his feet with her in his arms, then gently laid her on the couch beside Arlene. Getting a handful of tissues, he stuffed them between her legs, wiped his cock, then donned his clothes. Realizing that his face was sticky, he had just gotten a third handful of tissue when Dave walked into the room and around to the front of the couch where Jeff stood wiping his face.

As Dave glanced to the side, he saw Diana and Arlene sprawled on the couch, both minus the lower half of their clothes, and with tops pulled above their breasts. A large dollop of come pushed out of Diana's swollen pussy lips.

"Oops. Sorry," Dave stammered, quickly turning away.

Jeff threw the tissues in the trash can and grinned as his friend walked over to the fireplace and stood staring into the fire. "Now don't tell me you're embarrassed. Seems to me that I remember us all making love in here a few days ago."

"Well, yeah, but, I mean ... I was kinda busy at the time. I didn't see; I mean, I didn't expect ... Ah, shit, Jeff. I need some advice," Dave stammered out, the back of his neck a flaming red that matched his face.

"'Advice?'" Jeff chuckled. "Now that sounds deep." He looked over at a barely-conscious Diana, who had not yet made any effort to pull her top down, let alone put her shorts back on. "Maybe we need to go to your place. I could use something cold and wet right now, anyway."

They hadn't taken two steps toward the door when Susan bustled in. "Have you seen Diana?" she asked, obviously excited about something.

Jeff gestured, barely keeping his face straight. "Yeah, she and Arlene are over on the couch there," he answered, motioning.

The two men had just reached the door, when they heard a squawk from Susan as she walked around the couch. Chuckling, Jeff pushed Dave out the door and both men trotted down the hall until they turned the corner.

"Oh, shit. She's going to be pissed," Dave laughed. "You can bet she's having a fucking stroke right now after seeing Arlene like that."

"Damn. I wish she had walked in when I had my tongue buried in Arlene's pussy."

"Well, sometimes imagination is better than the real thing. I'll bet she's getting a pretty clear mental image of what happened."

"She hates me, as she calls it, 'fucking' my daughter. She won't acknowledge that I'm making love to my wife."

Dave stopped and turned to Jeff just as they got to Dave's apartment door. "Why won't you make love to Susan and get her past this? I heard Evie and Diana talking about it yesterday. Shit, man. Susan is a damn good-looking woman. And because of the Healer, the age is practically falling off her. She could pass for Diana's older sister now. In a couple more days, she'll probably look still younger."

"Dave, I have nine wives. That's nine, as in one less than ten. And they're all foxes. And besides, if I'm going to mess with anyone, it will be Kayla, and I'm putting that off."

Dave just grinned at him, but didn't answer. The men went on into Dave's apartment, stopping by the kitchen where they raided the refrigerator for a snack and a drink, then headed for his living room. They sat, Jeff on a chair and Dave on the couch where he slipped his boots off and propped his feet on the coffee table. Jeff continued, "If you're so concerned about Susan, why don't you take her?"

Dave barely caught himself before he coughed into his drink. "Shit, she's your family, and you know it. Everybody here knows that you will take her sooner or later. I'm just saying to do it sooner and get the woman out of her misery — and everyone else's."

"She hates me. Always has," Jeff objected.

Dave waved his hand a bit to negate Jeff's comment. "Bullshit. Tough love and all that. A few good orgasms and she'll follow you around like a puppy."

"If that's so, why don't you give her the orgasms?" Jeff said, about half meaning it; frustrated.

"Uh uh. No way. I'm not having your Queen after my ass. I'm just saying you're nuts. That is one beautiful woman. She, Diana and Arlene: three generations. And she damn sure doesn't look like any grandmother I've ever seen, and that was before Little One got to her. No wonder she wants to be called Meemi instead of grandma, or some such. In any case, you know you're going to take her sooner or later, anyway. I just think..."

"Alright, alright, enough about my future demise. Now what's this about needing advice?"

Dave flinched. Taking a long pull on his soft drink, he stared at a wall-mounted picture of the snow-covered retreat, his mood plummeting. "Ol' Buddy," he sighed, "I have a problem. I brought it on myself, though, but unfortunately, it's time to ... pay up, I guess you could say."

"Dave, if you need money, you know damn well you have it, no matter how much..."

"Thanks Jeff. I know, but it's not money — it's love. Love got me into this, and love is what's making it hurt so damn bad."

"Maybe you need to start at the beginning."

Dave took another sip of his drink, then sighing, "Oh, you know about it. Remember, there was a stipulation when Linda married me. Jill was gone, and during the year or so before they came here, Linda and Bill became much closer than father and daughter — well at least in a different way. Linda fell deeply in love with him; not just a daughter's love for her parent, either. He resisted and wouldn't take her cherry. She got him to agree, though, and then got me to agree that they would spend a night together during the first month of our marriage, but she was going to save her virginity for me, and did."

Dave took a bite of fudge, offering the plate to Jeff. When Jeff took a couple pieces, Dave put the plate back on the coffee table.

"So now, she's brought it up again?" Jeff asked, taking a bite.

"Yep, she says tonight is the night. She's already talked to Kathy and Jill about it of course. They're all for it. I did agree before we were married, but I was hoping she would forget about it — or just let it go — after we were married."

"But ... she didn't?"

Dave sighed out, "No."

"And Evie and Kim? What does Evie say?"

"They're for it, like I said. And when I tried to discuss it with Evie, she just took my face in her hands and kissed me, then told me she loved me. Just as she turned to walk away, she turned back, grabbed my face again and told me that Linda loves me too."

"That's it? No advice?"

"That's it. They won't even discuss it with me."

"And have you tried to talk to Linda about it? Told her how you feel?"

"Shit, no," Dave said, fidgeting.

"Why?"

"Because ... well, hell, because I agreed to it before we were married."

There was a hesitation, then, "You got any popcorn?" Jeff asked.

"Popcorn? What the crap has popcorn got to do with it?" Dave snapped, exasperation showing in his voice.

Jeff, halfway out of his seat, affected an air of innocence. "Oh, I thought we were through with the conversation. You said that you..."

" ... agreed to it," Dave finished for him, with resignation.

"Yep. You're an Alpha, and you gave your word. Now where's the popcorn." But even though Jeff's words were light, he knew how much Dave was hurting.

Dave looked at his Prime and thought: I made her a promise. I was afraid she wouldn't marry me unless I did. Now I'm acting like a wimp. I won't whine in front of my Prime, though. Oh, shit, this is going to hurt me like hell, but I told her I agreed. I need to go kiss her and hold her in my arms. I'm the only one she's ever had. That won't be true in the morning. It makes me sick to know another man is going to push his cock into her — pump his sperm into her. But I love her with all my heart. Bill is a brother Alpha and I really like him; respect him. Oh, shit. How did I get into this?

Dave frowned, shrugged and followed his Prime into the kitchen. "Top cabinet on the right," he said, but it was hard to keep the tension out of his voice.

-------

Diana caught up to her husband as he walked down the hall. "So, let's go see what we bought," she said as she hugged herself to him.

"Who all wants to go?"

"Everybody."

Jeff smiled down at her. "About what I thought. Dave and Evie went over to see if they can get some heat going, at least in the office area. The power hasn't been turned back on, though, but they took a big generator to see if they could get it stubbed into the electrical system. You might tell everybody to wear warm clothing. Even if they can get the heat working on parts of the building, it will take a while to warm up."

"They're getting dressed now."

Jeff hugged her tightly to him as they turned toward the inside garage. "Evie took the snowplow. I made a pass up and down the road last night when Whitworth and I went up to look at the place. She said she would plow out the parking lot before she helped Dave get things started."

"How many people can we expect for the General's security force?"

"I don't know, but I can guess a bit from what he told me of the mission requirements, which are counter-surveillance and security. Their needs aren't always ours. We want to stop surveillance, but they need to trace it, and so must cover a much wider area than we do. The lodge will be the hub of some pretty sophisticated stuff, but the counter-surveillance staff here should be pretty small because most of what techs do can be done elsewhere. Installing everything will require some manpower for a while, though.

"Security will be a bigger issue, and he's already warned me that we won't be able to just up and leave the Retreat when we feel like it. We'll have to give them some warning, and wait for their teams to get down the road before we leave. That might require a fair number of people. I guess I should have anticipated that.

"I was just relying — hoping — no one knew about Little One, or anything about the base and project. What we have would have alerted us to Hagewood's presence. But, hell, maybe the General is right. Maybe he does have a leak at the base and we do need to prepare for the worst. He thinks I'm more vulnerable to an attack on my wives than one specifically directed at me."

They got in an Escalade, raised the garage door, started the vehicle and waited for the others. "Jeff, this scares me. How did our life become so complicated?"

Jeff let out a sigh, knowing how she felt. "Baby, I've..."

Diana interrupted with, "It's hard to think of my husband traipsing about other planets, fighting for his life..."

"Oh, now that's being a little overly dramatic, isn't it? And what about this 'other planets' thing?"

Both had been sitting in the Escalade, looking toward the door where they knew Jeff's wives would soon be coming through. Diana snapped around to face her husband. "Jeff Matthews, remember what I said about lying to me."

"Di, I..."

"The General and I had a long talk, remember?"

"He told you?"

"Well, I'm sure he didn't tell me everything, but he gave me a summary of your, uh ... shall we say, career with him," she said, feeling her nipples pop as she thought about what his career entailed. "Didn't take him long to snatch you out of the army, did it? Practically right out of basic training, huh?"

"Diana, it's hard to believe that he told you. I..."

Diana chuckled. "Something about me being your Queen. And it might have had a bit to do with your healing Barbara, too. He said, with your and our permission, he would put in blocks so that we would not be able to tell anyone outside the family. I told him that Laura and I had pushed you into being sick with our questioning, but you still would not tell. I also told him I would accept the block and would ask my sister-wives to do so as well."

Jeff just sat and stared at her.

"I want to see that ship so bad I can taste it. And I would love to see that mountain hangar or warehouse or whatever it is where you found the ship, and ... where you almost died."

Jeff broke in with, "That's not going to happen. Whitworth wouldn't allow it, and I'm damn sure not going to let you go there and be a target for those ... aliens."

"Uh, well, I owe your sergeant a hug for thinking about the healing tank on the ship, and ... a very sincere thank you. Putting together what that thing was without seeing it in operation was a stroke of genius — genius that saved my husband's life."

"Di, I don't know what to say."

"Then just kiss and hug me. It's taking everything I have to keep from jumping your bones again. I'm sooo proud of you, and sooo horny I can't stand it! You're going to go down in history as the greatest hero since Ulysses. The first human to command a starship. The first to communicate with an alien race. Kayla is the only one I can talk to about this besides you. I can't wait for the blocks to go into our other wives so you can tell us all about it — I'll hold the General to his promise about that. Here they come."

The door opened and Jeff's wives, along with Susan, Kayla and the girls, streamed down the steps, all dressed in warm clothing and bundled in their heavy coats. Splitting up, they headed for vehicles.

-------

Shortly, they were all standing in the office/check in area of the ski lodge. "We have power to the office here," Dave said, "plus the hall lights to the left side of the building on both floors — the undamaged side," he said, pointing. "The generator isn't big enough to power everything so when you leave an area, turn the lights off behind you. Whoever the electrician was that wired this place labeled the main box well, so it was no real problem to put power to just this side."

"The computer booted up just fine," Laura called out from behind the front desk. "Did they give you the password?" she asked her husband.

Jeff shrugged. "No. I asked, but the creditor's guy said he didn't have anything concerning the computer system."

"No matter," Laura answered, distractedly. "I have a program with me that will find it."

"What do we need their program working for?" Melissa asked, but then quickly answered herself. "Oh, key cards to get into the rooms."

"I'm in their program," Laura announced a few minutes later. "Now to figure out how to make a master..."

"There," Ann, who was standing beside her mother, said pointing to the screen.

A little later, Jeff got their attention. "I don't want anyone going into the right side of the building. It's obvious where the rock came through, but it or the tree may have caused structural damage to any or all of that area and it might not be as obvious as where the rock tore through the building. We'll stay out of that side until Dave or Evie says it's safe."

Jeff's younger wives, with the new girls in tow, were soon off exploring. Jeff found a room where the maids stored their cleaning supplies, and dug out a vacuum cleaner, paper towels, furniture polish and glass cleaner. While Laura and Ann busied themselves learning about the computer system, Jeff, Diana, Helen and Kayla set about cleaning the accumulated dust from the check-in area.

Evie walked in and stopped to look. Diana and Kayla were wiping down the big check-in counter and furniture. Helen had found a window squeegee and was washing the inside of the windows on the front of the big room. Jeff was running the vacuum cleaner. "You guys don't have to do that, the crew will clean the place up. Besides that, isn't this going to be where the security force lives?"

Jeff, who had already shut the vacuum cleaner off so he could hear Evie, grinned at her and chuckled. "Bunch of men living together will trash the place, right?"

"Well, I didn't exactly mean..."

"One thing you can bet on. They won't all be men, but even if they were, when they leave this place it will be spotless. Security can be damned boring, and their commanding officer will make sure they have enough to do so they sleep well off-shift. The way the lodge is situated, it's virtually invisible to anyone not flying directly over it in a helicopter. They'll have plenty of area to train in, both inside and outside."

"So why are you cleaning it then?" Evie laughed.

"Because we own it," Diana laughed back. "Because we own it."

-------

After spending a couple hours with a preliminary cleaning and exploring of the lodge, they locked up and went back to the retreat, everyone happy, joking and cutting up. Alesha and Caitlin came in at almost the same time, followed a few minutes later by Whitworth and his two wives.

Alesha, having told them Jesse only had to work one shift today, quickly changed and ran out the back to meet him as he pulled up in his dad's truck.

"That girl is in love," Diana said as they stood in the kitchen watching the monitor when Alesha got into Jesse's vehicle. "She just hasn't admitted it to herself yet. She's ... been bitten twice already as young as she is, so there's no wonder she's a little reluctant. But even though she says they aren't having sex, they can't seem to be away from each other."

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA, ROOM 331

The night shift nurse had come on duty at 6:30 P.M., spent fifteen minutes in report being brought up to date about her patients from the day shift nurse, then, her curiosity piqued, she headed straight for 331. The patient who had come in here yesterday morning barely past comatose, was now sitting up in bed. Well, not on her own, but one of the women, Carla, if she remembered the name correctly, was holding a straw to the patient's mouth. The patient's attempts to pull the liquid out of the cup were clumsy at best, but she was trying.

Carla glanced over at the nurse as she began to assess her patient. "We're getting there," Carla said. "She's doing great with the pureed food, but she has a way to go with drinking through a straw yet."

The nurse brought her ID badge near the sensor so the computer would allow her on the system. Smiling, she said, "Still, there's a remarkable difference from last night. It's almost impossible to believe. You have no idea how remarkable this is."

After she entered the patient's assessment and vitals into the computer, the nurse turned back to Carla. "Did Mr. Wilson finally give up and get some rest?"

"Yeah, he and Jessica went back to the RV for a few hours uninterrupted sleep. You can bet he's sleeping with his cell phone on his chest though. Oh, while I'm thinking about it, do you know if there's a campground around with facilities for RVs? We've been showering here since we got the room, but we still need to empty the RV's tanks and restock with water."

"The only one I know of is about ten miles down the highway south of here. You can't miss it."

"That's great. Thank you. I'll go visit them tomorrow."

"Has she said anything or opened her eyes?"

Carla looked at Brenda. "No, but she's moving her hands and feet a little bit — just jerky movements, though."

"You realize how unusual this is. She was..."

"Brain dead. Yeah, we know. Fred says she'll come back — all the way. He's not wrong much."

The nurse looked at Carla and smiled. But will she be normal mentally, even if she regains the use of her body? she thought as she straightened up the bed and left.

-------

THE RETREAT

Jill ushered Dave into the sitting room of their suite.

"Would you like something to drink?" Kathy asked.

Before he could sit, Jill reached up and pulled Dave's face down for a short kiss on his mouth. Kathy quickly followed suit, then the two women left. A startled Dave sat gingerly on the couch to stare at Bill who was staring back, an inscrutable look on his face.

"You as fucked up about this as I am?" Bill asked into the silence.

"What? Uh..." That wasn't what he expected Bill to say. Then again, he had no idea what Bill would say, anyway.

Bill took a sip of his coffee. "Sure you don't want a cup of this. Jill just made it."

Oh, fuck. I don't even know why I'm here. "Uh, yeah. It does sound good, after all. We've just been down, uh up, to look at the ski lodge Jeff bought."

Bill got up, took a cup out of the small cabinet and poured coffee for Dave, then handed the cup to his friend.

"I got a short visit to the place a while back, compliments of our hosts. But Diana and Jeff were ... shall we say, giving me a lecture at the time, and I paid little attention to the building," Bill said, remembering the discussion about Alphas.

Dave took the proffered cup of coffee and thanked the pilot. "Well the reception area and the stairs that go up to the second floor are fairly elegant for a ski lodge. Of course, Jeff bought it to house a security team, and well, I guess mostly, to keep someone from reopening it as a ski lodge with all the resulting traffic up our little road."

Bill frowned for a second. "Our wives have apparently been in conference about this security thing. I knew about this Hagewood guy, but I just thought he was someone who was pissed off at Jeff for whipping his ass. But there's more to this, isn't there? And it seems to coincide with the General's arrival."

Dave remembered his coffee and took a sip. "Well, I don't know much about it and I think it would be better if I let Jeff explain. Hell, I basically only know that General Whitworth is going to provide a security team who will be housed in the ski lodge. I've had my mind on other things, I guess."

"Yes, and to put it bluntly, I imagine that top of that list is my fucking your wife," Bill said.



-------

Chapter 63

..."Yes, and to put it bluntly, I imagine that top of that list is my fucking your wife," Bill said.

Dave cleared his throat. "Well, now that you've put it so, uh... delicately. Yeah. I, uh ... I came over to talk about it. Oh, don't get me wrong. I didn't come here..."

" ... To ask me not to do it. But it was just..." Bill chuckled, "Hell, I don't know what to call it, maybe just good manners for us to sit down and chat like grown men — and Alphas."

Dave took a gulp of the hot coffee, not the best idea he had lately, he thought as he burned his tongue, but maybe better than the one about coming over to talk to Bill. Shit, this is awkward. Finally Dave chuckled too. "Well, I guess that's better than trying to ignore that fucking pink elephant that is always going to be in the room when we're together if we don't get this straightened out. I'm just..."

"Hurting like I was when you picked her up and went through that doorway on your wedding night," Bill finished. "You see, I had fallen in love with my daughter, too. Not just father/daughter love, but love between a man and a woman."

"Oh ... oh shit," Dave said. "I guess I didn't think too much about how you felt on our wedding night. I ... think I know now, though. Really know."

Bill let out a tense breath. "So what the fuck are we going to do? Linda is adamant about this. And for your information, I've already tried to talk her out of it — really tried, but my daughter, your wife, got very upset. And in case you haven't discovered it yet, your wives and my wives are in on this. I'm not exactly sure what they came up with, but they've all been talking and I don't mean just today, either. Apparently they have been planning this practically since the wedding."

"I spoke to Jeff, uh, my Prime about it..." Dave started.

"And what did our Prime have to say about it?"

"Uh, basically, I was an Alpha and had given my word. To suck it up and get on with my life. Not in those words, of course, but..."

"I gave my word to Linda, too. And just so you know, that's basically what Jeff told me, too."

"He what? I mean, you asked him, too?"

Bill put his empty cup down on the coffee table, then while still bending forward, looked over at the man sitting opposite him. "What? Do you think I would fuck a brother Alpha's wife without trying to find some way out of it? I love Linda, and yes, I desperately want to make love to her, but I don't want to castrate you in the process. But I did promise her. And just in case you haven't noticed, she can be very persuasive, plus at the time, I didn't want to upset her any more than she already was. She had lost her mother and all. We had no idea that Jill would be rescued, or that she even wanted to be rescued, so I finally agreed with my daughter. I still don't know how I could have done anything differently. Sometimes women..."

"Yeah, I know," Dave chuckled. "I have three of my own, and one of them is the same one you're talking about."

Bill sat back, puffing out a sigh. "I would suggest we get shitfaced, but I don't think any of our wives would appreciate that tonight. If it will make it any easier on you, Linda talked to me a few minutes ago. And no, she isn't going to back down on this, but she made it clear — emphatically clear — that she loves you beyond words and that this is a onetime thing. And don't even think that once it's done, it will be easier the next time. I give you my word, this will be just us consummating what we felt for each other while her mother was off ... fucking Ingles ... and making love with Linda tonight will be a the only time it happens — ever. And yeah, I know. Well ... I now know that Jill was hypnotized, but remember, I didn't know that then. According to Linda, we have ... unfinished business. But you remember this, Dave," Bill said as he met his fellow Alpha's eyes, "I love her just as much as you do. Tonight will be me — the rest of your lives will be you. Oh, I'll hug her, and kiss her, from now on, but the kisses will be father/daughter. I won't kiss her as a lover again — just tonight."

Dave could see the sheen of unshed tears in Bills eyes, could feel his sincerity. The alphas stood and shook hands, then clutched the other's forearms with their free hands for a moment before Dave walked out the door, his vision just a little blurred, too. Dave didn't like what was going on, but he had agreed to it because he had wanted Linda for his wife. Suck it up and act like a man. No, as Jeff would put it: act like an Alpha. Shit! I damn sure don't have to like it, though, but I'm not going to mess it up for Linda. Shit. Shit. Shit!

-------

Jeff's wives, including Kayla, stood in a group hug with Dave's and Bill's wives as the focal point of the group. They had an unusual addition to their gathering, though. Little One sat in plain sight on Diana's right shoulder. Diana couldn't understand her, but she could feel a sort of surreal presence that emanated love and other emotions that were too vague for Diana to fully interpret.

The women, minus the new girls and Susan, had been closely watching the two husbands, and knew that Dave had gone to see Bill. In an alcove nearby, out of sight, they had awaited the outcome of the meeting.

"And we have liftoff," Diana joked, referring to the two men who had just shook hands. The trust of the wives for Diana was such that no one thought to question her comment, or question what she had based her comment on; they just knew that everything was all right between the men. Diana briefly kissed Kim on the lips, then Evie. Staring at her sister-Queen, "Now I strongly suggest that you two fuck Dave's brains out tonight. Don't let him start thinking about things. And Evie, I also suggest you feed him every drop of your milk you can produce while Linda is with Bill." With that comment, she put Little One on Evie's shoulder, then guided Evie to a seat. "Jeff has prompted her to do this, and I imagine by the time you go to bed, you will have plenty of milk. Feed it to your man." Turning slightly to face her, "And Kim, I expect you to be walking funny in the morning. My husband jokes about a person being able to be depressed before an orgasm and after an orgasm, but it is impossible for a person to be depressed during an orgasm. Dave is a fully enhanced Alpha. When his cock goes down — if it does — get him up again. You two fuck him until he's exhausted, then wake him up with a blowjob and do it some more," she said as she looked at the two women. "He'll know what you are trying to do, but don't you let him tell you no."

Kim chuckled a bit self-consciously, but grinned back at Diana.

"I'm feeling guilty about this," Linda broke in.

Diana turned and took Linda in her arms for a moment, then pulled back to look her in the face. "This will work, but when you come out of that honeymoon suite in the morning, you find your husband, sit in his lap with your breasts pushed into his chest, and kiss him. You kiss him until he knows you're his. And about feeling guilty: we all know this has to be, even Dave does. The men have made peace now, but we're going to make it as easy on Dave as we can. Besides, they're Alphas and they have a way of surprising us." She briefly kissed Linda on the lips, then spoke to everyone. "I'll stay with Evie until Little One is done, but before you leave, I want everyone to tell Little One how much we appreciate her for helping us with this."

Each woman took her turn to put a hand on Little One and tell her thank you. Jeff would later tell Diana that Little One understood little of what they said, but had understood their obvious good will toward her, and of course, she understood that she was to enhance Evie's ability to lactate.

Diana stopped Kathy and Jill for a moment after they left Little One. "I know I don't have to say it, but I'm going to, anyway. First thing after they leave the honeymoon suite, make sure your man knows you love him. Nothing is going to be accomplished with either of them feeling guilty about this."

The women hugged, and shortly everyone had left except Diana and Evie. Evie relaxed into the seat and the blue beams came on. Diana pulled another seat near to watch over the little Queen while Little One worked.

Fifteen minutes later, Evie awoke with her breasts tingling.

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA

Doctor Harris quietly pushed the door open a little and looked in. Audrey noticed and said, "Come on in, Doctor."

Fred was sitting by the bed with his hand under the sheet, holding one of Brenda's hands while Carla did the same from the other side. "Come on in Doc. We thought you would have given it up by now and gone home."

Doctor Harris chuckled as he walked on in. "Nothing much for a bachelor to do by himself at home on a Friday night. I'm not into the bar scene, so I thought I would stop by and check on my miracle lady."

Jessica moved a chair over for him. "We have some ice there in the pitcher and plenty of drinks. Would you like one?"

Sitting down, "Well, I..."

"Diet Coke, or diet Dr Pepper?"

Harris chuckled. "I'll have the Coke."

Soft drink in hand, he looked more closely at his patient. "I see that her eyes are partially open now. Has she said whether she can see anything? Oh, crap. I can't believe I even said that, but she read my code. I can't conceive of a way you could have determined what I sent unless she told you."

"She says she can see light, but that's about all. She swallows the soft food pretty well, and she's getting better with drinking from a straw. There are jerky, random movements of her feet and arms. Just very small movements, though."

Fred seemed preoccupied for a moment, then, "Doctor, I want to show you something, but first I want you to tell me some things."

"If I can."

"I would like for you to describe Ms. Gordon's arms when she first came into the ICU."

Doctor Harris automatically looked toward her arms, but the sheet covered them. "She, uh, Ms. Gordon was obviously a drug addict. She had, what is commonly referred to as needle tracks on both arms, but mainly the left."

"And how long would that scarring last?" Fred said.

"Oh, well, some of it would probably fade over the years, but I doubt if the scarring would ever totally go away."

"I remember the nurse taking pictures of Ms. Gordon's arms," Fred said.

Harris thought for a moment, "You're obviously trying to tell me something." He got up and approached the computer, holding his badge close to the sensor. "Just take me a moment."

After going through several menus, the doctor motioned to the screen, "Is this what you were referring to?"

The picture on the screen showed Pamela's left arm, disfigured with abuse from her injecting drugs hundreds of times with a needle.

As they all gathered around the wall-hung computer, Fred said, "So you're saying that the scarring would be there, basically, for life?"

Harris turned to Fred. "What are you implying, Mr. Wilson?"

Fred turned back to the bed and pulled the sheet down to Brenda's waist, then gently lifted her left arm a little. "Just this."

Harris stood stunned. "There's no..." He took Brenda's arm and carefully examined it, a look of almost shock on his face.

"The other arm is the same way. No scarring at all."

"She had a mole on her throat, but it's gone too," Carla added.

Harris turned back to the computer and brought up another picture. The mole was clearly visible.

"There isn't a blemish on her body," Carla said. "Nothing anywhere."

Harris again ran his hand up and down Brenda's arm. "This is ... amazing. I've never heard of..."

Fred looked the doctor hard in the eye. "This is no longer Pamela Gordon in any fashion. Now do you see why I think — we think — that Brenda will gain the full use of this body and that she won't be mentally impaired in any way?"

Harris slumped back down into his chair. "Do you people mind if a bewildered doctor just sits and stares at a miracle for a while?"

Carla chuckled as she reseated herself, too. "Join the crowd, Doctor."

-------

THE RETREAT, 8:00 P.M.

Everyone at the retreat watched as Bill, dressed in a nice suit, and Linda in a light blue evening dress, stood near the door of the honeymoon suite.

Dave gently disengaged from his wives, who were snuggled to his sides, and walked the short distance to Bill and Linda. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as Dave approached the couple. Leaning slightly forward, he cupped a hand under Linda's chin, lifting her face. Briefly touching his lips to hers, he whispered, "I love you. Bill loves you. Make me proud."

Turning away before his voice broke, he walked back to Evie and Kim, put his arms around them and without looking back, urged them toward their apartment.

Bill picked Linda up, pushed the suite door the rest of the way open with his foot and took her inside, the door closing behind them.

As each family went its own way, Helen quietly said, "I feel sorry for Dave."

Laura looked over at her. "Me too. I wish Linda had backed down on this..."

"But I know how she feels," Arlene said. "She's in love with her dad, and she can't have him like I can mine. This one night is all she could get."

"But if it causes strife..." Laura worried.

"It won't," Jeff broke in. "It won't. They're Alphas. They met about this and agreed, plus, they're family. They're both doing this because they love Linda. It will work out."

"We share you without any problems, why can't Bill and Dave share her for one night?" Caitlin said, but the words were hardly out of her mouth when she wondered if she had really screwed up. Her words sounded wrong, even to her.

"Because they're men," Diana said. "The male ego and pride won't let them, and ... I wouldn't want it to. I, and we,  belong to our Prime. We belong to no other man. We're his. That's the way it should be. I wouldn't respect him if it were any other way. The fact he is a Prime only makes it doubly true. No Alpha would normally share his women. Dave is hurting right now and is only doing this because he loves Linda so much. She's young and has much to learn, and ... she's walking a tightrope with this. But we are all going to support her and her two men in this. We've done all we can. It's up to Bill now," she mysteriously finished.

They had kept nothing from the new girls — after all, they were family — but now Diana pulled them into a group hug. "We still have a lot to tell you about our family, and you haven't lived with us long enough to fully understand some of the things that are going on."

Nat, Nicki, and Whitney hugged her back, their eyes big.

-------

Bill put Linda down inside the sitting room, then leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Want something to drink?"

"Afterwards. Right now, I want to make love to you. So pick me back up and carry me into the bedroom; I'm your woman for the night."

Bill smiled and picked her up. In the bedroom, he gently laid her on the bed, but her arms locked around his head, gently pulling his face down to hers. Their kiss was gentle, and his back was complaining about leaning at that angle before she took her mouth away from his.

Bill stood looking down at his daughter for a moment. "You're beautiful, you know."

"I'm pretty. Mom is the one who is beautiful."

Bill undid his tie and tossed it over a chair back. "No, Punkin. Your mother is glamorous. She has a beauty that is almost unnatural. And yeah, you're pretty, but you're also beautiful. Dave is a lucky man."

"Probably doesn't feel so lucky right now, though," she said, sitting up.

Bill sat on the bed beside her. "You really sure you want to go through with this? We could stop right where we are."

Linda grabbed his face and kissed him hard for a second. "No. I want you. I dreamed of making love to my daddy, then after Mother started acting like she did, the dream became stronger, almost within my grasp. I cooked, cleaned, and washed your clothes. I sat in your lap and snuggled with you. We were all but husband and wife. When you were gone, I dreamed of you and held my pillow pretending it was you."

"And if we hurt Dave so much he never gets over this..."

"We won't. I know he isn't too pleased right now, but I'll make it up to him. I explained how I feel about you; how we almost made love more than once. Evie and Kim are going to make love to him all night. They promised me they would. I'll get on my knees and beg his forgiveness when we leave here in the morning, but I have to make love with you. Please don't spoil it for me."

Linda looked back up at him and smiled, the smile touching a little on the mischievous. "Why don't you undress for me? I've seen you nude that one time, but I want to watch you undress."

"I'm not going to..."

"Oh, I don't mean a striptease," she giggled. "I just want to watch you take your clothes off."

"After I do you," he said, gently pushing her back down on the bed. He kissed her mouth, his tongue teasing her lips, then undressed her — his actions efficient, but not overly hurried. When she lay before him nude, he kissed her lips, then licked each nipple.

Standing up again, he quickly stripped, his cock rampant before him. "Different from Dave's?" he asked as he stood looking down at her.

"Different, but the same," she said, her hand reaching for him. Before he quite realized what she intended, she pulled him toward her to kneel by her head. Her mouth slid over the head of his cock, her tongue cupping, her mouth sucking.

"Looks like Dave has been teaching you," he gasped out. The sight and feel of his daughter's mouth on his cock almost making him lose it. Putting a knee over her head, he positioned himself so that he could reach her pussy while she sucked his cock. He flicked his tongue across her clit. Apparently she was expecting him to do something other than that; to build her toward clitoral contact. Obviously, it surprised her, and she hissed in a breath, momentarily clamping down with her mouth, her teeth suddenly becoming uncomfortable. She mumbled something that might have been, "Sorry," before she resumed sucking.

Now he took his time as he swiped the tip of his tongue along first one lip, then the other of her pussy. His hands sliding under her upper thighs, he rotated her bottom upward a little, giving him better access. She smelled wonderful — woman, but a hint of girl, still. He lost himself in the process of making love to his daughter, his concentration absolute. He hadn't realized that she was even near; had no idea how long they had been loving each other. She tucked her feet back close to her hips to give her leverage to push up at him. Suddenly, she raised her ass clear of the bed as her orgasm hit, her whole body violently trembling, her scream loud despite his cock filling her mouth.

He never knew what set him off — maybe it was a combination of things. Whatever, it was, his balls suddenly tightened against the base of his dick, then erupted their load. He vaguely heard his daughter give a little choking cough, then her sucking intensified. His cock jerked several more times as she seemed to want to suck out everything he had. He stabbed his tongue in her opening for a second, then locked his lips around her clit and thrashed it with his tongue while sucking hard. Linda screamed around his cock, thrashed and became still. Gasping, summoning strength, he managed to fall onto the bed beside her.

Rising up a little, he checked on her. Her face is slack; she's out, or at least has her eyes closed, but she's breathing fine. He collapsed back on the bed. I expected it to be intense, but it was way beyond that. Shit, how in the world am I going to survive this night and keep my dick out of her pussy? Dave, damn you, I wish you weren't an Alpha — and my friend.

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA

The night shift nurse walked into the room to find Fred sitting by the bed. "Sir, I know it's late but there's a Lieutenant Dodson in the hall. He wouldn't come in the room until you gave your permission because of the hour, but he said that he would like to talk to you."

"Tell him I'll be right there, please."

As soon as the nurse left, Fred said aloud so Audrey could hear as he mentally spoke to Brenda. "I'm going to talk to someone in the hall for a few minutes. Audrey is going to hold your hand while I'm gone."

"Okay. But hurry back. It's better now that I can feel my hands — and your hand holding mine. Tell Audrey thank you for me."

Fred did so, and Audrey slid her chair close so she could hold Brenda's hand while he was gone.

In the hallway, Dodson introduced himself, then, "Sir, I've come to apologize for any concerns or problems that I may have caused. I never expected what I did would produce an avalanche of calls, and well, something else came up because of what I started. Reckon we can go sit in the cafeteria and talk about it?"

At Fred's raised eyebrow, "Uh, Sir, it's about Doc and his ex-wife. He's a really good friend..."

Fred interrupted. "Let me tell Audrey where we'll be."

A few minutes later, machine-dispensed coffee on the table between them, (the cafeteria was closed due to the hour, so they had to get their drinks from the vending machine) the men sat looking at each other, the detective obviously uncomfortable.

Fred picked up his coffee and took a sip. He frowned, then chuckled, "I know it came out of a vending machine, but how in the heck do they manage to make coffee this bad?"

Dodson responded with a chuckle. It was obvious that he wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

Fred put the cup back on the table. "Son, if you made it to detective lieutenant, I can't believe that you're bashful, so whatever it is must be personal. Best just say it."

Dodson looked Fred in the eye. "Ah, shit, like I said, it has nothing to do with the department. It's about Doc." Dodson went on to briefly outline what had happened with Doctor Harris coming home and catching his wife fucking some guy. Then, "I called your friend, Mark, back and asked him to check on Doc's wife for me. Turns out she is friends with a female nurse that Mark knows pretty well. Well, after a whole lot of talking through intermediaries, I finally got to talk with Betty Harris. To make a long story a little shorter, she's been seeing some sort of professional about what happened, and he has hypnotized her. According to her, this guy thinks she was drugged. Apparently, she has very little memory of the incident until just prior to Doc coming home.

"Crap, Sir. I really think they both overreacted. She packed up some of her stuff and left before Doc got home from having his hand put in a cast at the hospital, and of course Doc beat the shit out of the guy and didn't want to talk to her. Apparently, they never made any real contact with each other. He had a lawyer make out the divorce papers, and sent them to the address the detective agency found for him. She signed them and sent them back. The nurse friend of hers says that Betty is staying in a furnished apartment close to the hospital and living like a hermit. She never cashed the check Doc sent her for her half of the marriage. Doc is fucked up, and has been since that night."

"And..." Fred coached.

Dodson took a drink of his coffee, hardly noticing the taste. "Oh, shit, the more I think about this idea, the crazier it seems, but Doc has talked to me about you." At the change in Fred's expression, Dodson quickly went on, "Oh, he told me he had made you a promise, and he dances around some of the questions I ask, but the bottom line is that he's ... impressed with you — I guess you could say. Uh, Mark says you have a talent. You can tell when someone is lying. Well, actually Mark says you're a quote, 'fucking walking lie detector that never misses, ' end quote."

Fred shrugged, "And..."

"This psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, or whatever the fuck he is, thinks she was drugged. If I can get her to tell you the story and you say she's telling the truth, I think, hell, I know I can get Doc to listen to her."

Fred sat looking at him.

Dodson widened his hands a little in a gesture of exasperation, "Shit, I know how it sounds, but damnit, I have to look at him as we sit in that boat and fish. When it gets quiet and your mind kinda drifts away and you can really enjoy life, I look over and see the pain on his face. I'm not going to toss my friend aside. I'm going to get those two back together if I have to hogtie them. I've tried to set him up with dates, but he comes up with more excuses than Carter has liver pills. If she's sitting in her apartment and moping over him, well ... I've even gotten my wife into this. You give me the word and my wife and I are going up to Atlanta and get her. We'll bring her down here and get you two together. If you tell me she's telling the truth, I'm going to get in Doc's face with it. That asshole drugging her makes it rape, Sir, as you damn well know. Doc sure as hell won't hold rape against her, not after he beat that turkey into a week's stay in the hospital."

"I thought doctors took some type of oath to protect life," Fred said.

Dodson sniggered. "Doc says that oath didn't include some guy fucking his wife in his bed." Grinning, he went on, "If she was drugged, it would explain why that asshole left and never even called his employer to quit. He figured the drugging would come out and he would be going up for rape. Doc's wife wouldn't talk to the deputy who answered the call. Turkey wasn't saying anything, so we just had Doc's version. Betty wants her husband back. Doc misses his wife, and I'm fucking tired of worrying about him. Harebrained as this scheme is, I think Doc just needs to know his wife didn't intentionally betray him, or at least he needs to be able to have that illusion. There's still the problem of how Shithead got the drug into her. Was she out with him? Shouldn't have been, if that's the case. She was a married woman. But there could well be an innocent answer to that. If she truly can't remember — and apparently the memory isn't there, even under hypnosis — it might never be answered."

There was silence while both men thought, then, "Ah, shit, Sir, will you help me?"

Fred put his hand across the table and shook with the lieutenant. "Get her down here, but make sure she understands what we're going to do. I don't want to have to try and convince her to tell me the story. And tell her that she will have to tell me everything she can remember — everything. If she tries to hide anything from me, I'll know. I have no patience with people trying to cover up or lie to me. I'll fucking know. She needs to understand that before she ever starts in this direction."

"You've got it," Dodson said, standing. "And Sir, uh, I really appreciate this."

Fred stood and clapped Dodson on the shoulder with a big hand. "No big deal. Now I need to get back upstairs."

"I'll call you when we get back. Uh, Sir, I guess it goes without saying..."

"Yeah, I know. Just get her here. I kinda like Doc myself."



-------

Chapter 64

SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 12, THE RETREAT

Linda and her father walked out of the honeymoon suite with her snuggled against him, her arm around his waist. A phone call had prompted Evie to have her husband and sister-wives waiting just down the hall. As the couple stopped, Linda turned into Bill, pulled his face down to hers and kissed him hard for a few seconds. After the kiss, he hugged her against him, his face buried in her hair.

"Thank you," they both said at the same time.

Linda looked up at him, "I'll never forget last night."

"Me either," Bill said, a catch in his voice.

One more light kiss and Linda turned away to walk briskly to her husband. Jill and Kathy grabbed Bill. Each kissed him, then the three stood watching Linda approach Dave.

Dave stood, his tension apparent, as Linda put her hand on his neck and tried to pull him down for a kiss. "I love you, My Husband. Bend down and kiss me while they can see. If Daddy thinks you're hurt by this, I'm going to be in big trouble. Now bend down, please."

Dave didn't quite know how to feel at the moment, but jealously was mixed in there somewhere — a good strong dose of it — despite how much he tried to hold it back. Being Dave, though, he bent to kiss this young woman he loved so dearly. Shortly, Linda broke the kiss. "Now, let's go back to the apartment. You and I need to talk."

"No, we need to go on to breakfast; need to act normally, else..."

Linda grabbed his cheek between thumb and finger, shaking it gently, something she did on occasion to tease her husband. "If we go in there right now, everyone will know something is wrong. I just spent the night with another man — my father. Now come on. Evie and Kim will bring our breakfast when they finish eating. Evie will tell them I'm making love to my husband. Now put your arm around me and let's go."

Dave thought for a second, realizing she was right, but instead of putting his arm around her and walking to the apartment like she asked, he picked her up, threw her unceremoniously over his shoulder and walked off. Feeling a need to, he glanced over his shoulder in time to see Bill turn toward him for a second and grin, then walk on. What Dave didn't see, though, was the hi-sign (A-ok) of thumb and forefinger forming a circle that a grinning Linda gave to her father while she hung over Dave's back.

"Take me on to the bedroom," Linda said as Dave opened the door to their apartment. A couple moments later, he gently sat her on the bed. Linda, dressed casually in a pullover top and jeans, quickly stripped them off, then pulled Dave down to lie beside her on the bed.

With their faces close together, she said, "As I told you, I dreamed of making love to my father since I ... heck as far back as I can remember..."

"Baby, you've told me all about that, and I guess I just don't really want to hear..."

"Hush, Husband," she said, touching her fingertip to his lips, then gently kissing him for a moment. "Just listen. I knew you were going to be hurt, but I had hoped it wouldn't be something that hurt you too badly. Then as the time neared, I became more concerned, but that was tempered with the time approaching where my dream would finally come true. I had gotten my dad to promise me — promise me. So he made love to me — practically all night, except for naps along the way."

"Linda, Baby, I agreed to this, but it still hurts just a little bit..."

"He made love to me. I didn't say exactly how. Dave, my beloved husband, Daddy didn't stick that beautiful cock of his into me. Yours is the only cock — and incidentally, just as beautiful — that has been in my pussy, and the only one that will ever be. I loved him last night, and he loved me, every way two people can without a cock going into a pussy. And before your mind goes in that direction, no, he didn't fuck me in the ass either," she giggled.

"But he promised you..."

" ... to make love to me for a whole night. And he did. Oh, trust me; he did. But he would not put his cock inside me. He said he couldn't do that to a brother Alpha — meaning you, of course. If it's any consolation to you, I think I would have stopped short of penetration, but I didn't have to make that decision. It was probably a couple hours into our night before we talked about it, but by then it was obvious that he wasn't going to. By then, I knew I wouldn't, as well."

Linda hugged her husband's head to her breasts. "I hope I haven't hurt you too badly. I had to do this. I don't think Daddy would have survived without us being so close while mother rubbed his nose in the things she was doing. Oh, we know now that it was that bastard, Ingles, who was making her do those things, but we didn't know that then. We almost had intercourse back at our old home, then again here at the retreat before you and I got married, but we didn't. Please don't be mad at me..."

By then, Dave had pulled his face back from her breasts and glued his mouth to those beautiful lips. One of her arms locked around his head while she reached down to fumble with his belt with the other hand. Between the two of them they managed to push his pants and undershorts down. Her first orgasm hit before Dave got his cock all the way in.

In the kitchen, Evie and Kim grabbed each other's hand as they sat side by side at the table. Faces flushed, trying to hide it, they shivered as a bemused Diana looked on from the other end of the table. "Liftoff," she mouthed when Evie recovered enough to look at her. It wasn't a question.

-------

Diana sat in Susan's suite, each woman with a soft drink in hand. "So you expect me to let this general of Jeff's put this block, or whatever it is, in my mind..."

"No, Mother. I guess not. I guess I expect you to be a bitch just because my husband is involved," she almost snarled. "It's becoming a bit tiresome. If you want to truly be a part of this family, now's the time to get started on it. I no longer merely think Jeff is the greatest man who ever lived — I know he is. If you weren't too pig-headed to accept the block so that you could be told what he has done and what he truly is, things would go a lot smoother for you. Don't you get tired of being a bitch to Jeff? Without Jeff in the equation, you're nice to me and everyone else. If it involves my husband, you become a bitch. I'm telling you, Mom, he's ... Ah, crap. I can't tell you until the blocks are in. They won't hurt you. You just won't be able to talk about any of our secrets to anyone outside the family."

Diana set her drink down and stood. "I'm tired of begging you to be nice, Mom," Diana said, tears stinging her eyes. "If you want the best life you could ever dream of, then accept the blocks. If after I'm able to tell you about my husband, and the General confirms what I say, and you still feel the same way toward Jeff, I won't bug you any more about it."

"Are you going to force my new granddaughters to take these ... blocks."

Diana glared back at her mother. "We treat them and consider them adults. I'm going to talk to them right now. They will have the same choice you do. They will decide for themselves."

"They're young..."

"They're basically the same age as Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa. They're perfectly capable of making their own decisions," Diana snapped back, although she tried not to.

Susan stood, uncomfortable with what was going on between her daughter and herself, compounded by her own intentions to not do this thing. Surprising herself, Susan reached over to take her daughter's hand. "I'll do it. But if this..."

"It won't, and you won't regret it either. Mom, you're an intelligent woman. Unless you surprise me, you're going to look at my husband in a totally different light."

"Alright, alright, let's not get carried away with this. I've agreed to do it, but I'm positive you're wrong about my changing my mind about your ... husband."

Diana suddenly reached over and hugged her mother hard. Pulling back after a moment, she grinned at Susan. "Just wait till you spread your legs for him the first time. I swear I'm going to say, I told you so — when you regain consciousness, that is."

Susan had to smile at her daughter, despite herself. "Fat chance that will ever happen," she said. He may be God's gift to women as far as my daughter is concerned, but he'll never get between my legs. Even the idea is revolting,  she thought as she turned to leave.

-------

"We get to decide?" Nicki said.

"Well, sure you do."

"But we've never gotten to make any big decisions for ourselves. We would never have gone to that foster home if we had been allowed to decide. We didn't like that man and woman when we saw them at the orphanage," Nat chimed in.

"What do you want us to do?" Whitney asked.

Diana hesitated for a moment, then, "Well, obviously I want you to take the blocks so you will know the things I do, but I want each of you to decide for yourselves. You have the right to say no."

"We three have always looked out for each other. Only two of us are blood sisters, as you know, but all three of us are sisters regardless of that," Nicki said. "We all three stick together, no matter which way we decide."

The three girls looked at each other for a moment, then Whitney turned back to Diana. "We'll do it."

Diana grabbed them and hugged them tight. "Jeff will call for a family vote."

"So we don't tell him that we've..."

"I keep nothing from Jeff. He's my husband, my mate and my lover. And while we're on the subject, we need to talk about you three becoming wives. You've told me you love him. Are you really ready to become his wives?"

They blushed but quickly nodded their heads.

"The General has told me some things about my husband that I didn't know, and I'm dying to talk about them, but can't tell you until we've all been 'blocked, ' I guess the correct term is. I can tell you it changes everything, including changes that affect me. I've always thought he was the greatest man around, but now I know he is. You will too, shortly. We'll be able to tell you why I'm Jeff's Queen. As his Queen, it's one of my duties, and my desire, to expand his harem — his wives.

That got their attention.

"Yes, that means you. Oh, he's told me he loves the three of you, and I know you're desirable to him; I've watched him watching you. But with what I've recently learned about him, I'm ... almost compelled to expand his harem. I feel that it's my duty. Each of you would be suitable — you are sexy enough; yes you really are. I mean it. But there's more to this than my permission and your being sexy. You have a great deal to learn about everything. I'm the least educated of Jeff's older wives, and you've seen Helen giving me assignments. You'll finish high school with her, but it won't stop there. We'll all keep learning with Helen's guidance. Some of us will work with Jeff as lab assistants to help with his inventions. Yes, that means you along with all of us. But I'm sure some of us will also be caring for babies."

Consternation.

"We'll have those at some point too, and that is a full-time job. So you have all sorts of things to get ready for. All of you have a great deal of work to do. And fun, because Jeff is sooo darn reluctant to admit the obvious about you. So I want the three of you to go after him. Understand now, he won't favorably respond to blatant sexuality. That is to say that you can't just unzip his pants and suck his cock to get him to notice you. He'll probably wind up spanking you if you try. Any of us wives will certainly be welcomed if we do something like that, of course, but he'll immediately see through what you're trying to accomplish if you three try it. Be a little more subtle. Sit in his lap, kiss him gently on the mouth, push a boob against him from time to time. Talk to him; make him more aware of you. Tell him you love him. I want the three of you and Kayla married to him. A Prime of his stature should have more wives."

"A Prime?" Nat said.

"You'll understand more about a Prime after the blocks are done. Now, the three of you think about what I have said. I want you to be wives as soon as possible."

When Diana left their suite, the girls looked at each other. "What's gotten into her?" Nat said.

"I don't know," Whitney said. "But we all want to marry him, so what's the problem?"

Nicki giggled a little. "Did you see her nipples? They were almost poking holes in her top."

"Yeah, her face seemed ... flushed, or something. She's ... excited."

"You mean sexually excited, don't you?" Nat said.

"Yeah. Like that, I guess. She doesn't act like Diana. She's talked to us about eventually becoming his wives, but she's acting differently now."

"It's whatever she's found out about the Colonel, uh, I mean Jeff," Whitney said.

"I hope these block things don't hurt," Nat worried.

"Silly," Nicki laughed.

-------

The immediate family, including the new girls and Kayla, sat at the big table in the kitchen. Just as Jeff started, the door opened and Susan came in, a smirk on her face. "Uh, as I started to say," Jeff said, amazed that she showed up, "Dave's family has already voted yes; so has Bill's. Frank just stopped me in the hall and said that he and Margaret have agreed to the block, also."

Jeff went on to describe the procedure for setting up the block, giving as much detail as he was allowed to at this point.

"As most of us know, but for those who haven't been to a family meeting before, we generally vote on important matters that concern the whole family; thus the meeting today. I will emphasize that this is an all-or-nothing thing. We either all do it, or none of us do it. Any person here is just as important as the next person. With the blocks, I will be able to talk freely with you about the base and the things I have been involved in during the last few years. Some of you know about the healing and how it is done; others do not. But even so, there is a lot more that you will learn about that with the blocks in. Nicki, Nat and Whitney have been kind enough to cut us a number of small strips of paper to use with our voting. Just write yes or no on the scrap, fold it in half and drop it in my cap here. There are pencils on the table, and there is ample counter space here in the kitchen. Please scatter out enough so you can write your vote without anyone being able to read it as you do."

"Dad, we've always just voted with a nod, or a verbal no or yes."

"Yeah, I know, Sweetheart, but I was afraid someone would be swayed by peer pressure to vote a certain way. One no vote ends it. We're all in this together. No one will be asked what she voted, so vote the way you personally feel about the block."

An odd look came across Susan's face as Jeff mentioned that one no vote would stop the blocks for everyone. She absently accepted the scrap of paper from Nicki, found a place to write, then stopped to think. She was tempted to write a no just to see if he would keep his word, but realized that she knew him better than that. He impregnated my daughter at thirteen, and he's screwing my granddaughter, but, despite that, I know the asshole has integrity. Crap, he and Diana even sent all that money to me, even though I never used any of it. Ah, shit, I'm not going to screw it up for everyone else, besides ... my curiosity is up about what he has been doing that is such a big deal. Jotting down her vote, she strode purposely over to Jeff and dropped the paper in the cap. Just to piss him off and mislead him, she smirked at him. I bet you think you know how I voted — wrong, Big Boy. Fighting to keep her face straight, she resumed her seat to stare at Jeff, trying to make him uncomfortable.

As soon as all the votes were in the cap, Jeff began pulling them out one at a time and reading them aloud before dropping the scrap on the table. "Yes ... yes ... yes..." The nearer he got to the last scrap of paper, the more puzzled his voice sounded. Finally, the last one: "Yes..." Jeff's eyes snapped up and locked with Susan's. She winked at him. It was great seeing him flustered. "We have voted to accept the blocks. I'll, uh ... check with the General about when we're going to do this," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. Spoiling the effect for her, though, he mouthed, "Thank you."

-------

Jeff and the General sat in the living room near the fire, coffee and a snack nearby. "So, your wives are willing?"

Jeff sat back and put his feet up on the footrest. "We make major decisions involving the family with a vote. Everyone voted for the block; that includes everyone at the retreat except Alesha. She's just staying with us for a while. I expect she and a county deputy that we think the world of will be getting married soon. So her time with us is limited. So, yes, we are going to let you use the blocks. But we — you and I — need to be very clear about the restrictions..."

The General interrupted, "No restrictions between family members. You define who is family." After a pause, "I trust you completely. I strongly suspect you could have brought that ship back and taken the base if you wished — probably in minutes. You have proven your loyalty and integrity many times, and you proved it yet again when you brought the ship to me, not to mention all that money you brought back from the Ingles thing. In addition, after I've been here a while, I'm beginning to feel ... Oh, hell, I don't know what it is. I just fucking absolutely know I can trust you. I feel..."

"Like you're an Alpha," Jeff said, "because you are."

"I don't know about that. Hell, I'm not even sure what an Alpha is. I mean, I know what your Queen said, but..."

"I missed it to start with, but as my abilities increased, I could feel you were an Alpha. With us here together with you, shall we say, a bit away from your responsibilities at the base, it is a lot more evident, especially so now that you have been enhanced. Welcome to the family."

"Family?"

"Yep, Alphas are family, and by extension their wives."

" ... and you're my Prime," the General found himself saying. "Uh ... I'm not used to having too many bosses. And over the years, I've reduced those until I pretty much do as I please."

"I'm not your boss — just your Prime."

"Yeah, but I remember what happened in this very room when I decided to take you back to the base. That was a bit rough on a general's ego," he chuckled.

"Sorry about that. I should have handled it more diplomatically. And ... I'm new to this Prime thing, too. I keep trying to come up with a different explanation, but Little One insists that I'm one, and there is — or was — an obvious connection, or at least a parallel between our races. Think our race might have once been telepaths?" Jeff finished with a chuckle.

The General thought for a moment, taking Jeff's question seriously. "The best evidence of that is your daughter, as a child, knowing where you were all the time, not merely your wives as enhanced, but..."

"Remember, your wives will probably be able to do it one of these days. It's odd; the women don't seem to think much of it. It's almost as if they think it's ... natural. Like it's supposed to be that way. They should be excited about it or something, but they're not. It's like ho-hum, yeah, I know generally where my husband is all the time, so what?"

"So, do you think Alphas were telepaths once upon a time?" The General said with an air of jest, as he returned the question to Jeff.

"Little One says a Prime or an Alpha influences his females. I'm not exactly sure how. I know we do it with pheromones, of course, and I also know we can do something as we make love to our women and flip the orgasm switch, so to speak, but whether our race, or more accurately, our part of it, was telepathic, I can only guess. If we were, I don't think we were in the same way that the race who built the Healer is telepathic, but then again, I'm just guessing and could easily be wrong. I know we as Alphas are different, and Little One says our bodies will be changing for a considerable length of time as latent and atrophied abilities are awakened and enhanced by her. I do know that I trust my Alphas beyond what I ever would a normal man, and I think it's reciprocated."

"So where do we do this?" the General asked.

"Why don't you set up your equipment in the sitting room of your suite?"

As Whitworth stood, "Need I ask who is going to be first?"

Jeff chuckled. "Buzz me when you're ready. Diana and I will be right there. I told her ten minutes for each one, at least that's how long it originally took for me. Is that time still good?"

"Yeah, that's close enough."

"She'll have everyone staged and ready to go."

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA

Doctor Harris walked into room 331. The smell of breakfast permeated the air, reminding him that he had not yet eaten, even though it was getting on toward midmorning. A glance in the waste basket as he passed showed two take out Styrofoam boxes, and there were two more on the windowsill. Of more interest was yet another empty take out container, but this one was setting on the patient's table.

Anticipating, Fred spoke up. "Brenda got tired of that — whatever you call it, machine soft — food. Jessica and Audrey found a restaurant with a breakfast bar. Brenda had a taste for watermelon, so they brought her back scrambled eggs, bacon, toast with jelly, and about ten small chunks of watermelon," he finished, pushing the table back out of the way.

"You don't like the cafeteria here?" the doctor asked as he neared the bed.

"Didn't have watermelon."

"Oh." Harris was only partially paying attention to the conversation for he had just realized that the patient's eyes were open and those startling green orbs were tracking him with obvious intelligence. That's odd,  he thought. I seem to remember that when I checked her eyes with my light when she first came into the ICU, they were brown. I'm positive they were.

"Goo-d moo-rn-ing doc-tor," Brenda got out, her voice slurred and slow, but the words distinguishable, anyway.

"Oh, my," Harris said as he slid into an empty seat, fighting to keep his mouth from dropping open.

"I'm Bren-da Wil-son-n," she struggled to say, "so don't ca-ll me Pam-e-la."

"Uh, no Ma'am. I uh ... how do you feel?" he asked almost inanely, while desperately trying to keep the shock out of his voice.

"Tell him I said just great — when I can get this body to notice I'm in it," Brenda said through the link to her husband.

"She said she feels great, Doc."

"That's not what I said, and you know it."

"Uh, she also said that she was having trouble getting Pamela's body to notice she's in it," Fred amended.

Harris chuckled. "Sounds like she has a sense of humor, anyway. Uh, Mr. Wilson, I again spent several hours last night trying to find a documented case that even remotely resembles what has happened here. If there are any, I'm unable to find them. Unfortunately, I've come to the conclusion that even if there were several, it would be extremely difficult to prove, and even less likely that a doctor would stake his reputation, let alone his license by going public with the incident."

"So what are you going to do, Doctor?"

Harris hesitated a moment, crossed his legs, looked over at Fred and grinned. "Watch this lady's progress as much as my schedule and you will allow me to. Learn something, I hope."

"I wa-n't t-o ... ah crap," Brenda mumbled.

Then to Fred, "Tell him I want this damn urine catheter out. And as soon as I can get this body to cooperate enough so I can get on my feet, even a little bit, it's coming out — one way or the other."

When Fred relayed her thoughts, Doctor Harris chuckled. "I think that is a very good indication that our patient is getting better — much better."

"We've got tr-ip go on," Brenda got out a little better, though she skipped a few words since her speech was so slow.

Remembering what Fred had said about their trip, Harris smiled and said, "You keep progressing like you have in the last twenty-four hours and you will be on that trip before you know it."

"I like him," Carla said after the doctor had gone. "At least he has balls enough to say he knows nothing about what's going on, instead of feeding us a line of crap." Impulsively, she hugged Brenda. "We're going to make it, Sister. And when we get back, we'll make it sister-wife." Thinking a moment, "Well, I guess you're already a wife, but when we get back the rest of us want to be married at the retreat. Then we'll be sister-wives."

Brenda smiled back, although the smile drooped a little on one side.

-------

THE RETREAT

Evie and Kim came into the bedroom, Kim pushing a cart laden with breakfast food. Linda lay asleep nestled in Dave's arms, both nude, her swollen pussylips and the thick semen leaking out of her making it obvious what had happened during the last hour. Dave opened an eye and looked at them, then raised his head a little so they could see his smile.

"Looks like you two have made peace," Evie chuckled as Kim shook Linda awake. Linda giggled and buried her face in Dave's neck for a moment, then received kisses from both women. Evie motioned with her hand. "Lie on your back, Kiddo, and let us clean you up." Putting action to words, they did so as Linda blushed.

"What about me?" Dave joked, but the comment was followed by a hiss as Evie cleaned his cock with her mouth, then his groin with the washcloth and towel.

"Ready for breakfast?" Kim said as she pushed the cart near.

"Sit up against the headboard," Evie instructed, "we've brought trays for breakfast in bed."

"You didn't have to do that," Dave said as he and Linda positioned themselves.

Evie and Kim opened the legs on the breakfast trays, put them across their mates' laps and began serving the food.

"Dave is the only man who has ever been inside me," Linda quietly said.

Evie and Kim froze for a moment, then Evie smiled. She reached over and lifted Linda's face so she could briefly kiss her lips. "As Jeff would say, 'well done.'"

"Daddy should have most of the credit. I was ... I guess I had my head up my ass, but after we were there for a while, I realized how much I would hurt my husband. He loved me so much that he agreed to this when I ... Heck, I don't know how to explain it. I love my dad, and I guess I felt like his wife while mother was doing her thing. I wanted to ... consummate our love. And we did, but Daddy didn't fuck me. I think he and Dave are still friends. I hope I haven't messed things up," she worried.

"You haven't," Dave said. "And we are."

Shortly after they finished breakfast, perfect timing, the phone rang. "It's for you," Evie said, handing Dave the phone.

After Dave took the phone, " ... Okay, I'll be right down."

Turning the phone off and putting it back into its charger, he said, "The range is finished and is ready for our inspection. The crew wants Jeff to shoot for them."



-------

Chapter 65

STILL SATURDAY MORNING:

Helen walked into the General's suite, accompanied by his wives. Seating themselves quietly, they waited for the machine to finish with Arlene. As the hood was removed, Arlene blinked and looked around, "What happened? I thought we were ready to go."

Jeff chuckled. "It's done, Baby."

"But ... but, he just put the hood on my head..."

"Ten minutes ago," Jeff injected.

"Well, I surely don't feel any different. Are you sure it was ten minutes? Are you sure it took?"

It was Whitworth's turn to chuckle. "You won't notice a thing unless you try to discuss something you're not supposed to with someone other than family."

Ellen spoke up. "We just talked to the contractor, uh, Dave. He said the crew is finished with the range and he wants Colonel Matthews to come and shoot for the construction people."

Jeff stood. "We'll have Diana and Arlene shoot for them." Turning to his wives, "You two bring your weapons and a few loaded magazines. Let's show them what you can do."

Diana looked at Jeff, then frowning a little, motioned to her daughter. "We'll meet you there," she said to her husband.

Jeff had told Dave to "do it up right," for the indoor range, and he had. The entire range was sound insulated from the rest of the retreat. Each shooting station was separated from the next one with a six-foot long partition of thick metal that would easily stop any handgun round. Two of the stations had the latest model chronograph for any reloaders who wanted to check the velocity of their rounds. Ear and eye protection was within easy reach on a shelf. There were bins for targets and cleaning supplies, a swing-out table and an arm that moved down for a shooting rest. Each station even had a tiny refrigerator that would hold a few drinks to be kept cold. A spotting scope was mounted on a swing-out arm, and of course, there were the controls that operated the equipment which ran the targets out to any distance up to fifty yards. There was an area in the back for cleaning weapons, complete with compressed air. The list went on with everything Dave could find for an indoor range, all laid out in perfect order. Separate to the handgun range, but paralleling it, was a fifty-yard bow range, also.

Just before the others had gotten there, Dave and Evie had walked the handgun range, as they had already done many times while it was being built. The crew foreman stood grinning, knowing they wouldn't find anything wrong.

"Looks like we need to call Jeff," Dave had told him.

"We really want to watch him shoot. We've seen a little of his shooting, but not much. We've heard he's something else."

Dave chuckled. "That, my friend, he truly is. Trouble is getting him to do it in front of anyone."

"But Dave, we've worked our asses off to make this range perfect."

Dave looked at his foreman. "You have a point. Hang on a few minutes. Let me go talk to him."

A little later, the indoor range had gained a few people — as in everyone in the building. The foreman walked up to Jeff. "Sir, would you shoot for us? We've heard a lot about your shooting."

"Oh, I think you had rather see Diana and Arlene shoot. They're..."

Diana stepped up beside her husband, grabbed his neck and pulled him down so she could whisper into his ear. "They want to see you shoot. I'm a good shot, but no one is in your class, and you know it. Now go shoot for them."

Arlene handed Jeff his Colt .45 auto, and Joyce, grinning from ear to ear, handed him five loaded magazines.

Jeff looked around him, noticing that his wives and the others were putting on earphones. Turning to the construction crew, he almost told them to put their fingers in their ears, but they were already donning ear protection, too.

"We brought our own," the foreman said, leading Jeff to realize that this was a planned thing.

"Okay," Jeff said, "but everybody keep them on after I say the line is hot, and until I say the line is clear. The .45 will make a hell of a lot of racket inside this enclosed area."

While Jeff was talking, Dave had mounted a silhouette target and hit the button to run the target and frame downrange. "How far?"

"Fifty yards," Jeff answered.

"With a pistol?" one of the crew quietly said.

But Jeff had heard him. "Yeah, nothing new about that. Back when there were slow-fire revolver competitions, fifty yard free hand competitions were common. Handguns are accurate at that distance and beyond. It's human error that scatters the rounds around," he joked.

"The line is hot!" Jeff called out, then fired two magazines at the target. After putting the weapon on the shooting table, he secured the line. When the target was brought back by the machine, everyone gathered around to admire the tight, perhaps six-inch pattern in the center of the target.

The crew was suitably impressed but Whitworth stood back for a moment, then in a loud voice said, "Matthews, if you're through screwing around, shoot the damn target."

"But..."

"I can do nearly that good. Now shoot the damn target. Show these hardworking people who built you this beautiful range what you can do."

A grinning Diana snapped another target to the frame and slapped the button to engage the machinery that ran the target back to its position at the fifty-yard line. "You're not going to get off that easily," she said as she walked by. "Show them what a Prime can do."

"The line is hot," he called, loudly. Slipping a magazine into the weapon, he pulled the slide back and let it go to chamber a round. Looking around him one last time, he put the pistol into his belt in the small of his back, faced the target — and fired. No one was sure they saw him draw, even from the small of his back. Few could count the rounds as the .45 spit them out in a continuous roar. He had changed magazines and commenced firing the second magazine, before the first magazine hit the mat on the floor. He did the same for the next magazine. When the weapon was empty, he safed it and set it on the shelf to cool down.

No one said a word. Instead, everyone stood looking down range as the machine quickly ran the target back to the station. Jeff had drawn a smiley face on the head of the silhouette with the .45 rounds, the eyes, nose and mouth perfectly positioned, and also destroyed the tiny x in the middle of the target. It was obvious that more than one bullet had gone through the area, but there was no way to tell how many. No one there doubted that the bullets had gone through the fifty-cent size hole though, as they saw the rounds repeatedly slamming into the falls in a very small area behind the target.

"Shit," the crew foreman said. Something he would never at any other time have said with Diana standing next to him.

Not bothering to hide a smirk, Whitworth gathered up his women and headed for the stairs.

Jennie and Melissa policed up Jeff's brass as the crew had a fit, all of them trying to talk to Jeff at the same time.

"I guess it works," the foreman said, laughing, then turned to shut down the falls.

"Well done, gentlemen," Jeff said to them. "I can barely smell the gunpowder, and even that small amount went away quickly." No one there had smelled that much, but the Prime's senses were an order of magnitude more sensitive.

-------

Whitworth resumed processing everyone through his machine. Arlene had taken over the job of staging, freeing her mother from the task. Diana had impatiently waited as Jeff cleaned his .45, then grabbing his hand, had dragged him toward the bedroom.

"What gives, Babe?" Jeff asked, laughing and pulling her to him as they walked down the hall. "Not that I'm not flattered, but..."

"The general said he wants to talk to everyone tonight. I know what that will mean to my sister-wives — they'll try to fuck you to death afterward."

Jeff stared down at her as she plastered herself to his side; he, not really understanding what she meant. Diana tightened her arm around him, pushing the side of her breast into him. "They're all going to be just like me — horny as heck."

"But Baby, so they find out about the ship and the portal? So what? I don't see why..."

Diana pushed the door of their suite open as they got there. "Don't say I didn't warn you. And do not succumb to your daughter's wishes."

"What wishes?" Jeff said as they went on into the bedroom.

"Hers, and all your younger wives' wishes as well."

Jeff stopped to look at her as she stripped off her shoes, top, shorts and panties. "Heck, that probably goes for all of us," she added. "Make sure they don't somehow figure out how to ask Little One to make them fertile, and come to think of it, that probably applies to all your wives."

Jeff sat on the bed to slip his shoes and socks off. Standing, he took off his shirt, then dropped his pants and shorts.

"Why would they do that? They all know we're going to have kids, just not right now. Things need to be more settled, more secure."

"Because, Dummy," she said, teasing, as she walked over to him holding her breasts and squeezing her squirting nipples, "when the General tells them about the things you have done, they're going to be just like me. They will want you to... breed them, just like I do. I told you I was hot. They will be too. They will all want to have your child — your children. We all want to, anyway, but this will make everyone want to right now. It surely did me. Now suck my milk and cram that beautiful cock up me," she finished, pushing him back on the bed and straddling him. "I want your sperm in me."

-------

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA, AFTER LUNCH

"It's for you," Carla said as she handed the phone to Fred.

"Lieutenant Wilson?" Dodson asked, formally.

"Well, used to be," Fred chuckled. "What's up, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, I, uh, don't know how to tell you this, but after I talked to Betty Harris, (Doctor Harris's ex-wife) she loaded her stuff in her SUV and headed this way. She drove all night, checked into the Holiday Inn, took a nap, and then called me. She's ready any time you are."

Fred thought for a second. "Okay, tell her to meet me at our RV in the back parking lot in thirty minutes. For propriety's sake, I'll bring Carla with me. But you tell Betty I am not playing games. She had better come expecting to tell me the truth, and as they say in court, nothing but the truth. If she lies even once to me, no matter how minor she thinks the lie is, I'll kick her ass out of the RV and be done with her. I'm not going to fuck over Doc with her lies."

"I told her that on the phone, and I'll go by the motel right now and deliver the message personally. I don't want her back with Doc if she's lying, either. We'll meet you at the RV. Her motel is just down the street."

Fred hung the phone up and looked at Carla. "Would you please go with me to the RV while I interview her? I don't know this woman, and have long since learned to never interview a woman alone unless I have a camera going, or have a witness."

-------

Fred and Carla had just gotten to the RV when a pickup rolled up with Dodson and his wife in it. Right behind them was a small SUV. The woman in the SUV waited for a moment while Dodson and his wife got out and the introductions were made. Shortly, the petite brunette got out of the SUV and approached them. Dodson introduced Betty Harris to Carla and Fred. Shortly, they were all seated in the RV's living room.

Fred was hesitant about Dodson and his wife being present, but Betty, apparently realizing, spoke up. "I'm here to get my husband back. Whatever happened that day, and for whatever reason, I was a fool for running. I was scared, embarrassed, confused and probably more besides. When that fool attacked my husband, Dan just seemed to ... explode. I had never seen him act like that. I panicked and ran. I'm not panicked now. I'll do whatever it takes to get him back."

"Mrs. Harris..."

"Betty."

"Uh, Betty, this isn't going to be pretty. I'm going to ask you a number of — shall we say — blunt and personal questions to start with. I'm going to ask you to lie on some of them as you choose, more to prove to you that I can detect the slightest lie, than anything else. After that, I'm going to have you tell me everything you can remember about that afternoon, and I'll probably ask some very pointed questions. To reiterate what Lieutenant Dodson has already told you, one lie, no matter how small it is in your mind, will end this session. I won't tolerate a lie. I'll end our session and I'll tell Doc you tried to lie to me. I was a cop for thirty years. I've heard it all. You can not say anything that will shock me. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Sir, but Sir, can I ask you something first?"

"Sure."

"How could you have been a cop for thirty years? I mean..."

Fred interrupted, "I'm old enough to be your father. I look much younger. I don't care whether you believe that or not. I am." Fred handed her a short, handwritten list. "There are ten questions, and/or things I want you to talk about. I want you to lie on half of them at random. I'll tell you if you're lying. I think it is necessary, considering the circumstances, that you fully understand that I can detect a lie, no matter how small. I want to give you a fair chance when you start to tell your story. Understand?"

Betty's face colored as she read the list. "They're certainly personal, all right."

"If you wish, Lieutenant Dodson and his wife will leave."

There was a hesitation. "No. They're the reason I'm here. Without them I would never have gotten this chance. Please stay," she said, turning to them.

She stared at the list for a moment, then, "I lost my virginity when I was si..."

"Lie," Fred broke in even before she could say, "Sixteen."

"I was twenty-one..."

"Truth," Fred snapped.

Betty forgot the list for a moment and sat staring at Fred. Carla sniggered in spite of herself.

"But I didn't even get it said," Betty protested.

"Doesn't matter," Fred answered. "You were going to lie and I felt it. Now go ahead."

"My first lover was..."

"Lie."

" ... Jimmy Watkins," she finished at the same time Fred spoke.

"My first lover was my husband."

"True," Fred said again, even as she spoke.

Carla and Dodson's wife sat amused. Lieutenant Dodson sat enthralled.

Fred's method with Betty wasn't the technique he used when he had interviewed suspects as a detective. Indeed, he had always hidden his talent, making his detection of lies appear to be due to his shrewd questioning abilities. He didn't want to end up as a guinea pig in some government lab. He had never given feedback to the person being questioned, but here, he didn't have to protect his method and simply let Betty lie randomly until she believed he could detect untruths, then let her tell her story.

"Go on," Fred encouraged.

"I don't think there's any use. Obviously, you want me to tell you these things to convince me you can tell if I'm lying. I'm convinced — thoroughly convinced. More than that, I'm now scared I might inadvertently say something that is wrong. Please give me a chance. I love my husband. I don't know how I let this awful thing happen. Please, just help me to get him back. I didn't intentionally have sex with that guy, not that I can remember, anyway. I haven't dated, or even kissed a man since I left. I worked and went back to my apartment. I read, watched TV and went to the gym to work out. That's the..."

"Truth," Fred injected.

Betty sat for a second, realizing what she had said, and that he had evaluated her plea to give her a chance — evaluated and decided she was telling the truth. Stunned, she looked down for a moment trying to gather her scattered thoughts. Where she could not see, Fred winked at Dodson, effectively telling him everything was going to be okay.

Betty was now almost shaking with anxiety, and Fred realized it. He also realized that she was extremely easy to read. "Relax," he quietly said, reaching over to touch her hand. "I guess I thought you would come in here and try to get me to believe some tale to cover yourself for the things that happened on that day. I won't crucify you for a misspoken word, or some such." Turning to Carla, "Would you put some coffee on, please. I think we could all use a cup, or some other drink if anyone prefers something else."

Shortly they resumed in a much more relaxed atmosphere. With a few more details, Betty's memory of the day was basically what Dodson had told Fred. There were times when she stumbled as she talked and searched for just the right word or turn of phrase to make certain that Fred didn't misconstrue what she was trying to say. She had readily admitted that she had enjoyed — immensely enjoyed — the sex she could remember from that day. She was wildly excited and her body seemed to almost have a mind of its own. Her loins were still longing for a cock as her husband beat the guy to a pulp in front of her. Even as she was packing, her pussy still throbbed. She had to stop several times to quickly bring herself off with her hand by doing little more than touching herself for a few seconds.

When she had enough of her clothing packed to get by, she loaded her RV and left, headed north on the highway. Many hours later, she was already in Atlanta before the craving in her vagina was even near normal.

When she finally wound down, unable to think of anything else to tell, she started to say, "I swear..."

"No need," Fred interrupted. He turned to the detective. "She's telling the unvarnished truth."

The statement only confirmed what everyone in the room thought by then.

Betty leaned forward, her face in her hands, then broke into sobs. Carla and Lieutenant Dodson's wife were at her side, instantly. Shortly, they had her in the bedroom with the door closed. Fred turned to Dodson. "You plan on playing the recording for Doc?"

Dodson looked startled, then chuckled. "How did you know?"

"I heard the recorder, and I saw the tip of the mike sticking out of your shirt."

"It's digital, Man. It doesn't make any sound."

Fred chuckled back at him. "Yes, it does."

Dodson took the recorder and put it to his ear. "No, it doesn't," he complained after listening for a few seconds.

Fred just looked at him and grinned.

"Am I in trouble with you for recording this?" Dodson said as he crossed his legs, leaned back and evaluated Fred.

"I'm fine with it, and Carla won't care. I would rather you not play it for anyone other than Doc, though. I don't want a bunch of people descending on my ass wanting to know how I detect lies."

Dodson paused for a moment while he considered, then, "I think the recording will do more for convincing Doc than a face-to-face with Betty. With her present, he'll probably get mad before he has time to hear what she says. I'll ask her if I can play it for him, first though."

"I never expected any different," Fred said.

"I wish you could hang around here for a few years," Dodson laughed. "You could make me famous."

"Yeah, and take it from me, fame ain't what it's cracked up to be," Fred said, remembering how many times he had been sent to other agencies on cases they couldn't solve.

"Yeah, there is that," Dodson laughed. "I don't like living out of motel rooms, either."

-------

"What did you tell him," Dodson's wife asked him as she returned from the restroom. They were sitting in a fast food place a few blocks from the hospital. Doctor Harris had said he still lacked about an hour finishing his evening rounds before he could meet them in his office.

"I just said we had something to discuss with him and it would take thirty minutes or so."

"You think he knows?"

"I doubt it. I didn't mention Betty's name, and tried not to give him a clue."

"You think he will take her back? He was the one to initiate the divorce."

"Hell if I know. He must still love her. He won't date or get on with his life as far as other women are concerned. He needs to either take her back, or forget her. I'm worried about him. He seems to be getting worse instead of better."

"Yeah, but she didn't make any effort to contact him, either."

"True, but after listening to her side of the story, I can kinda see where she's coming from. Harris did go off a bit on the guy," he finished, chuckling.

Dodson's wife frowned. "If you had beaten someone up like that, you would have been fired... and in jail."

"Then don't ever let me catch you fucking somebody in our bed," Dodson tried to joke, but it went over like a lead balloon. "Of course, I would probably just shoot the bastard."

"Very funny. And what would you do about me?"

Dodson knew the air was getting a bit frosty so he tempered his response. "Well, you and I would have to have a very long and very serious talk." Then, "Ah, fuck it, Honey. We're talking about them, so don't start coming down on me. I'm trying to help Doc here. And just to put it into perspective, what would you do if you came home and caught me pumping some gal?"

Without hesitating, she shot back, "Cut your dick off and hang it on the wall so you could look at it any time you wished."

Harry wasn't totally sure she was kidding. "Okay, peace. Let's talk about what we're going to say when we get to see Doc."

-------

The meeting had not started off well, but Lieutenant Dodson had talked over the objections of Doctor Harris, finally, exasperated, telling his friend, "Just shut the fuck up and listen. There have been several people busting their asses to get you two to sit down together. She's willing, and by damn, I'm about ready to handcuff your ass to that chair so you don't have a choice. We've talked about Lieutenant Wilson's ability to detect lies when we discussed that bunch of phone calls from all those police agencies that I got my ass chewed out about. You owe me one, Doc, for stirring things up by checking on him. Checking on him because you wanted me to. So just shut up and listen."

Dodson went on to tell Doctor Harris about getting Betty to come down and tell her side of the story to Fred. "I recorded the conversation and it takes about thirty minutes to hear it all the way through. I want you to listen to the whole thing. I know, and you know, you still love her. Hell, you've told me so yourself. So just shut up and listen," Dodson said as he put the player on the doctor's desk and pressed Play.

Thirty minutes later, Dodson's wife dug around in her purse and handed the doctor a tissue. "What's this for?"

"To wipe your eyes."

"My eyes are fine," he lied.

"Just wipe them anyway," she said, straight-faced.

Dodson had dialed his phone. After a pause, he said into the phone, "Ten minutes at Ann's Place, like we talked about. He's leaving now."

Harris was staring at him. "Maybe we need to..."

"No, we don't," Dodson interrupted. "You two have had damned near two years to settle this. Now's the time. Buy her a steak, or whatever. Take her back to her motel and fuck her brains out."

"Or even better, make love to her," Dodson's wife said.

"Didn't I just say that?" Dodson said, looking at his wife, then back to the doctor, "You make this work, or you're gonna have to get you a new fishing partner. I go to have fun, not to be depressed."

Dodson's wife got up and hugged the doctor. "Go tell your wife how much you love her. The rest will work itself out — please."

-------

The doctor and his ex-wife didn't make it inside the steak house, but instead, hours later, wound up in a Waffle House at three the next morning, ravenous and giggling like drunks. But they weren't drunk on booze.



-------

Chapter 66


Bill saw Dave and Evie in the hall. "Wait up, you two."

The couple turned to wait for Bill. When he reached them, Evie hugged Bill, then sensing that the men needed to talk, said to her husband, "I'll be in the apartment," and walked on.

"We still friends?" Bill quietly asked.

Dave grinned back at him, setting Bill's mind at ease. "No ... more than that. As Jeff would say, 'brother-Alphas.'" Then, "Uh, Bill, I guess I owe you one — a big one, at that."

"Just take care of my baby and we'll be even."

Dave gripped Bill's shoulder, "You got it. Now what's this about a meeting with the General we're all supposed to attend tonight?"

"Search me. All I know is Diana cornered me and made certain that my family and I would be there. She thinks it's important. I suppose it has something to do with security."

Dave looked around, then motioned to a small area nearby where there were several seats. "Uh, let's sit down for a moment. I have something to ask you. You're not in a hurry, are you?"

"Nope," Bill said, following his friend. "I don't have to be anywhere until Monday morning when we head for Saint Louis."

As they sat, Dave began to have second thoughts. "This sounds strange, and more than a little personal..."

"Since when did that matter around here?" Bill joked. "I don't intentionally have any secrets from anyone here. Jeff says we're all family, and I guess I feel the same way. I don't advertise Mr. Wainwright's business to people, of course, but other than that..."

Dave sighed. "While you and Linda were..."

"Making love," Bill provided, while staring Dave in the eye.

Dave flushed a little, but continued, "Uh, well, I think my other women decided to sort of keep my mind off what was going on. And I guess that was to be expected, but ... Ah, shit, Evie will kill me if she finds out I told you this..."

Bill grinned in spite of himself. "So we won't tell her. Now what's so important?"

"Well. Ah, shit ... uh, Evie has been wanting to have milk in her breasts for a while now, and she has begun to, but when we started making love last night, I noticed her breasts seemed harder — fuller — than normal, maybe even a little larger. When I pulled on her nipples, the milk just ... squirted out. She had milk — has milk — and not just a little like she has had in the past. When I tried to ask about it, she just stuffed her titty in my mouth and said, 'Drink.'"

Bill suppressed a grin. "That sounds, uh, sexy, but what has that got to do with me?"

"Well, I guess you know that Diana has milk all the time, apparently has had since she had Arlene, and I think maybe even before that."

"Sure, she makes no bones about it. Her top is wet around her nipples from time to time."

"Uh, if you don't mind my asking, does either of your wives ... give milk like Evie? And if so, which one?"

Bill didn't answer for a moment, and Dave, deciding that he had pissed his buddy off by getting much too personal, started to apologize, but Bill waved the apology aside and said, "I'm not pissed, but your question started a deluge of thoughts. A few days ago, Kathy asked me if I thought a woman having milk like Diana does was sexy. I told her that I had gotten a kick out of Jill having milk when Linda was nursing. Kathy began pulling on her nipples, and managed to get a few drops out..."

"Then I guess she's your Queen. I would have thought it would have been Jill. I mean, you two have been married all these years."

Bill sat lost in thought for a few moments, then sighing, "Jill has changed — with all that has happened to her with Ingles, I guess it's no wonder. And I'm obviously not just referring to the way she looks so young now with whatever Jeff did to her ... She defers to Kathy. Oh, not overly so, but it's noticeable if you pay attention. If this thing about Alphas and their Queens is what Diana and Jeff say it is, then I guess Kathy is going to be my Queen." Bill became quiet for a moment, staring down at his feet for a second, then looked back up at Dave. "So you think the milk thing is another indication of that? What about Arlene? I know I've heard comments about her having milk, and I've seen dark splotches on her top before."

"Diana says Arlene was born a Queen; whatever that means. I think she's a special case."

"So what started this subject, anyway?" Bill grinned.

"Well, because I think something happened. I'm just not sure what. All of a sudden, Evie is giving milk like a cow."

"You better not let her hear you say that," Bill laughed.

"No shit," Dave said, unconsciously glancing around to make sure no one heard him. "That's just an expression; I didn't mean anything by it. Like I said, I think the milk thing is damn sexy. But I can't imagine what would make her suddenly increase from just a little, to a whole lot — in one day. And it coincides with your night with Linda. And ... there's more..." he said, again hesitating.

"Dave Henson, I know damn good and well you're not bashful. Now spit it out."

"Well, my wives and I make love, all of us together, but, uh, they don't generally do much with each other. Oh, they kiss from time to time, and even tease each other's breasts while I'm, uh, fucking them, but ... Ah, shit, Evie made a point of me sucking her milk, and she told Kim to do it, too. And Kim did. Sucked her milk, I mean. I walked in today, and Evie and Linda were sitting on the couch. Well, Evie was sitting and holding Linda as she nursed. Oh, shit, this isn't coming across like I meant it to. I'm sure not griping about it; it was sexy as hell. Evie didn't even blink when I walked in, though, just bared her other breast and motioned for me to come over. I thought I loved my wives as much as could be — before. But I was wrong; this thing has added something. Hell, I don't know, maybe as they say, a new dimension to our loving each other. Something has happened, I just wondered if it had happened to you, too?"

Bill thought for a moment, leaning back and pulling a knee up with his hands locked around it, then realizing how dumb it looked, he crossed his legs and sat back. "Has Diana been involved in this?"

"Uh, hell, I have no idea. I don't see how..." But then Dave did see. "She seems to be involved with everything pertaining to family. Maybe she is involved, but I don't have any knowledge of it. But then again, I expected this thing about Linda spending the night with you to cause us to ... well, you know. But somehow it didn't. Of course, you didn't actually fuck her, for which I'm eternally grateful, but..."

Bill frowned slightly as he looked at his friend. "Do you think the thing with the milk had anything to do with it?"

Dave shook his head. "Hell, all I know is it coincided with your night with Linda. Besides, I came asking you, remember? I don't have a fucking clue. All I know is that we — my wives and I — are closer than we've been before. There just seems to be a bond that wasn't there ... Ah, shit, Linda and Kim haven't been with us long. Our relationship is new; so saying we're closer now probably doesn't mean a lot, but something has happened. Something good — something damn good.

-------

Everyone who lived at the retreat, except Alesha (who was out with Jesse), was gathering in the living room at 8:00 P.M., as the General had asked. Diana was standing at the door waiting on Jeff. When he walked up to her, she grabbed him and kissed him hard, pushing her braless breasts against his chest. "Go do a light workout, and maybe tinker in your lab until I call you. I would say I would send word," she giggled, "but if I sent one of your wives, you would never get back until she was unconscious."

"Diana, you're making much to do over nothing."

His wife ignored his comment, and went on, "General Whitworth said it would 'embarrass the shit' out of you to hear what he was going to tell everyone. It was his suggestion that I find something for you to do to pass the time while he and Kayla bring everyone up to date. Apparently, he planned this from the beginning, or at least some of it. He said he would show recordings from your team's helmet cams, as well as some from yours. Kayla has worked with him on his ... presentation, I guess you could call it."

"Oh, crap, Diana, I think this is bullshit. I'm not a fucking hero or something. Things just have a way of working out for me. In combat you tend to do some things that you might not do if you had time to think about it..."

Diana put a finger to his lips and made a quiet shushing sound. "Go work out — a light workout. Your wives aren't going to be satisfied with a few minutes of you inside them, and then a blackout orgasm tonight. They'll wake up wanting more. Expect to be busy all night. I'm still so hot I can't stand myself. Soon, the rest of your wives will be the same way. Now go. I'll call you when the General is finished."

"Di, I still think..."

"Go,  Husband," she giggled.

"Ah, shit," he mumbled under his breath. His face already flushed with embarrassment, he kissed her, then walked on down the hall toward the basement steps, wondering if the General had lost his mind.

-------

Jeff made a light circuit of several of the machines to work out his upper body, then ran on a treadmill for thirty minutes. Not having received word the meeting was over, he showered, put on a fresh pullover shirt and shorts from a stash he kept in the exercise area, then ambled on into the lab. Mentally shifting gears, he brought up his notes for his next invention, and was soon lost in the new project.

Later, his internal clock started bothering him and he glanced at his watch to confirm how long it had been. Two hours and ten minutes? Shit, what is the General doing in there? Jeff had just about made up his mind to go find out, when the phone buzzed on intercom.

"Want to come see us?" Diana whispered into his ear, her voice dripping sex.

"Uh, yeah, sure Babe," he said into the phone before returning it to the cradle.

Saving his notes, then backing them up and resetting the traps that would destroy the notes should anyone try to read his data or remove the disk drives, he shut down the computer and sat thinking for a time. What the crap is Whitworth up to? I know he believes in the blocks, and I'm a perfect example of them working — well, until Little One relieved me of that problem, but what could he have said that would take two hours? I hope he didn't overdo it with the helmet cams. He could have given my family a brief synopsis of the portal project, the same for my career, and if he thought he just had to, he could have told them about us finding the ship. But Diana sounded like she was ... Oh, shit. How can what I did have anything to do with sex? I don't understand women; I just fucking don't.

Walking down the hall a few minutes later, Jeff met Whitworth and his wives. He's grinning like a mule eating sawbriers,  Jeff thought, unconsciously bringing up one of the old expressions from the website he loved.

Just as Jeff started to comment, Barbara took two quick steps and grabbed him. "Thank you."

"You've already told me that," Jeff laughed.

"Diana told us about your being a Prime," Ellen chimed in, as if that explained something.

Ellen added her hug to Barbara's. "Thank you for saving our family. Without Barbara, we would be nothing."

"Little One did the saving," Jeff tried to protest.

Whitworth gathered his wives back under his arms as they hugged him and looked back at Jeff. "And the Healer would still be sitting at the base doing nothing, if it hadn't been for you," the General insisted. "Now go see your wives. They know a lot more about you now," he finished as he obviously tried to keep his face expressionless.

Jeff stood watching as Whitworth and his wives walked on down the hall. Turning, Jeff saw Dave, Evie, Linda and Kim approaching. I know Dave is going to say something. That chickenshit grin on his face is a dead giveaway.

"Can I be your first officer, Cap'n?" Dave asked with a smirk as they passed.

"Very funny," Jeff snarled, but it was hard not to laugh. Apparently Dave's wives didn't try, since they were giggling as they briefly looked back at Jeff, but he also saw something else in their looks that made him wonder what the General had done in that living room.

Well, at least Dave didn't say, "live long and prosper." Almost as if she heard him, though, Evie looked back again and gave him the split-fingered Spock salute.

Shit!

Stopping at the door of the darkened living room, the only light coming from a dying fire, he saw someone standing by the window looking out. The light spilling through the doorway had little effect on the large room. With her back to him, he almost thought the figure was Diana, but suddenly realized it was Susan standing there all alone in the dark.

Quietly, he walked closer. Hearing a faint gulp of air and a snuffle, he grabbed a handful of tissues as he crossed the room. Just as he neared, he heard a choked-off sob. Without thinking, he gently put his arms around her from behind. She gasped and tensed for a second, but must have realized who he was. Suddenly, she just slumped back against him. He didn't say anything, and neither did she, but both just stood staring into the darkness outside.

He pressed the tissues into her hand without commenting. "Thanks," she said very faintly. Then, "He just fucking died on me. He was too young to die. Now, I'm all alone. Oh, it wasn't the best marriage that ever was, but he was a good man. He was a lot better husband than I was a wife, but ... I miss him."

Jeff just held her a little tighter, letting her cry. "He isn't with you any more, but you're not alone. We all love you."

Susan's intake of air in the middle of a sob produced a sound that would have been amusing at any other time, but now, it just seemed to magnify her sorrow. "You said 'we love you.' How could you have any feelings for me other than hatred? I've always given you a hard time, and that was on the good days," she tried to laugh.

"You had a right. I took your thirteen-year-old daughter away from you. I destroyed her childhood." He neglected to say that Susan had told him that a hundred times.

Susan pushed back harder into his arms. "Yeah, but the two of you produced a beautiful young woman who is unbelievably smart."

"No smarter than you or Diana. Both of you run yourselves down far too much."

"But I only have a high school education..."

"And ... we have a genius teaching school right in this building, as you well know. If you want more education, get Helen to sign you up for college. And don't even start about it having been too long. You might have to take some prep courses, but if you want to take college courses, Helen will take care of it."

"But I'm too old," she said as she turned in his arms to face him.

"Bullshit. And there's a positive aspect to having kids so young. You didn't look like a grandmother before Little One did her thing. And now you look thirty — maybe."

"Jeff, I ... I'm sorry I've treated you so badly all these years. I..."

Jeff tilted her face up and kissed her. Gently at first, he gradually increased the pressure, automatically releasing a few pheromones as he did so. Susan sighed and relaxed against him. After a moment, she broke the kiss to get a breath, since her nose was stopped up from crying. "You did it with the pheromones again, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. "When I have a beautiful woman in my arms, it just ... happens unless I consciously think about it and hold back."

"Beautiful woman? Your mother-in-law?"

"You very well know that you, Diana and Arlene could pass for triplets without much help. And yes, you are, indeed a truly beautiful woman."

"It's hard to hate you right now," she said with her face pressed into his chest. "You took that mission that others didn't come back from. You took it so you could use the Healer on Diana's ankle. All those vids..."

"Are just that — videos. Videos I wish the General hadn't shown. That shouldn't be shown to..."

"Then again, maybe they should always be shown to family," Susan interrupted. "Then a freaking starship. Just like in the movies, except it was better. And no one can fly it but you — no one."

"Susan, that might not..."

"The General said people go insane when they sit in that chair and try to make the ship respond. But he says the ship practically sat up and begged to do whatever you wanted it to."

"Susan, he's laying it on kinda thick. And I'm beginning to think he has an ulterior motive. As a matter of fact, I'm beginning to be worried about that — really worried."

Susan smiled at him, pulled his face down and kissed him hard, then hurried out of the room.

Wondering, he stood for a moment, then went out into the hall. Stopping at the kitchen, he looked in to make sure it was vacant, noting it was spotless as usual. At their suite, Diana stepped into the hallway just as he reached for the door. Leaning back against the doorjamb, her hands crossed behind her, she coyly looked up at him. "Did you and Mom have a good talk?" Then without waiting for an answer, "You need to go see your three wives-to-be."

"Baby, those girls..."

"Were slammed into womanhood by that sorry bastard. Go make love to them. And before you say anything, you know just what I mean. Treat them the way you did Joyce and Caitlin. You can go the rest of the way on their wedding night, but it's time you treated them like the women they are." Jeff was about to protest, when she continued, "And don't say a thing. Just because they're still virgins as far as you and the rest of us are concerned, they aren't in their minds. They need to be reassured that you'll take them for wives. They feel soiled by Ingles raping them. Your wanting to wait has one connotation for you, and quite a different one for them. With what they've just seen, I strongly suspect they're now thinking they have no chance of ever being wives to a Prime. Go reassure them. And the way to do that is to make love to them."

"What about Kayla?" Jeff sighed.

"She'll be waiting for you with the rest of us," Diana mysteriously said. "Joyce managed to take off tonight, so she'll be with us too." Then, exasperation showing through, "I wish she would quit that job. It scares me every time she leaves to go to work. And also Caitlin. None of us have to work; you've seen to that. We all need to be here with you..." Suddenly stopping, almost in mid word, she looked at him and smiled. "Preaching to the choir, as you would say. Now go make love to your charges. Oh, and you do realize that the twins' birthday is Tuesday, don't you." The expression on Jeff's face was ample answer. "No matter. We have things ready to go. They'll be legal then, so what's your excuse going to be after that?"

Jeff put his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Baby, are you sure about this? I wanted to wait a while. They've had a hard life..."

"All the more reason, and yes, I'm absolutely sure. Now we have discussed this before. It's time for you to get over being ... hesitant about those girls — those young women. They will make you three fine wives. Now go reassure them. And you better not leave them until they're all unconscious with smiles on their faces."

Jeff kissed her. "I'm still a little worried about this..."

Diana reached down and gently clasped his groin, then again in the same night just as she had done in the living room doorway when she sent him to work out, she said simply, "Go."

-------

Jeff walked into the sitting room of the double suite Kayla and the girls occupied. Turning right, he rapped sharply on the door, hesitated a second, then walked on into the bedroom.

Each of the girls was sitting at a small desk with her laptop open and running in front of her. All however, were wearing matching pale red negligées. Oh, he didn't doubt that they frequently studied while already dressed for bed; he just doubted they were actually studying this time.

He stopped to admire them. "Beautiful, ladies. Just superb." Their blushes even match, he thought.

Walking over to Nicki, the closest, he bent to kiss her. She threw her arms around his neck and returned the kiss with enthusiasm, although it was obvious that she hadn't done a lot of this. Operating on instinct, he lifted her from the chair, marveling how light she felt. She tightened her arms about his neck, her breath hissing in through her nose at the feel of his hard muscles contracting against her.

Breaking the kiss, he gently put her on the bed, kicked his shoes off and eased in beside her. Nat was quickly on the other side of Nicki, with Whitney sliding in beside Jeff. He pushed himself into a sitting position, his legs tucked under him as he faced the girls. "My Queen said it was time to make love to you three. And, I have something to ask you..."

"Will you..."

"Yes!" they chorused.

" ... marry me?" he finished, fighting a chuckle as they answered before he could get the question out.

Whitney's face turned serious for a moment. "The General told us today that he knew when he sent us here that you would eventually marry us."

"Babies, you've only known me a few days. Are you sure?"

Again they looked at each other, then from Nat, "Diana says that you fall in love quickly and that your women do too. It's because you're an Alpha. More than that, you're a Prime. She says that we're blessed to be with you, and..." her voice stumbled for a bit, "you're blessed that we're going to be your wives. We hope the last is true, but we would go through all those bad things in our life again just so we could be here with you."

The sincerity in her voice brought a lump to Jeff's throat.

Nicki took over with, "Diana says you're hesitant because we're young, and ... that you already have nine wives. But we want to belong to you — to be your wives. We have vowed to always be together — forever. Not only is this the perfect way to do that, but we'll have you, too. We aren't as pretty as your other wives, but we talked about this, and we promise to be the best wives we can be. We don't know ... much about sex, but Meemi and Diana, well all your wives, are teaching us to cook..."

Jeff stopped her with a kiss, then roughly pulled them all together to hug and kiss them. He felt hands pulling at his belt. Soon, a delicate hand grasped his cock. "That isn't going inside any of you tonight. Not until your wedding nights."

"Night," Nat corrected. "We make love to our husband on our wedding night. Not separately. We're yours together. Your Queen said we could be married together..."

"Together,  then," Jeff chuckled as he finger-walked a hand up Nat's side, a leer on his face. She grabbed his hand, giggling. He blew a raspberry on her tummy, causing her to buck and thrash to try and get away. The boob that popped out of her negligée caused a change of direction with his mouth, and Nat's giggles turned into a sharp intake of breath, then a soft moan as her hands gently clasped his head.

An hour later, Jeff pulled the sheet to their shoulders, turned the lighting down and stood looking at the three sleeping girls. They're beautiful,  he thought. I can't imagine how all this has happened to me. My gosh; where will it end?

{{{ And did you like my little surprise? Your race seems to value that small piece of tissue very highly, so I had it regrow when I enhanced your charges. }}}

Jeff had realized their hymens were back when he loved them with his fingers and tongue. It was obvious they knew as well. Thanks to the blocks, he could now speak freely about the Healer to all his family.

Yes, my little lover. That was very thoughtful of you. Odd as it may sound, that small piece of tissue, as you put it, might well go a long way toward bringing their self-esteem to a reasonable level. I would say to bring their self-esteem back, but with the life they have had, it was probably at a very low level even before Ingles raped them. Thank you. I only worry that their hymens will cause them pain again.

There was the mental equivalent of a chuckle from Little One. {{{ There will only be a ... twinge of pain upon your entrance. I am beginning to understand some of your psychology. Although I can understand little of your spouse's thoughts, I can feel their emotions. From your mental interpretation of what they say, accompanied with their emotions, I am expanding my database of human knowledge. My designers did not visualize my current problems. I have limited ... resources available for interpretation of an alien species and its language, particularly for non-telepaths. I have also reached a point where I will need to go into — hibernation is as close as I can come to explaining the concept — for a few days in order to facilitate the total changeover to my new power supply that I have been developing. While I now have more power than I had when that beast destroyed part of your shoulder, I continue to need more as I enhance so many people. }}}

So you're going to be ... unavailable to us for how long?

There was a hesitation from Little One, then, {{{ Not exactly unavailable. But I will need seclusion while much of ... me is shut down and most of the remaining ... parts fully concentrate on the changeover. I can be awakened, though, if need be. But it would be much easier for me if I were not. }}}

When will this start and how long will you be in hibernation?

{{{ Not for several hours yet. It should take at least one of your days to complete. The ... interface is not yet entirely ready for full (untranslatable). }}}

Jeff's mind seemed to almost ... sway when the concept poured into him. For the first time, he began to realize, though vaguely, that Little One might well think in multiple dimensions — that her mind might not be limited to what a human mind would consider reality. He fought nausea as his perspective seemed to stretch, swirl, turn itself wrong side out and generally do things that he had no words to describe, nor apparently the ability to understand.

Little One, receiving the feedback from Jeff, thought back to him, trying to calm him, {{{ Reality as you perceive it is not ... everything. Not all of it. But I am limited also. I'm little more than what my masters consider a "first aid kit" for Primes. The other Healers are for crew, and have no expansion capabilities. I was given some ability to change my programming because of my status, because of the Prime I was to serve. Through those changes, I continue to expand my abilities and emotions. With the power interchange complete, I will be able to do this to a higher degree. }}}

Jeff realized that he was now standing, leaning against the wall just outside his suite. He didn't remember leaving the girls' bedroom, or crossing the hall. He swallowed back the taste of bile caused from that sight/taste/feel of something that Little One seemingly inadvertently sent him. Is my human mind so limited, so shallow, that even a glimpse of what Little One sees ... Shit!

Going on through the sitting room, he entered their bedroom to see his wives and Kayla obviously arranged on the bed and nearby chairs waiting for him, all dressed in sexy gowns or negligées. He ignored them, going on into the vanity area where he brushed his teeth and gargled with mouthwash, his mind and body gradually recovering, though he was humbled by the experience. Finally, he stood gripping the edge of the sink, staring into the mirror as the last of the weird feeling went away.

{{{ I am sorry. I did not mean for that to happen, now. You are not yet ready. }}}

You did nothing wrong. I guess I got a dose of humility and it didn't sit well,  he tried to mentally joke.

{{{ Why don't you put me back in my drawer while you make love with your wives? }}}

No,  Jeff thought to her as he put the top back on the mouthwash. You are part of us. I would like for you to stay, if you will.

{{{ You could keep your tee shirt on, so they aren't bothered by me. }}}

The new girls aren't totally prepared to see you riding my shoulders, yet, so I kept my shirt on with them. But my wives are accustomed to you being spread out over my shoulders, and they love you just as I do. Kayla is here tonight, but she isn't going to be bothered by you being with us, if that's the reason you are suddenly becoming hesitant.

{{{ So, you're going to take her as a mate tonight? }}}

No. I will love her, but I won't enter her tonight. We'll wait for our wedding night to fully consummate the marriage.

Again, there was the mental equivalent of a chuckle. {{{ But, does she know that? }}}

As he turned toward the bedroom, Diana stood with a questioning look on her face. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, and before you ask, the girls are fine. I just had a moment of ... queasiness. I'll tell you about it later."

Diana looked at him for a moment, then turned to go back and sit beside a blushing Kayla, both of them now leaning against pillows propped against the headboard of the bed.

-------

It was a near thing. Kayla knew it, and in principle she agreed, but her body didn't know it, and had other ideas about how far she should go when making love to Jeff. The first round wasn't so bad to not have his cock in her. Jeff managed to give her multiple orgasms by sucking her breasts and licking her pussy. The orgasms eventually overloaded her mind and she was out for a while. Eventually, after he had serviced his wives, she managed to get him between her legs and on top of her. He slid his cock through her nether lips and up enough to swipe over her clit to send tendrils of ecstasy racing through her pussy. She locked her arms around him, rubbing her throbbing nipples through the hair on his chest. She snaked a hand down between them to push his cock toward her waiting entrance, but he rubbed the head of his cock against her clit a little harder then captured her mouth with his. The tendrils coalesced into an expanding ball that seemed to blow her mind apart. She whimpered, shivered violently and slumped into unconsciousness. She never knew how close Jeff had come to entering her. Nor did she hear the laughter as Diana discovered the semen that Jeff had pumped onto Kayla's groin and stomach.

"Oh, she's going to be pissed when we tell her she missed seeing this. Not to mention having missed it going inside her," Diana laughed as she gently cleaned Kayla. "If she had managed to get her hand on your cock, you would have been in her."

"Her wedding night will be a better memory if we wait, though," Jeff tried to reason.

"Bullshit," Arlene said. "She's not a virgin. She's in love with you, and you with her. Why wait? Drill her, Dad."

But by then, Jennie and Melissa had him cleaned up. Joyce, her breasts swaying as she crawled astraddle, wedged her tight pussy onto his shaft, and shrieking, jammed herself downward.

A couple hours later, sheets changed, he had serviced each of his wives. Kayla, awake again, brought Jeff a glass of orange juice, then nestled beside him as he sat leaning against pillows. "I love you," she said, "and I want you inside me."

"It will be better to wait for our wedding night..."

"No, it fucking won't. Oh, I want a wedding night with you. But I've waited long enough. I've lain in my bed at the base and watched your videos — stared at stills of you while I wore out batteries with my vibrator. I want to be your wife; want to stand up in front of everyone and say my vows to you, but I want you inside me right now. I love your tongue and your hands, but I want your cock. Please don't make me beg."

Jeff glanced around at the expressions on the faces of his wives. He would bet this was planned. He had thought he would only please Kayla with his mouth and fingers, and he had thought his wives agreed, other than Arlene, but none of them had actually said it aloud — nor had his Queen. Well, waiting for the wedding night wasn't set in stone, anyway. He drained the last of his juice as Kayla did the same with hers. Arlene took the glasses and put them on the bedside table. Smiling, he slid down in bed until he was resting on his side. With a sensuous wiggle, Kayla was beside him, the tips of her breasts barely touching his chest.

Gently, he pressed his lips to hers, then moved his mouth down to suckle her breasts for a moment. "I don't need any more preliminary. You've 'preliminaried' me unconscious twice already," she giggle, "Just make me yours forever."

Rolling to her back, she spread her legs for him. As he moved to mount her, his Queen guided him. His cock pushed Kayla's pussylips apart as he looked into her eyes, their faces only inches apart. "I love you Kayla. I love you with all my heart."

Just as she started to say something, he eased his cock forward. Whatever she had meant to say was whisked from her mind as her dreams suddenly became real.



-------

Chapter 67

Susan lay in her bed, her clitoral vibrator beside her. To say that she had mixed emotions was an understatement. Having Jeff walk up behind her in the living room while her emotions were in such turmoil, then hold her and kiss her after what the General had talked about and shown on the big screen, was almost more than her mind could process. She didn't know whether to cry, get pissed, or spread her legs for Jeff, as Diana had so delicately described the sexual act, she sarcastically thought.

She didn't know why the General had done his little show-and-tell, but he had seemed to have gotten a charge out of it. Susan reached for the remote and turned the lights down, but she knew she wouldn't sleep.



I can't get over how those "helmet cams" as the General called them, could produce quality images like that. The cameras have to be small — tiny even — but the videos were every bit as sharp as any hi-res movie or TV show I've ever seen. And that — thing — seemed to almost jump off the screen with its suddenness when it attacked. And the sound — you were just there. I didn't know we had technology like that. The lettering on the bottom of the screen gave the person's name and rank. How can Jeff, or any of them for that matter, concentrate with all that information projected on the inside of their visors like that? Well, I guess it's projected. One of those heads-up displays; HUDs, I think they call them. Then again, maybe the visor is something like a computer screen that they can also see through, but I figured out that all those red dots overlain on the visor represented Jeff's team. And one set of numbers had to be a compass direction, but that's about all I could make any sense of.

But I know that was Jeff long before his promotion. The bottom of the screen had Maj. J. Matthews, with the date and time beside it. It was obvious that Jeff saved that man's life ... and it had to be on another world, like the General said. Everything looked so odd. All the foliage there was a blue/green that didn't look — natural. It was almost solid in places, just thick — bushes I guess you could call them — interspersed with little clearings. The man in front of Jeff, one of his team, was wearing that weird-looking outfit — I guess they all were. He was moving forward, hunched over, everything so quiet. Then suddenly, you could see Jeff's foot reach out and shove the man at the same time someone — something — rose up and ... fired his weapon, I guess the expression is. It was loud. The bushes near the man who Jeff pushed down, were riddled with holes. Jeff's rifle gave a loud burp sound and the thing went down on its back, holes in its body leaking something that had to be its blood.

The man who Jeff pushed down also spun and fired his weapon; he was way too late, though. But for Jeff, the man would have been dead. The General told us that the race of beings used that creature and others like it as their version of suicide bombers. They would hide in wait, using a camouflage suit that would mimic its surroundings, making it almost impossible to detect them. The suits gave off no heat signature, or anything else our equipment could use to warn of the alien's presence. Once the aliens realized we were on-planet, they would airdrop many of these hide-and-wait teams all over the area where our portal showed up. Although they invariably died themselves, they could bring havoc to a team. Afterward, the only comment from the man almost killed was a quiet, "Thanks, Major."

Jeff's response was a single click of his mike button that most of us in the living room didn't even pick up on until the General mentioned it. When that creature had fired its weapon, and Jeff had returned fire at almost the same instant, I, and I guess everybody there, had screamed or at least jumped as that torrent of sound hit us and that ... thing fired his weapon almost straight at us — or at least it seemed that way as we looked at that big screen. The sudden roar of those weapons with the sound turned up in that quiet room, and with that big screen, made it seem almost as if we were right there with Jeff. The effect was very impressive, indeed. I can well imagine that Whitworth is still chuckling over scaring the shit out of all of us.

The team went on as if nothing had happened. Later, the scene had shifted to another perspective, this time from one of Jeff's team members. The date and time had shifted forward a couple of months. Bushes and leaves slapped against his visor as the man rushed toward something. His visor showed a grouping of red dots, similar to what Jeff's had shown, but there were fewer of the numbers on the sides as well as other information in his display. One thing was there, though, that had not been on Jeff's display. A slightly larger gold dot. Even I could tell that the man was trying to get to where the person represented by the gold dot was.

The man — well I thought she was a man — but later I found out she was one of the females — was firing her weapon before I could even see the enemy she was shooting at. But I saw them fall when she shot. The General stopped the vid for a moment and said that the woman had been sent out on a flanking maneuver, but the enemy had attacked in force just before she had managed to get into position. Because Jeff was being attacked and due to the noise of the gunfire, she broke silence, according to the General; she was still deadly quiet as far as I could tell, and rushed to the attack before Jeff and the other members of the team directly with him could be overwhelmed. She had caught the enemy by surprise, and with the help of the flanker on the other side, Jeff's crew had decimated them in minutes.

Jeff's, "Thanks guys. You saved our asses," was only answered by two distinct clicks before the team moved on.

I remember that Whitworth stopped the presentation and told us that his physicists had learned to detect other planets. He said it was still a lengthy process, but the destination was no longer a more-or-less random event the way it was in the beginning. He told us they had been able to retrieve several items and substances that have already made the whole project worthwhile. The planet where we just saw Colonel Matthews fighting those beings has a plant with sap that enhanced healing. He told us it certainly wasn't in the same category as Little One, but bones that would take five or six weeks to heal, now take a week or so. Infections heal overnight. Other things as well. Unfortunately, the plant defies synthesization, though. We can duplicate its sap, but the synthesized product doesn't have any healing abilities. This planet, as is true far too much of the time according to the General, also attracts another race. A race that isn't amicable to ours, to put it mildly.

The General assured us that we were not trying to depose the race that originated on the planet. He said it was quite obvious that they have been subjugated by this invading race. At first, we were getting along fine with the planetary race, but then the bad boys showed up. The General's people think the aliens have a way to detect our portal, for they eventually find us, and they "come shooting." He said we are limited by the size of the opening of the portal, the amount of people and equipment we can transmit at one time, and frequently we were unable to put the portal down in certain areas. The missions have become costly in lives and equipment, yet the rewards from both materials and knowledge prevent us from closing down the project. Not only are the stars open to us because of the portal, but so also are the dimensions — both to a limited degree, of course. Although still in our infancy, with our baby steps, we continue to totter forward and learn. But should this information get out, he thinks the naysayers would shut down the project. At best,  the program would be run by a committee of politicians. He thinks we would be NASA all over again — constant meetings and useless bickering, with a massive budget, but going nowhere. He said that would never happen as long as there was a breath left in his body.

I remember the General looking around at all of us and asking, "Should we pull back, stick our heads in the sand and pretend there is nothing or no one out there, as I'm sure the naysayers would want? We're using every precaution we can think of to protect our location, and indeed, we are a very, very long way from the planets we are beginning to explore, but there are no absolutes that say we will never be found — even if we give up this project. We know for a fact that at least some of these beings have star travel, although so far we haven't found anything to indicate that any of them have the portal technology, except ... this:"

That big screen had blanked for a second, then gradually faded into a shot of the inside of the giant mountain hanger at the base, and of the ship sitting there looking vaguely like a great bird of prey. The dark gray shape flowed from one section to another, a faint shimmer seemed to keep the ship just slightly out of focus. It reeked of alien. I remember a collective hiss in the living room as on the screen someone stepped off the ramp and onto the floor of the hanger — the person suddenly giving perspective to the vast size of the ship.

"Oh, shit," Dave had sighed into the silence.



After a moment for the alienness of the ship to sink in, the General said, "And the only man on the face of this Earth who can sit in that command chair and talk to the ship without going insane is here in the basement of this fabulous building right now, working out, or playing with the ideas of his next invention. I can't tempt him with money; he has tons of it. I can't tempt him with women — for obvious reasons," he chuckled, looking around at Jeff's harem. "So our inter-dimensional starship sits in her berth with our scientists running in and out of her pretending to be doing something constructive. And ... we have learned some few things. One of which is that the ship is bigger on the inside than on the outside. And ... the inside isn't always the same." He finished with, "I'm beginning to think the damned thing has a sense of humor and is just plain messing with us."

I'm not sure what he meant by that,  Susan mused. How could something be bigger on the inside than the outside? What did he mean by it not being always the same?

Susan got up from her restless tossing and walked into the sitting room. Opening the small refrigerator, she took out a bottle of water, opened it and took a sip. Back in the bedroom, she sat on the side of the bed, took a long drink from the bottle, then set it on a coaster on the bedside table. Her body felt hot; her skin sensitive. I can still feel Jeff's arms around me, feel his mouth on mine. How can he want me? She turned the lights up and went to stand in front of the mirror. He's right. I look no more than thirty. But I'm his mother-in-law for goodness sake. He's my daughter's husband. I can't have sex with her husband! But he's already having sex with my granddaughter. Soon he will be doing it with my adopted granddaughters, too.

Frustrated, her thoughts continued anyway. I almost came when he kissed me. Diana says it's pheromones, and Jeff mentioned them. I can feel them, now that I know he's doing it, when he kisses me, but there's more than just that. Oh, shit, I'm falling in love with him. This can't be. I've hated him too long. Well, at least, hated what he did to my daughter,  she amended, vacillating. Oh, shit, I'm screwed up,  she thought as she turned away from the image of a young woman in the mirror, high jutting breasts, prominent cheek bones, long hair almost to her waist. Hair that had returned to its earlier youthful vibrance, but with that sheen also came an ache between her legs, an ache more intense than she could remember. Her sex drive had always been high, but if this was what Jeff's wives were feeling, there was no wonder they would spread their legs for him, "in a heartbeat, " as Arlene had put it, giggling. That's when Diana told us about Jeff ordering the family to exit the highway just before a bad accident. And I remember something similar happening when Arlene was little, which prompted my husband to tell me to always obey Jeff in an emergency. That sometimes some people just knew."

Susan took another drink of the water, capped the bottle and returned it to the table. Sighing, she turned the lights down and stretched out on the bed again. After five minutes of staring toward the ceiling without any feeling of drowsiness, she brightened the lights and picked up her book. Positioning her pillows so she was in a partial sitting position, she found her place and tried to get into the world of the book. That lasted for two paragraphs. Again her thoughts shifted to the meeting in the living room with the General. This time it was Kayla narrating. She told us about some of the things Colonel Matthews, as she had referred to him, had done, things that had called the General's attention to him, yet again. Eventually, a study of Jeff's decisions while in combat, or just during everyday exploration, had prompted some of those decisions and strategies to be required study at the base's academy. Some of the decisions and strategies were pure logic; others were something entirely different. The logic could be taught, the other — not. Still, the study was fascinating.

Kayla had triggered the remote and once again we all watched virtually through Jeff's eyes as he and his team jogged along. Jeff slowed and two of his men hurried by bearing a stretcher. There was a glimpse of a team member's blood-soaked side, then Jeff jogged beside them for a moment as he looked down at his companion on the stretcher. I realized that the person's name and rank joined the data on Jeff's visor as he stared at the man. I could tell little about him due to his helmet and visor obscuring his face, but I could again see the bloodied side of his combat outfit.

Suddenly, Jeff hissed out quiet, code-shortened commands that Kayla had to interpret for us. "He just called his point person back two hundred meters and changed her course as well as the team's. He set a new heading of two hundred and seventy-three degrees for the team with a rendezvous with the point in a half kilometer. We've gone over everything Jeff's helmet recorded, many times, as well as everything from the team's helmets. There was no detectable reason to alter course — none. Yet minutes later, they altered course again, then he broke the team into three parts to flank and hit the enemy from behind and from the sides. The enemy was waiting in ambush, expecting the team to come this way. But somehow Jeff realized they were there. A bloodbath for his team turned into a bloodbath for the enemy. An hour later, he cycled through the portal with his whole team, the only casualty the one wounded team member, who was out of the hospital in a week, thanks to the plant that General Whitworth talked about."

She remembered that Kayla had gone on after a pause. "Colonel Matthews says those 'feelings' usually only happen during combat or high stress. And he says they aren't one hundred percent, but they happen enough that he will always go by his 'hunches.' His sergeant says that hearing Jeff say, 'I have a hunch, ' will get absolute undivided attention from his team. To them, it's 'written on the rock' when Jeff has a hunch."

Susan put the useless book down, turned the lights to a low setting and made herself comfortable. Feeling somehow guilty, she moved her hand around until she found the vibrator where she had pushed it aside earlier, turned it to a low setting and put it against her panty-covered pussy. She brought back the feeling of being in her son-in-law's arms; how his mouth felt on hers. By the time she eased the vibrator up to touch her clit, her world rocked to an astonishingly intense orgasm that went on for a long time. Afterward, she fumbled the vibrator off and was asleep in seconds.

Susan awoke to Arlene shaking her shoulder. Groggily she looked into her granddaughter's laughing eyes.

"We got worried when you didn't show up to help with breakfast, so I came to check on you."

Only then did Susan realize that the sheet was down below her groin and her vibrator was still lying on her pussy. Mortified, she started to stammer out something, when Arlene giggled and said, "That's a good one. I have one just like it. Dad said he kissed you last night. Bet you were thinking about that when you used your little friend, huh?"

Susan felt as if her whole body blushed.

"Better hurry and get dressed. Not that you don't look good the way you are, but the guys' tongues would fall out of their mouths if you walked into the kitchen like that," she laughed. "And don't get embarrassed about it. I have two almost identical to that great looking breast," she finished, nodding toward Susan's exposed boob. "I bet my dad would love to suck on that nipple, too," she added, just to see Susan blush again.

In a flash, Arlene leaned over and lightly touched her lips to Susan's, at the same time, running a fingertip gently across the exposed nipple. At Susan's shudder and sputtered protest, Arlene laughed and was quickly out the door.

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA

Doctor Harris and his ex-wife, Betty, walked into the room. As Betty's eyes met Fred's, she blushed prettily.

"Well ... you two are out early, Doc. I thought you said one of the perks of a Hospitalist was being off on the weekends."

The doctor chuckled as he ushered Betty closer to the group. "Wouldn't you know that Doctor Castlewood would pick this weekend to want off?"

"Murphy," Fred laughed as he stood to introduce Betty to Jessica and Audrey. After the women had all hugged, "Well, can we assume that everything is okay between you two..." Fred started, but Betty suddenly launched herself at him. Throwing her arms around him, she hugged him as tears rolled down her cheeks, thanks tumbling from her over and over.

"Whoa, Girl," Fred said. "If thanks go to anyone, it's Lieutenant Dodson and his wife. He's the one who started this. We're just glad everything turned out all right."

"And, I see our fair lady is sitting up this morning," Doctor Harris said as he turned to Brenda, who was sitting on the side of the bed.

"T-hanks for having them t-ake that cat-heter out. The nurse hel-ped me to the bath-room a few minutes ago."

"Your speech is better also," Harris said as he stepped around her and put his stethoscope to her back. "Breathe deep ... again ... again." Moving around to her front, he told her to breathe normally while he listened to several more places before taking her pulse.

"Well, Ms. Gor..."

"Mrs. Wilson," Brenda interrupted. "I may be in the wrong body, but I'm still Brenda Wilson," she said with a tinge of anger underlining her words, and this time there was no stammer.

Doctor Harris almost laughed aloud despite desperately trying to hold it in. "I apologize, Mrs. Wilson. I had just been checking your chart with the Gordon name on it, and I guess I'm a little slow this morning. You see, I got my wife back last night, due to your husband and a certain county lieutenant I know."

"I know, and she's pre-tty," Brenda said, smiling.

Doctor Harris turned to his ex-wife. "Brenda Wilson, this is my wife Betty. Betty, my most unusual patient, ever, Mrs. Brenda Wilson."

"I've heard a lot about you, Brenda."

"Same here," Brenda laughed. "We all wish you two well."

After an embarrassing moment, Brenda turned back to the doctor. A frown passed over her pretty face, then, "I do miss running a-round in Fred's mind, t-hough," she tried to joke, but she was also serious. "But now I'll get to be his wife again, not just some spiri-t tucked into a corner of his psy-che, or something. Oh, dammit, I'm tired of this stam-mering," she grumbled. "Am I going to li-ve, Doctor?" she added with a strong touch of sarcasm.

"BP's 110 over 60. Pulse is 56 and your heart is strong. Temp is normal. Your lungs are clear. Your blood work came back with everything as it should be. As far as I can tell, your body is in perfect health. But I've only been the observer through all this. Why don't you tell me," he laughed.

Brenda sat quiet for a second. "I want to get out of here. I want to be a wife to my husband..."

"I can relate to that," Betty said quietly.

Harris moved the couple of steps to stand beside his wife, putting an arm around her, but turned back to Brenda. "I want the neurologist to come by and talk to you for a minute. I ... guess I want to rub his nose in it a little after our ... rather intense discussion. What say, you spend one more night with us and I'll sign you out on my rounds in the morning?"

Brenda came slowly to her feet, one hand on the bed to steady herself. Looking at Betty, she asked, "Could I please hug your husband?"

Betty smiled back at her. "Be my guest."

Brenda took a step and Harris took several quick ones so she wouldn't have to walk far. "Thank you, Doctor," she said as she hugged herself to him.

After a moment, Harris pulled back and looked down at her, his hands still on her shoulders to steady her. "Whatever happened, I had little to do with your recovery, or..."

"Transference," Brenda supplied as she looked up at him. "I've spent a lot of time thinking after I first wound up in this body. At first, I could only hear Fred, and even then, he had to be touching me. Things gradually got better and I began to have some control and began to hear, feel and see. But still, I had a lot of time to just think. I fully believe that God put me in this body. But I'm also feeling guilty for ... taking over, I guess you could say, from this young woman, this Pamela Gordon. We know nothing about her, and before you ask, I don't appear to be sharing anything with her. The only mind in here," she said, tapping her forehead, "is mine, as far as I can tell. I haven't noticed any memories that aren't fully mine. But still..."

Doctor Harris, feeling Brenda beginning to tremble a little, helped her back to the bed. After getting her settled, he said, "Lieutenant Dodson has checked out Ms. Gordon as best he could. He said he would come by this morning and talk to you people about what he had found out. So, I'll leave that to him. But as far as feeling guilty about, uh..."

"Taking over her body," Fred supplied.

"Uh, I was trying to put it a little more delicately than that, but yes. Rest assured that Pamela Gordon was brain dead when she came in here. Probably was before her vehicle went into that swamp. That is brain dead. And to repeat what I've told you before, you don't come back from that — not ever. Pamela Gordon was not in this body when we ran our tests. Tests signed off on by myself and the neurologist. You haven't taken over from anyone. That is not an arguable statement. If you believe that God put you in this body, I have no better explanation. Medical science has none. If that's what you believe, I would tell Him thank you, and go on with my life. You have a family who loves you, and a trip waiting for you in a beautiful RV. I would, however, ask that you keep me posted on your condition as it improves. And I fully believe your strength and speech will come back completely. Everything else that has happened to you has defied medical science; I can't imagine that it would suddenly stop and leave you not fully recovered."

Doctor Harris turned to Fred. "Mr. Wilson, I received a call this morning from a very close friend of yours."

"Mark," Fred supplied before Harris could complete the sentence.

"Yes. He just called to tell me he could put me in touch with a number of police and county detectives who would vouch for your ability to determine when a person was lying. Harry had already convinced me when he got all those phone calls when he started to check you out, but listening to that tape made a total believer out of me. I've never heard of anyone who could do this, and I won't insult you by asking how you do it..."

Fred interrupted with, "I don't know myself. I just ... feel the lie. And I've used misdirection for a long time to conceal my ... ability. So please, I need you to..."

"Certainly. No need to ask. No one will hear about it from either Betty or me. You have a gift," Doctor Harris said. "A gift like a twelve-year-old pianist I once went to hear at a concert hall at college, or like a person who can tell you instantly what day of the week any date was on, or will be on. The pianist just plays; the piano is virtually an extension of her mind. Do you have any other talents?"

"Not a frikin' one," Fred laughed, lying through his teeth.

"Ah, but you can mentally talk to your wife if you're touching her."

Fred's grin faltered. "And ... nobody will believe you if you tell them..."

"If I were foolish enough to tell anyone," Harris laughed. "Still, it makes me a little jealous. I wish Betty and I could do that," he finished, looking at his wife with love.

Carla, referring to the glow on Betty's face, said, "I think you two communicated just fine once we got you in the same room."

Harris laughed. "We're going home and take a nap."

"Got called out to the hospital last night?" Fred teased.

Harris chuckled, refusing to answer. Betty blushed again. "See you on rounds late today."

After goodbyes and hugs from the women, Harris and his ex-wife, soon-to-be-wife again, left.

"So," Jessica said, opening a road atlas and putting it on Brenda's lap, "where do you want to go from here?"

-------

Lieutenant Dodson caught up with Doctor Harris and Betty in the physicians' parking lot. "Hold up, Doc," he said, slapping the side of the car just as Harris started backing out of his slot.

Harris slid the window down and Dodson leaned over to talk to them. After greetings and a bit of teasing, Dodson got to the subject. Locking eyes with Betty, he said, "You don't have to worry about Mr. Abbott ever bothering either of you again."

"Oh?" Doc said, perking up.

Dodson grinned. "Yep, he messed with the wrong one. It happened in Cook county Georgia. Seems like a small town cop came home and caught the guy much as you did," he said, locking eyes with Doc. "Well, Abbott must have decided that he wasn't going to risk getting beat up again, so he pulled a gun. Cop shot him stone cold dead. The woman was so out of it that it was obvious she had been drugged. Blood tests came back positive for some type of date rape drug. Guy should have taken up another hobby," he laughed.

Betty broke down with sobs of relief. Doctor Harris pulled back into his slot, shut the car off and took his wife in his arms. After a moment, Harris looked over at Dodson who was still standing beside the car. "You don't know how much we appreciate what you have done..."

"Part of my job, Doc. Part of my job. Now why don't you take this lady home. Give me a call later; I ordered a couple new lures online. We need to give them a try."

-------

There were two rapid knocks on the hospital door. "Come in," everyone called out together, then a little embarrassed they all glanced at each other.

"We-ll, at least we're all in sync," Brenda managed to get out as they laughed.

Lieutenant Dodson came in, and after introductions to those who did not know him, was ushered to a seat. He complimented Brenda for doing so well, then cleared his throat and said, "Uh, Doc said you gave permission to tell me about your wife, Mr. Wilson, and well, I did a little more thorough background check on the former, uh..."

"Former occ-up-ant of this body," Brenda supplied.

"Uh, yeah," Dodson said, momentarily taken aback. Then pushing on, "Ms. Gordon was originally from a small town in Tennessee. She had one conviction for public intoxication a couple years ago. I talked to the officer who arrested her and he pulled the arrest report. He vaguely remembers the arrest. He said it was during a raid on a drug house. As best he could recall, she was just sitting on the front porch stoned out of her gourd. They couldn't just turn her loose; she wasn't in control of her faculties, so they charged her with public intoxication. She didn't have any money, so the judge took the ten days served before court to even things, then turned her loose.

"I couldn't find anything on her mother, but her father is serving life for murder one. I couldn't find anything more about Pamela until she showed up in this area, mostly hanging around various dope houses. Couple city cops I know said she had been going downhill, meaning her drug use was increasing and her health was going. Next thing we know, she's in the swamp and you guys are pulling her out. She has no other kin that I can find, and oddly enough, she still has a valid driver's license listing her address in Tennessee — about the only thing of any value in her purse."

"So there's no reason Brenda can't leave here and go with us?" Fred said.

"Not as far as the law is concerned."

Fred looked around at his women. "We're due to break out of here sometime in the morning. I've talked to Doc and his wife, and he's agreeable. Do you think you and your wife could get off from work long enough to meet us at the steak place down the street tomorrow for lunch. We would just like to say thank you for what you, your wife and Doc have done."

"No thanks necessary, but we sure won't turn down a free steak," Dodson laughed. "How about noon?" he said, standing.

"Great. Meet you at Ann's then."



-------

Chapter 68


SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 13

HOSPITAL IN FLORIDA

Brenda, wearing a fresh pair of pajamas, walked back into the room, her hair wrapped in a towel — her face flushed. A moment later, Fred also came out of the bathroom as he vigorously rubbed a small towel through his hair — he was fully dressed in tee shirt and jeans, although still barefoot.

"They don't have enough towels in there," he professed to no one in particular, his voice bordering on the grumpy side.

"Sounds like someone didn't get his rocks off," Carla laughed.

"He let me play with it a little bit, but when I bent over, all he would do was kiss my pussy, so not getting off is his own fault," Brenda giggled. "He wouldn't shove that marvel-ous cock in me. It's like he thinks I'll break, or some-thing," Brenda said, her speech somewhat slowed, her diction careful, but mostly stammer free.

"I want to make love to you for our first time in your new body. I don't want a quickie in a hospital bathroom to remember for our first time," Fred tried to reason.

Brenda sat on the bed and plugged the hair dryer in. "Bull. We've made love for years. I wanted to try out this new body. He's gone all wim-py on me," Brenda finished as she grinned at the other women.

Fred stood combing his hair. Carla looked over at him with love in her eyes, but teased, "Ah, he's that way sometimes. Just when you want your brains fucked out, he decides to love you to death, instead. I don't know what we're going to do with him," she teased.

Seating himself on the side of the bed, Fred began to don his socks and shoes. Brenda turned the hair dryer on, almost drowning out her words. "I know what we're going to do when I get him in that RV, though."

Fred reached over and turned the hair dryer off for a second. "Doc said we would be last on his morning rounds. Then Carla has to settle up with the billing department after he signs you out. We have several hours yet." Glancing at his watch, "Hell, it's only six thirty. It's bound to be ten or so before we get out of this place. And besides, you don't have all your strength back yet."

Brenda turned to lock eyes with him. "Bull. This body isn't quite one hundred percent, yet, but you can bet I'm going into that restaurant with a pussy full of sperm, anyway," she said, pushing the switch on the dryer.

"But Baby," Fred tried to emphatically say over the noise, "this body isn't on birth control. No telling where you are in your cycle. You could be fertile..."

"You pays your money and you takes your chances," she singsonged in a parody of something that Fred didn't pick up on. "And you damn sure paid enough on this body," she laughed as Audrey took the hair dryer from her and began helping to dry her hair.

Fred gave up trying to talk over the whine of the dryer, and went looking for some coffee at the nurses' station. The women looked at each other and laughed.

-------

Ellen and Barbara (the General's wives) had tried to help with breakfast and talk to Diana at the same time. Laughing, Diana pulled them aside as the almost-machine that the retreat women had become, put breakfast on the steam table while they joked and had a great time. "How do they do that?" Ellen asked as Melissa grabbed two platters that had just been filled by Jennie and Ann an instant before, spun and walked between Helen and Laura who were going in opposite directions. None of them broke stride or seemed to even take notice of what should have been considered a very near miss.

"Oh, if you were here very long, you two would be doing it. I think it has something to do with being an Alpha's wife. We very quickly learn to work together."

"But ... none of you really say anything about what you're doing. I mean, you talk, but about other things. It's like it's all orchestrated or something."

"It's not," Diana laughed. "We agree on what we're going to fix, and with breakfast, there's the usual assortment, unless we decide to add something new. Then we just come in and do whatever is necessary to get it done."

"So you always do the same thing then?" Barbara asked.

Diana chuckled. "Goodness no. That would be boring. Someone would get stuck with peeling potatoes every day, or worse if we use the big peeler — having to clean the thing. Or we would get tired of something else. No, we usually do a different part of the preparation each day."

"But how do you decide what each is to do? We've been here several times when all of you just come in and abruptly start doing things to prepare a meal like it's been planned out and ... almost choreographed."

"It's ... complicated, and it's not. We just do it. We know what everyone else is doing — is going to do as soon as we walk in here. We have ... I guess you could say, bonded. And it doesn't just apply to my sister-wives; Dave's wives work with us the same way, and so do Bill's. Margaret fits right in there with us, too. And if you two stayed with us a while, I think you would shortly be able to do it just like us, since your husband is an enhanced Alpha also. It's no big deal. It's how things ... should be as far as we're concerned. It's part of being an Alpha's wife."

Barbara smiled at Diana. "It's just another of the many things that have happened in the last couple of days that makes us want to stay."

"How long you stay is entirely up to you two and your husband. You're always welcome here to visit or stay as long as you like. Your husband is an Alpha. You're all family. You don't need an invitation. Just come home any time you can."

Barbara fought back tears, and Ellen didn't even try. "Ellen and my husband would be planning my funeral by now if we hadn't gotten here when we did. You have no idea how that humbles me. I..."

Diana encircled her in her arms. "Hush. You're alive and well. According to Little One, the three of you will live for a long, long time — all of us will. We'll have many years together, so this isn't goodbye this morning, and I expect frequent phone calls at the very least. And frequent visits. So don't let your husband say he's too busy to come see us."

-------

Jeff and the General relaxed in the sitting room of the suite while Diana, Arlene and Laura helped Ellen and Barbara pack.

Jeff refreshed the General's coffee, then after refilling his own cup, put the insulated carafe back on the cart. "I hate to see you go so soon."

"Yeah, and I hate to go, but there are pressing problems that I need to take care of. Very pressing problems. And if things happen the way I expect they will, I'll soon be certain of my leak. Be assured that the leak will be permanently plugged," he grimly finished.

"Something I can help with?" Jeff heard himself say before his mind could catch up with his mouth.

Whitworth sighed. "No. I'm not quite there yet, but when I am, it's fucking going to be a permanent solution. You can bet your ass on that."

Jeff wanted to know more, but it was obvious that the General didn't want to tell him right now.

Whitworth took a big gulp of the hot coffee, making Jeff inwardly flinch. "You mentioned someone who is part of the family, but is not here now..."

"Yeah, Fred. He was my mentor. He's also an Alpha. He and his women are in Florida for a couple weeks. Long story that I'll tell you about when you have more time."

"You want to tell him about things?"

"Yeah, I hate to keep Little One a secret from him. Not only is he family, but he has done some things for me in the past..."

"If you say it, it's good enough. If I leave the equipment with you, do you have a secure place to keep it?"

"I have the walk-in safe that is in the pantry off the kitchen. The whole kitchen area is part of our safe room in case of trouble."

The General looked a question.

"The entire area is steel-walled. All we have to do is hit one button and steel doors slide out of the door jams and lock deep in the walls. Both the door to the hallway and the door on the side of the kitchen to the dining area will secure in seconds. Floors, ceiling, and walls conceal heavy armor. One of Wainwright's ideas. He had money to burn, so he made the thing like a vault."

"If it's sealed that tight, how long before you run out of air?"

"Piped in underground from two separate sources. As long as there's power feeding the grid, we'll have air. And the backups have backups."

"I suppose, knowing you, that you have practiced."

"Many times. And there are numerous ways to set off the signal for everyone to head there."

"What about communication?"

"Sitting behind a panel in the kitchen, I have a satellite phone, one of your secure SAT phones and one of your radios, all hooked up to an outside antenna on the roof, and even the antenna is hidden."

Whitworth drained his cup and stood. Grabbing up a case, he said, "Let's go. Not that I doubt you, of course, but I want to see this secured in that safe before I go. I only have two of these portable units. This blocking technology is something I damn sure don't want to risk getting in the hands of some fucking politician, but I also want you to have use of it when you need it. I'll pick the unit up the next time I'm here."

-------

Later, Diana and Jeff sat in one of the Escalades near the helipad watching the General's helicopter as it faded into the distance over the mountain. Turning to her husband, "That visit certainly didn't go down the way I would have expected. I really like Ellen and Barbara. And I guess I like the General — at least a little bit. Well, after his presentation, anyway. I've disliked him for years without even specifically knowing he existed," she mused. "I hated your being away from me, and I knew you were going on some kind of mission from time to time, especially when we were in the military. I even suspected a time or two when you were supposedly out doing something with your engineering abilities..."

"Di, much of the time I was working. I didn't go on that many missions off-planet. Well ... not too many, anyway."

"Jeff Matthews, you do a lot of things well — really well — but lying is not one of them, at least to me."

Jeff dropped the Escalade into gear and started toward the inside garage. "So what are we going to do the rest of the day? I suppose you and Margaret will be cloistered somewhere while you help her plan the wedding?" Jeff asked, trying to change the subject.

Diana let him get away with it, but gave him an innocent smile as she reached over to gently cup his groin. "Sure, I'll help her, right after you top me off. I'm a little low on sperm."

"I thought you said you were sore this morning," he laughed, hitting the button on the garage door opener as they neared.

"That was a couple hours ago. We heal quickly now that Little One has enhanced us. Walking funny doesn't last as long any more," she joked. "Now I've tried to keep my emotions down, so if we stop in one of the rooms on this end of the hallway, I should have that marvelous cock in my pussy before the rest of your wives notice what's going on."

"From behind this time with you on your hands and knees," Jeff said as he brought the SUV to a halt and pressed the button to close the big door.

"Just as long as you do me hard. Throw me down and rape me. Pound my womb," she said as she jumped out and ran for the stairs. She had a good thirty feet on him before he had gotten clear of the Escalade. Grinning, he took the steps four at a time. "You had better run," he yelled, laughing. "That pussy is going to be sore in a few minutes."

At the top of the stairs, he hesitated for a few seconds to let her gain ground again, then jerked the door open and charged down the hallway.

A little later, Susan and Arlene were sitting on Susan's bed talking, when Arlene suddenly leaned forward, hissed in a breath and whined, "Oh, shit," before collapsing back on the bed breathing hard a good half-minute later.

Susan knew what was going on, and it had been obvious that Arlene had been fighting to act normal before the orgasm overwhelmed her, but it was still hard to believe that her granddaughter could tell when any of her sister-wives had an orgasm.

"You okay?" Susan asked the panting girl.

"Yeah," Arlene croaked. "She had a bunch, but that one was mind-boggling. I couldn't hold it off, and just went with her. Usually we have to be touching to feel it that strong, though."

"All of you can do this?" Susan said, incredulity creeping into her voice despite her best efforts.

"Yeah, but like I said, usually we have to be touching to feel it that strong. Mom must have really blown a gasket that time," she giggled.

Susan just stared at her granddaughter, wondering.

-------

THE TETONS

The big pickup, with its monster mudders spinning, clawed its way up the steep ice-covered incline.

Guterrez tightened his grip on the grab handle that had been installed to help get into the high truck. "Shit! I don't remember this hill being iced over when we came up here last time. Stay away from this fucking edge," he hissed, looking down the side of the mountain.

"Well, I'm fucking trying," Vasquez snarled. "This fucker works great on snow, but it jigs all over the place on this ice."

A couple minutes later, they crested the sharp incline and were in deep snow again. Both breathed a quiet sigh of relief, but wouldn't admit it to the other.

Guterrez looked over at his boss. "I don't like this."

"Ah, that's the worst of it. The rest of the trip isn't as steep, and we cut that tree up and moved it out of the way last time, so we won't have to contend with that."

"Nah, I'm not talking about this fucking mountain. I'm talking about this fucking mission we go on tomorrow."

"Well, shit happens. The money is good, and we don't have anything coming in right now."

Guterrez stared out the window for a moment, then, "You got any more clues who this guy is?"

"Well, I actually talked to him yesterday, instead of his flunky, but he had a voice synthesizer on the phone. From the way he talks though, I'd just about bet he's a politician — probably pretty high up, too."

"Fuck, that's even worse. What does a fucking politician know about how we should do this?"

"Most of the people we work for are politicians — at least in the broader sense of the term. But you're right. I almost backed out."

Guterrez snarled over at his partner. "Guy has money — this Matthews, I mean. We already know he has trained his women to shoot. We should go in from a helicopter with twenty of us. With full equipment. Overwhelm them before they know what's happening."

"Yeah, and it would be headline news by tomorrow night. Guy says no more than six, and the Hagewoods are two of the six. Shit, six is all we can get in the van, anyway. And with the crap to keep our heat signature down so that fucking security system won't detect the extra people in the van, plus the cleaning equipment, we're going to be packed in there like sardines in a can, anyway. And with that big fucker..."

Pulling out a thin cigar, Guterrez lit it, trying to get his mind off the drop that seemed to always be on his side of the vehicle.

"Crack the fucking window. Those things smell like a dog pissed on them."

Guterrez rolled the window down a couple inches, but otherwise ignored Vasquez's comment. "Those two shitheads won't be any help to us. And faking those idiots and Matthews killing each other is going to be pushing things."

Vasquez took his eyes off his driving long enough to glance at his buddy. "We shoot Matthews and the Hagewoods with each other's guns, then torch the place. Won't be enough left to matter by the time the fire department gets there — if they even get there. Shit, the nearest one has to be twenty miles away, maybe farther. And there is still that fucking driveway. I'll bet a big fire rig would have a hell of a time getting up that thing."

"I don't know. But we do know there are guns all over the place. We've found a couple hidden around."

"Ah, come on. They're fucking women. So, he taught them to shoot — big deal. You, of all people, know that teaching someone to shoot is one hell of a lot different to someone being combat trained. What about that guy? What the fuck was his name?"

"Keyser."

"Yeah, Keyser. Quick as shit. Shot better than any of us. Froze the fuck up on his first mission and got his guts blown out on the ground without getting a shot off. Four of us can damn sure take a dozen civilian women. When our guns come out, they'll shit and start screaming instead of reacting. When we're ready to leave we will herd them into a room, gas them with sleeping gas, then torch the place. The gas will be undetectable, and besides, it will look like they got trapped in there and died from smoke inhalation. These two fuckheads up ahead want to get their rocks off into that mother and daughter so bad they can't seem to talk about anything else. While they keep those two occupied, we'll take care of the rest."

They rode on in silence for a while as both men were lost in their thoughts, then Guterrez took a last pull on the cigar and threw it out the window. "Well, at least the fucker finally said what we were going after, not that it helps a whole lot. Some damn, trans ... something you said..."

"Translucent."

"'Translucent' thing about the size of a book. And what the fuck is 'translucent, ' anyway?"

"Can't quite see through it. And we get the disk drives to all the computers, especially the ones in Matthews' lab. And this other thing is supposed to be some type of healer, or something. Matthews is supposed to keep it in a drawer in his office, the guy thinks."

"Office? Where in the fuck is his office?"

"I suppose in his lab. We know the lab is in the basement. Shouldn't be that hard to find. I never did manage to get down there. One of the women, or Matthews, always seems to be watching us. No matter where I go or what I'm doing, one of them is there. Every time I came up with an excuse to go in that end where they live, or down to the basement, they nixed it. I've told this politician, or whoever the fuck he is, that we don't have enough information yet and need to put out sensors in the building, but he says he thinks Matthews has a way of detecting them. Also, Matthews is going to move in a whole shitload of security soon, so we have to move our timetable up — way up. Said there's going to be black ops troops there shortly who will be hell-bent on protecting Matthews. This next invention of his is supposed to be worth billions."

"How did a black ops outfit get involved in this? Who the fuck is Matthews, anyway? I'm telling you this whole fucking thing stinks. That fucking politician will leave our asses swinging in the wind if he gets a chance," Guterrez grumbled.

"Well, who says I'm going to just turn this healer thing and those disk drives over to him? Mr. Politician is going to come up with some serious money before he gets his hands on them. He's a fucking politician for crying out loud; he's supposed to lie. That's what he does for a living. And yeah, he's damn sure not telling us everything. That thing, whatever it is, is worth a fucking whole lot of money. It's not exactly what he says; it's what he doesn't say about this thing. What if Matthews has invented some sort of fountain of youth, or something? His wife looks too fucking young to have a daughter Arlene's age. Maybe Matthews has already used this thing on them. Come to think about it, all of them look so fucking healthy you can almost feel it."

Vasquez drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought, then continued with, "Yeah, that makes sense. It's something to make you young. We're going to be sitting on a gold mine. We'll get the thing alright. But we damn sure aren't going to turn it over to that arrogant asshole I talked to on the phone, nor his flunky, either. Not without knowing what we have first — and some serious money. There are plenty of other people who will pay a fortune for something that makes you young. A fucking fortune."

"What about the whores? You going to pop them, or put them on a plane like you said?"

Vasquez chuckled. "You know, I kind of like those two. They stand on their own two feet. We made sure to never say anything in front of them. Five miles down the mountain, we trigger the incendiaries and torch the cabin. Won't be a trace of us being there left. Nah, I think I'll give the whores what I said, and put them on a plane to Miami or wherever the fuck they said they wanted to go. Although, I can't see why in the fuck they would want to go to Miami. But the Hagewoods will be dead. So there won't be anyone around who has seen the whores and us together. Never did like killing women unless I had to. Besides, it would be a shame to kill that good pussy, if we don't need to. We sure have to kill enough of it at the Matthews' place, anyway. But the money makes it worth it. We can get pussy anywhere."

"I'd like to have another shot at the whores before we put them on that plane. Think we'll have time?"

"Yeah. I'd like to get my rocks off, too. But we'll be short on sleep when we show up at the Matthews' place tomorrow. Good thing we got an early start today."

"Won't be the first time we've been short on sleep, but that motherfucker should have let us know a couple days ago if it just has to go down tomorrow."

"Got that right."

-------

Later on the way back down the mountain, Vasquez stopped the truck, and he and Guterrez got out after telling the others to stay in the vehicle. Walking a few steps from the truck, the men stopped. Vasquez looked at his buddy, said, "Do it."

Guterrez pressed the button.

"I hope the fucking signal reached."

"Have I ever failed us?" Guterrez said, his voice tight. "Could have set them off at twice this distance. And I put out four of them. That place will be toast in thirty minutes. One hell of a way to wipe out our trace."

Vasquez stood looking around at the majestic mountains, but his mind was elsewhere. "Got to swap this truck for our SUV, then drop the whores off at the airport. If it wasn't for that big fucker, we could have flown out of Jackson Hole, but even assuming he would fit in a seat, or two seats as the case may be, everybody would remember that monster. We'll just swap out drivers and drive straight back to Denver, check in with the company, pick up the cleaning van and finish this mission."

"I still wish this one was done," Guterrez worried. "That fucking politician could double cross us. We need to really be careful when we leave that mountain tomorrow. He could be setting us up."

"Yeah, I've thought of that. We're not going back to that motel. We'll meet the guys and get the job done. I'll pay them off when we leave the Matthews' place, and we'll get our asses gone. We'll contact the politician after we let him sweat awhile. Do him good. I'll drive to Jackson. After we drop the whores off, you can drive for a few hours while I catch a nap. Let's roll."

-------

FLORIDA

Fred pulled under the roofed area by the side door of the hospital where they told him to pick up Brenda. Somehow nervous, he got out to open the right door of the PT Cruiser as his women all came out with a nurse pushing Brenda in a wheel chair. Fred smiled as he thought of the nurse's laughing comment a few minutes ago. "You may walk in here for treatment, but you'll ride out in a wheel chair." He had decided to leave the room and go get the Cruiser when an endless-seeming line of nurses started filing in to give Brenda a hug and their best wishes. Of course, most of them called her Pamela or Ms. Gordon, but they got the job done anyway.

The nurse assisted Brenda into the vehicle — whether she needed it or not — and with one last hug, they were ready to go. Short trip. They circled the hospital and pulled up next to the RV in the back lot. Brenda quickly got out before anyone could offer to help her. But Fred walked around the front of the Cruiser and flicked Brenda into his arms as Jessica hit the remote door lock to the RV for them.

Carla smiled at them. "We'll see you two at 11:30. I want to look around the town a little more, and we need some groceries."

Brenda tried to stop Fred as he put his foot on the step. "Wait. Wait. I want our first time to be with all of us..."

But the car doors were slamming as the women got in, all of them giggling, and Fred's mouth was descending onto Brenda's. He lurched through the door and toward the bedroom, his mouth locked to his wife's.



-------

Chapter 69

ANN'S PLACE — FLORIDA

Fred, being a smart guy, made sure Brenda was seated on his left. They had asked for the big round booth in the corner. Sure enough, shortly, Brenda was practically glued to his arm. Not that he didn't like it; he certainly did, but if she had been on his right, he would have had a hard time eating.

"You look good, Girl," Audrey, who was sitting next to Brenda, said.

"Fresh fucked, you mean," Brenda giggled.

Carla and Jessica stopped just before they slid in. Carla made a production of getting a quarter out of her purse and flipping the coin up. Catching it, she slapped it to her forearm.

"Heads," Jessica called out.

Carla peeked under her hand. "Darn."

Jessica slid in next to Fred, with Carla coming in next to her.

"Little minx never loses," Carla grumbled.

Fred wondered if that was the way they decided who slept next to him, but he wouldn't ask.

"We're right on time, but they're all late," Audrey said, breaking Fred's chain of thought.

"Well, one is a doctor, and the other is a cop. Both professions tend to throw the unexpected at you," he reasoned.

"Not as if we're in a hurry, anyway," Carla said as she glanced around at the crowded restaurant. "We're lucky to get this table."

They all ordered drinks, and Fred told the waitress they would be waiting for the rest of their party.

The drinks arrived, and shortly, so did Doc and Betty. Betty had that look about her. As the doctor and his wife were being seated, Fred and his women looked at each other, then Fred chuckled. It caught on and the rest joined in. Brenda and Betty smiled at each other and blushed.

Dodson and his wife walked in and were soon seated. "Sorry we're late. We were, uh, unavoidably detained. We, uh..." he said.

"In other words, he screwed my brains out," his wife inserted. "I just found out I'm pregnant. So we took a few hours off to celebrate, but we do apologize for being late."

Doctor Harris took his wife's hand. Blushing, she looked around the table. "We've decided to start our family. And ... we might have already."

Carla, Jessica and Audrey all looked at Brenda, knowing she wasn't on birth control yet. Brenda suddenly blushed crimson.

"Uh, shall we order?" Fred laughed.

-------

A little more than two hours later, the impromptu party finally broke up. The guys argued over who was going to pay the bill, but Fred won out in the end. Dodson and the doctor split a very good tip for the waitress. Outside, everyone stood near the PT Cruiser as the men swapped cards and everybody promised to keep in touch.

"So where are you headed this afternoon?" Dodson asked.

When Fred started to answer, Carla spoke up. "About ten miles down the road, if the nurse's directions for the campgrounds are accurate. We need to service the RV tanks, and well, we need to..."

That brought on laughter and final hugs from everyone. Fred's family in the vehicle, everyone waved as the cruiser pulled out of the lot. Soon, Fred's group was back to the parking lot and had the Cruiser hooked to tow. "Sit up front," Carla told Brenda as they got in the RV.

"No, that's where you usually sit."

"Nonsense. We swap out, and besides, this is your rig and you haven't even gotten to ride up front yet."

Brenda giggled as she sat next to Fred, then looked over at him. "Actually," she said to Carla, who had just turned to go back to the living room, "I've always been in the driver's seat, or at least it felt that way since I was hitching a ride in Fred's mind. But this is all so ... new. I have a body. I can actually sit here," she finished as she snapped her seatbelt. "And making love to my husband was wonderful." Turning to look behind her, she softened her voice. "I want us all to make love, though. I won't be able to be in your minds and I'm going to miss that. Miss it a lot, but feeling my husband inside me is..."

Choking up, she stopped as Fred reached over and held her hand. "We'll all make love tonight."

"There are four of us women, and you, my sweet husband, aren't a little guy by any means. We can't all fit in that bed."

"Hah," Jessica called out as Fred eased the big vehicle onto the street. "Wanna bet? I've got it all figured out. Two on one side of him and one on the other, like we've been doing — well, when I don't sleep on him," she laughed. "Anyway, someone can sleep crossways at the foot, if they don't want to sleep on top of him. If we get tired of that, a couple of us can take turns sleeping in here. We'll make it work."

Startling Fred, they all loudly chorused, "We'll make it work," then all laughed together.

A couple minutes later, "Slow down when you go by the front of the hospital. I want to get a couple shots from the door," Jessica said as she put action to words.

"Pictures of a hospital?" Fred said, bringing the rig to a halt and opening the door for her.

Jessica stood in the doorway taking pictures. "Yep, we took some in the room, as you know, and I took some of the RV sitting in the parking lot, but these are the only ones I'll have of the front of the hospital. Might want to show them to our kids one day when we tell them where Brenda got her new body."

Fred looked over at Brenda and winked as Jessica hurried back to her seat. He closed the door, checked for traffic, then pulling back onto the highway, headed south.

-------

THE RETREAT

Jeff, coat slung over his shoulder, knocked on Wainwright's door. When he opened it, Jeff said, "Feeling left out?"

"Yeah, but gladly," Frank laughed as he ushered Jeff inside. "All I want to know about the wedding is when to show up. I'll gladly stay out of the planning. Besides, that's what we're paying all that money to the wedding planner for, although, I haven't even seen her yet. Want something to drink?"

"That sounds good, let's take it with us. Why don't we take a ride up to the ski lodge and chat for a bit?"

"Anything I should worry about?" Frank said as he went over and opened the refrigerator door.

"Oh, crap, no. We haven't had a chance to be together much lately, and I've heard you mention a couple things in passing that I would like to pursue. Mostly, I just want to get out of the building for a while."

At Frank's gesture, Jeff said, "Anything you have is fine."

Wainwright took out two bottles of water, then handed Jeff one. Grabbing his coat, Frank followed his buddy toward the inside garage, but Jeff changed his mind. "I haven't driven my Expedition lately. Let's go get it from the outside garage."

"Fine with me," Frank said.

Shortly they were in the Expedition and backing out. Jeff glanced at his friend and said, "I heard you and Bill talking about your new plane, but that's all I was able to hear at the time. I guess it got my curiosity up. You going to get rid of your current jet?"

Wainwright looked over as Jeff started the vehicle toward the driveway. "No reason to get rid of it. It fits the bill nicely most times, but with the wedding coming up and with you ... uh, shall we say, expanding your harem, I thought we could well use a larger plane on occasion. This Bombardier will seat eighteen passengers and has a little more range."

Jeff slowed at the top of the drive, but it was obvious that Dave had done his thing this morning. They hadn't had much snow last night, but what little they had was plowed out.

"He's a good man," Wainwright said, guessing Jeff's thoughts.

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, and sometimes I feel like I don't deserve him. He and Evie bust their asses for me." Realizing that Frank and Margaret did too, "Uh, Frank I didn't mean to sound as if..."

Wainwright broke in with a chuckle. "Just stop before you even start. I've become ... callous about friends — close friends — over the years. There is always someone trying to get close enough to untie my purse strings, as my dad used to say. So I guess, I've become more than a little reserved and cautious. With you, you will spend money when you need too, but it doesn't run your life. You love and respect that fine building that Dave and Evie built for me, but you would be just as happy anywhere as long as your family is with you. You aren't after my money, and I've never been closer to anyone since my parents died."

"Thanks, Frank. We all feel the same way about you and Margaret."

As Jeff maneuvered down the driveway, Wainwright looked over at the Prime. "Margaret and I have been — humbled — by you and your wives referring to us as family. She and I fly together a lot, as you know, and well, things happen sometimes. I just want to let you know that ... she and I have changed our wills."

Jeff brought the SUV to an abrupt halt. "Frank, what the fuck..."

Wainwright took a long drink from his water, deliberately delaying his answer, making Jeff wait. "Sorry, we tried to figure out how to tell you, but the time just never seemed right. Don't get your panties in a wad my brother; we have some distant relatives who will be well taken care of if anything happens to us, and a few business associates as well, but yeah, the major portion of our holdings will go to you and your family. We don't expect to die soon," he laughed, "and I haven't had any premonitions, but well, we just wanted to take care of things up front, in case something did go wrong."

"Frank, I..."

"Don't say it. No need. Besides, it's a done deal."

Jeff looked over at Frank for a minute, then puffing out a breath, started the Expedition moving again. "Diana and I have a will, but maybe I need to think about expanding it a little. Then again, all my wives and I have a contract with each other that is a lot more binding than a marriage contract. I wanted to make sure nothing would go wrong if I didn't come back from one of my missions. But maybe Diana and I need to sit down and discuss this some more. If something should happen to all of us — say a plane crash..."

As Jeff turned onto the small country road and headed uphill, Frank asked, "Tell me again what Little One said about our life ... expectancy."

Jeff sighed. "I know that I've told you she and I occasionally have a problem trying to communicate about time. Sometimes, I think we understand each other just fine, then she just blows me out of the water with a deluge of information, concepts, feelings, and so forth that leave me wondering what happened. I think...  remember I said, think,  that time is mixed in with her understanding of the dimensions. Her understanding. Not mine. I can't seem to wrap my mind around what she's showing me. When she tries, I guess you could say, 'my mind goes all weird, ' to use one of Arlene's expressions."

"And all this is in preface to..."

Jeff hesitated, then looked hard at his brother-Alpha. "I think that when I ask her how long I'll live, well, I think she's fucking saying forever. She always shows herself as part of me — us,  when we discuss how long I'll live; hell, I don't know. I've asked her this three times since we started communicating enough to understand each other. All three times, I get something that makes my stomach want to be somewhere else, and something comes across that scares the shit out of me. I can't describe it ... It's beyond words."

"Well, that certainly answered a lot of questions — not," Frank laughed as they pulled into the parking lot of the ski lodge.

Jeff put the vehicle in Park and sat staring at the building for a moment. "I am certain that our cells now perfectly replicate, and according to Little One, we won't ever catch any disease, but beyond that, we're back in the twilight zone as far as understanding is concerned. But there is something, though. I had a statistics professor prove that no one could live forever, or anything even approaching it — statistically..."

Frank sat quietly as he processed what Jeff had said, then, "Yeah, I've seen that 'proven' as well, but I think he left something out..."

"Alphas," both men said at the same time.

"Enhanced Alphas, and their mates," Jeff added. "I think Little One is including all of us in what she is trying to tell me. We'll never get the chance to prove that professor wrong, though, at least that he would know of," Jeff laughed. "If we're right, he'll be dead and won't be able to hear us. And if he's right, we darn sure won't be around to argue with him, or anyone else."

Both men sat chuckling over something that wasn't really that funny, but they were enjoying being together. Frank, with a twinkle in his eye, looked over at Jeff. "Kayla had a look about her this morning, and I saw you looking at her from time to time — a little differently. She seemed to be walking a couple feet off the floor, she was so happy, and speaking of walking, she sure was taking small steps."

"Frank, you are so full of shit."

"And speaking of full of..." he laughed, letting the sentence hang.

Jeff chuckled in spite of himself. "No, she wasn't — I think she douched this morning."

"So you did take her for your wife last night?"

"Well, not exactly..."

"'Not exactly, ' as far as you're concerned, maybe. You can bet your bottom dollar that's not what she or your other wives think, though."

"Well, we're not going to make it official right now..."

"So as to not usurp Margaret's night, I'll bet. I appreciate what you're doing. Thank you."

Jeff smiled back at his friend. "Actually, you also know I have nothing to do with scheduling things like that. I just show up when they tell me to," he chuckled, "just like someone I know said a short while ago. And besides, Kayla will be my number ten. Margaret will be number one with you."

Frank sat looking toward the ski lodge for a moment. "Jeff, Margaret is already looking for number two for me, and we're not even married yet. Shit, I liked to have never talked her into it, as you're aware; she just kept saying she didn't want to fuck up what we had, referring to her past marriages, obviously. But once she decided to marry me, I swear, if Little One hadn't enhanced me, Margaret would have fucked me to death. And yeah, my dick gets hard every time she walks past, but shit, Jeff, she's looking for another wife for me, and I'm not in the least bit interested."

"And you're expecting to get sympathy from me?" Jeff joked.

Frank ignored him and went on: "Margaret is the best fuck I've ever had, and I love her beyond reason. The damn woman understands me. No woman has ever done that before. I don't want to take a chance of fucking that up. There's no bloody way I will be lucky enough for it to happen twice. You think you could get Diana to talk to her for me?"

Jeff just looked at him. "You want Diana to talk to her? Hell, Diana would probably tell her you needed a half dozen — maybe more," he finished after a second, just to see Frank flinch.

Frank sat staring at Jeff for a moment, then, "Yeah, I guess that was pretty dumb, wasn't it, considering how Diana shops for your wives? But, shit, I'm getting desperate. We were just lying there talking after we made love last night, when out of the blue, Margaret started bringing up single women that we know, and asking me what I thought about each of them for a mate. What the fuck am I going to do if she picks one?"

Jeff let out a snort. "Do like I do. Say, 'Thank you, Dear.' Might as well, she doesn't pay attention to anything else I say about wives."

"Well, at least you got to pick Diana, and don't give me that crap she spouted to Margaret about a couple of hunches and a bare-down and she was pregnant. Besides, that sounded like a quote from you, anyway. But back to the other, you were young, but you were also older than her. You saw that girl and wanted her for your wife. You set out to get her, didn't you?"

Jeff couldn't help but chuckle. "Guilty as charged. I certainly didn't know what a Queen was back then, but I knew I wasn't going to give anyone else a chance at her. She just felt like the other half of me. And yeah, I could have fucked longer, and certainly could have pulled out, but..."

"A pregnant girl at that time — especially in the Deep South — was expected to marry. So she needed a husband, and there you stood. How did you keep the grin off your face?" (Deep South is generally considered to be Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, and debatably a couple more states.)

"Oh, trust me, it wasn't hard to do. Both our families came down on our asses, and that's putting a very good light on the subject as far as Susan is concerned. I swear she would have had me castrated if she thought she could have gotten away with it."

"Didn't I see her stop to give you a hug at breakfast? And come to think of it, I didn't hear even one snide comment out of her. Also, she was still standing in the living room looking out the window when we walked out after the General's presentation. You didn't fuck her did you? And by the way, that presentation made me feel proud to be counted as your friend."

"You're more than that to me, Frank. And you know it. And no, I didn't fuck her."

Frank grinned at him. "I think that woman finally woke up when she found out some of the things you did. The General told us he agreed to assign one of the healers to you because of Diana's ankle, in return for taking a mission no one else had come back from. And you came back from it — in a fucking space ship. I was watching Susan when he said what he did about the mission. She looked like someone just slapped the shit out of her. She, like the rest of us, realized that you traded your life to get Diana out of that pain."

"Now, don't overdo it. I knew I would come back. I'm not into suicide. Whitworth blew it up a little. Shit, he apparently blew it up a lot. And I fucking wish he hadn't."

"Maybe. Maybe not, about the coming back. Anyway, I think your mother-in-law suddenly saw you in a different light."

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, I think you're right. I talked to her after the meeting, and she was still standing and looking out the window into the dark when I got there. I just wish her change of heart — if it is, indeed, that — could have come about some way other than misplaced hero worship."

"Misplaced? I don't think so."

"Frank, I'm just plain lucky. That's all."

Frank gave Jeff an odd smile. "I had a combat vet tell me once that he had rather go into combat with a guy who was lucky than go in with someone who was good. Paraphrasing the General, I would say you were both — good and lucky. In other words, a Prime."

"Shit's getting deep," Jeff laughed. "Time to change the subject. Now what about this new plane?"

"Well, we spent our short week with Bill and Kathy getting checked out on it and having your new radar installed. Not that we had to hide it, but it will come up on the regular radar screen after an odd key combination. Word has certainly gotten out about the military testing out your radar, but no use advertising one to steal while our plane is parked."

"So what are you going to do with your old plane?"

"Still going to use it. No use using the big one for just Margaret and me. When we need the big one, it will be available. And it's definitely going to get some use this week in ferrying people to the wedding. I just hope the weather stays reasonable so we can use the helicopters to get people from the airport up here. Sure would be a lot quicker than using limos from Denver or Boulder."

"Want to look inside?"

"Sure."

Jeff opened the front door to the lobby and they went into the darkened interior, the only light coming from the big glassed-in front. "I need to go on outside in the back to start the generator. Dave wants to get an electrician up here before we call the power company. Just be a minute."

Frank walked on out with him, and Jeff pressed the start button on the generator. The big motor kicked over once, caught, ran rough for a few seconds, then smoothed out. They went back inside, and Jeff turned the lights on.

Frank looked around him. "Place looks a lot better than I imagined for a ski lodge. With that section repaired, the lodge could make money."

"Yeah, what I thought, also. But most of the ski slope that starts just past the end of the building was pretty much trashed by the avalanche as well as destroying that end of the building," he said, motioning. "Of course, that could be fixed in a few days with some earth moving equipment."

"Gonna open it back up after your security leaves?" Frank asked, knowing the answer.

"Not hardly. I've gotten used to the seclusion. No use having dozens of vehicles running up and down our little mountain road."

"And," Frank added, "I can't see the General ever deciding you don't need security any more. Not after what he told us last night."

"How do you and Margaret put up with it?"

"Oh, I tend to keep a pretty low profile, and besides, I always have security hanging around — discreetly, of course. I don't have any on the jet, per se, but I'm escorted to and from the airport, and Bill is always armed. Anywhere else we go, there's security nearby. Comes with being rich. Invariably, sooner or later, someone will do what they can to take it from you, if ... they think they can get away with it. Margaret and I have had a couple of near misses, but security has taken care of it for us."

"This way," Jeff said, holding the door open. "The kitchen is all the way down the hall and to the right. Not as nice as the one at the retreat," he joked to Frank. "But then again, few are. There's a big banquet hall, or whatever you would choose to call it. Several meeting rooms, and of course, the eating area adjoining the kitchen. The people who bought this place had overextended themselves, and I strongly suspect, had sucked off way too much of the income from this and other enterprises they owned. The business should have made money. There are plenty of others in the Winter Park area that do."

They paused as Jeff pushed the door open to the banquet area. "Ready room, training area, weapon storage — plenty of uses."

"Those guys will think they have died and gone to Heaven," Frank laughed. "I'll bet their barracks doesn't look like this at your base."

"You might be surprised," Jeff responded as they walked back into the hallway past rooms and suites. "Oh, certainly not this elegant, but the base is a far cry from what you get in the regular military. There are compensations for having to keep your mouth shut, and for the danger a lot of those people face."

Jeff shut down the generator and they walked back through the lobby, locking up as they left. "So this is going to be a short week for you?"

Frank waited to answer until they had seated themselves in the Expedition. "Yeah, I think we're supposed to bring the wedding planner and her people down on Wednesday, with your permission, of course. Although, I assume Margaret has already cleared it with Diana."

Jeff chuckled as he started the SUV. "You don't need my permission, and you know it. Let's just keep doing what we're good at — staying out of the way, with a little stepping and fetching thrown in when need be."

Chuckling, the men started back to the retreat.



-------

Chapter 70


FLORIDA

They saw a Wal-Mart on the outskirts of town and Fred pulled into the lot. He wanted to pick up another folding camp chair for Brenda. Also, she needed to go shopping for clothing and personal essentials. All she had were things borrowed from the other women. As soon as they entered the store, he told the women he would meet them back at the RV, and that seemed to please them. All four ladies kissed him in front of the watch display before they parted, which produced big eyes and a frown from the woman behind the counter. Fred knew they were deliberately putting on a show, but he certainly didn't mind. He winked at the sourpuss and headed for the sporting goods department.

Twenty minutes later, he had his purchases stowed and had looked up the number for the campground. After reserving a slot, he turned the TV on and caught up with the latest news. Later, he was awakened as the women noisily came back inside the RV.

"We got Brenda started on a basic wardrobe until we can find a mall with some decent clothing stores," Carla said as she slid onto the couch beside him, deliberately banging her hip into his.

As Brenda walked by, Carla grabbed her hand, dragging her down onto Fred's lap. "Kiss your husband so we can get started to the campground."

Brenda did, with enthusiasm, sliding her butt around on his lap to feel the lump forming there.

"We picked up some chicken. We're going to have grilled chicken, mashed potatoes and slaw for supper. That sound okay to you?" Audrey asked as she settled into the seat across from them.

Fred looked at her over Brenda's head. "Sounds great, as long as there's a lot of it. Oh, I called the campground and reserved us a spot for tonight. I told the guy we wanted off by ourselves."

Jessica plopped down on the couch on the other side of Fred, pulling his hand to her breast as she did so. "Just because I make a little bit of noise..." Everyone started laughing, "Uh, well, we don't always have to be off by ourselves. I'll try to hold it down to a dull roar."

"Those high notes you hit would never be considered a 'dull roar, '" her mother laughed.

"Well when Brenda does her feedback thing during our orgasms, we all..." Jessica suddenly stopped. "Uh, I guess that isn't going to happen anymore. Sorry. I didn't think, Brenda."

Brenda snuggled to her husband for a moment. "I'm going to miss that, too," she quietly said.

Fred tried to lighten the mood, joking about all the Wal-Mart bags, but the good mood still felt a bit contrived a few minutes later as they pulled out of the lot, this time, with Audrey riding shotgun.

Ten miles down the road, they had no trouble finding the campground. Fred stopped at the office and paid for the night. Using the map given to him by the owner, Fred found their spot on the far back side. As soon as he came to a halt, Audrey was out the door to begin their hookup.

"Baby, you don't have to do that," Fred complained when he got to the back.

"Hook up the water hose," she laughed. "I'll get the other. I might as well do the things I'm familiar with. It's been a long time since I've been on a farm, and I know nothing about ranching, so I'll have to be taught what to do when we get to Colorado. Besides, this ol' southern girl will be freezing her ass off in all that snow, and probably having to run back to the house to warm up all the time."

"Well, that makes two of us southerners to do that, but I was already getting a little accustomed to the cold. And remember, Brenda, uh, well, her new body, that is..."

"Talking about me behind my back already?" Brenda said as she walked up.

Fred grabbed her and pulled her to him. "Nope, just telling Audrey that she wouldn't be the only one not used to the cold when we get back to Colorado and the mountains."

"I've always hated cold weather," Brenda said. "Now show me how to do this, Audrey. The dealer went over it when we bought the rig, but I'd like to learn from someone who really knows the quirks."

Audrey gave a little wave with the back of her hand that Fred read as, "Scat. We need to talk." Grinning, he walked over and opened the compartment that held the camp chairs. Setting them up in the late afternoon shade of the tall pines, he pulled out his cleaning equipment and went about getting the grill ready to go.

-------

As darkness settled into the campground, Fred used the tongs to move the chicken from the grill to the big platter Jessica had brought him. Glancing around him at motion he noticed out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bat streak past at the edge of the light cast by the lantern. Odd, I could swear I heard a high-pitched squeal as that bat flew by way over there. Yeah, right. I'm fucking hearing bats now,  he scolded himself.

Walking the few steps to the picnic table, he set the platter down as Audrey brought out a big bowl of creamed potatoes. Smiling, she pecked him on the cheek and said, "Carla is finishing up the gravy and Jessica will be out with the slaw in a second. We have some yeast rolls, too. Do you want honey with the rolls?"

Fred rubbed a hand over her shapely ass. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'll be right back with the iced tea. Sit. We'll be ready to eat before you know it."

A few minutes later, after a short prayer of thanks from Brenda, they dug in. They talked about their trip, then what had happened at the hospital. Jessica giggled, "Doctor Harris never stopped smiling the whole time we were at the restaurant."

"Can't blame him. He said he hadn't dated any since he and his wife divorced. Long time to go without pussy."

"Well, his wife did the same," Carla said.

"Did without pussy?" Fred chuckled.

Jessica, since she was next to him, whacked his arm for her mother.

"No," Carla laughed, "Did without dick, Smartass."

"Well, I could certainly sympathize with her, if it was pussy she had been missing. If the Good Lord made anything better, he kept it for Himself."

Jessica didn't know whether to hit him or not, so she just kissed his cheek instead.

A moth flew by the lantern, and the bat Fred had heard earlier dived at the insect, the bat's flight coming within inches of Fred's face. The women shrieked, flinched or ducked, but the bat was gone almost before they could react. Everyone started laughing except Fred. Carla, frowning, reached over and touched his hand. "What's wrong, Baby?"

Fred refused to answer her, just picked up his tea glass and drained the last of it, then sat staring into the darkness.

Carla frowned. "Fred..."

"I heard the bat," he interrupted.

"Yeah, I heard its wings as it went by, and I heard it squeak," Brenda said.

Fred looked around at the women. "No. Not its wings; not its little squeak, either. I heard the fucking bat. Fuck, I guess its sonar. I heard the fucking bat, and it was loud. An intermittent high-pitched squeal. I can still hear him, or her or it, or whatever the fuck sex it is. I can hear it right now," he finished, trying to look high into the darkened trees about the picnic table.

Jessica stared at her mate. "I don't remember much of what we studied about bats," then hesitantly, "but I do remember reading about their high frequency pulses, and they're way above what the human ear can detect. Some guy hooked a microphone to an oscilloscope. He said the sound they emitted was very, very loud, and it was a good thing we couldn't hear it, or we would be constantly annoyed by it when bats were around."

Fred looked back up into the trees, using his ears to follow the bat's darting. "He's coming back," he calmly said just before the bat made a second pass near their table, then darted upward. Fred put his hands over his ears and quietly said, "Shit."

-------

THE RETREAT

Supper at the retreat had been a loud affair, everyone talking and laughing — except Jeff, who appeared stressed just to take part in the conversations. Most seemed to want to ask him questions. (Alesha was out with Jessie, so they could now talk freely with each other.) Questions about what Jeff had done off-planet. Questions they had already asked one way or another before. He tried to keep his answers civil, and thought he had succeeded until afterward when Dave walked by, stopped for a second to squeeze his shoulder and say, "If you need to talk about it, you know where I am."

Jeff started to deny that anything was wrong, but Dave had already begun to walk away. Later in the hallways, Jeff passed Diana, who rubbed her hand over his side and asked, "Know where my mother is?"

"It's not my job..." he started to snarl before he stopped himself.

Diana spun around to him, putting her arms around his waist and looking up into his eyes. "What's wrong, Baby?"

Jeff let out a breath. "I ... don't know. I'm just uptight for some reason."

Diana, some recesses of her mind always a little fearful that what she had done with Jack would come back to haunt her husband, looked at him. "Is it something I've done? I love you my mate. Whatever it is..."

"No," he interrupted. "No, you have done nothing. It's just me. I don't know what's wrong, but it has nothing to do with anything you or any of my wives have done. I think I'm going to go lie down and take a nap. I couldn't sleep last night, and this fucking feeling is driving me nuts."

Diana squeezed herself to him, making sure her braless breasts pushed into his chest the way he liked. "Why don't you have Little One check you out? Maybe there is something a little wrong with you."

"No, I don't want to interrupt her hibernation and whatever she's doing to herself. Besides, I feel fine; it's just something bugging me. Almost like I've forgotten something that I need to do. I'll think of it sooner or later."

"Maybe you just need a good blow job," she smirked up at him. "I could always use another half-cup of semen. I've heard it's good for the skin," she kidded.

Jeff swatted her on the ass. "How's it going to do your skin any good with my stuff in your belly?" he laughed. "Besides, your skin couldn't be any more beautiful, and you know it. But I do appreciate the offer. Now go find your mom. We'll get around to the blowjob a little later. I love you, you know."

"I know," she said, looking up at him again. "And I love you, too. Just chill out. You'll figure out what's wrong."

-------

Jeff had just kicked back in his favorite recliner when Frank Wainwright walked into the living room. Stopping to put a couple more logs on the fire, he took a seat beside Jeff. "This place is going to be a beehive later in the week. The wedding planner and her staff will be here Wednesday. The guests will start coming in Thursday morning. Of course, the wedding planner and Margaret have been on the phone almost constantly for the last few days, as I'm sure you know."

The men sat quietly for a few minutes, then Wainwright looked over at Jeff. "Diana is still insisting that she and her sister-wives will clean the rooms and serve the meals while our guests are here. Dave and his wives say they're going to be part of it, too, but we still have time to change this to a church in Saint Louis if you want."

Jeff grinned at the executive beside him. "Do I detect reticence on your part, or is it a bit more like scared shitless that you're getting married?" Chuckling, he continued before Frank could answer him. "Now you damn well know we would be insulted if you didn't have your wedding in this fabulous building you built. And besides, I'm looking forward to being a butler or bellhop, or whatever the women decide I'll do."

"But this is your home. We can hire..."

"No, Frank," Jeff interrupted with a laugh. "As far as your guests will be concerned, this will still be your place, just like it used to be. And besides that, it is indeed your home, so we're not really lying about anything."

"Jeff, I appreciate that, but your wife has ordered monogrammed everything with the interlocking MM. And Margaret knows this..."

"So, tell your guests you named the retreat Matthews Mountain because the first people to own the mountain were named Matthews — us. I may not own the whole mountain, but I damn sure own a good part of it. You named the retreat after the name of the mountain. Screw it. They won't care, and probably won't even notice, anyway."

Wainwright sighed and sat quietly for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I'm getting into this too much. Better to sit back and let the women worry about the details. But shit, I want it to come off like your weddings did — without a hitch."

"So? It will."

"Yes, but some of these people are rich. Some old money, and worse, some new money."

"In other words, you're trying to tell me that some of them are assholes, right?"

Wainwright chuckled. "Dyed-in-the-wool, my Prime. Dyed-in-the-wool. Oh, most of the rich wouldn't normally give you or your wives any grief. But if they think that your wives are serving staff, some of them will act as if your wives don't even exist. They will talk in front of them while they critique this place and everyone in it, the staff included. That might be a little hard for your younger wives to swallow."

"'Younger wives?'" Jeff laughed. "I would be more concerned about Helen. She is, shall we say, not very forgiving of stupid. She says that uneducated is one thing, but stupid is another. She isn't exactly slow with her tongue if she thinks someone deserves it. I guess that's the teacher in her."

"Oh, shit, Jeff. This whole thing worries me. I can bring experienced staff in here. People who are used to putting up with complainers and whiners."

"Might do those complainers and whiners good to meet my wives, then," Jeff sniggered. "This wedding might well go down in our family history books. Remember how Arlene took out that kid on the farm? Somebody runs his hand across her ass and they're going to draw back a nub. Just imagine your telling that to your grandkids one day."

Jeff got a kick out of seeing Frank's face pale, then, "So why invite the obnoxious ones?"

Frank let out a sigh. "Some are distant relatives. Some are business associates that I make a lot of money from. Don't get me wrong, I think things will go smoothly, but I just worry."

Jeff was beginning to think he had hassled his brother-Alpha enough for the moment, so changing the subject, "I assume you guys have decided where you're going on your honeymoon?"

"Yeah, that island I told you about. Margaret says she's coming back knocked up, so we need to have Little One turn my new wife's baby factory back on."

"You sure about that? Big step. Big, big step."

Frank paused a moment, then looked over at Jeff. "Yeah ... I am. Either we do it now, or we're going to look like grandparents, or great grandparents when we take the kid to its first day at school."

Jeff smiled at him. "I get the point, but with what Little One has done to us, we'll have many years to have babies; you and Margaret, too, and certainly not look old while we're at it. And Margaret looks about thirty-five now, and you look about forty or maybe forty-five. I assume that's the age you both want to look."

"Yeah, and like I mentioned before, any younger and the people I deal with would probably lose some of the respect they tend to show me, not to mention wondering how I suddenly got to looking so young. I've hinted that we both had some plastic surgery done, but I don't want to look any younger — just feel young."

"Yeah, me too. I don't want to get older, but I look young enough the way I am. Little One is in hibernation right now, like I told you. You two are coming back Wednesday, aren't you? So she can take care of Margaret then." At Frank's nod, Jeff went on, "Little One has already told me it will only take a moment to start any of the women ovulating, though. I'm almost sure she can fix it so Margaret will be ready on her wedding night, if the two of you want that."

"I'll check with Margaret, but I think that's what she wants. We'll leave here for the island, Saturday morning."

"If you two like the place, I might just take my wives down a little later."

-------

CAMPGROUND IN FLORIDA

Fred sat in the chair under the trees, thinking. The women had gone inside, but he wasn't ready yet. I have my wife back. She's in a different body, but she's back, just the same. Funny, when you love someone, what they look like doesn't seem to make any difference. Of course, that body is damn pretty and her pussy felt as tight this morning as any I've ever been in. Odd to even think about having other women, though. I never touched another woman after Brenda and I were married. Never even seriously thought about it. Then Carla and Jessica came along when Jeff dragged me out to Colorado. It's odd how all my women have accepted each other. All this stuff about being an Alpha, but I know Jeff is holding back on me. Shit, I know he trusts me, but I wish he could tell me what the fuck is going on.

Whatever he has done to me has made me healthier, stronger, hell, a better lover than I've ever been. Brenda used to be able to fuck me until I couldn't get it up any more. Now my dick will get up, and stay up, as long as I want it to. They're all waiting for me to come in and make love to them, but I'm going to call Jeff first.

Fred took out his cell and was glad to see it had a strong signal. Dialing, he waited.

"Matthews' residence. Diana speaking."

"It's me," Fred said. "What's going on, on the mountain?"

"Lots, Big Guy. Lots. For one thing, we're all waiting to see Brenda. When are you coming back?"

Fred chuckled. "Not for a while yet. Brenda says she has been looking forward to this trip for years. I think we're going to see every amusement park and tourist attraction in Florida. Well, until the women get tired of the crowds, that is," he laughed. "And with Brenda, that probably won't take nearly as long as she thinks it will right now."

"So do you want to talk to my hubby?"

"Yeah, if he isn't busy, put him on."

"Glad you called, Fred. Tell your women we're anxiously awaiting them. Hang on, I'll buzz the living room."

A moment later, Jeff came on the line. "Fred. What's happening on that trip of yours?"

Fred laughed. "Well, you know I got my wife back, and all that, but I've got something to ask you."

"Fire it up. I'll answer you if I can. And tell Brenda we're all anxiously waiting to see her new body."

"Uh, I'll tell her." Fred took a deep breath. "Jeff, I know this sounds crazy, but how in the fuck can I stop hearing bats? I started hearing them a little bit, then it suddenly got louder — easier to hear them. There are three of the little buggers flying around the RV right now chasing insects. The fucking screeching is driving me nuts."

Jeff didn't laugh as Fred half-expected. "When did it start?"

"Hell, I don't know. I don't think I've been around any bats lately, but I can sure hear the ones that are here right now. And I'm not fucking nuts, Jeff. I really can hear them."

Jeff sighed. "It's part of being an enhanced Alpha. If we were together, I could do this a lot easier. It's like when I told you how to flip the 'switch' to make your women come. If we were together, I could kind of mentally show you while we talk about it. But think about that 'switch' while we talk about this. You can turn that part of your hearing on and off just like you can the part of your mind that touches your woman's mind."

They spent fifteen minutes, and Fred had drops of sweat dripping off his forehead before he quietly said. "That did it. I can't hear the little fuckers anymore. Shit, that screeching was driving me crazy."

Jeff chuckled, "Now let's turn it back on."

"Not bloody likely," Fred groused, but he knew what Jeff was after.

"You might need it someday. Now let's practice turning it on and off a few times."

-------

Fred's women sat quietly as he walked past them in the living room. "Gonna take a shower. I stink."

They knew he had been on the phone, and guessed he was talking to Jeff. While he was talking, Jessica had gotten on the Internet to read an article to them about bats. No one could hear a bat's "sonar system." Yet they never doubted Fred when he said he could.

They were all waiting nude for him when he got out of the shower. "Wow," he laughed as he tossed the towel he had wrapped around his waist.

"Not bad yourself, Big Boy," Audrey said as they watched his cock fill and begin to rise.

Carla reached over to grab his hand and pull him onto the bed. "What did Jeff say about the bat thing?"

Fred sighed as he turned onto his back, the women moving near. "He ... taught me how to shut off that part of my hearing."

"But ... how could anyone hear a bat's sonar?" Audrey asked.

"Like we said, he's an Alpha," Carla started.

"He could always do some things that most other men couldn't," Brenda offered.

"Jeff wouldn't say anything else, just that he could now tell us why we are so healthy and look so young — why I can hear a bat, but he couldn't tell us on the phone," Fred said.

They were quiet for a moment, then Jessica launched herself to land on his chest, trying to tickle him, obviously wanting him to tickle her. Laughing, all the women were shortly into the game, tickling him or anyone else near themselves.

As Fred tickled the woman nearest him, his body responded to the bouncing breasts and the hardened nipples around him. More and more, the tickling became intimate touching, not just between Fred and the women, but between the women, also. His lips had been locked to Audrey's and as he pulled back, he heard Carla let out a soft sigh as she cuddled her daughter's head to her breast. They were lying facing each other as Jessica nursed. Carla's passion continued to rise and her breath hissed in as an orgasm took her. Only then did Fred realize that Jessica was doing more than just sucking her mother's breast — Jessica's hand was buried between her mother's legs.

"Oh, wow," Audrey said, and that was all it took. With a grin, Jessica rolled over to her and licked a nipple.

"Uh, I'm not really into that..." Audrey's last word went up an octave as Jessica sucked the nipple into her mouth, continuing to lick as she applied suction.

Fred leaned over and kissed Audrey silent while Jessica's hand snuck southward. It didn't take Audrey long to have her first orgasm, whining into Fred's mouth as her body arched upward and shivered.

Earlier in the day, Fred had made tender love to Brenda, but as he now turned from Audrey, he saw that his wife was waiting for him, her legs spread and a grin on her face. "Fuck me, Husband."

"I always make love to my women," he laughed.

"Maybe so, but fuck me while you're making love to me," she teased.

When he moved between her legs, she reached down to guide his cock. "Push," she instructed.

Three slow pushes and he was touching her cervix. "Now fuck me," she said, her legs locking around his to give her leverage to lift her pussy as she squeezed his cock.

"Oh, shit," Fred sighed, "that feels good."

"Yeah, it does," Brenda giggled, then hissed in a breath and bit down on her lip as her first orgasm hit.

The other women had gotten as near as they could, either sitting or lying so that they could stroke the couple with gentle hands as Fred began to pound into Brenda. It went on and on, Fred holding back his orgasm while trying to do anything he could to bring Brenda off as many times as he could.

"At least we can still hear each other," he told Brenda when he realized that he could hear his wife — hoping she could hear him as well.

"Loud and clear," Brenda answered in his mind. "It's ... almost like when I was in your mind. I ... oh, shit, here it comes. It's my big one. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. I'm com..." The mental scream continued where her logical thought left off.

Suddenly, Fred felt her orgasm. "Oh, crap. Men weren't designed to have orgasms like this," he thought as the tidal wave of ecstasy jangled every nerve in his body, but the orgasm didn't stop like a man's did, it just built and continued. Some part of his mind vaguely realized that their orgasms were being reflected back and forth. All his women screamed. He could feel his cock spurting. He could feel Brenda feeling his hot come splashing against her cervix. Her thoughts, his, Carla's, Jessica's and Audrey's became one intermeshed until no one could distinguish what was theirs and what belonged to someone else. The world went black.

-------

"Get off. I can't breathe," Brenda gasped into his ear.

Fred, half conscious, put pressure on his forearms to lift some of his weight. Oh, shit, he gasped to himself. My prostate hurts. My balls hurt. What the fuck happened?

"I think we did it," Brenda said into his mind, as he lifted his head back a little to stare into her face — a face that was radiant with love for him.

"I thought we couldn't do that any more," Fred managed.

"I think the communication with the others is just one-way though," Brenda thought back to him. "But everyone can hear me if we're touching, just like before."

The women all giggled, or chuckled, their verbal agreements coming a second later.

"Fred, Baby. It's almost like before. I can feel you — feel your mind. It's not as clear as when I was in there with you, but it's like I'm partway there. Can you ... uh, feel me?"

"I can feel that great pussy of yours clinging to my dick, but no ... I can't see inside your mind. Just hear you when you 'talk' to me, and of course, feel your orgasms," he finished with a mental grin.

Jessica gave Fred a playful slap on his butt. "Okay. No fair. You two talk out loud. We can only hear Brenda's side of the conversation."

"Somebody, please get a towel. When he pulls that log out of me, there's going to be come everywhere," Brenda said aloud.

Laughing, Jessica got up to hurry to the bathroom.



-------

Chapter 71


Jeff realized it was past time for Joyce to come by and tell him goodbye before going to work. Shortly, she walked into the living room still casually dressed in shorts and a comfortable top. Crawling into his lap as he sat in a chair in the living room, she said, "I'm going to be home again tonight."

Jeff kissed her forehead and hugged her to him. "And how did you manage to get two nights off in a row, My Sweet."

Joyce didn't answer him for the moment, but snuggled to him with a contented sigh. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be your wife and be living here."

"Well, I would be more pleased if you were here all the time," he said.

Joyce looked up at him. "I'll admit that I'm not as anxious to be a deputy as I once was, and before you ask, it has nothing to do with getting shot. It has everything to do with you, all my sister-wives, and well ... just everything. But I can't quit and leave the Sheriff shorthanded. Maybe when things settle down ... I don't know."

Jeff just kept his own counsel, knowing he had pushed enough in the past, better to just let her make the decision.

Leaning up, she softly kissed him. "I'm off tonight because I'm signed up to go to a seminar on hostage negotiations in Denver tomorrow. I'll have to leave here by six-thirty to get there on time. Sheriff Tate sent me a note last week, and I stayed over to talk to him the next morning. I guess I thought he was implying that I could have negotiated with the guy I killed. I was pissed and ... well, I guess my feelings were hurt a little, too. Tate just laughed at me and said I had done exactly what he would have done, but it was my 'time in the barrel, ' the slot in the class was open and he needed to fill it. He told me to be cool and not harass the instructor too much. I might even learn something. He also warned me to get plenty of sleep tonight and to try to stay awake in class, because it tended to be boring."

Jeff chuckled as he looked at his frustrated wife. "Well, the military wasn't big on hostage negotiations, and the reserves in Georgia weren't required to take the class, so I missed it at the police department, too. I can imagine it's a bit..."

"Boorring," Joyce supplied, stretching out the word.

Jeff slipped a hand down to gently cup her groin. "That boring?" he teased.

"Nooo," she hissed out, shivering. "Take me to bed and fuck my brains out."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, standing with her in his arms.

-------

THE HIDDEN BASE

At the base, Colonel Buckmann sat in his office, his eyes on his computer screen. It was late, everyone in the section having gone to quarters many hours ago. Sighing, he turned from the screen to pour two fingers of scotch into his glass, took a slug and sat thinking.

Just when I had everything going smoothly, that fucking Whitworth hauls ass with that sister-in-law of his. Hauls ass straight to Matthews and that fucking healer. Then he calls back for me to set up a security team for Matthews. Shit. Fucking son-of-a-bitch. If he had waited a few weeks, we could have developed more information, but nooo, that bastard has to stick his nose in. That damn healer is a fucking gold mine, but once a security team is in there, I could never get away with an attack. No telling how many mercenaries it would take to take out the security force. Shit. Shit. Shit. Then Whitworth comes back without even telling me, with his sister-in-law hanging all over him, healthy as a horse. No damn wonder she's pleased, she left here half dead, now there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her at all.

Then that sorry bastard I went to school with bypasses me and contacts the mercenary himself, gives them the go-ahead, then tells me. Just like the bastard; he was always trying to usurp me, even way back in high school. He stole my girl, but I put a baby in her belly a year after they were married. How in the hell we've remained so-called friends, I'll never know, but if he hadn't figured out what I was doing with the blocks, and I hadn't needed his money to finance this, I would still be in this without the bastard. Now he goes around me and moves the timetable up — way up.

I told him that Matthews had a damn good security system, but Don thinks he can get past it by just sending in the two mercenaries who have been cleaning for Matthews, plus two more hidden in the cleaning van, along with the Hagewoods to take the blame. He told me he wasn't worried about a few women, even after I reminded him that Matthews had told me he had trained them to shoot. And Matthews can shoot the ass out of a gnat at a hundred meters. Worries me that he has taught his women to shoot. No telling what they can do.

With Matthews reporting to me, I was getting some good info without trying to push it. Don says we don't need any more info, and thinks the women will panic when they see the guns. I'm not so sure about that. I wanted this to look like Matthews and the Hagewoods shot it out in the bedroom after the place was set on fire. Let the fire investigators worry about how the fire got started. But we don't know enough to go in now. I want that healer, but we don't know exactly where it is. Matthews mentioned keeping it in a drawer, and we had just been talking about his new lab and his office, so I assume he keeps the healer in there, but hell, I don't know. And we don't know how far along Matthews is with his next invention. We should have waited, security force in the near future or not. But Don is fronting the money for the mercenaries, and I made the mistake of giving in and letting him have the codes so he could talk to them.

Fuck Whitworth. If that son-of-a-bitch had stayed away from the Matthews' place, there would be no security force hanging over our heads in the near future to fuck up my plans. Fuck Don, too. How in the hell did that asshole get as far in politics as he has managed? What I ever saw in that bastard, I'll never know. Of course, fucking his wife every chance I got was a real turn-on. Every time I shot off in her pussy, I thought about that bastard taking her away from me. Hell, she went with the money, so I guess he did me a favor in the long run — no doubt about it.

She would have probably fucked around on me, too. The first two kids are mine, though, and that bastard has raised them. I've made him a cuckold for years, but either he, or some other bastard, put the last kid in her. She says it's Don's, but I have my doubts. Oh, hell, the kids are about grown now, anyway, but Lisa's pussy is still good, and fucking a politician's wife makes it even better. But the bastard might just have screwed things up about the attack. Fucking mercenaries are liable to go in there shooting, and Whitworth will start an investigation that might very well turn me out. Fuck!

Colonel Buckmann continued to run the program that would forensically erase the files that would incriminate him, worrying that the attack on Matthews would precipitate an investigation that might spread to the base. His diligence was useless though, for Lieutenant Nicholas Campbell had already copied all Buckmann's encrypted and passworded files to the General's computer, along with Buckmann's passwords. It had taken Campbell's program only a few minutes to decipher the passwords. Now the information was available to General Whitworth as soon as he got around to looking through the files.

-------

THE RETREAT

Tired, but in a good mood, they had returned from the range and Jeff's impromptu firearms class. After a shower, everyone felt better, though. Laughing and playing grab ass with Jeff, they went to bed.

Later. "Hey, we saved the sheets tonight," Jennie chortled.

"Might have had something to do with that stack of washcloths you had," Jeff teased as he lay in bed looking up at Jennie as she now stood beside the bed.

"Yeah, but we're still changing the sheet," Diana said, laughing as she slid out of bed to stand by Jennie. Without further ado, she pulled the fitted sheet loose from the bottom corner of the bed. "It still has wet places from the sweat. Get your butt up, Stud, so I can get this off."

Jeff just got out of the way. If he tried to help, he would still have been fumbling with his section of the big sheet while the others waited on him, and he knew it. With the same efficiency his wives exhibited in the kitchen, they had the new sheet on in seconds. Shortly, everyone was in bed with the lights turned down, Diana snuggled to his right side, with Ann snuggled to his left. Diana absently twirled his chest hair around her index finger as they lay facing each other.

In a quiet voice, "I told the girls they could go with Dave and Evie in the morning. Evie wants to take her sister wives and the girls to The Denver Zoo, and also wants to introduce the girls to Kim's mom and dad, plus showing them around the construction office. You don't have any problem with that, do you?"

Jeff kissed the tip of her nose, a hand gently massaging a nipple, not really trying to sexually arouse her, but just gently loving her. "No, I guess not. I'm always uncomfortable when any of you are out of my sight, but the girls need to get out more. As you know, they have never gotten to go anywhere much, let alone a great place like Denver's zoo."

"Well, Mom is going with them. She said she wasn't letting her granddaughters get that far away from her. Jeff, the girls asking her to become their Meemi has really affected her — favorably affected her. And having Whitworth tell about what you did, not to mention those helmet cam videos, has just about stunned her. Well, stunned all of us, I guess. Jeff, my darling, I've always loved you, even when I..."

"Don't go there," Jeff interrupted. "You've apologized enough about Jack. That's over and done with. You've made up for it a thousand times over," he finished, gently touching his lips to hers.

A moment later, Diana cleared her throat, hoping with the near darkness in the bedroom he couldn't see the tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "Uh, anyway, we can hardly talk of anything else. We're sleeping with our man — our man who commands a starship."

"Diana, don't start that bullshit. You're making more out of it..."

Diana pressed her lips to his for a second to cut him off. "Let us enjoy what thrills us, please. And you might as well get used to us wanting to know more. We can be told now — the General said so — and we want to be."

Jeff just sighed and changed the subject. "What's all this about wearing uniforms when the guests arrive for the wedding?"

"Well, you've seen the room in the basement where all the serving staff uniforms are? The staff that used to work for Frank. I used those as a pattern and had a shop make us uniforms with our crest and interlocking MM on the shoulders. That's what UPS brought Friday."

"Di, aren't you going a bit far with this?"

"Certainly," she giggled. "That's what is so much fun about it. Your wives are all into this, bigtime. So don't hurt anyone's feelings and say something derogatory about our little game. Besides, it was either your wives becoming the staff, or Frank would have to bring in a group of strangers to take care of the guests. Having a large number of guests in here for a couple of days will be stressful enough. I don't want serving people in here that none of us know, as well."

"It just seems like one hell of a lot of work for my wives."

"Oh, come on, Baby, even Dave's wives are helping out, just like they do when we prepare meals. We all clean bathrooms, make beds, vacuum and cook, so adding a few extra people isn't such a big thing."

"'A few, '" Jeff repeated with emphasis. "What the heck do you call a lot? And Frank is worried that some of these people will talk down to us because they will think we're staff."

"So?" she quietly giggled. "In case you haven't noticed, you don't have a single wife who doesn't cover every inch of the ground she stands on — as I've said before."

"Yeah, I know. Heck, that may be one of the reasons I'm worried. I'm afraid someone will grab Arlene's butt and she'll break a finger for him, or toss him over her hip, like she did that punk on the farm. That would be an embarrassment for Frank and Margaret."

"Not to say anything about pissing you off and your stomping the prick's ass," Diana choked out to keep from laughing loud enough to wake her sister-wives.

"Yeah, that too," Jeff quietly agreed, the amusement showing in his voice.

Diana kissed him again, the kiss transforming from love to lust as she licked his lips, then pushed her tongue into his mouth. Breaking the kiss, she whispered in his ear. "I've going to turn over. Slide it into me and make gentle love to me, then put me out. Just leave it in when you come. I want to sleep with your cock in me like we used to."

Diana bit the back of her hand to keep quiet as Jeff did as he was bid. A few minutes later, he pumped his sperm into her as she passed out. But sleep wouldn't come for the Prime — again. Last night, he had only slept a few minutes, the night before, only a little more than that. Fatigue was beginning to rear its ugly head, but when he closed his eyes, the feelings were back — feelings that had no direction other than making him ill at ease.

He pulled himself gently from his wife, then carefully made his way out of the bed without waking anyone. Looking back, he smiled at his sleeping wives and Kayla. Diana was already including Kayla in everything the wives did. He wanted to kiss Diana again, but worried that she would wake or he would wake some of the others. She's going to wake up with a sticky groin in the morning, but it sure won't be the first time.

Walking into the closet, he shut the door before turning on the light. After putting on undershorts and a tee shirt, he turned the light off, then returning to the bedroom, he pulled his jeans back on, then a fresh pair of socks. Shortly, by the night-lights in the hall, he padded toward the kitchen. After starting a pot of coffee with the smaller coffee maker, he stood under the big monitor that was mounted above the cabinets at the end of the kitchen. Instructing the computer, he slowly cycled through the security cameras. When his coffee was ready, he took a big mug down, filled it and sipped as he finished with the cameras. The wind was calm, the moonlight on the snow making it almost seem like day.

Peaceful — beautiful. So why am I uptight? Why can't I sleep? Thinking back, he realized that his sleep problems didn't just start a couple days ago, but had gradually been getting worse. I don't need nearly as much sleep as my wives, but I do need a lot more than I've been getting. He wished he could wake Little One; surely she could help.

Refilling his coffee mug, he smiled to himself. Here I am worrying about not sleeping while I'm walking around drinking coffee in the middle of the night. But my body has become so accustomed to my drinking so much coffee, that I can literally drink a cup while lying in bed, then snuggled to my wives and immediately go to sleep. Well, used to, that is. But it isn't the coffee that is bugging me, it's my mind. I can't seem to shut it off. I keep worrying, but I don't know what I'm worrying about. Shit!

Topping up his cup, he left the kitchen to quietly walk the halls, silent in his sock feet, thinking. Finally, on the third floor, his mug empty, he sat in a small alcove staring out a back window toward the helipad and outdoor range. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why this feeling of ... dread? What has changed? I'll tell my wives — again — to be on the alert for any change. But hell, they even tell me when a substitute UPS driver shows up on the security system, and I meet him instead of my wives doing it. Not that it happens very much,  he smiled to himself. UPS and FedEx drivers probably fight for this route. Where else do they get a cup of coffee, hot chocolate and a sweet roll, not to mention the tips, all delivered by a beautiful young woman. Heck, even that female driver gets a red carpet rolled out for her ... What the fuck is wrong with me?

-------

Kayla woke and raised her head a little to look toward Jeff. He wasn't there. Sitting up, she glanced about in the dim bedroom lighting before easing out of bed. After glancing in the bathroom to be positive he wasn't there, she quickly slipped on yesterday's shorts and pullover top, cinched her belt and shoved her Glock .40 cal under the belt in the small of her back, pulling her top down over it. She had adopted the weapon so that she would use the same ammunition and weapon as the other women. Absently, she ran a hand through her hair as she left the suite and trotted down the hallway.

Where the crap is he? she thought, but suddenly she knew. He's there, she said to herself as she turned her head. Above me on the other end of the building. She didn't know how she knew; she just did. Oh fuck, I guess I'm really one of them now.

As she passed the kitchen, she impulsively turned in. Bet he made coffee,  she thought as she pushed the door open, the aroma of the fresh brew hitting her even as the thought did. She pulled two of the big go-cups down from the rack, filled them and screwed their lids down tight. In the hallway, she jogged toward the back, got on the elevator and pressed three.

In the hallway on the third floor, she, without thought, oriented herself toward Jeff and walked quietly in his direction.

"You always sit alone in the dark?" she said as she handed him the coffee a couple moments later.

Jeff chuckled as he took the coffee, smiled at her in the dim light, and nodded his thanks. Then in answer to her question, "Do you always follow guys around in the middle of the night?"

"I do when he's my mate and he's worried."

Jeff patted his lap. As she sat, he grunted when the butt of the Glock jabbed against his belly. "I noticed you were wearing that yesterday. What gives? And I'm almost certain I already know why, anyway."

"You probably do," she said as she twisted the lid on her coffee and took a very tentative sip of the near-boiling liquid. "General Whitworth took me aside and changed my duties slightly." At Jeff's grunt, she hastened on, "He said it looked like the girls were now an integral part of your family, and would need less from me. He also said his wives had talked to the girls and they had given me rave reviews — whatever that means, but I think all that was just a bit of blowing smoke to cover the real issue. He ordered me to always go armed. He did tell me I didn't have to wear my pistol to bed or in the shower," she laughed. "But he got his point across."

"So your new job is to..."

"Protect you," Kayla broke in. "Probably was from the beginning, to some extent, since he knew I would do my best to protect you if it was ever needed. But now, he's worried about something."

"Kayla, I don't need one of my wives..."

"So, I'm a wife now?" she teased.

Jeff sighed, "No, not until we say our vows, but you have..."

"All the privileges," she giggled.

Jeff laughed even though he was trying to be serious. "I love you, Kayla. I feel toward you just as I do my wives. Let's just say you're my mate, until we get around to saying our vows."

"Sounds good to me," she said, and with a smile, settled back into his arms.

They sat for a little while, sipping their coffee, just enjoying each other's company, then, "Uh, Baby, about this new ... emphasis the General has given you, well ... Look, Kayla, there's no way to say this but straight out. I can take care of myself. You need to let me do that..."

"I'll slow you down and get in the way in a firefight, right?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say it just like that."

Kayla sighed. "Jeff, I've watched you on the range at the base when you didn't know me from Adam, then saw what you did on your new range here. And remember I've watched you in action on the vids..."

Jeff chuckled, "'From Adam?' You,  my mate, would never be mistaken for a man. Not with those things," he said as he gently dragged his hand across her braless breasts.

"Oh, shit. Don't do that. I didn't take time to put on any panties. I'm already dripping in my shorts from what you put in me when we made love, and if you play with my boobs, I'll wet myself even more." Pushing his hand away from her breasts, then holding the hand, she continued, "At any rate, I know what you can do. If it ever comes to it, just do your thing. I'll watch your back and do what I can. I'm good. Really good, according to the firearms instructor, but I have zero combat experience..."

"Wrong," Jeff said. "You took out Ingles in a heartbeat. You instantly reacted when he unexpectedly came through that door. You showed remarkable combat instincts. If you hadn't beaten Carter and Jones, Ingles would have been dead. You accessed the situation and stunned the good doctor before Carter and Jones blew him full of holes. A person either has combat instincts or they don't. Training will enhance them, but if they aren't there to begin with, they can't be taught. Everyone on the team, and especially those two, praised what you did. We would never have learned some very important information if you hadn't reacted so quickly. Not only did you save his life until we could extract the information, but you will have saved many other lives before this is all over. Lives of women who would have been, or are, slaves even as we speak. So you do have, at least, some combat experience."

Kayla sipped her coffee, not agreeing with him. "But still, I worry that I'll freeze up when the time comes. I want to be on your team so bad it hurts..." As Jeff started to say something, Kayla quickly touched a fingertip to his lips. "I know I'm not good enough — don't have the experience — for your team. Those people worked their way into your team. I just ... want to be there one day."

Jeff just looked at her. No fucking way will any of my wives ever be on that team. I would worry myself to death, and ... endanger the team, he admitted to himself, by not concentrating on what was going on and keeping the overall picture in my mind.

Realizing, Kayla quietly giggled. "Might consider keeping me — what's the expression? — barefoot and pregnant, else I might just make that team one day."

"Damnit, Kayla, you're a fucking anthropologist, not a combat specialist. You're..."

Kayla sealed her mouth to his, bringing the conversation to an abrupt halt. Later, still worried, Jeff sat staring out into the night as she slept nestled in his arms.

-------

Shortly after 5:30, Diana brought her Prime a cup of coffee. Smiling, she leaned over to kiss him and whisper into his ear, "It was obvious she was going to find you when she left. And it's equally obvious that she has taken to heart what Whitworth said."

"Di, I..."

"Let her do her job. She might just be better at it than you imagine. Now, can you still not tell me why you are upset? Is it like the time you saved us from that eighteen-wheeler?"

"Di, I just don't know. Sometimes, I just know that I need to do something — right then. This is different. I just feel ... uneasy. I've checked everything I can think of to check. Our vehicles are good. The doors on the retreat are solid. The railing on the driveway seems secure. I've stood at the bottom of the driveway and checked it out with binoculars in case there might be something getting ready to cave off from the face of the cliff. I can't see anything wrong. There aren't any cracks or land shifts. The drive itself is free of ice and snow. The computer will warn us if anyone approaches or a helicopter or plane starts this way, but nothing I do seems ... right. I just don't know what the fuck else to do."

"Do you think it has anything to do with Frank and Margaret's guests?"

"Doesn't feel that way. Hell, I don't know. It's just a feeling of ... dread. I'm just ... uneasy. I feel like I'm forgetting something, but that isn't quite right either. Shit, the only way I can describe it is to say that I feel ... uneasy, if that makes any sense."

"Well, you're scaring the crap out of all of us, that's for sure. And you don't have to say be careful. Your younger wives started going over our emergency plans again as soon as they got up this morning."

-------

MONDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 14

THE RV IN FLORIDA

Tanks serviced, the freezer and refrigerator stocked, Fred and his women pulled out of the campground and headed south.

Jessica, playing with the GPS, said, "According to this, there's a Waffle House about fifteen miles down the road. What about it?"

"Sounds good to me," Fred answered as he brought the rig up to speed.

"Eating always sounds good to you," Carla called out from the living room, laughter bubbling in her voice.

"Don't knock it," Jessica giggled. "He has to make a lot of sperm."

"Well, I think I got my share," Brenda laughed. "I feel like I did on our honeymoon. Remember that, Baby? I couldn't even do anything the second night because of being too sore. Not quite that bad this time, but I can sure tell that part of my body has been used."

"Well, I wasn't a virgin, or at least I didn't think I was, when Fred first stuck that thing up me, but it sure felt that way the next morning," Jessica laughed.

"Ladies, ladies," Fred laughed, "if you keep that up, you're going to swell my head."

"Which one?" the women all called out in unison, then broke into laughter as they realized what they had done.

Having a wonderful time, laughing and joking, they rolled on.

-------

DENVER

Because of Guterrez' continued griping, Vasquez gave in and decided to take four of their group with them, instead of the two he had previously decided on. Vasquez paid the others off and sent them on their way.

"So what are we going to tell them?" Guterrez quietly asked so as not to be overheard.

Vasquez looked his partner in the eye. "Nothing. They damn sure don't need to know anything about that healer thing. That's our ticket for life. We do the job today; I pay them off, and we go on our way. If they ask more, just tell them it's need to know, and they don't."

Guterrez propped against the Suburban. "There's just too many fucking variables in this. It worries the shit out of me."

Vasquez glared at him. "What the fuck are you talking about? We have enough info to get the job done. We find that thing, torch the place and get the fuck out of Dodge. I'll wait a couple of weeks and call the politician — if we haven't figured out a way to make money on the deal without him by then." Nodding his head toward the Hagewoods, "You just need to keep a close watch on those two dumb fucks in the SUV. I don't really give a shit what our 'bosses' say, if the Hagewoods give us too much shit, we'll just pop them and leave them in a ditch somewhere. After we get that healer thing, I don't care what the fuck happens. If it's convenient to make it look like this Matthews guy and these two shot it out, we'll do it, if not, we'll do what we have to."

"Yeah, but now we have two fucking bosses."

"Well, he had the codes and he put a bonus in the same account without having to ask anything. The first guy said someone else was fronting the money, and besides I talked to the first guy after I talked to the politician. He wasn't all for it, but he knew about the politician calling me. I think they're having their own little power struggle. Fuck 'em; who cares? The money is in the account. If Mr. Politician doesn't put the rest in after the raid, we'll still have the healer thing, anyway." Vasquez stopped for a second, then, "You know, I didn't pay any attention to start with, but after thinking about it, I believe the first guy is military. There's just something familiar about the way he talks, not that it makes any difference. But still..."

"Makes you really wonder who this Matthews guy is," Guterrez broke in. "We need to be extra careful."

"Just don't light somebody up with a burst. No fucking way will the cops believe the Hagewoods had automatic weapons — not without the cops making a big push to find out where they got them. We keep our weapons on single fire unless the shit hits the fan. Understand? And you make sure the other guys know I mean it. We work this right, we'll get the rest of our money from a pleased politician, plus that healer thing, too."

"Okay, okay. I've already told them the plan. I'll make sure they understand."

Vasquez waved to the others as they stood back waiting. "Okay, let's load up," he called out. "We have some time to kill. We'll get a good breakfast, then go by the cleaning service and pick up our van."



-------

Chapter 72

Jeff sat in the living room waiting for breakfast to be ready. The three new girls, Nat, Nicki and Whitney, came in to stand before him. They glanced at each other, then Whitney tentatively said, "Sir?"

Jeff smiled at her and reached over to take her hand. "Why so formal? We're waaay past that. And what's wrong with calling me Jeff like I asked?"

The girls looked at each other and blushed, remembering the orgasms he had given them.

Nat turned to her "sister." "Oh, just tell him, Whit. I told you it wasn't a big deal."

Whitney tried to be calm, but said in a rush, "Well, uh, Diana said we could go with Evie and Dave today, but we forgot to ask you, even though we're in your charge. Diana tells us you're also our Prime, and you said you would marry us one day. We should have asked you earlier about the trip, but we got all excited about it and forgot."

Jeff grinned, then surprising her, pulled her down for a deep kiss. After that, he made sure he hadn't slighted the others, then tickled them a little until they were all giggling. Finally, "If Diana says something is okay, then it is — she's our Queen. Leaving the retreat is a big thing with the Hagewoods running loose, but they're after me, and shouldn't even know you three exist. Dave and Evie are in and out all the time and haven't had any problems. Just stick close to Dave and do whatever he says — instantly. Okay?"

Almost bubbling, they agreed, thanked him, then ran back toward the kitchen to help with breakfast.

Monday morning, the big kitchen was its usual hub of activity. Shortly, Alesha hurried off for her ski resort job. Joyce, dressed in civvies today, left to sit in a hostage negotiation class in Denver, mumbling about just shooting the bastard and there wouldn't have to be any negotiations.

Caitlin was right behind her, kissing Jeff and telling him her list was growing, referring to the things she had found "wrong" at the hospital.

"Hang in there, Baby," Jeff said after her goodbye kiss, swatting her lightly on the ass.

Caitlin put her hand on Jeff's cheeks as she looked down at him. "Might reserve a little extra time for Joyce tonight. She's taking being sent to this class as an insult, no matter what the Sheriff says."

Jeff sighed. "Tate is a good guy. I suspect he's covering his ass to some extent, but just in case Joyce gets in another hostage situation, he might just be covering her ass a lot more. You know the news media would have a field day if she had to kill someone else right now. And ... things like that have happened. Some guys go a whole career without having to kill anyone, then others have to kill several. Have to. Two back-to-back shootings would make her look trigger-happy, though. If she has additional schooling about hostages, she can say she did it by the book, and the news will have a harder time trying to prove she did something wrong. Remember, with most of the news services, they try to make the cop out to be in the wrong. Joyce is walking on thin ice right now. If it hadn't been for that anchorwoman in Denver, the news would have tried to make Joyce look bad, instead of showing her to be the heroine she is. What really scares me is she knows it. That might very well cause her to hesitate in a shootout, and that would get her killed."

"Oh, shit. I didn't need to hear that," Caitlin said.

"As you say, she needs some extra loving from all of us. She talks about this class being boring, but she's going to be sitting there reevaluating what she did that night. And she's already done way more than enough of that. Second-guessing isn't good in her line of work, particularly under fire. Second guessing under fire will get you killed. Also, chances are, the instructor is going to call on her to tell the class just what happened that night. She's going to have a stressful day — probably a very stressful one. We'll be waiting on her when she gets home, and I'll do my absolute best to get her mind off her day."

Caitlin kissed him again. "Gotta run. All this makes my problems seem small. See you tonight."

Joyce, Caitlin and Alesha had to eat first because of having to leave for their jobs. The rest loaded their plates a few minutes later, and were able to eat at a more leisurely pace.

Dave had watched Jeff's interaction with the two wives. When they had gone, Dave, worried about his Prime, looked over at Jeff. "In all due respect, my friend, you don't look so good this morning. Still can't sleep?"

Before Jeff could answer, Kayla injected, "I found him sitting in an alcove on the third floor last night, just staring out into the darkness. I slept sitting in his lap. I doubt if he even closed his eyes. At least, every time I roused, he wasn't breathing like he was asleep."

Dave frowned. "Jeff, ol' buddy, I'm getting worried about you. Why don't you wake Little One up and have her check you out? Nobody can do without sleep forever."

Jeff put his forkful of pancake down, his appetite waning. "She says she was able to partially tap into the energy of the dimensions a while back, but wasn't able to use or control all the power that is available. Her self-modifications this time are supposed to again increase the amount of that power she can use."

Dave frowned as he considered. "How can she have that much power going through such a small body..."

"She doesn't. She utilizes the power — guides and controls it, as best I can understand what she tries to tell me. And ... I have no real idea what this 'power' actually is. Hell, I don't even understand how she heals us, or enhances our bodies."

"And you still don't know what keeps bugging you?"

Jeff sighed. "I don't know if there is anything at all, other than I feel ... uneasy — and it's getting worse, instead of better."

"Like something is going to happen?" Dave said, becoming more concerned. "Maybe we need to put this little trip off for a few days."

"No ... No. There's nothing wrong with your taking the girls to the zoo, or introducing them to your in-laws. As a matter of fact, that sounds good to me. Whatever this is, it doesn't concern that. At least I don't have any bad feelings about your trip, if that makes any sense."

Frank, Margaret and Captain Madison had been listening. All of them remembered the plane crash, of course, and after seeing the videos where Jeff's hunches had saved his team, Frank cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Jeff..."

"No," Jeff said before Frank could ask. "I don't have any feelings about you guys. Hell, I don't have any feelings about anyone. I just feel uneasy, and it's bugging me something fierce. I'm so fucking groggy from lack of sleep, and that's also driving me crazy, but when I shut my eyes, the feelings become worse — lots worse."

The conversation continued, but Jeff's mood didn't change. Later, on the monitor, he watched the helicopter leave with Frank, Margaret, Bill, Kathy and Jill aboard. Shortly, Dave, Evie, Linda, Kim, Susan and the three girls were headed for Denver and the zoo.

Helen herded her group of students toward the classroom, but Diana and Arlene held back. Both wanted to stay with Jeff for awhile.

A couple moments later, Jeff, Diana and Arlene were standing in the hallway just outside the kitchen. Diana took her husband's hand. "Hon, why don't you go back to the bedroom and try to take a nap? None of us are going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen. The only thing we have planned is the cleaning crew is coming in for their usual Monday cleanup. I've already arranged with the company to have a larger crew here Wednesday to give the whole place a once-over before the guests get here. Maybe with a little sleep, some of your anxiety will go away."

Jeff leaned against the wall. "Crap. Maybe you're right. But I think I'll just stretch out on my recliner in the living room. I'm so tired my brain feels like mush. I can't believe this is happening to me. Even when I have been in combat and had to do without sleep for days, I could sit and catnap to refresh myself. Now, every time I shut my eyes, this ... this ... whatever it is, comes back."

"Dad, go on in the living room, then. I'll bring you a glass of warm milk..."

Jeff made a face. "I always like very cold milk, especially with fresh doughnuts," he tried to joke. "I don't think I've ever tried hot milk, and I'm not sure I want to now, either," he chuckled.

"Well, you're going to get it, anyway," Arlene said as she stood on tiptoe to peck him on the mouth. "I'll be there with it in a minute."

Jeff made a face, but winked at Diana. When the women made up their minds, it was simpler to face the inevitable and do their bidding. What the heck. One glass of warm milk won't kill me,  he thought as he turned toward the living room. Moving his recliner near the fire, he waited.

Shortly, Arlene came in and handed him the glass of milk, then stood waiting as he took a tentative taste, shrugged and downed the milk.

"How was it?"

"I like it better cold," he chuckled, "but it went down."

Arlene leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. "Why don't you go to bed? The crew is supposed to clean up in here, at least dust the room, and clean the fireplace. You can't sleep with them in here."

Jeff sighed, for some reason not wanting to go to the bedroom. "Just tell them to do this room first and get it over with. Even if I sleep all day, I don't have anything scheduled, anyway."

"Okay, we'll tell them to come in here first." Arlene started to walk out, then suddenly turned back to her father, "Dad, I love you. I love you as a father, and I love you as my mate, too. You know that don't you?"

Jeff reached up to put his arm behind her neck, pulling her down to him. Gently kissing her, trying to project his love, he answered, "Yeah. I know you do. And I love you more than life itself."

"Good," she giggled. "We'll talk about babies, later." Giggling at his expression, she ran out the door to find her mother and tell her what Jeff said about having the crew clean the living room first.

-------

DENVER

After breakfast, Vasquez and Guterrez dropped the others off at the motel, then went on to the cleaning service to pick up their van and work orders for the day.

A little later at the cleaning company, "Regular cleanup at the Matthews' place just like always," Vasquez said as they got into the van and tossed the day's work orders on the dash. "You still uptight about this?"

Guterrez grimaced. "Yeah, but I've been this way on missions before. Let's just be careful."

"Always," Vasquez said as he started the van.

They unloaded the floor machines and other equipment at their rented mini warehouse building, so they would have room for the extra people, placed the prepared insulation panels in the van, then went back by the motel to pick up the others. Shortly, the six mercenaries and the Hagewoods were rolling toward the retreat.

"At least I won't have to be a fucking janitor after today," Guterrez chuckled.

"Well, I bet we've set some kind of record for the highest paid 'janitors' ever," Vasquez said with a laugh. "Everything goes down the way it's supposed to, we'll pay everyone off and have a big chunk of change in our account to boot." He had said it loudly enough so that the Hagewoods could hear in the back. Vasquez winked at Guterrez as they turned onto the Interstate, both of them knowing that the Hagewoods would both be dead if everything went according to plan.

Later they swung onto the first county road near Martha's restaurant. "Pull the curtain back a little so I can talk to the guys," Vasquez said loudly, knowing that they could hear him, but trying to reinforce his earlier, supposed, accidentally overheard comments about paying everyone off. When Guterrez pulled the insulating curtain open, Vasquez said, "We're going to start up some steep roads, then when we get to the driveway, it will really be steep. I'm not sure whether the security cameras have sound or not, but we're going to assume they do. So be fucking quiet. I mean dead quiet. It's important they think there's just the two of us in the van. Everyone understand that?" he finished, raising his voice.

When they all acknowledged, he reinterated, "One fucking peep out of you two — and I'm talking to the Hagewoods now — and I'm going to shoot you both dead. One fucking peep. I'll tell you just before we get to the drive. When I do, get hold of something to hang onto as we climb that steep driveway. The building itself is made like a fucking fortress. If they figure what's going on and lock us out, we'll have to blast the door open to get in. Then we'll have a gun battle in a fucking hallway, and they could hold out forever. Damn sure long enough to call for help. The phone and power cables are buried, but Guterrez will take out the phones as soon as we get in the building. Just do your jobs like we planned and everything will work out just fine."

Vasquez and Guterrez passed a look. Vasquez wasn't satisfied, and knowing that the silenced weapons would make little noise, particularly pressed against a body, he called the four mercenaries in the back by name, then, "Either of the Hagewoods even grunt going up that driveway, I want you to kill both of them. Understand?"

"With pleasure," one of the mercs said as the others chuckled. "With pleasure."

Father and son looked at each other in the dim light. Neither said a word.

Guterrez secured the curtain.

Vasquez looked over at his partner. "Here we go," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

As they turned into the drive, they dropped into their prearranged rhetoric in case the security system could hear them:

Vasquez chuckled. "So, what has that no-good brother-in-law of yours done lately?"

Guterrez grinned back at his buddy, knowing the camera was picking up their images. "You mean other than laying on his ass with a beer in his hand and watching TV? Said he went looking for a job — said. I suspect the bastard is lying like always. Course he's been fired from so many jobs, he could be telling the truth. Who's going to hire him? Not nobody that knows him; that's for sure."

IN THE RETREAT

The monitor came on. VEHICLE IN DRIVEWAY IDENTIFIED AS CLEANING VAN. DRIVER IDENTIFIED AS VASQUEZ. PASSENGER IDENTIFIED AS GUTERREZ.

Unknown to Jeff or any one of the others who were watching and listening to the security system, it had delayed a few microseconds between the time it identified the van and when it cleared the two people in the front seat. The delay, in terms of human time, practically didn't exist, but to the computer it was, indeed, a long time. During that time, the new AI searched its database for an anomaly that its programming had no answer for. The big compartment behind the driver didn't match with the original scans of the van on previous visits, but there were no other heat sources showing in the back from its IR imaging system, or it would have reported them. But change, indeed, less heat in the back compared to an earlier visit, wasn't yet programmed in. For this, Laura would later blame herself over and over. But ... she, Ann, Helen and Arlene were developing the program, and it was already far more advanced than any attempt to create an artificial intelligence had ever been on Earth. The program simply wasn't finished — not nearly finished. They just hadn't gotten around to the subroutine that would respond to a change of less heat in the back of the van. If the computer had detected heat sources from concealed bodies in the van, it would have instantly alerted, though.

Jeff sat up when the computer made its announcement, and he even told the computer to bring the sound up. But all he heard was the two familiar cleaning guys bullshitting about the brother-in-law of one of them. Chuckling, Jeff told the computer to mute the sound, and laid back to close his eyes again. His sense of something wrong was strong, but then it had been for days now. Sighing, he tried to shut his mind off as the fatigue claimed him and he drifted off to sleep.

The van climbed the driveway unchallenged. Murphy was, indeed well, and had seized the opportunity.

-------

THE HIDDEN BASE

Monday morning staff meeting finally behind him, the General eased into his seat at his desk, a sigh escaping him. Bringing the wall-mounted monitor to life, he looked at the ship as it — she, he corrected himself after remembering what Colonel Matthews had said — sat in the big underground hanger. Every time I look at that thing, I wonder if she's playing with us. We've never found any obvious armament, but Matthews says she's lethal — very lethal. Of course, there are large areas of the ship that we can't get into. Shit, do I turn Matthews loose in that thing? Do I go with him and risk leaving someone else in charge of my base? Logic says I don't turn something that powerful over to one man, but when I'm with him, I fucking trust him. Shit, trust isn't even a strong enough term. But here, when I have time to think, I ... worry.

We need to go back to that planet and really explore the whole mountain. But thinking about it, I doubt if that hangar, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, would open up again without Colonel Matthews — it damn sure didn't before I sent him there. And with the equipment and men we can push through the portal with its limited size opening, we'll get our asses handed to us by those aliens. They obviously didn't build that mountain facility, but they damn sure know it's there, and those fuckers shoot at anything that moves.

If I send Matthews in the ship, I haven't a clue what would happen. The ship is too valuable to risk. Matthews says she's sentient. If she is, she might just decide to stay there, or go somewhere else. And ... there's always the possibility that we might run into some of the aliens we've met on other planets. Aliens who have space technology. Then I risk losing the ship again. Shit!

Of course, sending Matthews is a misnomer. That would presume that I have real authority over him, and I've already found out what going head to head with him accomplishes,  he thought, ruefully. An officer only gives an order when there is a reasonable expectation of that order being obeyed,  he reiterated to himself. While normally that certainly isn't a problem, Matthews is ... different. He's served his time as far as he is concerned; damnit, he has me by the balls, and he knows it. The old adage about leading a horse to water but you can't make him drink. Ordering him back to duty would be taking a big risk that he would tell me to stick the order up my ass. I do know that if he takes a mission, though, he'll complete it, but he's already told me he's satisfied with his life. Hell, who wouldn't be? With all his money, and wall-to-wall beautiful pussy, how can I tempt him? Besides, I'm not real sure that Queen of his wouldn't come after me if I ordered him back to duty,  he smiled, joking to himself, but half-serious, anyway.

And this thing about a Prime. Sitting here at my desk, these many miles away from Matthews, it all seems ... unreal. But when I'm with him, I believe in this Prime thing. And ... he did heal Barbara. My second wife would be dead now if not for Matthews. I owe him for that. Owe him a debt that is beyond me to repay... 

He was interrupted by a knock on his door. "Come," he absently called out.

His aide stepped in. "General, Lieutenant Campbell asked me to tell you personally that those files were ready and on your computer."

Whitworth leaned back in his chair and looked up at the sergeant standing before him. "How long you been with me, Jim?"

The sergeant grinned back at him. "All together, a little over twenty-five years, Sir. You know that, Henry. Why do you ask all of a sudden?"

The General looked at his old friend for a moment, then, "Sometimes I wish you had finished your schooling and gained the rank you deserve."

"Bullshit," the sergeant laughed. "I work for a living," he returned with a sergeant's standard response.

There was a moment of silence as the General made a decision, then, "Jim, there's some shit stirring, and I think it's starting to come to a boil. We have a major leak. Everything points to it. You're the only one here that I would absolutely trust with my life. Just watch yourself and keep your eyes and ears open. Don't be obvious about it, but keep a weapon to hand and keep alert. Shit happens and you have to blow somebody's ass away, I'll back you."

"Shit, Henry. You sure we got a leak?"

"Ninety-nine percent."

"Can you tell me anything about it?"

"A lot of seemingly unrelated things until recently. I've set a couple traps and they have been sprung. When I know something absolutely, I'll tell you. You just be there for me."

"You know I will."

"Yeah, I do," Whitworth said. "That's the reason I'm telling you this now. This is big, Jim, and they're playing for keeps. So watch yourself, and help me watch my back, please. And I mean that in a literal sense."

"Always," his aide said. "Always."

After the sergeant left, Whitworth brought his computer up and found the new directory Lieutenant Campbell had put in the General's private folder. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he began reading.

-------

THE RETREAT

"They're here," Diana said as she and Arlene watched on the monitor in the kitchen. The cleaning van had turned and was backing toward the rear door, so the cleaning people could unload the floor machines onto the stoop as always.

"I'll get the door," Arlene said.

"No, we'll both go," Diana injected. "We're going to be doubly careful today just like I told Jeff we would."

As they walked down the hall, Arlene continued, "Sometimes I wonder about those two," she said, referring to the cleaning people. "I mean, it's nothing they have done, though. Most men stare at us to varying degrees, some obviously undressing us with their eyes, but these two guys seem to go out of their way to keep from offending."

Diana looked over at her daughter. "Maybe they're taught to do that. One complaint from us would probably get them taken off this route, or maybe even get them fired. The cleaning service isn't cheap, and I imagine they service a lot of expensive homes in the area, so you can bet it's a lucrative business. They can't afford to hire people who would make women feel uncomfortable in their own homes."

"Well, I'm sure not complaining, and we do keep our bras on when they're here. But still..."

The van had backed to the stoop, and Vasquez and Guterrez were standing on the little porch waiting on them.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Diana said as she pushed the door open.

"Morning, Ma'am," both acknowledged.

"Come on in out of the cold. We need to discuss a couple of things," Diana said as she ushered them through the mudroom and into the hallway. "Did the people at your company tell you about the wedding?"

"No, Ma'am," Vasquez said.

"Well, it's Friday night. I've arranged for a thorough cleaning on Wednesday, and your service said they would provide enough people to get the job done. Today will just be the usual Monday routine, though, but I want you to complete the living room first. My husband hasn't been sleeping very well lately, and he's going to take a nap in there this morning. The girls ran the big vacuums through the room last night and cleaned the big window also, but I want you to give the place a thorough dusting and also have you clean the fireplace out. So I would like for both of you to concentrate on the living room first, then when that's done, just go about your usual routine while my husband takes a nap."

As she was talking, they were all walking down the hall toward the living room.

"Yes, Ma'am. No problem. Sorry to hear that Mr. Matthews is having problems. We'll be quiet and get through in there as soon as we can."

Vasquez nodded to Guterrez as they neared the living room doorway. With a quick step toward the women, they each jammed a stunner against a throat and pulled the trigger.

They lowered the unconscious women to the carpet and both men walked quietly into the living room to find a deeply-sleeping Jeff. They both jammed a stunner against him and pulled the trigger. Much to their chagrin, Jeff struggled to sit upright, even as they continued to shock him. His movements were uncoordinated and jerky, but he wasn't out. Frustrated, Vasquez dropped his weapon, it's charge almost depleted, and pulled a sap from his pocket. A vicious strike to the back of Jeff's head and he collapsed back to the recliner.

"Shit! I've never seen anybody do that," Guterrez gasped out after the adrenal surge. "Anybody I've ever hit with one of these things just dropped like a rock. We both hit him and kept the shock going, but the fucker still tried to fight us. Shit!"

Vasquez, worrying that Jeff would awaken, said, "Quit bitching. Help me roll him over and get the ties on him before he wakes up."

"No, shit," Guterrez said. "If he wakes up before we get him secured, we'll have to kill the son-of-a-bitch right here. Shit, that bastard is strong."

Quickly, they yanked Jeff's hands behind his back, putting plastic cuffs on his hands and feet. "All right, that will hold him for now. Go get the others before someone discovers the women in the hall. Nice for mother and daughter to volunteer for us like that," Vasquez joked, now that the tension of securing Jeff was over. "I knew this fucker would be a problem; I just didn't expect him to fight the stun like that. Now hurry. I'll stand guard until you get back with the others."



-------

Chapter 73

In the following scenes, many things happened in close order, or even simultaneously.

THE RETREAT

Vasquez pulled the stubby submachine gun from under his uniform smock, screwed the long silencer on and again checked to make sure a round was chambered. Leaning against the doorway where he could see down the hall, plus keep an eye on Matthews at the same time, he waited impatiently for Guterrez to bring in the others. The women generally stayed in the classroom while the cleaning crew was in the house, and he hoped they would do it this time as well. He didn't want to start spilling blood in the hallway if he could help it; he wanted that bonus he would get if they could make it look like the women died in the fire.

In the back, Guterrez casually walked out onto the stoop, glancing at the security camera. They didn't know exactly how the security system worked, but he and Vasquez had seen the system identify the UPS drivers. The two mercenaries had carefully made their plans so that the insulated door of the van should block the camera's view as the others got out. After he motioned with his hand, the four mercenaries and the two Hagewoods followed prearranged instructions to hunker down behind the door as they exited the vehicle.

He left the door open and followed the others inside, relaxing somewhat as the security system remained silent.

Inside a moment later, Guterrez nodded to the Hagewoods and said to one of the other mercenaries, "Give them their weapons."

With the pistols jammed into the Hagewoods' belts, Guterrez stared hard at father and son, "And you two understand this: Either you follow the plan, or Vasquez or I will kill you. No discussions; no arguments; just dead. Keep those guns in your belts unless the plan goes to shit. You two just keep mother and daughter occupied in their suite. We'll tell Matthews that you have the two women held hostage and they won't be released until we're ready to leave. You two want your revenge, so fuck them or whatever you want to do with them, but keep them in that bedroom out of sight until we come to you. We'll bring Matthews and let you finish him."

Looks like the dumb fucks bought it,  he thought. Well, hell, this might just work. We'll get paid, get the bonus and still wind up with that healer thing.

While Guterrez was talking, they had neared the living room. "Where's this suite, you were talking about? Shit this place is big," Hagewood Senior said, looking around.

"Take a left at the end of the hall back down there," Vasquez said, pointing behind them. "I think it's the last door on the right. We've never been in their suite, though. If you can't find it, just pick one. Doesn't really matter. We'll find you when the time comes. They usually leave most of the suites unlocked."

"We'll find it," Senior said as he reached down and effortlessly threw the unconscious Diana over his shoulder.

Junior was struggling with Arlene. Exasperated, Guterrez picked her up and threw her over Junior's shoulders in a fireman's carry. Junior staggered and almost fell with her, but Vasquez steadied him. "Shit, Kid. You sure you're man enough to fuck this gal?" he sneered.

Junior didn't say anything since even being near Vasquez terrified him, and Guterrez was always cramming a pistol barrel in his mouth. Junior's front teeth were still loose from the last time at the cabin.

"I'll make it," he mumbled, staggering hurriedly down the hall as he tried to catch up with his father.

Vasquez pointed at one of the mercenaries. "You stay with Matthews. And watch that son-of-a-bitch. Guterrez and I both shocked him, and the bastard almost got to his feet, anyway. I finally had to hit him with my sap to put him out. Those are the big cuffs we put on him. A bull couldn't break them, but be careful, anyway."

"Ah, shit, I..." the mercenary started to gripe, not wanting to be stuck with guard duty, but Vasquez had already turned away.

Guterrez walked out of the kitchen with the retreat book in his hand. "Shows the phone box near the back basement door on the inside. Piece of cake," he said, trotting down the hall toward the basement stairway door.

Vasquez left one mercenary in the hallway to guard, then he and the other two mercenaries jogged down the hall, stopping by the classroom door. Glancing at each other, one mercenary yanked the door open and they all quickly entered, their weapons leading the way.

There was a gasp from the women and Ann started to her feet, but Vasquez shoved her roughly back into her seat, her explanation of surprise cut off, "Wha..."

The women were startled, but not nearly as scared as the mercenaries had expected. "Just sit tight, Ladies, and no one will get hurt. Start screaming and someone dies," Vasquez snarled as he pointed the vicious looking little weapon at first one and then another of Jeff's wives.

-------

In the Matthews' suite, Senior tossed Diana onto the bed as Junior staggered in with Arlene. Leaning forward with a sigh, he allowed her to slip off his shoulders onto the bed. Both women were awake, their nerves jangling from the electrical charge, but their coordination was rapidly coming back.

Senior grabbed Diana's shorts and yanked shorts and panties down her legs to her ankles. Fumbling, he got her tennis shoes off, then finished with her shorts and panties. By now, Diana was starting to struggle, so he backhanded her. Yanking her top off, he took his pocketknife out and slit her bra in half between her breasts. As her long breasts wobbled into view, he unconsciously licked his lips. "Shit! Those have got to be the best looking tits I've ever seen," he said, leering as he folded his knife and returned it to his pocket.

Arlene was a little slower recovering than her mother, and Junior managed to get her naked without too much trouble. Arlene mumbled something and tried to pull away when Junior turned her onto her stomach, but her limbs didn't want to obey her, feeling like they were still partially asleep, but she, like her mother, was fast regaining use of her body.

-------

In the schoolroom, Vasquez counted the women, but he was unsure how many there should be. It seemed like there was a different number of them at the retreat every time he was here, and since he never saw all of them together, he had only a vague idea what the total should be. "Where's the rest of you," he snarled, turning to Laura.

"They went to Denver," Laura answered, honestly.

Vasquez remembered meeting a SUV that looked like one of the Matthews' just after he turned off the Interstate, but with the darkened windows, he hadn't been able to see much of the inside. He just accepted the explanation, since they would either find any other women or girls as they searched for the healer thing, or they wouldn't. The fire would take care of any stragglers.

"You stay and watch the women," Vasquez said to one of the mercenaries. Then to the women, "Again, Ladies, nothing will happen if you behave yourselves," he said in a very serious-sounding voice. "We know what we're doing. As soon as our job is done, we'll be on our way. If you start any racket, someone will die, though."

In the hallway outside the schoolroom, Vasquez looked at the last mercenary. "Go straight down that way, turn left and go to the end of the hall. Take station there near the inside garage door. I really don't know how many women live here, and the place is too big to search in a short period of time. If you see anyone in the hall, just herd them into the classroom with the others."

"Piece of cake," the mercenary said, then turned and jogged away.

Vasquez headed for the basement and Jeff's lab. Now to find that fucking drawer where he keeps this healer thing. Fuck, I wish I knew more about what it looks like. Translucent about the size of a book. Shit. Gotta find it though. That fucker is worth a hell of a lot of money. And speaking of money, there's bound to be a safe around here somewhere. If I can quickly get it open, there should be a good chunk of money in it. Might be in their suite, if it's not in Matthews' office. Oh, well, find that healer first.

Hurriedly, he opened the basement door and started down. Guterrez should have the phones off by now. He can help me search. Now where's that fucking lab?

Shortly, he was at the bottom of the stairs and met Guterrez. "You get it?"

"Yeah, the phone box was right where the diagram showed it."

"Good, come on with me. That must be the lab over there," he said, pointing. "You can help me search."

The door was locked, but judicious use of Vasquez' small pry bar corrected that.

"Shit!" Guterrez exclaimed as they entered the lab. "There are fucking boxes of shit everywhere." (Jeff had recently gotten several shipments of lab supplies.)

Vasquez pointed. "There's a door over there. Maybe it's the office that politician talked about."

(Note: Jeff has an office in his lab for lab related work, but has a business office near his suite.)

Inside, they looked around. "Better in here. Not nearly as much boxed up," Guterrez said.

Vasquez started for Jeff's desk. "I don't think they've been here too long. By the looks of things, he still has a long way to go to get everything set up in that lab — if that's what it's going to be, but his desk looks pretty well straightened up."

Vasquez pulled a drawer open, then turned to his buddy. "Take the disk drive out of that computer," he said, nodding. "That should pretty much bring us up to date on his latest invention, but by the looks of things, that fucking politician has jumped the gun, though. This place doesn't look like he has an invention almost ready. Shit, not if he's going to use much of the equipment in that lab. Anyway, get to it."

Knowing they would need to open at least one computer, Guterrez had brought a kit with him, but he didn't even need a screwdriver to take the side off Jeff's computer, since the thumbscrews made it easy.

Vasquez was turning drawers onto the floor when there was a loud "Whap," from the computer.

"What the fuck was that?" Guterrez said, jumping back as he stared down at the computer he had put on its side.

"How the fuck should I know?" Vasquez shot back. "You're the one fucking with it. Did you unplug it first?"

"Hell, yes. But when I started to lift the side off, it made that noise, and..." he sniffed loudly, "that smells like wiring burning."

"Fuck," Vasquez said. "He had the damn thing booby-trapped. Take the disk drive out, anyway. Get the backup, too, if there's one in there. Maybe whatever he did to the computer didn't fry the backup."

"Shit!" Guterrez exclaimed a few seconds later after taking the side off the computer. "Fucking disk drive is red hot, and ... the backup is too. No use fucking with them."

"All right," Vasquez said, kicking the last drawer across the floor. There's no healer thing in any of these drawers. Fucking politician sent us on this mission before we knew enough. No telling how many 'drawers' there are in this place. 'Drawer in his office, '" he quoted, sarcasm dripping. "Fucking son-of-a-bitch. I told both of them we should wait until we gathered more information."

Kicking a stack of paperwork aside, he strode to Jeff's office door. "There. There's some file cabinets over there. Look through those. I'll look over here."

-------

While Vasquez and Guterrez were just beginning their search of the lab downstairs, Jeff had regained consciousness in the living room. Even though Little One wasn't on his shoulders to help him, he was a Prime — an enhanced Prime, but his mind was sluggish from the blow. His consciousness coming back as if he were walking from deep within a cave. Suddenly, in his mind, he heard Diana screaming for him, almost causing him to start and thus show the mercenary he was awake, but he managed to still the reaction in time. Pushing the blinding pain from the blow aside, he opened his eyes a crack and saw an unfamiliar armed man. The ensuing adrenalin rush cleared Jeff's head a bit more — he had only one chance.

The mercenary, bored, had looked out the window for awhile, then walked over to turn his back to the fire and stand staring at Jeff. Apparently hearing something, the mercenary started to walk back by Jeff who was still lying on the recliner, his hands and feet plastic-cuffed. Just as the mercenary got even with Jeff, he curled his body backward, then lashed out with his feet with all the strength he could muster — a Prime's strength. Both boots caught the mercenary under the chin, lifting him violently upward, slamming his head back, instantly snapping his neck. His body didn't even twitch, mostly because no signals could get to it through the severed vertebrae.

Jeff curled back again and snapped himself to his feet, then hopped to the fireplace, Diana's screams for him becoming more frantic in his mind. "Hang on, Baby. I'll be there as soon as I can," he tried to project to her as he fought to remain rational and solve his problem. He turned his back to the fireplace, then squatted and hunched backward until his hands encountered one of the large pieces of firewood. Pulling it onto the marble hearth by the non-burning end, he looked behind himself for a second. Gritting his teeth, he steeled his mind and jammed his bound hands over the burning end, forcing the plastic cuff down against the burning wood, keeping his fists tightly closed to protect the inside of his hands. Locking his teeth together to keep from screaming as he felt the flesh on the inside of his wrists beginning to bubble, he pushed downward with all his strength. The fire heated the plastic, weakening it, and an eternity later, it gave.

Turning, his hands now free, he grabbed a smaller piece of wood by the end that wasn't burning, and held the burning end to the leg ties, trying to be careful and not set his jeans on fire. As soon as the plastic gave, he tossed the wood into the fireplace, then ran across the room and jerked a drawer open. Grabbing a hidden .45 and two magazines, he hurried to the door, glanced to see the hall was clear, then charged toward their suite, fighting to keep his mind at an even keel as Diana repeatedly called for him, desperation in her mental voice. The mercenary who had been stationed near the back door was looking out the back as Jeff crossed the intersection a hundred feet from him, then turned toward their suite.

Inside the suite, Junior, in his eagerness, had dropped his pants, causing his pistol to fall onto the carpeted floor. Arlene was on her hands and knees, but had now begun to buck and thrash around to keep Junior's dick away from her entrance as feeling continued to return to her numbed limbs. Frustrated, Junior grabbed a handful of her long hair with his left hand, and tried to guide his cock to her pussy with his right. When she thrashed as he pushed forward, he pulled hard on her hair, arching her neck backward to try and anchor her until he could get his dick in, planning to grab her hips while he fucked her.

Senior had put his pistol on the nearby dresser and was struggling with a desperately fighting Diana.

I vowed to Jeff and to God that no other man would ever enter me. This son-of-a-bitch will have to kill me to do it. He may rape my dead body, but he won't do it while I'm alive. "Jeff, we need you," she screamed to her husband in her mind.

Diana managed to get partially loose from the big man, but as she slid to the side of the bed, he grabbed her leg. Turning onto her back, still thrashing, she kicked out at him, managing to get a glancing blow to his groin with her bare foot, breaking his grip on her other leg. She fell off the bed as she kicked, landing on her back for a second before trying to dive for her dresser drawer where she kept her gunbelt and pistol.

It was a big bottom drawer, and she managed to get it pulled open, but Senior was on her before she could reach in and get her gun.

Jeff came through the door — on a mission — to grossly understate his killing rage. With three quick steps to the bed, he grabbed Junior by his long hair, tilted his head back, put the muzzle of the .45 against the base of Junior's skull, making sure that the round would go high when it exited Junior's head, and pulled the trigger.

Diana had managed to get to her gunbelt, and was thankful for the level one holster which only had a thumb snap to release her Glock. Grabbing the butt of her weapon, she pushed her thumb against the strap and whirled to her back with a sneer marring her beautiful face. You're going to die, you son-of-a-bitch. If Senior had been looking down, he would have seen death staring back up at him.

When Jeff had come through the door, Senior had reached for his gun, but by the time he had his hands on it, still standing over Diana, she had brought the Glock to bear. Her first round went through his balls, and angling upward, eliminating any prostate problems he would ever have. The second round went through his belly button, as she walked the rounds up his body, and since he was above her, the bullet continued upward into his lungs. The third round hit just under his chin and continued on into his brain where a .45 round from Jeff's weapon had just scrambled Senior's mind to oblivion.

"Oh shit!" Diana gasped out as she tried to roll away before the mountain of a man toppled onto her, but she didn't make it. "Uuumph," she grunted as she pushed against his body a couple seconds later, struggling to get out from under him, his blood pouring onto her. "Get this bastard off me!" she yelled.

Jeff was suddenly there, and grabbing Senior under the armpit, threw him against the wall as if he weighed nothing.

Arlene was busily kicking Junior's dead body in the crotch, mumbling, cursing and crying at the same time.

"Where are the others?" Diana hissed out.

"I don't know," Jeff returned as Arlene, hearing them, suddenly ran to get her weapon, Junior forgotten. "Those two, uh, Vasquez and Guterrez stunned me. Those son-of-a-bitches are dead. Dead, when I catch them. They better not have hurt any of my wives, I'll..." Suddenly he stopped, forcing back the anger that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Jeff, your arms," Diana said, reaching forward as she focused on the strips of skin hanging down, and saw the blisters on his burned wrists.

"No! Not now. Get some clothes on and we'll go find out what's going on."

Opening Little One's drawer, he took her out. "Little One, I need you now!" he shouted out to her mentally.

The alien Healer had left a small part of her brain on watch as she went into hibernation. Hearing her Prime, she initiated her emergency startup protocols, the urgency of his mental call driving through her like a hot knife through butter. New systems within her that had taken two days to almost finish were trashed as she fought to bring herself online; she could always rebuild everything later. Struggling, she forced herself back from hibernation to send a feeble mental acknowledgement.

Jeff put her on his shoulder and her automatic functions came on enough to keep her there.

Diana started to protest taking the time to put on clothes, but when Jeff had picked up Little One, Diana grabbed a pair of shorts and yanked them on, then pulled a top over her head, while Arlene did the same. Ten seconds later, each with a weapon in hand, the three cautiously exited the bedroom. "They must have heard the gunfire," Diana quietly said, her ears still ringing from the rounds fired in the bedroom.

"Not necessarily," Jeff countered. "Depends on where they were. This place is so sound insulated, that they just might not have."

The mercenary that had been looking out the back door had thought he heard something, but didn't know quite what it was or where the sound had come from. Instead of turning toward the Matthews' suite, he had headed back toward the living room where they had left Matthews.

Kayla, who had been in the theater watching some of the combat vids the General had left with her, had also heard what she thought were gunshots, but with the video running and the insulation, she, too, was not sure.

Glock in hand, she stepped out of the room — directly in the face of the mercenary who was hurrying for the living room. Smiling at him, as if she did it every day, her left hand pushed against the long silencer as she stepped inside the weapon's killing field and brought the .40 cal up to the mercenary's face, some part of her brain telling her he would be wearing body armor. Two tugs on the trigger and he was on his way to Hell before he fully realized that Kayla was a threat.

-------

The school classroom was a temporary one while the crew built the real one on the second floor. To give Helen a place to store some of their books ready to hand, Dave had brought in two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and placed them ninety degrees to the wall near the interconnecting door to the next room. Helen had set up her temporary office in the other room, and in addition, they were also using that room for a project area until their classrooms were finished.

Helen had been in her office and walked back into the temporary classroom, suddenly walking past the bookshelves into the room, a remote in her hand, totally unaware the mercenary was in the classroom. "I found it, finally..." she started.

The mercenary, not realizing there was a door behind the book shelves, then suddenly hearing Helen and seeing something in her hand out of the corner of his eye, spun and fired, his combat reflexes taking over. A split second before his finger pulled the trigger, he realized there was no danger, and that might have been what saved Helen's life. The round hit her high on her right rib cage, almost missing her completely. Almost, but not quite. At a flat angle, the projectile hit a rib, cracking it, then deflecting slightly and beginning to tumble, exited near her back. Most of the bullet's path was barely under the skin, but it left a deep open gash that became larger as it neared her back. The bullet slamming into her rib was not unlike being hit with a sledgehammer, though. She went down, blood speckling the wall behind her.

The women screamed — all the women screamed. Then chaos erupted as several scrambled to help Helen, overturning chairs in their hurry to get to her.

"Stay in your fucking seats," the mercenary yelled as he took a couple steps closer and grabbed Laura, shoving her hard toward her seat. But Jennie, the one whose father had taught her to be afraid of guns; the one who had the most problems on the range when Jeff was teaching them to shoot; the one who worried she would never be good enough in a gunfight, felt a fury engulf her that was beyond anything she had ever imagined. This bastard had shot Helen. In the middle of the table where Jennie was sitting was a line of books that were held in place by bookends. Almost without thought, her training taking over, Jennie jammed her hand through one of the thin, fake spines of a pseudo book, the Glock inside suddenly feeling like an old friend as her hand closed around its butt.

The mercenary saw the sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and was starting to turn when Jennie put the Glock to his ear and pulled the trigger twice. (Double tap as Jeff had taught her.) The submachine gun had been silenced, causing only a cuffing sound plus the sound the action made in ejecting the spent 9 mm casing when he had shot Helen. Jennie's .40 cal wasn't silenced, not that the mercenary heard anything, though, because most of his brains were now on the wall behind him as his body collapsed to the floor.

-------

As Jeff, Diana and Arlene rounded the corner behind Kayla, the mercenary she had shot, already fully against her, fell forward almost taking her down with him. As she turned to the others, Kayla's face was speckled with blood from the blowback as the bullets struck the mercenary's face so close to hers.

"Where are you hurt?" Diana and Kayla said at the same time, for Diana's face was also covered in Senior's blood.

"I'm fine," they both answered together.

"What's going on?" Kayla asked.

"We don't know, other than Vasquez and Guterrez, apparently with some of these guys," Jeff said, as he kicked the dead merc, "are in the house. They stunned me, and the Hagewoods tried to rape Diana and Arlene."

Kayla didn't even bother to ask about the Hagewoods, knowing that Jeff would have killed them.

Down the hall toward the inside garage, the other mercenary stepped around the corner about forty yards away, his weapon already coming to bear on them. Kayla was looking straight toward him when he rounded the corner, and she squeezed off a round slightly before Jeff could, since he had to step aside to shoot around her. Kayla's round caught the mercenary in the right shoulder just above his body armor, causing his hand to jerk as the force of the bullet tearing into his shoulder shorted out nerves. He never felt much, though, since Jeff's .45 caught him perfectly between the eyes a half second later. The silenced weapon, coughed out a stream of bullets that walked partway down the hallway floor before the weapon fell from the mercenary's hand. He had not heeded Vasquez about keeping the weapon on single fire, though it did him no good in the end.

Kayla snatched up the submachine gun by her feet and snatched two magazines off the dead mercenary's belt. Hurrying down the hall, the trio stopped beside the classroom door. Jeff motioned the women back, then kneeling to the side, he eased the door open, but it was anticlimactic since the women knew where Jeff was all the time and knew it was him at the door. Melissa called out from where she was holding Helen, Melissa's voice quavering, "Jeff, we need you. Helen has been shot."

Jeff stepped over the dead mercenary, and did a quick check on Helen, where Melissa was holding pressure on the wound with a pad from the first aid kit. The small alien had already told him she was now fully functional, so he put her on Helen's wound. Turning to the others, he said, "Let's get everyone in the kitchen and get the place sealed up. I can deal with these bastards then. I think Helen is going to be okay. It's a bleeder, but I don't think the bullet hit anything vital. Little One will take care of her."

"Get your weapons," Diana called out, but it was a moot point by now, since all the women had guns in their hands. Ann took the automatic weapon and magazines from the mercenary Jennie had killed. Jeff pushed the .45 into his belt in the small of his back, then kneeling, he scooped his unconscious wife into his arms.

As Jeff and Diana had entered the classroom, Arlene and Kayla looked at each other and quickly spread out, taking up stations down the hall a way on either side of the classroom door. Kayla had gone back toward where she had shot the mercenary near the theater. Arlene had walked down the hall a little way toward the intersection of the hallway that led to the inside garage and the door to the basement.

-------

In the lab, Vasquez had heard several thumps and wondered if it could have been gunshots. Pressing his mike button, he called the mercenary in the living room. Nothing. After repeating the call, he tried the two he had left on guard in the hallway. Then the one in the classroom. Nothing.

Vasquez and Guterrez looked at each other. "Go check on them," Vasquez ordered. "Might just be this insulation fucking the radio up. I'll keep looking for that healer thing. Be fucking careful. If Matthews got loose, this could all go to shit."

"No fucking way could he break those plastic cuffs," Guterrez said. "Probably just all the steel this place is made out of that's blocking the signal. Be right back. Soon as I get upstairs we'll probably be in touch. No way can a bunch of women do us any real harm," he added as he hurried out the door of the lab.

Vasquez had found another desk in a corner behind some boxes, and was attacking the drawers with a vengeance, muttering about stupid politicians.

Upstairs, Jeff had walked out of the classroom with an unconscious Helen in his arms. Jogging toward the kitchen, he was almost to the door when Arlene heard the basement door click closed. She sprinted closer to the corner, then stopped to quietly shuffle sideways, one slow step at a time, "slicing the pie" as Jeff had taught her, her weapon in both hands thrust out before her ready to fire, her heart in her mouth.

Jeff had also heard the door close, and shoved Helen into Diana's arms, staggering her, Laura grabbing Helen to help. He pulled his .45 from his waistband and started down the hall, but even as he did so, he saw Arlene at the intersection of the hallways and knew he was too late.



-------

Chapter 74

 ... Jeff had also heard the door close, and shoved Helen into Diana's arms, causing Diana to stagger, Laura grabbing Helen to help. He pulled his .45 from his waistband and started down the hall, but even as he did so, he saw Arlene at the intersection of the hallways and knew he was too late.

Jeff figured one of the mercenaries had to be in the hallway, and was probably doing the same thing Arlene was. (Slicing the pie at the intersection.) He also knew he would never make the intersection in time, and that Arlene was doing this because all the women would be vulnerable to the mercenary's fire once the mercenary came around the corner.

Jeff saw Arlene tense up and knew it was now or never. Bringing the .45 up, he began firing. Arlene flinched when the first round hit the chandelier's chain in the corner of the two hallways a few feet above and past her. Four more rounds hammered out of the big pistol so quickly they almost sounded like one. The chandelier's lights went out as its wiring and supporting chain were severed, and it came crashing down. But Arlene with her quick mind had already figured out what her father was doing.

The area she was in was now a bit darker than the area behind the mercenary, which caused him to cast a slight shadow. That's all she needed. She now knew exactly where he was. She stepped around the corner, her Glock already firing.

Guterrez had heard Arlene as she approached the intersection. He was no dummy, and indeed, had practiced and used in combat what both he and Arlene were now doing. Confident that he was going up against a civilian, and more so, a woman or girl, he wasn't overly concerned. Indeed, he was more worried about Matthews — he assumed it was Matthews — who had just shot well enough to cut the chandelier down.

He and Arlene had seen each other a split second before she began firing. But Arlene, being Arlene, had already pulled her top up, exposing her breasts, and Guterrez lost a half second as his eyes were distracted by the two beautiful mounds. That glance at her breasts almost negated his training edge.

Arlene's first round just touched his cheek going by. Her second caught him just under his left eye, but ... he had gotten a round off as well. His round hit Arlene just under her left breast. The military ball ammo in the small 9 mm submachine gun went through her and out her back, spraying blood as it did so. She collapsed without uttering a sound, as did Guterrez.

Jeff was there seconds after the fight. Glancing at the dead mercenary still twitching on the floor, the Prime quickly knelt by his daughter.

"Did I..." she managed to sigh out, barely a whisper.

"Yeah, you did, Baby. You killed him dead. Now let's get you taken care off."

Jeff stuck the .45 under his belt, picked his daughter up and ran as only a Prime could, her weight unnoticed in his arms, the terror of what had been done to his daughter driving him.

The women were holding the door to the kitchen and as soon as he was inside, Laura slapped the button that would seal the room. The steel door slid out of one wall and deep into the other with a final sounding clang, the door to the dining room doing the same.

"How is she?" Diana cried out as Jeff knelt to put Arlene on the floor. Laura snatched the Healer off Helen and handed her to Jeff, who put her over the wound in Arlene's chest. No sooner had Little One locked into place, she sent out a mental pulse so strong that it temporarily stunned everyone in the room. Both Jeff and Diana, already kneeling beside Arlene, slumped forward for a second. Kayla staggered and went to her knees. Everyone was disoriented for a short time. By the time they could focus again, there was a deep orange glow surrounding Arlene and Little One.

When Jeff tried to touch Little One, his hand felt practically no resistance, but just slid away from her. The same thing for Arlene. He tried to mentally call Little One, but there was no answer, instead there was a void where she should have been in his mind. Although Arlene seemed to be faintly glowing, the brightness was greater around her wounds and around Little One.

"What's Little One doing?" Diana hissed out, the tears pouring down her face, all the women now crying.

"I ... I got a deluge of information when she did that ... thing. That broadcast, I guess you could call it. Crap, maybe a memory dump or something. I think that glow is some kind of field to stop time, or slow it down, if I'm interpreting correctly what she sent. But the information wasn't meant for me. She was calling ... It came across as 'Mother or Momma, ' although I know that's not right. But she's calling for help. There's no doubt about that part of it."

"Stasis field," Helen, now conscious, shakily said as she struggled to push herself to a partial sitting position. "The glow is something like a stasis field, I think."

"You shouldn't be moving around," Ann chided as she gently hugged her sister-wife, sliding behind to support her.

"Little One stopped most of the bleeding. I'll be okay," but her weak and shaky voice belied her words.

Jeff whirled to Laura. "There," he said, pointing to the small appliance garage on the back of the kitchen counter near where she was standing, "Get the satellite cell out for me."

-------

THE HIDDEN BASE

General Whitworth sat reading through the files that Lieutenant Campbell had sent him from Colonel Buckmann's computer, the frown on Whitworth's face deepening. Suddenly he sat bolt upright. Hitting the intercom, "Get me Colonel Matthews on the phone. Now! And I mean right now!" he yelled.

In the office, the sergeant spun around and pointed at a clerk, but the clerk was already pulling Whitworth's personal phone list up, and was soon dialing. After a moment, the clerk shook his head and looked at the sergeant. "It rings, then I get an 'out of service' message."

"Make sure you dialed the right number. Dial back. Keep trying," the sergeant snapped over his shoulder as he jogged toward Whitworth's door. Inside, a couple seconds later, "Sir, no answer. All we're getting is an 'out of service' message on his home phone." But the General had already dialed Jeff's sat phone and was listening to it continuing to ring.

Whitworth was just about to hang up when an overly-loud voice came on the line, "Hello, this is Laura."

"This is General Whitworth. I have reason to believe..."

"General, we need help!" she broke in, almost yelling. "We've been attacked. Arlene is hurt badly — really, really bad. I think she's dying, but Little One is working on her. Helen has been shot, too."

"Sir!" the sergeant yelled out, pointing to the wall monitor where scientists and techs were scrambling from the Ship like the hounds of hell were after them. He clicked on the audio and winced at the volume of the alarms blaring. To make matters even more chaotic, a team had just left the barracks, running full out toward the Ship. All had their combat helmets on and were carrying their rifles, but one was running barefoot with his boots thrown over his shoulder. They merged with the crowd exiting the Ship. He would give them credit that the team didn't seem to deliberately run over anyone. But there were several civilians on the floor when the team made it to the Ship.

"We're coming Laura," Whitworth yelled into the phone before slamming it back down.

Colonel Buckmann walked into Whitworth's office. "What's going on?"

"On the floor, you son-of-a-bitch," Whitworth yelled out as he pulled a .45 from a hidden compartment in his desk and stood. But the sergeant had already kicked Buckmann's feet from under him and had his 9 mm against the back of the Colonel's head.

General Whitworth was snapping his equipment belt around himself and reaching for his battle helmet as he yelled out, "Strip the son-of-a-bitch naked. Put him in a cell until I get back. If he tries to give anyone an order, kill him. There are two other names on that pad there," he said, pointing. "Lock them up, too. Don't let any of them talk to anybody."

Whitworth picked up his phone and punched in a code. The alarms cut out and the speakers changed to the warbling wail of base full-lock-down. "Get Major ... Oh, there you are Major," Whitworth said, as Major Bailey ran in. "Until further notice from me — personally — my base is under full lock-down. Nothing in or out until I get back. Nothing! And that includes all communications other than mine. You're in command until my return. Nobody ranks you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"This sergeant will advise you," he said, pointing. "You will listen to his advice. Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely," Major Bailey said.

"Sergeant, you will brief the Major on what I told you. There is additional information on the screen there," he said, pointing.

"Sir, where are you..."

But the General had already slipped his battle helmet on, although he hadn't closed the faceplate or activated the computer yet. "You two keep my base intact. You have the authority to do whatever is necessary to do so. With a full lock-down, that shouldn't be a problem. I've got to go," he said as he glanced at the monitor before running out the door, scattering people before him.

The last of the civilians had managed to get off the Ship just as Whitworth burst out onto the floor of the hangar, the Ship rising up about five feet just as he did so, her massive landing jacks disappearing into her belly. "Don't you fucking leave without me!" Whitworth screamed out. Putting his head down, he sprinted, glad that he had continued to run almost every morning throughout his career. The ramp disappeared. "Don't you leave without me," Whitworth gasped out a second time, but he couldn't spare enough air for a third time. Frantic, he found yet another small reserve of strength and concentrated on increasing his speed just a little bit more.

When he was twenty feet from the Ship, the ramp appeared again. The Ship seemed to impatiently wait. Whitworth never slacked up. As his leading foot touched the ramp, he, the ramp and the Ship suddenly ceased to exist in the hangar.

There was a clap of what sounded like thunder in the big cavern. Startled by the noise, women screamed and men yelled, adding further to the pandemonium. A small table holding two laptop computers turned over by the blast of air rushing toward the vacuum caused by the sudden departure of the Ship. The two metal folding chairs that had been by the table, turned end over end to add to the clamor. Small equipment, plastic boxes, loose paper, dust and generally anything that had been near the Ship scattered about as the suddenly empty hole in the air was filled. Then the wind stilled except for a few eddies that caused paper to scurry about for a second before everything came to rest, a faint haze of dust clouding the air.

One of the scientists leaned over and offered a hand to a buddy. "What the fuck happened?" the one being helped up asked.

"I guess that thing just told us to kiss its ass," the other said. "You hurt?"

"No. Just my pride. That big fucker swatted me aside like I was..."

"Yeah, I know, I managed to get out of his way just in time, but that's not what I meant. I've never felt anything like that in my life. It's like there were a million giant spiders after me. I just dropped everything and ran."

The other scientist shivered. "It was different with me. It was like there was something — something unseen and evil, kinda like my ex-wife," he tried to joke, "coming down the alleyway behind me. I've never felt terror like that. Whatever it was, it was worse than any nightmare I've ever had. I still have goose bumps on my arms," he finished, holding an arm out to prove his point.

"You guys okay?" their boss asked, walking up.

"Yes, Ma'am," they both answered, a bit sheepishly.

Doctor Meadowood smiled at them and nodded toward where the Ship had stood, "I guess she gave us a subtle nudge to get the hell out of her."

"That was subtle?" one of the scientists said with a half-chuckle. "Damn, I'd hate to meet pissed."

"We're alive aren't we?" Meadowood grinned back at him. "And speaking of that, wasn't that Colonel Matthews' team? The way they looked as they headed for the Ship makes me believe something, or somebody is going to die — somewhere."

"Wasn't the last guy running for the Ship the General?"

"Looked like him," the other scientist said.

"Generals don't go on missions," the first scientist said.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't about to remind him of that when he jumped over my ass," his buddy returned indignantly.

Doctor Meadowood looked around her. "Anybody hurt?" she called out to everyone. When there was no answer, "All right. Show's over. Let's get this mess cleaned up."

-------

THE RETREAT

Laura hung up the phone. "The General said they were coming."

But before anyone could respond, "She's stopped breathing," Jeff said as he knelt by Arlene's head. Leaning forward, he tried to position Arlene's head so he could breathe for her, but his hands slipped off her chin. Trying again, he met the same result.

"Jeff?" Diana said, agony in her voice.

"It's the stasis field," Helen said as she slowly knelt beside them, Ann helping her.

Helen extended a hand to run over Arlene's side. "See, you can't really touch her. There's almost no resistance." As she pushed her hand closer to Little One, Helen added, "Notice, the field becomes more intense nearer the wound. Near Little One and the wound, you can't feel anything. You can feel her extremities quite a bit more, though," she finished as she ran her hand down Arlene's arm. "Jeff, I think you can lift her if you keep your hands away from the wound area."

Helen sat back on her butt, Ann again helping to support her. "I'm almost sure it's a stasis field," Helen continued. "They're theoretically possible. Obviously, it is more than just a theory with Little One."

"And all this means..." Diana injected, fighting to keep from ringing her hands as she knelt on the other side of her daughter.

Helen sighed, holding her hand over the gauze pad that Ann was taping to Helen's side. "I'm guessing, but if it is a stasis field, then time has stopped for Arlene, or slowed down drastically — and maybe for Little One as well."

"But, how could that heal her?" Melissa asked.

"I don't think it can," Helen said as she tried to take a deeper breath and winced as the pain from the cracked rib shot through her. "I think it's keeping Arlene from dying, though," she finished as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"But that ... mental thing that almost made me throw up," Ann said, then as her quick brain figured it out, "Oh, Little One..."

"Called the Ship," Jeff injected. "If she was successful, it won't be long."

Diana had knelt forward by her daughter trying to stroke her face, sobbing. Jeff, his thoughts going back to the scene in the hall where he had helplessly watched his daughter fall, forced his mind back to the present. Reaching a shaking hand across Arlene, he squeezed Diana's shoulder, and firmed up his voice. "She's not dead yet, Baby. Anyone who is still living when they're put in one of those healing chambers on the Ship will live. We just have to get her to the Ship when she gets here. And I'm almost positive she's coming."

Standing, he began pacing. "Damn, why didn't I store automatic weapons in here? Shit! How stupid was that?"

"We have two," Kayla said. "I retrieved one from the merc I shot, and Ann got the one from the guy Jennie shot. We have three magazines for each weapon. Plus we all have our handguns."

"Good job," Jeff said. "We know the mercenaries had to have come in the van, so there can't be that many more of them. We've killed — what — five of them. But we're going to be vulnerable when we leave here to take Arlene to the Ship."

"You really think the Ship will come?" Helen asked.

"If she heard Little One, she'll be here," Jeff grimly said.

A few minutes later, they felt, rather than heard, a rumble so deep that they could almost see the vibrations it made as the Ship translated to a point high above the retreat.

"That's the Ship," Jeff emphatically declared.

Helen, staring with horror at Arlene, said, "Jeff, the glow is fading."

-------

THE SHIP

The Ship had stopped his momentum, but as the General materialized inside the Ship, he still landed on one foot with the other leg well off the floor, stretched out in front of him. Lieutenant Richardson and one of the troopers caught Whitworth to keep him from falling.

"Well, welcome aboard, Sir," the Lieutenant said with a grin.

"Shit!" Whitworth wheezed, now bent at the waist with his hands propped on his knees as he tried to get enough air into his lungs to keep from keeling over.

"Know what the fuck is going on?" Lieutenant Richardson asked the General.

"Matthews ... been attacked," Whitworth gasped out.

But then the Ship translated back into real space again. Whitworth was sure he turned green, but managed to keep his gorge down — barely. Turning, he saw that the two clear pillars that bordered the control center had something flowing violently through them, that something was an equally violent red that his eyes wouldn't quite focus on. He looked away before his stomach had a chance to really rebel.

Then he almost grabbed one of the team standing next to him as the whole front of the compartment turned invisible — or appeared to. His rational mind tried to tell him it was some kind of viewscreen. Rational thought, however, and a large part of the front of the Ship appearing to be suddenly gone were two quite different things, particularly when the screen was focused downward. It appeared they were hanging a quarter mile above the retreat with a vast hole in the front of the Ship, and they were about to fall out of that hole and strait down to their deaths.

Whitworth gathered himself. "There," he said, pointing, feeling like a fool to be talking to the air. "Sit down there behind the helipad." He knew the Ship would overfill the range, but thought it would fit in before the trees and the ski slope.

Before he really had time to think how much of an idiot he had just made of himself talking to the Ship, the scene in front of him (down), reoriented as the Ship spun, then the ground came rushing up with a suddenness that made him certain he was going to die. There was absolutely no sensation of movement, however.

Seconds later, a wide door (hatchway) appeared and the ramp formed a few feet downward into the snow of the range. Jeff's team was quickly down the ramp and fanning out.

On the command channel, the General could hear the Lieutenant and Sergeant conversing, and on the main channel, the Sergeant as he gave orders to the team. Whitworth didn't interfere, knowing when to keep his mouth shut — rare, indeed, for a general.

-------

A few minutes earlier, Vasquez had quickly finished looking through the second desk, and decided to go with Guterrez and interrogate the women to find out where the healer thing was, since the politician had obviously given them bad information. He had been almost to the top of the stairs when he heard muffled gunfire. He tried to call Guterrez on the radio, but there was no answer. Nothing wrong with the fucking radios. They work just fine; there just isn't anybody to answer because they're all dead. Shit, I need to get out of here. Fucking politician! If I live through this, I'll look that son-of-a-bitch up and kill his ass.

Reversing course, he went back down the stairs three at a time. Fuck, this basement is huge,  he thought, looking around. I can find plenty of places to hide in here, but ... the end result will be the same. They'll get enough people in here to find me. I might get some of them, but in the end they'll blow my ass away. If I give up, I'll spend the rest of my life in prison. No fucking way that's going to happen. I had rather go out fighting. Besides, if they find out what I've done over the years, the government will have something special waiting for me. Fuck it. I had rather take my chances outside. I'm not dressed to survive long in the cold, though, but there's a possibility I can slip down the driveway and raid a house for a car. Might even be able to get to my van before they decide to come outside looking for me. Worth a try. Not as if I have a lot of choices, anyway.

He lost time because the big roll-up door was securely padlocked, and the smaller door was also locked, but he thought he could get that one open. The door made no pretense, though, but was heavy steel that was several inches thick. Finally finding a framing hammer one of the carpenters must have left, he took his small wrecking bar out and went to work on the locking mechanism, hoping he would hear someone if they opened the basement stairway door. Frustrated, desperate, he swung the hammer again and again.

Panting, he sat gathering his strength for a moment, knowing that he was making progress, but if he had been on the outside, the overhang of steel around the edge of the door would have prevented him from getting his bar anywhere near the lock. Taking a breath, he jammed the bar back into place and swung the hammer with a vengeance.

Finally, the locking pin gave just before his endurance did. As he eased the door open a few inches, a cold blast of air hit his sweaty body. Shit, this better be quick or I'll freeze my ass. Briefly, he wondered if there were any coats in the basement like they kept hanging near the outside doors upstairs, but he hadn't seen any, and time was of the essence if he had a chance of getting away.

The snow hadn't been cleared away from the door, and he had to slam it back and forth a few times to get it open enough to squeeze through. Three magazines. I have ninety rounds,  he thought as he thumbed the selector to auto. I'm not going down alone.

He had exited on the north end of the building nearest the helipad and range just a moment or two before the Ship settled silently to hover near the snow-covered ground a hundred yards or so from him. He had ignored the vibrations as it passed overhead high up, because of his concentrating on breaking out of the basement. Coming out from the basement door meant he was several feet down from the level of the back parking lot. The corner of the retreat had a short, decorative wall which extended a few feet from the corner of the building, and the ground quickly sloped downward to the level of the basement where he now stood. That basement level extended around to the front door of the retreat. There, the front door opened into a vestibule where guests were received, and the vestibule also contained the elevator used to go up into the main (first) floor of the retreat itself.

(Note: Walking out the back of the retreat, through the mudroom and then standing on the small porch, or stoop, a visitor would see the parking lot, and directly across the lot and running parallel with the retreat building is the long exterior garage. The parking lot has several large decorative planters with evergreens, and in the summer, various plants, to break up the dull parking lot into a landscaped area. Looking right along the building, near the end is the door to the interior garage. On past the interior garage at the end of the retreat, is a small decorative wall that comes down from a few feet above the ground at about a thirty-degree angle. To the right and downhill is the door to the basement at that lower ground level where Vasquez had just forced the door. The helipad and range are situated a hundred yards or so beyond the retreat, well past where Vasquez is and slightly above and slightly to the left of the parking lot. The retreat is a big building.)

Vasquez crept up the slope in the deep snow, keeping close to the building. Sliding himself into a small niche at the junction of the wall and the slope, he lay on his belly and peeked over the top of the short wall to survey the back parking area, not bothering to look toward the range, since he was still slightly below that level. Nothing. Extending his head out as little as possible, he could see his van still parked at the back door by the stoop.

He had just decided to make a run for the van, when the mudroom door popped open. Two women came cautiously out, (Kayla and Ann) each carrying one of the mercenary's small submachine guns with the long silencers. They quickly spread out and started in his direction.

Well, shit! Nothing like donating weapons to the fucking cause,  he thought sarcastically. But what the fuck are those bitches up to? he wondered as he eased back down into his hiding place in the snow, his body barely concealed behind the short wall. He rubbed snow on his cap and on his cleaning uniform, trying to better camouflage himself. Checking behind himself, he glanced toward the range even though he still wasn't quite high enough to see ground level back there. But he could suddenly see the Ship.

What the fuck is that? his overloaded mind wondered as he looked toward the mountain of gray. It looks like ... ah, fuck. Whatever the fuck it is, I need to get out of here.

He quickly looked back toward the van, again exposing as little of his head as he could as two more women, these holding handguns, came out of the retreat. Watching the women, he cursed the politician. The women weren't military, but they damn sure weren't a bunch of civilian women scared out of their minds by a few guns, either. The first two women had come toward him a little way, going to cover behind the big stone planters. The second two women, (Jennie and Melissa) leapfrogged past the first pair before they found cover or concealment and waited for the first pair to move up. Matthews came out of the house carrying one of the women, (Arlene) while another woman (Diana) attempted to steady him as he took the couple steps down to ground level. Another woman, (Helen) obviously wounded, was being helped by yet another woman (Laura). The pair with the automatic weapons got up to change position, coming closer to Vasquez and the end of the building.

I guess they're going toward that thing in the back,  he thought, glancing back at the Ship. Fuck it. It doesn't matter,  Vasquez thought. They're still a bunch of civilian women. I can't just lie here, though. They'll see me when they get even with me. I'll just let them get close, then start with full auto, working from the front to back. They'll panic when I start killing them. Matthews can't fight back; he's carrying one of them. I'll worry about whatever the fuck that thing is behind me when they're all down. I might just get my ass out of this mess after all.

Vasquez unscrewed the silencer from his weapon, expecting the sound of gunfire to rattle the women more. Then he heard Matthews yell, "There, by the end of the building!"

What the fuck? There's no way that son-of-a-bitch can see me. I'm covered in snow, and barely had my head out enough to see anything,  he railed to himself.

He just managed to get his head down in time as Kayla sent a short burst where Jeff indicated. She obviously couldn't see him, but the bullets zipped by only inches over his head, a couple touching the top of the bricks, the ricochets screaming away.

Fuck. That's the first time I've been shot at in the open by silenced weapons, particularly my own fucking silenced weapons, and I don't fucking like it, he groused to himself.

Hold the fucking trigger down and empty the magazine, he thought, but Kayla didn't fire again, saving her ammunition. The other woman (Ann) fired a short burst, but Vasquez thought it was Kayla firing again, the bullets howling off the top of the wall so near that chips of brickwork rained on him, or whizzed angrily by.

The firing picked up as the other women joined in with their pistols. Now all the fucking bitches are shooting,  he thought as he hunkered down more. Automatic fire streamed his way again, also. Just keep it up. When you run dry, I'll kill the bunch of you.

But the women were spacing out their rounds, first one woman, or girl, sending a round his way, then another would fire, keeping him pinned down. Jeff looked down at the fading glow around Arlene, knowing she would be dead if he hesitated. He jogged on, trusting his women as they worked as one, the way they did in the kitchen — the way they did everything together.

Vasquez could hear Jeff's running steps and he wondered why Matthews continued on. Where the hell is he going with that woman in his arms? Why doesn't he just wait me out? Fuck it. This doesn't make sense, but if he's stupid enough to keep on, I'll kill his ass for sure. I'll roll partway over the wall, leading with my weapon firing, exposing my body last. Those women will shit when the bullets start coming their way ... Both of the automatic weapons have stopped firing. Now's my chance while they're fumbling a new magazine in.

But Kayla and Ann had only fired a few rounds from their thirty round magazines. "Now, Kayla. Now!" Jeff yelled out even as Vasquez made up his mind to come up firing.

A lot of things happened in the next second. As Vasquez brought his weapon to bear, he completed what the Ship needed to be able to respond. She could not go offensive without her Prime in command, but she could defend her Master. It was obvious that her Prime's mates were laying down defensive fire, but the human lying in the crevice by the building hadn't done anything to threaten her Master — until now.

Vasquez brought his weapon over the wall, exposing as little of himself as he could. Die you bitches,  he thought as his finger tightened on the trigger.



-------

Chapter 75

We're too fucking late,  Lieutenant Richardson thought as he heard gunfire. "Move up. Move up," he commanded on the main channel.

-------

"Now, Kayla. Now!" Jeff had yelled to Kayla.

But Vasquez turning his weapon in the general direction of Jeff was all the Ship needed for the protocols involving defense of its Master to take effect. An antipersonnel turret formed high up on the side of the Ship, locked on and fired in a space of time almost shorter than anything a human mind could register, the women and the ship firing as one as Vasquez swung his weapon over the wall.

The weapon type had been refined over many centuries and many battles. Not only was it efficient as an antipersonnel weapon, but it was also designed to bring a lasting fear to any battle survivors who might have observed the weapon in action. A clap of thunder followed as the beam superheated the air from the plasma bolt traveling through it at near light speed, but that was only part of the effect. The disruptor beam also associated with it, added its unique sound as well. The beam wasn't designed to disrupt the bond between all the molecules it struck — just some of them. Having your buddy explode, sending gobs of his cooked flesh, not to mention his blood, splattering all over you, was something that would bother most any being, to understate. Plus, the weapon sounded like the crack of doom, anyway.

The Ship alone would know if her beam beat the hail of bullets to Vasquez. Jeff was the only one who could talk to her, and he wasn't interested in anything right now except getting Arlene to the healing tank before the last of Little One's energy was used up and the stasis field collapsed.

Vasquez didn't even have time to realize he was dead as the hail of bullets from the women, for whom he had so much contempt, ripped into his head and the beam from the Ship exploded him in a reeking circle of carnage. If his demise bothered any of the women, they didn't show it. Jeff didn't even slow with Arlene, but just hugged her tighter to himself and kept going. Diana added her strength to Laura's to help Helen increase her struggling gait.

As Jeff and his women left the plowed-out parking lot and reached the deep snow of the range, Jones tossed his rifle to Carter and scooped Helen into his arms. The rest of the team surrounded Jeff and the women, escorting them to the Ship. Jeff, followed by the others, crashed up the ramp and into the Ship where three chambers awaited.

Lowering Arlene gently into the first chamber, Jeff stood to watch the mist form over Arlene and Little One. Diana went to her knees beside the chamber. Looking back up at him, "Jeff, do you think..."

"She'll live," he emphatically started. Then as the Ship filled his mind with updated information, he said again, "She'll live. I guarantee it."

Diana leaned against the chamber and sobbed with relief as Jennie and Melissa knelt to hold her.

"Good," Laura said to her husband as she pointed, "now get your ass in that chamber."

"What ... No way. I'm going to wait right here with Diana until Arlene comes out of the chamber. Then we can talk about my arms. They aren't bad, anyway."

"Bullshit," Kayla said to her mate as she stared at the ribbons of skin hanging down from his wrists and the matted blood on the back of his head. "Get in that chamber like Laura said, or so help me, I'll get the team in here to put you in there."

Jones stood back grinning, watching his colonel get a dressing down.

"Look, Kayla," Jeff tried to reason. "I can wait for Little One to come out. She'll fix me up just fine."

Whitworth walked back in. "He never could take an order worth a shit," he joked. "Son, why don't you get in that chamber before I have to see if you will obey a direct order or not?"

Jeff looked at his General, but now that things were calming down, the pain was starting to really manifest itself, and the dizziness he had been fighting from the blow to his head was getting harder to control. Sighing, he eased into the chamber and lay back. "I want to know when..."

But the mists covered him and the sentence was cut off.

Jones had already put Helen gently down. "You're next," Kayla said to her.

Helen tried to chuckle, but the tears rolling down her cheeks told a different story. "That little jog up here really started the rib back up," she gasped out, holding her side. "I won't try to be macho." Turning to Jones as she held a hand tightly to her bandaged side, she thanked him, then shrugged off the coat draped across her shoulders and let it drop to the deck. Jones and Ann helped her into the chamber, her body soon disappearing under the mists.

-------

Jones and General Whitworth had rejoined the team. Kayla looked at Jeff's helmet as it lay where Lieutenant Richardson had left it on a seat. Putting her coat back on, she slipped the battle helmet on. She wondered if she could figure out what Jeff's activation code was. He wouldn't make it something hard to remember; he might be under attack and need the helmet instantly. What would he use? She said aloud all his wives' names, then several other things, with no success. What would it be? Hmmm. All his wives, except Diana, came about recently, so whatever he used would probably predate their names. But Arlene and Diana would always have been with him — well at least for the last sixteen years. "Arlene and Diana," she said aloud. Nothing. Then, "Diana and Arlene."

Its systems came online, the faceplate closed and the helmet adjusted to her head. She tongued to the command channel, curious to hear what the General, Lieutenant and Sergeant were saying as she walked down the ramp and stepped out into the deep snow. The combat specialists' battle helmets could be mentally controlled, not by any type of mind reading, but the helmets were sensitive to changes in the brain as the wearer concentrated. Just as a cursor could be controlled in this manner on a computer, the wearer could also control various helmet functions if he/she were trained properly. Kayla's regular helmet did not have this function, and not having the training, she was forced to use the manual backup system on Jeff's.

Shorts and a coat with low-top tennis shoes and no socks won't cut it out here. Crap, I must have skinned my knee during our little match with Vasquez,  she thought as her right knee stung when she stepped into the snow. Not bothering to look at the knee she had skinned, she followed a path one of the team had forged through the deep snow.

Stopping as she got to the parking lot, she glanced at her visor to see where everyone was. Two were positioned well away from the retreat at opposite ends of the building, obviously stationed as guards against a merc sneaking out during the search. The Sergeant was inside directing the search. "Sergeant, this is Kayla. I'm extremely familiar with the building..."

"Good. On me," he abruptly said.

She started to tell him where she was and it would take a couple of minutes to get to him, but stopped before she could embarrass herself. As soon as she had activated Jeff's helmet, everyone on the team would know at a glance where the helmet was, and they would also know it was her wearing the helmet, since it would identify her from its database.

She, and everyone at the base had battle helmets, but she seldom had hers on, since her job as an archaeologist certainly didn't require it. Kayla was, like everyone who went off-planet, required to be minimally proficient with them, and re-certify every six months. But a combat officer's battle helmet was an entirely different thing, having more channels for the radio, more sensing equipment and more computing power. Frustrated that she knew how to use so little of the helmet's capabilities, she also knew this would be her last chance to use one.

Shortly, in the mudroom, she stamped the snow from the tread of her shoes, but the shoes were sodden and filled with melting snow. Stripping them off, she stepped barefoot onto the carpet of the hallway, the feeling delicious after wearing the snow-filled shoes. Hanging her coat by the door, as usual, she jogged down the hall to join Lieutenant Richardson and Sergeant Gomez by the first dead mercenary.

Gomez and Kayla opened their faceplates so they could talk without using the radio. Gomez glanced down at her bare feet, but seemed to realize what had happened. Instead of commenting on her feet, he tapped the dead mercenary with the toe of his boot, "Who got this guy?"

Somehow, Kayla felt a bit embarrassed. "Uh, I stepped out of the theater right into him."

"That where you got that ugly little piece of shit?" Gomez mock-sneered at the silenced submachine gun Kayla still carried. But before she could answer, he went on with a grin, "Still showing off those reflexes, huh? Well done, Lieutenant."

"Thanks Sarge," she said, taking his comment as high praise, indeed.

Gomez paused to look down the hallway where Kayla and Jeff had taken down the guard, bent over and picked up two casings, one a .45 and the other a 9mm.

"What happened here?"

Kayla pointed at the body 40 yards down the hall. "I saw him first and clipped him in the shoulder. That gave Jef ... uh, Colonel Matthews, time to get around me and finish him."

"You beat the Colonel to the shot at that range?"

"Never. He didn't have a clear shot because I was in the way."

Gomez nodded knowingly. "Because you were standing between him and a possible threat, guarding him per the General's orders."

Kayla didn't respond but the Sergeant knew he had been right.

Richardson, preoccupied with his helmet readouts, finally opened his faceplate. "Give us a rundown of what happened, Lieutenant."

Kayla did so as precisely as she could without wasting time.

"You know how many of them there were?" he asked when she had finished.

"Not really," Kayla answered. "Other than they would have had to come in the van that's still by the back door. With the one we killed outside, that would have been six, plus the two Hagewoods that Diana and Jeff killed in their suite. Couldn't have been many more than that, judging by the size of the van."

"Nothing showing on IR, or any of our other scans," Sergeant Gomez said, "but we're checking the whole building to be absolutely sure. Gonna take a while. I need you to stick with me, Lieutenant. I don't want to miss anything because we're not familiar with the building."

"Sure thing, Sarge."

Whitworth walked up holstering his .45, his faceplate retracting into his helmet. "Shit, what a fucking mess," he said, looking at the dead mercenary lying in the puddle of blood. "There are three in the halls, one in the classroom, and one in the living room, plus what's left of that one by the end of the building outside. Blood and crap on the walls and floors, not to mention bullet holes."

"Two more guys down that way in what I guess is Colonel Matthews' bedroom," Sergeant Gomez said. "Both of them are buck naked and deader than hell. Blood and brains everywhere. Guess they pissed off the Colonel," he grimly joked.

Whitworth stood and looked around for a moment. "Shit, I want my own forensic cleanup people. Take them a while to get here, but if I call in another agency to clean up, it will be too hard to keep things quiet." After thinking a moment, he looked at Kayla, "Where is everybody today?"

Kayla rattled off where everyone was.

"So they'll all be back late today?"

"Except for Captain Madison and his women, and Mr. Wainwright and Margaret."

"Only one we have to worry about is ... what's her name?" Whitworth said. "The woman who is just living here for a while. She's the only one we haven't used the blocks on."

"Alesha," Kayla supplied, "And Jesse, the county deputy, if he decides to come eat with us."

Whitworth frowned.

Kayla thought for a minute. "Look, I think I can call her and ask her to stay with Jesse tonight. She might wonder, and might even get her feelings hurt a little, but we can make it up to her later."

Whitworth looked around him for a moment, thinking. "All right. Do that. I need to get in touch with Major Bailey and get a cleanup crew on the way." Turning to Lieutenant Richardson, "Finish up the search, Lieutenant, and if you find any more of them, try to take one alive for interrogation, but do not risk any of your people. If the merc resists, just kill him. I think I pretty much know what's happened and everyone who was involved, anyway."

"Yes, Sir."

Turning back to Kayla, "Lieutenant, do you suppose Diana would mind if I made a pot of coffee in her kitchen while I make some calls?"

Kayla smiled at him. "I think she would be proud for you to do that, Sir. I'll be glad to make a pot for you, though."

"Nonsense," Whitworth said with a grin. "I'll take care of it. Even a general can make a pot of coffee." Turning back to Lieutenant Richardson, "When you're done with your search, pile the bodies by the end of the retreat, out of sight, and cover them with a tarp or something until the cleanup crew gets here to take care of them."

"Yes, Sir."

Whitworth turned back toward the kitchen as he fished out his sat phone.

Kayla scanned through the images coming from the various members of the team, then turning to the Sergeant, "There's another door out of that storeroom in the basement that Ward and Torres just entered. Someone could go out the other door and circle around behind them."

Gomez snapped out an order to Ward and Torres on the radio, then motioned to Kayla. "Let's go, Lieutenant. You lead the way."

-------

ON THE SHIP

The mists cleared and Jeff sat up in the chamber, then quickly checked out his healed wrists.

Diana, leaning with her head against Arlene's chamber, sat up as well. "She's still..." Diana started to say.

"I know," Jeff broke in. "The Ship says she's fine. Her heart was ... damaged. That's repaired. Her lung and the other damage will be ... repaired soon. My words are only a gross approximation of what's going on. Suffice it to say, she will be perfect again, and soon," he finished as he stepped out of the chamber and without saying anything more, scooped his Queen up.

Walking over, he sat with Diana in his lap, hugging her to him.

"I let everybody down," Diana sobbed. "After Arlene was shot, I just ... couldn't think. I..."

"Hush," Jeff quietly said, his lips gently touching hers for a second. "You let no one down," he emphatically said, staring her in the eyes. "You took out someone who outweighed you three times over. In another second," he continued as he hugged her and stroked the back of her head, "you would have killed the asshole who was after Arlene. You have united our wives into a group that for all practical purposes acted almost as one being, and acted with ... valor. I have literally seen combat troops who did not act as disciplined under fire. And believe me, that's an understatement."

Diana sat back a little and wiped her hands over her eyes to brush the tears away enough to see. "Jeff, I thought I would die when I saw where that bullet struck my baby. I knew it had to be near, if not through her heart. Jeff, I..." The sobs started again as she hugged herself to him.

Helen sat up from her chamber and rubbed her healed side with her hand, a smile touching the corners of her pretty mouth. As she stood and stepped out of the chamber, she saw Diana crying. "Arlene..."

"Is fine," Jeff broke in before she could begin to worry. "My Queen seems to think that being upset over her daughter, not to mention almost being raped and killed herself, has somehow given her feet of clay."

"She what?" Helen said, the incredulity in her voice evident as she hurried over.

Laura, already sitting close to Diana, hugged her from behind. "I've told her over and over, but she won't listen."

Kneeling by Diana, Helen took her Queen's hand. "Now what's this?"

Diana took a shuddering breath. "I let everyone down. Instead of leading, I just knelt there by Arlene. I prayed to God. I..."

Helen hugged her, also crying. "So? I imagine we were all praying. I know I was. And if you're saying you let everyone down by letting those guys into the retreat, they were here every week. We all trusted them. Practically all of us have let them in at one time or another. And if you're saying you didn't do something in the kitchen with Arlene hurt — well, none of us did. There was nothing we could do, except Little One, and she did it."

"I've told her all that," Laura said, obviously upset about Diana.

The other wives gathered around, kneeling close, or sitting on the big, padded bench on either side of Jeff and Diana. Jennie put her hand over Helen's and Diana's hands and caught Diana's eye. "You practiced with us, over and over. I didn't even have to think when I needed my Glock. I just reached through that fake binder. You helped me learn to shoot on the range, too. I shot that bastard that shot Helen," she said as she turned to smile at her sister-wife and teacher for a second, "and I didn't even have to think. It was also your idea, Di, to buy those fake books to keep our weapons in, too."

"But I went to pieces when Arlene was shot. I just couldn't ... think..."

"And all I did was get shot," Helen broke in. "I contributed nothing. So where does that leave me?"

Jennie came out with a sick-sounding giggle. "Weellll, you did distract him so I could get to my gun and shoot him in the ear. Of course, your getting shot was a ... rather painful way to distract him," she finished.

Jeff hooked a finger under Diana's chin to raise her face a little. "Now admittedly, I was a bit busy trying to carry Arlene while trying to ... sense our ... hostiles, but when I called to Kayla to fire, seems to me that you were shooting as well."

Diana sniffed. "I guess I did fire my pistol, but there's no telling where the bullets went."

Jeff pulled her hard against him, chuckling and rubbing her back as he held her. "You might just be surprised," he said into her ear. "That's where training comes in. Remember on the range when we were raising our weapons and firing at the same target over and over? Repeating the exercise ad nauseam? Doing it faster and faster? I told you then that your muscles were learning so you wouldn't have to think when you had to shoot for real. And besides that, somebody — probably several somebodies — put a lot of bullets into his ass when he started over that wall."

"And, if you did miss, which I doubt," Ann injected, "you were running and we were prone or kneeling."

"I only vaguely remember shooting," Diana quietly said. "All I could think of was my daughter was dying."

Jeff leaned back against the wall (bulkhead) that the bench they were sitting on seemed a part of. "I was proud of my team today."

"Yes. They were super," Helen said. "That big guy grabbed me up and ran like I weighed nothing. I need to thank him again."

"No," Jeff said as he took his thumbs to wipe the tears from his Queen's cheeks, yet again. "I was proud of my team, today. The team I sleep with every night. The team I share my life with. When General Whitworth and my other team get back to that base and get through telling about this, my wives are going to be famous. I just wish we had been wearing combat helmets so we would have a vid to use for training."

Melissa and Jennie stared at each other, realizing that Jeff was serious. "So ... you're really proud of us? I was so afraid that we would let you down," Melissa said.

Jeff chuckled. "I am really, really proud. Whoever set this thing up must have thought they could come in here and terrorize a bunch of helpless women, and instead, that group of mercenaries got their asses handed to them on a platter by those helpless women. On a fucking platter," he finished, laughing out loud.

-------

Later, Kayla walked back into the Ship, only to turn and stare behind her. "That ... door still bugs me. Seems like it could look like a door, at least. When you walk up the ramp, a section of the wall just ... disappears. It doesn't open in front of you, or slide into the wall, it just quits being there."

Jeff smiled at her. "Hmmm, that helmet looks familiar."

Kayla spun to face him. "Oh, shit. I didn't realize you were out of the chamber yet. I ... uh. I hope you don't mind..."

"Hush and come here and give me a hug. You deserve a better helmet than your regular one, after what you did out there. And no, of course I don't mind your using my helmet. Now what's going on?"

Kayla slipped the helmet off, tucking it under her arm, but it was easy to see that she wished she didn't have to remove it. Touching Jeff's face with love, she looked down at his wrists. "Are your arms okay now?"

"Good as new," he said, holding his arms so she could see.

Kayla turned to hug Helen. "Your side good?"

"That ... healing chamber even took the blood out and 'healed' the holes in my shirt," Helen laughed, holding the shirt out a little way from her body to prove the material looked like new.

Diana looked at Jeff and gasped. "I was so upset that I didn't even notice. All that blood on your shirt from Arlene's wound is gone." After a hesitation, "Of course, I assume that something capable of making a person's body like new would be able to take blood out of clothes and mend a couple holes." Grabbing his hands, she looked at his wrists, then kissed them. "I was so upset over Arlene that I neglected you. I'm..."

"Hush, Baby. Enough. No one person could have done what we just did. We each did what needed to be done, and that includes my Queen."

Diana produced a weak laugh.

"Any idea when Arlene will be out?" Kayla said, trying to change the subject as she turned toward the chamber.

Diana slid off Jeff's lap to sit beside him so she could stare at Arlene's healing chamber. Laura again put her arms around Diana as they waited.

Jeff sighed. "I don't really know, but I doubt if it will be a lot longer. I stayed in the chamber a couple days when I was shot, but human physiology was new to the Ship then, and we needed to ... learn to communicate. That's when she decided I was a ... Prime, I guess."

Kayla knew there was a lot more that Jeff wasn't saying, but she didn't pursue it. She had still been holding Jeff's helmet as they talked. "Well, the General sent me to check on things..."

Jeff raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the door/wall, now closed, his meaning clear that the General, via his helmet, could just ask the trooper stationed at the bottom of the ramp.

"Yeah, he could, obviously, but he wanted me to come and personally check to see how everyone was."

Jeff smiled up at her. "Please thank him and tell him that Helen and I are both out of the chambers and fine. The Ship tells me Arlene is coming along nicely and will also be one hundred percent."

"Uh, Jeff?" Kayla said, moving the helmet slightly as she stood with it snuggled under her arm.

Jeff almost laughed, but caught himself in time. He remembered how he had felt the first time he wore one of the command helmets. "Sure, Baby."

"Okay, thanks," she said, her face breaking into a smile. Putting the helmet back on, she activated it, but then opened the faceplate again. After listening a moment, she said, "I didn't know much about the third floor, and nothing about the attic. They've finished the third floor and are about to start on the attic with their search. I helped them with the first and second floors as well as the basement, but I couldn't contribute anything for the other floors."

As Jeff began to frown, Kayla went quickly on, "I just watched via the video feeds and let them know where interior doors were and things like that. Sarge wouldn't let me be an actual part of the search. He said you would 'kick his ass' if he did. And before you ask, sensors aren't showing anyone in the retreat, but Lieutenant Richardson said they were physically going to stick a gun barrel into anything faintly big enough for a person to hide in. He said the material the mercs used in the van to conceal their presence was high tech, and he wasn't going to take any chances that a straggler might have some of it with him to help hide. Oh, yeah, one of the guys noticed the phone box open where one of the mercs jerked the wires out. The trooper fixed the wires, so we have phones again..."

Kayla's expression blanked for a moment while she listened, then acknowledged.

"Uh, the General asks if you could get the Ship to move back as far as she could to give as much room as possible for a couple helicopters to come in. He's called for a forensic cleanup crew to take care of the bodies, and ... other stuff," she finished, looking around at the other women with a slightly stressed look on her face.

"Are you referring to the blood and brains that Jennie decorated our classroom with?" Helen asked, bemused.

The women bantered back and forth a moment with Jeff listening to the macabre subject that his wives seemed comfortable to even joke about. Once again, he felt sorry for anyone who thought that women, and particularly his wives, were the "weaker sex." Physically they might be, but there was a lot more that went into being strong, other than just physical strength.

After obviously listening to her radio for a moment, then acknowledging, Kayla said, "The Sergeant wants to show me something. I'll be back when I can."

Jeff walked over to the head of the ramp as Kayla left. Calling down to the trooper stationed there, "Step inside for a moment. The General wants the Ship moved back as far as we can so he can get some equipment in."

When the trooper was inside, Jeff walked on into the command center and sat back in one of the "couches." Shortly, the vision screen came on and the columns showed faint movement of the 'fluid' inside them. The great Ship moved back to hover against the beginning of the ski slope and the trees to the right of it. It still didn't put down its landing jacks because the weight would have pushed them far into the ground, even though the ground was frozen for a foot or so, already.

(There is a small ski slope past the range. This is not the ski slope at the abandoned ski lodge.)

The ramp extended and the door opened for the trooper to go out and stand guard again.

-------

SOUTHBOUND IN FLORIDA

Fred was quiet during lunch. They had found a small park near a lake. It was hot and the air was still. The mosquitoes were out in force, though. So after a short walk by the water, the women had decided to just fix sandwiches for lunch and eat inside.

Used to a colder climate, Jessica and Carla were being hard hit by the heat and humidity when they ventured out of the RV in the middle of the day, and Audrey was worrying about getting used to the cold when they got to Colorado.

After eating their lunch, they were sitting around their table in the RV, chatting. Jessica swatted at a mosquito that had followed them back inside. "Did you see the size of that thing? I swear it looked at me just before I swatted at it."

There was a loud "whap," as the mosquito made its last mistake and landed on Audrey's arm. She held up her arm to show the deceased mosquito. "Oh, that's just a baby compared to what we'll have when we get near the coast again," she said, teasing the two women from Colorado.

"Well, I think we need to get a fly swatter," Brenda said. "And I agree with Jessica, these things are getting huge."

"I'm surprised you don't need a hunting license for them," Jessica said as they all chuckled — all except Fred.

Brenda, sitting next to her husband, tapped him on the arm as he sat staring into space. "Earth to Fred."

His eyes refocused, and he tried to remember the conversation to see how pissed the women were with him. "Sorry."

"What's the matter, Baby?" Carla asked. "You've been preoccupied for the last hour or so."

"Fuck it," Fred said as he pulled his cell out of his pocket. "I'm going to call. I can't seem to get my mind off Jeff and his family."

The phone rang a number of times before it was finally answered. "Matthews' residence. Kayla speaking."

"Kayla, this is Fred. I ... just called to check in, I guess. I've had you folks on my mind for a while. May I speak to Jeff?"

"Uh, well, he's tied up right now. I can have him call you later, if that would be okay."

Fred thought for a second, something bothering him. He was almost certain she wasn't lying, though. (His ability to tell if a person was lying worked much better in person, but it still worked to some extent over the phone.) "Uh, okay. That would be fine. I can talk to him later, just put Diana on the phone, please."

Kayla sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get off that easily. She didn't know Fred personally, but she knew he was an Alpha and Jeff's long-time friend. "Fred you know who I am, right?"

"Sure," Fred said, suddenly worried.

"Fred, none of the Matthews are in the retreat right now. And no, you can't reach them on their cells. We've had a problem. A problem that I can't discuss on the phone. But Fred ... Jeff has taken me for his mate. You know what that means, right?"

Fred tried to chuckle. "Well," he said, dragging the word out, "judging from the rest, one criterion is that you be beautiful..."

"Thanks," but she went quickly on, "And another criteron is that he trusts me or he would never have taken me for one of his mates. With that in mind, please just believe me when I say that everything is okay and everyone will be fine. I'll go and tell Jeff as soon as I can, but right now, I'm tied up. He'll have to come back inside the retreat to use a landline phone, and he can't come back in right now."

Fred stiffened and sat up straighter. "Kayla, I want to talk to Jeff — right now."

The women in the RV looked at each other, concern growing.

Kayla's voice took on a tone of desperation. "I can't tell you what's going on. Not on the phone. He just won't come back in right now," she finished, knowing that Jeff wouldn't leave the Ship until Arlene was out of the healing tank.

Kayla and the General had rushed into the kitchen to catch the phone when they heard it ringing. Whitworth had decided to pour himself another cup of coffee as Kayla was talking, but stopped as he heard her end of the conversation becoming more desperate.

"Is that Jeff's friend from Georgia? The one who's taking a trip in the RV?" he asked as he walked up beside her.

"Yes, Sir."

Give me the phone.

"This is General Henry Whitworth. I'm Colonel Matthews' commanding officer. What Lieutenant Fisher has told you is the truth. She is not deliberately being vague or trying to hide anything from you. Our conversation is restricted by national security issues here. I can assure you that Colonel Matthews and his family are in good hands. As soon as Colonel Matthews can, he will call you. Again, there is no need for you to worry."

Fred cleared his throat, considering. He could tell that the General, too, was telling the truth, and he had heard Jeff mention his name, but he also knew that something bad had happened — he could feel it. "Two hours. If I don't hear from Jeff or Diana in two hours, I'm going to find an airport and rent a fucking plane. Two hours."

Whitworth chuckled. "I think we can have one of them call you in far less time than that. That's all I'm at liberty to say right now."

"All right. The clock is ticking," Fred snarled, in spite of telling himself he would keep his cool. He closed the phone and looked around at the women. "I don't feel like driving. I want to sit right here until I hear from either Jeff or Diana."

"You want me to start looking on the net for airports in our area?" Jessica asked.

"Yeah. Something that might lease a small jet."

"I'm going to fix a pot of coffee," Brenda said, getting up. As she passed her husband, she squeezed his shoulder. The women, worried, all looked at each other.



-------

Chapter 76


The General had just hung up the phone and told Kayla what Fred had threatened.

"When I was here a couple of days ago, Colonel Matthews told me this Fred person was another of his Alphas. We need to get Colonel Matthews or Diana to give him a call ASAP. I got the impression that this guy meant exactly what he said. If he charters a fucking jet, he could be here early tonight. We don't need anyone else getting involved in this — especially someone who hasn't had the blocks. You think you could talk one of the Matthews into..."

The phone rang. Kayla shrugged and turned to answer it. "Matthews' residence. Kayla speaking."

"Hi, Kayla. This is Evie. We ... have a slight problem. Oh, crap, I don't know how to say it. My husband is grouchy as a bear with a sore foot. He keeps worrying about you guys, so I just gave up and called. I..."

"We've been attacked, Evie," Kayla said, looking at the General, who began shaking his head.

"Attacked? Was anyone hurt?"

Kayla hesitated, cleared her throat and answered, "Everyone will be fine."

Kayla heard Evie tell someone, her voice stressed, "They've been attacked." Then back on the phone, "We're on our way."

"No, Evie. There's no use..." But the line went dead.

Kayla hung up the phone. "Dave was worried about us — really worried. They're on the way. And before you ask, trying to tell them no was useless."

Two of Matthews' Alphas back-to-back. I wonder...  But Whitworth's thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing yet again.

"Matthews' residence. Kayla speaking," she answered, and hit the speaker button this time.

"Hi, Kayla, this is Tate. Uh, I was out and about and I thought I would pay you guys a visit. I'm not far away from the retreat and it's been a couple of weeks and ... well, I was just a little worried..."

The conversation went much as it had with Fred, then General Whitworth spoke up. "This is General Henry Whitworth. I'm Colonel Matthews' commanding officer..."

"Colonel? When did that happen?"

"Uh, he was promoted last week," Whitworth answered, distracted.

"Well, I'm glad to hear about the promotion, but I really need to talk to Jeff."

"He is indisposed right now..."

"Indisposed my ass. I need to fucking talk to Jeff. I'm on my way," the Sheriff snarled, his senses screaming at him that something was wrong.

Whitworth took a breath. This wasn't a person under his command, and obviously someone not easily put off. "Sheriff Tate, Colonel Matthews has spoken of you, very highly in fact, but this conversation is restricted by national security issues. I can assure you that Colonel Matthews and his family are in good hands. As soon as Colonel Matthews can, he will call you. Again, there is no need for you to come up here, or worry."

"Well, I'm on my way, anyway. We'll see what needs to be done when I get there."

The General's command voice took over, for what little good it did, "This is a military operation, Sheriff. You have no jurisdiction..."

"General, I've heard of you from Jeff, but you can stick that 'jurisdiction' up your ass. If Jeff or his family is in trouble, then I'm going to do everything I can to help. Now, I'm headed up there. If you try to bar me, I'll have every deputy in this county and the surrounding counties on the way to the retreat. You'll be ass-deep in swat teams before you know it. Not to say anything about every TV station..."

Whitworth took a breath, shifted gears and started laughing. "Okay, Sheriff, you've made your point. You will be met by a sentry at the bottom of the drive. I would appreciate it if you didn't give him a hard time. You and I will talk when you get here. Oh, and Sheriff, it will only cause problems for Colonel Matthews if you attract attention by using your emergency lights and siren."

"I'm ten minutes away, General, and there's little traffic on this road, so I don't need emergency lights. But that's the only concession I'll give you."

"I'll be glad to talk to you when you get here. Everything will make sense then," Whitworth said.

Kayla pressed the button to end the call.

"Well, this is damn sure turning into a rat-fuck — more like Grand Central Station every minute," the General mumbled as he stalked out the door into the hallway, already on his helmet radio telling Lieutenant Richardson to make the guards aware of what was going on.

Kayla was a bit young for the Grand Central Station allusion, but she had no trouble understanding what it meant. Grinning from ear to ear, she followed the General into the hallway.

-------

Trying to distract her mind from the vivid memory of the hole in Arlene's chest and the blood spilling out her back onto the kitchen floor only a short time ago, Diana turned to Jeff. "Kayla seems to really like using your helmet."

Jeff, almost overjoyed to hear his Queen say anything positive, smiled back at her. "Yeah, that helmet is quite a bit different to the one she's used to."

"Is that because..."

Jeff let out a soft sigh. "Di, there's an awful lot of stuff that I can now tell you, and I will as time goes along, but..."

"It would sound like bragging," Diana injected, "and Alphas don't brag. Do they?"

"Uh, Di, I've never thought about it like that. Uh, about the helmet," he said, trying to change the subject. "Everyone who goes off-world is required to be proficient with a helmet. They're not the same combat helmets that the teams and I use, but they have scanning equipment, a short-range radio that's almost impossible to block, and a long-range one that isn't bad, either. When the shit hits the fan, the scientists wearing the helmets can communicate with each other, no matter what. Both radios are scrambled and damn near impossible to be overheard or unscrambled. Sometimes a group of scientists digging through ruins might think they are alone on the planet, then suddenly find out they aren't — the hard way. And there can't be enough combat teams to hold everyone's hand all the time, not with the limited size of the portal. Therefore, scientists and technicians have helmets and weapons, and are at least minimally trained to fight, then holler for help and dig in.

"Kayla, I guess being an FBI agent before she came to us, was a little more interested in the combat side of things, even though her degree is in anthropology. Hell, I have no idea why the FBI decided they needed her, other than her near-perfect grades, but she spent a lot of her off-time at the base range since she joined us."

"She wants on your team," Diana stated with certainty.

"Ain't gonna happen," Jeff said just as certainly.

"Why? If she's good..."

"Kayla almost certainly has the stress resistance and willpower to pass the tests, not to mention the intelligence, but she lacks experience. Lack of experience will get her killed on my team. And ... even if she had the experience, she's my mate. Put yourself in my place. I would be more worried about her than what would be going on. I would be overly worried about sending her into danger, and that would cause major problems on the team — and with her as well."

Diana sighed. "Yeah, I see your point, and I don't want her away from us at all, let alone being on a team that routinely goes into danger, crap, is even sent there because of the danger. But she really seems to love that helmet. Can't the General 'lose' one?"

Jeff looked at his wife. "I don't think there's any need to 'lose' one. Hell, I am a colonel, now. You think if I issued her one, she would be pleased?"

Diana giggled. "Pleased enough to fuck your brains out, I imagine."

Jeff kissed her and dropped back into the subject that was overshadowing their thoughts. "Our daughter is going to be just fine, Di. I promise."

Diana leaned into his chest. "Oh, Jeff. I'm so damn scared."

"I know, Baby. I know."

Diana, still trying to keep her mind off what had happened to Arlene, said, "What about that trooper standing outside? Shouldn't we bring him in to warm up or something? If there needs to be someone out there watching, we could all take turns while he's in here."

Amazing her, Jeff chuckled. "His only problem is boredom. He's as warm as we are."

Diana stared at him as if he were crazy. "Well, the helmet protects his head, I guess, but those BDUs he's wearing surely aren't going to keep him warm standing in three feet of snow. He isn't even wearing a coat. None of them are."

"Di, over the years, we've brought back a good bit of alien technology from off-planet. Some things we've managed to copy, or adapt to what we need. Others, we've reverse engineered into something similar to the original. The helmet controls the suit, boots and gloves. He would be warm in Alaska or cool on the equator."

"That could make millions..." Ann piped up, all the women hanging on Jeff's every word.

"But ... releasing too much advanced technology too quickly would also bring about a lot more curiosity as to where the technology actually came from. And if someone managed to trace it back to us, or the word got out that it was alien technology ... Remember, it's a base within a base. Although a lot of it is inside a mountain, much as the Ship was concealed on that planet, still, it would only take a little publicity to cause the General a lot of problems. Can you imagine how Congress would screw up the portal program to get campaign contributions and placate all their special interest groups? What about all the screaming from environmental groups whining about the impact our civilization would have on other worlds, not to mention ours? Ninety percent of General Whitworth's time would be spent keeping outside interference from getting us killed."

Diana grinned at him. "I get your point."

"Another thing. If word got out about the portal, there would be factions that would see it as the end of the world, or Satan incarnate. Others would want to make sure we approached new civilizations or planets unarmed. The 'everything is wonderful' approach. Others — other governments particularly — would see the portal as something they had to take over at all costs. And if they couldn't get it, then it should be nuked into oblivion to keep it away from other governments. But..." Jeff said, "the General has, indeed, released some of the technology to help fund the project.

"Patents on inventions and improvements on current technologies tend to bring in a lot of money over time. And the source of the patents is buried under layers of corporations and holding companies to keep the public from knowing where the ideas came from. Most people just take a new or improved TV screen, or computer monitor as the next step up in that particular technological ladder, not bothering to think about where that next step actually came from. But the leap to the technology those BDUs, boots and gloves represent is still too far beyond Earth technology to be released without raising questions. The helmets are a giant leap beyond even that..."

Kayla rushed in pulling off her helmet. "We have problems," she hissed out.

"You found more of those men?" Laura asked.

"No," Kayla answered. "The team is almost through with their search, and they haven't found anyone. Jeff, it's your uh ... well, it's Fred and Dave and Sheriff Tate. They somehow know something is wrong. Fred is threatening to rent a plane and come back here. Dave and everyone who went with him to the zoo this morning are on their way back, and Sheriff Tate will be here in minutes. The General keeps oscillating between being pissed and tickled. But we need you at the retreat..."

"Jeff..." Diana began.

But before she could complain about his leaving, "I'm not leaving here until Arlene is out of that chamber, and that's not negotiable."

Kayla sighed. "That's what I told the General. And that's the reason I brought this," she said, handing Jeff his sat phone. "At least call Fred before he wastes his money and leases a jet. I don't know whether the sat phone will work in here or not..."

Jeff's eyes lost focus for a moment, then, "It will work in here now. I'll call Fred. Shit, I didn't know my Alphas would pick up on this."

"Brother-Alphas," Diana said, as if that explained everything.

"And Sheriff Tate," Kayla said, "is going to be here any minute, and he's going to see the Ship. It's not as if this monster doesn't stand out like ... Oh, shit. I didn't mean that the way it sounded," she said, looking around her, wondering if the Ship could hear her. "The Ship is beautiful; I just meant it was big."

"Apology accepted," Jeff absently said as he dialed.

Kayla stood, stunned, scarcely daring to think what Jeff's comment obviously meant. Did the Ship hear and understand me, then tell Jeff what I said was okay? Can Jeff communicate with her that well? When Jeff was at the base on Jill's rescue mission, he didn't make any effort to go on board the Ship — but did he need to? Oh, shit, I just thought he didn't care. And I bet almost everyone else thought the same thing. I keep forgetting he's a Prime. Then the next thought, He's going to marry me. I'm already his mate. Wow, how can I be so lucky? Not only to be his mate, but to be a part of all this.

-------

"I hear you're threatening to jump a plane and come kick my ass," Jeff teased when Fred answered the phone.

"What the fuck is going on with you? I've never felt anything like this. Do you need me? It's two fucking hundred miles to an airport that leases jets, but..."

"Fred, we're fine. Well ... we will all be fine soon. There's no need to worry. We had a little ... altercation that I can't talk about on the phone, but we'll fill you in when you get back. Just take it easy and enjoy your vacation and the return of your wife."

"'Will be fine, ' huh? So who got hurt, and how bad?"

"Fred, I can't..."

"Who, damnit?"

"Helen and I received some injuries, but we're absolutely fine right now, and Arlene will be shortly. Fred, remember how you, Jessica and Carla felt the next morning after spending the night up here? What about your health now, Buddy? Think about that. Arlene will be fine shortly."

Fred sighed. "So Arlene was badly hurt? You sure she'll be okay? Jeff, damnit, I want to come back — be there with you in case you need me."

"Fred, I appreciate that. It humbles me to hear you say it, but there is more firepower here at the moment than even you could imagine. We are absolutely safe, and Arlene will be fine very shortly. That's all I can say over the phone."

"Ah, shit, Jeff. If you say so, I guess we'll go on with our trip. Hell, we're having a ball, actually."

"Tell your ladies hello from all of us. Look, the twins' birthday is tomorrow. While they're having their party and the 'fun' is at its loudest, I'll try to sneak off and call you so we can have a chat, if you aren't tied up."

"Ah, we're not into bondage much," Fred chuckled, "although I might try that on Jessica when I get a chance." There was a grunt as Jessica hit him in the short ribs. "Well, maybe not," he laughed. "Seriously, Buddy, give me a call when you can, and we'll be up there as soon as we get back. Shit, Jeff, you know about my curiosity. I won't be able to get this off my mind."

"That curiosity was one of the things that made you a good cop, though."

"Yeah, and it got me complained on a time or two, also," Fred chuckled. "See ya."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jeff shut off the phone. "That went better than I hoped, but crap, he had already located an airport. He would have been here as soon as he could get back."

Kayla smiled at him, her hand on her hip, "I told you he was serious, and his reaction was mild compared to Sheriff Tate's. He and the General got a bit crossways for a moment or two. Tate's going to absolutely shit when he sees the Ship sitting here.

"Oh, yeah, I almost forgot to tell you," she went on, "General Whitworth was worried about pilots seeing the Ship as they flew overhead, so he had someone at the base call up a satellite view. Every detail of the range, retreat and the surrounding area shows up just great, but as far as satellite imagery is concerned, she," Kayla waved her hand around to indicate the Ship, "isn't here."

"Yeah, I know," Jeff responded. "She can be seen at ground level at the moment, and we're going to leave it that way for now. Tate will take the blocks if I ask him to, and she can't be seen from the road. Might as well get it over with and get the Sheriff blocked so the General won't have kittens. Just go back and meet Tate when he pulls in the back. Bring him on up here. You should probably get the equipment out of the safe so the General can set up the blocks. You remember the combination?"

Kayla just looked at him as if to say, "Duh. How dumb do you think I am?" Diana sniggered.

-------

Sheriff Tate swung into the driveway, but was blocked by a guard wearing a helmet, black fatigues and carrying a rifle at port arms. The faceplate retracted into his helmet as he stepped up to the Sheriff's car window. Closer inspection of the rifle confirmed to Tate that it was unlike any he had ever seen — and he had seen about everything there was out there. He narrowed his eyes again as he looked at the helmet. He had never seen a faceplate retract into one like that, and the thing damn sure wasn't a standard military helmet.

The trooper's eyes shifted to Tate's nametag for a second. "You're expected, Sir. Go right on up. Someone will be waiting for you at the front of the retreat before you reach the restricted area."

"Son, who stuck your ass out here on guard duty without your even having a coat?"

"Not needed, Sir. Colonel Matthews will explain."

The trooper stepped back, saluted, and motioned for Tate to proceed. Muttering to himself about the trooper standing in the cold without a coat, Tate let his temper loose a little as he gunned the vehicle up the drive. Fucking military. That man will be too cold to be of any use in an hour — if it takes that long. And to hell with their restricted area shit — this is my county and there are no federal reservations in it.

Kayla was waiting in the driveway in front of the retreat. When he stopped the patrol car, she slid into the passenger seat beside the Sheriff. "What's going on?" Tate ground out.

Kayla took a breath. "I'm an FBI agent," she said, stretching the point, since she technically didn't work for the FBI any longer. "There are eight dead bodies up here, all of them hostile, and I was acting in the line of duty in shooting three of them. We'd appreciate it if you wouldn't raise any jurisdictional issues until you've heard the whole story."

Tate started to reply, then thought better of it. Kayla understood. "I'm on assignment here as part of a secret multi-department federal entity commanded by General Whitworth. There are some issues, and we thought someone should be with you when you start to realize what Jeff has really been up to. My primary duty here is to guard Colonel Matthews."

Tate cautiously replied, "I suspected there was more to your being here than just a nursemaid to those girls."

Kayla grinned at him. "Colonel Matthews told me to remind you of the night you and your women were here, and how good all of you felt the next morning. And since he has ordered me, I can now tell you this. You were healed and enhanced by a small, constructed alien being. When you round that curve in front of us and climb to the back parking lot, you're going to see," Kayla couldn't help it, "her momma," she finished, fighting not to giggle at the look on Tate's face.

"You're serious," Tate replied, knowing she wasn't lying.

"This is the biggest secret since the Manhattan Project, and you've just become part of it. And ... if you weren't one of Colonel Matthews' Alphas, you would never know a thing about this. Now let's go. As they say, seeing is believing."

Tate looked at her for a second, his gift telling him this young woman, now one of Jeff's mates, was telling him the absolute truth, but...

Kayla motioned and Tate set the vehicle moving. Shortly, he circled the curve that climbed to the back level of the retreat and the parking lot there. Coming to a gradual stop near the back door, he gawked. Kayla thought briefly about making a remark about catching flies, but Tate didn't actually have his mouth open, although the expression on his face made her think of that. Suddenly turning to grin at her, "I think Jeff has been keeping a thing or two from me."

Kayla nodded toward the Ship, smiling, "Hmmm, maybe one or two things. Ready to go visit her? Jeff is waiting for you."

They got out of the vehicle, Tate pulling on his jacket, wishing he had brought his coat when the icy wind hit him, and walked a ways side-by-side with the young woman, then he glanced at Kayla, "'Her?'"

"Uh huh. And she's sentient, too."

Tate stopped, then after a second, "You're telling me that ... that thing is alive?"

"Well, I don't know about that, but I wouldn't advise pissing her off," Kayla answered, nodding her head in the direction of Vasquez' remains.

"Holy shit," Tate said as he looked where Kayla was looking. "That was..."

"One of the attackers. I'm not sure who actually killed him. We were all shooting, but the Ship hit him with something that sounded like a bolt of lightning. It made a deafening racket and he exploded all over the back of the building there."

Tate turned to walk on without comment, Kayla fighting to keep the grin off her face as she paced him. She had made a pass with the big snow blower, so the path to the Ship was now an easy one.

As they neared, Tate felt like he was a hillbilly in the big city for the first time. It did register that the guard saluted, and he managed to return the salute before following Kayla up the ramp. At the top of the ramp, the doorway suddenly popped into existence. At the threshold, Tate remembered, "Permission to come aboard," he called out.

"Come aboard, Sheriff," Jeff called back to his Alpha.

Life around Matthews can damn sure be interesting,  Tate thought as he stepped inside.

-------

Sheriff Tate sat near Diana, Jeff and his women in a seat he could have sworn wasn't there when he walked in. The coffee was weak and served in a cup used by the military in combat.

"Sorry about the coffee," Jeff said, an expression on his face that Tate couldn't read, "but we were running short of provisions when I finally figured out how to ask her for more. We had been making it weak to stretch out our supplies, so she makes it the same way. I never got around to having her change it."

"'Makes it?' The Ship makes it? And Arlene is in that ... thing over there?"

"Yeah, she is, and I'll tell you more about that later, but the ship replicates the coffee, I guess you could say, but that's only an approximation. We had plenty to eat after that, though, even if they were duplicated field rations," Jeff finished mysteriously. Abruptly, he changed subjects. "Quinton, I need to ask you to do something for me — something on faith. If I hadn't fully believed you would do it, I would have met you at the foot of the driveway, and asked you to leave for today."

"Jeff, you know I'll do anything I can to help ... But what's this about asking me to leave. You let me come up and see this ... Ship."

"I let you come up because you're an Alpha. Quinton, there are a very limited number of people who know about the Ship and ... some things associated with it. All those people, my wives, my mother-in-law, the new girls, the people at the base ... all have gone through a process that keeps any of us from talking to an outsider about the Ship and anything associated with the base. It takes ten minutes and there are no side effects, provided ... you don't try to tell someone. If you do, you start to experience nausea that will increase if you persist. If you continue to try, eventually you will black out.

"My wives figured out enough to ask me some pointed questions. I never actually said anything, but I was trying to not tell, while appeasing them as well."

Laura broke in with, "We would never have pushed him if we had known how sick it would make him. But he was just fine afterward. We've had it done to us, and haven't noticed a thing. Of course, we haven't tried to talk to an outsider about things, either."

Jeff didn't tell Tate that he (Jeff) would never have gotten this far into the discussion had Little One not nullified his blocks.

"So you want me to do this thing, too?" Tate sat for a minute, thinking. Jeff just crossed his legs, hugged Diana to him, and waited.

"You swear to me that this won't affect how I act toward my family, or my job?"

"Not unless you try to tell them about some of this. If you do, you're going to become one very sick puppy. I give you my word on everything I've said."

Tate knew what Jeff's word meant. Standing, "Tell me what to do."

"Just go with Kayla. The General is waiting on you. When you get back, we'll talk about Arlene and what's happening to her in that," Jeff said, nodding to the healing chamber.

-------

Sheriff Tate sat in the living room as the General operated the equipment to put in the blocks. Kayla watched for a moment, then walked on back toward the kitchen, thinking about making a late lunch for the team. She knew they had run out of the base without their packs, bringing only a few energy bars with them.

Sheriff Tate is obviously a strong personality, judging from what little I know about him from hearing Diana and the others talk. He surely proved that on the phone when the General tried to bully him. But he accepted the blocks when Jeff asked him to. Accepted with hardly a question.

Opening the refrigerator door, she decided to just put out a variety of sandwich fixings and let the team build their own lunches.

The phone rang. Well, crap. Now what?

"Matthews' residence. Kayla speaking."

"Hi Kayla. This is Bill Madison. Everything okay there?"

"Uh..."

"We're in the chopper and have just left the airport in Boulder. Mr. Wainwright and I have been feeling ... odd. We were on the way to San Francisco, but he called his meeting off and we diverted to Boulder. You sure everything is all right there?"

Kayla's mind kicked into high gear. Oh, shit. Reed (the helicopter pilot) isn't one of us. If the satellite can't see the ship, then neither can Reed. If he comes in low, he's liable to hit it. And when he sits down, he'll see it.

Her voice calmer than she expected, she said, "This is of the utmost importance, Bill, and I can't explain now. Tell your pilot to come in no lower than two hundred feet above the range, and to set straight down onto the helipad from that altitude. Straight down,  Bill. Straight down."

Madison paused for a moment, then said, "Actually, Captain Reed is letting me get in some rotary time, so I'm flying right seat this afternoon." There was another pause, "Copy minimum altitude of two hundred feet over the range and then a straight down approach to the helipad."

"Reed needs to leave the same way. Straight up for two hundred feet."

"Copy that," Madison said. "Then in a quieter voice. You do know my curiosity is just slightly piqued, don't you?"

"We'll talk when you get here. I've got things to do now," Kayla said, shutting off the phone and snatching up Jeff's helmet.

Shortly, Kayla had talked to the trooper at the ship, and a minute after that, Jeff was using the trooper's helmet to talk to Kayla.

"Can the Ship become invisible for someone looking at her from the ground?" Before Jeff could answer, Kayla went on. "Madison and everybody just left Boulder in the helicopter. Reed will see the ship once the helicopter is on the ground. Bill's piloting and I gave him instructions that will keep him from hitting the Ship, in case he might have decided to come in at a shallow angle, but..."

"Thanks Kayla. I'll take care of it."

Kayla had been looking at the Ship on the monitor in the kitchen as she spoke with Jeff. Hardly had Jeff finished his sentence when the ship ... just wasn't there any more, nor was the trooper. She supposed he was still inside the ship after letting Jeff use his helmet.

Tate and Whitworth walked in. "Well, I still say it doesn't feel like anything took. There's nothing rattling around in my head that's telling me to not talk to anyone."

The General chuckled. "Nevertheless, I wouldn't suggest discussing your visit to the retreat in any detail to an outsider. What the fuck?" Whitworth said as he noticed the monitor. "The ship..."

"Went invisible," Kayla broke in. "Bill Madison called and said they had just left Boulder. Reed, the pilot, hasn't been blocked."

"And if that chopper comes in low as he approaches the helipad?"

"I talked to Bill about that. He's the one who is actually flying the chopper. He'll set straight down on the pad."

"Well done, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Sir."

-------

Kayla ran out of the retreat and quickly made a pass with the big riding snow blower to make a path from the helipad to the parking lot, then had met the returning part of the family at the helipad a few minutes later. When they had started to walk on toward the retreat with their luggage, Kayla had asked them to wait a moment while the helicopter cleared the mountain and was gone from sight.

"Now are you going to tell me why that path goes out into the range?" Bill said, looking at the path to nowhere. "It's almost as if ... Oh, shit," he hissed out as the Ship was suddenly there. "No damn wonder you wanted me to come in high. Shit."

Kayla spoke up. "Jeff and his wives are on the Ship. Arlene has been hurt badly and is in a healing chamber. Jeff says she will be fine, though." Before anyone could start toward the ship, Kayla went quickly on. "Uh, I don't want this to come across the wrong way, but they don't need any more distraction right now. Look, I'm about to feed a bunch of hungry troopers, and ... the General. Let's go on into the retreat, and let me get started with lunch while I bring you guys up to date."

As they neared the end of the building, Bill suddenly stopped.

"Shit," he said under his breath.

"What in the world is that?" Margaret said, as she and everyone else stared where Bill was looking, but the tone of her voice betrayed that she probably already knew.

Kayla couldn't help it, "That's Vasquez. We're not sure if our bullets killed him or the ship got him first. Anyway, that's him decorating the end of the building."

"Yeah, well, there are some chunks of him way over there," Wainwright said, pointing.

"Is he the one who hurt Arlene?" Margaret hissed out with a voice that showed her thoughts exactly.

"I don't think so," Kayla answered as they started walking again. "Jeff said it was Guterrez. And before you ask, Arlene killed him for his troubles. She took him on to keep him from firing at all of us as we were bunched together when we were getting Helen into the kitchen. If Arlene hadn't done what she did, Guterrez would probably have killed all of us."

"And Guterrez and Vasquez are those two guys from the cleaning company?"

"Yeah. And they brought the Hagewoods and four more attackers, probably some type of mercenaries, with them this morning. Jeff's team is here, and the General. Let's get inside and let me get something started for a meal for them, then I'll bring you guys up to date."

The work for the meal was quickly shared with Bill's wives and Margaret, plus the sandwiches were supplemented with several side dishes as the women all worked together.

When the team was eating — other than the guards, who would swap out and get their turn in a few minutes — Madison grabbed Kayla and pulled her into the hallway where everyone was waiting. "Spill it. Tell all."



-------

Chapter 77

Kayla very briefly told everyone what had happened. Just as she was finishing up, Sheriff Tate, who had been eating with the team, walked into the hallway to chat with the others. "I helped the guys move the bodies out. We found a roll of black plastic in the basement and covered the pile of them."

"That piece of plastic over there on the floor," Jill said, motioning down the hallway near the theater door, "is that where one of them..."

"Yeah," Kayla said. "General Whitworth has a forensic cleanup crew on the way to take care of things."

"I looked under the plastic when we came in. They'll never get that much blood out of the carpet," Bill said.

"So the investigation is over already?" Kathy asked.

Sheriff Tate chuckled. "I don't think this is going down like one of those shows you watch on TV, or what we would have to do if my department were taking care of the investigation. General Whitworth has declared it a military operation, and I certainly agree with him. He said this originated with one of his personnel at the base. I think the extent of the investigation was just pretty much to ask the lieutenant here (referring to Kayla) and Jeff what happened, then clean up the mess. These guys had automatic weapons, were wearing body armor, and had some very sophisticated radios and other equipment on them, plus their weapons were silenced. Four of them were wearing quasi-military uniforms, but the uniforms were pretty much generic. No way to tell where the uniforms came from or what organization these men represented, if they were, indeed, mercenaries at all. Same for where the weapons came from. You can buy them pretty much anywhere in the world. Whitworth discovered where their orders originated, though, and is in the process of taking care of that."

"So what can we do to help?" Wainwright asked.

"I guess just wait for the crew to get here and maybe see what they need. The General said they would bring equipment with them to take care of things, though. But, I'm with you, Bill," Tate said, glancing at the pilot. "I don't think they'll ever get the blood out of the carpet so the stain doesn't show, and there is a row of bullet holes down there," he finished, pointing. "And the Sergeant says the Matthews' bedroom looks like a war zone. They will definitely need someplace else to sleep tonight."

Wainwright shrugged, "I bought more carpet than we needed when we built the retreat, same for paneling and other things. It was all bought because carpet gets worn, or torn, or stained. Paneling gets nicked or scratched. There should be plenty of everything to take care of this, all stored in the basement, and it's out of the same lot, so it should match perfectly..."

Jones stepped out of the kitchen and interrupted them. "Uh, Lieutenant, someone by the name of Dave Henson just turned into the driveway with a bunch of people in the SUV with him. He says he lives here, and he about ate the guard's lunch for having the audacity to stop him. You might want to meet them out back."

"Oh, shit," Kayla muttered as she, carrying her helmet, took off down the hall toward the back door. Quickly donning her coat, she rushed out the back only seconds before the Escalade slid to a halt.

"Who's hurt?" Evie said as she flung the passenger's door open and got out.

"Arlene is," Kayla answered, "but the Ship says she will be fine."

"Oh, wow. Neat," all three girls said in perfect unison as soon as they were out of the SUV and standing. "It's big," Nat added as they all stared at the ship.

"What do you mean that Arlene is hurt? How is my granddaughter? Will she..." Susan started as she scrambled out of the SUV, she and everyone else now focusing on Kayla.

"She's in one of the healing chambers, and Jeff says that the Ship is confident that she will be perfect when she comes out. Jeff told us about those, remember? The Ship has already healed Jeff's arms, and Helen's bullet wound. Everybody is waiting for Arlene to come out of the chamber..."

"Jeff's arms and Helen's bullet wound?" Evie asked.

"Long story. The short of it is we were attacked. Jeff burned his arms getting a set of plastic cuffs off; they shot Helen, and then shot Arlene. We killed all their asses. The ship came to help out with the last attacker, and healed Jeff and Helen, but Arlene was hurt much worse, and is still in the healing chamber."

"Who?" Dave snapped.

"Several men I think were probably some type of mercenaries, plus the Hagewoods, all led by the cleaning crew."

Dave stared at her. "Shit."

"Yeah," Kayla said. "Seems like we've been saying that a lot today."

Everyone stood staring at the ship. The others had all come outside to meet Dave and the returning family. "I don't think the Matthews need everyone in there right..." But Kayla stopped, realizing it was a lost cause. The whole group had started toward the ship, already. Crap, I want to be there, too,  Kayla thought as she fell in step beside Evie.

The blown path ended before they got to the ship, but there had been enough traffic to open the path pretty well, anyway. Kayla knew from experience that there were going to be some cold feet shortly, since Dave and his group had dressed for Denver weather, and Wainwright and his group also had on low-top shoes.

The group slowed as they got to the ramp, and Kayla took the lead. She stamped her feet on the ramp to dislodge some of the snow, then the thought hit her. She didn't remember any melted snow on what passed for carpet inside the ship. Things were happening so fast she hadn't even thought about it. Stepping through the doorway, she said to the Matthews, "The rest of our family is home."

Kayla stood back as the hugs and explanations consumed the next few minutes. The room had suddenly sprouted places for everyone to sit. The "seats" weren't exactly furniture, but were the unambiguous gray of the walls and floor, though certainly softer.

This time, Kayla took notice. Kneeling, she swept her hand across the ... carpet. Nothing was wet, and there were no wet tracks from where all the people walked across the room. There were no chunks of snow or any evidence that they had just trudged across several hundred feet of snow. She looked down at her own boots, (she had long-since changed to warmer clothes and footgear) but the tread was devoid of the slightest bit of moisture, or anything else.

"Dirt doesn't come in, either," Jeff said, obviously having been watching her. "I've spent some time trying to ask her about that. I think the function is unconscious with her, or automatic or something; I had a hard time getting the point across. Just think of it as her version of our welcome mat at the back door of the retreat, where you wipe your feet before entering. Kayla, the things she does can't really be described as advanced technology; they're far beyond that."

Jeff had half expected the girls, and his younger wives for that matter, to go off exploring the ship, but they didn't. Instead the three new girls sat near Arlene's healing chamber, soon to be joined by Ann, Melissa and Jennie. Evie joined Diana, Helen and Laura as they sat on the wall-bench huddled together. Susan sat on the floor, leaning back against her daughter's legs, occasionally patting Diana. Margaret, Jill and Kathy joined them as well as Dave's women. Wainwright, Dave and Bill sat near Jeff. Kayla put Jeff's helmet back on in case the General might need her.

Everyone waited.

-------

Jeff sprang up as the mist cleared in the healing chamber. Arlene lay there, a look of confusion on her face, then weakly, "Momma?"

"I'm here, Baby. I'm here," Diana choked out as she quickly took the two steps needed and reached for her daughter's hand. "You're fine."

Arlene sat up, Little One now resting on her shoulder, but the look of confusion continued. "I'm fine? But ... I thought ... I mean..."

Diana and Jeff helped their daughter out of the chamber, sitting her on a seat that resembled a toadstool, that suddenly grew a back as she relaxed onto it. "But, he shot me. I died ... didn't I? There was this beautiful bright tunnel I was walking through, and there was something I was walking toward, but I can't seem to remember just what it was. But then this pretty lady called me back a little way. We sat and talked for a while. It seemed that I should know her. She knew things about us. I really liked her. Then suddenly she was gone and this other — older — lady was there. Oh, she was so beautiful. She took my hand and told me things. Things that I can ... almost remember. We talked for the longest time. I thought I was ... in Heaven. How did I get back here? I was dead. I..."

Arlene looked around her, seeming to suddenly realize that her family was all gathered near. Jeff gently lifted Little One to his shoulder and held his collar open for her to flow onto his back. "Helen, you were shot," Arlene continued, putting out her hand to touch her sister.

Helen took Arlene's hand and squeezed it. "I'm fine now. Little One and the ship healed me."

As Arlene turned to her dad, he spoke up, "Yeah, me too. The ship took care of my burns and the lump on my head while you were being healed."

Arlene took a breath, again looking around her. "It was so bright there. The colors were so — intense. It seems so dim here, in comparison." She squeezed her mother's hand as she stared up at Jeff. "Hold me, Daddy. Just hold me, please."

Jeff caught Diana's eye as Arlene snuggled her head against his chest. "The women: Little One and the Ship," Jeff quietly explained.

"That's what I thought," Diana said, a smile touching her lips.

-------

Later. They were no sooner back in the retreat and had walked into the kitchen when the phone rang, yet again. "Matthews' residence. Kayla speaking."

The voice of Alesha came on the line. "Hi, Girl. What's happening?"

"Oh, not too much," Kayla said, lying through her teeth.

"Look, I thought I would give you a call. They asked me to work a double, as I knew they would, since the evening shift girl was sick as a dog when she relieved me yesterday. Sure enough, she's worse today. I brought a change of clothes and my makeup with me, and they always comp a room if you have to work extra and you want to stay. Anyway, don't expect me for dinner."

It was hard for Kayla to not sigh with relief. Alesha had worked over before, but this was definitely fortuitous for tonight. Now she (Kayla) wouldn't have to ask Alesha to stay over with Jessie, and probably hurt her feelings by obviously keeping secrets from her.

"Thanks Alesha. We would have been worried that you might have had a wreck if you didn't show up on time."

"Got someone at the desk. Have to go. See ya."

"Bye."

As Kayla hung up the phone, Jeff turned to her with a freshly-poured cup of coffee in his hand, an eyebrow raised.

"I was going to call Alesha and ask her to stay with Jesse tonight, since the Ship is sitting out there and Alesha hasn't been blocked, but she's going to stay at the lodge after working a double. With everything that is going on..."

"Might not have been such a good idea to ask her to stay with Jesse," Diana injected as she took the cup from her husband's hand and sat at the table.

Jeff made a motion as if he were drinking from an imaginary cup, then turned to pour himself more coffee.

"They're not sleeping together," Diana went on, grinning at her husband.

Kayla smiled at Jeff, as he mimed looking around to see if someone else was going to steal this cup of coffee, then to Diana, "You're kidding me. But they do everything together. He stays late in her suite. I just assumed..."

Diana put cream and sweetener into her coffee, then sat absently stirring. "She's had some bad things happen to her. As best we can tell, none of them have been her fault, but she blames herself, anyway. She's being careful, and since she's told Jesse everything, he appears to understand and isn't pushing her. We're all rooting for them to make it permanent. They're both good people, and even though they haven't been together long, they're obviously made for each other. At least, we all think so."

Kayla could tell that Diana was still stressed, and there was an occasional, barely noticeable tremor to her hands when she sipped her coffee. Jeff sat at the end of the table, then reached over and took his wife's hand.

"Where's Arlene?" Kayla said, just to break the silence.

Diana hesitated for a second, then, "She, Ann, Jennie and Melissa have a special bond, I guess you could say. They grew up together, and they've only become closer now that they're sister-wives. I just thought they needed some time alone after what's happened. They picked one of the suites for us to use on the other end of the retreat near Dave and Evie's apartment. Ann said they were going to disassemble the bed, move it to another suite to get it out of the way, and put a couple of mattresses on the floor for us to sleep on tonight.

"And, yeah, all I want to do is sit and hold my daughter, but that's the last thing she needs right now. Getting a place ready for us to sleep will keep her mind off what's happened to her for a while. And Kayla, I want you to know..."

Kayla stepped over to hug Diana, interrupting her, "I did what little I could. I darn sure can't cook worth a crap," she giggled.

Before they could say anything more, Dave stuck his head in the kitchen door and spoke to Jeff. "Evie and I are going with the General and most of your team to check out the ski lodge. Well, actually, we're going to set them up with a place to stay for tonight..."

"Nonsense," Diana broke in. "They can stay right here. We darn sure have enough rooms."

"Whitworth says he wants them to get set up at the ski lodge for now. They can show your security around when they get here later in the week. He's bringing in more monitoring equipment on the choppers to get things started, as well as bringing your team's packs. I gave all my crews a long weekend for all the extra work they have been doing, so they were off today, but tomorrow morning, they'll start with the rough work where the tree and that big boulder met up with the lodge. The General says the guy who is going to be in charge of the security team is coming with the cleanup crew so he can look over the lodge. As soon as he tells us what he needs changed, we'll get started on that."

Dave came on into the kitchen, his attention primarily on Jeff. "With the help of this forensic crew, I can snatch up the carpet in the affected areas, and put some new back down. Replacing the affected paneling in the classroom and hall will be easy. Your bedroom has drywall, so they can clean the walls and I can patch the bullet holes with no problems. We have leftover paint from when we redid your suite, so that won't be a problem, either. By morning, the place will look like it did before those assholes came in here to do their thing."

"Dave, I..."

But Dave interrupted. "Before you say anything, Evie and I will sleep tomorrow. Tonight, we're going to be busy. Oh, yeah, I told the General about the incinerator. No use taking ... uh, things back to the base for disposal. Turns out the base incinerators are the same as the one out back, just bigger. Wainwright made them for him so nothing would ever come out, just like he made ours. We're going to be using a little gas tonight — well, actually a lot of gas tonight," he chuckled. Anyway, when the crew gets here, we'll get started on the incinerator, and a couple of your team members — those not involved with security duty or helping set up the ski lodge — are going to help with the grunt work by bringing up the paneling, and helping to rip out and get rid of the carpet, and stuff like that. Check back with you in a bit," Dave finished before hurrying out the door.

Diana had called to warn Joyce and Caitlin that they would be stopped by security at the bottom of the drive. Despite their wanting to know what had happened to prompt security being here earlier than they had expected, Diana just glossed over the reason, saying that Whitworth had changed the time tables, not wanting to elaborate on the phone.

When Joyce left the class in Denver, she had called Caitlin. Caitlin was waiting in the hospital parking lot when Joyce pulled in beside her. As their windows slid down so they could talk, Caitlin said, "What's going on? I thought they were going to fix up the ski lodge before the security people came in."

Joyce sat tapping a nail against the steering wheel. "I don't know. You have your gun with you?"

"You know I do. But if there was something bad going on, Diana would have told us."

"Yeah, I know. But just in case, I want to go first."

The guard at the beginning of the driveway was cute, and their arrival anticlimactic, until they rounded the curve and climbed to the back lot where they saw the gray giant hovering a couple feet off the ground behind the range.

-------

Jeff had found Laura working away on her laptop in one of the sitting rooms. "What're you doing, Babe?" he said with a big smile on his face, but he already had a good idea what she was up to.

Laura looked up from the lines of code she was searching through, her face already flushing. "You know."

Jeff sighed as he looked down at his wife. "Baby, what happened is not your fault. The program didn't screw up; those guys were hidden behind some very sophisticated insulation. The equipment the cameras use couldn't detect them..."

"Yes, that's true, but I should have provided for a drastic change in the heat signature of the back of the van. The program noticed the difference, but I hadn't provided for that particular downward change. I screwed up. I..."

"Bullshit," Jeff snapped, taking the computer from her lap and sitting it quickly down beside her, then bringing her to her feet to hug her tightly. "Bullshit. I am not going to have you blaming yourself for this. That's just plain ... Ah, shit, I don't know what to call it. Look, Baby," he said, pushing her back a little so he could look down into her face, "I've never written a program that didn't have at least one bug in it. At least. And most of the time, there are tons of them," he exaggerated. "Now, you have been a programmer and done this kind of shit too long to act like this. Nobody could have foreseen this. That's the reason Vasquez did it the way he did.

"They spent weeks being cleaning people just to gain our trust and get as much intel as they could. Hell, they did a great job as a cleaning crew. Diana told me that she and Arlene had a conversation just before this went down. Arlene had noticed that Vasquez and Guterrez never gave you guys the eye, not in the least. They were the epitome of gentlemen when they were here cleaning up, so much so that she had even begun to wonder.

"I looked up at the monitor when they turned into the drive, and they suckered me. They were talking about Guterrez' brother-in-law, and I bought it hook, line and sinker. It never crossed my mind that they were bringing in the Hagewoods, let alone a bunch of mercenaries, well at least I think they were mercenaries. Anyway, if anybody needs to feel guilty, it's me."

"Oh, Jeff, I just keep thinking that if..."

"Just like Joyce did after the shooting, right? Remember how we would notice her staring off into space, and we knew she was going over that shooting again and again? We all do that after something bad happens. I've been doing it too. What if? What if? After-battle-self-incrimination, I guess you could call it. We all have it in one form or another. Some of us go over and over the incident in our minds, but sometimes there's someone who has a different reaction. They might want to sleep for long periods of time, be extremely quiet, or even overly talkative. But then there is an occasional person with a really weird reaction to combat."

Jeff picked her up, then sat with her on his lap. Taking her chin in his fingers, he shook her head slightly, chiding her, then kissed her for a second. Grinning, "I remember this one guy — it was just after I got out of my first training at the General's base. I was green as they come, and this guy was too. Anyway, we had some action, and two of the guys got shot up pretty badly, but we all made it back. I guess we were all doing the replay thing, just glad to be alive, and realizing we almost weren't. Anyway, this guy got a hard-on as soon as we got back. He went to the head and jerked off — several times. His dick wouldn't go down. We were due some time off, and he found a whore and about fucked her to death. She made some good money that night, though," he chuckled. "Anyway, he came back to base with his dick still hard. Stress, particularly after-battle stress, tends to show up in all of us, some in rather amusing ways — some in very serious ways. Now save your program and come sit with us. We need to be a family right now. Just you remember, I love you, and you have done nothing wrong."

As he started to stand with her still in his arms, "Wait Jeff. I need to say this, then I'll go with you."

"You don't have to say anything..."

Laura turned to save her program and shut down her computer. "I told you I've been working on an AI program for years. Anytime I had some spare time, I'd ... Well, anyway, when Ann got big enough, I taught her to program in several languages, and well, you know how smart she is. We had a lot of fun together, and as you know, we didn't have money, so I spent a lot of quality time with my daughter, working on this program. After we came out here, Arlene and Helen began helping us. Then we merged it with the security system as we kept working on the code. Jeff ... the program — the AI — looked through its options several times. It noticed the difference in the heat signature from the last time the cleaning crew was here, and I had programmed in a response if there was significantly more heat in the back, or if body outlines were recognized, but I hadn't allowed for less heat."

"Baby, we've already..."

"No; listen. It searched its database, and its options, repeatedly. I didn't program for that. What's the point in telling the program to search again when the information wasn't there the first time. Jeff, the AI did it on its own. It took the initiative. It certainly didn't go far enough and tell us, but that was my fault. I didn't provide a way for it to do that. Jeff, it did something that I didn't tell it to do. It's a minor thing, but it did something on its own."

-------

Whitworth, Jeff and his wives were sitting in the living room watching the monitor as the two big helicopters maneuvered to land. Lieutenant Richardson stood near the helipad directing them via helmet radio.

As soon as the rotors came to a halt, Kayla made a path with the snow blower to the farthest helicopter — the first one had set down near the pad where the snow had already been blown off. Personnel were quickly offloading their supplies.

Jeff stood. "I guess I'll go..."

"And refresh my coffee," General Whitworth interrupted, holding out his cup. As Jeff took it and absently filled it from the carafe on the cart, Whitworth continued. "You're not in combat now, Colonel. Have a seat. No need to stand over those people and make them nervous. That's Lieutenant Richardson's job," he finished, chuckling. "They have your contractor, or project manager, or whatever you're calling him today, helping, and all the tools and supplies they need. Time for us to sit back and watch."

Whitworth took a sip of his coffee as Jeff reluctantly sat back down. "Like I told the Sheriff before he left, this is a military operation. It was a military f... , uh, mess up," he corrected when he realized that Diana could hear, "and we'll do the cleanup. I should have caught the son-of-a-bitch before he took things this far. My subconscious has been nagging me for a while, but I didn't put everything together until it was too late. He's sitting in a cell waiting for me to get back to the base to mete out a little justice. And it's justice he's damn sure going to get."

"Uh, Sir, you mentioned that there was someone else..."

"There is, and he is being taken care of. I don't want to go into that right now, though. The less you and your family know about him, the better. I'll let you know when it's done."

Jeff looked at him, knowing that pushing was useless.

-------

Dave and several of the clean up crew were in the hallway. "The seam where the two sections are joined is here," Dave said, scuffing his foot on the carpet. "Taking the whole section up will get the bullet holes, plus the bloody spot, and it will be easy to weave the new carpet into the old."

"We're going to steam clean all the hallways on this floor after we get the new sections down. There will be less chance of the new carpet standing out from the rest," one of the forensic team said.

-------

As Jeff walked down the basement stairs, he heard an electric welder going. When he neared, Evie flipped the welding hood back to inspect her welds on the steel door. "Oh, hi Jeff."

Jeff grinned down at her. "Is there anything you can't do?" he joked.

"Weell," she said, drawing out the word as if in deep thought.

They both chuckled, then, "He sure did a job on that lock. Must have been in a hurry."

Evie laughed as she shut the machine off and wound her cable up. "Probably trying to get away before someone I know shot his ass off."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't the only one he had to worry about."

"We'll install a new locking mechanism when we get one from Denver. In the meantime, no one is going in or out this door. If we have to bring material in, we'll use the big door there, anyway," she said nodding to it.

"Oh, yeah, I found some connectors and did a permanent fix on the phone lines where that asshole jerked them out of the box," Evie said, pointing. "One of your team stripped the wires with his knife and wound them back together to get the phones working temporarily, but they will be fine now. No need for the phone company to come out and the guy get curious about what happened?"

"Thanks Evie."

Jeff went into the lab, then on into the lab office. Evie walked in a couple minutes later to see Jeff fuming.

"What?"

"My computer," he said as he gestured to the computer laying on its side on his desk. "They were apparently after the hard drives..."

"It smells like something burned in here," Evie offered.

"Yeah," Jeff said. "My hard drives. Bet that pissed them off, though," he said, grimly.

"Do you have backups?"

Jeff looked at her, grinning. "My backups have backups," he chuckled. "The files are on my computer in my office upstairs."

Evie laughed aloud. "IT managers would love you."

"Well, Laura does tend to; maybe that's the reason, huh?" he chuckled. "Wonder if she has a couple extra hard drives laying around somewhere?"

-------

Much later, Jeff stood with Dave watching as the crew turned the hall lights out and scanned for any signs of blood. "This is the last section of carpet. I've been impressed with the crew. They've found every bullet and fragment. Some of the rounds were fragmented, particularly where one of those guys stitched a line down the hall floor. But the forensic people have a detector for everything, and by the way they act, they've darn sure done this kind of thing before. Heck, even I can't see where they joined the carpet."

"What about our bedroom? They aren't done in there yet, are they?"

Dave chuckled. "They didn't say a thing to me when they saw that big — make that gigantic — bed of yours. But they had to tear it down and move it out to be able to get to the carpet. The whole floor had to be re-carpeted; otherwise, something would have shown. They've dug the bullets out of the walls, cleaned the walls, and patched the holes. Still need a while before the last coat of mud is completely dry on the drywall, then it's just the touch up painting to be done. Why don't you go to bed? This is what I do for a living, and these guys are good, maybe not as good at carpet work as my crews, but pretty good, anyway. I'm doing the finishing on the drywall myself..."

"Because you want it to be perfect," Jeff interrupted.

Dave grinned back at him, "Hell, yeah. It's my boss' house, and I wouldn't want to piss him off."

"Yeah, well, it's your house too, Smartass," Jeff laughed.

"All the more reason," Dave said. "Besides, I'll have that little pixie inspector of mine checking out things before this is over. If it passes her inspection, nobody will find anything wrong with it."

"Any luck finding a replacement chandelier?"

"Korey has the model number and is going to try the supplier tomorrow. He was closed by the time I got around to calling. If they don't have one in stock, we'll have one overnighted, or something. We'll be ready for the wedding Friday."

"Don't sweat it. No big deal if it isn't here." Jeff took one last look around at all the work going on. "I'm going to find my women and take a nap," he groggily said. "Maybe my subconscious will let me sleep tonight."

"Yeah, with what's left of the night," Dave joked.

-------

The sergeant in charge of the cleanup crew had asked Jeff if they could borrow his Expedition so they could take the cleaning company's van back to Denver. They exchanged Jeff's license plate with one of their own that was registered to a fictitious person in Chicago, Illinois. Two of the forensic people had sanitized the van, making sure there were no fingerprints or DNA left. Jeff and the General didn't want the Hagewoods tied in any way to the van, which would then tie them back to Jeff and the retreat.

Their sergeant had told them to drop the van at a bar, or if that didn't work out, to leave it in a Wal-Mart or other large parking lot. Under no circumstance were they to take the Colonel's Expedition closer than two blocks to wherever they left the van.

Sergeant Phillips stood by the van as Rivera and Cooper were getting ready to leave. "Apparently a crew not getting back before closing time isn't unusual enough for the cleaning company's people to worry much. They haven't called here and the van hasn't been reported stolen — yet. You can bet it will be, though, when they open up in the morning and the van still isn't back. That said, the cops probably aren't looking for it, yet, so this should be a milk run. But ... if you get stopped by the cops and they should charge you with anything, just stick with the fake ID, suck it up and wait. The General will have the FBI take over the case and you will be back at the base before you know it."

"Any questions?"

"Nah, Sarge. We'll be back in a few hours."

"Speed limit, Guys..."

"Sarge, we've done this shit before. Nobody will notice us."

Sergeant Phillips sighed, "I know, but we have a Colonel and the General involved in this one. Do not fuck up."

-------

Later, Rivers, driving the van, made a pass by a bar that was located on a small street just off Denver's downtown section. The bar's parking lot appeared to be crammed with vehicles, but he spotted a parking place on the street about a block past the bar. He parked and looked around, trying to be as casual as he could. After double-checking, he still couldn't see any security cameras anywhere. Giving instructions to his buddy via cell phone, he pulled his long-billed cap down over his eyes, got out of the van, walked to the other side of the street, then on down the street for two blocks. Turning left at the corner, he stepped into the Expedition, grinned at his partner and said, "Left the keys in the ignition and the windows down. Should be stolen before daylight. Home James," he finished, let his seat back and was soon asleep.

The cleaning company van would be reported stolen by the cleaning company, and found later in the day by a passing patrol car. The gangbangers in the area checked the van out, but thought it was a setup by the police to catch them stealing a vehicle, so had let it alone. When the police towed it away later in the day, the punks were sure it had been a setup. The cleaning equipment that Vasquez had put in the storage building wasn't found until months later when the company owning the mini-warehouse facility broke the lock on the door to sell whatever was inside at auction.

-------

Jeff walked quietly into the bedroom, dropped his clothes and crawled onto the mattresses they had joined together on the floor. He had been operating on adrenalin and coffee for the last hours, but the days without proper sleep and the stress had finally taken their toll. The women moved and a place opened up for him. Sighing, he turned onto his back, stretching out his arms. Arlene snuggled to his left shoulder and Diana took her place on his right as he hugged them to him. I need to hold Arlene and talk to her,  his numb mind managed.

Instead of him assuring Arlene, she rolled to her side, her mouth inches from his ear. "We're all together and safe. Sleep," she urged him. And he did.



-------

Chapter 78


TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 15

Diana met General Whitworth in the hall as he was looking for Jeff. "He's in the living room, General. How many for breakfast?"

Whitworth paused to look at her. Mrs ... but the look on Diana's face changed that to, "Uh, Diana, the choppers brought in field rations..."

"What? Nobody comes to my house and eats field rations. Admittedly, all the teams got yesterday was sandwiches while Arlene was being healed, but that's not going to happen now. It will be one thing when the security team gets moved into the ski lodge and can provide for their own cooked meals, but until then, everyone eats with us."

The General tried one more time. "Diana, there are a number of these guys, and well ... they expend a lot of energy..."

"I guarantee none of them will eat more than my husband. Now breakfast will be served in the large dining room at six. My sister-wives and I will be very disappointed if all that food goes to waste. Also, I realize that some of those people will be on guard duty. There will be fresh food put on the breakfast bar when they come in. Besides, this will be a good test run for Friday when all the wedding guests will be here."

Jeff was sniggering when the General walked into the living room, having seen his wife, hands on hips, talking to Whitworth. "Problems?" he innocently asked.

Whitworth glared at him as he keyed his radio. "This is Whitworth. Breakfast in the large dining room at zero six hundred hours," he announced, before walking over and pouring himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the serving cart.

-------

General Whitworth had assumed that the family would eat in the kitchen where they always did, never suspecting that they would think of eating with the two teams. But as the General's people came in and lined up for the breakfast bar, the women joined in, deliberately timing their arrivals to mesh with the men and women from the base. The Mathews clan, including Dave's women, Bill's women, and Margaret, were all dressed casually in jeans or slacks with conservative tops, playing down their beauty to some degree. Unlike what most of the troops expected, the women didn't appear arrogant or stuck-up, despite obviously living in luxury. Instead, the women laughed and cut up, and were careful to thank the troopers for coming to help.

The new girls and Susan sat together, but the rest of the women sat with whomever they happened to be talking at the moment. All the women had their wedding rings on though, and they made a subtle point to display those rings as they reached for food at the bar, or while talking. The point was clear: we're sitting with you to show that you are welcome here, but we're married.

Reminded by the General, Lieutenant Richardson and Sergeant Gomez had discreetly let each person on the forensic team know to wait for Colonel Matthews to say the blessing. He always had a short prayer before he and his team went on a mission, and when he could, before they ate, but Whitworth was making sure there would not be any embarrassing moments at the Matthews' home. When everyone had a full plate and was seated, Jeff gave thanks for the food and his family having survived the ordeal, also giving thanks for his team and the forensic people.

As the meal was winding down, Diana stood. After gaining everyone's attention, "Again, my family and I would like to thank you for coming to help us. My husband, and my sister-wife Helen were hurt during this attack, and my daughter was almost killed by these..." her voice faltered for a second, "creatures who called themselves men. Good riddance, and I hope they burn in Hell," she said, vehemently. There was a chuckling from the audience as this beautiful woman who projected an unconscious air of dignity, suddenly voiced her ire with those who had attacked her family. Then, just as quickly, the gracious woman was back as she continued, "You will always be welcome in our home. That statement isn't just words strung together. I mean it from the depths of my heart. Don't be strangers. Come visit. And while you're here this morning, I would like to introduce our newest members of the family. Some of you already know them, for you rescued them from Ingles."

Motioning the girls to stand, Diana introduce them, then told about the twins being sixteen today. That produced a round of happy birthday wishes from the group, which in turn produced very red-faced twins.

Jeff sat back, sipping his coffee and watching his Queen, still amazed at her after sixteen years of marriage. The room was again silent as a tomb as everyone listened to her. With a quiet word, she could command absolute attention from a room full of people, yet there was no arrogance or anything else of that nature about her.

As his Queen continued, Jeff thought, She has been the one who has brought all of us together — brought each of my wives into the whole — made them part of the gestalt. More than that, somehow she has taught them to act, almost literally, as one person. She says it comes from me — something I project. But it's Diana who molds them into one. And now, with a few simple words, she has left an impression with these people that they won't easily forget — ever.

He saw Susan watching him, instead of watching her daughter. He winked at her, and Susan smiled back. Well, my, my. Is the Ice Queen thawing? he thought.

-------

Caitlin and Joyce stood hugging Jeff. Joyce kissed Jeff furiously, leaving both of them gasping. "You were too tired, and it was too late for you to service us when you came to bed last night," she quietly said as she unconsciously straightened and re-straightened his collar as she spoke, not wanting to give up his nearness. "I was off listening to crap at that class. Crap I'll never use, and because of that damn school, I didn't even get to kill a single one of those bastards when they attacked. And I can't even complain about it to the guys and gals I work with."

Then suddenly sobering, "I'm being selfish. You need to make love to Arlene tonight — spend some extra time with her. She's putting on a good front, but ... she met death yesterday. Met him, shot him the bird, and came back to us. Nobody comes that close to death without being marked by it to some degree. Anyway, been there; done that."

"I know, Baby. I know. I'm worried about Arlene, too. I've already pulled her aside and held her for a little while this morning. I'll take your advice and pay special attention to her when we make love tonight."

Caitlin, who had been hugging them both, looked at her watch. "Rats, gotta run. I'm liking this job less every day." Quickly kissing Jeff, then Joyce, she was gone.

Jeff mentally crossed his fingers. He surely didn't want her job to go badly, but he wanted all his wives with him all the time. That's what I get for being attracted to strong-willed women,  he thought.

-------

Jeff, Diana, Dave and Evie were sitting at the kitchen table. Jeff looked at Diana, "If you had rather I call them, I will."

Diana stood to get the phone from the counter near them. "Oh, you mean, because I'll have to lie to them? Yeah, well, they should have used a little more discretion in their hiring of those two. Because of that, Vasquez and Guterrez put all my family at risk and almost killed my daughter. I don't have any problem with lying to them so we're finished with this."

After getting the manager of the cleaning company on the phone, Diana assumed an air of anger, demanding to know why the cleaning people had not showed up for their regularly scheduled Monday cleaning of her home.

The manager, flustered, admitted that the other two customers that the crew should have serviced later in the day had already called to complain that his people had not shown up. "Ma'am, they didn't return the van last night, either. I have no idea what happened. I've already called the police here in Denver, and the Sheriff in your area. There haven't been any wrecks recorded with a cleaning van involved. I have no idea..."

"Just cancel my Wednesday cleaning for the wedding, then," Diana interrupted. "I'll make other arrangements. I have a wedding coming up. I will not tolerate people who don't show up for scheduled work appointments, and whose company doesn't even keep track of them."

"But Ma'am. I have other crews, and we'll..."

"No," Diana snapped. "I don't want your people in my home. Your people decided to take off for the day and you don't even know about it. I'll call you if I ever decide to use you again." She slammed down the phone.

"Wow," Jeff said. "You sounded like you meant it. I thought you might have trouble lying..."

"Who says I didn't mean it?" she said, turning to him. "Remember, it was his employees who came in my house and tried to kill us, and almost succeeded with my daughter. Maybe he didn't have anything to do with it, but the people he hired did. I don't want any of them in this house ever again. I'll either get some other company to do it, or else my sister-wives and I will do it ourselves."

Evie caught Diana's attention. "There's a company in Winter Park that we've used for the final cleaning before we put the houses we've redone on the market. They've given us good service. I have their number on my laptop, if you want to call them."

Diana did, indeed call, and a few minutes later, she was talking with the owner. When Diana explained who she was and what she wanted. He asked for her address. After she gave it to him, "Are we talking about the big, private hotel near the ski lodge that had the avalanche a couple years ago?"

"Well, there's an abandoned ski lodge on past the retreat. So I guess we're talking about the same place."

"You have a driveway that goes up a cliff face, right?"

Diana chuckled. "Yeah, I think that about describes it."

The cleaning service owner laughed. "My wife and I drove up there when the hotel — uh, your retreat — was about half finished. The driveway was gravel then and there were no guardrails..."

"It's been paved and the guardrails are quite substantial now," Diana interrupted, but there's another thing. We have several young women who live here. If you send men up here and I catch them ogling any of us, I'm going to be very displeased. Normally, we do most of our own cleaning, but we are going to have a wedding here Friday night, and we'll have guests starting to come in on Thursday. I'll need a minimum of four people here all day Wednesday. None of the rooms and suites are dirty, as far as that is concerned, but they've been vacant for a while, so they need to be dusted, the vanities, sinks and mirrors wiped down; things like that. Plus I want the kitchen and both dining room floors done, and the living room fireplace cleaned. I would feel better with six people Wednesday. After that, we'll need a major cleaning next Monday when all the guests have gone. That will probably be at least two days' work. From then on, we'll only need two people a half-day or so on Mondays.

The owner could feel his bank account getting bigger. "Ma'am, I could promise you something, but then I might not be able to deliver, and I sure don't want to start things off with you mad at me. Look, I have two married couples working for me, and I think I can do some rescheduling so I can send them up on Wednesday. I can guarantee you that they won't be staring at any of the women. Let me see what I can do about their schedule, and I'll call you back in a few minutes. Would that be all right?"

"That would be fine," Diana returned. "I'll be waiting on your call."

-------

A little later, Dave had the monitor on and the camera trained on the road at the bottom of the driveway. "There goes the first of the dozers," he said as he stood. Draining his coffee cup, he watched several other vehicles go by. "I have two electricians coming in with their helpers. The power company is scheduled for later today, and also the phone company. If things go right, we'll have the place up and running by tonight. Lots more work to be done, of course, but we'll have the minimum the teams need to stay there."

"I'll do the walk through with Jeff and Diana," Evie said. "You go on and get started at the ski lodge, if you want to."

"I haven't noticed anything..." Jeff started.

"I know," Evie said, "but the General wants all of us to check the place out together, and I agree with him. We wouldn't want one of the wedding guests to find a bullet hole or an obvious blood spot somewhere we haven't thought to look, or the equipment somehow missed."

The phone rang. "Matthews' residence, Diana speaking."

"Uh, Ms. Matthews..."

"Mrs.," Diana interrupted. "I'm proud to be married."

"Uh, yes Ma'am. Mrs. Matthews, I've managed to reschedule those people we talked about. I can have two married couples at your home at seven Wednesday morning. They will stay until the work is done. I can have them back Monday and Tuesday of next week to clean up after your guests, and Wednesday also if it takes it. Would that be satisfactory?"

Diana discussed rates with him, and after they agreed on a price, she said, "We have security at the bottom of the drive. They will ask to look inside your cleaning van."

The cleaning company owner, used to dealing with rich people, simply said, "No problem. And if it will be okay with you, I'll stop by sometime shortly after my people get there to make sure things are going as they should."

"I think I would like that," Diana returned, impressed with his attitude.

-------

Jeff, Diana, Kayla, Helen, Laura, Evie, General Whitworth, the sergeant who was in charge of the forensic people, and his team leader spent the next forty-five minutes examining the retreat. Each person who had been involved tried to remember just what had happened where, then they all examined the area in question until they were certain there was nothing left to indicate there had been violence in the retreat. The two forensic people also used their detection equipment as they went along. Nothing showed.

They wound up in the basement. The burnt smell was now gone, replaced by a faint scent of flowers. Jeff's computer, with its side back on, now sat upright on his desk, although he had not yet installed the new disk drives. The old ones were removed and what was left of them was aboard one of the helicopters to later be disposed of at the base. The broken locking mechanism still showed on the smaller of the two basement doors, plus the new spot welds, but nothing stood out, and the welds and broken locking mechanism, if noticed, could easily be explained away. The same for the missing chandelier.

After the cleanup, there had been a distinct lack of snow at the end of the retreat where Vasquez had been, but judicious use of the snow blower had corrected that. Vasquez' bigger chunks had been removed from the retreat wall by hand, then the wall scraped, brushed and finally, steam cleaned. Even the water — soon ice — from the steam cleaning had been removed and was aboard the helicopters. The few ashes left in the incinerator were also aboard one of the choppers. A layer of bullet-chipped bricks had been removed along the short wall that Vasquez had hidden behind. Nothing about the attack or the men who did it would ever show.

-------

Jeff and the General stood watching as the helicopters lifted, then after a few moments, disappeared out of sight over the top of the mountain.

"I want to see Buckmann," Jeff told Whitworth as they walked back toward the retreat, a light snow starting to fall.

Whitworth stopped and turned to Jeff. Laying a hand on his shoulder, "Look, I know how you feel, but Major Bailey told me that the techs have wrung Buckmann dry of information. At my direction, they pumped him full of drugs and he, of course, told everything he knew. I have all the information I need. I'll have him shot when I get back. You can be assured of that."

"I understand, Sir. Nevertheless, I need to see him."

The two men stood a few feet apart staring into each other's eyes. At last Whitworth sighed, "Hell, if it had been one of my family that almost died because of him, I would want to speak with the son-of-a-bitch, too. The team is ready to go, other than the ones who will stay until the security team gets here. And I'm anxious to get back to my base, also. You think you can convince that thing," he said with a lopsided grin, nodding toward the ship, "to take us back to the base?"

Jeff chuckled, "I just might be able to do that," he joked, "but she's going to have to bring me back home later today. I'll be in some serious trouble if I miss the twins' birthday party."

"Just so she goes back to the base after she brings you home," Whitworth said, hoping Jeff wouldn't object, but somehow afraid he would.

"Sounds like a plan," Jeff said. "Let me tell my women where I'll be this afternoon."

-------

Jeff and Diana stood in the bedroom. When Jeff told her he was going back to the base for a few hours, Diana snapped her head up and her eyes locked onto his. "Jeff Matthews, I don't want..."

"Stop, Di. There's no use in us getting crossways over this. I'm going to talk to Buckmann. This shit started with him, and I want to know why."

Diana knew there was a lot left out of that statement, but she also knew that she would not change her husband's mind. The sound of his voice, the look on his face, the feeling he projected, made that a certainty. She took a trembling breath, "All right, I'm not going to whine. I don't want you to go, but I want you to promise me..."

"Don't," Jeff started, but his voice mellowed, "try to make me promise anything. I'll be back later today. I will promise that." Jeff pulled her to him and kissed her hard. "Tell my other wives and the girls I'll be here for the party." He kissed Diana again, and without anything else passing between them, walked out of the room and started down the hall. Kayla, who had gotten there just in time to hear the end of the conversation, frantically grabbed her gear and took off after him. Catching up to him near the back, she and Jeff slipped into their coats and jogged toward the range where Jeff's team and the General waited in the ship.

-------

Moments after the ship left, all Jeff's wives, came streaming into the bedroom where Diana sat brooding in one of the seats.

"Mom,  where did Daddy go?" Arlene, in the lead, got out before the others could say anything. "We can still feel him, but he's a long way away."

Before Diana could answer, the door opened again with Susan and the girls coming in to quickly gather near and listen. Diana, her eyes wet with tears, looked up at her daughter. "He went back to the base. Kayla went with him, but they'll be here for the party tonight, though."

"Bullshit," Arlene hissed out. "There's more to it than that. Why else would you be crying?"

"I'm not crying," Diana said, even as she wiped at her eyes. "I'm just ... pissed. Why do men have to be men? He's gone to see Buckmann. Translate that into he's gone to kill Buckmann. But we all know your father; he won't just kill the son-of-a-bitch. Oh, no. He'll make it a fair fight."

"Did he tell you all this?" Helen asked, trying to be calm.

"No. Of course not."

"Then how do you..." But Helen broke off her own words as reality struck. "Shit," she hissed out, totally out of character for her. "I remember Jeff's face when the General told us it was Buckmann who started this, plus someone else that the General said he had already started a process to take care of."

-------

Buckmann's cell was constructed of three concrete walls, with the front wall made of floor-to-ceiling steel bars. Buckmann stood, dressed in fatigue pants and a gray tee shirt with no rank insignia showing. As the cell door clanged closed behind Jeff, Buckmann sneered at the new Colonel. "What's the matter Matthews? You so scared of an unarmed man that you can't step in here without the pulse rifles," he said, waving negligently toward the two troopers stationed in the hallway near either end of the cell, their rifles up and aimed at Buckmann's head, their fingers already on the triggers. Kayla stood beside one of them with her pistol in her hand.

"At ease, Troopers," Jeff said without looking behind him.

"Sorry, Sir," the third man, a sergeant, replied. "We have our orders directly from the General. One wrong move out of Buckmann and we have strict orders to kill him."

Jeff shrugged, and continued with Buckmann, "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?" Buckmann said, a grin spreading over his face.

"Order my family killed," Jeff said, his voice calm and quiet.

Buckmann chuckled, then a sneer marred his countenance. "You have everything. No matter what happens, you wind up with the best of everything. I've worked hard all my life. I've given my life to serve my country, and to that idiot who's running this place. You wind up with more than a hundred millions dollars from a so-called invention that you probably found off-planet. Then you bring back a ship — a fucking space ship. Then there's that healer thing that you brought back, also. All the other healers quit, but yours worked — worked far better than the others. You look like you're younger. Your wife looks ten years younger than the pictures I have of her taken a few years ago. Then I find out you have a fucking harem."

"The invention didn't come from off-planet," Jeff quietly responded. "I've been working on that for years. It's a logical extension of known science."

"Maybe so, but you got rich off it without having to work for the money. Then the fucking General gives you that healer. Bribes you with it to go on that fucking suicide mission. I thought that would finish your ass, but nooo, you came back in that fucking space ship."

"So why didn't you sit in one of the command couches if you wanted to command her?" Jeff asked, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Others did."

"And go crazy? Not bloody likely. You did something to that ship when you found it in that mountain hangar. You rigged it so anyone who tried to run it would go nuts."

"I..."

"Fuck you, Matthews!" Buckmann suddenly yelled, almost getting himself killed by the startled troopers. "I claim challenge rights. We fight to the death. Show the rest of the people here the coward you are and refuse me."

-------

"It's my right, General," Jeff insisted as he sat in the General's office. "That's what the ring is for."

"Come on, Colonel. You know he's baiting you. You also know that he was an unarmed combat instructor for years — not to say anything about his having taught our troops knife fighting. Damnit Jeff, I'm not going to let you do this."

"It's my right, Sir. And you know it. Arlene almost died, or maybe even did die. She thinks she did, anyway. There aren't adjectives descriptive enough to convey the feeling I had when I picked my daughter up in that hallway after that scumbag shot her, the blood pouring out of her back where that bullet went through her. Shit. I can't get it off my mind. She's only alive today because of Little One and the Ship. Buckmann ordered my family killed..."

"You too, for that matter," the General interrupted.

Jeff sighed, stretched out his long legs and stared at the General. "If he had just ordered me killed, I wouldn't be here arguing with you. Assuming I survived, of course, I would have just let you take care of Buckmann, but that bastard ordered my whole family killed — burned to death. You heard him a little while ago when we listened to his recorded confession under the truth drugs. Regardless of what that politician did that you told me about, without Buckmann this wouldn't have happened. It was his plan from the beginning. He did all this to get Little One, and for revenge because of some perceived wrongs I did him. The politician was brought in because of his connections and his money. Killing Buckmann with a firing squad is too simple. And why should those men have to do my job for me? Buckmann wants the arena. He's asked for it. Challenged me to a knife fight to the death. I'm willing. He's demanding it, and there's just cause for the arena. And although there hasn't been a terminal fight in years, the rules you set down governing the arena still allow it. You can't deny us without going against tradition that dates back to the very beginning of this unit. If I deny him this, I'll be branded a coward..."

"Oh, bullshit, Colonel. There's nobody on this base who would believe that. Besides, I have a strong suspicion that you somehow set this up..."

"The Major told us he had been asking for a challenge with me before we got back. Whether I came back looking for it or not, he was already asking. He challenged me in the cell in front of four witnesses. I can't refuse him."

"Damnit Jeff, I can't risk you. What about that ... uh, her, sitting out there," he said motioning to the monitor that showed the ship sitting in the underground hangar. "She only responds to you. You are the only one who can command her. You are too fucking valuable to me to risk. You are a fucking national asset. Damnit Jeff, if he kills you, more than just you will be involved," the General said, trying a new tack. "My life could very well depend on the outcome as well, at least if the ship being here ever becomes common knowledge. I allowed the only person on this earth who could command the ship, into a fucking knife fight, a fight in which he was killed. There might be a little shit over that."

Jeff got up and refreshed their coffee, then sat back down and calmly sipped the hot brew, his eyes now locked to the General's.

"Don't start that shit. Don't try to force me to do this," Whitworth ground out.

"I'm not, General, and you know it. I'm just sitting here waiting for logic to take its course."

"Ah, fuck," Whitworth said, turning to the right a little, breaking eye contact and putting his feet up on the corner of his desk, staring at the monitor on the wall. "If Buckmann kills you, no telling what that thing will do. She might go apeshit and destroy the base. Ever think about that?"

"She won't."

"Ah, fuck," Whitworth repeated. "Ah, fuck!"



-------

Chapter 79

Arguments among the troops were settled in various ways, those ways proven over time by armies the world over. But when those means failed and there seemed no other alternative, the ring became a last resort. Sometimes it was the only way to appease combat troops used to violence. It was a simple boxing ring, and was used as that most of the time, but it had a bright red spot, a foot in diameter in the center. Out three feet from the spot in either direction were two parallel lines, again in red. Opponents stood at these lines facing each other as the match began. The males were allowed only exercise shorts. The females were also allowed an exercise bra. Cross-sex matches were not allowed. A mouthpiece wasn't required for a knife fight. The fight was allowed to continue until one opponent could not respond, or one of them gave up. But those matches were not to the death. This one was.

The fight was announced to all base personnel. This was the first time two Colonels had fought in the ring, ever, let alone to the death. Everything that could be was cancelled or rescheduled to allow as many personnel as possible to attend in person. Those who were unlucky enough to have to work — guard duty and the like — were provided monitoring equipment so that they would be able to see the fight anyway, albeit some would be using small screens, or helmets. Off-world personnel would gripe for years because they had missed the fight.

Jeff, dressed only in exercise shorts, padded down the hallway toward the General's office. Excluding special occasions, normal procedure did not require a salute inside the main building, unless reporting to a superior officer, or relieving at a duty station. And someone wearing only exercise shorts certainly wasn't saluted ... until today. Jeff met eight people in the hallway between his quarters and the General's office. Every one of them came to a halt, braced and saluted.

The last had been two young female troopers. After they had saluted, Jeff had returned it and had walked on. After he passed, one of the women slumped against the wall. "I damn near had an orgasm," she gasped out to the other. "We brushed shoulders as we passed. It was like touching an electric wire. Damn, he looks good and he smells like ... I don't know. Really, really good, though," she said as they watched Colonel Matthews turn the corner. "There's just ... something about him..."

"Yeah, and he has a harem, too," the other said, "Sorry, Donna. We don't have a chance with him. He doesn't even know we exist."

Neither of the troopers had the faintest idea just how good Jeff's hearing was. Red-faced, he finally made it to the General's outer office, where the sergeant called everyone to attention, and Jeff got the treatment again. He rapped on the General's door, heard, "Come," and walked in.

From the Cheshire grin on Whitworth's face, Jeff figured his commander had been watching on the monitor.

"Those last two..." Whitworth started.

"Don't go there," Jeff said as he put his combat knife on the General's desk, and to have something to do, walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee. As Jeff sat down, Whitworth set the knife display on its side so his Colonel could see.

"Bowie knives?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah. The set belongs to Buckmann. Twelve inch blades. Made by the same process our combat knives are made. Buckmann demands to use them in the fight."

"I'll stick with mine."

"Eight inch blade against his twelve inch. I can deny his request," Whitworth said.

"No, let it be. I'll stick with mine, though," Jeff said again.

Eying Jeff's knife as it lay on the desk, Whitworth started to say something, hesitated, then making up his mind said, "I guess it's useless to say this, but I'm going to do it anyway, and I am dead serious. I could pick up my pistol, go down and put a round between that bastard's eyes, and no one would even blink."

"Don't," Jeff said.

They sat quietly for several minutes, each with his own thoughts, "If you're not going to use one of his Bowie knives, I have a request," Whitworth said.

Jeff looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

The General got up, walked over to his gear and came back with his knife. Placing it on the desk in front of him, he sat back down. "I would be honored if you would use Ellen. She's been bloodied, of course, but not for a long time. May never be again. I..." Whitworth ground to a halt. Generals didn't usually get to see combat, at least not up close.

Jeff leaned forward and picked up the combat knife, automatically glancing at the blade edge. No one who knew anything about the combat knives would deliberately touch the edge, just as you wouldn't touch the edge of a scalpel. Off-world combat specialists were issued a combat knife that none of the other troops was allowed to carry. The knives were produced, one at a time, by the only knife maker in the world who used the particular procedure. In a secret process, several types of steel were folded twenty-four hundred times, then the blade revealed in an acid bath to produce a pattern of grays that tended toward purple, and the pattern was unique for each blade similar to the famed Damascus steel. The handle, the color of old blood, was made of ironwood, and polished to perfection.

The blades could be hammered through a half inch steel rod and the edge would still shave. Indeed, there were no provisions for sharpening the knives, for they never needed it. Nor were the blades brittle. By unit tradition, combat knives could only be named after having been bloodied in battle. The men usually picked female names, and the women usually picked male names.

Whitworth sat watching Jeff as he handled the knife. "You might be able to feel the difference, one knife to another, but I can't. Oh, I can recognize my knife among others, because of the pattern worked into the metal, but I can't feel the difference."

"Yes," Jeff said, looking the General in the eye. "I will use her and be honored to do so. Just keep Di safe for me until I'm ready to go home."

-------

Kayla was scared spitless, but striving hard not to show it. She had tried her best to stick with Jeff, but the General had given her several duties. Duties, she suspected that were more to keep her away from Jeff than anything else. She couldn't believe her mate had allowed Buckmann to lure him into this. Her time with the General's people had mostly been spent off-world. She knew little of the politics of the base, and practically nothing about Buckmann himself. Everyone she came in contact with seemed to be talking about the coming match. Although now-Colonel Matthews was a near-legend because of his exploits off-world, there was a lot being said about the now ex-Colonel Buckmann. Although betting was frowned upon, and commercial betting practically didn't exist on the base, that didn't seem to apply to the personal betting going on about the coming fight.

His team isn't even here to support him,  Kayla fretted. Oh, shit, are they going to be pissed they missed this. I know he'll win, but ... Everybody says Buckmann has taught knife fighting for years. Oh, I can't lose Jeff. Oh, shit,  she suddenly thought, Diana will kill me if I allow anything to happen to him. I have to see the General. I have to put a stop to this. This is insane.

But Whitworth had anticipated her, his sergeant meeting her as soon as she finished her last duty and entered the General's outer office. The message was clear. Behave herself and she would stand by the ring and watch her charge; continue and she would watch the match via monitor while sitting in a cell.

-------

Kayla, dressed in fatigues, her pistol in its holster on her hip, walked beside her Colonel — her mate — as they entered the auditorium. Buckmann, surrounded by guards, walked through a doorway on the other side and headed toward the ring.

Kayla glared over at him. You son-of-a-bitch,  she thought, if you're the one left standing, you'll be dead anyway. The General didn't take my gun away, and I'll use it if Jeff doesn't win. I'll empty a magazine into your ass before anyone can stop me. You'll die today, one way or the other. I never heard the General say that you could win your freedom by killing Jeff — if you can manage it. He just granted your demand to fight him. Either way, you'll be dead soon.

-------

Diana, Arlene, and the rest of Jeff's wives were gathered in their new suite when Susan and the girls walked in. "What's going on?" Susan asked, then seeing Diana's face, she sucked in a hissing breath.

Before she could say anything more, Diana spoke up, "As we all know, Jeff went back to the base to 'see' the one who started all this. I'm afraid for our husband..." she got out as she slumped forward in her seat, Arlene now hugging her. "Jeff won't just kill him, Jeff will offer him a fair fight."

"Mom, Daddy will win..."

"I know. I know," Diana said through the tears flowing from her eyes and the lump in her throat, "but I'm scared. I'm really, really scared."

"We prayed for Joyce," Arlene said as she looked at her sister-wife. "We can do it for Dad, too."

-------

Kayla stood just outside Jeff's corner of the ring, her holster unsnapped, her right hand aching to hold her Glock. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. I can't stop this, and oh shit, that damn knife of Buckmann's looks big. They might as well have let that bastard bring a sword,  she fretted.

Major Bailey walked to the center of the ring and motioned for Jeff and Buckmann to take their places. Both men, their knives at their sides, walked to the center, stopping at the blood-red lines to face each other, six feet apart. Bailey stood a couple feet back from the red circle to address the two men. Normally, he would give a short talk, traditional, lasting maybe ten seconds, before ordering the match to commence.

Looking at Buckmann, Major Bailey asked, "This is a match to the death. Do you agree?"

"Yes!" Buckmann snapped out before Bailey even got the words fully said.

"And you, Colonel Matthews, do you agree?"

"Yes," Jeff said, his voice quiet, but firm, the PA system, nevertheless, echoing his voice throughout the auditorium as it had Buckmann's.

"Very well, in keeping with tradition..."

But Buckmann didn't wait for Bailey's short speech, nor his order to begin. Instead, Buckmann lunged at Jeff. Buckmann had always taught his students to end a knife fight as quickly as possible, preferably while the opponent was still making up his mind to fight.

Bailey tried to jump back as Buckmann shouldered past with his panther quick strike with the big knife, but Bailey wasn't fast enough; the spray from an artery caught him anyway.

Buckmann lay on his back, split from groin to throat, the razor edge of the General's knife having been driven through muscles, bone and flesh by the power of a Prime. Buckmann's guts and innards continued to spill slowly out of the ghastly wound, a look of amazement on his dead face, the smell of feces, urine and blood strong.

Jeff slung the blood from the knife blade, then accepted a towel from the General as he stepped into the ring. Carefully wiping the blade clean, Jeff inspected it, thanked the General for the use of his knife, then handed Ellen back to him as the crowd, having been stunned to silence, suddenly erupted.

Hours before, Buckmann's confession had been put on the base's system so anyone who wished could listen to it. The General turned to Major Bailey who was wiping a splatter of blood from his face. "This," the General said, motioning to Buckmann's body, "goes to the incinerator with the other trash lest this traitor's remains desecrate the graves of our fallen comrades." The General's voice, also picked up by the PA system, produced a roar of approval from the troops.

Kayla slammed into Jeff, her arms locking around him. Jeff looked over her shoulder, thinking to glare anyone down who might have a comment, but he didn't see anyone who seemed in the least worried about any etiquette that Kayla might have broken. Where Kayla couldn't see, the General winked at Jeff.

"Let's go home," the Prime whispered into her ear.

As soon as Kayla and Jeff stepped out of the ring, a Sergeant Major bellowed out, "Unit. Ten-hut."

"Present. ARMS."

"Order. ARMS."

Fuck,  Jeff thought, as he returned the salute, realizing the General had saluted him with everyone else.

-------

A little later, Kayla and Jeff walked out into the hangar alone. Probably the General's orders,  Jeff thought as they headed toward the Ship. He told me he would have our things put aboard. Otherwise, I'm going to freeze my ass off when we get back to the retreat,  he mused.

Inside, a few moments later, Jeff quickly dressed as Kayla stood smiling. He put his hand on her shoulder, sending a message to Little One. Kayla shivered as Little One flowed out of Kayla's collar and onto her shoulder where Jeff picked her up and put her on his own shoulder. Miss me? he teased the small alien as she burrowed under his collar.

{{{ Why? Were you gone somewhere? }}} she teased back, the thought clear and unfettered with the jumble of information she usually sent for Jeff to have to sort into something he could understand.

What happened? Jeff quickly sent back, but only got amusement in return.

"Did she try to talk to you while she was on your shoulders?" Jeff asked Kayla.

"No, I only got ... contentment, I guess you could say. Then I was so worried about you that I forgot about her. Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Jeff said, "Uh, nothing I guess. She just seemed — different there for a minute."

The door/hatch popped open and someone pounded up the ramp. "Sir, the General sent this," the trooper said, handing Jeff a helmet memory cube and a DVD disk. Saluting again, the trooper turned and quickly left. The door and ramp ceased to exist.

Jeff, suspecting what he had been given, mentally shifted gears, said, "Come on, let's get settled in and get home," as he led the way down the corridor to the command center.

Settling himself into one of the "couches," he motioned to the next one.

"You've got to be kidding, right?" Kayla said, staring back at Jeff, not moving a muscle. "One dead, the rest nuts, at least for a time. No way am I sitting in that seat."

"The ship didn't know enough about the human mind then. She won't hurt you, or any of my mates."

Kayla continued to look down at Jeff for a moment, then summoning her courage, her faith in her mate driving her, she settled cautiously into the next couch.

The ship suddenly ceased to exist around her. It was if she and Jeff were suspended in air as she looked around at the inside of the hangar. Her hands locked in a death grip on the arms of her couch. Before she could say anything, the hangar disappeared and a fuzzy, gray nothingness surrounded the ship.

The hangar reverberated to the sound of air crashing back to fill the void where the ship had just stood. To Kayla, in the next instant, she was suspended high above the retreat, the snow-covered mountains spread out below her. Her grip on the arms of the couch tightened even more, if possible, "Oh, Jeff," she started, but the ship suddenly became solid around her again with only the front wall of the chamber seeming to remain invisible.

"Sorry," Jeff said. "I didn't know I could do that. I'm still learning."

The viewscreen changed its orientation. Kayla closed her eyes as the ground seemed to rush up at her with an impossible speed. Then the ship hovered at the exact same spot it had left hours before as the viewscreen shifted to show the parking lot and back door of the retreat.

"Let's go see what my wives are doing."

What his wives were doing was streaming out the back door of the retreat, heading for the ship, with the new girls and Susan all holding hands and trying to catch up.

"Show yourself," Kayla urged Jeff as she stared at the image — if it was an image — "before one of your wives breaks a leg on some of that ice."

They quickly picked up their belongings and shortly Jeff was being hugged and kissed half to death as they stood at the base of the ramp.

Eventually, Kayla held the DVD up. "Everything is right here. The fight lasted a whole second," she crowed. "But you need to have an empty stomach to watch this," she hastily added.

Arlene snatched the disk and took off for the retreat, Ann, Melissa and Jenny standing stunned for a second before they caught on and turned in pursuit.

"You do not want to look at that," Kayla said to the new girls as they stood undecided.

"Nobody, needs to see that," Jeff said, then yelled after Arlene, who didn't slow down in the slightest.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, but Diana was clinging to him too tightly for him to dislodge her in time to catch up with Arlene. Then turning to glare at Kayla, "I wish you hadn't let them have that disk."

Kayla just smirked at him.

"Well, I want to see the fight," Joyce said, "but I'll wait until later. I want to be with our husband now."

Jeff looked down to see tears on Diana's face. "Why are you crying, Baby?"

"Because you're home," Diana sniffed, again leaving Jeff totally mystified.

Diana wouldn't let go, but walked with him to the retreat, her arms tight around his waist. By the back door, Jeff stood for a second looking at the ship. With the familiar clap of air slamming together, she was gone.

In the kitchen, Diana seated him at the head of the table and quickly brought him a cup of coffee.

"We'll have supper on the table in a few minutes. How about a snack while you wait?" she anxiously said, practically fawning over him.

Jeff jerked her onto his lap, then kissed her hard. Stroking her hair and face, he quietly said, "I'm back, My Love. Calm down. I didn't even get a scratch, Baby." Then with one of his favorite expressions, "You're making a mountain out of a mole hill."

Diana stared him in the face, willing herself to not scream in frustration. "I know you killed him. And I wanted him to die. My daughter nearly died, not to say anything about all the other bad things that happened to us because of him, but I did not want you to risk your life. I know the General..."

"Very sincerely offered to shoot Buckmann, himself," Jeff interrupted, "Not to say anything about Buckmann being slated for the firing squad, but he..."

"I don't want to hear about it," she said, snuggling her face to his neck, her body shivering. "It scares me to death to even think about your fighting someone to the death. Going to another planet and maybe having to fight to protect scientists, or something like that, scares me, but this thing with Buckmann just terrified me. Jeff, please don't risk your life just to be ... macho. I..."

"Di, that's bullshit. I would never do that. This was different. This bastard just blatantly decided to exterminate my family to gain control over the Healer — over the money he could make from her. I couldn't let that go unanswered. If that's being macho, then so be it, but anyone who attacks my family will suffer the consequences, and those consequences will be swift — and brutal."

Arlene crashed through the door into the kitchen, her face flushed, Ann, Jennie and Melissa close on her heels. "Mom, you've got to see it. Dad gutted that asshole like a fish. He attacked Daddy before the match even started. It was over just like that," she said, snapping her fingers. "There was blood everywhere. I didn't know there was that much blood in someone. The whole place, everybody saluted Daddy, even the General. Wow, you've got to see it, Mom. You'll be so proud."

Diana buried her face in Jeff's neck. "Oh, shit," she hissed out. Jeff wasn't sure whether she was giggling, laughing, or crying.

Laura took Diana's hand and pulled her to her feet. "It's over. Our man is back. Help us fix supper, and get this off your mind."

-------

Jeff walked into the living room for an after-supper cup of coffee. Turning on the TV, he sat, unlaced his boots and slipped them off, pushed the recliner into a more comfortable position, took a first sip, and sighed. Now this is living,  he thought. He was only on the third station as he channel surfed when his younger wives and Kayla filed in carrying boxes, the twins and Whitney following with their arms full, also. The volume level quickly went up as they opened the boxes and began multiple discussions about where all the decorations would go, everyone seeming to talk at once as far as Jeff could determine.

Jennie and Melissa grabbed his recliner and pushed him out of the way, Jeff desperately trying to balance his coffee cup to keep from drenching himself with the hot liquid.

"We need a stepladder," Arlene said. "Make that two stepladders — Dad," she corrected, looking at him. Jeff put his coffee down and inwardly sighed.

Dave walked in, took one look and did an about face, but was caught by Jeff a few steps down the hall. "Just found my sub-slave," Jeff laughed as they walked toward the basement door.

"Sub-slave?"

"Yep. I'm a slave, and you've just been drafted by me. So you're a sub-slave. They need a couple stepladders."

"What do they need stepladders for, Boss-slave?"

"You don't think I'm fool enough to ask, do you? That would be tantamount to volunteering."

They didn't have to ask — or volunteer. Jeff, and Dave on another stepladder, wound one end of crepe streamers to the chandeliers and tossed the rolls down to the girls to pull the streamers out and attach to various things. It wasn't long until Diana, Helen, Laura, Caitlin, Joyce and Susan joined in.

As he continued with his assigned duties, he looked down at his women. It was hard to tell his older wives from the teenagers, both in looks and attitude. He watched a laughing Susan toss a roll of streamers up the ladder to Dave. My mother-in-law is changing,  Jeff thought. Oh, not just physically, although that too is very noticeable with Little One's enhancement as this already beautiful woman becomes younger, but her attitude is changing as well.

He grinned at her as she tossed him another roll, his eyes deliberately staying too long on her breasts. Her blush was instantaneous, and she quickly looked away. Arlene, having seen, shot him a quick thumbs up sign, then climbed the ladder behind him, ostensibly to help him attach one end of the streamer. Whispering in his ear as she worked, she said, "Meemi keeps looking at you. You really need to fuck her."

Jennie grabbed Susan and practically dragged her over to the helium cylinder where they began filling balloons and tying them off. Arlene looked down at them and smiled. Turning back to her father, she said, "Well?"

"Well, what?" he groused. "I have enough women now." He had almost said, "too many women," but caught himself before he dug that hole. Besides, he loved every one of them.

Arlene dropped all pretense of helping with the streamer, grabbed his face and kissed him, her tongue finding his. Pulling back after a moment, her nipples jutting out under the tight tee shirt, she grinned at him. "Just think, Dad. Three generations."

"Arlene, damnit, she's my mother-in-law..."

"Yep, my Meemi. I love her. That's the main reason I want her for a sister-wife. It's not fair for her to not have a man at all when we have a Prime."

Arlene pressed her breasts against him, her movement causing the ladder to shift under their weight and they almost fell. Recovering, "This is not the place for this conversation," Jeff laughed, the laughter coming out in spite of himself.

She rubbed her hand across his cock that was beginning to swell despite his concentrating to keep it from doing just that. "The girls will see," Jeff said as he tried to push her hand away without being too obvious about it.

Undeterred, Arlene grinned up at him. "You have given orgasms to every female in this room, although, I guess the only orgasms you gave Meemi were through kissing her. You have licked the twins' and Whitney's pussies and they have seen your cock..."

"Yes," Jeff whispered, "but having you do this is ... different. I don't want to embarrass them. I..."

"Go talk to Meemi. We all love you." With that, she was gone to help with the balloon filling.

The rest of the extended family came in. "How about moving the ladder over there," Kathy (Bill's second wife) said as Jeff came down. Evie and her sister-wives came in, followed soon by Frank and Margaret.

Bill and Jeff moved the ladder, and Bill took Jeff's place on the next chandelier.

Diana looked at him, and with meaning shifted her eyes to her mother who was now just standing and watching. Jeff looked back at his wife, who nodded ever so slightly. Going over to Susan, Jeff took her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. "Let's go for a walk."

"Jeff I want to..."

Gently pulling her with him, "We're not going far." As they approached the other end of the big living room, near the winding stairway, Jeff stopped, then gently turned her away from him, his body blocking anyone's view. Sliding his hands under her top, he reached the fastener on her bra, and undid it. "Hush," he said softly several times as she tried to protest. "The only women in this room wearing bras right now are you and the girls. Even Margaret is braless. You're among family. No use wearing armor, besides, I want to see the outline of those beautiful breasts."

Blushing, Susan did that thing women do and pulled her bra out of her short-sleeved top, wondering at herself even as she did it. Jeff took the bra and tossed it on a chair, then took her in his arms and kissed her.

Pulling back after a moment, although her voice was already unsteady, "I'm not comfortable with this. My daughter and granddaughter put you up to this, didn't they?" At Jeff's slight nod, she continued, "I can't get over your fucking..." Susan began yet again.

"Your granddaughter," he finished for her. "Yeah, I know," he sighed. "You've reminded me about a dozen times. And a few months ago, I would be the first to agree with you. So help me, the thought of having sex with my daughter had never even crossed my mind. But damnit, I didn't start this. I fought it, as a matter of fact. But like Diana and Arlene told you, I guess Di and I would be divorced by now if the two of them hadn't come up with their scheme." Jeff pulled her over to a love seat, sat, and tugged her onto his lap. Not something she particularly wanted, but she was there before she had time to object.

He kissed her ear and neck, holding her tight as goosebumps sprang up on her arms. She tried to pull away when it began to tickle. He quit just before her giggles turned to shrieks. Her nipples were sticking out further than Diana's, if that were possible, he decided.

Jeff's voice tightened for a moment. "I just came back from dealing with the man who instigated this attack on my family. I killed him in a 'fair' fight. The truth is that the fight wasn't fair in the slightest bit. Oh the rules were equal. Hell, he even had a bigger knife, but this ... thing. This ... Prime thing, seems to be growing." When Susan frowned, he quickly continued, "Oh, I don't mean it that way. It's just, whatever a Prime is, is becoming more ... dominant, I guess you could say, although dominant isn't the word I'm looking for. Maybe available would be a closer meaning. Anyway, the ship responds to me, and me alone. She won't allow anyone else to command her. My wives know where I am all the time, and Diana is beginning to be able to do more than that, even. Shit, if I had known how to interpret my 'feelings, ' this attack might never have happened. My wife, my first wife, my Queen is almost possessed with getting me a 'proper' harem — whatever the hell that means. Not that I don't love every one of my wives — for I certainly do. No, more than that, I love every last one of them so intensely it almost scares me."

Jeff unconsciously ran his hand gently down her arm as he thought back over the way each of his wives had come to him. They all get along. Get along; hell, they interact so well they're almost one. They have so much faith in me that it is beyond scary. I don't deserve this. I'm just a man. How can I be a Prime? What the fuck is a Prime? Every time I ask Little One, I get a deluge of information to sort through, and some of it I just can't believe. I'm a human male. I'm not from her race. How can she call me a Prime? Yet, my body and mind have changed — are still changing. I could have this woman in my arms panting for me with just a little push of pheromones. But my other Alphas can do that almost as well now that Little One has enhanced them. My Alphas. There I go again. Damnit, am I fucking crazy? But even the General has started calling me his Prime, although granted, it started out as a kind of joke with him. But it's already past being a joke.

His mind drifted on as Susan stared at his face, seeing the emotions play across it, easily divining that he was upset, knowing that something was troubling him a lot. She wanted to snuggle to him, and did before she could stop herself. Oh, shit. I'm falling in love with him, just like everybody else. I can't do this. I can't be just another of his ... harem. But I know he isn't using his pheromones on me now. I don't feel that way at all. After a moment, she heard herself sigh. I feel so safe in his arms.

Despite all the noise coming from the other end of the room, she drifted, faintly realizing that Jeff was very slowly rocking her, her braless breasts pushed against him, his hand gently stroking her back. The world faded away as she drifted off to sleep.



-------

Chapter 80

Sheriff Tate and his women came in, almost late, the Sheriff having gotten tied up at the department. Frank Wainwright grabbed Tate and they went to sit and talk.

Helen came in pushing a cart with the cake on it, sixteen candles adorning each end, tiny statues of twin teenage girls in the middle. Jeff's heart went out to the twins when, from their faces, he suspected this was their first time to have anything remotely resembling a birthday party, let alone cake, candles and presents. His baritone joined the extended family as everyone sang Happy Birthday to the accompaniment of Dave's twelve string guitar. Diana, standing beside her husband, sang harmony alto. He had heard her do this in church and when they sang on occasion at the retreat, but he had never heard her do it to the birthday song. To Jeff, it made the simple little song into something that sounded astonishingly good. I'm more amazed with this woman every day,  he thought, his pride plain on his face for all to see. The song ended with laughter from everyone, and the party was on.

The candles lit and blown out, Whitney served the twins, then Diana brought Jeff his piece of cake next. Nat looked around for her adopted grandmother who was standing behind the others. "Meemi, why are you standing way back there?"

Shortly, Nicki dragged Susan into the center of the festivities. Susan looked over, caught Jeff's eye and mouthed, "Thank you."

Jeff was certain he had nothing to do with the girls adopting Susan as their Meemi, but he was just as certain that was the basic thought behind the thank you. He was sure, however, that he was very, very pleased the girls had chosen her, though.

The twins were seated and Jeff's younger wives began bringing in presents. He watched Diana covertly wipe her eyes as Whitney proudly presented her presents for Nat and Nicki to open. Jeff realized that the three girls had lost their bras somewhere along the line. Whitney's presents to her "sisters" were matching negligées. The twins immediately jumped up and held the frilly, almost-transparent garments against their bodies, their eyes shifting to Jeff for approval. His smile and nod seemed to suddenly do something for them. The twins grabbed Whitney and hugged her, dancing around like girls half their age, their exuberance catching. The sound volume climbed in the big room as his younger wives got involved, too.

Jeff had felt his face flush when the twins had obviously looked at him for approval of their negligées. Damnit, I'm a grown man. Men don't blush. But he remembered seeing every one of his Alphas blush at one time or another. If I understand Little One correctly, the ability to blush is one aspect of a young and healthy body,  he thought.

Jeff felt Diana snuggle under his arm. Absently, having done it a thousand times, he put his arm around her and pulled her tightly to him as they stood there. He felt the side of her breast push against him; felt the sex she seemed to unconsciously project; felt his manhood respond. Consciously, he willed himself to stop swelling. It was a close thing.

Diana seemed to know what was happening, but might have misinterpreted the reason for his body's response. She let out a soft chuckle, "They love you, you know."

"Di, I..."

But Diana interrupted with, "Whitney was absolutely beyond herself when she realized she could shop for the twins."

"But you guys didn't go anywhere. Surely shopping on the net isn't that much fun."

"Yeah, we didn't really have time to go out, with everything that's been going on. But you're wrong about how much fun it can be to shop on the net — particularly for someone who has never done it much. Then she kept trying to search for bargains. After a while, Arlene and Ann had a talk with her. I think she's still leery about spending money on herself or her sisters, but she certainly had a good time picking out those gifts. Christmas should really be a wonderful experience for her — all three of them, for that matter. They've never had the experience of giving, for they had nothing to give. Other than their love for each other," she added quietly, her voice almost choking up.

They stood watching the twins open gifts for a while, then, "Oh, Jeff, I know we've talked about it a lot, and you and I thought we had a hard time after we married, but our problems were nothing compared to those three. I mean, watered-down soft drinks or mostly just water to drink — ever. God has been good to us, Husband. And you came back to me from that ... fight without a scratch. Jeff, damn you, I was scared to death," she hissed out, smacking him in the side.

Jeff looked down at the tears in her eyes. "I didn't set out to do what happened..."

"Oh, bullshit. You knew damn well you were going to kill that son-of-a-bitch when you left here," she hissed out, trying to keep her voice down. "You might not have known just how you were going to do it, but you knew he was going to die. He messed with a Prime's family. I could feel it when you left. Jeff, I could feel it. I knew you were going to kill him. I was so ... damn ... scared. Please, don't ever do that to me again."

Jeff turned fully to her, taking her face in his hands and wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "I'm sorry, Di. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I..."

"Oh, hush," she choked out. "Go hug those two and tell them happy birthday."

Jeff kissed her forehead and turned to go. "Honey," she said, reaching to take his arm for a second. "Tell them you love them — all three of them. There isn't anybody here but family, so kiss the girls like you mean it. Doing it in front of everyone will send a message that you really love them."

-------

The party roared on, at least it felt that way to Jeff. Is that music? he mused. I must be getting old. As he sat back about halfway down the living room and watched, he idly wondered if he could sneak down to the range and get his earplugs, but decided his younger wives would retaliate, probably in a way he wouldn't like. He knew they were fucking with him, though. He had seen Ann watching him just before they all squealed. Being an Alpha with sensitive hearing had its drawbacks, he decided.

Quinton Tate walked up and handed Jeff a cup of punch, then sat with a sigh. The Sheriff raised his cup a little as he looked over at Jeff, "With everything that's been going on, I might be tempted to spice this up a bit, but then again, I've never been much of a drinker, just a beer after cutting grass in summer, shoveling snow in winter, or working on the house, something like that. The way things are at work these days, I wouldn't even consider that single beer, though. Might get called in because something happened, or the Captain might call saying we're too short on personnel. We have random drug tests, and my name is on the list just like everyone else's, plus if anyone is injured, they have to be tested. Any alcohol in their blood and they're looking for a job. Wouldn't do for my own rule to bite me in the ass," he finished, chuckling, as he took a sip of the punch.

Jeff saluted with his cup and took a sip, also. "Well, I've about come to the conclusion that whatever Little One has done to enhance us doesn't particularly like alcohol. Margaret wanted me to taste her wine a while back. It tasted vile. I got to wondering and opened a beer. One sip and I almost puked. Dave tried to drink a beer a couple weeks ago with the same basic result. He said he tried three different brands and they all tasted foul. He drinks about as much as you described, so I guess the two of us aren't a very good study, but accurate study or not, I don't think we're going to be consuming any alcohol in the near future. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Frank and Margaret drinking any wine lately. Wonder if it has started to affect them, too?"

Tate sat back and crossed his legs, returning waves from Rachel and Cindy (Tate's nieces).

Jeff continued with, "I know that some of the airlines allow their pilots to have a small amount of alcohol in their blood. I guess about the equal of two beers, but it would scare the crap out of me to smell beer on the pilot's breath as he walked down the aisle past me. And a member of a combat team going off-world with booze on his breath — well, I doubt if the person in charge would have to do anything other than see that the offender got medical treatment for his 'mysterious' injuries after his buddies beat the shit out of him."

Before Tate could respond, Jeff nodded toward Rachel and Cindy. "Those young ladies fit in just fine here. And if I'm not badly mistaken, they project — well let's just say — a sense of possession when they look at you..."

Tate grinned over at the Prime. "Now I'd just about bet that's your ... uh, subtle way of asking me if I'm fucking them, right?"

Caught, Jeff almost shot out a denial, but then grinned. "I didn't mean it quite that bluntly, but yes."

Tate took another sip of his punch, wondering aloud what they had put in it. "This stuff actually tastes good," he finished, delaying.

Jeff took another sip of his punch, then grinning, "No telling. I wonder if they would be able to duplicate it. Seems to me that they just dump some of everything into the mix." Jeff nodded toward the others. "Your women are the only ones wearing bras," he inserted, just to see what Tate would say.

"Not around the house. I forbade it. They only wear them when we go out. And no, I'm not fucking my nieces. And just how many women are in your bed now?"

Startling Tate, Jeff answered him. "All but Susan and the three new girls. And if Diana has her way, they'll join us soon."

Tate shifted uncomfortably, "I've licked them and they've gone down on me, but that's the extent of it." Then, "Those twins of yours sure are getting one hell of a lot of sexy sleepwear for girls who aren't going to show it off," he commented, deadpan.

The men sat quiet for a time, just watching. "Why don't you give up and make love to your nieces? It's going to happen sooner or later. You're an Alpha. No way can you back off after going as far as you have. They're hooked."

Tate didn't answer immediately, the two continuing to watch the activities. "I love them. Love them more than just as my nieces — a lot more — but damnit, I'm the fucking Sheriff. I enforce the laws of this state, and the last time I looked..."

"When exactly was the last time you've enforced any incest laws, or anything to do with morality? And besides, they're your wife's sister's daughters. There's no blood kin."

"Well..."

"Unless there's a minor child involved or something like that, I'll bet you've never done it."

"Ah, fuck, Jeff. My wife and my sister-in-law have ridden that horse to death. They..."

"So your wife and the girls' mother are okay with it, but you keep holding back because of your job, right? It's not because you don't love them, or they don't love you, right? Diana and I have talked about antiquated laws before. I'll bet there are a lot of those antiquated laws still on the books. I remember reading about some of them. I think it was a small town in Alabama where they still had an ordinance on the books about spitting on the sidewalk. I think there was a town in Texas like that, too. Someplace else had an ordinance about leaving a horse unattended. People got a big laugh out of those old laws, but a hundred years ago, laws like those made sense. There were board sidewalks in the towns and chewing tobacco was prevalent among a lot of men during that time. Around stores or where there were seats around sidewalks for people to sit, the sidewalks became slimy with brown spittle; thus the ordinance."

Tate turned more to face Jeff. "We've talked about this before. Where're you going with this?"

"You know exactly where I'm going with this. The laws still haven't been changed about a man only having one wife, but you know damn well that there are a lot of guys out there who live with more than one woman. Same-sex marriages are now legal in several states. Not much of a stretch to think about multiple wives becoming legal. Do you think the DA would even take a bigamy case, especially a high profile one?"

Tate chuckled. "DAs only take cases they think they can win, particularly if they intend to be the actual prosecutor. Slam dunk, or they tell us to get more evidence. But remember, the DA is a politician. If he thought prosecuting the Sheriff for bigamy or for incest would be a sure thing that would put the DA back in office at the next election, he might just do it. And that applies to our DA who has been appointed by the governor in the interim, too."

"Bullshit," Jeff said. "Bullshit. It would be political suicide for the DA, appointee or not. You don't even have anyone running against you. Everybody has given it up as a lost cause. You could parade half a dozen wives, or at least women you were openly living with, and there wouldn't be a thing said. Hell, you would probably get the rest of the women's votes. If...  there are any who wouldn't vote for you now," he finished, chuckling. "And besides all that, I think it would be hard to convince a jury it was an actual marriage if you don't get a license and make it a legal marriage with the state. So you stand up with friends and pledge your love for each other, and the girls wear rings; I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Both men again sat quiet for a minute or so, then Tate sighed, "I love those girls. I don't want to fuck up their lives. They're both virgins. What if they get tired of me and want someone their own age? Shit," he finished, trying to take a sip from an empty cup and barely noticing.

Jeff saw Arlene looking at him, pointed to his cup, then to the Sheriff. A moment later she was walking toward them with two cups of punch, a bounce and sway to her breasts to match her mother's.

Amazing,  Jeff thought. They seem to grow up knowing how to walk to make their tits bounce without it seeming contrived. Of course, I'm glad,  he mused.

Arlene did a little curtsy and made a crack about the "Oh, so honored" males, then giggling, started to walk off. Quickly turning back as if she had just remembered it, she asked, "Sheriff, did Dad tell you about gutting the bastard who sent those men to kill us?"

Tate almost sputtered into his punch. "Uh, nooo," he said drawing the word out, "he didn't."

"There's a DVD in the player in the theater. Sound quality is just as good as the video quality. You can hear the knife cutting through his body. Don't miss it. Stop by the theater before you go."

The men sat quietly for a time watching the girls cutting up, then something happened and Margaret chased Frank around the table with a piece of the birthday cake in her hand. He finally let her catch him and they both were soon covered in cake.

"Gutted?" Tate asked, deadpan.

Jeff took a drink of punch. "Combat knife. Sharp."

"Where did this happen?"

"Base."

They sat for a time, then Tate said, "Do you suppose there's enough of that cake left so we can have another piece?"

"I think so. Looks like it from here."

"Think they're going to bring us another piece?"

"Don't think so. Looks like we're going to have to walk over there," Jeff said, covertly putting down his punch.

They sat for a while. "Think we should?" Tate said, looking intently at what was left of the cake. "Dave just got another piece."

"Race you," Jeff said as he launched himself out of the chair and took off while Tate was trying to put his drink down and get to his feet.

-------

Alesha and Jesse came hurrying in. She dropped her purse in a chair and herded Jesse, who was the present bearer, toward Nat and Nicki. "We both had to work over, but I refused to work another double today," she apologized. "Happy birthday you two."

A little later, Jesse, Jeff and the Alphas were sitting together. Jeff looked over at the deputy. "Look a little whipped, my friend."

Jesse sighed. "Sorry about coming to the party in my uniform. I haven't been home yet. I was supposed to get off at three, since I worked a double yesterday, but the evening shift commander asked me to work over a while. First call was a wreck on Canyon Road, well, more precisely about two hundred feet down a slope too steep to stand on, beside Canyon Road. Took two hours to get the equipment there and get it set up to hold the car to keep it from tumbling into the canyon while the rescue unit cut the people out of the car, then another hour of standing in the road and directing traffic while the wreckers got the car out.

"As I was on the way back to headquarters to put my vehicle up, Herb Jackson came home and found some guy pumping his wife again. He beat the shit out of the both of them, then put a pistol to his head and threatened to kill himself. Damn gun wasn't even loaded. And everyone there knew that the guy would never press charges against Herb. Not after an ass whipping like that one. Herb would get out of jail sooner or later, and well, you know," he chuckled. "I don't know why those two stay together. This is the third time I can remember him catching her. Judge will give him some time for domestic violence, and she will be there every Sunday to bring him cigarettes — like always — promising she'll never be unfaithful again. Some people live strange lives," he finished, chuckling.

Jesse looked over at the Sheriff. "Anyway, I should have a great payday this time, if we're still getting paid for overtime."

Tate smiled that not-quite smile that said a lot. "Oh, I think I raised enough stink that our finances are going to keep being better for a while yet. You can count on the overtime pay for the time being."

"Saving up for something?" Dave asked, with a grin.

Jesse blushed a little. "Both of us are saving every cent we can. She hasn't exactly said she'll marry me. She's giving me 'time' to change my mind. As if that will happen," he chuckled. "I've found my woman. I'll wear her down, yet."

"We would be flattered if you would have your wedding here," Jeff said.

"We just want a small..."

"Small or large, we have everything you need right here. No use buying it or renting it. Di has a room crammed with decorations and stuff..."

"And there will be more shortly," Wainwright sighed. "The wedding planner will be here tomorrow and I know damn well that she and Margaret have been buying things for weeks."

Jesse huffed out a breath. "It scares me to death. I've had a tux on exactly twice in my life..."

"I have a nice suit that I usually wind up in," Jeff said. "Although, I've already been fitted for a tux for Frank's wedding," he laughed.

"We'll look like a bunch of penguins," Dave commented, his voice less than enthusiastic.

"Anyway," Jeff said, "you know we'll all be at your wedding. So we would be pleased if you would have it here."

"It's up to Alesha. And remember, she hasn't actually said yes, yet. But I can't think of a prettier place in the state to have a wedding."

-------

It was close to midnight; the party long over. Ever since Arlene had come out of the healing tank, Jeff had kept an eye on her. Her body had been healed, but her mind had taken a hit, too. At times, she had been a little too jovial, sometimes a little too playful. He hoped she would let her emotions out before they had time to fester. "I love you, Baby. We all do," Jeff whispered into Arlene's ear as she sat in his lap in the bedroom. He had emphasized his words, and she was no dummy.

"I'm fine, Dad. I really am. Little One and the Ship saved me. It's just that ... dying is..."

"Sweetie, you didn't die. You just came close."

Arlene tried to hold back a sob, violently shaking her head, her hair flowing out into a halo as she did. Shuddering, she clung to her father. "I did die," she said, her voice muffled as she pressed her face into his shoulder. "I looked down and saw myself on the kitchen floor. You put Little One on me. I could see the puddle of blood getting bigger as it came from under my back. Daddy, I was floating right above. I saw and heard everything."

Jeff knew how smart his daughter was: genius level or just below. He didn't want to sound as if he were talking down to her. "Look, Baby, I know that you know all this, probably better than I do..."

"Yeah, right," she got out between gulps of air, even managing the sarcasm inflection.

"I haven't even told you what I'm talking about," he teased. Then, "Just to remind you, there are two types of death. First, there's clinical death, where the heart and breathing stops. Within the first five or six minutes, we can come back from that, well, at least under certain conditions; thus the use of CPR. After that, our brain will die from lack of oxygen, and we go into biological death. No one can come back from that. Near death experiences..."

"Bullshit, Daddy," she said, leaning back so she could look him in the eyes. "I died. I don't want to hear about 'near death' experiences. I was floating right above you, seeing and listening to everything that was going on. I was even there as you ran across the lot with me in your arms. I saw everything. I saw my sister-wives fighting. I watched a stream of empties arc out of Kayla's and Ann's guns. I saw all of them shooting. I was so proud of them, and so scared for them. I saw the ship. Then I was suddenly in that ... tunnel. It wasn't really a tunnel, I guess. I just don't have a word that describes it, but it was beautiful. Then the women I told you about. And yeah, I think they were Little One and the Ship, but I was dead. Nothing anyone can say will ever convince me otherwise."

She gripped Jeff's shoulder, Jeff feeling her nails even through his shirt. "I just... can't get it off my mind. I've tried hard, too. It keeps coming back. I really thought I could beat him. I knew I could. Oh, I was prepared to die ... I thought. But I wasn't. He shot me. I felt the bullet go through my body. It hurt a lot. Then I couldn't breathe. I tried to tell you something when you picked me up, but I couldn't..."

The sobs started again, this time in earnest as he hugged her to him, and the sobs went on for a long time. Jeff held her, now just gently stroking her back, rocking her in his arms, his tears mixing with hers, all his wives crying too, as they tried to pet and console her.

Damn that son-of-a-bitch, Jeff thought as he held his daughter. I wish I could kill that bastard again. How could someone I trusted decide to have my whole family killed? I reported to Buckmann for years. He knew everything about me, then he tried to use that knowledge to steal Little One and to get at my family. Damn that son-of-a-bitch.

The crying slowly stopped, save for an occasional hiccup. "Make love to me," she eventually whispered. He stood with her in his arms. On the bed, he slowly removed her negligée, his lips and hands caressing her as he tried with all his being to project his love for her. The others slid quietly into bed, all of them having cried as Arlene did. No one else took their turn this night, but just lay quietly holding each other and the two of them after Jeff finished making love to Arlene. Sleep came even as Jeff's mind relived, over and over, the look on Buckmann's face as the knife tore through his guts.

Damn you,  he thought to Buckmann. I should have stayed and thrown your worthless carcass in the incinerator myself.

-------

Laura lay snuggled to Diana's side. The Queen pressed a fingertip to Laura's cheek and she was instantly awake. She calls herself my handmaiden, Diana thought as she looked down at her lifelong friend. I love her so much. "Laura," Diana whispered in her ear. "Come go with me, please."

Carefully, the women worked their way out of the big bed that the men had so thoughtfully reassembled in their old suite now that everything was cleaned up. In the bathroom, they slipped on short robes without making a sound. Barefooted, they crept out of the bedroom, then on through the sitting room into the hallway.

Finally, no longer worried about waking anyone, Laura asked, "What are we doing? Is something wrong?"

"I've got to see that video."

"What video?" Then, "Oh."

"You didn't watch it, did you?" Diana asked as they padded down the hall.

"No ... but I want to ... I think. The girls watched it a bunch of times according to Ann."

"The girls?" Diana said.

"Oh, you know who I mean. Our girls, not the new girls." Then chuckling, "Crap, we called them 'the girls' for so long, then the others came along. Jeff has started calling them his 'younger wives, ' to keep things straight, but Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa are still the girls to me."

Diana put her arm around her friend and sister-wife. "Well, if I can get my husband off his royal ass and get him to marry Nat, Nicki and Whitney, we can call the whole bunch of them the girls."

"I know," Laura said, fighting back a giggle for some reason, "but they've only been here a little while. Maybe they need to get used to us before they suddenly become wives."

Diana laughed back at her. "And who do you suppose they were thinking about tonight when they played with themselves before they went to sleep, huh?"

"Brad Pitt maybe," Laura laughed.

"Yeah, right," Diana returned. "If that was Brad Pitt lying beside us a few minutes ago, that is. And you can bet that sweet ass of yours they were wishing our husband was in their bed and they had rings on their fingers."

"It didn't take Kayla long to be one of us."

Diana smiled at Laura. "Kayla was one of us the instant she walked into our home. She just didn't realize it then. That's another marriage we need to take care of, but first we have to get Margaret and Frank's wedding done."

-------

Diana and Laura sat huddled together on one of the padded benches in the very front of the theater. They had just watched the ... match for the third time, which means that they had seen the killing strike several more times than that, since someone at the base had done a quick job of merging views from several cameras so the fight was actually shown four times each time the video ran.

"Arlene was right," Laura quietly said. "You can hear the knife going through Buckmann. I don't think I'll ever forget that sound."

"What about Buckmann's wrist? Did you see it that time?"

"Yeah, I think it was dangling, kind of, as he fell. I believe you're right about Jeff breaking it when Buckmann lunged with the knife. But it was so fast I couldn't really be positive. But I did see Kayla. The look on her face; she put her hand on her gun like you said. She was going to kill Buckmann. No doubt about it. Odd though, only Buckmann's guards had weapons, yet the General apparently let Kayla keep hers and stand just outside the ring. It's almost as if..."

Diana stared at her handmaiden. "He expected her to kill Buckmann if something went wrong in the ring. I guess he was serious about Kayla being Jeff's last resort. She's the last one a threat would have to get past if Jeff is attacked. He wants her to marry Jeff so she will always be near him."

The women sat for a time, shoulder-to-shoulder, their arms around each other. Finally, Laura asked into the quiet, "Did you ever suspect Jeff was into anything like this?"

Diana hesitated, then with a soft sigh, "When he was in the military, he would be gone for periods of time — like we've talked about before — then return with scars, or wounds almost healed. 'Training injuries, ' was all he would say about them. So yeah, I knew something was going on, something very intense. But off-world missions? I didn't have a clue.

"Laura, I was looking at an article on the net about the Hubble telescope. There were numerous pictures of other galaxies. Galaxies now. There was also a beautiful picture of the Ant's Nebula more than 3000 light years away. Another picture of a galaxy 28 million light years away. And there are so many galaxies that they're practically innumerable. And we act like our little insignificant planet from our tiny galaxy — in comparison — matters."

After a bit, "How many civilizations must be out there? How many worlds teaming with life of some kind? Yet, most people are adamant that extraterrestrial life doesn't exist. You will be labeled a nut if you talk about life on other planets ... And our husband has been there."



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Chapter 81

Jeff pushed the door of the theater open with his foot and walked in holding three go-cups of coffee in a cluster in front of him. "And what are my two senior wives doing in here at this time of the morning?" he asked in a teasing voice as Laura jumped up to help him with the coffee.

"Might have known you would have coffee," Diana said, refusing to verbally answer about the reason they were in the theater, but her blush answered for her, anyway.

"Thought you didn't want to see that thing," he said as he sat between his wives.

Diana took a sip of her coffee. "This always tastes better when you fix it."

Laura chuckled. "Hah. She's just building up your ego so you'll fix her coffee more often."

"Well, if it does actually taste better when I fix it for you, it's probably because I put a little more cream in it than you do," he said with a fake leer.

He laughed a little and hugged them, knowing the coffee didn't taste any better, but it made him feel good about it, anyway. "We're going to have to stop meeting like this," he said after taking a sip. "Haven't you two heard of sleeping in that nice bed of ours? We even have brand-new carpet on the floors. But seriously, Di, I didn't expect you to get up in the middle of the night to watch this thing," he finished as he nodded toward the DVD player.

"Moth to a flame, I guess," his Queen said. "I couldn't get it off my mind. I just gave up and dragged Laura down here with me." Diana took another sip of her coffee, then after a second's hesitation, spun toward her husband. "Damnit Jeff, he could have killed you. And where did he get off using that big knife, anyway? He was quick. I wouldn't have had time to even move, yet you broke his wrist and ... killed him. He didn't go by the rules..."

Jeff chuckled. "There were no rules, just a command to engage, and he didn't wait for that. I had watched him train our new people, and I even had an advanced class under him. I figured he wouldn't wait for the command to start, so I was ready."

"You didn't look ready," Laura injected. "You just seemed to be standing there, relaxed. The next instant, he was lying on the floor."

Jeff sat quiet for a moment. "He had an awful lot of training and he was fast. But I just used his anger against him. It was obvious in the cell when he challenged me that he would do anything to kill me. I guess he just figured a quick strike before the fight officially started would either kill me or weaken and slow me down so he could more easily kill me later. A certain amount of anger in a fight can be a good thing, but too much can change things in the other direction. He knew he was dead, anyway. The General had already sentenced him to death. Buckmann let his anger and greed destroy his career and subsequently, his life. If the General had forbidden the fight, I would have just volunteered to be on the firing squad. I was going to kill the bastard one way or the other."

They sipped their coffee for a time, then Laura looked up at him, "We prayed for you. Arlene led us in a chain prayer the way she did for Joyce. Your Queen was beside herself with worry. Please don't do anything like that again."

When Jeff started to respond, Laura interrupted with a last comment, "I know you feel you had to do it. I guess it's a man thing. But what you do affects us, and that really, really scared us."

"I'm sorry," Jeff sighed. "I just could not let anyone get away with attacking my family. I had to send a message."

Laura ran the short video once more — the first time Jeff had seen it, then they finished their coffee while talking about the coming wedding. Finally, "You ladies ready to go back to bed? Five-thirty is going to come early."

"No," Laura said, standing to pull Jeff's shirt up and eventually off. "I've been thinking about using this backless bench for a while now. I've seen something like this on one of the sex toy websites." By then, Diana was working his pants off.

Jeff realized she was right. If the woman lay on her back with her rear close to the end of the bench, she was a perfect height for him to sit or kneel and have lunch — pussy lunch. They staggered back to bed an hour later. As Arlene snuggled up to him, she sniffed and said, "Your face smells like pussy." With a little chuckle, she was again asleep.

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6:00 A.M. WEDNESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 16

They had just had their morning blessing for their food when Jeff asked, "The guys not coming up for breakfast this morning?"

Diana and Dave started to answer at the same time. Diana nodded to him, and Dave said, "Your wives sent down breakfast food last night. One of the guys said he could cook and wanted to try out the lodge kitchen."

"I thought as much," Jeff answered. "The General said he would have a supply helicopter in here this morning, and the security detail is also supposed to get here later today."

Dave cleared his throat, "Uh, Jeff, I've made some decisions — well, the security detail lieutenant and I did. As you know, he came in yesterday with the helicopters. Anyway, we're getting together this morning so he can go over some more of his needs and recommendations with me."

Dave took a bite of eggs, then looked back at his Prime. "Look, I know we've had a discussion a while back about security. You were adamant about not putting a guard on the bottom of the drive, because of his/her safety. If someone really wants up here, they just drive up, smile, and when the guard walks up to the window of the car, they just shoot him and drive on. But with what's happened..."

"Things have changed," Jeff offered, his voice quiet.

"Uh, yeah. And we're not talking about doing this with some rent-a-cop outfit, either. Your guys are professionals — combat professionals. And yeah, I know that the group that's coming today isn't your team, and the part of your team that is still here will be going back to the base shortly, but still, this Lieutenant Mayfield tells me that the General has given orders that anyone assigned to your security must be a certified combat specialist. Jeff, Whitworth is serious about this. Even Lieutenant Mayfield is impressed with the equipment the General is going to send. And the security team here will be augmented by people back at the base, satellite coverage, and data base usage. Stuff like that. Jeff, I don't know if you realize it or not, but Whitworth is planning to move in some heavy stuff. When he's done, this place won't be a pushover for anything. He's damn serious about your security. Damn serious."

"Yeah, we discussed it some, but we didn't have time to go into detail. But he made some concessions to me about some other things, and I gave him more or less free rein about security here, as long as he keeps most of it concealed."

Dave downed half a big glass of orange juice. "Man that's good," then continuing with their conversation, "One of the first things we did after moving the downed tree and that boulder was to expand the helipad so the big copters could set down easily at the lodge. Of course, we can't pour concrete until spring — well, not without a lot of hassle, anyway — but what we have will work. Whitworth is expediting a guardhouse for the sentry, and is sending one of those portable barriers to go at the foot of the drive. The arm works with a remote that the guard can activate from his belt. The gate guard's house is coming in via truck. Hell, the thing looks sharp as can be, at least the picture of it does. We're going to put an outside on it that will match the retreat, and armor the inside of it so the guard isn't a sitting duck. He's also going to have an escape hatch in the floor in case the shit hits the fan for real. He'll also have backup hidden just past the first turn on up the road toward the lodge. They can be there in less than a minute with a lot of firepower.

"As soon as the wedding is behind us, we'll put in a permanent barrier bar, and two separate real barriers that the guard can pop up with a press of a button from his belt. The first barrier past the bar is one of those evil looking things that have eighteen inch curved spikes to destroy the tires and impale a vehicle. The second barrier on up the drive is a four foot height steel wall that not only will stop a loaded dump truck running sixty miles an hour, but the wall also has something like claymore mines built into it. We're talking major construction here, but when it's done, nothing, and I mean nothing that guard doesn't want to come up that driveway will, and ... those barriers will be tied to systems that monitor the guard's vitals. Vitals start to go down and the barriers will come up and arm themselves."

Eating and conversations at the table had come to a gradual halt as everyone picked up on what Dave was saying. Now, save Frank and Margaret, everyone seemed to be a bit stunned.

Jeff glanced over at Wainwright, "You don't seem surprised at this."

Frank chuckled a little, glanced at Margaret, then back at Jeff. "Well, as you know ... we, uh, do a little business with the General. That final barrier was one of our inventions — well, not an invention exactly. Just a modification to increase its ability to do its job, you might say."

"In other words, you put teeth in it," Jeff laughed.

"And ... we came up with a way to make it stronger. It will give a tank serious pause," Wainwright finished.

Dave hesitated, then, "Boss, I may have overstepped..."

Jeff waved a forkful of scrambled eggs negligently at him. "No. You simply did your job, and did it well. Both you and Evie, for I know she was in this, too. You're my project manager and she's your assistant. I'm the one remiss by not allowing you to set up a security checkpoint to start with like you wanted. I just didn't want to endanger a guard at the bottom of that driveway. It still concerns me. He's vulnerable. Way too vulnerable to suit my tastes. But I guess I have no choice in this if I'm to protect my family. But what about the wedding? To be plain about it, a lot of these people coming in are rich, right Frank?"

Wainwright put his fork down and looked at Margaret, who nodded to him. Turning back to Jeff, "Most are," Frank said. "And some of them can be a little... obtuse from time to time because of their money, but generally they're all good people. Margaret and I discussed this yesterday afternoon. Weather permitting, the majority of them will arrive on the copters, but some will come by land vehicle, and thus, up the driveway. We know at least one member of every family very well, but may not know the spouse nearly as well. A couple are bringing along grown kids who will eventually take over the family's company. But we will be able to at least recognize everyone."

"Uh, Frank, the Lieutenant says everybody coming off a copter will be scanned..." Dave broke in.

"After what's happened, Margaret and I expected that. We've sent out an e-mail to everyone we invited. We didn't mince any words. We told them we sincerely wanted them to attend our wedding, but since there had been a serious incident involving the Matthews family, everyone coming to the retreat, including our guests, must enter the facility through scanning equipment. This includes luggage as well. If they don't wish to accept the use of the scanners, the alternative is to not come to the wedding. We're going to have a handout ready for everyone to read that will reiterate this before they board the helicopters at the airport. Anyone who doesn't agree will be allowed to stay in a nice suite in town at our expense until they can arrange transportation home — at their own expense."

"Frank, I don't want this to interfere..."

"Remember, a lot of these people are being invited because of business relationships between their companies and ours. True friends won't bitch about being scanned for weapons, and so forth. The others, at worst, will cost me a little money from loss of business. Screw them if they do. Margaret and I are not worried about it, and neither should you be."

"We're together on this one hundred percent," Margaret added, "so like Frank just said, no use you worrying about it."

"I appreciate you guys," Jeff said. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Well, for one thing, you would probably have sold your radar to some other company for more money," Frank laughed. "But seriously, Jeff, and the rest of you," he said, looking around, "we don't want our wedding to be a burden on you. We're worried enough about you guys pretending to be staff. What if..."

"My daughter has a run-in with one of the guests," Jeff injected, grinning. "I can't very well bring out the Healer to heal their broken bones."

Arlene stuck her tongue out at him.

Everyone laughed, but Jeff was more than a little serious, and he knew that Arlene was not the only one who might violently retaliate toward unwanted physical attention. Helen could take care of herself, and very well, indeed, to put it mildly, not to mention Kayla. Helen had been giving all his wives martial arts lessons, almost daily. He could just envision one of them throwing some old rich fart over a shoulder and breaking his back. It was one thing to have one very good looking and sexy woman in the house, but there was a profusion of them here. Even with the discipline of his team, he had still seen their eyes occasionally stray toward his wives as they walked past. I should have put my foot down about all of my wives pretending to be staff. Then in a total reversal about his worrying about one of his wives hurting someone, not even noticing the incongruity, If some asshole gropes one of my women, there is going to be an ass stomping, and it won't be coming from one of my wives.

HELICOPTER APPROACHING ... CORRECTION, TWO HELICOPTERS APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH, the computer announced.

The phone rang. "Matthews residence, Kayla speaking," she said as she put the phone on speaker.

The voice identified herself and the pilot of the second helicopter, also. "Permission to land at the ski resort."

At a nod from Jeff, "Permission granted," Kayla announced.

"Something else we're going to have to deal with," Jeff said when Kayla hung up.

"Security will take care of it shortly," Dave said. "They will okay the aircraft or not, and notify us. One day soon, that permission to land will be a very serious thing. And once the installations are complete and the pilots are told what is tracking them, they will be very, very serious about obtaining that permission, too.

"Best I can tell, your General has lit a fire under the security lieutenant's ass. He said the General told him, quote, he didn't give a rat's ass what it cost as long as you and your family were safe, end quote."

"Ah, crap," Jeff fretted, "this is going to turn into a ... three ring circus," he said, amending a much cruder statement at the last moment.

"I don't think so, Boss. From what the Lieutenant said, shouldn't be anything showing but a very nice looking gate guardhouse and a 'security guard' in a very spiffy uniform. We're far enough away from any neighbors, and with the mountains, people shouldn't even notice the copters coming in and out, and even those will be setting down at the ski lodge, unless it is our copters coming in here."

Kayla finally got a chance and spoke up. "We don't need to let our guard down now that the attack is over. It's easy to relax vigilance after the emergency is over, and that makes us even more vulnerable."

Diana looked up from cutting a piece of her pancake, topped with strawberries and whipped cream, "Oh, crap. Do you think there really is a possibility of another attack?"

Jeff let out a sigh. "There's still the politician the General talked about. And from Buckmann's confession, this politician is really high level and probably hard to get to," he said, deliberately leaving things vague. "I have no idea how the General is going to take care of him, but Whitworth says it's in the works. But ... Kayla is right. This politician could have a way to find out what's happened here, and might very well be desperate. If he doesn't know he's already been outed, he might try to make sure we don't talk to anyone. Just as terrorists often set off a bomb, then a second one when the rescuers arrive, we could be hit again, maybe a lot more openly this time."

Diana's face lost a lot of its color. "And we're going to have a great many people here for the wedding who we don't know, and a lot of deliveries as well..."

"But," Jeff broke in, emphasizing the word, "we have professionals who have some very sophisticated equipment at their disposal. And according to General Whitworth, before the day is out, there will be a lot more of that equipment here, and the personnel to operate it. We just continue to be careful and also continue to be suspicious of everything and everyone. Frank and Margaret are here until Saturday. The two of them will recognize and okay all the visitors and the wedding planner.

"There will be positive identification of everyone who comes here from now on, with background checks to begin as soon as possible. A log will be kept on everyone who comes here for any reason. All this information and more will go into permanent databases which will be constantly scanned for suspicious patterns so we can spot trouble before it happens. That would have stopped Buckmann and his confederate."

"She has staff coming with her," Margaret fretted. "Only one person, though, I think."

"I'll get her aside so that we know she can talk freely, then ask her about the person she brings with her. And I'll do it before they enter the building. That way she'll be free to talk in case this person had a gun on her or something," Kayla said in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Sounds good," Jeff interjected. Then after a few moments, "We'll spend some time on the range early tonight. That includes you two," he said as he turned to Frank and Margaret. Frank nodded. "Bill?"

"We'll be there," the pilot answered.

"Us too," Dave said before Jeff could ask.

"Good, I'll draft some help to load up a bunch of MP-5 magazines. I want everyone to get thoroughly familiar with firing automatic weapons. Better to be safe than sorry."

A few minutes later, Dave got Jeff aside. "Uh, Jeff, just to remind you, I was a sniper in the military. A rifle is my weapon, but I've fired automatic weapons..."

"Good," Jeff broke in, "then you can help me charge magazines as they empty them."

-------

Later, Jeff pulled into the parking lot of the ski lodge. He had followed two large trucks loaded with lumber as they turned in. There was a dramatic change since the last time he was here, he thought as he surveyed the activity. He stopped and waited as the trucks lumbered through the lot, then at Evie's direction, the one with the forklift hanging on the back, turned around and backed toward the end of the ski lodge where the tree had been.

Jeff parked on the bottom of the lot out of the way and walked over to Evie. "It looks..."

"Hard hat area," she said, pointing to a sign and shoving a hat into his hands.

"But I'm not standing under anything."

"If we knew when we were going to get hit in the head with something, we wouldn't come to work that day," she said grinning at him. "Hard hats apply to the boss, too."

The pixie standing there in her construction outfit, high-top work shoes and hard hat, with "Evie" stenciled above her left breast as well as across the front of her helmet, nevertheless, meant business. "Yes, Ma'am," he politely said, putting the hat on.

Korey walked past, jumped on the step on the second truck and talked to the driver for a second. Shortly that truck was also backing toward the end of the building with its backup siren beeping loudly.

With a crash and clatter, the forklift on the back of the first truck unhooked and backed away, its own backup horn intermittently blaring to add to the construction racket. The dull roar of a diesel engine running an industrial-size air compressor added to the noise. A man on the roof yelled down instructions to someone on the ground as others assembled a metal scaffolding near the carnage the tree and boulder had left behind them. The tree had been pushed out of the way, cut into manageable sections, and was being loaded onto trucks, the roar of the crane's engine adding to the din.

"Where's the boulder?" Jeff said, trying to talk over the noise as he looked around.

"Pushed it into a ravine. One of the dozers is covering it and smoothing the area out as we speak."

"Well, I didn't come down to get in the way; I just need to speak with Lieutenant Mayfield for a minute."

"He's set up in an office/command post down the hallway to the left as you go in the main entrance. Used to be one of the conference rooms. You can't miss it."

Jeff turned back to Evie for a second. "Uh, it's cold out here..."

"Jeff, we've done this for a living for years. I'm dressed warmly. I'm just helping Korey get things organized. Dave is inside the building working with the electricians." She grabbed his face and pulled him down to kiss his cheek. "But I do appreciate your worrying about me."

He hugged her and headed for the front door.

-------

Entering the main door, Jeff turned to the right and looked down the wide hallway in the direction of the carnage the tree and boulder had caused. Voices raised to be heard over the scream of circular saws and the loud "whap" of nail guns changed his mind about checking out the construction efforts. Hell, they don't need me getting in the way, he thought as he reversed course and went down the hall on the left.

Midway down the hall, a hand-lettered sign announced that the room was the office of Lieutenant Terrance Mayfield. Jeff rapped twice on the facing of the open door and entered. The young man sitting at the head of a conference table surrounded by papers, books and computer screens rocketed to his feet and came to attention, saluting.

Jeff returned the salute, then commented, "I'm not in uniform. No use in that. I just came by to see how things were going."

Mayfield offered Jeff a seat, then quickly set a cup of coffee in front of the Colonel. "Afraid we don't have any amenities out right now because the supplies are still being offloaded from the choppers. And Sir, the salute was for yesterday's fight. You couldn't see it, but we all saluted you when everyone in that auditorium did yesterday. The General was nice enough to give us a live feed on our helmets. One hell of a fight, Sir."

Jeff didn't know quite what to say that wouldn't sound like boasting, so he just thanked the Lieutenant.

"Now, what can I do for you, Sir? Oh, yes, before you ask, Sir, I'm not really in charge of the weapon emplacement installation. Major Bailey is in overall charge of this operation. I'm in direct command of your security force, though. The Major isn't going to start sending in the heavy stuff until after the wedding and all the guests leave."

Jeff sighed. "I hope this is overkill. It sure seems like it right now."

"Uh, Sir. I had a meeting with the General yesterday, via helmet video. Respectfully, Sir, he doesn't think it is overkill. I'm used to receiving orders from a Captain, though. I hope I didn't make a fool out of myself with the General..."

Jeff's chuckle broke into the Lieutenant's comments. "We definitely don't have a top-heavy command structure. Until the General promotes someone else, I'm the only Colonel, and there are darn few Majors. Most of our Captains are off-planet right now, so you have the opportunity to be noticed. And ... I have full confidence in you. You can bet your ass you wouldn't be here if Major Bailey didn't think you could handle the job. So when are you up for Captain?"

"Well, actually, I'm eligible now..."

Jeff knew the Lieutenant would be leaving this assignment with an extra bar if things went right. A Colonel's recommendation would cinch that. Jeff had spoken to Mayfield a few times, but had never worked with him. Jeff took a sip of the coffee and looked at the Lieutenant. Jeff guessed him to be about six feet tall, not overly muscled, a little on the lanky side, with dark blond hair and blue eyes. "I need to speak frankly with you for a moment."

"Certainly, Sir."

"I don't know how to say this without sounding a little pompous, but I don't mean it that way at all..." Jeff sat staring at his cup for a moment, then looked back up at the Lieutenant. "General Whitworth is providing all the equipment and security manpower, but I'm providing the capital for this building and any construction." Mayfield started to say something, and Jeff strongly suspected what it was. "No, I'm not here to ask you to keep costs to a minimum. Rather, I'm here to tell you to do everything you can to make certain the security team and yourself have everything they need to not only do a good job, but to make this an assignment they will remember fondly. Oh, I don't mean for you to bring in a troop of dancing girls," he teased, "but there's no use in skimping on things. I suspect this job is going to get really, really boring in short order. I hope to hell it is," he added. "I damn sure don't want my family attacked again."

"Anyone who attacks is going to regret it in the short time they have left to live," Mayfield said very emphatically.

"My sentiments exactly," Jeff concurred, "but unfortunately, telling the bad guys from the good guys is going to be even more of a problem until the wedding is over and the deliveries are back to normal."

Mayfield tried to hold back a grin, "Maybe not, Sir. Remember, the General is pulling out all the stops. We've already installed cameras on the mountain road before you get to your driveway. When the installation is complete, everyone visible in a vehicle will be automatically scanned and their image processed through the base's main computer before they even turn into the driveway. What the cameras on the road miss, the guard's helmet cam will take care of. Not to say anything about the guard area being a hotbed of scanning equipment, itself. If everything works right, he'll have notification long before the vehicle reaches your driveway if someone in the vehicle is in any criminal database that our main facility is hooked up with, which is pretty much everything. The vehicle will already have been scanned for hidden heat sources, outlines of persons, explosives, and so forth before it reaches a critical area.

"The techs will be here today with some serious computer systems to install, in addition to more scanning equipment for the guard area and the county road up the mountain. Everything will be tied into the base, and there will be a formidable staff on duty there 24/7 monitoring the screens and equipment, in addition to our staff here. If something takes us out here, or for some reason our equipment fails, the base will already be online and can take over in a heartbeat."

"Shit," Jeff said.

"Sir, I, uh ... Well, the General made it very clear that we were to defend you and your family. To quote, Sir, he said you were the only friggin' person on this Earth who could command that starship, and I was to keep that foremost in my mind while making any decisions about security. He said I could have anything I needed, so I immediately asked for the very latest cutting edge scanning equipment and a consulting staff that I could call on at a moment's notice. He said the scanning equipment was already on the way and he would have someone put together a staff of the best minds in the business. Sir, he didn't even hesitate."

The two men looked at each other for a moment, then, "Sir, you are particularly vulnerable when you leave the, uh, retreat, I think you call it. The General said he has already ordered several more of your armored Escalades for your security to use, plus other nondescript vehicles, but I have a request..."

At Jeff's nod, Mayfield went on, "Could you and your family please keep your trips to a minimum until I get things organized and all my people moved up here and oriented? When you do decide to go somewhere, could you please let us know ahead of time so I can check out the area and make sure everything is clear?"

Jeff sighed, leaned back in the chair and stared at the Lieutenant. But Mayfield didn't flinch from the stare. Diana is going to be pissed when she finds out she is going to have a major fucking escort just to go grocery shopping. Maybe I'll let Mayfield tell her,  he joked to himself. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Let him meet my Queen up front and personal. Probably need to invite him to a meal so he can talk to her. Jeff chuckled mentally. Yeah, time for you to start earning that second bar.

Mayfield didn't like the look on the Colonel's face — didn't like the look at all.

-------

The two cleaning vans moved up the county road, the occupants totally unaware that cameras were following their movements and their images were being transmitted back to the ski lodge and the base. Even though the Lieutenant's enhanced scanning equipment had not yet arrived, and most of the scanning equipment he did have wasn't completely installed, yet, what they had already installed as a 'quick-fix' got the job done, albeit a bit more crudely. Nevertheless as the vans turned into the drive, the sentry had just received a voice okay that none of the four cleaning employees were wanted for anything, nor did they have a criminal background. The first cameras were two miles down the road, and one of the subjects had been reading the morning paper, which blocked a good view of her face.

Finally, a quarter mile before the driveway, she had put the paper down, and there was frantic activity back at the base to get her recognized by the data base and her ID checked before the vans turned into the drive. (The cleaning company's employee data had been uploaded to the base last night. So it was just a matter of comparing her image to the cleaning company's records to identify her, then have the base system check her through the various law enforcement agencies across the nation, both by the name she gave the cleaning company and by her picture that was just taken as she put the paper down.) Later, with everything up and running, the system would do much of this automatically, and much quicker. Still, an innocent act of reading the paper had almost caused that part of the scanning system to fail.

The guard would have used his helmet cam to send her likeness to be checked, but there would have been a delay. That delay would be evidence that something was going on when the guard had to wait for something. An astute mind would certainly consider that he was waiting for approval and wonder why and how it was done. Lieutenant Mayfield had much rather a visitor think that the checkpoint with a cursory visual inspection was all the security there was.

The guard told his visor to retract and his readouts to go directly to the optic nerve of his left eye, something Kayla couldn't do with Jeff's helmet, because she had not been trained with the far more advanced combat helmets. Since the trooper was right eye dominant, the data didn't bother him, but was there if he concentrated to see it. He could now have easily called the cleaning crew by name, but that would have given away things best kept from the public.

"Good morning, Sir. We've been expecting you. May I ask you to please open the rear door of your van and let me look inside?"

The cleaning people, prompted by the owner before they left the company this morning, were expecting a search, and were wondering just how thorough it would be. Almost as if reading the driver's mind, the guard grinned at them, "You know how rich people get. Just a little past paranoid," he chuckled, glancing up the driveway at the hidden camera he knew would be recording his image and every word he spoke — teasing the Matthews just a little. "Won't take a minute and you'll be on your way. Same thing when you leave. Just stop for a moment and let me check your van. But the Matthews are pretty nice people once you get to know them."

"We don't have any weapons, or anything like that," the driver said as he got out. Shortly he had opened the rear door and the guard had looked inside, barely putting his head past the opening for a few seconds.

"Okay. You have a nice day," the guard said, stepping back.

That's it? the cleaning driver wondered, but wasn't dumb enough to voice it. Instead, he grinned, got back into the van and pulled up a little way to wait for the second van to be checked.

As they waited, the driver's wife voiced his thoughts. "That's all the guard is going to do? I thought Mr. Slaughter said our van would be searched?"

"All he did was glance inside. I can live with that. Besides, he was nice about it."

They had no idea how thoroughly their van had been searched (scanned), and how many eyes were still going over the contents of those scans in case something had been missed. The General had "breathed on" several supervisors, as they were sometimes wont to say. They had absolutely no doubt that heads would roll if an enemy got to the Matthews twice by concealing themselves in a van.

A few minutes later, Jeff stopped at the security checkpoint as the guard walked up to him. Jeff knew that he and his vehicle had not been out of sight of the cameras and other scanning equipment since he had just gone up to the ski lodge, but the guard walked to the back of his vehicle, obviously looking at each seat as he passed, plus the storage area in back. Jeff knew the tinted windows would cause no hindrance to the guard's view via the helmet.

The guard walked back to Jeff's window. "Sorry, Colonel. General's orders. Every vehicle; every time. Even if you just go to the mailbox."

"I'd be a fool to protest, Carter. It's me and my family you're trying to protect."

"I wish I could stay, Sir, but we're due to leave as soon as we get the security team trained. Probably Saturday, I think."

"I hate to see you guys go. I'm going to see that we at least have another sit down meal together before you leave, though."

"Looking forward to it Colonel."



-------

Chapter 82


Jeff had just dialed his next door neighbor who lived a mile down the road.

"Steve Sperman here."

"Hi Mr. Sperman. This is Jeff. How's it going?"

"Hmmm. Didn't we have a discussion about that Mr. thing?"

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I guess we did, Steve. How's Marcie doing?"

There was a hesitation. "You know, that's a funny thing, like I mentioned before. Seems like after the night we spent at your place, ol' Uncle Arthur (arthritis) suddenly got much better. Odd that both of us would just suddenly get better and at the same time. I don't know about our osteoporosis, have to be tested to find out about that, but anyway, we feel so much better that we went skiing yesterday — the way we used to ski, not having to restrict ourselves to the easier slopes. We had an absolute ball. And ... you're not going to believe this, but we... look younger."

"Hey, that's great," Jeff replied, a little worried that Sperman would put things together and really wonder what happened that night at the retreat when Little One covertly visited the couple — maybe they already had, for Steve and Marcie were far from being the dullest knives in the drawer.

Need to get off that subject,  Jeff thought. "Say, there are a couple things I would like to talk to you about. First off, Frank, Margaret and all the Matthews family would like to invite you and Marcie to Frank and Margaret's wedding Friday night. It's going to be at sunset, so you probably need to be here about 5:30 P.M. or so to get a good seat. There's going to be a lot of people, most of them staying here Thursday until Saturday morning."

"We wouldn't want to impose..."

"We'll bring down your invitation. You're not imposing; far from it. Things have been happening and we didn't get the invitation mailed on time."

"Bringing the invitation down isn't necessary, Jeff, the phone call will certainly suffice."

"Yeah, but my daughter gets to drive, so you're going to get it hand delivered."

Jeff could hear the laughter in Sperman's voice. "In that case, then by all means, we need the written invitation."

"She'll be right down with it, and she's bringing the girls you haven't met yet so you can get acquainted."

"We'll be waiting for them."

"Oh, yeah, Steve. I almost forgot. I hope the noise of the helicopters didn't bother you this morning."

"No, of course not. I think I did hear one earlier, but the sound was barely noticeable. I only heard it because I was outside blowing the snow off the walk. I did see a couple lumber trucks going your way, though. Are you adding to something?"

"Actually, we're fixing up the ski lodge, but you don't have to worry, we're not opening it up to the public. Oh, something else: The property between your house and mine? We're in the final stages with that. So one day soon, I'll own everything between us. That way, no one can build on it or anything. I want to leave the land just like it is. Thought you might want to know that."

"That makes us feel a lot better. We moved way up here to get away from noisy neighbors, and we love the quiet — and our retirement. We talked about buying that land just to keep it from being built up, but we just didn't have the money to do it — at least not comfortably. You're a good neighbor, Jeff."

"We think the same thing about you two, Steve. Oh, yeah, Frank started up a helicopter service, so most of the guests will be coming in on one of his copters. There'll be quite a few trips in and out for the next few days."

"Like I said, I could barely hear the helicopter this morning, and there are too many trees and part of the mountain in the way, so I couldn't see it at all. No problem for us."

"That's good, Steve. Arlene will be down with your invitation in a few minutes. Take care."

"Be waiting for her."

After hanging up the phone, Jeff turned to his daughter. "You need to call Lieutenant Mayfield and let him know where you're going, and give him time to set it up. We're going to have to get used to this. The ski lodge's number is in the index by the phone."

But Arlene, having anticipated, was already dialing.

Jeff had told Mayfield that Arlene would need to go a mile down the road, and the Lieutenant had said it would not be a problem. He just wanted to make sure he had enough personnel before Jeff or his family went out of range of the cameras.

A few minutes later, "It takes seven of them to deliver an invitation one mile down the road?" Jeff said with a smile as he and Diana watched the girl's Escalade going down the driveway.

"You're not worried about her driving on these mountain roads?" Diana said, obviously doing just that.

"She has her license, and it's Arlene we're talking about. You know damn well I trust her — well, mostly," he admitted. "Besides she knows she's on video all the way. Not to say anything about the troopers who just went down in front of her in one of the other Escalades. We're going to share our vehicles with the security people until they get theirs in."

"That's the reason the General is ordering Escalades, isn't it? With the tinted windows, it will be hard to tell we even have security, at least until they get out of the vehicle for some reason."

"Yep. He just added to our 'parade, ' I guess. Shit. I already hate this, but if that's what it takes to keep my family safe..." he finished. "Oh, yeah. Steve said he could barely hear the copter this morning. Apparently he thought there was just one. If he could barely hear those two big helicopters, I doubt if he'll ever notice our regular shuttle helicopters. So I think we'll get away without too much curiosity from the neighbors when the General sends in equipment."

-------

As the Escalade reached the bottom of the driveway, the guard stepped out, motioning for Arlene to lower her window.

"Here, Ma'am, take this. We'll soon have all your vehicles fitted with radios, and each of you will also have one of these," he said, handing her a small radio about the size of a cell phone, and disguised to look like one. "This turns it on and off, and this button here on the side is the transmit key. It's on our frequency. The radio's range is about fifteen miles in these mountains, sometimes a little less, depending on where you are. The ones that will be installed in the vehicles will have a better range, still. It's scrambled, so no one can hear you, other than us."

"Thank you, Mr. Carter."

"No problem Ma'am. The road is clear. You may proceed. Take care," he finished, stepping back from the window.

"All this scares the crap out of me," Jennie fretted as Arlene raised the window and they started on.

"You're not by yourself," Melissa added.

Arlene eased out of the driveway onto the county road, turning left. "They're protecting Daddy. We belong to him, so we're part of the package, I think."

"He's cute," Whitney said, looking out the back.

"Keep that up and I'll tell Daddy. He'll tan your butt," Arlene laughed.

"Oh, I said he was cute. I didn't say I wanted to sleep with him," Whitney quickly said.

"In other words, she's horny," Nat said with a giggle.

"Well, aren't you?" Whitney shot back.

"Yes," they all said, laughing.

Half a mile later, Ann had been staring out her window. "I haven't seen any cameras, or any disturbed snow where they've put them up. But Jeff said we would be on camera most all the way."

"Can't see where Dickwad got splattered at the end of the retreat, either," Melissa said. "They could have used a snow blower to cover their tracks just like those forensic people did. Or maybe the security guys used one of those bucket truck things like the power company uses. That way there would be no tracks on the snow under the trees or on the side of the road."

"I didn't see a bucket truck come up the road."

Ann was still looking hard out her window. "Well, whatever they used, I haven't seen a camera, or any of their sensors, let alone any disturbed snow, other than just where the plow has been."

Arlene slowed to a crawl as she got to the Sperman's driveway. There was a crunch and a thump as she maneuvered the big SUV across a small terrace of snow where the Sperman's snowplow had turned into the county road. "I hope that didn't hurt anything," Arlene worried.

"Oh, silly, it's just a rut from the plow, and a chunk of ice. You didn't hurt anything."

Arlene stopped the SUV in the driveway where she was obviously supposed to park. "Oh, crap. I'm going to have to back up to turn around when we leave."

"Will you quit fretting," Ann demanded. "You sound like an old maid," she finished with a small chuckle. "Besides, you back up at home all the time when we check out the vehicles or gas them up." Then with a little giggle, "Anybody who would snowboard that driveway shouldn't be upset about turning a car around. Now let's go see the Spermans."

"Yeah, but I've never had everybody in the car with me when I drove," Arlene answered.

Giggling, the girls were careful when they got out of the vehicle, worrying that they would track snow into the Sperman's home. On the porch, Jennie had just reached for the buzzer, when the door opened. "My, my, my," Steve said as he flung the door wide. "Come on in out of the cold." Then calling out to his wife, "Marcie, they're here."

The short visit went well with Marcie insisting they all try a new cookie recipe she had just taken out of the oven. Arlene gave Marcie the invitation and made sure that she and Steve promised to be there.

-------

Arlene very carefully backed and turned, checking repeatedly that she wasn't backing into anything, Jennie and Melissa teasing her unmercifully. As they turned in to the retreat's driveway, the guard stopped them and did a slow walk-by their vehicle. Their security's SUV stopped on the county road and waited until the girls' vehicle started up the driveway before the security vehicle headed back to the ski lodge.

"This is going to get old very quickly," Jeff said as they watched the monitor in the kitchen.

"The security or Arlene driving?" Diana asked.

"Both," Jeff sighed.

-------

Frank had commented that the less he had to do with the planning of the wedding, the less strife there would be between his wife-to-be and himself. But, rather than get in an argument with Margaret, he went along with the others to meet the helicopter. So Frank, Margaret, Jeff, Diana, Kayla and one of Jeff's team were standing at the end of the parking area as Reed maneuvered to land. There were intermittent gusts of wind but the pilot had warned them to stay well clear of the pad in case he had to abort.

The copter was about ten feet off the ground when the strong gust slammed into it. The engine roared as the machine skittered backward about fifty feet, wobbling slightly as Reed fought the cross winds. The second approach when the gust died down was easily successful, and Reed put the copter gently on the pad.

Margaret, still amazed that Frank had ridden in any aircraft without Bill at the controls, turned to Frank. "Don't start."

Frank grinned at her. "Hell, he handled the copter with the strong gust hitting at the wrong instant. Besides, Bill is always sitting up front when we come in." There was a pause, "Of course, I would probably have to change my underpants about now if I had been on that thing, though."

Jeff laughed. "Me, too. Helicopters are not my favorite mode of transportation. There are too many systems that have to all work perfectly. Something goes wrong and while the pilot is trying to figure out how to fix it, the thing is sailing along like a concrete block."

Kayla's eyes were locked on the helicopter as the rotors gradually came to a stop. "I know Reed said that he only picked up the wedding planner and her daughter, but we've been fooled once; it isn't going to happen again." Kayla's hands were jammed into the pockets of the big coat she wore, her Glock nestled into the palm of her right hand. The guard beside them was equally alert, but with the helmet he wore, he already had far more information than Kayla had.

The door opened and a woman about fifty stepped out of the helicopter with another woman about thirty following shortly behind her. They were wearing light jackets. Although it wasn't snowing, another hard gust of wind hit, pelting the women with snow gleaned from drifts nearby. Both women threw up their hands to protect their faces.

The pilot (Clarence Reed) began putting out several bags as Jeff's team member jogged over, briefly told the women what he was doing, then went ahead with the scanner.

"Here," Margaret said, holding out one of the heavy coats to the wedding planner while Frank did the same to the other woman. "I didn't think you would totally believe me when I said it would be cold up here."

"How cold is it?" the woman said, shivering, as she gladly slipped her arms into the coat.

"Oh, it's not bad today," Margaret answered, holding back an "I told you so." "A little above zero I think,  (Zero Fahrenheit) but the wind makes it a lot worse." After quick introductions, "Come on, let's get the two of you inside. We can do the introductions later."

"It was fifty degrees when we left Saint Louis," the woman mumbled as they started toward the back door of the retreat.

Reed stood talking with Frank. "There are generally gusts and downdrafts around the mountains, but that one caught me by surprise. Probably scared the crap out of those two women. Do you have anyone else scheduled to come up today? I don't want to try it again until the wind dies down."

Frank shook his head. "No, and we're due some more snow tonight, but only about four inches — if you can believe that mountain weather forecast. Anyway, like we've talked about, we have a number of people coming in tomorrow, with a lot more scheduled for Friday. Which reminds me," he said handing Reed two thin folders. "One for you and one for your wife. They're updated lists with a few changes from the original I gave you a couple days ago. Weather permitting, we're still on for you to pick up Bill, Kathy and Jill shortly after daylight in the morning. They'll start bringing people into Boulder tomorrow afternoon, and there are several people arriving in Denver via commercial as well. I've changed some of the arrival times from the previous draft I gave you. And ... like we've talked about, if the weather is bad, I have two limo companies who will hopefully take over."

Reed shrugged his shoulders. "The weather is supposed to be clearing by early morning, but it doesn't look like it right now," he said as the wind gusted for a moment. "We'll do the best we can. I'll call you if I decide the weather is too rough."

"This is one reason I sold this place. Getting a group of people up here at the same time in the summer is just a logistics problem. In the winter, it becomes a nightmare. Crap, it's just mid October. Wait until we start getting some real snow."

Reed laughed. "Well, I don't care how deep the snow is if the weather is reasonably clear and the wind stays down, so that should help you this winter if you decide to bring a lot of people up. You won't have to worry about them driving through the snow this year. For the present, the extended forecast says we should be in good shape for tomorrow through Sunday, so cross your fingers."

-------

In the living room, Margaret introduced the wedding planner, Page Hobson, and her married daughter, Kelsie Vandyke, to everyone. Page was thin, apparently bounding with energy. Both women were dark brunettes, and of medium height, with Kelsie quite a bit heavier than Page. Page's hair color didn't look quite as natural as her daughter's, though. Kelsie's figure was much fuller, but she fell shy of being fat. Both women carried laptop computers and bulging briefcases. The girls put the luggage in a double suite while Diana set the two women up with a conference room for an office, then walked them through getting on the retreat's public section of their home network, and the Internet. They were off and running.

Frank pulled Jeff aside, and quietly said, "I need a cup of coffee. You?"

Jeff chuckled, "Yeah, me too. Let's go to the kitchen and get out of the way."

A couple minutes later, Frank poured for them as Jeff set a container of sweet rolls the women had made on the table.

Having seen Frank's obvious tension, something very foreign to his nature, "What's the matter, Frank? Hell, I know you can't be worried about money, you've got about all there is in the world..."

"I'm not that rich," Wainwright chuckled, "but no, money isn't the problem. I don't give a shit how much she spends on the wedding. I'm just worried about Margaret, herself. She's been against us getting married from the very beginning, saying we were getting along too well to risk messing things up. Hell, I know, for I damn near begged her to marry me enough times. She just saw how well you got along with your wives, and with us around you so much, she finally said yes. You were there. I was beside myself I was so happy."

"So what's changed?"

"Nothing. As you know, Margaret was married twice before, and she said that everything was fine until they said the 'I do' thing, then shortly everything went to shit. That's the reason she didn't want us to get married to start with. When she did agree to marry me, she said we would just have a small wedding like you guys. Now, this thing keeps getting bigger and bigger. When I tried to rein her in, she said she wanted to do it right this time. Damnit, Jeff, I just want her to be my wife. I want to introduce her as Mrs. Margaret Wainwright. Now I'm getting afraid of the wedding for the same reasons she had in the beginning. We don't need a fucking wedding planner, yet Margaret has spent many hours with her in Saint Louis, and more hours than you would believe on the phone with her. Hell, everything has to go through the wedding planner. Everything has to be just right. I'm beginning to think that damned wedding planner will have a schedule for our love making on our wedding night," he finished with an almost-snarl.

Frank had been expecting sympathy from his Prime, instead Jeff sat back and laughed.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" Frank grumped.

"You. The unflappable Frank Wainwright has the jitters — the pre-marriage jitters. You've been living with that woman for several years, now you're nervous as a new groom."

"Well, I am a new groom. Or at least I will be Friday night."

"I still think it's hilarious."

Frank's look segued into something else, the twinkle in his eyes giving Jeff pause. "This could be catching, you know."

"Wha..."

"You still have several marriages to go. There's Kayla, then there's..."

"Frank!"

"Once Diana sees all this. I'll bet she ... Yeah, this big wedding thing could definitely be catching. Just like a virus," Frank almost cackled.

Jeff didn't think that idea was a bit funny. The more he thought about it, the more chilling the thought became.

-------

Then the deliveries started. First there were the food deliveries. On the first one, the driver took exception to having his truck "searched." Carter told him that he could either let him (Carter) look through the truck, or he could leave. That prompted the driver to call his dispatcher. Then, of course, his cell couldn't lock onto a signal.

"I demand to talk to the owner. I've been here before. This is bullshit."

Carter pulled out his phone. It worked, which pissed the driver off even more."

Jeff answered on the first ring. "Colonel, this guy wants..."

"Yeah, I heard," Jeff, who had been watching on the monitor, said. "I won't allow him to go over your head, though. Wrong precedent. Handle it."

"He won't talk to you," Carter said as he returned his phone to its home on his belt.

"Fuck this shit," the driver snarled as he turned to get back in his truck.

A hand descended on his shoulder and turned him to face a man much larger and stronger than himself. "Look, I know you have a fucking pistol under your seat. Big deal. I have one on my belt and a rifle on my shoulder. Just leave the damn gun with me, let me search your truck, and I'll give your weapon back to you when you leave. I don't give a rat's ass whether you have a carry permit or not."

"How did you know..."

"I'm fucking psychic," Carter snapped out sarcastically. "Who fucking cares? Now are you going to leave the gun with me, or take the load back to your company and get your ass fired when the owner of this place calls and complains that you wouldn't make the food delivery for the wedding?"

"Ah, shit. I'll get it for you," the driver said as he opened the door and started to reach under the seat, but his arm suddenly wouldn't move, due to the big hand holding it. The hand felt a lot like a vise had clamped down.

Carter reached under the seat. Then started laughing as he pulled the small pistol out. "A fucking .25. Shit man, you need to get yourself a real gun. You're liable to piss somebody off with this thing."

Carter dropped the .25 caliber automatic in his pocket, not bothering to unload it. "You can pick it up on your way out. Now, can I look through your truck?"

"Why the fuck not?" the driver laughed. "I figured all hell would break loose when you realized I had the gun. Got robbed once. Don't intend for it to happen again."

"Don't blame you," Carter said as he waited for the driver to open the back. Shortly Carter was walking through the truck, his scanners active. Jeff turned to Kayla, "I wish I could keep Carter."

"You and me both," she agreed.

-------

Jeff, Diana, Kayla, the wedding planner and her assistant stood in the living room. "I'm going to be a what?" Jeff said as he frowned deeply and stared at Page Hobson, who had suddenly gotten a very bad feeling about her job. "So you want me to be, what, sort of a cross between a butler and a concierge?"

Diana stepped into the breech. "We want you to walk around in that sexy uniform, charm the women, impress the men and make sure things go smoothly," Diana said as she straightened an already-straight tie and sent him messages with her body language — messages that were going to make him blush if she didn't stop.

"So I'm supposed to say..."

"Yes, Dear," Diana offered.

Jeff tried to glare at her, but the quirk of her lips at the corner of her mouth as she tried to hide her smirk, almost got him tickled. "I feel like a ... monkey," he said, leaving out the adjective at the last instant, for what little good it did.

"One heck of a good looking monkey, though," his Queen said.

The wedding planner and her assistant blushed deeply.

-------

The phone rang. Jeff, operating on the theory of out of sight out of mind, was reading a book in their suite, so he answered the phone. When he identified himself, Dave broke in with, "I'm on the way in with Jesse's truck; just coming up on Winter Park now. Shit, this thing looks good, and it drives like a new one. It's dressed out, but not gaudy. Think you can get Jesse to come visit us for supper so you can give it to him?"

Jeff responded with, "He hasn't eaten with us in several days. If he doesn't work a double today, I imagine that visiting Alesha is high on his list of things to do — like number one on a list of one," he chuckled. "I know they didn't have much alone time after the party last night. They were both already tired and they had to get up early this morning," he finished.

"When I get there, I'm going to pull the truck into the outside garage and wash the sludge off it from the snow on the road, then wipe it dry. Shouldn't take more than fifteen minutes. Didn't Diana say she wanted to put a bow on top?"

"Yeah, I think so. As soon as you get done washing the truck, check with Diana and the wedding planner, though. Di has your monkey suit ready for you. I just love mine." The sarcasm fairly dripped.

"No fucking way, Jeff. I don't have anything to do other than show up at the wedding."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"Oh, shit."



-------

Chapter 83

Dave found Jeff in the gym working out on one of the machines. Jeff nodded at his friend and kept working, "Did your monkey suit fit?"

"Yeah, but I'm not wearing that thing."

"Yeah, you will," Jeff huffed out as he pulled the bars to him.

"Is that an order?"

Jeff stopped and looked at him. "Of course not. Where did that idea come from?"

"Then I'm not wearing it."

"Yeah you will."

"Damnit, Jeff. If you're not ordering me to, then why in the hell do you think I will? And if you're saying my women will make me..."

Jeff worked the bars through two more cycles, then looked at Dave. "Evie will sit in your lap and ask you very sweetly to do it. If that doesn't work, she'll tear up a little. Next stage will be for her and your other wives to have a headache tonight, or maybe they'll use reverse logic and try to fuck you to death before asking again. I suspect you won't last past your Queen's clouding up to rain." Jeff went back to working the machine. "Make it easy on yourself and just volunteer," Jeff said, his teeth bared as he fought through his last reps.

Dave stepped out of the way as Jeff slid off the machine, grabbed a small towel and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. Dave grinned at the Prime. "You gonna take a shower? Walk down the hall like that and you're going to get raped. Looks like you've been wiped down in oil."

Jeff glanced in the mirror as he stood in shorts and shoes, his upper body bare and sweat-drenched. "I wasn't consciously putting out any pheromones, but I guess you're right. I think I've got another tee shirt and a pair of shorts down here. Wouldn't want to parade down the hall half naked with the wedding planners here, anyway."

Dave hadn't worked out in a week or so. Thinking he had plenty of time before supper, he sat, positioned his feet and pulled back on the bars — struggling to get one cycle. Jeff hadn't reset the machine. Its counter now showed fifty-one reps. Dave stared at the weight setting, then at the door Jeff had just disappeared into as he headed for the shower. Shit. He doesn't look that strong. Nowhere near it. Damnit, I know I'm fairly strong. The other day, I threw three bundles of shingles on my shoulder and took them up to a roofer who had run short. The roofer's helper had already taken the conveyor down, thinking there were enough shingles on the roof. He said I almost ran up the ladder, and he was much impressed. Hell, I hadn't even thought the shingles were heavy, but two bundles used to be a hell of a load for me, especially for the shingles we use. But Jeff just did fifty cycles on this machine. If I struggle, I might make ten. I know that my extra strength is the result of whatever Little One has done to our bodies, but shit, he just did fifty fucking cycles and walked away from it. Shit.

Dave reset the machine and got to work. So he's faster and stronger than I am. Hell, he's my Prime. He's supposed to be. Besides, I'm pretty damn sure I can take anyone on any of our crews, and I can fuck all my wives unconscious. Suddenly laughing aloud, I'm just glad to be here. Shit, my Prime is going to wear his monkey suit, as he calls it,  then mentally sighing, Guess I will, too.

-------

Jeff went down to watch the crew set up the guards' building at the foot of the drive. It was as if Wainwright or Dave had anticipated this when they built the driveway,  Jeff thought as the crane lifted the little eight foot by ten foot building and set it snug to the side of the drive. Still plenty of room for a vehicle to get by, but...  Then, Crap, It's logical to have a security checkpoint here. Frank probably left this wide place just for this.

As if reading Jeff's thoughts, Korey, who was standing beside Jeff, spoke up, "This is temporary until after the wedding. After that, Dave says we're going to move the house and build a bunker underneath for the guard to escape into in case he's overwhelmed. Also, there will be a substantial barrier in front of the building that will keep someone from driving a truck straight through the building and taking out the guard that way." Korey stopped for a moment, then plunged on, "What the crap happened, anyway? I know something prompted all this."

"We had some threats," Jeff hedged. "Better safe than sorry."

Korey shrugged. "One reason I'm working for Dave and Evie is that they treat me right, and they treat everyone else right, too. And they want the job to be done right. When we're finished here, this little house will match the retreat, will be warm in winter and cool in summer, and ... anyone in it will be safe, not that the guy looks like he needs any help keeping safe," he finished, nodding toward Carter.

Jeff chuckled with Korey. "Yeah, Carter can take care of himself, as can the others. He'll be leaving Sunday or Monday though."

"Lieutenant Mayfield says there will be a bunch of permanent security people in late today."

Jeff stood quiet for a moment as they watched the crane man as he gentled the little house into position. "Korey, let me ask you something. What do your crews think about all this? The fixing up of the ski lodge, the military copters — everything?"

"Mr. Matthews, I don't want to..."

"You're not going to be in any trouble, not with Dave, Evie or me. Just please answer my question."

Korey took a breath and turned away from the house to focus on Jeff. "Mr. Matthews, we make a living with our hands. Oh, we have to read building plans, figure needs for materials, know the building codes, that kind of thing. But none of us are intellectuals, I guess you could say..."

"Bullshit," Jeff broke in. "Just because you don't sit at a desk all day and work on a computer or something like that, well ... it damn sure doesn't mean you're stupid. So let's just cut to the chase. What's the scuttlebutt about all this? I would really like to know."

Korey grinned at him. "Oh, there's a bunch of rumors. Now that those military copters are coming in and those guys are here," he said, nodding toward Carter, "the rumors and wild ideas are really flowing. It's fairly obvious that you have something to do with the military. Everybody knows you're an inventor, so with the military involved, we think they want to make sure you're safe so you can keep on inventing for them, or keep working for them — something along those lines, anyway.

"Dave and Evie called us all together quite a while back and told us to either keep our mouths shut about you and your family, or they would fire us on the spot. Finding another job around here after that would be problematic at best, and it damn sure wouldn't pay as well, or have the benefits we now have.

"Truth is, about all we know about you is that you obviously have a ton of money, are good to us, and you're involved with the military in some way. Oh, and you have a bunch of very pretty ladies, also." Then thinking he might have stepped over the line, "Uh, Mr. Matthews, I..."

But Jeff was chuckling. "Yeah, I agree with you there. They're nice to look at. So don't panic, I'm not going to bite your head off. And besides, I asked," he finished still chuckling, then suddenly sobered. "If you hear or see anything that you think I need to know about, please tell Dave or Evie about it as soon as you can. If they're not around, my phone still works. I'll make certain you're not sorry. Oh, and Korey, be extremely suspicious about any new people to be hired at your company, or a new crew member to come up here."

"You bet, Sir. Uh, but Mr. Matthews, I really don't think you'll have to worry about any of the crews that come up here. You don't work up here unless you're trusted. We're all curious, but we all know that some things just aren't our business."

"Thanks Korey. I think Dave and Evie picked the right man to ramrod their business."

-------

Jeff and most of the wives were in the kitchen as they finished the evening meal. Margaret, the wedding planner and her assistant were just coming in.

When the computer made its announcements, "Here they come," Jennie said, as everyone watched first Alesha get her vehicle quickly checked by the guard, then Jesse right behind her.

Ann quickly brought the wedding planners up to date on what was going on.

"It's ready, Mom," Arlene said as she and the girls came in. "We secured the bow as best we could, but I'm afraid the wind will blow it off if it sets out there long, and it's started snowing, too."

"All right. We'll eat, then get them out the back on some pretext or other. So somebody needs to move the truck around to the back door about the time we finish up supper."

"Not me," Arlene quickly injected. "No way am I going to drive that pretty truck. I might scrape the door when I back it out of the garage or something."

"Oh, Arlene. You would not," Ann laughed.

"We hid two video cameras in a cardboard box in the mudroom. All you have to do is hit the On button and you're ready to go," Jennie said, then added, "Melissa and I will do the videos, I guess, unless someone else wants to do them."

"You both do a good job with a camera, so we'll leave that to you two," Diana said.

"I'll leave just before supper is over and drive the truck from the inside garage to the back door," Dave said. "Hey, I'll bet they're planning on going out tonight. If they park near the mudroom, I'll come in and say there's a big dent in the right fender of Alesha's Escalade. That should get both of them out the door."

"Oh, crap. Alesha will have a stroke," Evie said. "That is sooo bad. I love it."

Dave turned to Jeff. "Has Jesse asked about his truck lately?"

Jeff shrugged. "No. I'm just about certain he knows something is going on. The truck has been gone almost a month now. No way would it take that long to rebuild the motor."

"'Bout what I thought. He hasn't said anything to me. I'll bet Alesha told him to stop asking. Well, whether he's figured it out or not, the guy is going to have kittens when he drives it. And you're going to have a case of sticker shock when you look at your bank statement," Dave laughed, then continued. "The inside of the cab has all modern electronics just like a new model. And they didn't spare the leather, either. The inside is every bit as nice as the Escalades. They stripped the truck down to its frame and built it up again. And, of course, they put in a new motor, current year. That paint job is one of a kind, too. And the all-wheel drive is the modern version, also. Just flip a switch and go, or leave it on Auto and it comes on when you need it. Best snow tires money could buy, with a little bigger and wider chrome wheels, but not overly so. Speedometer has been calculated for the larger wheels, too. I topped the tank up when I got here, so they can ride tonight if they want."

"I wish he had let us do more," Joyce said. "He saved my life. Well, he and Alesha did. We still need to do something for her."

"Oh, we will," Jeff said with a little smirk. "Dave said he has an idea about that."

"What?" Caitlin asked.

"Not yet. Let's see what happens first, then we'll talk about it. If it works, the two of them will be set for their marriage, when she finally gives in and says yes, that is," Jeff laughed.

-------

Margaret, Page and Kelsie (the wedding planners) sat at a table in the conference room that was assigned to them. Page looked at the notes on her laptop. "We're going to be fairly crowded in the reception hall..."

"Booze will be flowing by then. People will spread out after Frank and I finish the first dance." Margaret had sounded very confident, until she added, "I hope."

"And this chef?"

"He's from Martha's restaurant. One we hired and sent to her. There are none better. We sent her two very good chefs for the interim as replacement. He's here basically for special cooked-to-order items that won't necessarily be on the food bar during meals. I had a heck of a time getting Diana to agree to him being here. This is Diana's home and her kitchen."

"You told me that, but you and Frank owned this place — built it, didn't you? I don't understand why you're using ... Oh, forgive me, that didn't come out right?"

"You're saying that Frank and I have the finances to bring in professional staff, and you're wondering why Diana and her family and our ... extended family are acting as staff, instead? Believe me, it has nothing to do with money. And certainly, Jeff and Diana are more comfortable the less we have to bring outsiders in, but truthfully, the decision was made for family to be staff well before anything happened. All I can say is that we've had a threat that has caused a tremendous escalation in our security measures. Bringing in that many outsiders to enter every room and have total free rein in this building is something that isn't going to happen right now — if ever. We're not going to tell any of the guests that staff is actually family until the wedding."

"They're surely going to know then," Page said, as the three of them laughed.

The women were quiet for a time as the planners made notes on their computers, then Kelsie turned to Margaret. "Uh, Ma'am..."

"Just Margaret, remember? I hear enough 'Ma'am at work."

"Uh, Margaret, this time slot here right after the wedding. I mean the reception area is just down the hall. Certainly we will announce to everyone that you and Mr. Wainwright..."

"And the rest of the family," Margaret offered.

"And the rest of the family will be in shortly. But isn't there something we might do to assist you?"

"The doors to the living room will be locked so no one is going to get back in. Hopefully there won't be any drunks knocking on the door to interrupt us," she joked. "Just carry on with the plans we've made and we will be there shortly. It would expedite things if you could get everyone out of the living room as soon as possible after the wedding, and get them moved into the reception hall."

"But if you're going to have some other type of..."

"No," Margaret interrupted. "There will be no need for planning or rehearsing. Just facilitate getting the living room clear of guests as soon after the wedding as possible. We'll all meet back with everyone at the reception in twenty minutes or so."

"I'll do my best."

-------

They were well into the evening meal. Jeff and his wives had subtly gotten the wedding planners to talking about themselves and their chosen work. When that wound down, Jeff asked Alesha about her day.

Alesha looked at him with her eyes sparkling, a totally different woman from the one who walked into the retreat a few short weeks ago. One obvious reason was Little One's enhancement, of course, but there was more. She was a lot more assured now — happier too. Her eyes would frequently drift to Jesse's, and a look would pass between them. The woman was in love and it showed.

Alesha took a sip of her tea, then, "Well, sometimes my job can be boring, but then again, something occasionally happens to liven the day. Sometimes it's just a reservation error, or someone who is cranky or has a chip on their shoulder. But then again, sometimes something funny happens. Meeting the public, you never know what to expect. I checked in this couple this afternoon, about two o'clock, I guess. Anyway, they were ... odd. They just kinda made you want to ... snigger when you looked at them walking down the hall. She would make three of him. I have no idea why they came to a ski lodge," she giggled. Anyway, he was only about five foot five, I guess, and was skinny. She was about his height, but ... well, let's just say she was very drastically weight challenged.

"Doris was working with me. She looked over at me as they walked away and ... asked how in the heck they could 'fit together.' Meaning sexually, of course. We got the giggles just as the manager walked up. When he asked what was so funny, we couldn't tell him, and that just made it worse. Everything was funny then.

"About an hour later, we got a call from 343. Yep, their suite. The guy was on the phone and he was frantic, wanting a female to come down and help get his wife out of the Jacuzzi. The manager was there, so I asked him who he wanted to send, and he sent one of the maids. A couple minutes later, the maid called back and was really indignant. She complained that she couldn't afford to strain her back, and we needed to send a man to lift this woman, but I could hear the woman's husband in the background shouting that he didn't want a man to see his wife nude.

"I told the manager how big the woman was and he started mumbling about idiots who were that big and dumb enough to get into a Jacuzzi, anyway. Then he sent me with two more maids, and reminded me that I was in charge and to do what I felt was best. By then, I was feeling like my very nice day had just, uh, gone downhill.

"Well, I rounded up two more maids and when I got to the suite ... well, this woman's ... breasts," she said as her face colored, "weighed more than I do. The couple had used bubble bath, I guess, and the tub was slick. They had drained the water out before they called us. But she couldn't get to her knees because of the slick tub and her weight. How she got into the thing is still a mystery to me."

"So how did you get her out of the tub?" Dave asked, tears in his eyes from laughing.

"Well, the first thing I did was to get her drunk," Alesha laughed. "No, actually, I saw a bottle of booze on the table and suggested she have a shot to calm her. To say she was hysterical would probably be an understatement. After the booze had time to take effect, I got the maids to wipe down the tub as best they could, and we got her as dry as we could. Then all of us together got her turned over on her belly with the non-slip throw that goes on the floor by the tub under her knees. Once she and the tub weren't so slippery, we got her to her knees and out of the tub fairly easily. It was funny as could be, but I actually felt sorry for her. Oh, she got her own self so fat, but still, when I saw how scared and embarrassed she was, I just couldn't laugh at her. Well, at least where she might see. But I guarantee our staff will remember it for a long time. And I still don't know how they managed to have sex," she laughed.

-------

As the meal neared its end, Dave got up and left the table without saying anything. About five minutes later, he walked back in just as the women were picking up the plates from the table and putting the food away.

"Alesha, where did you get the dent in your Escalade?" Dave said as he casually poured himself a cup of coffee.

Alesha had just put a stack of dirty dishes in the sink to be rinsed. "Dent? What dent?"

"Right front fender. A pretty good one," Dave said, keeping his face straight.

"Oh, great. Somebody has hit my car while it was parked in the lot. Some damn drunk, I'll bet," she said as she rinsed and quickly dried her hands. "Come on, Jesse. Let's go see how bad it is," she resignedly said.

"Don't sweat it, Alesha. That's what insurance is for," Jeff quickly inserted when he saw how upset Alesha was.

They filed out into the hall with Jesse in the lead. Diana caught up to Alesha, grabbed her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "Nothing is wrong. We just want Jesse to look out the back."

Alesha looked at her and mouthed, "Truck?"

Diana nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

When they got to the back, Alesha grabbed Jesse. "You look, I can't stand to even think about having wrecked one of the Matthews' Escalades," she said, wanting him to see his truck first.

Jennie and Melissa grabbed up the video cameras. Jesse opened the back door while talking to Alesha, "Oh, come on, Baby, no use getting upset..." As he turned to step out on the stoop, he slammed to a halt, "Oh, shit. Is that my truck? That's the biggest bow I've seen in my whole life. My gosh, look at the wheels. Oh crap, that paint job must have cost a fortune."

He looked back at all the grinning faces, then started out the back. "Here, you might need this," Jeff said, tossing Jesse his coat. Joyce handed Alesha her coat and everyone quickly followed Jesse outside. But he was already walking around the truck, muttering about this had cost too much. Dave blipped the door lock open and Jesse turned to stare at him, knowing his old truck didn't have that feature. Dave reached in and pulled the hood release, thinking that Jesse would want to look there.

Jesse raised the hood and stopped. "This isn't my..."

"New, this year's model engine," Dave said. "Modern electronics throughout. New transmission, new all-wheel drive. Everything new from the frame up. Lots of modifications."

Jesse whirled to Jeff. "This is too much, I can't..."

"You saved the life of my wife. You and Alesha did. Are you telling me Joyce isn't worth it?" Jeff broke in, his voice teasing, but with an underlying seriousness showing through.

"Jeff, damnit, you know what I mean. This cost a ton of money."

"Yeah, and I would have put you in a new Escalade, or whatever you wanted, but you wouldn't let me. We finally talked you into letting us 'rebuild' your truck. So we did," he finished, chuckling.

"Why don't you take your girl for a ride?" Dave said, handing Jesse the keys. "Tank's topped up and the snow is coming down pretty good. Might even get a chance to try out that four wheel drive when you come back up the driveway."

Startling Jesse even more, Diana kissed him — on the mouth. The kiss didn't last long, but he darn sure knew he had been kissed, and the hug she gave him while she kissed him wasn't one of those A-frame hugs, either.

Alesha swatted him on the ass, then ran around to the other side of the truck and got in. "Hurry and get the heat going. I'm cold," she ordered.

The girls snatched the bow off.

Jesse stepped up to Jeff. "I don't deserve this..."

Startling Jesse, Jeff gave him a man hug. "I ain't gonna kiss you, though," he laughed. "Have fun. We'll talk later."

Jesse stood for a minute shaking his head, willing his eyes to not tear up, then laughing, he got in the truck, started it, and they were gone.

-------

Jeff and Diana sat in one of the many small alcoves, this one overlooking the front of the retreat's grounds and the beginning of the driveway. The outside lights were on as the couple watched it snow.

"Looks like it's picking up," Diana observed.

"Yeah. Think I should plow out the driveway, since they're still out?"

"Won't the four wheel drive truck make it up the driveway without it?"

"Oh, sure. There's no ice, per se, and we plowed the drive out this morning. They didn't have any problem coming up it when they came home, but it's snowing pretty hard now."

"Then why don't you leave it and let him test his truck?"

Jeff kissed her neck, watching the goose bumps form on her arms, and her nipples jut out. "I don't know how far down the mountain it's snowing, but he's probably going to have it in four wheel drive long before he gets to the driveway."

Diana sighed and looked at her husband. "I worry about that guard sitting in that little house. That must be so boring. Does he have any heat in there?"

"I'm sure they've rigged something, but if they haven't, he or she won't be cold. I told you the suits will keep them warm."

"Where did they stay last night? Did the guard just stand out there all night?"

"I imagine he sat in one of the Escalades." Jeff grinned at his wife. "These people work for a living, and they're paid pretty darn well. Carter is happy as a puppy to be here. It beats the shit out of being shot at. They'll consider this a vacation."

Diana's face showed her skepticism as her husband went on. "He doesn't have to remain on high alert. He has scanners in his helmet that will warn him of any movement within a range he specifies. The cameras on the road, and the others they've already put up will warn him of any vehicle, or anything approaching his position, not to mention the other troopers also monitoring. He'll stay awake, but will probably be watching a vid on his helmet screen to keep him from getting sleepy. I didn't ask what his Lieutenant has set up for shifts, but I imagine they'll be four hours so that he won't get too bored before he's relieved. You can bet the Lieutenant will also run exercises to help keep the guard alert. I just hope they can hurry up and get the guardhouse armored and safe. Like I said before, he's vulnerable. But with all the technology involved, he should definitely be warned."

-------

Jesse and Alesha had driven to Winter Park in their new truck. After getting a frappé at McDonalds, they drove around town for a while, then headed back toward the retreat. Partway up the mountain, Jesse pulled into their spot and shut the lights off. It wasn't snowing as hard here as it had been at the retreat when they left, but still it was pretty with little wind this far down the mountain.

Both released their belts and Alesha slid over to snuggled under Jesse's arm. "The truck smells good. All this new leather I guess," she said.

Jessie hugged her tight, feeling the side of her breast press into him. "I still wish Jeff hadn't done this. He spent a lot of money on this truck. I didn't do anything to deserve all this."

"Yes," Alesha said.

Jesse frowned. "Yes, what?"

"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."

"You will?" he said, his voice rising. "You really will? But you said..."

"Not now. But I would love to be your wife. But Jesse, uh, I want to wait until we're married before we make love."

"That's okay," he quickly said. "I understand. We'll..."

"I want to wait a while to get married, Jess. We need to save more money — a good bit more. We need to rent a bigger apartment than the one you're living in now, and I'll have to have a decent four wheel drive vehicle to make it to my work. I can't keep driving the Matthews' Escalade after we're married. It just wouldn't be right. Now that I have a good job, it won't take long to save up, though. We want to have a nice place to live — to raise our kids."

"Kids? You really want to have kids?"

"I thought you said you did too?"

Jesse laughed. "Damn right I do. I want a house full. I'll bet you're cute as a button with your belly swelled up. And I want to taste your milk," he said as he unbuttoned several of her blouse buttons.

"I don't have milk now, Silly," she groaned as he unhooked her bra and fastened his mouth to a nipple. Then, "Oh, Jess, that feel sooo good."

They slid over in the seat with Jesse nursing first one of her breasts then the other, her hands in his hair pulling his face tighter to her breasts. Alesha gasped, shuddered and whined, her body trembling. As the orgasm tapered off, Jesse gradually decreased his stimulation of her breasts, eventually just kissing them gently as her breathing returned to normal.

Her hand trembled as she stroked the back of his head, then pulled him up until she could kiss him tenderly. "I've never come that hard in my life, and I did it with you nursing my breasts. Diana told me that all Jeff's wives did, but I never thought I could. Oh, Jess, I love you."

"I love you too, Baby."

They sat up, but Alesha didn't re-fasten her bra. "Jess, I'll take care of you," she said, putting her hand on his groin. "It isn't fair for me to have orgasms and you not. I don't know how good my blow jobs are, but you can teach me to do them the way you like..."

Jesse chuckled, turning her face to his so he could kiss her mouth. "Maybe later. But right now — no."

"I did it for those men. I thought I was going to freeze or starve to death. I was so thankful when he picked me up; I just did anything he wanted. And the asshole from the car lot, well, I did it for him, too. I just kind of drifted away from my body and did it. The same when they fucked me. Oh, Jess, I don't know whether you'll ever think I'm any good or not. I mean, I never really tried to be good at it, and I guess I've never really made love. I just allowed them to fuck me..."

"We won't make love until we're married; well not going all the way, I mean. But even if I don't put my dick in you, I want to make love to you in other ways. But those guys made you do some of those things, particularly the guy who let you live with him for sex. He knew you had no heat or food. That's the same thing as rape. The other was just an asshole and he knew you were vulnerable, just like the first guy. Now you have a beautiful place to live, a bunch of people who love you, and you have a good job. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. We'll wait. When we go all the way, I want it to be because you want to."

Alesha giggled and hid her face against his chest. "If that's the criteria, then it's time now."

He held her to him. "That's my girl. But we'll wait until our wedding night, like you said you wanted us to. That doesn't mean I have to wait to suck your titties, though," he laughed, then put his mouth back on a nipple.

The purr of the idling engine seemed to accentuate their loving mood.



-------

Chapter 84

WEDNESDAY NIGHT

"So, what do you think of the new cleaning people?" Jeff asked a nude Diana as they readied for bed.

Diana rinsed her mouth of toothpaste and turned to her equally nude husband as he stood beside her in the vanity area. Despite herself, her eyes drifted downward to glance at his manhood. It immediately began to swell. He looks like one of those gods of fantasy. When he moves his body, his muscles sort of ... ripple. He could break me in half, yet his touch is as gentle as can be. Except ... when he spanks me, or holds me and fucks my brains out. It's time for him to do that again soon. After the hassle of this wedding is over, I'll have to push him a little so he will know I need that. I want him to throw me on the bed, put me on my hands and knees, and take me.

"Di?" His voice was quiet with just a hint of humor as he watched the emotions flow across her face.

She took the step into his arms, her right hand going to his cock as she nuzzled her face into his neck. Gently squeezing his manhood, she slid her hand up and down it for a moment, not actually trying to fully stimulate him, just being familiar and letting him know she loved and desired him.

"The cleaning people?" he prompted, love and a tiny amount of amusement in his voice because his cock had distracted her.

"I'm very pleased with them. I'm sorry you missed the owner. He came by while you were tied up with Dave. The guy seemed very nice."

"Yeah, well, so did the other people until they started shooting at us."

Diana chuckled as she leaned back to look at her husband's face. "I can't believe I laughed a little when you said that. I thought I would never..."

"We're human beings, Baby. We either get over what's happened, or it will tear us apart. But I'm worried sick about Joyce being out there at night, and the same for Caitlin when she goes to work. Caitlin's job isn't dangerous, but both of them are vulnerable as kidnap victims. Security is escorting them to work and back — covertly, but still..."

"The cleaning people did an excellent job," she said, hopefully derailing Jeff's worry about his working wives for the moment. "All your wives took the day off from school to help. The place is as clean as it's ever going to be. We're stocked on food, and the chef is scheduled to be here tomorrow afternoon in time for our first meal with the wedding guests. We all have a uniform and two changes. Margaret and the wedding planners still have a lot to do, but..."

"But," he said continuing her sentence in a slightly different way, "if everything comes apart, the only ones who will know will be the two wedding planners and Margaret. She and Frank will still be married, and the wedding will be pretty no matter what."

"Jeff, that's a man's attitude..."

"Yep, and I'm a what?" he said as he slid a hand down between them and circled her clit with a fingertip, then after a bit the finger eased a little downward parting her nether lips, teasing her entrance, eventually sliding back upward to stroke her clit some more. Diana hissed in a breath and bucked against him, her body suddenly trembling.

Picking her up when she collapsed against his chest, he walked into the bedroom and put her on the bed. Shortly, he was buried to his balls in her.


THURSDAY, OCTOBER 17

They were just starting breakfast when the satellite phone rang. When Jeff answered, the General said, "Might want to turn on the news channel." He hung up without further comment.

"Whitworth said to watch the news channel," Jeff repeated.

Jennie snatched the remote off the counter and had the station on in seconds. " ... The senator was found dead in his bed when his wife awakened this morning. His two grown children have been notified and will be on their way back from Paris. The senator's wife and their other child, an eighteen-year-old daughter, are in seclusion and we were unable to interview them. Police tell us there is no obvious evidence of foul play. The senator was pronounced healthy after a routine physical just two months ago. For an update on this, we take you now to our own Doctor Carl Nelson..."

Jennie pressed the mute button, every eye on the table turning to Jeff. With a slight nod from him, there was a collective sigh and conversation picked up again as if there were never a break.

-------

"Did you see the smirk on Bill's face when he walked out the door?" Jeff asked as he, Frank and Dave sat in the living room for a final cup of coffee after breakfast. "I think he was ready to burst out laughing about me playing the concierge thing..."

Diana walked through the door, obviously having heard Jeff.

"He did not have a smirk on his face. And you're not 'playing the concierge thing.' Despite what you think, Jeff Matthews," she continued as she came up behind him and put her arms around his neck, "this is going to be so much fun. Just wait and see. And remember this, too. What would you be thinking right now if we suddenly had fifteen or twenty people we didn't know coming in here to serve and clean — running all over the retreat? Frank knows the guests, but there is no way he or any of us could know all the serving people that would have to be brought in for this. If we're to be safe, it has to be this way."

Wainwright frowned. "I kept telling Margaret to hold this thing down. Now I'm really feeling guilty."

Diana turned to Frank, her hands on her hips in a mock gesture, "Well, just stop feeling guilty. I'm totally behind Margaret wanting a big wedding. And, it's not really a big wedding, just a ... wee bit more elaborate than we first talked about," she said with a smile. "Certainly there could be two thousand people that would like to come to a Wainwright wedding. But the two of you have held it down to less than one hundred."

Jeff tried to hide the cringe as he thought about what Frank had said about the big/elaborate wedding thing being catching like a virus.

"And besides," Diana continued, "Margaret repeatedly asked if it would be all right, and she's worried about the number of guests that are scheduled to be here. So, you guys need to get into this before you ruin her wedding."

Damnit, I'm beginning to feel my face getting warm. This blushing crap has got to go,  Jeff thought as he realized that Diana was right, and the guilt hit him. Here I am bitching about wearing a pretty snazzy uniform and doing a little playacting. Heck, I would basically be doing the same thing, minus the uniform, of course, if the guests knew I owned the place, and I was just being a good host.

Diana kissed him and quickly left. "Frank, I..."

"Don't say a thing, Jeff. You haven't done anything wrong, and besides, I feel the same way." Wainwright sighed. "Hell, I guess she's right about not bringing in a lot of serving people, but like you, I don't see the need to pretend about this thing, let alone wear the uniforms."

"But," Jeff broke in, "I suspect we're going to get an up-close and personal view of how serving people are treated. Might do all of us good in the end."

"What about the new girls and Susan? Are they into this too?" Frank asked.

Dave had remained silent until now, just watching the fun. "Everybody is into it. My wives think this thing is the greatest idea since ... sliced bread," he finished with a grin.

Jeff got up to leave.

Dave frowned. "Where are you going?"

"To shine my shoes. Bill says Reed should be here with the first group around mid-afternoon. How about your shoes? They ready? If we're into this, might as well do it right," he said as he headed out the door.

-------

Jeff, Frank and Dave stood at the end of the long outside garage watching snowmobiles being offloaded from a truck. There was little wind, but the snow, long having stopped if you believed the weather forecast from yesterday, was still coming down, adding to the six inches of new snow from last night.

Jeff pulled the hood of his heavy coat forward a little. Nodding toward the snowmobiles, "I thought these were going to be rentals, Frank. They're brand-new. And how many did you order anyway? We already have several snowmobiles," he said as Dave turned to wave the second truck in.

"Well, let's see. You have nine wives, at least for the present, then there's Kayla, the new girls and your mother-in-law, Dave has three wives, Bill has two, and I'll have one come tomorrow night. How many of our guests will want to ride? I have no idea, but they're not going to go back home saying that Frank Wainwright was cheap and didn't provide enough snowmobiles for their enjoyment. And I have a certified snowmobile instructor coming in with the first guests this afternoon, as well as a ski instructor. They'll ride herd on the guests."

I didn't know they even had snowmobile instructors, Jeff thought, then, "Yeah, I know, but damn, Frank, two loads, plus what we already have."

"Better overkill than underkill," Wainwright said with a chuckle. "Besides, it's only money."

Jeff wasn't sure whether the last remark was a joke or not. With Wainwright's billions, it just might not have been.

They were joined by Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa, then shortly, the new girls came hurrying out — everyone wearing new snowmobile outfits. "And you're going to..." Jeff said, already having guessed.

"Gas them up and check them out," Arlene said with a grin, her breath puffing out around her. "We're not experts, but we've ridden ours enough to know what to do."

Jeff had a sinking feeling, but Arlene grabbed his face and kissed him hard. "We'll be fine." That said, she jumped on the nearest snowmobile, started it and left in a shower of snow as she headed for the gas pumps. The rest of Jeff's younger wives filed by for their kiss, then mounted and followed Arlene while the new girls watched.

Jeff turned to mock glare at Frank. "I heard that snigger. Too bad you don't have a couple teenagers who share your bed. Yeah, I think that's a great idea," he said, his face widening into a grin. "We're going to have to work on that now that you and Margaret are about to be hitched. I'll have to talk to her about that. Young blood in the family will do you good."

"Damnit Jeff, don't start that again. It is not funny, my friend," Wainwright said, his chuckles suddenly gone as he realized that Jeff, despite the grin, was serious. They stood for a moment watching the new girls trying to jog through the snow toward the back of the garage where the gas pumps were located. "Don't start anything with Margaret," Frank said, his voice almost pleading, even showing a hint of desperation. "She's already talking about getting me another wife, and we're not even married yet. Every time I try to talk to her about it, she just smiles and says an Alpha needs more than one wife."

Jeff grinned bigger at the rich man's discomfort. "Yeah, I think some young pussy calling you 'Husband' is just what you need. And don't come up with that shit about your not being able to take care of what you have now, let along more wives. Margaret has a totally different view about that, and she's freely shared that view with everyone."

"Well, I don't know any girls, nor any eligible young women who would fit in with us. So there's nothing to worry about." But his voice betrayed him.

Jeff's next words struck terror in Wainwright's heart as the Prime continued with, "Maybe we need to 'throw out the seine' as my dad used to say. Might catch something."

Frank started to comment when Evie, having just come out the back with her sister-wives, Linda and Kim, hollered out, "Hey guys."

"Oh, shit," Dave said under his breath.

"What?" from Frank.

"Evie is into snowmobile racing. She and I used to do it a lot — belonged to a club."

"You're worried about her?" Jeff said with a frown.

"Nope. I'm worried about her influence on my other wives — and yours."

Jeff, remembering Arlene snowboarding the driveway, said, "Arlene doesn't need any help to scare me to death." Then he thought about something. "Evie hasn't done anything with the snowmobiles that I've noticed. I haven't seen her riding with my wives..."

"We've been busy. Looks like she's not busy now, though."

Jeff looked at his friend. "Suddenly, I don't think I want to watch."

-------

Arlene came back to pick up another snowmobile. Jeff touched his daughter on the arm. "Come go with me a minute."

"Sure, Dad."

Jeff walked in through the small door on the end of the garage with Arlene following him, a slight frown on her face. "Did I do something wrong, Daddy?"

Jeff flipped the light switch and closed the door. "Of course not. I just didn't want those truck drivers to see," he said as he unzipped his coat and threw it on a work counter. "Open your collars a moment."

Arlene flipped her hood back, partially unzipped, then pulled the collar of her outfit open as well as that of her top. As soon as Jeff's instructions were out of his mouth, she had figured it out.

"Dad, are you sure?"

"She went with Kayla when I asked." He stopped and concentrated for a moment.

{{{ Certainly, if that is your wish, My Prime. }}}

"What's that look on your face, Dad?"

Jeff shook himself mentally. Little One had been very quiet since the incident where Arlene had been shot. Most of the time, she seemed to refuse conversation with him, only sending contentment when he tried to talk to her, but when she did answer, the answers were mostly clear — much clearer than they had been in the past.

"Nothing. Just wondering about something," he said as Little One flowed out of his collar and into his hand.

Putting the Healer on Arlene's shoulder, he said, "This is going to seem strange for a moment."

"You sure she'll — oh wow. That feels ... odd," she finished after Little One changed and quickly went through the space as Arlene held her blouse collar open. She suddenly stood up straight, hissing in a breath, a look of amazement on her face.

"Everything okay?"

There was a moment's hesitation. "Yeaah," she said dragging out the word. Then after another slight pause, "It felt so odd when she seemed to ... flow out across my shoulders, but now I really have to concentrate to even feel her body on mine, but ... I swear, Dad, I can feel her love for me. I really can, and I mean strong. I've felt something from time to time when mother and I tried to tell Little One things when you were hurt, and we can feel her when we make love and touch you, but this is ... different. I love you, too," Arlene said aloud.

Jeff knew Arlene's last comment wasn't directed toward him. "I don't think she can understand you, Baby. Her mind doesn't work quite like that."

Arlene turned to look her father in the eye. "Maybe not before, but I just got a vivid mental picture of something. Trouble is, I don't know what it was, or is, but I know it meant something. It was just ... odd."

Arlene looked away for a moment, thinking, then looked back at Jeff. "So I'm taking Little One with me in case..."

"You or some of our family needs her," Jeff finished. "Please keep it toned down on the snowmobiles, though. Uh, not everyone is blessed with your abilities..."

"You might be wrong about that, Dad. All of us have been enhanced. But we'll be careful. Nat, Nicki and Whitney will ride double with us. We'll take care of them. And I won't show off — I promise."

"Go have fun, My Wife. Just come back to me in one piece."

Arlene turned to leave the garage, then turned back to her father. "We're going to lay out a trail — well, actually two trails. A short one and a long one. That way everyone won't just be riding around everywhere and maybe running into each other."

"Just stay away from the bluffs, and the front, of course. No use tempting the abyss," he joked. "Your mom said you guys were going to bring in the guests when they arrive on the helicopters, right?"

"Yeah, Dad. We've got the Escalades and the Expedition ready to go. Dave and I blew off the helipad and the other drive that circles around behind the basement to the front, plus all the area by the front door so the guests won't have to step on snow and get their expensive shoes wet," she finished, laughing. "The steps are clear of ice, also. Of course, if it keeps snowing like this, we'll have to blow everything again, shortly."

-------

Jeff was walking down one of the hallways on the second floor, making sure the doors to the new almost-completed classrooms were locked and none of the construction showed, when Susan hurried to catch up to him. "Can I speak with you for a minute, Jeff?" she called out as she neared him.

Jeff stopped and turned to her. "Now that sounds awfully formal," he teased.

"Jeff, I..."

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her onto a long window seat, pushed the drapes back a little so they could watch the falling snow, and turned his body more in her direction, still holding her hand. "Now what's up? And why the serious expression?"

Susan had her little speech rehearsed; knew exactly what she was going to say — until he looked at her. "Jeff, I ... that is ... Oh, crap," she finished, putting her face in her hands.

Jeff pulled her into his arms as her tears started. "Hush, hush," he whispered into her ear as the tears became sobs. "Whatever is bothering you, we'll fix it together. I love you, you know."

There was a gasp right in the middle of a sob, and her body slumped against him. Jeff thought he heard an "I love you, too," interspersed with the sobs, but it was more a guess than anything else. Undecided what she had said, he just held her tighter and gently rocked her as he had done while the party was going on and she had fallen asleep in his arms.

She didn't fall asleep this time, but the sobs eventually diminished and became snuffles. He pulled his shirt up and wiped her face with it, noting that she apparently didn't have any makeup on — didn't need any.

Finally, when the tears were gone, she looked up at him. "I love you, too," she got out, her voice shaking. "I tried really hard not to. I've always been attracted to you. I ... I ... When I heard you and Diana making love just after you were married, it made me furious. It took a long time for me to realize that I was jealous. I was jealous of my daughter — and I had a husband that I was never unfaithful to. I took it all out on you. I found fault in everything you did. I tried to hate you for taking my daughter's childhood away."

Susan sat for a moment, then, "Oh, deep down, I knew that Diana was just as much at fault, but I put all the blame on you..."

Jeff touched his lips to hers for a moment, startling her — pleasing her. "Rightly so, Mom; the blame that is. I wanted her for my mate. I didn't know I was a Prime back then. Had no idea what a Prime was — maybe still don't really know. I could have pulled out of Di before I came. But pregnant, she would probably have to marry me. I swear I could feel she was fertile. I wasn't going to take the chance that she would slip away from me. I knew she was the one for me the instant I first laid eyes on her. Yeah, I certainly didn't have all this planned out, and had every intention of pulling out of her until about three strokes from the end. Then it hit me. She would be mine. Damn the torpedoes — full speed ahead."

"You didn't have it planned out, but you knew you wanted her that much?" Susan asked, incredulously. "You must have had some sort of plan even way back then?"

Jeff chuckled. "Hardly. But the core of the idea struck me. Di would be mine. I felt a ... bond with her, and that bond has only increased in strength since then. But the thing with Jack frayed it badly for a time. I couldn't understand why she would do that to me. But Arlene gave herself to me in an effort to sidetrack my thoughts about divorce, then after Little One and I began to communicate a little better, I realized why Di — and Arlene — had been so easy for Jack to seduce. Little One had begun enhancing their bodies, and their sexual reactions were enhanced right along with their bodies. Di and Arlene didn't know this, and consequently, were easy pickings for Jack."

Jeff kissed Susan's nose, causing her to smile, then, "Di is a Queen; always has been; just as you are; just as Arlene is."

Susan pushed back to look up into his face. "Queen? I'm not a Queen. I don't even have a husband."

Jeff sighed a little, then, "Di and I have gone over this again and again. I've tried to decipher as best I can what Little One tells me about it. There are two types of Queens. One comes about during a marriage or mating, particularly when the, for lack of a better term, primary woman decides to add other women to the relationship. In other words begins her mate's harem. His — the Alpha's — influence through his pheromones and mental processes guide this, and certain effects come about through Little One's enhancement process she has used on the women. Through this method, Evie is Dave's Queen.

"The second type is generally rare in Little One's society. I'm not sure about it here. Anyway, there are natural born Queens. I think that one of the traits that exemplifies them is the ability to lactate, and not just when they're nursing. It's a constant thing. Di has lactated since she was thirteen, and Arlene only started a little later in life. As you know, Diana frustrated a couple of doctors when none of their drugs worked on a permanent basis. She would stop for a while, then her body seemed to overcome the medicine and she would start back producing milk. I'm beginning to realize there is a reason for this, but I won't go into that right now. In the beginning, Di was frustrated about the constant lactation, but things have changed now. Arlene, however, reveled in it — still does, now even more so.

"I remember Diana telling me it was a genetic thing, because you lactated since puberty, if I remember correctly. You're a natural Queen, My Love. You just didn't find your Alpha."

"Until now," Susan whispered, her face instantly scarlet, "but the thought of you and ... Arlene still bothers me. I can't imagine you — having sex — with your daughter. It just goes against everything I was brought up to believe in." She sighed, grabbing his hand again. "I've talked to Arlene and Diana. Ad nauseam, I imagine they would describe it," she giggled self-consciously, "but I just can't imagine being in that big bed with all your wives with you ... fucking Arlene."

"And that might be where the crux of the matter lies," Jeff whispered as he pulled her to him again, trying to project his love to her. "Sure we 'fuck, ' as you put it, from time to time. 'Sport fucking, ' the girls call it. They'll find me sitting somewhere, yank my pants down and crawl on, bouncing up and down on my cock while shoving a titty in my mouth. And yeah, it produces orgasms for all of us that completely blows our minds, but ... most of the time we make love. And when we're all in that big bed, you included, as you just commented, and all my mates are touching each other. That chain will include me and whomever I'm making love to at the moment. When I make love to my daughter, you'll not just see, but feel the love between us — and all the rest of us. Afterward, chances are you'll have an entirely different perspective on our relationship."

They kissed with first Jeff's tongue teasing her, then Susan startled him as her tongue began to tentatively explore, too. For a long while, she never pulled back, never showed any sign of wanting to break the kiss. Rather, she pressed her braless breasts against his chest, pushing herself to him. Then after a long moment, out of the blue it seemed to Jeff, she pulled back just enough to whisper, "Take me. Make me yours. I can't stand it any longer."

Smiling, Susan pulled him over on top of her, managing to squirm her top above her breasts. "Suck them," she whispered. "Drink my milk like you do Diana's and Arlene's. Please."

When Jeff locked his lips around a turgid nipple, Susan gasped out, and shortly came, her groin squirming against him and his face pulled hard to her breast. "Oh, my goodness," she panted as the orgasm finally subsided.

"Your milk tastes good," he said around a spurting nipple.

After a couple moments, when she realized she was starting to build again, she pulled his head up to stare into his eyes yet again. "Take me," she quietly said. "Put that fabulous cock in me. Your wives keep telling me that the feeling is beyond description. Take me before I wake up and change my mind."

Jeff was sure he hadn't released any pheromones, yet she was acting like he had.

Diana walked up to them, putting her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Do it, My Love. She has waited for you for years — waited without even knowing who she was waiting for. Take her and make her whole."

Susan didn't even wonder anymore how Diana had found her husband.

The three of them got enough of the couple's clothes off, and Jeff eased between Susan's legs, his cock now at her entrance with the guidance of Diana's hand. The Prime hesitated, looking down at Susan's flushed face. "You sure about this? There's no going back. No way can I keep back my pheromones when I enter you. We'll be joined forever..."

"Now Jeff. Now, " Susan hissed out, frustration from his hesitation evident in her voice.

He pushed.

-------

"Oh, my," Helen suddenly hissed out as she and Evie sat talking. The genius got unsteadily to her feet, fighting the orgasm that threatened to overcome her.

"Wow," Evie agreed, feeling it a lot less, but feeling it, nevertheless. "Who was it?"

"Gotta go," Helen mumbled as she left Evie's apartment and headed for the elevator, her panties already soaked.

-------

The girls had just parked the snowmobiles. "Who was that?" Jennie gasped out, shivering.

Arlene, Jennie, Melissa and Ann all looked at each other and stressed out at the same time, "Meemi."

"Meemi, what?" Nat asked, concerned.

Arlene turned to the three. "Dad just fucked her. She's his now."

"But how did you know?" Nicki asked, almost frazzled.

"When he takes you, you'll know too," Ann said, hugging Nicki.

The young wives started toward the back door, but Nat, Nicki and Whitney held back. Arlene stopped and turned toward them, motioning, "Come on, this is a time for rejoicing. Meemi is going to want us near. You'll be a wife soon, and you're her granddaughters. You're part of us too. Come on. Hurry."



-------

Chapter 85

Diana came back with a washcloth and helped her mother put it between her legs, and also helped her get her panties and shorts back on. Susan was still mostly out of it, her motions and actions slow and somewhat uncoordinated.

"You really blew her away," Diana said to her husband as she sat and pulled her mother into her arms.

"She really blew me away, too," Jeff said as he touched Susan's cheek. "I was aware enough to support most of my weight on my forearms, but all I wanted to do was sleep."

"Both of you just laid there for quite awhile," Diana said with a grin.

"You fainted, too?" Susan said to Jeff, her voice quiet and still a little slurred.

Jeff chuckled. "It got a wee bit intense there at the end, my dear mother-in-law. And yeah, I guess I fainted, too."

Diana squeezed her mother a little harder for a second. "You need to take that as a real compliment, Mom. He doesn't do that much. And you two weren't the only ones to pass out, either," she laughed.

Kayla, Jeff's younger wives and the new girls turned the corner in the hallway. They had obviously been talking, and their laughter had just finished as they looked at each other, giggled a little, then came on over to the others.

"What's so funny?" Diana asked, looking from first one to the other.

Kayla and Laura glanced at each other and burst out laughing again.

"What?" Diana said, now grinning herself.

Kayla looked thoughtful for a second, then, "Oh, heck, I might as well tell it. Somebody, " she said, looking at Susan, "had one heck of an orgasm. I was ... sitting on the commode, peeing. I," she giggled, "squirted pee all over the floor and fell off the commode. At least I didn't get my shorts and panties wet, but for the life of me, I can't figure out how."

Susan put her hands to her face, possibly to hide the blush that seemed to be trying to set it on fire. "I know you told me that all Jeff's wives could feel the other wives' orgasms, but I guess I never really believed..."

Helen and Laura walked up. "Welcome to the harem, Susan," Helen said.

Laura reached over and hugged Susan, and all Jeff's wives followed suit. The new girls were undecided what to do, and embarrassed by an overload of private information.

"Come here, you three," Susan said, motioning to them.

"You'll be wives soon," Diana offered. "Then you'll be able to understand. So don't be embarrassed."

After Susan had hugged the girls, Arlene took her Meemi's hand. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

Susan started to stand, but Jeff pulled her back for a moment, pressing his lips gently to hers for a little bit. "Thank you."

Arlene yanked on Susan's hand to get her attention, then pulled her to her feet. "All right, enough of the lovey-dovey stuff. Let's go."

At the first suite they came to, Arlene used her card to open the door. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Ann has gone for clean panties. Go sit on the commode and let some of his sperm drain out."

"It's all over the seat, too..."

"Was," Arlene interrupted. "Jennie is cleaning it up."

"I'm so embarrassed. I didn't know we were doing it in front of the whole world," Susan said as Arlene guided her Meemi into the bathroom. "And here I am going to the bathroom after what's happened, and I'm going with my granddaughter. I can't do this, I..."

"Sit," Arlene said, matter-of-factly.

"What? I can't sit there at let his..."

"Sperm, semen, come," Arlene offered.

" ... come drain out of me in front of you. You're my granddaughter..."

"Yep, we've already covered that," Arlene said, fighting the grin that wanted to take over her face. "You're my grandmother." Arlene didn't make any effort to leave. "I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to be alone right now, and there's no one here who loves you more than I do. So sit and push."

Susan just stood and looked at Arlene. After a moment, Arlene motioned and Susan sighed, pulled down her shorts, hesitated, then pulled down her panties, stepping out of both, the washcloth going with her panties.

"Better sit down," Arlene said. "Trust me; he comes a lot."

Susan sat on the commode. "I know that. I could feel him spurting inside me, then his stuff running down the crack of my ... butt. By then, I couldn't seem to get enough air, though, and the orgasm just kept building. Maybe I was hyperventilating or something. I don't remember much after that. I'm uncomfortable with this," Susan whined, just before there was an embarrassing sound and a gush of semen slid out of her and began plopping into the water.

"Push," Arlene said.

Susan's head snapped up from where she had been staring between her legs. "I am a grown woman. I have had sex before. I don't need instructions."

"Good," Arlene answered, unperturbed. "Then push again. Otherwise, you're going to be dripping come for the rest of the day. Dad comes a lot."

"I'm not comfortable with this," Susan complained again.

"You'll be more accustomed to everything after we all make love in our bed tonight," Arlene said, handing her grandmother a dampened washcloth.

Arlene leaned against the wall. "You're one of us now, so you sleep with us. Didn't you expect that?"

Susan pushed again and watched the thick semen drip from between her swollen pussylips. After a moment, she cleaned herself. "I went to talk to Jeff. The first thing I knew, I was kissing him. Then I just told him everything, and suddenly he was making love to me. I've never been that ... hot in my life. I couldn't stop. I wanted him. I had to have him. I ... I felt his love for me. Now I'm one of his ... his..."

"Mates," Arlene offered. "Mates who love him and who he loves."

Ann walked in with a pair of panties. "Welcome to the harem, Meemi," Ann said, barely holding back a grin.

"Can't I have a little privacy?" Susan said.

"No," both girls chorused.

"Can't have one of our soon-to-be sister-wives going off embarrassed. And after Dad takes care of all of us tonight, a little come draining out of a pussy won't bother you a bit."

Susan would have blushed again, but she was all out of blushes for the time being.

-------

"Hi Jeff, this is Bill. I told Reed and his wife I would call for them. Kathy, Jill and I will be headed back to Saint Louis in a couple of minutes, and our passengers are loading on the copters as we speak. Only change is one extra female: the fiancée of Corrigan's son. You might want to tell Frank and Margaret. Don't know why she wasn't on the list, but she's legit. Good luck with the son; he's a bit ... obnoxious. Anyway, the copters should be in the air in about ten minutes."

"You going to make another trip?"

"Yeah. We have time and everything is scheduled. Guests will be arriving late, though. But better that than all at once, I suspect."

"Okay. You guys take care. See you later tonight?"

"I wish. But no, we're going to stay in Boulder tonight and leave out very early in the morning. You're going to be busy tomorrow. With the chartered flights, the ones coming commercial and our trips, you're going to be hit with a lot of people in a short period of time. See you at the wedding."

Jeff hung up the phone and relayed the message to Diana, Arlene and Kayla who were in the living room with him. Then picking up the phone, he punched the PA button and said, "FIRST GROUPS ARE LEAVING BOULDER NOW."

"Still snowing some," Jeff remarked as he put the phone back in its cradle and looked at the helipad via the monitor. "Probably need to make another pass with the snow blower before the guests get here."

"Yes, Sir," Arlene said, as she braced and snapped him an astonishingly professional salute that made Jeff wonder where she had learned it. Then he saw the look of pride on Kayla's face.

Jeff started to make a remark about the salute, when Diana gently tapped him in the side with an elbow. Smiling, he returned the salute.

When Arlene was out the living room door, Diana quietly said, "Let her have her fun. Not only is she just sixteen, but she ... almost died a couple of days ago. I imagine a lot of people would be practically a basket case after what she went through, but she came back with flying colors."

"But she's not all the way back yet, is she?" Jeff said as he told the AI to lock onto Arlene and follow her as she ran out the back and started the riding snow blower.

Diana didn't answer, just put her arm around her husband's waist and hugged herself to him. After a moment, she moved around to face her husband and took his face in her hands, tiptoeing to kiss him. "The first groups will be here soon." Then taking a breath, "Here we go."

-------

The minutes drifted by. "Are Margaret and Frank going to meet the guests as they come in?" Jeff asked his Queen.

"We talked about it, but Margaret has enough on her plate right now, and Frank is working on being a basket case," she chuckled. "We agreed that they will meet the guests later tonight. The two lovebirds will eat in their suite tonight, then after his bachelor party, Frank will spend the night in a suite on our end of the building, not seeing his bride until she comes down the aisle tomorrow night."

Jeff stared at the monitor, its picture showing the helipad and his daughter fighting a losing battle on the big snow blower, the snow-covered mountains for a backdrop. "I..."

"Chill out, My Love," Diana said. "Dave and some of your younger wives will meet the copters when they come in. After the guests and their luggage are scanned, the guests will take the short ride from the helipad to the front door in an Escalade, driven by one of your wives. Dave will bring the luggage in your Expedition. This is going to work, Husband. Just meet the guests as they are booked in at the front desk, introduce yourself as the concierge, and tell them your job is to make sure they have a nice visit, or something like that. Charm the women, drop a few pheromones to get them in the mood, and do whatever you do with men to make them like you so much. This is going to work fabulously, Husband. And it's going to be so much fun."

Yeah,  Jeff thought, like going to the dentist, although he had never lost a tooth or had a cavity in his life. The smile he tried to return to his wife didn't quite make it to his eyes.

Laughing, Diana tried to tickle him, then slapped his butt playfully and left to go make sure the chef could find everything he needed for the special dessert he insisted on making.

Damn, her ass looks good in that uniform,  Jeff thought as the phone rang with Reed asking permission for him and his wife to land with two helicopters full of guests for the wedding.

-------

Jennie stood behind the elegant reception desk in the beautifully appointed foyer, nervous, but trying very hard not to show it.

The Corrigans entered with James Corrigan in the lead and his son, Gregg, following closely behind. James and his wife appeared to be in their late forties or early fifties, both a little overweight. James' wife, Amanda, and Gregg's fianceé, Tina, were walking behind the men, chatting. Gregg was about 5 feet 10 inches and in good physical shape, although he seemed a little hyper. Tina was a petite 5 feet 2 inches, with small, jutting breasts and flowing coal-black hair almost to her waist.

"Welcome to the Matthews Mountain Retreat. May I have your name, Sir?" Jennie addressed the older Corrigan.

When Corrigan told her, her heart rate picked up. These are the ones that Bill told Jeff about. They were scheduled for a double suite, with the son in the other bedroom. Now I have to ask if the fiancée needs a room of her own, or if she is going to stay with the young man. If I don't ask and put them together, I might embarrass her. If I assign her a separate room, and she doesn't want it, I'll insult her that way, too. Crap, it would have to be me.

Jennie took a shot at it. "Will the double suite be sufficient, Sir? Or will you be needing another room?"

"What?" Gregg said, a little louder than was necessary. "We don't need another room? Why would you ask? Are you trying to insult me?"

Jennie's face colored, as did Tina's. "Certainly not, Sir." Jennie already had the room cards ready and slid four of them onto the counter near the senior Corrigan. "Here are the door cards, Sir, and here's a map of the retreat. The second sheet is a list of the amenities we will offer before the wedding, along with the time meals will be served, as well as other information about the retreat. The bar will be open after 7:00 P.M. and will close at midnight. We hope you will enjoy your stay."

"Come on. Let's go," Gregg said, snatching a key card and the map. "Where's our luggage?"

"Here, Sir," Melissa said as she stood by the elevator. "Please go on up, and I'll follow shortly with the dolly."

Things went smoothly as the Matthews women, assisted by Dave's wives, processed the group of guests and got them settled in their suites.

When the last guest had disappeared up the elevator, Jennie sighed with relief as she and Ann leaned on the counter. "I had no idea. Alesha does this crap every day, plus running the lodge. No wonder she's tired when she gets home. If all the guests had been like that prick, I would never have gotten through it. And ... we've barely started. I wanted to use that asshole for a practice dummy."

"Probably do him good," Jeff said as he walked up. "I was talking to one of the guests as she got out of the SUV, and didn't hear what that idiot said to you, but Melissa told me. I guess Bill was right about him. There has to be one in every crowd. Shall I have a talk with him?"

Jennie laughed. "Goodness no. It was just the first group I had booked in, and I was nervous. I'll grow a thicker skin before this is over."

"I know you volunteered for the front desk, but there are plenty of us who can use the program..."

"I'll let someone relieve me for a while tomorrow, but I want to do most of it."

Jeff hugged her. "There will be problems. That's life. Just handle them and go on. We'll back you. You know that."

Jennie hugged him back. "Can I kick his ass?"

Jeff laughed and went looking for Diana.

-------

In what seemed like no time at all, another group came in from one of the chartered flights from California. With Ann's assistance, Jennie was ready this time. With the help of the lists that Wainwright had provided, the two girls had key cards and maps lined up on the counter for the next group coming in. It was just a matter of checking them in on the computer system. Suddenly, the girls were having fun.

-------

An hour or so later, Frank and Margaret were walking hand-in-hand down one of the second floor corridors, reminiscing about when they built the retreat; just being alone and enjoying each other. The door to the Corrigan suite was flung open and Tina Hamilton, Gregg Corrigan's fiancée, came out, tears streaming down her face. The wheeled suitcase she was pulling hung against the side of the door and she turned in frustration to free the case.

When she yanked it loose and turned, she stumbled into Frank. "Careful there, Young Lady," Frank said, steadying her.

Margaret saw the tears first, "What's wrong, My Dear," she said, concern strong in her voice.

"Nothing. Nothing," Tina said as she shook her head and took a gasping breath. "I just need to get to the front desk and get another room until I can get back home. I'm not going to be with that pig anymore," she choked out, frustration and something else evident in her voice. "This was all a mistake. One of the worse mistakes I've ever made in my life." Looking first one way, then the other, she focused on Frank, "Can you tell me which way the elevator is? I left the map in there with ... him. I'm upset and I can't remember..."

By then, Frank had seen the red spot on Tina's cheek, along with what already appeared to be the beginning of swelling. "We'll certainly get you another room. But first, tell me what happened in there."

"Nothing. Nothing that I should have allowed to happen. I shouldn't be here. I don't even know the couple that is getting married. Mr. and Mrs. Corrigan say they are nice people, though. Gregg insisted that I come after I agreed to marry him. I'm not even sure I have enough left on my credit card to buy airfare back to Saint Louis, but I'm not sleeping with that ass again, and I'm surely not riding back to Saint Louis with him."

"Your face..." Margaret said to the pretty young woman.

"It's nothing. I can cover it with makeup. I just need another room until after the wedding, then I'll sort out the rest of it. I don't want to cause any disruption and spoil the Wainwright's wedding. Please, just point me toward the elevator and I'll see about getting another room. I've been lost ever since we got off on this floor. I'm afraid I'm not very good with direction."

Margaret reached over and took Tina's hand. "I stayed lost in here for the first month after we built the place," she exaggerated. "Come on. We'll put you in a suite in the Matthews' wing on the first floor. That way you won't have to be around Gregg. We'll get to the bottom of this. Frank, take her bag, please," Margaret finished as she urged Tina in the direction of the elevator.

"'Built the place?'" Tina said, not moving.

Margaret chuckled and nodded her head toward her lover. "This is Frank Wainwright, my fiancé. And I'm Margaret Stanford. Tomorrow night, I'll be Mrs. Frank Wainwright," she finished, looking at Frank with love.

"Oh, my gosh," Tina said, covering her face with her hands. "I didn't mean..."

"Hush, Child," Margaret urged as the tears started again. "We're so glad we were here when you needed us. Now let's get..."

"What the hell is going on here?" Gregg Corrigan snarled as he stepped into the hallway and grabbed Tina's arm. "I go to the bathroom, and you grab your stuff and run out the door. I brought you down here with me, and you're not going anywhere. What's the matter? Already found somebody richer than me to sink your whoring claws into?"

Tina slapped him. "I'm not a whore, and you know it," she screamed out. "I should never have let you talk me into sleeping with you. As a matter of fact, I still can't remember how I wound up in bed with you. I have no memory of that night at all. The more I think about it, the more I think you drugged me."

"Fuck you, Bitch," he yelled. "I don't have to drug women to get them into my bed," he finished, backhanding her.

The sound of Gregg's hand hitting Tina's face almost seemed to have an echo — a much louder and stunning echo in Gregg's mind — as the heel of Frank's hand connected with the side of Gregg's head a second later. Gregg bounced off the wall and slid to the floor. Shaking his head, he stumbled to his feet and charged Frank. As Gregg swung, Frank easily shifted his head backward just enough for the blow to miss, then grabbed Gregg by his neck and groin. Lifting him as if his weight were negligible, Frank took a couple of steps and threw Gregg down the hall. Gregg landed flat on his back with a sickening thud, the wind knocked out of him.

Gregg thrashed for a moment, trying to get his breath back. By then, the senior Corrigan was in the hall with his wife only a step behind him. "What's happened?" he said, looking first at his son, then back at Frank.

Wainwright ignored him and glared at Gregg who had managed to get to his knees. "If I ever see you within twenty feet of this young lady again, I'll put you in intensive care." Wainwright spun to face James Corrigan. "Your son had already hit Tina, and she was trying to leave. He called her a whore, and she slapped him. He backhanded her really hard. I hit him, then threw him down the hall. If you want the Sheriff and the lawyers into this, we'll do it that way, otherwise, you need to get this piece of trash out of this building."

Jeff came running up. "I can have security take him to Denver and put him on a plane if you like, Frank. I've already called them."

"You promised me," Amanda Corrigan screamed at her son. "You promised me you wouldn't drink any more."

The senior Corrigan butted in with, "You've had your last chance. Go back to Saint Louis. Don't go home; go to the lake house. You're on your own from now on. We're fed up with your crap. This was the last straw. Don't bother trying to get in the house, I'm going to call security and tell them to keep you out. We'll send your things over to the lake house when we get home."

Amanda had gone back into the suite while her husband was talking. Returning, she handed Gregg his billfold. "This is all you'll need to get home. We'll bring your case when we come. I'm tired of trying to get you to quit drugs and drinking. I still love you, but it's only because you're my son. Even so, I know you've become a despicable person. I thought you had straightened up when you started dating Tina, but I guess not. You have — once again — embarrassed us in front of our friends. Get out of my sight."

Amanda turned to Wainwright. "Frank, we humbly apologize. I would never have let him come if I had thought something like this would happen..."

Margaret hugged her and quickly steered her back into the suite. "Let's let the men settle this while the three of us talk," she said, motioning for Tina to join them.

As the door closed, Gregg walked back up to them and stopped, his nose almost in Frank's face. "I'm going to sue..."

Wainwright grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall, Gregg's toes barely managing to touch the floor from time to time. "You either go with them," he said, nodding to the two "security people" jogging toward them, "or you go to jail. And ... the Sheriff of this county is a personal friend of mine, and one of his deputies lives here. Guess whose story they'll believe. Time for you to make up your mind. In other words,  leave, or I'm going to beat the fuck out of you, then have you put in jail for assaulting the young lady."

Gregg was managing to breathe, but just barely, his hands frantically clasped around Frank's. "Daddy," he squeaked.

"Don't 'Daddy' me. You're twenty-five years old. It's time you acted like a man. I'll call the airport Hyatt and reserve you a room. A room; not a suite. You arrange your own flight home. And from the looks of these gentlemen, you had better calm down before they calm you down. And you had better get sober before you get on that plane. If you get in trouble, you're on your own. I've protected you for the last time — and you had better believe that, for that my son, is a solemn promise. You better pay attention. Now get out of here. I have some apologizing to do."

Jeff turned to his two security people as Lieutenant Mayfield came jogging up. "Lieutenant, this ... gentleman needs an escort to the airport Hyatt in Denver," Jeff said, motioning to the younger Corrigan. "Just put him out in front of the hotel and come on back. Don't take any crap off him, and don't let him talk you into taking him anywhere else."

"Yes, Sir." At a nod from the lieutenant, the two security people grabbed an arm each and "escorted" Gregg toward the back stairs. His feet were touching the floor occasionally. Lieutenant Mayfield followed in their wake.

Jeff turned back to Corrigan. "They might scare the crap out of him, but they won't hurt him — much. None at all if he behaves."

Corrigan sighed as he turned to Wainwright. "Maybe that's been the problem all along. I should have let him take his lumps as he grew up. We had complaints, off and on, from school. But he always had a logical reason for everything. Then there were a couple of incidents in college. I called in some favors and got things smoothed over because I wanted him to have a good education. I had hoped that one day he would take over when I retire, but that's seeming more like a pipe dream every day. We found some drugs in his room; we have a big house, and he still lives there — did live there. I won't tolerate his striking a woman, and I told him he had used up all his chances when we found the cocaine. Maybe if those two roughed him up a little, it might wake him up before he winds up in jail."

Jeff looked Corrigan in the eye. "Unless he gets physical with them, nothing will happen. Even then, they'll handle him so easily he'll be more humiliated than anything else, probably."

Corrigan looked over at Frank. "Speaking of handling someone easily, my son is no lightweight, yet you were holding him against that wall, and mostly off his feet, with one hand."

"Ah, just adrenalin," Frank said, trying to sluff it off.

"You look younger, Frank. More fit. I didn't see you throw him down the hall, but unless you had moved, you threw him one hell of a long way."

"I guess I just lost it when he hit her. Most of what happened after that is a blur," Frank lied. "Guess, I got pissed."

"Frank, I want to apologize. Hell, that sounds trite. I don't know what to say..."

"No use apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong. Matter of fact, just the opposite. Now why don't we go get a cup of coffee, or something stronger if you like, and give the ladies time to get acquainted."

Diana came hurrying down the hall. "In there," Jeff said, motioning to Corrigan's door.



-------

Chapter 86



{pr}EARLY THURSDAY NIGHT

Frank, Jeff, Dave, Diana, Margaret and Evie were relaxing in one of the smaller sitting rooms on the first floor away from the guests. Dave and Evie were sitting together on a love seat. The other two couples sat on a couch. "Frank, my friend, I think you have lied to me," Jeff said with just a taste of amusement in his voice.

"What? No way. What do you mean?" Wainwright quickly answered, concern obvious.

"When we were first getting acquainted, seems to me that you made some comments about not being ... physical, I guess you could say. Yet, you didn't seem to have any problem handling someone who's very little past being half your age. Also," Jeff continued as he leaned over and grabbed Frank's hand to turn it over and examine it, "there isn't a mark on your knuckles, even though I saw you obviously rubbing them as we talked to Corrigan after you hit his son. Was that misdirection?" he chuckled. "You didn't hit that prick with your fist, did you?"

Margaret chortled. "Fess up, My Love."

"Jeff, I..." Frank started.

But Margaret decided to tell it herself. "His dad started him out with martial arts instructors when he was six. Built him a dojo in their home and had the instructors sign a contract which had a strict secrecy clause."

"But why all the secrecy?" Diana asked, then, "Ohh. I think I understand."

"Yeah, and you're right," Margaret continued. "What a normal person might get away with without a moment's thought, could with a rich family, possibly result in a lawsuit just because of the money. The deep pocket syndrome. Even a kids' fight in school could lead to daddy being sued because he taught his son how to fight — how to, oh horrors, maim and kill," she said, emphasizing the words. "That's how the lawyers would probably describe it in court, anyway. Consequently, Frank never received a belt, other than a beginner's white belt to hold the ghi together, nor has there ever been a record of his training."

Jeff sat back laughing. "Like I said, you lied to me, Frank." Jeff looked at his Alpha, the grin still on the Prime's face. "So instead of skinning your knuckles on his head, you hit him with a strike using the heel of your hand, but daddy will always think you just hit him with your fist because he saw you rubbing your knuckles; martial arts never even crossed his mind. Now throwing Shithead down the hall was even more of a misdirection. I'll bet he didn't expect that. Most guys couldn't even do it," he chuckled. "But slamming into that floor was every bit as devastating, or more so, than being hit by a fist."

"He did have a startled look on his face when I picked him up," Frank laughed.

"And no one will think to sue you because of the use of martial arts," Diana injected. "Beautiful."

"I could never have thrown him without Little One's enhancement, though."

"We're going to test that enhancement tomorrow night," Margaret said as she held Franks upper arm tightly.

"You're going to kill me, Woman," Frank said, just before there was a knock on the door.

"It's Tina," Margaret said, jumping to her feet. "I told her where we would be and asked her to come and join us as soon as she was settled in her new suite."

Margaret opened the door and ushered Tina in, introduced her to Dave and Evie, then seated her between Frank and herself. Everyone talked for a while, Tina already having been enlightened about the serving people actually being the family who owned the retreat.

Margaret stood and pulled her fiancé to his feet. Kissing him tenderly, she touched his face one last time as she prepared to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow night when I walk down that aisle. Think of me."

Frank chuckled. "As if I could think of anything else."

"As we go by, I'll tell the bartender to close the bar down, and also tell him he has free time until tomorrow night. You guys go ahead with your bachelor party. We women are going to have my bachelorette party, and I know you guys are going to have a good time, too. Just don't get too drunk," she teased.

"Drunk?" Wainwright laughed, almost mentioning that Little One had made alcohol taste bad to him, but realized a half second before he voiced the thought that Tina was in the room. He stopped before the blocks locked down, but even so, he felt a nudge in his mind. "Uh, no way. I don't want to have a hangover tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Mr. Wainwright. And again, thank you for saving me," Tina said as she stood up.

"It's Frank, remember?" Wainwright said, his voice softening without his realizing it. "See you tomorrow."

Diana, Evie, and Tina went out the door with Margaret bringing up the rear. Just before she turned right into the hallway, she looked back over her shoulder and winked.

"Yep," Jeff said as soon as the door was closed. "Somebody I know dropped the seine overboard before I even had a chance to get in the boat." (Jeff was referring to an earlier comment he had made about throwing out the "seine" to catch another wife for Frank.)

"What?" Frank said, turning back to Jeff as what his Prime had said sunk in. "No way. She's..."

"One hell of a pretty girl," Jeff interjected. "Her asshole boyfriend is history, and your mate obviously thinks she's great. Guess what they're going to be talking about at that hen party tonight, huh. And by the way, you stumbled at rehearsal. I'm going to laugh my ass off if you do that tomorrow night."

"Fuck, I was scared shitless," Frank griped, "and it was just a damn rehearsal."

"Just so you don't faint tomorrow night," Dave said.

"Faint? I'm not going to faint — well, I hope I don't."

"That's all right," Jeff said, laughing. "We'll prop you up and I'll try out my ventriloquist skills. I do," he finished, trying to keep from moving his lips while sounding a little like Frank — a very little.

Frank glared at him.

"So what are we going to do tonight," Dave asked, "drink Pepsi and just tease Frank? Seems kind of tame for a bachelors party."

"What about tomorrow night?" Frank said. "I tried a sip of my best champagne. It tasted like..."

"Piss," Dave offered.

"I don't think I know what piss tastes like," Frank answered.

"Bullshit," Dave said. "I know damn well you eat pussy. So, unless she's just gotten out of the shower, you've tasted a little urine on occasion."

"Did anybody ever tell him he's gross?" Frank said as he looked to Jeff for help.

Jeff ignored him. "Di bought some ginger ale that looks like champagne. She's going to put it in champagne bottles and keep it separate for us to drink at the wedding reception."

"Why bother?" Dave said. "If anybody asks, just tell them we don't drink."

"Ever tried to tell a drunk you don't drink?" Jeff laughed. "You've suddenly become a project. 'Just one taste. Oh, you'll love it.' That sort of thing. Booze will be flowing. Expensive booze," he laughed as he looked at Frank. "And the owner of that expensive booze can't even drink it anymore. Life's a bitch," he laughed.

"Do you have any idea how many years I've been collecting that wine?" Frank groused, "Not to mention everything else," he finished, a bit of morose slipping through.

They ignored him, yet again.

Frank's expression changed to a fake glower, "So we're just going to sit around tonight drinking Pepsi while you two harass me?"

"Of course not," Dave said, pushing over a serving cart loaded with food. "We're going to drink Pepsi, and eat a bunch of food our wives have prepared for us... and harass you."

"And watch a porn movie or two that my Queen has ordered for us," Jeff said as he picked up the remote.

"Porn?" Frank said, selecting a big piece of fudge. "You have nine wives and you're going to watch porn? Seems a little on the ... redundant side. And where's Sheriff Tate? I thought he would be here."

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you. He called earlier and said that a bunch of citizens were going to have a meeting about drugs in their neighborhood. Kind of a mandatory show for Tate and his wife. He sent his apologies..."

"Wow!" Dave interrupted, as the video came on. "Look at the tits on that gal."

"Tits? Those aren't tits," Frank said as he cut himself a piece of cake to go with the fudge. "Those are silicone buckets. Lots and lots of silicone. And if Evie catches you staring at them, she'll cut your balls off."

"Big buckets, though," Dave muttered.

"Well..." Jeff said as he flopped back down on the couch and put his feet up on an ottoman, two freshly baked doughnuts in his hands, "actually, Evie helped Diana and my wives pick out the videos."

Frank sat and took a bite of the cake before saying, "I think Margaret is a little more conservative than that..."

"Bullshit," Jeff said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of doughnut. "Guaranteed she's sitting in your suite right now — the night before her wedding — talking to your second wife. How long do you suppose it will be before Tina knows the size of your dick and exactly what it looks like, hmmm? Then she'll hear about your love-making techniques and just how good a fuck you are."

"No fucking way," Frank said, shaking his head. "No fucking way." But his voice somehow didn't sound nearly as positive as the words he used.

-------

The men had stuffed themselves with chips, a dip that Laura had made to go with the chips, some sort of tiny wieners in something that tasted vaguely of barbeque sauce but with a kick of hot peppers in it, plus a variety of finger foods, not to say anything about the sweets that they had already sampled. Suddenly, the door opened and Margaret marched in, an obviously stressed Tina in hand, the other women following.

Dave, looking guilty, hastily shut the video off.

"You've got to do something, Frank," Margaret demanded, the women ignoring the video.

"What..." Frank got out as he jumped to his feet, narrowly missing Jeff's glass of Pepsi sitting on the floor. "Uh, Honey, I thought I couldn't see you until the wedding. Tradition..."

Jeff snatched his drink out of the way as Margaret continued, "Screw tradition," she snapped. " Maybe you need to go into Denver and really beat the shit out of that prick."

"Honey, calm down," Frank said as he took the few steps to his fiancée. "What's going on?"

Margaret glanced around her, then grabbed Frank's hand and dragged him into the hallway, closing the door behind them, leaving Tina and the others standing there.

In the hallway, Margaret fumed as she responded to Frank's question, "What's going on is that prick drugged Tina. She woke up, or came to herself if you prefer, with him fucking her the next morning. He told her he loved her. She had developed an amount of affection for him over the last months while they were dating. He had asked her several times to marry him, but suddenly she had already made love to him — or so she thought. But all she could remember drinking was part of a glass of wine. Anyway, to make a long story short, they had sex several more times during the weekend. Finally, she agreed to marry him.

"Frank, you've got to remember that he really wooed this girl, snowed her with expensive gifts, the whole works. Yet before that night, they hadn't done anything more than a little above the waist petting. Then, she wakes up and is suddenly his. Well, his mister-nice-guy act quickly fell by the wayside. The coup de grâce was a video he had made while he had her drugged. I assume from her description of the video and the loss of memory, that it must have been some type of date rape drug that he used on her. She is totally humiliated about the things she did, not to say anything about the enthusiasm she exhibited while she was doing them — all recorded on the video. He has told her he'll put the recording on the Internet and give a copy to her friends and family if she ever tries to leave him. She took a giant step when she charged out into that hallway today. We've got to help her."

"Where's the video?"

"She said he brought a copy with him on a DVD. It's also on his desktop at home, and maybe on his laptop, too."

Frank took time out to lean over and gently kiss Margaret's lips for a moment. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too." There was a moment's hesitation, then, "Baby ... she's the one."

Wainwright knew what she meant. The guys had certainly been kidding him enough, but he tried to stall her, anyway. "Who? What do you mean?"

Margaret smiled at him. "I want her, My Darling. I want her for our second wife."

"Margaret, you just met the girl today. How could you know..."

"I don't know how I do — I just do. Trust me on this, Frank. You know that when I have a feeling, it's always right. I have that feeling now. I think you feel it too."

Frank started to shake his head, but Margaret was too familiar with him for him to even get started with denial. "Damnit, Frank. I've trusted you time and again when you have had feelings about business. You know what I mean." Then with emphasis, she is the one. "And I know you feel it, too. I know you do. You're an Alpha. Look at all the wives that Jeff has. He's done that in just a few months — or rather, Diana has. Can you honestly say that Jeff doesn't love each and every one of them? Can you, huh?"

"Certainly not," Frank sighed. "He worships the ground they walk on, but..."

"But nothing, Frank. My breasts are tingling."

"Your breasts? Tingling? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Never mind," she said, a curious smile on her face. "Just get that DVD and take care of the videos back in Saint Louis."

"Margaret, how..."

Margaret turned to snatch open the door to the sitting room. "Tina, Honey, come here, please."

Tina stepped tentatively into the hallway. When the door was again closed, Margaret took Tina's hand and moved her into Frank's personal space. "Kiss him, please."

Tina's eyes got big.

"Tina, please. Just trust me. Remember our talk, and just kiss him. Really kiss him. It's extremely important that you do."

Frank was looking a bit shell-shocked himself.

"Do it Frank. Do not let me down. Kiss this beautiful young woman. Show her what it's like to be kissed by an Alpha — please."

With one last look at Margaret, Frank focused on the nervous girl in front of him. "Tina, I..."

"Damnit, Frank, do it now."

Tina reached up and put her arms around Frank's neck as he pulled her to him. Their lips came together. There was a startled, almost flinch, from both of them. The kiss heightened. Tina's lips parted slightly. Time moved onward.

When it seemed that the kiss would go on all night, "Okay. Okay, that's enough," Margaret said, pushing on Frank's shoulder to attract his attention.

Frank and Tina broke apart. It was difficult to tell which of the two was blushing more.

"She's the one, Honey," Margaret said as she took Tina's place and kissed her husband-to-be. "Now take care of this little mess she's gotten herself into."

-------

Wainwright stepped back inside the sitting room as the women filed out. After quickly outlining the situation to Jeff and Dave, "I'm going up and get that DVD out of Gregg's case," Frank said.

"What about the computer files?" Jeff asked.

Wainwright's face set. "I'll talk to Corrigan. His companies and my companies have done a lot of business over the years — mutually profitable. I could really hurt him financially if I set my mind to it, and he knows it. I hope it won't come to that, but those files will be destroyed one way or the other," he finished with grim determination.

Jeff smiled at his friend/brother-Alpha, "And this girl is..."

Wainwright sighed, "Going to be my next wife," he finished, glaring at both Jeff and Dave, expecting them to, at the very least, kid him unmercifully.

Instead of kidding him, Jeff and Dave stood. "Guess we need to go see Corrigan," Dave said, his voice matter-of-fact.

Wainwright put up his hand in a little gesture, "No, no. I don't think that's necessary."

"Bullshit," Dave said, his voice tight. "Let Jeff have a talk, nose to nose, with Corrigan. We clean the piss off the floor, and go from there."

Jeff's gaze shifted to Dave for a moment. "Piss?" he said.

"Yeah. Nobody could stand up to a Prime under those circumstances. He'll piss his pants, then do whatever you say, just happy to be alive."

Jeff's look was unfathomable. "You've been smoking something, My Friend."

Frank didn't seem to hear Jeff's remark, but said to Dave, "We'll do that, if Corrigan doesn't see reason."

Margaret opened the door and bustled in. "Frank..."

"Where's Tina?"

"Diana took her to our suite."

Frank walked past her. "All right. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Margaret strode beside him as he started out the door. "I'm going too."

"Look, Baby..."

"I am going. No use us arguing on the eve of our wedding, now is there?"

Wainwright shrugged and kept walking with Margaret struggling to keep up with his long steps.

-------

Wainwright knocked on the outer door of the suite, but there was no answer. Taking the master out of his wallet, he slid the card through the lock. Inside, he turned toward the leftmost bedroom.

"How do you know which one?" Margaret asked as she followed Frank through the sitting room toward the room he had chosen.

"It's this one," Frank absently answered, his mind on what he was going to say.

Frank rapped sharply on the door, then stepped back waiting. After a moment, Corrigan opened the door a crack, then a little more to stare at Frank. "Yes. Oh, Frank. What are you doing here this late? What's wrong?"

"Get some clothes on. Margaret and I need to talk to you." Frank's voice projected a seriousness that Corrigan recognized.

"Be just a minute," Corrigan said, quickly closing the door.

Frank and Margaret went back to the sitting area and Margaret chose a seat. Frank paced. Shortly, James Corrigan and his wife walked into the room. He had on pants, a tee shirt and bedroom slippers. Amanda had on a robe and socks, her hair mussed. James didn't have enough hair to be mussed very much. It was apparent the couple had been sound asleep.

"What's going on? It's obviously serious, whatever it is, by the look on your face," Corrigan said as he ushered his wife to sit on the couch where he eventually joined her.

Wainwright turned from his pacing, "We have a problem."

"Sit," Margaret said. A look passed between them. Frank sighed and sat on another chair.

Frank stared at Corrigan. "Look, there's no way to sugarcoat this. According, to Tina — and I believe her — your son drugged her a few weeks ago with some type of date rape drug. As we understand it, they had been dating for several months and had done nothing sexual. He had made a concerted effort to sweep her off her feet. She had feelings for him, but wasn't sure she was in love with him. He had repeatedly asked her to marry him, but she kept putting him off. Well, anyway, she woke, or became conscious of what was going on is a better way to describe it, as he was having sex with her the next morning. They spent the weekend together and since she had obviously already had sex with him, she allowed him to have sex with her several more times during those two days. Eventually, she gave in and said she would marry him, for in her mind, she had already given in because of the sex. It was much later that she finally came to realize she had been drugged. I don't know all the details, yet. But that's not relevant right now. What is relevant though is that he videoed them having sex the night when she was drugged up..."

" ... Doing some things that she considers ... very offensive," Margaret interjected. "Making her look like a 'depraved slut, ' to quote her."

From Frank. " ... and he threatened to send the video to her friends and put it on the net if she ever tried to leave him."

"This girl is not a slut," Margaret broke in again. "If this video is sent to her friends and family, it will destroy her. Gregg has used the threat of the video to keep her in line since then. She said he now wants her to ... service his friends."

"I want that video destroyed," Wainwright snarled.

Amanda started crying. "I can't believe our son has turned out like this. What did we do wrong?"

Corrigan frowned, "Are you sure about this, Frank? I mean..."

"Damnit, I'm sure," Frank almost yelled.

"Frank," Margaret said.

"I know. I know," Wainwright said as he forced himself to sit back in the chair. "I'm just fucking upset about this."

Corrigan sighed. "Ah, hell. I believe you. Gregg has been out of control for months. He's become even more arrogant than he usually is..."

"Fix it, James," his wife said. "Destroy those files. Just destroy his computers. If he's done this, there is bound to be other terrible things on them. Have them destroyed before he gets back home and sends those videos to her parents. That would be horrible."

Corrigan snatched up his cell phone that was lying on the coffee table, then tossed it back. "My cell doesn't work up here," he said, looking over at Frank.

"Yeah, I know. Damn cell phone company doesn't want to put up a tower for so few customers. I've got to correct that; should have a long time ago. I apologize. Use the house phone, of course."

But Corrigan was already dialing.

Amanda took a long breath. "Our son has a suite that's attached to the main house. It's accessible through our home, and the suite also has a private entrance. He works at the office and so does Tina. That's where he met her. Oh, I feel so sorry for that poor girl."

On the phone. "Andrew, this is Corrigan ... Yes, we're fine ... Well, yes, I guess I do sound a little uptight. I want you to do something right now. Take Esteban with you. Go to my son's suite. Take every DVD, CD and tape, if there are any, and destroy them. Take Gregg's laptop and computer and destroy them, too ... Yes, yes, I know ... He has several cameras. Destroy them, too ... I know we could just destroy the memory cards, but I want to send a message he'll remember. Take everything out to the pad, take a sledgehammer and beat everything to pieces — particularly the hard drives. Put everything in the incinerator. I want the two of you to search his suite for drugs while you're at it. Take the cover plates off the outlets, look in every recess no matter what, take everything apart, do everything you can think of. I don't care what the place looks like when you're done. We'll redecorate later. He's out of there, anyway. And like I said when I called before, don't let him back in the house, or his suite."

There was a long pause while Corrigan listened, then, "I wish you had told me that before, but no matter now. Just be thorough with this. If something comes up and you have to make a decision, just err on the side of making absolutely certain no file or recording survives — none whatsoever ... Yeah, me too. I let him get away with things for too long ... I know you do. Thank you. I'll be in touch tomorrow. And remember; don't take any crap off him. He doesn't live there any more, just like I told you on the phone this afternoon. Pack his stuff and put it out by the gate. As a matter of fact, just load his stuff in his car and drive it down to the gate. When he gets in from the airport, he can pick his car up at the gate from Teddy. No use your having to talk to him at all... Do not let Gregg back into the house under any circumstances ... Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Oh, and check that incinerator afterward. Make sure everything is destroyed ... Take care."

Margaret had moved and was holding Amanda as she cried.

"He's supposed to have a DVD in his case," Frank started.

"I'll do it," Amanda said, standing and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "It's the least I can do for that poor girl." Then turning to her husband, "James we need to help..."

The couple had been married thirty years. "Yeah, I know," Corrigan began, even before Amanda could get the words out. "Money won't take away the shame, but it might help her future. I'll take care of it. But we need to go talk to Tina as soon as possible and start our apologies."

Frank sat on the couch beside Margaret, taking her hand in his. She squeezed back. "There's a bid on Ray's desk, remember?" (Ray Tingle, vice president of Wainwright, Inc.)

Frank stared at her for a second. "Yeah. Good point."

Corrigan, overhearing them, misunderstood. "Yeah, I don't blame you."

Wainwright smiled at him. "How long have we been doing business, James?"

Corrigan sighed, thinking he knew what was coming. "About sixteen years, I guess. It's been a good run while it lasted."

"What's your profit percentage on the bid you just sent in? About the same as usual?"

"Yeah. It was ... well, would have been until my son screwed things up."

"Have your people resubmit the bid as soon as they can. Tell them to double the profit margin."

"Yeah, I don't blame..." Corrigan sort of blinked when he realized what Frank had said, "What?"

Wainwright smiled at him. "That one part costing more won't make a big difference when the project is completed. I have a cost overrun clause if I have to use it. I'll still make money. You've just showed me one more time why I do business with you. It's called integrity."

"Frank, you don't have to do this. We're both rich men..."

"Yeah, and we're going to stay that way..."

Amanda came out of Gregg's bedroom and held out a DVD. "Here's the DVD, Frank. It's the only disk in his case, and it has Tina's name on it."

Margaret reached out to take it. "I'll give it to her. I'll just bet we'll be making a late-night trip out to the incinerator."

Amanda's eyes teared up. "I'm sorry."

Margaret stood to hug her. "Hush. You two have done nothing wrong, and everything right. Besides, this might just work out for the best in the long run. You just watch and see," she finished as she smiled a knowing smile at her soon-to-be husband.



-------

Chapter 87

When Margaret got back to her bachelorette party, Jeff's wives, and Dave's wives were regaling each other with trivial and amusing instances that had happened in past months; their intent to bolster Tina's spirit, obvious.

Tina looked up as Margaret entered. "Did you..."

Margaret held the disk out to Tina. "This was the only one in his case, and the DVD has your name on it. James called someone at home and instructed him to destroy everything in Gregg's suite that could possibly contain a video file, and I do mean everything. I talked James and Amanda out of coming down to apologize tonight, but they are profusely sorry about what their son has done. They will see you first thing tomorrow to apologize and do what they can to make it up to you."

"They don't have to apologize," Tina said as she took the DVD from Margaret's hand and held the disk against her stomach almost protectively. "They didn't do anything wrong. Actually, they treated me very nice. Gregg wanted me to move in with him, but I wouldn't. I'm more than glad that I didn't, but I'm so embarrassed. Now everyone will know what I ... did with him. Then when we got here, Gregg made a scene about us having only one room. I certainly didn't intend staying in the suite with him, but after he showed out, I didn't want to call even more attention to us, so I just didn't say anything. But I was so embarrassed in front of his parents. I..."

Jennie, who was sitting beside Tina on the couch, quickly moved over so Margaret could sit by the young woman. "What you did," Margaret spoke as she sat close and took Tina's hand, "was to be drugged and raped. Do you want to try and prosecute him for it?"

Tina, a shocked look on her face, whispered, "Nooo. I don't want anyone to know what I ... what I let him do to me, drugged or not. I look like a wanton slut on that video. I just want this to be over."

Margaret took Tina's hand and squeezed it. "All right. It's over. James has instructed his people to destroy any recording devices, cameras, laptop and desktop computers, and to search the room in detail. They're to beat everything to pieces with a sledgehammer, then incinerate the remains. They're going to load Gregg's clothes in his car and park it down by the gate. He won't even be allowed back on his parents' property. James is pissed about this, and both he and Amanda are extremely embarrassed about what their son did. They're good people, Tina. They'll..."

"Incinerator?" Tina brought the disk away from her body, looking down at it, "Could we..."

Margaret came to her feet. "You bet we can. There's one out back that will reduce that disk to ash. You want to do it now? It's getting late and it's snowing; we can wait and do it in the morning if you want."

Tina looked up at Margaret. "Could we really do it now?"

"You bet we can."

"We'll all go," Arlene said, jumping to her feet.

-------

All the women, clothed in heavy coats, stood in front of the incinerator. Margaret clanged the door locked. "There," she said, pointing to the large red button.

Tina pressed it without hesitation. There was a roar from inside the incinerator and the reading on the thermometer rose like a rocket. There was a whine as the air compressors kicked in, and the temperature leapt upward yet again. After about three minutes, the compressors cut off and the noise subsided.

"Are you sure that did it?" Tina asked.

"Honey," Margaret laughed, "that DVD ceased to exist about two seconds after you hit that red button. The rest was just 'make sure' about a hundred times over."

"Can we look inside?" Tina said, reaching for the lock, but the door wouldn't open.

"It won't open until it cools. We can look in the morning if you wish."

Tina turned back toward the retreat, then held her gloved hand out to the snowflakes floating down in the floodlights. She caught one — well several, since it had started snowing hard. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" she said, looking into the gloom as the snow came down harder.

Margaret chuckled. "Yes it is." Then louder, "It is, indeed, a beautiful night."

Helen hit Arlene with a snowball, then took off toward the retreat with Arlene, handful of snow in hand, in hot pursuit. Shortly there was a major snowball fight among all the women. They didn't cut Tina one bit of slack.

-------

Jeff, Dave and Frank sat in the small sitting room they had been using for their bachelor "party," watching their women on the television. "I can't believe all of them went out in a snowstorm to burn one DVD," Frank said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, or to have a snowball fight at midnight," Dave laughed, then motioning with the pot, "Jeff?"

"Yeah, might as well have one last cup before bed." Then turning back to Frank, "I would never in my wildest dreams claim to understand women, but that said, I suppose what we just witnessed was a little like a rite of passing. Tina has rid herself of that asshole, and our women were there with her to show their support, or something." Jeff chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Dave asked.

"Well, you know that security has put up several cameras around the retreat. I just wondered what those guys and gals thought about all our women going out to the incinerator in the middle of the night to burn a DVD. I can just see the night shift putting that in their report for Lieutenant Mayfield to read in the morning. Bet they keep the recording for him to watch. Be interesting to see if he gets balls enough to ask me what they were burning," Jeff chuckled. "And ... speaking of Tina, when are you going to marry her, Frank?"

"Jeff, I don't care what Margaret says, I just met the girl today..."

Dave grinned at Frank, "Ah, but Tina's a pretty little thing. And just what does Margaret have to say?"

Frank sighed. "She says that Tina is the one. She had me kiss her while standing just outside the door."

"And ... did your pheromones get into the act?" Dave asked.

"Well, I don't know. I didn't intentionally do anything like that."

"Frank, cut the bullshit, and tell us what happened," Jeff said, a smirk on his face.

"It felt almost like a shock when I kissed her. It ... the kiss lasted for quite a while."

"What are you going to do with her while you and Margaret are on your honeymoon?" Jeff asked with a slight frown. "She can stay here, of course, if that's what you decide."

"Shit, Jeff. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I can't even believe this is happening. Women aren't supposed to..."

"Margaret will be your Queen soon. For all practical purposes, she already is. She's told you she was looking for another mate for you. You're an Alpha. Get used to it. And before you say anything, I'm well aware of just how much use it is to try and explain to my Queen that I don't need another wife, and I'm just about certain that you won't have any better luck with Margaret. So, as I said, get used to it."

Frank just turned to stare at the TV, but his mind was far away from the porn movies.

FRIDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 18

Breakfast for the Matthews clan was early, even for them. Supper last night, or dinner as most of the guests called it, had gone off without a hitch. But today would bring in many more guests. The chef was impressed with the efficiency of the women — well astounded would probably be a better description. He had prepared several of his specialty dishes, and of course, cooked steaks and other foods to order, but basically the guests served themselves from the bar — food cooked by the women.

The cooking done and on the food bar, the new girls and Dave's younger wives, Linda and Kim, had freshened soft drinks and bussed tables after the guests, acting as if they had done it all their lives. Jennie and Melissa rinsed dishes and fed the dishwasher. Arlene and Ann washed pots and pans. When the older wives and Evie tried to help, Arlene ran them out of the kitchen, telling them to go supervise. One guest dropped a plate of food, but it was cleaned up even as he tried to apologize. Laughing and joking with the guest, the twins escorted him to the food bar and helped him fill another plate.

Today would begin maid service to the rooms that were used last night. Snowmobile rides started at nine, as well as skiing. The game room had been active last night and would probably be more so today, at least with the younger people.

Now at 5:00 A.M., Friday morning, Jeff sat at the head of the kitchen table. Each of his women filed by to give him a kiss, even though they had done the same thing before leaving their suite. Susan was last, her face flushed as she walked up to him.

"Missed you last night," Jeff said into her ear as he pulled her onto his lap.

"I'll ... be there after all this is over," she whispered, blushing more. "Besides, I was too sore for anything to happen, and it was absurdly late to have to get up so early."

Jeff chuckled and touched his lips to hers for an instant. "My women and I just cuddled last night, but we need you with us. I don't have to put my cock in you to make love."

"I know, but I want to wait a couple of days. This is all new to me, and I've always been a modest person, no matter that I was a bitch to you," she finished, burying her face in his neck. "I'm sorry Jeff."

Jeff chuckled and took her beautiful face in his hands. "You weren't as much a bitch as you probably think. Your plans for your daughter were wrecked when Diana and I got in that back seat. Oh, I was pissed at you many times, but deep down, I knew where you were coming from. Besides, that's all behind us. With Little One, you now have your youth back, and you're my woman now. I'm your man. I'll protect you and love you forever. I just want you in our bed with us."

"After the guests have gone, I'll be there," she quietly said into his ear. "I dreamed of that big cock last night. I woke up wet this morning."

"All right you two, time to get breakfast behind us and get ready to cook for our guests," Diana laughed as she pulled her mother to her feet and swatted her butt. Soon the women were starting their cooking.

Dave, looking somewhat bedraggled, came in and sat down.

Arlene and Ann put cups and a pot of coffee on the table. "What's with you?" Jeff said as he poured Dave a cup.

Evie having heard, giggled and walked on by.

Dave looked after her as she added a little extra sway to her hips. "Evie woke me at three, horny. That set off the other two. I think I got about two hours sleep last night."

"No sympathy from me, My Friend. You have three wives; I have nine, not to mention Kayla."

When Frank came in and sat down. Jennie immediately poured him a cup of coffee, smiled and kissed him on the forehead, then pranced off.

"Hey, how come he gets service and we don't?" Jeff joked.

Jennie turned back for a moment and said, "'Cause he's getting married today." Laughing, she merged with breakfast preparations.

"I don't like sleeping by myself," Frank grumped.

Dave looked over the rim of his cup, and with what appeared to be perfect seriousness, "Pussy does tend to be habit-forming."

Wainwright tried to ignore him, but a smile twitched his lips, nevertheless. "I like having that woman in my arms at night. This is bullshit about not seeing my bride on the day of the wedding. We need to discuss several things."

"Where's Tina?" Jeff asked, trying to change the subject.

"I haven't the foggiest idea. I can't see or talk to Margaret, remember?"

Diana, apparently having heard, came over and motioned for Frank to slide his chair back a little. When he did, she sat in his lap. After having touched her lips briefly to Wainwright's, she smiled at him. "Tina will stay with Margaret all day. They have many things to talk about, and rest assured, you're the main topic, of course. We even have a bridesmaid dress for her, although we have to do some alterations right after breakfast."

"You had an extra bridesmaid dress?" Wainwright asked, amazed.

"Actually, we have several," Diana said as if Frank was a little slow.

Frank glanced at Jeff, who just raised an eyebrow.

"How many bridesmaids are there, anyway?"

Diana grinned at him. "Basically every woman in the family who doesn't have another part in the wedding, of course. You were at the rehearsal," she teased.

"Leave him alone," Jeff laughed. "He was concentrating on memorizing his lines while all that was going on. I do. I do," he mimicked.

Diana giggled, kissed Frank again and got up to continue with breakfast.

Shortly the meal was on the table, and after their prayer, Dave looked at his Prime. "Korey put the new chandelier in the basement yesterday. I'm going to get a couple of the crew up here and get it installed in the hallway where someone I know shot the other chandelier to pieces."

" ... And saved my life when he did it," Arlene said, her voice a little more serious than she meant.

Dave froze with his eating and looked over at her. "I didn't mean..."

Arlene's eyes suddenly sprung tears. She made as if to get up from the table, but Ann, sitting next to her, grabbed and hugged her.

Dave shot up from the table and quickly walked around to Arlene. Adding his hug to Ann's he began apologizing. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring back bad memories, Baby. I just ran off at the mouth without thinking."

Diana took her daughter's arm and gently pulled her to her feet. The Queen and Ann walked out of the kitchen with their arms around Arlene. Just as they went through the kitchen door, Diana looked over her shoulder. "Eat. We'll be back in a minute."

Susan hurried out behind them.

"I didn't mean..." Dave started as Evie hugged him.

"Hush," his wife said. "You didn't do anything wrong. Only time and our love will heal her. Her experience is still too raw, yet. Your comments probably brought back memories of that ass shooting her."

Dave tried to apologize to everyone for spoiling breakfast.

"You didn't do a thing," Jeff emphatically said. "We all knew this was coming sooner or later, so don't go blaming yourself. Diana will take care of it. And about the chandelier, I'll help you put it up. No use bringing in anyone to do it. Heck, we need something to do to keep out of the way until the guests begin coming in on the copters, anyway."

"Jeff, I still feel..."

"No. Like I said, we all knew it was coming. I've seen her standing and looking at that intersection in the hallways. She's young, and she's Arlene. She'll overcome it. I think the fact that she's always won at anything she's ever really put her mind to is playing a big part in this. She came up against a professional and didn't win. Oh, she killed him, but in her mind, she died, too. She was prepared to give her life for us, but I'll bet that deep down, she thought she would kill him before he could get a shot off. I gave her a slight edge when I shot out the light, but at best, it only balanced with his experience. She's come face to face with reality — and death.

"When that sniper got me, I went through much the same thing. In my arrogance, I exposed myself. I didn't think they had weapons that would shoot that far accurately, or the personnel to use them. I knew I was dying when that round went through me, and had it not been for the sergeant's quick thinking, and the Ship, I would, indeed, have been dead. I've relived that nightmare many times since then. I guess it's called realizing my mortality. If it bothers an experienced combat vet that much, just imagine what it does to a sixteen-year-old young lady."

-------

Breakfast was over and the women still had not returned when Jeff turned to Dave. "Why don't you go on back to your apartment and wait for me? It will take both of us to get that big chandelier box up the stairs from the basement. I need to go have a talk with my daughter."

"I'll help him with the chandelier," Frank started.

"No, my friend. You need to be with your guests. I'm surprised you didn't wait to eat with them."

"I wanted to eat with my family."

Jeff was humbled by that simple statement. "Go drink some coffee with your guests as they eat their breakfast. This is your wedding day." Slapping Frank on the back, Jeff walked on out of the kitchen.

Jeff had assumed that the women would be in their bedroom, and he was right. As soon as he walked in the door, Arlene jumped up and hugged him. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I spoiled breakfast for..."

"Hush. You sound like Dave," he smiled down at her. "No, you didn't spoil anything; now sit and just listen for a minute."

Jeff sat in a chair expecting Arlene to sit in the seat beside him, but instead, she sank down to the floor, leaning against his legs as she looked up at him. He leaned forward, stroking her cheek for a moment. "We touched on some of this before, but obviously, you weren't listening too closely," he teased. "So here goes. Number one: you saved the lives of a number of your sister-wives, and myself."

"Daddy, I did not. You would have killed him..."

"He heard you approaching. That slowed him down to begin with. Otherwise, a couple of seconds later, he would have stepped around that corner and sprayed us with that submachine gun. How many of us do you honestly think would have lived through that, hmmm? I was concentrating on Helen so much that I didn't fully realize what was happening until you started toward that intersection. I would never have had time to get Helen out of my arms and engage him before he cleared the intersection and sprayed our group. Kayla was on the other side toward the theater, so she could only have avenged us with her SMG. Just his having heard you was enough to slow him down and give us a chance.

"Now, about the other. Baby, I've seen good troops die in combat and they had done nothing wrong, indeed, had done everything right. People die in combat, obviously, and sometimes it's just the luck of the draw. No matter how good you are, fate is sometimes against you, and you die. From what I can determine, he was a mercenary — a disciplined mercenary. Over a period of time, the two of them fooled us into trusting them. That alone shows discipline. Indeed, I strongly suspect that he had trained and practiced just such an occurrence as the one that presented itself at that intersection.

"You, My Love, are a very intelligent and gifted young woman. You're used to winning..."

"Daddy, I don't always win."

Jeff chucked her under the chin, gently chiding her as Ann, who had sat down by Arlene said, "She lets us win from time to time, although, I doubt if many people have realized she is actually letting us win."

Jeff smiled at Ann. "You, My Love, are in that category, too, for your mind is exceptional also."

Susan and Diana just looked at each other and smiled.

"She lets others win just like I do," Arlene agreed, "and nobody realizes that she does it."

"As it should be," Jeff continued. "But back to what happened in that hallway. You have superior intelligence and had practiced slicing the pie at a hallway intersection a few times. He, on the other hand, had probably practiced it dozens or even hundreds of times. I suspect that in addition to the practice, he had actually done it for real more than once, and won, since he obviously lived to come mess with us. From what the General tells me, Vasquez and his group were expensive — very expensive. You went head-to-head with a professional, Guterrez, and broke even, if not a little ahead. With Little One and the Ship, you were able to live to tell about it. Remember what I told you about the sniper and me? I would have been dead, and I'm supposed to be a professional. Yet some frickin' alien sniper nearly cancelled my ticket. I knew better. I got careless. There's no excuse for that. You on the other hand, offered up your life for the rest of us, and you took out the person who was going to kill us — took out a professional."

Jeff stroked Arlene's hair as the tears silently flowed down her cheeks. "We all owe our lives to you. God has given you a second chance, just like He did me. Don't insult Him by ignoring that fact. Since that sniper, for some reason I don't fathom, I have received an absolute abundance of blessings. You having become my wife is one of those blessings. Let's not let Him down by not accepting the gift He has given you. It's time to rejoice, for one of my Alphas is taking a wife today. But ... another of my Alphas is feeling really bad for saying something that hurt you, or started you thinking about the worst experience in your life. He certainly isn't rejoicing right now.

"Share your thoughts with us. Don't bottle them up like I had to. Because of the blocks, I couldn't talk to the ones I love when I came back from the sniper attack. We love you. We're all part of this big extended family. Let us know when you need to talk — any of us. We'll get through this together."

-------

Dave was sitting on his couch channel surfing while he waited for Jeff. He heard the door open and running steps coming down the hallway. Suddenly a crying girl launched herself into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. That was so selfish of me. I was so caught up in feeling sorry for myself that I forgot how fortunate and blessed I am. I'm sorry Dave, I..."

Dave put his index finger across her mouth. "Hush. I love you."

"I love you, too," she wailed. "I love Evie and all your family. Thank you for being my husband's friend ... for being his Alpha."

Dave just held her and let her cry, then after a while, tapped a finger into her side and sniggered. She shrieked and jumped back as he tickled her for a moment. Then, "Where's that husband of yours? We need to get that chandelier up."

"He said he would be waiting in the hall for us. But I want to help."

"Okay," Dave said as they got up. "It's probably going to take three of us to put it up, anyway."

In the hallway a moment later, Jeff grinned at Dave, but said nothing about Arlene's apology. "Where's Evie?"

They all started for the basement stairway door. "Lady called and said her kid had stopped up the commode with a toy. Evie went to get things going again. Kim and Linda went with her."

Jeff stopped to look at Dave. "Think we should go and check..."

"Jeff, this is Evie we're talking about. If I go trudging up there, she'll take it as a personal affront that I'm implying she can't fix it. She already has my other wives with her. If she needs me, she'll call."

-------

In the basement. "Let me get my electrical toolbox," Dave said, "then we can get the chandelier up the stairs."

Arlene grabbed one end of the chandelier box and lifted. "It isn't heavy, just bulky. Dad and I can take the box upstairs while you get your toolbox."

Shortly, they had two stepladders, the chandelier and Dave's toolbox in the hallway where they needed them. Dave cut the power to that end of the hall while Arlene brought a portable floodlight from the basement.

A little later. "Hand me a couple of those bright red wire nuts there in the end of the box," Dave said, pointing as he stood on the ladder. "One of those green ones, too."

"Bright red?" Arlene said. "Why that color?"

"Darned if I know. But they're easy enough to see in low light," Dave chuckled, "And of course, each size has its own color."

A while later, the chandelier was up and the tools put away. "Looks like nothing happened," Arlene said.

Dave looked at Jeff and a look passed between them. There hadn't been an inflection in Arlene's voice as if she were remembering something bad happening. But Arlene caught the look and putting her hands on her hips, mock-glared at them. "I'm not broken. Just a little bent," she laughed. "Now I need to find my sisters. It's about time for us to start cleaning suites."

Laughing, with Jeff on one side and Dave on the other, their arms looped over Arlene's shoulders, they started back down the hall.



-------

Chapter 88


In the hallway, Susan threw a load of wet towels on the cart, then a moment later came back out of the suite with the vacuum cleaner she had been using. Muttering to herself, her face red, she hung the vacuum on the side of the cart and started for the next suite.

"What's wrong, Meemi?" Arlene asked as she caught up to her grandmother.

"Two people. Two people in there and they used up all the towels we left for them, plus extras that they demanded last night at 9:00 o'clock, then they had the audacity to complain about not having enough towels when I went in to clean the room. Some people should not drink. There was water all over the bathroom floor. Plus, the whole suite looked like a pigsty. Then they critiqued my cleaning: 'You missed a piece of lint there on the carpet. Did you put clean sheets on the bed?'" Susan said, mimicking the occupants of the suite with a fake nasal voice. "I've heard of biting your tongue to keep from saying anything, but I literally did it in there," she finished, jerking her thumb back over her shoulder at the suite she had just left.

"I guess I lucked up on both the suites I've cleaned so far, then," Arlene said. "In the first suite, they told me they would go for a walk and look around until I got through. In the second suite, everything was already straightened up, and they stayed in the sitting area while I cleaned the bathroom and bedroom, then went back into the bedroom while I vacuumed the sitting room. Both suites had used some of the soft drinks from the refrigerator, but all the empties were in the trash. Both suites had left their used towels on the side of the tub, and there wasn't any water on the floor of the bathrooms at all."

Susan knocked on the door of the next suite. When no one answered, she cracked the door open and announced who she was. With no response, she propped the door open and she and Arlene entered. Arlene knocked on the bedroom door and eventually opened it to find an empty room. "Why don't we work together for a while, Meemi? I'll start on the bathroom if you want to start with the bed."

The work went quickly and Susan was shortly in a better mood.

"Why didn't you sleep with us last night, Meemi? We missed you."

Susan stopped and looked at her granddaughter as they stood in the bedroom of the suite. "I'm still a little embarrassed. I really didn't expect that to happen yesterday. But I can't get my mind off it. I could... feel his love for me. Not just imagine it, but feel it. I've been so attracted to him ever since I came out here — and I didn't want to be. I can't get my mind off his nursing my breasts. My nipples are staying so sensitive that I feel them all the time, and the bra rubbing against them won't let me forget. I guess leaving the bra off for a few days has spoiled me, but I've never orgasmed that hard in my life. I've never fainted from an orgasm before — ever.

"I didn't want to get out of his lap at breakfast. I wanted him to hold me, and I wanted to push my nipples into his mouth, have him drink my milk. I can't get my mind off him. How many women does he have in that big bed anyway, ten? I'm number eleven. I can't believe I'm even considering this. How can it happen? I ... Oh, shit. I can't believe I'm talking like this to my granddaughter."

Arlene hugged her. "Stop,  Meemi." Amazing Susan, Arlene held her at arm's length and giggled. "As they say, you're over-thinking this. He's an Alpha, Meemi, even more so, a Prime. We all feel like that. Just go with the flow and quit fighting it. We all love each other, and we love him — and he loves us. That's all that is important. I'll bet you didn't do too much thinking when he shoved that big cock up you," she laughed.

"Arlene. You're talking about your father..."

"No, Meemi," Arlene interrupted, "I'm talking about my husband. Oh, it gives me a charge sometimes when I think about him being my daddy as he's screwing my brains out, but when we're making love, I just know I love him, and he loves me. I still call him Daddy most of the time, and I guess it's sort of a turn-on to do it, but he's my husband. You need to forget about convention and just love him. He's a Prime. You can't fight it, anyway," she said with an assurance that brooked no argument.

When they finished with the suite and started down the hall, Arlene looked over at her grandmother, "You need to be with us tonight. He'll make love to all of us. If you don't show up, Mother will send him after you."

Before Susan could answer, Nat, Nicki and Whitney met them pushing a cart loaded with soiled bedclothes and towels. "We're headed to the big washers in the basement. Give us your stuff and we'll get things going," Nat said as she started unloading Susan's cart.

A few moments later, Susan glanced after the laughing girls as they pushed the cart on down the hallway. "They're having a ball," she said, smiling.

"We all are," Arlene agreed. "Why don't you and I work together? If you get any more assholes, I'll handle them, or call Daddy to set them straight. You should never have let them harass you like that. You've given Daddy heck for years. I can't imagine your letting someone run over you."

Susan sighed and looked at her granddaughter. "Baby, this beautiful place isn't mine. I'm a guest here, too. I don't have the right..."

"Stop," Arlene interrupted. "You're not a guest here," the teenager said with force. "Where in the world did you come up with that? You're family. We're all family here — all part of our Prime's family. This is your home. It belongs to you just like it does to us. I guess I need to have Daddy talk to you some more." Arlene suddenly hugged her grandmother. After the hug, Arlene grinned at Susan and started pushing the cart. "We'll work together. Just let one of these people smart off to you. I'll set them straight."

-------

The helicopters arrived, unloaded and were soon gone for more people. Other guests got their first view of the abyss as they arrived via ground vehicle. Security thoroughly checked vehicles and people, although the technology made the searches seem to the guests like only brief glances.

Jennie got a workout at the front desk, but Wainwright had grouped the guests by families, and by estimated arrival time. His hard copy of the scheduling was dead on with the exception of one couple who arrived via commercial carrier at the airport two hours behind schedule, but that was no real problem.

-------

A little later, Jeff had just finished chatting with a lady and had turned toward the inside garage when his radio vibrated on his belt. With the advent of the security detail, and with Jeff not wearing a helmet, he had been equipped with a small radio that rode in a case on his belt, the radio looking like a cell phone. An earpiece sat behind his ear, looking, if anyone noticed, like a tiny flesh-colored mole. The microphone looked like a small patch of discolored skin on his throat.

By bone conduction, Jeff heard: "Colonel, this is S100 — uh, Lieutenant Mayfield. We have a small problem."

Jeff turned to apparently stare out a window toward the back of the retreat. "What is it, Lieutenant?" he subvocalized.

"One of the guests took a fall on the beginner's ski slope and hurt her ankle. The ski instructor immobilized it and S110 is bringing her in on one of the snowmobiles. Should our medic check her out, or do you want me to arrange for an ambulance to take her to the emergency room in Winter Park, or had you rather..."

"Tell 110 to bring her to the back door. There will be a wheelchair waiting. We'll check her out and take it from there."

"Yes, Sir. S100 out."

Jeff turned and sprinted for the kitchen. As soon as he pushed the door open, Diana stopped what she was doing and turned toward him, a question on her face.

"Slight problem," Jeff said. "Need you and Helen to go with me." Looking around, he spotted Arlene. "Need you to get a wheelchair and meet someone at the back. One of our guests took a fall and has hurt her ankle."

By the time the four of them stepped out of the mudroom onto the stoop, the snowmobile was pulling up, one of the new security officers driving with a laughing lady sitting behind him. Despite her laughter — caused by embarrassment, Jeff guessed — her right foot and ankle were encased in an emergency air splint. As S110 got off, Jeff, Diana, Helen and Arlene gathered around.

"I keep telling everyone it isn't broken," the lady said, "but they wouldn't let me try to walk on it after they saw it swelling."

"Mrs. Hartley?" Arlene asked. "Did I get the name right?"

The lady swung her left foot over the snowmobile seat in preparation for getting off, but Jeff prevented her from trying to stand. "Easy. We need to look at that ankle before you put weight on it."

Before she could really protest, Diana put a hand on her shoulder. "Let's be careful and err on the side of caution. If ... the ankle is broken, you could do real damage by standing on it, not to say anything about how much it would hurt. Let Jeff get you into the wheelchair, then we'll get you back to your suite and have a look at the ankle. I have a sister ... who is working at the hospital in Winter Park." Diana managed to abort before she could say sister-wife, but it was a close thing. "We'll run you down and have it x-rayed if we think there's the slightest chance the ankle is broken. That sound good to you?"

"Well, yes, it does," the woman said as she looked down at the bright blue air cast on her ankle. "But I still think it's only a sprain. I guess I should have gone with Simon on the snowmobile trip, but I thought I would surprise him and learn a little about skiing while he was gone. Going to be a surprise, all right," she laughed. Then turning to Arlene, "You remembered my name. With all the people who have come in here today, I'm impressed."

"Well, a nice lady like you is hard to forget," Arlene said with a big smile, playing down her memory.

Jeff thought about asking the woman first, but instead just reached down and scooped her into his arms, took the few steps, and put her gently into the wheelchair sitting on the stoop.

Impressed with how easily Jeff had lifted her, "Well, at least make it look a little bit difficult," the woman laughed. Then, "How long have you been a concierge here?" she asked.

"Oh, not long," Jeff laughed. "Not long at all."

Diana held the door open to the mudroom as Arlene pushed the wheelchair. As they went through the inner door into the retreat, Frank met them. "Patricia, couldn't you find something better to do to yourself?" he joked.

"Well, you're getting married, so all that was left for me to do was learn to ski," Patricia Hartley laughed.

Frank looked at Jeff.

"We're going to get her to her suite and have Diana and Helen check out her ankle," Jeff said, but more meaning than that passed between the two Alphas.

Frank raised an eyebrow and Jeff responded with a faint nod.

They were stopped four times in the hallways by people who knew Mrs. Hartley and her husband. As they walked down the last hallway, Jeff and Diana lagged back. "Have Arlene stand by the door and keep anyone from coming in. You and Helen pull the air cast off and examine her foot, I'll have Little One put her to sleep and fix whatever is wrong."

The women communicated with a minimum of words, and clandestine looks, none of which Jeff understood.

Jeff, assisted by Frank, gently lifted Patricia out of the wheelchair and put her on the couch in the sitting room of her suite. Diana and Helen knelt at her feet and unlaced the boot all the way. Gently, Diana slipped the boot free as Patricia hissed in a breath. Even through the thick sock, it was obvious the ankle was already severely swollen.

"Here, prop your foot in my lap," Diana instructed as she positioned her knees and sat back on her butt, supporting the woman's foot. "This might hurt a little, but we need to get the sock off."

"Hurts more than I expected. Nothing to do with your slipping the sock off. Just started hurting worse as soon as the boot was off. I guess the boot being tight on my foot helped, somehow." Patricia tried to turn her foot a little so she could see it better. "My goodness, look at the swelling," she said, biting her lip, worry beginning to be evident in her voice. "I must have hurt it more than I thought."

"Sprains can be bad enough," Helen offered. "I tore some ligaments once as I was playing tennis. I limped on it for a while."

"So, I'm going to have to go to the ER?" Patricia said as Jeff walked up behind her, Little One in his hand. "I really don't want..." she slurred as her body succumbed to the blue rays from Little One. Patricia's head lolled back against the cushions.

Frank glanced at the door with concern. "Her husband could come back any minute. How long does it take to..."

"The long trail takes about two hours," Arlene broke in, "and I think that's the one he went on. But I have the door locked, chain on, and my foot against the bottom. Nobody is coming in unless I let them."

"Good. Thanks Baby," Jeff said, then turned to Diana and Helen. "Let's get her stretched out on the couch. When she wakes, we'll just tell her she was probably sleepy because of the stress from the situation, and the warmth in here also helped to make her nod off."

Diana pulled the zipper of the ski outfit down a little. "Looks like she has regular clothes on under this. Help me and we'll get this heavy outfit off so she'll be comfortable."

When Patricia's outerwear was off as well as the other boot, and she was arranged on the couch, Jeff put Little One on her ankle, then stepped back and sat on a nearby chair. "Little One said it would only be a few minutes if there were no bones broken. A little longer if there were. I cautioned her to just fix the ankle unless there's some life threatening disease or something. We already have several people who are not family wondering why they've suddenly become younger. I wish I could enhance everyone, but that's impossible. If word ever gets out, no telling what would happen."

Jeff frowned for an instant, then got up and knelt by the couch, putting his hand on Little One.

{{{ I can do that, My Prime. }}}

Diana looked at her husband. "What did you tell her?"

"I asked her if she could leave some of the swelling to go away on its own in a few hours. She agreed, but she and I have a problem with time, as I've mentioned before, so who knows if she really understood. I tried to convey that we would like everyone to think the injury wasn't serious and healed naturally by itself."

A few minutes later, the blue glow stopped and Jeff put Little One back under his shirt.

After Diana made a short call, Laura arrived with an ice pack.

"RICE?" Jeff questioned with a grin.

"Well, you've surely used it enough times for running injuries. This way she might think that's what healed her ankle so quickly. At least there will be a plausible reason."

The ice pack was one that had its own insulation and a wide, soft strap to be used to secure the ice pack to ankle, knee or leg. Diana strapped the ice pack to the ankle, then wound an Ace bandage tightly around the ice pack and ankle. Laura went into the bedroom and came back with two pillows that they put under Patricia's foot.

The Queen looked at her husband and sniggered. "We used it many times when you were training for that marathon, but I'll bet it never worked this fast before. Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation, RICE, the distance runner's standby," she chuckled. Patricia is going to be impressed when she wakes up.

-------

Guests continued to pour in, and Ray Tingle arrived on one of the trips. Wainwright met him at the front desk. "Glad you're finally here, Ray," Frank said as he held out his hand. "Hated to leave you in a lurch like that."

"Well, it's not as if you get married every week," Tingle laughed as he squeezed Frank's hand in return.

"Let's get you settled in so we can talk."

"He's in the computer and ready to go," Jennie said to Frank as she handed Tingle his key card and map. Then to Tingle, "We hope you enjoy your stay with us, Mr. Tingle."

"I'm sure I will," Tingle smiled back at her.

"Thanks, Jennie," Wainwright said with a smile.

"You haven't backed out on giving Margaret away, have you?" Frank worried as they stepped in the elevator and pushed the third floor button.

As the door closed, Tingle looked over at his boss and grinned. "Frank, do you know just how dumb that sounds?"

"Oh, shit. I know. Jeff was kidding me about rehearsing my lines. You know: I do." he laughed. "But hell, the closer it gets to the time, the more worried I am. If this keeps on, I might not be able to open my mouth, let alone say anything."

The elevator opened and the two men started down the hall with Tingle chuckling. "I can't believe this is bothering you so much. You make multi-million dollar decisions practically every day without breaking a sweat. Now this. Heck, Frank, you've been living with her. Surely, those two words don't make that much difference under the circumstances?"

Frank sighed. "Yeah, I've lived with her. Hell, I've lived with several women over the years, but this is different. I'm marrying this one. And this one is Margaret. And those two words make one hell of a lot of difference."

When they got to the suite, Tingle ran the card through the lock and opened the door, pulling his cart in with him, Frank following. Tingle walked on into the bedroom, opened the closet and took his tuxedo out of his hanging bag. As he turned to hang it in the closet, "If you're that worried, what about a pre-nupt?"

"What? No way. It isn't Margaret I'm worried about; it's me. That woman is three times the person I am."

Tingle stopped what he was doing and just looked at Wainwright. "You need a drink. Why don't you fix us one while I finish up here?"

"I'll fix you one, but I don't drink anymore."

Tingle empted out his case of the few garments he had brought, then the two walked back to the sitting room. "Well, I've had a busy week, so I'm going to fix me something," he said, opening the small bar. "What's this about not drinking? You have certainly never been a heavy drinker around me, but I know that both of you are wine connoisseurs; what gives?"

"I just don't like the taste of alcohol anymore, and ... neither does Margaret."

Tingle set a bottle of single malt on the bar along with a glass and some ice. (Wainwright had stocked the suite's mini bar especially for Tingle.) He just looked at Wainwright. Tingle's thoughts, although well-hidden behind a smiling face, were uncertain about what he had just heard. He considered asking if his two bosses had made some type of pact to stop drinking entirely. Finally, he just said, "Well, shit, Frank." Then to himself, he thought, I'm never going to get married.

-------

Wainwright had just left Tingle's suite when the three new girls came jogging up.

"Margaret wants to see you," they said in unison.

Somehow, the simultaneous speech from the three bothered him. I know that Jeff's wives do that, but these three aren't his wives — yet. How in the crap can they do that? "You sure?" he inanely asked, then hearing himself, "I mean, tradition..."

"She said to tell you, 'Screw tradition and get your ass here, '" Nat finished with finger-wiggles in the air to indicate she was quoting Margaret.

"Thanks," Frank mumbled as he headed for the elevator.

The three girls looked at each other and giggled, hastily clapping their hands over their mouths.

"Told you it would fuck up his mind," Nicki hissed out. "Now aren't you two glad we practiced on the elevator?"

"Do all grooms act like that?" Whitney wondered aloud as Frank disappeared around the corner, his pace picking up.

"And just how many grooms do you think we've seen?" Nat said.

"Well," Whitney chuckled, "I guess the same number I've seen — one." Somehow, that was funny and they grabbed each other and giggled like — teenagers. Something that very, very rarely happened in the orphanage.

-------

Frank opened the door to their suite and walked in, trying his best to appear calm. The two wedding planners were sitting on the couch drinking soft drinks.

"Margaret sent for me." He didn't appear calm, despite his efforts.

"She and Tina are in the bedroom," Page said, motioning. "Tina spent the night," she finished, her voice bland, deliberately without emotion.

"Spent the night? This is a single suite. Did she sleep on the couch?"

Page almost grimaced, but her professionalism took over just in time. "I don't think so?"

"Margaret is not bi," Frank said, then, "and she damn sure isn't lesbian." The last comment was stressed a little more than he meant, but then again, he was stressed, himself. We've gone over the plans for this wedding a thousand times. And that's only a minor exaggeration,  he thought as he turned for the bedroom door. High on the list of dos and don'ts was that seeing my bride was a no-no. Has she gotten cold feet? Is she going to cancel the wedding? Oh, shit. What's going on?

He opened the door of the luxurious bedroom to find Margaret and Tina sitting side-by-side on the love seat. They both looked at him, but didn't smile. He walked over in front of them and stopped.

"We need to talk, Frank."

The dreaded words no husband, or in this case, no fiancé ever wants to hear.

The two women looked at each other and ... giggled.

Frank stared at them. Margaret does not giggle,  he thought. She's far too sophisticated to do that.

Margaret stood and took the step that put her in Frank's personal space. "Feel it?"

"Feel what?" he asked, unsure what she was asking, but not as worried as he had been before the women giggled.

"Feel that," she said, tilting her face up, tiptoeing, her lips drawing nearer.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I always do."

"First time. Every time," Margaret said as she pulled his head down and kissed him with fervor.

She felt the almost-thump as his manhood expanded and pressed hard against the front of his pants, straining at his shorts.

Margaret released the kiss, smiled up at him. As she stepped back, Wainwright tried to turn his body so that Tina would not see the bulge from his erection.

"Don't," Margaret said, holding to his arm. "We're all adults here. I told her how you would react when I kissed you like that." Then glancing at Tina, "Come here and kiss him, but first stand with your face a few inches from his."

"Margaret..."

"Frank, we don't have time to play games. We're going to be gone on our honeymoon after tonight. We have to get things settled before we leave. Last night was a good demonstration, but she's only human, like the rest of us. She needs more to really believe, and ... so do you," she finished as she put her hand on Tina's back and encouraged her to step closer to Frank.

In spite of herself, Tina glanced down at the large bulge. She could feel her face growing warm as the blush started.

Margaret smiled, knowing just how Tina felt, but continued, "Like I said, My Darling, she's the one. I felt it last night. You felt it, too. But this time I want both of you to think and ... heck, analyze. Make sure you feel it. Make sure you know. We can't leave here and risk that Tina will get to wondering while we're gone. Now step into his personal space, Tina — a little closer."

As Tina followed Margaret's instructions, it was obvious when both she and Frank felt it. "There," Margaret fairly crowed. "Now step back, Tina." Tina moved back a step. "Now forward again."

"Oh, my goodness," Tina whispered. "It wasn't a one-time thing."

Margaret smiled. "It happens every time I get near him. We just got used to it and really don't pay attention after a while. But we both know it's there. And it's there for you, also. Has it ever happened before with another man?"

"No," Tina whispered as she stood, her face tilted up to Frank, only inches from him.

"You Frank? Has it happened with another woman before?"

"Only with you, My Love. You know that."

"Yeah, I do, but I wanted Tina to hear it."

Tina turned her face a little to look at Margaret. "What does it mean? I mean ... I feel..."

"Someday soon, we'll tell you everything, but we can't right now. But for starters, Frank is an Alpha like I tried to explain last night, and this may be blunt, but somehow, he, I, or we have chosen you for his second mate. Anytime you doubt, just step near him. Diana says it's the same with Jeff and his wives."

"Margaret," Frank started as he realized what she had said.

But his bride smiled at him. "I spent half the night telling Tina what I could without giving any major secrets away. She knows about the Matthews family, and is cool with it. Now kiss her. We have some talking to do."



-------

Chapter 89

Her mind awhirl, Tina didn't know what to do, but Frank's lips descended on hers and the world went away, Frank becoming the center of her universe for a time. After awhile, he just held her to his chest as he stared over her head at Margaret, a question on his face.

"Just trust me, Lover," she smiled at him. "Now, let's sit over here," she said, motioning to the love seat.

"There isn't room..." Frank started.

"Tina can sit on your lap. She needs to feel you — snuggle with you for a while. We'll be gone tomorrow, and this is all too sudden to take her on our honeymoon with us."

Frank sat on the love seat and Margaret encouraged (gently pushed) Tina to sit on his lap. Sitting beside them, Margaret took Tina's hand. "I want to ask you about some personal things that we need to get out of the way. I didn't ask them last night when we talked, because I wanted you to feel Frank again before we got into this conversation."

Tina sat tensely on Frank's lap, her emotions and logic on opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Kiss her again, Frank. Let her feel your pheromones, but I don't want the two of you to make love yet. So be ... cautious. However, I also don't want to come back from our honeymoon and find out that she's decided to go back to Saint Louis while we were gone."

"Margaret, I..."

Margaret leaned over and briefly touched her lips to his, her face very near Tina's for an instant. "Please do it, My Love. Trust me on this."

Tina looked as if she couldn't believe what was going on.

When Margaret moved back, Frank again kissed Tina. Margaret could feel herself getting wet as she responded to the pheromones, and Tina's nipples suddenly became obvious even though she was wearing a bra. Frank, reluctant, broke the kiss.

Margaret thought she could detect a faint woman smell that wasn't her own. Tina apparently realized it too, because her face was suddenly bright red.

"We need to discuss some things that I didn't mention last night, and I suspect the best way is to just be candid about it. I'll explain later why I need to know. You've felt him. You know you want him. To reiterate, he's an Alpha, like I told you last night. I'm to be his ... Queen." Margaret hesitated, then, "No, that's not right. I am his Queen. I've been his mate for a while, but I think the Queen thing started when I made up my mind that he needed another wife. At least, that's what Diana says, and I tend to think she's right. To further confirm my suspicions, my nipples started tingling not long after I began looking for another woman."

Realization started to dawn on Frank.

Margaret smiled at her fiancé, but then changed her gaze back to Tina. "Queens of Alphas generally give milk — lactate all the time. They don't have to be pregnant or be nursing an infant; it just happens. Diana says there's a reason for it, but we haven't gotten around to discussing it yet. I don't have milk, but my breasts feel different, and my nipples tingle and ... sort of itch. Since I pushed you on Frank last night, and with what I'm doing now, the sensation in my breasts has ... changed — increased. Something about me changed as soon as I seriously considered another woman for my mate. When I saw you, I knew. I just knew. I can't explain it, and now I know why Diana can't explain it either. But it feels so right that it's almost scary.

"A few months ago, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who suggested that I would share my man with another woman. Now," she chuckled, "it seems like the most logical thing in the world, and I can't imagine why I haven't realized it long before now."

"I don't know what to say," Tina whispered.

"Is there any chance you're pregnant?" Margaret asked, startling Tina with the seeming non sequitur.

Tina shivered, then quietly said, "No, I don't think so, but he ... didn't use anything the first weekend. I've had a period since then, though. I'm on the pill, but I was afraid he had given me ... something. I went to my gynecologist and she tested me. All the tests came back negative, but she said I would have to be tested several more times for HIV, and I couldn't be certain I didn't have it for six months. But I don't have any of the other STDs. I hate that bastard. I wasn't going to have sex with him again, but somehow I did."

"Did he drug you a second time?" Frank asked, his voice tight.

"I ... I don't know. I was very careful, because I was suspicious about why I had acted like I did, and since my memory had blanks in it. I did drink a coke, but he took it out of the refrigerator, opened it and handed it to me. I heard it spew when he broke the seal by unscrewing the top. But it wasn't long until I was in bed with him again. But I knew everything this time, I just ... couldn't stop. But even then, I kept screaming at him until he used a condom. There is a lot more to it than that. He's ... really good at seducing. He was so ... soothing when I talked about not remembering. Oh, it sounds so stupid here, but he made everything sound so logical then. Oh, I'm fucked up; I believed the bastard," she said, burying her head in Frank's shoulder for a moment. Then after a bit, she raised her head and continued, "When we started with the sex, I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop. Afterward, just like the first time, I knew something was wrong with me. When he came to pick me up at my apartment the next time, I told him we were through. That's when he yelled at me and said he would show the video to my friends and family if I didn't go with him."

"Did he take your virginity?" Margaret softly asked.

Tina shook her head. "No. I gave it to a boy I dated during my senior year in high school. We were going to be together forever." She made a sick sounding chuckle that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "I couldn't afford the college he went to, so we wound up in different schools. Three months later, he called and broke off our engagement. I didn't even ask if he had found someone else. I just hung up and started crying. I vowed that I wouldn't sleep with anyone else until I was married. Well, so much for that," she sobbed. "Then I woke up with that creep."

Frank held her for a while as she sobbed, then stood and left her sitting on the seat. "Be right back."

A couple minutes later, he walked back in with three cokes from the refrigerator in the sitting room. A look passed between Margaret and Frank. Frank handed Margaret her drink and she unscrewed the top, the hiss evident as she did so, but she realized that the plastic lock ring on the base of the top had already been broken before Frank handed her the drink.

Frank turned the top on Tina's drink, the hiss again evident, then handed her the drink for her to finish opening. Unscrewing the top on his, he took a long drink, watching until Tina took a sip of hers. "Is that about the way it happened?" Frank asked, looking at the young woman.

"What..."

"The drink. You said that Gregg opened your drink for you."

"Uh, yeah. I guess. He opened the drink right in front of me, then handed it to me. But I had to have been drugged. It obviously wasn't as strong as the first time, but I wanted sex — had to have it. That ... that... bastard made a slut out of me."

"Tina," Frank said very quietly as he squatted in front of her. "I opened that drink in the other room. I could have put anything in it. I obviously didn't, but I could have."

"But ... but it hissed. I heard it when you opened it. How could..." But then her mind caught up. "You opened it, capped it back and shook it, didn't you?"

"Yeah. It's an old college trick. You can't shake it much or it will really fizz and spew out. But a couple shakes will produce a faint hiss just like opening any carbonated drink for the first time will do. Chances are, he knew you would be suspicious and had your drink doped before you two got together. He faked unscrewing the top and snapping the lock ring, just like I did then." He sighed, standing back up. "I wish I had fucked the bastard up while I had the chance," he snarled.

"I'm an idiot," Tina whispered. "An idiot." Then at normal volume, "I got my BS in three years. I thought I was sooo smart, and now this. He made a fool out of me ... He ruined my life. He made a slut out of me," she repeated, her voice breaking. Then the tears started in earnest.

"You didn't fuck him," Frank said, deliberately being blunt, his eyes blazing. "He raped you, but you can bet that pretty little ass of yours that he will regret it — immensely."

An Alpha was pissed — really, really pissed.

Frank picked Tina up and sat back down with her again on his lap. "We want you to stay here with Jeff and his family until we get back from our honeymoon," Frank said as he pulled Tina to him, tucking her head against his shoulder and neck and stroking her back as he looked at Margaret.

"I can't do that," Tina quietly said, sitting back up. "I ... I want to be with you two, but I've got to go back to my job. I have some bills, and the apartment rent is high. I can't afford to miss a week off from work."

"We have a job opening," Margaret said as she locked eyes with Frank. "I need a new assistant. The one I had was excellent, but she wasn't as consistent as she should have been with taking her birth control pills. From the grin on her face when she told me she was pregnant, I'm a little suspicious that she just forgot to take them," she chuckled. "Anyway, she quit to be a stay-at-home mom, and the baby is due in a couple of weeks. I've interviewed several people, but I haven't found one that feels right. Want the job?"

Tina rose up a little to look past Frank. "Well, I was worrying about going back. Gregg doesn't work in my department, but he does work for the same company, although he's a couple of floors above me where the brass lives. I was going to try to keep the job I have for the time being, but look for another one so I won't have to risk seeing him at work. But I don't know about taking the job. What does it entail? I don't know if I would be any good at it. I've never been anyone's assistant before..."

Margaret took Tina's hand. "I will have to train anyone I hire, so why not you? All you really have to have is a good memory and a willingness to learn. If you got through a BS in three years, you're obviously smart enough. And ... that way, all of us could stay together. I'm never very far from Frank, and I don't intend to ever be. So what do you say?"

"This is all so fast. I mean..."

"Kiss her Frank."

Wainwright, enjoying his role in the conversation, did, cutting Tina off in mid sentence. Eventually Margaret tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Easy on the pheromones. A little more and I'm not going to wait for that judge to marry us. You're going to have to fuck me right here."

"I don't believe this," Tina gasped out as her mouth left Frank's.

"Want me to send him on his way?" Margaret teased

"No," Tina hissed out as the older woman chuckled.

"Well, we're going to have to get started on decorating the living room, anyway. Those two wedding planners are probably ready to have a coronary," she chuckled, "and I really need to supervise the decorating. Want to help?"

"Sure," Tina said as she reluctantly stood, patting her hair and straightening her clothes, self-consciously, then glanced down at the bulge in Frank's pants.

"You'll get to see it soon enough," Margaret laughed as she grabbed Tina's hand and pulled her toward the other room.

-------

Several months in the future, Gregg would return to the lake house after a night of drinking. He had continued to use his date rape drugs on occasion, accompanied with threats, intimidation and videos to keep most of the women from turning him in to the police. He tried to limit his visits to each bar, nightclub, or other social gathering to one drugged conquest each to help forestall any investigation by the cops. Frequently, his victims were married women out to have a good time, sans their husbands. Two of the women had filed reports against him, but lack of any real evidence of forcible sex had prevented him from being prosecuted.

Gregg had obtained his rape drugs from a buddy he had palled around with while in college — a buddy who became an excellent chemist, although he had discovered the drug more by accident than design. So far, the drug hadn't been detected during a blood analysis of the victims, and according to the chemist, it became almost impossible to detect after six hours or so.

Gregg hadn't scored on this particular night, but he had been drinking heavily. Staggering up the steps of his mother and dad's lake house not far from the city limits of Saint Louis, he fumbled his key into the lock. Stepping inside, he was reaching for the light switch when someone jammed a stun gun into his chest. Shortly, a needle was pushed into his arm.

-------

The world appeared to rock around Gregg as consciousness gradually returned. Everything seemed upside down to his drink-befuddled mind, and the scrambling of his brain from the chemicals injected into his system didn't help any, either. There was pain in his ankles, and as his eyes focused, he realized that he was naked, hanging by his feet from one of the exposed beams in the ceiling. There was also an odd stinging to his forehead and chest.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled, trying to jerk his legs free, but of course they barely moved since there was a rope around each ankle and each rope was attached to an eye bolt which had been screwed into one of the exposed ceiling beams. The eye bolts were positioned well apart, causing his legs to be spread. He struggled fiercely for a couple of minutes, but with his hands-duct taped together behind his back, he accomplished little.

The lights were now on. "Who the fuck are you?" he yelled at the two men who stood watching him. "Get me down you bastards!" he screamed. Then, "Help! Somebody help me!"

But the house was well insulated, and the nearest neighbor was several hundred yards away. No one heard him. Both of the men had on ski masks and latex gloves. Neither uttered a word. They just stood and watched as Gregg's struggles grew weaker when his strength ebbed and he finally realized that his exertions would gain him nothing.

"What do you want," he panted. "I have money. I'll pay you."

He tried to focus on the two, but everything looked odd with him hanging upside down. Still, he could see some of their skin through the eyeholes in the ski masks. The skin appeared to be dark around their eyes, and the near-transparent latex gloves seemed to show dark skin also. Gregg was scared and that fear was growing the more he looked at the silent men just standing there watching him.

One of the men stepped over to a case setting on the floor. Reaching inside, he pulled out a hand mirror, then held it in front of Gregg's face.

"What the fuck?" Gregg mumbled, then as he looked in the mirror and his befuddled mind finally processed what his eyes were trying to tell him, he screamed out again. When his screams and thrashing died down, the man again held the mirror in front of his face. "You bastards. You tattooed me. What does it say? It's backward in the fucking mirror. I can't..." But then his mind finally unscrambled the backward letters.

"You bastards. Nooooo," he yelled out, thrashing around again. "It can't be. I'll kill you for doing this to me."

Both of the men chuckled, but otherwise remained mute. Somehow their not saying anything made it worse.

The man moved the mirror back a little and held it in front of Gregg's chest. "You bastards. I'll kill you for this," he screamed again as he realized that the same thing was written on his chest, just bigger with heavier block-style letters.

The two men seemed not at all impressed with his screams, threats, or struggles. The man returned the mirror to the case, then grabbed Gregg's shoulders and pulled his body out so that he was facing the floor at an approximate thirty degree angle, the ropes now biting into his legs even more.

The other man bent to retrieve something from the case. Gregg saw a glint of light off a small metal blade. "What are you doing?" he yelled, real terror suddenly in his voice.

The man stepped behind him and the scalpel hissed through Gregg's flesh. There was a sudden burning pain in his ball sack. Then the pain got worse — a lot worse.

Eventually the men were done. One picked up their case and quietly stood scanning the room to make sure they had left nothing. The other man, using Gregg's cell, dialed 911. When the phone was answered, the man played a recording of a computer generated voice calling for help, giving Gregg's name, and saying he had been hurt badly. The computer voice repeated the address several times. The man put the recorder back into his pocket, placed the phone on the floor under Gregg, stepped over and opened the front door, then the two of them went out the back.

Down the road a quarter mile or so, they backed their vehicle a short way into a driveway and waited with their lights out. With the ski masks and gloves off, they cleaned their faces and hands of the face paint. After the emergency vehicles screamed past, the men pulled back onto the road and drove leisurely away.

-------

The detective got out of his vehicle and walked over to the two deputies who were standing near the front steps of the house. "Why did you guys want me? This call didn't sound like much when it went out on the radio, just somebody needing medical help."

The paramedics started down the steps with the stretcher bearing a sheet-covered man. All three cops stepped out of the way, and the detective got a look at Gregg's face.

"Shit. Looks like that guy pissed somebody off."

"Yeah," one of the deputies said. "And there's going to be hell to pay. He's a rich man's son."

"What's his name?" the detective asked.

"Gregg Corrigan."

The detective frowned. "Gregg Corrigan. Gregg Corrigan. That name sounds familiar ... Oh, shit yeah. Now I remember. I was talking to one of Saint Louis's detectives a month or two back. This is the guy that has been accused of using some kind of date rape drug, but there was never anything more than the woman's word against his since the drug never showed in her blood. The detective said that Corrigan lived in our jurisdiction and was wondering if we had anything on him. Looks like someone got tired of ol' Greggie boy's sideline and decided to decorate his forehead."

One of the deputies grinned, "Not just his forehead. It's tattooed across his chest as well."

The detective watched as the paramedics slid the stretcher bearing Gregg into the ambulance. Trying hard not to laugh, the detective turned back to the deputies. "Whoever did that tattoo damn sure used enough ink. It will take a lot of plastic surgery to get that 'RAPIST' off his face, and you say his chest is worse?"

"Yeah," one of the deputies agreed, "but that's the least of his troubles. When we got here, he was naked, strung up to the ceiling by his feet. There was blood all down his front and back. When I pulled the duct tape off his mouth, there was blood on his mouth and lips, but he was conscious."

"Does he have internal injuries or something? Was he shot or stabbed to cause the blood to come out his mouth?"

"His balls are missing," the other deputy said. "I think someone put his balls in his mouth and then put a big piece of duct tape across his mouth to keep him from spitting the balls out. I think he swallowed them. But whoever did this wasn't trying to kill him. One of the paramedics told me that someone had cauterized the blood vessels inside his ball sack to slow the bleeding."

"Shit," the detective said, then after a few seconds, "Shit!"

The detective sat on the steps, mumbling and cursing to himself. The two deputies looked at each other. "Uh, what's wrong, Sarge?"

The detective sighed. "What's wrong is that I have to try and find out who did this. And with it being a rich man's son, it will be high profile, so I'll have everybody from the Sheriff on down looking over my shoulder. I have a sixteen-year-old daughter who has just started dating. If what that Saint Louis detective told me was accurate, hell, I want to pin a medal on the guy who did this, instead of prosecuting him. Shit. Shit. Shit. Sometimes I hate this fucking job."

The deputies looked at each other, then one of them said, "Well, look on the bright side, Sarge. You sure won't be working any rape cases involving him. He's had his last hard-on."

They all had a good laugh over that.

-------

There was no forensic evidence other than Gregg's blood on himself and the floor of the house, an anesthetic drug in Gregg's blood that the men had used to keep him quiet while they tattooed him, the eye bolts, the duct tape and the rope; the last three items could be obtained at any hardware store. It was as if the two men were ghosts. They left nothing else behind them, and were never heard from again.

Months later, a different detective would be assigned to the case since the first one had not been able to solve it, but as with the first detective, the investigation went nowhere. The problem wasn't that there were no suspects — instead, there were too many of them, and most of them had no real alibi because they had been home with their wives sound asleep. Would a raped woman lie and say her husband was home in bed the night her rapist was castrated? You bet your bottom dollar she would, but which of the irate husbands did it? All of the women swore that their husbands never left the house that night. Oddly enough, none of them had. But the detective didn't know that. The case was finally shelved for lack of evidence.

Gregg never would say what happened to his balls.

THE RETREAT — FRIDAY AFTERNOON

At lunch, everyone had been given a note that said dinner would be served from 4:00 P.M. until 5:00 P.M. today since the wedding would start at sunset. Finger food would be served at the reception and the bar would be open again. Diana made the announcement over the PA to make sure everyone got the message, and added that there would be no staff available to the guests after 5:00 P.M.

Mid afternoon, Diana found Jeff near the outside garage. Pushing his hood back from his face, she kissed him then asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm tired of being cooped up in there. All those strangers walking around get on my nerves. I'm thinking about going for a snowmobile ride."

"Good. Take Frank with you. Margaret is going to be supervising our decorating the living room and that will mean that Frank will have to be secluded somewhere or he will see her for sure."

Jeff chuckled. "What difference does it make? The two of them have been together a couple times today already."

"Yeah, but that was because of Tina, and was unavoidable. Just keep him occupied for a while. Then when you get back from your ride, hurry and put your tux on, then go help him."

"Help him?" Jeff chuckled. "Di, guys don't help guys get dressed. Women do that kind of thing, but men don't. Besides, he's perfectly capable of putting his tux on by himself. Hell, he and Margaret go to affairs that require tuxedos all the time. I..."

"Keep him busy and keep him out of our hair, okay?" she laughed. "If the two of them are in the same room together, we'll never get anything done."

Jeff chuckled. "Well, I can believe that. Okay, I'll go find him and take a ride with him. But he's going to have to put his own damn pants on. I ain't helping him do that," he laughed.

Diana grabbed him again and kissed him, pushing her breasts against his chest, although he didn't feel much through the coats. "You are aware that weddings make women horny, aren't you? You're going to be busy tonight," she finished with a sparkle in her eyes.

"There's ten of you, Babe..." he started before Diana interrupted.

"Yeah," she broke in, deliberately misconstruing his comment, "you only have ten women, plus Mom. But we'll do our best until the new girls come on board," she said, giggling.

Diana cupped her hand around his groin as she pulled his face down to hers.

"Di, security has cameras..."

Diana pressed her mouth to his. Pulling back an inch or so, "Fuck 'em, if they can't take a joke," she whispered, using one of Jeff's expressions, then kissed him hard for a few seconds. With a sexy little chuckle, she pranced toward the back door. At the stoop, she turned and waved at him, then went on inside.

-------

"Here Frank. See if this will fit. It's cold as a witch's titty out there," Jeff said as he handed the Alpha a snowmobile outfit.

Frank held the garment up and looked at it. "I really think it will, since it's mine," Frank laughed. "Where did you get this?"

"One of my women found it in a closet in the basement."

Wainwright grinned at him. "What are you doing? Trying to keep me out of trouble?"

"Yep. Word from the Boss Bitch. Take you for a snowmobile ride and keep you out of their hair. And trust me, you don't want to be in that living room right now. My wives seem to be in that ... thing they do when they cook. It's eerie to watch Diana turn to get something, reach out a hand and another of my wives is suddenly there with whatever Diana needs. Dave's wives just seemed to drop into synch with the others. I swear that bunch can do more in ten minutes than another group the same size could get done in an hour or two."

Outside a few minutes later, Jeff pointed. "Which one do you want?"

"I'll try the red one over there," Frank answered.

"All right, I'll take this blue one. Uh, Frank, take it kind of easy, okay? If you wreck that thing and get hurt, there's no telling what Margaret would do to me, not to mention what Di would do."

Frank stopped as he was getting ready to mount the snowmobile. Turning to Jeff, "Now what were you telling me the other night when we were watching the news about that cop getting killed a couple days before he retired? Something about being too cautious and double-thinking when a person should go with their training and instincts, hmmm? Race you to the top of the ridge there," he said, pointing vaguely as he jumped on the snowmobile, started it and gunned away.

"Damn, Frank," Jeff laughed as he did the same, trying his best to catch up, but the snowmobiles were identical, other than color, and Wainwright already had his wide open before Jeff even got his started. Margaret is going to kill my ass,  Jeff thought, but the wind on his face and the sheer joy of what they were doing soon washed away his worries.

-------

Two well-dressed women, both around forty-five years old, walked down one of the halls in the retreat. Both wore expensive clothing, their hair, nails and makeup immaculate. The shorter one looked over at her friend. "Did you see that ghastly dress Leeann is wearing? Honestly, she must not have any color sense at all."

The taller woman chuckled. "With as much money as her husband has, she doesn't have to have color sense, besides, she doesn't give a damn. But ... have you seen Margaret since we got here?"

"Yeah, but just for a minute. I haven't had a conversation with her for the better part of a year, I guess. Looks like she finally caught Frank. Wonder how long it will last?"

The first woman chuckled. "Long enough to get her hands on a big chunk of his money, I'll bet."

"Hmmm. Maybe so, but I'm pretty sure that Margaret is far from being poor in her own right."

"I'm going to get her doctor's name before we leave. I swear she doesn't look a day over thirty. And her boobs..."

"Ah, come on. You know they're fake. No way they could stick out like that if they weren't." (Margaret's boobs were not fake, of course.)

"Well, like I said, I'm going to find out who her plastic surgeon is. Fake boobs or not, her face and body both look young. I think my hubby is going to give me an early Christmas present — a full makeover. If I can talk Margaret out of her doctor's name, that is."

The taller of the two reached over and grabbed the other's arm. Both women stopped and stared.

"Hi ladies. Enjoying your stay," Jeff said as he hurried past. Neither woman responded.

The women looked at each other as Jeff turned the corner. One spoke, her voice showing puzzlement. "The concierge is wearing a tux. Surely he isn't going to be in the wedding? I know that both Frank and Margaret can be, uh ... somewhat liberal with their employees, but surely staff isn't going to be in the wedding."

The other woman smiled back at her but kept staring toward the corner where Jeff had just disappeared from their sight. "I have no idea, but I do know that is one good-looking hunk of manhood. I would fuck him at high noon on the dining room table on Thanksgiving day."

"Well, I never," the other hissed out, her words full of supposed indignation.

"Me either, but I darn sure would like to," the first laughed out.

-------

The judge sat in his suite reviewing the wedding vows. His women, Judi and Chelsey were skiing. Odd, he thought, Margaret vows to forsake all other men — not all others, but all other men. And while Frank's vow pledges his love, respect and protection forever, it doesn't say anything about forsaking all others, male nor female. Margaret said she wrote these herself. I wonder if she made a mistake ... No, I know she didn't make a mistake — not on something like this. He suddenly sat up straight. Now I know why she picked me to marry them. Shit, how did she find out I had two women? We have been so very, very careful. Surely she couldn't know ... But this is too much for simple coincidence. She obviously knows. Nothing else makes any sense. But she and Frank have never shown the slightest indication that they knew. So where is Frank's other woman? Frank, you dog you.



-------

Chapter 90

A quiet mumble of voices splashed through the crowd as the bridesmaids took their places and were quickly recognized as the staff who had served the guests. Some of the guests were already regretting comments they had made; others were thankful they had treated as equals these people they thought were just hired workers. Still, most were uncertain who the bridesmaids and the matron of honor actually were, but it was obvious they were more than just workers who were brought in for the wedding.

-------

Don't lock your knees. Don't lock your knees,  Frank Wainwright repeated to himself as the first bars of the bridal march rang out in the big living room. If I pass out, I'll never live it down. But oh, she's beautiful in her wedding dress coming down that stairway. That dress is worth every penny it cost. How did I ever get her to consent to marrying me? Oh, shit, I'm getting tunnel vision. Relax. Relax. Breathe normally. Unlock your knees, idiot. He felt Jeff's hand close on his upper arm. Normally, Frank would have laughed at the idea that he would need moral or physical support to stand up in front of a few people, but this was Margaret he was marrying.

Jeff leaned over and whispered into Frank's ear. "If you pass out, I'm going to piss in your ear."

The absurdity of what his Prime had said almost caused Frank to laugh aloud. It did, somehow, however, deflect his thinking for a short period of time. He began to relax until he caught Margaret's eye. "I love you," she silently mouthed from the other end of the living room as everyone came to their feet. The tunnel vision came back, but somehow he remained upright.

-------

Seen through the giant window behind them, the setting sun splashed gold over the snow-covered peaks in the distance as the couple stood before the judge. Frank had not forgotten his simple lines, or grown mute as he so feared.

Finally though after their kiss, the judge turned the couple to face the audience and said, "May I present to you — Mr. and Mrs. Frank Wainwright."

As the music swelled, Frank grabbed his new bride's hand and they ran out the door. Laughing, continuing to hold hands, they ran down the hall toward the Matthews' suite, took the stairs to the second floor, and shortly came into the vestibule above the back of the living room.

Diana and Jeff now stood beside the judge on the small stage. "May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen?" Diana called out in her melodious voice. As the crowd quieted, "Welcome to Matthews Mountain and our home. We ask you to forgive us our little joke. I'm Diana Matthews, and this is my beloved husband, Jeff. Now to introduce you to our family..."

Finally, the introductions were over, and Diana continued. "Margaret and Frank have asked me to convey the following: The reception will be down the hall to the right as you exit the living room, and the reception hall is clearly marked. They ask that you go there immediately. The bar is open and finger food is laid out. There will be no servers other than the bartender and his assistant. All the family will be in here for a short period of time. Enjoy the food and drink. Frank, Margaret and the rest of us will be with you shortly. Thank you."

As the wedding planners ushered the guests out of the living room, Page turned to Diana. "Are you certain we can't be of further service to you in here?"

Diana smiled at her. "No, just go be with the guests. We'll all be there in twenty minutes or so."

Diana got the two curious wedding planners out the door and locked it. Walking to the small stage, she waited for Frank. When he got to them, Frank simply said, "Let's do it for real now."

The beginning bars of the bridal march sounded out, this time with Evie at the piano, instead of Page (the wedding planner). If possible, Frank was more nervous now than he was a few minutes ago. This was for real — forever. This wedding could never be revoked by any judge, for they were being married by a Prime and his Queen.

-------

Outside the big double doors of the living room, a girl of about six leaned with an ear against the joining of the doors. Her mother was talking with an acquaintance a few feet away. The child turned to her parent. "Momma, they're playing that wedding song again."

The mother beckoned to her daughter, "Come away from the doors, Dear. It isn't nice to do that."

"But Momma, they're playing that song again. Are they having another wedding?"

"No, Dear. Of course not..."

"I don't hear anything," the other woman said as she walked closer to the doors.

"She has exceptional hearing," the mother said. "Sometimes, embarrassingly so." Turning back to the child, "Come here Selina, before someone opens those doors and embarrasses all of us."

When the child came over to her mother, "But why are they playing that song again if they're not having another wedding?"

"Dear, they had several cameras going during the ceremony. They might well be watching a video of the wedding. Now come on. If you promise me you'll keep out of trouble, I'll let you stay in the game room with your big brother while your father and I go down the hall to the reception. Can you do that for me, hmmm?"

"Uh huuh. But I still think they're playing that song again."

"Children and their imaginations," the mother whispered to her friend as they headed for the game room.

-------

Sheriff Tate sat in the audience, his wife, Virginia, to his left, her sister, Elizabeth on his right, each woman proudly holding one of his hands. Rachel and Cindy (Sheriff Tate's nieces) sat to Elizabeth's right. Tina had been introduced by Diana, and the young woman had been invited to watch the wedding with the Tate family. During the short period of time between the weddings, Tina had overheard Rachel tell her mother that she and Cindy wanted to be married here. They had all instantly looked at Quinton. With what she had been told about the Matthews, Tina realized that the girls were talking about marrying the Sheriff. As the second wedding started, Tina mused over what she had heard. Jeff had nine wives, Dave had three, Captain Madison had two, and Frank and Margaret had asked her to join their marriage. Now it seemed that both these two girls wanted to marry the Sheriff. She wasn't sure about Elizabeth, Sheriff Tate's sister-in-law, but from the way she was holding his hand, it was obvious that she somehow fitted into the family in an intimate way.

Tina wondered what she had gotten into, but when she looked at Frank, her heart melted. I want so badly to be walking down that aisle the way Margaret is now. I can't believe this has happened to me so quickly. I've always wondered what love was — if I would recognize it when it happened. But now there's absolutely no question. I love Frank — and Margaret, too. It should be absurd to even think of falling in love so quickly, but this is Frank. I love him. I want to be with him — with both of them. I'm going to miss them when they leave on their honeymoon. Oh, I want to be with them. I want Frank to make love to me. I want to make love to him. Odd, somehow, I'm not jealous of Margaret, and she seems to not even think of being jealous of me. She wants Frank to love me. I know I should think that's crazy — but I don't. Oh, I want to go with them.

-------

"This is an honor that they let us stay in here to watch," Alesha whispered to Jesse as they stood and turned to see Margaret come down the stairs for the second time. "There's no one in here but the ones they call family, other than us."

Jesse put his arm around Alesha. "I want that to be you walking down that aisle."

Alesha put her arm around Jesse's waist to hug him back, and whispered. "It will be soon. We'll keep saving our money, then it will be our turn."

-------

This time when Margaret said her vows, the circle of the Matthews clan closed about them. There were tears pouring down Margaret's cheeks, and Frank was blinking rapidly. The kiss went on until Margaret had to break it to breathe, since her nose was stopped up.

"You're beautiful, Wife," Frank said, the word unfamiliar on his tongue, as he stared at Margaret as if she were the most wonderful thing in the world. She was the most wonderful thing in his world.

"And you, my Husband, are the most handsome man in the world."

"Well, I doubt that, but if you think so, I'm happy," Frank chuckled.

A little later, Frank whispered in his new wife's ear, "Shall we go see to our guests, so we can get that behind us."

"Then get to the important stuff," Margaret teased.

"Exactly," Frank laughed, grabbing her hand and starting for the door.

Margaret took Tina's hand as they went by.

"But ... but what will people think?" Tina whispered as the three walked arm-in-arm down the hall together, the rest following behind.

"The Matthews family all think your being part of us is wonderful. I don't care in the slightest what the rest think," Margaret responded. "You're going to be married to us soon, just like we talked about, and I'm not letting you out of my sight any more than I can help. If that gets tongues to wagging — well at least we'll be feeding the gossip mill so it doesn't go hungry," she laughed.

The assistant wedding planner was also a professional photographer. She had already shot many pictures before and during the wedding, and this continued into the reception. (Evie took pictures during the second wedding.)

Finally, Frank got everyone's attention. After he had thanked them for coming to the wedding, "It took me quite a while to convince this wonderful lady beside me to become my wife. Finally, she gave in. Well," he said, smiling from ear to ear, "I wanted to give her something to commemorate our marriage, and I tried to think of something that would last throughout our lifetimes — something that would always be there to remind her how much I love her." After a subtle nod to Jeff to lower the lights, Frank slipped a small remote from his pocket.

The big screen at the end of the room came on and a video started as Frank put an arm around his new wife. Raising his voice so everyone in the room could hear, "A while back, we were fortunate to spend a couple of days on an island. The owner is a friend, met years ago due to mutual business concerns. Recently when he heard me mention I was looking for a wedding present for my bride, he made me an offer — an offer I could not refuse."

The first part of the video was of the Pacific Ocean and its continents as viewed from high orbit. After the audience had time to be oriented, the view began to zoom downward something like you could get from Google Earth, but with truly high definition. As the camera seemed to plummet downward, the view changed from a view of the Pacific Ocean and its continents, to just ocean, then ocean with a tiny spec in the middle of the picture. The speck began to expand as the view continued to zoom downward, the large screen presenting the picture in such detail that it seemed almost real. (Military satellite material with compliments from the General.) The speck expanded more rapidly now, then the picture came to a gradual halt, showing a long, somewhat narrow, island from a couple of miles up.

The picture shifted from the satellite picture to a view that was obviously from the window of a plane at a much lower altitude. The plane slowly circled the island. First was the long runway with a building that was obviously a control tower, then as the plane moved farther down the island, the land was less flat, gradually changing into low hills with several houses nestled into them. Later, the land was more broken, still later, there was a small mountain, and at its crest was a sprawling, very futuristic-looking home that had obviously been built partially into the small mountain.

As the plane drifted closer, the vehicles sitting near the home brought everything into scale. The house was truly huge — and beautiful.

"You rented it for our honeymoon..." Margaret said, but before she could finish, Frank broke in, shaking his head.

"No, Dear. I bought it for you. It will be our home away from home."

Margaret spun to stare at him, the video forgotten as it continued to show the remainder of the island. "You can't have bought the whole island..."

"Why not? Josiah said he and his wife were getting too old to stay way out there, and they were actually spending very little time on the island anymore. Besides he owes — well owed — me a favor. He made me a price I couldn't refuse, and ... he has a smaller home not too far from the big house that he'll retain the use of as long as either he or his wife lives. They don't have any children to pass the island on to. The island is ours — yours. Your wedding present. Thank you for marrying me, My Love."

The audience stood mute except for a few gasps as the screen showed fields, other smaller homes and white beaches. Margaret didn't see them for she had her body glued to Frank as she thanked him over and over, hugging him tightly, the tears of joy pouring from her eyes. Then she turned, reached out and pulled Tina into the embrace, James and Amanda Corrigan looking on in puzzlement, as did many of the other guests.

Margaret wiped her eyes with tissue that Frank offered. Turning, Frank's arm still around her, and hers around Tina, Margaret looked at the guests. After a moment's pause, "Tina is my new assistant, and ... part of our family. From now on, when you see Frank and me, you will see Tina." The "Get used to it" wasn't said, but by tone of voice the implication was strongly there, nevertheless — appetizer for the rumor mill. Margaret, seeing the expressions on several faces, almost told Frank to kiss Tina, but relented because she didn't want to embarrass the young woman any more than she already had been — not embarrass her yet, anyway.

Margaret turned to Tina and quietly said so that the guests would not hear, "Remember, you're one of us now. Your salary started when I told you that you were my new assistant. Ray has already called and notified payroll. He will get the details from you later and finalize things. All that is just to ease your mind about finances. Truth be told, once you become our second wife, you'll never have to worry about money again. But remember, Diana is the Queen of the whole Matthews clan, which we're a part of. Go to her while we're gone. She'll take care of anything that comes up.

"I wish we had known you a little longer so it could have been a double wedding. We could all be going to the honeymoon suite tonight."

Margaret hugged a blushing Tina.

Dave and Evie sang, Dave on his twelve string guitar, and Evie accompanying him on the piano. Their performance was as professional as any the guests had ever heard.

A little later, "It's time, My Love," Frank said as the band played their first song.

"I've been waiting for this," Margaret said as they walked the few steps to the dance floor and she came into Frank's arms.

"Could have had this first dance a couple years ago if you had given up a little earlier and consented to become my wife," he whispered in her ear.

Margaret clasped her hands behind his neck, looking up at him as they molded their bodies together. "We still have a long life ahead of us according to Jeff. I've already been asked twice about who my plastic surgeon is," she giggled.

Frank leaned down to kiss her; someone whistled; the couple didn't notice.

After a moment, Frank pulled back a little and looked around him, smiling to the guests. Then again focusing on his new wife, "I've never seen a prettier cake."

"Diana," Margaret said. "She wouldn't hear of me buying one. She said she and her sister-wives could do better."

"Well, they certainly did. Uh, somehow we have to do something for the Matthews. They've put in a lot of work for our wedding..."

Margaret leaned up to touch her lips to his for a second. "I know. I've been thinking about it. It seems almost like we cheated them. We gave them our conference center as part of Jeff's payment for his invention, then they turned around and made it our home, too. We didn't lose anything, and wound up gaining a family."

They held each other, just becoming one with the soft music, then, "You feel wonderful in my arms, Wife. I've fantasized about this for a long time. Thank you Mrs. Wainwright."

Margaret chuckled as they moved slowly about the floor, the guests and their extended family watching. "I have a confession to make. You wouldn't believe how many times I've written out 'Mrs. Margaret Wainwright' and 'Mrs. Frank Wainwright' since I told you I would marry you."

"But I never saw..."

"Of course you didn't," she quietly giggled, "I always hid my pad before you could see it, although, you almost caught me a couple of times. And ... you mentioned fantasying. Were any of those fantasies naughty? I don't see how they could have been. We've been living together and done about everything there is to be done sexually, so no need to fantasize."

"Oh ... I was talking about this first dance, but yeah, I've fantasized about fucking you in your wedding dress."

"Won't be any virgin blood on it," Margaret sighed. "I wish we had known each other back then..."

"Better the way things turned out," he quickly said. "I have you now; that's all that matters. I love you, you know."

"And I love you, too." Then smirking up at him, "Now what's this about the wedding dress?"

"Hmmm, better save that for later."

"You are not going to mess up my wedding dress."

"Yes, Dear," he agreed, pulling her close, but his thoughts belied his spoken words. They finished the dance with her head resting against his shoulder and his arms pulling her tight to him.

-------

Later, Margaret stood with her back to several young women gathered fifteen feet or so behind her.

"All or none," Whitney whispered to the twins and Kayla as they stood in the group.

"All or none," they each whispered in return.

Margaret threw the bouquet over her shoulder, the trajectory higher than she intended. With an agility that astonished the watchers, Kayla leapt up, the height of her jump astonishing, as her right hand snapped out to capture the bouquet. Kayla turned in the air as she came down with her arm extended; the three girls reached out in unison to grasp the flowers just as Kayla's feet hit the floor.

There was a gasp from the guests and a shriek from the girls. Jeff's wives hissed out a, "Yes," then hurried to congratulate the four young women.

"I don't believe they managed that," Frank said quietly to Jeff.

"Get used to it," Jeff said. "They obviously planned that one, but Tina and Margaret will almost be like one person, soon."

-------

Margaret sat in a chair and inched her skirt up, teasingly. Mindful that there were children present, she had positioned the beautiful garter just above her knee, wishing that she could have positioned it much higher up. Again, she was pleased that she had let Diana make the beautiful blue garter, instead of buying one not half as pretty. Margaret touched the heirloom necklace that had been handed down from her great-grandmother. She had borrowed a jeweled barrette from Helen, and the wedding dress was new, of course. The lines of the old tradition ran through her mind: Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in her shoe. She smiled as she felt the slight discomfort of the new dime in her left shoe.

I've maintained the tradition for luck, but I'm already the luckiest woman in the world,  the new bride thought as she watched her husband gently take the garter in his hand, pause and lock eyes with her.

"Later," she whispered.

She raised her leg a little to make it easier for him to remove the garter. Frank kissed her as they both stood and he yelled out, "Ready!" With his back turned, he held the garter up in a sort of reverse slingshot. Stretching the garter out, he fired it over his shoulder.

Jesse snatched the garter out of the air, his grin as big as the smile on Alesha's face. Laughter erupted as he held his hand up and twirled the garter on his index finger.

"You ready?" Wainwright whispered to his new wife.

"I've been ready since I said, 'I do.'"

Frank took her hand and walked casually toward the door. "They're leaving," Diana yelled. The tiny bags of rice that Diana and her sister-wives had given to the guests came out of concealment and the barrage began. If the couple had been headed for a vehicle, the guests would have been given bird seed, but inside there was no reason not to use the rice — except, as Frank found out, it stung.

Arlene, who had her own supply of rice, got in several extra shots. "Ouch, crap that smarts," Frank said as Arlene concentrated on him.

Laughing, the newlyweds raced down the hall holding hands, many of the guests following at a more sedate pace. In front of the honeymoon suite, with the guests gathered fifty feet or so away, Frank pulled his bride into his arms and kissed her.

"Make her walk funny," Arlene called out.

"Get a room," Kayla yelled as the crowd laughed.

"Good advice," Frank said. As he grinned down at Margaret, she saw something in his face.

"Don't you dare," she hissed out, but that was all he needed.

Bending forward, he put his arms around her; one hand landing firmly on her shapely ass to crush the beautiful wedding dress against her hips; the other arm pressed against her thighs as he stood up with her belly-down across his shoulder.

"Frank, put me down," she shrieked.

"Oh, I will, Baby. I will," he laughed as he waved to the crowd and went into the suite, the door closing behind them. Within seconds he could smell her, and his cock instantly responded, hardening. "Like that don't you?" he teased as he bounced her on his shoulder a little.

"I do not," Margaret lied as she tried to push her breasts against his back. Then, "Put me down before you tear my dress."

"Only going to be worn once," Frank laughed as he walked through the sitting room with his burden. "Might as well get all the use we can out of it."

"Frank," Margaret complained/grunted (her stomach was on Frank's shoulder and getting a deep breath was problematic), "Diana put a cheese tray out for us," she almost hiccupped out as she bounced on his shoulder and pointed to the big coffee table. Her attempted distraction didn't work.

"We'll fill our bellies after I fill your pussy," he laughed, walking on into the bedroom.

"Frank, we're supposed to make love on our wedding night, not fuck..."

"Got to consummate our marriage first," he laughed, interrupting her. "Besides, I have forty-eight hours of come built up."

"Oh, crap," she softly said.

"What was that?"

Before she could answer, he flipped her over onto the bed, but kept his hand behind her back to slow her fall. She had expected him to gently make love to her like he had so many times in the past. Oh, they frequently fucked, but tonight she expected it to be all love-making. Looking into his eyes as he rested on his knees beside her grinning down at her, something happened. It had started in the living room when Jeff and Diana, in perfect unison said: "We now pronounce you Alpha and his mate — man and wife." She had felt those words as if they had become a part of her being. She had feared getting married to Frank; worried that the same thing would happen that had happened to her other marriages. Suddenly though, with those words spoken by the Prime and his Queen, a calm — an assurance, an absolute certainty — that she had never felt before seemed to flow through her body, become part of her. She felt the bond that could never be broken.

Frank reached behind her, found the tiny catch at the neck of her dress and released it with nimble fingers. Raising her slightly, he slid the zipper down the garment with equal dexterity. Pulling the dress forward, he took it below her breasts and maneuvered her arms out of the short sleeves. Unhooking the front-catch bra was a matter of a couple of seconds. Her breasts spilled out and stood proud as she lay back, the nipples already swollen and extended.

He stood and threw his jacket casually aside, dropped his pants and shorts, his shoes already kicked off. His cock reared up, big, almost angry looking — ready. Roughly, he pulled the skirt of the expensive dress up; jerked the thong aside.

Some part of Margaret's mind thought that she should be appalled, but somehow, this was exactly what she wanted. Her pussy, already wet, flooded even more as she looked into her mate's eyes. Lust flashed through her as a torrent of pheromones flooded her senses. Her body readied itself, her pussy already spasming as she spread her legs and arched her hips upward, her breasts flushed, her nipples tingling. He settled between her legs, reached down to guide himself, but realized that he was already at her entrance.

He pushed hard, but his cock lodged less than a third of the way in as Margaret's pussy locked down. He pulled back and rammed forward again. His cock wedged to a stop half-way in this time. Margaret grabbed the back of his upper arms as he drew back. When he rammed forward again, the low rumble of a growl in his throat, she slammed her pelvic up, her face a mirror of her lust. His cock slid up her tight passage, the head of his cock slamming against her womb, partially wedging open her cervix. With a scream so primordial that it was barely recognized as human, Margaret locked her legs around his hips and wiggled her ass, causing the head of his now spurting cock to rub back and forth across her cervix, drowning it with sperm, some shooting on through the small opening to go directly inside her womb. Neither even realized they were at orgasm. They just became one.

Five more minutes of continuous orgasm later, they both collapsed, gasping for breath, his cock still hard but his supply of semen and sperm all used up for the moment. Margaret was totally out, the bed under her pussy and the back of her dress soaked with sperm, but some small part of Frank's brain functioned enough so that he supported some of his weight on his forearms.

Much later, Margaret gasped out in a weak voice, "That's what Diana and Evie have been trying to tell me."

Frank mumbled something unintelligible and went back to sleep, his cock still buried in his wife's pussy.



-------

Chapter 91

Jeff walked into their bedroom to find only Diana and Arlene there. He frowned, having expected all his wives to be waiting to make love. Diana had already commented that weddings made women horny. This wedding was finally behind them. All that was left would be to feed the guests breakfast and get them on their way. There would be a few left for lunch, but shortly after that, the guests would be history.

"Where are..."

"They're giving us some time together," Diana said, further mystifying him. He wasn't sure what the look on her face meant.

"But I thought your mom would be here tonight."

"She's ... hesitant to join us."

"But we made love yesterday. I thought she would be here tonight."

Diana stood and walked over to her husband. "Who was dominant in her marriage to my Dad?" Diana quietly asked.

"Hah," Jeff laughed. "Your dad was a nice guy, but there was no doubt who wore the pants in that family."

"Exactly," Diana agreed, "And..."

"'And, ' what?"

"Who wears the pants in this family?" she grinned back at him.

Not being totally stupid, Jeff quickly answered, "You do, My Love."

Diana chuckled and Arlene let out an unladylike snort. Grinning at him, Diana said, "Good answer, but we all know that's total bullshit. Oh, I'm the Queen and I run this family until a decision has to be made — an important decision. Then there's suddenly no doubt who our Prime is. So as you would say, 'let's cut to the chase.' Mom isn't coming until you make her."

"Well, if she doesn't want..."

"Jeff," Diana stressed, "now isn't the time to play games. I'm serious. Mom is a Queen, too, as you well know. But she hasn't been your Queen. She is used to being dominant — being the boss. If you want her in our bed, you're going to have to put her in it."

"Di, I'm not going to force anyone... "

Arlene giggled, and Jeff tried to glare at her.

"Hmmm, 'not going to force anyone, '" Diana said, trying to mock his deep voice, "Seems like I remember being carried on your shoulders to this bed on several occasions. Spanked with a hairbrush and that big hand of yours until my ass was red ... not to mention that cat of nine tails, or whatever you call it."

"Me, too," Arlene broke in.

Diana continued, " ... Put on my hands and knees and taken on several — make that numerous occasions. And, like Arlene says, you did it to your other Queen as well..."

"My ass remembers it, too," Arlene broke in to say, but the giggle she fought back showed her true feelings.

"Do you honestly think my mother is going to walk in here and say, 'Here I am; I'm yours?'"

"Well, she, uh, submitted easily enough in the hallway..."

"Jeff, she had no intention of going as far as she did, and you know it. She was confused and needed to talk. Suddenly she was one-on-one with you in a secluded area. You're kinda hard to resist, whether you believe it or not. Now back to our present problem: you have to go get her and bring her to your bed. Making love in the hallway, and coming to your bed permanently are different things. She's a Queen, Jeff. She ruled her marriage all those years. Dad is dead now, and suddenly she's around an Alpha — an Alpha Prime — and her youth is back. If she weren't a Queen, she would be in this bed," she said, motioning, "but she is a Queen, and a dominant one. She'll never truly respect you unless you show her who is boss — on a personal basis.

"I know my mother. She's waiting, and she wants to be here, but her pride won't let her. Go make her your woman. Pick her up, dose her with pheromones and bring her to your bed. In her mind, she must be made to submit to her Alpha. We've talked about this a lot. She loved Dad, but they weren't matched. She wants to be your mate, but she's not really anxious to be number eleven — not a Queen."

"So, is there going to be a power struggle between my Queens?"

Diana put her hands on her hips and was about to respond when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. "Has there ever been?" she answered anyway. "We'll work it out, just like Arlene and I do — and the rest of your wives, also. Now quit playing the abused male and go get my mother."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said with a grin.

Diana stuck her tongue out at him.

-------

Jeff walked into Susan's suite without knocking. She was sitting, dressed in a fairly conservative negligée, in her sitting room watching TV, or so it seemed.

"Don't you ever knock?"

Jeff ignored her comment. "I thought you were going to sleep with us tonight?"

Susan frowned. "Just because we made love doesn't mean..."

Jeff took Susan's hand, pulled her to her feet, leaned over and threw her over his shoulder, not being overly gentle.

"Oooph," she said as she landed across his shoulder.

"It must be catching," Jeff chuckled. "I saw Frank put Margaret on his shoulder, and I just had to do it to you."

"This is not going to work with me," Susan complained, as she began to struggle in earnest, managing to get her hands under her and on his shoulder. Arching up, she tried to twist away.

I hope Di is right about this. If she isn't, I'm going to be in the doghouse for a while,  Jeff thought, then, In for a penny, in for a pound. He applied his hand to her shapely ass — hard.

Whack.

Susan hissed in a breath, the negligée obviously not providing much protection.

"You're going to sleep in our big bed tonight, and from now on. Di says you're a Queen, and I'm not letting you get away. Besides, you sure acted like you liked it yesterday when we made love."

"That was yesterday," she hissed out, trying to rub her ass as he started out the door. "I'm not going to..."

Whack! — even harder.

"Ouch. Damnit, Jeff, that hurts," she complained with a squeal, despite herself.

"Your tits feel good against my back," he said, just to piss her off.

Susan kicked and struggled, but he could already smell her. As he walked into their suite with her slung over his shoulder, Susan, still kicked her feet and squirmed, but Jeff realized she wasn't putting all her strength into it.

In their bedroom, he flipped her onto the bed beside Arlene. One of Susan's boobs popped out of the nightie. There was already a drop of milk oozing out of her left nipple. Susan tried to roll away, but Jeff had already knelt between her legs. Grabbing one leg, he reached up with the other hand and grasped her bikini panties. With a hard yank as he stood back up, he pulled them from her and tossed them over his head.

Susan rolled over, came to her knees and tried to scramble away. Jeff barely managed to grab an ankle in time. "Naughty, naughty. You don't have a pussy full of come, yet. Mustn't run off in the heat of the day."

"You idiot, it's ten below zero out there," Susan couldn't help but reply, barely managing to keep from laughing. She was wondering how he would manage to hold her and get his pants off at the same time.

Jeff dragged her back to the side of the bed, causing the negligée to ride up well above her hips. The only thing left covered was her right breast, and if the wet spot on her nightie was any indication, that breast was doing the same thing the left one was — squirting milk.

Diana lay on her back well clear of the action, her right hand between her legs, gently toying with her clitoris, her left hand tweaking a nipple.

Arlene, growing tired of the delay, got up and unbuckled, unzipped and pushed down Jeff's jeans to his ankles, taking his shorts with them. He was already barefooted.

"You're helping him," Susan accused in the most indignant voice she could muster.

"Sure am. I'm his wife. Who else would I help?" Arlene responded.

Jeff stepped out of his pants and shorts; Arlene pulled them away.

Susan flipped over on her hands and knees, grumbling about granddaughters who weren't respectful to their elders, then tried to crawl quickly away again. Jeff grabbed both ankles and yanked her back. Her pussy was right before him — wet, her nether lips flushed. He grabbed his cock with one hand while holding her hip with the other. She wiggled her ass, causing his cock to miss her hole. He lined his cock up again and pushed, but the angle was still off. His big hand came down against her ass cheek, the crack of contact — loud.

"Oh, shit," she complained, but she had hesitated for a moment with the shock of the slap. Arlene grabbed his cock and lined it up. He pushed hard. Susan wiggled her ass, bucking, but the big cock slid in, anyway. She hissed in a breath as it spread her — slammed into her cervix. She tried to buck him off, but that caused the head of his cock to move against her cervix even more. An orgasm so strong it took her breath, hit. She howled like a cat in heat as she wiggled her ass again, but now she wasn't trying to get him out of her.

Jeff reached forward, yanking the nightie over the constrained breast, then grabbing both of them, he began to pound into her.

Arlene capped her hands over her own ears, laughing, as Susan howled. Diana arched her hips up from the bed as her right hand continued stroking her clit, her own gasp and wail adding to the noise.

A few minutes later, Jeff pulled his dripping cock out of Susan's well-used pussy as she collapsed on the bed. Arlene pushed a hand towel between her grandmother's legs, then arranged her so that she would be comfortable. Her grandmother quickly taken care of, Arlene took Susan's place on hands and knees. Looking over her shoulder at her husband, "Two more Queens to go," she grinned, wiggling her ass at him.

Jeff pushed his cock home as Arlene gasped and shivered out a first orgasm.

-------

College was easy; what got him there wasn't. He had never really known his mom. He had some vague memories of her, and of course, a few pictures. But seeing a faded picture of a two-year-old balanced on a pretty blond's knee didn't bring back much in the memory department, either. His dad had been bitter, and ever since Art Hanes could remember, his father had made sarcastic remarks about bikers and the whore who rode off with them leaving her husband and small son to fend for themselves.

Art guessed his father had dated some over the years; there was a woman around from time to time, but for the most part, his father became, and remained, a bitter man. One night, shortly after graduating high school, Art got a call from the local police. His father had wrapped his pickup around a tree. Shortly, there were rumors that he had been drunk, but the autopsy showed he had been stone cold sober. The insurance company stalled about paying, since Art's father had upped his coverage only a month before, but eventually, they gave up and sent a check. Who knows; maybe it was suicide, or maybe someone ran him off the road, or maybe he just went to sleep at the wheel. Whatever happened, Art was now alone in the world without a single living relative. His dad had been an only child, and all his grandparents were long since dead.

Art sucked it up, sold his father's house, took that and the insurance money and headed to a good college. Four years later, just before graduation, he was approached by the FBI. His first impulse was to laugh at them, but the two agents who were chosen to recruit him were good at their jobs. Hell, he even liked Quantico.

But ... where he expected to go and what he expected to do, didn't happen when he left the academy. Oh, he agreed to it, and sitting in that office that night, the mission, if you want to call it that, seemed ... glamorous. Seemed.

MONTHS LATER

"Heads up!" someone yelled.

Art (now in his new persona of Billy) looked up and stepped back, all in one motion. The heavy razor bar (tool used to remove old shingles from a roof) thudded into the ground a foot in front of him.

Franklin stood on the roof three stories up, grinning down at him. "Oops," Billy's nemesis sarcastically said, barely suppressing a laugh.

"I'll 'oops' your mother fucking ass," Billy yelled back up at him. "You did that on purpose, you son-of-a-bitch."

"Careful there Billy Boy. Keep on and I'll come down there and spank you. Besides, you should have left for the dump with that load by now."

"Fuck you. If you guys would hit the truck when you throw that stuff off the roof, I wouldn't have to pick up so much of this shit."

"Get the fucking truck loaded and get the shit out of here."

"You tried to kill me, you bastard, and it ain't the first time. You almost hit me with that ladder yesterday. I ain't bending over to pick up anything else with you standing above me," he yelled, trying to keep his vernacular along the lines of the roofers.

"I told you I would come down there and spank..."

"Fuck you, you son-of-a-bitch!" Billy yelled. "Bring your ass on."

-------

That roofer had been tough. Billy (Art) would give him that. Billy would never have won without the martial arts survival class he had taken that semester, and the training he had gotten at the academy, not to mention the back-breaking work he had done for so long. But "won" was a relative term. He was still standing, mostly, when the others decided to pull him back. Still, his ribs hurt, his right hand was stiff and swollen, and he damn sure wasn't going to kiss anyone in the near future.

The boss had fired both of them.

It had all worked into the plan, though. That night at the bar, nursing a beer he could ill afford, he griped to the bartender that he was out of work and just about broke. Deep cover was just that. He lived on what he made. No money; no eat. His FBI salary went into an account that he would be given access to when this case was over — or he quit. He was no quitter. If this case doesn't kill me first, he thought. After today, he wasn't as sure about survival as he once was.

But, and as he had hoped, the four men in the corner booth had heard his gripes to the bartender. One of them came over. "Heard you say you were out of work. Come on over and we'll talk. Beer's on me."

Finally, he was offered the job he had been trying to get for over a year. A job he couldn't directly ask for, or even appear to want. Still, he had been around at the right time when they had a vacancy, a vacancy provided by, of all things, a bored cop who noticed someone running a red light in the middle of the night, stopped the car, checked the driver for wants, and presto, the organization was short a man. Billy finally had the job his FBI bosses wanted him to have.

A YEAR LATER — PRESENT TIME

An eight-foot high cinder block wall was the only thing separating the motel lot from traffic on the busy street in a disreputable section of Atlanta, Georgia. But ... most people renting weren't there to sleep, anyway. A bed, shoved up against the wall, a single worn-out chair, with a small table, lamp and phone were all that could be considered furniture. Hope Stewart (Jennie's sister) almost huddled in a corner while five men stood in the room. They had been talking about her as if she were not even there.

Hope was dressed in a short white skirt, with a skin-tight pullover top to match, no bra, tennis shoes and white socks. Her hair was done up in what her father called "dog ears" — pony tails high above her ears in a hair style suitable for a child. Of course, that was the image her father wanted her to project.

One of the men, an undercover FBI agent (Billy/Art), looked to be about twenty-five years old. With his slender build, his long unkept hair that was mostly dark brown with a slight cast of red, and his beard that showed a bit more of the red, he certainly didn't look like the stereotypical FBI agent — which, of course, was the idea. He was under orders to gather information, but under no circumstances was he to take action. He had been only peripherally involved with the girls and women until now, occasionally driving a girl to an out-of-town airport from time to time as she was flown to meet a client, but mostly just being a gofer for the boss or one of his underlings. One night three months ago, his boss had handed him a 9 mm Glock and told him to keep it on him. He knew he was still being watched, but he had lived the life of a small-time criminal, sometimes going months before being able to safely turn in a terse report to his true bosses — all this per instructions.

But tonight, things had changed. He was fairly certain the other girls he had driven to the airport were to be sent to service someone despicable, but again, he was to report and work his way into the organization. But this time, he had been trusted with more information. Also, this girl was a bit different. She was destined to be out of the US in two days — a slave for a rich master who liked to fuck children. "Report only." He couldn't do it.

He scratched his face, the beard still bothering him even after all this time. He vowed he would never have one again when this was over. The haggling had become tense — louder. The girl's father was adamant, and unless Billy missed his guess, the man was strung out on something.

Their haggling was going nowhere, and they all knew it. The one that Hope's father thought was the boss had a heavy accent, possibly Iranian.

"The girl is ... too old to bring top money," the Iranian insisted in his barely understandable speech patterns and accent, proud of himself for using the idiom he had learned yesterday. "She pretends to be ... young," he said as he struggled for the word thirteen. "But she is not. I will take her, though. She will still bring money, but you ask for too much."

"The hell I do. I make as much off her in a month as you're offering me to buy her. I might as well just keep her. No sense selling her for the piddling amount you're offering," Hope's father snarled.

The Iranian decided the haggling had gone on long enough; too long, and to no end. Besides, he did not like this man, and there was an obvious solution to their mutual problems.

"She isn't thirteen, but she looks it," Hope's father insisted, yet again. "I will not take less. You guys are wasting my time."

The Iranian shrugged his shoulders and reached into his briefcase. Maybe Hope's father saw something in the man's demeanor, or maybe intuition took over; no one would ever know, but he reached for his gun at the same time. Odd that the man who had taught his family to be afraid of guns, who wouldn't allow one in his house, now carried one in a shoulder holster under his sports coat.

The Iranian's two body guards realized what was going on and reached for their weapons. Gunfire erupted. The Iranian's silenced weapon chuffed out a nine millimeter in the general direction of Hope's father, but the Iranian had seen Stewart's weapon coming to bear, and he had hurried the shot, barely getting the gun clear of the briefcase before pulling the trigger in panic.

Hope's father, knowing little about weapons, just pushed his gun out in front of himself and pulled the trigger. In the small room, the barrel was less than five feet from the Iranian's chest. The worst shot of the group, but shooting almost point blank, Stewart put two rounds into the center of the Iranian's chest.

But Stewart's victory was short-lived. The other two men, one less than three feet away, the other about eight feet away, fired. One round went through Stewart's head, narrowly missing Hope, and splattering her with blood and gore. Two other rounds went into Stewart's chest and stopped. He, like the Iranian, was dead before his body hit the floor.

While the shooting was going on, the FBI agent had pulled his own weapon, training taking over as he announced, "FBI..." He never even got to the part about putting down their weapons before both men flicked their weapons a short distance to the left and continued firing, this time at him.

The baby agent had spent many hours on the firing range, and indeed, one of his instructors had commented that he had a natural talent. Mentally cursing himself for hesitating, standing almost nose to nose with his assailant, Billy fired at the same time the first man did. Art's rounds went through the guy's heart, but the man got off a round that hit the agent in the left side — kidney high.

Oddly, Art felt only a hard jolt just before he fired three rounds into the chest of the second man, who was also now firing at him. One of those return rounds hit the agent high on his left shoulder, shattering the bone, then exited his back. The other round, fired after the man had been mortally hit, just clipped the agent's left hip, but it splintered the bone there also, then tumbling, exited, leaving a large exit wound.

The sound of all the weapons firing almost simultaneously in the small room was beyond loud, even though they were all using 9 mm pistols — the whole gunfight lasting less than five seconds. Hope had screamed when the first round had gone off. When the round killed her father and splattered her with gore, she collapsed into a fetal position, whimpering, where she remained, her eyes open and staring even after her screams diminished to a low mewling.

The FBI agent found himself on the floor among a tangle of bodies. Everything seemed surreal. His left arm didn't work and he was half deaf from the gunfire in the small room. He fumbled at his belt buckle to activate the tiny radio that was part of the belt itself. Its range was limited — very limited, but the frequency was monitored from several locations throughout the city. It would transmit a call for help, if there were anyone close enough to hear its weak signal.

The agent was deep cover. There was no way he could have backup. Most of the time, his handler had no real idea where he even was.

Odd how cold it is, some part of his brain that was still functioning, thought. He focused on the phone on the small table by the bed. It was only a few feet away. The Iranian had not allowed him to have a cell phone. Art would make it to the phone, or he would die here. With determination born of desperate necessity, he pulled his weak body over the man nearest him. Don't stop. If you do, you'll never make it, he told himself.

His hand slipped in what seemed like gallons of blood, the worn tile slick with it. His left shoulder hit the floor because his useless left arm wouldn't support him. The pain suddenly came from somewhere and washed over him like a tsunami. The world grayed out around him, but he knew his only possible hope was the phone. He rolled his weight to his right side, his hip screaming at him, and crawled over Hope's father, his right knee landing on the corpse's blood-drenched face as the young agent struggled the last few feet.

He didn't have the strength to reach up on the bedside table, but the phone cord was right by his hand. He yanked the phone down onto his own head. Fumbling, he grabbed the receiver, and so proud of himself for remembering, punched 8 for an outside line, then 911.

He wasn't sure if the voice belonged to a 911 operator, or an angel, but someone answered. Again, the discipline of training came to the fore. He mumbled out over and over that he was an FBI agent, the name of the motel and the room number, then, "shot. Need help." Somewhere in there, he lost consciousness completely.

We've all heard of a "comedy of errors." Somewhere the universe has to even things up. Perhaps the baby FBI agent was part of that evening-up process. The 911 operator was sharp and far from new on her job. She took that job seriously, and she knew this was no prank call. She had hit the speaker button as soon as the agent started talking. Her buddy, now hearing the call, too, notified the fire department before the original operator could even notify the police dispatcher.

Things happen when a cop gets shot. It doesn't matter if the cop is a forest ranger in a green uniform, a beat cop, a supervisor who wears a white shirt, or an FBI agent in a suit — they all wear blue at that moment. Now Atlanta is far too big a city for all their police units to drop everything and head to a call for help from one cop — yeah believe that if you will. As soon as the call went out on the radio, every cop who had the faintest chance of getting there in time to help headed that way with lights and siren.

The nearest fire station was a block down and a block over. Two paramedics were standing by their vehicle just outside the front doors of the station as they did an inventory of their unit's supplies.

One looked at the other. "Shit, that's right around the corner, and dispatch said it was an FBI agent who was shot."

By the time the sentence was complete, both of them were in the unit. By the time the fire truck rolled out of the station, the two paramedics were already on the scene. They didn't have to look for the room, there were several people standing in the lot next to it, all yelling and pointing.

As the paramedics came to a halt and got their cases out of the unit, a guy ran over. "Lots of shooting from that room," he said, pointing to 135.

Procedure said they were supposed to wait for the cops to clear the area in case things weren't over yet. One of the paramedics eased over to the window and cautiously peered through a small opening in the curtain. "I can see the whole room. Looks like five guys on the floor and what appears to be a girl curled up in the corner. Blood everywhere."

The other paramedic, not even thinking about the ass chewing he was going to get for not waiting for a supervisor before forcing entry, tried the door and when the knob wouldn't turn, stepped back and kicked the flimsy door as hard as he could. "Shit!" his buddy said as the door flew open and banged against the wall.

They quickly scanned the bodies, but they didn't need to be paramedics to tell that all the men, save one, were dead. "Check the girl. I'll start on this guy. He damn sure doesn't look like any FBI agent I've ever seen, though."

A couple seconds later, the other paramedic said, "I can't find anything physically wrong with her. She's covered in blood, but it doesn't appear to be hers."

"Help me here then. This guy is in bad shape."

It rained cops.

The paramedic violated procedure again. "He's bleeding out. Let's get him in the rig. I'll start the IV while we're rolling. Get hold of the ER doc and tell him we have someone kidney shot — a cop."

While he was talking, they were hastily strapping the agent to the gurney and moving him out of the room. Once the gurney was in the rig and locked down, the paramedic, saying a little prayer, slid the catheter home on the first try. With practiced efficiency, he secured it as he yelled to his partner to go ahead, he had the vein.

Again, the universe must have been playing catch up, because the hospital was only five minutes or so away — well with a bunch of cops anticipating and already blocking intersections, that is. The paramedic at the wheel, knew they were in for a major chewing anyway, so what the hell, he floored it and kept it there. Fuck it. Maybe the police department would hire them when the fire department fired them.

The dispatcher had been on the phone. There were two nurses waiting just outside the emergency room doors when the ambulance swung in the drive. And ... the emergency room doctor wasn't full of himself — didn't even have the slightest God complex.

"I think the bullet hit his kidney," the paramedic said as they all pushed the gurney into the emergency room.

The doctor lifted one of the thick pads the paramedic had been using to try and slow the bleeding with his hands clamped down on both sides of the agent. The doctor took one look, and said, "OR. STAT! Let's move it people."

The trauma doctor had the agent open ten minutes after he came through the emergency room doors. Even so, the baby agent's life would hang by a thread for the next forty-eight hours.

Years later the agent would be in another gunfight. When he wrote his report, it would show that he identified himself and instructed his opponents to put down their weapons. It had happened in a stairwell, and there were two of them. He did identify himself and tell them to put down their weapons, but they were on the floor and quite dead when he said it. He might make mistakes, but when the bullets started flying, he would never make that particular one again. There is talking, and there is shooting. Sometimes the shooting comes first if you want to keep living. You can fix paperwork; you can't fix dead.



-------

Chapter 92

SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 19

The kitchen door opened as Frank and Margaret came in. Although both were smiling, it didn't take a genius to tell that neither had much sleep last night. Margaret's steps were also a little shorter than usual. As she turned toward the others who were beginning breakfast, Arlene intercepted Margaret and gave her a hug.

"Sit with your new husband. You're certainly not going to cook this morning."

"I can help. I'm perfectly..."

But Arlene had already started steering her back to her husband. Smiling, Margaret sat on Frank's lap at the table with Captain Madison and Dave ribbing him about his wedding night and looking bedraggled. Actually, he just looked a little sleepy, but to hear them tell it, he was only one step from the grave.

Tina, who had already been helping the other women, came over to hug Frank and Margaret. "Still planning to leave after the guests are gone?" she asked, knowing that was their original plan.

"Wellll..." Margaret said, stretching out the word as she looked at Frank, then back at Tina. "Actually, we might have a slight change in plans. We'll get together and talk later this morning. Okay?"

Frank spoke up. "We neglected our guests yesterday, so we're going to try and spend at least a little time with each of them this morning, and also see them off as they leave. We thought we would start with a little catch-up as they eat breakfast."

Jeff chuckled. "Judging by the looks the Corrigan's were giving you last night, I'll bet they have some questions about Tina."

"They can have all the questions they want," Margaret said. "But they should have put a stop to Gregg's activities long ago. Turning a blind eye to the things he has obviously been doing is inexcusable."

Embarrassment flushed across Tina's face. "As I said before, they were good to me. And Gregg could be very charming, something that he always turned on when his parents were around — at least he did while I was with him. I really don't have any animosity toward them — just Gregg. I have a lot of animosity toward him, and that's putting it mildly."

A grim smile crossed Jeff's face, but before anyone noticed, he changed the subject and got Frank started telling about the island.

-------

A small figure peeked around the corner to inspect the hallway. (Six-year-old Selina.) The hallway momentarily clear, she ran to the basement stairway door, opened it and slipped past. Turning the knob, then slowly releasing it when the door closed, she prevented the click as the lock engaged. Quietly, she walked down the stairs, the lights coming on automatically in the stairway.

She checked out the weight room, trailing her hand over one of the big weights on its bar as she walked past. In the next room, she casually looked around, the machines familiar to her, looking much the same as their own gym did at home, although there were multiples of each type of equipment here. She was too small to use the machines, yet, but she was anxious to be big enough to use them like her mother and father did. She absently noted the smell of human sweat, both male and female, although the ventilation system accompanied by Diana and her sister-wives' rather zealous regime of cleaning would have prevented most people from smelling anything, but again, Selina was not most people.

There was just too much to see; the place was far too big to search everything before she would be missed, and the large open space in the huge basement was intimidating, even though she had found the master light switch that turned on the lights to a large part of it. Later, she opened a door and stood for a few moments looking into the firing range. It looked like a big, dark tunnel until she gathered her nerve and slid her hand up the wall to find the switch that turned on the range's lights. She scanned the room with its firing stations, her eidetic memory bringing forth a picture of a firing range she had seen on the Internet.

Smiling, part of her mind on what she was remembering, another part still scanning the range, she remembered how upset her mother was after discovering that she had managed to get past the silly little program that purported to block children from parts of the Internet. After that, Selina had been more careful. The caution had paid off when she found the key logger shortly after her father slipped it on an unused USB port on the back of her desktop. That had taken a few more minutes to bypass without leaving a trace.

She walked over, reached up and pressed the button to bring a target frame back to the station. The machinery was almost silent, even in the quiet of the soundproofed range. Her eyes focused on the end of the range. What is that? her inquisitive mind asked. She looked around, then saw the switch on the back wall with "FALLS" written in small block letters over it. She went over and pressed the button. Turning, she saw the liquid cascade down the artificial falls at the other end of the range. Bullet trap, came instantly to her brilliant mind. Back at the firing station, she ran her hand idly over the shelf beside her, her mind quickly ascertaining what the shelf was for, then ran the target frame back to where it had been. Turning, she looked at the gun case that ran along the back wall and the cleaning table that paralleled it.

She stepped closer, looking through the glass wall of the case, but she didn't touch anything. She assumed the long case of weapons was locked, maybe even alarmed, not that she couldn't pick the lock, and with time, bypass the alarms if she had her tools, but she had left them at home. Even her mother and father would notice if she had brought something like that with her.

At home, she had thumbed through the household credit cards in the kitchen drawer when the cook wasn't looking. Quickly memorizing the numbers, expiration dates and codes, she had returned the cards. The numbers were all she needed to buy most anything she wanted on the Internet. She rotated the use of each card, forestalling the chance of someone noticing several unusual accounts listed on the billing for one card. Of course, she doubted that the accountants would bother to check, but she used discretion, anyway.

She smiled as she shut the falls off. Turning the lights out, she eased the range door closed behind her. Adults were so easy to fool. "That song," she thought as she remembered what she had said to her mother when she had caught her (Selina) listening at the door of the big living room. If she had said, Wagner's Bridal March, she might have let slip more than she intended and it would not have fit the child persona she tried so hard to maintain. She had to be on constant vigilance to act like a six-year-old. But sometimes it was amusing to stay in that persona, although, there were occasions when it became really boring to do so. But something was going to have to change. School was almost more than she could stand. For crying out loud, she had taught herself to read when she was two. And now, she read faster than any adult she had ever seen read.

They had another wedding, though. Of that, she was certain. Why would they do that? I don't have enough information — yet. But I will have.

She usually entertained herself while in her silly little school by exploring her own thoughts. Her mind was a sponge. She giggled at her use of the cliché. But she wanted to learn, and just how much was she going to learn while wasting all day in a first grade class? Still, she didn't want anyone to know just how smart she really was. She knew she was different; had known before she was two. It didn't take long to realize that people were uncomfortable with a genius, although, she was fairly sure her mother and father didn't have a clue that she was that smart. That one doctor though; he had just about figured her out before she noticed and started acting her age. The doctor had talked to her parents, and she had seen the look on her father's face a couple of times as he watched her. He was suspicious. She had to be careful.

She ambled along through the basement, occasionally opening a door, or looking into a closet. She was an enigma, particularly to her mother. More than that, she was a frustration to both her parents. She wasn't supposed to have happened. She had heard enough over her short life to know that she had been an "accident." Her mother and father had planned for two children. The first had been her sister, now twenty and in a small and very elite college for young women. Her brother, now seventeen, almost eighteen, had also been planned. He had opted to come to the wedding because he wanted to go skiing in Winter Park, otherwise, he would be at his equally elite, live-in, high school. Both of her siblings were in very expensive schools. The expense, she knew, was to salve her parents' consciences about wanting their offspring out of the house, and out of their hair — and for something to brag about to their friends and acquaintances.

Selina would normally be home while her parents attended the wedding of this very important business associate, except her live-in nanny had started having pains and was rushed to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy. Her mother had been frantically looking for a boarding school for Selina. The school she was attending in the interim was not a boarding school, although it was a fairly exclusive private school. Her mother had looked at two boarding schools that might have worked, but she had not been satisfied with their qualifications so far — nor had Selina. The main qualifications as far as her parents were concerned,  Selina thought, was a place that would keep her 24/7 and never call her parents no matter what. Oh, and it had to be elite and ... expensive, so that all her parents' friends would know how much they loved their children. Yeah, right,  she sarcastically thought. She had listened as her mother griped to a friend about not being able to travel the world as they had planned — something they had been planning to do when the first two children were out of the house and securely locked away in a boarding school somewhere. Then they had to wait until Selina was old enough to be packed off, too.

They had planned to ski the world over, among other things, and now that Selina was old enough to be boarded out, they hadn't been able to find just the exclusive school — well, the exclusive school that Selina hadn't thrown a temper tantrum over (contrived) when they began to discuss it with her. They were just a wee bit intimidated by her, realizing that she was a lot smarter than she ought to be, even though they had no real clue just how smart she actually was.

The door to Jeff's lab was locked, piquing her curiosity. But she didn't have time to look for the key or figure a way to get in. She shelved the thought for the moment, and continued her wanderings. She liked this place — the whole retreat — and the people in it. She had long since noticed that people paid little attention to her if she were quiet and didn't look directly at adults. If she just stood by a drape, for instance, sometimes slowly spinning around, supposedly for her own amusement, and presumably not paying any attention to anyone, generally people just ignored her. It had worked at the reception last night, and usually worked when her parents had parties at their home. In this manner, she had listened attentively to several conversations yesterday and last night.

She had also listened at doorways, her phenomenal hearing picking up things that few others could hear under the circumstances. She had noticed relationships here that she did not understand. But it was obvious to her that there were several women associated with the men who lived in this beautiful building — multiple women for each of the men who lived here. She had at first thought that some of the women were sisters, but had noticed more than one woman kiss the same man, and most of the women wore wedding bands. Something was different about the bridesmaids, too. Maybe not wrong per se, but something different. One of the tall men, Mr. Matthews, had seen her as she stood concealed in the thick drapes looking through the tiny crack between the folds of heavy cloth. He had looked straight at her and smiled. He couldn't have seen her — but he had. She had suddenly had an urge to go sit in his lap. Somehow she knew she would be safe with him, but she had resisted. Eventually, he had looked away and had not revealed her presence to the other people nearby — at least as far as she could determine.

A little later last night, she had listened as the women talked. Some of them were hardly more than girls, and one woman who was older, but somehow didn't look as old as she seemed. Selena had heard her full name when the woman had introduced herself to one of the guests. Her name was Helen Boswell, and the girls with her were talking about a school project. Obviously, Helen was a teacher. She wondered if this woman was the Doctor Helen Boswell she had read about. She would have to look into that. Later they said something about their old classroom, and mentioned their new classroom that was nearing completion on the second floor. This school is becoming more interesting all the time — something else to check out before we leave,  she thought.

She continued to listen. Eventually, it all came together. They not only had a school here, but it was a very, very private school. She didn't know a lot about high school, at least from personal experience, but she could read almost as fast as she could turn the pages of a book, and not just children's books, either. She frowned as her thoughts skated across the memory of having to read the dumb little sentences aloud to her first grade teacher. Of course, she had glanced through her school books when they were passed out, instantly memorizing everything, so when her turn came to read, she had focused her mind on something else, bored, and deliberately stumbled through the kiddy words in the book, actually reciting, instead of reading. The teacher bought it, though. But this school didn't sound like the schools she knew about. Also, the girls, though not old enough for college, were taking college courses.

She was intrigued and had to know more, but breakfast would be served soon, and if she didn't show, her mother would come looking, probably becoming even more suspicious than she already was. She returned the lighting to the way it was before she began her basement explorations, then hurried back up the stairs. Peeking out the stairway door, she then walked casually out and skipped along toward the dining room, the persona of a normal six-year-old firmly in place. Now to find out more about these people and the school here. Her parents were trying to find a school to dump her in. Maybe she had just solved their problem.

-------

Frank, looking for Jeff, found him in the living room talking to one of the guests. "Can I speak to you for a minute?"

Jeff told the guest to enjoy himself and followed Frank into the hallway where they eventually found an alcove free of guests where they could talk.

Jeff sat and crossed his legs. "What gives?"

"Uh, I have a request. Well, actually it isn't me. Phillip and Dessie Albright want to do a little skiing. Well, actually, they and their seventeen-year-old son want to. I was wondering if you would mind loaning them one of the Escalades so they don't have to go through the hassle of having the ski lodge send someone up here to pick them up, or maybe having to rent a vehicle. Apparently they already had reservations for a suite at one of the lodges."

"Oh, I know who you're talking about. Don't they also have a young daughter? I saw her peeking through the drapes last night."

"Yeah, that's them. They're calling around trying to find a child care center that will keep the girl this afternoon and tomorrow while they try out the slopes above Winter Park."

"The boy is going with them?"

"Yeah, he's in a boarding school, but came with them this weekend because he likes to ski, too. I think they're going to let him skip a couple days of school if they like the skiing in Winter Park."

"So, point them to an Escalade. You don't have to ask my permission."

"Your house and your vehicle..." Frank started.

"Bullshit. How many times do we have to go over this?" Jeff laughed. "This is your home. What about the child? Do you think they will be able to find a place for her on a Saturday?"

"No," Frank said, "but when Margaret heard, she volunteered to watch out for Selina, if it was all right with me, and you, of course."

Jeff smiled at the memory. "Like I said, I saw her last night hiding behind a drape. We had eye contact, but she just stood quietly and watched. I almost walked over to her, but somehow I didn't want to give her away."

Frank sighed. "Albright and I do quite a bit of business — well, I do business with his company, but most of the time, he's off somewhere and his vice president steps in. Can't blame Albright, though; he's old money, and doesn't have to work at all, though he does, and quite capably too. Before they came for the wedding, I'd only seen the younger child one time about a year ago, although, I've been around Phillip and his wife a good bit. I think they have an additional older child, a girl I think. I'm surprised that they brought their son with them, though. I gather that the older girl is in school somewhere, and the boy would be, too, but he wanted to go skiing in Winter Park."

"Point them toward an Escalade and send them on their way. If Margaret wants to look after the girl, I certainly have no problem with that. I imagine my wives will be thrilled to have her here for a couple of days."

-------

The Albrights, their son and Selina stood in the hallway talking to Jeff, Diana, Frank and Margaret. "Mr. Matthews and Mrs. Matthews we certainly appreciate the loan of your vehicle. We'll be glad to reimburse you for your inconvenience..."

"Nonsense," Diana broke in as Jeff shook his head, "There is no inconvenience. And we're thrilled that Selina is going to stay with us for a couple days. So don't you worry about her. We all love children and there are plenty of us here to watch after her."

"Well, she doesn't break things, or cause any trouble — generally. Her curiosity is sometimes ... a little daunting, though." Then staring at Selina as she stood by Margaret, "Your father and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Yes, Mother," Selina answered in her tiny, lilting voice that exuded humble.

You would have to be blind not to see the intelligence in that little girl's eyes,  Jeff thought, and he knew Diana was thinking about the same thing as she caught his eye for a moment. Yeah, this might be fun.

The parents and the son were hardly out the door when Selina turned to Jeff. "I would like to speak with your school teacher, if I may," her diction was clear and precise, the persona of a six-year-old suddenly gone.

"Di, get Helen, please," Jeff absently said as he took Selina's hand. "Tell everyone to come to the kitchen. Would you like a cup of hot chocolate, Selina? Does that sound good?"

"Excellent," she said as Margaret and Frank looked at each other, astonished.

-------

In the kitchen, "I would offer you coffee, despite your age, but I suspect your parents wouldn't approve," the Prime said as Selina sat in the kitchen chair closest to the end of the table.

"A booster chair?" Jeff asked the small girl.

"A cushion from one of the couches in the living room would suffice and give me a little more dignity," the six-year-old said.

Arlene, who had just walked in, turned and went after the cushion.

Diana came in with Helen. At a gesture from Diana, Helen sat across the table from Selina, near the end where Jeff was. Diana, bemused, began preparing hot chocolate for everyone.

Arlene came back in and helped Selina get the cushion onto the chair and Selina again seated, this time high enough so that she was more comfortable reaching for food or drink on the table. Jeff's other wives filed in. Shortly, Kayla and the three girls came in, also

"The reason I called this meeting," Jeff joked.

But Selina chuckled instead of the expected giggle. "I am interested in your school, Ma'am," Selina said as she looked at Helen. "My parents are trying to find a boarding school that will keep me 24/7 so that they can ski on mountains around the world. They love to travel, and I'm a hindrance to their goals — goals they have put off until I became old enough to attend such a school. My siblings, one you have seen, are both in boarding schools. CeeCee is in an exclusive college, and Phillip Jr. is in a small and extremely exclusive high school in Saint Louis. I have overheard conversations while here that have piqued my curiosity about your school. I would like to learn more about you and your school, but I am almost positive that I would like to enroll here, if you will accept someone not family, and my age."

There was suddenly total quiet in the kitchen.

Helen, bemusement evident as she looked at Selina, glanced first at Jeff, then Diana. "Do your parents know?" Helen asked. "And I'm obviously not talking about the school, or your remarks about them wanting to foster you off so they can travel."

"No," Selina answered. "They think I'm a normal child — maybe a little smarter than usual."

"Have you ever taken an IQ test?"

"One, but I..."

"Fooled them about it," Helen interjected.

"Yes," was the simple answer.

Helen looked at Jeff for an instant. "Jeff is the master of this household, and Diana is our Queen."

"You are one of his wives," Selina calmly stated, astonishing everyone in the room.

You could have heard the proverbial pin drop for the next few seconds, then Jeff chuckled.

Selina shrugged her small shoulders. "I have exceptional hearing, plus people tend to discount me when I am quiet and just hang around. I have heard things and seen things that lead me to conclude that each man who lives here has at least two women associated with him. I haven't heard everyone's name yet, but everyone female in this room, with the exception of Tina and Mrs. Wainwright, are associated with Mr. Matthews.

"Another man, Dave, has three women associated with him. And Captain Madison has two women associated with him. My mother found me last night and ran me off to bed before my research was complete, however."

Frank grinned at Jeff. "If I thought I could get away with it, I would hire her." Jeff wasn't sure whether Frank was joking or not.

Diana, Arlene and Jeff's younger wives began putting cups of hot chocolate on the table. Jeff reached over and squeezed Helen's hand. "I suggest you give our small friend here a tour of the place with an emphasis on our school."

"I would be glad to," Helen said as she smiled at Selina.

-------

Shortly after lunch, Frank, Margaret, Tina, Jeff and Diana seated themselves in the living room. From the sigh that Margaret let out, collapsed might have been a better choice of words rather than seated. "If it hadn't been for the business, we could just have had family at the wedding like you guys do when you have one," Margaret said as she looked at the Prime and his Queen.

"Well, it was a bit... different with all those people here," Diana chuckled. "I still think it was hilarious that those women tried to be so subtle when they asked you who your surgeon was. I'll bet they hate your guts for not telling them his name."

Margaret leaned back in her seat, reaching over to take her husband's hand as she did so. "What was I to say? I couldn't say that my new looks came from..." and the block froze her next words.

Margaret, incredulous at the feeling, also felt guilt from not being able to talk in front of Tina. Margaret had thought, like most everyone else, that the blocks really hadn't worked on her, no matter what the General said. She hadn't felt any different, well ... not until she broached a restricted subject in front of someone not blocked. She opened her mouth to try and say something that would not mention Little One specifically, but would allow her to continue with the obviously aborted conversation. Surely she could make a joke about an alien making her look young. Nausea welled up in her throat. This was ridiculous, surely she could still say...

Violent nausea ripped through her. She clapped her hand over her mouth and ran for the bathroom, Frank trying to hold her and run with her at the same time.

Tina, mystified, got up to go with Margaret.

"No, I'll go," Diana said, then to Jeff, "There's a simple solution to this. Tina's obviously going to be one of us. Put the blocks in so we can talk for real. She's going to be Frank's woman. We all know that." Diana hurried after Margaret.

"What happened?" Tina asked, as she nodded toward the trio headed for the bathroom, her demeanor not quite frantic, but definitely very worried. "It seemed like she got sick when she was trying to tell me something. Maybe I should go with her, too."

Jeff, shaking his head, picked up the phone, hit the PA button and said, "Arlene, I need you in the living room ASAP."

Seconds later, Arlene and Ann came running in. "What..."

Jeff nodded toward the bathroom at the other end of the living room. "Margaret pushed the blocks a little. Diana and Frank are in the bathroom with her now, but I need Diana out here. Would you two go take care of Margaret so Diana can talk to Tina? And send Frank back out here before he gets Margaret even more upset."

-------

A couple minutes later, Diana and Frank came back, Diana sitting by her Prime while Tina and Frank sat on a facing couch, Frank looking worried as he unconsciously took Tina's hand.

Diana smiled at Jeff. "Margaret isn't as bad as you were. Not even close."

Jeff let out a sick chuckle. "I pushed several times over an extended period. The block finally shut me down. I suspect she only tried a couple times and didn't push hard."

"About what she said," Diana agreed.

"What are you two talking about? What is this block thing?" Tina asked, flustered.

Jeff nudged Diana.

"Uh, I'll try to give you some background while we're waiting for Margaret. You see, my husband is a colonel in an outfit you never heard of." Diana felt a nudge in her mind — something she had never felt before, but knew she was skating on thin ice. "Uh, to protect military secrets, all of us have agreed to undergo something that is called a block. Margaret must have come close to saying something that was prohibited. It happened to Jeff when he tried to talk to us about something that was ... out of bounds. He pushed and the block made him very sick."

"It sounds horrible," Tina injected.

"It isn't," Jeff offered. "It keeps us from inadvertently blurting something out, but as long as the person you're talking to is blocked as well, you can say anything you want. It's a little like giving your conscience some muscle. Margaret will recover quickly and no real harm will ever happen to her because of the blocks."

"If you're going to become part of Frank and Margaret's life, you'll have to undergo the block," Diana said, but knew she hadn't eased Tina's mind with the statement.

"I don't know. I..."

Frank entered the conversation with, "Margaret, in her enthusiasm, had forgotten that you weren't blocked, but I guess her subconscious hadn't. She was going to say something about someone who we frequently talk about..." Frank suddenly stopped and seemed to search for words. "Oh, hell. I guess the bottom line is that we literally can't tell you much more without your being blocked. But I don't know what to say — or more precisely — what I can say to ease your mind, other than the procedure doesn't hurt, and you won't feel a thing. Heck, Margaret and I both thought the block hadn't worked on us, but it obviously did, at least on Margaret."

"So you want me to do it?" Tina said.

Frank sighed, "Yeah, Kiddo. I want you to do it."

"Then I will," Tina said with finality, the trust in her Alpha already beginning to show.

"Do you want to wait until Margaret is back?" Diana quietly said.

Tina looked at Frank. "Only takes a few minutes," he supplied.

Tina stood, "Then let's do it before I change my mind."

"Sit," Jeff said. "No need to go anywhere. I'll bring the equipment in here."



-------

Chapter 93

Later, after using the equipment on Tina, Jeff met Frank in the hallway. "So how long are you two going to put off your trip?"

Instead of answering, Frank motioned toward the kitchen. "I think better with a cup of coffee in my hand. I guess the same goes for talking. Let's get a cup and let me run some things by you."

Some couple of minutes later, they were sitting at the big kitchen table, coffee and a chunk of the big wedding cake in front of them.

Frank cut each of them a piece out of the chunk. Taking a bite, he said, "This is the best cake I think I've ever tasted."

Jeff chuckled. "You say that every time you eat one of Diana's cakes."

"Well, hell. It's always true," Wainwright joked.

The men ate cake and sipped their coffee in silence for a time, finally, "I need to ask you some things," Wainwright said.

"Shoot. I don't have any secrets from you. You know that."

Frank sat staring at the wall for a moment, then turning to Jeff, "About this thing with Tina, Margaret is pushing me to go ahead and marry the girl. Shit, Jeff, I just met her..."

Jeff's laughter drowned out Frank's comment. "Do you honestly think you're going to get sympathy from me?" After a moment he continued with, "Seems like I just said that a while back. Anyway, look around you, my friend, I have nine wives, and my Queen sent me, sent me now, to go and bring her mother to our bed last night. Not to mention that Kayla is now one of my mates, as you know."

"Yeah, but Jeff, that's you. We're talking about me — an old man. Hell, I'm almost fifty, for crying out loud. Fifty."

"Yeah, and your face looks forty or less, and you have the body of a very athletic twenty-five year old. You could look any age you want, and we both know it. You chose to look a little older because of your business. And ... how many times did you make love to your bride last night, hmmm? Just like I found out, and Fred found out, you can go as long as you need to, and your women can touch you while you're making love to one of them, and the ones touching you will get just as much out of it as the woman you're making love to. Arlene says that she even has the same aftereffects."

"Aftereffects?"

"Yeah, sore, stretched feeling, she claims."

"That's..."

"Yeah. About what I thought, too," Jeff said.

Frank hesitated and Jeff continued. "If you're actually asking me if you can take care of two women..."

But Frank was shaking his head. "No. I'm really not worried much about that. Since Little One did her thing, if Margaret wants me again, my dick just gets back up again. If I need it, it's there, and I seem to never run out of come. But this is so quick, and Margaret is so sure."

Jeff broke in with, "Do you love Tina?"

"That's just it. I do love her. It happened just like that," he said, snapping his fingers. "Margaret said Tina was the one, and told me to kiss her. It was almost like a spark as she got in my personal space — just like with Margaret. It just isn't ... natural. How can I fall in love that quickly? How can Tina?"

"You've always been an Alpha; now you're an enhanced Alpha — nearer to being what you were intended to be, I guess. Little One doesn't seem to find it unusual for an Alpha or a Prime to fall in love almost instantly, or his mates with him. She sends me mental images that I don't understand every time I try to talk to her about the subject. All I know is I love my women. The first ones came along gradually — well kind of, but I'm beginning to give up to it now."

"So why haven't you married Kayla and the girls, then?"

Jeff took another bite of cake, then washed it down with a sip of coffee, thinking. Finally, he sighed, "Good point. It still seems strange to me to fall in love so quickly, too, I guess. But you're right; I do love them. Maybe I just know it's logical that I take care of the girls. And Kayla, she's ... a warrior. They put her in, or she put herself in, the wrong profession. I'm sure she's a good anthropologist, but she takes naturally to battle. She has battle reflexes ... and battle instincts. I guess the General figured her out and sent her to be my security. Last level, as I think he put it. He seemed proud of sending her to take care of the girls. But he knew what would happen. The son-of-a-bitch didn't earn the rank by being stupid," he said with a grin. "He suckered me all the way. But suckered or not, I came out of it with a fine mate."

"And when are you going to marry her?"

"Soon. I'll leave that to my Queen. She'll tell me when. Only fight the battles you can win, my friend. Only the ones you can win."

The men pushed back from the table. "I can't believe we ate that whole big piece," Wainwright said.

"Ah, they knew we would. That's the reason they left it here on the table," Jeff commented. As if on cue, Margaret, Tina and Diana walked in. Margaret plopped down in Frank's lap, while Tina sat next to them. Diana slid a chair next to her husband and sat, taking his hand.

"Selina still with Helen?" Frank asked.

"Yeah," Margaret answered. "They seem enthused with each other — and that's an understatement."

"So you guys have decided to wait a few days before leaving on your honeymoon? I'll be glad to watch out for Selina, if you change your mind about leaving." Tina said.

The newlyweds looked at each other, then Margaret reached over and grabbed Tina's hand. "No. It's more than Selina. But we have definitely decided to wait a few days," Margaret said.

Frank cleared his throat. "We ... the three of us, need to get to know each other a little better before Margaret and I leave for a week."

"What about Bill? How many trips is his group going to be making to get all your guests home?" Jeff asked.

"They're taking one group back today, then laying over in Saint Louis and coming back in the morning. We have chartered planes lined up for the rest of the guests. Heck, a lot of them are home already, I guess."

The kitchen door burst open. Jeff's younger wives, Kayla, and the new girls trooped in. "Okaaay," Arlene laughed out. "Nobody here but us chickens. Time to have some fun. No use letting all those snowmobiles that Frank has bought us go to waste. What about a ride around the long trail, huh, Husband?" she said, plopping down in Jeff's lap and kissing him hard on the mouth.

"You forgot about Selina," Jeff said when Arlene finally took her mouth from his. "She's too small to be riding around a rough trail on a snowmobile."

Arlene laughed. "Don't bet on that, but she and Helen seem to be attached at the hip right now. I just talked to Helen and she said she wasn't interested in going. The two of them headed back to our classroom after lunch. They'll probably be there a while."

Nat, Nicki and Whitney crowded around and Arlene soon relinquished her seat as the three took their turn to kiss Jeff.

Diana stood, laughing. "Enough, Girls. The man won't be able to stand in polite company if you keep that up?"

"What polite company," Laura chuckled as she mussed Frank's hair while standing behind him.

Soon, dressed in snowmobile outfits, the clan met in the back. As Jeff started to get on one of the snowmobiles, expecting Diana to ride with him, Arlene grabbed his hand. "Ride with me. I'm driving. You've only been around the trail once. There are some great places to get airborne if your speed is just right."

"Oh, shit," Jeff muttered under his breath, remembering Arlene's trip down the driveway on the snowboard.

Kayla grabbed Tina before she could feel left out. "Come on. You ride with me. Let the newlyweds slug along behind."

Arlene barely managed to get her machine started and moving before Kayla and Tina managed theirs. Jeff grabbed hold as Arlene opened the throttle and held it there.

A few minutes later: She drives an Escalade like a tottering old lady, but she has one speed on a snowmobile — wide open. Then, I'm going to die, Jeff thought as Arlene went over the first hump, the engine suddenly screaming as the track spun free.

-------

"Matthews' residence. Ann speaking."

"Hey, Baby. How're things on the hill?"

"Oh hi, Fred. Things are great on the 'hill, '" she giggled. "Boy, you sound good. Got a good tan yet?"

Fred chuckled. "Yep, and a little of it is all over."

"Can I put you on speaker? Everyone is in the living room."

"Sure. I'm putting you on speaker here, too, so we can all talk."

After greetings from everyone, "So where are you guys?" Jeff asked.

There was a tittering of female laughter, then Fred said, "Well..."

"We're not far from a nude beach at Playalinda Beach, Florida," Carla said.

"Where in the heck is that?" Jeff asked, laughing.

"It's a beach on the Cape Canaveral National Seashore property," Jessica supplied, giggling. "We had a ball there today."

"Well, we did most of the time," Fred laughed.

"What?" Brenda broke in laughing. "I had a great time — all the time."

All Fred's women laughed.

"Okay, tell us all," Diana said.

Fred started with, "Well, you know there always has to be one. We had been playing in the water..."

"All of you nude?" Arlene broke in.

"Yeah," Fred continued. "Well, we had a couple of boards out in the water. There wasn't enough surf to do anything, and none of us could ride a board very well, anyway. So we were just paddling around and having a good time with the small waves. Brenda and Carla were thirsty, so they decided to go back up on the beach to get a soft drink out of our cooler..."

"Oh, shit," Jeff said. "You didn't kill anybody did you?"

Fred's chuckle came over the phone. "No. He only has a broken nose — I got there in time to save his life. This idiot wanted to play grab ass with Brenda. She told him to back off when he ... felt her up. I guess he figured he could get a good feel of her breasts, then be gone before I could get through the water to the beach, then get to him. Either that, or he was just plain stupid. Anyway..."

Audrey broke in with, "Brenda snap kicked him in the nose. Boy, did he bleed. We borrowed a kid's sand bucket and poured sea water on him to bring him to. He was a bit groggy when he left, but he was very anxious to leave."

"He was stretched out on the ground with his nose rearranged by the time I managed to get out of the water," Fred said, chuckling.

"I didn't kick him hard," Brenda objected. "I pulled the kick. I didn't want to risk driving cartilage into his brain."

"I'll bet his version didn't mention anything about her pulling the kick," Jessica laughed.

"Well, anyway," Carla said, "That got us all ... excited. We had to cut the beach time short and go back to the RV for a little ... well you know."

At the retreat, the new girls' faces were red, but they were giggling like crazy while holding their hands over their mouths.

"What was really funny," Jessica said, "was Fred yelling to Brenda, 'Don't kill him, Baby. Don't kill him, Baby, ' as he was trying to get to shore. People were looking at him like he was crazy, but when Brenda kicked the asshole and the blood splattered everywhere, they all seemed to have someplace they needed to go — in a hurry."

"Boy, I wish I could have seen that," Jeff said when the laughter died down.

Jessica spoke up, "Well ... now that you mention it, this cute guy had videoed it, and he was..."

"Overjoyed," Fred offered.

Jessica laughed, "'Overjoyed' to offer me a copy of the video. He thought he was going to get lucky," she giggled. "Anyway, I let him have one of my flash drives, and he copied the video to it, so you'll get to see it when we get back. Or better yet, I'll e-mail you the file."

Fred chuckled, saying, "I doubt if the kid would recognize Jessica on the street tomorrow unless she was topless."

"Oh, he would, too," Jessica laughed.

The talk continued on for several minutes. As things began to wind down, Jeff picked up the phone and hit the speaker button again to make the conversation private. "Fred, I need to ask you to do me a favor."

"All you have to do is ask," Fred's voice came back, his speaker now obviously turned off as well.

Jeff turned to Susan. "Pick up one of the other phones and get on line one with me, please."

"What are your trip plans?" Jeff asked as Susan walked toward one of the other phones in the living room.

"We don't have any, other than just looking at the map, or some brochures and picking the next place we head out to. We've talked about going straight on down to Key West, then starting back home, stopping off when we see something that is interesting. Why do you ask?"

Susan picked up another portable. "Hi, Fred. I'm on."

"Tell him what we talked about," Jeff said to Susan.

"Uh, Fred, we've only met once, I think, but Jeff said I could ask a favor of you."

"Hi Susan. I take it that you're one of Jeff's mates now?"

Jeff could see Susan's face flame as she looked in his direction. "I ... uh, yes, I'm one of his mates." After a couple of seconds, she continued in a stronger voice with, "And, I'm proud to be one of his mates."

"Then I will do anything that is in my power to do, and so will my women."

"Go on, Baby. Or do you want me to ask him?" Jeff said, smiling at her.

"Fred, I was renting an apartment, actually a small house, in a not too nice section of Miami. It's furnished, but I have a few clothes and personal items that I would like to have. I'm going to be living here permanently now..."

"No problem," Fred broke in. "How do we get a key?"

"As you face the house from the street, the lady who lives in the house on the left has a key. The house is blue. She'll let you in. I've already talked to her and told her I was going to ask you, if you were close."

"Well, we're headed that way, so it sure won't be any trouble. But I suspect you'll feel better talking to my women about this. Just give them the address and tell them what you need. Hang on. I'll put you back on speaker and get out of the way so they can talk to you."

"Thanks Fred. You barely know me, and you're doing this for me. I really appreciate it."

"No problem. We're family. We're all family. If you don't believe it, ask Jeff."

"Definitely," Jeff said. "I'm going to get off the phone now, too, but you keep us posted, Fred."

"I will, Buddy."

Jeff put his phone back on the charger and went to cuddle with Melissa as Susan and Fred's women began their conversation.

-------

Helen and Selina sat in the classroom, Helen sipping from a cup of coffee, the six-year-old having talked Helen into a cup of coffee also. Well, some coffee, a whole lot of creamer and several packs of Splenda. Helen balked at the sugar Selina had wanted.

"I drink coffee for breakfast," Selina said, hiding a smirk. "But Mom gets upset if I drink it any other time. I still can't find any real evidence that it is 'bad' for me, to use my mother's terminology. And a cup of coffee — at least the way I drink it — has much less caffeine than the average soft drink. If you should choose to allow me to attend your school, I will, of course, adhere to your rules. But I would, however, ask you and the other people here to treat me as the person I am, not the child that the appearance of my body presupposes."

"As I mentioned, our school, so far, has only allowed family members, and the youngest has been fifteen..."

"Ah, yes — family members. I have overheard a number of, sometimes disjointed, conversations. Adults frequently pay little attention to children under certain conditions..."

"And I imagine you have taken that to a new level," Helen interjected.

"Uh..." Selina said, her face blushing, much to her consternation. "That is so, but still, I have come to some partial conclusions about the relationships here. I will need further research, of course, but even at this stage, it is becoming obvious that this 'family' that you refer to is ... unusual — intriguing. From my studies of anthropology, I suspect that the relationships here are a ... throwback to other cultures long past. Bear in mind, that I only have conversations and a small amount of observations to go on at this point, but even so, I am beginning to reach conclusions.

"For instance, the wedding bands that you and several of the women and girls here wear, are basically identical to the band that Mr. Matthews wears. At least two other women wear a ring similar to the one that Dave wears. I have not heard his last name, but I have repeatedly heard his first name, as well as having heard those same women refer to him by endearments. I know that he and Evie work for Mr. Matthews, but some of the conversations that I have heard parts of imply that there is more to the relationship than just that of employee to employer.

"I have heard two of the wedding guests' comments about Tina in reference to Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright's recent marriage."

"Comments?" Helen asked.

"Yes. 'They are treating that girl as if she were his wife, too. Margaret better watch out or that little hussy just might steal Frank from her, '" Selina quoted.

"If only they knew," Helen chuckled. "Where did you hear that?"

"Two women standing in the hallway. I did not hear their names. They thought I was too far away to hear them, and probably did not think I would understand if I did hear them."

"And you're sure your mother and father will let you attend our school?"

"Under the right conditions, they will be very enthusiastic about my attending."

"And those conditions?"

"The school must be exclusive, full-time live-in with everything provided, and ... expensive. My father is rich, as was his father. My brother and sister are enrolled in very expensive and exclusive schools. I must be provided for 24/7, and that includes all emergencies. If I become ill, doctors and hospitalization must be part of the agreement. My parents will want to be notified, of course, but unless I become truly critical, they will not want to attend. They wish to travel, and have delayed their dreams until I have reached an age that they feel will allow them to board me off.

"I have rejected the two boarding schools they have 'suggested, '" she finished with a smirk. "Yours is the only school that has piqued my curiosity so far. I am intrigued with what you have shown and told me." There was a hesitation, then, "I would like to formally request that I be allowed to attend your school as a live-in student. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I promise to refrain from anything that might cause you concern.

"We have not discussed tuition, but I will give you the tuition rates from the two schools my parent's presented for my perusal. I suggest that you triple the highest rate quoted to them. Mother and Father seem to think that price of an object totally relates to quality. If the price of my schooling is high enough, the chances of them allowing me to reside here and attend your school will increase dramatically."

Helen realized that her cup was empty, and got up to refill it. Selina held hers out as well. Helen almost said no, but poured a half-cup, then returned to her seat to watch as Selina put almost half a cup of creamer, then four packs of Splenda into her cup.

"You remind me of me at your age, you know, and I'm not talking about the coffee."

Selina took a sip, then looked over the rim of her cup, the gesture astonishingly adult, although she held the cup in both hands. Still her eyes sparkled with intelligence, an intelligence that called to Helen — called loudly.

"So what are your parents' plans?"

Selina stirred her mixture, then put her cup down and slid back in her seat, her feet well off the floor. Locking her hands in front of her, she contemplated Helen's question. "I suspect that they will spend several days skiing, and despite what my brother thinks, I imagine they will put him on a plane to Saint Louis by tomorrow night so that he will be back at school Monday morning. They might, perhaps, let him stay out of school Monday, but I doubt it. Particularly if they find someone to 'play' with."

Helen raised an eyebrow, wondering.

"Yes, you understand what I mean. They're swingers. They like to swap marital partners. They have been very discreet, but again, they continually underestimate my ability to overhear their conversations."

"Have they..."

"Oh, no. They always leave for a 'party, ' then if they return home the same night, they smell freshly showered."

"Selina, I don't know whether your attending our school would be best. We..."

"Ms. Boswell ... it is obvious that you are one of many wives Mr. Matthews has. And I also realize that you wish that to remain a fact known by only a few people. Again, I am not the child you see before you. I have no experience with sex, and I admit that I really cannot see what all the excitement is about. I also realize that I will most probably change my mind about that when I reach puberty. Now, however, it is nothing more than a curiosity to me — a boring curiosity, if you permit me the dichotomy. I have studied sex in detail, as I have many things. I have also observed my parents when they have engaged in it — unknown to them, of course. It still seems boring."

Helen had to smile despite trying not to. "Do you know what an Alpha male is?"

"I have heard a politician suggest that he was one, and have heard one of my father's friends joke of it. But other than the definition, and the association with alpha males in animals, I know little about the subject in relation to our species."

"Well, neither did I until I met one..."

"The inference is that Mr. Matthews is an alpha male. You wear his ring."

"As do eight other women at present, and there will be several more soon. One of the problems I foresee about your living with us is that this is our home. Sometimes, we aren't as discreet as we would have to be with your living here with us would dictate. It's not as if we blatantly have sex orgies outside our bedroom, but there is an occasional exhibition of affection that has sexual content. That would have to be restricted with you living here, and would not be received well with some of our Prime's younger wives. Perhaps, even his older ones. Even though you are not a child mentally, you are still, indeed, a child. We are not child molesters, and would not have a child participate in anything remotely sexual, even to the point of secretly watching."

"And what will your Alpha male have to say about my petition."

"I suspect that he will defer it to a family vote. Sometimes we have family meetings to discuss things that will affect all of us as a group. If so, I will discuss our conversation in detail with everyone. Then, if there are no outright objections, I imagine there will be questions for you. If they vote to commit to this, there will have to be changes and modifications to some of our conduct, and assurances from you as well. There are some very smart people in our group. Indeed, all of my sister-wives are extremely intelligent. Apparently it is one of the criteria that our Queen demands when she chooses a wife for our mate. Not only is our mate an Alpha, but he is a Prime as well. I won't go into more detail about that now, but if you become a student here, I will."

Selina slid back closer to the table to take another sip of her coffee. "So when will I know?" she asked, and for the first time, her face showed a deep concern.

"I will talk to our Prime and my Queen now, if you like. After that, it is up to them."

"I will go back to my parents' suite and await your summons, then."



-------

Chapter 94

ATLANTA GEORGIA

In the lot of a McDonalds, two tired men sat in a vehicle. The SAC and his assistant were just finishing their breakfast/lunch, since neither had eaten in a while.

"You get anything to eat last night?" Whatley, the SAC asked his second in command.

"Yeah, some uniform brought me a hamburger and a coke about two this morning. Just shoved it in my hands and left."

"About the same for me." There was a long pause. "Shit this is a mess. And the news media..."

Grigsby, the ASAC didn't bother to answer. Then, "What did the director say?"

"About what you would expect from a politician. I got the distinct impression he wants to keep plausible deniability."

"Why? We haven't done anything wrong. Heck, the deep cover agent wasn't even our idea. All this came from Denver and they said it was a chance to get information about the slave trade. They're the ones who sent the guy. We didn't even get to talk to him beforehand, and we've heard damn little from him since. I identified him at the hospital by the picture Denver sent us. Besides all that, what possible fallout could affect the director?"

"Who knows? Of course we're still mostly guessing what actually happened in that motel room, anyway." The SAC wiped his hand down his face as if to wipe the fatigue away. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. "Let's start again and go over what we know. I'm so damn tired that my mind feels numb."

The ASAC had a cramp in his leg. He slid the seat back as far as he could so that he could stretch out his legs a little, then leaning forward rubbed the calf of his right leg. "Crap, that hurts."

"Still bothers you, huh?"

"Yeah, when I'm on my feet for a long time. I'm glad it was a .22 that bitch was using. If it had been a .45, I would never have walked without a limp."

The men sat silent for a moment. The SAC rubbed his eyes again, sighed, and looked over at his assistant, "All right; talk to me. Let's go over it again. What do we know?"

"Well, nobody in the room had an ID on them. Nobody. We found a vehicle we think three of the guys and Hanes, the undercover guy, came in — we think. It's registered to somebody in Texas, but there was no one in the motel who admitted to being from Texas or that claimed the car. The prints haven't come back on anyone yet; the 'registered' owner doesn't answer his phone, and the cops there said the house appeared deserted. We matched two of the guns to two of the people in the room. But the gun we think was Hanes' doesn't have a print on it, nor does it have a single print on the magazine or any of the ammunition.

"They're still running ballistics on all those bullets. Some that went through a body, or missed, hit those cinder block walls the motel is built out of, and destroyed any chance of getting any riflings off the slugs. We know that two of those men were killed by bullets from one of the 9 mm pistols on the floor, though. As you know, about the only place on the outside of a Glock that will take prints is the slide. The rest of the surface is pebbled for a good grip, making a surface that's far too rough to show a print. Most of the time, putting the weapon in a holster or stuffing it down inside your pants, smears or wipes off any prints that might be on the slide. Frequently, there will be prints on the ammunition, but whoever loaded the weapon apparently wanted his ammo to be clean of any gun oil, or maybe prints. Anyway, the ammo was clean of everything — including prints. That weapon was far cleaner than the others in the room. Registration doesn't seem to exist for it, but we think that Hanes might have been given it to use. Think. As far as that's concerned, none of the weapons are registered.

"Two of the other weapons were not as clean, and there were prints on the ammo that was in the magazines, so we were able to match those weapons to two of the dead men. Both of them were shot with the clean weapon I just talked about. Like I said, we think that weapon belonged to Hanes. One of his last messages said they were apparently trusting him more and had given him a weapon. One weapon was silenced, and we think it was fired by the guy who looks foreign. That leaves the guy whose brains are all over the wall. The remaining gun was near his body, but hell, they were all almost in a pile, except one guy who was maybe five feet away. The only other one living is the girl, and she's practically comatose. She just sits and stares. Until Hanes tells us what happened, we're just guessing.

"Paramedics can't tell us anything, and incidentally, they're in trouble themselves. Seems like one of their captains was sitting at an intersection when they blew through it. The cops had blocked the intersection, but the captain swears they were running close to a hundred miles an hour. I think that's bullshit, but the paramedic driving told me he wasn't looking at his speedometer and was running as fast as the rig would go."

The SAC spoke up. "I talked to the surgeon. He said that another two minutes and he would not have had a live person to operate on. Those paramedics saved Hanes' life — well, if he lives."

The ASAC shrugged. "Yeah, and they're going to get days off without pay — at the very least, from what I hear. They saved our guy, but violated some rules to do it. From what I hear, they have a bit of a reputation for getting the job done and sometimes not paying a lot of attention to the rules while they're doing it."

"Fuck. Maybe I can nip it in the bud. I'll get our PR person to mention them — make them out to be heroes. Maybe that will help. Get their names for me and I'll have Olivia write them a letter of commendation from me and send it to their chief, as well. At least if they go down, they will have something to brag about."

"Better do it soon. I suspect that captain isn't going to wait long." The ASAC thumbed through his notes, then copied the paramedics' names down and handed the sheet to his boss. "What did that doc you talked to say about Hanes?"

"I still couldn't pin him down and get him to say whether Hanes will live or not. I only got that one glance at Hanes after they brought him back from surgery. He has tubes down his throat from the ventilator that's breathing for him. He has an array of IVs, and there are tubes coming out his side and back — hell, everywhere, it seemed to me. It doesn't look good for him — not good at all."

THE RETREAT

Jeff, Diana and Helen were in one of the smaller conference rooms. Jeff sat at the end of the table. He was leaning back in his chair with his legs across the right corner of the conference table. Helen and Diana had a soft drink in front of them as they sat at the table together and to Jeff's left. Both women looked concerned.

"This would be a big step for us," Jeff quietly said. "Having a child, not our own, in our home all the time might very well have some negative effects that none of us anticipate."

Helen frowned. "I told Selina that some, or all of us, might not be overjoyed to have to restrict our total sexual behavior to our bedroom. Your younger wives seem to enjoy initiating sex with you in the living room and various other places."

"You talked about sex to a six-year-old?" Jeff said, a slight frown on his face.

Helen smiled at her husband. "Love, you need to stop thinking that way. She is not your average six-year-old."

Diana continued with, "It might not just be your younger wives who would be restricted with sexual activities. I obviously like to be nursed. We have even had some ... limited sex in the living room while Dave and Evie were doing the same thing. I know none of us would ever consider swapping partners, but it was fun making love with another couple not far away doing the same thing, even though that was not our original intention."

"Well, you can bet that Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa will not be pleased when they can't have total sexual spontaneity," Helen agreed. "And I would hate to think that I couldn't sit in my husband's lap and have him nurse my breasts as well — anywhere in the retreat, but ... Selina is an intriguing little girl. We have very long lives ahead of us, according to Little One. Time passes swiftly. Selina will be a grown woman one of these days and we might very well look back and wish that we had nurtured her here with us."

"We might just be 'nurturing' Jeff another wife," Diana said, and although Helen and Jeff chuckled a little, Diana didn't. The laughter came to a sudden halt when Diana didn't join in.

"Di, you can't be serious..."

"Well, she fits the first criterion — intelligence," Diana said very quietly.

Helen, remembering her earlier conversation with Selina, suddenly had a smug look on her face.

"We all need to talk to her," Jeff said, a little louder than he meant to. "Most of my wives haven't even been formally introduced to her, yet. Why don't we call a family meeting? Then after we discuss the issues, we can bring Selina in and talk with her."

"We can't just bring her into our meeting like that," the Queen said. "She's a child. It would seem like we were grilling her for a job interview or something. It would scare her to death."

Helen grinned at her Queen. "I think you underestimate Selina. She has probably already figured out what we will do and what we will ask her. And ... if we're not careful, she could quite well interview us for our positions as surrogate parents while we think we're interviewing her."

"So you think she's true genius level?" Jeff asked. "Smarter than Arlene and Ann, maybe?"

Helen hesitated, carefully phrasing her response, "It's too soon to tell with any precision. I haven't had a chance to test her in-depth, if she will even let me. Her parents know she is smart, but they apparently have no real idea just how smart she is. Oh, she would certainly take my tests, but the question is: would she do her best? For some reason, she doesn't want to be called a genius, or have her parents or siblings think she is that smart."

"Do you think she is really that smart?" Jeff asked Helen.

Helen put her drink back on its coaster, then looked up at her Prime. "I picked a history textbook at random, turned to chapter ten, handed the book to her and told her to read the chapter and prepare for a quiz. I started out of the room to go to the bathroom, and she handed the text back to me. Elapsed time, maybe forty-five seconds."

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispered.

"Yes," Helen agreed. "I took the book and asked her nine questions from the chapter. She answered practically before I got the questions out of my mouth. Then for the tenth question, I asked her to sum up the chapter for me, and she did a superb job."

"You can do things like that, Helen. I've seen you."

"Yes, I can," Helen sighed, "but it still seems scary when I see someone else do it. I would bet she's on a par with me — maybe even more than a par."

"Then we can't let her go," Jeff said as he looked at his two wives. It's not just education. Think what she could be with Little One to help her along. We all know that our minds are sharper now than they were a few months ago. Think what that could mean if we had started with Little One at the age of six. Think what it could mean to Selina."

They sat silently for a while. Jeff got up to get a drink out of the refrigerator, then walked back toward the door. "Let's get it done," he simply said as they got up to follow him.

-------

The whole family, including the new girls and Kayla, were seated at the big table in the kitchen. The meeting had been going on for thirty minutes — the longest family meeting by twenty minutes they had ever had. "So how long do we have before we have to make up our minds?" Joyce asked.

"Her parents left here saying they were going skiing for a couple days," Diana said.

"Unless they really like the skiing at Winter Park or ... they find someone to 'play' with, as Selina puts it," Helen added.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Caitlin said.

"Yep," Helen replied with a chuckle. "Selina says that her parents are very discreet with it and very secretive. They have never done it at home, to Selina's knowledge. She doesn't think her brother and sister even know about it, and if it were not for her excellent hearing, she would not have found out, either."

"Well, we can't hold that against them. That's their personal business, and it appears that they've been basically good parents, just not particularly loving ones. Possibly their loss, and our gain," Jeff offered. "Too bad we don't have a week to get to know Selina, though."

"So how about this?" Arlene said. "Suppose we decide to let her attend our school, live here with us, and at some point, Momma gets a guilty conscience and decides to come get her daughter — after we've all fallen in love with Selina? And you know we will. As smart as she is, unless she's a little bitch, she'll have us all eating out of her hands in no time. Then we'll all be heartbroken — including Selina, probably, when Momma takes her home. It's a big risk to take." She paused for a second, then a bit sheepishly, "Every time I've seen her I've wanted to hug her."

There was quiet at the table and they all realized that Arlene had a very valid point.

"Helen?" Jeff said. "You're the genius around here..." Though true, it was meant to be just a little joke to break the tension, but everyone looked at Helen expectantly. Helen, however, was suddenly looking at Jennie and Melissa.

"What?" they both said, looking at each other, then back at Helen.

"You had a similar problem with those two," Helen said as she nodded at the two young women, "but you solved that problem, Jeff. Maybe we can do something similar with Selina."

-------

Everyone was prepared for the interview and wanted to ask questions, but they also didn't want to stress or intimidate the six-year-old. Finally, Helen was asked to call Selina.

"Albright's suite. This is Selina."

Helen couldn't suppress a smile.

"Would you, please, come to our family meeting in the kitchen?"

"Certainly. I'll be right down."

"We need to have a drink ready for her," Jeff said, nervously. "All of us have something in front of us."

"Juice," Laura suggested.

"What kind?" Arlene asked.

"Coffee," Helen said.

Everybody looked at her. "Just a half cup, then fill the cup with cream and four packs of Splenda."

Arlene and Ann dashed around getting the cup and coffee ready. Everyone moved down a chair on the right side of the table so Selina could sit near Jeff who was at the head of the table where he always sat. Arlene had the cushion ready in the chair. There was a faint double-knock on the kitchen door before it opened and the small girl walked in.

Near the table, stopping momentarily, Selina surveyed the family. Arlene stood by Selina's chair ready to help her onto the cushion. Selina smiled at Arlene, then slowly cast her eyes around the table for a brief eye contact with each person there, save Jeff. Then with a sigh, she climbed into Jeff's lap and snuggled to him. His arms surrounded her. "Welcome home," he said, simply.

No one even thought about voting.

-------

"Mom, we need to talk," Selina said when her mother answered her cell.

"Well, Darling, we've just sat down for a drink with some old friends..."

"I have found a school that is acceptable to me, and I think it would be satisfactory to you and Dad, also. I would appreciate it if the two of you would return to Matthews' Mountain for a conference."

"Darling, we really..."

"Mother, you will be able to return to your friends in a couple of hours, with ... the problem of my schooling resolved. Now, humor me, please, and the two of you come as soon as possible. If the people you are with are true friends, they won't mind, and I think you will find the delay well worth the slight inconvenience."

Away from the phone, but with Selina still able to hear: "Phil, Selina says she has found a school that she likes and insists we return to Matthews' Mountain immediately to discuss it."

"Now?" Selina heard from her dad.

"She is insistent."

"That's not like her. I hope nothing is wrong."

"Tell him that everything is perfect. Nothing is wrong, but we need to talk immediately," Selina told her mother.

"We'll be there shortly," Dessie replied.

"Bye, Mom. I love you." Selina then tapped the phone mike with one of her small nails, producing a faint click.

Dessie Albright, thinking that Selina had hung up, took the phone from her ear and absently began to close it as Selina continued to listen. "Our daughter just said she loves me." There was astonishment in Dessie's voice.

The cell closed and ended the call. Selina returned the portable to its charger, smiled and thought, Step one successful.

-------

"Jeff, we need to talk," Wainwright said as he hurried to catch up to the Prime just as he turned into the living room.

Jeff motioned toward a chair. "Sure, what's up?"

Seated, the two men looked at each other. "I might be overstepping my bounds here..."

"Oh, come on, Frank. It can't be that bad," Jeff chuckled.

"Margaret and Diana have been talking."

"Uh oh," Jeff kidded.

Frank smiled, hesitated, then continued. "Margaret tells me that Selina has petitioned to become a student here?"

"Yep. Helen is going to talk to Selina's parents. Supposedly, they're on the way back."

"Let me talk to them first, Jeff. I've done business with Phillip for years. I've been around Dessie a lot less, but still, I know her."

Jeff stared at his Alpha for a moment; their eyes locked and a subtle message passed between the two.

"I think I can help this along, Jeff, if I can talk to them first."

"Meet them at the back door. You can use my office. I'll go open it."

"No need. I still have my master key card."

-------

Phillip Albright slowed the Escalade in the driveway as he neared the turnoff to the front of the retreat. "No, Phil, go on around to the back."

"That seems to be their private entrance..."

"They sent us out that way to pick up this vehicle."

"Okay," he said, continuing on and climbing around to the back lot. "I'm still wondering about this. It isn't like Selina to insist that we do something immediately when she knew we were with friends."

"She's been acting odd ever since we've been here. She was everywhere last night, so much so that I was worried our hosts would say something, but I finally decided that they didn't mind. I got up early to go to the bathroom this morning and I looked in on her. She was already up and out of the suite."

"Well, she never really bothers anything or anyone," Phillip said as he parked, then turned to his wife for a moment, letting the engine idle. "She's just so curious that it scares me. It's not natural to be that curious. And ... she can be standing right next to someone and they apparently don't even notice she's there."

Dessie sat quietly for a moment, then continued with, "Honey, I ... I guess I'm ashamed to say this, but since you said that, I'll go ahead. I'm becoming almost afraid of Selina. We had those tests given to her, and she tested out to be a little above normal, but remember what Doctor Kendrick said. He thinks she is much smarter than the tests show. Phil, what if she's so smart that she's faking the tests? Could she be? And with all the other..."

"Hell, we've had this discussion before. How should I know? If we hadn't hired that new accountant, we would never have noticed all those charges spread out among our charge cards. We had become complacent, and after you bitched at the other accountant that time for asking you about some of your charges, I guess he just paid everything without question. The new guy didn't know you would get pissed when he bothered you with questions, and consequently, we found out what Selina was doing.

"According to the charges, it's been going on for a couple years. Books. Many, many books, and other things — fuck, even lock picks, for crying out loud. Then we find literally stacks of books in the corner of the basement we never ventured into until we saw the charges and started looking. The servants are the only ones who go down there. Well, that's what I thought, anyway. I never pay attention to deliveries. The delivery people use the same door that the servants use. Then I found out that she has been donating books to the library — lots of books. The serving staff has been taking boxes of books to the library thinking you and I were the ones donating them. Books, textbooks, trade magazines, technical journals. Surely she can't be reading all that stuff. No damn wonder her first grade teacher wants to talk to us. Then we find all this out a couple days before we have to come to the wedding."

Dessie sighed. "I know, Phil. You're just repeating yourself. We've gone over and over this, but what worries me even more is she hears everything. And ... I'm beginning to wonder if we really know how well she can hear. If she's hiding that, too..."

Phillip had reached to turn off the engine, but stopped. "What do you mean? We know she hears phenomenally well..."

"Yes, but we also know she is smart. But through an almost ... fluke, we're beginning to realize that she is a lot smarter than we thought — and has been hiding it from us. What if she has been hiding how well she can hear, too? Think about it, Phil. What has she heard?"

Phillip slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "I conduct a profitable business with several people who are far too strait-laced to understand. If word ever got out..."

"Oh, crap, Phil. Our daughter knows. Now that I think about it, I just know she does. If she's smart enough to read all those books, or even understand a part of them, and with her curiosity ... Then suddenly she has found a school. She wants away from us as much as we want her in a boarding school."

"We've got to talk to her..."

Dessie looked incredulously at her husband. "'Talk to her?' She's six. What are we going to say? Darling, please don't tell anyone that your mom and dad are swingers? It might ruin your father's business. What are we going to say to her?" Dessie repeated, her voice rising, a distinct tremble in it that forecast tears on the horizon.

Phil stared at his wife. "Well you started it. When I walked into that bedroom and caught you fucking that big-dicked son-of-a-bitch..."

"Yeah," Dessie snarled back at him, "but it didn't take you long to be sucking on Margie's tits, now did it? And it took you only a couple minutes more to have her bent over the bed right beside her husband while he was fucking me. So don't suddenly get all pious on me."

"I should have divorced your ass instead of letting Margie seduce me..."

"Oh, fuck you. We've covered this subject numerous times. I surely didn't sign a prenuptial before we married, and you know I'll walk away with a major portion of your fortune if you divorce me. And besides, the only thing that is really bothering you is that he has a bigger dick than you. I told you over and over that it doesn't make any difference, and there are other men who get me off better, anyway — and you're one of them. Besides, our sex life couldn't be any better. A little jealousy gets your dick hard, and we both know it."

"Alright. Alright. We'll discuss that later. Right now we need to talk to our daughter and see why she has suddenly decided that she has found a school she'll accept."

Dessie reached over and palmed her hand gently over her husband's groin. "We'll get this settled and get back to the ski lodge. Once your dick is up that blond, you won't care what's in my pussy."

Phillip grabbed her face and roughly kissed her. "Let's go."



-------

Chapter 95

Jeff caught up with Diana. "I talked with the General. Part of my team went back to the base after the other team that we're using for security got here, as you know. Those who went back to the base have been delayed, but will be coming back to escort the weapon emplacement deliveries, and for additional security during installation. We need to put off the time you were planning to have them for a meal. It was tonight, wasn't it?"

"No problem. It might even work out better that way with Selina's parents coming back to talk to us this afternoon."

-------

Frank had been watching from the mudroom. As the couple took the few steps to the stoop, he opened the back door for them.

"Hi Dessie; Phillip. I asked Jeff if I could speak with you before you talked to Selina."

Phillip suddenly looked concerned. "What's wrong, Frank? Is Selina..."

"Selina is fine, and there's nothing wrong at all. Please, just hold your curiosity until we can sit down and talk for a minute." Turning, Wainwright ushered them in. "Come on, we can use Jeff's office. It's near the Matthews' suite," he said, as they all started down the hall with the Alpha leading the way.

Shortly, they walked into the office and Frank motioned to the couch. Instead of sitting behind the desk, he moved a seat near the husband and wife so they would all be comfortable while they talked.

"This is nice," Dessie said as she looked around at the beautiful desk and the plush furniture in the big office.

Wainwright chuckled. "It used to be my office until Jeff became the owner of the property. He has another smaller, more functional office downstairs in his lab. My office is now on the other end of the retreat."

"You have an office here..." Dessie started.

"Yeah, and I do more of my work here at the retreat than I used to. Even though Jeff now owns this place, it is also our home, too. I've cut back on my work hours in the Saint Louis office, and turned some of my projects over to Tingle. He's a good man."

"So you and Mr. Matthews..."

"Let's just say that he claims Margaret and me as part of his family. That's how close the relationship is. And ... that brings me to the reason I wanted to talk with you two. But first, I brought along something I would like you to read before I go into why I dragged you in here."

Frank handed them Helen's résumé. "How about reading through this, please. I want you to know some of Helen's accomplishments before we talk about the school."

When Frank handed Phillip the binder, the couple looked at him for a second before Phillip opened it and held it so they both could read.

Frank leaned back and crossed his legs. "Take your time. I want you to read every word carefully, and keep in mind that it is nowhere near a complete list of her accomplishments."

When the couple had finished, Frank leaned forward to take the binder. Phillip and his wife looked at each other, then Dessie turned to Frank, "Unless there's a character flaw, this woman..."

"There is no character flaw. On the contrary, she is one of the nicest people you will ever meet, and the Matthews are darned lucky to have her for their teacher."

"But, Frank, why are you talking to us about this teacher? We could have learned this from her..."

Frank chuckled. "It's quite simple, really. I'm here to assure you that your daughter will be in the absolute best school she could ever be in, plus she will be with a loving family, and she will be taught by a teacher who not only loves children, but who is also immensely qualified. The Matthews and I are closer than brothers and sisters could ever be. And I mean that literally. I will not only vouch for Helen, the teacher, but also for the Matthews family and everyone else here at the retreat. You know I'm a man of my word, and I give you that word now."

Phillip looked at Frank for a moment, then, "You have always been fair with me; sometimes more than that. I never worry that you will try to stiff me on a contract. You've given me your word before, and you have never gone back on it." After a moment's hesitation, he continued with, "We also know that you have, at least some respect for us, or we would not have been invited to your wedding. There were probably several hundred more people who would have come if they had been invited, so that again, makes us feel special."

"So the school our daughter has found is here? I mean to say, on these actual premises?" Dessie said.

Frank didn't answer, but just nodded.

"Odd. Selina has seemed to be enthralled with this building and the people here practically since we walked in the door. How many students does this ... Boswell woman have in her school?"

"I'd rather Helen answer any questions. I didn't get you two in here to try to usurp her authority."

"Frank, our daughter is very smart..." Phillip started.

"And, what would you call Helen?" Wainwright grinned. "You've read her résumé. The woman is a genius. Not just smart — a true genius. Whatever your daughter needs will be recognized and provided for. And the Matthews have already welcomed her with ... open arms, I think the phrase is," Frank finished as he remembered Selina sitting, snuggled in Jeff's arms while they had talked.

"Frank, Selina is almost..." Dessie wound down, unable to find the word she wanted.

"More than you know how to handle," Wainwright suggested.

"We're not bad parents," Dessie said, wondering if that was a true statement. "We've given her everything she's asked for; provided nannies..."

Wainwright stood. "I'm sure you will be able to visit whenever you wish. She won't need a nanny here, for she will have a whole family, Margaret and I included. I promise she will be safe and properly cared for. Now, I need to get out of the way and let you talk to Helen."

-------

Jeff's younger wives had been busy, led by Arlene, of course. Soon after Helen had started their school in the temporary classroom, Dave had put in a door to the next conference room, then added a wall, shelving, etc. for Helen to have a nice office, plus a project room for her students. Arlene and the younger wives had found a box containing Helen's diplomas, and had hung some of them on the walls of her office. A couple weeks later, Helen had taken them down from her "brag wall" as the girls called it, and returned them to the box in a closet.

Doctor Boswell met Dessie and Phillip Albright in the hallway near the temporary classroom. After they shook hands and were being ushered into the classroom, Dessie said, "Mrs. Matthews introduced all of you after the wedding, and she said you were their teacher, but there were so many introductions that I really didn't focus on what you did. I guess I must have thought that you taught in the local school system."

They stopped as Helen answered, "Well, I used to, but I'm retired."

"But..." Dessie started.

"I've been blessed with a younger-looking face," Helen quickly interrupted. "I'm older than I seem. And I took some of my degrees a little early, and consequently started teaching quite young."

"Frank, uh ... shared your résumé with us, and..."

"He's like a brother to me," Helen said. "I was considering a career change upon retirement from instruction, thus the résumé. I didn't really intend showing you all that."

As they were talking, they had walked through the classroom into Helen's office. As they entered, Helen instantly saw that her "brag wall" was back up. Phillip and Dessie spotted it immediately and veered over to examine the large array of plaques.

"My..." Helen had almost said sister-wives, but had changed it at the last instant to, "students are obviously trying to help me. I apologize. Those are supposed to be in a box in the closet. Let's go sit in the classroom; it's just as comfortable in there without my 'brag' wall' overshadowing our conversation."

But Dessie and Phillip weren't listening, for they were riveted on the diplomas and certificates on the wall. Helen started to protest, but remembered what Selina had told her about her parents needing a school for her that they could brag about to friends.

-------

The three were back in the classroom. "So this is your 'temporary' classroom?" Dessie asked as she leaned back in the comfortable chair. "Frankly, it's better than the schools we've visited."

"This is nice," Helen agreed, "but our new classrooms will be bigger, there will be private areas to study, and we will have a lab attached, as well as a bigger project room."

"And you have seven full-time students?"

"Yes, and Diana and Laura are taking college courses on-line that I also supervise. Laura already has a BS, but is now beginning her study of electrical engineering. Arlene and Ann have met all high school graduation requirements and commenced college courses, but requested we delay their certification until that of Jennie and Melissa so all four may join in a graduation ceremony."

Helen, limited by what she wanted to tell outsiders, simply said, "I have been blessed with students that most educators only get to dream about. I have no discipline problems — none. I don't have to encourage study; I only have to provide, and more often than not, simply facilitate and guide. To use an overused term in education, I have gifted students. I have walked into this classroom after hours many times to find my girls enthusiastically working on projects or assignments."

The meeting went on for a while, then Phillip said, "I guess we should discuss cost and things of that nature. We wish to travel. Any school would have to..."

Helen, again remembering what Selina had said about her parents, said, "We are expensive. You might even say, extremely expensive, but we provide everything for our students — everything."

"Children frequently become ill with various viruses, and so forth. It's part of growing up," Dessie said.

"You would have to sign releases, of course," Helen said. "But unless your daughter's health should become critical, you need not be bothered. We will provide the best of medical care that money can buy. You will be expected to provide insurance for her, obviously, but should anything come up, we will take care of the matter completely. We will notify you in accordance with your written wishes, however."

"Our daughter has been talking to you," Dessie said.

"She said that the two of you wish to travel and perhaps ski on various mountains around the world, and ... would not want to be called home every time she 'gets the sniffles.' Thus my comments about her health care," Helen said.

"Selina has made us sound like..."

"You are mistaken. Your daughter loves you. She is an extremely gifted child and needs to be in this school. I promise you that everything will be done for her that will instill a will to learn, and that learning experience will be a guided one. I will treat her as my daughter. She will be safe, and you may visit any time you wish. Mr. Matthews asked me to assure you that you would be welcome here any time. And I think you will agree that we provide well for our guests," she said with a smile.

Phillip cleared his throat and said, "We have just discovered that Selina has been purchasing textbooks, technical journals and the like — many of them. We have had her tested, but the tests only showed her to be a little above average ... But if she's reading all this material, or even understands a small portion of it, then she must be far, far more intelligent than the tests suggested. Uh ... Doctor Boswell, it's not that we don't love our daughter. We've had plans — dreams — for years about what we were going to do when our kids were big enough to be away from us for a time. Perhaps we have let those plans escalate into becoming fantasies that we long for, but Selina is big enough to be in a boarding school for a couple of years while we indulge our dreams. We certainly don't want to abandon our daughter, but we do wish to be able to be gone for a few months at a time without having to worry about her. But ... she has adamantly refused the schools we have suggested she consider."

Phillip wound down at the look on Helen's face. Helen's impression of the parents from Selina's point of view had guided the beginning of the conversation, but now Helen realized they had just discovered their daughters' deception and were thinking the matter through. Helen wouldn't reveal anything Selina had confided, but she also had to reassure Selina's parents that her real talents would be developed. Selina had not specifically asked that her parents not be told how smart she was, but then again, she had kept it from them. The implication was obvious. Helen would keep Selina's secret, of course. "I can assure you that she will be allowed to develop in accordance with her abilities. She will be guided, and she will also be facilitated, not held back to some preconceived level of intelligence."

Phillip sighed. "She has bought quite a few expensive text books. If this is a real need for her, we'll be glad to leave a credit card for that particular use. But we would expect that you would supervise her purchases."

Dessie chuckled. "Phillip, you expect more of the school than we managed ourselves. She's been buying anything she damn well pleased."

Helen just sat and looked at them, seeming to ignore their last comments. "We have a requirement here. I won't accept a student, then have her pulled from the school at the whim of her parents. That restriction is certainly subject to conditions, of course. You will be free to inspect the school and talk to your daughter, visit her here anytime, and have her visit you at home on holidays and for a couple of weeks in the summer. She does not however, have to leave the school during any of those holidays; rather, she is welcome here and will be treated as family should you or she decide that she isn't going home for the holiday. The school is year-round, except for that two-week vacation in the summer, spring break, Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc.

"Bear in mind that we are not restricted to any particular schedule or locale. There will be extensive field trips, some of which will be social, and I might call on you for recommendations concerning some of those. Mr. Wainwright has some ideas there, while he, Colonel Matthews and myself have extensive contacts in the defense and information technology industries which provide field trip opportunities not available to other private schools.

"Mr. Matthews has various local projects going on as well which offer our students hands-on business experience. One is a large farm/ranch. The students keep a set of duplicate books for the farm and for other projects. They are in frequent contact with the accountant, sit in on family and business meetings, and sometimes do a lot more than just sit in.

"What I am most excited about, though, is the unique information technology opportunity created by Laura Kinsley who was an IT manager for a large company as well as being a supremely gifted programmer. To say that our computer system here is cutting-edge would be to insult her, and our system. It is far beyond that. Two of the girls, Ann, Laura's daughter, and Arlene, Jeff and Diana's daughter, are also assisting in constructing an artificial intelligence program that might very well revolutionize the field — to use a trite phrase that still falls far short of an accurate description.

"Laura has led programming teams in the past and is lead designer here. Selina might be present at the creation of another major information technology company. That kind of encouragement and experience for such a highly intelligent young girl cannot be bought, and it's available to her from the sheer luck of your attending the Wainwrights' wedding."

Helen had neglected to say that she was also applying her genius to the endeavor.

"If you allow Selina to become part of us, she will be family — not be treated as family — she will be family. Arlene recognized this immediately and brought it up in our family meeting when we were discussing Selina attending our school. Put simply, we risk a lot. We will fall in love with Selina, and already have fallen for her to some extent. She is a beautiful, intelligent little girl. We won't risk Selina suddenly being withdrawn from our school because of a whim of her parents, for that would break our hearts. We would expect a contract to be signed that would reflect that — and we would expect two year's tuition and fees to be paid up front, and they are nonrefundable."

The meeting continued, the couple completely unaware that they were being guided by a genius. Helen inwardly smiled as she thought about the carrot and the stick. Though as ancient as time, the concept still worked very well. Dessie and Phillip would enroll their daughter in Helen's school, and would willingly give over complete authority of the child for the next two years. If Jeff could get it done for Jennie and Melissa, then they should be able to get it done for Selina as well. After the two years, the next step would be easy.

A little later, Dessie looked at her husband. "We need to call Phil Junior and let him know we're going to be delayed, also Dane and Lacey."

Helen smiled at the couple. "Why don't you plan on eating with us at our family table tonight? That way you can get to know us better."

"You keep referring to family. Are you talking about your students?"

"We call it the Matthews clan," Helen said with a smile. "As I mentioned, when Selina joins our school, she will become part of our extended family. We don't board students; have them live in a room and eat in the dining hall — they become family. They eat with us; travel with us; live with us." Helen stopped to smile at them again, "Stay for 'supper' as Jeff calls it. You might well be amazed."

-------

At the supper table, Selina sat next to her mother, the persona of a smart six-year-old firmly in place. Jeff's wives, and Dave's wives continued to openly wear their wedding rings. Madison and his wives were in Saint Louis. The Albrights had noticed the rings at the reception, and with the way the women divided into groups around their men, the relationships became even more obvious at the supper table. To a lot of people, multiple wives would have been a deal breaker, but Jeff, Diana and the others had agreed to present the family as it was. If the Albrights would not accept the situation, now was the time to find out. Sooner or later, if the Matthews lied, someone would slip and the lie would out, plus the women had already openly worn their rings last night when all the guests were present.

Phillip and Dessie had discussed what they had seen at the reception. During their conference with Doctor Boswell, she had made no effort to conceal her wedding band. As the meal ended, Caitlin walked by Jeff and leaned down for a brief kiss on his mouth. Diana, with a stack of dishes in her hands, was next as she briefly stopped and kissed her husband hard on the mouth, then as Doctor Boswell walked by, she did the same. The message was plain.

Dessie casually looked around her. Not only were Mathews' wives helping to clear the table, but so was Margaret. Dessie had been raised in a rich family, then married into another richer one. There were always servants — well-paid servants to cook and clean. But even though Dessie and Phillip were rich, Dessie knew she had to be practically a pauper compared to Frank and Margaret. Yet Margaret was teasing and laughing as she cleared the table and put away the leftover food. The Matthews had pretended to be servants before the wedding, and Dessie could just imagine how some of the people treated them while they were making beds and cleaning up. Dessie usually just ignored servants, and she fervently hoped she hadn't said something snide to any of the Matthews. She wasn't mean to their staff at home, and indeed, paid them well. She didn't know how rich the Matthews were, but this enormous building belonged to them as part of a deal for Matthews' invention. She had heard Frank mention that, so she suspected that the Matthews were at least moderately rich. Dessie came to her feet. She hadn't washed a dish in years, but if Margaret was expected to do it, then Dessie would too. She just hoped her husband wouldn't tease her in front of everyone. Idly, she wondered whether Selina would be expected to help in the kitchen if they allowed her to remain here.

As if on cue, Selina moved a step stool in front of a kitchen counter so that she could reach the hanging rack for the coffee cups. After she put them out for the men, Arlene brought a pot and poured. Although Dessie was a bit startled to see Selina take part, Dessie knew that Selina got along fabulously with their servants, and often helped them in small ways.

A smirk passed between the women as they somehow realized that this was something that Dessie didn't do much of. "There are containers with lids in there," Diana said, pointing as Dessie picked up two bowls of green peas from the table. "Then the food goes in the second refrigerator."

Normally, Diana would object to a guest taking part in cleanup, only allowing them to do it when it seemed appropriate and the guest insisted. She deliberately didn't make a show of telling Dessie that she didn't need to help, rather, she gave instructions, subtly letting her know what being part of the Matthews family entailed. Yes, my rich friend,  Diana thought, your daughter will be expected to cook and clean just like the rest of us. Soon we'll tell Selina of our pact to not get trapped into acting like spoiled rich people. Then again, judging from the way she instantly started helping, telling her might not be necessary. I'll bet she already has a good idea why we do our own work.

Selina was fighting hard to keep from giggling as she watched her mother combining the two bowls of leftover peas, sealing the container and dutifully putting it into the refrigerator. At home, her mom expected the leftover food from a meal to either go to the servant's quarters, or be thrown away. Mom probably wouldn't know which button to push on the dishwasher, and I'm certain she has never even turned on a vacuum cleaner. But suddenly, Selina was proud of her mother. Giggling quietly despite herself, I would love to be that proverbial fly on the wall when Mom and Dad are by themselves after this. Dad is so going to kid her mercilessly about washing dishes.

ATLANTA GEORGIA

The ASAC stopped at the big door to the SICU. "Any problems?" he asked the two agents standing there.

One of the agents spoke up, "A guy from the hospital lab grumped a little the first time he came in and the metal detector went off," one of the agents said, "but he's been back several times since then and he just tosses his keys in the tray and goes on in without saying anything. Other than that, the hospital personnel were nice as they could be. Several of the visitors have asked what's going on, but we haven't had any real problems out of anyone."

"Stay alert. There's still a lot we don't know. We're concerned that someone will attempt to finish what they've started."

One of the agents held the button down to silence the metal detector as Grigsby walked through. Grigsby pressed the button that sounded inside the unit door. The charge nurse opened the big door and the agents nodded to her that the ASAC could enter. If she didn't recognize hospital personnel, she would communicate that to the agents. There was generally very little traffic in the ICU, and with the agents guarding the doors, there was even less than normal.

The surgical intensive care unit was one of three intensive care units in the hospital. There was also a cardiac intensive care unit, CICU, and a medical intensive care unit, MICU, plus a step-down unit for patients who no longer needed intensive care, but still needed more care than a patient could reasonably be expected to receive on a regular medical or surgery floor.

The SICU consisted of twenty rooms built along the outside of a rectangle with the front of each room facing inward to a large open area. There was a nursing station on either end of the open area inside the rectangle, and a break area with a table, refrigerator, microwave and coffee pots between the two nursing stations, as well as a storage area for medical supplies. Each nursing station contained a PYXIS (a machine that dispensed medications). The machine would only respond to the bio-identity for the nurses assigned to that unit. (Fingerprint recognition.) In addition to the monitors in the patient's room, there was also a monitor at the nursing station for each patient, showing his/her vital signs. The front wall and door of each patient's room was made of glass. There were drapes that could be pulled should privacy be required. Other than the three times per day that visitors were allowed into the unit, only certain hospital personnel were allowed to be there. Those visiting times were for only ten minutes each. The big outer door to the unit remained locked, but designated personnel could "badge in" with their ID badges.

-------

Art Hanes drifted in the world of his mind as his body fought to stay alive. The doctors had left the repair of the bullet-shattered collarbone and the hip until their patient was stronger. The surgeon had elected to do only what was necessary to stop the bleeding in the kidney, but because of the trauma to his system and the blood loss, several of his systems were on the verge of shutting down. His kidneys were producing very little urine; his liver functions were compromised, but ... he was young and in excellent health — well, was in excellent health before those bullets tore through his body. The ventilator breathed for him, and in a deep coma, his mind wandered through strange, disjointed dreams, though a logical thought occasionally drifted past. From time to time, he would almost surface from the coma and he would hear things, or think he did.

Hanes' heart rate was fast, but not dangerously so, and his blood pressure was still low. Sandra had seen patients come back from pressures that were lower, but she watched his blood pressure and heart rate very closely, indeed. Caught up for the moment, she sat in the chair on the right side of the bed. The agent who was sitting on the other side of the bed had told her to just call him Tom. Other than that, he had said little. If she needed to work on that side, he quickly got up and out of the way. The room was only wide enough for the equipment and the bed, with little more than a chair's width plus a little walking room along each side.

According to the SICU rules, two family members could visit at 9:00 A.M., 2:00 P.M. and 8:00 P.M., each visit limited to ten minutes. The visits were dependent upon what was being done to the patient at the time. A man had talked with the charge nurse last night, identifying himself as the ASAC from the Atlanta office of the FBI. He had left signed releases with her to attach to the chart which would allow the nurses and hospital personnel to discuss with the SAC and ASAC what was going on with the agent, without violating HIPPA rules. (Privacy laws.)

(SAC: Special Agent in Charge. ASAC: Assistant Special Agent in Charge)

It had taken Sandra a moment to unravel the acronyms. Why don't they just call themselves the manager and assistant manager, or chief and assistant chief? she thought as she busied herself with her patient.

It was a little after seven P.M. and the ASAC was back. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark bags under them, yet his voice was pleasant with a hint of firmness beneath. He stepped into the room. "Why don't you go and take a break, Tom? Be back in thirty minutes. Okay?"

When the agent had left, the ASAC introduced himself.

"Excuse me for a moment, please," Sandra said, "I have to titrate his dopamine to control his blood pressure." A few minutes later, she sat on the chair on the right side of the bed, absently reaching out and putting her hand on Hanes' hand.

"I need to know what's going on," the ASAC said, sitting in the other chair. "What's that?" he asked pointing to a tube taped to Hanes' neck. Grigsby stopped. "That didn't come out very well. I've been up all day yesterday, last night, and today. I stopped by my house, took a shower, shaved and got about an hour's sleep. But I really do need to know something about agent Hanes. We're being questioned by everyone all the way up to the director himself. Can you tell me enough so that I can talk to them intelligently? Like for instance, what is that?" he said pointing to the right side of Hanes' neck.

Sandra looked at him for a second, then, "That's the line for the CRRT. All this over here," she said pointing, "is part of it." At a frown from the ASAC, she smiled and said. "CRRT stands for Continuous Renal Replacement Therapy. The line goes in his right jugular and the machine mimics the action of the kidney. Mr. Hanes' kidneys have been compromised by the blood loss, the shock to his system and the bullet, so the machine acts as an artificial kidney for a while to give his kidneys a better chance of recovery. See those big bags hanging there, and these drains coming from his back?" she said pointing again. "I have to balance his outputs from kidneys and the drains put in during surgery with inputs from IV fluids and drips."

"And that?" the ASAC said, pointing to another line on the left side of Hanes' neck.

"That's what we call a central line. It is going into the left internal jugular and on into Mr. Hanes' heart. We draw blood from the central line for tests, take central venous pressures, and administer medications such as the strong antibiotic he's receiving now. In his weakened condition, infection would be devastating to him, and it's something that we're trying very, very hard to prevent."

"And that tube in his mouth and that machine it's hooked to is breathing for him?"

"Right."

"And that line going into his arm?"

"That is an art line — arterial blood line. It goes into the radial artery for continuous blood pressure measurement."

The questions went on for a while with Sandra taking an occasional time out to check and adjust some of the equipment. Most of the time when she sat back down, she would put her hand back on Hanes'. Several times, she had leaned over and talked quietly into his ear while she was standing near the head of the bed.

As she leaned over the third time to say something, Grigsby leaned closer to the bed and did his best to listen. "You're doing fine. The doctor fixed your kidney. That tube in your throat is helping you breathe. Don't fight the machine. Just let it breathe for you. You'll be better in a few days. I'm proud of you. You just rest now and let me take care of you. You'll be up and around in a few days. Sleep now and get well."

Grigsby suddenly had a lump in his throat. He stood, and when she finished, he motioned her to come to the doorway of the little room. When she did, with a question on her face, he said quietly, "Can he hear you?"

Sandra shook her head. "Maybe, but I have had more than one unconscious patient who after awakening told me that he heard me talking to him, and repeated some of the things I had said to him. We are taught that hearing is the last sense to go, so we always keep that in mind. I do know that sometimes an unconscious person will almost awaken, and sometimes they can hear me then. Also, I believe the subconscious mind never sleeps. Our charge nurse talks to her unconscious patients, and I spent six weeks with her on orientation when I first came to work here. She's the best nurse I've ever seen; if she believes it, then I do.

"One of the surgeons told me that he had a patient that claimed he knew everything that was going on while he was supposedly out during an operation. The surgeon said the patient told him some of the jokes they were telling as they operated. I do everything I can for my patients. Talking to the unconscious ones may help. Who knows? It doesn't hurt, and I think I somehow give them a little comfort by holding their hands."

They stood looking at Hanes for a moment, then, "The day shift nurse washed his hair. It had blood in it. His beard was wrecked from having to shave part of it for the ventilator. I would shave the rest of it, but he can't give me permission, so I'm going to just trim it for him."

"I didn't know the nurses washed hair and shaved people," Grigsby said.

"All the nurses in here are RNs. We don't have nursing aids or LPNs in this unit, so we have to do everything the patient needs done. Besides," she grinned, "I wipe their butts for them; shaving doesn't bother me a bit."

They stood for a moment just looking at Hanes, then very quietly so that Hanes, if by some miracle could hear, Grigsby asked, "Is he going to live?"

Sandra snapped her head around to stare at the ASAC, then startling Grigsby with the intensity, "Absodamnlutely," she hissed. Then with a very quiet, but nonetheless intense whisper, "I'm not going to let him die. And don't you dare mention anything about death around my patient, just in case he might be able to hear, and you tell your buddies the same thing. Now scat. Go get some sleep before you wind up in here as a patient. I've got work to do."



-------

Chapter 96

Phillip and Dessie had just started down the driveway in the Escalade. Neither had yet spoken about what had been going on, then, "Well?" Dessie said.

Phillip sighed.

"That's not much of an answer," his wife returned, then as their lights shot out into the darkness over the abyss as they rounded a switchback, she hissed in a breath and cringed. "I had to see that ... that ... thing when we left to go to Winter Park, then when we came back. Now, with the darkness, at least I don't have to look down into that ... place again, but my imagination might be worse," she finished with a shudder.

Phillip chuckled. "I guess I was thinking about our daughter before. I forgot about your fear of heights."

Security came to attention as they drove past.

On the county road, Phillip finally said, "Our daughter seems intrigued with the Matthews, and Wainwright swears by them. Still..."

"We wanted a place that would take full responsibility for her."

"Yeah, but they want full legal control of her. We can't back out of the deal for two years"

"We can if Selina wants out," Dessie interrupted, "or there's any type of abuse ... It's just what we wanted, but ... it seems a little ... cold on our part."

"That's a ridiculous amount of money they'll be charging for tuition — and it's not refundable, but they will also be taking full responsibility for her. We can go wherever we please; stay as long as we wish. And we can visit her anytime. Let's think about it tonight; make our decision in the morning."

They were quiet for a time, then Dessie looked over at her husband. "How smart do you think she really is?"

Phillip slowed for a hairpin curve, wary, since there had been patches of ice the snowplow had missed, then when they were past the curve, "She's fooled us for a good part of her life. Boswell knows Selina is smart, but Boswell didn't try to hide her knowledge from us. Selina has played us for fools. No, that's not right. She hasn't tried to insult us, just kept us from knowing how smart she really is. How could she do that? Why didn't we pick up on it? To think that she could do it is the scary part. Now, I'm pretty damn sure she's a genius. But we didn't have a fucking clue until that accountant wanted to know about all those charges. How in the hell could we be so stupid? Shit."

"You know what our answer will be," Dessie quietly said. "Why don't you call Turner and tell him to talk to their lawyer? Get the lawyers working on this together."

"It's Saturday night. No use..."

"As much as we pay him?" Dessie snarled. "Call him and get him started. Tell him what we tentatively agreed with the Matthews. Let's get it in writing. I want to start our travels."

"You still want to see Dane and Lacy tonight? When I checked with them on the phone, they said they would be waiting. We'll have to use their suite, though. Phil Junior said he was going out to eat with that other family and their son, but he said he would be back by nine."

Dessie reached over and rubbed his cock. Said cock began immediately to swell. "Feels like you want to see them, too, and I'll bet Dane can wring a lot of tension out of me, and Lacy can mellow you out, too."

Phillip chuckled as he concentrated on his driving.

-------

Diana and Jeff were standing in their bedroom. " ... We need to move her down to our floor," Diana told Jeff. "She's way up there by herself. Her mom and dad won't be back for a couple of days. Regardless of what they decide, Selina needs to be closer to us."

"Well ... they left her in the Wainwrights' charge, originally. But I agree; she shouldn't be on that floor by herself."

"I've talked to Margaret. She was going to put Selina in the suite next to hers, but she says it's okay to move Selina closer to us. She and Frank know that Selina will be in our school."

"So, go get her. I guess you can put her in the other half of the double suite the girls are in, now that Kayla has moved into our suite. That should work just fine."

Diana hugged her husband, pushing her breasts against his chest the way she knew he liked. "We all need to start watching what we're wearing when we're out of the bedroom. We have a young mind in the house with us now."

Jeff smiled down at his wife. "So, you're going to start laying down rules for her ... and us. Better think carefully before you do. She doesn't have much experience with life, but if she's a true genius like Helen thinks, rules that fit a child's character may well be an insult to her."

"I know," Diana sighed. "It's been so long since Arlene was that age, and she was ... with us from birth. Rules just came about naturally, and by the time she was any size at all, most children's rules just didn't seem to apply to her — or her friends. She and they were unusual children. Now they're your wives," she teased. "Their high intelligence doubtless swayed us when we thought about setting down rules, not to say anything about your influence as an Alpha. Until Arnie came along — and Jack — we didn't have any problems with Arlene. But Helen thinks that Selina is even smarter than Arlene. In a way, that kind of scares me.

"When Selina's mother and father were here, Selina acted like a six-year-old — a smart six-year-old who was trying to please her parents. The second they walked out the door, she changed; even her face changed. Intelligence just seems to literally leap from her eyes. She's a dichotomy. One sentence is a six-year-old's, then the next seems to come from an adult mind. She seems to want to be a child — play and explore, then there's the adult aspect that shocks me speechless with her ... stilted sentence structure, I guess you would call it — and her vocabulary. It's as though she ... doesn't know what to be."

Jeff kissed the top of Diana's head, then talked into her hair as he held her close. "She's probably used the child's persona so much that she just automatically goes back to it from time to time. I suspect a lot of that will take care of itself. With us, she can just be Selina. She'll find her place with us. With Arlene and my younger wives to interact with her, and the new girls, it won't be long. Stop worrying, and let her be what she needs to be. And ... I won't walk out in the hallway with nothing on but my under shorts. That please you?" he laughed.

"It's just that..."

"Hush, My Love," he said as he leaned down to press his lips to hers for a moment. "Go get your new daughter and bring her down here."

"Oh, Jeff. I'm already falling for her. If her parents decide..."

"Let them think about it for a while, and let things jell. We have the outline to an agreement, and they wanted this from the beginning. They were trying to find a boarding school. Remember, Selina says her parents will go for it. We scared them a little with wanting legal control of Selina for two years, and ... we know what will happen after Selina spends two years with us. Let's begin our relationship by trusting her. Now go get your daughter."

-------

Diana started to knock on the outer door of the Albright suite when the door opened and Selina almost walked into the Queen.

"Oops, sorry," Selina said.

Diana smiled at Selina. "I just came to get you. We want you to be closer to us. No use your being up here by yourself."

"That is fine with me, Mrs. Matthews, but I am not afraid of being alone."

"What's this?" Diana said, nodding her head to the partially-filled pillowcase Selina was carrying.

"Due to our scheduled short stay, I only brought two changes of clothing, in addition to the clothing I was wearing, of course. I intend to wash my things. I've already found the utility room on this floor."

"We would wash your clothes for you..." Diana began, but her voice faded away when Selina frowned.

"Arlene told me that you only had people to come in once per week to do some of the heavy cleaning. Otherwise, you and your..."

"Sister-wives," Diana supplied.

" ... sister-wives do everything else. She said it was because you did not want to act like so many rich people do. Our servants washed my clothes, but that does not mean that I'm unaware of the correct procedures. One of the ladies we employ taught me to wash clothing properly."

Diana, remembering what Jeff had said about Selina finding her place, said, "I'm sure you can, but why don't you use the washers and dryers on our floor. There's a suite open next to the one occupied by the new girls."

"New girls?"

Diana smiled. "We used to call Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa the girls. But we have three additional girls who have just come to live with us — Nat, Nicki, and Whitney — you talked to them at supper. There is a long story associated with them, but I'll let them tell you about it when they're ready. Anyway, sometimes we used the word 'girls' a bit interchangeably, I guess, occasionally even confusingly. This time I meant the double suite occupied by Nat, Nicki and Whitney. Kayla lived in the other side of the girls' suite until recently. She lives in our suite now. There is a nice single suite next to the girls' that I think you will like, and it will give you more privacy." Jeff and the girls, also,  she thought. "We talked about your being part of our family, if your mother and father decide to let you attend our school. No use family being so far away from us."

Selina stared up at Diana's face. "You really mean that about family, don't you?"

Diana couldn't keep the smile off her face. "When our Prime says someone is family, then they are. Shortly the ties will be unbreakable, so if you have any reservations about us at all, now is the time to voice them."

Selina mentally filed the "unbreakable" comment, but her mind was set to wondering.

"Doctor Boswell mentioned that Mr. Matthews was an Alpha, but she did not elaborate. I am curious to understand the full connotations of this Alpha designation. Now you say that Mr. Matthews is a Prime as well. From my brief conversation with Doctor Boswell, plus your comment here, as well as the fact that Mr. Matthews has several wives, I am forced to conclude that a Prime is ... an Alpha of Alphas. Am I correct?"

Diana stood looking down at the child that had just seemed to morph into a very intelligent adult. Almost laughing, the Queen reached down and hugged Selina to her. "As Jeff would say, 'Close enough for government work.' Yes, he is an Alpha of Alphas, and I'm his Queen. Life doesn't get any better than what I have, and now I've just been blessed with a beautiful new daughter. Why don't we pack up the rest of your stuff and get you moved down where we can all be closer to each other? We can put your clothes in a washer on the first floor, and tomorrow or the next day we'll go shopping to expand your wardrobe."

Selina turned to go back into the Albright's suite, Diana following. "I would love to shop for new clothing, but I also need to call home. I can have my substantial wardrobe sent here. I have several non-clothing items that I would like to have, also. Would that be permissible with you Mrs. Matthews?"

"Not Mrs. Matthews. I answer to Diana, and yes, certainly you can have your possessions sent here, if your parents concur."

"Addressing you by your given name seems ... disrespectful. I have always addressed adults by their surname, except for my parents, of course."

"Well, let's just stick with Diana for the time being. I promise to not be offended."

Selina smiled up at Diana. "My parents won't object to my moving my clothing and other items, but I will ask their permission. If I am to stay here, which I fully expect will happen, then I should transfer all my clothing. I am growing quite rapidly. The clothing that I leave at my former home won't fit, should I return there for Christmas. I fully expect my parents to be somewhere else in the world during Thanksgiving, though."

-------

It didn't take Selina and Diana long to put Selina's things in her suitcase — most of her clothing was in the pillowcase, anyway. Selina picked up her laptop and reached for the handle of her rolling suitcase, but Diana, already holding the pillowcase of clothes, beat her to the suitcase. "I am perfectly capable..." Selina started.

"And courtesy dictates that I help," Diana interrupted. Then meeting Selina's eyes, Diana continued, her voice changing, "Do you want, and I mean really want to stay with us and attend our school? It will entail becoming part of our family. And I mean that literally."

"You know I do," Selina answered very quietly.

"Now is the time to decide if you want to back out, Selina. This is no child's game; this is for real. Jeff welcomed you home. Right now, no matter how smart you are, you don't fully understand what he means. As I've said, even with that fabulous mind of yours, you don't yet fully comprehend what a Prime is. He will bond you to him, and we're ... part of him. The bond is unbreakable — there is no going back — ever. I can already feel the bond forming, and I'm falling in love with you. I'm a Prime's Queen, Selina. There will be a bond between us, too. Once those bonds form, we will fight to keep you with us. We will not willingly give you up. Should your parents, at some point in the future, manage to take you away from us, we will all hurt — badly, you included."

"You speak of this 'bond... '" Selena started.

"It can form in several ways, and we don't fully understand everything about it. It can be formed with sex, and other ways, but it can also form by close association with Jeff. When he holds you and is near you..." Frustrated, Diana stopped. "He will fall in love with you — we can all feel it already starting. Love has a lot to do with it, and maybe there is a further mental aspect to it too. We're new at this and none of us fully understand it. But Selina, it is real. If you want to back out, I'll call your parents right now."

With that statement and the thought of Selina leaving, Diana felt a tug of dread/sadness cross her heart. No matter what she had just told Selina, she remembered Jeff welcoming Selina home, and the emotions that she (Diana) felt when he said those words. She prayed Selina would not tell her to call Phillip and Dessie.

Selina stood silent for a moment, realizing just how serious Diana was, then, "I made my decision when I asked Doctor Boswell for admittance to her school. I wish to stay here, and I will continue the endeavor of convincing my parents, although, I think there is little doubt that they will approve my request. I wish, profoundly, to be part of your family."

Diana dropped the pillowcase of clothes, leaned down and hugged Selina tightly. There were tears rolling down the Queen's cheeks as she whispered, "Welcome home."

-------

As Jeff walked into the bedroom where his wives were waiting for him, he turned to Diana. "I guess I thought you would put Selina in the other side of the girls' suite."

"And suppose she's in the sitting area when you go in to tell the girls 'goodnight, '" Diana teased.

"You can't hear anything when the door to the bedroom is closed."

"And what if Selina has her ear pressed to that door when one of the girls squeals to the top of her lungs? Is the sound insulation that good? And suppose the girls decide to walk you to the hall door without bothering to put their clothes back on? Remember what Selina's parents said about her curiosity."

"Okay, I see your point."

"And did you take care of them properly?" Diana asked with a smile, obviously knowing the answer.

"They were all three asleep. I pulled the sheet over them before I left."

Arlene had just left the shower. As she walked by the couple, "So you licked them unconscious."

Jeff chuckled, "Uh, something like that."

Arlene spun back around, grabbing Jeff's hand and pulling him toward the bed. "You can start with me tonight."

-------

In the other end of the retreat, Margaret and Tina were sitting on Margaret's bed. Margaret had her back to the head of the bed, a pillow behind her. Tina sat partway down the bed with her legs tucked under her. Both were still fully dressed other than their shoes.

" ... He's working while on your honeymoon?" Tina said. "Aren't you mad at him for doing that?"

Margaret smiled back at her. "Actually, he's probably checking his e-mail to pass the time, which he could have done in here, of course. But I sent him to his office — well, our office — so you and I could talk. Both Jeff and Dave decided to call it an early night," she chuckled. "Actually, I think both of them will be busy for a while. Diana and Evie were talking about putting their husbands to work in the bedroom a little earlier than usual tonight."

Tina stood. "It's your honeymoon. Oh, my goodness, I need to get out of here so you two can..."

"Sit," Margaret said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back down on the bed. "We're not done with our talk, yet."

"We have been talking, and I really enjoyed it, but I didn't realize that poor Frank was in his office because..."

"Would you like to make love with him?"

"What? I, uh ... It's your honeymoon. I'm, uh..."

"Do you love him?"

"We've already discussed this. You know I do."

"Do you feel you have to be married to him to make love?"

"Margaret, I'm embarrassed. I..."

Margaret slid over and hugged Tina tightly. "We've talked about his being an Alpha and me being his Queen. I'm not going on my honeymoon until you can go with us. And I'm surely not going to have you in a separate bedroom in that mansion on the island while I try to fuck my husband's brains out. Now answer my question, Love."

Tina's eyes suddenly flooded with tears as she grabbed Margaret and hugged her back. "I don't understand why it happened so fast, but I do love him. You know I do. I'll do whatever you want me to do as long as I can be with the two of you."

"Then why don't we surprise our man? Let's find something sexy for you to wear to bed. When we're ready, I'll call him. In a few days, we can get our Prime and our Queen to marry us. But I want to see the look on your face when Frank comes in you. He comes a lot."

"Are you sure about us making love? I haven't had much experience with sex. I won't be very good at pleasing him, and you're so much prettier than I am."

"Oh, flattery too," Margaret giggled. "I knew I liked you for some reason," she laughed. "Seriously though, you're a beautiful young woman, and Frank and I have been together for a while. He might forget me..."

"You're messing with me," Tina giggled. "You could make a dead man have an erection."

Margaret bounced to her feet and grabbed Tina's hand again. "Come on, let's get a shower and check through your clothes and mine. We'll find something for each of us to knock his socks off with."

"I didn't bring any sexy sleepwear. I wasn't interested in looking sexy for Gregg."

"That's all right. I have enough negligées for a half dozen women. We're close to being the same size. We'll have a ball finding something that's just right for you."

-------

Margaret picked up the phone, punched the intercom button, then dialed Frank's office.

"Yes, Sweetheart," he answered.

Margaret chuckled. "Now what if it had been Jeff?"

"Well, I would have said, 'Whoops, ' and he would have kidded the hell out of me."

"Tina and I had a good talk. Why don't you come back, take a shower and make love to me, My Husband?"

"I'll be right there, Wife."

Margaret put the phone back in its cradle and turned to Tina, now standing in a borrowed negligée. "Oh, my goodness. Frank is going to have a stroke."

The low neckline of the near-transparent negligée proved that the blush, so apparent on Tina's face, also covered the top of her breasts. "I'm scared to death," Tina whispered.

Margaret hugged her quickly. "He's the greatest guy in the world. You already love him, but after tonight, you will be his. Now, hide in the other closet like we planned," Margaret finished as she gently pushed Tina toward the closet door. "I'll come get you when he starts his shower."

-------

Tina stood in the closet shivering from nerves. What have I done? Does he really love me? How did this all happen? I came here with that bastard, Gregg, and Frank rescued me. Now I'm going to make love to Frank. It all happened so fast. What if he doesn't really love me? But it felt so good in his arms. I could feel his love for me. Oh, I don't know.

Margaret was lying in bed, the sheet pulled up to her chin, pretending to read when Frank walked in. As he started for the bed to kiss Margaret, she waved a hand in the direction of the shower. "Hurry and get ready for bed, My Love."

Frank didn't have to be told twice. He changed direction, dropping clothes as he headed for his bath. He showered quickly, but spent the usual extra time washing his groin, even using shampoo there instead of soap. She says she likes the smell of the shampoo, and I damn sure want her to continue to like to suck my dick. I come so hard the world goes black when she sucks me off. Of course, I about faint when I come in that tight pussy of hers, too. As he toweled off, he looked in the mirror. Jeff was right. Little One has given me my young body back. I've always tried to keep in shape, but I've never looked this buff in my life. My body is hard as a rock.

He picked up the dryer and started drying his hair, still amazed at the flex of muscles as he did so. Buying Jeff's invention was the best move I've ever made. Not only is it bringing in tons of money for both of us, but I wound up with a very long life ahead of me, and whatever else Little One has done to me — to us. I'm stronger than I've ever been in my life, and I now have Jeff, Diana and all the rest for ... brothers and sisters. He shook his head, No, not just brothers and sisters, my Prime and his Queen. Jeff says I've always been an Alpha. Now I'm an enhanced Alpha. I picked that shithead up with one hand. One fucking hand. And it wasn't even a strain. Margaret married me. She told me "no" so many times, then after Little One, she finally agreed to marry me. She's my wife now. Now and forever. All of this happened because I bought Jeff's invention and patents. Now there's Tina, too. I was going to say goodnight to her, but I missed her. Hmmm, it's odd that Margaret would send Tina off without my saying goodnight to her. Margaret has pushed Tina and me together, orchestrated the whole thing. I wonder... 

Toweled off and his hair dried, Frank Wainwright stepped into the bedroom ... and stopped. Tina and Margaret were lying side-by-side, Margaret nearer to him and lying on her back. Tina was beside her, but turned on her side with an elbow propped under her head, obviously posed. She was almost spilling out of the pale red negligée she wore. Margaret was wearing a pale pink negligée, and her long nipples lifted the material sexily. Frank's cock swelled and stood proud. He felt the urge to cover himself, since he had never been nude in front of Tina before, but he resisted the impulse.

Tina ran her eyes over him as Frank stood staring at them, a crooked little grin on his face. Oh, shit,  she thought, Margaret wasn't lying. How can I ever take that thing inside me? But Margaret takes it, though, so I can too. Oh, my goodness, he's beautiful. I can feel my face turning hot. He's looking at my breasts. She felt her pussy tingle with a growing ache and wetness starting there. I can't seem to look away from his cock. I'm making a fool of myself. A shiver coursed through her as Frank walked closer to the bed.

Margaret glanced at Tina. "See something you like, My Love?" Margaret teased, her voice sultry.

Tina couldn't get her mouth to work.

"You two sure of this?" Frank said, his voice almost breaking and the room suddenly feeling hot.

Margaret grabbed his hand when he reached the bed, dragging him down to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth hard to his. His body strained for a second at the awkward angle, then he fell forward, barely managing to catch himself to keep from crushing her with his weight. His hand brushed against Tina's breast as he did so, causing her to gasp.

Margaret broke the kiss a while later. "Now your new mate," she whispered.

Tina turned to her back as Frank moved over her. "I..." she managed just before his lips locked to hers. She hadn't realized that she had spread her legs, but he was now lying between them, his chest pressing firmly against her breasts as his tongue tickled her lips asking for entrance. She felt a hand pull at the top of the negligée, gently exposing her breasts. Hands were also caressing the side of her head. Fingers tweaked her right nipple, then pulled gently on it. She suddenly realized that both of Frank's hands were on her face and head. It was Margaret who was toying with her nipples. Oh, my,  she thought, as the fingers on her nipple gently twisted it, then pulled again. She and a girlfriend had played a little in college, but neither had gotten much out of it, both agreeing they didn't have any lesbian tendencies.

A hand pushed upward on Frank's shoulder. He put more weight on his forearms and rose up some. Margaret forced her head between her husband and Tina, licking her right nipple as Frank took his mouth off Tina's to stare down at her. Margaret began to suckle. Frank shifted his hips, and Tina felt his cock move along her outer lips, then slide over her aroused clitoris. Lust flowed through her as Frank unconsciously released his pheromones. Orgasm flashed through Tina like a runaway train. She sucked in a breath, her body bucking against Frank, her hips rotating as she rubbed herself against that wonderful cock.

Margaret continued to suckle and lick one nipple while she worked the other nipple with her hand, prolonging the orgasm. "I've never,  Tina mumbled, "I've never..."

Margaret smiled around the nipple and sucked harder, her own lust ramping up.

Wainwright moved down a little, his cock losing contact as his mouth sought out the nipple Margaret had been teasing with her fingers. He sucked while teasing the nipple with his tongue, much as Margaret was doing with Tina's other breast.

Tina whimpered and rotated her hips seeking the stimulus of his cock on her clit. Frank smiled as he kissed a slow trail from her nipple to just above her clit, then veered aside to miss her bud and continue on down the inside of her thigh. Going up the other thigh, he slowed even more, kissing and nibbling as he went, both of them knowing where he was headed. With her left hand, Tina reached past Margaret to grab Frank's head, trying to pull him to her center. He chuckled, allowing himself to be drawn upward.

Her outer lips were swollen and flushed with pink, her inner lips beginning to part as well. He put both hands beside her pussy, pulling her gently open with his thumbs, then licked up her slit, his mind beginning to mesh with the two women. Three slow licks and he suddenly reached up and sucked hard on her clit. Tina let out a howl and slammed her groin upward, then stayed arched for thirty long seconds as her body shivered violently. Finally, her body collapsed back on the bed as Tina panted harshly.

Margaret pulled back, turning to her side beside Tina and smiled at her husband. "Baby, you better fuck her soon, or else she's going to faint and miss it all."

As Frank positioned himself, Margaret reached for his manhood, pulling it down and lining it up with Tina's entrance.

It's not as if I don't want to push my dick up her, but I was enjoying licking her pussy. She smells a little different to Margaret, but I can smell Margaret too. The smell of an aroused woman has always excited me. My dick is as hard as I've ever felt it in my life. Margaret said Tina was on the pill. She better be because my balls are so full of sperm; I swear I can feel it.

Wainwright pushed forward a little, popping the head of his cock past her opening. Tina hissed in a breath; her pussy fluttered and spasmed almost as if it were trying to draw him in. She was hot, wet and slick. He pushed hard, forcing her pussy to expand and accept him, until his cock jammed against Tina's womb. She arched her head back, her mouth forming a silent "O" as she grunted. "Oh, my..." she shakily said. "I feel ... Oh my goodness."

Margaret slipped a hand between them to tease Tina's right breast, as Frank set up a slow rhythm, then bending down, he nursed her left breast. Margaret leaned over and kissed Tina, then kissed Frank's cheek, her own lust increasing by the second.

Tina pulled her knees back, bracing her feet on the bed as she mewed and whined, her hips suddenly lunging upward, holding her ass off the bed again as Frank's pace picked up. "Oh, shit. Here it comes," he gasped out.

Tina felt the big cock swell, then pulse within her, warmth pouring onto her womb. Frank pulled back and slammed forward, his weight pushing her hips back down and driving them into the mattress. He and Tina held themselves locked together as his cock pulsed out his semen over and over again. Tina made a strangling noise, her hips writhing under him, then went limp.

"I almost passed out, too," Frank said to Margaret a few seconds later when he had his breath back. When she didn't respond, he shook her shoulder a little. When she still didn't respond, "Well, I'll be damned. I guess it does work like Jeff said." Chuckling, he pulled out of Tina and rolled to the right to lie beside his new mate. "Well, I'll be damned," he said again, grinning.



-------

Chapter 97

4:00 A.M. SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 20

Jeff, having been awake for fifteen minutes or so and knowing he wouldn't go back to sleep, gave up and slowly began to extract himself from the pile of women. Diana was lying with a leg thrown across his leg and her upper body across his side, her head resting on his shoulder with his arm around her. Laura was on his left side in relatively the same position as Diana. The problem was Arlene, who sometime during the night had crawled on top of him and was nestled between Diana and Laura. His cock was hard at this time of the morning, of course, and it was snuggled between Arlene's legs, tight against her groin. Arlene was deeply asleep, evidenced by the drool on his chest and her slow, deep breathing.

Diana opened one eye and glared at him as he moved her to her back. "Going to go exercise," he whispered. Laura was a little harder to move, but she apparently didn't wake up. He finally managed to wiggle from under Arlene and get her positioned in his recently vacated place. There was a little mumbling as he pulled the sheet up and the women adjusted until they were all snuggled together again, but no one awakened fully.

Jeff hadn't showered last night after servicing his women. Even though they had cleaned his cock with a washcloth and their mouths, he decided to take a quick shower before heading to the exercise machines.

After the shower, he hesitated in the big walk-in closet as he chose his clothing. His Gore-Tex running outfit hung near, almost mocking him. The feather-light material, zipped up and tabbed together until the pants and jacket almost became one, would keep out the cold and hold in the heat of his body, but he had already tried running on the thin snowpack the plow left on the road. Busting his butt on the steep grades wasn't a lot of fun; the only alternative was the cursed treadmill.

Resignedly, he donned a pair of his running shorts and a light tee shirt, then sat to put on his running shoes. Treadmill, here I come,  he thought as he walked back into the bedroom. Little One had elected to stay in her drawer last night. He opened the drawer, put his hand on her and mentally said, I'm going to run a few miles on the treadmill. Want to come with me?

Receiving an affirmative answer, he picked her up and pulled his collar open. Shortly, she was spread out over his shoulders and part way down his back.

He left their suite and jogged down the hallway until he reached the basement stairway near the north end of the retreat. As he stepped on the nearest treadmill a few minutes later, he shrugged out of his tee shirt, draping it on the machine next to his. Pressing the earbuds into place, then adjusting the sound level to his liking, he started the treadmill at a moderate pace to warm up. After the first quarter mile, he upped the machine to his normal pace and turned the sound up a little more, resigning himself to the boredom of running on the equipment.

A small figure quietly opened the stairway door and descended. Selina had seen the door closing as she rounded the corner in the long hall, so she was sure someone was in the basement. She knew it could be some of the women starting out to exercise early in the morning, but somehow she suspected that it might be Mr. Matthews, instead. Jeff. He told me to call him Jeff.

At the bottom of the stairs, she looked around, but saw no one. Thinking he might be in the weight room, she cautiously opened the door, but he wasn't there. At the door to the bigger exercise room, she hesitated, then slowly turning the knob, she pushed the door open an inch or so. She could hear the treadmill running, and knew the sound because of their gym at home. Odd, I can hear the machine very well, but his footsteps on it are barely audible, even for me.

Pushing the door open a little more, she peeked through the crack at the Prime that Doctor Boswell seemed to be so enthused about. I feel strongly about him, too. I feel safe when he puts his arms around me. I've never reacted that way before. Continuing to watch, she thought, I strongly suspect that Mom and Dad do not realize that Arlene is Mr. Matthews' daughter,  she chuckled to herself. Probably, they think that Arlene and Diana are sisters. There is a striking resemblance between the two — well three, counting the grandmother as well. Something is going on that I am unable to discern. Why do both Diana and her mother appear so young? Dr. Boswell also? There are so many unanswered questions. What about Laura? Is she also older than she seems? My research must continue.

A moment later, Odd. Something is not right. She pushed the door open a little farther to improve her side view of Jeff. His pace is phenomenal. Her mind immediately began to estimate the length of his stride, then started counting his steps as she mentally counted off the seconds to arrive at an approximation of his running speed. Shortly, I must have made a mistake. Surely that can't be right. Again her analytical brain did the easy math. I'm not wrong. He is running at a world-class sprinter speed, maybe even faster. I wonder how long he can maintain that. Surely not very long.

Selina stood with her eye to the crack for five minutes by her internal clock. He's barely sweating and his breathing is still normal. How can he do that? And what is that on his back and shoulders? I wish he would turn a little more to the left so I could see better. Maybe it is a heating pad because of an injury to his back, or perhaps something to keep him cool while he exercises.

{{{ Selina has been watching at the door for a while now, }}} Little One told Jeff.

I didn't hear her with the music playing in my ears,  Jeff thought back to the small alien. What is she doing?

{{{ She appears to be only watching. }}}

I need to get that tee shirt on without turning my back to her,  Jeff thought. Then as the door opened fully and Selina stepped in. Oh, shit. Now what do I do?

Jeff turned the music off and snatched the earbuds out, trying to turn casually in her direction and step on the side rails of the treadmill at the same time, but Little One was still too high on his shoulders to conceal her completely as he did so.

Shit. She's a kid, maybe she didn't... 

"What is that on your back, Mr. Matthews? Is it a heating pad you are using because of an injury, or perhaps something to keep your body cool when you are running at such a rapid pace?"

Don't move Little One. Maybe I can...  but he chopped the thought off in its infancy. Lying isn't a good way to start a relationship. Those beautiful blue eyes are staring at the top of my right shoulder, straight at Little One. Selena wouldn't believe a lie anyway. She's too smart for that. Oh, shit.

"May I see it? Whatever it is, I have never seen anything like it."

Instead of turning to shut the machine off, Jeff just yanked the emergency "key" out that was snapped to his belt via a cord. The key was designed so that if someone fell off the treadmill, the key would be jerked out of the machine and it would shut down with the belt stopping instantly. Jeff stepped off the rail and stood looking at the child, then resigning himself, he slowly turned until his back was to her. Quietly, "It isn't a heating pad to treat an injury, nor something to keep me cool, either."

Selina reached a tentative hand toward Jeff's back to touch Little One. "What is..." She took a quick step back, looked down at her hand for a second, then looked back at Little One. "It ... I heard something," she said, voicing her thoughts as the intensity of the situation hit. "I ... It is alive."

With a sigh, Jeff sat down on the side of the treadmill so that he could face her and not completely block her view at the same time. Selina reached out a tentative hand again, but this time stopped just before she touched Little One.

"She won't hurt you," Jeff reassured.

Selina touched with a fingertip, then stroked gently with her hand. The word "she" hadn't gone unnoticed, though. "I hear a ... buzzing — but I feel something, too." Her voice suddenly became stronger, more assured. "Contentment. I feel contentment from whatever it is. It is alive, isn't it?" There was no fear in her voice now, but rather, awe.

Selina seemed finally to tear her eyes away, then looking at Jeff as the man sat before her on the rail beside the treadmill belt, "I've never read about, seen on TV or the net, anything about this creature. What is it? I would have read something about it. It's as though it..." She stopped in mid-sentence as those startling blue eyes locked with Jeff's. "It — she, didn't you say? She feels ... She is alien, isn't she?"

Not waiting for an answer, Selina continued, "Does she have a symbiotic relationship with you?" Remembering a science fiction movie, "Does she use your blood? Is she attached to your spine? Can you talk to her?"

"Whoa. Whoa, there my little friend." Then to Little One, Why don't you go back to your original form so you and Selina can get acquainted?

Without answering, Little One flowed up Jeff's back, and in a few seconds was sitting on his right shoulder.

"Are you sure she won't injure me? Is she some type of polymorph?" Selina asked, but she had already reached out her hand again before Jeff could answer. "May I hold her? I will be careful and not drop her."

Jeff chuckled as he handed Little One to Selina. "Dropping her would be an insult, but it would take far more than that to physically hurt her. She can be destroyed, but not easily. You might want to think of her as an AI, but actually, she is far more than that, and she is, indeed, alive."

"My parents would never let me have a puppy," Selina said as she abruptly sat on the floor with Little One in her lap stroking the small AI. "I can hear a ... buzzing and as I suspected a moment ago, it is not audible. I also ... feel ... It is almost as if she is purring, but not exactly. She likes me," she stated emphatically.

I was a fool. I've become so accustomed to not having to hide Little One here in the retreat. Shit, I never thought a six-year-old would be up this time in the morning. I'll need to talk with the General and find out if it is safe to use the blocks on someone so young. But then again, who would believe a six-year-old if she started talking about a little alien that buzzes to her. Everyone Selina tried to tell would think Little One was just an imaginary friend. Shit, how am I going to explain Little One without telling about the ship? Since Little One has nullified my blocks, I could talk to Selina about everything, but no one else here could. Shit, this is fast becoming a mess.

"Where did you get her, Mr. Matthews? Wait, she's intelligent, isn't she? She seemed to flow up your back when you reached for her. Was that instinct, or did you somehow communicate with her?"

Ah, fuck,  Jeff thought.

Selina speech patterns changed as the words tumbled from her almost too fast to understand. "The buzzing. I didn't hear it — not aloud, anyway." Selina's eyes locked with his, "She's telepathic, isn't she? Where did she come from? How did you get her?"

"Selina, I can't tell you where I got her."

"'Can't, '" she quoted, her mind working faster than she could get the words out. "I saw one of those big Chinook helicopters yesterday. I'm almost certain it was military. I was looking out one of the back windows, but it didn't stop here, it went on past and landed. I couldn't see it land, but I'm positive it did. I used my laptop to bring up Google Earth. It took me a few minutes to find this building, then follow the road on to the next building. It is long and narrow and there are three clearings down the mountain culminating near the building. It's obviously a ski resort. A few minutes of searching data bases and local news items allowed me to determine that the ski lodge had been abandoned after an avalanche. But it isn't abandoned now, is it?

"The security person at the helipad wore an unusual helmet when he checked us. It is cold up here and he obviously needs protection for his head when his job dictates that he is stationed outside, but ... incorporating the military helicopter landing next door at an abandoned ski lodge, plus the fact that you sold an invention to Mr. Wainwright — my father said the military has a new type of radar that everyone is raving over, and he thought you designed it. Your choice of words intrigues me. You said you 'can't' tell me. All of this combined, plus the way you carry yourself and your posture, leads me to believe you are in some way associated with the military."

Oh, shit. Now I have two of them in the house,  Jeff grumped to himself. Well, at least Helen learned tact years ago, and uses it when she takes a couple facts and extrapolates something that no one else has a clue about. Maybe she'll teach Selina to be more tactful, too, else my life is going to become even more exciting.

It didn't occur to Jeff that he did the same thing, particularly in combat, and it had saved his and his teams' lives more than once.

They sat talking for a while as Selina continue to stroke Little One. When her questions went unanswered, she frowned at him. "Would you prefer I leave and let you continue with your exercise?"

Jeff, still sitting on the treadmill, chuckled. "What I would 'prefer' is to not have to run on this thing at all."

Selina frowned as she thought about what Jeff said, "There are other types of aerobic exercise. There is a stair machine," she said, pointing. "Or you could row, or use other of the machines to keep your heart rate up for an extended period of time."

"I've used everything in here at one time or another, but I like to run on the road."

"The ice is the problem?" Selina offered.

"Yeah."

"There are manufacturers that make running shoes for ice and snow."

"I have two pairs. One has tiny chains on the soles; the other has little steel pegs. They work great as long as there is a good coating of ice or snow, but they feel odd when I hit bare pavement. The pair with the little chains tend to wiggle and feel odd. The pair with the steel pegs make my feet hurt. If one of those little spikes hits a crack just right, it hangs. I'm a distance runner. I guess either of the types would work for short distances, but my feet and ankles hurt when I get home, and they're sore the next day."

Selina looked at the man before her. He is the absolute in male anatomy. Even I can see that. I suspect that if I had reached puberty, I would be even more aware, and perhaps attracted to that anatomy.

She stroked Little One a last time and handed her back to Jeff. She sat looking at him as Little One spread out over his shoulders and back once again.

"What?" Jeff said, amusement in his voice, as Selina continued to stare at him.

"I am sure that Doctor Boswell has told you I read fairly quickly," Selina started.

"About as fast as you can turn the pages, according to Helen," Jeff added.

Selena sighed, the sigh and mannerism that of an adult. "I have read of another option. I remember the Internet address, of course. I could bring my laptop and show you. It will only take about four minutes for me to run back to my suite and bring the computer."

Jeff smiled at her, but she read something else into the smile, and she was right.

"Do you know where my lab is?"

"Certainly," she said, both of them smiling at the revelation of her exploration.

"The door now opens with a key combination." Astounding her, he gave her the combination. "Be aware there is equipment in there that can hurt you if used improperly. I will honor your word that you will not touch any of the equipment without my presence and specific permission. My office opens off the lab. Incidentally, that warning was not given because you are six, as any of my wives will attest. There is a laptop on my desk."

"I will not touch anything."

Selina was out the door almost before Jeff finished. He is not treating me as a child. This cannot be an inconsequential thing. He has shown trust; a large portion of it. I will not dishonor that trust. She quickly entered the combination and opened the door. Looking around the lab, she noted there were several pieces of equipment that she had never seen before. Well, I have never seen any of them,  she admitted to herself.

Her curiosity screamed for her to examine the equipment, but without even slowing, she turned to enter Jeff's office. The laptop was where he said it was. As she reached out a hand to pick it up, she paused as her eyes fell on a desktop computer that stood on the other end of the desk. She sniffed, then walked closer to the computer. There was a distinct smell, though faint, of something having burned, but the power wire was unplugged. She badly wanted to examine the computer, but froze. This may be a test. Regardless, I need to hurry back, lest he begin to think that I have broken my word.

She hastened out, then turned after she went through the lab's outer door to check that the lock had engaged properly. Hurrying back toward the exercise room, His laptop is bigger and heavier than mine. My parents bought mine because it was light, thus enabling my small build to deal more easily with it. I would rather have one with a wide screen and be slightly inconvenienced by the weight, though. I wonder about the fire smell in his desktop, it does not smell fresh, and the computer is unplugged. When did it happen? How did it happen? It is odd that an electrical engineer should do something that would cause a fire inside his computer.

Her mind sought possibilities, going over what she knew. Military helicopters, an alien riding on his shoulders, security personnel with odd helmets, a computer fire. I'll have to search the Internet to find out what rifle security is carrying. I thought I had seen pictures of most of the rifles in the world. I don't remember seeing anything just like what the security officer had, though. Her mind continued to bounce from one thought to another in the few seconds it took to walk from the lab to the exercise room. How could a scorched computer ... That keypad looked new and he said "the door now opens with a key combination." The implication is that the keypad lock replaced a different model, and that recently. Hmmm. Their AI program announced the arrival of my parents yesterday; the screen in the kitchen came on and showed them as they stopped at the bottom of the drive when the security guard looked in the SUV. We have competent security at home, and having security is common for wealthy people. Still, there are connotations here... 

She opened the door and went in. Jeff was working his upper body on one of the machines. "I will have the article up in a moment," she said as she sat on the floor where she had before, opened the computer and booted it up.

A couple minutes later, "Here is the article. You might find it interesting."

Jeff got off the machine, walked over to the six-year-old, folded his legs and sat beside her on the floor. The Prime, not being a slouch with his reading, either, quickly took in the article, and the picture of a shoe sole with eighteen sheet metal screws in it. "I heard a runner talk about this, but I've never tried it."

"You should buy some sheet metal screws and experiment," Selena offered.

Jeff thought for a second, his subconscious nagging at him. "Wait. Dave has a lot of his tools and stuff down here. Let's go see what we can find. I don't want to wake him so early, or I would call him. Come on, let's go look."

Grabbing Selina's hand, the two walked out of the exercise room, then turned toward the other side of the enormous basement. A little later, Jeff opened a bin and pulled a small box of screws out of the compartment. "Three-eights of an inch sheet metal screws," he said, triumphantly. There's an electric drill in the lab. Shortly they were back in the lab at a vacant workbench. "Bring that step stool over so you can stand on it," Jeff said, pointing.

(Note: Sheet metal screws generally have a head on them that has a small lip around the edge. The screws can be used with either a screwdriver or a small socket.)

According to the website, maintained by a distance runner, the lip around the head of the sheet metal screw did a good job of keeping a runner's foot from sliding on ice or packed snow, but also gave good stability on pavement as well.

Jeff offered Selina a bright yellow marker. "Mark the shoe where you think I need to put the screws. We'll give it a try."

The tread was different from that shown on the shoe that was pictured on the website, so Selina had to adapt the pattern somewhat, winding up with twenty places she felt the screws should go. While she was marking the second shoe, Jeff quickly screwed the tiny screws into the sole of his right running shoe. Shortly, both shoes had sheet metal screws decorating the soles.

Selina was very pleased that he was treating her as an adult. "If it does not work as anticipated, you can remove the screws without any real damage to your shoes," Selina offered.

"If it doesn't work, it will be our secret," Jeff joked. "If Dave hears about this, he'll kid me forever."

"One more thing; I need some tape," Jeff said. Rummaging around, he found a roll of duct tape. A couple of minutes more and he had ruined the looks of a perfectly nice pair of running shoes. "That mesh on the top is great for summer wear, and goes a long way toward keeping my feet from sweating, but it produces a cold, wet foot in snow. The tape will keep out the wet, and ... it will come off if this doesn't work," he laughed.

"May I watch?" Selina said, barely suppressing a giggle.

"Yeah, sure you can. I'll tell the AI that you're now one of us so it will respond to your commands. I'll try out the shoes in the back parking lot. You can watch from the mudroom, then when I go down the drive — assuming the shoes work — you can use any of the monitors or TVs to watch me all the way to the road. But I need to go back to our suite and get some winter clothes on before I go outside. Come on. It will only take a minute for me to put my Gore-Tex outfit on and get a pair of heavier socks."

They stopped by the kitchen where Jeff started the coffee and introduced Selina to the AI.

"You don't have any cameras inside the building?" she asked.

Jeff hesitated for a second. "We discussed it, but that would involve privacy issues. If only my wives and I lived here, it would be different."

"You could mount cameras in the hallways..."

"We've discussed it, especially after..." But Jeff stopped. If he mentioned the attack, other questions would follow. Questions he didn't want to answer.

Selina, of course, noticed, but went on as if nothing happened, appearing to enjoy having the AI change the view from camera to camera, although there was little to see other than the security lights on the snow.

-------

The women were still asleep as Jeff quietly walked through the bedroom to get his running clothes. As soon as he was dressed, he left the suite and turned on his radio. "One to base," he said, using the throat mike.

"Base here," someone said almost instantly, obvious tension in her voice.

"Nothing is wrong," Jeff assured her. "I'm just going for my morning run."

"Give us ten minutes and we'll be waiting at the bottom of the drive for you, Colonel," security responded.

"Take your time, base. I should have called before. I'll wait until you're ready. I have some ... altered running shoes I'm going to try out."

Jeff knew that security would be alert at their posts, but they wouldn't have expected an escort at this time of the morning.

Selina was waiting for him at the back door and was now wearing her coat. "That coat isn't enough to stay outside for any length of time, and I had rather you have someone with you when you do go out," Jeff tried to tactfully say. "I met up with a grizzly a while back. He may have been the only one in the whole county for all I know, but he almost killed me. We have the AI now to warn us, and we have a very watchful security force, of course, but still, there are a lot of woods and rugged terrain around us. Anything is possible."

There was an instant of shock on Selina's face, then her expression changed and a slight frown started as Selina remembered only one small circular scar on his right chest and a matching one on his back, her mind almost certain the two scars were caused by a single bullet passing through him. If a bear almost killed him, there should be mauling scars from the bear, she thought.

Anticipating, Jeff hastened to say, "I won't lie to you. There are some things I won't talk about, but I will not lie to you. The bear was real, and he was not the only one that has been seen in the area. Well, not recently, but Frank Wainwright told me they saw a couple while they were building the retreat. Please don't go outside without a buddy. Di will take care of getting you some heavier clothing soon — assuming your parents will let you stay with us."

Selina smiled up at him. "My parents will let me stay. I am sure of it. I will just stand by the back door and look out. My first thought about the bear was that you were using a typical scare tactic toward a child, but everything considered, I choose to trust you until proven wrong. At your convenience, I would like to know more about the bear, though."

While they had been talking, Jeff had sat on a bench by the door to don his running shoes. As he stood, he pulled his cold weather running mask over his head, then pulled the hood up on his Gore-Tex outfit.

"You look like Darth Vader in that mask," Selina giggled, sounding like a typical six-year-old.

Jeff grinned back at her as he stepped into the mudroom, then walked around some. "The shoes don't feel much different walking on the entry tile. I suspect the screws would catch on carpet, but on this floor they seem to do fine." Halfway out the door, he turned back to Selina, "Are you going to watch me from the kitchen when I start down the drive?" At Selina's nod, "Would you tell my wives that I'll be late for breakfast?"

"I will," the six-year-old said as Jeff carefully negotiated the few steps, unsure of the altered shoes.

Selina watched as he slowly jogged partway across the parking lot. The lot had been plowed repeatedly. In the areas where there hadn't been any traffic, the thin snow pack was still fairly soft. Other areas had a harder pack where vehicles had repeatedly driven over it. The screws bit into the icy patches and seem to make little difference in the feel when he hit bare pavement. Encouraged, he waved again to Selina and started around the drive toward the front of the retreat. The wind was still for once and the temperature was eight below zero F. Cold, but not nearly as cold as it would get on the mountain when winter really arrived.

Showing off, the AI brought the driveway lights up as Jeff approached, then returned them to their security setting as he went past. When in the heck did the AI get hooked up to the lights? Jeff thought. This smells strongly of Dave. Grinning, he continued on. Very little ice or snow on the drive. Between Dave, Arlene and me, snow accumulation doesn't have much of a chance on the driveway. The shoes feel a little different, but not enough to really distract me. We'll see when I can run full out.

Security stepped out of his house, came to attention and saluted as Jeff passed. One Escalade moved out ahead of him as he turned onto the county road, the other hanging back a little way.

"Kill your lights and go dark," Jeff said into his mike, knowing their helmets would compensate in the darkness.

There had been a mad scramble at the ski lodge when Jeff called to announce he was going for a run. Lieutenant Mayfield, standing in shorts and tee shirt, was halfway through his morning shave. He dropped the razor, wiped hastily at the shaving cream with a towel, yanked on his suit, jammed his boots on, then grabbed his helmet and rifle. He almost collided with Carter in the hallway.

"You're with me," Mayfield snapped.

"Sir," Carter acknowledged with a grin.

On a separate channel, Mayfield gave orders, then told the ready room to only send two troopers. He and Carter would take the second vehicle. Someone slapped a thermos of coffee in Carter's hand, then the two crashed out the front door and sprinted for the second Escalade as the two ready troopers began to roll.

Mayfield was all too aware that practically everything he or his team did would be observed and evaluated — and as the one in charge, he should probably wait and watch, but he just couldn't do it this time. The assignment was too new. They had only been on site a few days, and the Colonel hadn't run while they were here. Mayfield was going, but he knew that a lot of techs back at the main base were suddenly very alert, monitoring their equipment, and looking at everything he did via the cameras.

Not only did he have satellite imagery and feeds from a virtual plethora of cameras, but there was a crew of technicians — and brass — at the base that saw everything he saw — heard everything he heard. This was a make or break assignment. The General had personally told him that Colonel Matthews or his wives better never have to defend themselves again at their home. Then later, the Major had reiterated it in language that could not be misunderstood.

If I ask for something, I get it — no questions asked. I have sufficient personnel and then some. The Major will be here Monday to begin weapon installation. That's not my worry now. Well, not the installation, anyway, but I suspect the whole thing will be under my command after the installation, if I don't screw up in the meantime.

"He's going to bust his ass. There's too much fucking ice to be out running," Mayfield told Carter as Jeff turned onto the road in front of them. "If he breaks his leg, the major is going to be all over my ass."

Carter blew on the steaming coffee, then took a loud sip. "Wanna bet on that — about busting his ass, I mean? I've got a hundred says he won't."

Lieutenant Mayfield looked over at Carter. "You have got to be kidding. He'll bust his ass in the first mile."

"Won't bust his ass at all. Put your money where your mouth is, Lieutenant. Uh, respectfully, Sir."

"It's a bet."

Each man grinned as he thought about the easy hundred he was certain to make.



-------

Chapter 98

Colonel Matthews' voice on the radio: "Kill your lights and go dark."

Lieutenant Mayfield switched the Escalade's lights off, as did the driver in the front vehicle. "He isn't wearing a helmet," Mayfield said as his visor slid into place, its night vision equipment giving him a perfect view of the road and Colonel Matthews in front of him. "We have heavy cloud cover. It's dark as shit. How in the fuck is he going to see?"

Carter chuckled as his visor slid into place also. Hitting the button to lower his window, he poured his coffee out and put the cup on the floorboard. As the window came back up, No way to drink my coffee with the visor in place. Oh, well. Then to the Lieutenant, "I've learned to do exactly as he says. He's personally saved my ass twice. By making the right decisions, or smelling out an ambush, hell, no telling how many times he's saved the whole team."

"Yeah, but he got himself shot back on that planet, didn't he?"

"That was a couple years ago. We underestimated those aliens — all of us did. None of us had seen weapons there that could shoot accurately that far. It should never have happened. Bottom line; he's human. He fucked up and gave that sniper a shot. Sarge came up with the idea of putting Colonel Matthews in that ... coffin-like thing that turned out to be a healing chamber. Of course, the Colonel eventually brought us home on a starship. I'll bet that grabbed the General's ass," he chuckled. Then, "Damn, I wanted that coffee."

Ignoring Carter's comment, "Maybe I should have told the medics to follow in their vehicle. He's going to fall and hurt himself..." As a satellite came over the horizon with its detection equipment adding to the information he already had, Mayfield paused as he listened to the update. Then on the troopers' channel, barely keeping the humor out of his voice, he repeated, "Within two hundred yards of the road, we have two elk in the first mile, a moose and three deer during the third mile and two more deer near mile five. There are two people in bed in the first house, then it's more than three miles to the second house, where there are three people in two rooms of that house. Confirmation on the people in the houses from camera recordings yesterday and also from current scans. All are residents."

"He's running at a six-minute per mile pace according to my helmet," Carter offered. "Didn't he say something about trying out some new shoes?"

"Yeah, I think so. Altered or something. I was shaving at the time, but I think that's what he said. Hell of a time to try them out. Looks like he would have done that in daylight."

"He's just cruising. Getting used to them," Carter said.

As though he had heard Carter, Jeff suddenly increased his pace. "Shit," Mayfield hissed out. "He'll bust his ass for sure now."

"Want to up that bet?" Carter asked.

"No, damnit. I don't. If he hurts himself, the Major will be all over my ass, not to even mention the General."

"Four-minute pace," Carter said.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We've all heard how he runs, but he won't last long out here. Besides, he's going downhill; wait until he starts back up. He'll be walking at least part of the way and that four-minute pace will go out the window. Couple miles downhill is easy, coming back up this mountain is going to be a bitch."

"He'll run twenty," Carter said.

"No way. Five miles at the most on this mountain, I'll bet."

Mayfield couldn't see the grin behind Carter's visor. "Twenty minimum."

The Lieutenant snapped a look at Carter, "What? No way. Not on this road. Why would you say that?"

"There is a blaze on a tree five miles down, and another at ten miles. I figure he'll turn at the ten-mile tree. Another hundred?" Carter said, holding his breath.

"He is not going to run twenty miles on this steep road, particularly as slick as it is — no way."

"Put your money..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Mayfield interrupted. "I just don't want to take that much money from a trooper."

"There's nobody but me, Lieutenant. You won't be taking it away from my family or anything," Carter offered, hoping.

"It's a bet. If you just insist on throwing your money away, I might as well take it. He'll turn back before the ten-mile tree, and ... he has to run back. No walking."

"You're on LT. That extra two hundred is going to buy me a good time one of these days."

-------

Jeff had actually noticed the change as his body shifted into FFA (Free Fatty Acid mobilization). Before Little One, this had occurred three or four miles into the run, and even then, it was a gradual thing. The change had happened earlier and earlier when he had been running prior to the first snowfall, but this time the shift came just as he turned onto the county road at the foot of the driveway, and it seemed to happen almost from one step to the other. His breathing slowed and became easy. If he had had a running partner, he could have carried on a conversation even as he ran. FFA gradually happened to distance runners several miles into the run, if they were running at a moderate pace and not flat out.

{{{ Your body is continuing to evolve, }}} Little One offered.

The surface of the road was varied: patches of ice, patches of snow a couple inches deep that the plow had missed due to the road not being perfectly level, and other areas where the plow and wind had scoured the surface clean. Careful at first, he held his pace down, placing his feet carefully as the road changed. His feet needed to hit each type of surface in a slightly different manner. He slipped several times while he learned, but his reflexes caught him before there was even a visible stagger.

With the advent of FFA, his mind became even clearer, entering what runners usually refer to as free association. Before the snows came, he had used this time to plan his day and think about his next invention. He set a level of his mind on the placement of his feet, then let his consciousness drift. It briefly occurred to him that his ability to see in low light had become even better. Before, he had to concentrate to bring the ability on line. Now it seemed that a level of his mind took on that function without conscious thought from him. He felt a smug thought from Little One and sent her a thank you.

His feet were getting cold and he was beginning to be aware of his cock. His running shoes were not designed for this. Almost without conscious thought, he directed more blood flow to his feet and groin. He had heard rumors about runners who had actually gotten frostbite, or something similar, on their dicks. Smiling, he remembered putting Diana's hand on his cock after having run in cold weather. She had hissed in a breath and jerked her hand back. Then smiling up at him, she had dropped to her knees and taken him into her mouth. One heck of a way to get his dick warm. A smile touched his lips as he thought of the incident — and her.

That was long ago on a military base in Montana. So much had changed since their arrival here a few short months ago. He remembered the agony of indecision as he had considered divorce. That seemed like something from a dream — or a nightmare. Now, it was as if they were newlyweds all over again. He loved her — loved all his wives — beyond words to describe. But his Queen was special. She — enhances my life. Makes everything better. We complement each other. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. Without her, I would be nothing. Yet she brings me women to add to my ... harem. That word seems crude, and falls far short of describing my relationships with my other wives. I'll spend some extra time with my Queen today just to show her how much I love her and how much I appreciate what she has done for me.

His mind drifted for a time, then, I hate this security shit. I have to inconvenience people just to go for a run. Fuck, everything was going along just fine until those two idiots and their ... buddies decided to try and kill us. I hope that son-of-a-bitch who shot Arlene burns in Hell. How can a man shoot a woman — a girl, for crying out loud? But she killed his ass.

I need to work with my wives on the range again. We've shot some lately, but not nearly enough. Shooting has to be second nature to my wives. But they did pretty damn well. Jennie blew that fucker's brains all over the wall. If it bothered her afterward, she hasn't shown it. Arlene has had a hard time because of her near-death experience. She still maintains she died, but like Jennie, if shooting that bastard bothered her, she hasn't shown it.

I think Di is still pissed at Hagewood — and herself — because he managed to manhandle her. He had to outweigh her at least three times over, but everything considered, I kind of wish I had held off for a second so that she was positive that it was her rounds that killed his ass.

And then there's Kayla. The General has saddled her with protecting me. That really scares me. She's certainly capable, but she hasn't had the training my team has, and I know that she will protect me with her life. Her training only consisted of the minimum everyone has to have before going off-planet, plus the time she has spent on the base range on her own. I'm going to have to increase her training somehow, but if I do, then she will want to go on missions with us. I can't risk my wife — I can't. I couldn't function properly on a mission with her there. I could never send her into danger, and treating her differently would tear the unit apart, so she can't train with them. Shit, how am I going to get her trained? I'll figure something out. Guess I can start out by training her with a combat helmet. That will give her an edge. Maybe I need to talk to Lieutenant Mayfield. Have her join in with their security training. Hmmm. I need to discuss that with my Queen and Kayla before I do anything else about it.

The miles drifted by, various levels of his enhanced brain acting without conscious thought. A part of him searched ahead and to the sides of the road for danger. Another level concentrated on putting his feet down without slipping or causing any more noise than was absolutely necessary. That slap, slap, slap of a runner's feet hitting the pavement was the result of wasted energy, not much, but wasted, nonetheless. On dry pavement or ice his steps were near silent, on the areas where there was snow he could hear the crunch of the snow as his feet settled into it. Maybe he could never be completely silent, but a level of his brain worked on it, anyway.

Selina,  he thought. How will that work out? She seems confident her parents will enroll her in Helen's school, but her parents giving over total authority to us is probably going to be a big hurdle. We did reach a tentative agreement, though. Selina said we should wait and let them take the next step. Shit, I'm like Arlene. I just want to hug Selina and pull her onto my lap. This better work out, and quickly. He smiled behind his running mask. Helen is trying to hide it, but unless I miss my guess, she is almost frantic to get Selina here with us. Hmmm. I'll have to let Little One check Selina out soon. Can't have her getting sick. What will Selina be with Little One to make her body perfect so early in life?

Shit, there's the ten-mile tree already. Time to head back.

-------

Carter stood in the hall by the Lieutenant's quarters. Mayfield stepped out the door and handed Carter two folded one hundred dollar bills.

"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the donation. Next R and R when I buy the drinks, I'll tell the guys and gals how nice you were to supplement our drinking fund."

Mayfield forced out a sick laugh. "Worth the money. Lesson well learned." Then he thought, I underestimated Colonel Matthews yet again. And ... I've damn sure learned to not let Carter sucker me into betting with him.

-------

Selina met Jeff at the back door, the six-year-old almost jumping up and down in her excitement. "The shoes appeared to work perfectly on the driveway, but I was not able to see you after that. Did they work as anticipated on the road? You are not late for breakfast. How far did you go? How did..."

Jeff picked her up and spun them around, laughing. "Because of you, I'm back on the road again. The shoes worked great, and I ran my usual twenty."

The Prime put Selina down and sat on the bench to take off his shoes.

"Twenty? Twenty miles?" Her mind automatically did the math. He maintained an approximate four-minute pace over twenty miles on a mountain road? And there were bound to be patches of snow and ice. His running clothes show no signs of a fall.

"Uh huh. I was able to do it because of you. Thank you Selina."

Selina blushed, suddenly becoming modest as she looked down.

Do kids blush? I don't think kids blush. I can't remember if Arlene did at Selina's age or not,  Jeff thought.

Selina sat on the bench beside him as Jeff untied his shoes and slipped them off. Turning them over, he looked at the arrangement of screws. She marked the positions for the screws perfectly, and she did it quickly. Heck, it looks like the shoes came from the manufacturer with the screws already installed. I gave up when the shoes I bought didn't work properly. I never even considered trying the screw thing. Oh, well, out of the mouths of babes,  he thought.

Selina sat on the bench swinging her feet, then, "You really are a Prime, aren't you? You just did something no one else could possibly do. My estimate of your pace on the treadmill was not incorrect like I worried. Also, you have invented something that is extraordinary, according to my father. I think I have made the correct decision by deciding to attend Doctor Boswell's school. I think there will be very interesting things happening here. Your primary wife...

"Queen," Jeff offered.

"Your Queen has welcomed me, just as you did. You have an alien who..."

"Rides my shoulders."

" ... rides your shoulders and who seems to communicate with you by using telepathy. Are you a telepath?"

Jeff chuckled as he stood. "Nope. Wish I was, though." He surprised her by reaching down and tickling her. Selina squealed and tried to get away. Laughing, Jeff let her go after a few seconds. "Go tell my wives I will be there in about ten minutes, please."

"Are you going to take a shower before breakfast?"

"Yeah," Jeff replied. "I probably smell a bit ripe after the run."

"I also have a very keen sense of smell, but I would not call the odor 'ripe.' Rather, I would suspect that your wives would refer to it in an entirely different manner, and they might very well consider the odor to be an attractant. I will return to the kitchen and continue to assist with breakfast while you shower."

Jeff was at a loss what to say, "Uh. I'll see you in a few minutes."

"Yes, Prime," she said with a smirk, then ran off down the hall.

In their suite, he showered quickly, put on shorts, jeans, a pullover shirt, socks, and another pair of running shoes, then headed for the kitchen. As he walked in the door, Selina put a platter of scrambled eggs on the table. By the time he seated himself, Melissa was pouring his coffee and the rest of the food was on the table.

When everyone was settled, Jeff had a short prayer of thanks for the food. Frank Wainwright was seated farther down the table with Margaret on his right and Tina on his left. Both women were putting food on his plate. Margaret had a grin on her face that seemed permanent, and Tina's blush appeared about the same — permanent.

"Looks like you had a good night, Frank," Jeff tried to say oh so innocently. There was a chuckle from Margaret and Frank. The blush on Tina's face seemed to deepen. Jeff, knowing Frank had taken another mate, added seriously, "Welcome home, Tina."

Apparently Frank and Margaret had talked to Tina about the significance of Frank taking her last night, since tears sparkled her eyes almost instantly. She quickly got up and hugged Jeff. "Thank you, Prime."

When did calling me "Prime" start? Jeff wondered, And who started it?

"Jeff," he said, hugging her back.

"Yes, Prime," she said, with a grin, then after kissing him on the cheek, she hurried back to her seat, her face more flushed than it was before, if possible.

ATLANTA GEORGIA

Grigsby the ASAC, and Whatley the SAC sat talking as they ate breakfast in a small restaurant. The SAC split a biscuit and put a dollop of butter in the center. "You look a bit better this morning," he said with a grin. "It's amazing what a few hours sleep will do."

Grigsby took a sip of coffee and looked over the rim of his cup. "I think someone else I know is looking a bit better today, too" he said, chuckling, "but what does your wife say about your working so early on a Sunday morning?"

Whatley opened a packet of jelly and added it to the center of the biscuit. "Well, now that the last of our kids is out of the house and in college, she likes to sleep late on Sunday."

"In other words, she doesn't know you're gone."

"Yep. I left her a note, though."

"Chicken shit."

"You bet. Dodged the argument about my working this morning."

Both men chuckled, then concentrated on their breakfast for a time. "So how's our guy this morning?" Whatley asked.

Grigsby hesitated. "I think he's better. I'm going over there as soon as we eat. I talked to the charge nurse on the phone a few minutes ago. She said he had some major problems late last night, but he's better now. Whatever that means. I was going to check on him before the night shift nurse got off, but I just couldn't wake..."

"Don't sweat it. I think I died when I hit that bed last night, too."

Grigsby took a bite of his breakfast ham. "Damn, that's good. This place has the best breakfast in town." Then after a moment, he continued, "I was really impressed with that night shift nurse. She said she was not going to let Hanes die, and somehow ... I believe her."

"Is the computer system back up, yet?"

The ASAC waited as the waitress topped up their coffee cups. As she walked away, "Yeah. I checked as soon as I got out of bed. It's working again."

"Same problem as last time?"

"Yeah, I think so. Something about a software update that didn't go right. Anyway, we were finally able to run the prints. Those two guys were what we thought. Just small-time criminals from this area. And just as you suspected, we didn't get a hit on the foreign guy. He's still a total unknown. The guy who got his brains splattered is Clifford Stewart," Grigsby said, having put down his fork to check his small notebook. "He lives in the Atlanta metro area."

"And the girl?"

Grigsby almost flinched. "Her prints aren't in the system."

Whatley, the SAC, paused with a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. "What the fuck is new? Same old story, probably; she didn't come to school the day they did the prints, and no one bothered to follow up on it. Has she said anything yet?"

"I called DHR this morning, but I got the runaround. All he could tell me was the hospital had released the girl, but the director of DHR and some judge placed the girl somewhere, but the way he talked, it wasn't a foster home, or at least not one of the regular ones."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Whatley said as he paused to look up from his breakfast.

"It's just my interpretation, I guess. He seemed to try to avoid telling me exactly where the girl is, and when I asked if she were in a foster home, he hesitated a moment, then said yes."

"You need to get over there..."

"I'm supposed to meet the director of DHR at eleven."

"And Stewart? The guy with the back of his head blown off?"

"I have people talking to his neighbors as we speak. His house is locked up tight and there aren't any vehicles in the driveway. I'll have a warrant shortly so we can force entry."

"Tell that fucker at DHR not to play games with us. We need to talk to that girl. We have an agent hanging at the point of death. Even if he does live, he practically bled out, which could cause him to never fully recover mentally or physically. That girl knows what happened, and we need to know."

"I'll find out where she is, one way or the other."

The SAC took one last sip of coffee, picked up his check, dropped his paper napkin on the table and stood. "I have an errand to run, then I'm going to take my wife to church. After that, I'll visit Hanes."

"The charge nurse said he was still unconscious."

"Yeah, I know, but if I were in that hospital all shot up, I would want the guy in charge to care enough to come visit." Suddenly the SAC sat back down. "Shit, I almost forgot to ask about your divorce. Did you talk her out of it?"

The ASAC puffed out a breath. "Nah. She met me at the lawyer's office to sign the papers. Said she still loved me, but wasn't going to be married to someone who was 'married to his job.' And that last was a quote. She knew where I worked when we got married. Hell, she even thought the job was 'sexy' to begin with. But now she wants someone who works a nine to five job and is never out of town, or who spends nights or weekends running stakeouts, or supervising them, or filling in for someone who is off sick ... Well, you know the drill. She's also hung up on worrying that the next phone call will be someone telling her I was hurt or worse."

"Think she'll change her mind before the divorce becomes final?" the SAC quietly asked.

"She won't talk to me, and she says if she gets a call from me, or gets followed home, she is going to file a complaint about harassment. You can't imagine how that makes me feel."

"Does she..." the SAC started to ask, but thought better of it and stopped.

"If you're asking if she has a boyfriend, I have no idea. First I knew anything was wrong was when she left a note on the table. She had apparently taken the day off from work and moved her stuff out, plus our big TV that I spent all that money on a couple of months ago. At least she didn't have me served with divorce papers at work. Just as I finished reading her note, a process server knocked on the door."

"How long were you married? About three years, wasn't it?"

"Almost four. Time flies."

There was a moment's hesitation as the SAC wondered what to say, then, "Don't forget about dinner tonight. And don't be too upset if Dana has someone there that just happens to be single. You know how women are."

The ASAC chuckled, "Well, I thought I did. Turns out I didn't have a fucking clue."

The SAC stood again. "Six O'clock. Come hungry."

-------

The ASAC had given the agent who had been sitting in Agent Hanes' ICU room a break. Grigsby stopped to take a second look at the nurse who was standing beside Hanes' bed.

"Yeah, we're sisters," she chuckled. "Lots of people say we could be twins."

"I'm..."

"Agent Grigsby," Bobbie said, smiling. "Sandra told me you would probably be here today. From her description of you, you must have gotten some sleep."

Grigsby chuckled. "Did I look that bad?" Before she could answer, the ASAC went on, "How's Agent Hanes?"

"Let's step outside the room," Bobbie said.

When they were just outside, she pulled the sliding glass door closed. Then still talking quietly said, "We almost lost him last night. I know the doctors will take the credit, but Sandra saved him. We made a pact about keeping him alive, you know. Don't ask me why; Sandra just took a liking to him, and ... so did I. But as is sometimes the case, a patient seems to have to get worse to get better, and there are times when a patient seems to get a little better just before they die. They coded him last night, but Sandra got him back. But after his low point, he seemed to rally and steadily get better."

"How long before he wakes up?"

"I said we made a pact to keep him alive. I didn't say I had a direct line to God. I have no idea..."

"So guess. I'm not going to hold you to it."

Bobbie sighed. "If I guess and the doctors hear about it, I'll be in trouble."

"Not if they don't know it. I promise you they will never know from me."

"Well, all I can tell you is what I've personally seen. But I would guess that if he doesn't wake up in the next twenty-four hours, he might never, or if he does he stands a good chance of having brain damage. He was essentially without blood when he came in. He certainly isn't a vegetable, though. There is brain activity — a lot of it. And that's good. His stats are better this morning. For what it's worth, Sandra and I both think he'll wake today or tonight."

"What can I do?"

Bobbie was sliding the door back open. "Sit and talk to him. Give his mind something to do."

Grigsby did.



-------

Chapter 99

WINTER PARK, SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 20

Dessie and Phillip, Selina's parents, had spent the night with their "friends" Dane and Lacy. The two couples were now walking from the attached restaurant at the ski lodge back to the suite. Last night was the first time the four had gotten together since Dane and Lacy had left the country two years ago. The job done (Dane was a structural engineer), the two had returned home to Saint Louis. Lacy had called Dessie to let her know they were home. While they were talking, Dessie had mentioned that she and Phillip were going to Winter Park for a wedding and would probably do a little skiing while they were there. While the women were talking on the phone, Phillip had walked in, realized who Dessie was talking to, picked up another phone and gotten into the conversation.

Eventually, they had agreed to meet in Winter Park. After they had hung up, Dessie had grinned at Phillip, "Well?"

"What?" he had answered, frowning.

"Don't play coy with me. You want some more of that, don't you?"

Phillip frowned again. "Yeah. Yeah ... I guess I do, but I just can't get into Dane. He's a pompous ass. All he wants to do is brag about some expensive project he's just built, or some shit like that. He acts like other people's money is his own. I could buy and sell the bastard with my pocket change. He's a prick. How in the hell can you like him with his attitude?"

Dessie had walked over and hugged her husband. "Who says I like him? If you really don't want to see them, I'll call and cancel. As to what I see in him, the guy knows how to use his tongue..."

"And his dick, I guess," Phillip snapped.

" ... and his dick," Dessie completed. "But he's nothing special; he's just ... different. Your call. Do I get her back on the phone or not?" Dessie said as she stood on tiptoe to kiss Phillip lightly on the lips. "And remember, you said that Lacy got off on your sucking her nipples. Also, I seem to remember your talking about how hot her pussy felt. If you get strange pussy, then I get strange cock."

"Don't turn this shit around. You were the one who started it..." he groused.

" ... And other than that one time you walked in and caught me fucking what's-his-face, I have never fucked anyone behind your back. And ... I knew you would come into that bedroom and catch us," she lied, "so that really wasn't cheating, either. Besides," she grinned, capping her hand over his groin to feel his half-erect cock, "I think you've already made up your mind."

Remembering the conversation, Dessie smirked as they returned from breakfast at the ski lodge restaurant. Phillip walked with Lacy, holding her hand as Dessie thought about her husband being jealous of anyone she fucked. Their son had called a little while ago to say he was already on the ski slopes, so they didn't have to be as careful in public at the moment. She had been lucky when all this started. If Margie hadn't had the presence of mind to jump up and stick a titty in Phillip's mouth, Dessie would probably be divorced now. They thought Phillip had been passed out drunk, but instead, he walked into the bedroom just after they got started. Phillip had his cell in his hand and was raising it up to take pictures of his cheating wife when Margie grabbed it away from him, tossed it on the bed, pulled Phillip's head down and stuck a nipple in his mouth. Phillip never could think with his dick hard,  Dessie mused. After that, she made sure he had a pretty woman to fuck before she got a dick stuffed up her pussy.

Making herself horny with her memories, Dessie reached over and took Dane's hand, squeezing it. "Want to go another round when we get back to the suite? My pussy would like some more sperm," she teased.

Out of the corner of her eye, Dessie could see Phillip frown. Dessie coughed to cover the snigger that almost escaped. Phillip would be pissed again while Dane was fucking her, but later when they were alone, Phillip would fuck her senseless. We fuck more than a couple half our ages. Besides, thanks to that brilliant doctor, I look thirty, plus my tits look good — and natural. That's what my parent's money was for — I could surprise Phil by not having to use his, and it sure as hell has made life more fun.

As they stepped into the suite, Dane, now walking behind Dessie, rubbed her ass, then pulled her to him as he kissed her neck. She could feel his erection pushing against her butt. Nibbling on her ear, Dane put his arms around her to firmly grasp her breasts. Phillip glared at her when she moaned, but he grabbed Lacy's hand and pulled her toward the bedroom.

"He doesn't like me much," Dane whispered into Dessie's ear.

She turned in his arms, grabbed him by the neck and glued her mouth to his. After a moment, she pulled back and said, "He gets jealous, but not jealous enough to pass up fucking Lacy. Don't make the mistake of pushing him, though. I'm certain he could beat your ass to a pulp. He likes Lacy's pussy, but not enough to put up with any shit from you." As Dane frowned, she grabbed his hand and quickly continued, "Now come on. Let's hurry to the bedroom before they get started. I want to see him push his cock into her."

A moment later as they started into the bedroom, Dane said, "I tried to get a room with two beds, but all they had available was this single suite with a king-sized bed."

"It's big enough for the four of us, and I loved sleeping between you and my husband last night — well, the part of last night that we actually did sleep."

Dane chuckled and pulled her to him as soon as they walked into the room. Phillip already had Lacy's top and bra off. He pushed her down on the bed, then quickly dropped his pants and shorts, his dick already standing up as Lacy stripped off her pants and thong.

Dessie wanted Dane to eat her pussy, and knowing how Dane felt about licking a pussy that had come in it, even though it was his own come, she had washed her groin and pussy thoroughly in the shower. She didn't have a douche with her, though, and hadn't wanted to go back to their suite early this morning to get one, knowing that their son would be there.

Dessie began stripping her clothes off as she looked from her husband to Dane, then back. Phillip had Lacy on her back with her legs on his shoulders. He pushed forward, rotating her until she was almost into a ball. Lining his cock up, he rammed in, eliciting a grunt from Dane's wife, and a sigh from Dessie.

Dessie, now nude, flopped down on the bed beside Lacy. Spreading her legs, Dessie toyed with her clit as Dane moved between her legs, his cock sticking straight out in front of him. "No, Baby," she tried to admonish Dane. "Eat me first."

"I don't eat pussy with come in it. You know that. You didn't douche this morning."

"Yeah, but I didn't bring any with me and I didn't want to go get it early this morning with our son still in the suite. I couldn't risk his seeing the douche. He's seventeen and would figure out what we have been doing. I washed good in the shower, though, and even soaped my fingers up and pushed them inside me. There won't be any semen left."

"Bullshit," Dane said as he knelt between Dessie's legs, his cock in hand. "No matter how clean the outside is, your pussy has sperm in it. I got my rocks off in there three times last night. No way you could get that out of you without a douche. When I start sucking and licking on your pussy, some of that sperm will come out."

Before Dessie could argue anymore, Dane lined his cock up and rammed forward. Dessie hissed in a breath. "Oh, shit. Go easy. I'm tender this morning." He's pissed at Phillip for ramming into Lacy, so he did me the same way.

Dane grabbed a breast with his left hand and the back of Dessie's neck with the other, then set a rapid pace as he slammed into her.

Phillip, not to be outdone, continued to ram into Lacy. The sound of flesh hitting flesh continued as both men strived to outfuck the other. Dessie grinned, knowing what was happening. She saw her husband look over at her breasts as they bounced on her chest in time with Dane's thrusts.

Both men had taken Viagra this morning, as well as last night; neither admitting that he had done so, of course.

Dessie turned her head to look at the woman lying beside her. I'll bet those tits aren't hers,  Dessie thought. They look like two cantaloupes sitting on her chest. They jiggle, but don't bounce at all. Mine bounce and sway just like the real thing. I paid for the best. She went cheap. But no matter, Phillip likes them, and I get strange cock fucked up me because he does.

Dane's thrusts were shortening and speeding up. I can feel his cock throbbing. His strokes are getting faster. Dessie reached over and lightly touched her husband's shoulder. "Pump her full, Baby," she whispered. "Pump her full while Dane squirts his sperm into my pussy."

Dessie knew that would trip her husband's switch. A few strokes later, Phillip roared as he short-stroked a couple of times, drew all the way back, slammed forward and held, grunting as if he were trying to push Lacy's ass through the bed.

Dane grabbed Dessie's legs and pushed them back to her breasts. A few short strokes and he bellowed out as Dessie squealed when she felt Dane's wet warmth squirt against her womb. Her orgasm went through the roof, her legs kicking, as she watched her husband twitch as his cock shot out the last of his semen into Lacy's pussy.

Dessie wiggled her hips, rubbing her clit against Dane's cock as his strength left him and he collapsed onto her, letting go of her legs. After a moment, Dessie pushed at Dane's shoulder, but he refused to move, only wanting to continue to enjoy the feeling of his cock softening in Dessie's semen-filled pussy.

"Oh, fuck," Phillip sighed as he rolled off Lacy, settling beside her to wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

"Couldn't have chosen better words myself," Dane laughed as he pulled his wilted cock out of Dessie. She quickly capped her hand over her pussy to keep the come from spilling out.

Lacy didn't bother, but just lay there with Phillip's semen running down the crack of her ass to drip slowly onto the bed, then, "That's it for a while, guys. My pussy is sore."

"Mine, too," Dessie said, "but it was fun."

Dane got up and put his pants on. "I'm going to put on a pot of coffee. We had some left from last night, didn't we?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Lacy said as she absently rubbed circles around her clit with her index finger, occasionally sliding the finger into her pussy to wet it with semen, then rubbing her clit with Phillip's seed. "I think there are several packs on the shelf next to the coffee maker."

Eventually they all got up, showered and dressed. Now in the living room, Dane sat in a comfortable chair with Dessie on his lap. Phillip and Lacy sat snuggled on the couch. All were sipping their coffee.

"You two going to do any skiing today?" Dane asked.

Phillip looked over at Dane. "Yeah, we're going to take at least one trip down the mountain, but we have some business to take care of also, plus we need to get our son back to Denver. His flight leaves at six."

"Business?" Dane asked as Phillip knew he would. "I thought you said you were going to do some skiing and leave all the work behind for a few days."

Phillip had set up the subject so that he and Dessie could brag. "We finally found a suitable school for Selina, and we need to get the paperwork done on that as soon as possible."

"You mean the school is here in Winter Park?" Lacy asked, a slight frown wrinkling her pretty face.

Dessie quickly responded before her husband could, having planned her explanation in advance. "Well, actually, it's on the top of a mountain some miles from here. The school is located in the beautiful building where we attended the wedding — it's called The Matthews Mountain Retreat. They have a very exclusive school there. We had never heard of it, and learned of it because Selina found it and chose it on the spot. We just recently discovered she might be gifted, and Selina proved that she really is gifted by talking the school's director into accepting her before we had any idea what was going on. The school doesn't have a set schedule or hours, and instead presents a total immersion experience for its students. It's taught by a genius who has more degrees than I can remember, and accepts only the gifted."

Phillip, knowing Dane was more impressed by money than social status, told them how much the yearly tuition was, and was rewarded with an aborted flinch from Dane and a gasp from Lacy. Both Phillip and Dessie smiled, enjoying the shocked expressions, knowing that a year's tuition was probably twice what Dane made in the same length of time.

"That cost," Dessie bragged, "covers everything — her board and care costs, which include clothing, entertainment items and travel expenses on field trips — everything. We have to pay two years' tuition up front, and ... it's non-refundable."

Phillip finished the last of his coffee, encouraged Lacy to move, and stood. "Anyway, it's been fun, but we need to go if we're going to have time for a trip down the mountain." As they all stood, Dessie hugged Dane, then Lacy. Phillip shook Dane's hand, squeezing hard enough to send a message, then kissed Lacy, giving her a little tongue and squeezing her ass to add to the message.

Shortly, walking down the hall toward their suite, Dessie chuckled. "Did you see the look on Dane's face when you mentioned the tuition?"

"Yeah, it took the cocky son-of-a-bitch down a notch or two."

"You know we're committed to the school now, don't you? If we back out, Dane and Lacy will think it's because the tuition was too high."

"Yeah, and that bastard will be trying to look down his nose at me again. And speaking of that, you pissed me off when he got his rocks off in you that last time. Was all that kicking and screaming really necessary?"

Dessie knew she was walking on thin ice. Grabbing his arm and pressing her breast against him, "It wasn't Dane who had me excited; it was the way you were pumping your sperm into Lacy. It just turns me on. You know I was looking at you, so don't get pissed and try to make my excitement into something it wasn't. I do like to fuck another man, but not unless you're there fucking his woman. Now are you ready to pump another load up me, or do we wait until after we ski?"

Dessie's pussy was really sore by the time they finally made it to the ski lift, but her husband had what seemed like a perpetual grin on his face.

-------

At breakfast, Jeff had bragged about Selina's suggestion that he put sheet metal screws in his shoes in order to run on the icy road.

Diana looked up, "You put sheet metal screws in your running shoes?"

"Yep. Worked like a charm."

"You ran on the road this morning?" Kayla asked, her food forgotten.

"Yeah."

"How far?"

I don't like the sound of her voice. Her face looks like there are storm clouds on the horizon. What in the fuck did I do? "Uh, ten down and ten back."

"You ran twenty miles on the open road without telling me?" Kayla asked/told Jeff, her voice brittle.

There was beginning to be thunder along with the storm clouds. I do not understand women.

"You know my job is to protect you. Why didn't you wake me?" she got out past clenched teeth as she stood and threw her napkin down beside her plate.

"Baby, I..." Jeff said before Kayla stormed out of the kitchen with a suspicious sparkle in her eyes that could very well be moisture.

"Oh, shit," Jeff whispered as he stood and turned to go after her.

Dave and Frank had become deeply involved in cutting their pancakes just so; everyone at the table was totally silent. You could have heard the proverbial pin drop.

"Sit, Husband," Diana said as she walked past. "I'll take care of it this time. And you know you should have awakened her."

"I didn't expect to ... Uh, it was a snap decision. We just..."

Arlene and Susan hurried past in Diana's wake, both glaring at Jeff as they did.

Well, shit.

Breakfast was quiet, with none of the four women returning. Jeff finished quickly and hurried to his office. Shortly, he had the General on the satellite cell. After beginning comments, Jeff got to the point. "Sir, I fucked up this morning."

"Fucked up?"

"Yes, Sir. I got this idea — well, actually Selina did..."

"Who's Selina?"

"Uh, a six-year-old genius who is going to be living with us. Anyway, she had an idea about putting short sheet metal screws into the soles of my running shoes so I could get traction to run on the snow and ice. Well, one thing led to another and I wound up running a few miles on the road without waking Kayla, and..."

" ... And she is taking her job seriously," Whitworth supplied.

"I'm in a world of shit."

"I've already been advised of your run and have watched portions of the video. Looks like the screws worked just fine, so why are you calling me?"

"Uh, Sir. Could you, uh ... maybe wait an hour or so and give me a call and ... chew my ass out for failing to advise my personal security, Kayla, that I was going out?"

The General didn't have to laugh that much,  Jeff thought as he held the phone away from his ear. Really, a snicker or two would have sufficed.

-------

Jeff left his office door open and pretended to be busy for the next hour. All of his mates walked by the door at least once, except Diana, Arlene, Susan and Kayla who had remained in their suite.

The General's timing could not have been better. The satellite cell rang just as Laura walked by with a carafe of coffee, supposedly heading back to their suite. Jeff answered on the second ring, then after answering, waited for the warbling sound that meant the two encrypted phones had locked with each other.

The General had a few comments about the weapon emplacements, then, "Colonel, I would like to talk with both you and Lieutenant Fisher."

"Yes, Sir," Jeff responded, glad the General had gone along with his idea to get him (Jeff) out of the doghouse. Picking up the house phone, he punched Intercom and dialed their suite. When Jennie answered, he said, "Please tell Kayla that the General is on the sat phone and wants to talk to her. I'm still in my office," he said automatically, just a second in front of the thought that telling Jennie where he was wasn't necessary, because his mates always knew, anyway, plus most of them had seen him as they walked past his office.

He was embarrassed about having the General call and supposedly chew him out, though. It felt like lying. A barely audible sigh passed his lips as he wished Diana had just let him follow Kayla out of the kitchen and apologize. Kayla magnified her not being with me all out of proportions. I had an escort.

Kayla walked in and her face flushed as she glanced in Jeff's direction, refusing to meet his eyes, though. After closing the door and locking it, she sat in front of his desk.

"She's here, General, and my office is secure."

"Very well, put the phone on speaker."

Jeff pushed the speaker button, then put the phone back on his desk. "We both can hear you now, Sir."

"Lieutenant Fisher?"

"Sir?"

"I assume that you are aware that I receive a briefing each morning from various supervisors. Mainly just an update on what's going on at the base here, and with the advent of the attack at your place, I also receive an update from Lieutenant Mayfield concerning security."

"Uh, yes Sir."

"Incidentally, Lieutenant, I have recently signed a commendation for you concerning your exemplary response to the attack there. Well done, Lieutenant."

Kayla's face flushed, "Thank you, Sir."

The General's voice changed, "That said, I have a couple questions, Lieutenant."

"Sir?"

"When Lieutenant Mayfield briefed me a few minutes ago, the briefing brought a question to mind. I also watched a segment of the security team's recording of recent happenings there. Odd," he said, his voice taking on a fake uncertainty, "I didn't see you when members of the security team, led personally by Lieutenant Mayfield, escorted Colonel Matthews on his twenty-mile run this morning. Might you verbally point out your position during that escort so that I will be better informed?"

Jeff felt a chill go down his back. What is he up to? He was supposed to chew my ass out about not taking Kayla with me, but he's coming down on her.

Kayla tried to wet dry lips, but her mouth was just as dry as her lips. "Uh, Sir. I didn't go with the security detail."

There was a hesitation from the General, then, "Odd, Lieutenant, that you would repeatedly lay your life on the line during the attack, then not bother to go with the Colonel as he ran ten miles away from a secure position."

"Uh, Sir. It wasn't Lieutenant Fisher's fault. I..." Jeff tried to interrupt.

But the General continued, "Lieutenant, I sent you with the girls that Colonel Matthews rescued. I was certainly aware of the Colonel's wives, and I knew that those three girls would be well taken care of after they got settled in. But you were known to them and your presence would help during the transition. But I also told you that your primary mission was to protect Colonel Matthews. A last line of defense. You performed exemplarily during the attack, and I assume you were sleeping in the same bed as the Colonel this morning, yet you didn't bother to get up when he left on his exercise run. Is my assumption correct, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sir," she responded, her voice filled with dread as she looked desperately at Jeff.

"No, Sir," Jeff interrupted. "You are not totally correct."

"Colonel?"

"I didn't get up..." Kayla started before Jeff cut her off.

"I meant to run on the treadmill here in the building, but I put some sheet metal screws in the soles of my running shoes to help with the snow and ice, then decided to try the shoes out on the road. I had eased out of bed trying not to wake my mates. Kayla had no idea that I was up."

Kayla broke in with, "It's still my responsibility. I should have been more alert."

"Sir, I was quiet solely for the purpose of getting out of bed without waking anyone. This is my fault — entirely my fault."

"Sir, it's still..." Kayla tried.

"At ease, Lieutenant. I think I have gotten to the bottom of the problem. The Colonel and I will speak of this."

"But Sir..."

"Dismissed, Lieutenant. You did nothing wrong."

Kayla came to her feet and snapped to attention, then about-faced and left the office, closing the door behind her.

"Shit, Sir," Jeff breathed. "That was a little more realistic than I expected."

The General's voice continued in the same tone as before. "I was dead serious, Colonel. You deliberately acted in a manner to forestall Lieutenant Fisher's performance of her duties. Fisher is the ultimate in personal security, not only because of her abilities, but she is in love with her Prime. She would literally give her life to save yours. Whether you like that or not, it is a fact. A fact that I hope I never have to exploit, but still, it remains. One of my duties is to protect the only person on the face of this Earth who my starship will allow to command her.

"And speaking of that, just what do you think the Ship would do if you should be killed? I strongly suspect that she remains here on the base because you told it — her — to. Am I right, Colonel? I also suspect that she's here to guard the portal, again because you have ordered her to. If you die, what would keep her here? My belief is that nothing would keep her here."

The General's voiced changed to a normal conversational tone as he continued, "I am spending resources and personnel to keep you safe, Colonel. A lot of resources, and more personnel than you realize. I expect your cooperation. I don't expect you to remain at the retreat as a virtual prisoner, although that would certainly make my life easier, but I do expect you to assist my personnel in keeping your ass alive. My blocks were circumvented once; there might very well be other people, now or in the future who would try to get control of Little One, or you. Please conduct yourself accordingly."

"Sir, I apologize."

The General's voice changed. "Accepted. A thing of the past, now."

"Uh, General, I'm worried about Kayla — Lieutenant Fisher. She has a lot of innate talent, but little true combat training, but if she receives it, I won't have a logical reason for refusing to bring her with me on future missions. And ... I don't want her with me. I love her. She's one of my mates, and has agreed to marry me. I can't take a mate or a wife on a mission."

"That's simple, Colonel. We don't allow kin to be assigned to the same team. Your mate fits into that category quite well."

"I know. I know, but you just made that excuse more or less redundant when you were talking to her. She isn't going to let me out of her sight now."

"Oh, shit," the General said.

"Yeah, about that," Jeff agreed. Then, "I'm going to assign her a battle helmet. I can have Lieutenant Mayfield train her with it."

"You've trained a lot of people. Why not yourself for the training?"

"Ever tried teaching a wife to drive, General?"

"Uh, good point, Colonel. Tell Mayfield to requisition a battle helmet for her on his next supply shipment. It might be better to wait on the rest of her training awhile, though. Mayfield has already submitted plans for a training facility and even an underground firing range similar to the one we have here on the base — smaller, of course. We'll cycle training personnel through to keep the security team up to speed. It will be easy enough to include Lieutenant Fisher in the roster."

The General chuckled, then dripping sarcasm, "Was my ass chewing convincing, Colonel?"

Jeff blew out a breath. "Entirely, Sir. Entirely." There was a moment of silence while each of the men thought, then, "General, what about Selina? Should I use the blocks on her? I doubt that anyone would believe her if she started talking about a little alien, and I suppose most people would think that Little One was just her imaginary friend, but still..."

Jeff didn't tell the General that Selina had already seen Little One. One ass chewing was enough this morning, but Whitworth wondered, anyway.

The General mused aloud, "The techs assure me the blocks are safe for anyone, and they have been used on children before. None that I know of have even noticed they have them. Hmmm. If I remember correctly, the youngest child we've used the blocks on was ten at the time, though. Let me check with my people. You say she's a genius — a real genius, not just a smart kid?"

"Yep, a true genius."

"I'll get back to you. Sure you don't want me to chew on your ass a little more, though?" he snickered.

"Uh, no Sir. That one was quite sufficient."

The General was chuckling as he broke the connection.



-------

Chapter 100

Time to gird my loins and get this over with,  Jeff thought as he strode out of his office and turned toward their suite.

A moment later, he opened the outer door of the suite, then held the door for a troop of women to come out, even the new girls. Most of the women avoided his eyes, but Nicki grinned at him. He didn't know whether that was good or bad. This is the first time I've had any problems with my women at all — well, after we got the Jack problem solved. I guess I did fuck up by not waking Kayla. But I never even thought about her. Heck, if I had thought of her, I would still have let her sleep. It would have made me feel guilty waking her just so I could go run. My .45 goes with me when I'm outside the retreat. I can take care of myself. Crap, I can't get used to everyone trying to protect me. I feel like an invalid or something. Oh, shit, time to eat a little humble pie.

As he entered the bedroom, Diana and Kayla were seated near the big bed, with Arlene and Susan sitting on the bed itself. Each had a cup of coffee in her hand and was conversing quietly. Conversation stopped when they saw him. They didn't greet him, but continued to sip their coffee and sit in silence.

At some sort of silent communication between them, Diana, Arlene and Susan got up and quietly walked out of the room. They're making a mountain out of a molehill. I was protected by four fully-armed troopers, not to mention the electronics... 

Kayla leaned over to put her coffee cup on a nearby table. "Am I a joke to you?" she said in a quiet voice as tears suddenly flowed from her eyes.

"Of course not," Jeff answered as he knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. The tissue in her hand was wet with tears. "I had no intention of hurting you. I just went for a run..."

"You could have been killed and I was not there to protect you. Is that all the faith you have in me, to just get up and leave me here while you run down the road for ten miles, unprotected?"

"Kayla, Baby. I wasn't unprotected. I had an escort. Look, Baby. I had no intention of hurting you or disrespecting you (if that's even a word). It was early and my intent was to run a few miles on that damn treadmill. When Selina came in and caught me with Little One on my shoulders, I was concentrating on the situation. After I introduced her to Little One, I mentioned that I hated to run on the treadmill, and she figured out the reason I wasn't running outside. Anyway, she remarked about the screw thing she had read about on the Internet. We found some sheet metal screws and got the shoes set up. I changed into winter running gear, called security, then tried the shoes out in the parking lot. They seemed to work fine, so I headed out. So help me, I never even thought going back to wake you. I love you. I wanted you to have your rest just like I wanted it for the rest of my wives, too. I don't need much sleep. Kayla, I love you. Please forgive me. I didn't mean to belittle you or your job."

She looked at him for a moment, then, "Make love to me," she whispered.

-------

Later, Jeff, with his arm around Kayla, walked into the kitchen. For some reason that Jeff couldn't quite fathom, Kayla blushed. Why is she blushing? All of us make love practically every night.

Nevertheless, Diana hugged Kayla as Helen turned to Jeff and said, "Our attorney just called and he and his assistant are on the way." As Jeff sat at the end of the table, Helen sat and continued. "He said he had talked with the Albrights' attorney and they had both agreed that the contract reflected what each of us wants. In other words, I will be responsible for Selina for two years, barring Selina deciding to leave the school, or her being removed for just cause. I will also have a medical power of attorney for Selina during that time. If I am not available or for some reason cannot respond, then the power of attorney falls to you."

Selina bounced into the kitchen, stopping to talk with Helen and Jeff. "I just finished conversing with my parents. They said they had talked with you, Doctor Boswell, and had accepted your invitation to come eat lunch with us and sign the school contract."

Selina climbed into Jeff's lap and snuggled in. "I told you they would," she laughed as she hugged him.

Jeff tickled her, suspecting that was the reason she had gotten on his lap. Selina shrieked and tried to tickle him back.

Shortly, Diana, smiling, stood partway down the kitchen watching her husband and Selina. The Queen wondered what Selina would look like as an adult. Her short, bright red hair with its myriad of tight curls set off a pretty face with its barely-visible row of freckles across her nose. The freckles scarcely showed unless she blushed or her face flushed from exertion as it was doing at the moment while she tussled with Jeff. She had the most intensely green eyes Diana had ever seen. Her arms were a little thin, but they fit her thin frame. Diana suspected she was always too busy to overeat.

Selina finally pulled away from Jeff and regained her feet. "I must stop now," she panted, her grin lighting up her face. "The women are preparing lunch and I need to learn how to assist them."

"Sweetie, you don't have to..."

"I must learn. I have acquired a small amount of cooking knowledge from having watched our cook at home, but now it is more than just a passing fancy. I will learn quickly."

With that, Selina turned and headed for the other end of the kitchen, but Diana had heard. She leaned over and whispered something in Whitney's ear, then went on about food preparation.

Whitney touched Selina's arm as she passed. "Want to help us with the salad?"

"Certainly. Please show me what you want me to do," Selina responded.

-------

Lunch over, contract signed, and the check written, Diana, Helen, Jeff and Selina stood in the living room watching the TV as onscreen the Albrights' Escalade made its way down the drive. "Frank should take care of more of his business with a video conference like we just did with the Albrights' attorney," Diana said.

Jeff smiled, "I keep telling him to let Tingle take over more, but I think it's hard for Frank to give over the controls."

Selina suddenly turned and hugged Helen. "I'm officially your student, Doctor Boswell. I would like to express my sincere appreciation for accepting me into your school." Then turning to Jeff and Diana, "And I also wish to say how pleased I am that you allowed me to live in your home. I will endeavor to be a model student, and Mr. Matthews I..."

Jeff snatched her up and sat down with her in his lap. "Why so formal, my little friend? For all practical purposes, you're our daughter now. Although, I suspect your mom and dad will pay us a visit sooner than you expect."

"They will have to return your vehicle, of course, but I also think they will shortly be making travel arrangements for a visit to France. They have some friends they previously visited there and I have overheard my parents discussing them recently. I also suspect the couple is more than just friends, and this visit will be of a longer duration than the previous one."

"That isn't our business, Baby. We're just proud you're with us."

Diana grabbed one of Selina's hands, and Helen grabbed the other. "Come on," Diana said, "let's go weigh and measure you. We'll stop by the kitchen and get a rule, then we'll mark our closet door with your height, weight, and the date. It will be fun to see the marks go higher and higher as you grow."

A few minutes later as they walked into the bedroom, Selina stopped, her eyes growing bigger as she took in the giant bed. "I assume that all of you sleep in this bed?" she said.

"Yes, we do," Diana answered.

"That is a truly enormous bed," Selina said as she pushed her hand down on the mattress to test it.

"I bought it to be bigger than we needed at the time. It will be a while before we have to increase its size again," Diana replied, feeling odd to realize that the child understood far more than her small frame suggested. Jeff and Helen have both said we would not hide anything from her — other than our sex, of course. But she knows we do more than sleep in that bed. I'm uncomfortable with this, but Selina doesn't seem bothered, though.

"Come on. There's a nice facing on the closet door that should show your height and weight well without doing any damage to anything of importance."

Soon, they had Selina stand with her back to the door facing while Helen marked her height with a ruler. "Forty inches exactly," Helen said as she wrote the height in pencil next to the line she had drawn on the wood.

Diana grabbed Selina's hand and led her into the bathroom area. "Now let's get you weighed." Shortly, Helen added Selina's weight, forty-three point six pounds, to the information by the line and the date, October 20, and Selina's age.

"We'll check you now and then as you grow," Diana said.

"My parents never did this," Selina said as she stood looking at the writing on the door facing. "They would consider it defacing the woodwork. Besides, they left my height and weight records to the pediatrician."

"Well, we don't," Diana said.

Selina stood looking around. "I assume that your suite is off limits unless I am invited in?"

Diana aborted what she had started to say, and paused for a second as she remembered her discussion with Jeff. In many ways, Selina is an adult, but in others, she's still a little girl. We certainly don't want her walking in while we're having sex, but I need to be careful about rules and not insult the genius that is hiding in that small body.

"Perhaps it would be better if you called on the intercom first. We'll always say yes, but on occasion we might ask you to wait a few minutes. Would that be satisfactory?"

"I am familiar with the various sex acts, since I have watched a number of videos on the Internet, but I cannot see what all the fervor is about. I am also cognizant that my perspective on the matter will most probably change when I reach pubescence. Nevertheless, I will certainly respect your privacy and will ask for permission before entering."

Diana couldn't help herself. "Sweety, generally those so-called sex acts that you see on the Internet are staged. Most of the people are actors — poor ones — and the ones who aren't, constitute, at best, a poor representation of the act of making love. I don't feel comfortable in speaking about sex with you because of your age, but please, never think that what we are doing when we ask you to wait before entering is what you see on the net. We make love, not just sex. We love Jeff, and he loves us. But that sentence still does not convey the intensity of our love for each other. He is a Prime, and we are his mates. The love we share is so strong it is almost a tangible thing."

"I do not have the hormones that would allow my body to respond, but it is still readily evident that he is a superb specimen of ... manhood."

Diana, a helpless expression on her face, looked over at Helen for guidance, but Doctor Boswell seemed amused, barely able to keep from laughing as she remembered her own childhood and the frustrations her parents had undergone while raising a genius. Diana cleared her throat as Selina stood looking up at her. "I ... I'm ... uncomfortable with this topic of conversation," she said again.

"Why? We are having a very interesting conversation? I am aware that the videos I have watched do not accurately portray the act of love, and do little justice in representing the sex act, for that matter. I am aware that there is sex, and I'm also aware there is sex with the added attraction of love. I can feel love. I feel it for my parents and my brother. Also, I have a similar feeling of closeness for Mr. Matthews and the others of you. I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of my hormones so that I might engage in this act of love."

Helen dropped to her knees to be closer to Selina's height. "Selina, although you can feel love now, it is not the love that you will feel when you reach puberty and beyond. The feeling is intense when the right persons are involved. And believe me, intense is a weak word, indeed, when we refer to the way we feel toward our husband, as well as our sister-wives. Now let's change the subject before Diana's face catches fire."

"Okay," Selina said, grabbing Diana around the lower part of her waist and hugging her. "I did not mean to embarrass you." Giggling, she ran out of the room, suddenly the epitome of a six-year-old again.

"Oh boy," Diana said with a sigh as she extended her hand to help a chuckling Helen to her feet. "I think our life is going to be interesting."

ATLANTA GEORGIA

Shortly after four in the afternoon, the ASAC was headed home when his cell rang. Having received several calls from the on-duty agent in Hanes' room, Grigsby recognized the number, "Grigsby."

"The nurse wants to talk to you," the agent said without preamble as he handed his cell to her.

"This is Sandra, the night shift nurse." Briefly Grigsby wondered why she was there in the afternoon, but he focused on her next words, "You said to call you if Agent Hanes woke. Bobbie told me that he has had two instances earlier today when he opened his eyes and looked around, but never really regained full consciousness. His stats are up and he's moving around a little. We both think he'll wake soon, so if you want to be here..."

"You bet. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Snapping his phone closed, he waited for a break in traffic, then made a "U" turn. Still talking aloud even though he was alone in the vehicle, he said, "Come on, Hanes. You made it through the gunfight, now it's time to make it the rest of the way." Then silently, Doc said there might be brain damage. Come on, show him what you've got, Hanes. We need to know what happened in that motel room.

He opened the phone again and hit speed dial two. The SAC, recognizing the number, answered with, "Don't tell me you aren't going to make it for dinner..."

"The nurse thinks Hanes is about to wake. I'm on my way to the hospital."

Whatley sighed. "You know that I'm going to be glared at all through dinner if you don't make it?"

"It won't be your fault," Grigsby reasoned.

"No, but I'll be the one handy to get pissed at." Then his voice changing, "Let me know when he wakes up. I'll be right there."

"One of the doctors told me there could be mental problems, memory loss, anything. He was as near death as you can get and survive at all. He might not be the same person."

"Yeah, I know, but we'll hope for the best. What about the girl?"

"I just left Judge Carver's home. Like I told you earlier, he decided to take the girl home with him instead of putting her into the system. He and his wife have done it before when there were unusual circumstances. I take it from what the judge said that the psychologist thought she would be better off in a real home environment, and not just one of the so-called foster homes. That's a no-brainer for sure. So, anyway, I got to see her ... for what it was worth.

"The judge and his wife say that she just sits and stares, like she really isn't there mentally. She eats when they tell her to, and after they had shown her where the bathroom was, she uses that by herself, but that's about all she does on her own. DHR had her in a sweat suit that was too big for her, but the judge's wife bought her a couple of outfits. The outfit she had on when the medics sent her to the hospital was soaked with blood, and had chunks of brain matter adhering to it. The lab has her clothes now, and they say it has several blood types on it, none of which are hers.

"She's pretty as she can be, and I'd guess her age to be fifteen or so. The judge said he was told that her hair was caked with blood also and was done up in ponytails above her ears. She had on an outfit that the nurse described as too young for her age."

"I assume that you tried to talk to her."

The ASAC chuckled. "Yeah, for a couple of minutes — with the judge's wife glaring at me while she held the girl. Lord only knows what that kid has been through, but you can bet nothing is going to happen to her if the judge's wife has anything to say about it. But the girl hasn't spoken a word — to them or me. Didn't respond to my questions at all.

"I have a team searching Stewart's house, but we're still trying to decipher everything. Looks like he's married, or living with someone, but there is no sign of the wife, or whomever. We were late getting the warrant, so the search has barely started, and it will probably take quite a bit longer before we begin to unravel things."

"All right. Keep me posted. I'll check by the hospital after dinner, unless Hanes wakes before then."

-------

Agent Art Hanes opened his eyes to a blurry whiteness.

"It's all right. You've been sleeping for a while. There is a jell in your eyes to keep them from drying out as you rested. I'll make it better in just a minute."

He felt something soft wiping around his eyes, then someone holding the lids of his eyes open and a few drops of liquid hitting his eyes. Then more gentle wiping. The world gradually took fuzzy shape around him. The light was bright, though, and he blinked rapidly. There was a click and the light directly above his head went out, but there was ample light from other fixtures about the room.

He tried to speak, but there was something in his throat and mouth. He couldn't breathe. Suddenly, the urge to breathe was all-consuming. Panic hit like a tidal wave. Abruptly, air forced its way into his lungs, then did it again a couple of seconds before his body wanted to breathe the next time. He fought to rip out whatever was in his throat, but his hands were secured, and a pain lanced through his shoulder when he tried to move his left arm. He tensed up, but in his weakness, he could barely wiggle his right hand in the soft restrictions.

Finally, his mind focused on the quiet voice as it repeated, "Relax. Let the machine breathe for you. You don't have to breathe. Let the machine do it for you. Relax. Listen to my voice. Look at me. Focus on me."

He could make out a blurry figure in white above him. Where am I? What ... What happened? Why am I here? Why am I so weak? Am I dying?

"Relax," another voice said from his other side. That voice was soft, too, sounding much like the first voice. His thoughts spiraled, becoming even more defused. Are they angels? Am I dead? His mind was sluggish — fuzzy. Why can't I think? Angels talking to me. The world faded away again.

Grigsby stood in the doorway to Hanes' intensive care room as he watched the two nurses working with their patient. Sandra, the night shift nurse had come in a couple hours early to be with Bobby, her sister and day shift nurse. The two nurses, sisters, worked twelve hour shifts, one on days; one on nights. They would normally work three shifts, have a day off, work three more shifts, then have a week off. After that, the cycle would repeat. They also frequently worked extra shifts during their week off.

Bobby had told Grigsby that she and her sister had bought a big, old house that they were "fixing up," thus, they were working all the overtime the hospital would allow, which was considerable. The extra money went into the house.

"He was aware of us that time," Sandra said.

"Yeah, also aware enough to fight the ventilator," Bobby agreed. "I hope he can tolerate it when he fully awakens, so we don't have to paralyze him."

"Yeah, me too," Sandra said.

"So, how long before I can talk to him?" Grigsby said as he stepped back into the room. The words were hardly out of his mouth before he realized he had stepped on his dick.

Two pretty faces turned to glare at him. They didn't say anything, but their matching frowns communicated quite well, anyway. "Sorry," he mumbled.

In unison, both women turned and walked toward the door, motioning to him in identical gestures.

Outside, Sandra slid the door closed. "Sorry," Grigsby said, letting out a heavy sigh. "Right now I have a room full of dead people, an agent that almost died, and a fifteen-year-old girl who just sits and stares — not to mention an investigation that is floundering. Agent Hanes can tell us..."

"'Right now, '" Bobby said, turning his words back at him, "Agent Hanes has to gain strength and learn to breathe on his own."

"Unless I miss my guess," Sandra broke in, "he didn't even realize he was in a hospital. The good thing was he tried to fight the ventilator, which probably means the reflex to breathe is still there. But the doctor will likely leave the ventilator on for a while until your agent is stronger."

"I thought he would wake up..." Grigsby said, then just wound down.

"He did wake up." Bobby agreed. "His body is weak, though. His brain has been starved for oxygen. He was shot three times. He's alive, and he's going to stay that way. And yeah, we know how important it is that you need to talk to him, but it's not going to happen for a while — if ever. You realize, of course, that his mental abilities could be compromised, even when his body recovers. We'll continue to give him care and stimulus." The two sisters looked at each other after seeing the expression on the ASAC's face, then, "We think he'll come back all the way, but ... it will take time. And ... he's facing at least two more surgeries to fix his hip and shoulder."

-------

Grigsby backed from the parking space and started out of the deck as he pressed speed dial number two. With sadness, he realized he would have to reprogram the first speed dial since he no longer had a wife, well, for all practical purposes, anyway. The paperwork was started and he didn't even know where she was living — or who she was living with, for that matter.

He glanced at his watch: six thirty. He had missed dinner with his boss. Grigsby hoped he hadn't gotten his boss in trouble with his wife.

"Talk to me," Whatley answered the phone.

"He came to for a couple of minutes, but didn't seem to be with it. He understood the nurses enough to stop fighting the ventilator, though. They have high hopes for him, but he's scary weak."

"Hell yes, he's weak. He's been shot three times and almost bled out. When do you think he'll be strong enough for you to talk to him?"

"The nurses don't know. They think he'll recover, but they cautioned me that he might ... uh, not be all the way there mentally when he does get well physically."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah."

After a slight hesitation, "Are you on the way? We're holding dinner."

"Uh, I can be if you still want me. Uh, is there a single woman there, by any chance?"

"Yeah, you're right about that one," Whatley replied, obviously being overheard by his wife and/or the other woman.

"I won't leave you hanging, Boss. I'm on my way," Grigsby sighed. "But I am not in the mood for small talk with a new woman at the present time. As a matter of fact, you could say I'm not pleased with the fairer sex at all right now, and that's got to be the understatement of all time. I have just received the fucking of my life." Then with a change of voice, "ETA about twenty minutes. I'll try to behave," he sighed.

Whatley chuckled and hung up.



-------

Chapter 101

The helicopter came in with Captain Madison, Jill and Kathy on board. Realizing the three were burdened down with packages, Jeff met them in the hallway by the back door and grinned at the pilot. "Frank said you had to wait out a storm."

Jill and Kathy spoke to Jeff and hugged him, then pulling their luggage plus a little cart each — the carts loaded with shopping bags — they headed on down the hall. Jeff slapped Bill on the back, grabbed some of the packages he was laden with, and the two turned to follow the others. "Well, you know what they say about old pilots," Bill laughed.

"Yep," Jeff chuckled. "There are old pilots, and bold pilots, but no old, bold pilots."

"There was no hurry, so no reason to take the risk, and the ride would have been bumpy at best, anyway. The big boys were still flying, but what the heck, the girls wanted to go shopping, so we did. While we were out, I treated them to a very nice restaurant, and they, uh, showed me their appreciation when we got back to the plane."

"How's Jill doing?" Jeff quietly asked.

Bill knew that Jeff wasn't referring to her health. "To be truthful, she scared me a little when she wanted to look so young — and the deal with having a hymen again ... But she was trying to make it up to me for the way she had treated me. I kept telling her that I now know she was hypnotized and hadn't meant the things she had said and done to me, but she's ... different. Oh, not much. She's still Jill, but she seems to have lost some of her aggressiveness ... or maybe assertiveness might be a better word."

One of Bill's packages slipped, and Jeff flashed a hand out to grab it. "Shit, how do you do that?" Bill laughed as he barely managed to hang onto the other packages he was carrying.

Jeff laughed and tucked the package under his arm. "Did they leave anything in the stores?"

"Not much."

"Sure you don't want me to take some more of those?"

Bill didn't answer directly, but smiled at Jeff, then, "She's trying too hard. I don't know what to do. At first, I just made gentle love to her after all she had been through. But back before that asshole hypnotized her and kidnapped her, she was ... What the hell, no better way to say it. We enjoyed sex. We fucked a lot, not just making love, but fucked all over the house. When I was home, as soon as Linda was out of the house, Jill would strip practically by the time the door closed. She'll do anything I ask now, also, and participate in anything I start, but it's like ... she's always trying to figure out what I want and then ... oh, I don't know ... work too hard to please me. After she came back, she kept apologizing until I finally fussed at her and told her to stop."

As they started into Bill's suite, they met the women coming back out. "Just put the stuff on the bed. We'll sort it out later," Kathy said. "Jill and I are going to help with dinner."

Jill pulled Bill's head down, tiptoed and kissed him gently on the lips, then ran to catch up with Kathy.

The men walked on through the sitting room and into the bedroom. As they tossed their packages onto the bed, "She seems fine," Jeff mentioned.

"She is. And I was glad when she asked you to have Little One return her apparent age to something like twenty or twenty-one instead of the sixteen she looked. At least she doesn't have to wear that makeup that Helen gave her to make her look a little older. But..."

"Who's going to be your Queen?" Jeff asked, startling Bill.

"You really think one of them will be a Queen? I mean, they get along fine as it is." But Bill hesitated, then, "Jill defers to Kathy. Oh, it's only noticeable if we're alone, and even then, it isn't blatant. But it's there. Kathy is far younger, though, despite what Jill looks like. I would have thought..."

"Maybe neither is ready yet," Jeff offered. "Maybe neither of them wants the job. Little One assures me there will be a Queen though. It's the natural scheme of things according to her — well, if I'm interpreting her correctly, that is."

"So, what do I do, Prime?" The question had been half serious, half jest, but Bill fell silent, realizing that he had meant it. "I want my wife back. We got the divorce process stopped, but again, Jill was doing what I wanted, not necessarily what she wanted. But I won't let that bastard win, dead or not, and the divorce was what he wanted. I never wanted it."

"And Kathy?" Jeff asked as they stopped and stood looking at each other.

"Uh, well, Kathy says the legal marriage should be with Jill, otherwise, in a way, Ingles still wins."

"Kathy is a smart little cookie."

"Yeah, she is, but so is Jill. As far as I'm concerned, the only marriages that count are the ones you and your Queen performed for us."

"They both love you, and you them. I reckon it will work out; just love both of them."

"Reckon?" Bill laughed. "Been to that website again?"

"I reckon so," Jeff said, trying to use what he thought was a country accent. The two Alphas chuckled, then walked toward the living room in search of Dave and Frank.

KEY WEST, FLORIDA

Having decided to go on to Key West before picking up Susan's things in Miami, Fred maneuvered the big RV and its tow into the side lot of the hotel. "Wow," Jessica said from the passenger seat as she stared past the hotel at the green waters of the Gulf. "This place is beautiful ... and expensive. Are you sure we can afford this," she finished, worried.

Fred chuckled as he checked his mirrors and the backup camera to make sure he was positioned properly in one of the big parking spaces set aside for RVs. Shutting the engine down, he turned his seat to face Jessica. "I have the money, Kiddo, but this is the reason Jeff called this morning. He said I was to surprise you guys with a stay in an expensive hotel. He and Diana have already reserved a suite for us here. He again told me that he had more money now than he had right after selling his patents. He laughed and said he needed some help spending it."

"I don't know him, but he and Diana must be beyond nice," Audrey said.

"His other women as well," Carla said. "I still have the card he forced on me," Carla continued, "and Diana was adamant that we use it. She said that it was orders from our Prime. Jeff was laughing in the background, but there was no doubt that Diana was serious about us using the card."

"We'll use the card if we have to," Fred said, "Jeff and Diana's gift to us. I'll settle with Jeff when we get back. But I still have plenty of my own in the bank. So right now, we're going to check into this place and act like we're rich. Hell, it won't be a problem for me. I am rich; rich in the most beautiful women in the world." That earned him a round of kisses.

They had just stopped outside the door of the RV as Fred locked up. A bellhop pushed a luggage carrier over to them. "Are you the Wilson group?"

"Uh, yes," Fred answered.

"Just go on in the front," the bellhop said, nodding toward the entrance. "Your keys are ready at the desk and someone will escort you to the bridal suite. You are preregistered. I'll be up shortly with your luggage," he finished even as he was loading the carrier.

"I'll bet Diana did this," Brenda quietly said as soon as they were out of earshot. "You can bet she and Jeff paid extra for this. I've never heard of a hotel that would meet you in the parking lot before you have even checked in." She turned to the other women, "And Fred and I have been in some pretty swanky places when we ... uh, when we were young," she tried to cover, still upholding her agreement to keep secret the things she and Fred had done for the government early in their lives.

"Bridal suite?" Fred quietly said, diverting the subject. "I wonder if they have a bed big enough for all of us?"

They did, and the Jacuzzi was easily big enough, also. Corner of the building, top floor, with a view that was breathtaking, the bridal suite was enormous, with rich tapestries, thick carpets, swank furniture and an enormous round bed. The bed wasn't as big as Jeff's, but they all fit in it and there was plenty of room left over.

The bellhop refused the big tip left in his hand as he and Fred shook, though. "Already taken care of, Sir," the bellhop said, discreetly handing the money back. "Management asked me to relay to you that everything has already been taken care of: meals, drinks, amenities, tips — everything."

"Jeff and I are going to have to have a serious conversation when we get home," Fred mumbled as the door closed behind the two bellhops.

"They didn't even seem to blink at the front desk," Carla said.

"Maybe it isn't all that unusual for a man to check in with multiple women," Fred wondered aloud.

"Whatever it is, I love this suite," Carla said over her shoulder as she hurried over to the window with the others.

"Look how green the water is," Audrey said as Fred came up behind her. "It changes to blue way out, though."

Jessica spun around to Fred, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm, "Thank you for bringing us here. I've always wanted to come to Key West, and that seven-mile bridge was awesome. Can we go for a swim now?" she added in the same breath.

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Fred's neck, pulling him down to her as she stood on tiptoes and glued her mouth to his, her tongue seeking entrance.

Fred groaned as his cock tried to imitate a steel bar. Jessica felt it and ground her mound against him, then dropping to her knees, she expertly worked his belt loose, and had his jeans and shorts down a few seconds later. She licked the head of his cock as she looked up at him, then, "Can't have you going out there with a hard-on with all those sexy women in bikinis. We don't want our man to hurt."

Gently cradling his balls in one hand and holding the base of his cock with the other hand, she slid her mouth over the large head, pushing down until his dick hit her gag reflex. Then setting up a slow back and forth with her mouth, she sucked as hard as she could. Pulling her mouth off for an instant, she continued to stroke his cock with her hand, "Let it go, Big Man. Don't hold back. I want to take the edge off so you'll pay attention to us on the beach, rather than all that fresh pussy wandering around out there."

Carla had taken her top off as soon as she realized what her daughter was doing. She took Fred's hands and put them on her breasts, then kissed him for a moment. "Let it go, My Love. You can service us tonight."

"Those things are beautiful," Fred managed to get out, his hands automatically stroking Carla's breasts, with an occasional nipple tweak.

"Come for us," Carla whispered, as she pressed her mouth against his.

Jessica's sped up her hand as she stroked her man while continuing to suck. Fred pulled his mouth back from Carla's and took a deep breath, then grunted and shivered as his cock pumped semen into Jessica's mouth. Jessica trying to giggle and swallow at the same time caused her mother to laugh aloud.

Carla dropped to her knees and put her mouth close to her daughter's. Jessica quickly turned Fred's cock toward her mother's open mouth. Carla managed to get one squirt, plus a couple dribbles. Fred put his hands on Carla's head as she automatically began to suck hard, but he made a sound and hissed out, "Too sensitive, Baby." He pulled Carla to her feet and kissed her, heedless of the taste of semen on her lips, then kissed Jessica. "Thank you, My Loves," he finished as he hugged mother and daughter; although most people would think they were sisters.

"Might as well step on out of those pants," Brenda said as she helped him with his shirt.

Audrey handed him his bathing suit. The women helped each other to tie their tiny bikinis, all slipping into a beach cover up when they had their suits on.

"Hey, that's no fair," Fred joked. "No fair covering up all those delicious-looking titties."

"We would feel a little odd walking down the hallway in this hotel with nothing on but our imagination bikinis," Carla reasoned. "Most of us are country girls..."

"Bullshit," Fred laughed. "Yesterday all of you were running around in the nude on that other beach, and other than the first few minutes, not a single one of you even blushed."

"Yeah," Audrey said, "but everyone else was nude, too. But, we met several people as we came down the hallway just now, and only one of them had a bikini on without a wrap. Besides, our coverups are sexy," she said, spinning around to model hers. It looked like a very short mini dress from the back, with a tie in the front similar to a bathrobe.

"That's a fine ass there," Fred said as he stared at Audrey, then, "Gosh, I'm going to miss this when we get back home and we all have to dress in winter clothes."

"Down, Rover," Brenda said as she punched Fred lightly in the ribs. "If you keep staring at her ass, we'll have to do that blow-job over again." Laughing, they headed for the elevator.

The beach wasn't a nude one, but from the size of the bikinis, it might as well have been. Fred got caught with his eyes tracking a high-breasted blond who prissed by. "Shit, Baby. I can't help it," he whined when Carla pinched his side.

"Maybe we should have given you another blow job," Carla mused. She shaded her eyes from the setting sun and looked around. "There are more women out here than men."

Fred chuckled as he grabbed a corner of the big beach towel Audrey and Brenda were fighting the wind to spread out. "That's good," he said. "Maybe there will be enough women to go around and I won't have to rescue some turd's ass before one of you kills him."

They frolicked in the water for a while, then lay on their towels to air dry. Jessica turned over and snuggled to Fred. "The restaurant has tables next to the pool. I saw some people being served out there. We can eat on the patio without having to go back and change out of our suits. That way we won't have to waste time and can get right to the love making after dinner."

Jessica's hand was inching closer to Fred's cock. "Whoa girl. If you touch that thing, it's going to get hard, and with this little bitty spandex suit you bought for me, there's no place for my dick to go. They'll put me in jail for running around with the head of my dick sticking out of the suit."

"Spoilsport," Jessica teased. Then jumping up, "Let's go eat; I'm starved. That shot of protein didn't fill me up one bit."

Laughing, playing grab ass, they picked up their stuff and headed for the restaurant.

THE RETREAT

Supper over, Jeff took Diana's hand and led her out of the kitchen. "I need to help with..." she tried to protest, but Jeff cut her off, putting his finger to her lips.

"No, you don't." Shortly, they walked out onto the hot tub deck and he guided her over to the glass wall — closed now due to the cold weather. They had an arm around each other as they stood looking out at the snow-covered mountains.

"Remember when you played with Jennie and Melissa the first time out here?" Diana asked as she leaned her head against her mate.

"Uh hmmm," he responded as he tilted his head to nuzzle in her hair. "You're still my woman, though. I love you, you know."

"And I love you, too," she said, wondering at his behavior. Turning in his arms so that she could look up into his face, "Is there anything wrong? You seem..." But she felt his love for her as he leaned to touch his lips to hers for a second.

Suddenly, she felt a flood of emotions from him — love, trust, happiness; others she didn't really have a name for, and there was lust, too. "How do you do that?" she whispered.

"Do what?" he asked, wondering what she meant.

"Sometimes, I can feel ... your love for me, and other things as well. Is it Little One doing it?"

"She isn't on my shoulders, if that's what you're asking. She wanted to be alone. I think she's still trying to expand herself, or something. She's been ... different, preoccupied maybe, since she went into that healing chamber with Arlene."

A slight frown creased Diana's brow, but before she said anything, Jeff guided her to a wide, padded bench that he had previously moved to within a few feet of the glass wall. Sitting, he pulled her down beside him. After gently kissing her, he nuzzled her neck, watching as her nipples suddenly caused bumps in her top. "Jeff, wait. We can't get started out here; Selina might..."

"She won't."

Jeff had a hand under Diana's top and was gently pulling on a nipple. "Oh, Jeff, wait. That..." she sighed out a breath, "feels ... good. But we have a child living with us now ... She could come looking for us at any moment."

"I told her that you and I needed some private time and we would be out here. She immediately said she would stay away. Remember how we used to tell Arlene when she was little that Momma and Daddy were going to make love and to not come into our bedroom or knock on the door unless there was an emergency?"

Diana tried to answer, but he had pulled her top above her breasts and was kissing a circle around a nipple, gradually getting closer and closer. She groaned in frustration, grabbed her breast and pushed the nipple against his mouth. "Suck it," she hissed out, then as his mouth locked on the milk-wet bud, she shuddered into orgasm.

After nursing a while, he changed to the other breast, leaving the first nipple. But Diana's breasts were so full of milk, and she was so excited, that the nipple continued to spew hair-thin streams of milk even though he was no longer sucking on it. She was wearing a light green pullover top, a short skirt of darker green, with a thong, and flats. Within moments, she was lying on the bench, the short skirt was pushed above her hips, the top and thong gone. Later, she had lost count of the orgasms, and that was before his lips touched her most intimate place.

"I love you," she heard faintly as she came down from her latest orgasm. "I appreciate all you do for me. I'm the luckiest man in the world." Then he finally sucked her clit. Everything went red as she screamed out an orgasm that seemed to go on forever. With what little coherent thought she could muster, she wondered why she hadn't fainted, yet. She always fainted when he did whatever he did to her mind as he made love to her, or to one of her sister-wives if she were touching them when he did it. Somehow, she knew he was preventing her from passing out. He's going to kill me with orgasms, some part of her mind thought.

He spread her labia with his thumbs, opening her, cupped his tongue and pushed it partway inside her. After several thrusts with his tongue, he lapped her juices, then very slowly licked upward to strum her clit. She was so keyed up that any touch of her clit produced, or reproduced, a thundering orgasm. He went on and on, changing his technique, varying the pressure of his tongue, sometimes reaching up to pull on her nipples, or suck on her clit instead of licking it. Occasionally, he would whisper how much he loved and appreciated her.

Finally, sometime later — minutes, hours; time had little meaning for her — she was allowed to sleep/pass out completely, to awaken somewhat as her sister-wives came to bed. She knew that time had passed, but had no memory of Jeff walking down the hall with her snuggled in his arms; nor of the smiling Selina who had reached up to touch Diana as Jeff walked past. When he had finished making love to his wives and mates, Diana had crawled into his arms to sleep, tears of joy leaking from her eyes. She heard him say, yet again, "I love you," as sleep took her for the night.

MONDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 21

Kayla felt a warm mouth tug on her nipple. At first, she thought she was dreaming of what Jeff had done to her last night, but teeth nipped gently at the nipple and she opened her eyes. "I'm going to go run," he whispered.

Duty jarred her awake. Grabbing his head, she pulled him away from her breast so she could kiss him. "Morning breath," he quietly said as he resisted for a second.

"Both of us," she answered, plastering her mouth to his.

Pulling away after a moment, he chuckled and said, "That kiss isn't going to change my mind, but if you keep it up, I'll be running with a hard-on."

Giggling, she eased out of bed. He reached to take her hand and lead her to the shower. "I'm sticky from last night, and that's not a good way to start a run. Let's get wet for a minute. It will help wake us up, too."

"Jeff," he said aloud to the sensor that adjusted the water temperature when they had reached the huge shower. "You can warm it up some more, if you like," he said to her, knowing that his women frequently wanted their shower to be a little warmer than his, particularly when he first stepped into the water.

"No, that's fine," she said, stuffing her hair into a shower cap, not wanting to spend the time to dry her hair this morning.

His cock was hard, standing up almost against his belly. She soaped her hands and immediately went for his manhood. After soaping it and tugging him under the water to rinse, she stood looking at his cock. "Diana says that all your wives practice squeezing their pussy muscles against a small dildo, and they frequently keep the dildo in for a good part of the day. I'm going to have to start doing that soon, or my pussy is going to be big and sloppy. I still have a hard time thinking I can actually take that in me," she finished, shaking his dick a little.

"It is not that big, and you know it..."

"Good, then push it in me," she said as she turned from him, bent over and grabbed one of the bars.

Jeff stepped up behind her, leaning over and taking her breasts in his hands, caressing them.

Kayla moaned and wiggled her ass. "Not necessary, My Love. I'm ready. Just fuck me hard."

Jeff worked his cock in gently, despite what she said. When he touched her womb, he pulled back a little, then shoved back in to touch it more forcefully. She dropped her belly, arching her back. "Drill me with it," she whispered, then stronger, "Fuck me. Just fuck me hard."

Jeff set up a slow rhythm, gradually picking up speed when she slammed her hips back at him on every stroke. "Now," she hissed out. "Now. Come in me. I want to feel your stuff squirt against my womb. Breed me. Knock me up. Fuck me. Pump your sperm into me."

He reached forward as she held herself bent over hanging onto the bar. He grabbed her swinging breasts again, squeezing tight, but not hard enough to hurt. "Yesss," she hissed out. "Come in me while you hold your whore to keep her from getting away."

I don't know whether she's trying to stir me up, or her, but it's damn sure working on me,  he thought as he could feel his semen starting to pump. The slap, slap, slap of their groins hitting together was punctuated by her harsh breathing as she slammed her ass back at him.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit," she wailed. "Come in me. Knock my ass up."

Jeff knew that Little One had done something to keep his wives' eggs from maturing, hence there could be no pregnancies, but her words took his lust to new heights, anyway. He pulled back until the head of his cock was barely in her, then lunged forward while he yanked her back on his cock by her breasts. His cock jerked once, hard, then spewed a thick rope of semen into her spasming pussy, washing against her cervix and womb. She let out a warbling wail as she held back against him as hard as she could.

Kayla could feel his semen filling her — being forced out around their junction as she became overfilled. The world swam around her as she fought to remain conscious. Oh, wow. One of these days I will be fertile and he will be putting a baby into my belly for real. I can feel his seed in me. I have to get Diana to teach me to milk his cock the way she does. Oh, shit. Wake up girl, he wants to run and you need to be there with him. The world faded away despite her intentions.

Kayla felt the water running on her back and realized that he had pulled out of her and was holding her under the shower. Giggling, she laid her head against his chest. "I'm glad it's you running and not me. I'll do good just to walk after that, My Mate. That thing you have dangling between your legs is dangerous."

Jeff lifted her face up and kissed her mouth hard. "Get that pretty ass of yours into a warm outfit, then take an Escalade from the inside garage so you won't freeze in a cold car. I need to put some miles behind me."

When they were dressed, Jeff handed her his helmet. "Wear this. I don't like car lights shining on me while I run. Things are ... silhouetted, I guess you could say. Anyway, the lights behind me are distracting on the snow."

"My helmet has low light abilities," she started.

"Yeah, but it isn't a battle helmet. This one does better."

"Thanks my Prime," she said, glancing downward, somehow appearing modest and pure, although her pussy was still dripping his sperm into her panties.

They dressed quickly, then, "Get your ass in that car, Witch," he teased. "You have your spell cast over me, and you know it."

Giggling, she grabbed her coat, rifle, sidearm, and radio. Hurrying out of the suite, she jogged down the hall.

At the foot of the drive, she parked her vehicle and got in the second escort vehicle with the two troopers. "Where were you yesterday?" Sanders asked.

"The Colonel snuck out without me. Got both our asses chewed out by the General."

Both troopers chuckled, but both knew better than to ask her about her relationship with the Colonel. They knew that he had multiple wives, and wondered if Kayla was one of them, even suspected that she was, but the Colonel's business was his own. They weren't even on his team. This was a cushy mission and they didn't want to do anything to piss the Colonel off and fuck up this good job. He was a nice guy, but after what he did to that guy in the ring, nobody wanted to get on his bad side — nobody.

Sanders had to show Kayla how to access the satellite feed and the link to the various cameras that were installed along the mountain road. She became quiet as she surveyed the road ahead, just as the other security people were doing, both in the vehicles and back at the ski lodge, plus backup personnel at the General's base were also doing the same thing. Everyone knew that if something happened to the General's starship commander, heads would roll.

There had been very light snow falling when they started, but by the time they reached the ten-mile tree, the snow had picked up. With no wind to stir them, big wet flakes fell straight down. Jeff's tracks became more pronounced as he started back, his running pace the same as when he came down the mountain.

"How does he do that?" Sanders said. "That would fucking kill my ass. Uh, excuse me, Lieutenant. I let my mouth slip, Ma'am."

Kayla turned to look at the trooper beside her. "The Colonel says I'm to get more training. All I have is my FBI training, plus the minimum we all receive before going off-world. The General said I'm to be the Colonel's last line of defense, so I hope to have the training you guys have one of these days. And I'm not going to be a prima donna. So, at ease about a little language while we're on an escort and away from the public. And I'm just as jealous as you are about his running. I would have run with him, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up even for the first mile, so my sentiments are the same as yours. I have no idea how he runs like that, but he's one hell of a man." And gentlemen, I have a pussy full of proof,  she said to herself as she smiled behind the helmet visor.



-------

Chapter 102

A LITTLE LATER MONDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 21

At breakfast, Joyce, still in her uniform, was quiet, obviously tired, as she listlessly ate her food. When she finished, Diana urged her toward the door, shushing her protests about helping with cleanup. "Go get some sleep, Love. You work; we don't."

Diana locked eyes with Jeff, then nodded toward Joyce as she left the kitchen. Jeff kissed his Queen and hurried after Joyce. A couple of minutes later, in the big walk-in closet, he took her gun belt out of her hand and hung it on the padded peg that he had mounted for that purpose.

"Feels good to get rid of that," she sighed as she stripped her shirt off and popped the Velcro loose to allow her to slip out of her body armor. Jeff wasn't sure whether she meant her gun belt or the armor, or both as he took the vest from her and hung it on a strong hanger. Her clothes went into her dirty clothes hamper and she soon stood nude before him.

"You have a beautiful body to go with that pretty face," he said, and she knew he meant the compliment.

"Thank you. You're kinda special yourself," she said, leaning against him and snuggling her head to his shoulder.

"Why so tired this morning?" he quietly asked. "Rough shift?"

She pulled back a little to look up into his face. "It started out with a bang, but after that, it just died. I swear boredom is worse than a shift that's wide open. First call, though, I got in a foot chase with a burglar. I chased him between two houses and straight into Samson. And I mean that literally. The guy was looking behind to see how close I was and trying to run at the same time. He wasn't good at multitasking," she grinned. "I was gaining on him and had already chased him for a couple of blocks. Samson stepped from behind the house right into the burglar's path. The guy hit that mountain of a man going full out. The burglar bounced off and hit the ground. Samson just stood and chuckled as I handcuffed the asshole.

"The burglar didn't resist at all. I think he was knocked breathless when he hit Samson. I was out of breath from the chase, and had to wait a few minutes to get enough energy to walk the guy back to my car. I finally got my breath back, marched him down the road and put him in my vehicle. Samson, or one of the other deputies, could have taken the guy to my vehicle while I was recovering, but they let me do it. The homeowner and several of the neighbors saw me with the handcuffed burglar, and cheered. The guys wanted me to get the credit for catching the burglar, but it was a team effort. I'm not sure whether I could have caught him or not, let alone taken him down after the foot chase, but..."

"I know," Jeff said, kissing her forehead, "but that's what a team does. I worry about you, and it makes me feel a little better when you tell me how you guys take care of each other. I'm alive because of my team, and on occasion I have returned the favor," he said, understanding.

Joyce snuggled back in Jeff's arms. "After that little episode, the shift just died. All the drunks, burglars and domestic disputes went to bed or something. I didn't get a call the rest of the shift. I was so bored that I must have checked every business on my beat at least three times. I kept getting sleepy, so I went in every place that was open and got a cup of coffee. I swear, the shifts are either boredom or chaos ... and sometimes I think I prefer chaos," she sighed.

"Adrenalin junkie," he teased.

"You should talk," she shot right back at him with a grin.

Jeff hugged her for a moment, then she sniffed, "I smell," she said, wrinkling her nose. "My tee shirt smelled like mildew when I took it off, too. Probably came from sweating on it when I chased that guy. I need to get a shower before I go to sleep on my feet," she groggily finished.

Jeff quickly dropped his clothes and followed her into the shower. She stood leaning against him as he quickly soaped a sponge and gently washed her. After drying her with a fluffy towel, he picked her up and took her to bed.

"Make love to me, Husband," she said, turning on her side to face him as they lay together. He gently kissed her lips and stroked her back. A moment later, her eyes closed and her breathing deepened. After a quiet snore from her, Jeff smiled, caressed the side of her head one more time, pulled the sheet up, turned the light out and left his wife to rest.

-------

Diana met her husband in the hallway outside the living room. "I think we have a problem."

"What?" Jeff answered, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"I don't really know," she said, taking his hand. "It's Jennie. She's been a little too quiet the whole weekend. Haven't you noticed?"

Jeff thought for a second. "Yeah, I guess I did. I asked her yesterday if anything was wrong, and she said she was just thinking about something they were working on in class. I guess I didn't pay any attention after that. You sure there's something else?"

"Look," Diana said. Still holding his hand, she drew him to the door, then nodded toward Jennie who was sitting with her feet curled under her on a couch farther down the living room. She appeared to be just staring into space with a phone laying in her lap.

The Prime and his Queen looked at each other. "Oh, shit," he whispered. "That's not like her."

They took a step back into the hallway. "I tried to talk to her yesterday and the day before. Each time I did, she would brighten up and claim nothing was wrong. But something is wrong. It's strong enough that I can feel it, but I don't know what it is. See if she'll talk to you," Diana encouraged.

"Me?" he said. "You're the Queen. I'll say something stupid, or worse. I've already asked her, but she obviously didn't want to talk to me about whatever is bothering her."

Diana pulled his face down to lightly kiss his lips. "Don't give me that 'I'm a man and I don't know anything about women' crap. Go hold your wife and tell her you love her. Even if she won't tell you what's wrong, she still needs you. Now go," she finished, giving him a gentle push through the door.

Jeff, hesitant, walked over to his young wife, sat and gently took her in his arms. Jennie was stiff at first, not really resisting him, but not readily relaxing into his arms, either. She sat, his arm around her and her head against his shoulder, saying nothing.

She's tense. She usually molds herself to me when I hold her. I've already asked her what was wrong. What am I supposed to do? She's obviously upset about something, but I can't think of anything I've done wrong. Well, not to her, anyway. I did screw up with Kayla, but I apologized for that, and made love to her. She seems fine now. Is Jennie jealous of my making love to Kayla? None of my wives have ever shown jealousy before — well, that I noticed, anyway. Shit, what's going on? First I have problems with Kayla, now Jennie. I don't know whether to release some pheromones or not. Would that help, or piss her off? Shit, I'm a man. Doesn't Diana realize that I don't know shit about women? Maybe it's PMS. No, that can't be. Little One took care of that. They aren't having periods anymore, and won't have until we decide to have kids and Little One turns my mates' baby factories back on.

Jennie started to cry, which he first realized when he felt a wet spot on his shirt. He tilted her face up and touched his lips to hers. That really started the waterworks. Still there was no sound, just a flood of tears down her cheeks. The tears scared him more than a near miss with a bullet. "Baby, what have I done? I promise I didn't mean to do it. Please tell me what I've done wrong."

"It's not you," she snuffled. "It's just ... I think something's wrong with Hope."

"Hope? Your sister, Hope?" he inanely said. Of course it's her sister, you idiot. How many Hopes does she know? he silently admonished himself.

"Yeah. Oh, I don't know. It's probably nothing, but..."

Jeff got up, yanked a drawer open and found a box of tissue. Reseating himself and pulling her to him again, he waited as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "Tell me, please."

Jennie sniffed, the tears still trickling down her cheeks, her voice trembling a little, "Hope has been ... oh, I don't know, just sounding withdrawn, I guess. Not like herself for the last several weeks. I don't really know when it started. I guess I finally realized that it had been going on for a while. You know that I talk to her on the phone; she's just a little more than a year younger than me. She was upset when I left with you. She thought we could have ... straightened out what was going on with Dad and Mom.

"According to Hope, Daddy was really mad at you for taking me away, but he was scared of you and the judge. He was afraid that you would have him put in jail..."

"Baby, I've never been proud of what I did to get you, but we were already irrevocably linked because of my pheromones. You know that..."

Jennie's head snapped up to stare at Jeff. "I could not stay there. I had to be with you. Melissa and I both. Don't blame yourself for anything you had to do to get us. Besides, Daddy is a shit. Don't ever think that your making love with Arlene, and what Daddy was doing to Hope when we walked in that night are the same thing. You make love to us — all your wives. Daddy didn't make love to Hope and me; he just fucked us. He didn't give a shit about pleasing us, only himself."

Jeff kissed a tear away. "Okay, okay, but let's get back to Hope. Tell me what you think is going on."

Jennie dabbed her eyes one last time. "Like I said, I'm not sure. It's just that she has been sounding different on the phone the last few weeks — often withdrawn — and she sometimes tells me something, then a few days later when we're talking, she contradicts herself, or says something different, changes things. Like maybe she was lying about something she said, then forgot the lie and said something else. One time, when she didn't answer her cell, she said she had been to a ball game with her boyfriend on Friday night and had shut her phone off. I didn't even know she had a boyfriend. Then a couple days later, she said she had gone to the mall on Friday night. I guess she could have done both, but she's said things that didn't make sense, more than once. It's just not like her. She's smart. She doesn't make mistakes like that."

"So she's done something like that again?"

"No ... Now she doesn't answer her phone. She either doesn't have it on, or she's out of the reception area or something. I get a recording when I try to call her. That's been going on the whole weekend, and ... I just feel that something is wrong. I know it is."

"I suppose you have tried her home phone?"

"Yeah, nobody answers. And that's part of the problem. Hope said that Hal (Hope and Jennie's brother) went to live with Uncle Mack almost a month ago..."

"Yeah, you told me about that."

"Well, anyway, I've only talked to Hal once since then. He was curt ... which isn't unusual for him, but he just sounded different. He wouldn't tell me why he left home, or why Mother and Daddy let him. I don't talk to Mom much. And I don't talk to Daddy at all. You know why I don't talk to Daddy, but I do talk to Mom every now and then. But I haven't talked to her in weeks. Hope always tells me Mom is shopping or something. I don't think Mom is even at home anymore. Something is going on, but I don't know what. Now, I haven't been able to get Hope on the phone at all for several days, and ... I'm worried. Something is wrong."

Jeff just held her for a couple of minutes. He opened his mouth to tell her everything was probably all right, and Hope would likely call soon, but he hesitated. Jennie didn't overreact. If she said something was wrong with Hope, chances were that she was right. Question is, what can I do about it? he thought.

"I can have Mark go by your house and check on things. I'm sure he would be glad to."

But Jennie was shaking her head. "Daddy just about hates me now. If the police start asking him questions..."

"Or we could hire a private investigator to check things out without alerting your family, I guess. Other than that, I don't know what else to do, Baby."

Jennie sighed. "I know. But let's wait a while before we involve the police or do anything else. Maybe she'll call. When I do get her on the phone, though, I'm going to find out what's going on. Something is. I just know it is."

Jeff continued to sit and hold his wife until she had to get up and go to the bathroom. He went looking for Diana to bring her up to date on what little he had learned.

-------

Later, Dave met Jeff in the living room. "Just to remind you that the attorneys will be here at ten to close on the deal for the property that lies between us and the Spermans."

"Yeah, I remember. How are things going with the changes in the ski lodge/security building?"

"We should finish up by tomorrow night. Not having to wait for an inspector to come out helped a lot. I've never failed an inspection yet, but it's sometimes a bitch having to wait on an inspection before starting the next stage of a job. The General's people laid out what they wanted, I did it, and they quickly okayed the job. That's good enough for me. For all practical purposes, it's a military operation, despite the fact you own the building. I imagine what few people live on the county road think the old ski lodge is still abandoned, and with the road blocked on the first turn past our driveway, no one will ever know the difference. Lieutenant Mayfield said he was to contact the General if a civil inspector came out sniffing around, and he (the General) would take care of it.

"I had one big crew working on the damage the tree and avalanche caused, and another big crew making the changes that Lieutenant Mayfield needed for his security setup. Mayfield tells me there will probably be more changes later, but things should work fine for a while the way they are."

"When do you finish Helen's classrooms?"

"We're almost finished with remodeling Carla's house and building the RV garage. Just a couple more days. I'm going to have to wait until spring to put up the rockwork to match the outside of the garage to the barn and house, though. The bricklayers can't do very much with it so cold their mud freezes on the trowel. I'll have the original crew that worked on the classrooms back here by Wednesday. Shouldn't take more than a couple of days to finish up.

"I've talked with Helen a couple of times about her classrooms, but she was adamant that finishing Carla and Jessica's house while they are on vacation is more important, just as you instructed me to do. She tells me that the temporary classrooms and her office are better than anything she has ever had in the school system, anyway. The lady is a class act," he finished.

"Yeah," Jeff quietly said, "and to think we almost lost her to a heart attack."

"That's a sobering thought," Dave agreed. He paused for a moment, then, "Just think what Little One has done for us since then. My body is toned; my muscles are hard as rocks. I've never felt this good in my life. My women are in superb health ... Oh, that reminds me, I told you that Evie was starting to have a little milk in her breasts. Well, that's changed. The volume went way up in magnitude, almost overnight. She could feed twins now, and Jeff, she ... uh, she will kill me if she finds out I told you this, but she about goes crazy when I nurse her. She says that my sucking milk out of her breasts produces orgasms that are almost as intense as when she feels me pumping my sperm into her. I assume that Little One is behind all this, but Diana tells Evie it's that and more, that Queens give milk. Hell, I don't know what causes it, but I hope it never goes away."

"Got that right," Jeff said as Dave left to go about his errands, both men chuckling as they parted.

Jeff stood and looked out the window for a moment, admiring the view of the snow-clad mountains. Turning, he had almost reached the door to the hallway when he met Selina coming into the living room. She stopped, her laptop slung over her shoulder, her countenance serious as she looked up at him, "Prime, if you are not busy, I would like to have a short conference with you."

Why is she addressing me as Prime? Who started this? And what's this about a conference? Jeff almost laughed aloud, but quickly shut down the urge. A six-year-old asking for a conference. Six-year-olds don't talk like that. Hell, I don't talk like that. She seldom even uses contractions, either. But his mind changed the direction of his thoughts before the emotion showed. The look on her face; I'm not speaking to a six-year-old right now. "Certainly," he formally replied. "Would the living room suffice, or would you prefer my office?"

"The living room will be acceptable, since we are alone in here," she responded, glancing around the big room, then putting her laptop on a table near the door.

A moment later, she sat on a couch as Jeff sat across from her in a comfortable chair. "What's wrong my little friend?" he quietly asked as he leaned back and crossed his legs.

"I have sought you out to apologize. I have scarcely arrived, yet I have already managed to cause dissension between you and one of your mates. On occasion, my curiosity has led to unforeseen results — such was the case yesterday morning. Had I not mentioned the article I read, you would not have left the building to run outside and your mate would not have been disquieted, nor would you have received a reprimand from your General."

Jeff briefly wondered how she had found out about the General, but decided he didn't want to pursue that right now. Probably Kayla told one of my mates and Selina overheard them talking. Looking at the serious little girl sitting in front of him, he was momentarily stymied for an appropriate response. Taking a breath, he blew it out, stalling. Finally, "Selina, you did nothing wrong. I was, and am, very pleased that altering my shoes with the screws worked so well and allowed me to get back on the pavement for my morning runs. I was remiss in not telling Kayla that I was going out. If the run had not happened with the shoes, though, it would have happened sooner or later, anyway, even if I had to sand and salt ten miles of the county road to do it. Running on that treadmill, to me, is as boring as watching rocks grow. I don't really have a problem with most of the other machines, but treadmills and I just don't get along. Again, you did nothing wrong. I simply didn't think to notify Kayla that I was going to leave the premises. She takes her job seriously and I knew that; I just screwed up. I deserved the reprimand. Kayla is my mate, and will soon be my wife, so the possibility of putting her in harm's way is very hard for me to do."

Jeff sat for a second, thinking, then, "I almost said the wrong things to you. I almost told you that you were a child and the decisions we made were entirely my responsibility, but ... we both know that would be an insult to your intelligence. Please try to remember, though, that I and the others here see the pretty little girl that you are. We want to hug you and protect you. But we're presented also with the genius that lurks behind those beautiful green eyes of yours.

"Something about me, and the other Alphas here, allows us to fall in love quickly, and that seems to apply to our mates as well. Much of this is due to Little One, for she has enhanced our bodies and minds. It's almost scary to think what enhancing you — should you approve — will produce. Maybe nothing, maybe more. Possibly your brain is already enhanced, but enhancing your body will vastly prolong your lifespan. However ... remember to be that little girl that I see seated before me, too. Don't miss out on your childhood. None of us will push you to become an adult before your time."

They sat just casually looking toward each other for a time, while each thought. Astonishingly, Selina giggled, which caused Jeff to chuckle. "What's so funny my little love?"

Selina's eyes sparkled. "You, your General, your many wives, Little One, this place, the military installation next door, a mate — as she refers to herself — who became terribly distraught when she was not awakened shortly after four in the morning to provide an escort to a man whom I suspect is far more capable of protecting himself than she is of protecting him. The two vehicles that met you at the base of the driveway as I watched on the monitor. Vehicles that I assume were carrying military personnel for your escort. This morning I saw Kayla enter a vehicle and back out of the garage while she was wearing one of those helmets I spoke of earlier. In addition, all the unknowns that I surmise are hiding just below the surface of your conversations when I am near enough to hear. This is a fascinating place, and it contains the most intriguing people I have ever encountered."

Smiling, Selina continued, "You mention the 'little girl' you see sitting before you. I have struggled to maintain the child persona with parents, acquaintances and extended family. That has often interfered, to varying degrees, with my drive to study and learn. Oddly enough, the servants at my previous home know more about my attempts to study than do my parents. The servants frequently saw the arrival of my books and other purchases at the servant's entrance to our home, and they were frequently in close proximity as I studied from textbooks that were far beyond my age. My parents seldom noticed, and when their curiosity was occasionally piqued, they were easily dissuaded, or misdirected. I suspect they had rather ignore the enigma that I represent instead of facing the consequences of an unusual child."

Jeff sat for a moment, wondering how he could express his feelings without sounding pompous or condescending to the genius before him. Finally, he sighed and said, "Baby, please take this for exactly what I say, and don't read something else into it. There's something called experience, and that word and what it stands for, can't be taken lightly. For example, 'green' troops frequently die in battle — die at a higher rate than more experienced personnel do, that is. Both groups have similar training, but experience frequently makes a survival difference."

Selina started to respond, but Jeff raised his hand slightly, signaling her to wait. "I know you're aware of this, and I'm also aware that, in some areas, you're highly educated. But trust me, as they say, there are big gaps in your knowledge. Please let Helen guide you. For one thing, she's been where you are now. In other words, she was a child prodigy just as you are. Knowledge can literally be dangerous. Dangerous mainly because of the lack of experience. All I'm asking is that you talk to Helen and use her vast array of knowledge for guidance as you grow both mentally and physically. Also, Diana is the Queen of our family. As they say — whoever they are — she never ceases to amaze me. On an IQ test, she would not show up as a genius, but her intelligence and her 'common sense' has shamed me many times. Trust her and her judgment. You will be better served if you do."

"Did I hear my name taken in vain?" Diana teased as she walked in.

"Yep," Jeff laughed. "I just told Selina that you had to have a calculator to add two and two," he said, lying through his teeth.

Diana, having heard the last of the conversation, laughed and sat beside Selina. The Queen put her arm around the child and squeezed her tight for a second. "You two certainly look serious."

"Selina was worried that her idea about the screws in my shoes had caused problems between me and Kayla."

Diana smiled down at Selina, "Nonsense. What got him into trouble was testosterone — an abundance thereof. It's not the first time, and it probably won't be the last. In other words, he's a man," she laughed, then tempered her comment with, "A good looking one, though."

Selina and Diana looked at each other and laughed, sharing a female moment, Jeff figured, then he thought, She's only six and she can already do that with a grown woman. What in the world will she be capable of when she's thirty?

Both females saw the expression on Jeff's face, then looked at each other and burst out laughing again.

Suddenly, Selina's eyes locked with Jeff's. "So when am I going to be trusted enough to hear where Little One originated? The more I review my memory of her when I saw her on your shoulders in the basement, the more assured I become that she is not of this world. All those things we just discussed, Prime, also factor into my reasoning. How did she come to Earth? When will I be able to know these things and the myriad of others that come to mind in association with the thought of an off-world species?

"I speculate that everyone here knows the answers to those questions, with the exception of myself. Is it because I am a child, or is it because I am an outsider that I am not allowed this information?"

"You're almost right about who knows the answers to your questions," Diana quietly answered. "Alesha doesn't know, as well as Jessie, her friend who is a deputy. He frequently eats with us, but hasn't been here since the wedding Friday night. But it isn't because of your age. Well not exactly,  or certainly not in the context you mean. You see we..." and the block reared its head as Diana stopped almost in mid-word. "Oh, shit. I was just going to say..." and the block stopped her again, this time there was a faint queasy feeling as a warning.

Diana chopped off the curse that bubbled to her lips, then stared at her husband. "I'm beginning to really get pissed at that thing," she growled under her breath.

Selina was staring at Diana when the thinking of the little genius suddenly accelerated. "Something stopped you," Selina said. "You did not just stop yourself; you meant to continue, but something stopped you and interfered with your ability to communicate; did it not? Hypnosis, possibly. No, your actions do not fit the criteria precisely. Something else..."

"It's called a block," Jeff said into the quiet.

Selina's language went into overdrive, one word slammed out jammed behind the next, causing Diana's mind to reel as she tried to decipher what almost sounded like giant one-word sentences. "A block?-A mental block?-I was only peripherally aware they existed, and those I read about were usually caused by trauma to the individual, along with memory loss and other mental deficiencies in that category.-How did this block originate?-What is its purpose?-Prime, does this relate to the items I mentioned to you yesterday, the military helicopter, the helmet and the other things?"

Jeff just sat and waited for her to wind down, amusement showing on his face.

"Where does ... oh. I, uh ... apologize," she suddenly stammered. "As I mentioned before, my curiosity sometimes leads to unforeseen results — this time it has led to ... embarrassment," she finished as she blushed. "But..." Selina stopped, contrite. "Again, I apologize. I am an outsider, yet I am asking for what is obviously privileged information. I will return to my suite and contemplate this."

Jeff quickly took the step and knelt down in front of Selina before she could stand. Taking her hands in his, he smiled at her, seeing his Queen smiling as well. "Shhhh," he said to the child. "No need to leave. Again, you have certainly done nothing wrong. Well, at least that I know about," he teased.

Selina obviously didn't realize he was teasing until she noticed his grin. "Oh, I..." Sighing, she continued, "I sometimes don't understand jokes or teasing. Apparently I take both too literally, and often I have to have them explained to me. Even then, sometimes I never really think they are amusing."

"You'll learn about them here," Diana said. "We're a happy group of people. Sometimes I think my daughter and younger sister-wives had rather tease than ... hmmm, do other things. Just remember, none of us — the 'us' being anyone who lives here in the retreat — would deliberately say anything disparaging about you or any other person who lives here. So if you think a comment is derogatory concerning one of us, you included of course, you need to look for alternative meanings."

Jeff squeezed Selina's hand a little to get her attention again, "Now we come back to our little chat about experience. You haven't heard the original comment or been there for whatever happened in the past, and therefore, may not realize the connotations of the jest or tease. Just remember that the person doing the teasing and the one who is being teased, do remember, and there would never be any ill intention. With time, you'll have a shared background of experiences and memories with us to call upon for a thorough understanding of our interactions. Experience, in other words. You're welcome here, and despite your still feeling like an outsider, remember what I said about us falling in love quickly. You're not an outsider — you're family to us already."

Jeff knew where Selina's thoughts were headed. "And yes, we have excluded you from knowledge about Little One, or the many other things that we have to maintain as a secret. Thus, the reason for the blocks. We can talk freely among ourselves, but we cannot discuss certain things with persons who don't have the blocks. And before you ask," he went on as Selina took a breath to start another round of questions, "I have contacted General Whitworth. He only has block information for individuals ten years old and older. He is checking with his ... scientists to determine if the blocks are safe for you. Gut feeling for both of us is that they are, indeed, safe, but we will bow to the knowledge of his people on this. If he okays it, and with your permission, I will install the blocks and we will be able to freely discuss the answers to a number of your questions. Selina, I suspect that this information will, at least at first, be beyond what even you have considered. But until the General okays the blocks, our story will have to wait."



-------

Chapter 103

Arlene stuck her head in the door of the living room where Jeff, Selina and Diana were talking. "Time for school, Little Sister," Arlene said, not bothering to try to curb her enthusiasm. "We're gonna have a ball."

Selina, despite wanting to attend Doctor Boswell's school, had certain reservations, but mostly just those of a new student in a new system. Diana, noticing the look on Selina's face and guessing the source, stood as Selina did and hugged the girl. "I know that you, understandably, are a little ill at ease right now, but I guarantee you'll enjoy this day so much you won't want to leave school this afternoon. Remember though, Helen is just as smart as you are, and she's had years of experience to go with her intelligence. We all love you. Just go and have a good time. We'll see you at lunch."

Selina smiled at her, bowed ever so slightly and said, "Thank you, my Queen," then turned to give Jeff a hug.

After Diana was certain Selina was out of earshot, the Queen, a question on her face, turned to her husband.

"Search me," he responded, but before she could say anything he continued with, "Suddenly, I'm being called Prime. I kinda enjoyed her calling you Queen, though." Tipping Diana's face up to his, he kissed her hard for a moment, his tongue teasing her lips until they parted for him.

When his mouth left hers, she slumped against him. "Don't start anything we can't finish. The lawyers will be here this morning and I don't need to look fresh fucked when they arrive." But she moderated her comment with, "Although I would love for you to screw my brains out if we had the time. And while I'm thinking about it, what brought on all that special attention yesterday? Not that I'm complaining," she giggled. "There was a time there that I thought I would surely die when I couldn't stop coming, and ... you wouldn't let me pass out, would you? I was going to talk to you afterward, but I was so exhausted I couldn't seem to stay awake later while you were making love to my sisters. I barely managed enough energy afterward to crawl into your arms. The next thing I knew was when Laura shook me awake this morning and handed me a glass of orange juice. They already had breakfast ready when I got to the kitchen. What did you do to me?"

Jeff chuckled as he hugged her. "I made love to my Queen — that's all."

After staring at him for a moment, "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too, My Queen." Then after hugging her, "I think I'll go over to the ski lodge and check with the Major. He was supposed to come in with the first weapon emplacement this morning."

Diana frowned. "Aren't those weapons going to stand out like a sore thumb? Every plane or helicopter that comes over will see them, won't they? Not to say anything about visitors."

Jeff was shaking his head. "Conventional weapons would be obvious, but the General said he was going to use the latest equipment. Some of this is off-world technology. None of it is truly large. He assures me that after the installations are complete, no one will be able to see anything. They are even using my new radar where appropriate, and it can't be jammed. From what Lieutenant Mayfield tells me he has gleaned from the Major, the General has gone for overkill on defensive weapons. At least I will know that my women are safe."

Diana let out a chuckle. "Don't kid yourself my darling husband. All that 'overkill' is for you, the Prime who commands the General's starship. We're only part of the peripherals and will be guarded from harm because it would piss off the Prime to have one of his women hurt."

"Di..."

Kissing him on his cheek, "Go talk to your Major, My Love. I have a house to run."

-------

Arlene held the classroom door for Selina. Her laptop slung over her shoulder again, the six-year-old walked in to be greeted by everyone. Selina's eyes scanned their faces — wondering. She had chatted with the girls as she assisted with breakfast, then laughed and helped out with cleanup, but there was something ... Everyone seemed to be busy already, though, either booting up desktop computers at the other end of the room, or starting their laptops as the girls sat in comfortable chairs.

Doctor Boswell motioned to a seat. As Selina sat and started to take her laptop out of its case, her eyes focused on the small table in front of her.

Doctor Boswell walked over, and speaking deadpan as she motioned to the wide-lined paper on the small table in front of Selina, said, "I thought we would start off with a little test to see how well you are doing with your cursive writing."

Selina stared at the first grade paper for a second, then her mind kicked into gear. This wasn't a manufactured first grade ruled writing pad. The lines, though neat, were made with a printer and on plain paper. Why would she start me ... Joke. They're teasing me and I almost succumbed. She wiped the startled expression off her face after a split second, then affecting a look of intense concentration, the tip of her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, she picked up a pencil and began to laboriously write her name in large, shaky letters.

There was a moment of total silence, then the girls all roared out their laughter, as did Selina. Doctor Boswell, also laughing, grabbed the writing paper and tossed it in the trash can, then hugged Selina. "Welcome to our school. Now, your school. And oh, yes, we thought you might like a laptop like everyone else has. A little birdie told me that you might like one with a bigger screen, and it will certainly come in handy with the programs we use here," she said as she handed Selina a still-boxed, new laptop computer.

"Sorry about the tease," Arlene said as she too hugged Selina. "I just had to. I talked Helen into it. And that look on your face was priceless. But we love you, and as smart as you are, that may well be the only time we get one on you. You really should have seen your face, though."

Doctor Boswell and Melissa put two stacks of program boxes beside Selina's chair. "We thought you might want to load your own programs on your new laptop so you can set them up just the way you like. The wider screen is almost a necessity on our CAD program, and for detailed work, you'll need the even bigger, multiple, higher resolution screens of your desktop over there," she finished, pointing to a new desktop, multi-screen computer system at the other end of the room.

Helen, with tears in her eyes, hugged Selina again, "You don't have to hide your light any more, Selina. You're part of us now."

I expected to be welcomed, but I...  Selina hugged her back, then tried to focus on the box containing her new laptop, her thoughts awhirl.

"We charged you a spare battery," Ann said as she put a laptop battery on Selina's table.

"Thank you. That was thoughtful of you," Selina responded as she extracted the laptop from its packaging.

Selina had seldom been censured when she asked for something, mostly because her parents were rich, but also to some extent, just to keep her out of their hair. Her original laptop had been bought with a six-year-old in mind, though: small, lightweight, but light on technical as well. If Selina had insisted on a laptop with a wide, high resolution screen, more robust video and larger hard disk, the request would have fallen outside the child persona she had worked so hard to maintain. If she had bought the laptop herself, it would have been harder to hide it than her books, and if seen by her parents, it would have caused them to wonder — something she didn't want to happen.

"You have no idea how much this means..." Selina started as she put her new laptop on the table.

"I suspect we do, although for different reasons," Arlene said. "Most of us had to wait for expensive things while we were growing up, and even then, we could seldom afford the best until Daddy sold his invention."

Helen put a thick binder on the table. "This is the printed out version of the digital manual that comes with the CAD program. I'm sure it will only take a few minutes for you to read, then you might want to have a copy of our data files we have saved while learning and using the program. The program is capable of doing most anything a CAD program can do, but reading 'how to' in the manual, and learning practical applications of that knowledge are obviously not the same thing."

After snapping the charged battery into the laptop, Selina paused to look up at Doctor Boswell, realizing that there was more behind the words she had spoken. "Yes," Helen said, recognizing that Selina had realized there was more. "One of our CAD projects is almost completed. Next comes the practical application of our computer work. We each inspected your idea of the screws in our husband's shoes..."

"It was not my idea. I read about it on the net. I merely told Jef... , uh, our Prime about it."

"He will not object to your calling him by his first name," Helen quietly injected.

"Our Queen explained to me about a Prime, but it seems disrespectful for someone my age to refer to him in that manner."

Boswell smiled, then went on, "As I mentioned, we have almost completed our current project on the CAD program, so this afternoon, we should receive the trailer frame and the last of the items we purchased in order to complete the practical application of our work."

Selina pushed the On button on her new laptop, and sat back to let the computer do its thing, her mind focused on Doctor Boswell.

"Our local Sheriff is part of our family. He's family for two reasons. He's an Alpha, and our husband who is a Prime, says the Sheriff is family. One day, what I have just said will have more meaning to you than it does this morning. Anyway, Sheriff Tate and his family fell in love with the taste of our coffee. A lot of that taste comes from the excellent water we have up here. We're building him a trailer that will contain a large stainless steel water drum and the pump and other equipment so that the Tate's will have our water for cooking and drinking."

Helen waited for a moment, then continued, "And yes, we could have simply bought him a water trailer. There are many for sale by various companies. A lot of our schoolwork is similar to that of any other school, but when we can, I like to apply the knowledge we have acquired. One aspect of that is the building of the water trailer, another is a duplicate set of books for Carla's farm and ranch. Recently, we have completed a set of plans for Martha's expansion/new restaurant, and those plans were approved by her and have been sent to the architect. They will become reality in the spring. We have other projects going — practical applications to knowledge we have learned in our school. Interested?" she finished with a grin.

Selina was hooked.

ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The ASAC had received a call from the agent in Hanes' ICU room. "He's restless and his eyes have opened a couple of times. The nurse thinks there's a good chance Hanes will wake up for real in a few minutes."

"I'm in the parking deck right now. I'll be there in five," Grigsby said, then snapping his phone closed, he hurried through the deck.

A few minutes later, "He's awake, his kidneys are producing urine, and his liver functions are better," Bobby, the day shift nurse said as Grigsby met her just before she entered Hanes' room. "He's terribly weak, but he mimicked writing, so I'm bringing him one of our small whiteboards," she said.

Grigsby touched her arm. "How is he ... mentally," he whispered.

"He's only been awake a few minutes, so I don't have much to go on, but..."

"Gut feeling?" the ASAC encouraged.

"We'll see," she said, but a smile twitched the corners of her mouth.

The agent in the room started to leave as they entered, but Grigsby waved him back to his seat. Hanes' glanced at them, but his eyes locked onto the white board, recognition obvious.

Bobby pressed the button to raise the head of his bed a little. Putting the marker in Hanes' right hand, she held the board in the proper position for him as it rested against his stomach. He glared at his right hand accusingly when it didn't seem to do what he wanted. Bobby touched his arm and in a soothing voice said, "That's normal. You've been unconscious. You're doing fine. Things will improve quickly. Just take your time."

Hanes' obvious tension ebbed a little with her words. Finally, painstakingly, he managed to scrawl in barely legible block letters, "GIRL?"

Grigsby stepped closer to the bed. "I'm the ASAC in the Atlanta office. I assume you're referring to the girl in the motel room. She was unhurt. She's fine. Just a little shaken up."

Hanes tried to write something else, but his hand didn't seem to be able to hold the marker any longer. His eyes closed and he didn't respond any more. The ventilator continued its regular rhythm and Hanes' chest rose and fell. Grigsby, upset that Hanes had gone back to sleep, or whatever, shot a questioning look at the nurse, but instead of a look of concern on her face, there was a smile.

Bobby picked up the marker lying beside Hanes' hand, her eyes automatically sweeping her readouts once more, then she motioned to the door. Near the door she put the marker and white board in a niche obviously made for that purpose. Outside the room a moment later, she smiled at Grigsby. "A few minutes ago, you wanted me to guess. I shouldn't do this, and again, the doctors..."

" ... will never know from me. I'm not foolish enough to burn my sources," he grinned at her.

Bobby giggled a little, her beauty burning through the professional persona for an instant as she recognized the tease, "I think his mind is fine."

"He had trouble holding the marker."

"He's been in a deep coma," then her smile widening, "It's not like in the movies when the hero suddenly wakes up and everything is fine. In real life, you seldom just snap back and are fully functional. His motor control is better than some I've seen, considering how terribly sick he was yesterday. What you just saw was excellent. I can't wait to tell Sandra. She'll call me as soon as she gets up, and I'll have some good news for her. And before you ask, the answer is no. We don't usually get this involved in a patient's recovery. If you do and the patient doesn't make it (this is an intensive care unit, so some of them don't), well ... it hurts. Sandra and I both have attended funerals for people who have hung on long enough for us to get to know them and their family. We probably will again, but most of the time we try to just do our jobs and go home. I tried working in our neonatal ICU, but seeing a tiny baby die was more than I could stand. I guess every job has its ups and downs. You just saw an up side to this one."

THE RETREAT

The paperwork was signed and the money transferred, all in short order.

When the attorneys and accountant had left, Dave turned to grin at Jeff. "I kidded you about becoming a land baron when you bought the ski lodge property, but with the addition of this chunk, you really are," he laughed.

Jeff grinned at his Alpha, "All the property I just bought is good for nothing except holding the world together, and ... to help maintain our privacy, but the price was too good to turn down."

"I guess it's good when both sides of a deal think they got the better end of things. You do have the mineral rights to go with both properties, and this one included," Dave finished, motioning to mean the retreat property.

"Yeah, for what good the mineral rights are. I doubt if there is anything under us but rock."

"Well, granite counter tops are expensive," Dave teased, knowing that Jeff would never attempt to sell the granite due to the disruption of privacy and the damage the heavy trucks would do to the little county road.

A few minutes later, Jeff and Dave were standing in the hall when the schoolroom door opened and the girls started filing out. Linda went straight to Dave, plastered herself to him, pulling his face down and kissing him. Kim, who had been online in the next room with her college courses, took her turn with her husband a moment later.

Jeff's women lined up and did the same, each kissing him hard for a couple of seconds — the emphasis being on hard. None of the girls and women were wearing bras, and the open-mouthed kisses, and their breasts pushing against his chest, were having an effect on him, but Selina was standing at the end of the line. Desperately, Jeff tried to focus his attention on his rapidly expanding cock, willing it to go down. He couldn't have Selina seeing the bulge in his pants.

Diana, who had come down the hall from the other direction, had joined the line shortly after it began to form, winding up third. Apparently realizing what Jeff's problem was and deciding to tease him, she put additional effort into her kiss, rubbing her long nipples against his chest. Even through the layers of cloth, the hard points inflamed him.

"Di, I..."

Giggling, she turned toward the kitchen as Helen took her place.

Using Helen's body as a shield to keep Selina from seeing, Jeff managed to rearrange his dick so it was pointing upward and the head was under his belt.

Women have a sick sense of humor, he thought as Helen, grinning from ear to ear, left him to head for the kitchen.

"Ooooh," Whitney said as she felt the hard bulge push against her when her turn came.

After the kiss, Jeff swatted her on her ass and sent her on the way.

When Selina was finally standing before him, he turned his body slightly to the side and kissed her on the forehead. "So how was your morning?"

Selina, not fooled in the slightest, but unable to feel the emotions all the women and girls obviously did, nevertheless hugged Jeff. "I had a wonderful morning; certainly Doctor Boswell's school is many times better than that first grade class my parents subjected me to."

"Excellent. I knew you would."

"I must hurry to assist the women," she said as she turned toward the kitchen.

-------

Later, everyone was in the kitchen as lunch was drawing to a close. Whitney put out cups for the men — they had all drunk iced tea for lunch — then came around with the coffee pot.

Jeff put his cup down after taking a sip. Propping his elbows on the table, he looked over at Frank. "So when are you going to start your honeymoon?"

"Start it?" Frank chuckled, deliberately misinterpreting. "We started it Friday night after the wedding."

"Okay. Okay, I get the point. What I should have said was when are you leaving on your honeymoon?" Jeff replied with a grin to match Frank's.

"Well, now, that remains a little vague. It's not as if we have to cancel or move our reservations back. We own the island, so we could go today, next month, or stay there forever, should we choose to do so. I'm going to keep Bill and his women with us in case we want to go somewhere, and ... primarily, they deserve a vacation, too. So I've leased a plane and pilots for my top echelon people to use until we get back from our honeymoon."

"Maybe the better question would be: When are you going to marry Tina?"

Frank tried to casually take a sip of his coffee before, "My women haven't told me yet," he answered straight-faced.

Jeff, Dave and Bill broke out in laughter.

"So, when are you going to marry Kayla and Susan, not to mention the girls you rescued?" Wainwright retaliated.

"My women haven't told me yet," the Prime said as he joined the other men in laughter.

The phone rang.

Ann, who was walking by, answered it, "Matthews' residence. Ann speaking." She was silent for a moment, obviously listening intently, then looking over at Jeff, she said into the phone, "Speak up, please. I can't understand you." She covered the mouthpiece and continued, "I can hear someone quietly crying, and I think she's trying to say something."

"Hope," Jennie shrieked as she bolted toward Ann. "Is it Hope?"

Ann held the phone out to Jennie, "I don't know, but it sounds like a girl's voice, but I can't tell whether it's her or not."

Jennie snatched the phone, "Hope, is that you?" she said, breathless, then stood with the phone pressed hard to her ear. After a moment, she put a finger in her other ear to hear better.

"Everybody hush for a moment, please," Diana said, her voice raised. Conversations and laughter stopped as if a switch had been thrown, and every eye turned toward Jennie.

"Hope, honey, is that you? This is Jennie. Talk to me." Jennie covered the mouthpiece again, "It's Hope. I know it is, but her voice is very weak. She's ... mumbling, kind of, and she's crying so hard I can't understand her. "Hope. Please calm down so I can understand you." Then to Jeff, "I can hear someone else in the background trying to..."

Jennie suddenly stopped in almost mid-word, then after a pause, "Yes, Ma'am. I think she's my sister, Hope, but I can't understand what she's saying. Is she hurt?"

"Put the phone on speaker," Jeff said.

Jennie did so, then put the phone on the counter so everyone could hear.

"No, she isn't hurt. Well, not exactly," the voice answered.

"'Not exactly?' What does that mean? Is my sister hurt or not? Why is she crying?" Jennie snapped out.

"If she is, indeed, your sister, she hasn't been hurt physically, but she has been ... traumatized. Let's start again, I'm Mrs. Louise Carver. My husband is family court judge Wiley Carver. We brought your sister home with us rather than have her placed in a temporary foster home after she left the hospital..."

"'Left the hospital?' I thought you said she hadn't been hurt?" Jennie said, the volume of her voice rising.

"Tell her you have her on speaker," Jeff said.

"Ma'am, I put our phone on speaker so my family can hear as well."

"That's fine," Louise said, then, "She wasn't physically hurt, but she wasn't speaking and she was covered in blood — none of it hers. Now, again, this young lady is physically fine, but she won't speak, though, and only sits and stares. I need to know who I'm talking to before I can release any further information. And I need to ascertain if you are really her sister."

"I'm Jennie Stewart. I'm almost positive that the girl with you is my sister, Hope."

"Describe her."

Jennie did, in detail.

"The description fits. What is your sister's address?"

When Jennie told her, Mrs. Carver said, "That's the address for one of the men the FBI agent told us about."

They could hear the judge's wife as she spoke to Hope. "Is your name Hope Stewart?" There was a pause, then, "Come on, Honey. Is your name Hope Stewart?" There was another pause, then, "She nodded her head. That's the first response I've gotten out of her since we brought her home with us. We tried to get her to call her relatives, but she would never respond. Then a little while ago, she and I were sitting in the living room and she was next to the phone. Suddenly, she just picked it up and dialed."

There was some background noise as if the phone had changed hands, then, "You'll have to say something, Honey. She doesn't know you have the phone."

There was a faint sound and finally a mumbled, "Jennie. Jennie. I need you."

Tears gushed from Jennie's eyes.

"I need to talk to Mrs. Carver," Jeff broke in.

"Hope, give the phone back to Mrs. Carver. We'll come get you," Jennie said as she looked at Jeff for confirmation.

"Of course," he said.

"This is Louise Carver again. I assume..."

"She's my sister. Absolutely no doubt," Jennie said, her voice overly loud and shaking with emotion.

"Ma'am," Jeff spoke up. "I'm Jeff Matthews. Jennie is under my care as the result of an action in your husband's court. We live in Colorado. I have a jet at my disposal," he said, glancing in Frank's direction.

"Absolutely," Wainwright and Bill said simultaneously.

Jeff continued, "We can be on the way within a short period of time, but I would like to talk privately with you for a moment first, though."

"Let me step into the next room." There was a pause, then, "I'm free to talk, but I'm only the judge's wife. I'm just trying to keep this young lady from being ... immersed in the system. From what I hear, she has gone through a very traumatic experience, but I feel that I should leave any further details to my husband."

Jeff sighed. "I was going to ask you if you knew what happened to cause her to have blood on her, but I didn't want her to overhear, of course."

"Well, I suppose I'm not giving out any confidential information. It was all over our local news..." There was a moment's delay, then, "I'll just say this. The news reported there was a shootout at a local motel. Four men were killed and an FBI agent severely wounded. A young lady was also in the room but was uninjured. As I said, she was released from the hospital and DHR was going to put her in a foster home temporarily until her family could be found. My husband called me and we went to DHR and picked her up. I will phone my husband and have him call you. I won't give out our address or any other information. That will be up to him. I hope you understand."

Jeff gave the judge's wife his number, worrying that Hope wouldn't remember it the next time. "We will be waiting for the judge to call, and in the meantime we'll be packing and notifying the helicopter pilot to pick us up. We live in the mountains a distance from the airport. Uh, I have your number on caller ID. If I don't hear from you within the next hour, I'll call back and bug you," he said with just a hint of teasing, but they both knew he was dead serious. "Jennie has been very worried for several days because she has not been able to get in touch with Hope. I trust you understand that Jennie is now frantic."

"I understand. I'll tell my husband all the details. If he's in court, his secretary will get a message to him and he can call a recess and phone you. He's just as anxious to talk to ... Hope's family as you are to talk to him. At least we know her name now."

"Uh, Ma'am, I don't know how to say this without sounding crass or something, but if there are any expenses, consider them paid. As soon as the judge calls back and gives us an address, we'll be in the air."

There was a sigh from the other end of the phone. "It's good to hear that someone cares about this girl. My husband will call soon."

"Thank you, Ma'am. We'll be waiting."

Jeff got up and pressed the Off button on the phone a second before he was slammed into by a sniffing girl who wrapped her arms around him then really cried.

Diana walked up to Jeff as he stood holding a crying Jennie. Tapping Jennie on the shoulder, "Come with us and get packed so we don't have to waste time when the judge calls back." Then to Jeff, "We'll take Jennie with us, and of course Kayla..."

Helen interrupted with, "I'm going too. I have a degree in psychology. I might be of some help to Hope."

Diana smiled at her sister-wife and started over. "We'll take Jennie, Kayla, Arlene, and Helen. I'll pack your bag for you, My Husband. We'll be ready in twenty minutes." Then to Jennie, "Wipe your eyes, Sister, let's go do something constructive. You can have our husband hold you when we're on the plane. Right now, we need to pack, and our husband has things to do."



-------

Chapter 104

Jeff turned to Frank, but he was already on another line with Reed, the helicopter pilot.

" ... I'm about ten minutes out of Boulder with an older couple on board. Fifteen minutes after we land, I'm scheduled to pick up a group of four who are bound for Fort Collins."

"Who are they?"

"Hang on a sec..." then after a moment, "A Mr. Thaddeus Snider with three more in his group."

Wainwright chuckled. "I know him. Do you have a contact number for him? I have it, but it's back in my suite."

"Yeah ... His cell is..." and Reed gave Frank the number.

"I'll call you back in a few minutes. In the meantime, as soon as you drop your fare off, get out here ASAP. Don't worry about Snider, he'll work with me on this."

"Will do."

But Wainwright didn't even hear the pilot's answer, for he was already dialing. After the call was answered and pleasantries exchanged, Frank got down to business. "Thad, one of the things we advertise for the helicopter service is our reliability, but I'm going to divert your ride and screw that up. We have a family emergency and I need that chopper for an hour or so. Your trip will be free of course, as will be the next one, to help make up for the inconvenience."

"Ah, hell, Frank, we've been gone two weeks anyway, a little more time won't hurt a bit. We can just go in the lounge and have a couple while we wait. No problem. Can I do anything to help with your family emergency?"

"You already have by letting us use the helicopter for a while."

"Take your time, Frank. Hell, you've always been good to me. We're not in a hurry, anyway."

Frank grinned as he redialed his pilot. "Pick up your fares after you get back to Boulder with my group. You will have six, plus the flight crew and security to pick up here."

Frank hung up and turned to Jeff. "Both copters are busy, but I delayed Whitmore's group. Your ride is on the way. And before you ask, it won't cause any problems. He's a nice guy and..."

" ... You did him a favor," Jeff finished for him.

Wainwright chuckled. "Every chance I get to do a favor, I do it, then sometimes I call one of those favors in. It was his turn today. No big deal."

Jill and Kathy came back into the kitchen a few minutes later pulling three cases. Jeff raised an eyebrow. "We always have a backup bag ready," Kathy said. "If we come in from a flight and immediately have to go back out, we're always ready."

-------

"Mr. Matthews, this is Judge Wiley Carver. I believe you spoke with my wife a short time ago?"

"Uh, Judge, you may not remember me..."

"I do, indeed, remember you, Mr. Matthews. I have an excellent memory, and an efficient assistant. Plus, there are several other reasons to recall you and the two girls you petitioned the court to have you become their legal guardian. By the way, how are those girls, Jennie and Melissa, as I recall?"

Jeff doubted that the judge's memory was that good, and suspected he was looking at the file. "They're fine, Sir."

"My wife tells me that our young visitor is Jennie's sister, Hope."

"Yes, Jennie is positive that the girl at your home is Hope."

"If Hope is, indeed, Jennie's sister, then it becomes obvious that Jennie and Hope's father,  Clifford Stewart, was killed in that motel room. Their last name and address are the same. There is an FBI agent on the way to my office to brief me on what they know about this girl's, uh, Hope's situation. But from what he told me on the phone, they are unable to find her mother, or any other member of the family."

"Judge, Jennie is frantic to see her sister, and if you can't find their mother, my wife and I would certainly be willing to take care of Hope. That way, the sisters could be together."

"You and I need to talk, Mr. Matthews. And I would need to talk privately with Jennie before I decide anything concerning Hope."

"I'm not sure how long it will take us to get there. The helicopter is on the way to pick us up and take us to the airport. We will leave Boulder in a private jet shortly after arriving there. I assume you want to meet us at your court..."

"Normally, yes, but the sisters need to meet in less threatening surroundings, and I don't want to take Hope out of our home environment just yet. Suppose you come to my home, instead. I think there would be less trauma for Hope, particularly considering her rather delicate mental condition right now. Also, I should have more information about what's going on after talking with the FBI."

"I'll bring Jennie, my wife and my daughter with us, plus a licensed child counselor who is also the teacher at our school. If you will give me your home address..."

The judge gave Jeff the address and his cell phone number, then asked Jeff to call with an estimated arrival time after they were on the plane.

-------

Jeff had a quick conversation with Lieutenant Mayfield via radio, which set a planned chain of events in motion. Mayfield switched channels and informed his troops, then the base.

A moment later at the old ski lodge, Mayfield stuck his head in the door and snapped out, "Carter, you're with me. Civvies. We ride with the Colonel and some of his family. His chopper is on the way from Boulder as we speak."

Ten minutes later, a black Escalade sat idling, two doors standing open, only steps from the ski lodge door. Troopers met the two as they stepped out of quarters. After grabbing Mayfield's and Carter's gear, the troopers sprinted with it down the hall and out the front where they quickly put the equipment in the waiting vehicle. Mayfield grinned as someone pushed a big thermos of coffee into Carter's hands. That wasn't part of the plan,  he thought. But it damn sure is going to be added to it. I wonder what else we missed. Hopefully not much. Shit, don't fuck up now,  he admonished himself as he slammed his door closed. The vehicle shot away before he could even give them the command.

At the base, the General sat watching the big screen as the security vehicle began to roll. Checking his watch, the frown that had adorned his face for the last few minutes gradually changed to a smile.

-------

"I just checked. Temperature is seventy-five degrees in Atlanta," Diana said as they all gathered in the living room, each of the five women pulling a small rolling case, with Arlene pulling an extra one — Jeff's.

"Should I have brought you a suit?" his Queen asked. "If you have to go to court..."

"No," Jeff said. "Casual clothes will be fine. I'm sure the judge will handle things from his home. He's obviously concerned about Hope refusing to speak and continuously staring into space."

"Jeff, she's got to come back with us," Jennie fretted. "Diana just looked it up on the web. From what we read on the news item, it was a miracle she wasn't killed in that room. What was she doing there? Daddy was a shit, but it must have been horrible to see him killed like that..."

"Easy, Baby. I didn't have much of a problem getting this same judge to see things my way when we brought you and Melissa home with us. Come on; think about it. He's taken Hope home with him — well, he and his wife have. He obviously doesn't like the foster home system. But we don't know anything about where your mother is. Maybe she left to get away from your Dad. Hope might know where she is. We still have too many variables. We're mostly guessing right now."

"But we're rid of the bastard at last," Jennie said, barely loud enough to be heard.

Melissa sat beside Jennie and hugged her, then looking at Jeff, "She's always been afraid that her father would somehow get her back. Now she doesn't have to worry about that."

"But we really don't know anything about your mother," Jeff added, looking at Jennie.

"I hope Mom is all right," Jennie quietly said.

"If we can't find your mother, I assume you want us to bring Hope back here with us?" Jeff asked, knowing the answer, but making certain.

"Yeah. With all my being, I do." A frown creased her pretty brow. "Mother could have stopped Daddy, or at least caused enough trouble to make him quit, but she didn't. He kept fucking me, and I guess he started on Hope somewhere along in there. Mother and I had several, uh..."

"Fights," Melissa offered.

"Yeah, that's close enough. Anyway, she and I were barely speaking after the night we walked in on them and you 'convinced' them to allow me to come live with you. But I don't want her dead. Oh, heck, I don't know what to think right now."

HELICOPTER APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH — IDENTIFIED AS CAPTAIN REED'S AIRCRAFT. CAPTAIN REED HAS BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO LAND, the AI said.

"Acknowledged," Jeff replied. Then to the others, "Let's go out through the inside garage. We can just walk over to the helipad, instead of using a vehicle. The wind isn't blowing and the sun is out — well, at least for the moment," he chuckled. "Dave just cleared the path and pad for us."

The rotors were barely stilled when they arrived. A couple minutes later, they were airborne.

Shortly, Bill, in the right seat to get some rotary time, said over the intercom to Reed, "Notice what's on our six?"

"You mean the Apache?"

"Yeah. That was your ride in Iraq, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Miss it?"

Reed chuckled. "I miss flying the Apache, but I damn sure don't mind not being shot at."

"Me either," Madison said. "Me either."

-------

In the jet, they had barely leveled off at altitude when Kathy's voice came over the speakers. "If you would like to see an F-22 Raptor up close, then look off our starboard wing. The pilot says he'll be with us all the way. Probably going to be a boring trip for him having to laze along at four hundred and eighty knots with us."

Shortly, the fighter flipped to a ninety degree bank and peeled away to take up station well behind them.

"Shit," Jeff said under his breath. "The General has gone nuts." Then to Diana, "Can you imagine how much money he has spent just so we can go to Atlanta?"

Carter, having overheard Jeff, and having a long association with him, said, "Ah, come on, Colonel. They have to train anyway. Those pilots are probably tickled to get to do something useful."

Jeff moved back to his seat and snuggled Jennie to him. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but it still makes me uncomfortable. It's like I'm a celebrity or something. I have to tell you guys if I'm going for a run, or we decide to go shopping. Then this."

"This sure isn't bothering us any, Colonel," Carter chuckled. "A chance to ride in a luxury aircraft beats the heck out of our ride when we went to Bismarck, eh, Sir?"

Jeff also chuckled. "Yeah, and it sure is quieter, too."

Later, Jill approached Jeff. "Bill would like to talk to you, Jeff."

"Sure," he responded, carefully easing a sleeping Jennie from his shoulder as Diana put her arms around the girl. A moment later, he leaned into the cockpit.

Captain Madison turned partially to address his Prime. "You will have an SUV waiting when we get to the airport. Kathy also asked them to make sure it has a GPS installed, in case you don't know where the judge's address is."

"I don't," Jeff said. "That will help a lot. You three..."

"We have a suite next to yours at the Airport Hilton, and security has the one on the other side of you. Looks like the temperature will be in the mid seventies when we get there, with clear skies. Shall I go with you, or wait?"

Jeff sighed. "We'll be beyond lucky if we get out of there tomorrow. The process took more than a week for Jennie and Melissa, and the parents were all there ready to sign. I have no idea how long this will take, but Hope is going home with us, one way or the other. I suggest you guys just do what you want and have a good time. I'll call you in plenty of time should things wind up faster than I anticipate. We should be back to the suite later tonight to bring you up to date on what's going on."

-------

As they pulled out of the airport with Lieutenant Mayfield and Carter following in another SUV, Arlene was on the phone with Ann. " ... I wish you could have seen it. That fighter was right alongside us. The pilot sort of waggled his wings, then just zipped away, but he stayed behind us all the way to Atlanta. It was neat, and that fighter looks sexy and ... lethal."

After they got on I-285, I've missed this — yeah, just like I would miss an abscessed tooth,  Jeff thought sardonically as traffic slowed to a halt, yet again. At least Jill talked us into eating on the plane, so we don't have to waste another hour trying to get into a restaurant.

"So you really think we'll be able to take Hope home with us?" Diana worried.

"Yeah," Jeff said, his voice changing. "This is my fault. I was concentrating on getting Jennie and Melissa home with us when we were here before, and to be truthful, I didn't think everything through about either of their families. No telling what has been going on, but it sure makes you wonder what Hope's father was up to when he managed to get himself and three other guys killed in a motel room while Hope was there with them. Not to say anything about what an FBI agent was doing there."

"I know you talked to the General on the sat phone. What did he say?"

"It was odd. He's spending resources for us to make this rushed trip — a lot of resources. I expected to get my ass chewed out, but he seemed almost ... amused. He said it was a good test of whether," Jeff glanced almost guiltily in the rearview mirror to see the other SUV following, "his people could do the job. Lieutenant Mayfield wore his helmet almost half the trip, so I know he was coordinating things." The Prime hesitated for a moment, "Crap, I didn't expect this. Our lives were a lot simpler a couple of months ago."

Forty-five minutes later on a twenty minute trip, they turned into an older area with generally large, stately homes.

ARRIVING AT DESTINATION ON RIGHT, the GPS announced.

"Well, actually our destination is in front of us," Jeff chuckled as they stopped on the circle at the end of the cul de sac, but he pulled past the driveway and parked on the street. Jennie was first out of the vehicle, but Diana quickly put a restraining hand on the girl's arm.

Frustrated, Jennie forced calm.

A black SUV, its windows tinted, cruised slowly down the street, drove past and stopped a few hundred feet farther around the circle. Lieutenant Mayfield, who had gotten out of his vehicle, gave a sign to Jeff.

"They're ours," Jeff said as they started up the driveway. I would just about bet that's an FBI vehicle,  he thought.

Just as they climbed the steps, the front door opened and an attractive woman in her early fifties, slightly thin, her hair and makeup immaculate, stepped out to greet them. "I'm Louise Carver."

Jeff introduced his group, but an impatient Jennie said, "Please,  where's my sister?"

"Jennie," Hope squealed out as she pushed past Louise to slam into Jennie. The sisters wrapped their arms around each other, tears of joy flowing from their eyes, both of them trying to talk at the same time.

"Well," Mrs. Carver said, amused, "I guess that solves any concerns about whether Hope would respond or not. Won't you please come in? My husband just called and said he would be home shortly."

It seemed that all Jeff's women, other than Kayla and Helen, were trying to hug Hope at the same time. He finally managed to get them untangled enough to get everyone inside. Shortly, Hope and Jennie were sitting on a couch with their arms still wrapped around each other. Arlene was kneeling in front of them while Kayla and Helen stood nearby, quietly watching. All the girls seemed to continue to talk at once.

Mrs. Carver graciously seated Diana, Jeff, Kayla and Helen, offering them refreshments, which they turned down for the time being. "Hope and I have eaten, but I know you had a long plane trip. It would only take a few minutes for Myra to prepare a meal for you."

"We ate on the plane," Diana assured her. "Actually, the pilots and the flight attendant live in our home with us. So we had a very nice family meal just before we landed."

They heard the front door open and someone walk down the entrance hall. Jeff came to his feet as the judge walked in. "There are two strange vehicles..."

"They're our security, Sir," Jeff said.

The judge smiled. "Mr. Matthews, I suppose that invention of yours must have had repercussions," Carver said as he held out his hand.

"Something like that, Sir," Jeff responded.

Carver nodded to the girls. "It appears they know each other," he mused, a big smile on his face.

Louise chuckled. "That's an understatement. I wish you could have been here when Hope saw her sister. It brought tears to my eyes."

"Good, I'm doubly glad we didn't let her, uh Hope, go to a foster home — even for a short while."

Jeff started to introduce everyone, but the judge interrupted, "Mrs. Matthews, good to see you again. Jennie, you're looking well, too. And ... Arlene, is it not?" he said, taking each one by the hand for a moment. "But I don't think I've met either of these young ladies," he said, holding out his hand first to Kayla, then Helen.

Jeff hastily introduced the two women. "I didn't expect you to remember us. It's been several months..."

"I told you I had a good memory. Sometimes I have to think a minute to dig up a name, but I never forget a face."

Louise smiled as she put an arm around her husband, "Don't let him kid you. He's never forgotten a name in his life."

Carver chuckled. "It comes in handy in my profession, but to be truthful, I've just spent the last hour with your family as the topic of conversation, so I've just refreshed my memory on your names." Motioning for Jeff to precede him, Carver said, "Shall we adjourn to the den and let the ladies continue their reunion?" Over his shoulder, "Louise, would you please send Myra down with some refreshment. What would you like to drink, Mr. Matthews?"

"Iced tea, if you have it. Otherwise, just a soft drink or water. No alcohol, please." Jeff felt a smug thought escape Little One at the mention of alcohol.

"Iced tea then for both of us," Carver said to his wife.

Kayla rose as if to accompany them, but Jeff said, "I'll be fine."

Kayla nodded and sat back in her chair.

A moment later as they descended the stairs and walked into the den, well out of earshot, "If you'll forgive me, you have an ... unusual bodyguard."

Jeff forced a chuckle as he sat, knowing that Carver meant Kayla. "What makes you think she's other than a friend?"

The judge sat, then leaned back and crossed his legs. "Oh, I don't know. Several things, I suppose. She obviously doesn't know Hope, but the others do — well other than Helen, and judging by her bearing, she's a professional of some type. But I'd be amazed if Kayla doesn't have a weapon in the small of her back. That open-front vest she's wearing is too warm for the weather, but it would conceal a weapon nicely. Practical shoes; her eyes, other things. And ... the fact that I received a call this afternoon that was very ... flattering to you."

The judge paused while Myra brought in a tray containing two large glasses of iced tea with a slice of lemon pushed down on the rim of each glass.

"Thank you, Myra," the judge said. "I think that will be all for now."

Myra smiled and left.

Carver sipped his tea, then locked eyes with Jeff. "I have a good relationship with the FBI here in Atlanta. When you petitioned for Jennie and Melissa, I asked an agent I know to check out your references. And by the way, where is Melissa?"

"We were limited on seating in the helicopter. She wanted to come. If you need to talk to her, we can get her on the phone."

"I might well do that when I talk to Jennie. Now back to what I was saying. As I told you before, my inquiry produced several phone calls from various police chiefs, all very complimentary of you and your work. After I talked to you on the phone earlier today, I asked that agent for an update. Your name must be flagged in the FBI's database. Within an hour, I received a return call from the agent. After his update, he told me that a General Whitworth would call me in a few minutes. The agent even sent me a photo of your ... ummm, home. Not everybody I know owns and resides in a hotel on top of a mountain. That is, indeed, a beautiful building."

"It belonged to Frank Wainwright, the person who owns the company I sold my patents to. He threw it in as part of the deal. As a matter of fact, he now lives there with us."

"And you're a retired engineer?" Carver asked. "You barely look thirty. Must be nice."

"Oh, I'm not retired. Well, not in the full sense of the word. I was a freelance engineer for a while, and yes I did give that up, but I'm working on my next invention..."

"And your first patents and possibly your current working plans have something to do with the military, I would conjecture," the judge said, raising an eyebrow. "The General tells me he sent you and your wife three girls who had no families and had been rescued from a kidnapper. He assures me that you have the inclination, not to mention the wherewithal, to care for them, or a 'hundred more.' One more would make little difference, according to him."

Jeff shrugged. "I was lucky with my invention. And yes, I have the resources to care for Hope without any strain at all on our finances. Plus we have a fine school in our home with a retired principal to run it. You just met her — Helen." Jeff hesitated, feeling guilty. "I should have asked for Hope when I was here before. Apparently, I wasn't fully cognizant of everything that was going on, though."

Carver sighed. "I suspect that no one was, and most of us still don't know the full story. To be frank with you, Mr. Matthews, Hope was dressed with barely enough clothing to cover her. According to what I have learned, her hair was done up so that she had long pigtails over her ears like a small child would have, and she was wearing an outfit that made her look even more like a little girl, but with her breasts on display and only partially covered. Not an outfit that she should have been wearing to be out with her father, or out anywhere with anyone," he added with a grimace.

"My FBI sources tell me that the agent who was shot was working undercover. He had worked his way into an organization that had been kidnapping women and girls for the slave trade. The FBI has little more information than that, or if they do, they haven't shared it with me. Two of the men who died in that motel room, other than Hope's father, were thugs. The other man is suspected of being of Iranian descent, but there are no fingerprint records of him. Hope's fingerprints aren't on file, either. One of the things that prevented early identification of her.

"Given the few facts we do know, and the way she was dressed, logic would dictate that Hope was there to be sold, or possibly prostituted, by her own father. It's amazing with the number of rounds fired in that room that she wasn't killed. I, and the head of DHR, didn't want her to be immersed in the system, particularly as traumatized as she is, or maybe, was. Just now, she seemed to be talking to her sister when we left the living room. Perhaps seeing her sister is just what she needed, and we're past the worst of it."

Jeff sat quietly for a moment, then stared at the judge, trying with all his might to convince the man. "I don't know what I can say other than, if you allow her to go with us, she'll be loved and cared for. Anyone who hurts her will have to walk through me first."

"Do you have any idea where her mother is?" Carver asked, shook, as he could swear he could feel Matthews' sincerity.

"Jennie said she hasn't talked to her mother in approximately a month. Apparently Hope didn't know where her mother was, either, or wasn't telling Jennie at that point, if she did know. Jennie thinks her mother is out of the home for some reason. The son has been living with an uncle for several weeks now, but won't tell Jennie why."

"The FBI agent tells me that the neighbors say about the same thing," Carver offered. He sat back, gently shaking his iced tea, making a rattling sound when the ice cubes struck the side of the glass, obviously thinking. "So you have come to take the young lady back with you?"

"I'll do whatever it takes," Jeff said, his voice determined, "but we want her to go home with us. The sisters need to be together."

"Then you and your wife need to meet me in my chambers at ten in the morning," Carver said, his mind made up. "Now tell me about this ... hotel you live in. Is there any place to ski near there?"

Jeff breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Yes," he answered. "We have a small ski slope in our back yard, and Winter Park, only a few miles away, has a number of very nice ski resorts and slopes."

"We haven't skied in years. But my wife and I spent a vacation in Vail once upon a time, and we certainly had fun. I don't know why we never went again. Maybe it's time to correct that."

"Damn straight," Jeff said, a grin splitting his face.



-------

Chapter 105

Jeff and the judge chatted for a while, then, "Despite all your references, I would be remiss if I didn't speak to Jennie and Melissa. Would you please return to the living room and send Jennie to see me."

Jeff, having expected it, got to his feet, "Sure," he said.

In the living room, Jeff caught Jennie's eye. "Judge wants to see you in the den. Down the steps and to the left. You can't miss it."

As Jennie got up, Diana pulled Hope to her, and Helen moved to sit on the other side of the girl. As Jeff neared, Hope seemed to try to get even closer to Diana. The Queen shifted her gaze to a nearby chair, so Jeff took the hint and changed his course a bit. Diana's eyes caught his for a second as he sat, and she shook her head ever so slightly. Jeff smiled and began to chat with the judge's wife.

Myra brought Jeff a cup of coffee, then smiled and said, "Your wife assured me that you would never turn down a cup."

Jeff chuckled and joked, "Oh, I only drink three or four pots a day. It's the elixir of life in the early morning, and it's not bad for the rest of the day, either."

Mrs. Carver laughed and said, "My husband always has an insulated carafe sitting on his desk."

As Myra left, Louise turned serious. "She's been with us ten years. She moved in when her mother died. For all practical purposes, Myra is part of our family. Wiley and I would be lost without her."

They continued to talk, and Helen joined in telling Louise about Helen's school, but Hope said nothing, just sat snuggled to Diana as she (Hope) waited impatiently for Jennie.

Jennie was gone for about twenty minutes, but came back smiling as she spoke to Jeff. "I got Melissa on the phone, and Judge Carver talked to both of us. He's really nice."

Helen moved over so Jennie could sit back by Hope.

"He would like to speak with you now," Jennie said to Helen.

"Of course," Helen replied, standing.

As Helen left for the den, Hope turned to Jennie. "Is he going to let me go with you?" Hope worried aloud; the first thing Jeff had heard her say after he had returned to the living room.

Jennie patted Hope's hand. "I'm almost positive he is. Well, at least until the police can find our mother."

"I don't care about that. I want to go with you," she whined, then in a rush, her voice trembling as she fought back tears, "I don't know where she is. I got up one morning and she wasn't there. Daddy was evasive about it when I asked him. Then later when I kept asking, he told me to just shut up about it. I don't know whether he's done something to her, or if she just decided to leave. I know they had been fighting a lot, but they would never tell me why." There was another long pause as she looked down at her lap, then, "I hated my Father. I'm glad he's dead, but his ... brains splattered all over..." As she chopped the sentence off, a small gasp escaped her, and tears flowed down her cheeks.

"It's all right now, Baby. It's all right," Diana kept repeating as she pulled the crying girl against her shoulder. Jennie wrapped her arms around Hope and cried with her.

A few minutes later, Judge Carver, accompanied by a smiling Doctor Boswell, came back into the living room. "Is there anything..." the judge started to ask.

"Yes," Diana said, standing. As she walked past the judge, she motioned for him to follow her. In the hallway and out of earshot, she turned to him, "I don't know what the legal aspects are for all this, but Jennie, my daughter Arlene, and Melissa have been close their entire lives, even though Hope is younger. We didn't bring Melissa with us due to the seating capacity of the helicopter. I've known Hope all her life. She needs someone she knows and trusts. I promise you we will care for her and love her as part of our family. I don't know how long the paperwork will take, but she needs to go to the hotel with us tonight. Half of what you're seeing right now is because she's afraid we'll leave here without her, but..."

Jeff stepped into the hallway with Diana and the judge, having heard most of the conversation with his excellent hearing, as Diana knew he would. Jeff stopped beside the judge, putting his hand on the judge's shoulder, "Whatever we need to do, we'll do it," Jeff said, finishing what Diana was about to tell the judge.

Carver smiled, "I had the paperwork started before you even got here. I just needed to talk with Jennie and Melissa. We'll finalize everything in my office in the morning. And by the way, I was thoroughly impressed with Doctor Boswell. You're fortunate to have her."

"Yes, we are," Jeff agreed. The Prime hesitated for a second. "And if Hope's mother does show up?" he asked.

The judge's countenance took on a stern air, "I and the head of DHR will have some serious questions for Mrs. Stewart. Hope is almost sixteen, according to the FBI agent. If she wants to live with you and your wife, even if her mother shows up and disagrees, there are several legal avenues left to pursue, particularly since the mother appears to have abandoned her children. To understate, something is drastically wrong with this young lady's family. And I agree; she is obviously desperate to go with her sister. Her father was most probably ... whoring her out," he snarled. "And the undercover agent was investigating a slavery organization. It seems reasonable to assume there is an excellent possibility that her father was going to sell her to that foreign person. That's what the FBI agent I talked to thinks, and he says Hope would probably have been out of the country in a couple of days, and would never have been heard from again."

The judge took a breath. "My wife and I could never have children, although we adopted two who became our own. They're in college now, and our nest is empty, thus our quick response when I realized that Hope was destined to be immersed in the system. And this ... person was selling his daughter into slavery. I want Hope out of this city and away from any possibility that this group of slavers can get to her..."

"I swear to you I will guard her with my life," Jeff said, again striving with a mental push to put all the emotion that he could behind his words. "And ... we have excellent security. No one will approach our home without us being aware of the potential intrusion. No one will ever hurt this young lady again."

The judge sighed again, "I'm going to hold you to that. I want your contact numbers and your room number at your hotel. You and your wife bring Hope to my office in the morning. I'm not foolish enough to force her to stay here tonight after she's seen her sister. Just make damn sure you take care of her. I'll handle the legal side of things."

"Thank you, Sir," Jeff quietly said.

Diana grabbed Carver and hugged him as hard as she could, then pulled his face down and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

The judge's face flushed, and Jeff was hard pressed to keep his own face straight, knowing Carver had just gotten himself one heck of a titty press, even though it had been toned down some by the bra Diana was wearing.

When Diana was back in the living room, she sat beside Hope and whispered in her ear. "You're going with us."

"Tonight?" Hope whispered back, her face brightening.

"Yep. Tonight, then after we do the paperwork tomorrow, we'll go home to Colorado either tomorrow afternoon or the next morning, depending on when we get everything done with the judge."

"And I'm going with you, right? You're not going to let me be put in a foster home?"

Diana hugged her. "No Baby. You're positively going home with us. No foster home — ever."

-------

Louise quickly packed the few clothes and makeup she had bought for Hope. When Diana saw the nice overnight case, suspecting that it came from a matched set of luggage, she started to make a comment, but Louise shook her head, Diana understanding that Louise wanted Hope to take the case, also.

Hope gave a hug and a heart-felt, "Thank you," to Louise, but managed only a shallow nod to the judge with a timid-sounding, "Thank you," her eyes remaining downcast as she spoke.

"You're welcome here anytime, Hope," he said, not approaching her, aware that she was continuing to have a problem with being close to a man. He hoped she would get over it soon.

At the door, Kayla subtly stepped around Jeff to be first out. As soon as they were out on the porch, Lieutenant Mayfield and Carter stepped out of their vehicle. Judge Carver, noticing, raised an eyebrow at Jeff. "Looks like that general liked whatever you invented," he smirked.

HOSPITAL

GET THING OUT THROAT, Hanes scrawled across the white board.

The doctor was so proud of Hanes' progressing recovery that if he (the doctor) had a tail he would have wagged it. "I think we need to wait for you to get a bit stronger..."

NOW!!! Hanes scrawled as fast as his weak and shaking hand would scribble.

The doctor motioned to the two nurses, and the three stepped out of the room. "He seems to be gaining strength rapidly. I had planned to wean him to CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) first, but I'm beginning to think he's strong enough to breathe on his own?" he finished, obviously wanting the nurses' opinion as well.

Sandra glanced at Bobby, then, "He's adamant about having the tube out. We could always try him to see if he can breathe on his own."

"If he has problems," Bobby chimed in, "we can always re-intubate." Bobby had stayed over a little while in hopes of being there when Hanes came off the ventilator.

"All right. Do it. But be sure to tell him that he will get the tube back if he needs it."

Both nurses grinned, and a few minutes later, they stood by Hanes' bed. Preparing to use a 10 cc syringe to remove the air from the ETT (Endo Tracheal Tube), Sandra stopped to look at their patient. "You will have to have at least two more surgeries as soon as you're a little stronger, but we pushed the doctor a little and he has agreed to let you try to get along without a ventilator. If you start having problems breathing, though, the tube goes back in. Understood?"

Hanes quickly nodded.

"I want a big cough to help as I pull this, and pulling the tube may make you cough a little bit, also," Sandra said, knowing full well what was going to happen. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bobby smirk. "Now cough!" Sandra ordered. As Hanes coughed, Sandra pulled the tube from his trachea, which produced a paroxysm of coughing from Hanes. He moaned and locked his good arm across his chest. When the coughing died down, and a white-faced Hanes could concentrate on what Sandra was saying, "I'm sorry, but the coughing is necessary. I know it hurts, but you're going to have to do a lot of it. While you were on the ventilator, we cleared the secretions from your lungs by using a Ballard suction system."

Bobby broke in to continue, "But with the tube out of your throat, you now have to clear the secretions yourself. That's what coughing does. Not coughing is not an option."

When Hanes nodded, looking at first one and then the other of the nurses while fighting back another cough, "Your throat may be a little bit sore," Sandra added ever so sweetly.

Hanes quickly decided that the young nurse was a mistress of understatement.

Sandra watched his pulse oximetry readings for a moment, then paid particular attention to Hanes' breathing to make sure he wasn't using accessory muscles, nor was he working hard to breathe. Finally, glancing at her sister, who nodded, she said, "I know it is hard to do, so I'm going to help you to cough. I'll be back in just a moment."

Hanes stared after the pretty nurse. I don't need any help coughing. I don't want to cough. It fucking hurts too much,  he thought.

Shortly, she was back from the supply PYXIS (A computerized, secure supply device for storing medical supplies and drugs) with an incentive spirometer in her hands. Assembling the equipment, she said, "This little gadget is something that you're going to have to use every hour that you're awake for the next day or two. And for the first night or so, I'll wake you a couple of times for you to use this."

"And ... I'll expect you to use it regularly during my shift," Bobby said.

Sandra continued, "Again, this isn't optional. If you want to stay off the ventilator, you are going to have to do a little bit of work. You've had enough fun, and you don't need more. Fun being pneumonia, or going back on the vent," she teased.

Hanes nodded as he stared at the simple-appearing device. Looks like she wants me to blow in that tube,  he thought. That shouldn't be any real problem.

Sandra held the machine up. "I want you to put your lips firmly around this mouthpiece. See this little white thing here? I want you to suck in air through your mouth like your sucking a thick malt through a straw. I've placed this band at fifteen hundred cc's. See here. Make this white indicator area rise up until you reach at least fifteen hundred here where I've marked, then continue to pull air into your lungs and hold the white area at or above fifteen hundred for as long as you can. Okay?"

Hanes tried to do as she said. The indicator rose to five hundred, and he stopped for a small cough, more a hack than anything else. Sandra was expecting it, of course. Teasing him, she said, "I've had very sick little gray-haired ladies do more than that. You're a big, tough young man. Give me a minimum of fifteen hundred and hold that indicator there by continuing to pull air into your lungs. You have got to cough now. No more of that throat clearing, but a real from-the-belly type of cough."

Hanes male ego dropped into gear. He held his good arm tightly over his chest and sucked as hard as he could. He finally got the indicator to fifteen hundred as the nurses chanted in unison, "Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Don't stop. Don't stop. Hold it there. Hold it there." Suddenly the coughing hit — real coughing.

Sandra smiled as she watched. "Good! You did really well! Now you need to do the same thing a few more times." The little old lady bit always works for young males,  she thought as she continued to urge their patient. Our patient is going to live. Then, when the coughing died down, "Again, you have to do this ten times every hour you're awake. We can't stress its importance enough. I'll leave the spirometer here in easy reach when I leave, but let's do it again now. And remember, your lungs stay clear, or the breathing tube goes back in. It's up to you."

I don't want that damn tube down my throat,  Hanes thought as he pushed the air out of his lungs, then with the mouth piece back in his mouth, he sucked air in as hard as he could. Shortly, the coughing started again. She said to do this ten times every hour I'm awake ... maybe I can just sleep a lot. If they weren't so darned pretty I wouldn't let them get away with this torture. When the coughing stopped, he grimly willed himself to try for two thousand cc's this time.

THE RETREAT

Selina, sitting alone in her suite, prepared an e-mail which listed all the things she wanted the servants to send her. As soon as she hit Send, she picked up the phone and dialed. When Michael answered, she told him about the e-mail she had just sent, then asked him to call the other servants together and put the phone on Speaker so she could talk to everyone at once. For the next fifteen minutes, she told them about everything that had happened to her in her beautiful new home and school. She assured them that she had already become part of a great family. "Just box everything up and send it 'Second Day.' I have enough clothing with me to manage until then. You may reach me at this number, should you need me," she finished. She fought back tears as they all told her goodbye, making her promise to call regularly.

As she hung up the phone, she thought, Odd that I will miss the servants more than I will miss my parents.

-------

"So," Haynes said, his voice no longer sounding as much like a croak after having used the spirometer several times. "I guess you two aren't angels after all."

"So you really thought we were angels?" Sandra laughed as she grinned at Bobby.

Haynes tried to chuckle, but was reminded again how sore his throat was, not to mention the pain from his shoulder, or from his back where the surgeon had repaired his kidney.

Grigsby walked in. "I see our hero is back among the living," he said, smiling at the young agent.

"Yeah," Hanes croaked out, "but it feels like I've been run over by an eighteen wheeler."

"So you remember me, then?" Grigsby said. "You weren't conscious long when I was in here before."

"Well, I know who you said you were," Hanes very quietly said. "But I've never met you before that."

"Could you give us a minute, Ladies? I would really appreciate it."

"Five minutes," Sandra said as she snapped a look at Grigsby.

"Yes, Ma'am," he returned as both nurses frowned at him, then left the room, sliding the door closed behind them.

Grigsby stepped closer to the bed. "I know you're weak, but if you can, please give me at least a synopsis of why you and the others were in that room and what happened. Make it short, though, I don't want to suffer the wrath of those two," he tried to joke, but even he wasn't sure he was kidding. He could see the two nurses standing about ten feet on the other side of the glass wall, waiting.

"The girl?" Hanes got out, his hoarse voice worsening.

"Hope. Her name is Hope. The family court judge just told me that several hours ago, she called her older sister who lives with a family in Colorado. The family is here now and will probably take her home with them. We have no idea where her mother is. The family court judge and his wife have been taking care of Hope. She's going to be fine. Now we need to get you well, and I need to know what happened in that room."

Hanes gave Grigsby a brief description of what happened, but drifted off to sleep before the ASAC could ask any questions.

The two nurses came back in when they saw that their patient was asleep. Sandra touched Grigsby's shoulder to get his attention. "We know that you need to talk to your agent, but his recovery has been little short of miraculous so far. He's still desperately weak, though, and he needs a lot of rest and time to heal."

"Tomorrow?" Grigsby asked.

"Not before ten," Bobby said. "And I can't even guarantee that. We have to get him stronger so the surgeon can operate on him."

"I'll be here at ten. I won't push, but I need to debrief him. I have brass all the way up to the director on my butt."

The two nurses frowned in unison. "Okay," Grigsby chuckled. "I'm gone."

"You need to get out of here, too," Sandra told Bobby. "I'll see you in the morning."

Bobby shrugged. "Let him nap for a bit, and we'll see if he wakes up again before I have to go. I'm not sleepy yet. I'll hang for a while."

-------

Helen leaned up from the middle seat of the vehicle to whisper in Jeff's ear. "We should visit a mall. It's only eight o'clock, and we need to pick up a few things for Hope."

Jeff, wanting nothing more than to get back to their hotel suite, take a shower and put his feet up, forced a smile. "Your timing is good. We'll get off at the next exit."

When they parked in the big lot, Jeff thought about just staying in the vehicle, but he suspected that Kayla wanted to go with the women, but wouldn't because of her duties to him. Not wanting to stress Hope any more than she already was, he hopped out of the vehicle first, then kidded the women about being slow.

Diana looked at her husband, knowing how much he hated shopping. Smiling, she leaned over to whisper in Kayla's ear. "He's a good actor. He's thinking of Hope, you know, otherwise he would be bitching about us having everything in the world already."

Kayla chuckled quietly. "Helen had a great idea. As far as I know, just about every woman loves to shop — not to mention spending money. This should help Hope get her mind off those awful things that have happened to her."

Everyone started toward the mall entrance, Hope holding Jennie's hand.

Inside the mall, the women headed for Macy's. Jeff bought a paper and was about to sit on a bench just outside the store, when Diana said, "Don't even think about it."

I'm hen pecked. Hmmm, can you be pussy pecked? he thought, barely suppressing the snigger that almost got away. Then as he followed the group, Damn, that's a sexy bunch of women, but I'll be amazed if I get any pussy tonight? Oh, well, it's not as if I don't usually get it any time I want it.

Jeff had smiled to himself as Jennie pressed a credit card into Hope's hand, but Hope, hesitant, had bought little with it. He had watched as Diana subtly guided Hope through the store, buying her a nice outfit to wear to the judge's office, pooh-poohing the price when Hope tried to suggest a cheaper one. During a trip to the lingerie department, where Hope insisted she already had something to sleep in, Diana smiled at her while holding up a very nice set of pajamas that were very pretty, but covered everything, "You're one of us now," the Queen had insisted. After thinking a moment, she continued, "We need to get you a nice pair of shoes for tomorrow, but when we get home, we'll go on a major shopping expedition and get you outfitted."

Shopping therapy,  Jeff had mused to himself.

Diana winked at him, obviously suspecting what he was thinking.

Hope seemed to try to keep one of the women between Jeff and herself all the time, but it wasn't blatant as she did so. Jeff seethed inside, not at Hope, but the bastard who had made her that way. The judge had told Jeff what the FBI agent had said, but still, there was a lot to be left to speculation about what had happened in that motel room.

I would love to read the FBI's report,  Jeff thought. I wonder if I can talk the General into getting me a copy?

Diana came up and grabbed his hand, interrupting his speculations. "I know we're going to have to drag you away from here," she teased. "But we've done enough damage for tonight. Time to get back to the hotel."

"But I wanted to browse through another store and not buy anything," he said, pretending to pout.

"Don't push it, Bub," his mate laughed. "We could always find another store that is open late." Laughing, she tugged him toward the exit as he pretended he didn't want to go.

Hope looked on, a smile almost touching her lips as she watched their play.

-------

In the suite, Jeff got Diana aside. "How are we going to do this?" he asked.

"I'm just going to tell her you're married to all of us," Diana said. At the look of shock on Jeff's face, she giggled. "No, Silly. One bedroom has two queen-sized beds, and the other one has a king. The shopping trip served several purposes. One, it got her attention onto something mundane and off of — at least to some extent — what has happened to her. Also, it, accompanied with everything else, got her tired out a bit so that bed will be a little more inviting. Jennie will sleep with her, and Arlene and Helen can sleep in the other queen. I, of course, will sleep with my husband, and Kayla can pretend to sleep in the sitting room on the couch. It folds down into a bed. Of course, she'll sneak into our room as soon as Hope is asleep. Once we're home, we'll sit Hope down and tell her the truth."

"All right," Jeff sighed. "I just don't want anything to go wrong. I doubt if the judge would be very sympathetic if he realized I'm sleeping with..."

"Maybe not," Diana interrupted. "But I suspect that Myra is a lot more than just their housekeeper."

"Ah, come on Di. He's a judge for crying out loud. The guy is as straight-laced as..."

"I saw Louise and Myra lock eyes several times. They were reading our body language. I think, that at least to some extent, your wives are transparent to someone who is doing the same thing. Also, the judge's eyes softened when he spoke to Myra. I can't swear they're having sex, but there's more to their relationship than just boss to housekeeper, or cook, or whatever they call her."

"Maybe you're right. I just don't want anything to happen until we can get out of here."

"Okay," Diana said, her hand sliding down toward his groin. "I'll bite down on a pillow tonight. Will that be good enough?" she giggled. "Besides, you need to have Little One check Hope out. With Hope under Little One's spell, the hotel could burn down and Hope wouldn't wake. I've already told Jennie to come get you when Hope goes to sleep. Besides, you don't really think your other wives are going to do without tonight, do you?"

-------

An hour later, Jennie opened the bedroom door to find Diana deeply asleep, her right leg thrown over Jeff's and her breasts pushed against his side. The bedcovers were tangled, matching her long hair.

Frowning, Jennie pointed at a pillow laying beside her Queen. "Did she use the pillow to blot her lipstick?" Jennie laughed.

Jeff turned his head to look. "Uh, I think she used the pillow as a ... gag."

"A gag?" Then as realization struck, "Oh. Uh, I guess I understand. Well, anyway, Hope is sound asleep."

"I'll put the Healer on her," Jeff said as he stood and pulled on his jeans, then had Little One change shape. With her in his hand, he quietly left their bedroom, crossed the sitting room and eased the other bedroom door open. Little One, already having been prompted, released her blue beams toward Hope. The girl sighed, her breathing deepening as Little One took over.

Jeff returned a couple minutes later with Helen, Arlene and Kayla following, all smiling. Jennie was already lying beside a now awake Diana.

"No use us doing without now that Hope is out for the count," Arlene said as she stripped off her negligee and pounced on her husband.



-------

Chapter 106

TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 22 — THE AIRPORT HILTON

Hope awoke with her usual dread of the coming day. Odd,  she thought, as feelings of well-being seem to flood her, tending to override the fear. For months now, she had hated to get up in the mornings. What will that bastard make me do...  Her memory struggled to awaken, her mind swimming aimlessly for an instant before everything came flooding back. I'm with Jennie now. Daddy is dead. I'm free. I don't have to fuck anybody, and ... I don't have to act like a little girl to those awful men.

A jolt of adrenaline hit. Jennie. Where's Jennie? She slammed to a sitting position as she desperately looked to her right at the lump under the sheet.

In the dim light, Jennie threw the sheet back and pulled her tousled hair out of her face to stare back at her sister, then she sat up, too. "Hope, what's wrong?"

"It's real," Hope mumbled. Then louder, "It's really real. I thought for a second that I had just dreamed that you came to get me." Tears began to flow.

Helen sat on the bed beside the girls as Jennie hugged her sister. "We're here for you, Hope. All of us. The judge will sign the papers this morning and we'll all go home — a fabulous home where you will always be safe."

"Mrs. Matthews? Where is Mrs. Matthews?"

"Diana," Jennie interrupted. "You've always called her Diana, remember? She's never let us call her Mrs. Matthews since we were any size at all. She says it sounds too stuffy. She's in the other bedroom with Jeff."

Hope pulled back a little from Jennie and looked down at herself — at the expensive pajama set that Diana had bought for her. She wasn't certain about the material, but it seemed to be silk. It felt wonderful to her skin. She felt so ... feminine in the outfit. That thought brought back another flood of memories, but she realized that she wasn't sore anymore. Lately, her body had been sore more than not. Some of those awful men had rammed into her dry pussy. Others had jammed their cocks down her throat, and laughed when she gagged. She had to play the virgin for them, or her father would punish her in ways too sadistic to even think about. He went crazy,  she thought. He was crazier every day. I'm glad he's dead. But my ears still ring from all those horrible gunshots in that motel room. But she suddenly realized that her ears actually didn't ring anymore. Her thoughts continued, anyway ... and his blood. His ... brains. I can still feel them sticking to me. I need to shower again. I need to get myself clean... 

"Hope, look at me," Jennie said, her face close. Jennie glanced at Helen and the woman gave a slight nod. "How do you feel this morning, My Sister? Good, I'll bet," Jennie said, laughter in her voice, remembering the wonderful feeling of the morning after Little One had enhanced her. "This is going to be a great day." You'll always feel this good, My Sister. Little One will make sure of that,  she thought.

"It's real," Hope said/asked. "I don't have to go back home? I can go with you? I can live with you always?"

"Yes. Home will be with us. You can always be with us. It's your home now, too."

Arlene sat on the other side of Hope. "I know that Jennie has told you, but we live on a mountain. The snow is deep and we can ski or ride snowmobiles, or do most anything we want. When you're a little older, we can teach you to drive the pickup and plow out our driveway. I do it all the time, and I love to do it. It makes you feel so... powerful to drive that big truck. We have a game room with every game you could imagine. And Helen here," she said, smiling at Doctor Boswell, "is our teacher. We study just like at any other school, but we do fun things, too. She's the coolest teacher in the whole world. You can have a suite for yourself, if you want it, and it is so pretty it makes this one look shabby in comparison. And speaking of that, you should see the Retreat where we live. There aren't words to describe it."

Hope sat, worried. I want to believe what they say, but... 

Diana walked in wearing a robe. Stopping at the door to bring the light up, she looked at the group. Obviously freshly showered, her hair in a towel, she smiled and said, "Oh, good. Everyone is up already. What shall we do? Should we order from room service, or should we go out? There's a nice restaurant here in the hotel, or we can find someplace else."

Room service brought back memories to Hope, unpleasant memories, and Diana noticed the look that crossed the girl's face as she (Diana) mentioned it. Smoothly changing tack, "What about it ladies? Shall we sample the restaurant? As early as it is, we have time to get ready, eat a leisurely breakfast, and still have plenty of time to get to the judge's chambers by ten."

Jennie jumped to her feet. "Come on, Hope. Let's try out that big shower you were too tired to check out last night. If you want, I'll wash your back. Remember how we used to take a shower together every now and then? Or you can shower alone, if you've gotten bashful." Jennie had time for one worried glance over her shoulder before the two girls disappeared into the shower area.

The Queen and the genius locked eyes for a moment, concern evident on both their faces.

In the big shower, Jennie chattered away, trying to keep Hope's mind off what had happened to her. Jennie continued to lightly tease as she dropped her own sleepwear on the floor. Hope, hesitant, turned her back as she slipped her top off. There was a moment's hesitation as she looked down at her bruised breasts, except ... there was no bruising. She stared at herself, unconsciously hissing in a breath.

"What's wrong?" Jennie quickly asked.

"Uh," Hope said, continuing to stare down at herself.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Jennie asked again, thinking the worst, afraid that she knew.

"Nothing," Hope said. "It ... I ... Uh. Nothing."

"Come on, Hope, I know something is wrong," Jennie said, stepping up beside her sister to take her arm and turn her gently toward the older girl. Then, "Oh, you look really nice, Little Sister," Jennie said, smiling. "You've grown a lot, and in all the right places," she teased.

Hope tore her eyes away from her own perfect breasts to stare at her sister, puzzlement evident on her face, then back down at herself, "My ... breasts. I had bruises — a lot of them. I know how long they take to go away, but ... suddenly they're just gone. I'm positive they were there when I put on my new outfit last night. The bruises were just starting to change color. I wouldn't let the nurse see me at the hospital. The paramedics told her I hadn't been hit by a bullet, so she showed me to a bathroom to clean up, then got me a change of clothes from somewhere. Afterward, she put me in one of those little rooms with the curtains all around. There were a lot of patients coming in from a big fight, and the nurse must have gotten busy, because she never came back. Anyway, this lady who said she was from DHR, came and got me, signed some paperwork and took me with her. Later the judge and his wife took me home with them. I heard the judge's wife telling someone that I was in shock and couldn't talk. Everything just seemed like a dream after that motel room.

"The bruises should have been there for at least a week, but they're just ... gone. And ... I'm not sore anymore — not at all. Not anywhere," she finished, realizing that her sex was not hurting this morning. Her thoughts continued with, And, I don't hurt anywhere. It seems — odd — to be without pain. What's happened to me? Am I dreaming? Will Daddy come in to wake me up and tell me I have to go fuck somebody? Am I crazy?

Jennie, almost seeming to be reading Hope's mind, grabbed her sister in a hug. After a moment, she pulled back to look at the younger girl. But Hope pushed her hands down her own sides, and looked at herself again, then cupped her breasts to marvel at her no-longer-chewed nipples, before pushing her bottoms off. "Jennie, I, uh. I feel good. I mean really good. I felt bad and I hurt last night. I just wanted to lie down, but I dreaded getting up this morning. I mean, I always dread getting up. But now, I feel ... so really, really good. It's ... wonderful. What's happened to me? How could my bruises just ... go away?" I don't hurt inside, either,  she thought.

Jennie grabbed her sister and hugged her tight. "I can't tell you now. But I'll be able to soon. Just trust me, please. Let's get those papers signed and you back home with us."

"Jennie, I ... Daddy always said to just trust him. Then if I argued, he punished me."

"He's dead, Hope. He'll never hurt you again. No one will ever hurt you again. I promise, Hope. You know that I never break a promise. Remember? Not once. Not ever. Now come on. Let's get cleaned up so Helen and Arlene can shower, too. We have a great day ahead of us."

-------

The women and girls continued with light banter as they dressed and put on makeup, Diana standing back and unobtrusively observing as Hope expertly applied hers. But Hope caught Diana's eye in the mirror. Blushing, her voice little above a whisper, Hope stammered, "I don't have to try to look younger than I am any more. Those awful men..." She chopped the sentence off.

" ... Will never hurt you again," the Queen said, stepping over to hug Hope from behind. Then looking at her in the mirror, Diana stuck her foot in her mouth, "You do a really good job with your makeup." She knew she had screwed up as soon as the supposed compliment was out of her mouth, because she felt Hope tense.

"Yeah. Daddy sent this woman to teach me. He punished me if I didn't look young enough."

"I'm sorry I brought back a bad memory, Baby. But you don't have to use makeup for that purpose anymore, and as pretty as you are, you don't have to use it at all, unless you just want to. And most women do," she teased, almost desperate to see Hope smile again.

Hope turned around to face the Queen. "Mrs. Matthews..."

"Diana," the Queen emphasized. "Why so formal? I'm still just Diana. We haven't been gone that long. My husband has a little more money now, but I'm still just Diana."

"But..."

"What Baby?"

"You look so young. Not that you ever looked old," she quickly amended, "but you look young and so ... beautiful. Oh, you've always been pretty, but somehow..."

"Someday soon we'll have a nice chat," the Queen answered. "I can't say more right now, but when we get back to the retreat, we'll have a long talk. There are a lot of fascinating things that you'll want to hear. Oh, we have such a good time ahead of us. Now finish with that pretty face and let's see what that fabulous restaurant has for us. The last time we ate here, they had a very nice breakfast bar." She chuckled and added, "And another nice thing is that we don't have to cook."

-------

Jeff and Kayla were relaxing in the suite's living room when Hope and the others came out of the second bedroom. Hope's step faltered ever so slightly as she saw the Prime, but Helen was watching for anything. Casually leaning over so that her mouth was close to Hope's ear as the others greeted Jeff, Helen whispered, "He's not like your dad. Jeff is the reason we were able to be here so quickly. He's also the reason this will only take a day, instead of months while you would have been consigned to a foster home you would probably have hated as the attorneys and the judges lazed through the paperwork. Jeff blames himself for not having pushed to take you back with us before. I give you my word that he will never hurt you. More than that, he'll always be your protector."

Hope unconsciously bit her lip, wanting to believe, but the tall man was intimidating. Something had changed about him since she had seen him last. She had known him most of her life, off and on, but he was seldom home for any length of time. She knew that Arlene and Diana had always loved him, and frequently talked about him, but somehow, he was ... different from the man she remembered from a few months ago. He turned a smiling gaze on her, and she felt the same thing she had last night at the judge's house when he came near — fear, awe, something. Somehow, she wanted to ... almost preen, to strut when he looked at her. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind. Will I measure up? Embarrassed, she looked down. What's wrong with me? He's a man. All men want to fuck me — to hurt me. He's no different.

Jennie took her hand as Jeff looked away, said something to Kayla that Hope didn't catch. A few minutes later, she found herself, mind awhirl, being hustled into the elevator with everyone, Jennie's hand firmly clasping hers.

In the elevator, she tried to pretend that Jeff wasn't there, but she knew he was standing in the corner of the elevator farthest away from her. She managed to keep one of the women or girls between herself and Jeff, hopefully without being obvious about it. She knew he meant well — but she had been hurt so much lately, and it was men who had hurt her.

In the restaurant, they all decided to have the breakfast bar. Her plate full, she returned to the table, walking just behind Jennie. Jeff seemed to not notice, but he was suddenly behind her. Without saying anything, he seated her, then Jennie to her right, and Diana to her left. He never touched her, but somehow, she felt him as if he had. Confused, she began to eat, at first, timidly, then her appetite soared, and she had to force herself to slow down lest she gobble her food. She was hungry, voraciously hungry; she had never been this hungry in her life.

A smile touched Jeff's lips as he noticed Hope's appetite, then knowing where it came from, told Little One thank you.

Conversation flourished, but it seemed to Hope that everyone was overemphasizing that things were going to be just fine. She hoped they would be. She was not going back to what had been happening to her during the past months. She had already made up her mind before the motel that she would use any means at all to stop what was going on — anything. She was not a whore. She would not continue, no matter what she had to do to stop it. Life wasn't worth it.

Hope realized that she was staring at her empty plate when Diana's hand gently covered hers. "Why don't we go get a plate of fruit? Those strawberries look delicious, and I imagine you're still hungry. I know I am."

At the bar, they each picked up a chilled metal plate for their fruit. Diana took tongs and put two pieces of cantaloupe on Hope's plate. Hope spooned strawberries in a thick sauce, beside the cantaloupe, then picked up several watermelon balls and added them to her plate, also.

The Queen and Hope were the only people at the bar for the moment. Diana stood close by as Hope chose chunks of fresh pineapple. "This morning will pass. A lot of people love you. Soon, we'll be on a private jet on the way back to Colorado — home. Home, where you will be safe forever. You will be in our school. You won't even have to leave the Retreat. You'll be with Jennie, Ann, Arlene and Melissa.

Back at the table and seated, Arlene reached over and put her hand over Hope's. Diana put her hand atop the other two. Hope started. It was almost as if she felt a shock. "You are one of us now," the Queen said. Somehow it almost seemed a proclamation.

She felt Jeff's eyes on her and looked toward him. "You're family now," he said. "Never doubt that. Never."

Hope felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. Family? Can it really be possible? Can I have a family again, just like when I was a little girl? She blinked rapidly trying to forestall the tears from overflowing her eyes. It's almost as if I can feel their love for me. It can't be. That can't happen, but still... 

-------

The closer they got to the court, the more tense Hope became, no matter how many times she was told that the outcome was already decided. Diana, Helen and Jennie accompanied her, with Jeff, of course, to the judge's office where he formally asked her if she wished to go with Jeff and Diana, explaining in general terms the legalities of what was happening. At first, she felt her voice shutting down, but Jennie squeezed her hand, encouraging her. She remembered what Diana and Jeff had said at the breakfast table, and, gathering her courage was able to speak out.

"Yes. Yes, I want to go live with the Matthews and my sister. I want it more than anything I can remember."

Carver almost seemed relieved.

Shortly, she was sitting in an anteroom with Jennie and the others while Jeff and Diana completed the paperwork with the judge, his assistant and his secretary. Shortly, Carver's office door opened and Diana walked over to Hope. "Ready to go home?" she softly said.

Their exodus was delayed while the women eventually fixed their spoiled makeup.

-------

An hour into the flight back, Hope saw the pilot (Bill, she thought his name was) come into the passenger compartment, sit and motion to Jill. Jill came over and knelt in front of Hope, looking up at her and smiling. "Want to sit in the pilot's seat for a little while?"

Hope tensed up, but Jennie encouraged, saying, "Go on. It's fun. You can see so much better from up there."

"But..."

Jill smiled encouragingly. "Kathy will be there with you, and it's certainly okay with Bill. It was his idea, even. That's the reason he came back here. But Kathy is flying the plane, and Bill is going to stay back here for a while and chat with us," Jill tactfully said, knowing that Hope wasn't too keen on males just now. Then added, "One of these days, I'll share my story with you. But that's for the future. Why don't you let me take you up front? There's nothing to be afraid of, and I guarantee that you will enjoy it, and you'll remember it for a long time to come."

"Go," Jennie encouraged.

Jill took Hope forward and helped her get into Bill's seat. Kathy, who had been busy on the radio, turned to her as Jill left. "A new sector controller just took over our flight," Kathy said as if that explained what she had been saying on the radio. The statement told Hope absolutely nothing.

Fifteen minutes later, a smiling Hope sat back next to Jennie. "She's so smart," the teenager said, "and so confident. Oh, I wish I could be just like her."

Jennie smiled at her sister's enthusiasm. "Jill is beginning her studies to eventually become a pilot, too. Bill says she will be a fine one in the not too distant future. Then there will be three pilots in the same family."

"Same family?"

"Sure, both Bill's wives will ... uh..."

"'Both' his wives?" Hope repeated. "Did I hear you right? Both?"

Oh, shit,  Jennie thought. I just had to run my dumb mouth. "Uh, does that bother you?" she said as she tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"He's married to both of them? But you can't do that. It's illegal or something."

Jennie grabbed her sister's hand again. "He's legally married to one of them, but our Prime and Queen married him to both of them." Jennie stared at her sister, willing her to be calm. "Hope, please don't get excited about this. I know you have been through some bad things, but this isn't anything like that. Think about how those two women have acted," she said as she nodded toward Jill who had just brought Lieutenant Mayfield and Trooper Carter their coffee. "Have you seen anything to suggest that they're doing anything they don't want to?"

Jill was laughing at something that Carter had said as Jennie smiled and continued, "She went through something as bad, if not worse than what happened to you. Jill escaped and drove herself back from North Dakota with a really bad man after her. Jeff and Bill went there and brought back three girls who you will meet when we get to the Retreat. They, like Jill, were raped and kept as slaves. You could never tell it now, though. They're just as happy as Jill."

"What happened to the bad man?" Hope asked. Something Jennie didn't want to talk about right now. "Is he still trying to get Jill?"

"Uh, he won't ever bother her again."

"Why? How do you know that?"

"Look, Hope. I don't want to talk about that now."

"What happened to the bad guy who raped them and kept them as slaves?"

Jennie stared at Hope.

"Tell me."

Jennie frowned as she looked down for a second, then making up her mind, raised her gaze to look hard at her sister, "Jeff, Bill, and Jeff's team killed him." Jennie held her breath waiting for the explosion, hoping Jeff wouldn't be too mad at her, but she wasn't going to lie to Hope.

The two sisters stared eye to eye for a moment, then Hope seemed to relax. "Good. Anyone who enslaves another person should die. Good," she said again with emphasis as she leaned back in her seat.

Jeff, who had, of course, heard everything, sighed, put his arm around Diana as they sat on the executive jet's comfortable couch, and closed his eyes to take a nap.

MIAMI FLORIDA

Fred maneuvered the big rig and its tow down the residential street. At least most everybody is parked in his driveway and not on the street. There's the house on the right, and I can easily park in front, since the moving company's small van left me room like I asked on the phone. I hope I can make the turn at the end of the block when we're ready to leave. Otherwise, I'm going to have to unhook the Cruiser, make the turn, then hook everything back up.

When Fred shut the rig down, Carla stood, then leaned over and hugged him. "Don't sweat it, My Love. Susan sent a detailed list of everything she wanted and just where it is located. All the furniture she wants is that antique Singer sewing machine that belonged to her grandmother. We'll send the moving company guys on their way as soon as they pack the machine up. We'll box up the rest of the small things she wants and take them with us. Mostly, she just wants clothes, personal items and family photo albums. But we'll carefully look through the place in case there's something that she's forgotten that we think she might like. Just before we leave, we'll call her and make sure she hasn't remembered something else."

Carla talked to the neighbor and got the key. Shortly, the moving company people had bound the antique sewing machine in padding, put it in their truck and were gone.

Fred and his women stripped the house of all Susan's personal items, clothing, etc., called Susan to see if she had thought of anything else, then they did a walk-through to double-check. Carla returned the key to the neighbor, then Fred unhooked the Cruiser, made the sharp turn onto the adjacent narrow street, re-hooked, and they were on their way.

Thirty minutes later, Fred pulled into a campground on the outskirts of Miami. After he checked in and returned to the RV, he sat in the driver's seat, started the motor and said, "The lady said they had a very nice pool. We still have a couple of hours before dark. Want to try it out?"

"You better believe it," Carla laughed. "We won't be swimming when we get back home, well ... not unless we visit Jeff and Diana, anyway."

Fred was disappointed at the scenery when they eventually got to the pool. All the people swimming had to be sixty plus. But then again, I have four of the best looking women in the world with me. Can't complain,  he thought. Can't complain.

Jessica pushed him in, but he grabbed her arm and took her with him. Laughing, his other women jumped in, determined to gang up on him to give him a good dunking.

-------

On the plane, Lieutenant Mayfield, wearing his helmet, got up and approached Jeff. "Sir, I have the General on my radio. He would like to speak with you."

Jeff stood and walked toward the back, then turned his seat toward a window. "Patch me through, Lieutenant ... This is Colonel Matthews, Sir."

The bone conduction made the General's voice sound a little odd, but Jeff was used to it. "How is your little excursion going, Colonel?"

Jeff chuckled. "Very well, thanks to you, Sir."

"Well, I can't have my favorite Colonel wandering around without security."

Jeff chuckled. "Your 'favorite' Colonel? I'm your only Colonel, at least currently."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to correct that one of these days. Still got your escort?"

"Yeah, I think he's still back there. I'll bet that Raptor pilot is bored to tears, though," Jeff said.

"I doubt it. He knows what will happen to him if he fucks up," Whitworth shot back. "But that's not what I called about. I thought you would like to know that the FBI has talked to Hope and Jennie's uncle. He's perfectly willing to let Hope's brother live with him from now on, and I set a fire under DHR in their area. They suddenly found time and got out to interview the kid. He tells them he wants to stay with his uncle. So, I've suggested to some people that the paperwork be expedited."

"Thank you, Sir. That takes a load off. I'll see that the kids get to see each other on occasion, and I'll make certain that the family isn't ... stressed by the extra financial burden."

"Yeah, I thought you might. The bad news is that the FBI hasn't found the slightest trace of Hope's mother. It's early in the investigation, so that might change."

"If you do find her, she's going to have a rough row to hoe about getting Hope back," Jeff snarled out. "Plus the family court judge isn't pleased with her apparently abandoning her children."

"If you do find her, she's going to have a rough row to hoe about getting Hope back," Jeff snarled out.

"Yeah, there is that," Jeff agreed. "But even so, uh, let's just say that their home environment wasn't the best in the world."

"I know a good bit about what's happened to Hope," the General said, his voice changing. "Obviously not everything, but enough to piss me off about her father. At least the bastard got himself killed — finally did something right," he finished, grimly.

"Yes, Sir. We're in total agreement on that."

The two chatted for a couple of moments, then, "When are you coming back for a visit, Sir?"

"Hell, we practically just left," Whitworth laughed.

"Remember, it's home," Jeff said, his voice mellow.

"I appreciate that, Jeff. And I appreciate what you did for Barbara. I'll always be in your debt. Both Barbara and Ellen talk about you and your family every day. And trust me, that's an understatement."

There was a few seconds of uncomfortable silence between the two men, then, "How long until you land?"

"About thirty minutes, I think."

"Good, I'm uncomfortable with you hanging your ass out there in the air like that," the General gruffly said. "Get your butt back to that Retreat where I can take care of you."

"Will do, General. And ... thanks."

"Anytime." The channel went dead.



-------

Chapter 107

LATE TUESDAY AFTERNOON:

As they were preparing to get off the plane in Boulder, "We forgot to buy Hope a coat," Diana fretted.

"She can wear mine until we can get her one," Jennie said with so much conviction that Diana could feel the sting of tears touch her eyes.

Jeff started to offer his coat, but a look from Diana stopped him. From long association, the 'Jennie needs to do this' came across quite well, though neither of the two spoke aloud.

Instead, Jeff said to Hope, "Once we're home, there will be plenty of coats for you to choose from until we can get to Winter Park and let you pick out just what you want."

"Yes, Sir," Hope replied, her eyes downcast.

"Not, 'Sir, '" he quietly said. "Just Jeff, remember? I'm still the Jeff you knew before."

"Yes, S... , uh, Jeff," Hope replied, but she couldn't look up at him.

Diana and the others could see the hurt flash across the Prime's face for an instant, but he quickly smiled. "Okay," he said as Kathy hit the switch that opened the door and extended the steps. "It's only a short way to the 'copter. In less than thirty minutes we'll be home."

On the helicopter a little later, Diana closed her phone and said quietly to her husband. "Melissa will meet us with a warm Escalade, and she's bringing another coat for Jennie."

"Good," the Prime said. "The cold is going to be a jolt to Hope, and she's had enough trauma lately."

-------

On the ride to the Retreat, Hope, obviously enjoying the experience, had been looking out the window of the helicopter at the snow-covered mountains beneath them. After a few minutes, her youth began to assert itself, "Look there," she said to Jennie. "I saw something move down there in the snow."

"It's an elk," Jennie said, leaning close to the window, then pointing to the side, "and look over there. There's a whole bunch of them."

"Is it always like this?" Hope asked, her eyes big. "I've never seen an elk before, well, other than on TV or the net."

Jennie shook her head, a smile threatening to take over her face when she saw Hope's enthusiasm at discovering the animals. "No, sometimes we see several animals, other times, nothing. We've seen a lot of deer and occasionally a moose. Then there are a few grizzlies and some black bears. We've only seen a couple of the grizzlies. But you need to be careful when you go outside the Retreat. A grizzly almost got Jeff on his morning run a while back."

When Hope's eyes got big, Jennie hastily added. "It's the only one any of us have seen near the Retreat, but we never go outside without checking the monitors first, and we never go alone unless we're going to be in a vehicle."

Bill, flying right seat again, did a slow circle around the Retreat only a few hundred feet up so that Hope could see where she was going to live.

"It's beautiful," Hope whispered as she stared out the window. "It's like something out of a fairytale. And all that snow around it. Everything is so ... white. The building is sitting on that big ... flat place on the side of the mountain. Oh, it's beautiful." She hastily turned back to Jennie. "This is where I'm going to live?"

Jennie smiled at her, remembering the impact the Retreat had on her when she first saw it, and that wasn't even from a helicopter. "It's home, Hope. Just like I told you before. It's your home — forever. No one will ever hurt you again. Jeff will kill them if they try. And ... I would, too."

Arlene, as she heard Jennie's comment, let a grin take over for a moment as she remembered what Jennie had done to the mercenary, realizing that Hope had no idea that her sister meant the statement literally.

Bill sat the helicopter down, gently as usual, and Hope started to remove her seatbelt as soon as Bill killed the engine. "Let's wait a minute before we get out," Jeff said. "The rotors are well above our heads, but the down-blast in this cold isn't anything to encounter if you don't have to. It will only take a moment for the blades to stop, though."

"Plus the rotors blow snow and pellets of ice around that sting like crazy," Jennie added.

When the rotors stilled, Captain Reed opened the door for them, the icy blast of wind invading the passenger compartment and quickly dropping the temperature there.

Jeff was worried about Jennie being without a coat, now that she had given hers to Hope, but he refrained from offering his own because of what Diana had communicated. Tapping Jennie on the shoulder, "Scat, Pretty One," he said, without thinking how Hope might take the comment. "Hurry and get in the car before you freeze."

Jennie worried that Jeff was being too familiar with her in front of Hope, but then realized that her sister probably wouldn't think anything about Jeff's comment. It could very well have been something said between family members who lived together. I want Hope to find out about all of us being married to Jeff when I can break the news to her gently. I had better do it quickly though, before one of us forgets and kisses him in front of her.

"Watch the patch of ice," Jeff cautioned, pointing, as he stood just outside the door with Bill to help assist the women out of the craft. Then to Hope as she stepped out, "We had a bit of a thaw a few days ago, and some of the snow began to melt before it refroze the next night. The snow blower takes care of most of the snow, but the ice becomes hard as concrete. If we should salt or sand the helipad to take care of the ice, the rotors would kick the grains up like little bullets, not to say anything about needing to keep sand from the air intakes on the helicopter motor. So watch out for ice patches. They look innocent, but they can spoil your fun in a heartbeat."

"I've been in snow and ice before," Hope indignantly replied. "But just not this much of it," she admitted as she looked around, then hurried for the Escalade to get out of the cold wind.

When Melissa saw Hope exit the copter, she jumped out of the Escalade and ran to meet her. As Melissa and Jennie passed, Melissa tossed Jennie one of the "generic" coats that the Matthews kept near the Retreat's door. As the two friends met, Melissa engulfed Hope in her arms, the girls laughing and hugging each other. "I wanted to come," Melissa assured Hope, "but security had to be included. I was so worried about you when Jennie couldn't get in touch with you. We're sorry about Mr. Stewart..."

"Don't be," Hope replied, her face set, but she didn't have time to expand on her comment because Jeff came by and herded them toward the vehicle, and warmth.

"Short trip," Melissa joked a few moments later as she stopped the Escalade inside the garage and touched the button to close the door. The big heaters came on to blast down warm air on them as soon as the outside door was closed.

Up the stairs and into the Retreat proper a few minutes later, Hope was virtually attacked by Ann and Laura, while Susan stood back and waited her turn to greet her young friend. After the hugs were over, Diana stepped in to introduce Hope to everyone else.

Jeff stood back to watch, noticing that Hope repeated everyone's name as she was greeted, obviously trying to lock the names in her mind. Aspects of both an adult and a child, all in the last few minutes,  Jeff thought. I wish I knew what has been happening to her. Maybe Helen can find out the details, but then again, she won't tell unless Hope gives her permission. The judge says the FBI agent he talked to thinks Stewart was going to sell her. How in the fuck can anyone sell his own child?

The judge also said that the two paramedics who responded and saved the agent's life might get fired, or at least get some major time off without pay. Bureaucracy, how did we ever do without it? he inwardly snarled. I need to get in touch with our lawyer and our accountant. The agent said he thought both of the paramedics were trying to save up so they could start college — something about wanting to be doctors. Looks like those two need to hear from a certain foundation. Damned if I'm going to let them go down after what they did for that agent and Hope. They even called DHR and the judge to check on her, and were worried that she wasn't speaking. Yeah, they need a free ride through college. I had to work my ass off to get through. Not to mention Diana having busted her butt to help out. God has been good to us, and now we're wallowing in money. Time to spread some more of that money around. Besides, Frank said he is selling the radar units at five times the astronomical price he charged for the test units, and production is struggling to keep up with sales to the military. He said I'm due to get another large chunk of money from my portion of the last sales. Plus my accountant is pushing hard for tax deductions. So yeah, those two paramedics are going to have a very interesting visit. They'll always wonder what that foundation really is, but they'll never find out. Grinning, his thoughts continued. I can't seem to give the money away as fast as I'm making it.

All the younger women, including Dave's younger wives, took off down the hall to escort Hope to her suite.

"What do you think, Helen?" Jeff asked Doctor Boswell as they watched the giggling and laughing girls turn the corner far down the hallway.

His wife smiled up at him. "Right now, I think she's getting some of the best therapy we could ever wish for. In time, I'll have a number of sessions with her, but I could never do what those girls are doing at this moment. Did you notice her laugh just as they turned the corner?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, "it's great to see that."

"That group of girls range from very smart to genius," Boswell continued. "You can rest assured that every one of them is trying her best to keep Hope's mind off her troubles. Hope is smart, and she probably realizes what they are doing, but still it works. Expect some bouts of depression, though. She won't always be laughing. Some women have problems for years, or even their entire lives, after they are raped, even if the rape happened at a fairly young age. And obviously, expect her to continue to be a little afraid of you for awhile, perhaps shun you, just because you're a man. She knows it wasn't you that did those things to her, but still, you represent the part of humanity that did do this to her."

"I know," Jeff said as he frowned, "but knowing it and accepting it are two different things. I guess it's something like being part of a minority. You get looked down on, just because of who you are, period. But I just want to hug her and tell her how sorry I am about what's happened. It keeps bugging me that I didn't look more into what was going on that night we walked into that house. I just seized the opportunity to get Jennie and Melissa away from their parents. I just didn't..."

"Hush," Helen whispered as she pulled his face down to kiss him hard on the mouth for a second. "Even our Prime isn't totally perfect. Even he makes a mistake on occasion. Now I need to catch up to the rest of your wives and get us something started for ... supper," she teased, changing the word at the last second.

"You can take the boy out of the South, but you can't take the South out of the boy," he said, changing the expression to suit the occasion.

"Oh, that's terrible," Helen laughed just before he slapped her on the ass and sent the genius on her way.

HOSPITAL IN ATLANTA

Sandra had fed Hanes his meal, such as it was. Both nurses were pleased that his appetite was back, but Hanes was not pleased with the clear liquid diet the doctor had him on. The nurses were gone for a few minutes before the door opened again and both came back in, closing the door behind them and pulling the curtains. Sandra had a plastic pan containing warm water, and Bobby had soap, washcloths and a towel. Hanes had a sinking feeling when they asked the agent sitting beside his bed to give them a little privacy for a while.

"Bath time," Bobby said, brightly as Sandra grinned like the Cheshire cat.

The agent was sniggering as he closed the door behind him.

"Uh," Hanes got out. "Set the pan down on my table and swing it across the bed. I'll..."

Bobby grinned at him as Sandra set the pan on the table, wet a cloth and soaped it up — but she did not swing the table across his body. Hanes could see the look in her eye, and after the episode with the spirometer, he felt the women, pretty or not, were likely to do anything.

Bobby took a washcloth and got it ready as well. "We did the best we could while you were unconscious, but you need a real bath now," she said as they started.

Hanes was in a predicament. One, he was desperately afraid he would get an erection if they even got close to his dick, and two, he, like most men, was worried that the embarrassment of them bathing him would cause his dick to shrivel up and try to run up his ass. Opposites, but both possibilities worried him, anyway.

The nurses, like most women, apparently able to read a man's mind, smiled sweetly at him, as he stammered out, "I don't want..."

Bobby, feeling a little sorry for him, touched his good arm. "How do you think that foley got where it is, hmmm?" she asked, glancing toward his groin. "There's nothing you have that we haven't seen. Remember, though, we do this for a living. Besides," she said, taking a chance, as she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Bobby," Sandra hissed.

Bobby's face flamed, but Hanes' chuckled. "Thanks," he quietly said.

As their bathing progressed down his body, Hanes began to worry again. Sandra matter-of-factly pulled the sheet below his naked groin, exposing his cock with the catheter sticking out of it. She held his cock up and washed it and his balls. Bobby took over with a wet washcloth to get the soap off, then Sandra dried him. They weren't rough with him, but they just got the job done; there wasn't anything sexual about it, nor did they comment once they had started, even as said cock began to swell.

After again covering his groin with the sheet, they went on down his legs, then as easily as if he were a baby, working together, they rolled him to his side to wash his back, then changed his bottom sheet in only a few minutes. They shaved him as if they had done it a hundred times, and obviously, they had shaved many patients. Finally, they finished by changing his top sheet. He was tired again when they were done, but he felt clean. Sandra had hit the pain pump before they started the bath, and she pressed the button again now. "Sleep," she quietly said. "Bobby is going home, and I'll be with you all night. But remember, though, now that you're better, I have another patient to attend to, so I'll be gone from time to time. The button is right by your hand if you need me."

"We're both proud of you," Bobby said. "Not only from fighting back from all those injuries, but a little birdie told us you saved a young girl's life, and that almost cost you yours. We suspect she'll want to thank you one of these days. Now sleep and get well."

His body felt clean and the pain meds clouded his mind. Sleeping wasn't a hard order for Hanes to follow.

THE RETREAT

Hope stood in the middle of her bedroom, slowly turning around and around. "This is mine? This whole ... suite? It's so ... everything looks so ... expensive. Are you sure it's okay with Mrs ... uh, Diana?" she finished.

"When did you start calling her Mrs. Matthews again?" Arlene asked, her voice light. "You know better than that?"

Hope's face changed for a minute, "I don't know. I just ... so many things have happened. In one way, it seems like yesterday that Jennie left, and in another way it seems like forever. Daddy, uh..."

Jennie grabbed her sister and hugged her before the tears could really start. "It's over. Whatever happened — all the bad stuff — is over. You're here with us now. This is your home..."

"Forever," Arlene broke in.

"Forever," Jennie repeated. "Now let's get your clothes put away."

Hope's few possessions took only a moment to hang up or put in drawers. Arlene saw the look on Hope's face. "Dad said the judge told him that the FBI had declared your house a crime scene, and they were searching it for evidence about the slavery thing, also to try and find clues about where your mother is and what's happened to her." Hope seemed to flinch when Arlene mentioned slavery, but Arlene went quickly on. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that word. Anyway, Daddy said that when the FBI was done, we could have someone go to your house and get any of your things that you want."

"I don't ever want to see anything from that place again. I never want to go back."

Diana walked in, having heard enough of the conversation to realize what was going on. "You certainly don't have to go back — ever. But if you think of personal items you might want, make a list and we'll take care of getting them here. Also, if you feel like it, we'll attack the Winter Park shops tomorrow." She stopped and thought for a second. "No, that won't work, the local small shops don't have enough variety for a complete wardrobe. We'll go to Denver and do it right. Diana stepped over and took Hope's hands. We're going to fill your closets and drawers. And if you don't like this suite, just pick another."

Hope hugged Diana. "Thank you for ... taking me in. I don't know what would have happened to me, if you hadn't. I, uh ... I won't need much."

Diana stepped back a half-step and took Hope gently by her upper arms, the Queen's smile of sincerity making her even more beautiful. "You're one of us now. This is your home. No one will ever harm you here."

Diana hesitated for a moment, but felt it needed to be said. "Baby, there is no need to be afraid of the men who came back with us on the plane, nor my husband, nor any of the men here. And incidentally, those two on the plane are only a part of the security people assigned to us — to Jeff. But you need not fear any of our security. The men on the plane, and the other men and women who watch out for us, are all honorable people. They would lay down their lives for you, if need be. And I mean that literally. All because you're now part of my husband's family. Know that for a fact, Hope. And we all know that you're uncomfortable when you're around men right now. As I just said, but to reiterate, every man here is honorable — and certainly my husband is. Please give them a chance."

"I'm sorry," Hope said, starting to cloud up.

Diana hugged the girl hard. "Hush. Don't you be sorry. You have done nothing wrong. Nothing, you hear me? Just please give the men a chance, but there's no rush. Just let things happen on their own, but know that we all love you and will support you. Tonight after supper we'll have a long talk. First, just you, me, and Jennie. Then you'll probably want to ask some of the others some questions. Right now, supper will be ready in a few minutes, so I'll see you in the kitchen where we all usually eat. Remember, everyone we introduced you to is family. They certainly don't all have the Matthews name, but nevertheless, they're family. Okay?"

Hope nodded, afraid she would burst into tears again if she said anything else.

-------

Jennie brought Hope into the kitchen just as everyone was sitting down to have the blessing. Diana was sitting at the other end of the table, of course, and the place to her right was vacant. Diana caught Hope's eye and subtly motioned to the empty seat. Jennie sat beside Hope, taking her hand and gently squeezing it.

Jeff smiled at Hope, and she tentatively returned it. The Prime suddenly bowed his head and was several words into the prayer before Hope belatedly realized he was saying grace. She had forgotten that the Matthews did that. It caused a flood of memories to come back as she thought of the good times they had had at Arlene's house while growing up.

When Jeff had finished, a young girl got down off the two pillows she was sitting on atop her chair. Marching around the table, she stopped next to Hope and stuck out a small hand, while everyone seemed to wait.

Hope hesitated for a second until she realized that the child was offering to shake hands. Hope did, feeling awkward as the child spoke, "Hi, I am Selina. I am sorry I was not available to greet you upon your arrival. I was involved in a lengthy phone conversation with my parents. I assume that everyone, save myself, has greeted and welcomed you. I am new here also, but the Matthews have assured me that I am family, and with that in mind, I also welcome you to our home."

"Thank you," Hope got out, wondering at the stilted speech. If she looked away, and ignored the pixie voice, she would think she was talking to an adult, maybe a college professor or something similar.

"Shall we go to the bar and fill our plates?" Selina asked as she took Hope by the hand. "It is an irritant being so short," she continued as she led the older girl. "I sometimes require assistance with items I cannot reach. Disgusting. Our Queen has provided a small step stool, but it is an encumbrance to drag it around while carrying a partially-filled plate."

Selina stopped at the end of the bar, got a plate from the stack and handed it to Hope, then took another for herself. Selina held out her plate as she continued, "Would you please put a spoonful of those blackeye peas, there, on my plate?" Selina said, nodding. "Also, please put a small amount of that pepper sauce over there on the peas. I have only been a resident here a few days, but already I have learned to enjoy several things from Southern style cooking. If you should choose to try the sauce, be warned, a spoonful will suffice. It is quite hot, but its taste complements the peas. I am told you originate from the Atlanta area, so I imagine you are already familiar with the combination, therefore, I apologize for my little diatribe on the subject."

A little later, Hope watched as Selina carefully put a big serving spoonfull of mashed potatoes onto her plate. Then, even as Hope wondered if the child would eat all she had on her plate, Selina piled on another spoonful of potatoes.

"That's sufficient for my first serving." When Selina recognized the expression on Hope's face, the child continued, "The Prime says that I am fueling my intellect, for my body certainly does not reflect the amount of food I eat. Thank you for your assistance," Selina finished as she turned to walk back to the table. Jeff had already put a glass of iced tea at Selina's place, saving her another trip to the bar. Her small hands could not manage the tea and the loaded plate at the same time.

Hope realized she had been staring after the retreating child, wondering just what had happened.

Jennie stopped beside her sister as they each poured themselves a glass of tea. "I see you've met our resident genius. Well, one of them. You met Helen in Atlanta."

"She's really a genius? Selina, I mean," Hope whispered to her sister.

"Yep, Helen is board certified," Jennie giggled, "or whatever the expression is. But as far as Selina is concerned, I think her mother and father are just now figuring out how smart she really is. Selina's relaxed around us, but she tried very hard to keep her intelligence a secret from her parents."

"She's like talking to a small adult — a very smart, small adult."

Jennie quietly giggled. "We finally have someone who can give Arlene a run for her money."

"Arlene isn't a genius," Hope said. "She's just really, really smart."

"Yeah, and so is Ann, but you should have seen Selina in class. She had never used a CAD program before, but only a couple of hours after she loaded it onto her computer, she was showing us things I hadn't realized the program could do. She reads textbooks almost as fast as she can turn the pages. And she seems to remember everything. Helen thinks Selina could very well have an IQ equal to hers (Helen), or maybe even higher."

"Wow," Hope whispered as they started back to the table. Selina caught Hope's eye and winked at her. It was obvious that Selina had figured out that Jennie and Hope were talking about her (Selina).

Hope blushed, but winked back at Selina.

-------

Jeff and the General were nearing the end of a long talk on the sat phone. " ... So, Colonel, the information you got for us from Doctor Ingles is by far the most accurate and complete that any agency has been able to compile so far. What this FBI agent got, heroic though his efforts were, and indeed, he did almost pay with his life, was information that added very little in the overall scheme of things. Other than three dead slavers, of course. The slavers' organization is divided into cells, which we have known about for some time — the concept, that is. We don't have a lot of knowledge about where the cells are. The elimination of a whole cell has little effect on the overall organization, and there isn't much chance of involving other cells in a takedown. Possibly, the FBI could have gained some useful information from the Iranian, if indeed he was an Iranian, but he was killed in the shootout. Fingerprints and facial recognition software have found nothing concerning this person. There is no record of him entering the United States. Of course, as porous as our borders are, that is certainly no big surprise."

"I beg to differ, General. Something very important happened in that motel room..."

"Ah, Colonel. I misspoke. I did not mean to belittle the rescue of the young lady. I had a short conversation with Judge Carver. I told him that I had met Jennie and Melissa while visiting you. He seemed pleased that they were doing so well, and I, of course, suggested that Hope would prosper with your family."

"Thanks General. I think your call cinched it for us."

Whitworth chuckled. "I seriously doubt that you needed my support, but as I've said several times now, I will forever be in your debt for saving Barbara." He paused for a moment, then, "Now on to other things. I have the full approval of my scientists concerning using the blocks on your six-year-old genius. All my people are adamant that the blocks will in no way permanently harm her. They do caution that she should have a thorough understanding concerning repercussions should she repeatedly try to discuss restricted subjects with persons not under the block. So I caution you to address these issues with her lest she be frightened unnecessarily upon accidentally approaching a restricted subject."

"And I now have another person that must be blocked, and she isn't in much of a forgiving mood toward males right now."

"Ah, females," Whitworth laughed. "We can't live with them..."

" ... and we can't live without them," Jeff laughed.

"I assume you're talking about the young lady you just rescued?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. "And I doubt if she'll be pleased to know that her sister is one of my wives. In a way, it kinda irritates me that Stewart got his ass killed in that motel room. He and I needed to have a serious chat."

"Which he wouldn't have survived," the General chuckled.

"Maybe so," Jeff admitted, "but Hope is afraid of men. I don't know how deep the feeling goes, or how long it will take her to get over it, but she's fucking scared of me, and ... it hurts to see that look in her eyes."

"Maybe Doctor Boswell will see her through this. She's one smart lady."

"And, I suppose you have a file on Doctor Boswell, too?"

The General's voice changed. "I have a file on everyone you regularly come in contact with. A detailed file from their birth on. Most of that was done before you came back with the Ship, but I've expanded things since..." Whitworth paused, and there was a very pregnant silence. The General would have been pleased to see the fascinatingly guilty look that flitted across Jeff's face.

"Look General, I know you probably think differently, and we've discussed this several times before, but I had no intention of taking command of that ship. When the Sergeant put my nearly-dead body into that healing chamber, I basically came face to face with the Ship — the AI. But she's more than just an AI. She could have healed me a lot quicker than she did, but she was studying me, I guess you could say. My time in that chamber almost seems like a dream, but more, much more. We just needed to get home, and those aliens seemed like they were content to sit out there and snipe at us forever. My team and I could never have made it back to the portal. When I sat in that command chair, I started to become... part of her. I can no more un-part from her than I can fly."

"'Un-part?'"

"Yeah, well," Jeff laughed. "Whatever the hell I meant. I don't have a word for it. But something happened. We sort of meshed, I guess. She was waiting for her Prime. Maybe for millennia; I'm not sure. He didn't come, but she says I'm a Prime, just like Little One says I am. I didn't set out to do this. I'm not even sure what it is that I'm supposed to do."



-------

Chapter 108

Later in the evening, the three new girls, Nat, Nicki, and Whitney, were in Hope's bedroom with her. Hope was sitting on her new bed, her shoes off, leaning her back against the headboard. Nat and Nicki had moved a small bench seat near, and Whitney had pulled a chair over. The three new girls had been laughing and kidding with Hope, trying to keep her spirits up.

"Now's the time," Nat said to her sisters.

"Time for what?" Hope asked, looking at first one, then the other, realizing that Nat's tone was serious.

"We need to talk to you," Whitney said, "about something important."

"Uh, okaaayyy," Hope answered, hesitantly, drawing out the word.

Whitney delayed, obviously searching for the right words. Finally, "Look, Hope. Diana has told us some of the things that happened on their trip. Jeff just got through talking with the judge again, and he had an update from the agent who was shot in that motel room. So, we know a little about what's happened, and we're so sorry for all you have been through. We can certainly sympathize with you, because something similar happened to us.

"Nat, Nicki and I are orphans. The orphanage we lived in was operated by some bad people who sent us to a foster home where we were 'kidnapped' and sent to this evil man. The people at the orphanage planned everything so that we would be sold as slaves. This ... person, this Doctor Ingles, raped us and kept us in a cage. Jeff and his team came and rescued us, and ... killed that evil man..."

"I heard about that..." Hope interrupted.

"Yeah, we know. But the point isn't just that; well it's not what I'm really talking about, anyway. We watched you jerk away from Jeff when we all walked by him at the end of the table as we were leaving the kitchen."

"I don't remember..."

"All four men were standing there and when Margaret walked by, Jeff stepped back to let her pass, but he backed into your path. You flinched back from him like he had the plague or something..."

"I can't help it..." Hope started.

"We know you can't," Whitney hastened to say, "but ... neither can this go on. Jeff and those men and women with him risked their lives to save us. He looked away from us when he saw we were naked. They covered our bodies as soon as they could. He and his team did everything they could to maintain what little modesty we had left. We saw tears in his eyes when he let his visor retract as Kayla was taking us out of that cage. They treated us like we were precious to them. Us. Three orphans who had nothing — were worth nothing.

"We want to be his wives. We've thrown ourselves at him. He tells us he'll marry us, but not right now. He wants us to have time to be sure. Hah, as if we needed time."

"Wait," Hope got out. "You can't all marry him. Besides, he's already married to Diana."

"They didn't tell you?" Nat said.

"Tell me? Tell me what?"

"That Jeff already has nine wives, plus Kayla and Susan as mates."

"Nine? He has nine wives? He can't ... I mean ... It's ... Uh, and you want to marry him, too? All of you?" she said, incredulously, looking at the other girls.

Nicki fought back a giggle as she elbowed Whitney, "You know what Jeff would say right now? Something along the lines of, 'You've just opened a can of worms.'"

"Oh, shit," Whitney said. "Look Hope, we were just trying to get you to realize that Jeff is a nice guy — a really nice guy who doesn't deserve your flinching from him like he's a mad rapist or something. We obviously don't know what all has happened to you, but we have had some extremely bad things done to us by men, but there's no place we had rather be than snuggled in Jeff's arms. You need to stop your reactions to him. He's not the bad guy in this..."

Jennie, who had been standing by the partially opened door, listening, walked into the room and focused on Hope. "I've been talking with our Queen, and our teacher. I was coming in to talk to you, Little Sister," she said, using the term as a name. Sitting on the bed facing Hope, Jennie reached out and pulled Hope into a hug. After a moment, Jennie leaned back, but took both of Hope's hands in her own. "Hope, Jeff is my husband," she said, pulling her hand back for a moment to display the wedding band she now wore, then grabbed Hope's hand again. "I, like Nat, Nicki and Whitney would rather be in his arms than any place on Earth. And like them," she said, nodding to the girls, "seeing you flinch from my man hurts more every time I see it."

"You're married to him? I ... I didn't mean ... You can't ... I..." There was a pause, then after a deep breath, "I can't help it," Hope whined, the tears starting. "I can't stand for a man to touch me. Daddy forced me to fuck a lot of men. He made me dress like a little girl and act like one. I had to pretend to be a virgin. He even had this thing like a hymen, with fake blood in it, that he sometimes made me put inside me. It ruptured when they pushed into me. And he made me douche with this stuff that made me tighten up inside, but it made the sex hurt really bad. When all those guns started going off in that motel room, it was... horrible. Something just ... snapped inside me, I guess. I couldn't talk and I can't stand to have a man touch me," she repeated. "I'm just scared to death to be near a man. I can't help it. And I still can't believe you're married. Let alone to Jeff."

Jennie pulled Hope into her arms again, then looked over at the girls. "Houston, we have a problem." She meant it to be a joke to lighten up the tension a little, but her voice broke halfway through.

The girls all cried together for a while, then Nicki found a box of tissues and passed them out. Somehow the way she handed out the tissues accompanied with a little curtsy, got them all laughing and sniffing at the same time.

After a while, Hope looked at her sister. "How in the world did you wind up married to Jeff? I mean, he's way older, and how did you possibly talk Diana into it?"

"It's a long story. A really long story that you will certainly get to hear in detail. Melissa and I would love to tell it, but that's for later ... Our Prime has problems."

"'Prime?' Why do I keep hearing that word? Jeff is a Prime? What's a Prime? And you called Diana a Queen?"

Jennie sighed and looked at the others, then back to Hope. "That's part of the problem. We can't tell you things right now; things that we need to tell you. And that brings up yet another problem. Hope, you should talk to Jeff and Diana. There's something you have to do so that we can tell you everything that's going on. We have to tell you things, but we can't until ... uh, Jeff takes care of things so we can. Oh, shit, Baby. I know all this sounds crazy, but I can't tell you anything until Jeff ... does something. Please, just trust me. And don't say that Daddy said to trust him, too. You know I would never hurt you, or let anyone hurt you. Just please do what Jeff asks of you. I promise that you will understand when it's over. It won't hurt you, and we'll be able to talk to you afterward. Please!"

"Jennie, I don't..."

"Jeff is in the other room right now. If you're afraid of him, just close your eyes and let him put something on your head for a little while. Then we can talk to you. Hope — for me. Please do this for me. I'll be right here holding your hand. I won't let anything bad happen to you. It's got to be, Hope. It's the only way I can tell you the things that need to be said."

Jennie hugged her sister, and with her mouth close to Hope's ear, "Please, Little Sister. I won't let him touch you. He'll just put something on your head. I promise."

Hope sat for a time. There was a shiver, then, a quiet, "Okay. But stay with me," she quickly added. "Deep down, I know that Jeff won't hurt me, but I'm still scared, anyway. I don't know what's wrong with me. I know it isn't logical, but I'm just ... scared."

Jennie looked over at the girls, "Go get Jeff. Tell him to not say anything, just to come in and start the procedure."

Nat was gone almost before the words were out of Jennie's mouth. "Close your eyes and just sit like you are," Jennie encouraged her sister.

Jeff walked in with the block equipment in his hands. Hope sat, more or less, calmly, her eyes closed, trusting her sister, but even so, there was an occasional shiver.

Jeff walked quietly over. Hope felt something settle about her head. After what seemed to her to only be a moment, she didn't feel it anymore and opened her eyes, not realizing that she had been asleep.

"It's done," Jennie said.

"Done?" Hope responded, frowning. "But nothing happened. I just felt something touch my head. It can't be done. And where's Jeff? I thought he was going to be here."

"He was here," Jennie assured her. "He's back in the sitting room with Diana. He didn't want to be here when you woke up and maybe make you feel uncomfortable. Hope ... he's the most wonderful man in the world. One of these days, you're going to realize that, and feel really bad about the way you're treating him now."

"But I don't mean to," Hope got out. "It must have started with what went on in the motel room. Jennie, Daddy and that man were arguing over what Daddy was trying to charge for me. Daddy wanted more money than that man was willing to pay. Daddy was selling me, not just renting me out, but selling me. He was selling me to that odd-looking man — forever."

The tears started again, and Jennie pulled her sister tightly to her.

"If our Prime had been there, he would have killed all of them," Nicki said.

"Yeah," the other two said in unison, and with emphasis.

Jeff, sitting in the other room, almost flinched as he overheard that comment. Oh, great. First they tell Hope, I'm wonderful, then they talk about my killing someone.

Arlene got up, then leaned down to kiss her father as he sat on the couch by her mother. "We can talk to her now," she said as the rest of Jeff's young wives came into the room. Then Melissa and Ann took their turns to kiss their husband. "Let us handle this, Daddy," Arlene continued. "I promise I'll be nice and not kick her ass for the way she's acted toward you."

Arlene had grinned when she made her last comment, but Jeff wasn't sure if she were kidding or not. Before he could say anything, the young wives walked into the bedroom, this time closing the door.

"Di, I..."

"She's a Queen, Jeff. I want to go talk to that girl, now that we can. But it's time I gave my daughter more ... authority, I guess you could say. More responsibilities, a more active part. She wants to handle this, and yeah, I know that Helen is the professional, but Arlene may just be right. Hope's being afraid of men has only just started in the last few days. The girls are all close to Hope's age. Let them tell her our secrets, then we'll see where we are about Hope's feelings toward you. Regardless, Helen has already okayed the girls talking to Hope. Helen says that will help Hope. If for no other reason, their sincerity will come across, and you know they're going to be talking about you a lot. Hope's fear of you, or whatever you want to call it when she is uncomfortable around you, won't last. Not with your young wives spouting your praises."

Diana stood and offered her hand to her husband. "Come on. We need to talk to Selina and tell her the General okayed the blocks for her."

Back in the Matthews' suite, Jeff walked over to Helen who was reading a woman's magazine. The incongruity of the genius reading something of that nature caused him to smile.

Helen tossed the magazine on a nearby table, then looked up at him, "Don't say anything. I'm a woman, too, you know."

Jeff started to come back with a crack about breasts, but thought better of it. Instead, "Are you sure about my young wives taking this on? Hope seems..."

"I've coached Arlene. She's not going in there and lay down an ultimatum to Hope. Arlene and the others are just going to begin telling Hope about Little One and some other things to ... whet Hope's appetite for more. She has mentioned how wonderful she feels to practically everyone who will listen. When she finds out just why that is, she will want to talk to the person who controls Little One. And that person just happens to be a man. I strongly suspect that her curiosity will soon override her hesitation to be near a man — well at least you, that is."

"It really bugs me that she's ... not comfortable when I'm near," Jeff said as he pulled another seat over and relaxed into it. Crossing his legs, he glanced at Diana. "Speaking of curiosity, I wonder how Selina is going to take all this."

Diana sat in her husband's lap. "I wonder how long it will be before she demands to see the Ship?"

"Oh, shit. I hadn't thought about that. But it's damn sure not going to happen until her parents are gone from the area. They could ride back up here any time to check on their daughter. Does Selina know when they're going home, or wherever else they've decided to visit? If we bar them it will look odd, to say the least..."

"Stop worrying," Diana said as she snuggled her breasts against his chest. She could feel the pressure, and it was continuing to mount. "You're going to have to do some serious nursing come bedtime. But..." she said, sitting up, "you need to get Selina blocked. If she finds out that you've already used the blocks on Hope before she gets her chance, well..."

"Call her. No use getting in trouble with a genius," Jeff said, grinning at Helen.

"A submissive male," Helen joked. Somehow, that set off both the women.

"See if she's in her suite," Jeff said to Diana. "I'll go ahead and get her blocked, if she's there."

Diana dialed and Selina answered on the first ring. "Jeff got permission for the blocks," the Queen told Selina.

"Are you calling from your suite?"

"Yes, but..."

"Good, I'll be right there."

"Uh, Jeff was going to come to your suite."

"You told me to call before I entered your suite. Are you having sex with our Prime? Is that the reason you don't want me there?"

"What? Uh, no, Baby. Certainly you're welcome here. We'll be waiting."

Diana hung up the phone. "Why do I feel like I'm being manipulated?"

"Because you are," Helen laughed. "She likes it in here, basically I suspect, because it's off-limits unless she has explicit permission to enter."

"Like a red flag in front of a bull," Diana laughed.

The door opened before they could say anything more. Selina took two steps in, spotted the block apparatus setting on a chair and darted over for a close inspection. "This is it? It does not appear to be all that complicated. Is this off-world technology? What does it feel like to..."

"Sit in the chair there," Jeff said, getting to his feet.

"Yes, Prime," the six-year-old said as she rushed to comply. "I can't wait..." but Jeff had settled the helmet over her head and activated the equipment.

Ten minutes later, she appeared a little confused as she opened her eyes. "You can turn it on now. I'm ready."

"You want me to do it twice?" Jeff laughed as he lifted the equipment off Selina and returned it temporarily to the chair.

"You have already used it?" At Jeff's nod, Selina sat quietly for a time. "I can not feel anything that might be different. Are you certain it functioned as it should? Perhaps my head is too small and thus the equipment did not fit properly. As far as I can determine, my memory is complete. I speculate that the machine did not function, if indeed you did actually turn it on, and you are not kidding me."

"Selina, it did work. I received the confirmation of a successful block. But I must caution you. If you try to talk about some of our secrets to someone who is not also blocked, you will feel nausea. The more you try, the worse the nausea will become. It will quickly reach the point where you will vomit. Keep pushing and you will pass out, and it certainly won't be a pleasant experience. This is military equipment, mated with off-world technology. You'll never know the blocks are there until you cross the line."

"Pay attention to its first little nudge," Diana broke in, "and stop right there. If you continue, the nudges will get a lot worse, very quickly. Ask Margaret. She pushed and found out what real nausea feels like, but Margaret was just fine afterward. You can bet she won't push the blocks again."

Selina sat up straight, barely suppressing a giggle. "I am quite ready to hear about where you acquired Little One. Please give me a complete description of the events."

Diana laughed. "That would take a long time, but I'll give you an overall view of things as I see them." She turned to Jeff, "Go get a cup of coffee, or find the guys and shoot the bull for awhile, My Love. You're far too modest to give a totally accurate description of things."

"Di, now don't..."

"If you don't want to see your Alphas right now, go check on our daughter and see how she's coming along with Hope." Diana kissed him and ushered him out the door. Turning back to Selina, she said, "Our Prime commands a starship..."

"Yes," Selina hissed, "I thought it would be something like that."

Jeff closed the door behind him, his face already beginning to redden.

VERY EARLY WEDNESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 23

Hope, if not in a state of mild shock, was certainly overwhelmed by all that had happened to her in Georgia, plus the things she had learned about the Matthews clan. Jennie had come to sleep with her for the night — well, most of the night. Hope drifted off, exhausted by the stress of meeting with the judge, and the long day of shocks and surprises. Later, she jerked awake from a dream of someone chasing her. She slid a hand over to touch Jennie for reassurance, but her sister wasn't there.

Her heart seemed to skip a beat, but she forced calm as best she could. Jennie had told her she was married to Jeff. Hope sighed as she remembered that Jennie could barely say his name without that look coming on her face. That she was desperately in love with him was obvious. He's married to nine of them,  she thought. How could Jennie get involved in something like that?

Earlier, Hope had half-snarled out a comment to Jennie about drawing straws each night to see who fucked Jeff, but her sister had laughed. Not just laughed, but burst out laughing. "Oh, you don't know our Prime. He makes love to all of us, every night."

She's gone to see him,  Hope thought. He's tall, muscular, good looking, and has something about him, but how could he talk nine women into marrying him? As she was considering that, Jennie quietly walked back into the bedroom.

"I'm awake," Hope said, trying hard to keep the disgust out of her voice. "Go to see your starship commander?" slipped out anyway.

I want to believe her,  Hope thought, but a starship is going a little bit past believable. If the military had one, the whole world would have heard about it. No way could they keep that a secret.

"Yeah, I went to see him," Jennie said as she tossed her robe on a chair and slipped into bed beside Hope. A couple of seconds later, Hope smelled sex. That's not just sex. That's semen I smell. I've become an authority on semen, thanks to that asshole who called himself my father.

Smelling the semen made Hope forget that she was trying to be nice. "Was it your night to breed with him?" she said, the sarcasm in her voice obvious. "Couldn't you even pass up one night without fucking him, or were you just worried about missing your turn?"

Jennie turned on her side, face to face with Hope. "That doesn't become you, Little Sister," she said, reaching out to gently touch Hope's face. "I thought you were asleep and wouldn't miss me." Jennie sighed, "Look, I know you've had a hard time, and for your information, Jeff is really down on himself for leaving you there that night when we walked in on the orgy."

"It wasn't..."

"Just let me finish, please. As to fucking my husband, yeah, I do that from time to time. All of us do. We love to catch him somewhere unaware of us. Well, I guess it's impossible to sneak up on him — he can hear too well — but we find him sitting somewhere, then jump in his lap and stick a titty in his face. He knows what to do with titties. Trust me; he does," she giggled. "Anyway, we call that sport fucking, mostly just to see the expression on his face. But usually with all of us in that big bed, he makes love to us — every night."

Hope made a derogatory sound. "You can't convince me that he's man enough to fuck all of you in one night. No man could do that. I've been beaten by a fifty-year-old man who couldn't get it up for the second fuck. And ... I couldn't get him up no matter how much I played with his dick and sucked it. Daddy whored me out to anyone who had enough money. Granted that most of these guys were older, but I seldom had a man who could fuck me three times in an evening ... No way could Jeff fuck all of you in one night. It's disgusting to think that the whole bunch of you are sleeping with him."

"Keep on, Little Sister. You might very well have to eat those words, someday. He could walk in here right now, turn on the pheromones, and you would have your legs spread in a heartbeat. He won't do that, but he could."

"Yeah, right," Hope said, the sarcasm again evident. "I can't see me spreading my legs for him or any other man, not unless I'm forced to. Not after the way I've been treated by men. And he's fucking nine of you, every night? No way. He might get three of you, but nine. Never."

"Well, actually there are eleven of us, but Joyce is at work, and he hasn't married Susan and Kayla yet, although they do sleep with us."

"He's fucking his mother-in-law?" Hope asked incredulously.

"Yep. And she's a Queen, too."

"As I said, no way."

"Well, while you're not believing, let me tell you something else. I was the fourth one he made love to tonight, and when I woke up from passing out, he had that marvelous cock shoved up Laura. And another thing, he doesn't have to actually put his cock into us to make us come so hard we pass out. If we're touching the one he's making love to, or if we're touching him, we feel the same thing the one he's making love to feels. Afterward, our vaginal lips look just like we've had him. There just isn't any of his come in us."

"Let me get this straight," Hope said, sitting up, "if he's fucking, say Diana, and you touch her, you'll feel the same thing she does while he screwing her?"

"Got it in one," Jennie said, knowing that her sister would never believe her. "He's a Prime. He touches us with his mind, somehow. He says he trips our switch. I don't know how he does it, and I think to some extent every Alpha here can do the same thing. I know that Jeff has tried to teach them how. Dave's wives say he can do it, too."

Hope reached over, grabbed the remote and brought the lights up. "You look fresh fucked," she told her sister.

"Call it what you want, but my husband made love to me. To me and all my sister-wives and mates. If you don't believe me, ask any of them in the morning. Try Arlene. I would love to hear her answer. She just had about a dozen orgasms, then screamed herself unconscious. They tell me I'm kinda loud, too. And while I'm telling you unbelievable things, he comes enough to put ten men to shame."

"No man can..."

"He's a Prime. An Alpha of Alphas. And ... he can. Now let's go to sleep; breakfast has to be ready by six. It's way past twelve and I'm sleepy."

Hope lay down on her back and pulled the sheet up to her waist as Jennie darkened the lights.

"Goodnight Sister," Jennie said. "And you need to get over flinching from Jeff and his Alphas. It makes you look ... bad to every woman here. We understand, but we also don't like your doing it to our husband."

Hope didn't answer, and a few minutes later, Jennie felt Hope snuggle close. "Sleep tight, Little Sister," Jennie whispered.

Hope mumbled something in a barely audible voice as sleep took her.

-------

Arlene came bouncing into the bedroom. "Up and at 'em," she chortled.

Jennie was awake and smiled at Arlene as she turned the lights up. Hope started to complain, but suddenly realized that the good feeling she had yesterday was still with her today. There had been a second of disorientation until her mind woke up, but after that, she felt just as good as she had yesterday morning. Only this morning, she didn't have to go see a judge.

"Shopping today," Arlene said as she bounced down on the bed. "We have to get you a wardrobe, and Selina and Tina one as well. Oh, we're going to have a ball."

"You know I don't have any money," Hope said. "I hate for Jeff to have to..."

"He discussed it with Mom last night. He's worried that Winter Park won't have enough variety for you, so we'll go to Denver instead. He's not worried about how much you spend, just that you're able to get what you want."

"How can he worry about me when I try to keep as far from him as I can?" Hope asked. "I don't want to be this way. He's always been good to me. I just can't help it. He's a man," she finished.

Jennie bounced to her feet and put out a hand, her mood every bit as good as Arlene's, "Come on, Sister. Let's hurry and take a shower. We have to help with breakfast, then plan our trip."

"I don't know much about cooking," Hope worried. "I mean, I can take care of most of the basics, but we ate out a lot, or had something delivered, after you left us, Jen."

Jennie shrugged out of her clothes, totally comfortable nude around her sister and Arlene. "Get those pajamas off, let's get that shower, then we'll start showing you how to cook in our kitchen. With all of us helping, we have very little to do — and it's fun."

"Meet you in the kitchen," Arlene said as she hurried back to the Matthews' suite to shower and change.

-------

Jennie and Hope, holding hands, walked into the kitchen. Jeff was already there, sitting at the head of the table drinking coffee. He still had on his Gore-Tex running outfit, although he had changed out of his running shoes at the back door. There were a few flakes of snow left on his shoulders, making it obvious that he had only just now gotten back from his run.

"It's snowing outside?" Jennie asked.

"Not much," he answered as he grabbed Jennie and pulled her onto his lap. Belatedly, he realized that his openly affectionate and somewhat forceful greeting might not be the best thing for Hope to see right now, but before he could say anything, Jennie plastered her mouth to his in an obvious open-mouthed kiss.

Jeff just gave up and kissed her back. He wasn't going to sneak around behind Hope's back to kiss his own wives.

Jennie broke the kiss and jumped to her feet, a smile splitting her face. Hope stood looking down, but hadn't tried to move farther away, despite the deep blush that adorned her face.

"Good morning, Hope. Did you sleep well?" Jeff got out.

"Uh, I slept really well," she answered, although she couldn't seem to meet his eye.

"And do you still feel good this morning?"

That did it. Without thinking, she looked up at him. "I feel wonderful."

"Little One says you're welcome," Jeff said, after he relayed the information to the little alien.

"Where is she?" Hope said. "Arlene described her to me, but I don't see her." If there even is an alien here at all,  she thought.

Jeff pulled his collar aside and a moment later Little One flowed out to assume her normal shape.

Hope stared, her mouth open without her realizing it. "It's...

"Not an it," Jeff quickly corrected, "She."

Hope stood stunned. I listened to everything Arlene, Jennie and the others said, but I just couldn't believe. Not without proof, but this thing, this ... Little One, is obviously alien. Nothing acts like that. It ... she moves in Jeff's hands. If this part is true then everything else... 

"Don't let it get to you, Hope," Diana said as she walked up and hugged the girl. "We haven't lied to you, and now I think you're beginning to believe, hmmm?"

"Pet her," Selina said, walking up and doing just that. "She likes to be petted. You can feel her purr in your mind."

Jennie took Hope's hand, guiding it gently to Little One. Hope jerked her hand back. After a moment, she tentatively reached out to touch, then eventually stroke Little One. "I ... She is. She is purring. I can feel it..."

"In your mind," Selina finished for her. "In your mind."



-------

Chapter 109


Jeff watched Jennie lead Hope to the other end of the kitchen where Jennie and Melissa started showing Hope how to help out with breakfast. Every now and then Hope would look back at Little One, Hope seeming to make sure that her mind hadn't been playing tricks on her, and that there really was a small alien in the kitchen.

When Jeff again held his collar open, and Little One flowed in to spread across his back, Hope couldn't take her eyes off the process. Jeff smiled at her, and left to go shower.

Hope did what she was asked to do, accepted things that were shoved into her hands, put out tableware, and put stacks of plates and bowls on the steam table, all the while marveling at the overall process. Again and again, she expected some of the women to bump into each other as they all moved rapidly about, crossed and recrossed each other's paths while continuing to laugh and chat, apparently not worrying about collisions. They're having a ball. How can fixing breakfast be fun? They walk fast as if there isn't anyone else in the room, yet they never bump into each other, and they seem to do everything very quickly. She turned to look at the men, Jeff having returned from his shower. They're sitting on their asses, drinking coffee and joking. Probably telling bullshit stories about how many women they fucked last night.

Arlene leaned over Hope's shoulder and spoke near her ear as Hope put a container of fruit on the bar. "Mom won't let them help. She says they're men, and will only get in the way and slow things down. They're good for lifting stuff and reaching high places, though — and fucking," she whispered with a giggle. Arlene was gone before Hope could think of a reply.

When they ate, Hope sat by Diana and Jennie again. Hope felt self-conscious as if everyone were looking at her, but after awhile, she realized that they were treating her just as they treated everyone else. She, however, couldn't think of anything to say. What could I talk about? Hmmm, I guess I could tell them I fucked six old men last week; made my father a lot of money,  she sarcastically thought. I only got beat up once, though. And, oh yeah, Father tried to sell me to some foreign dude, but they got in a gunfight, instead. Everybody is dead, and I'm a whore out of a job.

Hope felt a gentle hand on hers. Odd, she seemed to sense a soothing warmth wash over her. "The bad thoughts will pass," Diana quietly said. "Give it time. Give us time."

Diana squeezed her hand and smiled at her. A smile that Hope managed to timidly return. She glanced to the head of the table to see Jeff looking at her, an expression of concern on his face. He quickly looked away, then said something to... What was his name? Dave. I think his name is Dave,  she thought.

Melissa came by and grabbed Hope's hand. "Come on, Girl. That's not nearly enough food. Let's go get a plate of fruit."

-------

Alesha and Caitlin had left for work. Diana had sent Joyce to bed. (Joyce had worked her usual night shift for the Sheriff's Department.) The dishwashers were chugging along and all the leftover food had been put away. Ann pushed a serving cart out the kitchen door on the way to the living room. The cart was laden with coffee and sweet rolls, and the men had followed it like they were starved. A laughing Selina trailed in their wake.

"They're going to get fat," Hope said, proud that she had come up with, at least, something to say.

Evie's eyes sparkled. "Well, it's a thought. But I think Little One took care of that when she enhanced us. The only thing overeating does to Dave is make him sleepy, then he wakes up horny."

Hope blushed, but Arlene bumped her shoulder with hers. "Chill out, Girl. You might as well get used to it. Put us women together and we can't seem to go five minutes without talking about sex. We just have to watch our mouths when Selina is around."

Hope noticed that Tina was blushing as much as she (Hope) was. The three new girls were grinning from ear to ear at having been included.

"Okay, Ladies," Diana said as she tapped a spoon on a coffee cup to get their attention. "Let's get our plans together." Laughing, everyone sat at the table, and Diana continued, "Tina, Selina and Hope need clothes." Diana looked toward Nicki who was nearest the door. "Go get Selina back in here, please. I forgot to tell her about the meeting."

The meeting was carried out much like the rest of the things the women did together. All the Alpha wives seemed to be on the same "wavelength." Shortly, the meeting was over, the women were off to get dressed, and Arlene was assigned to tell the men to get ready.

As soon as Arlene stuck her head in the door of the living room and gave out her proclamation about their shopping trip, Dave stood. "Well, I have to get my ass down to the farm and supervise the cleanup there, then get the crew up here to get the classrooms finished."

"Chicken," Jeff said, knowing that any one of Dave's supervisors could take care of everything.

"Damn straight," Dave laughed as he escaped out the door.

Jeff looked over at Bill and Frank. "You guys have something to read?"

"Yeah, I have some work I need to catch up on," Wainwright said. "I can bring that with me."

"I thought I would just stay here," Bill said. "I can stand an hour or two of shopping, but this looks as if it is going to be a major shopping spree."

"Hah," Jeff laughed, "you have two women now. Somehow, the more you acquire, the more determined they are that you have to suffer while they shop. Don't tempt fate. In other words, don't piss them off; just give up and go along — smiling. Trust me, you're going to go, anyway. You might as well pretend to enjoy it."

Jeff got up and took a couple of steps away, keyed his mike and alerted his security detail. Reading from a piece of paper that Arlene had pressed into his hand, he gave the lieutenant a tentative list of the stores the women were heading for and in the order they wanted to visit them. He had told the Lieutenant last night that the women would probably go shopping today, so this wasn't a total surprise to him.

When Jeff signed off, he said to the other men. "I think we are already the talk of the town with our 'parade' of Escalades, but now that we have the security detail to add to the parade, the rumor mill will be hard at work before the day is out. Oh, well, what the fuck. According to Caitlin and Joyce, I'm already referred to as 'the rich guy on top of the mountain.'"

Wainwright chuckled, "Hah, the cars aren't the half of it. Probably more like 'The rich guy on top of the mountain with all those women.'"

Bill and Frank got to their feet, and Bill slapped Jeff on the back, "My women and I were riding around a while back. We stopped at this little meadow just outside of the Rocky Mountain National Park. There was a big bull elk standing there, and he had about thirty cows in his harem. Kinda reminded me of someone I know," he laughed as he hurried out the door before Jeff could mock punch him.

"We have to get that boy another couple of wives," Jeff laughed. "He's entirely too cocky."

"So, how long do you think it will take to get Hope in your bed?" Frank asked, trying hard to keep his face straight.

"Frank, that isn't even a little bit funny. In case you haven't noticed, that young lady flinches every time I come near, and unless I'm reading her wrong, she is darn close to detesting me."

Frank had gotten to the door, but hearing the sincerity in Jeff's voice, he turned back to the Prime. "I only know the little you've told me about Hope, but Jennie's her sister, and we both know that Jennie isn't going to put up with Hope trashing you, if that's what you're thinking. Seems to me that I remember you had another female come up here a short while back, and there was no doubt, at least in her mind, that she was going to set her son-in-law straight, once and for all. And where was Susan last night, my friend? Hmmm?" Wainwright said with a grin.

"Bill isn't the only one who needs a couple more women," Jeff groused as he headed for the garage to warm up their vehicles.

A laughing Wainwright started for his suite to pick up his laptop. Jeff is right though. This is going to be a long day. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and called out to Jeff. "Wait up a minute."

When Wainwright caught up with the Prime, "You still have that list of stores."

"Yeah, sure."

"Let me have it. I think I might be able to make things go a little smoother for Diana and the rest of the women."

Jeff handed the list to Frank. "Sounds good," he said as he turned back for the garage.

As soon as Wainwright was in his suite, he was dialing. It's just a friend of a friend kind of thing, but I seem to remember...  When, Ray Tingle (Wainwright's vice president at Wainwright, Inc.) answered the phone, Frank said, "I seem to remember that you mentioned an uncle who..."

-------

Selina met Diana and Helen as soon as they came out of the Matthews' suite. "My Queen, if I might have a moment of your time, I would like to discuss something with you."

"Certainly," Diana replied.

"My clothing, accessories and various other items are being shipped and will be here tomorrow. With their arrival, there will be little that I need, and I have a credit card that my parents left with me for such future purchases. I am able to buy anything I need on the Internet with the card. In addition, there are several establishments in my area at home where the personnel know me and will allow me to make purchases with a credit card. However, my parents apparently did not think to leave money here or put money into a fund that I might draw upon for local purchases. The personnel at the stores we are surely going to will not be familiar with me, or my family. It is highly unlikely that the store clerks will accept a six-year-old using a credit card..."

Diana squatted down to be nearer Selina's height. "Your money is no good here, Selina, and your parents did try to set up a fund for your local purchases, but we declined the offer, telling them the tuition covered everything, and it certainly does. There is also something that we've been putting off telling you, but I guess now is as good a time as any. Helen?"

"You tell her, Di. I had little to do with..."

"Oh, yes you did. It was your idea, now quit being modest and tell her."

Helen also squatted by Selina. "Jeff wasn't kidding when he — well, all of us — welcomed you to the family. You are a member of this family now."

"Tell her," Diana encouraged.

Helen went on with a rush. "We sent the check for your tuition to our accountant. The money, and what it earns over the years, will be in a trust fund in your name until your twenty-first birthday. You should have a nice little nest egg by then. Particularly, if your family decides to keep you in school here throughout your education, because that tuition money will also go into the trust fund. We ask that you not tell your parents about the fund. You did say that part of their decision to put you in my school was because it was the most expensive. Right?"

"Yes," Selina quietly answered, "but..."

Diana broke in with, "We'll give you a credit card to use on the Internet, but you are family now, and there is no way our Prime will allow one of his family to use someone else's money."

Selina could only nod her head. "This is not necessary, My Queen. My family is quite wealthy and I am sure they will provide a substantial sum for me once I reach my majority."

"Well, with what they provide, plus your continuing tuition and what it earns over the years, you should be well set when you're grown, then."

"Thank you, Doctor Boswell, and thank you my Queen. I shall thank our Prime when I have the opportunity."

"In the meantime, Arlene has a card for you to use, and we'll alert the personnel in the stores where we'll be today, as well as the shops we frequent in Winter Park, that it is acceptable for you to use the card at your discretion, in case you might want to buy something when one of us isn't right there with you."

Selina hugged both of the women, and they started down the hall, each woman holding one of Selina's hands. The smile on Selina's face couldn't have been any bigger.

-------

The Matthews clan, in their little caravan of Escalades, rolled down the mountain road accompanied by their security escort.

Diana had opted to ride with Jeff. Helen drove a vehicle, Laura a third, and Bill a fourth, the family spread out among the SUVs. Diana knew that Jeff was communicating with security, because she heard an occasional word as he subvocalized on his radio. One of the security vehicles ranged out well ahead of the others to "scout out" the road; another vehicle was just in front, and there was another taking up the rear. All security personnel were in civilian clothes.

"All this security is ridiculous," Jeff muttered to himself, his voice barely audible to his Queen. "If this kind of crap keeps up, we're going to be on the six o'clock news. Hell, I half expect the General to send in air cover," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "We're just going shopping,  for crying out loud, besides," he added, "all my wives are armed, and nothing is more dangerous than a pissed off woman."

Jeff's muttering was becoming funnier to Diana by the moment. Also, thanks to Little One, she felt so good all the time that a smile seemed to constantly adorn her pretty face. They were just passing Martha's restaurant as Jeff made his comments. A couple walking in from the parking lot stopped and stared.

"Did you see that?" Jeff said as he glanced at his Queen. "Just like last time. Two people stopped and stared at us."

"So what?" Diana laughed, "chances are they have never seen this many Escalades all driving down the road at the same time."

"When we get to Winter Park, we're going to be as subtle as a dump truck in a mine field," he grumped as he glanced in his mirror to check on Helen's vehicle.

Frank Wainwright, sitting in the second seat directly behind Jeff, leaned forward and commented, "You'll get used to it. My security force certainly isn't anything like you have, but generally, every wealthy family must have some type of security. After a while, you tend to just go on your way, ignoring them unless they have information for you, or you need to tell them where you're going."

Since they didn't turn onto any side streets as they passed through Winter Park, just staying on the main highway, they were through the town with little or no notice, despite Jeff's worries. A little later, still on Hwy 40, they climbed back into the mountains, working their way toward I-70.

Diana reached over to momentarily take her husband's hand. As they rounded another curve that turned them the better part of one hundred and eighty degrees, she chuckled, "I never seem to know which direction were going in. They must have had an intoxicated snake to lay out this road. It feels like we just turned around and are headed back the way we came."

Jeff smiled over at her. "Actually, you're right, that switchback reversed our direction, and the one up ahead will do it again. It's a lot like our driveway, but the 'straight' sections are just a lot longer before the next switchback."

A few minutes later, the procession caught up with a snowplow. "Oh, well," Jeff sighed, "I guess we weren't in a hurry, after all, huh, Frank?"

Wainwright, looking up from his laptop, said, "Uh..."

Margaret, sitting beside him, looked over at her husband. "Put that down. We're on our honeymoon."

"I was just..."

"You can work on it while we're shopping. Meanwhile, let's look at the scenery. People pay a lot of money to see these mountains, but every time we come through here, you have your nose stuck in your laptop."

Frank could see Jeff grinning at him in the mirror. "Yes, Dear," Wainwright said, "on the next turn, you can look past the security vehicle at the ass end of the snowplow ahead of them. It's truly beautiful." That earned him an elbow in the short ribs, but Margaret held it down to a light tap, not wanting to really hurt her groom. Soon, they were tussling like teenagers.

DENVER

As they got out of the vehicles in the parking deck, Diana chuckled as she took her husband's arm. "I would never have thought that I would consider thirty-eight degrees (38 F) to be warm. After living on our mountain, this feels almost like shirt-sleeve weather."

"Well, the wind isn't blowing, and that's a big help," Jeff laughed. "Of course, that wind on the mountain supplies all our power, and a good part of Winter Park's, I suspect. That's a nice fat check the power company sends us every month for the electricity our wind generators produce, thanks to Frank's foresight," he finished, smiling at Frank.

"Yeah, those were an experiment that paid off. They're quite a bit more efficient than most wind generators, so we negotiated a deal with some farmers in Kansas, the Dakotas, and other places. Wainwright, Inc., now owns several very nice wind farms."

Frank slapped Jeff on the back. "Let's go see if my phone call did any good."

Diana looked a question at him, when Frank didn't bite, she asked, "What phone call? Are you talking about our shopping?"

"Let's wait and see," Frank hedged.

A few minutes later, in one of the biggest chain department stores in Denver, they descended on the Women's Department. A well-dressed man about forty years old was standing and talking to a clerk. When everyone walked in together, he turned and looked at them. After a moment, he walked up to Frank. "Sir, are you Mr. Wainwright?"

"In the flesh," Frank said, grinning.

"I'm Carl Wade, the assistant manager of the store. I would like to welcome you and your group. I have been given instructions by my superior to assist you and your group in any way I can."

"Let's step aside for a moment," Wainwright said, guiding the assistant manager several feet away. When they were out of earshot of the others, Frank continued, "All I want is to expedite this shopping trip. What it will mean to you is additional sales. In plain language, the more these women manage to buy before they become tired, the more your sales total will be. They have to purchase clothing for those three girls there," he said, nodding to Nat, Nicki, and Whitney, "that young lady there," he said, nodding to Tina, "and that girl there," he said, nodding to Hope. "The last two will need complete wardrobes. Plus, all the women will probably add things from impulse buying. And another thing," he said, nodding toward Selina, "the child there is a genius, and she will also need some things."

"Yes, Sir, I can see..."

"No, I'm not bragging on her. My statement wasn't just that of an adult being proud of his child; she is really a genius. Tell your personnel to speak to her and interact with her as if she were an adult in a child's body."

"Sir, I..."

"Don't insult her. And if she offers to pay with a credit card, take it. If you insist on an adult's signature, any of us will gladly sign before we leave. And I don't want to hear about her signature not being a legal transaction. Do we understand each other, or do I need to be having this conversation with the store manager?"

"No, Sir. Certainly not. As I said..."

"Good. Now that we understand each other, I will say again, that expediting this will reap your store greater sales this morning and probably in the future as well. See that lady there?" Frank said, nodding toward Diana.

"Yes, Sir?"

"I suggest that you go tell her what you've told me, and ask her for instructions. I also suggest that you open a register solely for our purchases, and in addition provide personnel to take merchandise into the changing rooms, and from the changing rooms to the register. If you and your personnel provide adequate service, everyone will be pleased when we leave. Including your manager. Clear? Oh, and one more thing, the men you see standing around this department are our security, so tell your personnel to not panic and think they're going to be robbed. It is absolutely the safest place anyone can be while they're here."

"Yes, Sir. No problem, Sir."

Wade didn't get to be the assistant manager because he was slow. He knew that the women were going to leave with a lot of expensive merchandise, and there was a good chance that he and the clerks would be rewarded as well.

When Wade hurried over to Diana, Wainwright walked back over to Jeff and Bill. "You came down on him pretty hard," Jeff said, frowning.

"Crap, Jeff. I keep forgetting about your hearing. How in the heck ... Well, anyway, I acted just like he expected me to. Not only that, but he'll sell more this morning to our women, particularly now that they will have plenty of assistance, than this department will sell in the next two days. Besides that, I brought a few one-hundred-dollar bills that will absolutely assure, not only that his feelings won't be hurt, but that our women will receive the red carpet treatment the next time they're here. There were two more stores on that list, and I didn't know anyone who knew anyone at either one of them. The more we buy here, the less we'll buy at those stores, and you know damn well it will take forever at the other places. Capiche?"

"Damn straight," Jeff laughed. But he still wondered about Frank's choice of words, and demeanor. He's always extremely nice to people. He never puts on the rich man routine. I wonder... 

-------

Nat, Nicki and Whitney insisted on sharing a dressing room, wanting to stay together, as usual. They were just supplementing their wardrobes, since they had already been on a shopping trip to Winter Park. But the small shops in Winter Park were limited, so Diana stressed that the girls expand their wardrobes while they had the chance.

Jennie stayed with Hope in the dressing room after Hope had browsed through the aisles and had chosen a few things to try on. Diana had looked at Hope's choices and mentally flinched. A little later she started to say something to Helen in reference to Hope's selections, but Boswell beat her to it. "She doesn't want to be seen as sexy. I certainly expected it, even from what little we know happened to her, and I shudder to think what all that child has been through."

Diana's expression reflected her anger toward what had happened to Hope. The Queen sighed. "She also picked the cheapest things she could find, and I'm not accepting that. She's quality, even if she doesn't realize it. Right now, I suspect her opinion of herself is about as low as it possibly could be. And I understand that she doesn't want to be sexy now, either, but she can still be pretty with the right choice of clothes. Want to help me?" she grinned at her sister-wife.

"You have to ask?" Helen joked.

A few moments later, "Ma'am," Diana said as she motioned one of the clerks over, then handed her several dresses. "Tell me when you can't carry any more. These need to go in that dressing room there," she said nodding as she put two more ensembles in the clerk's arms

When the clerk left with her initial load, the Queen turned back to Helen. "After we're done with pretty, we need to choose a few things that are a little sexier, and put them aside. We'll gradually work the sexier clothes in as time goes on."

"She will see them."

"Nope," Diana grinned. "We'll have the store ship them out to us, and after a couple of weeks, we can hide them in the back of her closet for her to notice when she has worked past some of her problems."

Helen frowned. "I agree to the sexier clothes, but it seems like a waste for us to buy so much and then have her not wear them any more, unless..."

"Yep, you guessed it," Diana laughed. "Carla said that her preacher was always collecting clothes for various families around the county who needed things, whether they were church members or not. Not a thing here will go to waste, and there will be a number of needy people who wind up with some quality clothing."

-------

Wade (the assistant manager) had brought in extra help. Gathering three of his personnel, he spoke to an older woman, "Sarah, take these two with you," he said, motioning. "You're in charge. You have these ladies sizes, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Raid the stockroom. Bring everything in their sizes out here — all quality items, now, no inferior things. Use some of the portable racks. Do it in a hurry. No use getting here with the merchandise after they're gone. Questions?" he said looking at the three.

"No, Sir," they chorused.

"As you get a rack full, go ahead and have one of you bring it out while the other two are filling another rack. Hurry."

Stepping smartly over to Diana, Wade addressed her. "Ma'am," he said, motioning around him. "This is only a small portion of our inventory. I have people who are going to bring more items from our stockroom and put them over there for your perusal," he said, nodding to a vacant area nearby. "I have informed my people to concentrate on the general type and quality of clothing you have been considering. Hopefully, that will be a help in your selection process."

Wainwright stood back, watching. When Wade walked away, Frank caught Margaret's eye and nodded toward Wade. Margaret winked and nodded. Looking proud of himself, Frank went back to sit with the others.

An hour later:

Bill and Jeff sat watching as Frank again talked to the assistant manager. When Frank came back, Jeff, thinking he knew what was going on, but still a little uncertain, started to ask what Frank was up to. "Frank..."

"You see what's happening?" Frank said, anticipating Jeff. But before Jeff could answer, Wainwright continued, "Just look at what Wade is doing. He had extra people waiting when we got here. He picked me out as the one he was supposed to see, as soon as we walked up. I talked to Tingle before we left, and his uncle knew the manager here, so I imagine Wade was given at least a vague description of me, but nevertheless, he figured it out when we walked in. Not only that, but now he's determined generally what the women want, and sent for clothing from the stockroom."

"He's shooting over a baited field," Jeff interrupted, grinning.

"Yeah, that's true," Wainwright laughed, "but in addition, Mr. Wade said his superior sent him to assist us. Now, considering that Tingle's uncle knew the manager, why didn't the manager show his lazy ass? You can bet that Tingle's uncle told them we would purchase a large order. I emphasized that, and Tingle would have made sure his uncle understood and passed it on. Also, Mr. Wade here didn't say the manager was in a meeting, or was otherwise tied up, so that tells me that the manager wasn't busy. Now think about it, gentlemen, and I don't mean this to be bragging, but if you owned the store and you were told a wealthy man was coming in with a sizeable group of women to purchase several wardrobes of clothing, wouldn't you get off your butt and at least put in an appearance?"

Jeff had never seen Wainwright quite in this mood. It wasn't that he was mad; he was jovial — almost hyper, even.

Wainwright continued, with, "I don't know the manager, and don't want to. Even if he has a logical reason for not being here, I don't care. What I do care about are managers in general — my managers. Look at Wade's people. It's obvious. Not only do they like him, they respect him. There are managers, certainly, who are liked, but do they get the job done? He isn't an obnoxious person, but as you would put it, Jeff, these people are stepping and fetching, and ... he's not above getting his hands dirty, either. He ran the register while that clerk took a short break, and he's helped put things in bags from time to time. I'll bet this store pays him barely enough to live on. His talents are wasted here. Mr. Wade and I are going to have a talk when the ladies are finished with their shopping."

Jeff looked at Bill and raised an eyebrow as Frank got up and went back over to Margaret. "I've seen him do this before," Bill said. "If Wade doesn't screw up, he's going to have a much better job in the very near future."



-------

Chapter 110

The three Alphas sat on a padded bench while waiting for their women to finish shopping. The men could see Helen and Selina on the other side of the store where Selina was trying on a pair of boots. The assistant manager was kneeling down in front of the child as he assisted her.

Wainwright cleared his throat to get Jeff's attention. "I'm considering meeting with Mr. Wade when he gets off work. May I invite him and his wife for dinner tonight? I've talked to Reed and he says the copter will be free after five this afternoon."

Jeff shrugged. "Fine with me, but please ask Diana as well."

"Already have," Frank chuckled. "After all, the women will be the ones cooking."

"Does he have kids?" Jeff asked.

"He mentioned that he had a couple of teenagers. A boy and a girl."

"Tell Wade that they're welcome, too. They would probably enjoy the game room."

Tina walked over, her face flushed with happiness. Plopping down in Wainwright's lap, she kissed him tenderly. "Thank you. I've never had clothes that are as nice as the ones we've just bought for me. Not to mention how many outfits Margaret insisted that I get."

"Did you get something sexy?" Frank whispered in her ear.

"Yes, lots. And ... I have a negligée that I'm going to wear for you tonight. Well, actually, Margaret and I have matching negligées for tonight."

Frank could feel his cock beginning to swell. "Uh, My Love, I think you should probably get up while I can still walk around without embarrassing myself." Giggling, Tina went to tell Margaret what happened when Frank heard about the negligées.

Eventually, Selina's shopping was finished and she, Helen and Wade walked back across the store, both adults carrying shoeboxes and shopping bags.

The packages were handed off to one of the security people to be put into the SUVs. Selina stopped before her Prime. "I have purchased several items with the card I was given. Mr. Wade and the sales lady have been exceptionally nice to me. They treated me as an adult, for which I have expressed my appreciation."

Turning to Wade, Selina stuck out her small hand. "Thank you again, Sir. I have had a pleasant experience conducting business with you."

Helen winked at Jeff, then she and Selina went to assist the other women and girls to finish up.

Wade had an odd look on his face. "It's ... startling to realize how smart that young lady actually is. Mr. Matthews, she told me about the two of you adapting your running shoes, and how much she loves her new school. I thoroughly enjoyed our short time together."

Frank stood. "Mr. Wade, could I have a moment of your time?"

"Certainly, Sir," the assistant manager responded, then followed Frank to an area devoid of customers where the two men stood facing each other.

Frank looked at the man for a moment, then, "Mr. Wade, this isn't a place where I would normally conduct this type of ... meeting, and I'm well aware that you have many duties to perform in addition to seeing that our women are well treated." As Wade started to say something, Frank waved his hand a little to signal Wade to wait. "Those things considered, I'll get directly to the point. I own several companies, and have controlling interest in several more. I'm always on the lookout for good personnel, particularly people capable of becoming the right type of managers in various levels of my enterprises. Almost immediately, I recognized positive traits and a likeable business demeanor, as you interacted with your staff, as well as your customers."

Wainwright motioned in Jeff's direction. "My ... friend and I live on a mountain near Winter Park. Jeff and I would like for you and your family to have dinner with us tonight." As Wade started to respond, Frank went on, "I can have a helicopter pick up you and your family at your convenience. There is a distinct possibility that I will offer you a position with one of my companies. Starting pay will be far in excess of what this ... company pays you. Oh, I don't know exactly what you are earning, but generally speaking this industry doesn't pay well. And before I forget, I apologize for the way I talked to you in the beginning. It was a test to see if you were easily rattled."

Wade stood looking at Wainwright, and for a second he almost started to ask questions, but then stopped himself. This conversation is a test, too. More than that, it's part of a job interview. He wants someone who can make decisions. "I assume that we should meet the helicopter at the airport. I'm off at four today. My wife and I can be at the airport by five-thirty."

"You have two children, right?"

"Yes, Sir. Two. A boy fourteen and a girl sixteen. They're responsible kids, and the sixteen-year-old watches out for her brother when we have to be away. No problem with leaving them at home."

"No. Bring them. Besides, the kids will probably enjoy the helicopter ride. Just casual dress, please. We'll all be in jeans or the like as soon as we get home. Please tell your wife that I am certain she will enjoy this evening."

As the men shook hands, Frank added. "Oh, by the way, don't bring wine, nor is any other gift necessary. I have a fine wine cellar, but unfortunately none of us drink any longer, but I'll have a special bottle ready for you and your wife, though."

Wainwright handed Wade one of the helicopter service's business cards. "Call that number just before you leave for the airport so the pilot can have the helicopter waiting for you. He'll give you directions so you can easily find him. Bring a heavy coat. The temp will be near zero on the mountain. We'll have a vehicle near the helipad waiting for you, but the wind will probably be blowing enough to make the coat feel nice between the copter and SUV."

Although Wade wanted to say more — ask a number of questions, he just said, "Thank you Mr. Wainwright; it will be our pleasure."

Wainwright turned and quickly walked back to the two Alphas, seating himself on the bench beside them with a smile on his face.

"This reminds me a little of what happened in Seattle," Bill said to Frank.

Frank leaned back and crossed his legs, proud of himself. "Yeah, I guess you're right. She turned that lab around in three months, though. Once she eliminated the deadwood and improved morale, they began to make a profit."

Bill chuckled. "Yeah. But I thought she was going to slap you when you first approached her. Once she realized you weren't putting the make on her, she paid attention, though."

"Where are you thinking of using him, Frank?" Jeff wondered.

"I have only the foggiest of ideas. I have two managers who will be retiring in the next year. He might fit in one of their positions, once he's trained. Or I'll come up with something else, or more accurately, Margaret will."

Jeff looked over at his Alpha. "How do you do that, Frank? He's..."

"Oh, bullshit, Jeff. You obviously do it, too. Whitworth sent your whole team out for your personal security. Once they had things ironed out, the security team took over — except for Carter. Lieutenant Mayfield probably asked him to stay for a while. Then again, Carter might well have volunteered to stay just to be around you. But I've also noticed that the rest of your team came back to guard the heavy weapons. The General sent the best to guard the best, and how did your team get to be the best, hmmm? You picked every last one of them, according to Carter. And being in your unit still is the goal of most every trooper on that base, again, according to Carter. The decisions you and your team make helps to keep them, and you, alive. The decisions my managers make put money in my pocket. Different fields, but both require good managers."

Jeff grinned at Wainwright. "Did anyone ever tell you that you were full of it?"

"Many times," Frank said, laughing. "Hell, sometimes they're even right. But I'm right about Wade. He'll go far with one of my companies. Margaret and I just need to figure out which job will fit him best, then train him."

-------

With everyone getting ready to head home, the security SUVs were loaded, as well as all available room in Jeff's vehicles. In the parking deck, Diana reached up and kissed her husband after he opened the door for her. "Mr. Wade is going to send a truck out with the rest of our purchases. I told him anytime tomorrow would be fine."

Jeff got in the driver's side as Diana closed her door. Kayla and Tina got in the back seat while Frank, Margaret and Selina settled in the second seat. "Did you leave the store with any makeup for their other customers?" Jeff said, laughing.

"Some," his bride snickered. "But all your women have to have makeup to be prettier for our husband, and most of us were running low."

"I can't complain about that," the Prime laughed as he started the vehicle. "All aboard."

"We're all here," Margaret said.

Jeff subvocalized something on his radio, waited for a moment, then backed out. "Let me hold that until we get out of the deck," Diana said as she took the ice cream cone from her husband.

"I'll bet those two girls in the ice cream place have never sold that many cones in such a short time. They're not bashful about charging, though."

"You're not bitching about the cost of ice cream after spending all that money on clothes are you?"

Before Jeff could answer, he noticed Diana licking his ice cream cone. "Hey, you were supposed to be holding that while I got us out of the parking deck. I didn't say anything about your eating it."

The Queen held the cone over so Jeff could take a big bite. "It was leaking," she faux-whined, trying to keep her face straight. "It needed licking. Besides, I wanted to see how that pistachio tasted."

"Well, give me a bite of your strawberry. It looks good, too."

Laughing and teasing, the family was soon back on I-70 and rolling toward the Retreat.

Later, they turned onto the first county road. About a mile past Martha's Restaurant, Selina, who was sitting beside Margaret, suddenly turned toward the window. "Stop. Stop! Please stop right now."

Jeff didn't know what had happened, but tapped his brake pedal twice to flash his brake lights and warn Laura in the next vehicle, while at the same time, he warned security on his radio that he was stopping. They weren't going fast, and as soon as the SUV came to a halt, Selina unbuckled, opened the door and shot out. Security, suddenly on high alert, piled out of their vehicles looking all around.

"Shit," Jeff muttered as he bailed out and ran around the SUV, but Selina was already past the two vehicles behind them and was tentatively climbing over the terrace of snow pushed up by the snowplow alongside the road. Her first foot stayed mostly on top of the snow/ice, but when she put her other foot down, the crust broke and she dropped in almost to her hips. Struggling, she pulled herself out, crawled on her knees past the ridge, then waded through the snow that was almost knee-deep on her.

Everyone was out of the vehicles now, and Jeff jumped the snowplow's leavings, coming down in loose snow that quickly filled his shoes. Diana slipped on the ridge and fell forward, but managed to catch herself with only one knee going down into the snow, heedless of the expensive slacks she was wearing, to say nothing of her shoes. But Jeff had finally seen Selina's quest. Laughing, he stopped beside Helen's little charge, just as the schoolmaster grabbed him from behind when her foot struck a rock hidden in the snow almost causing her to fall.

"Get it, please," Selina said, pointing into the spindly bush they were standing next to. The bush, denude of leaves, was approximately seven feet tall. On the topmost, skinny branch clung a tiny ball of fur. Scared out of its mind by its dilemma and the humans gathered around it, the kitten spat, hissed and growled.

Jeff guessed its age to be five or six weeks. Its eyes were still blue.

"Please," Selina reiterated.

With one hand, Jeff pulled the bush over a little, the cat clinging even tighter to its precarious hold. Reaching up with the other hand to the terrified ball of fury, he thought, Should have worn my gloves. He's going to rip my hand when I grab him.

The kitten struggled to another limb, almost falling as Jeff pulled the bush over more. Afraid the tiny animal was going to fall, Jeff grabbed him, knowing his own blood would soon be on the snow, but ... even though the hissing, spitting and growling seemed to double, the kitten did nothing more than threaten.

"Give him to me, please," Selina said.

Jeff held the kitten low enough for Selina to touch him. "Honey, I'm afraid he'll..."

"It won't bite me," she said, reaching out and grasping the kitten with both hands.

Jeff noticed that those little hands were shaking and he could hear her teeth chattering. None of them had taken time to put on a coat. Jeff scooped Selina up and in the process almost stepped on Carter's foot, then bumped into Kayla. The whole security team had deployed around them with Carter and Kayla practically standing in Jeff's tracks. Shit, this is a nightmare for security. They're thinking it could have been a setup to get us out of our vehicles and vulnerable. And ... both Carter and Kayla are obviously trying to stand where they can take a bullet for me. Shit!

"Let's get back in the vehicles," the Prime said. Shortly, he stood by his vehicle and subvocalized on his radio as he brushed as much of the snow off Selina as he could, "Sorry guys. I had to go after Selina. I couldn't let her be out there alone."

"No problem Colonel. It's what we get paid for," the Lieutenant returned past a chuckle.

Inside, Margaret pulled Selina's shoes off and dumped out the snow, then pulled her wet socks off. Her pants weren't too bad, but one knee was wet. With paper towels, Margaret wiped the knee of the child's pants, then wiped out the inside of her shoes. All this time, Selina sat quietly holding the kitten. "I apologize my Prime. I did not think about security. I should not have dashed off like that. It was childish of me."

Jeff chuckled a bit. "No harm done, and we've all learned from this, I think. Under other circumstances there would be no problem. But from the standpoint of security, this could have been a ploy to get us out of the vehicles where we would be more vulnerable. We will use it as a learning experience. And on the positive side, our security team responded promptly and with finesse."

"My Prime. We now need several things for my kitten..."

Jeff smiled at her, then turned to the front. On his radio, he said, "Back to the grocery store in Winter Park. We need supplies for the kitten. We can turn around at the intersection ahead."

Selina pulled her top up and tucked the shivering kitten against her bare stomach, her breath hissing out as its cold feet touched skin. Then, "Ouch," she said to the kitten as if he could understand her. "Those claws are like little needles. You have to learn better manners."

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Margaret asked as she put her arm around Selina.

Selina took the kitten out and turned him over, which started another round of hissing and spitting. "Oh, hush," Selina said as she looked at the kitten's bottom. After several seconds, she turned to Frank. "I'm unable to tell. What do you think, Sir?"

Wainwright looked closer, but shook his head. "I think it's a boy, but I'm certainly no authority on kittens. There is too much fur to really tell."

"Then we will assume it is a boy until we find evidence that the assumption is incorrect."

Jeff looked over at Diana and winked.

Getting seven SUVs turned around on the narrow road, even at the intersection, proved to take several minutes. Eventually, they were headed back toward Winter Park.

"He might have fleas," Margaret cautioned. "If so, with him against your bare skin..."

"I do not think he has any, or at least I did not see any during my brief inspection. I am almost certain he is too young to risk using a flea shampoo on, or other means of destroying the fleas. We will have to purchase a flea comb and use that to remove the parasites, if he has any, until he is old enough for more strenuous means."

"Also, we need clippers to keep those claws reduced until he is old enough to have his front claws removed, otherwise, our leather furniture is going to take a big hit," Diana said.

"I promise I will care for him. I think he will be an excellent addition to our family," Selina said as she tucked the kitten back against her bare belly.

"So, you've had a kitten before?" Margaret asked.

"Oh, no. Certainly not. My mother and father would not allow pets in the house. But I have read extensively about felines. He appears to be a mixed breed, but predominantly he is just a long-haired gray tabby. His body seems to be a little longer in proportion, though. Gray tabbies are normally a very docile breed, but I suspect he is feral. He will not be for long. You will note that his hissing has almost completely stopped already. According to my studies, he will probably reach the stage of accepting food from my hand in three or four days, possibly sooner if I have ample time to spend in his training."

Shortly they pulled into the lot of the grocery store. Jeff opened the door, but looked over at Diana when she didn't open hers. She just sat and smiled enigmatically at him. Jeff raised an eyebrow and got out, closed his door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle where Carter stood waiting for him.

Selina looked at Margaret. "Mrs. Wainwright would you please hold my kitten while I obtain supplies for him? I am certain that the grocery store personnel will not allow a cat in the building, even in this small town."

Margaret smiled at her and took the cat, which produced another round of spitting and spewing, with an occasional growl thrown in for good measure. "Billy Bad Ass," Diana laughed.

Selina stopped halfway out the door. "Excellent; an appropriate name. You have christened our new acquaintance quite fittingly. Billy Bad Ass it shall be."

Diana quickly turned around to look behind her at the girl. "Selina, I have no intention of naming your cat. I was just making a little joke ... It's your cat; you should name it."

"I just did," Selina said, getting out of the vehicle with a smile on her face.

As the door closed, the adults chuckled over the incident. Margaret held the cat up near her face. The tiny kitten growled menacingly, its ears laid back flat against its head. After a moment, she sat the cat in her lap and tweaked his ears. The growl got louder, but still he did not try to bite.

Suddenly, the little head went up and the animal sniffed the air. "Rrrowww," it said, standing tall and looking almost wildly around. "Rrrowww," it repeated. With an agility that startled everyone, it leapt from Margaret's lap to the back of Diana's seat. "Rrrowww," it said again, making the noise sound almost like a question.

It's sniffed several times. "Uh oh," Frank said, a glimmer of an idea tickling the edge of his mind. With a short bounce, it was on Diana's shoulder. Kitten-like, it landed with its claws fully extended.

"Ouch. That smarts," Diana complained as she reached for the cat, but he was already moving. Stretching himself down, he put both front paws on her left breast. "Rrrowww," he said as if it was a declaration of great intellect.

By now, Frank and Margaret had figured it out, and Frank's chuckles were gaining in volume.

"Ouch," Diana complained again as the kitten slipped, but hung on with his front claws. His back claws took a moment to catch on the slick material of her blouse, but catch they did. "Oh, no you don't, Mister," Diana said, peeling him off her.

The kitten let out with an indignant screech, his feet windmilling as he tried to get back to her breast. "He smells your milk," Frank said, unnecessarily.

"No shit," Diana hissed out as a claw raked the inside of her wrist. The tiny claws weren't really long, or strong enough to do more than prickle her skin uncomfortably, but she dropped him into her lap before she thought. That's all the kitten needed. He launched himself for her breast again.

"So feed him," Margaret said. "The milk from the store will be cold. He knows where dinner is."

Diana was tickled at the cat's antics, but peeling him from her breast without hurting him or herself was becoming more and more frustrating.

"Here," Margaret said, handing her coffee cup up to the Queen. The top on the cup screwed into the insulated lower portion. The top had a cavity and a little knob that could be turned on or off. On, when the cup was tilted, would allow liquid to flow into the small cavity, making drinking from the cup while traveling a much easier experience.

Making up her mind, Diana unscrewed the top from the empty cup, turned the valve to the Off position, unbuttoned her top and worked the front catch on her bra. There wasn't anyone in front of the SUV, and the side and back windows were tinted, but the windshield was not. She turned her body to the left in case someone walked by, and pulled the bra cup away from her left breast. When the nursing pad, soaked with milk, fell out, the cat yowled again. The Queen leaned further around to make it difficult for anyone outside the vehicle to see her naked breast, belatedly realizing that she was showing herself to Frank in the second seat.

Billy, knowing that dinner was before him, launched himself with all four paws, claws extended, toward her breast, but she managed to catch him just before he landed. "Just sit tight, Buster," Diana said. "You don't get it from the source. Just behave for a second and let me fill this lid."

Frank, his face red, reached up and grabbed the kitten while Diana milked her breast into the recess in the cup top. The recess held a couple of tablespoons, so it only took a moment to fill.

"Now then," she said as Frank handed the cat back to her. The kitten pounced on the lid, first getting a front paw wet, then dipping his nose into the milk. A snort with the accompanying splattering of milk, another partial dunking of his nose and he was lapping at the nectar as if he were starving — which was certainly true.

It only took a few moments for him to lap up the milk. "Rrrowww," he said, looking up at Diana's partially covered breast again.

"Just sit tight, Buster," Diana admonished, gently tapping him between the eyes with a fingertip. There's plenty where that came from, but you drink out of the top. Only my husband gets to drink from the source."

"Rrrowww," the small feline answered, but there was a purr mixed in with the sound this time.

Both Frank and Margaret had leaned forward watching the Queen feed the cat. "Don't even think about it," Margaret said to her husband. "The only way you're going to get any breast milk is to impregnate either me or Tina."

"I wasn't..."

"You might be surprised," Diana said as she milked more into the top. "Evie is giving milk now, and I think you've fulfilled the requirements of being a Queen. If you want to give your husband milk, it will probably happen."

"What about it, Honey?" Margaret asked.

"What?" Frank said, stalling. Then, "Look, now isn't the time for an answer. No matter what I say, I'll be in trouble. You sounded like you were jealous because I saw Diana's breast. I..."

"I was not, Frank. I was teasing. But I'm not teasing now. Would you like me to have milk like Diana. There are pros and cons, too. She has to use a breast pump every day, or chase Jeff down to do the honors."

Diana laughed from the front seat. "I wouldn't say that I have to chase him down. If we have the time, he loves to do it, but it embarrasses him a little bit, too. It's not a real macho thing to do, but the feeling of love we have for each other while he is doing it is almost indescribable."

"Want to suck titty milk, My Husband?"

"As Jeff would say, 'Damn straight, '" Wainwright laughed.

-------

Later, Kayla walked out of the grocery store, her eyes obviously searching for danger to her Prime. Selina marched behind her with a plastic bag in each hand. Jeff followed pushing a loaded grocery cart containing several litter boxes on top of many stuffed shopping bags. Carter took up the rear with a big bag of cat litter on each shoulder.

"You guys leave anything in the store?" Diana laughed as she popped the rear hatch.

The men disdained to answer, and Arlene and Kayla laughed. They managed to put their merchandise in the back after reshuffling clothing bags for a while. Finally having closed the hatch, Arlene and Carter left for their vehicles, while Selina, Jeff and Kayla quickly got back into their SUV.

"Where is my kitten?" Selina said.

"Here in my lap," Diana answered.

"He is asleep?" Selina said, leaning forward to look between the seats. "That is odd. I would have thought he was too hungry to go to sleep so easily. I bought milk and a bowl for him."

"Uh," Diana said. "I guess his belly is full," she finished, handing the sleeping kitten back to Selina.

"But what did he eat?" Selina said about the time that Diana handed her the top with a full load of breast milk in the small cavity.

"But where did you get milk..." Then her intellect kicked into gear. "But you would have to be pregnant and near term, which is obviously not true. Who?"

"She's a Queen, Sweetie," Margaret answered.

For once, the genius was almost dumbfounded. "I ... uh..."

"Queens can give milk," Diana supplied. "We still have a lot to tell you. The cat smelled my milk and was quite ... enthusiastic about finding the source. In self-defense, I put some in the cap of a travel cup. He seemed quite pleased."

Jeff was chuckling as he backed the SUV out of the parking space. "I can't wait to tell my other wives about this. Arlene will be in stitches. You don't suppose it will be bad for him, do you?" he suddenly said, fighting a snicker.

"No, of course not," Diana laughed. "We've really got to put him on Arlene's lap. I want to see the look on her face when he goes after her. And I'm here to tell you that those tiny claws of his smart when they come in contact with titty flesh." After a second, she realized what she had said. "Oops, sorry Selina."

"For what?" the genius absently said. "I am aware of the word, I just do not have any."

Laughing, they turned onto the main highway through Winter Park and started for Matthews' Mountain.



-------

Chapter 111

"We still have a problem," Diana said. "I doubt if Billy has ever used a litter box. So how are we going to train him to use it and not pee on the carpet? Since there aren't any pet stores in Winter Park, I guess we can order a kennel on the Internet and have it overnighted, but as late as it is, it will still be day after tomorrow before it gets here..."

"Yeah, we were lucky the grocery store even had litter boxes. But we're ahead of you about the kennel," Jeff said. "Arlene had an idea while we were in the store. We saw a cat at the Sperman's when we visited them that time. (The neighbors who live a mile down the mountain road from the Retreat.) Arlene called them and they have a small kennel they are loaning us. We'll stop on the way back and pick it up. Junior can live in it until he becomes accustomed to using a litter box."

A few minutes later, Jeff was obviously having a tense discussion with security as the caravan made its way up the mountain, but from the look on his face, he got his way.

"What?" the Queen asked.

Jeff frowned. "The General is..." he aborted what he was going to say because of Selina listening, then, "Uh, the General is taking security a little too seriously. From scans, the security team knows that the Spermans are the only ones in their home at the moment. We are not going into their driveway with all the vehicles. These people are neighbors — good people. We will refrain from trampling on their privacy. They moved way up here to be where it's quiet, primarily to get away from the 'hustle and bustle of society, ' as Mr. Sperman put it. Besides, we've already caused an increase in the traffic on our little road with crews to work on the ski lodge and the retreat, not to say anything about all the security vehicles coming and going. I need to apologize for that while we're here today. Somehow, we need to do something special for the Spermans to make up for any inconvenience we've caused."

Diana smiled over at her husband. "I think you're forgetting something. You have already done something special for them, something that no amount of money could buy. Little One, remember? Now, despite the Sperman's age, and health problems, they are able to ski the advanced slopes again."

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, there is that, and I wonder what else has changed about them, hmmm?"

"Jeff," his Queen admonished, then quietly, "Little ears, remember?" she said cutting her eyes toward the back.

"'Little ears, '" Selina quoted. "Those 'little ears' hear quite well, thank you. Are you implying that your elderly neighbors have now resumed sexual relations after being exposed to Little One?"

"Uh," Jeff said, intelligently.

Diana grinned at her spouse. "She reminds me of Arlene when she was quite young."

"Oh, you mean, uh..." Jeff said, chuckling.

Diana let out a quiet giggle. "Yeah, when the preacher, his wife and another couple of women were being served in our living room by Arlene while we, uh..."

"What are you two talking about?" Margaret said. "Tell us the story."

"Uh, maybe we'll tell it later..." Jeff said.

Selina piped up with, "As I mentioned before, my parents have frequently been subjected to my curiosity. I was, and still am, very curious about sex; therefore, I have spent time researching the subject in depth. My parents always locked their bedroom door when they had sex, but I had no trouble enrolling in, and graduating from, a locksmith course taught on the net. I bought a complete set of tools, including an excellent set of lock picks. Their bedroom door was trivial to open. I am well aware of sex and all its connotations, and I have watched a number of sex videos on the Internet, but real subjects certainly added to my knowledge base. At present, sex seems to be a rather large expenditure of energy for little reward, though. And for reasons I do not fully understand, my mother tends to scream at orgasm. I am, indeed, anxiously awaiting the change in my body when I reach puberty so that I might further research the subject. Surely my Prime, you can modify your language so that these 'little ears' won't be embarrassed by your dissertation."

Diana turned around in her seat to stare at Selina. "We had a similar problem with Arlene when she was about your age. I turned her over my knees and paddled her butt," the Queen said ominously. "Her curiosity took a big hit. Pun intended."

Selina blinked, then smiled at Diana. "Yes, My Queen. I would never consider bypassing a locked door in our home."

Diana wasn't so sure about that, and her frown communicated her doubt splendidly.

There was a moment of silence, then Margaret cleared her throat, "Well, Jeff, tell us the story."

"Oh, not much story to tell. Diana and I didn't have a great deal of time alone together because of school and work. Sometimes the only chance we had to make love was in the daytime, so we had a rule for Arlene. We would tell her that mommy and daddy were going in the bedroom to make love, and for her to not knock on the bedroom door unless the phone rang, or there was an emergency. We were living with Diana's parents then, and didn't have a phone in our bedroom. We had defined every type of emergency we could think of, so we thought we had everything covered — fire, someone getting hurt, etc. So anyway, one Sunday afternoon, Diana and I were ... indisposed, but I thought I heard voices. I put on a pair of pants and stepped out of the bedroom.

"Well, I could see part of the living room from the doorway, and there sat four people all dressed up in their Sunday best. It was the local preacher, his wife and two of the women from his church. They had knocked on the door and Arlene had let them in. Being a good hostess, she had dragged — she couldn't pick it up — a two-liter bottle of coke into the living room, and had gotten glasses out of the dishwasher. She had all the glasses lined up on the floor and was struggling to pour everyone a coke when I opened the door. Apparently she had just told them that we were in the bedroom making love and she could not disturb us unless there was an emergency. Now, keep in mind this was a three-year-old little girl.

"When I locked eyes with the preacher, my hair was down in my face, I was buckling my pants and I didn't have a shirt on. I really don't know who was more embarrassed — the preacher or me. What I had been doing was blatantly obvious. The women with him were instantly busy heading for the door, while the preacher stammered out who he was, quickly apologized for disturbing us, then turned and almost ran out the door after the women. Di laughed until she almost peed herself. It took me years to view the incident as funny, though, and we never did attend that church."

"By the time I got to the front door," Diana added, "they were in their car and backing down the driveway. We didn't get any more visitations from them."

"But..." Selina said, frowning. "Why were you embarrassed, and why did they suddenly leave? Arlene had welcomed them, and sex is a natural function of a marriage, is it not?"

There was a long pause. When it became obvious that neither Jeff nor Diana was going to answer Selina, Frank finally cleared his throat. "Arlene was three?" he asked.

Jeff sniggered. "Yep. And she didn't spill a drop of the coke, either."

"I would love to hear the preacher's version of that story," Margaret said, laughing.

Diana broke in, "The incident didn't bother Arlene one bit, even after she was old enough to realize what had been going on, but I thought for a while that it had marked Jeff for life," she finished, giggling.

When they got to the Sperman's drive, Jeff turned in, followed shortly by the SUV that Arlene was riding in. When they parked in the front, Steve Sperman opened his front door and stood waiting for them. As Jeff started to get out, he looked back over his shoulder. "Come on, Selina. I want you to meet the Spermans. They're really nice people."

"Certainly, My Prime," Selina said. Then turning to Margaret, "Mrs. Wainwright, would you please hold Billy? I shall return shortly."

Margaret took the grumbling kitten as Jeff, having walked around the vehicle, took Selina's hand, worrying she would fall on a patch of ice. Diana and Arlene exchanged knowing smiles that Jeff didn't catch.

On the porch, they were quickly ushered into the house where Diana introduced Steve and Marcy to Selina. Selina stuck her little hand out to shake hands, just as an adult would. Marcy took Selina's hand, then bent to hug her, as did Steve.

Selina looked up at the couple. "I certainly appreciate the loan of your kennel. I shall purchase one on the net and will return your property as soon as possible."

The Spermans exchanged a look, then, "Honey, you don't have to be in a hurry to return the kennel. We used it to train our cat several years ago when she was a kitten. We have no use for the kennel, and I see no reason for you to buy your own. Just keep it until you're done with it."

"Yes, Ma'am. That is certainly kind of you. I will do that."

The Sperman's tried to get the family to sit in the living room, but Diana said they had things to do at home and couldn't stay this time.

"So, how are you guys feeling?" Jeff said.

Both of the Spermans instantly looked hard at Jeff. "I think you know exactly how we're feeling," Marcy said. "We look ten years younger, and suddenly our bodies are fit again. We've even dragged our exercise equipment back out. All this started immediately after we spent the night with you."

Jeff cleared his throat, "Uh, I would appreciate it if you would..."

"No need. No need," Steve said. "We know you're an inventor. If you want anyone to know, you will tell them. We have each worked on secret projects, and no one not involved in the project ever heard a thing from us. We appreciate what you have done, and certainly will not dishonor your trust by our loose talk. A couple of acquaintances noticed when we went skiing, but we told them we had started an exercise regimen accompanied by the intake of a whole range of supplements. All that is true, of course. We're pretty much loners, anyway, so they seemed to accept the reason for us appearing to be younger, and told us to keep up whatever we're doing."

"We appreciate it," Jeff said.

Steve stepped down the hall for a moment, then was quickly back with a folded wire kennel. "It just opens like so," Steve said, partially unfolding the kennel until it was readily evident how it worked.

"Here's a book that came with it," Marcy said as she handed it to Selina. "It tells how to care for your kitten and how to easily train him or her to use a litter box."

"I considered bringing Billy in to introduce you, but he seems to be feral and would not be a good guest at present. I will bring him to visit after he receives his training, and proves himself trustworthy."

"We will be looking forward to that," Marcy said.

Diana hung back as the family walked out the front. The Queen leaned over and whispered into Marcy's ear. "We haven't tested her, but we suspect her IQ is off the charts. I'll call you tomorrow and we can have a chat."

"Please do that," Marcy said, her face breaking into a smile.

THE RETREAT

Jeff told the Lieutenant to back their vehicles as close to the rear door as they could. Jeff backed his vehicle into the inside garage, and then Laura, Helen and Bill did the same thing.

"Where do you want your loot?" Jeff asked his Queen with a grin as he opened the hatch to their vehicle.

"It's all hopelessly mixed by now," Diana replied. "Just put everything in the living room. We'll sort it out a little later."

Jeff passed the information on to the Lieutenant via radio. When Jeff put his load of packages in the corner of the living room, he told the computer to open the back door for the security team. With all the family to help, plus the security officers, the vehicles were unloaded in short order.

As they stood looking at the pile of sacks, "Well done, Lieutenant," Jeff said as he put a hand on Mayfield's shoulder. "Sorry about the incident coming up here. I should have grabbed Selina before she made it out the door. She surprised me. She realized her mistake, and has apologized for it, but I'll have a talk with her and all my family. That, of course, was just a stray kitten that someone had thrown out, but the possibility exists that it could have been a ploy to get us out of our vehicles, and we would have been vulnerable to sniper fire. I personally think that the attack here was a onetime thing, but better safe than sorry. I will prepare my family so we never do anything like that again."

"No problem, Colonel. It gave us another chance to test our training. We're coming together as a team more every day."

Jeff stood watching as the Lieutenant walked down the hall and turned the corner to catch up with his people.

While the two men were talking, Arlene had gone by carrying the kennel. Selina had walked beside her clutching the kitten to her chest with one hand and carrying one of the smaller bags from the grocery store in the other. Jeff grabbed a bag of cat litter, a full-sized plastic litter box, and the smaller, eight by eight-inch disposable baking pan he had gotten at the grocery store, then hurried to Selina's suite.

When Jeff got to Selina's rooms, Arlene had the kennel set up and was sliding the bottom pan/floor in. He opened the bag of cat litter and poured some into the small pan, then set it in the cage.

Selina kissed Billy on the nose, prompting another of his growls, which she ignored. Putting him inside the cage and closing the door, she continued to talk to him as if he were human. "Now you behave while I fill your water bowl. You have ingested milk and it is logical that you will need to use the bathroom shortly. You will not be allowed to leave your kennel on your own until you become proficient with the use of your litter pan. I have purchased carpet cleaning materials, but I will be displeased if I have to use them. Now you should investigate your new home while I obtain water for you."

Selina took the water dish out of the grocery bag and went to the bathroom to fill the dish. Jeff put the full-size litter pan close to the kennel and filled it halfway with cat litter, then put the hood on the pan.

The kitten, wary of the shiny aluminum foil pan in his kennel, finally got up the nerve to cautiously smell around it, then apparently finding it to his liking, climbed in. After digging a little in the litter, he squatted and peed. Selina returned and put the partially filled bowl in Billy's cage. Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, she quickly thumbed through the booklet that Mrs. Sperman had given her.

Lecturing to Jeff: "The booklet said that most kittens are born with a natural instinct to urinate and defecate in sand or soil. I am to make sure he knows where his litter box is when he is out of the kennel, and he should be near the box after waking, eating, or my playing with him." Taking notice of the wet spot in the litter, she continued, "Oh, I see that he has already christened his pan. Excellent."

Opening the kennel door a crack, she reached in and petted Billy, which produced another growl. Selina giggled as the tiny kitten spat and threatened. "Billy Bad Ass," she said repeatedly in a singsong voice. "Billy Bad Ass. Billy Bad Ass."

As Jeff left, Selina was lying on the floor by the kennel, teasing the kitten by wiggling a finger through the bars. Just as Jeff looked back, the kitten jumped on her finger, then ran back to the other side of the cage. The little girl was grinning from ear to ear, the genius in her momentarily forgotten as she played with her tiny pet.

-------

A short time later, Jeff and Diana were standing in the kitchen. "What about our guests?"

"What about them?" Diana said, affecting a quizzical air.

"Well, uh, it's almost five." Oh, shit. She's messing with me, but I know they have to start cooking soon,  he thought. Then, "Well, I thought you would have to hurry home to cook..."

Diana took pity on him; he was a man, after all. "I thought we would do something a little different. We haven't eaten by the pool in a while, so we'll put a salad bar out there, and grill some steaks. We can microwave some ears of corn still in the shuck. We have potatoes in to bake, and we'll probably have a couple more things to choose from. For dessert, we'll have some of that vanilla ice cream you like so much that has the chips of vanilla beans in it. That will go good with the frozen peach cobblers we had delivered the other day with our grocery order. You might want to bring in another big grill from one of the other decks and get the grill hooked up to the vents. With two grills, we should be able to get the steaks ready in no time. Want to cook the steaks?"

"Not bloody likely," Jeff laughed, knowing she was teasing him. "We've gone over this time and time again. I love the way you and my other wives cook. I can burn a piece of meat just as well as most men, but when my wives cook, it tastes better. Just point me toward something you need carried, or done. I'll do my part and leave the cooking to the ones who know what they're doing."

Diana grinned at him, having known what he would say. "Well said, my Husband. Now go fetch that grill and get things set up by the pool. If Frank and Bill are through bringing in packages, please send them to the kitchen. They can carry stuff to the pool for us."

MIAMI, FLORIDA

Fred, Jessica, Carla, Audrey and Brenda had gotten up early. Having finished breakfast, they sat on their folding chairs just outside the RV, enjoying the early Florida morning. "Where to ladies?" Fred said, smiling as usual as he looked at his pretty mates. The women were quiet for a moment as they glanced at each other. "Come on now. I hear really well, enough to know that you had a discussion last night. So where have you decided to go next?"

"Home," Carla said. "We've seen all of Florida that we want to for now. Let's go home."

Fred's eyes were drawn to Audrey. "What about it, My Sweet? Colorado is a long way from Georgia."

Audrey blushed and said, "My home is with you, and you know it. I made that decision when we left my RV park ... Unless you don't want me," she finished, quietly.

Fred got up, took the few steps to where Audrey was sitting, and with an ease that startled her, reached down and picked her up. Turning, he sat back down with her in his lap. After gently touching his lips to hers for a moment, he quietly said, "That's the last I want to ever hear anything like that from you. I love you, just as I love each of you. All equal; no difference ever. And I apologize for my comment. I didn't mean to even imply that you would not want to be with us. I just meant that it might be a while before we come back to this area, and I wanted to make sure you were ready to leave, My Love."

Audrey hugged him, then put her head on his shoulder. "I want to see that big farm. I want to be part of it."

Brenda came over and kissed the top of her husband's head. "I've only seen it through my husband's eyes while I was ... part of him, I guess you could say. I imagine we're all anxious to get there."

"And have Jeff and Diana marry all of us," Jessica said, as she got up and folded her chair. "Let's roll, Big Man. The only one of us who doesn't have a CDL is Brenda, and from what I read on the net, her regular driver's license will suffice for the RV once we reach Colorado. In other words, we can all take a turn driving."

Ten minutes later, the chairs were stored in their compartment and the big rig pulled out of the campground. They had cruised up I-75 until they had reached I-10. Afterward, they pulled into a rest area for a late lunch. Carla took over the driving when they left.

Fred sat next to Carla, but forced himself not to comment, although he wanted to tell her to pay attention to her mirrors and rear view screen. But she swung wide as she maneuvered them out of the big rig parking space in the rest area, making sure the PT Cruiser cleared. She merged effortlessly with traffic as they pulled back onto I-10, the barely-heard purr of the big engine in the rear effortlessly pushing them back up to seventy.

Fred patted Carla on the shoulder as he got up to join the rest of his women at the table. "Strip poker?" Jessica said, teasing Fred.

"Not without me, you don't," Carla said from the front.

Laughing, Jessica cut the cards. "Well, poker anyway. Even if Momma is a spoil sport."

"We'll see who's a spoil sport when we stop for the night," Carla said.

Fred smiled at Jessica. "So, when were you going to tell me you had a CDL?"

Jessica looked at Audrey and both of them laughed. "You were having such a good time driving, we didn't want to spoil it," she chuckled.

"So why would you need..." Fred started.

"We live on a farm, Silly. How do you think all those cattle get to market, or the corn and wheat, for that matter? Sometimes the best market is several hundred miles away."

"But, you could have been driving..."

"None of us wanted to drive the RV in traffic. I-10 is different. All you have to do is aim this thing West. Besides, when that woman cut you off on our first day, it scared the crap out of us. If that had been me driving, I'm afraid our trip would have come to a halt right there, and that woman would have been in the hospital. When we get near the big cities, our man will be driving, or if you're tired, we'll stop. I'm a small town girl. All that heavy traffic scares the crap out of me. And Momma is the same way."

"Don't look at me," Audrey said, laughing. "I got my CDL because of my RV park. I can drive this, but I won't be comfortable doing it. But like Jessica said, anyone can pilot this thing down an almost deserted Interstate. So I'll take my turn if you need me to."

By late afternoon, Jessica and Audrey had both spent time at the wheel, not that Carla was tired, but just to let them get used to driving the RV.

While Diana and her mates were getting ready to receive visitors, Fred and his women pulled into a rest area near DeFuniak Springs, Florida. Due to the time difference, it was past seven, and everyone was tired. Carla, again behind the wheel, eased into a parking space at the far end of the lot. Shutting down the engine, she activated the blackout curtains. A moment later, she was sitting in Fred's lap in their small living room. "I'm horny, Baby," she said as she pressed her breasts against Fred's chest. "Why don't you make love to us, then we'll get some rest. First one of us who wakes can get us moving again."

A couple of hours later, Carla sat in the driver's seat; soon, Jessica slid into the right seat. "Let her roll, Mom," Jessica giggled.

Easing out of the parking area, Carla nosed the RV onto the Interstate and brought the rig up to speed. "Not sleepy, My Daughter?"

"Nope, but we sure put him away," Jessica giggled. "He's soundly asleep."

"Maybe so," her mother said. "But I had to put a pad in my panties, and you got a load before I did. So you probably have more in you than I do."

"Yeah," Jessica giggled. "One of the drawbacks of having an Alpha as a mate, I guess. Or not. It makes me feel..."

"Like we belong to him," Carla finished for her.

"Yeah," Jessica agreed, "plus it makes me come bigtime when I feel it gushing inside me."

Mother and daughter giggled like the teenager that Jessica was while Fred slept with Audrey and Brenda snuggled against him.

THE WADE FAMILY JUST OUTSIDE THE DENVER AIRPORT

"I'm not sure about this, Hon," Wade's wife, Lyla, fretted. "We don't know these people, yet we're going to be taken to their home in a helicopter. I've never ridden in a helicopter, and I'm not sure I even want to. I know this Mr. Wainwright has offered you a job, but you have a job. Granted it seems like you'll never get that manager's position they promised, but still..."

"Lyla, you know that my manager has to recommend me before I will ever be considered for a manager's position. I've been the assistant manager here for five years, and he still puts me off. My last raise was two years ago, and it was only three percent. He sits on his ass and does nothing, when he bothers to show up for work at all. He's family. They aren't going to fire him no matter what he does, or doesn't do. He usually stops by most times before he heads to the golf course with his cousin, or wherever else he ends up. I'm running the store, and have been for years. He's never going to recommend me; it would mess up his good thing if they promoted me and sent me to another store. If Mr. Wainwright's job offer is real, I'm going to take it."

"What would you be doing? Are we talking about something here in Denver, or somewhere else? I don't know about having to move."

From the back seat, Dani, their daughter, spoke up. "Mom, Kevin and I hate our school. Dad, you know how much Kevin and I hate it, so don't hold back because of us. Kevin just got his butt kicked again by that football bully, and the principal didn't do a thing about it. Football rules the school. That's all they think about. A football player can get away with anything ... Uh ... as far as we're concerned, go for it, Dad. Tell him, Kevin," she said, elbowing her brother in the ribs.

Kevin looked mystified as he pulled an ear bud out of his ear for a moment, "What she said," he tried to agree, but they all knew he hadn't heard a thing.

His sister elbowed him again. "You're a lot of help," she complained.

"I'm still worried about this," Lyla said to her husband

"Look, Honey, I checked out Mr. Wainwright on the net. I've heard something about him, but I guess I never paid much attention before. From what I read, he's not someone who seeks the limelight, but he's apparently a multi-billionaire who owns a string of companies. One of the articles claimed he's a workaholic. If that were true, he would certainly be a change from what I have for a boss now. But then again, I suspect I would probably never see Wainwright after he hires me — if he hires me. He has too many people working for him to ever notice me, but still, if the job sounds good enough, I'm going to take it. My job is a dead-end. Boykin is never going to recommend me for a manager's position — not as long as I'm doing his job for him."

"But what about our house? With the way the market is now, we'll never be able to sell the house for what we have in it. We can't make two house payments, or rent wherever he sends us, and maintain our payments on our house here in Denver..."

"Look, Lyla, Mr. Wainwright promised me that you would enjoy your night, so let's concentrate on that. From what I read about him, he literally preaches integrity. With the way the business world is today, to say that's unique is a gross understatement. I would like to work for someone with integrity ... even if I'm so far down the totem pole, that I never even see him again. Let's just enjoy ourselves tonight while we rub elbows with the wealthy."

Wade glanced in the mirror at his son. Dani reached over again and jerked an ear bud out of Kevin's ear. "Thank you, Dani," her father said. "Kevin, put the player in your pocket. If I see anything in your ear until we get home, I'll take the player away for six months. That is a promise. Be with us tonight, Son. I have good kids, and how you act will influence how Mr. Wainwright views my capabilities. Just think better school and hang in there with us. This might just be our chance."

THE RETREAT

Jeff pushed a grill into the room where the pool was located.

HELICOPTER APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH — IDENTIFIED AS CAPTAIN REED'S AIRCRAFT. SECURITY HAS GIVEN CAPTAIN REED PERMISSION TO LAND, the AI said, it's voice coming from a new monitor hanging on the wall. The hi-res picture zoomed in on the helicopter as it crested the mountaintop.

"Thank you," Jeff answered without thinking.

YOU ARE WELCOME, SIR, the AI promptly responded.

Jeff stared at the monitor. I don't even know where the computer is that's running the AI program. I saw Dave and one of his techs in here the other day. They must have been putting up the new screens all over. Apparently there's a camera on the monitor. His sharp eyes picked out the tiny lens after a moment. That friggin' program is sounding more and more alive by the day. Laura, Helen, Ann, Arlene and I need to have a sit-down. But every time I try to get one of them to give me information, they just tease me. It's their big secret and they think it's hilarious that the program is getting smarter, not to say anything about their teasing me with it. But the grin on his face belied his thoughts.



-------

Chapter 112

The scene shifted an instant before Jeff asked the AI to show the helipad. On the screen, an Escalade, driven by Arlene, stopped well back until the helicopter settled and its rotors had stopped. Reed and his wife exited the copter, then assisted the Wade family in getting out. Arlene drove her vehicle nearer the helicopter, stopped, got out and opened the doors of the Escalade.

Jeff Watched as Wade, carrying a large bouquet of flowers, obviously introduced his family, then Arlene ushered everyone, including the two pilots, who had also been invited for dinner, into the SUV for the few hundred foot trip to the inside garage.

A few minutes later, Arlene escorted the Wades into the pool area, where she introduced everyone. The first thing the Wades noticed was the glass wall and the view of the deep snow with the backdrop of mountains. "It's so beautiful," Lyla whispered, taking her husband's hand.

"We love it, too," Diana said.

Wade suddenly realized he was still holding the big bouquet. Quickly turning to Diana, "We brought these. We hope you will like them."

"They're beautiful," Diana said as she took the bouquet, "Thank you so much. We'll keep them out here for now, and put them in our bedroom later so we can smell them all night." The women oohed and aahed over the flowers, then the Queen set the vase on a table.

This was the Reeds' second meal to share with the Matthews, and the married pilots had brought a large box of Godiva chocolates on their first visit.

"How do you like your steaks," Melissa asked their guests.

When both families had given their preferences, Jennie turned to the Wades' youngsters. "Do you guys swim?"

"Uh, yeah," Kevin and Dani said, almost in unison.

"But we didn't bring our suits," Dani added.

"Ah, that's no problem. Come on. We have time to find you suits before supper. Then, after we eat, you can put them on and we'll have a ball in the pool."

The men wandered off to talk.

As Laura and Helen put the steaks on the grills, Diana addressed Lyla and Charlene, "Have either of you tried using the microwave to cook ears of corn instead of boiling them?" the Queen asked.

"Yes, I've tried it," Lyla responded, "but it seemed to dry the kernels out..."

"Me, too," Charlene said, "but I went back to boiling the ears."

"Ever tried roasting the ears in the microwave with the shucks still on? I mean husks," Diana laughed. "We're from Georgia, so we call the husks, shucks. Anyway, if you leave the husks on until you have cooked the corn in the microwave, the husks come off even easier, and the silk just practically falls off with one swipe of your hand," she finished. Putting on a pair of rubber cooking gloves to handle the hot corn, Diana then demonstrated on an ear that she had just removed from the microwave. "We think the corn is tenderer, and the flavor seems more intense. If nothing else, you don't have to use a brush to get the silks off when you microwave the ears."

"Where did you learn to do this?" Lyla said, noting that the kernels appeared to be soft and the ear was totally devoid of any of the silks.

"From the lady who lives in the next house down the mountain. She also gave me a recipe for the best home-baked doughnuts you have ever put in your mouth."

"Could we..." Charlene started.

"You bet. We'll give you both a copy of the recipe before you leave."

A few minutes later, Diana looked up at the monitor. "Computer."

YES DIANA.

"Would you locate everyone and tell them to come eat."

CERTAINLY, the computer promptly returned.

A few seconds later. EVERYONE HAS BEEN NOTIFIED.

"That's a joke, right?" Lyla said, looking hard at the monitor.

Diana hesitated for a second, knowing that Helen, who was standing near, was uncomfortable if her sister-wives referred to her genius. "We're blessed with some very intelligent people in our family. Several of them are working to create a true artificial intelligence."

Charlene glanced at the monitor, then back to Diana, "I read a little science fiction, but other than sci-fi, I've always heard that AI's are years away, at best."

"Perhaps they are," Helen said as she opened a microwave to remove the last of the corn, "but Laura and Ann have been working on this program in their spare time for quite a while. Now that we can help them, things are moving a little faster. Although the program is becoming smarter, we are still a long way from true intelligence, let alone self-awareness. Maybe some day."

-------

Meal over, Frank and Margaret invited Carl and Lyla Wade to Wainwright's office. Frank didn't sit behind his desk, but sat with the others, making the meeting a more relaxed one. Coffee in front of everyone, the two Wainwrights outlined what Frank had in mind.

Wade frowned, "But this..."

"Sounds too good to be true," Lyla broke in and finished for her husband.

"We've been told that before," Margaret said, smiling.

Wainwright crossed his legs and leaned back. After glancing at Margaret for a moment, he turned back to Wade. "Look, Carl, there's no better way to say this. We'd like to ask you some questions. And I would, of course, appreciate some very candid answers." As Wade started to say something, "No, please just hold on a moment, and let me explain. I didn't mean to imply that you would lie, or anything like that, but equally, I don't want you to be modest, either. I just need some facts. Margaret and I both think you will fit in well with our enterprises, but the more we know now, the more the reward will be for all concerned in the future. This isn't really a job interview, per se. We already know that we want you, but we need some details as we consider where to put you."

Wade intervened with, "I know what the federal guidelines for interviews are, and frankly what little an employer is allowed to ask, answers few of the things the company representative needs to know to intelligently hire a person — me, in this instance. I'm not going to try to sue, and I'm not ashamed of anything I have done, so let's get to the things you need to know."

Wainwright debated for a moment, then, "How about just giving us a five minute summation of what you do at that store — what your responsibilities are and how you accomplish them. Not necessarily just what the assistant manager's position entails — what your objectives are there and what you actually do to accomplish them."

"Tell him, Hon," Lyla said. "You've been the real manager of the store for years without getting any credit for it. Tell the man what you do."

It took Wade almost ten minutes to give his synopsis because of an occasional interruption for clarification by Margaret or Frank. When Wade was done, Frank looked at Margaret, then back to Wade. "Education?"

When Wade answered, Frank smiled again.

"You don't have to answer me if you had rather not, but what's your salary at the store?"

"Not as much as it should be for his position, let along for what he actually does," Lyla said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but only partially succeeding.

Carl sighed, and told the Wainwrights.

Frank turned to Margaret, yet again. When she smiled and nodded her agreement, he went to sit behind his desk, turned to his computer, brought up a contract and filled in the blanks. The printer spit out the short document. Wainwright put it in a file folder and handed it to Wade. "Margaret and I will give you two some privacy while you read that. If you want to have your attorney look at it, that's fine, too, but my employment contracts are short and to the point. When you have finished, just dial 181 on the intercom." With that, the Wainwrights, hand in hand, walked out of the office.

The Wades, sitting together on the couch, read the short contract. Lyla, who read a little faster than her husband, sat back when she was through. When Carl finished, he leaned back beside his wife. Neither said anything for a moment, then Lyla quietly said, "Is he serious?"

Her question was obviously rhetorical, yet Carl sighed and answered, "I don't know. How can he present us with a contract where we set the price of our house? Logically, he should ask for a current appraisal and go from that. By the wording, we could demand three times what the house is worth, and he would have to pay it. Heck, I can't imagine him even taking on the responsibility of our house. He could just as well never mention it. What we do with our house is our problem, not his. Some companies will pay for moving expenses, but this ... He's putting one hell of a lot of faith in me. Maybe what we ask for our house is part of the test."

Lyla nodded at the contract lying on the coffee table. "And ... he's offering to have us live in one of his houses for up to a year — rent free — while we find our own home in the Saint Louis area. He's even offering tutoring for our kids if we think they need it after having to change school systems."

Both had avoided the elephant in the room, but finally, Lyla said, "The salary he listed must be a typo. I know you're the best, Hon, but a starting salary that's three times what you make now for a job you haven't even trained for ... How can he do that?"

"So, you think he's lying?"

It was Lyla's turn to sigh, "No. No, I don't."

"What about the kids? Should we make sure..."

"They're already on board, Carl. They made that abundantly clear before the helicopter ride. If you don't take the job, you're going to have to do some tall explaining to them."

"You know that asshole will fire me the instant I turn in my notice."

"So, tell Mr. Wainwright that. See what he says. This," she said, picking the contract up from the coffee table, "says your salary starts when the contract is signed."

The Wades hugged, then Carl picked up the phone, punched Intercom, and dialed 181.

-------

All the girls were swimming, even Hope. Since there had been guests tonight, none of the girls wore bikinis, and the two-piece suits were modest. Hope had not been able to find a bathing suit on their shopping trip, since this wasn't swimsuit season. She had tried to hold out for a one-piece as she looked through the available suits at the Retreat, but Jeff's young wives wouldn't hear of it. The two-piece Hope chose was modest, but still it showed far more than she wanted it to. She had worn a wrap, but hiding her body in it didn't last long before Jennie snatched it off and gave Hope a shove into the pool.

Kevin Wade, just as most fourteen-year-old boys would with all the half-dressed female flesh around, was struggling to keep his erection from showing. He went to the bathroom twice. Almost everyone there knew what those bathroom visits probably entailed. His memory of tonight would provide masturbation material for months to come.

After the guests were gone, the mood changed and the tempo picked up as the enhanced young women cavorted in the water, their sleek bodies moving at speeds that Selina had never seen before. She knew she swam well — very well for someone her age, but her tiny body could not compete with what was going on in the pool. She scrambled onto the side to watch, enthralled. The young women, dived, swam under and over each other, cutting through the water like hyped-up seals. Many times, they seem destined to hit each other, but never did. Then each one rocketed through the water to suddenly turn upward and shoot out to stand by the edge of the pool, dripping water.

Laughing and giggling, the young wives and girls ran to change, with Selina following them. Shortly, Selina, now dressed, was back with her kitten. Dave, Evie, and Dave's younger wives, Linda and Kim sat near Jeff, Diana, Susan, Helen, Laura and Caitlin. (Joyce was getting ready for work.) When Selina walked up with her kitten, it spotted Diana. "Meowww," it said while squirming to get free.

"He wants to see you," Selina said, walking over to Diana and holding the kitten out.

When Diana took him, "Meeeooowwwe," it said louder, sniffing the air.

Diana held him up to her face, staring him in the eye. "Oh, no, Junior. That was an emergency. You're on cat food and cow's milk now."

"Meoww," Dave said, nuzzling Evie's neck.

"Maybe I should put you on cow's milk, Big Boy," Evie laughed.

"Do you lactate also?" Selina asked a startled Evie.

"Well, uh," Evie got out.

"So you must be a Queen, too?"

"Yes," Diana interrupted, "she is."

"Interesting," Selina said, obviously preoccupied with her own thoughts as she turned and walked toward the window, where she stood looking out into the dark.

Diana put Billy down on the floor.

"There isn't a litter box in here," Jeff cautioned.

Diana chuckled. "No, but he can't hurt this floor, and besides, as small as he is, one paper towel should suffice if he has an accident."

Susan, sitting nearby, said, "Cats are dirty creatures."

"Mother," Diana said, "they are not. You never let me have a cat when I was small, but it's time you got over whatever you have against them."

"I just don't like..."

"Mmmeeeowww," Billy said as he stopped in front of Susan, his tiny nose sniffing.

"Get away from me. Shoo, scat, or whatever you respond to."

The kitten's head turned to lock on Susan as if he had radar. "Mmmeeeowww?" he questioned, coming closer.

"Uh oh," Jeff said, just as the kitten launched himself, landing on Susan's pants-covered leg.

"Ouch," Susan hissed as Billy, tiny claws extended, used the material like a ladder as he climbed quickly up her leg and onto her lap.

"Oh, shit," Jeff said.

Billy jumped again, landing on Susan's left breast. She grabbed the seat of her chair with both hands, trying to shrink away from the small feline. "Get it off me," she hissed out.

"Mother, don't you hurt that cat," Diana warned.

"Hurt it?" Susan whined. "I'm not going to touch it, but it's attacking me. Get it off. I can't stand cats."

Billy, his tiny claws still extended for purchase on her blouse, took a few steps to plant his cold nose against Susan's neck. The woman froze, her face turned, and her eyes trying to stare down at the cat that suddenly decided to lick her with his rough tongue.

Chill bumps flushed Susan's arms and neck. "Get it off me," she said again, weakly.

"Mmmeeeowww," Billy said as he turned around to inspect her breast.

Diana got up just as Selina realized that something was happening and ran back.

"Did Billy misbehave?" the six-year-old asked.

"Yes," Susan hissed out.

"No," Diana laughed at the same time.

"Mmmeeeowww," Billy said again, sniffing.

"Forget it, Buster," the Queen said, laughing as she pulled the kitten from Susan's blouse and handed him to Selina.

"Why did that thing come after me?" Susan said.

"Motherrr," Diana said, drawing the word out, "he's a kitten, not a thing. And as for why; he smelled your milk. I fed him some of mine while we were at the grocery store."

"You ... you nursed a cat? You fed it your breast milk?"

"Well, I didn't let him nurse. I just squirted some of my milk into the top from one of our go-cups. He seemed to like the milk just fine."

"Mmmeeeooww," Billy said, looking at Susan. There was a tiny purr mixed in with the sound.

"He likes you, Susan," Jeff said, laughing.

"Well, I don't like him," she shot back.

Selina held the kitten up in front of her face, staring him in the eye, but saying to the others, "I fed him some wet kitten food and some warm half and half. He prefers the warm milk."

"I doubt if he was even weaned before someone threw him out," Diana said, her voice taking on a harshness that showed what she thought of a person who would do such a thing.

"Well, he has a good home now," Jeff said as he sat Selina on his lap with her still holding the kitten. Jeff ruffled the kitten's fur, teasing him. The tiny growl made them all smile.

"Selina, give the kitten to Jeff for a moment, and come here, please. I need to ask you something."

"Yes, My Queen," Selina said, sliding down.

Jeff was suddenly holding a growling kitten. He brought the kitten up to his face and rubbed his nose against the kitten's. "Rrrowww," it said, then hissed.

"Here. Sit in my lap," Diana said to Selina.

"Yes, My Queen." Selina hopped up with a little boost from Diana.

"Halloween will be here shortly. We have planned to stop at several neighbors' houses, then go down to Carla's church for a trunk or treat."

Selina frowned. "I have heard of this 'trunk or treat, ' but I am little impressed with the thought of walking from vehicle to vehicle in a church parking lot while begging for candy."

Diana inwardly smiled at Selina's reference to begging, thought for a moment, then, "We are certainly aware of your intellect, but I would differ with you about the 'begging.' We can even understand to some extent that you might think this would be beneath your dignity, and we respect that also, but we will not ignore your childhood. Being a little girl is important, too. Now, what costume would you like to wear?"

"I..."

"I still have a Spike the Gremlin costume that I made for Arlene when she was in the first grade." (Spike was a bad gremlin from the movie: Gremlins.) "We won a contest with the costume two years running. The school usually didn't let the same child win two years in a row, but there were different judges the second year, and no one knew it was Arlene in the outfit, anyway..."

Arlene, hearing the conversation, came over to add, "I won the next year with a bat costume Mom made. She makes costumes that are so realistic that the creature they represent seems almost real."

"Well, anyway," Diana continued, "I dug out the gremlin costume from our things that are stored in the basement. I laid it out on our bed. If you like the costume, you can wear it as we go trick or treating. We will buy any costume you like, obviously, but you might want to at least look at this one."

Selina turned to Arlene who stood listening with a big grin on her face. "Would you allow me to wear your costume?"

"Oh, yeah," Arlene laughed. "I would be tickled for you to wear it. I scared the crap out of the neighborhood kids with that thing. It makes gremlin costumes that you buy look like junk. It's so real it will scare you to look in the mirror."

Selina hesitated for an instant, then, "I assume that I will be the only family member who will don a costume. Everyone is much too..."

"The three of us are wearing costumes," Nat said. "No way are we too old to wear one."

"And us," Arlene said, speaking for Jeff's younger wives.

"And us," Linda said, indicating herself and Kim. (Dave's younger wives.)

Selina looked around her, then back at Diana. "Once I was old enough to realize what was going on, I refused to wear a costume for Halloween. And I certainly did not go from house to house asking for candy. It is much simpler to just purchase it, and far less humiliating." That produced raised eyebrows from the adults. Selina went on, "But now, somehow, I think I want to wear the costume. This could very well be a splendid research project to determine the reason..."

"Selina," Diana admonished. "don't you dare even think about research. This is a chance for children to have fun, and maybe even some young adults," she said, smiling at her daughter. "And us old folks might get a snigger or two out of it also. Carla tells me there will be a haunted house that isn't too far from their church. We'll have to check that out as well."

Shortly, the Matthews' bedroom was full of women, young wives and girls. "This is more than I anticipated," Selina said as she stood looking at the costume spread out on the bed. "It is three-dimensional. It almost seems real just laying there. But how will I ever see with the gremlin head on?"

Diana laughed as she picked up the head. "You actually see through the black nose holes, and we use some of Jeff's camouflage face paint around your eyes to help you blend into the costume."

"Trust me," Arlene laughed, "no one will notice your eyes."

"But how..." Selina started.

"Let's try it on. First, we start with the leotards. Then we attach the alligator-like hide to your legs." That alone took several minutes to accomplish, but the lower half of Selina was transformed into something very not-human looking. Then the top, Diana said. "Now for the outer skin."

Selina stood looking down at herself. "Now for the feet," the Queen said as she and Arlene both knelt to attach them to the top of Selina's feet.

"You have to practice walking and not step on the feet," Arlene said. "It's kinda embarrassing when you step on a foot and fall on your face. Been there; done that," she laughed.

Selina looked down at her now-big feet with the murderous-looking claws.

"You have to pick your feet up higher than normal, then carefully put them down so they hit flat, otherwise, you'll drag a claw and take a spill," Arlene instructed.

Selina practiced walking around, her expression unreadable. It was obvious that she had thought the costume beneath her to wear, but it was equally obvious that the child in her thought the costume was great.

"Okay, now comes the biggie," Diana said, picking up the head. After carefully setting it on Selina's shoulders and securing the near-invisible tabs to the body of the costume, she stepped back to look.

"Those ears are so big and stick out so far, you have to be really careful getting in and out of a vehicle, or walking through doors," Arlene added.

Selina's hands reached up to grasp the head, but that didn't work very well because her "hands" were now much larger and bore long claws. "It feels ... awkward," Selina said, her voice muffled in the gremlin head.

"Wait a second," Diana ordered. "Let's take the head back off. I forgot to put in the padding so the head won't move around, and your face will stay close enough to the front of the head so you can see properly."

Soon, the head was back on with padding behind and above Selina's head. "Now, it looks more realistic," Diana said, satisfaction in her voice. "Want to see how you look?"

"Yes, My Queen. But I shall need assistance until I learn how to move around in this."

Arlene took Selina's (the gremlin's) clawed hand and helped her over to the big mirror. "Oh," the six-year-old said as she stood looking at Spike. The costume was so realistic-looking that she couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, "I fully understand why the judges didn't recognize you, Arlene."

Selina moved her arms, walked back and forth while trying to look at herself in the mirror. "I assume that the character is copyrighted, otherwise you could certainly have a market for the costume, My Queen," Selina's muffled voice said.

"It took me the better part of a week, to design, pick up the materials, and sew everything," Diana laughed. "No way would I ever spend that much time on something to sell."

"But after I wore it twice, you made that bat costume for the next year," Arlene reminded.

"Yeah," Diana laughed. "I spent an equal amount of time on it, but I was pissed at the judges telling me that you couldn't compete again with the gremlin costume, so I made the bat."

"And we won again," Arlene said, laughing. "I still remember the look on that judge's face when I took the head off while we were standing on that stage. Everybody started laughing when they realized it was me. Well, everyone but the judges. After the startled expression, that one guy just looked pissed, but they had already unanimously chosen me to be the winner, so they couldn't change anything."

"Yeah," Diana snickered. "The principal/head judge called me at home. He gave me this tear-jerking story about you taking all the glory from the other kids. He whined so much that I promised you wouldn't be in the contest next year. I'm still aggravated that I agreed, though. I had a really good idea for another costume."

Arlene hugged her mother. "When I left grade school, my picture was still up there with all the others. Well, actually, it was up there three times. I wonder if those pictures are still there."

Selina/Spike turned to Diana. "I will be honored to display your costume, My Queen. I thank both of you for the opportunity."



-------

Chapter 113

ATLANTA, GEORGIA — LATE WEDNESDAY NIGHT

Art Hanes woke. His mouth was dry and he felt extremely lethargic. Struggling, he finally managed to open his eyes. The world swam into focus, but then it kept on swimming. His stomach rebelled.

"I'm gonna..." he croaked as his stomach heaved.

"Easy. I've got you," Sandra said as she put an arm around his head and back, gently raising him forward as she held a small plastic pan under his mouth. There wasn't anything in his stomach, though.

Bobby diluted a dose of Phenergan with 10 cc's of normal saline in a syringe and connected the syringe to the tubing on the IV pump, setting the rate of the secondary for two minutes. "The doctor anticipated the possibility of your nausea and prescribed the Phenergan PRN. The nausea should pass in a moment."

Art didn't know what PRN meant, but he wanted the nausea to stop. When his dry heaves went away, Sandra gave him some mouthwash. After he spit it in the pan, she took the pan to the bathroom where she cleaned it. Coming back with two washcloths, she dipped them in another pan of ice water she had already prepared just in case. Folding one of the cold washcloths, she put it on the agent's throat. Preparing the other washcloth, she gently wiped the sweat off his face. "Do you remember being nauseated when they brought you back from surgery?" she asked.

Art thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think so. I remember telling the nurse how nauseated I was as we came down the hall. I thought I was going to puke before I got to the room. I guess I don't remember much after that."

"Most people will feel nausea after anaesthesia," Sandra offered. "But you went back to sleep and were slow to awaken. You've been out of recovery for about three hours. And before you ask, slow awakening isn't that unusual, particularly with back-to-back operations. You're doing fine."

Hanes realized that his nausea was mostly gone. He could blurrily see the clock on the opposite wall, put there to help orient patients. He squinted, wondering. "It's ten o'clock, right?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, smiling. "A minute after."

"Ten o'clock at night — right?"

"Yep. You nailed it."

"But you work days. Why are you still here?"

Bobby smiled down at him, gently wiping his face again with the damp cloth.

"She wanted to stay until you were awake," Sandra said. But what she thought was: My sister wanted to stay until she knew you were okay.

"I hurt," Hanes whispered. "From the feel of it, they wound up doing both of them, huh?"

Sandra looked at her sister, then answered, "Yeah. Do you remember the surgeon telling you that if you did well with the hip, he would go ahead and do your shoulder?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"All done in one long afternoon. But the surgeon said — with time — you'll walk without a limp, and the shoulder will be as good as new."

Bobby gently squeezed his good arm. "He stressed 'with time and a lot of therapy.'"

"Do you remember the surgeon coming in to talk to you right after you got back from surgery?"

Art started to shake his head, but his left shoulder didn't like that one bit. Instead, "No. I remember him talking to me before the surgery, but only vaguely the other time."

"No matter," Sandra continued. "He'll be back in the morning to check on you, and he'll talk to you then. And again, it's the amnesiac effects of the medication they used to keep you under while they operated. It's normal. In a week, you probably won't remember much about this day at all."

She doubted if Art heard her, though, because he had drifted asleep again, but this time it was normal sleep, and not due totally to the effects of the anesthesia.

"Go home, Sis," Sandra told her sister. "You're not going to get much sleep as it is. You know I'll take care of him."

"Yeah, I know. But I brought an overnight bag, and one for you, plus a clean uniform in case you decide to use the room tomorrow. I've already paid for a room in the motel. I'll probably call you to check on him later tonight, if I wake up." There was a hesitation as the pretty nurse frowned. "He's doing fine and the doctor will probably move him to a regular room tomorrow." Then quietly, "I'm so glad he's doing okay, but I hate to see him go..."

(Note: Most large hospitals have a "motel" in the hospital where a patient's family members can rent a room in order to stay close to a critical patient.)

Unshed tears sparkled the eyes of both young women as they hugged each other. "We'll have a talk with the floor nurses. Those bitches better take good care of him," Sandra said with a lump in her throat.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed, "and I'll be right there with you for that talk."

The agent guarding Hanes heard what the two nurses said. Walking out of the unit, he took out his cell and dialed.

"Grigsby."

"Sir, this is Stevens. There's something I think you should know."

-------

"Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww..."

Selina managed to awaken enough to fumble the lights on with the remote. She groggily pushed herself to a sitting position. Leaning over the side of the bed, she looked down at her kitten. She had moved the kennel closer when Billy had first started crying at bedtime.

"What is wrong with you?" she grouchily mumbled. "You have milk and food."

The kitten launched himself at the bars on the side of the cage. Using the cross pieces, he climbed the short distance to the top, then hung suspended upside down, mewling almost continuously.

"I cannot sleep, Billy. This is not acceptable behavior."

The kitten dropped to the floor of the cage and looked up at her, then wailed with the most pitiful sound she had ever heard. "Oh, all right," the six-year-old muttered, sliding off the bed and opening the cage.

The kitten pranced out, sat, licked his paw and looked up at her.

Staring down at him, "I am very fatigued. I must have rest. Your behavior is not conducive to that."

Billy looked up at her, then galloped to the foot of the bed. Jumping up the short distance, he sank his claws into the comforter and clambered up the bed. Looking back at Selina, he sat to lick his paws.

"Okay Billy," Selina said, barely managing to keep herself awake long enough to get back into bed, turn the lights down and pull the sheet up. "You had better not pee on my bed. Diana will be displeased, and you will be also when you get your spanking."

"Mmeeow," the kitten quietly returned as he crawled under the sheet and curled up on Selina's chest. The vibration of his purr only deepened the child's sleep.

4:00 A.M. THURSDAY MORNING

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Jeff said as he turned onto the county road at the foot of his driveway.

Lieutenant Mayfield, dressed similarly to Jeff, matched his superior's stride as the two runners started down the road. Jeff estimated their pace to be something near an eight minute mile as he held back for the Lieutenant.

"I have screws in my shoes now," Mayfield chuckled, "and I'm in decent shape. I can hold this pace, or a little better, for five miles. After that, you're on your own. I realize you can run much faster, so if you..."

Jeff chuckled and said, "Nice to have someone to run with. Watch out for the lower side of the road in the first curve, though. That inch or so of snow we got last night will cover the big icy spot that tends to stay there. I almost busted my ass the other morning, screws in my shoes or not.

"How are our weapon installations coming along?" the Prime asked. Jeff's body had already shifted into FFA, but the Lieutenant's had not yet reached that point.

(Note: Remember that FFA, Free Fatty Acid metabolism, is a state a runner reaches where his/her breathing is easier, and thinking becomes clearer.)

Mayfield took a couple of deep breaths in order to speak. "So far, so good. If everything goes well, they should finish up today. Tracking with your new radar looks good. As you well know, since you're the inventor, incoming planes have no way to realize they have been detected, let alone locked onto by our weapons." A couple more deep breaths, and he continued with, "Somebody comes in here hot, they're going to be toast before they even realize they're in trouble."

Jeff didn't say anything for a moment, not wanting to appear to gloat about being able to talk as they ran, when the Lieutenant's body had not yet shifted. A little later, Jeff could see that Mayfield was no longer struggling and his breathing was coming easier.

"The first three miles are always the hardest," Mayfield said, fully realizing that Jeff was being easy on him.

"Yeah, but that last mile was a bitch the morning I met the grizzly," Jeff returned, chuckling.

"I heard about that. How in the hell did you kill a grizzly with one shot from a .45?"

Jeff looked over at Mayfield and laughed. "It's called luck. Just pure fucking dumb luck. Either that, or the Good Lord wasn't ready for me just then. Take your pick."

A little later, Mayfield told his Colonel to have a good run, then moved to the side and caught a ride with the next security vehicle.

"Looking good, Lieutenant," Carter said when they were rolling again.

"I'm just about fucking dead," Mayfield gasped out, leaning forward in his seat as he attempted to relieve the pain in his side.

Carter chuckled and handed the Lieutenant a bottle of water. "Hell, I would be. Those last three miles were at a six minute pace. That would kill my ass."

"Six minute?"

"Yeah, the first two miles were at an eight minute pace, then the next three were at a six minute one."

"Fuck," Mayfield, mumbled. "The Colonel suckered me. He must have gradually sped up without my realizing it. I can run one mile in six minutes, but I've never run three consecutive ones at that pace. Of course, it was going downhill, but still..."

"He's back to his usual four minute mile," Carter offered. "Hmmm, maybe a little better than that."

"Fuck," Mayfield said. "Fuck."

-------

Jeff sat at the head of the table, his breakfast almost finished. He raised the cup of coffee — his third one — to his mouth, but just sat there looking around. Several conversations were going on at the same time. Dave laughed out as he and Evie joked about something, then she poked him in the ribs with a finger. Diana and Arlene were in a deep discussion, as were Laura and Helen. There was a titter of laughter from Nat, Nicki, and Whitney. Kayla caught Jeff's eye and smiled at him.

Jeff took a sip of the coffee, then with his elbows on the table, he held the cup with both hands, just looking over it at his family. It's odd to think that a few short months ago there were only Diana, Arlene and I sitting in here for breakfast. I was seriously thinking about divorcing my wife because of what she did with that bastard, Jack. My daughter — now my wife — gave herself to me to get my mind back on track. We've had so many things happen to us in such a short period of time. Helen had a heart attack. I almost bought the farm from a damn bear. Arlene nearly died from that asshole's bullet. I screwed up by letting those bastards get into our home, but we've all lived through it, despite my fuckup. I have nine wives and more "standing in the wings" as Diana puts it.

Now we have Hope with us, and a few minutes ago she walked up beside me as we both got scrambled eggs from the steam table. I could almost feel how tense she was, but she approached me; I was already there. She's trying, and with all the poor kid has been through, it's a wonder she's sane.

Having thought that, he unconsciously glanced toward Hope, only to realize that she was looking at him. When she saw him looking back at her, she dipped her head and concentrated on her plate, but he noticed a slight flush on her face. He wasn't sure what that meant, though. Did I embarrass her, or was eye contact with a man the reason for the blush? I would love to know what's on her mind. His eyes shifted to Diana, who grinned and winked as if she knew what he was thinking. What's going on with her? She has that look on her face.

Diana's eyes shifted to Kayla, then Susan. His Queen tapped her wedding band, her eyes sparkling. Oh, I know what she's going to do,  Jeff thought. Kayla and Susan got up to come stand on either side of their Prime. Each leaned down and tenderly kissed him.

Diana stood at the other end of the table, gently hitting her glass with a spoon. "I have an announcement everyone." Conversations instantly stopped. "Saturday night, Susan and Kayla will join with us in marriage, provided that Fred and his family make it back in time. If not, then we'll have the wedding as soon as they do. I spoke with Carla last night and she told me they were headed home, and asked if we could wait on the weddings until they could get here."

Everyone seemed happy, laughing and kidding, but Nat, Nicki and Whitney, although they joined in the congratulations, were blushing deeply.

A little later, Jeff and the Alphas had adjourned to the living room, and the women had cleaned up the kitchen. Joyce had headed for bed. Caitlin and Alesha had left for work. As the other women were leaving the kitchen, Diana touched Nat on the arm. "Would you three stay for a few minutes?" she asked.

The Queen sat at the table, but on the side rather than her usual place at the end. The three girls sat near her. "You don't have to explain to us..." Nicki started

"We discussed this yesterday, girls. Like I said before, I'm aware that in a way, you have been around Jeff about as long as Kayla. However, Kayla had seen him at the base long before you three came on the scene, but as she told us, she wasn't part of his team, and only saw him in passing. However, she fell in love with him as she studied his tactics and watched his videos. And ... she was with him when he and his team came to deal with Doctor Ingles, and wound up rescuing you three. But remember, Susan is my mother and has known Jeff since I was thirteen. Plus ... he wants to give you three more time so you don't rush into this..."

"We don't need any more time," Nat said, indignantly.

"And you know that we love him," Nicki added.

"And he's our Prime. No way are we going to change our minds," Whitney finished.

Diana knew they were right. She doubted that Jeff had consciously used his pheromones, but the girls had been in close contact with him, repeatedly; had kissed him numerous times, and he had licked all three of them unconscious time and again. They were irrevocably hooked — well pleased with being hooked — but hooked, nonetheless. However, Jeff wanted to wait, and waiting was going to hurt their feelings; was, already hurting their feelings.

The girls had tears in their eyes. "It's not fair," Nicki managed to get out. "Why does he want to wait? We're not as pretty as all of you are ... but we love him, and he said he loved us, too," she finished as her eyes overflowed and tears ran down her cheeks.

Now all three girls were openly crying.

"What do you mean you're not pretty? That's ridiculous. Remember, you were kidnapped to sell because of your beauty. You three are just as pretty as any of us here. Plus you have youth on your side. Think about Helen, Laura and me. Laura and I are almost twice your ages, and Helen is more than that. Only because of Little One do we look so young. It's hard..."

Nat broke in with, "No one is as pretty as you, Diana. No one. Our youth is working against us; not for us. But we're practically the same age as Jeff's younger wives. This hurts," she finished.

Diana sighed, then hugged each girl in turn. "I'll go talk to Jeff. You guys find something to do. I'll call you after we discuss this, but remember, he's my Prime, too. And ... I've already told him you don't want to wait, but he is bothered that you are going from a rescue to marrying the one who rescued you. I guess he's worried about hero worship or something similar. He wants to make sure you know what you're doing."

"We know," Nicki said. "He's told us the same thing, but our love isn't hero worship. We love him and want to be his wives before he gets so many we won't have a bed big enough to hold us all."

"No danger of that," Diana said, chuckling. "We can always tear out another wall and add a few sections to the bed. But it's plenty big enough right now. I'll go talk to Jeff. And be assured that he loves you; he's been emphatic about that. He just doesn't want to take the chance of your not being happy."

Nat started to say something, but Diana shushed her. "Let me talk to my mate. In the meantime, go do whatever you do before school. You still have thirty minutes before you have to be in class."

The girls headed for the kitchen door with the intention of finding Jeff's younger wives.

Diana sat in the kitchen, thinking. My husband has nine wives, and will soon have two more. Have I screwed up and pushed too many wives on him? He acts like he loves all of us, and he loves us unconscious almost every night. Still..."

-------

"It's about time," Arlene said as the girls finally stepped out of the kitchen into the hall where the young wives waited. "Come on, I want to play with Billy a few minutes before we have to be in class."

They found Selina sitting on her bed while she dangled the business end of a cat toy over the side. It resembled a very small fishing pole with a string approximately three feet long. Attached to the end of the string were several feathers that tended to flutter as Selina moved the rod back and forth. She giggled at Billy's antics while trying to catch the "injured bird." He would lay crouched on his belly with just the end of his tail twitching, emitting little, "ehh ehh ehh," noises before pouncing on the bird, whereupon Selina would twist it away from him and he'd lunge after it. She would then reverse the bird's direction and the kitten would turn a flip trying to keep up. Then the stalking started over again. Once he caught the feathers in his teeth and tried to drag the bird away from Selina, softly growling the all the while. Giggling, Selina snatched the bird away and Billy tore out after it yet again.

The six-year-old slid down from the bed and walked over to a closet. Putting the bird on the highest shelf she could reach, she closed the door and turned to her cat who sat watching. "If I leave it out, you will destroy it."

Billy looked at her for a second, then ran over and tried to stick his paw under the door. Selina smiled at the cat, then turned to the girls. "I awakened early and ordered some things for Billy. Although, he seems to be thriving on the half and half and the kitten food, I have read where it is better to give him a milk product that is specifically designed for kittens. Some cats seem to be lactose intolerant, which causes diarrhea, so I'm only giving him a small amount of the half and half. He could subsist on the kitten food, but he cries for the milk. I am going to warm up a little of the half and half for him. I shall return shortly."

When Selina left, Arlene looked around at the other girls and young wives. A grin on her face, she picked up the empty milk dish, pulled her top above her left breast and began milking her nipple. Warm woman milk sprayed into the dish as the girls laughed and giggled.

Billy sniffed and turned his attention from the closet door, the smell of the milk was suddenly far more attractive than the fake bird. "Mmmeeeooww," he said, bounding over to stare up at Arlene. But he only hesitated for a moment.

"Oh, shit," she said as the kitten rapidly climbed the leg of her pants.

Laughing, Melissa snatched him off Arlene before he got to the bare skin of her stomach. "Whoa Tiger," she said. "You might get something you haven't bargained for if you try to climb her bare belly."

But Billy didn't like being prevented from reaching his goal. "Ppfffsssttt. Rrrowww," he spit and growled, trying to break free.

"Little Dude," Melissa said, "sooner or later you're going to get your chimes rung climbing people."

Arlene put the bowl on the floor and Melissa sat Billy down. Having learned to be careful with his nose, he sat and began lapping the milk, his tiny tongue flicking in and out at a rapid pace.

"Where did he..." Selina started as she walked back into the room with a small glass in her hand. The blush on Arlene's face and the milk in the dish were enough evidence for Selina to put things together. "Ann told me you were a Queen, too. I can see that she was correct. But why did you wait until I had left the room? I certainly would not have objected to your giving Billy your milk."

"Well, uh..." Arlene started. How do I tell her I didn't feel right about pulling out a boob and milking it in front of a six-year-old?

Selina set the glass on a table. "I assume you were hesitant about revealing your breast to a mere child, or perhaps you didn't want to manipulate yourself in front of me. But that has no sexual connotations, and indeed, you are providing a needed service for my kitten. And in any case, we all dressed in our swimwear together last night, without any obvious distress about being nude in the same room. We are, after all, the same sex. I am somewhat disappointed in the way you are treating me, though."

"Oh, crap," Arlene said as she squatted in front of Selina. "I apologize. Momma fed the kitten her milk, and Frank and Margaret got such a kick out of it, I just wanted to see what Billy would do. And ... I confess. I didn't want to milk my breast in front of you." Arlene sighed, "Look, mentally you're way beyond your age, but physically, well, you're a young girl. I didn't mean to disrespect you. I just didn't think it would be appropriate to pull my breast out and milk myself with you watching. Again, I apologize."

Selina put her hand on Arlene's shoulder. "Perhaps I overreacted. I very strongly want to be treated as an adult. Generally, I have been treated that way since I have been here, but there are some things yet to be overcome. Apology accepted, but I wish to watch the next time you do it. I have seen videos of women lactating, but I have never had the opportunity to observe it firsthand. It would add to my knowledge base."

Arlene and Selina looked at each other for a moment, then, "Okaaay, if Mom approves it," Arlene finished, passing the buck.

Selina thought about stamping her foot, but at the last second realized that it would only further the case against her. With a very adult-sounding sigh, "I will speak with the Queen."

-------

Jeff lay on one of the recliners in front of the big window, his hands behind his head, thinking about his next invention.

Bill walked into the living room followed by Jill and Kathy. "Jeff, mind if I borrow one of your vehicles? We have an errand in Denver."

"Yes, I do," Jeff said as he sat up and stared at Madison.

"What ... Uh..."

"Now, see how silly that sounded? How many times do I have to tell you that you're family? Pick a vehicle and go."

"I told him," Kathy said, laughing.

"What's up?" Jeff asked, chuckling. "Didn't you get enough shopping yesterday?"

"I finally got off my duff and found that truck driver that Jill borrowed the money from when she escaped from Ingles."

"Stole," Jill corrected.

"You had every intention of getting it back to him, and you were desperate. You told me you repeated his name and the name of his company over and over until you could write the information down. Took, stolen, or borrowed, we're going to get it back to him. His dispatcher told me that he was due in this afternoon."

"I would have been out of gas without that money. I've just been afraid to face him. Now, he's going to be back in town, and I need to get it done," Jill said.

Jeff turned more to look at them. "I don't mean to butt in, but if he's as big as Jill described, it might be better to just leave a note, or whatever you're going to do, and be gone before he gets to the terminal."

"Yeah, that's what I've been telling Jill. He's bound to be pissed, and justifiably so. Anyway, we'll make that decision when we get to the terminal."

"Want me to go with you?"

Bill chuckled. "I can just see us pulling into the terminal with half a dozen of your security people, not to mention the 'parade' as you call it."

"All right," Jeff said, snickering. "I get your point. But be careful. He's had a while to think about being fleeced out of his money. He might still be a wee bit pissed."

Bill laughed. "Yeah, and probably a hell of a lot more than that."

-------

Later, Bill parked the Escalade near the terminal office. "This place is big," Kathy said, looking at the terminal building that seemed to be a half mile long. There were trailer bays with roll-up doors, plus a long loading dock where many trailers sat side by side. An enormous gravel lot, seemingly covered with trailers, surrounded the whole thing.

They waited for two eighteen wheelers to move slowly past, then an odd looking truck with a cab only just big enough for one person.

"What's that?" Kathy asked as the tractor backed under a trailer.

"It's called a yard mule, yard tractor, yard truck, or yard goat, among other things," Bill said. "It spends its lifetime right here moving trailers around the yard."

They stood watching as the driver backed the trailer now hooked to the odd looking truck toward a line of other trailers at the loading dock. "He's going to..." Jill started, then stopped as the driver backed into a slot that was barely six inches wider than the trailer.

"He's good," Kathy said. "How in the world can he do that?"

Bill held the door to the building open for the women. "I had a friend who worked his way through college driving a yard mule. He had arms on him that you wouldn't believe from cranking the 'landing gear' up and down on those trailers all day every day. Now, a lot of the trailers have hydraulic gear to make it easier to raise and lower the front of the trailer, but back then, it was mostly manual. It's a hard job, not to say anything about learning to back trailers into those slots, maybe a hundred times a day."

-------

Later, they left the lot in their SUV. Jill, sitting beside her husband, asked, "You're not pissed at me for putting that in the package are you?"

Bill, seemingly lost in thought, checked the street for traffic before pulling back out of the yard, then addressed his wife. "No. I was just thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't managed to get that forty dollars. You would have been out of gas ... and yeah to be truthful, I guess I was thinking about what happened in that sleeper, too."

"I couldn't do it, Bill. I was going to, but I was finally mostly out from under the hypnosis and drugs. I just ... couldn't do it. I don't think he would have hit me if he had caught me, but I was scared to death, anyway. Remember, I still had enough of those drugs in me so my thinking wasn't up to par. Oh, I don't know. I was just scared to death and so desperate you wouldn't believe."

"Easy girl. We've gone over this before. I'm proud of you, remember. And about leaving the package, it's done, and I think Jeff was right about just leaving it rather than a face-to-face. But no, I'm not pissed about what you left for him. I think, everything considered, what you did was appropriate."

"He's going to crap himself when he opens that envelope," Kathy said, laughing.

Bill chuckled. "Yeah, I think you're right. Okay, ladies, you two want to eat before we head back?"

"Yes," both women said.

-------

"Rick, the dispatcher wants to see you," one of the drivers said as Rick McCoy stepped down from his truck. He arched his back, stretching, his big belly sticking out even farther as he did so.

"Yeah, Mason told me when I called in. Thanks."

Inside, Rick put his paperwork on the counter. "You got something for me, Mason?"

"Yeah, it wouldn't go through the slot in your box, so they left it with me," the dispatcher replied, tossing a large manila envelope onto the counter. "Looks like they meant for it to stay closed," the dispatcher said as he pointed to all the clear tape used to make sure the seal didn't come loose.

"Who is this 'they?'"

"Guy, and two women. The prettiest women I've ever put these two eyes on. And one of them looked ... Hell, I don't know. But she would make you throw rocks at the prettiest movie star you have ever seen. They must have been seen walking in, because I suddenly had so many drivers in here that it was damn near embarrassing."

Rick stared at the dispatcher for a moment, a memory tickling the corner of his mind. Taking his knife from the holder on his belt, he popped the blade open. After swiping it through the tape, he put the knife up, glanced in the package, and decided it would be better if he were in private. Turning, he started to leave. "Unh uh," Mason said. "You aren't going anywhere until I know what they left you."

Rick started to tell him to stick it up his ass, but relented at the last second. Looking inside the envelope, he saw several stacks of bundled hundred dollar bills, a letter and a picture. He pulled the 8 by 10 picture out and stood looking at it with his mouth open, his mind suddenly in neutral.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Mason said. "Let me see."

"Great Caesar's ghost," Mason exclaimed as Rick turned the picture toward the dispatcher. "This the gal you said stole your money?" Then, "Hey, that's her. That's one of the gals who brought the package in. Let me see that picture for a minute so I can scan a copy."

"No fucking way," Rick said.

"Ah shit, Man. Come on. You need to share that."

Rick shook his head as he again stared at the picture of Jill posed in a tiny bikini.

"What else is in the envelope?" the dispatcher asked.

"Looks like a letter, and I guess she returned the money," he said, keeping his face neutral as he carefully slid the picture back into the envelope, turning to leave. "I've got some down time coming. I'll call you," Rick said, absently walking out the door.

"Hey, man come on. Let me make..." But the door closed cutting off the dispatcher's plea.

In his pickup, Rick started the engine and let the truck warm. Taking the picture out, he sat staring at it, his cock already hard as a rock. Laying the picture on the seat, he pulled the letter out and put it on the dash, then dumped the money out and started counting. Four grand. She stole forty bucks from me and returned four thousand fucking dollars. Hell, I would have considered the debt paid in full with just the picture. Who in the fuck is this woman, and where in the fuck is she? Mason said there was a man with her. Must have been her husband — lucky bastard.

After staring at the picture again, his cock was now so hard it was aching. Finally, he settled back to read the letter.

Mr. McCoy:

When I met you, I was fleeing from a man who had kidnapped, drugged and raped me. Before this evil person came into my life, I had never had sex with anyone other than my husband. I could not go through with our bargain. I am sorry. With the money I took from you, I was able to buy gas and get to a safe location. A preacher and his wife helped me get the rest of the way home.

The person who kidnapped me was a very influential individual. I was afraid to go to the police for fear I would wind up back with him. Because of you, then the preacher and his wife, I was able to get back to my husband. It is just as well that we did not have sex, for I had a venereal disease and would have infected you. I hope you will forgive me for snatching your money and running. Maybe the picture will in some small way make up for my cheating you.

There was no signature.

Rick carefully returned the picture to its packing, then took out some of the money and put it in his billfold. I'm going to buy the best scanner that computer place has, and I'm going to scan this picture as soon as I get home. Hmmm. I'll make a screen saver out of it so I can see her every time I sit down at the computer. No way am I ever going to lose the picture of the prettiest woman in the whole fucking world. No way. Shit, I might even sign up at that new health club — lose a few pounds. Maybe one day, find me another woman I don't have to pay for. Yeah, I'm gonna do that.

After putting everything back into the package, he dropped the pickup in gear and headed out, a smile on his face, and a goal in his life for the first time in several years.



-------

Chapter 114

Phillip and Dessie Albright (Selina's parents) returning from skiing, were invited into Helen's school while class was in session. "We would like to talk with you in private, if we may," Phillip said.

Later, when their conference was over, Helen smiled at them, "Our new classrooms were completed yesterday, but we're going to wait until the weekend to begin moving everything. Would you like to see them, now that they are completed?"

Phillip and Dessie exchanged glances, then he responded. "No, thank you. The helicopter is waiting and we need to get to the airport. We're on our way to France day after tomorrow and we have a few things to do before leaving."

Selina hugged her parents, and she, Arlene and Ann went with the Albrights to the helipad. A strangely subdued couple kissed their daughter goodbye as they boarded, then waved again from the helicopter as Reed circled the Retreat before heading over the mountain.

As the girls came back into the Retreat, there were tears in Selina's eyes that she tried to hide. Diana met them in the hallway just inside the door to the garage, and encircled Selina in her arms. "You can call and talk to them anytime you wish, for as long as you wish. If you want to see them, tell them so. You might be surprised at their reaction."

"Thank you, My Queen. I am somewhat startled to realize that I will miss them," she said, her voice breaking, much to her disgust.

Diana hugged her tightly. "Baby, I think they love you very much, and they have probably realized that you're very, very smart. They didn't fully understand about your true intellect, but I think they were receiving mixed signals from you. I suspect your intelligence slipped through on occasion, whether you realized it or not. Then you would change and act like a little girl again. They didn't know what to do with you. Now, suddenly, you're entirely different and no longer hiding your true self from them. I know you've been talking to them a lot on the phone recently. Those conversations with you being yourself were probably a shock to them."

"Yes, My Queen. I decided to no longer use the child persona with them. They were rather surprised when I talked with them on the phone."

Diana smiled at the six-year-old. Yes, I imagine they were,  the Queen thought as she kissed Selina's cheek and stood.

They were almost back to the classroom when, "Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww. Mmmeeeooww..."

A tiny ball of fur came bounding around the corner of the hallway and started toward them. "How did you get out of our suite, Billy?" Selina asked as she knelt.

When the cat reached the kneeling child, he jumped into her arms. As Selina stood with the kitten, she addressed Diana, "Do you think Doctor Boswell would mind if Billy visited for a few minutes?"

"I think a short visit would be okay with her, but you must ask her permission. And remember, there isn't a litter box in there."

"Thank you, My Queen. I shall ask her permission." Smiling, Selina opened the door and went into the classroom with her pet.

FBI OFFICE, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Grigsby had been called to Whatley's office. (Whatley — Atlanta SAC. Grigsby — the second in command.) Grigsby set a cup of black coffee on Whatley's desk, then took a seat as he sipped from his own cup.

"Thanks," Whatley said, picking up the coffee and taking a swallow. "Crap, it's hot," he blurted, blowing on the beverage.

Grigsby relaxed and crossed his legs. "So, is my idea going to fly?"

"I think I burned my tongue," Whatley complained, touching the end of his tongue with a fingertip.

"Yeah, the coffee is freshly made. I had to wait for it to finish."

The SAC got down to business. "I have just gotten off the phone with the hospital administrator. I asked about using one of the VIP suites when Hanes leaves SICU. He thinks that would actually make things easier on hospital personnel. We both know that security would be a nightmare with Hanes in one of the regular rooms. The suite, on the other hand, has a patient room, a bedroom and a fair-sized sitting room. The way the suite is situated at the end of a hall will also make it a lot more practical security-wise. In the ICU, there were nurses, doctors and patients' families going in and out of the unit. Not only did we have to post two agents at the main door of the unit, we had to have an agent in the room with Hanes, as well. With the VIP suite, only the nurses, doctors and other personnel directly associated with Hanes will need access to the suite. A whole hell of a lot less people to worry about. Not only will we possibly save a little on personnel time, but the administrator is going to give us a discount for the suite. Truth be told, I think he is very pleased to get us out of that intensive care unit."

"What did he say about the nurses?"

"Those two will get the same pay either way, and the ICU patient census is down at the moment, so losing a couple of nurses for a while won't hurt the unit. Hanes still needs IV antibiotics, pain meds, etc., but all of that can be handled anywhere in the hospital now that he isn't critical anymore. The doctor was going to move him to a med-surg floor today, anyway. Also, the beginning of his physical therapy can be done in the suite. The administrator hinted at a pretty big favor. I had to pull some strings, but I got it done for him. Now, he owes me and he knows it."

They were quiet for a moment as both men thought, then, "You have had far more contact with the nurses than I have, so if you think they are the two we need, I'll leave it to you to get the ball rolling. If they agree, let me know and I'll inform the administrator." Whatley sighed. "As you're aware, Hanes has to be one hundred percent in six months, or he'll be forcibly retired on disability. He's facing a lot of physical therapy before he's back up to speed. He almost died to save that girl, and we are not going to let him down on his rehabilitation. The Bureau has had several widely publicized fuckups lately, but what Hanes did in that room to save her will provide some badly-needed, good PR for us. That said, this is still going to cost a shitload of money in personnel time to protect him, and the hospital administrator reminded me that Hanes will need to go to an extended care facility when he leaves the hospital. It scares me to even think about security at one of those places. The hospital used an alias for Hanes on their records, as is their standard procedure for their patients involved in violent crimes. But all it would take for someone to find him would be to walk through the hospital. Once they saw the two agents sitting outside SICU with that metal detector..."

"Well, according to Stevens, both nurses had tears in their eyes about losing Hanes as a patient. Those young ladies are sharp, and I like them. If they agree to do this, we'll have to back up and punt. It's obvious that Hanes is going to need some help after he leaves the hospital. With a hip and a shoulder damaged, not to even mention the kidney operation, he's not going to be able to function on his own for quite a while. We'll see. I'll get on this as soon as I leave here."

Chuckling, Whatley dismissed Grigsby with his ritual goodbye: "Then get the hell out of my office and let me get to work."

"You must be talking to yourself, 'cause I'm gone," Grigsby said, as he tossed his empty Styrofoam cup in the trash and walked out the door.

-------

Grigsby spent an hour with the first detailed debriefing of the injured baby agent. By that time, Art Hanes' eyes were drooping. Bobby put a gentle hand on Grigsby's shoulder. "I know what you're doing is important, but Mr. Hanes needs his rest. Could you please continue later today?"

"Yeah. Sorry," Grigsby said. After telling Hanes that he (Grigsby) would check on him later in the day, the ASAC motioned for Bobby to follow him. Outside the room, he turned to her. "I need to talk with you and your sister, and we need a few minutes in private where we won't be interrupted by your having to take care of patients."

"You look serious," Bobby said, worrying it was a complaint.

"Look, we really need an answer right away. I've spoken with your charge nurse, and she says you can take your lunch break anytime you wish, and if we need more time, she'll take care of your patients until you get back. And stop worrying, I just need to talk with both you and Sandra at the same time. When do you think your sister can be here?"

What is he talking about? He has complimented us to our charge nurses and our unit manager. What does he want? Aloud she said, "I rented a room here last night, and Sandra is sleeping there now. Let me call and wake her. If it's okay with you, we can stop by the cafeteria and pick up some food, then go to the room to talk."

Grigsby hesitated.

"Come on Mr. FBI man. Are you afraid to be alone with two women?"

"I would rather..."

Bobby interrupted. "I need to eat, and Sandra is asleep one floor up and a few hundred feet down the hall. We work opposite shifts, as you know, and we've both lost sleep lately. That's the best I can offer. If you have a complaint..."

"No, no," Grigsby hastened to answer.

"Then I promise not to rape you," Bobby said, her eyes sparkling with amusement, "but you're on your own with Sandra. She's not going to be in the best mood in the world when I wake her," Bobby finished, laughing. Then turning serious, "What's this about?"

"Your patient."

"Okay, let me check with my charge nurse, then I'll wake Sandra."

-------

When Grigsby and Bobby left the cafeteria, Bobby was holding two Styrofoam containers, while Grigsby held a third, plus a tray with three drinks.

"You didn't have to pay for our lunches," Bobby said as they stepped into the elevator.

Grigsby chuckled as Bobby pressed the floor button. "Well, if I buy your lunches, the FBI will pay for all three when I turn in my expenses. I guess you could say I'm taking my clients out to lunch; besides, with your discount..."

When the door opened and they got off, Grigsby followed as Bobby turned to the right and continued down the hall. "It's this way," she directed, then continued with, "The hospital went to a catering service for our patients' food. That lasted for three years or so, and was probably saving the hospital some money, but we had so many complaints from patients and their families about the lousy food that administration caved, brought a chef in, and went back to hospital personnel preparing the food."

"So the patients get the same food we're eating?"

"Well, unless the patient's doctor has him or her on a restricted diet of some kind. Even if that's so, the food is so much better than that damn catered stuff. Sorry, but we all hated that crap."

Bobby stopped at a door. "Let me peek in and make sure she's dressed." She swiped the key card and eased the door open a crack, stuck her head in for a second, then pushed the door open. "Come on in. She's dressed."

Bobby and Sandra hugged. "Take the chair. Sandra and I will sit on the bed while we eat," Bobby said. "Now, what's this all about?"

-------

With Sandra at the head of the bed and Bobby at the foot, they rolled Art Hanes' hospital bed down the hallway toward the elevators. Two agents preceded them and two took up the rear, with Grigsby following. "This feels really odd," Hanes complained.

"Why?" Bobby asked.

"'Why?'" he repeated. "I'm wearing a hospital gown that is open down the back, and all I have covering me is a sheet." He hesitated as two women and a man, obviously looking for a patient's room, walked by going in the opposite direction. Art waited as the nurses negotiated a corner with his bed, then, "I feel like everyone we meet is staring at me."

Both nurses laughed. "And how many times have you been in a hospital and seen someone pass by on a hospital bed, and ... not thought a thing about it?"

"Well ... I've only been in a hospital a few times in my life, but I guess I didn't pay much attention. Still, it's me this time, and it's kinda like having strangers walk through your bedroom, or something."

"This is the fourth time you've done this," Sandra said. "Once as you went to Surgery — of course you were unconscious then. The second time was when you left Surgery to go to Recovery. The third time as you were brought from Recovery to SICU, then this time."

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've been fully conscious out in the hallways, and I feel like a fool."

They had to wait at the elevators while two of the agents went to the fourth floor to make sure everything was safe. Shortly, all of them were back together moving down the long hall toward the VIP suite.

One agent held the door open as the women pushed the bed through, then on past the sitting room with its couch that folded out into a bed and a recliner that made a second bed. The men stood aside as the nurses expertly maneuvered the bed around corners until it was parallel and against the bed in the patient room.

Shortly after leaving SICU, the agents had tried to help with the bed, but were politely asked by the nurses to let them do it. The implication was strong that the agents would just be in the way — which was true.

"You two go get the metal detector and set it up," Grigsby instructed.

"Yes, Sir," two of the agents chorused.

When it became obvious that the nurses were going to move him to the other bed, Hanes tried to get his good arm under him to help push himself over. "Don't," Sandra said. "Just let us. Hold your arms like this," she said, demonstrating, as she crossed her arms in front of her body.

Hanes knew the two women would never be able to move him, even as they pulled the bottom sheet loose, cocooned his body in it, gripped the sheet, counted to three ... and suddenly he was on the other bed.

"Relax," Bobby said, "let us roll you to your side so we can get the sheet out from under you."

Art's gown had pulled above his groin when they moved him from one bed to the other, but before he could manage to reach down, Sandra pulled the gown back into place. The sheet covering him was quickly gone, and with a snap, Bobby put another sheet over him, and both nurses tucked it in, mitering the corners. The entire process took less than a minute.

They untangled the IV tubing, and one of them hit the button on the pain pump. "Take a short nap," Bobby said, "Later, we'll get your catheter out and get you up for a few minutes."

"Get me up?" Hanes said, incredulously. "Did you say 'get me up?'"

Bobby had turned to the computer mounted on the wall to catch up with her charting. She and Sandra said together, "Yep."

Sandra continued with, "You'll probably be leaving for home in three or four days. You have only a slight temperature now, and there aren't any signs of infection; your blood cultures are negative, and you're breathing on your own. The doctor will kick you out of here to make room for sick people. There's no reason to keep a healthy guy like you in the hospital."

"You're joking, right?" Grigsby couldn't help asking.

Sandra smiled at him. "Not at all. We're going to get him up to a chair for thirty minutes or so, then before bedtime, we'll have him standing a little. We'll begin slowly, of course, but patients heal better if they're mobile."

"So I need to get started looking at extended care facilities?" Grigsby said.

Sandra and Bobby looked at each other, and Sandra nodded. Bobby turned to Grigsby. "We're aware that Mr. Hanes doesn't have a home in the area..." After a slight hesitation, "We have something we need to discuss with you." She glanced at Hanes as he tried unsuccessfully to keep his eyes open. "We need to return this bed to SICU. Then we'll be back. Sandra and I have an idea."

-------

A little later, Bobby, Sandra and Grigsby sat drinking coffee in the small living room of the VIP suite. There was a coffee maker, a small refrigerator and a nice TV to go with the couch, recliner and a couple of comfortable chairs.

"Okay, ladies, what do we need to talk about? And I'm still shocked about agent Hanes leaving the hospital so quickly."

Bobby smiled at the ASAC. "Ever stop to think what it does to a woman to have a baby pushed through her vagina?"

Nurses have no modesty,  Grigsby thought. Damn, I know my face is red. What the hell is she talking about? "Well, uh, I guess I haven't thought much about it..."

"Our mothers are here one day, and unless there are complications, gone home the next. Years ago, they stayed in the hospital five days to a week, depending on the hospital and the doctor, for a normal birth with no complications, but now, the insurance companies refuse to pay unless there are extenuating circumstances. Most of our intensive nursing is over for Mr. Hanes. I imagine he'll be on IV antibiotics for a couple more days, then his medications can be given orally. He will need assistance to do anything — literally. But that assistance can be given almost anywhere. Even if he had a family to help him; however, he should still have professional care to make sure nothing goes wrong, and to monitor his progress. This man came very near death, and it is going to take time for his body to heal. Plus, we don't want an infection to become established before it's detected."

"And what does all this mean? I know you have something in mind."

Bobby leaned forward to catch Grigsby's eye. "We live in a big old six bedroom house just outside the city limits. We've had the wiring modernized throughout, and we have finished remodeling the kitchen, den and two of the bedrooms. We're a bit shy on living room furniture, but we'll take care of that when we manage to save up the money so we can furnish the room properly. The house is all on one floor; you can drive right up to the back porch, and it only has two steps."

The sisters looked at each other. "I can't believe we're saying this, but here goes. We propose our home as your extended care facility. We're experienced nurses, obviously, and we're used to working opposite shifts. We heard you say something to your agents about the administrator. If you can talk him into giving us a leave of absence while continuing our insurance and benefits, with your agency paying our salaries, we'll be glad to donate our home for Mr. Hanes recuperation."

"I..." Grigsby said, then stopped. Fuck it. Whatley said to handle it. Then to the two nurses, "As you probably know, Agent Hanes isn't from around here, nor does he have family who could take care of him during his convalescence. After what he told me earlier, I'm a lot more concerned for his safety, and having him in an extended care facility would bring up some very difficult security issues. Our safe houses in the area are in use right now." Grigsby stopped to think. Then making up his mind, he said, "Hmmm. I need to see the house, then get things cleared with my boss. If I think the house will work, I'll get my boss to talk to the administrator. If that flies, we'll negotiate a rental price for your home."

He sat thinking for a minute, staring over their heads. Finally, "What will it take to get another nurse in here to be with Agent Hanes while we go take a look at your house?"

Bobby looked at her sister, then back at Grigsby. "You get us the okay to leave the hospital with you, and we'll talk to the charge nurse on this floor."

Grigsby stood up, then stopped. "Don't tell the charge nurse, or anyone else, your idea about using your house. Absolutely no one. Understand?"

"Agreed," both nurses said in unison.

-------

Bobby was sitting in the right front seat as Grigsby maneuvered the big SUV into the drive.

"Go on around to the back," Sandra, who was sitting in the second seat, said as she leaned forward to point.

"Yeah, good idea," her sister agreed.

"Hey, this place isn't bad," the ASAC said as he stopped the vehicle near the back porch a couple of moments later. "But I imagine with all those oaks in the yard there is a lot of leaf raking this time of year," he commented just before opening his door.

The three stood near the back steps looking around. "Our neighbors rake," Bobby said, "We just run the lawn mower over the yard and mulch the leaves up. Heck of a lot easier to ride the mower around the yard than to do all that raking and bagging. Here in the south, our grass usually grows sporadically even into December, depending on how cold it gets. So, it has to be cut every now and then, anyway. Cutting also takes care of the leaves."

"Well, your lawn looks nice," Grigsby complimented.

"Thank you. We don't think it looks nice enough to be called a lawn, so we just call it a yard. It hasn't been sodded or seeded, so there's a duke's mixture of weeds and grass, but yeah, it looks okay when we keep it cut."

Grigsby looked at the back steps. "The porch is less than three feet high, but you don't have a wheelchair ramp. I suppose we'll have..."

"Maybe not," Sandra said. "Bobby and I have thought about that. Watch."

Both nurses quickly went up the two steps, then at the edge of the porch, Bobby put her right arm around Sandra, then with Bobby holding her right foot up a little to simulate Art's bad leg, they eased her down on the porch floor. With Sandra again helping her, Bobby edged a little closer to the side of the porch, put her feet over the side and stood up on the ground, still holding one foot up.

"Mr. Hanes is a strong young man. In a few days, much of his strength will come back. With a crutch and both of us helping him; piece of cake," Sandra said. "Plus, he'll be walking before you know it."

"Also," Bobby joined in, "a sudden addition of a new wheelchair ramp might be a flag for people looking for him."

"Point," Grigsby said. "Yeah, if they somehow think he's in a safe house, I imagine they would think he would need a ramp. Hmmm."

Grigsby stood back looking at the old house. The outside was somewhat weathered, but the paint wasn't peeling.

Bobby realized where Grigsby was looking. "We're going to install vinyl siding when we finish the inside, but there isn't a rush. The house was built in the fifties. The people who originally owned it also owned a sawmill a block or so from here. The remains of the old building are still there. There's nothing left but the framework covered by an old tin roof, but everything that's left there is made of rough-sawn oak. I guess the owners liked oak, and owning a sawmill, had access to it. Heck, underneath the drywall, this house is sealed with tongue and groove rough oak boards. We've finished the floors in the living room and two of the bedrooms. They're made of beautiful oak with seams that are sometimes almost invisible, even after all these years."

"How many rooms?"

"It has six bedrooms, three baths, a living room, den, dining room and kitchen. There is an unfinished basement under half of the house with stairwell access from the den, but there isn't an exit to the outside from down there. If there were, we could fix the basement up and rent it for an apartment. We have the heat and air shut off to the rooms we don't use; otherwise, the electric bill would be a nightmare. The house is a bank repo that had stood vacant for five years when we first saw it. I guess we found out why no one wanted to buy it."

Sandra put her arm around her sister. "I keep telling her we just need to find us a couple of husbands, and have three or four kids apiece. There is plenty of room for two families. We surely have enough bedrooms," she laughed. "Come on, let's show him the house," she said to Bobby.

THE RETREAT

Now that school was over for the day, Selina headed for her suite. Finding a frustrated Billy trying to get out of his kennel, the little genius stopped to stare at him. The kitten jumped at the door of the cage, clung there and stuck his paw through the bars, slapping at the catch. However, the handle of the small lock had to be raised, then slid to the side a couple of inches before it would release the door.

"Oh, so that's how you got out of your kennel. I guess I could have left my bedroom door ajar, but I'm almost certain the hallway door was closed. We are both guests here, and you should act accordingly. Running through the halls unsupervised is not one of your options."

Billy returned to the floor of his cage, then stuck his paw through the bars at another angle, still slapping at the lock.

Selina ignored him as she removed her clothes, then headed for the bathroom. A few minutes later, after running the bathtub two thirds full, she returned to the howling kitten. "You make a considerable amount of noise, and it does you little good. You smell, and that needs to be corrected. I've prepared a bubble bath and we will use it to get both of us clean."

"Mmeeoooow," Billy said, sorrowfully.

"Your attempts to appear pitiful will not avail you of my sympathy. I know better. Now come here and experience your first bath," she said, opening the cage door. "The articles I have read indicate that cats do not like water; therefore, your training concerning your bathing will begin this afternoon."

Picking the kitten up, she took him into the bathroom. "I have extra towels laying there on the floor beside the bath mat. The hair dryer is ready for use after I have towel dried you."

Selina stepped into the tub and sat, still holding Billy out of the water. "Mmeeow," he quietly said as he turned his head to stare down at the water.

The six-year-old pushed the thick layer of bubbles aside, then held Billy up to her face. "I know this will undoubtedly feel strange to you to start with, but I have endeavored to adjust the water temperature in order for you to be as comfortable as possible. Now just relax and we will enjoy a bath together."

Selina lowered a very watchful cat toward the water.



-------

Chapter 115


THE RETREAT, THURSDAY EVENING

Jeff, Diana, Arlene, Laura, Joyce, Hope, Jennie and Ann were in the living room, most of them watching the news. Most, because Ann was snuggled to Jeff's side while they lay on a recliner, and she had no interest in the news at all.

"Hope will see us," Jeff whispered in her ear as he trapped Ann's hand when it slid nearer his groin.

"I know she's had problems, but are we supposed to pretend there is no sex in our home? I'm going to cuddle with my man. She'll get used to it," Ann whispered back, her hand headed for his groin again.

Her hand froze short of its goal, though, as Selina walked in bearing a now fluffy, but growling kitten, its ears laid flat on its head. There were three small Band Aids on Selina's left cheek, one on her forehead just below her hairline, and two on her left forearm. She marched up to Diana. "My Queen, where might I resupply the small Band Aids for my medicine cabinet? There was an assortment package in the first aid kit, but I have used all of the small ones that were in the box. Truthfully, Billy did not appreciate his bath; however, I have a considerable strength and weight advantage over him, and he will become accustomed to the water. Admittedly, he was much stronger and faster than I had anticipated."

Diana hesitated for a second, refusing the laughter that bubbled up inside her, realizing it would be an insult to the child. But then Billy leaped from Selina's arms to dash behind Diana and turn, bristling, to glare at Selina amid chuckles from the group. Diana managed to keep hers to a small "Urrrk" with a painfully straight face. Then the mother in her awoke. "Are you hurt? Are any of those scratches deep? Did you put antibiotic ointment on them? Maybe I need to look at them," she said, preparing to stand.

"No My Queen. My injuries are superficial, and I had enough of the small Band Aids, but I anticipate that I will need more in the future. And I did employ the ointment I discovered in the first aid kit in my bathroom."

Diana relaxed, realizing that Selina wasn't hurt. "First off, you're still calling me your Queen, and we've discussed that, already..."

"But you are the Queen of this extended family. As I explained previously, it would be disrespectful for someone my age to refer to you by your given name. I realize that everyone else here refers to you by your first name, or an endearment, but I respectfully request to continue my manner of address until I am older. It would seem ... appropriate to do so."

"I uh..." Diana got out as she looked at Jeff for help.

Anticipating, Selina turned to Jeff. "And equally so to you, My Prime. I could never refer to you without using a respectful manner of address, particularly now that I have learned more of your background."

Jeff realized he wasn't speaking to a six-year-old at the moment, despite the fact that the child in front of him was sporting a number of Band Aids and had walked in holding a kitten that had caused her to need them. Clearing his throat, "Look, Baby. Diana is, indeed, a Queen. The Queen of our household, and yes, I guess I am a Prime, but neither of those makes us any better than the next person. We would both appreciate it if you would just call us by our names..."

Tears suddenly sparkled Selina's eyes, and she turned and fled the room. Billy emitted a surprised, "Meewww," and darted after her.

"That went well," Diana said sarcastically as she came to her feet. "I'll go talk to her."

"No," Arlene said, quickly standing. "I'll do it. I'll probably stay with her tonight if she will allow me. We need to get to know each other better, anyway."

"Tell her I'm sorry, and I'll come and apologize when she's not so upset. Tell her I would be proud to be referred to as her Prime," Jeff said.

"And I as her Queen. Tell her I didn't realize..."

"I'll handle it, Mom," Arlene said, hurrying out of the room.

Jeff stood to stare out the window. "She looks like a kid," he quietly said. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

JUST OUTSIDE ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The back door of the nurses' home opened into the kitchen. "Hey, this is nice. You two have spent some money in here," the ASAC said as he walked in and looked around at the obviously new cabinets and granite counter tops. "Granted, I don't know much about kitchens, but this one sure looks nice."

"We had some money from our folks..." Bobby started, but stopped when her voice threatened to break. "Anyway, we bought the cabinets at Lowe's, but we installed them ourselves."

"Well, we did have some help," Sandra added with a quiet giggle.

The two nurses looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Turning back to Grigsby, Bobby said, "We did a lot of the work in the house ourselves, but the wall cabinets were too much for us weight-wise. This is an older neighborhood, mostly retired people, and one of our neighbors a couple of doors down has two grandsons. We kinda drafted them into lifting the wall cabinets while we attached them. Otherwise, we did everything in here ourselves."

"You would be amazed what short shorts and tight tops will get you from eighteen and nineteen-year-old boys," Sandra offered. "But we also paid them for their time."

Bobby continued, "We did most of the plumbing, too. We asked around until someone told us where a retired plumber lived. He's a widower. We baked him a cake and went visiting. We were a little more subtle with him than we were with the young men, though. He showed us what to do and got us started. Heck, anyone can learn to glue plastic pipes together, although there are a couple of tricks that he showed us. We bought How To books, and even went to Lowe's with our digital camera. They have displays of wiring and plumbing on the walls. We took pictures and printed them out to go along with the books. In addition, we watched clips on the computer on how to do things. We're outside the city limits here; not that anyone would notice what's going on inside the house, anyway, or care. This isn't one of the northern cities where everything has to be done by a licensed this or that, or done by a union person.

"The retired plumber knew a retired electrician that needed a little extra money, so he did the wiring of the house with our help. We learned a lot from him in the process, and it didn't cost us nearly as much as it would have if we had hired a company to do it."

They walked from the large kitchen into an equally large dining room that had obviously not been updated yet.

"We haven't touched this room; we usually just eat in the kitchen. The big table and chairs there," she said nodding, "were left in the house from the previous owners. We'll redo this room one of these days, but it's serviceable as it is, though not very nice. There are other rooms more important right now," Sandra said.

"Wow," Grigsby remarked as they stepped into the living room. "This floor is so shiny it looks wet." He stood looking down at his feet for a moment, then, "You can actually see yourself in it."

The nurses chuckled again and Sandra continued. "You should have seen us trying to manhandle that big floor sander until we got the hang of operating it. Fortunately, all the floors have been here so long that the wood is extremely dry and hard. If not, we would have gouged grooves in it until we learned how to use the machine. We wore out a lot of sanding belts before we were through with the living room. You wouldn't believe how tough that old oak is."

Bobby frowned a little. "We probably shouldn't have used the high-gloss polyurethane. The floor will probably show marks sooner than a satin finish would have. We put five coats on with a light sanding between each coat, and it looks good for now. We can always lightly sand it and put on a fresh coat of urethane if we have to."

"Well, it surely is beautiful now."

"The room is a little bare with only a couch, chair and TV, but we spend most of our off time working on the house, so watching TV in here isn't high on our list of things to do, plus we have smaller TV's in our bedrooms."

"Come on," Sandra said as she motioned Grigsby toward the doorway that led to the den. "We'll show you the rest of the place. We're finished with the den, but our furniture in there is Goodwill. When we're through with the house, we'll put our money toward nicer furniture."

Later they approached the bedrooms. "That's Sandra's room there," Bobby said, motioning to the door on the right side of the hall. "This is mine on this side. Each has its own bath. Well, they do now since we remodeled them," she corrected. "The plumber helped us set the commodes, but we did the rest of the plumbing and carpenter work ourselves. We're beginning to have a real assortment of power tools. A lot of men would be jealous," she finished, grinning.

As Bobby was talking, she had begun to open her bedroom door to usher Grigsby in. Suddenly, she slammed the door back closed. "Uh, wait just a minute," she said to Grigsby, her face flaming. Opening the door just enough for her to slip in, she hastened into the room, quickly closing the door behind her.

Sandra tried for a second to act casual, but it was obvious that Grigsby already had a good idea what was wrong.

"Okay," Bobby said as she opened the door after returning her clitoral vibrator to the bedside table drawer. Then looking at Grigsby's face as he walked in, she sighed, "Oh, crap, we're all adults here. Alright, we don't have boyfriends, and I left my toy out." Then turning to her sister, "We'll look at your bedroom next. Sure you put yours away?" she asked with a devilish grin.

"Uh..." Sandra got out before turning to hurry across the hall to check.

A little later, they were back in the den, where Bobby and Sandra sat on the couch while Grigsby took a chair. The two nurses looked nervous. Everyone started to talk at the same time.

"Ladies first," Grigsby said, chuckling.

The women looked at each other, then Bobby asked him, "Well, what do you think?"

"Hmmm, I guess I need to discuss a few things with you two. First off, a safe house is useless if anyone knows it's one. That's obvious of course, but crucial to whomever we're trying to protect. I can't discuss this in detail, as you no doubt realize, but I will say that Agent Hanes had information that turned out to be far more important than he realized it would be. His information caused several other ... things that we knew to ... uh, fall into place. He has seen certain individuals and we might be able to expand on that information, even though he doesn't know their names, plus he's aware of locations that we didn't know about.

"We assumed that the ... organization might want him dead, and we were not able to keep the gunfight out of the media, nor were we able to suppress the information that an FBI agent was involved, since he had identified himself when he called 911. I'm certainly not inferring that was the wrong thing for him to do. Conversely, it probably went a long way toward saving his life. Without the police blocking intersections and the paramedic's record run in that rescue unit, Agent Hanes would have died.

"After his recent debriefing, we are convinced that he is in more danger than we first suspected. Due to recent high-profile terrorists activities, we have all probably realized that it is very difficult to keep someone from being targeted and killed if the other side is determined, and has the resources to accomplish their goals. The only way we can keep Agent Hanes safe until we arrest and try these individuals is to secrete him where no one will ever know his location. His injuries and need for medical care complicate this task immensely. Otherwise, we could ship him off to a cattle ranch in Montana, or a beach house in Florida, or some other secret location where no one would ever know who he was.

"Our next best option, everything considered, is to put him in a safe house in the area and to try to maintain as much of his medical care on the premises as we can. Now, you two have offered to not only let us use your home as a safe house, but you are willing to provide nursing services as well.

"You must understand, however, that this would involve a certain amount of danger for the two of you. To keep you as safe as possible, I am willing to put personnel in the house with you and station others on the outside, as well. After the debriefing, my superior and I are convinced we will be able to take down a lot more of the people in this organization with Agent Hanes' help. You will be safe, as will as Agent Hanes, if ... his stay here remains a secret. These people are far from stupid. They will try to get to him. I'm amazed there hasn't been an attempt already. You two need to think carefully about this before you say yes. I don't want you to do this for a week, only to have you suddenly decide you want out."

"We'll do it," both women said almost together.

"And we won't back out," Sandra finished for them.

"I would prefer that you wait, think about and discuss this between yourselves before you make a decision. This would mean having several people living in your home for an extended period of time. We would, of course, provide everything, compensate you for the use of your house and pay your regular salaries. And yes, I do realize that you would be working seven days a week. On the plus side, you should have a considerable amount to add to your refurbishing fund when this is over, and as Agent Hanes' health improves, your duties should taper off accordingly.

"The doctor says Hanes will need physical therapy, but his trips to and from here on a regular basis for that therapy will greatly increase the chance of his whereabouts being discovered. People will probably see him leaving or coming back, or will at least see vehicles with blacked out windows coming and going. Our transport vehicle could be followed from the rehab location by the simple expediency of attaching a tracker to the vehicle while he's in rehab. Obviously, we will guard our vehicles, and regularly change them, and inspect them for bugs, but things happen. As long as he stays here and we keep traffic in and out of your home to a minimum, we stand a far better chance of keeping him safe.

"We also need your input on the physical therapy problem. You might have ideas that we haven't considered. We are dedicated to getting Agent Hanes back to one hundred percent within a six-month time frame, and the backing for this goes well up the chain of command. My boss and I aren't the only ones involved in this, anymore. Sometimes even politicians manage to do something good. As I've said, the agency has had some bad publicity lately. Not doing everything possible to rehabilitate an agent who the news media has made out to be a hero would reflect badly on our higher-ups. The higher you go in the agency, the more political the position — my opinion, not necessarily what those people would say."

"Why six months?" Sandra asked.

Grigsby sighed. "If he isn't physically one hundred percent after six months, he'll be retired on medical disability. What he would draw on medical retirement, should that happen, won't be nearly as much as he makes now. It's not the way for a young man to go. Since he has used deadly force, his return to work will also have to be cleared by a psychologist. That aside, I again remind you that if this works out, there will be some danger for you two. We will try our best to minimize that danger, but we cannot eliminate it entirely. This ... organization is wealthy and is enmeshed within our society. It's like fighting a snake with a hundred heads. We cut off one head, only to realize that other heads have sprouted. We received a large amount of information from a new source a few weeks ago, which is helping us immensely, but there is still much to do."

(Note: He is referring to information the General gave the FBI after Jeff's mission to dispose of Ingles)

They all sat without further comment for a time, each with their own thoughts, then, "We're not as helpless as you might think. We didn't show you the basement," Bobby said, puzzling Grigsby.

The nurses stood and Bobby added, "Just come with us. Things will make more sense when you see for yourself."

Sandra flipped the switch for the lights as they started down the stairs from the den. A few moments later, they were in the basement. The floor was concrete, the walls concrete block, and there were several steel support posts in a line across the center of the room. There were no windows because the large room was mostly below ground level. The place was practically bare, save for two long workbenches made of three quarter inch plywood along one wall, two high stools by one of the workbenches, two upright metal cabinets, and a line of open shelves over the workbench on the right. There was a circular saw, several nail guns of various sizes, power drills, and an assortment of hand tools on one of the benches. On the other workbench farther down the wall, stood an odd-looking blue machine. "That..." Grigsby began as he started toward the equipment on the big workbench.

" ... Is a Dillon 550B," Sandra continued as she proudly identified the loading equipment. "We only have dies for .38/357, 9mm and .45, but that's all we shoot, anyway."

Grigsby suddenly stopped and turned to the women. "Now I know you two. I knew I had seen you before, but the nurse uniforms confused my memory. I saw the two of you shoot a couple of years ago. You tied for third place in that steel plate match, didn't you?"

(Note: There are many variations on steel plate shooting, but basically, multiple round steel plates are set on edge to allow them to fall over when hit with a bullet. To do well in a match, the shooter not only has to fire accurately, but very rapidly as well.)

The women looked at each other. "But we don't remember seeing you..." Bobby trailed off.

"I didn't compete. I just came with one of the other agents who did." Then with Grigsby's grin widening, "But he got his butt kicked in that match. There were some really good shooters there that day, and I'm looking at two of them," he finished as the grin turned into a chuckle.

"We were lucky in that match," Sandra said. Before Grigsby could comment further, she handed him a pair of safety glasses. When everyone had donned glasses, Sandra poured some powder in the powder measure, and noted that the indicator showed primers in the machine. After putting an empty shell casing in, she pulled the handle, advancing the turret and seating a primer. Pulling the handle again caused a precisely measured amount of powder to drop into the empty shell. She put a bullet in the top of the casing, then pulled the handle to advance the turret again and seat the bullet to the proper depth while crimping it in. One more pull caused the completed round to fall into the output tray. If she had continued to feed empty shell casings and bullets, each pull of the handle would result in a completed round in the output tray.

Bobby handed the round to Grigsby for his inspection. "The company says the machine will load four hundred rounds per hour, but we're so cautious, we seldom load more than two hundred in an hour. Still, it's fun and the cost of our ammunition is greatly reduced. One thing that made us so cautious was what a guy told us about getting a primer upside down in the primer tube. When the primer's turn came for the machine to pick it up, the primer blew, which caused the rest of however many were still in the tube to go. He said it didn't hurt him, but sure scared the crap out of him. We took what he said to heart and thus make absolutely certain the primers are all turned the correct way when we put them in the feed tube."

Grigsby turned the freshly-minted 9mm pistol bullet over in his hands. "This is the best looking reload I've ever seen. It looks every bit as good as my duty rounds. It looks brand new."

The women chuckled. Bobby reached over to pick up a piece of brass (empty cartridge casing) and showed it to Grigsby. "Actually that round isn't really a reload because the brass just came out of the factory box. Next time we load it, it will be a reload; now it's a brand new hand-loaded 9mm round."

Back in the kitchen a short time later, the three sat drinking soft drinks. The nurses looked at each other, and Bobby nodded to Sandra, who turned to Grigsby. "We want to do it. We're sure."

The ASAC downed the last of his drink. "Okay, let's get the two of you back to the hospital, and I'll run this by my boss. He's already told me to handle things, so I expect he will rubber stamp whatever I bring to him. In other words, if things go sideways, I get the blame. Everything goes right, well, he'll look good," he finished, chuckling, "and part of my job is to make him look good. One day I'll make SAC; they'll move me to a different city and my ASAC will make me look good — hopefully."

"Kinda like our unit manager," Bobby said, smiling. "When everything goes smoothly, she gets the credit for a well-run unit. When things screw up, our charge nurse catches hell."

Bobby and Sandra chuckled, but Grigsby sat lost in thought for a moment, then, "There's a bedroom in the VIP suite, and since you two don't have other patients any more, do you think you could utilize that bedroom? The less you are seen going in and out, the less chance an outsider will know about what's going on. I would really feel better..."

"Let us get a couple uniforms and pack a bag with the rest of the stuff we'll need," Sandra said. "But understand, now that Mr. Hanes has had his surgeries, he would normally be put on a med/surge floor and share his nurse with five to seven other patients. In other words, he would probably see his nurse maybe five times in twelve hours, unless he has problems."

"We're aware of that, but my boss was emphatic about nursing care, and we could never really secure one of the regular rooms as well as we can the VIP suite, particularly the way it's situated at the end of the hall on that wing. If you two stay in the suite, other than obtaining whatever is necessary to take care of your patient and going to the cafeteria, it would simplify things for us."

"It will only take us a few minutes to gather up what we'll need," Sandra said as the two got up and hurried out of the kitchen.

While the nurses went to pack, Grigsby took the drink bottles and tossed them in the trash, then stood staring out the kitchen window as he waited, his mind active. I didn't even know I had a problem until I came home and my wife was gone. If the agency manages to make inroads into this slavery ring because of what Hanes has brought us, and ... I keep him safe, I just might make SAC. Hell, I don't have a wife to go home to any more; I can spend as much time on my job as I need to. I wonder if she has a lover. No matter. Nothing I can do about it, anyway. I don't even know where she is.

Shortly, they were all back in the SUV and on their way to the hospital.

THE RETREAT

Kayla grabbed Susan's hand, pulling the older woman into one of the sitting rooms.

"What?" Susan said, turning to Kayla once she had closed the door.

Kayla stopped to stare.

"What?" Susan said again. "Is there something wrong? You're looking at me with an odd..."

"You look so young," Kayla said, seeming to have to tear her eyes from Diana's mother. "Do you have any idea how much you, Diana and Arlene look alike? You don't look a day over thirty, and your figure is beyond sexy. Your hair, your body ... I know that Little One reduced your apparent age, but ... you're truly beautiful."

Susan abruptly sat on one of the window seats, and Kayla sat beside her. "Thank you. You flatter me." Then after a moment, "I came to Winter Park and this mountain with the purpose of finding out what was going on. I had every intention of making my son-in-law's life miserable. I resented him, even though I had always been attracted to him. The resentment is the way I handled that attraction, I guess. When I used to have to listen to the two of them making love in their bedroom, I would become so excited that ... Oh, well; you know. We're sleeping in the same bed and have watched him — felt him — making love to his wives, and to each of us, too."

"Are you as scared as I am?" Kayla quietly questioned.

"Is that what this is all about?" Susan stalled.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Kayla sighed. "You really need to watch more of his vids, though. He sees things — realizes things — before his team. Sometimes it's uncanny. I'm ... scared. I'm not worthy of him. I know that sounds ... melodramatic, but I mean it. The thing with the ship. He could take that ship and rule Earth. From what the scientists are saying, there probably isn't anything on this planet that could even mark it, let alone destroy it, yet he's satisfied to just work on his inventions and be here with us. What if I let something happen to him?"

"Oh, you're unworthy? Susan said. "How about me? I've consistently bitched about him spoiling my daughter's childhood. And yeah, their first years were hard on her — and to be truthful, on both of them — but I never let up. Now he's asked me to marry him. Made love to me in the hallway in front of God and everybody. Well, not exactly everybody, but you know what I mean. And he's made love to me in that big bed with all of his wives and you watching. Saturday night I'm going to be his wife — one of them, anyway. I woke up last night with Jennie snuggled on one side of me, and you on the other. I reached over and touched my lips to yours. You didn't wake, but I lay there and watched you sleep in the dim light of the bedroom, and I realized that I love you — love everyone in that bed.

"I swear to you there isn't a lesbian bone in my body, yet I have watched several of Jeff's wives, soon to be my sister-wives, nursing Diana. And ... I didn't see one thing wrong with it. I almost did it myself. I don't understand what's going on. I don't understand why Jeff wants me to be one of his wives, but I can feel his love for me. Scared? I'm fucking petrified. I can't believe I'm going to marry my son-in-law,  even if the marriage isn't a legal one."

"You don't know?"

"'Know?' Know what?"

"The marriage. It can't be a marriage as far as legalities are concerned — true. It isn't licensed by the state, but all of Jeff's wives become part of the corporation. Diana says we will be equal partners in everything should anything happen to Jeff — God forbid. Jeff and Diana consider this a real marriage. There can be no divorce, but we and all the rest will sign a contract that will be — according to Diana — more binding than a marriage contract could ever be."

The women quietly sat side by side for a while, both looking out the window, their hands interlocked, but neither was consciously aware that they were. Finally, Susan spoke. "You sure you want us to do this together? Diana said everyone else had a wedding night alone with Jeff."

"Have you changed your mind?" Kayla asked. "If you have, you can go Saturday and I'll wait until Sunday."

"No. No. I haven't changed my mind. I just wanted to make certain."

Kayla let out a soft giggle. "Did you realize I held your hand last night while he was making love to you?"

Susan looked over at Kayla and smiled. "I have a vague memory of someone holding my hand. I guess I never thought to even wonder who it was. I was too busy humping my pussy up to him, and ... coming," she finished with a soft giggle.

Kayla's smile grew. "He had to wake me when my turn came. I must have orgasmed when you did. I don't know how many times we came, but I guess I went out when you did, as well. I don't see the point in having two ceremonies for us. If he wants, he can put us both out in just a few minutes."

Susan smiled at Kayla. "There is one thing we need to figure out."

"Oh?"

"Diana tells me they have a ... sort of tradition — if we want to participate, but I don't know how it will work with two of us," Susan continued.

"I like traditions."

Susan's face blushed despite her trying not to. "The next morning after the wedding night, Jeff walks into the kitchen with his new bride in his arms. She shows her come-filled pussy and makes a comment about being broken."

"No way," Kayla said, shaking her head. "That would embarrass me to death."

"Why? I've seen your pussy quite a few times now, and it has had come in it once or twice," she teased. Then seriously, "We shower together, dress together, and we douched at the same time this morning. Besides, there won't be anyone in the kitchen other than our sister-wives."

Kayla giggled despite herself. "And, who started this 'tradition?'"

"I think it was one of Jeff's younger wives, but I'm not sure."

"And what about Nat, Nicki, and Whitney? Are they going to be there? Not to even mention Hope?"

"I don't know about the three, and I didn't even think about Hope. She might get upset. Heck, I don't know. I guess what we're talking about is our Queen's business."

"But you're a Queen, too," Kayla reminded.

Susan let out a soft sigh. "I don't feel like a Queen. I've always lactated. Now it's a lot more than it was before I came out here, though. But Diana is the Queen of this household. She makes the decisions..."

Kayla interrupted with, "I almost nursed your breast last night. Jeff sucked on your right breast for a while, then changed to your left. The right one kept leaking when he changed breasts, and I almost..."

"You should have," Susan whispered, much to her own consternation.

The two squeezed each other's hands, giggling like schoolgirls.



-------

Chapter 116

HOSPITAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Bobby and Sandra walked into Hanes' room and closed the door behind them. Sandra pulled the sheet down to his knees. "Time to get that Foley out."

"Yes," Hanes enthused. "I hate that thing."

"Just hang on a minute while I deflate the balloon, then we'll get the catheter out." When she was ready, she spoke to Hanes again. "This might make you feel like you need to pee, but it will be over in a second."

"I'm ready," Art said, expecting pain.

Bobby leaned over and kissed him on the mouth while Sandra pulled the Foley out. If there was any discomfort, Art didn't notice it.

Sandra just stood, Hanes' dick in one hand and the catheter in the other, as she stared at her sister. When Hanes' cock began to swell, she finally realized what she was doing. She turned his dick loose as if it were going to burn her, pulled his gown back down, and covered him with the sheet while her sister stood blushing.

Bobby grabbed the tubing and the bag. "I'll dispose of these. Your turn," she finished, walking out of the room.

Art wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew he damn sure liked it.

Sandra took the couple of steps to the head of the bed. She knew this could get them fired, even disciplined by the board of nursing, if the hospital found out, but she was going to do it, anyway. Leaning over, she put her mouth against his, her world suddenly becoming the kiss. She didn't know how long it lasted, probably not very long, though. When she moved her face back, Bobby was again standing on the other side of the bed, a smile splitting her face.

Sandra stood there numb as Bobby said, "If we have offended you, you can get us in big trouble with a complaint of sexual harassment. We won't lie or deny it."

Agent Hanes was having a hard time controlling the grin on his face — not that he was trying much — then when he saw Bobby's eyes shift toward his groin and the tent in the sheet there, he desperately tried to control something else.

"I'd be a fool to complain, Ladies, and my mom didn't raise any fools," he finished, chuckling.

"We need to get you up and into that chair there," Sandra said, trying to change the subject as she nodded to a comfortable-looking armchair by the bed. "But we'll let you sit on the side of the bed for a few minutes to see if you have any dizziness. Try to put only a minimal amount of weight on your right leg this time. Just put your weight on your left leg and us, then pivot toward the chair. Normally we would have you using a walker to begin with, but with just your right arm functional, that wouldn't work very well. You'll use a crutch to help in the beginning, but PT will soon have you moving on the leg."

A moment later, grimacing, Hanes sat on the side of the bed with both nurses holding him.

"Dizzy?" Bobby asked.

"A little," Hanes said, his voice low. "Crap, I'm weak."

"You're doing fine. Just sit there until you feel like standing."

A couple of minutes later when Hanes said he was ready, "Okay, here we go," Sandra said as they helped him. "Just stand up very slowly. If you feel like you're going to fall, or you get dizzy, just put your weight on us. Okay?"

"Yeah," Art said, shifting his weight off the bed onto his left foot and with both women helping him, he pivoted and sat in the chair. "I'm weak," he said again. "I hope I didn't put too much weight on you two."

The sisters looked at each other, both proud of the way he had handled himself, realizing there must have been a lot of pain, but he had not complained about it at all. Used to whiners, as the nurses called them, they were doubly pleased when they had a patient who didn't complain so much about pain, even though they knew it must have hurt like crazy for Art to move around.

"You'll gain strength quickly now that you're up. We'll let you sit there for thirty minutes or so, then get you back to bed, but if you start to feel dizzy, or feel anything unusual, you tell us, okay? Tomorrow, we'll get you up several times, and have you sit up longer," Bobby said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"The bathroom seems like it's a long way," Art said with a sigh. "I know it's only a few steps, but..."

"Not as far away as you think," Sandra giggled. "You're sitting on one."

"What..." Hanes said, looking down at what appeared to be a perfectly normal-looking armchair.

The nurses smiled. "The cushion comes off and there is a pot under it. If you need to go, we'll stand you up, move the cushion and presto you have a commode."

"Damn, there goes what little modesty I have left," Hanes chuckled, but the chuckle was weak.

"Do you have to go?" Bobby asked.

"No, not now, but the next time I have to, I'd still like to try for the bathroom. I'll never get stronger if I don't get my butt to walking — well, hobbling. But that bedpan is a truly humbling experience, and this bedside commode, or whatever you call it ... Crap, hospitals take every bit of your dignity from you."

He looked over at the IV stand that the nurses had pushed nearer to him as he sat in the chair. "If I could get rid of this IV, I would feel like I'm on the way back," he said, trying for a chuckle.

Sandra, had put the blood pressure cuff on his right arm, then a few seconds later read from the machine beside his bed: "108 over 70 with a pulse of 60. Looking good Mr. Hanes."

"Art. Just Art."

There was a quiet knock on the door. When Bobby opened it, Grigsby stepped in. "Well now, what do we have here?" he said looking at Hanes sitting in the chair.

"I'm finally out of that bed. Well, in a manner of speaking," the young agent said, his voice still weak and a bit shaky.

"Have they told you?" Grigsby asked.

"Told me what?" Hanes said, looking at the nurses.

"They've offered their home as a safe house for you. I just got it cleared with my boss, and he received the okay from the hospital administrator for these two to be off for a period of time up to six months while they take care of you."

"How did he get the administrator to agree so quickly?" Sandra asked.

"Well ... I think it was a little of the old 'I've scratched your back, now mine itches, ' kind of thing," Grigsby said. "Maybe we just need to go with it and not worry too much about the details." Grigsby knew that if the SAC didn't tell him what the favor was, he didn't need to know; probably didn't even want to know.

-------

A little while later, Hanes, exhausted, was back in bed asleep. Grigsby, Sandra, Bobby and one of the guarding agents sat in the living room of the suite drinking coffee the agent had just made. Grigsby leaned back in his seat as the two nurses sat together on the couch. "As I said, my boss just approved everything, so I dropped by to let you know. There are a number of details to be worked out, yet, and I'm worried about one of those details. With you two suddenly leaving the hospital at the same time Agent Hanes does, it shouldn't take people long to figure out that you're with him."

"Uh," Bobby spoke up, "Sandra and I have been talking about that. We've been thinking about applying to CRNA school. If it were not for us trying to remodel our house, we would have already. We had planned on one of us attending, then after she finished and was back at work, the other one would go. The school is expensive, but the difference in income would make it well worth it in the end."

Grigsby took a sip of coffee while he tried to unravel the acronym. Finally, smiling, "I'm beginning to believe that the medical profession has more alphabet soup than the federal government. What..."

The two nurses chuckled, then Sandra said, "CRNA stands for Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist. The job pays really well, but there are several requirements to get into the school, plus you have to have recommendations — which we have. Several people in the unit know we have been talking about going, so we could act all excited about getting a grant or something."

"Hmmm," Grigsby said, "that sounds as if it should work, but ... I think the rumor would work better if you two weren't there to have to answer questions that are sure to come. Why don't I have the administrator send word down to your supervisors that you got a grant, and there were two last minute cancellations at the school, allowing the two of you to get in? Maybe we need to get you new cell phone numbers so some of your nurse friends don't call trying to dig for information. Do any of them ever visit?"

Bobby and Sandra looked at each other for a second. "Trey moved to Virginia, didn't she?" Sandra asked Bobby.

"Yeah, I think it was Virginia." Then Sandra turned to Grigsby. "Trey was the only nurse that ever visited, and she was just an acquaintance. Like we said, we've pretty much been loners between working on the house and the time we spend at the hospital. No one should miss us. But..." Sandra and Bobby looked at each again, then Sandra turned back to Grigsby.

"There's a problem with the CRNA school rumor."

"Oh?"

"Wrong time of the year. The schools don't start this time of year. No one at work will believe it."

"Oh, crap."

"There's something simpler," Sandra offered.

Grigsby just looked a question at her. "The administrator could send down a rumor that we had been fired for getting too 'friendly' with our patient."

Grigsby frowned. "Wouldn't that precipitate a lot of curious nurses trying to get in touch with you?"

"Both nurses let out sick chuckles. "Probably not," Bobby said, "because nobody wants to be associated with the 'leper.' The problem might 'rub off on me' kind of thing. Besides, we're loners, remember?"

"Then when this is over?" Grigsby said.

"Just put us back to work and tell the truth about what we had been doing."

Grigsby wondered how two women who looked as good as these two could be loners, but he just shrugged mentally and said, "Might work. I'll have my boss talk to the administrator and work something out." He hesitated a moment, thinking, then, "Whatley and I also discussed a couple things about Agent Hanes' therapy. We should be able to rent or buy some of the equipment the therapist would need for Hanes' PT, and we might even manage to get someone we can trust to come to the house, at least some of the time. Maybe she or he can teach you two to do some of the therapy, also. That would reduce the traffic in and out."

THE RETREAT

While Grigsby, Bobby and Sandra were having their discussion, Arlene and Selina were in the living room of the six-year-old's suite. Selina dried her eyes and offered Arlene a soft drink from the small refrigerator. The child took a sip of her own drink and started to sit on one of the overstuffed chairs, but Arlene grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. That started a new round of silent tears.

"I'm acting like a child," Selina sniffed as she looked up at Arlene. Both recognized the irony of the comment, causing Selina to smile past her tears. "Oh, you know what I mean."

"Sit here with me," Arlene said softly, as she pulled Selina down beside her on the couch.

Both girls were quiet for a time, both wondering what to say, then, "You know that Mom and Dad were just being courteous when they wanted you to call them by their first names?"

"I..." Selina started. "Upon reflection, I suppose you are correct. I seem to be overreacting lately. Perhaps I should return to the living room and apologize to them..."

"No," Arlene said, putting a restraining hand on Selina's shoulder for a moment. "Let's get to know each other a little better first. If you still think you need to, you can apologize in the morning. And both of them were going to follow you and apologize when you left the living room, but I asked them to wait. So, tell me again why you feel you have to refer to them by their titles. We do use the titles occasionally, but even then, it's because of something that's happened, or some occasion, or even sometimes when we just want to tease them a little."

Selina sighed much as an adult would. "As you have probably already realized, I have limited personal interaction skills. At home, I generally felt more secure when I was left to my own devices. I have extreme difficulty interacting successfully with children my age. They are so ... shallow. Before I arrived here, I also had to continually monitor my behavior around adults — especially my own parents.

"Doctor Boswell met with them in her office after they voiced concerns about the change in my personality. I am not certain that discontinuing the child persona when I talked to them on the phone was the correct thing to do at this juncture. Their questions concerning those conversations precipitated some interesting comments from Doctor Boswell concerning my intellect. I overheard much of the conversation, and my parents also seemed to be perturbed concerning my study topics — perhaps shocked would better describe their responses. When they returned from Doctor Boswell's office, their facial expressions were ... unusual, to understate."

Arlene sat with a grin on her face.

With an edge to her voice, Selina said, "I am unable to ascertain exactly what is amusing you regarding this conversation."

Arlene squeezed Selina's hand, the grin getting bigger. "I was just thinking that in all likelihood, my teachers probably had some unusual moments with me, even as far back as grammar school. Oh, my intelligence isn't in your category, but both Ann and I are pretty smart, and Jennie and Melissa are as well. So I can understand your wanting to keep your intelligence a secret. I can remember kids in grammar school becoming upset when I always made hundreds on tests and homework, mostly without studying. But after a while, I got smart," she giggled. "Smart,  in that I would on occasion deliberately incorrectly answer a question or problem. Ann did the same thing.

"Even then, I would have problems with a teacher who complained about me not paying attention in class, despite the fact that my grades were higher than any of the other students in the room. That pissed me off and I stopped deliberately putting any incorrect answers on my tests. Mom and Dad went to bat for me on several occasions when some obnoxious ass would discipline me for 'daydreaming' while I sat in his or her class. Some even tried to accuse me of cheating."

"Is your intelligence the principal reason you are one of our Prime's wives, even though you are his daughter?"

A frown crossed Arlene's face and Selina quickly said, "Again my curiosity has led me astray. I spoke without considering..."

"No," Arlene quickly said, "and I'm not ashamed of being his wife — far from it. Rather, I'm extremely proud of that fact." Arlene thought for a moment, then, "I'm not going to tell you all the details, for there are some things that I did that I'm ashamed of. And before you even consider it, no, I'm not ashamed of anything I have done with my father. I'll just tell you that something happened to really upset my father just before the family flew to Saint Louis to sell his patents."

The two continued to chat, and later went to the kitchen in search of a snack. On the way back to Selina's suite, Arlene asked if Selina would mind company tonight.

Selina stopped to stare at the older girl. "You would spend the night with me instead of having intercourse with your husband?"

Arlene giggled as she took Selina by her hand, the two continuing on down the hall. "I'll make up for it in the morning. Joyce will have a buddy for a little while when she goes to bed after breakfast. Dad usually makes love to her then, since she works nights."

"Why do Caitlin and Joyce work? Obviously there is no need, at least no financial one."

"That's what we all have kept asking them, but we've pushed the subject enough for the time being. If we keep on there are going to be some hard feelings. But I think they'll both quit work one of these days. Maybe Joyce thinks she has to prove herself after that guy shot her, and it seems that Caitlin is on a mission of some sort."

"Shot her? Tell me about the incident, please."

They had stopped at the door of Selina's suite as they talked. "I'll tell you about it in a few minutes. Let me go get something to sleep in and say goodnight to my husband. I'll be back shortly and we can talk as long as we like."

Arlene jogged on down the hall while Selina went into her suite to get ready for bed.

A few minutes later in the Matthews' suite, Arlene grabbed up a modest negligée and a change of clothes for the next day, hugged her Mom, then turned to kiss her father. "She's fine," she told them before they could ask. "She's gone through several shocks in the last few days and her emotions are a little near the surface right now. Suddenly, her parents are going to be practically on the other side of the planet, she's in a new school and living with new people. She's really in need of a friend."

Diana put one arm around Arlene and the other around her husband. "Please tell Selina that I would be honored for her to call me her Queen, and I'm very ashamed of my comments."

"And I would also be honored if she called me her Prime. I was only trying to keep her from putting me on some kind of pedestal or something," Jeff added. "Please tell her I'm sorry and Diana and I will apologize in the morning."

"I'll tell her." Arlene looked up into Jeff's eyes. "Joyce is going to have company when she goes to bed in the morning."

Jeff leaned down to kiss her, but after a moment, she pulled back, putting a fingertip to his lips when she did so. "A little more of that and I'll never get back to Selina's suite. See you at breakfast."

-------

As Jeff's wives showered and got ready for bed, giggles, laughter and happy conversations abounded. When Jeff came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, Diana pulled him aside and encouraged him to sit. She had already showered a little earlier and now wore only a pair of bikini panties, her breasts jiggling as she moved. Plopping down in her husband's lap, she put an arm around his waist and turned so her right breast was pushed against his chest.

After their kiss broke, "The answer is yes," he teased, "whatever the question is. I know I'll give in sooner or later, anyway. Might as well cut out all the middle ground."

"Good," she giggled, "I'll tell the girls to set a date."

"Wha ... Now wait a minute, Baby..."

"You said the answer was yes. Are you going back on your word?"

"You know I can't think with those pushed against my chest," he teased, gently squeezing a breast. That, in turn, caused a sigh and her nipples to swell. She moved back a little as he leaned forward to nurse a soon-dripping pap. "Crap, let's go to bed," he said, laughing. "I'm going to get a crick in my neck trying to do that with you sitting on my lap."

"Wait, Hon. If we get in bed, you'll have your tongue in my pussy, or that fabulous cock of yours stuffed up me, and the next thing I know it will be morning. We need to talk."

Jeff sighed and leaned back in the chair, Diana again snuggled to him with her face buried against his neck. "Baby, they love you. They're all above the age of consent," she quietly said. "It's time they joined us in that big bed over there."

Jeff sighed, "Di, I've kept my pheromones in check when I've been with them..."

"Yeah, I'm sure you have, but I'm also sure you do other things to attract the opposite sex. You've hugged them, kissed them and licked their pussies, not to say anything about the mental thing you do. There isn't any going back for them now, and you know it. And all they've wanted is you from the very beginning, certainly well before you kissed their pussies."

"Di, I'm probably the first man they've been around who treated them decently. I don't know how many grown men there were working at the orphanage — if any. But I would suspect there was little reason for the girls to be singled out and treated with respect by any of those assholes there. Moving them to a foster home was just a setup for their 'kidnapping.' Now they have everything they could possibly want..."

"Except for the one thing they want more than anything else in the world," Diana injected. "Namely our husband. I have discussed this with all your wives, also with Susan and Kayla since they will shortly be your wives, too. We've all agreed that your marrying the girls is overdue. Time to suck it up, Big Boy, and add them to our marriage. And ... you need to go talk with them, and I mean tonight."

"They're asleep," the Prime said. "I, uh, left them that way."

Diana grinned at him. "I didn't think you spent enough time with them tonight to put them all out."

Jeff cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable. "I ... uh, they're easily excitable. They were all holding onto me while I licked Nat. They all went out when she did. I just covered them with the sheet and left."

The couple sat quietly for a time, then, "Di, I think Little One felt their fears, frustrations, whatever, about Ingles raping them. She put their hymens back."

"Then they will feel like virgins on their wedding night. It couldn't be better. You know they want to do this together, don't you?"

Jeff kissed her forehead, then tweaked a swollen nipple, absently beginning to pull on it as they talked. "Yeah, they do everything together. I'm not surprised that they would want to get married the same way. Di, are you sure about this? They haven't known me long. What if after we've been married a while they realize they could have been dating guys their own age instead of being stuck with someone twice as old as they are?"

"Oh, hush Jeff," she said, touching her lips to his for a moment. "You know better than that. Now, we need to discuss some other things. The dress shop people are going to be here tomorrow. I called in the girls' measurements when I called in Mom's and Kayla's, so the girls' wedding dresses will be here tomorrow as well. Anything after Saturday will be fine with the rest of us. So I suspect they'll pick Sunday night."

Jeff didn't even bother to grump about Diana having already set up the girls' wedding. I hate leaving them every night. Now, they'll be with us. I've put their wedding off as long as I could. He put his mouth against his Queen's, nibbling on her lips, then licked them until she allowed his tongue entrance, the kiss quickly heating up. But Diana suddenly pulled back, her face already flushed and her nipples showing droplets of milk forming on them.

"Wait. Wait," she sighed out. "We still need to talk."

"Uhhh hmmm," he somewhat agreed as he nuzzled her neck.

"Uh ... Margaret tells me that she and Frank want to add Tina to their marriage soon. Then they're all going on the honeymoon that she and Frank have postponed."

Jeff continued to nuzzle her neck. "Yeah, Frank told me."

"Uh, why didn't you tell me..." she managed to get out before her voice trailed off as he blew in her ear, then nuzzled behind it.

Standing with her in his arms, he took her to the bed, gently laying her down. He slipped her panties off, then raised her up a little as Ann pushed a pillow under Diana's butt. Putting her legs on his shoulders, he kissed around her pussy, starting well away from her lower lips, but within a short period of time he was gently licking her slit with long, slow strokes of his tongue.

Melissa and Ann began to lick and tease Diana's nipples, her milk quickly coming down, thin streams of woman milk spraying out even when no one was touching her breasts in any way.

Her outer lips had parted, and Jeff teased the inner ones open with his tongue, then slipped two fingers inside her as he licked circles around her clit. Diana had been trying to hold her orgasms back, wanting to prolong the wonderful feeling the gentle teasing was giving her, but he suddenly sucked on her bud of pleasure, and the orgasms started. Her legs slammed against his head, but he was ready for them. He curved his fingers a little, then tapped them against the front of her pussy on each stroke, seeking her g-spot.

Diana sucked in a deep breath as both girls nursing her breasts covered their ears and sucked hard. The soundproofing in the bedroom was the only reason she wasn't heard at the other end of the Retreat.

HOSPITAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The assassin walked down the hall of the hospital. They finally got off their asses and put the money in the Cayman Islands account. This will be simple. The FBI is so big and the personnel so full of themselves they will never expect to be attacked in a hospital. Oh, they will play the game, make everyone walk through a metal detector, put their keys in the tray, make them back up and take off a forgotten watch, empty change from their pockets, all that bullshit. A game. A fucking game. After the pretty boys have done it a hundred times in just a few days, they will slack off — already have. Yeah, boredom has long since set in.

He had walked down the corridor once each day for the last two days, and had smiled and nodded at the two agents outside SICU with their oh-so-special-looking metal detector. He knew there would be at least one more agent in the room with Hanes. No matter; they wouldn't expect him. He would be in and out in a minute or less. He walked by the entrance to the unit, but the metal detector was gone. Good, he thought. They'll have him in a regular room somewhere. It will be much easier to take the agents out without a bunch of people around. All I have to do is walk the floors and look for the metal detector. Nobody ever notices me, anyway.

Having another thought, he stopped at a floor directory. Shortly, his eyes alighted on MED SURGE — 4th FLOOR. Excellent, he thought, they even provide a map for me. Logic would dictate he's on a surgery floor now. Nice for the newspaper to keep me informed of his improved condition. Now to stroll through and look for the metal detector.

On the fourth floor, he stepped off the elevator, glanced right, then turned left. One corner later, he saw the metal detector at the end of the hall. He had found Hanes; he could stop now, but that wasn't his way. Better to know all he could. Walking down the long hall with purpose, he nodded to the agents sitting by the metal detector, turned left and kept walking down the wing. Soon, he found a room, apparently empty with the door standing open. Strolling inside, he closed the door behind him. In the bathroom, he shut the door, took a leak, flushed, and sat down on the commode to kill some time. After relaxing for fifteen minutes to give the appearance of his having visited a patient, he went back out of the room, noting the freight elevator to his left at the end of the short hall. On the other end of the wing past the agents was an Exit sign that would surely open onto a stairway. Excellent. Two routes of escape.

He strolled back to the intersection, frowning, seeming to intently study a brochure he had found in the room — instructions for patients who had received back surgery. Apparently paying the agents no mind, he walked back toward the elevator he had come up on, laughing to himself. If the FBI had a camera in the hallway, and had it hooked up to their so-called fabulous facial recognition system, it would still do them no good. His face wouldn't show up in any of their databases, particularly the face he was wearing today. It had taken him over an hour to put on the very professional disguise he was wearing. Today, his face was much more round and cherub-looking than usual, his ears even different, his gait, and the way he carried his body were drastically changed from his own. Tomorrow, he would look more like himself, but no one would be wary of him. He was five foot nine, weighed one hundred and forty pounds, had a receding hairline, and looked as little like an assassin as anyone could ever imagine. No, no one would even think twice about him, one way or another. He could walk into a room where ten people would look straight at him, and none would recognize him in an hour. The downside was that women also didn't pay any attention to him. But they paid attention to his money. Money was a great aphrodisiac, but he never played in the states. This was where he conducted business. Pussy would come later when he was back home — well where his home was this year.

He stuffed the brochure back into his pocket; no use leaving prints anywhere. Quietly whistling through his teeth, he pressed the button with his knuckle and waited for the elevator. Visiting hours were almost over. Time to leave. Tomorrow, he would make headlines, and earn a whole lot of money at the same time.



-------

Chapter 117


THE RETREAT: LATE THURSDAY NIGHT

Arlene and Selina sat on Selina's bed, their backs propped against pillows as they played with Billy. Arlene slid her hand back and forth under the sheet as Billy pretended to stalk a terribly dangerous prey. He held his body and his head very close to the bed, occasionally lifting his head slightly to peek at his target, the tip of his tail twitching continuously. Then, he would jump as high as he could, coming down on Arlene's hand, tussling with it through the material.

"Ouch," the older girl said, swatting Billy's front feet. "Get those claws in, Big Boy. That smarts."

The kitten seemed to realize what she meant, because the next time he pounced, he did so without extended claws. "That little beggar is smart," Arlene said. "He knew what I meant when I swatted his feet." She had no sooner said it than the kitten pounced again with his claws extended, then sped to the foot of the bed attempting to escape.

Arlene reached out and caught him by his tail, which resulted in an indignant scream followed by intense hissing and spitting. Arlene picked him up with her hand under his chest and his legs dangling down as she held him just above her face. She rubbed her nose against his, then caught him by the loose skin behind his neck, holding him up. He instantly curled into a partial ball, and just hung there.

"Is that hurting him?" Selina worried.

"Nah. That's the way the momma cat carries her kittens. See how he instantly relaxed. I guess it is his instinct to submit to the mother cat, or something."

"I wish I had possessed that knowledge when I first attempted to bathe him. I am certain I would have received far fewer scratches."

Arlene giggled. "I don't know whether it will work during a bath or not, but generally, it will calm a kitten." She put Billy on her tummy, but realized that might well be a mistake when his little nose went up and he sniffed.

"Mmmeeeeooow," Billy cried pitifully as he sniffed again.

"Would you express some of your milk into Billy's dish? I would like to watch."

"And what did our Queen say when you asked her about watching me?" Arlene said, putting the kitten back on the bed and away from her breasts.

"I have not asked her yet."

"Then I can't."

"But it is a natural function of the female body. I don't understand why..."

"We've already talked about this. It is, indeed, a function of the female body, but it also has sexual connotations. Tomorrow, I will go with you to ask my mother. If she says it's sexual, then you're going to have to wait until you're older."

"But the kitten won't be a kitten then," Selina tried to reason.

"But I'll still have boobs and I will probably still have milk in them. And ... you might have boobs yourself by then."

"So it will be years before I can watch you do it," Selina grumped, more the six-year-old than the genius for the moment.

"It..."

Selina continued with a slight subject change. "How does it feel to have breasts? They move about when you walk, unless you are wearing a bra. What does it feel like? Can I see them? I can see their outline, obviously, through the material of your negligée, but I would like to see them unhindered."

"Selina, that would not be appropriate. I think we need to change the subject."

"But we were all nude together when we changed into our bathing suits."

"You've already used that argument," Arlene laughed. "But changing into bathing suits was then; this is now, and I feel uncomfortable with it. We need to talk about something else."

"When Doctor Boswell announced that my mother and father were coming here, everyone went to put on bras. As soon as they left, the bras were removed. It appears that as long as only family members are here, the women and girls do not wear bras, but if outsiders are here, bras are the norm."

"Our husband, as well as the other family men here, like to see us without bras, but we don't feel comfortable with outsiders seeing us that way. And ... our husbands are not comfortable with us doing that, either."

"So the movement of your breasts is a sexual thing?"

At Arlene's tentative nod, "Then why am I allowed to see all of you without bras under your clothes, but I cannot watch you express your milk?"

"Seliiiinnnaa," Arlene said, drawing out the word. "Give it up."

Selina, grinning, turned over to all fours and bounced up and down next to Arlene, watching Arlene's breasts jiggle under the negligée. Arlene reached for the child, tickling her. Selina giggled and tried to tickle Arlene back. "I will persist," the little genius stated as she wiggled away from Arlene. "I will continue until I am allowed to watch you express your milk."

"Yeah, but Momma spanked my butt when I was your age. I'll bet she still remembers how. I would be careful, if I were you."

"I am certain she does, indeed, remember how." Selina said, slightly mollified, but not really worried.

"If you think Mom won't spank you, you had better rethink that. And she has other ways that don't necessarily involve corporal punishment, but are equally obnoxious on the receiving end..." Arlene tried to change the subject. "So, tell me about Billy's bath"

Selina sat and crossed her legs under her, her face a study of conflicting emotions.

"Come on. Spill it. I know what bathing a cat is like."

"I had read that felines do not like water, but the article did not emphasize that fact sufficiently."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Arlene said, giggling.

Seeing the smile on Arlene's face, Selina decided to describe what had happened.

"Billy had an unpleasant odor about him. Conversely, my bubble bath has a very pleasant odor, and I was going to bathe, anyway. I prepared for Billy's bath by putting towels down on the bathroom floor to absorb any spilled water, plugged the hair drier in and placed it on the floor out of the way.

"I had drawn a bath, adding a considerable amount of bubble bath. I petted Billy and stepped into the tub with him. After I sat down, I gently lowered Billy toward the water while speaking to him and assuring him that it would be a pleasant experience. Upon reflection, I can only assume that Billy had never seen more water than was normally in his water dish, and thus was unlikely to recognize what was imminent. Although he appeared to be very tense, he exhibited no resistance until one of his back feet touched the water.

"I assumed that I was fully cognizant of a cat's reflexes, but I suppose I had never really experienced them during my short acquaintance with Billy. His reaction was ... instantaneous. I still do not fully understand how he escaped my grasp and exited the tub. I felt my forehead sting, and he was just ... gone. He had made a sound that I had never heard before — a sort of yowling screech. I found him in his kennel, and the door was closed. The lock had not engaged, but somehow the door had closed. Perhaps, he hit it in his panic as he entered the kennel, and the door closed behind him. He was sitting in the middle of the cage, growling, and licking his left rear leg. The leg was the only part of his body that was wet. How could a tiny kitten escape from being held in a tub of water and get only one leg wet? It is not possible."

"So what did you do?"

"I picked him up and returned to the tub. When we reached the bathroom, he immediately began to howl. I swaddled him in a small towel to prevent him scratching me, and submerged his body up to his neck. He hissed and growled, then suddenly went limp. He just looked at me with his ears flat against his head. I carefully unwrapped the towel and poured shampoo on him..."

"He let you do that?"

"Yes, he remained quite limp throughout his bath, although he did continue to growl."

"So that one time was the only problem he gave you?"

"Not precisely. I rinsed him with the spray wand, having only slight problems, exited the tub and towel dried him without incident. Then ... I turned the hair dryer on..."

"Oh, shit," Arlene laughed.

"I suddenly received several more scratches, but not all were deep enough to require a Band Aid. I found him hiding under my bed that time. It took several attempts before I could recapture him on that occasion, and he seemed to be determined to convince anyone within hearing that I was torturing him to death. I held all four of his legs together and returned to the hair dryer, but I had to release him for fear he would break his own legs. I had no idea a kitten could be that strong. I found him under the sheet on my bed that time."

"Did he fight to get away again?"

"No. He yowled, but he did not fight me at all. He submitted to being dried, but later, when I went back into the bathroom to retrieve the wet towels and return the dryer to its place, I found that he had obviously urinated on the dryer. I am certainly glad that I had unplugged it, otherwise he might have electrocuted himself."

"He peed on the dryer?" Arlene said, giggling. "He peed on it?"

"Yes. At least he is small, and the volume of urine was not considerable," Selina grumped. "It required several minutes to clean the dryer sufficiently, but it does not appear that any of the urine leaked inside it, or I would have had to dispose of it. The article I read did not mention a cat's disposition toward a dryer. If anything, it was worse than the water. Billy did not like the sound the dryer made, and he appeared to be even more afraid of the air ruffling his fur."

"So there won't be any more baths for Billy, huh?"

Selina seemed to start for a second. "Of course there will be. I think a schedule of every other day will suffice. I will restock with Band Aids first, of course, but I will eventually prevail. He will, in time, realize that fighting a bath is counterproductive."

Arlene just looked at her. Doubtless the little genius was determined, but then Arlene imagined that Billy was, also. Seeing the look on Selina's face, Arlene decided to refrain from teasing her.

A little later, Selina went to use the bathroom. Arlene got up and retrieved Billy's dish, pulled the negligée down enough to expose a breast and quickly expressed some milk into the dish; although, it was a struggle to keep Billy away as she did so. When she put the dish back in his kennel, the kitten jumped off the bed and ran into his cage. When Selina returned, Arlene, with her clothing now rearranged, was lying innocently in bed. Selina, hearing the lapping sounds Billy was making, stopped to stare, then stood with her hands on her hips.

Just as Selina opened her mouth to make an indignant comment, Arlene interrupted, "Don't start. I'm not going to do it in front of you unless Mother agrees to it, but Billy wanted the milk so badly, I did it for him. If you get mad at me, then Billy is the one who will 'suffer' by not getting what he wants."

Several expressions chased themselves across Selina's face, but logic won out. Finally, she just walked around and crawled back onto the bed. After pulling the sheet up, she turned on her side. "You may stay up as long as you like, but I intend to sleep now."

Arlene turned the lights down, then hugged Selina. "I'll ask Mom if you can watch. I'm beginning to think that what you want isn't sexual, after all."

"Thank you," Selina quietly said. "I do not wish to create difficulties, but I must again confess that my curiosity has frequently caused them, and the curiosity remains. Overall, my propensity to be inquisitive is generally a good thing, but there are occasional — negative effects," she finished, the embarrassment in her face evident.

Billy climbed the comforter to the foot of the bed. Purring, he crawled under the sheet and onto Selina as she turned onto her back so he could lie on her chest. He curled into a ball, contented, his tiny purr still audible as the girls drifted off to sleep.

-------

Jeff and his women had made love. Diana had awakened and lay waiting for her husband to finish with Caitlin, who was last tonight. As Diana snuggled her head onto his shoulder a little later, she quietly whispered into his ear, "I miss Arlene being with us."

"Me, too."

"Baby, have you thought about having Little One ... check out the kitten? Kittens are sometimes fragile. It would be a shame for him to get sick and die. I really like the little dude, and it would devastate Selina if anything happened to him. Do you suppose Little One could, you know, check him out or something? I'm sure he hasn't had his kitten shots or anything, and getting him to a vet to take care of that is something we need to put on our agenda. But..."

Jeff smiled at his wife. "She did that last night."

"What..."

"I woke up and knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so I sneaked into Selina's suite with Little One. If I'm reading the Healer correctly, she's fascinated with the cat. Billy was asleep on Selina's chest. Little One sort of curled up with him for thirty minutes or so. Afterward, she wanted to know about pets in general, and I guess, cats in particular. I tried to remember about them, and project those memories to her, but I probably left out a lot of stuff that I'll think about later. She assured me the kitten was healthy though, and seemed to imply that he would stay that way now that she had done her thing."

"Good," Diana said, snuggling her head more comfortably onto his shoulder, falling asleep within moments.

2:00 A.M., FRIDAY MORNING, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The hospital had started out as a much smaller building many years ago, but while it had grown and expanded, the area around it hadn't. Originally, the area had been mostly working class homes. With time, some small businesses moved in, with gas stations, a bar or two, etc., and the area for many blocks around eventually became a hodgepodge ranging from fast food restaurants that were doing a thriving business, to rundown garages, older homes and abandoned buildings. There were "shotgun" houses (houses usually consisting of three rooms all built in a line) and dilapidated apartment buildings to add to the mix.

The assassin drove a nondescript white van down the alley, pulling into the back yard of an abandoned shotgun house ten blocks from the hospital. Someone had long since shot out the street light at the end of the alley, so the van sat near the house concealed by darkness and the overgrown yard.

Getting out of the vehicle, he opened the back doors. The scooter he struggled out of the vehicle was one of those where the driver placed his feet down on a flat surface between the seat and the handlebars, instead of straddling it like a motorcycle. It was the cheapest, ugliest and most ridiculous-looking ride imaginable. With a good tailwind, top speed was about thirty-five miles per hour, and its motor sounded more like a pissed off bumblebee than anything else. No assassin in his right mind would ever consider riding one, and that was precisely why he had bought it. He locked the van, hoping it would remain unseen. Opening the tiny storage compartment on the scooter, he put his change of clothes in, then started the small machine and headed for the hospital.

Over the years, the hospital complex had expanded, seemingly without rhyme or reason. The conglomeration of buildings was all interconnected to become a maze that only hospital personnel seemed to understand, and this acted to the assassin's advantage, because the loading dock was tucked into the back of the maze of buildings. The architect had done his best to make the place look attractive, though, and part of that effort resulted in a row of hedges on either side of the back drive, next to the buildings. It created a perfect place to conceal the scooter for his escape later in the morning.

There was a security camera near the dock, but its focus was the dock itself, not the drive. The assassin pushed the scooter behind the row of hedges, then stepped back onto the drive to check if the scooter could be seen. The area was well lit, but the scooter seemed to be completely hidden. Oh, well. It won't have to be here long,  he thought.

The assassin's clothing was dirty — deliberately — but even so, the bright orange checkered sport coat several sizes too big for him stood out. Dilapidated jeans, worn out sneakers and a big floppy hat completed his ensemble. A patrol car rolled past as he walked down the street a few blocks from the hospital, but the cop who was driving barely glanced at him, despite, and perhaps even because of the absurdity of the outlandish jacket — the cop probably thought he was just another "crazy" out wandering the streets.

At the house, he backed the van out of the yard and into the alley, and then, after regaining the street, he headed to his cheap motel on the outskirts of the city. I'll get a couple more hours of sleep, then be at the hospital right after shift-change. I'll pop the FBI guy, then leave the van in the airport's long-term lot and be on my way while the FBI is still running in circles. Piece of cake.

3:40 A.M. FRIDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 25

Jeff was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when Arlene walked in dressed in winter running gear similar to his and carrying a pair of running shoes. "What in the world are you doing up? Uh..." But then he realized what she was wearing — and carrying.

"Selina helped me with my running shoes yesterday. All screwed up," she teased, holding the shoes so he could see the screws in their bottoms.

"Uh, Baby. It's cold as a witch's titty out there..."

"So? I used your running clothes as a guide. I have everything you have, and I want to run with my husband. Most of us run five miles every day on the treadmills, as you know. But that treadmill is boring. I want to try running with you — if you'll slow down for me, that is. I can maintain an eight minute pace for five miles on the treadmill. I don't know if I can do that on the road, but I want to try."

Jeff knew that security would not be pleased to have to bring his daughter home after five miles, but Arlene seemed to be reading his mind. "Security doesn't have to bring me back. I can ride with the guys for the rest of your run, unless ... you don't want me to," she finished, obviously teasing, her eyes sparkling.

Her implication was that he would be jealous of her riding with the men. He stopped to wonder if he was, but after reflection, decided that he wasn't. He knew damn well none of those men would ever touch her, no matter the circumstances, and his trust for his wives was total, but still...

Arlene, who had poured herself a cup of coffee, set it on the table and motioned for Jeff to slide his chair back. Straddling his legs, she sat facing him, a smirk on her face. "Want a little titty milk before we go for our run. I'm pretty full this morning since you didn't nurse me last night. I did give Billy a little for his dish, but my breasts would feel better if you relieved some pressure before we run."

After some unzipping and unsnapping, she pushed a swollen nipple against his mouth, her giggle turning into a sigh as he sucked strongly. A few minutes later, he had depleted most of her milk, but her eyes were now lidded, her need apparent. "We have time," she quietly said.

"If I do, you know that neither of us will run afterward, My Love."

The young Queen, sighed, hooked her bra back, then fastened her running gear. "I want you to bend me over this table and fuck my brains out, but I'm going to run with my husband this morning, instead." She picked up her now barely-warm coffee and drank it down.

Jeff stood, grabbed her, then kissed her deeply for a long time. "I love you," he quietly said after he turned a flushed Arlene loose.

"How do you do that?" she said, leaning against him.

"Your mouth has the same effect on me," he laughed, pointing to the bulge in his pants. "It's called love. Well, maybe there's a little sex involved, too," he teased as they turned to leave the kitchen. "My shoes are at the back door."

Sitting on a bench near the door a few minutes later, they donned their shoes and put on their running masks and gloves. "Don't overdo it, Sweetheart, and keep that mask over your mouth and nose. You don't need below zero air in your lungs, especially since you haven't run in weather like this before."

"I'll be fine," his daughter said as she stood, "unless I bust my ass," she laughed as she tentatively walked through the mudroom toward the back door, the shoes feeling odd, indeed.

"This is beautiful," Arlene said a few minutes later as she and Jeff jogged down the drive. "It's so quiet, and the security lights on the drive make it look like ... I don't know, maybe something we watched from a helmet vid from one of those strange planets."

The security team was waiting in their vehicles at the bottom of the driveway. "And who do we have with us this morning?" Lieutenant Mayfield said as he jogged up to them after getting out of one of the SUVs.

Arlene pulled her mask up. "Just me," she said, "for however long I last."

"Same here," Mayfield said as they started off together.

After a few minutes, Mayfield took a deep breath and asked Arlene, "So, how long have you been running?"

"I did a little at school back in Georgia before we came out here, and I've been running almost every day on the treadmill for the last couple of months. But this feels way, way different."

"I hate running on a treadmill," Jeff offered into the conversation, but neither of the other two responded, because they had both heard him gripe about treadmills before — many times.

Arlene managed a chuckle. "Treadmills aren't exactly my favorite machine, either, but if you're in Helen's class, you will put your all into PE, no matter what we're doing for the day. Running is at least five days a week with her, though, and we swim, too. I skipped running one day — never again. She told everyone I had volunteered to be the practice dummy for her martial arts class. They didn't cut me any slack. I was so sore the next day that it hurt to breathe."

About halfway through their five miles, Mayfield realized that Arlene was doing better than he was. She was chatting with Jeff as she ran, and other than one near fall when she put her foot down wrong on an icy place, she seemed to have no trouble maintaining their eight minute pace. Crap. How can a woman look so much more graceful than a man when she runs? I'm coming back out this afternoon for another run by myself. I'll get better or die. I'm just about certain this sixteen-year-old girl can trash my ass. I'll probably be too sore to run with the Colonel in the morning, but I'm going to improve my running, one way or the other.

At least she quit at five miles,  Mayfield thought later as he held the door open on one of the SUVs for Arlene to get in.

ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The assassin woke when his watch alarm went off. Soon, his morning ritual over, he chose a diner a few blocks away, bypassing the small restaurant he had eaten at last night. In keeping with his habit of being inconspicuous, he never ate at the same place twice while on a mission, as he referred to his killing endeavors.

"Two scrambled eggs, toast, ham and coffee," he told the waitress as he slid into one of the corner, two-person booths on one end of the diner. His back to the wall, he faced the door out of habit.

"Be right back with your coffee," she said, turning to leave.

He had not looked her directly in the eye, and would make sure he appeared to be interested in something else when she returned with his food. She was busy. If he didn't call attention to himself for some reason, she would not remember him if she saw him later today. Unassuming, he thought. Unassuming and ... lethal, he prided himself. The FBI doesn't even have cameras around the outside of that room, as far as I can tell. No real matter if they do. I'll be gone before they can react, and shortly, I won't look like the person who took out their agent, anyway.

After he had eaten, he left two dollars on the table, stopped at the register and paid for his food, politely said, "Thank you," and walked out.

Back at the motel, he meticulously wiped the room down with a chemical that would destroy any DNA evidence, even though he had been very careful about what he touched. He folded the plastic sheet he had slept on, and put it in a garbage bag. Wearing gloves, he ruffled the covers on the bed and wadded the spread up at the foot to make the room look normal. A mile away, he pulled the van to the curb near a deserted lot. Getting out with the trash bag containing the sheet, he knelt by his right rear tire as he glanced around. Satisfied that no one was near, he stuffed the small bag into the storm drain beside him, got back in the van and drove away. Should the FBI, through some unforeseen circumstance, discover the room he had spent the last two nights in, they would find no trace of him left behind — nothing.

Back in the van, he checked his watch, yet again. Dead on time, he thought, then grinned. Yeah, I like that. Dead on time.

A little later, he pulled into the overgrown yard of the shotgun house. After waiting a couple of minutes to see if he had been discovered or followed, he changed into the white outfit worn by the food service employees at the hospital, attaching the badge holder to the shirt of the uniform. The badge was designed to pull away on a small cord so the name tag itself could be swiped through a reader to open doors to areas the wearer was allowed into.

His badge had his picture on it and was just as poor a likeness as the rest of the badges at the hospital. There was no obvious difference in his and a real badge, but ... the magnetic code imprinted in a real badge was lacking from his. No matter,  he thought. I don't need a working badge to get where I'm going. Nope. I won't need that at all.



-------

Chapter 118

HOSPITAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA. EARLY FRIDAY MORNING

The assassin strolled out of the alley. Turning toward the hospital, he kept to side streets as much as he could. He worried that one of the people going to work at the hospital might stop and offer him a ride, if he stayed on the main thoroughfare. The chance was slim, but still there. I don't want anyone to wonder about me, or after the hit wonder about the guy they just gave a ride to,  he mused to himself. The Ghost needs to remain just that — The Ghost.

As he walked along feeling perfectly calm, his mind drifted to earlier times: Throughout school years, a bully had harassed him. The bastard had started in the first grade and never let up. The bully had taken one look at him and started calling him Peepers, because of the glasses he wore. The assassin had always been small for his age, the bully just the opposite. Senior year had been the worst of all. Girls loved that muscled-up, six feet, two inch idiot. Not only did he have a great physique, but the son-of-a-bitch was good-looking, too; at least the girls obviously thought so. It seemed that his main objective in life was to embarrass the small, plain-looking, bespectacled kid who couldn't defend himself. Twice the assassin had tried to fight the much bigger boy, once in the first grade, then again in the tenth grade, but the ass whipping with several girls watching each time, had taught him that resistance was futile. Instead, he bided his time, waiting — humiliated.

A couple months after graduation, the assassin finally got his chance. Well, "chance" wasn't the proper term since there was little real chance involved. He had stolen a scoped .22 caliber rifle from a farm a couple of counties over. After many hours of practice, he became an excellent shot with the rifle. A bit of researching and he was able to devise a silencer that would work for a shot or two. Subsonic .22 caliber rounds were easy to come by at a sporting goods store. From a hundred yards and beyond, the rifle was virtually silent.

There was a large lake some twenty miles from the city. On weekends in the summer, many people went there for boating, water skiing, swimming, picnicking, etc. It was also a great place to "chase pussy," as the bully referred to the purpose of his weekend outings.

The lake was part of a national forest with trees that came to within two hundred yards of the lake. There were many fire lanes cut through the timber area as well as several better-maintained gravel roads. When the bully drove by the assassin's house in his pickup, he gave his usual middle finger salute and yelled out the window, "Hey Peepers, you still look as dumb as you ever did." Laughing, the bully went on, but that day his insult triggered a plan the assassin had been perfecting for several weeks.

The assassin parked his pickup on a gravel road a quarter mile back in the woods. After walking down a fire lane, he stopped just inside the timberline, found a comfortable place and waited. This was not the first time the assassin had done this, but on this day, the bully finally came within striking distance of the assassin. The bully stood near the water, drinking a beer and talking to two girls. As he turned to throw his empty beer can into the water, the assassin centered the crosshairs on the bully's lower spine and squeezed off a round. The 40 grain bullet exited the barrel at 1080 feet per second, the rifle making only a "chuff" of noise as the small pebble sped away at just under the speed of sound.

The bully uttered a startled grunt and collapsed on his face.

"Had your last pussy," the assassin whispered as he watched the scene through his scope. "Nothing from your waist down will ever work again. Payback's a bitch, asshole," he quietly hissed as he put the rifle in its case and calmly walked back to his truck, thinking about the places he planned to forever hide each piece of the weapon in. No one, and certainly not the bully, suspected the wimp that the bully had successfully harassed for years.

Thus the assassin's career began. That had been years ago, but every time he started on a mission, he would remember. I really should go by and thank that fucker. Because of him, I'm now a rich man. Yeah, I might just do that one of these days; of course, I would have to kill him then, and I don't want to do that. Better to let the bastard suffer. Hmmm, maybe I'll just send him a get well card and sign it Peepers.

-------

Reports given, day shift took over from night shift. Relieved personnel streamed down the halls of the hospital and out the back toward the parking lot. Those nurses taking over hurried to begin patient assessments. Some doctors had already completed their morning rounds; others were still making theirs, writing orders, or talking to nurses. In short, the controlled chaos of a normal hospital morning was in progress.

The assassin had walked the ten blocks to the hospital, but entered via the front door of the building instead of the back entrance nearer the employee lot. He didn't want to mingle too closely with hospital personnel; someone might wonder about the new person with a Dietary (food services) badge. Once inside the main building, he walked down the hall adjacent to the cafeteria and headed for the door the staff used as they exited with patients' trays. His intention was to steal a food tray from one of the carts, but as he approached it, he paused. One of the dietary staff stood by a food trolley (a rolling rack of shelves the staff used to transport food trays to the patients) with a list in his hand. Tossing the clipboard onto the rack, he used his ID badge to reopen the side door to the cafeteria, returning to pick up a missing tray.

Ah, luck is on my side. This couldn't be better,  the assassin thought as he quickly covered the few steps remaining, then pushed the rack down the hall. Fifty feet farther on, he turned the corner toward the elevators.

Ten to one he'll think one of his friends is screwing with him. A couple minutes are all I'll need. Fucking FBI won't think a thing about someone in a white uniform bringing breakfast to their buddy.

All the hospital elevators were designed to be large enough to accommodate a patient's bed and the nurses to handle it. Visitors and hospital personnel were accustomed to seeing Dietary pushing racks of food trays, and the assassin's uniform and badge looked legitimate if anyone even noticed, which they didn't. Two visitors stepped onto the elevator with him. "Could you press four for me, please?" he politely asked the obese lady standing at the front of the elevator.

"Certainly," she said.

The assassin picked up the pad and pretended to check it. The elevator stopped on the second floor, accompanied by a chime and a mechanical voice that announced the floor for those who were sight impaired. The man got off. Shortly, they arrived at the fourth floor.

The woman stepped out and turned right, the assassin turned left, pushing the rack in front of him. At the corner, he turned right and glanced down the long hall. Only one agent by the metal detector. Bet the other one has gone after their breakfast. Predictable,  he thought with contempt. Boredom, my asshole friends. Boredom. It will get you killed.

He glanced down the hall at the room number on the VIP suite, then stopped near an empty patient room. Picking up one of the food trays, he took out his black magic marker, completely blotted out the room number on the tray, and in large letters wrote, "4116," which was the number on the VIP suite's door. Little things make the difference, he thought as he put the tray back on the rack, picked up another tray and went into the empty room, pretending to deliver it to a patient.

A couple of moments later, he walked back out, minus the tray, picked up his list and pretended to look at it, then started for the VIP suite.

As the assassin approached, the agent came to his feet. "Good morning."

"Morning," the assassin answered, apparently preoccupied as he pretended to search for the correct tray. Picking up the tray he had marked with the room number, he started around the metal detector instead of walking under the arch.

"Uh, Sir," Agent Stevens started to say as the assassin pushed the food tray out in front of him as if he were giving it to the agent. Stevens knew the metal detector would not respond to the Styrofoam trays and the plastic eating utensils, but he thought the food services person must be new. As Stevens raised his hand and started to tell the man to just go through the metal detector with the tray, the assassin pushed a stun gun he was holding under the tray into Steven's hand. Not just any stun gun, but this one was developed specially for the assassin. It emitted three million volts at a frequency that could be lethal under certain circumstances. There was a pop and the agent staggered back with a grunt. The assassin pushed the stunner into the agent's neck and triggered another short burst of current.

Steven's body convulsed, but he managed to fling a hand out trying to grasp the assassin. Pissed, the assassin triggered a long burst into the agent's neck. Stevens went down, his body trembling and convulsing.

The assassin stepped across the agent, pushed the door open and walked on into the small living room. Agent Armstrong came to his feet as the door opened. What the crap? Why didn't Stevens usher this guy in? Armstrong thought as the assassin smiled and kept coming, the tray of food with the correct room number obvious as he held the tray out in front of him. He looks legitimate, the room number is on the tray, but what's been scratched out there? Alarm bells went off in the agent's mind. His eyes. His face.

Armstrong's subconscious screamed at him that something was wrong, and he reached for his weapon without even thinking about it, starting to step back and turning, but the assassin took the step, closing on the agent. The Agent's Glock came out, the muzzle bumping the far right side of the assassin's belly just as he pushed the stunner into Armstrong and triggered a burst. As the jolt of high voltage electrical current hit the agent, his finger jerked the trigger sending a .40 caliber round through the assassin's side. The round exited near the assassin's back, then continued on through the microwave, the bullet's force almost depleted, to embed itself in the paneling of the wall.

The assassin felt a burning pain, but his mission was almost completed. His plans always included every possible scenario, even being wounded. Even if he had to give up and be hospitalized, there was a good chance he could escape if he kept his senses about him. His wound didn't feel as if it would be totally immobilizing.

He dropped the food tray, stuck the stun gun in his belt, stepped over the convulsing agent and continued on, opening the door and walking quickly into Hanes' room. Bobby, who had just taken over from her sister, was in the process of administering an antibiotic through Art's IV. As the assassin entered the room and drew his gun, Bobby experienced the most dreadful feeling that had ever possessed her.

"No!" she screamed, and without conscious thought, turned and threw herself on Agent Hanes as he struggled to raise his body off the bed. Her weight slammed him flat, as agony coursed through his veins from his fresh surgeries being violently jostled.

The assassin raised the silenced .22 caliber pistol. The pistol was so quiet that he had killed many times with guards just outside the room not even realizing what had happened until it was well past too late. Now, his cover was blown, of course, with the agent's .40 caliber round going off. Move you stupid bitch,  he thought as he brought the weapon up. Oh, well, plenty of rounds in the magazine for both of you.

-------

Just like a steel plate. Just like a plate. The weapon came up, the sights centered: "BamBam," the sounds almost stacked one on the other, beyond loud in the room.

Blood, brains and gore splattered on the wall. Sandra, dressed only in white bra and matching panties, sank to a sitting position and started to sob.

Bobby had screamed when the two rounds went off in the small room. She took a breath, expecting agony, but there was nothing. She snatched a look over her shoulder at the assassin, but he was sprawled on the floor, blood gushing from both sides of his head. She stumbled to her feet, unconsciously tousling her patient again just as he tried to get out from under her.

"Fuck," Hanes hissed out as he finally managed to struggle to a sitting position, pain almost blinding him.

-------

Grigsby had met the other agent in the cafeteria, and they had ridden the elevator up together. Just as they reached the corner, the VIP suite door in view at the end of the hall, they heard the first gunshot. Styrofoam breakfast trays from the cafeteria hit the floor. Both men drew their weapons and charged down the hallway scattering their food trays.

"FBI. Move!" Grigsby yelled to two startled nurses standing in the hallway.

The two nurses spun away just before the two men ran them down.

Two more gunshots echoed as Grigsby, managing to beat the other agent by a half-step, cleared Stevens' convulsing body and crashed into the room, Grigsby low, the other agent high, caution, safety and everything they had been taught now second to getting there in time to save Hanes.

As they stepped past Armstrong's twitching body and into the patient room, they came to a halt, momentarily confused. Bobby was kneeling, her arms around a sobbing and partially-dressed Sandra. "It's okay, Love. You stopped him. We're fine," Bobby kept repeating to her sobbing sister.

The assassin lay on the floor in a widening pool of thick blood that was obviously coming from the sides of his head. Hanes sat on the side of the bed, his right arm clamped hard across his body, cursing. "I want my fucking gun," he gasped out. "I could have shot the bastard if I had had my fucking gun."

Somehow it didn't seem like the appropriate time to caution Hanes about his language.

"Just like a plate," Sandra mumbled. "Just like a steel plate." Then she began to sob again.

"Check on Stevens," Grigsby said to Hager (the agent who had run down the hall with Grigsby). "He didn't look good."

"Yes, Sir."

The agent turned and hurried back out. Armstrong stumbled into Hanes' room, his coordination still off, and his speech barely recognizable. "Is everybody okay?" he mumbled out as he leaned against the wall barely able to stand, his body still twitching.

In front of the suite, Agent Hagar pushed the door open partway and yelled, "Sir! Stevens isn't breathing!"

Sandra's sobbing cut off as if a switch had been thrown. Bobby stood and sprinted toward the door with Sandra only two steps behind her, the Glock she had used left on the floor. Grigsby snatched up the weapon and slid it into his belt.

A few seconds later at the metal detector, Bobby took her house phone out of her pocket and dialed. Shortly over the speaker system, "CODE BLUE, 4116. CODE BLUE, 4116."

Within seconds, one of the floor nurses came running down the hall pushing a crash cart. Bobby was applying mouth to mouth while the partially nude Sandra was doing chest compressions and counting aloud. Grigsby, who had been kneeling beside the downed agent trying to help, felt hands on his shoulders. "Move please," someone said.

There were suddenly many people and a lot of activity around Stevens. Grigsby told the doctor that Stevens had been hit with a stun gun.

"Shockable rhythm," someone said. (v-fib)

"Charge."

"Charging."

"Everybody clear."

"CLEAR!"

Whap. The agent's body jerked.

There was a slight pause. "We have a rhythm," someone said, looking at the screen.

"Do we have a pulse with that?" the doctor asked. (Note: There can be an electrical rhythm on the screen although the heart itself is not actually beating. It is called PEA (Pulseless Electrical Activity.)

Bobby looked up a couple seconds later. "We have a strong pulse."

The doctor turned to the charge nurse. "Tell ER to get up here with a gurney."

"On the way," she said, having called for it before the doctor asked.

In minutes, Stevens was rolling toward ER.

Grigsby got the doctor's attention. "I have another man inside who was also hit with a stunner. He's conscious and walking around, well, stumbling around. He needs to be checked out, too."

In moments, grumbling and trying to tell everyone he was fine, agent Armstrong was in a wheel chair on his way to ER, too, accompanied by two nurses.

Whatley, the SAC came running up. "I was going to stop by on the way to the office when I heard you on the radio. Talk to me," he snapped at Grigsby.

"We had someone try for Agent Hanes. One of the nurses blew the assassin's brains all over the wall," Grigsby said, just to see the look on his boss's face.

"What? What nurse?"

"That one in bra and panties," Grigsby answered, deadpan.

While Whatley was processing that, Grigsby took his suit coat off and slipped it around Sandra's shoulders. Startled, she looked at him, then her face suddenly colored as she realized what she was wearing, or more correctly, what she wasn't wearing.

Grigsby took Whatley aside. "The one I just gave my coat to was doing compressions on Stevens while the other one was giving him mouth to mouth until the crash cart got here." Pointing, "After that, she used the ambu bag there. If Stevens comes out of this all right, we're going to have to kid him about missing the mouth to mouth from a pretty nurse."

Whatley broke a brief smile. "His wife might not see the humor in that. Was he conscious?"

"He seemed to be waking up a little as they left with him on the gurney. He was asking if everybody was okay. At least I think that was what he was trying to ask, but he seemed to be mostly out of it. I have an evidence team on the way. Apparently the nurse heard or saw part of what was happening, picked up Armstrong's weapon and put two rounds in some guy's head ... well, through his head would be more accurate, I guess. There's a silenced weapon lying on the floor by the body. I picked up Armstrong's weapon and I have it stuck in my belt. Like I said, it's apparently the weapon the nurse used to stop the assassin. I didn't have time to ask, because Hager yelled in that Stevens wasn't breathing," Grigsby finished as he and Whatley quickly walked back into the suite, then on into Hanes' room.

Sandra had preceded them, but had turned into the bedroom to get dressed. Bobby was back with Hanes when the two supervisors got there. Hanes was sitting on the side of the bed, refusing to lie down.

"I need to check you out. I may have caused some stitches to pull loose."

"You mean when you tried to take a bullet for me?" Hanes said. "What in the world came over you to pull a stunt like that?"

"Oh, hush," Bobby said, frustrated. "I just ... Uh, just lie back down and let's get you turned on your side. I need to check your kidney incisions and drains."

"They don't feel like they're bleeding. I'm fine," he continued to complain, but Bobby wasn't having any of it.

"Let's get you on your side," she said again as Hanes lay back, grunted, and turned for her.

"I need to talk to you, Sir," the young agent said, looking over his shoulder at Grigsby.

"Sure. My SAC is here with me. Do you remember him? You were pretty much out of it when he visited you."

"Yeah, vaguely. Good morning, Sir."

"Looks like you've started out with an exciting day," Whatley teased as he nodded to the dead assassin lying on the floor.

"Yeah, and I could have shot the bastard if I had had my weapon. I want my f... , uh, gun back. And don't you two give me any crap about not needing it in a hospital," he finished, as Bobby stifled a nervous giggle.

Grigsby locked eyes with his boss for a second, then stepped over to the other side of the bed, pulled his own weapon and a spare magazine and handed it to Hanes. "There's a round in the chamber. I guess your weapon is back in Denver where your undercover mission started. Keep mine for now. I'll get another one issued to you when I get back to the office. We'll swap out later."

Grigsby leaned over and took his backup out of his ankle holster, then put the smaller weapon in his belt since it didn't fit his holster properly.

"You okay, Son?" Whatley said.

"Yeah. Now I am," Hanes replied as he slipped the Glock and spare magazine beneath his pillow, his eyes growing heavy as the jolt of pain medicine began to take effect. "Tell Sandra to come back in here, please. I need to thank her for saving my life. For saving both our lives. That son-of-a-bitch had us lined up when she dropped him."

Sandra, now dressed in jeans and a pullover top, walked back into the room, carefully stepping around the blood, and handed Grigsby his coat. "Thank you. I guess I made a spectacle of myself out there. Sorry."

Grigsby smiled at her. "I don't think any of us would ever consider what you did as making a 'spectacle' of yourself."

Whatley spoke up. "For what it's worth, I'll send you two letters of commendation, and I'll copy them to your administrator."

"Thank you. It can't hurt," Sandra said.

"Come here," Hanes said. "I need to hug your neck." He caught Grigsby's eye, "Uh, Sir, could you guys give us a minute? And yeah, I know it's probably against policy to leave a dead body..."

Grigsby's expression apparently communicated because the SAC grinned and turned toward the living room. As the two walked out of the room, Grigsby looked back over his shoulder. "Make sure you don't track the blood around, Ladies, and of course, don't touch the gun. You only have a couple minutes, though. I just heard the evidence team go on-scene, so they'll be here shortly," he said, tapping his earpiece to indicate how he knew. When Grigsby and Whatley were gone, Hanes pulled Sandra down to him for a hug that hurt him, but right now he didn't care.

"You saved our lives," he very solemnly said as Bobby added her hug to the both of them.

Sandra stared for a second trying to find words. "I ... I didn't think. I just pretended his ... head was a plate at a match. I'll never forget his blood and brains splattering on the wall, but even more strongly, I'll always remember the feeling I had when I knew he was going to kill you two. I was desperately afraid I wouldn't fire in time." She nodded to the assassin's weapon lying near his body. "Seeing that gun pointed at you two was the most horrible thing I have ever felt." They held each other for a few minutes just quietly reassuring each other as Sandra got control of her emotions.

The evidence team came in. Sandra and Bobby moved to the living room. Whatley stepped back into Hanes room for a moment to talk with the evidence technicians. "People," he said, getting their attention. "I have never interfered before, have given you all the time you wanted at a crime scene, but I'm going to make an exception this time. I have a bad feeling about this. I want this finished quickly. If you forget something because of the hurry, I'll accept the blame for it. Agent Hanes can tell you exactly what happened in here if that will be of any help to get things done quickly. Let's move it."

There was a chorus of, "Yes, Sir," as the team looked at each other.

Soon, there were more FBI agents and several city police officers in the hallway outside the suite. Whatley went outside the door to give orders, and to also have the area cleared of people standing around trying to see what had happened.

-------

Back in the living room a few minutes later, Whatley and Grigsby stood talking when one of the evidence people stepped into the living room. "Uh, could I see you two in here for a minute?"

Whatley and Grigsby stood and followed the technician into Hanes' room. The man motioned to the body. "Look carefully at the entrance wounds."

Both men knelt by the body, heedful of the blood.

The technician continued. "It looks like one hole, but actually there are two, one just above the other, overlapping. There isn't any stippling or powder burns, so I suspect the nurse was standing at least ten feet away, probably just inside the doorway, or near it, anyway. That's the best pattern I've ever seen on a body. The exit is just one big hole approximately two inches in diameter." He pointed to the wall. "The bullet holes are only a couple of inches apart even on the wall there. One bullet appears to have been moving very slowly because it barely penetrated the paneling. The other bullet flattened itself against the concrete blocks that make up the main outside wall of the building, after the round went through the paneling and insulation. In other words, the second bullet was virtually traveling unobstructed through his head in the path created by the first bullet. I suspect that also means that the second bullet was fired so near in time to the first that his head moved very little from the first impact and from him beginning to fall. Are you sure a nurse did this?"

Grigsby spoke up. "She had agent Armstrong's weapon in her hand when I walked in. Well, a Glock, anyway, and he says he dropped his when this guy here on the floor stunned him. She left it on the floor when Hager yelled in here that Stevens wasn't breathing. The barrel was still warm when I picked it up and put it in the small of my back for safekeeping."

The agent in charge of the evidence staff heard his cue, and stepped up wordlessly holding out an open evidence bag into which Grigsby dropped the Glock that Sandra had used.

"Sandra shot him," Hanes agreed from the bed.

"Well, you can bet your ass this guy didn't feel anything. She put his lights out in a hurry," the technician said as he turned to continue his investigation.

"I'm very uneasy about this," Whatley said to his second in command. "Let's step into the bedroom where we can speak privately."

The two men walked into the bedroom, Sandra and Bobby shooting them wondering glances from the living room as they did so. Whatley closed the door behind them as Grigsby turned to look at his boss. Whatley cleared his throat. "Ever have a feeling?"

"What kind of feeling?"

"Hell, I don't know. Maybe I'm just worried — maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe my subconscious has figured out something that my conscious mind hasn't unraveled yet. But ... I guess you were still in school at the time. Hell, it may have been grammar school for all I know. But anyway, some character set off a pipe bomb at a mall. Several people were injured and one was killed. Then when the paramedics, police and fire people got there — the second bomb went off."

"Yeah, I read about it at the academy."

"Did you recognize the guy that the nurse blew away?"

"No. I've never seen him before."

"Yeah. Neither have I, but ... I think I know who he is. Oh, not his name, well not his real name. But I read a book a while back. According to the author's theory a number of killings, everything from exotic poisonings to distance kills could have been done by one person. No one has ever really seen the assassin. Well, at least no one who actually remembered what he looked like, or lived to tell about it. But most of these assassinations that have happened over the years have never been solved and have one general theme regarding the assassin. He was someone so ordinary in appearance that no one actually noticed enough to fully describe who did the killings. On some occasions, he just walked up, put a silenced .22 against the victim's head and pulled the trigger three times. That's a silenced .22 lying on the floor in there. The guy lying there is the epitome of ordinary in every way: build, facial structure, height, everything. What if the guy that wrote the book on assassination is right? And ... what if the guy in there on the floor is that assassin, the one the author calls The Ghost?

"He's expensive. At least the guy who did all that research thinks he is, and considering some of the victims he killed, the author is probably right. Extrapolating from that to our situation here, someone spent a lot of money to get Agent Hanes killed. What if they intend to make doubly certain? What if there is a followup planned like that bombing? Think what a hand grenade would do right now. Even if it didn't get Hanes, it would kill a lot of police and FBI agents. Also, there are absolutely too many people around that we have little or no control over. All these nurses, technicians and doctors going and coming in the hall all the time, plus the ones who have to come into the suite..."

Whatley stopped for moment. "I want Hanes out of here."



-------

Chapter 119

ATLANTA, GEORGIA,  STILL EARLY FRIDAY MORNING

 ... Whatley stopped for a moment. "I want Hanes out of here."

Grigsby frowned. "Shit, Sir. He had two major surgeries less than forty-eight hours ago, plus major, and I do mean major, kidney surgery a couple of days prior to that. He's on IV medications, and the guy can barely hobble the five steps to the bathroom even with two people helping him..."

" ... And if this was only the first line attempt? What about Moore on the way to tell Stevens' wife that her husband is in the emergency room after almost being killed? How many more spouses are we going to have to tell that their partner was injured — or worse — before this is over? These people are wealthy, and they're ruthless. And ... we have made some inroads into their organization lately, and there will be more to come because of Hanes. I have a feeling they're not going to just sit back and lick their wounds. We're interfering with the income of some very powerful people. They're going to retaliate. I just fucking know it."

Whatley took a breath, then, "Unless I've totally lost it, those two nurses and Hanes have something special going on between them. I seriously doubt that nurse would throw her body in the way of a bullet for any patient she's ever had — and that's not even mentioning what her sister did. At least those are two people whose loyalty is not in question. Hell, it is imperative that we protect them as well. The people who run this organization aren't going to be pleased when they find out a nurse blew their hired killer away. Ten to one they had to pay him in advance. They just threw that money up a wild hog's ass and hollered sooey, or whatever the hell you say to a hog."

Whatley hesitated for a moment, then, "I want Hanes moved out of here, and I want it done immediately. The nurses have agreed to let us use their house, and the administrator said he would make things work for the nurses. If he reneges, I'll see to it that they're employed elsewhere when this is over. Fuck, maybe they might decide they want to be FBI agents, for that matter. Whatever; I'll take care of it. We have a doctor available through the agency, if it becomes necessary. We'll solve the rest of the problems as they present themselves — or you will. Get it done."

"Yes, Sir."

Just as Grigsby started to turn away, Whatley continued, "I guess this is a piss-poor time to say this, but you're the best ASAC I've ever had. I'm going to push for your promotion. Just keep these people, and yourself, alive."

Grigsby was at a loss for words. "Uh, thank you, Sir." After a moment of furious thought, "Sir, there's a freight elevator just down the hall, and the elevator comes out on a loading dock. I think Hanes would be okay in a wheelchair to get him out of here, and for the ride to the nurses' house — with the nurses' help, of course. We can put him in an SUV. I can have him out of here in minutes. There will be problems with medications and equipment though..."

"I'll handle that through the administrator," Whatley said, "or through our own doctor. Go tell the nurses. Have them get Hanes ready ASAP. No, fuck ASAP. Make that right now."

Grigsby took two steps toward the door, then suddenly turned back to look at his boss. "Sir, what if we had had two fatalities here? None of the hospital's people have been in the suite. We're the only ones who know what happened. All that the hospital personnel on the floor know, and the police know, as far as that is concerned, is there have been three shots fired and two of our agents have been hit with a powerful stun gun. What if we rolled Hanes out on a gurney, covered in a sheet, or maybe have him in a body bag? We could leave the suite with two bodies. Then we could leak to the news media that Agent Hanes had been killed. He doesn't have a family, or anyone waiting for him out there, so we don't have to worry about that..."

"Or," Whatley said, expanding on Grigsby's theme. "I could call a news conference and very sorrowfully say that the assassin had been killed just after he fatally shot Agent Hanes. There were two reporters trying to talk to me when I entered the hospital. You can bet they're out there somewhere trying to get back here past all the city police and our people."

Whatley thought for a moment. "Okay, in regard to the body bags. Do it. Make a production of rolling Hanes' 'body' out. I'll take care of letting the locals (city police) know that Hanes was killed. You can bet they'll all come to attention when we go out with Hanes on a gurney. That will lend more credibility to things. Hero dies at hands of assassin. News at six. At worst, it will confuse the issue and make it more difficult for this organization to figure out where he is."

-------

Grigsby stepped into Hanes' room. A hard look at the agent in charge of the evidence team, a jerk of Grigsby's head and the agent followed Grigsby into the bedroom. Whatley was already outside with a long face to tell the bad news to the other agents and police. Grigsby turned to face the agent. "You have a gurney in your van don't you?"

"Sure."

"I'll get another one up here. I want the assassin's body in a body bag and away from this hospital. Hanes goes out in another body bag with a little more fanfare."

The agent was a far cry from being stupid. He blinked, figured out what was going on and said, "We can leave the zipper open a few inches so Hanes can breathe. Where do we go with him?"

"Down in the freight elevator just like you will with the assassin. The assassin will go in your vehicle, and Hanes will go in an SUV. The SAC is breaking the 'bad' news to everyone outside as we speak."

"Where do we get the second gurney?"

"I'll have the nurses call for one. Tell your people to pack up their equipment and go. Send someone after the body bags and your gurney. I want this done five minutes ago. Make damn sure your people know that. We're afraid we could get hit again."

"You're shitting me? With all those cops outside?"

"Most of them have gone back to their assignments, but Whatley tells me there are still two or three out there, plus our people. What would a grenade tossed down the hall do, huh? Better safe than sorry. Get it done."

"You've got it," the agent said as he hurried back into Hanes room.

Grigsby stuck his head in the living room and caught the nurses' eyes. "I need to see you two."

Bobby and Sandra looked at each other, then hurried after Grigsby.

"What's up?" Sandra asked when Grigsby had closed the door to the bedroom.

"We're getting Hanes out of here."

"But he's..." Bobby started.

"We're afraid of a second attempt on the heels of the first. It wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened. A delay now might mean Hanes' death, and maybe even yours as well. I need you to get a gurney up here right now. Hanes is going out in a body bag with the zipper partially open so he can breathe. That freight elevator isn't far away. We can open the bag more when he's on the elevator where no one can see him."

"Medications..." Sandra started.

" ... Will be taken care of. We need him out of here right now."

"I know where a gurney is," Bobby said.

Grigsby put a restraining hand on Bobby's arm as she started to hurry out. "One more thing. Can you two cry on demand?"

The two nurses looked at each other. "Some tears as you maneuver Agent Hanes' 'body' out might clinch this thing for us."

Sandra and Bobby looked at each other. "We can probably conjure up a tear or two." Bobby said.

"Good. Call the charge nurse and get her to send someone for that gurney. You stay with Hanes and get him ready ... Oh, and start conjuring."

-------

Two of the evidence team had left with the assassin's body. Whatley had just announced that agent Hanes had been killed a couple of seconds before the assassin had been shot dead. Whatley had also announced that he would have a news conference at FBI headquarters in two hours. There were still half a dozen agents outside the suite, plus two city police officers as Sandra and Bobby helped to get Art Hanes into the body bag and it zipped up except for a couple of inches just above his head.

-------

Waiting for the nurses to get Hanes ready, Whatley and Grigsby were stationed in the hallway about fifty feet from the door, well past the other agents and police. Grigsby looked down the hall and frowned. "I've never seen one of those guys in here before," he said, nodding to a man dressed in white coveralls emblazoned with the red lettering of a well-known extermination company. He was pulling a small cart bearing a squat cylinder also marked with the company's name and logo.

The two agents glanced at each other and started in the exterminator's direction. Just before they reached him, the charge nurse for the floor stepped out of a room almost in the exterminator's path. With what appeared to be a double take, she looked hard at the man.

The man smiled disarmingly and remarked. "We didn't get through last night, and I'm supposed to finish up the rooms we missed."

The charge nurse frowned. "Since when did we start using your company? No one has told me anything about it. We use our own personnel — have for the last twenty years to my personal knowledge. You can not just come in here..."

Grigsby and Whatley had reached the nurse and the exterminator. "FBI," Whatley said, but the rest of his sentence was cut off as Whatley realized that Grigsby was drawing his weapon and the exterminator was raising his spray wand. Grigsby's backup .40 caliber Glock went off three feet from the "exterminator's" face. A black hole appeared on the bridge of his nose and he collapsed onto his back.

Whatley grabbed for the spray wand as Grigsby fired, managing to get his hand under the lever that the exterminator was in the process of squeezing. The nurse grabbed her ears and screamed. Whatley went to his knees to hang onto the wand as the exterminator's right leg kicked hard twice, then his body was still, a gush of blood draining across his right eye and running down his cheek to puddle on the shiny tile floor. There was suddenly a strong smell of urine.

"What the fuck?" Whatley got out. I hope you..."

The city police officers and the FBI agents started toward Grigsby and Whatley, but Grigsby waved them back.

"Give me a roll of adhesive tape, please," Grigsby quietly said to the shaking woman standing beside them. Then to Whatley, "Don't move your hand, Boss, or we might not go home tonight. That's lethal poison gas, not insecticide."

"How did you know..."

"Have you ever seen an exterminator wearing a bullet proof vest?" Grigsby said, tapping a ridge on the exterminator's shirt just above his belt. When the nurse handed Grigsby a roll of adhesive tape, he pushed it under the lever so it could not be depressed. "Got another roll of tape?" he said to the charge nurse.

"Not with me, but I can have one in a minute," she said, as she turned to jog down the hall toward the nurses' station.

Shortly, she was back. Grigsby used the tape to secure the other roll of tape behind the spray wand's trigger. "You can let go now, Boss."

Grigsby moved to check out the small cart. "Look in his pouch on the handle there," he said, pointing. "That's a military issue gas mask." Grigsby reached over and pulled the pouch the rest of the way open. "Yep, the cylinder has nerve gas. These are atropine antidote injections for nerve gas. Ten to one pathology will find that he's already given himself a prophylactic injection because nerve gas is a contact as well as inhalant agent."

Then a moment later, "Look here," Grigsby said, opening the Velcro binding of another pouch hanging on the handle of the cart, exposing an ugly-looking machine pistol hidden there.

Whatley looked at his assistant. "How in the hell did you notice his vest? I can see the ridge the bottom of the vest causes under his shirt — now that I know to look for it, but..."

"His vest doesn't fit. I had one a while back that was a couple of inches too short. That one constantly rode up, looked weird and left a ridge of material just above my belt like his is doing. I learned to wear an extra tee shirt over it. I would pull my pants as high as I could, tighten my belt then push them down to stretch out the tee shirt and make the vest less noticeable. As soon as I saw that ridge, I recognized it. Also, the charge nurse wasn't buying his story. When he brought the wand up and pointed it toward you, I just pulled the trigger, hoping like hell that the bullet would go high if it exited his head. Luck, or the Good Lord was with me. The bullet stayed in his head. My backup has a slightly shorter barrel. Maybe the bullet wasn't traveling quite as fast, or maybe the bone in his forehead was stronger than the bone in the side of the assassins head."

Whatley chuckled, forcing himself not to overreact when he realized just how close he had come to death.

"He was going to kill us all," the charge nurse said, her hand clasped to her chest.

"Well, as many as he could, most probably," Whatley agreed.

Grigsby looked at his boss. "If it hadn't been for you, he would have succeeded."

"Me? You're the one who shot him."

"Yeah, but the possibility of there being two assassins had not occurred to me. I would be dead when he pushed that wand in and sprayed the suite. Dead just like everybody else in there, and no telling how many others throughout the hospital."

Whatley took a breath and forced himself to not shudder. "Let's get a HAZMAT team out here to take care of this. That wand scares the crap out of me. I'll handle this. You take care of the other thing we started."

Grigsby turned to go, but the SAC called his name, "Grigsby."

"Sir."

"Pick your personnel. Anybody you need; the ones you think are the best, just let me know and you'll have them."

"Yes, Sir," the ASAC said over his shoulder as he hurried off.

"This is getting to be a real monkey fuck," Whatley quietly said, muttering, he thought, to himself.

The charge nurse, now standing almost directly behind Whatley, chuckled. "We've had a few of those from time to time."

"Oh, shit," Whatley said. "I, uh..."

"I think he already did," the nurse said, smirking at the SAC's embarrassment as she nodded to the dead assassin. "How long is it going to be before you can get this ... thing out of my hallway? We'll have visitors coming in shortly. If I block them from visiting their sick family members, there will be complaints. If I let them come up with a body bleeding on the floor, there will be more complaints."

"Not long," Whatley assured her. "Not long at all."

"He stinks," she commented matter-of-factly, then walked off.

If a dead man lying in the hallway bothers her, it certainly doesn't show,  Whatley decided as he watched her leave.

Suddenly, the charge nurse spun around and walked back. "I heard that your man was killed. My condolences. You tried hard to protect him. If there is anything I can do, just let me know."

"Thank you Ma'am," Whatley said.

The nurse turned and walked back toward the nurses' station as Whatley began giving orders to his agents.

-------

Whatley's other assistant, just on the scene, came running up. Whatley turned to him. "You're in charge here. That's nerve gas in the canister there," the SAC said pointing. "I have a team on the way to take care of the gas. As soon as the HAZMAT team clears him, get the body out of here and this mess cleaned up. Hopefully they won't decide to evacuate the hospital. Obviously the canister isn't leaking or we would all be dead."

The assistant frowned. "This is going to be a nightmare when the media gets word of it."

"Absolutely. But, I have something to do, then I'll have a press conference, but I'll be on the radio, or phone, if you need me. We might just be able to get this mess out of the hospital without causing a panic — if we're lucky."

DENVER BRIDAL SHOP

There had been a final "conference" at the bridal shop when the van loading was complete. The owner had gotten her staff together for a cup of coffee shortly before they were scheduled to leave for Matthews' Mountain. Standing, she got her employees' attention. "Several of you haven't been to what the Matthews refer to as the Retreat. From what Mrs. Wainwright has told me, her husband, Frank, used to own the beautiful building that is our destination this morning.

"For those of you who are new and haven't been there, it sits on a large plateau near the top of a mountain. If you have a fear of heights, it would be advisable to just close your eyes as we start up their driveway. As all of you are aware, I have been even more particular than usual with these dresses. We have done our best, of course, just as we have for everything the Matthews have ordered during the last months. All of you that are new are here basically because of the Matthews and Wainwrights. I have had to triple my staff since the first day Mrs. Matthews walked into my shop.

"Suddenly I became the bridal shop for the wealthy and affluent. I suspect that most of this business was because the Matthews are friends with the Wainwrights. Many of my new customers have mentioned Mr. Wainwright, and some have said that he and his wife have recommended my shop. From what I can determine from the Internet, Mr. Wainwright is the owner of several very profitable businesses. A little while ago, we made Margaret's dress for her when she married Mr. Wainwright, but my business has boomed almost from the time we made the first dress for Diana. I'm told that the Wainwrights now also live at the Retreat. The bottom line is that my business has expanded so quickly because of references these people have given to friends, acquaintances and associates. We're going to live up to those expectations.

"If any of you have a problem with multiple wives for one man, you need to speak up now. I know little of their lifestyle, and it's none of my business, anyway. But we will treat these people with respect — whether we agree with their way of living or not."

One of the new employees shifted in her seat. "But how can this Matthews guy have so many wives? Oh, I've heard about those sheiks who have many wives or concubines — or whatever they're called — but I thought there were laws in the US so that a man could only have one wife. How does this Matthews guy get past that?"

The shop owner frowned at her employee. "Times are changing. There is even a TV show where some guy has four wives. He has problems with money and women who don't get along. But the point being that more and more women are attaching themselves to a man with a job. He's happy because of the additional sex, and the women generally have a better lifestyle than if they were trying to make it on their own. But if you have any problems with what we're going to see today, then you need to take the day off. I don't want anyone going with us that will in any way project non-approval of their lifestyle. And before any of you make a comment, I'll add this. These people have treated me, and the others who have been with me, with respect. They're nice people..."

"Plus Mr. Matthews is a hunk," one of the women said with a chuckle. "All he has to do is crook his finger at me and he could have another wife."

"Not going to happen," one of the other women said, laughing.

"Yeah, but he's still good for masturbation fantasies," the first said, giggling.

The shop owner looked back at the woman who made the comments about marriage laws, "Maybe you need to take the day off, Edna. These people aren't dumb. They'll pick up on your disapproval."

Edna sat up straight. "I didn't say I disapproved. I just asked how he managed to do it. Please, Ma'am. I need this job, and I love what I'm doing."

"Okay. Okay. But all of you remember, our only business on this trip is making these people happy with our dresses. How many wives Mr. Matthews, Mr. Henson, Mr. Madison or Mr. Wainwright have is no concern of ours. If those people want something, they get it. Mrs. Matthews' measurements are usually right on the money, and we seldom have more than very minor adjustments to make, but our dresses will fit perfectly before we walk out of their home — period."

"Yes, Ma'am," the women chorused.

THE RETREAT

"Two vans?" Jeff said as he watched the vehicles turn into the driveway.

Diana looked at her husband as they sat in the living room. "So?"

"Well, admittedly they're not big vans, but still..."

Diana got up from her seat and moved to sit in her husband's lap. "You don't take any chance of wrinkling wedding dresses, so she needs room, and she's probably bringing enough personnel and equipment with her to make sure she gets the fitting and any alterations needed done properly. Besides, she's bringing six wedding dresses, and to say the least, they're not cheap. But she and her people have done an excellent job so far, and I certainly expect it this time, also. Of course, all of our wedding dresses have basically been the same, so she's had quite a bit of practice," the Queen said with a giggle. Sobering she continued, "That way, none of us has a dress that is better than our sister-wives. And ... the ones of us who are already married to you have identical dresses, too — which she provided, of course. To say that we are her best customer would probably be a vast understatement, not only because we have bought a number of dresses, but we've given her business a boost in other ways. Frank and Margaret put out the word to their associates and friends as soon as Margaret saw the first wedding dress this lady made. That can't have hurt," she chuckled.

She smiled at her husband and lightly touched her lips to his, then with a slight frown. "I wish you would wear your tux..."

"No."

"But Jeff, it doesn't have tails. It's just..."

"And how much did my good suit cost that you just bought me?"

"Well, it was expensive, but..."

"Baby, look, I'm just me. The suit is fine. I don't want to act like..."

" ... A man who is marrying several more wives," Diana offered.

"Baby..."

"You're wearing that tux for us — your wives and soon-to-be wives — not for you. Please wear it for us."

"Ah, Baby..."

Diana, knowing that she had him on the defensive, moved in for the kill. Pushing her breasts against his chest the way he liked, she began to tenderly kiss him. After a little while, she teased his lips apart enough to touch her tongue tip to his. Projecting her love for him, she continued the kiss for a time. She felt a hard lump swell under her butt. "Thank you my darling," she said as she broke the kiss. "You won't regret it."

Standing, she leaned over and kissed him again. "Why don't you help get their equipment inside, then maybe work in your lab or check on your security people, or something? Can't have you around here, or we'll never get those dresses fitted. Those women will be sewing over their fingers while they're trying to look at you. Melissa and Jennie will bring you your lunch..."

"No. Tell them to not bother. I need to spend some time with security, and the rest of my team is here to guard the weapon installation. Wouldn't hurt for me to spend some time with them before they go back to the base. I promised I would eat with them before they left, so I'll take care of that today."

-------

Since there were six women to be fitted this time, Diana had chosen one of the large conference rooms and had it outfitted for a fitting room. Mainly, this consisted of removing the large tables and adding several full-length mirrors, small stools for the soon-to-be wives to stand on so the seamstresses could better inspect hem length, etc., plus comfortable seating and extra lighting.

Jeff and Frank were waiting in the back with hand trucks to bring in the professional sewing machines in case something needed to be changed about the fit of a dress. Most of the equipment would not even be used, but for this customer, the lady who owned the dress shop came fully prepared.

Tina (Frank's soon-to-be new wife) had elected to have a slightly scaled back version of Margaret's wedding dress, although none of the men could ever have noticed the difference. Her insistence wasn't because she was trying to save Frank money, but rather, she felt that Margaret was her Queen and the differences in wedding dresses should reflect that. Margaret had tried to argue that the dresses should be identical, but eventually gave in to Tina's sensible insistence there should be at least some slight difference.

-------

Billy peeked around the door into the bathroom. He had definitely hated the bath, and he was deathly afraid of the hair dryer. His sharp little eyes focused on the evil creature as it hid on its shelf. He knew it slept unless his mistress did something to awaken it. But just in case, he cautiously crept into the bathroom so as to not disturb the Evil One's slumber. He had watched as his mistress did her business in the thing at the other end of the room. It made sounds and he had heard water rushing around inside it. A few minutes ago just before she left, he had seen his mistress do something to the thing, and the water made that noise again. It took three tries, but finally his tiny body scrambled onto the toilet seat. He carefully looked over the side at the water in the bottom of the bowl, fascinated.

He walked over and reached up for the shiny handle that his mistress touched to make the sound that fascinated him so much. Reaching up as high as he could, his paws still would not quite touch the shiny thing. He stopped to look around, his senses on high alert for any unusual sound or motion. All was quiet. He reached up again but still couldn't quite reach it.

Frustrated, he jumped, his front claws hanging onto the commode handle. The handle moved and he fell back to the toilet seat to the accompaniment of a whoosh of water rushing into the commode bowl. Scared out of his mind, the kitten leapt down and tore out of the bathroom. "Physst. Physst. Physst," he spat as he dashed through the door, rounded the corner with his claws scrabbling in the carpet to keep him from skidding, ran back to his cage, dashed inside and hunkered down on his bed. It was a close call, but he had outrun the creature in the commode. He would wait for the thing to go back to sleep, then try again.



-------

Chapter 120


HOSPITAL, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The HAZMAT team was on the scene. The patients along the hallway were being moved to other areas in the hospital. The assassin's body was gone. Finally Whatley thought it safe to move Hanes.

The nurses, red-faced and streaming tears, maneuvered the gurney bearing Agent Hanes' 'body' out of the suite and into the hallway. The city police and the agents in the hallway came to attention and solemnly watched as the gurney was pushed toward the freight elevator.

As soon as the elevator door closed, Bobby unzipped the body bag enough so Art's head was clear of the material, then smiled at him through her tears, "Okay?"

"Just hunky-dory," he said, through gritted teeth as he fought the pain.

"We know it hurts," Sandra answered, touching his face. "We snatched your pain meds out of the pump before we left, though. We'll get you back on them as soon as we get a chance."

Art acknowledged her, but lay with his teeth locked together enduring the pain caused by the jostling as he was put on the gurney and moved to the elevator.

(Note: The pain pump gives a metered small dose of pain medication determined by the doctor, and the pump can be set to respond to a button push by the patient. He/she cannot overdose by pushing the button too frequently, because the pump will not respond unless the proper time interval has occurred.)

Grigsby sniffed as Bobby came near and he caught the smell of cayenne pepper, "You..."

Bobby tried to laugh as she wiped her eyes with a tissue. "Yeah, you smelled it, and it's what you think it is. We couldn't conjure up enough tears, so we sprayed each other's eyes with this little can of pepper gas we keep with us. Whether we use the parking lot, or the parking deck, it's kind of scary going out there on dark, winter nights. The administration won't let us have a gun on the property, so we each bought a can of the gas. Wasn't hard to cry after a shot of that," she said, trying to giggle past her tears. "We went in the bathroom, stepped into the shower, pulled the curtain and gave each other the tiniest squirt in the face."

"Don't tell anybody," Sandra added, trying to laugh as the tears streamed down her cheeks, "but that stuff sets your skin and eyes on fire."

Grigsby and Whatley looked at each other, their faces devoid of expression, but both of them knew from personal experience during training just how much the gas hurt. They also knew better than to laugh at the nurses — but it wasn't easy.

The freight elevator had doors at either end. On the first floor, the front door opened into a back hallway, and the rear door opened onto the loading dock. When the elevator stopped, their conversation was interrupted as they opened the door to the dock. As soon as the nurses and Hanes were out, several agents surrounded them, the agents now carrying shotguns, and two other agents standing back with scoped rifles.

One of the agents caught Grigsby's attention. "Sir," he said, pointing. "we found a scooter hidden over there behind that row of hedges. There was a change of clothes with it."

"This was his escape route," Whatley mused aloud.

"Looks that way," Grigsby agreed.

As gently as they could, the agents got Hanes out of the body bag, off the dock and situated in an SUV that had darkened windows. His face was devoid of all expression, but it was still obvious that he was in pain.

Grigsby nodded to the body bag, and one of the agents quickly folded it up and put it in one of the SUVs. Grigsby shoved the gurney back into the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor. Even after removing one of their "dead," the FBI had been courteous enough to return the gurney.

"Think of anything else?" Grigsby asked his boss.

"A lot of things, but let's roll," Whatley said in response.

Grigsby got behind the wheel with Whatley riding shotgun — this time for real as he tucked a shotgun between his feet, the barrel pointed toward the floorboard. Whatley was barely aboard when Grigsby began to move, two other vehicles providing escort.

"This is going to take a while, Art," Grigsby said over his shoulder. "We're going to make sure we aren't followed before we head to Sandra and Bobby's home. I know you're hurting and the pain has to be highly exacerbated by the move, but we have no other choice at the moment."

"Just stay away from the potholes," Hanes tried to joke, but the sweat on his brow said more than his words could at the moment.

The two nurses were busy. "I robbed this from the pain pump," Sandra said as she and Bobby got the pain medicine and gave Art a small dose.

A few minutes later, "Oh, that feels better," the young agent said as he felt the medication take hold and the worst of his pain begin to subside.

Bobby tapped Grigsby on the shoulder. "Agent Grigsby, we're going to need more pain medicine later today, and the doctor has already told us he planned to continue the antibiotic and some of the other medications..."

Whatley turned in his seat to look back at the nurses. "I'm working on that right now," he said, indicating the phone he was holding. "We've decided to bring in one of our doctors and let the ones at the hospital continue to think that Agent Hanes was killed. I have personnel working to download the hospital doctor's files so that the new doctor will be up to speed on Agent Hanes.

"And before you ask, the administrator has given me his password to get into the system, but we're going deeper than that. I just received word from our people that there is evidence someone tried to break into the hospital system last night. They were trying to search the database for gunshot victims. They've apparently realized they can't necessarily find him by name, but the diagnosis of gunshot wounds will stand out — providing they can actually get to the records. You have a fairly decent security system in place and it locked them out when they tried the search, but they did get in to some degree. We're preparing to deal with that, also. This was before the attack this morning. We suspect that the first assassin simply walked the halls until he found the metal detector, then assumed it was Agent Hanes' room.

"It seems that someone has pulled out all the stops to get to Agent Hanes, and is engineering a multi-pronged attack. They sent a strong message using a weapon of mass destruction. I suspect they will try to confirm that he was really killed this morning. If we still had a doctor prescribing the same medication that he did under Agent Hanes' hospital alias, the bad guys would know Art wasn't killed. We need to break ties with the hospital completely. That's why I'm bringing in another doctor.

"Also, there's something else. We'll return files to their original condition when this is all over, but I have people working on the hospital's computer files as we speak — working to make sure you two never existed as far as hospital records are concerned. Both of you are on our payroll now; will be until this is over, and these people are arrested and convicted. After that, we'll see. It might be that the only option left will be our witness protection program. I'm sorry, but it looks like your having gone beyond the call of duty with your good hearts and good deeds, has come back to haunt you."

Bobby and Sandra looked at each other, but didn't say anything.

"We were overconfident," Whatley continued. "I apologize. We won't make that mistake again. I do promise you that this won't cost you anything financially, no matter what happens. Just get Agent Hanes well. Special Agent Grigsby and I will take care of the rest."

After a moment Whatley continued, "As soon as we get Agent Hanes situated at your home, I would like for you two to sit down and make a list of the equipment you need, and the medications you have been giving Agent Hanes. And of course, anything else that you feel would be pertinent for the new doctor to know."

"Sometimes doctors don't listen to nurses..." Bobby offered.

"This one will," Whatley said with assurance, "or we'll have another doctor, shortly." Whatley meant to back up that statement if need be. Without those two, we would be mourning a dead agent,  he thought with a shudder. And without this guy sitting beside me, I would be dead also, and no telling how many other people as well. Shit, I hate to lose him as my ASAC. That wife of his was just plain stupid. Yeah, he's married to his job, but he was loyal to her, too. He's told me he has never even thought of messing with another woman. I know he loved her; hell, it's obvious he still does. I need to find that bitch and have a sit-down with her. Just leaving a man with nothing but a note isn't the way to end a marriage, especially someone who's inherently a good guy like he is. Come to think of it, I've heard him talk of her often, and he was always bragging on her. Hell, he worshiped the ground she walked on. Yeah, I'm going to put someone on finding her. That lady and I are going to have a real talk. She'll probably still let the divorce go through, but I'm going to put my two bits worth in, anyway.

-------

Later, they arrived at the nurses' house after driving a route that would foil anyone following. In addition, they had stopped to scan their vehicles for bugs and trackers. Whatley spent most of the trip on the phone, setting things up and talking with his superiors.

Grigsby turned into the driveway and gentled the big SUV around to the back. Hanes was sitting slumped down in the seat with his head resting on Sandra's shoulder, mostly asleep from the pain medication, the exhaustion of recent events and the extended ride.

"Could you wait a few minutes before we get Art into the house?" Bobby asked. "I need to change Sandra's bed and get it ready for him."

Whatley eyed the young agent as he slept on Sandra's shoulder. "Sure. I don't see why not," he said as he looked around them at the large back yard with the big oak trees and the overgrown hedges bordering the property. "You can't even see your next door neighbor's house because of those hedges."

Bobby got out and hurried into the house as Sandra responded to the SAC. "The privet hedges are more like trees than hedges, I guess. They've apparently been allowed to grow wild for years before we bought the place. We're eventually going to cut them back and shape them into something a little more reasonable, but we haven't gotten around to it yet. It's going to be a big job, though."

"Works out fine right now," Whatley said. "Nothing on one side of you for a couple of blocks, and the hedges on three sides of the back yard to help separate you from your neighbors even more. Where does that alley, or road, or whatever it is, go?" he said, pointing to a somewhat overgrown alley angling off behind the yard.

"It comes out on another street a couple of blocks down. No one ever uses it. We always come in from the street side in front of the house."

Whatley looked at Grigsby. "You couldn't have done better if you had special-ordered this place. Well, at least as far as the outside is concerned. No one can approach without being seen, and it's private as can be. If we use that back alley, no one will even notice the extra traffic going in and out. We can make this work," he finished, a smile on his face for the first time in a while.

-------

Bobby was back shortly. Grigsby reached for Art's borrowed pistol. "Here, let me put that in my holster until we get you in bed. I'll make sure you get it back."

"I'm just glad you guys stopped and got me some pajamas when you came to check out the house yesterday. Otherwise, I would be doing this with my butt hanging out of that hospital gown," Art said, trying to chuckle, but cutting it off as a sharp pain from his kidney announced its displeasure with events.

"Wasn't me," Grigsby answered, taking a lot of Hanes' weight as he struggled from the SUV. "That was your nurses' idea. I was just the driver."

With Grigsby on one side and Whatley on the other, Hanes hobbled the few steps to the back porch, then sat down on it. "Damn, I'm weak," he said, his body trembling. "Needing help like this is embarrassing."

"You're doing fine, Son," Whatley said as the two agents hopped up on the low porch, positioning themselves on either side of Hanes. "You lived through a point blank gunfight where four other people died, not to even mention the assassins' attacks." Whatley glanced at Grigsby, "All right, on three. One. Two. Three."

Both men, with Art's help, got him standing as one of the other agents pulled up in his vehicle. "Hang on a sec," the driver said, getting out and rushing around to the back of the vehicle. "I have something that will help."

Shortly, the agent unfolded a collapsible wheelchair. "We didn't take one from the hospital because..." Grigsby started.

"Yeah," Hanes injected with a sigh, "it would be suspicious if the FBI wanted a wheelchair for a dead agent."

"Something like that," Grigsby chuckled.

The agent quickly brought the wheel chair to the porch. "My father-in-law used this before he passed on, so you can keep it as long as you need it."

"Thanks man," Art said as they eased him into the chair.

"I have the room ready. This way," Bobby told them as she held the door open.

A few minutes later the nurses had Hanes installed in Sandra's bed. Whatley, and two of the other agents had taken Bobby up on her offer to check out the house and were "exploring" as they called it, but in reality they were making certain the house was safe, and were making plans for defense. Several more were checking out the alley and the outside with Grigsby.

In the bedroom, "Sorry about the feminine decor," Sandra said. "You're the only man who has been in that bed."

Sandra realized what she had said and her face flushed. "I..."

"I'm flattered," Hanes said as he touched her hand.

"My bed either," Bobby felt compelled to say as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"And no, we're not lesbians," Sandra offered, unnecessarily, her face becoming redder. "We've just been too busy to ... Oh, crap, I keep digging myself in deeper," she quietly said, then all three of them laughed.

"I feel ... awkward taking your bed, Sandra..."

"Hush," the young nurse quietly replied. "I'll sleep with Bobby. We had to share a room and a bed as we grew up, and that bed wasn't as big as the kings we now have in both of our bedrooms. Our salaries are continuing and the FBI is renting our house, so we're doing fine on this. Besides, we've kinda gotten used to you, hmmm."

Bobby moved closer to touch Art's good shoulder. "Sandra and I have to make a list of the things we need for you. Just hit the ... uh. Crap, that's something that's going to be an irritant. You don't have a call light to summon us when you need us, and there's no use us sitting in here with you all the time. You need quiet so you can sleep and get better. For now, just yell out for us. One of us will always be close so we can hear you. We'll think of something a little more dignified shortly. Do you need anything else for right now?"

"Unh uh. I'm fine," Hanes said, obviously very sleepy.

"We'll check on you in a little while," Sandra said, tucking the sheet in, then the two sisters left, leaving the door open a crack in order to hear Hanes' call.

-------

When the ASAC came in through the kitchen door, Bobby and Sandra looked up from where they sat at the table working on their list of things they would need in order to care for Art. "Fresh coffee is in the pot," Sandra said, nodding toward the counter. "Cups are in the cabinet above the pot. We use Splenda, but there is sugar in the cabinet there, if you would rather have it. We use half-and-half in our coffee, and it's in the refrigerator, of course."

When Grigsby was seated with his coffee in front of him, Sandra looked up. "We need a hospital bed ASAP so we can lower or raise it to help Agent Hanes get in and out of bed when he needs to use the bathroom. We could certainly assist him with a bedpan, but he is ... very much set against ever using it again. Actually, that's a good thing, because from time to time he needs to be up to expedite his healing and regaining of his strength, anyway."

"There should be a hospital bed here in an hour or so. Two of the agents had to go home to change into casual clothes and get a pickup truck. We don't want anyone to know the FBI needs a hospital bed. That would raise a red flag to anyone wondering what happened to Hanes. So anyway, they're going to rent one and claim it's for a grandmother who has broken her hip. We're going to meet them a few blocks away and show them how to get in here by the back alley. We don't need the neighbors seeing a hospital bed coming in. The less activity they see here, the better."

The nurses looked at each other before Bobby said, "We don't have much food in the house — certainly not enough to feed everyone. I need to run to the grocery store..."

"No," Grigsby said, echoed by Whatley as he walked in. The two men looked at each other and Whatley nodded for Grigsby to go ahead. "We didn't hire the two of you to be our cooks. We'll take care of the food. We'll have it brought in from a restaurant for now. Might even get a cook in shortly. We've done this kind of thing before, obviously, so things will smooth out soon. This just caught us a little unprepared. You two are to take care of Hanes — period, and to say that you have proven yourselves is an understatement of the facts. Just let us know what you require and we'll take care of it. We need Agent Hanes to be able to tell us everything he did with that group of people. We've only managed a preliminary debriefing so far, but we need to spend the time to extract all the details he can remember from the undercover operation. Also, we need to bring in an artist to help identify some of the people he met but never learned their names."

THE RETREAT

The rescued girls, Nat, Nicki and Whitney had never been treated like this. Oh, everyone at the retreat had been wonderful to them since the day they had arrived here, had made them feel like part of the family, showered them with clothing, makeup, computers, a beautiful suite to live in, more food than they had ever seen before — just everything. And, of course, Jeff had held them and made love to them with his hands and mouth. They had dreamed about being his wives almost from the very beginning, but now, suddenly, it was going to become a reality. He already had nine wives, and was going to have two more Saturday night, but somehow the three girls weren't worried about that. They each just wanted to be one of his wives. Diana and the others had made sure they were loved and welcomed into the household. Could this actually be real? A short time ago they had just been orphans, then that horrible kidnapping. They had been raped and humiliated. Now, in a few short weeks, they were to be a true part of a wealthy family and would have Jeff for a husband. It was overwhelming.

When Jeff asked them if they wanted to marry him on Sunday night, all three of them could only cry as they mobbed him, kissing and hugging him, saying, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over, tears of joy pouring from their eyes. Diana, the Queen, had smiled and hugged them. Now, today, reality had set in. Only this reality was something out of a little girl's dream. Each bride-to-be had a seamstress to herself, who gave her exclusive attention, pulled and tugged at the dress, stood back and critically looked at it — made slight adjustments and eventually pronounced the dress perfect.

When all the dresses were finished, it was time for Diana's final inspection and approval. Susan, Kayla, Nat, Nicki and Whitney in turn each took their place in front of their Queen, slowly turning as Diana cast a critical eye on the dress. Margaret did the same for Tina. After Diana's and Margaret's pronouncement of "perfect," the dresses were shrouded back in their protective coverings and hung to await the weddings.

Diana insisted that the owner of the bridal shop and all her employees eat lunch before leaving. As they entered the dining room, "My husband sends his apologies because he will not be with us today." Now that was a real downer for the women, but lunch went smoothly, anyway. Soon the bridal/dress shop owner and her employees were on their way back to Denver — the owner with a fat check, and each of her employees with a very nice tip in her purse.

Edna, the employee with doubts about the Matthews' lifestyle, had a much-improved opinion of the Matthews family as she planned how she was going to spend her tip. She liked dealing with wealthy people — well, this group of wealthy people, anyway.

-------

Selina had stopped by her suite to check on Billy. Finding him sitting in his crate cleaning himself, even though she had left the cage open, she wondered why he wasn't out running around. He certainly had enough energy. "What have you been up to? There seems to be a somewhat guilty air about you. I did not anticipate discovering you sitting quietly in your kennel. Hmmm, since you are already in there, I suppose the proper thing to do would be to secure the entrance to prevent your creating mischief."

As Selina slid the small bolt across, then pushed the lever down to secure the bolt in place, she still wondered how he had gotten out of the cage yesterday. It wasn't like her to overlook things, and she was almost certain she had engaged the lock on the crate. This time there would be no question in that regard.

Standing, she turned to go when Billy looked up. "Meeooww," he quietly said.

"'Meeooww, ' yourself Little Dude. I shall return later."

As soon as Selina was gone, Billy was at his door with a paw stuck through the bars slapping at the locking mechanism. He still did not fully understand the lock, but he knew it had opened for him before. All it took was patience. He saw the handle move a little. Pulling his paw back through the bars, he put his face closer to stare at the lock. He stopped to think, trying to remember how his mistress moved the little round bar with the lever on it. Of course, he didn't know the proper name for the locking mechanism, or even if it had a name. He also didn't know that cats have very little reasoning ability, either, but he sat and stared at the lock, anyway. Little One couldn't make him a genius, but she could definitely enhance his abilities ... and those abilities were beginning to awaken.

He knew his mistress did something with her hand that made the lock stay in place. Remembering, he could see her in his mind as she slid the bar over, then pushed the little lever down that seemed to keep the bar from moving. He tried to push the lever the way his mistress did, but it wouldn't move. He hadn't yet realized that he should reverse the process.

He pushed his paw back through the bars again; it only took a while (about fifty slaps) before he saw the bar move a little. He stopped to inspect his efforts. The lever was now in a different position (level) but his little mind wasn't smart enough to realize that, yet. He went back to slapping at the sliding bar again. It moved yet again, and suddenly he realized that it would move much faster if he caught his claws around the bar. A half dozen slaps and pulls later, and the cage door was unlocked. He pushed it open and prissed out, his tail held high, proud of his accomplishment even if he didn't understand how to open the lock — yet, but his perseverance had paid off once again.

Creeping up on the bathroom door, he cautiously peered inside. The Evil One was still asleep on its high shelf. More confident this time, he ran and leapt onto the commode seat, and ... slid off into the bowl. He got two of his feet wet and banged his head on the bottom side of the seat as he frantically leapt back out. The water was cold. He stood on the seat, shaking first one wet foot then the other. The monster had set a trap for him, but he had survived.

After making a complete circuit of the commode seat, he jumped for the handle on the tank. When the commode flushed, he jumped down and ran out, then circled back to peek around the door. He pretended to be deathly afraid of the monster in the commode. It would require skill and perseverance to overcome the monster, and he must remember to keep a watchful eye out for the Evil One.

After rambling around the bedroom for a while, rapidly becoming bored, he thought about going back to his bed in the kennel for a nap, or maybe curling up on one of his mistress' pillows to sleep with her scent surrounding him, but decided to take another peek around the doorjamb to check out the bathroom first. You could never tell; the Evil One might be off his shelf. After assuring himself that the Evil One was still asleep, he streaked across the floor and jumped to the commode seat again. This time, he was more careful about his landing spot and did not slip in. He jumped for the handle, then tore out of the bathroom once more when the commode flushed.

Turning to look back inside one final time, having tired of that game, he noticed the roll of toilet paper by the commode. The paper holder was on a little alcove wall a couple of feet from the commode. He wondered if he could reach the pretty white stuff from the commode seat. Bounding back across the bathroom, he made the leap to the commode seat, now much more confident that he could outrun the monster in the toilet.

Having discovered the toilet paper, he was disappointed to realize that it was well out of his reach. But then again, he was a kitten, and kittens have super powers. He crouched into a ball, then sprang as hard as he could toward the roll. His aim was good and he landed atop the roll of toilet tissue, but that caused the roll to turn, dropping him. His kitten reflexes locked his claws in the soft paper as he fell.

Hhmmm, his little cat mind thought as he hit the floor, part of the white stuff came down with me. He caught the paper in his mouth and played with it, dancing back, unconsciously pulling it. The roll unwound a little and more of the white stuff came off. Billy stared at the roll for a moment, then backed up, still holding the tissue in his mouth. The roll fed him more paper.

He turned and ran toward the door, the stream of white stuff flapping over his shoulder behind him. He stopped at the door and looked at the white stuff following him. This was fun. He ran back into the bedroom and made a loop around his cage, still pulling the long streamer of toilet tissue from the bathroom. But as he rounded the second corner of the cage, the tissue broke. He spat out the tissue and looked at the short piece that had torn loose, then at the long piece as it went through the door into the bathroom.

Back to the bathroom he scampered. Getting back onto the commode seat, he jumped to the toilet tissue roll again, grabbed a mouthful and fell with it as the tissue roll turned, then bounded back to the bedroom. It was fun pulling a second streamer of the white stuff, well a looped second streamer since that end hadn't broken yet. Back to his cage he went. Four trips to the bathroom and the last of the white stuff ran off the roll.

Oh, well, if there was no more toilet tissue on the roll, he could play with what he had. This was much more fun than playing with the toys his mistress had given him. Grabbing a streamer, he climbed to the bed. When the streamer tore, he got another one and made a pass under the bed.

Thirty minutes later, he was tired and thirsty. There were streamers of the white stuff all over the bedroom, wound around furniture and anything else he could find to decorate. After eating some of the dry food that was kept out for him to snack on, he lapped his fill of water, then curled up on his mistress' pillow to take a much-deserved nap. He wondered if she would be proud of him for pulling all the white stuff off the roll. With several sections of white stuff still wound around him, he drifted off into kitten dreams, the epitome of innocence.

-------

Diana had subtly watched Hope as the dress shop people fitted Jeff's fiancées. Although Hope had laughed on occasion, and told the women and girls how pretty their dresses were, Diana thought that Hope might well be pretending. I know that Helen is counseling her, and I understand the need for patient confidentiality, but I wonder what Hope has told her. I wish I could help, somehow. I'm the Queen, and one of my charges is hurting. I know Hope is trying, because she has walked by or stood close to Jeff on several occasions, but I can tell she is forcing herself. She's terrified of men right now, and that both pisses me off that she is afraid of the good men who live here with us, and it also saddens me when I see her trying to act normal around them — particularly Jeff. How in the world could that piece of shit father of hers whore her out? She's a beautiful girl — well, she is when she's smiling, but that surely hasn't happened much while she's been here.

Diana found Hope on the north side of the building, sitting on a window seat staring out at the snow-covered mountain. "I brought you a coke," the Queen said as she handed the drink to Hope. "Mind if I sit with you while I drink mine?"

Hope shook her head, but said nothing.

Impulsively, Diana leaned over and hugged the girl to her, squeezing a little harder than usual for a hug. "You're safe. You will also continue to be safe with us forever. The men who live here are honorable. Dave, Frank, Bill or Jeff would die for you if need be. And you certainly should have no fear of Jesse, either. Heck, he's a deputy just like Joyce is. You've told us about some of the things that happened to you. We — any of us — will listen any time you want to talk."

Diana's expression changed for a moment before she continued, "There have been some bumps in my life, too. I made a terrible mistake just before we moved out here. My husband forgave me and I'm now the happiest woman in the world. None of us is perfect, but you didn't do anything wrong. All men are not like your father was. Try to give the guys a chance. We hurt for you, Baby. We all do. We want to help."

When Diana broke the hug, Hope cast her eyes downward, "I'm fine. I ... just remember, sometimes. I had it handled pretty well until that night in the motel. Daddy's brains splattered on me. His brains. And you know what's odd? Oh, it almost made me sick, and I was scared out of my mind that I was going to die any second, but there was a part of me that wanted to laugh that he was dead. I ... I couldn't hear for a little while. All those guns going off ... at first I thought I was deaf, but then I began to hear a few things besides the ringing in my ears. I just wanted to curl up and die. That good looking guy who came with them; the one the news said is an FBI agent? He saved me. Saved someone he didn't know, and he almost died for it. I'm so glad to hear that he's going to live. I ... I saw him crawl to the phone, but I just couldn't move. I wanted to help him, but my body wouldn't move. Oh, Diana, it was so..."

Diana put her arms back around Hope and held tightly as the girl broke into deep, racking sobs.



-------

Chapter 121

FRIDAY AFTERNOON, OCTOBER 25

Doctor Boswell hadn't tried to have class after the dress fitting, knowing everyone was too excited to get anything done, even those who weren't getting married. Susan and Kayla were excited, too, but Nat, Nicki and Whitney were beyond that. They couldn't sit still. They wanted to talk to Jeff, to be with him, but he had been at the abandoned ski lodge with the security people and his team all morning. He had called and talked to Diana shortly after the people from the dress shop had left, telling his Queen he was going to stay with security during the afternoon while learning to use the new defense system.

With permission from his wives-to-be, Jeff had invited his team to the weddings, then had gotten on the secure phone and invited the General and his wives as well. While he was at it, he had invited Lieutenant Mayfield and any of the security team who would be off duty. Since there would be two separate weddings, the entire security force would have a chance to attend at least one of the weddings. The weapon installation crew had already returned to the base.

Jeff had spent most of the afternoon taking part in exercises to familiarize security with the new defenses. By the time he had decided that he was reasonably proficient with the new systems, he had long since come to the conclusion that no one, absolutely no one,  could ever say the General had skimped on the installation. Matthews' Mountain was now well able to defend itself, and satellite imagery had shown that the defenses were totally invisible to the naked eye.

Jeff's women were sitting at the big kitchen table, laughing, teasing the five who were getting married, and just generally enjoying themselves as they all waited on Jeff's return before finalizing supper. "He's ... Whitney started to say, a puzzled expression momentarily crossing her face, then more strongly as Jeff's wives got up to finish supper. "He's coming. I can feel him."

Nat looked at Nicki. "Can you feel him like Whitney?"

Nicki shook her head, "Unh uh. I can tell where he is, kind of, when he's here in the building, but ... not when he's any farther away than that. Can you?"

"Unh uh."

"You will be able to soon," Diana offered as she hugged Nat, then Nicki. "After you have been around him more, it will come. I suspect that Whitney just managed to pick up the ability a little sooner."

"Does it have something to do with sex? Maybe his pheromones that you told us about?"

"Ummm. I don't think so. Arlene could feel him when she was eight, and he certainly didn't have anything to do with her sexually until well after we came out here. None of us know how it works; it just does, but I think it's a mental thing. He somehow makes a connection with us. You have already started. I imagine it won't be long until you can feel him no matter how far away he is."

A few minutes later, Nat and Nicki also felt Jeff as he walked in the back door of the Retreat. The three girls put down what they were doing and rushed out of the kitchen to meet him in the hallway. Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa just looked at each other and smiled — old married women now. But that relaxed manner quickly changed when Jeff walked into the kitchen. Each took their turn welcoming him with a kiss, then his older wives took their turns.

"Hey," he laughed, "I was only gone for a few hours, not that I'm complaining about my greeting, though," he quickly added.

"Too long, anyway," Diana said as she let him turn her away from him, but still pressed up against him as he took the few steps to his chair and quickly sat down.

He had hoped that Diana's body would conceal the bulge in his pants from Hope, but his wife had moved away a step too soon. He was almost certain Hope had seen, because she had blushed.

As Diana walked away, she looked back over her shoulder long enough to wink at him. Shit,  he thought, she moved too soon on purpose. She wanted Hope to see.

Jeff sat down and thought, I wonder why she did that. Seems like she would have wanted to hide my erection from Hope. Di knew I was using her body as a shield, yet she deliberately moved away too soon. It embarrassed Hope. Shit, I do not understand women, and I'm going to have five new wives by Sunday night. Di used to be jealous if I even looked at another woman. She was jealous, off and on, when she first had Arlene seduce me. Well, seduce isn't exactly the right word. But a little later, the jealousy seemed to suddenly stop.

{{{ She is a Queen. The Queen of a Prime. A Prime shows his status by the number and beauty of his wives. She is but doing her job. She should be complimented on her endeavors, however. }}}

Jeff knew that Little One didn't necessarily mean this instant, but he got up and walked over to Diana, waiting until she set the pot of squash down she had in her hand. As she turned to him with a questioning look on her face, he took her in his arms. Activity in the kitchen came to a halt as the women, sensing something, all turned to the couple.

"Thank you, my Queen."

"Uh, for what?" Diana said, smiling up at him.

"For being you. For being my Queen. For all you have done for me over the years. For all my wives. For what is going to happen Saturday and Sunday nights. For everything."

Diana's expression was inscrutable, "Are you saying you like your pussy brigade, hmmm?"

There was a titter of laughter from the women. In his peripheral vision, he could have sworn he saw Hope cover her mouth to keep from laughing aloud. "Di, I meant that as an honest compliment. I wasn't messing with you."

"Nor, I with you," she quietly said as she continued to smile up at him. Putting a hand behind his neck, she pulled him down as she reached up, sealing her mouth to his and tenderly kissing him. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Good, and ... I'm first tonight. Now go sit that pretty ass of yours down so we can get supper on the table."

"My ass is not pretty, " he mumbled as he went back to his chair.

Bill, Dave and Frank came in with their women. As they sat to eat, Jeff noticed Diana arranging it so that all five of his wives-to-be were seated together with Susan closest to him and Kayla next. Despite the fact he had nine wives already, he could feel the butterflies start as Susan took his hand and said, "Kayla and I won't be in your big bed tonight, of course, so after supper we won't see you until the wedding. She and I will be together, and you will be the topic of conversation, of course." Her eyes suddenly misted as her voice caught, "I'm so sorry for the way I treated you all those years. I was your mother-in-law; I couldn't be attracted to you. To a large degree, my being a bitch was to cover my feelings for you, I guess. I hope you can forgive me one of these days. I swear to you that I'll be the best wife I can be."

Jeff reached over and capped a hand behind her head, pulling her toward him to kiss her hard for a few seconds. "We've had this conversation before. The past is done and over with. I love you, you say you love me, and I believe that. Tomorrow night you and Kayla will be my wives. We won't speak of that part of our past again. Deal?"

Susan's misty eyes had changed to pouring tears by now. "I'll try ... Deal," she choked out.

Kayla hugged her, then Diana did also and kissed her on the mouth for a second. "Enough of this. This is a happy time."

THE NURSES' HOME, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Art, now ensconced in a new hospital bed, pressed the button to raise the head as his two pretty nurses came into the room with his dinner. Equipment had been arriving all afternoon until Sandra's bedroom looked much like the hospital room he had just left — only much bigger.

Bobby put the tray on the rolling table and situated it across his bed while Bobby fluffed his pillow, put it behind his back and made a final adjustment to position the bed so he could easily reach his food.

"Thank you, both of you. I would be dead now if it hadn't been for the two of you."

There was a prolonged, and embarrassing silence before Bobby suddenly took the top off his tray. "We haven't eaten yet, but we tasted some of the food, and it's darn good."

Sandra leaned over and kissed Art, putting everything she had into it. While Art was still feeling dazed, Bobby did the same thing. Art pulled his left leg back a little, raising his knee to help hide the tent in the sheet. The women saw, anyway, and smiled. They looked at each other, and with a silent agreement between them, Bobby continued, "We don't work for the hospital any longer, and Agent Grigsby has made it clear that his only concern is your security and whatever it takes to get you well..." She seemed to chop off what she had started to say, but both women blushed, anyway.

After a slight hesitation, "So, get well, Sweetheart," they said in unison, leading Art to suspect that they had practiced it. Then, seemingly embarrassed, they hurried out of the room, leaving Art to wonder about what Bobby had almost said.

-------

The SAC and ASAC were standing on the back porch looking out into the yard as a light rain dripped off the porch roof. The temperature had dropped into the low fifties (Fahrenheit) with the arrival of the rain, and their light suit coats felt good against the slight chill. Whatley sighed, "Stay with this for the next week or so, or longer if you think you need to be here. We've done everything we can to conceal Hanes' location, but don't count on that too strongly. We might have made a mistake using the nurses' house, but we don't have any other viable options right now. There is still a connection to the hospital that digging could uncover. If this outfit tosses around enough money, they could find out where he is. Don't let your guard down..." Whatley quickly waved his hand in a negative gesture, "Hell, I'm not talking about you, specifically. My ass would be dead now if it weren't for you. Just make sure our people here don't become complacent or overconfident. I'll get one of the other ASACs to take over your assignments while you're tied up here.

"I'm going to be up to my ass in brass, probably all the way to the Director, because of that last asshole who brought in nerve gas. This media circus will go on for days, fuck, maybe months, and if the higher echelon finds out Hanes survived, they will want to know where he is. If a politician smells this, he or she will want to know everything, and we might just as well go ahead and tell the news agencies where Hanes is and get it over with. The only way we're going to keep Hanes alive is to tell no one. I talked to the hospital director about keeping his mouth shut, but who knows if he will do that or not. I've already informed our people to expect a lie detector if someone finds out about this location. Unfortunately, that leaves my boss, and his boss."

Whatley thought for a bit as he stared into the rain. "Fuck them. I'm going to do the best I can, and hope they'll keep their mouths shut." Whatley stood thinking for a moment, "I'm going to tell the news people that Hanes' family wants a family only funeral, but there's going to have to be a funeral somewhere. Now all I have to do is find a body."

"Street person," Grigsby suggested.

"Yes. Someone destined to be buried by the state, county or some city. Someone who otherwise would have wound up in a pauper's grave. There's always at least one of those in most any morgue."

"We shouldn't get the body from the Atlanta area," Grigsby offered. "I could..."

"No ... you handle the problems here. I'll put someone else on the body and funeral. If I get caught withholding information from my boss, there's always retirement," he said with a macabre grin. Whatley looked at his watch. "Shit, I've already put off that news conference twice. I can't do it again. I've gotta run and blow a little smoke up the media's ass. No telling how many video conferences with the brass I'll have in the next few days. Somebody will have to have a meeting to discuss strategy or something — anything to keep me from getting my job done." Sighing, he finished with, "I guess that's what I have ASACs for."

As Whatley started to step off the porch, Grigsby stopped him. "How about getting someone to assign another weapon to Hanes, and have it delivered, please. I want my gun back."

"I can relate to that," Whatley said. "I'll get someone on it as soon as I get to headquarters." He stopped again. "How soon do you think it will be before Hanes can work with an artist?"

"I've already checked with the nurses on that. How about tomorrow afternoon? But, be aware, Bobby says an hour will be all Hanes can stand at this point. To understate, he's had a rough day."

"Yeah, he darned sure has, and so have the rest of us, but we're still alive, and I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep it that way."

With that, Whatley stepped down off the low porch and trotted through the rain to his vehicle.

I suspect the rest of us feel the same way,  Grigsby thought as he turned to go back inside. Now, I just need to make sure we do stay alive.

As the SAC left by the back alley, his mind gnawed at another problem he had not mentioned to Grigsby. I'm beginning to suspect I have a leak somewhere. Twice now, I've been almost certain Mitchell (Whatley's boss) knew things about my command almost before I did. Far too many of my people know about Hanes survival and current location. If the guy weren't so fucked up, I could get him someplace well away from here. But dammit, someone has to know. I'm paranoid. Hell, the only people I fully trust right now are Grigsby and those two nurses.

That surgeon said he put a large number of stitches inside Hanes' kidney. I worried on the drive over that he would start hemorrhaging internally, but the nurses say his drains look good despite all the jostling he received. I'm beginning to get that bad feeling again, though. Shit!

NEAR WINTER PARK, COLORADO

Fred, tired, was maneuvering the big RV along Hwy 40 at Berthford Pass, a few miles outside Winter Park. The road had been plowed out, but at more than eleven thousand feet, a thin snowpack persisted from a recent snow that the plow hadn't quite removed. The sheen of white reflecting back from the snow under the headlights stressed his tired eyes. Odd how the last few miles seem the hardest,  he thought as he eased around another hairpin turn and geared down to save the RV's brakes when he started their descent down the mountain. The women had all flatly refused to drive once they had left the Interstate and began to climb. I know damn well that Carla could do this, and probably Jessica, too. Hell, they've probably driven an eighteen wheeler on roads like this taking cattle, or horses to sales, or some other farm product to market. Maybe they see it as an honor to take our rig home, and they're giving that honor to me. I know I'll be happy to get back. Home. I haven't lived here long, but it does feel like home — more so now that I have Brenda with me again — well, physically with me again. She and I need some time alone. Maybe we could walk out in that pasture, find a good place, get on our knees and thank God for bringing her back to me.

A little later and well down the mountain, a deer bounded into the road in the headlights, skidded on a patch of ice and went down in front of them. As it scrambled to its feet, Fred gently tapped the brakes and guided the RV over enough to miss the animal as it scrambled away, Fred's heart thudding in his chest for a second because of the adrenalin surge. "Shit," he mumbled. "Nothing like driving this rig around for four thousand miles, then hitting a deer thirty miles from home."

"If it had been me driving, that deer would have been dead," Jessica said from the right seat.

Fred let out a sick laugh, "Trust me, if he had taken another half second to move, I wouldn't have missed him."

Audrey spoke up from their living room. "This is beautiful, even with what little I can see with the headlights. I want to see this mountain in daylight, but it's scaring the crap out of me, too. I've been to the smoky mountains, but there isn't this much sensation of height there. If it snows in the park, the Rangers block 441 and you don't get to see the mountains covered in snow, at least up close. But this is beautiful. I only wish I could see more."

"The state occasionally closes this road as well, but they usually have it plowed out in a few hours. There are a lot of miles to put down sand or chemicals, so the mountain can still be treacherous, even if they stay current with the plowing. Speaking of heights, wait until you see Jeff and Diana's driveway," Carla laughed. "I was raised here, and that thing still scares the crap out of me."

"I've heard so much about these people, it feels like I know them."

"You'll love every one of them," Carla assured her.

"We would have been home way before now if I hadn't insisted on seeing the meteor crater," Jessica worried. (Meteor Crater, Arizona)

"Oh, bull," Fred said, "we all enjoyed that. Besides, we'll be home in time to get a good night's sleep, and we have all day tomorrow to recover from the trip before the wedding."

"I worry about meeting all these people," Audrey said. "I've never really been around rich people before..."

"Well, I guess I haven't been around wealth much in my life, either," Carla laughed. "And I've never had much money. Jessica and I were in the process of losing our farm when Jeff and Diana stepped in. I haven't gotten over that, and I guess I never will. But if you're worried about how to act around them, you need to spend your time worrying about something else. Diana and the others still cook and clean just like we do. They also tease and kid around, just like we do.

"They stayed with us and helped with the harvest, and I mean really helped. They got just as dirty as we did, put in just as many hours, too, and were just as exhausted at the end of the day. You'll be welcomed as family, and you will know they aren't putting on an act." Carla grinned conspiratorially, "And besides, you'll get to wear that pretty outfit you bought."

"Well, there is that," Audrey laughed.

As they rolled into Winter Park, they met a pickup with a red snowplow on the front. Shortly, they passed The Kitchen where there were two more four-wheel drive pickups with plows. "Are snowplows the norm out here?" Audrey said.

"They are if you live off the main highway in any of these mountains," Jessica said. "If you wait for the county to plow the road out, you'll be waiting a long time. Besides, I kinda like to do it. Oh, the county and state will get the main roads plowed out fairly quickly, but they get to the side roads when they can, I guess. When the people who live out in the country come into Winter Park, they come in a vehicle that will get them home."

Later, Fred turned off onto their driveway, but when he reached the fork he didn't turn to the right, which was the front driveway over the hill. Instead, he continued straight onto the back drive. The women were talking, and with the snowpack left by the plow, it wasn't obvious that what used to be a smooth gravel road had been paved, at least not to anyone sitting in the living room and looking out the side windows of the RV.

Jessica, sitting in the right front seat, suddenly sat up straight. As she opened her mouth to say something, Fred tapped his fingers on the dash to get her attention, then put a finger in front of his lips in a gesture to be silent.

Continuing with the conversation, seeking to distract them, Fred raised his voice so it would carry to the living room and said, "Audrey, if I had turned right and gone over the hill there, we could have gone in the front way. But with the snow, I didn't want to chance the hill. Looks like someone has plowed our drive though," he finished.

"So who plowed it out? Jeff?"

"Who knows? It could have been Jeff, Dave or one of the neighbors," Carla answered. "All our neighbors knew we would be gone a couple of weeks. Here in the country we always help out when someone can't plow for some reason or another. You should have seen all the help we got with our harvest. We'll return the favor when the chance arises."

"Don't forget, it could have been Evie," Fred supplied, still trying to distract them. "Remember how she drove that big front end loader?" He slowed more as they came through a wooded section not far from their house.

"I can't wait to see this in the daytime," Audrey said.

"It's a big place," Fred commented.

"Especially, now that Jeff bought all that other land," Carla offered. "I need to get my butt in gear and restock our herd."

Fred chuckled. "Working already and we haven't even gotten to the house yet."

"Is that your house?" Audrey said as they came out of the trees to see the lighted house ahead of them.

"Yeah, that's it..." Fred started to say.

"My goodness, the lights are all on and ... But they look different somehow," Carla said as she walked from the living room to stand and look over Fred's shoulder, bracing her hands on the back of his seat. "There are way too many lights. Look, the whole house is lit up, inside and outside. Something has happened."

Fred had slowed to a crawl, as he basked in the surprise for Carla and Jessica that Jeff and Diana had provided through Dave, Evie and their crews. Jeff had sworn him to secrecy, and asked him to delay their return until Dave and Evie could finish the remodeling.

With the snow and Fred's distractions, Carla hadn't noticed that the long driveway had been paved, but as they neared the house, she let out a yelp. "This should be gravel. We're on pavement. Look there," she said pointing to an area that was free of snowpack.

"Well, well," Fred said, playing it down. "Looks like Dave must have had some asphalt left over from another job."

Carla squeezed his shoulder, "Bull. No way." Then leaning down to better see through the windshield, "Did you know about this?"

"Well, I..."

Then they were close enough to see. Jessica's voice began to rise. "A circle drive. They built us a pretty circle drive in the front, Mom."

Carla touched Fred's shoulder, and repeated. "Did you know about this, Baby? The lights look different — more of them, and the windows they're shining out of look different, too, even from this distance."

Fred didn't answer, but his grin grew bigger. Shortly, he eased the rig to a halt in front of the house. Jessica got to her feet, but then looked hard out the window again. "Mom, the porch doesn't ... Mom, look at the door!" (Their old door had been replaced with something that could only be described as an entranceway. The ornate, double doors were adorned with an arch of glass above them to form an entrance that was truly impressive.)

Jessica opened the door, and was out and headed up the new walkway to the porch without bothering to first put her coat on. The walkway and porch were free of snow and ice, having been recently shoveled and blown clear.

"Wow, that wind is cold," Audrey said, suddenly nervous about her new home as she zipped up her jacket and stepped out of the RV behind Carla. "This southern girl is going to freeze her butt off out here."

Fred put his arm around Brenda and Audrey as they followed Carla up the walkway.

"Mom," Jessica called from the porch, "everything is new! Someone has redone our porch. Everything is new," she repeated, stating the obvious. "I don't guess my key will fit..." but it did, since Dave had rekeyed the locks for that reason.

As Jessica opened the door, Carla pushed past to take a few steps down the new entranceway and into the living room before she gasped and slowly settled to her knees. "Oh, my goodness," she said over and over. "They didn't do that. Oh, my goodness!"

"This living room is beautiful. Look at the big windows. Look at the furniture. It's almost as if..." Jessica's voice stumbled to a halt.

"Don't you recognize it, Baby?" Carla said, barely above a whisper.

"'Recognize it?' But..." Then she remembered. "It's ... Oh, Mom, they didn't."

Jessica suddenly wheeled and ran out of the living room, then down the hall, and from the sound of it, opening doors and then hastily going to the next room. "Oh, Mom!" Jessica called out. "You're right. They did it. Everything!" she shouted.

"Did what?" Audrey and Brenda said at the same time as they stood by Fred wondering what was going on.

Carla still kneeling, tears of joy pouring from her eyes, said, "Sam, Jessica and I had drawn up elaborate plans to redo our home. We added to the drawing over many years. It was our dream. We knew we would never have the money to do it. It was just a fun fantasy, but we worked on those plans, off and on, over the years. I think we started when Jessica was in the first grade. It was our fantasy home. Oh, my gosh. No telling how much money they have spent on this. Oh, I wish Sam could see this."

Then she realized what she had said. "I'm sorry, Baby," she rushed out as she stood and hugged Fred. "I didn't..."

"Hush, Hon. I'm not jealous of Sam. And remember, Jessica would not be here if it were not for him. He's a part of your life, and always will be. Now let's go see the rest of the house."

"You knew, didn't you?" Carla said, looking up into her mate's face.

"Yeah, part of it. I knew they were remodeling your house, but I didn't know anything about the furniture, and really didn't know how extensive the remodeling was going to be. Jeff had to tell me the basics because they were afraid we would come back before Dave and Evie could finish."

"Mom," Jessica screamed from the other end of the house. "Come quick. Oh, my gosh, you'll never believe this!"

They all hurried down the hall to find Jessica standing in the middle of a very large bedroom staring at a monster-sized bed. "Where did they find this?" Jessica said, a grin splitting her face from ear to ear. "We will never have to sleep separately again. Never. Well, not until we go for another trip in the RV," she laughed.

"Kitchen," Carla suddenly said. "I've got to see the kitchen, and I just glanced into the dining room as we rushed past. You don't suppose..."

They had.

-------

Almost in a daze, Carla walked through her dream kitchen, absently sliding her hand along the perfect granite counter tops; stood leaning against them as she watched her daughter open the huge stainless steel, twin-door refrigerator, only to step back and say, "Mom, it's stocked. We cleaned out everything that could possibly spoil before we left. Now the new refrigerator is stocked full with everything you could imagine."

Suddenly, Jessica spun to hurry into the big pantry where she raised the lids of two large chest type freezers. "These too," she yelled out to her mother.

Fred, catching Carla's eye, flipped a switch near the back door. The outside toward the back yard and new barn lit up. There was a paved walkway from the house to the barn, easily wide enough for an ATV. The walkway branched off to go to the new garage for their RV, pickup, Carla's car and PT Cruiser. "What..." Fred started as he realized there was a new building and what it was. "They've built a garage for the RV. A big garage for all our vehicles, it looks like. Jeff didn't tell me about that."

Fred would later find that the RV garage had a built-in pressure washer similar to a car wash. They had washed the RV twice at a truck wash, but Fred had worried how he would keep the big rig clean once they had returned home.

Jessica started out the back, "I'm going to visit with Abby and Molly (Carla's and Jessica's horses) and make sure they're okay."

"Wait," Fred said as he hurried back to the entrance. A moment later, he was back with Jessica's coat. "Here, put this on before you freeze that pretty butt of yours. I brought your coat in when you got out of the RV without it."

"Thanks, Lover," Jessica said, grabbing the coat and hurriedly putting it on. She turned to the door, spun back to Fred, kissed him hard, then hurried out the back.

Carla sat at the kitchen table, just as big as it had always been, but now a massive new table resided where the old one once stood.

Fred picked up the coffee pot and held it up, "Coffee anyone? It smells to be fresh. Someone must have made it just before we got here."

"We've got to call Jeff and Diana," Carla said, as if talking to herself. There were fresh tears running down her face as Brenda and Audrey hugged her. "I lost the man I loved, and who loved me. My life was in the gutter; there was no way out. We had lost everything ... now this. This house, the way it is now, was our dream house. We even looked through furniture catalogues..." Suddenly, she got up and hurried out of the kitchen, to return shortly with a thick folder.

"These were our plans and dreams. See. Look at this," she said, pulling out a page that had been cut from a magazine. "Here's the furniture we picked out; the same furniture that's in our new living room now. I recognized it instantly when I walked in. I had looked at these pictures and drawings hundreds of times over the years. Look here at the sketch of my dream kitchen. Everything is the same — everything. How could they do this? Why did they do this? They didn't have time..."

"Jeff told me that Dave and Evie's crews worked round the clock shifts, seven days a week, but they were still worried that we would get back too soon. That's the only reason I knew about the remodel. I was to delay our return until they could finish. No telling how many people Dave and Evie had in their crews. They were working on it before our plane even landed in Atlanta."

"Fred, Baby, what are we going to do? This must have cost a fortune. I can never pay them back..."

"Hush, My Love. You know damn well they won't accept any money from you, or any of us. They did this because they wanted to, just like they helped with the harvest."

"You did too, and you didn't know us any better than they did."

"Yeah, but I got the pussy," Fred very quietly teased as he reached over to kiss her. He got up, walked over to the door and pressed the intercom button for the barn. "Get your pretty butt in here, My Mate. Your mom wants to call Jeff and Diana."

"Okay. I'll be right there," they heard Jessica say from the barn.



-------

Chapter 122


Jeff, Diana, Dave and Evie sat in the living room, waiting. When the phone rang, Diana checked the caller ID and answered. "Glad you guys are back."

"Diana, I..." The voice chopped off, then Carla cleared her throat and tried again. "Diana, our dreams..." Carla's voice stopped again, to be replaced by quiet sobs of joy. "I can't..."

"You just did," Diana said softly. "You're on speaker, so all of us can hear you. Jeff, Dave and Evie are here with me and listening. And, you're welcome. Remodeling the house was just an expression of our love and respect. I remembered your dream book that you showed me. Your vacation seemed like a good time for the project. Evie and Dave took it from there. Now how was your trip?"

Carla choked back another sob, then her voice strengthened, "It was wonderful. I'm dying for you to meet Audrey and to see Brenda in her new body." There was a hesitation, then, "Diana ... we want you and Jeff to marry us to Fred — all of us to each other, the way you and your sister-wives are to Jeff."

"You know we would be thrilled to do that. When? Have you set a date?"

"As soon as we can."

"We'll talk tomorrow night after we marry Mom and Kayla. That okay?"

"Wonderful," Carla said, sounding more like herself. "I guess I should let you go, my man is making noises about trying out the Jacuzzi you guys installed. All of you, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. You can't know how much this means to Jessica and me. I'll..."

"See you tomorrow night," Diana said with a chuckle. "Now go try out that Jacuzzi and take care of that man I hear in the background."

After the two women said their goodbyes, Diana hung up the phone and jumped on Jeff's lap. "Uumph," he grunted as she landed. "Sounded as if she liked her new house." Turning to Dave and Evie, he continued, "You made something possible I would have thought was impossible..."

Dave looked at his boss. "It cost you an arm and a leg. We paid a considerable amount of overtime and bonuses to complete the job on time ... The freight bills alone to get special order items shipped in on time were ... impressive, we didn't skimp on anything. Everything we used is the best money can buy. We still lack the brickwork, of course, but we'll complete it in the springtime when we have warmer weather."

Jeff hugged Diana to him as he smiled at Dave and Evie. "That phone call alone made the whole thing worth it, besides, Fred's an Alpha and those are his women. We all have a bond that can't be broken. That big old house had potential. They realized it on paper, but Carla and Sam didn't have the money to make their dream come true. God has been good to Diana and me. Enough said, except, I really appreciate what you two went through to get that house the way Carla, Sam and Jessica envisioned it. Thank you."

"No problem," Evie said. "We had a ball doing it."

Diana sighed. "I like Carla and Jessica. It's a shame her first husband can't see their dream house."

"And who says he can't?" Jeff quietly said. "Brenda came back. Maybe Sam somehow knows."

-------

Billy woke from his nap, yawned and looked around. In his little cat mind, the white stuff looked beautiful wound around everything. Realizing that he had some of the paper still on him, he pulled it off with his claws, then jumped down to use his litter box.

Bored again, he eyed the closed door that blocked him from going into the sitting room. He walked over and sat staring at the handle that he had seen his mistress touch when she opened the door. He could do that.

Running, he leapt onto a seat, then to a table near the door. With only a slight hesitation, he jumped from the small table to the door handle. The handle moved, but he fell off before it moved enough. Of course, being a cat, he landed on his feet. Without hesitation, he bounded back to the chair, then the table. Carefully, he concentrated on his landing place on the handle, and jumped. This time, he was able to hang on long enough for the handle to move downward and the lock to disengage before he fell off.

The door had moved inward a half inch or so. He caught his claws on the edge of the door and pulled. The door, like all the doors in the Retreat, was the best of the best, its hinges perfect and well oiled. The door began to gradually move inward with his constant pull. As soon as it was open enough, he dashed through the crack into the sitting room.

He had been in the hallway before when his mistress had left the door open, so he knew where he was going. A dash to a table near the door, three tries and the door was open just enough for him to walk through, his tail high. But...

Arlene rounded the corner riding the big vacuum cleaner. Billy, starting to prance down the hall in the opposite direction, heard the monster and whirled around so fast it almost looked as if his tail and head swapped ends on his body. His ears flattened, his back arched and his tail bristled out. He would have peed on himself had he not just used his litter box.

"Yeeoooowww," he screamed as the most horrible monster he could ever imagine bore down on him, roaring. "Physst. Physst. Physst," he spat as he raced the short distance back to the suite and dived through the door, then on into the bedroom to hide, trembling, under the bed. "Physst. Physst. Physst," he continued, his eyes open wide and staring toward the door.

"Oh, my gosh," Arlene said as she shut the vacuum down, dismounted and ran to the door. "Here, Billy. It won't hurt you. How did you get out, anyway? Here, Billy?" she continued as she pushed the hall door open, then noticing the bedroom door ajar, walked into that room to stand awestruck. Looking around, she said, "Your momma is going to be pissed with you. You have been a bad boy," she finished, giggling. "Here she is helping to clean for the weddings while you're trashing her suite."

Billy wasn't in his cage, and after a short search, Arlene found him hiding behind one of the legs of the bed. "Here Billy. Come here. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Yyowwwoo. Physst. Physst. Physst," he spat.

"Oh, hush. Now come here."

Billy wasn't about to come near any human right now, especially the one who had been riding that monster.

Arlene went around to the other side of the bed, but as she did, Billy quickly ran to the opposite side. When she knelt down to look under the bed, she grinned. "Oh, two can play that game." She got on the bed, shook the spread on the side she was on to attract his attention, then quickly reached down on the other side of the bed as he backed out still staring where he thought Arlene was.

"Got you," she said, snatching him up.

The kitten continued to growl, but Arlene ignored it. "I wish you could understand. If you could, I would apologize for scaring you out of your mind. But I think I know something that will calm you down." Getting up, still holding the growling kitten, she got his milk dish, then sat on the bed with her back to the headboard. Pulling her top up, she tucked it under her chin to hold the material out of the way, then tried to milk herself one-handed while folding up and pressing her thigh against the dish to keep it near her breast.

Billy sniffed. With that one sniff, his demeanor changed. Arlene knew he wasn't going anywhere now, so she released him in order to hold the dish and milk her breast.

"Mmeeow," the kitten said, the monster forgotten at the smell of the young Queen's milk.

Arlene ran a hand down his sleek fur as he lapped the milk, his growls now changed to a purr. Occasionally, Arlene would milk her breast again to add a little more milk to the dish. "Oops, sorry," she whispered as a stray, hair-thin stream hit Billy on the nose. He flipped his tongue up to lick off the milk. Arlene had been focused on the kitten, but finally sensed a presence at the door. Glancing up, she saw Selina standing there quietly watching.

Arlene suspected that the little genius had been there for some time. "I scared him half to death with the riding vac, so I thought I would see if a little milk would calm him."

"He was in the hallway?" Selina asked as she walked toward the bed.

"Uh huh. He was walking down the hall in the direction of the living room when I rounded the corner. I was going at a good pace, and it scared him out of his mind. I found him in here hiding under the bed. He wouldn't come to me. I guess he was associating me with the vacuum, since I was riding it. I couldn't think of anything else to do to calm him, so I caught him and gave him some of my milk. I hope you don't mind. And..."

" ... I was able to watch you express your milk. May I touch?"

"No," Arlene said, sharply, then realizing it, relented slightly. "No, that would not be proper. I mean, I would feel uncomfortable."

"Mmeeow," Billy interrupted impatiently. His dish was empty.

Arlene chuckled and pulled on her breast and nipple again while holding the dish close. Billy tried to lap up the streams of milk as they hit the dish, winding up spending as much time cleaning his face as he did drinking the milk from the dish. Both girls giggled at his problem.

Selina frowned as she caught Arlene's eye. "You said he was in the hall as you approached with the vacuum cleaner? How did he gain his freedom from this room? He has obviously learned how to open his cage door, but how could he possibly open the door into the sitting room, not to mention the door to the hallway?"

"I have no idea," Arlene said as she petted the kitten.

"He should be disciplined for this behavior," Selina said, motioning to the toilet tissue about the room, "however I am unwilling to do so since he has been frightened by the vacuum cleaner. Perhaps that is punishment enough? A repetition of this behavior would be unacceptable. Have you any suggestions?"

"Well, I would start by keeping the bathroom door closed, and by keeping anything he can jump from away from the doors. I suspect he used the table there to jump to the door lever. I don't think he could jump that high, otherwise. I've heard of cats opening doors before, but never a kitten. There are a couple of videos on the net with cats jumping up and turning doorknobs."

"That appears to be a reasonable explanation. I certainly did not foresee this set of circumstances, however."

Arlene watched the kitten as he lapped the milk, then she glanced toward the bedroom door. "You can lock the door so someone can't get in, but moving the inside handle will open the door regardless of whether it is locked or not. For now, I suggest we just move the tables away from the doors. We certainly don't need Billy exploring while we're using the big vacuums and decorating for the weddings. He could easily get hurt."

Arlene ran her hand lovingly from Billy's head to his rear, gently stroking him as he drank her milk. "Maybe after the weddings are over we can put extra litter boxes out and let him generally run free, with some restricted areas, of course. He doesn't need to be in the kitchen, or the basement, and if we secure the door at the top of the stairs in the living room, he won't be able to leave this floor."

"You would allow my kitten to roam freely about the Retreat? I did not expect that. Are you certain our Queen will permit this?"

"I don't see why not. Mom likes him, too. We will spend some time making sure there's nothing around that will hurt him. We have a few days to think about it before the weddings are over."

Billy finished the milk, sat back and belched, causing both girls to laugh.

"Billy, that was rude," Selina giggled.

"Mmeeow."

-------

The Jacuzzi was filled while they ate a light meal, Carla still almost in a daze. As they rinsed the dishes and put them in the washer, Fred stepped up behind Carla, putting his arms around her. "Relax, Baby."

Carla turned in his arms to hug him back, her head against his shoulder. "I ... I never expected them to do this when I showed Diana our dream house plans. I just don't know what to think..."

Fred tilted her face up and tenderly kissed her. "It's okay for you to mourn Sam. I know this must bring back memories when you see plans come true that the three of you made together. I'm not jealous of him. You know that. I know you miss him. And remember, I lost Brenda. The woman I spent practically all my adult life with. I got her back through ... heck, I don't know what to say about that. I know how badly it hurts to lose a mate, though. You do what you need to do. Anytime you need to be alone, just tell me. If you want me to hold you, just tell me."

Carla snuggled to him, her voice breaking, "Oh, Fred, I love you so, but I still love my dead husband, too. Seeing all this just brought memories back. I'll be fine, and ... thank you for understanding."

"Why don't we try out that Jacuzzi now? That might help you relax a bit."

-------

"This thing is almost big enough to swim in," Jessica laughed as she lay back against the side of the tub, deliberately exposing her breasts, causing them to seem to float on the water, her swollen nipples prominent. She slid closer to Fred, her hand reaching under the water to stroke his thigh. After a moment, she moved her hand higher, and ... bumped into Brenda's hand as she held her husband's already hard cock.

"Oops," Jessica said, giggling.

Brenda grinned as she swung around to straddle Fred's lap, her hand still holding his cock as she guided it to her entrance. "No use letting this go to waste," she giggled as she worked her pussy down his shaft.

-------

Jeff had spent more than thirty minutes in his office talking with the General on the secure phone. When he walked back into the bedroom, Diana offered him a coke, then sat on his lap, snuggling.

Jeff nuzzled her neck and quietly spoke into her ear. "You're being awfully loving today. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"It isn't hard to figure out," she giggled. "You're going to be in the honeymoon suite with your new wives for the next two nights."

"There's always the daytime," he reasoned.

The Queen pulled back to look at him. "You know better than that. You're just teasing me. No way will I take something away from your brides. And yeah, I know you could fuck me unconscious, and still have plenty left over for them, but it's ... the principle of the thing, I guess. Each of your current wives, including me, got a full measure of your loving on our wedding nights. We might tease you, give you the traditional milk shake just before the wedding, stick a titty in your mouth, and other things, but you'll still have a full load of sperm for them."

Smiling the smile she loved, "In other words, it's tradition," he teased.

"Well, every family has traditions. I guess that's one of ours, but there's another one, too."

"How am I supposed to do that, Babe? I can't very well walk into the kitchen carrying two of them."

"One at a time, Turkey," she laughed. "Even if you have to take out a few minutes between times to top the last one up."

"Di, showing a cum-filled pussy in the kitchen is..."

"Carefullll," Diana said, emphasizing and drawing out the word, "don't mess up at this late date."

" ... something is definitely a tradition that I'll gladly continue," he ad-libbed.

"Good save," she said, giggling. "Now take me over to that bed and make slow love to me. And don't you even mention that it isn't bedtime, yet."

After he put her gently on the bed, she got serious for a moment. "Was there some problem with the General coming to the weddings? You talked to him for a long time."

Jeff stood by the side of the bed as he unbuttoned his shirt. "No. He seemed pleased that we invited them. Oh, by the way, Ellen and Barbara send their love. But our conversation covered something else. Something I wish I could help with, but I just can't figure out how. I really don't want to talk about it now, though, if it's all right with you."

"Good. I'm not interested in a deep conversation just now, either. I had rather see if you've forgotten how to lick pussy."

Jeff chuckled as he kicked off his shoes, then dropped his pants. "You mean, since last night?"

"Seems like much longer," his Queen answered as he sat on the bed to slip off his socks. Diana had shed her top, panties and shorts in a matter of a few seconds. She had already pulled her shoes off as soon as she entered the bedroom. "Now come here and get started before the rest of your wives figure out what we're doing."

Jeff put his hands together in front of his face as if he were diving, then fell between her spread legs and blew a raspberry on her pussy. She shrieked, giggled for a couple of seconds until he licked, then gently sucked her clit. The giggles quickly morphed into soft moans. "Oh, Jeff," she sighed, then whispered, "You do that sooo good."

BOBBY AND SANDRA'S HOME, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

The big bedroom was dark, save for the light from a small lamp where Sandra sat in the far corner of the room reading from her Kindle. The bedroom didn't have a clock on the wall like the hospital room did, so Grigsby had brought Art a watch. Normally, he would wear a watch on his left arm, but with the arm in a sling when he was up, or moving around, he had elected to wear it on his right wrist. That worked fine if there was light, but moving his left arm in order to touch the light switch on the watch, provoked a stab of pain. He hadn't thought he had made any sounds, but apparently he had because Sandra looked up and realized what he was doing.

"It's a couple minutes after ten. Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"Yeah, afraid so."

Sandra put the Kindle on the small table beside her. "I'll get Bobby."

"No," Art got out, a little more abruptly than he meant it. "No, I think I can make it with your help. I can hang onto the IV stand with my good arm, if you'll give me a little support on the other side."

When they got to the bathroom, Art pushed the rolling IV stand in front of him, then stood by the toilet as he held onto the stand. "I can make it from here," he told Sandra.

"Don't be absurd," Sandra said. "I've seen everything you have, and there's certainly no ... uh. What I mean is..."

"You don't have to pull my pants down or help me to sit. I can do it," he quietly announced.

"Agent Hanes, if you lose your balance and sit down hard with that hip that the surgeon is so proud of rebuilding, you will have to have it done all over again. Now let me help you. Pride can come later when you're better."

"No. I'm well enough to do it now." He could see the look of exasperation on the nurse's face. "Look, before, I couldn't manage it by myself. I needed help, and you two took complete care of me. But I'm stronger now, well, at least a little bit."

"Mr. Hanes..."

" ... Mr. Hanes died in a car wreck several years ago. I called him Dad. Time you dropped that mister crap and called me Art. I think we've discussed this before. Look Sandra, you're a very, very pretty woman, and so is your sister. When I couldn't do it for myself, one of you had to put me on a bedpan and wipe my butt, and I really appreciate that, although it embarrassed me no end. But I can manage this on my own. Maybe not without the IV stand, but I can do this without injuring myself. And you can sure bet that I'm not going to screw up and have to go back into that operating room to have this hip redone. So now, scat, Pretty Lady. I'll call you when I'm done."

"Mr ... uh, Art, at least let me help you..."

But the look on his face stopped her. "Okay. You win, but if you hurt yourself..."

Bobby walked in a few seconds after Sandra closed the bathroom door behind her. Bobby tilted her head toward the bathroom, a question on her face. "What gives?"

Sandra stepped well away from the door, then quietly said, "Men and their egos. Suddenly, he won't even let me pull his pajama pants down so he can use the bathroom."

"You mean he wouldn't let you help him get on the commode, either?"

"Got it in one."

"Did you tell him..."

"Yes, Dear Sister, I most certainly did."

Bobby let out a sigh, "Men."

Sandra raised her voice, "You okay in there?"

"Yes, Momma," a muffled voice answered her.

Bobby looked toward the bathroom and grinned. "Oh, he's getting a little personality back." Then her voice softening, "What are we going to do about him?"

"Try to keep him from falling, of course," Sandra started before she noticed the look on her sister's face. "Oh."

"Yeah, that."

Sandra let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Why do we always like the same guy?"

"Because we're so much alike. We both liked Wendell. I still think the boy was shell shocked for a week after you gave him your cherry on Friday, then I gave him mine on Saturday."

"I think he was more upset about us not dating him after that. I don't think he believed us when we told him it was just one date and we had picked him to relieve us of that pesky piece of tissue."

"He did do a pretty good job. I was tempted to go out with him again, but not at the expense of pissing off my sister."

"Same here," Sandra said, now more serious. "So what are we going to do this time?"

"Toss for him?" Bobby joked.

Sandra didn't acknowledge the comment. "Like we talked about the other night; he's special. I wish I had left that piece of tissue right where it was. I could have given it to Art."

"Me, too."

"One of the FBI guys thought we were twins," Sandra said, smiling.

"We should have been. We're more alike, both mentally and physically than many of the twins I've seen."

Sandra hesitated for a moment. "Maybe we just need to let things take their course. He may not want to be with either of us."

"His cock stands up really nice when we're around. For someone who's in as much pain as he is, that's pretty darn good." She frowned, hesitated, then continued. "Letting things take their course, will probably mean heartbreak for us. We need to have a plan. The FBI could snatch him out of here at any time. We'd probably never see him again if they do. I couldn't stand that. And besides, I think he likes us a lot. When he looks at either of us, his face and eyes soften."

"So how are we going to figure out who marries him? I'm not giving you up, no matter what happens. But I don't want to lose him, either."

Bobby reached over and hugged her sister for a moment. "Maybe neither of us should marry him?"

"What? Just let him go?"

"Not hardly. I think we need to talk to him," Sandra said, but Bobby was shaking her head.

"He's going to think we're crazy. He hardly knows us."

"So? It's better than letting him get away."

"You okay in there," Sandra called out.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Art answered.

"He's probably constipated," Bobby offered. "With all the pain meds and anesthesia he's had in the last few days, there's no wonder."

Sandra looked hard at the bathroom door as Art made a scraping noise in the bathroom. "I suggest we just tell him we like him a lot, and want to go with him if the FBI suddenly decides to take him off somewhere and hide him."

"So, you're suggesting we share him?" Bobby asked, her voice low.

"I don't want to give him up, and I don't want to lose my sister. Is there any other way?"

"I'm ready," Hanes said as he opened the door. Then, "What are you two grinning at?"

"Oh, nothing of any import. Just girl talk," Sandra answered as Bobby stifled a giggle.



-------

Chapter 123


SATURDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 26

As Jeff jogged down the driveway at 4:00 A.M., I miss Kayla already, but tonight, she'll be my wife. I'll bet Lieutenant Mayfield will miss her this morning, too; she's fun to run with.

Hmmm. I know he's pushing the security team to train hard. I need to make sure they're getting enough R&R, though. Mayfield is young and obviously wants to impress, and that's fine, but pushing his people too much will cause problems, also. This should be a cushy assignment, but along with an easy assignment comes boredom, too. I need to make sure their rec room has everything they need — everything.

Mayfield was waiting at the bottom of the drive. As he fell in beside Jeff and they started down the mountain, the Lieutenant said, "I wondered whether Kayla would run with you this morning."

Jeff chuckled as he skirted a patch of ice. "Unh uh. Diana says I can't see my bride before the wedding. You know how it is. Women control a large portion of the money in the world and have all the pussy. So I said..."

"Yes, Ma'am," both men chorused, then chuckled.

Running on in companionable silence for a time, Jeff finally looked over at the Lieutenant, "How's Kayla doing with her training? And don't bullshit me, Lieutenant. A lie from you now might get her killed later on if something happens."

"Yes, Sir. I wouldn't do that, Sir."

"Hell, I know. I shouldn't have said that."

"She's sharp, Sir. She has a long way to go, of course, and she doesn't have enough a ... uh, she doesn't have the mass the guys do, just like most other women in the unit, but she is learning quickly. Her instructor is having her concentrate on moves that require less strength, but she's blazingly fast. As I'm sure you're aware, Doctor Boswell is also teaching her, and all your wives how to defend themselves. Kayla took me down with a move I didn't expect. She said Doctor Boswell had taught it to her. Our instructor was impressed, and is now teaching the rest of our people the move."

Jeff and the Lieutenant ran in silence for a while as they watched the light snow that had been falling became a lot harder for a moment, then it slacked up again. "Lieutenant, I don't want her to become overconfident. And neither do I want her hurt badly, but make sure your instructor doesn't let her win when they spar, just because she's my mate."

"He wouldn't..."

"Tell him that, anyway. Also tell him, I understand full-speed hand-to-hand occasionally produces injuries, no matter how careful the instructor is. Kayla must be aware of her limitations. I don't want her to discover them during an attack. That could get her killed. How's she coming with the rifle and our other weapons?

"Like a duck to water. All she needs is time and practice."

"I know she has spent a lot of her own time on the firing range when she came back to the base on what was supposed to be R&R from her archeological duties. She said she usually took a day to go shopping and take in a movie, but spent a lot of relaxation time honing her shooting skills."

They were silent again for a time when the Lieutenant snapped a glance at his Colonel. "I've heard that your other wives shoot really well, too, and that you and your women went through that mercenary group like a dose of laxative. Also, Sir, there's hardly a day that goes by that someone doesn't run that vid of you taking out Buckmann."

There was barely suppressed anger in Jeff's voice as he said, "Buckmann went way beyond the pale when he ordered my wives killed." Jeff mentally cringed as the image of Arlene's blood-covered chest brought on chills. "Arlene almost died that day. I don't want something like that to happen again — ever."

"No, Sir, and it won't. Our perimeter defenses are all functional, as you well know. Now that they're complete, your worry of a helicopter bringing in mercs is over. It would now be just another method of suicide for anyone who tried. They wouldn't get within five miles of this mountain, and I have my choice of weapons to accomplish their demise. Conversely, Mr. Wainwright's helicopters, and any others that may come in bringing passengers, are completely free and safe to do so. Now that your 'radar' has become part of the equation, we can actually see inside any aircraft entering our airspace.

"A fighter coming in will be blown to bits as soon as its weapons go hot, and that's true even if we were all taking a siesta — or dead. With the satellite coverage we have, we'll know about any plane headed this way for an extended period of time before it can get within range. Again, with your radar melded into our system, and our off-world weapons, any missile fired in this direction, even if the plane is well past the horizon and thirty or forty miles away, has zero chance of getting here. And the plane will be toast too, unless there is substantial terrain between it and us. Even then, there are satellites that are capable of taking it down if we couldn't, and unless countermanded, they will do just that.

"We've also been expanding our sensors down the mountain. We can now tell what the special of the day is at Martha's Restaurant without bothering to pick up the phone, and we can hear everything spoken in a vehicle on the way up here. We have not, however, invaded the privacy of any of your neighbors' homes — what few there are."

"That's good. I try to wave, or chat with anyone I can when we're out on this road, but it's easy to get on someone's bad side if they think you might invade their privacy. The added traffic on the road because of my security is impossible to hide. And when I go somewhere, our little parade is a dead giveaway. I guess I'm just going to have to learn to live with 'the rich man on the mountain, ' stigma. By the way, I intend to turn around at the five mile marker there," Jeff said, pointing to a tree with a blaze on it about a hundred yards down the road.

"Cutting the run short because of tonight?" Mayfield asked, grinning.

"Obeying my Queen," the Prime answered.

-------

TWO HELICOPTERS COMMANDED BY GENERAL WHITWORTH APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH — SECURITY HAS CLEARED THE GENERAL'S HELICOPTER TO LAND AT OUR PAD. THE SECOND HELICOPTER IS CLEARED TO LAND AT THE SECURITY INSTALLATION, the computer announced.

Jeff, sitting in the living room looking out the window, strained to look back over his shoulder at the big screen displaying the two helicopters. I could swear that program is getting smarter every day. It sounds almost human. The wording changes as well as the emphasis. There's an undercurrent of something — sarcasm, smugness ... something.

Joyce interrupted his thoughts as she came in and plopped down in his lap. "Arlene is going to pick up the General and his wives," she said, as if Jeff didn't know. She quickly unbuttoned her blouse. "We still have time. Suck my tits, Husband."

Jeff hadn't been born yesterday. Seldom did his wives refer to their breasts as tits, and when they did it was usually meant to stimulate him sexually, or send him a message that whoever was doing it was ready to play. He also knew that none of his current wives would give him any pussy on a wedding day. His contemplation was interrupted as the young deputy shoved a perfect breast against his mouth.

"Suck it, Husband. I won't be able to have you for two whole nights."

"Selina might come in..."

"She won't. She went with Arlene to pick up the General and his wives. Besides, we've already talked to her about that. If she walks in on us, she has promised to immediately turn around and leave. Kids catch their parents all the time. Plus she has told us that she has viewed porn on the web, and has surreptitiously watched her parents having sex — for research, as she puts it. It's not as if we're going to have sex; I just need my titties sucked — ohhh, that's just right. Ohhhh."

Jeff's wives could all have orgasms from his nursing their breasts. Joyce had two small orgasms, then buttoned her blouse, kissed her husband and quickly left the living room.

When Jeff walked out into the hall, he saw Diana coming out of the kitchen. His Queen had a smug look on her face which told Jeff she knew what he and Joyce had been doing. I wonder if she put Joyce up to it. Ten to one, they've decided to keep me stimulated all day. I wonder how they're going to do that with the General here. I saw Diana glance down to see if I had an erection. She almost frowned when she saw I didn't.

Just as they got to the inside garage door, Jeff grabbed Diana and kissed her deeply while gently capping his hand over her mound.

"Jeff, we can't do this, the General is..." she mumbled against his lips.

" ... coming through the door any second," he finished for her. He drew a finger across where he thought her clit was, hitting it perfectly. She shivered and her nipples popped out.

Jeff turned away and grabbed her hand. They had no more than two seconds to wait before the door opened and Ellen walked through, shortly followed by Barbara, Arlene and General Whitworth with a smiling Selina holding his hand.

Jeff fought to keep his face straight, as the General's eyes momentarily locked onto the twin bumps in Diana's top, then snapped to her face.

Astonishing Jeff, Diana said with a snigger, "Sorry about the headlights. My loving husband's idea of a joke, plus you're family anyway."

Selina capped her hand across her mouth to keep from giggling aloud, then ran on down the hall, obviously happy, the genius in her subdued for the moment.

There were a couple seconds of silence, then the General burst out laughing. Turning to his wives, "Go dump the bras. When in Rome..."

Arlene and Diana, accompanied by the General's women, went on down the hall talking and giggling.

"Welcome home," Jeff said as he and the General watched the women walk away.

"It's beginning to really feel like home, Colonel. And my wives love it here, not only because they like everybody, but also because they don't have to pretend."

The men had started leisurely walking down the hall toward the living room as they chatted. "I brought you a present, and one for each of your team as well."

"Oh?" Jeff acknowledged, but he could tell from the General's tone that he wasn't talking about a personal present.

"Wainwright didn't tell you?"

"He said they were finishing a project for you, but if I remember correctly, we got sidetracked by the women, and I guess we never finished the conversation. Something to do with a new combat outfit. I know the idea came from a planet we visited, but I didn't get the details."

The two men entered the living room and sat near the fire. As they seated themselves, Caitlin came in pushing a cart laden with coffee and snacks. She greeted the General and gave him a hug.

Jeff reached over and gently swatted Caitlin's butt. "You shouldn't be waiting on us, Babe. This is your off day, and you've had damn few of them lately."

Caitlin leaned over and kissed him. "That comment fits Joyce better than it does me. I get at least Sunday off, and sometimes Saturday. She seldom gets a shift off, but she did manage to take off tonight and tomorrow night because of the weddings."

She poured each of the men coffee, kissed Jeff hard, almost causing him to spill his drink, and was gone.

Jeff got up, uncovered one of the dishes, took a knife and cut two slices.

"What's that?" the General asked.

"Diana said she was baking a blueberry-lemon coffee cake, so I guess this is it. It darn sure looks good to me." Putting the General's piece on a plate, Jeff handed it to him, then sat to taste his own.

The General took a bite, then, "Well, I can see that my wives are going to be taking another recipe home. That's too good to not have again. They spoil you, you know."

"And yours don't?" Jeff teased.

"Damn straight," the General said as he borrowed one of Jeff's favorite expressions.

A little later, the men had finished the coffee cake, and were on their third cup of coffee. "So what did you bring us?"

"Remember a couple of years back, that planet with the little animal that had camouflage that worked so effectively you could barely see them, even when you knew where they were?"

"Sure."

"My scientists and Wainwright's finally figured out their secret, well mostly figured it out. The material we've made isn't as strong as we would like it to be — we hoped to make it bullet resistant — but it's worn on top of your combat suit, and we can now turn the effect on or off just like the animal can. In low light you're virtually invisible, and even in bright daylight, with the right background, you're very difficult to see. It's highly stretchable, and goes over your combat gear, even your face. It's thin enough that you can see through it from the inside, and it doesn't block the helmet sensors at all. Your team is going to test it for us, possibly under combat conditions."

"Why? Are they going on a mission off-planet?"

"Nooo, but the results from the lab tests were remarkable. The next step is to have a team test it, and this mountain is an excellent site for that. Also, I have some sources who think something is going to happen. If it does, it might just be an excellent test of the camouflage under combat conditions."

"If my team goes, I want to go with them."

The General looked over his coffee cup at Jeff. "And you actually think that I would allow the only person who can command my starship to go on a mission that could conceivably get him killed? Not bloody likely."

Jeff bit back a retort, then said something that caught the General off guard. "And who says I'm the only one who can command her?"

Whitworth hesitated. What the fuck is he talking about? He knows we've already decided that anyone other than the Prime attempting to command that ship will either wind up dead or with his or her brains scrambled. Granted, those who survived are mostly back to normal, other than they won't go near the ship under any circumstances. "Colonel, is there something you haven't told me?"

Jeff, feeling himself tense up, deliberately leaned back in his seat and concentrated on relaxing. "The Ship did something to Little One when she went into the healing chamber with Arlene. Little One and I are better able to communicate, and ... she hasn't said anything about going back into hibernation to work on her new power source a second time. When I ask her about it, she tends to ... avoid the subject. It's almost as if she's concentrating on something else."

"But that doesn't..."

Jeff interrupted with, "My Queen."

Whitworth was becoming confused. "Your Queen? What about your Queen? What has Diana to do with this?"

"Little One says that if another Prime isn't ... I can't fully interpret what she means, but I think it something like no other Prime is near/ready, then the Ship will accept my Queen until a prime is (sent?) to take my place. Since we don't even know where Little One's masters are, or if they even still exist, they're certainly not going to be handy should something happen to me, so I'm pretty certain the Ship would accept Diana as her commander — maybe, any of my three Queens."

"You sure about this?"

Jeff sat quietly for a time, then, "I need to ask the Ship, but I'm almost certain."

-------

Susan and Kayla were in the sitting room of one of the suites. Both were nervous and trying not to show it.

Susan smiled at her soon-to-be sister-wife. "How many times have you read that page?"

Kayla stared at the page on the reader she was holding. "I, uh ... Crap," she finished, closing the reader and putting it on the coffee table in front of her. "We're already sleeping with him. Well, we have for the last few nights, anyway ... So, why am I so nervous that I can't remember what I've read?"

Susan took a deep breath. "I was furious with him for impregnating my daughter. I could have had him arrested. I almost did, but my husband talked me out of it. Then I had to listen to that bed squeak when they made love. Then one day, I was alone in the house and I ... masturbated thinking about him. I had an orgasm almost as soon as I touched myself. He wasn't even a man yet, just a few years older than Diana. I guess I tried to hate him, to compensate for my attraction to him."

The women sat quietly for a time. Kayla propped her bare feet, one crossed over the other, on the coffee table. "I can't imagine Jeff as a teenager."

Susan seemed to shake herself mentally, returning from some memory. "He wasn't typical. I realized that, even then. Looking back on it now, I can see he had a plan. Oh, it was obvious to a certain extent, but I had no real idea how in depth that plan really was — not then. Even I couldn't bitch at him for being a slacker." She got up to pace, but continued, "He was always doing something to earn money. He usually had at least two part-time jobs while he was still in high school. During the summer he had a lawn service. I don't mean just a kid pushing a mower around asking to cut grass. He had a number of customers whose lawns he cut every week. And his lawn cutting came with all the little extras — edging and so forth, that made the finished work look really nice. When the day was over, he worked at one of the local burger places. Then in the early morning hours, he had a paper route, but he never missed school. He got by on an appallingly small amount of sleep.

"He had a separate phone line put in for his business calls, and Diana answered for him and kept his books. They were just kids, for crying out loud. But I had run my mouth so much during Diana's pregnancy that they basically paid their own way. She went to the grocery store and bought their food when I went food shopping, and she bought almost everything for them, too. I wouldn't back down and say I was sorry for the things I had said, and with my attraction for him, I just ... kept being a bitch."

The tears started, as she sat back down in the chair. "I gave him hell about everything, and constantly reminded him he had taken my daughter away from me, and ... had taken her childhood away from her. Truth be told, I was jealous of my own daughter, and was covering it by haranguing him at every opportunity, then rubbing myself daily, while thinking of him and that big cock of his."

"You saw his cock?"

"Yeah, I had been out shopping one day. I parked in the back and came in through the kitchen door. It was raining heavily and I got mud on my shoes, so I left them on the back porch. I guess that, combined with what they were doing, kept them from hearing me. As soon as I was inside the kitchen, I heard them in the living room. They were just finishing up making love. I peeked around the doorway and just froze, watching them. After a little while, I saw him pull out of Diana. There was a big gush of come as his cock flopped out. It had streaks of come, and glistened with her pussy juice. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen."

"What did you do? Did they see you?"

Susan sighed. "No. I eased back out the door, put my shoes on, got in my car and drove around for a while. When I came back, I parked in the front. They never knew I had caught them, but that scene was burned into my mind. I almost fucked my husband to death that night, then after he was asleep, I went to the bathroom and jilled off, twice. I don't mean that I had two orgasms; I got up twice that night and went into the bathroom and masturbated so much my clit was sore the next day — really sore."

-------

Selina had never been involved in a wedding previously. Her mother and father had attended several in recent years, but she had always stayed home with the servants. Not only were the Matthews permitting her to attend the wedding, they were allowing her to assist in the decorating, and ... they had given her the option of being a member of the wedding party.

Today, she had also learned that her mother had brought her (Selina) a pretty dress when her parents had stopped by to visit before going home. Diana claimed that the dress had been her mother's idea, but Selina wasn't so certain that was the case. When she had challenged Diana, the Queen had merely smiled, saying that Selina's mother and father loved her more than she realized. Strangely too, Selina's dress was the same color as the bridesmaids' dresses. Moreover, Selina strongly suspected the dress had been purchased from the same shop as the wedding dresses.

This is illogical, Selina thought. She had asked the Queen how her mother could have known about the wedding before Jeff even asked the women to marry him, but Diana had just laughed and said they all knew the wedding was going to happen, just not exactly when.

Diana had sat and pulled Selina to her, smiled and said, "Look, Sweetie, I talked to your mother on the phone a few days before they left for home. I told her that we had a couple of family members that would be married in the near future. Your mother instantly offered to buy you a nice dress for the event. I told her you could be a bridesmaid if you wished, and suggested our wedding shop.

"I sent security down with one of your dresses so the shop would have your size. I told your mother to give my name to the owner of the shop, and she would take it from there. I didn't want to ask you too soon, but let you get involved a bit before asking you if you wanted to be a bridesmaid. You're awfully hard to surprise, but I think we managed it."

Selina had climbed into Diana's lap and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you. And thank you for not requesting that I act as a flower girl." The last was said with a wrinkled nose. "Due to my height, I shall appear dissimilar when I stand with the other bridesmaids, though."

Diana had smiled. "Already thought of that, and I think this will work," she said, then went on to describe what Selina would do.

"According to my research, there is typically a rehearsal before a wedding..." Selina started, but then her mind flashed ahead as she realized the Matthews had already had a number of weddings, and didn't require rehearsals any longer, especially considering that the women communicated as if they shared one mind.

Diana smiled at Selina, knowing that the genius had already reasoned out why they weren't having a rehearsal.

A few minutes later, they found Hope, and Diana took the two girls to the living room where she walked them through the wedding. The little genius memorized her part instantly, and it didn't take Hope much longer.

-------

Fred, Carla and their group arrived to help decorate. Virginia, Sheriff Tate's wife, and Elizabeth, her sister, along with Rachel and Cindy, Elizabeth's daughters, arrived a few minutes later. The women soon split off to sit in the kitchen and talk, as the men settled in the living room. Later, Jeff, Dave, Frank and Bill were listening to Fred tell about their trip when Diana walked in. "Sorry to interrupt guys. But we need to move the flowers and decorations in now, and ... Susan and Kayla want to take part in the decorating. It is, after all, their wedding. So, My Husband, you need to go back to our suite for a while. When the decorating is complete, we'll come and get you so you can have your shake."

Jeff knew better than to argue about the big shake, for it had also become tradition, but maybe he could get the size reduced a little. "Uh, Baby, I'm all for the shake, but could you get Laura to cut down on the size a little? That thing is huge."

Diana leaned over and whispered in his ear, "So is that cock of yours, My Love."

As his face reddened, the Queen grabbed his hands and "pulled" him to his feet, then swatted him on his ass to hurry her mate on his way. He quickly told the men he would see them later, then hurried out.

Arlene walked in, "Ready?"

"Yep."

The young Queen picked up the phone and called Susan and Kayla. Susan answered and Arlene said, "When Dad is in our suite, come to the living room. We're starting to decorate."

Selina stood listening. "How will they know when he has reached your suite?"

"All of his wives know where he is, and Kayla and Meemi will know, too. They might not be able to 'feel' him as far away as we can, but they can feel him as long as he's inside the Retreat."

I must research this,  Selina thought.

In the storage room a few minutes later, Diana pointed to a sheet of paper with a sketch of the living room and its winding staircase. Turning to Selina, and the others who had not helped decorate before, the Queen said, "Everything in here goes before we take in the live flowers. Every pot, planter or stand has a number on it that corresponds with the number on the sketch.

Selina seemed to barely glance at the sketch before she chose something small enough for her to carry. Hope stood looking at the sketch, tentative. Selina caught her eye and nodded to a stand. "That goes near mine, if you would like to work together."

"Thanks. I would like that."

Diana, suspecting that Selina had memorized the sketch at a glance, watched with a smile on her face as the two girls walked out of the room chatting.

-------

The others had left to go home and dress for the wedding. Jeff's wives, along with the three new girls, now fiancées, sat around the big table as Laura put the "chocolate" shake in front of her husband. Jeff took a sip through the big straw and smiled up at her. The initial taste is that of well-sweetened dark chocolate, but then the taste of other things hit. I never have been able to decide whether I like it or not. Every time I take a drink, it seems to taste a little different. I don't need help with an erection, and they know it. I do know that I'm sleepy after drinking these things, but with my stomach stuffed, there's no wonder. Of course I do wake up with an erection that I have trouble getting to go down, but again, that's certainly not unusual after sleeping. They're going to have the new girls thinking I have to have help getting my dick up.

Laura leaned over and kissed him. "Drink up, My Prime, you have to add to your harem in a few hours."

He tickled her a little before drinking the shake with a vengeance.



-------

Chapter 124


Jeff awoke with the taste of woman milk in his mouth. Even before he opened his eyes, he sucked hard on the long nipple, knowing who it belonged to. Although Diana's and Arlene's breasts were almost identical, as well as Susan's, their milk had a slightly different taste.

Diana let him nurse her right breast for a time, then replaced it with her left. A little later, she sighed and said, "That will hold me until after the wedding. I'll use my breast pump at bedtime."

Moving down the bed, she took the head of his cock in her mouth, sucking gently, then licking. "Oh, shit," he said through gritted teeth. "I swear I feel like I could come a gallon."

Diana sucked hard for a moment to make sure her cheeks hollowed the way he liked, then as his cock seemed to get even harder, she slipped her mouth off while still sucking to produce a pop that she knew he liked to hear. When she stood, she made sure her breasts wobbled a little, watching his eyes.

As she pulled her top back on, "I woke you a little early so you won't have to rush your shower and shave. I'll be back in a few minutes to help you get dressed."

He opened his mouth to say he was a grown man and didn't need any help dressing, but thought better of it at the last minute. Now wasn't the time for sarcasm. "I love your breasts," he said, instead.

"Thank you, My Husband. You'll soon have two more sets to play with for life."

"I'm already playing with them. It's not as if..."

"Yeah, I know, but trust me, both Kayla and Mom will feel differently after they're married to you, and as you know, you'll feel differently toward them. Darling, even though we had been legally married for sixteen years, I felt, and still do feel, different after we married each other again, and our sister-wives. I feel closer to you than I ever did before, and now the bond is so intense, I'm constantly aware of it."

"Di, I feel the same way."

"I know you do, Lover. There is something about all this that's just inherently... right."

-------

Jeff stood in the shower, his dick refusing to go down. Crap, I have got to piss before we get started. If I don't, I'll have to do it as soon as we get to the honeymoon suite. Now that would really spoil the mood.

Bracing himself mentally, he flipped the hot water off, locking his teeth lest he scream when the cold water hit his back. Their water came from deep underground. It was cold. Thirty seconds later, he didn't have an erection, but he did have a fine display of goose bumps.

Out of the shower, he rubbed himself briskly with a towel, drained his bladder, shaved, dried his hair and brushed it, put on some cologne, then walked into the bedroom. Arlene and Ann stood, their hands locked together in front of them, looking innocent. He knew damn well they were going to do everything they could to make him hard again.

"I love you two to death, but don't start or I'll take time out for a good spanking."

"Girls, he sounds like he means it," Diana said, walking in.

"But it's so pretty when it stands up," Ann said, grinning.

"My dick is not pretty," he said, trying to snarl, but failing miserably.

"Oh, yes it is," the three said in perfect chorus, just to prove once again that they could.

Jeff had more help to dress than he needed, but he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed the attention. Finally, they pronounced him ready.

Diana reached up to lightly touch her lips to his. "You will meet your brides in the hallway as usual, and will escort them into the small dining room for a light meal. Dave, Helen and Linda are in the living room entertaining the guests. After the meal, we will stand with the big window to our backs and watch your brides come down the stairs and walk up the aisle to us." She paused to wipe a faint smudge of lipstick from his lips. Then in keeping with tradition, she quietly said, "Make me proud, Husband."

Diana lightly kissed him again and turned to go open the door for them, her shoulders back and breasts out, prissing for him on her spike heels. Arlene and Ann each took one of his hands and slipped it inside the plunging neckline of their dresses. Gently he caressed their breasts as the girls said in unison, "Make your new brides walk funny, Husband."

In spite of himself, Jeff blushed, which produced a giggle from the girls.

Diana opened the door for them as each girl took an arm to escort him down the hall. Shortly, they turned the corner and Jeff stopped to admire Susan and Kayla as they stood near the entrance to the small dining room. "They are truly beautiful," he quietly said. "All of you are."

Arlene smiled up at him, "It's their day."

When Jeff, Arlene and Ann had turned the corner, Kayla and Susan both quietly hissed in a breath as they stood holding hands, waiting. "If I faint I'll make a fool of myself," Susan whispered.

Kayla could feel Susan trembling, knowing that she (Kayla) wasn't in much better shape herself. "Unlock your knees," she softly said, "and don't you dare faint. I'm not far from it myself."

They saw Arlene say something to Jeff. Shortly, the three started walking toward them. A couple of steps before Jeff reached his brides, Arlene and Ann stopped and let him go on alone.

"Ladies, you're beautiful," he said as he stood in front of the two nervous women. "Shall we go in?"

He turned as they meshed their arms with his. He could feel Susan trembling and he had already noticed that Kayla's face was flushed. Each tugged his arm close, pushing a breast against him. Feeling the soft mounds pressed into his arms forced him to have to concentrate to keep from having an erection.

Inside the dining room, he seated them, one on either side of the table, and he sat between them at the head. Jennie brought in the "wine," but this time she didn't bother to have him approve the beverage. They had given up on anything having alcohol in it, none of them really being drinkers, anyway. With Little One's enhancements, it was a moot point. Anything they had tried lately with alcohol in it tasted foul. The sparkling grape juice looked like wine, and this particular brand certainly wasn't cheap. It had a nice sharp taste and served the purpose.

Evie had already taken pictures in the hallway. Jeff saw the two video cameras focused on them, and Evie came in to take more stills as they were served and ate their light meal.

-------

The audience turned to look over their shoulders and stood as the music changed. The brides, holding hands, slowly walked down the steps into the living room, then made their way up the long aisle. Diana, Jeff and all his wives stood in a circle near the glass wall, the Prime and his Queen with their backs to the glass. There was the faint sound of thunder in the distance as the heavens opened up and the fury of a snowstorm raged behind the couple. The circle was not complete, though; two places were vacant.

Thunder snow,  Jeff thought. Well, I am marrying my mother-in-law. As if reading his mind, Diana squeezed his hand sharply.

The General, Jeff's team, the security team and Sheriff Tate stood in the splendor of their dress uniforms to honor the Prime, his Queen and his new brides. Timed to perfection, the two brides stepped in to close the circle just as the music ended.

-------

Later, the reception drawing to a close, the General and his wives, Ellen and Barbara, approached Kayla. "Well done, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Sir."

"I sent you to be close to Colonel Matthews and be his last line of defense. I don't think you could be any closer," Whitworth said with a grin.

"Have I overstepped my bounds, Sir? I really do love him, you know."

"I didn't mean to imply anything, Lieutenant. Far from it." Then teasing, "I suppose you are always armed, as I instructed."

Kayla knew he was teasing her, and she suspected he was certain she wasn't armed as she stood before him in her wedding dress. With a movement so quick it startled him, Kayla grasped his hand and pulled it hard against her left inner thigh to feel the baby Glock nestled there. She released his hand and he jerked it clear of her wedding dress, his face suddenly turning a dull red.

Ellen, chuckled and said, "Well, it's not often that we get to see my husband blush. Good for you, Lieutenant."

"I..." Whitworth said, his mind struggling to come up with something to say. Then, "Oh, Hell, Lieutenant, well done." Before he could further embarrass himself, he turned to go talk to Lieutenant Mayfield.

Ellen grabbed Kayla and hugged her. "Congratulations. You make a beautiful bride. Colonel Matthews is a lucky man."

"No, we're the lucky ones," Susan said as she walked up and put her arm around Kayla, "particularly me. I have my youth back and I have the man I've lusted after for years. I'm one of many, but I'm going to be the best wife I can be; hopefully that will make up for a little of the misery I've put him through in the past."

Barbara, the General's other mate, said, "That man loves you. Why don't you just put all that behind you and concentrate on loving him? I doubt if he would have married you if he held a grudge."

"That's what he says, too, and he said we wouldn't mention it again, but I'm as nervous as a virgin. He's going to carry me into that suite in a few minutes, and despite my age and having been married for years to my first husband, I'm..."

" ... Going to be happy," Barbara finished for her. "And here comes your new husband now."

Ellen and Barbara hugged Jeff and went to rejoin the General.

Jeff stepped up to his brides, putting his arms around Susan from behind, leaning down to kiss her neck. "It's about time to go, My Loves. Ready for a rice shower? I told Arlene I would spank her butt if she hit me with that stuff as hard as she did last time."

Kayla grabbed her husband, holding him as Susan turned and did the same. Kayla held her left hand out so the shiny gold band could catch the light, and laughed aloud. "I'll put up with a little rice to have my dreams come true." Then to Jeff, she continued, "I used to watch your vids, and dream. Those dreams came true a few minutes ago. I'm ready to consummate our marriage. How about you, Sister-wife?"

"If I don't faint before we get to that suite," Susan said, holding her hand out to show how it was shaking.

Jeff put a hand on either side of her face and kissed her hard, releasing a small amount of pheromones. When he moved his face back from hers, still maintaining the gentle touch of his hands on her face, he could see Susan's eyes dilate.

Jeff's other wives came up, led by Arlene. Each kissed Jeff for a few seconds, then touched their lips to first Susan's, then Kayla's. Diana was last as she pulled her mate's head down to glue her mouth to his for a few seconds. "You have made me proud today, My Husband. Now I don't have to worry about my mother any longer. Make her yours tonight, My Love. Make her remember this night forever. I know that Kayla's dreams have just come true, also, so make her your wife forever, too. But you need to kiss the girls before you go. I'm sure they're a bit tense right now."

Jeff turned to the three girls who were standing back a little, hesitant. "Come here," he quietly said.

Putting his arms around all three of them, he hugged them for a second. After a moment, he pulled back a little. "Twenty-four hours from now it will be the four of us walking down that hall to the honeymoon suite." He tapped his wedding ring with a finger. "Each of you will be wearing a mate to this ring. You will be my wives forever. Tonight, please rejoice with me for I will soon make love to two new wives, and tomorrow night, they will rejoice because I will be making love to the three of you."

He kissed each of them, and they all clung to him. "We'll be waiting," Whitney choked out.

-------

Arlene, having kept a watchful eye out in case the newlyweds should try to sneak away, yelled out, "They're leaving!"

Jeff grabbed his new wives, herding the women in front of him to shelter them as best he could from the hail of rice. He tried to hunch his head down in his collar as Arlene's handful stung the back of his neck. Jeff quickly decided that his team was having entirely too much fun as they pelted their Colonel with the tiny missiles. Laughing, the three ran down the hall. At the door to the honeymoon suite, he took time out to shake some of the rice out of his collar.

Kayla grabbed his face and kissed him hard. When she stepped back, Susan did the same as Arlene led a chorus of wolf whistles and good-natured calls from the guests who had remained just outside the reception hall.

Jeff's wives stood as a group with Diana a step in front as quiet descended. Even at this distance, Jeff could see the pride on her face. My Queen would look regal in a toe sack. I'm so lucky to have her.

Jeff turned to his new wives even as he saw Kayla cut her eyes toward Susan, sending him a silent message. He leaned over and took Susan in his arms, picking her up, kissed her hard, spun around making her squeal, then touched the partially open door with his foot and walked into the sitting room to gently deposit Susan on the couch.

"Be back in a second."

In the hallway, he kissed Kayla hard, picked her up and spun around with her as he had Susan.

"Sleep well, Daddy," Arlene called out as everyone laughed.

With a giggling Kayla in his arms, he walked into the suite and pushed the door to with his foot. Sitting Kayla on the couch beside her sister-wife, he leaned down and kissed first Kayla, then Susan.

"Shall we have another glass of our fake wine?" he asked, picking up the bottle from the ice bucket.

"I don't..." Kayla started.

But Susan interrupted, "I think that would be nice."

Kayla nodded that she would have some juice after all, realizing that Susan was delaying.

Jeff took three chilled glasses from the refrigerator, and poured for them. With a flourish, he handed a glass to each of his new wives. "At least I didn't have to fight the cork this time. I guess I'll never be a wine connoisseur now," he joked. "Of course, I probably wouldn't have been even if I could drink anything with alcohol in it, but Little One ended my connoisseur days before they even started."

As they touched their glasses, he said, "To us and forever."

Both women wondered at the toast, but repeated it, "To us and forever," they said in unison.

Jeff was worried about Susan, and he realized he had been rambling because of it. He took another sip of the grape juice and sat between the women, putting his glass on the coffee table and his arms around their shoulders. Kayla immediately snuggled against his side, putting an arm behind his back and pushing a breast against him. Susan did the same, but her movements were a little hesitant, although she did smile at him when he looked at her. As he leaned over to kiss her, he felt her lips trembling slightly.

Pulling back a little, his lips almost touching hers, "I won't bite," he whispered. "We can do as much or as little as you like."

"I'm being ridiculous," Susan sighed, straightening the neckline of her dress yet again. "You made love to me night before last, and the night before that. Nothing is different, except ... I'm your wife now. All my bitching to Diana about the other women living here, then when I got here and found out they were really your wives ... Now, I'm one of them. How much more hypocritical could I possibly be..."

Jeff kissed her hard, cutting off her self-critical discourse. After a full thirty seconds, he pulled back enough to say, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she weakly said.

Kayla got up to sit on the other side of Susan, putting her arms around the older woman. "I feel the same way," Kayla said. "I never expected to be his wife, but I am, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of it. Jeff tells us that with Little One, we're going to live for a very long time. I'm flattered that I'll have you as one of my sister-wives for all those years to come."

"Oh, Kayla, that's such a nice thing to say. I'm sorry if my nervousness has put a damper on our wedding night. I'm so sorry."

"No damper on anything," Jeff said as he reached to pick up his glass and down the last of his grape juice. Taking Susan's glass, he set both on the coffee table, then picked Susan up. "Be back in a second, Kayla."

Kayla tipped her glass at him, before finishing the last of her drink. "I'm not going anywhere," she laughed.

Jeff walked on into the bedroom and put Susan on the bed. As she reached to remove her heels, he touched her hand. "Wait up. I'll be back in a moment, and I'll do that."

"Okay," Susan said, relaxing her head onto one of the pillows. She tensed up as her eyes focused on the mirrored ceiling (Something that Diana had once mentioned, that Dave and Evie made happen). There were very tastefully done mirrors on the wall on either side of the bed. "Oh, my goodness," she whispered. After a moment, she winked at her image on the ceiling. I look so young. But I'm not as pretty as Jeff's other wives.

Jeff walked in with a giggling Kayla in his arms. "Oh, wow," she said. "I like the mirrors."

Jeff laid Kayla gently on the bed. "Dave and Evie always do a super job," he said. Then pointing, "If you don't like the mirrors, there's a switch on the wall there that will cause curtains to cover them."

Kayla smiled at their image in the ceiling mirror. "I think it's sexy, and it is our wedding night."

Jeff took Susan's hand for a moment. "How about you, Susan?"

"Until you made love to me in that big bed, I always thought it would be gross to watch others having sex. But somehow, it wasn't. I could feel the love from everyone. Watching myself ... well, we'll see." Then even startling herself, "I'll get to see that pretty ass of yours as we make love." Susan knew that the women teased Jeff by talking about his pretty ass, and she tried to tease him to relieve some of the tension she was still feeling.

Jeff took Kayla's shoes off, kissing the bottom of each of her feet as he did so.

"That tickles," Kayla said, trying to stifle another giggle.

After removing Susan's shoes and putting them beside the bed, he stood and removed his clothes down to his shorts. Both women watched the play of muscles across his back as he put his clothing on a chair. Gently pulling Susan to a sitting position, he ran the zipper of her dress down her back while kissing her. As he slipped the dress off her shoulders, he kissed her neck, then the exposed skin as he gentled the dress down. She swung her feet over the side of the bed, stood and let the dress drop. Quickly picking it up, she draped it carefully over a chair, her braless breasts swaying and jiggling nicely.

"It's too pretty to wrinkle," she sighed as she stared at it for a moment. Finally, she turned to him, forcing herself to put her shoulders back and proudly display her breasts to her new husband.

Lest the mood be spoiled, Jeff picked her up and gently laid her back on the bed, her body now adorned only with her thong and sheer hose. Her nipples were extended and almost painfully swollen. "You're beautiful," he whispered in her ear. He kissed around her face, eventually winding up with his mouth on hers. After a moment, he touched his tongue tip to her lips, asking entrance. When her lips parted, he touched his tongue to hers for a moment, then pulling back, he quietly said, "I'll be back in a little while."

Walking around the bed to the other side, he held his hand out for Kayla, who took it and stood. Jeff kissed her the way he had her sister-wife, then slid the zipper down, easing the dress off her shoulders. She let it drop, stepped out of it, then placed it carefully over a chair on her side of the bed. Popping the Velcro, she took the holstered baby Glock off her thigh and placed the weapon on the end table close to the bed. Turning, she stood proudly before her husband. "My body, my mind and my soul are yours, My Husband."

"Yes," Susan said. "I also."

"The same for me, My Wives."

Returning Kayla to the bed the same way he had Susan, he kissed her for a time, then let his mouth drift southward to circle one nipple then the other, refusing to touch the swollen bud. After teasing for a while, he licked first one nipple then the other. With the cool air in the room and Jeff's lips and tongue, Kayla's nipples were soon rivaling Susan's.

He felt Susan's hand caressing his shoulder as he began to nurse Kayla. He didn't feel Susan's tremble anymore.

Kayla suddenly grabbed his head, pulling his face hard against her breast as her first orgasm began to build. She took in a trembling breath, then the orgasm overcame her with a force she hadn't yet felt. She wasn't quiet.

Jeff was sure he heard a subdued giggle from Susan. While Kayla was recovering, he turned to his mother-in-law, kissed her, then teasingly licked her nipples, while slowly walking the fingers of a hand down her belly toward her pussy.

As he nursed her, Susan felt the tingle and slight pressure that she had heard nursing mothers refer to as their milk coming down. Whatever the name, she could feel her milk flow through her nipples, the tiny tickle of multiple hair-thin streams as it squirted into her husband's mouth. He suddenly sucked hard, causing her to unconsciously moan her pleasure.

The fingers that were slowly making their way toward her center, changed direction and caressed her hip. She hadn't even known she had closed her eyes until she realized that both of her nipples were being nursed. Her eyes popped open and she stared into the mirror on the ceiling as Kayla nursed one breast while Jeff nursed the other.

From somewhere, her orgasm was upon her like a slow tide, irresistible, slowly engulfing her until she was swept away by it. She felt a finger slide under her thong, lightly tracing circles on her clit. The orgasm continued to build. She couldn't even scream. Her breath was suddenly gone as she struggled to remain conscious. Jeff had fucked her unconscious in the hallway the first time he had taken her, but this was different — more somehow.

She tried to put her arm around Kayla, to tell her how much she loved her, tried to tell Jeff, but her arm wouldn't move; nothing came out of her mouth. The world faded away...

-------

Susan didn't know how long she had slept. Slowly the world came back. As she opened her eyes and her brain began to interpret the sounds about her, she looked up into the ceiling mirror just as Jeff slowly shoved his cock into Kayla. Susan suddenly noticed the mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed. The room was fairly large and the mirror wasn't close, but she still had a view of Jeff's ass as the muscles rippled when he pulled his cock back, then slowly pushed forward again. There was a momentary glimpse of Kayla's pussy as his glistening cock slid back inside her, his balls coming to rest against Kayla's ass as he bottomed out. There seem to be a couple of inches of cock that wouldn't fit inside her.

Seeing her sister-wife having Jeff's cock stuffed up her, brought on arousal as intense as Susan had ever felt. She took a shuddering breath and rolled to her side, her hand moving to Jeff's back to caress the man she loved. Jeff looked at her and seemed to motion with his eyes as he raised himself a little above Kayla's chest, then moved his upper body a little to the side.

There was a time I would never even consider doing this. Heck, I wouldn't associate with a woman who I thought would make love to another woman. But she's my sister-wife, and she did it to me. Susan's body trembled as she remembered the sensation of having both of her breasts nursed at the same time. Even as she thought, she leaned over and licked one of Kayla's aroused nipples. Kayla gasped and hunched her pussy high as Jeff's speed picked up, his groin slamming into Kayla's.

I watched Jeff make love to his wives before, but somehow I just didn't feel as if I belonged. This is different. I feel complete just being here with the two of them. I know I'll feel like I belong when we're all in that big bed again. Now I'm part of the whole. That was such a great feeling when we stepped into that partial circle in front of Jeff and Diana. The circle closed — became whole. I became part of our marriage. Diana told me how it would feel, so did Arlene and several of the others. But nothing could describe that feeling, and I know Kayla felt it, too. I still feel that way, and I know I will when I'm with Jeff's other wives. This is the way a marriage should feel.

Susan nursed Kayla's breast trying to project her love to her sister-wife. A whining started deep in Kayla's chest, gradually becoming clearer — louder. "Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jeffffff," Kayla screamed as she locked her legs around his hips and slammed her pussy upward.

Kayla's orgasms had become one long one that didn't show any sign of lessening or stopping. Her whine became louder, still gaining in volume, becoming earsplitting. Jeff's thrusts picked up, he trembled, said, "Here it comessss," as he dragged out the last word, then groaned as his body trembled and his balls jerked tight against his cock.

Susan hastily turned Kayla's nipple loose for fear of hurting her sister-wife as she jerked, her body spasming in time with Jeff's cock pulsing. Jeff drew back one final time, then slammed into Kayla and held. Susan heard a wet sound as semen was forced out around Jeff's cock when Kayla's pussy was overfilled. Kayla was babbling. Suddenly she took a breath, shivered hard and relaxed, her world fading away.

Jeff was breathing hard as he supported himself on his forearms. After a moment, he leaned down and touched his lips to Kayla's partially-open mouth, then kissed each nipple. Jeff pushed Kayla's right knee up a little, then rolled her to her side, his body now lying almost ninety degrees to hers, his cock still embedded in her pussy, the lips of which were swollen and red. Thick come oozed out from around their joining.

Susan got up and hurried to the bathroom, where she dampened a washcloth in warm water. Returning to the bed, she took a dry washcloth and a towel from the stack on the end table. Sitting down on the bed beside the couple, she waited. When Jeff nodded, she capped the wet washcloth around his cock as he pulled out of Kayla. Jeff rolled over to his back, his cock lying on his leg, still swollen but no longer hard.

Susan gently cleaned Kayla's pussy and dried it. With a dry washcloth, she wiped up the spill between her sister-wife's legs. When Jeff reached for the wet washcloth, she shook her head, leaned over and took his cock into her mouth, tasting his semen and her sister-wife's lubricant. The wetness had an intense taste, but her body instantly responded to it, her nipples becoming swollen and elongated again.

Smiling to herself, she licked his cock to the base, then licked his balls clean of his and Kayla's spend. When she was done, she took the wet washcloth and bathed his groin, then dried him. His cock was now standing tall again as she looked over it to smile at her husband.

Jeff moved to roll her to her back, but she shook her head. "Just lie still, My Husband." Tossing the washcloth toward the table, she came to her knees and straddled him. Reaching down, she took his cock in her hand, her breath catching as she felt the thickness of it. She raised herself as high as she could, fine-adjusted the angle and pushed down.

Diana had insisted that Susan and Kayla keep a small dildo in their pussies most of their waking hours, and had also explained in detail how to squeeze the dildo. Most any female would be a snug fit for Jeff, but strengthening the wives' pussy muscles meant better sex and the ability to "milk" their husband. Diana had also told her that it seemed to enhance the woman's feelings as well. Susan had only done it a few days, but already, she could feel her muscles automatically starting to grip Jeff's cock as she worked herself down him.

Once she had his cock inside her as far as she could take it, she sat for a moment, getting used to the stretching. Leaning forward, "Suck my milk, Husband." He obliged her and she gasped with the sensation. "Diana, Arlene and I are going to make you fat," she giggled like a teenager, then hissed in a breath as Jeff sucked harder, drinking from her.

Soon, she was wiggling her ass on him, her breath coming in gasps as she moved his cock around in her pussy. Losing count of her orgasms, she concentrated on milking her husband's cock. Finally, she felt it throb, then pulse. Something warm washed her womb; her breath caught in her throat and her lungs didn't seem to work properly. Kayla later told her she screamed until she made their ears ring. Susan never heard it.



-------

Chapter 125

THE NURSES' HOME, ATLANTA, GEORGIA, 1:00 A.M.

Sandra sat reading in the corner of Art's bedroom, a small desk light near her. Art moved yet again, this time slowly turning to his back. A quiet sigh escaped his lips. Sandra, keyed to her patient's every sound and movement, stood up and approached his bed. She wasn't certain he was fully awake, but she knew the restlessness and sighs meant he was in pain.

During the afternoon, Hanes had refused to press the pain pump button, saying he wasn't going to become addicted to the pain medicine and was doing fine without it. Most patients didn't hesitate to activate the pump whenever they could, especially patients who had recently had major surgery.

She lightly touched his good shoulder. His eyes popped open and he looked at her in the dim light of the room. Smiling at him, she pressed the button on the pain pump.

"I'm not hurting badly," he said, shaking his head. "I don't want to get hooked on that stuff."

"As I told you earlier, we won't allow that to happen. The new doctor changed your pain meds to something that isn't nearly as strong, anyway."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm still not willing to become dependent on some drug."

"You won't," Sandra said as Bobby came in wearing a robe, her hair tousled from sleep.

"He's having a problem sleeping because he doesn't want to take his pain meds," Sandra told her sister.

"Not good," Bobby said.

Turning back to Hanes, Sandra continued. "Research has shown, and it has been our experience, that people don't become addicted to even strong pain medicine as long as they're taking it when they need it for real pain, and not just taking it because it makes them feel good. You haven't hit that pain pump button a third as often as most of our patients do. You are not going to become addicted unless you abuse the medication. Patients get well faster if their pain is controlled."

Bobby chimed in with, "You might be delaying your recovery because your body is stressed with a high level of pain. Stress can exacerbate any illness and can cause problems in an otherwise healthy body. Plus, real rest — deep uninterrupted sleep — is essential for recovery. From the looks of your bed, you're having a restless night. Hurting and constantly moving around in the bed instead of sleeping will delay your progress. Much less medication is required when it is used to control pain. But when pain is allowed to get intense, it takes much more medication to relieve that pain than it does to control pain as it occurs."

Looking back at Sandra, Art said, "You pressed the button, so I have the pain medicine in me now. I'll..."

"The pump gave you a very small dose. Not enough to get in control of your pain yet. I'll monitor your pain meds for the next few hours until we're back on top of the pain. Then I'll let you do it, if... you promise you'll press the button when you begin to hurt. Promise?"

Art sighed, but seeing the determination in Sandra's face, he reaffirmed, "I'll take enough to ease the pain — Momma," he tried to joke.

The nurses ignored his little joke, because their attention was elsewhere. Bobby, standing close to her sister, reached behind Sandra and tapped her twice in the small of her back where Art couldn't see. The two sisters, on the same wavelength most of the time, often communicated by touches or a code word when one sister noticed something about a patient and wanted the other sister to become aware of it without the patient knowing.

Sandra was already cognizant of what Bobby wanted her to notice, though. Art had slowly pulled his good leg back, raising his knee to hide his increasing erection, but both women knew why he pulled the knee up. "Be back in a second," Sandra said as she and her sister turned as one and went over to the door where they conversed in intense whispers.

A moment later, they agreed and quickly returned to the bed. "First off," Bobby said as they stopped side by side at Art's bed, "we need to talk to you about what might happen. The FBI is using our house to hide you, basically, because they need to keep you near a hospital and doctors until your recovery has progressed sufficiently. After that, all you will need is therapy and a little help getting around..." Bobby looked frustrated for a moment, then took a breath and said, "Oh, crap, I can't think of a diplomatic way to say this, so here goes. The FBI will probably move you out of the area so the criminals will have a harder time finding you ... We want to go with you."

Art looked at the two blushing nurses, Sandra wearing her uniform, and Bobby with tousled hair, wearing a robe. "Well, I don't see where that would be a problem..." but then his mind dropped into gear and he understood what the sisters meant. "Oh, shit. Do you mean..."

"Yes," the nurses said in unison.

Sandra continued with, "We know it's too soon, but if we wait for things to develop normally, the FBI might snatch you out of here and we will never see you again. We want you to know that we're willing to go with you. No, that isn't exactly what we mean; we want desperately to go with you."

Bobby leaned down and kissed him lightly. "We've never felt this way before, and we're afraid to wait. We don't mean to presume, but we think you might have feelings for us as well. Once you're better, the FBI could suddenly move you, and if they did, we would never see you again. Neither you nor the two of us would ever know if we could have had a relationship. We're not virgins, but ... uh, I guess you could say we're not very far from it. We've both been waiting for the right man, and it seems like we've found the right one. One, being the operative word."

Sandra took over again. "We liked one boy in high school. One. Not one each, but one, period. Now we've done it again, but this is more than just like. Bobby and I have come to an agreement. We want to go with you if they move you, and it only seems logical that they will once you're better. Please don't laugh at us. This has been hard for us to get out. Please..."

"Yes."

The nurses looked at each other, then back at Art. "You'll tell them that you want us to go with you? Do you think they'll let us go?"

Hanes reached out with his good arm to hold Sandra's hand. He grunted when he tried to move his other arm to take Bobby's hand. Bobby reached over and gently took his left hand so he didn't have to extend the arm. Hanes smiled at them and said, "I don't think you two will have much choice about leaving. Oh, they will probably give you the choice of going somewhere else, but unless I miss my guess, the two of you are headed for our witness protection program. After what this slaver outfit did at the hospital, they're not going to stop. Sandra, they'll find out that you killed their assassin and come after you — both of you. And they're never going to give up on me, either."

Hanes squeezed their hands. "Whatley and Grigsby are as sharp as they come. They know this is a delaying action, at best. The people who are after me are wealthy and have an organization that has interwoven itself throughout our society. At least that's what I've been told. What I've seen seems to substantiate that idea."

Bobby walked around to the other side of the bed and pressed the button to raise the head somewhat. Both women sat on the bed and turned to their sides so they could snuggle to Art. The two nurses looked at each other for a moment, their faces fairly close to the agent's. Sandra cleared her throat. "We, uh ... well, we talked to Special Agent Grigsby earlier in the evening. He had already told us that he didn't care what Bobby and I did as long as we gave you excellent care. But, we talked to him again to be certain. We could have gotten fired for kissing you in the hospital. But now that the FBI is paying our wages, and the hospital is out of the loop, we wanted to know for certain just how we stood with the FBI."

Bobby took over. "Agent Grigsby reiterated that we were contract workers. We're not FBI agents — obviously — nor are we employees of the hospital. I, well, we, think he was a bit amused that we wanted clarification before we ... did anything that might get us fired, or whatever they do with contract workers. He just chuckled, and said it was obvious we had feelings for you, and he thought the feelings might be mutual. Oh, crap, this isn't coming out very well."

Her face blazing red, she leaned over and tenderly kissed Art. Not just a peck on the lips, a full-blown kiss that went on and on, but with very little tongue involvement. She was desperately trying to show him how she felt about him. When she pulled her mouth, grudgingly, from his, Sandra took her place.

Hanes had forgotten about trying to keep his erection hidden and had let his legs straighten out on the bed. The result: a respectable tent in the sheet. The two women glanced at the tent, then at each other. Bobby pulled the knot that held her robe together. She took Art's right hand and put it on one of her exposed breasts, then leaned over to continue the kiss.

Art felt the sheet pulled down and seconds later, his pajama pants. Shortly, a warm mouth slipped over his dick and a hand grasped his cock farther down, beginning to stroke it. The mouth added suction and her tongue moved on his dick.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled into Bobby's mouth. She broke the kiss and moved her body upward a little, pushing a breast near his lips. He licked her nipple and locked his lips around it, teasing with his tongue and occasionally nipping gently with his teeth.

Time drifted onward. Bobby moaned and tried to push her breast down his throat. Something was happening to her. She had had orgasms with her vibrator — many orgasms. She and Sandra had even experimented with girl-girl, a little. In high school a boy had sucked on her breasts. Although it felt nice, she had not even thought about having an orgasm that way. Now, the feeling seemed to start in her nipples and they in turn seem to be somehow connected to her pussy. From there, the feeling rapidly spread over her entire body. She tingled all over, the intensity growing until it seized her completely. Her world seemed to blow apart, ecstasy consuming her.

After a little while, she became aware of Art's chuckling as he turned his face so he could breathe. She must have collapsed on him. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, trying to focus enough to move.

"Don't be sorry, Baby," he strained out. "That's a very nice compliment you just gave me, Bobby, but I ... Sandra you need to stop," he struggled out as he looked down at the other nurse sucking his cock. "I'm going to..."

But Sandra had no intention of stopping what she was doing. She would not waste his gift to her. With no more warning, his cock throbbed and pulsed. Sandra let out a squeak, one hand rubbing between her legs, the other hand stroking Art as she sucked hard and swallowed his spend. His cock pulsed multiple times. No telling how long it's been since he got off, she thought. Frantically swallowing, her thoughts continued, Whoever said that guys only shoot a couple of tablespoons of come sure hasn't sucked Art off.

Eventually, she licked him clean, then kissed the head of his dick one more time. Smiling up at him, she thought, That one blowjob I gave Kenneth in school didn't last thirty seconds before he came. Thank goodness for the Internet. Art acted like he thought I knew what I was doing. Nothing like being able to look up how to give a superb blowjob.

"Come up here, Sister," Bobby said, smiling at Sandra with love. Turning back to Art, who was now trying to catch his breath as the world finally came back into focus for him, she continued, "Sweetheart, please do my sister the way you did me. I mean, if you feel like it. Are you okay? We didn't make you move around too much and hurt yourself did we?"

Bobby realized she was almost babbling. Art smiled at her, pulled her face down and kissed her strongly. "You didn't hurt me."

Turning to Sandra who was still holding his shrinking dick and looking up at him, "Please come here and let me show you how much I appreciate what you just did for me."

As Sandra sat farther up the bed, Bobby reached over and began unbuttoning Sandra's top. Art got the catch on her bra, then pulled her face down to kiss her lips for a long time, apparently not overly concerned with the taste of her semen-flavored mouth. Eventually, he locked his mouth onto a nipple. Time drifted for the three of them as Bobby gently stroked her sister's shoulders and back while Art nursed. His mouth caressed Sandra's nipple, his hand gently milking her breast, then his teeth nipped her swollen bud. She squirmed her groin against his good leg, whispering a drawn out, "Yesss," as she felt something she had never felt before. She managed to lock eyes with her sister for a moment. Bobby nodded to her, acknowledging that she understood. Sandra's orgasm started. At first she wasn't even sure what it was. It was so much different from anything she had ever felt in the past. Without further warning, it ripped through her body. The part that was her was riding on a wave of pleasure so strong that...

-------

Sandra felt a cool washcloth gently wiping her brow. "Ease up, Sister. You're lying on his bad shoulder."

"Oh, my gosh. I'm sorry," Sandra mumbled as she struggled to take her weight off Art. "I must have hurt you terribly..."

"Hush," he said, forcing a chuckle to back up his lie. "You didn't hurt me." His grin got bigger, "But you did flatter me, bigtime."

Sandra pressed the pain pump button again, giving Art another small amount of the medication. They talked quietly for a few minutes, occasionally kissing in the afterglow of what had happened to the three of them. Eventually, Art's eyes became heavy. The sisters stood, each giving him a final kiss for the night.

The nurses had pulled Art's pajamas back in place and had straightened his bed. Sandra clipped the call button to the sheet near Art's shoulder. "We're wearing our pagers. All you have to do is press the button," she reminded the young agent. "I'm going to snuggle with my sister for a while. If you need me, I can be here in a couple of seconds. Okay?"

"Sure," he sleepily said. "I've been feeling guilty about you sitting up all night, anyway. I'm not hurting, and I'm very ... mellow," he chuckled. "I'll press the button if I need anything."

"Don't get out of bed without one of us being in here. Promise?"

"I promise," he mumbled as sleep overtook him.

-------

Jeff locked his mouth to Kayla's for a moment as his orgasm neared, but she pulled her mouth back a little, gasping out, "Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jefffffff. I can't ... stop ... coming."

Jeff pumped rapidly a few more times. As a groan escaped his lips, his cock jerked and pulsed, his prostate pumping sperm-laded semen into his new wife. She felt warmth flood her pussy as he held hard against her cervix.

My cervix must be partially open. I swear I can feel his seed in my womb. How can he come so much over and over? I'm gonna... 

After a few minutes, Jeff eased his cock out of the sleeping Kayla. Thank you, Diana, or whoever set out the washcloths and towels for us. He dampened a cloth in the vanity sink and wiped Kayla's swollen pussy. As he looked at Susan's groin, he mentally chuckled. Wiping her clean again, he put a fresh washcloth between her legs and did the same for Kayla.

Stretching out between the two women, he pulled each into his arms and willed himself to sleep for a few hours.

SUNDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 26

At six, Jeff's eyes popped open. Both of his new wives were still snuggled to him, their heads on his shoulders. As he lay there contented, Kayla's breathing changed. She made a slight smacking sound with her lips, then quickly sat partway up. "Oh crap, I'm sorry. I drooled on your shoulder."

She was up in an instant, snapped up a washcloth and was back to dab at his shoulder. "I'm sorry..."

Jeff grabbed her as she leaned over him, and plastered his mouth to hers, pulling her off balance and onto him. Her landing shook Susan awake. "Oh, I dreamed..." She cut the sentence off, but continued with a faint whisper, "It wasn't a dream." A moment later, she started to sit up, but stopped to look down at herself. The lips of her pussy were red and swollen. She suddenly became aware of her back, hips and belly muscles. Memory returned fully.

The two women stared at each other across their husband's chest. "Hello, Sister-wife," Susan got out past an undignified giggle.

"Good morning, Sister-wife," Kayla returned with a grin.

"You as sore as I am?" Susan asked.

"Well, if I'm not, I certainly sympathize with you." After a moment, Kayla continued with, "Now that we don't have any hair down there, it's easy to see that we darn sure slept with a Prime last night. I never expected that we would shave our pussies in the middle of our wedding night."

"It kinda embarrasses me to look at myself. My ... pussy looks almost ... lewd, but I like the way it feels," Susan commented as she drew her fingers slowly up her swollen vulva.

"I like the feel, too," Jeff said as he slid down in the bed, turned over and buried his face in Susan's groin.

"Oh, no," Susan gasped out. "Wait; I have to pee." Quickly standing, she ran to the bathroom.

Kayla looked over at Jeff, a grin plastered over his face. "Don't you dare," she warned. "I'll pee on myself for sure." Then raising her voice, "Hurry, Susan."

When the women were done and back in the bedroom, Jeff got up, one hand on his erection, and went to the bathroom. In the bathroom, he stood in front of the commode pushing down on his dick, trying to pee. Susan and Kayla came in to stand on either side of him.

"There's another tradition that Arlene told us about," Kayla said, brushing his hand away and grasping his cock. Susan also put a hand around his cock.

"Tradition?" Jeff said, trying to act as if nothing unusual were going on, wondering why women wanted to hold his cock while he peed.

Kayla smiled up at him as she slowly stroked. "Arlene says that new wives get to hold your cock while you pee. So go ahead."

"Look, Ladies, the girls..."

"Diana says she did it, too," Kayla offered. "She said they all did at some point."

"Well, uh, I guess so, but there's a problem with that — especially if you keep stroking me like that."

"Oops. Sorry," Kayla laughed.

Several minutes later, after counting backward by threes for what seemed like forever, some of the hardness had left his cock and Jeff managed to get a stream started. "This is gross, Ladies," he commented as the two moved his dick, guiding his stream around the bowl.

"It's fun," Kayla laughed. "It feels so odd. I want to do this more."

Kayla was having fun, but Susan's face was very red. Jeff started to be worried before he realized that her nipples were extended and her whole chest was flushed.

When he was done, they all took a shower together. Jeff got to wash titties and pussies, while the women took turns washing his cock and balls. Back in the bed, Jeff licked both women to orgasm after orgasm. Finally, as time for breakfast drew near, he positioned both of his new wives on hands and knees on the side of the bed, their pussies in the air.

"Mom, do you want to be first?" he asked.

"I'm not 'Mom' any longer. I'm your wife now."

"Yeah, I know, Mom," he said, easing his cock into her pussy.

Susan started to complain, when she realized what he was doing. It did make the sex just a little bit naughty, somehow. She hunched her hips backward, but suddenly stopped and hissed in a breath. "I'm really sore. But it ... feels ... so good," she added as the pain turned to something else. "Oh, shit, Jeff. Fuck me."

Not long after that, as Susan orgasmed, Jeff let himself go, pumping his semen into his mother-in-law/wife. As he pulled out and she collapsed on the bed, she held the lips of her pussy closed, giggling as she thought about the reason she was doing it.

"Fill me up, Big Boy," Kayla teased, wiggling her ass at him as she looked over her shoulder. If Jeff's cock hurt Kayla, she didn't show it. Shortly he was pumping her pussy full as well.

"How are we going to get dressed and hold the sperm in at the same time?" Susan asked as she stared at her wedding dress laying on a chair.

"We'll help each other," Kayla said.

Shortly, Jeff was walking down the long hall with a blushing Susan cradled in his arms, her hand buried under her dress to keep her pussy closed.

They stopped just outside the kitchen door. "Ready, My Love?"

"No," Susan said, trying to chuckle, "but we may as well do it, anyway."

Jeff kissed her, said, "I love you," and walked in.

Susan refused to meet the eyes of anyone at the table. Taking a breath, she pulled her dress up, baring a swollen and drooling pussy. "I'm full of come ... but I'm broken," she got out to her own amazement.

"All right!" Arlene said as she and Ann high-fived. "I knew she would."

In a rush, the embarrassment seemed to flow out of Susan. She snuggled to her husband, proud of herself.

"Sit her here for the moment, Husband," Diana directed, pulling out a chair, "and go get your other new wife."

Jeff sat Susan in the chair, kissed her and left. Shortly, he was back in the hallway by the kitchen door with an equally blushing Kayla in his arms. "Susan really did it?" she asked for the second time.

"Yep. She's waiting for you in the kitchen."

"Then kiss me, Husband, and let's get this show on the road," a nervous Kayla said.

Shortly, "I'm full of come, but I'm broken," Kayla proudly told the gathering.

After the laughter and congratulations, Diana directed her husband to take his new wives to the hot tub. Jeff turned with Kayla still in his arms and went out the door with her. Susan started to get up and follow. "No," Arlene said. "You get to be carried by your husband to the hot tub, and we'll also bring breakfast to you there."

"I'm fine, I'm a little sore, but I can walk just fine," Susan tried to insist.

Arlene got up and approached her Meemi, leaned over and lightly kissed the older woman on the lips. "Sit tight, our hunk will be back in a minute. He's just as proud of your sore pussy as we all are. The hot tub will help, and Mom has some pussy cream. If your pussy continues to bother you, Dad will have Little One fix you up."

Jeff walked back in, kissed Susan hard, scooped her up and took her to the hot tub.

The wives gathered by the hot tub to welcomed the new members and help them disrobe. Kayla and Susan took their turn kissing Jeff, then the others gave him a quick kiss as well. Diana was last.

With a look of concern on his face, Jeff spoke quietly to his Queen, "I saw Hope standing by the other kitchen door watching. I didn't notice her to begin with; I was concentrating on my new wives, but I suspect she got the whole show."

Diana put her hands on her husband's sides, looking up at him. "She asked me for permission to watch, and I gave it to her."

"Diana," he started, more intense than he meant it to be. "Sorry, I just never expected..."

"She's almost sixteen. She's been used as a prostitute by her father. She has serviced numerous horrible men. Men who wanted to make love — no that's wrong ... wanted to fuck a child. She was forced to pretend she was twelve, or something like that; forced over and over to pretend she was a virgin. She's well aware that Little One has put her hymen back, but that certainly hasn't removed all those memories. We have talked, and I'm sure she has told Helen more than she has me, but even so, what little she has confided in me is ... nauseating. Many of those men hurt her, defiled her in the worst ways imaginable. They were wealthy and paid her father well for her services, but Baby, I wish I could dig that bastard up and kill him again, myself."

"But, she watched your Mom and Kayla bare their come-filled pussies and say they were broken..."

Diana, pinched him lightly on both sides. "She knows that was tradition, and we told her what they would say. Jeff Matthews, what she saw — and probably felt — was your new wives bragging about their wedding night. They were so darned proud of being there and taking part in our weird little tradition. I made sure Hope knew exactly what would happen. I first told her no when she asked, but she wants to become a part of us so badly, yet she's afraid of men. I finally agreed she could watch, but I wouldn't let her be with us at the table because that's something reserved for your wives."

"I..."

"It's a woman thing, My Love. And something else, Helen approved it, and..."

Jeff tensed, but grinned when he realized he had. "Go ahead. What's the rest of it?"

"She's waiting for you to leave. She's going to join us. I gave her the option of wearing a swim suit if she wished, but the rest of us will be nude."

"What?" Jeff hissed out. "You told me that the new wife tells all about her wedding night..."

"Absolutely. Can you think of anything else that would show the love our Prime has for his women more than that, hmmm?"

"I would have thought..." but he wound down before he finished the sentence and got himself into trouble. I will never understand women.

"You're not supposed to," his Queen responded as if he had said it aloud. "You're not supposed to. We've already eaten, and Mom and Kayla will have their breakfast while they sit in the hot tub. Now go eat your breakfast so I can call Nat, Nicki and Whitney in."

"You're not..."

"You won't see them before tonight because it's their wedding day, but there's nothing wrong with them getting to hear your new wives talk about their wedding night or show their swollen pussies."

Women are... 

She smiled up at him, "Don't even think it, Husband."



-------

Chapter 126

A little earlier in the day, Jessica had stopped on the back steps to stomp the snow off her boots, then left them on the back porch. Once inside, she grabbed her mother for a hug as Carla moved bacon from the skillet to a platter.

"Whoa, Girl. What's this all about?" Carla laughed. "I assume by your good mood that our horses are okay?"

Jessica grabbed a piece of the bacon. "Oh, wow, ouch," she said as she juggled the hot slice from one hand to the other. "Yeah, Molly and Abby are fine and so are the others."

"That's hot," Carla added, nodding to the bacon.

"No, duh," Jessica said, blowing on the piece and taking a bite. Giggling, she hugged her mother again.

"So, did you get them all fed?" Carla teased, knowing the system was automatic.

"They were just finishing up the grain that the system had fed them. I decided to put some more hay out in the lot, but all I had to do was press a button to have it delivered by the conveyor. I did have to move the big bale to the lot rack with the tractor, but that took about thirty seconds," she finished, laughing. "Feeding is surely not going to be the chore it used to be."

Carla chuckled, "Well, feeding a few horses is a lot different than it will be to feed a whole herd of cattle when we restock. I was going to go with you this morning, but that man of ours was threatening to start eating the furniture if I didn't cook breakfast. Might have had something to do with us all being horny after the wedding. I have no idea when I fell asleep. We must have screwed him half the night," she finished with a laugh.

Brenda and Audrey walked into the kitchen holding hands and giggling.

"What's so funny?" Jessica asked.

"We just discovered that his cock goes from zero to ninety in about one second flat when we gently scratch his balls," Audrey said.

"Now that's useful information," Jessica said as Carla slapped Jessica's hand when she tried to sneak another piece of bacon from the platter.

Brenda began scrambling eggs as Audrey started another pot of coffee, the women all used to working with each other preparing meals.

"I'm hungry," Fred roared as he walked into the kitchen.

All his mates chuckled. "When are you not hungry?" Carla said as she turned to him, pressed her breasts to his chest and kissed him as if she hadn't seen him in a month. "You should still be full from all the pussy you ate last night," she teased.

Fred rubbed his belly and grinned at her. "Low calorie. Have to eat a lot of it," he laughed.

The timer dinged and Jessica took the big pan of biscuits out of the oven and began spreading a thick coat of butter on their tops. "She's still horny. Weddings do that to women," she said over her shoulder.

"I am not," Carla said, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm too sore to be horny," she admitted.

"Bull," Jessica said, "you're just sore and horny, just like the rest of us."

The teasing continued. Brenda began setting the table as Audrey put hash browns on a platter.

"Diana said she wanted us to spend the night with them tomorrow night," Carla said.

Fred took mugs down for everyone, then stood waiting for the second pot to finish brewing. "We just returned from a trip. Did she have a particular reason for wanting us to stay over so soon after our vacation?"

Carla stopped momentarily to look at him, "She seemed ... oh, I don't know, a little bit secretive about why she wanted us there. She did say something about telling us some things we didn't know."

"Did she seem upset?" Fred asked as he began pouring coffee for everyone.

"No. She did say it had nothing to do with the farm, just something that we should know."

"We're going back tonight, anyway. We should have plenty of time to talk after the wedding," Fred reasoned.

"I mentioned that," Carla agreed, "but she said they wanted to talk when we could all sit down and relax with plenty of time afterward, and Jeff could be there also."

"Odd," Fred said. "I thought we already knew all their secrets."

"I have no idea what they want to talk about. Diana assured me that nothing was wrong, but she was insistent that we spend the night tomorrow night."

Fred shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we'll find out what it's all about then."

Breakfast ready, they sat and held hands as Jessica said a short prayer of thanks for their safe trip and their meal.

Carla looked over at her mate. "After breakfast, I'm going to go see our horses for a few minutes, then visit our neighbors and thank them for looking after things while we were gone. I talked to them on the phone Friday afternoon just before we got in, so they know we're back, but I want to make sure they know how much we appreciate their taking care of things while we were gone on our trip."

Fred had finished his eggs, hash browns and bacon. He put a dollop of fresh butter on his plate, poured sorghum syrup on it, then worked the butter into the syrup with his butter knife. With a fresh biscuit in hand, he lathered a swipe of the mixture onto the biscuit and took a bite. "We should probably all go. They need to meet Brenda and Audrey, anyway, and you're right, we need to thank them with a little more than just a phone call."

Audrey got up to get the coffee pot and refreshed their cups. "I'm a little nervous about meeting your friends. What are we going to tell them about our relationship?"

"Nothing," Carla chuckled. "Sooner or later the women will ask, and I'll tell them the truth. I suspect it won't take long for them to reason it out just by the way we treat each other. I'm not going to try to pretend."

"Regardless, I can see that you're a bit nervous," Brenda said as she thanked Audrey for the coffee with a smile, "but what about me? What am I supposed to say? Oh, hi, I'm Brenda, Fred's dead wife come back to life in this neat new body that used to belong to a doper. That should go over really well."

"I guess..." Fred started.

But Brenda interrupted, "Oh, I know I can't do that, but I do want to get this body's name changed to mine. Every time I look at her driver's license, it worries me. We didn't get stopped on our trip, so I never had to use it, but it still concerns me."

"That's something else we need to discuss with Jeff and Diana," Fred allowed. "Maybe we need to get the driver's license transferred to Colorado before we get involved in the name change thing. Might get some advice from one of Jeff's lawyers — do things right so there won't be any complications."

Carla reached over and took Fred's hand for a moment. "Your mates have been discussing something. In addition to Jeff and Diana marrying us, I want us to have a contract something like the Matthews have. Should I have an accident..."

"Whoa, woman. Nothing is going to happen to you."

"I know. I know, but still, I want our marriage to be something a little more secure than just our word in front of friends."

Jessica started giggling.

"What's so funny?" Carla said, staring at her.

"Well, we can't all get legally married," she laughed, "so we'll just get contracted, instead."

Carla wanted to glare at her, but she could see the smirks on all their faces. Giving up, she chuckled, "Okay, let's see about getting contracted then."

"Does that mean I can look for new pussy?" Fred said just to play with them.

"No!" they all said at the same time.

Carla added, "You have all the pussy you need, Big Man."

"And some fine pussy it is," Fred chuckled, leaning over to kiss Carla again.

-------

Whatley, the Atlanta SAC of the FBI, parked his vehicle and sat staring at the apartment complex in front of him. This area wasn't a ghetto, but it was a far cry from where Courtney Grigsby (The ASAC's wife) used to live with her husband. I wonder what happened to them? I have never seen the slightest indication that Matt was running around on her. Crap, I can't imagine when the guy would have time. I guess he was away too much and she hooked up with someone else. I suspect this trip is as near useless as anything I've ever done, but dammit, I feel a certain responsibility. Here the guy is busting his ass to do the best job he can for me, and she just up and leaves him, apparently with no warning. Then she ends up in a dump like this. Matt says she's didn't even attempt to gouge him with what she asked for in the divorce — except for that nice TV he just bought,  he chuckled to himself. He really liked watching the game on that thing, but it was little enough to give up since she didn't even ask for alimony. From the looks of this place, there must be one hell of a difference in their salaries.

Sunday morning. At least I should be able to catch her at home. Of course, I'm going to embarrass the hell out of myself if her boyfriend comes to the door. Then again, that would provide the answer as to why she left. What the heck am I going to say to her? Oh, yeah, I'm your husband's boss, remember me? I came by to meddle and get you to go back to the guy who saved my life yesterday. Yeah, that should go over like that proverbial balloon ... Fuck, get out and get this over with.

Whatley walked up a flight of concrete steps that sported a rusted guardrail that needed a new coat of paint — five years ago. A half dozen screaming kids pushed past to run down the steps and around the corner. Someone across the street repeatedly revved a loud car motor. Passing the landing, he walked on until he reached apartment 212. There was a curse, then an argument started up between a man and a woman in the apartment two doors back. Whatley could hear every word the two screamed at each other. Crap, how do people live like this? he thought as he pressed the buzzer — which didn't seem to work. He rapped three times on the poorly disguised steel door set in the concrete block wall of the apartment.

A moment later the door opened a crack, then stopped against the chain lock. "Yes? Oh ... it's you."

Whatley had met Courtney Grigsby shortly after Matt had transferred to Atlanta to be one of Whatley's ASACs. He had seen her several times since then, but only in passing.

"I would like to talk to you for a few minutes, Mrs. Grigsby. I didn't come by to harass you. Matt doesn't even know I'm here."

There was a moment of silence before the door closed, the chain rattled and the door opened wide. Courtney looked at Whatley for a moment, turned and walked toward the couch. "You may as well come in and get it over with."

Courtney was dressed in a robe that went down past her knees — utilitarian. She turned to sit on the couch, crossing her arms under her breasts as she nodded to the chair on the other side of the coffee table. She's darn sure pretty enough to attract most any male she wants,  Whatley thought as he glanced at her petite frame, pretty face, nice figure, and long, very dark brown hair that bore a gentle wave. There seemed to be just a hint of Asian in her ancestry.

The living room was spartan — concrete block walls painted a light green with a stippled and water-stained off-white ceiling. The couch and fairly comfortable seat at least matched, but he suspected they were rentals. The coffee table seemed new, but it was certainly not quality. There were two small tables with lamps, and a matching bookcase with a few books in it. The only real thing of value was a big screen TV at the other end of the room. Courtney Grigsby had definitely not improved her living conditions when she left her husband.

"I told Matt I wouldn't put up with him harassing me..."

"And has he?" Whatley interrupted. "And again, he doesn't know I'm here."

"Uh, no. He signed the divorce papers, but I wouldn't talk to him. I just want to end it. So how did you find me? Used the resources of your agency, no doubt."

"Actually, I did. I asked one of my agents to find where you were living. He called information and got your new number and address from them. Took him about a minute. So I guess I did use my authority to find you," he said, grinning at her.

He saw her fight a grin in return.

"I didn't come by to harass you, Mrs. Grigsby..."

"I won't be a Grigsby long," she interrupted.

"Uh, may I ask why?"

"Why what?" she said, frowning, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Did you find someone else? Did he?"

Courtney glared at Whatley, her eyes flashing. "That's personal and absolutely none of your business. I can't believe you would so blatantly ask that."

Whatley sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I apologize. I've found the direct approach works more than you might imagine. Look, I knew before I came over here that there was an excellent chance that this visit would be fruitless, but I just had to try. Your husband saved my life yesterday. Saved no telling how many lives, for that matter. To say I owe him one has to be way up there on the list of understatements."

Astonishing him, Courtney Grigsby stared at him, started to say something, and suddenly her pretty eyes overflowed and tears poured down her cheeks. "I knew he was involved in all that as soon as I saw it on TV. I just knew it. And ... for your information, that's basically the reason I'm divorcing him. I saw you looking toward the bedroom. There's no one in there and I'm the only one who has been in there since I moved in. I know you're speculating, but I didn't leave him for another man. I ... just can't stand wondering if he's coming home, or if I'm going to get a call, or if someday there'll be a knock on my door with someone there to tell me..." She choked up, waved her hand a little bit to try to signal for him to wait, then just stopped trying to talk. She took a tissue from a box on the coffee table and wiped her eyes, making Whatley wonder at the convenience of the tissues.

Whatley got up, went into the kitchen, found a glass in one of the small kitchen cabinets and brought water back to her. She took a drink, her hand trembling. "Thank you," she quietly said.

Whatley returned to his seat and just looked at her, saying nothing as the woman sat quietly crying and staring at the floor. The silence dragged on until it became embarrassing. Finally, Courtney sucked in a breath and looked up at the SAC. "My dad was a cop. One night, when I was ten, two men wearing suits came to our door. I saw them and being a kid, didn't think much about it, just some more of my dad's cop buddies, I guessed. I started toward my room and was just down the hallway a little way, when my mom screamed out. I will never, never forget that night.

"When Matt and I started dating, I thought I had it handled. After all, he was an ASAC. He wasn't a street cop. He was a supervisor. But even though he never really discussed anything in detail with me, I still knew in general what he was doing. More and more, I realized that he tended to make sure he was there when bad things were going down. That bitch shot him in the leg. The worries piled on until every time the phone rang when he was working, it felt like a jolt of electricity ran through my heart. When someone knocked on the door, I would feel that night from long ago when those men came to tell my mother that my father had been killed in a shootout. I just couldn't take it anymore. I can't live like that. I love Matt too much. But I think my love will fade with time. I'm thinking about moving to the west coast. I've talked to my supervisor and she says I can get a transfer, but the cost of living is higher out there, so I'm holding off and saving my money until I have a little nest egg to get started when I move. I'll never forget Matt, but I'll find someone else, eventually, and get away from this misery I feel."

Courtney pulled another tissue from the box on the coffee table and blew her nose. She hesitated a moment as she stared at Whatley. "I didn't mean to come across the way I probably did. Matt would have turned me over his knee for not immediately offering a guest refreshment. I apologize. I just finished making a pot of coffee before you knocked on the door. Would you like a cup?"

Whatley noted that the comment about Matt turning her over his knee had brought a flush to her face. "Sounds great," he replied, wondering if she had remembered something about her husband. Whatley was almost certain it was something good. Hmmm. I'll bet spanking was part of their love making at some point. That wasn't anger I saw.

"Why don't we have it in the kitchen? I have some cinnamon rolls that I picked up at the mall yesterday. There's plenty for both of us. Have you eaten?"

"Actually, I haven't," Whatley said, wondering at the change in her demeanor.

In the kitchen, she motioned to the table and said, "Sit. I'll warm the rolls."

She put cups, powdered creamer (a no name brand), sugar and spoons on the table. There was a cheap microwave on the counter. The refrigerator wasn't a large one and had to be ten years old at least. This woman traded in a man she loved — and obviously still does — for this. But hell, if Grigsby had taken another half second before he pulled that trigger yesterday, someone would have been knocking on my wife's door to tell her I was dead. Shit! What do I tell this woman? I still haven't told my wife how close I came to dying; moreover, I'm probably not going to, either. Think dummy, think. What can I say to Courtney?

She poured their coffee, and when the microwave dinged, put a big piece of cinnamon roll on a plate, then put it and a fork on the table in front of him. After serving herself, she sat at the other end of the small table.

"Every time I go to that mall, I can smell these things all over. I seldom make it out of there without a sack full of them. Matt lo..." Her voice trailed off.

With those stumbling words, Whatley made up his mind. He hastily swallowed the bite he had in his mouth, then took a sip of coffee. "I'm going to tell you some things, Mrs. Grigsby. Most of it is common knowledge from the news media, or else will be circulated eventually because of the nurses and visitors who saw what went down at the hospital yesterday. Some other things, however, aren't common knowledge, so I'm going to roughly summarize those. Other things are part of an ongoing investigation — an extremely important investigation — so I can't tell you everything I would like to. We've obviously used a little misdirection in what we've released to the media.

"The gas attack at the hospital that's been all over the news didn't go down exactly the way the news reported it. It was the second of a twofold attempt to kill one of our agents..."

"Attempt? I thought the news said the agent was shot and killed by an assassin who was himself killed a few seconds later? There was a lot of theorization about the gas attack, and some 'expert' speculated it was also directed at the agent. They said that it was nerve gas but it was a very small amount that would have affected only one room..."

Whatley didn't say anything as Courtney stared at him. After a second she hissed in a breath. "Oh, shit. It wasn't a small amount, was it? How much?"

Whatley continued to sit mute.

"How much," she repeated.

"Let's just say that your husband saved many lives, including my own — and his."

"Terrorists?"

"In a way, but in the context you're asking, no."

"I hate the FBI," she hissed out. "Everything is a big secret. Why do you make a secret out of everything?"

"To protect our sources; to protect our families. Everyone knows that we don't divulge any information to our families, at least anything that would do a criminal any good. That in itself goes a long way toward protecting our loved ones."

"So, how did my husband save your life yesterday? Or is that one of the many things you can't tell me about?" She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

Whatley stared Courtney in the eye. "The assassin raised the wand attached to the gas cylinder and pointed it at me. A microsecond before he sprayed me, your husband killed him — with his backup weapon. Matt had already loaned his primary weapon to the agent who was in the hospital. Matt put things together before I did, then drew and fired in time to save my life, his own life, and countless others which included police, our people, nurses, doctors, patients and visitors. Sooner or later all this will come out, of course, but the powers that be want to downplay this as much as possible to forestall a possible panic situation. The mere mention of nerve gas made this incident into headline news nationwide. If the facts had all gotten out at one time, every exterminator in the US would have been suspect."

"He was..."

"Yeah, he wore an exterminator's uniform. Even the gas cylinder had the company's logo on the side. We can't keep the part about the exterminator out of the news for long, but hopefully we will be able to delay it long enough until it will only be a second or third page follow-up detail to the story. We've talked to all the nurses and visitors who saw the assassin. Someone will spill it to the news or to someone else who will talk to the news about it, but the more we can delay the details, the less chance there will be a panic. At least that's our thinking on the matter. So, obviously, I would appreciate your keeping what I said in confidence. We don't need to be flooded with calls every time a pest exterminator gets out of his van."

"So my husband, as well as you, almost died yesterday? That's what I've just been talking about..."

Whatley cut off another bite of the cinnamon roll with his fork, but paused before putting the bite in his mouth. "I shouldn't have been there. I was just stopping by to check on the agent who had been shot. A phone call would have sufficed. My job has very little risk associated with it. The agents do the hands-on. I guess you could say that a SAC supervises the supervisors. Your husband does indeed come in contact with risky situations from time to time, mainly because he's a hands-on type of person. When he makes SAC, that will, by job definition, stop. I spend most of my time in the office. So will your husband when he's promoted."

"So you're saying..."

"I have recommended his promotion in the strongest possible language. Retirement isn't that far away for me; I have many years with the agency. Consequently my recommendation, accompanied with his record, plus ... his saving all those lives yesterday will make him a shoo-in for the next SAC position opening up. The Denver SAC is retiring shortly. I'm almost certain Matt will be moving to Denver in the near future. He's running an extremely important assignment right now, and it can't be interrupted, but if the Denver SAC retires before Matt's present assignment is over, the agency will hold the job open for him. I strongly suggest that you think about your divorce and your reasons for it, compared to his near-future job that will have very little danger associated with the position. Before you dump the man you love, you might spend some time in thinking about what I've just told you."

Whatley finished the piece of cinnamon roll and emptied his cup. Getting up, he put everything in the sink. Turning back to Courtney who had remained sitting at the table just staring ahead, he said, "Before he leaves for Denver, my wife and I would like to take the two of you out for a nice meal. The two of you. Think about it before you throw your marriage away for reasons that will soon be no longer viable. Chances are all it will take is a call to your attorney to have the divorce stopped, or at least put on hold, while he finishes this assignment."

The SAC touched her shoulder as Courtney's tears increased. He took out his card and jotted two numbers on the back. "You can reach me at either of those numbers. The top number is my home phone. You might want to talk to my wife. I'll tell her to expect your call. I'll let myself out." With that, he turned and left.

Courtney Grigsby poured herself another cup of coffee, sat back down in her chair, hissed in a breath and cried.

A few blocks from Courtney's apartment, on impulse, Whatley turned into a Wal-Mart parking lot. Inside, he purchased two cheap phones with a reasonable amount of minutes on them.

Back in his vehicle a few minutes later, he turned back toward Courtney's apartment. When he was back inside, he handed her one of the phones.

"What's this for? I have a phone."

"As I said, your husband is on a critical assignment. It's of the utmost importance that his location remain secret. Don't try to call his personal cell, and you won't be able to reach him on his agency phone, either. Jot the number to this second phone down, memorize the number, then destroy the scrap of paper. Don't set a speed dial up. I think you're about ready to talk to your husband, but because of what is going on, you'll have to be careful when you do it."

"Agent Whatley, I told my husband not to..."

"Remember what I said about his new job. Your fears are invalid now — or will be in the near future. What harm will it be to keep in touch? Why all the tears if you don't still have feelings for him?"

"I do have feelings for him. I told you what the problem was..."

"Talk to him, woman," a frustrated Whatley snapped out. "At least discuss your problems with your husband. Give him that much consideration, anyway. He's a good man. If you dump him, I strongly suspect you'll never find another man who will care as much for you."

Turning to walk out the door, he hesitated, "Shall I give him that number?" he asked, nodding to the new phone in her hand.

Courtney couldn't bring herself to answer. Whatley turned and walked out the door.

-------

Jeff and the General sat in the living room watching one of the news channels. "It's a shame about that agent getting killed after he rescued Hope," Jeff said as he frowned.

"He didn't," Whitworth said.

"Yeah. I thought so. That's what you implied earlier. Want to tell me the rest of it?"

"The FBI ... misled the news media in hopes it would take the pressure off the agent. He's safe for the time being, and if I can help it, he's going to stay that way. We're gaining ground with the slavers, but we've already stepped on the toes of some wealthy people. They were obviously sending a message when they tried so hard to kill the agent. Not only are they trying to keep his knowledge from us, but they're now using terror tactics to divert our investigations. The information you gave us allowed us to make considerable headway into their ranks, as you well know, but they're fighting back, and they don't obey any rules. Killing a few hundred people obviously doesn't bother these people one bit, and you can bet they're not finished."

Jeff sat thinking for a time. "I wish I could use Little One to heal that agent, but there's no way I could do that in secrecy. Healing Joyce from a brain bleed was believable enough, because people have sudden recoveries from that type of thing, and I was part of her family, so my being there was reasonable. Multiple bullet wounds suddenly healing would bring attention to me, hell, if I could get past his security. I imagine he's swamped with people on high alert since this happened."

Jeff grinned at the General, "So, now tell me what really happened in Atlanta."



-------

Chapter 127

SUNDAY AFTERNOON, THE NURSES' HOME

The new doctor had just left. Whatley, Grigsby, Sandra and Bobby sat in the den as the nurses briefed the two FBI agents. Whatley had talked to the doctor, but maybe because of their shared history, Whatley trusted the nurses more and had asked for a meeting with them.

"So, he's on oral medications entirely now?"

"He's a free man," Bobby joked. "No IV's or drains anywhere."

Grigsby flinched, picturing the drains being jerked out, since he had seen it done after his father had a major surgery.

Sandra and Bobby locked eyes with each other, and Bobby gave an almost imperceptible nod to her sister. Sandra looked from Grigsby to Whatley. "We heard a couple of comments you two have made, and I guess I don't know which of you to ask this, so I'll just ask both of you. We, Bobby and I, have ... uh ... well we've ... Oh, crap, we think you're going to move Art, before long and ... we want to go wherever he goes. We've..."

"Fallen in love with him," Bobby supplied.

The two men glanced at each other, then Whatley said, "Both of you?"

The nurses' red faces were enough to answer that.

"And what does Agent Hanes say about this?" Whatley asked, just to tease the two a bit.

Bobby breathed deeply, realizing that she had been holding her breath. "He says he wants us to go with him — if you decide to move him."

"We don't have a place yet," Whatley responded. "But you do realize that you will have to sever all ties to relatives, employers, and so forth for an extended period of time. It could be years. That means no phone calls, e-mails, or any communications with anyone you have ever known. Nothing."

"Can we take our reloading equipment with us?" Sandra asked.

The non sequitur caused both Whatley and Grigsby to hesitate for a second.

"Loading our own ammo and target shooting are the only real hobbies we have," Sandra offered.

"Uh, yes, I guess that would be okay," Grigsby answered as Whatley winked at him.

"We don't have any other family," Bobby continued. "The only thing that would tie us to this area is our house payment. Surely we could do that anonymously. But we would have to have jobs to keep from losing our investment here."

"We've already told you that you will be paid until Agent Hanes is ready to go back to work. As far as that's concerned, this would be an ideal safe house under 'normal' circumstances. We've considered purchasing another safe house in the area, so the Agency could purchase this one and take care of that problem for you," Whatley said.

Bobby smiled at him. "You don't seem very surprised about our wanting to go with Art."

Whatley and Grigsby grinned at each other, then Grigsby turned to the women. "Let's see now," he said, his manner teasing. "Each of you held his hand and talked to him while he was unconscious. You have given him the utmost in professional care. You were both — make that are — very protective of him. While he was in the intensive care unit, any other nurse barely made it past the door of his room, hmmm. Whichever of you was going off shift, managed to stay around for several hours to 'help out.' Then you rented a room at the hospital's motel so the one off duty could 'be available' just in case she were needed. Not to even mention the way the two of you acted during the assassination attempt. One of you put her own body in the way of a bullet, and the other one killed the assassin."

Bobby and Sandra glanced at each other, their faces flushing more and more.

"Now you suddenly want to go with Agent Hanes, if we decide to move him."

"We didn't know our feelings had been that obvious..." Sandra started.

"We think it's a great idea," Grigsby injected.

"And ... we've been expecting your request for some time now," Whatley said. "Also, you're right. There are ties with you to the hospital, so we need to protect you, as well as Hanes. These people have resources — obviously. They'll eventually figure out that Hanes wasn't killed, and discover that you two worked at the hospital, took care of him, then ... suddenly stopped working in the intensive care unit."

Grigsby continued, "As I said before, all our safe houses are occupied right now. We literally don't have a suitable place at this point in time. When something becomes available, we'll move Agent Hanes, and sever all ties with the hospital and this area. That's the only way to be absolutely certain these people don't get to him before we're ready for the arrests, and that the resulting court cases are completed with these people in jail."

Whatley cleared his throat, "This might very well be a lifetime change for Agent Hanes and for the two of you, also. Convicting several of these people won't shut down their organization, no matter how much we hurt it. As long as there are any of these bas ... uh, people out there, Hanes could very well be killed in retaliation. That goes for the two of you as well."

"I'm sorry we got you into this," Grigsby said.

"Don't be," the sisters responded as one, then Sandra continued with, "We're where we want to be. He's the man we've been looking for. As long as you let us go with him, we'll be satisfied. Art said that you would have to move us to protect us, even if we didn't want to go with him. But we do want to go with him. Please don't consider anything else. No matter what it takes, we want to be with him."

"Maybe something will turn up in a week or two. Until then, we're going to stay right here and at high alert."

Startling both men, the nurses got up and hugged them, then went to tell Hanes the good news.

Grigsby started to stand, "Well, I guess I need to check on things..."

"Wait a minute," Whatley said motioning. He leaned over and took a box out of his brief case sitting near his feet. Tossing the box to Grigsby, Whatley continued. "I bought two of these this morning. I gave the other one to your wife."

Grigsby jerked his head up from staring at the cheap phone to lock eyes with his boss. "You gave the other one ... Oh," he finished as his brain took in the implication. "She was emphatic about my not contacting her. I guess she didn't want me pissing off her boyfriend."

"She claims she doesn't have one, and I didn't see any evidence of a man in her apartment."

"How did you find her?"

"She had a land line phone put in. It isn't an unlisted number. She isn't really trying to hide."

"You sure she doesn't have a boyfriend?"

"Matt, she just can't handle the stress. She told me about her dad being killed."

"She was fucking paranoid about me getting hurt..."

"And she didn't have any reason to be?" Whatley said sarcastically, his face grim. "I thought she was going to faint when I told her what really happened at the hospital. And don't look so shocked. Far too many people know about it already. It will out sooner or later, and unless I'm totally wrong, it won't be because of her. She wouldn't give me permission to give you the number from the cell phone I gave her, but I gave her your number. I told her to not call you on your private cell. These people probably have resources to find your cell number and at least be able to locate the cell tower you hit when you use your phone, but there's no way they can find you with those two anonymous phones."

"How much do I owe you..." Grigsby started.

"We'll discuss it later. I also insisted that the two of you have dinner with my wife and me."

"Why are you doing this?" Grigsby quietly asked.

"After what you did for me in that hospital, do you have to ask?"

"I was saving my own ass, too."

"Maybe so, but I am alive today because of what you did. I'll never forget that. I ... just had a talk with her. Might not have accomplished a thing, but then again, I think that just maybe I did. Time will tell. I hope she calls."

The ASAC frowned for a moment, but then his face cleared. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"No you don't," Whatley interrupted. "You'll never owe me one. Oh, yeah, there is one other thing," but he hesitated. "Hmmm. Maybe, on second thought, I'll let your wife tell you about that."

Grigsby raised an eyebrow and said with a sardonic chuckle, "If she calls. And there's very little chance of that. Very damn little."

"Just charge the phone and make sure you leave it on; can't ever tell about women," the SAC finished with a look on his face that Grigsby couldn't interpret.

-------

Jeff sat in one of the hallway alcoves with Susan and Kayla snuggled to him. They had kissed and cuddled for some time. Hope had walked by twice.

"She wants to stop and talk, but she's..."

" ... uncomfortable around me," Jeff finished for her.

"Yeah," Susan agreed, "but she was very interested in what happened during our wedding night."

Jeff grimaced. "Just thinking about your telling her about that is embarrassing."

Kayla tried to tickle him. "Why? All of your wives wanted to hear everything, and Nat, Nicki and Whitney hung on every word."

"Well, I can understand those three. After all, they'll be in that suite tonight, but with Hope being afraid of men ... I don't know; it just seems odd that she would want to hear about..."

" ... about a man making love with his wives on their wedding night," Kayla supplied. "Loving instead of the sex that was forced upon her by arrogant old men who wanted to fuck a child? Her father, damn his soul, who was trying to sell her after he couldn't make her look twelve anymore."

"But, crap, Kayla, she was standing there this morning when you two showed your pussies. They were swollen and looked abused."

"She knew we weren't abused. I'll guarantee you that thought never entered her mind. She's heard too much about you, even before we talked about our wedding night. She hung on every word this morning."

Susan spoke up with, "You should have heard her giggling when we told about holding your cock as you peed."

"Oh, shit," Jeff said, "that's so..."

"Sexy," Susan supplied.

"That's not what I was going to say."

"We know," the women said in unison.

"But men need a little guidance from time to time," Kayla added, laughing at Jeff's expression.

-------

The traditions of the milkshake, being awakened by his Queen, dressed by his mates, and the sendoff of "make me proud" were all scrupulously adhered to. He met his three young brides in the hallway and escorted them into the small dining room. Being served the numerous small servings by their soon-to-be sister-wives obviously touched Nat, Nicki and Whitney.

"I can't believe this is happening," Nat whispered, very tense, as were the other girls.

"You need to back out?" Jeff quietly asked, concerned.

"No," the three instantly replied in unison.

"We've had so many nice things happen to us since you rescued us from that... dungeon. It just seems..."

" ... like a dream," Nicki and Whitney finished for her.

Jeff's expression became serious as he looked at each of them. "This is forever, Ladies. If you have the slightest doubt, now is the time to express it. I can walk in there and..."

Again in perfect unison. "No. Never."

"We're..."

"Just..."

"Uptight," the three said without the slightest bit of hesitation between the words.

At an unspoken agreement, Whitney continued. "As soon as we say 'I do, ' everything will be alright. No, that's wrong. Everything will be perfect," she corrected.

"As we've told you over and over, there were very few good things that happened to us in our whole lives. Heck, we thought a new, half-worn-out pair of jeans that fit reasonably well was a wonderful thing. All this is ... overpowering. It's hard to think it isn't a dream," Nat said.

Nicki continued for them. "We have so many new clothes that it will be weeks before we wear all of them."

"The other day, we saw an advertisement about a new game, and we were just talking about it. The very next day we had it in the game room. We thought Arlene might have ordered it, but later we found out it was Diana who had overnighted it. We wound up having a ball with it as we played with your wives," Nat said. "We love everyone here, and soon all your wives will be our sisters ... our ... sister-wives."

Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa each came in with a tiny bowl of ice cream for the brides and groom to finish off their meal.

Jeff stood and looked at the three one last time before he was to meet them in the living room. "See you in a few minutes, Ladies. I love each of you more than you'll ever know."

-------

Jeff and Diana stood with their backs to the glass wall as they watched Nat, Nicki and Whitney come down the stairs and walk toward the Prime and Queen. In a voice audible only to Diana, Jeff said, "If those smiles are real, they got over being tense."

"All brides have butterflies at some point. I did — both times I married you. I can't wait to hear what they say in the hot tub in the morning," she finished with a pretty smile.

-------

Jeff carried each of his new brides into the bedroom and placed them on the bed. As he stood looking down at the three beautiful young women, he wondered how he was going to do this. He didn't think any of his wives had ever felt slighted, at least he had never heard anything mentioned that might indicate they had. They all got along so well, but he had never had three brides at the same time. Joyce and Caitlin had been lovers, and Susan and Kayla had already slept with him before their wedding night, but with the three orphans' background, he wanted to be certain things went smoothly.

While he stood there, they scrambled out of bed and stood before him. "Stop worrying, Husband," Whitney said, emphasizing the word. "Our Queen gave us some suggestions. So, you undress each of us as we stand here, then we'll undress you."

"Sounds good, Ladies," he said as he tilted Whitney's chin up to kiss her deeply, even as he slowly pulled the zipper down the back of her dress. Shortly, all three stood before him wearing only heels and thigh high hose.

Nat was the last one to be undressed. "We don't wear hose very often. Do you want us to leave them on for a while?"

"That sounds good," Jeff said as they helped him undress.

Nicki dropped to her knees to pull Jeff's shorts down. When the material was pulled past his cock, it sprang up to slap against his belly before rebounding to bob before her. Before he could say anything, she had taken the head of his cock into her mouth.

"Oh, Baby, that feels good," he hissed out.

Nicki sucked on it for ten seconds or so, then the other two had their turns. He would bet that Diana or some of his other wives had coached the girls. The three of them kicked their shoes off and got on the bed, pulling him with them. He had thought that he would kiss each of them, then choose one to begin making love to, starting as he usually did with another kiss, then working his way down their bodies. Somehow, he wound up between Whitney's legs. She quickly guided his face to her pussy and said, "I won the rock, scissors, paper. So I go first, with Nat second and Nicki last this time."

Well, I don't have to worry about who's first,  he thought as he kissed Whitney's pussy, taking in the fresh smell of well-bathed girl pussy. I'm glad I've licked their pussies before, but I worry about how they'll react when I start to put my cock in. Little One assured me that their new hymens would only sting for a moment when I break them. I hope she's right. There's got to be some stress right now as they remember that bastard raping them. They told me it hurt horribly as he rammed into them without first getting them excited. He obviously wanted to force his way into them dry, probably so the sadistic bastard could get off on their pain.

Whitney squealed out an orgasm, her legs slamming into his head as her body trembled all over. He moved higher on her body to mount her. As he reached for his cock to line it up, he felt a hand guide him. His own lubricant mixed with Whitney's as he shoved forward enough to spread her pussy lips. She kissed him hard for a second. "Do me, Husband. I know it's going to hurt, but I want you to take me and make me yours."

Trusting that Little One was right, he pushed forward, stopping as soon as he penetrated Whitney's hymen.

"Ouch," she hissed out as her body tensed up.

Jeff held his cock still as he kissed her eyes, then her mouth. "The pain..." he began.

" ... is gone," she finished for him. "Push it up me. I'm your wife now."

She's tight. Whatever Ingles did to her, she certainly doesn't feel like someone who has had sex before. I guess Little One took care of that aspect as well. If all three of them are this tight, my dick is going to be ready for that sling in the morning.

Finally, he eased his cock forward until it was in as deeply as she could take him. When it touched her cervix, she flinched. "That..." she started, then wiggled her butt to cause her cervix to move against the head of his dick, "hurt to start with but now it ... feels ... good," she finished as she bucked against him.

He locked his mouth to hers, but after a few seconds, she pulled away, gasping for breath and wiggling her ass as she locked her legs higher around his hips, trying to hunch her pussy back at him. "Do me," she squealed out.

Jeff pulled back until the head of his cock was barely in her, and after a moment, slowly pushed forward again. She reminded him of Arlene as she thrashed wildly, fucking her pussy up to him and screaming as her orgasm hit, and the next one and the next. His body began the movement of love, but she was hunching her pussy up to him, three strokes to his one. He became afraid she would injure herself as she rammed up against him causing his dick to slam against her womb. As her orgasms seemed to become one, he tripped her mental switch before she could hurt herself. Ecstasy seemed to pour over her, every nerve in her body awash in the most wonderful feeling in the world. Her body trembled; her eyes opened wide for a second, her mind in overload. She took a shuddering breath ... and fainted.

Nat and Nicki were sitting, each on either side of the couple. "Wow," both said as they stared at each other.

The girls had obviously been coached, because Nat grabbed a washcloth to hurry and dampen it, while Nicki got a dry cloth and a towel.

"I didn't come," Jeff said. "All we need is one to..."

But Nat was already gently wiping Whitney's sweating forehead with the dampened cloth while Nicki waited for Jeff to pull his cock out of the sleeping girl. When he pulled out, Nicki gently wiped Whitney's pussy, then kissed the head of his cock.

"Please lie on your back, Husband," Nat said. "I can't wait any longer."

"Easy, Wife," he said, chuckling. "It might..."

But Nat had lined his cock up with her pussy and without hesitation, dropped. "Ooomph," she said as she hissed in a breath and trembled, his cock wedged into her as far as it would go, jammed against her womb. "That might not have been the brightest idea I've ever had," she whimpered through gritted teeth.

Jeff pulled her a little forward, locking his mouth around a swollen nipple. He sucked while he pulled gently on her other nipple. After a couple minutes, she experimentally moved her groin back and forth a little. "Oh, that feels ... good." Rising up a little, she eased back down. "Oh, my. I feel so full. It ... feels ... sooo goooood," she said, as her voice morphed into a giggle.

Jeff caught her hips in his big hands as he began a gentle thrusting up into her. A look of amazement crossed her face as her first orgasm with a man inside her began. It built to heights she had never imagined. Slowly, it tapered off just as another started to build. She began moving her groin back and forth, interspersed with an occasional rise and fall. Jeff gave up and just held on as her tight pussy milked his cock. She put her head back and screamed as she jammed her pussy down on his cock when the biggest orgasm of her life took her.

Jeff let himself go, washing Nat's womb with his semen, his mind automatically tripping her orgasm switch. Her orgasm seemed to double, the ecstasy beyond imagining, as her world faded away and she collapsed onto his chest.

Nicki was ready with a washcloth as Jeff gently kissed a sleeping Nat and eased his cock out of her. "Oh, wow," Nicki said as Nat's pussy pushed out a big gob of sperm laden semen.

"Let me help," Whitney, now back in the world, said as she took a wet cloth to clean Nat's drooling pussy.

"How do you want to make love?" Jeff asked a few minutes later as he caressed Nicki's face with his fingertips.

Nicki flopped down on her back and held her arms out to Jeff. As he started toward her pussy, Nicki said, "Unh uh. Come up here. Watching you make love to my sisters has me hotter than I've ever been in my life. You've kissed my pussy before; I want you inside me — now. I can't wait any longer."

She grabbed his cock with both hands as he held himself over her. When she nestled the head of his cock into her vulva, she wrapped her legs around his butt. "Kiss me and push, Husband," she said, emphasizing the word.

As his mouth locked to hers, he pushed firmly forward. She squeaked into his mouth and her body went tense. Jeff waited, continuing to kiss her, then dragged his tongue tip across her lips. Hoping she wouldn't bite, he pushed his tongue partway into her mouth and at the same time, pushed his cock into her tight, slick pussy.

She sucked on his tongue as he felt her shiver under him and her legs tighten around his hips. He held for a time with his cock just touching her womb. After a few moments, she pulled her mouth from his. "That smarted, but the pain didn't last long, just like Diana said. Make love to me, and teach me how to make love to you, My Husband. And no matter if I faint or not, please, uh, squirt your sperm into me."

Nicki had been last to receive his cock, but she had obviously intended to get her share. She kept wiggling and thrashing around under him so much that he finally rolled her over so that she would be on top. Her face, breasts and upper chest were flushed pink, and she had already had a half dozen orgasms, but hadn't fainted. On top, she was free to move her body any way she wished. She was moving as fast as Nat had, but other than her labored breathing, and an occasional quiet squeal, she had made very little sound.

Jeff looked into the mirror above him to see Nat on one side of him and Whitney on the other, both grinning up at him as they played with their pussies. He grasped Nicki's hips and began thrusting up into her, overriding her movements with his own. He let his own orgasm build. It was obvious that Nicki could feel the change in his body.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?" she hissed out.

He knew she was, but he asked anyway, "Yeah, I am. You ready?"

"Yesssss," she squealed out as her body locked up and her pussy spasmed.

Jeff let it go, washing her insides with his sperm. She felt his spurts and her quiet squeals became a long, drawn out scream. He caught her and eased her down on his chest. She shuddered once and went into a deep sleep.

-------

Jeff had been a bit anxious about the three with their background of an orphanage, not to mention the kidnapping and rape from the sadistic Ingles. In essence they had been virgins, not just with Little One putting back their hymens, but with their inexperience with true intercourse. Oh, he had made love to them with his mouth and hands before, but he had not penetrated them in any way until tonight. Their enthusiasm and determination reminded him of Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa.

He stood by the bed smiling down at the three girls — no, the three young women. They had given their virginities — for all practical purposes — to their husband this night. He could see the touch of his Queen in their endeavors to please him.

Both Diana and Little One had told him the young women would do well in his "harem." Thinking about the gifts of their hymens brought back thoughts of Ann's armor-plated hymen. Now that was determination. And Arlene, who had locked up with a muscle spasm and scared him half out of his mind.

He remembered the pride on his Queen's face tonight as she blew him a kiss in the hallway before he took his brides into the suite. I'm going to have a serious talk with her. Is all this Diana, or is Little One also involved in my seemingly ever-increasing number of wives?

Like last night with Susan and Kayla, his new wives had decided to shave their pussies. Maybe they think their swollen vulvas will show more after shaving. And ... they certainly do,  he thought as he looked with trepidation at the swelling. Do I dare push my dick in them again before we go to breakfast? I might as well take Little One to the hot tub with them. Pussy cream isn't going to fix this, at least not quickly. My dick is sore. I can't even imagine how sore they will be when they wake up. I wonder if they'll let me jerk off and wipe the come on their pussies, instead of fucking them again. Yeah, right. There's absolutely zero chance of that.

As he eased into bed with them, he checked his mental watch. Two hours. I'll take a nap and awaken them as I promised. I may have to go get Little One before we can finish this wedding night with our tradition.

Jeff set his internal alarm and slept.



-------

Chapter 128


MONDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 27

Jeff awakened his new wives with kisses and gentle nips on their swollen nipples.

Becoming aware of what her husband was doing, Nicki let out a faint moan when, "Oh, wow. Look at my nipples."

"Are they sore?" Jeff asked, as he licked and gently sucked her.

"Nooo," she quietly hissed out, "but they surely are sensitive. I'll give you a week to stop ... that," she sighed as a mini orgasm started her morning.

"And this?" he asked as he slid down and gently swiped his tongue up her swollen vulva.

He got his answer when she grabbed his head and held his face to her pussy. She must be sensitive there, too,  he thought with a grin as she shuddered into orgasm almost immediately.

Nat and Whitney were waiting for their brief pussy licking after Jeff was finished with Nicki. They had already showered twice during the night, and after the ritual of guiding his stream around the toilet bowl in the early morning, they had another quick shower to start their day.

Jeff was the last to dry off, and when he walked back into the bedroom, the three girls were all kneeling in a row near the side of the bed, their pussies raised and their heads on pillows.

"You sure about this, Ladies? Those are some pretty pussies, but they're swollen, and I know they have to be sore — very sore."

Whitney looked back over her shoulder. "Certainly we're sore — and proud of it. Diana says you have an unlimited supply of sperm. Do us one more time so we can prove to our sister-wives that we consummated our marriage."

Jeff was aware that all his wives knew the marriage had been consummated, but going into that kitchen without displaying a sore, drooling pussy obviously wasn't going to happen. On his knees by the bed, he kissed and licked each pussy, then standing, wiped his cock through Nicki's swollen nether lips and gently pushed inside her. There was an intake of breath from her. Feeling like an ass for hurting her, he dumped some pheromones to hopefully help her bypass the discomfort to some extent. After giving her time to get used to him being inside her, he reached around and tweaked her nipples, beginning to make gentle love to her.

-------

Jeff quickly dressed in tee shirt, pants, socks and shoes. The giggling girls helped each other into their wedding dresses while trying to hold the lips of their pussies closed to keep his sperm in. If they were tired from only having a couple of hours sleep, they didn't show it.

Rock, scissors, paper set the order. He picked Nat up and walked down the hall. His weaving path wasn't as straight as it could have been, due to having her mouth glued to his all the way.

As she finally broke the kiss, he opened the door and carried her into the kitchen to immediately notice Hope peeking around the door from the dining room. If Hope is afraid of men, why in the heck is she watching this again? he thought as Nat proudly displayed her swollen and drooling pussy to his wives.

"I'm full of come, but I'm broken," she said, trying to stifle a giggle.

A few minutes later, he had delivered each girl to the kitchen to have them make their declaration of consummation for their wedding night. After carrying them to the hot tub deck, he returned to the kitchen where Laura put his breakfast on the table in front of him.

She was wearing a top made of some clinging material that did a fine job of displaying her breasts, and a pleated, short skirt with matching heels.

"You look nice, My Love."

"Thank you, Husband. We're very proud of you, you know," she said as she plopped down in his lap. She had already cut his steak before putting it, four scrambled eggs, hash browns, a plate of biscuits, butter, a big glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee in front of him. Picking up his fork, she began to feed him, taking an occasional small bite herself.

"You're going to miss the girls' review of our wedding night," he teased.

"Not a chance. They'll be talking about it for days, just as the rest of us did. Besides, we're videoing it as usual."

"Yeah, but you won't let me watch the vids," he complained.

"We will one day. We're just waiting for the right time. You'll see."

Jeff swallowed and let a frown crease his brow for a moment. "They're really swollen. They ... heck, all of you have tried to prove something on our wedding nights. I don't see where pain proves anything..."

"Hush, Lover," she said, touching her lips to his. "I know exactly why they acted the way they did, because I felt the same way myself — still do. Like Di says, just consider it a woman thing. You did your part, and by the way their pussies look, you did it well," she giggled. "But unless they let you use Little One on them sometime today, I suspect they'll settle for a little pussy licking tonight, instead of a good fucking."

"Maybe I need to go get Little One and..."

"Hush," she quietly said, putting a finger against his lips. "You're just being over protective of them because of their background. Di told them that Little One would heal their swollen pussies if they wished, but I'll be amazed if they let her. They serviced their Prime last night, and they are proud of it. We've all been in their position, and as we have said before, a sore pussy after our wedding night is a badge of honor among us. You need to stop worrying about your three new wives. The orphanage and Ingles are but fading memories, and besides, those girls are a lot tougher than you realize. They're your wives now; that will be their main focus — forever."

Laura started to feed him another forkful of scrambled eggs, but stopped the fork just before it reached his mouth. "How's that cock of yours this morning?"

As he started to respond, she shoved the eggs into his mouth, teasing him.

He swallowed the bite and grinned at her. "It was a little sore when I woke up, but it's fine now. Why are you asking, you little minx?"

Laura smiled back at him, refusing to answer, as they continued with their breakfast. When he had consumed everything, she pulled her top above her braless breasts, rose up a little and pushed a nipple into his mouth. When he sucked on the nipple, she grabbed the back of his head with both hands, pulling herself hard against him. Seconds later, she bucked and let out a little squeal, shivered, then relaxed against him.

He shifted to the other breast, which produced the same results a couple of minutes later.

"Somebody I know is fired up this morning," Jeff teased as he kissed her cheek, working around to her mouth where he gently kissed her while she came down from her second orgasm.

"All your wives are 'fired up' this morning," she said, giggling as she snuggled her breasts against his chest and nuzzled his neck.

When he felt her hand pull on his belt buckle, "Selina could come in, or the General and his wives..."

Belt free, she pulled at the fastener on his pants. "Selina has promised to leave immediately should she ever walk in on us while we're making love. The General is 'observing' your team in something they're doing. His wives and their escort left earlier for a shopping trip to Denver. Evie is probably in the hot tub with your wives, or else off somewhere with Dave's other wives, screwing his brains out. I have no idea what Frank and his women are doing."

"Hope..."

" ... was all ears yesterday to hear about Susan's and Kayla's wedding night. She asked Di if she could come back today. For someone who is 'afraid' of men, she's very interested in what happens after the weddings. Maybe she's never been around a man who makes love instead of rapes women. Anyway," she continued as she finally got his zipper open, quickly standing to pull his pants down, "she's probably not going to come in here. And ... if she does — tough. I'm horny and I need my husband to fuck me."

With Jeff's pants and shorts around his ankles, Laura hiked her short skirt above her hips and straddled her mate's legs. She had purposely not worn panties. "Don't be gentle. I'm so wet I'm dripping." With one hand on his cock and the other on his shoulder, she aligned him, wiggled to get the angle right, and slowly sat.

A few hundred feet away in the hot tub, there was a collective sigh from Jeff's wives. "What was that?" Nicki said as her pussy tingled.

Diana chuckled. "Laura said she was going to 'feed' our husband breakfast. Then again, maybe he's feeding her something."

-------

Thirty minutes had passed. Jeff sat dozing at the kitchen table with a sleeping Laura on his lap, his cock still pushed up her. Coming fully awake, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek, remembering their first coupling in the hotel room in Saint Louis. She quietly moaned and her pussy spasmed faintly as she dreamed in her sleep.

He hugged her to him and let his mind drift, similar to the way he did during his morning runs — free associating. Why do I keep thinking about that agent who saved Hope? Whitworth filled me in with updated details, yet I can't seem to get the situation off my mind. With the information we obtained when we interrogated Ingles, I had hopes we would destroy, or at least severely cripple, this slaver organization. From what the General says, we have hurt them, but instead of them pulling back and slowing down their operation until things blow over, they've attacked using a WMD — attacked a hospital. Well, they were obviously after the agent, but they knew there would be many people killed with the nerve gas. Whatever the agent knows, it can't be that important. It's almost as if these assholes are openly challenging the FBI.

Whitworth says there are indications of something big coming up, but he doesn't have any details yet. Crap, why am I worrying about this? Hope is here safe; the agent who saved her is on the mend. He even has two round-the-clock nurses, with doctors on call.

Diana walked in and smiled down at the two. "Even your three new wives felt her last one," she said as she tenderly stroked Laura's hair. She leaned down and kissed the forehead of her handmaiden. "Wake up, Baby. Time to get that very nice plug out of you."

Laura sat up and yawned, a smiled teasing her face as she realized she and her Prime were still attached. The Queen pulled a couple of paper towels off the roll on the counter, handing one to Laura. She stood, lifting her groin free of Jeff's cock, and instantly cupped the paper towel to herself to catch the flood.

Diana started to wipe her husband's cock with the paper towel, but changing her mind when the smell of his semen hit her, leaned over, and cleaned him with her mouth and tongue. His cock, of course, was instantly fully erect. After a few seconds of her ministrations, she sighed, stood and pushed her shorts and panties off, straddling his lap. As she guided his cock to her entrance, Jeff pulled her top above her breasts. She was already leaking milk because of what she had felt when Laura had her last, intense orgasm. Di leaned over and plastered her mouth to her husband's, her body beginning the age-old movements of love.

-------

Helen had given all her students the morning off because of the wedding last night, and the traditional hot tub experience with the new wives this morning. Arlene, Ann, Jennie, Melissa and Hope were headed for the game room after leaving the hot tub. The four wives knew what was going on in the kitchen, of course, but Hope had no clue. Just as they were even with the kitchen door, Hope decided to take a soft drink with her to the game room, and abruptly turned into the kitchen.

"No," Arlene got out a second too late.

Hope took two steps inside the kitchen before she realized that something was going on, and froze. Diana had just slammed her pussy down on Jeff for the last time, and was receiving her reward as she felt his geyser of come fill her with warmth. She could not have stopped, even if she had noticed Hope. And at that moment, she would not have noticed an earthquake. She thrashed on her husband's lap, her swollen breasts spraying fine streams of milk, as she, eyes closed and head leaning back, keened at a frequency and volume that should have shattered crystal.

Laura was sitting halfway down the table, nearing orgasm, her feet propped in another chair as she slowly teased her clit. Jeff was groaning out his climax as his balls empted into his wife.

"Oops," Arlene said, her nipples popping to full length from the scene, the sudden exposure to Jeff's pheromones, and her mother's orgasm.

As Hope spun around to leave, Arlene grabbed her. Hope's face was flushed with embarrassment and the pheromones. Her nipples were grape-sized hard lumps pushing out the material of her top.

"Oh, shit," Laura muttered.

Jeff knew that several of his wives had walked in, and belatedly realized that Hope was with them. Also realizing there was nothing he could do, he just held Diana to him and stroked her back as she came down from the extended orgasm.

"I need to go," Hope got out.

"No," Arlene said, hugging her. "Not yet. Don't leave like this. You've seen sex before. There's no reason to be embarrassed. And ... this isn't just sex; it's love. We all love each other. This is only one of many ways to express that love. This morning and yesterday morning, you heard Dad's new wives tell how he loved them, and you saw how proud they were, and still are. What happened to you was rape. You were forced by your father to have sex with those horrible men — for money. You've heard all of us raving about our husband. Do not put him in a category with those beasts who ... raped you."

"I'm ... uh, not," Hope stumbled to say. "It just ... surprised me."

Diana had sat slumped against her husband, her feelings of bliss interrupted by what had happened. She had enjoyed a wonderful orgasm, and would have been working on her second one by now if Hope hadn't walked in. Shortly the intensity of the continued orgasms would have pushed her mind into overload. Now she struggled to get her faculties about her enough to say something that made sense, and ... while holding her temper in check. She really wanted another orgasm, but because of Hope, it wasn't going to happen.

Hope couldn't really see anything much, other than Diana's nude, flushed breasts. She had Jeff's cock inside her and she was sitting on his lap, so nothing else was readily visible. What they were doing was obvious, of course. The worst thing as far as Diana's befuddled mind could determine was that Hope was embarrassed. Jeff and I have been married almost seventeen years. We make love every night with eleven of us women and our man. Tonight there will be fourteen women in bed with him. Why in the world should I be embarrassed?

Suddenly, the whole thing was funny to the Queen. A small giggle escaped from her, then Laura chuckled as she sat holding the paper towel over her groin.

"Way to go, Mom," Arlene got out as she began laughing.

The laughter caught on. All Jeff's younger wives laughed and shortly Hope, her face still bright red, began to giggle herself.

Arlene looked over at her dad as he sat with her mother on his lap, his cock still buried in her. "I think our General would say something like, 'Carry on, Colonel, '" she said, deepening her voice to try and imitate Whitworth. With that, Arlene ushered Hope out the door, but Diana caught a worried look from Arlene as she glanced back at her parents just as the door closed.

There was quiet in the kitchen for a moment, then Laura chuckled, "Well, that was different."

"Crap," Diana said. "I screwed up. I shouldn't have done that in here. I might have known she would walk in..."

Jeff gently lifted Diana's chin after looking down at their joining. "She's a few days from sixteen, and she's probably had dozens of men — men who didn't care anything about her or even care if they hurt her. You, My Lady, are my wife. We were making love in our home. You have told me that you warned her she might walk in on us sooner or later, and that we would not deliberately make love where she would see us, but neither were we going to restrict ourselves to our bedroom. She didn't even see my dick, and I'm sure that none of you would think a thing about dressing in each other's presence. Let's not make that proverbial mole hill into a mountain."

Diana grinned at her man. "Weeellll, since we're caught anyway..." She moved her groin in a small circle, then rose up a little and dropped. "Oh, that feels nice. Shall we?"

"Damn straight," Jeff laughed as he locked his hands behind her shapely ass and thrust into his wife.

-------

Later in the day as Selina stomped into her bedroom, Billy came bounding over. She picked him up and brought him to her face, touching her nose to his. "Mmeeow," he said, bringing a paw up to gently touch her face with it.

The touch may just have been instinctive because of the way she was holding him, but she chose to think of it as a gesture of love. "I love you too, Billy."

She put him on her shoulder where he locked his claws into her top to hang on. Walking over to the bed, she slipped her shoes off and sat. Billy jumped onto the bed as she lay back against a big pillow. "I'm bored, Little Dude. They have some type of tradition that I have heard vague references to, but they will not allow me to observe. Our Prime carried his brides down the hall, then took them into the kitchen. They did something in there, then he carried them to the deck where the bigger hot tub is located. He didn't remain there with them, but most of the women did. Logically, their topic of discussion must be their wedding night, and of course I am far too young to hear such things, " she said, sarcastically. "They must protect the delicate ears of a mere child," she finished with a snarl. "I have the mind of an adult locked in the body of a child. I fit neither world."

"Mmeeow."

"But I have you; I can communicate with my parents at will, and there is far more to explore here than at home. I attend a fabulous school with a teacher who is as intelligent as I am. In addition, I do not have to pretend to be a child. Now if they would only refrain from treating me as one..."

Billy jumped off the bed, ran to his kennel to get his little plastic mesh ball with the bell inside it, and climbed the spread back to the bed. Bounding over, he dropped the ball on Selina's chest.

"Cats are not supposed to play fetch," she said, tossing the ball toward the far corner of the room.

"Mmeeow," Billy said as he dived off the bed, raced after the bouncing ball when it ricocheted off the door, hit a table leg and changed direction again. The tiny cat leapt high to snatch it out of the air.

"Mmeeow," he mumbled, dashing back across the room with the ball sticking out of the side of his mouth like a multi-striped tumor.

When he jumped on Selina's chest and stared at her, she couldn't keep from laughing. "You are an idiot," she laughed, "and I love you."

"Mmeeow."

"You have such an extensive vocabulary," she teased, "but it is difficult to remain in a bad mood around you."

She grabbed Billy up, the cat still holding the ball, and held him above her head as they stared at each other. "You are..."

The phone rang, interrupting her. "This is Selina," she said into the handset as she put the cat on the bed.

"May I come visit for a moment?"

"Certainly, my Queen. Billy and I are in our bedroom."

Shortly, there was a knock on her door. It opened and Diana walked in with a small bowl in her hand. Selina moved over and Diana sat on the side of the bed. "I had to express my milk this morning, so I saved some for Billy, if you would allow him to have it."

"Certainly."

Billy had already smelled the milk. Ball dropped and forgotten, he jumped into Diana's lap and in his excitement, buried his nose in the milk. As Selina and Diana laughed, he sneezed droplets of milk. When Diana put the cat and bowl of milk on the bed, he lapped hungrily.

"I wish to express my appreciation, my Queen. He condescends to drink the kitten milk I prepare for him, and eats his food, but he by far prefers your milk."

"Or Arlene's, and probably Mom's as well, if she ever lets him have any of it," Diana said, chuckling as they watched the tiny cat rapidly lap the milk.

Selina giggled. "That is correct."

Billy finished the milk, produced a drawn-out belch, and sat back to clean his face, his tiny purr constant.

The Queen and small genius shared a laugh at the kitten's undignified belch. "Mmeeow," he said, looking at them with his head cocked a little to the side, obviously wondering about their laughter.

Diana smiled at Selina. "He's almost as curious as someone else I know." When Selina wrinkled her nose a little, Diana continued, "Arlene and Ann were also very curious little girls. Curiosity that sometimes got them into trouble, even got their rears tanned a time or two."

"You wouldn't..."

"I would, but ... I certainly have had no reason to. I saw you peeking, and there's nothing wrong with that, as long as that is all you do."

Selina's small face sported a frown for a second, "I am aware that something of consequence occurred in the kitchen — both today and yesterday. Our Prime actually carried his new wives down the hall and into the kitchen, then back to the hot tub. It is..."

"Tradition," Diana supplied. "Adult tradition."

"Oh, and since I am a mere child, I am not permitted..."

"Nor is anyone else. It is restricted to our Prime's wives." Then thinking of Hope, "I did permit Hope to stand in the other doorway and watch, but ... there is a special reason for that. Hope has..."

"I am somewhat familiar with Hope's past. Remember, I hear exceptionally well."

"Then you know that Hope is fearful of men after the gunfight in that motel room and all that has happened to her. She asked to watch what we did in the kitchen, and after consideration, I permitted her to do so — from a distance. At least to what happened in the kitchen. I allowed her to sit in the hot tub with us. She has been brutalized by men. Hearing what a real wedding night is like from women who have been loved by their husband is something I hope will help her."

"But I am, however, much too young to hear those adult comments," Selina griped.

Diana let a sigh escape as she took Selina's hand. "We're all well aware of your intellect." As Selina started to say something, Diana hurried on, "and possibly your mind even contains more information than the average, well-educated adult, even at this point in your life. But your body is that of a child — a very pretty one, I might add, but still a child. I cannot allow you to become part of that tradition. It is very explicit and very ... naughty. At least the part in the kitchen is. Also, there are laws that protect children, and although, you doubtlessly have the mind of an adult, experience-wise, you are still a child. As my husband says, experience comes one year at a time. You will be old enough before you know it. What we do in that kitchen at eight o'clock on the morning after our weddings is something that sort of happened almost by accident the first time, but it quickly became one of our weird traditions. Someday, perhaps, you will be part of that tradition, or some other one, when you marry some lucky young man."

Selina didn't say anything and Diana changed tactics slightly. "Imagine what your mother and father would say, and possibly do, if they found out that we allowed you to watch a tradition that is absolutely adult in nature."

Selina moved her hand in a surprising adult gesture as she reluctantly agreed with Diana. "I would never admit to my parents that I saw something that was adult in nature. Nor would I consider discussing something as private as this obviously is with anyone other than your family. I have promised to immediately exit the room should I accidently observe anything of an adult nature occurring. I will adhere to that promise, although I may comply with reluctance."

Diana reached over and pulled Selina to her, hugging the little genius and wondering what it would be like to have a brain like Selina's and have to contend with being treated like a child, even though her brain was far more advanced than the adults who were limiting her.

"I love you, my little darling. I'm sorry we have to — sometimes — restrict your curiosity. Just remember that we all love you."

Selina's mind functioned on several levels at the same time. One part of her mind had been working on a project that Doctor Boswell had suggested/assigned her. Another level was automatically listening to Billy's rough tongue as he licked his feet, causing her to wonder if she should bathe him again. Another part was listening and interacting with her Queen. Suddenly, feeling Diana's love, every part of the young genius' mind riveted on the feeling. Empathy. Is she projecting somehow, or is it me? I'm still feeling her love. I have heard my Prime's wives casually mention this as they talked to each other, but I did not understand that they meant it literally. I will have to research this. My Prime says that Little One is a telepath, and since she is alien, and it was obvious that he could communicate with her, I readily believed, but this is happening to me. Diana and others have told me they always know where the Prime is. They tease him about it. Is this empathy part of the same ability?

I have heard my Prime's wives say short sentences in unison — perfect unison. Also, Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa have chain spoken to him in my presence, but I thought they had prepared their sentence to tease their husband. What if it were not prepared and they really did chain speak without practice? Is it a form of telepathy? They talk to each other. Would they do that if they were telepaths? Empaths?

During my short residence here, I have not heard a single derogatory comment between my Prime's wives. Diana is obviously the Queen, yet she teases and is teased in return by the other wives, even the wives who are not married to her Prime tease and play with her as if they are her equal. My mother and father have disagreements, sometimes loud ones, and from my, admittedly somewhat restricted background, I have noted slight disagreements on a reasonably regular basis between married couples. Yet Diana and my Prime's other wives seem to ... know what the other person is doing or about to do, and seem to never differ in their opinion of what needs to be done. I have noted this is especially prevalent when they work together in the kitchen — and it was also very noticeable when we decorated for the weddings. Odd, now that I think about it, I have recently ... known what I needed to do as we prepared the meals. They have been restrictive about what I am allowed to do to help, but I strongly suspect they are limiting me to tasks that will not put me in danger, or overstress me, due to my small body and limited strength.

It is time I derived a plan to research this projection of love that I feel, and to further investigate the ability of the women to work together so advantageously. I wonder if the ability to speak in unison or chain speak is limited to my Prime's younger wives? Much to do. I am very pleased with this environment. There are many challenges for me here. Since I am already influenced and my judgment probably swayed by incidents that have already happened in my presence, I will fall back on the scientific method as I begin my research.

-------

Jeff and Kayla met Diana in the hallway as she left Selina's suite. "Hi, Gal. We were looking for you. Kayla and I are going over to the ski lodge to be with my team and try out the new camouflage. Please call me if Fred and his women arrive before I get back."

Diana kissed him and swatted him on his butt. "Don't get tired out. You have some chores to take care of tonight."

Jeff grinned at her as Kayla quietly giggled. "That, My Lady, is never a chore."



-------

Chapter 129

Just inside the entrance to the ski lodge, Jeff and Kayla stood talking to Lieutenant Mayfield (the security Lieutenant) and a training Sergeant from the base. To a casual observer, the check-in office of the once ski lodge would not appear to have changed very much. Someone who knew what they were looking for, however, would notice that the profusion of floor to ceiling glass of the office had been replaced with armor glass, and there were now extra monitors behind the counter. The command center was deeper in the building, but even here, there was enough equipment to monitor what went on around the building and the surrounding area. One of the computers maintained room designations, but now it was for Security and the teams. There would be no visiting skiers, but Jeff had been thinking about repairing the slopes so that off duty personnel could ski.

As the four continued chatting, Jeff took a seemingly casual step to the side and quickly put a hand out. Kayla hissed in a breath when there was a deep-voiced curse and the seemingly empty air shimmered for a second to leave General Whitworth standing there glaring at them.

"You can take your hand off my shoulder now, Colonel. I don't think either of our sexual orientations have changed that much," he said in a clipped voice.

Jeff snatched his hand back as if the General's shoulder had suddenly become red hot. Then after a chuckle from everyone for the weak humor, "How in the hell did you do that?" the General demanded with a frown. Without waiting for an answer, he went on, "No one can see us with the camouflage activated. If it were not for the helmets, we wouldn't know where any of us are. You can't even see yourself. It's weird as hell trying to walk around without being able to see any part of your body. You can't even see your hand when you reach out to open a door."

Holding back a grin at the startled General, "I didn't know who it was, General. I must have just heard you, or something," Jeff lied.

Whitworth tried to remember if he had moved just before Jeff reached out. I guess I did move closer to him, but still ... he never ceases to amaze me. We can't even see each other, dammit. Without our helmet's friend or foe capabilities we would be stepping on each other's feet. Well, we would be stepping on them more frequently, he mentally corrected himself. How in the fuck did he know I was standing here?

Jeff wasn't going to tell the General that he could hear his heartbeat and breathing, and Jeff knew the General surely didn't want to know about his stomach and bowel sounds. Telling Whitworth that he (Jeff) had also smelled him surely wouldn't be very tactful, either. The Prime's senses had become so acute that he had complained to Little One and she eventually taught him how to set the threshold level of his senses higher when he wanted to. He loved the fragrances of his women, but a sweating man was bad enough with a normal ability to smell, with Jeff's enhancements, it became something that he didn't want to even think about. Also, he used to love the smells of his wives' perfumes, but with his abilities on maximum, the odors quickly became nauseating. Although he tried to hide it, his wives had somehow picked up on his displeasure and now wore only tiny amounts of perfume. Arlene had kidded him about his sense of smell, teasing him about how pussy must smell with his enhanced abilities. He had quickly assured her that he loved the smell of pussy, even with his senses at their maximum.

Whitworth looked at Jeff, wondering. He always understates — downplays anything he has done. How in the hell did he know I was here? the General asked himself yet again. "As I've already told your team and the training sergeant, I'm not here as a General today, Colonel; I'm here to learn."

The instructor spoke up, "I'm in the process of developing a training program in the use of the camouflage, and I assure you at this point in the program's development, I know very little more than any of you do about the suits. We'll make our mistakes together, then I'll go from there as I begin to design the training program for the other teams."

The General let out another chuckle. "Well, from what I've experienced in the short time I have had the camouflage on, it will take a while to get used to it, and I'm certainly not there yet. I almost busted my ass walking down a flight of stairs. Simple things become frustrating — at least to me. Even with the helmets, when we're in close proximity to each other, we tend to bump our buddy or step on someone's feet. The scale on our faceplates shows us together if we're closer than five feet. In other words, with the camouflage activated you can't tell if your buddy is five feet from you or practically touching your shoulder — or walking into you."

When conversation lagged for a moment the instructor said, "We have equipment ready for the two of you, Colonel."

"Sounds like we're going to have an interesting day. Lead on, Sergeant."

-------

The camouflage consisted of a thin, very stretchy mesh not unlike a fish net. Each tendril of the material was hair thin and stretchy — extremely stretchy, and very tough. The electronics were built into the mesh itself. Getting into the suit was accomplished in generally the same manner that a diver would don a wet suit, except it was more difficult and required a second person to secure the seam in the back and make the connections. By the time the suit was in place, the hatchwork of the mesh had stretched to approximately a half inch.

Walking in the suit produced an odd sensation as the hair-thin mesh stretched and relaxed. It wasn't exactly cumbersome or uncomfortable; it was just — different. Each weapon or piece of equipment the trooper wore had its own specially designed smaller piece of mesh. A helmet software update was the first thing on the agenda in order for the various pieces of equipment and the wearer's suit to be controlled properly by the helmet.

Although the General and several of the troopers had been "playing around" with the camouflage for a while, class officially started with a lecture on how to put on the camouflage, shortly accompanied by five practice sessions which proved there were quirks to be learned. The instructor turned the lights out and they did it again — well, sort of. Jeff, frustrated, fumbled for the two small openings for his feet in the fist-sized wad of mesh that reminded him more of a clumped piece of spider web than anything else. Those two tiny openings that expanded to accept his feet were devilishly hard to find in the dark, but he refused to use his enhanced vision to cheat.

Minutes later, the instructor turned the lights on after Kayla keyed the channel and announced she was ready. Jeff had managed to get his feet in, but was having difficulty pulling the suit up his torso, mainly because he had it on backward. Kayla not only had the suit on, but she had also correctly put the camouflage on all her equipment and activated the suit to turn the equipment and her invisible. With a shimmer, she again stood visible before them as she tried unsuccessfully to hold back a grin.

"How in the world did you manage to get it on that fast, let alone get it fastened and the connections secured in the back?" Carter blurted out.

"Bras," Kayla replied with a chuckle.

There was a snigger or two from the women in the unit, then the General burst out with a guffaw. Turning to Jeff who now had the suit turned around correctly but was stymied by the connection on the back, "Maybe she can help you practice that at home," Whitworth said.

"What? How to put on a bra?" someone sniggered from the back.

The General thought that was really funny.

When the laughter died down, Jeff didn't feel too bad about not getting his suit on in the dark. Two of his team were barely past getting their feet started. Another one did have the suit on and fastened, but he had not gotten around to any of his equipment yet. The two who were behind hadn't tried to put theirs on backward like he had, though.

"Alright," the instructor said, "Let's start all over again, but this time we'll use the light enhancement of our helmets. I just wanted to make a point about trying to put the suit on in the dark. There are problems with the camouflage that we've encountered so far, and probably other things that we'll find later on — hopefully not in a combat situation, though." Turning back to Kayla, "Lieutenant Fisher, well done, Ma'am. Later today, I would like for you to demonstrate your technique for us, if you don't mind."

"I'll be glad to, Sergeant."

Later, fully suited up, their first exercise was outside in the snow. Even though they couldn't see each other, their footprints and other impressions (putting a knee down, etc.) certainly showed up in the deep snow. With the friend or foe function of the helmets turned off, it was as if each trooper were alone on the mountainside. Being alone with multiple footprints suddenly appearing in the snow, produced a truly eerie effect.

-------

After a quick meal, they continued their training inside. Kayla bumped hard into one of the team as they practiced building entry. Most of the time, the team could all go through a doorway in seconds without running into each other. With everyone invisible, they somehow still managed it. Kayla's frustration was beginning to show after she bumped into a trooper again on the next entry, causing both of them to stumble.

"Damn," she muttered, "I feel like a klutz."

"It's training," the team Sergeant said a moment later as they turned the camouflage off. "We've done this hundreds of times. We can't see each other with the camouflage activated, but we still have all those training entries to fall back on, not to mention the real entries. We know what our teammates are going to do. Tell you what. You continue to come through last. I'll have the person in front of you give you a nudge on the radio to key you when to go. We'll see how that works. And remember, Lieutenant, you don't have to do this. You're the Colonel's personal security. This is an off-world team. The best off-world team there is," he finished, proudly.

Kayla smiled and agreed with the Sergeant. I know he's right. I just don't have the training. My husband would never let me go off-world on one of the team's missions, anyway. He would think it was too dangerous to let one of his wives go. But I'm going to train with these people every chance I get. If my husband goes off-world with them again, he's going to be in for a shock when he tries to keep me home.

Next came weapons. The training Sergeant, never having been to the Security team's outdoor range, had one of the Security Sergeants lead them. Following a well-beaten path through the deep snow, they wound up at the base of a small canyon on the mountainside. At some point in the distant past, a section of the mountain had broken loose, the area sliding down the mountain for a couple of hundred feet or so. The result was a fairly level fissure two hundred feet wide perpendicular to the slope of the mountain, a quarter of a mile long and approximately one hundred feet deep on one end, sloping to twenty-five feet on the other end. Dave's crew had cut rough steps in the frozen ground on the shallow end to provide easier access. The result was a nice place for a medium length rifle range. The range was well hidden in the wilds of the mountainside, and the depth of the fissure helped to muffle the sound of the gunfire.

Firing a weapon they couldn't see was more than a bit strange for everyone. The laser sights generally solved that problem, particularly for close-in work. Out past a hundred meters or so, the laser dot became too hard to see in the daylight. Still, the initial alignment of the invisible weapon was difficult, but once a trooper could see his or her laser dot somewhere on the target, it was easy to refine the alignment to go for a center of mass shot, or a headshot.

Once they switched to the pulse rifles, things became eerie again. Firing an invisible weapon that produced practically no sound, yet devastated the target, was odd.

They spent the rest of the day on the firing range, practicing. Since acquiring the target was the most difficult thing because they could not see what they were pointing, the training Sergeant focused their practice on snapping the weapon up, finding the target and firing. Kayla had been accustomed to a good showing on the range. She wasn't as good as Jeff's team, but she had a talent and knew it. Unfortunately for her, experience was something she didn't have, and the team did. No matter how hard she tried, every member of the team did better, and much faster, plus, they seemed to do it with ease.

Her frustration built. As the Sergeant called out the lapsed times, and Kayla muttered a curse under her breath, she felt her husband's hands come down gently on her shoulders as he stood close behind her. She felt his breath on her ear as he quietly spoke. "Baby, the team has thousands of hours of practice, and most of the members have been on the team for years. They're the best of the best or they wouldn't be here. For some of us, someone getting off a shot before our enemy did is the sole reason we're here today. Reaction time with your weapon is a lot like practicing blocks in a martial arts class. You practice a particular block thousands of times while your partner throws punches at you. After a while, that pathway is 'burned' into your brain until you don't have to think about the block, it just becomes reflex. You're still at the point of having to think before you bring the weapon up and acquire the target. A few more hundred hours and it will start to be reflex. The team isn't thinking; they're reacting. And before you even mention, it, they're well aware of where you are in your training. They won't belittle you, not even in their minds. They've been where you are now. Just relax and let your mind go blank. Don't try to anticipate when the target will appear. When it does, snap your weapon up and fire. One day you will realize that the reflex is there. I promise."

The targets popped up again. Kayla snapped her weapon up, acquired the target and fired — last. When the frustration hit, she thought of the man she loved — the man she respected beyond the ability to explain. She fought the frustration down, relaxed and let her mind go blank. The targets popped up again. She snapped her weapon up, acquired the target and fired — last.

NURSES' HOME, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Grigsby had just stepped out on the back porch of the nurses' home when his new phone rang. As he fumbled it out of his pocket, he tried to keep from getting his hopes up. Probably some damn Telemarketing Company with a computer dialing numbers until someone answers. When he opened the phone, the screen only showed ATLANTA CALLER. No ID or phone number came up.

Instead of answering with his last name as he would on his other personal cell, or his agency phone, he just said, "Hello."

"Matt?"

Suddenly, the man who hadn't hesitated to draw his weapon and put a .40 caliber round into an assassin's head, stumbled in his thought processes. "Uh ... hey, Court, uh ... Courtney." Well, that was just fucking brilliant,  he thought as he tried to clear his suddenly clogged throat.

"You busy?" she asked, her tone devoid of inflection.

"Uh ... no, no. I can talk," he said as he sat down on the side of the porch a lot harder than he meant to, his feet on the ground and his rear on the edge of the porch. "I can talk, Baby," he quietly repeated as he looked out into the back yard, the sight barely registering on his mind.

"I'm not your 'Baby' anymore, am I Matt?" Her voice was flat — emotionless.

"Is there another man?" Grigsby blurted before the thought even registered on his mind that he was going to ask. The question was barely above a whisper.

There was a hesitation, but as Grigsby opened his mouth to say he knew not what, Courtney answered, "Matt, you know me better than that."

"Court, I must not know you at all. I had no idea you were going to leave me. You could not imagine how hard it was for me to sign those divorce papers. Hell, I didn't even read them. I just ... couldn't. Your lawyer tried to explain them to me. I still can't believe ... Did he file them?"

"Matt, I..." Her voice trailed off, then after a moment, there was a choked-off sob.

"There really isn't anyone else?" Grigsby said.

There was a long hesitation as the sobs continued. "No," she finally whispered into the phone.

"Then why..."

"You know why," she got out. "I was coming apart when you were out at night. If the phone rang ... I was so scared."

"You should have talked to me before you left. We could have worked..."

"I did talk to you," she broke in, "but you didn't listen. You just said you weren't in any danger and nothing was going to happen to you. Even when that bitch shot you, you wouldn't tell me the details. At least you did call me from the hospital and I didn't have to hear about it by one of your buddies knocking on my door. I would have died right there."

"Baby, look, I know that your father being killed destroyed your mom's life. We've discussed this before..."

"No," she said with what Matt thought was a hiccup.

"No?" he questioned aloud. No what? he wondered.

"No, the attorney is still holding them. I was going to have him file the papers when I leave."

"Oh, I thought..." then it hit him. "Leave?" he hissed out. "You're going to leave? Leave the area?"

"As soon as I save up a little more money. The cost of living..."

"Where?" he got out past a lump in his throat that seemed to be getting bigger. "Where are you going?"

"West coast, probably. The company has satellites and affiliates all over. My boss said I could probably get a transfer."

"Don't Court. Please ... don't. We can work this out. We can go to counseling. We..."

"And so all of a sudden, you can talk about what you do?" Courtney returned, her voice becoming hard.

"Well ... not in detail. You know that. Look, Baby. I've tried to read you the statistics. My job is one hell of a lot safer than a cop's, particularly a street cop..."

"But you're always there when bad things happen. It's as if you know when something bad is going down and you're almost always there with your agents when it does. You're right there in the thick of things, virtually every time, aren't you?" she hissed out.

"Baby, I..."

"You know I'm right, Matt."

"Look, Hon, it just seems that way because you're so worried about me. And other than being shot in the leg and maybe getting skinned up on occasion, nothing has happened to me."

"Listen to yourself, Matt. Just listen to yourself. It's just a matter of time..." She cut the sentence off and quietly sobbed for a while.

Grigsby continued to try to logic her out of her depression, but she interrupted him. "Cut the bullshit, Matt. This is Courtney, remember? I will not go through what my mother did." She was quiet for a moment while both of them thought. "But ... there's one hope for us," she said so quietly that Grigsby pushed the phone hard against his ear to hear better. "After you're promoted, your job description will change. You will be in the office most of the time ... We might work it out then."

Grigsby's mind tried to unravel what she was talking about. He knew he was eligible for promotion, of course. But there was a small number of SACs throughout the country, and when there was an opening due to a promotion or a retirement, there were many ASACs to choose from to fill the position. Most would never make SAC. He tried to tell her so. "Baby, there isn't much chance of a promotion for me. Heck, two of the other ASACs here in the Atlanta office have more seniority than I do. I've completed each assignment that I've been given to the absolute best of my ability, but there's no use getting your hopes up about a promotion. It isn't very likely to happen, and even if it does, it will be years in the future."

"You really don't know, do you?" she quietly said, her voice calmer, but still weak.

"Know what, Baby? Did Whatley tell you something? What's going on?"

"Bye Matt. Don't you get your ass killed. Promise me."

"Baby, I..." But she had hung up.

Grigsby sat there on the porch for a while just looking out into the yard. Standing, he walked aimlessly around as his mind chewed over what she had said. Stopping by the overgrown hedge, he pushed some of the limbs aside to look out at the open area that extended for a block or so on the north side of the property. Tall grass and weeds, with a few bushes, covered the area. I've got to get my mind on what we're doing. I can't keep thinking about her. How could I fall so deeply in love with someone who claims she loves me but won't stay with me? Dammit, I miss her.

I wonder if Whatley really told her I was going to be promoted? Where would they send me if — and that's a big if — they promote me. Fuck, I'm not even sure I want the promotion. I love what I'm doing. I would damn sure love it more with my wife with me, though.

Get your mind back on what's going on here. Something is going to happen. I can feel it. What have I not done? What do I need to do that I haven't already considered? Whatley gave me basically carte blanche authority over this, and he says he can't think of anything else that I haven't already covered. But something doesn't feel right. Something is wrong. Shit!

-------

Two men, one in his sixties, the other mid forties, greeted each other in a plush office deep inside a massive, elaborate home. This was the owner's inner sanctum. He had another office in the house where he spent some small amount of time in meetings with various officials, and conducting his "public" business. He had been referred to as a "pillar" of the community, mainly because he had donated large amounts of money to the local hospital and several high-profile charity organizations. Everyone in the community knew that he was a wealthy man, but few, if any, had an idea how really wealthy he was. He didn't appear in any of the lists of extremely wealthy individuals on various web sites on the Internet as most of the truly wealthy people did. Things of that nature were beneath him, and certainly not conducive to his activities. Not only did he shun having his name show up on any of those lists, he spent a lot of money in an effort to stay off any such lists.

He was old money — very old money. He had expanded the empire handed down to him until he owned, or owned interest in, many very large and profitable enterprises throughout the world, but his ownership and interests in the myriad enterprises were buried beneath layers of legal facade. Someone digging for his name would have to dig deeply, indeed. Most of those enterprises were actually legal businesses, albeit a lot of his money either passed through or was laundered in those businesses before going into accounts in many countries. Some of the enterprises, however, were not legal in any sense of the word, despite their officious-sounding names.

He owned several thousand acres just outside a small northwestern town, and provided jobs for dozens of people to maintain his cattle ranch and farm, and to keep his property looking storybook perfect. His private airfield was located to the north of his home, but still well within the boundary lines of his property. Twenty central acres were fenced with a high, but elegant-looking rock fence, the house in the center. Uniformed guards patrolled the perimeter. Those visible guards were only a small portion of his defenses. Most defenses were hidden, and the absolute latest in technology. He hired only the best people to operate his defenses, and he bought their loyalty, both with money and ... coercion.

The owner made no effort to stand as the younger man came in.

"Sir, we've had a breakthrough," the younger of the two men said as he was motioned to a seat.

"Are you certain you've found them?"

"No. There's no way to be certain at this point, but I feel strongly that we have."

"How?" the older man said as he again motioned, this time for the younger man to pour his boss's favorite drink.

"Satellite imagery," the younger said as he got up to walk to the elegant wet bar. "We failed to put trackers on their vehicles. Well, we did manage to put one on, but they found it on a check. They are using many different vehicles, and they move through a seemingly random route each time. We did manage to track several of their vehicles from FBI headquarters in Atlanta, but they lost us every time. They frequently change vehicles mid-route, or like I said, they find our trackers, or don't give us an opportunity to attach them."

The younger man handed the older his drink, and returned to his seat with a sigh. He had not been invited to drink, so he had not poured anything for himself. He also knew his boss well enough to know that he would require details about the operation. Crossing his legs, he strove to look confident. "When we tried to track their vehicles with satellite imagery, it never seemed to work. They would drive through an Interstate underpass, but would stop under the underpass and wait until the satellite was out of the area before moving on. Sometimes, they would make a U-turn and come back out of the underpass in the opposite direction. They also used parking decks and alleys near tall buildings to break the computer's lock on their vehicles.

"Finally, we had two satellites close enough together that the computer could maintain a lock until they came out of hiding and continued on their way. We tracked the vehicle to a location just outside the city. We lost satellite imagery at that point, but another one will be in position soon. We, of course, are not positive that the vehicle we wound up with is the original vehicle, but there is a reasonable amount of certainty that it is. By knowing that this is the probable destination, it will be much easier to track the next vehicle. But one would assume that they would now have their personnel and supplies moved in, and indeed, there should shortly be far less movement. However, I have sent personnel to check out the location. We should know shortly if this is where they have hidden the agent."

"What about our diversion assets? Has the FBI taken the bait?"

"We don't have enough information to know absolutely, but we do know that the diversion assets are being watched, and it is also highly unlikely that the FBI has discovered our real assets. If this is the location where they have hidden the agent, we can bring the true assets together in less than a day."

The older man glared at the younger. "Our assets better understand that I want this to be a devastating attack — everything destroyed in minutes. And I mean totally destroyed. I also want the FBI to understand what the results will be if they try to infiltrate our organization in the future. Many agents will die, and there will be considerable collateral damage, as the military is so fond of calling dead citizens. It was a fluke that their agent saw me, and I need him dead before they can realize who I am. Don't fuck this up. I want him dead, and I want him dead soon."

"As soon as we're sure this is the correct location, I'll have the real assets started in that direction."

The older man snapped his head up to lock eyes with the younger, "Start them now. If the location turns out to be bogus, you can divert them to a holding pattern."

"Understood," the younger man said as he came to his feet, obviously dismissed as the other turned to his computer screen.

Seconds later, the younger man quietly closed the massive oak door behind him, feeling a drop of sweat run down the center of his back. Slipping an antacid tablet into his mouth, he hurried to his own office.



-------

Chapter 130

Jeff hit the remote for the outside garage door and sneaked a peek at his pretty, new wife sitting beside him. Her figure was muffled by the all-weather uniform, and from the side, he could not see all her face because of the helmet — a true battle helmet that she was very proud of. But even with the partial view of Kayla's face, he could see fatigue, disappointment and worry there.

When they were inside the garage, he put the vehicle in Park and shut off the motor of the Expedition. Reaching over, he touched her arm just as she started to open the door. "Kayla, let it go, Baby. You're just starting out, but you're already trying to compete with the best. You told me yourself what you had heard about my team. These people do this for a living. They're the best and they've worked hard for a very long time to be the best."

"Dammit, I'm good with a rifle," she groused out. "Well, at least I thought I was until today. I can hold my own at slow fire, but they make me look like an idiot at 'snap and destroy' or whatever the Sergeant calls it. By the time I realize the target has popped up, they will have already fired. And they never miss. How can they fire so quickly? Until today, I thought I had fast reflexes. They make me look like a tottering old lady compared to them."

"Look, Baby, I told you they would never have even gotten to try out for the team unless they were exceptional. Once you have developed your reflex shooting, your times will be every bit as good as theirs."

With an abrupt change of subject that seemed to Jeff to be a female trait, "You held back, didn't you?"

"Kayla..."

"You shot just as well as they did, but you could have done better — a lot better. The Sergeant kept looking at you and smiling when he thought you weren't looking at him. He knew you were holding back — and so did everyone else."

"Maybe just a little," he sighed.

"Bullshit," she said as she turned to grab his face and kiss him, managing to get her face next to his despite the helmets. "Diana and Laura were talking about your drawing and firing back in the summer. You're going to have to do that for me. Heck, all your new wives haven't seen you do it, either. I want to see what my man can really do. Besides, Carter told me you were just 'coasting' on the range today. He said we wouldn't even be able to see you raise the rifle to fire if you went full speed. That's basically what Diana and Laura said, too. I want to see you shoot like that."

"Okay, Baby. We'll do it one of these days..."

"Also," she said, interrupting, "my pussy feels like she's well. Time for another shot of happy juice," she giggled, getting out of the SUV, her mood suddenly lightening.

Jeff exited on his side and the two met behind the vehicle. As they stepped out of the garage, Kayla motioned to Carla's truck parked near the back door of the Retreat. "If they happen to be in the hall, they're going to see our uniforms and gear," she said.

"I am planning to use the block on them tonight, anyway. I know Fred will allow it, and if he does, so will his women. We'll go on to our suite, shower and change. If they see the gear, so be it. They're going to know everything before bedtime, anyway."

They didn't meet anyone in the hall. In the shower a few minutes later, they quickly soaped each other up. Kayla's hands strayed to Jeff's cock, holding it with both hands as Jeff said, "Don't start something unless..."

But she had dropped to her knees and popped the head of his dick into her mouth. After a couple of minutes of sucking, and playing with his balls, Kayla stood. "Let's get dried off. I want that thing in me. I'm so..."

Jeff picked her up and pressed her back against the wall of the shower, running a hand under her hips for support. Kayla put both arms around his neck, pulling up a little more to lock her legs about his waist. Reaching a hand down, she guided his cock to her entrance.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit," she moaned as she let her weight down, joining them completely. "I'm still a bit tender."

"We can do this later," Jeff reasoned.

"No way. Fuck me, Husband."

Jeff started to gently move his cock back and forth, but she shook her head. "I've been horny all day, Jeff. Fuck me!"

Jeff didn't need any more encouragement; he was just as horny as she was. He put both hands under her pretty ass and began to pound her. "Don't ... hold ... back," she huffed out between strokes as his cock slammed into her. "Just come when you can. I'll come when you do; I'm sorer than I thought I was."

Kayla's breasts bounced as Jeff slammed into his new wife. She came twice in rapid succession before Jeff got out through gritted teeth. "Here it comes, Baby."

He slammed in and held, his cock pulsing semen into her pussy. She screamed loudly enough that the shower seemed to ring with her voice. Jeff held hard against her, washing her womb with his spend as she wiggled her groin against him.

He didn't trip her switch, knowing that supper would be ready soon, but just held her to him for a time. When she released her grip with her legs, he eased her into a standing position, his half-hard cock slipping out. Nodding to the globs of semen sliding out of her pussy, she giggled and squeezed her internal muscles to push out another big glob of sperm to plop on the floor, the water from the shower quickly washing it down the drain.

As she started to wash his groin again, Jeff grabbed the soap. "If you do that, we'll never get out of here," he laughed.

Kayla rolled her lower lip out in a pout, but laughed and quickly washed her own groin as Jeff cleaned himself.

-------

All the family was at supper, with the exception of Alesha and Jesse (the deputy who had helped to save Joyce).

Introductions were over for those who were new.

"Did you enjoy your shower?" Arlene whispered in Kayla's ear as they stood near the table.

When Kayla's face flushed, Ann bumped her with a hip as she walked past. "Tell her you can take a 'shower' any time you want to now that you're wearing his ring."

Arlene hugged Kayla. "Fun, isn't it?" Arlene giggled as they both sat at the table.

"You bet," Kayla whispered back. "But I'm still a little sore from night before last."

"Get Dad to ask Little One to fix you. He won't mind."

Kayla thought for a second. "Somehow I don't want to. I want to remember my — our — wedding night."

It was serve-yourself-at-the-bar night. When everyone was at the table with their food, Jeff gave their traditional short prayer of thanks. Presently there was the buzz of multiple conversations going on at the same time.

Diana raised her voice somewhat. "Audrey, please tell us about yourself. If I remember our conversation correctly, didn't you own an RV park before you met that handsome guy beside you?"

When Audrey had told how she met Fred, Carla and Jessica, and all the comments were over, the meal was almost finished as well.

With all the women to help, the washers were chugging away in short order. The General, seeming preoccupied, and maybe a little worried, left for his suite with his women beside him. By consensus, the other family groups left for their own quarters, leaving the Matthews alone with their guests.

A few minutes later, Jeff's family and Fred's family were in the living room. With a serving cart nearby bearing soft drinks and coffee, they pushed chairs and couches into a big circle near the fireplace. After chatting for a while, Diana looked over at Brenda. I was never around her much, but it still seems odd to know that's Brenda sitting there, but in the body of someone I've never seen before. She's young and pretty, though. Aloud, "We've heard bits and pieces of your story, Brenda. What we got from the phone conversations was truly amazing, but we would like to hear the whole story from beginning until now. Could you please tell us everything?"

Fred, Brenda, Carla, Jessica and Audrey were sitting on a couch. Fred put his arm around Brenda and hugged her tight. Brenda smiled and looked up at him.

Diana, suddenly worried that she had overstepped, "Uh, I'm sorry. If you don't feel comfortable..."

"No. No. It's fine," Brenda broke in. "It just feels so odd when I talk about it. It's almost like some B-grade movie plot, or something. But it happened. I don't know why. We've speculated that I somehow died before my time, but that's just us guessing. We have no real proof. There's one thing for certain, though. I do not ever want to visit my grave again. I was hitchhiking in Fred's mind when we went there..." She paused for a moment, then continued with a shudder, "There is no way to describe the feeling that visit produced."

Brenda held an arm out. "Goosebumps, already, just mentioning that graveyard. And before you ask about memories from the previous ... owner. The first days were really odd until I got all my ... circuits as I call them, straightened out. Occasionally, I'll still do something that feels wrong, like which foot I place on a step first. I think I must have generally put my right foot first in my old body, but it feels like I should put the left one first in this body — things like that. Things that you don't even realize that you do a certain way just feel ... different.

"But as far as I can tell, I'm healthy, and I feel absolutely great. The old Brenda was getting a little long in the tooth, but this body is young and full of energy. Thanks to what you did, Jeff, my husband is also young again."

"So tell us the story, beginning with the wreck. We want to hear everything."

-------

Later, Kayla sat snuggled against Jeff's shoulder, tired from her long and trying day. Jeff caught Fred's eyes. "Much has happened since you left on your trip. Most of those things I can't really tell you about unless you do something for me."

Fred raised an eyebrow.

"I need to get you and each of your mates to do this on faith. I give you my word that the process is safe."

Fred shifted on the couch, reacting to the tone of Jeff's voice. "Buddy, you know I'll do anything in my power. You name it; I'll do it. Is something wrong?"

Jeff chuckled. "I appreciate that, but no, there's nothing wrong, just a ... process that needs to be done."

"The word of a Prime..." Fred said as he started to tease, but he saw the look on Jeff's face and knew said Prime was dead serious. Fred changed the tone of his voice, "The word of my longtime friend is more than enough for us. Name it."

Jeff nodded to Arlene and she pushed a cart bearing the blocking equipment over to them. "This equipment will cause a mental block to form in your mind. The block can't be felt; hundreds of people at the base have used it. It will only keep you from discussing with outsiders the things that we're going to discuss here tonight, and also what I'm about to show you. Everyone here at the retreat has had the equipment used on them. The block is unnoticeable unless you try to discuss the things I'm going to tell you about with someone not blocked. You will become increasingly nauseated if you persevere. The more you push, the worse the nausea will become until you pass out. Trust me, it is not an experience you would ever want to have. As long as you don't try to go outside the guidelines I've mentioned, you will never know the block is there."

"That helmet thing does that?" Fred said, motioning toward the helmet on the cart.

"Yep, only takes a few minutes."

"Does it hurt?" Jessica asked.

"No," Arlene laughed, "you won't feel anything at all. You'll just take a little nap."

Selina, who had been sitting quietly, chose that moment to say, "It is sufficiently safe for a child's mind." The Matthews knew what her grin meant, but Fred's group had no clue.

"This little twerp is a genius like Helen," Jeff said as he pulled Selina onto his lap and tickled her. "She's messing with you. She is, indeed, a child, but her mind isn't."

Carla grinned at Selina then turned to Jeff, "So you have secrets to tell us, if we accept this block thing?"

Fred looked at his women.

"If you want us to, we'll do it," Carla said after glancing at her sister-mates. "I for one want to hear all about this."

There was a chorus of, "Me too," from the others.

Fred's attention was fully on the odd helmet sitting on the cart. "You heard the ladies. I'll go first."

Standing after Selina slid off of his lap, Jeff motioned to a recliner. "Sit there, please, and move the back to a half-reclining position."

As soon as Fred's eyes closed, Diana stood. "I'm tired of coffee and soft drinks. Anyone want a cup of hot chocolate?"

Fred's women didn't answer, but sat staring worriedly at Fred. Diana chuckled. "Well, while Fred takes a nap, I'm going to make some hot chocolate, anyway."

"I'll assist you," Selina said, running after Diana.

Shortly, Selina and Diana were in the kitchen. "I know where it is kept," Selina said as she pushed a chair over to the counter, then hopped on the chair so she could reach the cabinet.

As they went about fixing the hot chocolate, Selina said in a worried tone, "Kayla is sitting on the couch asleep, despite all the conversation. She..."

"Has had a rough day," Diana injected. "A stressful day, according to my husband. I suspect she isn't used to being last in any competition she has ever been involved in. I think her ego got spanked a little. She is so serious about being Jeff's 'last line of defense.' Today, she was shown she had a lot to learn about offense, and Jeff worries that she had her ego tromped on. Also, she and my husband, uh ... made love when they got back and she's..."

"Sleepy as a result," Selina supplied.

Diana knew she was blushing. Why did I say that? she questioned herself.

Selina stood, hands on hips, looking up at Diana. "I will remind you, my Queen, I am aware of sex, and I apprehend that it is an integral component of the relationship between our Prime and his wives. You have no cause to be embarrassed. I also am aware that you did not visit your suite after the two of them returned. I did not hear Kayla or our Prime mention their sexual encounter. How do you know it occurred?"

Diana got out two large carafes and proceeded to pour the hot chocolate into them. "This is a subject that I'm uncomfortable discussing with you."

Selina refrained from stamping her foot — barely. "How am I to understand things when I am treated as a child? How am I to investigate this phenomenon that you and your sister-wives exhibit? How could you be cognizant that Kayla and our Prime had had sex? I also heard Arlene's inference in regard to it. How did you know? Please tell me," she repeated

Diana put the carafes on a serving cart as she frowned.

"My Queen, I am not a child, despite..."

"Yes, you are," Diana responded, but a smile twitched the corners of her mouth. Frustrated, she unconsciously put her hands on her hips much as Selina had a few minutes ago. "Selina, this is an adult subject..."

"Please, my Queen. I was just beginning my research into the seeming ability of our Prime's wives to be aware of his location at all times. Is this ability to know when he has sex a subset of the ability to know his location?"

Diana sighed. "Baby, we don't fully understand, either, but..." She hesitated for a second, then made up her mind. "To some degree, we feel what the woman feels when she is making love — particularly when she orgasms. The ability is becoming stronger. I can sometimes 'feel' my husband and on occasion even get an idea of what he is doing. There is a 'bond' between my sisters and me that we don't fully understand. If we are touching when he..." Diana's face blazed for a second. "We will discuss this more later on. I first want to speak with Helen before I go further."

"But I need to expand my knowledge on the subject..."

"Not now, Selina," Diana interrupted. "I realize you are driven by your curiosity to learn, but I want to think about how to best discuss this with you. I need input from my sister wives, also."

"But..."

Diana leaned over and kissed Selina on the forehead. "You'll learn more if you don't push about this. This is a very private thing..."

"An adult subject," Selina groused. When she saw Diana frown, the little genius quickly added, "I hope that you will decide to inform me on this subject in the near future, My Queen. I apologize for my insistence."

Diana tossed a roll of Styrofoam cups onto the cart, not wanting to wash a bunch of cups later on. Selina didn't qualify her apology with a "but." She knew just when to stop pushing. How do I discuss our feelings as our husband makes love to another wife? I need to sit down with Helen and decide just how much we tell Selina. Crap, maybe we should have limited her Internet access. Yeah, right. As if that would work with her. Her parents thought they had that covered. Selina said it took only a short while to get past the program that blocked various websites.

-------

When Jessica joined the rest of her family on the couch, Jeff pulled his collar aside and Little One flowed onto his shoulder. He gently cradled her in his hands and held her a little in front of him. "Meet Little One. She's the reason Diana, Helen and I, along with the others, now all look so much younger, and the reason Fred looks young and buff, not to mention Carla's and Jessica's youth and beauty. Of course you were already young, Jessica, but you will stay that way indefinitely because Little One has already enhanced you. She is the reason the three of you felt so good after staying the night here before. We'll all live a very long time — barring accidents or violence."

"Is it alive?" Jessica said, staring.

"She," Jeff inserted.

"Is she alive?" Jessica corrected.

"She's alien life. An alien AI. A life that was made, or grown; we don't have a word to describe the concept fully. She was ... produced by an alien race to 'service' her Prime. A Prime that never appeared, from what I can discern from her and the Ship. She claims I'm a Prime and has 'bonded' with me. You might think of her in part as the most sophisticated first aid kit imaginable. But she is far, far more than that. And she is a friend as well. A very special, very intimate friend and ... companion."

"You can talk to her?" Brenda asked as she leaned forward to get a better view.

Jeff puffed out a sigh. "'Talk, ' is probably too strong a word. We can generally communicate, but she was ... made by a race of beings who look similar to us, but are telepathic and they just don't speak as we do. I'm not even certain that the race who produced Little One still exists. She, and they I presume, communicate in ... concepts, I guess you could say — not just words as we do. Consequently, she, at first, deluged me with some sort of, well, really weird sensations, little of which made any sense to me. Enough came across that I recognized it as an attempt at communication, and gradually we have developed, and are expanding, our own stumbling language. I am learning, to some small degree, to project abbreviated concepts to her, and she is learning to reduce concepts to something that is a little easier for me to understand. Sometimes, we are stymied over the simplest things; other times the amount of information she sends me is amazing beyond words."

"And you ... trust her?" Fred said. "No offense meant, but how do you know..."

"A telepath can't lie, Fred. At least there is no possible way I could lie to her, or her to me. It's difficult to explain, but she sees everything I see. Suppose I was away on a mission. Maybe something happened while I was gone. If I asked her about it, I would get the whole event, beginning to end, along with any thoughts pertaining to the event, before or after — everything. Sometimes it's like asking for that proverbial needle and getting the whole haystack to go with it. She's learning to condense, and I'm trying to learn how to send the whole concept."

They spent the next hours bringing Fred and his mates up to date, including some information about the Ship, but Jeff, as always gave little detailed information about his relationship with her.

-------

Since Fred's family was now blocked, there was no reason for Jeff to sneak into their bedroom so that Little One could enhance Audrey and Brenda. Brenda took the recliner first, pushed back and waited. The blue beams swept over her as Jeff approached holding Little One, and Brenda slept. Five minutes later, Little One moved and Jeff touched her to receive a deluge of information and questions, most of which he didn't understand. He did understand that her task with Brenda was accomplished/unnecessary. He couldn't quite decipher what she meant. He did get the impression that Brenda was somehow different, but he would have to ponder the massive amount of information that Little One projected.

Audrey took Brenda's place on the recliner. She obviously tried to stay awake as the blue beams bathed her, but had no more luck with that than Helen had when Little One repaired the damage to her heart. The session took over an hour with Audrey, then Jeff put Little One on the others in turn just as a precaution, but Little One declared them healthy and enhanced, although the process was continuing.

The hot chocolate was long gone, and had been supplemented by coffee, soft drinks and snacks. Snacks for Jeff and Fred had been three ham sandwiches apiece.

Fred swallowed the last of his snack. "I'm still amazed those bastards tried to kill all of you like that. But, hell, I shouldn't be surprised. I've sure seen enough as a cop to believe the human race is capable of most anything. Crap, I wish I could have been here, not that you and your family didn't take care of them. Man, I would like to have seen it, though."

"Weeelllll," Arlene said, drawing out the word, "the computer only had a few cameras inside the Retreat at that time, but there were several cameras recording outside. You can see what happened outside if you would like."

"No," Jeff snapped. "I don't want to see that ... You were almost dead in my arms. Anyone who wants to watch it, that's okay, but not when I'm present."

"Nor I," Diana injected.

Fred, realizing the intensity behind Jeff's words, changed the subject, starting to tell about their nude beach adventure.

Later, Fred's mates got up to go use the bathroom. Diana and Arlene looked at each other and followed.

Fred grinned over at Jeff. "Did you catch that?"

"Yeah, they're going to watch the vid of the gunfight," Jeff sighed.

Kayla, lying with her head in her husband's lap, sniggered. "The battle is neat, but the best vid is the one where my husband guts Buckmann in the ring."

"What..." Fred said, staring at her.

"Kayla," Jeff admonished.

Kayla paid no attention to Jeff's admonishment. "He was the one who sent the mercenaries after us. Jeff split him from neck to groin in the blink of an eye."

"And you videoed that?" Fred asked.

"Not home video," Kayla said, "Professional studio-quality video from a half dozen angles. It was a sanctioned match at the base. It lasted about a second, if you count the time it took for Buckmann's guts to fall out."

Fred's fidgeting was obvious. "Go on, if you want. They'll be in the theater. We'll keep him entertained," Kayla said, with a giggle.

Fred was up and headed for the door before Jeff had time to protest. Of course, Kayla had already distracted him. Nat, Nicki and Whitney looked at each other, then were out the door, too.

"Shit, Baby. They shouldn't see something like that..."

"They've had a life we can't even imagine. They all slept together in a narrow bed to keep from being raped. They worked in the kitchen to get extra food. They're your wives now, just as I am. They might be a little green around the gills when they watch it for the first time, but I'll guarantee you they will watch it more than once. They need to see their Prime in action. Diana would never let them see it unless she knew they needed to. Another assurance that they're safe now; just another way to show that no one messes with your women and lives to brag about it."

Before long, Jeff and Kayla were alone in the living room. "I'm too sore, or I would ride you," Kayla sighed out as she stroked Jeff's cock through his pants.

"I can have Little One heal you in just a few minutes," he offered.

"No," Kayla quietly said. "I want to feel my wedding night for as long as I can. Just hold me, I don't like to be last, and I haven't gotten over what happened on that range." When Jeff started to say something, she touched her fingertips to his lips. "I know. I know. I should have realized how good they are, and intellectually, I guess I did, but reality stood up and smacked me one today. I have a long, long way to go, and right now, I can't see how I can ever possibly shoot the way they do."

Jeff hugged her tight for several minutes. "I told you how. You have a gift. That gift and a few hundred hours of practice will allow you to reach your goal. They're good people. People I trust and have trusted with my life."

Kayla punched him lightly in the ribs. "'A few hundred hours, ' my ass. I suspect it's closer to a few thousand hours, and that's just for that particular aspect of shooting. How am I ever going to be as good as they are?" she sighed. "Hold me, Husband. Hold me tight."



-------

Chapter 131

As everyone walked down the hall toward the theater, Selina hung back. When Diana turned and caught her eye, Selina, with purpose, walked on past, turned the corner and went on to her suite. If I do not ask, then the answer cannot be no,  she thought. Waiting four minutes by her internal clock, she walked back out of her suite, down the hall and peeked around the corner in the direction of the theater. There was no one in the hallway.

Shortly, she slowly opened the theater door the tiniest crack in order to listen. When she heard Diana talking, she eased the door open a little more until she could see through the crack.

Arlene had just set two small garbage cans down near Nat, Nicki and Whitney as they sat on the front row. Fred and his mates sat behind the girls on the second row. "Last chance, girls," the Queen said. "This is actual combat to the death with knives. It's quite ... gross. Whether you watch it or not is your decision. You've been warned."

"We were kidnapped and raped," Nat said. "Jeff rescued us. He or Captain Madison, or maybe both of them, killed Ingles. We're prepared. We've been told what happened at the base, but we want to see it ourselves."

"Okay. We'll show the knife fight first. After that, I'll leave. I don't want to see the fight outside the Retreat. I, like my husband, don't want to bring back the memories of Arlene almost dying." Diana fought the last words out past a lump in her throat as she turned her gaze on her daughter for a moment.

Still standing in front, Arlene picked up the remote and for a second, her eyes focused on the door. There was the barest moment of hesitation. Selina knew Arlene's sharp eyes had seen her. The genius held her breath, but Arlene didn't give Selina's presence away.

Kayla, having decided to come with the others after all, got up and walked over to stand beside Arlene and Diana. "Let me say something, Di, before you run the vid, please." At Diana's nod, Kayla turned to look first at Nat, Nicki and Whitney, then over at Fred and his group. "I need to tell you something about the base and the group that Jeff and I work for. Jeff gave you a general outline, but there are a couple of things I would like to add so maybe you will more fully understand what you're about to see on the screen. Nat, Nicki and Whitney, you've been to the base, but probably didn't get much of a chance to see or understand things while you were there, although you've heard us talk about some of this.

"First off, even though there are a fairly large number of scientists, technicians, and so forth at the base, they have all received the basics of combat training. Let me stress that their combat training in no way provides them with the skills to actually be on a combat team, but neither are they pushovers when it comes to a fight. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has to qualify on the range every six months. And that doesn't mean that they just go out and fail and then are coached through the course until they manage to shoot a minimum passing grade. Everyone has to put in at least eight hours on the range every month. If you have been off-world, and get behind on your range hours, then you are required to catch up when you return. I understand there have been some pissed-off scientists who thought they were too important for the rule to apply to them. Their blocks were checked, and they were sent packing.

"The idea behind all this is that help may be days or weeks away, even after a Mayday is sent. Our scientists are working to improve the portal, and from what I hear, they are stymied – plateaued if you will – on increasing the diameter of the portal opening. Even when it is working properly, it's an energy hog, is slow to recover, and when a Mayday comes in, there may also be others who have an emergency at the same time. So the portal could be tied up, or even down for repairs when an off-world science team is attacked. There has been more than one group of aliens who has found out that even the scientists have teeth. We push the panic button, and fight, if need be.

"I finished college, was recruited by the FBI and attended their academy in Quantico. Not long after I graduated from the academy, I was given the opportunity to join an organization that is so secret few people not working there have even heard of it. I'm an anthropologist. I spent a couple of years, mostly off-world, answering to a prick who was in charge of the team, and who loved to take credit for his underlings' work. It finally came back to bite him in the butt, but that's another story.

"The fight you are about to see was sanctioned by the General in charge of the base. There aren't many fights, but the ring is used when all else fails concerning a grievance between personnel. Most fights – what few there are – are with boxing gloves, but occasionally there is a true unarmed combat match. It has been a long time since the last fight to the death match, but the rule was in effect when Buckmann challenged Jeff, and it still is. Buckmann was already sentenced to death, so his only purpose was to take his personal enemy with him. Our husband accepted the challenge to personally avenge the attack on us that Buckmann had orchestrated.

"With probably his last breath, or at least one of his last, Buckmann lunged to kill Jeff before the fight had officially begun – not that it did him any good. Our Prime killed him, anyway."

Kayla looked at Nat, Nicki and Whitney. "The three of you and I seemed to hit it off both at Ingles home and later at the base, and we formed a bond almost instantly. As you know, the General sent me to help ease your transition to your new home and family here at the Retreat, but my true mission is to be the last line of defense for our Prime." She directed her final comment to Fred and his family. "Jeff is the only one the starship will allow to command her, so the General is adamant that nothing bad will ever happen to Jeff. I'm still amazed that the General allowed the fight to occur. Maybe it was male pride on both their parts, or ego. Maybe the General knew beyond the slightest doubt what the outcome would be. Maybe our Prime couldn't be denied. I don't know. I just wanted everyone to fully understand how the fight occurred. And if you have a weak stomach, you had better keep one of those garbage cans close by."

Kayla sat, and Arlene killed the lights completely, then started the video with the sound turned up.

Selina crouched low and opened the door enough to slip through. A few seconds later, the six-year-old slid into a seat just inside the doorway, hunkering down until she could barely see over the seat in front of her.

On the giant screen in the small theater, they watched as the high-res camera panned the audience at the arena, before focusing on the ring. The audience, both on screen and those watching in the theater, became totally silent.

On screen, Major Bailey said, "This is a match to the death. Do you agree?"

"Yes!" Buckmann snapped out before Bailey even got the words fully said.

"And you, Colonel Matthews, do you agree?"

"Yes," Jeff said, his voice quiet, but firm, the PA system, nevertheless, echoing his voice throughout the auditorium as it had Buckmann's. In the theater, everyone held his or her breath.

"Very well, in keeping with tradition..."

Buckmann lunged and Jeff reacted. With the sound turned up, they could hear Buckmann's wrist shatter as Jeff blocked, and at almost the same instant there was the sickening sound as the Prime's knife hissed through Buckmann's body, severing flesh, bone and muscle. Arterial blood sprayed Major Bailey. Jeff's three youngest wives sucked in a simultaneous breath as Buckmann's body toppled backward, his severed intestines spilling their contents as blood, urine and fecal matter joined an ever-widening puddle around the once-colonel's body.

Selina leaned forward, capping her hand over her mouth. As the vid continued on the screen, the camera zoomed in until Buckmann, or what was left of him, filled the screen.

"Isn't that thing hanging out of what's left of Buckmann's pants his..."

"Yep," Arlene answered. "I think our husband shortened him up a bit."

Arlene froze the vid for all to see the gruesome sight of Buckmann split open. Selina peeked over the seat after finally conquering her stomach. Her eyes got big and she ducked her head the second time, trying to suppress a gag.

Arlene hit Play again. The edited video showed different angles, and eventually the fight in slow motion. A bit later, Diana walked by, patting Selina on the head as she passed. "If you puke on my carpet, I'll expect you to clean it up."

She knew I was here,  Selina thought. When Diana left, closing the door behind her, Selina smiled, both proud that the Queen had not made her leave and pleased that she (Selina) had not sprayed the contents of her stomach onto the carpet. I certainly have a terrible taste in my mouth,  she thought, swallowing. Nat, Nicki and Whitney did not vomit. Nor shall I,  she vowed, swallowing again and taking a shuddering breath.

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER

Selina, much like Jeff, could awaken whenever she wanted. Now that she had received Little One's enhancement, she needed less sleep. At home with her parents, she had taken naps after dinner in order to be able to awaken after her parents and the servants were asleep. She had surfed the net, worked with projects she knew her parents wouldn't allow, or explored her home, her dad's home office and sometimes even the surrounding area of her neighborhood. She had always loved to sneak around and listen to people, and had sometimes played tricks on the servants while they slept. Hiding a shoe well up under the bed, resetting the volume on a TV so that it came on blaring, a lot of little things that amused her and passed the time.

She had watched a couple of movies in the theater with the Matthews, but she had never explored their video collection. She, of course, wasn't interested in the family movies. She had overheard Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa discussing a sex scene they had seen. Although she was almost certain the movie they discussed wasn't a true porn movie, it certainly seemed to have enough sex in it to interest the four young wives.

Selina wasn't really interested in sex – could not fully understand why anyone would be, but intellectually, she knew she would probably have a different opinion after undergoing puberty. But, she was bored and there was nothing else she wanted to do at the moment, so she turned on the lights in the theater and began to explore the Matthews video library.

-------

Jeff and his wives had just settled in for the night. Diana was snuggled on his left shoulder with Arlene on his right. The muted sounds of surf came from hidden speakers about the room, Laura having chosen the seashore sound tonight after being reminded of the ocean from hearing about their friends' trip to Florida in the RV. Diana was worried because Jeff had seemed preoccupied. When she had asked him about it, he had just shrugged and said he was a bit uptight for some reason.

Just as they had drifted off, the phone rang with the distinctive sound of a call originating in the Retreat. Caitlin, on the outside of the big bed nearest the phone, rolled to her side and fumbled the instrument out of its charging cradle and to her ear.

"Caitlin," she mumbled.

"This is General Whitworth. I need to speak with your husband ASAP."

"Yes, Sir," Caitlin said, snapping fully awake at the General's tone.

"Jeff, it's the General," she said, sitting up and reaching the phone over to her mate. As Jeff took the phone and sat up, Caitlin brought the lights up with the remote.

"Sir?" the Prime answered.

"Colonel, when you were attacked Little One called the ship. Could she do it again?"

Jeff was fully awake now, fatigue and sleep washed away by a surge of adrenaline. "The ship made some ... enhancements to Little One. I can call the Ship through her."

"Do so, Colonel. I'm alerting your team as we speak. You need to be in Atlanta five minutes ago. I'll meet you out back. If we hurry and are lucky you may be able to keep a number of FBI agents from dying tonight. Get the ship here, Colonel."

"Yes, Sir."

Jeff made his way quickly to the side of the bed. Kayla thrashed to get her legs free of the sheet, then scrambled to the foot of the bed. "What is it?" she asked her new Husband as she stood.

Jeff tossed the phone back to Caitlin and spoke up so everyone could hear. "All I know right now is that some FBI agents are going to die unless we help them. The General is activating the team, and I'm calling the Ship."

Jeff snatched Little One's drawer open, picked her up and placed her on his shoulder. Standing still, his eyes lost focus for a moment. His mind seemed to meld with Little One's for an instant, then reached out to the Ship. They touched for a heartbeat, then his mind was back in the room. Jeff didn't notice that all his wives, in varying degrees, had seemed to feel something too. Kayla, already hurrying toward the closet, staggered. Arlene and Diana groaned and grabbed their heads; Nat, Nicki and Whitney as one, shivered and let out a sigh. They all looked at each other.

"Wow!" Arlene exclaimed.

"Jeff?" Diana said quietly, but he was already in the big walk-in closet with his thumb pressed against the safe lock where he and Kayla kept their weapons. There were Glocks hidden about the Retreat and an assortment of other weapons locked in the case in the inside range, but the enhanced and off-world weapons that he and Kayla had were locked in the gun safe in the closet.

Jeff turned to Kayla, but before he could say anything, she, with a defiant look, said, "Don't even think about it, Husband. You know what my job is. I'm going with you. Besides, if I didn't, the General would have cause to have me up on charges. You wouldn't want one of your wives to embarrass you, would you?"

"I don't know what we're going to do, but you stay behind me. You let the team do what they are trained to do. I want you alive when this is over. Understand?"

Jeff's last word was so intense that Kayla could feel it. "Yes, My Prime," she said, meekly, as they hastily put on their uniforms and armor.

As Jeff tossed Kayla's pulse rifle to her, Diana came storming into the closet, grabbed Jeff and kissed him hard on the mouth, then turned to Kayla and did the same to her. "Take care of each other," she said as she backed up to give them room, tears streaming down her face. "I don't like this. I don't like this one damn bit."

Jeff knew better than to answer. He sat in a chair and forced his feet into the camouflage mesh, then stood to pull it up his body. Kayla, already in her camouflage suit, helped him, then fastened everything together in the back. When she turned her back to him, he finished fastening hers. Their equipment only took a couple of minutes more.

"Kiss everyone for us, Di," Jeff said as he turned away. He and Kayla hurried through the bedroom settling their helmets into place. As soon as they went online, they could hear the team Lieutenant and team Sergeant giving orders – more protocol than anything else, because the team knew what to do. Security already had Escalades waiting outside the front door of the ski lodge to move the team to the Retreat. On their private channel, the General brought Jeff up to date with all the information he had.

THE HIDDEN BASE

Doctor Richard Daniels had recently been promoted to team leader – for the night shift. (Daniels was one of the scientists who had been chased off the Ship when she left the base so rapidly before.) He had seriously considered turning the "promotion" down. There was a ten percent raise that went with the promotion, but there were distinct disadvantages to working night shift – disadvantages he had heard voiced by other team leaders and section heads over the years. Meetings, if the night shift supervisor happened to be included, were during the day, which meant he would have to get up during his "night" to attend. Night shift was generally "the red headed step child" who seldom got credit for good work, and since they were generally not there to defend themselves during impromptu meetings, the shift tended to be blamed for slowdowns or other problems, more often than not. Just a fact of nature, he mused.

Turning down the promotion wasn't really an option, however. That would show as a negative on his record and might well be cause to pass over him when another more desirable promotion came along. Like many other night shifts the world over, if you pissed the boss off on day shift, suddenly that very person was "desperately" needed on night shift. So he suspected he was going to inherit a few, and he hoped it was only a few, disgruntled people working for him. He knew three of the people on night shift, and they were excellent people. So he had at least three good people. Maybe there were only a couple of assholes on nights. Well he would soon find out. He hoped for the best and took the promotion with a smile, albeit a forced one.

After the Ship had returned from helping Colonel Matthews, the scientists had noticed a marked difference in their ability to gain information. Before, even though they had used every means available to mark their routes, it wasn't unusual to be lost for hours in the winding and seemingly ever-changing passageways in the big ship. The feeling of ... animosity that had seemed to radiate from the Ship, had changed to ... indifference, or maybe on some occasions, slight curiosity.

Deep in the Ship, Daniels stood in a large room. Giant... (machines?) sat in rows, the machines slightly glowing, semitransparent. He had been in this general area dozens of times, but suddenly a doorway stood open before him where there had been none before. It had opened into this weird, giant ... room. The sides were curved, the floor seemed to slope toward the far end, but when he walked toward that wall, he didn't feel the slope under his feet. Looking behind him, that way now seemed to slope downward. There was a throb of power, somehow not heard, but felt. Power so vast that his mind screamed at him to run for his life.

When he looked forward again, the room and rows of machines suddenly seemed to extend to infinity, the end lost in the obscurity of distance. As he turned toward the door where he had entered, he felt it. Oh, shit. Not again,  he thought as he snapped a look over his shoulder. A spider – something – ten feet tall stood undulating on its many legs, obviously ready to spring. It spit a glob of smoking green goo at him that he managed to duck. He could smell the creature's fetid odor. It is not real. It wasn't there two seconds ago. Logic had absolutely nothing to do with the primal terror that bubbled up through his being. He was running full-out for the opening to the corridor before he even realized it, the creature only one leap behind.

As he turned right into the stream of technicians and scientists, he was almost run down by a sprinting technician. Although his mind screamed at him to run, he yelled aloud, "Calm down! Calm down! The Ship just wants us out of her." A woman stumbled in front of him and he grabbed her arm to steady her.

Dammit,  he fumed mentally, you don't have to scare the piss out of us. You could just tell us to get out. We would be glad to do just that.

Suddenly, rows of strobing lights appeared on the walls, marking the way to the outer hatch.

Daniels risked another look over his shoulder. He no longer saw the spider, or whatever it was, but the feeling of terror remained, its intensity not having slackened in the slightest. That's better,  he thought. Next time you need us to leave, just tell us to get the hell out. We'll be glad to go.

He herded his people to the hatchway and down the ramp. "Get down on the floor and cover your ears," he yelled as the big landing jacks retracted and the ramp disappeared, the Ship hovering. "I've done this before. It's going to get loud in here," he shouted. He jumped onto a folding chair and did a head count. Well, I only have a third of the people that day shift has, so it's easier to count. Everyone is out.

Just as he stepped down from the chair, the Ship disappeared. There was a clap of sound that rivaled any thunder he had ever heard. His ears popped as air rushed to replace the vacuum the big ship had left behind. Base sirens added to the bedlam. He suspected the "thunder" was caused by something more than the air slamming back into the void left by the Ship.

"I left all my equipment..." one of the scientists began.

"It will be there when she comes back," Daniels said. "Anyone hurt?" he asked, raising his voice.

When it was obvious that everyone was okay, most just embarrassed by having succumbed to their terror a few moments ago, he grinned and said, "Let's clean up this mess, then we'll break for lunch. Maybe she'll be back before the shift is over, if not, we'll probably have another assignment by tomorrow."

-------

Jeff and Kayla had just jogged past the theater when Selina opened the door to leave. Wow. Where are they going in such a hurry? she thought as she stared at their backs. The uniforms are neat, and they have those odd looking rifles over their shoulders.

Jeff and Kayla picked that moment to test their camouflage. They disappeared for a few seconds before reappearing farther down the hall. That got Selina's full attention with the little genius' mind going into overdrive. The two turned the corner headed for the inside garage and the rear exit as the six-year-old's enthusiasm and curiosity maxed out. Almost jumping up and down in her excitement, she decided to ask the Queen what was happening. She dashed around the corner heading for the Matthews suite before remembering she had to ask permission before entering. Hurrying into her suite, she snatched the phone up and dialed, knowing her Prime's wives would be awake if he and Kayla had just dressed and left.

"I need to speak with you," she quickly said when Diana answered the phone.

"Come on," the Queen told her, hanging up.

Selina dashed out of her suite and down the hall. Opening the outer door to the Matthews' suite, she entered, then knocked smartly on the bedroom door before opening it. "They disappeared," she blurted out as the child in her momentarily took over in her excitement. "Kayla and our Prime were running down the hall and they just disappeared."

Diana was on the phone intently talking with Ellen, the General's wife. Shortly, the Queen hung up the phone, her face white. Turning to the others as the room suddenly became stone quiet, "All Ellen knows is there are supposed to be a large force of mercenaries who are going to attack an FBI safe house where the FBI is hiding that agent who was shot in Atlanta. Jeff, Kayla and his team are going to try to rescue the agents."

-------

They all felt the throb of an immense force high over the Retreat as the Ship came into existence, then dropped toward the range, her inertialess drive stopping her in an instant to hover just over the deep snow. She seemed to glide effortlessly just above the snow to stop short of the helipad, a convenient ramp and hatch suddenly appearing.

The General, Jeff and Kayla stood conversing near the helipad as the team bailed out of the Escalades, unloaded their equipment and slogged through the snow to enter the Ship.

The General slapped Jeff on the back and he and Kayla jogged in the path opened by his team. As they stepped on the ramp, they, the ramp and the hatch disappeared, the Ship accelerating upward in the blink of an eye.

-------

"Prayer circle?" Arlene asked.

"Yes," Diana responded.

"Shall I call the other Alphas and their mates?"

"No," Diana said, shaking her head, "when we hear that noise again they'll be in Atlanta. Let's do it now."

As the wives knelt and joined hands, Diana turned to Selina. "We are going to ask God to keep Jeff, Kayla and the team safe. You may join or not as you wish. Or if you decide you would like to kneel with us and not speak, that will be fine, too."

"I shall join and observe," Selina responded as she knelt between Jennie and Melissa, taking their hands.

-------

Inside the Ship, Jeff jogged to the command center, Kayla a step behind him. As he settled into one of the command couches, he motioned Kayla to the other one.

"Jeff, uh, Colonel," she said over the command channel, "one person died sitting in that chair, and the others went nuts..."

"She knows you," Jeff said distractedly. "Sit."

Sitting, then lying back on that second couch was the hardest thing Kayla had ever done in her life. Taking a breath, trusting her husband, she tried to relax. That lasted about a millisecond. Suddenly she was immersed in/became a torrent of sounds, images and feelings that overwhelmed her in an instant. She felt the men and women of Jeff's team, also felt a presence so vast that her mind instantly tried to skitter away and hide. She saw/felt/was aware of the landscape below the Ship. Saw the world as a whole, turning in the night, saw myriad airliners moving about the globe, saw sparkling cities stretched out below her as the Earth slowly turned, saw/felt the Earth as it related to the cosmos about them. Saw/felt the immensity of distance and the civilizations that thrived on innumerable planets of the countless star systems throughout the galaxy. And those were a mere drop in the ocean compared to the immensity of dimensions that repeated everything over and over. Her mind threatened to ... segment, the abyss swirling below her, the vastness of the dimensions beckoning.

Focus here,  something/someone said in her mind. Was it Jeff? Focus here. Now!

She felt something reach out for her – drag her back. Suddenly, she was again in the Ship, her consciousness floating high over the Retreat. She cringed at the height, and the Ship seemed to suddenly solidify around her.

She felt her mate's gloved hand squeeze hers. The General gave me coordinates from his source,  she heard her Prime/the Ship say. Brace yourself; we're going to jump.

The Ship translated. Kayla felt her body turned wrong-side-out, then after what seemed like an eon, reversed. Her stomach rebelled, but she swallowed her gorge, refusing to vomit inside her helmet.

Kayla knew that she was only peripherally aware of what was going on with Jeff's communication with the Ship. He seemed to be the Ship, or was at least part of it. The Ship's mind seemed so vast. Deep down, she knew she had only slightly touched the vastness of that mind, still that slight touch was terrifying. Suddenly, something changed; the vastness of the Ship's mind no longer seemed like a bottomless chasm beneath her. She was still deluged with information, but now it seemed to pertain only to things that were going on around her.

The world below her should have been in darkness, but it wasn't. She assumed the Ship's sensors rendered everything visible. She suddenly realized/knew they were near Atlanta. To the north, a giant cloud hung ominous, strobes of huge lightning bolts raining down in an almost constant downpour of titanic energies. Kayla sat mesmerized, having never seen lightning like this.

Wall cloud,  Jeff said/thought to her. She couldn't tell whether she heard him through her helmet or through the mind of the Ship. Coming this way at sixty miles an hour.

Wall cloud? What's a wall cloud? she thought/said back.

Part of a supercell as the weather people call them. It's a bitch. Looks like a giant wall hanging above the horizon. Spawns tornadoes. Life in the South, spring and fall, some part of his mind responded even as the Ship's mind presented him with information in torrents that seemed to swirl around the two of them, threatening to suck her into the flow.

Jeff's mind/the Ship's mind focused far below them as three helicopters struggled into the gusty air from an overgrown area near a large house. Accelerating, they fled before the coming storm. She could feel the Ship "wanting" (?) the helicopters. Kayla thought of a lioness stalking her prey, anxious and wanting to devour.

Thoughts between her husband and the Ship swirled about her. In the space of a heartbeat, amounts of information that would have taken many minutes to discuss passed between the Ship and her master. Kayla realized that Jeff was feeding her a summarized version of their thoughts. Astonished, she also realized that the Ship did not agree with her Prime, was in a way, almost arguing with him and was using her primary directive to try and change his mind. The Ship reasoned there were overwhelming forces below that she could annihilate in an instant; there was no reason for her Prime and his team to expose themselves to danger, but Jeff would not let her fire, saying that her presence should not be known, that her weapons would be too obvious.

The Prime's debate with the Ship had taken place at the speed of thought, the giant Ship already hurtling downward as the storm roared toward them, heedless of the puny mortals that would soon be locked in deadly combat.



-------

Chapter 132

EARLY TUESDAY MORNING NEAR ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Grigsby stood in the living room talking to his SAC as several techs manned the various screens tied to cameras set up around the property. " ... My sources say there are thirty of them, all highly trained mercenaries," Whatley said. "They suckered us with that compound we've been watching in Wyoming. It was just a fluke that we noticed this group moving in barely before they got to your location."

Grigsby sighed. "We're ready as we can be, but I need to get off this phone. The helicopters are leaving, so this bunch is already on the ground and they're only a couple of hundred yards away." There was a hesitation, then, "My people now have them on camera. We can't see exactly how many there are yet, but from the looks of them, there are bound to be at least twenty — probably more."

"Get your people inside."

"What? We can't do that. We would be bottled up in here like..."

"You're not alone. I have help on the way, and they should be there momentarily."

Grigsby, thinking that Whatley was sending a few more agents, unconsciously waved his hands around in his frustration. "Bullshit, what are a few more agents? They'll just be dead like us. We'll take some of these bastards with us, though. We have cameras all over and we see them coming. I've told my people to wait until they can't miss. I need to go..."

"Bring your people inside, dammit. They'll be killed out there."

Grigsby, more frustrated, continued, "You're not making sense. I have people outside who will..."

" ... Be dead in a few minutes if they engage those mercenaries. Listen to me, Matt. You saved my life at the hospital, now I'm returning the favor. Please, please take my word on this. Bring your people inside and don't engage the mercenaries unless there is no other choice."

In the blacked-out living room, Grigsby stood looking at a screen when the operator zoomed in on one of the mercenaries. "Shit, they have fucking RPGs. One of those grenades in this house and we're all dead."

"Matt, listen to me. I swear to you on my honor that help is on the way. Pull your people inside right now. Matt, have I ever lied to you? Get everyone in the house — now."

Grigsby knew they were as good as dead. No way could his people go up against trained mercenaries, particularly as badly outnumbered as the agents were. It would just be a matter of time before his agents would all be killed, anyway. Making up his mind, he put his hand on the shoulder of the man sitting in front of him, "Evans, recall all our people who are outside."

"What? We can..."

"Do it!"

The agent issued the order, but Grigsby saw several of his outside people struggling with cases of loaded rifle magazines. He reached over and grabbed the mike from Evans.

"Drop the extra ammo. Get inside now!"

The agents dropped their burdens and ran.

Lightning picked that moment to strike a power substation a couple of blocks away. The lights went out instantly. Three seconds later, they flickered pale, flickered again and came to a steady, full brightness. Bless those nurses for that backup generator, Grigsby thought.

Art Hanes walked slowly into the living room, a nurse on either side, helping him. "I thought I told you to take him to the basement," Grigsby snarled at the nurses, then to Haynes, "This is no place for you right now. Arthur," he continued, waving to one of the agents who had just come in from outside, "Get agent Hanes and the nurses to the basement. Get a vest on all three of them," Grigsby snapped out to another of the agents.

Both nurses were wearing the belts and holsters that they used in their pistol matches. Hanes, still in his pajamas since he didn't have any other clothes, had his Glock in his hand and several extra magazines stuffed in the top of his pajama pants.

The nurses were terrified, but they were quiet and continued to help support their patient between them. Arthur motioned for Hanes and the nurses to start down the hall in front of him. "It isn't going to happen," Hanes said to him, refusing to move. Then to Grigsby, "Sandra and Bobby are going to the basement; I'll be helping out at the back door."

"You're going..." Grigsby started.

"We'll all be dead in a few minutes, anyway, and you know it," Hanes interrupted, motioning to the screens where the night vision cameras showed a number of uniformed men heading toward the house. "Those are soldiers, mercenaries, or whatever you want to call them. They're wearing some kind of uniform and carrying military weapons. I'm not going to cower in a corner and wait for one of those guys to come in and finish me off."

Sandra, her face drawn, said, "Bobby and I are going to be with him, and don't bother to try and talk us out of it. We'll make coming through that back door expensive for those ... people."

"Ah, fuck," Grigsby snarled, turning back to the screens.

Art, walking slowly with a very pronounced limp, made it to the kitchen with the nurses' help. Two agents were standing at the back door. Extra M4 magazines were stacked on chairs close to hand. Faces expressionless, the agents nodded at Hanes and the nurses.

Two agents brought in flack vests and the three struggled into them, the agents helping. Hanes nodded his thanks as one of the agents said, "I heard somebody say that whoever is out there has RPGs. If that's true, we might not even get a round off before they blow this house away, and us in it."

"You ladies need to be in the basement," one of the agents by the door said.

"You're wasting your breath," Bobby responded. "We're staying with Art. Besides, who needs a burning house falling on them? We had rather die with a bullet through us or from an RPG explosion instead of cowering in the basement waiting to be cooked."

"We're going to stay with our man," Sandra affirmed.

From the living room, "Sir," one of the technicians called out, "something odd is happening out there."

They all heard the chatter of automatic weapons, first, one firing short bursts, then more weapons began firing until the noise level increased dramatically, but there didn't appear to be any bullets striking the house.

"What the hell are they shooting at?" Grigsby said, a lot louder than he intended. "They're all firing toward the other end of the field."

"I don't know," one of the technicians said, "but I saw a number of the mercs fall. Someone out there is mowing them down like wheat."

Something went up a couple hundred feet and hovered, producing an intense, strobing light. All the night vision cameras on that side of the house overloaded and went out.

"They'll reset in a second," one of the technicians said. The scene from the outside cameras returned for a couple of seconds, then went out again.

"Whoever is attacking the mercenaries is doing that," Grigsby said, thinking aloud.

The storm hit with a vengeance, winds howling around the house. The old house shuddered, but stood. Rain came down, a wall of water. Lightning hit a tree a block away, setting the remains afire for a moment until the torrent put it out. Another bolt hit, close, the deafening sound and bright flash, simultaneous. Limbs and debris flew through the air. Something heavy struck the front porch, rattling the door. One of the windows in a bedroom broke with a crash, either from flying debris or from the wind. Near-constant lightning strikes rained down over the area, the thunder virtually continuous, adding to the bedlam of the automatic weapons firing. Golf ball sized hail started falling intermittently, then picked up the pace, its clatter on the roof adding to the pandemonium.

"Look," one of the technicians said, pointing to a rain-and-hail-blurred picture. "You can see the laser targeting from the rifles of whoever is shooting at the mercenaries. There's so much moisture in the air that the beams show up to some extent. Whoever is attacking the mercs have red targeting lasers. The mercs have green."

"I can see the beams," Grigsby said, "but I still can't see who is giving the mercenaries hell."

"Look carefully, Sir, the next time the cameras cycle back on. There is another pulse of light coming from this new group, well actually, many pulses. They're much paler, but the rain and hail coming down is letting us see the beams in the air. Looks like they're emanating from the other end of the field behind the mercenaries where the red targeting lasers are apparently originating. But what are those other beams?"

"Dammed if I know, but whatever they are, something is taking its toll on the mercs," Grigsby said, leaning over the tech's shoulder to better see the screen as he tried to process what was happening before the night vision cameras overloaded and went out again.

-------

When the hatch had opened, Kayla had run down the ramp a step behind Jeff, the Ship invisible behind them. They made their way a hundred feet from the Ship, then hit the ground as members of Jeff's team began firing. Kayla, no longer feeling the Ship's mind, knew the ship had left to go after the helicopters.

The mercenaries were being hit, although they didn't hear any weapons firing, just odd pulses of humming, but whatever it was, it was totally destructive to anyone hit with one of those odd beams that were now starting to show up in the rain and hail laden air.

Kayla started to raise her head trying to see better, but Jeff slapped her flat an instant before a burst of what sounded like angry bees tore through the weeds just above her. Jeff snapped his weapon up, fired, and was rewarded by a scream.

I can't see a bloody thing,  Kayla snarled to herself as hail began to rattle against her faceplate. She tried to settle her nerves. Her heartbeat, not that she noticed, was well over a hundred and fifty beats per minute. Her nerves rang with another adrenaline surge as more rounds tore through the weeds near her. Not far away, a tornado alert siren was also adding its loud, warbling wail to the cacophony of automatic weapons and the deafening thunder.

One of Jeff's team sent up a smart strobe to counteract and confuse the mercenary's night vision gear, not that Jeff's team could be seen, but their laser targeting beams were showing up, so it was simple enough to figure out where the killing force was generally originating. Kayla's helmet reset at a frequency the strobe didn't interfere with.

Jeff fired, came to a crouch and dashed ahead, diving to slide on the coating of hail, Kayla right on his heels. When he went to ground again, she crawled up beside him. Her helmet AI was showing her things she had difficulty understanding. Oh fuck, oh fuck,  she thought as she tried to bring back her training on the battle helmet. She fired short bursts, keeping her pulses close to the ground.

A mercenary rose up a little to shoot the strobe out, and paid for it with his life a half second later. One of Jeff's team launched another strobe. Worried now, the mercenaries blew through ammunition, laying down a near-constant barrage of automatic fire toward their unseen attackers.

Kayla's helmet was showing her the enemy, but every time she tried to raise her head a little bit, Jeff slapped her flat a second before a hail of bullets whined past. Finally, she got the angles right, pointed her weapon in the direction the AI said, and fired a long burst. The AI superimposed an X over the enemy icon. Well, damn. I finally hit one,  she thought as she changed power packs just before a hail of bullets made her want to dig a very deep hole and crawl into it. She answered with a long burst from her weapon.

Kayla kept firing where the AI indicated — changed power packs when needed, moved when Jeff told her. Time drifted onward unnoticed by her as she fought by her Prime's side.

Kayla could hear abbreviated code chatter between the team members. She had memorized the combat codes when she trained at the base, but Jeff's team had a more abbreviated code than she was first taught. It was almost as if each knew what the others were thinking. She had memorized their more abbreviated version, too, but now she began to wonder. Jeff, Sergeant Gomez and Lieutenant Richardson seemed to almost casually converse as they fought, of course they conversed in their abbreviated code. There was no apparent excitement in their voices. She was afraid to say anything for fear of sounding like a fool — not that she could think of anything of import to say, anyway. She understood that six of the team were flanking to the left and other members were filling out their positions in the line, more scattered now, but making it appear that the six were still there firing.

She heard one of the team curse and call for a medic, the trooper obviously having been hit. He said it was only a graze, but snarled that it was bleeding like hell. That much was in the clear. A few moments later, due to her AI, she could tell he was still firing, even as the medic worked on him. Jeff moved again, with Kayla scrambling after him. She realized that the barrel of her weapon was smoking in the downpour. She could feel the heat through the rifle stock and her muddy gloves. Oh, well, the pulse rifle was designed to function under adverse conditions, and she had six more power packs left on her belt. There was a stash of power packs behind her where they had dropped the extra cases of them when they left the Ship, but she realized the fight would be over, one way or the other, before she would need more packs. She rammed in a new power pack as the rain poured down, the hail thankfully slacking up for now, then looked for another target. Her helmet provided her with icons to locate the enemy, but the uneven ground and the hail of bullets the mercenaries were putting out, kept her from hitting any of them. She lined up her weapon as best she could and held the trigger back for a burst.

-------

The Ship, frustrated, lazed along behind the three helicopters. She had scanned ahead and found a wooded area with no signs of life above that of animals. She would destroy the helicopters there. They had been headed generally in that direction, but suddenly they veered off to the north. She jammed their radio frequencies and nudged them back on course with her beams.

-------

The helicopter swerved back to their original heading as the pilot stared at the compass. It felt as if the craft had been pushed to the right. Must be wind, he thought, his hand automatically gentling the cyclic to the left. Nothing happened. What the fuck? he thought as he moved his controls farther. The helicopter shook, the superstructure seemed to groan.

The two pilots looked at each other. Before either could say anything their radios began a feedback squeal — then their intercom did the same thing.

The helicopter pilot had a bad feeling — a really bad feeling. Somehow, he felt that something was behind him. Glad that this model had a mirror, he tried to see what was back there. The hair seemed to stand up on the back of his neck as he fought the controls. The mirror showed the lights of Atlanta and the tremendous lightning display behind them in the distance, then ... the lights of the city were occluded just for a moment. Something was back there — something big.

The two pilots were having to yell at each other over the sound of the engine, since their intercom was out. The pilot pulled up on the collective and slammed the cyclic to the left, while twisting the throttle to maximum. The framework of the craft groaned, but the helicopter continued on their original course. He tried to contact the other helicopters again. The feedback tore at their ears. The Ship grew tired of the helicopters sedate pace. Abruptly, their speed increased dramatically, the acceleration pushing the pilots back in their seats. Terror stalked them.

Shortly, their speed higher than a helicopter should ever go, they were away from the city and over a sparsely populated area. The Ship could now fulfill her Prime's command.

Panic had set in with the pilots. It was short-lived. Three beams lanced out and touched the helicopters. Three phenomenally loud claps of thunder that sounded like one, and the machines and their crews disintegrated.

In the forested area below a few minutes later, six inches of a rotor tip came whistling down to strike the muddy ground just in front of a possum. The animal flinched, its nose sniffing the air. It took a couple of steps closer, smelling the new thing in its world, then deciding the object wasn't food, the possum waddled on.

High above, the Ship rotated and accelerated back toward her master with an eye-blink inertialess maneuver that any fighter pilot who ever lived would have envied. Of course, without the Ship's inertial dampers, that fighter pilot would have been a red smear on the inside of his craft.

-------

Unknown to Jeff and his team, two of the mercenaries had come in by land vehicle before the helicopters arrived, walking the last couple of blocks up the alley behind the house. They had climbed one of the big oaks and waited. Now, they were mystified that they were unable to see who was attacking their group.

They were well up into the tree, one above the other, each standing on large limbs, their safety lines around the tree. When lightning hit a tree a block away, then the hail started, they debated disobeying orders and climbing down, but discipline won out and they maintained their positions while striving to see where the attackers were.

When the winds hit, the highest mercenary was blown off his slippery limb. His safety line jerked his descent to a halt, saving him, and the lanyard on his rifle allowed him to retrieve his weapon as it dangled below him. Finally scrambling back to the slick limb with the help of his buddy, the two of them clung to the tree, still looking for a target.

Even with the deluge of water falling from the sky, they managed to get a general location for the attackers. Both saw a targeting laser's red beam outlined in the torrent of rain coming down. On full auto, both fired where the beam seemed to originate.

-------

Jeff and Kayla had just moved up again — if you could call squirming through the mud and not daring to raise your head, moving. Kayla tried to concentrate on what her AI was showing her. Half the mercenaries were down, but the ones that were left had gone to ground and were staying there, rising up just enough to fire a burst, then immediately dropping down to conceal themselves behind the rough ground. One of Jeff's team got off several bursts in a row. From a tree in the back yard, two mercenaries fired a long burst toward the trooper.

The trooper's icon flashed and went out, to be replaced by an outline of an icon with an X superimposed over the new outline. Since the snipers had remained hidden behind the thick tree until then, the helmets had not picked up their location, but now the helmets did. Almost before the bursts from the tree were over, four of the team and Jeff pushed their selectors to maximum and fired a burst of high energy into the tree, emptying their energy packs in a couple of seconds, the barrels of their weapons turning white hot in the process.

The tree was old and big, approximately three feet thick where the mercenaries stood hiding behind its girth. The hail of high-energy pulses cut through tree and mercenaries alike. Chunks of wood and mercenaries rained down as the tree groaned and the top half came crashing down with an enormous sound that seemed to continue for seconds.

Another mercenary rose up a little and fired an RPG. The grenade whooshed a couple of feet over Kayla's head as the team answered with concentrated fire before the mercenary could duck back down, almost cutting him in half. The grenade hit a tree in the field a block away, but the sound of the tree falling was swamped by the sound of another nearby lightning strike.

A few seconds later, lightning struck one of the large trees in the back yard. The flash from the bolt was blinding in its intensity and the sound mind numbing. The six troopers who had flanked the mercenaries chose that moment to fire as one, and due to the slight rise in their new area, they had targets they could see and hit. The rest of the group poured fire into the mercenary line to keep them pinned down.

The battle/slaughter was over in a moment.

"Colonel..." Kayla started.

"The medics are with him now," Jeff said to her. "We'll know something in a minute. Just stay where you are for bit and let the team check for survivors. One could still be alive and waiting to take one of us with him."

They heard a single pulse, then a moment later another as the team made sure of the mercenaries. A couple of minutes later, "All clear, Colonel," the Sergeant said.

Jeff ordered everyone to shut off his or her camouflage.

"Femoral artery," one of the medics said as Jeff and Kayla jogged up, but Jeff was already pulling his collar open to let Little One out. The medics had the trooper's camouflage off and his pants pulled down. One of the medics was pressing hard on an entry wound high on the inside of the trooper's thigh, and the other medic was trying to start an IV.

Jeff knelt beside them and held Little One over the medic's hands. As the medic moved his hands away, the blue beams came on. The pulsing of the artery covered the Healer in blood as Jeff sat her on the wound. A couple of seconds later, the blood slowed to a much weaker pulse, then after a moment, stopped.

"Why is he offline?" Jeff wondered out loud as one of the medics began to carefully remove the trooper's helmet.

The other medic responded. "He took one in the thigh, three in the vest, one nicked his neck there, and one hit his faceplate."

The medic who had removed the trooper's helmet leaned over the trooper's face to shield him from most of the downpour as he examined the helmet. He held it out to Jeff, pointing. "Round hit the faceplate about eye level and ricocheted upward. The lip here where the faceplate retracts into the helmet is supposed to deflect a round. Judging from the damage, I think the round fragmented as the lip deflected it and a small fragment went on inside the helmet and trashed the computer. There isn't any bleeding that I can find, and my scanner doesn't show any neck injuries, so I suspect he may have a concussion from the force of the round snapping his head back when it hit his faceplate."

Jeff felt the Ship come back. A hatch opened and a ramp appeared. "Let's get him in the Ship and into a healing chamber. Same thing with you, Donaldson," Jeff said, turning to the other trooper who had been hit.

"I'm fine, Sir. It's just a flesh wound. It bled like a motherfuck... , uh, it bled a lot, though," he finished, looking at Kayla. "Sorry, Ma'am."

"At ease, Trooper. I probably said worse when that RPG went over my head."

"Nevertheless, the chamber," Jeff reiterated. "Anyone else hurt?" he asked the group. Another trooper limped up. "What about you, Springer? You catch one in the foot?"

"No, Sir," he said, sheepishly. "I stepped in a hole and sprained my ankle."

"Okay, get your ass in one of those chambers, too," Jeff said, slapping him on the back.

"Yes, Sir," he responded as he limped toward the Ship, assisted by his buddy.

Jeff stood quiet for a moment as he and the ship communicated.

Lieutenant Richardson stepped up to Jeff. "Two took glancing rounds to their helmets and one had a non direct hit to a faceplate. Just barely touched, and skipped on. Three more took hits to their vests, but there are no other casualties, Sir."

"All right. Carry on, Richardson. I'm headed in to talk with the FBI agents. I'll see if I can get you some help out here policing up this ... mess."

The Lieutenant chuckled. "The pretty boys will puke for sure when they see what a direct hit from one of our pulse rifles does to a man."

"Do you intend to take the bodies with us when we leave?" Kayla quietly questioned Jeff.

"Those are my orders. The General wants the mercenaries to just disappear."

"But won't the agents see the Ship? Even if she stays invisible, walking up a ramp and then disappearing inside is going to..."

" ... And who would believe them? They know they're alive because of us. They haven't been able to see us until now that we have shut off our camouflage. They owe us bigtime. I'll ask that they keep quiet about what happened here tonight. Who knows? They might even do it, but the greater incentive to keep quiet will probably be the fear of being labeled as nuts. You know, another version of being abducted by aliens. These are smart people. Talking about an invisible space Ship that brought a bunch of invisible people who killed off thirty mercenaries, then took the dead bodies with them ... Well, that should surely help their careers along — not," he chuckled.

After a moment, he continued, "I need to check in with the General before we go inside." Turning away, he changed to his private channel with Whitworth.

"It's over," Jeff said simply a moment later.

"Casualties?"

"One critical, but Little One stopped the bleeding and he's being put in a healing chamber as we speak. Cleanup is going to take about an hour, maybe longer."

There was a flash and a clap of thunder that made Jeff's ears ring. The sound of the nearest tornado siren's mournful wail intensified and diminished as it turned on its mount. "The wind has died down some, and the hail has just about quit, but we're still in a freaking storm."

"I've been watching the weather on TV, and have the weather map for your area up on my computer. They've had several smaller tornadoes touch down not far from you. The weather people said there were straight-line winds that reached seventy miles an hour. They're getting reports of a lot of damage," Whitworth said.

"Dammed storm had me more worried than the mercenaries. You can't predict where the next lightning bolt is going to hit. Hell, one hit a tree in the back yard. There are tree limbs everywhere. I thought there for a while we were going to be hit by a tornado for sure. Uh, General, would you mind calling..."

"Ellen is talking to her as we speak. I gave my wife the high sign, so she knows everything is okay. She dialed the phone as soon as I did that."

"Thanks. Di wasn't exactly pleased when we left."

The General chuckled. "I can imagine. How did the camouflage work?"

"There were problems — totally unexpected ones, but I should have anticipated them. Our targeting lasers showed up to some extent in the high humidity, and when it started raining like hell, not to mention the hail, the lasers showed up more, which let the mercs know where we were, and they took advantage of that. Of course, they still couldn't see us, but they knew generally where we were from the lasers. But you can't hit the broad side of a barn by trying to point an invisible weapon, so we had to use the lasers, anyway. We're not talking about a normal rain, though. It was raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock, and there are a couple of inches of hail on the ground as well. Even now, the rain hasn't slacked off that much. The only time the rain slacked off any was when it was hailing the hardest. I've never seen it hail and rain at the same time before."

The General hesitated for a second at the mental image of a cow with her tail raised... Yet another of Jeff's southern expressions,  he thought, but it surely did conjure up a picture. He forced his mind back from the mental image. "Uh, the weather people said the area got four inches of rain in twenty minutes and it's still coming down, although not as fast now."

"I've never fought a battle while standing under a fire hose, but this one sure felt like it. I need to go talk to the agents in the house. I imagine their curiosity level has just about reached maximum by now. Can you call your contact and get him to talk to whoever is in charge here so I can go in without getting my ass shot off?"

"Hang on, he's still on the other line."

"Tell him Kayla and I will go in the back. There's a big limb laying on their front porch blocking the door, and I want to have a look at the two guys we shot out of the tree in the back yard, anyway."

-------

When the phone started to ring, Diana snatched it up before the ring even finished.

"It's over and they're fine," Ellen said, knowing how it felt to worry about a husband in combat. "That's about all I know right now. Henry is still talking to Jeff on the radio, but I can't make out what he's saying since he closed his faceplate. As soon as he tells me more, I'll call you back, but he gave me the finger thumb circle thing and smiled before he closed his faceplate, so I know they're fine."

"Thanks, Ellen. We'll be waiting for anything else you hear. Thank you."

Diana absently hung up the phone and turned to the others. "It's over. All Ellen knows is that they're fine. She'll call us back when she hears any details."

"Mom, we need to thank Him."

"Yeah ... yeah, we do," Diana said, sinking to her knees as the others gathered around.



-------

Chapter 133

THE NURSES' HOME

The wind had died down to an occasional hard gust, but they could still hear almost constant thunder in the distance as the sky to the south lit with multiple lightning flashes. The power was off and would remain so through the coming day as the power company repaired many downed lines throughout the area, and installed new transformers to get the substation back on line following the lightning strike.

"Oh, shit," Kayla said, hissing in a breath when she saw the result of the multiple full-power pulse rifle hits. The trunk of the big oak where the two snipers had hidden looked like a bomb had gone off in it, and the remains of the mercenaries were virtually unrecognizable as having ever been human. The largest piece she saw appeared to be about two-thirds of a chest. She made sure her mike was off as she took deep breaths to try and settle her stomach's reaction to the sight and stench. Too late to throw up now,  she admonished herself. Everything is over. Suddenly she had what she had heard others call "the shakes."

Jeff apparently noticed, for he discreetly squeezed her hand, retracted his faceplate, waited for her to retract hers, and quietly said, "It's the result of all the adrenaline in your system having nowhere to go. It's normal. Most of us have experienced the shakes at one time or another, some more times than others. When you're new, it can really be a bitch. Try to relax; we'll walk around a bit to give your body time to settle down before we go inside."

As they walked over to look at the other tree that had been downed by a lightning strike, "By the way, well done, Lieutenant," the Prime said, formally. Then with a grin, "Looks like you're not a virgin anymore. Expect the team to kid you about your 'lousy shooting' and whatever else they can think of to deride you about. Please don't take offense about it. It's a combat team's way of welcoming you. You took out one enemy, and you didn't panic under fire. You continued to lay down cover fire while the team flanked, and you did not flinch from your duty in any way, despite the danger. The rest will come with time and training."

"The rest will come with time and training." Her mind hung onto his comment, repeating it over and over. Does that mean ... Is he going to let me train for a combat team — train with his team? Will they ever accept me as an equal? Crap, I felt like a fumbling idiot as soon as I started down that ramp. Half the time, I couldn't even tell what was going on. I was so busy trying to keep from getting my head blown off that I'm amazed I even hit one of them.

Jeff found a garden hose at the back of the house and they washed most of the mud off their gloves and all-weather uniforms. Sergeant Gomez walked over as they were finishing up. "I have another barrel for your weapon, Sir," Gomez said. "My AI shows that you were one of the ones who fired at max?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, taking the power pack from his rifle, then handing the weapon to the Sergeant.

"You, Ma'am?" he asked as he quickly took the near burned out barrel from Jeff's rifle, dropping the old barrel in a puddle to cool while he installed the new one in the rifle.

"No, Sergeant," Kayla responded. "I went through four power packs, but I didn't fire at max."

"Okay, it should be good, but I'll check your weapon properly when we get back."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Gomez quickly reassembled the pulse rifle and handed it back to Jeff, who checked the weapon, put the power pack in and thanked the Sergeant. He picked up the nearly burned-out barrel, slung the water out of it, put it in his pack, and went looking for another trooper.

Jeff turned back to Kayla, "Ready to go talk to the people inside the house?"

"Me?" she said. "I don't know anything..."

"The agent might very well be living with us. From what the General has told me from his source, the guy had to have seen someone high up in the slaver organization. They obviously want the agent dead, and they seem to want him dead really bad. How long do you think those helicopters loaded with mercenaries would have lasted if they had approached Matthews' Mountain, hmmm? The General has asked that I take the agent home with us, at least for a while."

"How does Whitworth know all this..." Kayla started.

"I've never asked, but it's obvious from the things that have happened before, that Whitworth and someone pretty high up in the FBI have a ... working relationship that's been productive in both directions. I think we just paid that person back for past information, and chalked up a hell of a lot of good will for the future while we were at it."

He grinned at her. "Are you ready to meet some people now?"

Kayla realized that her shakes were mostly gone. Smiling, she wanted to kiss her husband, for giving her time to stop shaking, but that would never do at the moment. Thinking about kissing him made her realize that she wanted to do a lot more than kiss him. She was suddenly horny — major horny. Body's urge to reproduce after escaping death, her anthropologist education told her, but her body didn't seem to care that her mind knew the reason; it just wanted Jeff to lie her down and fuck her. She could feel herself getting wetter by the minute.

"Sure, let's go talk to them," she said, trying to distract herself, hoping no one would smell her while she and Jeff were in the house.

"Want to screw around with them a little?" Jeff asked, a hint of laughter in his voice. I'll never let her know just how well I can smell.

Screw? she thought. Hell yeah, I want to screw, but not with them. Aloud, "Screw with them? What? How? Uh, I imagine they're a little bit uptight from all that has gone on. It might not be such a good idea to tease them just now."

"The General just told me that he has talked to his source and the source has talked to the agent in charge in the house. He's going to meet us at the back door. The General said the guy inside — Grigsby is his name — has been told to tell his people to not have weapons in their hands because they were going to be facing combat troops who might still be on edge."

Kayla had never seen Jeff quite like this. He frequently teased, but he never played practical jokes. "What are we going to do?" she asked.

"This," Jeff said as he disappeared.

A second later, Kayla activated her camouflage again. "I thought all this was a secret — a big one."

"It is," Jeff said as he started toward the house, "but they already know, anyway. This place has cameras everywhere," he continued as she remembered her AI showing her the camera locations — that she had ignored at the time because her mind had been focused on the bullets that were flying close over her head.

"So, anyway, there is no way they could ever tell anyone about this without making themselves look like nut cases."

"I'm right behind you," she got out on the command channel as she checked Jeff's icon that her AI was showing her so she could keep up with his location.

Shortly, Kayla had another reason to think that activating the camouflage wasn't such a good idea as she stumbled on the step to the back porch. Well, at least they didn't see me trip. Dammit, I can't see my feet. Until we started training with the camouflage, I didn't know I looked at my feet when I walked up stairs.

The back door was standing partway open, the light now on in the kitchen as Jeff stepped through, Kayla reaching out to touch him to keep track of exactly where he was as she took a step to the side and waited.

Grigsby, standing a short distance away, suddenly looked down at two wet places forming on the kitchen floor.

"Now," Jeff quietly said to Kayla over the channel.

The two seemed to pop into existence at the same instant. Sandra and Bobby, sitting at the kitchen table with agent Hanes, sucked in a breath.

Grigsby, Hanes and another agent who were standing in the kitchen said, "Shit," in perfect unison.

No wonder Whatley told me to make sure no one had a weapon in hand,  Grigsby thought as he took a breath and focused on the faint emblem of a silver eagle on the chest of Jeff's uniform — the insignia of a full colonel. Grigsby had thought his tour in the army was long forgotten, but a part of him suddenly wanted to come to attention. Before he could do so, the faceplate retracted into the helmet and the tall man stuck out a hand to Grigsby. Kayla retracted her faceplate as Jeff shook with the agent.

"I had rather not tell you my last name for the moment, but I'm pretty sure you're Special Agent Grigsby. Am I right?" Jeff asked.

No name tapes on their uniforms. Who the hell are these people? "Uh, yes, Sir, Colonel," Grigsby stumbled out, hating himself. "You saved our ... Uh, we really appreciate what you did for us," he corrected, thinking of the pretty female Lieutenant standing beside the Colonel.

"They're Alphas — both of them," Jeff subvocalized to Kayla on the command channel.

Kayla almost asked if he were sure, but managed to curtail the thought before she voiced it. Of course, he's sure, you idiot,  she thought.

"Good to meet you, Lieutenant," Grigsby said as he and Kayla shook. Grigsby was pleased to note that she didn't limp-wrist the handshake.

"And you're agent Hanes?" Jeff asked as he stepped toward the pajama-clad young man who was struggling to his feet at the table.

"Uh, yes, Sir," he responded as he took Jeff's hand. Turning to the nurses, "This is Sandra on my right, and Bobby beside her. They're my nurses — the best nurses in the whole world."

The sisters blushed as their eyes turned lovingly to Hanes.

Kayla was hard put to keep a grin off her face as she noted the nurses' reaction. Kayla and Jeff chatted with the four for a few minutes before Jeff turned to Grigsby, "I have orders to take the bodies with us. Suppose your people could give mine a hand out there? It's pretty gruesome, but it needs to be done if we have a chance of keeping this quiet. I suspect the folks on down the street have called the police about a war going on out here, although there are probably a lot of trees down that are blocking police and emergency crews from getting in right now."

Grigsby shrugged. "Well, the neighborhood is without power. Portable phones in the homes need electrical power to work, and it appears the whole neighborhood is out. These ladies," he continued, nodding to the two nurses, "have a backup generator, so we still have power. Judging from the violence of that storm, I suspect the power outage is widespread. Neither my private cell phone nor my agency phone can find a working tower. Total zero on bars. I've been talking to my SAC using my radio," he said, tapping his earpiece. "I doubt if anyone in the area has been able to report the battle, if they even heard it over the thunder. Besides, most of the people who live near — according to Sandra and Bobby," he said, nodding to the nurses, "are older retired people who probably had sense enough to head for the basement when the tornado sirens went off. My SAC tells me the weather people are still on with live coverage of the storm, and they started telling people in this area to go to their shelter or place of safety thirty minutes before you guys got here."

Grigsby hesitated for a second, then went on with, "My SAC has already initiated our program of misinformation in case the battle manages to hit the news. He has also, uh, 'suggested' the news media be careful about wild rumors."

"And the police?" Jeff asked.

"They and the Sheriff's Department have been told that a government agency is conducting a counter terrorism training exercise in the area. Any calls about gunfire from this general area will be diverted to the FBI."

Jeff nodded his agreement. "We'll take care of getting rid of the bodies, and the rain will wash away most of the blood. Suppose your people can dispose of the weapons and expended ammunition cases? No way will we be able to find all that brass out there tonight."

Grigsby grinned at Jeff. "Without you guys, we would be dead now. Before the public sees the area, it will be pristine." Grigsby paused for a second, and even though he had promised himself he wouldn't ask, "How did you take out thirty mercenaries that quickly?" But before Jeff could answer, Grigsby suddenly looked contrite. "Crap, I'm sorry. I didn't even ask about your people..."

Jeff looked at Grigsby, the Prime's face, unreadable. "Three casualties — one serious."

"Can we do anything?"

"They're being taken care of, and my, uh, medics got to the critical one in time. There are no worries."

Jeff turned back to Art, who looking weary, had reseated himself at the table with the nurses fussing over him. "Want to go somewhere where this won't happen again?" the Colonel asked the young agent?

Art managed a chuckle. "I'm beginning to feel like I have a target painted on my back. You sure there is such a place? They didn't seem to have any problem tracking us here."

"Mind if we sit?"

"Oh, my," Sandra said. "I guess we're still shook about the battle. Welcome to our home. Please sit, both of you."

"Can we get you anything to drink?" Bobby asked. "It seems odd ... to sit around a table and talk after so much has just happened. I..."

"No," Kayla spoke up for the two of them. "We're fine," she finished as she and Jeff traded glances and Jeff shook his head.

Grigsby, taking the other agents who were in the kitchen with him, left to go to the living room to get his people started helping Jeff's team with the bodies.

Jeff turned to agent Hanes. "My boss has talked to the SAC at the Atlanta office. I have orders to offer you a safe place to stay."

Hanes sighed, "I'll go anywhere that these assholes can't come after me and endanger the people who are trying to protect me. It has to be somewhere I can spend some time with a sketch artist, though. The technicians have been trying to match the pictures the sketch artist comes up with to the FBI's database. I saw a number of people while I was with this group, and judging by how much they seem to want me dead, I must have seen someone important to them."

"I know a person who could work with you, and we'll also be close enough to another office of the FBI for them to involve one of their artists if that would work out better."

Grigsby had returned to the kitchen and dragged up a chair. Having heard Jeff's comment, the ASAC said, "My boss has already told me that agent Hanes would be going with you."

Jeff looked over at Art. "We need to get your gear together..."

Hanes let out a chuckle. "Well, you're basically looking at it. I do have another pajama set, though. And I have a few clothes at the apartment where three of the slaver's people and I lived. But going back there would probably not be the healthiest thing for me to do right now," he chuckled. "And..." he said, stretching out the word, "there are three of us, now."

"We're going with him," the nurses said in unison, making Jeff wonder again if they were twins, but he had been told they were just sisters.

"I've promised, Colonel. Where I go; they go," he said, stressing the sentence.

"We're his women," Bobby elaborated.

Before she could say anything else, Kayla reached to touch the nurses' hands. "Your man is an Alpha. That's all that needs to be said."

"An Alpha?" both nurses repeated.

"We'll talk about that later," Jeff said, "but for now, consider it settled that the three of you are going together. Now, don't you have some packing to do? And ... try to take everything of a personal nature you might ever need or want. Pictures, mementos, that type of thing. We have plenty of room. Of course, you won't need any furniture or anything like that."

The nurses had expected the Colonel to say something about restricting their luggage because of not having adequate free space in their vehicle or vehicles. It took a second for his comment to sink in. "We have a good bit of money tied up in reloading equipment. Do you think there'll be room to take that?" Sandra asked.

"Certainly. You will probably never need to reload again as far as having ammunition to practice with is concerned, though. The only reason you would reload would be because you wanted to as a hobby. We have all the ammunition you could ever shoot, and we have an indoor range. When the weather permits, you can use the outdoor one as well."

The nurses looked at each other for a moment, then Bobby turned her gaze back to Jeff. "We have boxes that the reloading equipment came in, but the equipment, powder, bullets and all the other stuff will take up a lot of space in a vehicle. Are you sure you have enough room? What kind of vehicle do you have? We could always leave..."

Kayla stood and slipped her rifle off her shoulder, handing the weapon to Jeff. "I'll help you," she said, turning to the nurses, "Let's get you started packing."

Bobby and Sandra had expected trouble if the FBI moved Art again, even though Art had told them he wouldn't leave without the two of them. They had been prepared to present their side to this Colonel, but he never even blinked when he was told that they were going with Art. And the female Lieutenant didn't object, either. Moreover, she had suggested helping them to get ready. It had crossed the nurses' minds that these people, whoever they were, might still try to slip off with Art while they (the nurses) were packing, but that wasn't going to happen with the Lieutenant helping them pack.

Sandra jumped up, hurried to a kitchen cabinet and took out a box of trash bags. "Let's go. We can stuff most of our clothes into our travel bags, but we can put makeup and toilet articles in these, plus anything else that doesn't fit in our travel bags. When we're done, we can take care of the reloading equipment."

"Ma'am," Bobby said as the three hurried down the hall, "we really appreciate this. We fell in love with Art. We haven't known him nearly long enough, but somehow..."

As they turned into Bobby's room, Kayla closed the door behind them. "Call me, Kayla, and just let me say this before we start packing. When an Alpha meets the right woman, or women as the case may be, he attracts them. The Colonel is my husband, and I'm not his only wife. As soon as Jeff told me your man was an Alpha and agent Hanes said you were his women, it was a done deal. We would no more think about splitting up you three than we would think about splitting up a mother and her infant. Although the simile may not be precise, I hope you get my point. You're going with us, period. We will provide a beautiful place for you to live, and it would take a regiment to get past our defenses — if even they could, which I sorely doubt. Now, let's get your clothes packed."

Grigsby knocked, then stuck his head in the bedroom door. "I have two people packing up your reloading equipment. If you want anything else, let me know."

"Thanks," the nurses said in unison.

When the door closed, Kayla turned back to the two women. "He's an Alpha, too, but we'll discuss that later. Now what do you need me to do?"

Bobby opened her closet door, took out her travel bags and put them on the bed. Back at the closet, she reached in and put her arm around a dozen hanging garments. After Sandra helped her get the hangers loose from the bar, Bobby laid the clothes on the bed, folded the whole thing in half, and the two of them stuffed the clothing, hangers and all, into a travel bag.

Kayla looked at the two nurses and chuckled to herself. "Got anything you don't want me to see?" she asked as she stood next to a chest of drawers.

"We each have a couple vibrators, but if it doesn't bother you to see them, then it certainly doesn't bother us. Have at it," Sandra laughed.

"My sisters and I have just about every toy that's sold," Kayla said, pulling out a drawer and depositing a dozen pairs of panties into another travel bag. She pulled a second drawer open. This one contained bras and socks. Gathering the items up, she deposited them in the bag. "We're going to get along just fine. Oh, and one of my sisters is a nurse."

"How many sisters do you have?" Bobby asked as she and Sandra worked together again to get the rest of the clothes out of the closet.

"I'll tell you when we get there," Kayla said, mysteriously.

Bobby and Sandra hesitated for a second, looked at each other and shrugged.

-------

In the kitchen, Jeff looked over as Grigsby came back in. "Could we talk in private while the nurses are getting their things?"

"Sure," Grigsby answered. "We can go to the den."

"Can you make it that far?" Jeff asked Hanes.

"Wait. I misunderstood," Grigsby said. "I thought you meant just me." Turning to an agent who had just walked into the kitchen, "Could you give us a minute, Russell?"

"Sure, Sir," the agent responded, quickly donning his raincoat and walking out the back door to go help with the cleanup.

Jeff looked over at Grigsby. "Neither of you understand what I'm talking about at the moment, but I need your word you won't tell what I'm about to say to anyone. I need an Alpha's word."

"I'm not sure what an Alpha is," Grigsby spoke up, "but I'll keep whatever you're about to say private unless what you describe is breaking the law in some way."

"No laws involved. I need you to say it. I give you my word."

Grigsby sighed, looked over at Hanes, then back to Jeff. They locked eyes and suddenly Grigsby seemed to feel the Colonel's sincerity and ... something else. "Alright, under the stipulation I've just mentioned, I give you my word."

"You have my word as well," Hanes said.

Jeff hadn't really meant to have Hanes give his word, since Jeff would soon block the young agent, anyway, but the Prime went on without mentioning it. "The three of us are Alphas. We are just a little bit different. One day we'll all be together. For now, Special Agent Grigsby, I need a scrap of paper."

Grigsby shrugged and pulled a small notepad out of his pocket and tore off a sheet.

Jeff took it and jotted down a number. "I could give you my card, but I had rather do it this way. Memorize the number and dispose of the scrap of paper. I just don't want any ties between anything that has happened here and Agent Hanes. If I left my card with you and it somehow got in the hands of the slavers, it wouldn't take them long to find me and him. Or at least find our location. No use tempting fate." Jeff stared at Grigsby again, "If you ever need help — any kind of help, you call that number and ask for Jeff. You'll get what you need — that's my promise. You have my word."

Again, Grigsby could swear he felt something as the Colonel locked eyes with him.

"We'll meet again," Jeff said, "and one day, you'll understand what I mean."

-------

THE MATTHEWS' SUITE

None of Jeff's wives had even mentioned going back to bed. Finally, Ellen had called with an update — one trooper seriously injured, two others with minor injuries. Jeff and Kayla were unhurt. The operation was winding down as the cleanup progressed.

The relief of tension in the room produced overly loud laughter on occasion from teasing and jokes that weren't that funny. Selina asked, and received permission to go get her kitten, worrying that he would be lonesome by himself. Jennie and Ann were just finishing a game of chess when Selina and Billy came back. The two girls were lying on the bed on their stomachs, facing each other with the board between them. Neither of them were really trying that hard to win, but had been playing in an attempt to try and get their minds off their husband and Kayla.

Game over, Jennie looked around. "Anyone else want to play before we put the board up?"

As if Billy understood, he jumped from Selina's arms to the bed, ran over, grabbed a pawn and took off with it in his mouth. "No,  Billy," Selina yelled at him, but the kitten paid no mind to his mistress.

Jumping off the bed, he raced across the big room and ran toward one of the dressers. The bottom was only a few inches off the floor, but he pushed himself under it to hide — leaving his tail sticking out. Selina grabbed his tail, but he jerked loose with a, "Rrrooowww," wiggled out the side, and took off again. Selina was almost on top of him reaching for the pawn as he dodged in different directions by extending his claws to grip the carpet on the abrupt turns.

None of Jeff's mates offered to help Selina, and most were rooting Billy on as the chase continued. He began to realize that the others were not going to interfere, and he also quickly figured out that a woman standing in the room became an obstacle to his mistress but not to him. Darting between someone's legs produced a giggle from the human, and his mistress even collided with one of them.

Everything was going fine until he made a tactical error after running under the bed. Instead of going straight through to the other side, he turned left and came out at the bottom — just as his mistress got there.

Selina scooped the errant kitten into her hand, which produced a startled squawk from the tiny feline. He dropped the chess piece in her hand, looked up at her and said, "Mmeeow," in the tiniest, most precious-sounding voice he could muster — innocence perkittenified.



-------

Chapter 134

THE NURSES' HOME

Several agents were standing in the back yard of the nurses' home waiting to use the hose to wash the blood and gore off their hands and raincoats after the gruesome job of removing the bodies. "Jackson, you okay?" Belcher asked as the other agent bent over and dry heaved yet again.

"I may give up eating," Jackson said, wiping his mouth as he managed to stand back up. Sighing, "Plus, I've made a fool out of myself puking my guts out over and over."

"Ah, you aren't the only one who threw up; I thought I was going to several times. I know you've seen dead bodies before, so what was it that set you off?"

"Bodies, yeah, I've seen dead bodies, but those two under that tree over there," he said pointing, "were ... different. There were pieces of them scattered all around. One of them had a big chunk of wood from the tree buried in what used to be a chest. They must have really pissed off those guys..."

"And gals," Belcher supplied. "Some of them are women."

Jackson shrugged. "Yeah, you're right." He partially turned and waved in the general direction of the Ship. "What about that ramp to nowhere? I started to step up on it to help unload the wheelbarrow we had filled with body parts, but one of those troopers grabbed my arm and told me to just put ... everything down on the ramp, but to stay off it. I looked back after we had walked away a few steps. The body parts we had piled there were ... gone. The ramp just goes up there and ends. Somehow, what we piled on it just ... disappeared."

"Yeah, I know, same thing with the bodies we unloaded from the stretcher. I tried to ask Grigsby what was going on, but if he knows anything, he wouldn't say. He just told me again to do what these people asked, and if one of them said jump, to not even bother asking how high, but to just jump as fucking high as I could."

"Well, they did save our bacon. One RPG into that house and we would have all been dead." The two stood for a moment without speaking, then, "How do they see out here? They obviously can, so their night vision apparatus has to be inside those helmets they're wearing, but you can't see past the faceplates to really tell. I doubt if I've heard them say ten words while we were cleaning up."

Another agent finished with the hose and handed it to Belcher. "Thanks," he said, then turning to Jackson, "Hold out your hands. I'll get them first then work on your raincoat." He rattled on trying to divert his own mind from his friend's blood and gore-splattered coat. "Yeah, they're obviously talking to each other, but they must have some type of throat mike or something. Did you see those two big guys? They were taking two bodies at a time on that stretcher, and jogging with it."

When Belcher turned the hose on Jackson's chest, a chunk of something fell off with the spray of water. Belcher's stomach rolled as he realized it was a fragment of brain tissue.

Jackson, not noticing, answered, "Yeah, I saw them. We were lucky to find that wheelbarrow to use for the pieces of the two guys they must have shot out of that tree. That was just fucking ... gross."

Belcher suddenly spun away and threw up.

"Hey, Guy, what's wrong?" Jackson said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Belcher finally got out. After a minute he stood back up and concentrated on taking deep breaths.

Grigsby walked up and put his hand on Belcher's arm. "Get to you?"

"Yeah. It did," he said with a shaking voice, "but I'm okay now."

"Good," Grigsby said, handing Belcher a waste can. The rain suddenly went from hard to downpour again. Grigsby pulled the collar of his raincoat tight about his neck, wishing he had brought a rain suit with a hood. The two agents seemed unconcerned, since they couldn't get much wetter, raincoats or not. "Start here in the back and get all the shell casings picked up," the ASAC said. "And I do mean all. The SAC is feeding all the misinformation he can to the news media, but I suspect we'll be seeing some of them as soon as the streets are cleared out enough for them to get into the area. He is adamant about no one knowing what happened here, and he's absolutely right. I for one don't want to be ridiculed for the rest of my life about invisible men having a battle, so you guys think hard when the temptation comes to tell anybody about what happened tonight, your families included. And ... it goes without saying that it would not be conducive to your careers. Capiche?"

"Crap, Sir, we're not going to tell anybody, but the neighbors down the street are bound to have heard something with all that shooting going on, thunder or not."

Grigsby shook his head, then with a sly grin, "I'm told some government agency had an anti-terrorist training exercise out here. That's all we 'know, ' and that's all we're going to say. Alright, Gentlemen, No brass, no weapons, no blood by morning. I think all this rain will take care of the blood, so we just need to get the brass and weapons. The news media can speculate all they want. Without evidence they'll look like idiots. And about the empty casings, any time you get fed up with crawling around looking for brass, just remember, had it not been for these people, whoever they are, we would be the ones who would be headed for the morgue — all of us."

"Yes, Sir," both agents said. Even with them having to search in the dark with night vision gear or flashlights, they knew that Grigsby would not be pleased if someone later found evidence of what had happened here. He was a good ASAC, but he was not someone you wanted to piss off.

"You won't be by yourself," Grigsby continued, "Everybody will be helping — including the technicians, who incidentally, didn't bother to bring rain gear. They won't forget it next time. They're just lucky it's seventy-five degrees. Finding that brass would really be a bitch if it were 35 degrees and raining this hard," he finished, grimly. "As soon as these troopers, as they call themselves, leave, I'll be out here to help, too."

-------

The nurses' travel bags, computers, and other belongings were stacked on the table and floor of the kitchen. Everything was protected from the rain by garbage bags held in place with duct tape.

Two troopers stood ready with a freshly-cleaned stretcher.

Hanes sat at the table, while the two nurses stood next to him, still worried that they would be left behind, despite the fact that all their belongings were ready to leave with them.

"I hate to see you go," Grigsby said, addressing Hanes and the nurses.

"You'll see them again," Jeff said, "one way or another."

Grigsby put out a hand to shake with Hanes. "Take care."

"You, too," Hanes replied, squeezing Grigsby's hand. "I appreciate all that you've done for me."

"My job," Grigsby said. Turning to the nurses, "We'll take care of your house. The SAC will probably be in touch about buying it for a safe house." He put out his hand to Bobby.

Ignoring the hand, she stepped into his arms and hugged him tight, then kissed him on the cheek. "We'll never forget you."

"Same here," Grigsby returned.

Bobby stepped back and Sandra took her place, tears now streaming down both nurses' faces.

"Your chariot awaits," Jeff said as he reached to help Hanes to stand, but Bobby and Sandra beat him to it.

"We suspect they used satellites to track our vehicles here. Considering everything that has happen tonight, they might very well observe your leaving with Agent Hanes on the stretcher," Grigsby worried.

"They very easily could see us as we walk across the yard and field," Jeff agreed, "but they'll find it a little more difficult to track us when we leave."

Grigsby let out a nervous chuckle, "Well, with that ramp to nowhere sitting out there, you might very well be right."

With a subvocalized word from Jeff, the team filed through to take the nurses' belongings to the ship. The trooper with the slight wound and the other with the sprained ankle were already back with the group. The agents all stood on the back porch to thank the team yet again.

Grigsby held out his raincoat for Hanes. "I'll get another when I get back to the office," Grigsby said before Hanes could object.

When Hanes had donned the raincoat, Bobby and Sandra helped him onto the stretcher. On the porch, all the agents came by to quickly shake hands with Hanes and wish him well. As the stretcher bearers stepped off the porch with their burden, Sandra held her umbrella over Art to protect his face from the downpour, while Bobby walked on the other side holding his hand.

It was a good thing that neither of the three could hear the subvocalized chatter on the troop channel. None of it was derogatory toward the nurses or Hanes, but it was ... suggestive. Kayla, listening in, could feel her face flush, but realized that the troopers were men and women letting down after a combat mission. And ... their comments about the three were doubtlessly true. It was obvious that the nurses did have plans for the young agent.

-------

Inside the Ship, Jeff's team retracted their faceplates. Art sat up on the stretcher, turned and put his feet on the deck. The nurses helped him to stand and walk the couple of steps to a long bench-like seat, Bobby and Sandra settling beside him.

Most of the team, with the exception of Jeff, Kayla, Lieutenant Richardson, Sergeant Gomez and the two medics, found seats around the big room and relaxed.

"Where are we?" Bobby said, looking around.

Jeff caught her eye. "Roughly nineteen miles above your home."

Bobby and Sandra looked at each other frowning, but before they could decide if the Colonel were joking or not, a wall seemed to become a window looking down into the darkness. There were thick clouds well below them, and lightning flashes in the distance far to the south where the main part of the storm now raged. The world below gradually lightened as their viewpoint seemed to hurtle downward, the scene transitioning from dark to day as the ship compensated. Plunging through the clouds, they seemed to hover a hundred yards above the nurses' home.

The people they had just left were in the field where the mercenaries had fought. At Jeff's mental command the viewpoint zoomed in on one individual, who without a raincoat, knelt in the mud and water searching for expended bullet casings. As he raised his face for a moment to say something to another of the agents, they realized that the person was Grigsby.

"Where are we?" Sandra said in a shaky voice. "Surely we can't be as high up as you say. We just stepped in here."

"You're..." Kayla got out, but before she could mention the Ship, the block stopped her. Sinking onto one of the padded seats that had seemed to grow from the floor as the group came in, she looked stunned.

"We have a lot to tell you," Jeff quietly said, "An awful lot. For now, suffice it to say that you are aboard a starship, a self-aware starship."

"Those weapons," Sandra said, her eyes focusing on Jeff's pulse rifle. "Surely you're not..." Sandra started, but wound down.

"No," Jeff chuckled, "we're human."

"But ... how could we be so high up?" Art asked, nodding to the viewscreen. "Or is that a satellite shot? I certainly haven't felt us move. We couldn't be as high as that seemed to indicate before it zoomed downward."

"Do you think that scene is faked?" Jeff asked, motioning to Grigsby's image.

As Jeff spoke, the scene began to change, the viewpoint gaining altitude until the nurses' home and yard now filled the screen, the scene showing all the agents still scrambling around picking up the expended casings the dead mercenaries had left.

After a moment, Hanes sighed and said, "No. No, it's obvious that we're looking at my people picking up the mercenaries' brass."

Jeff suddenly turned toward one of the healing chambers, walking over as the fog inside the chamber dissipated, the hood disappeared and the trooper sat up. "Welcome back," the Prime said with a grin.

"What happened?" Donaldson asked, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Did I get hit?"

One of the medics responded, "A direct hit to your faceplate probably caused your head to slap back, which in turn caused a concussion that made you black out. You had a torn femoral artery and another slight wound as well. The Healer stopped the bleeding and we got you to the chamber for the rest of your healing. How do you feel?"

"Great," the trooper said, then flinched as he realized that Little One was climbing up his uniform to sit on his shoulder.

Jeff reached over, picked her up and put her on his shoulder. Thank you,  Jeff thought to her.

He took a second to unscramble the information she sent back to him. {{{ I could have healed him completely. There was no real reason to put him in the chamber. }}}

Jeff decided there had been a distinct tone of ... hurt pride, and perhaps indignation as well.

We know, Baby,  he projected.

"Might want to pull your pants up before you stand," one of the medics said with a grin.

"What ... oh crap," Donaldson responded as he looked down.

Bobby and Sandra giggled. "We're both nurses," Sandra offered.

"Trust us. You have nothing we haven't seen before — many, many times," Bobby added.

Embarrassed anyway, the trooper quickly pulled his pants up and fastened them. Jeff offered a hand to help the trooper stand.

"My helmet?"

"Bullet fragment trashed the computer," Sergeant Gomez said. "I'll issue you a new helmet when we get back."

The trooper bent over a little looking at his upper thigh where he had discovered a bullet hole in his pants, front and back. "But there's no blood on my uniform," he said, puzzled.

"The Ship took care of the blood when you passed through the hatch. Same thing with the mud and water on our uniforms. It's all gone."

Bobby, Sandra and Hanes were staring at Little One perched on Jeff's shoulder. "You're saying that ... healed him?" Bobby said. "What is it? Is it alive?"

"Yeah," Jeff responded, "she repaired the artery, and given time, would have completely healed him, but we used the healing chamber since the Ship was with us. And yes, Little One is alive. She's an alien AI, but we'll talk more about that later. Right now, we need to get you well, Art," Jeff said, directing his attention to the young agent.

"You want me to go into that thing?" Hanes said, motioning to one of the healing chambers, his skepticism obvious.

"We don't know whether it's safe or not. There's no way we're going to allow our patient..." Bobby started.

Jeff smirked at her. "Are you still wet?"

Art and his ladies started and looked down at their clothes just as the floor disappeared beneath them. It was as if they were standing on air, well, what little air there was nineteen miles up. The nurses both grabbed Art, but before they could take a breath to scream, the floor/deck was again solid.

"I assure you that we are, indeed, on a ship well above your home. You might consider this little lady on my shoulder," Jeff said, caressing Little One, "as the most advanced medic you could ever imagine — and that's actually an understatement of her abilities. The chamber that the trooper just stepped out of is a healing chamber. It's capable of healing as well as other functions, and it is quicker than the Healer can be because of power considerations and other things. One like it saved my life when I was hit by a sniper's bullet. Little One and a healing chamber saved my daughter's life a few days ago. Art, you can either trust me and get in the chamber, or take another six months to — maybe — heal completely. Then again, that hip might well leave you with a limp if you allow nature to take care of the job."

"That thing..." Hanes began.

"We call her Little One. Like I said, she's an alien AI, and yes, she's alive in every sense of the word."

"Oh, shit," Hanes muttered, "she really is an alien then, huh?"

"Afraid so," Jeff chuckled. "Sorry to startle you with the deck becoming transparent, but sometimes the old adage about a picture being worth a thousand words still proves itself to be true. Looking down from nineteen miles up gets your attention far more quickly than my arguing with you about where we are, and I needed you to realize that you weren't just looking at a vision screen on a wall. As I said, we're aboard a self-aware starship. Her technology is so far beyond ours that she, basically, doesn't even recognize our civilization as having technology."

Before the nurses or Hanes could say anything, Jeff stepped over, put his hand on Art's shoulder and locked eyes with him. "I give you my word that I'm not lying about anything I've told you."

Hanes' eyes widened for an instant. Suddenly, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man was telling the truth. I can feel him. How in the hell can I feel him?

"You're an Alpha, like I told you earlier," Jeff said, stressing the word, "and I'm an Alpha. Soon you will know and believe that we can never lie to each other — never."

"I believe you. I'll use the thing. The ... chamber."

Kayla spoke up, "Jeff is a..." But the block shut her down again, her stomach suddenly becoming very queasy. Dammit, they need to know my husband is a Prime. He isn't just an Alpha, but I can't say it,  she fumed to herself, proud of her husband and wanting these people to know more about him. Jeff had already told her he would block all three of them.

Jeff smiled at Kayla, then continued to Art, "I need you in the chamber before we translate."

"How long will he have to stay in it?" Sandra asked, wondering what a translation was, and turning an untrusting eye on the chamber Jeff was motioning to.

The Prime shrugged. "I really don't know. The Ship is now fully familiar with human physiology, but I know little about Art's injuries or how much his body has already healed itself. Even so, I would estimate a maximum of two hours, but he's an Alpha. That could alter the process one way or another, I guess. You can stay with him the whole time, if you wish."

"We wish," both nurses said.

Art took the few steps over to a chamber, and with the nurses help, stepped inside, sat, then lay down. Before he could say anything, the mists covered him and the chamber's field formed over it. A seat big enough for the nurses rose from the floor beside the chamber.

Stunned, both women seated themselves and put their hands on the chamber, trying to stare past the mists to see their mate.

Jeff touched the nurses' shoulders for a moment. "Kayla and I are going to leave you for a little while. Within minutes, we'll be at our home. Before we descend, I'll open a viewscreen so you can see the mountains covered in snow. It will still be dark, but the ship will compensate for that. The translation bothers some more than others, but don't worry, it will be over in a second."

Bobby and Sandra looked at him, wondering what he was talking about.

Jeff, nodding to a frustrated Kayla, reached out to take her hand.

"That dammed block," she said through gritted teeth as they turned to walk down the corridor. "I could have helped them understand, but the block wouldn't let me talk. I wasn't going to say anything that would compromise us. You had Little One fix you; what about getting rid of my block as well?"

Jeff held his collar open for Little One, then put his arm around Kayla's shoulders as they walked toward the bridge, not responding to her.

"You can obviously communicate with the Ship from back there," Kayla said, wisely changing the subject. "Why do we even need to go to the bridge?"

"Because I can only fully ... integrate with her from a command couch. Oh, she can obviously take us home without me, but she wants me on the bridge for some reason. Each time I sit on that couch, I ... Hell, I don't know. I just know she wants me there, and when I'm there I feel like I'm part of her."

"Just hold my hand when we lie down on those couches," Kayla said, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Feeling her mind terrifies me. I didn't feel any ... malevolence, but ... it's a little like hanging over a bottomless pit with winds of ... information threatening to blow me off my perch. When I think about something, I'm suddenly thinking of a thousand different things at the same time. I must have thought of the Earth beneath us, and it suddenly cascaded into the whole galaxy and a million other things. If it hadn't been for you..." She suddenly shut up when she realized she was almost babbling. She scares me more than the battle did,  she thought.

When they stepped onto the bridge, Kayla stopped to look around. "There's practically nothing in here, yet when I lie back on that couch..."

"She won't hurt you — not with me here to guide her. She would never intentionally hurt you, even if I were not here. She knows you're my mate. With the pilots who tried to fly her, they weren't supposed to be here, at least as far as she was concerned. She ... abided them; didn't intentionally hurt them. Their minds simply couldn't ... attune to her."

"The ship was made for a Prime, like Diana says," Kayla offered.

"Perhaps," Jeff responded as he sat, then lay back on his couch, motioning for Kayla to do the same.

Kayla grabbed his hand, cautiously sat, then laid back.

The Earth unfolded beneath her. She felt the team; felt the nurses as they worried about their new mate.

Prepare to jump,  she heard Jeff say in her mind. She wondered again how she was supposed to do that. She thought about the nurses, wondering how they would react.

Her body seemed to turn itself wrong-side-out. This time, she felt the nurses' bodies as well. Shaken, she lay squeezing Jeff's hand as she fought to control her stomach. Don't puke inside your helmet. Don't puke inside your helmet,  she admonished herself repeatedly.

The nurses weren't quite so lucky. Bobby threw up, and seeing her triggered Sandra to follow suit. It was spontaneous and they didn't have time to even think about a bathroom to do it in. Now, they sat staring as their stomachs' contents faded away on the carpet.

Sandra looked at her sister. "Of all things to make me believe," she said, fighting not to giggle insanely, "I surely never expected it to be my vomit." She reached out to rub her hand over the now-dry carpet beside her.

"What the hell was that?" Bobby hissed out. "I felt like I..."

"Yeah, me too," her sister assured her. "Whatever we did, I could do without for the rest of my life."

A viewscreen opened along the wall, the scene of the snow-covered mountains coming into focus as the Ship compensated for the night.

The nurses stood to look. "Those are..." Bobby started as Kayla and Jeff walked up.

"The Rocky Mountains just outside Winter Park, Colorado," Kayla said.

"They're beautiful," the nurses said in unison.

The screen focused on what appeared to be a big hotel, then the view suddenly rocketed downward.

"It's us this time," Jeff said, "not just the view that's moving."

The nurses barely had time to cringe before the Ship stopped to hover above the range. After a moment, she glided toward the building, coming to stop not far from the helipad.

Someone, probably Arlene, Jeff thought, had used the snow blower to clear a wide path across the frozen ground to connect with the parking lot. The ship had dropped her ramp onto the beginning of the cleared area. The Sergeant took charge of Kayla's and Jeff's pulse rifles to check them out completely. Jeff congratulated his unit on a job well done, then dismissed them. They grabbed up the nurses' belongings and jogged down the ramp toward the inside garage.

Those left inside the Ship continued to watch on the viewscreen as the doors of the garage opened and two Escalades sped backward, slewed around, then accelerated, tires spinning in the couple of inches of new snowfall that had accumulated since the snow blower had been used. The troopers stepped to the side as the two vehicles raced toward the helipad and the Ship.

Security's Escalades entered the parking lot from the direction of the driveway, then made their way to stop near the inside garage where they waited for the troopers to deposit their burdens.

Jeff motioned toward the viewscreen and addressed the nurses in a quiet voice, "I think that very shortly you're going to meet my wives."

"No shit, Sherlock," Kayla giggled. "I'm going to stand well out of the way."

"Wives?" the nurses both said.

"Yep. Thirteen of them," Kayla said proudly. "With me, there's fourteen of us."

"Oh," Bobby and Sandra quietly said as they watched the Escalades come to a sliding halt and all the doors slam open.

"Looks like they didn't waste time putting on coats," Kayla commented as women piled out of the vehicles and ran the few steps to the Ship's ramp. Their tight tops made it obvious that they hadn't bothered with bras, either. A couple of seconds later, Selina exited to follow Jeff's wives at a more sedate pace. "That's our Queen in the lead," Kayla got out a couple of seconds before Diana ran in and piled into Jeff, staggering him backward.

Kayla stood chuckling for a second before she was hit by Arlene, who wrapped her arms around her and squeezed tightly. Soon, both Jeff and Kayla were surrounded by teary-eyed women who hugged and kissed them, asking if they were all right, and welcoming them home.

Selina squirmed her way into the group and put her arms around Jeff's belly to hug him. Laughing, he grabbed her up and hugged her back.

After a while, Jeff raised his hand a little and looked at his wives. As quiet settled about the rejoicing group, he turned to Bobby and Sandra. "I couldn't tell you my name back there for fear that the slaver organization would hear of it and have a way to locate Art and you two. I'm Jeff Matthews. These are my wives, and this is Selina, one of our resident geniuses," he said, smiling as he put his hand on Selina's shoulder. "Welcome to Matthews' Mountain and your new home."



-------

Chapter 135

THE RETREAT

After the introductions, Bobby and Sandra resumed their seats beside the healing chamber. Diana was soon seated with them and carrying on a quiet conversation. When Jeff stepped over to his Queen, she reached to take his hand. "I'm going to sit with them while they wait for the chamber to finish with their mate," she told her husband.

Turning to Laura, Diana continued, "Send us a plate back when you eat, please, Love."

"Sure," Laura responded.

Laura didn't ask the nurses what they would like to eat. Jeff almost made a comment, but managed to clamp his mouth shut just in time to keep from embarrassing himself when he suddenly realized that this was Laura. She would send some of everything, most probably, and the food would be beautifully presented as well.

Jeff watched Selina quietly withdraw and start down one of the passageways. He touched the Ship's mind for a moment, but made no effort to say anything to the six-year-old.

He caught Diana's eye for an instant before walking a little way away. When his Queen came to him, he said, quietly, "Baby, we have a ... tradition in the unit. After a true combat mission and our safe return, we have a steak and egg breakfast — no matter what time of day. It started a long time ago, and..."

"You're afraid to break with tradition because your luck might turn," Diana completed for him.

Jeff let out a quiet sigh. "I ... yeah. We've never voiced it, but I imagine all of us feel that way. We also use the time for our after-incident debriefing. It's all a way for us to wind down, and also review the things we did right, and ... the things we screwed up on, while everything is fresh on our minds."

Diana reached up and put a hand on either side of her husband's face. "I was looking forward to breakfast with my husband where you could share everything that happened, but ... I understand. We'll wait until you get back, but understand this, Husband, all of your wives are frantic to know what happened. You can't just run out in the middle of the night to save a group of FBI agents, then return home like nothing happened. You have no idea how afraid we were for you two."

"I'm sorry, Baby. It was something that had to be done."

"Kayla is going with you, I suppose?" she asked.

"Yeah, Babe. And I'm proud of her. She did well — very well indeed for a first combat mission, particularly with no more combat training than she has had. The Sergeant made a point of inviting her to our breakfast. She isn't actually a part of the unit, of course, but she fought with us today. There doesn't seem to be any resentment to her being with us this morning."

Diana pulled his face down and kissed him hard. Turning, she walked over to Kayla, who was standing back to give the Queen time with their husband. Taking Kayla's face in her hands, Diana kissed her sister-wife every bit as hard as she had Jeff, although the duration was much shorter. "We were scared out of our minds for you," she whispered in Kayla's ear.

The Queen stepped back. "Now, you two go do your thing, but please return as soon as you can. We're dying to hear about what happened."

Jeff ushered Kayla in front of him as they walked through the hatch. She grabbed Jeff's arm, snuggling to him as they penetrated the forcefield and hit the cold, but the all-weather uniform quickly adjusted. At the bottom of the ramp, they waited, helmets in hand, as one of Security's Escalades came toward them and stopped. A security trooper jumped out and opened one of the back doors for the Colonel and Lieutenant.

"You sure you want me to be part of this?" Kayla quietly asked as she and Jeff slid into the second seat. The driver turned the vehicle around and started for the Ski Lodge. "I know this is tradition," she continued, "but I'm not a member of the unit and..."

"The Sergeant said the team asked him to invite you. You fought with them, and they respect that. You killed one of the mercenaries, which I doubt anyone on the team expected. Gomez wouldn't have invited you unless everyone wanted you to be there — everyone. So relax. But remember, they'll hassle you — probably not as much as they would if you weren't my wife, but then again, I can't guarantee that, either. They might hassle you more because of it. Oh, and there is no rank at the breakfast table or the debriefing. Everyone is free to give his or her opinion without the worry of repercussions later. If I, or the Sergeant or the Lieutenant, did something that any of the troopers think was wrong, he or she is free to air it — without later repercussions. As you well know, we normally adhere strictly to rank, but that's not the case at this breakfast. This is one of the reasons we have become the team we are. I suspect that each of us has improved because of these debriefings.

"Two years ago when I was shot by that sniper, Lieutenant Richardson had just become part of the unit. He was good or he wouldn't have been there, of course, but he was new to the unit. I am alive because he had sense enough to use his Sergeant's expertise. Now Richardson has a number of missions under his belt and he's a vital member of the team. Unfortunately, my promotion moved me further away from them. The General thinks a Colonel has no business running a team. That's Richardson's job now as far as Whitworth is concerned, but ... I command the ship, so I had to be there with them, at least on this mission. We'll work things out in the future. I know that Whitworth didn't want me to be part of the rescue last night, but the team needed to be there in a hurry. The only way to do that was by using the Ship. So I had to go whether Whitworth liked it or not.

"And before you ask, we eventually had our debriefing breakfast after we returned from the mission where we found the Ship and I got trashed by that sniper. I fucked up and stupidly — arrogantly — got my ass shot, and ... that's a debriefing I hope to forget. I made a rookie mistake and assumed I was out of range. That stupid mistake damn near got me killed — would have but for Sergeant Gomez and his quick thinking. To say that they rode my ass at that debriefing would be an understatement — despite my having brought them home on the Ship. They had no mercy, and I deserved everything they said. I knew better, but I fucked up. That not only got me shot, but endangered the mission as well as the team."

"Now I'm more worried than ever," Kayla admitted, her voice tense.

Jeff chuckled and squeezed her hand. "They won't hold you to the same standard — yet. Besides you handled yourself just fine. You did exactly what you were ordered to do, and you did it well. What they will be doing to you will only be kidding, and trust me, you will be able to tell the difference."

Kayla turned to stare at her mate and said, "Jeff, I don't deserve to be part of this group, and I especially don't deserve to eat this meal with them. I was scared to death. On the radio, while we were fighting, they seemed to be almost ... casual about what was going on. Their voices were very ... clear and precise. Even I could tell they worked together like a machine. I did what I could, but I felt so damn inadequate."

"Time, training and experience. You picked up a touch of experience last night. They have an abundance of all three. Experience comes one year at a time for all of us. You can't rush it, no matter how hard you try. The team has been together so long, have fought so many battles together, that they think almost as one. Besides, anyone who goes into a firefight not at least a little scared, is a damn fool."

-------

A few minutes earlier.

Selina knew that Jeff had seen her, but the Queen had not because her back had been turned. The two new women — Bobby and Sandra — had eyes only for whoever was beneath the forcefield in the healing chamber. Selina was intrigued by the chambers, but it was obvious she would learn little about them at this time. This was her chance to slip away and explore the Ship.

When the Prime had looked up, Selina froze for a second as she stood in the passageway, but he said nothing to her. She saw the Prime and the Queen move away from the others to converse for a moment. Still, he did not call her back, and apparently he said nothing about her to the Queen. They kissed as Selina walked casually around a turn in the passageway.

After Jeff and Kayla had left, Diana had sat back down with Sandra and Bobby. As they conversed, the Queen glanced down the passageway and smiled to herself. She had seen her mate's eyes shift to the passageway, and she had suddenly known that Selina was sneaking away. If Diana had been asked how she knew exactly, she wouldn't have been able to specifically relate her reasoning, but years with her mate, his subtle mannerism as he glanced down the passageway, his body language, Selina's absence, plus a mother's awareness, all combined to tell her things that Selina didn't notice.

Selina was almost certain the Ship had more than one level, even though she had not ever been able to actually see the Ship. It just felt as if it did. Not it,  she told herself. She had several levels. The Prime called the Ship, "Her."

Selina had expected Jeff to call her back when he saw her start down the passageway, but he had not. With few exceptions, she had been treated as an adult by the Prime, his Queen and the others at the Retreat. Odd that my parents now call every day. I have conversed with them more in the last few days than I did in months when I lived at home. It is apparent that my Queen and my teacher have entered into dialogue with my parents. I am well pleased to note the alteration in my parent's side of conversations with me. Indeed, we have had several actual conversations, instead of adults addressing a six-year-old. Perhaps I used the incorrect strategy with them as I endeavored to project a child persona. But I did not wish to be enrolled in some school for "gifted" children. I preferred to pursue a curriculum of my own choosing. But that has changed somewhat now that I attend classes directed by a true genius.

Doctor Boswell is an extremely interesting person. She is obviously ... amused by me — and also amused by my efforts to test her knowledge. Never before have I interacted with anyone who can discuss in detail any subject I wish to explore. I have met my equal, only ... that is not entirely correct, either. She has had years to study, and I have had but a very few. With a mental sigh, No I have not met my equal. She has had time to accumulate a truly vast amount of knowledge. It will require many, many years of study to become her equal — if I ever do.

Then there are Arlene and Ann. Why did Ann call herself Arlene's handmaiden? I shall have to inquire in regard to that. Arlene isn't a genius, but she is exceedingly intelligent, and Ann is as well. Arlene has related the story of being healed on the Ship, yet she has said nothing about exploring it. Arlene is inquisitive in class, sometimes apparently even stressing Doctor Boswell to some extent with the detailed explanations that Arlene expects. She has vast intellectual curiosity, yet, she did not mention her explorations of the Ship when she was here before. Is it possible she did not explore? If she did not, then what is the explanation for that?

After turning left off the main corridor, Selina had waited just around the first corner in case the Prime or Queen would call out to her, but they had not. This should be a cross corridor since the main corridor in this direction would logically parallel the side of the ship. Odd. The central passageway seems far too long, however. She looked behind her, then stopped and turned to stare. There was now a passageway that turned right off the main corridor. That was a blank wall before. I am almost certain it was. The main corridor I began in was not very far from the entrance doorway, perhaps twenty feet. The main corridor appeared to parallel the side of the Ship, but this right side cross corridor appears to be at least one hundred yards in length, and that might be a low estimate, since I cannot see the end. That would mean that this corridor extends almost to the Retreat, but that is impossible since it would then have to extend well beyond the boundary of the Ship.

Standing a short way into the cross corridor, the genius stood looking first one way then the other. I must proceed with due caution and certainty regarding my route, and ... my return route. It would appear that the physical laws I am familiar with due not exist in the same context here. She turned to look down the right corridor again. Upon reflection, I am now positive that the right corridor did not exist when I turned left off the main corridor.

As Selina turned to continue down her chosen passageway, she again stopped to stare at an open doorway. That doorway did not exist a moment ago. Will it close up — cease to be — and trap me if I enter? The Prime saw me leave. If I could be easily injured, he would have stopped me, or at least cautioned me. He did neither. He has said the Ship is intelligent; therefore, either he expects the Ship to keep me from harm, or there is no danger to me, or a very little possibility of my being injured. I shall proceed.

Selina stepped through the doorway and into a room with a tall, domed ceiling. As she stood looking upward, she estimated that the center of the dome would have to be at least forty feet, sloping down to sides of approximately fifteen feet. There were large objects all about the huge room. The walkways between the objects were jumbled, seemingly almost random, some wide, some narrow, some straight, some winding through the ... objects that seemed to be everywhere. Some of the objects extended upwards at least halfway to the center of the dome. As she walked nearer, she realized that she was having difficulty focusing on any of the objects.

Are they some type of machine, or machines? I shall think of them as machines. Some of the machines look as if they have been melted, their surfaces sloped in odd directions. No, melted is incorrect. It is as if I am looking through some type of warped mirror similar to what you might incur in a funhouse such as is portrayed on television.

Selina put a hand out to tentatively touch the nearest object that towered above her. Much to her astonishment, her hand did not touch the object (machine), but instead, seemed to slide to the side, with her brain receiving no signals that she had touched anything. She tried again with no result other than her hand sliding to the side. Frustrated, she put both hands side by side in front of her and tried to push against the machine. Her hands skittered away and she almost fell before she could catch her balance.

She whirled around to look behind her. I thought I heard laughter. There is an odd ... feel about this room, but there is no one here to laugh at me. I refuse to be frightened,  she repeatedly told herself.

She put her face as close to the surface of the machine as she could manage, then tried to put her hand flat against the surface close to her eyes. As far as she could determine, her hand appeared to touch the machine, but she felt nothing and she saw no discernable area between her hand and the surface of the machine. Hmmm. My hand appears to touch the surface, but I feel nothing. If there is an area between my hand and the machine, it is so minuscule that I am unable to detect the gap. Hmmm, a small light shined from the side could conceivably allow me to see the area beneath my hand. I shall bring a flashlight, or a small keychain laser with me the next time I visit the Ship.

Selina tried slapping her hand against the surface, but her hand was turned to the side without a sensation of hitting anything. Is there a forcefield of some type surrounding the machine? When the entrance to the ship is open, there is some type of field to keep out the cold. Kayla mentioned that they fought during a storm, but I saw no sign of wet or muddy uniforms.

What is the purpose of these machines? If they are machines,  Selina mused.

She chose a path between the machines that seemed to lead away from the door, but a few minutes later, she was again standing just inside the door, the nagging desire of her curiosity now almost a physical thing.

How did I return here? I'm certain the path between the machines led away from the door. Without warning, she felt a presence in the room with her. Twenty feet away, a creature emerged from between two of the machines. Selina's focus riveted on the creature. Could this be one of the builders? she wondered. Perhaps a custodian? But my Prime has never mentioned a life-form who resides in the Ship — other than the Ship herself. My Queen has informed me that my Prime directs the Ship. Could this be a being who assists in the operation of the Ship? My Prime has said the Ship is self-aware, but it is certainly possible that she might need physical assistance for repairs, or perhaps the everyday operation of all this machinery — if it is machinery.

The creature has eight legs, and I estimate its height to be almost ten feet. It is reminiscent of an arachnid. Why did I not discover it while I was investigating the machines? She and the creature stared at each other. The creature's eyes are bigger than my hand and they appear faceted. It also appears to be aggressive, malevolent even. She took a step closer, despite a fear that seemed almost to seep deep inside her. The Ship has to be aware the creature is here. My Prime would be displeased if something untoward happened to me, ergo, the Ship will not allow this creature to injure me.

Selina took another step forward. The feeling of ill intent she had been receiving morphed into a feeling of pure terror, but curiosity warred with the terror. Her body wanted to run, but she forced any thought about leaving aside and took another step. Even her intellect barely won out over the terror. This could quite possibly be a hologram designed by the Ship to discourage my inspection of her. Perhaps she has a sense of humor and is just toying with a child expecting to see the child run screaming back to her elders. I will not! She opened her mouth to address the creature just as it hissed and spit a gob of smoking goo at her. She decided to assume that the goo was only a manifestation of the hologram and remain where she was, but she moved a half-step aside, anyway. The gob landed several feet behind her with a "splat" that sounded and looked very real, indeed. She could even smell the vile-looking mess as it lay bubbling and smoking on the deck. She coughed as her lungs burned and her eyes smarted.

Aloud, she said, addressing the Ship, "My Prime allowed me to come in here, so I am certain that he intends that I shall be safe as I explore. If you allow me to be harmed, he will be displeased with you."

The creature picked that moment to leap forward, landing only a few feet from Selina, its stench almost overpowering. She flinched, but stood her ground. Disgusting her, she realized that her knees had a tendency to shake. She could even feel its breath, and looking closely, could see the individual hair fibers on its legs and body. There were long, vicious-looking barbs on the last joints of its legs, the body and upper part of its legs covered with a carpet of something resembling fur. She estimated the flat-faced head to be three times the size of hers. Yet the head looked small in proportion to the body. The mouth had incisors that protruded upward and outside the thick lips. Overall, the fur was a dull green, with shades of black around parts of the face and feet where the fur was thin or nonexistent.

The creature hissed at her, blowing its hot, putrid breath in her face. "Go away. You do not frighten me," she lied, hoping the Ship would not detect her body trembling. "You are a hologram. A very believable creature, but a hologram, nevertheless."

She reached out her hand, anticipating it swipe through the visual projection of a forward leg. Her hand came to a jarring halt as it met muscle and bone. The creature hissed at her, its breath sounding not unlike one of the old steam locomotives dumping its steam. Terror threatened to overwhelm her, but warred with the fascination of discovery. "You are not real," she hissed out, her voice shaking, much to her disgruntlement. "I shall not be intimidated, not withstanding your apparent physical manifestations."

The six-year-old continued to stand her ground as the creature leaned its head down, its mouth opening. Frowning, she doubled up her small fist and hit it on one of its many knees, hurting her fist. She glared into its open maw.

"Go away," she yelled, stamping her foot.

To her amazement, but great satisfaction, it did. One second it was there, and with a pop, it was gone as well as the pile of vile goo it had spit at her.

The terror she had felt was replaced by a mental chuckle that she assumed was coming from the Ship. Head high, shaken, but not admitting it, Selina addressed the ship, "Apparently you have become weary of my explorations. I shall leave for now." Then Selina walked out the door, down the passageway and turned right to head back to where Diana and the others waited for the chamber to complete its work.

-------

As Kayla and Jeff walked into the mess hall, Carter touched Kayla's arm and guided her to a place next to him as the team sat. Jeff sat at the head of the big table, flanked by Lieutenant Richardson on one side and Sergeant Gomez on the other. The table was bare save for place settings. At a nod from Jeff, Lieutenant Richardson stood and each person bowed their head. Kayla had expected him to give thanks for the food and their safe return, but all the men and women, who a short time ago were a killing machine, joined hands, and led by the Lieutenant, said their prayer in perfect unison — as if they were, indeed, one person. Kayla knew the prayer was by rote, that the words weren't spontaneous, but still, it was obvious that everyone meant those words. To Kayla the group prayer was awe-inspiring. She suddenly had chill bumps on her arms.

As soon as the prayer was finished, the cooks and their assistants pushed serving carts over laden with large coffee urns and orange juice dispensers. Kayla realized that the carts were for backup, because the serving staff had also put carafes of coffee and orange juice on the table, huge platters piled high with steaks, and an equal number of platters of scrambled eggs. Simple fare, but she knew there was tradition behind it. Jeff dismissed the serving staff, and the team was alone in the mess hall.

Jeff had cautioned her to eat hardy. They were all alive and well — their appetites should reflect that. Again, there was obviously tradition that required them to have a big appetite.

Kayla had just speared a steak with a serving fork when Ward asked in a voice pitched so everyone at the table could hear, "How many power packs did you run through before you managed to wing one of those mercenaries, Lieutenant Fisher? I thought there for a while I was going to have to stroll back to our stash and bring you back a case."

Grinning, Kayla stopped servicing her plate to look over at him, "'Stroll back to our stash?' How could you have time to do that? Seems like I saw a lot of dirt flying as if you were digging a hole to crawl into. Did you get any bursts off at all?"

It went down hill from there. They didn't cut Kayla any slack, and she gave as good as she got. Suddenly, she was ravenous as the team laughed, kidded, ate and enjoyed themselves, and ... they made a point to include her in their jokes and bantering. Somehow, Kayla felt as if she had just received something ... almost a rite of passage. She just hoped it wasn't because she was Jeff's wife. But right now, it didn't feel as if it were. She vowed she would be good enough one day to be part of this — a real part.

Finally, the meal over and the table cleared, they sat back to drink more coffee or juice as the real debriefing began, the mood becoming serious. Kayla listened intently, realizing that only here would she truly understand what had gone on in the battle. How could they know so much about what everyone was doing during the fight? she wondered as she listened to the team dissect the battle. Humbled yet again, she listened and tried to learn.

Until someone mentioned it, Kayla hadn't realized that the strobe the team had sent up to confuse the enemy's night vision gear had a camera in it that she could have accessed with her helmet. And ... they had two stealth cameras up as well. She knew the team had the capabilities but she had been too fixated on the fight and the death whizzing just above her head to use those capabilities.

Kayla waited for a pause. "Uh, I have a question." When Lieutenant Richardson told her to go on, she cleared her throat, afraid she was going to make a fool of herself. "Why aren't our pulse rifles tied in with our helmet AIs? Since it's so hard to accurately point an invisible weapon, couldn't our helmet at least show us where our weapon is generally pointed?"

Jeff spoke up, "We've tried that. In theory, it sounded good, but it never seemed to work out as well in battle. If the weapon was against the trooper's shoulder and the sights in front of his eyes, the computer had no problem superimposing a set of crosshairs on our visors that closely represented where the pulse would hit, but if it took that, you might as well use the sights on the rifle. But point shooting with the weapon moving about to track the enemy or fired from the belt, so to speak, the trooper shot much better on his or her own."

"But can we still outshoot the computer now that our weapons are invisible? We have our friend/foe tags so the helmets can keep up with everyone, why can't we put something like that on our rifles so our helmet AIs can compute where the weapon is pointing?" Kayla went on, "For that matter, why can't our helmet AIs take the same sensor data our camo suits use to bend light around our body outlines to project images onto our visors of our own body outlines so we know where our feet and hands are? Plus that same data could be added to the friend/foe tags so we could perceive friendly body outlines and better minimize the possibility of friendly fire incidents. This would be especially useful during close range engagements."

There was absolute silence for a good ten seconds. "Out of the mouths of babes," Jeff quietly muttered to himself, but Lieutenant Richardson and Sergeant Gomez heard him.

Gomez cleared his throat. "With a couple of people, and moderate range, the sighting lasers work fine, particularly in the dark. But with the whole team using them at the same time, sometimes you can't tell whose red dot you're looking at. As you know, with the hard rain and hail, the lasers were frequently visible in the water-laden air last night, which gave our positions away. I think most of us tried using the targeting lasers, and also tried point shooting. Both had negative aspects. I think we should take Lieutenant Fisher's idea and refit our rifles with the targeting equipment to allow us to use the helmet AI to sight for us, or at least put up a set of crosshairs where the AI thinks our weapon is pointing. If you remember, we tried putting a computer on the rifle to have it transmit a set of crosshairs to our faceplates via our helmet computer. That worked great for a little while, but ... we had major problems with computer survivability while mounted on the rifle.

"Computers don't take well to being slammed around, drenched in water or other liquids, and subjected to the heat of the pulse rifle, not to even mention what close association to that pulse does to a computer chip. Just when we needed it the most, the computer tended to go belly up. I suggest we again try having the helmet AI give us a set of crosshairs to assist with pointing the rifle while our camouflage is activated. Even though our point shooting won't be perfect, we can at least get a ballpark idea of where our weapon is pointing. The techs should be able to adapt our friend or foe transmitters to fit on the rifles. That would give the helmet AI a better chance to determine where the rifle is pointed.

"And you are right, Ma'am. It should also be possible to route the suit sensor data to the helmet AI to project our body images onto our visors, and share that data with each other via the friend/foe tags."

"I agree," Richardson said, then looked to Jeff.

"Do it," Jeff said, simply.

-------

The sun was a big orange ball hanging just over the mountain as Security dropped Kayla and Jeff at the back entrance to the Retreat. As they went inside, Kayla yawned for the third time in as many minutes. "This all seems like a dream," she said as she put her arm around her husband's waist.

Jeff tucked her under an arm and chuckled, their steps matching as they walked down the hall. "Want to go change clothes before we see our mates?"

"Yeah. I want out of this armor and this uniform. I want a shower. I know the Ship cleaned my uniform when I came through the hatch, or whatever you call it, but I want out of this bra, and I want a clean pair of panties. And no, I didn't do anything in them," she laughed. "I was scared, but not that scared."

Jeff chuckled and hugged her tight. "I could stand a shower myself."

When they entered their suite, Kayla tossed her helmet on the bed, dropped her boots and socks by the foot, her uniform pants a few feet away, her top and bra near the bathroom door, and her panties just inside the bathroom. "Kayla," she told the shower a second before she stepped under the nozzles.

Jeff had scooped up her clothes as he followed her. After putting their helmets in the closet, depositing the clothing in a hamper and setting her boots next to it, he hesitated, then took her panties back out. Putting the damp gusset to his nose, he inhaled her scent. Embarrassed and not knowing quite why, he returned them to the hamper, then stripped himself. You did well, Wife,  he thought as he walked into the shower area. I'm proud of you. And ... you did us proud at the debriefing, also. He stood for a moment watching the sleepy woman as she bent forward to rinse the shampoo from her hair. Those are really nice titties jiggling there, not to even mention that fine ass, but I think that big steak on top of a pretty eventful night just about put you away. Maybe we should wait a while on our lovemaking.

Slinging her wet hair back over her shoulder, she turned to him as he reached for the soap. "I wanted you so bad while we were standing in those nurses' back yard talking. If it had not been for the agents, I would have pulled my pants down and bent over for you right there, rain and all. I can't remember being any more turned on in my life. And before you answer, I know what it was, but knowing doesn't change a thing. I had to fight to keep from hanging all over you when we went inside the house to talk to those people."

She hugged him as he soaped a sponge and reached around her to scrub her back. "We always have time to make love," he whispered, his hands moving to her sides just beneath her breasts.

Kayla reached to take his hands before they found her breasts. "No, my Husband. I would probably go to sleep after my first orgasm and leave you hanging." Sighing, "I'm going to have to take a nap before I talk to my sisters. I'm just too sleepy to stay up. I'm sorry..."

"Don't be," he said, rubbing her shoulders as she sank against him. He applied conditioner, rinsed it from her hair, and dried her sexy body with the first towel. Getting a fresh towel, he towel-dried her hair as best he could. In the vanity area, he ran a comb gently through her tresses to get the tangles out. Picking her up, he took her to the bed and tucked her in, her hair still damp. He touched his lips to hers, only to chuckle as he heard a small snore. She was out.



-------

Chapter 136

Dressed in jeans, polo shirt and sneakers, Jeff left the bedroom and his sleeping wife. He stopped by the living room to check in with his other wives, the other Alphas and their mates. Giving them a sketchy summary of what had happened, he promised to go into detail later. As he started to leave, Fred walked to the living room door with him before touching his shoulder. "We need to ask you something."

"Sure," Jeff replied. "Uh, again, I apologize for not eating breakfast with you folks."

"Nonsense," Fred responded. Then after a moment, "Uh, Jeff would you and Diana marry us, all of us to each other like you and your wives are?"

"Sure, I would be glad to, and I know Diana will feel the same way. So when do you want this to happen?"

"As soon as the women can get their dresses, I guess," Fred said, looking to Carla for verification.

"Maybe a week," she responded. "Diana has already given me the dress maker's number. We need to go over to Denver, choose our dresses and be measured. Di says the owner and her crew are very quick."

"They are, and as many wedding dresses as we have bought, I'll bet a call from Diana would make things flow smoothly when you go in to be fitted."

"I'll give Di a call later today," Carla said.

Jeff put his hand on Fred's shoulder. "I meant for us to have some time together. This thing last night was ... unexpected, to put it mildly. Now, I have to spend time with Art, Sandra and Bobby getting them convinced to accept the block and also bringing them up to date with what's going on around here. Well to some extent, anyway. I..."

"Don't sweat it, Jeff. We've known each other a long time. Hell, after they have been here awhile, bring them down to the farm. By what you've told us, none of the bad guys could ever figure out where Art is, anyway. We'll catch a pretty day and take them horseback riding. The horses don't mind the cold, and Carla and Jessica ride regardless of the weather, plus it's a hell of a lot warmer in the valley than it is up here."

"Thanks for understanding, Fred. I'll tell them you invited them. Uh, you and I need to get together and do some shooting. It's been too long."

"We'll do that, but we need to go check on the horses," Fred said, offering his hand to his friend.

Jeff shook Fred's hand and hugged the women. As Fred and his group left, Caitlin, dressed in her uniform, met Jeff in the hall.

"Sorry I ran you late for work," the Prime apologized.

Caitlin kissed him and hugged herself tightly to him. "I wasn't going anywhere until I knew what had happened, and you have to go into detail with us tonight. But the two of you are back safe. That's all that really matters. Oh, and Jeff, I still need to sit down with you and Sheriff Tate sometime in the next few days. I think I'm getting close to having enough information to get things started with the hospital, but I want to go over what I have with both of you. We've discussed some of it, but I think I have a clearer understanding of what's been happening."

"You're beginning to worry me with this. Be discreet, Wife. People will do anything for money. If these people are getting kickbacks as you think, you could very well be in danger if they suspect you might find out. Be careful."

"I will be," she assured her husband. "And, I've gotta run," she finished, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

Jeff swatted her on the ass as she turned to leave. She laughed and hurried on.

A couple of minutes later, he stopped to talk briefly with the General, knowing that Whitworth had allowed him time to wind down with his team before learning the details of the rescue. Shortly, the Prime exited through the inside garage, and jogged toward the invisible ship.

As he entered the Ship, Diana got up to hug him, the nurses blushing as they sat smiling at him. "I was able to discuss Alphas with them, and other things, but I couldn't talk about the ship or Little One, or anything along those lines," his Queen whispered into his ear, apparently irritated at the block, "so we mainly talked about you," she finished with a grin, and in a normal voice.

Oh, shit. No wonder they're blushing. I hope she didn't lay it on too thick. Then aloud, "Uh, ladies, the Ship tells me that she is finished with your mate's healing."

Sandra looked at her sister then back at Jeff. "Diana said he would be completely healed when he comes out of that thing."

"He'll be one hundred percent. Maybe even a little better than that," Jeff chuckled.

"That's wonderful," they both said.

"Uh, then I guess he won't need nurses anymore," Bobby started, with Sandra nodding her agreement of the situation. "I guess we need to start looking for jobs in the area, huh?"

"Ladies, let's talk about jobs a little later; there's plenty of time. My Queen says she has discussed Alphas with you. Whether the FBI continues to keep you on as Art's nurses or not has little to do with your future. Since he is an Alpha and you two are his chosen mates, you may all live with us as long as you wish. To understate, we have plenty of room. The time for worrying is over. You're home. Now, let's get Art out of the chamber and feed him. He's going to be ravenous."

The chamber's shield disappeared and the mist gradually cleared. Art blinked and slowly sat up. An odd look passed over his face as he extended his left arm, moving it around, obviously testing the shoulder. Jeff stepped forward to offer him a hand up, but he needn't have bothered, for both nurses again beat him to it. Hanes stood with a look of incredulity on his face. "It doesn't hurt," he said, his voice quiet, then louder, "I don't hurt, anywhere."

He pulled his pajama shirt up a little and found only a faint pucker where the bullet had gone through him when it almost destroyed one of his kidneys.

"She left you that scar for bragging rights," Jeff chuckled as the nurses hugged Art, telling him how glad they were that he was healed.

Diana handed Art a bundle of folded clothes with a pair of shoes sitting on top. "These belong to Dave. You'll meet him shortly. I think you're close to his size. Hopefully, the clothing and shoes will fit well enough for the time being. The underclothes are all new. We'll get your sizes and have you a wardrobe delivered soon. Oh yeah, Dave said he had a pair of flip flops you could wear around the Retreat if the shoes don't fit."

Art looked at the shoes for a second. "They're a half size too big for me, but they'll fit fine for now. Thanks. Uh, the FBI has been holding my pay until I came out of undercover, so I'll have money shortly. I'll pay you back then. I appreciate all you people have done for me, Colonel, uh..."

"Matthews. But just call me Jeff. And you owe us nothing." Before Art could say anything more, Jeff pointed down the corridor. "First doorway on the left will do for you to change in. It's a bit brisk outside — a couple of degrees above zero — but one of the Escalades is right by the end of the ramp. As soon as you're dressed we'll go to the kitchen and feed you. Healing leaves you wanting to eat everything in sight. I know I certainly felt that way. We have some things to discuss with the three of you after you've eaten."

Tell Selina she has explored enough for now,  Jeff mentally instructed the Ship.

A moment later, Selina, a smug look on her face, came walking briskly down the corridor.

When she reached the group, Jeff bent down so his mouth was close to her ear as he whispered, "Ask permission from me and from the Ship next time before you go exploring."

"Yes, my Prime," the little genius said, her eyes big and her face suddenly red.

For the first time, Jeff could feel the Ship chuckling as she sent mental images of Selina facing down the spider creature.

THE NURSES' HOME

Shortly after daylight, the agents made one more search of the battle area looking for evidence of the firefight. Another front had moved in, but the heavy-laden clouds produced only two inches of rain. There was little wind from these clouds to aggravate cleanup crews as they cut and moved felled trees from the streets and roads.

Whatley came in the back way. When he stepped out of his vehicle wearing full rain gear, there was muted grumbling from two of the soaked techs. Grigsby, just as wet himself, chuckled and strolled over to Whatley.

"I'm damn glad to see you alive," the older man said.

"And, I'm damn glad to be alive," Grigsby said as he wiped water out of his eyes. "How in the hell did you dig up those people — whoever they are?"

"I have a lot of things I need to tell you. After you get some rest, we'll get started on it."

"So what's in the sack?" Grigsby said as he nodded to the plastic grocery sack that Whatley had in his hand. It looked empty except for a small bulge in the very bottom.

"I stopped by our range and picked up five fired blank M4 casings."

"Oh, I like that," Grigsby said. "If there was a training exercise out here, there should have been a lot of blanks fired. With all that gunfire last night, anyone trying to investigate would expect to find a few fired casings that had been missed on cleanup. Finding blanks would also reinforce the rumor of a harmless exercise."

Whatley chuckled again. "Yep, whoever they were, they missed five blank casings when they cleaned up. I would suggest putting a couple of them in a fairly obvious place, then put the others where they're harder to find — but not impossible. Physical 'evidence' to go with our misinformation. I doubt if there will be many tracks that survive this rain, either vehicle or foot tracks, but if so, they will only tend to 'prove' our story."

Grigsby took the small sack and called over one of the agents. After giving the other agent instructions, the two supervisors turned back toward the house. Stepping onto the back porch out of the rain, they stood looking out as the water poured off the roof.

"They must have gotten a local cell tower working, because Courtney called again a few minutes ago. She's taking the day off from work. I'm supposed to meet her for breakfast when we're through here."

"Then what the fuck are you standing here for?"

Grigsby let out a weak chuckle. "We're just finishing up our last search sweep. All we have to do is lock the house up and leave. I need to get someone out here to fix one of the bedroom windows where a flying limb broke out the glass. We taped a trash bag across it to keep most of the rain out, but it needs to be fixed ASAP."

"I'll get someone to take care of it, and the downed trees. I can finish up here. Get!"

"You sure? You don't have to be out here."

"Positive. Now get going."

"Thanks. Thanks for everything. I don't know how you came up with those people ... those troopers, but we would have been dead without them. You know that. And thanks for looking up Courtney, and ... talking to her for me."

"So, she gave you her number?"

"Not the first time she called, but she gave it to me a few minutes ago. I'm to call her back after I go by my place and change clothes. We're to eat somewhere and talk. She said she had been seeing a therapist. Maybe we can work something out."

"I think she'll calm down after you're promoted..."

"You keep talking about a promotion. There are people ahead of me. There's no way..."

"You'll receive the notice today. By this afternoon, latest, your title will be SAC. It's a done deal, Matt. So let me be the first to congratulate you," Whatley said, putting out his hand.

As they shook, "Where?" Grigsby asked.

"Denver. But you will train with the current SAC before he turns the office over to you. Probably a month or more. I doubt if it will be longer than that. He's anxious to start his retirement, and I can't say that I blame him. So you can tell Courtney that you will be moving very shortly. I strongly suspect you're going to have a very excited wife later this morning."

-------

A little later at his home, Matt Grigsby quickly showered and shaved. Dressed, he pulled out his personal cell phone and dialed Courtney's number.

"Hey, Matt," she answered.

"I'm ready," Grigsby stumbled out. "Where should..."

"You know where, Matt. Meet you there in thirty minutes."

Grigsby opened his mouth to say something, but she had hung up. She wants to meet at our place? I never expected that. I haven't been in there since she dumped me. Hey, wanting to eat there is bound to be significant — then again, maybe she chose that place because we both know it, and it's convenient. Should I get there first and be waiting at our table? Oh, shit. I'm as nervous as a teenager on his first date. And ... this isn't a date. She just wants to talk.

She said she was going to take the day off. It isn't late; she could make it to work on time. An hour at the restaurant and she still wouldn't be very late if she went on to work. Why did she take the day off? Is there something else going on? Whatley said she told him there wasn't another man. Is she going to tell me there is? Fuck! This is driving me crazy.

Standing, he looked around his living room. The room was neat; nothing was out of place. He always made his bed every morning before work. He ate out a lot, and when he did nuke a frozen meal and eat at home, he cleaned up afterward. He was naturally a neat person, so he didn't leave dirty clothes strewn about. He had vacuumed a couple of days ago, and hadn't been home much since then.

We shared housework — well mostly. I spent so many hours at work that she wound up with most of it, I guess. Still ... I picked up behind myself and didn't leave a mess. Most of my clothes went to the cleaners. I always made sure she enjoyed herself in bed. We made love a lot and she had tons of orgasms. I did everything a husband should do, except ... I was gone a lot. Well, maybe more than a lot. But that's not what she said made her leave. I know her mother loved her father — really loved him — and his death was more than her mom could stand. Courtney became fixated on my getting killed just like her dad had. Shit! Maybe the therapist can help her. Then again, I damn near died last night. I guess she has a point. Maybe my not telling her anything about my job made it worse, though. I guess I could have discussed some things with her.

Grigsby's agency phone rang. "Grigsby," he answered, recognizing the number as Whatley's.

"Choose a secure place; sit your wife down and swear her to secrecy, then tell her about last night."

Shit. Talk about timing. "I've just been thinking along those lines."

"Sometimes we have to bend the rules a little. Use your judgment, but when I talked to her I got the impression that not knowing was one of the things that had upset her, and contributed to the worry of someone knocking on her door to tell her you had been killed."

"Thanks, I'll..."

"I'm at the office and I have the memo in hand. Your promotion is effective immediately. Your official title is now SAC, and your transfer orders came with the memo. You have the option of taking two weeks of your vacation time before you start in Denver. You're going to have to take some vacation before the end of the year, anyway. Take it or lose it, that is. No telling how many hours you've worked in the last three days, and I know you're way behind on sleep. Why don't we meet in my office about two tomorrow afternoon? No, let me reword that. I don't want to see you until two tomorrow afternoon. Tell Courtney I said hi."

The phone went dead. Matt stared at it for a moment before closing it. SAC! How in the hell could that have happened? I assumed some ass kisser would get the next opening. I have to tell Courtney. She'll never believe...  Then it hit him. There had been so many times over the last weeks when he had wanted to share something with her, or almost turned around to tell her something, but she hadn't been there anymore.

This time I can tell her. She's going to be at our restaurant in ... twenty-five minutes,  he thought, looking at his watch. I'm going to be there when she walks in, and I'm going to be sitting at our table unless there is someone else there. A smile touched his face. Fuck it. I'm going to be at that table even if I have to bribe some family to get them to move.

He was out the door and jogging toward his vehicle before the thought had time to settle.

-------

As SAC Matt Grigsby walked into the small restaurant, the sole waitress greeted him. "Well now. Hello there Mr. Grigsby. Until Mrs. Grigsby showed up, we thought the two of you had moved away or something. She's already at your table," the heavyset woman said as she ushered Matt through the dining area toward a table near a side window.

Grigsby had managed to get out a, "Good morning, Mabel," to the waitress as she rattled on, but as they walked around one of the partitions, he was suddenly able to see his wife sitting at the small table they used to use. She has lost weight, but she's obviously spent time getting ready this morning. Her makeup and hair are perfect, and that's a skirt and blouse that I've always liked. Doesn't look like she's wearing a bra. Can't tell for sure. Oh, hell. Don't get an erection, you idiot. Damn, it's been a long time since I've been inside her. I've worked so many hours lately, I can't even remember when I jerked off the last time. Crap, my dick is swelling. I'm going to make a fool of myself if I don't sit down and hide this thing before it pushes out my pants.

"Hey, Matt."

"Hey, Court," he managed to get out as he slid into the seat across from her, wanting to take her hand, but afraid to. He had seen her eyes focus on his groin for the barest instant. She could always tell when I wanted her. Well, then again, that shouldn't have been too difficult, since I wanted her all the time. Why does she affect me so profoundly? And I used to think that I affected her, as well. How could she leave me? Act natural, you idiot. Don't spoil it,  he admonished himself.

"You're looking well," he managed to say in a reasonable voice.

"Oh?" she said with a bit of sarcasm. "You mean you like the gaunt, bags under the eyes, and the generally looking-like-death look?"

"I..."

"Matt, damn you. I can't live with you and I can't live without you."

Grigsby opened his mouth to say something ... anything, but Mabel brought their coffee just then, which gave him a chance to regroup.

"The usual?" the waitress asked.

"Yes, Mabel, for both of us," Courtney replied, smiling up at her.

At Matt's nod, "Be back in a jiffy," she said as she turned to go place their orders with the cook.

Courtney had always liked extra cream in her coffee. Without being asked, Mabel had left a handful of the small containers on the table. Courtney opened three of them and dumped their contents into her coffee, then added a pack of sweetener. After stirring, she raised the cup to her lips, hesitating as she saw that Matt's eyes were focused on her mouth. She took a sip of the coffee as he forced his gaze back to her eyes, but he knew she had caught him.

"I have never understood why you like to watch me drink coffee," she said, barely able to keep the teasing out of her voice.

"You're beautiful, Court. You know that. I've always been attracted to your mouth, especially when you put a bottle drink to your lips, or..."

"Drink coffee," she added, her face breaking into a smile despite herself.

"Or drink coffee," Matt admitted, "or..." Shut your mouth, you idiot,  he said to himself. She knows you think she's at her sexiest when you can watch her with your dick in her mouth. You don't have to remind her.

"I've missed doing that to you," she said, as if she were reading his mind.

Missed doing that to me? Does that mean she has been doing it to someone else? He could feel his stomach beginning to rebel as he thought about her sucking another man.

"Matt. Matt," Courtney said, reading his expression. Reaching across the small table, she put her hand on his, "I haven't been with anyone else."

Grigsby quietly sighed. She could always read my mind. Well, guess what I was thinking, anyway. I could never keep my face expressionless with her. I don't have that problem with anyone else. Why with her? "Thank you, Court. You don't know how much that means to me to hear you say that," he managed. There was an embarrassing silence between them, before, "Uh, I have some good news. Well, it feels like good news to me, anyway." Why have you suddenly become a bumbling idiot? he admonished himself again. "My orders to report to the Denver office came through."

"So, you'll be moving to Denver?" Courtney said, but her voice was light, teasing. "But why is that?" She took another sip of her coffee to hide the grin that wanted to take over her face.

"Uh, I've been promoted."

"And just what would that promotion be?" she teased.

Whatley called her and told her. I would just about bet on it. He set this up.

"My promotion to SAC came through a little while ago." Then, much to his amazement and consternation, he blurted, "Go with me, please, Court. I'll be spending a lot of my time in an office administrating," he said, emphasizing the last word. But they both knew he would seize any opportunity to get into the field as much as he possibly could. "I won't be in any danger. There will be a lot of hours in the beginning, of course, but I promise I'll spend time with you. I'll ... Dammit, Court, I love you. I can't live without you." Shut the fuck up, idiot,  he admonished himself. You've blown it. Why didn't you stick to the plan? You have two weeks of vacation. You could ask her for a date, but nooo, you had to blurt out... 

"I love you, too, Matthew Grigsby. I've tried to live without you. But I'll look like one of those skinny runway models if this keeps up. I fixed myself a nice meal last night, then I thought about sleeping in that bed alone and I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up my supper. I've lost weight until I look like a fence rail, and you've gained."

"That came from stuffing my face with hamburgers instead of eating a healthy meal with my wife. Also, I haven't run since you left. I just haven't felt like it."

"Me, either ... Matt, do you really want me back? I swear to you I haven't been with anyone. I'm going to a therapist, and I'm almost sure she's getting ready to tell me to go back to my husband. I don't need to have someone tell me that. I'm sick without you. I've cried more in the last months than I have in my whole life. But, dammit, I still haven't managed to quit worrying about you, whether I'm with you or not. I tried to tell myself that I was over you, but that's bullshit..."

"Court, I have some things to tell you, but not here where we can be overheard. Whatley gave me permission to talk about what happened last night, after you swear you will never mention it to anyone — ever. He says he tells his wife some things. I went too far in the other direction. Maybe I was too full of myself. I guess I just didn't understand that your imagination could be worse than what was actually happening. I can't tell you everything, but there are things I can share — should have shared. I just didn't realize..."

Their breakfast arrived, momentarily bringing their conversation to a halt.

"Thank you, Mabel. This looks lovely," Courtney said as the waitress put Courtney's meal down in front of her, then Matt's. When the waitress smiled and left, "I haven't eaten a Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream since..."

"I just couldn't come in here," Grigsby said as he poured maple syrup on his plain Belgian waffle, and cut off a big forkful.

Courtney took her first bite and let out a contented, "Hmmmm," as the superb taste flooded her taste buds, "Almost as good as your sperm," she said, just to watch his face turn red.

Grigsby saw the sparkle in her eyes — a sparkle he had missed so much. His eyes drifted back to her mouth as she speared a strawberry with her fork and brought it to her lips. He knew she was posing for him as she slowly pushed the piece of fruit between her lips, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away.

"Eat your waffle, Matt. You look beat. Whatley said you were up all night."

So he did call her. "Yeah. I had ... some things to do, but it's over now."

Courtney took a sip of her orange juice, her expression suddenly unreadable. "He said you have an interesting tale to tell me about last night."

Matt had just taken his last forkful of waffle, but he stopped before putting it in his mouth. Despite himself, he let out a slight sigh, "Court, I finally get permission to talk to you about something of consequence we were involved in, and you won't even believe me. Hell, I'm not sure I even believe it myself."

"Ohhh," sounds really interesting. "Now why don't we go home and you can tell me all about it?" Suddenly, she wondered if she had acted too serene, too sure, had assumed too much. Her remark hadn't sounded like what she was feeling inside. Her voice almost broke as, "That is ... if you want me to come home. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't," she blurted, her hand holding the fork noticeably trembling as she wondered if she had messed up. I wouldn't blame him if he hated me after I walked out on him the way I did. Then she saw his eyes. "Oh, Matt, I've missed you."

He tossed a good tip on the table and grabbed the breakfast bill as her eyes overflowed with tears. Taking her hand, he gently helped her to her feet, "Let's go home, Baby."

THE RETREAT

Art, Bobby, Sandra and Jeff's wives had stopped just inside the retreat, near the inside garage. Selina had gone up to the third floor to look out from a higher angle to see if the ship were visible from there. Diana took Bobby and Sandra aside for a moment. "We talked about Art being an Alpha. I don't want to embarrass you, but I need to ask you something."

The nurses looked at each other, then turned back to Diana. "Sure," they both said.

"Do I put you three in a double suite, or a single with a king size bed?"

To say that the nurses blushed would be an understatement. "Wait," Diana hastened to say. "I guess I flubbed that. I'm so accustomed to being around Alphas and their women that I just blundered on. All the Alphas here have more than one mate. It's obvious that you both care for him, but I wasn't sure just where you are in your relationship."

"We've told everyone that we're his women," Bobby said, "but we haven't, uh, slept with him yet. I mean, he's just out of the hospital."

"We've been ... intimate with him. Well, a little," Sandra added.

"We want to be with him, and he said we could be," Bobby continued.

Diana reached out and hugged Bobby, then Sandra. "We need to talk. I have so much to tell you that will help you to understand things. This way," the Queen said as she turned to the others. The parade of women carrying the nurses' possessions proceeded down the hall, Art following behind carrying two stuffed travel bags. Diana ushered Bobby and Sandra into a suite, then on through the sitting room to the bedroom.

Everyone put their burdens down as the Queen turned to the three. "We'll give you a few minutes to look around your suite. This will be where you live. This suite and the entire Retreat will be your new home. Take a few minutes to check out your suite." Then to Art, "One of us will be back in fifteen minutes or so to take you to the kitchen for breakfast."

Almost in shock, Art, Bobby and Sandra thanked Diana. As soon as everyone was gone, the three looked at each other. "Can you believe this place?" Bobby said.

"I've never been anywhere like this," Sandra said as she walked over to the window and pulled the heavy drapes aside to look out. "Look at the snow. A few minutes ago we were in Georgia in heavy rain. Then that ... thing hurled us out here ... uh, up here, I guess the term is. It's so white, and look at those mountains in the distance."

"Who gives a crap about the scenery right now?" Bobby said, grabbing Art's neck to pull his face down to hers as she locked her mouth to his. When she released him, Sandra took her place.

"You're healed," Bobby said as her nipples did their best to push through her bra when she ran her hand over Art's back.

"Ladies," Art said, his voice deep with passion. "We have to stop this. They're going to be back in a few minutes to take us to breakfast, and I've got to get rid of..."

Both nurses giggled as they focused on Art's groin. "Oh, that looks nice," Sandra said.



-------

Chapter 137


Bobby put her hands on her face and took a breath trying to stifle a giggle. "We're acting like whores," she said, while desperately trying not to reach for Art's cock.

Sandra hissed in a breath. "Art, I don't know what's happened to us. Honest, we don't act like this. We've each had one guy — once, and that was just to get rid of our cherries. But it's like we've been given an aphrodisiac. I want you so bad that it's hard to breathe," she finished, not knowing that Art was projecting pheromones; neither did he.

Art put his arms around both of them. "I know, my Loves. It's the same way for me. But maybe it's just because I'm well now, or something. I swear I have never felt this good in my life. How could that ... chamber heal me, and how could it do it so quickly? Who the hell are these people? I feel like I'm walking around in a dream. A little while ago I could barely hobble, and I absolutely knew none of us would be alive come morning. Now I'm healed and standing in this...  this suite that I could never afford in a million years. Look at this room — the furniture — the bed, the carpet, hell, the drapes. I'll bet they cost more than I make in a month." He walked over and pulled the walk-in closet door open and motioned, "Look at the size of this thing. The bedroom I had while I lived with those slavers wasn't much bigger than this closet."

"She, uh, Diana, said we're to consider this whole — hotel — or whatever it is, our home. So did the Colonel. You did say he was a Colonel didn't you?" Bobby asked, rattled from her intense desire to pull Art over to the bed, even though she knew that one of the Matthews would soon come back for them.

"Yeah, he's a Colonel, but I have no idea what ... organization he's with. You can bet it's not army. I suspect black ops of some type. But his people damn sure hung on his every word. From all the mud on his uniform when we were in Georgia, you can bet he wasn't standing back and watching the battle, and neither was that female Lieutenant with him."

"Uh, about Diana. One of the others called her their Queen. What do they mean by that? They deferred to her like those other men and women did to Colonel Matthews," Sandra added, her eyes straying yet again to Art's groin.

"Maybe she's the boss bitch," Art tried to joke.

"She was so sweet to us while we were waiting for you to get out of that ... chamber," Bobby said, defending her.

"I didn't mean to belittle her. I was just kidding..."

"She's beautiful," Bobby injected.

"They all are," Sandra expanded.

Hanes, a little worried at how this conversation was going, offered, "Now ladies, no need getting jealous," he said, trying to force his thoughts away from sex. "I have the most beautiful women in the world standing right here with me."

The nurses hugged him, both of them unconsciously rubbing their breasts against him. "We saw your eyes tracking those bouncing titties," Sandra said, trying to make her voice stern, even as she realized that she had watched them, too. She locked eyes with her sister for a moment, remembering some of the things they had done. We have Art now, but I love my sister, too. We need some time alone with him. Why am I so hot? It's all I can do to stop myself from unbuckling his pants right now. Is it because we almost died last night?

"They should return for us soon," Art said, trying to discreetly adjust his cock in the jeans he had been given to wear. "Why don't we go back to the other room to wait for them?"

None of them wanted to leave the bedroom, but they knew someone would be returning for them shortly. When they walked back into the sitting room, they heard a rap on the door a second before it opened. A pretty young girl/woman stepped inside. For a second they all thought she was Diana.

Arlene, suspecting what had happened, said, "No, I'm Arlene, her daughter."

"But I thought..." Sandra started, almost certain Arlene had been introduced as one of the Colonel's wives, but both nurses had been lost in all the introductions, more so because they had been worried about their mate and were paying little attention to anything else.

Might as well get it out of the way up front,  Arlene thought. "I'm his daughter and ... his wife," she said aloud. "And if that's not enough, Susan, one of the others you were introduced to, is my grandmother, and ... another of his wives."

Art grinned, which reaped him a stern look from Sandra. Bobby frowned, then spoke up. "But there's something wrong. There's no way Diana is old enough to be your mother. She can't be more than twenty, and I remember Susan, since she looks so much like you. I thought all three of you were sisters. Uh, forgive me, but how could Susan possibly be your grandmother. She's just too young to be..."

Arlene stepped over to them. "Please, just withhold judgment until we can explain things. Right now, we need to get you fed, Art. I know you're ravenous, right?" she said, looking at the young Alpha.

"That's an understatement. I have never been this hungry in my life."

"Come on then," she said, grabbing Sandra's hand. "Let's go."

As they stepped out in the hallway, Arlene continued, "Mom sent me to guide you. Once you figure out the logic of this place, it's easy to find things, but your first foray can be a little daunting. Oh, yeah, there's a map in the drawer of the coffee table in your suite. It will help you get used to the Retreat. You should have been here when Mom, Dad and I first got here. When we read about the bears in the Retreat's booklet..." Arlene said just to tease.

"Bears?" both nurses said in unison. Hanes frowned and stared at her.

"Yeah, there aren't many of them, but you should never go outside alone until you're accustomed to things, and particularly without consulting the computer first."

"Computer?" Art questioned.

"Yeah. Several of us are working on an AI program. It's a long way from being self-aware, but it's getting pretty smart. We'll introduce you to it so it will respond to you. We have both our fledgling AI, and Security now that we didn't have when we first moved in, so there is little chance of a bear getting close without someone letting us know. Early on, Dad had a dance with a grizzly on one of his morning runs and almost died from the mauling, but he shot the bear dead with his .45. I guess we tend to be a little paranoid because of that attack."

Art looked intently at her. "He shot a grizzly dead with a .45? How many times did he shoot it?"

"Once," Arlene said, proudly, "right through the eye."

"I've never heard of anyone killing a grizzly with a .45. Let along with just one round," Art replied, vowing to himself to talk the Colonel into telling about the fight. "Do you suppose you could get him..."

Arlene took pity on him. "I'll get Dad to tell you about it," she said, not realizing that Jeff would stress how Arlene and Diana had worked as a team to save his life.

"That's the living room, there," Arlene said as they passed by a couple of minutes later, but Art stopped long enough to stick his head in the door.

"This is a living room?" he said, incredulously. "You could put a full basketball court in here, and have room for the fans as well."

Arlene stopped to smile at him. "We've had some pretty nice weddings in there recently. The kitchen is just down here," she said, motioning on down the hall, as she turned to lead them, but the nurses looked at each other, each practically reading the other's mind and focusing on one word — weddings.

"We'll take you for a tour shortly — if you feel like it, that is. Dad says you were up all last night, so you probably want to take a nap before we show you around, but remember, like Mom said, this is your home now," she finished as she pushed the kitchen door open and stood holding it for them.

"Oh, my goodness," both nurses said as they stopped just inside the kitchen door to stare.

"Kinda grabs you at first, doesn't it?" Arlene said. "It's designed to feed a hundred people, and there are facilities for that many in the building, plus a game room that's out of this world, a theater, oh, lots of things that we'll show you later. There are dining rooms, of course, but we like to eat in here if we can."

"Right this way," Diana said as she walked over to touch Art's arm and lead them to the table. Then to the nurses, "The bar has fruit in case you still want something else to eat. Sit here," she said, motioning to chairs.

When Art and the nurses were seated, Laura put down a platter with a steak, a big mound of scrambled eggs, and a pile of hash browns, while Jennie brought a platter of biscuits fresh out of the oven. Melissa poured a large glass of orange juice, sitting the pitcher close by. Nicki poured a cup of coffee and put a carafe within easy reach and cups for the nurses in case they wanted coffee. Nat put out plates for Bobby and Sandra while Whitney brought a fruit tray so the nurses wouldn't have to go to the bar if they wanted anything.

Diana shoved condiments near. "Eat. And we know that you must be ravenous, Art. Another steak will be ready when you finish that one. There are plenty of hash browns left, and we'll scramble more eggs when you want them."

"I can't eat all this," Art got out, wondering if he were telling the truth as his appetite suddenly ramped up even more at the smell of the food and coffee.

Jeff walked in, now dressed casually. Art started to stand, but Jeff put a hand on his shoulder. "Eat. I've been healed before, and with the enhancement at the same time, you'll want to eat anything that isn't nailed down. You will probably need several more meals — between meals — before the day is out. Your body will eventually catch up, but with your enhancement, from now on, expect to eat a lot more than you've been accustomed to. All perfectly normal, and incidentally, now that you've been enhanced, you probably won't gain weight unless it's muscle. Oh, and expect to grow a couple of inches, too."

Art thought about the cuff he had turned up on the borrowed jeans. I'm supposed to grow? How much of this does he expect me to believe? But then again, I don't have the slightest bit of pain — anywhere. My body is healed completely. So far, my biggest problem has been keeping my dick from embarrassing me. "Enhanced?" Art got out as Jeff motioned for him to eat.

The young agent dived in.

"You're an Alpha. The Healer and the chamber have started a process that will continue for some time. Alphas have a number of abilities that most other humans don't have. Most of those abilities have lain dormant, and some have atrophied until they barely exist anymore. The enhancement process that the Healer has started in your body has begun to awaken those abilities. At least you will have us to guide you. You have already started ... emitting pheromones that you will have to learn to control. They won't affect to any great degree another Alpha's mates, but they will certainly affect any unattached female you come near, and ... your own women. It can become quite embarrassing when a waitress sits on your lap in front of your mates."

Hanes just looked up from his eating and stared, having not the slightest notion what to say.

Diana sat on her husband's lap and injected, "We had some rather ... embarrassing moments when we were in a restaurant before we figured out what was going on with the pheromones. There was a time or two when I thought a waitress was going to strip for my husband right there with me looking on."

"Ladies," Jeff said, turning his gaze to the nurses. "With your permission, Little One will start the process in you as well. Obviously, from what you have already told us while we were there in the kitchen in Georgia, the three of you have decided to be together. The enhancement process will also have an effect on you. You will become even more beautiful. Any imperfections will disappear, your mental abilities will be enhanced, plus most everything else about your bodies. You, like us, will never grow old. We don't know how long we will live, and when I ask Little One about it, she seems not to fully understand what I'm asking. The concepts of age and ageing are apparently foreign to her. I am certain that our cells will reproduce perfectly, so the logical conclusion is that we'll live until we die of non-natural causes.

"I don't expect you to believe all of this at the moment," he continued. "I know that we didn't. But over time, you will come to realize that what I've said has to be true." He hugged Diana to him, "My Queen, as well as everyone here at the Retreat, has received, for the lack of a better term, a mental block that prevents them from freely disclosing our secrets to outsiders who don't have the block. I'm sure she, and the rest of my wives, want to tell you things. So the next stage in the merging of our families, after Little One starts the enhancement process in you two," he said nodding to Bobby and Sandra, "is to convince you to allow me to use the block on you. When that is complete, we will answer any question about anything we're involved in, and that includes the Ship, the team that came to rescue you — everything. You are family now. There will be no secrets.

"And..." Jeff continued, "this doesn't have to be right now. I know that you two ladies are bound to be exhausted. Kayla could barely stay awake through her shower, and I picked her up to put her in the bed. She was sound asleep before I could walk out of the room."

"All of these women, these ladies..." Art said, trying to be tactful.

" ... Are my wives in every sense of the word," Jeff supplied.

"And..." Diana interrupted to add, "we are the lucky ones. We have the most wonderful husband in the world." There were giggles and comments agreeing with her from all Jeff's women as Art and the nurses looked around them, barely believing that a man could have fourteen wives, let alone that they all seemed pleased with the situation.

"Ladies, you have no idea how lucky you are," Helen said, addressing Sandra and Bobby.

Laura put another steak on Art's plate while Joyce leaned over to refill his orange juice. "I'm going to bed," she said when she put the pitcher down. "I work nights. See you guys later," she finished as she touched Bobby and Sandra for a second.

Diana moved out of Joyce's way as the deputy plopped on her husband's lap and kissed him tenderly. "I'm glad you're back. If you get bored during the day, come wake me, hmmm."

"I'll be there," Jeff said as he hugged her. "Now go get some sleep and dream about me."

"No problem with that," Joyce laughed as she got up and walked out, adding a little extra sway to her hips, knowing her husband would be watching.

Bobby and Sandra nibbled on fruit from the tray. Both had moved their seats as close to Art as they could. Jeff noticed that both the nurses' nipples were showing, even through their bras and tops. Their faces were flushed and they could barely look away from Hanes. Art's pheromones didn't affect Jeff, nor his women, but they all knew that Art was emitting them in abundance.

Diana sat back in Jeff's lap and whispered in his ear for a moment. She got back to her feet, and Jeff stood.

"Art," the Prime said, "I need to interrupt your meal for a second. There's something I need to talk to you about in private. Okay?"

"We'll keep your food hot," Diana said.

"Sure," the young agent said, pushing back from the table and standing.

"Let's just go in the dining room for a moment," Jeff said, leading the way to the door that opened from the side of the kitchen to the dining room.

Inside, Jeff motioned to a table, pulling out two chairs. "Sit. We need to talk about something that concerns your enhancement."

The two sat at the table, their chairs pulled back a little and turned slightly facing each other. Jeff had his left arm propped on the table and he unconsciously drummed his fingers very lightly on the glossy surface. After a moment, he looked at Art. "Hell, I don't know where to start. What's happening is a product of your enhancement by the healing chamber, but it seems like you're producing pheromones much faster, or at least in greater, uh, volume than is usually normal this early in the process. And that may not be exactly correct. I suspect that some of it might relate to those very nice women of yours and their love for you. They obviously want you, and that's probably triggering the pheromone process, then the pheromones make your women want you more, and the circle continues.

"Anyway, here goes." The Prime leaned forward and locked eyes with Hanes, so the other Alpha would know — and feel — that Jeff was telling the truth. "One thing an Alpha can do that few other men can, is to produce pheromones. These pheromones won't affect to any great degree any other Alpha's women. And there are certain other limitations that I'll discuss with you later. But for now, I need to show you how to control them, because you're obviously stressing your women."

"But..." Art started.

"Yeah, I said, 'stressing, '" Jeff chuckled. "Oh, they'll love for you to shower them with pheromones in private, but right now they only know that they're ... ready to mate with you and they obviously can't get it off their minds."

Art sighed. "I didn't know what was going on. I still don't, I guess, but I am well aware of how they were acting in the kitchen, and before that, in our suite. I was ... embarrassed for them, but I didn't know quite what to do. And I'm apparently ... uh, affected too. I can't get my mind off them."

Jeff chuckled as he leaned back a little. "I can teach you how to turn the pheromones on and off. With time, you will learn more about their control, but remember — and I can't stress this enough — it is something that will leave an unprotected woman almost at your mercy, especially in an enclosed space. You won't notice any effects if you aren't thinking anything about sex, but we are males, and sex is never very far from our minds, particularly if there is an attractive female present."

"This is hard to believe..." Hanes started.

"You were doing it to some extent in Georgia, particularly when the nurses were close to you, but now that the enhancement process has been started, you're overwhelming your women." Jeff reached over and put his hand on Art's shoulder. "Now let's teach you how to tone this down until you can be alone with Bobby and Sandra. And incidentally, we need to get them through the enhancement process before you make love to them. The pheromones will shortly cause them to ovulate, but with Little One's enhancement, they won't ovulate until she turns the process back on. You won't need birth control."

"Little One, that little ... alien can do that?"

"That, and many other things. For now, though, let's teach you about the pheromones, then get you fed. After that, we'll sit down in the living room and continue with this conversation."

-------

When Jeff and Art walked back into the kitchen, Sandra and Bobby looked up and their faces blushed. Diana caught her husband's eye for a second and he knew his Queen had been talking to the two nurses.

Art slid his chair back in place, putting an arm around each of his mates. "Jeff said I was deluging you two with pheromones. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was doing that, but I think I can hold them back now. I hope you aren't too mad at me."

"But insects and some animals have pheromones, humans don't..." Bobby started as she and her sister looked at each other. But they both remembered how they had felt in the suite when Art was near, and also how they had felt here in the kitchen. The feeling had tapered off when Art and Jeff left the kitchen.

"Oh," both said, but followed it with a giggle.

They both hugged Art again as Sandra continued for them, "Who says we're mad at you?"

Laura set his plate back in front of him, but it only took a second for Art to realize that it was a new steak and a fresh, double helping of eggs and potatoes. The smell of the food revitalized the young agent's appetite.

Later, appetite or not, wonderful food or not, Art couldn't swallow another bite. He realized that he must have shut out the world, time had passed and during that time, he had eaten more than he had ever eaten in one sitting. Conversation had seemed to flow around him while he focused on assuaging the ravenous hunger inside him. I've eaten enough to be sick, but I feel absolutely great. Bobby and Sandra must have this feeling the healing chamber has given me. It's not fair for me to be the only one of us who feels this good.

As if Jeff were reading his mind. "Let's adjourn to the living room and get started with Bobby's and Sandra's enhancements. We need to discuss the blocks as well."

The nurses got up and began helping with cleanup, but Diana grabbed them. "We'll let you help later..."

"You people have prepared all this food for us and even brought it out to that, uh, ship. We..."

"You can help later," Diana insisted. "Now we need to sit down in the living room and give Little One a chance to fix your bodies."

ATLANTA GEORGIA

Matt Grigsby unlocked the front door while Courtney stood waiting, but before she could step through the opening, he stopped her with a touch on her shoulder. Taking her purse, he set it just inside the door as his wife looked a question at him. Chuckling, he picked her up, walked through, kicked the door closed behind them and continued on toward the bedroom.

At first, she had laid her head against his shoulder, but as they walked down the hallway she began to feel uncomfortable. "Uh, Matt. Honey, we need to talk first."

Grigsby kept going. In the bedroom, he sat her on the bed, pulled her heels off, toed his own shoes off and lay down, pulling her into his arms.

"Matt, maybe..."

He kissed behind her ear, knowing without looking that chill bumps had sprung up on her arms. She shivered, "Matt," she whispered weakly, "we need to talk first."

"I wanted to talk when I discovered you were gone. I had no idea why you left or where you were," he whispered into her ear as his hand slid under her blouse and toyed with the sides of her braless breasts, eventually caressing the palm of his hand across a nipple.

"Matt, you know I can't think when you do that," she said, not being specific about whether she was talking about her ear or her breasts.

"I have a job now that has very little danger associated with it."

"Matt, dammit, I've missed you. I might as well be with you and worry, as to not be with you and worry, anyway."

He wasn't sure whether she was agreeing with him or just griping. His mouth descended on hers and time took a vacation. Later, she realized that her panties had somehow disappeared and his finger was circling nearer and nearer to her clit. As the finger reached its goal, she sucked in a breath, her head thrashing from side to side as a mind-boggling orgasm hit. He finally managed to get his mouth on hers to stifle some of the noise, hoping that the neighbors wouldn't call the cops.

-------

Much later, nude, covered with sweat, they lay in the afterglow facing each other as she curled a few strands of his chest hair around a finger. His hand stroked her back. "I want you to call your boss and see if you can get a transfer to Denver. If she says no, just quit. We're moving to Denver. With my pay increase, we'll be okay whether you work or not."

"Yes, Dear," she whispered as she pulled him back on top of her. Reaching down, she guided him home yet again.

-------

Diana sat in a chair in Hope's bedroom. The fifteen-year-old sat on the side of her bed as she absently held the television remote in her hands, slowly turning it over and over, staring. "I'm sorry. I just can't," she said, refusing to meet Diana's eyes.

"I suppose I thought you would be overjoyed to meet the man who saved your life in that motel room back in Georgia," Diana said very quietly.

"I ... I don't know. Every time I think about that night ... Di, I'm better; I know I am, but ... I mean, Doctor Boswell is so nice to me when we talk about my fear of men, but no one really understands. I mean, when I had to ... service those old men, I just ... went somewhere else in my mind. I said all the things they wanted me to, did all the things they wanted, but I wasn't really there."

"Baby, I wish you had known to call us. You talked to Jennie regularly. If you had mentioned what was going on, we would have been there for you."

"You took Jennie and Melissa back with you. Why didn't you take me, too?" she suddenly wailed, dropping the remote on the bed and putting both hands over her face as she leaned forward, sobbing.

Diana jumped up, took the few steps between them and put her arms around Hope. Sitting beside her, the Queen pulled the girl into her arms, shushing her and stroking her hair.

"We didn't know anything else was going on. We thought the sex we saw was consensual. We had no idea your father was..."

"Whoring me out," Hope snarled before another burst of sobbing.

Diana held the teenager for a while until the sobs gradually became intermittent snubs. "We had fallen in love with Jennie and Melissa, and Jeff felt guilty about having made love to them, but they were adamant about living with us. They became hysterical at the thought of having to leave the Retreat. We used the threat of exposure of what we saw in that living room that night to get your parents and Melissa's parents to sign for Jennie and Melissa to live with us. We just didn't know, Baby. How long had this been going on?"

When Hope hesitated, Diana got up to retrieve a box of tissue. As she sat beside the girl again, Diana handed her a handful. "I know that you've been talking to Doctor Boswell, and I'm certainly no therapist, but if you want to talk to me, I would like to hear what you have to say."

Hope leaned over against Diana again. Finally, "I know I'm nuts..." Hope started.

"No, you are not nuts," Diana broke in. "You have been traumatized by that evil man — evil men," she corrected, "Your father and those others. I would be a basket case if I had been forced to do the things your father made you do. I can't imagine how you ever got through it."

"It was as if I didn't really do those things," Hope whispered. "I had this fantasy, this ... fantasy place that I went to in my mind. I left ... part of me to please those men, to act like a twelve-year-old who had never had sex before, but I wasn't there. That night in the motel when those awful guns went off, when my father's..." She took a breath. " ... brains splattered all over me, I hadn't gone to my special place yet. I always waited until the old man my father had chosen for me was ready, then I went to my special place in my mind.

"But that night when my father argued with that evil man about how much I was worth. My father was selling me because I was getting too old to pretend to be a twelve-year-old. When we went to that motel, I thought he was going to ... rent me out for the night as usual. I had no idea he was planning to sell me forever. I heard them say something about taking me out of the country. I didn't have time to go to my special place. They just started shooting. I guess I had never realized that guns were that loud. I mean, you see gunfights in the movies, or on TV. This was so loud. I ... I could feel the ... someone told me the word is concussion ... the concussion when that gun fired at my father. There was blood everywhere — all over me. I didn't have time to go to ... my special place," she repeated. "Since that night, I can't seem to go to my special place anymore. I never want to ... to fuck again. Never. I hate men. I'm scared to death of them. I know the men here won't hurt me. I've tried to be nice to Jeff, and he's always good to me. I know he tries to not be close to me, and I know that this person ... this man..."

"Art," Diana offered.

"This ... Art saved my life. I saw him in the hallway earlier. I tried to go closer and thank him. I really did, but when I started, I ... remembered that night ... that motel room. The memories all came rushing back. Please Diana. Please don't make me. The memories will come back again. It's like I'm there living it all over again. Art saved my life and I can't even thank him." The sobbing returned with a vengeance. "I can hear those guns. I can feel my father's brains ... splattering all over my face..."

Diana's empathy sucked her in. As they held each other, there were two females sobbing.



-------

Chapter 138


TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Since Joyce (the deputy) slept days, she usually chose another suite to sleep in, both for quiet and for the convenience of her sister-wives. If she slept in their suite, Jeff's other wives would hesitate to enter should they need something from the bedroom, since any slight noise or light could awaken the sleeping Joyce. Also, the wives often gathered in the big bedroom to relax and talk. But today, Jeff had told everyone that he had put Kayla to bed in their suite, so Joyce had joined her there.

Shortly after noon found Joyce beginning to wake. Sensing a gentle stream of warm air on her ear, her consciousness swam to the surface. A moment later, she suppressed a giggle that changed to a quiet moan as Jeff's lips kissed their way down to her throat.

"Morning breath," she mumbled as his mouth tracked for hers.

"Nah, afternoon," he chuckled, gluing his mouth to hers.

"Hmmmm. Can I have some of that too?" Kayla asked as she lay on her side watching them.

Jeff started to move over to Kayla just as both women tensed and Joyce sat up. "She's crying," Joyce said to Kayla.

"I know," Kayla said as she threw back the sheet. Both women rolled out of bed, scrambled into long tee shirts they kept near the bed, and were only a few steps ahead of Jeff as they went looking for the Queen.

"There," Joyce said, unnecessarily as they saw the rest of Jeff's wives near Hope's suite.

As Jeff put his hand on the door, Arlene touched his shoulder. "Let me, Dad. Hope would be uncomfortable..."

" ... with me in there," Jeff finished for her. "Okay, but let us know soon. I'm not going to wait long."

"Mom is just crying, Daddy. She's okay."

"'Just crying, ' is plenty enough for me," he said, frustrated, as he spun around and leaned back against the wall by the suite's door. Crossing his arms, he tried to relax, but wasn't successful. "How can my wives sense each other's emotions and I can't? I felt you, Joyce," he said looking at his wife, "when you were shot. Hell, I didn't just feel you, I was there, and we were miles apart. Yet, I can't feel my Queen when she's just down the hall."

"You can feel us when we're making love," Jennie pointed out.

"That's different," he grumped, causing several of his wives to chuckle.

"Yeah, it sure is," Ann said, grinning.

Jeff fought to keep from chuckling. After a moment, "Where's Laura?" he asked, looking around.

"Diana is crying and you have to ask where Laura is?" Helen said with — inflection.

"Sarcasm doesn't become a genius," Jeff said, trying to sound normal, but wanting to go in and check on his wife.

Helen leaned against him, her breasts tight against his chest, pulled his head down and kissed him. "She's fine. I suspect that Hope has some troubles, and Diana is sympathizing."

"I thought Hope was getting better. Why now?" Jeff thought for a second, then, "Oh. Art was the FBI agent who saved her. But why would that..."

"She's a very fragile young lady right now. As we all know, she has been through a lot," Helen said. "She's been here only a few days. Her recovery has barely begun. She'll have setbacks, but she will overcome — eventually."

The door opened and Arlene stuck her head out. "She's fine, Daddy. Mom just cried when Hope did." Turning to Helen, Arlene continued, "Mom needs you to help with Hope."

Helen went inside and a moment later Diana came out, her eyes red, but a smile on her face. "I'm sorry I troubled anyone. Hope is having some problems, and I let things get to me. She was crying, and I felt so sorry for her that I started crying, too."

"But what's wrong with her?" Nicki asked. "She seemed to be doing fine."

"She knew that Art was here and also knew that he was the undercover FBI agent who had saved her. I think she felt obligated to thank him, but thinking of him brought that night crashing back on her. The healing time has been too short and the memory is still too raw. We need to remember that she's fifteen and was forced to repeatedly have sex over a period of at least months, maybe longer, while pretending to be a twelve-year-old. Helen will be able to calm her down."

Jeff, his frustration showing, said, "Art probably hasn't thought about Hope twice since the shootout. He's had his own problems. Hell, he's been trying to stay alive."

Diana hugged her husband. "Helen has been expecting something like this, but I just felt so sorry for Hope. Baby, what her father made her do is ... terrible. It's too damn bad he was killed instantly. He should have had to suffer."

Jeff smiled at his Queen. "Want to go dig him up and kill him again? Seems like I've heard that not long ago," he chuckled.

Diana buried her face against his throat and giggled. "You always make me feel better. Now if we can just get Hope over this..." Diana looked into her husband's eyes. "We can't even imagine what she went through; how she feels. I've read of women who were never the same after a rape. She was forced to do this over and over. She hasn't told me how long it lasted, but I think it had been going on for a while when we walked into Jennie's living room that night. Maybe even a year or two on an occasional weekend. But I think it escalated after we took Jennie away. And Jeff, this was her father who did this to her."

"Shit," Jeff muttered.

-------

The nurses walked back into the suite, Sandra carrying a plate with two sandwiches on it, and Bobby carrying a large glass of milk. They put their burdens down on the coffee table in front of Art as he sat on the couch.

"I keep telling you that you don't have to wait on me anymore. I feel better than I have ever felt in my life."

Sandra stopped on one side of him and Bobby stopped on the other. Bobby leaned down and kissed him, followed by Sandra.

The two nurses looked at each other, then back at Art. "Us too. I can't believe all this. We both feel wonderful. First you're healed, then that little creature healed us, or enhanced us, as Jeff calls it."

"Little One," Sandra agreed. "It felt so odd telling her thank you, but I felt, or heard, or whatever you call it, something buzzing in my mind."

"We all did when we touched her," Hanes agreed.

They sat and watched Art begin to wolf down the sandwiches and drink the milk. "I guess Jeff's right about my eating. He says he thinks it's because I had so much to heal. The shoulder and hip had barely started knitting back, I suppose, and that surgeon said he put a lot of stitches inside my kidney, so it must have been torn up pretty badly. You two had that Healer thing on you, but you're not as hungry as I am."

Both nurses giggled, but Bobby spoke for the two of them. "We haven't eaten as much as you have, but we've eaten a lot. I hope Colonel ... uh, Jeff, is right about us not gaining weight."

Quiet descended on the three as Art took a big bite of a sandwich and sat back on the couch, his arms around the women, thinking.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Sandra asked, obviously worried.

Art let out a quiet sigh. "Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. In a way, that's what's wrong."

Both women looked a question at him.

He paused to take another big bite and a swallow of milk. "I don't know where to start. You two have told me a little about yourselves, but with everything that's happened, I haven't said much about myself. Since I've met you, I was too sick, blown away with pain meds, or busy being saved by you two or my fellow agents. Now, all of a sudden, I have nothing to do, and ... nothing to worry about. What am I supposed to do, just sit here in this rich man's home with my two beautiful women and hide until my group catches whoever is trying to kill me? Then,  we have to wait for a trial before it's over. Will it ever be over? Even if our database can pick out whoever it is I saw from sketches I'm somehow supposed to do, will that be enough to arrest him? Sure, knowing who the big cheese is will help the investigation, but we all know how hard it is to make charges stick to someone who is truly wealthy, not to mention the muscle these people command. From what I hear, slavery is only one of the things this group does. There's bound to be a lot of money involved.

"Look what they did to try to kill me. An assassin, for crying out loud, and if not for the two of you, I would have been dead right then. But you blew him away, Sandra, and you Bobby," he said squeezing her, "threw your body across mine to take a bullet for me." He hesitated for a moment, "Look, please don't take this wrong, but here I am, the big FBI man," he said, sarcastically, "and two pretty nurses are the reason I'm still alive. That assassin would have succeeded, if not for you two. Then,  they tried nerve gas. People don't do that. Oh, you hear about atrocities like that in some third world countries, but Atlanta, Georgia?"

Bobby leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "We have plenty of time; tell us about yourself. There's no one shooting at us, or coming with nerve gas." She looked at her watch. "We insisted on knowing when we could begin to help prepare meals. Jennie told us they start preparing supper about five. We have most of the afternoon. Maybe Hope will be there for supper so you two can meet again."

"I was expecting her at lunch. The kid went through a lot. She's pretty as a picture..."

That got him a matching set of frowns.

"Ladies. None of that. She's a kid."

"Wrong," Sandra said. "We saw her in the hall. She is not a kid. She is a living doll."

Art, having finished his milk and feeling somehow as if he were on dangerous ground, got up and got a soft drink for everyone. As he sat back and crossed his legs, the nurses snuggled to him again. "I'm feeling like a ... well, like a wimp."

"What..." the women said in unison.

"Where in the world did you come up with that?" Sandra finished.

"Well, like I said, I would be dead if it were not for you two, my fellow agents, and this outfit, whoever they are."

"Jeff told us that there would be no more secrets once we took that block thing. We did it, and they did tell us some things," Bobby said.

Sandra let out a chuckle. "They made a big deal out of that block thing, but I don't think mine took. I don't feel a thing."

"Me either," her sister agreed.

"I guess I don't feel the block, either," Art admitted. "But Colonel Matthews commands a damn spaceship, and that group he was with chewed up those mercenaries in just a few minutes, for crying out loud. If he says the blocks took, I'm inclined to believe him. And if we're fairly close to each other and he looks me in the eyes, I do know when he's telling the truth. I can feel it.

"I'm just feeling ... I don't know, maybe like I'm not in charge of my destiny any longer. But I know that you two had a major part in my survival. I'm not alive just because of a good surgeon. One or both of you were with me the whole time, working on me, and I know that doctor took your suggestions more than once. Yeah, and I guess my ego got swatted a bit — well, maybe more than a bit. I mean, I have had women saving my life, not just nursing me back to health. You two actually stopped me from being killed. But like I said, my ego took a trouncing. I just feel... so unnecessary," he finished, drawing out the last.

"Why, Baby?" the nurses both said. "Why should our helping to save you hurt your ego?"

"Well, look. My dad got himself killed. I decided to go to college. I sold our house and away I went. I was feeling a little put upon, and I've always been a loner, anyway, so I kind of secluded myself and actually studied in college. Well, I guess I studied a lot. School was easy for me, and so was college. All that studying produced some very nice grades. Anyway, the FBI recruited me, and I've always liked their look, so I took the job. If I had known what was ahead of me, I might not have been so eager.

"Anyway, Quantico was interesting, and I aced their tests and kinda fell in love with shooting at the same time. But I expected to go to work in a suit and tie. That didn't last long. By the time I was beginning to settle in as an agent, I was called in and given this 'important' assignment." The nurses didn't miss the hint of sarcasm in his words.

"They set me up with an identity, coached me for a few days, gave me a beat up old car, a 'wardrobe' of Goodwill clothes and turned me loose to try and get hired by part of this slaver organization. I couldn't just walk up and say I wanted to get into the slave trade, so I wound up being a roofer and hanging out at a bar that our intel said the slavers' muscle frequented.

"One of the guys on the roofing crew I was working with hated my guts. I have no idea why, but I think he was trying to either kill or maim me. I finally had enough of it, and the two of us tied up. Let me assure you of one thing. Roofers are tough. I guess, technically, I won since I was still, more or less, standing. But the outfit I was working for fired anyone caught fighting. Didn't matter if you were defending yourself or not. If the fighting took place on a roof, and obviously that's where we spent the majority of our time, both of you could die in a heartbeat, so the company had zero tolerance. But that fight and my being fired worked to my advantage in getting a job with the slavers.

"After a few months, they began to trust me a little more and even provided me with a weapon — the one I killed them with. I had no idea what was going to happen that night, but I knew I wasn't going to let that little girl be taken out of the country. While I was trying to figure out what to do, my boss and the girl's father got in a shootout. It was quick and deadly. Hell, we were all standing practically nose-to-nose. I'm still amazed I lived through those few seconds. That poor kid got her daddy's brains and blood splattered all over her, and I picked up a few holes in the process. I managed to get to the phone, and that's about all I remember until I woke up in the hospital."

"Diana says Hope is afraid of men, or at least uncomfortable around them."

"Well, no bloody wonder," Art said.

"Uhhmmm," Sandra said nuzzling Art's neck.

He kissed her, then kissed Bobby. "I really screwed up dumping those pheromones on you two when we first came in here."

"That wasn't your fault," Sandra quickly said. "Besides, tonight we can take up where we left off."

"I've never heard of a man having pheromones. I surely didn't know I was projecting them, or whatever the hell you call it. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know what."

The nurses looked at each other, then burst out with the giggles. After a moment, tickled, Art started laughing, too.

"I don't think we would call it 'wrong.' You do know how to turn them back on, don't you?" Bobby asked, looking at her sister with a smile.

"Yeah. Jeff showed me how to turn them on and off, but that's all I can do. He says it's possible to regulate them so that the woman is barely affected, and he says my control will get better with time. Hmmm, maybe I shouldn't try to use them for now..."

"Why," Sandra said. "We want you to use them on us. We loved that feeling. We just didn't know what was bringing out the ... uh, slut in us," she finished with another giggle. "We want you to turn them back on when we go to bed, and we surely don't want it to be late tonight so we can have an early start with our loving, don't we Bobby?"

"You bet," Bobby laughed.

"Ladies, I love both of you, but well, I ... I mean there are two of you. I'm certainly not a virgin, but I'm surely not a Casanova, either."

"Just turn on the pheromones and we'll work out the rest," Sandra said as she and her sister locked eyes.

The women continued to look at each other for a moment, then turned more toward Art. "We love you," they said in perfect unison.

"We told you back in Georgia that we were yours. Hopefully not sounding too melodramatic, but our lives are yours," Sandra said.

"Forever," Bobby agreed.

Art kissed each of the nurses as tenderly as he could, trying to project his love to them. "And mine, yours," he agreed. "Forever."

JUST OUTSIDE A SMALL NORTHWESTERN TOWN

For the third time today, the younger man had been summoned to the older man's office.

"Still nothing?" the older man snarled as the younger approached him in the big office. At the younger's nod, "Start at the beginning. I want to hear it all again. I want to understand how you could have fucked this up."

The younger man took a breath. "We lost satellite imagery shortly after the mercenaries deployed. The copters left, but never reached the airport. The last image we have of the mercenaries shows them moving through the field and the helicopters leaving. There was a period of time that we could not see the house or any of the nearby area..."

"Weather?"

"There was severe weather — a huge storm — but the satellites have equipment that should 'look through' the clouds, only ... it didn't seem to work. We could see the surrounding area, but for a mile or so around the house, nothing. Imagery from later satellites worked fine and we saw a number of people picking small objects up from the ground in a field, vacant lot, or whatever the proper term is where the helicopters put down. We're not certain, but I've begun to think they were picking up expended shell casings from the mercenary's weapons. Judging from how long it took them to do whatever they were doing, and if they were picking up expended casings, it must have been a hell of a firefight."

"But you found no bodies and the house is still standing?" the older man snarled as he came to his feet and stood behind his desk, his temper flaring.

"That is correct. We found nothing," the younger man replied, trying not to flinch.

"And who were the mercenaries fighting with? I thought you told me there were less than a dozen FBI personnel there. How could they even begin to defend against a surprise attack of thirty heavily armed mercenaries?" He grabbed up a stack of pictures. "These show a perfectly intact house. There are downed trees all over, from the storm I suppose, but the house doesn't appear hurt. It was supposed to be blown to pieces along with everyone inside it. The house being intact means that our group was either killed, or arrested before they could even begin their assault. But where in the fuck are they?

"These latest pictures don't show a single vehicle around that house. That fucking agent who saw me is gone, and thirty fucking mercenaries are, too," he finished, throwing the picture on his desk in disgust. "I gave you full authority on this. How in the hell could you fuck up killing one man with a whole team of mercenaries to do the job for you? They damn sure cost enough," he raged. "You told me they were the best. And ... you damn sure better find that son-of-a-bitch before the fucking FBI pays me a visit. Find him soon or you're going to join your predecessor."

"Yes, Sir."

The young man hurried out of the office. He's going to kill me, just like he did the guy before me. Fuck this shit. I'm going to find a way out of here before he sends one of his goons for a visit. Fuck him. I have information the FBI would love to have. Thinking hard, he headed back to his office.

-------

Jeff and General Whitworth were relaxing in one of the sitting rooms that overlooked the front of the Retreat. Although Jeff had seldom smoked, he accepted one of the General's cigars. Somehow, it seemed appropriate.

"Two grown men having to sneak off to smoke a cigar," Whitworth pretended to grump. "It's a damn shame."

"Yep, but until someone comes up with something that's as good as pussy, we're stuck." Jeff took another drag off the expensive cigar and wondered if he were going to get dizzy since he hadn't smoked in quite awhile.

"Yeah, there is that." Whitworth slid an ashtray near and tapped ash off his cigar. "Seems odd that our enhancement will allow us to smoke, but it won't tolerate alcohol. I miss having a shot of my good scotch at the end of the day."

"Diana and Arlene still smoke occasionally, but I think it's just because they want to, rather than a habit pushing them to do it." Jeff wasn't going to mention that the two teased him with what they thought was his fetish.

"I just talked to my source — well one of my sources — at the FBI. He says your buddy, the other Alpha you talked about, has been promoted to SAC and will be in charge of the Denver office. After you saved his ass, I strongly suspect he will be only too glad to do you a favor now and then."

"He seems like a pretty sharp guy."

Whitworth slipped his shoes off and propped his feet on the window seat. "Damn, it's snowing again. Look at the size of those flakes."

Jeff chuckled. "Arlene will get to run the snow blower. She likes that thing for some reason."

"I'll bet she wouldn't be quite as enthused about it if it was a walk-behind model," the General said with a slight laugh.

Jeff and the General chuckled together. "Probably right about that," the Prime agreed.

They were quiet for a while, then, "Uh, Colonel, I have something to ask you."

Jeff just looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"It's your own dammed fault," Whitworth groused, but it was obvious he was kidding. "Your marrying all those women and everything."

"Barbara?" Jeff said. (The General's sister-in-law.)

"Yep, well actually both of them. They ganged up on me this morning. I guess Ellen is feeling like she has something that her sister can't have. Well, until now, that is. Hell, I treat them the same, but well, I can't in public, but I do at home."

"When do they want to do it?"

"Didn't say. Didn't ask. I just told them I would check with you about it. It doesn't make any difference to me, but Ellen wants her sister to be my wife, too, and Barbara is also keen on it, I suppose."

"Would you mind if Fred and his women were married in the same ceremony?"

"What? Hell no. I like Fred. I'll check with Barbara and Ellen, but I'd be amazed if they don't say yes to the idea."

"There's also Tina. Frank and Margaret have been waiting around before going on their honeymoon to make sure that Tina knows what she's doing before they all tie the knot. Tina already has her dress. I'm pretty sure they're about ready, too."

"I'll tell my women to get with Diana. My part of the planning is over," Whitworth said, dead serious.

"Same for me," Jeff laughed. "They tell me when to show up; that's all I need to know."

"Another subject," the General said, his tone changing. "You said the Ship destroyed the helicopters those mercenaries came in?"

Jeff shrugged. "The Ship destroyed them over a forest not too far from Atlanta. There was very little wreckage left, if any. Why, did someone happen to witness the event?"

"No, not that I know of. This is something entirely different. I suppose whoever was commanding the mercenaries had also provided a backup escape route. Assuming they didn't plan on the storms, I would think the copters would have circled at a distance and returned when the mercenaries called for them."

"Yeah, about what we thought," Jeff agreed.

"Whatley just called me on the secure phone. Seems there was a charter-type bus a mile or so away and headed generally toward the nurses' home. A tree fell across the front of the bus during the storm and a limb skewered the solitary person in the bus — the driver — killing him instantly. The only marking on the bus was an electronic sign above the front window with the word CHARTER on it. The bus was registered to a bogus company in Missouri."

"Probably a lot of charter buses around. Quite a few entrepreneurs own or rent busses to take people gambling, or to ball games and the like. Could have been someone dodging paying his taxes by setting up the bogus company. Might have been just a coincidence."

"Yeah, the cops first thought it was simply a charter bus, but then one of the cops got suspicious about the driver's license the guy had on him. It was an apparently legitimate Georgia driver's license, made of the proper materials, and for all practical purposes, it was legitimate. But the cop suspected that the number should not have been issued yet, and he was right; it had not been, but someone had access to the state's database and the equipment and materials to print out a license. Apparently they were unable to make it register as a valid license in the database. When the cops ran the number, it came back as 'not on file.' So someone decided to run the driver's prints. Bingo! He's on Homeland Security's watch list. That stirred up a hornet's nest, but Whatley said that no one has asked him anything about the nurses' home or the battle. The cops didn't wait for Homeland Security, but started detail searching the bus. Under a panel near the driver, they found an automatic weapon, and another panel yielded a case of ammo. Looks like the Good Lord took out one of the mercenaries Himself," Whitworth finished, chuckling.



-------

Chapter 139

Diana and Jeff were sitting on a love seat in one of the hallway alcoves that overlooked the back parking lot. Jeff had just returned from speaking with Hope. He had been staring out the window as he and his Queen chatted. Jeff sighed, stretched his long legs out and propped his feet on an ottoman. "I have a problem. We have a problem. As you are aware, Little One and the Ship continue to tell me I'm a Prime. If that's true, then everyone who lives in this Retreat is my responsibility. You, my Love are my Queen. You run the household and the family, but if we accept this Prime thing, then I'm ultimately responsible for all the Alphas and their families."

"Jeff, we've discussed this before..." Diana started, but Jeff continued.

"Whether I like the position or not, whether I asked for it or not, I'm apparently the only one who that ... starship out there," he said, waving vaguely toward the outdoor range, "will allow to command her. I can hear better, smell better and see better than anyone I know or have ever heard of. My reflexes are faster. All that, and more, came about because of the Ship and Little One, and there are other things that I haven't mentioned..."

"Jeff, you've always been different, and you know it. Little One and the ship have enhanced you, but you've always been a Prime. And ... you have other abilities," Diana teased, "like turning our orgasm switch on and off," she inserted.

He felt his face flush, "Uh, yeah. That too." There was a hesitation, then, "I was with Joyce the night she was shot, even though I was miles away. And there are other things, most of which I can't seem to control. But getting back to what I started to say, the bottom line, to use an overused term, is that I'm responsible for everyone here. I don't mean to exaggerate this, but I can't accept these ... gifts I've received without shouldering the responsibility that seems to go with them. It's a ... feeling. No, that isn't exactly the correct word; it's almost a certainty — an absolute, maybe — that I'm responsible for all my ... Alphas. My Alphas. I own no one, but somehow I feel a total responsibility. Feeling, belief, impression, sense, hell I can't describe it, but I'm responsible. Responsible for everyone here, for and to my Alphas and their families. I have to protect them. It's more than just love, friendship, whatever. I have to. It's ... part of me."

"I understand all that, Baby, but what's wrong?" Diana asked, worried, as she reached over to take her husband's hand.

"Hope is what's wrong. Hope and Art."

Diana looked down for a second, suddenly realizing what her husband meant. "Helen says the counseling sessions will make things better, but they will take time, maybe a long time. I talked to Hope in detail after everyone came to see why I was crying. She understands that Art saved her life, or at least saved her from being sold into slavery and no telling what else, but she can't seem to be comfortable around men after that night. Oh, sometimes, things are easier for her than at other times. She's been eating with everyone, and she even hugged you once. But from what she told me, she had planned to thank Art for saving her. But when she saw him in the hallway, that night in the motel seemed to come crashing back on her. Later, from a distance, she saw Art again, and the same thing happened. It was as if she were suddenly there again, the memory apparently much more intense than it had been without the stimulus of seeing Art — much more.

"She says that she had had a 'special place," a fantasy place that she went to in her mind while she serviced those wealthy men. She calls them 'old rich men.' She said she went away in her mind, just leaving 'part' of her behind to pretend to be a twelve-year old, to say the things they wanted to hear, to do the things they wanted her to do. But the part that was her was safely in her special fantasy place. That night in the motel, she was expecting to be 'rented out' for the night. She didn't know her father was going to sell her. She heard them say they would be taking her out of the country, and was devastated by the knowledge. She stood there stunned, almost directly behind her father while he argued price — price for her life of slavery.

"She said the shooting started and her father's brains and blood splattered on her face — all over her as well. And ... she was fully there. She had always waited to go to her special place until the man was ready to fuck her. She was fully aware when they suddenly started shooting. She keeps emphasizing how loud the guns were in that small room. By the way she talks, she expected guns to sound like they do in the movies or on TV, but of course, they were much louder. Apparently, she even felt the concussion from the round that killed her father. Somehow, seeing Art brings it all back. I think she honestly wants to thank him, but she can't get past the horror of that night. Seeing Art causes Hope to relive that night."

"Di, I understand, and sympathize with her, but what about Art? Not only is that young agent's life changed because of what he did for her. Last night, Kayla killed because of Hope; so did my team. Oh, those people needed killing, true enough, but Kayla stayed right beside me and never flinched from her duties — doing things she had not received sufficient training to do with any reasonable amount of safety. One of my men almost died. If not for Little One and the Ship, he would have.

"One day Hope will probably be some Alpha's wife. Will she look back on today and wish things had gone a little differently? Will she be ashamed of the way she acted? She has to face her fears, confront them head-on just like Kayla did last night. She said she was scared spitless when the bullets started flying, but she did not flinch from her duties."

"Hope isn't quite sixteen..." Diana started.

Jeff let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know, but Arlene was only a few months older, and she ran down this hallway right here," he said, motioning, "to confront a mercenary that she had every reason to believe would probably kill her. She did it to buy me time to get Helen to safety. Jennie practically stuck a Glock in that other mercenary's ear when she blew his brains out. This from a girl who had been afraid of guns when she came here. If she's bothered about killing that merc, she is damn sure hiding it well.

"Di, how long will it be before Art figures out what's going on? We can only stall so long, and I will not lie to another Alpha. Hell, I'm not even sure I can. What's next? When he finds out, will he start taking his meals in his suite so he won't stress Hope by being in the kitchen with her? How will he feel when he realizes that the sight of him causes that night to come back, practically overpowering her mind? I'm responsible for both of them — to both of them. I even signed for her. I'm responsible for her," he repeated. "But I'm responsible for Art as well.

"Look what he's given up. Will he ever be safe? He can't continue his career as an FBI agent when he has to hide to stay alive. You told me that Hope can't go to her special place anymore. She can't escape to her fantasy where no bad things happen. But she's already in a special place. A place where she no longer has to worry about pleasing men while she pretends to be a twelve-year-old. A place where she is protected, not only by the best security force in the world and leading edge technology, but by people who love her and would fight to the death for her. And Di, you know I'm not exaggerating. Maybe she doesn't have to go to her special place in her mind anymore because that special place is right here."

"Jeff, Baby, what you're saying is very logical, but feelings and emotions aren't logical. They just exist. She is scared or at least uncomfortable around any male and has to force herself to be around any of you. Helen says this will gradually go away, and I think she's right. But seeing Art keys something, and Hope's memory of that night in the motel becomes much more vivid — terrifying for her. She knows he saved her, and she isn't intellectually worried that he will hurt her, but he's the catalyst of her reliving the horror of that night."

Jeff nodded his head. "Yeah. I suspect that none of us will ever be able to truly understand what she went through, but even I can understand enough to be appalled by what happened. It took a very brave and resilient young lady to do what she had to do and survive both mentally and physically. Yet, as much as I sympathize with her, I also have a young Alpha here who damn near gave his life to save hers. He could have stood there, done nothing, and not been shot. But he refused to allow her to be sold as a slave. With her father dead, the slavers who were left alive would have taken her with them.

"Chances are that at some point Art saw someone, or was in some way involved with someone high up in the organization. We assume that's the reason they're so intent on killing him. If he had done nothing, he and the surviving slavers would probably have continued working for the organization, maybe even have been promoted, and chances are he would have learned more to be able to help save other girls. But he blew his cover, and almost gave his life when he chose to save Hope. The beautiful young lady who didn't even show up to eat lunch with us — lunch with her savior, lunch with the guy who prevented her from being raped countless times until she eventually died from some awful disease or was killed because she had lost her looks and was no longer considered marketable. A young lady who was conspicuously absent at our noon meal when our whole family, along with the other Alphas and their families, were there.

"I understand the horror of what's happened to her. I really, really do, but ... we can't allow her to shame the man who freely offered his life for her. She didn't save him — didn't do a thing to try and help him when he was shot. He, along with a couple of paramedics, doctors and nurses saved his life. He crawled to that phone and called 911 to give his location. His life has been totally changed because of what he did for her. Now he has to hide from some very powerful and dangerous people for no telling how many years."

The Prime turned to stare hard at his wife, a deep frown creasing his face. "What the fuck am I to do, Di? If I help one, I will hurt the other. But I can't just sit around and do nothing."

Diana snuggled closer to her husband, then after a moment, got up and sat on his lap. She slid down a little and nuzzled her face against his neck, pushing her breasts against his chest. "What about Little One? Do you think..."

"She can repair, even make most any part of us better than the original, but she won't touch a person's personality. Baby, no matter what I say, everyone seems to think that she and I converse like the two of us are doing now. We don't. She's a telepath. As I've said over and over, she 'converses' in concepts. Admittedly, we can understand each other much better now than we could a couple of months ago, but I don't know if I could even convey to her what our problem is. And ... I'm not sure I could understand her response, anyway. She surprises me sometimes though, and we wind up communicating faster and in much more detail than I ever could by using speech. Apparently, while Little One was with Arlene in the chamber, the Ship enhanced Little One's ability to use the power of the dimensions. Her ability to heal quickly has obviously been increased, also, I think, her mental power as well. But she doesn't have the ability the Ship does. There is simply no comparison."

"So, why not ask the Ship about fixing Hope?"

"Honey, I ... Di, the Ship is an alien. Basically an AI, although that's an insult to such a vast mind. But vast or not, she's alien. Altering the personality of someone from another race; that's a scary concept."

The Queen briefly touched her lips to his before continuing, "Who says she would have to alter Hope's personality? You know that the Ship and Little One were both in Arlene's mind while our daughter was in that healing chamber. Arlene thought she died. I don't know. Maybe she did. But I think those two beautiful women she tells about were the Ship and Little One. I don't think those women were just a product of an oxygen-starved brain as it was dying.

"Hope's problem is the intensity of her memories from that night. At least, that's what I understand from what she tells me. The sight of Art triggers those memories and they become almost real in their impact. What if the intensity were less, hmmm? Generally, when something bad happens to us, the memory of it is extremely intense for a few days, but the intensity gradually fades. When we lose a loved one, the memory hurts terribly to begin with, but after awhile, it begins to lose some of its intensity. We never forget that person, or the grief we feel, but the memory, the feeling, isn't as strong. With most of us, the memory eventually diminishes until we can live normal lives, or near-normal ones. What if the Ship could ... fade Hope's memories of that night? You've told us that Little One and the Ship enhance our brains, and among other things, make the synapses and axons work faster — better. Maybe there's a way the Ship can reverse the process where those memories reside in her brain."

"Baby, what you're saying is logical, but I seriously doubt that our brains are that simple, or a concept of that nature would work — even if the Ship could do it. Oh, she can physically repair most anything wrong with our brains, but I certainly don't have a clue whether she could do this or not. We're not talking about just a physical repair. Screwing with someone's brain — memories ... And even if the Ship says she can do this, Hope would have to thoroughly understand and agree."

"But you would know if the Ship could do this after you ask her, won't you? I mean, you say you become part of her when you lie on that command couch, right? She's not like Little One; you don't have to interpret what she says?"

"Di, I..."

"I would love to see Hope walk in, sit down on Art's lap and hug his neck. He deserves that. Why don't you ask the Ship? If she says she can help, I'll talk to Hope — tell her everything you said. She'll do it if the both of us say it's the thing to do. Or ... we can wait for months, years, or forever for her to get over that night. There have been lots of young women who have had less trauma, and never recovered."

Jeff sighed and hugged his Queen to him. "All right, I'll ask, but if the Ship says there is any chance of harming Hope..."

"I understand," Diana said. "Now why don't you kiss me, then go have a chat with the Ship."

The "chat" comment was so absurd that Jeff chuckled. "Okay, I'll have a 'chat' with her, but I'm not promising anything, understand?"

"Yes, Dear," she teased.

-------

In the early afternoon, after their conversation in the sitting room, Art Hanes, Bobby and Sandra, all tired from the missed night of sleep, plus the stress, had practically fallen into the big bed in their suite. Now that Art was no longer deluging them in pheromones, the nurses were able to kiss and hug him without thoughts of raping him, then snuggle in his arms as the three gave over to their fatigue.

Art had awakened from his nap a couple of hours later. The three hadn't bothered to undress or pull down the comforter, but had only slipped off their shoes and practically collapsed on the bed. Earlier in the day, Diana had called Sandra and Bobby aside and tactfully mentioned that she and her sister-wives, as well as the other women in the Retreat, had forsaken wearing bras in the building if only family were present. She had assured them that if they chose to do so, none of the Alphas, including Jeff, would leer at them, but also teased that there might be an occasional glance since all the men who lived here were very virile.

Diana had smiled at them. "You'll be sensing this soon enough. One Alpha would never even consider touching another Alpha's women in an inappropriate way. So, whether you wear a bra or not is up to you. If you get excited or your breasts get cold and your nipples pop, another Alpha might tease you, at worst, but that's all it will ever be. We're all family here, and we take that very seriously. Because of the Alphas and the enhancement, we bond quickly. Just consider the other Alphas as your brothers. After you get to know them better, one might hug you or kiss you on the cheek or forehead. Love for our husband and sister-wives is strong, and so is his love for us. Integrity is not just a concept here, but the rule. I could walk into Dave and Evie's apartment and find Evie topless sitting on my husband's lap and I would never think a thing about it. Oh, I might wonder why she was topless, but I know that Evie would never have sex with my husband, and I know that my husband would never have sex with another Alpha's mate. Not just think it, but know it.

"Understand though that Alphas are different. One or two women are generally not enough for an enhanced Alpha. With the enhancement, they are able to sexually fulfill several women. There are fourteen of us, and Jeff takes care of us almost every night. As you become more ... accustomed to your mate," she said with a slight giggle, "and he with you, he will learn more about pleasing multiple mates. There is a thing that Jeff does, and your mate will also learn. When he makes love to one, and another mate or mates as the case may be, are touching him or the mate he is loving, all will receive the same stimulus. All will orgasm at the same time, and it's somehow real.

"When he ejaculates inside the woman, the other mates touching will feel it just as she does. Afterward, the vaginas of the ones who were touching will feel as if they have been stretched and used, just as the one who was being loved would. The labia will be swollen and red — flushed with physical excitement, the whole vulva, for that matter. In essence, the only difference is that the ones who were just touching won't have any semen in them, but it will feel as if they do.

"Not always, but generally, one of the Alpha's women will be a Queen. Apparently, there are born Queens, and Queens who achieve the status because of what happens as the Alpha's mate. We think it's because one of the Alpha's women decides to expand his harem, but that is oversimplified. She wants him to have additional mates. We don't fully understand the process, and indeed, don't really understand a lot about Alphas. The information Little One has given us comes from the race that ... created her — an alien race. At best, we're only using parallels that may be accurate, but could easily be way off base. We suspect there are also female pheromones involved as well as something that changes in our brains. An Alpha's mates become phenomenally close to each other. I cried today as I sympathized with someone. My crying precipitated my sister-wives hurrying to help me. And no, they were nowhere near, and certainly could not have heard or seen me. Apparently because of the high emotion, they just knew. Many times we feel a sister-wife when she orgasms, even if we're in another room. Sometimes, we have felt a sister-wife's orgasms while we are in another part of the Retreat entirely. And the ability to feel high emotions from a sister-wife is also becoming stronger. Where it will end is something we continue to ponder.

"I know where, or at least in what direction, my husband is — all the time, and so do his other wives. Arlene could sense him when she was eight, so it isn't totally connected with wife status, although, it might be because Arlene is a born Queen. We're not sure. But after you mate with Art, you will soon be able to know in which direction he is, too. Maybe it's the Alphas pheromones that change something in our brains that somehow triggers a ... direction finder for our Alpha. Or maybe it's his sperm. I always know Jeff's direction, even though he may be hundreds or even thousands of miles away. The women from the other Alphas can do the same thing. It doesn't even require thought. We just know in which direction our mate is. It's ... part of us."

The women had told Art what Diana had said. As he lay on the bed with the nurses in his arms, he could feel their soft breasts pressing against his sides. Each had a leg and an arm thrown over him. They were both deeply asleep, their breathing slow, each expelled breath producing a tiny sound, an almost-snore, more of a tweet. Damn, they even sound alike when they snore,  he thought. He waited ... and there it was again. The sound was almost like a small bird letting out a couple of chirps. He waited for it again. When the sound came, he had to repress a giggle. What the fuck? I haven't giggled in years. Women and girls giggle; men don't. But he had to fight back his amusement before he embarrassed himself.

His dick would have been standing proud if he had been nude, but it was pressing against his jeans in a manner that demanded he rearrange himself. Tweets in stereo. Their breathing is even synchronized. I wonder if their periods are. More importantly, I wonder if their PMS is. Oh, shit. I'll bet that's going to be fun,  he thought sardonically.

He chuckled aloud in spite of himself, the laughter shaking his body a little. The stereo tweets stopped. Two mouths withdrew where they had been slobbering on his shirt. Two pretty sets of eyes glared at him.

"Almost time to get up if you're going to help with supper," he said as he tried discreetly to rearrange his dick.

Sandra turned to her back, put her arms above her head and stretched. Her breasts did nice things under her tee shirt. She caught him looking. "And what are you looking at?" she teased.

"Some very nice titties."

"And mine?" Bobby asked, stretching like her sister.

"Also very nice, as you certainly know."

"And what is that?" Sandra said as she nodded to the lump in his pants.

As she reached for the lump, Art caught her hand. "I've been thinking, Ladies..."

"Thought I smelled something burning," Bobby giggled.

"Old joke. Old worn out joke," Art chuckled as he tickled her.

After a short tussle with the women, Art sat up and turned around to face them, crossing his legs under himself. The nurses quickly picked up on the serious expression on his face and they slid back to prop themselves against the head of the bed. "As far as I can tell, I'm not doing the thing with my pheromones."

Both nurses shook their heads.

"Okay, I've had a conversation with Jeff a little earlier."

"And we've spoken with Diana, as we told you," Bobby reminded.

"Well, I ... Will you marry me? Both of you?"

"We can't both ... oh, you mean like they have?" Sandra said.

"Yeah. I can't legally marry both of you, but..."

The sisters looked at each other, obviously communicating. "You don't have to do that," Bobby said. "Jeff and Diana both say you're our Alpha. We've already agreed to be your mates. But..."

"I love both of you. We need to be married. Will you marry me?"

"Yes! Yes!" they said together.

Sandra and Bobby grabbed him, and he kissed first one then the other. The two sisters kissed, then turned somewhat guiltily to Art.

He watched as both began to blush. "What?" he asked, wondering.

The sisters glanced at each other as they were wont to do when they made unspoken decisions. Bobby was apparently elected to speak. "Uh, Diana tells us that they — all Jeff's wives that is — aren't just married to him. They're married to each other as well."

Sandra picked up the thread of thought, "Bobby and I are ... almost one person. We do everything together. We love the same man, and I guess we always knew we would. We hope..."

"Definitely yes," Art interrupted. "All of us to the others. I've seen how these people act around each other. It's not just Jeff's wives. Dave's, Frank's and Bill's wives seem to be the same way."

Bobby interrupted. "Frank is married to Margaret, but Tina isn't a wife yet. She will be soon, though."

"Okay, but she acts like she is. But I want our marriage to be like all these people have — like Jeff's. I feel ... at home here. I know that doesn't make sense; we've just gotten here. Heck, I can't remember everyone's name yet, let alone find my way around. But there's something about this place."

"Yeah," Bobby teased, "it's built for the wealthy."

Art chuckled. "Yes, there is that, but..."

"We know what you mean," Bobby admitted.

"But how am I going to buy rings and wedding dresses? I don't have a damn dime I can get to. I need to contact Grigsby. He was my contact at the Atlanta office. But, hell, if I do that, that slaver organization might well be here in a heartbeat. Who knows? They could have people in our agency working for them. Money buys a lot." After hesitating for a moment, "I need to talk to the Colonel," he finished, getting to his feet and looking for his shoes.

"We don't have to have rings and dresses..." Bobby started.

Art sat on the bed to slip his shoes on. "Bullshit. I lived off what I made as a roofer, and then what I got from the slavers. I have more than a year's salary waiting for me from the FBI. I just need to figure out a way to get it without raining the world down on my ass."

After kisses and hugs from both women, he went on, less sure of himself if possible. "Uh, how soon do you think we could do this, assuming I can get my money, of course? How long does it take to buy wedding dresses? We're not far from Denver; there will be plenty of places to buy rings and dresses there. But I can't use a credit or debit card. They're bound to be watching for that. Hell, all my personal stuff is in the Denver office locked in a safe, anyway. Maybe, if I can find a secure way to talk to Grigsby, I can somehow get my salary in cash."

Suddenly, he stopped. "What am I talking about? We had to get away so fast that we didn't prepare anything for our new life. I suppose the bureau will fix us up with new identities — new everything. If I can get that taken care of and get my money quickly, we can buy your dresses and rings with my new identity. Of course, I don't know much about the area. My first assignment was out of the Denver office, but I'm not from around here."

"Diana," both women said.

Then from Bobby, "They've done it fourteen times. They should have it down to a fine art by now. And ... she said something about a dress shop."

"Yeah. Good idea. No use reinventing the wheel. If I could just get to my money," he complained. "But, you can bet this group that's been after me will be watching my bank account, and probably yours as well."

"Art, we want to marry you soon — really soon. We don't have to have wedding dresses, and we can get the rings later, too," Bobby said as Sandra nodded her agreement.

Art grabbed both women to him and hugged them. "No. You're going to have wedding dresses and rings. Absolutely. We'll figure out a way."

Bobby looked up at her mate. "We have money in our account and you're welcome to it, but I guess the same thing applies to us. They found you in the hospital, and then again at our house, so they'll be watching our account, too."

"Shit," both said in unison.

Art chuckled.

"What?" they said again in perfect symphony.

When Bobby realized what he was laughing at, "We've always done it."

Sandra: "That's another reason people think we're twins."

Bobby: "But we're doing it more since we've been close to you."

"I wonder," they said in chorus. Both of them wondering if the pheromones somehow made their synchronized speech easier.

Bobby looked at her watch. "It's time we went to help in the kitchen," she said as both women slid their hands across his groin. "We'll take care of that tonight when we go to bed."

"Wait," Art said, pulling first Bobby then Sandra to him for a kiss. "We've waited this long..."

The women looked at each other. "Because you were shot to pieces," Bobby said. "We would have made love with you at our home..."

"And you did," Art offered.

"Well, you know what we mean," from Sandra.

"If we can be married soon, I want to wait." When both sets of eyes locked on him, he continued, "I know. I know. Men aren't supposed to be the ones who want to wait for sex, but you two are special. You say that the two of you have only made love to a man once each..."

"Not 'made love, '" Sandra corrected, "Just had sex with. More accurately, laid there while he humped a few times, made a weird sound and shot off in his condom."

"All the more reason to..." Bobby started.

" ... wait until we're married," both women finished.

"I can't believe I'm talking about waiting for our wedding to make love," Art said, chuckling. "That isn't very manly."

"Oh, yes it is," Sandra said. The nurses looked at each other again before Sandra added. "Does that include oral sex?"

"No," Art chuckled. "I'm not foolish enough to think I could hold off on everything with the two of you sleeping with me." He sucked in a breath, then let it out before, "You've got to understand that I spoke before I even considered how hard it will be."

Both nurses snickered. "Alright," he laughed, "How difficult it will be to hold the two of you in my arms at night and not make love to you."

"Oh, we can make love," Bobby said, "but we just have to keep big Art there," she said pointing, "out of our..."

"Pussies," Sandra offered with a giggle. "We've never had a man use his mouth on us. From what we hear from some of our friends, that's something we want to try."

"I'm not the best in the world, but I've done it a few times, and I'm sure I will love doing it to you two."

Sandra slipped her shoes on, "We need to get out of here before..."

"Yeah. Pheromones or not, we're feeling like we might want to try that out, as in right now."

Art hugged both young women again. "So we're agreed that we'll try to hold off on..."

"Penetration," Bobby supplied.

"Uh, on penetration until we can get married?"

"Yeah, we agree," Sandra said, "if we can get married quickly. We're not talking about waiting months, though. But, yeah, we would like to walk down that aisle expecting your cock for the first time."

"Okay, I'll find Jeff while you two help with dinner, or supper as these people call it."

"We call it supper, too," they both said.

Bobby continued, "You took a couple of Southern girls with you, remember?"

"All right, supper it is. Now let's see if we can find that living room and kitchen."

Bobby smiled up at him. "We know where it is, Silly. That's where we made your sandwiches. Come on."



-------

Chapter 140

As Art, Sandra and Bobby looked into the living room, they saw Jeff and the General sitting by the window. "I'll talk to Jeff while you two help with supper," Art said, quickly kissing the nurses and walking over to greet the men.

Sandra and Bobby went on to the kitchen, opened the door and suddenly stopped to stare at the activity. The women weaved by one another, chatting and laughing. The clatter of cookware and the whir of kitchen machinery added to the seeming chaos, but it only took a moment for the nurses to realize that what appeared to be confusion was instead extreme coordination. "Wow," both whispered as they wondered if they could ever learn to assist. Diana quickly walked up to them. "Don't be intimidated; if you've come to help, you'll catch on quickly."

"Gosh, we hope so," Sandra answered for them. "Everyone looks so busy. Uh, after supper, could we talk to you? Art, Bobby and I want to be married like you guys."

"That's great," Diana said. "We'll have a nice chat after our meal."

Arlene had walked over and heard. "Go, Mom. There are certainly plenty of us to get supper on the steam table. Go sit and have your chat now. We'll take care of this."

"I don't..."

"Mom," Arlene said, her hands on her hips, pretending to be mad, "You're the Queen. Queens don't cook."

"You're a Queen, too, and you're cooking," Diana said, while pretending to swat at Arlene's butt, but she danced out of the way, laughing, her braless breasts bouncing. Turning back to the nurses, "We'll go find a place to sit where it's quiet, but let's take a glass of iced tea with us, unless you would prefer something else," she said, reaching for glasses.

Soon the three were seated in the hallway alcove where Diana and Jeff had their discussion earlier.

The nurses seemed to almost have to tear their eyes away from the snow-covered scene out the window, but Bobby spoke up, "It's startling to look out there and see mountains and all that snow. We were in Georgia and then that ... ship just ... did its magic and we were here. It seems unreal. One day, we're nurses doing our jobs, then there's a gun battle a block from our house, then we're hiding here to avoid being killed."

Diana got up to hug both of them for a moment. Reseating herself, she smiled at them. "I know it must be hard and you're doubtlessly stressed, but things will improve. We'll get to know each other. I'm sure there are many things to discuss. It's going to be so interesting to hear about your lives — your careers. You haven't had a chance to meet Caitlin yet. She's also a nurse and works locally."

The nurses glanced at each other before Sandra asked, "Uh, we heard someone say something about the girl Art rescued from the slavers living with you? Is she here?"

"Yes, she's here," Diana said, hoping the nurses would drop the subject.

"We saw someone in the hall that we didn't recognize, and she took one look in our direction and almost ran the other way. Was that her?"

Diana stopped to choose her words. "You've been introduced to everyone else, so it had to have been her. I don't want to go deeper into that subject right now. So, let's just say that things should be much better shortly. At least I hope so, because it was my idea. Now why are we out here having this conversation?" the Queen said, obviously changing the subject.

Sandra and Bobby joined hands, and Bobby said, "We want to marry our man, and we want to have a relationship like you and your husband have, with all of you, we mean."

"I'm married to my husband, but also to all of my sister-wives. Is that what you're referring to?"

"Yes," they both said.

"When?"

"As soon as possible," they both responded.

"Then you can select your dresses on our favorite dress shop's web page, and we can call in your measurements to expedite things, if that's alright with the two of you. Unless you would rather have another shop make them, of course."

"Are you kidding?" Sandra laughed. "We know approximately where we are, and the snow-covered mountains are pretty. That's absolutely all we know about this area. If you say you like the dress shop, it's fine with us. But we have another far more serious problem."

"We can't get..." Bobby started

" ... to our money," Sandra finished.

Diana chuckled, then burst out laughing. The nurses looked at each other, then back at Diana. "Oh, Jeff is going to love this," the Queen said.

"Whaaatt..." the nurses said, apparently unaware of what had happened.

"Do you finish each other's sentences very often?"

After a glance at each other, Bobby answered. "We've always done it to some extent, but it seems like we're doing it more lately. Sometimes, we don't even notice we're doing it."

"Arlene and I have done it since she was a little girl, and now we sometimes have to force ourselves to not do it. I think it's somehow associated with being an Alpha's mate. We tease our husband by doing what the two of you just did. Particularly our younger wives do. They really get a kick out of teasing Jeff, even more when they, well we, chain speak to him."

"Chain speak?" Sandra asked.

"Yeah. Each of us says one word of the sentence."

"Oh, my gosh. You guys..."

"Do..."

"That..."

"Too?" they alternated, then giggled.

"Oh, we're going to get along just fine," Diana laughed. "Now let's discuss whatever you two are worried about, and somehow I don't think it's shopping for wedding dresses."

Bobby took a big sip of her tea to try and settle her nerves. "This is embarrassing, but after what's happened ... Uh, Sandra and I have worked extra shifts and spent most of the money on our home near Atlanta, but we've always put some money in our savings account since our first payday. We've been frugal with our paydays, other than the money we spent on the house."

"But we can't get to it," Sandra picked up. "The FBI has held Art's salary for over a year while he was undercover, but if they transfer the money to his account and he tries to use it, it could be traced to him. Art is also leery about trying to contact his supervisors in Atlanta. Somehow, we have to have access to our money. But if we can't, we told Art we didn't have to have wedding dresses or rings now. We could buy the rings later..."

But Diana was shaking her head. "Not in my house will you be married without a pretty wedding dress of your choice, and certainly there must be rings."

"But we can't..."

"Let Jeff and the General take care of your gaining access to the money. But that's not really important at the moment."

"But we have to..." Bobby started.

Diana was shaking her head as she said, "Just stay here for a few minutes. I have to get something, but I'll be right back."

When Diana had hurried away, "I wonder what she is doing?" Sandra said.

Bobby shrugged. "No idea, but it looks like she has a plan."

-------

In a few minutes, Diana was back with her laptop. "Come on. Follow me," she said. A little way down the hall, she turned into a conference room just as Arlene and Ann caught up with them. Arlene had measuring tapes, pens and small pads with her.

"Start measuring them while I connect to the website," Diana said to her sister-wives as the Queen chose a seat and booted her computer. While the computer did its thing, she picked up a phone and dialed a number from memory. "Maybe she's still there," she said to no one in particular.

A woman answered the phone and Diana smiled. "May I speak with Dana?" There was a pause, then, "This is Diana Matthews." After greetings, and telling Dana that she was on speaker, "I have two young women who need wedding dresses. They'll be shopping on your website in a few moments. Usual procedure if you can get the dresses ready for a fitting here on Sunday afternoon." Dana knew that Diana meant a bonus was involved.

"Diana you know we will have them ready for you. I was fighting to keep my head above water the first time you walked into my shop. As I said the other day, my business is now solid and even with extra employees, we have more work than we can complete without overtime. Trust me, that's a nice problem to have, and my girls love the extra money. All of this is possible because of the business you and the Wainwrights have sent our way. We have shipped numerous dresses out of state, and wealthy people from all over have been flying in to buy from me. Just enter the measurements into the order forms, have them choose the dresses they want, and we'll do the rest. What time Sunday afternoon? And to reiterate, your orders are always next."

"Thank you Dana. We certainly appreciate that. How about two Sunday afternoon?"

"We'll be there."

When Diana disconnected, "But how will we pay for the..." Bobby started.

"Don't worry about that," Diana said. "Just use your first names on the order form. We'll settle about the money when you manage to get access to your funds."

"Diana we can't..."

Diana hugged them. "We're not going to screw around waiting on your money. Now please don't hurt my feelings. It's a done deal."

Ann measured Bobby while Arlene did the same to Sandra, then the two girls swapped to double check that everything was correct. "Your measurements are darn near identical," Ann said as they reviewed their work.

The nurses did their usual thing as they glanced at each other. "We've never been measured with this much detail," Sandra said.

"Dana taught us," Arlene answered, "and we've had a lot of practice lately."

"And they're delivering the dresses to be fitted here?" Bobby asked. "That must cost a ton of money." While she had been talking, she glanced at the computer, her mind focusing on the prices of the dresses. "Oh, my goodness. Call her back, please, Diana. We don't have that kind of money. We're just nurses, we can't afford any of these dresses, even if we manage to somehow gain access to our account."

Diana managed to hug both of the nurses at the same time. "Hush. You're soon to be the wives of an Alpha. My husband is a Prime. An Alpha of Alphas. What is ours is yours. I'm sure my husband is telling your mate the same thing as we speak."

"But ... but, Diana, those dresses are so expensive. We can't..."

Diana pushed a credit card into Bobby's hand, then did the same to Sandra. "That man of yours needs a wardrobe. Although, come to think of it, you might not want to buy him too many items for a while. With his enhancement, he's going to grow at least a couple of inches, and his body, although already nice from what I can see of it, will fill out and muscle up more in the near future. But don't be stingy with your purchases, either. Anything that no longer fits can go to a church we know about. The preacher and his wife helped with Carla and Jessica's harvest."

"Which dress?" Arlene asked.

"That one," the nurses said in unison. Then they saw the price, and it was more than the one they had previously noticed.

"Wait. Oh, my goodness, it's too..."

But Arlene was entering the information from their measurements sheet and paying no attention.

"We need ring sizes," Diana interrupted. "We buy all our rings from one place." She picked up a ring sizer that Ann had brought in. "Hold out your left hand, Sandra. Let's get your size first. When Arlene and Ann finish entering your measurements," Diana continued, "we'll go to the jeweler's website and let you see if you can find rings you like. Maybe we need to get Art in here for his input and measurements; we need his ring size, too."

"Yeah," Bobby said. "We need to ask him about the rings. We don't know what he would like, but I think we should get a simple gold band like you're wearing." Sandra nodded her head in agreement. "We want to wear the rings for what they represent, not for decoration."

-------

A little while after supper, Jeff came jogging back from the Ship. Diana was waiting for him just inside the rear door that opened to the inside garage. He was smiling as his Queen hugged herself to his right arm and looked into his face as they started down the hall.

"Obviously, she agreed," Diana said.

Jeff put an arm around her as they walked. "Yep, but there's a caveat."

Diana squeezed his arm.

"The Ship isn't certain it will work, but she is certain she can reverse anything she does in Hope's brain, and ... that the changes will not decrease her abilities in any manner, nor affect her personality, etc. Nothing."

"Are you sure? I mean; it seems like she should know..."

Jeff stopped to look down at his wife. Lost in her eyes, he kissed her. "Remember, Baby, she's alien. She's never tried this on a human brain before. Heck, she's never tried this period. But she can map out Hope's brain in a few minutes. She knows she can put everything back as it was. I become part of her when I take that command couch. I can see what she intends to do. Certainly, I know little about the human brain, but I understand the Ship's logic, I guess you could call it. More than see it — feel it, become part of it. I trust her absolutely. Hope won't be in any danger, but I won't do this unless she understands and totally agrees. If she doesn't agree, I'll talk to Art..."

" ... and we'll continue to provide Hope's meals in her suite," Diana finished for him.

-------

Jeff, Diana and Arlene sat in the sitting room of Hope's suite. Hope had pulled the coffee table almost against the couch and her sock-covered feet were propped on the table with her knees drawn up. She had a big book lying on her thighs to act as a makeshift desk with several sheets of plain white paper on top of it. The Matthews chatted with her for a while so that she would be at ease when they brought up the subject they had come to discuss.

Jeff deliberately maintained his distance from the girl as she sat there, but she didn't seem to be overly bothered by his presence. Maybe it is just Art who is the catalyst of her overwhelming memories,  he thought as he listened to the women talk.

Diana, Jeff and Arlene had all assumed that Hope was doodling aimlessly, because the slant of her legs prevented her activity from being readily visible to them.

When Diana mentioned that the Ship could possibly help Hope, the teenager sat up and dropped her feet back to the floor as she listened, the position change exposing the doodled image.

"Oh, my gosh. Look," Arlene burst out, obviously staring at the paper Hope had in front of her.

Diana's and Jeff's gazes also locked on the paper. "My goodness," Diana whispered.

"No shit," Jeff very quietly agreed as they stared at the inverted sketch.

"What..." the teenager said. "Oh, I hope you don't mind, Jeff. I wasn't even thinking; I was just doodling. I shouldn't have sketched you without asking."

Jeff stood and almost snatched the paper, but stopped, realizing that he might startle her. "Uh, do you mind if I look at it?"

"Of course not," Hope said, shoving the top piece of paper to him. "I'm sorry if I..."

But the others weren't paying any attention to what she was saying. Arlene and Diana quickly stood next to Jeff to better see the sketch. Diana looked at her husband, "It's hard to believe she did that. It's like looking at a photograph. And she did it while we were talking."

"This is beautiful," Arlene whispered, obviously enthralled.

The Prime looked Hope straight in the eye. "Could you do that with colored chalks or colored pencils?"

Hope smiled at him. "Suurrre," she answered, drawing out the word, "but I don't have any with me. What little I had is at the old house."

Diana, taking the sketch, looked at her husband. "No matter where we order the supplies from, there's no way they can be overnighted this late..."

As Diana's voice trailed off, Arlene sucked in a breath. "Mom! There's an art supply store in Winter Park. It's on the same street as the small clothing shop we visit sometimes."

"That's right. I remember now. They are bound to have whatever Hope needs for sketching."

"We can send Security after what she needs," Jeff offered.

"No," Diana and Arlene said as one.

Following their conversation, Hope darted glances back and forth from Jeff to the women."

"Hope needs to go," Diana continued. "Arlene and I will go with her. We'll make certain she has everything she needs."

Jeff took that to mean the store's stock would be greatly diminished when Diana left, but he certainly didn't care. "Do it first thing in the morning, Baby. If we can get the other accomplished with the Ship, and it works, we can get the sketches done by a true professional, if she is willing to help us, of course," Jeff said as he turned back to the teenager.

"We need some sketches made. Would you help us?" he addressed Hope.

"Sure, but what are you talking about? What kind of sketches do you mean? I'm not sure what you need, but you must understand that I'm no ... professional. The only 'training' I've had is a couple of how-to books that I borrowed from the library. I've never taken a class or anything, although I've wanted to. I just do what feels right."

"She doesn't need any training," Jeff said, motioning to the sketch Diana was holding. "And she did that on plain copy paper."

Diana handed the sketch back to Jeff and pulled the coffee table away from the couch in order to hug Hope. Then holding the girl at arms' length, "Baby, training or not, you have an amazing talent. Do you just like to draw?"

"Uh, yeah. A lot. I've always done it when I was bored, upset or worried. My father would never buy me what I needed to try oils, or much of anything else, but chalk and pencils work fine with plain copy paper. They're cheap, so that's what I've always used. Why? What's the big deal?"

A look passed between the Queen and her daughter. Jeff noticed and knew that Diana and Arlene would make sure that anything Hope had the slightest interest in at the art supply place would come home with them.

"It's about supper time, we'll talk about this later," Diana said, not wanting to mention Art just yet. They sat down and Diana continued, "Baby, we would like you to consider something. We think it would make your life a lot easier."

As the women talked, Jeff stared at the picture. How can she do that? he thought. Seeing this sketch is like looking at myself in a mirror. A black and white mirror. I'd like to see what she could do in color. She has a fabulous talent. And she did the sketch in five minutes while talking to us. I thought she was just doodling. If we can take care of the memories that are terrorizing her, and we can talk her into sketching the people Art describes, there should be some amazing sketches of the people he saw while he worked for the slavers. Those FBI agents will be ecstatic.

Jeff's thinking was interrupted when Diana touched his arm. "Baby, didn't you say something about checking on the weather for tomorrow?"

He almost answered in the negative before he saw the look. It was one of those, run-along-children-because-the-women-need-to-talk looks.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I can do that," he said, getting to his feet and handing the sketch to Diana.

Arlene didn't have to giggle, he thought as he told Hope he would see her later, and hurried out of the suite.

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff was talking with Dave in the living room when Diana, Arlene, Helen and Hope walked in. "We're ready, Husband."

"Ready? But I thought we were going to the art shop in the morn..." But then he caught his mate's nod toward the back of the Retreat and realized what she meant. How did she convince Hope so quickly? "Sure. Let's do it," he said, coming to his feet.

Looking back at Dave, "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

Dave waved a hand. "No problem."

They walked on down the hall, Arlene on one side of Hope, and Diana on the other, with Jeff and Helen following. Hope was wearing a coat, but the others had to stop near the garage door to don theirs. "It's snowing like crazy," Diana said, looking at Jeff. "I know it isn't far, but let's take an Escalade, anyway."

The Escalade wasn't warmed up, but neither was it very cold since the vehicle was in the inside garage. Jeff would have walked or jogged, but he knew that Diana was thinking of Hope, who had little experience with the cold. The snow swirled around the Escalade, reflecting the headlights. The security lights — the ones close enough to be seen through the heavy snowfall — were balls of light in a swirl of white. A couple of moments later, they stopped at the end of the cleared area as a ramp descended from the invisible ship.

Out of the vehicle, Diana and Arlene took Hope's hands as they all hurried to the ramp, then quickly on inside. As they stepped through the hatch field, the sound of the wind was abruptly cut off, and their clothing was free of snow. A healing chamber awaited them as Hope tentatively looked around.

"This is a spaceship?" Hope said, "This just looks like a big room. And I suppose that's..."

"A healing chamber like the one that saved my life," Arlene supplied for Hope.

"It just saved the life of one of my people," Jeff offered, "and a couple of years ago, a chamber saved my life when I was shot by a sniper. It will not hurt you. I give you my word," the Prime finished, putting a hand on her shoulder for a second as he looked her in the eye.

"I believe you," the girl said, but suddenly turned to hug Diana and Helen. "I don't want to be this way. I don't want to be afraid of men, particularly that FBI agent, uh Art, who saved me that night, but..."

"If you're not ready..." Jeff started.

"Oh, I'm more than ready," Hope responded, her voice firming. "I'm sick of being afraid. I want to forget what's happened to me."

"Baby, it won't erase your memories; it will just make it seem as if it happened years ago. You can remember if you want to, but it won't seem like something that happened yesterday."

Hope slipped her coat off and tossed it on one of the wall benches. "What do I do?"

"Just lie in there," Arlene said, motioning.

"We'll be right here," the Queen said, pointing to a low bench that had just grown from the floor.

Jeff stood back as Diana and Helen hovered over Hope. Lying down, she smiled up at them for a moment as the mists formed over her. In seconds, the shield took its place over the chamber.

Jeff had already shed his coat, his wives following suit. "Now what?" Helen asked.

Jeff shrugged, "Just relax. This will probably take a while. Arlene and I will be on the bridge."

"Me, Dad? I've never been there. From what I hear, I'm not certain..."

"The Ship just asked for you specifically."

"Oh," she said, wondering, then, "Kayla is a bit, uh..."

"Anyone in his or her right mind will be ... overwhelmed to some degree by her mind."

"I'm not afraid, Dad," Arlene answered as they walked down the passageway, "Come to think of it, I would like to talk to her about what happened to me when I died."

"I don't think you died, my Wife. Little One put both you, well you and herself, in a state of suspended animation to keep you from dying until we could get you in the chamber. I think you came close, but..."

"You weren't there, Daddy. I was."

Knowing he wasn't going to win this one, Jeff shut up.

On the bridge, Jeff took his daughter's hand. "Lie back and relax. She's never asked for someone to lie on that couch before."

Arlene stood looking at the command couches. They look a little like our recliners in the living room, but they're wider and deeper. Odd how they seem to be ... not quite here. It's hard for my eyes to focus on them. Oh, well, she did ask for me.

Arlene looked once more at her father. "Here goes, Daddy," and sank into her couch, her grip on Jeff's hand still tight. The couch cocooned itself around her.



-------

Chapter 141


Later, a subdued and thoughtful Arlene walked beside her father as they made their way along the passageway. When they entered the room with the healing chamber, Diana took one look at her daughter, came over and hugged her. "Are you okay?"

Arlene let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah. Just something to contemplate. I'll talk to you later." Looking over at the healing chamber, she continued, "The procedure with Hope is complete. The Ship thinks she has accomplished what Hope needs."

Diana cast a quick glance at Jeff, who nodded with a grin just touching his lips, even as the shield over the chamber ceased to exist and the mist cleared.

Helen reached in to take the teenager's hand as she sat up, "Let me help you."

As Hope stepped out of the chamber with a look of wonder on her face, she haltingly said, "I met the nicest lady. We had a long talk about ... Uh, that's funny. I can't seem to remember exactly what we talked about, but I remember it was very pleasant. But I think..." She hesitated for a moment as she thought. "Oh, I seem to remember talking about what my father made me do. I think we discussed that awful night in that motel room." As everyone tensed, she went on, "That was so gross, but at least my father can't make me do those bad things anymore. Oh, well, that's all in the past, anyway, and I don't need to worry about any of that anymore."

Diana and Helen exchanged questioning glances, and the women took turns hugging Hope. "Why is everyone looking so worried?" the teenager said, stepping back to look at them. "I'm fine. All that bad stuff is behind me, and ... for some reason I'm really hungry," she finished as she focused on Diana. "Would it be okay if I stopped by the kitchen to get a snack?"

Diana laughed and hugged Hope again. "You know you can have anything you want, and you better know you don't have to ask," she teased.

After quickly donning their coats, they started out. Just before the weather barrier, Diana, walking last with Jeff, turned to look back inside. "Thank you," the Queen said, addressing the Ship.

The Prime smiled at his wife. "She says, 'You're welcome.'"

Hope and Arlene had run down the ramp and were already in the vehicle when the others got there, Arlene driving of course, with Hope sitting in the front with her. As they quickly closed the doors against the wind-driven snow, Diana looked over at Jeff. "She can produce healing chambers and things to sit on; why haven't you taught her to prepare food for us?"

Helen stifled a giggle. Diana's question had a slight bantering tone to go with the good mood of the moment, but there was also a tone of seriousness in it as well. Jeff chuckled, "Well, she can produce all the emergency rations you would ever want. But we were very hungry and on half-rations before we, or rather I, found out how to accomplish that. The only thing we had with us for food samples was our rations. Other than rations, she is able to produce only food that the race that built her ate, or eats as the case may be, if they still exist. I don't think we're compatible, food-wise, and ... I haven't had time to introduce our food to her."

"So what do we need to do?"

"Uh, I guess just prepare something and have her ... analyze it. She'll be able to reproduce it from then on."

"Jeffrey Matthews, we had food brought out here for Bobby and Sandra while you and Kayla went to your team's breakfast. If you had..."

"I didn't think about it, Babe," he quickly said, hearing Arlene giggling from the front as she put the Escalade into gear and turned them toward the Retreat.

"Men," Diana said with a little grin, just before Jeff reached over and kissed her hard.

"Jefmmff," she tried to talk around the kiss. Aware of Hope in the front seat, the Prime carefully let the tiniest amount of pheromones go as Diana giggled into the kiss. Putting her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with fervor. When they broke the kiss, she looked at him, "That wasn't fair," but there was a near purr as she leaned against him.

"Didn't mean for it to be," he teased her back. "Beats the heck out of getting my ass chewed, though."

"You're going to pay for that later tonight," she whispered into his ear.

"Oh, I'm scared," he whispered back, chuckling.

-------

As the group strolled down the hall, Jeff said, "Oh, by the way, the General mentioned that he, Barbara and Ellen wanted us to marry them. Frank said he and his women are ready, also. And I've already said that we would marry Fred and his women. So the General and I agreed that it shouldn't be any problem to do them all at the same time..."

"What?" Diana said as she suddenly stopped and spun to look at him. "You did what?"

By this time, Helen and Arlene had joined in the stare-at-my-mate theme.

"Well," Jeff got out, not understanding why the women suddenly seemed so upset, "uh ... I assumed that you would want to marry them. I don't see..."

"Oh, I think the weddings are an excellent idea. Wed-dings, as in plural. So let me get this straight. You and the General decided that it would be logical to have one mass wedding?"

"Well, we thought ... Uh, subject to your approval, of course..."

"Somebody's going to sleep on the couch tonight," Arlene said very quietly and in a singsong voice.

"Have you discussed this with anyone else?" Diana sweetly asked — too sweetly.

"Uh, no. It started with Fred. He said Carla would call you. They're going to see about dresses and rings, then get back with you."

"I need to go talk to Barbara and Ellen right now." Turning to the others, "Arlene, would you please see that Hope gets food? Then come join us. Helen, would you come with me please?"

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff met the General in the hall. "Women," Whitworth snorted. "Seemed like a good idea to me."

"Hell, I thought they would like it," Jeff agreed.

Frank came wandering down the hall, his hair sticking up erratically. "What the fuck happened? I was taking a nap on the couch when a bunch of wives woke me, and I was invited to get the hell out for a while. What stirred them up?"

Jeff and the General looked at each other, both trying desperately to keep guilty looks off their faces. "Uh, since you're out here, want to go to the range and bust a few caps? I got in some 'bad guy' targets the other day. Might be fun to fire a few rounds at them?"

"What the fuck happened?" Frank demanded, looking at first Jeff, then Whitworth.

"We, uh, made a logical suggestion. Hell, it seemed logical to me," Jeff defended.

"What suggestion could possibly stir them up like ... Let's consider now. You used logic in regard to weddings?" Wainwright said.

Jeff looked a bit guilty despite himself, "Yeah, we kinda agreed that we could have all the weddings at the same time. You and your women, the General and his women, Fred and his women, and Art and his women — all at once."

"And that's all? You didn't do anything else to stir them up?"

Both men were shaking their heads. "Still, it must be something else," Wainwright agreed. "Couldn't have been that. That's not a bad idea. We would always remember a big wedding like that." Frank looked back down the hall, obviously wondering what was going on. Shrugging, "Come on; let's go shoot a few rounds. Out of sight, out of mind."

"Let's stop by and get Dave..." Jeff started just seconds before Dave came hurrying out of his apartment.

"What the fuck?" he said.

Jeff looked at his buddy, "It's better if you don't even know. You can disavow all knowledge of the crime. Come on, we're going to the range for a couple of hours."

"Fuck yeah," Dave said, "I'm with you." Then to no one in particular, "Little One took care of their periods, but does a woman still have PMS if she doesn't have a period anymore?"

None of the men knew, and they weren't going to risk logic right now.

"Should we check on Bill? He might want to go with us?" Jeff asked.

"I doubt it," Frank offered. "He was going back to his suite to take a nap just as I was. Maybe he missed out on ... whatever the fuck this is. But what about Art? Should we ask him if he wants to shoot? We don't want to overlook him."

Jeff thought for a second. "He was up all night. With the healing and everything that's happened, he's probably asleep by now."

"Or playing with his new mates," Dave offered.

"Or playing with his new mates," Jeff agreed.

-------

Unaware that anything was happening, Sandra, Bobby and Art were sitting on their couch with a new laptop on the coffee table in front of them. They had just finished ordering Art a wardrobe to "get him by" until his growth spurt was over.

"I still can't believe I'm going to grow a couple of inches," he said as he absently rubbed Bobby's back while she did a search on the computer.

"Diana and Jeff both say you will, and all the food you're eating is bound to go somewhere," Sandra said. "They assured us that none of us will get fat. And with all that's happened, we might as well believe what they tell us until they're proven wrong."

Art focused on the computer screen as Bobby paged through sexy costumes. "Why are we looking at Halloween costumes?" He had already begun to dread the answer.

"It's almost Halloween, silly."

"But we're adults..."

Tapping the screen with a fingernail, "Do these look like children's costumes?" his wife-to-be asked?

"Uh, nooo, but where are you going to wear..."

"Here," both women said.

Bobby continued with, "Diana told us they were going to take Selina to a haunted house, then to a church trunk-or-treat. After Selina's in bed, we're going to have an adult Halloween party."

Art was doubtful. "I don't know. We hardly know these people. Maybe we need to skip things for now."

Both women turned to look at him as Sandra said, "They have bought wedding dresses, rings for all of us, plus a tux and a wardrobe for you, not to mention healing you and enhancing all of us. And they came to save our lives. We can't not go to their party."

Bobby smirked at him, "Are you worried about your women straying?"

"What? Of course not."

"So, check out the screen and help us pick out costumes."

Art sat up straighter and stared at the screen. "That cat suit is painted on," he said, aghast. "Look at her nipples. No way is that ... that... outfit going to be on either of you."

"Oh, but it's neat," Sandra said just to tease her mate. "Look, she has a row of fake nipples down her belly like a real cat. That cat mask makes her look real, and those cat ears are so cute. I don't see how the tail attaches, though."

Bobby took up the description, "Besides, there's an optional thong that glues on to cover most of our vulvas, should we be modest."

"'Modest, '" he croaked out. "You wouldn't have anything on your breasts except paint, and that thing is even worse than being totally nude. It accents the model's breasts. That one tiny little 'optional' patch is the only difference from being totally naked."

The women ignored him. Bobby clicked on the men's page. "Ohooo, look at the tomcat."

"Isn't he cute?" both women said in unison.

"The man's costume has an optional piece that glues on over his package," Bobby said, reading from the site.

"It glues on?" Art managed to get out; major worried now. "Hell, you can still see everything he has."

"Uh, and it looks like he has a lot," Bobby teased.

"Not as much as our man," Sandra added, as both nurses giggled.

Much to Arts relief, there was a knock on the suite door. He quickly got up and opened it. Arlene looked past him to the nurses. "The women are having a meeting about the weddings. We need your input."

As the women hurried out, Arlene leaned back in the door. "The guys are on the inside range." Pointing, "Down the hall, take the stairs to the basement, turn right and keep walking."

-------

Art opened the door to the range, and the men ceased firing, all looking to see who walked in. "Ear and eye protection on the rack there," Jeff motioned as he called out to Art. The men safed their weapons, each putting his weapon on the shooting station shelf beside him, and hit the target return for his station.

Dave, Frank and Whitworth checked their targets, but Jeff turned and took the few steps to greet Art. "We would have invited you, but we were afraid we would wake you, considering that you were up all night last night."

"You were, too," the "baby" agent pointed out.

"Oh, I caught a nap this afternoon," Jeff said, not telling him it was only an hour, nor mentioning that he needed very little sleep.

Art was obviously looking around. "This is a beautifully set up range, and I couldn't hear a thing until I opened the door. You have some darned good sound insulation."

"Here's the guy who built it," Jeff said, nodding to Dave.

Dave chuckled. "Not very hard to build a nice range when the owner buys the best bullet recovery system made, plus handing me a virtual blank check with the only instruction being the number of firing stations he wanted."

"And you're..."

"My project manager," Jeff offered, "though the title isn't descriptive enough. He's also the owner of the company that built the Retreat."

Art looked a bit embarrassed. "Sorry, I remember your name, but with all the introductions, I let your title slip my mind."

Dave chuckled, and with a twinkle in his eyes, "Don't let the title fool you. Evie and I just get things done."

"And like the rest of us, gets the hell away from his women when they have their panties in a knot," Frank offered.

Art locked eyes with Jeff. "I'm told, well ... Jeff, uh, Bobby, Sandra and I would like for you and your ... Queen to marry us."

"Diana and I will certainly be glad to marry you. Uh ... the women will let us know the rest of 'our' plans. Are your women with ours, or did you leave them in your suite?"

"No, they went with Arlene. She said something about needing their input about weddings."

Bill came wandering in. "Did you get involved in this thing, too?" Jeff asked.

Bill looked blank for a second. "Kathy answered the phone, said a couple of words I didn't catch, then told Jill to come with her. I walked down the hall behind them and saw them go into one of the conference rooms, so I thought I would see what was going on. I opened the door and everyone in the room turned and frowned at me. Arlene was the only one who spoke, and she said you were on the range. I said, 'excuse me, ' stepped back out and quietly closed the door."

Jeff put his hand on Bill's shoulder for a moment, "Trust me; that was the best decision you made all day. Sorry I didn't warn you in time. I guess all of us were in the duck and cover mode."

"But what..."

Jeff grinned at Art and Bill. "Best you not even know what set them off, but they're planning weddings now. They'll tell us what they think we need to know." Changing the subject none too subtly, "Wanna bust a cap or two? We figure about two hours down here will be just about right."

"Well, Sandra and Bobby don't know where I am..." Art started.

"Wrong," Dave said. "If your women haven't picked up the talent yet, there are plenty of others in that conference room who know where their men are. They'll assume you're with us."

"Now what do you want to shoot?" Jeff asked.

Art had his pistol pushed under his belt in the back. "I brought my duty weapon — .40 cal Glock."

"Art, you're one of us now, and I mean that. I just got in a new shipment of ammo, so don't be bashful with it. I didn't have this range built to conserve ammunition. The ammo in the shelves there is just a drop in the bucket. The rest is stored in the ammo room over there," Jeff said, pointing out the door of the range. "When you run low, the hand truck is there," he said, motioning. "Bring a few more cases over and shoot all you want. You don't need me to come down here with you, and you don't have to ask."

Jeff was staring him in the eye, so Art knew Jeff was serious. "Thanks, I appreciate that. I love to shoot, and by what they say, so do Bobby and Sandra."

Art turned to look at the targets that had been brought back by the trolleys. He realized that Frank's and Dave's patterns were just so-so, but the General's pattern was excellent. At first glance, Jeff's rounds seemed to be all over the target, but as Art began to wonder, Frank saw where Art was looking. "He's not shooting for the center of the target, other than the one time there," Frank said pointing, "where he took out the 'X' in the center. He was shooting numbers."

"'Numbers?' Art said, wondering for a second what Frank meant. Then realization struck. Oh, shit,  Art thought, he's shooting at the little numbers that define the rings on the B-27 target. Shit, he was shooting from twenty-five yards at something I can't even see from that distance.

Jeff had seemed to wander off to stand looking into the big gun case, but in reality, he knew that his Alphas would make a big thing out of his shooting the numbers, and he didn't want to be around to hear it.

"Colonel, bring your rig over and shoot some with your single action for agent Hanes," Whitworth said.

Jeff turned to glare at the General.

"Don't act all put upon," Whitworth said. "The man needs to know."

"Know what?" Art said, looking first at Jeff, then the General.

"You need to get a feeling for what a Prime is," Whitworth said. Then turning back to Jeff, "Colonel!"

"Ah, fuck it," Jeff muttered too quietly for the others to hear. He strapped on the western rig and walked back over to them. Dave had already taken Jeff's old target down, snapped a new one on the trolley and sent it down range.

Jeff loaded the single action, as Art looked on. He's going to quick draw at twenty-five yards. He won't come anywhere near the target.

"Ears! Eyes! The line is hot!" (Ear protection on. Eye protection on.)

There was a blur and a roar. Jeff flipped the loading gate open and began ejecting empty shell casings — six of them. Dave slapped the return button and the target came back. The "X" was gone and there were five more holes circling where the "X" used to be. All five holes were perfectly spaced to form a small circle around the center hole that had destroyed the "X."

General Whitworth grinned at Art. "If he had put them all through the same hole, you never would have believed that all the rounds went there, so he spaced them around the middle so you could easily see that they all hit."

Art stood staring at the target. He knew it was real. I watched a pristine target go downrange, but I heard only one shot — well roar. I was watching his hand when he drew, well, at least I think he drew. How in the fuck can anyone be that fast?

As if the General had read Art's mind, "I never knew what a Prime was until I pissed him off and he faced me down in my own office."

"This is embarrassing," Jeff said. "I'm standing right here,  guys."

"No wonder you went through that mercenary unit in just a few minutes. Can all your people shoot like that?" Art asked Jeff.

Even though Art had asked Jeff, the General answered. "No. None of them are in his class, but they are the best of the best from all the off-world teams. They fire their own courses. The firing courses we use for our other troops are too easy for Colonel Matthews' team."

Jeff unbuckled his rig and went over to sit at the big table with its padded top, and began cleaning his weapon. As Art stood looking at him, General Whitworth put his hand on the young agent's shoulder, and speaking quietly said, "Son, don't even bother to think about it. You can compete with us Alphas, but there's no use trying to compete with him. He was incredible two years ago, now there isn't anything to describe him. Just thank God, he's on our side."

-------

Billy came strutting up the hall, his teeth clamped to the small mesh ball, making it look as if it were stuck to the corner of his mouth, its bell faintly jingling. "Mmmeeeooww," he said brightly as he pranced into the living room.

"Well, hey, Little Dude," Jeff laughed. "What brings you out?"

Selina, leading the parade of wives, marched into the living room in time to hear Jeff's comment. When she saw Billy, she slammed to a halt, her hands on her hips. "How did you escape?" she demanded of her kitten.

"Meow," he answered.

Jeff smiled at the little genius. "Probably jumped from a table to the door handle like he did last time."

"That is not possible," Selina insisted. "I placed him in his kennel and secured a bread wrapper tie around the lock to prevent Billy from disengaging it. Prior to exiting the suite, I ascertained that all objects were quite distant from the doors. It is impossible that Billy escaped from the kennel and suite alone. It would require assistance for him to accomplish egress," she finished, her gaze falling on Jeff.

"It wasn't me. It wasn't any of us. We've been on the range. I promise you that none of us had anything to do with Billy being here."

Billy, noticing the big snowflakes swirling against the lighted window, dropped his ball and rushed over, putting his nose against the glass. "Mmmeeeooww?"

"That's snow. The stuff you were almost frozen to death in," Jeff said, leaning over to ruffle the kitten's fur. Billy didn't pay him any attention, but reached up to slap a paw against the window as a flake stuck there in front of his face. That set off a flurry of attempts to catch a flake.

Diana walked over, leaned down and kissed her mate hard on the mouth. "We fixed it," she said loudly enough for all the men to hear. "We start off Monday night with Art, Sandra and Bobby."

"That sounds good," Jeff carefully said. "I like that."

"I thought you would," his Queen replied with only a little sarcasm.

"His presence here is impossible," Selina reiterated, obviously upset that no one appeared to be listening to her.

"Honey, you probably forgot to put him in the kennel."

Selina turned to stare at the Queen. "I placed him in the kennel, locked it, and employed a bread wrapper tie to secure the slide lock. He was in that kennel beseeching me to release him when I exited my suite." It was evident that Selina was becoming upset that no one seemed to believe her.

"I don't know what to tell you..." Diana started.

"Please accompany me," Selina said as she reached for Diana's hand, "and I shall demonstrate the validity of my assertions."

Diana looked over her shoulder at Jeff, a question on her face as she went out the door with the six-year-old. Arlene hurried after them.

A few moments later as the three walked into Selina's bedroom, "Observe," she said, pointing. "The cage remains locked and the bread wrapper tie is intact. Billy could not possibly escape from the kennel?"

Arlene knelt by the kennel, pulling on the sides and top as she tested everything, carefully working her way around the cage. Looking up while she remained on her knees, "Mom, everything is intact. He couldn't have gotten out. Just like Selina said, the tie is even still in place. The lock hasn't been moved. Weird."

Diana looked down at Selina. "Are you sure..." but the look on Selina's face stopped the Queen. "Of course you're sure. I'm sorry. I just don't know..."

Jeff came in with Billy riding on his shoulder, the ever-present ball stuck against the outside of his mouth. "Well, did you solve the escape?" he asked, brightly.

The looks on their faces brought his good mood to a sudden halt. "Baby, maybe he wasn't in the cage after all..."

Selina whirled to face him, and the sentence died on his lips. "I am absolutely certain, I placed him in his kennel," she said, enunciating each word separately. "I observed him as I secured the lock. He was pleading with me to release him. Possibly, someone decided to play a joke on me and allowed him his freedom, then replaced the tie back to tease me. This is a large building. Without my supervision, he could create mischief or endanger himself. If this is someone's conception of a prank, I am not amused."

"Selina," Diana said as she knelt in front of the child, "no one here would do that to you."

"Then how did he achieve his freedom?" Selina asked, reasonably.

Jeff took the kitten off his shoulder and held him up to his face, momentarily touching the kitten's nose to his. Billy patted Jeff's nose with a paw as the expression of the Prime's face changed.

Diana stared at her husband. "Jeff. Do you know something we don't?" But Jeff's mind seemed to be far away.

"Jeff?" she questioned.



-------

Chapter 142


Jeff had suddenly remembered having visited Nat, Nicki and Whitney a few nights before they were married. After loving them, he had started to leave their bedroom as they slept. Suddenly, he had found himself in the hallway. At the time, I thought I somehow had a lapse of consciousness or something similar. I've driven home before and remembered little of the trip, my mind focused on a problem, and from what I hear, that's something that happens to people fairly often. I've heard guys joke about having driven home on "autopilot." We all do something like that from time to time, but somehow not remembering walking out of their suite didn't feel like a lapse caused by thinking about something else. I don't remember being worried about anything just then. Did I have a lapse of awareness as I left their bedroom? Surely that must have been what happened, but it's bugged me ever since. I can't remember walking out of their door — neither their bedroom door nor their suite door. It's as if ... No, that can't be, but how was the kitten able to get out of his kennel and through two closed doors to come prancing into the living room as if he owned the place?

If Selina says Billy was in the cage when she locked it, then he was there. Our little genius would never make a mistake like that. The bread wrapper tie, though a simple solution, would prevent Billy from reaching through the bars and sliding the lock open. There's no way that tiny kitten could unwind the twisted wire with his paws. Besides, the tie is still in place.

Billy could have gotten hurt roaming free in the Retreat. Surely there isn't anyone living here who would tease Selina like that — not to the point of endangering her kitten. All of the men were on the range. And all the women, including Hope, I think, were with Diana. But whether Hope was with the others during the wedding planning or not, she wouldn't do something like that to Selina. And ... we haven't kitten-proofed the Retreat. That's something we need to address. Billy has been enhanced by Little One. What does that mean for a kitten?

Even as he thought about Little One, he asked her to explain what she had done to the tiny cat. Willingly, almost joyfully, and obviously proud of her accomplishments with the kitten, she immediately deluged him with a massive amount of information — concepts that were so foreign to his human mind that he felt almost as if he had been hit with a physical object. Maybe I shouldn't have asked that,  he managed to think as he abruptly sank into a chair, leaned forward and held his face in his hands.

"Jeff, are you okay?" a worried Diana asked as she knelt in front of him and put her hands on his, gently pulling them back so she could see his face.

"I'm fine," he responded, trying to grin at her. "I just asked Little One too broad a question, I suppose. It's like, uh, it's similar ... maybe to being immersed in all the knowledge from a library full of medical texts — feline medical texts. Now with a few years of study I might be able to determine what she did to that kitten in those few short minutes. I might." He suddenly raised his head to stare at his wife. "I do realize one thing, though. The kitten's enhancement process is continuing,  just as ours is."

Selina, standing beside the two, stared at Jeff, but even as she opened her mouth to speak, Jeff spoke up. "No, Baby. I won't speculate yet."

Selina sucked in a breath to protest, but the Prime continued, "No. Don't push. I need to try to unscramble some of what Little One has sent me before we discuss it. I'll ask Helen to allow you to bring Billy to class with you. I think you need to keep him with you as much as possible for now. If he escaped once, he can do it again. And before you ask, I can tell you, this has nothing to do with anyone here releasing your kitten or trying to hurt him. Of that, I'm absolutely positive."

"But..."

"Selina..."

"Yes, my Prime," she finally conceded. "I shall obey." I shall be patient for now,  she added to herself.

"Thank you, Selina."

After a moment, he managed to unscramble Little One's next message, {{{ My Prime, I am eager to discuss the procedures I have used to enhance you and the other humans. }}}

Jeff gave a mental shudder, barely suppressing an audible groan. No,  he managed, weakly. Please let me try to understand what you have sent me before we discuss the other enhancements.

He heard a seemingly reluctant mental agreement from the little alien.

-------

Selina, with Billy clinging to her shoulder, stepped out into the hall with Jeff, Diana, and Arlene. A moment later, they met the General in search of Jeff. "Just received a message," Whitworth said, striding up. "There are some things I must handle at the base. My women are packing our things."

"The Ship needs to go back, too," Jeff said. "You can be at the base in a couple of minutes."

"Will she take us without you on board?"

"Sure. But you should warn the scientists to keep out of that end of the hanger."

"They know better than to be in that area in case she needs to come back, but I'll make sure, of course."

"Are you going to miss the weddings?"

"No," Whitworth replied with a grin. "My women would have my butt over that. We should be back Monday in plenty of time to see your FBI agent meet his match," he finished with a chuckle.

Jeff's wives and Selina quickly hugged the General, then hurried on ahead to wish Ellen and Barbara well.

A little later, Jeff slipped on a jacket and drove the General and his mates the short distance to the Ship. Jeff entered for a moment to give her instructions. After shaking the General's hand and hugging Ellen and Barbara, Jeff stood by the Escalade as the invisible ship accelerated to altitude. After a moment, he heard the distant sound of "thunder" as the Ship translated. Damn fine taxi service, he thought as he turned the Escalade toward home.

-------

The General and his women were back at the base. The weddings had been scheduled, although, neither Jeff nor the General had asked who was getting married when.

Art had bowed out of the costume ordering, and with only a slight cringe and a mental prayer, wisely said he would wear anything they chose for him. Sandra and Bobby grinned at each other, more to tease Art about what they were ordering, than anything else. He mentally shuddered, put on a set of earphones, turned the television on and moved to the other side of the room.

Diana, Laura, Arlene and Ann trooped in to assist with the costume ordering. Bringing up the website they had used, Diana pointed out the costumes they had ordered. Giggling, the nurses placed their order, and at Diana's insistence, overnighted it, not risking second day delivery this close to Halloween.

A little after ten, the suite was suddenly quiet as the Matthews left and Bobby shut the computer down.

As Art raised an earphone from an ear to hear them, "Bedtime," Sandra quietly said. "Time for a shower. Want to come with us, Honey?"

Art turned the TV off, put the earphones down and stood. As he looked at his two lovers, he could feel his cock beginning to swell. Oh, shit. Why did I have to run my mouth about us waiting until the wedding to have penetration? Those two looked good in scrubs, but now with a tight pullover, no bra and low-rider jeans, they're sexy as they can be. I've seen and played with their titties once, but standing in a shower with those two sexy women is going to raise the bar one hell of a lot.

The women started toward the bedroom, then turned in unison to crook a finger at him. Between the gesture, the looks on their faces, and the nipples that seemed to want to poke holes in their tops, Art was having a hard time keeping his cock from getting into the act.

He waited a bit as he concentrated on keeping the swelling from becoming a full-blown erection. Following them into the bedroom, he hesitated as he took in the trail of clothing that led to the shower area. The last items were two pink thongs by the door.

He slipped his shirt off, sat on the bed to take his shoes and socks off, then his pants. They've seen everything I have many times when I was in that hospital, and then again at their home. They even gave me a blowjob. They pulled their tops up so I could nurse their breasts, but I've never seen either of them totally nude. Why in the hell did I suddenly decide we should wait for the wedding? Well, it's scheduled for next Monday; not that far away. But they're waiting for me in the shower right now.

At the door, he dropped his shorts and looked down at his cock. It wasn't hard — yet. But it was swollen and beginning to stand out a little from his body. He could feel his pulse throb in it. Shit, my dick feels like it will go off if they even touch it. Don't make a fool out of yourself, idiot. Desperately concentrating on keeping his cock from hardening, he stepped inside the shower area. One look at the two standing side-by-side, posed as they propped against the wall, did it. His dick went to full mast in less than three seconds.

"Wow!" both women hissed out as their eyes focused on his cock obscenely sticking out from his body. Of course, they didn't think it looked obscene at all.

Art's eyes locked onto the sight before him. Giving up on controlling his dick, he thought, I have never seen two sisters that looked more alike — not even close. Hell, their bodies are virtually identical as well. I'm beginning to believe that being shot was worth it. Believe it, hell, I'm positive of it.

The sisters, following Diana's instructions, had already programmed the shower to the temperature they liked. "Us," Bobby said to activate the shower. Stepping under the spray of water, they turned back to face him. "Oops," they said as they saw the look on his face.

"Remember," Sandra added with a giggle, "you said you wanted to wait for vaginal penetration until we're married."

"I've been known to make damn fool statements on occasion," Art groused, his voice sounding almost like a growl.

Laughing, they pulled him under the showerheads. "We're going to bathe our man," they said together.

He didn't know whether they had practiced the sentence, or did it accidentally, but he did know he liked the way they sounded in their deliberately sexy voices. They didn't say they were going to start out washing my dick,  he mused as Sandra soaped her hands and gently washed it. Giggling, Bobby massaged his balls with soapy hands. Then they started discussing him as if he weren't even there.

"We did well, Sis," Bobby said. "In addition to that cock, just look at these ... balls." Giggling, she added, "Hey, we don't have to be careful to call them testicles or testes any more, hmmm. He's not our patient any longer." As she gently hefted them in her hand, she continued, "I'll bet there is enough sperm in these to impregnate a hundred women."

Sandra caught her sister's eye. "Do you think we need to continue with our birth control pills? Diana and Jeff said that Little One has stopped our eggs from maturing, but what if it happens, anyway?"

Bobby cupped a hand over her groin, then pulled upward a little, caressing the area of her womb. "Who cares?" she whispered.

"Ladies," Art gasped out, "if you continue on that subject and keep stroking my dick, I'm going to..."

"Me, this time," Bobby said as she sank to her knees. She stared at his cock for a moment, then pushed her mouth over the head. "Hmmmm," she moaned just before sucking hard.

"Baby, I..." But he forgot what he was going to say as she set up a rhythmic hard sucking while stroking him with her right hand.

A little later, ashamed of himself for not lasting, but also rationalizing that there was no use in making Bobby's neck sore, he unconsciously tensed his body. "Bobby, I'm..."

"Do it," Sandra said as she hugged herself to his side. "She wants your sperm."

Legs trembling, he felt it start deep in his balls. "Oh, shit," he managed as every nerve in his body seemed to sing. "Uhhhhh..."

Bobby made a slight choking noise before swallowing, her eyes growing big. She continued milking his cock and gently sucking until the spurts turned to a dribble and eventually stopped. The strength seemed to leave his body with his semen. He managed to turn and lean back against the wall, his dick coming out of Bobby's mouth with a popping sound. Bobby scooted over and softly licked the head of his cock, occasionally pushing her mouth back over the head to suck gently. Oh shit, now I remember them saying they had researched how to give the best blowjob. The two they have given me have put to shame any other blowjobs I've ever had. He chuckled to himself, then added, What few there have been.

Bobby slid her mouth off his dick and sat back on her heels. "What's that grin for?" she asked, smiling.

"You know damn well what it's for," he chuckled. "If you two get any better, the orgasms will kill me."

Sandra leaned in to lick each of his nipples as Bobby said, "Your cock is still up. The guy we gave our virginities to lost his erection as soon as he shot off..."

Art managed a shaky laugh. "I can't speak for him, but you two are different from the few women I've been with. I have to fight with myself to not have an erection all the time."

Sandra threw him a bath sponge. "Good. Let's finish the shower and get in bed. We've talked about doing a sixty-nine with you, now we get the chance to try it. You game, Big Boy?" she said, addressing his dick as if it could answer. Art flexed his cock and the women both giggled.

Whether it was the continued stimulus, the two nude women, one still on her knees, the other continuing to hold onto him as she pressed her breasts against his side, or the fact he had been enhanced, his erection never went down in the slightest.

As Bobby stood back up, Art pulled her to him and kissed her. "I thought men wouldn't kiss a woman after oral sex?" she said as he finally pulled back from the kiss.

"So you drink my spend, and I'm supposed to suddenly find your mouth offensive? Not likely. I'm not thrilled with tasting my own come, but I wasn't paying any attention to that little bit of taste. Not after you did that for me. That's a blowjob from each of you. Both were beyond description."

"Hah," Bobby giggled, "you were just horny."

"And what red-blooded male wouldn't be with the two of you around? I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

Sandra leaned in to gently bite his neck while the two of them caressed his cock. "Uuuuummm, we like to hear that, but Jeff has fourteen wives..."

"I have what I want right here. I'm just hoping I'm man enough to take proper care of my women."

"Oh, you are," Bobby said with a giggle.

"Do you suppose I'll really grow a couple of inches?"

Bobby rubbed her breasts against him. "Diana says all the Alpha's grew some. And this," she said as she added her hand to her sister's to caress his cock, "is supposed to grow some, too." The sisters looked at each other for a moment. "But we're already worrying that we won't be able to take you. If you get even bigger, we might have some real problems."

Art chuckled as he hugged the women hard against him. "I'm just on the high side of average, and you both know it. But ... I don't mind having my ego pumped a little," he finished, laughing.

Sandra pulled his face down and kissed him. When she reluctantly pulled back, "'High side of average' or not, that thing is going to fill us up, and ... I'm so horny I can't stand myself. Let's finish this and get in the bedroom."

Art was expecting them to have to dry their hair, but it soon became obvious they weren't going to wait that long. They both towel dried their tresses, leaving a fresh towel wrapped around to collect the rest of the moisture. In the bedroom, they tumbled into bed, laughing and teasing each other. The towels soon slipped off and were tossed on the floor. The women went after his cock, but he pulled away, finally managing to get the two of them lying side-by-side on the big bed. Kissing Bobby and then Sandra, he eventually trailed kisses down Sandra's body. As he moved back to kiss Bobby, she reached up to hold his face. "We'll never get anywhere like this," she laughed. "Do my sister first. I'm not going anywhere."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she quietly said. "Besides, I want to watch."

Art turned back to Sandra and within moments was nursing one breast while he caressed and tugged gently on her other nipple. Amazing him, she came within a couple of minutes — really came — her body arching and shivering, her breath coming in gasps.

"I ... I don't. I..."

He had no idea what she was trying to say, and wasn't sure she did, either. As she was coming down from the orgasm, he kissed his way on down her stomach, tongued her navel, then continued southward. It didn't take him long to realized that he had her full attention. Her breath changed into short gasps as he neared her pussy. He traced his tongue down her outer labia, just lightly licking, almost randomly. She hissed in a breath as he applied more pressure to force the outer lips apart. A few licks upward, stopping just before her clit, brought her near to her second orgasm. As he flicked her clit with his tongue, she sucked in a deep breath.

He backed his tongue away, then cupped it and tried to force it into her tunnel. Her legs first widened, then locked hard against his head. Her pussy's entrance was too tight to allow his tongue to enter, but her breath changed to a quiet chuffing as her hands locked into his hair. He licked upward, suddenly closing his lips around her clit and sucking hard. Her hips slammed upward, bashing her sex against his nose and mouth. He hoped he hadn't bitten her, but if he did, she apparently didn't notice. Her body arched and quivering, she screamed out her orgasm. After a while, she ran out of breath, but continued with a mewling sound as her body continued to shiver. The orgasm appeared to go on and on, her body continuing to shake. He was having trouble getting enough air, but managed to move his face back an inch or so every now and then to get a gulp of much-needed oxygen.

Worried about her, he just held his mouth against her pussy, occasionally tenderly kissing, and tried to wait her out. The shivers eventually died down as did the whimpering.

"She's out," Bobby said, awe obvious in her voice. "I've never seen her faint before." After a moment, she went on, "Her pulse is high, and her respirations are shallow and fast, but she seems okay. She just ... fainted."

After a moment, there was an unintelligible sound from Sandra.

"Shhhh," Bobby shushed as she hugged her sister. "You're fine. You just passed out."

"Come up here and hold her," Bobby ordered.

As Art took the young woman in his arms, Bobby hurried to get a glass of water, a damp washcloth and a towel. Back a moment later, she bathed her sister's face with the cool cloth, then motioned for Art to sit Sandra up a little. Sandra grabbed hold of the glass of water, but forced herself to take only a few sips. "Oh, that's good," she whispered before taking a bigger drink. A moment later, she finished the glass and Bobby put it on the bedside table.

Bobby leaned over to lick his lips. "Might want to use that washcloth on your own face," she giggled, "although, my sister does taste good."

Sandra smiled at Art, then took the cloth to wipe his face. "Oh, my. It does look like I ... uh, drooled on you, didn't I?" Not giving him time to answer, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. When she sniffed, he realized she was crying.

"Hey, Girl. Why the tears?"

"Silly, she's happy," Bobby said.

"My sister..." Sandra quietly said, "It's my sister's turn. Please make love to her like you did to me."

Hours later, the three collapsed into a deep sleep, the nurses sprawled across their Alpha, the room air saturated in pheromones and the smell of sex.

4:00 A.M. WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30

Jeff slid out of bed and maneuvered around until he could whisper into Kayla's ear, "You going with me this morning?"

Kayla's eyes flew open just before she smiled and reached up to put her arms around her husband's neck. "Damn straight," she whispered, teasingly, using Jeff's term as she nipped his earlobe.

"Get out of that bed, Hussy, and let's do it," he teased while caressing a nipple.

"Need to pee," she mumbled as she hurriedly got out of bed and dashed to the bathroom.

Shortly, they were dressed in their winter running gear. As soon as they stepped out the door into the cold, Kayla hissed in a breath. Tugging her mask into place, she pulled her hood forward, and zipped the thin Gore-Tex jacket to her chin as she stared at the steady snowfall in the security lights. She looked at her husband, the wind whipping the white puff of her breath away.

Before she could comment, he said, "You don't have to do this, Baby. I'm armed and I have a security team. When the General sent you out here, he didn't expect you to go running with me. Besides, you're my wife now. And, if you still insist on going to protect me, you can just ride in one of the vehicles with Security."

"You going to wimp out on me?" she teased.

"Hell, no. I like to run in the snow. We never had much in Georgia, but I've certainly run in snow in other places around the country."

"Then, let's do it. I need to generate some heat, so this jacket will warm me. I'm about to freeze my ass standing here talking about it," she said, starting off.

-------

"The Colonel and Lieutenant Fisher are outside," the duty operator said on her mike before the two were ten feet from the back steps. A few seconds later, the escorts were rolling.

It had snowed heavily during the night. "What's the road like?" Carter asked from the second seat of the first Escalade as they moved through the ski lodge parking lot.

"We finished a pass with the plow about thirty minutes ago, but with this much snow coming down, there's going to be some on the road, anyway. You still going to run in this?"

"Yeah. I'm going to get better with my distance running if it kills me. And it just might," Carter muttered under his breath.

"You're too friggin' big to be a distance runner, and besides that, don't you get enough training with your team? I tried out, but didn't quite make the cut. I made the physicals, but my shooting wasn't good enough. Of course, none of the others made it either. Still..."

"Practice. We'll have tryouts again."

"Yeah, I know."

"So how did you wind up out here?"

"I don't know. I guess I just couldn't let an assignment like this slip past. I got hurt on my last mission and wasn't able to go back off-world when my team left, then when my health was back to one hundred percent, this position came open. For a Colonel, he's a nice guy, so here I am. So, what gives with you? You trying to make brownie points by escorting the Colonel at four in the morning?" The last was said in jest, and Carter knew it.

Carter thought for a moment. Finally, "I'm not sure. When the team goes back off-world, I'll go with them. I asked permission to stay with the Security detail for a few weeks when the team left after the attack, then the General sent the rest of the team back out here with the weapon installations, and to test the new camouflage. Setting up the security facility, and being a little closer to the Colonel and his family just seemed to work out. What I'm going to really miss is not having him leading the team when we're off-world. Now that he's been promoted to Colonel, there's no way the General will allow him to lead a combat team off-world. Hell, the General was stretching it when he let him do it as a major. Even then, the General only sent Major Matthews on missions that were damn near impossible."

They sat in their Escalade waiting for Jeff and Kayla to come down the driveway. As soon as they were in sight, Carter pulled his mask over his face, zipped his jacket and stepped out to wait.

Jeff and Kayla ran abreast, with Carter a few steps behind. Jeff held back for the first mile, then gradually began to pick up the pace. Running far below his normal pace, the Prime still pushed Carter beyond his comfort zone. Carter, watching Kayla's lithe form seemingly matching the Colonel's pace effortlessly, put his head down and vowed to keep up.

-------

Carter had long since unzipped his jacket almost to the bottom, but although his body was hot, the cold air was burning his overworked lungs even through the mask. He had no idea what his heart rate was, but he could feel the throb of a fast pulse in his throat. His vision had already tunneled, the gray of his peripheral vision letting him know his big body had no more to offer. He focused on his Colonel's back and refused to slow.

Without Carter realizing it, Jeff was somehow running beside him. "You just passed seven miles, Carter, and you've maintained a five minute pace all the way. Better not overdo it. Why don't you hitch a ride?"

"Seven," the big man managed to croak out. "You sure, Sir?"

"Yeah, the blazed tree is a hundred yards or so behind us. We'll walk a little way with you while you cool down," Jeff said as they slowed to a fast walk.

"Five minute pace for seven miles. You sure, Sir?" Carter asked again, knowing he had to have misunderstood somehow.

"Yeah, Carter, I'm sure," Jeff said, chuckling. "Well done my friend."

"Thank you, Sir," Carter said. A few minutes later, he stumbled into the second Escalade.

"You gonna live?" Slater asked with a laugh as Carter managed to close the door and the Escalade caught back up with Jeff and Kayla.

"No," Carter said, his legs feeling like they belonged to a ninety-year-old man. He sat staring at the couple in front of them. Kayla staggered when a hard gust of mountain wind shook her, but didn't slow her pace.

"Shit," Carter quietly said, "they're just strolling along chatting."

"Yeah, but she only has to carry half the ass down the road that you do."

Carter sat up straighter now that he was feeling better, "Doesn't matter. Every time I watch her run I feel like I'm just stomping along. She looks like she barely touches the ground. And the Colonel hardly makes any noise, even in this snow. How in the hell does he do that?"

Slater laughed. "Search me. I would bust my ass running in this shit. But speaking of the Lieutenant, if she keeps this up, it won't be long before she's going to be running with the Colonel all the way."

A couple miles farther on, Kayla fell back, walked for a little while, and got in the SUV with them. Jeff went to his normal speed. Carter hung his head and muttered, "Shit."



-------

Chapter 143

The fire was roaring in the fireplace and Jeff, Dave, Bill and Frank sat near it drinking coffee and just "being men" as Diana liked to say.

Art walked in and paused, "Mind if I join you guys? Sandra and Bobby have gone to help in the kitchen."

Jeff motioned for him to come on in. "I told you that you're one of us. This is your home. The only places that are off limits without knocking are our bedrooms. Now get your butt in here, grab a cup of coffee and sit with us."

Art took a cup from the cart and filled it from an insulated carafe. Bill got up and slid a chair over near the others. Art thanked him and sat to sip his coffee.

"Well?" Jeff teased with a grin, but Art didn't know Jeff well enough to even realize that he was teasing.

"Uh?" Art responded. "I don't..." Then it dawned on him what the grin was about. "Uh..." embarrassed, "we're not going to ... consummate our relationship until our wedding night."

"Hmmm," Dave said, his eyes giving away his mood, "was that your idea, or theirs?"

The men all chuckled, even Art. "I suppose it's all... our idea."

"So you're going to lie there in that bed with those beautiful women and control your newfound talents so well that you don't let any pheromones slip? Better thee than me, my brother. Better thee than me," Dave repeated, laughing.

Art suddenly realized a side effect of his enhancement — he blushed easily.

Frank got up to refill his cup, and slapped Art on the back as the older man passed by. "They're screwing with you, my young friend. We all wish you and your women well, and..." he said, drawing out the comment, "if you can hold out until Monday night..." He left the rest unsaid, but with the implication that waiting would be very hard, indeed.

"I know," Art responded. "Oh, trust me. I know how hard it's going to be."

Dave added, "And that's one of the, uh, 'problems' with our enhancement. Your dick will get hard with a change in wind direction, let alone being in bed with two beautiful women."

The men chatted for a while, and Jeff slid his seat closer to the young agent as the two conversed in a more serious manner.

A few minutes later, Jeff turned his head to look toward the doorway where Hope, accompanied by her sister, Jennie, stood. Diana, Arlene and Helen were a step behind them.

Art started to rise to his feet, realizing that something was about to happen by the serious looks on the faces of the women and girls, but Jeff put a restraining hand on the agent's shoulder. "Stay seated. Let her come to you," Jeff said in a quiet whisper that Hope could not have heard across the big room.

Jeff had told Art about the problem Hope had been having, and now the Prime was doubly glad he had. Art sat smiling, while Hope gathered her courage. Jennie and Hope, holding hands, walked slowly toward Art.

As the two stopped by the side of Art's chair, he put his cup down on the carpet. Hope took a breath and released Jennie's hand. "Mr. Hanes, I've come to apologize and to thank you for saving me. Art started to stand, but a suddenly crying Hope, flung herself at him, her arms going around his neck, as she stumbled and more or less fell into his lap.

The shock of the crying girl falling into his lap, stunned Art's thoughts for a second, but his arms automatically encircled her. "Shhh. No need for that. It's no big deal."

"Yes it is. It's a really big deal that I couldn't come to thank you for saving me from those awful men. I tried to come to thank you. I really did. I was just so screwed up. The Ship helped me, but I meant to come to see you earlier. I really did," she sobbed. "I just couldn't,  and I ... hic," she said as her hiccups started, "can do it now... hic. Thank you, hic. Ohhh, " she grumped out in frustration at her body's reaction to the stress of the moment.

Art forced himself to not grin. "Shhh. Easy," he quietly said into her ear. "It's all over, and besides, I was just doing my job."

The sobbing continued, her voice slurred by her efforts to talk through her crying. "Every time I saw you,  I would just be back, hic,  in that motel room. I know it's nuts, but I, hic,  just couldn't help it."

Art glanced over at the doorway when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Oh, shit. Bobby and Sandra are watching, too. I don't know whether they're jealous or not, but it has to be obvious to everyone in this room that Hope has her breasts pressed against me. I know she doesn't realize it, but I feel them.

Absently, he rubbed her back, continuing to soothe her, while desperately looking at his women. Both gave him very subtle high signs and smiles, but by now he was becoming very, very aware of the sexy young woman in his lap, her butt right on top of his groin. Get a hard on and you're dead,  he thought, desperation gaining magnitude as he felt his cock starting to swell from the weight pressed against it, the very delectable weight of this crying girl.

Jeff knew that his Queen had set this up. His eyes locked with hers, a big smile breaking across her face. At a barely discernable motion from Jeff, Diana hurried over and sat in his lap, even as Jenny leaned over to hug Hope in an effort to help calm her.

Eventually, Hope sat up and wiped her eyes with the tissues her sister handed her. "Oh, my goodness. I cried all over your shirt, and your neck is wet too," she finished, dabbing at the wet places with her tissue.

She wiped her eyes one final time, blew her nose and tossed the tissue in a nearby wastebasket, the movement on Art's lap causing his face to blush yet again.

"Your, uh, mates gave me permission to do this," Hope said as she leaned over and kissed him. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but neither was it just a peck.

Desperately, Art clamped down on the pheromones that he had almost let slip.

"Thank you," she quietly said, unaware of Art's predicament, her voice laden with sincerity.

"You're most welcome," he managed in an almost-normal voice, hoping she would get up soon.

A look passed between Jeff and Jennie when Hope regained her feet. Jennie plopped down in the newly vacanted lap and kissed Art. Like, Hope's, the kiss was a tender one, and not provocative. "Thank you for saving my sister." There were tears in Jennie's eyes as she continued, "I'll never forget what you did. I got on my knees and thanked God for sending you to save her."

"I, uh," Art stopped as his voice failed and he had to clear his throat. "You guys are making too much out of this. I was just doing my job. Things got out of hand and there was only one solution..."

Jennie pressed her cheek against his. "Thank you," she said, then stood as a frustrated Art tried to control his beet red face. He had loved his FBI training, but Quantico hadn't had a course in this.

The girls locked hands and went out the door. Diana, well aware of what was going on with the young agent, kissed her husband, stood to wink at Art, then hurried after the others. Sandra and Bobby took one last look in the room, smiling at their mate before turning to go back to the kitchen with the other women.

The men sat quietly for a time, none wanting to diminish the young Alpha's moment by kidding him about it. Jeff finally broke the silence with, "Women can sometimes ... stress us without realizing it."

Jeff had meant the public display of Hope's gratitude, but Dave thought of a second meaning. He had just taken a sip of coffee, and made a sputtering noise, not choking, but obviously holding back something he thought of at that instant. With laughter dancing in his eyes, he gave in to the thought. "You mean by sitting on our dicks and wiggling around without realizing what they're doing?" he chuckled, Frank and Bill quickly joining in with their laughter.

Jeff hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help teasing just a little. "I'm amazed he doesn't have a boner." Art's face blazed again. "Want some more coffee, Art?" the Prime said, standing.

"Please," the young agent said. It wasn't immediately obvious whether the please was a plea not to kid him, or a request for coffee. All the men laughed, anyway.

-------

When the women returned to the kitchen, Diana smiled at Hope, standing in front of her and taking the teenager's hands for a moment. "Well done. I'm proud of you."

"Me too," Jennie added, obviously very pleased with her sister.

Before Hope could respond, Arlene grabbed Hope's hand. "Come on. I need help with the home fries." Before the teenager could think much about what had happened in the living room, she was immersed in making a mountain of home fries and listening to Arlene tell about snowboarding the driveway.

Jennie, joined by Melissa, drew Sandra and Bobby into the laughter and comradery of meal preparation.

-------

Joyce, still in uniform, walked into the kitchen just as everyone began filling his or her plates from the steam table. She headed straight for Jeff, kissing him passionately for an extended period of time. The only reason the kiss wasn't more passionate was the little genius standing near and eyeing the two.

"Look the other way, please, Selina," Joyce said, kissing her husband again.

Selina giggled and turned back to filling her plate.

"What got you warmed up?" Jeff asked, "Not that I'm complaining," he finished.

"Oh, nothing I guess," Joyce said as she walked in front of Jeff to pick up a plate and pile on several serving spoons of scrambled eggs. "I got caught behind a snowplow on the main road out of Winter Park. Dragging along behind him, I had plenty of time to think about my husband." Then in a stage whisper, "And what he's going to do to me in a few minutes."

"I heard that," Selina responded as Jeff and Joyce laughed.

The laughter and chatter between family members continued with Art, Sandra and Bobby being included.

Plates laden, everyone found places to sit. "Wow, I'm glad to get home," Joyce said. "I swear I had to deal with idiots all night. Sometimes I think that idiots are like vampires. They only come out at night. As soon as the sun goes down, they seem to crawl out of their caves."

Selina volunteered to say the blessing. Astonishing everyone, she recited a child's prayer, but there was no doubt about her sincerity. Jeff looked at her and raised an eyebrow slightly. "Predictability is boring," she said, grinning.

How did we ever get along without her,  he thought as she launched into a discussion of probability theory with an amused Doctor Boswell.

As breakfast was drawing to a close, Jeff caught his wife's eyes. "Now what's this about all the idiots last night?"

Joyce thought for a second, then said, "It was as if fairies were sprinkling dumb dust everywhere. The shift started off with this idiot, wearing nothing but his undershorts, locking himself out of his motel room. Weeknight, the motel only had a few customers, and this drunk needed something from his car, so I suppose he decided to not bother with dressing and was just going to slip out to his car for a second. The operative term here is 'slip.' His car was parked close to his room, so he put on a pair of slippers. Actually they were flip flops like you would wear on the beach. The motel is an old one with outside corridors. Anyway, he walked out of his room, stepped off the curb and busted his butt on a patch of ice. As the drunk tried to drag himself back into his room, he discovered — naturally — that he had locked himself out. Paramedic said he didn't think the hip was broken, and thought it may be dislocated, but he couldn't be sure since the guy was so obese.

"The only people close enough to the genius's room to hear his screaming and cussing was a pair of spinster sisters, so of course, they called us. When I got there, they were standing in the door to their room clutching each other, while the drunk, instead of being pleased that someone had come to help him, drew back a fist and told me to get away from him, and that he hated women. Said his ex-wife had 'taken him to the cleaners, ' and didn't want some 'female cop' touching him. It wasn't as if I could handcuff him and drag him off to jail for lying there with his ... uh, exposed and cussing loud enough for the world to hear him. He was injured. I tried to cover him with a blanket — the idiot was lying in snow — but he wouldn't allow that.

"Finally the paramedics got there, strapped him to a gurney and trucked him off to the hospital. My Lieutenant saw the end of it, and he kidded me every time he saw me the rest of the shift. He kept teasing me about eyeing the drunk's, uh..."

"Penis," Selina offered helpfully.

Joyce mock glared at her, "Uh, penis sticking out of the fly of his shorts," she finally added.

"And were you?" Jeff asked, trying to make his voice gruff, but failing miserably as he held back laughter.

"No," Joyce giggled. "And you know what cold does to a man. It was..." She looked over to see if Selina were watching. When Selina appeared to be busy eating a piece of fruit, Joyce held up her hand, her thumb and index finger about an inch apart.

"So you were checking him out," Jeff accused, his laughter barely concealed.

Joyce burst out laughing. "I was not. I couldn't help seeing it."

"So what else happened? Your comments from before would lead us to believe there was more."

Joyce slid her cup over as Arlene offered a coffee refill. "Thanks," Joyce said to her sister-wife. Then turning back to Jeff, "Well, we do have one less idiot this morning. Of course, I think this guy was well past the idiot stage and firmly into the fool zone. Someone should nominate him for the Darwin award. He's bound to be, at the very least, a runner-up."

By this time, everyone at the table was listening intently. "I got a burglary call in the Burstall area." Knowing that most of the people at the table had no idea where Burstall was, she continued, "It's about twenty miles west of Winter Park, and isn't incorporated. There are a number of houses there in a community that could very well be a small town if they had a few businesses for a tax base. But they don't, so the county has to patrol it. Anyway, this lady is a waitress at a bar and got home about 2:00 A.M. When she walked into her living room, it had been ransacked, so she ran back out of the house and used her cell to call 911. She hadn't heard or seen anyone, but she was afraid the burglar was still in the house.

"When I arrived:

JOYCE'S STORY

"132, 10-7," Joyce said on the radio.

"132, 10-4," headquarters responded.

A woman got out of an SUV and hurried over as Joyce exited her vehicle. "You called for us?" Joyce said as the obviously upset woman neared.

"Yes. I just got home from work and someone has been in my house. My living room is a mess. I..."

"132 to 140." Joyce had changed her radio to TAC 2, and spoke into her lapel mike.

"140. What do you have, Joyce?"

"Burglary. How about backing me up on this one. The perp might still be in the house."

"I was already rolling your way; I'm about a mile out."

"Thanks."

When 140 arrived, the two deputies checked out the house, both were aware that there was little chance of the burglar still being there, but assumptions get cops killed. They found drawers pulled out and tossed on the floor, boxes from closets opened and contents thrown about, the house generally in a mess.

The burglar had forced a back window to get in, found the resident's stash of a few dollars, and exited via the back door. Naturally he left the door wide open. There were tracks in the snow where he had walked from the street to the window, then basically retraced his steps as he left the scene. But his boot treads, if there were any, were clogged with snow, so nothing could be learned from the tracks. Once the burglar got to the street where it had been plowed out, they couldn't find any evidence that would help.

"I'll ride around and check out the neighborhood," Jason said. "He might be dumb enough to still be on the street."

"Appreciate it," Joyce said as she took her laptop from the front seat and returned to the complainant's living room to make out a burglary report.

Jason turned his take-down and alley lights on as he cruised down the street, then turned in an alley to set up a grid search, looking for anyone or anything out of place.

Back inside the house, Joyce asked for the lady's driver's license, scanned it into her computer, then after listening to the complainant tell about arriving home to find her living room trashed, Joyce began typing out the narrative.

Down the block, a fifty-one-year-old woman, dressed in pajamas, ran out her back door, her feet going out from under her on her snow-covered back steps. Heedless of a skinned elbow and wet clothing from the fall on the snow-covered steps, she struggled to her feet. A hand grabbed at her as she dodged, but the hand managed to clamp down on her hair. She thrashed her head and kneed at her tormentor's groin, but he managed to partially deflect the blow. Pulling free of him as he grunted in pain, her terror mounting, she ran stumbling and slipping, toward the back door of the house next door.

Up the steps, she almost fell again on the slick porch as she yanked the storm door open, praying that old Mr. Donaldson had left his door unlocked as he usually did. As she fumbled the door open, her assailant hit an icy spot on the porch and fell, cursing.

"Jake! Jake!" the woman screamed as she ran through the kitchen, into the living room, then ran left into Jake Donaldson's bedroom, her assailant two steps behind her.

Jake Donaldson was ninety-two and had trouble sleeping most every night. Tonight was no exception. He had awakened thirty minutes ago, and had gotten up to fix himself a big mug of hot chocolate. Back in the bedroom, he had propped his pillow against the head of the bed, took a sip of the hot drink, and placed the mug on the bedside table, before opening his Bible to read for awhile.

Half way through the second chapter of Luke, his world changed. His back door slammed open, putting a dent in the wall from the doorknob striking it, and Debra, his next door neighbor, came screaming through the house making enough noise to be a herd of horses running at full gallop.

Suddenly she careened off his open bedroom door and ran to him screaming for help. Just as she got to Jake, her pursuer caught up to her, grabbing her by her hair and jerking her over backwards.

"Let that woman go," the old man bellowed out in a surprisingly loud voice as he turned to put his feet on the floor.

"Fuck you, old man," the assailant said as he waved a boning knife in Jake's face. "I'll cut your fucking throat, you old geezer. Just shut the fuck up and stay out of this. Bitch didn't have any money, but I'm going to get some pussy, anyway."

"You don't say," Jake got out quietly as he reached under his pillow.

"Get my dick out and start sucking it, Bitch, the assailant snarled down at the cringing woman at his feet, his hand still wrapped in her hair.

Jake Donaldson took his old High Standard, six inch barrel, revolver from under his pillow and stuck it almost against the assailant's chest. As fast as he could pull the trigger, the old man fired nine rounds into the burglar/would-be rapist.

With an astonished look, the assailant collapsed onto his back, dead before he even hit the floor, the knife still clutched in his right hand.

"You all right, Debra?" the old man asked the shaking woman.

"Hell, no,  I'm not alright," Debra sobbed as she sat staring at the dead man. "Is he dead?"

"As a doornail."

"He was going to rape me. And you know he would have killed me afterward."

"I don't think you have to worry about that, just now," Jake said with a grin.

"You killed him," Debra got out in a trembling voice even as she realized how stupid it sounded.

"Well," Jake chortled. "What did you expect? He brought a knife to a gunfight. I knew my buddy here would come in handy one day," he continued, looking down at the gun in his hand. "I've had it for fifty years and the only thing I've killed with it before this was a few tin cans. Looks like nine of them little bullets was a mite more than his system could digest."

The old man stood up. As he stood, he looked down at the woman. Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. "Told you to get yourself a gun. Whatcha gonna do when I croak, hmmm? Alright, get on out of here, Woman, and let me get my pants on. Guess I need to call the Sheriff and get him to haul this garbage away."

"I'm not going anywhere, " Debra said as she handed Jake the pants that had been on a nearby chair. He just grinned at her as he pulled them on over his pajamas.

"What's that light out there?" Donaldson said as Jason stopped his vehicle outside, the alley and take-down light still on and lighting up the house.

Debra went over and pulled the curtains open a little more. "Looks like the Sheriff is already here," she said, turning back to her savior.

"I might as well get this over with," Jake said as he walked into the living room with Debra suddenly hanging onto his arm. "Woman, lego my arm so I can get the dang door open."

Debra snatched the door open with her other hand, not releasing her hold on Jake for even a second.

At about the same time that Joyce reached Jason, the man and woman came out on the porch, the woman in pajamas, and the man wearing a pair of work pants over what appeared to be pajamas, both barefoot. He was holding a revolver in his hand, but it was pointed downward, and the crying woman was clinging to his other arm with a desperation that was visible even from the street.

"Over here, Sheriff," the old man called out. "I got a dead man in my house."

On TV, the cops would have pointed their weapons at the man and would have made him put the gun on the floor, and maybe have made him lie spread eagle while they retrieved the weapon and handcuffed him, before they figured out what was wrong. But neither Joyce nor Jason even considered it. While they did still have their Glocks in their hands, they knew that the old man wasn't a threat to them.

Jason stepped up on the porch first. "You mind if I hold that while we find out what's going on?" the deputy said in a calm voice.

"Ain't no problem, Son," the old man said, handing the revolver to the deputy. "Fool chased my neighbor here into my house," he said, nodding to the woman clinging to him. "She didn't take to being raped, so she run over to my place. I guess he figured I was too old to worry about. Arthritis ain't that bad, though. I can still pull a trigger just fine."

"Where is..."

"Bedroom," Jake said. "First door on the right."

"You two just stay in the living room for a few minutes. And I would appreciate it if you didn't talk about this for now," Joyce told the couple. Jason and Joyce stepped into the bedroom, weapons ready just in case. There was a lighted lamp near the bed, but Joyce flipped the overhead light on as soon as she found the switch.

"Shit, " Jason said as he looked down at the body near the bed. His powerful flashlight still in his hand, he shined it unnecessarily on the assailant's chest. "Look at that. An old man put a group like that in a perp's chest. Damn, I'm jealous."

Joyce knelt and visually examined the bullet holes. Doing a quick count, she said, "Nine. He put nine in this guy's chest. No wonder he's dead, but there are powder burns and stippling on the tee shirt. Looks like extremely close range. I'll bet that revolver is a nine-shot. We need to call for the paramedics, anyway. Policy." Putting action to words, she called for the paramedics, then called the shift commander, quickly filling him in on what they had.

"Cadaveric spasm," Joyce said as she motioned to the boning knife still clutched in the assailant's hand.

"Sure isn't much blood," Jason said, "even if those are little holes."

Joyce, remembering her anatomy class, said, "I'd guess that at least three of those little bullets went through his heart. Without the heart beating, little blood would be pumped out of his system, and with the way he's lying on his back, there was very little drainage. I'd bet there would be a lot more blood on this floor if he had landed on his face."

Joyce stood up so she would be closer to Jason and could speak quietly. "This guy has to be in his nineties. I hate taking him to headquarters with what he'll have to go through. Heck, he's skin and bones, and he looks frail as can be. Now, because of this dirtbag lying here on the floor, that old man is going to be hassled by our people, no matter how nice they try to be to him."

"It's procedure, Joyce. We know this is a good shoot, but we have to treat everyone the same way..."

"He's an old man — old. He just saved his neighbor from being raped, and probably killed. That old man should be at home in bed, not sitting in an interrogation room at three o'clock in the morning being questioned by a detective."

"I agree, but..."

Joyce hit a speed dial number on her phone.

Jason frowned, "Who're you calling?"

"The Sheriff," she answered. "I don't see why the DA can't come out here and get this over with right now. We can record this elderly man's statement in his living room and have the DA rule it justifiable homicide tonight. I am not going to put this man through the mill. He doesn't deserve that..."

Joyce abruptly stopped when the phone was answered, "Virginia. It's Joyce ... Oh, everything is fine; I just need to talk to Quinton for a minute ... Hey Quinton, it's me, Joyce ... Yeah, everything is fine, I just need a big favor..."

-------

Two hours later, the homicide investigation on-scene was winding down. One of the deputies had brought a big box of doughnuts for the old man and his neighbors. A neighbor had come over and made coffee for everyone. Debra was now fully dressed, as was Jake. A detective had interviewed them, separately of course, in Mr. Donaldson's kitchen. The coroner had made his own set of crime scene pictures, and was now gone. The statements were printed out and signed. The acting DA had gladly responded to view the scene first hand — amazing what raiding a DA's office will do for cooperation — and he had assured Sheriff Tate that he and the coroner had agreed it was justifiable homicide and it would be ruled accordingly.

Joyce got Jason to walk with her to the back porch. "Wow. I didn't know you..."

Joyce turned to face him. "I don't get anything special — nothing. My family and the Sheriff's family are close friends. And ... you need to forget it. I didn't do this for me; that old man saved his neighbor's life and I just didn't want him hassled. If he had been fifty, I wouldn't have thought a thing about taking him to the station and having him go through the regular procedure. He told me he was ninety-two. Did you hear him say he had retired from two jobs? He retired from the railroad, then from the city of Denver. He said he did not miss a single shift from Denver or the railroad during both careers. Darn it, society owes him something. And that's not even counting tonight. If word gets out that I called Sheriff Tate at home, I'll know who started it. He's going to say he heard it on his radio and decided to come out on his own. Let's just keep it that way."

"Shit, Joyce. I'm not going to tell anybody. You work as many hours as the rest of us and you don't slack on anything. I'm not going to mess up a good thing."

Joyce checked to see if anyone were watching, then briefly hugged the other deputy. "Got your back," she said.

"Got yours," Jason agreed.



-------

Chapter 144

Breakfast over and Joyce tucked into bed, Jeff put on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. As he started for the basement to work out on the machines, he realized he had an escort, more like an entourage: Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa.

"Mind if we work out with you?" Arlene asked, bumping her hip against his as they walked down the hallway.

"No, of course not, but don't you have to be in school?"

"Daddy, it's us. Jennie and Melissa have finished all their high school courses. Ann and I have started on our college curriculum, as you know, and Jennie and Melissa will soon. We'll have our 'official' high school graduation ceremony shortly. We're all caught up for now, and besides, it doesn't make any difference when we do our work. We got involved in a project and worked late again yesterday, so we're going to exercise with you this morning."

"Good," he said, putting his arm around her as they all continued down the hall, "you guys can spot for me with the free weights."

"Sure," they all said.

Ann continued with, "We like to watch you lift. It makes us horny," she finished with a sexy giggle.

Jeff could feel pressure beginning to build against his jock strap as his dick started to swell. He tried to shift his mind to his coming workout.

-------

Jeff had worked through a series of different lifting exercises, finishing with bench presses. His four young wives had been working out as he did, but were now standing near him as he worked through his final routine. This time, however, he had more weight on the bar, by far, than he had ever lifted before, more weight than it seemed possible his frame could lift. Still, his body had adapted during the last weeks until it took many reps to tire him. Little One had assured him his bones, muscles and tendons were denser and far stronger than an unenhanced human could ever be. Amazed at his own body, and fully knowing he could never have done this without the Ship's and Little One's enhancements, he had reached the point of even feeling a little guilty that he could do so many things so easily.

Lying on his back as he extended his arms and pushed the weights up, well into the exercise, his body glistened with sweat almost as if it had been oiled. Although he was not consciously emitting pheromones, it was obvious that something was exciting his wives. Each of them sported prominent nipples and flushed faces. Well, I couldn't find many things that would keep my mind off the pain more than the sight of those nipples,  he thought as he pushed his body. "Thirty-nine," he said aloud..."forty." He was past his comfort zone. I can do ten more,  he thought. This is more weight than I've ever lifted, and it almost seems like cheating. I'm well into the area of real weight lifters, yet my body doesn't look like one of the big lifters.

He strained through five more. Five more to go. I can do it. I can do it. No pain; no gain,  he told himself as he pushed the weights above him again. Then a little later, "Forty-six," he said aloud, his arms beginning to tremble some.

"Dad?" Arlene said, a little concern in her voice. She nodded to the others and they positioned themselves to help rack the bar if he couldn't make the lift.

"Forty-seven," Jeff strained out, pronouncing each word separately, as his arms reached full extension. The bar came back down a little faster than he would have liked, but he pushed up hard again. "Forty-eight." His arms had shaken more that time.

"Dad. That's enough."

"Only need two more," he gasped out. "Gonna do fifty," he said through gritted teeth, fire in his muscles.

"Dad, I don't like this," Arlene said, a frown creasing her pretty face. "If you can't push it up, we'll never be able to get the weights off you."

Jessie and Melissa, worried about their husband, had positioned themselves on either end of the bar so that they could grab the weights and help their husband rack the bar, if need be. Arlene and Ann were standing behind the stand ready to grab the bar and help, also.

"Forty... nine," Jeff gasped out, as he reached full extension, then, "Jennie, Melissa, you're too close; your feet are under the weights. Get back," he hissed out.

Both girls spread their feet away from the path of the weights should Jeff lose control, but they hovered with their hands near the bar, just as Arlene and Ann did standing behind the rack. Jeff took a couple of deep breaths, then pushed again. The weights came up two thirds of the way and stopped, their upward movement stalled. Jeff's arms shook, the ribbons of muscles standing out on his arms, the veins like pulsing ropes. A groan accompanied by a massive effort and the weights went on to the top of the lift.

"Fifty!" the young wives called out as one.

Jeff, his arms trembling, began to move the bar back the few inches so that it would drop into the slots of the rack, but something happened to his body, a body that had been pushed even beyond what a Prime could do. The weights wavered. The young wives all grabbed the bar and heaved upward with all their might, trying to help their husband guide the bar into its cradle. Jennie and Melissa, with no thought for their own safety, now had their feet in the path of the weights on the end of the bar as they strained. Jeff's right arm had cramped, a muscle knotting up to suddenly produce a bulge in his right triceps, the pain intense, the arm suddenly weakening at the most critical moment.

"Get clear," he yelled out. "Get clear. I'm going to drop it. Move!" he screamed out.

Jennie and Melissa jumped back, but to a straining Jeff, it seemed to take forever for them to get clear. Finally, he jerked his head forward as the bar slid past and the weights crashed into their pads on the floor. Despite the thick padding, the force of the massive weights slamming down caused spider cracks in the industrial grade cement floor.

-------

Diana had been walking toward the classroom chatting with Helen when the Queen suddenly started. Between one word and the next, as Helen reached to open the classroom door, Diana began sprinting down the hall. Snatching the stairway door open, she crossed the small landing, put her right hand on the slick mahogany railing of the stairway and launched herself.

She had seen it done in a movie once, the actor, really the stuntman, had grabbed a stairway railing and jumped. He had controlled his descent past a dozen steps with the pressure of his hand on the railing, to slam directly onto the landing. With no conscious thought for her own safety, Diana had done the same. The hand on the railing had produced a somewhat controlled fall. She realized she was going to be short and tried to push against the railing to extend her arc, but her right heel touched the edge of the last step, then her left foot followed by her left knee slammed into the floor as she rolled and came to her feet, her run continuing.

She burst into the weight room just as Jeff dropped the weights. She saw the weight miss his head as she stumbled on the injured knee and heel to fall on him as she called out his name, "Jeeefffff."

Jeff, frustrated, knowing he could have easily gotten from under the weights in time if his wives hadn't been trying to restrain the weights, thus exposing them all to danger, was trying to untangle himself from the five crying females who seemed bent on resisting his efforts to the death. Then he realized it, "Diana's hurt," he finally yelled. "Move, please."

Helen came crashing into the room, her eyes wild. "Jeff..."

"I'm fine. Ummph," he got out as yet another body piled into the mix, "but Di's hurt."

"It's nothing. It's nothing," the Queen said past choked-off sobs. "I just skinned my knee. Are you all right? That bar almost hit your head."

"I'm fine, Baby."

Then a wet, nude Kayla, Glock in hand, came running in, murder in her eyes.

"I'm fine, Kayla. I'm fine. I just dropped the weights," Jeff hastily said, her eyes seeking targets as she protected her mate.

Kayla turned to glare at him, then like a lioness, she began to pace, her body full of adrenalin, flushed, her nipples swollen and erect, her breasts jiggling.

"You scared the piss out of me," she got out. "I was in the stupid shower all the way at the other end of the Retreat. I should have been here with you."

"No," Jeff said. "You did not have to be with me. Please everybody, just calm down. I'm not hurt. Nothing has really happened other than a loud noise when I dropped the weights."

Rolling off him, Diana hissed in a breath.

Jeff stared at her knee. "You didn't just skin that knee; look at it. You must have whacked it pretty hard. What happened? What did you do?"

"I guess I was in a hurry coming down the steps," she understated. "I must have hit the knee when I landed."

"Landed?" he questioned, frowning.

"Yeah, I, uh, guess I kind of jumped."

"Shit. You jumped?" he hissed out.

"Yeah, I guess."

"We need Little One, right?" Melissa said.

"Yeah, she's in her drawer."

Suddenly, there was an avalanche of wives pouring into the room, all asking what happened. Pandemonium reigned for a few moments.

"I'm gone," Melissa got out as she rushed through her sister-wives and out the door.

"Melissa, no need to run," Diana called out, but Melissa was already out of earshot.

All his wives were asking questions. "Di hurt her knee and foot," Jeff told them, trying to calm everyone.

Diana was clad in her usual home attire: shorts and a pullover top, the others similarly dressed, except the nude Kayla who had slumped down on a nearby bench. "Easy Baby. Just lie still," Jeff said to his Queen as he ran his hands down her leg, checking her knee.

Diana winced as he gently squeezed her knee. He turned his head to look at her face, "What in the world were you doing?"

"Coming to you, Silly. What else?"

"But why?" he said, glancing at his other wives who were staring back at him.

"But you, uh, called me ... I heard you. Well, I guess you didn't exactly call me, but ... You were in danger ... I guess it was a feeling or something. Oh, I don't know. But I heard you," she insisted.

"Oh, shit," Jeff quietly said as he sat back to look at her.

"My right heel, too, I think," Diana said, trying to distract her husband from what she knew he was thinking.

Jeff slipped her low-top tennis shoe off, then gently squeezed her right heel. Seeing the wince, he started to ask when she said, "I think I clipped it on the last step when I landed. That's probably what caused me to fall on my knee."

"How did you do that?"

"Well, I jumped down the steps. I, uh, grabbed the railing and jumped, but I must have been a little short, because my heel hit the last step."

"Damn, Di. That drop has to be fifteen feet or so."

"Yeah, I know, but the railing slowed my descent. It should have worked, and it did work. I just skinned my knee a little. Now let me up; I'm fine," she said as she sat up.

"You're not going anywhere until Little One checks you out. I don't think anything is broken, but I'm not certain, and I'll bet when you stand you're going to find out you have a bad sprain at the least."

Suddenly tears trickled down the Queen's face. "I was so scared," she managed, trying to hold back sobs.

He pulled her into his arms. Holding her head against his chest and stroking her long, flowing hair, he whispered into her ear telling her how much he loved her.

"We were walking down the hall chatting," Helen offered. "I reached to open the classroom door, and when I looked back, she was sprinting down the hall, and I do mean sprinting."

Arlene sat on the other side of her mother, hugging her. Melissa came hurrying back with Little One. At Jeff's nod, she put the Healer on Diana's knee. All Jeff's wives, other than Kayla who remained on the bench, were now sitting on the floor as near to the couple as they could get. The little alien made a chirping sound and the blue beams came on under her.

"Oh, that feels better," Diana sighed as Little One stopped the pain before working on the torn ligaments.

"How?" Jeff quietly said as he locked eyes with his wife.

Diana sighed. "I just suddenly knew you were in trouble." Then after a moment, "I ... It was like the bear attack. They were the most intense feelings I've ever had, other than an orgasm. I was thinking about what Helen and I were talking about. I had planned to tell Hope we would leave for the art supply store in thirty minutes. Suddenly this feeling just overrode everything, and I guess without any conscious thought at all I was running down the hall. It was as if you were calling out that you were in trouble. I just had to get to you."

"Oh, shit, Di. I'm sorry." I need to have time to think this through,  the Prime thought. This can't happen every time something goes wrong. If the girls hadn't been so protective, I could have easily gotten out from under the weights to let them fall harmlessly. Then Diana does this. This Prime thing has gone too fucking far. She could have broken her neck jumping down those stairs.

Little One beeped and began moving down Diana's leg. A moment later she crossed over to the other leg, then settled on Diana's right foot. "Oh, that feels nice," Diana sighed when the pain there went away also. Reaching down, she put her hand on Little One. "Thank you, My Sister."

{{{ You are welcome. }}}

Diana jerked.

"What?" Jeff said.

"I heard her," his Queen responded. "I heard her. I'm sure of it. She said, 'You're welcome.' ... Well, kind of. That's what she meant. I'm sure of it. Oh, I don't know; I just know she told me you're welcome."

Jeff stared at his wife. The other wives looked at each other incredulously, but just quietly talked among themselves.

A little later, Little One chirped again, and Jeff put her on his shoulder, but didn't pull the collar of his tee shirt out for her because of his sweat-covered back.

{{{ The smell of your sweat is not offensive to your mates, nor to me, }}} the little alien sent to him.

Jeff smiled and patted her with his hand. Maybe not, but it is to me. I'll shower first, then let you ride my back if you wish.

Jeff stood and helped Diana to her feet. "Well that started our morning off with a bang. I humbly apologize to all of you for my stupidity. I should have quit at forty-nine." Turning back to his Queen, "Di, I don't know what to say. Thank you, My Love, but please, don't do that again. Nothing is worth your getting hurt."

{{{ Your arm is injured. }}}

It can wait until after my shower. But Little One had already marched down to his triceps.

"You're hurt," Diana said with concern evident in her voice.

"Just a pulled muscle, heck, more of a charley horse than anything else. It's nothing. But you, My Wife, could have been hurt badly."

Diana hugged him. "Hush, Husband. I'm not some fragile vase that breaks when it falls. A couple of skinned places aren't anything to make a big deal over. Now I need to get Hope to that art supply store. Who's going with me?"

"We are," Arlene, Ann and Jennie said.

"Selina wants to go too," Arlene added.

"Okay. Our shorts are going to be a little cool for the occasion," Diana teased. "You can stop by and tell Hope and Selina, then run change."

Giggling, holding hands, Arlene, Ann and Jennie took off together.

{{{ You should not take risks like that, }}} Jeff understood the Healer to say after he unscrambled the thoughts she sent him.

Yes, Boss,  he sent, then when his shoulder stung, Ouch. That smarted,  he sent back as her mental chuckle came back loud and clear.

Kayla stared at him for a moment, walked over, grabbed the back of his head with her left hand, pulled his head down and kissed him hard, jamming her mouth to his. "I'll be waiting in the shower," she almost snarled as she pulled back, her pupils dilated and her nipples still hard and elongated. Whirling around, she marched out the door, oblivious to her nudity, the Glock still casually held in her hand.

Frank stepped into the hallway. "Hey Frank," the nude Kayla said as she passed.

"Hey Kayla," he got out as he stood transfixed. No way in hell am I going to ask her,  he thought.

-------

Diana and Jeff watched the others run up the stairs ahead of them. "You jumped down these?" the Prime said as he and his Queen started up.

"Hush," Diana giggled, "I'm embarrassed enough as it is. And ... more accurately, I busted my ass."

Jeff made a production of looking behind her. "Looks fine to me," he said, grinning.

Diana pinched him in the side. "Men," she giggled.

At the top of the stairs, Jeff reached for the door, but hesitated, "We need to talk about this later, but Baby, please don't do anything like that again, okay?"

Diana turned to bury her head against his shoulder, "I won't do it if you won't scare me to death," she got out, barely choking back a sob/laugh.

Jeff tilted her chin up, touched his lips to hers for a second, then swatted her on the ass. Opening the door to the hall, they walked out. "Want me to go with you to the art place?" he asked.

"You would be bored to death, and we both know it. I want to get Hope everything she needs, and I want to give her ample time to look around without feeling hurried."

"And since I'm a man..."

"You would lose patience with us," she chuckled.

"Yeah, you're probably right." They were quiet for a moment. "Might check with Helen about what type of graphics program she recommends for an art student. Of course, she probably has it already, but you can't ever tell. I know she has graphics tablets, cad programs and graphics programs."

"Already ahead of you. Helen is going to talk to Hope about an online art class, but we don't want to overwhelm her. First we need to get the supplies she will need to get Art's memory of the people he met down on paper. She talked to me a little earlier. She's really anxious to help him. I guess she feels like it's a way to help pay him back for saving her."

Diana absently ran her hands down Jeff's rock-hard arms, her body responding to his muscles and pheromones. "Baby, this will be something that, I think, will really help her deal with what's happened. She's bound to have self-image issues, as we've mentioned before. If we can make this work with the sketching, and it's of use to the FBI, it could help her self-esteem enormously."

"Yeah," the Prime answered, "maybe she will be able to give something of importance. That would be great."

Walking on down the hall, he glanced at his wife as they neared the living room. "You think she's going to be one of Art's mates?"

They stopped in the doorway as the Queen turned to him. "Who knows? I've seen her looking at you, but I suspect she's had all the close contact with men she wants for now. Even though those memories have been apparently repressed, she's been repeatedly rented out by her father, and forced to fuck a number of vicious old men who used her for their sick pleasure."

"And ... she's fifteen," Jeff added.

"True," his wife agreed, "but I don't think that's as much a factor as other things. She's a girl, true, but she's also a woman. Young, but a woman. And don't forget, she is almost sixteen — just a little younger than several of your wives. I think you need to caution Art to keep strict control of his pheromones around her. I want her to choose her mate, not the other way around. And she might want to just be a girl for awhile after all that's happened to her. And as we discussed, she's bound to have some self-image issues out of all this, too. Helen has warned me to be very watchful for them. Who knows how they'll be exhibited.

"Go get your shower before one of your wives rapes you right here in the hall," she teased. "We'll get Hope's art supplies this morning. Some day soon, we'll see if we have a budding graphic artist as well. I suspect she'll take to a graphics tablet just like she does to pencil and paper. Now go take your shower before one of us pulls your cock out right here in the hall, and ... stay away from Hope with all that sweat on you," she giggled, quickly turning to hurry toward Hope's suite.

-------

Jeff sat in the living room with a dozing Kayla on his lap. He watched on the screen as Diana's Escalade met up with Security at the bottom of the drive. Occasionally stroking Kayla's back, his mind wandered. What in the hell did I do to have my life changed so much? The technicians kept refining the portal, for one thing. They learned to find planets and they continued to fine-tune the process until they could find Earth type planets fairly easily. Then one of our teams got its ass kicked. We were naive. We stumbled into the universe basically thinking we could do the equivalent of what our early explorers did to the natives. They wooed them with mirrors and trinkets. We thought our technology would do basically the same. We did find some backward civilizations, but later realized that they were the remnants of advanced civilizations that had met with catastrophe — massive catastrophe.

Then we learned that friendly wasn't the operative term for most of the races we were to meet. Far from it. Aggression was more the norm. Aggression and subjection. More often than not, our beginning teams struggled back with heavy casualties, but we learned new technology. Whitworth increased the teams' training. Upped it almost to the point of viciousness. Survival rates increased, and still he pushed for more intensive training. Acquiring the technology to produce the pulse rifles and battle helmets gave us a little more of an edge. We learned to be cautious, to go quietly, to be suspicious, to make friends with gun in hand. We studied. We learned. We survived, but we must never let any of these races find Earth.

Hell, I was pleased to just be an engineer. I was beginning to make a good living with my little company. One employee,  he thought, smiling — me. I did consulting and various well-paid jobs around the country. Then the team and I found that warehouse, and after that the Ship. I had no idea the warehouse beneath that mountain, and the cavern the Ship was in were connected, but with a dimensional Ship, I guess a little distance across a planet isn't anything. That's no more strange than the inside of the Ship. When I'm on that couch and I think about how big she is inside, things get strange. How can you describe something like that? Infinite dimensions, infinite size? Do those passageways go on forever? That's absurd, not to mention impossible. Shit, the more I think about it, the more confused I become. When I'm on that command couch, I seem to understand. But when I'm not... 

I poured all of our money, and all I could borrow, into working on my invention between off-world ... excursions. If I hadn't sold my invention when I did, we might well have lost everything. Shit, I came close to losing my family, too. I almost divorced Diana. There's still a sick place in my heart when I think about Jack fucking the two of them. Sometimes I wish I had pulled the trigger on my .45 when I had the barrel crammed into Jack's mouth. There are times that I know Diana is thinking of what she did, and I can still see the hurt in her eyes even after nearly five months. I hope that her going after all these women and girls for me to marry isn't just her way of making up for what she let happen with Jack and Arnie. She claims that has nothing to do with her finding women for me, but I still wonder. Bad subject,  he told himself. Think about something else.

The missions kept coming more frequently and the technicians kept getting better results. Now we have several teams of scientists exploring the remains of past civilizations. But somehow, there always seem to be aggressive aliens who find us. Find us and try to erase us from whatever planet we happen to be exploring. So far, they haven't been able to trace our portal. I know the General has used every means at his disposal to make sure that never happens, but if it does, we're in big trouble. But we can't stop. The advances in technology alone prevent us from stopping, and there's a whole universe out there.

We need the operating diameter of the portal increased, but the eggheads say we've reached a theoretical limit. I'm not a theoretical physicist, so my blundering attempts to ask the Ship haven't gone anywhere. And ... as far as I can understand, she doesn't use our portal concepts at all.

The General hasn't asked for volunteers to lie on one of those command couches since those pilots had their problems. Yet, the Ship asked for my daughter. Diana will shit when she finds out what the Ship talked to Arlene about, and I'm not too sure I like it either.

Jeff shifted his sleeping wife on his lap and stared out the window, but his conscious mind barely noticed the backdrop of snow-covered mountains. Halloween is almost here. This is my first Halloween with multiple wives. They are always horny. Hell, I'm always horny, too. A week ago, I got a glimpse of a Halloween adult web page on Di's computer. She closed the computer and told me it was a surprise. I hope they keep it reasonable. That bunch can embarrass the crap out of me, and ... they enjoy doing it. Poor Art. Nurses have a rep for not being embarrassed by anything. No telling what all the women are planning for this adult party my wives are talking about.

Before he realized it, his relaxed state lulled him to sleep.

ATLANTA GEORGIA

Earlier, newly promoted SAC Matt Grigsby had stumbled out of bed. Leaning a little over the commode, one hand propped against the wall, he drained his bladder. After shaking his dick, he let the lid down, flushed, scratched his head and started the shower.

The water stung as it hit the head of his dick. Grasping his cock, he looked down at it. The head was red and seemed swollen, although his cock was otherwise flaccid. How many times have I come since yesterday morning? We must have fucked at least three times that I had no come at all when I orgasmed; I just didn't have anything left. She was insatiable. Somehow, my dick kept getting back up, even when I couldn't produce semen. The woman could give a dead man a hard-on.

Courtney came in to sit on the commode. A moment later she hissed out sharply as urine hit her swollen labia. "Are you as sore as I am?"

Matt chuckled from the shower. "Let's just say that I'm washing that part of my body very carefully this morning. You okay?"

"Yeah," she said as she gently blotted herself with a handful of tissue, "but I think I'm pretty much broken for the day. I'm afraid that blowjobs are going to have to wait, too. My neck is sore. And your tongue?"

Matt leaned into the shower to wet his hair before applying shampoo. "My jaw and tongue are probably like your neck muscles. I don't remember ever spraining my tongue before," he said after sticking his tongue out to check and wincing in the process.

Husband and wife chuckled for a moment, then as Courtney got into the shower with Matt, she pulled his head down and kissed him. "I'm sorry I left you, Baby. I was just so scared that you would be killed like my father. Maybe when we get to Denver and things get settled down, I can see a psychiatrist or therapist. Your getting the promotion has taken away a lot of the worry, but I'm still..."

"Upset," he offered.

"Yeah."

"Do I have to worry..."

Courtney hugged him hard. "No. No, I won't ever leave you again. I've already promised that. But I know that I'm still screwed up to some extent. My dad's death followed me throughout my childhood. Mom never got over it, and I haven't either. But I'll never leave you again, Love. Never. I do reserve the right to worry, though." After a moment, she added, "Maybe a professional can teach me to hold that concern to something resembling normal," she finished with a self-deprecating sigh.

Courtney leaned against him, her face against his shoulder as he worked shampoo into her hair. "I know that Whatley told me to come in at two, but I'm going to get dressed and go see him this morning. We have a lot to talk about, certainly not the least of which is who these people are that rescued us. They came out of nowhere and killed those mercenaries with an ease that I still find hard to believe.

"Colonel Matthews and his Lieutenant just ... appeared in those nurses' kitchen. The back door was standing partway open, and I suppose they walked in, but one moment it was just us in that kitchen, then suddenly they were standing there dripping rainwater on the floor. Whatever they use to make them invisible is ... total. There was absolutely no hint they were there, and our cameras didn't pick up even a ghost of his ... team, as he called them, while they were fighting those mercenaries. Sometimes we could see their targeting lasers and something else that might have been a beam of some kind from their weapons, but that was all.

"Whatley called them in to save us. I have to know more about all this. Remember, Baby," he said as he pushed her back a little to stare at her pretty face, "this has to stay strictly between us. Not even a hint can get out. If it does, you can bet on a demotion for me — at the very least."

Courtney put her hands on either side of her husband's face and tenderly kissed him for a second. "You finally received permission to tell me something, and it was a big something. Number 1: I don't want to get my husband into trouble. Number 2: I know you would never tell me anything else about your job if I let this get out. Number 3: I'm back with my man and I'm not going to mess that up."

Out of the shower, he helped her dry off, both of them feeling as if they were newlyweds. Standing in front of the big mirror in their vanity area, both still nude, she picked up the hair dryer, but hesitated before plugging it in. "Look at my nipples, Honey. I've never seen them as swollen as this. I look like I've been nursing a baby."

"Mmmmm," he said nuzzling her neck, "maybe you have." He reached around her to gently hold her breasts as the two stood looking at each other in the mirror, then lightly tugged on her nipples. "Sore?"

"A little," she admitted. "I have no idea how many times I came with you sucking them. The girls at work would never believe it," she giggled.

"I love giving you orgasms, but I think we're both out of commission for tonight." He motioned to her reflection, "Your pussy looks really sore."

"We'll think of something we can do," she said, turning around to face him. After a moment, "Matt. Please thank Whatley for me. This might never have happened without him. He made me realize what I was losing. I was terrified for you and let my emotions run away with me. I'm ashamed of that. I promise I won't do it again," she finished, sniffing as tears began to flow.

Matt took some tissues out of the box on the counter. Dabbing at the tears on her cheeks as he held her, "I love you and you love me. We're going to make a fresh start in Denver. Now get your pretty butt dressed so you can go talk to your boss. And ... remember, we're going to Denver. If they let you transfer; fine. If they don't, tell her your husband made you quit, and walk out. We're going to start a new life."

"How long will you be?"

"I have no real idea, but probably all day. Whatley said he would tell me some things that I needed to know, and I certainly want to find out about this group that saved our ass. Plus, I have to update the other ASACs so they can take over my cases. I'll call and let you know, okay?"

"Just so I sleep with my husband tonight."

"I'll be here, Baby. I'll be here."



-------

Chapter 145

Diana parked in front of the art supply store. Hope, sitting in the second seat with Ann, started to open her door, but Ann put out a restraining hand. "Let Security do their thing first."

"Are we really in that much danger?"

Diana spoke up from the driver's seat. "We didn't go into details when we told you about the attack, and no, we don't expect it to happen again, but we didn't expect that attack, either. And, yeah, it's an irritant having to have Security everywhere we go, but they're nice people and they think Jeff is handed down by God. We're part of his family, so they protect us just like they do him. You'll get used to the routines, and ... there are plusses."

"Plusses?"

Diana chuckled. "We don't have to worry about having someone snatching one of our purses when we go shopping, and with the extra vehicles, we have plenty of room for packages."

At a nod from one of the security people, Diana said, "That meant everything is fine. We can go in now."

Selina grabbed Diana's hand as soon as they were out of the Escalade. As they turned to walk the few feet to the front door of the store, "I have never perused an art supply store. Thank you for allowing me to accompany you."

Diana smiled down at the little genius. "Certainly."

Inside, Hope turned down an aisle with Arlene, Ann and Jennie trailing after. Selina stayed with Diana as the owner approached them. "Good morning. How may I assist you?"

Diana smiled at the slender woman of about forty years. "Perhaps I should set your mind at ease. The men you see are our security people. We had a bit of trouble awhile back, so they go everywhere we go now."

The owner smiled back. "I know who you are, Mrs. Matthews, but I appreciate your concern. Now, how may I help you?"

Diana, amazed that the woman had known who she was, hesitated for a second, but followed up with, "Hope there," the Queen said nodding to the girl at the other end of the aisle, "is a budding artist. She has a truly awesome talent for sketching, and we need supplies for that, but ... while we're here, we want to give her the opportunity to expand into other things. I know that she has used some very inexpensive chalks, and has done some sketching, but we want to give her the opportunity to try other media, should she wish."

"I would be glad to assist in her choices," the woman started.

"Hmmm, let's leave the girls to their own devices for now. Jennie, Arlene and Ann are obviously already helping, and I'm sure Selina will have some ideas, too," Diana finished as she nodded toward Selina, who had walked over to the end of the store and stood looking at the display there. When Diana saw the look on the art store owner's face, the Queen continued, "She looks like a little girl. But do not treat her like a child. Her IQ is probably more than yours and mine combined, and that isn't an exaggeration."

"Oh, my goodness," the owner said.

"Exactly," Diana chuckled.

As Hope left the pen section, Ann and Jennie hurried to the front of the store, and came back with two shopping carts.

"What are those for?" Hope asked. "We certainly won't require that much space for the little I need."

"So what do you need?" Arlene asked.

"Uh, just some pencils and sketch pads."

"Like these?" Arlene asked as she held up a beautiful wooden, two tier case with a hundred and twenty colored pencils.

A look of embarrassment crossed Hope's face when she saw what Arlene had. "I don't need all of those..." Then she saw the one hundred twenty-nine dollar and ninety-nine cent price tag. "Oh, my gosh; that is way too expensive."

Arlene opened the beautiful wooden case that displayed the pencils very provocatively. Each pencil was a slightly different shade than the one beside it — a hundred and twenty of them. Hope reached out to touch the pencils for a second. "They're beautiful..."

Arlene closed the case and put it in the shopping cart.

"We can't..."

"Done deal," Arlene said, smiling. "What else?"

Ann picked up a box of erasers. "You're bound to need these as you sketch from Art's memory."

"I only need a couple," Hope said.

Two big boxes of the most expensive erasers went into the cart.

Selina brought over a Sable Water Color brush.

"Oh, I only got a chance to try water colors once when I was at a friend's house." Again, she looked at the price tag, and put her hand to her mouth, hissing in a breath. "Oh, my goodness, that can't be," she said looking at the two hundred and sixty dollar price tag on the one brush. "Surely, it's part of a set. Even so, I can't possibly..."

"The price is correct," Selina replied. "There are multiple rows of brushes in many sizes and configurations. The prices range from ten dollars to this one at two hundred and sixty dollars."

Diana had walked over. Leaning down, she whispered in Selina's ear. The six-year-old grinned, replied, "Certainly My Queen," and hurried to the front of the store where she acquired a shopping cart. Returning to the brush rack, she proceeded to carefully select one of every type and size there, plus a beautiful case to hold them all.

Hope turned to Arlene, Ann and Jennie who were busily selecting the most expensive of anything Hope appeared to notice. "I don't need all that. I mean I really appreciate the thought, but all I need are a few pencils and some sketch paper."

"So you really don't want to try water colors or paint?" Arlene asked.

"Oh, I would love to, and maybe sometime we can go to Wal-Mart and get a few things for me to try water colors. This store is much too expensive."

Arlene reached to take both of Hope's hands. "Remember when Dad welcomed you to the family and said you were home now?"

"Uh, yes. Sure I do..."

"Hope, he meant every word he said — literally. He welcomed you home. You're one of us now — family — in every sense of the word. You have the right to anything that our family has — well, other than my husband," she corrected with a grin.

"But..."

"Oh come on. You're Jennie's sister. We've known each other all our lives, and you like my Dad, don't you?"

"You know I do. He has been nice to me for as long as I can remember, but this is too much. I don't even know if I can paint or not. I used some cheap water colors once — one time."

"And did you like it?" Arlene asked.

"Oh, I loved it, but this store is way too expensive."

"It's not," Arlene insisted. "They have quality merchandise — not junk. Look, Dad gave us instructions to set you up with everything an artist could possibly want. He was very emphatic about that. Not that he needed to remind us, but maybe I need to say this. God has been good to us. Daddy will earn more in the next hour than you could possibly spend in here during that period of time, even if we stripped the store bare. Remember the two paramedics that came to help you?"

"Vaguely," Hope responded. "I think I was pretty much out of it."

"Well, they were fired from the fire department because they broke some rules in saving Art. If those men had not broken the rules, Art would have died. Our foundation set them up with a free trip through college with all expenses paid, and a very generous stipend as well. They saved an Alpha. They want to be doctors, and now they'll have a chance to do just that. You're going to help the FBI identify some of the people Art saw while he was working undercover."

"I didn't know about those paramedics, but I still feel guilty about what you've already put in that cart."

Jennie had stood listening but hadn't said anything. Now, she grabbed her sister and hugged her. "I felt the same way when Melissa and I came out here. But I'm one of Jeff's wives now. What Arlene has told you is the truth. We have anything we want. Oh, we don't waste money. Hey, we frequently make a stew out of our leftovers, but we can buy anything we need. Please, do as Arlene says and put anything you're at all interested in into the cart. If you don't do that, Diana will probably do something drastic like buying a case of everything in the store."

It turned out to be almost that, anyway. Everything that Hope seemed to notice went into a shopping cart.

Diana went over and spoke quietly with Selina for a moment. The little genius grinned and pushed her cart over to the book rack. A little later, Diana saw Selina struggling to turn her overfilled cart, and hurried in that direction to help, but Carter, already having noticed, beat her there with an empty cart. "Allow me, Ma'am," the big man said to the child as he took the laden cart and gave Selina the empty one.

"I really appreciate your assistance, Sir," Selina returned with a curtsy.

In addition to the expensive brushes, Selina was choosing one of every art book on the shelves. Now with an empty cart, she continued with her book selections. Carter, grinning from ear to ear, pushed the cart to the register where a shocked clerk began scanning items.

When Selina finished with the books, Carter took that cart to the register, while Selina sought out Diana. "My Queen, "Perhaps you should remind Hope, she will require an easel and palette."

"Would you select them for her?" Diana asked with a smile. "I'm sure you will select quality, of course."

Selina, reading Diana loud and clear, responded, "I would be delighted." Motioning to Carter who was on the way back with another empty cart, the little genius marched over to the easel displays. "That one there," she told the big man."

Carter, enjoying himself, loaded the easel and waited for further instructions.

An hour and a half later, Diana backed the SUV out of the parking place. "Shall we stop by The Kitchen and get a bite to eat?"

"Yeah, Mom," Arlene said.

A stunned Hope didn't even hear either of them as she sat clutching the bag containing the set of fine pencils that she was already beginning to cherish. A lone tear slid down her cheek. "Thank you, Diana. Thank all of you. I'll thank Jeff when we get back to ... uh, home. But I don't deserve this..."

"Welcome home, Hope."

The lone tear was joined by others. Jennie, sitting beside Hope, pulled her younger sister into her arms. "You're safe now. No one will ever hurt you again. If anyone should try, my husband will kill them."

That made the tears worse, so Diana pulled over to wait. Finally, tears dried up and makeup put back in order, they pulled back onto the main highway. Shortly, they turned into the lot of The Kitchen.

When they got out of their vehicles, after Security had cleared the area, Diana turned to Hope. "They have the best corned beef hash I've ever put in my mouth. You might want to try it." Then turning to the nearest security trooper, "I'm buying, and we're in no hurry. So make sure all of you get to eat."

When the Matthews had gone inside the little restaurant, the trooper turned to his buddy. "Told you this was the best damn job in the world."

"Got that right. But I wouldn't want to be in the same state with Colonel Matthews if we let something happen to his women."

"Got that right," his buddy said, throwing the same words back.

-------

Jeff, Dave and Evie were just finishing up with their morning meeting, much later than usual, the first the three had managed in several days with all that had been happening. Art stopped at the doorway for a moment when he noticed that Evie had a pad in her hand and was writing what he assumed were notes.

Dave saw the young Alpha and waved him in. "Come on, Art. We're through."

" ... Not that it would have mattered," Jeff quickly inserted. "There's nothing we do that is a secret from our brother Alphas."

Evie motioned to the serving cart near them. "Coffee, soft drinks and home-baked cinnamon rolls. Help yourself."

Embarrassed at his constant hunger, even though Jeff had warned him he would have a ferocious appetite, Art grinned self-consciously as he took a plate from the cart and put a cinnamon roll on it, wanting to add a second roll but embarrassed to do so. Instead, he poured a cup of coffee. Evie got up, smiled at him, and added another roll to his plate.

"Alphas eat a lot, and just after being enhanced you probably feel as if you can't get full, no matter what you do. My husband was certainly that way, and he still eats more than two normal men ever could. Eat up. Oh, and I'm sure you've been told, but to reiterate, there are always snacks in the third refrigerator in the kitchen. Some require heating in a microwave; others are ready to eat. Plus there are always cakes and cookies on the counter."

When the agent had thanked Evie and sat, Jeff commented, "As I've said before, your body is growing right now, among other things that are happening to it, much of which I freely admit I don't understand. The Ship and Little One corrected many things in your body, but there are other systems that will take much longer for the process to complete. Alphas need more energy to support those systems and changes.

"I have only a vague idea where this all leads. My changes, as well as those of Diana and Arlene, came about more slowly because the Ship and the healer had to learn our physiology and also the Healer didn't have the energy she needed. Even with her improved power source, some of the enhancements require time to complete. Our bodies supply the energy for the continuing process. Now, her own systems have been expanded and augmented far beyond what she was capable of when I took her home to Georgia to heal Diana's ankle.

"The Ship not only healed Arlene, but apparently did an ... uh, upgrade to Little One, although that is a very crude way to describe what the Ship did. Little One was in the process of enhancing her own ability to tap the energy of the dimensions when everything tried to go to hell around here, and she had to abort her efforts. But it seems that the Ship took care of her update while she was in the healing chamber with Arlene. Thus, the enhancement process is much faster now.

"As an Alpha, you need to make sure your women don't try to hold back their eating, either. Their bodies are undergoing, basically, what yours is."

Art took his cinnamon rolls and coffee and sat near the others. A bite of the home-cooked roll produced a sigh of pleasure before he took a sip of coffee. "My uh..."

"Mates," Evie offered.

" ... uh, yeah, my mates are already worrying they will gain weight even though Diana has told them they won't. This, uh ... all this is like a dream. Bobby said she woke up last night worrying she would wake and find she had been dreaming. All three of us are waiting for the other shoe to drop, I suppose."

Evie let out a sexy little laugh. "No dream, but yeah, we know what you mean. Now, what are you and your mates wearing to our private Halloween party?"

"Uh, I don't really know. They showed me some costumes that practically embarrassed me to death, but I'm almost sure they were teasing me with them — almost. I finally told them that I would wear whatever they ordered for me. I'm hoping that wasn't a mistake."

Evie grinned at him, which made him wonder if she knew more about the situation than he did. "Oh yeah," she said, "something else you need to know. If you drink, and are like the rest of us, you'll find that anything with alcohol in it will taste very bad, indeed. If the taste thing hasn't started yet, it probably will in the near future. But we'll think of some ways to liven up the party without booze."

"Well, I was never much of a drinker until I started hanging out with the slavers' muscle 24/7. Those goons I had to live with knew every low-life bar in the Atlanta area. At Quantico they told us how many agents had been fired for things they had done while intoxicated. To say that the instructors stressed moderation in drinking is an understatement. Come to think of it, I don't think Bobby and Sandra drink at all. At least they haven't mentioned anything about it."

Evie smiled at Art. "There's wine and beer in the kitchen, as well as a big wine cellar in the basement with most anything you could possibly want along those lines, should you decide to try something."

Jeff entered the conversation with, "Apparently, our enhancements won't allow alcohol, yet the enhancement hasn't stopped Diana, Arlene and Laura from occasionally smoking. Little One tells me that our enhanced bodies will compensate for some smoking, but apparently alcohol interferes with some of the processes in our bodies, and is verboten. Unless you can get by the taste," he finished with a chuckle.

"Well," Art said. "Looks like we'll have a pretty tame Halloween party..."

He didn't see the look that passed between Evie and her husband. "Don't count on it," she giggled. "Oh, we can get into mischief without being drunk. Trust me on that."

-------

Jeff sat in his office, leaning back with his feet on his desk as he talked with General Whitworth on the secure SAT phone. Whitworth had just revealed one of his FBI sources to Jeff. "Whatley tells me that Grigsby has been promoted and is transferring to Denver to take over the office there."

"Good," Jeff said. "Another Alpha close to home."

"Yes, I thought you would be pleased with that. Whatley says he would trust him with his life — and has already. He said he would have been dead without Grigsby's intervention. You do know that after you and your team saved Grigsby and his people, you have a friend for life even if he were not an Alpha?"

Jeff, not wanting to hear praise for something he did, when the praise should go to his team — at least in his opinion — sighed in frustration. "Yeah, I guess." After a moment, he went on, "Those ... slavers seem to have sources everywhere. It didn't take them long to locate Art..."

The General broke in with, "Money talks."

"Yeah, I guess so. My point being, and stating the obvious, we have to be extremely careful that there aren't any ties that could be used to trace Art and his women. He thinks the FBI will provide new identities for the three of them, and he's anxious to gain access to his salary that they have been holding for him for over a year. He's too fucking proud to take..."

"And you're not?" Whitworth teased.

"Hell, you know what I mean. And his women are the same way, according to Diana. But I'm afraid that any contact with the FBI will provide all the information the slavers will need to locate Art. You just said yourself that Whatley suspects there is a leak in the Atlanta office. Shit, with the money this bunch apparently commands, there are probably several leaks."

"And you think they can get by your Security?"

"Oh, hell no. A group of mercenaries coming in here would just be target practice for Security. But I don't want Art and his women to have to be here every minute of their lives. That would be like putting them in jail — a damn nice jail, true, but a jail, nevertheless."

After a moment, the General continued, "Whatley says that after the attack at the hospital, he narrowed the possibilities down to nine, excluding his bosses. After the attack at the nurses' home, he narrowed it to four who knew where Hanes was. That, of course, is also excluding the agents and techs at the house during the attack. But ... we both know that the leak could have been one of the people there. The slavers could have told their informant that he or she would be spared during the attack, but, of course, the informant would have died with everyone else. Those people care nothing for human life. Hell, they traffic in it."

Jeff let out a muffled, "Ouch. That hurts."

"What's up?" Whitworth asked, almost certain he knew already, having heard the purr.

"I'm kitten-sitting. I'm leaning back in my chair with him sitting on my chest."

"So what was the 'ouch' for?"

"He's kneading dough, as Diana calls it, and those tiny claws are sharp as needles. No, Billy," the Prime said as he gently squeezed the kitten's foot. When Billy immediately began kneading again, Jeff squeezed harder, repeating the "No," in a firmer voice.

"Mmmeow," the kitten said, looking Jeff in the face.

"No! That hurts."

Astonishing Jeff, the kitten again pushed his front feet against Jeff's tee shirt clad chest, kneading in a rhythmic manner, but now his claws remain retracted.

"Well, I'll be dammed."

"What?"

"I think he understood me. At least he quit sticking his claws into me."

"So why are you kitten-sitting?"

"Selina went with Diana, Hope, Arlene, Ann and Jennie to buy art supplies for Hope, so I got 'volunteered' to kitten-sit. After Billy got out of his kennel so mysteriously, I told Selina to keep him with her as much as possible until we can figure out what happened. Taking him into the art supply store wouldn't be a particularly good idea, so I wound up with him.

"Anyway, it turns out that Hope has a fantastic talent for sketching. After Art and I talked, he agreed to put off getting in touch with Whatley to set up a meeting with a sketch artist. Unfortunately, the meeting with the artist would provide a link that we don't need, so I'm anticipating that Hope can do the sketches, herself. She said she was willing to try."

"Just because Hope can sketch doesn't mean she can do the things a trained sketch artist can do, though. You do know there are kits on the market that will produce a decent likeness, don't you? Training for the kits only takes a few hours."

"Yeah, I've not only seen the kits they use, and the computer programs that do basically the same thing, but I've seen the results, too. Nothing else can produce what a talented sketch artist can. And yeah, I'm aware that trying to sketch a face from someone else's memory requires a certain amount of training, and talent that Hope might not have. She certainly doesn't have any training in sketching a face from another person's memory, but General, her sketch of me is ... astonishing. It literally looks like a black and white picture of me. The detail is beyond incredible, and she did it in five minutes while talking to us about other things. But ... is obtaining the sketches of these people Art saw worth the risk to Art and his women? Right now, the connection between the FBI and Art ended when he stepped through that hatch on the Ship. If Hope can't do this, I'm very leery about trying it with an outside sketch artist who has ties to the FBI.

"And there's another thing. Even if we mail the sketches from Denver or somewhere else, there would be a link, however tentative, but it would still exist. These people have proven their resourcefulness. They have learned things that they shouldn't have been able to discover. You and I both know there has to be someone else high up in the FBI's organization who is in the slaver's pocket."

The General's voice hardened. "Well, I know a group of people who haven't sold their guts to the slavers. My people. And ... they'll stay loyal because of the blocks — if for no other reason. I also have resources that are quite capable of creating ironclad identities that will withstand the most detailed background check. You need to get me pictures for IDs, and all the particulars of the three of them. But Hanes' money sets off warning flags in my mind. The same for the nurses. Getting untraceable access to the nurses' accounts will be easy enough, but there's no telling where the FBI stashed Hanes' salary. If ... they even deposited it anywhere. Chances are they simply held his money in their own account."

"We could put money in an account when your people create new identities ... But there's also the thing about federal and state income tax come April fifteenth," Jeff said. "The last damn thing we need is the income tax people getting involved."

"I can handle that. Hanes just has to 'die.' That's a matter my computer gurus can handle — have handled several times in the past when we needed a scientist to disappear in order for him to come work for us."

"Why don't we do this?" Jeff said. "Suppose you contact Whatley and see if he has an estimate of how much money is waiting for Art. Make sure he understands that he should only give us his best guess, and not contact anyone in Denver to look it up. That would indicate that Hanes is still alive."

"You could just ask Hanes..." the General started.

"Hanes is a sharp guy. As soon as I ask how much money the FBI owes him, and he suddenly has access to that money under an assumed name, he's going to put things together and wonder why I was asking about a total. Diana had a hard enough time getting Art's women to order Halloween costumes and wedding clothing for the three of them. The nurses started a file where they listed everything we have spent on them. The three of them plan to pay us back as soon as they have access to their funds."

Frustrated, Jeff continued, "I've got money coming out my ass, and Art is an Alpha. I'm supposed to take care of my Alphas, dammit, but I know better than to try to offer him money."

The General chuckled as he waited for Jeff to continue.

"Look, Sir, please try to get a ballpark figure for me. I'll transfer the money to you and you can have your people put it in Art's new account. Let's see the bastards find him through that."

"That'll work. And ... e-mail me Hope's sketches when she gets around to doing them. I'll e-mail them to Whatley. I can guaranfuckingtee no one will trace those files back to us," he laughed, "and anyone who tries better have a really good virus detection program."

-------

Diana and the girls were back from the art supply store and had just gotten their purchases unloaded, storing most of them in the suite next to Hope's. Shortly, in the classroom, Hope sketched a bust of Helen and shaded her work with the colored pencils. In a surprisingly short period of time, Helen held what almost appeared to be a photograph of herself. With a thump, Doctor Boswell sat down in a chair, unable to take her eyes off the sketch. "I've never seen anything that remotely approached this," she very quietly said, apparently thinking aloud.

-------

Jeff and Billy were sitting in the living room when the computer activated the TV and announced that an UPS truck had just turned into the drive, followed by a FedEx truck. The drivers, accustomed to Security, opened their trucks to the quick walk-through. Cleared, the trucks started up the drive.

Knowing the women had ordered costumes, the Prime stood and walked over to the door to tell them the deliveries had arrived, Billy trotting along beside him. But there was no need for Jeff to have gotten up. They must have told the computer to notify them,  Jeff thought as a herd of women and girls hurried past. Laura stepped out of the kitchen with two large go-cups that she handed to Arlene.

"Mmmm, that hot chocolate smells good," Arlene said as she took the cups and dashed after the others.

"Mmeeeow," Billy said, looking down the hall to where his mistress was hurrying with the others.

Jeff noticed the kitten's nose twitching. "Are you smelling titty milk, or hot chocolate, Little Dude?"

"Mmeeeow."

"Yeah, I like them both myself," the Prime laughed.



-------

Chapter 146

Jerry, the FedEx driver followed Dorothy (Dot) in her UPS truck. When they circled around to the back of the Retreat, he stopped to let Dot back her truck toward the steps, then he backed alongside her.

Driving up the mountain is a slow process, though the scenery is awesome,  he thought, and the driveway is downright terrifying, but reaching the Matthews' home always makes the trip worth it.

Somehow these people have learned our full names and even our birthdays. I was here three days before my birthday. They had a little cake with one candle on it, and a card with a hundred dollar bill in it. I had the cake eaten before I got off the mountain, and that hundred dollars came in handy. These people are obviously rich, but even so, they help me unload. Dot told me they did the same thing for her. They have an iced drink ready for us in the summer and hot chocolate or coffee now that it's winter on the mountain. And ... Dot might not appreciate it like I do, but the eye candy is amazing,  he thought as the women and girls came out the back door of the Retreat.

Arlene handed Jerry his hot chocolate as soon as he turned the truck off and opened the door. "Hey, Jerry."

"Good afternoon Ma'am, and thank you." He took a sip. "Boy, that tastes good. I have quite a few packages for you today."

"Mostly Halloween costumes," Arlene said as they walked around to the back.

"Hi, Jerry," Dot called out to her counterpart.

"Hey, Dot."

Ann waited until Dot had opened the rear door of her truck before handing her the cup of hot chocolate. Dot thanked her and took a sip before sitting the cup on the bumper. Both drivers stepped into their vehicles and handed out packages to laughing women and girls. In short order the packages had been delivered and the trucks were rolling back down the mountain. Not far from Martha's restaurant, Dot pulled over at a wide place in the road and Jerry pulled over beside her. They opened their doors so they could talk for a minute.

"The ride up is a bitch, but it beats stopping at twenty-one houses to deliver the twenty-one packages I just delivered to them," Dot said when his door was open next to hers.

"I only had fifteen," Jerry said, "but several of them were really large. But I agree; unloading is easy. Just shove it to the back and they take care of the rest. I didn't see Mr. Matthews today, though."

"Oh, he came to the door for a moment with a kitten on his shoulder."

"Rumor has it all those women are his. Think that's true, Dot?"

Dot finished the last of her chocolate. "Don't know, but like you say, it's a fun place to deliver to. I haven't been bitched at yet, and they all call me 'Ma'am.' They've spoiled me, though. I can't wait for Christmas. They gave each of us a hundred bucks for our birthday and I'll bet they do something nice for Christmas, too."

"Don't count your presents before they hatch," Jerry laughed. "But I hope you're right. My wife had her hours cut back due to this recession, or whatever the politicians are calling it this week. Christmas is going to be slender this year if they keep her at twenty hours a week. I've been trying to get her on with us, but we're not hiring right now, either."

Dot dropped the Styrofoam cup into the small trash can beside her seat. "At least she's working some. Ralph has been out of work for a month. Guess how our Christmas is going to be."

"Crap. Sorry about that, Dot. That really sucks." Then after a moment, "Guess we better roll. Take care. See you," he said, closing his door and pulling away.

-------

Inside the Retreat there was the bustle of women and girls carrying packages, or pushing laden hand trucks as they hurried by. Jeff had come to the back door to help, but Diana told him he wasn't needed, which was shorthand for "this is woman business."

Adult Halloween party,  he thought as he walked back down the hall toward the living room. I hope they don't get too carried away with it. Nat, Nicki and Whitney have never been exposed to anything like that, and Hope surely doesn't need to be. Technically she was a prostitute; she was forced by that shithead father of hers to do those things. Even as he thought about the adult party, the logical part of his mind intervened. Diana would never let things get out of hand. Selina has told us how she sneaked around, particularly at night when she was supposed to be in bed. No way will Di chance Selina seeing something she shouldn't.

"What're you thinking about?" Diana asked as she walked into him with a slight bump, pressing her breasts against his chest. Reaching up to scratch behind Billy's ears as he rode Jeff's shoulder, she continued, "Why such a long face? You thinking about your sexy costume for tomorrow night?"

Before he could answer, she pulled his head down and kissed him. Without further ado, she strutted on down the hall. Today, she had worn her hair in a ponytail that arched up from high on the back of her head before falling almost to her butt, just as the younger wives were wont to do much of the time. The long thick spray of auburn hair swayed in time to her steps as she pranced away while Jeff wondered.

-------

Inside Art's suite, Bobby and Sandra put two big boxes in the corner of the walk-in closet. "That's a surprise," they said in unison.

" ... so stay out of them, please," Bobby finished for them.

"You didn't really do that, did you?" Art asked.

"Do what?" Sandra said, looking all innocent. "The paint is water soluble. It washes right off, or at least the instructions say it will."

Art's heart rate picked up. I know they're teasing me. Surely they're teasing me. There is no way I'm going to wear a painted-on outfit, crotch guard or not. Besides, that thing glues on. No frigging way am I going to stick something onto my groin. Glue and crotch hair don't mix, and there's no damn way I'm going to shave there. Shit.

The sisters finished with their packages and came up to him as he now stood in the doorway between the sitting room and the bedroom. "What's the matter, Big Man? You're not going all bashful on us are you?"

"Ladies..."

"Oh, come on, Spoil Sport. You're gonna like your costume and you're going to love ours."

"Yeah, but sprayed on..."

"We promise," they said together.

"Now go visit with Jeff, or take a walk. We need a little time alone," Bobby said.

"Time alone?"

"Yeah, we need to try on our costumes. We promise you'll love tomorrow night after we get home from the trunk or treat," Sandra said.

"Trunk or treat? You mean trick or treat don't you?"

"No silly," they said in unison.

"It's trunk or treat," Sandra said. "You'll find out about it tomorrow night. Now get, Lover. We have things to do," she finished as the nurses, laughing, pushed him toward the door.

What the crap is trunk or treat? he wondered as the suite's door closed behind him. Hell, at this point I'm almost afraid to find out.

-------

Arlene and Selina came hurrying into the living room where Jeff was sitting. "We need Billy, Dad."

"Need Billy? Uh, he's there by the window."

"Come here, Billy," Selina called.

"Mmeeow," the kitten said, bounding over.

"Careful about volunteering, Little Dude. You never know what women have in mind, and this doesn't sound good," Jeff said to the kitten as if he could understand.

Billy turned to look at Jeff, but Arlene grabbed the kitten to hold him up in front of her, turning him this way and that as she looked at him. "Yeah, this will be great. Let's go."

In the hallway, Arlene stretched her steps as Selina jogged along beside her. Shortly, they turned into the Matthews' suite. "We got him, Mom," Arlene said as they hurried into the bedroom.

"Good, I found some bright red vinyl material for the cape, and something that I think will make some realistic horns. Let's get him measured."

But Billy didn't want to be measured, and took great offense to the tape measure. When they tried to measure him, he batted at the tape, then twisted and knotted into a ball, trying to escape. Frustrated, Diana turned to her mother. "Mom, it's your turn."

"My turn for what?" Then Susan realized what Diana meant. "No. Absolutely not. No way am I going to ... I don't even like cats."

"This isn't a cat. He's a kitten," Diana said. "There's a saucer on the vanity. We only need a small amount; just enough to keep him busy for a couple of minutes while I measure him. He hasn't had his milk today."

"No. No. No! I am not going to milk myself for a cat."

"Meemi, are you going to deny my kitten?" Selina said in her little girl voice that she reserved for very special occasions.

Susan stared down at the child who appeared ready to cry. "I know what you're doing, and it isn't going to work," she said, but there was a tinge of desperation in her voice, for she knew she couldn't deny Selina if she started to cry.

"Please," Selina whined.

"Don't you dare start crying," Susan tried to grump. After a moment, "Oh, all right. I haven't expressed myself today, anyway. Somebody get me the saucer."

Selina hastened to get the saucer. When she brought it, she hugged Susan. "Thank you, Meemi."

Susan smiled in spite of trying not to. "I still don't like cats," she said as she pulled her top up and began to express her milk. Selina winked at Diana.

Arlene realized that Susan hadn't tried to hide what she was doing from Selina. Oh, well, Selina is female, and she acts so grown up it's hard to think of her as a child, and what Meemi is doing certainly isn't sexual.

Arlene was now holding a very interested kitten. As soon as the first stream of milk hit the saucer, he began to windmill his legs in an effort to get to the milk. "Mmmmmeeeeowww," he said, drawing out the sound.

Shortly, he was lapping Susan's milk and ignoring the measuring tape that Diana was using.

-------

Jeff had called Dave and Evie in for a conference. After they were seated by the fire in the living room, Jeff began. "I talked with General Whitworth a short while ago. He has contacted his FBI source in Atlanta and has learned that Grigsby, the agent who was in charge of the group protecting Art, is now assigned to head up the FBI office in Denver, and will be in the Denver area in the next few days looking for a house. Apparently, he has had some marriage problems, but he and his wife are back together now."

"This is the Alpha, right?" Dave asked.

"Yeah, and I want him as near to us as possible. Maybe somehow get him situated on this side of Denver. I want to have Little One enhance him and his wife. That might very well help us to gain another contact in the FBI, and this one will be much closer to home. Not to say anything about the responsibility I feel toward another Alpha."

Dave and Evie looked at each other. Breaking out in laughter, Evie looked first at her husband, then at Jeff.

"What?" Jeff said, a half smile on his face as he wondered what she was laughing at.

Evie mimicked a kiss at her husband and said, "We bought another house a couple of weeks ago, and ... my husband said it was a good deal, but I couldn't see how we could make enough money on the house to bother. He always does things like that. We always make money when he's so certain we will, but with the economy the way it is, I can't see how we are going to do more than break even this time."

"Oh, come on, Baby," Dave said. "I've lucked up a few times when I've had my feelings, but you've seen things that I overlooked, too."

"I've heard all this before, so will you two quit that, and tell me what's going on," Jeff said, laughing.

Now giggling, Evie turned back to Jeff. "My husband insisted on buying a very nice house twenty-five miles or so from Denver. On this side of Denver. The owner took a job as CEO in a company in New York, and he and his wife had to move in a hurry. We found out about the move from one of our foreman's wives. To shorten the story, we stopped in to see the owners before they had even talked to a realtor. We agreed on a price, and bought the place. We could have offered less, since he was in a bind to sell, and he would probably have taken it, but we're not going to make money by cheating someone. We don't do business that way."

Evie reached over to take her husband's hand. "We've never intentionally cheated anyone. We've lost money a couple of times because we screwed up our bid, or the price of materials increased, but we finished the projects the way we promised. For years now, we've had to turn away work from time to time. Our company has an excellent reputation and that reputation has brought us a lot of work."

Dave spoke up. "The house is really nice, and it sits on two acres. The down side is that it's ten years old. We have crews repainting the inside, putting in all new top-of-the-line kitchen appliances, new counters, modernizing the bathrooms, putting in new carpets, and refinishing the hardwood floor in the dining room, plus updating a couple of other things. When we've completed the work, the house will be like new, but ... unless I miss my guess about, uh..."

"Grigsby," Jeff offered.

" ... uh, about what Grigsby earns, this house is going to be outside his income range. It's a really nice house and huge. But if he's an Alpha, I would love for him to get it. Maybe we can work something out, or maybe he makes more than I think he does." Dave looked at Evie and a silent agreement passed between them.

"Uh, since he's an Alpha, between what you are overpaying us, and the jobs we've had lately, we can afford to take a loss on the property..."

Jeff interrupted with, "We'll work something out. I need to get back in touch with the General and have him call Whatley. Grigsby needs to know there is a nice home waiting for him when he gets out here. Of course, he and his wife might not like the house..."

Evie chuckled. "Fat chance, Trust me. His wife would have to be brain dead to not like the place. It's a very nice house, and the view is terrific, too."

Jeff got to his feet, grabbed Dave and gave him a man hug, then took Evie in his arms and kissed her forehead. "You two always come through for me. Thank you. Catch you later," he finished as he hurried out the door on his way to his office.

"You know what he's going to do, don't you, Baby?" Evie asked her husband.

"Going to call the General..."

"Just watch. He's going to subsidize the house. No matter what we say, we'll wind up making a profit on the property, and this guy, uh, Grigsby, will be able to afford it. But you wouldn't have made a profit on it without Jeff," Evie said, wagging a finger at her husband.

Dave threw her over his shoulder. "Eeeep," she squealed. "Put me down. I have things to do."

"Yep, you sure do, Babe. You sure do," he laughed, "and it involves come in your pussy," he finished as he walked out into the hall and turned toward their apartment.

-------

Frank, Bill and Jeff, laughing and joking, walked into the living room. They were barely seated when Selina came in carrying a package that UPS had delivered earlier, her kitten on her shoulder, his tinkling ball stuck to the side of his mouth as always.

"What do you have there?" Bill asked, smiling at the six-year-old.

"A present for Billy," the little genius replied as she put the package on the floor and knelt beside it. Taking a box cutter from the pocket of her jeans, she carefully extended the blade and slit the tape that held the box closed. Retracting the blade, she laid the box cutter on the floor near her. Shortly, she had unpacked a circular object approximately ten inches in diameter.

As soon as she pulled the clear plastic wrapping away, the object, accordion-like, expanded into a tunnel ten inches in diameter and three feet long. The outer covering of the tunnel was a beige material, probably nylon, the inner sheath a thin, but strong liner, a dull red in color. The manufacturer called the liner a "pet sheet," indicating that it was resistant to claws and hard use. To make the tunnel more appealing to a cat, the area between the outer and inner areas was filled with something that crinkled loudly when the tunnel was hit or touched. There was a slow loop of a springy wire between the layers that wound its way from one end of the tunnel to the other, its purpose to keep the tunnel standing open. Halfway down the tunnel, there was a hole a foot long cut out of one side, or top, of the tunnel which provided a third entrance for a cat.

As soon as Selina tossed the tunnel on the floor, with its crashing/crinkly sound, Billy launched himself from the shoulder of the kneeling girl, dropped his ball, and loped over to the tunnel. Cautiously, the tiny kitten approached one end. After a moment of a silent, sniffing inspection, he eased his head inside the opposite end from Selina. As soon as his head was inside, she slapped the tunnel, causing it to crash and rattle. Billy snapped his head back, hissing, his body arching as he seemed to stand on tiptoes. He dashed behind a recliner to hide for a moment, his head peaking around to spy at the "monster."

He fooled no one with his apparent fear, however. He had heard the noise the tunnel made when Selina tossed it on the floor, but pretending there was a monster inside was part of being a cat. Suddenly, he dashed out from behind the recliner, and without hesitating, ran through the tunnel, his little feet causing the crinkling/crashing sound that the tunnel seemed to magnify.

Selina put her hand through the hole in the middle and tapped the side of the tunnel. Billy ran back, crashing through the tunnel to "attack" her hand. Selina giggled and rolled the tunnel over with Billy still inside. He flashed out the other end, did a screaming one-eighty and ran back through the tunnel, making as much noise with his feet as he could.

"I think that's a hit," Frank said as he grinned at the kitten's antics. Shortly, Jeff, unable to stand not being involved in the play, was on his knees at one end of the tunnel while Selina took the opposite end as they played with Billy.

"No more mysterious escapes?" the Prime asked Selina after a few minutes of teasing the kitten.

Selina put the box cutter in her pocket in order to return it to the kitchen drawer where she found it. Smiling at her Prime, she said, "You had him under observation while I attended class, but during the period of time we were in the kitchen preparing and eating lunch, I allowed him to remain free in my suite, rather than confining him to his kennel. I have removed or secured all objects in my suite that would break should he displace them. Up to this point, I have observed him sleeping in the middle of my bed each time I returned to the suite."

"Maybe that will suffice," Jeff remarked as he dangled a piece of string he had found through the center hole in the tunnel. Billy charged into his toy, grabbed the string in his mouth, tugging as he braced and pulled backward as hard as he could. Jeff turned the string loose suddenly, but Billy's reflexes were so fast, he hardly staggered at all. He immediately ran back through the tunnel, dragging the string, which Jeff grabbed, starting a tug of war between the Prime and the tiny kitten.

"I wish to assist in the kitchen. I shall return Billy to my suite."

"Nah, I'll keep an eye on him," Jeff laughed as he looked up at Selina from his position on his knees by the tunnel.

"Are you certain? It is not necessary..."

"No problem," Jeff assured her. "I kinda like our Little Dude. He covers every inch he stands on," he finished, laughing as Billy dived through the center entrance of the tunnel.

"Thank you, my Prime. The women are baking cakes and cookies for our party tomorrow night. I shall endeavor to assist them."

-------

Art had shot some on the range, and shot the bull with Bill for awhile. Assuming Sandra and Bobby had had plenty of time to do whatever it was that required his absence, he returned to their suite. As he stepped inside the sitting room, he stopped. My gosh. What's that smell? He sniffed again, but the barely detected smell wasn't there anymore, or at least he could no longer smell it if it were.

The ventilation system in this ... castle is probably on a par with everything else. It's amazing I smelled anything at all,  he thought. Then it hit him, I smelled my women. Not pussy though. It's not sex I smelled. He sniffed again — nothing. It must be something else, maybe their sweat that I smelled for a second. But what would they be doing in here to make them sweat?

He glanced around again, his training coming to the fore. Things aren't the same,  he thought. Something's a little different. The coffee table is a little more toward the center of the room, and the seats there are a little farther apart than they were. Oh fuck, I'm dreaming. Surely they wouldn't move the furniture, just to put it back in relatively the same place. And why would they be sweating?

Going on into the bedroom, he heard the shower, and as he neared, giggling. Could they be making love to each other? They've hinted that they have done that, but they didn't last night. Damn, I hope they will do that for me. But I don't want to walk in on them and embarrass them if that's what they're doing in there. Making up his mind, he stopped at the doorway and said, "Hey Ladies. Why the shower in the middle of the afternoon?"

The giggling intensified and he walked on in. Bobby was washing Sandra's back, but they didn't look at all guilty. "What's so funny?" he asked, hard pressed not to laugh with them.

They both grabbed him and took turns kissing him, rubbing their soapy breasts against him, wetting his shirt. Wet hands caressed his cock through his pants. His clothes wet anyway, the nurses pulled them off and took turns sucking his cock. They managed to dry off enough to get on the bed without wetting it. Shortly, the women took turns sucking him while he paid homage to their pussies.

Long before he wanted to quit, Bobby and Sandra sat up. "We would love to continue..." they said in unison.

And Bobby went on with, " ... but we promised that we would help out with the baking after we finished."

"Finished? Finished what?" Art got out, his dick throbbing as he watched the women's breasts bobbing and jiggling when they scrambled off the bed to dress. He was not at all pleased that they were going off to the kitchen when his dick was still throbbing for another release.

Both quickly dressing, braless, in shorts and a pullover shirt, Sandra leaned over to kiss his lips while Bobby kissed the head of his dick. Laughing, they were soon out the door.

Art looked down at his rock-hard cock. The women's laughter and good spirits were representative of what they were all feeling. Damn, I've never felt this good in my life, and even after I've just come twice in the last twenty minutes, my dick is as hard as it has ever been. I don't even know how many times I came last night. Prior to all this, I think the most I've ever come was four times in a day, and that was when I was fourteen and jerking off every time I could manage to be alone. I remember my dad kidding me about bankrupting him with our power bill from all the hot water I was using staying in the shower so long. My mom laughed so much I thought she was going to pee on herself. Later, she hugged me and said what I was doing was normal and that they loved me. I'm still embarrassed just thinking about her comment. I had no idea she knew.

Almost without realizing it, he had begun stroking his dick. After a moment, he pulled it down and suddenly turned it loose. It sprang back, and with an audible "spat," whacked against his belly. He looked intently at his dick. Is it longer? It feels different. I swear it's a little thicker. Absently, he began to stroke himself. After a couple of moments of thinking about the bobbing titties he had just seen and played with, he felt it start. Increasing the pace, he sat partway up as his muscles clenched and his cock pulsed, the feeling overwhelming him. Semen shot out as some small part of his brain, not overwhelmed by the orgasm, marveled at how high his come spurted. Before the first glob landed, the second one was on its way.

Wow. No wonder my women seem to choke for a second when I first come in their mouth. The next two spurts were weaker, but the feeling wasn't. Miraculously his come had all landed on his body, so he didn't have to change the sheet. My women didn't spill a drop and I didn't either, he chuckled aloud. But I darn sure need another shower. I think I'll go look in the kitchen and see what everyone is doing.

A few minutes later, whistling, he strolled down the hall and pushed the kitchen door open. Everything came to a screeching halt and all the women turned to look at him, Selina included. "Go," Sandra said, "we'll see you at supper."

She did giggle a bit,  he thought as he did an about-face and hurried out.



-------

Chapter 147

FRIDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 31 — HALLOWEEN

Jeff and Kayla had finished their run, returned and showered. Jeff chatted with Dave, Bill and Frank while Kayla went to help prepare breakfast. A few minutes later, Art came in, got his coffee and sat with the men.

Expecting to be kidded again, he was almost disappointed when no one did. "You guys always have a big Halloween party?"

Jeff shook his head, turning to the new Alpha. "Arlene, Diana and I moved here in June. Everyone else came later — well as part of our group, anyway. Dave and Evie built the Retreat, so they were here while the building was going up, and of course, Frank and Margaret, since they owned the building, came here from time to time for a weekend or for a company function. I told you about Frank and Margaret having included the Retreat as part of the payment for my invention. The Alphas and I have gained our women in the last few months, so we haven't had a Halloween as a group before, if that's what you mean. I don't know about everyone else, but Halloween for Diana, Arlene and me has always been giving out candy to the kids when they knock on the door, and taking Arlene around in an outfit, or going with her when she entered her costume in the school's Halloween contest."

"But they were all in there cooking yesterday. I've never heard of baking for Halloween, at least not where I come from. Sandra and Bobby say there will be a lot more cooking going on today."

Dave leaned back and crossed his legs, his face breaking into a grin. "There's something you gotta remember. These women have been enhanced, just as you have been. In case you haven't noticed," he joked, "they're full of energy. Buying candy or cakes, or whatever they were baking yesterday, would have been too simple. And ... they love to cook. Oh, they have bought some packaged Halloween candy and treats to give to the kids at the trunk or treat, but I suspect we're all in for a treat tonight for our own party. Pun intended," he finished, grinning.

Bill broke in with, "And we love to eat."

Art chuckled, amazed at how relaxed he was around these men. Somehow, they almost did feel like brothers. It was hard to realize he had only known them for a couple of days. "But what are you guys going to wear to the party tonight?"

Jeff shrugged. "My women haven't told me, yet."

Frank, Dave and Bill chuckled, but Art looked worried. "I hope Sandra and Bobby are teasing me, but I'm beginning to really wonder. They keep talking about an 'adult' party. It's not that I'm easily embarrassed, but..."

"I don't think they'll go overboard with the costumes," Jeff said, although his voice didn't convey the assurance that Art had hoped for. Jeff frowned, beginning to worry, himself. "I doubt that our costumes will be that bad. The adult party won't start here until after Selina's bedtime, but she's told us that she used to sneak around and spy on the servants at her home, some of the neighbors, and of course, her parents as well. I could demand that she never do that here, but is it right to restrict a genius in such a trivial thing? Besides, other than sex, we have nothing to hide from her. She's a full member of our family.

"I asked her to go into my lab and the range only when I am present, and we did get her to promise to not enter our bedrooms without knocking first. Also, if she walks in on us making out in another part of the house, she is to immediately leave that area. It's not as if she hasn't seen sex before. She freely admits to having secretly watched porn at her parents' house, and has watched her parents having sex, but she has promised that she won't watch porn here, or spy on us when we're making love. The bottom line, so to speak, is I'm hoping the women won't do anything at the party that Selina shouldn't see, in case she might be sneaking around. That should leave us with most of our dignity," he finished with a sick grin, now more worried than he had been before. Damn, I really don't want to dress up in some ridiculous costume,  he thought.

Art, not convinced at all, said, "Sandra and Bobby were talking about ordering painted on costumes. Admittedly, that female cat costume was something else,  but they talked about me wearing a painted-on outfit, too — a tomcat outfit. Those outfits each have a modesty guard that has to be glued on. They're, uh..." he realized that he was going to say more than he should about his women, and hesitated.

"They won't have the problem with glue that you will," Frank offered.

"I am not shaving my groin," Art responded with a sick grin.

"Maybe they'll help you shave," Bill chuckled.

Dave mimicked holding something up with the thumb and index finger of his left hand while making shaving motions with his right. "Oops," he said with a jerk of the imaginary razor.

Art got a vivid image of one of his women holding his dick up as she shaved around the base of it. Before he could respond, Frank spoke up, "No one is going to get that close to my dick with a razor."

Diana walked into the room a moment later as the men were sniggering. "What are you guys up to?"

Jeff put on an innocent face. "Nothing,  Dear."

His Queen put her hands on her hips to glare at him, but broke out in a grin as the men chuckled. "Well, breakfast is ready to go as soon as Joyce gets here."

As if on cue, the computer announced that Joyce had just turned into the driveway.

-------

Joyce, in her uniform, came into the kitchen, her mood apparently almost bubbling. Diana and Jeff were standing near the door talking. "Hey, Husband," Joyce said as she came up to him, grabbed him behind the neck and kissed him hard.

Turning to Diana, she said, "Hey, Wife," and kissed her the same way.

"Wow," Diana said when Joyce broke the kiss. "You must have had a better night."

"Yep. The fairies must have run out of dumb dust. I only had three domestics, none of which required an arrest, one minor wreck, and a couple of prowler calls. I wound up with more time spent patrolling last night than I have in a while. And ... best of all, I have tonight off." While talking, she "popped" her belt keepers, unhooked her gunbelt and put it and the keepers on the kitchen counter. "Oh, it feels so good to get rid of that weight," she sighed. Turning back to her husband, she grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the steam table. "I'm hungry."

As they were filling their plates, Joyce continued, "The two experienced police officers who transferred from Denver are up to date on our procedures and are no longer with a training officer. They seem to be doing fine. The two deputies who graduated from the academy have to be with their training officers for another couple of weeks, then they will be ready to go on patrol alone. We've hired four other experienced officers now that our pay increase has made our department more competitive salary-wise, and two of them are already on patrol, with the other two having almost completed their orientation. The Lieutenant says that in the near future we're going to have two regular off days a week, and no more double shifts. I'll feel like I'm on vacation."

Spinning around to point a slender finger at her husband, "And don't you start about my quitting. I'm not ready to do that, yet. Besides, I love donating my salary to that orphanage in Denver."

"What?" Nat, Nicki and Whitney said as one.

"You're donating your whole salary?" Whitney asked.

The blush lit up Joyce's face like a Christmas tree. "Me and my big mouth. Heck, I thought you knew. It's not as if it's costing me anything. Our husband pays for everything, anyway, and Caitlin and I started donating our salaries as soon as we married this hunk here, actually well before you guys became part of us," she finished, pulling Caitlin close and hugging her.

"Still," Nat said, "we think that's great."

"Can we go and visit, sometime, you think?" Nicki asked.

Joyce looked at her husband for a second, and at Jeff's slight nod, "I don't see why not. How would you like to take presents to all the kids at the orphanage?"

The three young wives stood stunned. Shortly their eyes riveted on Jeff. "Can we? Really?" Whitney asked.

"What better thing could we do?" Jeff said as he watched tears spill from the eyes of the three young women.

Joyce winked at her husband before turning back to Nat, Nicki and Whitney. "Caitlin and I will talk to the lady in charge and get a visit set up. You guys decide what you want the presents to be. Now let's eat," Joyce said as she heaped on some scrambled eggs. "I'm starving."

The three young wives stood quietly talking among themselves, obviously stressed about something, and Jeff thought he knew what it was. He put his plate down on the steam table and put his arms around all three of them. "Stop and think," he said, pulling them to him. "If just one of you were married to me, one on one, then that one would have no problem realizing that what was mine also belonged to her, hmmm. In other words, she would be a multimillionaire just as I am, right?"

The three nodded their heads, their eyes big.

"But I have fourteen wives, and one of those wives is my Queen. Now why should my wives feel any differently about finances than that one wife would? We are all rich. We are all part of a real marriage. We won't waste our money, or throw it away on ridiculous things, but with all Di and I have given away, our net worth is still increasing every day. Take your time in deciding, and run your decision by Diana, Joyce and Caitlin, but when you decide, you can deliver your gifts to the orphanage. We obviously can't give every kid there a million dollars, but that doesn't mean that we can't give them something that is very nice, indeed."

The three hugged and kissed their husband, but Jeff suddenly realized that they still considered themselves not quite on a par with his other wives. The effects of that damn orphanage are still with us. I need to talk with Diana about this.

-------

Breakfast over and Caitlin off to work, Joyce, still in a good mood, her gunbelt over her shoulder, "dragged" Jeff off to make love before she took a nap. In the suite she used for her day sleeping, she hung the gunbelt on a clothes rod in the closet, then stripped off her vest and clothes. She usually showered before she made love, afraid she would have sweat on her body under the vest, but today she didn't start for the bathroom.

Jeff, nude, was waiting on the bed for her. As she slid under the sheet with him, she said, "I haven't showered, so don't make love to me with your mouth — just fuck me unconscious. I've set the alarm for three hours. I'll shower when I get up. Since I'm off tonight, I don't want to sleep all day and then not be able to sleep tonight. I want to enjoy my night off with all my sister-wives and you."

Joyce sat up and flipped the sheet off them. Leaning over, her mouth descended onto his already-hard cock. "Hhhmmmmm," she said as she tasted his precome.

Jeff didn't know whether she really liked the taste, or the taste just excited her, but the end result was the same — her enthusiasm soared. A minute or so later, she stretched out on her side to be more comfortable as she sucked him. He put a hand on her shapely ass, then slid it between her legs to touch her wet pussy. That started her rear to moving in small circles, accompanied by a muffled groan.

Smiling to himself, knowing she was going to fuss, he reached over, grabbed both her legs and lifted her, settling her pussy over his mouth.

She took her mouth off his cock for a moment to hiss out a, "Nooo. I'm not clean."

He didn't pay any attention, but went straight for her clit, licking it lightly and setting up a pattern of licking her lips, then sucking her clit. She protested for a moment, then abruptly came — and came hard. After she had several orgasms, he lifted her off his face and stood by the side of the bed as he pulled her into a kneeling position. She grabbed a pillow to bury her face in as he lined his cock up with her dripping pussy.

Pushing himself slowly in until he was seated inside her, he filled her completely. "Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jeff," she cried over and over, shivering in her excitement. After a few moments of his stroking her, she pulled her head back from the pillow and screamed her way through another intense orgasm, her pussy clamping down hard on his cock. After a minute or so, she collapsed her face back on the pillow, mumbling as he continued to stroke her.

I'm going to have to thank my Queen yet again for teaching all my wives to use their inner muscles. Walking around while squeezing on that little dildo all day has made their pussies feel so tight, it's like fucking virgins, only tighter. As Joyce's pussy began a rhythmic milking of his cock, he sped up, his strokes shaking her body, her breasts swaying and jiggling.

"Oh, Jeff, I'm gonnaaa..."

And he tripped her switch.

She bucked hard up against him, her body shivering, took a breath, and screamed herself unconscious.

Later, Joyce lay sleeping deeply with the sheet tucked to her chin and a washcloth between her legs as Jeff quietly left the suite.

-------

The computer announced Fred's group, showing Carla's big pickup starting up the driveway. Jeff stood to look at the big screen. The truck was stacked high and wide. It looked as if there wasn't room for another bale of hay on it.

Jeff edged closer to the TV. Where did they get those rectangular bales? Carla's equipment makes only big round bales. He turned to Diana, who had just walked in. They had discussed decorating the living room with hay bales, pumpkins and corn stalks, if Carla could find any corn that was still intact after the harvest, but he hadn't expected this. He pointed at the screen and continued, "I assume that most of the hay is for outside decorations..."

"Nope," the Queen replied, stepping over and kissing him hard, her tongue seeking the inside of his mouth as she subtly rubbed her breasts against his chest. Pulling her face back just a few inches, "I may have overdone it a little, but Nat, Nicki and Whitney were never allowed to celebrate Halloween while they were in the orphanage. Oh, we'll put a few of the bales on the back stoop, but most of them will go in here. You and the guys need to start moving furniture. As a neat little school project, Helen's younger students designed the layout for our Halloween decorations. Jessica said she managed to find a few cornstalks that the combine didn't destroy, and somewhere in that load there is supposed to be a number of pumpkins they raised on the farm."

"Crap, Baby," Jeff got out, but a good portion of his mind was on the feel of her nipples against his chest. "When you mentioned decorating and said you were going to get some hay from Carla, I didn't exactly visualize a load of hay bales," he finished, but he couldn't conjure up much in the way of objections, not with her breasts pressed against his chest. He knew she was manipulating him, but he didn't really care, and he certainly loved her manner of persuasion.

Selina had walked in. Aware of Selina's acute hearing, Diana drew Jeff aside. "We discussed the party, but I guess I've allowed our plans to ... expand — shall we say. But after hearing Nat, Nicki and Whitney being so enthusiastic, and realizing that they were never permitted to celebrate anything at the orphanage, I just couldn't help having something special for the three of them. The only celebration they've attended was their birthday party here. When I started planning, everyone had suggestions. Selina has never done anything like this, either." Diana nodded to Selina as she stood looking out the window, obviously allowing Jeff and Diana to converse privately. "She's trying to act like she isn't enthused about tonight, but her reaction to the gremlin outfit belies that. I'll bet you that she'll have a ball with our party, since she's already into helping us cook. Ten to one she'll love helping us set out food for the party tonight. Oh, Jeff, we've always been on a strict budget. Many times in our early married life we struggled."

"But I thought we were going to the haunted house, then the trunk or treat at the church. Then after Selina went to bed we were going to have an adult Halloween party."

"Oh, we'll have our adult party afterwards, but we have something planned that everyone will enjoy, and Selina can be there in the beginning and even participate." As Jeff started to say something, Diana quickly went on, "I'm not going to go into all the details now, and most of the women don't even know everything, but you'll enjoy the party, too. As I said, it's going to be a surprise. Now, my Husband, please round up your Alphas, go get a couple of hand trucks and bring that hay in here."

"It's going to make a mess," Jeff warned.

"That's alright, you guys can clean it up tomorrow," she said before kissing her husband and hastening out, dodging the swat he aimed at her ass.

Arlene hurried in. "Here Dad," she said, handing him a sheet of paper. "Here's the layout of the room decorations." Kissing him, she was gone.

Frank and Bill were standing just inside the doorway, grinning. "And what are you grinning at?" Jeff challenged them.

Bill sprang to attention and threw Jeff a mock salute. "Private Madison reporting for duty, Sir."

"Smart ass," Jeff laughed. "Get us a couple hand trucks while I find Dave and Art. They aren't going to get out of this."

-------

The men had moved most of the furniture to the other end of the big living room when Ann came in on one of the riding vacuums. A few moments later, the carpet was pristine. As soon as she left, Arlene, Jennie, Melissa and Selina came in with sheets of plastic they had cut to size. After putting the vacuum away, Ann returned and helped the others put down the plastic. Every piece of plastic — each just a little wider than a hay bale and of varying lengths — had a number which corresponded to a number on the diagram. Two of the girls were measuring, while the others spread the plastic. A smirk crossed Jeff's face as he thought about having a diagram to place decorations, until he realized how efficiently they had progressed through the job.

Arlene called her husband over. Pointing to a drawing in black marker on each piece of plastic, she said, "There's a sketch on each sheet that shows the arrangement of the hay bales on that particular sheet. Oh, in case you haven't figured it out yet," she teased, "the room is supposed to look like the inside of a barn loft." Kissing her husband for a second, "Now My Husband, gather up all these walking testosterone factories and get us some hay bales to work with."

The men passed Fred's women in the hallway. After exchanging greetings, Jeff, and the Alphas hurried out the back. Fred already had a half dozen bales on the back stoop and was wrestling more off the truck.

After exchanging greetings with Fred, Jeff and Dave stacked two bales on a hand truck. Jeff turned to his buddy. "Where did you get all this? I didn't see anything except round bales when you guys were bailing Carla's hay."

"Someone she knew. Jessica put one of our round bales on the truck. Thirty minutes later, she was back with a load of the rectangular bales. The pumpkins are under everything."

"How many pumpkins are there?" Jeff asked as Fred tossed down another bale.

"Fifteen of the big ones, and quite a few of the small ones."

Diana came out on the stoop without a coat, her arms crossed under her breasts as the cold hit her. "The pumpkins all go in the outside garage. The girls will carve them later. Turn the heat up, please, so your wives won't freeze what you like to play with."

"Yes, Dear," Jeff kidded.

"Hey, Diana," Fred said from the back of the pickup.

"Hey, Guy. You did good."

"Not me. Jessica swapped a couple of our bales for the load of rectangular bales. I think she still has to take another round bale to whomever she got these from."

Diana, shivering, hurried back inside.

Bill got on the pickup to help unload while the other men trucked the bales into the living room, placing them where Arlene and Selina directed. Both had quickly memorized the diagram.

Linda and Kim, Dave's other wives, had opened a box of electric candles and were putting in batteries. Shortly, someone lowered the room lighting to check out how the candles looked. After all the electric candles were out, the two girls dug out the mood lighting from the pile of boxes waiting to be opened. The mood lighting consisted of battery operated lights that produced a weird flickering purple light that made strange patterns on the walls and ceiling.

Jeff stood looking around as the decorations took shape. "It's going to be impressive," his Queen said as she stood beside him and put an arm around his waist. "The big window lets in too much light to get the total effect now, but the room will look great after dark."

"Looks pretty darn impressive already," Jeff said as he looked around.

His mate smiled up at him. "Just wait. We haven't even started yet. We're going to have a Halloween that Nat, Nicki and Whitney will never forget."

-------

The hay bales were in place when Jeff stepped out of the living room into the hallway. As he neared the doorway, Diana walked out of the kitchen. "Baby, would you supervise the Jack O'Lantern carving?" she said as she walked into his arms.

He grinned down at her, "For a blowjob."

"Well, that shouldn't be too difficult to arrange, since you usually have to prise my mouth off your cock, anyway," she said, giggling.

"'Supervise?'" he laughed. "What you mean is, cut a big hole in the top and get rid of the gunk inside, hmmm?"

She grabbed his neck, pulled his face down and kissed him. "I love a smart man," she teased.

He stood watching her ass sway as she walked away.

The kitchen door opened and an avalanche of young wives, most of them his, surged into the hallway. "Let's go, Husband. Times a wasting," Jennie said, grabbing his arm.

They took coats from the racks by the back door, shrugged them on, a half dozen joyful conversations and laughter erupting as they hurried through the cold to the outside garage. Jeff had turned the heat up in the bay he used for changing the oil in the vehicles, and had draped a new plastic liner into a big trashcan. He picked up one of the largest pumpkins and set it on the workbench. Melissa handed him a knife and he quickly cut a big plug out of the top, setting the plug aside.

Arlene had shrugged out of her coat, tossing it on the other end of the workbench. As Jeff started to reach inside the pumpkin to pull out the gunk and seeds, Arlene touched his arm. "Do the next one. I'll clean this one out."

When he looked at her, a question on his face, she went on, "Not nearly as bad as changing a shitty diaper. The seeds and junk look bad, but they kinda have a nice smell," she said, chuckling as she buried her hands inside the pumpkin.

Jeff swept the trashcan close with his foot. He could almost see the gears turning in the young wives heads. Arlene was doing it; they could do it. The production line fell into gear. Jeff did manage to clean out one of the smaller pumpkins, and was relieved that the girls didn't start a battle with pumpkin gunk.

He stood back and watched as they somehow decided which stencils to use. His newer wives seemed to have already acquired the ability to sync with the others. One handed out stencils, while two more taped them onto the pumpkins. There was giggling and laughter; their moods had already been high, but now soared as they all worked together. His older wives were still in the kitchen, he supposed, but he wished they could see this.

Even as that thought crossed his mind, the Alphas walked in with all the older wives. Everyone stood watching. Diana came over to put an arm around his waist as the girls carved the pumpkins into Jack O'Lanterns.

Quietly, she said, "There's more to a celebration than just the actual celebration itself."

Jeff chuckled as he kissed her ear. "Suppose we could sneak off while they're doing this?"

His Queen pinched him gently in the side. "No. As soon as they're done with these, we have to begin preparing our meal for tonight."

"We're going to eat before we go to the haunted house, aren't we?" the always hungry Prime asked.

"We'll have sandwiches, but we will have Halloween food for our party tonight, and ... there will be plenty of food even for you," she teased.

Jeff looked over and saw that Fred, Dave, Frank, Bill and Art were enjoying watching the younger wives as much as he was. Sandra and Bobby were standing next to Art, each with an arm around him.

Diana couldn't stand it, and was soon involved giving advice on the carving. Quickly, the other older wives joined in.

An hour later, the Jack O'Lanterns were done. There were scary faces, funny faces, spiders, cats, dragons, creatures, witches — on and on. The knives the women were using were from the kitchen, and sharp. Jeff had worried that someone would cut a finger, but Little One was riding his back, should she be needed. Somehow no one was cut.

They lined the hay bales up just so on the back steps with a Jack O'Lantern on each side, their small battery powered LED lights barely noticeable in the strong sunlight, but the small lights would light the pumpkin faces well when it was dark.

Inside the living room, Selina, with her photographic memory of their diagram, stood directing as the girls positioned the Jack O'Lanterns around the room. Of course Helen's memory was just as good, with Arlene's coming in a close second, followed only slightly behind by Ann's. Or they could have simply picked up the diagram, but it was more fun this way, and ... they all loved to watch the small child directing everyone.

The pumpkins were all positioned and their small lights switched on. Diana raised her voice slightly, "Okay. We have a lot more cooking to do. Let's get on it."

Shortly, the men were alone in the living room. Dave looked around him. "What are we supposed to sit on, hay bales?"

Jeff grinned at him. "Yep."

Dave looked around again. "I have a better idea. Why don't we adjourn to my apartment? We have plenty of nice furniture to sit on."

"Amen to that," Wainwright said.

As the men stepped into the hallway, Evie met them pushing a serving cart. "Take this with you. There are snacks, drinks and coffee. The kitchen is off limits to males for the afternoon. We'll have a light supper of sandwiches in the small dining room just before we leave." Giggling as if she were hiding a secret, she turned and pranced away.



-------

Chapter 148

The men sat in Dave and Evie's apartment talking, laughing and killing time, their shoes off and their feet propped on ottomans or the coffee table. The TV was on, muted, as some guy was catching and eating bugs on one of the "survival" shows, not that any of the men were paying attention to the TV.

Diana walked in and plopped down in her husband's lap. "Mind if I invite Steve and Marcie to go with us tonight, then share in our party?"

(Steve and Marcie are the nearest neighbors down the road.)

"Nope. Sounds like a good idea."

"Great." Diana sat looking at her husband for a moment. She let out a quiet sigh then went on with, "Honey, why don't you ask them if they will allow the block? They know something is going on because of the blue light both of them dreamed of when you used Little One on them. They didn't try to question us, and they said they wouldn't mention it to anyone, but they know something healed them. We haven't seen them in a little while, but I'll bet that when we do, they'll look different. They've already told us they are back to skiing the difficult slopes."

Jeff moved his wife a little on his lap to ease the pressure on his balls. "Yeah, I think you're right. I've also been concerned about all the helicopters coming in for the ski lodge. Frank's copter comes straight over the top of the mountain. I'm sure the Sperman's can hear it from time to time, and Frank owns a flying service, so that's easily explained away, but the General's big choppers coming in aren't so easily explained. They use a more surreptitious route, but still, they make a lot of noise, and even with Steve and Marcie as far away as they are, they're bound to hear something on occasion.

"It's reasonable to think they have figured out something is going on. Both of them are very intelligent people with scientific backgrounds. They've already implied that they think the healing they received had something to do with my invention, and I haven't tried to dissuade them of that notion. But still, you're right; we're treading on dangerous ground. All it would take is a casual slip about the number of big helicopters coming in here, or a comment to the wrong person about the Sperman's new health. But I won't block them unless they freely consent to it."

"The lady who owns the art supply store knew me by name, and I got the feeling she knew a lot more than just that."

Jeff chuckled. "Well, even before we had Security here, I can just imagine what people thought when we drove by with three or four Escalades in a row. Now with Security escorting Joyce and Caitlin to work, let alone when they escort all of us, probably half the residents in Winter Park know who we are. The rich guy on the mountain..."

" ... with all the wives," Diana added, giggling.

"When are you going to call Steve and Marcie?"

"Already did," his mate answered. "They should be here any minute."

"You already invited them? Then why did you ask me?" Jeff said, with a grin.

"I needed to ask my Master," she returned, deadpan.

"You should turn her over your knee and spank her," Frank inserted, chuckling.

"Ohhh, that sounds good," Diana teased as she stood up, "maybe we'll get around to that tonight." She walked toward the door, but stopped to look back at her husband, "I'll send one of the girls in with the block equipment, and also have someone escort Steve in here. I'll bring Marcie down in thirty minutes or so. That should give you plenty of time to talk to Steve and get him blocked.

"Oh, yes, I talked to Alesha earlier. She and Jesse want to go with us, but they'll meet us at the trunk or treat when she gets off work. We need to get them on board with the blocks, as well, don't you think? I'm tired of lying to them."

"Yeah," Jeff sighed. "We should tie up loose ends, particularly with this slaver group going after Art."

"I didn't mean to bring my troubles to you..." Art started.

"You didn't," Jeff broke in, "and if you had, it wouldn't matter. You're an Alpha. We stand together."

-------

Linda (Bill Madison's daughter and one of Dave's young wives) pushed the cart bearing the blocking equipment into Dave's living room. Plopping down in Dave's lap, much as Diana had done to Jeff a few minutes earlier, she soul-kissed her husband. "Wow. What was that for?" Dave laughed when she finally took her mouth from his.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess it's because we'll be working on tonight's food most of the afternoon and I won't get to see you for awhile. Are you complaining?" she teased.

Dave kissed her back. Faced flushed and her nipples prominent through her top, she broke the kiss and stood. "I guess not," she giggled.

Madison was watching, a grin on his face. "And what are you grinning at, Daddy?" she laughed as she sat in her father's lap and with a hand on either side of his face, gave him an openmouthed kiss with every bit of the passion she had just shown her husband. A good thirty seconds later, she stood again. As she walked past her husband, she leaned over and gently touched her lips to his, then whispered, "You've got your work cut out for you tonight." With a sway to her hips that she knew all the men would be watching, she walked out of the room.

Art sat with an odd look on his face, not knowing how to act.

Dave and Bill turned to each other, "What brought that on?" they both said in unison. Both groaned when they realized what they had done, then said, "Ah, fuck," at the same time.

Dave glared at Jeff, who was belly laughing. "And you're getting entirely too much fun out of this. It was just an accident that Bill and I said the same thing at the same time."

But Bill's chuckling suddenly stopped. Looking at Dave, Bill cleared his throat. "Uh, Dave. I don't know what got into her..."

"Ah, come on. She kisses you all the time."

"Not like that, and we both know it. Not since the night you allowed us to spend together."

Art tried to act naturally, but his curiosity had just maxed out.

Dave and Bill suddenly realized that Frank and Jeff had walked out of the room, quickly followed by Art. Dave thought for a moment, then looked at his brother Alpha. "Look Bill. I know that Linda loves you. Loves you as a father and ... without me in the mix, she would have become your wife just as Arlene did with Jeff. I ... We both know that each of us is an honorable man. You could have taken her — made love to her all the way — that night, but you didn't. It would have hurt me, but I promised from the beginning that she could spend a night with you because of the love each of you have for the other. Hell, I spent the night resigned to the thought of you two having sex..."

"Dave, Linda and I both told you we did everything two people can do to each other without my putting my dick into her pussy."

"Yeah, I know. And I appreciate your holding back on that, but I also know that the two of you love each other just as she and I love each other. Oddly enough, her kissing you like she just did didn't bother me. I'm not saying that the other wouldn't. I'm pretty damn sure it would, but you don't need to be embarrassed if she does something like that kiss again. I love her. She fucked my brains out last night, and obviously will again tonight. And I'm absolutely positive of her love for me, but if she wants to kiss you..."

"Thanks man," Bill quietly said. "I do love her ... as my daughter, and..."

" ... as a woman," Dave supplied for him.

"She had an infatuation with her father — me — as do many young girls with their own fathers. That expanded into true love because of the things that happened with Jill. Linda and I only had each other when the woman we loved..."

"I know," Dave said. "No use for you to bring back all those bad memories. Jill almost died, but you have her back, whole, and loving you with all her heart. We're both lucky." There was a moment where the two men sat wondering what to say, finally, "If she decides to kiss you like that again, you're not hurting my feelings."

"Thanks Dave. I don't know what to say."

Both men stood, their right hands clasping in a handshake with their free hands gripping the other's forearm. They knew that something had just happened between them, and they also realized the tension caused by them both loving the same young woman was gone. They turned and started in search of the others, but their steps faltered as both wondered if Linda's exhibition of her love for her father had been a deliberate thing. Had she realized there was tension between the two men she loved? Had she forced things to come to a head?

"This smells of Evie and Diana," Dave said.

Both men stopped. "But it could have made things worse..." Bill began, but was interrupted by Dave.

"No. I would never have allowed that to happen, and I know you wouldn't have either."

"I guess I've felt guilty ever since that night," Bill quietly said.

"Yeah, me too, but not for the same reason, obviously. My guilt was from a promise that wasn't kept."

"But you didn't break your promise. Linda and I decided it would cause problems if we made love, well, in the conventional way, I mean. We made love, I just didn't penetrate her sex with my dick."

"Still...

"That's nothing but a technicality," Bill finished, "but I'm glad that technicality is there, nonetheless." He slapped Dave on the shoulder, smiled, and turned him toward the hallway. "Let's go find the others. Okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

-------

A little later, the men were back in Dave's living room when Evie brought Steve Sperman in. After the men had greeted Steve, and Art had been introduced as a friend, Dave offered the older man coffee.

"Don't mind if I do. Don't mind if I do," Sperman said.

After a few minutes of initial conversation, Jeff approached the subject. He explained as much as he could without giving anything away, but it came down to a matter of trust.

Steve sat thinking for a moment. "Marcie and I have always sat down and discussed any important decisions either of us has had to make. This sounds serious, so maybe we need to get her in here."

Jeff picked up the phone and dialed the kitchen. Soon, Diana arrived with Marcie, who sat on the couch with Steve. Diana sat in Jeff's lap. Before Steve could say anything to Marcie, she took his hand. "Diana has explained a number of things to me, and she's also said there would be a lot more they could tell us in the future if we would allow this, uh, block. I trust them, Honey. They didn't have to do whatever they did that brought our health back. She has sworn that the block will not cause us any mental problems, just that we won't be able to discuss with outsiders anything the Matthews tell us. Everyone here has ... undergone it, even Selina.

"Just think what they have done for us. I can't ever remember having this much energy." Leaning over, she whispered in his ear, "And you've fucked me so much lately that I'm sore almost every morning. And you know how long it's been since you could do that. Both of us look ten years younger, and your workouts have put new muscles on your body — something that doesn't happen to old folks. Let's take the block thing."

Steve turned to Jeff. "What do we have to do?"

Jeff got up and pushed a comfortable seat close to the cart holding the block equipment. Jeff picked up something that looked a lot like a partial helmet. "Just sit here and let me put this on your head. A ten minute Nap and you'll be ready to go."

Ten minutes later, there was the usual conversation when Jeff took the half helmet off: Steve didn't realize he had been asleep, or that any time had passed. Not feeling any different, he tactfully mentioned that he was pretty sure the equipment hadn't worked.

"Your turn, Marcie," Diana said, trying not to laugh.

Jeff slipped the helmet on Marcie's head, picked up the remote, touched the controls and she was out.

"I did that?" Sperman asked as he realized his wife was deeply asleep.

Jeff said, expressionless, "Yep."

"And all this is to keep us from telling people about your invention? The way you healed us, and everything."

Dave and Frank chuckled. Art just sat quietly watching.

Jeff checked the settings on the block equipment, then turned back to Steve. "My invention has nothing to do with your healing. A little later, I'll show both of you what rejuvenated your bodies." Then just for shock value, "Oh, one of the reasons for the block is so you will not let anything slip about our starship."

Sperman opened his mouth to say something in response to what he first thought was a little joke, when he realized that Jeff was serious. Feeling his mouth hanging open, he snapped it closed, looking embarrassed. He started to say something inane, but stopped before the words were formed. After a long moment, he cleared his throat and moistened a suddenly dry mouth. "I can tell by your expression that you're serious. That said, I suppose our space technology is a lot more advanced than the government has led the public to believe."

The block equipment chimed and Jeff removed the helmet.

Sperman caught his wife's eye. "Don't bother to say it, Dear. You were out. And ... Jeff has convinced me in just a few words why this is necessary."

Diana stood and walked over to Marcie, offering a hand. "Let's go back to the kitchen. You said you wanted to help with the Halloween cooking. We'll have plenty of time to discuss some of our secrets with you while we have some fun."

-------

It was a good thing the kitchen was so big. There was plenty of counter space and tables for the women to spread out and work. When Diana and Marcie returned, a number of projects were already well underway. Some items could be prepped, but would have to go into the oven when the family returned from the trunk or treat and the haunted house.

There were two varieties of monster toes being created. Both versions used cocktail wieners. Dave's two younger wives, Linda and Kim, were cutting a wedge out of the end of each of their wieners. The wedge would later have a smear of mustard to represent a toenail. They cut tortillas into strips about four inches long and a half inch wide. Moistened and warmed, the strips were wound around the wiener from the toenail to the back of the wiener, and pinned in place with a toothpick to make the monster toes. When each cookie sheet was full, they placed it in a refrigerator. Tonight, they would put the monster toes in the oven for a few minutes, then remove the toothpicks and transfer the toes to platters where the girls would add a gob of mustard to represent the toe nail. Heating in the oven made the wieners shiny and wrinkled, and even more realistic looking.

Helen and Laura were making the second version of monster toes (mummy toes) by wrapping a cocktail wiener with biscuit dough that had green food coloring worked into it. The dough was wrapped around the wiener. After the mummy toe came out of the oven, they would push half of a black olive into the sliced-out section for a toenail and would pour ketchup on the "severed" end, plus dripping catsup around the platter.

A week prior, Ann, Arlene, Jennie and Melissa had peeled a number of apples, dipped them in a solution of lemon juice and salt to keep the apples from changing color, and carved faces on them, then placed them on top of one of the ovens to dry. The apples had shrunk to half their normal size. The faces carved into them were now wrinkled and distorted looking, much like real shrunken heads.

Laura tossed some fake hair on the big kitchen table and a bottle of glue. "Anyone want to glue some hair on our little shrunken heads? The worse it looks, the better, so there's no way to do it wrong."

"Yes," Selina quickly responded, "but I shall require some assistance with this number of them," the six-year-old said as she gestured to the big tray of dried apples Helen had put on the table.

Jennie and Melissa looked at each other, grinned and said, "May we?"

Shortly, it was hard to determine which of the girls was enjoying the "shrunken heads" more. The little girl came out in the six-year-old genius as she prattled on about the shrunken heads. Frequently giggling, the child part of her was having a ball while her grown up genius continued to figure out ways to make the apples more lifelike.

Margaret and Tina got out the giant punch bowl and put it in the walk-in freezer to get cold. They had prepared the "severed hand" several days prior using a kitchen glove which they filled with a combination of raspberry and cranberry juice in a regular unflavored gelatin mix. The glove was tied off and hung in the big freezer to set for three days at thirty below zero F.

Just before the party, they would mix ginger ale and sparkling cider into the big punch bowl, and would cut the glove from the frozen mix. The blood red "hand" from the cut-away glove would go into the punch to float and spiral out tendrils of "blood" into the punch.

Hope had been tentative at first, although her sister, Jennie, had encouraged her to get involved. Diana and Helen walked over. "We have a project that you have a unique talent for. Want to come see?"

"Sure, I guess," Hope cautiously agreed.

At a nearby table, Arlene and Ann sat peeling sugar baby watermelons. The melons were about a foot in diameter and generally almost perfectly round.

"They're doing the manual labor for you," Diana explained, "but we have left the rest for the artist to complete."

Hope just looked at her.

"Ever done any sculpting?"

"Unh uh."

"Well, I'll bet you'll be good at it."

Arlene finished peeling her melon and set it on a towel in front of Hope. Most of the thick rind was now gone, leaving a light greenish-white ball. Helen put an anatomy textbook that was open to a picture of a human brain on the table near Hope. Diana placed a stylized picture of the brain, with its various areas labeled, next to the textbook, then added another picture of a completed "watermelon brain."

The "watermelon brain" was sculpted with the lines between the hemispheres and various sections of the brain scored in a manner to show the deep red watermelon underneath. This gave an impression of blood below the various sections of the brain. The sculpted brain in the picture had a startling resemblance to a head with the top of the skull cut away and the brain showing. Tonight, in the darkened living room, accompanied by the flickering electric candles and the mood lighting, the "watermelon brains" would look very realistic, indeed.

Diana slid a bar stool over so Hope could sit and still be high enough to do her sculpting. The girl looked a question at the Queen.

"I bought a dozen of the sugar babies. I thought that four of the 'watermelon brains' would be sufficient, unless you want to make more. You have a couple of 'slaves' to peel for you," she teased, winking at Arlene and Ann. "If you sculpt a brain you don't like, we'll cut the melon in the morning and put it on the bar for breakfast. That's what they're destined for, anyway."

"I've never tried anything like this..." Hope started.

Arlene giggled. "Neither have we. We found the idea on the net and immediately thought of you. We know you can do it. We brought you an assortment of knives and kitchen gadgets," she said, motioning to the table where they were lined up in order by design and size. "Take your pick."

Hope looked at the picture of a completed "watermelon brain," then back at Arlene and Ann. "It doesn't look that hard. I think I can do it. I'll try, anyway."

Helen looked at Hope, the teacher tilting her head. Hope giggled again. "I know. I know. You told us in class that try is a negative word. And I remember your example: 'I'll try to walk over to the door.' It sounds silly, so why say it for something else?" After a moment, she continued, "I won't try to do this, I'll make us some 'watermelon brains.'"

"Four of them, please," Diana laughed.

As Helen and Diana walked away, Helen quietly said, "Another step in restoring her self-confidence. We make a good team."

"Damn straight," Diana said, giggling like a teenager as she imitated one of her husband's favorite expressions.

-------

Lieutenant Mayfield and his security Sergeant had returned from a scouting trip to the trunk or treat area and the haunted house. The Lieutenant had barely walked through the door of the ski lodge when the General called for a videoconference.

Eventually, the conference ended and the big hi-res screen went dark. The Lieutenant didn't like videoconferences with the General, particularly when the General was worried. Shit,  he thought. I should be getting orders from a Major, not a fucking General. General Whitworth said Colonel Matthews had assured him this wasn't going to be a big deal, but if I screw up and let something happen to Colonel Matthews or his family, I'll have my ass busted back to trooper and posted to some backwater planet for the rest of my life. They might remember me in twenty years — if the General doesn't just kill my ass instead of bothering to demote me. The frikin' haunted house will be bad enough, but a trunk or treat? How in the hell can I guarantee the Colonel's and his family's safety around so many strangers? Not to even mention Security has to be in civvies, which means we won't have helmets with their augmented sensor arrays. Fuck, this is a thousand times worse than that department store shopping spree.

"Damn. Damn. Damn," he muttered almost to himself. "All right," he told Sergeant Higgins, "we'll do it this way. At the trunk or treat, I want four people wearing battle helmets and camouflage at the corners of the lot, here, here, here and here," he said, pointing to the computer screen that was showing a satellite view. "We haven't trained as much with the new camouflage as the Colonel's team, but we'll make do for now. There shouldn't be any kids at those locations, but make damn sure the camouflaged troopers know to stay alert for kids running into them. Shit, how would we explain a kid running into something invisible?"

"I want four more troopers in civvies working the crowd, and Carter has volunteered to personally escort the Colonel." Mayfield pointed to the satellite photo on the screen again, "We'll position our backup people in vans on the road on either side of the trunk or treat. Considering the area, I think two hundred yards out will be about right. Each van will have four troopers in full battle gear, and they will also monitor for anything or anyone suspicious coming in."

The Sergeant locked eyes with his Lieutenant. "Colonel Matthews says he knows most of these people, at least by sight. A good many of them helped with the harvest at his buddy's place. A stranger will stand out like a sore thumb to this bunch of farmers and ranchers. Two of Mr. Wilson's (Fred's) women have lived in the area for years. They've told their neighbors that the Colonel and his family were attacked, and from what I hear, the Colonel and his women worked side by side with these people during that harvest. If a stranger pulls a gun, he'll probably be full of holes in a heartbeat."

"The civilians are going to be armed?" the Lieutenant asked, trying desperately to keep his voice normal.

"Did you ever see a rancher who wasn't?" the Sergeant replied as the grin spread on his face. "What we need to worry about is that we are going to be the strangers to them."

As the frown on the Lieutenant's face deepened, Higgins quickly continued. "We've worked out a code. Mr. Wilson and his family will make sure the locals know we're the good guys."

The Lieutenant took a breath and went on, "We'll have the extra weapons vehicles parked on either side of the trunk or treat area, here and here, should we need extra pulse rifles or power packs in a hurry."

The two men sat quietly for a moment. "Sergeant, we've gone over this time and again ever since we heard about this..."

"Excursion," the Sergeant offered.

"Yeah, this excursion. If you can think of anything I haven't done, or you know a better way, I need..."

Higgins interrupted. "Everyone knows what to do. This isn't their first dance. Those guys and gals have given you one hundred percent. Time for you to trust them, Sir. None of our people are here because they couldn't find anything else to do. They volunteered, and we only took the best. And ... you're forgetting the Colonel. Remember what he did to Col ... uh, Buckmann. Shit, I almost addressed that sorry fucker by his old rank."

Lieutenant Mayfield grinned at his Sergeant. "I heard that the General stood and watched as Buckmann's body was tossed in a trash dumpster, then the dumpster was emptied into the furnace and the dumpster's contents incinerated."

"Guess we shouldn't fuck this up then, Sir."



-------

Chapter 149

After a tussle, Diana managed to get the Superkitten suit on Billy. She had originally planned to make a devil costume for him, but changed her mind and made the Superkitten suit, instead. The blue material, almost a body suit, covered him down his back to his hips, but was shorter on the underside, stopping well before his groin. Hidden strips of Velcro fasteners closed the outfit. The red cape started on either side of his neck and extended down his back to stop just short of his hips. She had sewn thin plastic stiffeners into the cape to make it more rigid, causing it to stand out a little from his body to give the illusion of flying above his back. The front of the suit bore a stylized "S" in yellow and red, just as a Superman suit would have.

While the women held their breath, Diana put him down in front of a full-length mirror. At first, he didn't look toward the mirror, but sat to lick his paws, trying to ignore what had been done to him. Suddenly, he noticed the mirror. With tail standing straight out, his back arched and his feet together, he snapped his full attention to the mirror, hissing at the apparition there. Darting to the side near the wall, he cautiously looked back toward the mirror. Seeing no reflection, since the angle was wrong, crouching low, he cautiously crept along the wall toward the mirror.

Thinking the other cat must have gone toward the bedroom door, he eased cautiously along while the women waited, barely daring to breathe. As he passed the mirror, he sensed movement alongside himself. Spinning toward the intruder, he prepared to do battle with this strange-appearing cat. But the cat in the mirror was approaching just as he was, the thing on its back apparently moving on its own. Time to give this upstart a lesson in manners.

His left paw flicked out, claws extended, but instead of tearing out a chunk of the imposing cat, his paw bounced back. A windmill of flashing strikes, and the cat in the mirror remained undamaged. Bounding to the side, Billy crept back — then struck again, hissing and spitting. The cat in the mirror seemed just as fast, but somehow none of the other cat's blows landed, either.

Diana picked the kitten up and placed him on her shoulder, holding him close with a gentle hand as he hissed and spat. Stepping in front of the mirror, she continued to hold him while he calmed down, and eventually just stared at the mirror. There were two women and two cats, but the women seemed identical, and the cat in the mirror was still there, too. He raised a front paw for a second. The cat in the mirror raised a front paw. He raised the other front paw for a moment. The cat in the mirror did the same. Turning his face away from the other cat, he refused to acknowledge it, but his tiny brain continued to worry the concept of a cat that couldn't be touched.

He looked at his belly, turned his head and looked over his shoulder. He could not determine how to get the covering off, so decided to ignore it.

The women had been squealing, giggling or laughing as he fought the cat in the mirror. His mistress reached up and took him from Diana's shoulder, putting him on hers. "It's Halloween. You should wear a costume," she said as she petted him. "You will become accustomed to it, and doubtless like it, eventually."

Billy didn't know what she said, but she seemed pleased and at ease, so he would be too.

Selina turned to Diana. "My Queen, I understood that you were making horns for Billy?"

Diana smiled down at her. "I made them, but I got sidetracked by the Superkitten suit. He's too sweet to put horns and a devil costume on."

The little genius thought for a second. "Possibly we could pretend that he is really Superkitten, and Superkitten is celebrating Halloween by wearing devil horns."

"I don't..." Diana stopped before she could complete her sentence. We're adults pretending to be something we aren't when we put on costumes. Can't Superkitten be pretending, too? "Oh, why not?" she said with a chuckle. If our little genius wants to be a child for a while and pretend, so be it.

A smiling Diana was back in a moment with the tiny set of horns she had made for Billy's head. A thin strap secured them in place. When she slipped them on, Billy growled, not liking to have something on his head.

Selina put him in front of the mirror where he immediately spat and hissed at the new apparition looking back at him. He whacked the mirror with each front paw, then sat staring at the other cat, a barely audible growl coming from his throat.

"Superkitten in a devil costume," Arlene laughed. "We're going to have a ball."

-------

Wearing their Halloween sweatshirts, everyone but Selina and Diana met in the living room.

"Ohmygosh," Arlene rushed out, clapping her hand over her mouth as she stared at Art. Then turning to Helen, "Wow. You did a great job. No one will ever recognize him."

Helen turned to Art. "Remember to concentrate on your walk — slightly longer steps — and your stance. Try to slump your shoulders a bit."

"I will."

Art stood very self-consciously before the scrutiny of the extended family. His clothes looked very much like those of a local rancher, from the well-used broad-brimmed western hat, to the old-seeming boots, and the "work-faded" jeans. He wore a short, scruffy beard that gave the impression of someone who couldn't grow a decent one. Helen had done something to his ear lobes which made them appear slightly thicker and caused them to stick out a little. His wire rimmed glasses set the disguise off, and somehow looked natural on him. His bright orange sweatshirt bore a large skull and crossbones across the chest, with "TRICK OR TREAT" written below in bold, black letters.

Jeff stared at the young agent. It was Art, but it wasn't Art. The Prime knew that one thing that could not be changed with a disguise was the distance between a person's eyes, but Helen had done something that made Art's eyes appear to squint ever so slightly. There was no visible makeup, yet the impression was there. Taken singly, the changes Helen had made were subtle, but together they made a profound difference in the young agent's appearance.

"Well done, Wife," he said as he embraced his resident genius.

"Thank you, Husband," she said, hugging him back, then turning to Sandra and Bobby, "Remember, only one of you should be with him at a time. The other stays close to Jeff. The slavers know Art had two nurses back in Atlanta. Now, he will appear to be just one of many couples there tonight. Plus they could never imagine him being well so quickly."

"I'm with him at the trunk or treat," Sandra said, "and Bobby will be with him at the haunted house."

"I think the both of you can be with him inside the house without calling any attention to the three of you, but not outside," Helen said.

"Yes, Ma'am," the three said in unison, but when Helen glared at them, Art changed it to, "Yes, Helen, and again, thank you."

"The Ma'am ceased when I retired," Helen said, "and you're welcome. I had fun working with the disguise."

Helen turned to her husband. "I ordered his boots online, and received them day before yesterday. Nat, Nicki and Whitney lightly sanded them, rubbed some dirt into them, and also gave them a few nicks so they would appear old. I cut and attached a strip of leather onto the right boot heel to change his walk slightly, thus also shifting his shoulders somewhat as he stands or walks. The hat came from my supplies I had for the kids in my advanced drama class."

Jeff stepped a little closer to the three. "I have some suggestions that you already know, but just to reiterate, practically everyone has a camera on them these days, and many cell phones have a video function as well. If you see anyone taking video or pictures of you, don't call attention to yourself by quickly looking away or trying to get out of the scene in a hurry. I would suggest just turning and moving normally out of the scene as if you have a casual purpose in doing so. You're just one of the local ranchers who is probably bored with the whole trick or treat thing that your wife has dragged you off to.

"People love to put their videos and pictures on Facebook and other social websites. Even if a video with you in it goes up on one of these sites, no one will notice you unless you have called attention to yourself. And if these slavers have access to facial recognition software, and by some insane run of luck happen on a video of you taken tonight, I doubt if the software will ever notice you with the way you look now. It might be interesting to see if our AI is able to recognize you when we come back from the trunk or treat. If it asks who you are when we get back here, obviously we'll know it didn't recognize you."

"No way will it recognize me," Art said, turning to look at his reflection in the big window. "The program they let us experiment with at Quantico would never do it."

"Ten bucks says ours will," Ann said.

Art blushed. "Can't meet your bet. I don't have a dime — remember?"

It was Ann's turn to look embarrassed. "Sorry. I forgot you had to leave everything. No money then, and I don't bet for real, anyway. But I still say our software will recognize you."

"He may be right, Ann," the Prime cautioned. "Art has been introduced to our AI and would normally be recognized when we start back up the drive, but with the beard, glasses and with what Helen has done to his eyes and ears, there's probably little chance the AI will recognize..."

"Oh yes it will," Laura said, smiling at her daughter, just as Helen joined in to agree, also.

Jeff had allowed Laura to "look at" his programming code for his radar. In a matter of hours, she had "tightened up" the code until the program ran noticeably faster. In their spare time, she, Ann, Arlene and Helen had been working on the code for several weeks, and were also working on the code for the AI. Although early on, Laura had let Jeff test the improved code for his radar, all four of the women had quickly become secretive about both projects. He knew they were still working on the AI's code because the program seemed to continue to get brainier, and he suspected they were "smartening" up the radar code as well. He had no real idea what they were doing with either program, and asking only led to smirks and teasing comments like, "You'll see."

Frustrated, at first, he had tried to tactfully question Laura about his radar program, but he had long known that he was an amateur programmer compared to her. Helen, on the other hand, was a true genius. She read at a phenomenal speed and remembered everything. Selina was probably just as smart, but Helen had years of study and life to accumulate a vast amount of knowledge. Laura wasn't a genius — didn't have the intellect or a photographic memory, except ... when it came to programming. She could scan through a program, reading the code, and in minutes understand the program. Seemingly in moments, she could find errors that others would spend many hours locating, if they managed to uncover them even then.

When she wrote code, it was right the first time, every time. Jeff's programs worked — after he debugged them — but she had tightened his code before on other projects, seemingly effortlessly, and so quickly he wanted to pull his hair out just watching her. In addition, she typed at a blazing speed as she wrote her code. The new owners who had taken over her company and downsized were fools to have let her go.

Selina and Diana walked in, the child wearing Arlene's gremlin costume. Those who had not previously seen it were stunned at the realism the costume presented. Billy was riding Diana's shoulders, and although he knew that Selina was inside the beast that walked beside them, he refused to ride its/her shoulder. Every time Selina came near in the costume, he would growl, instinctively deepening his voice as if trying to sound bigger.

Selina raised the gremlin head a little and spoke to Billy.

"Mmeeeow," he responded.

When she settled the head back in place, he began the low growling again.

Laughing, Jeff took the kitten off Diana's shoulders, holding him up before the Prime's face. "Come on, Mr. Superkitten with the devil horns, you can be my buddy tonight."

When Jeff placed the kitten on his shoulder, Billy dug his claws into Jeff's shirt for purchase, and hissed at the gremlin costume.

Jeff, having heard Art's remark about not having any money, stepped to the side for a moment. Diana eventually glanced in his direction. He nodded to her, then with his hand by his side, rubbed his thumb and index finger together and glanced at Art.

After frowning for a moment, his Queen got it. "Money," she mouthed back at her husband.

Jeff nodded and grinned; the Queen smiled and left the room. Returning from the safe a few minutes later, she called Sandra and Bobby into the hallway. When they were well down the hall and out of sight of the others, the Queen turned to them, a little worried. "I don't want this to embarrass you two, but my husband has just reminded me to do this, and ... I want to apologize for not having done it earlier. I'm giving you this to tide you over until you can get to your own money."

With that, she handed each of them a number of bills folded over to produce a tight little bundle. "This is for Art," she said, handing Bobby another small bundle.

"My gosh. We can't take this," she said as she thumbed through the bills, her eyes getting bigger and bigger. "This is way too much," Sandra hissed out.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed.

"I put several smaller bills in with the others, so you can more easily buy drinks and food, or whatever while we're out."

Both nurses were shaking their heads. "Okay. Okay," the Queen said. "I know this is embarrassing, but I don't want it to be. We're not going to allow you to walk around without funds of any kind. You're family — brothers and sisters. One day you'll realize that we really mean that. There is no family closer than the members of our clan are to each other, and you're part of us now. What's ours is yours. Now please tell Art what I said, and remember, if you refuse us, you will hurt us deeply — very deeply."

The nurses looked at each other, not wanting to take the money, but not having a lot of options at present. "We'll pay you back," they said in unison.

"No," the Queen said a little more sharply than she meant. "No," she repeated less sternly as she reached to touch them. "This is family money. God has blessed us and continues to do so. We firmly believe that he would take it away from us if we didn't share. Besides, giving to you is like giving to ourselves. Now go give your man his money, and please try to make him understand. Art is an Alpha, and you're his women. You three are part of the Matthews clan now — just as much a part as any of us."

After hugging her, the nurses turned into a nearby suite to use the restroom to dry their tear-filled eyes before approaching their man. "He's not going to like this," Bobby said to her sister as they looked at each other in the vanity mirror.

Sandra let out a derisive chuckle as she blotted her eyes with a tissue. "That's an understatement." She fought back tears again before continuing, her voice ragged. "How did we get into this? We need to get jobs, but how are we going to do that without giving ourselves away? We would have to get our nursing licenses transferred out here to work in this state, and I don't know what Colorado requires, so we need to research that. But these people ... these slavers are probably watching for an inquiry about our licenses. What are we going to do for an income?"

Bobby hugged her. "Same for Art. How can the FBI put him back to work? With what this ... group has already done, you know they will find and kill him if the FBI tries to use him as an agent again."

Struggling to control her emotions, Sandra took a deep breath, the anger showing in her voice. "The FBI set him up for this. They're the ones who sent him on that undercover thing. He did everything right, and now look what that got him. Surely they won't just abandon him. But ... he can't even talk to them. If he does, the slavers might find out. Oh, shit, if it weren't for the Matthews, what would we do? But I don't want to accept their charity, either."

Art, at Diana's suggestion, walked into the vanity area with Bobby and Sandra. He pulled them to him, encircling them in his arms. "Diana said you were having problems."

That started the tears again. "She gave us money — a lot of money," they both wailed.

"And she gave us money for you, too," Sandra said as she pressed a handful of bills into Art's hand.

"It's okay. It's okay," he soothed, glancing down at the money before putting it into a pocket. "Diana and Jeff are in the other room waiting for us. Jeff and I talked for a moment. Diana didn't mean to upset you. She was trying to make sure we didn't feel bad about not having any money. And Jeff was the one who put her up to it, anyway. I don't want charity any more than you do, but we're going to record this the way we have the money we spent on our clothes. We'll pay them back when I get access to my salary."

"We told you we have some money in the bank. Not as much as the FBI owes you for a year's work, but some," Bobby said. "And Baby, when we get married Monday night, what's ours is yours."

"Absolutely," Sandra seconded, then continued with, "We have some small amount of equity in our house, but with all the improvements we've made, the house is worth a lot more now than what we paid for it. I guess we need to have it appraised again. Mr. Grigsby and Mr. Whatley said the FBI would buy it to be used as a safe house, although I don't know if they will still want it after what's happened. But if they do and our improvements are considered, the equity will be a lot more and we'll have some extra money to help out with our future."

"That goes both ways. What's mine is yours, too." Art kissed each of them. "We need to go back to the others. They're probably waiting for us so we can all leave," he reminded.

They left the vanity area, walking through the bedroom into the sitting area where Jeff and Diana were waiting on the couch.

Jeff came to his feet. "I want to apologize. I just did a dumb thing. This wasn't Diana's fault; I told her to get you guys some spending money. I should have approached it differently. I didn't mean to belittle you. For what it's worth, my intentions were good. I ... Oh, crap. I don't know what to say, other than I apologize for the way we did this. We could have been a lot more subtle."

Art tried to grin. "I guess we're feeling a little ... vulnerable, and probably a bit too sensitive right now. We appreciate the money, and the thought behind it. We'll add it to our list so we can pay you back."

"And we're sorry we got our pride on our shoulders," Bobby said as she put her arm around Art and smiled at Diana and Jeff.

Diana stood beside Jeff, who put his arm around her and said, "The General is working on your problem, and he has a lot of resources. Let's give him some time to work through this. Things are going to be okay. Now ... we have a six-year-old genius who is dying to show off her costume. Shall we go trick or treating, or in this case, trunk or treating?" he asked, his grin spreading among them.

Shortly, they were all in the living room. Jeff turned away from the others and keyed his throat mike. Subvocalizing, "We're ready to roll."

"We'll be waiting at the bottom of the drive, Colonel."

As Diana started to turn down the hall toward the inside garage, Jeff tapped her shoulder. "We have plenty of drivers. Why don't you ride with me this time? We'll get the Spermans to ride with us, too."

Waving to Marcie and Steve, "Come on you two. Ride with us. Let's go out the back. I want to use my Expedition."

Selina had removed the floppy feet from her costume in order to walk better, and Diana was carrying the big head for her. Taking the child's free hand, "Let's go with Jeff."

"Certainly, my Queen."

Arlene and Ann, holding hands, laughing and talking with each other, followed closely behind the others.

It was obvious that Selina couldn't get her coat over the costume, and as thick as the costume was, a coat wouldn't be necessary once they were off the mountain. "I'll take it with us, anyway," Diana told the six-year-old. "After a while, you might want to take the costume off, especially when you're in the haunted house."

They met Security at the bottom of the drive. As they wound down the mountain, Jeff kept checking his mirrors. Glancing at his Queen beside him, "We're really a parade now. We're going to make one heck of an entrance when we pull into that churchyard. And ... what happened to the light supper you said we would have? I thought we were going to eat sandwiches or something before we left."

"All taken care of," Diana said with a grin he knew better than to challenge.

What have they cooked up now? But dammit, I'm hungry and this is bound to take several hours.

Diana smiled, guessing what he was thinking.

At Martha's restaurant, Caitlin, now off work, was waiting for them in her Escalade. The parade had barely stopped when Jessie and Alesha joined them in Jesse's pickup, followed shortly by Sheriff Tate and his women in his marked SUV. Left on Highway 40, they turned away from Winter Park.

Selina was sitting with the gremlin head in her lap. It was so big that she had to hold it to the side to see around it. "I shall be unable to don this head while in our vehicle," she fretted, "but everyone will see me put it on after I exit the vehicle."

Jeff glanced in the mirror for a second to lock eyes with the little genius. Trying to keep his face straight, he commented, "Di and I will stand by your door to block you from sight when you get out. She and Arlene will help you get the head on, and I'll help with the feet. No one will see you until the costume is complete."

"Thank you, my Prime."

"It seems like yesterday," Diana quietly said to her husband, referring to when Arlene had worn the costume. "She grew up so fast."

"Mooommmm," Arlene drawled out. "I heard that, and I haven't gone anywhere, moreover, I'm not going anywhere. Most kids leave home at some point, but I never will. I'm right where I want to be."

Jeff slid a hand over to squeeze his wife's for a moment. "I know," he said to his Queen. "It seems like I blinked and she was suddenly an adult."

"Guys," their daughter said, again stretching out her comment. "This is supposed to be a fun time, not a time for lamenting my childhood. And if it's bothering you so much, maybe we should talk about babies. Remember, I'm going to be first."

Steve and Marcie, now well aware of Arlene's status as a wife, and having already suspected it for a while prior to being told, burst out laughing with the rest of them. Jeff caught his daughter's eye in the mirror. She grinned and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Nope," Diana inserted, "the first one is mine."

In the mirror, he could see the look of determination on Arlene's and Ann's faces, and his heart seemed to skip a beat as he got a vivid mental image. Oh shit, the terrible twos, times fourteen,  he thought with a shudder.

-------

The little country church was set well back from the road. There were twenty vehicles lined up already, and several older teenage boys wearing orange vests were directing vehicles to their proper place. Visiting vehicles not participating in the trunk or treat were directed to a separate area a couple of hundred feet away.

The church couldn't afford a paved parking lot, but it was obvious someone had spent a lot of time with a snowplow and a snowblower on the gravel lot, for the large area was nicely clean of fresh snow.

As Jeff pulled into line and reached to shut off the ignition, he noticed the outside temperature on his instrument panel. "Thirty degrees (F). Twenty-five degrees warmer here in the valley than at home. Feels like a heat wave," he laughed as he opened his door.

Fred, driving Carla's large pickup, pulled in beside Jeff's SUV, and the rest of the family took their places in line, adding considerably to the cars, SUVs and pickups already there. Jeff grinned as he saw the Sheriff pull into line with the rest of them.

Jeff quickly walked around the vehicle, followed by Arlene. He, Diana and the others stood near Selina's door as she got out, then Diana and Arlene helped the child place the gremlin head on her shoulders and secure it in place.

"Oh, man, that thing looks real," Arlene giggled. "Let's get the feet on."

"What should I do?" Selina asked when the costume was complete, her voice muffled inside the big head.

Arlene stood back looking at her old costume. "Just walk around and let people see you. The rest will take care of itself. Just have fun."

"Let me get the hatch open and the candy arranged before that bunch of kids gets here," Jeff said, nodding to a group, who with several adults, were walking toward the Escalade. The others from the retreat, as well as the Tates, were opening their vehicles and preparing just as Jeff was.

Alesha and Jesse had brought their own candy. Jesse was already out of his "new" pickup and was putting the tailgate down as Alesha began bringing candy from the front and arranging the treats for the kids.

Jeff opened the hatch, as did the others in their little convoy, moving the candy so it would be easily accessible for the trunk or treat. Selina, costume in place, came walking to the back of the Expedition just as two five-year-old boys, wearing cheap costumes, one a ghost, the other a skeleton, came running up. Since Selina had been between the vehicles, the boys had not seen her until the last instant. "Trick or treat," the boys yelled out an instant before the three came together at the back of the SUV.

"Whoa," one of the boys yipped out as the two came to a sliding halt.

"What's that?" one said to the other, his voice shaky, as they both unconsciously backed-peddled.

Marcie stood with her hand over her mouth trying to not laugh out loud at the boys. Jeff sucked in a breath to keep from laughing. Arlene and Ann had giggles.

"It's ... Hey it's a gremlin, just like on TV," the first kid said to the other.

"Is it real? It can't be real ... can it?" the other said, his voice tapering off, a long way from being confident a gremlin wasn't standing in front of him.

"It looks real to me."

"Boo," Selina yelled from inside the costume, then added a growl with as deep a voice as she could while taking a step toward the kids.

Jeff had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. Selina's growl from the six-year-old girl's voice had little about it to generate fear, but there was an answering tiny growl from underneath Jeff's coat.

The boys, now back a few more steps, yelled for their friends to come look at the gremlin. They obviously knew the gremlin wasn't real, but they were still tentative about approaching closer. The trunk or treat was suddenly in full swing with the crowd gathering to see the gremlin, and to partake of the arrival of new sources for treats.

Later, after the initial rush of kids, Diana approached her husband. "Supper is over there at the end of the lot," she said, pointing to a hotdog stand that consisted of a small, gaily-painted building on a trailer. "We haven't had hotdogs in a long time. I thought you might like the change."

"Suppose they have enough for all of us?" Jeff asked.

Leaving at least one person with each vehicle to hand out treats, Diana grabbed her husband's arm to snuggle against him as they walked toward the hotdog trailer. "I called the preacher yesterday and told him how many of us there would be. He guaranteed we would not run out of hotdogs. The profits go to something they call their 'Helping Hands' program."

A few minutes later, Jeff and Diana left the stand with their hotdogs, chips and drinks, and she commented, "They surely aren't going to make a killing with their stand tonight — not with that cheap price. Come to think of it, it looks like our people are about the only customers."

Arlene and Ann left to escort Selina around the lot, and Jeff and Diana, sitting on the rear of the SUV, took over giving out candy and snacks while eating their hotdogs and potato chips.

No kids wanting candy at the moment, Jeff leaned over and kissed his wife's mustard and catsup lips. He liked it so much, he kissed her again.

"Nice to see people who have been married for a while who still love each other," Pastor Taylor said as he walked up.

"Sorry Pastor. We didn't see you," Diana responded.

Taylor stuck out his hand to Jeff, but when the pastor put his hand out to Diana, she stood to hug him, instead. After the hug, Diana took her seat by her husband on the tailgate of the SUV as Taylor went on. "Never be sorry for loving your spouse. There have been times when I've wished the couple I was counseling about their marriage would want to do what you two just did."

They chatted for a while, pausing to give out treats from time to time. Then, "I stopped by to thank the two of you."

"Us? For what?" Jeff said, knowing what was going to happen.

"Your gift, of course. And don't bother denying it. Anonymous or not, I know it came from you two, or however many there are of you now," he corrected.

"You don't sound as if my having multiple wives bothers you too much, Pastor," Jeff said, deciding to meet things head-on.

Taylor chuckled. "Oh, having multiple wives doesn't go with the teachings of our church, but it certainly happened in the Old Testament. And before you say anything more, my job isn't to judge. I was sent here many years ago to be a shepherd for my flock. I preach God and Jesus Christ. When asked, I advise according to the Bible. And tonight," he said, motioning to the crowd of people and the kids dressed in costumes, some bought, some homemade, "as far as this is concerned, most religions are a bit shy about demon and witch costumes, and things of that nature. Not to even mention Hallows' Eve, itself. We, of course, are calling the trunk or treat our fall festival. Oh, I could bury my head in the sand and forbid the trunk or treat, but then all these youngsters would be on the streets and roads running from house to house. Kids are killed every year on Halloween as they dash into traffic. And almost every year, we hear about kids being poisoned by some sicko. Here they're safe, and all it costs extra are the parents spending a little more time with their kids to bring them here and have an evening with their offspring.

"We have games set up for all ages in the church basement, and chaperones aplenty should some of the teenagers get a little out of line. And ... it looks like the kids will have all the candy and snacks they will be able to eat in a month, particularly after all of you got here. And lest we diverge too much from the subject, again, I want to thank you for that very generous donation."

As Jeff started to say something, and Diana sat blushing, Taylor went on. "I'll make sure you receive a receipt come the end of the year. The certified check came in with someone else's signature on it, but I managed to get his phone number. He's an accountant, and wouldn't tell me a thing, but he didn't have to. I know where the money originated.

"In addition to that anonymous donation to the church, several of our ranchers and farmers have received assistance from a foundation we've never heard of before. Know anything about that?" But he raised his hand slightly when Jeff started to answer. "No. Don't answer that. I'll not be guilty of forcing you to lie."

Jeff cleared his throat as an embarrassing silence drew on. "I need to ask you something."

"Sure, I'll answer anything I can. Something about God or the Bible?"

Jeff was shaking his head. "No, I, uh." There was a hesitation before he went quickly on. "How much profit do you expect from your hotdog sales tonight? We've noticed that few people are eating other than our group."

Taylor glanced toward the hotdog stand. "We had hoped for twenty-five dollars profit. But times are hard for many of these people. Most are farmers or ranchers. The farmers tend to swap vegetables for meat from the ranchers. The bottom line is that most have wholesome food at home, but they have little money to spend on anything extra, so sales will be very light tonight. They'll feed the kids when they get home."

Jeff turned to Diana. "How much money do you have in your purse?"

"Uh, a few hundred, I guess," she responded, smiling at her husband.

"Get it, please." Jeff opened his billfold and took out his money, with the exception of a couple of small bills. Diana handed her spouse what she had in her purse.

Jeff gave Taylor the money. "Why don't you go over and mark out the prices on your sign, and write 'FREE' over them."

"Uh, this is way more than ... You've already given..."

"That was then. This is now. Let's feed these people, Pastor."



-------

Chapter 150

Jeff had enjoyed walking around the church lot talking to some of the people who had helped with Carla's harvest. But he had even more fun when Billy started to occasionally stick his head out the front of Jeff's coat. One of the kids saw Billy and asked to hold him. When Jeff pulled Billy from under his coat and the kid saw the Superkitten outfit, the ten-year-old yelled out, "Hey, look! Superkitten!"

That brought kids running almost as quickly as the treats had. Too many hands reached to pet him as far as Billy was concerned. He became increasingly more agitated until Jeff allowed him to scramble back into the coat's inner pocket. There was a collective sigh from the crowd of children as Jeff left to return to Diana.

A couple of hours later, there were no more vehicles arriving at the trunk or treat. "No use taking all this home with us," Jeff said. Pointing, "That's Pastor Taylor's pickup. Need I say more?"

Laughing, Jeff's younger wives, along with Tate's nieces, grabbed up boxes of candy and treats from all the group's vehicles, and headed for the pickup.

"You'll dispose of the extras for us won't you, Pastor?" Jeff hollered out to Taylor who was standing on the other side of the lot talking to some of his church members.

"I certainly will," Taylor yelled back, "and thank you."

Diana and Arlene helped Selina remove the gremlin head, then the rest of the costume. The little genius supervised folding and securing it in the rear of the SUV. "I hope I shall be allowed to wear this again next year," she said, wistfully as she lovingly touched the costume one more time before Jeff closed the hatch.

"I don't know of any reason why you shouldn't," Diana said, hugging the six-year-old. "If you wish, you may wear it for our party tonight, but you obviously won't be able to eat or help us serve while you're wearing it."

Selina thought for an instant, then, "Certainly not. I would never risk damaging the costume. I shall wait to wear it again next Halloween."

Diana smiled and hugged her. "It will be shrouded in plastic to keep it clean, and hung in the closet awaiting you."

Inside the vehicle as Jeff backed out and turned for the road, Selina continued with, "I had a marvelous time. I thank you, Arlene, for allowing me to wear your costume. And I thank you, my Queen, for your having spent all of those hours creating it. I have, of course, observed children wearing costumes, but I did not previously realize how much enjoyment is associated with participation in the event. I am saddened that it is over, but I am already anticipating next year."

"Oh, but our Halloween isn't over," Diana said from the front. "We still have the haunted house, then our own party."

"I shall wish to call my parents to inform them of tonight's events. I am certain my mother dressed me in costume when I was much younger, but I eventually refused to participate. That could well have been a mistake on my part. I do not perceive why a pretend haunted house would be an attraction. However, in lieu of what has occurred at the trunk or treat, I shall withhold judgment and participate in this event, also."

When Jeff and his caravan pulled into the driveway of the haunted house, there was only one vehicle there, and those people were leaving the house as Jeff and his group parked.

"Looks like they'll be closing up early," the Prime commented as they exited their vehicle.

Fred and his group had parked beside them. Having heard Jeff's comment, Carla responded. "Weekend or not, farmers and ranchers have to get up early."

Jeff hesitated for a second as Lieutenant Mayfield told him via the radio that they had cleared the haunted house.

Diana came around the vehicle, put an arm around her husband, "We go to bed early, too," she said with a little chuckle. "He has fourteen wives to take care of before going to sleep."

Sheriff Tate stood near his vehicle talking to the people who had just left the house.

Fred walked up, and having heard part of Diana's comment, asked, "What are we talking about?"

"Oh, I was just telling them about shopping for more mates for you," Carla answered, seemingly very serious as she teased her man.

"What? No way, Woman. I have all the women I can take care of. I..."

Diana's and Carla's laughter clued him in that he might have been had, but he wasn't sure just how.

"Let's go," Arlene yelled from the steps of the house.

Jeff looked around for someone to hold Billy.

"Uh, Steve, are you and Marcie going through the house right now?"

Steven shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no. We've been through it many times in past years. We'll just await your return."

"Could you hold Billy for me while I go through?"

"We'd be glad to," Marcie spoke up.

But there was only one problem — Billy. He vehemently did not want to leave Jeff. After several attempts with a howling Billy clinging to Jeff, the Prime gave up. "Okay, Little Dude," the Prime said as he adjusted Billy's horns back to their proper place on his head. "That house is probably going to be loud. You might wish you had stayed out here."

"Mmmeeeow," the kitten said as he scrambled to get back under Jeff's coat. Billy tucked away, the Prime held his arm against his side as he had been doing all night to keep Billy from falling out the bottom of the coat. This time, Billy continued to wiggle around. Jeff suddenly remembered the heavy coat had an inner pocket and realized that Billy was trying to get into it. Opening the coat a little, he pulled the pocket open more as a happy Billy wiggled inside, then looked back up at the Prime with his big kitten eyes.

"Mmeeow."

"'Mmeeow, ' back at you," Jeff laughed as he zipped his coat partially closed. "I guess he's going with us," he told the others.

"Where do we pay?" Diana asked, looking around for someone who might be taking money.

Carla chuckled for a moment. "They don't charge. The people who do this just do it for fun, and to entertain the kids."

"Oh," Jeff and Diana chorused.

The haunted house was a big old rambling farmhouse that now belonged to one of the farmers after his aged grandfather and grandmother had died years ago. The farmer and his buddies had built in trapdoors and false walls. In daylight, most of this would be evident, but in the dark with flickering lighting barely sufficient to see by, and with props, "spider webs," and other things to distract, no one noticed. Well, no one but Jeff. His night vision and phenomenal hearing revealed everything, but the anticipation of the others' reactions to what he knew was coming, made the trip worthwhile for him.

A sign by the front door suggested that groups should be limited to a maximum of six, but the women insisted that Jeff accompany them, so they wound up with seven in the first group. As usual, the women did the choosing about who would go with whom. Diana, Arlene, Ann, Jennie, Melissa and Selina clustered around their Prime to be the first to "brave" the denizens of the haunted house.

Recorded and magnified sounds consisting of maniacal laughter, dragging chains, thumps, and hideous screams assaulted their hearing. Interspersed, there were periods of total silence followed by banging sounds as trap doors sprang open and skeletons or ghosts rushed across the rooms.

One room had an old, but real casket, partially filled with a bed of dirt with a vampire "sleeping" in it. Jeff had followed a couple of steps behind the females. Selina had looked bored as a skeleton fled across the room and out a barely-seen door. Maniacal laughter hurt their ears with its volume. There was the sound of something falling and a hideous scream that followed. The lighting went out totally for thirty seconds, followed by a sound from behind them. The light came on enough for them to make out the casket as the vampire that they had been certain was a dummy, sat up, stepped out of the casket and came after them, his massive canine teeth glowing green in the near darkness under the ultraviolet light shining on him. At the last instant, the weak lighting went out and the vampire disappeared.

Jeff doubted if any of the women had seen the trap door that Dracula had dropped through. The Prime staggered back as the women, screaming, swarmed him. Selina, unfazed, stood laughing.

"But he just..." Selina got out as Jeff put two fingers against her mouth. "Oh," she quietly said.

Jeff fought back laughter, but none of his women seemed to think that Dracula suddenly coming to life was very funny. I didn't go over and look at him closely since I thought he was a manikin, but I never suspected the "vampire" was a real man. He is damn good. Ann even touched him while he was lying there in the casket, and she obviously didn't think he was real.

As they progressed through the house, they could hear Fred's group experiencing the things Jeff's group had experienced a few moments earlier.

In another room, sticky spider webs pulled at their clothing while a moment later a spider a foot in diameter dropped on Jennie, then was snatched away by a near-invisible black line before a screaming young wife, her terror suddenly turned to fury, could extract vengeance on the rubber arachnid.

In the next room, they stumbled in near darkness. As they made their way cautiously across the room, a feeble light came on spotlighting a body bent over at the base of a guillotine. An instant later, the blade of the guillotine came crashing down and the "head," squirting "blood," rolled down a short ramp directly toward them. Jeff had to admit, in the darkened room the "person" crouched on the guillotine looked real, not to mention the severed "head."

Jeff didn't know whether Selina screamed on that one or not. If she did, the others drowned her out.

Jeff had kept one hand inside his coat much of the time to soothe Billy, sometimes even gently pushing the kitten's ears flat against his head to help muffle the sounds. Billy had hissed and growled a few times, but otherwise seemed to be little perturbed by the loud sounds. Jeff wondered if the kitten were keying on his (Jeff's) emotions. If Jeff wasn't upset, then the kitten was minimally upset at most.

The Prime had paid special attention to the little genius. There was a sign on the front door cautioning parents to escort and to be very observant of any children under ten, and the sign forbade children under six, totally.

Near the back of the house as they crept along a hallway in near darkness, a woman let out a blood-curdling scream. The lights came up slightly, and a second later, the woman burst into the hallway, her face dripping "blood" as she rushed past screaming for them to run for their lives. An instant later, a giant of a man stepped into the hallway carrying an equally large chain saw. Looking in their direction, he yanked the starter rope. The saw roared to life as he charged toward them, yelling, "Come back here, Woman! I'm not done with you yet."

None of Jeff's women took time to focus on the saw long enough to note that it had no chain. It was, indeed, a real chain saw, and a big one at that, not to mention loud in the confines of the hallway, but there was nothing on the saw to cut with.

But ... Selina stood her ground, laughing, although she was holding her ears as she did so. "Turn that device off," she yelled out. "It is much too noisy."

The big man froze almost in mid-stride, looked down at the child who was now standing in front of him, feet spread and her hands on her hips. He shut the saw off, and after a moment of stunned silence, sank down on the floor, his back propped against the wall as he bellowed out his laughter. Selina sat beside him, her tiny giggles joining with his laughter. After a moment, he choked out, "Todd is never going to believe this. Everybody ran but the little girl. What's your name, Honey?" he finally managed when he was in control of his laughter.

"Selina."

"Well, glad to meet you, Selina. I'm Dan," he said, holding out a big hand to take the child's tiny hand in his. Looking up at Jeff, he continued, "That last made all the work we've put into this worthwhile. Every woman, girl or boy and some of the men who came through here tonight ran when I jumped out into the hall and cranked this saw," he said, patting the tool on the floor beside him, "but this little thing just stood there laughing at me."

Although Jeff knew that pretending to be terrified was much of the fun for his women, he was still amused and proud of the little genius as she sat laughing with the big man. By then, all the Prime's women were back and had joined in with the laughter.

"That is one gimungous chain saw," Arlene said.

"Yeah, I used to cut timber for a sideline job when my crops were laid by."

Hearing the next group coming, "Come on, May, we need to set up again," the man said to his counterpart who had returned back by then.

Giggling, his wife took his hand as he stood. Picking up his chain saw, the man escorted his wife back into the room to wait for the next group.

"That was fun," Selina said.

"Go," Diana said, laughing, shoving her husband toward the now-visible "EXIT" sign on the back door. Laughing, they all followed the Prime and his Queen.

Hope went through the haunted house with Art, Sandra and Bobby, but also went through with one of Jeff's groups. Tate and his group went through twice, the nieces in particular, having a ball.

Jeff got to go through the house several more times to escort his other wives. Since the Matthews' groups were the last for the night, the people who were operating the haunted house came out to talk after the last group had been through. The big man who had scared them with the chainsaw, and his wife sat on a short concrete block wall with Selina sitting beside him, Billy snuggled on her shoulder.

Shortly, Billy, tired of the cold, wormed his way under the collar of his mistress' coat. As Jeff walked over, the man stood. "You have a fine daughter here, Mr. Matthews."

"Just Jeff, and thank you," the Prime said, but not correcting him about Selina, wondering if the man really thought Selina was his, and also wondering what Selina had told him. "You helped with Carla's harvest, didn't you, uh, Dan," Jeff asked, remembering his name.

"Yeah, my crops were in, and I was working a part time job when we got the call that Carla needed help. I only got to help one day, though. My boss wouldn't let me off work any longer. Good to see you again."

"You too. Nice job in there."

"Thank you. May and I really enjoy doing it."

A couple minutes later, Frank walked over to the man and Jeff went to sit in his SUV with Diana. He could see Dan shaking his head as he and Frank conversed. As Jeff and the others waited, Frank's conversation finally finished with the big man. When Frank came back, Jeff slid his window down to talk.

"I finally got him to take something," Wainwright said, leaning close and lowering his voice. "If it hadn't been for his wife, I don't think he would have taken it even then, but she mentioned something about ideas they had had for several years, and he finally gave in and said they would put the money in the fund to buy equipment and supplies for next year's haunted house. It's obvious that they have spent a lot of time and thought in there."

"It's the best one I've ever seen," Jeff commented.

"What were the ideas?" Diana asked, leaning over to better see Frank through the window.

Laughing, Frank said, "Not going to tell you. I had to agree to tell no one before he would take the money."

A pickup turned into the long driveway and came toward them, the driver obviously in somewhat of a hurry. Carter, standing ten feet or so away, moved to put himself between Jeff and the pickup. Security came to full alert. "Stand down," Jeff subvocalized on his radio as the pickup drew near and he could see through the windshield. "I know them," he added as he stepped out of the Expedition.

Carter glanced over his shoulder as Jeff added aloud, "They're part of a construction crew we got to know a while back. They're good people."

"Yes, Sir," the big man responded as he moved aside to lean against one of the SUVs nearby. Jeff knew that Carter's apparent relaxed state meant nothing.

The pickup came to a stop twenty feet or so away, and Jeremy got out. "Hey, Mr. Matthews. Could we speak with you for a moment?"

(Jeremy, Denise and Connie are the three construction workers who helped install the silos at Carla's farm, and later began living together.)

"Sure," Jeff said walking over as Denise and Connie got out and walked around the front of the pickup to meet him. Diana and Arlene exited Jeff's SUV to join the group.

After the exchange of greetings, Jeremy turned back to Jeff. "We won't keep you, Mr. Matthews, but we would like to set up an appointment to talk with you, if we could."

"Oh, that sounds so formal," Diana said. "What's wrong?"

"Uh..." Jeremy started.

"The owner of our company had a heart attack. He survived, but he has major issues, and he's going to retire and sell the company to a competitor. If he does, there's no way we'll have a job," Denise offered.

"Oh, my goodness," Diana said.

"Look," Jeremy said, "we don't want to interfere with your fun. Can we set up a time to talk? We have some ideas."

"Tomorrow morning?" Jeff said as a question/statement to Jeremy and Diana both.

"That sounds fine," his Queen agreed.

"Tomorrow is good for us. What time?" Jeremy asked.

"Ten would work," Jeff responded. "You?"

"That's fine," Jeremy said.

"We'll have lunch afterward," Diana proposed.

"Oh, no Ma'am. We couldn't do that," Denise objected.

"What's all this formal stuff? We all worked together a few weeks ago. I'm still just Diana."

"Yes, Ma... , uh Diana. But..."

"But nothing. We would be tickled to have you for lunch. Do you know how to get to the Retreat?"

Both Denise and Connie turned to Jeremy. "We're not that familiar with the area, but I think we can find it. We got your address on the Internet."

"If you're counting on a GPS, you might have problems," Arlene laughed.

Jeff stepped back to the Expedition and got a small pad out of the glove compartment. He quickly drew a rough map. "The little county road here," he said pointing to his map, "doesn't have a road sign at the turn. There are only a few houses on the road other than ours, and most of them are well down the mountain away from our home. Just watch for the turn here, and you'll be fine. The last county road dead ends at our driveway."

Jeff didn't say anything about the ski resort, because the road was now blocked just past the Retreat's driveway.

"We'll be there at ten. Sorry to interrupt your night."

Jeff shook his head. "Nonsense, you didn't interrupt anything. We'll be expecting you. Oh, by the way, follow the driveway on around to the back of the Retreat. We seldom use the front entrance; it's way too formal."

"About our driveway, don't look down into the abyss if heights bother you," Arlene offered.

"Remember what we do for a living," Connie said with a chuckle.

"Oops, forgot about that," Arlene admitted with a giggle. "See you guys in the morning."

Soon, the parade was winding its way back up the mountain.

-------

At the Retreat, the wind had picked up. Jeff stopped at the back door to let the Spermans and the women out so they wouldn't have to walk across the lot in the cold.

"I shall remain with you while you park the vehicle," Selina stated as she handed Billy to Jeff to hold for a moment while she scrambled into the front seat. The Prime smiled at her as she snapped her seatbelt to ride the short distance across the lot. She grinned back at him, recognizing the irony. "If I latch the belt on every occasion, I shall be secure should the need ever arise," she reasoned as she took Billy back.

Jeff couldn't argue with that.

Jesse parked his truck in the back as usual, and he and Alesha hurried inside to get out of the wind as Jeff and Selina drove over to the outside garage. Sheriff Tate pulled in a moment later and he and his women went inside the Retreat.

In the garage, when Jeff and Selina got out of the Expedition, Jeff took the kitten and secured him in the pocket of his coat. In the cold as the bay door came down, Jeff picked up a squealing Selina and placed her on his shoulders. She held the sides of his head as he grabbed her legs and jogged toward the back door.

"I have never done that," she said, somewhat breathless, as Jeff put her on the stoop. "It was fun."

Inside, Selina hung up her coat and reached in Jeff's coat pocket to get her kitten. After carefully placing Billy on her shoulder while Jeff hung up his coat, she took his hand. As they walked down the hall, "Thank you, Da ... uh, my Prime," Selina quickly corrected. "Admittedly I had misgivings about tonight, however, I confess I thoroughly enjoyed myself after we arrived at the trunk or treat. I was greatly amused at the children's reaction to the gremlin costume. The younger children were certain I was a real gremlin, and the older children were awed by the realism of my Queen's work. Several adults had questions regarding where my mother had purchased the costume. When I responded that Mrs. Matthews had created it, they were suitably impressed. I shall remember the experience of wearing the costume for a considerable time to come. And the haunted house was a blast," she finished with a little grin, proud of her use of the idiom that Jeff's younger wives frequently employed.

"I think Diana and Arlene are just as pleased. I know that Diana worked on that costume for a long time when she made it, and it was obvious that she was thrilled to see you in it tonight. And Arlene always loved the costume, particularly when she kept winning contests with it. She was grinning from ear to ear when she saw all those kids following you around the lot tonight."

Selina stopped, looked up at Jeff with a serious expression on her face and said, "I feel that this is now my home, not just my place of residence while attending an exclusive school. I have deep affection for my parents, of course. However, I sincerely hope they do not insist I return to them — ever. I would enjoy a short visit — perhaps next summer — but other than that, I, like Arlene, wish to remain here for the foreseeable future. Long into the foreseeable future," she amended.

"You might well feel differently in a few years..." Jeff started.

But Selina interrupted with, "I realize that a child's mind frequently changes." She thought for a moment, then, "Remember, however, that I am not a normal child. Perhaps your comment of 'welcome home, ' best expresses it. I am home, and I wish that to continue. Only time will tell which of us is correct."

Jeff sighed. "That's true, but puberty and young adulthood are in your future, and viewpoints frequently change during those transition years. Know, however, that you are welcome here as part of our family, forever. More and more you feel like my daughter."

She smiled up at him as she took his hand. "I am where I wish to be. It is obvious that you suspect my feelings will change in the future, but respectfully, my Prime, you are in error. I might be absent for short periods of time to further my education, visit my parents, or travel, but this shall remain my home, and I shall never leave for an extended period of time — if I remain welcome," she finished, her voice teasing.

Jeff reached around with his other hand to tickle her. Laughing, they continued down the hall.

As they neared the living room where Susan stood outside the closed door, "All the men have gone to Dave and Evie's apartment. We'll call you when we're ready," she said as she pulled his head down to kiss him forcefully for a moment.

Jeff stood looking at her, then reached out to put his hands on her sides just under her breasts. He gently pulled her to him and kissed her. "Why the secrecy, Wife? I thought all this was for Nat, Nicki and Whitney, but they're helping, along with the rest of the women."

"It is for them, as well as all of us. But getting the food and other things ready is at least half the fun. They get to participate in something they probably have never even thought about before. Now go sit with the other men and let us do our thing. I think you and the others will enjoy tonight — especially Art," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Taking Selina's hand, the ladies left to help the other women with the food preparations.

When Jeff walked into Dave's apartment, Dave was making coffee in the kitchen as the other men sat at the table. Art seemed preoccupied, barely participating in the conversation.

"At ease my new brother," Jeff said teasingly as he walked by and touched Art's shoulder for a second. "Selina is going to be at the party. She's helping to get things ready now. No way is she going to bed before the party. With her there, the costumes will have to be decent for a six-year-old, so I think we're safe."

Art thanked Dave as he poured coffee. The young agent took a sip of the black brew, then turned to Jeff. "We looked at those painted-on costumes, and a few minutes later, they placed the orders. They ran me out of the suite yesterday, supposedly to do something about Halloween. We haven't known each other long, and a good bit of that time, I was out of it, either unconscious, or drugged up with pain meds."

Tate raised an eyebrow.

"We'll fill you in later," Jeff offered when he saw the expression on Tate's face.

"Okay," Quinton responded.

"But you love them?" Jeff said as he sampled his own coffee.

"Oh, hell yeah. But I've never been in love before. It ... Oh, Crap, I really don't know anything about them, other than what they've told me..."

"Alphas and their mates fall in love quickly. Once an Alpha meets the right woman, or women, as the case may be, it's all over. Each of us here will tell you that, including Jesse, I imagine."

"Well, I guess that makes me feel a little better. I couldn't understand why I just fell head over heels in love with them, and apparently, they did with me."

Dave looked over at Art and chuckled. "You told us you haven't had sex with them yet." At Art's nod, Dave went on, "Chalk it up my young friend. Monday night is going to be an experience you will never forget."



-------

Chapter 151

The apartment door opened, and Diana walked in with Alesha following. Diana was pushing the cart bearing the blocking equipment. Jeff raised an eyebrow, as she pushed the cart into Dave and Evie's kitchen, but smiled as he was doing so. "Yeah, I agree," he told his wife, "It's time."

"I mentioned the block to Alesha and she agreed to it. I need to go and talk with Virginia and the others."

"Block?" Jesse and Alesha asked as one.

"We have some things that we need to tell you guys," the Prime replied, "but we can't do it unless you accept a block that will keep you from discussing our secrets."

Diana kissed her husband, said, "Have fun. I'll brief the others and send them down for the blocks. We'll call you when the food is ready." With that, she was out the door.

Jesse shifted to look at Jeff. "Do those secrets include the security people at the bottom of the drive? I came in behind an UPS truck a week or so ago. Your security person just stepped into the back of the UPS truck for a few seconds and sent the truck on. I know you would never accept that if they were truly sloppy. How could he check that truck so quickly? How can they always know me by name, even though there is frequently a different person on duty? It's as though they're well aware that I'm coming. They all seem to be smart, and ... disciplined. Plus, those helmets have a faceplate that slides out of the top of the helmet. I've never seen a helmet that looks like those. The security officer always talks to me with the faceplate retracted, yet he or she invariably has it in place before he seems to just glance into the cab and bed of my pickup. They're either terribly sloppy about their searches, or they have technology that I wish we had at the Sheriff's department. And ... I vote for the technology angle."

Alesha motioned for Jesse to move his chair back from the table a bit, then sat in his lap as Jesse continued. "There are other things. Things seemingly almost said, when the person speaking suddenly stops, then abruptly changes the subject. Oh, everyone has been subtle about it, but ... hell, I'm a cop. Curiosity is my business. Something..."

Quinton remained silent, his face introspective.

"Coffee or a soft drink?" Dave asked Alesha as he put down a cup for Jesse and Quinton, knowing they would drink coffee.

"Coke," Alesha said.

When Bill had poured the coffee and Dave had gotten Alesha her coke, Jeff spoke up. "This is long overdue, but you guys haven't been around much lately. The two of you saved Joyce's life, and for that I'll be forever in your debt. All I can do is ask you to trust me. This block will make certain you never let any of our affairs slip to the wrong person. If you try to, you'll receive a warning with a flash of nausea. If you persist in trying, the nausea will worsen. Trust me on this; it is not pleasant, otherwise, you'll never notice the block. I swear to you that this will not harm you in any way, other than what I've just mentioned."

Art caught their attention. "Sandra, Bobby and I have just had it done to us. I certainly haven't tried to tell anyone any of the family's secrets, so I can't speak to the nausea, but neither of us can detect that we even have a block."

"Doesn't matter," Alesha spoke up. "After what the Matthews have done for me, I don't need any encouragement other than Diana wanting me to do it. I'm ready."

"Same here," Jesse said.

"Who's first?" Jeff asked.

"I am," Alesha said.

"I thought that the man was supposed to go into danger first," Jesse teased.

"They just told us there is no danger," she replied with a smirk. "So I'm first."

"Oops, forgot. We have two helmets," Jeff said, holding them up.

"Then we'll go together," Alesha laughed.

"Let's get this moved into the living room where we can all be comfortable."

A few minutes later, only seconds apart, Alesha and Jesse opened their eyes. "Did..."

"Yep."

"Diana told me I wouldn't feel anything, and I don't." Alesha looked at her watch. "Di also told me to note the time before and after. It's been ten minutes, I guess, but it surely doesn't feel like it."

"Never does," the Prime answered.

Jesse sat quietly.

"Now, do I get to hear some secrets?" Alesha asked. Before Jeff could answer, she went on, "Just teasing. Di said she would talk to me while we're fixing the meal." After touching her lips to Jesse's for a second, she was out the door.

I wonder if those two are making love yet,  Jeff thought. I know they said they were going to wait until they got married, but Alesha has spent several nights with him at his house. She still doesn't have an engagement ring on her finger. Jesse needs to make her his before she gets away. She's a darn good looking woman. Suddenly Jeff's thought processes took another turn as he focused on Jesse. That block did something to him.

Shit. How could I have missed it? I knew he had to be an Alpha, but somehow I couldn't read him before. "Jesse, you're an Alpha," Jeff blurted in his enthusiasm. "You've been hiding it, somehow. But now I can see it, uh, feel it, I guess you could say. How can you hide it? No wonder you're a good cop."

Jesse sat up straighter, but didn't say anything for a moment, then, "What's an Alpha? I've heard you guys use the term, but I didn't really know what you were talking about."

"We have a lot to tell you, and the few minutes we have now isn't nearly enough time."

Jesse looked at Jeff. "I thought you said I wouldn't feel any different, but I do. It's like ... something opened up inside me. I..."

Jeff stuck out his hand. "Welcome home — Brother."

Diana came in with the other women. "Fresh meat," she said, smiling.

Tate stood and went over to talk to his women. Shortly, the others took their turns under the helmet.

-------

The women were back in the kitchen, and the men were relaxing in Dave's living room. Art was back to discussing Sandra and Bobby as Jesse sat quietly after asking and receiving answers to a number of questions, his mind awhirl.

"I don't want to appear henpecked," Art said. "But I let them choose my tuxedo for the wedding and I agreed to wear anything they wished for Halloween. I haven't known them long, and a good portion of that time I was in the hospital more or less blown away on pain meds. But I swear I love them — both."

"I know they love you, Art. I can ... feel their love for you, just as I can feel your love for them when they walk up to you," Jeff quietly said. "Don't ask me how; I just do."

Art hesitated, then, "Oh, hell. I'm not really worried about what they're going to wear, but I am not going to go around in that painted-on outfit in front of all of you guys."

"Painted on?" Jesse said, beginning to worry. Tate had a bemused look on his face. Jesse went on, "Diana and Alesha talked on the phone a couple of days ago, but Alesha wouldn't tell me what they discussed. She just smiled at me when I asked."

Frank sat up straighter. "You don't suppose all the women bought paint ... No, Margaret and Tina would never do that to me ... If they wanted to wear it to the party, I wouldn't be pleased, but I would allow it, I guess. But surely they don't expect ... No way am I going to parade around practically nude in front of you guys. Oh, crap..."

Dave slowly set his cup on the coffee table. "They could have a regular party while Selina was up, then send her off to bed. That's when the adult costumes will probably come out. But surely Evie would have told me ... Oh, fuck. I'm with Frank. I guess I wouldn't be too upset if my women decided to wear painted-on costumes. I mean, I'm proud of the way they look, but you said there was a male version of the costume, right?" he finished, looking at Art who nodded his agreement.

Bill began to look worried, too.

Tate, knowing his women hadn't been involved in any painted on costumes, sat relieved, then the thought struck him. They haven't mentioned anything like that, but... 

-------

Thirty minutes later, all having convinced themselves that they were totally relaxed and in control, Jeff, Dave, Frank and Bill were laughing and teasing Art about what was going to happen to him on his wedding night. Jesse just sipped his coffee and listened to the banter. The phone rang, causing those supposedly perfectly calm men to jump, then look guiltily at each other.

Dave answered. After listening for a moment, "Thanks. We're on the way."

The men handed Dave their cups as he stood at the sink to rinse them. None of the Alphas voiced what they were all thinking. All but Jesse. He wasn't worried about nude costumes, but he was still wondering what an Alpha was, or what the big secrets were that the Matthews had.

"We'll talk when we have more time," Jeff said while putting a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "We'll have a long talk first thing in the morning."

The men walked down the hall expecting to go to the living room, but Selina was standing by the door to the smaller dining room. With a perfect curtsy, she said, "Enter, please, gentlemen," and opened the door.

Wondering, the men stepped into the dining room where the steam table was set up. The tables were adorned with Halloween tablecloths, and a couple of the Jack O'Lanterns were nearby, but otherwise, it was a normal supper. Jeff looked a question at Diana.

"We decided those hot dogs would never hold our Alphas tonight. We'll have finger food at the party, but we thought you guys might appreciate a steak. I strongly suspect you're going to need it before the night is out."

There was a titter of laughter from the women, and an eye roll from Selina. Sex,  she thought as she shuddered. Icky subject.

-------

"Aren't you going to eat?" Jeff asked Diana.

"The finger food at the party will be plenty for us, but we knew a couple of hot dogs and what we have for the party would never keep an Alpha, so we decided to cook up some steaks for you guys. Besides, we want you to keep your strength up."

What's she talking about? Jeff thought. I make love to them every night. Is she planning an all-nighter or something?

But Diana proved to be right, nonetheless. The Alphas had only eaten a couple of hotdogs apiece, worried there would not be enough for everyone at the trunk or treat if they pigged out. Jeff was ready for a steak, and from the looks of the other men gathering around the steam table, they weren't averse to the idea, either.

While the men were eating their steaks, Diana and the other women and girls were making last-minute preparations and transferring the Halloween food to the living room.

Arlene removed a large tray of monster toes from the oven and put the tray on the counter to be finished. Hope transferred the toes to platters and squeezed on the mustard for the toenails, while Nat, Nicki and Whitney put catsup on the "severed" end of the toes and spread some around the platter to look like puddles of blood. As Diana stopped to watch, "The men won't be hungry after eating a steak, will they?" Hope asked, worried.

Laura stopped by and chuckled. "And just how many of those little wieners do you suppose those five enhanced Alphas can eat, hmmm?"

"But we have tons of other stuff..."

" ... that will be eaten before the night is out," Helen injected. "Alphas eat a lot, and most of the rest of us are hungry. I for one am ravenous."

Alesha joined the conversation. "I keep hearing the word, but I have no real idea what an Alpha is."

"We could discuss that for the next hour or more," Diana chimed in, "and unless you're mated to an Alpha, our explanations would make little sense, and would probably sound outlandish. That said, though, tomorrow, we'll have a nice chat and I'll tell you what I think an Alpha is. We'll also introduce you to Little One and get you and Jesse enhanced like the rest of us." Diana hugged the puzzled young woman. "Now, let's get all this food in the living room and our party started. Sandra and Bobby have a surprise for everyone."

The two nurses, laden with food as they walked by, smiled, but kept going.

-------

Steve Sperman pushed back from the table. "That was a fine steak. A fine steak," he repeated, patting his belly.

"Most of us ate two," Jeff said. "You sure you don't want another."

"No. No. I want to leave room for all that Halloween food the women are talking about. I saw several very impressive looking cakes go across the hall as we came in here. And unless my nose is misleading me, I smell pizza."

As the men finished up, the dining room door opened and Nat, Nicki and Whitney stepped just inside. To say that their mood was bubbling would fall short of describing their joy and enthusiasm. "Come on," Nat said, almost jumping up and down in her excitement.

Nat: "All the decorations..."

Nicki: " ... are in place, and..."

Whitney: " ... the food is ready," the three said without a break in their speech.

As the men exited the dining room and walked the few steps down the hall to the living room, Diana stood close to the door, waiting. As Jeff stopped beside her, she whispered into his ear, "Just look at them. I'm so glad we did this."

The three girls had preceded the group into the living room. Hay bales lined three sides of a large area, some of the bales stacked head high with other bales scattered around to sit on. One large food table sat in the middle of the open space, with numerous smaller ones nestled in niches about the area. Jennie stood beside a "boiling witches caldron" of punch made from a mixture of ginger ale and sparkling cider with a "bloody hand" of frozen cranberry and raspberry juice floating in it. "Smoke" (dry ice chips just slid into the punch by Hope) added to the eerie effect of the mood lighting in the darkened room.

The pizzas that Steve had smelled were three inch mummy-faces. They were covered in white string cheese, the cheese pulled apart to make a mouth and nose. Black olives slices made eyes. Large platters displayed the two types of monster toes. A tremendous pile of spicy "bat wings" sat on a huge platter in the middle of the decorated table. The "bat wings" were cut from boneless chicken breasts. Eyeball tacos, mashed potato ghosts, spider mice, deviled mice. The list of food went on and on, all of it looking creepy, but tasting great, anyway.

On the dessert table, identical large pumpkin cakes, looking like Jack O'Lanterns, sat on either end. A platter piled high with black "spider" cakes, their multiple candy eyes shining and their eight legs making them look eerily real, sat next to a platter of mummy cupcakes. Four watermelon brains lined the back side of the table. Creepy crawly gelatin, ghost cookies, orange ooze cupcakes, black rats, pumpkin cookies, on and on. Jeff, his big plate piled high with food, stood talking to Hope as he admired her watermelon brain creations.

"I can't cut that," Jeff said as Hope handed him a knife for the watermelon. "It would be a disgrace to..."

Hope took the knife back from him and expertly cut the melon into small pieces. Handing him a bowl of watermelon, she giggled, her mood soaring from Jeff's praise. "We can have watermelon brains anytime. Peeling them is the hardest part and Arlene and Ann did all of that for me."

Hidden speakers quietly played the sounds of Halloween: screeches, maniacal laughter, dragging chains and some type of string music barely heard. This with the numerous Jack O'Lanterns, the mood lighting, and the "barn loft" combined to produce an air of the unknown.

As the meal wound down, Steve began telling a ghost story as Arlene lowered the lights even more. She shivered and looked at her father for a second, seeing him wink back at her. Sandra and Bobby slipped out the door while the others were distracted by the story. When Steve finished his story, Frank Wainwright told one. As Frank's story was drawing to a close, Arlene keyed the remote to the sound system and also brought the lights up a little. At first, the odd music was barely loud enough to be heard.

As the volume gradually increased to a reasonable level, everyone recognized the almost discordant sounds of belly dancing music. From a narrow gap in the bales at the end of the "barn loft", two figures appeared, dressed in flowing garb. Art choked back an exclamation as Bobby and Sandra, in absolutely perfect sync, undulated into the room. Their hair was caught at the back and a little to the side of their heads, causing their flowing manes to cascade down their left shoulders.

Each wore an identical costume, save the color. Bobby's was red, and Sandra's was purple. Each wore a wide sequined bra adorned with many tiny coins suspended from thin chains in a looping design. Their bellies were bare. Diaphanous floor-length skirts, made of a semi-transparent material, swirled outward as they danced. Both sides of each skirt were split from the floor high up their legs, and as they moved the skirts showed tights worn underneath for modesty. An elaborately decorated belt about eighteen inches wide surrounded their hips. It, like the bra, had numerous thin chains, each chain supporting a golden coin or tiny bell that chimed and rang as they moved.

Thin chains about their bare ankles supported more tiny bells that tinkled and chimed as they danced. Finger cymbals clattered out the complicated rhythm as they danced across the room to stop before Art. Continuing their routine before him, their hips swaying, they danced side-by-side, circled each other, and after a while, circled the whole area to dance for a short period of time near each person present.

Although Art knew nothing about belly dancing, he would later learn some of the terms: hip bumps, shoulder shimmies, rib slices, rib lifts, hip circles, hip sway, slide and circle, pelvic scoop, and more. Eventually, at his mates' insistence, he would try some of the moves, only to be appalled at the amount of energy each technique took as his mates laughed along with him. For now, he sat and stared at them — at their obvious professionalism. They never misstepped, never lost perfect synchronization, enthralling their audience to absolute silence.

With a crash, the music ended and they knelt before their soon-to-be husband, their arms extended to him, both of the young women breathing hard after the prolonged dance. There was a second of stunned silence before everyone gathered their thoughts and rose to their feet as one to give a standing ovation that lasted long enough to cause the nurses to blush scarlet.

While everyone gathered around to talk and congratulate Sandra and Bobby, Diana hurried out of the living room. A couple of minutes later, she returned with a large cardboard box. Sitting it down and opening it, she took out several wide belts with bells and coins hanging from them. The belts were very similar to the belly dancing belts the nurses wore. One of the belts was far shorter than the others, however.

Turning to Selina, the Queen crooked a finger. "Belly dance lessons, Ladies, and we got this belt especially for you," the Queen said to Selina.

The genius suddenly turned shy. "My Queen, I cannot..." Selina almost whispered.

"Certainly you can," Bobby said, reaching out to take the child's hand, "and with your memory, you'll probably learn much faster than we did."

"How long have you been doing this?" Art asked. "I've seen belly dancing in the movies, and watched some on the Internet, but you two are beyond anything I've ever seen, and ... far more beautiful than those dancers, too."

"Hah," Sandra laughed, "you're just prejudiced because you love us."

"Guilty as charged," he laughed, "but the fact still stands. The two of you are beyond anything I've ever seen, and you were so perfectly synchronized that it's just amazing."

Bobby turned back from fitting the belt to Selina's slim form. "We do everything together, as you well know," she said with a sexy little giggle. "And we've been dancing since our early teens."

"I've done a little of it," Diana said. "Just enough to make muscles sore that I didn't even know existed, and to begin to understand just how difficult belly dancing really is." Raising her voice, the Queen spoke to everyone. "We have six more of the coin belts, and enough of the ankle bracelets and finger cymbals for those six and Selina."

"If I possessed hips, the resultant movement would significantly improve," Selina grumbled as she tried to sway her body.

"You will one day," Jeff said as he kissed her forehead. "Enjoy being the age you are."

Selina grinned up at him and stuck her tongue out.

Arlene, Diana and Susan had known what the nurses were going to do for the Halloween party, but no one else did. Arlene stood back up from attaching bracelets around Selina's ankles, swung a belt around her own waist and fastened it. "Selina and I are game to try. Anyone else?"

Ann and Jennie came forward and secured their belts, cymbals and ankle bracelets. While they were fastening them, Arlene continued, "Who else wants to belly dance?"

There was no response and the place got very quiet.

Selina was worried. "I am certain to create an ungraceful parody of their beautiful promenades."

"And I won't?" Arlene laughed. "That's part of the fun."

"The zills go on like this," Bobby offered as she showed Selina how to hold the finger cymbals.

The little genius managed to make a tapping noise for a second or two. "Oh, my. This is much more difficult than it would first appear," the six-year-old fretted.

"Who else?" Sandra asked. "Come on ladies, there was a first time for us, too."

It was obvious that Nat, Nicki and Whitney were trying to be inconspicuous. "You three," Bobby said.

"Uh, not us. We've never..." Nat started.

"Go," Jeff said, stepping up behind them, encircling them in his arms and encouraging them forward.

With Arlene's help, Sandra and Bobby soon had the three outfitted with belly dancing belts, zills and ankle bracelets. "Okay, the seven of you line up across here," Bobby said. "We'll begin with a simple version of the hip shimmy."



-------

Chapter 152

Later, after all the women had tried a little belly dancing to the accompaniment of much laughter and cat calls, they put the leftover food away, and soon had the dishwashers doing their thing. "We'll leave the rest of the cleanup until tomorrow," Diana said, looking around to make sure they hadn't missed anything that needed doing now.

"You're going to stay the night like we talked about?" Diana questioned Sheriff Tate's wife, Virginia.

"Yes," Virginia replied with a smile, "we came prepared with overnight bags this time."

"Excellent. Arlene will show you to a big suite."

Virginia chuckled. "We don't need a big suite, just a big bed."

Diana winked at her. "We have plenty of those."

As Arlene went out with the Tates, "You did good, my Love," Jeff said as he came up behind Diana and tucked her into his arms. "Our three most recent wives were beside themselves with joy, and not only were they recipients of the pleasures of our party, they were able to contribute."

"Which was every bit as important," the Queen agreed, "maybe even more so. They've never had anything that they could give." Diana turned around in her mate's arms so that she could face him. Standing on tiptoe, she lightly touched her lips to his for a second. "When they decide on gifts for the orphanage in Denver, we need to make certain they do the buying. Oh, they'll know they're spending your money, but the actual buying will have an effect, I think. And ... we all know it's your money." As Jeff drew breath to argue about it being his money, she went quickly on, "I know. I know. We're all married and what belongs to you belongs to us, but without that brain of yours and all the hard work you put into that invention, we wouldn't have any of this. And it scares me to think that we wouldn't have met any of these people — none of this would have happened. Nat, Nicki and Whitney would be sex slaves somewhere in the world; Helen would have eventually died from a heart attack..."

"Di, stop now. Don't go down that road. We're all together, and we don't need to worry about bad things that might have been. But I certainly agree with you about making sure the three of them make the decisions and do the actual ordering. That might very well help with their problems."

"Time will also help them to feel more like they're part of us," the Queen said. After a moment, "I can't even imagine growing up and never having anything — anything — that I could call my own. They slept in a narrow bed, huddled together for safety. For years. Oh, Jeff, I want to cry every time I think about them in that awful place, and then that bastard, Ingles, had them kidnapped. He raped them after they had already gone through so much."

The Queen pushed back from her mate to better look up into his eyes. "I think you need to spend some special time with just you and them — just you and them. Go away somewhere together, maybe."

Jeff tilted her chin up with a finger, then kissed her for a second, reluctantly pulling back before he could become more involved. "Go somewhere? Just us? Us and ten security troopers, at least? How frigging romantic would that be? And assuming I could manage to sneak out of here without an escort, how long do you think it would be before General Whitworth swamped the place with personnel — all looking for my ass? That's what I hate about all this. We have no real privacy anymore. We have tons of money, but we can't even get in a vehicle and go for a drive like the three of us did when we first moved out here. I miss those times. Remember when we used to ride down to Winter Park just to get an ice cream cone?"

"Of course I do, but I also remember that during that same time period I worried that my husband was going to divorce me. Jeff, I should have killed Jack..."

"And you would be in jail now, and none of the great things that have happened in our life recently would have occurred. We're back to the fact that we can't change our past, good or bad. We have Nat, Nicki and Whitney now, and your party tonight was a tremendous success..."

" ... made much more so by two of the new additions to our extended family," Diana continued. "When they volunteered to dance, I never imagined they would be anywhere near as professional as they are. And their idea about teaching a little of the belly dancing to us was pure genius. If you remember, I tried belly dancing not too long after we got married. I've decided that I'm going to do it again, and I'm going to get good at it. Tomorrow morning, all of us are getting together to order costumes and the works. Wouldn't you like for me to be able to do my belly and hips like Sandra and Bobby can, hmmm? Then think about making love. Get the idea?" she finished.

Jeff let out a chuckle as Diana giggled. "Well, I definitely hadn't thought of that, but it does sound interesting," he said as he slipped a hand discreetly between them to gently squeeze a breast.

Diana pushed her breast against his hand. "You do know that both Sandra and Bobby are essentially virgins?"

"Well, I don't..."

"While they were in high school, they deliberately let a guy fuck them once to get rid of their hymens. From the way they described it, it was the 'two humps and a beardown' type of fuck that you tease about. Point being that with them having belly danced for so long, Art could well have his hands full Monday night." Then managing to get out past choked-off laughter, "He might need that sling of yours for his dick Tuesday morning. Oh, I would love to be a fly on the wall when he puts his cock into them and they all find out what enhancement does to a woman's libido. One of these days soon, you're going to have to teach him how to trip their switch or they will fuck him to death. They've already told me they had a lot of catching up to do after they have waited so long for their man."

"Damn, Di, women must talk more than guys do."

Diana pulled his head down to kiss him hard for a moment. When she moved back a little, "Did I ever claim differently?" she teased. Glancing at her watch, she looked over at a sleeping Selina curled up in one of the big, overstuffed seats, Billy snuggled tightly against her stomach. "Put your daughter to bed. It's time for the adult party..."

"Di, I think..."

" ... in our suite," the Queen finished with a grin.

"Oh..." Jeff said.

"Adult party time," Diana called out, raising her voice so everyone could hear. "Oh, yeah, one more thing. We won't start cooking breakfast until seven in the morning."

Steven and Marcie had already left, and Jesse had agreed to stay the night with Alesha in her suite.

Giggles and laughter filled the living room as the women began to herd their men out the door and toward their suites.

Jeff put Billy on his shoulder. As the Prime stood up with a sleeping Selina in his arms, Frank walked over. "Jeff, Bill and I need to talk to you. Could you come back after you put Selina to bed, please?"

"Sure," the Prime said, puzzled.

Frank walked out and Diana turned back to her husband. "I left your costume in Nat, Nicki and Whitney's old suite...

Jeff, beginning to be frustrated about costumes, replied, "Di, I'm not into costumes for me. I mean, I'm sure I'll enjoy my wives dressing up, but..."

"As soon as you're done with your talk with Frank, you should change into your costume. If you come in without wearing the costume I put on the bed in there, you'll miss out on a very good time. And ... I am not threatening to cut off your pussy. I've always detested women who do that, but you'll have more fun if you wear the costume."

"All right," he sighed. "I'll wear it, whatever it is. At least no one will see it except my wives, Di, but I'm really not into this."

"Go," she said with a titter of laughter. "You might be surprised. We'll be waiting."

Jeff was glad Diana had insisted that Selina put on her pajamas when she had started yawning. Now, all he had to do was tuck her in. In the suite, Jeff leaned over to let Billy jump onto the bed, then put the child down on the foot, pulled the sheet and spread down, moved Selina to the proper place and covered her. Billy burrowed under the sheet to snuggle against his mistress.

He stood back to look at Selina's face as she lay in repose, the sheet tucked to her chin. She's a doll,  he thought. And looking at her now, it's hard to believe that she really is a genius. Asleep, she's just a cute little girl, but when she opens her eyes that intelligence virtually jumps out at you. I suspect her parents were intimidated by that intelligence, even though Selina tried to hide it from them. We made certain they knew about it before they left here, though. I can see how she could have been a handful if she had wanted to be. I wonder just how much her parents realized about her intelligence before we told them. Then again, who knows? Who cares? he laughed to himself. She's here with us now, and she feels like my daughter. I know she almost called me Daddy in the hallway. She insists on calling me Prime, and Diana, Queen. When I tried to discourage it, she clouded up. I can't stand to see her cry. She's got you wrapped around her little finger, Boy. But then again, who cares.

Quietly chuckling, he left Selina's suite to go talk to Frank and Bill.

-------

In the living room a couple of minutes later, Frank Wainwright and Bill Madison were sitting near the fireplace as Jeff walked in. Because of the hay, no fire was lit.

"You guys look serious. Anything wrong?"

"Oh, heck no," Frank hurriedly said as Bill shook his head in agreement. "We just wanted to tell you we would be gone until, probably, Monday afternoon."

Bill sat up straight. "Remember the preacher and his wife who gave Jill money, fixed her car and let her stay with them for the night?"

"Sure."

"Well, Jill called a day or so after she got here and told them she had arrived safely, and that her health was much better. Since then, she's kept in touch with them, and I've been part of the conversation twice when Jill put them on speaker as we all talked."

"Yeah, you've mentioned them, and I've overheard Jill talking to my wives about them."

Bill leaned back in his seat, apparently restless for some reason. "Linda, Kathy and I have tried to come up with some way to reward those people. Just as Alesha and Jesse saved Joyce's life, there's no doubt that the preacher and his wife saved Jill's. In addition to the money, they saw that her car was repaired, fed her and gave her a safe place to recuperate a bit before she continued her trip."

"Yeah. They sound like nice people."

Bill stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles. Sighing, he sat silent for a moment before continuing, "I want to give them money, but Jill doubts they will take it. When they gave her that five hundred dollars, she told them she would repay them, or try to, but they refused, telling her instead to just pass it on to someone else who was in need. That doesn't sound like they'll take my money. And I want to give them a hell of a lot more than that five hundred dollars."

"Sounds like you might have a plan," Jeff said with a smile.

"My plan is half-assed at best, but Frank has a plan that is well underway compared to mine."

Jeff glanced over at Frank, who just grinned back at him, saying nothing.

Bill went on. "Jill heard part of a conversation when the preacher and his wife thought she was asleep. Anyway, Jill thinks these two have been trying to save for a vacation to Hawaii most of their married lives. But ... he's a preacher, and apparently a devout one who seems to put others before himself. Jill thinks they gave her a good portion of their remaining vacation savings. Apparently their savings have suffered hits when they used it to help people in need. Jeff, I can't tell you how much this bothers me. And to reiterate, Jill thinks there's no way they'll accept money from us."

The three sat quiet for a couple of minutes, finally, Bill looked back at Jeff. "This guy sitting next to you," he said, motioning to Frank, "has overpaid me for years."

"Bullshit," Wainwright said.

"Plus, he's paid bonuses that he's helped me invest. I'm certainly not rich, but I'm doing pretty damn good for an old Tomcat jockey."

"Who no longer looks his age, thanks to Little One," Wainwright injected.

"Absolutely," Bill agreed. "Anyway, I'm thinking about bribing this preacher and his wife."

Jeff, knowing there was more to it, grinned at his buddy.

"Unless I can come up with something else, I'm going to offer a sizeable donation to his church, on the condition that he and his wife will accept an all-expenses paid vacation to Hawaii, and that will include a nice chunk of spending money to go with it."

"Or," Frank broke in, "they can spend a couple of weeks on our island with us, instead."

"So what's the problem?" Jeff asked.

"It just feels a little like I'll be holding a gun to his head to make him go on the vacation. I know he won't take the money for the vacation straight out, however, I'll bet he'll do most anything to get a big donation for his church, but somehow I'm going to have to sell my little scheme to him."

"And what is our billionaire going to do?" Jeff joked.

Bill looked over with laughing eyes. "He's going to kick-start the town, and his idea sounds a lot better than my half-baked plans to bribe the preacher."

"So when is all this going to happen? And just where is this place, anyway?"

"Midville, Wyoming. It's the backside of nowhere. Pastor Cambridge tells us it used to be a thriving little town many years ago before the Interstate was built and the big processing plants moved into the general area fifty miles or so away, and put so many of the ranchers out of business. They had a hard time competing with the big outfits that own everything from the feedlots to the grocery store. Cattle in feed lots stand at the troughs, knee-deep in their own muck, from the time they're young calves until they are grown and are trucked to a processing plant. Then the same processing plant won't pay the ranchers a fair price for their beef, and that beef costs the rancher far more to raise per animal than the big outfits have to spend to get their animal ready to slaughter. Feedlots are inhumane in anybody's books, but they're extremely cost efficient. The town and the surrounding area around it basically died and many of its people have moved away to find jobs.

"Oh, there's a number of struggling small businesses still there, a small motel, a mom and pop grocery store, garage, hardware store, and so forth, but there isn't much money left in the area. There's a whole slew of vacant buildings that used to be viable businesses, plus there are many vacant houses. Cambridge struggles to keep his church afloat and works as a night stocker in a grocery store an hour's drive away. The ranchers barely get by and many of them work any odd jobs they can find to make ends meet."

"In other words," Frank interrupted, "the place is perfect for me."

"What the crap are you planning, Frank?" Jeff said, chuckling.

"Not sure yet. I sent a team out two weeks ago, along with a couple of my idea people. I'm going to meet Tingle there tomorrow; he says they have some ideas they want to discuss with me. If things work out the way I hope, Cambridge's little church will get a chance at a totally new life as people move back into the area."

"We leave first thing in the morning," Wainwright continued. "Good thing I started a helicopter service. There aren't any airports within reasonable driving distance that are capable of taking our plane. Getting there from here will entail several hours on a helicopter, but then again, that's a luxury interior I had installed, so we won't be roughing it too much," he laughed. "There is a small airport, but it will take a lot of work to make it useful to us. But ... I might have some luck getting the state to improve it if things work out as I envision. No matter how my plans evolve, expanding that airport is a must. And regarding the state, what politician could resist getting involved if he or she thinks there's a possibility of getting a hand into the till?" he finished with a chuckle.

"We'll have breakfast ready for you early..."

"Nonsense," Frank interrupted. "Diana said seven to start cooking. We'll be on our way by then, and don't you dare get her up early. I can't remember when she's slept that late, and she certainly deserves it. We'll eat in Denver or Boulder, whichever is more convenient for the trip. We just wanted you to know what was going on."

"You will be back for Art's wedding Monday night, right?"

"Absolutely," both Frank and Bill said almost in unison.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Frank added.

Jeff stood. "Take care, and if I can help..."

"Always," Frank said.

-------

A moment later, Jeff stood in the girls' old suite looking at the costume laid out on the bed. Well, that isn't too bad I guess. He picked up the wrapper the suit had obviously come in. Hmmm, the package says it's a warlock costume, whatever that is. Some type of body suit with a cape. Well that's not too bad. He held the suit up to look at it. Some sort of stretch material, I think. I suppose it will fit me...  Then he noticed the bottom of the front. Oh, shit. My dick and balls will hang out. The thing is made with a cutout in the front. I can just imagine what I'll look like with a hard on. Not that I'll ever get a hard on wearing this. Hell, I'll be too embarrassed, even with just my wives seeing me.

Sighing, resigned to his fate, he removed his clothes and tossed them on the bed. If they want me to wear this, my wives will probably be in something similar. Hmmm, I might even like this if they are. Trying to be positive, he grabbed up the suit, wondering how he was supposed to get into it. This thing is almost as bad as getting into one of those camouflage suits. He held the outfit up in front of him. I hope it stretches a lot.

A couple of minutes later, he had struggled into the outfit and had donned the pointed-toe black shoes to go with it. He snapped the red cape to his shoulders and pushed the high, pointed hat onto his head, then with a mental cringe, looked in the mirror. Oh, shit. I look like a fucking idiot.

Before he could chicken out, he eased the suite door open enough to stick his head out, and peeked down the hall. Cautiously, he stepped into the corridor, then sprinted the short distance to their suite, feeling like a fool as his cock flopped against his leg when he ran.

Inside the sitting room of the suite, he stopped to gather his courage. Fuck, this material is so thin and stretchy it looks painted on. How does a warlock act? Do I cast a spell on my wives? Thinking about his women did it; his cock rose to full mast. Oh, fuck. I feel more naked in this outfit than I would parading up and down the halls without a stitch on. Sucking in a breath of courage, he walked boldly through the door into the bedroom.

As soon as he stepped around the corner, there was a collective gasp from his women, and a giggle from Arlene. I guess the theme is witch, he thought as he took in the sight of his wives. Everyone has on some version of a witch's costume — well a sexy witch's costume, anyway.

Most of the costumes exposed the wearer's breasts in some way — some costumes with cutouts, others with plunging necklines that left little to the imagination. Several of his women wore pants with gaping openings to expose their pussies. Others wore skirts ranging from mini to micro mini, with nothing underneath. The women had moved the witch's cauldron into the bedroom, and someone had recently added more dry ice chips to the brew, judging by how much "smoke" the liquid was putting out. There were several of the Jack O'Lanterns sitting about in the dimly-lit room to add to the mood lighting the women had arranged.

Arlene slid to her knees in front of her "warlock." Taking his throbbing cock in her hands, she licked the head, then set about giving him a blowjob to get him ready. Apparently Nat, Nicki and Whitney were to be the first to be fucked because they lined up on their knees on the side of the big bed, their pussies bare and waiting for him. A couple of minutes later, Arlene guided his cock into Nat's pussy.

-------

In the other end of the Retreat, Quinton Tate sat nude on the big bed in their suite as his sister-in-law, Elizabeth, knelt in front of him energetically sucking his cock while Virginia, his wife, passionately kissed him. Rachel and Cindy, Elizabeth's daughters, rubbed their breasts on his back and kissed his neck.

"Baby, I'm getting close," he warned Elizabeth.

"Mmmmm hmmmm," she said as she looked up at him and sucked harder, obviously wanting him to come in her mouth.

"Oh, shit," he groaned out as the orgasm washed over him and his cock began spewing sperm-laden semen.

Elizabeth let out a choking sound for a moment as she began swallowing.

"When are you going to fuck us, Uncle Q?" Rachel asked as she pushed a breast against his back and breathed into his ear.

Tate's cock shot one last little spurt, and he sagged back onto the bed. "That was marvelous, Liz. Thank you," he sighed out.

"Any time, Big Man. You know that," Elizabeth said after she had run her tongue over her lips to catch a stray drop of his spend.

"I'm one heck of a lucky guy."

"Yes you are, Uncle Q," Rachel agreed. "Now when are you going to take our cherries?"

"Yeah," Cindy agreed as she moved to lean over him and push a swollen nipple against his mouth.

There wasn't much said for a few minutes until Cindy squealed and shivered as an orgasm grabbed her. She snuggled against him, trying to rub her pussy against his hip, but wasn't having much success because he was still lying with his feet off the side of the bed. Chuckling, he said, "Why don't I get on the bed properly?"

When they had rearranged themselves, he was delayed answering because Rachel wanted her nipples sucked as well. When she had shivered out an orgasm, she took up where she had left off. "When are you going to do us?"

"Look, Baby..."

"Oh, don't start, Quint," his wife said as she reached over and took his cock in her hands. "We all know what you're going to say, and our answer to that is bullshit. Jeff has fourteen wives, and they all love him to death. That crap about being the Sheriff isn't going to fly with us any longer. These girls love you just like Elizabeth and I do. We all go everywhere together, anyway. So who's going to know that you're making love to your nieces? The answer is: nobody. And ... if they did somehow find out about it, do you really think it would keep you from being reelected? Who's going to run against you? You just went back in without anyone running against you this time, and nobody will next time either. After the thing with the DA's office, you've got this county sewed up for a couple more terms, at least."

"Baby the incest..."

"Oh, fuck the incest. Nobody in this room cares about it, except you. And you know that's bullshit, too. These girls love you just like Liz and I do. You're sucking their tits and licking their pussies. What's the difference? It's time for you to get the job done."

"I can't uphold the law on the citizens of this county..."

"Oh, hush, Quinton," Elizabeth broke in. "My girls are past the age of consent — well past it in fact. And when have you prosecuted anyone for making love to a family member? You have on rapes, of course, but the prosecution was because of the rape, not incest. You know damn well there isn't a jury in this county that will convict on that. There's too much of it going on. And it's not as if you're going to parade them through downtown Winter Park with you announcing on a loudspeaker that you're making love to them.

"They're just like Virginia and me, they need to feel that fabulous cock inside them, feel you pumping your sperm into them. It's not as if you have to ask for their mother's blessing," she teased. "You know damn well I've given it to you."

"Liz, I ... uh, suppose they get pregnant? I mean..."

"Diana says she'll tell us everything shortly, now that we're blocked, but she did tell us that none of us could get pregnant until 'Little One, ' whoever or whatever that is, does something to turn our reproductive systems back on, as she calls it. And if they do, anyway? Who cares? There are plenty of pregnant teenagers in the county as we speak. And do you see anyone running around making sure the father isn't a blood relative. But then again, you aren't a 'blood relative' to either girl."

Rachel knelt across Quinton's face, lowering her pussy to his mouth. Tate, thinking that he and the girls would have their normal oral only sex, licked Rachel's nether lips.

Cindy came to her knees, slid across Quinton to straddle him, her pussy near his cock. Rachel looked over her shoulder to grin at her sister. Their mother grasped Tate's big cock and held it upright as Cindy raised herself higher.

"I love you," Cindy said as she eased her pussy downward, the big head pushing open the lips to her most intimate place. Feeling the head against her hymen, she hesitated as Quinton Tate realized what was happening and struggled to get Rachel off his face. But Rachel, having lost the toss to be first, was hanging on for dear life so her sister could give her virginity to Quinton.

"No, Cindy. You can't..."

"I love you, Uncle Q," she said as she dropped...



-------

Chapter 153

..."No, Cindy. You can't..."

"I love you, Uncle Q," Cindy said as she dropped, screamed out, and just as quickly slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream. She sat rigidly upright as pain seemed to consume her. Rachel rolled to the side and off her uncle's face. Tears flowed down Cindy's cheeks as she took a shaking breath. "I didn't expect it to hurt this much," she whispered, mostly to herself.

"Oh, Baby. What have you done?" the big man sighed out.

"What you should have done weeks ago," Virginia, Tate's wife, said.

"Yes," Elizabeth, Cindy's mother, agreed. "My daughters love you just as much as Virginia and I do. You should have taken their virginities long before now."

"Are you okay, Baby?" Tate very quietly asked his niece, compassion in his voice as he tried to ignore the warm, wet and very tight channel his cock was wedged into.

"I ... It's..." She took a deep breath. "The pain is getting better," she whispered, then with a little stronger voice, "On my last checkup, the doctor told me that my hymen was fairly thick. I expected my first time to hurt, but I didn't expect that much pain. Still, I'm glad I didn't let her clip it with a scalpel like she offered. I..." She moved a hand down to feel under herself. "You still have an inch or two to go." She glanced at her mother. "Rachel and I watched it go up you two. (Meaning Virginia and Elizabeth) I don't see how you can take it like that. And..." she said, moving just a little, "it's still not all the way in, but it's hitting something up inside me; my womb I guess. I feel so full."

Tate didn't know what to do. He did know he would hurt her feelings if he threw her off him. "Baby, you shouldn't have done that; you're my niece," he said, worried.

"Oh, hush, Quinton, and make love to the girl," a frustrated Virginia snapped out. "Both of them are madly in love with you, and you know damn well you love them, too. You have their mother's permission as well as mine. Any other man would have buried his cock in them long ago."

"But I'm..."

" ... the Sheriff," his wife finished for him, continuing. "Yeah, we kinda know that already..." she chuckled. "And anyway, the deed is done. You've got your cock up her and we haven't noticed you throwing her off, now have we, huh? Doesn't matter if you've had your dick in her a minute or an hour, you've already fucked her as far as the law is concerned, right? In for a penny in for a pound seems to fit the occasion. Now are you going to finish this, or leave my niece with the memory of nothing but pain for her first time?"

Tate opened his mouth to say something, but his wife locked hers to his before he could get any more words out. Cindy, the pain receding enough that her mind began to focus on what was going on around her, decided that she liked this feeling of stretched fullness so deep inside her. Almost unconsciously, she moved her hips a little, causing her uncle's cock to move inside her. She instantly stopped when the pain came back, not as strong as before, but it was enough to get her attention, anyway.

She looked over as her aunt rose back up from the kiss, then grinned a little when she winked at her niece.

"Way to go, Sis," her sister said as she flopped to her back and slid her hand down to touch her own pussy.

Tate's hands came up to gently touch Cindy on either side of her face. "I'm sorry it hurt, Baby," he said with compassion. She grasped his wrists and guided his caressing hands to her breasts. His big hands gentled them, squeezing the globes as his thumbs slid lightly across her engorged nipples.

"I love you, Uncle Q," she whispered again, staring at him as she moved her hips a little more.

"I love you, too, but I didn't want this to happen."

Cindy just smiled at him. Her movement had caused some discomfort, but just a little stinging where her hymen had been ripped asunder. The motion caused the head of his big cock to rub across what she had decided must be her cervix. The feeling was odd. Even though his cock pushed against the opening to her womb, she could control how hard the push was, and there was something about him being so deep inside her and touching her there — touching her womb that could make a baby with the help of sperm from this cock inside her. That thought caused a rush of lust, and her movement caused the lust to escalate.

She raised herself slightly and eased back down. The torn hymen objected and the sting increased for a second, but her lust and the marvelous feeling that went with the movement overwhelmed the now diminishing pain. "Oh, my," she whispered almost to herself, but they all heard. "It's so far up inside me."

"Stop holding back," Virginia said as she nuzzled her husband's ear. "You always hold back the pheromones when the girls are with us, but you use them when you make love to Liz and me when the girls are not with us. Time to make them yours forever."

"We've always been yours, anyway," Rachel said, "pheromones or not. Do it, Uncle Q."

Quinton knew it was over — had known it for weeks. He knew he had passed the point of no return when he started licking their pussies. He had felt the girls' love for him, and long knew he loved them, too. Not just as family, but as women. His upbringing and his job had caused him to hold back. Lately, that holding back had become almost desperation, like a drowning man clinging to a floating limb. The deed was done, so there was no point in deluding himself any longer. He released his pheromones, little by little, just as Jeff had taught him.

His wife, again with her mouth close to his ear as she whispered endearments to him, moved that lovely mouth to his. He felt Elizabeth run a hand over his chest, tweaking his nipples. Rachel, watching, giggled and moved her hand faster on her clit. Cindy raised herself a few inches and eased back down, then rotated her hips as his cock pressed deeply into her. He slipped his hands under her hips and slowly stroked a few times. She went rigid and he was afraid he had brought the pain back, but she shook all over, thrashed her hips and squealed out a prolonged climax, her pussy spasming around his cock.

It was a good thing that his wife had broken the kiss and moved, because when her orgasm was finally over, Cindy fell forward, her body limp. If Tate had not grabbed her, she would have smacked her face hard against his muscular chest. She was mumbling, a shiver passing through her body every now and then. The problem was the orgasm-induced pussy spasms that pulsed around his cock. He needed to move inside her; move a lot more than he could with her lying on his chest. Without thought, he tightened his hands around her delightful ass and rolled them over, his cock remaining inside her.

Now that he was on top, he could stroke her properly. He pulled back almost all the way and slid his throbbing cock in until it stopped against her womb. Her eyes opened wide and her whole body shivered as she squealed out, "Yes!"

The tight and very warm pussy pulsed around his cock. His wife and sister-in-law lovingly touched his arms and back, encouraging him. "Make love to her, Baby," Virginia whispered into his ear. "Make her yours."

He had to get his rocks off. He was as sexually excited as he had ever been in his life. He held himself against her cervix, barely touching, and moved his ass around for a moment, rubbing the head of his cock against her womb, then set up a steady rhythm of thrusts into her impossibly-tight pussy. Even as excited as he was, he forced himself to not ram into her.

Cindy seemed to come alive. She wrapped her arms around his back, feeling his muscles ripple as he thrust into her, then clamped her legs over his thighs. As he shoved into her, she thrust back, causing him to hit her womb harder than he intended. Instead of the flinch of pain he expected, she whined and tried to push harder against him. He knew that if he pounded her womb, she would be extremely sore in the morning, even if lust diminished the pain at the moment. He fit Virginia and Elizabeth perfectly, his length just touching their cervixes at maximum penetration. Just enough to tantalize, but not enough to hurt severely unless he pushed really hard. Cindy's sweet pussy was shallower.

He kissed her, gentle at first, then within a few seconds, the kiss overpowered both of them with lust.

She was beside herself, the pain gone, or at least smothered by the wonderful feeling of his cock inside her. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she would be sore when this was over. That was for later; his cock was now. My Uncle Q is in me — fucking me. I want him to come in me, make me one of his women. I want him to impregnate me. He pulled his face back from hers a few inches, their eyes locked. She spoke the last thought aloud. "Take me, Uncle Q. Put your baby in me. Come in me."

Jeff had told Quinton that none of his women could get pregnant until Little One turned their "baby factories" back on. He hoped Jeff was right, but right or not, Quinton wasn't going to stop. He was as near to losing control as he had ever been in his life.

All that had happened to them lately; the things that Virginia had done, her withholding herself from him for so long, his having caught Virginia and Elizabeth making love to each other, his ultimatum to Virginia about meeting him at the door nude and on her knees in retaliation for the way she had been treating him, the girls' teasing and their obvious and blatant desire for him, then this...

All of that and more, now Cindy's tight pussy pulsed around him, her virginity gone, his desire for the beautiful young woman was more than he could withstand. He let his control go, concentrating on Cindy's pretty face and her bouncing breasts, felt her go into near constant orgasm, her pussy milking his cock. It seemed like every nerve in his body tingled, his last few strokes were short, the muscles of his hips straining — then it happened. He felt his semen coming from deep inside him, felt his balls pull up tight against his body, felt the stream of warmth pulse through his cock as he slammed into her and held. Cindy's eyes popped opened wide as warmth sprayed into her. Her legs clasped harder around his, then kicked and thrashed before locking around his hips, her body straining to his. He could vaguely hear her scream past the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. His cock pulsed again — again and yet again. The last gush changed to a hard stream that diminished into dribbles of the heavily sperm-laden semen — enough sperm to impregnate many women, all of those sperm swimming madly for the egg that wasn't there.

Cindy's mind, the part that was still functioning, was focused on the warmth inside her and what it meant. She knew she wasn't supposed to get pregnant, but she could feel the warmth so deep inside her, knew that she was full of man seed, as she thought of it, knew that some was even now inside her womb and more was entering there by the moment. The orgasm reached new heights — heights that were beyond her brain's ability to process. The world grayed out, then went black.

Tate, his arms shaking, his strength gone, managed to hold himself up long enough to roll over onto his back.

"Oh, my goodness," Elizabeth said when she saw her daughter's gaping pussy as Tate's blood-and-semen-covered cock pulled out. A flood of the blood-streaked semen poured out of Cindy as Elizabeth sucked in a breath.

Rachel, having orgasmed several times as she rubbed her clit while watching her uncle make love to her sister, had finally stopped playing with herself. "Get..." her mother started to say, but Rachel was already off the bed and hurrying to the bathroom. Back a couple minutes later, she handed her mother a dampened washcloth and stood holding a towel, half scared for her sister, and filled with awe with what had just happened.

"She..." Rachel started.

" ... just fainted," Virginia finished for her. "He's fucked us unconscious many times. No reason to get upset. The doctor told her she would have a hard time with her thick hymen, but ... that looks like a good bit of blood."

Rachel, now back with a second dampened washcloth, bathed Cindy's face. Rachel's eyes drifted to her uncle's cock as it lay across his leg. Cindy caught her sister's hand. "I'm awake now," she quietly said. As the sisters met eyes, Cindy grinned. "I did it," she said, trying to hold back a giggle that threatened to take over.

Rachel laughed back at her, "Yeah, you really did."

Cindy reached over to touch Quinton, who had turned to his side to smile at her. "I'm gonna be really sore, but I'm full of your sperm, so I don't care."

Tate raised up to better see his niece's swollen pussy lips. As Elizabeth went to rinse the bloody washcloth, a frown creased his face. Quickly moving to the side of the bed, he grabbed the phone and dialed Jeff's suite.

After Nat answered the phone, "Sorry to bother you, but I need to speak to Jeff."

"It's Sheriff Tate," Nat said as Jeff pulled his cock out of Diana to take the phone, hitting the speaker button so everyone could hear.

"What's wrong?" the Prime asked without hesitation.

"Sorry to bother you, but ... Well, you made a big deal about my calling you if anything ever happened to us, and after what you did for Elizabeth..."

"What's wrong?" Jeff repeated.

"Well, I, uh, took Cindy's virginity and she seemed to have bled more than I would expect."

"Be there in a minute," Jeff got out before Tate could even finish. Hitting the Off button, he tossed the phone on the bed and ran the zipper of the warlock suit down with a hiss, then peeled the outfit off. Jennie tossed him a pair of jeans from the closet. Diana, having already taken off her witch's suit, grabbed a robe. With Little One in hand, the Prime and his Queen jogged barefoot down the hall.

Quinton had dragged on a pair of jeans while Rachel, Virginia and Elizabeth had quickly put on robes. Cindy had pulled the sheet up to her chin, her face a bright red. Before they could say much to each other, there was a loud rap on their bedroom door. Quinton hurried to snatch it open, looking embarrassed, but blurted out, "Cindy gave me her virginity, but bled enough to worry me. I hated to bother you, but she's in more pain than she should be. I..."

Diana had walked past the men to sit on the side of the bed and take Cindy's hand. "I'm fine," she told Diana. "The doctor said my hymen was thick and offered to take care of it with a scalpel, I guess I should have let her, but I wanted ... Oh, this is embarrassing."

"Don't let it be," Diana soothed, reaching a hand out to Jeff for Little One.

He handed her the Healer, then turned and put a hand on Tate's shoulder. "Let's go sit in the other room and give the ladies time to fix this." Then to his wife, Di?"

The Queen smiled at her husband and absently stroked Little One. "I'll handle it."

In the sitting room a couple of moments later, Jeff plopped down in a recliner. Tate started to pace.

"Sit. This is nothing for Little One to fix. We have a lot to talk about."

Tate turned to look at Jeff, sighed and sat.

"We've both been too busy to get together lately, particularly with you working extra shifts and everything. We have a lot of catching up to do, but you did the right thing by calling us. No reason for Cindy to hurt."

"They tell me that on her last checkup, her doctor told her she had an unusually thick hymen, and suggested snipping it with a scalpel, but Cindy wouldn't let her. I didn't realize she had bled that much until I saw what came out of her. I felt it when I tore through her hymen, of course, but she just sat on me and dropped. I don't know if I could have made it any easier for her or not. I think they planned this." Tate realized he was prattling on and stopped to take a breath. "Shit, I feel like a fucking..."

Jeff, of course, had heard what Cindy had whispered to Diana. "She'll be good as new in a few minutes. No use to beat yourself up about it. It's about time you made those two yours, anyway."

"Jeff, I'm a fucking Sheriff..."

"And your personal life is nobody's business. I went through this not long ago myself, and ... mine was a lot closer than a niece by marriage; it was my daughter, as you well know. Incest isn't legal, per se, but then again, would you try to prosecute if you came to find out about something like this if it was another family group involved?"

Tate sighed, "Not with the females past the age of consent, and no complaint from them, but..."

"Is Cindy or Rachel going to complain? Is their mother?"

"No, of course not, but..."

"Case closed," Jeff said as he crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. "Make love to your women and we'll talk in the morning."

Diana walked back out of the bedroom as Jeff and Quinton came to their feet. "She's fine now, Quinton. You didn't do anything wrong; she just bled a little more than usual."

"Thanks you two. I just couldn't let her keep hurting..."

Diana stepped over to hug Tate. "Little One fixed everything. Cindy said to tell you she was ready to go again," Diana finished with a grin. Color crept up Tate's face as she continued, "Now go see to your women; they're waiting for you."

As they closed the suite door on an embarrassed Sheriff still trying to thank them, Diana put Little One on Jeff's bare shoulder and smiled at her husband. She watched the Healer flow down her husband's back and spread out, her translucent body mimicking Jeff's skin coloring so well she virtually disappeared. As they walked into the hallway, "I seem to remember being involved in something," Diana said with a chuckle. Two running steps, then, "I'll race you," she laughed as she sprinted away.

He knew better than to beat her, so stayed just on her heels. While they were turning the last corner, he reached over and grabbed a handful of sexy butt. She shrieked and kicked it up another notch. Damn, she runs a whole lot faster than I thought she could,  he said to himself as he reached for her butt again and missed.

A moment later, laughing hysterically, they crashed through the door into their bedroom where he tackled her. Both landed on the bed almost on top of Caitlin and Joyce, who, tired of waiting their turn, had decided that kissing each other would help the time to pass. Caitlin and Joyce joined efforts to rid Jeff of his pants. Diana wiggled out of her robe seconds before Jeff mounted her.

"You didn't put your warlock costume back..." But as his cock slid home, she lost track of what she was trying to say.

-------

Hours later, Diana snuggled to her husband as they prepared to go to sleep. "We didn't hear from the Tate family again, so I assume Rachel didn't have the problems that Cindy did. She told me she had bled several years ago when she took a fall from a horse. The doctor said she only had part of her hymen left and it should not present any problems with her first time."

"I can certainly sympathize with Cindy," Ann said.

"Miss Armor plated hymen," Melissa giggled.

"But I had the right person to relieve me of it," Ann laughed as she crawled on top of Jeff for a goodnight kiss.

-------

In the Tate suite, Cindy was snuggled on the Sheriff's left shoulder with Rachel on his right. Both girls, deeply asleep, had a leg thrown on top of his legs and an arm across him. Virginia and Elizabeth snuggled on the outside of the girls. Virginia raised her head a little to look at her husband. "You did good," she whispered.

"I love you," he whispered back.

"I love you, too," she said past a big smile as she keyed the remote to kill the room lights.

-------

A few hours prior in Art's suite:

The three had entered the suite, arms around each other with the women still in their belly dancing costumes. "Those costumes don't show a thing, but they're still sexy as can be," Art said when they stopped in the sitting room. As he started to tell them yet again how amazed he was with their dancing, Sandra grabbed his neck, rose to tiptoes and kissed him hard. When she let him go, Bobby did the same.

"It's going to take more than that. I should turn both of you over my knee and spank you."

"For what?" Bobby said, trying to act contrite, but failing miserably because of the giggle that wanted to get out.

"Both of you know for what," he said, playing at being mad at them.

"Oh, you mean the spray-on cat suits?" Sandra asked as if she were guessing.

"Yeah, I was about to panic there for awhile."

Sandra hugged him, then looked up into his face. "You bought it hook line and sinker?"

"Hook, line and sinker..."

"Oh, come on. Surely you've gone fishing?"

"Well yeah, but..."

"We're southern girls," both said together, "and there are lots of lakes around Atlanta."

The women looked at each other, obviously passing a message between them.

"You did it again. I know you did. What did you..."

Both women laughed, but Sandra answered, "We were just wondering what people fished for around here. Mountain streams. Trout, maybe?"

"I'm not much of a fisherman. We'll have to ask Jeff. But you two are avoiding the subject. You scared me to death with the painted-on costume thing. I'm glad you didn't wind up buying that stuff."

The nurses looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Art stared at them. "You did buy it after all."

"Yep," both said.

"But," Sandra continued, "we decided to wait until another time to use it. We have something almost as good, though. And only you get to see it. We don't know these people well enough to use either the paint or the other costumes in front of them."

"I'm going to turn you over my knee," he said, reaching for them, but they ducked away and ran for the bedroom.

Bobby stuck her head back out the door a moment later and tossed him a box. "Put that on; give us ten minutes and come on in. We think you'll be pleased."

He caught the box, then stood looking at the closed door, wondering. The box was about the size of a shirt box. On the front was emblazoned, "TOMCAT SUIT" in bright red with a picture taken from the back of a guy wearing some type of body suit with cat ears and a long black tail that arched up.

He popped the clear tape that held the box closed, and pulled the costume out. The tail, stiff and springy, was almost weightless, but even so, it weighed more than the rest of the suit did. There was a cat mask that went over his head, leaving slits for his nose, eyes and mouth. Cat ears fitted over his own ears. The tail was attached to the suit and had an internal belt to support the tail and give it more realism as it arched up from his body. The body suit was made of some type of ultra-thin material that stretched, and as he found out shortly, clung to him like a second skin. The thing even had gloves and cat feet that took him forever to stretch over his extremities. The total effect was startlingly real. And ... the front totally exposed his groin.

He and his women had slept together nude. He had showered with them, had licked their pussies to orgasm after orgasm, and they had been learning to give fantastic blowjobs, but this thing embarrassed him. When he moved, the tail bounced and waved as if it were real. He assumed the women would have a female version of the outfit.

Only two more nights after tonight until I can take my women all the way. They claim that they have only had one man — well boy — and even then for only a couple of minutes. They say they didn't feel much of anything but a little pain, and certainly didn't orgasm during the few strokes it took for him to get his cookies. I don't know whether I can do this without going all the way,  he fretted. And unless they're putting on an act, they're having problems waiting as well. Oh, well, what real difference does it make? We're already having sex; just not penetration sex. Stop thinking about that,  he admonished himself. Don't screw up your wedding night. Lick their pussies, suck their titties and kiss them, but keep this thing in your pants. He chuckled aloud as he felt the cool air on his dick and balls. Well, out of their pussies, anyway.

The door to the bedroom opened partway as he stood looking into a mirror, managing just barely to keep his dick from going to full hard. He turned and walked quickly toward the bedroom, hoping he could get through the door before he was fully erect.

He stepped through and stopped. Sandra and Bobby were on all fours at the foot of the bed, their rears toward him. Their own cat tails arched above their asses, their suits much like his, their breasts and pussies exposed through cutouts.

"Mmmeeerrroooorrrrrr," they said together in an excellent imitation of a female cat in heat.

As he approached, they looked back over their shoulders letting out their purring meow again. He could feel a stirring in his groin in answer to the call that was so sexual he had no words to describe it. It was the hardest thing he had ever done to not bury his cock in them. He came to his knees behind Bobby, his achingly-hard cock only inches from her very wet and flushed vulva. Hip to hip, Sandra matched her sister's pose, her pussy just as wet and flushed with desire. He leaned forward, his cock almost touching Bobby, her labia parted and waiting, but at the last instant, leaned down to lick slowly between her dripping nether lips. The young nurse shivered and sighed out another purr. Her scent inflamed him as he began to lick cat pussy in earnest.

-------

At first light, Frank, Margaret, Tina, Bill, Jill and Kathy waited well back from the helipad as Reed eased the copter down to hover for a moment while the rotors blew the last of the snow away, then set the machine down with a feather touch. Shortly, Frank and Bill stood by the door assisting the women to enter. "You going to get some rotary time during the trip?" Frank asked, knowing the answer.

"Cat got a climbing gear?" Madison responded with a grin.

"Good, I can take a nap after we stop for breakfast."

"Clarence and Charlene are both damn good pilots," Madison said.

Wainwright started to step up into the copter, but turned back to Bill. "Yeah, they're good, but you're better, and even better than that, you're lucky. Skill and lucky will allow me to go to sleep while you're driving this thing. Besides, if this damn thing quits, I know you'll drag our asses out like you did mine before. Now I'm hungry, so let's get in the air."

"Yes, Sir, Boss," Madison teased as his face split with a grin. "We'll eat at the airport in Boulder, then be on our way to Wyoming."



-------

Chapter 154

EARLY SATURDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 1st

OUTSKIRTS OF DENVER

Blain Benton, Connie's ex-boyfriend, had been having a hard time. First, Connie had left to go live with Denise, leaving him with all the bills to pay. (Not that he ever paid anything.) Yesterday the manager of the apartment had given him notice to vacate. He had managed to acquire a little money only a few hours ago when he burglarized a small grocery store. He had been just a couple blocks away when he had seen the flashing lights of the cop car arriving at the store. The damn cash register had been attached to the counter somehow, but the little crowbar that had helped him break in the back door had made short work of the register drawer. Not that the final result was that good.

He now had a little more than two hundred dollars in his pocket, but his gas gauge barely wiggled when he turned the switch on. He had been afraid to stop to gas up at the all night place just down the street after he realized how close he had come to getting caught. That had scared the crap out of him. The cops had no way to tie him to the burglary, though. He had been smart enough to wear gloves and a ski mask. At least there was a gas station close by and he wouldn't have to walk to get fuel. What he hadn't noticed was the camera on the back of the store where he had parked his car. He would have some unwanted visitors later in the day.

Blain sat at his kitchen table staring out as the sky began to lighten with the new day. That fucking Connie brought all this on me. I was good to that bitch,  he thought as he killed the second bottle of wine he had stolen during the break in. Wait a minute. I think I know where that other cunt lives. Yeah, I remember now. I don't have to put up with this crap. What Connie needs is a good ass whipping. She probably moved in with that bitch so she could hump those fuckers they both work with. I saw the way she looked at them. "Fuck that bitch. She ain't gonna do this to me," he snarled aloud as he came to his feet.

THE RETREAT

A little earlier.

Jeff, knowing that Kayla would be annoyed with him if he didn't wake her, stood beside the bed and leaned over to kiss her awake.

When her eyes focused on her husband in the dim night-light, "I thought we were going to sleep in this morning. It was after two when we finished and went to sleep," she whispered, trying hard to not seem too grumpy. "What time is it now?"

"Five after four. You don't have to go with me, Baby, but you said to wake you when I got up."

Kayla sat up on the side of the bed, holding her head, mentally trying to convince herself her body had enough sleep to function.

Jeff knowing that trying to talk her out of the run with him would be useless, said, "Look, Baby, we'll just skip our run this morning..."

"Bullshit," she whispered as she came to her feet, her duty to protect her mate overriding her lack of sleep, "If I'm too tired when we get back, I'll take a nap after breakfast."

Jeff took her face in his hands and kissed her. "Morning breath," she managed to whisper when he released her. "At least mine is; you've already used mouthwash. No fair."

Jeff picked her up, carried her to the bathroom and sat her on a commode. A couple of minutes later at one of the sinks, she splashed several handfuls of shockingly cold water on her face, dried herself, rinsed her mouth with mouthwash and hurried into the closet to dress. While he dressed, he watched as she pulled on panties before hooking a running bra, then twisted it around until the cups were in the front. He almost sighed when she worked the cups over her sexy breasts, hiding them from his view. After putting on a tee shirt, she reached for her Gore-Tex pants. He moved closer, cupped a hand over her pussy and dragged a finger slowly upward.

She shivered and grabbed his hand, laughing. "Okay. Okay. I'm awake now and if you do much of that, we'll be back in that big bed. Once you start with me, you'll have thirteen more wives to service before you start your day."

"And that's a threat?" he teased.

Laughing, she pulled her pants up, put on the Gore-Tex top and Velcroed it to the pants. Sitting on a stool, she pulled on her socks and shoes. (They had learned that the exposed screw heads in their shoes didn't catch in the carpet if they walked carefully) Strapping on her pistol, she pulled on gloves, and a cold mask. She reached to put an arm around her husband as they walked out of the suite to begin their day.

Later, as they returned from their run and were walking up the driveway, they heard the helicopter leaving. "What are their plans in regard to that preacher?" Kayla asked.

"All I know is that Bill said he was going to donate to the preacher's church and maybe get the preacher and his wife to vacation in Hawaii. Frank is planning to kick start the little town, whatever that means."

Kayla reached over and took her mate's hand as they trudged up the steep incline. "What about those people who are supposed to meet you this morning?"

Jeff looked over at his wife, her mask now off after the run. "They're part of a construction crew that installed Carla's silos. We got to know them while we were helping with Carla's harvest before you came to live with us. They're good people."

"I noticed that the women seemed to defer to the guy last night while they were talking to you at the haunted house. Unless I'm badly mistaken, they're deeply in love with him."

"I sense a 'but' in there somewhere."

"Not a 'but', maybe just an 'and, '" she laughed.

"And..." Jeff said, waiting.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that the women seemed to be a little older than the guy."

"Susan and Helen are older than I am. I haven't noticed it making any difference."

Kayla was silent for a moment. "I guess I stuck my foot in my mouth. It's hard to think of them being older. They certainly don't look it, and I guess I've become accustomed to hearing Diana call Susan, 'Mom, ' without me thinking of the age difference. With Little One, it certainly doesn't show. And Helen is ... Helen. Both of them tease and cut up with us all the time." Then sighing, "I guess it just seemed a little unusual to see two older women look at a younger guy like that. And his eyes turned all soft when he looked at them. Of course, they're not much older than he is, maybe five or six years, I guess. Do you think they're all sleeping together?"

"Not any of our business if they are or not."

"Yeah, I know. I guess I just look for it because we all are. Maybe I want more people to be that way..."

"So you can feel it's normal?" he supplied.

"Maybe. Sometimes I feel like people are looking at us, and ... condemning."

"Are you sorry you got into it?" he quietly asked.

Kayla slammed to a halt and at the same time jerked his hand to get him to turn and face her. "No. Absolutely not. I love my life, and I love you and my sister-wives. What we have is beyond my wildest dreams. Like I told you, I watched you and your team's helmet vids at the base ... and dreamed about being your wife." There was a pause, then she continued, "I saw two women watching us when we went to Denver shopping. It was obvious what they were thinking by the looks on their faces. I wanted to slap the bitches and tell them they had obviously never had a good man in their lives. When I saw those three last night, I could see the love on their faces, and the fact that the women were a little older just made me feel better for them, somehow. They seemed to — I don't know — click together, I guess you could say. I wanted to hug them and tell them that I knew how they felt, and to go for it."

They turned to continue toward the Retreat. "So, you want to be in on our meeting this morning?"

"Oh, I don't know. Not necessarily. What do you think they want?"

"Well, it's obvious they want their jobs to continue. Beyond that, I suppose they're scouting out possible job opportunities."

"What can we do?"

"I'll have Dave and Evie sit in on the meeting. I wish Frank could be here. He knows a hell of a lot more about business than I do, but I know that Dave is familiar with the erection company Jeremy and the others work for. Maybe Dave and Evie will have some ideas."

Kayla squeezed his hand. "Baby, I know it's none of my business, but I want us to help them if we can."

Jeff looked over at her, smiling, "You know better than to say that. My business is your business. So I'll just pretend I didn't hear that." After a moment, "I know that Dave and Evie were impressed with them while we were working on the farm. But ... this is a bad time of the year for a construction company to be hiring extra people. Construction doesn't do well in the winter around here, but we'll see what happens. Let's hear the details before we start to worry."

DENISE'S HOME

Even though it was barely past dawn and a Saturday, Jeremy stepped into the hallway after completing his morning ritual in the bathroom. Smelling coffee, he assumed that the women were already up.

As he walked into the kitchen, Connie was setting the table. "I guess none of us could sleep late today, huh?" he said.

Connie put the plates down and stepped into his arms. "I woke up early and so did Denise. Did we wake you?"

Jeremy grinned at the pretty redhead, "Nah. I tossed and turned, as they say, for the last couple of hours, then just gave up, off day or not."

"We're all worried," Denise said as she broke eggs into a bowl to scramble them.

Jeremy sat at the head of the table where the women always insisted he sit. Connie brought the pot over and poured him a cup of coffee. "So, we're up and all ready to go before six-thirty, but our appointment with the Matthews isn't until ten," she sighed out. "I hope this works. Just when we get everything figured out and things are going along smoothly, then this happens."

Denise poured the eggs into a big skillet. "Crap, I thought this job was solid. When I took it, they told me they had never had to lay anyone off. It pays better than I could ever make anywhere else. Damn. Damn. Damn."

Connie began buttering toast as it came out of the toaster. "I heard the Matthews are rich, but do they have the kind of money to just go out and buy a company like ours?"

Jeremy sat with his coffee in his hand, not yet taking a sip as he worried. "I have no idea if this will work or not, but doing nothing won't help us. We've got to, at least, try."

"We have each other..." Connie started as there was a knock on the front door. She put the butter knife down. "I'll get it."

Suddenly Jeremy, for some reason a little worried, put his coffee down, stood, then took the couple of steps to the doorway leading to the living room and the front door. Stopping to lean against the kitchen door jam, he waited as Connie opened the front door.

Denise pushed the scrambled eggs out of the skillet onto a big platter as Blain snatched the storm door open, the latch letting go with a crash. "What's that?" she gasped out as she dropped the skillet and started for the door, but Jeremy didn't answer. Instead, he was sprinting for the front.

"You fucking bitch," Blain screamed as he backhanded the redhead. The force of the big man's blow spun her around, causing her to crash into the coffee table, then onto the floor, partially stunned.

"You son-of-a-bitch," Jeremy screamed as he neared at a run.

Blain's attention shifted to Jeremy. "Oh, here's pretty boy. I've been wanting to stomp your ass ever since the first time I saw you."

"Call the cops and get an ambulance started for Connie," Jeremy yelled out to Denise. "Check to see if she's hurt badly."

"I'm fine," Connie called out as she staggered to her feet. "I don't need an ambulance."

"Fuck the cops. I want a piece of this big fucker's ass," Denise screamed out as she tried to get past Jeremy.

"No, Denise. Get out of the way," Jeremy hissed out an instant before he realized Blain was in the process of swinging. Jeremy's days in the dojo had warned him and the block came up as a reflex, directing the blow away from his face and over his shoulder. This ass is as slow as molasses,  he thought. If I can just get Denise out of the damn way.

Since Blain's hand was over Jeremy's shoulder anyway, he used the opportunity to slam his knuckles into a nerve center on the big man's shoulder. Blain grunted, confused that someone far smaller than him had managed to hurt him. His right arm suddenly hung at his side, useless. Another hardened fist slammed into his solar plexus, the pain nauseating. He struggled to get his breath back.

As Blain staggered backward, Jeremy caught a heel behind the big man's left foot. He staggered more, stumbling to his left to regain his balance while Jeremy pummeled his ribs on both sides with short strikes too fast for the big man to even hope to avoid, the blows making a dull thudding sound almost too rapid to count. The force of the blows staggered him against the front wall of the house as Jeremy triple punched him in the solar plexus, the blows almost sounding as one.

"Stop Jeremy! You're going to kill him."

"So?" Jeremy said as he stepped back to deliver a side kick to a knee. The big man hit the porch floor hard enough to shake it."

Jeremy knelt by Blain, their faces only inches apart as the big man struggled to breathe. Slowly, enunciating each word, "You touch one of these women again and I'll kill you. That isn't a threat, mother fucker, that's a promise. Anything happens to them, anything at all, and I'll come looking for you. I'll make it a slow death. Now, I pulled those punches, or you would already be dead. Get your sorry ass up and get out of here. If you go to the hospital, you had better tell them you got drunk and fell down your front steps. If I see the cops, I'll kill you. If I even see you looking at my women, I'll kill you. It's all over. You understand?"

Jeremy grabbed Blain's left hand and hauled him to his feet, amazing everyone there, including Jeremy himself. "Just get in that piece of shit out there," he said, waving vaguely toward the driveway, "and get out of here. If Connie is hurt bad, I'll kill you now if you're still within my sight."

Blain staggered to the steps, stumbled and kept from falling by catching on the railing, then almost panicked, hobbled humped over to his car, practically falling into the driver's seat. Starting the car, he backed up, slinging gravel, then spun the car around and roared out of the driveway.

Jeremy turned to go to Connie, but she launched herself against him, sobbing. "I was so afraid for you. He's so big. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Jeremy held her back with a hand on each shoulder so he could look at her. "Hush. Baby. Let me see you. How bad are you hurt?"

"It's nothing. He's done worse before."

"You're going to have one heck of a shiner," he said, his voice suddenly soft as he snuggled her into his arms.

"Let's go inside and get some ice on that," Denise said, practically bouncing up and down, her adrenalin still high.

A few minutes later, Connie held an ice pack against her right eye as they all sat at the kitchen table. "You almost killed him," Connie quietly said.

Denise was in the process of pouring Jeremy a fresh cup of coffee. "So fucking what? That son-of-a-bitch would have killed you for sure."

"I didn't mean..." Connie started. "I'm not concerned about Blain; I just don't want Jeremy to get in trouble."

Jeremy thanked Denise for the coffee. "Connie, if I had wanted to kill him, he would be lying on the porch dead right now. He had obviously come to give you a beating, so I gave him one, instead, to show him how it felt. I didn't break his ribs or his knee. He'll be sore for a few days and in a lot of pain, but the big f ... uh ... He'll be fine."

Denise suddenly sat and began laughing. "You damn sure talked trashy to him, but to us you won't even use the 'f' word."

"My mom and dad..."

" ... Taught you to be a gentleman," Denise finished for him, although that wasn't exactly what he had been going to say.

Connie picked up the platter of scrambled eggs. "We need to throw these out and cook some more. They're stone cold."

Jeremy reached over to take her hand. "Keep that ice pack on your eye. And we can't afford to throw our breakfast away if we're going to be out of work soon. I'll put the eggs in the microwave. The texture won't be the same, but we can make do."

Denise spoke up. "I'll warm the toast up in the oven and put the sausage back in the skillet for a few minutes. Jeremy is right, we need to start conserving now. We might not get another paycheck for a long while."

Jeremy sat back down at the table. "You sure you don't need to have a doctor look at that eye?"

Connie pulled the table back to make room, and plopped down in his lap. "Just be glad this didn't happen at night instead of early morning, with a meeting already scheduled with the Matthews. Otherwise, Denise and I would rape your cute butt."

Jeremy glanced at Denise who grinned back at him. "If that meeting was this afternoon instead of this morning, you might well have lost your virgin status, anyway. Do you realize how sexy that was with you beating the shit out of that mountain of a man like he was a little kid?"

"I didn't..."

"You obviously have no idea what you looked like," Connie said as she pushed her breasts against his chest, hugging him, feeling his hard muscles pressing against her.

"Get your butt out of his lap and help me get the food on the table," Denise said to Connie, teasing.

"Spoil sport," Connie giggled as she got up.

THE RETREAT

Elizabeth and Virginia walked into the kitchen at seven with Cindy and Rachel trailing behind, holding hands — blushing — since they thought everyone would know what happened last night. However, Jeff had said nothing after returning, and Diana had only mentioned that the Tate family had a small problem that was easily fixed. Other than what Jeff's wives heard on the speaker phone, no one knew the details of what had happened in the Tate's suite. Curiosity may have run rampant among Jeff's mates, but it only took a glance at Diana to tell she wasn't going to say anything more. And ... there was that connection between the women. They knew not to ask.

As they walked into the kitchen, Rachel and Cindy had expected to be teased, but it only took a moment for them to realize that the teasing wasn't coming. They were welcomed and given things to do to help prepare breakfast. The good-natured comradery sucked them in, and in minutes they were laughing and having a good time with the others.

Diana and Susan were making biscuits at the bar. "Don't you usually take coffee to the living room for the men?" Virginia asked, as she and her sister took stools next to the two women.

The Queen had a big dough board in front of her, covered with a thin layer of flour, and had just finished patting her biscuit dough out into a uniform layer. She began cutting out biscuits. Susan took them and dipped their bottoms in melted butter before placing them into one of several large, already-prepped baking pans. After she had a number of biscuits in the pan, she brushed the tops with melted butter.

"Yeah, we usually take coffee in, but Jeff wanted to get the hay out of the living room and loaded back on Carla's truck. He thought they could finish while we were preparing breakfast."

"Can we do anything to help you?" Elizabeth asked.

"Sure. There's another dough board on the counter there," Diana said, pointing. "There's more dough ready to go. Just be sure to dip the bottoms of the biscuits in butter, and brush some on their tops after you put them into the pans." Pointing, "There are more cutters and brushes in the drawer there. With Little One, we don't have to worry about extra calories or fat, so we've spoiled our men by buttering the biscuits before we bake them, then we brush butter over the tops again as soon as we take the biscuits out of the oven."

Virginia got the dough board and spread flour on it. Putting the second big ball of dough on the board, she patted the dough out on the floured surface. She and her sister began cutting out biscuits, buttering them and placing them in a pan. Eventually Elizabeth looked over at Diana. "Cindy was very embarrassed about what happened last night, and was worried that the girls would tease her this morning. But you didn't tell anyone did you?"

Diana stopped her process for a second to look over at Elizabeth. "Other than the part of the conversation my sister-wives overheard while the phone was on speaker when Quinton and Jeff talked, I didn't tell anyone, and even if I had, no one would stress Cindy like that. We tease each other, though — sometimes unmercifully, it seems, but we always stop well short of hurting anyone's feelings. By the way, Jeff and I think that Cindy did well to wait and give her virginity to Quinton..."

Susan raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

Elizabeth, proud of her daughters, smiled a mother's smile. "Rachel gave hers to Quinton as well."

Diana's smile widened, "Excellent. So Quinton finally gave up."

Virginia and Elizabeth looked at each other before Elizabeth turned back to Diana. "Cindy practically raped him. We all conspired to get him to make love to my daughters. Rachel sat on his face. As he was licking her, Cindy positioned herself and dropped. By the time Quinton could react, he was already in her as far as he could go. I thought for a second he was going to throw her off, even then, but we talked him out of it. He's been giving both girls oral sex, but he wouldn't let them do him, and he surely wouldn't put his cock into them, so we got together and sort of took charge."

Diana let out a soft chuckle. "I hope Cindy and Rachel see fit to give us the details. That sounds so ... well, sweet isn't exactly the word I'm looking for, but you know what I mean. And ... there's something else. Arlene and I basically set Jeff up the same way. Sometimes you have to push a good man a little."

Virginia looked a bit chagrined for a moment. "It's a wonder Quinton didn't divorce me. I treated him like shit, and I honestly didn't mean to, but when he caught Liz and me, and he fired that gun into the floor, my first thought was that he was going to kill us, but it all worked out in the end." After a moment, she giggled. "Well actually, I hope we're nowhere near the end."

The Queen stopped for a moment as she looked at the sisters again. "Barring your being involved in accidents, or someone taking violent action against you, your statement is truer than you think. I'm sure you've noticed how young you two look? You're likely to look that way for a long time to come — a very long time."

Virginia stopped in the middle of cutting another biscuit out of the dough. "Yeah, we realize that, but it's still hard to believe. But I worry every time Quinton walks out the door. Most Sheriffs sit behind a desk all day, but Quinton hates that part of his job. While the department has been short, he's worked at least one extra patrol shift a week, and sometimes even worked three extra. He has vowed to never expect his people to do anything he wouldn't do on a regular basis. But he has absolutely zero tolerance for someone who is lazy, let alone for a deputy who won't go the extra mile to help someone when they need it."

The ovens were preheated and the biscuits were ready to go in. After they had put them in, Diana set the timer. Turning to the two women, "Are you guys in a hurry this morning, or can you stay with us? We had hoped you would stay at least another night..."

"We haven't talked to Quinton about it, so we don't know if he's going to work an extra shift this weekend. He did say that several new people had completed their orientations and were on the road, so I'm hoping he isn't going to work patrol this weekend. You can bet we would like to stay. I know I speak for all of us when I say we love you people and this great place."

Diana reached to take their hands. "Good. We'll have a long talk after breakfast and bring you up to date on recent happenings. We also need to include Sandra and Bobby. We've managed to tell them a few things, but we need to go over some of our history since we came to live here."

-------

As soon as the men left the living room with the last bales of hay, Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa rolled up the plastic that had been under the bales, stuffing everything in garbage bags. While Jennie and Melissa were carrying the bags to the back for the men to burn in the incinerator, Arlene began to clean the sides and corners with a regular vacuum while Ann ran the big riding vacuum through the open spaces.

No longer needed in the kitchen, Nat, Nicki and Whitney came in to help box up the mood lighting and the small lights from the pumpkins. They also carried the pumpkins (Jack O'Lanterns) to the back for the men to dispose of.

By the time the Alphas were back and washed up, breakfast was ready and the living room was pristine again.

After breakfast, the men were sitting in the living room near the fireplace when Rachel and Cindy came in and walked straight to Quinton. Cindy leaned over and kissed him — really kissed him. As soon as she broke the kiss, Rachel kissed him the same way.

As Rachel straightened back up, Diana, Elizabeth and Virginia came into the living room. Diana stopped near Jeff, but Virginia and Elizabeth walked over to stand by Tate. Cindy looked at Quinton and said loudly enough for all the men to hear, "When are you going to make honest women of us?"

By her demeanor, it was obvious that Cindy meant Elizabeth as well as Rachel to be included in her question. Quinton couldn't believe she had said that in front of Art, Dave and Jeff. The first thought that crossed his mind was that she was teasing, but the look on Cindy's face belied that. Oh, she was teasing all right, but he also knew that his niece was very serious, indeed.

"And don't forget Mom," Rachel added. "The Matthews are having weddings all next week. That would give us time to get our dresses and be ready."

Sheriff Quinton Tate had always considered himself to be as nearly unshockable as a man could be. He had come up through the ranks at the Sheriff's department. He wasn't just some politician who had been elected Sheriff, and he prided himself on having worked every position in his department, even the evidence tech and dispatcher positions. Then his two very pretty nieces torpedoed him in front of his brother Alphas, and ... he was suddenly speechless.

"I, uh ... can't..."

"Diana said she and Jeff would marry us," Cindy offered.

"Be glad to," Jeff tendered, barely managing to keep his face straight and hold back his laughter. Even so, his voice was problematic enough that Tate glared at him.

Rachel squeezed her uncle's hand. "Mom still has her wedding dress from when she and Daddy got married, and Aunt Virginia says hers still fits, too, so you only have to buy two dresses. Diana said she can get us a big discount from the bridal shop she uses."

Quinton realized that others were quietly filing in. He tried to inconspicuously glance around. Everyone is here. This is a setup. Hmmm. Do I care?

He came to his feet and gently pulled Elizabeth, Cindy and Rachel together, forming a short line. Glancing at his wife, who had moved back a step, "You too, Baby. If we do this you'll have to be included, also."

Before he could chicken out, Quinton Tate went to his knees before the four most important people in his life. He cleared a suddenly stopped-up throat as he looked up at the women he loved. Taking a breath, he locked eyes with first Virginia, then after a moment, each of the others in turn. The living room was so quiet that a sudden pop of the fire sounded like a firecracker going off. Neither Tate nor his women noticed it. "If we do this, it will be just as Jeff's marriage is; me with each of you, and each of you to all the others."

The women all nodded as one.

"Okay, with that settled, I ask you, Virginia; will you marry me and the others?"

Virginia hadn't expected things to happen quite this way. In recent weeks, she had hoped he would accept all of them as his women, but she hadn't dared to think he would go to his knees in front of everyone, let alone stipulate that the marriage would be each to everyone else. "Yes. Absolutely yes." She meant to say something else, but she couldn't talk past the lump in her throat and the tears streaming down her face.

Quinton asked each of the others the same question. After they had responded with a very happy affirmative, he came to his feet and starting with Virginia, kissed each of them. When he had finished kissing them, "I guess we need to look for engagement rings, huh?"

The women looked at each other. Virginia spoke for all of them. "No. All they want is a simple gold band like I'm wearing."

Quinton looked at each of them for a second. "You sure?"

Virginia held her left hand out, and Elizabeth spoke up. "That gold band my sister is wearing has an awful lot of meaning. My daughters and I want the same thing."

Both girls were nodding their heads in agreement.

"Well, I guess we need to find a jeweler and get the three of you fitted."

Diana walked over and put her hand on the back of Tate's shoulder. "We have size gauges, and we can give you the Internet address of a jeweler in Denver that we use. If you want to use the gauges, I'll get them for you. If you want the jeweler's physical address, we have that, too. I don't mean to try to sway you. I was just trying to help; there are many more jewelry stores in Denver, of course."

"I think we'll just go and visit the jewelry shop you use. We'll have to be in Denver to pick out wedding dresses, anyway."

Things morphed into hugs from everyone, plus advice and teasing Quinton Tate for waiting so long.

Later, armed with addresses for the jeweler and dress shop, the Sheriff and his women left for Denver, promising to return to spend the night.

-------

Jeremy, driving his pickup with Denise and Connie sitting beside him, turned into the driveway and stopped as the guard, wearing his odd-looking helmet, stood waiting for them.

"Good morning."

Jeremy had let his window down as soon as he saw the guard and the barrier. "I'm Jeremy Carter. We have an appointment with Mr. Matthews..."

"Yes, Sir. I've been expecting you. It will only take a moment to check your vehicle and you'll be on your way." His faceplate slid down as he seemed to glance into the truck, then knelt to hold something attached to a slender rod under the vehicle for a moment. With a glance into the empty bed, he turned back to Jeremy. "Mr. Matthews said to remind you to drive around to the back entrance. Have a nice day," he said, stepping back and dismissing them as the barrier rose to let them pass.

Jeremy and the women had no real idea what the guard's, 'I've been expecting you, ' really meant. Facial recognition software had identified Jeremy and the women while they were still miles down the mountain road. Criminal histories were automatically run by the system. It found one traffic ticket for a stop sign violation for Jeremy when he was eighteen, who the officer was that wrote him, where it occurred, and even the date Jeremy paid the ticket. The women had no criminal or traffic offenses recorded, but the search engines amassed everything known about the three and dumped it into Security's database, just in case.

Denise, who was sitting by the right window, hissed in a breath as she looked down into the abyss just before they made their first switchback. "No wonder Arlene said something about not looking down if we were afraid of heights."

Connie leaned over to look past Denise. "Crap, that thing makes chill bumps. How far down do you think it is?" she asked Denise.

Denise had focused her eyes straight ahead. "Search me, but it's a lot farther to the bottom than the top of a silo is to the ground."

After the switchback, Jeremy's side was closest and he was able to look down into the chasm. "Why in the world would anyone choose to live up here?" he wondered aloud.

"That might be the reason," Connie said a few minutes later when they got their first glimpse of the Retreat.

Jeremy chuckled. "No shit. That's one heck of a house, or hotel — or whatever it is."

Denise and Connie exchanged glances and Denise spoke up, "We knew the Matthews were well off, but from the looks of that ... uh, building we're way out of our class up here. Maybe we just need to find us a wide spot to turn around..."

But Jeremy was shaking his head. "Not going to happen. We're not giving up that easily. They were nice to us when we put up the silos. They worked with us until we were all ready to drop. They didn't get any more sleep than we did. And, they didn't act snobbish when we talked to them last night. We're going to ask, anyway. The worst that can happen is for them to tell us no. If we don't ask, the answer will always be no."

The women sat quietly. A little later, they made the last switchback, then passed the front of the Retreat. "It looks even bigger now that we're here," Connie said. "If it's as beautiful inside..."

Denise tore her eyes away from the Retreat. "You know it will be, and we've agreed to eat lunch with them. And ... I don't even know which fork to use."

Jeremy let out a derisive chuckle that was directed at himself. "You don't. I was raised on a farm. I'm bound to make a fool of myself, but we're asking,  anyway. This was the only idea we could come up with. Mr. Jackson's wife said they had already received an offer, but they were trying to hold off and not sell the company to our competitor, since they would probably close the company and move the equipment to their place. We all know how hard jobs are to find right now, at least jobs that would fit our skill range. This either works or we're fucked."

Connie shifted nervously in her seat as Jeremy drove up the last incline and circled around to the back of the Retreat.

As Jeremy shut the engine off, Denise let out a long sigh, "Then let's make it work."

"What will we tell them?" Connie worried.

Jeremy took his keys out of the ignition, but turned to look at the two women he loved. "We tell them everything, if they'll let us. Straight up, and we don't sugarcoat anything. Our only chance to get our degrees and stay together is sitting in that house. None of us have much in the way of marketable skills. You have your certification and some experience as a crane operator, but we know that none of the construction companies in the area are hiring. Denise and I are basically unskilled laborers."

Connie grabbed Jeremy's and Denise's hands. "If this doesn't work, it won't affect our staying together. If I luck up and get a crane operator's job somewhere, I'll support us until you two land something. But we all stay together whatever happens. We need to make a vow now, before we go in there. Always together."

"Always together," Denise and Jeremy said as one.

Jeremy opened his door. "Let's get it done."

-------

A few minutes earlier, Jeff lay stretched out on a recliner. As Diana walked in, she stood for a second to watch her husband stare into the fire. Walking over, she snuggled in next to him, their arms going around each other as she put her head on his shoulder. "You seemed miles away," she whispered, her face close to his. "What were you thinking so intently about?"

Her mate sighed. "I ... I guess I was just thinking about our lives — about what's happened to us, about the good times, and ... the bad."

"But you were smiling. You couldn't have been thinking about something bad just then."

The Prime let out a soft chuckle. "No. I guess I started out thinking about our Halloween last night, and that somehow morphed into holidays in general, then at about the time you came in I was thinking about our first Christmas with the three of us. We had nothing. We were both still in school, living with your family, and your mom hated the ground I walked on. She and your dad had gone Christmas shopping. I was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree with Arlene lying on my chest. Like any baby, I guess, she was amazed with the Christmas lights. As I lay there with her snuggled in my arms, you came in and stretched out beside me, much as you are now."

After a moment, he went on. "I miss your dad. He was always good to me." Jeff let out a barely-audible sigh, "Even though your mom hated me, she and your dad gave me money for your Christmas gift."

"And she gave me money for yours," Diana inserted.

"Yeah, I know. And I wore that coat for many years afterward."

"We still have it," his wife inserted. "When it was worn out, I refused to throw it away. I couldn't part with it. It brings back memories."

"Even though she hated me, she made sure I wasn't embarrassed by not having something for you Christmas morning. Now she's my wife..."

Diana giggled. "Judging from last night, I think love won out over her dislike for you."

"I guess it's good that we can't know the future, but I'll always remember that first Christmas."

"Me too," the Queen sighed. "Me too."



-------

Chapter 155

As Jeremy's pickup had turned into the driveway, Diana had gotten up for a moment so Jeff could bring the back of the recliner forward. Resettling in his lap, she snuggled with her husband as the couple watched when the computer locked the camera onto the vehicle. The AI zoomed in and the windshield of the pickup seemed to disappear as it was filtered out by the system.

Diana, a look of concern on her face, turned back from the big screen. "They look worried. Baby, I really enjoyed talking to those three when we were helping with the silos. Do you suppose they have a thing going between them now? I mean, the way they looked at each other last night..." Her voice changed, "Jeff, look. Isn't there something wrong with Connie's right eye?"

Before Jeff could answer, "Computer! Zoom in on the woman in the middle," Diana instructed.

Jeff wondered if the computer would figure out what she meant. He need not have worried. By the time the thought had formed, the AI had already zoomed in on Connie. That thing is getting smarter — way smarter.

"Her eye is blood red," Diana said, her voice becoming hard, "and the whole side of her face looks swollen. That better not have been Jeremy who caused that."

Jeff looked at his Queen. "Come on, Di. She might have gotten that at work." But the Prime realized that the injury was fresh. "Then again, that wasn't there last night. You can bet her face will look interesting by tomorrow, but unless I've totally misjudged Jeremy, there's no way he has done that to her. He just isn't the kind to hit a female. I'd stake a lot on that."

"Well, it better not be him. But you're right, that eye wasn't like that when we talked to them at the haunted house last night."

As they were talking, Jeff almost absently brushed a fingertip lightly over a nipple until he realized what he was doing and how her aroused nipples tented her blouse. "Uh, Baby, maybe you should put on a bra before they get here, otherwise, Jeremy won't be able to talk with his tongue getting hard," he chuckled.

Diana glanced down at herself, her swollen nipples poking against her top. "Oops. I was enjoying our just sitting here and didn't even think about a bra." Jeff's eyes followed the sway of her breasts as she stood. "Meet you by the back door," she said as she hurried out of the room.

The Prime reached over for the phone. A moment later when Evie answered from her apartment, "They're coming up the drive." He had already told Dave and Evie he wanted them to sit in on the meeting.

"Be right there," Dave's little Queen replied.

Jeff met a hurrying Diana in the hallway, and they walked to the back door just as the three construction workers parked. After greetings where the Matthews appeared to not notice Connie's eye, Diana invited Jeremy, Denise and Connie to hang their coats in the hall closet, then escorted the three visitors toward the living room. Diana caught Jeff's eye for an instant and shook her head slightly as if telling him to hold off asking about Connie's eye.

As the group stepped into the big room, there was a faint, but audible gasp from Denise and a quiet, "Oh, my. How beautiful," from Connie.

"Once we were able to see your, uh, home as we drove closer, we couldn't seem to take our eyes off of it. It's truly beautiful," Denise said.

"Thank you," The Queen responded as she ushered them to seats grouped near the big fireplace. "It took a while for us to get used to it, but we feel at home now."

Dave and Evie came in, and after refreshing acquaintances with the construction workers, everyone sat. Before anything much could be said, Jennie came in with a serving cart bearing coffee and soft drinks. Jeremy, Denise and Connie, uncomfortable in the rich surroundings, accepted coffee, but it was obvious they felt awkward submerged in the elegance of the room, particularly considering their mission.

Connie had pulled her hair forward on the right side, but with her fair skin and the bloodshot eye, her attempts at covering her injury did little good. Dave and Evie noticed immediately, but like Jeff and Diana, not wanting to embarrass Connie, did not mention the injury.

Jeff sat back and took a sip of his black brew, noting that the three were obviously ill at ease. To start the conversation and perhaps make them feel less stressed, Jeff said, "The place was built as a convention center and retreat for Wainwright, Inc. I sold a patent to them, and the Retreat, as we call our home here, came as part of the deal. Trust me, most of our lives, we've been working people. Diana worked to support us and put me through college..."

"And..." Diana broke in, "Jeff also worked part-time jobs, even in high school, existing on far less sleep than he should have had."

"Anyway," Jeff continued, "we're very grateful for the things that have happened to us, not to mention being very fortunate, and we're well aware of that. Please, just relax and feel at home here. Now what can we do for you?"

The women turned to Jeremy, and Diana noted the looks and grinned at Jeff as if to say, "I told you so," meaning she had thought there was a relationship between the three. She had evidentlly seen something that eased her mind about the possibility of Jeremy having hit Connie.

As Jeff focused his attention totally on Jeremy only a few feet away, the Prime unconsciously tensed, but his Queen, always attuned to her Prime, noticed and looked a question at him. He raised an eyebrow slightly, but she couldn't quite interpret the look.

Just as Jeremy gathered his courage to speak, Selina walked a few steps into the living room and stopped, her kitten riding her shoulder with the seemingly ever-present ball clutched to the side of his mouth.

"Come on in," Jeff encouraged, realizing that Selina might well provide a needed moment of distraction to help the three people in front of him to relax a bit. "You know you're always welcome."

Selina walked over to Jeff, but turned to the construction workers. "Please pardon the interruption. I shall endeavor to insure that the disruption is as brief as possible." Then turning to Jeff and climbing onto his knee, "Might I ask your indulgence to oversee Billy for a short period of time? Doctor Boswell has requested my participation in an experiment. It would be counterproductive for him to accompany me."

"Sure, Baby. I'll try to keep him out of trouble for a while."

"I shall return as soon as the experiment has concluded."

Billy, almost as if he understood, jumped to Jeff's lap as Selina slid to the floor and walked out, her posture erect and her carriage and bearing more representative of a distinguished adult than that of a child of six. The three construction workers stared after her. There was total silence for a few seconds before Jeff's chuckle caused them all to smile, but he made no comment about Selina.

Billy chose that moment to drop his little web ball in Jeff's lap. "Mmeeow," he said, looking up at Jeff's face. The Prime grinned and tossed the ball hard in the direction of the big window. The kitten spun one hundred and eighty degrees and jumped from Jeff's lap, bounding after the jingling ball. The ball bounced on the floor near the window, then hit the glass and ricocheted off to hit a table, changing course yet again, the kitten right behind it. On its last bounce, Billy's claws caught the plastic mesh, the kitten crying out a triumphant, "Mmmeeoowwwww," as he bit down and started back toward Jeff.

Billy jumped, snagging a leg of Jeff's pants and scrambled to his lap. The Prime held out his cupped hand and Billy dropped the ball into it. Turning, his purr easily audible, he crouched on Jeff's knee, looked once over his shoulder before tensing, the tip of his tail swishing, the kitten obviously ready to go. Jeff turned a little to fling the ball farther down the living room. Billy dashed madly behind it. The ball hit the big window on the second bounce, but Billy's jump was short. Missing his target, he flipped in the air to land on his feet, charging off after the ball.

Jeremy's glance went to Jeff for a second, then back to Billy. "I've never seen a cat that would play fetch."

"I've never seen a kitten that would play fetch," Connie expounded.

"Me either," from Denise.

"Billy's a bit, uh, different," Diana offered.

"Now that's an understatement," Evie said with a chuckle.

The kitten ran back with the ball, jumped up and rapidly climbed the rest of the way to Jeff's lap.

"Ouch, Little Dude. Watch those claws."

"Mmeeow," Billy said, dropping the ball in Jeff's lap, then sat back to preen himself.

Diana let out a quiet laugh, "He's showing off for our company. His full name is Billy Bad Ass. We found him high in a bush and half frozen. He threatened to tear us limb from limb when Jeff reached up and caught him; thus the name. But he didn't scratch or bite, despite his threats. It didn't take him long to become a member of the family, either. He tends to somehow escape from Selina's suite, so we take turns keeping an eye on him when she's busy with something. We're afraid he might get hurt in this big building. A door could close on him, or his curiosity could get him into trouble. Should anything happen to him, it would be a tremendous blow to all of us."

Jeff smiled at the three. "So tell us; what can we do for you, Jeremy?"

Jeremy put his cup down, careful to use a coaster on the small table near his seat. Nervously, he glanced at Connie and Denise for an instant before turning fully to Jeff. "I, uh, don't know any other way to put this, so I'll just say it like it is. As I said last night, Mr. Jackson, the owner of our company, has had a major heart attack, but he did make it to the hospital. He had some sort of operation and he's home now. He's supposed to recover, but the doctor told his wife he was going to have to make some major changes in his life. Medication, weight control, exercise and less stress. According to Lee, a lot less stress.

"Apparently Mr. Jackson's wife took the doctor's lecture to heart, because she has convinced Mr. Jackson to sell the company and retire. We had hoped that Lee could come up with the money, somehow, to buy the company, but he says there just isn't any way. From what Lee says, there has only been one company that has shown interest in buying our company and it's our biggest competitor. One of our office people has a cousin who works for the competitor. Word of mouth is they're interested in buying us to eliminate the competition. They would just take over our equipment and resources for their own use and let all the employees go.

"From what Lee says, they're only offering half what the company is worth, but with the way the economy is now, Mr. Jackson doesn't really have any choice. We're all going to be out of work. With all the employees of the company looking for jobs at the same time, no telling how long it will be until Denise, Connie and I can find work. We don't know what to do.

"I don't have any marketable job skills other than what we've been doing, and there are just the two companies in the area that put up tanks, silos, and things of that nature. Construction companies aren't hiring this time of year, and who knows what will happen come spring. It's not as if we have enough money saved up to last that long, anyway. Denise will lose her house. I guess I could move back in with my parents, but Denise's parents are both deceased and Connie's parents are old, not well off, and live in Florida, anyway."

Dave's, Evie's and Jeff's eyes met for the briefest of moments, something so quick that the three construction workers never noticed. Dave sat a little straighter to call their attention to him. "Let's relieve a little of your tension. Worst case is that you lose your jobs. We've seen the three of you work. If you lose your jobs, Evie and I will hire all three of you the next day. It will be entry level to begin with, but as you learn, your pay will increase accordingly. And ... our company pays well above comparable jobs with other companies."

"You mean that?" Jeremy let out before he could stop himself.

"You have my word on it. And..." Dave continued, "as I said, that's just the worst case scenario. There might well be other options. Do you have a number where I can reach Mr. Jackson?"

"Uh, no, but I have Lee's number."

"Is Lee a first or last name?"

"It's his last name, but he just tells everyone to call him Lee."

Dave took a small pad out of his pocket, handed it and a pen to Jeremy, who jotted the number down and gave it back to Dave.

Dave and Evie stood, and Dave turned to Jeff. "We'll make some phone calls and get back to you."

Jeff nodded and Dave and Evie left. Jeremy, Denise and Connie had come prepared to argue the merits of the Matthews or the Hensons purchasing Jackson's company, but expected an uphill battle at the very least. Now, they didn't know what to say. The three looked at each other, not daring to even hope. Denise turned back to Jeff, "What's going to happen..." she started, but wound down.

Jeff stood. "If you don't mind, I need to speak to my wife for a moment, then I'll answer your questions." Diana came to her feet and followed her husband into the hall. Out of earshot, he turned to his Queen. "Something has happened, and I'm not talking about Connie's eye. As best I can understand from Little One, I've gained, or regained as the case may be, the ability to detect some other aspects of an Alpha. I thought that the block had done something to Jesse that allowed me to tell he's an Alpha, and that may well be the case, but it may also have something to do with me. Little One keeps telling me my abilities as a Prime will continue to evolve as atrophied abilities of our species are — brought back on line, so to speak."

"And you're saying..." Diana broke in.

"I'm reading Jeremy as an Alpha. Certainly not as strong as Dave, but still the feeling is there. I didn't feel it on the farm, but I could sense far less at that time than I can now. It's as if the Alpha part of him is barely awake, but it's there..."

" ... and the enhancement from Little One will bring it out," Diana completed for him. "I knew you liked him at the farm, and I did too, as well as the women. Do what you think is best. Besides, we both know we're going to help them."

"You don't have a problem with that?"

Diana, as she frequently did, reached up to grab his neck and pull him down so she could briefly touch her lips to his. "When have I ever said anything derogatory when you've found an Alpha?" She smiled up at him, "I'll take the women with me so you two can talk. I'll find out about Connie's eye, too."

"I don't know whether I want to tell him just now. I don't know him very well..."

"Bull. You know he's a good worker, and we saw that the three of them had ethics when we were working with them. They all knew it had to be a rush job and that Carla was desperate to get her crops in before it rained. He and the women slept in their vehicles for a few hours, then went right back to work." Diana hesitated for a moment, "We've talked about the possibility of ... bad Alphas in the world, but I can't believe he could possibly be one of them. You're a Prime. There's a reason for all of this. I'm positive of it. One day we'll know what it is. Do what you know you have to do."

Jeff tenderly kissed his Queen. Arm in arm the couple walked back into the living room. "Sorry folks. My Queen and I share when we can. I asked her approval for something, and she will share with the rest of my wives."

The reference to Diana as Jeff's Queen did not go unnoticed by Jeremy, Denise and Connie, but they had no time to form questions. Before the looks of confusion on the three could increase, Diana walked over and took Denise and Connie by a hand, gently encouraging them to their feet. "Would you two come with me? It's about time to get lunch started, and we three need to have some girl talk."

Shortly, the women were gone and Jeff motioned to Jeremy. "Let's move over by the window. I like to look out at the mountains. I can't think of anything that relaxes me more — well anything that doesn't include women," he chuckled as he pushed two recliners into position.

By the time they were seated, Nat, Nicki and Whitney came in with a serving cart bearing several types of fresh-baked sweets. The three girls made it a point to kiss their husband while holding their left hands in a manner that Jeremy could easily see their wedding rings. After each kiss, the girl stroked a hand lovingly down Jeff's face with her eyes locked to his, her love and adoration for him obvious.

Jeff introduced them and commented that they were his most recent wives. With a titter of laughter, they rushed out the door.

"That was obviously staged for you, and I apologize if we have embarrassed you, but there's a lot I need to tell you, including the talk Diana and I had in the hallway a few minutes ago."

"No problem. They're, uh, beautiful..."

"Indeed they are, and yes, I'm a very, very lucky man. But then again, you are too."

"Uh..."

"Your women are also very lovely."

"Well, they're not exactly my women. I mean ... we, uh, live together, but we haven't done anything. Well, that's not exactly true, but we haven't had sex. We've combined our incomes to buy what we need and pay the bills. What's left over goes into a joint savings account. Denise invited Connie to live with her, then when I was invited to a meal, they asked if I wanted to join them. Before I teamed up with them, I was hoping to make enough money this year to allow me two years of college. I have one year behind me."

"Toward what?" Jeff asked.

"I want to be a mechanical engineer, I suppose, although that isn't written in stone at this point."

"And they're going to work towards..."

"They don't know yet, and so far most of this is just a dream. Now the whole thing seems like it's going to blow up because of Mr. Jackson's heart attack."

Jeff pushed the recliner back a little, crossed his ankles and caught his hands behind his head, thinking as he stared out the window. After a moment, "What about on-line college courses for all three of you?"

"I took some of my courses that way, but they're just as expensive. It would save on the commute, though."

"What about your company? Since you don't work in the office, I guess you don't know anything about profitability, right?" Jeff asked, just trying to get Jeremy to relax and talk.

"Not really. Uh, but from talking to the guys who have worked for the company for a long time, they say we always get a raise, not a lot, but five or six percent. But it's every year. We also have some decent insurance, I think, although I've never used it, and we get two weeks paid vacation a year and all the usual holidays with pay. Our payday has never been late since I've worked for them, and as far as I know, we're all treated fairly. It's hard work, and some of it is dangerous, but the supervisors are sticklers for safety. That's about all I know."

"You've met the owner, this Jackson?"

"Oh, sure. He works in the office, of course, but he frequently comes out on jobsites and talks to Lee, and the other supervisors too, I guess." There was a hesitation, then, "Uh, Mr. Matthews..."

"Jeff. Still just Jeff, just like it was when we were all on Carla's farm."

"Uh, Jeff..."

Knowing what Jeremy was probably going to ask, Jeff spoke up, "Dave and Evie are my project managers, to use their proper titles, but actually they're far more than that. To say that they are also close friends would be a grievous understatement that you'll better understand later on."

Jeff got up and pushed the serving cart near. "Why don't you try another of those doughnuts while I tell you a couple of things?"

As Jeremy bit into the doughnut, "Do you know what an Alpha is?"

Jeremy, looking puzzled, took a sip of his refreshed coffee to wash down the doughnut. "I'm familiar with the term, I guess. We used to have a German shepherd who was the obvious alpha male to our other dogs, if that's what you mean."

Jeff chuckled. "Did you ever think about an Alpha in relation to humans?"

Jeremy laughed. "Well, I saw this movie once where this bad guy called himself an Alpha."

"What if I told you there were real Alphas — human Alphas?"

"Well, I don't know," Jeremy hedged, not wanting to piss off the guy he was trying to talk into buying the company they were hoping to save.

" ... And that you have some buried aspects of one?"

"Me?" Jeremy blurted. "I'm the lowest man on the totem pole. I'm a laborer, a gofer. I do what the boss tells me to do."

"Uhmmm hmmm. And did you know that Lee told me you were one of his best workers, even though you had only been with the company for a year? And that you could already do any job they had, other than operate the crane, and ... you would have learned that, if he had allowed you?"

"Well, I was raised to give an honest day's work. My dad says that's part of a man's honor."

"Why haven't you applied for a scholarship, or help from the government toward your college education?"

"Well, I just wanted to do it myself. I didn't want to wind up owing thousands of dollars when I graduated. Look, uh, Jeff, we didn't come here wanting a handout. We're just hoping to get someone to buy the company so we can keep our jobs."

Jeff chuckled. "I won't insult you by offering a handout, but there are organizations that will probably help you with your tuition, help your women as well." And I know of a foundation that will pay every cent of your education, and that of your women, too. Now if I can just get around your pride,  he thought.

"They're not..."

"I think Alphas tend to attract multiple mates. Dave now has three, and Frank Wainwright has two. The way those two young ladies look at you only tends to make me more certain that you're one of us."

"But I'm ... I mean..."

Jeff leaned back and returned his gaze to the snow-covered mountains outside the big window. Life is interesting.

-------

In the suite where Hope had stored her art supplies, Arlene and Ann had spent the early part of the morning setting up a computer system. They had moved in one of the large hi-res screens they used in the school for CAD program exercises, then added a second monitor. Helen had researched the subject and had bought and downloaded a program used by several police departments to aid sketch artists. Unknown to Hope, Arlene and Ann had used the program to download and print out a database of generalized faces, and also a database of outlines of various types of faces, noses, eyes, hair, etc., to aid her as she sketched the people Art remembered. All of this could be brought up on the big screens as well.

Helen had coached Art in self-hypnosis so that he could relax himself and better remember the faces of the people he had seen while working with the slavers. Hope, worried that she would not be able to do what an experienced sketch artist could do, had spent every free moment reading any and all material she could find on the subject.

Now Arlene, Ann and Hope sat on the couch in the suite. "You ready?" Arlene asked.

"I'm scared to death," Hope said, "and you know it. I'm shaking like a leaf. I don't know if I can do this. This is really, really important. What if I screw up? This is something that professional artists do, not fifteen-year-old girls. I read that there are only a few full-time police sketch artists in the United States. Even they don't expect the sketch to be usable more than twenty-five percent of the time — at best. What if I screw this up? I can do a creditable job of sketching someone's face, but I barely know where to start doing it from Art's memory. I..."

Arlene reached over and hugged Hope for a second. Pulling back, "You've read all this stuff about how police and FBI sketch artists do it, and I've scanned through most of it, too. It's obvious there's a lot of variation from artist to artist. Art's an Alpha and he has been enhanced by Little One, and whether you fully realize it or not, you have been too. He's been trained by the FBI to really look at people and remember them. He's not some person off the street who has just had something bad happen to him and suddenly has to try and tell an artist what that person looked like. Art told Helen he could see the people clearly in his mind, and with her helping him to learn to relax with the self hypnotism, he'll be an excellent subject. Plus ... he knows you're new at this. He's a good guy, Hope. You know that. He saved you. Just relax and let your talent take over. The rest will work itself out. Mom and Dad have faith in you, and the rest of us do too. You're set up and ready to go. If you get tired or frustrated, Art won't think a thing about it if you want to take a day off."

"Could ... Could I try it with you first?"

"Me? Uh..."

"I mean with someone that I haven't seen before, but you have. We could kinda get me started that way, don't you think? Someone that you knew from your previous school, maybe?"

A memory popped into Arlene's mind. "Uh, yeah. But we trash the sketch afterward, promise?"

"Sure," Hope giggled, wondering.

An hour later, the three girls sat looking at a sketch of Arnie — a perfect sketch of Arnie. "And he's..." Hope said, looking at the sketch. "Hey,  he looks familiar."

"Yeah," Arlene said, "he used to live next door to me in Georgia."

"Boyfriend?" Hope asked, smiling.

"Yeah, but things didn't work out; thank goodness. I'll have to tell you all about it one of these days, but he's a ... sore spot with Daddy, so we need to destroy the picture. I don't want to make my husband mad. But you've just proved that you can do this, and do it well."

"Gosh, it wasn't me. You told me everything to do. Eyebrows too thick, eyes a little too close together, nose too long. On and on. Everything. We changed the sketch until you said it was right. Too bad we don't have a picture to compare it to."

Arlene snatched the sketch up. "Oh, I have a picture, but I'm not going to dig it out and chance hurting my husband's feelings, nor chance his anger. Trust me, this sketch is like a picture of Arnie. This goes through the shredder right now before Daddy walks in here," she finished, adding action to words.

Arlene turned back to Hope. "Hope, I chose Arnie since I could easily remember him because of the things that happened. It was puppy love and long over with. My husband knows all about it. Please don't..."

"Don't worry. I would never do anything to make him mad at you, and I sure don't want him mad at me, either."

Ann smiled at Hope. "Ready for Art now?"

"Yeah, I think so, but let's set the sketching up for this afternoon."

Ann reached over and picked up the phone.



-------

Chapter 156

Jeff and Jeremy were sitting in the living room as Jeff tried to explain what an Alpha was. Jeremy didn't understand how Jeff could possibly know that he (Jeremy) was an Alpha, but Jeff's explanation didn't convince Jeremy at all. Shaking his head, "No disrespect, but I don't think I'm one of those, whoever or whatever they are. There's nothing particularly different about me, at least not that I've noticed. I've had enough martial arts training to defend myself. I made decent grades in high school, and I've made better ones in college, but I'm a long way from being a genius. I had a girlfriend dump me for my so-called best friend. I never got much past first base with her, but he got in her pants easily enough. In no time, she had moved in with him. She surely didn't act as if I were anything special."

Jeff, not dissuaded at all, grinned over at the young man next to him as they sat near each other. "And Denise and Connie?"

"Uh, well, they're different..."

"They look like women to me," Jeff teased. "Darned good-looking ones, I might add."

"Yeah, but ... I mean; we're just living together because of our finances. Well ... we have made out a little..." he said, winding down as he remembered how both women had kissed him and pressed their braless breasts against him. He had sucked their nipples and they had both had orgasms. He thought that either of them would have slept with him if he had pushed — well, maybe they would have. But I don't want to hurt them. If I choose one, I'll hurt the other one, won't I?

"Why don't you three spend the night with us? It's obvious we have plenty of room." And I'll come visit with Little One. By morning, you'll feel better than you ever have in your life,  Jeff concluded to himself.

Jeremy sat stunned for a moment. Spend the night with these rich people? Why would he want us to do that? But I can't afford to piss him off. We've got to do everything we can to get either him or Mr. Henson to buy our company. I know the Hensons have a big construction outfit, and his job offer has cut way back on the stress, but I want to keep doing what I'm doing, and Connie would surely have to take a pay cut unless Mr. Henson has a crane operator's job open. But then again, we know he hasn't because he said the jobs would be entry level. It isn't fair for Connie to start over again. Surely the Henson's have the money to buy our outfit, or could borrow it through their company. Our company is certain to be a money maker. They've got to see it would be a good investment. From the looks of this ... place, Mr. Matthews surely has the money, but now he's talking about Alphas. I'm not an Alpha, whatever that really is. How could he possibly sense something like that, anyway? Maybe he's somehow testing me. But I'm not going to pretend to be something that I'm not.

"Jeff?" Diana called from the doorway. As the Prime turned to look at her, she motioned to him. Her face was flushed with only partially concealed anger.

"Be back in a sec, Jeremy. Diana wants something," the Prime said, getting up.

Jeremy nodded absently, his mind locked on his own worries.

When Jeff got to her, the Queen grabbed his hand and hurried him down the hall far enough to be out of earshot. "This block thing has got to go," she hissed out. "Oh, I had Connie pour some warm salt water through her eye. She was skeptical at first, but she tried it. She said her eye felt better afterward..."

"Did she say what happened about the eye?"

"Yes, but I don't have the whole story yet. But that isn't what I want to talk to you about," she said, determined to get back on topic. "I was explaining to Denise and Connie what an Alpha is, and I must have tried to say something that was prohibited. I got a little pissed and pushed it. I darn near had to run to the bathroom to throw up. They probably think I'm pregnant and having morning sickness or something. That, or else they think I'm a total fruitcake because of the way I acted. That thing shut me down in mid-word," she muttered. "You had Little One get rid of your block; I need mine removed as well."

"Di, I can't have Little One do that without the General's permission. I gave my word," he quietly answered.

Diana bit back a response, took a breath and continued, "Okay. I understand, but ... I want you to ask him, and I want you to make an honest effort when you do. It's not as if I'm going to tell anyone our secrets. You say that Jeremy is an Alpha. Well, his mates need to know what an Alpha is, right? Why do I have to wait until Little One enhances them and we use the block on them?"

"Mates? What have they told you? Jeremy indicated that they haven't had sex."

"Told me? They didn't have to tell me anything. It's obvious they're head over heels in love with him. But yes, they've also told me they haven't done anything. But they're a little older than he is and they're all upset that they will hold him back, whatever that means? But they're also willing to be his women until he finds someone his own age. And, yeah, I know how ridiculous that sounds, but they love him enough to do just that, I think."

"Okay, Baby, I'll ask the General, but no promises. I don't think he was too pleased when I told him I had circumvented my blocks, but he trusts me and also knows I have every reason to keep things secret."

" ... and you're a Prime and there's not a whole lot he can do about it," Diana finished for him. Before Jeff could object, she went on, "I'm your Queen. Sometimes I need to say a little more than I can with this crappy block in place. That's all I ask, just enough to allow me a little leeway."

"I'll talk to him and see what he says. Changing the subject, I've also asked Jeremy to spend the night. Uh, Jeremy and his women, of course."

Diana kissed his cheek. "So you can use the Healer on them? Good. I'll mention the overnight to the women. We should be able to find something for them to do this afternoon to pass the time. Oh, and we'll have lunch ready in thirty minutes." A quick, hard kiss, a swish of her sexy ass, and she turned back toward the kitchen.

-------

Jeff had just regained his seat in the living room when Dave and Evie walked back in and sat. "We have a budding Alpha," Jeff said as he nodded to Jeremy.

Dave grinned over at Jeremy. "Well, congratulations. Evie and I thought you were special."

Jeremy couldn't think of anything intelligent to say, and rather than make a fool of himself, just smiled back — albeit, the smile was a bit tenuous.

Evie let out her sexy little giggle. "Those two you brought with you are a strong argument that says you might be an Alpha. Both are even a little older than you, yet you have attracted them."

Jeremy's face flushed red. "We're just good friends."

Jeff, Dave and Evie all smiled knowingly at each other, then Dave turned to Jeff. "Lee gave us Mr. Jackson's number and we called. His wife wouldn't let me talk to him until I told her that we were interested in buying the construction company. Even then, she stayed on the line. I set up a meeting with him — well, them — Monday at nine o'clock. His wife made it very clear that the discussion would be low key and her husband was not to be stressed in any way or she would end the meeting permanently."

"Man, that doesn't sound like Jackson," Jeremy said. "He had his hands into everything,  and he worked twelve hours a day, six days a week. At least that's what Lee told me, and often Mr. Jackson would still be at the office when we came in late from a jobsite."

Jeff's face became serious. "Our legal people are going to have to inspect his books at some point, if this is going to fly."

"Ahead of you. Evie and I have already talked to the attorney and the accountant. They're set to go as soon as we talk with Jackson."

"But it's Saturday..." Jeremy started before his mind caught up and he figured it out. These two got in touch with an attorney and an accountant on a Saturday morning. I had to wait a week to get an appointment with an attorney. I guess money does talk.

Jeff basically knew what Jeremy was thinking and fought back a grin. I wonder what he would think of Frank's version of having an attorney and accountant to hand is? He just takes a couple of each with him when he thinks they might be needed. You can bet he has at least one of each waiting in Midville for him right now.

"Come and get it before we throw it out," Arlene announced over the PA.

Jeff came to his feet. "Let's wash up and see what the women have prepared for us."

A couple of minutes later, they had finished washing their hands. As they walked down the hall, "We usually just eat in the kitchen at the big table, unless there are too many of us, or the women decide to use one of the dining rooms."

"Sounds good to me," Jeremy replied as Jeff pushed the door open for him.

Inside the kitchen, Denise and Connie smiled almost timidly at Jeremy, then came over and stood by him. He put his arms around them and pulled them against his sides, all of them facing Jeff. The faces of the two women were flushed, but they held their heads high and smiled.

Diana's touch,  Jeff thought as he noticed the change, but Connie's cheek looks a little more swollen and it's starting to discolor more. She's going to have a shiner before the day is out. "You guys ready to eat?" he asked.

"You bet," Jeremy answered for all of them. It's hard to not like these people,  he thought as Jennie and Melissa ushered the three to the steam table. As they were loading their plates a few minutes later, Jennie reached past Jeremy to add more creamed potatoes to his plate. "Alphas eat a lot, that's the reason the plate is so big. Don't be bashful. Our husband will eat three times as much as you have on your plate."

When they sat, they all joined hands while Jeff said a short prayer of thanks. Mom would like these people,  Jeremy thought.

MIDVILLE, WYOMING

At the small, mostly-deserted airport a few miles from town, the helicopter slowly sank to the pad near a decrepit-looking concrete block building. Jill called out, pointing through one of the copter's windows to a couple standing near an older car, "There! There they are."

Three new-looking SUVs were parked side-by-side a little farther away.

As soon as the blades came to a stop, Jill was out the door and running toward the preacher and his wife. She slammed into the two with tears of joy already streaming down her face. "When I left here, I never thought I would live to see you two again," she choked out as she struggled to hug both of them at the same time. Soon, even the preacher's eyes were moist.

She turned partially toward the helicopter, pointing, "That's my husband in the pilot's seat. He'll be here in a minute. How have you been? Is everything okay?" Without giving them time to answer, she motioned to Kathy, who was nearing them.

"This is my ... sister-wife, Kathy."

Jill had, of course, told them on the phone about Kathy, but Jill was still a little worried. She need not have been. Megan (the preacher's wife) didn't seem to even bat an eye, being a pastor's wife for many years and having become accustomed to the peculiarities of families, but Luther got a hand out before she could. "Welcome, Kathy. I'm Luther Cambridge, and this is my wife Megan."

Two of the men from the group near the SUVs, jogged over to the helicopter to help with the luggage as Bill and Clarence Reed put it on the pavement by the copter.

The men took the luggage, putting three cases into one SUV while the rest of the luggage went into another of the SUVs. Bill, the copter secured and the luggage taken care of, walked over.

"And this great looking guy is our husband, Bill."

Bill stuck out his hand to grasp the preacher's, tightly. "We've talked on the phone, and I've thanked you for what the two of you did, but Sir, and Ma'am, again, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Jill would not have made it without the help the two of you gave her. What's mine is yours and always will be."

"We're so glad we could help in our small way," Megan said, "and goodness, but you surely do look in the best of health now," she finished, the last directed to Jill.

"Frank, you guys come on over," Bill called out, waving to Wainwright, Margaret and Tina who had remained standing near the helicopter to give Jill and her family time alone with the pastor and his wife.

Ray Tingle, Wainwright's second in command is Chief Executive Officer now that Margaret and Frank were spending so much time away from the business, stood by one of the SUVs. Others stood waiting for Frank and Margaret, but somehow they didn't seem interested in looking directly at them, but rather seemed to very subtly scan the area, instead. The driver of the last SUV got out to help with the luggage, then stood by his vehicle.

After introductions, Wainwright said, "I had an extra vehicle brought over for your use, Bill. Margaret, Tina and I are going into town to eat and we're taking Clarence (the pilot) with us." Turning back to the preacher, "You and your wife are welcome to go with us. More than welcome."

"I have a roast in the oven, and it should be done by the time we get back," Megan said. "I have enough for everyone if..."

Margaret smiled with a little laugh to go along with it. "We won't intrude on your reunion. Ray has reservations for us at the motel after we stop by and eat at the restaurant. Would you meet us for dinner about six? We were told there's only one restaurant, so you surely know where it is."

Megan and Luther glanced at each other. "Six is good for us," he agreed. "We'll meet you there."

Wainwright waved to the pilot to accompany him. Shortly, Wainwright's group was driving away in their SUVs, leaving the one SUV behind for Bill's group.

"You really don't need that," the preacher said. "We can give you a lift to your motel after supper, or you are certainly welcome to stay with us. We have a spare bedroom, and it, uh, has a queen-size bed." This time, the preacher's face did flush.

Bill smiled at him. "We'll take the vehicle in case we decide to look around a little. Our room is already reserved, so we had better sleep there, but we appreciate the offer."

"I'm going to ride in with Luther and Megan," Jill said as she pulled Bill's face down for a quick kiss. Then did the same to Kathy. "Do you two mind?"

"Not at all, My Love," Bill replied as Kathy shook her head. "See you there in a few minutes." Then turning to Luther, "We'll just follow you, Sir."

Jill hugged Kathy for a second, then grabbed Megan's hand, talking earnestly to her as they walked over to the preacher's vehicle.

Bill pulled out behind the preacher's car. On the road, he glanced at Kathy sitting beside him. "I told Jill we still had plenty of time to stop the divorce, but she insisted it go forward. She's obviously still feeling guilty about what she did with Ingles. Ridiculous, since she was drugged and hypnotized, but she won't budge. She says she disrespected me and our marriage. Look, Baby, I don't care which of you it is, but I think it would be better if I were legally married to one of you. No telling what may come up in the future. What do you think? I know the two of you have talked about it, right? I feel just as married to you as I do her, but that piece of paper could..."

"Bill, I love you, and with Diana and Jeff marrying us, I wouldn't feel any more married if I had a marriage certificate from the state declaring it to be so. But I agree; Jill didn't do anything wrong, and your legal marriage should continue. I'm sure I can change her mind if that's what you want."

"I just don't want to see that final decree come in the mail. She doesn't deserve that. It just seems like ... rewarding Ingles, somehow."

"She and I have become closer than I ever thought possible. I'll talk to her."

"That sounds good, Baby. Thank you." He hesitated as Luther up ahead of them turned into a driveway. "Looks like this is it."

"I'm a little uptight about this," Kathy said, her voice tense. "Nothing like visiting a preacher and being the second woman in a marriage."

Bill thought for a second, then answering her literally, "Somehow, I don't think you're second, and I think you know that."

Kathy blushed. "You know what I mean. Two wives and we're visiting a preacher?"

Bill chuckled. "Oh, you don't want to spend the night with them because you don't want the preacher and his wife to hear us when we make love?"

"No, " Kathy hissed out. "We will not make love if we spend the night here. Besides, you've already told them we have a motel room." He's teasing me. I know he's teasing me.

Kathy punched him lightly on the shoulder as he shut the engine off. "You weren't exactly quiet, either, when I sucked you off early this morning, and you know I'm thrilled to be your wife, but if we spend the night here, we are not making love."

Bill grinned as he opened his door to get out.

THE RETREAT

After cleanup in the kitchen, Jeff and Diana were showing Jeremy, Denise and Connie around the retreat when Jennie and Melissa came strolling up wearing their snowmobile outfits. "We're going snowmobiling. You guys want to go with us?" Jennie asked the three workers.

Jeremy looked at the others for a second, "Uh..."

"You should go," Jeff said. "There's plenty of fresh snow, and the girls have laid out two routes that are really fun." Addressing Jeremy, "Have you ridden a snowmobile before?"

"We had one on the farm to get to the cattle when the snow was deep."

Connie and Denise looked at each other for a second, both of them shaking their heads.

"No problem," Ann said, addressing the women, "they're easy and we have a great place to ride."

"Only one problem..." Jeremy started.

Jeff chuckled, knowing what Jeremy was probably going to say. "Frank Wainwright built this place. We have a whole room full of snowmobile outfits. The girls will get you outfitted. Go have fun."

Turning to Jennie and Melissa, "Bring them back in one piece." Jeremy and his women thought he was kidding — he wasn't.

The two young wives grinned. "Oh, they might have a bruise or two, but they'll be in one piece," Melissa laughed.

As soon as the others were out of sight, Jeff turned to his Queen. "Did you start this?"

Diana just laughed at him. "I told Jennie and Melissa to take them on both paths. They'll be tired and ready for supper when they get back. You know that Arlene and Ann are going to help Hope as she sketches for Art, don't you?"

"Yeah, Arlene told me. I hope it works out well. Arlene sure thinks it will. Oh, yeah, have you talked to Jill and Kathy?"

"Yeah, that was Kathy calling earlier. They're there and are spending the afternoon with the preacher and his wife. Kathy said that Bill was nervous about his plan to get them to take the vacation he's planning to give them."

"Did Bill ever tell you how much he was going to give to the preacher's church?"

"Bill didn't, but Kathy did. A hundred thousand."

Jeff stopped to look at his wife as they walked down one of the halls on the back side of the building. "I know that Frank has paid him well, and Bill has some investments, guided by Frank of course, but still, that's a lot of money for a pilot to give away in a lump sum."

"I think he has more money than we think he has."

As they resumed their walk, "When we first discussed his divorce, Bill told me he had money set aside for his retirement that Jill didn't know about, also some investments."

Diana thought for a moment. "As sick as Jill was, she would never have made it without their help and the five hundred that those two so unselfishly gave her. Actually, she spent very little of that five hundred, though. She only used money for gas and eats. She didn't have a credit card with her, so the motels wouldn't rent her a room, refusing cash and thus forcing her to sleep in her car. Jill told me she was afraid to send the five hundred back to the preacher because she had promised to give money to someone else in need, instead of returning it to him and his wife."

Guiding his wife into one of the window alcoves, the Prime pulled her onto his lap as he sat. They snuggled and kissed for a moment. Quietly, "I suspect Bill is treading dangerously close to that preacher's principles if Bill intends to conditionally give the money to his church, particularly with the stipulation being that the preacher and his wife go on a prepaid vacation."

"Yeah, I know," Diana agreed, "and also the people in that little town will probably be highly suspicious of Frank and his people as well. They're outsiders claiming to be there to help the town out. Too many large companies have made promises like that, only to screw over people. Unless I miss my guess, it's going to be hard to build trust for Frank and his team. I hope all this doesn't blow up in his face."

"Yeah, well, he is a billionaire, and he didn't get there by being stupid." Jeff pulled her top over her breasts, then pushed her bra up.

"Baby, we have people..."

Jeff's answer was a little slurred as he stopped to talk around the nipple in his mouth. "Relax. I'll hear them in plenty of time. You haven't used the breast pump today, have you?"

"Nooo," Diana sighed out as she felt him suck hard on a nipple and the tingle begin as her milk squirted into his mouth, "I left it all for you," she finished with a quiet giggle. Then, "Oh, Jeff. Oh, Jeff, that feels so good." A moment later, "I'm gonna..." But she choked off the scream before she could alert the whole Retreat.

When her orgasm ended, Diana frowned. "I hope Jennie and Melissa are too far away to feel my orgasms. That would be embarrassing for them with new people around." Then answering herself, "I don't think we can feel one way out there where we keep the snowmobiles."

Jeff started on her other breast and she forgot to worry.

-------

Arlene, Ann and Hope walked into the suite where Hope was going to try to sketch from Art's memory. "You still uptight?" Ann asked Hope.

Hope plopped down on the couch and smiled. "Yeah, but not nearly as much as I was before we practiced this morning."

Arlene opened the door of the small refrigerator and looked back over her shoulder. "Anybody want a coke?"

Ann shook her head, "I'm fine."

"Mountain Dew," Hope responded.

Arlene gave Hope her drink and plopped down on one of the seats, hanging her legs over the arm. All of the girls were wearing tight shorts with pullover tops. Arlene and Ann had become accustomed to going without a bra and were now slightly uncomfortable if they had to wear one. The two had agreed that they should wear bras since they would be closely working with Art and would basically be alone with him. It wasn't that they didn't trust an Alpha, but they worried they might distract him. Also, Jeremy, Denise and Connie would be back from their ride eventually.

Arlene answered the knock on the door and was amused to see that Art was accompanied by Sandra and Bobby. Jeff's young wives passed a look and a grin, but the nurses were sharp, too. "We just came to wish you guys success," Bobby said a bit defensively.

The two kissed their mate and stepped out the door, Arlene right behind them. "We didn't mean to intrude..." Sandra started.

Arlene smiled at her. "You didn't intrude. Alphas and their mates are different," the young queen went on. "Once you mate with him and a few other things happen, you'll know that none of us would ever go after your man, just as you won't go after ours."

"Was it that obvious?" Sandra said with a little laugh. "We thought we were being subtle."

"You were subtle. Your husband is a good-looking guy. Sexy as can be, but ... he's not our husband. Ann or I could never touch your man..."

"And Hope?" Bobby asked.

"Might very well be one of your sister-wives one day. Right now, though, she doesn't want anything sexually to do with any man. I doubt if she could even be in a room alone with another man other than the Alphas here, and even then, she's sometimes very ill at ease. Ann and I are here to assist her with the computer program, but I think Hope is also pleased to not be entirely alone with a man right now, even if he is an Alpha and eminently trustworthy."

Hugs all around and the green monster tamed, Sandra and Bobby decided to try out the game room while they waited for Art. Back inside the suite, Arlene and Ann passed another look, then both girls grinned.

Art sat with his eyes closed while he put himself through the relaxation techniques Helen had taught him. Then while he was deeply relaxed, he brought up the face of one of the first men he was trying to remember. After having done this several times with Helen, the memory of the man he had driven from the private jet to meet his (Art's) boss with the slavers swam into sharp focus. The enhanced Alpha's memory and the training he had received at the academy brought out every detail of the man's face.

Art sat at the table between Hope and Ann. "Let's start with a general outline of the face," Hope said desiring to sound confident.



-------

Chapter 157

Blain Benton sat alone in a jail cell. The cops had called it a holding cell, but it was all steel walls with four tiered bunks, two each on opposing walls. The commode and the water fountain were also steel. He had been in drunk tanks before. If this wasn't one, it damn sure favored it, he mused.

They had given him a blanket to put between his ass and the cold steel of the bunk. He had tried lying down, but somehow the pain was less when he was sitting up and slumped forward, his forearms on his thighs.

An hour earlier:

He had just started another bottle of wine — his last from the burglary — when there was a knock on the front door. He had heard enough cop knocks to recognize this one. His heart thudding, he briefly considered running out the back door, but that idea was quickly quenched with the pain of his next breath. The center of his chest hurt like hell; his ribs on both sides hurt like hell; his knee hurt like hell. He struggled slowly to his feet, hobbled over and opened the door. Trying his best to salvage what little of his pride remained, he strained to stand erect.

The lead cop looked up at the giant in front of him. "Son. Of. A. Bitch," he muttered. At the door were four of Denver's finest, two of them with Tasers in their hands. There were two distinctive pops from the direction of the other two cops. Blain, having heard it before, recognized the sound of the cops unsnapping their holsters.

When the detective in charge of the burglary had watched the tape from the camera at the rear of the grocery store and realized how big the perp was, he alerted the patrol Sergeant, who sent four patrolmen to make the arrest.

"Mr. Blain Benton?"

He thought about denying it, but it was obvious they knew who he was. "Yeah, that's me. What you want?"

"We have a burglary warrant for your arrest, and ... we need to have an understanding. We pulled your record. Know this! All of us are going home at the end of this shift," the cop said, gesturing to his buddies. "Whether you leave here courtesy of the coroner, or quietly go with us is entirely up to you. You're too damn big to fight. So there are only those two options. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Blain was too sore to fight, even if he had been foolish enough to try. "Don't worry, I ain't that stupid," he got out, eyeing the Tasers that he hated, and wondering how in the hell the cops had figured out it was him.

While he was being booked, one of the cops asked about his limp, as they belatedly realized he had been injured. The jailer offered him medical treatment, but to Blain that would have only added insult to go along with the injuries the kid had given him. A little later, they asked him again if he wanted to go to the hospital. When he told them, "No," the second time, they had him sign a paper stating he had refused medical treatment. They made him take his shirt off, and took pictures of his bruises, then made him drop his pants while they took close-ups of his swollen knee.

They didn't bother to question him about the burglary, but asked him if he wanted a lawyer. They did grill him about his injuries, obviously wondering how bad the people he fought had been hurt. Remembering Jeremy's very sincere warning, he told them he had fallen down a long flight of steps, but wouldn't say any more about his injuries. That really pissed the cops off. A detective eventually stopped by his cell and read him his rights again, then asked if he wanted to confess. When Blain told him, "No," the detective just grinned and left.

One of the cops shared with him that they had the entire burglary on video, which included some good footage of him breaking in the back door before putting on his ski mask, and, oh incidentally, his tag number showed up just fine.

Now he sat waiting to be moved to a regular cell. The cops told him his bail would probably be around twenty thousand, but that would be after the arraignment. He was pretty sure they were fucking with him. How did they know how much the bail would be? And it seemed way too high. No way could he raise the twenty thousand dollar bail. He didn't even have the two hundred any more, since the cops had taken the money he'd gotten out of the register, let alone the two thousand he would need for the bondsman.

He thought about eventually getting out of jail and going after Jeremy, maybe with a rifle. But what if I fuck up the shot? Jeremy had struck terror in the giant's heart. Fuck them. Fuck all of them. I'll leave the state when I get out of jail. That bitch wasn't any good in bed, anyway. Maybe the kid will knock her up and toss her out on her ass. "Yeah," he managed aloud with a halfhearted chuckle. He thought about eventually seeing Connie waddling around with her milk-bloated tits hanging down to her swollen belly. Yeah, that'll teach the bitch.

He maneuvered around until he was able to lie prone. Naturally, the cell door opened just as he had finally managed to get reasonably comfortable.

"We're going to move you to a regular cell," the jailer said. "Your arraignment isn't until Monday morning.

Blain sighed and began the struggle to sit up.

"The arresting officers say you didn't give them any trouble, so once you're in the other cell, I'll bring you an ice pack for that knee, and some Tylenol. You sure you don't want to go to the emergency room and get checked out?" the jailer asked yet again.

"Nope. Just fell down some steps. No big deal," he answered through gritted teeth as his ribs objected to the strain of sitting up.

-------

Arlene and Ann had long since left to go play in the game room after it became obvious that Hope didn't need them any more, and wasn't having any problems with Art being near her. He now sat with the final sketch in his hand. There had been three previous ones she had trashed, only to start over again, but she had learned each time.

"That was work," Art sighed. "It was stressful for me; I can just imagine how much it was for you."

Hope stood and walked toward the fridge. "Want something to drink?"

"Yeah. Whatever you're having will be fine."

Art move to a more comfortable chair and accepted the soft drink Hope handed him a moment later. He took a swallow of his drink, the sketch still in his hand as she sat on the couch facing him. She picked up her sketchpad and pencil, starting to move her pencil quickly about her pad. She glanced up at him from time to time, but didn't say anything.

Art was aware that she was sketching him, but tried to ignore what she was doing. Indicating the sketch of the slaver in his hand, "This is better than I ever imagined it would be. If his face is in our data banks, the software is bound to recognize him. You have a great talent. I really appreciate your doing this."

"No problem. I enjoyed it. I think I'm getting the hang of it. Hopefully I'll be better with the next one we do. I just hope this works after the Matthews have spent so much money buying me supplies."

Art sat quietly watching as she finished the sketch. Handing it to him, she smiled, "You're easy to draw. Hope you like it."

Art stared in awe at the sketch, wondering how someone so young could have so much talent. "This is perfect. I'm going to frame it. Thank you."

As soon as Art left, Hope stretched out on the couch, the mental fatigue from the tension having drained her energy. In minutes, she was soundly asleep.

As Art stepped into the hallway, he wasn't sure where he would find Sandra and Bobby, but decided to check the game room first in case they were still there. There was only the quiet murmur of voices as his eyes fell on the four females sitting near one of the corners of the big room, all facing each other. Their animated conversation chopped off as if a switch had been thrown when they saw him.

He didn't know why exactly, and maybe it was because of all the concentration over the last hour, but it hit him again that he had never been around so many women and girls who were so ... pretty. No, pretty isn't even close,  he thought. There isn't a one of them in this building who couldn't become a model. And from what I've seen, they're all smart. But his eyes locked on Sandra and Bobby. I don't know why they fell for me, but I'm damn sure not going to look that proverbial gift horse in the mouth. They love me and I love them. That's all that matters. Jeff says it's because I'm an Alpha and they're meant for me.

I don't know how this is going to work out, though. How will I ever be any use to the agency with that group trying to kill me? I can't risk those two sitting over there. What am I going to do?

As he neared the group, "Well, Good Looking, how did it go?" Bobby asked.

"Really well," he answered as Bobby stood, motioned for him to sit, then sat in his lap.

Sandra leaned over for a brief kiss.

Holding the sketch up, Art said, "Look. This is one of the bosses. Trust me; this is him. Anyone could recognize him from this."

"And the other sketch?" Sandra asked, then added, "Oh, wow," as he held the sketch so they could see it.

"I'm going to frame this. She'll be famous one day, and I have one of her first sketches, although it's an insult to even call this a sketch."

They chatted for a few minutes, then, "I'm going to find Jeff."

"He's in his basement office next to his lab," Arlene and Ann said together.

The two girls looked at each other and blushed for some reason. Ann continued, "We always know where he is, and your women will know where you are, too. Probably not long after your wedding night."

Art stood, leaned over and brushed his lips across those of his women, then started for the door.

"Art?" Arlene called out.

"Yeah," he said, stopping to glance back.

"Knock before you go in."

He started to tell her he would have done that without them telling him to do it, but shrugged and said, "Sure."

A few moments later, just as he got to Jeff's office, the door opened and Nat, Nicki and Whitney, giggling, came out. "Hey Art," they said in perfect unison, their faces flushed.

Whitney continued, "Go on in, he's expecting you," she said, holding the door open for him.

As soon as he stepped into the room, he smelled air freshener with a hint of sex mixed in. Jeff was sitting on the couch and motioned toward a chair nearby.

Art pondered, If I've interrupted their sex, he doesn't show it. The girls were giggling, but all of the women here laugh, chuckle or giggle a lot. Heck, everyone here seems to be in a good mood just about all the time.

"Jeff, if I..."

"You didn't." There was a slight hesitation, then with a grin, "Several of my wives are young, and the others are made young. We enjoy an active sex life, as will you and your women come Monday night. If you were an outsider, I would be embarrassed, but you're a brother Alpha. Other than my wives, what's mine is yours, and I have nothing that is secret from you, although there are many things we have not, as yet, discussed.

"Coffee in the carafe there," he said, motioning, "and soft drinks in the fridge. Why don't you let me look at what you have in your hand while you serve yourself?"

Art handed Jeff the sketches, only to hear a quiet, "Shit," from Jeff a second later.

As Art sat back down with a cup of coffee, Jeff continued, "Hope is going to get a job offer as soon as Whatley sees this. He won't know who did it, of course, but you can bet he'll want to know. Damn, she's good."

Art blew gently on his hot coffee, took a sip and looked at Jeff. "It was stressful. Probably even more so with her than with me. But that's him. Everything about him that I can remember. Even that faint blemish on his left cheek."

"You have a good memory."

"I was blessed with that, and the FBI taught me how to look at a person and really notice them. Then Helen's idea about the self-hypnosis went a long way toward bringing the full memory back, but the real talent is that pretty girl upstairs. She's a genius in her own right."

"And she's gone through hell," Jeff interrupted. "At least that slaver did one thing right when he blew her father's brains out. Saved me the trouble of doing it. Anyone who would do what he did to his daughter does not deserve to breathe air."

Startled, Art realized he could feel Jeff's anger. But the anger washed from Jeff's face as he smiled at the young agent and held up the sketch of Art. "I see that she drew you, too,"

"I'm going to frame it."

Jeff chuckled. "I'm going to frame mine, too. Diana ordered a couple extra frames and matting. You can have one of them if you wish."

"That would be great. Thanks."

The two sat quietly thinking with Art occasionally taking a sip of coffee. Then, "Uh, how am I going to get this to Whatley?"

Jeff's eyes regained their focus, "Oh, sorry. I should have told you. We'll scan it there," he said pointing to the scanner in the corner, "and I'll give the file to my Security to send to the General. He'll get it to Whatley. Whitworth has access to technology that the rest of the nation can only dream about. There's absolutely zero chance the sketch can be tracked back here, and anyone who tried would get a rude awakening when their system was attacked by a very vicious virus."

MIDVILLE, WYOMING

Lunch over, the women cleaned up while Bill and Luther sat in the living room chatting. After swapping an abbreviated version of their lives, a short silence ensued, then, "Could I have a look at your church? The women seem to be enjoying themselves very nicely."

"What? Oh, sure, I'll be glad to show it to you, but you have to remember, it's just a small-town church in a very poor community. We don't even have carpet on the floors. The church was already here when I decided to make my home in this area. When the old pastor died, I was asked to assume his duties, and I've been the pastor ever since."

Luther and Bill passed through the kitchen on their way out. Megan and Bill's women had moved to the master bedroom and were involved in a quiet discussion. "Honey, we're going over to the church for a little while," Luther called out.

"Okay. We'll be here when you get back," his wife answered, raising her voice so he could easily hear.

A few minutes later, the men pulled into the church lot. This lot, like the one at the trunk or treat, was gravel, the cost of pavement being well out of the range of the small church's budget.

Bill followed the preacher up the front steps where he opened the door without using a key. "Nothing much to steal in here," Luther said, apparently realizing what Bill must be thinking about the door being left unlocked. "Our sound system is so outdated no self-respecting burglar would bother with it. Besides, the Sheriff is a member of our congregation and knows where the few ne'er-do-wells we have around here live."

"What about the police?"

"Don't have any. Once the Interstate was built and the big outfits moved away, the town couldn't support a police force anymore. Big crime around here is an occasional fistfight, or maybe a drunk driver," he finished, chuckling.

"I can't imagine not worrying about thefts."

Luther let out a derisive chuckle as they stopped in the vestibule. "Oh, there's an occasional petty theft here in the town, of course, but you've got to keep in mind how we're situated. It's just this small town — admittedly once populated by many more people — stuck in the middle of nowhere. All the surrounding area is farms and ranches — mostly ranches. Stealing from those farmers and ranchers is taking away their livelihood. A livelihood hard-won and barely sufficient to keep them going. Guess what that farmer or rancher is going to do when he finds a thief stealing his cattle or farm machinery at three o'clock in the morning, twenty miles from nowhere? All these people have tractors that are quite capable of digging big holes in the ground. Over the years there has been more than one case of a thief suddenly gone missing. I suspect the Sheriff doesn't look too hard, and even if he did, he wouldn't find anything, and you can bet he would never get reelected.

"Gunshot in the middle of the night? Probably not all that uncommon. Probably just some rancher taking down a coyote that had been killing his calves. Then again, his neighbors would suddenly go deaf should the Sheriff come out asking if they had heard anything."

The vestibule was little more than a mud room used to provide a double set of doors to help keep the cold out of the sanctuary when people were going in or out of the church. The outside could use a coat of paint; some of it was even peeling. The inside, as they stepped through the doors, had a wainscoting of unstained but varnished wood throughout with painted drywall above it. The painted areas were faded, and the wainscoting needed a new coat of varnish.

The floors were hardwood that badly needed sanding and refinishing — or a carpet put over them. The sanctuary had a slight slope toward the front, which was nice, though. The pews were obviously old and had no pads, but were in good repair as far as Bill could determine without being too obvious with his inspection. The windows were old and badly out of date. The piano definitely needed to be replaced. The sound system, like the preacher said, wasn't worth stealing.

Luther interrupted Bill's musing with, "We have somewhere around a hundred people here on Sunday mornings; less on Sunday nights. Twenty or so show up for Bible study on Wednesday ni

hts. Most of my congregation is struggling, even more so now with our economy like it is. If you're used to big city churches, this is obviously ... quite different."

Luther gave Bill a tour of the Sunday school rooms, finishing with the pastor's study. Everything was functional, but just barely. Bill, not wanting to be obvious, didn't ask to see the heating and air conditioning unit. They wound up sitting in the pastor's bare-bones study.

Pastor Luther Cambridge looked over with a half smile, "What's this all about, Bill? We've had that group of people, who claim they work for that Mr. Wainwright who came in with you, snooping around the town asking questions. They've talked to a lot of folks during the last couple of weeks. Then you come in here with this ... billionaire. And yeah, we're out in the sticks here, but we aren't stupid. I imagine that a lot of people have been on the Internet trying to find out what's going on. Oh, they've been told that Mr. Wainwright of Wainwright Inc. is thinking about starting up some type of industry and giving us all jobs. I don't know whether I believe that or not, and even if it's true, I'm not sure what that will do to our little town. Of course, the town is just about dead, anyway. But many people like Wainwright have gotten rich by walking on other people..."

"He hasn't," Bill injected before he could stop himself. "Anyone who has ever done business with him will tell you he's fair, and anyone who has personally worked for him, like I have, will tell you he has integrity. He won't take advantage of anyone here. Look, the man owns or owns controlling interest in many companies. If he says he can put this town back on its feet, then it's the truth. And besides that, this whole thing is all about what you and your wife did for Jill, anyway."

"Jill? But all we did is give her a place to rest up and a little money. Why would he..."

"He's doing it because he and I are ... friends. Much more than friends." Then realizing what he said could be taken another way, "No. No. Nothing like that. Just think of us as brothers. Oh, crap. This isn't coming out right. He wants to help you by helping your town. He'll wind up making money. He always does. He has a gift for that, but your town and your people here will prosper, too. He has a touch, a Midas touch, if you will.

"Look, he's tried to tell me how he does things, but all I really know is that he always manages to hire good — no, excellent — managers. And these people seem to have a knack for hiring good people. They in turn hire good people. It has expanded into a network of companies with his philosophy. He pays more than other companies, treats his employees like family, and demands that his managers do the same. It almost seems like the more he shares with his employees, the more money he makes. We'll eat together tonight, and he wants to talk to you afterward. I think you'll be pleased with his plans."

The men sat in silence for a time, both wondering what to say. Finally, Bill sighed, "I know that all this sounds like ... some sort of scam. But, as God as my witness, it's not. You and I are here today for a reason, though. Fact is, I haven't the foggiest notion how to tell you about it — let alone ask you what I need to."

Pastor Cambridge sat back to stare at Bill. "Well, if all else fails, just blurt it out," he chuckled.

Bill let out a soft sigh of resignation. "I ... thought about coming here to ... bribe you..."

Luther burst out laughing. "Bribe a preacher? And what could I possibly have or do that a bribe would be needed for, anyway?"

"Well, it's not something I wanted to take from you. Oh, crap. I'll just say it. Jill, Kathy and I want to give you the vacation that Jill overheard you and your wife talking about. She understood that the five hundred dollars you gave her was almost all of what was left of your savings for the vacation you never managed to take. You saved my wife's life...

"Oh, we helped some, we didn't..."

"She would have died. I can't tell you the details about how I know, but she would have died in a few days, at most." Before the preacher could say anything else, Bill went hurriedly on. "You fed her, gave her a place to rest and had her car repaired, then ... you gave her almost all your savings. From what she overheard, savings that you and your wife had struggled to accumulate over the years."

"Mr. Madison..."

"Bill, please."

"Bill, our vacation was just a dream. In better times, we put some money aside. There was a big storm, and after that, times got hard and people needed that money. We had it to give and we received a blessing when we did. That's just part of being a preacher in a poor area. And you want to... 'bribe' me to take a vacation?" At Bill's nod, Luther chuckled, "With what? What could you possibly 'bribe' me with?"

"By repairing your church. New pews, new piano, new sound system, a new central heat and air unit, carpet, revamping the whole church."

Luther sat looking at him, desperately trying to think of something intelligent to say. "Uh, let me get this straight. You want to 'bribe' me to take a vacation ... And the 'bribe' is to repair my church?"

"Yeah, for a vacation to Hawaii. Isn't that where you wanted to go? If not, anywhere. Anywhere in the world at all."

"And you're going to 'bribe' me by, uh, fixing up my church?" Cambridge put his hands behind his head and leaned back with a chuckle that threatened to gain in volume. Manfully, he choked it off, not wanting to insult his visitor.

Bill, frustrated, "Oh, crap. I know it sounds stupid. Truth is, I'm desperate. I have to do something for the people who saved my wife's life. You have no idea what that bastard, that ... Ingles, did to her. She was dying. I'm not exaggerating. She was. Another couple of days and she would never have made the trip. When I say you saved her life, I mean that literally. Please take the vacation. To wherever you want. All expenses paid, of course. Look, I have the money, and Mr. Wainwright says I can use his jet to take you wherever you want to go. I'll give you a couple of thousand dollars for spending money and a credit card to buy anything you want — anything.

"She was drugged and hypnotized by a doctor by the name of Ingles. She was going to be sold to slavers. They would probably have eventually quit giving her the drugs and she would have died, since once started, the drugs can't be stopped."

"She's still on them then?"

"No. No, she's not. And I can't tell you anything about her ... recuperation. Please, just know that she's in perfect health now and all that is behind her. But ... I have to do something in return. I have to. Please don't tell me no."

Bill stood to take his billfold out of a hip pocket. Sitting again, he took out a check already made out to Cambridge's church. "All right. I give up on the 'bribe.' It was a stupid idea, anyway. The money is real though, and to be spent any way you want, although I would prefer it if you would spend it on this building. But in all sincerity, if you don't take the vacation that my mates and I are offering, we'll be very disappointed. Can you get off from work for a couple of weeks?"

Cambridge, his mind still stuck on the one hundred thousand dollar amount on the check, struggled to bring his focus back to Bill's words. "I ... don't know. We get a week a year, and I haven't taken my week yet. I have no idea whether Vernon will let me off for two weeks or not. The second week would be without pay, anyway."

"I'll cover that week. No problem there."

"If I take that second week, I might not have a job when I come back. I can't take that risk."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Bill said, mysteriously.

Cambridge was shaking his head. "I need to talk with my wife. She's been an equal partner throughout our marriage. Oh, this money for the church is welcome and I sincerely thank you for it, but as far as the vacation is concerned, well, we've never accepted charity before, and I certainly can't accept a vacation like you envision without discussing it with her, and ... praying about it, also."

Bill sighed. "Look, the money for the church is there, contingent on nothing, whatever you two decide about the vacation. The 'bribe' was just desperation. But, please consider the vacation. Please. I've got the money. God has been good to us, too. I really, really need to share my good fortune. Part of that good fortune is your having helped my wife get back to me."

Luther folded the check in half and put it in his shirt pocket, then stood. "Let's go on back to the house; I need to let all this soak in for a while. I'll print you a receipt for your donation to the church when we get home, but you'll have to wait about our decision on the vacation."

As they walked out of the church, they stopped near the preacher's car for a moment. "You sure about what this Wainwright person is doing here? He's really here because of what we did for Jill?"

Bill turned to look the preacher in the eye. "Yeah. He thinks he can 'jump start' your little town. He already has an attorney and an accountant here, along with his 'idea' people. I have no real notion what they'll wind up with, but I know they've discussed starting up a number of small businesses — plants that will hire a few people at a time. I heard him mention one idea: a business that would rebuild brake pads for vehicles, along with rebuilding alternators and small industrial electric motors. If he should try to open a large factory, there would be no one to operate it. It has to be a gradual thing to attract workers to the area. Once word gets out that there are jobs and housing here, people will come. His intention is to expand slowly. He says he expects to lose money for the first five years, but one day this will be a thriving town again."



-------

Chapter 158

THE RETREAT

Jeremy, Denise and Connie were tired. Their bodies were in excellent shape because of their work, but negotiating the rough terrain by snowmobile had stressed muscles they weren't accustomed to using. Jennie and Melissa were good, and it showed. After riding both loops, most of the tension was gone and Denise and Connie were far more confident of their new abilities.

Jeremy had been impressed with the young wives' safety lecture, and once they had stopped to remind Denise to keep a safe distance behind the snowmobile in front of her. "Our husband was serious about bringing you back in one piece," Melissa had said, "and we don't want to make him mad at us."

"Does he get mad often?" Connie had blurted before she could stop herself.

Both wives laughed. "He never gets mad at us, but we would hate to see a look of disappointment on his face."

Jennie and Melissa were not accustomed to leadership. They generally followed Arlene's lead when it came to things like snowmobiling, skiing, or major decisions when Diana or Jeff weren't around. Arlene had laid out the routes originally, and always pushed the other young wives to do their best in anything they tried. If something happened, they could always reach Jeff with their radios, and they knew that Security would be monitoring them too, but they were still a little uncomfortable having guests that weren't accustomed to snowmobiles, particularly in the rough areas.

The shorter of the two trails was easy, but the longer one was more challenging. By the time they had finished the shorter trail, Denise and Connie had gained some experience. After gassing up again, they had started on the long trail feeling a lot more confident.

Late afternoon found them back at the outside garage. "Don't we clean up the snowmobiles before we put them away?" Jeremy asked when he saw the steam cleaning equipment and the other pristine snowmobiles parked in their area.

"Melissa and I will do that after supper," Jennie started, but the three construction workers were all shaking their heads.

"When we're through using them, we always clean our tools and put them back where they're supposed to be," Jeremy said. "We're already dressed for the cold. Now is as good a time as any."

Jennie and Melissa looked at each other and grinned.

-------

Sheriff Tate and his women had returned from Denver, as had Fred and his soon-to-be wives. After Jennie, Melissa and the construction workers came back from storing their cold weather gear, they stopped by the living room. The two young wives walked over to tell their husband they were back from their ride. "Everybody is still in one piece," Jennie said with a little giggle just before she leaned over to kiss Jeff hello.

"We had a great time," Connie said as she watched Melissa take her turn with Jeff.

Shortly, "Come on," Jennie and Melissa chorused.

"Let's go fix our men..." Jennie started.

" ... something to eat," Melissa finished.

Melissa grabbed Connie's hand and Jennie took Denise's. The kitchen was a hubbub of laughter and activity as they entered. Diana raised her voice so they could hear her from the other end of the big room. "How was your ride?"

"Great," Connie and Denise answered, then looked at each other and laughed. Both knew their unison speech was an accident, but before they could say anything further, Jennie suddenly spoke up.

"Once you mate with your Alpha, and another thing or two happens, you two will be doing that just like the rest of us — and not just accidentally, either."

"Then that wasn't an accident in the living room?"

"We can do it anytime we wish," the two said in perfect unison.

As Diana walked over, she joined in with a short cycle of chain-speak to prove their comments.

"Sit," Diana said, motioning to the table area.

"But we came in to help," Denise objected.

"You're guests. Guests don't have to cook," she said as they seated themselves. "Besides, there is a more than a sufficient number of women to finish our meal without taking advantage of our guests."

"But..." Connie started.

"The rest are family, and I expect you will be soon, now that we know your man is an Alpha."

"Family?" Denise questioned.

"We'll discuss that in the morning," Diana added, mysteriously, to the accompaniment of chopped-off giggles from Jennie and Melissa who were thinking about Jeff and Little One's late-night visit to come. "Now tell me about your ride."

-------

In the living room, Sheriff Tate and Fred were comparing notes. "I'm beginning to think we've been set up," Tate said to Fred.

"Yeah, I agree. Granted, it's been a very long time since I bought a wedding dress, but I was expecting a much harder hit. I even questioned the lady about the prices, but she said that she had given us a discount because of Diana's frequent business with her, and also because of all the business that Diana and Wainwright had brought her. She said she had wealthy people flying in from all over the country to buy wedding dresses from her. She seemed to be telling mostly the truth, but her comments about the discount set me to wondering. I don't think a simple ten or fifteen percent discount would account for the price."

Tate frowned. "She said that Diana was the reason her business has expanded so much, but still..."

"Yeah," Fred agreed, "'Still.'"

Both men turned to Jeff, but he held his hands palms out, shaking his head, "Diana looks the bills over, approves them, and the accountant pays them." Which was technically true. But Jeff also knew that his Queen had called the dress shop and the jewelry store long before the two Alphas and their women had gotten to Denver. Anything they had bought at either place had already been discounted seventy percent with Diana picking up the difference, after giving strict instructions to not let Fred, Quinton or their women know about the additional discount.

However, both Quinton and Fred were the equivalent of walking lie detectors. Not even Jeff could lie to them. He might not have lied, per se, but he had lied by omission. Their bullshit detectors went off. "Don't start," the Prime said when he saw the looks on their faces. "If you have a gripe, take it up with my Queen. I didn't have anything to do with it."

"But you knew about it," Fred insisted.

"After the fact," Jeff said, stressing the word.

"Yeah, that's obviously the truth," Fred said, "but..."

"Like I said, take it up with Diana. I'm not into this."

"Yeah. As if we would," Tate said with a grimace.

"One little Queen against two big husky men. You two are definitely outmatched," Jeff teased. "Tell her thank you. That's what I would do," he said with a laugh. "Trust me, that's a hell of a lot safer."

"I still don't..."

"As I said, take it up with my Queen."

"Think it will snow tonight?" Tate said.

"Supposed to," Jeff returned with a grin.

SEVERAL HUNDRED MILES AWAY — MIDVILLE, WYOMING

When Pastor Luther Cambridge and Captain Bill Madison walked into the house after returning from their visit to the church, they met the women in the living room. It was apparent from the look on Megan's face that Jill and Kathy had told her about the proposed vacation. She stood and hugged her husband. "We need to talk."

"I know. Bill told me, too."

At a look from Bill, Kathy and Jill stood. "You two need some time alone," Bill said to Luther. "We're going to ride around for a while and look the area over. We have a map and there's a GPS in the SUV, so we'll be fine."

"We were going to give you the nickel tour," Megan injected.

"We would love for you to do that, but let's put it off until tomorrow. Keep in mind that you don't have to make your decision about the vacation now, but I really hope you don't put it off too long. We aren't lying, and we aren't after anything from you. We just want you to go on that vacation you've thought about for years. If you need to talk to us, you can reach us on my cell."

Bill gave them the number and Megan wrote it down. "We finally got a cell tower, but a few miles out of town and you're out of luck."

"We'll be back before six," Bill said as they walked out.

In their SUV, the three slowly cruised down Main Street. "Looks like this was probably the main highway before the Interstate came through."

"That's what Megan said," Jill agreed.

When they reached the outskirts on the other side of town, they turned back, then took the first street to the right. "Looks like the place consists of one main street with one other street paralleling on either side a block over, plus the cross streets," Bill commented. They went on down a short block of the cross street, then turned to parallel the main road. They passed several deserted businesses, some recognizable by faded signs, others not. Most of the buildings had roofs that had withstood the passage of time, while some of the older, abandoned buildings had leaked and the roofs had eventually fallen in or were in the process of doing so. Still, there were a number of buildings that could probably be salvaged, and also a small number of businesses that survived and remained open.

The main highway was paved, but the side streets, as in many small western towns, were not. Still, there was evidence of a once-booming small town. They rode down the parallel street until the edge of town, then crossed over the main highway, reversing their direction to take the parallel street on the other side of the highway. They eased down the street at a snail's pace, meeting only one farm truck as it left a large building with a fading sign that proclaimed it to be Collier's Feed and Grain.

They found a small drugstore still in business, but the laundromat next door had not been as fortunate. Bill turned into the lot anyway, stopping near the building where he got out. Curious, the women exited the vehicle with him. The front windows were covered in dust and grime, but he wiped a place with his hand to better see into the darkened interior.

"The machines are still in there, but the place looks like it has been closed for years," he said. "In a big city, the windows would probably have been broken out or boarded up, and the machines stolen long ago."

Back in the SUV, they continued their tour and discovered a small Mom-and-Pop type grocery store a couple of blocks on down the street. It was open and appeared to be doing a good business. Bill turned into the lot and parked near the entrance. "Let's go get something to drink," he said, shutting the engine off.

Smiling, the women got out and followed him to the door. As he reached to open the door for them, an elderly man stepped out and held the door. They thanked him, then turned to watch as he put his small purchase in his pickup, a 1980 Ford F150. Bill stood in the doorway to listen as the man started the pickup and drove off.

"I wonder how many times that motor has been rebuilt," the pilot mused. "Whoever did it must have known what he was doing. I could barely hear it run."

Inside the store, there were two registers, both staffed with women over fifty. On the side of the store just to the left of the registers was a raised, half-walled office occupied by a woman using a computer. They assumed she was the owner or manager. Both clerks greeted them as they turned right near the registers to walk down the first aisle.

"And you're suddenly thirsty?" Kathy said.

Bill chuckled. "Oh, I could use something to drink, I guess, but I'm more curious than thirsty."

They spent the next ten minutes just walking through the store. Finally, Jill touched her husband's arm to stop him. "Notice anything?"

"Well, we've been asked twice if we needed help finding anything," Bill answered.

"Yeah, that too, but notice the stock. There is almost no choice between brands, like you would have in a large grocery store, but aside from brand choice, they have just about everything you could need, unless you get into something exotic. Whoever chose the stock was smart."

"And they're still open while the two other grocery stores we saw were closed. Improvise, adapt and overcome. Somebody did just that."

Back in their vehicle a few minutes later, they sipped their drinks as they meandered on down the gravel street. Bill touched his brakes and turned to pass an old dog that walked down the street in front of them, refusing to move aside. "He wouldn't last five minutes in a city," Bill chuckled as he finished off his first candy bar.

"That must be the restaurant up ahead," Kathy, who was sitting in the second seat, said, as she leaned between the seats to point.

Bill turned into the lot and stopped.

"Hey, isn't that faded green pickup by the front door the one with the old man from the store?" Kathy asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "But how did this place stay open when the two others on the main road closed? You would think that at least one of them would have made it, rather than this one back here."

"So let's go have a cup of coffee and ask," the pilot said as he parked near the pickup.

"But we each have a drink in our hands," Jill started, then stopped. "Okayyyy, let's go have a cup of coffee," she said with a giggle.

Since it was between meals, there were only a few customers in the restaurant. A small sign near the entrance read, "PLEASE SEAT YOURSELF." The sign could obviously be turned over to read, "PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED."

The elderly man from the grocery store was sitting at a table toward the back of the dining area, a cup of coffee and a half-eaten piece of pie in front of him. As they stopped at a table, he called out, "Come on back. There's plenty of room here."

"Pardon?" Bill said.

"Well, you followed me from the grocery store. I figured you wanted to ask some questions. Might as well cut to the chase. You're part of the bunch that came in on the helicopter this morning, ain't you?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"City folks been asking questions for a couple of weeks. You might as well get yours done now. Save you driving ten miles down the road to where I live."

Bill looked at his women and grinned. "Shall we, Ladies?"

"I like him," Kathy whispered.

"Me, too," Jill said, stifling a giggle.

A couple of steps later, Bill held a chair first for Kathy, then Jill.

"Ah, a gentleman, as my Momma used to say. Don't see that near as much these days. Excuse me for not getting up, old Arthur has slowed me down the last few years."

"Arthur?" Jill said without thinking.

"Arthritis. Name's Raymond Elks," he admitted, sticking out his hand. "Just call me Ray."

"I'm Bill Madison." As Bill shook the proffered hand, he hesitated for an instant, then making up his mind, continued, "These are my wives, Kathy and Jill," he finished, indicating each woman as he called their names.

"You folks Mormon?"

Bill chuckled. "No. I'm just lucky," he said, scooting his chair up.

"Well if good looks has anything to do with it, I'd have to agree with you about being lucky. Glad to meet all of you."

The women blushed, at a loss for something to say. The waitress, a slightly heavyset woman in her fifties, came over. "Coffee for the three of us," Bill said, ordering for them. "And you, Sir?"

"I'm fine with what I've got. Thanks."

The waitress chuckled as she topped up Elks' coffee. "Ray never has to order. I know what he wants. Mid afternoon, he always has apple pie and coffee."

As the waitress walked away, Elks looked back at Bill. "The coffee is a good choice, and their pies are baked fresh every day. She always starts a new pot when she sees me pull up. She knows I hate old coffee."

Coffee in front of them a couple of minutes later and the waitress gone, Elks said, "Okay, fire away. I ain't got anything but time. They put me out to pasture a few years back, and my son runs the farm now. Busy day for me is to ride into town to pick up a bag of snacks and stop by for a cup of Millie's good coffee. I would never tell her, but my daughter-in-law can't make coffee worth a crap. Course it sure makes me appreciate Millie's."

"We really didn't come in here to ask you questions," Bill started.

"You come in on that copter this morning, didn't you? Come with that rich guy who owns all those companies; the one the rest of them folks bin steppin' and fetchin' for the last two weeks?"

Jill and Kathy were both about to strangle as they fought to hold back laughter.

"Well, ain't they?" the old man asked.

"Yeah," Bill said, wondering if there was anything faster than a rumor mill, then, "I guess you could call it that. But there are a couple of them who have a string of letters behind their names who might debate your description of their jobs. But I'll bet that Frank will get a kick out of it, however."

"And this 'Frank?"'

"Mr. Wainwright. The one they're all 'steppin and fetchin' for."

"He's one of the nicest men I've ever known," Jill added.

"So what are you folks doing? Just asking questions like the others?"

Bill thought that was funny, since he hadn't asked any questions, mainly because he couldn't get a word in to do so.

"No, we weren't sent here to ask questions. We'll leave that to the people who know what to ask. We've just been visiting with Pastor Cambridge and Megan. I assume you know them."

"Cambridge? Sure. Everybody hereabouts knows Brother Cambridge. A good man, and Megan's a good woman — a good wife. Ain't nobody ever seen no man lurking about their house while Cambridge is off working at that grocery store. Both of them would give you the shirt off their backs.

"How did you folks get to know Brother Cambridge?"

"Uh, Jill came through a while back and had some car trouble. They helped her."

"They've helped a lot of folks; me included. I've set in that church most every Sunday since I was a young man. Me and Christene, too, back when she was alive. We started there way before Cambridge come here. But he's different. His ain't just put-on; he's a good man to the core. You folks going to be in church tomorrow?"

"Uh," Bill said, stalling. "We really didn't bring church clothes with us." Almost before he was finished, Bill felt Kathy whack his shin with her foot.

"'Didn't bring church clothes?"' Elks repeated. "What's the matter with what you got on? Only time you'll see a suit around here, other than that bunch come in a couple of weeks ago, is at a funeral. Even then, there ain't many people got 'em anymore. Most wore out a long time ago after our town quit prosperin'. Shirt and tie is dresswear. Ladies wear a nice dress or pants with a good blouse. Easter Sunday, you wear the best you got. With most of us, you can't much tell the difference," he finished with a chuckle.

Jill and Kathy glanced at each other, then Kathy turned to Raymond. "Mr. Elks, may we sit with you at church tomorrow?"

"Third pew from the back, center aisle. My son and his wife set in the choir, and the kids set with their friends. Plenty of room for you folks. Sunday school is at nine-thirty, if you decide to come for that. Church service starts at a quarter to eleven. I'll be expecting you."

They finished their coffee, said their goodbyes, and Bill left a generous tip on the table. At the register, he paid their tab and Elk's.

Outside, Bill pressed the remote to unlock the SUV's doors. "You two really want to go to church tomorrow?"

Jill stood looking up at her husband. "I want to hear the man preach who took me in, even though he and Megan probably thought that I was a whore. I suspect they also thought I had AIDS. Heck, I thought I had AIDS, and ... I may have. You told us about Ingles' interrogation and said that he thought I would die without the continued use of the drugs he had me on. We all know I was barely functioning when I got to the Retreat."

There was suddenly the sparkle of unshed tears in the gorgeous woman's eyes, her emotion causing her nipples to extend, noticeable even through her bra. "When Luther found me, my car had a hole in the bottom radiator hose, and a hole in the oil pan. At least that's what Luther told me, and I believe him. I had no money and I was sick. They took me in, found clothes for me, fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and fixed my car, then gave me money to go find the Retreat. I owe those two people my life. Besides, I strongly doubt they'll take that vacation from us if we don't show up in Luther's church tomorrow."

Bill looked at her for a second. "Crap. I hadn't even thought of the church thing. And ... there's something else, now that you mentioned the church. I wonder if he has someone to take over for him while he goes on vacation. Now that we're getting more background on him, I can't imagine that he and his wife would just take off and leave the church without someone to fill in for him."

They returned to the SUV and started on down the street, this time with Kathy in the front with Bill. Shortly, they stopped in the lot of a real estate office. A sign on the side of the lot showed that there had once been three businesses in the small office building: the real estate office, an attorney, and another business, but something had broken off part of the wooden sign, leaving only a few letters of the other business' name.

The odd thing about the small office building was that the windows were sparkling clean. Bill got out, walked to the front door, cupping his hands as he tried to look into the mostly darkened interior. After a couple of minutes, he returned to the vehicle.

"There's a reception desk in the front lobby, with a hall on either side leading off toward the back of the building, but there's no dust or dirt that I could see. I just didn't expect a real estate business to survive around here. Each of the hallways have a light on, so I guess at least one of the companies is still functioning. I'm just assuming it's the real estate office that survived. I can't really tell."

They slowly drove the rest of the way through the town, then turned to get on the main highway, eventually taking the first road past the town as it turned away from the direction of the Interstate. A few miles later, on a little hill overlooking a pasture, Bill pulled off on the side of the road and stopped.

"That's something you don't often see," he said, nodding toward the scene unfolding a few hundred yards away and slightly below them. They got out to lean against the front of the SUV and watch the scene in the distance.

A rancher sat astride a cutting horse as he herded about forty yearlings toward a lot beside a long barn. The cattle appeared to be about two-thirds grown. Three black and white Border Collies swept back and forth to assist their master and the horse. As the trio watched, one of the yearlings, a young bull, broke from the herd and dashed away, hell bent for leather. The nearest collie streaked after him. The original chase was short, the dog easily catching up to the bull's fastest speed.

As the Border Collie swerved toward the bull's front feet, the animal whirled and charged the dog. And instant before there was contact, the dog seemed to slip sideways, reaching in to nip at the heels of the young bull as the dog darted past. The bull kicked out viciously, his heels narrowly missing the streaking dog. The bull bucked, kicked and pawed, spinning in place trying to kill the dog — the bull's flying hooves easily capable of doing just that.

If the dog was barking, Bill and his women couldn't hear it because of the distance. "He's going to kill the dog," Jill worried aloud.

Suddenly, one of the other dogs broke from his position with the herd and streaked toward the lone dog. The young bull put his head down and tried to butt the original dog, but the collie flashed in and the bull jerked his head back.

"Oh, I'll bet that smarts," Bill laughed. "Nothing like getting bit on your nose."

The second collie arrived, circling the raging young bull, darting in to nip at his heels while the first dog nipped at his front feet. The struggle went on for several minutes. Suddenly, tiring, the fight went out of the bull. Head down, breathing heavily, he trotted toward the herd as the dogs dropped back to either side to guide him. Just before the yearling reached the herd, he attempted one more bolt for freedom, but the dogs flashed in, their fronts crouching low, and the bull thought better of his escape, turning to rejoin the herd. In short order, the rancher and the dogs had the yearlings in the lot.

"Do you suppose those dogs always have to work that hard?" Kathy asked.

Bill chuckled. "I read where cattle have to be 'dog broken.' Just a guess, but I suspect that particular bull is new to dogs and probably thought he was boss. Those Border Collies showed him he wasn't."

As they got back into their SUV, Bill continued. "Pretty much all I know about Border Collies comes from a friend of mine. He bought a pup for his son, then found out that a border collie without something to herd was a big problem. As the dog grew to adulthood, he constantly tore up things, wouldn't stay at home, and had started chasing cars. Carl learned about a family that was moving and were selling their ducks. He bought five ducks and a sack of feed. He had a small lake on his property and thought the ducks would be neat to watch.

"He went out to feed the collie the next morning, and all the ducks were in his back yard, apparently waiting to be fed. He said he still didn't realize what had happened, and just thought that the ducks were accustomed to being fed near the house of the people he had bought them from. This would save him having to walk down to the lake to feed them. After he fed them, he stood there amazed as the dog patiently herded the quacking ducks back to the lake. The collie took a drink and laid down to watch over the ducks. That was the end of his chasing — herding — cars. He had something else to herd now.

"The last time I talked to Carl, he had thirty ducks. He had not lost a duck to dogs or traffic, and he said the collie was very careful with the baby ducks, always protecting them, and still brought the whole bunch up morning and night to be fed."

"Can we go see them sometime?" Kathy asked.

"Sure. Next time we're in Saint Louis and have some spare time, I'll give him a call."

The pilot looked at his watch. "Guess we had better start back toward the pastor's house."

A few minutes later, they walked up on the porch of Cambridge's house and Megan swung the door wide for them. Since neither Megan nor Luther said anything about the vacation, Bill suspected they hadn't yet made a decision.

"Ready to go have dinner with Mr. Wainwright?" the pilot asked.



-------

Chapter 159

MIDVILLE, WYOMING

At six, Bill and his two wives walked into the restaurant with Luther and Megan. The sign now read, "PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED." But there was no wait. The waitress took one look at them and said, "Mr. Tingle told me to expect you. Right this way, please."

As they passed through the main dining area, Bill noted that only about a quarter of the tables were taken, even though it was a Saturday night in a town where there was almost nothing to do other than eat at the only restaurant. Bill had to smile at the waitress' comments about Tingle, even though Bill realized that Ray Tingle had been here for a couple of weeks to supervise the team, and Frank had only arrived this morning. Bill doubted if the room the waitress led them to had been used much in recent years; the private room was probably a sign of better times, long past. After Tingle, Luther and Megan had been introduced, they all sat at a large table in a room originally intended for parties.

"Not many people in the main dining area," Bill commented. "Suppose it's a little early?"

Cambridge shook his head. "No. There actually seems to be a few more customers than usual, even for the weekend." Then with a grin, "Some of them probably came to get a look at our big-city visitors. There isn't much else to do around here."

They didn't discuss business with the preacher and his wife in their midst, but Frank's demeanor was indicative of a plan satisfactorily coming together. Tingle did, however, very subtly question Luther and Megan about the town's history. Tingle also got up to follow when Bill went to the bathroom, stopping him in the hall for a short conference.

Later, as Bill, Jill and Kathy were leaving the restaurant, they walked past two men sitting at a table, both dressed as ranchers or cowboys. One of the men who was wearing a red shirt and jeans, his hat on the table beside his plate, looked up and his eyes locked on Jill. He had just lifted his iced tea to take a sip, but obviously forgot all about his drink. Bill had to choke back a laugh as the man steadily poured a thin stream of iced tea into his lap, without noticing what was happening.

Jill, accustomed to the reactions of men the first time — or the hundredth time — they saw her, seemed to pay no attention. Kathy was very pretty in jeans and a casual top, and beautiful when in an evening dress, but Jill was startlingly gorgeous in anything,  or nothing, for that matter. Jill had grown up with what she, at times, considered a curse. Males from the age of puberty on, and some women, did dumb things around her.

As they walked out the door, Bill gave up and burst into laughter. "Oh, shit. I wonder how long it will be before he notices his wet crotch? Good thing he wasn't drinking hot coffee."

"I hate it when men do things like that. It's as if they've never seen a woman before," Jill grumbled. "It's embarrassing."

Kathy had choked back giggles until they were out of the restaurant, but when Bill laughed, she did too. "He was staring at you and pouring tea all over himself while the other guy just watched him with his mouth hanging open. He didn't have a clue what was happening."

"It's not that funny," Jill complained as Bill opened the doors for his women. "The idiot poured tea in his lap while looking at my boobs. Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be for his wife, if she had been with him — or his girlfriend?"

Kathy paused as she started to get in. "I'll bet he'll pull over to the side of the road and jerk off thinking about you. If he's married, you can bet his wife is in for a good time tonight."

"Well, I think that men who act like that are ridiculous," Jill fumed.

Bill knew that Kathy was coming dangerously close to getting her feelings hurt. With the women safely inside the vehicle, he walked around to his door and got in. "Yeah, and that cowboy probably isn't going to be the only one. I'll bet Tingle will be jerking off when he gets back to the motel, unless he brought a girlfriend with him." Turning to speak directly to Kathy, "I strongly suspect it was the combination of the two of you, not just Jill. I know I almost tripped over my tongue the first time I met you, Kathy."

"Me?" Kathy said. "But you never did anything — not so much as even a glance at my breasts — and you stared me in the eyes while you talked to me."

"I was married, and loyal to my vows to Jill."

Jill turned to Kathy. "There is one wonderful thing that has happened to me — to Bill and me — because of Ingles. If I hadn't left Bill to go with that asshole, Ingles, you two would never have gotten together. For that reason alone, I would go through everything again, if necessary, to have you as my sister-wife. I love you, Kathy, and you're every bit as pretty as I am. And don't you ever let some idiot cowboy influence you otherwise."

Jill leaned over to hug Kathy and brush her lips against the other woman's for a second. Jill continued with, "My looks almost got me sent as a sex slave to who knows where, not to even mention what that bastard did to me at his house. I hate that men stare at me, and I don't want to think about that now. I just want to go to our motel and make love."

"That can be arranged," Bill said as he backed out of the parking space and left the lot. "Tingle gave me our room key. Can you believe it? It's an actual key; not a keycard. I hope this place isn't a dump, but the outside looked good when we drove by."

Jill sat in the second seat watching her sister-wife and worrying. What do I have that other women don't? she wondered for the thousandth time. My boobs and ass aren't any better than Kathy's, nor my face, but there is always someone leering at me like that guy in the restaurant. I know that had to have hurt Kathy's feelings. Bill did a good job of trying to smooth it over, but darn it, I can't understand why it happens. I actually think she's prettier than I am, yet there's always some asshole making a spectacle of himself while he stares at me. Kathy laughs with me at their foolishness, but I could see the hurt in her eyes when we got into the SUV. I've got to make her see that she is every bit as beautiful as I am, if not more so. Hmmmm. I wonder... 

A few blocks later on the main street, they pulled into the lot of an old-style motel, built in a "U" shape with outside corridors. Although the style was timeworn, the outside, at least, seemed to be well maintained, the paint was fairly new and the sidewalks, room windows and landings were clean.

"Two forty seven," Bill said, looking at the key he had taken from his pocket.

"Second floor, left side, all the way at the end," Kathy almost instantly replied.

"Sharp eyes there, Pilot," from Bill as he drove across the lot and parked near the stairway.

Kathy had felt a little bump from a slight adrenal surge when he called her, 'Pilot.' I've been a pilot long enough to get over the thrill, haven't I? she thought. Then again, not only am I a pilot, but I sit next to the sexiest guy in the world. And I'm sister-wife to someone who is so beautiful that cowboy poured tea on himself and didn't even notice. How did I ever get so lucky? But I wish I were a little prettier for Bill.

"Looks like most of the vehicles in the lot belong to our people," Bill noted. "Of course, this town isn't exactly a tourist attraction anymore, or a stopover for many weary travelers. With the town a mile from the Interstate, I suspect most people drive past and don't even know it's here."

Bill popped the hatch and they each grabbed a bag. The women stood beside the vehicle and conversed in whispers for a moment, but then quickly caught up with their husband as he stopped to wait for them at the foot of the stairs. When he opened the room door and they had stepped inside, Kathy, sounding relieved, said, "Bigger than I expected, and the carpet is nice."

The alcove they had stepped into had a large bathroom on the right with a shower stall separate to the tub, also a vanity area. There was a small refrigerator and a microwave, both far from new, but were clean, and as they discovered later, in good working order. The TV wasn't large, but at least it was a flat screen, and according to the channel guide, had a satellite connection. There were two comfortable chairs, a couch, a writing table and bedside tables for the king-sized bed. The furniture wasn't top-of-the-line, but it was far better than the cheap stuff often found in motels. A big window faced the rear toward a gravel lot and the unpaved back street beyond.

Both women did that contortion thing and pulled their bras out of their tops. "Oh, that feels good," they said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.

"The room is clean and smells nice. Not the Hyatt Regency," Kathy said, "but it's a whole lot better than I expected."

Bill admired her breasts, her nipples erect and poking against her top. "Tingle told me the place is owned and operated by a man and wife. They live in a suite attached to the check-in office and are open 24/7. She does the room bookings, check-ins, etc., and he does maintenance. He's done a good job with that, according to Tingle, at least to the rooms our group has used. The couple also has a young woman who cleans for them.

"With this being the only motel open in town, they're going to make some money while our group is here, and a whole lot more in the near future. They might even have to reopen the section on the other side if Frank decides to go with the ideas the team is presenting to him at their meeting tonight. Tingle says the room rates were already cheap, and the owners even gave our team a discount on top of that because of all the rooms we're using."

"Where are they going to have their meeting?" Jill wondered aloud.

"Remember the building we thought was a realty company? Tingle's crew managed to find the owner, rented the building and cleaned it up. It had only been vacant a year. It's Tingle's headquarters for the time being."

Jill pulled down the nice spread and the top sheet, then leaned over to smell. "Smells nice. I was afraid the bed would be musty." Turning back to Bill, she walked over and put her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his chest. "Why don't you get your shower first?" she suggested. "That's a nice-sized shower, but it's not big enough for all three of us to be in there comfortably."

"Hmmm," he responded. "I think it is big enough, but if we are all in there together, things will happen and it will take a lot longer to get you two into bed. I'll hurry."

When Jill dropped her arms from his neck, Kathy slid into place. "We have a surprise tonight. I ... uh, we hope you'll like it," she said mysteriously as both women began to blush.

Bill kissed her, wondering, then got out his shaving gear and toothbrush from his case. Shortly, he was in the shower.

Jill stepped over and lightly brushed her lips across Kathy's. "You are still game, right?"

Kathy smiled at her sister-wife, "Yeah. I guess I'm a little scared, but I'm all for it. With an Alpha's hearing, Bill probably heard some of what we were whispering. He's a man, and he'll expect something sexual." She suddenly looked worried. "What if he's not pleased, though — or worse?"

While they had been talking, the women had opened their cases and were getting out what they needed, putting some of their things in the vanity area.

Jill stopped to look at her sister-wife. "I haven't seen anything to indicate that he'll be turned off, but if he is, we'll just apologize and attack him. One of us can suck his cock while the other tries to strangle him with her boobs. When he gets his rocks off, we'll apologize again and try to fuck him to death. Standard procedure, hmmm?"

Kathy managed a soft giggle. "I hope you're right. But whatever the outcome, I ... think I'm going to enjoy it."

"Me, too," Jill said, both women blushing again. They hugged briefly. In the vanity area a moment later, they quietly whispered, "What about our heels and other stuff? If we leave them in here, he'll notice, and if we leave them in the bedroom, he'll see when we pick them up to bring them in here to put on. We don't want him to see us until we're ready."

"Here. In the back of the linen closet," Kathy quietly said, pulling the stack of towels forward a few inches as they heard Bill beginning to sing off-key in the shower.

Heels, garter belts, makeup, perfume and hose hidden, the two giggled and went back to the bedroom to wait for their husband.

The shower stopped, and a moment later, the women met a nude Bill in the vanity area as he began to shave. Giggling, they both smacked his ass as they walked by for their shower.

"Suuurrre you don't want to squeeze in here with us?" Kathy asked teasingly, drawing out the word.

Bill stood in front of the mirror, razor poised for a stroke across his lathered face as he looked at them in the mirror. "It's tempting, but that big bed will be a lot easier on all of us, and if I don't get my face smooth, you two will look like you've been in bed with a big chunk of sandpaper."

Giggling again, they went into the shower. As he shaved, he could hear snatches of conversation from time to time, and a lot of cut-off giggling. What in the heck are they planning? Both of them have seemed a little uptight since we got to the room. I first thought it was just the trip — now all the giggling. I'm really beginning to wonder.

He finished shaving, dried his face, rubbed a towel vigorously through his hair, then ran the dryer a couple of minutes so his hair would not dampen the pillow. Nude, he walked back into the bedroom, shaking his head so his hair would fall back into place. As he sat on the bed and picked up the TV remote, the door to the vanity area shut. From time to time, with his acute hearing, he heard snatches of quiet laughter and more of the cut-off giggling.

He watched a few minutes of the news and the weather. When he heard the women come out of the vanity area, he turned the TV off and turned to look.

Suddenly shy, his two mates stood side-by-side holding hands, their shoulders back as they proudly displayed their breasts. They had both used a little makeup — just enough to bring out their cheeks, lips and eyes. Each wore black spikes, hose and a garter belt — nothing else. Either their vulvas were flushed, or they had used some sort of blush on them, understated, but their nether lips were more obvious than normal, as were their protruding nipples.

He expected them to come to him, but they did not. Instead, they turned to each other and very tentatively kissed. Just barely touching their lips, over and over, their breasts pressing against their counterparts. Their kisses were tender — loving. Now and then, they would kiss each other more aggressively, their mouths obviously opening, but after a short moment, they returned to the gentle kissing.

Holding hands, refusing to look at him, they moved nearer the bed. Turning to each other again, they resumed their kissing, their mouths open just enough to be sensuous, while their hands softly caressed each other's arms. They closed the small gap between them, their arms now encircling the other person, their hands stroking the other's back, drawing circles on the smooth skin, their breasts pushing more firmly against those of the other woman's.

They seemed almost like one person — doubled. What one did, the other did at the same time. Gradually, their hands drifted downward to draw small, imaginary circles on the other's buttocks. After a while, the drawing of circles became gentle squeezes before they began to slide their hands up the other woman's sides.

The kisses were still gentle, but it was becoming evident that they were occasionally adding a tongue tip to their sensuous kissing. As their hands continued to climb their sides, they started a slow movement that caused their breasts to rub against those of the other woman, their now very prominent nipples dragging across the opposing breast, the nipples sometimes sliding across each other.

Bill lay watching — mesmerized. He had seen them kiss before, but never anything like this. In the past they had spent a little time gently squeezing or caressing each other's breasts while he stroked his cock into one or the other of them, but this was different — far different.

On the few times that their mouths were apart, he had caught their quick glances at him. Bill was far from being a dummy. He knew they were evaluating his response, so he let nature take its course. His cock was soon standing at attention, a drop of thick pre-come already on the tip of the bulbous head, the veins on his cock standing out as his pulse throbbed through. They took his erection as a go, their kisses becoming more lustful, a moan escaping now and then.

They broke their kiss, both flushed faces turning to him.

Kathy: "It's up to you, Love."

Jill: "Shall we continue?"

Somehow, it was difficult to tell who said what, but he knew he didn't want them to stop. "We're all married to each other," he got out through a suddenly tight throat. "No reason you two can't make love to each other."

When he realized that his wives were going to get on the bed, he quickly slid over, lying back, his cock bouncing as he moved about.

"Oh, that looks nice," they said in unison yet again. It was almost as if they were one.

Kathy leaned over to lick the drop of pre-come off the head of his cock while Jill pressed her lips to his, the taste of Kathy faintly detectable on them.

My ability to taste is far more sensitive than it used to be,  he thought, and so is my sense of smell and hearing. I've been smelling "willing female" for the last hour, so I don't think this was spontaneous, but I'm almost certain they've recently added to their plans for tonight.

When the women pulled back from him, he settled in to watch, not wanting to disturb them in any way. He reached down to slowly stroke his cock, again trying to show them he was pleased with what they were doing, should they look.

Jill encouraged Kathy to lie on her back, the gentle, sensuous kisses beginning again. First Jill leaned over Kathy from the side, then after a few moments, the older woman (not that Bill could see any difference in their ages after Little One had enhanced both of them) straddled the younger one's legs and leaned forward. With a smile, Jill propped herself on her forearms before lowering fully onto Kathy, breast to breast, mouth to mouth, pussy to pussy.

The smell of sexually hot women added to Bill's excitement as his cock tried to become even harder.

Kathy's legs spread apart and Jill pressed her mound against the young pilot's. Their breaths were audible now, and they squirmed their pussies together as their kisses became feverish. Jill raised her mouth slightly above Kathy's lips. Both women hissed in a breath and whined out an orgasm that continued for a long time.

After their gasping breaths settled, they resumed their tender kissing. As time drifted onward, they pulled apart and stared at him. After a giggle from each, Jill spun around, putting her face down to Kathy's groin.

"Oh, my goodness," Kathy squealed out as Jill blew on Kathy's lower lips.

Shortly, Jill hissed out, "Yes," as Kathy licked Jill's slit.

Both were already on a hair trigger from the excitement of doing this in front of their husband, and after having rubbed their mounds against each other with him looking on, their next orgasms were already building. As their excitement built, Jill, more able to see, turned her face a little to get a glimpse of Bill as he slowly stroked his cock. But just as her eyes focused on his cock, Kathy locked her lips around Jill's clit and gently sucked.

Jill's orgasm was hovering close, but just before she reached the point of no return, Kathy pulled back, waited a moment, then blew on her sister-wife's clit. Her breath across the wet clitoris caused chill bumps to pop on Jill's legs. She whined in frustration, then squealed as Kathy licked the older woman's most sensitive area. Just before Jill went off, Kathy pulled back again, then before Jill could protest, the young pilot repeatedly flicked her tongue across Jill's bud until the other woman exploded into orgasm.

Kathy giggled as Jill thrashed and squealed. When the orgasm was finally over, Jill lay languidly for a few moments, a goofy smile on her beautiful face. With a grin, she snaked her tongue out to lick down Kathy's slit, the touch feather-light.

"Ohhhh," Kathy hissed out.

Bill turned to his side, reached over and slid a hand along Jill's back to her buttocks, then under her to caress Kathy's right breast. He gently massaged it, then tweaked her nipple. He continued the caress as Jill began to suck and lick Kathy's clit in earnest. Kathy pulled her legs back to give her leverage to raise her pussy toward Jill's mouth, the younger woman's body becoming more and more tense as Jill took her sister-wife slowly toward orgasm.

As Kathy had done to her, Jill brought Kathy to the brink before backing away, leaving Kathy trembling. After doing this a half dozen times, she captured Kathy's clit and sucked on it, occasionally flicking her tongue across the bud, but not stopping this time. Just as Kathy's orgasm struck, Bill pinched her nipple the way he knew she liked it.

Kathy arched her groin upward, her scream of completion making Bill's eardrums seem to flutter. Jill held her lips around Kathy's clit for long moments as the young woman beneath her shook and gasped for air.

Jill, giggling, rolled off Kathy, then scrambled to move to Bill's other side and reverse her direction. She rose up a little as Bill rolled onto his back. Leaning down, she smashed her lips to his. "Taste her?" she asked when she broke the kiss a few moments later. "Doesn't the taste make you hot?"

In answer, Bill reached over, grabbed his wife and settled her on top of him. Jill, giggling like a teenager, grasped his cock, aligned it and slammed her pussy down. Screaming out, she fell forward onto him, her breasts pushing hard against his chest. He grasped her hips, pulled back and slammed his cock home again, quickly setting up a rhythm, his movements causing Jill's breasts to slide back and forth a little on his body.

Jill and Kathy's playing had stimulated both wives, and Jill's nipples moving back and forth through Bill's chest hair only brought her to new heights. Bill had stroked himself as he watched the two, but had stopped short of coming. Now, as horny as he had ever been in his life, he was on a mission. Jill's pussy gripped him tightly as she hung on for the ride. Her orgasm hit, only to build toward another one, which in turn built ever upward toward the next one.

Jill tried to breathe as his cock swelled in her, her nipples seeming to continue to somehow gain in sensitivity. Kathy wormed her hands between the two and locked down on Jill's nipples just as Bill's strokes changed to rapid-fire short ones. He drew all the way back and rammed hard into his wife one last time, his cock coming to rest against her cervix as he held still in her and groaned, his cock jerking, then pulsing as his ball sack tightened up and the sperm geysered into the thrashing woman.

A sucked in breath, a warbling scream that gradually tapered into nothingness, and Jill was out. Bill held his body arched upward, his hips completely off the bed as his balls emptied into his wife that so many men lusted after. Eat your hearts out you bastards. Both of them are mine,  he thought as the last few spurts entered his woman.

"Wow," Kathy said, then again, "Wow! She's gonna be sore tomorrow."

"Here, let's get her on her back and I'll get a washcloth to clean her up," Bill said, as he gently moved Jill off him and got her comfortably situated.

"You don't need a washcloth yet," Kathy said as she moved her sister-wife's legs apart enough to lie between them. With a wink, she leaned forward to lick the come-drooling pussy. "Second hand sperm," she giggled out, "and it makes me horny to smell the two of you mixed."

"That's..." Bill started.

" ... Sexy," Kathy finished for him. She licked around the outer lips, then with her tongue, scooped up a thick stream of semen that oozed out a moment later.

Watching his wife do that made Bill's cock as hard as he had ever felt it. Kathy continued to make a cooing sound as she would lick, then wait for more come to seep out.

As Bill looked up from the sight, he realized that's Jill's eyes were open and staring down at her sister-wife. Kathy chose that moment to slowly drag her tongue through Jill's nether lips, producing a sharp intake of breath from Jill as she raised her hips off the bed, trembling.

Bill smiled to himself as he realized a pussy was going to waste, and his cock could take care of that. On his knees, he moved forward between Kathy's legs. Grasping her hips, he gently raised her into position. With a little guiding help from Bill's right hand, his cock found Kathy's entrance. When he shoved forward, she sucked in a breath and wiggled her ass, but kept licking Jill's pussy.

Soon, his thrusts were pushing Kathy's face rhythmically into Jill's pussy. If either woman thought it was funny, they didn't say anything. Kathy's hands gripped Jill's hips so her mouth wouldn't lose contact with Jill's pussy. Bill's pace picked up, his cock pushing hard against Kathy's womb on every stroke. Shortly, Kathy was pushing her hips back at Bill as Jill began a warbling cry of release, which set off Kathy. As her pussy clamped down on Bill's cock, she spasmed hard around him. Bill let his own orgasm go, barely having enough of his thought processes left to trip Kathy's switch as he did so. Since the women were touching, it tripped Jill's as well.

Jill and Kathy were quickly out from the stimulus overload, their bodies occasionally twitching as aftershocks of their orgasms hit them even in their slumber. Bill hung onto Kathy and rolled to the side, pulling her with him, his cock still embedded in her pussy, a grin plastered on his face.

Life can't be better than this,  he thought as sleep overcame him.

-------

When Bill and his women left the restaurant, Ray Tingle asked Pastor Cambridge and Megan to remain. "You're the Mayor aren't you, Mr. Cambridge?"

Luther glanced at his wife, barely holding back a grin. "Well now, I guess that could be debated." Before Tingle could say anything else, Luther went on, "Technically,  I guess I am. No one has run against me for several terms now, and the five members of the town council are in the same boat. None of us are paid, and no one seems to bother running against us. I guess we are all just dumb enough to continue trying to do the jobs we were once elected to. We meet once a month, pay the bills, and hope there is enough money to pay them next month..."

Frank Wainwright cleared his throat, obviously trying to attract their attention. "Ladies and gentlemen, I suggest that we move this meeting to our own building. I think it's best to keep our plans somewhat private, at least for the time being."

"Certainly. An excellent idea," Tingle said, coming to his feet. "Pastor Cambridge, would you and your wife accompany us..."

"Of course," Luther said. "I suppose these people would love for us to get out of their way so they can clean up."



-------

Chapter 160

MIDVILLE, WYOMING

A few minutes later, Frank, Margaret and Tina, Tingle and four members of his team, along with the pastor and his wife, sat at a conference table in the building Bill had originally thought still housed a real estate office. Coffee or a soft drink, according to taste, in front of everyone, Ray Tingle, at Wainwright's nod, got up to stand beside the table. He clicked a remote, and a big, hi-res screen came on at the end of the room. Displayed there was a recent aerial shot of the town. Tingle didn't comment on how the shot had been taken, but if it was a satellite view, it was better than anything Pastor Cambridge had seen on the net.

"Blur that picture so the dilapidated buildings aren't as noticeable, and I suspect we can begin to have an approximation of what your little town once looked like," Tingle commented.

"Oh my," Cambridge sighed out. "I guess I had become somewhat accustomed to all of the abandoned and rundown buildings, but they really stand out in that picture."

"In a couple of years, if everything goes according to plan, you won't have to blur the picture to imagine a thriving town," Wainwright commented, his voice reflecting his sincerity.

Tingle nodded in agreement with his boss. "We have been completely open and aboveboard regarding the reason my team and I have been here the last two weeks, but to reiterate and to use Mr. Wainwright's terminology, he has tasked me to devise a plan to 'jump start' Midville."

Wainwright, Margaret and Tina all chuckled at the "jump start" expression.

"Anyway, I had complained that I was getting tired of being cooped up in my office, and I guess I mentioned it one time too many. That aside," he said with a grin directed at Wainwright, "my team and I have had conversations with a number of citizens here in town as well as with several farmers and ranchers in the surrounding area.

"The responses fell into several general categories that we fully anticipated, except for one thing, which I'll mention in a minute. Those responses ranged from enthusiastic acceptance to disbelief, and in some few cases, to outright and obvious distrust. We have some ideas to present to Mr. Wainwright and his family tonight, and to you, Sir, as the Mayor," he said, focusing on Luther. "Unless we have the total support of you and the town council, plus a good portion of the citizens of the town, Mr. Wainwright's proposed project will be doomed from the beginning."

"I doubt that my support will..." Pastor Cambridge began before Tingle interrupted.

"Respectfully, Sir, you're wrong, and that's the subject I just mentioned that I would return to. But now is as good a time as any. Your name was frequently brought up, and it was certainly not uncommon for us to hear suggestions to 'check with Luther, ' or 'if Luther likes it, I'll back you as much as I can, ' or 'you need to see the preacher.' On and on. A surprisingly large number of the residents here in town, as well as the local farmers and ranchers, appear to be willing to accept your judgment on things of this nature."

Luther Cambridge was shaking his head. "I mentioned at the restaurant what little my position as the de facto Mayor really represents, and I need to explain something else to you. Our tax base in Midville comes from three main sources. The first is our water. We have two artesian wells on the south side of the town. They're probably the reason there ever was a Midville to begin with. Our water purification plant is old, but still does what we need it to do, although maintenance on the plant and pumps is becoming more expensive every year. Each month we bill our customers for the water they use, but some of them can't pay. Some owe hundreds of dollars for water ... that we'll never collect. We just bill them and forget it. They don't have the money or they would have paid already, and we're not going to cut off water to anyone. Next is our garbage pick-up. We subscribe to a commercial garbage collection service, and our town gets a small share of the proceeds received from billing our residents, but not everyone pays for collection. The company has fairly large garbage cans, and sometimes several families use only one can, sharing the can and the costs.

"In addition to those two sources of revenue, such as they are, we receive some tax money from the businesses that have managed to remain open. Those taxes help to support the town. Water, garbage collection fees and some sales tax, plus a little from license fees, and other taxes are just about all the revenue we recover to pay the town's bills. By the time we pay for power for the street lights and water pumps, plus maintenance on the water system, we have precious little left over to have holes patched on our few paved streets, or to have the other streets graded. We have absolutely no money to assist anything you might endeavor to accomplish here."

Tingle was shaking his head. "We don't expect the town to assist, other than to give us the go-ahead and to eventually approve building permits, licenses and the like. Everything we do will be up to code, or well above it in most instances. Of that, you have my word."

"Let's hear more about this plan," Luther said. "Sorry to have interrupted."

"Your comments weren't an interruption. I'm learning, as well as informing all of you in regard to what we have envisioned."

At a nod from Frank, Ray Tingle continued. "The basis for our ideas came from Mr. Wainwright, and no, I'm not trying to butter up my boss. He gave us a 'suggestion' and we've spent the last two weeks enhancing and expanding that idea. But before I get around to explaining his idea, I need to discuss some other things with you."

At a touch of the remote, the picture on the screen changed to a rural scene, again from high enough to show a section of perhaps a two-mile area. The scene screamed downward as the camera zoomed in. Now obvious were several herds of cattle, apparently grazing. The scene shifted to other locations, all showing small herds of cattle.

Tingle continued. "The cattle industry is still here — barely — according to the ranchers we've interviewed. The scene changed yet again. This time, the animals were different. The camera zoomed in to show a herd of sheep, but there appeared to be even fewer of them than there had been cattle in the other scenes. They watched as black and white dogs scurried to move the sheep toward another pasture.

"The sheep ranchers don't have much of a market for the wool now that the country is flooded with cheap China products," Luther inserted. "And from what I've read, mutton accounts for only a small percentage of the meat market in the USA."

Tingle continued, "Agreed. Yet there once was a thriving sheep industry many years ago when there were still only a few truly large companies in the West. Years ago, there were cattle and sheep trains leaving the West for the Northeast and other points in the US — the economy was booming. Now from the same general area where once thousands of cattle and sheep were shipped almost daily, not to mention the tons of wool that went out, there now is only a trickle — at least a trickle from the smaller, family owned ranches. The company owned farms and ranches are still doing well throughout the West."

"Big money took over," Luther supplied. "They control the prices the small farmers and ranchers receive for their goods. Many acres of farm and ranchland stand idle every year, and more farmers and ranchers go broke."

"Why?" Tingle asked, just to reiterate.

"Because they can't sell their goods for a profit sufficient to support their families."

Tingle smiled and continued with his presentation, this time with pictures from the past. The scenes on the screen appeared to span from the mid-eighteen-hundreds on up to about nineteen-thirty. Small businesses abounded everywhere. Ranchers drove cattle into holding pens, and sometimes in the older scenes, even using the main streets of the small towns to do so. Blacksmiths toiled at their forges, some of their completed wares displayed outside their shops, leather workers made harness and other items, boot makers worked at their trade, their boots and shoes lining the windows of their shops, and seamstresses worked in their small businesses, their dresses displayed in their front windows. People carded wool, then with spinning wheels spun the wool into thread. Seen through a window, a man worked a large hand loom turning dyed thread into cloth.

The last scene remained on the screen as Tingle turned back to his audience. "In the winter, farm families had little to do regarding their farming endeavors. But ... many used the cold months to turn wool into cloth. They used some of it to make their own clothes, and often sold the remainder to companies in the Northeast to produce clothing and other goods for the populace.

"Now, I would like to divert for a moment to discuss something else: Tucumcari, New Mexico."

Wainwright sat back, his hands laced across his stomach, a smile on his face. Tingle had, of course, briefed him on the team's ideas, but still this man never ceased to amaze the billionaire. I can see where he's going with this. He's taken my fledgling idea and expanded it, just as I knew he would. I've already made him a rich man. He could quit today, if he wanted, and never think about working again. I'll give him another bonus when his part is done, of course, but in the end, although it may take awhile, he'll make me far more profit than anyone here will expect or envision, and the town and its citizens will make even more out of this than I will. Hell, it might take me five years to break even, but one day the profits will pour in. Who cares how long it takes? Little One has seen to that. He held back a chuckle that would have made the others wonder. As his thoughts went on, I have the money, and this little town saved my brother Alpha's wife. Midville is in its death throes now, but give us a couple of years and things will be different.

"Tucumcari?" Pastor Cambridge repeated.

Tingle turned to face the Mayor more fully. "A few years ago, a friend and I decided to spend some vacation time on a car trip. Oh, I had flown to various places over a good bit of the world, but I wanted to travel through our country, not just over it. Flying from one place to another, you sometimes fail to realize just how big our nation is, and how beautiful. Anyway, I think we noticed the first sign about Tucumcari approximately five hundred miles before we got to the town.

"I can't remember exactly what the sign said, something to the effect of spending the night in Tucumcari, and giving some ridiculous number of rooms available, at least for a small town. Eventually there was a sign that gave the number of motels, but the first one and many of the others we noticed on the way, gave the number of rooms. I guess it's an attention getter. I know it got ours.

"Miles later, another sign gave a lesser distance to the town, and advertised things to see and do while there. To shorten a long story, we, like many others, had seen so many of those signs along the highway, over hundreds of miles, that my curiosity would not allow me to drive by without dropping off the Interstate and checking out the town.

"But ... I suspect that long ago when the Interstate was built, Tucumcari was faced with what happened here. Businesses from Route 54 were dying; everything was passing them by on the Interstate. But trust me," he said, "Tucumcari hasn't died."

The scene on the screen switched to an overview of a town full of businesses and traffic. "The town is booming, even after all the years since the Interstate was opened."

"But..." Luther started. "We don't have anything to advertise ... What should we do? Advertise that our motel has fifty rooms, or whatever? Our little town doesn't have the money to purchase advertising on one billboard, and there isn't anything to put on the sign, anyway."

Tingle's grin grew wider. "That can change. While Tucumcari still had a viable business base when they began to advertise, you don't have that here. But ... it can be, and unless I miss my guess, the business base necessary for our advertising won't be long in coming."

"Okay, but..."

"Please, bear with me, Pastor."

Cambridge nodded, squeezed his wife's hand and took a sip of coffee.

"Property," Tingle said, "Property." The scene on the screen changed to a drive through of Midville, present day. While the video ran, Tingle continued, "First, there has to be viable property to encourage business back into the area — no matter what type of business it is. There we meet our first real obstacle, assuming that you and the town council approve our plans, of course. To restore the buildings, or replace them, we must first own them. Almost instantly, the cost becomes prohibitive — normally. But ... we have an advantage over that of a single citizen's attempts to reestablish a business here.

"It only took a small effort to determine who now owns all these buildings. First: there are the banks that have foreclosed on the owners, or for other reasons still own property here, property the banks can't sell. This comprises over fifty percent of the buildings and property in the town, and we're including houses in this as well, of course. Second: property still owned by the original business owners or their heirs. And third: property confiscated by the state for non-payment of taxes. There's a surprising number of these.

"Our people are negotiating with representatives from the three categories to buy up groups of properties. The overall figure will be substantially lower per property than if we bought each one singly."

"You're talking about basically buying the whole town? I suppose people might say you want to become a slum lord," Luther said with a half smile.

Tingle tensed up for a second until he noticed the glint of amusement in Cambridge's eyes.

"We won't be slum lords long," he said with a grin. "And that brings us to the next stage of the project. What do we do once we own a substantial percentage of the abandoned buildings in Midville? Well, we have an idea for that, and your responses and backing will weigh heavily on a positive outcome of our endeavors here."

Intrigued, Wainwright sat forward, knowing by Tingle's body language that he was coming to a crucial part of the presentation.

"We want to take the town back a hundred and fifty years. Sheltered, board sidewalks with a continuing facade of the old west from one end of the town to the other. Absolutely every building and business in the business district participating."

"The few businesses remaining simply can't afford it," Luther began.

"It won't cost them anything — at least not in the beginning. We'll eventually charge rent on the buildings we purchase, but that rent will be reasonable for this area and forgiven completely for the first few years. There will be many small businesses. The ones who already own businesses will essentially get the makeover for free. And before you say anything, we'll put all of this in writing and even give you money to hire your own attorneys to look over the contracts. My job isn't to cheat anyone; it's to 'jump start' Midville."

"In short," Megan said, "you're talking about bringing back a ... sort of cottage industry."

"Well put, Ma'am. There are differences of course, but with a ramped up tourist trade there would be a substantial amount of money to be made here. And with Mr. Wainwright's connections there would be guaranteed sales of the new products." He stopped to grin for a second, then went on, "Because of a little advertising, the hiring of a famous chef and higher prices that reflect the quality of the restaurant's menu, Mr. Wainwright has caused a woman who was struggling to make ends meet with her small restaurant near Winter Park, Colorado to now have totally different problems. Her biggest worries now are how long it will take to get her new restaurant built, and where she will seat all her customers who are begging for reservations even months ahead. Nice problems for a business owner to have."

"But how could anyone guarantee sales of cottage industry products, particularly with the big chain stores filling their shelves with cheap goods from China and other countries?" Megan wanted to know.

"Actually, there are a lot of people who will buy Made in USA products, and put simply, our advertising people are well-versed in their trade. Mr. Wainwright has done favors for many people involved in many businesses, over a span of years. Chances are, he won't even have to call in many of those favors. Once word gets out, the people who own companies he's helped will volunteer to buy from us, and this will also spread the word about Midville.

"What about the picture of that blacksmith shop from 1850? Oh, our blacksmith won't be making many horseshoes, but how about hand-wrought iron railings, fireplace tongs, candle holders and fire dogs — things of that nature. He can sell to tourists, and we'll have other companies that will purchase his goods for sale in their specialty stores.

"What about riding stables? This is the West. Tourists expect horses. We found dilapidated stables just outside the town. Once we own the property, we'll build new ones with the facade of the old West continuing.

"And speaking of just outside town, we noticed the seemingly abandoned railroad spur. We talked with a railroad official and he has promised to have it inspected, and conditionally agreed to update it when we have businesses that will need it.

"What about expanding the present drugstore to include an old-style soda fountain? Tourists will enjoy that. Something else for our billboards.

"Hospital supplies? Oh, nothing too technical to begin with: producing sterile saline, packaging sterile IV catheters; things of that nature. Something that the residents here can quickly learn to do and be proud of.

"What about a slaughter house? A humane slaughter house, or packing house, if you had rather use that term. There used to be one at the edge of town. Organically-raised beef. Read that as range-fed, which is what most of the ranchers do around here, anyway. I think we all agree that beef raised without the use of antibiotics and steroids is better for you. We'll advertise it and charge more for it. We have connections with restaurants in many cities that will buy from us. Again, because of the man sitting there smiling at me," he said, nodding to Wainwright.

"Some of the farmers and ranchers have bee hives. They wind up selling their honey for practically nothing. Again, our cottage industry will sell it here for a substantially higher price. Tourists will buy it without even thinking about the price. The profits will help those ranchers and farmers.

"Our list of ideas is increasing daily. We found a guitar maker who rarely manages to sell any of his instruments. His house is full of them and they're beautiful. All he needs is customers.

"There is an artist a few miles from town. He paints scenes of the area, and he does it quickly. We sat and watched as he painted one for us. He has many stacked in his barn. They're good. Display his pictures, give him a studio with a big window where the tourists can watch him work, and he'll sell those paintings.

"I read some of your history. There used to be gold mining a few miles from here. What about panning for gold? It's gone over big in other places. It's worth looking into here.

"Cody, Wyoming: They have picturesque espresso stands — little dollhouse-type buildings sitting at the edge of parking lots — that command a thriving business. What about an artisan cheese factory? Cheeses made by hand the old-fashioned way. Many people love the cheeses these people produce and artisan cheeses are expensive. We can bring in people who will teach our citizens how to make the cheeses.

"Reopen the ranch supply store. Those ranchers and farmers will need supplies when their businesses increase.

"What about dude ranches? We've talked to several ranchers who are willing to discuss the concept. It has worked in other places to supplement a ranch's income. It can work here. And why just dude ranches? After some basic remodeling to provide rooms, or revamping old bunk houses, there will be a lot of families who would love to spend time on a real working ranch, and they will be willing to pay handsomely to do so. The rancher gets a little free labor, and the tourists get the experience of ranch life. We can supplement the ranchers to get them started, and we have the advertising capabilities to make it happen.

"Spend a week with us. Sit astride a real cutting horse as he does his job. Hungry from your day's work? Eat a real steak with real cowboys at the big ranch table." Laughing, he said, "Okay. Okay. Advertising isn't my thing, but we have people who can make you want to be there."

Wainwright spoke up. "We also need to attract the wealthy so we can ... partake of their money," he joked. "I would like to build a high-end hotel, maintaining the old west decor of the rest of the town, of course. It will not be in competition with the present motel. This will be elegant 1850's style and the pricing will reflect that. It will also be an outlet for our range-fed beef that will, naturally, be quite expensive. We will bring in a chef comparable to the hotel's high standards of quality."

Tingle continued, "And in the same vein, there is an abundance of open land that adjoins the town. Plenty of room for a world-class golf course. Build it, advertise it, and people will come. And...  they will have a very expensive hotel to stay in, should they wish. We will, of course, have to expand the airport to accommodate the wealthy arriving in private aircraft.

"While visiting one of the ranches, the lady there showed me her quilts. Some of them were made by her great-grandmother — the knowledge and tradition handed down through the generations. I assure you, she has no idea just how valuable those marvelous, hand-made quilts are to some people. She and her mother still make them, laboriously, one at a time. She generally gives them for Christmas presents, but in the correct environment she could sell them, and charge accordingly. I strongly suspect that in short order, she'll be booked far into the future."

"My hotel," Wainwright commented.

"Exactly," Tingle agreed. "An exclusive shop not far from that hotel, or perhaps inside it. With the proper environment and advertising, those two women could very well make a lot of money. And, of course, she, like all the other businesses in town, will collect sales tax. Several of the women in the community grow herbs. We might want to add a teashop, perhaps combined with a health shop featuring herbs and supplements.

"How about a high-end bed and breakfast to fit the slot between our present motel and the expensive hotel. The bed and breakfast could be another outlet for the expensive range beef," Wainwright commented.

"Excellent," Tingle acknowledged. "And speaking of range, what about having a shooting range? Fire a real Henry rifle like the cowboys used to — still do in Midville. And speaking of shooting, why not have a gunfight? Lots of places do it. Many attractions have done it for years. College kids love to do it. Western rigs, Frontier Model Colt .45s. Meet in the street at high noon for a shootout. The blank ammo sounds real; the guns are real. And it can even be better with modern technology. A tiny laser under the barrel fires when the blank does. Each gunfighter wears a perfectly normal looking western shirt, but it has sensors in it that will detect the laser burst. These in turn cause the fake blood and bullet wounds to pop like you see in the movies. It works in the movies. It looks really real done in the middle of the street where you can see and hear everything. We'll have to make certain everyone knows the gunfight is fake or we'll have people trying to help the actor who lost," he chuckled.

"As I've already mentioned, college kids love to do this, and some of them become exceptionally good actors. We won't charge for it, just advertise it to bring in tourists. And another thing, why not a rodeo? All you need is a fence, some stock pens, bleachers capable of holding a couple of hundred people, and provide some medical personnel and judges, of course. Put some real prize money in it for Friday and Saturday nights, bring in some bulls, and you might even get the PBR to come, or one of the big rodeo associations. With them will come TV crews, and a lot of money will be spent in the town. We'll be expanding the rodeo area before you know it.

"And ... we don't have to reinvent the wheel. Why not use one that's already rolling along just fine? Cody, Wyoming has a rodeo every night during the summer months. They used to parade on horseback through town at sunset every day and wind up at the rodeo. I don't know whether they still do that or not, but that's a thriving town. People love to stand and watch the riders go by. We can borrow their idea about a rodeo every night, and the horse ride through town. If Cody can do it, so can we.

"'Can we go to the rodeo, Mom? Can we, huh?' Kids will be asking that here just as they do in Cody.

"Now back to more mundane things, but nevertheless viable ways to bring in money. At Mr. Wainwright's suggestion, we've been thinking about other types of small industry, not just cottage type enterprises. One of the easiest would be a business that rebuilds brake linings for cars and trucks. Maybe that place, or one similar, could rewind small industrial electric motors and rebuild alternators and starters. And ... Mr. Wainwright already owns a chain of auto parts stores, so there would be sales for all that the companies here could produce."

"Quality," Wainwright offered.

"Yes, sorry I didn't stress that. The companies would truly rebuild the product, not just fix what was wrong with the original as a lot of so-called rebuild companies do these days, and we would provide a much stronger and lengthier warranty. We will have to start small — our possible work force is small. We will bring in personnel to train job applicants, and pay them well to learn. We'll give preference to locals in hiring, but there will eventually be many more jobs than our current workforce here can sustain. There will be people coming in because of the availability of jobs — jobs that pay well, and have nice benefits. We'll have homes ready for them to buy or rent.

Oh, yes, I almost forgot. Wind generators. If the last two weeks have been indicative, there is certainly enough wind here to sustain wind generators. I can think of two small towns that supplement their power using wind generators, and I'm sure there are more. Mr. Wainwright holds the patent on an advanced type of generator that manages to far exceed current wind generator technology. Two such generators would probably supply power for the whole town, even after its population and businesses quadruple. And we can always build more as the need arises. Plus many power companies will buy the excess power."

Tingle looked at his watch. "We have many more things to present to you and your wife, Mr. Mayor, but it's getting late and I know you two have things to discuss..."

"And I have a sermon to finalize for tomorrow," Luther added.

"We're continuing to work on this." Tingle handed Luther a business card with his cell and a landline phone number on it. "The top number is the phone here. We learned that cells don't work very far from the town. That's another project we have to work on. If you can't reach me on my cell, just call here and someone will come find me."

The meeting broke up as everyone shook hands with Luther and Megan.

A few minutes later, the pastor and his wife were in their car. After riding quietly for a little while, Megan finally looked over at her husband. "Do you believe him?"

Cambridge had been staring straight ahead, thinking, as he slowly drove down the back street. "I believe that he believes what he said. And there's another thing. Part of this is embarrassing. We could have done some of this years ago. I..."

"You weren't the Mayor then, so don't go blaming yourself. Several people had ideas, but nothing ever came of those ideas. Water over the dam. We can't change what happened all that time ago."

As Luther turned into their street, he glanced over at his wife. "How could our helping out Jill result in all this? And why are they presenting their ideas to me? I'm just a small-town preacher."

"And the Mayor."

"But..."

"Whether it's by default or not, you're still the Mayor. You and the council have to decide."

"We need a town meeting. No one will believe this."

Cambridge pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. His wife continued, "Baby, our town is dead. There are no jobs. Most of the businesses that were here before the Interstate came through are closed. The few that remain open are struggling. Look at all the old cars and trucks we meet on the street every day. The only new vehicles we see are owned by people who notice the exit for Midville and turn off for gas or something to eat. What do we have to lose? How can Mr. Wainwright's people cheat us or steal from us? We have nothing to lose, anyway."

The Pastor opened his door, the two meeting in front of the car to hold hands as they walked up on their porch. "I need to finish my sermon for tomorrow," he started as they heard the phone ringing. An hour later, he hung up from the last call after talking to each of the town council members.

The phone rang again. "That's it," Megan said, frustration showing as people kept her husband from finalizing his sermon. "I'll handle the calls. You go work on your sermon. I'll start a fresh pot and bring you another cup of coffee when it's ready. You can talk to these people on Monday."

Wearily, Cambridge picked up his Bible and left for the living room and his small desk there.

THE RETREAT

Although Jeremy had been reluctant to spend the night with the Matthews, he had agreed, rather than risk upsetting them, and it was obvious they really wanted the three to stay. Jeff's younger wives, all seven of them, along with Sheriff Tate's nieces, had disappeared with Connie and Denise for several hours.

Jeff, Dave and Quinton had taken Jeremy to the firing range where they spent a couple of hours. Jeremy, having been raised on a farm, was a good shot with a rifle, but had little experience with a handgun. He was much better with one when they finished for the night.

Later, Jeremy stood looking out the big window of the living room as a heavy snowfall blanked out all but the nearest security lights. Occasionally, the wind would shift and the snow would slacken for a moment, providing a view a little farther along the property.

"Glad you didn't try those mountain roads in this?" Dave asked as he walked up.

Jeremy, his mind focused on something else, had not heard Dave until he had spoken. "Uh, yeah. It started just before dark and I don't think it's slackened much since."

The wind chose that instant to blow harder, picking up the loose snow and momentarily blanking out the view completely. "I can just imagine what a whiteout on that narrow road would be like. Yeah, I'm glad we stayed."

Dave touched Jeremy on the shoulder. "Come with me, please. I need to show you something."

-------

A little later, Jeremy, Denise and Connie stood in their suite. "They have a guest closet with clothing for guests," he said, incredulously, holding out two packages, one containing new undershorts, the other containing new pajamas.

"Yeah," Connie said. "We got ours before you did. The closets in here have several sizes of robes, too. And there's a place a short way down the hall where we can wash the clothes we have on. Diana said there was no one here on the second floor but us."

Denise took Jeremy's packages and tossed them onto the bed. Hugging him for a moment, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him, making sure he felt her breasts against his chest. "Diana gave us our choice of suites, but we told her we were going to sleep with you tonight. If you don't want that, tell us and we'll find another suite."

"I..."

"No sex. Just sleep," she said.

"Well ... maybe a little playing, but no full-out sex," Connie offered.

"Are you sure?" Jeremy asked as he looked at first one, then the other of the two women.

"We're sure," they both said together, totally accidentally, but they giggled like schoolgirls anyway as they remembered what Diana had said would happen to the Alpha's women.



-------

Chapter 161

THE RETREAT

Jeff, Sheriff Tate, Dave and Fred were sitting in the living room, the conversation more or less dominated by Quinton and Fred as they told amusing stories about their careers. Diana, Arlene, Kayla, Nat, Nicki and Whitney entered the room carrying packages.

Jeff turned with a quizzical look.

"New trash cans, Sweetheart," his Queen said with a smile as she and the others put their boxes down.

"What's wrong with the trash cans we have now?" the Prime wondered aloud.

"Not a thing," she answered. "But I saw these advertised on the net, and I thought we would try a few of them," she finished, accepting a box cutter from Nat to slice the sealing tape.

With the boxes open and the trash cans out, the women inserted batteries in the can lids. Diana waved her hand in front of her can, and with a little whirring sound, the lid snapped open and a tiny, green LED light came on for a few seconds before the can closed and the light went off. The can itself was approximately two feet tall, with a body of brushed stainless steel. The black plastic top had a slight arch to it. If trash cans could have elegance, these did.

"We've already put a couple in our bedroom. If we like them, we'll order larger ones for the kitchen, and also some for the suites we frequently use for guests."

The wives placed six trash cans in the big living room, then stacked the empty boxes near the door to be disposed of later. Each wife kissed Jeff before sitting near him.

Tate looked at Jeff and raised an eyebrow. Jeff grinned and teased, "I guess my honeys don't have enough to occupy their minds." After a moment of hesitation, he went on. "But doggonit, I can't throw my trash at the trash can anymore. These have a lid on them."

"Oh, you'll live," Diana said, laughing.

The men chuckled, then Fred and Quinton continued with their stories, their audience now expanded. Eventually, Selina came in to tell Jeff good night, her kitten on her shoulder as usual. As she kissed her Prime on the cheek, Billy jumped to his lap. Hugging Selina, Jeff absently petted the cat.

While they chatted, Billy spied the nearest trash can, immediately realizing it was something he hadn't yet explored. Jumping from Jeff's lap, he bounded over to the nearest can. He sat peering at it for a moment, then checked out each side of the can. He couldn't get behind it because it was backed up against a wall. The surface of the can was polished, not a mirror finish, but rather a brushed, dull surface, understated. He couldn't see his image, but as he sat back on his haunches, he noticed the top.

As everyone there watched, he stood on his back legs, reaching up with his front paws, but he was still too short to reach the lid that had caught his interest. He crouched and launched himself upward. Obviously, he came close enough to activate the sensor, for the lid (looking like a giant mouth to the kitten) opened with its distinctive whirring sound.

Billy, instantly terrified that he was about to be eaten by a true monster, bounced off the can just under the lid and ... disappeared, the disappearance accompanied by a soft "whap" as the air rushed in to fill the void.

"Billy!" Selina screamed.

Jeff was on his feet before she even got the word out, the other three Alphas a half second behind him. "What the crap?" Jeff muttered.

"Oh, my gosh. What happened to him?" Diana blurted, now standing, her worry evident, the others in the room voicing similar concerns.

"He just ... disappeared," Nat managed past tears already starting to flow down her cheeks.

A second later, Jeff and Selina heard a distant "Meeeoooowww," coming from the hallway, the cry laden with anguish.

Jeff bolted for the doorway, Selina only a couple steps behind him, the others scrambling to follow. Fifty feet or so down the hallway, the kitten crouched down, his gaze snapping from side to side as he scanned for the monster that had "attacked" him.

Jeff stopped, allowing Selina to run to her kitten. Billy, his tiny, young mind rattled, turned to escape. She reached down, caught him and raised him to her chest, holding him tightly against her body. "You appear to be uninjured. You are secure," she soothed. "Nothing will hurt you."

Selina turned and started back toward Jeff, everyone from the living room now standing in the hall. Jeff put a hand on her shoulder as they returned to the living room, Billy beginning to hiss and struggle.

Selina, peering down at her kitten, whispered, "It is alright, Billy. You are safe."

As she sat in a chair, hugging her kitten, Diana handed her an afghan (one of many that the women kept in the living room.) "Cover him up while you continue to snuggle with him," she advised.

"That kitten just ... disappeared," Quinton said as he, with all the rest, had gathered around the six-year-old and her kitten. Selina covered Billy with the afghan, snuggling him closely to her. She unconsciously rocked while holding the tiny feline against her chest, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Diana slid into the seat with the child, pulling Selina into her arms. Nicki squatted by them, gently dabbing at Selina's cheeks with a tissue, the other females crowding around.

Everyone eventually returned to their seats, saying little as they continued to watch Selina.

"I was almost certain he was dead," she said, her voice breaking as she unsuccessfully tried to choke back sobs.

A deep frown on his face, the Prime said, "I guess we now know how he got out of your suite."

"Like the Ship," Kayla said as she moved to kneel next to Selina's chair, reaching a hand under the afghan to pet Billy.

"Not exactly," Jeff returned. "The Ship translates, using the dimensions to move from one place to another. I... think Billy teleported. I can't imagine a kitten understanding enough about the dimensions to be able to translate. Of course, I'm just guessing, though. We were all watching him. He certainly didn't run away; he just wasn't there anymore. Obviously, he doesn't understand what happened. He was still terrified when we got to the hallway."

Selina's sobs subsided as her genius took over, "Precisely six seconds had transpired prior to our entering the hallway and observing him."

"How in the heck do you keep a teleporting cat from leaving Selina's suite? Or keep him anywhere?" Dave asked, the question obviously rhetorical, because no one there had the slightest idea how to do it.

"Good question," Diana agreed, summing up everyone's thoughts.

Raising the afghan a little, Selina looked under it at her kitten. Looking back at her, his eyes seeming even larger than normal, Billy let out a more relaxed, "Meow."

"He actually did teleport, did he not?" Selina asked everyone without taking her eyes off her kitten.

"Evie is never going to believe this, and I know she'll be pi... , uh, displeased that she missed it," Dave said.

"What shall I do?" Selina asked Jeff as Billy crawled from under the afghan, turning to look toward the trash can.

Jeff cleared his throat trying to stall as he searched for a logical answer. "I don't have the answer to that, Baby. Maybe just try to keep him from being scared. He obviously teleported this time, or whatever he did, because he was badly frightened by the trash can, or at least its lid. Perhaps he was frightened when he so mysteriously escaped your suite, or maybe he just wanted out badly enough."

He shifted in his chair to reach over and hold the little genius's hand. "Sweetheart, we need to keep this from everyone other than the Alphas and their women. Okay?"

"But he teleported," Selina said, trying to keep the whine out of her voice. "He is the only cat in existence with the ability to teleport."

"If you tell people, they'll probably think you're playing — pretending. Remember, they'll think you're just an average little girl — and that would be good if they did. It would be a far worse thing if people actually believed you, as they eventually will, given your intellect. But as soon as word got out there was a cat that could teleport, there would be droves of people up here, probably led by the news media. Eventually the government would hear about it and send out investigators. Investigators from an agency we've probably never heard of. They would want Billy, badly. We would have to leave here and go into hiding — and that would be the best scenario under those circumstances. We could never be seen in public again."

"Oh," Selina quietly said. "I ... should have envisioned that. I ... apologize."

"No problem, Sweetie. Just remember to never mention it to anyone outside our family."

Selina's expression took on an adult edge. "I shall never discuss this with anyone outside the family. My kitten is far too valuable to ever risk his life."

"Maybe we should get rid of the trash cans," Diana offered. "I just bought them because they looked nice and were unique."

But Selina was shaking her head. "If the trash can had not provoked this response, then something else would have elicited it. Billy possesses far too much curiosity.

"Says the pot to the kettle," Diana said with a chuckle.

Selina stuck her tongue out at Diana, and they both laughed, the tension beginning to dissipate.

Jeff stared at the kitten as Selina continued to snuggle him against her chest. He noted that Billy frequently glanced toward the trash can. This is because of Little One. I would just about bet on it,  the Prime thought. Something about the enhancement triggered this. Is this an ability that has been lost, or as Little One thinks about some of my awakening abilities, is it something that has atrophied or lain dormant over time to awaken after his enhancement? Shifting his thoughts slightly, "We need to talk about this, Baby."

{{{ Yes, my Prime, }}} Little One responded.

-------

Later in the bedroom, Jeff lay with Diana snuggled on one shoulder and Arlene on the other. All his other women were deeply asleep, exhausted from their love play and orgasms. The three kissed from time to time, telling each other how much they loved the other. Finally, Diana asked what Jeff had been expecting her to ask. "What did Little One say about Billy?"

Jeff let out a soft sigh as he hugged the two women to him. "She says there are, or at least were at some point in time, several races who could teleport short distances. Apparently not every individual among those races had the talent, but a few did. They were usually held in high esteem and thought to be special, she thinks. She, of course, has no direct knowledge about this, just scant information from her database of incidental knowledge. She says there have been assassins who have reportedly had this ability, also."

"But he could hurt himself doing this, couldn't he?" Arlene injected. "Materialize inside a wall, or something."

"Or go out in the snow and not remember how to get back," Diana added. "That's where we found him to start with. Do you suppose?"

Jeff squeezed her for a second, her breasts pushing nicely against his side. "Let's not let our imaginations go too far afield. Remember the thing about not looking for zebras when you hear hoofbeats? Chances are he was just thrown out to get rid of him. No teleporting or anything like that.

"It's reasonable to think that Little One triggered something when she enhanced him. She says that she only corrected the things that were wrong with him, and optimized his cells for perfect reproduction, among other similar things. Basically what she did to us. She says his mind will function far better, just as ours now do, and his body and brain, again like ours, will continue to improve. Perhaps cats could at one time do that, or at least some of them could. It would be one heck of an advantage to a carnivore. I suspect it's a recessive trait that Little One has somehow stimulated."

The Queen laid her head on her Prime's shoulder, her face only inches from his. "I just hope nothing happens to Billy. I'd cry for a month if it did."

Arlene wiggled against Jeff's side a little. "Helen lets Selina bring Billy to class unless we're doing something in the lab. For the first few days, he tried to get us to play with him, but after a time he seemed to understand that we weren't going to play in the classroom. Now, he generally plays with his toys or sleeps."

"I've kept him several times when Selina couldn't take him to class with her, but I can't keep him every time. Most of my lab work doesn't involve anything that would hurt him, but there are certainly other things in the lab that could hurt a curious kitten," the Prime said.

"Maybe we need to have a family meeting," Diana interjected. "We generally know what each of us is doing, but perhaps we need to factor in a ... caretaker for Billy until we manage to understand how to limit his, uh ... teleporting. I know that Helen has detailed lesson plans, so we could use them to get a general idea when Selina can't take care of him. Since I'm taking my classes on-line, I can generally keep him if something comes up suddenly for someone else."

But the Prime was shaking his head. "Okay for now, but we need to solve this somehow. We can't commit the family to cat-watching every minute of the day, at least for an extended period of time. It isn't fair to whoever gets the job at that time, or even to Billy. Cats are curious, and this little guy is probably way beyond the average kitten in intelligence. Exploring and curiosity are normal parts of being a kitten, or a cat, for that matter. He needs to be free to do those things as he grows."

There was a pause as each was involved in his or her own thoughts, then, "Little One isn't familiar with cats. Heck, the only humans she's associated with are us. Although we're similar to the race she's ... programmed for, we're different in many ways. Not the least of which is that her race was or is telepathic. I don't even know if they continue to exist. But at least her builders allowed her the ability to reprogram herself, and because she was designed to be a Prime's Healer, she has the ability to reconfigure and expand her abilities. The ship gave her the ability to tap power from the dimensions, so she's far more capable now than when I first used her on you two, or Helen, but still, we struggle to communicate."

The Prime was quiet for a moment, then went on, "I need access to the Ship."

Jeff urged Diana to her back as Arlene took her weight off his shoulder. As he pressed his lips to his Queen's, Arlene moved to the other side of her mother. After gently stroking her hand over her mother's breasts, Arlene took a turgid nipple in her mouth. Sucking lightly, she flicked her tongue across the bud as she gradually increased the suction. Diana groaned into Jeff's mouth, their tongues teasing each other as Arlene began to drink her mother's pheromone-laden milk.

-------

A little earlier:

Jeremy, Denise and Connie had donned the pajamas the Matthews had given them, and had washed and dried the clothes they had worn to the Retreat. While waiting on their clothes to dry, they had talked, made out a little, and talked some more. Now, with the clothes finished, they were sitting side-by-side on the couch in the suite's living room.

"I never expected to be treated like this," Jeremy expressed yet again, although the wording was slightly different this time. "How can they take strangers into their home and treat them — us — like this?"

"We worked with them..." Connie started.

"Yeah, but not that closely. We talked some as we worked, and we all ate together, but I had no real idea how wealthy these people are. I knew they had money, but look at this place," he said, motioning with his hands. "This place ... the whole building. I'm not used to anything like this."

"And you think we are?" Denise asked with a chuckle.

"Well, you know what I mean. What about all those snowmobiles? That garage is full of Escalades and the darn thing is heated. They call it their 'outside' garage. And ... they have a friggin' helipad."

"Well, this used to be a hotel or something," Connie offered. "Expensive hotels have helipads, don't they?"

"I guess so," Jeremy responded. "Still, you know what I mean. They have that exercise area downstairs that I'll bet would rival any commercial place there is. Maybe it isn't quite as big, but they have everything you could imagine, just not as many multiples of the equipment as I assume a big commercial gym would have."

"We were there," Connie teased. "We saw it with you."

"Yes, I know that, but I can't seem to get over it. You have to see that indoor firing range. I don't want to even think about how much that thing cost. And the woodwork in here," he said, motioning to the crown molding, "and in the hallways everywhere, and the furniture. I don't even know what kind of wood they used for the moldings, let alone what the furniture is made of, but I know it's real wood, not just some material with a laminate over it. The furniture is beautiful, as everything is in the whole building. I'm halfway afraid to touch anything. I might leave a smudge or something. And the place is so big. When I step out into the hallways, I have to stop and think which way I need to go. And this is their home.

"We came up here with a wild hope of getting the Matthews or the Hensons to buy our company so we could continue to have a job. At best, I thought we might be able to get them to promise to look into it — to think about it. But they got serious about it. I think Jeff is actually going to do it. And he says I'm an Alpha. I first thought he was just bullshitting me for some reason, but I'm beginning to think he's serious. I'm not a friggin' Alpha ... whatever the hell they are."

Connie broke in with, "You kicked Roy's ass a few weeks ago while you were loading our truck, and you surely didn't have any problem kicking Blain's ass, either. I swear he shook the whole house when he fell."

"Yeah, but both of them were pissed and probably not thinking clearly, plus I've had a little training. Either one of those guys could kick my ass all over the county if they settled down some. I let their anger work against them. Trust me; it wasn't a big deal. Besides, Blain backhanded you. I had to force myself to not kill him. Sometimes, I still wish I had."

Connie moved to sit in his lap, pressing her mouth against his, and her breasts against his chest. After a moment, "I'm glad you didn't kill him. If you went to jail because of me, I ... don't know what I would do."

"No man should hit a woman like that. No man. If he ever comes near you again, I'll..." But Connie's lips on his chopped off his comment.

"My turn," Denise said minutes later when Connie eventually pulled back from Jeremy. Denise leaned over to kiss him, her right hand guiding one of his under her pajama top to caress a breast. As soon as his hand touched her, she moaned into his mouth, squirming her body against his side. "When are you going to make love to us?" she whined as soon as she pulled back from the kiss.

"I, uh..."

Connie leaned in to kiss him again, delaying his answer to Denise. When Connie finally pulled back, he moved a little, trying to take pressure off his fully-erect cock. But Connie didn't want to move her ass. "That feels good right where it is," she complained. Seeing what he was doing to Denise's breast, Connie grabbed his other hand and put it under her top, pressing a titty against his palm. "When are you going to make love to us?" she whispered, her mouth almost touching his.

"I, uh ... I can't marry either of you. Who would I choose? And ... I've always thought I would wait for sex until I got married. I'm sorry. It's just the way I was raised."

But Connie wasn't deterred. "You're an Alpha," Connie continued. "Diana told us some things about that, too. Alphas can marry more than one wife. Jeff is a Prime and Diana is his Queen. They have been marrying other Alphas. They're having weddings all next week. Not recognized with the state, so no one will get into trouble for it, but they'll be just as married, according to Diana, and ... we believe her."

"Us marry? Uh, granted that I love both of you, but what about our education? We don't know for sure what will happen to our jobs. Jeff might back out on buying the company. Mr. Henson hasn't even talked to Mr. Jackson yet. Besides, if it's snowing like this in Denver, we're bound to lose at least a day's work Monday."

"It isn't," Denise replied. "We looked at the weather on TV. Denver only got a couple of inches and it's expected to melt quickly. We'll work Monday."

"It feels odd for Lee to be running the company. I'd rather have him on the job with us."

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "He seems to be doing a good job, and Ebbins isn't so bad as a crew boss. We're just not used to him yet."

"You suppose the Matthews will keep Lee running things if they buy the company?"

"Who knows?" Denise responded. "I just want our jobs to continue so we can all get a good education. I don't want to be crawling around on scaffolding and pipes fifty or a hundred feet off the ground for the rest of my life."

The women got up, each grabbing one of Jeremy's hands as they encouraged him to his feet. "There's a much more comfortable place in the other room," Connie said as they led him into the bedroom, refusing to release his hands so he could adjust his cock as it tented his pajama bottoms.

As Jeremy sat on the bed, both women quickly discarded their pajamas, leaving themselves in only bikini panties. "You like?" Connie said as she and Denise slowly spun in front of their man.

Jeremy was desperately trying to will his cock down just before they undressed. Now his eyes seemed to refuse his will, remaining locked on the bouncing breasts in front of him. Denise unbuttoned his pajama top, pulled the garment off and tossed it on the floor. The two encouraged him to lie back on the bed. Connie sat beside him, leaned over and shoved a titty into his mouth while Denise unbuttoned his pajama pants, yanking them and his shorts off before tossing them to the floor with his shirt.

"Oh wow. Look at that, Connie. That thing is going to smart the first time he pushes it up us."

Connie tore her eyes away from Jeremy's mouth sucking on her nipple, and glanced at his groin. Giggling, "Blain would crap himself if he realized what Jeremy has that he doesn't."

Jeremy continued to suck and lick Connie's nipples as her breathing became erratic. After a moment, she hissed out, "I'm going to cooommme," she whined, drawing the word out.

Denise, seeing her opportunity, kissed the head of Jeremy's cock, then licked it while Jeremy mumbled out something.

You may be a virgin on our wedding night, but you're going to have your first blowjob right now,  she thought as she pushed her mouth onto the head of his cock.

Jeremy jerked and made an effort to push Connie away from him in order to reach Denise, but it was a token effort at best. In addition, Connie grabbed the back of his head, holding his mouth on her engorged nipple as she squealed through the best orgasm she could remember.

He's a quick learner,  she thought as her orgasm faded enough for coherent thought. A moment later, she swapped breasts, holding her left breast with her hand as she pushed the nipple between his lips.

Jeremy obligingly sucked that nipple as well, his hips beginning to rise to meet Denise's mouth. "Easy there, Tiger," she said as she pulled back for a moment. "I've never been able to deep throat even with a small cock, let alone yours. Let me do it, my way, Honey."

"I don't ... uh."

Denise stopped for a moment. "We're not going to try and fuck you. But we are going to make love to you."

Before Jeremy could complain — if he really wanted to — Connie pulled his head hard against her breast and hissed out, "Suck it, Baby. Suck it. I'm almost there again."

After a few minutes, Connie was beginning to whine, and Jeremy mumbled something around his mouth full of titty. Denise stroked his cock with one hand, the other gently massaging his balls, while she moved her mouth up and down on him, her cheeks concaving inward as she sucked.

Connie reached another peak, letting out a warbling cry this time. Denise could feel Jeremy's cock throbbing in her mouth as he tried to warn her past the titty being crammed hard into his mouth. Denise felt his cock throb again, then pulse as a strong stream of semen spurted into her mouth.

She fought back a cough as she swallowed, only to have to do it again a second later.

Later, Denise took her turn with Jeremy sucking her nipples as Connie sucked his cock.

Afterward, as they lay in the afterglow, the women snuggled in Jeremy's arms, "Diana had a talk with us," Connie quietly said.

"And what did you talk about?" Jeremy chuckled as a hand from each of his women gently fondled his mostly-deflated cock.

Connie answered. "She told us we were meant for you, and our idea about being your women until you found one your age was just plain dumb. She said that we should be your women now and forever. If you wanted other women, we were to help you find just the right ones, but we would all be sister-wives together. Jeremy, Baby, there's something about her. It's like we connected or something. It's almost as if she can read our minds, right Denise?"

Denise was already nodding her head yes. "We really like her. She told us we should ask you to marry us, and not wait for you to ask us, because you probably wouldn't, since you would want to be fair and wouldn't want to hurt one of us by choosing the other. But you don't have to choose between us. We can both be your wives. We don't have to tell anyone. We can just let the guys we work with think we're your fuck buddies. I've heard enough talk to know that some of the guys at work live with their women without having married them. You know that. Heck, Connie and Blain did it. Many people do that these days. So we'll just pretend we're doing the same thing, only it will be both Connie and me. Heck, if the guys on our crew find out you're screwing both of us, that will raise your status in their eyes for sure, and the same thing goes for the other crews."

"But they'll..."

"Think less of us? Fat chance. And who cares? But Diana thinks they won't. She told us we're plenty pretty enough. We don't think so, but she's going to get Helen to give us a class on makeup and some other things. Maybe sometime in the future we can get some money ahead and go out together one night. You know, to a nice place where we can dress up for you a little."

"I like what you have on now," Jeremy teased.

"Just a wee bit more than this," Connie said, preening for him, as both women laughed.

-------

Jeff eased out from under Diana, trying not to awaken her. "You going to Jeremy's suite?" she quietly asked as she moved a little more so he could ease out from under Arlene's arm and leg.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Go back to sleep. I'll catnap while Little One enhances them."

"Come back when she's finished. I want to hold you some more."

"Okay, Babe, I'll come back for a while when Little One is done."

Kayla slid out of bed when he did, but Jeff met her as she walked around the foot of the bed. "Go back to bed, Baby," he said quietly. "I'm just going to Jeremy's suite with Little One. I won't go outside without you."

"You promise?" she quietly asked.

"I promise."

Without a word, still practically asleep, Kayla stumbled back to bed. Glancing at Diana, Jeff could see the smile on her face.

Quickly pulling on jeans and a shirt, he left the suite and went up the stairs to the second floor. Easing Jeremy's suite door open a crack, he listened. A moment later, he was at the suite's bedroom door. A turn of a silent door handle and a gentle push allowed him to put a hand holding Little One through the crack. Her blue beams reached out, and the slumber of the three construction people deepened.

Jeff stepped on into the room, the only light coming from a nightlight on the other side of the bed, but to the Prime's heightened senses, the room seemed as bright as day. He could smell sex, but he doubted they had gone all the way since the smells didn't seem to be mingled. Diana had told him that the women had said they had not gone all the way yet, and he thought they had kept to that tonight, also.

As he walked over and put Little One on Jeremy's bare chest, he looked down at the sleeping trio. You've done well for yourself, Jeremy, and by your women's expressions as they sleep, they seem to be pleased.

Not fair to stare at your women when you can't defend them,  he thought as he pulled the sheet a little higher to cover the women's breasts, his eyes struggling to remained focused on Denise's and Connie's faces, lest he disrespect an Alpha. Smiling, the Prime walked over to a corner, sat, and leaning back, closed his eyes. You three are going to feel a lot different at breakfast.

Closing his eyes, he willed himself to lightly sleep.



-------

Chapter 162

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2 — THE RETREAT

When Little One's mental touch awakened the Prime from his light slumber, he stood and walked to the bed. She was sitting on top of the sheet that was covering Connie. He lifted the small alien onto his shoulder where she quickly flowed under his collar and spread out across his back.

"Thank you," he mentally sent to her.

He could feel her loving response as he stood looking down at the people lying on the bed. As his glance fell on Jeremy, I need to convince you somehow that you're an Alpha. Diana says the three of you need to be married. She says Denise and Connie have told her you're a little stubborn about taking your women before marriage. I hope they relayed to you what Diana asked them to. Not many twenty-year old men are virgins. I'm no authority on what makes a man attractive to a woman, but my Queen asserts that you are certainly attractive enough to have lost your virginity long ago, and she also says that Denise and Connie are the ones who invited you to join them, not the other way around. I hope they realize how much character that virginity of yours represents. Diana is certain those two women are meant for you, and I think she's right. Hopefully, they will be able to convince you to marry them.

The few years they're older than you won't make any difference, and now with Little One's enhancement, all three of you will soon look as if you are all about the same age. The best to you, my new Alpha. We need to get to know each other better, and I need to teach you how to use your pheromones now that your body can more effectively produce them. Wouldn't want the women in the office all following you out of the building when you stop by to talk to Lee, now would we?

Smiling, Jeff let himself out of the suite. Almost four. I promised Diana that I would return so we could snuggle some more. I guess my run will be late this morning. Stopping by the living room, he had the computer bring up the camera at the foot of the drive in time to see Security's snowplow go by as it returned to the ski lodge. A quick check of the drive resulted in a smile as he realized they had already plowed that out, too.

It's stopped snowing. Good morning for a run. Of course, as far as Jeff was concerned, any type of weather short of storms with high winds or lightning was a good time for a run, but he had told Diana he would come back to bed. A few minutes later, he slid in next to his Queen, who put her head on his shoulder and a leg across him. He set his internal alarm for four-thirty and was out.

-------

The TV came on in the construction worker's suite. "GOOOOOOD MORNING!" the AI's bright, cheerful voice announced.

"What the crap?" Jeremy snapped out as he sat bolt upright, fumbling for the remote to turn the lights up.

"I APOLOGIZE FOR STARTLING YOU. IT IS 6:30 A.M. I HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED BY DIANA TO AWAKEN YOU. SINCE IT IS SUNDAY, BREAKFAST WILL BE SERVED AT 7:00 IN THE SMALL DINING ROOM ADJACENT TO THE KITCHEN."

Denise and Connie were giggling as the AI shut the TV off. "Whoops. We forgot to warn you," Connie confessed, which seemed to set off the giggles again.

Jeremy nodded toward the television. "That thing sounded alive. There was inflection in the voice and it apologized..."

"It's their computer system," Denise interrupted. "Mr. Matthews, uh, Jeff, is an inventor. Remember? Diana told us the AI would wake us at six-thirty, and it might sound real."

"AI? But ... TVs don't talk intelligently to people — computer driven or not," Jeremy said as if to convince himself. "There was a man's face on the screen and his lips were moving in sync with what he was saying, or what the TV was saying. Oh, shit; I don't know what I mean. But I do know it was just plain ... eerie."

After a moment, he went on, "She told you an AI would wake us?"

"Yep."

"Artificial intelligence," the new Alpha elaborated, "hmmm, I thought that was science fiction stuff. Oh, I guess the military might have something like that, but a private citizen, really?"

Denise wasn't paying a lot of attention to what Jeremy was saying, since she had raised the sheet and was looking underneath it; more accurately, she was staring at Jeremy's erection. "Oh, now that looks nice," she said, reaching for his cock.

"No, no," Jeremy got out as he threw the sheet off and quickly crawled over Connie to get out of bed. "I would love that, but I have to pee — bad."

Both women got out of bed and chased him into the bathroom, all three laughing and playing. He tried to run them out of the room. "You can't come in here while I'm peeing," he almost pleaded.

"We're not going anywhere," Connie said past giggles. "Might as well go ahead and do it."

Frustrated by the women wanting to watch him pee, he stood over the toilet, holding his dick down, straining. The women, grinning, locked eyes for a moment. Connie put a hand on his cock, and Denise slipped a hand under his balls, gently squeezing them.

"It will never go down enough for me to pee with you two doing that," Jeremy tried unsuccessfully to grouse.

"Then I need to do this," Connie said, dropping to her knees and turning his cock toward her mouth.

"Baby, I..."

Her mouth locked around the head of his cock. As she looked up at him, she swirled her tongue around the shaft for a moment, then took him deeper into her mouth while her hand pumped. Pulling back for a moment, she smiled up at him, "Just let it go, Lover. Then when your cock goes down, you can pee."

Denise went to her knees and again gently lifted his balls, playing with them. "It's only fair," she said, looking up at him. "I caught two loads last night, and Connie only got one. We love you. Now come in her mouth so you can pee without straining."

Jeremy was having a hard time believing what was happening to him, and in addition, he realized that he felt better than he had ever felt in his life. Damn. Could the great feeling from those blowjobs they gave me last night make me feel better the next day, too? he wondered. And her mouth feels even better than it did last night. This is ... odd. When she sucks, I seem to somehow feel it more — way more — than I could last night.

"Come for us, Baby," Denise encouraged.

A few moments later, "Sweetheart, I'm close," he got out past a roaring in his ears and a tingling all over his body as an all-consuming orgasm approached.

Connie looked up at him and winked. "Oh, crapppp," he gasped out, his legs shaking as the greatest feeling he had ever experienced in his life enveloped him. His cock actually stung as his come pumped through it. He distantly heard Connie choke and Denise giggle. The world grayed out and he swayed on his feet, his hands coming down to brace against the women's shoulders as Connie swallowed again and again.

When he was done, Connie turned his cock loose, a look of shock on her face. His dick whacked his belly as it rebounded away from her grip, his erection obviously not diminished in the slightest.

Denise and Connie stared at his cock for a moment. "I guess there's some left for me," Denise said as she pulled his cock down to her mouth. Connie lifted his balls and played with them this time.

After Jeremy had come again, with almost as much as he had with Connie, his cock was still up. "You two need to leave for awhile so I can get this thing to go down enough to pee. I don't know what's happened, but I want sex as much now as I did when you two first started. With those titties bouncing around, my dick is never going down."

The two kissed him and left, closing the bathroom door after them. Connie turned to Denise as soon as they were back in the bedroom. "You feel it? Not about Jeremy. Do you feel it?"

Denise looked in the full-length mirror on the closet door, then bounced up and down, watching her breasts. She slid a hand down her belly, cupping her sex for a moment. "My boobs are tighter than I've ever felt them, and I'm so hot all I can think of is taking that hunk back to bed. I feel... wonderful. If that's what you mean."

"Yeah, me too," Connie said as she slid a finger up her slit until she touched her clit. Without warning, an orgasm roared over her, almost causing her to fall with its intensity. Staggering the short distance to the bed, she sat. "Something has happened to us," she gasped out a few moments later, her voice quavering.

Denise, in the meantime, had touched her own clit as well, and was in the midst of a mind-blowing orgasm of her own. Eventually, the two women looked at each other, but before they could say anything, they heard the shower start.

Somehow, they managed to shower without raping Jeremy, but it was a close thing.

-------

As the three construction workers walked into the small dining room, Jeff and Diana were standing near the door talking. The Prime tensed. "Oh, shit," he quietly said. "Jeremy is dumping pheromones. You take care of the women, I'll go get him calmed down."

Jeff turned to take the young man's arm. "Good morning, my friend. We need to talk. Now," he said, practically dragging Jeremy out the door.

In the living room, the Prime shut the big doors behind them, turning to stand in front of Jeremy. "I'm going to tell you a couple of things, and I need you to believe me, even though I can't give you all the information I would like to at the moment. That said, remember, I told you that you were an Alpha. That's the truth, but only a small portion of it. Last night, while you slept, your body was enhanced, as well as those of your women. To put it bluntly, your body is now able to produce pheromones that will attract any female that doesn't already belong fully to another male. And when I say 'belong', I mean it to a degree that I'm unable to fully explain right now, other than to say that happily married women who love their husbands, or another Alpha's women, aren't affected to any appreciable degree. But ... you are showering your women with these pheromones — deluging might be a better term. Their bodies have also been enhanced and their sexual desires elevated to new heights. From what Connie and Denise told Diana last night, I'm assuming that you haven't made love to them yet?"

Jeremy was shaking his head. "No. At least not all the way. I feel strongly about sex before marriage. It's ... the way I was raised, I guess."

"I find that honorable," the Prime said, "but the effect of your pheromones is that your women are miserable not being able to have sex with you."

As Jeremy stood looking bewildered, "To be even more frank, right now, they would fuck you on the dining room table in front of all of us if you asked them to. For now, I'm going to teach you how to shut off your pheromones. After breakfast, I'll teach you how to completely control them. Otherwise, you will have strange women following you around wanting to make love to you. Trust me on that one; it can be embarrassing. I had to learn for myself, but my pheromones came a little at a time. Your production apparently came full blown."

"But I don't..."

"Used properly, the pheromones will enhance your lovemaking with your wives, and will help to bind them to you forever, but the pheromones are not the only binding force. There is much more I need to tell you, but we don't have the time now. Sit," Jeff instructed, his voice taking on a tone that Jeremy had never heard before. It wasn't a command voice ... exactly, but somehow the new Alpha didn't want to disobey.

"I need to touch your head for a moment while we talk, Okay?"

-------

As Jeff and Jeremy went back to the dining room, they stopped just outside the door as Jeremy said, "I still don't understand. How can I produce pheromones?"

"All Alphas do, even before they're enhanced, although the amount before enhancement is usually minuscule. Now that you've been enhanced, you have to learn how to use those pheromones. Somehow the production part of your pheromones must have matured quicker than it usually does. So, other than that, how do you feel?"

"I feel... great. But what's this 'enhancement' thing? What did you do to us? I feel as if I could run up this mountain with two hundred pounds on my shoulders and never get tired."

Jeff turned to open the door. "And you will feel great, as you put it, for a very, very long time, my young friend, and so will your women. Now, let's go eat. Oh, yeah," he said, turning back to Jeremy. "Expect to eat three times as much this morning as you have ever eaten at one time in your life. And when you pack your lunches Monday morning, make sure that all of you take extra — a lot extra. For the next several weeks, all three of you will be hungry all the time. After the initial hunger stage is over, you'll still eat much more than any other normal man your size."

When they stepped into the dining room, as if to emphasize what Jeff had said, Denise and Connie grabbed Jeremy's hands. "We're famished. Come on."

"We thought you were never coming back," Denise added.

Jeff and Diana smiled as their younger wives descended on the three, dragging them to the steam table and giving advice about various foods, sometimes adding extra to the workers' plates. The Prime kissed his Queen. "Make sure they stay for lunch, and when they leave, send a load of frozen steaks with them. They're already struggling financially, and haven't lived together long enough for pooling of incomes to have time to help much. Having three ravenous appetites is going to make things more difficult for a while. We also need to reassure them that they're not going to get fat."

His Queen smiled at him. "I'll send one of our big ice chests with them, full of frozen steaks and vegetables. Denise has already told me they have a large chest-type freezer." She stood thinking for a moment. "We'll put the ice chest in the back of Jeremy's pickup, then tell them just before they leave. That way, they'll have a harder time trying to refuse it."

"That's my girl."

-------

Hope had just finished a second picture of a slaver from Art's memory. He had noticed that she seemed lost in thought from time to time as the sketch neared completion. Now she sat staring at it as he got up to get each of them a soft drink. "This is a big strain on you," he said, looking back at her as he opened the door of the small refrigerator. "Why don't we skip the session tomorrow? You have to be in class, anyway, don't you?"

She looked at him blankly as he returned to his seat. Putting the unopened drink that Art handed her onto the coffee table between them, she returned her gaze to the sketch. "Yeah," she absently said. "But Doctor Boswell said I could take a couple of hours off to do the sketches each day until we were finished. I can make the time up easily enough."

Art's voice took on a concerned note. "I understand that, but I still think you could use a day off."

Hope continued to stare at the sketch/picture, but her tension was increasing by the moment. After a short pause, she answered, her voice beginning to break as she suddenly glared at him, "A child of fifteen shouldn't be exhausting herself to do adult things? Is that what you mean?" she snapped out, the comment full of sarcasm as she looked over at Art seated across from her. "Is that what you really meant? That I'm just a little girl trying to do an adult's job? Well, let me tell you something, Mr. FBI agent, you have no idea what I've seen, what I've been forced to do."

Almost dumbfounded at her response, Art hastened to reassure her that he had thought nothing of the kind. "No, Hope. That wasn't what I meant at all. I never intended to imply..." he started, wondering what had set her off.

She threw the sketch down on the coffee table between them, her face flushed. Then pointing at the picture, "I fucked this bastard, Mr. FBI agent. I fucked him over and over again, at least once a week. Him and others like him. He wanted me to wear my hair in 'dog ears.' You know, pony tails on the side of my head, and I also had to wear an outfit that an eleven or twelve year old girl would wear to look pretty." Stabbing a finger at the drawing, "Daddy bought several of the dresses because this ass kept ruining them by spraying come all over them. He would fuck me with my pretty little pink dress still on, just pulling the top down past my boobs and pushing the skirt up so he could get to me. When it was time for him to come, he would sometimes pull out and shoot off on my dress and breasts.

"He hit me; bruised me. He bit my nipples. He made me suck him off. He came in my pussy, over and over. He always took Viagra so he could fuck me all night. Most times, I could barely walk the next day. And do you know what I got out of it? Bruises all over my body and my pussy swelled up. He didn't hit me in the face, but he did just about everywhere else. He even thumped my clit with his finger — hard. You have no idea how much that hurt. When I complained to Daddy, he just laughed. All he wanted was the asshole's money. But it didn't do him much good with his brains splattered on the floor and wall of that motel room. Did it?"

Art kept trying to calm her, but he wasn't sure she could even hear him.

Hope jumped to her feet, knocking her coke off the coffee table. "I hate men," she screamed out. Then pointing to the picture, "And I especially hate this asshole. His accent is so bad that sometimes I couldn't understand what he said. He beat me for that, too. We're wasting our time with this sketch. I think he's some kind of diplomat from Iran or somewhere over there. He has diplomatic immunity. He can't go to jail. He laughed about that. Our government protects him, and besides that, he's too rich to go to jail, anyway."

Before Art could do anything other than stand, she was out the door, hunched over, sobs wracking her body.

Art went out a few steps behind her. When she realized he was following, she spun to confront him. "Stay away from me. I don't want you, or any other man, near me right now."

She opened the door to her suite, disappearing inside.

Art hurried back into the suite they had been using. Snatching up the phone, he forced his mind to calm as he tried to remember the number to his suite. "Be there. Be there," he said as soon as he dialed.

On the third ring, "Hello."

"Sandra, I need you and Bobby. The sketch Hope just did for me turned out to be of some guy who raped her. She's upset. And before you ask, I dare not go into her suite right now. She just screamed at me that she hates men."

"Bobby is reading in the bedroom. I'll get her, but you should probably get Diana as well."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said as soon as he had hung up the phone. Flinging the door open, he jogged down the hall in search of Diana.

As he rounded the first corner, he almost collided with Arlene and Melissa. "Where's your mom?" he demanded of Arlene.

The two young wives took in Art's flushed face and his concerned countenance. "Uh, she said she was going to be with Denise and Connie this morning. What's wrong?"

Art gave a quick synopsis of what had happened.

"And she's..."

"In her suite now."

Arlene looked to her sister-wife. "Go get Mom, please. I'll help Hope."

Melissa spun and ran down the hall.

Arlene jogged toward Hope's suite, Art right beside her. "You probably need to wait..."

"Yeah, I know. I've already called Sandra and Bobby. Maybe they can help, too. I'll send them in when they get here."

Arlene stopped for a second with her hand on Hope's door. "You didn't do anything, Art. Seeing the sketch of the bastard who raped her is the problem. You were just handy. I'm sure she'll apologize when she gets over this."

Arlene didn't wait for his answer, but went on into the suite.

Art propped his back against the wall, waiting and wondering what he could do to help.

Diana came hurrying up from one direction, Sandra and Bobby coming from the other.

"Arlene's with her," Art said.

Diana quickly hugged Art. "This had to come out sooner or later. Now don't go blaming yourself." Turning to Sandra and Bobby, "One of you come with us. She doesn't need a lot of people in there right now."

"I'll go," Bobby said.

Inside, Hope was lying on her bed. When Arlene had lain beside her a few moments earlier, Hope tried to push her away. "I don't need anyone," she sobbed. "I don't need anybody."

"Yes you do," Arlene insisted, wrapping her arms around the younger girl.

"I don't. I don't!"

Arlene held tighter, pulling the crying girl to her. Hope struggled for a moment, then giving up, relaxed into the young Queen's arms, still sobbing.

When Diana and Bobby entered Hope's bedroom, Arlene looked up at them and made eye contact with her mother. Diana slipped her shoes off and eased down behind Hope, the Queen also encircling the sobbing girl in her arms.

Bobby reached over to hold Hope's wrist as she took her pulse. "I don't have access to a sedative, so there's little that I can do."

"We don't need one. Just turn the lights down a little before you go, please."

Bobby reached over and kissed Hope on the cheek, picked up the remote and lowered the lights partway.

As soon as the nurse was gone, Diana softly said, "Hope, Baby, turn toward me. Come on, Baby. Turn this way." As soon as Hope obeyed, "That's a girl."

Diana unbuttoned her blouse and unsnapped her front-catch bra. "Turn the lights down some more," she whispered to her daughter.

"Mom, are you sure? Your pheromones..."

"Yeah, I'm sure," the Queen quietly said as she pushed a swollen nipple against the sobbing girl's lips.

-------

Outside the suite, Art turned as Jeff walked up. "How's she doing?" the Prime asked.

"I have no idea. She was crying hysterically. Turns out this sketch of one of the slavers I had seen was some big shot who had, uh, raped her — numerous times, I think, and paid her father for the privilege. She's really upset. Crap, this is all my fault. I never should have used a young girl to sketch for me, no matter how good she is..."

Jeff put a hand on Art's shoulder, "That's a bunch of bull, and you know it. As far as age is concerned, she's only a couple of months younger than several of my wives. But you had no way of knowing that someone you had seen would be a man her father had prostituted her to. When this is all over and we get this asshole, she'll be grinning from ear to ear and thanking you for allowing her to be part of things. That aside, and to reiterate, she's almost sixteen, and I suspect she's seen more than most women who are much older. She wanted to do the sketches — was enthusiastic about it. Let's give Diana some time with her. Both Helen and my Queen have been expecting something to happen. Maybe Hope has to reach a low before she can build back. Who knows? I don't understand women in general, let alone one who has been traumatized the way Hope has been."

"Maybe you're right, but for now, I feel like shit."

"She's not mad at you. She's mad at him. You just happened to be close by."

"I hope you're right," the young agent said.

"Diana and Arlene are in there, right?" Jeff asked Bobby as she came out of the suite.

"Yes. Diana and Arlene are both lying in the bed with her, just holding her and letting her cry. Di asked me to turn the lights down and leave. She says Hope will be fine."

"Then she will be," the Prime said with emphasis. Turning back to Art, "Let's see that sketch. I need to get it scanned and to the General, along with all you can remember about the incident where you saw the guy. We'll also include everything you can remember that Hope said about him. When she's settled down and a little time has passed, we'll get Diana to see if she can get any more information from Hope about him."

Inside the suite Hope had been using for her sketching, Jeff picked up the sketch from the coffee table. "Hmmm, he's..."

"Iranian," Art offered. "At least Hope thinks so. She said he was some type of diplomat and frequently bragged about having diplomatic immunity."

"I'll bet this fucker doesn't have General Whitworth's immunity," the Prime snarled. "This ass might very well be above prosecution here in the states, but people have heart attacks and accidents all the time. Good traumatic accidents."

The anger radiating from Jeff was an almost physical thing. Art didn't quite know how to respond as Jeff stood staring at the picture. After a moment, the Prime seemed to calm himself. Holding the picture in front of him, "Damn, she's good," he said in an almost-normal voice.

"Yeah," Art agreed.

"Let's get to my office and get this scanned into a file. While we're there, I want you to write down everything you can remember Hope saying about him, verbatim, if you can."

"You've got it."

A little later, when Jeff had the picture file and Art's comments on a flash drive, the Prime spoke up, "I'll get Security to come pick this up and send it to the General. They have an absolutely secure system. I think mine is too, but I don't want a link between you and the outside world, so we'll let Security transmit it."

"I'd like to take it to them, Jeff. If you don't mind."

Jeff answered without hesitation, "Keys to the Escalades are on the rack in the kitchen. Keys are all the same. One fits all. Take an Escalade from the inside garage. I'll call and tell Security you're coming."

"Thanks Jeff," the young agent replied, turning to leave the office.

Jeff closed the door and sat back at his desk. After a brief conversation on the radio with Security, he picked up his secure satellite phone. He knew that Whitworth would be back at the Retreat tomorrow in time for the first wedding, but the Prime wanted to insure that the General was completely updated on everything Art had heard from Hope.

-------

Jennie, Hope's sister, stepped just inside the bedroom and stopped, the seventeen-year-old waiting for her eyes to adjust to the low light. She wasn't sure what was going on, but knew that something was. Arlene, at Hope's back, rose up just a little and put her finger to her lips, then motioned for Jennie to come around the bed.

As Jennie toed her shoes off, Arlene slid away, motioning for Jennie to take her (Arlene's) place behind Hope. Jennie slid in behind her sister and gently put her arms around her. Hope occasionally let out a muffled sob similar to what a small child or baby would do after crying for a long time, but as Jennie moved closer, she finally realized that more was happening.

Diana shook her head ever so slightly, stilling a comment even as it bubbled to Jennie's lips. Arlene slid in behind Jennie, Arlene's arms holding Jennie even as she held Hope. Jennie stared a question at Diana, but the Queen either didn't notice, or refused to acknowledge, her loving gaze focused on Hope's face as the Queen whispered to the girl slowly nursing at her breast, as a baby who was close to sleep would nurse for a moment, stop, then begin nursing again.

The air was ripe with the Queen's pheromones, and Jennie could feel them as her younger sister nursed. Jennie's love for her Queen seemed to increase with its intensity. She knew that love was reciprocated by her Queen and Arlene. The young wife felt tears flow from her eyes as she realized just how much she loved Diana — all her sister-wives for that matter — and how much that love was returned.

Arlene tapped Jennie lightly on the shoulder. "Turn over," the young Queen whispered.

As Jennie obeyed, she realized that Arlene had opened her top and her bra. Arlene slid up a little in the bed as she guided Jennie's face to the young Queen's breast. Without hesitation, Jennie took one of Arlene's nipples into her mouth, sucking gently. After a moment, she felt the sweet, warm milk flow across her tongue.

Arlene reached a hand over Jennie to meet Diana's hand. The two Queens interlaced their fingers as, for a time, they seemed to become one.



-------

Chapter 163


MIDVILLE, WYOMING

A little earlier in the day.

Bill Madison eased out of bed, being careful to not awaken his women. Taking his clothes into the vanity area, he dressed and slipped on a coat. As he walked out on the landing in front of the motel door, he noticed Frank Wainwright farther down the landing, waved to him and walked in his direction.

As the two men met, Bill slapped Wainwright on the shoulder. "I would say you're up early, but then again, you're always up early."

"Can't help it," Frank said as they descended the stairs. "My parents were early risers, and they rolled me out with them. I guess it caught on, or something; I've been a 'lark' throughout my adulthood, and continue to be, as you very well know. So why the comment?"

"Oh, I don't know. No reason, really. I guess I just wanted to get out early and walk around a bit. Seems a shame that what was once obviously a pretty nice town wound up like this. How did the meeting go last night?"

Wainwright spent the next few minutes bringing Bill up to date with the team's suggestions, as the men walked through the motel lot and turned down Main Street.

"So what did Cambridge think about it?"

"Difficult to tell. Tingle offered him the job that you and I discussed, but Cambridge said he wouldn't take it until he thought about it and discussed it with his wife. He also said he would have to give two weeks notice to the grocery store where he worked, but in the same breath said the owner usually fired an employee as soon as he or she gave notice."

"Nice guy," Madison sarcastically commented. "Then again, that will be better for us. Cambridge will have a much better paying job with benefits, and you will have a liaison who is known and respected. And ... you won't have to wait for him to work out a notice."

The men walked on for a time without speaking, just enjoying the early morning, Wainwright's security discreetly following them. Bill glanced over at his boss, "Are you planning to visit Cambridge's church this morning?"

"Well ... I had considered it, but I didn't want to give the impression that..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. A little like a politician. Shake hands with everyone and kiss the babies. Go to church. That kind of thing."

"But..." Wainwright continued, "Margaret informed me that we were going," he said with a chuckle, "so I guess the people will just have to debate my reasons for being there."

"Jill says she's going, and after what they did for her, I can understand why she feels obligated to go. Plus, she says she wants to hear Cambridge preach. And, of course, that means Kathy and I will go, also. What about Tingle?"

Wainwright let out a chuckle. "He said he was in church last Sunday and will be today. I don't know whether he went to show everyone he's a good guy, or just wanted to go to church. He said three of the people on the team went last Sunday, also, but they're people who usually go to church anyway."

"Well, I'm long overdue," the pilot admitted, "but I wonder how long it will take before people begin to realize that I have two wives? Things might get interesting then."

"And for me," Wainwright commented. "Well, technically, I'll marry Tina this week, but she, Margaret and I are all sleeping together, anyway."

"Cambridge and his wife know about Jill and Kathy, but they haven't shown any reaction. They actually invited us to spend the night with them, and they have only one extra bedroom. The implication was that all three of us would use it. I doubt if the Cambridges will make any effort to tell people that I have two wives, but I suspect someone will figure it out when they see us together this morning."

"Times are changing; multiple marriages are becoming more common, or at least more than one woman living with one man is," Wainwright commented. "But since there are only two women, one could easily be a sister-in-law, so the facts aren't as evident with us, but with Jeff..."

Madison chuckled as he glanced at Wainwright. "Yeah, with fourteen women gathered around you, I imagine people wouldn't even consider the sister-in-law angle."

Chuckling, the two Alphas turned right to walk in the direction of the parallel street, intending to circle back toward the motel.

"What about the vacation? Did you convince Cambridge and his wife to accept it?" Wainwright questioned.

"I tried, and so did my women, but right now, I haven't the foggiest."

Wainwright sighed. "I've had good employees who had financial problems. Problems that came about through no fault of their own. As you know, in these cases, I usually try to assist them. But some people won't accept help. They have too much pride, or perhaps, integrity, to do so. Whatever. At times, I've had to bypass them to accomplish my goal. Then I've just flat out lied and denied the entire thing. Why don't you sit down and talk to both of them together..."

"As I said, I've already spoken to Luther, and my women talked with his wife..."

"Do it again, then drop it for a while. If they don't respond positively, create a travel packet, including tickets for a private jet. The jet tickets should look official, the entire packet, as far as that goes. Hotel reservations, itinerary, the works. Provide a specific date and time the helicopter will arrive to take them to the jet. That travel packet should include pictures of my plane, the hotel and the beaches. Everything a travel agent would give them and more. Hell, when you decide, let me know and I'll have my advertising people take care of the whole thing for you. Having the trip already set up for the Cambridges will make refusal much more difficult."

The men had walked on for a couple of blocks, when Wainwright suddenly burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Bill wondered aloud.

Wainwright stopped to stare at his brother Alpha. "Oh, something just occurred to me. I'm just a wee bit glad this came back to bite you in the ass."

"Me? What did I do?" the pilot asked.

"Well, I seem to remember a plane that went down and trapped my ass in it. Somebody I know wouldn't leave me there, and that person was hurt as badly as I was — much worse in the end. That person," he said, tapping Bill on the shoulder, "pushed that panel back off my legs and carried me from the plane — literally. Then covered me with his body when the fuel tanks went. His back and legs were burned horribly, but he wouldn't take a fucking dime from me."

"You paid all my bills though, and provided round-the-clock limo service for Jill if she needed to go somewhere; had meals catered. You took care of my family while I was in the hospital..."

"Oh, bullshit, I just rented a suite for Jill at the hospital when you were in the ICU, and a few other minor things."

" ... And the VIP suite for us when I was released from the intensive care unit to go to a supposed regular room."

"So what, it was just a little money ... Money is nothing; you almost gave your life for me."

Madison frowned. "It was my duty to stay and get my passenger out. I couldn't leave without you, and you know it. Let's not make a mountain out of that proverbial molehill. Besides, we've been over this before."

"Yeah, well, the situation was hopeless, yet you managed, somehow, to get me free. I can still hear that jet fuel hissing as it dripped on something hot. If it had taken another ten or fifteen seconds to get out of there, we both would have died. I owe you my life, and you damn well know it. You wouldn't take anything from me, now you're up against the same thing. I think it's hilarious."

"So, what day are you and Tina getting married?" Bill asked to change an embarrassing subject.

Wainwright looked at his brother Alpha for a moment, grinned and said, "Not just Tina and me. All three of us to each other."

"Sorry. Just a slip of the tongue." Bill thought for a moment, then said, "Jill and Kathy reminded me of that last night."

"Oh?"

"They've kissed and sucked the others breasts a little when I'm making love to one or the other of them, but last night, they made love to each other, and I got to join in."

"And you..." Wainwright teased.

" ... had a damn fine time," Bill laughed. "Have yours..."

"Not yet, other than a little kissing and sucking each others breasts on occasion, like you say, but always when I'm making love to one of them. But Margaret tells me that is going to change on our wedding night."

"Tina isn't going to be alone with you on your wedding night?"

"Tina tells me she wants Margaret there too. I tried to tell Tina that it would be her special night, but she won't hear of it. She says she's going to make love to both of us that night, and that's obviously going to include girl-girl, too."

"Well, my brother Alpha, all I can say is it was the hottest thing I've ever seen, and I hope they'll do it again very soon."

The two men walked through the passageway from the back parking lot of the motel to the front where they noticed their women coming down the stairs. "Looks like our timing was perfect."

Bill, smiling, waved to the women. "And I'm starving. There definitely will be some snacks in our motel room tonight. When are we leaving?"

Wainwright stopped and turned to face his pilot. "I arranged to have the restaurant owner cater breakfast at our place in the morning. I intend to touch base with Cambridge and his wife and answer any questions they might have. Then I'm going to leave it with Tingle so we can return to the Retreat. We don't want to risk being late for the first wedding. Hanes and the two nurses are on for tomorrow night, unless they've changed the schedule."

"I'll pick up Clarence and we'll get the helicopter ready while you're having your meeting."

But Wainwright was shaking his head. "I would prefer that you and your women attend the meeting with us. I'll tell Tingle to only bring two of his people so there will be plenty of room at the conference table for my family and yours. I've invited the town council members, also. Tingle will have one of his people run Reed out to the helicopter so it will be ready when our conference is over."

-------

Pastor Luther Cambridge and his wife, Megan, sat at their kitchen table as they finished their breakfast. Megan got up, poured them a second cup of coffee, put the carafe back in the coffeemaker and reseated herself. As she fixed her coffee, she watched her husband.

"Staring out that window isn't going to fix whatever you're worrying about, Baby," she quietly said. "I know you didn't sleep well last night. Why don't you share your thoughts with me?"

Cambridge let out a sigh. "Sorry. I, uh ... Honey, do you remember when Mr. Tingle called me aside while you were talking to that woman after our meeting finished last night?"

"Sure."

Luther met his wife's eyes. "Well, he offered me a job."

She smiled at him. "I was expecting that."

Luther obviously had not anticipated her answer. "You expected him to offer me a job? But..."

"Mr. Tingle and his people will need to be in contact with the Mayor throughout this whole thing. He's probably figured out by now that the town council will do whatever you tell them. Tingle can't stay in contact with you while you're sleeping days and working an hour away from town at night. Besides, he's here to develop ideas to revitalize our town, which means jobs for everyone who wants them. You have donated your time to the town and it has never paid you a dime. Why shouldn't you have the first job?"

"He said that the job might also involve an eventual position in human resources — hiring people and such — and I would receive training for it."

"So, why the long face?"

"He said the job would begin as a liaison between his group and the town council, and generally the people here, but ... if I took the job, it would look like ... I don't know ... maybe that it would be a conflict of interest, or something. It might seem as if I were on their side, I guess. A preacher can't have that."

"So when did we choose up sides?" she said with a little grin. "I thought we would all be on the same side. They're here to revitalize our economy, create jobs for all of us who want them, and train us to market the products we produce, if I understand Mr. Tingle correctly. Where does that say anything about sides? If anyone complains about a possible conflict of interest, tell them they can have the Mayor's job; see how they like it. You would be good in a liaison position. You know everyone in the town, and most everyone in the county. Anyone with any sense at all trusts you, and would trust you whether you were Mayor or not."

As her husband started to say something, she motioned for him to wait. "Baby, I believe them. And ... I believe this all truly started when we helped Jill. She and her husband are obviously best friends with Mr. Wainwright. We spent all that time on the Internet reading everything about him that we could find. He has his hand into so many things, but not once did he say anything self-serving or bragging about himself in any of those interviews we watched. He always gave credit to someone else. You can bet if there were anything bad about him, those news people would dig it up and shout it out. Sure he'll make money, but so will the town and everyone here. Right now, the town is gasping its last breath. Almost anything would be better than what we have now. This man obviously knows how to make money. We need to listen to him and allow him to do it for us."

Luther was shaking his head. "We gave a measly five hundred dollars to a stranger who was in trouble. It was a lot of money to us, because I barely make enough to keep us going, but still, it wasn't that much in the grand scheme of things. We helped her a little bit; we've done things like that many times. What was so special about this time? How could so little wind up meaning so much?"

"So I have to lecture you on Divine Providence? My husband who preaches that God sees everything — knows everything. The man who goes to his knees to God every day, hmmm?

"Jill turned off at our exit. She hit something on the road that damaged her car. You were there in minutes. Just happened to be driving by. I don't know what was wrong with her, but her husband is absolutely convinced we saved her life, and Mr. Wainwright seems to be in total agreement with him. He surely acted that way after the meeting last night. So maybe God had Jill turn at the exit where she could get help. You preach it, so why don't you believe it when it happens to you? Trouble is that you've spent your life helping other people, but you can't accept help yourself. Maybe God is just paying you back for the things you've done for others throughout your life."

"You've done as much for people as I have, Meg. I'm nothing special."

"Then I vote you take the job, and I also vote we take that vacation, if Mr. Madison is still offering it. We might have to put it off until things settle down around here, but I think we need to tell Mr. Madison and Jill that we would be flattered to accept their gift. Daniel would be tickled to preach a couple of Sundays while we're gone, particularly if we let him know a few weeks ahead of time."

Cambridge let out a long sigh. "I'll have to do some praying about this — a lot of praying."

His wife got up to sit in his lap, hugged and kissed him. "I wouldn't have expected any less, My Darling. We'll do what God tells you to do."

THE RETREAT

Jeff and Art, each lost in his own thoughts, were sitting on the hallway floor leaning back against the wall just outside Hope's suite. When Diana, Arlene, Jennie and Hope came out, Art jumped to his feet, Jeff standing with a more leisurely pace.

The women stopped. After a slight pause, Hope looked to Diana, who smiled back at her. The girl turned back to Art and took another step forward. "I ... want to apologize..." she started.

But Art raised his hand slightly, shaking his head. "No apology necessary from you. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I pushed you too hard."

"You didn't," she denied, "but I'm going to take your suggestion and take a day or two off, if you don't mind. Seeing his face just brought ... everything back." Startling Art, Hope stepped forward and hugged him. "I'm sorry. You did nothing wrong. I just acted like a baby."

"No you didn't," he denied. "You tell me when you're ready. But you take all the time you need, understand?" he said as he pushed her gently back from himself, his hands on her shoulders as he looked into her eyes.

"Hope," the Prime said, "I'm sure we'll be able to locate him from that excellent sketch you made. When we do, he won't hurt anyone ever again. You have my word."

"Yes, Prime," she said, startling Jeff.

"Enough of this," Diana said, laughter in her voice as she took Hope's hand. "We have wedding preparations to finish."

With Diana holding Hope's right hand, Jennie holding her left, and Arlene following, the four walked quickly away. Just before she turned the corner, Arlene looked back and gave her father the high sign.

"Told you Diana would fix it," the Prime said with pride. "Woman has more brains in her big toe than most people have in their heads."

Art answered a lot more seriously than Jeff expected, "I'm beginning to believe that — really believe that."

"She's been my rock practically ever since I met her."

The men conversed for a couple of minutes longer, then Art left to find Sandra and Bobby.

-------

Later, Jeff met his Queen in the hallway as she left the kitchen. "Got time to talk?" he asked.

"I thought you might want to," she said with an odd smile. "Would you like to use the alcove on the front side, so we can look out that way?"

Jeff didn't really want to go that far, but... "Sure, that'll work," he said, taking her hand as they started down the hall.

When they got to the alcove on the second floor overlooking the front of the retreat, Diana stood gazing out at the snow-covered landscape.

Standing behind her, he put his arms around his Queen. "Di I..." he began.

But Diana was shaking her head. "Let's wait for Arlene. She'll be here in a minute."

Jeff started to reply that Arlene couldn't possibly know where they were, when he remembered his women always knew where he was. He didn't dwell on the seeming implication that Arlene also, somehow, knew where her mother was. Raising his arms from his wife's belly to her breasts, he gently squeezed them, then tugged lightly on her nipples.

Before the Prime could say anything, Arlene came down the hall pushing a serving cart. "I didn't mean for this to..." he started, but didn't finish his sentence.

Arlene smiled at her father as she poured three cups of coffee, adding half and half and artificial sweetener to two of the cups. She handed Jeff his cup of black coffee, then gave her mother hers. Taking the remaining cup, she sat to the left of her father. Diana sat on the other side of him.

"So talk," Diana said, her countenance still inscrutable.

Jeff had the distinct impression that all this was almost ... choreographed. "Di, I smelled your milk, strongly, when you came out of Hope's suite. The smell was strong enough to make me think you had either nursed someone or had used your pump very recently. You too, Baby," he directed at Arlene. "I don't think the two of you chose Hope's suite to express your milk, so what's going on?"

Diana sipped from her cup, glancing over at her daughter. Jeff noted that both women bore odd expressions on their faces.

The Prime sighed. "Look, Baby. I don't need any more wives..."

"Who said anything about wives?" Diana quietly returned.

Jeff was beginning to get frustrated, but he didn't want to fuss at his Queen, either. "Look, we all three know that your milk is laden with pheromones. Little One says that's what helps our wives bond to you..."

"And?" Diana asked.

"I don't want any more wives, and in addition, Hope isn't quite sixteen yet. She isn't even legal at this point."

Diana smiled at her husband. "So, you think I picked Hope to be your next wife?"

Jeff was no one's fool; he heard the slight inflection in her voice and began to tread even more carefully. "Di, our wives nurse you from time to time. Well, a little sometimes when we're all making love, but Hope isn't a part of us..."

"Exactly," Diana returned before he could go on.

"But you nursed her, right?"

"Absolutely," Diana said, trying to hold back a smile.

"But, I don't want any more wives," he repeated, hoping there wasn't a whine in there somewhere.

"And I respect that," his Queen agreed.

"But the pheromones..."

" ... are not your pheromones," his Queen finished. "I wasn't trying to seduce Hope, and I certainly wasn't trying to bind her to you. I bound her to me. Look around you, my Prime. All the women in this Retreat are bound to me, well other than Alesha and the construction workers, although the workers will be shortly, I suspect. You are the Alpha's Prime. Our Prime also, but I'm the Prime's Queen. I think the women are bound to me to some extent just because I'm your Queen — the Prime's Queen — and ... they're bound to me, in part, because of my pheromones. I can't detect them or deliberately project them as you can, but there is something that makes all these women defer to me. But it's more than that, it's not as if I enslave them. We just all get along fabulously.

"Hope's emotions have been on a roller coaster since she got here. Logically, I imagine she knows she's safe. She should have been safe with her father as well, but look what he did to her. Even though there are many of us here, she's basically alone. All our extended family is married or soon going to be. She sleeps alone — alone with her memories and nightmares of what has happened to her."

Diana sighed, but continued, "Little One told you what the Prime and Queen thing was in her society. And we've already agreed there are parallels here. I do know that Hope felt as if she didn't belong here, and now, after what's just happened in her suite, she does. She knows that I love her and that I care for her, and will protect her. Every woman or girl here knows that. She just needed to feel that way, too."

"So, you had no intention of making her another wife for me?" Jeff asked, wondering how he had gotten on what was beginning to feel more and more like very shaky ground.

"I'm not saying she won't ever be. But what I did this morning was mothering — nurturing — a lost little girl. Jeff, stop and think. Her father whored her out for more than a year — maybe longer. It apparently started slowly, just a weekend every now and then, but the frequency increased, particularly during the last months. She told us about some of those nightmares, and they're sickening."

Jeff was frowning. "But she has to know we care for her. Hell, Art almost got himself killed protecting her."

"Helen says logic doesn't work with what is going on in Hope's mind. Feelings do. Now she is absolutely positive that I love her. Jennie and Arlene were part of this too. Arlene didn't nurse her, but they were there, holding her while she nursed me. We all cried together as she nursed. She finally went to sleep with my nipple still in her mouth, with all of us petting her and telling her how much we loved her."

"Oh, shit. Di, I was just ... I guess I sounded ... arrogant, or something."

"Or something," Arlene said, giggling.

Diana leaned over to kiss her husband, almost spilling her coffee in the process. "I've never heard of a man fighting so hard to not get strange pussy," she chuckled.

"She's a kid who has been stomped on. I can't..." the Prime began.

"So had Nat, Nicki and Whitney," Diana offered. "Their rapes were only for a few days, though. Hope's were for more than a year with multiple assholes who did anything they wanted to her. Now, she not only knows she's loved, she has felt our love for her. And more than that, my pheromones have become an actual part of her. Sometimes knowing intellectually just isn't enough. Arlene, Jennie and I were holding hands and because of that, Hope felt our connection — felt our love for her. She's part of us now, not just a welcome visitor who might one day wear out her welcome."

Arlene put her cup down. With a grin on her face, she told her Dad, "Take that foot out of your mouth so I can kiss you." Giggling, she stood, took his half-empty cup and set it on the serving cart, then quickly sat in his lap. Turning to push her breasts against his chest, she took his face gently in her hands and kissed him, the kiss gradually becoming more intense.



-------

Chapter 164

Jennie walked into the alcove just as Arlene sat in her father's lap. When the kiss was over, the young wife stood, her eyes locked with Jeff's. "There's a suite right there," she said, pointing vaguely.

Diana came to her feet. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

Jeff grinned as he stood, "Well, it's not as if I'm going to complain."

The Queen walked behind, a smile on her face, as Jeff, with Jennie on one side and Arlene on the other, their arms around the Prime, started for the suite.

As soon as they were in the bedroom of the suite, Jennie grabbed Jeff's shirt and pulled it over his head, while Arlene attacked his pants, yanking both pants and shorts down to his ankles as Jeff toed his shoes off. Diana stood chuckling as her husband's cock bounced around when Arlene pushed him backward onto the bed and stripped his pants and shorts the rest of the way off. "Get rid of his socks. He looks ridiculous wearing nothing but socks," the Queen laughed.

Each young wife pulled off a sock while their eyes remained locked to Jeff's cock as if they had never seen it before. All three women were nude in little more time than it had taken them to disrobe their husband. Almost immediately, Jennie and Arlene began taking turns sucking his cock, while Diana kissed him. "Don't want any more women, huh?" she teased, pulling back just enough to talk.

"Di, I..." But he didn't get to finish what he was going to say, because she shifted and pushed a swollen nipple into his mouth.

"I still have milk left, Husband; Hope didn't drink it all. But just for your information, I never even thought about getting sexually excited when she nursed me. I just wanted to convince her that she was safe and loved."

Jeff mumbled something, but Diana squeezed her breast and pushed it harder into his mouth, encouraging him to suck with greater force. She had always been able to orgasm with Jeff sucking her breasts, but Little One's enhancement had enabled all of his wives to have multiple, and more intense orgasms, both vaginal and breast-stimulated.

Time drifted onward. Diana felt yet another orgasm approaching on the heels of the last, her whole nervous system singing. She faintly heard the whimpers she was making as she stared down at her husband's face. She could feel the tingling sensation in her nipple as her milk flowed through it and into the mouth of the man she loved. There seemed to be a direct connection between her nipples and her vagina. The orgasm built and her vision tunneled, everything but the sight of his face leaving her yet again. She felt his hand pulling on her other nipple, and suddenly she was there once more. She could feel his love for her and felt the amusement of her sister-wives at the sounds she was making. As they gently stroked her back, she could feel their love for her, also. Her orgasm continued, building higher and higher, her body beginning to shake. She tried to tell him how much she loved him, but she was unable to form words. He suddenly changed to her other breast, his mouth sucking even harder. She was having a hard time getting enough air. "Oh, Jeff," she again tried to say, but only a mumble emerged. There was a ringing in her ears. Everything gradually faded away.

She awakened much later to her world gently rocking. As her mind began to merge with reality, she realized that Jennie was lying beside her, facing in the other direction, though. Her sister-wife's pussy was swollen and flushed, drooling semen, and even in sleep, Jennie was smiling.

Jeff had Arlene on her hands and knees as he stood beside the bed, fucking her from behind, Arlene's face only a foot or so away from her mother's. Arlene's breasts, her long nipples flushed, were bouncing and wobbling as Jeff pounded into her. She's going to walk funny after this, Diana thought as Jeff reached forward to grab Arlene's breasts, his pace picking up as he neared completion, her sexy little grunts accompanying his strokes.

The Prime gave Arlene several short, very rapid strokes, slammed in and held. Arlene's eyes popped open wide as she felt his sperm gush into her, her orgasm peaking as his did. Her warbling wail lasted until she ran out of breath and fell onto the bed, Jeff managing to turn her to her side to keep from falling on her as they both collapsed onto the bed, his cock still in her as he held her from behind.

Even though she was out, Arlene shivered as aftershocks passed through her.

Diana smiled at her husband as he pulled his cock out of his daughter. "She's going to walk funny after that."

"Yeah, I guess I got a little too enthused. I can have Little One take the soreness away if Arlene wants."

"And how many times have any of us taken you up on that offer?" Diana asked sweetly.

"Not many," Jeff admitted.

Diana's eyes sparkled as she laughingly said, "The old badge of honor thing still affects us. Walking a little funny speaks to how well our husband services us, and ... to how much of a man he is," she finished, her voice quieting.

There was a moment of silence, "Di, I love you. I love all my wives, but I know what you do for me — for us. I'm sorry I didn't trust you about Hope. She's just too ... vulnerable, I guess. But ... I really do think I have enough wives. Somehow, I just figured you were lining up another one for me."

"And are you displeased with any of your wives so far?"

"Di, you know better than that. If I had planned out my life — uh, I guess fantasized would be a better word — I could never have envisioned anything that would compare with what I have now. Baby, you look like you're twenty, and you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Even lying there on your back, your breasts stand straight up without the slightest sag. You have always been incredibly beautiful, but somehow, Little One has enhanced even that beauty."

Diana smiled at him, then leaned across Arlene to touch her lips to his for a moment. "I love you. Uh, Jeff, you didn't trip my switch when you nursed my breasts, did you?"

"No. I was enjoying myself, and we seemed to almost become ... one. I know that's a cliché or something, but we seemed..."

" ... to become one," Diana repeated for him. "Cliché or not, it fits too well to call what happened anything else. It's happened before, but you were always inside me when it did. Why did it happen now with you just nursing my breasts?"

"I'll ask Little One later, but I'm almost certain she'll just say that the enhancement process is continuing. And Di, remember, Little One was apparently created inside that mountain to be the Healer for the commander of the Ship. Her knowledge of the race that created her, or caused her to be created, is limited to her database. If I understand correctly, they left the AI to build the Ship and the Healers, then went away to fight their war. For some reason, they never returned. And, I still have no real idea how long ago that happened. It could be a hundred years, or a million — or more. When I ask Little One about it, I'm deluged with information that concerns both time and dimensions. I ... seem to understand it when I sit in that command chair and my brain meshes with the Ship's, but I'm not at all certain when I try to remember later. Whatever the time span, the AI followed her directive and spent that time building the Ship around herself and enhancing her own mind. My gut feeling is that this war happened a very long time ago, and may even be continuing. I do know that the Ship is studying the scientists as they try to study her. Guess who's winning in that exchange?"

Diana leaned over her sleeping daughter to kiss Jeff again. "We need to wake your wives so we can help out with lunch."

MIDVILLE, WYOMING

There were three sections of pews in Pastor Cambridge's church, other than the choir's section, which was situated to the left of the podium on the low stage. Two women in their sixties, gray hair coifed, and dressed in very conservative clothing, sat on the second pew from the back in the center section. Normally, they would have chosen a pew several rows closer to the front, but even though it was still a few minutes before the service was scheduled to begin, the church was almost full. A good percentage of the crowd had come to get a look at the people who were going to put Midville back on the map. Raymond Elks sat one pew in front of the older women, obstinately saving the remainder of the pew for Bill and his women.

When the three walked in, accompanied by Wainwright and his mates, Elks motioned to them. Jill sat between her husband and Elks, then Kathy to Bill's right. Wainwright sat with his women on either side of him farther down the pew.

Due to their being scrunched together in the pew, Bill put his arms around his wives. Shortly, Wainwright, becoming tired of having his arms hunched down by his sides, put his arms on the back of the pew as Bill was doing. Without thinking, the women snuggled closer to their mate.

"Well, I never," one of the older women said.

"I cannot believe that," the other responded.

Neither of the women was able to hear as well as she once could, so they anticipated no problems with their "whispered" comments. Elks leaned forward as if he were adjusting his boot, but the hand clapped over his mouth as he shook with suppressed laughter gave him away to Jill, and a few seconds later to the rest of the group sitting on their pew.

"They have their arms around their... women," one of the biddies proclaimed as if her friend couldn't see for herself.

"And in church," the other agreed. This, despite the fact that several other men in the congregation had an arm around their wives as well.

"I guess it's because they're all rich. They can probably act any way they want to in the big city, but it is ridiculous for them to come in here like this and blatantly parade their sluts in front of us. Do you suppose they all pile up in one bed together?"

Kathy's and Jill's faces were flushed bright red, and Bill's wasn't much behind. The women were embarrassed, but Bill was pissed. Wainwright had heard them as well, the frown on his face, obvious.

Elks slipped out of the end of the pew and abruptly sat down almost in the first biddy's lap. There was a whispered conversation — well, conversation probably doesn't fully describe the instructions Elks snapped out. The first few words started with, "You stone deaf idiots," and it went downhill from there. Elks waited for the congregation to stand for the opening song, then stepped around the end of the pew to return to his original place next to Jill.

"Thank you," she whispered to him when they sat after the prayer.

"Them two had attitudes in grammar school, and they ain't changed much in the last fifty years," he whispered back. "I apologize for the way they're actin'."

Jill squeezed his hand and reiterated, "Thanks for helping."

If any of the other people in the congregation had strong reservations about Bill's and Frank's women, they didn't voice those opinions loudly enough for any on the third pew to hear. Of course, most people, if it occurred to them at all, probably thought one was a wife and the other a sister or other relative.

The old piano, looking as if better days were well in its past, was however, in tune, and the pianist was obviously very talented. Two guitarists accompanied her, and neither of them was a slouch, either. The acoustics in the old building were excellent, and with the church packed, and the song leader choosing songs that everyone knew and enjoyed singing, the song service was impressive. Adding to that was a beautiful song by a quartet that sang a cappella, and was the best that Bill's group and Frank's group had ever heard — bar none.

Frank made a mental note to discuss the quartet with Tingle. Maybe they could be worked into a free show, like the fake gunfight. Hmmm, an old style barbershop with the group performing in front of it might work out well. Does the barbershop have a candy-striped pole outside? Hmmm. Hot lather, razor-strop shaves. He jotted a quick note in his ever-present notebook.

-------

When Pastor Cambridge had finished his sermon, the song leader led the closing hymn, and one of the deacons stepped to the podium to end the service with a prayer. This gave Cambridge time to walk to the back of the church in order to shake hands or exchange hugs with everyone as they left, his wife standing beside him doing the same thing.

-------

Bill, Kathy and Jill sat in their SUV waiting for Cambridge to finish shaking hands with his church members. "The guy is a heck of a lot smarter than he looks," Kathy started before she abruptly stopped. "Uh, that didn't come out just the way I intended. He's a nice looking man. I certainly didn't mean it as an insult."

"I agree that he's smart," Jill chimed in. "Put him in a thousand dollar suit and a five hundred dollar pair of wingtips, and I'll bet he could hold his own almost anywhere. His sermon was only twenty-five minutes long. He built his logic step by step, and when he was done, he quit, instead of drawing things out and belaboring his point, with three or more "in closings" that don't actually close. I was impressed. I'm glad we came. And now ... I'm even more enthusiastic about helping them."

"With a decent computer system, PowerPoint, a big screen up there with him, and maybe a screen inside the pulpit so he could see what he has on the big screen behind him, he would be one heck of a preacher," Bill offered.

"Soooo?" Jill said, drawing out the word as she smiled at her husband.

"I'll get it ordered as soon as we get back to the retreat, and I'm sure Frank has someone he can send out to teach Cambridge how to use the system."

Jill, sitting in the front with her husband, leaned over to briefly touch her lips to his. "Thank you. What you're doing for these two people and their church means a lot to me."

"We are doing. Not just me," Bill corrected. "We aren't through, either," the pilot said, his voice determined. "No, we're a long way from being finished. These two people saved my wife's life. Their town is going to prosper, thanks to Frank. Luther and Megan are going to prosper, too, and whatever they hold dear to them will as well."

-------

Their meal finished, Bill, Kathy and Jill sat with Luther and Megan at their kitchen table.

Luther looked over at Bill. "I'd like to ask you a question, if you don't mind."

"Sure," the pilot responded, wondering.

"Just as the service started, I saw something, but I'm not sure what actually happened. I saw Raymond Elks suddenly get up, then reseat himself next to the Wright sisters. After the opening song and prayer, he was again sitting with you folks. I had the distinct impression he was not pleased..."

"Something of no consequence," Bill broke in.

"Apparently Raymond thought it was of consequence," Luther insisted. "Since the Wright sisters were involved, I would imagine it consisted of something self-righteous they stage whispered."

Bill sighed, deciding to not lie to the preacher. "Our pew was crowded, so Frank and I put our arms around the shoulders of our mates. There were some comments made by two ladies behind us. We meant no disrespect by our actions, and I saw a number of husbands do the same thing with their wives."

Luther took a final sip of his drink, his face taking on a tint for a few seconds, before he could fight his anger down. "It is a shame that our visitors were mistreated. I will speak with the Wrights. I apologize for their conduct. I can well imagine what they said."

"Pastor Cambridge, it was no big deal," Jill responded.

"There is certainly nothing wrong with a man putting his arm around his wife during service. The Bible teaches love, and that a man should love his wife as his own self. Putting an arm around a wife in church is an expression of that love. I certainly do it when I'm able to sit with my wife while my lay pastor preaches. I revel in it. I wish more of our members would do it. Just because you have two wives doesn't negate that. I will speak with the Wright's about their conduct in the Lord's house."

"Pastor, I wish you wouldn't..." Bill started, but didn't finish the sentence when he saw both his wives shaking their heads at him.

Cambridge went on, "A few years ago, a young man came to church with two women. When they didn't return for the next two Sundays, I found out where they lived and went to visit with them. They very graciously welcomed me into their home. When I asked why they had not returned to church, they said they had been insulted and belittled by some of our members, but none of the three would tell me who treated them badly. They never came back to church, even though I've visited with them several times since then. I have long suspected the problem arose because of the Wright sisters, but I could never be certain it was them. I did caution them, but they denied having said or done anything."

"I think they have some hearing issues," Jill said. "They probably thought they were speaking quietly."

"They shouldn't make derisive comments about anyone, particularly in church, whether they say those things loudly enough for anyone else to hear or not. They are aware that they have a hearing problem, and they knew perfectly well what they were doing. 'Judge not, that ye be not judged, '" Luther quoted. "Even if you had ten wives, it's none of their business. I am responsible for my flock. Our visitors will not be insulted in the church, of all places."

Megan stood, "Okay, why don't all of you go sit in the living room while I clean up the kitchen a bit and put the food away, then we'll give you the tour we promised."

Jill and Kathy stood. "Unh uh. No way are we not going to help. Do we toss the leftover gravy, or do you want to save it?" Kathy asked.

THE RETREAT

Diana sat on Jeff's lap in the living room as they waited for the dress shop van. The Prime kissed her neck and asked, "Do you think Jeremy is going to marry them? He wanted to know about the weddings."

"I know that Connie and Denise want to, but I think they're all stymied about money, and they're worried sick about losing their jobs, besides."

"Dave said he would hire them if things didn't work out about my buying the company."

"Yeah, but they don't know us very well. They have no real idea whether you're going to buy the company or not. Also, the women don't want Jeremy to spend his hard earned college savings on wedding dresses, and I'm pretty sure he has told Connie and Denise that wedding dresses are something he would not let them do without. He thinks it's a man's duty to buy his bride a wedding dress."

"I thought that was the father's duty."

"Neither of the women have much of a family..."

" ... and they have too much pride to let us buy the dresses, huh?"

"Exactly."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Lie a lot," his Queen said with a chuckle.

"But if..."

"I know you can't lie to an Alpha, Jeff, but I'm going to tell them it would save money if Dana takes their measurements today, since she and some of her crew will be here, anyway. She will then have the measurements on file when they can afford the dresses. I'll measure all three of them for rings while I'm at it. Then I'm going to tell Dana to go ahead and make the dresses, and I'll also order the wedding bands. When the dresses are delivered, I'll tell Jeremy and his women what I did. If they're too upset, I'll cry for them. That should, at least, shake Jeremy up. Then, if he insists, I'll make some bogus arrangement for him to pay us back. Each time they send me a check, I'll tear it up or cycle it back into their bank account. Sooner or later, I'll win.

"Connie, Denise and I think Friday night will work out fine for their wedding. They will be off for the weekend, and I imagine you'll own the business by then, anyway, or be well on your way toward buying it. We'll arrange for them to have a few days off, plus the weekend. They can stay here with us for their honeymoon, or we can finance them a trip someplace else, if they'll take it. When we got married, I would have loved to have spent time with you in this beautiful place. We didn't have any money, and we had precious little time to ourselves. Here, they can ski, snowboard, ride the snowmobiles, play games and ... fuck," she finished, laughing. "What else could they want? And ... we have Little One to cure the cystitis Connie and Denise will probably have after making love so much."

"Di, I don't know whether that's a good idea about the dresses or not. Jeremy has a lot of pride..."

"Connie and Denise are ready to do almost anything to get him. They'll figure out what I'm doing long before Jeremy does, and they'll go along with it. Connie, Denise and I have hit it off beautifully. They're going to make him fine wives. He has too much pride to accept charity, so we'll just have to call it something else."

Jeff smiled at his wife. If I did that, Jeremy would hate me, but Diana will get away with it just because she's Diana. Jeremy doesn't have a chance.

-------

The final fitting was a nonevent for Art, Sandra and Bobby. The two women merely tried on their dresses. Each dress fit perfectly, was taken off again, and was carefully hung to await the wedding. Art's tux, which he thought was a rental, fit well, also. Of course, Art didn't get to see his women in their dresses.

Jeremy, although skeptical, allowed himself to be talked into having his measurements taken for a suit, as well as Connie and Denise being measured for their dresses. His measurements were actually for a tux, but he didn't suspect that.

"Do you dress right or left?" Dana asked while kneeling in front of him to measure his inseam.

"Right or left..." Jeremy started, before he realized what she was asking. His face blazing, he barely managed to keep from stuttering, "Uh, left."

Dana even insisted on measuring his feet, although he told her what his shoe size was. She stood and closed her laptop. "The measurements will be on file when you need them," she lied, absolutely straight-faced.

Jeremy, still refusing to look her in the eye, much to Dana's amusement, said, "It might be a while before we have the money."

Dana handed him her business card. "That is absolutely no problem. Just call me when you're ready."

As they left the fitting room, Jeremy noticed that Connie and Denise seemed to be up to something, their faces were radiant, both fighting giggles. They looked as guilty as the proverbial kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. The three stopped in the hall. "You two look like you're hiding something," he accused, suppressing a chuckle as their good mood seemed to engulf him, too, "and you look awfully happy."

"We're ecstatic," Denise said. "We said something to Diana about worrying whether the deal with the company would go through, and she was emphatic that Jeff would buy it if Mr. Jackson would sell for a reasonable price. Plus, we were just measured for our wedding dresses..."

"But our wedding may be a long time in the future. Dana wouldn't even tell us what the dresses cost that you two picked out. Maybe I'll work for another year before I start back to school. That way, we'll have a little nest egg and also be able to afford the dresses."

The two women looked at each other, then took turns kissing him — really kissing him.

"What was that all about?" he asked when they finally let him go.

"That was just because we love you," Connie said.

-------

Jeff and Diana were at the back door with the construction workers as Jeremy, Connie and Denise prepared to leave.

"Call me tomorrow when you get off work," Jeff told Jeremy. "Hopefully, we'll know something by then. If it doesn't work out about your company, something else will. Remember, you're an Alpha. You, Denise and Connie are part of our clan now. We need to get back together soon so that we can discuss a lot of things". And get you blocked,  Jeff added to himself. "Also, you're invited to the weddings, of course."

Jeremy was shaking his head. "We would love to come, but by the time we get off work and get cleaned up, then make the trip, we would miss most of the wedding."

Diana spoke up, changing the subject, as Jeremy's women tried to keep their faces straight. "We put an ice chest in the back of your truck with a little something in it from us," the Queen said.

Jeremy frowned, but before he could say anything, Connie spoke up, "Thank you. You have all been so nice to us."

"You two call me," Diana said as she hugged Connie, then Denise. Turning to Jeremy, she hugged him too — a real hug that she gave only to Alphas or their women. "You have two fine women. Don't let them get away," she whispered into his ear.

"I won't," he whispered back.

Jeff and Diana stood in the doorway and watched as the three hurried to Jeremy's pickup. They didn't even glance in the back, but just quickly got into the truck to get out of the cold and gusting wind.

Diana let out a sigh as they watched the pickup start around the drive to the front, and out of sight. "We made it. I was afraid Jeremy would open the chest before he got in the truck. I didn't want to argue about the food."

Jeff chuckled. "With those light jackets and the wind, they were in a hurry to get into the truck. Looks like cold and wind won out over Jeremy's curiosity. Well done, My Bride."

Diana grabbed his hand as they started down the hall. "We put a layer of frozen vegetables across the top of the meat, but the rest of the chest is full of steaks and roasts, other than the two large packages of home-baked cinnamon rolls we also put in. I was afraid Jeremy would balk if he looked in the chest, so I told Connie and Denise what we were doing and why. They have their heads firmly on their shoulders. They hesitated a little, but when I told them how much Jeremy would be eating in the next weeks, they graciously accepted the food. Now, if the two of them can just talk him into the wedding with us supplying their clothes and a short honeymoon here, things will work out just fine."

"So Art and his women are all set for tomorrow night?"

"Yes, Sandra and Bobby looked beautiful in their dresses. Art almost had a stroke when he saw his tux, but he accepted it, saying that he would pay us back for the 'rental' when he had access to his salary. We can do with him the same way we plan to do with Jeremy. Just take his check and tear it up, or put the money back into his."

"I knew there was some reason, I married you," Jeff teased.

"Yeah," she said, giggling. "You wanted my pussy on a regular basis."

"Well, there is that, too," the Prime agreed, dodging her mock blow to his shoulder.



-------

Chapter 165


MIDVILLE, WYOMING

The tour of the area completed, Bill and Luther sat in the preacher's living room sipping coffee. The women had left to go visit someone. "I hate to pressure you, but have you and Megan decided anything about the vacation?" Bill asked.

A slight frown flicked across Luther's face. "I ... I suppose I still feel guilty for even considering such an expensive ... gift from someone I barely know."

"You know my wife, and the gift comes from her, too. And she and I both know you saved her life. I'm not at liberty to expound on that, Luther, but you did save her life."

"We only gave her a couple of meals, a place to rest up for a while, and a little bit of money. We helped her. Saying we saved her life is far beyond..."

Frustration welled up in Madison, but he knew better than to push the block. "Dammit, Luther. You did. I can not tell you anything more, but she would have died in a couple of days. She barely survived as it was. And don't start about hospitals and doctors, or how her health was saved. Please,  just believe me."

Luther hesitated for a moment, staring at Bill, reading the sincerity on his face. Finally, "There was another person who helped."

"Yeah, Megan told my wives. The mechanic who repaired Jill's car. That's being taken care of in several ways. But I need for you to take us up on the vacation. As I mentioned before, when you took Jill in, she overheard you and your wife talking about the vacation the two of you had been planning all your married lives. Heck, you don't even need a passport to go to Hawaii, unless you continue on to a foreign country from there. You tell me where else, and we'll take you there in that same luxury jet. It belongs to Frank, but he's already said it is available for me to use any time. He can even expedite the passport process if you and Megan should need one."

Luther let out a chuckle. "Okay. Okay. We've considered your offer."

Bill didn't notice the slight grin on Luther's face, but instead, went on. "I'm told you have DSL here, right?"

"Well, I don't. I can't afford it anymore, but we have it in the town, if that's what you mean."

"How did that happen? You only have the one cell tower. I really didn't expect DSL?"

"I think the phone company had to bring the cable through to go on to the next city, so we just lucked up, I guess."

DSL will do until Tingle gets things updated here. "Frank does a lot of his business from a mountain retreat using videoconferencing. It would be no big deal to set up a videoconference from Hawaii with your town council here. We have several possible options in setting that up. Each council member will be given laptops tomorrow. So will you and Megan, of course. Plus, we'll set up a big screen in the council hall. To keep the council from bugging you on your vacation, you could schedule a videoconference with them at a time of your choosing. Get up each morning, go for a walk on the beach, have breakfast, then check in with the town council. And of course, there are always smart phones..."

"We had to give our cell up. We couldn't afford it any longer..." Luther started.

"Tingle already has one for you, your wife and the town council members — unlimited coverage, of course, and we'll renew the contract when the time is up. He'll give the phones to you when he passes out the laptops at your meeting in the morning."

Luther just looked at the pilot.

Bill continued, "I'm going to be tied up all this week, but after next weekend, the plane will be free any time you decide to go." And we'll stop off in Denver for a wardrobe for you and your wife, then spend a night at the Retreat where you'll get a late-night visit from Jeff and Little One. You saved an Alpha's mate. My mate. And, by damn, I will do my best to repay you.

Bill took another sip of coffee, the grin back on his face. "My wives and I live with a millionaire on a mountaintop. He won't let me spend a dime on anything while I'm in his home. I fly a billionaire who picks up the tab for everything while my wives and I are with him. The plane trip will cost me nothing, and the cost of the vacation itself is of no consequence. I just need you to say yes before I wind up pulling my hair out."

"Yes," Cambridge quietly said.

"It's not going to..." Bill began. "Yes?" he asked, thinking he had not heard correctly.

"Megan and I decided last night, late. Very late."

Bill pulled out his phone and hit a speed dial number. A couple of seconds later, Jill answered the call with, "I know. Megan just told us."

THE RETREAT

Jeff and Art were sitting in the living room as Diana came in. "Hope?" the Prime questioned.

"Arlene is keeping her busy. I think Hope is still a little embarrassed for the things she said to you, Art. I suspect she's a little worried that you're still mad at her."

"I'm not mad at her — never was," Art said. "It just tears me apart to think what that ... uh, guy did to her. As far as that's concerned, I'm still having problems about her father prostituting her. That is just ... sick. Getting his brains splattered over that wall was too easy for him. He should have had to suffer as she did. And ... she's probably right. The guy she sketched, if he is a diplomat, will never be prosecuted. Probably, the worst thing that will happen to him — if anything happens at all — is that he'll be sent back home. And that won't happen unless there is a lot of publicity and it results in public pressure on the government to do something. Which means that Hope's name would be in the news practically forever."

"You're positive he was one of the slavers?" Jeff asked.

Art sat up straighter. "Oh, yeah. It was a couple of days before the shootout. I never heard his name, but we were expecting him. He came in a private jet. We met him at the airport and took him to a supposedly very important meeting with my boss — the guy who got in the gunfight with Hope's father. Then we took this guy back to the jet afterward. My boss was going to buy Hope and send her to the guy that Hope sketched. I think she was going to be his f ... uh toy. Excuse me Diana."

Diana waved the almost-slip aside and turned to her husband. "Baby, she literally hates this person. She tells me her father sold her to a number of men, most of them fifty years old or more, but this man is younger. Some of them were rough with her, but this guy deliberately hurt her. Hurt her badly. She says he was arrogant and brutal, and more than once bragged that the US could never do anything to him. Can't something..."

Diana's eyes were leaking, but Jeff wasn't sure whether it was sadness or anger that produced the tears. The Queen sat down hard on his lap, putting her arms around his neck and her face beside his, her tears dripping onto his neck. He pulled her to him, rubbing her back. "Easy, Baby. Art and I sent the picture and his comments to the General. I also called Whitworth to make sure there were no slip-ups. He'll confirm everything we told him before any action is taken, of course, but if what we sent Whitworth checks out, this bastard won't be bragging much longer. He will get what's coming to him."

The Queen sat back up, wiping her eyes with her hand. Taking a breath, she looked at her husband. "One of us will be with her at night for awhile. I think she's had a little too much time alone, particularly with all the things that have happened to her. She knows our immediate family from Georgia, of course, but there are a lot of us here that are basically total strangers to her. Intellectually, I think she knows she's welcome here — is part of us. But her mother disappeared, and her brother probably found out what was going on. For whatever reason, he suddenly went to live with his uncle, and her father forced her to be a whore. Somehow, she has to trust us — know that she's forever safe here — that what happened to her will never happen again. It's easy enough to say it won't, but feeling it is probably something she hasn't accomplished just yet."

"Di, we've told her she's family. I've welcomed her home..."

" ... And, she knows that. But knowing, and feeling safe might not be the same thing. Maybe if she belonged to one of you..."

Jeff was shaking his head, "No, it's way too early for that, plus she isn't sixteen, yet."

Art was also shaking his head, "Don't look at me. I have two women to marry tomorrow night, and that scares the crap out of me, as it is. And I barely know Hope."

"But you're her hero," Diana insisted.

"I'm not a hero. Anybody else in my shoes would have done the same thing. And like Jeff says, she's too young."

Diana sighed. "Oh, I agree that it's too soon, but something has to happen. She needs somebody to hold her at night, someone to get her mind off all the bad things that have happened to her."

"The last time the General talked to Whatley — the SAC in Atlanta — he said the FBI had not been able to find a trace of Hope's mother for a couple of months prior to the shootout. She just disappeared. Chances are the slaver organization did something with her. Whitworth's people haven't had any luck either," the Prime said.

With a look of disgust, Diana continued, "From what I gather from Hope, her mother did nothing to restrain her father from taking her with him every weekend. Toward the end, he was using Hope almost every day."

"So how is someone staying with her at night going to work?"

"Jennie will sleep with her for a few nights, since they're sisters. Then Melissa, since they've known each other all their lives, then Arlene for the same reason. After that, Hope should be okay with any of the rest of your younger wives. Each will stay several nights in a row. Hope will know all your younger wives much better by the time everyone has cycled through their session with her. We'll continue it until she decides she doesn't need us anymore. The emphasis will be to make her feel like she's part of us. It certainly won't be as good as you or Art taking her for a wife, but I think it's the best we can do under the circumstances."

Jeff's frown had deepened. "So one of my wives won't be in our bed for the foreseeable future."

"Well," Diana returned, "'foreseeable future' is a bit more than we expect. But yeah, this could last for several months. Jeff, she's dreaming about those awful men. When she wakes up, there isn't anyone there to comfort her. No one. Helen is working with her, but their sessions have barely begun. Hope isn't nuts or anything. Heck, considering what's happened to her, she's doing really well. She just needs someone to talk to and comfort her when she has one of her dreams — nightmares — of these beasts raping her. I would be looking for them with a gun, but she doesn't have that option. I'll be spending time with her, also. My time will be mostly in the daytime to begin with, but I intend to spend a few nights with her as well. When she drank my milk, we bonded. Not the way your other wives and I are bonded, but still, there's a connection there. I can't take her mother's place, but the bond is similar now. She knows I won't let anything happen to her, but she needs more than that."

Jeff looked over at Art, who raised an eyebrow.

Diana leaned back a little as she grinned at her husband. "We'll make sure you have extra alone-time with whichever wife is going to spend the night with Hope."

"I didn't mean..."

"Suurrrre,  you didn't," she teased, with just a hint of sarcasm. "And you can get that smirk off your face, too," she said to Art without bothering to look back at him. "We might get around to Sandra and Bobby before this is over."

How did she know? Art thought, even as Diana answered his unvoiced question.

"Men are predictable. Remember that, and you and your new wives will get along just fine."

Diana stood, leaned over and kissed her husband, then turning to Art, she kissed him on the cheek and sashayed out the door.

The men were silent for a time, finally Art looked over at the Prime. "Your wife is..."

"Yeah," Jeff said, quietly, "she is."

Diana stuck her head back in the door. "Art. You might think about finding Sandra and Bobby and telling them bye. They aren't going to sleep with you the night before their wedding, and you can't see them tomorrow until they walk down the aisle."

"Wait," Art got out. "We don't go all the way. We..."

"Oh, we know that, but absence makes the heart grow fonder. We've moved you to a suite on another hall. Go say bye to them, and they'll show you where you're going to sleep tonight." Diana smiled at him and was gone.

"Tradition," the Prime offered.

"Tradition," Art repeated, trying to not grind his teeth.

-------

Later, Diana, Sandra and Bobbie sat in the nurses' sitting room, Sandra and Bobby side-by-side on the couch, and Diana in a seat directly across the coffee table from them.

"I take it that Art wasn't pleased with his sleeping arrangements for the night," the Queen chuckled.

"We think he was looking forward to the blowjobs he thought he was going to get tonight," Bobby said with a giggle.

"We tried to tell him we only get to be brides once," Sandra offered. "We've waited a long time, and aside from relieving ourselves of our hymens, we've never been with another man, and other than Art, we never will be."

Diana took a sip of her coke. "Those words are probably truer than you realize. As you're well aware, many marriages don't last, but yours is guaranteed to."

"Yeah, we love him..." Bobby began.

The Queen was shaking her head. "No, there's more to this than you probably think. It took us a while to realize it, and as our enhancement progressed, we've felt it more, but it's still hard to communicate properly. We've told you that Jeff is a Prime..."

"And you're his Queen," Sandra offered.

" ... And I'm his Queen," Diana agreed, "The clan Queen, I guess you could say. I'm not sure how to say this, but when you stand before us and vow to us to be Art's wives forever, and he vows to be your husband forever, something happens." Frustrated, Diana hesitated a second before going on. "It's something that's hard to describe. It has to be felt. But when we pronounce you man and wives, and touch you, that bond falls into place forever. Once you feel it, you'll know it's forever. That bond can not be broken. There can't be a divorce when you make your vows to a Prime and his Queen, and they declare you married. Little One told us that, but when you feel it, you'll know she speaks truth. This is forever,  Ladies. I assure you that it bears only a faint resemblance to what society has always called marriage. Tuesday morning, you'll know this is forever."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Sandra asked/stated.

"In my husband's words, 'Serious as a heart attack.'"

-------

Jeff and the General were talking on the secure SAT phone. "You and your women are going to be here for the wedding tomorrow, right?" the Prime asked Whitworth.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Why don't you stay the week with us? I'm sure Ellen and Barbara would like to be here for all the weddings."

"They've been talking about that. You sure we wouldn't be a nuisance staying the whole week?"

"You know better than that."

"Well then, we'll leave first thing in the morning. I'm sure Ellen and Barbara will want to get there in time to help set things up."

"Speaking of that, why don't we shorten the trip time? I need to talk to the Ship."

Whitworth leaned back in his seat, propping his feet on his desk. "So what do I do? Just go out there and tell that thing that I need a ride? I'm damn sure not going to sit in one of those command couches and get my brain fried."

Jeff let out a chuckle. "No. The Ship made some changes in Little One while she was in the healing chamber with Arlene. Little One says she can — hell, I don't know what the correct term is — patch me through to the Ship. I suppose that's as good a term as any. At any rate, I think I can communicate enough to get the point across."

"So, she'll be waiting on us? How about nine o'clock tomorrow morning?"

Jeff let out a sigh. "That's reasonable, except ... I have no frickin' idea how to tell her nine o'clock. She doesn't keep time the way we do. Apparently the telepathic race that built her had the dimensions built into the way they viewed time. I ... oh shit, this sounds weird, but I seem to be able to understand it when I sit in that command couch and become part of the AI's brain, but the dimensions elude me for the most part when I'm not part of her."

"That's about as clear as mud. You do realize that, don't you?"

Jeff let out a chuckle. "You should be on this side of it. I can well imagine what those pilots who volunteered to fly her felt. But Arlene sat in the second command chair, and the Ship wanted her to sit there. The Ship didn't intend to cause what happened to those pilots. The couches were designed for a Prime and his second. Of course, she now knows what happens to a non-telepathic mind when she tries to have that mind merge with hers, so anyone who shouldn't be there won't be linked. She let Kayla sit there, at my direction, and even gave her a very partial access."

"So you're going to call the Ship in the morning?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll call her a few minutes before nine in the morning and ask her to come to the Retreat, and bring you and your wives with her."

There was a moment of silence, then, "Uh, Colonel, I had rather you not word your communication with her exactly like that. Perhaps you could say something like: provide transportation for us. I shudder to imagine what that thing is capable of doing if you ordered her to bring us."

Jeff chuckled. "She's a lot smarter than that, General. I'll be careful with my 'wording, ' anyway."

Whitworth came back with, "Well, one thing is for certain, my wives will be pleased to not have to go through the process we usually have to go through in order to maintain our secrecy for the trip. Just step aboard and we're practically there."

Jeff chuckled. "Darned good limo service, huh, General? See you a little after nine in the morning."

-------

Lieutenant Mayfield (the commander of Jeff's security) was walking down the hallway of the once ski lodge. Acknowledging his radio, "Mayfield."

"Sir, the General is on the com."

"Put him through to the Ready Room," Mayfield answered as he spun left and stepped through the door just in time to see the big screen there come live, showing the General in his office, his feet propped on his desk.

"Sir!" Mayfield said, coming to attention and snapping a salute.

Whitworth waved vaguely at his head with a salute that would have gotten Mayfield busted back at least one full rank if he had tried it.

"At ease, Lieutenant. Have a seat."

Mayfield slid into a seat that was centered before the screen. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

Dammit,  Mayfield thought, why can't I report to a Major? Or at most a Colonel? Whitworth probably laughs his ass off every time he ends a transmission to me. Of course I do report to Colonel Matthews, and that's stressful enough. Will I ever get used to this job? The General told me that Colonel Matthews gave me an excellent evaluation, but I do not like reporting to a General.

Almost as if the General were reading the Lieutenant's mind, "As I said, at ease, Lieutenant. I didn't call you to chew your ass out. And in case you're wondering, I could certainly have had you to report to a subordinate, but Colonel Matthews and his family are more important to me than that. That said, there is a possibility of a fuckup occurring. And if it does, there could be some dire consequences."

Whitworth dropped his feet off his desk and sat forward. "Didn't you recently install updated software for the weapon emplacements?"

"Yes, Sir. It installed beautifully. Everything went off without a hitch, and our tests show it is working perfectly."

"But those emplacements are operating on automatic, are they not?"

"Yes, Sir. But the weapons won't fire without an order from me or my Sergeant, or if we're incapacitated, the control shifts to your base, and you, of course, have override."

"But now that we're using Colonel Matthews new type of radar that can't be detected by conventional means, the weapons automatically lock on to any aircraft within a certain radius, right?" the General continued.

"Uh, yes, Sir."

"But the Ship hasn't been there since the new software was installed?"

"Uh, no Sir, but..."

"Humor me, Lieutenant. Make sure the new software doesn't try to lock on to the Ship. We should be there shortly after zero nine hundred hours tomorrow."

"But Sir, the weapons won't fire until I release them. The Ship won't be in any danger."

"Son, I'm not worrying about the Ship. I'm worrying about all that money I've spent on those weapon emplacements. That Ship makes our best electronics seem like a cave man trying to yell to his buddy on the next mountain peak. Make absodammlutely certain those weapons don't try to lock on to the Ship. I don't want a bunch of craters where all that money used to be, and I don't want to trust that software update until it has been proven to not have any glitches in it. It's okay to track anything else, but not the Ship."

"Sir, I'll make sure the software doesn't respond to the Ship in any manner. I'll personally be on the weapons console tomorrow morning."

"Well done, Lieutenant. I'll check with you sometime tomorrow. Whitworth out."

As soon as the screen went blank, Mayfield let out a sigh. All I need is to have that Ship take out all our weapons.

Shortly, Mayfield had his Sergeant notifying the techs to meet in the Ready Room ASAP.

OUTSKIRTS OF DENVER

The trip home from the Retreat was quite a bit different for Jeremy and the two women. On the way up, they had all been tense, wondering if they could convince Mr. Matthews to even consider buying their company. They had never seen where the Matthews family lived, but had thought that Mr. Matthews was rich. Whether he was rich enough to purchase their company was something else they didn't know, but hoped for. The nearer they had gotten to the mountain retreat, the more they had worried.

Doubts had almost convinced them that their trip would be fruitless, but things had changed in ways that they could never have imagined. Now, as they neared home, they found themselves almost wondering if the weekend had been some type of dream.

"It really happened," Denise said, almost to herself.

Connie let out a quiet chuckle. "My thoughts exactly. But the next time we go, we're going to take an overnight bag with us."

Jeremy pulled into their driveway and stopped near the house, shutting down the engine. "They even have clothes for their guests. I can't imagine that."

Connie, sitting in the middle, squeezed Jeremy's hand. "I wish we could go to the weddings."

Jeremy was about to open his door, but turned back to the women. "The only suit I own came off the rack at JC Penney. No telling what those people will be wearing."

There was a moment of quiet before Denise said, "Somehow, I don't think they would embarrass us."

"But we could never get there on time."

"Yeah, you're right," Connie returned as they all got out of the truck.

Jeremy got out and reached in the back of the truck to release the tie down on the cooler. "That is one humongous cooler," he commented as he slid it to the back of the truck. A moment later, with the tailgate down, Denise and Connie grabbed the handle on one end, while Jeremy took the one on the other end. Both Connie and Denise grunted as they took the full weight of their end.

"What in the world did they put in this thing?" Jeremy said. The women didn't answer right away, and the three went on up the steps to the porch.

"It's full of meat," Denise finally responded as they put the case down so Connie could open the door. Inside, they put the cooler by the freezer. Jeremy opened the lid of the chest and moved the layer of vegetables around, realizing that the cooler was, indeed, full of meat. "Shit, we can't accept this much meat. And it looks like most of it is steaks."

"We accepted it from Diana," Connie said, her voice quiet. "She told us we would eat a lot in the next weeks because of our enhancement — whatever that is — and that you would eat even more than Denise and I would. Diana said this would get us past the worst of our hunger. Please, don't be mad, Jeremy. Diana was very insistent, and it was hard to resist her."

Jeremy stood for a moment as he looked down into the case. As a smile came over his countenance, he asked, "Suppose you could cook up a couple of those for me? I'm suddenly very hungry."

Much later in the day, Denise and Connie were sitting on the bed waiting for Jeremy to finish in the bathroom and come to bed. Connie took Denise's hand. "When are we going to tell him, or ask him, or whatever?"

Denise looked at her friend. "I'm scared. He's talking about marrying us in a year when we save more money. But if we're going to take Diana's charity and marry him Friday, we're going to have to convince him soon — real soon. You know we have to invite his family, too. His mother will kill us if she doesn't get to see her only son married. Diana said we could invite them."

"Yeah, if his mom doesn't kill us for marrying him," Connie added.

"There is that," Denise conceded.

Connie giggled. "Paulette," (Jeremy's fourteen-year-old sister) "will probably be our advocate. You could tell she thought her brother having two girlfriends was cool, and his dad seemed to be okay with the idea of us being with his son. His mom seemed to warm to us after our talk."

"Okay," Denise said. "I'll suck his dick and you stick a titty in his mouth. Just before he comes, you tell him we're getting married Friday night. I'll keep sucking. Something is bound to happen."

"Yeah," Connie agreed, "but that something might be me getting my nipple bitten off." Then, "Oh shit, unless we want to wait a year, we have to convince him that the time is now. If he starts saying no, you keep sucking, and suck hard."

Jeremy came out of the bathroom. Seeing Denise and Connie with very serious looks on their faces. "Uh, what's going on, Ladies?"

After a slight hesitation, both women said in unison, "We love you."

Jeremy, dressed only in his shorts, sat on the bed. "Well, I love both of you, too."

Shortly, Jeremy was lying on his back. Denise was sucking his cock and Connie had a titty in his mouth. As Jeremy neared orgasm, Connie took a breath, "Baby, we need to ask you something..."



-------

Chapter 166


MIDVILLE, WYOMING — MONDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 3

The early breakfast meeting went off without a hitch. One of Tingle's assistants gave laptops and the latest high-end smart phones to Luther, Megan and each of the town council members. When the meeting was over, the assistant set up a training schedule for the programs they would use on the laptops and gave them a quick introduction to the phones.

As Luther, Megan and Ray Tingle stood outside the small office building, Luther reminded Tingle, "Don't forget. When I turn in my notice, I'll probably be fired. If he treats me the same way he has others when they quit, the owner won't even mail me my final check. I'll have to drive over to get it next week on payday."

Tingle chuckled. "If he fires you, his loss; our gain." Tingle didn't mention the sign-on bonus Cambridge was going to get, leaving it for a surprise. "Like we said before, we won't have to wait two weeks for you to start with us." Tingle paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Look, Mr. Cambridge, I know this seems a little ... far-fetched, but Mr. Wainwright does things this way. Whenever he starts anything, he goes all out. The man is brilliant. While most people are hung up in the moment, he sees things years ahead, and seems to know precisely what to do at exactly the right time. It's one of the many reasons I keep working for him. I think I would work for him even if he didn't pay me, but don't tell him that," he laughed. "There is always something going on. But he doesn't cheat or underpay anyone — ever. Please don't misunderstand me; he's no pushover. Several people have tried to con him. The operative word is 'tried.' To my knowledge, no one has ever succeeded. Once someone tries, though, he's off Mr. Wainwright's 'good-guy' list forever. He never forgets a friend, but he never forgets an enemy, either.

"Look, I realize you're a little worried right now, but in a few weeks, you're going to be too busy to worry. You and the town council are going to be making many decisions about your little town. From what I saw here this morning with the council members deferring everything to you, I strongly suspect that you are going to be the one making all the decisions."

-------

Jill and Kathy waved to the people on the ground as the helicopter rose above the little airport. Pastor Cambridge and Megan waved back. When Bill turned the copter and Jill couldn't see the Cambridges any longer, she sat back fully in her seat, took a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes. Trying to hide a sniff, "I really like those people. I hate to leave."

"We all like them," Wainwright acknowledged. "We'll see them again soon."

"I hope so."

THE RETREAT

Jeff sat in his basement office, his chair pushed back from his desk, Susan snuggled in his lap and Little One on his right shoulder as she nestled against his neck. He could feel the two females' love for him, and he hoped they could also detect his feelings for them.

"You didn't nurse all my milk last night, Husband. If you don't want it, I'm going to have to express it this morning."

Jeff kissed his wife/Queen and grinned.

"What's that smirk on your face?" Susan queried.

"Oh, nothing," he hedged.

"'Oh, nothing, '" she mimicked. "Tell me, Husband."

"I was just remembering how much you used to hate me. Now you ask me to drink your milk."

"And you don't like to nurse my milk?"

"You know I do."

She hesitated a moment. "That still bugs you, doesn't it?" Without waiting for his answer, she continued, "I've already told you I didn't really hate you back then. I was pissed that you took my daughter from me so young..."

"I didn't," the Prime began.

"Oh, she was still there in the house with us, but she belonged to you after the wedding, and you assured that the wedding would happen when you impregnated her. But, as I told you before, I was ... jealous."

"So, I turned you on even back then?" he laughed.

"I couldn't acknowledge it — not even to myself. So I dealt you misery, instead."

Jeff pulled her top above her breasts. "So you continue to punish me by making me suck your milk?" he teased.

"Something like that," she sighed as she guided a breast to his mouth and felt him beginning to suck.

He slipped a hand under her short skirt and slowly crept his fingers upward, softly stroking her inner thigh, ever creeping toward her center.

With a grunt of frustration, she grabbed his hand and placed it roughly onto her pussy. He pulled back from her breast a little when his hand only encountered bare flesh between her legs, "Oh, someone left off her panties this morning."

Susan started to reply when he pushed his middle finger into her with his thumb coming to rest on her clit. As he sucked hard on her nipple, he tasted the sweet milk squirting into his mouth. "Oh, my," she squeaked out as she felt her orgasm already beginning to build.

Jeff could feel Little One tagging along with their feelings. He didn't know if the small alien could orgasm, but he knew she enjoyed becoming one with him as he made love to his women. He tried to send his feelings to her, thanking her for all she had done for them, telling her of his love for her.

Susan continued to hold her breast with one hand as her orgasm grabbed her, her other arm going around his head, pulling his face hard against her breast. "Oh, Jeff," she wailed as the first of her orgasms struck. She shivered in his arms as her milk seemed to gush into his mouth. Later, she sat nestled in his arms as she slept, her top still pushed above her breasts.

"It's time we tried to call the Ship and ask her to come here, " he sent to Little One. "I need to tell her to let the General and his wives ride with her."

The message he was trying to send to the alien telepath wasn't as simple as that, and involved mental pictures as he struggled to put his words into the concepts Little One understood.

{{{ Yes, My Prime. }}}

The alien AI hesitated for a moment as her mind linked with his. He felt a ... swirl of alienness for a second as their minds merged. This had never happened quite this way with Little One, and the merge with the Ship was different, as well. Nausea threatened as vertigo struck. He fought back his gorge, his mind seeking a level plane in the swirl of alien thoughts that assailed him.

With an abruptness that was in itself startling, something surrounded him, but there was no projected danger, rather a feeling of ... protection combined with an intense feeling of love. Darkness swirled to light, then dark, then light again. The vertigo mostly faded away. The alienness of the situation remained. He seemed to be inside the Ship, standing by one of the vision screens looking out into the giant underground hangar at the base.

Almost before the thought had formed, he felt as if he merged with the Ship's AI, but it wasn't the same as when he sat in the command chair. It was as if he was somehow slightly out of focus. He was there with the Ship, yet he wasn't.

When he sat in the command couch, he became the Ship. Here, he seemed to only ... touch her mind. Instead of the clear communication he was accustomed to with her, he struggled to send her his needs and instructions, forming concepts to be sent through Little One.

Apparently the Ship understood, because he received what had to be an acknowledgment. Soon, he could feel Little One struggle to maintain the link, then he was back in the lab swallowing hard, taking deep breaths as the vertigo again swirled around him.

He realized that he could still feel Little One — feel her fatigue. "You okay?" he tried to mentally send to her.

He got back something that he interpreted to mean, {{{ My energies are quickly rebuilding. }}}

In moments, he felt an almost purr from her that he knew meant she was fine.

"You are much stronger than you once were," he sent to her.

{{{ Indeed, I have a much enhanced power source, but until recently, I could not have sent your mind to the Ship. Your abilities have also grown stronger, My Prime. }}}

He was fairly certain he got the gist of her storm of mental concepts and impressions, but wondered if they would ever truly understand each other. He had already "discussed" the Ship enhancing Little One's language ability, but the AI was oddly reluctant to do so. He could feel love, concern, other things, but many of the concepts that Little One sent were so alien he had no clue as to their meaning. Still, their communication was progressing. At least, he was getting better at understanding complicated concepts, but he wondered if she really understood all of his stumbling attempts to communicate with her.

Having distracted his mind with thoughts of Little One, he realized that his vertigo was gone, leaving only a little dizziness behind, and a deep fatigue. He closed his eyes again, taking long slow breaths. Shortly, he felt better and opened his eyes. A smile touched his face as he realized that Susan was breathing against his neck, and his cock was responding.

His dick was straining against his pants where Susan's butt was pressing down on it. Hmmm, I don't have to be anywhere just now. He tweaked his wife's nipple, then leaning down, gently nipped it with his teeth. Susan groaned in her sleep, her breathing changing as her mind began to surface from her slumber.

Little One, sensing what he had in mind, flowed through his collar and spread out onto his back.

He reached behind Susan and unzipped her short skirt. "Stand up, Wife. I need some of that pussy."

"Oh, such a bad boy," she teased, coming to her feet and shimmying her hips to cause the skirt to fall to the floor, revealing that she had on a garter belt to hold up her hose.

"You dressed for me?" he half questioned, his voice teasing.

"Now why else would I be wearing heels here in the Retreat? And who else would I dress for?" she responded with a quiet giggle.

Without being asked, she leaned on the desk, looking back over her shoulder as he slipped his shoes and socks off, and dropped his pants, kicking them aside. He knelt behind her and ran his tongue gently up and down her nether lips, tasting her juices, then lapped at her clit.

Susan shivered. "I'm as hot as I'm ever going to get," she moaned out. "Just fuck me, please."

He stood and slid his cock along her vulva to momentarily touch her clit, then pulled back to do it again. She wiggled her ass trying to trap the head of his cock with her hole. Just as she drew breath to complain about his taking so long, he pushed past her lips, lodging himself into her opening. She sucked in a breath and pushed back at him.

"I don't need gentle," she hissed out. "Take me. Fuck me. Fuck your mother-in-law. Fuck your wife."

Three more pushes and he was fully inside her, pressing against her cervix. He pulled out a little and slammed back into her, his balls rocking against her clit. She sucked in a breath, whining as her first orgasm built, her ass beginning to meet his strokes as he continued a slow in-and-out movement. After a while, he reached under her to firmly grasp her breasts.

"Yes," she hissed out as he squeezed them hard. "Breed me," she squealed even louder.

We're not to that point, yet,  he thought as he felt her tunnel grab his cock, and besides, Arlene would kill both of us if I gave you our first baby. She says I have no excuse now that we have Little One to assure that the baby will be perfect. But if my wives could control Little One, I would be surrounded by women with swollen bellies.

The Prime let out a quiet chuckle at the demands of his mother-in-law. You'll be sexy with your belly swelled up, My Wife, but not just yet,  he thought. He pinched her nipples, pushing her over the precipice. Her ass wiggling, her pussy gripping his cock, she wailed out her orgasm, immediately beginning to build toward another one.

She looks hardly older than Diana, and her pussy is just as tight — and almost as talented.

Her pussy spasmed around his cock as she fell off the precipice again, only to have a chain of orgasms, one starting even before the last one had finished. He began to pump harder, letting his control go, working toward his own release. Another dozen strokes and he gasped out, "Here it comes, Baby."

He slammed into her several times, grunted, squeezed her breasts tighter, stroked hard one last time, ramming in and holding against her womb. His ball sack tightened up, his prostate cramped and he felt his semen pump through his cock into the squirming woman under him. In the midst of her screams, he flipped her switch, causing her orgasms to continue on, their strength ever spiraling upward. Her screams of ecstasy gradually tapered off and her world faded away as her mind was overloaded with orgasmic intensity.

He lay on her, pushing her against the desk, keeping her from falling while he regained his breath. With a hand firmly in the middle of her back, he pulled out of her, watching a gob of sperm-laden semen gush from her pussy and start down her thigh. Lifting her into his arms, he gently deposited the sleeping woman on the office couch, then went into the bathroom for a dampened washcloth and a towel to clean her up.

Back a moment later, he attended to her abused pussy, then kissed her awake. "Welcome back, Wife," he whispered as her eyes fluttered open. "I love you, you know."

She threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, Jeff. I'm so happy. When my husband died, I thought I would be alone for the rest of my life. But I wound up here, and I'm so happy. I have my daughter and my granddaughter ... and you. My world is complete."

"Don't forget your other granddaughters," he teased.

"I'll never forget Nat, Nicki and Whitney. I love them just as much as any of my other sister-wives, and yes, they do feel like my granddaughters, too."

Jeff handed his wife her skirt. "It won't be long before the General and his wives will be here. We probably should go back upstairs."

Susan stood on wobbly legs, putting her skirt on while he dressed, then took her husband's arm after they were clothed. "Lead on," she laughed. "I want everyone to see the well-fucked look on my face."

Laughing together like children with a secret, they left his lab office and started for the stairs.

THE BASE

General Whitworth, Barbara and Ellen walked out onto the floor of the underground hangar, each pulling a suitcase.

Inside the Ship, Doctor Daniels, the scientist who was in charge of the night shift, was kneeling by one of the many mysterious machines, the line of them seeming to stretch into infinity. He was working a double because the day shift supervisor was sick this morning. Daniels and two of the techs had been discussing the possible use of the machine when he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck and goose bumps pop out on his arms.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered as he came to his feet. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, a deep gong-like sound reverberated throughout the ship, then repeated every five seconds or so. Its deep, reverberating "Bong, bong," was eerie in the alien craft. Simultaneously, the floor lit with a strip of strobing lights, encouraging them to follow. Frustrated, he herded the techs in front of him and on into one of the main corridors as he wished that radios worked inside the Ship.

A few minutes later, he smiled as he realized that no one seemed to have panicked this time. At the doorway/hatch, he counted his people as they left. Stepping onto the ramp, he turned and looked back inside for a moment. "Thank you."

He could swear he felt amusement, but even that had its own mode of terror built into it. He could feel the amusement, true, but it was as if he hung above a giant well that extended down to the ends of the universe. Shaking his head at what he hoped was his imagination, he turned and jogged down the ramp.

"Good morning, Doctor Daniels," the General said as Daniels met up with the General, his wife and his sister-in law half way across the hangar.

"Morning, General; Ladies. She just encouraged us to leave," he said, focusing on the General and trying to not shiver. "It was a much more gentle nudge this time. No giant spiders or imagined terror stalking us."

Whitworth chuckled. "We have an appointment with Colonel Matthews. You might want to give your people some R & R while we're gone. We might be gone several days to a week."

"We still have equipment in there," Daniels said.

"No matter. I'm sure it will be fine. You might make certain all your people are well back. The physician had complaints of persistent ringing in the ears the last time the Ship left."

"Yes, Sir," Daniels acknowledged, waving to his crew to continue on toward the other end of the hangar.

A few moments later, Daniels stood with his people well out of the way, watching as the landing jacks retracted and the great Ship hovered just above the hangar floor. This time, Daniels didn't completely cover his ears, but stood waiting with his hands close to the side of his head.

He was glad he did. This time, knowing what to expect, he heard a sound that he could only describe as a short tearing screech that sounded like something had torn the fabric of the universe apart. The eerie sound lasted for a quarter of a second or so before morphing into a clap of thunder that forced him to slam his hands hard against his ears.

The Ship was gone.

-------

General Whitworth, Barbara and Ellen sat on a soft bench the ship had formed for them. A wall that had suddenly become a vision screen showed the base far below them for an instant before reality turned wrong side out a second time. The screen seemed to blink, then showed snow-covered mountains. The small dot below them began expanding at an alarming rate as the ship powered downward.

A thought crossed the General's mind. Should the inertial drive fail, we would be paint on these floors and walls. Before he had time to take a breath, the vision screen suddenly showed the Retreat from ground level. As they watched, an Escalade backed rapidly out of the inside garage, turned and headed toward them.

-------

Lieutenant Mayfield sat at the defensive weapons console, his hand near the override button. To his immense relief, the software instantly recognized the Ship, the tracking remaining dormant. Managing to hold back a sigh of relief, he stood, "Excellent work. I'll let you people get back to your jobs now."

Without further comment, he quickly walked back to his quarters, hoping no one had noticed the sweat on his forehead. And I worried this job would be boring,  he thought as he closed his door behind him.

At the weapons console, one of the techs grumbled aloud, "I guess the Lieutenant doesn't trust me. Can't think of any other reason he would take over for me. We all knew that software update worked properly..."

The Sergeant snapped around to face the tech. With words cold as ice, "And ... who would have been blamed if the weapons began to track the Ship and it blew them all to kingdom come? Think about that. Whose ass would have been busted, huh? You trust an update when it has been proven, not before — never before. Lieutenant Mayfield was going to take the heat for you if things went awry.

"Now, I'm going to have a cup of coffee with the Lieutenant, and I'm going to tell him you were very appreciative of his taking over in case something went wrong. Will I be incorrect in saying that?"

The tech took a breath, his face red. "No, Sergeant, you would be right to say that. I'm flattered that my commander would think enough of me to do that."

"Good. I thought that's what you meant." Sergeant Higgins turned and walked out.

-------

While Arlene drove the SUV the few hundred yards to where the Ship hovered, the young wife looked over at Ann riding beside her. "Doggonit, I wish Security wouldn't be quite so prompt with their snowplow. I like to use that big snowblower, and I used to get a kick out of plowing out the driveway with the snowplow on Dad's pickup. Now Security plows the drive before Dad goes out for his morning run. I thought I would at least get to play with the snowblower this morning, but they had already plowed out the back parking lot and made a path to where the Ship lands.

"They even plowed out a place for us to turn around," Arlene grumbled as they got to the ship. She turned the Escalade and backed near the ramp. "And yeah, I know they're just doing things to ensure they can protect our husband, but heck ... I'd like to be able to drive somewhere; we never go anywhere. Mom even does most of her grocery shopping on the Internet. That restaurant supply company has a website and so does the grocery store we use in Winter Park. Both of them deliver, and no wonder with as much as we buy. I can drive; I just need some practice."

Ann smiled at her sister-wife just before they got out of the SUV. "I feel pretty much the same way. When we do go somewhere, we look like the President's motorcade."

Arlene didn't respond, but sat partially turned around in her seat staring at the Ship. "That thing is beautiful, and she saved my life. But you know something?"

"What?"

"I wonder why we haven't been curious about her and wanted to explore inside her? Selina did, but none of us have. That's odd. I wonder why."

"Well, I for one am a little bit scared of her," Ann commented. "She looks so ... alien. It hurts my eyes just to really look at her. It's like my eyes can't seem to quite focus on her. In a way, she's beautiful, and ... in a way, she's terribly frightening."

Arlene glanced over at Ann. "I'm not scared of her, but I'm wondering more and more why at least some of us haven't decided to go exploring." The young wife popped the rear hatch of the vehicle as the General, Ellen and Barbara came out of the ship. "Let's get their stuff loaded. We'll continue this conversation later," the young Queen said as they hastened to get out to greet their visitors.

-------

The Prime and his Queen stood at the top of the steps in the inside garage. As soon as the SUV came to a stop, the two went down to welcome the General and his mates. Jeff grabbed the General's case out of the back of the Escalade. Arlene and Ann got the women's things. In short order, they were all in the General's suite. The women went on into the bedroom with the cases, leaving Jeff and the General staring at each other.

"Wedding," Jeff said.

"Yeah," the General returned, "they have plenty to talk about now."

"Let's go to the living room before we get sucked into their plans. I left Art in there, pacing like a caged tiger."

"I haven't even asked which night my women have chosen for our marriage. I think it's one of those need to know situations," Whitworth commented as a joke, but even so, Jeff thought he might be more right than not.

The men strolled down the hallway when something suddenly crossed Jeff's mind. The milkshakes. Yeah, that's something that all the Alphas need to experience at least once. Hmmm, I need to remind Diana and Laura of that. Those damn things make me as horny as a four-balled tomcat.

The General turned into the living room while Jeff continued on toward his suite looking for Laura.

As Whitworth walked in, Art was standing near the big window staring out. To say that he was tense was most assuredly an understatement. Whitworth walked over and put out his hand, "Morning, Agent Hanes. Congratulations on your upcoming marriage."

"Uh, good morning, General," Art responded as they shook. "I hear that you're going to marry Barbara."

"Well, we've been together a long time, and I've referred to her as my wife when we were in private, but we couldn't pass up the chance to be married by a Prime and his Queen. We'll probably never tell anyone at the base, but we will know."

"Same for me," Art sighed. "This is a beautiful place, and they treat us like royalty, but we can't go anywhere without worrying that someone will recognize us, or we'll be picked up on camera somewhere. Hell, I can't even get at my salary without giving those slavers a chance to track us down."

Art turned to look back out the window again, but Whitworth put a hand on his shoulder. "Son, now isn't the time, but like I said, after you've been married a couple of days, we'll sit down and talk. Just to put your mind somewhat at ease, though, I'll tell you this much now. I brought the three of you new identities. Real identities that will withstand the closest scrutiny. And your back salary is in an account that you can access any time you wish — your wives' account, also. But ... there's little I can do about your being picked up by facial recognition software.

"We've made a number of ... arrests. But these people are like insects hiding under a rotting log. Once you move the log, they pop out. Give them a couple of minutes, and they're gone again. Whatley says the FBI has been compromised. He's certain that it was someone in his organization that gave away your location at the nurses' home in Georgia, to say nothing of the hospital. Who knows how many of these ... traitors there are in the FBI.

"Witness protection is much harder than it once was. It's scary to think that some of these people may even be high enough in your organization to track you down using agency tools. Who knows how many databases they have access too. Any security camera or video of you that makes it to one of the social websites could cause you to be found. My strong advice is for you and your women to stay right here. In time, they might give up looking for you, or we'll make more inroads into their ranks and catch or eliminate the people who are causing the problem."

"Shit, I'll never be an agent again, will I?"

Whitworth sighed, "I can't think of anything you could do that wouldn't risk someone at the agency letting the slavers know. They obviously think you know too much to live. Just going out with a new identity ... well, it might not make much difference. I believe it's more than you being a threat. They want to make an example out of you. They've spent a lot of money and resources trying to kill the three of you. They're not likely to just stop."



-------

Chapter 167

General Whitworth had gone to see Lieutenant Mayfield. Whitworth's wives, Ellen and Barbara, were with Diana. Art was sitting in a recliner near the window of the living room as he tried to calm his nerves, but was quickly run out of there by a group of wives and Selina, all of whom were intent on cleaning and setting up the living room for the wedding tonight.

As Art stepped out into the hallway, he met Jeff, along with Dave and Evie. The two project managers had just returned from their meeting with Mr. Jackson.

Jeff turned into the living room and stopped. "Oops, not in here. Let's go to your apartment."

As Art started to turn away, Jeff grabbed the young agent's shoulder. Carefully keeping a straight face and conjuring up a mournful tone, "Come on with us. You need to keep occupied until it's time for you to dress for your execution."

Dave chuckled, but Evie mock-glared at the Prime. Turning to smile at Art, "Don't let these two get you more upset than you obviously already are. Regardless of their teasing, they both know this will be the best thing that's ever happened to you."

Art smiled back at her. "I know that, and I realize that everyone is just kidding me about the wedding, but I can't seem to sit still. I don't know how long I'm even going to have a job. How can I be of any use to the FBI when all I can do is hide? We're stuck here sponging off Diana, Jeff and his family..."

Jeff put his hand back on Art's shoulder, briefly squeezing to fully attract his attention. "That's enough of that bullshit. You are not 'sponging' off anyone. When the time comes, we'll figure out something for you to do. Right now, you're still employed by the FBI, and you've just sent them some very, very valuable information on two criminals who need to be taken down. For now, you need to forget about the FBI, or anything else that's bothering you, and think about those two fine women you're going to marry in a very few hours..."

Art was shaking his head. "That's supposed to calm me down? My usefulness to the agency is going to be short-lived at best. When that's over, how am I going to support us? Sandra and Bobby can't be nurses anymore. The slavers would trace them as soon as they applied to have their nursing licenses transferred. This isn't like someone who is put in a witness protection program to get away from a few bad boys who want to keep the person from testifying. This group has obviously infiltrated the FBI, and no telling how many other law enforcement organizations.

"In addition, I can't just be set up with another job somewhere. Even if the FBI has the US Marshals provide me with a new identity and job instead of having the FBI do it themselves, who's to say the Marshals haven't been infiltrated, too? No matter what happens, I would just be waiting for a security camera to pick me up and have some facial recognition program hit on me. I can't risk Sandra's and Bobby's lives like that. They've almost died because of me, already."

Startling Art, Evie pulled him into a hug, then kissed his cheek. "Let's go to our apartment. I have a fudge cake that's to die for. We need to talk to Jeff, but he always shares everything with his Alphas — right Jeff?" she confirmed as she glanced at the Prime for a second.

"I don't have any secrets from any of you. These two," he continued as he nodded to Dave and Evie, "have just had a meeting about buying the steel erection company that Jeremy, Connie and Denise work for. So Evie is right. Come on, let's go eat some of that cake, and maybe drink a glass of milk with it. I always like milk with fudge cake. Maybe hearing what they've been up to will take your mind off things for a while."

"It still sounds like personal bus..." Art started to protest, but Evie hooked her arm in his and gave him a yank, starting down the hall and causing him to laugh as he let the petite woman drag him along. In a few steps, he was trying to answer her questions about the two women he loved with all his heart.

A few minutes later, they sat at Evie and Dave's kitchen table. Art managed a smile as Evie put a big dollop of vanilla ice cream on top of his fudge cake she had just heated in the microwave.

Although everyone had chosen to drink milk with the fudge cake, Evie had also started a pot of coffee, knowing that Jeff and her husband would expect coffee afterward.

-------

The cake and ice cream had been eaten, the milk had been drunk, and the four now sat around the table with coffee in front of them. Art, with the comraderie of the others, was more relaxed than he had been all day, but Dave and Evie had not yet discussed any business.

"So tell me about it. What do you think?" Jeff asked, after taking his first sip of hot coffee and sitting back in his chair.

"We stopped by and asked Fred to go with us," Evie offered.

Jeff took a half second to reason why. "His talent for sensing a lie, right?"

"Yep," Dave said. "It was Evie's idea. You told us we needed to get this done because of what was going on both with the company and with Jeremy and his women. No use having meeting after meeting and winding up haggling over price when there's an easier way. Besides, Mr. Jackson's wife had been extremely adamant on the phone about not stressing her husband."

Evie broke in with, "Mrs. Jackson met us at the door and firmly, but politely, gave us another short lecture on the need to avoid upsetting her husband. Not that I blame her. He's only days out of the hospital after major heart surgery. Whatever was wrong with his heart, the doctors couldn't put a stent in, but had to operate, instead. He seems reasonably okay, considering the circumstances, but apparently his doctor stressed that he should not be upset about anything."

Dave chuckled. "That little wife of his reminds me of a badger. Oh, not her looks; she's a nice looking lady, but to say she is protective of her husband is far from being descriptive enough. But anyway, she invited us into her living room after her mini lecture about not upsetting her husband."

"What did she say about bringing Fred? I know she was only expecting the two of you."

"Oh, Fred could charm a pissed-off rattlesnake," Evie said with a little giggle. "He had her smiling before we had been there two minutes. As soon as introductions were over and we were seated in their living room, she brought us coffee, her poor husband having to drink decaf."

"So, what about the price?"

Evie continued, "Well within the bounds you gave us. After looking through their financial records, we stepped out of the room for a short conference. Fred gave us his guestimate of the lowest figure they would take based on the discussion we just had, and it was much less than what seems fair, but much more than they were offered by their competition."

Dave took over with, "Keeping in mind what you had said about making sure we offered a fair price, and to get the offer out before they gave up and accepted what the other company proposed, we made them an offer that is well above what Fred thought was the minimum they would take. They had already told us what their competitor had offered, so we knew we were well above that. They left to have a short conference, then came back into the living room and accepted our offer. I wrote Mr. Jackson a check for earnest money, pending the positive outcome of an audit of the business." As Jeff started to say something, Dave motioned with his hand and quickly went on, "We arranged for the accountant and his assistant to be at the company offices this afternoon when they normally close. Mr. Jackson's wife arranged for the office manager and her assistant to be there to assist the accountant in any way they can. They'll remain there until our accountant has completed the preliminary audit.

"Fred had already told us that Mr. Jackson and his wife hadn't lied about anything they said, and they claimed that their books are an accurate reflection of the company's worth. The accountant said he would know by tomorrow. We have a meeting set tentatively for two tomorrow afternoon here at the Retreat with both attorneys, theirs and ours, and our accountant — providing, of course, that the accountant is satisfied with their books and the information they gave us is accurate. You said to expedite it, and we did."

Jeff smiled, realizing yet again that having made Dave and Evie his project managers was continuing to relieve him of a lot of stress and hassle. "Sounds like we're shortly going to own a steel erection company. So who is going to run it?"

Dave and Evie looked at each other for a moment before Dave answered, "Mr. Jackson and his wife both suggested Lee, the guy who is running the company while Mr. Jackson is off. Actually, they practically begged us to let Lee have the job. Apparently, Jackson was planning to turn the operation over to Lee when he (Jackson) retired in a couple of years."

Jeff put his cup down after draining the last of it. "Jeremy already said he thinks Lee would be a good choice, although, they'll miss him as a crew boss. Jeremy says that Mr. Jackson has been training Lee whenever Jackson has had the time. Far as I'm concerned, 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it.' We'll keep Lee as boss, if he wants the job. The next thing we'll do, if the buy comes about, is to let Jeremy, Connie and Denise off Thursday and Friday, and set up some vacation for them after that. Paid, of course."

"They're going to shit when they find out," Dave commented with a grin.

The television interrupted with, "HELICOPTER COMMANDED BY CAPTAIN MADISON APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH."

"Thanks," Jeff said as the AI shut the TV off. Then to the others, "Gonna be interesting to find out what's happening in Midville."

-------

Arlene and Ann, each in an SUV, rolled to a stop well back from the helicopter. When the rotors stopped, the girls backed their vehicles close by, popped the back hatches and exited to stand waiting, scrunched together in the cold wind, shivering. Ann, trying to distract herself from thinking about the cold, said, "We got out of cleaning and setting up the living room for the first wedding — at least for a little while, but I didn't expect the wind to be blowing this hard."

Arlene chuckled. "With Bill and Frank, we have two more men to help with setting up the seating. Can you believe we're going to have weddings all this week? The honeymoon suite is going to get a workout. Wouldn't you just love to be a fly on the wall? It would be like a porn movie, only live."

"Arleeeene," Ann scolded, dragging out her sister-wife's name. "I can't believe you said that."

"Oh, I would never really do it. But I'll bet Connie and Denise are going to wear Jeremy out."

Frank stepped out of the helicopter and offered an arm to the women as they began to exit. "That isn't until Friday," Ann said. "Art, Sandra and Bobby are for tonight, and I'll bet Art is going to hold his own. What'cha wanna bet Sandra and Bobby will be walking very gingerly when they come to breakfast tomorrow morning?"

"Didn't we all after our own wedding night?" Arlene giggled as she reached for the luggage Bill and Reed had begun setting out of the copter.

-------

Art had been temporarily moved to another suite so he wouldn't see his brides before they came down the aisle. The two nurses now sat in the sitting room of their suite. "Should I make another pot of coffee?" Sandra asked her sister.

Bobby was shaking her head. "No way. We've already drunk a pot between the two of us, plus what we had at breakfast, then the two diet drinks. If we keep on like we've been doing, I'm afraid I'll have to pee halfway through the ceremony. We need to curb what we drink for the rest of the day."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I suppose we have to do something with our hands, so we just keep drinking stuff. Diana said that Art was more nervous than we are. I hate to think of how nervous he is, if he's worse than I am. We'll make sure we go to the bathroom just before the wedding starts. Wedding. Oh, crap, I swear my heart just skipped a beat. I can't believe we're getting married. Everything has happened so fast."

Bobby turned to look fully at her sister. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet..."

Sandra shook her head. "No, of course not. Absolutely not. But it seems like only yesterday that we were doing everything we could to keep Art from dying. Now, we're marrying him. Both of us, just like we dreamed when we were teenagers."

Bobby frowned, the crease in her forehead evident as she worried. "Are you sorry we let that idiot take our cherries? I wonder what Art really thinks about that. I told him that I wished I had waited for him to deflower me, but he just laughed and said he was glad there wouldn't be any blood on the bed tonight, and he wouldn't have to hurt us."

Sandra let out a little sigh. "I heard you ask him. And I guess I'm glad I don't have to worry about a hymen, but I'm still worried about his ... cock fitting inside me."

"Oh, come on. You're a nurse. You know it will fit."

"Yeah, but it's way bigger than the only one we've had. It could still be uncomfortable the first few times," Sandra said.

"Well, I'm not worrying about that. I just hope he'll like what we have to offer. But he surely seemed to like the blowjobs we've given him."

"He says he's not very experienced. I guess we'll all just learn together."

-------

There was a knock on Art's door. When he got up to answer it, Diana and Laura were standing there smiling at him. "Still nervous?" Diana asked as he held the door open for them to enter.

"Nervous doesn't even begin to describe it," he said with a sick smile.

Art sat in one of the chairs as Diana sat on the couch. Laura handed him a large "chocolate" milk shake, then sat with Diana, both women now smiling at him.

"What's this?" Art questioned, motioning with the shake a little as he asked.

"Tradition," Diana responded.

Art took a sip from the large straw. "Hmmm. It tastes good, but..."

"It has a little aftertaste?" Laura offered. "That's because of all the spices it has in it."

"Spices?"

Laura was obviously holding back a laugh. "Yep. Lots of them. Some I even have to order."

"What's going on, Ladies?"

"It's your concoction," Diana said to her handmaiden. "You tell him."

Laura's face suddenly flushed. "It's supposed to have aphrodisiac characteristics for men. Jeff says it makes him as horny as a 'four-balled tomcat, '" she rushed out, blushing. "But there's one other little thing. It makes you really sleepy in the beginning. Then again, is that so bad? You won't be awake to worry about the wedding all afternoon, and you'll wake up refreshed and ready for your women."

"Jeff really drank these things before his weddings?"

"All but one time when we forgot," Diana offered. "We're serious about your drinking it. It won't hurt you, and ... you do have two women to think about tonight. Some of us will wake you in plenty of time to get ready. Laura and I will put your clothes out on the bed for you. Why don't you drink that and stretch out on the couch?"

"If I didn't trust you..."

"But you do," Laura said with a twinkle in her eye. "Besides, we've told your women about the shake. They think it's a really good idea. They have plans for you, Buster," Laura finished, barely holding back a giggle. "Besides, we took pity on you. Jeff's shakes were a lot bigger than the one you're holding. Bon appétit."

Art looked at the women for a second, then took a long pull on the straw. Diana and Laura got up to walk over to stand beside him. "You'll soon have two wonderful wives, and they're so madly in love with you," Diana said as she leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. A few seconds later, Laura did the same.

When the women were gone, Art sat worrying for a moment, then, Oh, what the hell,  he thought. They're right. If I'm asleep I won't be sitting here worrying about how I'm going to support my women. With determination, he began to drink the shake. When he had finished it, he put the empty glass on the coffee table, slipped his shoes off and stretched out on the couch. A couple of minutes later, he was deeply asleep and snoring.

-------

Jeff found Selina in the living room, her kitten riding her shoulder as she helped to put out decorations for the wedding. When he approached the little genius, she turned toward him, her hands clasped low in front of her. "Yes, My Prime?" she asked sweetly, the ends of her lips twitching almost imperceptibly.

"'My Prime, ' my butt," Jeff laughed as he picked her up and sat on a nearby chair with the six-year-old on his lap. Selina giggled as he tickled her for a few seconds. "I need to borrow your kitty."

"Certainly, My Prime," she said with another giggle. "What do you propose to accomplish with Billy sitting on your shoulder?"

"I'm going to have a chat with the Ship about teleportation. Who knows, maybe she'll have a solution to your teleporting kitten." Selina started to say something, her brow wrinkling in a frown, but Jeff hurried on. "I'm just going to ask her to evaluate him and his ability. I would never allow her to do anything that could possibly hurt him, and ... she would never do that, anyway."

"I should like to accompany you, if you would permit it."

"Run get your coat and tell Diana where you're going. I'll wear my coat with the inside pocket so Billy won't be cold."

"Certainly, my Prime," she replied, hurrying off.

-------

Jeff slipped on his coat, offering Billy an inside pocket. As if he realized they were going outside, Billy burrowed into the pocket, his face turned to look up at Jeff, the kitten's big eyes seeming to smile at the Prime.

"That pleases him," Selina said as she zipped her own coat.

Jeff petted the kitten a moment, then pulled his coat closed. The Prime would normally have jogged the few hundred yards to the Ship, but he didn't want Selina to get cold. She scampered down the steps and was inside the nearest Escalade before Jeff made it to his door.

A few minutes later, Jeff stopped at the end of the plowed-out path. I know she's there, but there isn't the slightest indentation in the snow, nor is there even a shimmer to suggest that she's hovering right here.

The ramp and hatch became visible as the two exited the Escalade. Selina reached to take Jeff's hand as they entered the Ship.

"Welcome aboard, Prime," the Ship said in his mind.

After Jeff greeted the AI, he and Selina slipped off their coats and Jeff put Billy on his shoulder. A few moments later, on the Ship's version of a bridge, "Sit there. She won't hurt you," Jeff encouraged as he pointed to the second command couch.

Jeff sat on the other couch/seat as he felt the Ship's mind begin to merge with his — or his with hers, but he knew neither expression was entirely correct. He heard a faint gasp and suppressed a grin as Selina's couch snuggled around her body. As his mind settled in with the Ship's, he thought how much easier it was now than it had been that first time in the mountain. Even after he had spent a couple of days in one of the healing chambers with the Ship studying him, the first joining of their minds on the bridge was nothing like this.

As Diana sometimes responded to him before a sentence was half out of his mouth, the Ship seemed to respond before his thought had completely formed. A partial thought of what was around them resulted in a multilayered response from numerous types of sensors feeding an almost unimaginable amount of information for him to choose from.

He flicked his mental view upward, the thought only half-formed before the Ship reacted. The blue ball of earth spun below him, satellites and debris circled the globe, their orbits and various uses in his mind even as the thought began to form. As he wondered, he suddenly had a view of the Retreat from one of the satellites. The Ship/Jeff's mind scanned every frequency the satellite used. The Ship was not visible on any of them. Even as the thought touched his mind, he felt the Ship's smug response.

He realized that less than a second had passed since his mind had merged with the Ship's. I wonder what a true Prime from a telepathic race could do when he merged with the Ship? Jeff thought with one layer of his mind, even as he explained about Billy with another level. The explanation consisted of a thought about what Billy had done. That thought keyed the whole scene in the living room when Billy had been terrified of the waste can. The gestalt was viewed in a blink and gave the Ship everything that happened in minute detail.

He could feel the Ship's amusement as layers of her mind touched Billy and Selina at the same time, even as she communicated with her Prime. Selina was curious about the "spider" the Ship had tried to intimidate her with. The Ship asked permission to show Selina the basic concepts that produced the all-too-real spider creature. On another level, and at the same time, she assured Jeff that she would not stress the child.

Billy began to purr as he lay on Jeff's chest. Jeff thanked the Ship and stood, Billy clambering to Jeff's shoulder.

"But..." Selina said as she put her feet on the deck and began to stand. "We have only just..."

Jeff took her hand to help her to her feet. "She ... uh 'showed' Billy how to stay away from solid objects when he teleports, and also 'showed' him the danger about going outside the Retreat without us."

"But..." Selina started. "We barely had time to sit..." she tried again.

"Billy understands now. 'Showed' is a poor description of what the Ship did. His ability to teleport is even better now, but he has a 'built-in' awareness of the danger. He doesn't have to reason about it; now it's more instinct than anything else. He won't ever teleport into a solid object. Nor will he teleport outside the Retreat under normal circumstances."

Selina hesitated, then looked up at Jeff, at a loss for words for a moment. After a short hesitation, the little genius responded with, "She demonstrated how to make one of those spider-like creatures appear. For a moment, I seemed to comprehend — now..."

"The way I seem to be able to understand how she manipulates the dimensions when I'm part of her brain, but after the connection is broken, I can't quite understand the subject."

Selina shrugged, but didn't comment, her brow furrowing as she contemplated what Jeff had said. Then, "But I wish to..." A smile lit up her face and she blurted, "She said she would converse with me again very soon, but that I must accompany you now."

As they walked down the hallway, there was a small "pop" as air rushed in to fill the void, and Billy was gone.

"Billy," Selina hissed out as she looked at Jeff's suddenly vacant shoulder.

"The Ship says he's fine," Jeff quickly responded before Selina had time to say anything else.

As they rounded the last turn in the corridor, Selina saw her kitten sitting near the hatch while nonchalantly licking a paw. He looked at his mistress. There was a "pop" again and he appeared on her shoulder.

Jeff let out a frustrated sigh. This isn't exactly how I anticipated this teleporting thing would turn out. I suspect this is going to get really old, very quickly. He reached out to pet the kitten, anyway. As he stared at Billy, Jeff thought he detected a smug look on Billy's face. We're going to have guests tonight, but all of them have been blocked. I need to get Jeremy and his women blocked before they discover that Billy can teleport. Diana says they're to be married Friday. Maybe I can get them up here on Thursday for their blocks. He's an Alpha; he'll take the block if I ask him to, and when he does, his women will, too.

"Let's get back so we can tell everybody that Billy's teleporting has been fixed." Well, the Ship says he won't get hurt teleporting, so she fixed what I was worrying about, but how are we going to keep him out of the kitchen, or anywhere else he's not supposed to be, for that matter?

Jeff scratched under Billy's chin. "Come on Little Dude," he said as he put Billy in his coat pocket. As soon as they were on the ramp and in the cold, there was a "pop" from inside Jeff's coat. Billy appeared on the dash of the SUV, looking out at them through the windshield.

Selina ran down the ramp and jerked the passenger door of the vehicle open. "That is not acceptable, Billy. You should have remained in our Prime's pocket."

"Mmeeow," the kitten responded to her scolding.

-------

As Selina and Jeff got out of the Escalade with Billy riding Selina's shoulder, they met in front of the vehicle and Jeff took Selina's hand. When they reached the top of the stairs, there was another "pop." Billy was gone.

As they opened the door, they saw the kitten bounding down the hall. With a "pop," he was gone again.

"Billy," Selina shrilled out.

"Pop," and he was standing in front of them, looking up at Selina.

"Mmeeow?"

Selina reached to pick him up. "Pop," and he disappeared.

As Jeff and Selina jogged down the hall and neared the living room, "Pop, pop."

Nat, Nicki and Whitney squealed out. Several of the women laughed.

"Pop, pop, pop."

As the two entered the living room, Billy moved from Diana's shoulder to Barbara's, then Melissa's, then to the arm of a chair, then by the big front window, back to Nat's shoulder, then to the stairs at the back of the living room. All the time, his head and tail were held high.

"Billy, stop that!" Selina yelled, only to have Billy appear on her shoulder. "Stop that," she scolded again.

"Mmeeow?"

Selina grabbed him off her shoulder, holding him nose to nose with her. "That is impolite."

All the women quickly gathered around, setting up the living room momentarily forgotten. "He's so cute, " Nicki said past giggles.

"I thought you were taking him to the Ship to fix his teleporting," Diana said to her husband.

"He is fixed," Jeff tried to defend himself from Diana's frowning stare. "His instinct will now keep him from going outside or teleporting into something."

With sarcasm evident, "Well now that he's 'fixed, ' it sounds like we have popcorn going in here. So how are we going to keep him out of the kitchen or from teleporting all over the place during the weddings?" she finished with slashing logic.

"I don't have the slightest idea," Jeff confessed as there was another "pop" and Billy left Selina to appear on Jeff's shoulder.

"Mmeeow," the kitten said as he sat to wash his paws.

Diana couldn't help but laugh. "Just look at him. Look at the way he's sitting. He's so proud of himself."



-------

Chapter 168


Jeremy was driving the big truck back to the shop with Denise and Connie riding with him. He had spent much of the day as he worked pondering what had happened to his life. He had a year of college behind him, plus another year of work with the resulting hard-earned savings safely in his bank account. That savings had come through working every hour his employer would allow him, and living in a hellhole of an apartment, plus scrimping by buying the cheapest food he could find. Dried beans of various varieties in addition to rice had graced his plate and formed much of his lunch almost every day. Most of the time he wouldn't even buy a soft drink for himself.

He had gotten used to drinking water instead of soft drinks, and now even preferred it — at least he told himself that. The company kept a big insulated water jug on the back of each of their trucks. It was one of Jeremy's duties to fill the jug on his crew's truck with fresh water every day, and in the warm months, with ice as well. Every time he passed up a soft drink and drank water instead, he told himself he had just saved another buck for his education. Then Connie and Denise had asked him to move in with them. After that, his world had rapidly changed — all for the better. In addition, he was now eating well-balanced meals at very little more cost than before. Now, thanks to Diana, the three of them would be eating steaks for the next several weeks.

But ... he had fallen in love with both of the women. While his mind was still staggering under the impact of that, Mr. Jackson had had a heart attack, and the company had suddenly been put up for sale. Just as the three of them were settling into their new relationship, and there was hope of their money problems smoothing out, disaster struck and their world was suddenly on the verge of collapse.

But ... their desperate and probably harebrained idea to get Mr. Matthews to buy the company seemed to take on a life of its own. The Matthews had welcomed them. Not only welcomed, but took them in as family. Something was done to them, but they weren't told how it was done. Now each of the three felt better than he or she had in their whole lives, and they seemed to bubble with energy. Somehow the three of them were talking marriage, and before he knew what was happening, they were being measured for wedding clothing.

Still,  Jeremy thought, talking about marriage a year from now is something I could handle. Oh, we all know we can't really get married, but having some sort of ceremony would help to bind us together, I suppose. I can't just shack up with the two of them. I wasn't raised that way. They've told me they love me, and I've told them the same thing. I never thought something like this would happen. How can I love two women? But Mom and Dad seemed to get along fine with Denise and Connie — well, once Mom and my women had a talk.

My women. That sounds odd ... but somehow it really doesn't. Alpha. What the crap is an Alpha? Mr., uh, Jeff is serious about the Alpha thing, though. He asked us not to mention our sudden good feelings, health, or whatever you want to call it, to anyone, and the same thing about Alphas. He said that Denise, Connie and I would soon look about the same age. How can that happen?

Married in a year. I could get my head around that — even marrying both of them, I guess. But Friday? Crap, that scares me more than when that scaffolding almost fell with me. I thought that I was in charge of my destiny, in control of our situation, that I would decide, but after last night, I'm wondering if that is even faintly true. All this seems like that proverbial snowball rolling down a mountain, getting bigger and bigger and going faster and faster all the time. I've let Connie and Denise manipulate me. I know it, and they know it. But somehow I don't seem to care. I want them for my wives. I want to make love to them. Really make love to them, not just with my mouth and hands, but to become one with them, to push my cock into them, to pump my sperm into them. Make love with them. Claim them for my own.

I always thought that the man was the one who was supposed to do the asking. I can't even remember who first mentioned marriage. We did discuss it at home, but everything just seemed to escalate when we arrived at that ... that mansion or hotel, or whatever it is. Whatever it is, it's the most beautiful building I've ever seen — inside and out. And how in the heck could I tell Connie and Denise "no" last night, when one of them was sucking my dick and the other one was trying to push her titty down my throat? Then they swapped. How many times did I come? I've come twice in a row before when I've been really excited and jerked off, but this was different. Well, duh, you idiot. Sure it was different. Two beautiful women sucking your dick and letting you suck their titties is a hell of a lot different than jacking off. But still, I came time after time. Men can't come repeatedly; can they? And the orgasms were beyond what I've ever thought possible. I don't even remember how many times I got my rocks off. My dick was so sore this morning that it hurt when my shorts touched it. Heck, maybe they rubbed their teeth against it when they were sucking me, but their sucking felt so good, I didn't noticed the pain. I sure noticed it this morning, but I didn't dare tell them that the head was bruised. No way am I going to scold them and mess up a good thing. Hmmm, I'm pussy-whipped, and I haven't even gotten the pussy yet. Not that they wouldn't give it to me in a heartbeat if I asked. Well, they would have before, but now that the wedding is scheduled for Friday, they're all for waiting. Wedding. Hmmm.

All the guys on the crew know that I'm a virgin. They've kidded me so much about it that it doesn't even bother me anymore. They ragged me when I moved in with Connie and Denise. Now today, the crew noticed the way my women looked at me, and have started to kid me about that. What do I care? Both girls are dolls, but they've never done anything with any of the guys at work, at least that I've noticed or heard about. Well, maybe something happened with Carl. I did see Denise glaring at him a few months back, and he had his finger all taped up for several weeks. I wonder if he put that hand somewhere he wasn't supposed to and she broke his finger for him. Both Denise and Connie are strong enough to do that.

With what they've told me about the men in their lives, I don't think I will ever have to worry about my women cheating on me — not as much as they hate what was done to them. Jeff says they will bond with me, and me with them — a stronger bond than we feel now, even. Diana has told them the bond is forever. Yep. My women have been manipulating me, right enough. Do I care? Heck no, but Mom is going to shit when she finds out I'm going to marry both of them. Then again ... maybe not. They seemed to get along fine after the three of them had their talk. And Dad ... I really think he's proud of me. And Paulette ... That little vixen loves me. I can do no wrong as far as she's concerned. I dread to think of her getting old enough to date. I imagine there will be some pissed off parents because I'm damn sure going to have a talk with any of the punks she decides to date. If I can stay a virgin until I get married, then they can keep their dicks in their pants when they date my sister.

Jeremy turned the lumbering truck into the lot, then reversing, began to back the big rig toward its parking place. Denise and Connie sat back so he could easily see his right mirror. He had to force his eyes to look at the mirror instead of straying to their breasts as their more erect posture displayed their assets for him. Both women knew what had happened and teased him about it as soon as he shut the truck down. He pretended not to know what they were talking about.

They had returned to the yard an hour before their normal quitting time because their crew had finished their current job a little earlier than expected. Ebbins walked over as soon as they were out of the truck.

"Got your choice. Connie can take the small crane and the three of you can restack the pipe there," he said, pointing to the northwest corner of the lot, "or you can take off an hour early. We're way over hours on this pay period, and the next job that Lee has us assigned to will take several days, so if you want to take off now, I don't care."

The three glanced at each other and the women nodded slightly, which Jeremy took to mean the decision was up to him.

"We'll call it a day," he answered.

"Done deal," Ebbins replied and turned to walk toward the rest of the crew.

Jeremy, Connie and Denise had planned to visit Jeremy's family to tell them about the wedding. When he had talked to his mom earlier in the day, he had told her they would visit after dinner. As the three got into Jeremy's pickup, he called his mother again. When she answered, he told her they had gotten off work early.

"Good. Then you can come for dinner. We're going to slaughter next week, but right now, I don't have enough hamburger meat. How about stopping by the store and picking up some more. It's too cold to eat outside, but we can grill burgers on the deck and eat at the table."

"We are not going to see your parents until we change out of our work clothes," Denise said with emphasis.

"Tell her this is a working farm and dirty clothes don't bother me at all. Tell her to get her butt on out here," Adriana said.

Jeremy had been holding the phone back a little from his ear so that both Connie and Denise could hear. "This is not the impression I want to make with my future mother-in-law," Denise quietly muttered.

Jeremy chuckled, "We're rolling, Mom. We'll pick up something for desert, too."

After telling Adriana he loved her, Jeremy broke the connection. It was obvious that Connie and Denise were skeptical about visiting Jeremy's parents while the two young women were still wearing work clothes.

Connie tried with, "Baby, we're going out there to tell them we're getting married and to invite them to our wedding. Granted that today wasn't a bad day as far as getting dirty is concerned, but we're still far from clean, and Connie and I aren't wearing even the slightest bit of makeup..."

Jeremy broke in before Connie could finish. "Mom is used to hardworking people. She's seen both of you in casual clothes. Friday night, she'll see the two of you all dressed up in beautiful wedding dresses with your makeup perfect. Tonight, she'll see you after you have just gotten off work. I guarantee that tonight will raise the two of you in her estimate more than most anything else you could wear. She'll realize that I'm marrying two beautiful women who will do their part to help support us, and she knows that will include college. We've told her about our education plans, and that we're pooling our money, but this will show her that you're serious. Mom is used to hard work. Trust me; she'll respect that in you."

Denise and Connie looked at each other before both of them grinned. "At least make sure we get a few minutes in the bathroom to clean up some when we first get there," Connie said.

Jeremy chuckled. "Standard procedure at our house. Washing up before we sit down at the table is a must when coming from the fields or the barn. You can bet that Dad will."

-------

The three stopped at a grocery store and bought meat, hamburger buns and a frozen pie. Back in the truck before they started out, Jeremy dialed the Retreat. Arlene answered, and soon had Jeff on the phone.

"You told me to call," Jeremy said.

The tone of Jeff's voice on the phone projected his good mood. "Yeah. Great news. My accountant just called and said he was at your company's office and would soon be working on the preliminary audit of the business. If everything goes alright, he and the attorney will be up here at two tomorrow afternoon to close the deal. We've already agreed on a price and have put down earnest money. Mr. and Mrs. Jackson have asked us to use Lee to run the company just as you suggested. So he should have a nice raise as soon as everything is done."

For a second, Jeremy wondered how things could happen so quickly, then he thought, I guess wealthy people get things done faster than I'm used to. If Mr. Matthews can get a lawyer and an accountant to come to his home to close a deal, it should be no problem to expedite some paperwork. There was silence until Jeff, wondering if he had lost reception, asked, "Did I lose you?"

"Uh, I guess, I..." Jeremy stumbled out. "I don't know what to say other than a very insufficient thank you, Mr. Matthews..."

Connie and Denise had overheard, and both women were hugging each other.

There was amusement in Jeff's voice as he said, "You can start out by dropping that 'Mr.' as I've already mentioned twice before. You're an Alpha. Alphas do not call me Mr. I really mean that. Alphas and their women are part of our extended family. Oh, yes," Jeff continued, his voice taking on a touch of teasing, "I think your college tuition problems are over." There was instant silence in the truck as the three strained to hear. "Your finder's fee should take care of that nicely for the three of you."

"Finder's fee?" Jeremy managed in a voice that threatened to crack.

"Did he say 'for the three of us?'" Denise whispered in Connie's ear.

"I ... I think so," Connie whispered back.

Jeff continued, "Well, conditional on the results of the audit tonight, of course. But Dave's gut feeling says the Jacksons have a viable company, and Fred is insistent that they aren't lying."

"Fred?" Jeremy managed.

"Yeah. He's another Alpha. He and I have been close for years. He's a retired police detective. He has a talent for knowing when someone is lying. He says the Jacksons are being truthful about their company, so I'm sure the audit will reflect that. Fred's never wrong about lies. Sheriff Tate can do it, too. You'll meet both of them soon."

"Mr., uh Jeff, we didn't come to you because we were trying for a finder's fee. I hardly even know what it is. We just wanted to save our company from being bought out by our competitors and causing us to lose our jobs. That's all we're interested in. We don't expect any kind of fee. It just seems ... wrong."

"Bullshit."

"But it wouldn't be right for us to take..."

"Again. Bullshit! If I hired someone to look for an investment for me, I damn sure would have had to pay him. Why then, should I cheat a brother Alpha? We'll discuss it when you come up Thursday."

"Thursday? Connie and Denise talked me into taking yours and Diana's loan for the dresses, and going ahead and getting married Friday. I'm pretty sure they talked to Diana at lunch," he said as he glanced at his two grinning women. "We asked our supervisor to have Friday off, if you're still willing to marry us..."

Both women grinned even bigger.

"Diana and I have already told you we would marry you, and gladly. The finder's fee is contingent upon the sale of the company, of course, but I suspect that's pretty much a done deal. If I own the company, the three of you are going to be off Thursday and Friday, with vacation next week. You need to be up here early Thursday to give the dress shop people time to make alterations if your clothes don't fit."

"We do have vacation coming," Jeremy got out, albeit a little weakly.

Diana came on the line, obviously having been listening in. "You can spend a week or two here at the Retreat for your honeymoon, or we'll send you wherever you want to go. We're hoping you'll stay here with us, but that certainly isn't a requirement. One of our Escalades will be at your disposal, of course, either for local trips, or should you decide, a prolonged trip around the country, or you can fly somewhere. It's your honeymoon."

"I ... don't know what to say."

"We do," Connie said loudly to make sure Diana and Jeff heard her. "Thank you!" she and Denise chorused, giggling and laughing.

"Thank you," Jeremy managed through a tight throat.

"No need to thank us," Jeff said. "Unless Dave's gut is wrong — and it has a tendency to be dead on — we're soon to be the proud owners of a business that has a very nice profit margin. Also, your company might well dovetail into Dave and Evie's construction business, but I'll leave decisions like that to the people who know what they're doing.

"Mr. Jackson and his wife get to retire to Florida a little earlier than they originally planned, and you three will be able to attend college without working yourselves to death in the process. Win — win. I'll give you a call as soon as the deal is completed. See you Thursday."

"Early," Diana added, "for breakfast, and we eat at six. Your future wives and I have a busy day ahead of us."

Connie had her hand over her mouth to keep from squealing like a schoolgirl. Denise was sitting back in her seat, her face flushed red as she struggled to believe what she had heard.

Jeremy ended the call, but just sat holding the cell in his hand as he stared out the windshield at the parking lot of the grocery store.

"Jeremy..." Connie said, weakly.

"How much do you think the finder's fee will be?" Denise asked in a voice that wasn't much stronger.

Jeremy seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing, and put the phone away, but still didn't respond for a half minute or so. Then, seeming to shake himself mentally, "He said something about our loan for the clothes and college for all three of us. But ... a finder's fee can't be that much, can it? And we weren't trying to make money out of this. We just wanted our jobs to continue, and for all the other guys also, of course."

He leaned forward to start the engine, barely paying attention as he automatically pulled his seatbelt into place. Suddenly, he had a laughing Connie in his lap, her mouth covering his as she kissed him so hard she crushed his lips against his teeth. "You're gonna be our husband," she chortled.

"Get your pretty butt out of our man's lap so I can have my turn," Denise said with laughter in her voice.

There was a short scramble that reflected the abilities of the two women who were used to climbing ladders and working on steel structures well above ground level before Denise sat in Jeremy's lap and glued her lips to his. When she finally pulled back, she breathlessly said, "It's going to be hard to wait until Friday — really, really hard."

As Jeremy grinned, Denise realized what she was sitting on and wiggled her butt. "Really hard," she laughed.

-------

When Jeremy shut the truck off in his parents' yard, Connie and Denise were no longer laughing. "Your mom is going to shit," Connie quietly said.

"We'll be lucky if she doesn't throw us out," Denise added, very seriously.

"So, maybe we need to eat before we tell them," Jeremy teased, barely holding back laughter that both women were well aware of.

"It is not funny," Denise declared. "I had rather climb that damn tank again. (Referring to a two hundred foot tall water tank they had worked on during the previous week.) I just thought that was the worst thing I had ever done in my life. That wasn't even close to how scared I am now."

"You got along with her just fine when we were out here before. What are the two of you so worried about now?"

The two women looked at each other, unable to understand why Jeremy didn't realize their predicament. "Baby," Connie said, "we think your mom is a wonderful person, your dad and sister too, but ... the last time we were here, we were your girlfriends who had never even slept with you. We still haven't gone all the way, true, but tonight we're going to tell Adriana we're shortly to become your wives. Wives. As in plural. Not one, but two older women are going to marry her son ... She is not going to take this well."

"Eight years doesn't make one damn bit of difference, and besides, Jeff says with the enhancement — whatever the heck that is — we'll soon all look about the same age."

"That still leaves her with your marrying both of us. Your mom is not going to like this," Denise predicted as she opened her door. "But ... I'm hungry. I say we had better eat first, because she's gonna throw us out of her house when she hears our plans."

When he got out of the truck, Jeremy, with a grin on his face, hooked the two small bags of groceries over his fingers and started for the front steps. Connie and Denise walked beside him, looking as if they were on their way to an execution — their own. The front door opened and Paulette, Jeremy's fourteen-year-old sister, ran down the steps to meet them. At the last instant, she jumped, landing with her arms locked around her brother's neck and her legs around his waist.

Jeremy staggered a step back as he regained his balance. Taking the opportunity, she kissed him hard on the mouth for a couple of seconds — which was all she figured she could get away with — then pulling back, said, "I missed you, Big Brother."

"I missed you too, Runt," he grinned back at her. "You been keeping the boys in line?"

"No boys around me, and you know it." Dropping down, she turned to Denise, hugged her, then Connie. "Come on, I thought you would never get here. Daddy has the grill ready."

As they entered the living room, Jeremy's mom and dad met them. His mom hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Wow. You're looking good, Son. These two must be feeding you well."

"They are, Mom."

As Adriana turned to hug Denise and Connie, Van put his hand on his son's shoulder for a moment, flicking his eyes toward the two young women. Quietly, "Well done, Son."

Jeremy took a breath. "Let's all sit for a moment."

"What?" Denise got out, almost suppressing the tremor in her voice.

Then from Connie, "No, Jeremy. At least let us clean up and eat first."

"Sit," Jeremy insisted. "Our clothes won't hurt the furniture. We need to get this said now."

"What's wrong?" Adriana worried.

"Not a thing, Mom," Jeremy responded as he pulled Connie and Denise down beside him on the couch.

"Is this an adult talk?" Paulette said, the sarcasm in her voice mostly hidden.

"Yeah, Runt. It's an adult talk, but we're all adults here, right?"

Paulette looked at him and grinned. "Oh, but you must be in really big trouble if you're trying to include me in adult things. Might need my vote, huh?" she teased. "You know you've got it, Big Brother."

Van sat in one of the big, over-stuffed seats, and Adriana sat on his lap. Paulette pushed another seat nearby and sat with a grin.

Adriana, noticing the look on Connie's and Denise's faces, said, "I'm his mom, but I'm not blind. It's obvious something is up, and you two look serious. When serious things come about, Van and I face things together."

"It's serious, Mom, but it's something good. We're getting married. And before you ask, all three of us. I'm marrying both Connie and Denise."

Denise and Connie both bit their lips, their expressions identical.

There was a chuckle from Van. "Told you," he said to his wife.

Paulette sucked in a breath. "Wow!"

Connie and Denise sat frozen as they waited for the explosion from Adriana. "That's polygamy. No. No. No. Please don't misunderstand. I'm not necessarily against it; I even saw it coming. But it's against the law," she said, directing her gaze toward the two women. How are..."

"No license," Jeremy broke in. "Just a marriage by two very nice people we know. Wedding dresses, a nice suit for me, the whole nine yards, but nothing official as far as the state is concerned."

"Told you," Van said again, this time very quietly into his wife's ear.

Adriana directed her gaze back to Connie and Denise. "You two are fully into this?"

"One hundred..." from Connie.

" ... percent," Denise finished without either woman even noticing what they had done. Denise continued with, "We've both fallen in love with your son, and he has with us. Connie and I have been married before, as we told you, but we aren't ... sluts. We love Jeremy more than we ever thought possible. And no, we still haven't had sex, and ... we won't until after we're married. Admittedly, that's mostly your son's idea, but we've all agreed to wait."

Connie continued with, "This wasn't supposed to go down exactly like this. Denise and I were going to wait until after dinner to ask the two of you — no, the three of you — for Jeremy's hand in marriage. We know that's old-fashioned and the sex thing is turned around, but we want the blessings of all three of you. We want to be part of this family. Denise and I have agreed that we won't marry him unless all three of you give your permission."

There was total silence for a moment, and no one had noticed the changes in Paulette's expressions as they talked. Suddenly, she got up and ran out of the room. Shortly, a door slammed.

Jeremy was having a hard time believing what he had heard from his women. But Denise and Connie were the ones who brought up getting married, weren't they? Now they've hinged everything on what my family will say. I didn't expect this. When Paulette had run out, his thoughts had spiraled downward even more. I think Paulette just changed her vote.

Adriana and Van glanced at each other for a second, then Adriana got up to go after her daughter.

"Let us, please," Denise said as she and Connie stood. "We caused the problem."

"She has a temper," Adrianna warned.

"She'll listen to me," Jeremy began.

Connie touched his shoulder. "She's in love with her big brother. That's one reason why we wanted to wait until after dinner. We wanted to ease into this, but ... this might work out better after all."

Adriana was shaking her head, "Look, you two. She really does love her brother, but I didn't expect this. I..."

"She doesn't just love her brother," Connie said, "she's in love with him. Denise and I both noticed it when we were out here before. We know how she feels. Now, not only is Jeremy marrying, but he's marrying two women, and she's too young to compete."

Denise and Connie were out of the living room before anyone had a chance to speak.

"Oh, shit," both Jeremy and Van said at almost the same time.

-------

Denise knocked lightly on Paulette's door. After hearing nothing, she knocked again. There was a muffled, "Go away," from inside the room.

The two glanced at each other for a second before Connie turned the knob and eased the door open. Paulette, quietly sobbing, lay face down on the bed. Before she could respond, the two women lay beside her, each putting an arm across the girl. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to dislodge the now encircling arms. "Go away," she grated out. "You have what you wanted."

"Not without your consent," Denise said barely above a whisper.

"So you..." sob, "have it. Go get married," Paulette managed.

"No, that won't do," Connie said after she and Denise locked eyes for a second. "We know you're in love with him. We'll just have to wait until you're old enough to marry him, too."

That got a set of wide eyes staring back at Connie from Denise, then after a moment, a reluctant nod of agreement from her.

"What ... what did you say," Paulette's muffled voice said as her face pressed into the bed.

"Oh, we surely don't want to wait, but we understand. After all, we love him too," Connie whispered. "Neither Denise nor I would marry him without the other one being able to. You love him too, so we'll just have to wait until you're old enough."

Paulette turned over as she wiped tears from red and swollen eyes. "I'm ... almost fifteen. I can marry at sixteen, but Mom and Dad would have to sign for me — and they won't. I will have to be eighteen before I ... could marry without their signature. But then again, you're messing with me. You're not going to wait. You're lying to me."

Denise sighed. "No, unfortunately, we're not. And before you say anything, we're talking about Jeremy. He won't have sex with us without marriage. Oh, we surely want to marry him — want him with all our being. This will not mean we'll be having sex with him and just waiting to make it official, either. He absolutely won't have sex before we're his wives. This will mean we all wait."

"He won't? Surely, you wouldn't really wait on me to be old enough? That's ... hard to believe."

"We don't lie, Little Lady. We don't." Connie adamantly said as tears began to trickle down her own cheeks.



-------

Chapter 169


Paulette sat up on the side of the bed, Connie and Denise a second later. The girl looked first at Connie, then turned to Denise. To more easily look both women in the face, Paulette moved to a chair near the bed. "You really love my brother, don't you?"

"Yeah, Baby, we do," Denise answered, then reaching over to take Connie's hand, said, "Connie and I have worked together awhile now and have become best friends, maybe even more than that. I think we're as close as any two sisters could ever be." Connie smiled back as Denise went on. "She finally moved away from that idiot she was living with. Hmmm, make that supporting; it better reflects their association. He came after her a few days ago – hit her in front of Jeremy. Big mistake. Jeremy trashed his butt almost before Blain could blink. We could feel Jeremy's anger. And Paulette, he ... somehow projects his love to us. We could feel it just as we could his anger, but after night before last, we somehow feel it much stronger."

As Denise hesitated, Connie took up the narrative. "At first, we thought it was just our emotions, or maybe we were imagining things. But somehow, something has happened. We felt Jeremy's anger to some small extent when Blain hit Connie, but today, we felt his love like ... I don't know. Like a tidal wave pouring over us or ... There aren't words to describe it. It's not that we think he loves us; we know he does. And ... we could not love him more." Denise hesitated a moment, wondering at her own words. "Maybe Connie and I are both crazy. How can we possibly feel his love for us? But darn it, we do."

Connie squeezed Denise's hand, her own eyes brimming with tears of love. Blinking, she smiled at Paulette. "We didn't come here to hurt you, and we're sorry that we have done just that."

Paulette was shaking her head. "He doesn't love me the way he does you two," she quietly said. "Oh, I know he loves me, but I've never felt it. I guess he loves me like a brother should love his sister, but I must love him like a lover, I guess. I'm in love with him. I know I'm young, but I also know what I feel. I'm in love with him. I can't help it, " she finished, struggling to hold the tears back – tears that didn't quite spill from her eyes this time.

When they had entered Paulette's room, Connie and Denise hadn't fully closed the door. Van slowly pushed it open enough to stick his head in. "Why don't we all go back in the living room? Adriana and I have some things we need to say."

Paulette came quickly to her feet. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I guess..."

"Hush," he said as he stepped in to hug her, "you're not in trouble." Taking a step back, he continued, "Adriana fixed some coffee for us. Come on to the living room. We need to talk."

-------

Jeremy sat between Connie and Denise on the couch. Paulette, Van and Adriana sat facing the other three, everyone with coffee. Paulette took a nervous sip of her very white brew, a frown creasing her pretty face. The silence quickly became uncomfortable. "Dad, I didn't mean to upset everyone..." Jeremy started.

But Van had raised his hand a little, signaling that Jeremy should wait. Van reached over to take his wife's hand, locked eyes with her for a second, then turned back to the others. "Adriana and I have a story to tell, but first I need a solemn oath from everyone in this room that what I'm about to tell you will never be discussed with an outsider without first having the approval of Adriana and myself. Paulette, that includes you, too. This is an adult oath and it means forever. If our secret gets out, Adriana and I will have to give up everything we have and move somewhere where no one knows us. I want everyone here to look me in the eye and individually swear to me."

"Dad, have you killed someone?"

Van stared at his son for a moment. "Yes, I have, but it was ruled justified, and I did it to protect your mother a long time ago. You were a toddler then. But that incident has nothing to do with what I'm going to tell you. Now I need everyone here to swear before God. You first, Son."

Jeremy didn't hesitate. "I swear before God that I will never discuss with an outsider what you're about to tell us, unless you and Mom have first given your permission to do so."

Paulette put her cup on the coffee table and sat erect. Staring at her dad, she took a breath. With the realization that her father was now, indeed, treating her as an adult, she swallowed the lump in her throat. Hoping her voice wouldn't betray the turmoil inside her, she repeated what her brother had said, obviously meaning every word of it.

Connie and Denise were sitting with their chairs close together. The two reached out to hold hands. Connie gave the vow, followed by Denise, the women only changing the wording from mom and dad to Van and Adriana.

Adriana squeezed her husband's hand. "Baby, this is the point of no return. We can still turn back. Are you sure about this?"

Van squeezed her hand back, "We've almost told Jeremy this twice before, and I think Paulette is old enough to hear it now. It's time." Then facing Jeremy, "We've wanted to tell you for a long time. We felt we had to eventually – tell both of you, that is – but the time never seemed right. Now it's a must. And Paulette, we're showing you a trust that would normally be beyond your years. But you have acted very adult for the last six months or so, and your mom and I have noticed. You will have to pay particular attention when you're around your friends, though. There can not be a single slip."

"I understand, Daddy. I swore an oath. Nothing will make me tell."

Van looked Jeremy in the eye, then Paulette. "Some of what we've said in the past about our lives could be considered a cover story, I suppose, but it's time for both of you to know what really happened." Hesitating a second while he looked back at his wife, he turned again to Jeremy and continued, "While Adriana was pregnant with you, Jer, we came here and bought this farm. We had lived in Montana, but we had to move. We were married at the courthouse a couple weeks after we moved here. We had barely enough money to buy this place, and it took a while before we had a decent income. Times were hard for us, and we worried that our secret would become known.

"You see, Adriana had her name changed just before we left Montana. Oh, it was a legal change of names, but the circumstances were not ordinary. She changed her name from Carter to Wilson. When we married, she became a Carter again. Mom and Dad had been killed in a robbery not too long before we left Montana. We wanted to be on our own, but the child protection agency in Montana was going to put Adriana in a foster home. Some money changed hands since she wasn't old enough to be able to get her name changed on her own. Times were different then, Son, and we lived not too far outside a small town. The lawyer was a family friend and he had ... connections; I guess you could say.

"Dad didn't believe in banks so he kept his money in a small safe behind a bedroom wall. I took that money, and the money the family lawyer got for us when we sold the small ranch we were raised on. With the money and a few clothes, we boarded a bus."

"But why would you do that?" Denise started, then when realization struck, "Oh."

Adriana got up to sit in Van's lap, snuggling her head on his shoulder.

"Mom, your name was Carter before you married Dad? Was it just a coincidence of the family name? I mean..."

"We're brother and sister," Van put in. "Adriana was barely past the age of consent when we moved, and she certainly wasn't legal when we first started making love, or when I impregnated her. I have never understood why she loved me, but I knew I was going to marry her if I could just figure out a way. After we arrived here, Adriana's 'father' signed for her to get married. I think the lady at the courthouse here knew, but your mom told her about the pregnancy. Back then, when you got a girl pregnant, you married her. A few years later, you came along," Van said, turning to Paulette.

Adriana continued for Van, "We stopped trying after you were born, Paulette. Both of you are normal, maybe a little smarter than normal, even, but we figured we had pushed our luck far enough. So I went on birth control."

Jeremy started to say something, but Adriana and Van had come to their feet, and Van shook his head. "Jeremy, let's you and I get the burgers started. We can eat while the things I've told you sink in. After dinner, we'll answer any questions you may have."

-------

Jeremy, Connie and Denise had a quick conference as they washed their hands and faces in the bathroom, all three going in together and closing the door. "You two sure about this? She's my sister; I can't change things later on if we don't all get along."

"I'm sure," Connie said as she dried her hands and face.

"Me, too," Denise agreed. "We can't just let her suffer. She's got to be part of us, too. Well, when your parents say she's old enough."

Jeremy looked at the other two. "She's not quite fifteen. Granted, she acts older, and I guess even looks older, but..."

Denise reached out to touch him. "She loves you, Baby. She told us that she's old enough for real love. Somehow, we..."

" ... both believe her," Connie finished.

"But ... what if..."

"What?" both women said.

"Well I..."

"You thought we would be jealous of her?" Connie finished for him, a grin touching her lips.

"Well, yeah."

"Want us to be?" Denise teased.

"Uh, of course not."

Connie grabbed the towel from the rack to dry her face. "We're the intruders. She's loved you longer than we've known you."

Jeremy sighed and took his place to wash up, wondering what would happen. "Going to be an interesting conversation after dinner."

-------

Jeremy and his father stood on the deck as Van took patties off the grill with a set of tongs, transferring the meat onto a platter that Jeremy was holding. "Dad, I apologize. I didn't expect Paulette to react the way she did."

Van put the last of the patties onto the platter, then stopped to catch his son's eye. "Your mom told me more than a year ago that she worried that Paulette was falling in love with you. You should hear your sister; she talks about you every single day. And ... her voice changes when she does. We had hoped it was just an infatuation for her older brother, but finally we resigned ourselves to it being more than that."

"Dad, the scary thing is that I feel that way about her, too. Please don't hate me. I certainly haven't done anything inappropriate to her."

Van blew out a resigned sigh. "Oh, I know that. But I would have to be a real hypocrite if I found fault with you for being in love with your sister when I did the same with your mother. Come on, let's get these inside before they get cold."

At the table a few minutes later, Van gave thanks for the food. Jeremy wolfed down two burgers before eating the third one a trifle slower, finally forcing himself to stop after three and two glasses of milk. His stomach was full, but his appetite still screamed at him. Denise and Connie quit after two burgers and a glass of iced tea each, but Jeremy knew they would all have a steak when they returned home. Jeff and Diana told us we would be very hungry, but this is bordering on ridiculous. What have they done to us?

With dinner over, the women made short work of putting the leftover food away and starting the dirty dishes in the washer. After putting coffee on the table, along with soft drinks, they sat with the men. Van, surprising everyone as he turned to his daughter and said, "Talk to us about the reason you ran out of the living room, please."

"Dad, I'm sorry, I've already tried to apologize..."

Van shook his head. "I'm not fussing at you, Baby. This is still an adult discussion. There certainly isn't going to be any punishment. Jeremy, Connie and Denise came to us with an announcement. You had already said you voted yes to whatever Jeremy wanted to ask us. Go over what happened, and tell us your reasons for running out."

Paulette took a breath, then resigning herself, cast her gaze toward Jeremy while speaking to her dad. "I ... I'm in love with Jeremy. I've dreamed about marrying him ever since I started through puberty, but when I realized why he was here tonight and my dreams would never come true, I just lost it. Oh, I guess I knew the dreams were just fantasies, but I can't get Jer off my mind. I want to be his wife so bad. But I wound up hurting Connie and Denise," she finished, saying the last to them.

"Yeah, that had to be a shock to them when you ran out of the room crying," Van offered.

"No dad. Well, yeah, I guess that did hurt them, but I hurt them a lot more in another way." Van raised an eyebrow and Paulette went on, her voice breaking. "When I told them how much I loved Jeremy and that I knew I had little chance of his marrying me, even without them being in the picture, they, uh, told me that Jeremy wouldn't have sex with them until after they're married. And ... that they knew he wouldn't have sex with me before he married me, either. They, uh ... said they would wait until I was old enough before they married him."

Paulette broke down in sobs. Adriana quickly got up and went around the table to put her arms around her daughter.

"They said ... they said they would wait for me to be old enough to marry him," Paulette sobbed. "If I couldn't have him, then they would wait for me. I don't want that," she finished, trying not to wail.

Jeremy sat up straight, then looked a question at Connie and Denise, who both refused to look him in the eye.

Paulette continued, "I really, really want him, but I don't want Connie and Denise to have to wait for me. I was just being selfish." Suddenly, Paulette's demeanor changed as she turned to look up at her mother. "Mom, with you two being brother and sister, you have to know how I feel, right?"

Adriana hesitated for a second. "Yes, Baby, I do – we do." She hugged her daughter harder, then kissed her tear-stained cheek. "So if..."

Jeremy broke in with, "I do love you, Paulette. Have for as long as I can remember. First as my younger sister, then a little later with a lot more depth. Remember how I used to take you with me everywhere I went?"

"But you never even kissed me, other than just a peck on the cheek. I was always the one who kissed you on the mouth, and that for only a few seconds."

"And those kisses have gotten longer lately," he teased.

"If I had known Mom and Dad's story, I would have kissed you longer still," she said with a choked-off giggle.

Jeremy got up to stand on the other side of his sister. After catching the eyes of Denise and Connie, and receiving a nod from them, "You mean like this?" he said, leaning down to kiss Paulette on the mouth.

Adriana could feel her daughter shiver as the kiss progressed. After a moment, she peeled Paulette's hand loose from hers when Paulette's nails began to penetrate. If Paulette noticed, she gave no indication of it.

Jeremy finally pulled back, "I love you, Runt," he teased.

"I love you too, Big Brother," Paulette answered in a weak voice.

Jeremy hugged her, then returned to his seat after refreshing coffee for those who wanted it. "Now what?" he asked.

Paulette sat up straight and with a stronger voice said, "If this is to be an adult meeting, then I have an adult's say. Right?" At her dad's nod, she continued, "I apologize for my reaction earlier." Turning to face Denise and Connie, "I want to apologize for what happened in the bedroom. I want the two of you to marry my brother. Waiting for me would be ridiculous, and in addition to hurting you two, it would hurt my brother."

"Are you sure about that?" Connie asked.

"Absolutely. In my defense, this was a shock to me." She hesitated as she turned again to her father, "I want to marry my brother – have a baby with him, but I'm not quite fifteen. I didn't expect what happened in the bedroom. I vote for Jeremy, Connie and Denise to be married with our blessings. I would like to ... petition to be Jeremy's third wife when Mom and Dad think I'm old enough." The last was directed at Connie and Denise.

"She's been watching too many of those courtroom drama things on TV," Van muttered, but grinned when he said it.

Again addressing her mother and father, "I would also like to petition to spend at least one night per week with the three of them, if they will let me. I promise that I won't try to have sex with my brother until you give your permission, and until Denise and Connie do too," she quickly added.

Van and Adriana looked at each other, Van eventually shifting his gaze back to his daughter. "We won't give our permission yet. Oh, we don't have a problem with your spending a night each week with them, with their consent, of course, but the marriage and the sex will have to wait for several years yet."

Paulette saw a frown flick across her mother's face with Van's last comment, but Paulette knew better than to try to push things at this point. Dad said that Mom was barely past the age of consent when she became pregnant with me, but they had been making love long before that. Hmmm. I wonder just how long that really was. Now isn't the time, but I'm beginning to think that Mom is on my side in this. I need to be absolutely certain I don't act like a child. Cool and calm will get me more in this than an argument ever will. Arguments are now a thing of my past. Mom and Dad have never really had any major problems with me – well, that I remember, but from now on they are going to see a young lady who is a lot more adult than they're used to. The same young lady is going to increase her cooking abilities, and that with a vengeance. I have to learn how to take care of my man.

Hmmm. Mom and I have a lot of talking to do about a lot of things. What better person to teach me how to please a man and be a good wife? Mom and Dad make love almost every night. They try to keep the noise down, but this is an old house, and it's quiet out here. I caught them twice when I got out of school early. Well, I didn't actually see them making love, but I surely heard them loudly enough. I guess they weren't worried about my hearing them since they thought I was at school. I stayed out of that end of the house, but when Mom came into the kitchen and realized that I had been home awhile, she blushed and said she hoped they hadn't embarrassed me too much. Embarrassed me, no. Made me horny, oh yeah.

Mom has really big nipples and they nearly poke a hole in her top if she leaves her bra off. That day, her nipples looked like I could have hung my key ring on either of them. Yep, Mom is in for a question and answer session. By the time I'm old enough, I'm going to know how to please my man. I'll start with cooking. I can do the basics now, but it's time I spent more hours in the kitchen. I want to be a really good cook like Mom.

Now, I need to calm down and talk to Connie and Denise about going ahead with their marriage. I surely don't want them resenting me. I can live with a night a week with them while I wait. Talking about looking forward to the weekends. Well one night a week and a vibrator when I'm home will hold me until I'm old enough. I know Mom has one. It's about time she bought me one, too.

-------

Diana and Laura walked into Art's temporary suite to find him still soundly asleep. The Queen put a hand on his shoulder to gently shake him. "Wake up, Art. Time to get married."

Art shot upright. "What? Am I late?" he got out with barely concealed terror underlying his words.

"No, silly. You have plenty of time. Go take a shower and shave while we lay out your clothes."

Art thanked them and went on in to take a shower, thinking that the women would lay out his clothes and be gone when he got out. He showered, paying particular attention to his groin. After toweling off, he stepped into the vanity area to shave. As he started to lather his face, he thought he heard a noise. Listening, he froze as he distinctly heard Diana and Laura quietly talking.

Almost panicking, he was back in the shower area in a blink. Looking frantically around, he realized that they had taken his clothes while he showered. "Uh, ladies, I don't have any clothes in here. I, uh, need you to leave so I can shave and get dressed."

"Oh, don't be silly," Diana called out. "We're not going to stare at you, but you're probably going to need us to get this cummerbund on properly. And we'll help with the tie, too. Time's a wasting."

"I'm not coming out there naked..." he said, trying not to whine as he wrapped a towel around himself.

"Oh, all right," Diana laughed. "We'll bring you your shorts and tee shirt. Surely that will be enough for you to shave in."

Art didn't think it was, but he could tell they were having too much fun to leave now. "Okay, but just hand them ... in the door," he finished as the bathroom door opened partway and a female hand reached in to give him his shorts and tee shirt.

"Get a move on, and don't you dare cut yourself. You would look really silly with a piece of toilet paper stuck to the side of your face while you waited for your brides to walk down those stairs."

They're just teasing me,  he thought as he hastily donned his underwear, took a breath, flung the door open and walked to the vanity sinks, trying his best to ignore the fact that they were probably watching him from the bedroom. My shorts cover as much as a bathing suit. Just calm down. I've got to get ready. I don't have much time before the wedding. As he lathered his face, his thoughts continued. Women have a sick sense of humor. Crap, I'll bet that Sandra and Bobby put them up to this.

Thinking of his brides had another effect, and it brought terror back to the fore as he felt his dick beginning to swell. Oh, shit. I can't get a hard on now. Not with those two in here. What if it won't go down, or what if it comes back up again while I'm standing in front of everybody? Damn that shake.

Almost as if she were reading his mind, Diana walked in with a jock strap dangling from her long index finger, her face devoid of the slightest bit of expression. "Might want to put this on. That shake was pretty potent. We wouldn't want you to be embarrassed when you see your wives."

Art threw the razor down, his face half shaved, grabbed the jockstrap and in two steps was back in the bathroom with the door firmly closed behind him. Jerking his shorts down, he stared at his cock. Shit, it's at half-mast already. What the hell am I going to do?

Desperate, he turned the water on in the sink in the bathroom. Hunched over the sink, he put the head of his dick in the cold tap water.

"Art, are you having a problem in there?" Diana called out.

Damn, where does that water come from? It has to be the coldest tap water I've ever felt,  he thought as he held his dick under the flowing water. "Be there in a minute," he called out in a voice that he hoped didn't sound as bad to them as it did to him. He dried his somewhat deflated dick, donned the jockstrap, put his shorts back on and walked out of the bathroom to resume shaving. Thankfully, the women were again out of sight in the bedroom, although he could still hear them discussing the wedding.

-------

The young agent stood near Jeff and Diana by the big window just as the sun cast its last rays of golden light on the snow-covered mountain. I hope I don't make a fool out of myself,  a very nervous Art Hanes thought. Jeff said to make sure I didn't lock my knees, and to take slow, deep breaths. Where did all these people come from? I know the Alphas and their mates, but I haven't met all the members of his security. And who is that older couple there? Those dress uniforms are sharp. I'm flattered. Also, not many people have a General attend their wedding, but he told me I was a brother. I wonder if... 

The music changed as Evie blasted out the first bars of the bridal march. Whatever Art had been thinking was blown from his mind as he saw his brides start down the winding staircase at the other end of the living room.

After a moment, "Breathe," Jeff whispered into the young agent's ear.

Realizing that he had, indeed, been holding his breath, Art took a deep breath and tried to smile. When the women reached the bottom of the stairs, he could see they were holding hands. They're beyond beautiful. How can I be so lucky? What do they see in me? I hope those cameras work properly, I want to watch this the rest of my life. And to think all this started with a gunfight. And ... I'd go through it all again if that's what it would take to wind up where I am now. Suddenly worry hit. What do I have to say? Oh, yeah, just "I do." He felt Jeff's hand grip his shoulder. Somehow that helped to calm his jangled nerves.

Time seemed to stutter-step forward. With shocking suddenness, he, Sandra and Bobby were standing before the Prime and his Queen. He had worried that his voice would fail, but to his own amazement, it sounded firm, even to him. "I do."

He waited, holding his breath again until he heard his brides say those magic words. Somehow, he had worried they would back out at the last moment.

He hadn't fumbled the rings, amazing himself yet again. Now, Art, Sandra and Bobby were holding hands facing the Prime and Queen. Diana and Jeff were holding hands also. "We now pronounce you husband and wives," they said in unison as they reached forward with their free hands to clasp each of Art's shoulders. With an intensity that was startling, Art felt the bond form between his mates and himself; felt also the bond that bound the three of them to Diana and Jeff. The gasp and shiver from Sandra and Bobby was evidence that they had felt the bonds as well.

Art had believed that Jeff was different – maybe drastically different – than other men. He was the only man on Earth who could command the alien starship, was faster with a weapon than it seemed possible anyone could be, commanded a team that in minutes wiped out a heavily armed force that outnumbered Jeff's team. But now Art knew Jeff was a Prime, and no less so, knew the woman standing beside the Prime was the clan Queen. Art squeezed his wives' hands, all three of them knowing that something had bound them together forever.

This man who stood before him – his Prime – wore a suit. A nice suit, true, but still a suit, not a tuxedo, and his Queen wore a very nice dress, her figure and mane of auburn hair, breathtaking, her beauty beyond words, but her dress was no match for the beautiful wedding dresses of Art's mates. The couple's attire was deliberate, Art knew, so there would be no conflict or competition with the brides' dresses or the groom's tux. Despite that, Diana projected the stately, regal air of a true Queen, and the Prime was ... a Prime, no matter what he dressed in.

Time seemed to stop as Art kissed his brides, then Diana encouraged the three to turn. They stood, arms around each other, as Diana introduced the newlyweds to the audience.



-------

Chapter 170


As soon as the wedding was over, Selina, in her bridesmaid dress, hurried to retrieve her kitten from Dave.

"Thank you for attending to my kitten, Mr. Henson. I did not hear a single pop. I feared that Billy would attempt to regain my shoulder during the ceremony, thus causing a distraction."

Dave chuckled as he passed Billy to his mistress. "I thought about what Jeff had said the Ship did to keep Billy from teleporting into solid objects, so I just kept a hand constantly on him. I don't know whether that interfered with his teleporting or not, but he never left me and seemed content to sit on my lap and be petted. Maybe the Ship installed some type of failsafe or something in his mind. It ... just seemed to be a reasonable assumption since she told Jeff that Billy would not teleport into anything solid."

Selina stood for a second, then, "That is, indeed, a reasonable assumption. I had failed to consider that. Perhaps we should deliberate another aspect, however. Would the teleportation, as it ensued, include your appendage? Hypothesize that Billy could teleport while your hand was on him. Would he, therefore, take your hand with him?"

Dave showed no reaction other than his eyes widening a bit. "Never thought of that, but he doesn't take part of your clothing as he teleports from your shoulder..."

"His teleportation has frequently involved solid objects at some point in the trajectory." The little genius continued dryly, "Thus it logically follows that he could still teleport with your hand on him without presenting danger to you or him. I shall have to confirm this hypothesis without endangering anyone. I must contemplate this for a time..."

"Or ask the Ship," Evie said as she walked up, having finished her duties at the piano.

"Very logical," Selina responded after a half second of contemplation. "I should have considered that alternative."

Evie smiled down at the six-year-old. "Are you going to take him to the reception?"

"That was my original intention. Any effort to isolate Billy in his kennel or lock him in my bedroom has become a senseless endeavor. A previous attempt to confine Billy in that manner resulted in his teleportation into the hallway where he sat, apparently waiting for me to discover his location. I scolded him. Perhaps he now recognizes the significance of my censure. Hmmm, no, that isn't likely at this juncture. I should take Billy back to our suite and remain there with him during the reception."

"And just how long do you think it would take Diana to realize that you were missing?"

Selina knew the question was rhetorical so she didn't answer.

Evie continued with, "Linda and Kim are serving, so I get to visit with my husband. Diana told me she is expecting Billy to pop around, and she was obviously amused at the thought. I've heard that cats can't taste sweets, so maybe he'll stay away from the cake. Anyway, Dave and I will be free to help watch him should you need us."

-------

Art, Sandra and Bobby stood in the hallway just outside the honeymoon suite. Art tried to work his fingers down his shirt collar in the back, but he couldn't seem to reach the rice that had been stuffed there. Sandra and Bobby both tried to help, but their amusement and stifled giggles weren't improving the situation.

Art, resigning himself to the rice, picked Bobby up. Laughing, the new wife waved to the others who stood watching farther down the hall.

"Get a room," someone yelled out from the crowd.

"Good idea," Art called back as he carried Bobby into the sitting room of the suite. Seconds later, he was back to scoop Sandra up. Inside the suite, he put Sandra down on the couch beside her sister. "I love you two, but the first thing I have to do is get this rice out of my collar."

Art tossed the tux jacket on the other end of the couch. The cummerbund and tie followed in short order. He managed to get the shirt buttons undone, then jerked the shirt out of his pants to the accompaniment of rice sprinkling the carpet.

"They were good to Bobby and me," Sandra said. "They threw some rice at us, but most of it was directed at you."

"This wasn't thrown. Somebody stuffed a handful down my collar when all those women mobbed us, but I'm not sure who it was."

"It was Arlene and Hope," Sandra offered. "Arlene jerked the collar back while Hope dumped a handful in."

"Payback for my having her draw her rapist, probably."

The sisters looked at each other before Bobby spoke. "I doubt if it's payback. Probably she just likes you."

"Well, I doubt that." Art pulled his tee shirt out of his pants to let the last of the grains fall out.

The women stood. Sandra ran her hand under the tee shirt from the bottom to brush a few grains from his back. "Feel better now?"

"Oh, heck yeah."

Sandra was doing more than just brushing a clinging grain or two from her new husband's back. Her hand slid slowly up and down his spine, then with both hands under his tee shirt, she pushed them around to his chest seeking out his nipples as Bobby stepped in to kiss him passionately.

Art grimaced as Sandra gently pulled on his nipples. "Oops. Did that hurt or something?" she asked, stopping her ministrations for a moment.

"'Or something, '" he chuckled. "My little friend is trapped in my jockstrap and your hands and Bobby's kisses are making him want out."

Bobby grabbed the front of his tee shirt while Sandra did the same to the back. In a flash, they had the shirt over his head. Art made a grab for Bobby, reaching around her back to fumble for the tiny zipper to her dress, but without having any luck. "No fair. You two are fully clothed while I'm..."

Bobby had undone his belt and loosened his pants. Sandra helped jerk them and his shorts down to his feet, knelt and tried to lift his foot. "Get your shoes off, Baby."

Seconds later, he was nude with his cock standing almost straight up. "Let's go," the two nurses said in unison as they took his hands.

The women tried to wrestle him onto the bed, but he stood firm, withstanding their efforts. "My turn, Wives."

"No," they chorused.

"We want to be taken by our man while we're still wearing our wedding dresses," Bobby continued.

"But ... the dresses might very well be ruined," Art tried.

The sisters had apparently thought this out, though. They unconsciously joined hands as they smiled at their husband. "We'll only marry once, so the dresses will never be worn again, unless someday we have daughters who might wear them," Sandra said for both of them. "Our hymens are gone, so there won't be any blood. If we get something on our dresses, so what? It will either come out at the cleaners, or it won't. If it doesn't, we can look at our wedding dresses forty years from now and remember what a good time we had on our wedding night."

"But..." Art's objection trailed off as Bobby dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth.

"Oh, shit," he moaned as the intense feeling washed over him. He put his hands on her shoulders to steady himself, but the blowjob suddenly stopped.

"I'll finish that later. We don't want to waste your come. We want it in our ... pussies for now."

As Bobby rose from her knees, Sandra lay on the bed, pulling her skirt above her hips in the back to give at least a token effort to keeping the dress from being soiled. Bobby lay down with her sister, then when Sandra motioned to remind her, pulled her skirt above her hips the way Sandra had.

They both patted the bed between them. "Come make love to us," Bobby whispered as Sandra smiled an invitation to their husband.

Art moved between them, kissing first one, then the other. As his hand slid down the plunging neckline of Sandra's dress, he discovered why he had only been able to see enough breast to tantalize. "Tape," he chuckled as he gently pulled the dress free to expose her right breast.

Bobby ran her hand over Art's back as he leaned to suckle her sister's nipple. "Wouldn't do for our boobs to have fallen out during the wedding."

"Oh, my," Sandra gasped out, "nursing my nipples is even better now that I know I'm going to have your cock in me." She put a hand on either side of his head to gently pull his face to hers, then reached down to pull the front of the dress above her nude groin. "Push it up me, Lover. We can play later when Bobby and I are too sore for anything else. Right now I need you to push your cock up me. Make me your woman."

"You didn't have any panties on during our wedding?"

"Nope. Neither of us," Sandra giggled. "Now get busy, Husband."

"Do her, Lover," Bobby encouraged as she reached a hand down to move the dress from Sandra's other breast so both would be exposed. "Isn't she perfect?"

Art chuckled. "Yeah, she is. The two of you have almost identical bodies, and you know it, so I can't get into trouble by saying Sandra's breasts are perfect, because as you well know, yours are too. I still can hardly believe both of you agreed to marry me."

Almost before he realized what Bobby was doing, she reached between his legs, grasped his cock and guided it to Sandra's entrance. "Push, Husband. Make love to my sister."

Art locked his mouth to Sandra's as he gentled his cock forward. Her entrance was tight, but after a second the head of his cock popped in producing a quickly muffled yelp from Sandra.

"Hurt?" he worried as he took his mouth from hers.

"Nun uh," she whispered. "It ... Just push some more, but go slow. You're way bigger than the guy who took our virginities, and that was back in high school. Nothing has been in there since."

He felt her tremble, but he wasn't sure exactly why. He pushed another couple of inches in, spreading her pussy. "Oh, my," she gasped, her body trembling.

"You okay?"

"Uh huh. Push, " she gasped out.

He chanced to glance over at Bobby, who was now lying on her side as near to her sister as she could get without interfering. Realizing that Bobby had her hand under her skirt, he reached over to gently kiss her for a second. She kissed him back, then pulled away. "Push it up her," she growled. "I want to come when she does and I can't hold it off much longer."

Art drew back a little, then shoved deeper. Damn, she's tight. Jeff told me about his little joke with his dick in a sling. If Bobby is this tight, too, I'm going to have a sore dick in the morning.

Sandra grasped his hips, then pulling her legs back to give herself leverage, rammed upward, skewering herself on his cock. He hit bottom at the same time he ran out of dick. Sandra let out a high-pitched wail and thrashed under him, trying to hump her pussy up to him as she orgasmed. That apparently set Bobby off, because she wiggled around with a hand buried under her skirt, finally curling up in a fetal position, a shiver occasionally passing through her body.

He reached down and pulled Sandra's skirt higher so he could better see his connection with her. When he looked back, Sandra was staring at him, "I think I'm going to like this," she said with twinkling eyes and a trembling voice. "Now fuck me. Make love to me. I want some more of those orgasms."

Art pulled his cock back a little, and thinking about a suggestion he had gotten from various websites on how to please your woman, tried to angle the head of his dick so that it would rub harder along the top side of Sandra's vagina, trying for her G-spot. He did that for several thrusts, varying how much he pulled back, but continuing to be gentle. After slowly thrusting for about a minute, he shoved in all the way and tried to make a circle with his hips, rubbing the head of his cock against what he thought was her cervix.

Sandra looked at him, her eyes open wide again. She began to say something but rocketed into another orgasm. He held tight into her until she settled down somewhat, then began a steady thrusting while occasionally holding hard into her for a few seconds. Although her pussy was tighter than any woman he had ever had – which didn't cover a large territory – he was nowhere near coming. His focus had been on pleasing his new wife. After a while, her face and chest, including her breasts, were flushed and her orgasms were coming almost back to back.

Sandra was thrusting her hips up at him, her pussy spasming around his cock as she threw her head from side to side, her hair like a halo around her face. Bobby, with an astonished look, was now sitting up. Both Bobby and Art were beginning to worry about Sandra. Sweat was pouring off her when he remembered Jeff trying to teach him how to trip his mates' switch, as Jeff called it. Art desperately tried to remember just what the Prime had said. He was almost there himself, when he felt the connection. Just as Sandra started her next orgasm, he tripped her switch.

He lied to me. Well, at least he didn't tell the whole story,  Art desperately thought. I'll bet he's laughing his ass off. He didn't say anything about feedback. It felt like his orgasm started somewhere behind his eyes. His body tingled all over. He could feel the semen start from deep inside himself, seeming to travel forever before it pumped through his cock hard enough to sting. Sandra arched her body upward in an arc above the bed as she felt the warmth of his seed spurt into her, her body shivering. She gasped, mumbled something, shivered violently and collapsed. It felt like his cock would never stop pumping semen. Finally, he raised himself on his forearms, and at a glance at Bobby, she scooted out of the way. He rolled over onto his back between the women, with his vision tunneled and a ringing in his ears. And Jeff does this fourteen times a night,  his struggling mind thought.

He was vaguely aware of Bobby bringing a washcloth and towel to clean her sister up, then him. He felt soft, warm lips gently sucking on the head of his cock. Amazing him even more than Bobby, her sucking produced a full erection in seconds. He was ready to go again. He looked over at the woman beside him. Her face and chest were still flushed, her nipples an intense pink. Bobby kissed his cock, then moved up to lie beside her sister and gently suckle Sandra's nipples.

Sandra took a deep breath as she came back to the world. "Oh, that feels so nice," she quietly said, her voice still a little slurred. "I never dreamed it would be like this. I guess I made a pig out of myself, huh, Sister?" she continued, her voice becoming stronger. "I don't even know how to count my orgasms. They just all seemed to run together at the last." She turned her flushed face to her new husband. There was a faint chuckle. "I thought I pretty much knew what was going to happen tonight, but I didn't have a clue. Where did you learn to do that?"

Art was shaking his head. "At the end there, we almost seemed to..."

"Become one..." Sandra continued for him. "What did you do to me?"

"Jeff taught me how to, uh, 'trip your switch, ' as he calls it. He says it's something that only Alphas can do. He put his hand on my head while he was describing how I should do it. Somehow, he taught me. It's something I can't explain. He says Alphas can learn to do it on their own, but he helped the process along by showing me how. I guess it goes back to Little One having enhanced us."

"My sister," Sandra said, "please, don't make her wait any longer."

"I'm okay. There's no hurry," Bobby began, but was cut off as Sandra scooted out of the way so Art could get to Bobby.

Shortly, he had pushed her dress above her groin to expose her pussy, and was sucking her nipples. Sandra guided his cock to her sister's entrance. As his cock popped past her tight opening, "Oh, my," she struggled out and reached for her sister's hand. Then to Art, "Push, Husband. Push. Make me your woman."

-------

Jeff sat near their bed with Arlene on his lap as his wives prepared for bed. "I saw you and Hope put that handful of rice down Art's collar..."

Arlene smiled at him, "Are you jealous, Daddy?" she said, trying to make her voice sound like that of a child as she blinked her eyes and teased him.

"What? No, of course not. Besides, I was talking about Hope. She seems to oscillate between being afraid of men in general, Art included – well to some extent, anyhow – and being comfortable with Art. I guess that goes for how she treats me as well."

Arlene sat up straighter to look her husband in the eye. "I wasn't talking about your being jealous of just me playing with Art; I meant Hope, too."

Jeff looked at her a second before pecking her on the lips. "Why would I be jealous of what she was doing with Art? She's..."

" ... sexy as heck," Arlene offered with a little giggle.

"That is not what I was going to say, and you know it. I'm not jealous of her and Art. I think Art would make a fine husband for her when she's old enough."

Diana came over to sit on the side of the bed near them. "I suspect her mood swings have something to do with how recent her last nightmare was."

"And that's where Jennie is now, with Hope?" He was proud of himself for keeping the whine out of his voice.

Diana chuckled as she leaned back on one of the big pillows and smiled at her husband. "Jennie will be with you in the morning after breakfast."

"I wasn't..."

"You were," Diana and Arlene chorused, both giggling at the look on their husband's face.

"There are fourteen of us, Daddy. Surely you can get by with one of us gone for a night."

"Joyce has that damn deputy's job, so she's only with us two nights a week, and that's if she doesn't have to work extra. Caitlin is gone five days a week to that nursing supervisor's job. I want my wives here with me all the time. Oh, I know this is temporary with someone spending the night with Hope, and I fully concur, but on top of the other, it's just ... irritating. I worry about Caitlin being gone all day, and it's far worse with Joyce. She almost got killed by that nut..."

Arlene stopped his worried comments by gluing her mouth to his, her braless breasts pushed against his chest. When they broke the kiss, Arlene got off his lap and he stood, intending to drop his pants.

Diana smiled at her husband. "Might want to wait a few minutes on that. Jennie will be here shortly to tell us goodnight and she's bringing Hope with her."

His wives had come into the bedroom one after the other, all taking seats or sitting on the bed. He had wondered why they had all apparently decided to wear modest sleepwear, but he had been distracted by the conversation with Arlene and Diana.

There was a sharp rap on the bedroom door, then it opened as Jennie came in holding hands with Hope. The girl, blushing a little, was hesitant to look up, but when she did, she seemed to relax. Jeff smiled at her, realizing that she was probably worried that he wouldn't be fully dressed this late and in his bedroom.

"You made a beautiful bridesmaid," Diana offered.

Hope's smile was tentative. "Thank you. I had a really good time."

"I'll bet Art will remember for a long time that handful of rice the two of you crammed down his shirt," Jeff said to try and put Hope at ease.

Hope smiled back. "I guess we shouldn't have done that, but it was fun."

"I thought it was hilarious," Jeff said, stretching the point a little. "Besides, I suspect it was Arlene's idea. She tends to love punishing a groom with rice."

Jennie came over to sit in her husband's lap and kissed him tenderly. "We have an appointment in the morning," she whispered into his ear. Jumping up, she grabbed Hope's hand and hurried out of the room, Hope calling goodnight over her shoulder as the door closed behind them.

"What was that all about?" Jeff asked Diana.

"Getting her more used to us. Haven't you noticed she always turns away, or pretends to be busy when any of us kiss you? You can bet she was very uptight about coming into our bedroom for fear that she would see something sexual."

"But we wouldn't..."

"Not what she thinks, but what she feels," Diana said as she stood to quickly undress. "Now come suck on these," she said as she held her breasts, "then fuck me unconscious."

"Yes, Ma'am," the Prime said as his cock came fully up.

-------

As Jeremy and his women pulled out of his parents' driveway, he wryly commented, "Well that didn't go the way I expected."

Connie and Denise giggled, but Connie spoke for both of them. "Yep, we went in there to ask your folks for your hand in marriage, and you wound up with another future wife."

"I can't believe you asked them for my 'hand' in marriage. But it bowled over both my parents. Two beautiful women asking to marry me. Asking to marry me like something from the eighteen hundreds – not that I've ever heard about women asking for a man's hand in marriage, no matter what the time period."

Denise leaned forward a little to look past Connie who was sitting in the middle. "So, what? We're older than you. We either got your mom and dad on board, or there would be hard feelings for no telling how long. We want your parents on our side, and we think they are now, particularly after the way you handled Paulette."

Jeremy turned onto the main highway and brought the pickup up to speed, heading back toward Denise's home. "That was brilliant about waiting for Paulette before the two of you would marry me. What if she had called your bluff, though?"

Denise and Connie looked at each other in the light created by an approaching vehicle, Connie turning to speak for them, "Uh, we weren't bluffing. She would have known that and been insulted by it. You're just a wee bit, uh, shall we say, on the stubborn side when it comes to having sex before marriage. You won't take us before we are married, and we knew you wouldn't take Paulette, either. But we had to do something to get your attention, and at the same time, give her some hope. It all worked out. We'll be married Friday night, and she'll start spending the night with us once a week."

"But I won't..."

"Of course not," Denise interrupted him, "but there's sex, and then there's sex."

"If you're talking about what we've been doing, there is no way I'm going to do that with Paulette. She's too young to be giving blowjobs and having her titties sucked."

"Well, we're not totally convinced of that, but for now, we think she'll be happy with just some kissing and you holding her. She got us aside and told us she was going to ask her mother for a vibrator. She knows Adriana has one..."

"I don't want to know about my mother having a vibrator," Jeremy whined.

Connie chimed in with, "Oh, that's right, your mother is still a virgin," she teased. Then, with her voice changing, "Actually, Paulette says your mom and dad fuck 'like minks.'"

"Way too much information. I do not want to hear this," Jeremy said, thankful they couldn't see his blush.

Denise held back a laugh that wanted to escape. "She says your mom is a real screamer. Paulette came home from school early and caught your mom and dad twice. She said she could hear Adriana out in the yard before she even walked up on the porch, and when she entered the house, she could hear the bed slamming against the wall."

"You are evil," Jeremy moaned. "I'll never be able to look my mother in the face again."

"Actually," Connie said, "we asked your mom about some tips on how to please our man. Neither of us have been very successful up until now, and we don't want to mess this up. Stop and think about it. Your mom and dad have been married..."

"Twenty one years, I think."

"And they can hardly keep their hands off each other. I think Adriana will be a good teacher for us. We're not leaving anything to chance about this marriage. This is for life."

"For life," Jeremy repeated.



-------

Chapter 171


HONEYMOON SUITE, 7:45 A.M.

After one more session with each wife, this time in the shower, Art went back to the bedroom while Sandra and Bobby dried their hair. He sat rubbing a towel briskly through his own mostly-dried hair while he thought. Damn, I'm tired. We can't have slept more than an hour or two last night, and even that time was spread out over several short naps. How does Jeff do it? He has fourteen wives. And I've overheard enough of his wives' comments to suspect he does them all every night – well, other than Joyce. I think they make love after breakfast, since she sleeps days. To top all that off, he gets up at four and runs twenty miles or more just about every day.

Art sat for a minute, his mind focused on needing to exercise. I've worked out a few times in the Matthews' gym, and I would love to run with Jeff and Kayla, but she says he holds back to her pace until she can't run any farther, then he goes back to his pace for the rest of the run while she rides with Security. Maybe I should ask him about adapting my shoes so they work on ice and snow. I haven't run since college, but I would rather run outside than on a treadmill.

Running on that mountain road will be a bitch, particularly the return uphill part of it, but if I don't do something to build my stamina, my wives will kill me. They warned me they were going to make up for all the sex they had missed out on, but damn, I didn't think they would try to catch up all in one night. He slid his cock out of the front of his shorts. The head is a dull red and swollen. Those last two times in the shower almost did me in.

He eased his bruised cock back into his shorts as he listened to his wives talking over the sound of their hair dryers. They're proud they'll be walking funny, and unfortunately, I will be too – walking funny, that is. Jeff and Dave are going to rag me unmercifully if I walk the least bit tentatively, but crap, my dick is sore. It's a weekday and almost eight o'clock. Maybe Dave will be gone somewhere. I guess everyone else ate at six. Oh, fuck. General Whitworth is going to be here the entire week. He's bound to be waiting on me. If one of my wives sits in my lap the wrong way, it's going to hurt like hell. I need to mention that to them. Jeff's teasing probably won't be as bad as Whitworth's, but between them, they won't have any mercy.

He slipped on a shirt and jeans, and was pulling on his shoes when Sandra and Bobby came back into the bedroom wearing bras and panties. They kissed him and were soon dressed in shorts and pullover tops that clung to their bodies. Slipping on shoes, they were ready to go.

Oh, shit. They look sexy. I don't want to get an erection. I don't want to get an erection,  he said to himself over and over as he felt his dick swell against his clothing. Multiplication tables. That will do it. Twelve times twelve is one hundred and forty four. Twelve times thirteen. What the hell is that? I used to know it... 

Sandra and Bobby looked a question at him. "Uh, ready to go, Baby?" Sandra asked for the two of them.

"You bet, Ladies."

"We're famished," Bobby commented.

As they stepped into the hallway, Sandra winced. "Maybe we should have forgone that last time."

Bobby smiled over at her, "Yeah, but it was fun."

"Well, you both saw what I look like. Just be careful if you decide to sit on my lap, please."

"Oh, poor Baby," Bobby laughed, "maybe we should kiss it and make it better."

"Don't even tease me about that. I'll get another erection, and when it rubs against my pants..."

"Oh, okay, Spoilsport. We'll behave." Sandra grabbed his hand, then her sister's. "Let's go face the music. You know they will kid us, but we'll be able to kid someone else tomorrow."

"Uh, maybe not. Aren't the General and his women scheduled for tonight? He told me they had been living together for years. They just want to have the Prime and his Queen marry them. Surely that wouldn't be the same as our having never been with each other before."

"Guess we'll have to wait and see," Sandra allowed.

Their walk down the hallways was at a moderate pace with arms around each other, all hoping that no one would notice they were taking small steps.

Art pushed the kitchen door open and held it for his new wives. Jeff, Dave, Bill, Frank Wainwright and the General were sitting at the kitchen table with coffee in front of them. Diana, Laura, Arlene and Ann were at work in the other end of the kitchen.

"Sit, you three. We'll have your breakfast in a moment."

"We'll help..." Sandra started.

"Sit," Diana reiterated. "You can help cook in the morning if you want."

Art was certain they were going to be kidded mercilessly, but other than offering warm greetings and congratulations to the three newlyweds, the men simply continued their conversation for the couple of minutes before Diana and the others began to put the food on the table.

Diana stood smiling at them. "We've already asked the blessing when we ate earlier, so eat. You're bound to be hungry."

They had raided the small refrigerator in the suite during the wee hours of the morning, but the smell of the hot food suddenly keyed Art's appetite. I'm ravenous. Not that I don't seem to be that way most of the time, anyway,  he thought. His wives put some scrambled eggs on their plates, then handed him the platter. He put a generous helping on his plate, only to hear a quiet sniff from Diana, who reached past him. Taking his butter knife, she held the platter near his plate and pushed double the amount of eggs onto it.

Arlene placed a platter of steaks on the table just as Laura came with the biscuits, Ann following with a platter of home fries.

"I'm going to be as big as a house," Sandra said.

"You and me, both," her sister agreed.

"Won't happen," Diana laughed. "Eat. When you're finished, we'll have fresh-baked sweet rolls on the deck."

"Deck?" Sandra wondered aloud.

"Yep. It's enclosed and has a big Jacuzzi," Arlene said. "It's great to soak in the water and look out at the snow." Then leaning between the two new brides, she whispered, "Mom has some cream that will really make a difference. Between the cream and the Jacuzzi, things will be a lot more comfortable, shortly."

Sandra's and Bobby's faces flushed red for an instant, but they quickly whispered their thanks.

Art was still eating when his women finished, kissed him on the cheek and were whisked away by Jeff's wives.

At Art's inquisitive expression, Jeff said, "Soak in the hot tub and some girl talk. In a little while, your private night will be general knowledge among the women, although they'll never admit it."

There was a quiet, "Oh, shit," from Art.

Jeff grinned at the young agent. "If you dared to discuss with us what you did last night, your pussy would probably be cut off for no telling how long, and ours too. But the same rules don't apply to women. Welcome to married life."

"But they do have all the pussy," the General added.

"Yep," Jeff, Frank, Dave and Bill all chorused, then all laughed when they realized what they had done.

"You need a soak, too?" Jeff asked, almost keeping his face straight, then went on before Art could answer. "You could use the hot tub in your suite. Diana left a tube of her 'pussy cream' with me. It works on a man, too, and I've used it more than once. If things are too bad, Little One can take care of you or your women."

"You have fourteen wives. I don't see how you do it," Art quietly said.

Jeff refreshed everyone's coffee before he returned to his seat. "Art, we all started out with just one woman, then things gradually progressed. You started out with two – two women who had already been enhanced. Little One has a much more amplified power source now, and she does things differently. When she first started with Diana, Arlene and me, everything progressed very slowly, leaving much of the energy expenditure to our bodies. Over time, she was able to gradually increase her abilities as well as gaining the power source I just mentioned.

"Even though I have more women, I had time to adapt. I have no real idea what actually happened last night, and that's your private business, but I do know that your women were enhanced and obviously were looking forward to their wedding night. They teased you openly about that. You will always be able to take care of them, but being a little sore after a wedding night is certainly nothing to be ashamed of. We have all been there. Seriously, the cream really helps, and we're not trying to mess with you."

Jeff slid an unopened box containing the tube of the cream down the table. Art, his embarrassment almost gone, looked over at the other men. Suddenly, it all struck him as funny. His grin became a chuckle, then turned into a full belly laugh, the other men joining in. "They damn near killed me," he got out.

"Been there; done that," Dave said very earnestly, which seem to set them off again.

Jeff slapped Art on the back as they all stood. "Meet you in the living room."

Art stopped by a restroom and used the cream. Returning the tube to its box, he walked on into the living room. I'm married, he thought. I'm married to two beautiful women who love me. I'm married. It's hard to believe, but I'm married.

He pulled up a chair to sit near the other men, putting the tube of cream beside him to keep it out of sight. Somehow, it embarrassed him. He knew the kidding would start now, but was no longer uptight about it. To his amazement, they didn't tease him, just ate their sweet rolls and continued their conversation about Midville, paying him barely any attention at all.

After a bit, the conversation lagged for a moment until Wainwright turned to Dave. "How's business?"

"Oh," Dave said, sitting his coffee cup on a nearby table as he stood to cut himself another piece of the sweet roll, "about par for the beginning of winter." Glancing at Frank, he motioned to the roll, but Frank shook his head.

Seated again, Dave continued, "We have several inside jobs going, and on good days we get some other work done outside. We finally had some warm weather and got the foundations poured for Martha's restaurant. In a few days, we'll be in the dry there and can work inside. We also have a small strip mall we're renovating, as well as several other projects, plus several houses that Evie and I bought. We cut back on hours when we have to, but we try to keep everyone working. We also try to encourage vacations in the winter, but people with kids can't do that very well."

"I need someone to build a town."

Dave had just reached for his coffee cup, but froze for a second before completing the movement.

Wainwright continued with, "Well not exactly a town, but new store fronts, all the same western decor on the front of all the existing buildings, and a covered old-style wooden sidewalk throughout the town. Eventually, there will be buildings to demolish and new ones to be constructed. I want an elegant, period hotel built, and also a high-end bed and breakfast, all maintaining an old west decor. Many other things to build as well."

"Midville isn't exactly next door," Dave began. "Someone closer..."

" ... would probably require additional personnel to oversee them to keep me from being cheated. Why not have my brother's company do the job to start with? That way, I would know that everything would be completed to the highest standards and I wouldn't be ripped off."

"I would have to hire..."

" ... additional personnel. Surely some of the locals would fit in. If you have to train them, well that's one of the things we promised the mayor and town council we would do."

"Evie and I are partners. You saw that from the beginning when we came to you in Saint Louis. Hang on a minute and let me get her in here."

Dave picked up the phone and dialed. Turning his back to the men, he walked a short distance away as he spoke with his little Queen for a few moments. When Dave ended the call and returned to his seat, Art stood. "This looks like a business meeting, and I'm..."

"Sit," Dave and Frank said at the same time.

Frank Wainwright looked the young Alpha in the eye. "As Jeff says, Alpha business is Alpha business. That means that your place is right here. I don't have secrets from my brothers."

Evie walked in the door before Art could respond. "What have you gotten us into now, Husband?" she said as she plopped down in Dave's lap.

"I want him to build me a town," Wainwright offered with a grin.

"Would tomorrow do, or should we schedule a day next week to build it?" she instantly responded, deadpan.

Wainwright chuckled and answered, "We're probably looking at a year or two, maybe more, hell, maybe a lot more – depends on what we wind up with. If our plans work, the town might be expanding for years."

"Midville?"

"That's it."

Evie sat up a little and turned to face her husband. "You could send Korey, and promote Amos to Korey's job for the interval, maybe have Jenkins be his assistant. Korey would need an assistant, too. Can't think of anyone right off the top of my head, though."

"What about Bell? He's young, but he has two years of college, and he gets along well with the crews."

"Sounds good," the petite woman said, "We'll need housing, and if we're talking about a year or more, some of our people will want to bring their families. For the ones who do, we'll need something nicer than just the construction trailers."

"You decide. You name it and I'll see it gets done," Wainwright said. "What about the same type of contract we had for the Retreat. I pay all expenses, and we'll agree on a percentage over that for your profit?"

Evie and Dave looked at each other for a second. "Same percentage we had here," Dave said.

"Done," Wainwright returned. "Make it happen. I'll call Tingle and tell him. Your account will be set up within the hour for you to draw from, give Tingle the names of the people you want on the account. I'll have him call you and fill you in on all the ideas and plans. If you wish, use your favorite architect for the building fronts and covered sidewalk, but get with Mayor Cambridge and the town council for input and final approval. Let the architect know about the period hotel and have him get back to us with some suggestions. I'm having an up-to-date teleconference center like I have here in my office, installed in the council chambers there in Midville. I'll have one put in your office here, also.

"I'll have a helicopter and pilot at your disposal anytime you should want to meet with your on-scene supervisor. We're going to push the expansion of the airport in Midville so we can use one of my planes to cut down on air travel time, but even then you'll need a ride from here to the airport. Come to think of it, you might want your architect to go on out to Midville ASAP to get a better idea of what he and his people are faced with. Tingle is preparing detailed photos and videos of everything for your perusal, and he has his team working to flesh out the ideas we discussed. I would like for you two to have an integral part in the planning of the whole thing. You and Evie had some great ideas when we were building the Retreat. I know you two will have ideas for this project as well."

Evie looked at Jeff, who nodded his approval. Bill hadn't said anything, but just sat back smiling.

Wainwright continued. "Cambridge and his wife are scheduled to start on their vacation next week, so we need to get his input about the makeover while he's still personally available. He'll have the capability for teleconferencing while he is on his vacation, but I want to keep his work time to a minimum. As you know, the vacation is supposed to be a reward for saving Jill, so he and his wife need to feel free to enjoy themselves."

Art sat back, his mind in a turmoil as he listened to the other Alphas. Have I just heard a multi-million dollar deal go down in a couple of minutes? No arguments, no hassle. They haven't even said anything about signing a contract.

Jeff stood and put his hand on Art's shoulder. "Let's go for a walk," he quietly said.

At the back door, they stopped to don coats. "Let's walk over to the outside garage. I want to check on something."

Halfway to the garage, Art stopped. He slowly turned completely around, just looking at everything. "Do you realize how beautiful this place really is?"

Jeff chuckled as they walked on. "Actually, I do. I thank God for his blessings every day. I'm the luckiest man on Earth."

Jeff held a door open for the young agent as they entered the garage. Art thanked him and responded, "After last night, I feel the same way, but we'll never have anything like this. This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. I can't imagine Frank selling it."

Jeff let out a chuckle. "Yes you will. You already have. You're part of the clan now – you and your wives. This is your home, too."

While Art was digesting that, Jeff motioned him into the small shop office. After turning up the thermostat a bit, Jeff sat behind the work desk and motioned Art to one of the chairs nearby. The Prime continued, "Frank had the place built for a retreat and conference center. The visits were a reward for some of his best employees. He and Margaret loved the place, but it soon became a logistic nightmare to move a number of people from Denver or Boulder out here in the winter, plus the hassle of getting them from Saint Louis or other cities. It was obvious that he really wanted my invention.

"Because of something that happened at the meeting, he had begun to wonder if I was going to back out of the proposed deal and sell my invention elsewhere. He later told me he had been thinking about selling the Retreat, and because of the worry of my backing out of the sale, he threw in the Retreat to sweeten the deal.

"Back then, I didn't even know what an Alpha was, and we owe the beginning of that knowledge to Laura. But anyway, the friendship between Frank, Margaret and my family progressed. Eventually, we all learned that we were Alphas, but Dave and Evie's association with Frank and Margaret dates back to the beginning of the contract for Henson Construction to build the Retreat. Frank paid for everything and Dave and Evie's profit was a percentage above all expenses. That way, Frank and Margaret could have the Retreat built from the materials that they wanted, and Dave and Evie wouldn't chance losing their ass on the deal. It worked for them because they're all three honest, and because they are Alphas."

"So Alphas are all honest?"

Jeff was shaking his head. "The ones I've met are, but I've seen guys on TV that I've suspected are also Alphas, and they obviously aren't honest – not with the way they have swindled the public. And before you say anything, I'm new to this, and have little more information to go on than you do. Little One recognized me as an Alpha, and according to her, a Prime. She was designed to serve a Prime and the Ship. A lot of what we 'know' comes from my communication with Little One, and as I've told you before, it isn't the best communication by a long shot. It's almost as if she and the Ship are ... waiting on something."

Jeff sat, leaned his seat back and propped his feet on the small desk, motioning for Art to sit. Art looked uncomfortable, but took a breath and went on, "Jeff, I want to thank you for all you have done for us. We truly appreciate it. I..."

Jeff was holding his hand up a little, signaling Art to wait. "But you're expecting the FBI to set up some kind of identity change sooner or later and leave you and your wives hanging out there by yourselves, hoping this group that's been trying to kill you never finds you. Right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that about sums it up, I guess," the young agent said with a sigh.

"Want a coke?" the Prime asked as he turned his chair and reached to open the refrigerator.

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

Jeff tossed Art a drink and opened his own. "Several options, the way I see it. First option is that you can continue to live with us." As Art started to say something, Jeff again motioned for him to wait. "Second is that you can take the identity that the General has made for the three of you and start over somewhere. Third is that we can eliminate the threat and you can continue to be an agent wherever the agency sends you. Fourth, as a possible combination of two of those options, and my personal favorite, is that we can eliminate the threat and the three of you can continue to live with us."

"Jeff, I love it here. Heck we all do, but I don't like sponging off you and your family."

Frustrated, Jeff almost slapped his hand down hard on the desk, but resisted the impulse at the last instant. Taking a breath, he looked his Alpha in the eye. "You're part of the clan, Art. Frank Wainwright is selling my radar at an obscene price, and I get a part of every sale. I have more money now than when I moved in here and it's mounting every day. The only expenses I have are for the phone, a little gas for the vehicles and the food we eat. Thanks to Frank's wind generators, the power company pays me every month. You saved Hope's life. Even if she hadn't died in that motel room, she would have been a sex slave for the remainder of her probably very short life. Hope is Jennie's sister. The sister of one of my wives. Think about that. If Hope had died or disappeared, Jennie would have been devastated. I owe you. You don't owe us anything."

There was quiet for a moment as the two men sat and thought. Then, "I wasn't going to mention this until later, but maybe now is as good a time as any. The FBI has made some arrests – a good many because of some information my team, uh, collected for the General. Let's just say that the FBI needs a little help with some of these people, and the General has ... ways. Most of this happened in other areas, and with your working undercover, I doubt if you have heard much. Only a few people know the whole story, and something has to be done to destroy this organization, but because of money and politics, plus this cell system the slavers use, normal ways are often stymied.

"The bastard who raped and abused Hope is, at best, going to be sent back to his home country. The General's people are checking what Hope has said, and also confirming your information."

"He and the others who have diplomatic immunity will go scot free," Art growled.

Jeff drained the last of his soda and threw the bottle into the trash. "My team is still here, and you saw them at your wedding. Anyway, this mountain with its snow and terrain provides a different aspect of training. If you like, I can have the training Sergeant provide you with training for our camouflage suits and our equipment. Some of these slavers are going down, one way or the other. Want to be part of it?"

Art sat forward in his seat. "Oh, hell yes!"

"Thought that might be your answer. The training will start when you're ready."

"I'm ready now," Art responded without thinking it through, but then logic caught up with him. "Well, maybe a little later," he sheepishly answered.

"Yep, you're a married man now, and this is your honeymoon. You might want to be handy when your wives get out of that Jacuzzi, otherwise ... Also, a good soak would probably help that sore dick of yours."

As Art stood, "I thought you mentioned having something to do out here?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just had Alesha swap her Escalade for another one this morning. I wanted to check the mileage in case it's time to change the oil. One of her tires seemed to be a little low, too."

"I'll help. No telling how long they'll be in that Jacuzzi."

Jeff slapped Art on the back and gently pushed him toward the door. "Go soak your dick and wait for your wives. There is plenty for the three of you to do around here, and those things will be a hell of a lot more interesting than changing the oil in a vehicle. Take your wives and go have some fun."

-------

Jeff had just opened the door of Alesha's Escalade to check the mileage when the phone rang.

"Hi, Baby," Diana said when he answered. "I just talked to the auditor. He says he found only a couple of minor errors in the books, and he also says he would make a few changes as far as tax concessions are concerned, which would save some money, but otherwise the figures Mr. Jackson and his wife presented are an accurate reflection of a profitable company."

"That's good. But we both knew it would be when Dave said it would be a good deal, not to mention Fred's opinion that the Jacksons were telling the truth."

"One thing," Diana commented, "Mrs. Jackson has asked that we move the signing up to 1:00 P.M. She said it would be easier on her husband at that time of day."

"Fine with me, if we can get the others to agree."

"The accountant said he didn't care, and since he was going to have to talk to our attorney anyway, he would ask for us. He said he would call back if the attorney couldn't make it. Mrs. Jackson said she would notify her people."

"One o'clock it is then."

"Jeff, she's obviously worried about her husband. She mentioned that he took a nap midmorning and another midafternoon. I think that's the reason she wanted to get the paperwork done a little earlier. I'll make sure Evie and Dave know. You want them at the signing, don't you?"

"Sure, they're an integral part of this."



-------

Chapter 172

Jeff, Diana, Dave and Evie were sitting in Dave and Evie's living room when Security called Jeff on his radio.

"Colonel, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson are here at the check point, but we have a slight problem, " Jeff heard through bone conduction from the tiny speaker behind his ear. "Mrs. Jackson is afraid to drive up the driveway, and she says her husband's doctors have forbidden him to drive. I have offered to have one of our units bring them up, but she refuses. She asked to speak to Mrs. Henson."

"Stand by one, Hollins."

Jeff repeated what he had just been told.

"They're thirty minutes early," Evie said as she came quickly to her feet. "Tell Security I'm on my way to get them."

Jeff keyed his radio and subvocalized into his throat mike, telling Hollins that Mrs. Henson was on the way.

As Evie started out the door, she turned back for a second. "Mr. Jackson seemed weak when we were there yesterday, and he was walking really slowly. The conference room is a long way from either door ... The living room here in our apartment is a lot closer, and ... it would present a much more relaxed atmosphere. We can't use the big living room because it's set up for the wedding tonight, not to mention it's just as far from either door as any of the conference rooms. I think we should have the meeting right here in our living room."

Diana instantly responded, "I think it's a great idea."

After a second's hesitation, Evie addressed her husband, "Baby, are you and Jeff okay with this?"

"Okay by me," Jeff responded.

"Me too," Dave said, but added, "We will need some more furniture, though."

Jeff glanced back at Evie. "Bring them through the inside garage. That will be a lot closer for them, and they won't have to be out in the cold once they get up here. Since you mentioned he's having problems walking, maybe we need to have a wheelchair waiting when you get here."

Evie's face broke into a smile. "Excellent idea."

As soon as Evie was out the door, Jeff began pacing. "Crap. We should have gone to their place. I thought of it, but anywhere I go it looks like a damn parade with all of Security's vehicles. Here I am forcing a guy who has just had a heart operation to come to me instead of the other way around. I wasn't thinking."

Dave was shaking his head. "Still ... in the long run, this will be a lot less hassle for the Jacksons. You know that Security would never allow you to go into the Jacksons' house without checking it out first. Hell, they would probably check out the whole neighborhood."

"He's right, Baby," Diana said, entering the conversation. "Besides, we can make it up to the Jacksons, somehow." She thought for a second before her face broke into a smile, "Let's get Arlene to push the wheelchair. She'll have Mrs. Jackson wrapped around her little finger in a heartbeat, and as far as Mr. Jackson is concerned, what man could ever be upset with that beautiful young woman pushing his wheelchair and making over him?"

The Queen snatched up the phone and dialed the classroom. "Helen, we're at Evie's apartment getting ready for the meeting. I need to borrow Ann, Jennie and Melissa for a little while. Tell them I need a couple of pots of regular coffee, a pot of decaf, an assortment of soft drinks, some of those sweet rolls we had this morning and something a heart patient can munch on. I need the drinks and food brought to Evie's apartment in ten minutes ... Also, tell Arlene to meet me at the inside garage door so she can push Mr. Jackson's wheelchair to Evie and Dave's apartment."

"Done," Helen said, hanging up.

Diana absently put the phone back into its charging cradle. Turning back to the men, she motioned around her. "We need to rearrange some furniture. The coffee table needs to be a little closer to the couch, and those chairs need to be moved over here." She turned to look about the room, then addressed her husband and Dave, "We need several more nice chairs. You can get some from the hallway alcoves."

Jeff grinned at his Queen before hurrying to catch up to Dave, who was already going out the door.

-------

Evie drove slowly past the Jacksons' vehicle, Security having asked Mrs. Jackson to park it on the side of the drive near the barrier and out of the way of any traffic. Evie continued on the short distance to the bottom of the drive, turned around and came back, stopping near the other vehicle.

When the little Queen stepped over to the Jacksons' car, Mrs. Jackson began to apologize as she got out. "I'm so sorry to bother you, Mrs. Henson. Normally, I used to drive very little. Of course, after Arthur had his heart attack, all the driving has been left up to me. I know it sounds foolish, but even looking at that driveway scares me. Again, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. You did tell me you had a steep driveway and it was on the side of a mountain, but I never expected to be able to look practically straight above me to see the road switching back and forth up that ... uh, cliff."

Evie smiled and touched Mrs. Jackson's hand. "No problem. You get used to it after a while – well, mostly used to it. But we all have first-time stories about it."

Arthur Jackson had listened to the women, but now pushed his door open and swung his legs out. "Wait, " his wife quickly said, hurrying around the car. "We can't risk your taking a fall on a patch of ice."

"I feel like a fool," Jackson grumbled as his wife put an arm around him.

"You would feel even worse if you fell," his wife returned. "And you'll be better soon. Right now, we just need to be careful."

Between them, they managed to get him seated in the front of Evie's Escalade, with Mrs. Jackson sitting behind him, her hand on his shoulder.

Evie kept a smile plastered on her face, hoping it would mask the worry she felt when she saw how truly feeble Arthur Jackson was today. His face was far grayer than it had been at his home yesterday, and this little bit of exertion moving from one vehicle to the other had made his breathing very noticeable. I screwed up. We should have had the meeting at their home. I didn't realize he was this bad. He seems to have gotten a lot worse since yesterday.

Wilma Jackson patted her husband on the shoulder as Evie got in and put the Escalade into gear. The older woman caught Evie's eyes in the mirror. "I apologize again. I've never driven on mountain roads very much, and when I saw..."

"You don't have to apologize. My husband and I built the Retreat. When we started the project, this was a gravel driveway that had only recently been cut into the cliff face, and ... to make matters worse, there weren't any railings up yet. The railings you see there," she continued, pointing, "are twice as strong as they need to be, so the worst you could do would be to bang a fender on a curve. There is absolutely no way your vehicle could go over. Oh, yeah, if heights bother you, keep your eyes to the inside of the drive, particularly on the switchbacks."

"Heights don't bother me, but Wilma isn't very pleased with them," Arthur inserted with a weak chuckle.

Evie looked in the mirror at Mrs. Jackson. "While you're here, you should get Diana to tell you about her first experience with the driveway, and Helen's description of her first time is even worse. Of course, they laugh about it now, but they weren't laughing then."

They drove through the first switchback and Wilma made the mistake of looking down into the abyss. Look at the wall on the inside,  she told herself, trying to tear her mind from the memory. Aren't those snow-covered rocks pretty?

Arthur put his hand on his wife's as she gripped his shoulder tighter and tighter. "I might need that one of these days," he said, trying to chuckle, hoping to ease her fear. He had to repeat himself before she heard him.

Evie, trying to get Wilma's attention off the drive, asked, "How long have you two been married?" Evie, though, like Mr. Jackson, had to repeat her question before she got Wilma's attention. Arthur and Evie continued the conversation, trying to shift Wilma's focus to that, rather than the driveway, but then Evie got to the steepest part of the drive and the Escalade shifted back into low gear on the steeper slope. In the mirror, Evie could see that Mrs. Jackson had closed her eyes.

Shortly, "My goodness, look at that," Arthur said. "Open your eyes, Hon. Look at that beautiful building."

A couple of minutes later, Evie hit the remote to open the inside garage door.

Diana, Arlene and Jeff were standing on the landing at the top of the few steps in the garage. As soon as Jeff saw Arthur trying to get out of Evie's Escalade, the Prime bounded down the steps to stop near Jackson, offering a hand as the man struggled to his feet.

Evie, who had hurried around the SUV, introduced everyone.

"Mr. Jackson, I want to apologize for the inconvenience of your having to come up here. I just didn't think..."

"Nonsense," Jackson returned. "It was a beautiful drive, and I must say, this, uh..."

"We call it home," Jeff interrupted. "It used to be a conference center for Wainwright, Inc., but it's our home now."

"Well, your home is certainly beautiful."

"Thank you. Come on. Let me give you a hand up the stairs, then Arlene will provide transportation to Evie and Dave's apartment."

Jeff didn't give Mr. Jackson a chance to object, but put his arm around the older man. Diana was only a second behind her husband as she helped Jackson from his other side.

As soon as Jackson was in the wheelchair, Arlene was behind him, engaging the Jacksons in conversation, even as she winked at Mrs. Jackson.

"My daughter will have him laughing in no time," Diana whispered into Mrs. Jackson's ear.

"Daughter? She's your daughter? But you don't look..."

"Good genes," Diana laughed. "I guess I'm just lucky."

Dave, having finished his last-minute furniture arranging, met the others just inside the apartment. As he ushered the Jacksons in, "We were going to use one of the conference rooms, but thought this might work out better. Welcome to our home."

Everyone was seated in the living room with refreshments in front of them while they waited for the attorneys, their assistants, and the accountant. The conversation gradually moved to the sale of the Jacksons' company.

"How did you get started in the steel erection business?" Jeff asked.

Arthur and his wife glanced at each other. "That was a long time ago," Jackson said. "Believe it or not, we started the company out of our first home. Wilma's dad had faith in me and he had good credit. He signed with us on our first loan to get my little business started. A couple of years later, the loan was paid off, and I managed to get a line of credit from the same bank. We just kept expanding the company. Our biggest problem," he chuckled, "was trying to keep up with all the business we were getting. We just kept diversifying and hiring more people. I ... I ... had no idea it would all end like this," he finished, barely keeping his voice from breaking.

"But I thought you were going to retire, anyway," Jeff said with a slight frown.

"Retire, yes. But not be forced to sell out. Oh, we were going to pay Lee well to run the company, but I was going to keep my hand in now and again. Having to do it this way is like..."

"Almost like abandoning a child," his wife finished for him. "But the doctor has been adamant that Arthur could not continue with the stress. Please don't misunderstand us, however. We're flattered and very grateful for the sum of money you're offering, but you have to understand, we've done this almost our entire married life. Arthur has a talent for this type of business. It just seems ... odd to even think about not having the company any longer."

The conversation was interrupted by the AI announcing other vehicles coming up the drive, and Jeff having to explain about the computer.

The next few minutes were taken up with the others being escorted in by Jeff's younger wives, and all the introductions.

Time, as it does, drifted onward while the contract was read and finalized, nearing the signing stage. "We're all in agreement then?" Jeff's attorney asked.

There were affirmative comments all around, with Arthur Jackson giving his quiet agreement, but Jeff had not said anything.

"Mr. Matthews?" the attorney said.

There was a moment of silence, then, "No, " Jeff said into the quiet of the room.

From the Jacksons' attorney, "No? But..."

Everyone stared at Jeff. "Oh, I agree with the contents of the contract as it stands, but ... I think we need to attach an addendum."

"But you agreed..."

Jeff interrupted with, "When I sold my invention to Frank Wainwright, he added this building you are sitting in and the acreage that went with it to the contract. I want an addendum added that will stipulate that Mr. Jackson and his wife will retain ten percent ownership of the company."

Jeff's attorney, accustomed to Jeff, just smiled and turned to his assistant for a few seconds of whispered conversation. Dave stood and motioned to the assistant, "My office is next door. There's a printer there." The assistant picked up his laptop and followed Dave.

Jackson was staring at Jeff. "Mr. Matthews, this wasn't part of the agreement."

"Neither was the Retreat when Frank bought my invention. But the ten percent is fair under the circumstances. Besides, I think you are going to get better. When you're better, I would like to use you occasionally as a consultant. No use in all your knowledge going to waste. Who better than the man who founded the company? I mean no disrespect to Lee. I haven't even met him. But I want you still involved when ... you're better."

Jackson seemed uncomfortable. "You need to understand something. I've been reluctant to face reality, I guess. The heart operation was a measure to improve what I had, if ... it turns out to be successful. If it doesn't ... well, my doctor said the next option would be a heart transplant. That's the reason he's so adamant about my not being stressed."

"I still think you're going to get better," Jeff insisted. "And if worse comes to worst..."

"My wife will continue to have an income, plus a very nice nest egg," Jackson finished for him.

"That's not what I was going to say, but I have one stipulation that I would like to ask of you for adding the ten percent." Everyone stared at Jeff, "I think you should take a nap after the meeting is over. This has obviously stressed you, and remember what your doctor said."

"A nap?" Jackson repeated with a chuckle. "I'm fine."

"We could never impose..." Mrs. Jackson exclaimed.

"No imposition. There's a suite a few steps down the hall," Diana said, a smile touching her lips as she realized what Jeff was going to do. "And I certainly agree with my husband."

"Mrs. Henson said you were going to have a wedding here later today. I'm sure there are preparations that we would hinder."

"Everything is done," the Queen said, her smile almost seeming to brighten the room. "It's settled. After we've completed the paperwork here, I'll show you to your suite next door. A good nap in this mountain air will make your trip back easier."

As Jackson started to speak, the assistant came back with the printed-out addendum. Jeff's attorney read it and passed it to Jeff, who glanced at it and passed it back. After the principals had read it and verbally agreed to the addendum, "Are we now in agreement then?" Jeff's attorney asked.

The signing of the contract went quickly after the slow start.

Mr. Jackson asked to use the phone so he could tell Lee about the sale. Jackson also told him that the new owner wanted him to continue on as before and that the owner would be contacting him shortly.

-------

Later, Dave, Evie, Jeff and Diana sat around the Henson's kitchen table. "You do know that the Jacksons' attorney thinks you're nuts?" Dave said with a chuckle. "A nap. A friggin' nap. You about blew him away with the addendum, then you made a big deal about a nap."

"Well, you two know why I did it. Hell, the guy is one step from a heart transplant, assuming he lives long enough for the doctors to find him a heart. I couldn't let them leave here without helping him. A nap was the only thing I could think of."

Dave leaned back in his chair, laughing. "Yeah, I can just see it now. Here's the attorney out with his buddies for a drink on the way home from the office, and they start telling about weird things that have happened to them from time to time. Then Jackson's lawyer says something to the effect of, 'I had this guy once that insisted my client take a nap when he had signed the contract.'"

"Yeah," Jeff said with a chuckle, "I can see where he would probably think I have a screw loose, but still..."

Diana reached over to take her husband's hand. "Some cardiologist is going to be hard put to believe Mr. Jackson is well, and I imagine that the Jacksons are going to have a very interesting next few days when he suddenly feels normal again."

"Things occasionally happen that can't be explained," the Prime commented. "We'll let the doctors rationalize Mr. Jackson's healing away. He stood, walked to the kitchen counter and picked up the phone. "I told Jeremy I would let him know when the deal went through."

-------

Jeremy, Denise, Connie and five of the workers were taking their afternoon break. The three were sitting with their backs against a partially constructed chemical tank, while the others sat on concrete blocks as they sipped their drinks. Some, like Jeremy and his women, were eating snacks.

Jeremy's phone chirped. Handing Connie his half-eaten steak sandwich, he stood to fumble the phone from its holder. The phone was on its third ring before he managed to answer. Glancing at the caller ID, he said, "Hi, Jeff."

"Is this Jeremy?" Jeff asked. "Your voice sounded odd when you answered."

Jeremy tried to calm his nerves. "I ... guess I'm a bit excited," he confessed.

"Well, this might calm your nerves then. The deal has just been finalized. We're now the proud owners of a steel erection business. Unless Lee turns down the job, he'll continue to operate the company. Oh, yeah, Mr. Jackson will also continue as part owner and will probably be used as a consultant on a part-time basis. As soon as we're through with our conversation, I'm going to call Lee and ask him to give the official announcement when all the crews return to the company later today, but I have no problem with your telling the crew you work with."

"Thanks, Jeff. I don't know how to..."

"Thanks aren't necessary, except perhaps for me to thank you and your women for bringing the sale of your company to my attention. As I've already said, my accountant has verified that the company has been operating with a good profit margin. So, not only will my, uh, friend," he chuckled, "and his women maintain their jobs, but I'll make money out of the deal. Tell the people you work with, if you like, but leave the announcement to the other crews to Lee. We'll see you three this Thursday morning at six for breakfast. Or better yet, come up Wednesday night after work. Remember, you're family and will always be welcome."

"We'll be there," Jeremy mumbled as he closed the phone and turned to stare at his future wives. "Mr. Matthews bought the company. The deal is done," he said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Connie and Denise jumped up to hug him.

Ebbins, sitting close by, said. "This is the wealthy guy from Winter Park you told us about? The one who helped out on the farm?"

"Yep, but like I said, he doesn't live on the farm. I'm not sure, but I think he and Carla Chalmers have some type of business arrangement going on."

"Chalmers?"

"The lady who owns the farm. Lee was our crew boss then."

"So what about this guy? Is he going to shut us down and take all our equipment like the other outfit that Lee told us about?"

"No. Like I said before, he promised us he would keep the company going. He's going to let Lee run things."

"You believe him?"

"Yeah, I do." Jeremy realized that he was absolutely certain Jeff would do as he had said. "Yeah. I would bet my life on it. Jeff Matthews didn't lie to me."

Grinning, Ebbins stood and with his voiced raised enough for everyone to hear him, "All right, we still have our jobs. Let's hit it, people."

Jeremy grabbed the remains of his sandwich and quickly ate it before beginning the climb up the tank.

A very happy crew went back to work.

-------

Wilma Jackson lay on the bed beside her deeply sleeping husband, the worry within her so intense that she could hardly think. It was as if a weight sat across her chest. What am I going to do? Doctor Reynolds said we would know in a few days if the surgery and medication would help Arthur's heart. But he seems worse today. Is my husband going to die? What will I do? We never had any kids. For some reason, it just never happened. Since it didn't make any difference which one of us had the problem, we never went to a doctor to find out. I guess that God didn't want us to have any children. Now, I'm afraid I'm going to be left all alone. How can I live without him? she thought as she reached over to gently touch her husband's cheek.

He looks so weak and his face seems so gray. They saved him from dying the day he had his heart attack, so I've had him with me for a little while longer. Tears that she had been holding back began to flow down her cheeks. She forced herself to be quiet, knowing her husband needed his rest and would be worried about her if he saw her crying.

She happened to be looking at the door when it slowly opened partway. A hand holding something she couldn't make out reached into the dimly lit room. There was a blue light, a feeling of floating, and her world went away.

-------

Wilma slowly awakened, and as usual, listened for her husband's breathing. She would never tell him, but ever since his heart attack, she was plagued with the terror of waking to find he wasn't breathing. He sounds different,  was her first thought as she listened to his deep, easy breaths.

Maybe this mountain air has been good for him. She quietly chuckled at the absurdity of her thoughts. What's the difference in mountain air and normal air? Oh there's certainly less pollution in the air up here, but I doubt if that would make any difference in Arthur's breathing. I guess we just say things like that without thinking. Suddenly her thoughts solidified. Different. I feel different. She looked over at her husband again, focusing lower. There seemed to be a once-familiar hump in the sheet. I haven't seen that since his heart attack,  she thought as she finally found the remote and brought the room lights up a little in order to see better.

She had been wearing dress slacks with a nice blouse and Arthur had worn his best suit. They had both taken off their outer clothing, not wanting to face strangers with wrinkled clothes after Arthur's nap. I never thought I would go to sleep. I just wanted Arthur to rest a little before the drive back to Denver. Feeling like a teenager taking her first peak at a dick, she raised the sheet enough to see. As she suspected, her husband's cock was sticking through the fly of his shorts and standing straight up, as hard as she had ever seen it. I never thought I would see that again. The doctor said that a side effect of one of the medications would probably prevent that from happening. I don't dare touch him though, not with the damage that has been done to his heart.

"You know what to do with that, Baby," Arthur quietly said. He might as well have yelled his comment, because Wilma jerked and gasped out, "Oh,  you scared me. I thought you were asleep."

Arthur reached to unsnap her front-catch bra while kicking the sheet away. "Come on, Baby. That thing hasn't even twitched since the operation. Crawl on and let's see if it still works," he finished as he kicked his shorts off.

Horrified, his wife was shaking her head. "Arthur, we can't do that. You know what the doctor said. 'Nothing strenuous.' Nothing. And besides, your stitches haven't been out that long anyway."

"Fuck the doctor. We know I'm going to die soon. The only reason I sold the company is to make sure you had plenty of money to last you. If I die with my dick in that sweet pussy of yours, well, what better way to leave this world."

He rolled to his side. Facing her, he grasped her hips and rolled to his back, taking her with him. After pushing her panties down enough to get a toe hooked in them, he jerked them to her ankles and off. Startled at his sudden strength, she belatedly realized that he had lined his cock up with her entrance. "Arthur, we can't..."

He had pushed before she could move or even complete the thought. With a couple of strokes, he was seated to his balls, her wet pussy welcoming him. Then something happened that had not happened since they were in their twenties – Wilma orgasmed as soon as he had his dick seated in her. "Baby, I..." was all she managed to gasp out before her second orgasm followed on the heels of her first. That set up a chain of orgasms that were almost back-to-back. He sucked hard on a nipple while he hammered his cock into her. She kept trying to tell him that the doctor had forbidden what they were doing, but the orgasms were making coherent thought nearly impossible for her.

After minutes of him pounding her, she felt his cock pulsing into her, and it seemed to go on and on. She had always orgasmed when her husband made love to her, but never anything like this. At some point, he stopped thrusting into her and she lay gasping on his chest. "My goodness," she finally croaked out. Then she realized it. His cock was still fully erect, and he was chuckling. Not gasping for breath, but ... chuckling.

She raised her head from his shoulder to stare at her sixty-year-old husband. "I didn't die," he said, his chuckles turning into guffaws that got her to giggling despite her worries.

He pulled out of her, moved her and stood by the side of the bed. "Turn that pretty ass over here, Woman."

"Baby, no. We can't..."

He flipped her over, raised her to her knees, positioned and entered her. "Oh, shit, " she whined as his cock slammed against her womb. When they had been young, that had hurt, but now, her body knew what it wanted. Her hips thrust back at him, their many years of making love allowing her to almost instantly match his rhythm. She bit her hand trying not to scream. Without realizing it, she threw her head back and did just that, shaking her head from side to side, her hair falling into her face, the orgasms consuming her.

-------

She felt a damp washcloth wiping across her forehead. "What..."

"I think you fainted, Baby," Arthur said as he continued gently wiping her face until she reached up and stopped his hand.

"Are you okay?" she asked, but somehow she knew he was. His color was good – the gray from his face, gone.

"I'm fine, Baby. That medicine must have finally kicked in or something."

He leaned down to kiss her, and she felt the stirring in her loins again. Before she could say anything, his mouth sucked a turgid nipple. She put her arms around his head, pulling him hard against her breast. Without warning, an orgasm struck, shaking her body.

"Hey, you haven't orgasmed with me sucking your nipples in a few years," he laughed, "and I'm the one taking the medicine. What happened?"

"Stop, Baby," she managed as his lips encircled the other nipple. "As wonderful as that feels, we need to talk."

"This wasn't medicine, was it?" he asked as he lay back, his demeanor suddenly changing as he became serious. "Whatever has happened has affected both of us, hasn't it?"

Wilma took a deep breath, wanting him to continue to nurse her, but focusing on what they had been talking about. "Whatever has happened has obviously affected me, too." There was a moment before she continued in a quiet voice, "You were already deeply asleep, but I ... couldn't go to sleep. I was..."

"Worried about me," he offered.

"Yeah," she admitted. "But I saw something. Something very strange."

He turned to his side, his head propped on his hand supported by an elbow on the bed. "What did you see?"

"It sounds weird, but I swear to you I wasn't dreaming. The bedroom door opened just a little bit and a hand reached in holding something. The lights were down in here and I really couldn't see what it was, but then there was this ... blue light that seemed ... I don't know ... I felt like I was floating for a second. I had weird dreams, then I woke up feeling really well. I was hoping you were feeling better when I noticed your erection..."

Arthur frowned as he concentrated. Suddenly, he yanked his tee shirt up. "Look," he whispered. "There's no sign of the operation. Not even a faint scar. Oh, my goodness."

Wilma sucked in a breath as she ran a hand wonderingly over his chest, unable to say anything other than, "Arthur..."

He lay back on the bed, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he remembered his dreams of a blue light. Finally, "Now we know why Mr. Matthews, Jeff as he insists on being called, wanted us to stay and take a nap before starting back. Oh, it seemed logical. I was about to keel over." Jackson began to chuckle again. "He's an inventor, right?"

"Yes, I guess so," she managed. "He told us about selling his invention and the man who bought it making this place part of the contract. Something about radar."

Arthur rubbed his chest, marveling at the absence of pain and the disappearing scar. "So, he has invented something else. Something to heal a heart, but it probably hasn't been approved yet. Or maybe, he's negotiating for the sale, might be waiting for a patent to be approved. But he's obviously a nice guy, so he talked us into a nap – which damn sure wasn't hard, since I could barely walk and was exhausted – then when we were supposed to be asleep, he sneaked in here and did something to me that helped my heart."

"Only one thing wrong with that scenario."

"What?"

"He didn't just repair your heart, if indeed, that's what actually happened, and it sure seems like it did. But I feel better than I can ever remember feeling in my life. I've never had that many orgasms in a row, and my breasts are so sensitive that I'm almost afraid to touch my own nipples. As soon as you put your mouth on one of them, I came, and in case you didn't notice, it wasn't just a little orgasm, either. It was a full-fledged one," she finished, laughing.

Arthur's countenance changed, his mind wondering as he pulled his tee shirt down and looked for his shorts. "Well, whatever has happened, I'm hungry. I haven't really been hungry since my heart attack. I mean; I'm seriously hungry. I could eat the north end of a south bound polar bear."

Shortly, they were dressed and had stepped into the hallway. Two steps later, they faintly heard the distinct first bars of the Bridal March. Both froze.



-------

Chapter 173

Arthur and Wilma Jackson stood in the hallway for a second as the faint but distinctive sounds of the bridal march reached their ears. "Oh, crap," Arthur said as he looked at his watch, "I didn't realize it was this late. Where did the afternoon go?"

"Maybe we can sneak out..." Wilma started before she remembered where they had left their vehicle. My husband seems like a new man. When we came up here, he certainly could not have walked back to our car, but he screwed me until I'm sore. Problem is the way I'm dressed... 

"Our clothes would be okay to attend the wedding, I suppose," Arthur reasoned, "but I'm not interested in a wedding right now, even though they did invite us. We just need to get to our car and find a restaurant. I swear my stomach feels like it's gnawing on my backbone."

Wilma was shaking her head. "I'm hungry, too, but no way am I walking all the way down that driveway in these heels, and besides, we would freeze with just the light jackets we have with us. Mrs. Henson said they and the Matthews lived on a mountain, but somehow I didn't realize how high up we would be. It can't be much above ten degrees outside. It was almost forty in Denver when we left home, wasn't it?"

"Something like that, I guess."

Wilma took her husband's hand. "Come on. Let's go back into the suite while we decide what to do. We don't need to be out here in the hall with that wedding going on."

Inside, she stopped to carefully watch her husband as he walked over to sit on the couch. "You screwed my brains out a little while ago, and you're walking without any problems that I can see. Your heart isn't bothering you at all, is it?"

"Not a bit, Baby. I can't remember ever feeling this good. Oh, I guess I did when I was young, but that's been so long, I must have forgotten how good I could feel. I feel strong, and... hungry."

Both of their glances fell on the small refrigerator at the other end of the sitting room. "Do you suppose?" Arthur asked.

"Only one way to find out," Wilma said, putting action to words as she quickly walked over, her husband not two steps behind her. "Hey, there's a note on top," she added, picking it up.

Mr. and Mrs. Jackson;

We didn't want to wake you, but we will explain things later. There is a meal for each of you in the fridge. Three minutes in the microwave for each platter of food should be about right. We'll come and check on you as soon as the wedding is over. You're invited to the wedding, should you be up in time. We realize you don't know the people who are getting married, so if you choose to remain in your suite and relax, watch TV, or whatever, that will be fine, too.

See you when the wedding is over. You are invited to spend the night, and please understand, this is a heartfelt invitation. We would be very pleased to spend some time chatting with the two of you before bedtime, and we will have a breakfast bar you should love, so stay if you possibly can.

Diana

Arthur had the refrigerator open in a flash and one of the covered platters out. "Wow, look at that steak," he gushed as he raised the cover.

" ... and all the trimmings," Wilma added. "I can't believe they did this for us."

But if Arthur was paying any attention to her, he said nothing. Having already put his platter into the microwave, he punched up three minutes and hit Start.

Wilma was leaning over, continuing to look into the refrigerator. "What do you want to drink? There's an assortment in here."

"Something wet," Arthur said, never taking his eyes off the timer.

Wilma stood as a giggle burst from her. Other than earlier today, she couldn't remember the last time she had giggled. Fully realizing that her husband must, indeed, have been healed, she mentally gave thanks to God for whatever had happened to them. She knew that Jeff Mathews had done something, but she thanked God for allowing them to come up here so Jeff could heal Arthur and for the invention that had done the healing.

Arthur noticed her standing with her eyes closed while holding two soft drinks, and reached over to hug her. "Baby, if you're worrying about this not lasting, I think you're wrong. Whatever he did, or somebody did, the way I feel, well, I just know it's going to last. My body feels strong. Strong like I felt when I was in my twenties. Even that might be less than the reality. Like I said before, I can't ever remember feeling like this."

The microwave's timer dinged. He opened the door as Wilma handed him a couple of paper towels. He took them and lifted the platter out as she put the other one in.

"I'm just as hungry as you are," she told him.

"Good. Let's put this on the coffee table, and we can share the food while the other plate of food is warming."

Twenty minutes later, Arthur put his fork down, leaned back on the couch and laced his hands across his stomach. There wasn't a scrap of food left on either plate. Putting his hand on his wife's leg, he grinned and said, "Oh, man was that good."

"Superb," she said as she picked up the plates and eating utensils. Taking them into the bathroom, she rinsed them, then dried them with a towel. Back in the sitting room, she put everything on the coffee table and threw the empty drink bottles into the trash. Smiling at her husband, she sat on his lap as he chuckled just because he felt good. After a moment, she wiggled her ass a little. "Hmmm. What do I feel?"

"Suppose we could pass the time away..."

Wilma kissed him hard, then pulling back, "I would love to, but there's no way we're going to let them catch us in bed like a couple of teenagers. And besides, I'm a bit sore. We had better wait for bedtime."

"So, we're going to spend the night?"

"This is a beautiful building, hotel, or whatever. Why not? And besides, I have my husband back. We can pretend it's a one day honeymoon."

"Sounds good to me. But if we can't make love, can we just sit here and make out then?"

Wilma giggled at his remark, wondering as she heard herself make the sound again that she hadn't made in years. "No. That make-out session would last until you sucked on my nipples, then we would be making love when the Matthews walked in here." She found the TV remote and turned the set on.

"Spoil sport."

"Horny spoil sport," she laughed. "I'm just as horny as you are." She slid off his lap to sit beside him. Handing the remote to him, "Now find us something for you to watch while I sit and watch you."

Chuckling, Arthur began surfing the channels looking for something that would interest both of them.

-------

This is no big deal. This is no big deal,  General Henry Whitworth kept telling himself as he stood by Jeff and Diana, watching Ellen and Barbara as they came down the staircase. I've been married to Ellen for all these years, and Barbara joined us in our bed five years ago, thanks to Ellen's urging.

Despite his protestations to himself, he felt his knees grow weak as the two women reached the bottom of the steps, hesitated, then began their slow walk toward the front. They look so young. Little One has given all of us our youth back. Oh, I still look old enough to be a general, I guess, but I don't want to look any younger. Hell, I feel like I'm twenty, though. Barbara and Ellen look much younger than I do. Despite having seen the women nude countless times, his eyes followed the contours of their wedding dresses, imagining what lay beneath. They have always been pretty, but with Little One, they've become even more beautiful.

As the women neared, he felt his cock begin to swell. Oh shit. I can't be getting a hard on now. It's that damn shake Diana made me drink. Since Little One enhanced me, I surely haven't had any problems servicing my women. I didn't fucking need that shake. Go down, dammit,  he told his cock. Now, I remember Jeff's griping about his women giving him one of those shakes before he married a wife. I thought it was funny then, but I damn sure don't now. Go down.

As the women took the step to the short stage, their unfettered breasts shifted slightly under their dresses. It was all he could do to keep his dick from going to full erection. Sweat began to trickle down the center of his back.

Whitworth continued to fight back nerves that he couldn't understand. Why am I nervous? I'll sleep with Ellen and Barbara tonight just like I always do. He had thought the wedding unnecessary. He was legally married to Ellen, but that couldn't happen with Barbara, not legally, anyway, but since his women wanted this to happen, he had gone along with it, even pretended enthusiasm.

A few minutes later, when Jeff and Diana put their hands on his shoulders and declared the three husband and wives, Whitworth had an awakening. There were no words to describe the bond that he felt form. Oh, he had loved both the women, would have gladly given his life to save theirs, but this was different. Jeff had told him that a deeper bond would form, but saying that was a bit like saying there are a few stars in the sky.

As they felt the bond, the three of them took an audible breath at the same time. I almost told my women there was no use in this,  he thought. No wonder Jeff and Diana hesitate to describe this ... bond. No one would believe them. And to think that I used to fuck with this man because he wanted out of my organization. I knew when he leaned over my desk that day that something had changed about him. That something has continued to grow. I wish I could hear what Little One says about a Prime. I would just about bet that Jeff has not told us everything. Shit, I'm supposed to be his boss, but deep down, I know I will do anything he asks. But he hasn't pushed it. If he does, I won't ever be able to say no, no matter what he wants.

Still mentally reeling from the intensity of the bonds forming, the General and his wives turned to be introduced to the audience. Jeff's team was present, plus all the off-duty security officers. On-duty Security were watching on their helmet vids and on screens at the old ski lodge. The General had been talked into letting the personnel on the base also watch the wedding, after Jeff had assured him that everyone knew that Barbara was every bit as much a wife as Ellen. So Sergeant Higgens transmitted the proceedings to them from the back of the room.

I was certain I had been circumspect,  Whitworth had thought. Well, I know there are several men on the base with more than one woman living with them. I've never tried to dictate morals as long as it didn't interfere with duty. Now I'm doubly glad I didn't.

-------

Arthur Jackson got hastily to his feet to answer a knock on the suite's door. Jeff and Diana Matthews stood there, along with Dave and Evie. As Arthur ushered them in, Jeff pushed a serving cart in before him.

Thinking they were bringing more food, Arthur hastened to say, "That steak was wonderful..."

"That's good," Jeff said. "We were hoping you would like the meal. We expected you to be very hungry, but this isn't about food. Let's all have a seat, if you don't mind. We have a lot to talk about."

Somewhat puzzled, the Jacksons glanced at each other and sat on the couch. Jeff and Diana slid seats over, but Dave and Evie sat a little farther away.

Jeff hesitated, leaning forward in his seat, wondering how to proceed. "Uh, I guess you two have noticed the changes in your bodies – the changes in your apparent health?"

Arthur just nodded, but Wilma blurted, "I saw something. I saw a hand come past the bedroom door, and it had something in it. Then everything turned blue, and I had weird dreams involving a blue light."

"You're an inventor," Arthur said. "Is that what happened? You invented something that cured my heart; helped our bodies somehow?"

"Yes, I am an inventor," Jeff said, realizing that he could just let them continue thinking along those lines for now, "but ... I have a problem. A very big problem. When I realized how bad your health was, my conscience would not let me alone. I had to help you, but ... what has happened to you must never get out to the public. If it did..."

"There would be thousands of people here by morning, all demanding to be healed," Arthur interrupted to say. "How long before you're in production? Since it isn't headline news, I assume that what Wilma saw is a prototype?"

Jeff sighed. "There's much more to the situation than that. There might never be any production."

"But..."

"Look folks. Let's start over. How do you feel?"

"Like a million dollars," Arthur answered.

"I've never felt like this in my life," from Wilma.

Jeff looked into first Arthur's eyes, then Wilma's. "You'll shortly begin to notice other things. If you'll focus on what you want your apparent age to be, you will find that will gradually happen over the next few weeks. I must caution you, though. Be very careful with that. Some small amount of apparent youth can be explained away by saying you're on an exercise program and you have been dieting and taking supplements. Also, people who are familiar with you will tend to see what they expect to see. Gripe about pains, etc., or mention from time to time that you don't feel well, maybe have a headache or something, and chances are they won't notice or will just think you've always seemed younger than you actually are."

Jeff hesitated. Diana reached over and touched Wilma's hand. "We have to ask you two something. Jeff has taken a big risk in what he has done for you. If the knowledge gets out ... well, this could come back to haunt us – even destroy our family. What he did was done in good faith. Wilma, we knew that Arthur was ... very seriously ill."

"Let's just say it like it is. I was going to die shortly," Arthur inserted.

"We won't tell anyone, if that's what you're asking," Wilma said.

Diana took a breath. "We ... need to make sure of that." When the Jacksons looked a question at her, the Queen went quietly on. "Each of us – that is to say – all of us who live here in this building, all the Security personnel that take care of us, everyone who was at the wedding a little while ago, have undergone something that is simple and totally harmless, but it assures that our secret will not be told to outsiders. If you do this for us, you will not be harmed in any way. I, and all of us here in this room, pledge this to you."

Wilma looked at her husband for a second, but before he could speak, she said, "What must we do? Every day, Arthur was weaker than the day before. We've been praying almost nonstop since the operation. Maybe God has answered our prayers, just not in the way we expected." She took her husband's hand as she turned her head to look at him with love. "Now Arthur is suddenly strong again. Tell us what you want us to do."

-------

After the blocks, Jeff and Diana remained with the Jacksons for a while, just chatting and becoming friends. Dave and Evie volunteered to show the Jacksons around the Retreat, and more importantly, to also show them the kitchen and where they could find food in it for later in the night, should they get hungry – an almost certainty after what the Healer had done to them.

As the Queen and Prime passed Jeff's office, Diana stopped. "Go take care of your wives; I'll be there shortly. I have a phone call to make."

"Phone call?"

"Yes. I've been thinking about Jeremy and his women marrying Friday night. I think we need to include his sister in the wedding. They didn't say anything about it, but with everything hitting them all at once, they probably overlooked it, just as I did."

Jeff looked mystified. "You're going to call them this late? It's almost ten o'clock."

"I imagine Jeremy's sister would be very pleased to be part of the ceremony and would probably feel left out if we didn't include her. I also need to check with Jeremy's parents. They might want to take part, too. I understand that Connie and Denise don't have any close relatives, but they might want Jeremy's dad to give them away. Certainly, his sister will want to be a bridesmaid. I think she's probably too old to want to be a flower girl. Anyway, I need to get things moving."

"Do you have time to work this in? I mean, the dress..."

"That's the reason I need to talk to them right now."

"They're not going to be pleased if you wake them up. Remember, Jeremy said they live on a farm. Early to bed; early to rise, and all that."

"I had rather they be mad at me for waking them, than be really mad at me for not offering their daughter a place in her brother's wedding. Now scoot. Go make love to our wives. I'll be in there in a little while."

Jeff kissed his mate, swatted her on the ass and headed for their suite.

-------

"Hello."

"Mrs. Carter? I'm Diana Matthews."

"Mrs. Matthews! Jeremy, Connie and Denise told us all about you last night. And before you say anything, everything he said about you was good. Better than good. You and your family have impressed my son, without even mentioning your saving his job. Now, what can I do for you?"

"The job thing was easy. My husband is always looking for good investments, and the steel erection company seems like a good one."

The women chatted for a few moments, then, "I wish we could be together to discuss this, but there are some time restraints and other things that prevent that, so I'm just going to try this on the phone. First off, do you think Jeremy's sister...

"Paulette."

"Uh, sorry. Do you think Paulette would like to be in the wedding? Flower girl? Bridesmaid?"

"I'll call her to the phone and you can ask her."

Adriana called her daughter and husband, then, "Let me put the phone on speaker so they can hear you, too."

Diana heard Adriana brief her husband and daughter about the phone conversation.

Paulette spoke up so she could be heard as her mother put the phone on the coffee table. "I'll pass on the flower girl, but I would love to be a bridesmaid at my brother's wedding."

"You and your husband okay with that?" Diana asked.

There was a short pause as Adriana obviously checked with her husband, then, "Yes, we're good with it."

"If you can take Paulette's measurements for me tonight while we're on the phone, I'll call them in to the dress shop. They're running a night shift. I can virtually guarantee the dress will be ready Thursday morning when Jeremy, Denise and Connie come up for their fittings. Do you suppose you could bring Paulette up at the same time, or send her with Jeremy? The dress shop people are going to be here very early. We would love to have the three of you stay with us Thursday and Friday. That way, you could be here all day and help prepare for the wedding if you like. I realize you have a farm and there are chores seven days a week. If you can get someone to take care of your animals, we would love to have you both days. You might enjoy eating breakfast with Jeremy, Connie and Denise the morning after their wedding night."

Diana heard Paulette's soft giggle and response of, "Oh, I would love to see them Saturday morning."

"Paulette!" Adriana scolded, but there was a chuckle from Van in the background.

"I can probably get Aldridge to take care of things for a couple of days. He owes me from his last vacation," Van said to his wife and daughter, but Diana heard it also.

"That's super," the Queen said. "Now Paulette, I'm sorry I couldn't do this in person. I need to get your measurements so I can call them in to the dress shop."

"Momma, can I really? But, uh, the dress will be expensive."

"No problem, Sweetheart. We'll pay for the dress," Van said to his daughter. "It's not every day my son gets married." Then to Diana, "Just tell us how much and where to send the check, Mrs. Matthews."

"We'll discuss money Thursday morning, if the three of you can make it up here then. Jeremy, Connie and Denise will be here for breakfast at six. It would really work out better for the fitting if the three of you could be here at the same time. You're invited for breakfast, of course. What about school for Paulette?"

"She's a straight 'A' student and never misses school, so a couple of days off won't be a problem," Van responded.

"The dress shop people will bring equipment with them to make any necessary alterations, but, usually, alterations are not required if we do a good job with the measurements."

"I need to get my tape measure..."

A moment later, "Here, Mom," Diana heard as Paulette, having anticipated her mother, grabbed one out of the drawer Adriana used to keep her sewing in, and brought it to her.

"So you and your husband don't want to be in the wedding? Van could give the brides away, should they want him to, of course."

Husband and wife glanced at each other. "I think we would rather just watch," Adriana said as Van shook his head. "That way when Van and I cry, we won't be standing in front of everybody," she finished with a definite sniff.

-------

A few minutes later, Diana hung up the phone and leaned back in her husband's big executive seat, thinking. Odd how I liked those people just talking to them on the phone. It's obvious they love each other. Paulette and Adriana teased Van when I said the measurements would be more accurate if Paulette took off her outer clothing. As he was apparently leaving the room, Van told Paulette he was going to get a hand mirror to slip it around the door and spy on her. They were all laughing as Adriana told him he would go blind if he did. They obviously enjoy being together. It seems like I've known them forever.

Smiling, she dialed the dress shop.

-------

Jennie and Hope lay in Hope's bed, both supposedly reading, but neither having the slightest awareness of the books they were holding. "We talked on the phone several times a week; why didn't you tell me what was happening? Jeff would have put a stop to it," Jennie said as she put her book down.

Hope didn't respond, but continued as if she were reading. Just as Jennie decided that Hope hadn't heard her, Hope dropped the book on her lap and began quietly crying. There weren't any sobs, but just big tears rolling down her cheeks.

Jennie turned to her side and took her younger sister into her arms. She stroked Hope's hair and kissed her forehead. "It's okay, Baby. It's okay. No one will ever hurt you again."

The silent tears went on, the only sound from Hope, an occasional snuffle as she drew a ragged breath past her misery.

"Have you ever told anyone about what happened? We know that Helen is trying to help you. You need to trust her."

Jennie managed to reach a box of tissue, handing a handful to Hope.

Hope dabbed at her eyes. "No, uh, a little, I guess. I'm ... ashamed of the things I did..."

"Were you forced to do those things?"

"Uh, yeah, but ... I ... after a while, I just, uh, did them." She went quickly on, "I knew that Daddy would hurt me if I didn't. He hurt me bad at first. I just ... I don't know..."

"Was he fucking you while I was still living at home?"

After a snuffle, "Yeah."

"Shit. That sorry bastard. He forced me the first time, and I was stupid enough to let him. Then I continued to let him after he said he would leave you alone if I 'serviced' him. Shit. Shit. Shit. That lying bastard did you anyway. Now I'm even more glad he's dead. When we all walked in on you that night, I knew we should have taken you with us, but Jeff and Diana thought what was happening was consensual, and I guess I did, too. Why didn't you say something? You acted as if everything was fine."

But Hope was shaking her head. "I just didn't know. I didn't realize ... Would Jeff really have taken me with him? I mean ... I was already a whore. My asshole father was using me to service rich guys on the weekends. I was ashamed. I was afraid to tell anybody."

"Helen hasn't told us anything you two have discussed, but she did say that you needed to trust us and talk about what happened. If you want to talk, I'll never tell anyone. We're sisters; you know I love you. I really think it would help if you told me everything. You know that I would never condemn you, no matter what you've done. Just because you gave up and did what our asshole father wanted, doesn't mean you did it willingly. Just because he didn't stand over you with a belt all the time, doesn't mean he didn't make you do it."

"But ... I enjoyed some of it," Hope whispered. "I hated most of it, but sometimes ... sometimes I came. I orgasmed. I'm a whore."



-------

Chapter 174


"But ... I enjoyed some of it," Hope whispered. "I hated most of it, but sometimes ... sometimes I came. I orgasmed. I'm a whore."

Jennie wrapped her sister in her arms, Hope's body now wracked with sobs. "Hush, Baby. Hush. You're not a whore. You're just normal," Jennie kept saying as she added her tears to Hope's.

After a few minutes, Jennie pushed back to look Hope in the eye. "You were raped. You were raped every time you did it against your will. And ... our bodies are designed to respond to a man's cock inside us. From what I've read, it's not that unusual for a woman to orgasm while she's being raped – no matter how much she hates what's being done to her."

There was total quiet for so long that Jennie had begun to think that Hope wasn't going to say anything more, then, "I had to fuck them. I couldn't just lie there. Oh, I tried to focus on other things – to daydream, I guess you could say – but I could only do that to a point. If a man complained, our father would beat me, and some of those assholes loved to inflict pain." There was quiet again for a short time. "But some of them didn't hurt me. They got off on thinking I was just twelve or something. They like to fuck kids, I guess. Most of the time, our father made me dress up like a little girl. I hated that, and I hated him, but ... I did have orgasms. Oh, not all the time, but if the man wasn't hurting me, and he lasted for a while, I sometimes did.

"Some of those men would lick my pussy, even my ass, and some even spent a lot of time trying to make me come. Once they got their dicks in, most came fairly quickly, but there was one guy who had been drinking. He fucked me half the night and he still couldn't get off. He was one of the ones who beat me. He pinched my nipples and my clit so hard that they were swollen for days, and hurt so bad. But the worst of all of them was the one whose picture I drew. He is just ... evil.

"There was an old man who beat me because he couldn't get it up, even with Viagra. I dream of that a lot. I ... I'm still afraid to go to sleep because I know the dreams are coming. They are so real, and they come so often. I'm just ... I'm just... afraid to sleep."

Jennie hugged her sister, their tears mingling. "Hush, Baby. Hush. You're surrounded by Alphas now. Nothing will ever hurt you again. We live here protected by some awesome weapons, according to Jeff and the General. Not to mention the Security people or the Ship. Jeff said she would be here almost instantly if we're attacked, and when you have nightmares, I'm here to wake you."

"But you're not sleeping with your husband or your sister-wives..."

"Jeff will make love to me in the morning, and after I stay with you a few nights, someone else will sleep with you for a time. We'll conquer this thing together."

Hope sat up and blew her nose, tossing the tissue into the trash can. (Hope's suite didn't have the automatic trash can, yet.) With a sigh, she collapsed onto her back.

Jennie tickled her sister until she giggled. "Hey, I know what you need. It's something Jeff says sometimes."

"What's that?" Hope asked, suppressing a giggle.

"Some of the 'hair of the dog that bit you.'"

Hope started to laugh, then looked hard at her sister. "That's not funny."

"Well, I guess it is kinda gross to think of it that way, but what I really meant was that you need your own man to make love to you. To ... make you forget about all those bad times."

"I'm not interested in a man – any man."

"Have you ever been made love to?"

"You know I've been fucked many times."

Jennie let out a little sigh. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. Have you ever had a man take his time, be gentle with you, make love to you?"

Hope squeezed her eyes tight and shook her head. "No. No ... but I never want that to happen. I've had all of that I will ever want."

Jennie absently ran her hand through Hope's hair, almost petting her. "You have no idea, Sweetheart. No idea at all."

Hope was staring at the ceiling. "Oh, yes I do," she snapped. "I've had it all, and I don't like any of it. Some of them even fucked me in the ass. It hurt and I bled. They've licked my pussy, shot off in my mouth, tried to push their dicks down my throat, made me ride them, sucked my tits, mauled my nipples, fucked me with my legs on their shoulders, screwed me in positions you wouldn't believe. And,  I even came for some of them. Oh, I always faked it if I didn't come, but coming wasn't worth what I had to put up with to get an orgasm. All I wanted was a gun so I could kill myself. I don't need any man. I've had plenty of them."

Hope looked over at her sister, shocked to see the tears flowing freely out of Jennie's eyes, yet again. "Oh, you poor baby," Jennie whispered. "Oh, you poor baby."

Hope took a big breath and let it out in a shudder. "What are you crying for? You just finished telling me I was safe. You, Jeff, Diana – everybody – has told me I could live here forever and nothing would ever hurt me. I know that, and I'm happy with it. So why are you crying?"

Jennie took a breath, grabbed some tissue and wiped her eyes. "Because, My Sister, you have no idea what you're talking about when you say you don't need a man, and it's sad to think about all the men who used you, but obviously, no one ever made love to you."

Hope turned her head to stare at the ceiling again. "The last thing I need is a man. I can have all the orgasms I want by myself. Those orgasms may not be as strong as you say yours are, but I like them, and I don't need a man shoving his thing up me to get off. And before you say anything else, I know all men aren't like the ones who our father whored me out to, but I also know that a dick is a dick. Some are larger than others; some are harder than others, some are uglier than others, but if I ever need anything other than the vibrator you gave me – I can just buy a dildo on the net."

"So you liked my gift?"

Hope managed a giggle, turning for a moment to grin at her sister. "That thing produces some really intense orgasms."

"You like a clitoral vibrator, huh?"

Hope was slow to answer this time, her face flaming. "Yeah. Yeah, I like it a lot," she finally said.

Jennie propped up on an elbow to look at her sister. "Just imagine an orgasm that's about a hundred times as good as the ones you get from the vibrator."

Hope produced an entirely unladylike snort. "Yeah, right," she responded, the sarcasm fairly dripping.

"Honey, you're almost sixteen. None of the men here will touch you until you're above the age of consent. It's sixteen in this state. But when you're sixteen, you can have any of Jeff's Alphas for a mate – for a husband. You don't want anyone else. Trust me on that. You like Art, don't you?"

"Yeah, he's pretty nice, and so is Jeff and the others, but ... I'm not interested in any man. I told you that."

"Since you mentioned Jeff, how about him? You could be in that big bed with me – with all of us. Then there's Dave, or Bill, or Frank. And don't forget Fred just because he doesn't live here, but he's not far away. And Jeremy is an Alpha, too. Then there's the General. He's a bit stuffy, but Ellen and Barbara say he's a really nice guy and he treats them like they're his princesses. Of course, you would have to live on the base if you chose him."

"Like I said, my vibrator does all I need, and I don't have to put up with a man shoving his thing up me. Besides, you gave me enough batteries to last for a year," she finished, giggling. "I wouldn't want to waste them."

Jennie sighed. "You're equating the men who raped you with an Alpha making love to you. Apples and oranges. Nothing alike. Jeff makes love to me the way I want him to. Oh, I don't usually direct him. But, sometimes I want to be taken hard, and I tell him that, but it's still making love. And sometimes, we catch him in the garage, or on the indoor range, or even in the living room when we're fairly certain we won't be seen, and several of us 'attack' him. We call it 'sport fucking.' We yank his pants down, push him back into a chair, sit down on his cock and ride him. If we're lying down, one of us sits on his face and feeds him pussy while the other one fucks him. Even then, we can feel his love for us – actually feel it."

"I can't imagine volunteering to do something like that. Oh, I had to do it to those men, but I also had to fake my orgasms most times."

Jennie burst into giggles. "Trust me, Little Sister, you won't have to fake anything with Jeff, or any of the other Alphas, according to their women. Just like Art last night. He made love to his two wives until their pussies were so swollen it was scary."

"Just like a man," Hope blurted.

"No," Jennie burst out, before she calmed her response somewhat. "No. We initiate at least half of our love making, and with the 'sport fucking' it's almost always one of us initiating things. Oh, Jeff 'caught' me at the vanity sinks in our suite a few days ago and took me. I was bending over the sink, supposedly brushing my teeth, when he pushed that marvelous cock into me. I knew he was watching and I made my boobs jiggle to help attract him as he watched me in the mirror.

"He had to hold me up after a few minutes of near constant orgasm. We both knew I seduced him, but we pretended otherwise. Hope, you've never really had an orgasm until an enhanced Alpha gives you one. Jeff couldn't rape us if he tried. You can't rape a willing pussy, and we're always willing. And 'willing' isn't a strong enough word. If Jeff came in here right now and told me to get on my knees with my butt hanging over the side of the bed, you would just have to be embarrassed, because I would have my ass in his face in a heartbeat."

Hope was shaking her head. "Come on; you're exaggerating. I mean ... he's your husband of course, but..."

Jennie grinned back at her sister. "Okay, Jeff probably wouldn't do it because of his respect for your feelings. With most any of Jeff's wives, particularly us younger ones ... you would just have to be embarrassed. None of us would miss a chance of having that big, beautiful cock pushed up us. That's what I mean about the orgasms. Once you have an Alpha-induced orgasm, particularly when he trips your orgasm switch, there's no going back. You're hooked kinda like you would be if you tried using meth. (methamphetamine) Only with an Alpha, everything truly is wonderful. We all have vibrators, of course. Heck, you wouldn't believe our assortment of toys. We play with them sometimes, but nothing comes close to his wonderful cock – nothing."

Hope was staring at her sister. "You're exaggerating. There's no such thing as an orgasm switch. That's ... impossible."

"So, I'm lying to my baby sister, then?"

"I uh ... didn't mean it quite like that."

"All the Alphas can do it. Well, maybe not Jeremy. His women say he's still a virgin, but I suspect Jeff will teach him how before the wedding. Jeff says the orgasm switch thing sets up a feedback loop. I have no idea how he does it. He just does. I do know my orgasms are wonderful, and I can feel my husband's love for me. After a while, I pass out because my brain can't manage the intensity of the feelings. Sometimes we don't have time for him to make love to each of us – that is to have him actually push his cock into us. But like I said, if we're touching him or the woman he has his cock in, we get our switch flipped just as she does. It's so real that my vulva will be swollen and red just as it would be if he had his cock up me. But usually he finds time in the day to actually fuck each of us, should we not have him in us the night before. But I can feel his cock pumping sperm into me, even though he isn't actually touching me, just my sister-wife. That's an Alpha, Sweetheart. You need one to make your life complete."

"So, you're saying that when I become sixteen, I'll have to choose my, uh, mate?"

"Of course not, Silly. I just meant none of the men would touch you until you're of age, and that day isn't far away. Once you pick an Alpha, he'll love you, or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe he will do the picking, or his wives will. I don't know. It's something I can't explain. Anyway, you'll be his for life, and he'll be yours."

Hope was shaking her head. "But you have thirteen other wives to compete with. It just doesn't seem that you could possibly be satisfied with that many other women vying for his attention."

Jennie hesitated, wondering how to form her response. Then with a sigh, "My sister-wives don't compete with me, and neither do I with them. And even if they did, I would rather have one fourteenth of Jeff's time than all of any other man's time. Besides, he'll cuddle with me or listen to me when I want to talk, just as will any of my sister-wives. We're all married to each other. There's not an instant of the day or night that I don't feel loved."

The two sat silently for a little while as Hope digested Jennie's last remarks. Hope took a breath, slowly letting it out, then very quietly said, "I've never even kissed anyone other than our Father, brother and those other assholes. I've never gone on a date; never even sat and made out with a boy."

Jennie smiled back at her sister. "I could go into our bedroom right now and make love to my husband. He's making love to my sister-wives as we speak. I've had to focus to keep from coming when they do."

"Are you saying you can feel them making love? Sorry, Jennie, but that's ridiculous. No one can do that."

"Watch," Jennie said with a smile as she pulled her negligée over her head. After taking her panties off, she lay on her back. "Just be quiet for a few minutes."

"What are you..."

Jennie closed her eyes. "Shhhh. Just watch."

After a moment, Jennie's breathing picked up, then a few seconds later, turned ragged. Her face flushed and the blush crept down her body, her nipples swelling and their color deepening to a dark pink. Hope could smell her sister's arousal.

"Are you thinking about your husband?" she asked, forgetting to be quiet.

"Uh huh. In a way, but mostly, I'm just feeling Susan as Jeff is making ... love to her," Jennie got out, the pitch of her voice rising as she struggled to talk. After a moment of quiet, "Oh, shit," the young woman hissed out as her body arched up from the bed.

Hope was mesmerized as she leaned over to watch Jennie's labia swell and turn a dark rose, her lubrication dripping out as Jennie's breathing became harsh and her body shook. With a gasp, she was in full orgasm, and it went on for a considerable length of time.

Finally, her body collapsed back to the bed, sweat beading her face and upper body as Hope stared. "You weren't kidding, were you?" she whispered.

"Water," Jennie gasped out, her voice barely audible. "Could you get me some water, please?"

A few seconds later, Jennie drank the water Hope hurriedly brought her. Finishing it, she turned to put the glass on the bedside table. "That's the first time I've really tried to feel my sister-wives orgasms when I wasn't right there with them. Oh, I can generally feel them if I'm not too far away, but this time I concentrated. I really didn't expect it to be that intense."

Hope slid back into bed, but couldn't seem to take her eyes off her sister. "You really did, didn't you?"

"You have to ask?" Jennie giggled.

"No. I mean you really felt a sister-wife's orgasm. I wasn't asking if you just had an orgasm. It's obvious that you did."

Jennie, her voice much stronger now, went on after a sigh, "Jeff was making love to Susan. I wonder if she realized I was tagging along."

"That's ... Uh, that's what being married to an Alpha means? You have strong orgasms like that?" Hope got out.

Jennie chuckled. "That was just a little one. I was too far away to feel the full effect. Susan got the real thing and promptly fainted. Of course, if I had been touching her or Jeff or any of the women who was touching either of them, I would have fainted too." Jennie winked at Hope, "Like I said, Sister, you need an Alpha. Once you've had a real orgasm, you will forget about all those sorry bastards that abused you."

-------

Hope lay in bed, her mind locked onto what had happened earlier. She turned to pick up the remote and gradually brought the room lights up enough to see her sleeping sister more clearly. She is truly beautiful. She's always been pretty, but she's changed since she's been out here. Jeff told me the Healer's enhancement had different aspects to it – that it did more than just make us healthy. What he said must be true, but having an orgasm supposedly produced by Jeff and Susan in another suite down the hall? I can only imagine what that must have been like. Sweat was pouring off her, yet she hadn't even moved, except to arch her body up as if she were holding herself up for her lover's cock.

Hope gently lifted the sheet to gaze at her sister's breasts. Her nipples aren't extended now, barely noticeable through the negligée she's wearing. Hope laid the sheet gently back in place and returned the lighting to near darkness as she relaxed to her back, continuing to remember Jennie's orgasm. Her body was flushed, her nipples erect and even her vulva was flushed and swollen, yet she had not touched herself at all. And ... she said that was a little orgasm. Heck, it was a second hand orgasm. I can't even begin to imagine what Susan must have experienced. Jennie says that Susan fainted, that they all do when Jeff "flips their switch" or comes inside them.

My best orgasm – ever – was with the clitoral vibrator, and that obviously wasn't in the same category with what Jennie experienced a few minutes ago. I feel ... cheated. I want orgasms like the one Jennie just had.

Hope pulled the sheet up and tried to go to sleep. When her mind drifted to Jeff, Oh, great. I'll probably blush crimson when I see him. I know Jennie will tell him what she just did – heck, she will probably tell all her sister-wives too.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

The Jacksons had just left for home. At eight on the dot, General Henry Whitworth held the door open for his wives to enter the kitchen. Art, Jeff, Dave, Bill and Frank were sitting at the big table, supposedly drinking coffee, but were actually waiting for the General and his wives to show. Jeff pushed a chair out with his foot and Whitworth sat down without saying anything. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe sitting nearby.

Ellen and Barbara, after telling the men good morning, hurried to the other end of the kitchen to talk with Joyce, Diana, Laura and Helen. Joyce was still in her uniform, having recently arrived home from work. The six women were soon giggling while occasionally glancing back toward the men.

Jeff grinned at the General. "Uh, Sir, not to be disrespectful, but you..."

"Don't even fucking start," Whitworth quietly said as he stared at his coffee. "I was dumb enough to think there was nothing to this. Hell, I've been living with both of them..."

"And..." Jeff prompted as the other Alphas pretended to not pay attention.

"I managed to close my eyes twice last night," the General continued. "Close my eyes. Note, I didn't say anything about sleeping." He paused for a moment before going on. "I thought this would be something like renewing our vows between Ellen and me, and Barbara would be aboard this time so we could all say we were married. Women have a different view on things," he finished as if he had just made an amazing new discovery.

"And..." Jeff prompted again.

"And...  Colonel, I'm suddenly much more impressed with your having fourteen wives – much more impressed, indeed." Dave, Bill and Frank suddenly developed coughs to cover their sniggers. Whitworth glared at them, then looked over at Jeff, finally meeting his eyes, and in a voice only loud enough to be heard at the table, said, "You have another tube of that pussy cream? I'm in dire need of it."

Desperately holding back a grin, Jeff unobtrusively handed Whitworth a new tube of the cream. Whitworth put the box out of sight on his lap after a quiet thanks.

"Diana orders it by the case. We have plenty of it. Your women okay?" the Prime asked just as quietly.

Whitworth, his eyes sparkling with merriment, grinned. "I raised the flag for us males. My wives are going to need a soak in the Jacuzzi and a bit of cream, I suppose. And ... I'm going to need a few hours of sleep – if I have enough strength left to walk back to our suite. Oh, yeah, Ellen and Barbara really liked the overhead mirrors in the honeymoon suite."

The women brought the food, terminating the conversation. Ellen and Barbara piled the General's plate high with steak, eggs and home fries. Joyce hugged the General's neck and whispered into his ear, "Well done, General." As the color of his face deepened, she smiled and pushed a platter of biscuits near. "Eat up, Sir. Your wives tell me they have plans for you." Turning, she leaned over to kiss her husband, deeply. "Want to come tuck me in? I have to work tonight."

"You bet, Baby," the Prime said, rising to his feet.

"Jennie is waiting on you," Diana called out as Jeff and Joyce walked out of the kitchen.

Later:

Joyce was asleep, a satisfied expression on her face. Jennie and Jeff, wrapped in each other's arms, stepped into the hallway as they exited the Matthews' suite. Jennie laid her head against his shoulder as they stopped to talk to Arlene, who had just walked up. "Our husband just screwed my brains out, as if you didn't know," Jennie giggled.

Arlene smiled back and pecked her sister-wife on the lips, then turned to her husband to kiss him for a little longer. "I need to talk to you when you have time."

Jennie knew, as did Jeff, that whatever Arlene wanted to talk about was serious, or she would have just begun the conversation. "Uh, I need to get to class," Jennie said.

"I'll tell you about it later," Arlene assured her sister-wife as she squeezed her hand for a second.

"No problem," Jennie said, kissing Arlene on the cheek and hurrying down the hall.

Arlene took her father's hand. "Let's go sit in your office."

"That serious, huh?" Jeff said in a somewhat teasing tone.

Arlene tugged on his hand. "Come on. It's not something bad. I just need your advice."

Inside his office, Jeff sat on the couch. Arlene chose to sit on his lap, putting her head on his shoulder and letting out a soft sigh as she settled against the man she loved with all her heart.

"You're beginning to scare me, Baby. What's the matter?"

Arlene pulled back a little, touched the side of his face in a loving gesture, then gently kissed him, molding her body to his, her braless breasts pushing against his chest. Finally, she pulled back. "The other day, when I sat in that command couch on the Ship..."

"And?"

"I never did tell you what happened."

"So what happened?"

"Oh, not much, but she, uh, said something to me." There was a little giggle from the teenager, before she went on. "I guess 'said' doesn't exactly cover it, huh?"

"Baby, you told me a little about what the Ship said, but you were pretty vague. I knew something important happened when you sat on that couch, but I purposely didn't ask you for any details. But understand this. You were in the healing chamber after you were shot. I suspect you had an experience similar to mine. You told us about the light and the women you talked to while you were being healed..."

"She ... didn't say much to me the other day, just gave me a 'picture' of what she needed – something she wants me to do. Something that I need to talk to her about some more – a lot more. I mean ... I'm barely past being a kid and this scares me. I'm..."

" ... a grown woman. A very intelligent young woman," he finished. "We both know it; everyone here knows it, so let's not start degrading yourself. By facing that mercenary in the hallway the way you did, you made a decision to die for your family so others could live. You're young, a teenager, but you're a fully responsible woman, too. Everyone in our family – our extended family even – knows that. You're a Queen, but in addition to that, your sister-wives as well as everyone else here, knows what you did that day. It changed you. It changed us."

"But I wasn't the only one who fought. We all did in one way or another."

"Nevertheless, my Little Queen, what I say is true, and you know it. You know it, but you don't brag about it. Won't even admit it. But enough of that. The Ship told me she had plans for you, with my permission of course. But she told me your discussion on the subject wasn't complete. I told her to discuss things with you first. When you have the knowledge you need, the Ship and I will discuss it."

Arlene shifted on his lap, leaning back a little to stare him in the face. "I'm ... a little scared. Her mind..."

Jeff let out a quiet chuckle. "You're telling me? Oh, I know she won't hurt you, if that's what you're alluding to. What she did to those pilots was totally unintentional. She let them see, uh, feel a little too much of her mind. She knows better now. Moreover, I suspect their ... attitudes were a bit on the 'take command' side ... They were the best of the best – and they knew it. But then they met up with a mind they couldn't even conceive of."

" ... And she showed them that they couldn't command her," Arlene finished for him.

Jeff hesitated for a second. "I don't think it was quite that way, but you're probably not that far off. I think it was more in the neighborhood of allowing them free access to her mind and they weren't ready for it."

Arlene kissed her husband, pulled back and smiled. "What you really mean, but you're too modest to say it, is that the Ship was waiting for her Prime to take command. Instead, the pilots, who were pretty hot stuff in their own minds, sat in your command seat and assumed they were going to command her with their puny little brains. The old 'bite off more than you can chew' adage comes to mind," she giggled.

"So you want..."

" ... to go talk to the Ship. But ... I'm scared spitless to go alone."

"So hop up, My Wife. Let's go visiting."



-------

Chapter 175


STILL WEDNESDAY MORNING

Arlene and Jeff had gone to visit the ship. Diana had sent Jeff a questioning look when he told her where they were going, but he just smiled and said they would discuss it when they got back.

An hour or so later, those in class were hungry, but it wasn't quite time for lunch. Diana and Laura volunteered to prepare a snack for everyone. In the kitchen, they put a large platter of cut-up fruit on the table. Diana was returning from a cabinet with a stack of small serving bowls to take back to class, when Billy suddenly appeared on the table near the platter of fruit.

"SCAT!" the Queen instantly yelled.

Never having been yelled at, Billy took a nervous step back, which was, incidentally, closer to the platter of fruit, the kitten wondering what the Queen meant by the odd sounding word.

"SCAT! Get off the table."

He didn't understand what her words meant, but Diana's volume and menacing look communicated. "Pop," and he was on a kitchen counter. "Mmeeow?" he questioned.

Diana slammed the stack of bowls down on the table and whirled to the sound of his voice. Pointing a finger at the kitten, "Off that counter, Young Man. We prepare food there and we don't need cat hair in it. Scat."

"Pop." He was in a chair near the door. "Mmeeow?"

"Okay, that will do for now. But the kitchen is off limits for you."

Turning to Laura who had her hand capped over her mouth trying to suppress a giggle, "And what would you have done?" Diana groused.

The two women looked at each other for a moment before Diana started laughing. "Oh, all right."

The Queen walked over to the kitten and picked him up, loving him and petting him. Kissing him on the nose, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, but you can't be in the kitchen. What if someone finds a cat hair in their food, huh?" As she petted him, he raised his tail and purred, rubbing his face against hers. Tucking him against her neck, she picked up the phone and dialed the classroom.

When Helen answered, "How about sending Selina to the kitchen to retrieve her kitten. He came exploring as Laura and I were getting the snack ready."

Shortly, the kitchen door burst open. "There you are," Selina said as she glared at Billy. Turning to Diana, "I must apologize, My Queen. I became involved in an assignment and I was unaware Billy had vacated his bed." (Billy has a cat bed in the classroom.)

"He hasn't done anything wrong except for coming in here. I had rather the kitchen be off limits for him." Chuckling, she continued, "I don't think he knows what 'scat' means." Diana was unaware of her frown that communicated more than she meant it to.

"Oh, I bet he does now," Laura said with a chuckle.

"Okay, so I overreacted. I've apologized, haven't I Billy?" the Queen said as she held the kitten against her face to love him. Handing him to Selina, Diana continued, "Try to keep him out of here. Maybe he got the idea by my yelling at him."

"I apologize, My Queen. I shall endeavor to do so."

Diana ruffled the kitten's fur as Selina held him. "Nothing to apologize for. I have no idea how you could possibly keep him from teleporting wherever he pleases, but give it some thought, anyway. He's been such a great little guy, but now that he can teleport ... Well, I really don't want him around our food."

"Yes, My Queen."

Laura and Diana took the fruit and serving bowls back to the classroom. Selina, her mind hyperactive, walked beside them as she thought furiously.

-------

Diana and Jeff sat in the living room. Although the room was set up for the night's wedding, Jeff had cleared a space a few feet in front of the window so they could look out at the view as they talked. Besides, he wanted as many distractions as he could manage for the moment.

"I do not like this, Jeff. She's sixteen, for goodness sake."

"Di, she has the heart of a warrior, just like Kayla."

"Fuck that. She's my daughter," the Queen almost snarled.

Jeff reached to take Diana's hand, her seldom-displayed use of profanity demonstrating how serious she was. "Baby, it's not as if she would do this by herself. If things come together the way I've envisioned, we'll all be there anyway."

Diana turned her head to stare at him. "What does that mean?"

"That's for the future, but if the Ship says she's the one, then ... she is."

"Oh, and that's supposed to make me feel better? I do not like this."

"Baby, Arlene wouldn't be in any more danger than the rest of us."

Diana snorted. Jeff hadn't known she could, at least not like that. "Here we go again. You won't tell me why you've included the rest of us in your comment, and yet I'm supposed to go along with this, anyway."

"What could it hurt for her to learn? Look Di, we've known for years that there's something special about her. She's smarter than any of my other young wives..."

"Careful there, Husband. That could get you in major trouble, and hurt some feelings besides."

"Bullshit, all the girls talk about that. Oh, Ann is close, and all my younger wives are way smarter than average, but..."

"Younger wives? So your older wives..."

Jeff could feel the conversation boxing him in, and being a long-time husband, knew that he was being manipulated. "Di, Helen is a genius. Laura can make a computer do things I can only dream about doing. You, My Queen, have blown me away time and again. I'm constantly telling people how smart you are, so please stop this. The Ship is positive this is the way to go, and our intelligence compared to hers – well, there is no comparison."

"I don't want my daughter..."

"Maybe you need to talk to the ship. When you see what she has in mind, you might very well have a different opinion."

"But you're the Ship's fucking commander. You tell her what to do. Where does she get off..."

Jeff pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap, hugging her to him, although she tried to push away. The tears began to flow. "Dammit, she's my daughter. I don't want her to..."

" ... grow up," Jeff supplied. "She already has, Baby. She grew up when the two of you decided to seduce me. When you offered me your daughter to make sure I forgot about divorcing you. We all changed that day, and as Little One gradually learned to communicate with us – through me – things continued to change. Arlene changed with us. She's my wife as well as my child. She's your sister-wife as well as your child. Do you think I would allow anything to hurt her?"

Diana dug in his pocket for the couple of paper towels he always seemed to have. As she sat up and wiped her eyes, "Promise me. Promise me that she won't get hurt, that this won't change her."

"Di, I promise the Ship won't hurt her. I can't promise she won't be affected by this. Power always changes people. Sometimes good; sometimes bad. Do you think she can handle the power? How much faith do you have in her? Remember, she's a born Queen, just like you. You're the Queen of our little clan. Has your power changed you?"

"No, of course not. Well ... maybe some, but I love everyone here. I could never intentionally hurt or sadden anyone."

Jeff grinned at her. "Bet Hagewood would argue that point – if he weren't dead."

"It wasn't me that killed him. That .45 of yours went through his head..."

" ... at the same time your round did. But you had already stitched him from his groin on up before I fired. Di, everybody here asks your advice. Suppose that's an accident, hmmm? You run everything here and you do it so well that no one even notices. Now let's get on another subject. We'll come back to this after you have had time to consider it. When you feel like you're ready, we'll go and let the Ship talk to you. We're not losing our daughter. She might very well find her true calling."

Diana snuggled to her husband, the tears back. In a quiet voice, "Dammit, Jeff. I don't want her to grow up."

"Shhhh, Hon. She already has. She rides my cock and I suck her breasts – drink her milk. She swears she will be the first of my wives to have my baby. And we all know that the baby will be perfect, with Little One to make sure."

Diana chuckled past her tears. "Our daughter hasn't won that battle yet. I think the first one of us to have another of your babies might very well be me. Besides..."

But Jeff knew where her mind was going. "Hon, don't make her choose between this and being first to have my baby. That isn't fair."

"Ah, fuck," the Queen said. "I know it, but..." And the tears came in force.

Not knowing what else to do, the Prime just snuggled her to him and rubbed her back, letting her cry it out.

A few minutes later, the Queen sniffed, wiped her eyes one final time and sat up. "I need to talk to Helen."

-------

When Selina returned to the classroom, she had continued her assignment, but the problem with Billy kept returning to her mind. When the assignment was completed, she sat back, just staring at the wall as her mind worked furiously on the problem of her teleporting kitten. What Selina was not aware of was the phone conversation now going on between Diana and Helen.

When Helen left her office and stepped through the connecting door into the classroom, she found the six-year-old obviously in deep thought as she sat in one of the big chairs in a corner, her kitten on her lap, her laptop beside her on her worktable.

Helen knelt by Selina's seat, putting her hand on the child's leg. "Our Queen just talked to me," Boswell quietly said. "She is concerned that she may have hurt your feelings. She says she overreacted when Billy teleported into the kitchen, and she is worried that you are taking this too seriously, even though she has apologized to Billy."

But Selina was shaking her head, a frown creasing her child's brow. "No. No. My Queen did not err. She scolded Billy for teleporting onto the table and counter. She was concerned it could result in his depositing hair to contaminate our food."

"Still," Helen insisted, "she has just told me that she realized you groom your kitten twice a day and bathe him every few days. There is little chance of his hair getting into our food, and even if it did, there would certainly be no danger. Studies have shown that restaurant food, even from the best quality restaurants, occasionally contain animal and/or human hair in the food, in addition to more obnoxious things that I disdain to name. It might gross us out to think about foreign matter in our food, but those facts remain.

"Observing what we eat under a microscope is not conducive to a well-settled stomach when we realize what we really eat or drink. As you are well aware with your background, even the cleanest of drinking water, not to say anything about our food, is full of bacteria that are easily seen under a microscope. Hopefully the bacteria are all dead from the cooking process or in the case of water, the 'purification' process, but the FDA even allows a certain percentage of insect parts in commercially prepared food – and worse. One short hair isn't going to be noticeable, but our Queen is fastidious about our food preparation. She told me that upon their arrival here at the Retreat, she and Arlene spent a considerable length of time in cleaning an already-clean kitchen."

Helen took Selina's hand as she continued. "Diana is not mad at you or Billy. He just landed by the fruit she and Laura had prepared for our snack, and she instinctively reacted. Now, shall we get a bowl of fruit before it's all gone?"

Selina left Billy on the seat as she and Helen each took a bowl and heaped it with different types of cut up fruit. Back at her seat, Selina sat eating the fruit and thinking as Billy leaned over to smell the food in her lap. She picked up a piece of grapefruit with her fork, then bit off a tiny piece. Holding the small piece out to Billy, he smelled it and took a step backward.

Laughing at him, she commented as if he could understand her, "Carnivores miss out on a number of tasty foods. I realize that your body requires meat, but fruits and vegetables feature such a wide variety of flavors. It is unfortunate that you will not partake of a taste upon occasion."

"Mmeeow."

After their break, Selina assisted Arlene in returning the bowls to the kitchen. The six-year-old stopped by the kitchen door and told Billy to get down from her shoulder.

"Selina, Mom isn't going to scold you for Billy being on your shoulder while we put the dishes in the washer."

"Stay, Billy," Selina instructed her kitten.

"Mmeeow."

Amazing the little genius, Billy sat to bathe, apparently not interested in going back into the kitchen – at least for the moment.

Selina turned to Arlene. "I assume that you are correct, but it would be appropriate for Billy to remain in the hallway until I am able to teach him proper kitchen etiquette, and our Queen did emphasize that he was not to be in the kitchen."

Arlene pushed the door open with her back, holding it as the child entered with her stack of bowls. At the sink, Arlene rinsed the dishes and Selina put them in a washer. Adding detergent, Arlene started the washer and took Selina by the hand as they left the room.

Billy, much to Selina's pleasant surprise, was waiting in the hallway. She returned the kitten to her shoulder and looked over at the older girl, noticing the troubled look on Arlene's face. Selina reached out to touch Arlene's hand. "By your expression, I infer that I am not the only one who has concerns today. I realize there is an age difference that might forestall private communication on some subjects, but should you have the inclination to converse with someone, I would be amenable to attend."

Arlene smiled down at the child, again realizing that Selina's mind was far removed from the child's apparent age. "I appreciate the thought, and I might well do that at some time in the future, but at this point, I need to reason out some complicated changes, or possible changes, in my life." Arlene hesitated for a second, then went on, "Yeah. You're right. I will ask your advice, but not right now. Uh, Dad and I just had a talk with the Ship. I have to make some decisions, and I'm afraid that Mom isn't going to be pleased."

-------

Lunch was over and Diana again snuggled with her husband near the big window in the living room. "Why won't you just tell me?" a frustrated Queen asked, even though Jeff had already answered the question.

"She said she wanted to be the one to tell you about it – to discuss it with you."

"So, her mind is made up?"

"I didn't say that. If it is, she hasn't told me. I really think she wants to consider it for a time, then ask your opinion. Dammit, Di, she loves you – respects your opinion. Let her mull it over for a while. I'm almost certain she'll come to you before she makes a decision. We'll all..." But Jeff clamped down on his comment before it could escape. Not time yet,  he told himself.

-------

Because of the incident in the kitchen, Selina had decided to make a dedicated effort to train her kitten to stay on command. Almost from the beginning, her efforts to keep him in the kennel had proven unsuccessful because of his intelligence and ingenuity, and now that he could teleport, she had no way to restrict his movements. Thinking about it, she realized that some of his mysterious escapes from the bedroom had probably been the beginnings of his teleporting. He had obviously refined his art, and with the Ship supposedly adapting his ability so that he would not wind up as part of a solid object, she had been relieved that the danger had been alleviated. But ... he was a kitten – full of energy and curiosity, not to mention his seeming to have a sense of humor.

She had researched everything she could find on the net concerning cat training, with an emphasis on the stay command. Unfortunately, this didn't seem to apply to a teleporting cat, and she didn't want to bother any of the family to hold Billy while she tossed his favorite ball and repeated the stay command.

Preparing to try again, she stood in her bedroom looking at Billy as he sat in the middle of her bed. The look on his face communicated quite clearly what he thought of the whole process. "Stay, Billy," she said for the umpteenth time as she backed toward the bedroom door – yet again. This time, she managed to get through the door and partially into the sitting room without Billy immediately following her. Just before she pulled the door closed, however, there was a "Pop," from the bedroom and Billy almost instantly meowed from behind her.

"Billy, you have been instructed to remain on the bed," the little genius hissed out as she whirled to see her pet standing behind her in the sitting area. Shaking a finger at him, "You are cognizant of what I am attempting to teach you, yet you persistently disobey. This is extremely frustrating. I suspect you are enjoying yourself, but that will quickly reach its denouement," she fervently promised the kitten.

He is intelligent, and the Healer's enhancement has made him even more so. I am certain he understands. He quickly learned to maintain his position on my bed, as long as I am in the room. But he refuses to remain there when I go into the sitting area of the suite. The website mentioned that teaching a cat to stay would take from a few hours to months, depending on the cat. He understands my command, but does not wish to obey, instead, he decides to go with me. The smells in the kitchen will continue to attract him now that he has been there. He is certain to repeat the episode. Somehow, I must develop a method to restrain him and redirect his inclinations. He cannot be allowed to annoy our Queen.

"Once more," she grumped out as she reached to pick up her kitten again. Holding him in front of her face, her nose almost touching his, "You shall stay, and ... you shall refrain from entering the kitchen, or there will be dire consequences."

"Mmeeow," Billy responded to her as he began a loud purr, obviously enjoying himself, but Selina's patience was rapidly diminishing.

Inside her bedroom again, she put him in the center of her bed. "Stay!" she commanded.

"Pop," and Billy was gone.

Exasperated, Selina spun and ran from the room, but Billy wasn't in the sitting room this time. As she opened the main door to her suite, she saw him sitting in the middle of the hall, a paw lifted as he nonchalantly licked it – a gesture she was beginning to think had meaning beyond the simple mechanics of it.

"Billy,  my forbearance grows thin," she warned as she stomped toward him.

"Mmeeow?" he questioned as she neared.

"We are returning to our bedroom. You are going to learn to stay. Make no mistake about that."

As she reached down for Billy, "Pop," and the kitten was gone.

As Selina spun to look for him, she focused on the kitten well down the hallway to the left as he licked his paw, staring over it at his mistress. "Billy," she hissed out, her exasperation escalating a notch.

Billy sat waiting as his mistress jogged up, then just as she reached down for him, "Pop," and her hand swiped the now vacant air.

Selina stopped, her temper rising. "Billy,  this is not humorous," she ground out past gritted teeth.

She didn't see him in either direction, but the corner was only a few feet away. Walking around it, she saw him sitting in the middle of the hallway, gloating, she decided.

He obviously thinks this is a game. I shall alter my approach. This time, she walked calmly toward him, saying nothing.

She reached down as if she were going to pet him. Recognizing what she was doing, he stood, arching his back and lifting his tail. "Pop," and Selina's triumphant grasp closed on nothing.

Again, he was nowhere to be seen. Running back the way she had come, she rounded the corner to see him sitting in the hall about fifty feet away. "Billy," she snarled as she charged after him.

The kitten came to his feet, his tail now fluffed out to twice its normal size, his head high and his ears back. Near, the six-year-old dived for him. "Pop," her hands closed on air.

Muttering to herself, she came to her feet, rubbing the carpet burn on her right knee, her temper reaching heights that it hadn't achieved since she was two and tried a temper tantrum with her mother. That had been a true learning experience for the little genius, and an introduction to corporal punishment she had not realized her parents believed in. Lying in the middle of the floor, kicking her feet and yelling, produced a sore bottom and a view of a corner for an extended period of time. She still didn't like to think about the humiliation of her spanking and "time out."

She didn't know whether she could bring herself to spank her kitten, but he was certainly going to be verbally disciplined. She charged on down the hall, her focus totally on the kitten. She was the human. He was just a baby cat. No cat was going to make a fool of her. Having learned her lesson, she didn't dive at Billy this time, but tried to continue running full speed while reaching down to capture him.

"Pop," and he was down the hallway a lesser distance as she stumbled upright again, barely recovering.

A moment later, she was almost on him. "Pop," and he was down the hall yet again, but the distance was diminishing.

He is tiring,  she gloated, not realizing that her own breathing was beginning to be labored as she put everything she had into the effort of apprehending her wayward kitten.

Her temper had maxed out and her vision tunneled as she focused entirely on the kitten sitting before her. Again, she was almost on him as he came to his feet. I shall capture him this time, she thought just before her hand closed on empty air.

Frustrated beyond anything she could ever imagine, her mind and vision were totally dominated by the kitten sitting down the hall, each of his jumps a little less than the one before, but ... still he eluded her. He was beginning to pant, but his tail was still puffed out and his ears were back as they frequently were when he was playing or pretending. He was enjoying himself, still.

The chase went on, Billy now barely managing to stay ahead of Selina, her temper and focus beyond anything she had ever achieved. Her hand brushed his fur.

"Pop."

"Ka-POP."

Again, her hand was only inches from him, before, "Pop."

"Ka-POP." Her hand had almost grasped his tail.

She had no idea where they were. All she could see, all she could think of was catching him. She would catch him.

"Pop."

"Ka-POP." The hallway was empty.

Diana and Jeff snuggled in the living room, her head on his shoulder as Billy and Selina suddenly appeared before them in front of the big window.

By the time Jeff's and Diana's eyes focused on the two, Selina bent over the cat, there was a "Pop, Ka-POP," and Selina and Billy were gone, only to appear a few feet away as the kitten's energy reserves struggled to stay ahead of Selina.

"Oh, shiiittt," Jeff got out just before the two disappeared again.

The "Pop, Ka-POP," this time was followed by a triumphant yell from the little genius and a yowl from Billy as she pulled the kitten to her chest.

Diana and Jeff jumped to their feet, turning to stare at Selina and Billy a few feet away.

"I need to have a conversation with the Ship," the Prime grimly muttered. "Right damn now."



-------

Chapter 176

THE RETREAT

Once again, Jeff sat in the primary command chair of the Ship. The conversation between the Prime and the Ship happened in seconds and was mental, but it went something like this:

"You didn't tell me that you were going to teach Selina to teleport."

"Commander, I did not teach Selina to teleport ... I did, however, install the necessary fail-safes to keep her from materializing inside a solid object, should she learn to teleport. Since her animal could teleport, and because of her intelligence, I determined that the probability of Selina learning to teleport within the next ten cycles to be..."

"So you knew," the Prime interrupted. Jeff could swear the Ship was holding back a snigger.

"No, my Prime, I did not know. The probability did exist, however. Do you wish for me to install fail-safes in your mind as well?"

"Uh, no," Jeff stumbled out, taken aback. "Uh, at least not right now." He knew the Ship wasn't lying to him. He had accepted the kitten's teleporting as a fluke of nature influenced by the Healer's enhancement, but Selina, too? No way. That would be pushing coincidence too far. And what did the Ship mean about installing fail-safes in him? He didn't want to know right now.

When Jeff's mind merged with the Ship's, there was no possibility that she could lie to him – at least he didn't think there was – but he could feel an underlying ... smugness. She was amused by his memory of Selina chasing her kitten.

Before he realized he was doing it, "Does your question imply that you think I know how to do it, too?"

There was a hesitation from the Ship. She might not be able to lie to him, but Jeff felt she might be holding something back.

The Ship seemed at first to sidestep his question as she answered, "As we previously discussed, Primes have abilities other Alpha's do not possess. I prefer that you discover those abilities for yourself. I began the rudiments of your enhancement process in my birthplace under the mountain, but at that time you were a new and unknown species, and ... a Prime. Logic dictated that I should proceed slowly. Little One, as you refer to the Prime healer, has continued the enhancement process in the last few of your months. Your brain is continuing to grow new pathways that are both more efficient and much more variable than the originals. Remember, you are not the species that Little One and I were designed to care for, and the abilities your species once possessed have diminished significantly from their origins.

"The child's brain is, in many ways, significantly different from what appears to be the norm for your species. In addition to her intellect, she has an ... almost all-consuming drive to learn. She refers to this drive as curiosity. In addition, she has an ability to focus her intellect that is well beyond her age, at least as far as I am able to determine through my connections to your species' data bases. She also has attributes reminiscent of a Prime's. It will be interesting to observe her as she matures."

Jeff thought about pushing the Ship for details, but her thoughts came back before he could proceed. "I will, of course, answer your questions to the best of my ability, should you insist, but again, I believe it would be counterproductive at this point. You are becoming more and more aware of your capabilities, despite your continuing to have doubts that you are a Prime. I feel it is best to allow your brain to proceed at its own pace."

"I believe that circumstances..." Jeff began to deny yet again that he was anything special.

"You, your team and I would still be in my birth place under that mountain, if you were not a Prime. Unless you dictate it, I can not be commanded by anyone else. Even then, it would be a shallow command at best. We have already discussed those circumstances.

"Obviously, you are not the Prime I had been waiting for, but just as obviously, he was not coming. Because of that, I was able to accept you as my commander. Once that decision was made, it can not be changed. You are a Prime. You are my Prime, and therefore my Commander. Nothing will change that. There was no other Prime on that planet, nor am I aware of others on this planet. But even if there were, nothing would change the fact that you are my commander – nothing.

"Your mind is changing as emerging abilities are enhanced and some atrophied abilities redevelop. It is best we leave those processes to mature on their own.

"I am aware that your General and his technicians strive to understand the craft I reside in and am a part of, and I have allowed them some trivial information in return for my studies of them, but they are, at most, capable solely of a rudimentary understanding of my systems. Of course, they are not certain that I am studying them. However, several of the smarter ones suspect it.

"As much as they have tried, they have absolutely no understanding of how my shields function. Indeed, they are not even aware of my hull and equipment shields – instead, they think I am composed of some exotic material that defeats analysis and turns away their drills and lasers. To some slight degree, they are correct, at least concerning the makeup of my structure. But they will never circumvent the shields to even begin to examine what they think is probably some type of metal. They have no concept of how shields operate, let alone know anything of my primary war shields, and certainly not anything of my offensive weapons."

-------

When Jeff had walked out of the living room, Diana turned to Selina, who was still standing with her kitten clutched to her chest. "Are you okay?" the Queen asked.

"I am ... fine," Selina answered, the look of shock still on her face just before the tears started. As Diana took a step toward her, Selina turned and rushed out of the room.

When Diana walked out in the hallway to follow Selina, she met Arlene. "What's wrong with Selina, Mom? She's crying, but she just ran down the hall when I tried to ask her what was wrong."

Diana hesitated, then said, "I think she accidentally teleported in an effort to catch Billy. And I think your dad has decided that the Ship taught her how to teleport when she sat in one of the command chairs. At any rate, he's gone to talk to the Ship. I'm not exactly sure why Selina is upset. Maybe it's just the shock of realizing she teleported. She was aggravated with Billy for some reason. Please tell the others I may not be available to help prepare lunch. I think Selina needs someone to talk to just now."

That Selina had teleported got Arlene's full attention. "She teleported? Oh, crap. I'm jealous. Did you see her? Are you sure? How did she do it?"

But Diana was shaking her head. "I have no idea other than she must have been chasing Billy. I'll let you know what I find out, but I need to go and be with her now."

Arlene briefly hugged her mother. "We'll bring the two of you plates. Tell her we all love her."

Shortly, Diana knocked on the outside door of Selina's suite, but there was no answer. Letting herself in, she knocked on the bedroom door, then slowly pushed it open and went on in. Selina was lying on her side on the bed, her kitten tucked under her arms, the child silently crying.

Diana toed her shoes off, leaving hers beside Selina's, then slid into bed and snuggled the child to her, the kitten between them. There was a muffled "Mmeeow," from Billy as he worked his way from between the two, then crawled to Diana's shoulder, his tiny purr audible.

After just holding Selina for a while, the Queen kissed the six-year-old's forehead and quietly said, "You have done nothing wrong."

"But our Prime is angry with me," Selina whined.

"What?" the Queen said, pushing back a little to look into Selina's red and swollen eyes. "Whatever made you think that? He is not mad at you. You did nothing wrong," she repeated.

"But ... he stated he was going to talk to the Ship, and he said it in reference to my teleporting. It was instantly apparent that he assumed the Ship had taught me to teleport, and he was displeased in regard to that."

"So? That doesn't mean that he is mad at you. I'm sure he is concerned for your safety and wants to know why the Ship taught you to teleport without first asking his permission to do so."

"But the Ship did not teach me to teleport. I am not even certain I know how. I do not think..." But even before the words could form, she realized she did know how. All she had to do was ... She cancelled the thought before she could complete it.

"Selina?" the Queen said as she watched the expressions chase each other across the little genius' face.

Instantly, Selina sat up to look down at her Queen. "It is as if you had instructed yourself not to think of something. It would be impossible to refrain from it. I could return to the living room by mentally picturing it, but I must not do that or... KaPOP," and Selina was gone.

Diana sat up. "Oh, great." She had just stood, then stooped to pick up her shoes when Selina appeared beside her, the child's faced flushed as she rubbed her butt.

"I shall have to contemplate this," the child asserted. "I materialized in the living room ... sitting approximately two and one half feet above the floor. Then gravity exerted its normal influence. I am exceedingly thankful that floor is carpeted."

Selina sat back on the bed, looking up at Diana. "Are you certain that My Prime is not angry with me?"

Diana stepped over and hugged the six-year-old to her again. "Jeff is not that easy to anger, well not at us,  anyway. Someone who threatens us will receive his instant ire, though."

"Yes," Selina interrupted. "I was forced to observe the video at one tenth its normal speed in order to see My Prime's knife move through that man."

"You watched that in slow motion?" Diana got out.

"It was rather gory," Selina admitted. "Was that evidence of his anger? I could ascertain no observable reaction at all."

"Trust me. He was pissed. Look, Baby, Jeff isn't mad at you. He's just concerned because he loves you. However, it would probably be advisable to let him know that the Ship didn't teach you how to do this. I'm sure he is worried about the inherent dangers associated with your ability."

"I will quickly learn to control this new ability, My Queen. I do not wish to cause concern for you or our Prime."

Diana hugged Selina to her. "Jeff will be back soon. We'll see what he thinks."

There was a knock and the door opened. Arlene came in pushing a serving cart with Jeff following the young wife.

SHERIFF TATE'S HOME

Quinton Tate walked in the back door of his house. Since Virginia's car was gone, he knew his wife, sister-in-law and his nieces had already left for the Retreat. About ten last night, they had kissed him as they headed for bed, and Virginia reminded him they would not see him until the wedding. He had gone to the guest room as ordered, but he wasn't pleased with the situation. Having decided to eat at the diner, he had gotten up early this morning and left without seeing any of his women.

I haven't had any pussy since Sunday night,  he grumbled to himself. I was really getting used to Virginia and Elizabeth meeting me nude and on their knees at the back door when I come home from work. A great welcome home. Damn, that was sexy, but they all decided that our wedding night would be better if I had to wait a couple of days before having them again. I wonder whose big idea that was? Then, Virginia forbade me from jerking off. They keep forgetting that Little One has enhanced us. I've fought an erection all day at work and I feel like I have enough come built up to fill all four of them. Hell, maybe that's the idea. We haven't discussed kids. Surely they haven't decided to all have babies at the same time. Oh, shit. I need to think about something else.

After a moment, "All day," he snarled quietly. I had planned to get off at noon and take the rest of the week off as vacation. I certainly have enough of it built up, and I've worked enough extra hours that no one at the department would even think about complaining that I'm not doing my part. I would have made it out the door on the dot of noon if Maxwell hadn't stopped me in the hall to talk. Then that bitch came in to complain about her husband, two brothers and one of her sisters being arrested last night, and all of them being Tasered. I took her into my office and read the arrest reports to her, and pointed out that one of my deputies received a broken nose, and another a sprained back as he was pushed down the front porch steps.

The bitch got louder and louder, then came across my desk after me. It must run in the damn family. Well, at least she now knows what the others felt like when my deputies Tasered them. That whole fucking family is nuts. My Taser damn sure changed her attitude, though. Then I had to spend more time booking the bitch, writing up the incident and filling out an arrest report. I should have taken the whole day off and not gone in at all.

Unconsciously shaking his head, I need to forget all that crap. I'm marrying my sister-in-law and my nieces today. Well, actually, I'm remarrying my wife as well. I guess I won't be able to bitch any longer about Virginia and Elizabeth having made love to each other, and Virginia basically cutting me off during that time. But Elizabeth was mourning her husband's death, and Virginia was consoling her the only way she knew how. But I'm still a little pissed at Virginia for basically cutting my sex off while she made love to her sister during that time. Shit, all that's behind us. I need to forget about it. All marriages have a bump now and then. I sure can't complain about the way Virginia and Elizabeth treat me now, not to mention the girls. If it hadn't been for Jeff's Healer, the four of them would have fucked me to death by now.

He noticed the note on the kitchen table.

Hi Baby;

We're sorry you had to work over, but we tried to make things easier on you when you do manage to get home. You can shower and change at the Retreat. All your clothes are in the SUV. I talked to Diana and she has a suite ready for us – well, actually two suites. Ours will be on the second floor, so you won't see us until the wedding.

We filled the feeders for the horses, and Clark is going to check on them every day, so we're good through Sunday night if we decide to stay at the Retreat. Diana was very emphatic that we stay, but we'll do whatever you think best. We packed clothes for all of us, just in case. That place is awfully pretty, so if you want to spend our honeymoon there, we're all ready.

We all love you. See you when we walk down the aisle.

Love, Virginia, Elizabeth, Rachel and Cindy

P.S. Rachel says, "Don't waste any of that good stuff."

Smiling, he picked up a couple of apples and cut them into chunks. Going out the back, he whistled for the horses. When they came to the fence, he gave each horse a piece as he petted them. A few minutes later, he kicked the snow off the tread of his boots and got in the SUV, looked around at their home for a moment, then started for Matthews Mountain and the women he loved.

THE STEEL ERECTION COMPANY

The crews had gathered in the yard to hear Lee's announcement about the sale of the company, and were happy to hear the new company manager tell them that the new owner had assured him that everyone's job would be safe and the company would continue as before. Then, to Jeremy's embarrassment, Lee called Jeremy to come up front. Putting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder, Lee continued to the group, "I talked with the new owner and he tells me that Mr. Jackson is going to maintain ten percent ownership of the company and will be available as a consultant. In other words, I'll still have him to lean on until I get my feet under me. But ... we would all have been out of work shortly if it had not been for Jeremy's determination to find a solution to our problem..."

Jeremy spoke up, "Denise and Connie had just as much to do with it as I did. It was really their idea that we try to find someone to purchase the company rather than let our competitor buy us out."

Later, after congratulations, joking comments, backslaps and handshakes, the crews began to leave for the day. "Need to talk with the three of you," Lee said.

"We have something to ask you, also," Jeremy commented as Lee held the outer door of the building open for all of them to enter.

A few moments later as they were all seated in Lee's office, the new manager began. "I talked with Mr. Matthews, and he very politely asked if the three of you could be off, starting tomorrow. Asked,  instead of just telling me. I think I'm going to like this guy. Anyway, you three are off for two weeks, plus tomorrow and Friday."

Lee seemed uncomfortable for a moment, then, "Look, I don't know how you three got in so good with this guy, but I ... want to thank you. He said that you asked that I be allowed to continue to run the company. I know that Mr. Jackson recommended me, but well, Mr. Matthews said your recommendation weighed in heavily, also, and he meant all three of you. I just..."

"We're not going to be prima donnas," Denise said, "so don't worry about that. We just want a place to work so we can save for college."

"I thought it was Jeremy who was doing that."

"We're with Jeremy now. We're going to be married," Connie said before she thought. "He's talked us into getting an education, too."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Married? As in all three of you?"

"Nothing illegal." Jeremy insisted. "We're having a ceremony, but there isn't a marriage license or anything like that. But we'll be married, nonetheless. We would appreciate it, though, if everyone here just continued to think we're living together. We'll all be wearing wedding rings, but we had rather just let everyone wonder. We're not going to flaunt things, and the way rumor travels in the company, most everyone already knows we're living together."

"Well, I guess congratulations are in order. So this time off is going to be your honeymoon, then?"

Jeremy, Denise and Connie looked at each other, the two women blushing. "We've been invited to honeymoon at the Matthews' Retreat. We can't afford to go anywhere, since we're saving every cent we can for college. But the place is beautiful ... They call it Matthews Mountain. There's plenty to do there, too."

Lee couldn't help grinning. "Oh, I suspect there will definitely be things to do on your honeymoon," he laughed.

"There is that," Jeremy agreed with a chuckle, while Denise and Connie blushed.

"Jeremy," Denise said, elbowing him.

After the laughter, "You do know that the three of you being off for a couple weeks at the same time will be all the ammunition the rumor mill will need, don't you? So be prepared for some ribbing when you get back."

They all stood and Jeremy and Lee shook hands. "Oh, we expect that, and it won't be a problem. But Thanks, Lee. We really appreciate the time off. I hope this won't run you short."

"Don't worry about it. But could I hug the brides before you go?"

Laughing, Denise and Connie hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Now get out of here," Lee said with a chuckle. "I have things to do before I head for home. A lot of things to do."

In the pickup, Jeremy started the vehicle and turned to his women. "We need to get cleaned up and find a jewelry store for our rings."

"No," Connie said. "We talked to Diana. She will measure us tonight or tomorrow morning and call the sizes in. She suggested matching gold bands, if that's all right with you."

"As long as I get one, I don't care what it looks like," he laughed, putting the truck into gear. "So we go home, get cleaned up, eat, change vehicles and go get Paulette?"

"Your mom said she would have something waiting for us when we got there. I tried to tell her we could eat at home, but she was adamant," Denise said.

"You think it's all right to go on up to the Retreat tonight? I mean; they're having a wedding and all."

Denise reached over to touch Jeremy's hand. "I really think Diana would be disappointed if we didn't show up tonight. She wants to meet Paulette."

"I guess we need to pack our clothes..."

Denise and Connie giggled.

"Oh, you've already done that," Jeremy guessed. "Mine too?"

"Of course," they chorused.

Connie finished with, "You're going to be our husband soon," as if that explained everything.

Jeremy wasn't sure he knew what she meant, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

THE RETREAT

As the last rays of the setting sun gradually faded behind the mountain, Sheriff Quinton Tate, Virginia, Elizabeth, Rachel and Cindy stood before the Prime and his Queen. When Jeff and Diana declared the family husband and wives, a shiver ran through the group as they felt the bond form.

Later, at the reception, Quinton got Jeff aside for a moment. "You didn't tell me that would happen. Now I know what Art was talking about. You've told me about the bond you feel with your wives, but I never expected it to be quite like that. I thought you were just talking about a feeling of love..."

"It came about with us over a much longer period of time; somehow, things are happening differently now. Well, at an increased rate, anyhow."

"You felt it too, both you and Diana?"

Jeff gave out a little chuckle. "Yep, and if your women haven't already developed the talent, they'll have it now."

"What talent?" Quinton asked, already pretty sure what Jeff was talking about.

"The thing about them knowing where you are, or at least in what direction you are."

"I think Virginia has already been able to do it for a little while. Now the rest of them will?"

"You'll also find it's easier to trip their orgasm switch now," Jeff added. "The bond gives you a stronger link. You're going to find that your love making will also be more intense, now that you're married."

"Come on," Cindy said as she and Rachel walked up and put an arm around their husband from either side, "it's almost time to go."

" ... to a fate worse than death," Quinton added to her comment as he chuckled. Then "Ouch,  that hurts," as both girls pinched him in his sides.

"I think women learn how to do that in their mother's womb," Jeff said with a laugh. "They know where the most tender place on our bodies is and make full use of it."

As the girls dragged the Sheriff away for some last-minute pictures, Diana came over to hug Jeff. "Elizabeth is ecstatic that she's married again, not to say anything about Rachel and Cindy, other than their smiles are about to crack their faces. And Virginia is just glowing." Turning serious, she continued, "Don't you ever leave us. I couldn't stand it, and that probably goes for all your wives."

Jeff tilted his Queen's face upward in order to kiss her. "What brought that on? I intend for our family to live a long, long time. Now, lets find those little bags of rice. I want to get in a good shot at Quinton as they go out the door."

But Diana put her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry I let Jack fuck Arlene and me. I'll always remember that I let you down."

"Hush, Woman. Little One didn't know her enhancements would affect the two of you that much. All that's behind us. I'm the happiest man alive."

"If you are, Quinton is in there for a close second," the Queen said as she nodded to the newlyweds preparing to leave for the honeymoon suite.

Sheriff Tate and his new brides had tried to move unobtrusively toward the door. Suddenly they all hurried out, looking over their shoulders trying to avoid the rice. But Arlene, Ann, Jennie and Melissa were waiting for them just outside the dining room. While Jennie and Melissa distracted him, Ann jumped astraddle Quinton's back and pulled his collar open. Arlene was there with a big handful of rice.

The newlyweds ran down the hall toward the honeymoon suite, Tate trying to get the rice out of his collar, everyone laughing, even Tate.

ADRIANA AND VAN'S HOME

Adriana and Paulette were finishing up dinner and had been talking about Jeremy's wedding. Adriana had noticed the look on Paulette's face every time either of them mentioned anything about the wedding.

Surprising Paulette, Adriana hugged her daughter. "It will happen soon enough, and Van and I will be alone again. I had hoped I would have you longer, but I married young and ... I loved my brother at your age. I wasn't much older than you when Van and I first made love. Make no mistake about it, we made love; we didn't just fuck."

"Mother," Paulette said, dragging out the word, "you're embarrassing me."

Adriana stepped back to hold her daughter at arm's length and smile at her. "Keep your nose clean and your grades up. I'll work on your dad. No whining or bitching. If he sees that you're an adult, he'll give in soon enough."

Paulette grabbed her mother in a fierce hug. "Oh, Mom, I'll do my best. I love Jeremy so much. It almost killed me when he left home to go to that job, and ... it's even worse now. But I'll get to be with them part of the time tonight and tomorrow."

"Set the table," Adriana said. "I'll finish up with the food. And you remember, this is Connie and Denise's special time. Don't try to dominate your brother's every action. They'll notice the courtesy and return the favor when it will be your turn to wear a wedding dress."

Paulette got a stack of plates from the cabinet. After putting them out, she turned back to her mother. "Mom?"

"Yes, Baby."

"I love you and Daddy so much. I have the best parents in the world. I'll shut my mouth and wait until you tell me I'm old enough."

Adriana blinked back tears. My last baby is almost grown. I'm too young to have an empty nest. It's going to be awfully lonesome around here when she leaves. Awfully lonesome. And now she's gotten smart and put the decision on me. Darn it, I was barely fifteen when I gave my virginity to Van. How can I tell her she has to wait until she's eighteen, or even sixteen? If Van and I weren't brother and sister, I would have another child, but I don't dare. We've rolled the dice twice and had great kids, but if something went wrong I would never forgive myself. Maybe I just need a good cry.



-------

Chapter 177

Quinton Tate stood in front of the honeymoon suite, his women close around him as they all waved to the people down the hall.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Jeff called out.

For some reason, Tate's wives thought the cliché was hilarious, and choking back her laughter, Elizabeth called out, "We're going to test that out in a few minutes."

Tate was sure everyone could see his blush even at that distance. He tossed Virginia over one shoulder, then with a laughing Elizabeth over the other, pushed the door fully open, walked into the suite and sat the women on the couch. Back in the hallway, he lifted his two nieces to his shoulders, spun around to hear them squeal, then carried them inside the suite, pushing the door closed with his foot.

"Be back for you two in a minute," he told Elizabeth and Virginia as he continued on into the bedroom with the giggling girls. Returning to the sitting room a moment later, he bent forward as the sisters leaned across his shoulders to facilitate his picking them up, everyone laughing or giggling.

In the bedroom, "Oh, my," Rachel said as she and Cindy noticed the ceiling mirror above the bed at the same time.

Virginia and Elizabeth paused to look up at the mirror as they were removing their wedding dresses. "I've always wanted to know what his ass looks like when he's pumping his sperm into me," Virginia said. "I've seen him while he's doing it to you, but I think it will be hot seeing him as he's doing it to me."

"Yeah," Cindy giggled, "the muscles in his hips sort of flex and his balls tighten up against his cock. It makes me hot just to think about it. Now we'll all get to see it when he comes in us."

Quinton couldn't understand why they would want to look at his ass at any time, let alone while he was getting his rocks off, but he hoped he could see their pussies to some extent while he came in them. The mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed should give him a view at times if he could manage to keep his wits about him enough to try and look behind himself while he was coming. Fat chance of that happening,  he thought as he almost laughed out loud.

All four women began trying to undress him while Quinton attempted to help them with their clothing. Finally, Virginia intervened with, "Stop, Quinton. We don't need any help, and you're just delaying us." Once he quit trying to help them out of their clothes, they had him nude in seconds and themselves shortly after.

"That thing never ceases to make my stomach flutter every time I see it," Virginia said in a hushed voice as she knelt in front of Tate. Grasping his already rock hard cock, she smiled up at him.

"Glad you like it, My Love. I swear it feels like I could come for five minutes," he said as he looked down at his wife. "Not having any pussy since Sunday night, then after drinking that shake, I had to fight all the way through the wedding to keep my dick from going to full mast."

"It sure looks good now," Rachel commented as she sank to her knees beside her aunt.

Virginia licked a big dollop of pre-come off the head of his cock while continuing to look up at Quinton. "Oh, my. The smell and taste of your pre-come makes me hot, but we all promised Rachel she could be your first after the wedding."

"I don't care who. I leave that up to my wives," Quinton said, "but I need my cock in somebody."

Rachel didn't pay any attention to him, but licked the head of his cock, just as Virginia had. Quinton reached down and lifted the nude girl into his arms, then gently laid her on the bed. As he slid between her legs and began to kiss her pussy, Rachel shook her head. "Inside me," she gasped out. "Inside me," she repeated as she pulled his head away from her pussy. "Come up here and make love to me. I'm your wife now. I want you to come inside me."

Virginia rubbed her hand gently over his ass. "Each of us, Husband," she said. "We've been talking. We want you to consummate our marriage first, afterward, you can kiss our pussies and nurse our breasts to your heart's content while we suck on that beautiful cock," she finished with a giggle.

"Take me, Husband," Rachel whined. "Pump me full of your sperm. I couldn't be any more ready if you kissed my pussy all night. I'm so hot that..."

And Quinton pushed. Rachel sucked in a breath as his cock eased into her wet pussy. When he bottomed out, she thrashed beneath him for a few seconds as a climax roared through her body, then her legs locked around his hips.

"Come in her, Quint," Virginia said. "We all want your sperm. Come just as soon as you can. Make all of us your women."

Tate's plan of gently making love to each of his wives, starting with Virginia, suddenly went out the window. Rachel was rubbing her cervix on the head of his cock as if she were possessed. "Do me. Do me," she chanted as he pulled back halfway and shoved in hard. As he held in her, "No. No. Don't stop. Move now. Pump me full. I'll come again when I feel your sperm squirt into me."

I'll never understand women,  the big man thought as he gave in to the inevitable and did what his wives wanted. Concentrating, he thrust his cock into the lovely teenager, his every stroke pushing against Rachel's womb as she used her leg muscles to thrust her pussy up to meet him.

"Come. Come. Come," she chanted as her internal muscles clamped down to the point that he was afraid he would tear something inside her. She threw her head back and screamed as her pussy spasmed about his cock. He was coming before he realized he was close. He came so hard it actually hurt as his hips bucked short strokes into her, her wail of release in his left ear making the ear ring. A groan from deep in his chest accompanied Rachel's howls as she felt his seed spurt into her; her legs pulled hard against his hips as she ground her groin against his, offering her womb for filling.

She clung to him, shivering as his cock pulsed seed into her. Her legs released his hips and slammed to the bed as she pushed her feet back into the mattress to get leverage to lift her pussy high. Shivering, she wailed once more and collapsed. After a moment, she took a ragged breath, but it was evident she was out.

After holding himself inside Rachel for a few minutes, Tate rolled to his back, his cock still hard. Cindy quickly straddled him as her mother guided Quinton's cock to Cindy's entrance. Quinton barely got his hands on her hips before she tried to drop on him. "Easy, Sweetheart, easy," he said as he slowed her descent.

"I want some, too," she whimpered as she squirmed her pussy around on his cock. He held her in place as he took over, his strokes slow and strong. After she had three orgasms almost back to back, he rolled them over, his strokes now faster. Cindy set up a near-constant whimper, her legs and arms locked around her brand-new husband. "Come. Come. Come," she chanted just as her sister had. And he did.

A LITTLE EARLIER AT THE CARTER RESIDENCE

Adriana, Paulette, Connie and Denise were in Paulette's bedroom on the farm as time drew near for the trip to the Retreat.

"Oh, I hope I haven't forgotten anything," Paulette worried, then, "I've never been around rich people before. I'm so gonna feel like a country bumpkin."

Adriana smiled at her daughter's nervousness. "I'm sure you'll do just fine. Diana seemed really nice on the phone. She said they would provide cold weather gear should you decide to go skiing or snowmobiling, and that you could wear shorts or jeans in the building – whatever was comfortable for you. You're invited to the other wedding tomorrow night, and if you decide to attend, you have two nice dresses in the hanging bags there to choose from," she said, nodding toward the clothes. "You will have your bridesmaids dress tomorrow for Friday night. We've triple checked everything, so you're set. Van and I will be up for breakfast in the morning, and we'll see you then. Now, let's get your stuff in the pickup before Jeremy comes in here and drags you out the door."

Denise grabbed Paulette's hanging things and Connie got her bag as Denise said, "If you think you're nervous, what about Connie and me? We're getting married. And not just that, but we're going to be married by people we hardly know, then if we do what they suggest, we're going to be living with them for a week or two. I'm having a hard time believing we're doing this, but somehow it just felt right when they asked us to be married there and stay with them for a couple weeks. Sometimes, when I think about all that's going to happen, I can hardly breathe."

"Same here," Connie added, "but they made us feel so welcome. The place is luxury to the extreme, but the Matthews and the others there treated us like family. They even called us family. I'd be amazed if you aren't just as pleased with them as we are."

"Ladies," Jeremy called from the living room, dragging out the word, "we have to drive to Winter Park, then up that mountain. We need to be moving."

"Men," Denise said, but she was smiling when she said it.

"Yeah," Connie agreed, "but he's very shortly going to be our man – forever."

"Mine too. One of these days," Paulette said, then quietly added, "I hope."

Where Paulette couldn't see, Adriana winked at Denise and Connie.

-------

The trip up the mountain in the dark was disappointing for Paulette, since she wanted to see the scenery. All she really got to see was a big ridge of snow that the snowplows had thrown up alongside the road, and a few trees that were briefly lit under the headlights, plus an impression that they had climbed a long way.

"You'll get to see it in the morning," Jeremy assured her.

As they turned into the Matthews' driveway, they stopped while Security checked their vehicle. Although it was a different guard today, he called them by name, then as he turned to Paulette, "Ah, Ma'am, and your name, please?" he politely questioned.

"Paulette Carter," the teenager answered.

"Paulette Carter," Security repeated as he updated the database with her picture and name, none of the group realizing what his helmet was doing.

Paulette put her face against the side window of the extended cab pickup as she strained to look up the lighted driveway that seemed to go up the cliff face forever. "We're going up that?" she gasped out.

"Yep," Jeremy said as Security waved them on and the barrier rose. "Wait until you see the view from the living room."

Paulette took another look at the driveway on the cliff face and decided she needed to rest her eyes. Closing them and sliding down in her seat, she tried to not listen as the motor strained to take them to the top of the drive.

Jeremy smiled as he looked at the image of his sister in the mirror, knowing that she had closed her eyes to keep from seeing the drive, or more accurately, the drop next to the drive.

A few minutes later, they parked in the back. As they were getting out of the pickup, the door of the Retreat opened and Arlene, Nat, Nicki and Whitney rushed out to help with the luggage.

"We're a little later than I anticipated," Jeremy started.

"No problem," Arlene said. "Your timing couldn't be any better. The wedding and reception are over and the newlyweds are in the honeymoon suite, the same one you will be using Friday night."

"But we could have come up Friday just before the wedding is scheduled and wouldn't have put you to all this trouble."

Arlene and her sister-wives had grabbed a bag each. She turned to stare at Jeremy. "Nope. The fitting is in the morning, and besides, this is your home, too. Daddy wasn't kidding when he told you that. And that goes for your women, too. Also, we need to get the three of you measured for wedding bands so Mom can call your sizes in to the jewelry store. She knows the owner and he's waiting for her call. Now who is this?" she said as Paulette got out of the pickup.

"This is my sister, Paulette. Paulette, this is Arlene, but I, uh, don't remember..."

"We're all Jeff's wives," Arlene said. "This is Nat, Nicki and Whitney," she finished, nodding to each girl in turn.

"It's true then," Paulette said, "Mr. Matthews actually has fourteen wives?"

"Sure does," Nicki answered. "Fourteen very happy wives."

"And you're how old?" Paulette asked as they all started for the door.

"All four of us are sixteen," the four answered simultaneously, astonishing Jeremy and the others.

"Sorry," Arlene said as she held the door to the mudroom open for them. "We tend to do that a lot. We'll talk about that later when we have more time," and Paulette is blocked,  Arlene mentally added.

"Uh, okay."

Inside, they stopped by the living room, where cleanup was almost done. When the introductions were finally over, "That's all of us except for Joyce," Arlene said. "She's at work now, but you can meet her at breakfast."

Denise and Connie had already told Diana they had been sleeping in the same bed with Jeremy, and they wished to do so tonight as well, but tomorrow night, he would sleep alone.

A few minutes later on the second floor, Arlene opened the door to a double suite. Turning to Jeremy, "We'll move you to the first floor tomorrow. You can't be with your brides the night before the wedding."

"Yeah," Jeremy sighed, "I know the tradition."

"It will be worth it," Whitney said, forcing back a giggle. "Jeff doesn't like it either."

"Yeah," Nat chimed in, "we did our best to try and kill him, but it didn't quite work out that way. It was us that could barely walk the next morning."

Arlene loudly cleared her throat, her eyes turning toward Paulette, but the girl giggled along with the others, then put her hand on Arlene's shoulder for a second. "Yeah, I'm a virgin, but remember, I live on a farm. Mom says I asked her what the bull was doing to the cow when I was four – and she told me. Well, at least in language a four-year-old could understand. Making a baby calf, or something like that. And one of these days, I'm going to be Jeremy's wife, just like Connie and Denise, or at least I hope to be, if Jeremy will have me."

Jeremy almost scolded her before he remembered telling Paulette she didn't have to keep secrets from the Matthews.

"I'm just waiting for you to be old enough," he said, hugging her.

Arlene grabbed Paulette's hand and pulled her toward one of the bedrooms. Inside, they started unpacking Paulette's things. "Oh, those are pretty," Arlene said as she opened the closet door for Paulette to hang her dresses.

"Thanks. Uh, did I mess up when I said that about my brother?" Paulette quietly asked.

Arlene giggled. "Not around here, you didn't. You do know that Jeff is also my father, in addition to being my husband, don't you?"

"Yes," Paulette said, as she put her bag on the bed to open it. "Jeremy told me on the way up, but other than that, he's been really secretive about you guys."

"So you want to marry your brother? What do your mom and dad think about that? Do they know?"

Paulette pulled a dresser drawer open and put her panties and bras in it. As she turned to pull more items from her bag, Arlene handed her two casual tops from the case. "Yeah, they know. And ... I think they're okay with it, but they say I'm too young yet."

"So, how long are they going to make you wait?"

Paulette put the tops in another drawer, then accepted her jeans from the young Queen before continuing. "I ... don't know. I guess the best I can hope for is sixteen. Surely, they won't make me wait until I'm eighteen. But ... whining about it won't change it, well, other than probably causing me to have to wait longer. I told Mom that I would leave the decision up to her. She got married young, so maybe she'll let me marry young, at least that's my strategy."

"You really love him, then?"

"So much that I cry every time he leaves to go back to his apartment – well to Denise's house now, I guess. I know that you aren't supposed to love your brother that way, but I've loved him for as long as I can remember."

"And Denise and Connie are okay with your being another wife one day?"

Paulette sat on the side of the bed, interlocking her fingers in her lap. "They say they are, and I really like them. I'm just a kid, I guess, at least to them. But I'm growing up fast, and they've treated me really nice. I've talked to Mom about my taking over the cooking – oh, not right now, but gradually as I learn more. I can cook simple things, but Mom said she would make a concerted effort to teach me the things a wife needs to know, and Connie and Denise said they would help. But I want to be with him sooo bad."

When Paulette finished putting her things away, Arlene took the empty case and put it in the closet. Turning back to Paulette, the young wife said, "I have loved my dad ever since I can remember. Oh, I know a lot of girls have a crush on their fathers, but I think my feelings for him have always been more than that. We ... uh, had some problems in Georgia where we lived before, but after we came out here, I, uh, realized that I didn't have to look somewhere else for a mate. Things happened, and I wound up virtually raping him. It was pretty much touch and go there for a while, but Mom was on my side, and we finally managed to persuade him. The bad things in my life are essentially a faint memory now, even though it's only been a few months. I have the most wonderful husband in the world. There have been so many good times to make up for the bad, that I just don't worry about what happened in Georgia any longer. If you love your brother, don't give up just because some outdated law calls it incest. Hang in there until he's your mate. The wait will be worth it."

Paulette badly wanted to tell Arlene about her mother and father being brother and sister, but she knew she couldn't.

The bedroom door opened and Connie stuck her head in. "Come on. Diana wants to meet us in the living room and take our ring measurements."

-------

Near midnight, Jeremy lay in bed, Connie and Denise snuggled against him, each woman with a hand under his tee shirt absently stroking him. "You sure your mom and dad know that breakfast is at six?" Connie asked, her hand reaching out to capture Denise's as it snuck toward Jeremy's shorts.

"Yeah, they know. Heck they usually eat at five. They'll be here in plenty of time. What are you worried about?"

"Well," Connie replied, "I guess it's just that I thought that all rich people slept late."

"Well, these don't. Jeff said they made a pact to maintain as much of a normal lifestyle as they could. He works on his invention and the women do most of the cleaning. He said they used to have a cleaning crew come in a couple of times a week to do the heavy stuff, but after the Matthews were attacked by a fake cleaning crew, the men took over stripping the kitchen and dining room floors when they need it, and running the big polisher. The women do most of the other cleaning, but the men aren't exempt from helping. The women do all the cooking."

"I guess the things I see on TV about the wealthy don't have a lot to do with the Matthews," Connie conceded. "Did Jeff say anything to you about our 'finder's fee' that he talked about on the phone?"

"I purposely didn't ask him about it, but he brought it up. He just said that we shouldn't think about anything but the wedding right now, but to just know that we were all three covered for college, and wouldn't have to work if we didn't want to. Did Diana say anything?"

"About the same. She said she wouldn't go into any details to distract us from what was happening, but for us to be assured that we would be pleased."

They were quiet for a moment before Connie went on, "Baby, surely they aren't planning for the finder's fee being enough to put all three of us through college?"

"It sure sounded that way," Denise added.

"Hush," Jeremy quietly said as he kissed first one, then the other of his women. "They said to think only about our wedding, and forget about money for the time being."

"I can do that," Denise said with a giggle. "I want to suck your cock. We know you aren't going to have penetration sex with us until we're married, but we could take a little of the edge off..."

Jeremy caught her straying hand like Connie had done a moment ago. "I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but no. I've waited this long to make love to my beautiful women, but if you two put your mouths on me now, I don't know if I could hold off until Friday. Let's just go to sleep."

"Set the alarm for 5:15," Denise said with a sigh. "We need to make sure we're up in time to help with the cooking. If these rich people do everything for themselves, we can't not do our part."

Jeremy kissed Connie, then Denise, turned the lights down and snuggled his women to him. The long day was finally over and the three were shortly dreaming.

In the other bedroom, Paulette's fingers caressed her clit as she approached yet another orgasm, her mind focused on her brother.

-------

Selina had set her internal alarm for midnight. When she awakened, she brought the room lights up just enough to be able to see how to get out of bed. As she carefully moved the sheet off her, Billy opened sleepy eyes. "Mmeeow?"

"Stay, Billy," she whispered. Amazing her, his eyes drifted closed.

As quietly as she could, she gathered her clothing and went into the sitting room to dress. Still no Billy. Relieved and hoping, she left, silently closing the hallway door behind her. The hall lights were lowered, but there was still plenty of light to see by as she jogged toward the basement door.

She hissed in a breath as the door clicked loudly shut despite her efforts to be silent. At the bottom of the stairs, she was tempted to check out Jeff's office and lab. I promised My Prime I wouldn't,  she remembered. He used my intelligence against me,  she thought, irritated. Now, I'm honor bound to abide by it. I shall remember this for future reference. It is time to begin my research.

She found the basement light switches and brought the whole area up to full brightness. My Prime cannot teleport, but his suggestion of building a mental wall around my thoughts concerning teleporting seems to have worked. Now, all I have to do is open the mental door and... 

"Ka-POP, " instantly, she was halfway down the length of the basement, directly in front of the range door. Startled, she gasped in a breath. This is not acceptable. I was unprepared and had formed no destination image. Apparently I move toward where my eyes happen to be focused. I shall exert control over this. I previously materialized two and one half feet above the floor, which was extremely embarrassing. Although, fortunately, no one observed my escapade. But what of ten feet, or thirty? Such an error could have fatal consequences. I must focus my destination thoughts prior to unlocking this mental door.

Selina focused on a spot near the far wall. Carefully, she opened the mental door as she concentrated. "Ka-POP," and she stood in the location she had pictured.

My destination was not visible when I pursued Billy into the living room, nor when Diana and I were conversing and I disembarked to the living room, nor the final episode of my return to my bedroom. My Prime informed me that the Ship had installed a failsafe to prevent materialization inside a solid object. However, it seems obvious that this new ability could be fraught with additional unsuspected dangers, not withstanding the failsafe. I shall proceed carefully.

Hmmm, I should memorize several locations about the Retreat. Perhaps, I should concentrate on those locations or areas where there is little likelihood of another person occupying that precise position. Or should I simply trust the Ship's failsafe to prevent my materializing in an occupied space? Until I achieve proficiency with this new ability, I shall err on the side of safety.

"Ka-POP." Oh, in addition to pertinent research, this is astoundingly humorous.

"Ka-POP. Ka-POP. Ka-POP. Ka-POP. Ka-POP. Ka-POP." Selina snapped from one end of the basement to the other – much longer distances than Billy had managed in the hallway. On her last jump, she thought of the weight room and materialized in there.

Suddenly, fatigue hit her – a lot of fatigue.

"Oh," she uttered aloud as she sank to her knees. Exhausted, she was dizzy and her eyes seemed to see clearly only directly in front of her. Is this tunnel vision?

She came wobbly to her feet to get off the cool floor. Taking a few staggering steps, she stretched out on a nearby weight bench to rest. Before she realized what was happening, she was sound asleep.



-------

Chapter 178

THE RETREAT, EARLY THURSDAY MORNING

Selina awakened an hour later. Sitting up on the weight bench and swinging around to put her feet on the floor, she paused to take stock of herself. No wonder Billy remained in bed when I arose. Quite conceivably, he is as fatigued as I am as the result of our escapades. I should return to my bed. She thought of her bedroom and opened the mental door to her ability to teleport. It was like pulling the scab off a partially healed wound. I misjudged that,  she thought as she, with a shiver, quickly slammed the mental door closed.

Coming cautiously to her feet, she decided she could walk, but when she reached the basement stairs, she used the handrail to help pull her tired body up the steps. At the top, she was out of breath and wanted badly to sit down. I'm ravenous. I shall stop by the kitchen and assuage my hunger.

As she made the turn where Arlene had killed the mercenary, Selina stopped to lean against the wall for a moment. After a bit, she continued on. It seemed to take forever to reach the kitchen. She had never been this tired in her short life. Inside, she pushed a chair over to stand on to reach the cup rack. The glasses were higher, so she just took the first thing she could reach, which happened to be a large coffee mug. Putting the mug on the table, she went to get milk from one of the refrigerators. Thankful that a jug was only half full, she lugged it back to the table, then went to get two chicken breasts that had been left over from dinner. Shortly, she was seated on her chair with the cushion to make her tall enough to eat comfortably at the table.

Two chicken breasts and two cups of milk later, she pushed her empty plate aside and put her head down on the table. I shall rest for a moment, then return to my suite.

-------

At 5:30, Diana and the rest of Jeff's wives walked into the kitchen to find Selina sitting face down on the table, deeply asleep. "Looks like somebody got really, really sleepy after a snack," the Queen said with a chuckle.

Diana slid Selina's chair out a little, then stood back up with the child in her arms. The six-year-old awakened enough to mumble something. "Shhhh," Diana cooed as she kissed the child's face, "just go back to sleep. I'll put you in your bed."

"But I do not..." Selina mumbled.

"Shhhh," the Queen repeated as she turned toward the kitchen door that Arlene was already holding open for her. "You'll be in your bed in no time. Just go back to sleep," she whispered.

-------

Van and Adriana began the climb up the driveway, both focusing on the roadway in front of them, neither of them admitting they didn't want to look toward the outside of the drive and the drop just beyond the railing.

Van broke the silence inside the pickup with, "That guard was sharp – really sharp. Something is going on we don't know about."

"You mean his knowing our names? I'm sure the Matthews..."

" ... told him we were coming," he finished for her. "But I ... just think there's more to it than that. He was standing there waiting for us. He knew we were coming."

"You mean, other than hearing us? I'm sure the sounds of our truck climbing this mountain carried very well up here in all this isolation."

"Look," Van said, pointing as they glimpsed the still-lit Retreat from one of the switchbacks, the dawn just barely beginning. "Jeremy says they're wealthy. Judging from the building there, that might be an understatement. And that just goes along with the feeling I have about the guard. That man is sharp. He isn't just a status symbol of wealth. He's there for a reason, and, unless I miss my guess, he's... very capable. I get the feeling there's a lot more to the Matthews' security than a simple guard station at the bottom of this ... driveway."

"But he barely glanced in our truck."

"Yeah, but did you see the new asphalt where we stopped? You can bet there are sensors in that. Also, did you notice that his helmet visor was down when we turned into the drive? I've never seen a visor like that. It retracted into the helmet just as we stopped, and it did it without his having touched it. I bet that helmet contains some fancy electronics."

Adriana chuckled. "Is my husband nervous? You seem to be concentrating on something that..."

"I'm not nervous. I guess it's just the whole thing. A rich family's gate guard would be expected to look sharp, but ... I don't know. I just had a feeling that we were being scrutinized way beyond what I could have foreseen, plus I've never seen a rifle like that. I didn't want to stare, so I didn't get a really good look at it, but the magazine doesn't seem right, somehow. It's positioned a little bit wrong. Come to think about it, it really doesn't look much like a magazine at all, but I can just about guarantee that's a military rifle. It goes along with what I'm saying. And another thing, where's the guard's personal vehicle? He's not here by himself. Someone dropped him off at the gate."

"His wife could have brought him to work, Van. Surely..." She was quiet for a moment, then quickly went on, "Oh, you're having one of your feelings, aren't you? Do you think we're in danger?"

"Uh, I guess I am having one," he said with a chuckle. "But danger? Unh uh. I think the exact opposite is true. That guard is a pro. His demeanor, the way he carries himself, all of it speaks of military. His weapon is a serious one, whatever it is, and I'll bet my hat he knew who we were long before we turned into this driveway. And when did you ever see a private gate guard carrying a rifle? And ... I don't think he was just expecting us from a guest list. He didn't just assume who we were; he knew who we were. I'm really looking forward to meeting this Matthews guy. He's certainly impressed our son and his women, and I'm damn sure impressed with what I've seen of his security."

"You're implying there's more than just the gate guard, aren't you?"

"Can't you feel it? We're being watched."

The pickup climbed on for a moment, and Adriana, instead of answering him, shifted back to Van's previous comment. "Speaking of women, Husband, don't get any ideas about extra women just because your son has decided to have two."

"Two?" Van said, his voice a little grimmer than he meant it to be.

"Yeah, three with Paulette," Adriana sighed. Then reaching over to squeeze her husband's thigh for a second, "I'm all the woman you need, Mr. Carter. I've never turned you down – not even once – and a heck of a lot of the time, I instigate our lovemaking."

Van didn't say anything, and Adriana had a sudden thought that she may have somehow hurt his feelings with what started out to be a little teasing. "If I ever think you need another woman, I'll pick one for you myself," she finished, trying to moderate her comment a little.

Van just looked over at her for a second and grinned. "Honey, you know how much I love you and our marriage. I'm not going to do anything that would jeopardize that."

As they drove on past the circular drive in front of the Retreat, Adriana continued with, "Aren't we going to turn in?"

"Sorry, I should have told you. Jeremy said we should drive on around to the back. He said that the Matthews had joked about the front entrance being too prestigious for people like them, the Matthews I mean. He said that everyone uses the back entrance."

Van had barely brought their pickup to a stop in the rear parking lot when the back door of the Retreat opened and Paulette hurried out while shrugging into her coat. She hugged her mother, then when Van came around the vehicle, she hugged him just as hard. "The Matthews have an intelligent computer that allowed us to watch you all the way up the drive. Mr. Matthews told the computer, uh, the AI, your names. He said it would recognize you from now on. It already knows me," she finished, her words almost stacked one upon the other in her exuberance. "Oh, this place is so beautiful, and everyone is sooo nice."

Before Van or Adriana could comment, "Welcome to our home," Diana said as she, Helen and Laura hurriedly walked up. "I'm Diana," the Queen said.

Shortly, everyone was introduced and Helen and Laura reached in the pickup to get the Carter's luggage. "Wait," Van said, managing to at least hang onto his case. "I can't have you ladies carrying our bags for us."

But the women would not be dissuaded, and headed for the steps before he could say anything else. Diana had begun talking to Adriana as if they had known each other all their lives. Just as everyone stepped into the mudroom, Jeff hurried in from the hall to meet their visitors. "Sorry, I got tied up for a moment."

Diana quickly introduced Van and Adriana as Laura and Helen went on in with the luggage. Jeff shook Adriana's hand, then put his hand out to Van. As their hands touched, there was a second of silence, before, "Well, I'll be..." the Prime quietly said. Grinning from ear to ear, he glanced at Diana, "Guess who's an Alpha?"

Diana smiled back at him, "I told you I liked Adriana, even just talking to her on the phone." The Queen smiled as she returned her focus to Adriana while continuing to speak to Jeff. "I'm not a bit surprised that she's an Alpha's mate."

Adriana blushed, somehow flattered, even though she wasn't sure what Diana was talking about.

"What..." Van started.

"You felt it as we shook, didn't you?" Jeff asked.

"Well, I ... Uh, yeah, I guess I did feel something," Van replied, mystified and wondering.

"Alpha?" Adriana asked barely above a whisper, realizing something important had happened between the men, but not sure what it was.

Then with what almost sounded like ritual formality, Jeff said, "Welcome home, Brother." Slapping Van on the shoulder, "Now let's go get some breakfast and meet the rest of the family. We have a lot to talk about."

CARLA'S FARM

Fred had slept alone last night, the first time since before their RV vacation. He hadn't liked being alone again. The women had yelled bye to him as they had left for the Retreat a few minutes ago, without his even seeing them – which was the idea, he supposed.

It took me forever to get my dick to go down enough to piss this morning. Hell of a lot different than one of my women helping me with my morning wood before we get up in the mornings,  he grumped to himself. Fuck this tradition shit. I'm used to loving four women every night. My balls need emptying. I could have, at least, jerked off to relieve some of the pressure, but nooo, they made me promise. They know I can't deny them anything. But dammit, it isn't fair. They don't have balls to fill up with sperm.

He snatched the barn door open with a lot more force than was required, then stomped down the hallway to check on the horses, since he had promised Jessica he would make sure they were all right before he left. The barn was a pleasant temperature. All the horses had fresh water and the automatic feeders had done their jobs. He spent a few moments petting Abby and Molly (Carla's and Jessica's horses) before going back to the house. The neighbors would check on the horses while Fred and his family were away.

On the porch, he changed from his boots to his shoes, then in the house, changed from his work coat to a nicer one. After locking up, he got into his truck and headed for Matthews Mountain. He and his women had been there every night this week for the weddings, but they wouldn't be coming home for a few days this time. When they did, he would be married to his women.

As he rode over the little hill in Carla's driveway, It's only been a short while since my first time trying to jog over this thing. Hell, I could barely walk up it. Now, I don't even notice it when I go for my morning run.

I'm glad I befriended Jeff way back when. I don't know how much he has gotten out of our friendship over the years, but in addition to the best friend I've ever had, I got my youth back, and four beautiful women who think I'm the cat's meow. And ... I have Brenda back, too. It's hard to not believe in God, with what's happened to me. A druggie who ran off the road and killed herself right in front of us, then her mind flatlined until Brenda got sucked into it. What else could it be?

With a sigh, his thoughts continued, Even though I'm thrilled to have my wife back, I ... kinda miss her being in my mind with me. But now she has a beautiful body to hug me with every day and that wonderful pussy of hers to accept me into her new body and take my sperm. Jeff says every enhanced Alpha's marriage will probably have a Queen, but I have no idea who mine is, or will be. Carla is accustomed to running the farm and consequently being boss, but Brenda was my longtime wife before she died and I came out here with Jeff. If it hadn't been for him, I would have eaten my gun like so many cops do.

I owe him my life, and I mean that in a literal sense. Now, he and Diana want to marry us, but there is already a bond between my women and me. Jeff thinks his and Diana's marrying us will strengthen that bond. I don't know. Maybe it will, and my women are adamant about the marriage, so I'll go along with it. But my dick is hard, and Diana has already told Carla they will fix me one of those shakes this afternoon. I don't need anything to make me horny; I just need my women.

"Tradition," he griped aloud. Tradition that the women don't sleep with their man the night before, or see him the day of the wedding. I thought that only applied to seeing the bride in her wedding dress prior to the wedding. But then again, I noticed the look on Tate's face when he saw his women coming down that staircase. I don't get a kick out of looking at men's crotches, but I'd bet my bottom dollar that Tate was fighting a hard on while he stood there waiting for his wives.

I have to admit that I had to choke back a snicker when I realized what was happening to Quinton. It was funny as long as it was him. Now, it's going to be me standing there trying to count backward by threes. Dammit Jeff, this better be worth it.

-------

Fred parked in the back, got out and was reaching back into the truck for his suit when Arlene, Nat, Nicki and Whitney ran up. When he turned, Arlene pulled his head down to peck him on the lips as Whitney reached past them to get his case, handed it back to Nat, then took his suit out of his hand.

"Hey, Fred," the three chorused.

"Hi, Ladies. I'll get that..." he started, but he was talking to the backs of the giggling girls as they hurried toward the rear door of the Retreat.

Arlene pushed the truck door closed and slipped her arm in his as they started for the building. "Your women are already on the second floor. Jennie and Melissa took up a serving cart and they're all going to eat breakfast together. I'm supposed to make sure you stay out of trouble," she finished with a grin on her face.

He wasn't sure whether she was kidding or not, but before he could think much of it, she continued, "Daddy found another Alpha."

"Who?"

"Jeremy's father, Van."

"Damn. The clan is growing," Fred chuckled as he held the back door open for Arlene.

"Daddy says all the Alphas will meet after breakfast to talk and welcome Van and Adriana. He needs to convince them to be blocked so we can tell them everything."

"Sounds like an interesting morning."

"You had better eat hearty. This is your big day, and ... there will be a long night afterward, if your women have their way," she finished with a cute little giggle.

That might have worried me before Little One enhanced me,  Fred thought, but not anymore. Besides, I sleep with them every night. There will be some sore pussies in the morning.

-------

At eight o'clock, Fred was sitting with the other Alphas and their Prime in the small dining room when Quinton Tate and his women came in from their wedding night. Seeing Quinton, Fred immediately thought of the old expression, "rode hard and put up wet."

Tate sat without a word, grabbed a carafe and poured himself a cup of coffee, none of the men saying anything. After taking several sips of the hot brew, Quinton finally looked at the other Alphas. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Jeff slid a box containing the pussy cream down the table to the newlywed. "You might want to use that after taking a few minutes in the Jacuzzi in your suite. We'll wake you for lunch."

"They've never been like that before," Quinton said under his breath.

"Did you flip their switch?" Jeff asked.

"Hell yes. They just woke up a few minutes later and wanted to go again. My balls are sore. It hurts to even think about sex, yet my dick kept getting up every time any of them put a hand on it. It even hurts to piss."

Fred shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and in a voice more tentative than he liked, "Uh, I have four women, too."

"Better get some extra sleep while you can," Quinton grimly said. "They take this seriously. Don't misunderstand: it was the best night I've ever had in my entire life, but there were times last night when I thought ... Well, you know what I mean."

Virginia walked over, her swollen nipples pushing her tight top out. Ignoring the box of pussy cream on the table, she leaned over and kissed her husband. "As soon as we've eaten, we're going to sit in the hot tub on the deck for a while. We'll be just fine after that." Kissing him again, a sexy smirk on her face, she turned and walked back to where the other women were waiting near the serving table.

"Well, scratch the nap," Jeff chuckled. "It is your honeymoon, Sheriff. Oh, yeah, you might want to schedule a ride or two on the snowmobiles to give your body time to catch up a bit from all that... exercise."

Jeremy sat with what seemed to him to be a continuous blush on his face. Van was still digesting what Jeff and the others had told him, but Jeff had said there was much more to tell, pending the three of them accepting the blocks. Jeremy had assured his dad that the blocks were safe. Somehow Van trusted Jeff, and he certainly did his son, so he guessed he would agree after he talked it over with Adriana and Paulette. But what's this about switches? he thought. How do you flip a woman's switch? I've never heard anybody mention a switch in reference to sex in my entire life. They're talking about orgasms. Are they saying they can make a woman orgasm by "flipping her switch?" That's more than a bit hard to believe. Do all these men have multiple wives? They act like an Alpha always has multiple wives. I love my wife, and she's been plenty for me. She's going to be pissed when she realizes what's going on.

As Quinton, Virginia, Elizabeth, Rachel and Cindy sat to eat, Diana, Arlene, Helen and Laura sat with them and the men at the same big table. Paulette and the other girls sat together at another table. When the newlyweds had eaten, Diana ushered them to the deck to soak in the tub, after Diana made sure Adriana went along to hear about the wedding night. Paulette, knowing that the women would be talking about sex, wondered if her mother would let her go, but hung back with Nat, Nicki and Whitney. Paulette was almost certain the three young wives wanted to go, but suspected they stayed with her out of courtesy.

After a couple of minutes, Adriana came back. Reaching out, she took her daughter's hand. "They're going to be talking about things you know little about, but you're becoming a woman. I've asked the others if you could be included, and I've told them that I expected them to talk freely, should you decide to come. We certainly don't want to diminish their enjoyment, so I reminded them that you're a farm girl and were not that easily embarrassed. They all enthusiastically welcomed you to be there. The choice is yours. I suspect it will be extremely embarrassing, even for you, but then again, chances are that you'll learn a lot. Want to come?"

Paulette could feel the blush warming her face. She risked a quick glance at her father, who, astonishing her, nodded almost imperceptibly.

"They'll probably be nude in the tub, Baby. It's a monster, and there will be plenty of room. If you want to, you can put on your suit and join them," Adriana continued.

"Are you going in, Mom?"

Adriana chuckled. "No. I think I'll just sit near and listen."

"In that case, I think I'll sit with you. Are you sure they won't mind my being there?"

"No, Baby. They don't mind. But just sit and listen. There'll probably be some ... very explicit language. They're very, very happy and have just spent the night having sex. But be sure. I don't want you spoiling things by getting up and rushing out should you get too embarrassed."

"I would never do that, Mom. That would be an insult to them."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I am, Mom."

"All right then, let's hurry. They said they would wait to begin until we're there."

-------

Diana met a concerned Jeff in the hall. "She still asleep?" the Prime asked.

"Yeah. I put some food in Billy's bowl. He ate and climbed back into bed with Selina."

"She's never done this before. If this continues, I'll have Little One..."

But Diana was shaking her head. "When I took her to bed, she was so sleepy that she was mumbling. I think she went exploring last night, and considering it is Selina we're talking about, I suspect she was testing her new ability. From what I could understand, she was very tired, and stopped by the kitchen for a snack. No telling how long she was up during the night. Anyway, a full tummy apparently got to her and she went to sleep at the table. Let's not needlessly worry about something that's probably just a tired six-year-old catching up on her sleep. She seems fine to me, other than being tired."

Jeff hugged his wife to him for a moment. "Well, when she gets up, have her come see me. I want to be sure."

-------

Dana, the Denver dress shop owner, held Jeremy's tuxedo up for his inspection. "Take the pants into the other room and put them on. We'll put the rest of the outfit on you when you're back."

"But..." Jeremy began. "That isn't a suit. It's a tuxedo. I understood that you were bringing me a suit. Is the tux a rental?"

But Dana was shaking her head. "I would never bring a rental to the Matthews."

"But I can't afford this."

Dana was holding back laughter. "It's paid for. Mrs. Matthews took care of that when she called your measurements in. Now, we need to make sure it fits perfectly."

Before Jeremy realized what was happening, Diana came up behind him. Kissing his cheek, she quietly said, "Dana gave me a good deal on the dresses and your tux. We'll discuss money later. Remember though, we owe you a lot for your finder's fee. Now hurry and put the pants on so Dana and her people can check out the fit of the outfit. Once you're done and out of here, we can bring your brides down for their fittings."

Jeremy took the pants into the room. They fit like they were made for me,  he thought as he fastened the pants. Hmmm, I guess they were, or else they were altered to fit me. Crap, this wedding is going to cut into whatever the Matthews are going to pay us for the finder's fee. Connie and Denise are worth it, but it seems like a waste of money to buy a construction worker a tux. When will I ever wear it again? He turned to go back into the fitting room when his brain supplied the next time he would need the tux. I guess I will do this again when I marry Paulette. Now, I need to make sure I don't gain any weight so this thing will continue to fit.

A few minutes later, he stood in front of the full length mirror, wondering if he would ever get the tux on right without help. As if Diana were reading his mind, she kissed him on the cheek. "Laura and I will help you put it on just before the wedding. So don't worry about the cummerbund and tie. Oh, by the way," she said with a barely heard giggle, "you look great in the outfit. Connie and Denise are lucky women," she finished as she winked at him. "How do the shoes feel?"

"Perfect," he said.

"Good, now let's get this off you and back into the garment bag."

A few minutes later, Jeremy found Jeff, Frank and Van in the living room. Sitting down, Jeremy waited until Jeff acknowledged him. "Did the tux fit?" the Prime asked.

Jeremy had just opened his mouth to ask if Jeff knew about the tux, but obviously, he did. Instead, "Fits like a glove, but I'm almost afraid to ask how much it costs. I hope there's enough of that finder's fee left to pay for it and the dresses."

Jeff grinned at Jeremy. "It's paid for, and you still have plenty for four years of college for you and your mates."

Jeremy started to protest, but Jeff waived it aside before Jeremy could speak. "We've been talking to Van about the blocks. He wants to speak with you about them before he decides. Frank and I will leave you two alone so you can discuss it. Connie and Denise said they would talk to Adriana and Paulette about it. When you've finished your conversation, just dial 161 on the phone. Frank and I will be in my office."

-------

Jeff sat in the primary command chair, Diana beside him in the secondary. He had only to turn his head slightly to see his wife, or see her from various angles through the Ship's mind. Either view made him realize all over again how truly beautiful she was. Her face bore the heart-stopping beauty of a Queen. Her breasts rode high and proud on her chest, her nipples making themselves prominently visible through the material of her top.

His mind had merged with the Ship's as soon as he lay back in the command seat.

He mentally spoke to his Queen through the Ship's mind, letting her know that he was there with her. He could feel her worry diminish, but her hard nipples were proof that she was still somewhat concerned about contact with an alien mind, even though the mind was that of an AI. But worried or not, Diana asked pertinent questions.

Later, the Prime and his Queen stood just past the ramp, looking back. "It's amazing to think that she's right there," Diana quietly said. The ramp retracted and even that was gone. "How can she hover like that? There isn't the slightest indentation in the snow."

They turned to walk back to the Retreat. "So what do you think?" the Prime asked as he put his arm around his wife.

Diana reciprocated by putting her arm around her husband as they walked on. "What are you doing, My Husband? Why should our daughter do this? What have you planned?"

They stopped as Jeff drew her fully into his arms. Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently turned her face upward in order to kiss her. After a moment, he moved back just enough to talk. "It's something we eventually must do, but we have to be a team first. I will not order her to do it. She must decide on her own."

Diana tried to chuckle, but it was more a choked-off sob. "Arlene," she tried to laugh, "We both know what her answer will be."

He turned them toward the Retreat. "You're worrying needlessly and you're shivering. Come on. That coat isn't heavy enough. Let's get inside and out of this wind."

-------

Fred was now married to all his women. The reception was almost over. Fred, having seen what Arlene and the others had done to the new grooms, had planned his and his wives' escape. He knew that Arlene and the others would throw rice at all of them, but they wouldn't hit the women in the face, or really try to get any down their bridal dresses, but Fred knew he would be the primary target. Dave owed Fred a favor, and Fred had called that favor in.

Arlene and Ann had apparently tried to sneak into the hall just before Fred and his wives left the reception. Dave, grinning, stepped out with the newlyweds, staying between Fred and Arlene, running interference for his brother Alpha.

Just as Fred began to congratulate himself on his ploy, Kayla stepped out of an alcove on the other side of the hallway, grabbed his collar from behind and dumped a handful of rice down his shirt. There was a roar of laughter from everyone as Fred spun to stare at Kayla, but she and Arlene were already busy high fiving.

Inside the honeymoon suite, Fred tossed his coat on the coffee table and was fumbling with his tie when Carla brushed his hands away. Quickly taking the tie off, she tossed it on the couch. Between the two of them, they managed to get his shirt unbuttoned. Shortly, he was standing without a shirt or tee shirt as Brenda brushed away several grains of rice that had stuck to his back.

"There, that should feel better," Brenda said.

"Yeah, it does, but now I need to get this jockstrap off so my dick can straighten out."

With four women eagerly helping, he was soon standing nude. Jessica had unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor around her. Picking it up, she tossed it over the back of the couch. While the other women were disrobing, she grabbed her husband's neck, pulling his face down so she could plaster her mouth to his. A few seconds of that while still holding her arms around his neck, she jumped up and locked her legs around his waist. Her hand worked between them for a couple of seconds before she slid herself onto his cock.

"Fuck me, Husband. Make me scream."

Fred put his big hands on her ass to help support her, and took a couple of steps to push her against a wall. She wiggled and tried to stroke herself on him, but his strength overrode hers as he raised and lowered her on his cock. In seconds, she was coming as he continued to stroke her. He caught her mouth with his, and their tongues dueled. She screamed into his mouth, her body going into near-constant orgasm as he continued to masturbate her on his thick cock. After a few minutes, he rammed hard into her and held, his semen pumping, his body trembling almost as much as hers.

She slumped against him, her legs hanging loose as consciousness left her. When his cock popped out, he picked her up and walked into the bedroom with her, come dripping out of her to leave a trail of drops to the bed. His other wives, now nude and lying on the bed, beckoned to him.



-------

Chapter 179

All of the Carters, with Connie and Denise, sat in the sitting room of the Carter's suite talking with Jeff and Diana. With Jeremy's encouragement and assurance, Van had allowed the blocks to be installed in his and his family's minds.

Jeff sat for a moment thinking, then catching Van's eye, "To be quite frank with you two, I usually use the Healer first."

"Healer?" Van wondered aloud.

"As I mentioned earlier, the blocks are given for a very good reason. But I usually use the Healer first, in a clandestine manner. Then, while the person is almost overwhelmed by how good he or she is feeling, I ask them to allow me to block them so I can explain why they suddenly feel so darn good. But because of circumstances today, I've changed things around a bit with you three."

Jeff went on to explain who and what Little One was, but it was obvious that Van and Adriana thought he was stretching things, if not outright lying. On the other hand, Paulette seemed to believe, probably because her brother, who she thought could do no wrong, backed Jeff's story.

"Uh, no disrespect, Mr. Matthews..."

"Jeff."

"Uh, Jeff, but..."

Not wanting to overwhelm them with the sight of Little One flowing out of his collar, Jeff stood, turned away and leaned over a bit. When she was in his hands, he turned back to Van.

Van, although wanting to believe Jeff was telling the truth, found it difficult to think that Jeff held a small alien AI, let alone one that could heal and "enhance" a person. With Little One visible in Jeff's hand, Van started to shake his head, until ... she moved.

"The Ship has several fully functional healing chambers, but Little One here," the Prime continued as he reseated himself and held her out in front of him, "is basically a first aid kit for Primes. However, she has adapted and strengthened herself until she is capable of far more than her original design stipulated. Now, with enhancements provided by the ship, she can do in thirty minutes what used to take her several days. With your permission, I'll ask her to enhance the three of you just as she has Jeremy, Denise and Connie."

"Mom, Dad, she's real," Jeremy offered.

"That ... thing, is really alive?" Adriana asked, obviously ill at ease. "How do you control her? Is she safe? Where did she come from?"

"She is, indeed, alive and fully sentient. I don't really control her in the sense you mean. I merely ask her when I need her to do something, although she is fully capable of acting on her own. I'll fill you in on where she came from a little later when we have time do go into detail. Safe?" he said with a chuckle, "She's designed to heal, but she will also defend me if need be. You certainly have no reason to fear her, though. She is a member of our family, is loved and she loves us."

Jeff had noticed the look on Paulette's face and held the Healer out to her. "Touch her. She won't bite. She doesn't even have a mouth."

Paulette reached out, but hesitated just before she touched Little One, looking toward her brother for assurance.

"Pet her," Jeremy said. "You'll see. She's real."

Paulette put her hand tentatively on the alien, then jerked back. Jeff chuckled, "Did you hear something in your mind?"

"Uh ... yeah ... I guess. I think I heard a faint, uh, sort of buzzing in my mind," she replied as she reached out to touch Little One again.

"She's a telepath. Diana, Arlene and Laura can pick up a little from her, and my other wives can feel her to some extent, but Little One and I have learned to communicate fairly well, at least on most things. But it's nothing like speech, nor half as clear as conversing with the Ship."

By now, Paulette was gently stroking Little One, then reached to take the alien. "I can feel her," she said as she put Little One in her lap, "and she's happy," Paulette finished with wonder in her voice.

The Carters continued to focus on Little One, all of them now tentatively petting her, "How old am I?" Diana asked Adriana.

Adriana hesitated, so Diana went on. "Twenty, twenty-one, maybe? Is that what you were going to say? I'll bet you were thinking I was Arlene's stepmom. Now think about this, Arlene is my daughter,  not my stepdaughter, and she's sixteen. While you're contemplating that, do you remember Susan? You were introduced to her. Well, she's my mom. How old would you have guessed she is if I hadn't just said she's my mother?"

"That's a bit..." but Van stopped before he could imply that they were lying.

" ... farfetched," Jeff finished for him with a chuckle. "Now here's something else for you to mull over. Once Little One enhances you, you will never be ravaged by old age or any type of disease – ever."

Van and Adriana were sitting on the couch with Paulette sitting beside her mother. Van, still skeptical, but trying to keep an open mind, took Adriana's hand, then looked back at Jeff. "Considering what you've said so far, I hesitate to ask, but you mentioned a ship..."

Diana grabbed Jeff's hand, "Since he thinks we're nuts anyway, let me." When Jeff nodded, the Queen turned back to Van. Deadpan, she responded, "He's referring to the starship parked at the back of our outdoor firing range."

"Yeah, right," Van said, laughing. "I knew you were pulling our legs about all this. That thing there that you put on our heads doesn't do anything. And that," he said as he motioned to Little One, "is a toy or a kid's robot or something, and ... there certainly isn't a starship out there."

Paulette was shaking her head. "Dad, I feel her. I really, really do."

Before Van could respond, Jeff continued with, "Tell you what. Suppose we make a deal? We'll slip on our coats and I'll take you out to the range. If there is an invisible ship out there, we'll come back in here and you will allow Little One here," he said, motioning to the Healer on Paulette's lap, "to put all of you to sleep for a couple of hours while she enhances your bodies. I give you my word that nothing bad will happen to you."

"And if there isn't a starship out there?" Van asked with a grin.

"Then I'll apologize for lying to you, and I'll do it in front of everyone in the Retreat."

"We'll all go," Adriana said.

"Good," Diana agreed. "It's not that late. A short walk before bedtime will do all of us good."

-------

Jeff brought the outside lights up, spoke to Security on his radio for a moment, then guided the visitors out the back. "That way," he said, nodding at the cleared vehicle path toward the invisible ship.

A look passed between Van and his wife, but they said nothing. Connie and Denise, with their arms around Jeremy, walked on behind the others, all three wondering. Jeff had mentioned the Ship to them, but they hadn't seen it, and like Van, weren't totally convinced there was a Ship, but with what the Healer had already done to them, Jeremy, Denise and Connie were much more inclined to believe what Jeff said.

A few moments later, almost to the end of the cleared path, Van glanced at Jeff as they continued to walk. "Look, I was just teasing, and I suspect you were, too. I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us. You've invited us up here and have treated my son so well – all of us. Let's just..."

Jeff put a hand on the other man's shoulder, stopping him and the others. "Put your hands in front of your faces and walk forward slowly. I don't want anyone to get hurt walking into the Ship," Jeff instructed. When Van frowned, then smirked, Jeff continued, "Just humor me, please."

"Uh, okay," Van said, wondering how far Jeff would take his little game. Van brought his hands up in front of his face and took a few more steps before he ... collided with something very solid and unmoving.

Jeff reached a hand out to steady Van as he staggered back. The newly discovered Alpha righted himself and put a hand out to feel. The hand encountered something, but as he pressed against the object, his hand slid to the right or left. He couldn't seem to really feel the surface in front of him. It was if there were no friction at all.

"Oh, shit," Van mumbled as a ramp suddenly appeared leading up to a hatchway to nowhere.

"Shall we?" Jeff said as he ushered them aboard.

-------

Hours later, Adriana returned to their bedroom after making sure Paulette was okay in the second bedroom of the suite. Van had stripped down to his undershorts before sitting on the side of the bed to watch his wife change into her nightie. "I guess I made a fool of myself, huh? But crap, how are you supposed to act when someone tells you there's a starship in the back yard?" Not expecting an answer, he went on, "One thing Jeff surely did accomplish though, I'll believe him from now on. And ... if he hadn't told me to put my hands in front of my face, I would have brained myself on that thing. I just knew there wasn't anything out there. I was positive he was teasing us."

Adriana, clad in a modest nightie, sat on her husband's lap snuggling to him. "Just hold me. An awful lot has happened to us in a short period of time. And whatever that ... uh, Little One did to us, I feel wonderful, and ... horny. Really, really horny. I thought our daughter would never hush and let me come back in here. She wanted to talk about everything." Hugging Van hard, Adriana kissed him. "Make love to me, Husband."

-------

Later still, Van and Adriana, hungry and now wearing robes, stepped into the sitting area of the suite. Paulette was sitting on the couch with a platter piled high with fried chicken breasts on the coffee table in front of her. There were scraps of a chicken breast on her plate, and she had just bitten into another piece. Quickly swallowing, she grinned at her parents. "I started to check on you two, but when I cracked your door open and heard Mom, uh, making noises, I thought I had better wait a while before asking if you wanted a snack."

"Paulette," Adriana hissed out.

"Oh, come on, Mom. I didn't see anything, but you sure were making a racket."

Van tried to project a stern face, but felt far too good to pull it off. Stifling a chuckle, "Where did you get all that chicken?"

His daughter, mouth full, motioned toward the refrigerator. After swallowing, "Arlene told me where they kept the leftovers in the kitchen, if this wasn't enough for us. She said they cooked it so we could have something to eat after Little One enhanced us."

Adriana reached to get a piece of chicken. "They cooked all this just for us?" she asked, taking a bite.

"Yeah," Paulette managed to answer with her mouth full.

Van grabbed two plates and handed his wife one, giving her another breast as well as placing two on his plate. Husband and wife sat on the couch with their daughter. He took a big bite, then hesitated for a second to savor the taste. After chewing and swallowing, "Hey, Babe, this is almost as good as yours. Jeff said we would be hungry. Actually, he said we would be 'ravenous.' Even that seems like an understatement now. I don't think I've ever been this hungry in my life."

Adriana, far too busy eating her chicken to talk, didn't answer.

Paulette paused for a moment. "There are biscuits and a big bowl of creamed potatoes in the refrigerator, if you want them. I just grabbed the chicken and started eating, not bothering with the rest."

Van was opening the refrigerator almost before Paulette had finished speaking.

Later, their appetites satisfied for the moment, Van sat back in one of the comfortable chairs. "What have we gotten ourselves into?" he quietly remarked. "Alphas with multiple wives, spaceships, aliens ... What the hell is an Alpha, anyway?"

Adriana walked over and sat in his lap. "I've lived with one twenty-two years, and I think he's a pretty nice guy." Snuggling contentedly against her husband, she kissed his neck, feeling his instant response under her ass as she did so. Adriana wiggled around. "Mmmmm, that feels nice," she whispered into her husband's ear, but Paulette heard.

"Mooommm,  you're embarrassing me. Way too much information for my delicate ears."

Van chuckled. "Oh, I doubt that you are too embarrassed. And I'm pretty sure it took you a good ten seconds to close the bedroom door when you heard us making love," he finished, guessing that his daughter had lingered.

"Daddee." she squealed.

Laughing, Adriana stood. "Let's wash our dishes and get back to bed. I want to be up early enough to help with breakfast."

"And I have some apologizing to do for being so skeptical of what the Matthews were telling us. Our son, however, seems to take all this in stride."

"Well, they've been here since last night, and in addition to that, they were familiar with the Matthews before that, plus Jeff had already done the healing thing to them."

"I guess you're right," Van admitted. "But it sure was embarrassing when I walked into that spaceship, or starship, or whatever they call it."

"I think we were all just as surprised as you were," Adriana said. "Now, we need to get some sleep."

-------

Back in her bed a few minutes later, Paulette, her body enhanced, slid her hand inside her panties to encounter an ultra-sensitive clit. She had masturbated earlier, but hearing her mom and dad had excited her again. She hadn't lied to her parents, but she hadn't told them everything, either. She had stood with their bedroom door partially open, listening for a couple of minutes instead of the ten seconds her father had accused her of. She was fairly certain he hadn't noticed the barely-open door – he and her mom had been too busy. Paulette gently teased her clitoris as she remembered the slap, slap, slap of her parent's bodies, her mother's squeals and her father's grunts. Yet another orgasm thundered through her young body as she mentally pictured her parents, all the while feeling guilty.

When her climax abated, she teased around her opening, then dipped her middle finger just inside her pussy until she touched her hymen. That's yours, Big Brother. I've refused to even use tampons and stayed with pads to make sure my cherry remains fully intact for you. One day that will be me making noises while our bodies move together. Her back arched as she imagined holding her pussy high for Jeremy, another orgasm wracking her body as she did so. A little later, sleep finally overtook her as her last orgasm faded into memory.

Not far away, Jeremy tossed and turned, alone in his bed, his cock erect and his balls full. Well, at least Connie and Denise stayed with me until it was bedtime. This is the last night before I'm married. Crap, I wished I hadn't let them talk me into saying I wouldn't jerk off. I wish...  But a sobering thought hit. Will I be able to keep up with two women? I'm a virgin; I don't know my ass from a hole in the ground about making love. I've done all I could to learn, though. I've read every article I could find about sexual techniques, and Connie, Denise and I have played around a little, but tomorrow night, uh, tonight,  he corrected as he looked at his watch, we're going to be married. Oh, I hope I don't make a fool of myself. My women are experienced, obviously. Well, from what they say, most of their experiences weren't good ones, but still...  Sleep finally overtook him as he continued to worry, even in his dreams.

FRIDAY MORNING

Fred, with a grin, had good-naturedly taken the kidding from the other Alphas. After the newlyweds ate, Tate and his wives, along with Fred and his women, all decided to go for a snowmobile ride. Jeff had suggested that it would be a good idea to have Arlene and Ann guide them.

When Jeff asked Helen if Arlene and Ann were caught up enough with their studies to take off a few hours, she just laughed and waved for the girls to come to her. "When were they not way ahead of everyone else?" she quietly said.

A few minutes later as everyone gathered in the hall, Jessica, with an arm around Fred, smiled and teased her new husband. "I think a snowmobile ride is a good idea. Our man probably needs a reprieve from us for a little while this morning."

The women all giggled, but Audrey (from the RV vacation) smiled up at Fred as she stood with an arm around his other side. "I'm fine for the snowmobile ride as long as it isn't too bumpy. Fred isn't the only one who could probably use a little break. I'm just glad there were four of us. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to walk today," she finished with a sexy giggle.

Quinton was glad the women were picking on Fred for the moment, knowing he (Quinton) was in desperate need of a break himself. As he smiled at his women, I can actually feel their love for me. I could a little before, but now the feeling is much stronger. Jeff said it would be, but it was hard to believe.

"Come on," Arlene said, breaking into Tate's thoughts, "we have a whole room full of cold weather gear in the basement. Let's get everybody outfitted and we'll go have us a ball in the snow."

-------

Jeff and Van found themselves alone in the big living room. "Sure you and Adriana don't want to join them? The girls have two courses laid out. It takes several hours to finish both, and they're great fun."

Van shook his head as the two men sat. "I think I'll just hang around here, if you don't mind. I've already made a fool of myself once by walking into that starship of yours. I don't want to risk another episode," he joked.

Just as Jeff started to respond, Susan walked in with a serving tray containing glasses, an insulated carafe of milk, and a plate of homemade doughnuts. Jeff quickly stood and moved a serving table over. When Susan had put the tray down, the Prime took his wife into his arms, kissing her lightly on her lips.

With his arm around Susan, Jeff turned back to Van. "I have the greatest mother-in-law in the world."

"I'm your wife,  Turkey. And don't you forget it," Susan teased. She put a hand behind Jeff's neck, pulled him down for another quick kiss, then hurried out.

"Thanks, Babe," he called after her.

Sitting back down in the recliner, "Best damn doughnuts in the world," he said, pushing the platter a little closer to Van. "Arlene and I visited our neighbors and came back with a dozen of these and the recipe. The doughnuts are a hassle to prepare, but I've told my wives I'll do anything they want if they will just cook the things regularly."

Van took a bite and seemed to freeze for a moment. Jeff just chuckled. "I'll make sure Diana gives Adriana the recipe before you leave. The first ones they made looked a bit rough, but tasted wonderful. Diana bought some equipment, and now they've learned to make perfect shaped doughnuts out of that great recipe."

The men sat in relative silence as they enjoyed the doughnuts. Van eventually wiped his hands on a tissue and finished off the last of his ice-cold milk. "I need to stop. I know you told us we would be extremely hungry for a few weeks, but if I keep this up, I'm going to get fat."

Jeff was shaking his head, "No. You won't. After we're enhanced, the extra food just seems to give us more energy and strength. Enhanced Alphas are much stronger than other people, especially if you spend a little time working out. You'll find that even that goes a lot quicker than it did before. Running, weight training, exercise of any type, shows results in much less time than it would have before the enhancement. You will begin to realize that your reflexes are faster; your eyesight, sense of smell and hearing will be improved, too. Healthy food is still better for us, but your arteries aren't going to be clogged by cholesterol, no matter what you eat. Given half a chance, your body is going to remain healthy."

Before Van could respond, Jeff went on. "I'm not certain just how long we will live. When I ask Little One about it, I'm deluged with information, but I think she's telling me that we will all eventually die of some type of trauma. Maybe she's using statistics or probability or something of that nature. Our deaths won't be because our bodies wear out, but rather we will eventually die by accidental or other violent means. At least, I think that's what she means."

"You're saying this ... alien, this ... AI is a fountain of youth? I guess I misunderstood you last night. I somehow thought you just meant we would have a long and healthy life. Adriana told me I was wrong, that you meant a lot longer than that, but I guess I just couldn't believe everything you said, even after banging my face on that ship out there. After looking at your mother-in-law, though, not to mention Diana, I guess I'm beginning to believe."

Jeff let out a soft chuckle. "I'm very little past that stage myself. But those years of visiting other worlds through the portal tended to give me a head start, I suppose."

"You really have been to other worlds? I find that hard to even imagine – not that I don't believe you," he quickly added.

Jeff chuckled and went on. "Of the billions of galaxies, with an almost incalculable number of planets, we're supposed to be the only race? The whole idea is absurd. But then again, when have you ever seen a forward-thinking bureaucrat or politician? Very few people in the government know of the portal, and those who do are blocked from telling outsiders about it. All we need is some ideological idiot campaigning to invite these 'wonderful' new alien friends to come visit Earth. Half the population of our planet would be dead in a week and the rest would be slaves. Idealism will get you dead out there," he finished, motioning vaguely toward the ceiling.

"And these races have weapons – real weapons," he continued. "The more advanced of those races we've met don't bother with projectile weapons, but have some variation of energy weapons."

"I knew the security guard's weapon didn't look right. He's carrying something like that, isn't he?"

Jeff sighed. "Yeah, and one of our teams paid dearly to bring an energy weapon back for our scientists to disassemble and reverse-engineer. Hell, they even made some pretty damn nice improvements on it. But that was years ago. Once they knew that energy weapons were possible, and they had basically unlimited funds to play with, we began to catch up.

"Some of the races we've seen have been around far longer than humans. Ahhhh, but the human race is really good at reverse engineering. We like to take things apart, and many times our people have improved whatever they're investigating." He pointed to one of the mountain peaks in the distance. "That one peak there has enough weaponry on it to defend us against almost anything that present Earth technology could throw at us, and there are several of those installations."

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes while Van digested what he had just heard. "Uh, getting back to the AI. If you could reproduce it..."

" ... Her," Jeff corrected.

"Uh, if you could reproduce her, you would be the richest man on earth. But even I can see that could get out of hand in a hurry."

Jeff let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that might just be something our politicians could finally act on in a hurry. She would probably be declared a 'national resource' and confiscated for the 'good' of the nation. Good of the politicians, in other words. Trouble with that is I suspect Little One could be a wee mite on the stubborn side if she wanted to be. Also, the technology that created her is at least an order of magnitude beyond the creation of the rifle Security is carrying. We have absolutely no chance of reverse engineering her. And if I understand her correctly, now that she has a better energy source, she would be darned hard to destroy, and ... she's fiercely loyal..."

" ... to her Prime," Diana finished for him as she and Adriana walked in.

The two women pushed seats nearby. "How were the doughnuts?" the Queen asked Van.

Van grinned at Diana. "You know darn well how they were – absolutely excellent. Thank you."

"Di has already given me the recipe," Adriana said, knowing her husband would expect her to make him some when they returned home. "So, how many did you eat?"

"Way too many," Van responded. "But Jeff says they won't go to fat." As he reached for another doughnut, "And I'm taking him at his word."

Adriana acted like she was going to swat her husband's hand, but giggled instead, then turned serious for a moment. "Di and I have been talking. Jeff is married to his daughter and his mother-in-law. Do you suppose it would be..."

"Yeah, I think so, Hon. After all, they've told us their secrets." Facing Jeff, Van started to speak, but Jeff beat him to it.

"You mean that you and Adriana are brother and sister?" Jeff asked. At Van's amazed nod, Jeff continued. "Di noticed the family resemblance last night and called my attention to it, but we didn't want to pry. We decided that you might tell us after we told you so many of our secrets."

Van allowed a frown to form on his face. "You saw that? No one else has, or if they did, they didn't say anything to us about it."

Adriana reached over to interlace her fingers with her husband's. "We fell in love, and after our parents were killed, well ... those first few years were tough, but we had each other. I still love him as much as I did the day we married, but please..."

"Don't worry. No one here will say anything to an outsider. Besides, society probably wouldn't be as mad at you two as it would be at me for marrying my daughter, and Diana for condoning it. Besides, you've been enhanced now. The three of you, and any children to come, will be healthy – guaranteed."

"Outside our family, we've never trusted a single soul with our secret," Adriana said very quietly. "But there has never been anyone else for either of us. It has been a great marriage, and we have two wonderful kids – one grown, and the other wants desperately to marry her brother. We told her she would have to wait a while longer, but our nest is going to be empty shortly. I wanted to have more babies, but we were worried that something would happen, so we didn't."

Jeff was quiet for a moment, his eyes losing focus. Then, "I've just double checked with Little One – basically the same question I asked about Arlene and me having a child. The Healer seemed to be just a little insulted that I would even imply that something would be wrong with a baby born of a person she had enhanced. Any children you two have will be perfect."

A look passed between Adriana and Van that didn't need any interpreting, and where the couple couldn't see, Diana mouthed the word, "baby" to Jeff. It wasn't a question.

The Queen got up and plopped down in her husband's lap. Gently pulling on his ear lobe with her teeth, she then whispered, "Sooner or later you're going to have to give up and put your baby in me. We'll have tons of baby sitters."

In addition to her nipping his ear and her warm breath, he could feel the nipple of her left breast pressing into his side. The inevitable happened, and when Diana felt it, she giggled into his ear, which made his cock even harder. She moved as if she were going to get up, but he restrained her, her giggle morphing into a chuckle.

Diana, taking pity on her husband, sat back up as he tried to concentrate on his dick going down. If Van and Adriana noticed what was going on, they gave no indication. As Jeff started to say something, Billy suddenly appeared next to the big window a few feet in front of them. Adriana and Van hissed in a breath, but before anyone could say anything, Selina appeared next to her kitten.

"You must refrain from teleporting unescorted," she admonished her kitten.

"Mmeeow," he said, his tail fluffed out. A cat lover would have said he was grinning. "Pop," and the kitten was gone.

"KaPop," and Selina vanished.

There was total silence for a few seconds, then Van, striving hard to keep his voice normal, turned to Jeff and quietly said, "Well, you did say there were still a few things we needed to discuss."



-------

Chapter 180

Jeremy and his dad were in the sitting room of the suite, Jeremy on the couch and Van in one of the seats facing his son. To say that Jeremy was nervous was a little like saying there was a bit of ice at the North Pole. Earlier, Laura had insisted that Jeremy drink the shake she had prepared, hinting at its properties. Worried that he somehow wouldn't be able to perform for his women, Jeremy had downed the concoction. Laura had told him it would probably make him sleepy to start with, but he was too nervous to be sleepy.

Two women. I've never even been with one woman before. I'm probably going to make a fool out of myself. But they obviously love me. They've told me dozens of times, and I sure do love them, but... 

"Son?" Van said, then when Jeremy didn't react, "Son?"

Jeremy's eyes snapped to his dad. "Sorry, I was just..."

"Son, according to Denise and Connie, you kicked a guy's ass who was darn near double your weight. Now you're worried you aren't man enough for those two beautiful women. That's ridiculous. They love you. Heck, a blind man could see that. You probably won't last long the first time, but they'll expect that. You three have the rest of your lives to make love. And despite what you think ... I'm absolutely certain you will do yourself proud tonight. I just talked to them, and told them you were nervous."

"Dad, you didn't?" Jeremy worried.

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't have. Now they're worried about you," Van said with a chuckle. "Dammit, Son, you just need to relax. You've told them you're a virgin, and that's something to be proud of, not something to worry about. Jeremy, they're honored to become your wives, and you can bet your last dollar they wish they could be virgins for you. Now, I promised them I would talk to you again, and come back and report to them. Am I going to have to tell them that you're a nervous wreck? If you just love those women, the rest will work itself out. Whether you realize it or not, you know what to do. Anything you don't know, they'll teach you."

"But what if I lose it too quick and then can't get it up again? There are two of them..."

Van chuckled in spite of himself. "Yeah, and you're twenty-one years old. Chances are your dick won't go down for the first hour, no matter how many times you do it. It's called youth. Nothing like it. Look, neither your mother nor I knew anything about sex, and we didn't have a computer then where we could easily read up on things, like you said you did. Ask your mother. We did just fine, anyway."

"'Ask my mother?'" Jeremy repeated, his eyes widening before he realized his father was teasing him – well mostly.

"Seriously, she might just surprise you, Jer. She's a very intelligent woman. Have you ever stopped to think that the easiest way is to just ask your women to show you what they want? Trust me. They can train you. Your mother certainly trained me."

Jeremy's face flushed and he grumbled, "I don't think I need to hear things like that about my mother."

Van chuckled and winked at his son. "Yeah, everyone's mother is a virgin, right? Whether you believe it or not, your mother is a very sensuous woman, and I'm darn lucky to have her as my life partner. If you have any problems with your women, you need to keep Adriana in mind. She's straightened my ass out more than once."

"Oh, I don't mind asking Mom for advice, just not advice about sex."

Van just sat and stared at his son.

"Okay, okay. I get the point," Jeremy conceded. "But I hope I don't have to ask her, or you, at least not about that."

"Feel better now?" Van asked with a grin.

"Well, I..."

"See, Adriana helped you without even being in here. You concentrated on how embarrassed you would be to talk to her about sex, and for a little while, you forgot to worry about tonight."

Van stood and started for the door, but turned back to say, "Jeff says we're Alphas. Quinton and Fred have four wives, and both men survived their wedding nights. Jeff has fourteen, but I confess, that's something I have a problem getting my mind around. You're young and you will have two women tonight. If those other guys can take care of their women – and from the way the women are acting, they certainly can – then you have nothing to worry about tonight. Just be yourself. Concentrate on pleasing them,  instead of yourself. That's what I've always done with your mother. I promise you they'll be hanging all over you when the three of you come for breakfast in the morning. And all you do to make them happy will come back to you when they show you how much they appreciate it."

"Thanks, Dad," Jeremy quietly said just before Van reached the door.

Van just grinned back at his son for a second, then went on out.

A couple of minutes later, there was a rap on the door. Jeremy glanced back at the door as it opened, thinking his dad had forgotten something, but it wasn't his father coming back. Instead, Diana and Laura bounced in with Diana swinging a jockstrap on her finger, a grin on her face, both beautiful women already dressed for the wedding.

"Did you drink my shake?" Laura asked as Jeremy's eyes riveted on the jockstrap.

"Uh ... yeah," he managed after a moment's hesitation. "I rinsed the glass out and left it on the vanity sink."

"Good," Laura said, her voice full of mostly-concealed laughter.

"Did you bring one of these with you?" Diana asked, then went on before Jeremy could answer. "This is a new one, if you didn't."

"Uh, I don't need..." Jeremy got out. He knew they were teasing him, but knowing didn't help one bit. He could feel the heat of the blush on his face.

"You drank my shake," Laura responded. "Trust me, the strap will save you some embarrassment while you're standing on that platform with your brides."

Diana reached over and grabbed Jeremy's hand, dragging him quickly to his feet. While he was still thinking about how easily she had pulled him up, the Queen said, "Let's get you showered and into that tux."

While Jeremy was protesting that he didn't need any help, the women herded him into the bedroom where Laura and Diana quickly had his wedding clothes laid out on the bed. "Here, take these," Diana said, handing him the jockstrap and a pair of his undershorts. "Get showered and shaved so we can get you dressed. Toss your clothes out before you get in the shower. We'll launder them so they'll be ready when you need them again."

Jeremy was shaking his head. "But I can't come out with nothing on but my shorts. Your husband would kill me if he came in and saw me shaving half naked with you two here," he tried to reason, then added, "Not to say anything about what Connie and Denise would do to me."

The two women giggled. "We belong to our husband," Laura said, "and we will always be his. Besides, he's aware we're here to help you get dressed, and so are your fiancées. He's not jealous because he doesn't have to be, nor will he ever have reason to be, and your brides asked us to come help you."

"Know how to tie this bow tie, hmmm?" Diana said, holding it up, her manner teasing and light. "Know how to get the cummerbund on correctly? Now get in that shower and let's get this show on the road, please," she finished with a little giggle.

He strongly suspected that his father had told Diana and Laura that he (Jeremy) was stressing over the wedding, but still, he was ill at ease with these two beautiful women he hardly knew, not to say anything about them being in his bedroom talking about getting him dressed.

As Jeremy turned to leave the bedroom for the shower area, Diana grabbed his arm. "Wait, please."

Jeremy stopped and turned back to face them. "He needs a trim, don't you think?" the Queen asked her sister-wife.

"Yeah, I do," Laura responded as she picked up the phone. A few minutes later, Arlene hurried in with Diana's small bag that contained her hair cutting equipment. "Over by the sink," she told Jeremy. "This will only take a few minutes."

Jeremy voiced a worried, "Uhhhh..."

"Think Jeff's hair looks okay?" Laura asked as Diana slid a chair into the vanity area.

"Uh, sure," Jeremy agreed.

"Then yours will too. Diana and I swap out cutting his hair every two weeks. And before you ask, the swapping out is so each of us gets to cut his hair – not who has to cut it."

Laura encouraged Jeremy to sit in the chair while Diana put a big towel around his neck. The Queen took out her scissors and a comb. "Don't panic," she teased. "I've been cutting Jeff's hair, off and on, since high school. When he was in the military, they cut it for him, of course, but after he got out, I picked it up again. Don't worry, I won't gap it, and you'll look great when we finish."

Less than ten minutes later, the young Alpha was in the shower, but he was still uptight about the wedding. When he walked back into the vanity area, he had a towel wrapped around him. No way was he facing those two wearing nothing but his undershorts. "Sit back in the chair," Diana instructed. "You're far too nervous to have a razor in your hand. Laura is going to shave you while I blow dry your hair."

Jeremy gave up and let the women have their way. They kidded, told jokes and teased him about his wedding night. Instead of the teasing bothering him, he found himself laughing. Before he realized it, his tension had diminished noticeably.

Diana slipped away for a couple of minutes, went into the sitting room, and called Denise and Connie on the phone. "Laura and I think he'll make it through the wedding without fainting, but he's obsessing with his being a virgin and consequently worried about being able to please the two of you the way he thinks he should. Judging from what he told Van, then Laura and me, we think he's, shall we say, over studied for his 'test' tonight."

Connie sighed into the phone. "But even if he just holds us, we'll think it is wonderful. He's marrying us. We think he's the greatest guy in the world. He doesn't have to worry about us. Everything will work out just fine."

"I know that, and Laura and I have tried to convince him. We've teased him, kidded him, and told him he'll be fine. But he wants to be perfect for you two – a super stud, I imagine. The irony of it is, enhanced Alphas are just that. But right now, he won't believe it. Anyway, like I said, between Van and us, we think he'll make it through the wedding. The rest is up to you two."

-------

Standing on the low stage awaiting his brides, Jeremy wondered where all the people had come from. Many were obviously part of the Matthews' Security, but others had on uniforms that he had never seen before.

"They're my team," Jeff whispered into Jeremy's ear. "They're here to train in the mountains. I'll tell you all about them later, but they came to honor you and your women tonight."

Before Jeremy could respond, Evie's piano music segued into the bridal march. The audience stood. Security and Jeff's team rose as one, coming to attention as Jeremy's brides started down the big staircase. The young Alpha forgot all about being nervous as his eyes locked on his brides.

-------

The wedding reception was drawing to a close. "Popcorn?" Jeff said as Diana handed him a little tulle of popcorn, the tulle tied with a tiny ribbon. "What happened to rice?"

"Connie and Denise wanted popcorn. Heck, it's easier to clean up than rice. You can't throw it as far, though, so we'll have to be a little closer."

"Sure they didn't mean unpopped popcorn? That would throw farther."

But Diana was shaking her head. "No, Dear. The unpopped kernels of corn are bigger than rice and would really hurt if they were thrown in someone's face. They meant popped. Also, as I told you, Jeremy is already stressed about the wedding..."

"Men are supposed to be stressed about getting married. You think I wasn't? I was scared sh..."

"Jeff."

"Uh, really bad," he said as he looked around to make sure he hadn't been overheard. "Besides, he's an Alpha. He doesn't get any more slack than the rest of us."

"Oh, he's not going to get any slack, particularly from me, but we won't throw any unpopped popcorn at him," she finished, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She nodded to Jeremy as he and his brides were getting ready to leave for the honeymoon suite. "From the way he's watching Arlene, someone must have warned him about her."

"Yeah, looks that way," Jeff agreed.

A little later, Jeff looked around for Diana as the three newlyweds made for the door amidst a cloud of thrown popcorn. He didn't see her, but he managed to get a good shot at Jeremy as the three ran by.

Fifty feet or so down the hall, the three paused to look back. As they did, Diana stepped out of an alcove behind Jeremy, grabbed his collar and crammed a handful of unpopped popcorn down his back. A roar of laughter and applause went up as the Queen jogged back to high five with Arlene.

-------

Jeremy, Connie and Denise stood in the sitting room of the honeymoon suite, their faces red from embarrassment as well as laughter. Jeremy's jacket, shirt, tie, cummerbund and tee shirt lay over the back of the couch. Unpopped popcorn was scattered about the floor, having been released when the women removed Jeremy's upper clothing.

"Everybody claimed it would be Arlene," Connie said yet again. "I couldn't believe Diana did that!" Connie exclaimed. "Where did she come from? All of a sudden, she was just there, hanging onto your back and shoving that popcorn down your collar."

"Well, I could believe it," Jeremy said. "You should have seen her twirling that jockstrap on her finger. I wanted to crawl under the couch."

"Hah, you should have seen the look on your face when she grabbed you from behind," Denise said, trying to hold back her laughter, but not trying very hard.

Before Jeremy could say anything more, Connie put a hand behind his neck, pulled his face down and kissed him, her tongue slipping between his lips. When she moved back, Denise took her place to do the same. Jeremy avidly returned the kisses.

"Wow," Denise whispered. "We were told you were stressed, but I couldn't tell during the ceremony, because I was too nervous myself, but you sure don't seem stressed now."

"Well, we're not in the bedroom yet. Plenty of time for me to screw up before the night is over."

"You can't screw up making love to us," both women said in unison.

Before he could respond, Connie and Denise, giggling, grabbed a hand each and dragged him into the bedroom. "Just stand still, Love," Denise said as she knelt to pull his shoes and socks off while Connie went after his pants, shorts and the jockstrap.

It was as if they had rehearsed it. Within seconds, they had him nude and sitting on the side of the bed as they quickly took off their wedding dresses and laid them over a chair. Posing in front of him, they again said in unison, "We're yours, forever. We love you."

"I love both of you. Love you more than life," he whispered.

"Now, we finally have the chance to make love to our man," Connie said.

"Wrong," Jeremy said, grabbing first one, then the other of his wives and pulling them onto the bed. "My dad said I would know what to do, and I guess I do."

When the women tried to talk, he kissed first one, then the other, shushing them each time they tried to speak. "For now, just do what I say, please. I want to make love to my wives."

The women looked at each other, their plans to initiate the virgin into sex thwarted by his suddenly taking control.

"But, Baby, we..." Connie tried yet again. "Just slide it in. If you come quickly, it won't matter. We want you to come inside us. How long it takes won't make any difference..."

Jeremy just smiled and kissed her silent. Finally, the women just stared at him as he continued, "To reiterate, as you're well aware, I'm a virgin. I probably won't last very long the first time, but I will make love to my wives, so I need to do it my way. Just hush now and relax. I must do this my way."

Jeremy remembered his dad's words about concentrating on pleasing the women instead of himself. He knew his father was right, and he set out to do just that. I can get my rocks off any time. Jeff says we will live a long, long life. This night is for my wives. No matter what happens, by the time we go to breakfast in the morning, they will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I love them. I didn't read all those articles for nothing. Now let's see if those techniques actually work.

Jeremy started with Connie, after promising Denise that he loved her just as much and would be there for her in a little while.

The young Alpha very tenderly kissed Connie's lips, barely brushing his mouth against hers before moving slowly to kiss her eyelids, then her cheeks and finally down her jaw line to an ear. As he nipped an earlobe then blew gently into her ear, she sucked in a breath and shivered. He focused on the things he had read about, refusing to hurry, determined to do the absolute best he could to show them his love.

Jeff's instructions about the "switch" crossed his mind. He had very little hope that it would work for him, but as he continued to trail his kisses around Connie's neck with the intention of winding up at her other ear, he went over in his mind what Jeff had told him. After kissing that ear for a while, he kissed a trail toward a breast. He channeled his mind into the switch routine Jeff had so painstakingly described to him. Just as the Prime said it would happen, he felt a connection with her.

Startled, he hesitated for a second. Do I want to do this now? I think I can. It feels like I can, but do I really want to do it this quickly? It almost seems like a cheat. Hmmm. I wonder what will happen if I do both? Just a little of the feedback switch while I continue sucking her nipple.

Opening the channel was easy after the connection was made. Carefully, he teased the channel open a tiny bit more as he blew on the nipple, then sucked hard. Her intake of breath this time was accompanied by a shuddering moan as she unconsciously grabbed his arms, her nails digging in. The flare of her response almost got away from him as the feedback suddenly gained force. He quickly backed away from the switch, allowing the feedback to dampen down a bit.

Denise suspected something was going on that she couldn't see, and loving her sister-wife, put a hand on Connie's hair, stroking her. After a moment, she moved the hand down to gently brush across Connie's free nipple. As Denise touched the nipple, it hit her. In a flash, a massive orgasm was hovering close. She sucked in a breath, suddenly realizing that she was feeling what Connie was feeling. "Oh, my," she mumbled as her legs squeezed her pussy tight, her whole body trembling.

Jeremy raked his teeth across Connie's swollen nipple, flicked it with his tongue, then sucked hard again, opening the channel of the feedback switch a little more as he did so. The feedback escalated between the three of them, spiraling upward and soon out of Jeremy's control. He managed to back out of the loop before his cock spurted come, but just barely. Whining, Connie bucked under him, her body arching upward as the orgasm descended with all-consuming force. Denise, feeling the same thing, rolled against them, her pussy pushed hard against Jeremy's thigh as she added her wail almost in his ear.

Both women shivered long enough for Jeremy to gain some real concern, then they both fainted in unison. That really scared him.

Scrambling to a sitting position, he made sure both women were breathing properly. He rolled Denise to her back, then sat staring at them for a moment while his mind seemed to spin in neutral. Finally, he jumped to his feet and hurried to get a couple of dampened washcloths and a towel. Back at the bed a few seconds later, he again made sure his wives were breathing properly, then set about wiping their sweating faces with the cool cloths. When the women didn't immediately revive, he folded the cloths and put them on their foreheads, then sat about drying their sweaty bodies with the towel.

Jeff told me they would have a strong orgasm and faint, but I never expected anything like this,  he thought. I almost got caught in it myself. Shit, that would have been embarrassing to shoot off all over them without even getting my dick in a pussy. I would have died with embarrassment.

He was kneeling between the women when he saw Denise's eyelids flutter, then slowly open. There seemed to be a moment of disorientation as she stared up at him. "Are you okay?" he anxiously asked as he retrieved the dampened cloths from both their foreheads.

There was a hesitation, then a smile like he had never seen before gradually took over her face. "No, I'm not okay – I'm far beyond that. I feel wonderful," she said as she raised a hand to caress his face. "What did you do to me?"

Denise suddenly remembered Connie and quickly turned to look at her sister-wife. Seeing the deep flush on Connie's breasts and neck, Denise giggled. "Oh, it looks like she's just fine, too."

Connie sucked in a breath and opened her eyes. Like Denise, she looked confused for a moment before her eyes focused on her husband. "What did you do?" she asked, using almost the same words Denise had a short time ago.

Jeremy cleared his throat, suddenly worried that he might have done something wrong. "I uh ... Jeff says that Alphas can learn to, uh, trip a switch in their women. It has something to do with feedback, and it produces an orgasm. I, uh..."

"An orgasm," Connie tried to laugh, her voice scratchy. "An orgasm. That was like ... that was like... all the orgasms I've ever had in my life all rolled into one."

"Yeah," Denise agreed, "and then some."

"You felt it too?" Connie asked Denise.

"Blew me away when I touched your breast."

After a moment, "I guess there's no doubt about his being an Alpha, huh?"

"Whatever an Alpha is, I'm glad he is one," Denise said as she stared at her husband.

"Can I have some water, please," Connie asked.

"Me, too, Jer," Denise added as Jeremy got quickly to his feet.

Despite their dry throats, the women giggled as Jeremy's cock bounced before him when he hurried to get their water. Tossing the washcloths in the sink, he quickly filled two glasses with tap water.

Back at the bed a few seconds later, the women smiled their thanks and greedily drank the water, but they both realized what they were doing in time to save Jeremy some. "I'm fine," he said, shaking his head.

"Now tell us about this," Denise directed when they had finished the last of their water and she had turned to put their glasses on the bedside table. "We know that Jeff told you about it, but start from the beginning and tell us everything."

Jeremy was again sitting between his two women, facing them as they lay on their backs. "Well, Jeff was telling me about Alphas, and ... I guess I wasn't into believing some of the things he said, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Anyway, he had said something about a switch before, and I asked him about it. He said that the Ship had done something to Little One. He called it some sort of enhancement. Anyway, while the Ship was healing Arlene, and Little One was in the healing chamber with her, the Ship completed the enhancement that Little One had already started on herself. Somehow this allowed Little One to 'tap' into some sort of power source from the 'dimensions.' Anyway, whatever that meant, he says that the enhancement for Little One has enabled her to make things happen much quicker for a new Alpha than she previously could, and this switch thing is part of it."

"Jeff put his hand on my head and kinda walked me through it. I didn't feel anything much then, but I surely did when I tried it on you, Connie. I didn't expect it to affect you, though," he said to Denise.

"So," Connie said, "Denise and I wound up with the most wonderful orgasm of our lives, and you got nothing."

"Well, that's not exactly..." Jeremy started as Denise rolled over to quickly capture the head of his cock with her mouth.

"Lie back," Connie said as she rose up beside him. Coming to her knees, she encouraged him to lie back, following him to present a luscious breast just above his mouth, the nipple almost touching his lips.

Denise sucked hard on his cock as Connie pushed the nipple into his mouth. He tried to say something as Denise took her mouth off and a moment later replaced it with her pussy. After several tries, she had him seated into her depths, his cock stretching her channel and going deeper than she had ever experienced. As the head of his cock nudged her cervix, she knew there would come a time when she would have his baby. The thought, accompanied by the wonderful feeling of his cock expanding her pussy, soon brought on an orgasm that seemed to go on and on.

Jeremy grasped her hips and thrust into her. "Oh, my. Oh, my," she kept repeating, her breasts bouncing with his thrusts.

The quick release that Jeremy so worried about didn't materialize, mostly because he was still focusing on pleasing his mate. Eventually, however, the bouncing of her breasts grabbed his attention, and the way she was biting her lips just made her look sexier. "Baby, I'm getting close," he gasped out, worried he would come too soon.

"Yes!" she screamed out as her body shook, doing amazing things to her breasts that locked Jeremy's attention on them.

Then it happened. As her orgasm began in earnest, her pussy clamped down hard, then pulsed around his cock. He arched his back, lifting his mate up as her pussy continued to spasm around him, his world focused on the sexy woman as she put her head back and screamed. He didn't think about tripping her switch, mainly because he didn't have enough of his brain functions left to even consider it. His body tingled all over. His vision tunneled with Denise's face locked in what sight he had left. His semen boiled up from within him, his sperm mixing in before the stream shot out the end of his dick with force.

Denise fell across his chest, her body thrusting her cervix hard against the head of his pulsing cock, his come filling her. Finally, his cock stopped spurting, but Denise was out, and Jeremy had only a vague knowledge of what was going on. He felt Connie slumped against them. At the time, he was unaware that she had orgasmed when he and Denise had.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled, "no wonder Tate was out of it the morning after. I guess I will be too, but I'll have a grin on my face."



-------

Chapter 181

SIX-THIRTY SATURDAY MORNING – THE RETREAT

The early breakfast was over. The Alphas agreed to meet back in the small dining room just before eight to await Jeremy and his women as they came to eat. The Alphas weren't going to cut him any slack just because he was young.

With time to kill before the newlyweds were due to eat, Jeff showed Van around the retreat, winding up in Jeff's lab office in the basement. As the Prime put on a pot of coffee, he motioned Van to a seat. Instead of sitting behind his desk, Jeff grabbed a seat across from Van. As the men waited for the coffee to brew, Jeff told Van about selling his idea and working prototype to Wainwright, Inc.

"You're talking about Frank, right?"

"Yeah, he owns Wainwright, Inc. and a host of other businesses," Jeff continued. "I had almost bankrupted our personal finances buying materials and renting labs. Diana and I would have been in deep financial trouble if the invention hadn't sold when it did." He went on to outline in general terms some of the things that had happened to them since coming to the Retreat.

When the coffee finished making, Jeff poured two mugs, offered Van cream and sugar, which he declined, then sat again. "So, I've given you the gist of our recent lives; now I'm curious about yours. If you're willing to share, of course," he quickly added.

Van took a careful sip of the hot coffee as he thought, Well, they've already figured out our secret, and we really don't have anything else to hide. Besides, I'm beginning to believe this thing about Alphas – strange as it sounds. Adriana has always said I was different. She makes a big deal about my "feelings." But doesn't everyone have a feeling about something from time to time? What I have isn't even consistent. I don't know what keys them, and there are times I don't have a feeling about something when it surely would come in handy if I did, but...  Making up his mind, "What would you like to know?"

Jeff leaned back and crossed his legs. "Oh, I don't know. Just background, I guess. How did you and Adriana wind up where you live, and how did you two manage to get married even though you're brother and sister?"

Van spent the next quarter hour telling Jeff about the couple's early life and their purchase of the farm, also relating that they had each managed to obtain a two-year degree in agriculture. Van continued with, "A little more than ten years ago, Adriana and I had a discussion about the direction we wanted our farm to take. We were having major problems. A very large part of our farm expenditures, other than fertilizer and fuel, were going toward antibiotics for the cattle and swine. Our animals were far from being as healthy as the animals Mom and Dad used to have on their farm, and things seemed to be getting worse for us every year. The ever-spiraling upward price of vaccinations and antibiotic injections were eating up what little profit we were making. Oh, we had plenty of food, but very little cash to buy the other things we needed.

"I might still be fighting that fight if that old boar hadn't caught me with his hoof when I was giving him an injection. He wasn't trying to hurt me, but was just trying to get away. Regardless of the intention though, his hoof caught me just below my left knee as he tried to lunge away. The hoof slid down the front of my left leg, tearing my pants like they were made of tissue paper, and ... leaving a fairly superficial gash about six inches long in my leg. The cut wasn't deep enough for stitches. Regardless, I knew to quickly take care of an open wound in order to keep down infection, so I rinsed my leg with the hose to get the worst of the crud off, then went to the house.

"Farm wives tend to have to patch up their men from time to time. It's easy to get hurt on a farm and we don't run to the emergency room every time we get a boo-boo," he said, chuckling. "Anyway, Adriana scrubbed the wound with soap and water, then put on an over-the-counter antibiotic, wrapped the injury in gauze and taped it down. It was no big deal. I've certainly been hurt far worse. I put on another pair of pants and went back to work. The next morning, she cleaned the wound again, treated it with hydrogen peroxide and put on more antibiotic, covering the area with a new bandage. We both thought everything was fine. By late afternoon when I came in for supper, the leg was beginning to swell and I was limping on it. Adriana took the bandage off and had a fit. There were red streaks above my knee and the injury itself was swollen and drooling pus.

"She did let me take a quick shower and put on clean clothes before she herded me into the truck and we headed for the hospital. I thought for sure we were going to get a ticket, but we didn't see a cop the whole way. She for darn sure blew the cobwebs out of that motor. I was more scared of the ride than what was happening to my leg.

"I thought the emergency room doctor would give me a shot, have a nurse rebandage the wound, and send me home – wrong. To make a long story short, I spent ten days in the hospital, and for a time, I thought I was going to lose my leg. That was a wake up call for me – well, both of us, I guess. Not only were our animals disease ridden, but some of those diseases apparently could cross over to me from the filth of a hog pen. This wasn't something I hadn't heard of; I just never really focused on it, I guess.

"When my wound was finally healed, Adriana and I began to talk to various farmers in the area, and it turned out that most of them were locked into the same vicious cycle of antibiotics, vaccinations and steroids that we were. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see we were all going under if we didn't come up with something. Adriana and I studied everything we could get our hands on from the county agricultural agent's office, plus reading every article we could find on the net about better ways to farm.

"We sat down one night, prayed about it, and decided to start over again. We sold every animal on the farm, except our two hounds," he chuckled. "My barns were built on concrete slabs. I cleaned out everything but the basic structures, burning the lot, then sprayed everything left with a chemical the agriculture agent recommended. Adriana got a job in town so we would have some type of income while I began the change to organic farming.

"We had some money that we had invested over the years. We sold off the investments and stuck our necks out to invest in a co-op with a group of other like-minded farmers and a few businessmen. During the changeover, we came close to going under – really, really close. And there were times that I seriously thought we had made the wrong decision."

"But..." Jeff prompted.

"I had borrowed money – the first time we had ever had to do it – to buy calves, pigs and baby chicks for our new start. Everything came from organic farms. Heck, we also bought baby ducks, turkeys and even guineas. By then, our pastures were ready for the animals."

"For the cattle and pigs, you mean?" Jeff said.

"No, for all of them. The fowl, too."

"You graze chickens?" Jeff wondered aloud, a half grin of incredulity on his face.

"Yep," Van said. "And I do more than that. I bought this plastic fence. It's lightweight and made to be easily moved, and specialized to do just what I'm doing with it. It's only five feet tall, and made of a one inch plastic mesh. I keep the chicken's wings clipped back a bit so the more adventurous ones can't fly over the fence. I have five chicken houses that I move, chickens, ducks, turkeys, guineas and all. Each house is thirty feet long and ten feet wide. They're not unlike big farm trailers, each connected to the one in front of it with a wagon tongue. Every three days, I back the tractor up, lock onto the front chicken house and pull all five to a new location a short distance down the pasture.

"All the fowl go into the houses to roost at night. If I'm going to move the houses the next day, I go out after dark and close the doors. Early the next morning, I move the chicken houses with the tractor, then Adriana and I set up the portable fence and let all the chickens and their buddies out to a new area. Occasionally, one of the guineas will fly over the fence, but come late afternoon, it will generally fly back to roost with the rest of the fowl. I just clip the flight feathers on one wing to solve its roaming problem.

"Natural farming doesn't produce the yield that normal farming does, but it's easy on the environment, and profitable. And ... I haven't spent one single dime on antibiotics in the last ten years. I don't have sick animals anymore – none. I had to hold back on my row crops for the first couple of years, since I didn't have enough manure stocked up, but eventually I managed to balance everything. I can't just decide to put in another forty acres of row crop, though. I have to gear everything up to accommodate the new acreage. Everything I grow is part of the cycle.

"But the beauty of this is that I have something to sell almost twelve months out of the year. And ... since I'm part owner of the co-op, they have contracted with me to buy everything I raise on the farm. If the co-op doesn't need my products just then, they buy them anyway and sell them to other stores. Also, organic foods sell for a higher price in the stores, and with my sales going to the co-op, I get a much higher price than I would anywhere else."

Van couldn't imagine a wealthy man being interested in his farm, organic or not, but Jeff obviously was, because he seemed to be hanging on every word. "The co-op owns four stores and a slaughter house in the Denver area, and our CEO is thinking about expanding further this coming year. To be part of the co-op, the farmer has to have his farm certified by the co-op. If you're ever caught selling something to the co-op that isn't organically raised, you permanently lose your membership."

"Diana buys organic if she possibly can," Jeff offered, but it was obvious he was deep in thought while he made the response.

"Organic food is the going thing now," Van offered. "There was a video clip on the news the other day. The reporter commented that food businesses were not just moving to organic, but were 'running' toward it in droves. Don't misunderstand," Van went on, "I don't think the world is ready for every farmer to move to natural farming. At this point in time, organic farming just can't produce that volume of food, but we're headed that way. Organic is taking a bigger bite of the pie every year. Now, many of the larger fast food chains are offering organic foods.

"In the beginning, our organic farming was extremely labor intensive, but I've learned over the years. What used to feel odd is natural to me now. I wouldn't change back for anything, but I just wish I had more land. I've expanded just about all I can with our present acreage."

Van leaned back, crossed his legs and grinned at Jeff. "You and your women will have to visit some time, and I'll show you my grazing chickens," he laughed.

"You don't feed them anything?"

"No, not during the growing season. They get plenty of food from the grass mixture and the insects that thrive there. We're talking about a mixture of grasses that's knee-deep, not just something like a lawn or what you see in most pastures, but a vibrant tangle of mixed forage. Once cold weather sets in, I have to feed the fowl as well as all the animals, of course, but even then, it's with natural grains that I raise organically for them. The fryers don't grow off nearly as fast, nor do they get as large as chickens raised on bought feed laced with steroids and antibiotics. But mine don't have diseases, or tumors growing on them like chickens raised by the big outfits, and the consumer doesn't risk those same steroids and antibiotics entering into his or her bloodstream. My laying hens produce a small but steady income for us, as do the fryers. I've even started raising quail. The co-op buys them from me, of course, but they resell most of them to high-end restaurants all over the US. Again, advertised as organically raised – which, indeed, they are."

Jeff asked several questions about the farm before they sat quietly savoring their coffee and appreciating the early morning. "Uh, Jeff, this thing about the finder's fee. Jeremy tells me you said it would be enough to put all three of them through college. He's concerned. He and his women don't want charity..."

Jeff's gaze snapped to Van's face. "It isn't charity. As far as that is concerned, I know of at least one foundation that would probably sponsor all three of them for college if they should want to go that route. But look up some finder's fee rates on the net. What we're paying Jeremy falls well within the norm.

"I'm always looking for good investments. Mr. Jackson wasn't selling his business because it was failing, for it certainly wasn't. He was faced with a heart condition that forced an early retirement – well, until Little One spent some time with him. I kept him on as an on-call adviser, and he still retains ten percent ownership in the company. He'll have an office there, and Lee intends to use him when needed, especially during the transition. My accountant – a person I trust implicitly – has assured me I've bought a profitable business. Jeremy and his women have provided a service for me that I would have had to pay for elsewhere. Why should I cheat them out of the fee I would have had to pay to someone else?

"I've told them I wouldn't discuss the amount of the finder's fee until after the wedding. Fact is, our accountant has already transferred the money into Jeremy's account, and there is enough extra to pay the taxes on the original money. The discussion will be simply telling him the money is there. Remember, he's an Alpha, too. My family does not cheat anyone, particularly an Alpha. Just as you appear to go out of your way to be honest, so do we.

"If Jeremy and his wives want to continue to work and go to school nights or on the weekends, or take courses online, well, that's up to them. The finder's fee is a done deal. They provided me with a service that will eventually make me money. You would have done the same thing in my shoes."

As the men continued to talk, Van wondered, I've never felt this way about another man in my life. He had to chuckle at himself, for he was glad he hadn't voiced the thought aloud. There certainly isn't a gay bone in my body, but this bond he talks about isn't just between us and our mates, for I feel something – some type of bond – between the two of us. I wonder if the other men he calls Alphas feel it too. From the way they act, I think they do. Maybe it's respect, or respect with something else added. It's as though I've known him all my life. It's like ... he's my brother or something. No wonder Jeremy, Connie and Denise talked about Jeff and Diana so much.

Jeff glanced at his watch. "Let's shelve this conversation until a little later. It's almost time for your son and his wives to eat breakfast, and we certainly don't want to miss that. But I have several things I need to ask your advice on before you leave."

As Van came to his feet, "I can't imagine having any advice that would help you, but I'm certainly willing to give you my opinion, if you think it's pertinent."

-------

Jeremy, Connie and Denise came through the door into the small dining room, each woman hugging herself to her husband, all three with red faces. Jeremy kissed each of his women on the forehead, then seated himself with his brother Alphas as Connie and Denise walked to the other end of the kitchen to be with the women.

"Don't even start," Jeremy said with a grin as he sat, grabbed a coffee pot, and with a slightly shaking hand, poured himself a cup. "And before anyone asks, I'm darn sure not a virgin anymore." He took a sip of the coffee and sighed. "Best night I've ever had in my life. Of course, if I had known what I was missing, I doubt that I would have been able to wait for my wedding night to lose my virginity."

Jeff slid a box of the pussy cream down the table to Jeremy, whose face immediately colored again, but he picked up the box and put it on his lap out of sight.

"We've all used it at one time or another," Dave offered.

"Will they always be like that?" Jeremy wondered, then realized he had spoken his thoughts aloud.

With a grin, Jeff responded, "When Little One enhanced us, it affected just about everything about us – male or female – our sex drives included. Were you able to ... initiate the switch?"

Jeremy gave out a quiet sigh. "I really thought you were pulling my leg when you first said something about that, and even after you showed me how, I still thought I wouldn't be able to do it, but ... yeah, I managed. I, uh, screwed up a time or two and allowed myself to get caught in the feedback, and let it take me out, too. They really got a charge out of that."

Connie, Denise, Diana, Laura, Adriana and Paulette began bringing food to the table. Shortly, his women seated on either side of him, Jeremy grasped their hands and had a silent prayer.

As soon as the newlyweds' meal was over and the dishwashers were chugging away, Diana took Connie and Denise to the deck where the rest of the women were waiting. As Paulette started through the door onto the deck, her mother put up a restraining hand. "This is about your brother, so I think it would be better if you didn't hear what Denise and Connie have to say this morning."

The look of shock on Paulette's face was too much for Adriana to continue with her little joke, though, and she started giggling.

"Mom, don't do that. I thought you were serious there for a second. I have to hear what they have to say. I want to learn how to take care of him. I have to."

Adriana hugged her daughter tight. "He really has you hooked, huh?"

"He's all I can think about, and you two screwing each other's brains out last night didn't help any."

"So you did watch us after all?"

"No,  Mom. I didn't. But..." Then in a voice barely above a whisper, she continued, "I did leave the door cracked open for a couple minutes as I listened to you. I'm sorry, Mom. I just had to."

Adriana hugged her daughter. "Oh, I'm not mad at you. A little uncomfortable maybe, but not mad at you. And ... I was young once. But just remember, you need to stay on the good side of your dad if you don't want to have to wait until you're eighteen to marry Jeremy. Now, let's go listen to what your new sisters-in-law have to say about their wedding night."

"Thanks, Mom. You're the greatest."

Adriana paused for a second as she thought of something, then turning back to her daughter, "Would you rather have a new brother, or a new sister?"

Paulette's eyes opened wide as she put a hand over her mouth for a second. "Are you saying that you're pregnant?"

Adriana let out a chuckle. "No, not yet. But Diana says that there is no longer any danger with the brother sister thing, since Little One has enhanced us. All I have to do is convince your father. And somehow, I think that won't be a problem at all. He likes titty milk as he calls it. Diana said that when Little One enhanced us, she 'turned off' the process that brings our eggs to fruition, but ... Little One can turn it back on at any time. I want another baby – or two. Di says I'll start to look younger shortly, and I already feel like a million dollars, so I'm going to talk to your father."

"Mom, you're only thirty-seven, and you don't even look that..."

"Hey, you two," Arlene called out to the mother and daughter who were still standing by the door. "We're going to start without you if you don't get over here pretty soon."

Adriana grabbed her daughter's hand and they hurried to their seats by the Jacuzzi.

-------

Jeff was interested in hearing more about Van and Adriana's organic farm, but the two men had barely gotten seated in the living room before Joyce and Jennie came in. Joyce smiled at Van as she flipped the lever on Jeff's chair, bringing the recliner upright. As Jennie plopped down in his lap, Joyce stepped behind the chair, leaning over so her braless breasts pushed against the back of his head as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Joyce snuggled to her husband and kissed him, rubbing her breasts against his chest. "It's our time now," she whispered into his ear, but the whisper was loud enough for Van to hear.

"Uh, we have company," Jeff started.

Both women turned to smile at Van for a second, then returned their attention to Jeff. "He's not company. He's an Alpha, and he's home," they said in unison.

Jennie continued with, "You said we didn't have to wear bras if the only people here were Alphas and their women. Van is family."

"Besides," Joyce said, "You didn't come visit us this morning. Husband duties," she said with a sexy little giggle.

Van came to his feet, laughing. "Jeremy has already said he wants to talk to me while his women are in the Jacuzzi. I was just about to ask you if we could put this conversation off for an hour or so."

Both women went over and hugged Van, each kissing him on a cheek. "Thank you," they chorused.

Chuckling, Van walked out in search of his son.

When Jeff, Jennie and Joyce got to their suite, the women quickly took Jeff's clothes off and theirs quickly joined the pile on the floor.

As soon as they had him prone on the bed, Joyce straddled his head, pushing her pussy against his mouth. Jennie sucked on his cock for a couple minutes, then eased her pussy down onto him. She let out a long sigh, just sitting there getting used to his thickness so deep inside her.

Soon, her body wanted more, and she began the age-old movements of love, starting with a slow up and down motion. After a few moments, she interspersed those with a back and forth motion that grew increasingly stronger. Just before her orgasm hit, her movements became uncoordinated as she seemed to try to rise up and down while continuing the back and forth motion, her efforts becoming almost violent as the orgasm took her. Jeff was beginning to worry that she was going to tear his dick off, or tear something in her pussy as she thrust her ass back and forth harder and harder. Finally, she rose up with just the head of his cock inside her, then dropped. Putting her head back, she let out a warbling scream, her pussy milking his cock. He let loose a stream of semen against her womb, even as Joyce wiggled her pussy on his mouth and added her wail to that of her sister-wife.

Later, they lay together, each female with her head on his shoulder as they absently played with his chest hair. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked Jennie. "Is there something wrong with Hope?"

"No, not really," she responded. "Well, maybe, in a way."

"Well, now that certainly cleared things up," he teased. "What's up?"

Jennie rose up a little to better look at her husband's face for a moment. "She's lonesome. She needs..."

Jeff let out a sigh. "Look, Baby, she still isn't sixteen yet. You're sleeping with her at night. And by the way, how long before you trade out with someone else? And before you say anything, I'm all for one of you sleeping with her. We've discussed it, and I concede that she needs someone, but I think it's time for you to be back with us at night." At Jennie's look, "Well, after a couple more nights, then."

"That's kinda the reason I wanted to talk to you. Just let me finish, please." Jeff grinned at her again, adding to her frustration. "And while we're on the subject, I miss you like crazy, Husband. But Hope really needs me right now. Now back to what I started to say. She's lonesome, and I'm not talking about my staying with her at night. If you ever saw how she is when I wake her from one of her nightmares, well..."

"That bad?"

"So bad, she scares me. That's the reason I took a nap yesterday afternoon. I had been lying there most of the night half awake listening for her to start with one of her dreams. Sometimes, she's really hard to wake up. And once I had her actually sitting up in the bed and she was still having the nightmare. Apparently, I had gone soundly asleep for a few minutes, and I didn't realize she was having a nightmare until she must have been well into it. Baby, she needs something to get her mind off those awful things that happened to her."

"And what if I do marry her and the nightmares continue, hmmm? Suppose she is scared of sex? And more importantly, does she love me? You know darn well the answer to that is no, don't you?"

But Jennie wasn't intimidated by his question. "You might be surprised, Husband..."

Jeff went on with, "Art risked his life for her, and damn near got himself killed doing it. If it hadn't been for the intervention of those paramedics, the doctors, and the nurses he wound up marrying, he would be dead..."

"She appreciates it, Jeff. She really does, and she's thanked him many times. She's hugged him, kissed him, even cried when she thanked him, but ... she doesn't love him. The last is my opinion. But I watch her watching you. Her eyes follow you when you're in the room with her."

"She's afraid of men, or at least uncomfortable when a man is near. She naturally keeps track of me..."

"Bullshit, Husband. Bullshit. All it would take for her to fall for you is for you to really kiss her just once, and I'm not talking about using your pheromones, either."

"But I have fourteen..."

"Dammit, Husband," Jennie said, coming to her feet beside the bed and turning back to her husband, her hands on her hips, her breasts and upper chest still flushed from their loving, "she's my sister. How am I going to take care of her if she marries another Alpha? She needs to be with me. And ... she needs to be with my Prime and my Queen. Do I have to get Diana into this?" she threatened with the big guns, as she tried to hide her grin.

Jeff managed to tear his gaze away from her breasts as he fought to keep from laughing – not at what she was saying, but at the situation. He had hoped for a second that she would stamp her foot in her anger. That would have produced a sexy bounce to her breasts. He smiled at the nude girl standing in front of him, her face and upper chest remaining flushed, both with their recent lovemaking and with her frustration about Hope ... and him. Her nipples were swollen and hard, her hair in disarray, a smear of semen leaking from her vagina. He had never seen her more beautiful, or ... more volatile.

"Look, Baby, let's just cuddle and talk about this..."

Amazing him, she seemed to shift mental gears. "She wants a dog – a puppy."

As Jeff reached to pull her onto his lap, "What..." he said, struggling with the sudden change of subject – at least he thought it was a change of subject. How in the fuck do women do that so quickly? I thought we were talking about marriage. How did a dog get into the conversation? I do fucking not understand women!

As he sat on the side of the bed with Jennie on his lap, Joyce put her arms around him from behind, pressing her breasts against him as she giggled. Jeff wasn't sure whether Joyce was giggling at him, or at Jennie's frustration.

"Puppy?" he finally ventured.

"She's wanted a puppy for a long time – way too long. Our dog was killed several years back and our asshole father wouldn't let us have another. She needs something to love. Something that will love her unconditionally. Something she can worry about, and make over. Something to distract her from what's happened to her – a puppy."

Jeff sat quiet for a moment, then, "Puppies grow up to be dogs. It's cold up here in the winter, if you haven't noticed," he said with a grin. "Dogs have to be walked – puppies have to be walked very frequently."

"Dave can build a doggie door."

"There are bears up here – well at least there was one grizzly. There are probably black bears too. A puppy would be a tasty snack for either."

"Jeff, you know that Security would alert us long before a bear could get close to the building, and besides, Dave can build a safe doggie run for our puppies – and until he has it built, they can use Piddle Pads."

"Piddle Pads? They? Puppies? As in plural? When did we progress past the singular?" he asked, but he couldn't help smiling at her.

"Wellll," she said, drawing out the word much as she had his name, "we girls want one, too. Oh, not one for each of us, just one for all of us."

"Which girls?"

"All of us. Including Selina. She thinks that Billy would love a playmate."

"What kind?" the Prime asked. And Jennie knew she had him.

"Something that will always look like a puppy. A Chihuahua. Well, two Chihuahuas, actually."

"It is not going to sleep with us," Jeff said, his voice almost sliding into pleading.

"Chihuahuas are lap dogs, Husband. They have to sleep with people."

"But some of those things don't weigh a pound. I'll roll over and crush it."

"Oh, we want a full sized one. They grow up to weigh six pounds or so. They're tough little critters."

"They look like a caricature of a dog," he tried to grump, but his grin wouldn't stay hidden. "You sure this will help Hope? We can't just decide we don't want it after we get it. I won't stand for..."

"No,  we would never try to give it back or get rid of it. We'll all love it – them. When can I tell Hope?"

"Whoa, whoa. We have to discuss this with Diana – with all my wives. Everyone has a vote in this."

Jeff knew he had been had when his wives started coming into the bedroom, all trying to hide smiles or giggles. "Am I always the last to know?"

"Yes," they all answered in unison.

Jennie thought they should all thank him. That took until lunchtime.



-------

Chapter 182

Jeff sat in his usual place at the head of the table. Frank Wainwright sat to Jeff's right as the family (minus four who were eating with Margaret and Tina in their suite) ate lunch. All the Alphas ate a lot, and Jeff usually ate more than most of them, but today, he was hungrier than usual. He had gone through his first plate and was already started on his second one.

"Looks like you're a bit hungry today," Frank tactfully said. "I didn't see you after breakfast. What did you do to perk up your appetite so much?" The grin on his face told Jeff that Frank probably already knew.

Hope was sitting farther down the table, but within earshot, and Jeff didn't want her to hear his response. Glancing at the girl, he quietly said, "Suffice it to say that my women, uh, thanked me for a couple of hours. And before you do too much snickering, just remember, that you marry Tina tonight. You said she wanted Margaret to be part of it, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Frank said as he glanced toward Hope, who had turned to talk with Nat. "We'll all marry each other just like you and the others have." Then quieter still, "I had to sleep by myself last night. That's a tradition I don't see any point in."

Jeff chuckled between bites. "Dropping that tradition is as likely to happen as elephants sprouting wings, and I'll bet you will be eating really heavy tomorrow morning."

Frank stopped with a piece of steak halfway to his mouth. "Oh, come on, Jeff. I've been sleeping with the two of them. Trust me, we've done about everything three people can do in bed."

Tate, who was sitting just across the table, chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought, too. Bet you'll have a different outlook when you come to your honeymoon breakfast in the morning."

Jeremy listened to the bantering between the men. They didn't tease me nearly as much as I thought they would. No way am I going to comment and attract their attention. I'm just going to listen.

Frank shrugged and continued, "If it hadn't been for Little One enhancing me, they would have killed me by now, but ... I'm used to the two of them, so I suspect I'll be able to hold my own – I hope," he quietly added, beginning to worry now. Maybe Tate has a point. He came through that door yesterday morning looking like something the cats dragged in.

Jeff and Quinton looked at each other and burst out laughing. Jeff turned his gaze back to Frank, "I would suggest you take a nap this afternoon, otherwise, you're going to be really sleepy in the morning."

"That's probably good advice," Wainwright admitted, a bit more uncertainty beginning to set in. Margaret has been my woman for years, and I've had both of them every night since Margaret and I married. Aloud, "We make love for a couple of hours every night. Surely our wedding night with the two of them won't be that much different."

Tate took a sip of his coffee as he watched Wainwright. "The reception will be over by sometime around nine, at least mine was. You'll have your honeymoon breakfast with your wives at eight in the morning. Right?" he asked looking toward Jeff.

"Yep," the Prime responded.

"So, then," Tate continued to Frank, "you'll have the better part of eleven hours to make love to your wives. And if Margaret and Tina are anything like my wives, sleeping won't be something they'll spend much time on."

"But ... you have four wives, and I'll only have two. If I had two more, I would probably be worried, but I don't."

"Yet," Dave added as he slapped Frank on the shoulder. "Yet," he repeated with a snicker.

-------

With Jeff's tentative okay for the puppies, his younger wives and Selina went into research mode, taking over his business office near the Matthews' suite to do so.

"It's Saturday afternoon," Jeff tried to reason as he stood in front of his desk talking to Arlene, who was sitting behind it in his big seat, "We'll go visit some pet stores Monday..."

Shaking her head, Arlene broke in with, "I've just finished talking to our neighbor. Marcie said there's a friend of hers in Winter Park who sells Chihuahuas. She said her friend has two litters of Deerhead Chihuahuas that have just been weaned. She's going to call to see if they're ready for sale."

"I don't know about buying from an individual. Perhaps..."

"You aren't seriously' thinking about buying from a pet store, are you?" Arlene asked, but in her enthusiasm, went on before Jeff could form an answer. "We've read where a lot of pet stores buy from puppy farms. You might wind up with puppies that have diseases, hip problems, back problems or worse. Marcie says this lady sells only healthy animals. Her husband died a few years ago, and she supplements her retirement income by raising Chihuahuas to sell. Marcie says the lady takes good care of her dogs. She allows her females to breed only once per year so they can fully regain their health before having another set of puppies. Marcie says she's a good person, loves animals and would never cheat anyone."

Before Jeff could comment, the desk phone rang and Arlene snatched the receiver up before the first ring was over. As she talked with Marcie, Jeff watched his daughter-wife jot down a phone number and address. "Tell her we'll be there in an hour or so to pick up two of them, and please ask her to not sell any of them until we get there."

When she hung up, Jeff smiled at his young wife, "Baby, you can't expect someone who doesn't know you to hold puppies for you on a weekend. I imagine weekends are when she expects to make the most of her puppy sales."

"Marcy said she would hold them for that long. Are you going with us?"

"Yeah, Baby, but we need to notify Security, give them the address and at least thirty minutes to get ready for us to leave." Before his sentence was half over, he realized that Arlene had picked up a radio and was very professionally talking to Security on the secure frequency, giving them the address and explaining the reason for the visit. Jeff didn't bother to tell her that Security was almost instantly on his radio asking for confirmation from him.

When Arlene signed off, "Diana is going with us," Jeff declared. "We've had weddings every night this week. Surely everyone knows what to do by now and can get by without her for a couple of hours."

Arlene rushed out to find Diana and tell her. As Jeff turned to go change into a warmer shirt, Hope grabbed him around the waist, hugging him hard, her breasts pushing against him. For a moment, he was afraid to move, lest he scare her, but slowly encircled her with his arms, hugging her to him. Only then did he feel the wetness on the front of his shirt as the tears trickled down her face.

"Thank you, Jeff," she quietly whispered. "I've wanted a dog for a long time, and I've always loved Chihuahuas. But ... they're expensive. I..."

"Hush," he whispered into her ear. "God has been good to us. Money isn't a concern right now. We want you to get the dog you chose, so, take your time. If you don't like anything the lady has, there are plenty of other places that sell puppies."

The Prime reached over to pull a couple Kleenex from a box on his desk. He had learned to keep plenty of tissue handy with as many women as there were in the Retreat – thus the two folded paper towels he kept in his back pocket for emergencies. Most of the tears the women shed were tears of happiness, but the tissues were useful no matter the reason for the waterworks.

As he dabbed at Hope's wet face with the tissue, he realized that the two of them were alone, all the girls having slipped out while his attention was focused on Hope. While he was contemplating that, she put a hand behind his neck, pulling him down to attach her lips to his. There wasn't any tongue, but the kiss was soft and meaningful, anyway. He dared to encircle her with his arms again, pulling her gently against him until she pulled back a half minute later, all the while he continued to keep a secure rein on his pheromones.

"Thank you," she said again as she broke the kiss, smiled sweetly at him and moved back a step, her eyes lidded and her expression unreadable.

"You're welcome. A couple of puppies should liven the place up, not to say anything about giving Billy something to do," he tried to joke. But the kiss had rattled him, and ... he had the distinct impression she realized it.

-------

In the distance, there was the sound of one of the big helicopters leaving the ski lodge, headed north over the deserted mountains. Fifteen miles from the Retreat, it changed to an easterly course, traveled a few miles, then later changed again, its destination: Winter Park.

-------

A little later, the little caravan consisting of Security and Jeff's Expedition turned from Highway 40 in Winter Park onto Lakota Trail. Diana sat beside Jeff in the front, while Jennie, Arlene, Hope, and of course, Kayla, were sitting farther back. The snowplows had recently plowed out the curving, tree-lined street, and it was reasonably clear of the two foot accumulation that appeared to be undisturbed under the trees that bordered the little road.

The homes – what few there were along here – were spaced well apart. Security had already told Jeff the house he was looking for was at the end of the cul-de-sac. A few minutes later, they approached a brick and redwood home set back in the trees.

"Nice," Diana commented as they turned into the drive. "This doesn't look like the home of someone who makes a little extra income selling puppies."

"Marcie said Mrs. Kimbrel's husband died a while back," Arlene repeated. "That's basically all I know about her."

"I hope Security didn't scare her," Diana worried as they stopped in the parking area near the house and got out of the Escalade.

"I doubt it," Jeff said. "They are well trained."

As they walked up the steps, a lady appearing to be in her sixties, with short, almost silver hair and a trim build opened her front door and stepped out on her porch. Arlene moved around her parents and put out her hand to shake as Mrs. Kimbrel said, "You must be the Matthews that Marcie just called me about. I'm Meg Kimbrel."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm Arlene Matthews," then motioning, "and this is my mom, Diana, and this is Hope, Jennie, and Kayla." Then turning to Jeff, "And this handsome guy is my father, Jeff Matthews. We hope our Security people didn't frighten you, Mrs. Kimbrel."

A look passed between Jeff and Diana because of the way Arlene had taken over the introductions.

Meg shook hands with the others, then turned back to Arlene. "Oh, no. They were polite as could be. Besides, I know who you people are. I guess everyone in Winter Park does," she added with a chuckle. "Come in. That wind has a bite to it today. And please call me Meg. Mrs. Kimbrel sounds too much like my mother."

As Jeff held the storm door open for the women, his glance took in his surroundings. A hundred feet or so to the right of the house, his excellent vision picked up a set of footprints in the snow under the shade of the evergreen trees. Even as he watched, the footprints began to disappear. Looks like they have come up with something to take care of the footprints they leave. Well done,  he thought as a smile touched his lips. There was a click in his ear of a mike being briefly keyed when the trooper realized his Colonel knew where he was.

Inside, as they were hanging up their coats, they were met by several adult Chihuahuas, all barking at the newcomers and seeming to have a wonderful time in the process.

"Hush," Meg said firmly, and there was instant silence. "They love to bark and pretend they're mighty watch dogs." As she ushered her guests to seats in her living room, she continued, "Actually they are great little watch dogs. They have excellent hearing and their sense of smell will rival that of any other dog I've ever seen. They love to bark at the delivery people, particularly the UPS man. They start barking when he's still a half mile away. He says he thinks the dogs can hear the racks squeaking in the truck, and identify him by the noise. However they do it, he hasn't made a single delivery here that they weren't waiting for him at the front door barking like crazy. He has a blast trying to sneak up on them."

They all turned to look as two female Chihuahuas came into the room with a number of puppies, more or less following. More or less, because several of the puppies were distracted by their littermates and began to roll and mock fight with each other.

"We're interested in two. A male and female," Arlene offered.

"Look at that one," Hope said, pointing at a gray puppy that was a little smaller than the others. Going to her knees to pet the momma first, Hope then reached out to pet the puppy she had commented on.

Jeff noticed Meg's face, but before he could ask, she spoke to Hope while shaking her head. "Why don't you choose one of the others? There's another female that color from the same litter right there," she said, pointing.

"Why not this one?" Hope questioned, pulling the pup into her arms, where it immediately whined and enthusiastically licked her face.

Meg seemed uncomfortable, but apparently decided to be truthful. "I always have the puppies checked, and this one – well, she was the last to be born, and is the runt of the litter. You'll notice that she's smaller than her littermates. The vet said she has a very distinct heart murmur and she probably wouldn't live very long. She suggested I put her down, but I'm not going to do that. She'll stay with us for as long as she lives. Why not choose that one there?" she said, pointing.

"I think I had rather have this one, anyway," Hope said.

"But Darling, she may only have a few weeks more to live – three or four months at best, according to the vet."

"I want her," Hope insisted, her eyes already brimming as she hugged the puppy.

Meg, worry on her face, continued, "There will be a heartache if you choose that one. She'll fall in love with you, and you with her. Chihuahuas will tie you to them with your heartstrings. They're loving little dogs. They will take every step you take around the house. They will sit with you in your chair while you watch TV, and they'll insist on sleeping curled against you at night. Part of it is because they're cold natured and like your heat, but most of it is because they love you. They have small bladders, though, and need to be taken outside frequently, particularly when they're puppies. They can't hold it as long as big dogs can. Also, you need to be extremely careful when a big dog comes near. A Chihuahua thinks he's many times bigger than he is, and he'll be jealous of any other dog coming around you. He might very well attack the big dog and get himself killed. Also, they aren't for small children, even though the Chihuahuas will love kids, but a child will pick him up and may drop him. They can't flip over in the air and land on their feet like a cat, so he might be severely hurt or killed. Have you had a Chihuahua before?"

Hope, still sitting on the floor, turned to face Mrs. Kimbrel. "I had a Lab, but he was killed by a car a few years ago. Don't worry; I'll take care of her. She won't die."

"Sweetie, my vet says she will. If your parents decide to let you keep her, I'll give her to you at no charge. But I think it would be better if you chose one of the others..."

"No. I want her. She won't die," Hope insisted as her eyes caught Jeff's.

The Prime cleared his throat. "We'll get her the best care possible, and my wife and I will accept the responsibility. She won't lack for anything. If Hope wants her, it's a done deal as far as I'm concerned."

Jeff didn't notice Hope's face at that instant, but her eyes softened as she glanced at him.

Meg was shaking her head. "I think you're making a mistake, but like I said, I won't charge you for her..."

"We'll pay full price for both," Jeff said with authority as he watched Arlene snuggling a coco colored puppy.

"Is that the one?" Diana asked her daughter as Arlene looked at the puppy with loving eyes. He bit her lightly on her nose, then licked it, causing Arlene to giggle.

"Yeah, he's the one," Arlene answered. "He thinks he's big. Spike would be a good name for him. If everybody else likes it, we'll name him that."

"He doesn't look like a Spike to me," Jeff laughed. "Spike sounds like a name for a big Bulldog or maybe a Mastiff – something like that."

"Exactly," his daughter laughed as she put the puppy on the floor. He whirled around, falling over in the process, then lunged at her leg, touched his nose to it, before dashing madly away, only to come back barking – his high-pitched yips not sounding at all like the terror he pretended to be.

"He's a good choice," Meg said, "and he's from the other litter. Oh, yes, you're going to need a kennel for them. I have a DVD that I made to give to my customers. It tells things that I've learned over the years about raising Chihuahuas, and it will help you to avoid some of the mistakes people make with little dogs."

"You don't have kennels to sell, do you?" Diana asked.

"Actually, I do. I buy them at the pet store and resell them to my customers for what the kennels cost me. That way, I make sure my customers have a kennel to train the pup. The kennel has an easily removable pan in the bottom. As you begin its training, you'll need to keep each puppy in a kennel unless he or she is right with you. And ... in the beginning, you need to take them out every hour until they learn what you're going outside for. Try to use the same place while they're learning. Once they understand why you are taking them out, you can go to two-hour intervals, then later to three or more as they become adults, but please remember, they're puppies now – and small dog puppies. They can't hold it for very long. Tell them they're good dogs, when they pee or do their business when you take them out. They won't understand what you say, but they'll soon recognize that you're praising them by the sound of your voice, so over emphasize it in the beginning. They're smart little dogs. When they mess up, tell them they're bad dogs, then take them outside and talk nice to them. Soon, they'll want to earn your praises.

"There are training aids and other methods, but that's the way I do it. They'll do for love or treats what they won't do for scolding. At least that's my opinion. Another thing: Chihuahuas have tremendous appetites. As they age, if you keep food down for them all the time, they'll eat themselves into obesity. And pay attention to what they can and can't eat. Several foods that people eat, such as chocolate, can be fatal to them, particularly over time. I don't charge for the DVD, but I suggest that you take time and view it. It might save you an occasional problem. I have also printed out a list of instructions that you can more easily refer to in the beginning. They already have their puppy shots, and I'll give you the papers on them. The DVD will explain how to get your AKC registration."

"Could we see the kennels?" Diana asked.

"Sure. I'll get them. They come folded up, but they're easily opened to their full size."

Meg was back in a couple of minutes with two unopened boxes containing kennels, the original price tag still on them. "I keep these so my customers will have one when they get home with their puppy. I'll also give you a small bag of the same puppy food they are used to. Remember, in the beginning, keep him or her in the kennel unless you're playing with the puppy or keeping it on your lap. It won't like peeing in the kennel and not being able to get away from the urine. That's the main reason the kennel is so small, that and the feeling of security the kennel provides for the puppy. When you remove the puppy from the kennel, immediately take him outside. It will soon learn to wait to go outside rather than pee where it has to live."

"How much do we owe you?" Jeff asked as he took his billfold out. "I presume you would rather have cash?"

When Meg told him, Arlene chuckled. "Dad, she just halved the price Marcie told me she charged. She's still trying to not charge us for the sick one."

"I can't charge you for a dog that's going to die..." Meg started.

"She isn't going to die," Hope insisted.

"Sweetheart, my vet is a reputable professional. I've used her for years. She said the pup's heart had serious problems, and being so young..."

"We'll take her, anyway," Jeff said as he reached over and put a hand on Meg's shoulder. "And we'll pay full price." He noted the price tag on the kennels and began counting out the money for the pups and kennels, adding another couple of hundred for the DVD and the woman's honesty.

Meg argued about the extra money, but the Matthews would not be swayed, telling her that her advice was well worth the extra.

Shortly after the family had left, Meg was on the phone telling Marcie what had happened. "They insisted on paying full price for a sick puppy, even though I told them exactly what the vet said. They even paid me extra for my training DVD. No one has ever offered to pay for it before."

As soon as the conversation with Marcie was over, Meg made the second call of many to come, telling her friends how nice the rich family from the top of the mountain was when they came to buy puppies. The rumor mill had much new information about the Matthews to disperse.

-------

Later, a mile away, a helicopter put down in a clearing to pick up Jeff's team. As the big machine roared into the sky, the footprints and marks left by the helicopter gradually disappeared. Inside the craft, the team was now visible. "He caught your ass," one of the team teased Carter on the helmet troop channel. "I saw him look right at you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," the big man said. "I was the nearest to him and expected it. Did you really think he wouldn't sense us, invisible or not? If you had been where I was, it would have been you he caught. Given another few seconds, the tracks would have been gone, but he saw them before they were. Still, none of us have ever been able to sneak up on him during training exercises. I don't think anyone ever will."

"Like I said, 'caught your ass, '" the original voice crowed, anyway.

"Might have something to do with those size fifteen boots you wear, Carter," another voice chimed in.

Carter just shut up and took the kidding, but there was a grin on his face. Hell,  he thought, I wouldn't be surprised if he knew it was me, invisible or not.

-------

As soon as they were in the SUV and had pulled back onto the street, Jeff handed Little One to Diana. Smiling, the Queen turned in her seat to hand the little alien to Hope.

"I told the lady that my puppy wouldn't die," Hope said with a smile as she accepted Little One.

Jeff glanced in the mirror. "I've already talked to her. Just put her near the pup. Might take her a few minutes to unravel what's wrong since she's never worked on a dog before."

Even as Jeff spoke, the blue beams touched the puppy and she relaxed into sleep.

"How long will it take?" Hope asked, a little worry obvious in her voice.

"No way to tell, but an AI like her or the Ship thinks at speeds that make our best computers seem like snails in comparison."

"Have you thought of a name yet?" Kayla asked from the back seat.

"Well," she answered Kayla, but turning to her sister, "remember the lady who lived down the street in Georgia, the one with the Miniature Dachshund? Her dog was named Sugar. I've always liked that name. Unless you don't like it, I think I'll name her that."

"Okay, by me," Jennie said. "Sugar was a nice dog. Too bad the lady moved out of state. I really liked her and her little dog."

They stopped at their regular grocery store in Winter Park. Hope anxiously turned to Arlene. "I'd like to go in. Could you hold Sugar and Little One for me?"

Arlene had just turned to get out, her mind focused on the things the puppies would need immediately. Seeing the expression on Hope's face, Arlene said, "Sure. I'll take care of the puppies." For an instant, she locked eyes with Diana, receiving a wink of acknowledgment in return. Diana would make sure Hope would remember everything the puppies needed.

Arlene sat in the SUV and watched the others go into the store. We'll need dog bowls – both for water and food. Leashes and harnesses. Sweaters and coats. Food, of course. I know they sell dog beds. We need to have several so there will always be one handy where they can curl up and sleep. Puppies sleep a lot, don't they? Oh, crap, will they remember everything? she worried.

She took a breath and let it slowly out. Mom said a Queen needs to guide her sister-wives, never boss them unless it's an emergency. All Dad's younger wives look to me for the small decisions, and I'm happy to take those concerns off Mom, but it's harder to guide someone else than to do it myself. However, the position the Ship has for me is the exact opposite. I'm just sixteen. It's not fair. Frustrated, she scanned the printout Mrs. Kimbrel had given them, then put the training DVD into the player as she absently petted Spike and Sugar.

-------

About halfway to the Retreat, Little One detached herself from Sugar, the blue aura surrounding the puppy cutting off. Hope petted Little One, then reached up to set her on Jeff's shoulder. "Please tell her thank you from me," Hope said, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

Jeff glanced at Hope's image in the mirror. After a second, "She said, 'You're welcome.'"

"So my puppy is well now? She doesn't have a heart condition any longer?"

"Yeah," Jeff replied as they turned onto the last section of county road. "I'll have her do, uh..."

"Spike," Arlene offered.

"Do Spike tonight," the Prime continued with a chuckle.

"Did she just fix her heart, or did she enhance her the way she did Billy?"

"She enhanced her, like she does everyone."

"Then my dog will live a very long time," Hope expounded, tears of joy trickling from her eyes.

Jeff hesitated for a second as he communicated with Little One, then, "Yeah. Like us, her body is now perfect."

Sugar, now fully awake, looked around her. Spying Spike in Arlene's lap, the little Chihuahua, yipped out a bark and jumped into Arlene's lap – well almost. Even though Arlene was sitting next to Hope, puppy-like, Sugar had misjudged and landed short, catching her muzzle on Arlene's leg and stumbling mostly between the two girls. The brief flash of pain was accompanied by a whimpering puppy that Hope snatched up. Bringing the dog to her face, the girl petted and made over the whimpering little dog as Arlene reached over to help sooth Sugar. Within seconds, Sugar was licking Hope's face and yipping her little bark, obviously bounding with energy.



-------

Chapter 183

When they parked in the back, the door of the Retreat opened and all Jeff's younger wives, who had stayed home, came hurrying out accompanied by Selina. As Hope and Arlene exited the SUV with the puppies snuggled under their coats, Arlene pointed to an area just past the pavement near the side of the Retreat. "Mrs. Kimbrel said we should walk them as soon as we got home," Arlene told the others as she and Hope opened their coats enough to give everyone a peek at the baby Chihuahuas.

Hurrying to the area Arlene had picked out, the younger wives and Selina watched as the puppies, now wearing their new sweaters just purchased in Winter Park, stood on the frozen ground near Hope and Arlene. "Pee-pee. Be a good boy," Arlene said as she crouched down and tapped the ground near Spike while Hope was doing the same with Sugar. Amazing everyone there, as if she understood, Sugar squatted to pee.

"Oh, you're not going to let a girl beat you, are you Spike?" Arlene said, her voice coaxing.

"Woof," Spike woofed out, but it was a tiny woof.

Trotting the short distance to where Sugar had peed, he smelled it, positioned himself over it and peed.

"Not going to let a girl mark his territory," Arlene laughed.

"But you're supposed to raise your leg, Spike," Hope giggled. "You pee like a girl."

Spike walked over to Sugar and jumped on her, obviously wanting to play. Sugar took off across the parking lot with Spike right behind her. They came to a sliding halt across a section of ice, straight into a clump of snow the plow and blower had missed.

"Spike. Come back here!" Arlene yelled while she and Hope tried to catch up with the puppies, but it was too late, the dogs were already wrestling in the snow. By the time Arlene and Hope got there, both puppies were shivering violently from the cold and wet. Heedless of the snow-covered puppies, each girl grabbed hers, putting it under her coat as Arlene exclaimed, "I can't believe they can run that fast."

Jeff had opened the hatch of the SUV as he, Diana and Jennie stood watching Arlene and Hope with the puppies. He bumped a shoulder lightly into Diana's, nodded to the puppies and said, "Looks like there is going to be a learning curve that might be a wee bit steeper than the one when we brought Billy home."

"Yeah," Diana laughed, "particularly when the puppies start whining for their mothers in the middle of the night." Then calling to the others, "Come help with the puppy supplies."

As the girls ran over and began grabbing packages, "I am not going to sleep with a puppy that might wet the bed – or worse," Jeff quietly added.

"Yes, Dear," Diana agreed, barely holding back the sarcasm.

Arlene and Hope had run to the door and were already inside with their shivering puppies. Quickly, they grabbed towels from the first bathroom they came to, stripped off the wet sweaters and vigorously rubbed Spike and Sugar with towels.

"Look at them," Jennie said as everyone stopped to watch the puppies being dried off, "I don't think I've ever seen an animal shiver that much. Didn't Chihuahuas originally come from Mexico? With that short hair, they must get cold pretty quickly."

With the dogs reasonably dry, both girls tucked them back under their coats to warm up. Jeff looked at Diana and winked. "I can see where this is going to get interesting."

When they were out of earshot, Diana replied, "That's what it's all about. A way to keep Hope busy and give her something to love."

"Where do we put this stuff?" the Prime asked, but he already had a feeling he knew.

"Most of it goes in our suite for now. The girls will separate out Hope's things."

"But I thought all the girls were going to own the one Arlene has," Jeff said, trying to not sound as if he were whining.

"The girls will sort everything out," Diana hedged.

"Yeah, right," Jeff said, putting his packages down by the bed as the others came in.

Soon, there were water and food bowls on the tile floor by the vanity sinks. Hope, Selina and Jennie had gone to Hope's suite to get everything she would need for Sugar set up.

"I thought Chihuahuas had ears that stood up," Nat said as Arlene handed Spike to her. "But they look cute half flopped over like that," she quickly added.

Arlene stood smiling as Nat, Nicki and Whitney cooed over the small puppy.

"According to Mrs. Kimbrel, these are Deerhead Chihuahuas. Their ears will stand up in a few weeks."

"How often do they have to be taken outside?" Whitney asked.

"Every hour unless they're asleep at night, at least for the first week or two," Arlene replied. "They need to stay in the kennel or under constant supervision until they understand that they need to go outside to pee and do their business. We bought some Piddle Pads, but Mrs. Kimbrel said they should be used only for emergencies."

"Emergencies?" Nicki asked, looking hard at Arlene.

"Yeah, like if we were gone from home for a while and wouldn't be here to take them out on time, or something like that. I'll take care of Spike for the first night, then we'll work out a schedule if you guys want to help train him."

As his younger wives continued to talk about the puppies, Jeff left to go find Diana.

-------

(To refresh your memory about Tina Hamilton, Frank Wainwright's fiancée, check Chapter 85 of Book 3)

SUNSET, SATURDAY EVENING, NOVEMBER 8

Tina stood at the top of the stairs on the second floor just out of sight of the crowd in the living room below. Somehow, her mother and father had accepted that she was marrying Frank Wainwright, a man who already had one new wife. Tina knew that Jeff, Diana, Frank and Margaret had spent some time alone with her parents after they came in by helicopter yesterday, but she never expected that her mom and dad could be convinced. She had hoped they wouldn't cause a scene when they found out about the multiple-partner marriage, but she had been very, very afraid things would go wrong.

Whatever the four had told her parents, her mom and dad had hugged and kissed her before her father asked, "Are you sure about this, Baby? Really sure?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'm very, very sure. They both love me, and I love them. I'm going to be with Frank and Margaret forever."

"Just remember that we love you, too," Tina's mother had said as tears trickled down her cheeks. "If this is what you really want, we'll do our best to understand."

Tina's thoughts drifted on as she waited for her cue to start down the stairs. Maybe they're just glad I'm away from Gregg,  she thought. Anyone is better than that prick. How in the world did I ever trust him enough to let him drug me? I hope and pray there aren't any copies of that video that weren't found and destroyed. I would just die if my parents saw that. Then again, that ass did one thing right. He brought me, however inadvertently, to my future husband.

Oh, Frank, I love you so much, but how could you fall in love with me? My family has never had much money. I've never belonged in the circles you live in. I never dreamed I would marry a wealthy man, let alone someone who is as wonderful as you.

She looked at the top of the beautiful stairway, only a small sample of the elegance and beauty of the big building. I'm not used to this. I'll never be used to wealth like this. Yet Jeff and Frank wear jeans and tee shirts here in the Retreat most of the time, as all the Alphas do. Margaret and Diana, along with all the women here, dress down. Everyone seems to dress for comfort, not just to have a wealthy appearance. Frank and Margaret have closets full of very nice clothes, as do the others, I suppose, and my two spouses-to-be have bought me beautiful things, too, but when they work in their office here, even when they video-conference, they both wear casual clothes. When they go to the main office, they wear business clothing, of course. Margaret tells me that Diana and Jeff have an agreement that they will never let their wealth go to their heads, that they will never act like so many rich people do. Margaret also says that she worked her way up in the company, and Frank was raised by his parents to have a strong work ethic.

I've always worked. I even had a part-time job when I was in high school. But, now I have a credit card with no limit. I can't even imagine that. The only times I've used it is to buy a few inexpensive things on the net. All I want is Frank and Margaret. She says we're going shopping when we get back from our honeymoon, and she is going to buy me a complete wardrobe. I can't imagine what. I have plenty of beautiful things now. I don't need anything else. Honeymoon. They've put off their honeymoon for a couple of weeks until I could marry them and go with them. Gosh, thinking about marrying them sounds so odd, but then again, it sounds so right, too. But, I'm scared. I don't know how to act around rich people. I'm afraid I'll embarrass Margaret and Frank. Margaret just laughed when I mentioned it. She says she doesn't associate with rich people who think they're better than other people. She admits there are a lot of them, but she says she doesn't have to tolerate assholes, rich or not. She's been so good to me. How can she even think of sharing her man with someone like me?

I'm glad they've waited on their honeymoon for me, though. Now, we're going to that island that Frank bought Margaret. An island,  for goodness sake. He bought an island, and it's big enough to have a runway for their, uh, our jet, as Frank has repeatedly reminded me. I know they love me, even though I don't understand it. And Frank ... when he kissed me that first time, I almost fainted. I've never felt anything like that in my life. When he makes love to me, I just about die. I never knew anything could be like that, and Margaret says it will be even better after Jeff and Diana marry us.

The music interrupted her musings as it changed to the first bars of the bridal march. Tina took a shaky breath. Don't stumble and fall down these stairs. Daddy is waiting for me at the bottom to walk me down the aisle. Steady, girl. One step at a time. They expect you to take your time. You're only going to do this once in your life.

As she stepped from the landing onto the stairs, the full living room was revealed below her. Who are these people? I insisted that Margaret not bring back all those people that came for her wedding. Look at all those uniforms. I didn't think Jeff's team or Security would be here for me. Oh, my, everyone just stood. Don't fall down, girl. One step at a time, just like you practiced. This is your day. I'll soon be Mrs. Tina Wainwright. Margaret said I could have my name legally changed as soon as we get back from the island.

As she turned the gentle curve of the stairs, There's Daddy. Just a few more steps and I can hold onto his arm, and I really need to. She managed to focus on Frank, Margaret, Jeff and Diana as they stood on the small stage waiting for her. Oh, Margaret is so beautiful. How could Frank ever want me? He's so handsome in that tux. If I get through this, Margaret and I are going to love him to death tonight.

"Daddy," she quietly said, as her father held his arm so she could easily take it, "he's going to be my husband, and Margaret is going to be my sister-wife."

"Yeah, Baby," her father choked out, the sparkle of unshed tears threatening to leak from his eyes, and the lump in his throat growing by the minute.

They passed a six-year-old bridesmaid who stood smiling, holding her kitten. Somehow, that brought tears of joy to Tina's eyes. Selina had asked her if she could hold Billy during the ceremony, worried that he would teleport around and cause trouble if she didn't. Tina had laughingly agreed. I bet there haven't been many brides who have had a bridesmaid holding a kitten to keep him from teleporting. Her smile got bigger. I love this place. I love these people. I love ... my family.

As the music subsided, she stood to the left of Frank, with Margaret to his right, the three facing the Prime and his Queen.

-------

Jeff managed to put up two of the extra chairs, but that was it. He had assumed that he and the other Alphas would do that, but both Security and his team had made short work of it. He managed to beat them to the back door where he shook hands with everyone as they left, thanking them for supporting the weddings.

Lieutenant Mayfield was the last to leave. When Jeff thanked him, Mayfield smiled and said, "Colonel, we've certainly enjoyed being here, but now that we have been involved with the marriages, we know more about you and your family. The more we know, the better we can protect you."

"Still," Jeff said, "we appreciate your going the extra mile."

Mayfield chuckled, "It is an easy 'extra mile.' The food was delicious, and you and your wives are gracious hosts."

-------

Jeff found Van helping to return the extra food from the reception to the kitchen. "If you don't mind, let's find a quiet place and continue our conversation," the Prime told him.

The sound of the big riding vacuums and the women putting away wedding decorations made it obvious the quiet place Jeff was looking for would not be the living room. "We'll find an alcove," Jeff started just as Jennie, on another vacuum, turned the corner heading in their direction.

"Well, maybe not," he chuckled. "Lab office."

A little later, seated facing each other, the men talked about the wedding for a moment, then, "I have an idea about farming that I need to go over with you. What you said about the co-op and your organic farming made me start thinking about something that happened on Halloween night."

Van raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Jeff chuckled and went on. "Oh, it had little to do with Halloween. We stopped by one of the country churches outside Winter Park to participate in their truck or treat. Are you familiar with the concept?"

"Sure," Van said. "We do the same thing. We all gather at the church grounds with our Halloween treats so the kids can have their Halloween in safety. No running across roads in the dark or risking their getting spiked candy from some sicko. We know everyone there."

"Right," Jeff agreed. "Well, anyway, the church had a little hotdog stand, but Diana and I noticed they were doing very little business even though it was after time for supper. We just couldn't imagine the stand not doing a thriving business with all those kids there."

Van just sat looking at him, probably already suspecting the reason for the poor sales. "Anyway," Jeff continued, "we know the pastor from his helping out at Carla's harvest. To make a long story short, the farm families had plenty of food at home to feed their children, but little money to buy extras, even to the point of hotdogs. Obviously money wasn't just short; it was very scarce."

Van just nodded.

Jeff cleared his throat, wondering if he might be getting into something that would be over his head. "You said that organic has turned your farm around. I guess it's none of my business, but..."

"Adriana and I are doing better financially than ever before," Van offered. "Some of it is because we, more or less, got in on the ground floor. Buying into the co-op gives us a guaranteed outlet for everything we sell. Heck they even buy our honey. We're constantly working to find ways to produce something unique, or find ways to make another area on the farm make money for us. The bees help pollinate the crops, then provide some excellent honey for us to sell.

"I'm fortunate to be married to a very intelligent and ... tenacious woman. Tenacious in that she continues to research organics and experiment. Without her, I would have given up when we first started to go organic. She worked her job in town so we would have money to live on, then spent time every day helping me. Jeremy was still with us then, and when he wasn't in school, he spent every minute he could helping us, as well. Paulette was too little to help when we first got into organics, but she's always been a good kid and easy to take care of. Now that's she's fourteen, she's a lot of help, both to me and her mother."

"How about your neighbors?"

"Some have changed over to organic farming, but most were several years behind us. I think they waited to see if we made a go of it before they risked it. Ryan and Lillian O'Donnell, on the next farm over from ours, went organic a year after we did, but ... he was in the Guard. He was called up, and died in Iraq. She's had to hire help to keep her farm operating. She's working herself to death. Paulette goes over several times a week to help, and Adriana and I have, too, of course, but our farm is a full-time job. Lillian is talking about selling out, but the best offer she's received is from one of the big canneries, and she says she won't sell to them. With all she's spending to hire labor, we're afraid she's going to lose everything."

Jeff made a mental note, but just said, "That's tragic. Maybe something will happen and she can make it."

"Yeah," Van said with a sigh. "The four of us used to spend a lot of time together. Ryan was a nice guy, and Lillian is a great person, too."

There was a moment of quiet as the men sat thinking their separate thoughts, then, "If I could set up a meeting, would you be willing to talk to a group of farmers from the area I mentioned?"

"Me?" Van said. "You mean about organic?"

"Yeah."

"Orator, I'm not," Van said with a chuckle. "I'm just a farmer."

Jeff sat up a little straighter, catching Van's eye. "I don't think you're 'just' anything. You're an Alpha. In addition, it is apparent you have a good education, and you know your subject. You haven't had any problem talking to me, and I suspect you've convinced at least some of your neighbors to try organic, and reading between the lines, you've implied that they've become financially viable. True?"

"Well, yeah. They, like Adriana and I, had a rough couple of years during the changeover, but they're all doing well now."

"So, maybe the farmers I'm talking about could do the same thing. They're obviously struggling now. Maybe they need to consider where the trend seems to be headed. Having a timely and guaranteed outlet for their goods is an undeniably good thing. If I set it up, will you talk to them about organic? If they follow your lead, maybe they can become financially viable again."

Van was shaking his head. "The county agent has videos about organic farming, and he lectures..."

"And nobody really believes a thing he says, at least, not enough to risk their farm to try it out," Jeff interrupted. "They need a farmer, a successful farmer, who has made the change and survived. They'll believe you."

"And assuming that I did this – which is a big assumption – and some of these people tried this, and ... went under. What then? Jeff, you've got to realize that Adriana and I almost didn't make it. We survived on her income from town. For a couple of years, I had to watch my son and daughter go to school wearing old clothes, and I had to see my wife, exhausted, as she worked alongside me after working forty hours a week in town. We spent a lot of time on our knees praying, before things began to look up. We came out of it, and our farm continues to be more profitable every year, but Jeff, we almost lost it all in the process."

"From what the pastor tells me, there are a number of farmers in his area that are already on the brink of losing everything."

Exasperated, worried, Van tried again, "Jeff, we had some money in savings, and some stock when we started this. Without a cushion, they'll never make it through the change."

"But if they had a cushion," Jeff insisted. "What then?"

Van started to respond, but hesitated, suddenly understanding that Jeff was very serious about this.

"How much time would you need to prepare... should you agree to lecture to these people?"

"No lecture," Van corrected. "They're never going to accept a lecture from an outsider. Talk."

"How long to prepare your talk, then? They need to see what you're talking about. Pictures, videos. I can send out a production company or some such to be at your disposal – make a professional video of your farm documenting the way you do things. Something to backdrop your lec... , uh, talk."

"No telling how much that would cost..."

"My accountant will probably find a way to write most of it off as some sort of community service or something. I'm not worried about the cost. Look, you met Carla and Jessica, right?"

"Sure. Fred's wives."

"Yeah, well, she almost lost her farm from hospital bills accumulated when her husband was sick for so long, then eventually died. She'll be profitable again this next year, but she hasn't had the same problems that you had. Then again, even though she isn't doing much organic farming, she mainly raises crops that support her herd of cattle. Oh, she sells some things, but a major portion of her income is from her cattle – or will be when her herd is back to maximum. She's in the process of resupplying that herd now, and she has a plentiful supply of feed for them. But a lot of the farmers in the area rely almost solely on farming, and they're obviously not doing very well.

"I guess I should confess," Jeff continued with a grin. "I watched a video a few weeks ago about organic farming, so I was very interested when you mentioned organic, and being already concerned because of what happened Halloween, I wanted to talk to you about the concept. I'm not positive the area farmers will be receptive to changing, but from what the pastor told me, they're definitely struggling financially."

"There's something else," Van said. "Not of a big consequence to a lot of people, but it was to Adriana and me. Obviously, you can't make pets out of the animals you're going to send to the slaughterhouse, but still, seeing them crammed together in a feedlot all their lives bothered us – a lot. But we couldn't go back to the methods my father and mother used. Range feeding beef and hogs just didn't produce the revenue we needed to survive. But when disease caused us to put more and more money into antibiotics and such, not to mention the animals we were losing, I got fed up to the point of doing something. In the end, that old boar did me a favor, I guess.

"Problem is, I've expanded as much as I can, and ... even if I had more land, I would have to hire more than just the part-time help I've been using. And that brings up another subject."

Jeff raised an eyebrow and looked at Van. "And..."

"I, uh, almost asked if you were serious about the age ... uh, regression thing. But Diana looks so young, and so does your mother-in-law."

"You and Adriana will, too. You just need to keep in mind what you would like to look like. I don't want to look like I'm twenty. I suppose it's the credibility thing. Diana, however, young looking or not, projects confidence and maturity, maybe most women do. But whatever age you choose, you're not going to get old, and your health is never going to fail."

Van cleared his throat and looked at the floor between them for a moment, obviously embarrassed, "Paulette wants to marry Jeremy, but dammit, she's not quite fifteen. Surely, I can make her hold off until she's sixteen, but I'm not positive of even that, particularly since she's seen Jeremy's wedding. I'm fairly certain the only reason, or at least the main one, that keeps Adriana from giving her approval now, is that her nest as she puts it, will be empty. But ... after what you told us about living so much longer, she is trying to convince me that we could ... restock the nest, as she puts it."

Jeff couldn't help a chuckle. "Restock?"

"Yeah. Oh, in the beginning, she made a joke out of it. But we've been together over twenty years, and it was obvious that she was testing the waters. Testing or not, she was dead serious, though. Adriana wants another child – no, that's not quite right. She wants 'more' kids. In a way, I guess I do too, but there are things to consider other than just our health and age – both of which have been taken care of, thanks to Little One and you. But I'll lose one heck of a lot of help on the farm while Adriana is pregnant, and the kids will have to be several years old before she can again be much help to me. Paulette can help after school, as she does now, but all this basically means I'll have to hire at least one full-time man, in addition to the part-time help I've been using at planting and harvest time. That's going to cut into our profits – way into them. I think we can make it, but again, I've expanded all I can with the land I have. Lots of things to consider before we decide to have more kids."

Jeff waited for a moment, then, "Maybe you need another wife?" he said just to watch the shock on Van's face.

Van stared at the Prime for a second, then grinned. "Yeah, right. I'm sure that will go over with Adriana like the proverbial lead balloon."

But Jeff wasn't laughing. "You might be surprised. Now that the two of you have been enhanced, chances are she'll be a lot more receptive to the idea, particularly now that she has seen several multiple spouse marriages."

"Jeff, I love my wife..."

Jeff grinned at him. "And I don't love mine?"

"Well, I didn't mean to imply that," Van answered seriously. "I just think that Diana is probably a lot more open minded about the subject than Adriana is. Just because we're brother and sister, doesn't mean..."

"Nor did I mean to imply that, and you know it. But, I've seen Adriana and Diana talking. Knowing Diana, I suspect this has already come up in the conversation."

"Well, I don't..." Van started.

"Do you like titty milk?" Jeff interrupted, deadpan.

"What? Well, I..."

"I saw your eyes focus on Diana's top last night – on the wet spot where she leaked through."

"Jeff, I apologize if..."

"I'm not pissed. Please, just answer my question."

Van tried to think how to reply. Shit, I saw the wet spot and let my eyes remain on her breasts too long. How do I tell him I wasn't just ogling his wife, but was remembering. "Oh, shit, Jeff. You'll never believe me..."

"Just answer honestly, please."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. When I noticed Diana, I swear to you I just remembered Adriana. It was always a turn on when her breasts were full of milk. I know some guys think a guy nursing his wife is sick, but I for darn sure don't. I enjoyed the times she breast-fed our kids. Honest, Jeff, I wasn't thinking anything bad about Diana."

"Want Adriana to lactate again?"

Van let out a sick chuckle. "Yeah. That will go a long way toward my letting her talk me into having another child, sick as it may seem to some."

"Well, I damn sure don't think it's sick," Jeff laughed. "I love the fact I have three lactating wives."

"Three?" Van said, wondering.

"Yeah, Susan, Arlene and Diana."

"But how could..." Van began.

"There are, what we've come to term, natural Queens, but the way we understand it, a Queen can also be formed when a mate decides to add another woman to her Alpha's marriage. It has something to do with her mindset, and we think the Alpha's pheromones are also involved as well. In addition, we've begun to suspect that the women, or at least the Queen of each marriage, has her own pheromones. But we're too new at this, and the information we have comes through Little One, and that from a race of beings that are similar to us – not identical. Bottom line, if Adriana decided to add another mate to your marriage, she'll begin lactating. There are also other things that happen to a Queen, and ... her Alpha."

Van stretched his long legs out and stared at his shoes as if he suddenly saw something of interest there. Still looking down, he commented almost to himself, "If I hadn't seen that little alien, and been in that ... starship out back, and ... I didn't feel better than I've ever felt in my life, I would never believe any of this." Finally, "Jeff, this is Adriana we're talking about. There is no way she's going to accept me being with another woman – none. She'll have my balls on a platter if I even mention it."

Jeff looked at the worried Alpha before him. "If she did, though, chances are she would become your Queen ... with the side benefits that come with the ... position. Shortly, she's going to find out what living with an enhanced Alpha entails. Even with her own body being enhanced, you still have the orgasm switch. She'll have more intense orgasms, by far, than she's ever imagined, and a mate whose dick will get up any time he wants it to. Plus, she has already been exposed to several successful multiple marriages. You can bet the concept has already crossed her mind. Just sit back and wait. You might be surprised, and if she asks Diana ... Well, she is the reason I have fourteen wives. She got the idea through Little One that an Alpha's status is shown to some extent by the number of mates he has. I think that's bullshit, but I've learned a long time ago to just say 'yes dear' when she gets her mind set on something. Besides, I love titty milk," he finished with a chuckle.



-------

Chapter 184

Adriana had just walked into their bedroom where Van was propped against a big pillow on the bed, reading a book. "That took a while," he said, putting the book on the bedside table. "I was beginning to think you had decided we weren't going to make love tonight."

Adriana slipped her robe off, laid it on a chair by the bed, and sat beside her husband. He reached to cup a breast as their lips met for a leisurely kiss. She eventually pulled back and gently took his hand from her boob, holding the hand in her lap. "I'm always ready to make love with you – particularly tonight. I'm beyond ready, but we need to talk for a minute. Okay?"

Van pulled his hand free to tweak a nipple, but eventually sighed and leaned back against his pillow. "Trouble?" he asked.

Adriana shook her head, clasping her hands in her lap as she thought for a moment. "No. Not that kind of trouble, but, well ... I was with Paulette so long because she's..."

" ... Upset about her brother making love with his two wives just down the hall," Van offered.

Adriana let out a soft chuckle. "You're partially right. She's upset, but not the way you've implied. She bitched me out about not having already bought her a vibrator. She's emphasized that it should be a clitoral one. She doesn't want to risk anything going inside her and possibly damaging her hymen. That belongs to her brother."

Adriana reached over to kiss him on the tip of his nose. "Are you horny?"

"Wha..."

"Simple question. Are you horny?"

"Hell, yes. You know I am. And since Little One enhanced..."

"Exactly," Adriana interrupted. "Our daughter is practically climbing the walls. She knows her brother is screwing the brains out of his women just down the hall from us. She's heard what Connie and Denise said happened on their wedding night. Trust me; you should be proud of our son. A woman, not enhanced by Little One, would have been in the hospital if half what they describe happened – half.

"Baby, I know you're not for her marriage right now, but our daughter is having some serious problems."

"Maybe Little One will tone down her sex urges if Jeff asks her to..."

"Van. Would you like to have your sexual urges 'toned down?'"

"Uh, okay, bad idea. But there's masturbation. I assume she..."

"The only time she can do it – at least after we arrived here – is late at night, and I doubt if that is going to satisfy her before she becomes too sore to touch herself. Crap, why haven't I already bought her a vibrator?" she asked herself aloud. There was a long pause, then, "Honey, she'll be fifteen next week..."

"Yeah, and we don't want our son to go to jail, do we?" Van broke in.

"Oh, come on, Van, she looks every bit of sixteen. We are darn sure not going to broadcast it, anyway. Most women would give their right arm for boobs like hers. But her adult looks aren't something I want to talk about right now. We could have her stay at home except on the weekends, just like we talked about. Paulette is far from stupid, besides, she's always been secretive; she'll keep her mouth shut, and she'll have a very good reason to do so. Van, she's been enhanced. Diana says their enhancement came about slowly, and even then, she and Arlene had some problems. She says that Little One now does everything almost at once. Well, she says we'll have other things that we will notice over time, but our bodies have become 'perfect machines' in a very short period of time.

"If Paulette feels anything like I do, I know she needs a man – badly. And ... she's not yet all the way through puberty, I suspect. I had you at her age, and I still jilled off a lot more than you ever knew."

"You did?" Van said, raising an eyebrow. "That's sexy."

"Well, I can almost guarantee our daughter is in there right now doing just that. Does that turn you on? Jeff is married to his daughter."

But Van was shaking his head. "Not a turn on for me. I have no sexual urges or fantasies about my daughter..."

"For your sister, though, I hope. Pot calling the kettle black, maybe?"

Van was shaking his head. "No. I'm not belittling Jeff – far from it. But I don't have any urges toward my daughter – none. My sister now..." he chuckled, slipping a hand between her legs to trail a finger along her slit. She hissed in a breath as the finger passed gently over her clit.

He leaned up to take a nipple in his mouth while his finger continued to circle her clit, then inched down to push inside her wet sheath.

"Oh," she hissed in as he curled the finger to tap against the top of her tunnel, unerringly hitting her G-spot. "Oh, shit. You're good at that," she mumbled as she pushed her breast hard against his mouth. "Suck, Husband. Suck hard."

-------

Paulette, wearing only her panties, had turned the light out in the sitting room, then holding her breath, she had slowly pushed down on the door handle to her parents' bedroom, praying the door wouldn't squeak. It didn't.

After what seemed like ages, she had the door open the barest crack, her ear glued to the gap. Her hearing had always been good. Now that she was enhanced, it was even better. Her parents, knowing that the bedroom was virtually soundproof, weren't making any effort to be quiet, having not the slightest idea that their daughter was listening at the partially-open door.

As Paulette realized that her dad was fingering her mother, the teenager slipped her panties off. Hearing what was going on in the bedroom, she circled a fingertip around her clit, gradually coming closer and closer. When she touched her little bud, she nearly screamed out at the heightened sensation. Trembling from almost being caught, she slumped against the wall for a moment. A few seconds later, she grabbed up her panties and stuffed them partway into her mouth, biting down on the material. Her ear back at the door, she listened to her parents as her finger gently circled her clit.

Her mother's sigh and Paulette touching her clit at the same time, caused an orgasm to come charging near. She waited, trying to hear and put what she heard into a visualization of what was going on in the bedroom.

"Uhhhh, that thing is big," Adriana whimpered at the same time Van let out a deep sigh.

Paulette rubbed her clit hard for a few seconds, then went rigid as the hovering orgasm crash-landed. Only luck kept her from falling against the door, which would surely have dumped her ignominiously into her parents' bedroom. Instead, she slid down the door facing to land jarringly on her butt, then flat onto her back – not that she noticed any of it. The orgasm lasted for a good thirty seconds, her body twitching as she bit down on her panties to keep from screaming out, her hand clasped over her pussy.

Shaken by the intensity that was far beyond anything she had previously experienced, she lay there panting as she stared at the ceiling, only vaguely aware of where she was.

-------

"Oh, Baby, you're tight," Van whispered into his wife's ear as he slowly slid his cock back and forth in her sheath.

"That thing is bigger," she managed, "and it was plenty big enough to start with. I'm not going to be able to walk in the morning," she got out, her voice rising in pitch as her next orgasm washed over her.

Van's pace picked up, his cock slamming into her. He held hard in her for a couple of seconds, then drew back and slammed forward again, his body trembling as his cock spewed semen against her cervix. Her scream brought Paulette back to the world, her finger again working madly at her clit.

-------

An hour later, as Van staggered to the bathroom to relieve himself and get a washcloth and towel for his wife, Paulette struggled to her feet, quietly pulled the door fully closed, then made her way unsteadily to her bedroom. Inside, she put the tube of lubricant in the very back of the bedside table drawer, grabbed a hand mirror and looked at her red and swollen clit and pussy lips.

The lubricant helped,  she decided. I'm going to have to thank Arlene for telling me where it was. I'm already sore, though. No telling how bad it would have been without the lubrication.

She slumped face down across her bed, asleep in an instant, her pretty butt still naked, Paulette having left her panties by her parents' bedroom door.

THE MATTHEWS' SUITE

Jeff and his women had made love and were now drifting off to sleep, when ... a series of bloodcurdling howls pierced the quiet sound of Rain on a Metal Roof that was the current background for the night. Various noises came from once-sleeping women, some of those sounds with expletives attached, plus a sigh from Jeff as almost everyone sat up. A groggy Arlene slid out of bed as she fumbled for the remote to bring the room lights up a little.

"But I just took you out, and you did everything."

Spike stood to wag his tail and whine at her.

"He doesn't want to go out; he wants his momma," Jeff grumped as he turned to his belly and put a pillow over his head, holding it tight against his ears.

Arlene went over and opened the kennel, taking the whimpering puppy into her lap and hugging him. Spike responded by wagging his tail and whining while trying to jump up and lick her face. "Shhhh," she whispered as she offered a fuzzy puppy toy that squeaked when pressed in the right place.

Muttering, Jeff grabbed the remote and turned the lights back down. Arlene lay on the floor and curled around the puppy until he went back to sleep. Carefully, she put him into the kennel, quietly closed the door and crept back into bed. She was just drifting off when a howl that gradually increased in volume and pitch went on and on as it ripped the soothing background sounds to bits.

"Put that damn dog in bed with you," Jeff mumbled from under his pillow. "Just don't let him piss on me."

Arlene jumped up, not bothering to bring the lights up, grabbed the puppy out of his kennel, ran back to the bed and snuggled him against her. Fifteen minutes later, when everyone was again soundly asleep, Spike crawled over Arlene and snuggled against Jeff. With a deep sigh, the tiny Chihuahua, now safe, drifted into sleep.

Forty-five minutes later when Arlene's watch beeped, she felt frantically for the missing puppy. Finally finding him snuggled between Jeff's arm and his body, she carefully lifted the puppy into her arms. Shortly, Spike's sweater in place, the half-asleep, teenage wife, still nude, but wrapped in her big coat and wearing her bunny shoes, staggered down the hall to the back door with her happy burden.

Back in bed a little later, Arlene asleep, the puppy again crawled over her to burrow against the Prime. Letting out a tiny sigh, the little canine was asleep almost instantly.

-------

Van awoke to warmth and a sucking sensation on his throbbing dick. Managing to open one eye, he looked down to meet the pretty brown eyes of his wife looking back at him. He couldn't be certain that she had a grin on her face, due to his dick in her mouth at the time, but her eyes were sparkling as if she were proud of herself. She would suck his dick at the drop of a hat, but she seldom started his day out that way. She wants something, he thought as he smiled back at her.

She pulled her mouth off for a second to say, "Let it go, Lover."

He relaxed and concentrated on the sexy sight of his woman with a dick in her mouth. A few minutes later, his body began to shake. She gently dragged her nails under his balls and sucked harder. He clenched his jaws tight to keep from yelling out as his balls tightened against the base of his dick and he spewed his come into her mouth.

She continued to swallow until he was done, then licked up the last of his spend as it seeped from the head of his cock. "A good way to start the day, with my husband's sperm in my belly," she cooed.

When he was thoroughly clean, she slid up beside him. "We need to talk," she whispered as she gently bit his earlobe.

His chuckle followed on the heels of her comment. "I'm always ready to hear what you have to say after you've done that for me – as you well know," he teased.

"Might as well have you in a good mood," she laughed. "Besides, that's something I love to do. I almost always have a small orgasm when your cock pulses into my mouth."

"The shit is getting deep," he teased, looking over the side of the bed.

She whacked him on a shoulder, laughing. "Okay, so I believe in behavior modification. Anything wrong with that?"

"Not as long as you suck my dick to do it, there's not," he laughed. "All right, Wife, I'm in as good a mood as I'll ever be, thanks to that great blowjob. What's up?"

"I want a baby?"

"Oh," he said, as if her comment was totally unexpected. "Biological clock ticking, or something?"

The whack on his shoulder was a lot harder that time.

"I'm serious, " she grumbled.

"So am I," he chuckled as he leaned over to suck a thick nipple into his mouth.

"Be serious," she admonished. "I want..."

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Van," she squealed, her knee almost hitting his balls as she crawled across him to plaster her naked body to his, her lips seeking those of her mate.

When she eventually pulled back, "I'll ask Jeff to get Little One to do whatever she has to."

Adriana sat up, then reached back to guide his again-hard cock to her entrance, sitting down hard on him. Her heightened excitement as she realized she would soon be pregnant, plus the enhancement, not to mention the throbbing cock going inside her, brought on her first scream of orgasm even as his cock slammed into her cervix.

-------

Paulette entered the sitting room and immediately saw her panties laying by her parents' bedroom door. She sucked in a breath as her heart skipped a beat. Dashing across the room, she grabbed them up and hurried to her bedroom to put them away. Back a moment later and looking at her watch, she thought, If we don't get a move on, we won't be to the kitchen in time to help with breakfast.

She started to sit and wait, but wondered if her mom and dad had gotten into a conversation and had forgotten the time. They had certainly done it before. Without further thought, she walked over, rapped on their bedroom door and opened it to stand frozen as her mother, breasts swaying and bouncing, thrashed about on Van's cock. The daughter stepped back, eased the door closed, then ran to her bedroom, her hand already jammed into the waist of her pants, the scene in her parents' bedroom burned into her mind.

-------

Van and Adriana had showered after they made love last night, but now they were sweaty again and smelling of sex. They both took a "turn around" shower. Basically jumped in, turned around, and jumped out to dry off. Adriana put her long hair in a ponytail and stared at her image. "I look fresh fucked," she worried aloud as she stared at herself in the mirror.

"Yeah, you do look beautiful," Van quietly said, coming up behind his wife to reach around her and gently hold her breasts for a moment. "Get dressed, Hussy," he teased, popping her on the ass. "No one around here will care. Heck, they probably did the same thing this morning."

"Oh, crap. We're not going to be there in time to help much," Adriana worried as she snatched on her clothes. "I wonder if Paulette is ready."

As the two stepped into the sitting room, Paulette was sitting on the couch, her face still somewhat flushed and her arms crossed over her breasts as she mostly concealed her nipples that seemed to be trying to defy her thin bra.

"Ready?" Adriana asked.

"Sure," their daughter responded as she avoided eye contact with her dad.

"We have something to tell you later today." At Paulette's inquisitive look, "Something good," Adriana added.

-------

Everyone in the Retreat braved the cold to wave goodbye to Frank, Bill and their wives. Bill, always after more rotary hours, sitting right seat, turned the copter shortly after takeoff so that everyone on the honeymoon trip could wave to the family. They were off to Boulder to pick up the jet, then on to the island.

Jeff, standing with Arlene snuggled to his left side and Diana snuggled to his right, observed, "Tina went from a struggling young woman to a billionaire in a couple of weeks. That has to be some kind of record."

Diana chuckled as she turned more toward her husband. "Somehow, I think all that money had zero to do with it, and I know you do too, my Husband. When Frank tossed that asshole down the hall and saved Tina, she fell in love with him forever, and Frank with her. As we've said over and over, Alphas, particularly enhanced Alphas, bond with their mates almost instantly. Too bad the rest of the human race doesn't do that."

As they turned to walk back to the building, she continued, "Just think what happens in our 'modern' society. A girl usually has several 'lovers' in high school. Then in college, she generally adds quite a few to that. Somewhere along the line, most young women get married, but by then, how many so-called 'lovers' has she had? She's used merchandise under any definition of the term – and the men are as well. No wonder so many marriages fail. But with an enhanced Alpha marriage, the woman is mentally bonded to her mate, and he to her."

They were quiet for a moment, then, "I literally hate what Arlene and I did to you, my Love. I can't even imagine how much we hurt you. But now, someone would have to kill us, or at least render us unconscious, before anything like that could happen again. That's the way marriage should be. And I know you're the same way – even though you don't have to be."

"Di, I made love to Laura before I, uh, we married her, and..."

" ... And I called and told you to. At no time did you touch anyone that I didn't give my full love and permission. Even then, you married all of us. A Prime is allowed..."

Jeff abruptly stopped, then turned to face her directly. "Where did you get this? I was thoroughly satisfied with you two, yet you, well the two of you, instigated bringing other women into our household. You set yourselves up with rules that you say don't apply to me. I told you some of the things that Little One told me, but you've ... added to what I said."

"Added or not, it's logical, and I think Little One will agree, if you dare ask her. Not that you've ever gone out looking for other women," Diana added, "even though I've encouraged it. We don't mind your picking up a woman for the night, if you find one you would like to try out."

"'Try out?'" he repeated. "Screw her, then she'll be locked to me forever. I'm not going to do that to someone I don't love."

"No hormones. No projection of love, then leave her the next morning."

Arlene was giggling as she looked around Jeff to catch her mother's eye. "Even if he doesn't bind her to him with his pheromones or his mind, the greatest sex she's ever had will do basically the same thing," she giggled. Then, "Let's get in out of the cold. I've had all of it during the night that I want while Hope, Jennie and I took the puppies out. Besides, Daddy isn't going to look for another woman, and he doesn't want any strange pussy. Do you Dad?"

"I have fourteen wives. How in the world could I ever want more?" he tried to reason as they again walked toward the inside garage. Arlene and Diana glanced at each other, but didn't pursue the subject any further.

-------

A little later, General Whitworth, Ellen and Barbara stood just inside the garage door. Security had already taken their bags to the helipad and had an SUV waiting a few steps away for the General and his women.

"No need for everyone to go stand in the cold, Whitworth called out. Just give us all a hug here and we'll be gone."

When the hugs were over, Jeff caught the General's eye. "Thanks for allowing me to keep the Ship for a while. I'll have her back soon. As I mentioned, I want Arlene and the Ship to interact for a few days. Plus, all of us need to get to know her better."

"We've already discussed this, Colonel. Those science teams need a rest anyway, but if you could pass along a message to the Ship to let the teams discover..."

"I'll take care of it," the Prime answered.

The two shook hands, then Whitworth urged his women toward the SUV as a trooper stood holding a door open for them. Inside the vehicle a moment later, Ellen snuggled against her husband. "I sure did want to ride in that thing again. The trip out here was over so quickly, we hardly got to enjoy it – well, other than having the crap scared out of us when she practically fell out of the sky. That ... vision screen, as Jeff calls it, is a bit too real. I thought for a second we were all dead, but ... I'd like to do it again. I couldn't feel any motion at all, but it still looked like we were going to make our own grave in this mountain."

"So how could I tell him no? He's the only one the Ship will let command her. Besides, Jeff will do more for me when I ask him than he ever will when I command him. Took me a while to realize that. I have no friggin' doubt he's a Prime, and his ideas about exploration tend to at least parallel my own. Besides, he's too valuable to risk on a mission through the portal."

"But what if something does happen to him? Then what about the Ship?" Barbara asked.

Whitworth shivered in spite of himself. "I'm afraid that thing would go berserk. I can't even imagine what she would do. From what Jeff says, she's pretty direct. Would she exterminate life on this planet if she couldn't determine which individual, or group, was responsible for his death? Would she blame me, or the base as a whole? I don't want to ever find out. I've assigned the best security force I can muster out here, without bringing in a whole division, plus I've put Matthews' team here under the guise of training in the mountains. Oh, they'll learn some things, but training isn't the main reason they're here.

"Kayla was, more or less, a lucky accident for me. She fell in love with him, and I took advantage of that. He's happy. She's happy. And I have a last line of defense that will always be loyal. I've risked the public finding out by putting off-world weapons on those mountain peaks, but if those defenses are needed, it will be worth it. I already have my people thinking up excuses from meteors to a generator falling from a sky crane. Something happens, we'll blanket the media with misinformation like we always do. The main thing is to keep this family safe. If one of them gets killed, I suspect the Colonel will go nuts, to put it very, very mildly."

"There's the copter," the Security officer said from the front.

-------

(Alesha is the young woman who helped Jesse save Joyce's life after she had been shot.)

Alesha and Jesse had spent the night at the Retreat – something that was becoming less frequent. Neither had to go back to work until tomorrow. Although Alesha had been sleeping in Jesse's bed, they had not gone past some heavy petting, even though they both realized they were deeply in love. Alesha's having allowed the man in Denver to have her sexually, and then having allowed the used car dealership owner to do the same, preyed hard on her mind. She knew she would probably not have survived in the cold Denver apartment without the asshole's help, but she blamed herself for getting into the situation. Surely, she could have done something else. By the time she had moved in with the other asshole, she had reached a new low in her life. In one aspect, she felt her refusal of sex with Jesse, the only man she had ever loved, was warped, but her sense of pride had been almost destroyed by having allowed those other men to use her in order for her to have food and have a place to live.

She knew it wasn't fair to Jesse to refuse him (not that he had ever pushed), but this time, she was going to do everything right. She had a decent job and an extremely nice vehicle to drive, thanks to the Matthews. She had learned a lot from the manager at the ski lodge – more and faster than she had expected.

Apparently, Brent was capable, but he seemed to be, basically, lazy. If he could get someone else to do his work for him, he would. The plus side was that his laziness had provided a learning experience that her job wasn't supposed to entail. If she had a free moment at the front desk, he trained her to do other things – most of these to do with management of the resort – in other words, his job.

She was gaining experience every day while he left on "business." Alesha soon found out that meant he was "chasing pussy" as some of the other workers termed it. She didn't care. The front desk could be boring at times, but learning the business software was fascinating. Soon she was ordering supplies, managing and scheduling the employees, making up and depositing the day's receipts, and operating the business software. It kept her busy, she learned new things, and it kept him from hanging around all day staring at her ass.

"Penny for your thoughts," Jesse said as he reached over to briefly squeeze Alesha's thigh. "You were a million miles away."

"Sorry, Baby. I was just thinking about my job."

"You could be living with the Matthews, in the lap of luxury, as they say, with no need to work."

"I know. And so could you, for that matter. How many times has Jeff offered now?"

"I've lost track. He keeps saying that we saved Joyce's life, and he owes us. He even took me aside and asked if they had done something to make us mad, since we seldom spend the night there anymore."

"Oh, my goodness. What did you tell him?"

"The same thing I always tell him – that we want to make it on our own. That they don't owe us anything. Arlene bitched me out about not letting them buy me a new truck. That was still sneaky about 'fixing' the motor in mine, then building the truck practically from the ground up. My baby is better than she's ever been," he said patting the steering wheel. "I had rather have her than a new one any day."

Alesha sighed. "I'm still feeling guilty about driving their Escalade, but there's no way we can afford to buy me an all-wheel drive vehicle right now, particularly one that's reliable. No matter how many times they plow out the road to the ski lodge where I work, there's still snow pack or ice occasionally. The Escalade just goes into all-wheel drive when it hits a slick place."

Jessie sighed. "Crap, we couldn't even afford those snow tires Jeff has on it. It's going to take a while for us to save up enough money to be able to do the things we want, Baby. Rent is astronomical in the area, as you certainly know, and to find something we might be able to afford to buy one day, it will have to be so far out that commuting in the winter will be an iffy thing."

Alesha thought of something and changed the subject somewhat. "By the way, your landlady hasn't made any snide comments lately. Suppose she has given up?" Alesha looked hard at his face for a moment. "What did you do?" she asked, suspiciously.

"I paid the bitch another hundred when I paid the rent. I notice she suddenly became a little more open-minded with her so-called 'morals' about your living with me. I told her we weren't going to have sex until we married, but she just 'hurrumped' and walked away. She hasn't spoken since the extra hundred, but then again, she hasn't bitched, either."

"That's another hundred that isn't going into our kitty," Alesha quietly responded.

"You could give up and marry me now, and we could continue living in the apartment. All we would have to buy would be your rings and wedding dress. The Matthews would host the wedding, like they have for everyone else. Heck, if we didn't let them do it, they would probably never speak to us again."

"I know we could, but I want us to be in better financial shape first." She reached over and put her hand on his. "I swear I'll make it up to you for waiting, Baby. You're a good man. A very good man. I just want us to start out with a little cushion. And I don't want us to begin our marriage in debt. I almost starved once, and lived with two different assholes in order to eat and have a roof over my head. Please, just hang in there with me. I'll be the absolute best wife I can manage to be. I love you more than life itself."

"I love you too, Hon, and you just remember that."

The pickup continued on down the mountain, the two young people in it deep in thought.



-------

Chapter 185


WINTER PARK

Greg McMasters, head of procurement at the hospital where Caitlin was employed, hit a speed-dial number on his cell phone.

Two rings later. "Yeah? What do you want on a Sunday afternoon?" Aaron Solomon, McMasters' assistant, answered, knowing it was McMasters by the number shown on the phone.

"We need to talk."

"So talk. I'm just..."

"Not on the phone. Meet me downtown at the park," McMasters curtly interrupted, hanging up before Solomon could answer.

A few minutes later, Solomon parked and walked over to where McMasters was sitting on a bench. "Anybody tell you it's too cold to be sitting out here?" Solomon snarled as he sat on the icy bench by his boss.

McMasters stood. "Stand back up. You wearing a wire or some type of recording device?" McMasters asked, even as he began to pat Solomon down.

"What? What the fuck are you doing?" Solomon said as McMasters' hand cupped Solomon's groin. "Have you gone gay or something?" he said, trying to push his boss away.

"Shut the fuck up and sit down," McMasters snarled as he finished with his search and motioned toward the bench.

"What did you do that for?" Solomon asked, sitting, nevertheless.

McMasters didn't directly answer the question, but instead said, "I went by the office to pick up something I forgot. Someone has been in my computer. Since that bitch(Caitlin) came to work for us, I've been watching for something like this. Someone had opened some of my vendor files – files that could help to hang our asses. I'm just about positive it's that bitch. Fuck, I never thought anybody could get by my passwords, but she, or someone, certainly did."

"You mean that someone knows?" Solomon hissed out, beginning to panic. "I'm not going to jail for the paltry amount of money I've gotten out of this. I know you've been getting kickbacks for a long time. A hell of a lot more money than what you've given me. I told you it was a bad idea as soon as I found out what you were doing. I let you talk me into being involved in this, and now I'm going to jail."

"Oh, shut the fuck up. It's too late to whine now – you took the money. You're in this just as deep as I am."

McMasters sat quietly for a moment. Just as Solomon started to say something, McMasters continued, "I saw that Sheriff come by the office Friday morning."

"Friday?" Solomon hissed out. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Oh, shut up. He didn't say anything to me, just glanced in the open door of the office while you were out running down whatever the fuck that nurse wanted. He acted as though he had something on his mind. He might have been visiting a patient and parked in the back lot, then come through the nurses' entrance to save time. Cops park wherever they want to, and besides, anyone can park in the back. The only difference in that entrance and any other is the sign that says it's the nurses' entrance. No big deal, but...  it might be that Adair (Administrator of the hospital) has found out something from that bitch and called the Sheriff in. The only time I've seen a Deputy come in that entrance was when he was answering a call to the hospital. If they're here to visit someone, they come in the front door."

Solomon jumped to his feet. "I told you this was a bad idea. I don't want to go to jail; have Bubba fuck me in the ass."

"Hush. Now isn't the time for whining. And sit down before someone notices you acting like a fool. Nobody is going to jail. It will take more than that bitch just looking at some of my files for us to go to jail. Figuring out that I've let some vendors bill more than they shipped won't be an overnight thing, even if she did see the files, besides, the kickbacks on the big items are a lot harder to decipher. But ... that fucking Sheriff coming by our office worries me. He could well have turned right at the end of the hall to go to the Administrator's office."

"You said 'Sheriff.' You mean Deputy, don't you?"

"No, I fucking don't mean a Deputy came by. He's the damn Sheriff. The one who got the DA a while back. I'm pretty sure he went into the Administrator's office. I was going to follow him, but some nurses came through pushing a patient bed just as I got to the door of our office. By the time I could get past them and to the end of the hall, he could have gone either way. I didn't want to call attention to myself, so I just went on about my business."

"But why didn't you tell me this Friday?"

"Because I didn't want you overreacting in front of everybody, like you're doing right now. At least there's nobody out here but us," he said, glancing casually around. "Besides, I really didn't think too much about the Sheriff until I found out that someone had been in my files."

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit," Solomon said, jumping up again. "I knew this was a bad idea. I should have told you to stick it up your ass instead of taking that money from you. That fucker is not dumb. If he gets on to us, we'll be in jail forever."

"Oh, sit back down. We just need to make some changes in the things we do. Muddy the waters a bit."

Solomon finally resumed his seat. "If I get arrested, I'm going to tell them everything. I'm not going to jail," he muttered.

"Nobody is going to jail. And if you squeal on me, you're a dead man. You just remember that. It's time for you to start helping me fix this instead of crying about it. We need to make sure the withdrawals from Central Supply match up to the numbers we've been billed from the vendors. I think I know how to get into their files. We need to make some changes. If the shit hits the fan, we'll have a plan ready to show it was one of the nurses that was stealing from Central. It will look like she's been selling the stuff on the net. It's happened at other hospitals; it could happen at this one. If it looks like he's getting too close, I'll tell Adair we think someone is stealing from Central. The nurses have to get their own shit at night, even personally log out what they take. It should be easy to put the blame on one of them. I'm not giving up my gravy train, yet. We just need to make some fake withdrawals from Central. Hell, come to think of it, we can make it look like two of them are stealing. That would be a lot more believable with the number of items involved. Yeah, that'll work."

THE RETREAT

Jeff, Diana and Paulette sat on the couch, the Prime and his Queen holding hands while Van sat in a chair near Adriana, who had Little One on her chest.

Little One beeped as the blue beams winked out. Jeff reached over to retrieve the Healer as Adriana opened her eyes. After a moment, "That's it?" she questioned while stifling a yawn.

Jeff held the collar of his shirt open as Little One flowed inside. He hesitated as his eyes lost focus for a few seconds. "She says she's done. In a few days you will ovulate. You're still sure about this, right?"

Van knelt beside his wife, taking her hand in his. "Most definitely sure," Adriana said, but her answer was to her husband instead of Jeff.

Adriana turned to her daughter, "Come here, Sweet. This affects all of us."

Van stood, reached down and picked Adriana up as if she weighed nothing. Sitting back down with her in his lap, he touched his lips to hers for a second, his love for her obvious from the look on his face and the tender kiss.

"What do you think, Baby?" Adriana asked as their daughter knelt by their chair. "You did give your permission. You had a say in this. We even asked Jeremy about it."

"I'm proud for you, Mom. Uh, both of you. I just wish it could be me getting ready to get pregnant by Jeremy."

"You're way too young to be talking about having babies," Van said. "Way too young."

Paulette started to argue, but remembered what her mother had said about staying on the good side of her father.

"But I can dream," she said, instead, trying to sound lighthearted about the subject. With the hormones of a fourteen-year-old coursing through her veins, not to mention the enhancement that had revved up her sexuality, the discussion about babies had affected her almost more than she could stand.

"Congratulations," Jeff and Diana offered almost simultaneously.

"A little early, isn't it?" Van replied with an accompanying chuckle.

Jeff shrugged. "I have no idea how long it takes for an egg to mature after Little One does her thing, but I can pretty much guarantee that Adriana is soon to be fertile – very fertile."

Paulette sat back on the couch with Diana, the teenager trying desperately to not blush, knowing they were treating her as an adult to even let her hear the conversation. "This will be good for me," she said. "I want to help every day while you're pregnant, Mom, and when the baby comes, I want you to teach me how to take proper care of a newborn." There was a moment of silence, then Paulette added, "I'll wear my player tonight so you two can make all the noise you want." The last few words came out in a rush with Paulette's face turning crimson in the process.

While they all laughed, Diana stood and pulled the blushing teenager up to hug her. "Your mom and dad say you'll be old enough soon. It's obvious that Jeremy loves you, just as you do him. He won't forget you – he's an Alpha. So don't worry about that."

Van stood and put Adriana on her feet. "I guess we should be going. It will be feeding time shortly after we get home, and Paulette probably has some homework."

"Did it in school. My science project is ready, too. But I'll help with feeding so you two will have more time together."

Adriana caught her husband's eye and grinned at him.

-------

Dave came jogging down the hall. "Wait up, Jeff," the Alpha called out. "I need to speak with you for a moment."

"Sure. Meet you in the living room in a minute. I'll get us a pot of coffee."

Dave waved his acknowledgment and turned into the living room, while Jeff went on into the kitchen. Eventually, the men sat looking out the big window, Jeff in his favorite recliner, although he didn't have the seat pushed back, and Dave in another seat nearby.

As Jeff poured the coffee for both of them, "Did you have Little One fix Adriana up?"

Jeff blew on his coffee, but answered before taking a sip. "Yeah. But it was a scary thing."

Dave frowned and looked at his Prime. "Scary? How could it be scary?"

"Diana was there."

"But I don't see..." Then, "Oh," he added as he did see. "The baby bug."

"Yeah, if one of my women has a baby, all of them will want their own, and I could see that look in Diana's eye. The operative word about my wives is all. Fourteen wives – fourteen. That's a lot of babies, and a load of bad diapers. I can change a wet one, no trouble, but I've puked more than once when changing a shitty one. Diana acts like there's nothing to it, but the smell makes me want to hang over a commode. Now that Little One has enhanced us, I don't even want to imagine how bad a shitty diaper will smell."

Dave chuckled and remarked, "At least a girl baby can't piss in your face while you're changing her. My guys were kidding one of my electricians the other day. Seems like he made the mistake of telling them that his baby boy pissed right in his face while he was changing the kid. He just said it would happen to them sooner or later if they ever had a boy."

But Dave suddenly got quiet as another thought hit. "I have three wives. Do you suppose they'll all decide to have babies at the same time?" Then answering himself, "Surely they wouldn't do that – would they?" he asked, looking at Jeff while trying to not show his (Dave's) lurking terror.

"You expect to get sympathy from me?" Jeff asked with a sick laugh. "Think about fourteen kids, all two-year-olds, running around here."

The men sat staring out the window, their coffee forgotten for the moment.

Finally, Jeff wrenched his mind to the present. "What did you want to see me about?"

"Well, number one is the move to the new classrooms. Helen says tomorrow will be a good time, so I'm having four of my guys coming in to help..."

"We could do it," Jeff started.

Dave sighed, "Jeff, you have a zillion dollars in the bank. I have some unskilled people who could use the time. Let's let them do the scut work, okay?"

"Uh, sure. I didn't think about that."

"Anyway, that wasn't what I came to discuss, but I do have an idea about something else. Well, Evie and I have an idea. I've had your accountant and the lawyer look into this, and I think it might be a good deal, but after you bought the steel erection company – well, I don't know how you might feel about this right behind the other."

Jeff drained the last of his lukewarm coffee and poured himself another cup, motioning to Dave with the pot.

"No thanks. Uh, I hope I haven't overstepped my..."

"'Overstepped?'" Jeff laughed. "You and Evie are my project managers. That covers a broad field. So what have the two of you found this time?"

"Well, in your words, it's a chunk of change – probably a big chunk, but I think it's a deal we shouldn't pass up. I mentioned it once before, but I didn't have any information then. Evie and I just don't have the cash to invest right now. As you know, we've spent the last several years expanding our company and buying all the equipment we could squeeze out of the company budget – heck, even our personal budget, most of the time. But the big crane was the last large purchase we should have to make for several years, even so, we can't swing this much money."

"So you want me to buy another company? Is that it?"

"No. Well, in a way. What I want is for us to go into this together. I think Evie and I can come up with half of it, if they'll sell for what I think they will. We're hoping you'll cover the rest. It's a ski resort that's on the same road where Alesha works. Actually, to be more precise, they extended that road to the new location. Anyway, some of the resort is almost finished, and the rest of the buildings are in out of the weather with the outside totally finished, other than the grounds. From what we were able to learn, they have lost their financial backing for some reason. Word is that the owners are getting desperate enough to sell, but may not be able to find any takers, because it needs to be sold quickly and must be a cash deal."

Dave hesitated for a moment. "I don't know how your finances are after you bought the steel erection company ... Think you might be interested?"

"Tell me more," the Prime said, filling Dave's cup without being asked.

"Well, the initial idea was a high end ski resort – swank, to cater to the wealthy. The place is locked up, but Evie and I, well ... we managed to find a way in," he said with a grin. "One building is practically finished, and the other two, like I said, are finished on the outside. One has a lot of work left to do on the inside, and the other is about three-fourths of the way finished, I suppose. As best we could determine, one building has about ninety percent of the bathroom fixtures installed. The other building has everything there, but nothing installed. There's furniture and everything for the finished building, including everything for the front office and lobby. The place is really, really swank. The architect must be good. The main building, like I said, is mostly finished and is truly beautiful." Dave handed Jeff several pictures that Evie had taken of the buildings.

"Hmmm," Jeff said, looking at the beautiful main building. "Someone has spent some money, no doubt."

"Exactly. Uh, Evie made up a rough estimate of what it would take to finish everything. If we can get it for a decent price, I'm dead certain it would be a moneymaker. But..."

"How much?"

Dave told him how much he thought it would cost to complete everything and how long he estimated the work to take, plus told him what the lawyer thought they would sell for.

"You can swing half of that?" Jeff quietly asked.

"Oh, we'll have to borrow a good portion of it, but yeah, we think it's doable. We have an excellent credit rating."

"Why not just borrow the money from me? I wouldn't charge you any interest. Makes me uncomfortable that a bank would have its hands in the pie. The big banks are run by criminals these days. I read an article on a news link. The reporter interviewed one of the top people investigating the big banks. He said that modern international bankers form a class of thieves the world has never before seen. He called it a cesspool of unprecedented corruption. We both know he's dead on. I wouldn't trust a bank to be involved in our business. Why not go thirds? I'll bet Frank would want in if you asked him? Particularly since you and Evie think it will make money."

"I had rather it just be us. Although, I certainly don't have anything against Frank. He's my brother Alpha, and ... truth be told, he could buy this place with his pocket change."

"Hell, just about everybody is a pauper compared to him," Jeff laughed.

"So, you want me to tell the attorney to find the owners and feel them out? Maybe start negotiations?"

"Yeah. I think that's a good idea. When we know more, I'll fill Diana in, as well as the others. On something this big, I want all my wives to agree before we take it much further. Wouldn't hurt to have Frank look into this as well."

Dave thought for a second. "Maybe you're right about Frank. I guess I was just being greedy. Yeah, let's tell him about it as soon as he gets back from his honeymoon. In the meantime, I'll call the attorney in the morning."

The men sat quietly for a moment, then Dave turned to Jeff. "So, if we buy the resort and finish building it, who are we going to get to run it?"

Jeff just looked at him and grinned. "Dave, my brother, you've just presented me with a way to accomplish something that has repeatedly stymied me. Oh, Diana is going to love this."

-------

They waved to Security as they passed, then as Van turned the pickup from the Retreat's driveway onto the first county road, Adriana reached over to put a hand on his thigh for a moment. Free of the winding driveway, he reached his right hand to hold hers as the family went down the mountain, all lost in their own thoughts for the moment.

Finally, Adriana shifted to glance at her husband. "It seems so ... odd," she quietly said. "When Jeremy told us about the Matthews, I had a mental picture of all those women with just one man, but ... I wasn't even close. I had made up my mind that I wouldn't like them, let alone become friends with them, but ... now we're much more than just friends – and I want to know them even better."

Van squeezed her hand. "If we can believe them, we've been given the fountain of youth. It's hard to get my mind around that, but, then again, I've never felt this good in my life, and after last night..." His voice faltered as he glanced at the image in the mirror of his grinning daughter.

"You guys are really loud," Paulette said with a giggle. All of them knew that Paulette was talking about last night.

Van could feel his face flush as blood rushed to it. Grown men don't blush, do they? he wondered. But then again, maybe I can blush easily now that my body is working properly. I wonder if Paulette just listened to us last night. Surely she didn't see anything. I don't think I'm too upset knowing that she had heard us. But she's been having that odd look on her face when she stares at Adriana and me, hmmm, ever since this morning. She's hiding something, and ... she's proud of herself.

Paulette brought him jarringly back to the present with, "What are you two going to get me for my birthday?"

She's smart. Ten to one she read something in my expression in the mirror and decided to sidetrack my thinking. He glanced at his wife and winked. "Sticks and snails and puppy dog tails," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh, Daddiiee," she said, dragging out the word.

"So what do you want? Sweet fifteen and never been kissed," he teased, but wished the instant it was out of his mouth that he hadn't said it.

"Oh, you know I've been kissed, but that's as far as he got, or ever will get. Two seconds later, I slapped him as hard as I could when he tried to grab my breast. And that was in the driveway. Shortest date on record," she laughed. "And you know what I want. I want my brother, just like Mom wants her brother. I guess it runs in the family," she teased.

Adriana ducked her head a little and looked out of the corner of her eye at her husband as she fought to hold back laughter.

"You're going along with this," he accused.

"Not until she's old enough, but I chose the best man I possibly could. I think she's done the same, don't you? And Jeff told you that Little One said that their babies would be healthy."

"But she's too young, " Van tried to reason.

"Well, of course she is – now. Time will change that, though."

Paulette jumped in with, "How much time, Mom?"

"Don't push it, Daughter. Your father and I will let you know when we think you're old enough."

"Yeah, when I'm old and gray," Paulette couldn't help saying.

"Can't get old and gray, according to Jeff and Diana," Adriana said, just to irritate Paulette.

Paulette, remembering what her mother had told her earlier, snapped her mouth closed before the comeback got out, held her temper and thought, She's baiting me to see how I'll react. Aloud, she said, "I'll wait for my love. One day, I'll be old enough." But the wistfulness crept into her voice, anyway.

Adriana smiled at her husband and squeezed his hand. Our home is going to feel awfully empty with her gone, and I'm going to cry for days when she leaves, but ... I still have some time with my beautiful daughter, yet. Time to get serious about teaching her how to be a good wife.

Later, almost home, Adriana looked at her watch, "We have time. Let's stop by Lillian's for a few minutes and see how she's doing." (Lillian O'Donald, their neighbor whose husband was killed.) "You can do her evening chores for her while we talk."

Just as Van opened his mouth to say something, Adriana continued, "I can guarantee you it will be worth your while."

"I wasn't going to object. I know she could use the rest. I was just going to ask what made you think of stopping."

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I just thought it would be nice." She didn't tell him what it was, and he just assumed she was talking about the visit.

-------

Jeremy, Connie and Denise came in from riding snowmobiles with Jeff's and Dave's younger wives. Jeff was seated in front of the fire in the living room, with Diana snuggled in his lap.

Sitting up a little, Diana told Jeremy, "Your mom and dad are already gone. They said they had to get back in time for feeding."

"Yeah, they told us bye before we went riding. We'll stop by and see them in a few days."

"So how was the ride?"

Jeremy grinned as Connie and Denise chorused, "We had a ball."

"We're not nearly as good as some of your, uh, wives, but we still had a great time," Denise offered.

"The way you said it is correct," Diana said with a smile. "We're all married to each other, so they're my wives too. We just call each other sister-wives, though. Well, you have two weeks' vacation, don't you? Plenty of time to ride until your heart is content. I haven't been out in a while, so I might join you the next time you decide to go for a ride – if you wouldn't mind."

"Are you kidding? That would be great," Jeremy responded as his wives also agreed.

"Oh, while I'm thinking about it," Diana said, "let's dispense with the early breakfast for you three." When Denise and Connie started to protest and insist on helping cook the early meal, Diana went quickly on. "Nonsense. You're on your honeymoon. Just stop by for breakfast at eight. It's really no problem."

Denise and Connie finally agreed, but a look passed between them.

"Now shoo. Go have some fun. If you don't show up for supper, we'll leave food out for you."

Smiling, the three newlyweds started back to their suite, their arms around each other. "Well, we don't have to get up early," Jeremy started.

"Wrong," Denise and Connie sang out together.

"But you said..."

"No use arguing with her, but we'll be up in plenty of time in the morning to help cook breakfast," Denise said. "We are not going to let a bunch of wealthy people serve us. Connie and I will be in there helping just like all the rest."

Connie continued with, "Besides, if we get used to sleeping late, it will kill us when we start back to work."

As they entered their suite, Connie looked at Denise. "Do you want to, or shall I?"

"You do it. I don't think I can."

"Do what?" Jeremy said, then, as Connie opened the laptop, "Oh, crap, I got to enjoying you two, then we went riding and I forgot about the money for a while. Surely, it can't be enough for all three of us to go..."

But their laptop was booted by then. A few moments later they stood, then slowly sat as they stared at the figures on the screen. "Oh, my," Connie finally managed. The others didn't get that far.

"We can't take that," Jeremy said after a time.

"I think we already have," Denise said. "It's in our account."

"All that because we basically just wanted to save our jobs..."

"We could quit and go full time," Jeremy commented with little conviction.

"No," both women said as one.

"So it's agreed that we keep working, at least for now?" Jeremy questioned.

"Yeah," Connie agreed after she and Denise locked eyes for a second.

After a moment, Jeremy went on. "My school offers online classes, and I've considered it. Maybe that would fit all of us better than physically attending classes and facing the commute. And like you two, I don't want to give up my job just yet. But if we do decide to go full-time, we need to make sure we give plenty of notice so they can hire our replacements and get them trained. The company has been too good to us to leave them short."

The three looked at each other. "Agreed," they said in unison.



-------

Chapter 186

THE RETREAT, SUNDAY NIGHT

Arlene and Hope turned into Hope's suite, both girls laughing and talking as each carried a puppy snuggled in her arms. When they entered the bedroom, Arlene nodded to the package Hope carried. "That plastic drop cloth should work just fine."

"I hope so," Hope replied as she put Sugar in her kennel, closed the door, then opened the package that contained a painter's drop cloth. Arlene helped to strip the sheets from the bed. As they were spreading the plastic, she grinned over at Hope. "This might make a crinkling sound when you move on the bed, but it should protect the mattress."

The two girls worked to tuck the fitted sheet on next. "Jennie and I were worried last night that Sugar would pee on the bed, even though we took her out every hour on the hour throughout the night. At least this way, she'll only wet the sheet if she screws up."

"So, Sugar didn't sleep in her kennel, either?"

Hope giggled. "No, she did about the same thing you told me Spike did – kept waking us up howling for her mother. As soon as I gave up and put her in bed with us, she went right to sleep. I don't think she really understands why we keep taking her outside all the time, though. She looks at us as if we've lost our minds when one of us opens the back door and she feels the cold. Jennie and I did at least alternate taking her out. You should have gotten someone to help you. Even with Jennie and me swapping out, we're both tired today. I'm going to bed early tonight, and Jennie probably will, too."

"Yeah, I did it by myself," Arlene said, "but you can bet I'll accept help tonight – if someone volunteers. Daddy isn't, uh, enthused to have Spike sleeping with us, particularly since the little turkey keeps snuggling up to him (Jeff). He keeps telling me to get my 'rat, ' but I think Spike is wearing him down. He found Daddy in the living room a little while ago. When Spike saw him, he ran over and whined to be picked up. Daddy reached over and rubbed Spike's ears, then said, 'Where did you come from, Rat?' Then he hollered, 'Arlene,  come get your dog.'"

"Did you turn him loose in the hallway?"

Arlene giggled. "No, no. I put him just inside the living room door. Spike saw Daddy and did the rest himself."

The two girls giggled about Spike liking Jeff, then, "Have you introduced Spike to Billy?" Hope asked.

"No, not yet. Selina was busy and I didn't ask her where Billy was. Has Sugar met Billy?"

A frown creased Hope's brow. "Unh uh. But I wonder what Billy will do when he sees them the first time."

"With Billy, who knows? But you can bet it'll be interesting."

EARLY MONDAY MORNING

Jeff's internal alarm woke him a few minutes before four A.M. Beginning to pry himself from between Diana and Arlene, Spike started wiggling and whining as the Prime put too much weight on him. Not again,  he thought, exasperated. Every time I put that ... dog back with Arlene, he waits until I'm asleep, then snuggles against me. Gently, he rolled Arlene to her back, then did the same for her mother. Carefully, he placed the sleeping puppy on Arlene's belly and made his way out of bed.

As he stood, Kayla walked over, stopping momentarily to kiss her mate's cheek before heading for the bathroom, still half asleep. Ten minutes later, both were dressed in their running gear and had walked out the back door. "Oh, crap, that's cold," she muttered as a gust of icy wind hit them. "That's a cruel way to wake up, but it's darn sure an efficient one."

Chuckling, Jeff agreed as they broke into a slow jog down the driveway to warm up for their run.

VAN AND ADRIANA CARTER'S FARM

At 5:00 A.M., Van went down to the barn and found the lights already on inside. Hearing a tractor at the other end of the big building, he walked on out into the yard. Paulette was just setting one of the round bales into a feeder in the big lot. He stood, figuratively scratching his head, until the tractor swung around and its lights crossed over him. He waved and returned to the other end of the barn, wondering.

He wasn't worried about her operating the tractor; on the contrary, Paulette had been driving one since she could reach the pedals and was as safe as anyone he had ever seen. Truth be told, he thought, she can do most anything I can with either of the big machines.

Paulette also drove the pickup and big truck around on the property, but not on the road, of course. But five o'clock? She usually got up at six. Even then, she first got ready for school before helping her mother with breakfast. If Adriana didn't have anything pressing to do in the house, after taking Paulette to the bus stop, his wife would help him with whatever was going on at the moment.

Paulette helped around the farm in the afternoons, particularly with feeding the stock and getting the eggs ready for market. Five in the morning on a tractor just wasn't the daughter he had raised. Dammit,  he thought, she's showing me she can be an adult. But one early morning on a tractor in the cold isn't going to change my mind. She's too fucking young. Too young to have sex, and too young to get married, let alone be number three wife in a marriage.

Lost in thought, he continued with his chores. Later, he realized his daughter was close just before she grabbed him from behind in a hug. Even through both their coats, he could feel the pressure of her breasts against him. His mind brought a picture of her to the fore, albeit fully dressed. Still, he thought that her breasts were almost as big as her mother's. When did my daughter grow up?

Spinning around, he grabbed her in a hug, his eyes misting. He blinked and tried to make his voice jovial, teasing to cover his embarrassment. "What's with the early girl?"

"Daddy, I'm serious about learning to be a good wife. Mom has always helped you as far back as I can remember. I've heard you tell people that the two of you are partners."

"But Jeremy works in town, or at least the company he works for is based there. He's usually on a jobsite somewhere else, I guess. Just remember that he doesn't live or work on a farm any more."

For a second, Paulette had a look on her face that he couldn't interpret, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. "So? I need to learn to help you more, anyway. Mom will have morning sickness pretty soon. She says she was nauseated for the first couple of months when she was pregnant with me." Then with an impish look, "Did you two get a start on the baby last night?"

Van could feel his face flush. His first thought was to lecture her, but then again, if she were an adult, he would have just chuckled. Quickly throttling his flash of anger, he took a breath instead. "For your information, young lady, your mother and I did make love..."

"She isn't fertile yet, I suppose," Paulette said as if she were discussing the weather. "But I'll bet it won't be long. Keep in there, Daddy. I want a little brother or sister."

Van wasn't sure about the 'keep in there.' It could have two meanings, and the sparkle in his daughter's eyes probably meant she had realized both of them.

Instead of calling her attention to it negatively, he responded with, "I intend to."

Paulette, suddenly more serious, looked up at her father as she took both his hands in hers. "I'll help a lot more than I've been doing in the past, Dad. You've always said that with all of us pulling together, we could do anything. I won't spend any more money than I absolutely have too, either. I already have plenty of new clothes, and I can take my lunch to school. That will save a few dollars a month. There are other things that I can help cut back on. We can make it even with Mom tied up with pregnancy and a new baby."

Van grabbed her in a hug again, patting her back. "Baby, we're fine financially right now. I'm working on a couple of ideas that should help take care of things while your mother is pregnant. I don't want you worrying about our future. Just let me take care of that. Now scat and get cleaned up for school. We'll talk more later."

Paulette pulled his head down and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. "You're the greatest daddy there is."

He swatted her behind as the two laughed and she hurried out of the barn.

-------

Back in the house, Paulette quickly showered and dressed for school, wanting to talk to her mother. When she walked into the kitchen, Adriana turned to her daughter. "You look pretty," then doing a double take, "Oh, you look really pretty."

"Thanks Mom. You do too. I think it's Little One," Paulette said, feeling her more sensitive nipples rubbing against her bra. "I feel really... great." She couldn't help the blush that told her mother more than the teenager intended.

"Me, too," Adriana said as she gave her daughter a quick hug. "Skillet's hot. Start the sausage and pour the juice, will you? The gravy is ready and I'll have the eggs on in a minute. The biscuits need to come out of the oven in five minutes. Were you helping your dad at the barn?"

Paulette put the sausage in the skillet. "Yeah. I got up a little early and gave him a hand with the feeding."

Adriana stole a glance at Paulette, not wanting to embarrass her more than she probably already had. She looks different, somehow – full of life, even more adult this morning. Diana said she looked twenty because she wants to, and with Little One, maybe I will, too. I sure wouldn't have to guess that Paulette wants to look sixteen. Oh, my. She'll be fifteen Wednesday. My baby is growing up far too quickly. Better get the job done soon, Van. I'm too young to have an empty nest.

On the way back from the barn, Van remembered he needed to check the oil in the pickup. While he had it on his mind, he did that, then left his boots on the front porch and came in that way instead of the back door he usually used when coming in from the barn. He walked down the hallway in his sock feet, but stopped just before entering the kitchen as he heard his daughter say, "Mom, I have a confession to make. Please don't get mad at me. I really didn't intent for it to happen."

"You spied on us again?"

"No, Mom. Well, yeah, I guess, but not like you think. I really didn't have the foggiest idea about the two of you making love in the morning. Yesterday morning at the Retreat, I was just going to ask if you were ready for us to go help cook, and I opened your bedroom door. I think I was actually saying something as I walked in – well, partway in."

"So you saw us?"

"Yeah, Mom. But please don't get mad. I guess I was so shocked that I just stood there for a second. It ... it's like everything just burned into my brain. Oh, Mom. You're so beautiful. I wish I could someday look half as good as you do. Your breasts were sort of swaying and jiggling, and you had your neck arched back as you screamed out. Honest, as soon as I unfroze, I stepped back and closed the door."

"And your father?"

"Well, I couldn't really see anything. You were, uh, sitting on him. I think you were coming, and I suppose the two of you were sort of..."

"Together," Adriana offered, trying to hold back a giggle.

"Yeah. I could see Daddy's face though, and he had the oddest look. It kinda makes me want to giggle even thinking about it."

Adriana stared at her blushing daughter for a moment. "I guess you didn't do anything wrong. If anyone did, it was your dad and me. We should have locked the door. But ... this little alien of the Matthews has Van and me so ... revved up, that we can't leave each other alone..."

Paulette hesitated for a second, then went on with a rush. "I need you to buy that vibrator for me, Mom. Just think about what all this has done to me. Little One has enhanced us. Arlene told me all about what Little One has done to us, uh, what it means, and ... you talk about the two of you being 'revved' up. What about me? I don't have anyone to help me out, and I absolutely refuse to push anything up inside me. Jeremy is going to be my first, and my last. But I need something more than my fingers, Mom. I really do."

Adriana hugged her daughter. "I bought you three different clitoral vibrators online last night. They should be here tomorrow." After a moment, she realized that her daughter was quietly crying on her shoulder. Grabbing a dishtowel, she wiped the tears away. "I guess this enhancement thing has a bit of a downside, huh? You okay to go to school?"

Paulette sniffed and grabbed the towel to dry the last of the tears. "Yeah, but come and get me at noon, please. I can eat lunch here, and all I have in the afternoon is study hall, anyway. I'm way ahead in all my classes, and I don't want to sit around study hall just thinking. As you know, I usually do my homework in class – well, the most of it, anyway. Usually, by the time study hall begins, I don't have much, if anything, to do, but I don't feel like helping out the other kids today. I already catch enough crap from being double promoted and being a couple of years younger than everyone else in my class."

Adriana gently took her daughter's face in her hands, their faces close. "I'll be there at twelve. I wish you hadn't seen us. I know that didn't help. I'll make sure to lock the door from now on."

There was a moment of silence as mother and daughter stared at each other. "Please don't," Paulette got out in a whisper. "That's something you would do to a child. You need to talk to me about making love, and I need to learn so I can please Jeremy."

"Baby, watching or listening to your mom and dad isn't the answer. I'm sure Connie and Denise will be glad..."

"You, Mom. I'll eventually ask them, but you're the person I respect more than anyone on earth. You need to talk to me, Momma. Oh, I certainly know the basics of sex. You explained all that a couple of years back, but I want to know how to please my husband – when we're finally able to marry."

Adriana cleared her throat as she almost said no, that Connie and Denise would tell her those things, but the look on Paulette's face gave the mother pause. Can I do this? Can I tell my daughter how to please her man? Adriana found herself nodding. "We'll talk, Baby. We'll start when we get you home from school today."

Van quietly backed up a few steps, took a breath, then put his feet down hard as he walked toward the kitchen. "Did Paulette tell you she had half the feeding done by the time I got there this morning?" Van exaggerated as he burst into the kitchen, but his mind was still locked on what his daughter had seen at the Retreat. He didn't know whether to be pissed, proud, or scared shitless.

Adriana looked a look at him, probably already having realized that he had heard at least part of the conversation. The woman is psychic,  he thought as he went to the sink to wash his hands. I've never been able to hide anything from her. "What's for breakfast? I could eat a horse – raw."

"Me, too," Paulette chimed in as she turned the sausage over. "I put in a few extra patties 'cause I think I can eat three, myself," she tried to say nonchalantly, but her red face gave her away.

"I guess we're all hungry," Adriana added to the conversation. "Didn't I hear you go into the kitchen last night, Baby?" she asked her daughter.

"Yeah," Paulette laughed. "I ate two peanut butter, jelly and banana sandwiches about one-thirty, but I'm really hungry this morning, anyway."

As Van was washing his hands at the sink, he told his wife. "I thought I ate enough yesterday to catch up for a while, but apparently I didn't, because I'm ready to eat that whole skillet of scrambled eggs you're working on."

"Plenty more where these came from," Adriana said as she winked at him. She didn't mention to Paulette that she and Van had made a late night stop in the kitchen before going back to bed and making love yet again.

THE RETREAT

The General had called on the radio telling Jeff that he (Whitworth) was on his way to DC. He had asked Jeff to send the Ship back for a day or so because two of the scientists had experiments running that they needed to check out. Also, their supervisor had said he wanted the equipment that had been left on the Ship when she had left so abruptly. Jeff had just chuckled and said that Arlene would gladly wait a day or two for her training to begin.

After breakfast, he walked out to the Ship and sent her back to the base, telling her to return day after tomorrow.

-------

The move yesterday to the new classrooms had gone off flawlessly. Dave's workers did most of the actual work with Helen supervising, assisted by Arlene, the only person Helen would allow to help, other than Dave, of course.

The plans for the classroom had expanded as students were gradually added to Helen's rolls when Jeff and Dave had married more young women. At Helen's and Diana's insistence, Jeff had allowed the architect virtually free rein, in collusion with the wives, of course. What had started out as a modest but pretty classroom had developed into a place of art and startling beauty, where the girls and women could relax and have a beautiful place to learn.

The main classroom was now several times bigger than their first drawings had depicted. A sculptured koi and goldfish pond, with a waterfall, the whole looking like a nature scene in a beautiful wood, discreetly adorned the middle of the large classroom. The outdoor motif continued throughout, including every object that could be adapted to it. Indeed, even the work tables in the study alcoves seemed to extend from the surrounding background and almost be part of nature.

Everyone in the Retreat had visited the classrooms as they were being built and furnished, but even so, as Helen opened the door to escort everyone in, now that the materials had been moved, a hush fell upon the group. They were finally here.

Diana dragged her husband to her study alcove, proudly showing it to him as if he had never seen it before. After a few minutes of exploring, the two stood just inside the main classroom door, their arms around each other as Jeff thought, I've seen every stage of this as it was being built, and it still makes me feel as if I've just stepped into a beautiful woodland scene straight out of a fairytale. We lost the use of a couple of rooms on the third floor to put in the vaulted ceiling, but we never used those rooms, anyway. The walls, ceiling – even the carpet – go with the motif and become part of the scene.

A large part of the scenery was live, and Jeff honestly couldn't tell that everything wasn't.

When Helen needed to lecture to everyone, she had several options. One was with conventional, though leading-edge audiovisual technology that allowed the students to view her lecture from their study alcoves. The second was a section of seating where the students could meet as a group. The seating could retract into the floor when not in use, but this section also tended to look like part of the woodland scene, even when raised. The third was through the AI and allowed Helen to hear, see and speak directly, but privately, with each student in his or her alcove, while she (Helen) was still in her office or from her "desk" in the main study area.

Technology offered by Frank Wainwright muted any sound coming from the study alcoves while allowing the sounds of the waterfall and the faint woodland background sounds to pass into the alcoves unhindered. The students could select whom they wished to talk to by simply informing the AI. Their conversation would be as if the person were sitting next to them, but entirely private from everyone else – this could be visual, or audio only. Thus, they could laugh and joke with someone else without bothering the others. Doctor Boswell could, of course, monitor any of these conversations. The study alcoves were easily large enough to allow several students to study together, which Helen encouraged.

Indirect lighting that could be turned down, brightened or redirected as necessary was hidden in every alcove as well as overhead lighting that seemed to almost be part of the scenery. The study alcoves all but vanished into the scenery.

Jeff, virtually ashamed to break the silence, motioned Dave over. "And if we gain too many students to accommodate them in here?"

"Well, we have quite a few study alcoves vacant yet, but if they're filled and you don't mind spending the money, we can build another classroom next door and move the project area down a few rooms, or we can work in a couple more study alcoves in here, but I would definitely recommend the first option if money isn't the primary concern."

Jeff chuckled. "I was just teasing. No way would I ever suggest changing anything to this beautiful room. We shouldn't run out of study areas in the near future, but if we do, we'll do what's necessary then." The Prime looked around himself, then went over to speak with the architect, who had almost begged to be present after everything was moved in.

Diana hugged Evie, then grabbed Dave into the hug. After a moment, "You two have outdone yourselves this time. Thank you, the both of you."

"More her than me," Dave commented. "I've never done anything like this in my life. There were times when I thought the architect, Helen and Evie were all nuts, and I'm still not convinced some of this plant life is going to live in here, but if it doesn't, we'll replace it with something that will.

"The architect first suggested a rain forest, but even faking most of it, there simply was no practical way to have that much moisture around all the electronics. But I'm glad we eventually settled on this. It is absolutely beautiful."

Diana held her hand out as a Monarch butterfly almost lit on it before flying away. Shortly, a Red Admiral fluttered after the Monarch. "The flutterbys are a nice touch," she said, her tinkling laugh seeming to fit the room.

"Flutterby?" Dave asked, knowing there had to be a story behind the word.

"Yeah," the Queen said with a smile as she remembered, "when Arlene was little, she was fascinated by butterflies, but she got the word scrambled in her mind the first few times she tried to say it. After a while, Jeff and I started saying the same thing. We all wound up calling them flutterbys, and I guess the word just stuck."

"I did not get the word scrambled,"Arlene said with a laugh. "They fluttered by, so they were flutterbys."

"You did, too," Diana laughed. "You just mispronounced the word, and now you're embarrassed by it and are trying to use logic to make us think you knew the difference."

Arlene stuck her tongue out at her mother, and they all laughed.

Jeff went over and brought the architect, Kei Yoshida, over to join their group. "Kei, the school is fabulous," he praised as he took an envelope from his hip pocket and held it out to the young woman. "We've added a bit to your fee to show our appreciation."

"Thanks, uh, Jeff," she said as she almost slipped and used his last name. In her short career, she had dealt with a few wealthy clients, but none of them had ever invited her to breakfast that they had prepared themselves, nor did they treat her as if she were family. I could go for this guy if I weren't already married to Edi. But I love him to death, and I would never risk our relationship. Still, this ... Jeff must have a relationship with a number of these women. They're all wearing wedding rings, and most of them treat him as if he is their husband. When Edi and I were looking for an office to rent for our business in Winter Park, I heard something about the Matthews. I asked a store clerk about them after Jeff called about the school. She was happy to share the latest gossip. If even half of it is true – oh, my. And Dave is a hunk, too. No matter,  she thought, shaking herself mentally, I need to get my mind back on business.

"Remember," Jeff cautioned, "we don't mind your using pictures of the school to display the work you've done, but none of us are to ever appear in any of those pictures, nor should you even say where the school is. We have trusted you on this. We were attacked once, and several of my family were seriously injured."

"I've given my word, Mr. Matthews. There are no references in any of my paperwork to the location of the school, per your instructions, nor is your name mentioned."

Jeff smiled as he thought, And I know you're telling the truth because one of the people you met was Fred. No one can lie to him, and he says your word is good.

Diana broke in with, "I know that you said you would be tied up on a new project for a couple of weeks, but now that you have moved to the Winter Park area, we would love to have you and your husband for supper sometime." Then with a chuckle, added, "Dinner to you city folks."

"You should come prepared to spend the night with us so you won't have to drive back down the mountain at night," Jeff added.

They continued to chat for a few minutes before Kei reached out a hand to touch the field that kept the butterflies in the room. "I have to confess," she said with a slight frown, "that when you told me to not worry about the door air curtains to contain the butterflies, I thought you were making a tremendous mistake. Even with the double doors, I was certain some of them would escape into the hallway, and eventually into the rest of the building."

She put her hand out to again touch the invisible barrier. "I didn't even notice this the first time I walked in after you had the butterflies installed. I suppose I was focused on the room or something. Still, I don't understand how it works. I felt it brush my hair when I walked back through it, and if I concentrate, I can certainly feel it with my hand, yet the feeling is ... subtle. It certainly works, though. I've seen several butterflies seemingly gently turned back, and obviously unharmed by it. And now that I know it's there, I can feel it at the other doors in here as well. What did you do, if you don't mind my asking?"

Diana took Jeff's arm, pulling herself against him, obviously proud of her mate. "It's his latest invention. A little like the air curtains you see at the entrance to indoor butterfly gardens, but a little different," Diana lied, perfectly straight-faced.

"Oh, I ... I guess I just didn't feel the puff of air when I walked through it. But it certainly works. I assume you have patented the principle," Kei said.

"Using Frank Wainwright's best patent attorneys."

"Wainwright? The billionaire?"

"Yeah," Jeff laughed. "He just left on his honeymoon yesterday."

Note: The "air curtain" that Diana lied about was indeed Jeff's latest invention. It had little to do with air, but was a weak forcefield in a plane formed between two parallel projectors. He has not yet managed to produce a dome shape, and the field is not strong – yet. But his efforts continue.

Dave cleared his throat and looked at his Prime. "Jeff, I have an idea."

"Something to do with a very talented young architect who has just struck out on her own after leaving a big outfit in Denver, maybe? Might have something to do with interior design for buildings in Midville, Wyoming?"

"Dead on," Dave chuckled.

"We are both way behind Frank. He told me a week ago to hire her. He's already talked to Ray Tingle." Turning ... to a very curious Kei, Jeff continued. "On behalf of Frank Wainwright, how about a helicopter trip for you and your husband to visit a town that Frank is putting back on the map. He has an architect to design the storefronts, but he is going to need your talent to design several hotels and other buildings. Interested?"

"Where is this ... Midville? I've never heard of it. I've just rented a building for my office here in Winter Park, and my husband and I have only now made the first payment on our home here. I..."

"The job won't last forever, but the town's expansion should take a couple of years at the very least. Many wealthy people will view your work as they visit the hotels and other buildings. A plaque with your name as the master architect will be displayed in a prominent place in the lobby of the hotels and other buildings that you design. Think what that could do for your career, not to say anything about making a very nice paycheck in the meantime."

Kei sucked in a breath. "My husband was not pleased when I quit the company I worked for and decided to open my own office here in Winter Park. He will shit when he hears about this." Slapping her hand over her mouth, "Oops. Sorryyyy."

Jeff just chuckled. "Frank said your helicopter rides to and from, as well as all expenses, will be paid while you are there. There is only one motel in town, but, should you prefer, we will set you up with a trailer where you could have an office, plus have plenty of room for living space – your husband included, of course."

Kei began to look faint. Diana grabbed her arm and guided her to a seat while Arlene ran to get her some water.

A moment later, the young woman took a gulp of the water as Diana smiled at her. "What does your husband do?" she asked, just to get the young woman's mind off things for a moment.

Kei let out a soft chuckle. "That's just it. He has a degree in business. We saved our money and were planning to do so for another year, but one of my bosses in Denver decided to get a little free with his hands. I slapped him in front of the owner. All the upper management people there are men. It was soon apparent they would all stick together and deny he did anything wrong, so trying to sue wasn't an option. I just told them the workplace atmosphere was unacceptable, and walked out.

"For several years, I had thought there was a niche for an architect here in Winter Park, so without a job, we took a gamble. I dragged my husband out here and we started our own business. You called the next week. If I get this job, we should be able to have a viable business."

Diana smiled at Kei. "The job is yours if you want it. Frank didn't want to distract you until the school was completed. He told Jeff to hire you, period, and gave him some general outlines to go by. I ... Look, this may be totally unnecessary, but I'm going to say it, anyway. As my husband would say, be straight with Frank and Ray Tingle. Ray is Frank's second in command, and Frank is gradually giving the reigns over to him. They are both honorable men. Hard to believe in today's business world, but they are, and ... they literally hate business people who aren't. Be fair with those two, never lie, and always give them the absolute truth. Do your best, and with your talent, they'll make you famous."

Kei sat looking at the Queen, barely able to believe what she had lucked into.

Then as if reading her mind, Diana said, "You didn't luck into this. Hard work and talent got it for you. Now call your husband and give him the good news."



-------

Chapter 187


Wanting to tell her husband in person about their good luck, the young architect, bubbling with happiness, had left to go surprise him with her news. Jeff, his women, Dave and his women, and Selina, had remained in the new school. Some of the girls made final adjustments or rearranged various things in their study cubicles while others checked out the lab or project areas.

A little later, Jeff and Diana were sitting on what had appeared to be a boulder until they reclined on it. The Queen had snuggled to her husband's shoulder as they watched the others hurry from one study area to another, disappearing into the foliage, only to reappear again to go and check out someone else's area. A few minutes later, Arlene walked over to her dad with all his younger wives following close behind her. Almost meekly, she stood with her hands clasped low in front of her.

"Humble, you are not," Jeff laughed, "although I do like the pose."

"Daddeee," she quietly said, trying to hold back a giggle. "We've all said thank you for the school, and we've tried to think of something that we could get for you to help say our thanks, but ... what can we possibly buy for you? We don't know enough about what you do in the lab to order something you might like that you don't already have, and Mom takes care of your clothes and other things. You have at least one of almost every gun there is..."

Jeff reached out to take her hands, pulling her closer to him, moved by her obvious sincerity. "I have everything I need or want, far more than most men could ever dream of, and that doesn't even include having all of you. I literally could not be any happier. Watching my loved ones checking out the school is more than enough thanks. Besides, everyone had input into this, and your mom, Helen and Laura did the most of it..."

"Wrong," Diana laughed. "You're the one who said this particular architect was the one. I thought the older guy would be the better of the ones we checked out."

"And..." Jeff continued, trying to divert what was quickly becoming an avenue of embarrassment to him, "the architect is the one responsible for furthering your basic idea. I had little to do with it."

"We know that Mom's idea started everything," Arlene agreed, "but I also know that you're deflecting me from finishing what I started to say. We, all of us," she said, indicating all the Prime's wives as everyone had now gathered around, "have decided that the only way we can even start to thank you is to give you a night of love." As Jeff started to say something, Arlene went quickly on. "Oh, we all make love almost every night, but tonight, we want it to be just us making love to you. We need you to..."

But then it started.

A series of events began when Solomon, the assistant to Greg McMasters, head of procurement at the hospital in Winter Park, decided that he wanted out. Remembering McMasters' threat made the assistant even more nervous about the association with his boss. On the way home from the park yesterday, Solomon had remembered the comments and innuendoes that had come from McMasters while they had worked together, then the open threat at the park. Solomon suspected that McMasters could be vicious in his personal life, and thinking back, Solomon remembered his many comments and half-completed sentences about revenge. At the time, he had thought that McMasters was exaggerating or bragging, but now he was wondering more and more.

Solomon couldn't get McMasters or the thefts off his mind. Sooner or later, he's going to see me as a liability, and he's going to kill me. Hmmm, that contractor he said screwed him? His comments about the guy never screwing over another customer could have meant anything. At the time, I thought McMasters had just not paid him, or maybe sued the guy, but thinking back, I wonder if I was just being naive. How long will it be before he decides that I'm too great a risk? Fuck! I told him that I would tell everything I knew if I got arrested. Shit. That was fucking dumb. Now the bastard will kill me for sure. He's probably already thinking about it – maybe even planning it. Oh, shit. I'm fucked.

Continuing to worry about the situation at work, Solomon had barely slept Sunday night, getting up this morning more tired than when he went to bed. The worry built as he sat brooding and looking out his kitchen window. Finally, he glanced at his watch, sighed, and got up. It was time to go. Grabbing a cinnamon roll and filling his go cup with coffee, he hurried out to his car. Halfway to the hospital, his worries still escalating, he suddenly pulled to the side of the road and threw up his breakfast, barely getting his window down before the roll came back with a vengeance.

After his stomach settled somewhat, he rinsed his mouth with coffee and just sat there. He could run, or he could go in and try to convince McMasters that he was fine with the thefts and his part in them, or...

He made up his mind.

Instead of parking in the back and coming in the usual way, which was much closer to their office, Solomon parked in the front. Entering through the main entrance, he didn't have to go by the Procurement office and could go straight to the Administrator's office without McMasters seeing him.

Solomon felt his pocket, yet again, to make sure the money was still there. I took two grand from McMasters. How fucking stupid is that? Two grand, and now my life is going to shit because of my greed. At least I got worried and didn't spend it, but that won't keep me from getting fired, or worse. Maybe much worse. No matter. I'm done with this, one way or the other. If they don't send me to jail, I'll find a job somewhere. At least I'm not married, and I have a little saved. I can move out of state and start over again – if they'll let me, and if McMasters doesn't kill me. And... if they don't seize my savings account. Oh, shit. I'm fucked, but I'm not getting in any deeper – this has to stop.

As he stood in front of the desk of the Administrator's secretary, she tried to put him off. "Mr. Adair told me he was not to be disturbed, and in addition to that, he has a meeting scheduled in thirty minutes, so you need to come back this afternoon."

"I need to see him now. Right now. It's serious."

Frustrated, sighing, she frowned at him. "All right. Just have a seat and I'll..."

But Solomon had already walked past her and was opening the Administrator's door.

-------

Charles Adair, the hospital Administrator, was in over his head. He had worried that he might be when he took the job, and recent weeks had made him almost certain. He wondered why anybody would want to take on a job with so many headaches, not to mention the potential conflicts between nursing personnel and management. If he had realized it would be this way, he would have never even interviewed for the job. His procurement people had assured him that they were diligently seeking the best price for quality merchandise, but the hospital was spending more each month.

He had thought it had been a good idea to hire Caitlin Hughes. She had considerable experience at the biggest hospital in Denver and came with outstanding recommendations from all her supervisors. Her change of employment was logical also, since she had moved to the Winter Park area. What better person to help alleviate some of the nurses' complaints about inferior equipment?

In her first days here, she had provided him with a list of equipment that was inferior, or "dangerous" according to her, yet Procurement quickly produced documentation that seemed to negate her claims. The new foundation had suddenly appeared and provided much-needed funds for his hospital, or at least had begun to, but after a few weeks, abruptly, the money had been cut off. No matter what he did, he couldn't get anyone at this mysterious foundation to respond to his calls.

He had supervisory access to any of the programs in the hospital. A couple of weeks ago, desperate, he began his own snooping. Unfortunately, he didn't know enough to be able to find anything of consequence. He had spent hours going over Central's records as they received equipment, no matter how minor the purchase, then he had tried to compare those transactions with Procurement's records. He had long since given up on the accounting software; he just didn't know enough about the system. But while he was searching almost fruitlessly through Procurement's records, he had found some files that he was blocked from accessing.

His son had gotten into trouble for breaking into the school's computer system. Adair had grounded him for two months and taken away his allowance for the same period of time, but ... even though his son had eventually gotten caught, he did have enough knowledge to break into the school's system.

He and his son had another "prayer meeting." The end result was that daddy now had a key logger that he quickly installed on Procurement's computers, and he had removed two weeks of his son's grounding and allowance suspension as payment for the logger. Saturday, Adair had easily accessed those blocked files and copied them to a USB drive, hopefully leaving no sign he had been in the system, locked up the Procurement office, and went back to his own office. Studying the files had not shed a lot of light on the subject of his search, however, but it was becoming obvious that there were two sets of procurement records.

The hospital expenditures for equipment went far beyond the requisitions such as the catheters and other small pieces of equipment that the nurses were bitching about, and ... Procurement had quickly ordered better equipment when he brought Hughes' complaints to their attention. But ... what about the enormous expense of the larger pieces of equipment? Now, with what seemed like duplicate procurement records with totally different figures, even he could see that something was drastically wrong.

Who could he trust? How deep did this go? Saturday afternoon, he had sat thinking for a time, unconsciously drumming his fingers on his desk as he wondered what to do. Getting up, still undecided, he had locked up and gone home.

When he entered his office this morning, his mind was made up. After giving his secretary instructions, he closed his office door, picked up the phone and dialed the Sheriff's office, telling dispatch that it was vitally important he speak personally with the Sheriff. He wouldn't be put off when the Sheriff's secretary suggested that a deputy could respond, but he demanded again to see the Sheriff, himself.

Sheriff Tate wasn't far away, but he had much rather be at home with his new wives. He had seriously thought about taking a couple weeks of vacation, but ... he dare not take any more time just yet. Better to wait until his new deputies had time to settle in.

He was scheduled to be in a meeting in twenty minutes, then later he was to speak at some type of Women's Auxiliary luncheon. This usually turned out to be in a meeting room of one of the hotels. Small, intimate. From past experience, he knew that the small meeting room would give some of the women an opportunity to rub his butt as he walked by. Oh, it would appear accidental, but it had happened too many times in the past to be anything other than deliberate. Still, he had to grin and bear it – they were voters, and in addition to that, had a lot of influence in the county. He hated being a politician. Why did the Sheriff's position have to be an elected one? Even though no one had run against him in the last election, that could change. Grin and bear it, he told himself again. But first, I have to see what the Administrator at the hospital wants. Probably has to do with some sort of function to make the hospital money,  he grumbled to himself.

-------

It was a typical Monday morning in Procurement. The phone seemed to be locked in ring mode. McMasters already had two people waiting to see him, and Solomon hadn't shown up yet. McMasters was muttering about Solomon, when the clerk sitting by his desk waiting for him to get off the phone, commented, "I saw him going into the administrator's office about twenty minutes ago."

McMasters jerked his head to stare at her. "You sure?" he asked, slamming the phone down. "He hasn't been in here, yet."

"Sure I'm sure," she said. "He was frowning and his face was pale. I assumed he was sick and stopped by to tell the administrator's secretary he was going home."

"That doesn't make sense. I'm his boss. He should tell me if he's leaving, or not coming in. He's never called off sick," he finished, almost to himself.

The first block of doubt slid into place.

McMasters, now worried that Solomon had decided to squeal on him, got up and left his office without asking what the clerks wanted, which pissed them off bigtime. "Asshole," one muttered. The two looked at each other, then left through the other door in disgust, tired of waiting.

As McMasters stepped into the hallway, he paused to think. After a moment, he turned right to start down the hall. As he did so, he noticed Caitlin turn the corner from the intersecting hallway that went toward the Administrator's office. The frown on her face and the tight set of her lips further worried him. Glancing to his left, he saw Sheriff Tate coming through the back door with a look on his face that McMasters interpreted as determination. To top it off, Tate put his hands on his gun belt for an instant, settling it more comfortably on his hips after riding in his vehicle, but McMasters interpreted the movement as Tate getting his weapon ready in case he needed it.

Blocks number two and three slid into place in McMasters' mind, and the doubts were quickly turning to a certainty that things were going bad for him – really bad.

Fuck that damn Solomon. That bastard has squealed on me.

-------

Solomon had walked into the Administrator's office and tossed the roll of money he had received from McMasters onto Adair's desk, blurting out everything he knew about McMasters' kickbacks and double-dealing while the Administrator sat stunned. The one thing Adair was sure of was that he had done the right thing by calling for the Sheriff. He'll straighten this mess out, and there will be at least one of my procurement people in jail, shortly,  he thought as he finally managed to get Solomon to sit.

-------

In the hallway, as Caitlin drew near to McMasters, her thoughts on a patient that wasn't doing well, she finally looked up to see Quinton Tate. Just as she took a breath to ask who he had come to visit, McMasters mind dropped the last block into place and he reached out to grab an unsuspecting Caitlin.

Non-uniform supervisory personnel at the hospital were required to wear business apparel. With the men, this was a suit. Now McMasters was glad of the suit, irritation or not, because the jacket concealed the Beretta 92 FS he always carried.

He snatched Caitlin to him, locking his left arm around her neck and pushing the barrel of the 9 mm against her temple. "Stop right fucking there!" he screamed out at Tate.

Sheriff Tate's Monday suddenly took a nosedive from irritation to chaos. Training took over. His .45 was in his hand without conscious thought as he keyed his mike, said, "Clear channel!" in a command voice, then locked the mike button down. (He had liked what Joyce had done when she had faced the maniac who was holding Alesha at gunpoint, and Tate had instituted the new policy the next day. Now he followed that very same policy to transmit what was going on to everyone on the frequency.)

"I'll kill this meddling bitch if you take one step closer."

"That gun isn't the answer, my friend," Tate said in a calm voice, not only speaking to McMasters, but via the radio to all the deputies on the channel.

The Sergeant in charge of dispatch had just poured his second cup of coffee of the morning when the Sheriff's voice came over the radio. Throwing the full cup in the general direction of a waste can, he took the two steps to the nearest dispatcher, opening his mouth to tell her what to do, but she was already on Tact 2 giving Tate's location and repeating that he had called for a clear channel and there was a gun involved.

The county came alive. Deputies out taking reports slammed their pads closed and sprinted for their vehicles. Other deputies turned their vehicles toward Winter Park and accelerated. A second dispatcher was notifying the Winter Park police department what was going on. As the Shift Lieutenant came on the radio to determine who was nearest the hospital, and began giving out orders, the distinct sound of the cruiser's big motor winding up in the background was a backdrop to those calm orders. "Cut your sirens and lights a half mile away. Go in quietly," he continued. "We don't want to make the perp any more nervous than he probably already is."

"I'm in the hallway by the Procurement Office at the hospital," Tate quietly said, then continued in a normal voice to McMasters, "Just take it easy. We can fix whatever is wrong."

McMasters couldn't hear the radio traffic from Tate's radio, because the Sheriff, not wanting to disturb patients, had switched it to his ear bud before entering the hospital.

Tate was hoping that McMasters hadn't taken the safety off, but that thought died a quick death as the Sheriff heard the snick of the safety being disengaged. He knew the 92 was double action, (The weapon did not have to be cocked to be fired) but at least the hammer wasn't cocked. Even as the thought crossed Tate's mind, McMasters pulled the hammer back. Now just the slightest pull on the trigger would fire the weapon.

"Easy," Tate hissed out. "Whether you pull that trigger accidentally or you do it on purpose, you'll be a dead man a quarter second after that gun fires. I couldn't miss from this distance if I closed my eyes. You kill her; you're dead. Make no mistake about that. You need to calm down so we can talk. No one needs to die here."

"Fuck you. I'm not going to jail."

"Nobody said you were," Tate said, his voice remaining calm as his mind clamored for a way out of this. "Nothing is set in stone until you pull that trigger. Stop. Just take a deep breath and let's talk about this – whatever it is. I have no idea what's going on. I came by to visit a deputy's wife who just had a baby," he lied. That was his last visit, but he wasn't going to tell McMasters that the Administrator had called for him to come by.

The bastard would have to pick Caitlin,  he thought. Somehow, I need to be objective, treat this just as I would any hostage situation. I've been trained as a hostage negotiator, and my whole department has trained many times for this kind of thing. Too bad Caitlin isn't a deputy; it would make things a lot easier if I have to take this idiot out. Focus on the job, not Caitlin. Worrying about her will get her killed. Focus. Focus. What does this fool want? What can I do to get his mind off killing her?

"You need to drop that gun and get out of here," McMasters raved. "If you don't, I swear I'll kill her," he yelled as he tightened his grip on Caitlin and pressed the muzzle of the gun harder against her temple.

He's crazy,  Caitlin thought as pain coursed through her neck when he jerked her about. Her emotions built as she felt the trembling in her assailant. She tried to calm herself, but her mind kept screaming, I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Oh, Jeff. I won't ever get to see you again. Jeff, help me! she screamed out in her mind. The thought of never seeing her mate was worse than the fear of the madman who was raving in her ear.

"What's wrong?" Tate asked, trying to get McMasters' mind off killing Caitlin. "What can I do to fix things?"

"Put your fucking gun down for starters," McMasters screamed.

THE RETREAT

Jeff, again sitting with Diana in his lap as the couple watched the others continue to explore the new classroom, suddenly tensed.

"Caitlin's in trouble," he hissed out, coming to his feet and setting Diana onto her feet with a jar. Arlene and Kayla were only a short distance away and heard him as he turned and dashed for the door. With a quick glance at each other, the three women sprinted in pursuit of their husband.

The stairway to the living room was closer, and the wives rushed down the curving stairs trying vainly to keep up with Jeff. A few seconds later as they ran down the hallway toward the inside garage, Arlene slammed a hand into a large flowerpot on a pedestal, overturning the pot onto the carpet. Snatching the Glock that was hidden under the pot, she ducked her head and ran for all she was worth. Kayla was better able to match Jeff's speed, but she barely made it into the inside garage as her Prime started an Escalade and hit the remote to raise the garage door.

Kayla snatched a rear door open and piled in, reaching up to grab her mate's shoulder. "Wait," she yelled, "they're almost here." A few seconds later, Arlene scrambled into the back as Diana dove into the front passenger seat. She barely got her door closed as Jeff powered the vehicle backward, slewing it around in the lot to point it toward the driveway.

"Caitlin's in trouble," Jeff ground out as he floored the SUV even as Diana fought against the acceleration to open a hidden compartment and arm herself.

Jeff had alerted Security via his radio as he was sprinting for the Escalade.

"How do you know?" Kayla got out as she struggled with her seat belt.

"Felt her. I got a flash of the scene for a second. Someone has a gun to her head. Quinton is there, too." He didn't mention that Caitlin thought she was going to die and Tate had his gun in his hand.

Even as Jeff raced the SUV down the driveway, the Ready attack helicopter's rotor began spinning up. The pilot and gunner of the second helicopter sprinted for their ship followed closely by the pilot and copilot of the big troop helicopter. Only a few steps behind them, Security and part of Jeff's team were gaining rapidly. Half of Jeff's team were training in the rough terrain several miles away and would not be able to get back in time.

Carter had been ordered to take the day off because of a slip yesterday that produced a moderately sprained ankle. He was sitting near his bunk, dressed in his fatigue pants and tee shirt with one boot off and the foot of the offending ankle elevated on a pillow. He had been mostly asleep as he daydreamed of a girl he had dated a few weeks past. The wail of the siren shattered his dreams and was followed by the gong that meant the Colonel was in trouble. Carter slammed his bare foot into his boot, sprain forgotten, jammed his helmet on his head, grabbed his shirt, equipment belt and rifle, and joined the others sprinting for the door.

A Security SUV was only a few feet from the front door and was just beginning to move when a trooper slammed the door open for Carter to dive in.

"What's happening?" the big man almost yelled as he struggled to snap the latch of his equipment belt closed. He didn't bother with his shirt, just tossed it behind his seat.

Security and Carter had farther to go from the Ski Lodge to the bottom of the Matthews' driveway, but their road was much straighter and didn't have the switchbacks that the driveway had. Even so, they were barely in time to see Jeff slew the Escalade onto the county road.

One of the attack helicopters roared past, then going into stealth mode, went silent. Barely above the treetops, it circled as its crew checked for nearby dangers. Soon, the other attack helicopter silently passed much higher up as it ranged on ahead, its crew searching the road in front of the Colonel's vehicle.

"Fuck," Sergeant Higgins, driving, yelled in frustration as he watched his Colonel's Escalade widening the gap between the vehicles.

Inside Jeff's Escalade, the Prime's frustration was building. Fuck these damn curves. We'll never get there in time. Fuck this shit, he raved in his mind. I wish...  Then he knew.

"Jeff. Jeff!" Diana cried out, trying and failing to keep her voice calm. "You're going too fast. If we don't get there, we can't help her. You'll never make that curve."

Diana couldn't believe their perfect lives were going to end like this. A glance at the speedometer didn't help her horror as she saw that the hand was nearing eighty. The next curve was a switchback. Although the switchbacks were much farther apart than on the driveway, there still were several on the high mountain road. The engineers who built the road were faced with multiple areas where the rough terrain required curves and switchbacks rather than the enormous expense of filling in hundred foot drops or grading off high areas. Consequently the road looked like a drunken snake had designed it.

Jeff's frustration had keyed something. Something he didn't have a name for, but suddenly he knew he could do it, and ... he could feel Little One somehow feeding him power. Diana closed her eyes, knowing she was about to die. At least, I'll be with the man I love,  she thought as they entered the curve and she felt the big vehicle lean, then begin to slip sideways. They were turning left, so she had an excellent view of the drop outside her window when she opened her eyes for a second, then snapped them closed again and prayed.

Kayla and Arlene fumbled to grab each other's hands, Arlene smiling for some reason while Kayla's face drained of color.

As the vehicle's tires began to lose traction, they all felt as if something pushed against the side of the SUV, and maybe even pushed downward as well. Diana opened her eyes, expecting them to be falling past the cliff, but they were still on the road as Jeff maneuvered the big vehicle out of the curve, got off the brakes and slammed his foot down on the accelerator again.

Behind Jeff's SUV, Carter screamed, "Back off. Back off," to Sergeant Higgins as they approached the first switchback that Jeff had just negotiated. "He's already a quarter mile ahead of us. We can't keep up with him."

"Bullshit," the Sergeant muttered. "Our vehicles are virtually identical. If he can do it, so can we."

"No. No!" Carter went on. "I've seen him do things that none of us could do – and do them again and again in combat. You'll roll us, or put us down the side of the mountain if you try to stay with him. Just get us there and quit trying to catch him. Nobody is going to belittle you for not being able to keep up with the Colonel."

Reluctantly, knowing the trooper was right, the Sergeant backed off, still taking the curves at a speed well beyond safe limits, but at least slowing down enough to give them a chance to make the turns.

-------

As soon as Jeff had notified Security while he was running down the hall, the unit had gone to full alert. Weapons on the mountain peaks went from Standby to Active as Jeff's new radar began actively searching for intruders. At the revamped ski lodge, there was controlled chaos as supervisors snapped out orders – most unnecessarily – as technicians did the job they had trained ad nauseam to do. Most were now very pleased that the training had been so continuous and intense. They knew what to do and they had leading edge equipment to do it with. They had surround views from cameras and sensors in all the helicopters as well as all the troopers' helmets. Satellites gave them a view from space, and that view could zoom in until the tech could see the color of a person's eyes if he or she were on the ground looking up.

Cameras and sensors along the first twenty miles of county roads added to the mix as well as those scattered throughout the Matthews' property. The main base quickly joined to offer advice and additional technology, but command was left up to the supervisors on scene. Lieutenant Mayfield, much to his embarrassment, had barely managed to get in the second Security SUV as it left the ski lodge.

Before Jeff's vehicle was even down the driveway, Security was patched into the Sheriff's frequency. A phone call to the Sheriff's dispatch brought a revelation. They had expected to get little information there, but when the supervisor mentioned that they were Jeff Matthews' security, they were suddenly talking to the dispatch Sergeant.

"We have written orders to give you any information we have if Mr. Matthews or his family is involved. If you have a second line, I can call you back with a direct feed to our channel, also orders from the Sheriff."

"The feed isn't necessary. We're monitoring your frequencies already."

The dispatch Sergeant almost said that the frequencies were encrypted and it would be impossible for Security to monitor without one of the department radios, but he stopped himself just in time. Instead, "Here's what we know so far..."

-------

Part of the Security force, not having time to don their camouflage suits, surrounded the Retreat itself, taking up positions in case this was a diversion to expose the Colonel's family to attack or kidnapping. They had practiced donning the suits in the snow. Now they did it without thought.

The rapid response team that Carter had insinuated himself into hadn't had time to put their camouflage suits on, but had brought them as part of their gear. The Security troopers that used the big troop helicopter, didn't have time to don their suits, either, but did have time to snatch them up with the rest of their equipment as they ran for their helicopter. Now the training of putting the suits on under adverse conditions proved its worth.

-------

When their vehicle didn't plunge off the cliff, Diana opened her eyes to glance at her husband. His face was set, a look of deep concentration etched onto it as large droplets of sweat beaded his forehead. He seemed to either be hard on the brake or hard on the accelerator all the time. The Escalade groaned on the curves as something seemed to push from the side of their potential skid, forcing the big vehicle to remain on the road.

Although the top of the mountain had been clear when they left, there was a low flying cloud that thickened as they lost elevation. The nearer they got to the bottom of the mountain, the thicker the cloud was. Lower elevation in Winter Park is a relative concept, however, because the elevation of the town itself is approximately eighty-five hundred feet.

Now well ahead of Security's SUV's, Jeff and his women roared past Martha's restaurant.

Slewing onto Highway 40, Jeff stomped the accelerator to the floor and held it there, the big engine, enhanced by a modified chip that improved its horsepower and also took out the motor's high end governor, seemed to roar out its joy as it hurtled them down the highway, Diana, now with her eyes closed again, and Kayla and Arlene holding hands and grinning from ear to ear. If the fog/cloud bothered Jeff, he gave no indication of it.

THE RETREAT

In the classroom, no one knew what was happening, but Susan had managed to hear Jeff say something about Caitlin being in trouble. All Jeff's wives that were still at the Retreat, in addition to Selina, and Dave's wives grasped hands and knelt to pray. Art and the nurses were in their suite and hadn't yet heard what had happened.

THE HOSPITAL

Sheriff Tate had remained outwardly calm, but his mind raced as he continued to try to talk McMasters into letting Caitlin go. "If you put that gun down, and don't hurt the nurse or anyone else, I'll let you walk out of here."

"You lying cocksucker, " McMasters screamed, "you're trying to set me up."

"No, I'm not. My word is good. If you put the gun down and let her go, I'll give you twenty-four hours before we even start looking for you. My word."

"You're lying. You'll have a sniper shoot me as soon as I walk out of this hospital. Now your time is..."

"We'll let you drive away, and if you don't hurt anyone, we won't do a thing for twenty-four hours. That's a promise. But no guns. You leave without any type of weapon. I go back into office every election year because I try to conduct myself as an honorable man should. If I violate that by failing to keep my word, no one would vote for me in the next election. It would be political suicide if I or any of my people tried to arrest you after I've given my word. You can win this thing by just putting your gun on the floor, then walk out of here. Think about it."

For a moment, McMasters seemed to be thinking favorably of Tate's idea, but suddenly, he appeared to change his mind. "Just cop talk," he raged at the Sheriff. "Cops always lie. You're really beginning to piss me off."

But then Tate saw something.



-------

Chapter 188


 ... But then Tate saw something. Caitlin had just winked at him, a slow deliberate wink, obviously meant to get his attention. Out of McMasters' sight, she slid her right hand casually down to her thigh, spreading her index and middle fingers as far apart as she could make them go. The wink in addition to the movement and positioning of her hand and fingers alerted the Sheriff.

Oh, bless you, Joyce. You told your sister-wife about our hostage training,  Tate thought.

Each time the deputies trained on the firing range, they also practiced taking down a perp who held a deputy hostage with a gun to his or her head. I wonder if Caitlin actually practiced this, or just remembers Joyce telling her about it.

Tate turned his right boot a little outward in acknowledgment. He could see Caitlin shift her eyes downward to look at his foot, then back up to stare him in the eye just as he and his deputies had trained.

"I don't want to die," she said in a trembling voice, stressing the last word at the same time she changed her fingers into a fist with her index finger pointed downward.

One,  Tate thought.

McMasters continued to rave, obviously becoming more and more unhinged.

After a moment, Caitlin whimpered, "I don't want to die." Again, stressing the last word.

Tate didn't have to look to see if she were showing two fingers now – he knew. Two,  he thought, the focus on his sights now taking up almost his entire being as he waited for Caitlin's command to fire. The hostage deputy was always in charge of the shoot – no shoot. It was the hostage deputy's life at stake. Now the nurse was making that decision. But Tate was worried. If she hesitated at the last moment ... He didn't even want to think about the consequences.

"What the fuck is going on with you two?" McMasters yelled. "I know you're doing something."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Caitlin whined. "I'm so scared, but I don't want to die." Timed to the word "die," she relaxed and dropped just as she uttered the last word.

Her weight suddenly jerked against McMasters' arm, her full weight slamming past. As hard as he was holding her, his forearm raked across her nose and face, but she didn't even feel the pain. Caitlin and Tate knew she would drop, and exactly when. "When" being the third time Caitlin stressed out the word die,  but McMasters reflexes would have had to cut in before he could react. By then, Caitlin's head was well away from the gun, and Tate's .45 roared, the big round catching McMasters on his right eyebrow. The bullet passed through and out the back of his head turning his brain to mush, splattering a trail of blood and gore before expending the last of the bullet's energy on the cinder block wall thirty feet behind Caitlin and McMasters.

Caitlin was suddenly sitting on her butt with McMasters' dead body slumped over her, crushing her forward, his head gushing blood. "He's bleeding all over me," she hissed out as she struggled to get him off her. Quinton automatically holstered his weapon. A second later, he stooped over, and with an enhanced Alpha's strength, grabbed McMasters by the hair, slinging his dead body away from Caitlin.

"You okay, Baby?" Tate choked out as she reached for him. He pulled her to her feet as the hallway exploded with deputies. "It's over and the hostage is fine," Tate told dispatch just before he released the mike button to return to its normal position. "Let's go sit down and wait for your husband," Quinton managed to get out as he fought to keep his hands from shaking due to the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"I've got blood all over me," Caitlin sniffed. "I hope that bastard doesn't have AIDS." Then focusing on Quinton, "You'll get blood on your nice uniform," she said almost inanely, fighting the shock of what had just happened to her.

"Hush, Baby," the big man said as he scooped her into his arms, walked into McMasters' office and sat down in the dead man's chair with Caitlin in his lap.

Caitlin turned her face to his shoulder and quietly sobbed, her body shaking.

"You did great,  Baby," he whispered in her ear while gently patting her back. "I'm proud of you, and your husband will be, too. I've trained for that dozens of times and I've never seen a deputy do it better."

"Joyce saved my life," she whispered, then repeated, "She saved my life."

"Both our lives, most probably," Tate agreed.

"She made us all practice it," Caitlin said with a shiver. "I griped about it and reminded her I was a nurse and not a deputy, insisting I would never need that type of training, but that made no difference, period. She made me practice, anyway. She made all of us practice. And ... your wives should be proud of you, too. I knew I would live when I saw you acknowledge that I knew the procedure. I'll never forget that you killed that man to save me. Never."

"I don't think I've ever heard it called a procedure before," Tate chuckled. "But you did it perfectly, whatever you want to call it."

The Shift Lieutenant stepped into the office doorway and cleared his throat. "Does any of that blood happen to belong to either of you?" he quietly asked, "I have a doctor and nurse standing by just around the corner."

Tate shook his head. "No, all of it is the perp's. Just have someone get Caitlin some water, and ... escort her husband in when he gets here."

The Lieutenant said something to someone in the hall before turning back to the Sheriff.

"Dispatch told me they had talked to Matthews' Security, per your instructions," the Lieutenant said, "but it will probably be a while..."

"He'll be here very soon," Tate insisted. "Just let the deputies know that no one is to try to stop him, then you, personally,  escort him in."

"Yes, Sir. Uh, Sir, there's another oddity about this morning. There's a big helicopter sitting at the far end of the parking lot. I can see the two pilots, and the big door is open on the side of the thing, but no one has gotten out. One of the deputies said he saw another helicopter go over, but because of the low cloud cover, it disappeared before he could get a really good look at it. Another odd thing: it wasn't making any noise. He said it looked a little like an Apache, but its weapon pods seemed wrong, somehow. Do you have any idea what they're doing here?"

Tate forced a chuckle. "No, but just ignore both choppers, and make sure no one approaches the chopper in the lot. No one, Lieutenant. Understand?"

"Yes, Sheriff. I've already told my people to make sure the copter isn't approached. What's going on, Sir?"

"Let's just say that dead fool in the hallway poked a hornet's nest." As the Lieutenant turned to leave, "Oh, Lieutenant, make sure the news media doesn't get within a block of here. Hostage situation and so forth. Unsafe for them. You know the drill."

A deputy handed the Lieutenant two bottles of water, which he gave to Tate and Caitlin.

"Thank you," Caitlin said before gulping down a third of the bottle.

"Uh, Sir. A couple of other things. Our cell phones, and apparently everyone else's around here, have stopped working. Land lines too. Seems the same thing has happened for radio transmissions, with the exception of our two channels. The only communications going in or out of here are ours."

"Go watch for Mr. Matthews. He'll be here momentarily."

"Yes, Sir."

-------

A few minutes earlier, the Administrator's secretary had just walked back into Adair's office to give the latest report on the hostage situation. Solomon, nervous, jumped to his feet to badger her with questions she didn't know the answer to. Just as she opened her mouth to tell them the little she knew, Tate pulled the trigger on his .45.

The blast of sound from the big-bore weapon echoing through the halls did it. Solomon hissed in a deep breath and fainted, going over backward and hitting his head with a thud on the carpeted floor.

The Administrator jumped from the sound of the .45, then trying to sound calm and in control, although his breaking voice belied his efforts, he remarked, "Uh, I assume our hostage situation has reached a conclusion." Shaking, he stood to look over his desk at the Procurement assistant lying on the floor. "Hmmmm, I've never seen anyone's eyes do that," he said, indicating Solomon lying there with his eyes rolled back in his head. "Do you suppose that hurts?" he asked as he tried to cover his own terror.

"Should I send the deputy after a doctor?" his secretary asked. "None of our phones will work."

"No," Adair said as he sat back in his chair, "but you can tell the deputy in the hallway that one of the people I wanted to talk to the Sheriff about has passed out in my office."

-------

A few minutes later, Solomon awakened to find that his hands were behind his back and he couldn't seem to make them move very much. Panic set in again as he struggled to sit upright, his mind still groggy. What's wrong with my arms? he thought, but then realized there was a deputy and a cop sitting not far from him.

"If you keep struggling, those cuffs are going to bite into your wrists," the deputy commented. "As soon as I finish this report, we'll get you to headquarters and processed."

"Wha..." Solomon got out. "I'm ... I'm under arrest? What about the gunshot?"

The deputy ignored Solomon's question about the gunshot. "We're going to hold you until we find out what has been going on. I'm almost finished with the preliminary report."

"I ... think I need a lawyer," Solomon said with resignation.

"When we get to headquarters, we'll let you use the phone. Just sit tight for now."

"But what about the gunshot?"

"Need to know," the deputy snapped back at him, "and you don't."

-------

Jeff had been notified that Caitlin was fine and was with Sheriff Tate. The Prime had slowed to a fairly reasonable speed, at least in his mind, though his worries continued, albeit to a much lesser degree. As they neared the hospital, there were Sheriff's vehicles and two Winter Park police cars scattered near the hospital, not to mention Security's copter sitting on the back side of the lot, its big door open. Jeff almost smiled as he realized that this would be a good test of the camouflage suits in an urban environment, but then his frown returned as he worried about Caitlin.

Jeff's escorting helicopter took up a position a half mile out to the west, so the two copters wouldn't be in each other's line of fire, should something happen. Friend or foe capabilities should work, but better to not have to rely on them. Due to the low cloud, the only one who could see the copters was Jeff.

A deputy waved to the Matthews and motioned for them to park near the back entrance to the hospital. When they came to a stop, the Shift Lieutenant reached to open Jeff's door. "She's fine, Sir. Not a scratch on her, thanks to Sheriff Tate."

Jeff forced a smile. "Good. Thanks for letting me know so quickly."

Before the Lieutenant could continue, Diana, Arlene and Kayla piled out in a rush. Remembering what the Sheriff had put into written orders, he addressed Jeff, "Uh, Sir, your, uh..."

"Wife," Jeff offered.

"Uh, she's unhurt as I said, and I'm to escort you in. She has some blood on her, but it's the perp's. Just stay on the right side of the hallway and follow behind me so you don't step in the blood."

But Jeff was already through the back door before the Lieutenant managed to get in front of him. The three women pushed past as they hurried after their husband.

As Jeff stepped into the office, Caitlin dropped her bottle of water, took a couple of running steps and crashed into her mate's arms. Tate, grinning, snatched the bottle off the floor before much water could spill.

"Blood," Diana said.

"Not hers," Quinton got out. "It belongs to the ass in the hallway."

"Baby. Baby. Baby," Jeff said, cuddling his wife to him as she sobbed on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Uh huh," she sniffed past her tears. "Quinton killed him, or I would be ... dead by now."

Jeff directed a glance at Tate, and with the briefest nod of the Prime's head, he communicated his thanks. Somehow, Tate felt those thanks, and the big man blushed.

Diana walked over to Quinton and leaned to gently kiss him on the lips. Backing off a few inches, "Thank you," she quietly said. "We can never repay you for what you did."

Tate, flustered, managed, "I couldn't let her get hurt, and besides, Joyce is the one who really saved her when she taught Caitlin the thing about hostages."

"You mean where you drop so the officer can shoot safely?" Diana asked with a frown.

By now, everyone in the room was listening. "Yeah. She was perfect."

"Joyce taught all of us."

"Yeah, that's what Caitlin told me," the Sheriff remarked.

"Joyce will be here in a few minutes," Jeff commented after listening to his radio for a moment. "Security is bringing her in another vehicle. What do you want us to do, Quinton? When can I take Caitlin home?"

Tate sighed. "It's out of my hands now. As you know, our policy is to have a neighboring county investigate, since it's an officer-involved shooting. We have an agreement with four counties. The dispatch Sergeant would have called the next one on the rotation list by now. They'll probably be here shortly, but I'll ask that Caitlin be allowed to go home. They can interview her there just as easily as here. She needs time to settle down, anyway. Just follow the investigator's instructions when he or she gets here."

"And you?" Jeff asked. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"And ... have you called your wives?" Diana asked. "If the news media hears about this, it will be on TV in a heartbeat. You know the four of them will be scared to death until they hear from you."

"Phones are out here at the hospital. I suspect you know something about that," Tate said with a chuckle.

Jeff took a small phone from his pocket. "This one will work."

-------

Tate made the phone call, but it had taken him longer to convince his wives that they should not come to check on him than it did to briefly describe what had happened with the hostage situation.

A little later, still in the large Procurement office, Jeff was sitting in McMasters' chair with Caitlin snuggled on his lap, while Sheriff Tate sat in Solomon's chair. Diana, Arlene and Kayla were all sitting nearby.

A man and woman, both wearing casual clothing, stepped into the office. Each had a holstered sidearm with a badge on the belt just in front of the holster. Tate noted the woman's weapon was a Glock 19, which he knew to be standard issue from her department, but the man wore a snubnosed .38 tucked high on his belt. The woman was carrying a small case. "Are you Sheriff Tate," the man asked?

"Guilty," Tate said.

"I'm Detective Bucker Fullman, and this is my evidence tech, Ruth Cunningham. Who are the people immediately involved in this?"

The detective didn't offer to shake hands, but the woman did. Tate frowned at the detective's abrupt manner, but answered, "I did the shooting. Ms. Hughes there," he said, motioning, "was the hostage."

Fullman swept his hand out to indicate Jeff and his other wives. "Any of these people involved?"

"No," Tate said.

"All right, I need everyone other than the Sheriff and Ms. Hughes to vacate this room. I'll use it as my office." Turning to Jeff and his women, "You can leave your contact information with my tech."

"Tate, I need one of your people to escort this woman to your headquarters and secure her in an interview room. She's to speak to no one. Do I make myself clear?"

Tate stood, his face beginning to flush as he tried to hold his temper. "You do understand that Ms. Hughes is the victim, not a suspect, don't you?"

"Certainly, I do. That's the reason I want her secluded from contact with anyone until I can question her."

"You mean interview her, don't you Detective?"

"Whatever," he said. "I do know this, Sheriff. I'm in charge of this investigation, and since you're the shooter, you have no say in anything I do."

Jeff came to his feet, calmly set Caitlin on her feet and turned to the detective. "My wife isn't going anywhere without me, and she certainly isn't going to be 'secluded' in an interview room to await your pleasure. She's going home to a nice warm bath and a change of clothing. You're welcome to my home to interview her at your convenience..."

The detective smirked. "I can have you arrested for interfering with an investigation. You had better..."

But Jeff had taken the two steps to put him in the detective's personal space. As he leaned to glare down at the obnoxious investigator, their faces only inches apart, Tate interrupted to say, "I'm perfectly willing to do anything you wish, but you will treat the victim with respect." Before Jeff could say anything, Tate grabbed the detective by the arm and muscled him into the hallway.

Several deputies looked up, then grinned as they realized that the detective had obviously pissed off their boss.

With Tate's face close to the detective's, the big Sheriff continued, "Look, I don't know why you have an attitude, but let me tell you a tale. When I first met the man in there that was a gnat's hair from snapping you in half, he and his family had come to my office to ask for carry permits. Since he didn't ask for himself, I made a comment, and he showed me his federal carry permit. Well, I had never seen one before, so I had someone check it out. To shorten the story, very soon I was talking to a very pissed off FBI agent – a very high ranking one.

"Now think about that. In just a few minutes after we ran the permit through NCIC, we got a call back – from an FBI supervisor. He was not pleased that I appeared to be checking on Mr. Matthews. Now if my just running his permit through NCIC caused that reaction from the FBI, what the fuck do you think would happen if you decided to screw over his wife, huh?"

The investigator snarled back, "Well, that may be, but..."

Tate lost it. Grabbing Fullman by the collar he practically dragged him into the bathroom on the other side of the hallway. The deputies in the hallway decided they had not seen anything. Inside the bathroom, with the door closed, Tate slammed the detective against a wall. "You touch that pissy little gun on your hip, and I'll cram it up your ass. Just stand right fucking there, before I entirely lose my temper."

The detective had already tried with all his strength to stop Tate, but if the big man noticed, he had given no indication. With Tate's face only inches from his own, the detective had to concentrate to keep from urinating on himself.

"Well maybe..."

"Shut the fuck up," Tate snarled as he dialed Jeff's phone. Then, "Harold, this is Quinton. I have a fucking problem with the investigator you..."

"I apologize, Quinton," the other Sheriff interrupted. "I was afraid there would be problems, but he's absolutely the only detective I could break loose to send. We have a friggin' double homicide, plus a head on collision with multiple fatalities. He's already been disciplined once about his obnoxious attitude. What about the tech?"

"She hasn't opened her mouth and is doing her job. Harold, this is cut and dried. I shot a perp to keep him from killing a nurse. I tried to negotiate with him, but it didn't work. There are cameras on either end of the hall that recorded everything, and in addition, I had my mike open the whole time."

"All right, do this for me. Have your investigative people do it and I'll have a detective over as soon as I can free one of them up. But, it might be tomorrow."

"I could call another county, I suppose," Tate said, "but we can only keep this part of the hospital shut down so long."

"No, just have your people do it using my tech, and send that piece of shit investigator home. He'll be in uniform tonight and I will make personally sure his shift commander will have a very nice job waiting for him – cleaning out shit houses or something of like nature. I apologize, Quinton. I already owe you bigtime, now this."

"All right. I'll call my people in, and I'm going to send the hostage home to be with her family and get out of the bloody clothes she has on. We can interview her tomorrow when she's calmed down. Hell, I'm rattled too, I guess. I thought for sure that he was going to kill her."

"Is my investigator anywhere near?"

"Yeah, he and I are in a bathroom and I've got him backed against a wall. I'm giving him the phone. I appreciate it, Harold."

"No problem. Now let me talk to him."

The conversation took only seconds. The detective handed back the phone. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the bathroom, then out of the building.

A flush-faced Joyce entered the back door.

"She's in there," Tate told her, motioning toward the Procurement office. Joyce, her face wearing a troubled expression, hurried into the office.

After spending some time talking to the shift Lieutenant, Tate went back into the Procurement office. Joyce had a chair pulled near and was hugging her sister-wife and quietly conversing with her as Caitlin remained on Jeff's lap.

Tate stood watching for a moment, then went over. As Caitlin looked up at him, he leaned over and gently kissed her on the forehead. "You're one hell of a woman," he quietly said to her. Then to Jeff, "Take her home. My wives and I will be up later today." Then addressing Caitlin again, "I'll have one of my investigators call tomorrow to set up an appointment to interview you, if that's all right."

"I can talk to him today. Just give me a chance to clean up a bit."

"No," Tate said with emphasis. "I'm told the hospital has videos of everything, and we have an audio record of my transmission of the incident as well. My investigators are going to take over. They'll do a thorough job. A detective will be over tomorrow to review everything and sign off on it. I talked to the investigator's Sheriff. The investigator apparently has problems with authority. In other words, he becomes an ass when given any authority. I don't think he'll have to worry about having too much of that in the near future. His Sheriff says he'll be back in uniform by tonight.

"Again, thank you for taking the time to learn the Hostage Drop. Things might well have gone differently if you hadn't. I'll guarantee you my people will be more respectful of your feelings than that idiot when they talk to you tomorrow."

Caitlin hugged him, then gently kissed his lips, still fighting back tears. "Thank you with all my heart, Quinton."

Jeff tucked Caitlin under his arm as Diana, Arlene, Kayla and Joyce kissed the Sheriff on his cheek, thanked him for saving their sister-wife, then followed their mate out the door, each glancing at the sheet covered body on the hallway floor as they passed.

As they got into the Escalade, Jeff had to slam his door twice to get it to catch. Both sides of the Escalade were wrinkled as if a giant hand had pushed against the vehicle.

Caitlin was sitting between Arlene and Joyce in the second seat, their arms wrapped around the blood-covered nurse. Kayla sat in the third seat, a hand reaching forward to rest on Caitlin's shoulder.

"What did you do, Baby?" Diana asked when they were back on highway 40 and headed out of Winter Park.

"Do about what?" Jeff tried to innocently ask.

"Jeff, don't start with me. I'm on edge enough as it is. Thank goodness I had gone to the bathroom just before you ... found out about Caitlin, otherwise, I would have peed all over the seat. Both sides of this Escalade are wrinkled like a prune. What did you do?"

"Uh, let's talk about that later. I don't even know if I can do it again. Right now, that part of my brain ... feels like it is exhausted, and I have a headache from hell."

"Well, stop and let Little One fix it."

But the Prime was shaking his head. "She's ... tired – really tired. If the headache persists, she can fix it later. It was mostly her keeping the SUV on the road – well, at least it was her boosting me so I could do it. I could never have done it without her."

There was a Security vehicle in front of them, then three more following as the attack helicopters took up their positions. An unseen something closed the door of the troop helicopter, then the big machine lifted to follow high up.

Joyce hugged Caitlin closer. "I was asleep and didn't know what was going on until Laura came and awakened me. Security wouldn't let me drive down, but insisted they take me in one of their vehicles."

After a few seconds of silence, Caitlin quietly asked Joyce, "How do you do what you do? (Joyce is the deputy.) I was scared to death. I couldn't even think, but then I remembered what you taught us and made us practice over and over. I just concentrated on doing that the way you showed us. I really thought McMasters was going to shoot me when Quinton refused to put his gun down."

"He couldn't put his gun down, Baby," Joyce told her. "Statistics show that it's almost certain death for the officer to put down his gun under situations like that. Death of the officer, and probably the death of the hostage, too. The only thing that consistently works in a situation like that is what you did. We're just lucky you kept your head and worked with Quinton to ... alleviate the situation."

"I'm sleepy," Caitlin said. "I'm so exhausted. I can hardly keep my eyes open."

Joyce snuggled her close. "That's just the letdown from the stress and all that adrenalin surging through your body. Just lean your head on my shoulder and sleep. When we get home, we'll get those bloody clothes off and I'll run you a bath, then you can nap the rest of the day if you want."

The gentle swaying of the SUV rocked the nurse to sleep even before they turned off of Highway 40.



-------

Chapter 189


As the Matthews made their way back up the mountain, Diana surreptitiously watched her husband. She hadn't seen him appearing to be this fatigued since college when he was working long hours and going to school. He had been fine a little earlier as he watched everyone enjoying the new classrooms, but after the trip down...

"Stop, Baby," she said. "I want to drive."

"Di, I'm..."

" ... So tired you can barely keep your eyes open. It would be a shame for you to wreck us after the great job you did coming down the mountain. Now pull over, please."

Amazing her, he did as she asked.

As they got out to change drivers, Security began to exit their vehicles. "Nothing's wrong," Diana told them. "Jeff's just tired. I'm going to drive."

Back inside the Escalade, Diana pulled the vehicle back onto the road. "You okay, Daddy?" Arlene asked, her voice tinged with worry.

"Yeah, Baby. Just a bit tired."

Diana snapped a quick look at him. "What you did to keep this on the road caused this, didn't it?"

"Don't make too much out of that. I swear I don't even know what I did, but there's a ... place in my brain that's ... exhausted. And don't bother to ask me how I know a particular place is exhausted; I just know. And I have a headache so bad it's giving me double vision."

"Little One..."

" ... Is as exhausted as I am. I'll take some aspirin when we get back home. Right now, I just need sleep."

"But..." Arlene started, then quickly hushed as she saw her mother shaking her head.

Diana drove as smoothly as she could, slowing for the curves and easing around them, skirting potholes and any bumps she could. Jeff hadn't let his seat back to a more comfortable position, but seemed to be deeply asleep in seconds, anyway.

Joyce held Caitlin as she snuggled her head on her sister-wife's shoulder. Caitlin was mostly asleep, exhausted from the mental strain of thinking she was going to die and never see her family again. Occasionally, a tear would trickle down her cheek to be kissed away by Joyce.

Later, Diana turned the SUV into the driveway and stopped while the duty guard scanned their vehicle in case something had been attached to it while they were out. A few seconds later, he waved them on, then braced and saluted his Colonel as they drove past.

When they pulled into the inside garage, the Prime stirred, then got out as the others did. "No," Caitlin mumbled. "You're tired too. I can..."

"Hush. We're going to take a nap – the three of us," Jeff said as he picked her up. "You, me and Little One. She's just as tired as we are, and mostly for the same reason I am, I suppose. Crap, my head hurts," he tried to snarl, but it came out sounding much weaker than he intended.

In their suite, Jeff took Caitlin on to the bathroom where Diana helped the nurse to undress while Joyce put a sweet-smelling bubble bath in the warm tub of water she was running for her sister-wife. Kayla was quickly gone to soak the blood-splattered uniform before starting the washing machine.

"I'm fine," Caitlin kept saying. "I'm just exhausted from all the excitement."

"Just relax for a few minutes, then we'll put you to bed for a nice nap with your husband."

Nat, Nicki and Whitney were waiting in the bedroom, and as soon as Jeff sat on the side of the bed, they helped the protesting Prime out of his clothes. "Hey, I'm perfectly capable of undressing myself. I just need a nap to recover a little energy." The girls paid him no mind, as they took turns kissing him while stripping him to his shorts.

A few minutes after Jeff was under the sheet, a nude Caitlin came in and slipped into bed. Diana pulled the sheet to their chins as Caitlin turned toward Jeff and snuggled against him, throwing an arm and a leg over him. "I was so scared I would never see any of you again," she quietly said.

Diana smiled while stroking Caitlin's cheek. "It's all over, Baby. Just relax and nap with Jeff. You'll feel better when you wake."

Joyce leaned over and kissed Jeff, then Caitlin. "I'm going to eat lunch, then come join you. I do have to work tonight," she teased.

Diana turned the lights down and the wives started out when Spike whined from his kennel.

"Oh, crap," Arlene said. "I forgot all about him." She quickly went to the kennel and opened the door. Instead of Spike coming to her, he ran for the bed and tried to jump up on it, but he couldn't quite make it.

"Spike, no," Arlene hissed out.

"Put him up there with them," Diana whispered.

"We took him outside a few minutes before you got back," Nat quickly added.

Arlene frowned. "But..."

Diana stepped over and put the puppy on the bed. He immediately burrowed under the sheet, snuggling to an already sleeping Jeff.

"What if he wets..."

"He won't," the Queen returned. "Now let's get out of here and let them rest."

As soon as the women were in the sitting room of the suite and the door was closed to the bedroom, there was a barrage of questions from the wives who had not gone with Jeff. "Sit," the Queen said, "and I'll tell you everything I know. The rest will have to wait until Caitlin awakens."

"But what's wrong with them?" several of the wives said in unison.

Diana let out a sigh. "I think Caitlin is just mentally exhausted from the stress she was under while that idiot held a gun to her head. Coming face to face with death affects us in different ways. She's a nurse. She saves lives. She's not supposed to have people trying to kill her."

As the questions continued, Diana raised her hand a little. "Just listen and I'll tell you everything I know," she repeated. "The rest will have to wait for our mates to tell us."

After Diana, Kayla, and Arlene told everyone about the ride and the things that happened at the hospital as far as they knew, the Queen stood. "It's time for lunch. We all need something in our stomachs. So let's go fix that."

"I'll stay with them," Arlene injected.

But Diana was shaking her head. "No need. Caitlin is just mentally exhausted from the stress, and Jeff is tired from whatever he did to keep us on the road. I don't think that either of them is sick, so your staying isn't necessary."

Arlene frowned. "You sure?"

"Yes, Daughter. If I thought either of them needed us, I would be in there with them right now. Let's just let them rest."

As the women stepped into the hall, they were met with the rest of the people at the Retreat. Most were sitting on the carpet and leaning back against the walls, but Dave was pacing. Diana had to tell her story all over again.

"You're sure he's okay?" Art asked when Diana had finished.

"He said he was, and I suspect that Caitlin is getting just what she needs the most: time with her husband."

"Shit," Dave said. "I'm glad Quinton killed that bastard. Caitlin never hurt anyone. All she has ever done is to help people. She shouldn't have had to go through something like that. Damn that sick bastard. No telling how many times she'll dream of what's just happened."

"Just like me," Hope quietly said.

Dave hissed in a breath. "Oh, crap, Sweetheart. I didn't think before I ran my mouth."

"Not your fault," she responded, "and I'm much better than I was."

Diana stood shaking her head. "Okay, enough worry for now. We all need to eat, so let's go get some food on the table."

 PAULETTE'S SCHOOL

Just before the noon bell rang, Adriana parked in the school's lot and went inside the building. After signing Paulette out for the afternoon, the two walked down the hall and out the side entrance nearest the parking lot.

"Bet those two guys we met in the hall will have a hard on for the next hour," the teenager said, grinning at her mother.

"Paulette, language," Adriana scolded, but smiled in spite of herself. Then, "Oh, come on. I'm just an old woman to those seventeen-year-old boys."

"Maybe so," Paulette laughed, looking back over her shoulder to see the two now peeking out the glass door at them, "but it sure looks like they reversed direction after we passed them."

Adriana glanced back to confirm what her daughter had told her, then laughed self-consciously. "Who says they're looking at me? You look pretty darned good yourself."

"Moommmm," Paulette said as Adriana clicked the remote to unlock the pickup. After the two had gotten in, Paulette continued, "That top you're wearing is way tighter than mine, and you're braless, aren't you?"

"Crap," the mother sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice. I even put Band-Aids over my nipples to keep them from showing. And before you say anything else, somehow my boobs are bigger today, and all my bras are too tight."

"Bigger? Do you suppose it's what Little One did to us?"

As Adriana backed out of the parking place, she felt a trickle start down the front of her left breast, but she waited until they were on the road to comment. "My breasts are so sensitive I can barely stand to wear clothes, but I think there's a reason they're a little bigger today. Suddenly, I'm lactating."

"Oh, wow. Is it because you're pregnant?" Paulette wanted to know.

Adriana was shaking her head. "I don't think I'm fertile yet. At least I haven't felt the pinch I usually feel when I start to ovulate. Besides, I shouldn't have milk in my breasts until the baby is ready to be born. You know that..."

Paulette waited for her mother to continue, but she had stopped. "Uh, Mom, I get the feeling you started to say something else..."

Adriana didn't answer right away, but continued on toward their home while tapping a fingernail against the steering wheel as she thought. Then, apparently making up her mind, said, "Your dad and I went over to Lillian's this morning, and he brought her big tractor back to our shop to rebuild the motor. She was almost frantic that he should not do it since she didn't have the money to spare for parts, but Van took the tractor, anyway. She doesn't know that he has already bought a rebuild kit with all the parts he will need to do a professional job on the engine. Just before I left to pick you up, he told me that he was going to have to rebuild the hydraulics as well.

"Lillian and I sat and talked for a while after Van had gone, but the conversation was a lot different than yesterday. I finally got her to open up to me about her finances. She's in worse shape than we thought. She has had to mortgage the farm and is way behind on her payments. The bank will foreclose shortly unless something happens, but she's still reluctant to sell to one of the big outfits. She's already sold off half her herd during the last year. Hiring workers has eaten up her profits and what little she and Ryan had in their savings account when he was called up to serve his country. If she continues to sell her cattle, it will only stave off things for a short while. With the herd gone, she'll have much less income next year and will never be able to recover.

"Van said that he had mentioned her situation to Jeff – at least as we knew it then – and Jeff had said he would buy the farm under certain conditions, but Van didn't question him about the conditions. But ... I have an idea, and I want to talk to you about it before I discuss it with Van.

"And..." Adriana continued with a non sequitur, "from what Diana told me while we were there visiting, I'm pretty sure I know why I'm suddenly lactating."

"Oh, shit," Paulette said.

"Language," Adriana admonished again.

"Sorry, Mom. Uh, is it the Queen thing they talked about?"

There was a long pause, then, "Van is an Alpha – now, an enhanced Alpha. He's ... well, your dad is..."

"Mom,  I'm not a baby anymore."

Adriana cleared her throat before steeling her emotions and going on, "To be blunt, your father has always been capable of totally satisfying me sexually, and ... whether you think of your parents that way or not, he's always been an extremely sexual person."

"In other words, Daddy can screw your brains out," Paulette giggled.

"Paulette," Adriana chided.

"Oh, come on, Mom. I was raised on a farm, remember? Besides, whether you realize it or not, you get pretty vocal at times."

Adriana took a breath, her face turning red with embarrassment, then blurted out, "I can't keep up with him now. Not since he was enhanced. I could barely walk this morning, and his ... uh, member becomes ... erect every time he's close to me. I want him to marry Lillian and combine our farms. We need more land, and she can't handle the land she's got. And,  she needs a man. Van's a good man – no, a wonderful man that I don't even deserve. Lillian and I have always been the best of friends. Ryan is dead. No matter how nice a guy he was, he isn't coming back. She's mourned long enough – too long. It's time for her to go on with her life..."

"And you're asking my permission for Dad to marry her like Jeff and Dave have married their women? And ... you haven't answered my question about your lactating."

Adriana paused for a moment, then answered, "Yes to both your questions. Yes, I think I'm lactating because I've decided that my husband should have another wife. Diana said it would happen. And yes, I guess I'm asking for your permission."

Adriana had hoped her daughter would immediately give her enthusiastic permission, because Adriana knew that Paulette liked Lillian, but Paulette sat quietly for a moment. "Dad can marry her without my permission."

"I'm sure he won't, Baby. It might be a lot harder for me to convince him than you imagine. And without your consent as well, I can just about guarantee he'll never go for it."

"So where will we live? Is she going to move in with us? Our house is plenty big enough, but hers is newer."

"My thinking hasn't gone that far yet. First, I have to convince you, then there's Van. I know he has feelings for her, but getting her into our bed might not be the easiest thing in the world. Your father is... loyal to me. I'm absolutely certain he's never cheated on me, and I surely haven't on him. I can't even imagine doing so. Somehow, I'll have to convince him that marrying her is the thing to do. But before that, I have to convince you, and somewhere in there I have to convince Lillian that it's the thing to do. Oh, it goes around and around. But I can see the way she looks at him. She will fall for him in a minute if she thinks it's okay to do so."

Paulette sat quietly for a moment, wondering if she dared. Finally, "I like her a lot, Mom, but like that old guy in the movie we watched the other night, we need to dicker a little before I give my permission."

Adriana pulled into their driveway, stopping near the house. After shutting the motor off, she turned in her seat and leaned back against the door to look at her daughter. Paulette had worried that her mother would be mad, but surprising the teenager, she said, "I know what you're going to say. I'll give you points for a good try, and there would have been a time that I would have turned you over my knee for trying to get your way like that, but instead of being pissed, I'll just say that you're still too young. It might be different if you didn't have to go live with them, but you have school. They would be gone during the day, and I don't want you left alone in that house from the time you get out of school – a new school – until they get home from work. You won't be fifteen until day after tomorrow. If you were out here, it might be different, but they live in the outskirts of Denver. There are too many bad people in this world for you to be alone that much in a city."

"So, you think I'm old enough to get married, just not to be alone in a strange area?"

"I don't want to lose my daughter yet, either," Adriana said. "If you won't give your permission, I'll try to work something else out so we can help Lillian. I respect you more than you realize, Daughter, and I will never try to cram this down your throat. I won't bring her into our household without all three of us enthusiastically agreeing to her becoming part of our family. It would never work, otherwise."

There were suddenly tears in Paulette's eyes. "Mom, I want to marry Jeremy more than anything on earth, but I could never do that to you. I guess I had to try. I just didn't think it through. I was being a bitch. I ... hoped I could pressure you into agreeing to my marrying Jeremy now. I guess I'm kinda scared about moving away, though, and I would be lonesome while they're at work, especially in the summer when I'm out of school."

Adriana reached over and took her daughter's hand. "So what should I do?"

"Up to you, Mom."

Adriana took a breath. "I guess we'll talk to your Daddy. Once that obstacle is over, we'll..."

"You have my vote ... Sic him on Lillian," Paulette finished for her.

"Your choice of words..." Adriana giggled, soon joined by her daughter.

Paulette, thinking their conversation was over, started to get out of the vehicle, but Adriana leaned over and put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "We still have some things to discuss. A few weeks ago, we wouldn't have included you at this stage, but ... you want to be an adult, and you have been acting like one. Well, with the possible exception of trying to coerce me a moment ago..."

"Mom, I'm sorry," Paulette started, but Adriana was shaking her head.

"I would have been amazed if you hadn't given it a try, but back to the subject at hand. While I was talking to Lillian, she got a phone call. While she was occupied, I noticed a letter on the table. It had the bank's name on it, and well ... I snooped. She has ten days to bring her payments up to date or the bank is going to start foreclosure proceedings against her. I wrote down the account numbers and gave them to Van when I got home. He went to take care of things and hadn't returned when I left to pick you up. I could tell by what I heard of the phone conversation that Lillian was talking to someone about buying more of her herd."

Paulette sat upright. "Oh, my gosh. We can't let her lose her farm, but ... do we have the money to take care of things? Will Daddy be able to do it?"

"We're doing fine, Baby. We can bring things current and make her payments, but consolidating the farms would make things easier for us, and in the end, for her too. Not to say anything about her winding up with Van as a husband."

"I can't believe you would do that, Mom. You've changed..."

" ... A lot," Adriana finished for her. "I've never seen people any happier than the Matthews and the others at the Retreat. And ... I know and trust my husband. He will always love me. Besides, I love my friend, and she needs all of us. She has been so sad since Ryan was killed. It's time she had something good happen in her life."

Adriana expected Paulette to continue on the subject, but instead her daughter sat looking into the distance. "What's wrong, Baby? Do you think this won't work?"

"I ... just have an idea, Momma. Something I think none of us has thought of yet. Oh, and I think everything will work out just great if we can get Daddy to marry Lillian, but this is a whole other thing. I'm almost scared to even bring the subject up, and I want Daddy to be here when we discuss it."

Turning to fully face her mother, she continued, "Let's change the subject for a few minutes. Uh, have you said anything to Diana to see if she and Jeff will marry Dad and Lillian?"

Adriana hesitated then shrugged. "No, but Diana talked about Alpha's having more than one wife. She said that we were family now. Once we get Van on board and he talks Lillian into it, I'll call Diana."

"Dad's gonna shit," Paulette said as she got out, then quickly added, "Yeah, yeah, I know. Language."

Laughing, mother and daughter went into the house to fix lunch. But Adriana could see that her daughter was still deep in thought.

THE RETREAT

Diana and the others prepared a quick meal. After everyone had eaten, except Jeff and Caitlin, Arlene realized that it was time for Spike to go outside. Quietly walking into the bedroom, being careful to not wake the three sleepers, she reached under the sheet and extracted the pup. After snuggling him to her face for a moment, she took him into the hallway, dressed him in his sweater and put on her coat. Outside, she decided he must have had to go badly, because he raised his leg and peed as soon as she put him on the ground.

She praised him while holding back her laughter. He had started trying to raise a back leg when he peed, but he wasn't very good at maintaining his balance just yet. He's doing his best to act like a big dog,  she thought as he almost fell over twice when he raised his leg too high.

Back inside a little later, she met Hope coming out of her suite with Sugar in her arms. "You taking Sugar out?" she asked the younger girl.

But Hope was shaking her head. "Unh uh. I took her out a few minutes ago. I was just coming to find you so the puppies could play together."

The two girls, deciding to go to the living room, put their dogs down. As they walked by Selina's suite, the puppies bounding along in front of them, Selina came out her door with Billy on her shoulder. He had not noticed the puppies yet, and chose that moment to teleport to the floor, apparently deciding to walk on his own.

The tiny feline's sudden appearance ten feet in front of the puppies with his back to them was more temptation than the puppies could stand. Having been born in a household with several cats, they immediately saw him as a buddy to play with. Barking at the top of their lungs, they charged the kitten, expecting him to turn and play with them.

But ... there was a problem. Billy had never seen a dog before. Cat instincts took over and he turned his side toward them, his body arched, practically standing on his tiptoes, hissing. The dogs had seen this before as they played with other kittens, but it was mock combat with them, and the kitten would jump into the fray and tussle with them. So the puppies never slowed down, just barreled on, expecting Billy to react to them.

He didn't. Well, not until it was too late, anyway. Spike was in the lead and ran over Billy with Sugar right behind him. Then there was a ball of puppies and kitten rolling around and over each other. To the puppies, it was just play and great fun, but Billy, forgetting all about teleporting, had just gotten smeared by the two dogs.

He came out of the pile, dancing on his toes, spitting out his anger and shock. "Phhsst. Phhsst. Phhsst." The puppies, much to Billy's disgruntlement, immediately lunged into the fray again. There was more hissing from the tangle, a yelp or two, and Billy came out of the melee, his hair standing on end as he danced away sideways, hissing and spitting almost continuously.

Sugar was showing a drop of blood on the end of her nose, and Spike was slinging his head and favoring an ear, but they had obviously loved the tussle. Billy, incensed, finally got his act together and teleported to Selina's shoulder. He was basically untouched, except for the indignity of being run over by two ... beings he instinctively knew he was far too good to ever associate with.

Sugar and Spike, barking happily, sat on the floor, looking up at Billy while he hissed down at them. Selina had been hesitant to introduce her pet to the dogs. She was shocked by the suddenness of the melee and the startling quickness of all three of the pets. The little genius, always quick of words, hadn't been able to say anything but "Billy," and certainly hadn't been fast enough to reach down and remove her kitten from the wrestling/scratching match.

Billy, still upset, had clamped down on her shoulder with his little needle claws while the dogs wanted to continue their play. To the young wives, it was obviously play – rough though it was – but to Billy, it had seemed like mortal combat, and he voiced his displeasure with a low, but continuous growl.

Arlene and Hope had laughed at the dogs, and indeed, were still giggling. Finally, Selina began to see the humor and laughed a bit, too.

Hope sat on the carpet and ruffled Sugar's hair, then petted her.

Arlene sat beside the other girl and put Spike in her lap. Looking up at Selina, "They need to get to know each other. Mrs. Kimbrel had cats in the house, and she said one of them had a litter of kittens, so I guess Spike and Sugar are used to playing with them. Why don't you sit down with us and let them get a little more used to each other?"

Selina slowly sat, her hand on Billy as he clung to her shoulder while keeping a wary eye on the two dogs. "I am uncertain about this interspecies interaction. They might well harm each other..."

Sugar had licked the drop of blood off her nose, and Spike seemed to have forgotten about the ear that Billy clawed. Arlene let out a chuckle. "If they didn't hurt each other just then, I doubt if they ever will. Besides, it looks like the only one who was serious was Billy."

Since Selina was now sitting, Billy was suddenly very close to the dogs, so he teleported a few feet away. Spike and Sugar immediately charged him, but just before they got to him, he teleported back to Selina's shoulder. The puppies came to a sliding, stumbling halt, looking around and back at each other. If they had been able to speak, they would have asked each other where the cat went.

After sniffing around, they turned back, suddenly spying Billy on Selina's shoulder again. Running over, they clambered into Selina's lap in order to reach Billy on her shoulder. The kitten slapped Spike on the nose, producing a yelp and a suddenly angry puppy that snapped back at Billy. The kitten was prepared this time and teleported to Arlene's shoulder to get away from a snarling puppy who had just decided the combat was real.

Arlene snatched Spike off Selina's lap, telling the puppy, "No,  Spike." But now Spike had a tiny drop of blood on his nose, just like Sugar, and he was glaring at Billy, who was now sitting down the hall a little way, seemingly just casually cleaning his claws. It seemed he meant to show that he had won that little dustup.

Hope and Arlene grabbed their puppies before they could dash off after Billy again. "Looks like they're not going to be instant friends," Arlene commented dryly.

Billy teleported back to Selina's shoulder where he stared at the dogs and swished his tail as if to say, "I'm ready when you are."



-------

Chapter 190


VAN AND ADRIANA'S FARM

As soon as Adriana and Paulette were inside the house, Adriana turned to her daughter. "This idea of yours, does it have anything to do with your marrying Jeremy anytime soon?"

"Yeah, Mom, but a lot of things have to work out, and ... like I said, I want to have both you and dad together when we discuss it – maybe even Jeremy and his ... wives, as well."

Adriana looked at her daughter for a second, but refrained from asking anything else about the idea. "Okay, I'm going out to the shop to talk to your father."

"But Mom, don't you think we should both talk to him?"

Adriana, almost to the back door, turned for a moment. "We'll both talk to him a little later, but first I need to discuss something with him about Lillian. Like I said, I know he has feelings for her, and her love for him is obvious, but he needs to know I'm okay with his loving her. After that's settled, we'll talk about his marrying her, then we can all talk about your idea."

"Mom, it's my idea. I want to present it in my own way."

"Okay. Whenever you're ready, we'll hear your idea about Jeremy and his women, but Van and I need to be alone when I broach the subject of Lillian. Why don't you fix us some soup and sandwiches while I go have a chat with him? We'll be back in fifteen or twenty minutes."

"So, you're going to make love to him?"

Adriana had put her coat back on and opened the back door, but paused to look back over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eye. "No, Miss Smartypants, at least not in the way you think. But your dad is much more susceptible to my 'suggestions' after I've given him a blowjob. So there just might be one of those in his immediate future."

Although Paulette tried to stave it off, a blush tinged her face. "Still like being treated as an adult?" Adriana laughed just before closing the door behind herself.

"Yeah, I do," Paulette said to an empty room, "but I blush more."

When Adriana walked into the farm shop that adjoined the barn, Van was standing at the parts sink washing his greasy hands. The head from the tractor motor, its valves and accompanying valve springs, were cleaned and lined up on the counter beside the sink. "How's it coming?" Adriana asked as she put her arms around her husband from behind.

Van slathered hand cleaner to his elbows, rubbed it in, then held his arms under the stream of water to rinse off as he answered, "I've got the head off and cleaned everything up. I'm going to grind the valves and valve seats, then reassemble the head before I start on the block." When his hands and arms were clean, he shut off the water, pulled several paper shop towels from the dispenser, turning and smiling at his wife while he dried off.

As he started to toss the used towels into the trash, Adriana pulled his head down and kissed him hard – in more ways than one. The towels fell short of the container.

"Baby, wouldn't it be simpler to just tell me ... whaattt you want?" Van started as she reached down, unzipped him, and fished out his hardening cock. Dropping into a squat, she licked the head a few times, bringing him to full hardness, then began an expert blowjob.

"Oh, shit, that feels good," he whispered as he leaned back against the sink looking down at his pretty wife.

Adriana pulled her mouth off for a moment. "Just let it go, Lover. I'll tell you what I want after you've come. I'm pretty sure you'll like it."

"Which? The blowjob or whatever ... you're ... uh, going to ... ask?" Van tried to joke, but he was having problems talking just now.

"Mmmm hmmm," Adriana said with his dick in her mouth, but he wasn't sure what she was agreeing with. Crap, she can have whatever she wants,  he thought. I just hope it isn't too expensive.

He watched his wife suck him, her cheeks hollowing as she moved her mouth up and down his cock. He knew better than to hold back and make her work for it. She couldn't go to her knees on the dirty shop floor, and squatting like she was doing would soon become uncomfortable. He released his control, warned her, then after a moment, let his orgasm overcome him. Sex seems to get better and better since Little One enhanced us. His body quivered and his cock pulsed over and over as his hands clutched the rim of the sink behind him.

Adriana swallowed each pulse of semen, then held his cock in her mouth without sucking as he came down, knowing that he would be too sensitive to stand anything more intense for a few minutes. When he began to lose stiffness, she released him, put his manhood up and zipped his pants.

Standing, she kissed her mate, marveling that he would always kiss her afterward, even if there were still a taste of his sperm in her mouth. Pulling her lips back from his, she looked up and smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too, Baby." Then with a smile, "Now that I'm all mellowed out, what color is the dress you want to buy that's too expensive to even think about?"

Adriana grabbed him by a hand, dragging him toward the side of the shop where there were two straight chairs. "Sit, Husband."

"Yes, Dear," he laughed. "This must be really expensive."

Plopping onto his lap as soon as he sat, she pulled her top above her breasts.

"What's with the Band-Aids?" he asked with a chuckle.

"My bras didn't fit this morning, so I used the Band-Aids to try to cover my nipples to keep them from tenting my top. Oh, I could stuff my boobs in a bra, but my nipples are super sensitive, and..." she said as she pulled the sodden Band-Aids off, "it seems I've suddenly sprung a leak. Want a sip?" she giggled as she pulled his face down to her left breast and squeezed the nipple. Multiple thin streams of milk spurted out just before he cupped his lips around the pap and sucked.

"Oh, shit," she hissed out, totally unprepared for the orgasm that crashed down on her the instant he started to suck.

Adriana had always been easy to orgasm, and was certainly multi-orgasmic, but while there had been a few times when she had come upon the first stroke of their lovemaking, this was unusual even for her. When the orgasm faded, he switched to her other breast, but spent some time kissing around the nipple before finally licking it and at last beginning to suck her milk. The orgasm from this breast was only a little slower, but if anything, it was more intense than with the other breast.

Eventually, she slumped against him as he absently stroked her hair. "Is all this because of Little One?"

"Mmmmm. Maybe, at least in a way. But if Diana is correct, it might be something else as well."

He caressed her breast, cupping it and rubbing a thumb gently over the nipple. "Whatever it is, I like it. There's something special about drinking your milk. I can think of few things that are more intimate. I've always been hesitant to talk to other men about nursing, though. Some of them would probably laugh at me, but ... well you know how much I used to nurse you when you had milk for our kids."

Adriana gently kissed his lips. "It's special for me too, and what we need to talk about now might be just as special in another way."

Van raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Adriana pulled her top back into place, cutting off his view of her perfect breasts capped with their long, thick nipples. Seeing the look on her husband's face, "It's cool in here, and besides, we need to talk about something that's really important. Later, we can pick up where we left off. Okay?"

With a grin, he tipped her face up a little and again touched his lips to hers for an instant. "Here it comes," he teased. "How expensive is it?"

"Oh, I don't know," she teased back, "probably over time she will be very expensive."

Frowning, he looked at her. "She?"

"Uh hmmm. She."

"What're you talking about, Babe? Do we need to spend some money on Paulette or something?"

"No, Darling. The 'she' is Lillian."

"But..."

To Van, Adriana looked as if she were bursting with excitement, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure what she was talking about. Surely, she wasn't talking about Lillian's debt. "Lillian? Uh, we spent some money on her, if that's what you mean, but we discussed it before I went to the bank."

Adriana looked serious for a moment. "I assume everything went all right, since you didn't leave me a note in the kitchen, or anything?"

"Yeah. It went okay. Oh, the loan officer started to make a comment, but I let my anger show a little and asked him if he were trying to delay things until the bank could foreclose on her, then resell her farm for a big profit. Once I had him on the defensive, he didn't try anything else. I paid the penalties, brought the payments up to date, and paid next month's payment as well. We need to tell Lillian before she sells off the rest of her cattle, though."

"Uhh hmmm," Adriana sighed as she nuzzled his neck. "We can tell her when you go over to propose."

"Propose? Propose what?"

"That she become your wife, of course," Adriana tried to say without any emotion in her voice at all.

Van took his wife by her shoulders, holding her back from him a little so he could look her in the eyes. "My wife? I think I've missed something here..."

Adriana pulled her top up again and milked a nipple to spray milk on his shirt. Van looked at the milk, then back at her, his mind stumbling over what she had just said.

Adriana smiled at him. "I've decided that you need another wife. I know you have feelings for Lillian, and if you let your emotions go, those feelings can be love. You have my permission – my full permission – to love her and marry her just like Jeff has done his wives." She, almost absently, milked another stream of milk onto his shirt. "My breasts prove I'm serious. I'm going to be your Queen, just like Diana is Jeff's."

"I think I need to sit down," Van teased, still not quite sure if she were serious.

"You are sitting down, Turkey. And stop trying to kid around. I'm serious about this. You marry her – uh, we marry her; she moves in with us, and we combine the farms. We can expand everything, just like you said we should, and she won't have to sell."

Adriana pulled her top back over her breasts. "Diana told me there would be changes in my body under certain conditions, and those changes would be evident by my beginning to lactate when I made marriage decisions concerning my Alpha. I thought about this all last night – even when we were making love." After a hesitation, she went on, "I can't keep up with you any more, My Husband..."

"Whoa there, Gal. We've been having a lot of fun in the last two days, but I didn't realize that I was abusing you. No way did I intend to do that. You've always been plenty of woman for me. I've never even thought about straying..."

"You won't be straying, Darling. You'll be making love to another wife. A wife that I already care a lot about. She's my best friend. I've laid awake at night worrying about her, and I know you have worried, too. I know she's attractive to you; she has to be. She's beautiful – well, she will be again after her worries go away when she finds out she isn't going to lose her farm. And when you propose – and she gets over the shock – she'll be out of her mind with happiness."

Van stared at her, the two of them silent and just looking at each other. "You're serious about this, aren't you?"

Adriana chuckled. "You know I am."

"I ... I can't believe this. Here I am working on one of her tractors, covered in grease – which you're getting on your jeans, by the way – and you hit me with this. I mean..."

Adriana wiggled her butt on his lap. "Your dick seems to like the idea," she teased.

Van hadn't realized he was erect, but now his face gradually deepened in color. "I have a sexy woman sitting in my lap..." he began.

"Bull. That thing poked me in the ass as soon as you realized I was serious about Lillian. Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't just imagine the both of us in bed with you..."

"Uh..."

" ... on our hands and knees, lined up on the side of the bed waiting on you? How far off am I?"

"Baby, I..."

Adriana hugged him, pressing her milk-laden breasts hard against his chest. "I want it as much as you do. I love her, and I know she loves us. This will just add a sexual dimension to our feelings for each other. Now you need to come in for lunch and get cleaned up."

As they stood and started for the door, Van stopped. "What about Paulette? What does she think about this? I assume she knows. I can't do this unless..."

"She thinks Lillian is great, and we both know how much Lillian loves her. Paulette won't be a problem – at least not about this."

"About this?" That implies that Paulette will be a problem about something else,  Van thought. Before he could follow that thought to a conclusion, Adriana got up and tossed him his coat, then pulled hers back on. Linking arms, she urged him toward the house as she continued teasing, her banter designed to keep him from dwelling too much on the details of what was to come.

Van showered and changed, and Adriana changed her jeans.

Back in the kitchen, the three ate a quick lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches as they discussed what the new Queen had envisioned.

Mother and daughter cleared the table. "You need to brush your teeth, Dad," Paulette said with a giggle.

"That's a good idea, Darling," Adriana added as she smiled at her husband. "We wouldn't want your new fiancée to think you had bad breath."

"I'm not so sure..." Van started, before being cut off by his wife.

"We just discussed this – all three of us. Paulette and I are positive Lillian is in love with you. If you let yourself go, you have to admit that you love her too. We've all been very close for a long time, and since Ryan was killed, she's depended on you – on us. It's time we went the next step. She needs you to be her mate, and since Little One has enhanced you, there is no way one woman is enough for you. You know our marriage isn't legal in the eyes of the law – at least if it came out that we're siblings – so another marriage of agreement between you, me and Lillian, certainly isn't going to make things worse under any circumstances I can think of. On the contrary, she'll have a secure home, you'll have another wife, and I'll have a sister-wife to help with our offspring. She and Ryan never had kids, and they never went to be checked to see what was wrong. We know you're fertile, and if the problem was Lillian, Little One will fix that..."

"You have this all thought out, don't you?" Van quietly said as he stood looking at the two.

Adriana stared back at him, her eyes full. "I've thought of little else since Diana told me about being a Queen. I want this, Van. I want it as much as you do. My best friend, over there," she said, pointing vaguely toward Lillian's house, "is hurting – alone – and worrying herself into an early grave. There are bags under her eyes and lines in her face that weren't there a few months ago. Even if I didn't love her, I would want you to marry her."

Tears were starting to slide down Adriana's face as Van stepped over and took her in his arms. Paulette tore off a paper towel and handed it to her mother. "How can you stand there and hesitate?" Adriana demanded of her husband as she buried her face against his chest.

"Because I love you, Dummy," he quietly answered. "If this backfires..."

"It won't," she insisted, refraining at the last second from pounding her hand against his chest in frustration.

"Brush your teeth, Daddy. I'll pull Skunk around to the back door, and we'll be waiting for you."

Skunk was a four-seater ATV with a four foot bed in back. They used the machine to get around on the farm and to haul things. Shortly after Van had bought the ATV, a skunk had apparently taken offense to the vehicle and sprayed a tire. It had taken several washings with the power washer before they could use the machine again. From then on they just called it Skunk.

The quarter mile long road between the two farms had started out as little more than an area used to turn the tractor between two fields, but since the two families were constantly visiting each other, Van had smoothed the lane out with the tractor. Since both families had an ATV that they used much of the time, and four-wheel drive pickups, Van had never graveled or done much to make the road passable for a car. With the melting snow now adding to the mud, the ATV was in its element.

Paulette sat behind the wheel of the idling Skunk as her mom and dad slid into the second seat. "Do not splatter mud on us," Van admonished, knowing his daughter was quite capable of doing that just to hear him gripe.

Paulette giggled as she gunned the motor to tease her father, but quickly let off on the gas before the ATV's speed reached the point that the tires slung mud on them. "We wouldn't want you to have mud on your face as you propose," she finished with a twinkle in her eye.

"She might just laugh me out of the house," Van tried to grumble.

"Or she might send Paulette home and drag you into the bedroom," Adriana added. She wondered to herself if her comment might not be that far off.

A couple of minutes later as they neared Lillian's back door, "I'm really nervous about this," the Alpha commented barely loud enough for them to hear.

"Oh, my big man has butterflies," Adriana teased, managing to hold back a laugh.

"No, not butterflies. Much worse than that. I'm scared stiff," Van quietly said as Paulette stopped and shut the machine down.

Adriana grinned at her husband. "And who says being stiff is so bad?"

"Adriana," Van tried to admonish as Paulette giggled.

"She wants to be treated as an adult. If she's going to marry Jeremy, it's time we quit worrying about delicate ears. Besides, this way, she won't have to sneak out to the barn to watch the bull when he's breeding a cow."

"Motherrr," Paulette squealed, as she emphasized the last part of the word.

Laughing, they walked up the back steps. Van squeezed his wife's hand. "You tell her about us catching her payments up."

Adriana turned to look at her husband just as Lillian opened the back door. "Chicken?" Adriana said with a laugh.

"Definitely," Van returned.

Lillian stood holding the door open, her long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail. The thirty-five year old woman, five-five, slim of build with high, medium-sized breasts that seemed to fit her taut body perfectly, was very pretty if her worry would let her be. Having heard part of what the husband and wife had just said, a frown creased the widow's pretty face. "Chicken? Catching up? Catching what up?"

Adriana reached to hug her friend, then Paulette did the same, the teenager mostly managing to stifle a giggle. As mother and daughter went on into the house, "Well?" Lillian questioned as she looked at Van standing there. "Since when do I not get a hug from you? Of course, I shouldn't give you one after you ran off with my tractor this morning."

Van took her in his arms, acutely aware of how she pushed her breasts against his chest and hugged him hard against her. "Thank you, Van. I think it would have made another season..."

"It wouldn't, Lillian. I know it, and you know it. Besides, I've only just got the head off. Let's wait until we see if it runs before you thank me," he tried to tease.

"Oh, yeah," she laughed. "When did something you rebuilt not run like a new one afterward, hmmm? Now come on in and let's get out of the cold. I've just put a fresh pot on."

After hanging their coats in the mudroom, they entered the kitchen where Paulette was already putting out cups for the coffee. The teenager would probably have preferred hot chocolate, but she had been drinking coffee with lots of cream and sugar since she was six years old. In recent months, she had reduced the sugar and the amount of cream she now used as she mimicked what her mother took in her coffee. No way was she ever going to drink the bitter brew black the way her father did. She wanted to be an adult, and adults – well most of them – didn't drink a child's coffee. She wouldn't either.

Adriana poured the coffee as Lillian brought out a cake she had baked. As they sat and ate, the tension was evident to Lillian. "All right, spill it. Adriana, you and Paulette look like you're dying to tell me something, and you, Van, look like you ... well, I don't know exactly, but you look ... different."

Lillian sat back to look at first one, then the other of her friends. "Speaking of different, something is different about all of you. You all look – I don't know – better, uh, healthier. Like you're ... bursting with energy. That couple of days off must have really helped. And you, Adriana, I know you read my letter. It was moved on the table and you were looking guilty when I got off the phone. I've got that taken care of. I'm going to sell more of my cattle in the morning. I'll use that to bring my payments up to date. I have ten days..."

"Don't sell your cattle," Van blurted.

"Your payments are taken care of," Adriana said a heartbeat later.

"You didn't?" Lillian said, her face beginning to flush. Neither of the others knew whether the flush was due to anger or embarrassment.

"Hush," Adriana said as she reached over and took her friend's hand. "Our farm has done very, very well the last several years. If you lose your farm, you'll move off somewhere and I won't have my best friend next to me any longer. And if you're embarrassed, then just stop. We're family ... and that might very well be a truer statement than you realize," she finished, mysteriously.

Lillian sat staring, changing her gaze from one to the other of the three, then put her head down and began to sob. "I just can't do it," she choked out. "I can't do it by myself. I make mistakes; I screw things up. I'm not strong enough to do some of the things that Ryan did on a routine basis. I'm spending too much money on hired help. No matter what I do, I seem to lose a little every week. I've got to sell. I don't have any choice. I was going to sell off enough stock to catch my payments up, then take whatever I can get for the farm. I'm not going to sell to that big outfit. No telling what they would do once they owned the place. I wouldn't do that to my friends."

Adriana got up to hold Lillian. "You don't have to sell. Shortly, things are going to be better than they've been for years. We came to talk to you – to tell you some things, and Van came to ... ask you an important question."

Paulette handed Lillian a paper towel and added her hug to her mother's. As she did so, unable to hold back, the teenager whispered into Lillian's ear, "You're going to be my mom, just you watch and see."

"Wha..." Lillian started, certain she had misunderstood Paulette.

Adriana and Paulette pulled their chairs over so they could sit close and hold Lillian's hands. When it became obvious that Van wasn't going to say anything, Adriana began. "We've spent the last couple of days with a marvelous family. I hinted, but I didn't tell you much about Jeremy, Connie and Denise. Well, I ... uh. He married both of them..."

"But that's..." Lillian began.

"Just wait," Adriana interrupted. "We can't tell you much about what went on right now, but let's just say that the Matthews married them in a ... special ceremony that doesn't conflict with any laws, so Jeremy won't be getting prosecuted for bigamy or anything like that. But the ... contract is more binding than a legal marriage could ever be. For now, you'll just have to trust me on that. But if things work out the way I hope, I'll be able to tell you everything really soon."

With a shaking hand, Lillian took a sip of her cooling coffee as everyone sat quietly.

After a moment, Lillian had just started to say something when Adriana went quickly on. "You mentioned how we look different. That's a lot truer than you could ever guess, for we are, indeed, healthier. But for now, we can't talk about that. But ... there are other things that we can talk about, and before we continue, I want you to fully realize that what is about to happen has my full and absolute, and very enthusiastic backing." Turning to her husband, she smiled and sweetly said, "You're on, Big Boy."

There was a moment of silence in the room, then Van came to his feet, took the couple of steps to Lillian as Adriana rose and scooted her chair out of the way. Taking Lillian's hand, he came down on a knee, his face as serious as Lillian had ever seen it.

-------

Jeremy, Connie and Denise had spent the morning at the Denver Zoo. They had just gotten into their pickup to leave when Jeremy looked over at his wives. "You know that I love you," he said to the both of them.

Both women smiled, but Connie answered, "And you know that we love you, too."

Denise reached to touch Jeremy's face for a second. "So what are we going to do now? Although I hate to say it, I for one am still too sore to show you how much I love you – at least if it involves my pussy."

"Me, too, Sister-Wife," Connie agreed.

Jeremy grinned at them. "And I'm not much better. I guess we overdid it last night, huh?"

"And ... this morning," both women said as one.

"So..." he laughed, "what say we go visit my folks? We can eat supper with them, and maybe spend the night if we want to."

"We didn't bring a change of clothes," Denise started.

"You could wash your panties and bras," Jeremy offered, "and I'm sure I still have some underwear left at Mom's. We could even wash our jeans and shirts, as far as that's concerned. We're on our honeymoon. We can laze around all day tomorrow if we want to, or I could help around the farm."

"We need to call your mom and see if it's okay for us to come," Connie worried.

But Jeremy was shaking his head. "They're my folks and that's my home – well one of them. We're always welcome there."

The women looked at each other, then Denise continued, "It's okay by us, provided we stop by the grocery store and pick up some meat. Remember, your mom said they were short until they slaughter a beef."

"So, we'll pick up some steaks..."

" ... And call your mom and tell her we're coming," Connie insisted.

"No problem with that," Jeremy laughed as he pressed the speed dial on his phone. When he didn't receive an answer on his folks land line, he dialed their cell.

A moment later when Adriana answered the phone, "Mom, we're coming for supper and bringing steaks. What else should we bring?"

"Good," Adriana said. "I was just about to call you. We need to tell you our new plans, and Paulette says she has a brainstorm that might solve several of our problems, if ... the three of you agree. And don't ask me about it; she hasn't shared it with us, yet. At any rate, we're tickled to have you. Oh, yeah, bring an extra steak. Lillian will be eating with us."

"Okay. We've been visiting the zoo all morning and are leaving as we speak. We'll stop by and get the steaks on the way."

As soon as Jeremy ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket, "I wonder what's going on. Mom sounded awfully serious. I hope there's nothing wrong."



-------

Chapter 191

THE RETREAT

Jeff awoke from his nap feeling much better. Caitlin had a leg and an arm thrown over him and her head was resting on his shoulder. As he wondered if he could move out from under his wife without awakening her, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

He touched his finger to his lips, then eased out of bed to hold the sheet up for her as she followed him. Joyce, sleeping deeply beside them, didn't awaken.

After the bathroom, they stepped into the shower together. "Feeling better now, My Love?" Jeff asked her.

Caitlin reached up to take his face in her hands for a moment. Then hesitantly, "I feel much better, and ... I guess I'm a little embarrassed to have been so shaken up by ... that. I've just never had a gun rammed against my head with someone screaming he was going to kill me – not that I could ever get used to it," she continued with a sick laugh, "but, I can certainly empathize with Hope now. I'm afraid it will be a very long time before I forget what happened this morning."

Jeff gently kissed her on the lips, then trailed kisses around to her ear, which he nipped.

Caitlin shivered, chill bumps breaking out on her arms. "You keep that up and we'll be waking Joyce. Now behave yourself; I'm hungry."

"Yes, Ma'am," he chuckled as he lathered his hands and began rubbing soap over her body, starting with her breasts, of course.

Pushing his hands away and laughing, "You do you, and I'll do me. Otherwise, we'll never get out of here."

"Spoilsport," he chuckled, but did as she instructed.

A little later, as Caitlin was drying Jeff's back, she hesitated before beginning, "Honey, you know Quinton saved my life – I mean, really saved my life. He stayed so calm, no matter how wild McMasters became. How do Quinton and Joyce..."

"Baby, he had to be calm to help keep McMasters from going off even worse. Plus, Quinton has been trained to remain calm under adverse conditions. And both he and Joyce love their jobs. Confronting people who have guns isn't all they do, as we all know. They also take reports, at least the deputies do. They answer alarms, arrest burglars and robbers, settle domestic disputes, write traffic tickets, direct traffic, patrol high crime neighborhoods, work vehicle accidents – lots of things. They say that ninety-five percent of what they do is boredom, and the other five percent is chaos. From what little experience I've had with the police reserves, that's about dead on."

Caitlin turned so Jeff could dry her back. "Well, they can keep their chaos. I hope I've had my share of that for a lifetime. And ... I still don't see how Joyce goes to work every day knowing that something like that could happen to her or to one of the other deputies."

"And your life is always calm in the hospital?" he teased.

"Not the same thing."

"Joyce might differ with you. It's still life and death, although you, the nurse, aren't in as much immediate danger, and the lives at risk are usually your patients' lives. Of course, one of your patients could flinch, causing you to stick yourself with a needle that has AIDS, or hepatitis C, or some other terrible disease organism on it."

"We're very careful about needle sticks..."

"But they can and do happen. That needle stick could very well kill you – well, excluding Little One's intervention, of course."

Dry, except for Caitlin's hair, they went into the walk-in closet to dress. "You look sexy, nude with that towel wrapped around your hair," the Prime said, his cock swelling noticeably as he quietly closed the door behind them. Caitlin reached in a drawer for panties, but as she bent over, she felt him snuggle against her hips, his now-erect cock sliding along her nether lips. After slowly moving it back and forth a couple of times, he pushed gently into her now wet sheath. With a contented sigh, she arched her ass upward as he bottomed out deep inside her. "Fuck me, Husband," she whispered. "Make me forget."

He did his best to do just that.

VAN AND ADRIANA'S FARM

Adriana grabbed Lillian's hand and dragged her into Adriana's bedroom. After closing the door, she yanked up her top. The two women had been the best of friends for years and had dressed together many times, although neither had any sexual inclination toward the other.

"What..." a startled Lillian began.

"Look at them," Adriana insisted.

"Well, they're..."

"Look at them. Really look at them. No sag – none," she said, shaking her shoulders, causing her breasts to sway and jiggle. "And look at this," she continued, pulling on her nipples. Shortly, she was rewarded with multiple thin streams of milk spurting out.

"Oh, my," Lillian hissed out. "How can you possibly have milk? What have you been taking to make you do that?"

Adriana laughed. "Nothing. It was simply..."

And the block locked her down with a flash of nausea.

Surprised, Adriana staggered and capped her hand over her mouth, fearing she was going to vomit. Finally regaining control and belatedly realizing what was happening, she thought, Diana said the block would warn me. If that was just a warning, I surely don't want to experience the real thing.

She turned a serious face to her friend. "I almost screwed up. I promised to keep some things secret. I just realized that I was going to say too much, but I'll be able to tell you everything, soon. Just please believe me when I say that what has happened to us is absolutely wonderful."

Lillian sat on the side of the bed wondering what was going on. Deciding that Adriana had just had a flash of conscience that made her look as if she were going to throw up, Lillian shrugged mentally and said, "Your body is fabulous, and like I said over at my house, the three of you look..."

"Healthy," Adriana offered. "I think that was the word you used."

"Yeah. Healthy ... and beautiful. Your breasts look as if you have never had kids. Heck, they look like they belong to an eighteen-year-old. I know you haven't had time for a boob job, and there certainly wouldn't have been time for it to heal, anyway. So, what's happened?"

"I really, really can't tell you right now. But, if you will trust me, I'll be able to tell you shortly, and Lillian..."

"Yeah?"

"You'll be the same. The same healthy appearance, and your boobs will look like they did when you were a teenager – only better. I promise. Not that they don't look nice now," Adriana quickly added.

Lillian didn't immediately respond, but sat thinking for a minute, then smiled a crooked smile. "Pull your top back down. Your boobs are beginning to affect even me. And ... if mine can look that good, I'll dance at your next wedd ... Oh," she finished as she suddenly realized what she was going to say. "Uh, I guess I might be doing that, anyway," she said with a chuckle.

Adriana grinned at her friend. "So, when are you going to tell our man that you'll marry him, hmmm? I assume by that comment that you are going to say yes."

"Was there ever any doubt?" Lillian tried to laugh, but somehow there were tears in her eyes. "Are you sure about this – really sure? I've always thought the world of Van, but I was in love with Ryan – deeply in love with him. I still miss him so much, but he told me to go on with my life if he didn't come back. He made me promise. But Van ... uh, I've never let myself go around him. I had too much respect for you to ever try to encroach on your property, but now ... When he kissed me there in my kitchen, I almost couldn't stand it. I can't believe how it affected me." She took a shaking breath. "Oh, Adriana, please don't dangle this in front of me and then take it away. With all that's happened, I just couldn't stand it."

Adriana sat down beside her friend and took the sniffling woman in her arms. After a moment, she reached over and pulled several tissues from the box on the bedside table, handing them to Lillian. After wiping her eyes and blowing her nose, Lillian looked at Adriana, both women suddenly breaking out in nervous giggles. "Does he have a big cock?" Lillian got out past a chuckle that threatened to become overpowering because of her embarrassment.

Adriana smirked out, "I guess you'll have to wait and judge that for yourself. But let's just say that I felt every bump in the drive over to your house and back on Skunk."

"You're teasing me. You've been married – what – twenty-one or twenty-two years? Whatever he has, you're bound to be used to it by now."

"He's an..." But Adriana stopped, wondering if saying the word "Alpha" would result in another flash of nausea. She couldn't decide, but Diana had warned that the nausea would be progressively worse if she pushed the block. One flash was quite enough as far as Adriana was concerned. "He's a lot more man than you think he is, but he would never intentionally hurt me – or you. We just got a little carried away last night. We have a lot to celebrate. I've decided to have another baby – maybe two or three more, even."

Lillian grabbed Adriana's hand for a moment. "Oh, Honey, that's great. What brought all this on?"

"Shit," Adriana exclaimed in frustration. "It's all connected. Like I told you, we need you to take a little trip with us. When we have permission, we'll tell you everything." Adriana reached to lovingly touch her friend's face. "And please don't think anything bad, for there isn't anything. We've simply made a promise and we're ... morally bound to honor that promise until certain ... things change. We want you to meet some very nice people, anyway. After that, we'll be able to tell you everything that's happened to us."

"Well, that makes everything clear as mud," Lillian laughed.

"So you will marry my husband then – marry us?"

"Us? Adriana, you know I'm not into girls. And I didn't think you were, either."

Adriana was shaking her head and chuckling. "No. No. I'm definitely not into girls, even a girl I love as much as I do you. But I think our marriage should be just that – ours. All three of us to each other. All equal. You will have just as much right to my husband as I already have. You and I will be sister-wives. If we want, we can have a contract like the Matthews. I read it over, and it is truly beautiful. But in addition, it will protect the one or ones remaining should something bad happen. And Lil, the contract is binding forever. It can not be broken. There can be no divorce, for we won't be married in the eyes of the law, but our marriage will have a far deeper bond than any other manner of marriage could ever have."

"And I'm going to understand all this after we go wherever were going – to see these Matthews people, or whatever?"

Adriana hugged her again. "Oh, I know it sounds..."

"Weird," Lillian supplied.

" ... weird, but so help me, it's the truth. I swear to you I haven't lied about anything."

Lillian let out a snigger. "Oh, I already knew that. You are the absolute worst liar I have ever known. You couldn't lie about how many sandwiches you made for lunch."

Adriana let out a girlish giggle, something she just realized she had been doing a lot of, lately. "Well, I actually didn't make them. Paulette did. Now, when are you going to give my husband the answer to his question?"

Lillian didn't answer, but said instead, "I know how Paulette feels about the marriage, she was certainly open about that, and I'm flattered," she laughed, "but what about Jeremy? I watched him grow up into a fine young man. In addition, I owe him a lot for all the work he has done for me after Ryan was killed. I wouldn't want to ... barge into his family without his permission. What would I be – his step-mom? I imagine most young men would not be pleased with a father bringing a second woman into his mother's marriage."

Adriana was shaking her head. "And even if he isn't pleased with it – which he will be – how can he possibly say anything? He just married two women, both of whom are four years or so older than he is. As far as that's concerned, you can ask him when he gets here. You've always been direct. You used to laugh about embarrassing Ryan. No use to be coy about this; just flat out ask him if you have his permission, if that's what you want. I know my son. He cares too much for you to do anything to hurt your feelings. He'll be one hundred percent behind our marriage."

"Are we ... I mean, uh, how are we going to ... share Van?" Lillian's face flushed a deep red as she struggled to go on. "Every other night? Both together? How do we do that? What about our periods? How are we going to make this work? Oh, gosh, Adriana, I'm already shaking, and I haven't even told him 'yes' yet."

Adriana thought for a moment. "I can't imagine not sleeping with my husband every night. Every other night hasn't even crossed my mind. Would you be embarrassed for us to love him together? I don't think I would be – not with you. We've done about everything else together: Canned food, cooked together for Christmas and Thanksgiving, gardened, worked in the fields together, even helped with the births of animals. Tons of things. I think it would be a real turn on to watch the two of you make love."

"I don't know. I think I could make love to him with you there, but ... I'm shaking. This has all been so sudden. I mean, the three of you just walked in..."

Adriana got up and went to the door. Opening it for a moment, she called out, "Van. I need you in here for a minute."

Paulette and her father were sitting in the kitchen. "Looks like you're on again," Paulette said with a giggle. "Just remember, you don't have time for both of them just now. Jeremy and the others will be here in a few minutes."

"Paulette," Van admonished, but somehow he couldn't follow through with what he had started to say. Then, "This is serious," he finished.

"Daddy, I love Lillian, too. But lighten up." Then with a devilish look on her face, "Of course you could ask Jeremy for pointers," she added, her laughter increasing.

As Van passed by her seat, he mussed her hair like he used to when she was little. "I'll be back in a minute."

"If you're not, I'll send Connie and Denise to find you when they get here."

He could still hear Paulette laughing when he stopped at the bedroom door, wondering if he should knock. It's my bedroom,  he thought as he steeled himself and walked on in, closing the door behind him.

Lillian was sitting frozen on the bed with a deer-in-the-headlights look – still. Adriana was sitting in a chair nearby, smiling.

"Ask her again, Baby," his wife instructed. "We blew her away with the suddenness before." Smiling, she mouthed him a kiss.

Not even bothering to argue, Van again went to a knee in front of Lillian as she sat on the side of the bed, taking her hands in his. "Lil, I love you, and I guess I have for a long time. Why all this is happening, I don't know, but I'm not foolish enough to let the opportunity pass. Will you marry me – us? Be part of our marriage? I promise to love you with all my heart for as long as I live."

With a choked-off sob and a, "Yes, yes, yes," Lillian launched herself at the kneeling man. He had one knee on the floor, the other pulled up a bit, the position none to stable to begin with. When Lillian's weight hit him, he had no way to stabilize himself. With an, "Uumph," he went over backward with Lillian winding up lying on his chest, their faces only inches apart. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her for all he was worth.

Although Jeff had explained about the switch and pheromones, Van was new to the concepts. His control was meager. So far, he had held his pheromones back, even when he and Adriana made love, or at least held the most of them back. Lillian wasn't the only one who was stressed. Van loved his wife, and from the beginning was very concerned about this multiple marriage that she had envisioned. He loved Lillian, and she was a sexy woman, but he worried that Adriana had not thought this through, so his nerves weren't any more stable than his kneeling position had been.

Now on his back, with a very exuberant Lillian lying on his chest, her breasts – breasts that were new to him – pressing against his chest and her sexy mouth only inches from his, he lost control of his newfound pheromone ability. As their lips touched and parted slightly for their souls to mingle, he unconsciously released a gush of pheromones.

Lillian pressed her breasts to his chest, moaning into his mouth as she squirmed her groin against him. Within seconds, Adriana was lying beside them, trying to insinuate her body into the embrace. Something finally clicked in Van's brain when he realized that he had one of Lillian's naked breasts in his hand, and he couldn't even remember pushing her top up, let alone undoing her bra.

"They're here, you guys," Paulette called out from the kitchen.

Van, panting like the two women, managed to figure out what was wrong and shut down the pheromones. As the three struggled to their feet, he moved his stone-hard cock to a more comfortable position and pulled his shirt out of his pants to cover the bulge.

With fumbling fingers, Lillian rehooked her front-catch bra, her face flaming red. Adriana stood looking down at herself, her long nipples fully extended and leaking milk that had already dampened her top.

"Oh, shit," Van mumbled. "They're going to know what we've been doing – or think they know, anyway."

"We would have been in another minute," Adriana said with a nervous laugh. "What did you do? Was that your pheromones? I've never been..." Then with a shiver, "still am so aroused I can barely think."

"Pheromones?" Lillian repeated, seeming to come out of her daze, somewhat.

Van took a shuddering breath. "Jeff said to be careful with them, and to only let a little out during our love making. I'm ... sorry."

"Sorry," Lillian said with a repressed giggle. "You just need to do that when we're not expecting company, and ... don't mind being raped."

"Let's get out of this room," Van mumbled, "before I grab one of you and start this all over again. It affected me just as much – still is."

As her husband reached for the door, Adriana stopped him with a touch. "Baby, we need to get this done – get Lillian married to us. Diana said that once an Alpha chooses his mate, nothing could stop it. I know what she means now. It's not fair to make Lillian wait," she finished, pulling her friend over and wrapping an arm protectively around her. "She was bound to you by her love for you before, that's the reason she never dated any of those men who tried to take her out, but Diana says the pheromones will seal the love forever. If you feel this like we do, then you know we need to finish this."

Before they could say anything more, they heard Jeremy, Connie and Denise in the kitchen. "Where are Mom and Dad?" Jeremy asked Paulette.

"Be there in a minute," Van quickly called out before Paulette could say they were in the bedroom. Not that my calling out saved anything,  Van thought as they entered the kitchen a moment later, all three with flushed faces, and Adriana with two big wet spots around the bumps showing through her top.

"Uh," Jeremy got out, obviously having decided that he had just caught his mom and dad fucking, and maybe even doing it with Lillian.

Connie elbowed her husband in the short ribs, and disdaining to notice anything, brightly said, "We got carried away at the grocery store. Any of this stuff that you guys can't use, we'll take home with us."

THE RETREAT

When Jeff and Caitlin walked into the kitchen, all the Prime's wives, plus the Sheriff and his wives, were there. Quinton came quickly to his feet, stepped over and hugged Caitlin, his concern obviously sincere. "How are you?" he quietly whispered in her ear.

As he moved back a little, Caitlin looked up at him. "Thanks to you, I'm perfectly fine. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

"Oh, bullshit. I was just doing my job, and we all know it. I just wish I could shoot that ass a few more times."

As he reseated himself at the table and accepted a refill of his coffee from Diana, he continued to Caitlin and the others, "No matter how long I have this job, the things some people decide to do never ceases to amaze me. And ... I suspect that Adair is shaking in his boots right now. He should have been listening to you, Caitlin, and the other nurses, before things got this bad."

Diana spoke up. "That reminds me. Mr. Adair called and said that Caitlin could take a couple of weeks with pay because of what's happened to her. He also said that the hospital would pay for a counselor for any stress this incident might have caused."

"'Might have caused?'" Jeff grumbled.

"Trying to cover his ass," Quinton added. "Oh, and by the way, the assistant, this Solomon guy, is squealing his head off, and has volunteered to show us everything. His lawyer kept telling him to hush, but finally just gave up and sat back watching in disgust. To tell you the truth, I feel sorry for Solomon. I think he got pushed into this and couldn't do a lot to stop what was going on – at least without exposing himself. Besides, he gave the money back that he had received from McMasters, and Adair accepted it. I suspect that will mitigate his prosecution to a great extent ... if he's prosecuted at all. That's up to the DA. To tell you the truth, if it were left up to me, I would just fire the guy and call it even."

Their conversation went on for a while before Tate looked around. "Where's Joyce?"

"Still asleep," Jeff offered. "She lost a couple of hours in the middle of her sleep period, so we didn't wake her after our nap."

Tate grinned at the Prime. "So? She's had enough of a nap. Somebody needs to get her up."

Jeff raised an eyebrow and looked at his Alpha.

Tate grinned back at him. "Get her up."

"I'll do it, Dad," Arlene volunteered as she hurried out.

Dressed in a robe, a tousled-haired Joyce entered the kitchen a few minutes later, bent on finding a cup of coffee. A moment later, cup in hand, she leaned back against the kitchen counter and glared at her boss. "You know I'm going to be sleepy tonight."

"Then go to bed early," Tate said with a grin. "You're off for the next two shifts."

"What? Sheriff, you can't do that. I don't have permission from my Lieutenant or Sergeant. If you just write me off, it will look like you crammed it down their throats..."

But Tate was chuckling. "He was in court this morning and heard everything go down on the radio. He knows enough about your situation here to know you need to be off with Caitlin. He was the one who called me, and ... saved me calling him. Nobody is going to think a thing about it. Besides, you've worked extra, worked many double shifts, and more. We have enough people now, and you can take off a couple of shifts without concern. Joyce, I've had a number of good reports on you, both from your Shift Commander and his Shift Sergeant. You don't slack – ever. If there's a fight, you jump right in. If there's a foot chase, you're there. Your reports are superb. You're part of the team. If anything, you're trying too hard. I'm afraid you might get yourself hurt."

"I'm not going to get hurt. I'm always careful," Joyce argued.

"Okay, I'll leave that up to you, but you need to be off with Caitlin, and ... you need to take some of your comp time. I'm certainly aware that we have a number of new personnel that don't have a lot of experience – if anyone ever has enough experience – but that's the Lieutenant and Sergeant's problem. They're both intelligent people. They can handle it, or I would never have put them there to begin with."

Joyce looked at him, her face stern for a moment, until she couldn't hold it any longer. Laughing, she said, "I would hug you, except you're my boss."

Quinton grabbed her, almost getting coffee spilled on himself, and pulled her onto his lap. "When has that ever stopped you before?"

Joyce laughed, set her coffee down and hugged the Alpha. Then kissing his cheek, said simply, "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

As soon as Joyce left to go to the other end of the kitchen to help with supper, Jeff looked over at Tate. "Thanks, Quinton."

"Thanks for what? Her Lieutenant really did call me."

"Sure he did, Quinton. Sure he did."

"Damnit, Jeff, he did."

Caitlin came over and plopped down in Tate's lap. "I have my husband's permission and your wives' permission," she mysteriously said. Leaning up, she put a hand on either side of the Sheriff's face, and gave him an open-mouth kiss that went on for a good ten seconds. Tate wasn't sure what to do, his mind overwhelmed by the Prime's wife suddenly kissing him, but he finally encircled her with his arms.

As soon as she pulled away, the big man blushed crimson as she said, "Thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving me today. I'll never forget what you did – never."

"That goes for all of us," Jeff said. "Quinton, if there's ever..."

"I know," Tate interrupted, "but you've already done so many marvelous things for me and my family. And really, I was just doing my job."

Caitlin kissed him on the cheek, said, "Yeah, right," giggled, and went back to the other women.

The Prime grinned over at the embarrassed Sheriff. "That was just two of them. You still have twelve more to go. They'll eventually all get around to you, and they all have permission from your wives and me. But I ain't gonna kiss you," he finished with a chuckle.



-------

Chapter 192

VAN AND ADRIANA'S FARM

Van and Jeremy found themselves awkwardly standing in the kitchen after all the women seemed to have come to some silent agreement and hurried to Paulette's bedroom. Van supposed they had opted for some type of female conference, and he also wondered if Adriana was avoiding the pheromone-laden air of the couple's own bedroom.

"What brought that on?" Jeremy wondered aloud, then without waiting for an answer, "I guess we need to put up the cold stuff," he commented as he took a container of ice cream from a grocery bag.

Van avoided answering Jeremy's question about the women. "You three went a bit overboard," he said somewhat inanely as he stood with several items in his hands with no idea where to put them. "What's all this stuff?"

"I guess Connie and Denise felt guilty about coming for another meal without bringing something. I just pushed the cart."

"Learning to say 'yes, Ma'am' already?" Van tried to joke.

Jeremy put the ice cream inside, closed the freezer door and turned back to his father. "Dad, what the fuck is going on?"

Van, stood holding a can of walnuts and a bag of chocolate chips. Not knowing what else to do with them, he just put them on a kitchen counter. Stopping to give a furtive glance at his son, the father cleared his throat and said, "Let's get the steaks marinating, then I'll ... tell you what's happened."

Since it was becoming obvious that the women weren't coming back anytime soon, father and son put potatoes in to bake and tossed a garden salad. Later as they stood on the deck ready to put the steaks on the grill, Jeremy's exasperation reached a peak. "Dammit, Dad..."

"I'm going to marry Lillian," Van blurted out.

"You're..." Jeremy started, but stopped when he saw the look on his father's face.

"Look, Son, I know how kids don't want to think about their parents being ... well ... making love – having a sex life. But your mom is still a young woman and ... well, I'm sure not an old man. Hell, I'm not even forty, yet. With Little One, I feel better than I did at twenty, and in case you haven't noticed, your mom is already showing the effects of what the Healer did to her – I guess I am, too."

"I never thought of you two as being old..." Jeremy started, then a look of comprehension struck his face. "Alphas – we're Alphas, and Mom is becoming a Queen, isn't she? I mean ... uh, I saw those splotches on her blouse. Jeff said his Queens lactated. That has to be it, isn't it?" Then after a second, continued almost to himself, "She is looking younger."

Van let out a sigh. "Look, Jeremy, I've had feelings for Lillian. Feelings I haven't acted on in any way, even though I've had those feelings for a long time now. It's not that I just feel sorry for her, hell, we all do. But in addition to that, she's a fine person, and suddenly she's thrown into an impossible situation after losing the man she loved. I swear, though, I've kept those feelings bottled up – well, until today. I love your mother more than life itself, then when she suddenly hit me with this idea, well ... she overwhelmed me. I swear to you that it was her idea, and she's behind this one hundred percent. Your mother wants me to marry Lillian. More – she practically demands it. And you're right; she thinks she's becoming a Queen. She says her suddenly lactating is proof of it."

"And..." Jeremy said, his inflection unfathomable to his father.

"If you three had been a few minutes later getting here we would have ... uh ... consummated the marriage before it happened."

At Jeremy's amused look and beginning chuckle, Van went quickly on, "I asked Lillian to marry... us, and she, well, we wound up on the floor with her hugging me, and I kissed her and ... I guess I screwed up and let my pheromones loose – completely, I think. If you hadn't come in when you did, we would have been..."

By then, Van was beginning to be a bit pissed as his son's laughter quickly escalated into guffaws. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit," Jeremy got out as he held his belly and sat down hard – collapsed – onto an Adirondack chair behind him.

"It's not that funny. Have you let your pheromones go? I wouldn't laugh too loud until you have. Jeff cautioned me to be very careful with them, and in the beginning to only use them when we were already making love, but Lillian surprised me, and she felt so good with her breasts pressed against my chest, and she was..." He had started to say something about her squirming her pussy against him, but decided to shut up before he embarrassed himself more. "And, well, anyway, I finally realized that I had dumped pheromones – a lot of pheromones. The women were practically raping me. Then we heard you in the kitchen. Another few seconds and nothing would have stopped us."

Jeremy, his face still red from laughing, looked at his father, who was obviously becoming more frustrated by the moment. "Dad, it's not what you think," he gasped out. Then taking a breath to calm himself, "Oh, sure, I find it terribly amusing that my parents just lost it and were preparing to, uh, fuck like rabbits, but that isn't all I was laughing about." After a last chuckle, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. "Uh, you see, I decided to experiment a little last night. Well, I guess we experienced just about what you did. We're out here now – not that we don't enjoy being here, because we certainly do – but well, we're all too sore to make love tonight. I thought I could do the pheromone thing, you know, just let a little out to enhance our love making, but I guess I got a bit too excited. My women and I almost fucked each other to death – not that I'm complaining, mind you," he said with a chuckle, "but we're definitely out of commission tonight."

"So, with nothing else to do, you decided to come visit your parents," Van said, trying to keep his face straight.

"Dad, it wasn't..."

Van laughed at his son's discomfiture, "Oh, I know that, but I couldn't resist. Anyway, I now know what Jeff was talking about when he said Little One was stronger than she used to be. Something about her enhancements coming about quicker – more fully – and not giving the new enhanced Alpha time to get used to his abilities, I think was the way he phrased it."

Jeremy got up and took their iced tea glasses into the house to refill them. Back a moment later, he handed his dad his glass and grinned at the older man. "So what are you going to do?"

Van didn't answer for a moment as he turned the steaks. Finally looking back at his son, "I'm almost afraid to be in the same room with them. I'm afraid I'll pick up where we left off. You don't understand how intense..." but he stopped when he saw the grin getting bigger on his son's face. "Well, maybe you do," he finished with a little chuckle.

"Measure Mom and Lillian, call up Diana and get her to call the measurements in to the dress shop. I understand they're running a night shift, and Diana's orders are always next. I'm sure the Matthews will marry the three of you any time you wish. They have the marriage thing down to a fine art. Marry Lillian, or take her as your mate, then marry her whenever the three of you decide. But, Dad, if all three of you have felt those pheromones, you know you're going to take Lillian sooner or later – probably sooner."

Van sighed again, thinking he had done that a lot lately. "The way the women were acting, sooner would be more likely. Do you suppose..."

Jeremy interrupted with, "The Matthews have been involved in this Alpha thing much longer than we have. What Jeff told me just makes more sense now, and from what you just said, it does to you, too. Get on the phone, or better yet, have Mom talk to Diana. If Mom thinks she's a Queen..."

"She suddenly started lactating," Van reminded.

" ... then she and Diana are the ones who need to discuss this."

"Son giving the father instructions..." Van started with an amused look on his face.

Jeremy chuckled. "I have twenty-four hours more experience with the pheromones than you do, Dad, and a whole lot more soreness."

Van didn't immediately respond to his son's words, but said instead, "Call the women. We're ready to eat as soon as we get this meat back into the kitchen."

THE RETREAT

Jeff's wives, along with Sheriff Tate's wives, sat in the living room near the fire, soft drinks nearby as they chatted. When the phone rang, Arlene answered it, talked for a few moments, then brought the instrument to her mother. "It's Adriana."

After greetings, Adriana hesitated slightly before she continued, "Diana, you talked about Queens, and said that most multiple marriages had one, right?"

"Yes," the Queen responded, "that's true, if there is an enhanced Alpha involved, and one of the wives fulfills certain conditions, of course."

Adriana went on. "And if a wife decides to have another woman join their marriage – mate with her husband – it can cause changes that result in the original wife becoming a Queen, right?"

"That's the way I understand it. But remember, as I told you before, much of this is guesswork from what's happened to us, and from what Little One has told Jeff about the race that created her. Also, there are born Queens, according to Little One. I think Mom and Arlene fall into that category – as well as me, I guess."

"I'm giving milk like I have twins," Adriana blurted.

Diana sat quietly, knowing there was more. Then finally, "And..."

"I decided that Lillian, our next door neighbor who lost her husband a few years back ... well, I decided that Van needs to marry her. This morning, I woke up with my nipples itching like crazy. When I scratched them, my fingers came away wet with milk. It's been increasing ever since. I finally found my breast pump from when I weaned Paulette. It still works..."

"So Van doesn't like to nurse?" Diana teased.

Adriana didn't notice the teasing and answered instead, "It's not that. I think he would love to nurse me. It's just that he ... uh, kinda lost it with his pheromones. The first thing we knew, Lillian and I were well on our way to raping him – not that he was resisting any. If it hadn't been for Jeremy and his wives arriving just then, we would probably still be going at it. But he loves Lillian, and she loves him. I'm sure the sex would have been wonderful, but we all want us to be married before we do that."

"So?" Diana prompted. "I assume you want us to marry you, or we probably wouldn't be having this conversation right now. When? We can do it anytime."

Adriana hesitated for a second. "Di, I want it to be special for her, " she said as she locked eyes with Lillian who was sitting only a few feet away. "She's had such a hard time, and she loved her husband so much. Do you think there's any way we can get that dress shop to make the two of us matching wedding dresses, and do it quickly? We told her about the wedding Connie, Denise and my son had. She's insistent that we both wear wedding dresses and have a wedding like theirs, if possible. I know the dress shop made Connie and Denise's dresses quickly, and we have the money, but..."

Diana chuckled. "You sound like you're really in a hurry."

"Di, I feel ... strongly about this." Adriana stood and walked to the other side of the room before speaking quietly into the phone. "I want the next time Van and I make love to be with the three of us – to include Lillian. And now that Van has been enhanced, and he's used his pheromones, I... we can wait only so long."

"And you have been enhanced, too," Diana injected.

"Uh, yeah, I guess you're right. Since we were at the Retreat, Van and I can't seem to keep our hands off each other. When he got down on his knees and asked Lillian to marry him, we all wound up on the floor when she tried to get into his lap. He let too much of his pheromones go and we almost raped him right there. We want to be married before we make love the first time – all three of us together, that is," she repeated, "but waiting is going to be a problem after what he did with his pheromones."

Adriana went back over and reseated herself, apologizing to Lillian and telling her it was more of the things that she would know about in the next few days. Then back to Diana on the phone.

"Do you remember how to take the measurements like you did for Connie and Denise?"

"Sure."

"Take them as soon as you can, and call me. What size is Lillian?"

Adriana looked over at her friend. "Practically my size. We've swapped outfits before. I guess my bust might be a little larger than hers right now, since I'm lactating," she finished with a blush, after Lillian's nod of agreement.

"Okay, we've ordered so many dresses from Dana that she almost has a production line with our sizes. Maybe she will have something that she can put together quickly. It will probably be the same style dress that Connie and Denise wore, if that's all right with you?"

There was a pause as Adriana conferred with her friend. Then, "Uh, Lillian has seen the pictures of Connie and Denise in their wedding dresses, and she says that the style is beautiful and just perfect for us. I agree. I'll call you back after we have the measurements."

"If we can get them in, and Dana's people can finish up the dresses tonight, Jeff and I can marry you tomorrow night. Would that be okay? If so, you guys need to be here first thing so we can get things set up for the wedding."

"That would be wonderful. Lil and I will sleep in a spare bedroom tonight. It isn't fair for me to sleep with my husband without her being there, particularly after what's happened. Besides, I can't seem to keep my mouth shut anymore while Van and I are making love. After the pheromones, I doubt if Lillian could stay away when she hears me screaming out my orgasms. And ... there's no way I'm going to let her sleep alone over at her house. She's part of us now," Adriana finished as she smiled and reached over to take Lillian's hand.

Diana gave out a sexy little chuckle as she met her daughter's questioning eyes, then responded to Adriana with, "Our bedroom isn't exactly the quietest place on Earth, either."

Adriana let out a giggle as she imagined what Diana's bedroom must be like, "Thanks Diana. Thanks for everything. I'll call you back as soon as we have the measurements. Oh, and Paulette will want to be a bridesmaid this time."

"Certainly," Diana responded. "We'll be awaiting your call."

VAN AND ADRIANA'S KITCHEN

Later, Van, Adriana, Lillian and Paulette, along with Jeremy and his new wives, sat at the kitchen table eating ice cream. Paulette glanced around at the happy faces. "I think it's time for us to have a family meeting."

Because his daughter sounded so serious, Van thought to kid her about it. "Is this an official meeting?" he tried to joke.

"Van," Adriana said, her look of reproach and inflection of voice stilling his tongue instantly.

Red-faced, "Uh, sorry, Kitten," he apologized to his daughter as his wife glared at him.

"I'm trying to be an adult, Daddy."

"Yes, Baby. I realize that now," he quietly said.

Lillian began to rise from her chair. "Uh, I'll go wait in the living room."

"Sit," Adriana instructed, putting a hand on her friend's arm. "Tomorrow night, if things go the way we hope, you'll be married to Van just as I am. You're family. You belong right where you are."

"Thanks," Lillian choked out past a suddenly tight throat as she settled back into her seat.

"So what have you got, Daughter?" Adriana said as she reached over to pat Paulette's hand.

Nervous, Paulette took a sip of her coke before continuing. "Am I the only one who has noticed that Mr. Aldridge's farm is for sale?"

Van, suddenly a lot more serious, looked at his wife and raised an eyebrow. When she shook her head, he looked at the others, then back at his daughter. "I guess, for the last year or so, Ben's talked off and on about moving to his son's place, but he hasn't said anything definite. I never really thought he would give up his farm."

"It's lonely being by yourself," Lillian commented, "and he's getting up there, isn't he?"

Van nodded his head. "I guess you're right. His son has a ranch with a big house that has a separate apartment in it. He's been trying to get Ben to come live with them for years."

"As we passed by on the school bus this morning, I saw him putting a 'For Sale" sign out by the road," Paulette said.

Note: Van and his neighbors live on a loop that runs off the main road. Driving by Aldridge's house would be the long way out, so the family usually goes the short way, but the school bus makes the full loop, which also goes by Ben Aldridge's house.

"But why didn't he ask us first?" Adriana wanted to know.

Van shifted in his seat. "Uh, I guess he did, kind of. He said something a few months ago about going to live with his son, but he's threatened to do that before, and I guess I just didn't put much stock in what he said about moving."

"Was there a price on the sign?" Adriana asked her daughter. Then answering herself, "No, of course not."

"It just said, For Sale by Owner," Paulette answered, "and had his phone number."

"Damn," Van grumbled. "First we don't have enough land, then we get two farms combined – well if Lillian agrees – and now the one on the other side comes up for sale."

"You know that I want you to run my place. What's mine is yours when we marry."

"The same for us," Adriana assured her friend, then turning to her husband. "Van?" Adriana started, "I think..."

"Listen to me," Paulette insisted.

"But I thought that was what you wanted to tell us," Adriana answered with a frown.

"That's part of it." Paulette took a breath, hesitating. She had never done anything like this before, hadn't even dreamed of it until this morning. "You wanted me to act like an adult – in other words, to be an adult before I could marry my brother. Right, Mom and Dad?"

"Baby..." Van started.

"Right or wrong, Dad?"

Van looked at his wife, knowing the ice was suddenly thin under his feet, but not fully understanding just why. By the look of dawning comprehension on Adriana's face, she had already figured it out, though. "Uh, right, Baby," he quickly said. "But fifteen isn't even the legal age of consent..." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Adriana's frown beginning. "I'm listening, Baby," he quickly added as he looked at his daughter.

Instead of Paulette continuing to her father, she turned to Jeremy. "You and your wives now have college money, correct?"

"More than enough," Jeremy agreed. "We've already discussed setting some aside for your college as well. We know that you're going to be my wife sooner or later."

Paulette fought to keep the joy from her voice, striving to keep to her all-business demeanor. Turning back to her father, she went quickly on, "And Jeff has said he would finance buying Lillian's farm under certain conditions, right?"

Van, uncomfortable, crossed his legs, but stared his daughter in the eye. "I don't know what his conditions are, but yes, he said he would help us if we needed it. In fact, he was quite emphatic about it."

"No reason to buy my farm now," Lillian injected.

Paulette let her eyes track around the table, meeting each person's gaze for an instant. Taking a breath and grabbing her sibling's hand, but speaking to everyone, "My brother was raised on a farm – this farm. There isn't anything he doesn't know about running one. He has two wives who work in an industrial environment," she said, trying to sound adult. "They would learn about farming very quickly, and I could be a lot of help. If nothing else, I could babysit for whoever needs me."

"You mean..." Van got out, the gears turning in his head.

"Lillian can rent out her house, and maybe even some garden space. The house rental will bring in some money. We could run all three farms together as one with Dad in overall charge. Jeremy, Denise and Connie could quit their jobs and attend college online in their spare time. We wouldn't have to hire any more help than we do now – just for planting time and harvest. All of us working together will make us a lot of money. It will work. I know it will ... We'll have three farms combined into one, and Lillian will be a part of us."

With a smirk on her face, Adriana said, "And my daughter will only be a stone's throw away, where she will be living with her new husband and sister-wives in Mr. Aldridge's big old house. Just a farm family, all working together, where no one will ever notice anything out of the ordinary about who is sleeping with whom, hmmm?"

Paulette grinned at her in answer.

"I don't know anything about a farm," Connie reasoned. "I'm not against the idea – far from it – but..."

Jeremy leaned over and kissed her cheek. Then sitting back, said, "Oh come on, Baby. You operate the crane as well as any of the guys there have ever seen. They've told me so. Believe me, if you screwed up, they would notice, and since you're female, would be very vocal about it. Both of you have run the track loader and smaller rubber-tired front end loaders, not to mention driving all of the trucks. There's nothing on the farm either of you will have any problems learning to operate. The rest will come from day-to-day living."

Connie and Denise stared at each other for a second. "Baby, we're with you," they both said in perfect unison as they looked at their husband.

"It's your decision," Connie added.

"Can we swing it without Jeff?" Jeremy asked his dad.

"I already have a loan..." Lillian started.

" ... That we'll pay off in a year," Van interrupted. "You need to stop worrying about that. As of tomorrow night, you'll be my wife. Your bills are my bills."

Lillian blinked back tears of thankfulness as she took a bite of her melting icecream and said with a grin, "Yes, Dear."

After general laughter, "Jeremy's question is valid," Adriana reminded.

Van cleared his throat. "Depends on how much Ben wants for the place and what kind of interest we have to pay. We can swing it, if his price is reasonable – but we might be tight for a while. If something goes wrong..."

Adriana met her husband's eyes. "You need to go over there and talk to him, Baby. Get an idea of what he expects to sell for, and see if he will take that sign down until we can talk to Jeff. Maybe give him some earnest money if necessary. If Jeff will finance us with less interest than the bank or the Co-Op, we'll be ahead of the game. You can talk to him tomorrow."

"It all depends on Aldridge's bottom line," Van answered.

"And you haven't left yet?" his wife teased.

"I'm gone," Van chuckled. After kissing his women, he donned his coat and went out the back. A moment later, they heard Skunk start and head toward Aldridge's house.

THE RETREAT

A little later, Adriana called Diana with the measurements. "I'll call these in..." Diana started.

"Uh, Di. Could you call me back afterward? I need to tell you what's going on, and maybe ask you about some things."

Diana could hear a deep sincerity in Adriana's voice. "You bet. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

"Thanks Di. I hate to be a bother..."

"No bother, Adriana. Don't even start to go there. I'll call you right back." There was a pause as Diana's eyes focused on her daughter. Then, "Hang on for a second."

Muting the phone, she motioned Arlene over and handed her the measurements that Diana had written on a pad. "Call these in to the dress shop and ask if they can have the dresses ready in time for a fitting tomorrow afternoon. If they seem hesitant, tell them that I really need them and there will be a bonus if we get them in time."

Arlene grinned. "Gotcha, Mom. Consider it done." Shortly she had grabbed a phone, punched in another line, and was talking to someone at Dana's shop.

Diana pressed the Mute button again. "Okay, I'm back," she told Adriana. "Now what's bothering you?"

-------

Still later, Jeff sat in the living room with his wives, Caitlin snuggled on his lap. The computer switched the TV from the sitcom they were watching and the AI announced, "THE SHIP HAS RETURNED." But the scene on the big screen was that of an empty firing range lit only by distant security lights and moonlight.

Odd. Now how could our system detect the Ship unless she wanted us to be aware she was home? She's still invisible. Turning to Diana, he said, "I'm going to check on her. Something's ... different."

"Don't stay too long."

As Caitlin stood, she turned and lightly kissed her husband. "Hurry back. I need some more cuddle time."

"Oh, this should only take a minute," the Prime chuckled as he hurried out.

Disdaining to wear a coat, he jogged down the hall and out through the inside garage door. The Ship's ramp dropped down and became visible as he neared, the moonlight on the snow adding even more eeriness to the ramp and opening to nowhere.

As soon as he stepped through the hatch, Jeff could feel Little One tense.



-------

Chapter 193


As soon as he stepped through the hatch, Jeff could feel Little One tense. Instead of the Ship greeting him as she always did, she remained silent. When he walked down the corridor toward the bridge, the feeling of ... wrongness increased – nothing easily identifiable, just something a little off. The lighting was, perhaps, a shade darker and maybe with more of a blue cast, the temperature a degree or two cooler. Something that only an Alpha would notice.

The bridge, on the other hand, sprang to brightness as he entered – a little brighter than normal. The command couches and screens appeared the same. Still, the Ship didn't acknowledge him until he sat on his couch. Yes, Prime? she said, her mental voice sounding ... odd, perhaps a bit too formal as she immersed him into her mind.

Jeff settled himself more comfortably into the couch. There was a slight hesitation before it snuggled to him. Shrugging mentally, he thought to her, I was curious as to how my AI was able to detect you when you came back? I know you're capable of preventing any of our technology from alerting to you.

Again, there was a slight hesitation before the mental exchange continued. I wished to advise you of my arrival.

And...  the Prime offered.

The General's people completed their running experiments and removed their equipment.

Jeff let out a sigh, his temper beginning to rise just a little, although he strove to prevent it. So what's wrong? You sound like Diana used to when she was pissed at me, but wouldn't come out and tell me what I had done to tick her off. Jeff started to add more, but snapped the thought off before he could project it.

There was a longer hesitation, then with a rush of emotions that staggered him mentally, the Ship was back. You went off down that mountain without a thought for your own safety. We both know that the incident with your mate could have been a ruse to draw you away from your secure position. You could have died from an attack. You could have died from your vehicle leaving the roadway on one of those curves, or you could have died from attackers hidden along the way. What you did was irresponsible. You could have been killed, and there was no logical reason for your actions. The mental tirade continued, pounding into him, a wash of emotions and thoughts that threatened to sweep him away. And there was no reason for exposing yourself in that manner. I could have returned in seconds. I could have delivered you to your mate, could have protected you far better than your security force. I could...  And the thoughts snapped off, leaving him wondering.

I had no real way to contact you...  he began.

But she was instantly back. Little One could have contacted me – she did before... 

And her energies would have been almost instantly depleted. I needed her with me in case she had to heal Caitlin...  But he knew his logic was flawed – and the Ship pounced.

But you used up her energies as she assisted you in keeping your vehicle from overturning. She had no energy left to attend to your mate, should that energy have been needed.

As the Prime began to wonder how the Ship knew that, he could feel Little One mentally cringe, even as the Ship continued, You forget the speed of thought. I received a full accounting from my Healer the instant you stepped on board. She is a part of me – a small part, but a part, still. I already knew about the incident from the radio/video traffic between the Base and Security, I am now aware of her involvement. She should have communicated with me.

Do not chastise her,  the Prime snarled out. She obeys me, both because I'm her Prime and because she loves me – and I, her. She had no choice in the matter. Conversely, she converted energy and supported my weak abilities in order to keep the SUV on the road. Sheriff Tate, one of my Alphas, as you know, took care of the situation before I arrived, but there was no way I could know what was to happen. I had to respond to my mate's call for help. I had to. Little One assisted me the only way she could. We were both exhausted by the time it was over. If she had been a part of my unit, I would have given her a commendation. As it is, I can only give her my love and humble thanks. I will not have her censured for her actions,  he finished as he tried to rein in his temper.

After a couple of seconds, Jeff took a breath, wondering if he had overstepped. Suddenly he was hit with so much love from the Ship that his mind struggled to understand it. He could swear it was Diana that was saying, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," over and over while wringing her hands. He took a breath, realizing that it was just his mind interpreting the mental wash of emotions pouring over him. You could have been killed. I should have foreseen something of this nature and prepared for it. It is all my fault. I did not protect my commander sufficiently.

The barely hidden anger the Ship had exhibited from the time he had stepped aboard was gone, replaced by the rush of love with the giant mind almost begging for forgiveness. That was an incorrect manner of communication. Please forgive me. I realized I could have lost my Prime.

Hush,  Jeff told her, reaching out and taking her in his mental arms. We're all fine. I'm fine. You and I just had a communication problem. Something we must find a way to fix. You don't fully understand anyone at the Base, yet you have learned to understand most of the radio and video communications. Portable radios won't work past your shields, and indeed won't work inside you, nor will our watches, yet you have learned to tap into our communications – at least to some extent. We just have to find a way for me to communicate with you without using Little One's emergency system, even if the new communication system is one way only.

Jeff, frustrated, thought to himself, It would be easy to contact someone at the base and have them relay the message – except, the Ship disdains to accept communication from anyone except me. Well, that's not entirely true, she did allow several pilots to sit in the control couches – of course they went nuts, but still ... Then again, there's Arlene. And the Ship talked to Kayla with me there, although it scared the shit out of Kayla, even though she tried to hide it. But Arlene did it without any ill effects. Of course, she's reluctant for the Ship to begin training her. I need to get that underway. If the Ship says Arlene is the one, then we need to get that started. We've put it off long enough.

Jeff thought about his newfound ability and the beating the Escalade took. Since we returned from the hospital, there's an almost ... vacant spot in my brain. Even thinking about what I did makes that place in my head feel tired.

The ability – the part of your brain that produces it – is still exhausted,  the Ship responded. A few minutes in a Healing Chamber will refresh it, or time will also heal it. It is a fledgling ability. One that you need to ... exercise and use in order to fully develop it.

How am I supposed to do that? I didn't know I could do it at all until that first curve. "Shit," he said aloud, grabbing his head. "Just thinking about it has given me a headache."

Step into one of the chambers. I can restore you in a moment.

No,  the Prime thought back, shaking his head. If I'm going to learn to do this, I might as well do it on my own. If I can overcome the pain, I'll be on my way back.

Frustrated that the Prime would not allow her to heal him, some part of her realizing that it was his male ego refusing her help, she used his memories to assist her response. Imagine a sprained ankle. Your mind will need time to heal and recover, much as would that sprain. If you will not allow me to help you, let your mind rest, then begin as you would with the ankle – gentle use initially.

Those thoughts, as with all the rest, were what Jeff's mind interpreted from the massive intelligence that had somehow seen fit to make him her commander. Her thought processes, however, were not nearly as simple as speech, but instead, conveyed in-depth concepts that Jeff's mind interpreted into words. The exchange was much easier with the Ship than it was with Little One, but he seemed to literally become part of the Ship's brain as they communicated, at least while he was in the command couch. He could easily communicate with the Ship anywhere inside her, but the connection had much more depth and understanding while he was lying on, and mostly surrounded by, the command couch.

As Jeff started to rise from the couch, the Ship quickly went on, I cannot effectively protect you while I reside at the Base... 

But Jeff was shaking his head, even as he mentally responded, I have given my word to General Whitworth that you would remain at the Base in order for the scientists to study you.

But they are like (He received a mental picture of a creature he had never seen before) crawling around inside me. They irritate me. They are not unlike what I see in your mind as you remember the feeling of ants crawling on your body. I could better serve your needs if I remained here next to your home.

You are exposed here,  Jeff tried.

"Exposed" to what? None of the puny weapons on this primitive planet can penetrate my shields, and in addition, I am undetectable by your current technology unless I choose it to happen.

And what if the Base were attacked? You would not be there to protect them. And that is certainly much more likely since the portal is located there.

As you know, I could defend a direct attack on the base, but without a command from you or your designated second, I could not go on the offensive.

You will be here for a time as you train Arlene,  the Prime responded, mostly to appease the Ship.

-------

Sheriff Quinton Tate, his two older wives, Virginia and Elizabeth, along with his two nieces (now wives), Rachel and Cindy, rode home from the Retreat in near silence. Earlier, when he had arrived home after the shooting, he had been met with four crying women who seemed bent on hugging him to death. Now that the women had more time to think about the situation, panic had settled even deeper into their psyches.

When they began their evening rituals in preparation for bed, the women tried to do everything for their husband. Rachel and Cindy, being young, often wanted to aim his cock in the mornings as he stood before the commode, but tonight was different from anything he had ever experienced with them before.

He had been undressed by them – many times – but this was more. They acted almost as if he would break, and were anxious to do the most mundane things for him. Finally, when Rachel and Cindy followed him into the bathroom when he went to do his business, he'd had enough.

Kissing first Cindy, then Rachel – hard – he gently pushed them out the door. "I am not going to break or suddenly die on you," he said through the door as he locked it. "And ... I'm going to take a crap by myself. There are some things a man just does not do in front of his wives." He could hear giggling on the other side of the door, and decided that was a good sign.

But ... the over-attention continued as the family showered and readied for bed. They kept treating him as if this were his last day to live. After their shower, frustrated, Quinton picked up his nieces, putting one of the nude girls over either shoulder. After struggling through the bedroom door, he dropped them onto the big bed, watching their boobs bounce as the teenagers squealed.

Motioning for Elizabeth and Virginia, also nude, to sit near the bed, he pulled up a chair and sat as well. "Okay, let's talk this out. I'm not going to die, and..."

" ... But you could have died today," Elizabeth blurted out, barely holding back tears.

"My training..." he started before Virginia put in her comment.

"All of us have shot enough on the range to know that he could have jerked the weapon in your direction and fired. He would have had to move the barrel just inches to shoot you. No one could have reacted in time."

"But I could," Quinton quietly insisted. "My reflexes have always been better than anyone I've ever trained with – well, other than Jeff – and with Little One's enhancement, there was no way that McMasters could have fired at me before I could shoot him. I wasn't in as much danger as you four seem to think. I could have killed him at any time, but I was concerned that a flinch from him could have caused his weapon to fire. While I was contemplating my shot, Caitlin solved the problem for me. You can be assured that what's happened today will be reviewed in detail in our next hostage training session.

"While I was debating risking a medulla oblongata shot, Caitlin gave me the signal that she knew about the hostage drop. There will be some very impressed deputies – heck, there already are. Caitlin was cool, but pretended to be scared to death that he was going to shoot. What she said – and the way she said it – made her wording entirely plausible. He suspected something was happening – he obviously wasn't stupid – but he had no idea that we were timing my shot. And ... she dropped like a rock, just like she was supposed to. Before he could even begin to react, my bullet caught him."

Elizabeth, Rachel and Cindy frowned, but Virginia knew what he was talking about from his discussions during his sniper training.

"The medulla oblongata is at the base of the brain stem," she explained to her sister-wives. "When the bullet goes through it – destroys it – the body experiences instant quadriplegia. In other words, there is no jerk or time for the person to pull a trigger."

"Theory and practice are often quite different in real life situations," Quinton continued, "and we are talking about Caitlin's life here. But McMasters' mental state was fast deteriorating, and I was seriously considering risking the shot. Caitlin's intervention might very well have saved her life. If I had missed the 'apricot, ' as snipers call it, while Caitlin's head was still in the way of that asshole's bullet, he might well have jerked the trigger – with ... devastating results. But I still say that I wasn't in as much danger as you think I was. My reflexes, especially since Little One enhanced me, would have ensured that.

"I went for the apricot shot, anyway. When Caitlin dropped, McMasters was leaning forward as he was holding her, which changed the aspect of the shot considerably. I visualized where the oblongata should be and fired accordingly. I don't know whether I hit it or not, but the pistol fell to the floor still cocked. I'll talk to the coroner before she does the autopsy. It might be interesting if she will map out the bullet's track through the brain for me. In other words, tell me if I hit my target or not."

Cindy, her emotions overflowing, tears streaming down her face, launched herself at him. As she slammed into the sitting Alpha, her right breast crushed into his face. Not being an idiot, he took the nipple into his mouth, tongued the bud, then sucked it, letting go a rush of pheromones as he did so. The teenager hissed in a breath, then squirmed against him. A short period of time later, she leaned back her head and bawled out her pleasure as she shivered out a massive orgasm.

Rachel reached a slender hand between them to position his cock. Cindy smiled at her new husband as she rose up, then settled onto him, his cock slowly disappearing into her center. She took her bottom lip in her teeth as she moved her pussy in circles, the head of his cock resting against her cervix.

Quinton ducked his head to suck the other nipple into his mouth, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth, then sucking hard. She rose up partway, slammed back down, then changed to a back and forth motion that seemed to please her – immensely – if the sounds she was making was an indication. Elizabeth, now also standing by her daughter, kissed her on the forehead and whispered, "Fuck him, Baby. Fuck him really good."

If Cindy heard her mom, she gave no indication, but continued with her movements, the keening wail that seemed to be a trait of Alpha wives becoming louder and louder as she neared another orgasm. Tate clasped her ass with his big hands and thrust hard into his niece. He quickly picked up the speed of his measured thrusts, the sounds of his groin smacking into Cindy's becoming louder.

Cindy bucked wildly while trying to push the nipple deeper into his mouth. Quinton, near his first orgasm, sucked firmly while holding his cock hard up inside her. Cindy wiggled, thrashed and came, her scream making his ears hum. He gave her a few hard, short strokes, his cock throbbing inside the girl.

"Oh, Mom," she hissed out as Quinton's cock jerked inside her as it washed her cervix with semen. She rammed herself down on him, seeming to strive to push her cervix onto the head of his cock. After a few random bucks and a shiver, she was out, her body slumping forward against him with her arms limp against her sides.

"Wow," Elizabeth said as she helped to hold her daughter to keep her from falling over.

"Yeah," Quinton weakly said as Cindy's pussy continued to occasionally squeeze his cock when aftershocks rocked the mostly unconscious girl.

Elizabeth and Virginia helped to get Cindy off Quinton's cock, allowing a gush of sperm to pour out of her pussy. Rachel had already brought towels and washcloths. Quinton's come-covered cock was still standing proud as the two women took care of Cindy. Rachel smiled at her husband as she slid onto his lap, rose up, adjusted his cock and eased her pussy down onto him. "Oh," she quietly sighed as she felt his manhood spread its way into her depths. Then, "Fuck me, Uncle Q. Fuck me like you did my sister."

Quinton was glad to oblige.

THE RETREAT

Shortly after breakfast the next morning, the AI announced the arrival of the Carter family. After they were all inside the Retreat and Lillian had been introduced to everyone, Diana introduced her to the AI. The families shared coffee as Lillian became familiar with the Matthews, and Jeff brought up the subject of the mental block so that Lillian could start the process of becoming a full member of the clan.

"If Van, Adriana and Paulette think I should do this, then I suppose..." Lillian started a bit hesitantly as she looked around at the people she loved.

Adriana smiled at her friend. "It's the first step to a wonderful experience. We want you to do it."

Lillian smiled back at her, then with her resolve forming, "I'll do whatever you want me to if I can become Van's wife. What should I do?"

Jeff slipped his hands from under the table. "Say hello to a very dear friend of mine. No, she's more than that. I love her the way I do my wives. She's a part of our family. This is Little One. She's a sentient computer that is every bit as alive as we are. She has feelings, even ambitions, just as we do." Jeff delayed for a second, having been a little hesitant to introduce Little One as an alien, even though he had done so to others in the past. "Perhaps I should not have referred to her as a computer, for she is far beyond that. Let's just say she's a very intelligent AI with capabilities almost beyond what we can even imagine. Anyway, as soon as the blocks are installed, Little One will begin a process that we call enhancement ... You will be healthier than you have ever been in your life, and that is only the beginning."

"What are these ... blocks?" Lillian hesitantly asked.

"Something you will never feel unless you slip and start to let some of our secrets go."

Lillian frowned, then turned to Adriana. "That's what happened to you, isn't it?"

Adriana was nodding her head. "Yeah, I would have blurted out something that I shouldn't have, but I got a flash of nausea."

"These ... blocks caused that?"

"I suppose so. Whatever it was, I certainly wasn't going to continue with what I was going to say. It didn't really hurt me, though, it just ... made me feel nauseated for a moment."

"But surely you could have..."

"Trust me," Diana laughed. "You can't."

Jeff injected, "The more you push, the more the nausea ramps up. You'll quit before the nausea will, but if you don't try to reveal our secrets, there won't be any nausea."

Lillian, now more hesitant, asked, "But how do I know..."

Adriana broke in with, "Lil, we all love you. We would never do anything to hurt you. All I can tell you is the secrets need to be protected, and you'll love knowing them. You have to do this to become part of us. I'm sorry, but you'll have to."

Lillian locked eyes with Van, who smiled back at her. "It sounds crazy, but it's true," he said with a shrug. "I promise the rewards will be well worth the slight inconvenience."

"You tell me to do it and I will," Lillian said as she smiled at the man she loved.

"Take the blocks," he said without hesitation.

Lillian turned back to Jeff. "What do I do?"

-------

While the women were talking and Jeff was using the blocking equipment on Lillian, the puppies had gone exploring. In the big living room, they had walked as near to the fire screen in the fireplace as they dared. When a piece of wood popped, they scampered away, soon losing interest in the burning wood, other than to remember the heat, which their puppy minds noted as a good place to take a nap.

Billy had teleported into the hallway, bored, and had walked on, his mind on cat toys and his mistress, wondering if he might find her and entice her into playing with him. As he turned into the living room, he was already on the puppy's radar (their noses). Billy had smelled the puppies, of course, but his ability to smell was far short of the dogs' abilities. While he knew the puppies had come down the hall and maybe entered the living room, he had no idea they were still there, while the puppies, with their far keener sense of smell, knew exactly where Billy was at the moment. Because of their association with cats, it only took a glance at each other for the puppies' plan of action to form – an action they had carried out many times with cats and kittens at their previous home.

Sugar quickly dashed behind Jeff's recliner, while Spike chose a nearby chair for concealment, both puppies instantly going to stealth mode as they waited for their unsuspecting prey.

Billy noticed the puppies' trail of smell and half-heartedly followed it near the fireplace, but lost interest when the smell trails of the puppies merged, then crossed and recrossed as they had wandered away. After a moment, Billy did pick up one of the trails again, and decided to follow it, ambling toward Jeff's recliner. As Billy neared, the smell intensified. Just as he was wondering if the puppy might still be near, Spike pounced from behind, smearing Billy's face against the carpet, even as Sugar leapt into the fray from her hiding place.

During the first confrontation, Spike and Sugar had been playing, since they had frequently played with other pets they had lived with. Clawed noses and ears had changed that tactic. While they were not in full combat mode, they weren't entirely playing either.

Billy tried to spring free – again forgetting to concentrate to teleport – as teeth snapped entirely too close to his tail. "Phhisst. Phhisst. Phhisst," he hissed out while digging his claws into the carpet as he tried to accelerate away. But Spike was fast, too, and his teeth were sharp. As Billy, expecting to quickly outdistance the dogs, found out that Chihuahuas could run, too, he rounded another chair only to meet Sugar coming from the other direction – maxed out.

The crash happened just as Spike's teeth clamped down on Billy's tail, and for creatures of their size, the crash was titanic. Sugar hadn't planned her angle of approach down to a minutest bit – far from it. She hit Billy almost head on as he was looking over his shoulder at the teeth attached to his tail.

The explosion of the Chihuahua running head on into him was a total surprise, as it was to Spike, for Sugar, after smearing Billy, ricocheted off the kitten and into Spike, taking him out as well. Billy didn't even know what had happened, and Spike had little more knowledge than Billy did. Billy even forgot to spit out his indignation, and the three wound up in a tangled mass with Sugar's front lying on Billy's head, and Billy's nose practically in Spike's butt.

That was quickly alleviated as soon as the shock of the collision was over. Billy sprang to his feet – quickly even for an indignant cat – and teleported back to his mistress' bed, landing in the middle of it, still spitting.

The two puppies looked at each other. All right, Sugar thought with glee. The odd thing was that Spike heard her.



-------

Chapter 194

EARLIER IN THE MORNING AT QUINTON TATE'S HOME

After his morning shower, Quinton, dressed in his uniform and still buckling on his gun belt, walked into the kitchen. Before he could sit down, the phone rang.

"Quinton," he said, putting the instrument to his ear as he finished securing the belt with the keepers.

"Well, good morning. Are you planning to go somewhere on your little impromptu vacation?" his Captain asked, cheerily – a little too cheerily.

"What vacation?" Quinton joked back, just as it dawned on him his Captain might not be joking.

"Oh, come on, Boss. You've always said the rules apply equally to everybody. Two weeks off after an officer-involved shooting – mandatory with an offer of counseling, should the deputy want it. Wouldn't do for the Sheriff to ignore one of his own rules, now would it?" the Captain finished, barely suppressing a chuckle. "Seriously, Quinton, how are you doing?"

"Shit," Quinton quietly responded as he sank into his chair at the table. "You're not really going to do this to me, are you?"

His secretary, obviously having been listening on the line, chimed in with, "We've got it handled, Boss. I'll keep him in line." Both she and the Captain chuckled.

Tate made one last effort. "Look, I have lectures, meetings..."

" ... and I have your schedule. What we can't postpone, the Captain can take care of," his secretary said.

Tate let out a sigh of resignation as the Captain continued. "I've watched the videos a dozen times or more. When this is all over, I wouldn't be surprised if the video – with McMasters' and the nurse's faces blurred out, of course – will be used for training in every law enforcement agency in the nation. Hell, Quinton, you're going to be famous, like it or not."

"I definitely don't want that," Tate sighed, but he was afraid it would happen anyway. Officers' deaths that had been caught on video were frequently used in training for the way not to do things. This one would be used on how to do a hostage drop. He knew the video would probably save lives; he just didn't want to be in it, and he knew Caitlin wouldn't, either, blurred-out faces or not.

"So, back to my original question, where are you going on your vacation?"

"No plans, yet," he sighed as he sank down into his chair at the table. "Probably just relax with friends. You two and our families need to get together again. Maybe sometime in the next two weeks would be a good time to do that."

"Except, we'll be busy doing your job," the Captain said with a chuckle. "We'll get back to you. And Quinton..."

"Yeah?"

"Don't get uptight about this. It will take the review committee about two seconds to make a Justified ruling when they see the videos. The DA has already seen it and passed the same judgment. Enjoy your vacation. If you want that counseling..."

"Hell, no," Quinton interrupted.

" ... all you have to do is call. No shame in that, Quinton. You took a man's life. He needed killing, but we have the counselor on retainer, anyway. Might as well use him."

"I'll keep it in mind, but nurse Hughes was the one who had a gun to her head, not me. Seriously, I'm fine. You two, I appreciate what you're doing, and ... the thoughts. But remember, dammit, if something goes wrong, all you have to do is call..."

"We know, Quinton," the Captain interjected. "Take care, and tell your wife hello for me."

"Bye, Sheriff," his secretary finished just before she and the Captain hung up.

Tate pushed the Off button on the phone and put it on the table beside his plate. Looking up at his four, very interested wives, "I'm off for two weeks," he sighed, obviously not happy with the situation.

"You were off for two weeks when you shot that guy when you were a deputy," Virginia commented as she took his hand to encourage him to stand. Unsnapping his belt keepers, she unbuckled his gun belt and handed it to Elizabeth, who went to hang the belt and keepers in the bedroom.

"You already knew about this," he accused as he reseated himself, and his wife sat in his lap.

Virginia kissed him lightly on the lips, then looked him in the eye. "The Captain called last night while you were in the shower. He said he would call this morning to remind you not to come in. I told him what time we ate so he could call before you left for work. Quint, you have always said that rules have to apply equally..."

"I know. I know," he interrupted, "but I don't have to like it. I have a department to run..."

" ... and you have good people to run it in your absence," she finished for him. "We have another wedding to go to tonight, and your mates have all day to make love to our man. That starts with a big breakfast. After that, a blowjob, then we'll see how things go for the rest of the day," she said as his nieces began to put his food on the table.

-------

After searching, Hope and Arlene found their puppies in the living room near the fire, both little dogs sound asleep.

The girls stood smiling down at the animals a moment before Hope remarked, "They look so innocent. Aren't they sweet?"

Arlene leaned over to pick up Spike. "Yeah, they are. I was beginning to worry that they had gotten into something. Guess they found the fire and have been asleep the whole time."

As Hope reached for her puppy, "Taking them outside so frequently is a drag – not to mention it being a cold drag. I don't want to hurry their growing up, but..."

Arlene snuggled a still-sleepy Spike to her neck, cuddling him as he awakened fully and licked her cheek. "The book said they will still need to go out more often than large breeds, even when they're adults. Are you sorry you got a dog, particularly, a small breed?"

"Goodness, no," Hope quickly answered as she teased Sugar by blowing gently on her ear. "I'm just not used to this cold, and I'm not sure I'll ever be."

"It gets better," Arlene said as the girls started for the back door. "It doesn't bother me as much as it did at first, but Dave walks out wearing only a jacket while I'm freezing my butt off with a coat. Still, I'm more accustomed to it than I was." There was a moment's hesitation before she went on, "Of course, winter is just beginning. Evie says it will get a lot colder up here."

The girls put on their coats, then bundled the puppies into their sweaters. As they stepped out the back door, the wind buffeted them. "Does it always do that?" Hope asked.

As they put the dogs down on the frozen ground, Arlene pointed to the big wind generators higher up the mountain, and responded. "The wind makes us money every month. Dad has been thinking about putting in a couple more generators between here and the Sperman's property, but the terrain is almost inaccessible. He and Dave were discussing options about the installation the other night."

Hope didn't respond, and after a moment Arlene glanced over to see a troubled face. Before she could ask Hope what was wrong, the girl said, "It must cost a lot with everyone living up here. I guess..."

But Arlene's sharp mind filled in the blanks before Hope could finish the sentence. Grabbing her, Arlene hugged the frowning girl. "Don't even go there. I guess this is my fault. I should have told you a little about our finances, not that they would matter one bit. You're part of us – family. But ... if Daddy never worked another day as an engineer, never sold another invention, or never did anything to increase our income, we would have more money than all of us together, or separately, could ever spend in our lives. His radar is literally pouring in money, in addition to the amount he sold the patents for to begin with. And..." she giggled, "Laura, Ann, Helen and I have a software update just about finished for Dad's radar. Helen says it will bring in a considerable amount of money – probably millions. But we're waiting to release it until after all the original sales of the radar are over."

Arlene shook her head. "The truth is that even though Ann and I contributed, Laura and Helen did most of the work and all the really challenging programming. Laura is a genius when it comes to computers, and Helen is just a genius, period. We've kept the update a secret from Dad, but one day soon we'll surprise him."

"But ... you've contributed, and so have Helen, Laura and Ann. I've done nothing for you after all you have done for me. Art almost died for me, and Jeff and you guys came and got me. Gave me this beautiful place – this almost wonderland – to live in, with everything I could possibly wish for. Everybody is so concerned for me, and I can't do anything in return..."

And the tears started.

Crap,  Arlene thought, how could her father do that to her? She's as sharp as a tack, but has an inferiority complex a mile wide. Aloud, she began, "Look, Honey, you need..."

Hope choked back a sob and looked at her friend. "The only thing I can do is draw, and I need to get on with that. Art said he saw several more people that might be some type of supervisors with the slavers. I've put this off long enough. I need to find him as soon as we get back inside."

Both Spike and Sugar were trying to jump up the girls' legs to get off the frozen ground. They picked up the puppies and put them under their coats as the two turned back for the Retreat. "We need to get back inside before those tears freeze on your cheeks," Arlene kidded Hope. When the next icy gust of wind hit, she wasn't entirely sure she was kidding.

Inside the Retreat as they were hanging up their coats, "Have you seen Art since breakfast?" When Arlene shook her head, Hope turned down the hall, "I guess I'll see if he's in their suite."

The young Queen grabbed Hope's arm. "Uh, might want to call first. He and the nurses are on their honeymoon, remember? Unless I've misinterpreted the expressions on Bobby's and Sandra's faces, they had something planned for their husband after breakfast – something that doesn't require clothes to accomplish," she finished with a grin.

"Oops," Hope said. "All I need is to embarrass them, but I should..."

" ... relax," Arlene said as she took Hope's hand. "Look, you've already done something that none of us can do. That drawing of the slaver was as good as any picture of him could ever be. Art said it was perfect, and it was easy to tell that he was entirely serious, and very, very impressed. You don't have to prove yourself to us. We all love you and think you're a great person. We don't just think it; we know it. Now what did Mom say?" she finished with a lilt to her voice.

Hope chuckled. "She said I was fifteen and should act like it – to stop worrying about what happened in the past and to enjoy life, and ... to study my schoolwork," she finished with a grin.

"So, call their suite and let the phone ring a couple of times. If they don't answer, hang up and wait to talk to them at lunch. We all do that if we think we might be interrupting." As Hope turned again to leave, Arlene added, "Remember, we have a date in the game room tonight. You owe me a rematch."

"Bull. You let me win, and we both know it." She grinned and waved as she hurried off, but Arlene stood frowning.

Doggone it, Dad. You need to get off your butt,  she thought. She needs a husband to get her mind off the past and focused on the present. You and I are going to have a talk tonight – a husband and wife talk. If that doesn't do the trick, I'm going to drag out the big guns and get Mom involved.

-------

After the blocks were installed and the Healer had enhanced Lillian, Van and Adriana spent some time with Jeff and Diana as they began to bring Lillian up to date. Later, Adriana took her husband's hand. "Let's go for a walk. I need to discuss some things with you."

"Outside?" he asked.

But Adriana shook her head. "No, let's just find a place to be alone for a few minutes. We need to discuss our daughter."

Holding hands, husband and wife walked on down the hall, eventually winding up in an alcove overlooking the front of the Retreat and the top of the driveway. Although Adriana had made a few comments about the beauty of their surroundings as they walked, it was obvious to her husband that whatever she wanted to discuss was of major importance. She said she wanted to discuss our daughter, but we're here to marry Lillian. Women never seem to think linearly, so I know that Paulette isn't really the topic of this discussion. Adriana will start out with something about Paulette, then I'll find out what she really wants to talk about. I'll bet she's having second thoughts about me making love to another woman. That must be it.

As they finally sat, Van, worried, crossed his legs, leaned back and said, "Okay, what have I done?"

"Done?" his wife innocently asked.

Too innocently,  he thought. "Yeah, 'done, '" he quietly sighed. "We've been married too long for this. I know when I've stepped in it. I just don't know what I've done to get your panties in a bunch."

Adriana was hard put not to grin at him. "Do you trust me, Honey?"

That question sent chills down the husband's spine. Oh, boy. Here it comes. "Trust you?" he said as if he hadn't completely heard her, but he was actually trying to stall. What the crap does she want? We're going to marry Lillian. Adriana swears that's what they both want. They slept together in one of the spare bedrooms last night, so I'm sure they discussed things in detail. I agreed that we wouldn't do anything sexual until we were all married to each other. Is she pissed at me about the pheromones? What's this about Paulette? What... 

"Have you thought about our daughter?" Adriana said out of the blue, or at least it seemed that way to Van who was convinced that Paulette wasn't the real subject.

He tried to focus on what his wife had asked, but there was a big blank place in his mind that her question seemed to conjure up. Shit, what has Paulette got to do with this? We're here to talk about Lillian, aren't we?

"Uh..."

"You don't have a clue, do you?" his wife asked/told him with a sigh.

"Baby," he tried with desperation, "we've discussed this thing before. Men and women don't think the same way. Are you having second thoughts about Lillian?"

"Lillian?" Adriana asked with a frown. "Where did she come from? I told you we needed to talk about our daughter. We're going to marry Lillian in a few hours. That's a done deal."

But Van wasn't listening. "Look, Baby. Whatever the fuck I've done – or not done – it was unintentional. I..."

Adriana got up and plopped down in his lap, pushed her braless breasts against his chest and kissed him, knowing he needed a reset. "You big lug; I'm not mad at you – or anyone, for that matter. We just need to talk about our daughter, and I guess we both need to try and realize what she's feeling."

Van let out a sigh of resignation. "Look, Baby. I fell in love with my sister. We've both known for several years that Paulette has had a crush on her brother, and we've agreed to let them marry – well, marry the way the Matthews do it, like we're going to do it with Lillian later today. But Paulette won't even be fifteen until tomorrow. She needs to wait another year..."

Adriana was shaking her head, then leaned in to kiss her husband's cheek. "I suspect that she can't wait, not after Jeremy has been enhanced. Didn't he tell you about letting his pheromones go with his women just like you did with us?"

"Yeah, he did say that they were out of commission last night because of what they had done the night before, and ... yesterday morning, too."

"And he loves Paulette, also. We can all see that. Suppose he's leaked some of his pheromones when he's been around her lately, hmmm? Haven't you seen how our daughter's emotions have ramped up in the last couple of days? I think that both you and Jeremy haven't totally controlled your pheromones when you have been around the women you love. To be blunt, I think we're being cruel to Paulette by making her wait. Think about it. How hard is it for you to wait to have Lillian now that your pheromones are involved? How hard must it be for Paulette to wait for Jeremy now? Lillian can't take her eyes off you if you're near, and you have no idea how I'm having to fight the urge to pull your pants down right this instant. Think about what Paulette must be going through."

"But, I swear I'm not putting out any pheromones. I let them slip last night, but when I realized what was going on, I stopped. Surely, Jeremy hasn't let his pheromones go around Paulette."

Adriana grinned at him. "And just how would you know that, hmmm? He loves her. He could well have let some slip, no matter how unintentional. You did. Now, we both know I'm right. All you have to do is look at our daughter. Do you want her to suffer? And besides, the pheromones might not be necessary. Jeremy was enhanced a few days ago. That might well have been enough in itself to push Paulette into the near frenzy she's in now. She needs her man."

"Baby, I've seen the difference in her actions, but I just thought..."

"And speaking of difference," she interrupted, "what about the physical difference this morning? She's wearing one of my bras, you know. Her breasts are definitely larger today. Did you notice her face? No one would think she was just turning fifteen. What Jeff said about Little One is obviously true. Paulette is proof of it. She desperately wants to be sixteen; now she looks it, both her face and her body. I need to get her some new bras," she finished almost to herself.

After a slight hesitation to think, she went on, "If we can buy Aldridge's place, she'll just be next door. We won't lose our daughter. She'll always be close by. With all of us working the combined farms, she'll still be with us. Well, in the daytime, anyway. At night she'll be sleeping with her husband."

"And his other two wives," Van added, his voice sounding odd.

"Does it bother you that your son already has two wives, and will have three when he marries Paulette?"

"What?" he asked. "No. Why should it?"

"Jeff has fourteen," she said just for effect. "You will only have two, and that only after the wedding tonight. Won't you be just a wee bit jealous of your son?"

"No, I'm not going to be jealous of my son," he denied, holding back laughter. "I'm worried that I won't be able to keep up with the two beautiful women I'll have. That scares me. Three? I'll leave that worry up to him."

"So, we can tell Paulette that she can marry Jeremy, then?"

"Wha..." Van started, wondering how the conversation had reached that point, but before he totally stuck his foot in his mouth, he continued, "I'll leave that up to you. You know our daughter better than I do." No man can completely understand how a woman thinks,  he finished to himself, but deep down, he knew that Adriana was right.

"So, shall I send her to you for the good news?" Adriana asked, hugging her breasts to her husband again and giggling.

"No, I think it would be better if you told her," Van replied. "After all, it was you who initiated this conversation." And made the decision before we even discussed the topic,  he added to himself.

"And you, my dear Husband, are the Alpha. Any major decisions should come from you."

"And you, my dear Wife,  are my Queen, and her mother. The announcement should come from..."

" ... Jeremy," Adriana inserted before he could finish. "Her Alpha should do it."

"Shit," Van said as the full impact of their decision hit him. "There are a lot of things that have to come together, or our daughter is going to be in a situation. I don't want her living near Denver and being alone so much of the time. Ben did take our earnest money, but as you know, I told him he would have to get really reasonable on the price, or we would never be able to afford to buy his place. He wants us to be the ones to get it, though. He doesn't want some big company to wind up with it, so I think we have a good chance."

Van took a breath. "Let's change the subject for a moment. Now, in addition to the bridesmaid dress, we have wedding dresses to buy, and none of those things come cheap."

Adriana stood, then leaned back over to thoroughly kiss her husband again, amused to see that his eyes had tracked her swollen nipples. "Speaking of wedding dresses, it's time that Lillian and I disappeared. Wouldn't want you to see us in our dresses before we walk down that aisle, now would we? And ... my dear Husband, you can have all my milk you want tonight. You do still want me to be there when you make love to Lillian for the first time, don't you?"

"First time and every time," he quickly responded while tweaking her nipples through her top.

"Stop that," she scolded with a giggle as she pushed his hands away, "otherwise, I'll have milk all over my top."

"And the problem with that is?" he teased.

Adriana giggled again and started to leave, then turned back. "Don't you dare jerk off. I want to see Lillian's face when she feels you put a full load of come in her for the first time."

"Yes, Dear," he answered yet again.

-------

Arlene came down the hall toward Jeff, a bounce to her step, which translated into a jiggle and sway to her breasts. "Hey, Husband," she said in a teasing voice. "Your wives are going to be horny after watching the wedding tonight. You gonna be ready for us?"

He grabbed her and spun her around, pulling her back to him as he encircled her in his arms. "I'm always ready to make love to my wives. Question is, are you ready to begin your training? The Ship is waiting."

Arlene turned in his arms to face him, a frown creasing her forehead, but before she could answer, the Prime took her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. "No more excuses. It's time you got started with this. And no, it won't be easy. On the contrary, I can guarantee that it will be exhausting, but you have an excellent memory and a driving desire to excel at anything you do – and...  you're a Queen. The Ship is ready to begin your training."

"And you did this?" Arlene said, trying to keep the whine out of her voice, but not entirely succeeding.

"I spent much of the trip back from the mountain hangar immersed in the Ship's mind, and since we got there through the portal, the Ship took a while to find Earth. My training will probably never be totally complete, but yes, I have done this."

With a sigh, Arlene looked up at her father. "Dad, are you sure about this? I mean, really sure. Why me? I'm just a..."

But before she could say the word kid, he kissed her – hard, which caused her nipples to pop out, as he knew it would. "Kid?" he teased, pulling her top up to briefly kiss each nipple before again covering her breasts. "What kid? I see a young woman who is very capable. A young woman who is unusual. Unusual to the point of being one of a kind, perhaps."

"Ann is just as smart as I am," she quickly injected.

"Uhhh, that's debatable. There's a lot of difference in being book smart and being capable of Second in command of my starship. Ann is a very capable young lady, but she'll be the first to tell you that she could never make it as my Second. Want to debate that? Shall we call her?"

"No," Arlene said so quietly that even Jeff had a hard time hearing her. Then stronger, "I just think I'm too young. I'm not good enough, and I don't have any experience. What if I make mistakes? Mistakes could cost lives – lives of my loved ones..."

"And that's the crux of command, my Wife. Any commander who doesn't feel those things, who isn't concerned about his decisions ... well, you learn as you go. Books help, lessons help, exercises help, but nothing totally prepares a commander for his or her first battle. When the time comes, you'll do it. I know you will, and the Ship knows you're capable. Otherwise, she would never have asked me for you. And ... my loving wife, just in case you think I'm pushing you into this because you're mine, the exact opposite is true. I wouldn't wish this on you – ever, if I had the choice. But you're the one. I can see it, and the Ship can see it. One day, you will, too. This is your destiny."

Jeff had expected tears, or possibly more argument, but instead, she snuggled her head against his chest. "Fuck," she quietly said, "I'm only sixteen."

"And had you rather wait to start until you're a hundred?"

"Fuck," she mumbled quietly against his chest again.

-------

Lillian O'Donnel sat on the couch in the sitting room of a suite that was beyond anything she had ever experienced. The whole building – this place they called the Retreat – was luxury beyond her imagining. How can these people live like this and act so ... normal. They've made me feel special – me. I'm just a farm girl – a farm girl who has lost her husband and was in the process of losing her farm until Van and Adriana stepped in.

Adriana, sitting beside her and suspecting what Lillian was thinking about, reached over and took her friend's hand. "It's a bit much, huh?"

"'A bit much, '" Lillian repeated with a chuckle. "How can they ... I've never been around wealth like this. The best Ryan and I ever managed was a few days over the years in a nice hotel, with a very rare meal in a fancy restaurant – not that I ever wanted more," she quickly added. "We were very happy, as you know. But now I have Van ... and my best friend in the whole world as my soon-to-be sister-wife. That's what Diana said we would be – right?"

When Adriana nodded and smiled, Lillian went on, and for the fifth time, asked, "Are you sure about this. I mean, well, we talked about this half the night, but it's almost here now. The wedding is scheduled for sundown – just a few hours away. My wedding dress – our wedding dresses are beautiful. How can that dress shop make dresses so quickly? And they fit like a glove. They just put the dress on me and stood me on that little pedestal so they could examine everything about the way the dress looked on me. I couldn't find a single thing wrong. Oh, Adriana. How much is it going to cost? They claimed they didn't know, but I know they do. When I asked Diana, she just said it was handled and it didn't cost nearly as much as I thought."

Adriana squeezed her hand. "She told me the same thing. I cornered her in the hall and did my best to get a figure out of her, but she just kissed me on the cheek, laughed and walked off, saying something about my husband being an Alpha and we were now all family."

"But I've never taken charity ... well until you and Van paid my loan up to date."

"Not the same thing," Adriana quickly broke in. "Van paying his wife's bills isn't charity. Besides, you've already said that you have no problem combining your farm with ours."

Lillian couldn't help it. The thought of becoming Van's wife was almost more than she could think about. She put a shaking hand to her mouth. "Oh, Adriana, how could this be happening – and so quickly?"

"Don't you want to marry him – have him make love to you?" Adriana teased.

Lillian leaned her head on the back of the couch and stared up at the ceiling. Even it is beautiful,  she thought. Then, "I've never wanted anything as much in my life. And I've never felt closer to you, either. I keep thinking about the things we talked about last night, but after Jeff, or more precisely, that little ... alien did whatever it did to me, I feel ... Oh, heck, there aren't words to describe how I feel. Like I did when I was sixteen and Ryan kissed me for the first time, maybe. I have so much energy I think I could do hand stands. I want to kiss Van. I want to hug him. I want to fuck him. I want to grab his hand and run naked through the snow with him. If you feel as good as I do, we'll screw him to death tonight."

Adriana threw her head back on the couch beside Lillian, laughing, feeling like a teenager again. "I don't think there's a chance of that. He's always been a great lover, and since he's been enhanced, even his touch sets me on fire." Adriana's expression changed, and her voice took on a more serious air. "I don't know what we're going to do with poor Paulette when we get home. I can not keep my mouth shut when Van pushes that wonderful cock of his up me, now that we've been enhanced, and our bedroom certainly isn't sound insulated the way these are here. And with both you and me to 'sing' his praises," she giggled, "we're going to embarrass the girl to death."

"That thing really works then, doesn't it? The Healer I mean. It's one thing to hear Jeff and Diana talk about good health, and the way our bodies and minds are supposed to work, but now that it's happening, it..."

Adriana smiled over at Lillian. "Di says we'll live a long time – a very long time."

"But I feel ... I don't know. I guess I've never felt this good in my life. And ... I'm so horny I could scream. Don't you dare back out on me now," Lillian admonished, but both women were laughing. Laughing just because they felt so good and they couldn't seem to express it another way.

"And..." Adriana said with a sexy chuckle, "you haven't even seen the Ship yet. Well, I guess I really haven't seen her yet, either, other than some of the inside, since she's invisible. An invisible starship sitting in what is essentially their back yard. Now, not just everyone has that."

Lillian suddenly sobered. "What about all those people who know Jeff. He said his, uh, team and the Security force that protects him and his family will be at the wedding. I don't know any of them, obviously."

Adriana sat up and turned to face Lillian. "Van tried to get Jeff to not invite all of them, but Jeff just laughed and said that those people would be disappointed if they were not included. He said they would also enjoy the food, and the men would get a chance to look at all the beautiful women. He also said that another of his Alphas, the guy who built this place, would be watching with some type of video hookup, and that all his Alphas would either be here or watching. Diana and Jeff have both told me that we're part of the Matthews clan now, and always will be. They're very definite about that, and I'm beginning to think that has a deeper meaning than I first realized."

"A starship," Lillian said as if testing how the word sounded. "Do you suppose he would take us for a ride?"



-------

Chapter 195

"Daddy," Arlene said to her father as she entered his lab office in the basement, "I have a couple of hours before I have to get dressed for the wedding. Could we start my training now?"

The Prime got up, walked around his desk and took his daughter's face in his hands, kissing her firmly. "Now's a perfect time. Let's go talk to the Ship."

As they came to the door of the inside garage, Arlene reached for a coat, but Jeff stayed her hand. "It takes only a couple minutes to jog to the Ship. You can ignore the cold that long."

"You can, but I can't," she responded, "but I suppose I won't freeze."

As they stepped out into the cold, "Tell yourself that you're warm, then focus on something else other than the cold."

As Jeff led off, Arlene tried, and it may have helped a little, but she was shivering when she stepped through the hatch into the Ship a couple of minutes later. Admittedly she wasn't sure the shiver was from cold or worry of the unknown she was about to face.

After a walk down the corridor to the bridge, the two reclined into the command couches, but Jeff's couch didn't cocoon around him.

"Daddy, will you stay with me?" Arlene asked, trying to speak in a voice that didn't reveal fear.

She needs to do this without you,  the Ship projected to her commander.

"Uh, Baby, the Ship would rather you do this alone."

"But how does she teach?" Arlene queried, sitting erect.

"Well, to start with, she uses a very realistic sim..."

Prime, I had rather you not describe my training methods,  the Ship interrupted.

"Uh, Baby, let's just let her explain things," he said as he felt the couch pushing against him. Standing, he kissed his daughter/wife and walked off the bridge.

She will be fine, my Prime,  the Ship assured him.

I don't totally agree with you,  he thought to the Ship. In addition to being my wife, she's my little girl. I can't forget that. I don't want her hurt.

You know my training methods. Are you forbidding me them?

Jeff stood for a moment. Then, No ... No. But just keep in mind that she's barely past being a child. Her experiences are limited, and she's only been in combat once, and you know the result of that. And... 

 ... she has the heart of a warrior, and the ability to command,  the Ship finished for him, although that wasn't what he had been going to say. I'll return her intact – stinging perhaps, but intact.

Forcing back his worry, the Prime left the Ship.

-------

Arlene lay back in the second command couch, her body relaxed in a partial sitting position as if she were propped against pillows, reading in bed. Her position, however comfortable, hardly touched her awareness, though, as her mind swirled into the mass of intelligence that seemed to surround her. Although she had sat on the couch before, this time, she allowed herself to mesh more fully with the massive intelligence.

Thoughts swirled around her, through her – became part of her, and she part of the all-encompassing mind about her. Thoughts, feelings, scenes – all alien – swirled about her, combined with her. She saw the immensity of space surrounding her – felt it, embraced it, saw suns explode, observed planets spiral into the corona of their stars to be consumed there, witnessed weapons fired into worlds teaming with life, the worlds turning black, then exploding to snuff out all living things on the planets. And then her body spiraled into what she understood must be the dimensions. Space itself warped, morphed into something else. Feelings became tastes, tastes became sights – and she was somewhere alien...

-------

Just under the speed of light, the mother-ship, in full stealth mode, dropped two probes and a scout ship. The probes were commanded by AI's, the scout by a physical being. The probes' trajectories gradually separated from the scout as all three drifted toward the only viable planet in the star system.

The probes and scout were armed, but the main weapon of each was stealth. Emissions of any type, drive signatures, heat – everything that could be controlled and dampened, was. Although all three tiny vessels were equipped with inertialess drives, they were locked off. One downside to the drive was a flare of energies when it was initialized. That drive flare from the mother-ship under full power could be picked up instantly by sensitive equipment out to roughly a quarter parsec. The inertialess drives of the scout and probes wouldn't register until much closer, but within the system, would still scream out a warning to sensitive equipment.

Even though the small ships of the tiny squadron drifted inward with their stealth equipment fully functional, their systems fully shielded, they still maintained near absolute zero inside, lest even a stray source of heat alert the enemy. The only thing keeping the biological being alive was the skinsuit it wore – comfort was not a mainstay of the suit.

As the three neared the planet, they continued to slow, one probe entering atmosphere near the south pole of the planet, the other in a desert area on the opposite side of the world from the base that all three would eventually approach. The scout settled into a crevice in the deep snow near the north pole.

There had been no communication between the three after leaving the mother-ship. Now the biological being waited, all sensors scanning for signs that any of the three had been discovered – nothing. After a predetermined amount of time spent searching for evidence that any of them had been detected, the pilot slowly brought the scout out of the crevice. Someone only a few feet away would never have noticed the small ship. At this point, the little ship was invisible to any sensors yet devised, but now it would have to move and use energies that left a signature – slight, but the signature was there.

With a brush of the pilot's thoughts on the controls, the being turned the ship toward the massive base, gentling the scout's acceleration as the pilot remained hyper alert. All three were operating under time restraints. The pilot must have the information and beam it to a specific place at a designated time as the mother-ship snapped into existence a third of a parsec away. Whether the information was there or not, the ship would dimension out after a three second wait, the ship and what it contained too valuable to risk in a one-sided fight that would end in the mother-ship's certain destruction.

The mother-ship's several AI's gave this mission an eight-percent chance of success, with a slightly lower chance of the pilot's survival, but considering the lives – worlds – that could be saved with this venture, the mother-ship's commander had asked for volunteers. Naturally, every pilot there instantly volunteered. The commander and his staff considered the applicants and chose the best of the best. Unfortunately, that still left eleven pilots. The commander chose the final one by using a small lottery.

The pilot had used the scout's AI for approach to the planet and entry into atmosphere, but since leaving the crevice, the pilot had personally taken over the controls. AI's were faster than physical beings, smarter even, but in combat, they tended to think linearly, and oftentimes, could be anticipated. Now was not a time for linear – now was the time to think outside that infamous box.

The pilot passed over the snowy landscape, the temperature of the little ship exactly matching its surroundings. No air stirred when it passed – nothing marked its passage. Even in the frozen north, the pilot used the terrain as much as possible to conceal the scout, but there was a schedule to maintain. When the ship reached warmer surroundings, the piloting became more difficult. Even the brushing of a limb of vegetation might be noticed.

The pilot had by now been fully awake and active for many hours. With a mental touch, a stimulant brought instant wakefulness at the expense of energy that the pilot's body would have to pay back later – if there was a later.

Time drifted onward as the pilot sought out a route through the sensor net, striving to carve out a passage where the net was at its lowest intensity. Nerve wracking, constant choices drained the pilot's energy, made the pilot's mind numb from overuse and decisions that could mean instant death. Another mental touch and the stimulant again surged through the pilot's system.

Finally, the scout neared the base. Here, the sensor arrays seemed to overlap each other – the approach almost insurmountable without being detected. Struggling, the pilot eased the small craft forward. The pilot's sensors registered a surge of energy as a large weapon pod blinked to a stop, the unit using its inertialess drive. What made the pilot cringe was the stop was almost directly above the scout.

The pod sat there for a time, then in the distance, another pod fired its weapons. The base came to full alert, every sensor scanning at full potential. The pod above almost instantly fired a bracketing salvo in the same direction the first pod fired, and the salvo seemed to go on and on. There was an explosion a kilometer away and the pod above the scout flashed away, presumably to the area where the explosion occurred. The pilot knew that one of the AI's had met its doom.

A few seconds later, another weapons pod flashed to a stop not far from the scout. Reason dictated that the pilot lie quiet and wait – any movement, any system going on-line, could mean an instantaneous barrage of fire, but time was running out. A strong wind gusted from time to time. Without fully thinking it through, the pilot released the systems that kept the little ship anchored to its area a few feet from the ground.

The wind gusted again and the scout began to drift directly toward the weapons pod. A few minutes later, the pilot again anchored the scout at almost ground level a few meters below the pod. But the pilot had chosen the position for more than concealment. The new position was almost directly over a communications node. Of the two combatants in this war, the pilot's race had a distinct advantage in some areas of technology. Their latest advances were a very jealously guarded secret that they hoped their enemies would never learn about. The enemy didn't realize how vulnerable their communications systems were under certain conditions – those conditions had just been met when the scout settled within meters of the communication node.

The little ship's AI pounced on the energies of the node, working its way into the system within seconds, drinking of the contents. Since this was the enemy's main base, most of its operating strategies now lay within the reach of the AI: locations of commands, locations of the main battle armadas, the enemy's overall plan of coming actions, general and specific logic for the battle AI's for the bases and the fighting ships, the location of repair facilities, the supply routes and planets where the supplies were stored – the information went on and on.

The pilot fought fatigue as time passed and the storage crystals took in data that was beyond value. Another stimulus added to the others, far beyond the danger levels now, but some things were worth more than a mere pilot's life. Still the information came in – as time neared for a decision.

Finally, the AI had drained all the information it could, and the pilot sat thinking. But thinking did no good. There could only be one result if the information was delivered on time – on time, or not delivered at all. If the information wasn't transmitted at the precise instant, the mother-ship would be gone and all the information that could save the pilot's race would be lost forever.

The AI had plotted their course and the pilot had checked it again for the tenth time. Everything was in readiness. The time arrived. Arlene mentally slid the drive block aside, her mental finger poised over the button that would initiate the inertialess drive, would slam the little ship away from the planet at an acceleration that, without the drive, would have turned her body to liquid and spread it across the bulkheads, if ... even they could have withstood the acceleration. With a mental sigh, she stabbed her mental finger at the button. Titanic energies awoke, their awaking screaming out a drive signature that could be detected all over the planet's system and beyond.

The little ship clawed for space, the hounds of hell awakening as the base's weapons tracked. A virtual storm of weapon fire tracked the little ship, seeking the fragile scout, its shields down, every erg of energy channeled to the engines. The scout reached the point where it could transmit past the jamming of the base. It pulsed its highly compressed data – twice, and was starting a third time when the energies caught up with it.

Many of the base's ships and weapon pods were in the line of fire from the base, and ceased to exist as the energies crashed through them. The little scout was no exception. Arlene felt her body explode in the wash of titanic force, but her last thought was that she had taken a major step in saving her race.

And... 

The young Queen awoke writhing in the second seat, her body seeming to be awash in liquid fire. The cocoon released her as the pain swiftly went away – well, except for a slight burning in her right hip. She sat for a time without even thinking.

Finally, she stumbled to her feet, left the bridge and walked down the passageway – tentatively at first, but each step seemed to change that. By the time she reached the area of the hatch, her attitude had changed considerably.

"You," she snapped as she saw her husband sitting there, obviously waiting for her. "You knew," she accused. "You knew!" she snarled out as she stopped before him, her hands on her hips. "You could have warned me..."

"I started to tell you, but the Ship asked me not to," he tried to defend himself. "Uh, we need to get back to the Retreat so you can get dressed for the wedding," he added, hoping to distract her temper a little.

Arlene's flushed face took on a questioning look. "Wedding. What wedding?"

"Uh, Lillian's. Van, Adriana and Lillian's of course."

Arlene's face took on a deep frown. "But ... they were married months ago, or should have been. What happened to delay them?"

Jeff let out a sigh and patted the seat beside him. "Uh, why don't you sit down beside me here and we'll talk about some things."

"I'm not in the mood to sit," Arlene said, barely holding back a snarl.

"Uh, okay. Look, Baby, I started to tell you but ... Anyway, you've only been in the ... simulator for a couple of hours..."

"That's bullshit," Arlene interrupted. "It took me weeks just to learn how to fly that stupid trainer. I spent longer than that going over data for the mission, then I still had to learn the scout's systems and go through simulated missions. I was gone months, and ... I'm still having problems realizing I'm alive. There is no friggin' way I've only been gone just two hours. I..." and the tears of frustration came.

Suddenly, with a dawning comprehension, she glared at him. "You flew that same mission, didn't you? And ... you probably survived," she accused. Further comprehension dawned as she studied his stoic expression. "You did survive." Then seizing the opportunity as he stood, she slammed the palms of her hands into his rock-hard chest. "You did. You survived. Nobody could survive that mission – nobody. Yet you did, didn't you?" she said, spacing out and emphasizing the words, her frustration raging. "How can you do something like that? It's just not possible."

"Baby," he whispered as he took her into his arms. "I didn't want this, but the Ship will only accept a Queen – one of my Queens as my second. I tried to suggest my team Lieutenant, but that fell flat almost before I could suggest it. Diana is the clan Queen, so the Ship wouldn't accept her, and your grandmother doesn't have the right mindset..."

"So, you're stuck with me," the young Queen said in an unfathomable voice. "But what if I become a bitch, abuse my authority, make people miserable?"

Jeff leaned over and kissed her hard, which may or may not have been the thing to do at the time. His daughter made a noise deep in her throat, a noise that might well have been interpreted as a growl. She locked her hands around his neck and pulled herself to him, rubbing her body against his.

Before Jeff could read her intentions, she loosed his belt and jerked down his pants.

"Baby, I think..." He was going to say something about her needing to get dressed for the wedding, but her hand had snaked into his shorts and grasped his cock with a grip that got his full attention. Before he knew it, she had pushed him back against the long seat he had been sitting on, the Ship widening and softening the seat without either of the two humans realizing it.

His shoes, pants and shorts were gone in little more than a blink and she was equally nude from the waist down, with her top pushed above her breasts. Without preamble, she straddled him, lined his cock up with her entrance and dropped. He knew it hurt her – knew it had to have hurt her – as his dick slammed her pussy open and came to rest hard against her womb.

She screamed out in pain and ecstasy, her orgasm consuming her as she writhed on his cock, squirming her clit against his groin, her breasts already squirting milk on his shirt. "Oh, shit, " he hissed out as he grabbed her hips, partially to keep her from hurting herself further, and also to keep her from detaching his dick from his body.

Diana has overdone it with those exercises she insists my wives do with the small dildo,  he thought as Arlene's pussy contractions clamped his cock so tightly he couldn't move inside her. If she had squeezed any tighter, he would have tried to get away from her. Even as he was thinking those thoughts, her shivering diminished as she passed out, collapsing onto his chest.

Frustrated, Well, crap. I guess I'm almost as excited as she is, and passed out or not, her continuing contractions are driving me crazy. His conscience warred with him, but he pushed the guilty feeling aside for fucking an unconscious woman and began to thrust upward into her. The movements of his cock inside her apparently awakened her enough for his daughter to orgasm again as he pumped his seed into her womb.

Laying there in post-orgasmic bliss, he smiled as her pussy fluttered around his cock. After a time, Arlene's breathing changed and he knew she was with him again.

"Was that some type of grudge fuck?" he whispered into her ear.

A soft giggle rewarded him, and she nipped his neck. Rather than answer, she said, instead, "You filled me up."

"You almost tore my dick off," he returned.

She sat up, propping a hand on his chest to support herself. "I think I wrecked my pussy."

"Should I have Little One..."

"No," his daughter quickly interjected. "I liked it, and this will help me remember. Besides, I need something to distract me, otherwise I'll think about why I should be mad at you."

"Baby, I..."

She leaned forward, her mouth almost touching his. "Hush. I know why, but that doesn't make me like it." After a second, she went on, "You sure the wedding hasn't..."

"You've been in here for a little under two hours. You have plenty of time to dress and get ready for the wedding."

"Shit," she said, standing, her pussy letting go a deluge of come. "I hope everyone isn't mad at me for not helping get the living room set up."

When they were again clothed, "I brought your coat," Jeff offered as he handed it to her.

As they neared the hatch, I told you she had the heart of a warrior,  the Ship said in the Prime's mind.

Shortly, husband and wife stepped through the hatch, their arms around each other, the come disappearing from her panties as they passed through the fields, but the smile remained plastered to her face.

-------

Van and Jeremy drove back up the mountain, the two returning from Denver after picking up a pair of shoes for Van to wear for the wedding. Truth be told, Van had insisted on the trip as much to be with his son – man to man – and to get away from the preparations that had his nerves on edge, as he did to get the new shoes. He had repeatedly told himself that this was no big deal, that he had known Lillian for years, but logic and feelings were quite different.

I'm nervous as a new bride, he told himself, then inwardly chuckled at the thought. Well, I guess I should change that to, I'm nervous as a new groom.

Jeremy, driving, glanced over at his father. "Dad, you can't be uptight about this. What's the problem? Are you worried about buying Mr. Aldridge's place?"

Van started to fib, but thought better of it. "Well, I am a little concerned that things will be tight for the next few years. If something goes wrong ... But, well ... I didn't expect this, but I guess you could say I'm uptight about marrying Lillian. I just can't believe that Adriana would sanction this, let alone initiate it herself. A wife just doesn't invite another woman in to share her husband – at least I've never heard of it."

Jeremy was nodding his head. "Yeah, I can see your point, but I guess things are different with Alphas. At least that's what Diana told us. It's hard to think that I'm different. I certainly didn't think so before Little One enhanced me, but if nothing else, the ability to release pheromones has gone a long way toward making a believer out of me."

Van stifled a grin. "Yeah, that's going to take a while to get used to. I don't think I have balls enough to release my pheromones tonight. Those two might just fuck me to death. You should have seen the look on their faces."

Jeremy let out a chuckle. "Preaching to the choir, Dad. Remember? I'm still a little sore from night before last. But now I'll pay more attention to what Jeff said about releasing only a small amount of my pheromones. I just got excited and let things get out of hand. Kinda tickles me to think about my mom and dad fucking like rabbits, though," he finished with a grin.

They rode in silence for a couple of minutes when Van cleared his throat, "Got any advice for your old man about dealing with two wives?" he asked, his tone joking, but both men knew he wasn't.

"Yeah," Jeremy laughed. "Ask Jeff and Diana. Otherwise, I haven't a clue."

-------

Dave with his twelve string and Evie with her six string, their guitars hooked into the sound system, accompanied Helen on the piano. Everyone stood and turned to look toward the winding steps in the back of the living room as the first bars of the Bridal March blasted out.

Adriana and Lillian stepped out on the landing, poising momentarily to look down at the tall man waiting for them. "I'm scared spitless," Lillian whispered to her soon-to-be sister-wife.

"And you think I'm not?" Adriana whispered back as she took Lillian's hand.

"He's already your husband," Lillian whispered. "You've been with him over twenty years, but I don't think I'm good enough for him. What does he see in me? What do you see in me?"

Adriana, realizing how upset Lillian was, squeezed her hand. "We see a wonderful lover and mate who we will love forever, just as she will us." Then with a giggle, "Now, let's go stand beside our man so we can all be married and we can take him to bed. As soon as you realize you're his wife, you'll calm down."

Adriana tugged gently on her friend's hand, encouraging her to take the first step with her. "Time to get this show on the road," she said with a grin.



-------

Chapter 196


With mixed emotions, Paulette watched her father take first Adriana into the honeymoon suite, then a moment later, return to pick Lillian up and cross the threshold with her in his arms.

"Penny for your thoughts, Little Sister?" Jeremy teased as he put his arm around Paulette.

Paulette's mind returned to the world around her as she was first hugged by her brother, then Connie and Denise.

"Was I that noticeable?" the teenager quietly asked as she glanced around somewhat guiltily, but none of the other people there seemed to be paying any attention to her.

"Who cares?" Jeremy responded as he leaned in to gently kiss her on the lips, then to encircle her in his arms when he noticed the sparkle of tears in her eyes.

In a quiet, but choked voice, Paulette whispered into his ear, "I'll be fifteen tomorrow. I have another whole year to wait. I'll go crazy. Since you ... I don't know. Since things have happened," she stumbled out. "Since Little One enhanced us ... it seems much harder to wait – much harder. I guess you guys marrying, then Dad and Lillian..." She stopped for a second. "I'm confused." Then with a rush, "I just can't get you off my mind. I need you so bad," she whimpered before sucking in a breath and hugging him tight, her body trembling.

Connie and Denise glanced at each other, then Connie reached to grab Paulette's hand. "Come on. I think we need some girl talk."

Denise turned to Jeremy, pulled his head down and kissed him. "Help with the cleanup, Honey, or talk to Jeff, or something. We'll see you in a little while." Turning, she hurried to catch up to Connie and Paulette, who were already walking toward Paulette's suite.

-------

Jeremy helped Jeff, but with all of Jeff's team, Security, and the other Alphas, it took only a short while to store the wedding decorations, run the vacuums and put the furniture back in place.

The women were still putting up the food and dishes from the reception. Quinton, Art, Dave and Fred had gathered near the fire to talk and drink coffee and soft drinks, but Jeff had not yet joined them. Putting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder, the Prime quietly asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jeremy's focus came back to the present. "Uh..."

"Why don't we get a cup of coffee and go sit in my office?" It wasn't a question. "It will be quiet there," the Prime added.

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I didn't mean to be so obvious. But ... I guess I do need to talk to someone, although I can't see a solution to my problem."

The two took mugs from the serving cart and Jeff poured for the two men. "Can't ever tell. Sometimes, just talking through a problem helps."

A few minutes later, they sat in comfortable seats in Jeff's business office just down the hall from the Matthews' suite, but Jeremy seemed reluctant to get to the subject. Finally, when they had worn out casual topics, Jeff crossed his legs, leaned back and looked at the young Alpha. "I suppose that Van told you he talked to me a short while ago about a loan for the adjacent farm? Incidentally, he has also told me that I could speak freely with you about any subject involving him or his women."

"Jeff, we don't have any secrets from you, either. And yeah, he told me he called Mr. Aldridge and offered him his full asking price. I was wondering about that. I'm sure we could have talked him down some."

"No need," Jeff inserted. "Van said the price was reasonable, but like you, said he could probably talk Aldridge down a bit. But ... if the price is reasonable for the property, it seems a little ... Well, there was no need. This sale is probably Aldridge's retirement. No use to cheat him out of part of that, just because we could."

"We'll get you paid back, but Dad is a little hesitant about the first couple of years..."

"Stop," the Prime said. "You – all of you – don't seem to understand. When I welcomed all of you to the family, it wasn't just a civility. I was dead serious. You are part of my family. My family of Alphas, if you will. And I even suspect there's some actual biological links somewhere over the ages. Whether there is or not, you and your father are Alphas. Your women become part of you when you mate with them. Family stands together – helps one another.

"If I'm to believe that I'm a Prime, then I have to take the responsibility that goes with the position. I didn't ask for this, but somehow, I've been given gifts that others have not received. I'm no better than anyone else – far from it. But ... it looks like I'm head of the clan, whether I like it or not. I think you've realized that you truly are an Alpha – one of us. If you stop and think about it, family is really the only term that fits.

"Somehow, I've been given more money than I could ever imagine having. And ... it seems as if the more of it I give away, the more money I somehow make. I have shared that wealth, to some small degree, with my Alphas, and will continue to do so. And I must admit," he said with a grin, "that you're a group of people that's damn hard to share it with. I've had to fudge the truth to get any of you to take anything from me, but look at it from my point of view. I have family who needs money, and I have it practically running out of my ears. What would you do in my shoes, hmmm? In other words, the chance of me taking any of that money back that I've agreed to loan your Dad is zero to none."

At Jeremy's shocked expression, the Prime went on, "Now, I expect you to keep this little conversation quiet, at least until the property deal goes through. But somewhere along in there, I need to let Van know that he doesn't have to worry about paying the money back. I want my Alphas to prosper. I want us to become a close-knit family. If I can help that along by the use of a little money to ease things a bit, then so be it.

"Like I asked Van, just please, let my accountant get involved. He has already saved me a substantial amount of money, and he has people who are familiar with farms and ranches, at least as far as the money side of the operation is concerned."

"Shit, Jeff ... I didn't expect..." Jeremy just sat and stared at the person he was beginning to believe was truly a Prime, or at least was different – he wasn't even certain he knew what a Prime was. Hell,  he thought, I don't really know what an Alpha is, but after Little One, I feel different, and it's more than just being healthy. He thought for a second, then, My wives seem to have already accepted this, but... 

"So, what did you really come in here to talk about?" Jeff asked as he again watched the emotions chase each other across Jeremy's face.

Jeremy drained the last of his coffee and put the cup down on the table in front of him. Then with a sigh, "I have a problem."

Jeff just raised an eyebrow and looked at the younger man.

"I think I've fucked up," Jeremy quietly said.

"Something we all tend to do from time to time," the Prime joked.

But Jeremy went on without acknowledging Jeff's comment. "My sister is acting ... funny."

Jeff just continued to look at him.

Then in a rush, "I guess I've loved her all her life. There's always been a ... bond between us. Even when she was just a tiny baby, Mom would call me to come and calm her. Paulette could be crying like crazy, and when I picked her up, she would stop, almost instantly – every time. When she got big enough, she would come into my room in the middle of the night and crawl into bed with me. I was about nine or ten, I guess, and she was three the first time she did it. I didn't even know she was there until Mom came tearing into my room one morning screaming that she couldn't find Paulette. When I sat up, Paulette made a noise and sat up beside me, rubbing her eyes. I thought Mom was going to have a stroke when she saw my sister, but I think it was mostly relief that Paulette hadn't been kidnapped or something."

Jeremy sat silent for a couple of minutes, and Jeff just waited, before Jeremy went on. "It continued for several years until I became a teenager. Mom sat her down and had a talk with her. Paulette, of course, later told me everything Mom said, but basically, Mom just tried to explain that teenage boys needed to be alone in their bedrooms. Paulette didn't really understand at first, but several years later, she understood and teased me about needing to be alone so I could... 'jerk off.' Can you say, embarrassed? Not only was my little sister talking to me about my masturbating, but my mother knew."

Jeff was chuckling. "I don't even have to imagine," he said as the chuckle became laughter. Then after a moment, "I can say, been there, done that, except mine was probably worse. My mother marched into my bedroom with a roll of toilet tissue, put it down on my bedside table, and told me to please quit using her nice washcloths and use the tissue, instead. I thought I was being sneaky, because after using the cloth a few times, I always put it in the dirty clothes hamper with the others. After a while, I think I figured out how she knew. The cloths were white, and I must have been leaving a stain on them. Whatever it was, I sure didn't have the gumption to ask her. That roll of toilet tissue sat there unused while I jerked off in the shower, or out in the garage. Eventually, I got another roll of tissue for my, uh, personal use, and hid it in a shoebox in my closet. I think the roll on the table was still there when I moved out to marry Diana," he finished with a chuckle.

After the laughter, the men sat until the silence became uncomfortable. Jeff stood and walked over to the small refrigerator in the corner. "Want a soft drink?"

"Yeah, anything."

Jeff pulled out a couple of drinks and tossed Jeremy one. Reseating himself, he unscrewed the top, took a sip and waited.

Jeremy made his decision. "Could you tell me about pheromones? I mean, other than the brief outline you talked to me about."

Jeff took another sip of his drink, then, "Well, that 'brief outline' I gave you was a good portion of my knowledge on the subject. But, I'll tell you what I know, and to be truthful, it's damn little." After a moment of contemplation, "I guess it started at a restaurant in Winter Park. I was, uh, discreetly – I thought – enjoying viewing some very nice looking females when the waitress started coming on to me, and I mean, really coming on to me. To make a long story a little shorter, Diana eventually decided that I was producing some type of attraction pheromone, and 'suggested' I get control of it, or them, as the case may be.

"I've talked to Little One about the pheromones, but keep in mind that our races, though similar, are drastically different in many ways. One of which, and a big one at that, is that they're telepathic, and we, obviously, are not. And regardless of what you've read in fiction stories, communication – at least the little I'm familiar with – between telepaths and non-telepaths is ... difficult. They just don't think the way we do, and my mind isn't designed to receive that much information in that short a period of time. Little One readily tells me anything I ask, but I have to decipher what I'm looking for out of something I call concepts. We're better at communicating than we use to be, and I can easily communicate with the Ship, but then again, it's totally different. With her, I'm ... immersed in her mind.

"The Ship tells me that communicating with the race who created her would be more like the way I communicate with Little One, so that's why I say that communication between telepaths and non-telepaths would be difficult. I don't suppose we'll really know until we meet some of them. All this is to say that the information I've received from Little One about pheromones is subject to my interpretation of what she's trying to send to me.

"Diana and I think that pheromones' influence can vary. For instance, they have little effect on another Alpha's mate, nor do they, we suspect, have much effect on a female who is truly in love with her mate, whether he is an Alpha or not. That part, I'll admit, is mostly speculation. Di also thinks that the pheromones serve more than one purpose. They obviously attract the Alpha's mate – and that's a two way street – but she thinks that they also tend to ... shape the women of the household. My women, and the other Alphas' women, don't seem to have any major disagreements, either among themselves, or with any other Alpha's mates. They're not zombies or anything like that; they just love each other and tend to get along far better than a group of women with one man would be expected to do. Also, after they've worked together for a short while, they seem to ... mesh into a ... system that's almost scary. You've seen them work together in the kitchen?" At Jeremy's nod, "That's what I mean. And it happens with everything they do together.

"Di also thinks – and I do to – that the Queen may have a pheromone or something similar that tends to bind her sister-wives to her. We're not sure this is restricted to Queens. Fred doesn't seem to have a clear-cut Queen, but his women get along just fine – although I suspect that Carla will eventually be his Queen, but that's just speculation. Nor do we understand why it hasn't already happened. Possibly, the varying times have something to do with Little One being stronger now.

"Anyway, pheromones, I think, are only one of the binding forces that an Alpha produces. We think there's a mental aspect to an Alpha's bond with his mates. And again, the bond goes both ways, as I'm sure you've noticed. Can you imagine yourself without either of your two women? No use to answer that," Jeff quickly added, "but trust me on this, those feelings will continue to intensify. And ... there's more. I talked about family, and everything I said is true, but something bonds us Alphas to each other, too, I think. I don't know whether it's pheromones, or something else. Diana says there's also a mental bond between her and her sister-wives, and I'm just as certain there is something between me and all my wives – something beyond the pheromones, as I've just mentioned.

"All of this is new to us, and there's no set of directions that comes with being an Alpha. I do know that Little One's enhancement is awakening ... things – processes in us that none of us probably had before, or if we did, they certainly weren't fully developed. I know I can do things now that I couldn't before. And before you ask, I have no idea where it will all end. I'm still learning.

"I strongly suspect you'll soon notice that your reflexes are better, your eyesight clearer and more defined at a distance and close up as well. Your ability to smell will be better – something, incidentally, that's best kept quiet. Should your women discover just how well you can smell, they'll become self-conscious about themselves. Little One's enhancement has stopped their menstrual processes, but you'll be able to detect it in other females. You will be aware of sexual excitement in females, and other things about them, with an ease that's astonishing. Smell, at least the enhanced ability we possess, can tell you a lot about an individual – someone angry or distressed will stand out as if he or she is highlighted by a spotlight."

"That's how you knew..."

"That and other ways. You had no reason to try and hide your worry, but yeah, I could tell you were stressed – from across the room without even looking at you."

"And I will be able to do that?"

"To some extent, at least. Talents seem to vary. It is absolutely impossible to successfully lie to either Fred or Quinton. But ... it was a talent they already had. Now, with the enhancement, they're both super lie detectors. I can usually detect a lie, but I'm far from being in their league."

"You knew Caitlin was in trouble, according to what Diana told my women."

"It happened earlier with Joyce, before it happened to Caitlin. It's occurred in various ways in combat, too. But it's almost ... random. I can't consciously do it, try as I might. But my women always know where I am, and that's something that's happened with all my Alphas so far. I expect your women will notice it shortly. That's assuming it is something that the Alpha does – transmits to his women, or whatever. I have no real idea how it works, but I'm fairly certain your women will notice it shortly – if they haven't already."

Jeremy sat quietly staring at his feet for a time, then looked back up at his Prime. "Mom brought up something. She says that Paulette has ... changed, been acting different. Heck, Mom thinks I've released some pheromones around Paulette that have ... upset her – maybe made it impossible for her to get me off her mind."

"Have you?" Jeff asked.

Jeremy sighed. "I don't think I have, but I can see what Mom is talking about. She's worried about Paulette, and I am too. Mom hasn't come right out and said it, but I think she's okay with me taking Paulette as a wife, even though she's not sixteen yet. What if I have dumped some pheromones around her? Can she get over it, so to speak?"

Jeff sat back and crossed his legs, thinking for a moment before he answered. Instead of answering Jeremy's question directly, "There might be other things – other processes – at work here. She's been special to you, and you to her all your life, right?"

"Yeah, very special. But I never really thought about taking her for a mate, even though Mom and Dad are siblings, well until..."

"What you mean is, you've never believed it could happen before."

Jeremy blushed. "Uh, maybe you're right, but..."

"But now, you know it can happen. Your dad just took a second wife; you see it being done here at the Retreat, plus you see me married to my daughter, and ... there's Little One to insure that any children born will be perfect. In addition to those things, Paulette has seen them, too. Might just be her awareness that she could really become your mate, like her mother is mated to her brother, or ... your enhancement awakened something in her – and I think this is the most plausible idea – and might have allowed you to form a mental bond with her, or seal or strengthen a bond that was already there. At any rate, I don't think we would be discussing this unless things had become critical, right?"

"Mom says she's really worried about Paulette. And Mom doesn't generally overreact."

"And the problem with your taking your sister as a mate..."

"She'll be fifteen tomorrow. Fifteen. If the authorities hear of it, they'll..."

Jeff interrupted with, "She doesn't look fifteen, nor does she act it. If she gets pregnant, so what? Tons of fifteen-year-old girls get pregnant every year. There was a time when a hue and cry would go up to find the father, but that was long ago. On the birth certificate, just have her put 'unknown' for father, but with Little One, there will be no accidents. She would have to turn Paulette's capabilities back on before there could be any possibility of pregnancy. Should you, she, your parents and your wives decide it's okay, I see no problem with the marriage. I'm certainly in no position to complain or criticize. I am married to my daughter, and ... should it matter to you, I think there are still a couple of states that allow a fifteen-year-old to marry with her parent's written consent.

"As far as age is concerned, there would be just as much of a hue and cry from the authorities if they found out you married your sister, no matter her age. As to why she's suddenly upset, her lifetime love has just married two women. And ... I suspect she's dreamed for years of marrying you. Her actions might very well not have anything to do with pheromones or your mental attractants, but just be the frustration of not being able to marry the man she's loved for so long. In the final analysis, what difference does it make? Diana and I discussed it when we realized that Paulette was becoming more stressed. We will be proud to marry your sister into your group, provided, of course, that all your family approves."

As Jeremy sat thinking, Jeff briefly changed the subject. "From your inferences, I guess it's obvious that you've decided to quit your job and take your father's proposition of going back to the farm? What do your wives think of the idea?"

"Oops, sorry Jeff. I guess I thought someone had told you. Yeah, it didn't take a lot of convincing. I was working the construction job so my father wouldn't have to finance my college. He continues to maintain that he and Mom can afford it, but I know it would stress their finances. But with the money you paid us for the so-called finder's fee..." As Jeff started to say something, Jeremy motioned negatively, and Jeff didn't pursue the subject. "Anyway, with that money, my wives and I aren't stressed with saving for college, so ... we can help my parents get the combined farms going."

"And your wives?"

"One hundred percent behind it," Jeremy assured him. "They've already fallen in love with Mom and Dad, and I strongly suspect in Connie's and Denise's minds, Paulette is already one of them. They surely treat her that way."

"When are you going to turn in your notice? I assume you are going to give notice."

Jeremy chuckled. "Was that a subtle hint?" he teased. When Jeff grinned at him, Jeremy went on, "I called Lee as soon as Dad told me you had agreed to loan him the money. I expected to catch some flack, but Lee was so glad that my women and I had initiated the process that wound up with your buying the company, that he told me to just consider our vacation time our notice. He already has two experienced crane operators who have applied for jobs, and laborers like Denise and myself are a dime a dozen the way the economy is now. He can fill our jobs tomorrow. He told me that if things didn't go right and we needed our jobs back, all we had to do was call; he would always have something for us. And ... we're certainly aware of why he has that attitude. It has something to do with someone I know," he said as he grinned at his Prime, "buying out Mr. Jackson's company before that other outfit could. You can bet Lee won't forget that."

Jeff chuckled. "Good to hear. Now back to what we've been talking about. I think we need a short meeting with your parents, you, your wives, Diana and myself. There's no use in Paulette suffering if everyone agrees. After that, you guys can give her the great news. Should be one heck of a birthday present for her."

-------

A few minutes earlier at the other end of the Retreat, something of a very different nature was taking place. Van hadn't used his pheromones, and hadn't needed to, his women were ... primed, to say the least. He was almost certain Adriana had a small orgasm when he kissed her while gently rubbing her back, but she wouldn't let him continue with her. "Make love to your new wife. I want to watch," she insisted.

"He's your husband," Lillian tried.

But Adriana cut her off with, "He's your husband, too. And it's your time."

Van shifted to the other woman, first kissing her for long minutes while his hands stroked her body, avoiding her breasts and pussy. Finally, his kisses trailed around her neck and down the center of her chest, veering to the side as he kissed the underside of her breasts as if he didn't know where her nipples were located.

In frustration, her body fairly thrumming from the long stimulation, Lillian grabbed his head and directed his mouth to her left nipple. As soon as he sucked, she arched her back, hissed in a breath, and came, her body trembling as she whimpered out her shocked pleasure, her bottom lip firmly clamped in her teeth in her hopes of not crying out.

Adriana, watching as she lay on her side with her head propped on an arm, whispered in her sister-wife's ear, "The suite is soundproofed. Let it go, Sister. They can't hear us, no matter how loud we scream."

Lillian didn't acknowledge her, but slumped back to the bed as the orgasm passed, while Van, having other ideas, headed south. Stopping for a couple of seconds to blow a raspberry on her innie to make her giggle, he slid a trail of kisses farther down. As he neared his goal, Lillian's body tensed and she gripped the sheet with her hands. Continuing to tease her, he kissed around her shaven pussy – shaven a couple of hours earlier just for him – until she again grabbed his head and placed his mouth against her dripping slit.

He gave one hard swipe of his tongue from her perineum to the top of her vulva, making sure he hit her clit on the way. When she hissed in a breath and raised her hips off the bed, he put his hands under her ass to keep her pussy raised, and continued to lick. Varying the pressure of his tongue and the speed with which he moved it, he touched her clit every now and then. When she was beginning to beg him to concentrate on her clit, he relented and took the tiny bud into his mouth, strumming it with his tongue, then sucking gently on it.

Apparently the buildup was worth it, if the volume of her scream was any indication. After what seemed like a long time, she ran out of air and dropped her hips back fully against his hands, her face, breasts and upper body flushed, not to mention that her vulva was now a bright rose.

Her eyes were almost glazed as he slid up her body, but Adriana's hand stayed his as he reached to guide his cock into his new wife. "Lil made me promise to do this," Adriana said as she wiped his cock on the wet lips of her sister-wife's pussy, then lined the head up with her entrance. "Make her yours, my Husband. Push."

He did so as his mouth descended onto Lillian's. The slow buildup accompanied with the love that Lillian felt for Van, plus the pheromones from the night before, and probably the mental aspects of the new Alpha claiming his women, all combined to heighten Lillian's emotions and desires until having Van's cock shoved up her was the most wonderful and thrilling thing she had ever experienced. With a shudder, she screamed long into his mouth, trembled violently when her air ran out, and fainted.

Van looked down at a comatose Lillian beneath him, her warm pussy sporadically clamping tight against his cock. "Well, crap. That didn't last long," he whispered.

Adriana giggled as she looked at her frustrated husband. "So? She couldn't have given you a better compliment, and if you remember, I've done the same thing a few times when you delayed the big event like you did with her."

"But I didn't think I was spending that much time with foreplay," he almost whined, needing to unload the sperm he had built up over the last two days.

"So kiss her awake and fuck her brains out," Adriana laughed. "She's your wife now; do with her as you wish. I'm sure you're not going to piss her off as long as that great cock of yours is shoved up her pussy."

Adriana reached over and tweaked her sister-wife's nipples, one after the other. Lillian gasped and shuddered. Van, not needing more incentive, leaned down to finish kissing her awake. After a moment, Lillian mumbled something. Grinning, Van pulled his cock back to the mouth of her entrance and slowly pushed it home again, rotating his hips to rub the head against her womb when he bottomed out in her.

"Oh, shit," Lillian said, coming fully awake as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and slammed her hips upward.

Van thrust into her, varying the speed and depth, stopping occasionally to hold deep in her and move his hips in a circle. Her orgasms began and continued every couple of minutes, each stronger than the one preceding it.

After long moments, Adriana leaned over next to Van's ear. "Finish her, Lover. Else she's going to be a basket case."

Van timed his release to the middle of Lillian's next orgasm, his mouth clamping to hers as he ran a hand under her lower back, pulling her pussy to him as his strokes shortened and sped up. With a long groan, he slammed forward, his come gushing out as he held hard within her, his cock pushed against her womb.

Lillian could feel his cock pulsing and warmth flooding her pussy, splashing against her cervix. If the door of the suite had been open, her warbling wail of release would have been heard to the other end of the long hall. As it was, a laughing Adriana clamped her hands over her ears.



-------

Chapter 197

Van, Adriana and Lillian had exhausted themselves, napped, then had gotten up to take a shower. After a snack, (left in the sitting room of the suite by Jeff's wives) rejuvenated, but no longer desperately hungry for food or sex, they lay in the big bed and talked, snuggled and kissed. Although Van had kissed and sucked a little on Adriana's breasts earlier in the night, he had not focused on trying to drain her milk.

Adriana, partially propped on a pillow with an elbow under her head, smiled at her husband beside her. Taking a breast in her hand, she squeezed the globe near the nipple, causing fine streams of woman milk to spurt out. "You need to relieve some of the pressure, or I need to use the breast pump, and ... according to Diana, my sister-wife needs to nurse a little, too."

Lillian looked a bit uncomfortable, but Adriana quickly went on, "You know I'm not into girls, but Diana says this is different – and important. She says my milk is evidence that I'm going to be the Queen, and ... I should share my pheromones with the both of you. Lil, I think we really need to do this. If it's too much to ask to have you nurse me, I can use the pump and put a little of my milk in a glass..."

"And spoil all the fun," Van joked.

Lillian reached over and touched Adriana's wet nipple. "Why? Why does Diana think we need to do this? It's not exactly sexual, but then again, it is a bit, and I'm definitely not into girls, either."

Adriana shifted, obviously a little uncomfortable with the subject. "She says it's the quickest way to bond the two of us. Van's pheromones and whatever an Alpha does mentally will do that to some extent, but a Queen's pheromones also help to bind the wives together. I guess it's a bit farfetched, but there's definitely something different about me, well, other than I'm suddenly lactating like crazy. But if you don't want to do it..."

"Then I get all the milk," Van teased, but it was obvious he was worried his wives were going to have their first ... disagreement.

"I ... have never tasted a mother's milk before," Lillian hesitantly said. "Well, since you don't have a baby, I guess we should call it something else."

"Your mother didn't nurse you?" Van kidded.

Lillian's face blushed. "You know what I mean." Then, "Oh, what the hell," and she leaned over and locked her lips around Adriana's left nipple.

At first, she seemed to just suck very gently, but after a moment, a new expression passed across her face and she sucked harder, then swallowed. A couple seconds later, she swallowed again. Then after a few minutes, she stopped and sat up, her face flushed, as was Adriana's.

"And?" Van prompted as he reached over to tweak Adriana's other nipple that was now drooling milk like the one Lillian had been nursing on.

"It was ... different," Lillian quietly said. "Different than I expected, and not nearly as embarrassing as I supposed it would be. I feel ... I don't know. Maybe I feel a little closer to you now that I've, uh, done that. But maybe..." and her words trailed off as she thought.

"Me, too," Adriana said, as Lillian sat quietly, now staring at Adriana's breasts, then reaching out a hand to touch her sister-wife on the cheek. Adriana took Lillian's hand in hers as the new Queen continued, "I guess I haven't told you before, Lil, but I love you. I guess I always have, but I suppose it's more appropriate to tell you now, and ... those feelings are a lot stronger now, too. I suppose they would have to be after we've shared our husband."

Lillian hugged her new sister-wife. "I love you, too. You've been the best friend I could ever have. Well, both of you have. And now I'm married to both of you."

"We're all equal in this marriage," Adriana assured her.

"My turn," Van said as he positioned himself to lie beside Adriana. She giggled and turned toward him, making her milk-laden breasts easily available to him. He took a turgid nipple in his mouth and sucked for a while, Adriana gradually relaxing as she looked down at him. After a few moments, she cradled his head within her arms and let out a soft sigh of contentment.

Eventually, he sat up, pulled Lillian to him, kissing her, obviously putting a mouthful of milk into her mouth. Adriana expected a reaction from Lillian, but she just swallowed and let out a soft moan. After a moment, Van went back to Adriana's breast, then when his mouth was full, moved to kiss her, startling her as he pushed the sweet milk into her mouth. She almost giggled, thinking at first that he was just playing, but suddenly she realized that he wasn't. Oddly, the act was intimate. Neither of them said anything, and after a few moments, Van went back to nursing her, eventually draining her breasts.

Normally, when Van sucked on her nipples, Adriana would have an orgasm quickly, but his deliberate nursing of her milk had been different. Somehow, she seemed to almost feel his love for her. The nursing over, he ran a hand down and caressed her pussy as he changed to little nips and licks of her nipples, interspersed with a gentle sucking. Her sexual desires instantly ramped up and she reached for his cock, only to find that Lillian's hand was already there. That hand stayed there, and a short time later, guided Van's cock to Adriana's waiting pussy.

The three would have little sleep before they were scheduled to be at breakfast when eight o'clock rolled around.

-------

Late at night, their lovemaking done, Jeff lay on his bed surrounded by all his wives, Arlene on one shoulder and Diana on the other. After things had quieted down, Arlene had taken the puppy from his kennel, and he had quickly assumed his now usual position wedged between Jeff and his daughter. Tonight, he had one of his squeaky toys clamped in his mouth. It hadn't taken the dog long to learn exactly where the squeaker was located in the toy and position his mouth accordingly. As he slowly drifted to sleep, his squeaking of the toy slowed, then became intermittent.

Jeff raised the sheet enough to glare at the almost-asleep puppy, but with a sigh, dropped the sheet back into place. He knew that griping about the puppy would be detrimental to his relationship with his wives, so he remained mute. With a mental sigh, he took a breath and unfocused his mind. As could any of his team, he was instantly asleep – squeaky toy or not.

-------

Four o'clock came quickly. As the Prime eased out of bed, Kayla, keyed to her husband, rolled out and staggered toward the bathroom. As he generally did, Jeff reminded her that he had ample security to escort him on his run, and she could go back to bed if she wanted, but she ignored him and mumbled, "Gotta pee."

A little teasing play in the walk-in closet a few minutes later, and they were soon dressed and out the back door to meet the cold wind and the new day.

-------

After the newlyweds' late breakfast, the women had gone with the new brides for their soak in the Jacuzzi. Van joined the Prime by the window in the big living room. The men sat and talked, Jeff from time to time teasing Van about his wedding night, then, "I assume that Lillian knows that you and Adriana are brother and sister?"

Van glanced over at Jeff, "What ... Oh, sure. She's known that for years. Lillian noticed the family resemblance, and she and Ryan kidded us about it. It never seemed to bother either of them. And last night, well, I think it turned her on even more. She encouraged me a couple of times to fuck my sister. She also knows that any children born will be perfect because of Little One, not that we haven't been blessed with Paulette and Jeremy – but we might have been lucky there."

Van brought the conversation back to the purchase of Aldridge's farm, but Jeff broke in before Van could say much about it. "I've already talked to my accountant and lawyer. As I told you, I don't charge interest on a loan to one of my Alphas. In addition, I've told the attorney to have the contract reflect that the first payment is not due for two years. That way, you'll have time to get things started, and hopefully have a steady income from the combined properties. All of this is subject to your review, and your attorney's, of course, should you decide to retain one. But I've instructed my attorney to make the wording of the contract as straight-forward as possible in order for it to be easily understood by everyone concerned."

"Jeff, it isn't right for you to do this without charging interest on the loan."

But Jeff was shaking his head. "You're one of my Alphas. As such, you're part of my family. I don't charge family interest. Your son and I have had a lengthy discussion about this, but the bottom line is that I don't make money off of family. Now, tell me how you plan to make all of this work. Jeremy is obviously tickled to be back home."

Jeff smiled as Van talked enthusiastically about his plans, but the Prime was thinking about a contract burning in the future. No use keeping a useless document,  he gleefully thought.

-------

The door to the lab office opened and Arlene walked in. This morning, she was wearing dull red short shorts with a brighter red polka dot blouse and heels to match her shorts, the blouse top with three buttons undone and the material tied in a knot under her breasts, accentuating them even more. She gave a subtle shrug to her shoulders as she shut the door, the practiced shrug designed to make her breasts sway and jiggle for her husband. Although he had made love to her yesterday afternoon in the Ship, and again last night when he made love to all his wives, his eyes still riveted on her partially-covered breasts.

"You like the Daisy Duke outfit?" she teased as she spun for him to show the outfit off.

"Yeah, you look sexy as hell, and you know it," he laughed as he tried to subtly move his suddenly swollen cock to a better position in his jeans.

"Having problems there, Husband?" she teased as she came to lean over his desk, grab the collar of his shirt and pull him forward to kiss him wickedly.

"You keep that up and you'll be bent over this desk in no time."

"Promises. Promises," she giggled as she moved to sit on the couch, crossing her legs sexily in front of her and swinging a sandal-clad foot. "So what are you working on this morning?"

"Same old thing," he sighed. "I'm going back over my notes for the hundredth time trying to find the problem. But no matter what I do, I can't generate a force field strong enough to stop anything bigger than a sick humming bird." Mentally shrugging away his displeasure, "And what is my lovely daughter up to? I assume that Adriana and Lillian are okay after the Jacuzzi, and won't need Little One?"

Arlene let out a little giggle as she grinned at her dad. "Are you asking to hear about their wedding night?" she teased. "What did Van say?"

"Men don't talk about their women like that. He just said he was very fortunate to have the chance to marry two wonderful women."

"Bull," his daughter laughed. "I know guys talk more than that."

"'Guys, ' might. My Alphas and I don't. We respect our wives. If you girls want to talk, that's fine with us, but guys talking only leads to problems – mainly with a wife or girlfriend getting pissed because of something she doesn't like us revealing. So being smarter than the average bear, or bears, as the case may be..."

"You just stay away from the subject of sex, huh?"

"Well, at least in detail. Besides, no other guys need to know what we do in our bedroom."

"And in the living room, and in your office, and in the shower, and in the walk-in closet..." she said with another chuckle.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your sexy visit, my young Wife?"

"Does there have to be a reason?" she teased as she moved her top aside enough to almost reveal the nipple of her right breast.

Jeff pushed his chair back and walked around his desk. Sitting beside her on the couch, he pulled her onto his lap. After brushing the material out of the way, he licked, then sucked a nipple, drawing hard until he received the sweet taste of her milk. She shuddered in his arms as he held her tight.

Minutes passed as he loved the young Queen. Finally, multiple orgasms later, he leaned back, holding her against his chest, her face tucked against his neck. After a while, she pulled back a little, kissed his lips and smiled. "When Mom and I concocted our scheme to keep you from divorcing her, we had no idea – none at all – that things would change this much. How has it all happened?"

The Prime just smiled and shook his head.

After they had sat for a time, she quietly asked, "I wonder what Arnie is doing now."

She could feel Jeff stiffen, although his expression didn't change. "Easy, Tiger," she chuckled. "Arnie was just a kid – probably still is. I have absolutely no interest in him other than curiosity. I just wish I could have kicked Jack in the balls a few times for robbing you of my virginity, though."

"Robbing me?" Jeff responded. "You mean robbing, you, don't you?"

Arlene grabbed his face and kissed him hard for a couple of seconds. "No, I mean robbing you. I had always dreamed – since I was a little girl – about you being my husband. When I reached puberty, those dreams centered around my giving you my virginity. Thanks to Jack – that asshole," she snarled. "I couldn't give it to you. He, at least, deserved a few good kicks in the balls for taking that away from you. I know you messed him up, but I wish I could have kicked him a few times."

Jeff could feel her sincerity and her sorrow. "Everything worked out, Baby. It worked out better than we could ever have wished for." He paused for a moment before going on. "Are you ever jealous of your sister-wives? I can't imagine sharing you and Diana, or any of my other wives, for that matter, yet all of you share me."

Arlene kissed him on the nose. "We're a whole, just like Momma says. We love you. We all love you, and ... it just seems right, somehow. Besides, we all spend time with you every night, and any of us can claim private time with you whenever we need it. And ... in a way, that's why I'm here now."

Uh oh. Here it comes,  Jeff thought.

"Don't you get that look on your face, Husband," she laughed. "You're not in trouble, well, other than setting me up with the Ship. I'm not sure I've forgiven you for that just yet."

"Baby, I..."

"Later," she admonished, touching her fingertips to his lips. "But let's talk about something else, first."

"And what might that be?" he teased, but he was tense when he asked, because he could feel her tension.

"It concerns a pretty little fifteen-year-old by the name of Hope."

"Baby..."

But she hurried on. "Just listen, please. There are some things you don't know, and I think it's important that you know them."

"Okay, but Baby, I have enough wives..."

Again, Arlene touched his lips with her fingers, admonishing him to wait. "You knew that Mom nursed Hope when she was having such a hard time after drawing the picture of the guy who raped her, right?"

"Yeah, I know that. But hopefully it won't matter that much..."

"Wrong, Husband. But don't be mad at Mom. I think it helped a lot. Hope was really upset, and ... it just seemed like the right thing to do. She nursed Mom like a baby. Later, at the edge of sleep, she was snuffling as she occasionally nursed like a baby would that had cried for a long time. It was really sad, Daddy. Hope told me she had thought about killing herself when all the rapes were going on, but apparently her father suspected she might try that, and made sure she didn't have a way to do it."

"Baby, we've gone over this before, and we're going to take care of the bastard who raped her so many times. The one she drew a picture of – the diplomat. And we're going to do it soon."

"That's good, Husband, but you need to marry Hope, and you need to do that soon."

Jeff turned Arlene to look her more fully in the face. "Baby, I have fourteen wives. Fourteen, for goodness sake. Continuing to add more wives isn't fair to the rest of you."

"And," she said, her face serious, "have you heard even one of us make any comments about your not adding more wives, hmmm?"

"Well, no, but that might be something that the pheromones, or some other..."

"Or it might be that we're extremely happy to be part of your ... harem," she chuckled. "I kinda like that word," she added. "It seems ... a little on the naughty side. A room full of pussy awaiting your command. And, Husband," she said as she tenderly touched her lips to his for a second, "remember, all we have to do to share with the wife being loved is to touch you or her, or any of us who are already touching either of you. You make love to all of us when you make love to one, so a few more wives doesn't make any difference at all."

"Arlene," he admonished, "no matter, there are already fourteen of you." But she only chuckled louder.

After a moment, she looked at him with what he called her shit-eating grin, "So should I take a poll to find out if my sister-wives agree? I can tell you now what the outcome will be, though, and I'm absolutely certain. We want to see the look on Hope's face when she's finally made love to by a man who loves her, and not just fucked by someone who is only interested in getting his rocks off while he's pretending to be fucking a little girl."

Jeff let out a soft sigh. "I know that Di nursed her, but Hope should belong to Art. He's the one who almost died for her."

"He almost died because he got in a gunfight. He was there, primarily, to infiltrate the slavers, according to what he's told us. Let's not make it more than it was. He was very courageous, and he definitely saved her, but the two of them don't click. If you'll open your heart, all of this will solve itself."

"And who says I haven't already opened my heart to her?"

"I told Mom that you were in love with Hope, but were just being stubborn. Not that Mom didn't know that on her own."

"Oh, shit," the Prime sighed. "In other words, Diana has already made up her mind about this?"

"Let's just say that..."

" ... Diana is waiting for me to make up my mind so she doesn't have to make it up for me," Jeff inserted, only half teasing.

After Arlene pushed her mouth against his, she opened her mouth enough to lick his lips, then pulling back after a moment, "Hope has no one but Jennie. They love each other, but Hope needs more than that to wipe out the constant memories of her past rapes."

"And now that Diana has given Hope pheromone-laden milk..." he sighed without finishing the sentence.

" ... she'll always have a special bond with Mom, and through her, our group – our family. She's already linked to you, whether you want to believe it or not. No other man will ever do."

There was quiet for a long moment, then, "I will not marry her until she's sixteen. I won't be accused of robbing the cradle," he finished, hoping to win at least something in the conversation.

"Of course not, Husband," she chuckled. "Now when are you going to kiss your new wife-to-be? And ... I'm going to let you slide on the cradle robbing comment. I doubt if you mentioned that to Jeremy when you two were talking about Paulette."

Jeff wondered how she knew about their conversation, but the look on her face said she would love to tell him. No way was he going to give her the opportunity.

-------

As Arlene left the basement stairway and stepped into the hallway on the first floor, Diana met her. "Well?" the Queen said.

"Piece of cake," Arlene responded with a grin.

Diana's face turned thoughtful. "Now we just need to get them together."

"He was adamant about sixteen," Arlene cautioned her mother.

"Not that far off," Diana absently said as they walked toward the kitchen. "Besides, she needs a slow, gentle approach, anyway. She should be so ready that by the time the wedding arrives, she'll be practically ready to rape him. Nothing like lust to override worry," she finished with a smirk. It got me pregnant with Arlene.

-------

Hope and Art sat in the sitting room of her suite. She had brought several fresh baked cinnamon rolls from the kitchen for their meeting. Returning from the small refrigerator, she handed him a coke before reseating herself on the couch across from him.

Art was a bit worried about Hope as he watched the pretty teenager. "You okay with this? You hadn't rather have someone in here with us? I could call one of my wives, or..."

"We didn't have anyone last time, and besides, I'm better, Art," she interrupted. "I've never been afraid of you, nor any of the men here at the Retreat. In the beginning, I just didn't want to be around any man." Then playing her feelings down more, "I felt ... uptight – uncomfortable, sometimes. I guess that being around men brought back memories. I know that's unreasonable, and I certainly haven't treated any male here the way I should have treated them, particularly after what you did for me, but..."

"Nonsense. I can understand, and I'm sure the others do too. Besides, we got through this before," he said, indicating her drawing tools. "So are you ready to try for the first guy's wing man?" he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"Wing man?" she giggled.

"Yeah, I saw this guy with the one you identified as one of, uh..."

"My rapists?" she finished for him.

"Yeah. Sorry. Anyway, the one I'm going to try to describe to you was a man that I saw with the original guy a few times. I saw him driving the car for the first guy, and later sitting and talking with him. I suspect he had a dual purpose by the way he acted. Probably a bodyguard as well as a driver. Anyway, let's give it a try."

Art hesitated, his thoughts turning inward for a time. Then, "He was pretty tall, I'd say about six foot one, and had a really thick, heavy build. Not fat, but thick. He was about forty years old, with dark hair, not quite black, but a very deep brown and a little bit long – just a little over his ears, and had a short beard, deep black..."

Hope listened for a while as he continued and she gathered information. After a couple of minutes hearing Art describe the man, and his mannerisms, she bypassed the computer system she had used last time to get them started, and picked up her pencil to begin madly sketching, her lip caught in her mouth as she concentrated.

As she worked, Art, curious, stopped his narrative and sat watching her. She hadn't asked him a single question. Eventually, he picked up a cinnamon roll and took a bite, his expression that of vague amusement, and perhaps wonder.

Hope occasionally stopped to stare into space for a moment, then would go back to her sketching, her pencil fairly flying over the paper.

Art had finished his third roll and was wondering if he could justify eating another when the girl let out a sigh and spun the sketch around on the coffee table in order for him to see it. "This your guy?" she asked as if she were certain it was.

Art almost spilled his coke as he hastily set it on the table and grabbed the sketch. Even though he was anxious, he was careful to touch only the edges in case his fingers were still sticky.

"Oh, crap, Baby. That's him. That's him to a tee," he said. "But I didn't give you enough information. We didn't go through the process we went through before..."

Hope was shaking her pretty head. "Since we both knew the first guy – that bastard – and you said this one was his driver and probably his body guard, I knew who you were talking about as soon as you started describing him." She took a breath and stopped, obviously remembering.

As her face flushed and her breathing became audible, Art came to his feet. "I'll get Diana."

But she was waving her hand, obviously fighting back tears. "No. No. Please don't get anyone. I'm tired of being a baby. Just give me a few seconds. This has just ... brought back memories – very, very bad memories."

Not knowing what to do, Art hurried to get her a soft drink from the fridge, opening the drink and setting it on the table by her. "How about a dampened washcloth to wipe your face?" he said, still standing. "Look, I can call my wives..."

His almost desperation to keep her from crying was working. Not in the way he expected, but working, nonetheless. She tried to hold back her amusement at the tough FBI agent who had not hesitated to shoot it out with a group of thugs in a motel room, but was now almost wringing his hands because a girl was on the verge of a few tears.

Taking a breath, she motioned and said, "Please sit back down. I'm not going to let this fear control me." She took a big gulp of her drink before setting it back on the table and picking up the sketch.

She began, hesitantly, "This... bastard was every bit as bad as his ... boss. The first guy, this diplomat, would ... use me, then sometimes when he was done, he would let this ... pig have me."

Hope took another gulp of her drink, put the sketch on the coffee table between them, tucked a leg under her and sat back on the couch as she stared into space. After a few minutes of silence, she continued, her voice almost frail-sounding, "I once heard the two of them talking. They were in the next room and I was on the bed after the ... diplomat had just finished with me. The door was open a crack and I could hear them a little. For some reason, I got up and stood near the door, listening."

She took a breath as she stared with a blank expression on her face, remembering. "I only heard parts of what they were talking about, but the diplomat was going to leave his ... bodyguard with me and he was cautioning him, the body guard I mean, to not screw up and do what he had done to the 'other girl.' He said something about some fisherman finding her body."

With a shudder, she focused on Art. "I'm certain from their conversation that both of them had killed girls before. They both kind of sniggered about it, but the diplomat said he didn't need the 'flak' just then."

"We need to get the Prime in here. He needs to hear this," Art quietly said. "Could you repeat for him what you've told me?"

When she agreed, Art dialed the phone.

A little later, Jeff had looked at the picture – it was almost too good to call it a sketch – and had listened to what Hope had to say. As she relayed her story, in more detail this time, Jeff's face set into something that was ... They could feel his anger.

"It's time," he said as he came to his feet and started out of the room. Suddenly, he turned back, walked over to Hope, reached out a hand and gently pulled her to her feet. Quietly, "This needs to end. I promise you that these two will pay," he finished as he tenderly hugged her, kissed her forehead, turned and left, taking the sketch with him.

Hope stood looking at the door that Jeff had just passed through, her mind awash with emotion. He ... cares for me. I felt it.



-------

Chapter 198


Jeff sat at his desk in his business office as he talked with General Whitworth on the secure satellite phone. " ... I just gave the sketch to Security. You should have a copy on your desk momentarily," he finished, his mounting frustration evident. "We'll never get all these sons-of-bitches if we wait for the FBI. Shit, I don't mean to belittle them. The agents I've worked with lately are first class, but these two bastards will probably be able to squirm out of anything that's done to them legally, and ... you and I both know it."

Whitworth found himself trying to appease an obviously angered Prime. "We've been gathering information, Colonel. I have no problem taking them out; we just need to do it a bit discreetly since he's a fucking high-level diplomat. We could dispose of him with any number of untraceable drugs, but ... it would still throw suspicion on our government. And ... I don't need an investigation that might tend to focus on black ops. Best to do this another way."

"And while we're farting around, no telling what this bastard is doing."

"Well ... that isn't exactly true. I've kept him under surveillance since we identified him after Hope made the first sketch. From what we hear and see, he's running scared since the shootout in Georgia."

"So? How does he know about that?"

"He's a fucking diplomat, and we both know he's involved with the slavers. I just don't know exactly how. You can bet your ass that Hope was soon to be kidnapped. If the money deal hadn't gone through, I think they would have just taken her. That goes along with what Art got out of the meeting, too. But I think she was destined for the politician – at least for a while. Maybe until he tired of her, then who knows? Maybe out of the country, or an overdose to kill her."

"And he'll skip on this, won't he? His government will pull him out of the country, no matter what he's charged with. We're back to square one, General. And ... my wives are pushing me to marry Hope. I can't let what he's done to her go unanswered."

"Never said you should, and you know it, Colonel. You must know me better than that. What about the people who sold Nat, Nicki and Whitney? See them running around?"

"Sorry, General. I guess I was letting my temper talk too much."

"No problem, Jeff. Just give me enough time to set this up properly. I suppose you'll want to use your team?" Whitworth chuckled, "Don't even bother answering that. What about Art? He will want to go. You need to start training him to work with your team if you decide to take him."

But Jeff was shaking his head, even though the General couldn't see him. "Unh uh. I'm sure he would want to be there, but he's FBI. He doesn't need to know about this ... well other than in a general way. There could be a lie detector somewhere in his future, and this might come out, or rather, force him to lie and probably get fired for it. If things ever cool down for him, I assume he would want to continue his career. But for now, Helen and Laura are working to get something going for him and his wives."

Whitworth sighed. "If I were in his shoes, I'd be pissed if you left me out. But it's your call."

"I'll just tell him it's taken care of and he should not ask me about it. He's a smart guy; he'll figure out that I'm trying to protect his job for him."

"Are things still going well with Kayla? Oh, I know she's practically your shadow? I've asked before, but..."

"She insists on training with my team, as I'm sure you're aware. Some days, she's so exhausted she looks like she wants to die. She has had a collection of scrapes and bruises, but hasn't once complained. I have had Little One heal her a couple of times when I knew her bruises were too severe for her to continue the next day. She's trying to train and protect me, too. Before she goes to the ski lodge to meet with the team, she makes me promise not to leave the Retreat. She lucked up and was here when the thing with Caitlin happened, otherwise, I would still be in deep shit with Kayla."

There was quiet for a time, then, "General, I'm still not sure about using her for my personal security. She's too anxious to defend me. She could get hurt that way. I can take care of myself."

"Then teach her to be good enough to defend you," Whitworth responded.

"Shit, General. My team has trained for years, and those people were the best of the best before they even got on the team..."

"Then make her the best of the best. She's exactly where she needs to be. If Arlene had been better trained, she would have taken that mercenary out without getting herself shot. You know it, and I know it. She was valiant, but had no combat training. Security has training instructors. Your team's instructors are there as well. You're a Colonel, and besides, they're there for you. Use them."

"I don't want my women to be trained fighters. They're my wives,  for goodness sake."

Whitworth let out a quiet sigh. "Sometimes we don't get everything we want, Colonel – not even the Prime."

-------

The puppies traveled down the hall, practically bouncing with their playfulness. So far, neither of the little animals had done anything on the carpet, and the girls were watching them less and less closely, although they still took them outside very frequently.

The puppies' new world was big ... and interesting. Each one had missed its mother, but there were so many distractions, plus many people who picked them up, loved them, and played with them, that it was hard to be lonely for long. Having a buddy they had known all their short lives also helped, and getting to sleep with their humans was a big boost as well.

They were frequently distracted as they made their way down the corridor, turning to follow each new scent trail, most of which ended at a closed door. As they passed the kitchen, they were again distracted by the smells, this time, though, the smells were far more interesting, until...

Billy had lain in wait for more than an hour. He had decided that his new hiding place behind a planter that was sitting on a pedestal would allow him to pounce on the two dogs from above. His plan had been a good one, and with the patience of a cat, he had sat unmoving for more than an hour, except for an occasional twitch of the end of his tail. Now his prey neared, and that twitch became more frequent as he readied to pounce.

But ... the puppies, in unison, turned their heads away from the kitchen door to lock onto the cat smell. Dashing the twenty feet to the pedestal, they sat barking up at a frustrated Billy.

Come on down and play, Cat,  Sugar said in her mind.

Yeah,  Spike agreed. I'll bite your tail again, Cat. My nose is still sore where you scratched it.

Billy stood staring down at the dogs, hissing, his tail fluffed out, but their barking was hurting his ears. With one final hiss, he teleported back to his suite to contemplate the situation. There had to be a better way to do this that would trump the dogs irritating advantage in smelling. This was his territory and they were the interlopers.

-------

Jeff, Diana, Van, Adriana, Lillian, Jeremy, Connie and Denise sat at the table in one of the small conference rooms.

Adriana's mind swirled on the crux of a dilemma. She wanted her daughter to be happy, but she was only fifteen. Having been reminded that fifteen would have easily been marrying age less than a hundred years ago, helped very little. Neither did it help that she, Adriana, had been the one to more or less suggest to her husband they go ahead and allow their daughter to marry. She knew that Paulette was hurting, but in recent months, she had become much like the sister that Adriana never had. Now the teenager would no longer be living with them, but would be a married woman living next door. No matter what Adriana had said to try to convince her husband, it seemed as if she were losing her daughter.

" ... She does look sixteen," Adriana sighed, "but she's still my little girl."

Van took his wife's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're either one hundred percent, or we tell her she has to wait. You're the one who convinced me," Van reminded. "I thought this was settled between us."

Before Adriana could answer, Jeremy spoke up. "Mom, you know how much we mean to each other. She snuck into my bed the last time I slept at home. Did you know that?"

Adriana gave out a little chuckle. "Van and I knew, and we trusted you. Well, trusted both of you. But every time she did it in recent years, we worried more. After all, Van and I didn't wait, and we know that she loves you."

Jeremy looked at his mother, a grin taking over his face. "Damn, we thought we were being sneaky, but I never touched her that way. We just snuggled."

Van raised an eyebrow as he looked at his son. "You never touched her, but did she..."

"We never had sex, Dad – in any way, but she ... checked me out," he finished as he blushed. "I swear that was all, but you have no idea how difficult it was to tell her 'no.'"

Van looked at Adriana and they both smiled at each other. "Oh, I could guess," he said as Adriana giggled.

Jeff cleared his throat. "Here in the Retreat, especially now that we have Security, we don't have a problem with people trying to meddle in our business, but what about your home? Are there neighbors that will notice? What about Paulette wearing a wedding ring? What about school? Who will likely pay attention to her actions, and will she be able to keep secret from her girlfriends that she's married? She's young and she'll be proud that she's married. What about a slip of the tongue to her teachers or friends? In another year, most of those problems will go away with a suitable cover story – a husband who is in the army, or something like that. Right now, there could be problems.

"Understand," he said just before Van could answer, "I'm all for her marrying. I just want to call attention to some of the problems you might face. And ... Di and I might have an answer for some of those problems. Helen has a state certified private school on the premises. Perhaps there's a way to have Paulette enroll in Helen's school and attend via the Internet. That should vastly decrease the possibility of the marriage being discovered. And before you ask, Helen has some friends – good friends who have the authority needed, and they owe her some favors, apparently big ones – at the state level, who might very well smooth things out should there be problems with the Internet school."

"Would Helen be willing to do that?" Adriana asked.

"She was the one who brought it up," Diana answered.

"Adriana?" Van questioned.

"Just help us stay close," she responded. "I don't like my empty nest, but I want my daughter to have what I've had – still have – with you, my Darling. And okay, I agree, we should let her marry Jeremy."

Van hesitated while the others waited. Taking his wife's hand, he looked at the Prime. "Yes. I agree."

"You two?" Jeff asked as he looked at Denise and Connie.

But almost before he could get the question out, they both emphatically said as one, "Yes!"

"You know I vote yes," Jeremy chuckled.

"And you, Lillian?"

"Me? I'm just..."

"You're one of us, Baby," Van said. "Your vote counts just like the rest of ours do."

Lillian sat up straighter, hesitated for a second, then said, "Paulette is more adult than some of the adults I know. She obviously loves Jeremy, and I know he loves her, too. So if I have a vote, then I vote yes, also."

"When?" Van said.

Adriana squeezed her husband's hand. "I know that Paulette will want the wedding as soon as possible. And like I said earlier, I know she's hurting to be with you," she said as she turned to her son. "So, I guess as soon as we can get her a dress and a ring, and ... whenever the Matthews have the time for the ceremony."

"We always have time," Jeff injected.

Diana let out a little chuckle. "I've ... done a couple of things that you might not like. When we sent in Paulette's measurements for her bridesmaid dress, well, I told Dana to go ahead and make her a wedding dress to match Connie's and Denise's. I had Nat, Nicki and Whitney to play around with Paulette with the ring gauges to get Paulette's size without her realizing what they were actually doing. I called it in to the jewelry shop. Her ring to match her sister-wives' is ready to be picked up. Since her bridesmaid dress fit like a glove, I see no reason why the wedding dress won't as well. We can have a courier take the dress and ring to the airport to meet one of the helicopters. A few minutes after that and they will be here."

"But that will cost..."

" ... nothing," Jeff finished for him. "Frank owns the helicopter service, and the cost of a courier is trivial. Why don't you two talk to your daughter and ask her if she wants to be married tonight?"

But both mother and father were shaking their heads as they turned as one to look at their son. "Let's let her fiancé do that," Van said.

"What about her birthday party?" Jeff asked. "I know the wedding will overshadow that, but she is fifteen today."

"The girls are decorating a banquet room as we speak," Diana responded.

Van let out a chuckle. "Maybe we should wait to tell her about the wedding until after her birthday party. Otherwise, she might not even notice the party."

"We had the party scheduled for three because you said you had to get home to do your chores. Can you get someone to take care of them so Paulette can have her wedding tonight?"

Van let out a chuckle. "Ben was tickled out of his mind when I told him I would pay the full price for his farm. All I have to do is give him a call."

"Besides," Adriana offered, "Van has done his chores for him many times, as well as other farmers in the area when they needed to go somewhere."

-------

Diana had gotten Dana on the phone, and having determined that the dress was ready, asked, "Isn't there a courier service just down the block from you?"

"Sure. Morrison's Couriers," Dana agreed. "I use them all the time."

"Well, since you're familiar with them, would you contact them for me and have them take the dress to the airport to meet our helicopter? Just let me know how much they charge and I'll reimburse you. Also, they need to pick up the ring I reserved at the jewelers." Diana started to apologize for the extra work. "Dana, I know that..."

"Hush, Diana. It's no problem. Same jewelers as always?"

"Yeah. I'll call and let him know you're sending someone. The dress is going to be a surprise birthday present, so if you have a box..."

"You want me to wrap it? I'll be glad to."

Diana laughed. "No, that might get me in big trouble. The girls will want to do that. Just put it in a nice box, please. Got a pen? I'll give you the particulars about locating the helicopter service."

"I'm ready."

-------

Dana hung up the phone and turned to an assistant. "Hurry and put that one in a gift box while I make some phone calls," she said as she pointed to the newly completed dress hanging nearby. "And be extra careful with it."

After a quick phone call to the jewelry store to make sure he knew she was coming for the ring, she called the helicopter pilot to tell him she was leaving for the jeweler's and the airport.

A few minutes later, as the assistant handed Dana the boxed dress, "But I thought I heard you mention Morrison's? Are you going to deliver the dress to the airport yourself?"

"This is for the Matthews. Without them, I would still be struggling along by myself, barely surviving, not making wedding dresses for the wealthy with my business booming. I'm going to personally put the ring and dress in the pilot's hands. You can reach me on my cell if you need me," she finished as she hurried out the door with the dress.

Putting the box carefully inside her vehicle, Dana headed for the jewelers. Forty minutes later, Reed lifted off from the airport, the ring box in his pocket and the dress box safely strapped in the seat beside him.

-------

Jeff and Van sat in a corner of the banquet room as music blared from the sound system, and the teenagers had fun at Paulette's birthday party. Van frowned as a strident guitar run jarred his now much more sensitive hearing. "Shit. How can they like that crap? It practically tears my head off," he complained, thinking about putting his hands over his ears, but not wanting to insult his daughter on her birthday.

Jeff reached out. "Hold my hand for a minute. Maybe I can show you how to manipulate your hearing enough to help."

Van looked at him askance. "No way am I going to sit here holding hands with you, Prime or not," he laughed.

"Okay. Okay," Jeff said, chuckling himself, "then shake my hand while I talk to you about your hearing. You can tone down the response for the higher frequency sounds – or everything, for that matter – and it will give you some relief from all that squalling racket."

Van looked a question at Jeff, but eventually shrugged and reached out a hand. After a few seconds, Jeff began to speak. At first, Van couldn't really understand what the Prime was talking about, but then he began to feel what Jeff was describing to him. The strident, high-pitched whine that was irritating him diminished in volume, and he began to experiment. Odd that I never thought about sound like this, he wondered.

Jeff sat silently watching until Van suddenly shrugged and turned back to Jeff, the very intelligent farmer quickly dropping his hand as a blush crept over his face.

Jeff spoke to his Alpha through all the noise, "After heightening your sensitivity, you will be able to sit in a quiet room, and by focusing, you will be able to hear a heartbeat from a considerable distance, or," he said as he grinned bigger, "you can block out a loud racket if need be."

What the Prime didn't tell his Alpha was that if he (Jeff) concentrated, he could also hear the numerous little noises the body and digestive system made, even the blood flowing in a person's veins. Stealthily approaching the Prime was basically a lost cause. Not even Jeff's wives really knew how well he could hear, for like his ability to smell, they would soon become self-conscious if they realized. Telling them he could only do this if he consciously increased the sensitivity of his hearing would do little good, and he knew it. Thus, he never told how well he could hear.

-------

The party was winding down, and at a nod from Diana, Arlene cut the music to announce it was time for the presents. Rather than deluge Paulette with presents, each Alpha family only had one – though each was a very nice present. Eventually, there was one present left.

Making the teenager wonder, Jeremy approached with a large, beautifully wrapped box. As she took the box, "But you and your wives have already given me my present."

"Not this one, we haven't. And, I'm just the bearer. Diana and her family made it possible."

"But..."

"Open it," the Queen said.

The room was suddenly so quiet that it was as though everyone had stopped breathing. Paulette knew there was something special in the box. She slipped the big white bow off, laying it carefully aside, not wanting to destroy such a creation. With one last look around, she slipped her hand under the paper and tore it away. A long, white box lay bare on her lap, and her heart began to beat a little faster. Again, she looked around at the faces staring back at her, everyone so quiet it was almost scary. Some wildly optimistic part of her brain began to really get excited. Forcing calm, she popped the two pieces of clear tape that held the box closed, took a breath and flipped the box open.

With trembling hands, she moved the baby blue tissue paper aside. White material, chiffon and lace dominated her vision. She remembered to breathe – shuddering though her breathing was. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. Surely they didn't buy this for me a year early? her mind wondered. They wouldn't do that to me, would they?

But Jeremy was down on one knee in front of her. "Will you marry me, Paulette? Today? In a few hours?"

-------

Paulette pushed awkwardly at a hand that was holding a very pungent smelling something near her nose. Her senses came back a little and she turned her head away while pushing more strongly at the hand. As her world came into focus, she vaguely realized that Jeremy was holding her in his arms and Caitlin was kneeling beside her, and had obviously been holding something under her nose.

Kneeling? she wondered as she tried to pull away from Jeremy to sit up. Why is she kneeling? Why am I on the floor?

"Sit up slowly," Caitlin advised, "you might still be a little dizzy for a few minutes."

Consciousness came flooding back, and with it, embarrassment. "Oh, my goodness," she blurted. "I ... I ... fainted, didn't I?" Then as she reached for her dress box sitting on the floor near them, Jeremy stayed her hand.

"It's just fine. I caught you, and Arlene caught your dress. The dress didn't even touch the floor."

"Are you okay, Baby?" Adriana and Van, also kneeling near her, asked practically together, worry obvious in their voices.

"You scared us," Diana added as she reached to touch Paulette's cheek. "Jeff was going to have Little One check on you, but Caitlin got the smelling salts from one of the bathrooms, and the salts did the trick."

As Jeremy helped her back into her chair, "I'm fine. I'm fine. Just ... more embarrassed than I've ever been in my life."

"We wanted to surprise you," her father remarked as he held a hand out to help his wife to her feet. "I guess we accomplished that," he finished with a somewhat sick chuckle.

"Van," Adriana admonished.

But Paulette was giggling, and the mood seemed to catch on. "I never did get an answer," Jeremy dryly commented as he leaned in to hug her. "Should I go back to my knees and..."

"Yes!" she almost yelled out, jumping to her feet, clasping her arms around him and hugging him as tightly as she could. "The answer is yes. Yes. Yes!" Then, "Uh, if it's okay with Connie and Denise, that is. And Mom and Dad," she finished as she looked a bit sheepishly at the others.

Adriana took her daughter's hand. "We had a meeting and decided that you were adult enough to make your own decisions concerning your marriage. So, yeah, we all approve."

Denise and Connie reached to hug Paulette. "We're going to have a great night," Denise said.

"Absolutely," Connie agreed.

When Paulette thought what that meant, a blush deepened across her face.

Adriana, trying to hold back tears, "Get your dress, Kiddo. We have a lot to do in the next few hours. And you might want to kiss your man. The next time you see him, you'll be wearing that beautiful dress."

Adriana needn't have bothered with that instruction, because Paulette was already launching herself to wrap her arms around Jeremy.

Shortly, Adriana was pulling her out of the room with Paulette clutching her dress box while trying to look back over her shoulder at her fiancé.



-------

Chapter 199


"Do the cake for us," Diana said as Nat, Nicki and Whitney led Hope into the kitchen.

"Me?" Hope got out as she saw the big cake, obviously ready for the final decorating. "I've only decorated a couple of cakes in my whole life. I wouldn't dare touch a wedding cake."

"Oh, come on, Hope. We all know you have a wonderful talent. If you don't like the initial decoration, all we have to do is scrape it off, refrost the area, and you can do it again."

Jennie moved to hug her sister. "I told everyone about the cakes you decorated, and the sculpture you made in class at school. We have everything laid out for you," she finished as she indicated a display that included every cake decorating tool any decorator could ever think of using, all waiting for Hope.

"We printed out a number of pictures, to, maybe, give you some ideas. We have every color imaginable, and plenty of help to color your palette of icing. All you have to do is ask and we'll put what you need in your hand."

"Like a surgeon in an operating room," Arlene said with a giggle.

"I can't..." Hope started as Melissa spread out a number of pictures on the big table. One picture, obviously taken from the top of the big stairway, showed the living room with a wedding in progress. Hope picked up the picture and stepped over to the cake, her mind already dropping into the zone.

Arlene grinned and quickly glanced at the picture before beginning to blend coloring into some icing. Soon, she was directing others to do the same with different colors. Susan took one of the hollow plastic cones (icing tubes), dropped a tube tip in, and worked it down to the narrow end. When the tip was down as far as it would go, she cut the end of the plastic triangular-shaped tube with a pair of scissors, then pushed the metal tip snugly into place. Jennie took the simple apparatus and partially filled it with white icing. By the time Hope reached for her first tube of icing, it was inches from her hand, waiting for her, her mind already synced with the others as they worked together.

After hesitating a second as she glanced at the picture and thought, she positioned the tip where she wanted the icing to come out and began to apply pressure to the tube of icing. In a few minutes, the picture, in three dimensions, began to take form on the big cake.

Diana nodded at Hope and whispered into Arlene's ear, "As our husband would say, 'Utilize your assets.'"

The young Queen, barely holding back a giggle, whispered back to her mother, "When Dad marries her, she'll be one of our assets."

Diana's face burst into a smile. "Looks like she already is."

-------

Paulette sat fretting on the couch of the sitting room of the double suite she shared with her parents. Adriana was sitting on one side of her daughter with Lillian sitting on the other side. Connie and Denise were sitting in chairs across from them. "I wasn't expecting this to happen so soon," the young bride-to-be very quietly said as she managed yet again to refrain from jumping up to go and gaze at the wedding dress that was hanging in her bedroom. Then, "Don't I need to start getting ready? It's..."

"They're still setting up the living room, Baby," her mother said, trying to calm her daughter's nerves. "And..." she continued, reaching over to squeeze Paulette's hand, "they definitely won't start without you," she finished with a chuckle.

The teenager looked over at Connie and Denise. "I'm scared to death."

"And you think we weren't?" Denise responded with a giggle. "You'll calm down when Jeremy takes your hand as we all stand before Diana and Jeff."

"I hope so. But right now..."

But Connie had to add, barely holding back a smirk, "We were just as nervous as you are, but we calmed down when we stepped on that platform and Jeremy took our hands. A few minutes later, though, we were at the reception and having a ball cutting the cake and feeding it to each other. But ... I think that was about the time it dawned on us that we were now married, and married to the most wonderful man on earth. And ... he was soon going to make love to us, and us to him."

"That was your sudden exodus to the bathroom," Adriana said as she remembered.

"Yep, it almost scared the pee out of us," Connie agreed.

"But then ... just a little later, he picked us up and took us into the suite. You heard what happened," Denise said as both young women came over to kneel in front of Paulette to hold her hands.

"But I've never done anything. I won't know what to do," she fretted.

Adriana slid closer to her daughter and put an arm around her to hug her tight. "You'll know," she quietly said as she kissed Paulette's cheek, "your sister-wives will be there. Just remember that Jeremy was a virgin, too, until a couple of days ago. According to these two," she said as she nodded at Connie and Denise, "he mastered the art of love the first night. Just relax and let him teach you."

"Besides," Connie added, "your virginity is a precious gift to give to your husband. That's something that Denise and I couldn't give him, no matter how much we wished we could."

"We were just as scared as you," Denise added. "But when Jeremy laid us on that bed and kissed us, all that worry went away. He loves us, and he loves you. Before you know it, all three of us will be married to him. There's no describing the feeling when you realize that you belong to him, and that he's yours as well."

Adriana touched her daughter's cheek. "I gave my virginity to Van when I was a little younger than you. I never looked back. There has never been one minute in one day that I haven't been pleased with that decision. Now that we know our men are Alphas, it makes even more sense, and now they're enhanced Alphas. Diana says that all of us will live a very long time because Little One has enhanced us. It's an awesome thing to think that we'll get to share that time with a mate we truly love."

Adriana stood, then reached down to take her daughter's hand. "Let's get your bath. Diana and Laura will be here in a few minutes to trim and style your hair like they did for us. You'll want to look your best for your husband." Then, very quietly, "Do you want to shave for him?"

With that question, Paulette felt a jolt deep in her belly. Oh, my goodness. In just a little while, I'll be married, and ... a woman. Jeremy – my husband – will make me a woman tonight. Tonight,  she repeated to herself. "Yeah," she heard herself answer, her face flaming. "But I've never shaved there before..."

"We'll help," Denise assured her, "and we'll be very careful. You'll be beautiful for him."

There was a moment's pause as Denise and Connie looked at each other before Connie said, "I know you said you wanted us there, but you have the right to have your wedding night alone with your husband..."

"No," Paulette quickly said. "I want us to start this marriage together. Please, both of you, be there with me."

-------

Later, Paulette, Jeremy, Connie and Denise stood near the wedding cake. "Both of you hold the knife as you make the first cut," Evie directed as she held her camera ready. Susan stood back with the video camera recording, also.

"No, all of us," Paulette objected. "We're all married to each other, so we all cut the cake."

"We've already done it with Jeremy," Denise tried to object. "It's your turn now."

But Paulette was still shaking her head. "No. I'll guide it, but all of us need to take part."

Laughing, Denise and Connie strained to put a hand each on top of Jeremy's and Paulette's hands. The first slice was cut – sloppily and with plenty of laughter – but cut, nonetheless.

After taking the first bite, Paulette pushed a finger into the icing of the piece and wiped it around her husband's mouth, then licked and kissed it off.

Diana and Jeff stood back watching. "Why didn't I think of that?" the Queen said with a tiny giggle. "Watching her lick the frosting off her husband's mouth is sexy. And ... when we go to bed, all your wives will be thinking about her giving herself to Jeremy. Get ready for another long night, Husband," she said as she stood on tiptoes to kiss him on his cheek.

As they stood watching, Diana pinched her mate's side, making him flinch and look hard at her. "Ouch. What brought that on?"

"I saw where your eyes were. And, you're seeing all you're going to see. The tape we used will keep her boobs from falling out of that plunging neckline."

"I was not..." he began to deny, "and besides, I have fourteen of the most beautiful and sexy women in the world..."

"Good answer, Husband, but you're still a man. A man's eyes lock on boobs like your radar does on an incoming plane. Not that I'm complaining, because all of us wives love for you to look at us. Just keep those eyes off that pretty virgin's boobs, Husband. Besides, just thinking about what they're going to be doing in a little while has already caused me to soak the nursing pads I taped over my nipples. If the reception lasts much longer, I'm going to have wet spots on my dress, pads or not."

He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "We could always step into a bathroom and let me relieve some of the pressure," he halfway teased.

"Like our guests wouldn't notice when I came back after having a half dozen orgasms."

"So? We're married. That license gives me the privilege."

"And your team? Not a good example for them, huh?"

The Prime chuckled as he kissed the side of her head, nuzzling in her hair as he continued to whisper. "I seriously doubt if any of them are virgins. They would probably get a kick out of it if they noticed."

"Darnit, Jeff, quit talking about it. My nipples are already at full mast. They're going to be pouring milk if we don't change the subject."

"And the problem with that is..."

"You get your side pinched," she replied, putting action to words.

"Ouch," he hissed out again, grabbing for her hand.

The Queen giggled as she pulled her hand from his. "Now let's get in line to get our cake before you get me too excited and I start seriously considering your little scenario in the bathroom."

Chuckling, the Prime took his Queen's arm and escorted her to the end of the serving line.

-------

Paulette stood, flanked by Connie and Denise, in the bedroom of the honeymoon suite. The teenager's eyes were cast downward and she had her hands clasped in front of her. I'm so scared. I know I'm going to make a fool of myself. Should I undress him? What should I say to my sister-wives? Diana said that Little One had done something to my hymen so it wouldn't hurt very much when my husband takes me. The thought that Jeremy was now really her husband jarred her. It's finally happened. He's really my husband. It felt as if her heart rate suddenly doubled. Should I... 

Her thoughts were interrupted as Jeremy cupped a hand gently under her chin, tilted her head up and kissed her. She slumped against him for a time, a faint tremble embarrassing her even more. "Jeremy," she whispered. "I love you, but I don't know anything about making love. I love you so much..."

"Stop worrying, my Little Darling," he responded, and his lips touched hers again. The kiss started with a gentle touch, but then his mouth put a little more pressure on hers, and his tongue touched her lips seeking entrance. Without thinking, she opened her mouth slightly, and their tongues met. Her arms went around him as he tightened his around her. She could feel her braless breasts pushing against his hard chest, and knew the hard object pushing against her belly was his manhood.

She heard someone moan, and realized it was herself. The kiss deepened, her surroundings seeming to slip away for a time, but then she felt cool air on her back and some part of her mind realized that someone had pulled the zipper down the back of her dress.

Her mind again focused on the hard lump pressing against her. For a second, worry forced its way back into her mind as she wondered if she could please this virile man. She had touched his ... cock once when she and Jeremy slept together, but other than a vague outline in the darkened bedroom, she had never seen it clearly.

It feels enormous pressing against me. Oh, I hope I'm big enough for it to fit in me. I know it's going to hurt, no matter what Mom and Diana say, but I'm his wife, I'll take him inside me no matter how much it hurts.

She felt the dress slide off her shoulders and the gentle tug as the double-sided tape that kept her breasts from being totally exposed gave up its resistance and went with the dress. Dropping her arms, she allowed the garment to continue on to the floor. She could feel her nipples reacting to the cool air of the room, but Jeremy gently pulled her back against him and resumed the kiss.

He eventually took his mouth from hers as Denise encouraged her to step out of the beautiful dress. Then with it out of the way, he picked her up and gently placed her on the bed. As he kissed her face and eyes, Connie removed her heels, leaving her clad only in white bikini panties and skin-toned hose.

Jeremy stood smiling down at her as Connie and Denise quickly stripped him to his undershorts. By the time Paulette tore her eyes away from his to look downward, he had already settled onto the bed beside her and she didn't get to see his cock. As he leaned forward, she thought he was going to kiss her mouth again, but he surprised her by kissing first one nipple, then the other.

She had never had anyone touch her nipples before, let alone Jeremy. Suddenly, she was very, very glad she had ended her first date with a slap when the boy grabbed her breasts through her blouse. "You're beautiful," Jeremy quietly said just before locking his lips around her left nipple and beginning to gently suck.

Her breasts had felt different from the time Little One had enhanced her, and had grown some, even in the short time since. They had bothered her last night, awakening her with tingling twice during the night. With the onslaught of Jeremy's attention to her, and the arousal that assailed her, they felt full, swollen and tight, sensitive almost beyond belief. Although that sensitivity was throughout her breasts, it centered in her nipples.

He sucked, harder now, and added an occasional lick and nibble. She had, of course, known for some time that she had sensitive breasts, far more sensitive than other girls, if their descriptions of their boyfriends sucking on them was any indication. Many times, she had made herself come by wetting a fingertip in her mouth and gently drawing circles around her areola, the circles gradually becoming smaller until she eventually touched, then tugged on the nipple. Her friends never mentioned coming by just stimulating their own breasts, and although they talked about how good it felt to have a boy suck on them, none of them ever mentioned having an orgasm like that.

Despite what she had heard Connie and Denise say about the orgasms Jeremy gave them, she had assumed that they were exaggerating because of their love for him, so she expected any orgasm he might give her by sucking on her breasts and nipples would be generally the same as she had given herself – wrong.

When his lips locked onto her nipple, she found out that there was a direct connection between her nipples and her clit. That connection was mainline and fully active.

"Wow," Denise and Connie said as one when Paulette grabbed Jeremy's head, shivered and let out a warbling wail. After a prolonged moment, she relaxed, gasping for air.

"I never ... I never ... knew..." she managed to say, her voice weak.

Connie leaned over and whispered into the new wife's ear, "Baby, he's just started. Wait until he puts that fabulous cock of his in you."

By the time Paulette had come down from the best orgasm she had ever had, her husband had moved to the other breast and was kissing around her nipple without touching it. "No," she whispered, "kiss it. I can't stand this," she finished, as she grabbed his head and tried to shove the nipple into his mouth.

Grinning, he let her win the little struggle, then began sucking even as he strummed his tongue across the nipple, his hand gently kneading the breast while he sucked, the other hand now tweaking her other nipple. "Oh, my goodness," she whined as he sucked harder.

Just before she came again, he abruptly pulled back for a moment, apparently startled.

"No," she whimpered, panting, trying to get him to continue, but he wasn't listening as he stared at the drop of white that slowly formed on the nipple, then slid down the side of her breast.

"She has..." Connie started.

" ... milk," Denise finished for her.

"What?" Paulette managed before she finally looked down at herself.

Jeremy slid his fingers down her breast, pulling toward the nipple. Another drop formed, which he licked off. "You're giving milk, Little Wife," he said, his voice teasing.

Paulette stared at the nipple for a moment, before, "Mom said she was lactating and it was a sign she was a Queen. But I'm not a Queen. I'm just fifteen – today. What's wrong with me?" she finished, an edge of worry beginning in her voice.

Connie and Denise looked at each other.

"Nothing is wrong with you, and no way do you look fifteen," Jeremy hastened to assure her, then licked another drop off her nipple. "It's a little like regular milk, just a whole lot sweeter, and warm. I guess I won't have to worry about getting up to warm up a glass of milk to drink when I can't sleep," he tried to joke to lessen her obvious worry. Not that I ever have any problem sleeping,  he added to himself.

Connie cleared her throat to get Jeremy's attention. "Uh, maybe Paulette is right, and Adriana did say she was lactating. Lillian and your dad think she's going to be their Queen, like Diana is Jeff's. You're an Alpha. Maybe Paulette is going to be our Queen."

"But," Paulette sighed. "I can't be a Queen. I'm fifteen. I don't know anything about life, or marriage, or being a Queen. I don't even know what a Queen does. I'm just a..."

But Denise put her fingers across Paulette's lips before she could get the word out. "Arlene is only sixteen, and she's a Queen. So why can't you be?"

"Besides," Connie added before Paulette could respond, "You heard what Diana said about a Queen's milk. She thinks it has pheromones in it to help bond the Alpha's wives together, and maybe do other things as well. Think about it; we haven't heard even one derogatory remark between any of the women here. Crap, at work, there's always something going on between some of the women. At least one of them is always bitching about one or more of the others."

"Guys as well," Jeremy added.

"Yeah," Connie agreed, "but it's not, uh, natural for this many women to get along without even a small hiccup..."

Denise put in, "And they're not meek, or zombie-like, or anything like that. They're always laughing, playing and having a good time. And ... I want us to be here as much as we can. I love being around all of them."

"Jeff talked to me about us all being part of his Alpha family. He's insistent about us spending as much time here with them as we can. He wasn't just being nice. He meant it. He said it was difficult for him to visit without making a spectacle of himself and his family with all the security, so he wants us to visit on a regular basis."

"Boob," Paulette said, putting her hands behind his head and pulling him toward her breast. "Discussion later – suck now."

-------

With the excitement of the birthday party, the shock of her last present (the dress) and Jeremy's proposal for them to be married in only a few hours, Paulette's mind and emotions had risen to near overload even before her brand-new husband began to make love to her. She had never even been French kissed until Jeremy did it to her. In addition to that, although she had nothing to compare him to, this was an Alpha – and enhanced Alpha. All she knew was that even his touch inflamed her. Nursing her breasts produced feelings and emotions beyond imagining, the orgasms mind-blowing. She had nothing to compare her self-induced orgasms to other than giggling girls' descriptions at school. But even with their, obviously exaggerated gossip, she was grossly unprepared for what had happened to her tonight.

Now, at last, Jeremy was nude and between her trembling legs. Still, she had only gotten glimpses of his cock, but even with those glimpses, she was certain it was way too big. But he's my husband, and I'll be a wife to him. A wife in every sense of the word.

Jeremy, knowing that Paulette was worried and uptight, surprised her by rolling them over until she was on top. "What..." she began.

"It would probably be better this way," he said. "Just take it slow; we have all night."

Paulette rose up to sit looking down at him, feeling his cock snuggled against her ass, her body craving his. "I ... I thought men wanted to take their, uh, mate – be above, on top, be in control."

Jeremy chuckled as he reached up to stroke her cheek. "That brilliant mind of yours again, huh? I bet you've read just about everything on the Internet that you could find about sex. And yeah, I guess we do like a dominant position. But remember, up until a couple of days ago, I was a virgin, too. And yeah, I read everything I could about pleasing my mates. Some of it works – some of it doesn't."

"Bull," Denise said. "You have yet to do anything that doesn't blow our minds, and you know it." Then to Paulette, "Rise up some so we can position his cock for you."

"Time for you to be a woman," Connie added.

As Paulette positioned her body, Jeremy distracted her by palming her nipples and massaging her breasts. She felt her nether lips spread more than they ever had as she pressed downward slightly. He's there. One push and my hymen is gone. She slowly wiggled her body a little, trying to get used to the stretched feeling, and in doing so, felt the head moved in a little.

She gasped when she felt pressure against her hymen. Oh, my goodness. It feels ... No use wimping out now. I'm a farm girl. Not some silly little wimp from the city. She unconsciously sucked in a breath, her mind made up. Best thing to do is to get it over with in a rush.

But she had telegraphed her intention to her brother, and he would not hurt her, or let her hurt herself, any more than was necessary. A half second before she dropped on his cock, his hands locked onto her hips, preventing her descent.

"What..." she started.

"Gently. Just ease down. When it becomes uncomfortable, stop until you feel better. Jeff said that Little One had made it so your hymen wouldn't hurt much. No use ramming my dick up yourself until you're ready for it. We have all night. Just take it at the speed you feel comfortable with."

He pulled her forward until he could again suck on her breasts, strumming his tongue across her nipple as he did so. The excitement and his sucking quickly brought on an orgasm. As she squirmed around during the orgasm, her hymen parted from the extra pressure she unconsciously put on it. His cock opened her pussy and pushed deep within her during that orgasm. If there was any pain, she didn't feel it, just a stretching of her passage that continued to heighten her orgasm until the head of his cock touched her womb.

With a warbling wail of ecstasy, she shivered and shook, the orgasm going on and on, ever heightening. Her world grayed out, her mind still focused on the cock inside her – her brother's cock. I'm a woman at last,  was her last coherent thought as her mind gave up from overload and she passed out, slumping onto her new husband's chest.

-------

It was late as Jeff sat in the living room, the only light from a dying fire in the fireplace and a bit of light coming into the big room from the partially darkened hallway beyond. To the Prime, the room could be bright as day, or muted with the darkness, as he chose. Since Little One had shown him how to boost his night vision as he tried to see into the ski lodge that day, he had learned much. Now, he did it almost automatically.

But the amount of available light wasn't what was on his mind as he stared out the big window at the snow-covered scene under the security lights outside. In his mind, he relived the trip down the mountain, as he had done several times since then. But this time, instead of dwelling on the near terror that his wife would be killed, he concentrated on what had kept them on the road.

The General had taken the Escalade away on a wrecker, the SUV shrouded under a tarp and Security's vehicles escorting it. A new Escalade sat in the inside garage, armored like its predecessor, of course.

The Prime got up from the recliner and set a straight chair near a small table before the big window. Taking a ballpoint pen out of his pocket, he placed it on the table, then went looking in a nearby trashcan. As he pulled an empty drink bottle out, the can's automatic lid tried to close on his hand and he remembered Billy's episode with the can. Smiling, he removed the bottle lid and put the bottle back into the can.

Back at the table, he put the bottle lid by the pen, then opened the table drawer to see what he could find. Rummaging around, he found a little key that probably locked the drawer. After putting the key on the table and lining the small objects up, he sat down to stare at them.

"Penny for your thoughts," his Queen said, walking up behind him and putting her arms around his neck. Before he could answer, she went on, "Your mates are waiting for you. The wedding has everyone ready to make love."

He guided her around to sit on his lap. After kissing her, he pulled back a little to look into her eyes. "I need a little time alone." As a frown of worry creased Diana's face, Jeff went quickly on. "Nothing is wrong. I'll tell you everything later. Now go tell our wives that I'll be there in a little while."

"You sure?" she asked, standing.

"I'm sure."



-------

Chapter 200


With a slight frown of worry, the Queen leaned over to lightly kiss her mate again. "My husband sitting alone in the dark worries me. Are you sure it's not something I've done?"

He squeezed her hand for a moment. "You treat me like a king. I'll discuss things with you later. But right now, I just need to be alone with Little One for a while. Okay?"

The Queen sighed as she stood looking at her husband. "All right, but I'm not going to let you forget this. I want to know what's bothering you, and I know that something is."

"I just need to solve a problem, Baby. I'll discuss it with you when the time comes." Swatting her on the ass as she turned to walk away, he added, "Keep that motor warmed up for me."

She stopped for a second to say, "I'll leave you to your problem, but..." she continued as she walked toward the door, "the motor is warmed up and ready. You just need to come take it for a drive."

She did accomplish one thing, he thought after his mate had left. She darn sure improved my mood. Problem is, I had much rather go with her than do what I'm going to do – well, try to do.

He started with the key since it seemed to be the smallest, but after concentrating for long moments, nothing happened. Sitting for a while, thinking, as he stared vacantly out the window, his attention eventually returned to the key on the table in front of him. A wrinkled brow progressed into an intense frown that eventually turned into a trembling body as he mentally strained, but still nothing happened.

Massaging his forehead, For crying out loud,  he thought to himself. I kept the Escalade on the road during those high-speed turns, crumpling up the sides, but now I can't even move a small key. This is bullshit.

Again, he stopped to stare out the window into the darkness, sweat beading his brow and a headache starting. What the fuck did I do? Did that trip down the mountain destroy whatever I had in my brain that allowed me to do this? I can't even make the damn key wiggle. The Ship told me to exercise and use the ability to develop it. Ha, some exercise this is.

I need help,  he sent to Little One.

{{{ Prime, I am unable to assist you to move the key. I can only assist in controlling the power of the dimensions that your mind taps into, and that only peripherally. }}} he interpreted from the jumble of thoughts the little alien sent, but he wasn't sure of his interpretation.

{{{ Perhaps, you could accomplish what you desire if you remembered how you felt as you entered the first curve. }}}

I've been trying to do that, he grumped. All I've accomplished is a little sweat and the beginning of what's probably going to be one hell of a headache.

{{{ Possibly, your luck might change if you tried to make the pen spin. }}}

Luck? he thought to himself. Maybe I interpreted her wrong. She probably meant something to do with possibilities,  but he concentrated and did his best to visualize the pen spinning round and round – nothing.

At least it could fucking wiggle a little bit,  he grumped again to her. It doesn't move in the slightest. Hell, I could blow on it and accomplish more.

{{{ You must manipulate the power of the dimensions to do this. }}} Little one offered.

I thought it was you that manipulated the power. I thought you boosted what I sent out.

{{{ In a way, I did. I opened the door to that power and channeled it to you. You used it to boost what you sent out from your brain. I guided you a little. But I used my own energy to allow the dimensional forces to come to you. Maintaining that ... gateway quickly used up my energy, and while I hold the gateway open for you, I can't use the energy myself. }}}

Jeff got up and got a soft drink, returning to sit and sip the drink while staring at the items on the table. I don't have a clue what she's saying. Then with a sigh. Okay what the heck did I do? I've done my best to try to relive that trip in my mind. I can almost feel the sway of the Escalade as I hit that first curve too fast. I can see the snow piled along the side of the road by the snowplow, hear the terror in Diana's voice. Why in the fuck can't I spin that fucking pen laying on the table a few feet from me?

Frustrated, he put the drink on the end of the table and glared at the offending pen. It was an ordinary, inexpensive, click ballpoint that Helen bought by the gross for her class and the rest of the family. Spin, damn you. But still the pen didn't move, nor did any of the other objects.

Shit, this is a bunch of crap. I pushed so hard on the sides of the SUV that I dented it, but I kept it from going off the road. Now I can't move a key or spin a damn ballpoint pen. This is beginning to piss me off.

His temper started to build, though he attempted to rein it in, but the more he thought about the pen not moving, the angrier he became. Spin, you son-of-a-bitch,  he seethed. Spin!

There was a loud "wham" combined with a "crack" of splintering wood, followed a millisecond later by the sounds of ricochets as the pen disappeared from the table, slammed into the top of the window frame at an angle, hit a glancing blow to the mantel over the fireplace, then a double ricochet off a corner to eventually bounce off the hallway doorframe and drop to the carpet, a small, smoking bubble of melting plastic.

"Shit!" the Prime exclaimed, chunks of the window molding raining down as he knocked his chair over backward in his haste to rush to the smoking remains of the pen before it could melt into the fibers of the carpet. He flipped it onto the hearth and stood staring at the resulting blob, absently rubbing the stinging fingertips where he had touched the hot plastic.

{{{ By my calculations, the object exceeded what you refer to as Mach 5, by a considerable margin. I do not think it was designed to withstand the air resistance it encountered, let alone the g-forces of that magnitude }}} Little One offered, a smugness in her mental voice.

Since when did my Healer start using sarcasm? he vaguely wondered. Then to Little One, No shit, Sherlock. Got any idea how I can tone this down a bit? No wonder I dented the sides of the Escalade. How do your people learn to do this?

{{{ All the knowledge I have is from my database. Remember, I was created by the Ship inside that mountain. }}}

And... 

{{{ Some Primes – and as I have said, there are only a few of them – can manipulate matter with their minds. But from what I can determine, the ability varies. There is certainly nothing in my database about a Prime pushing anything to five times the speed of sound, particularly in such a short distance. So, how did you do it? }}}

I don't friggin' know.

{{{ You still have the bottle cap and the key. You could try again. }}}

Yeah, and I barely missed taking out the window with that attempt,  he thought to her as he eyed the missing chunk out of the big window's frame. Diana's gonna be pissed if my next attempt blows out that window. I think I need to continue the experiment in the indoor range, or better yet, outside. And I also think I need to sleep on this first.

-------

All of the Alpha families, with the exception of Fred and his women, were sitting around a big table in the smaller of the dining rooms when Connie, Denise, a blushing Paulette, and a bedraggled-looking Jeremy walked in.

Diana got up to take Paulette's hand. "Let's go to the Jacuzzi deck. We have breakfast waiting for the three of you there," she said, referring to Paulette, Denise and Connie.

In a quiet voice, "Okay. But first I need to do something." Quickly moving to her mother as Adriana and Van stood, the teenager hugged Adriana, fiercely. "Thank you, Mom. And you too, Dad," she continued as she turned to hug him just as hard. "The two of you have made me the happiest..."

"Woman," her mother offered with a smile.

" ... uh, woman, in the world," she said as the blush came back. Continuing, "I know this decision was hard on you, and I know that you don't want to lose your daughter. I promise that will never happen. I'll make you proud of me, just watch and see."

"We already are," Van got out with a choked voice.

Adriana grabbed her daughter's hand. "All right, time to go check out the Jacuzzi and hear about your wedding night."

But Paulette was suddenly blushing furiously again. "What?" she gasped out. "No way can I talk about that in front of my mother. But I guess I do need to soak some," she finished with a strangled giggle.

"Oh, come on," Connie said as she grabbed Paulette's other hand. "You heard Denise and me tell about our wedding night, and your mother was there with you. Then you heard your mom and Lillian talk about theirs. Besides, this is your time. Everyone wants to hear about it, even your mother."

"I don't think..." Paulette was saying as she was hustled out the door by the women, Adriana grinning from ear to ear as her daughter sputtered about talking in front of her.

A blushing Jeremy sat down in the vacant chair near Jeff as Susan brought food for the new groom. "Still have any of the pussy cream left?" Jeff asked after Susan left to be with the other women.

"Uh, yeah, and I guess I do need to use some this morning." Then staring hard at Jeff, "How in the heck do you take care of fourteen women?"

Jeff took a sip of his every-present coffee. "I guess you, your dad and I need to have a chat. There are some things that I've found out that an Alpha can do that I haven't had a chance to brief you on just yet."

-------

After Jeff's chat with Van and Jeremy, Dave pushed a serving cart laden with coffee, soft drinks and breakfast rolls into the living room. The men moved chairs into positions near the big window, grabbed what they wanted from the cart, then sat to talk as they waited for the women. Dave leaned back, took a bite of his breakfast roll and glanced toward the outside. Suddenly, his eyes focused on the chunk of molding torn out above the window. "What the heck?" he mumbled past the mouthful of roll as he came to his feet.

His eyes tracked downward to see what was left of the missing piece of window molding on the carpet beneath the window. With a practiced eye, he scanned the rest of the window frame near him, then glanced about the near area of the room. When he didn't detect anything, he expanded his search. "There," he said as he saw marks on the walls by a corner, then a mark on the mantle. Finally, his eyes stopped at a blob of black plastic on the hearth. A questioning look on his face, he turned to Jeff.

"Yeah, it was me. A little experiment that got a bit out of ... uh, hand, you could say."

"What's the thing on the hearth? Is that what did it?"

"A pen," the Prime said, lifting a duplicate partway out of his shirt pocket.

Dave spun to look at the chunk missing from the window frame. "A pen did that? No friggin' way."

"It had a hard life," Jeff tried to joke. "And besides, I suspect it was the ball of air the pen was pushing that did most of the damage."

"Air?" Dave said, a question in his voice as he frowned at Jeff.

Jeff chuckled and motioned for the Alpha to have a seat. "Sit. I'll tell you – all of you – what happened, and before I begin, I know you're going to have a heyday teasing me about it, but just remember that payback can be a bitch," he finished, trying unsuccessfully to glare at his Alphas.

Tate, a lot more familiar with ricochets than the others, was already up and exploring the supposed trajectory of the pen. After a moment, he stood staring at a smear of black plastic on the door facing, then looked at the blob on the hearth, a question on his face.

Jeff, knowing what Tate was probably thinking, said, "It stopped there by the door. I flipped it onto the hearth before the melting plastic could stick to the carpet."

Tate dropped to his knees, running his hand over the carpet by the door until he stopped and looked more closely after finding a small, faint smear of black plastic stuck to the carpet. Wiping his hand over the area, he brought the hand to his nose, smelling the acrid smell of burned plastic. "Shit," was his only response.

Jeff let out a chuckle. "About what I said."

Tate and the other Alphas were all staring at Jeff. "All right. All right. So I need a little practice, but I must learn how to do this."

"Do fucking what?" Dave got out.

"Uh, you know. Move things around with my mind. Telekinesis. I'm trying to do what I did with the SUV to keep it on the road."

The others just looked at him. Tate came back, picked up his coffee and regained his seat. "Well, other than a parlor trick, and maybe keeping your SUV on a curve as you rocket down the mountain," he said, obviously joking, "and ... excluding what Diana is going to do to you when she sees what happened to her window frame..."

Jeff interrupted with, "Yeah, I do need to clean up the mess," he agreed. "Maybe she won't notice the frame."

"Won't notice a chunk the size of my fist gone from right above the window?" Dave chuckled. "And I assume she's coming in here with her guide dog leading her?"

Jeff let out a sick chuckle. "Yeah, I get your point. Kinda obvious isn't it?"

"Kinda," Dave said, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Looks like a chunk of molding just exploded."

Nevertheless, the men moved the table and a couple of chairs out of the way, while Jeff got a vacuum. Art and Quinton had picked up all the destroyed molding pieces they could find and had put them in the trashcan. After Jeff ran the vacuum, the men put the furniture back.

Jeff looked over at Dave. "We can't get your people in here to do this..."

Dave chuckled. "Oh, I'll fix it." Motioning to the chunk out of the molding, "I don't think there's any way to logically explain how a chunk of the molding just exploded, so I agree; a crew is out. I have some leftover pieces in the basement. I'll replace the whole section of molding. You good on miter joints?" he kidded Jeff, knowing he wasn't.

Going on before Jeff could answer, "Okay, you can be my gofer then," Dave joked. "We need the miter saw moved up here while I go find a piece of molding long enough. We also need a couple of stepladders, a drop cloth and my big box from the truck. Need to move the furniture away from the window, too."

Shortly, Tate, Van and Jeremy went to bring in a drop cloth and Dave's toolbox from his truck, while Jeff and Art went to bring the miter saw up from the basement. Shortly, Dave found a long piece of molding that had already been stained and finished. By the time the women came back down the hall from the Jacuzzi, they heard the last couple of "paps," as Dave put in the final finishing nails with the nailer.

"What's going on?" Diana asked as she and the other women stepped into the living room.

Every single Alpha looked at her with a blank and totally innocent expression on his face.

"I smell burned plastic," she commented, looking suspiciously at her husband.

"You sure?" he asked, glad that he had put the remains of the pen in the trashcan. He was also very, very glad that Art had hurried out the back with the old piece of molding.

"Just tightening up a loose piece of molding," Dave casually said as he pretended to try and shake the new piece, then stepped down from the ladder.

Diana knew he was lying – knew they all were, but she didn't know exactly what they were lying about.

Raising one of her eyebrows, "Uh hmmm," she skeptically said as she cast a last glance at the all-too-innocent looking group of Alphas.

When the women had left, Dave grinned at Jeff. "When Frank gets back from his honeymoon, you need to thank him for keeping spares in the basement of almost everything we used in building this place."

"Got that right," Jeff agreed with a sigh.

-------

Tate, along with his wives, Virginia, Elizabeth, Rachel and Cindy, had left to go shopping at a mall in Denver. The Sheriff had been reluctant to go until Rachel whispered in his ear about the new negligées they were going to buy, and Virginia told him he could kill some time in the sporting goods store looking at rifles while he was waiting. Van, his wives, and Jeremy and his wives had returned to the farm, but had promised to be back soon. Art and the two nurses had gone to their suite, probably to do what newlyweds do.

Jeff and Dave were the only ones left in the living room. Dave propped his feet on an ottoman and grinned at Jeff. "You know you got by the thing with Diana by the skin of your teeth."

"Who says I got by with it?" Jeff sighed. "I'll have to confess tonight, otherwise she'll eventually figure it out and give me grief for not telling her. Of course, she'll be more worried that I could have hurt myself ... and technically,  I didn't lie to her."

"Yeah, well, I was tightening that molding up, new piece or not, but she might not agree with our assessment of the situation," Dave finished with a chuckle. "Anyway, you damn sure could have hurt yourself," he added. "Want to tell me just what the crap you were doing?"

Jeff let out another sigh. "Trying to learn to control whatever the hell I used to keep the SUV on the road."

"And did you succeed?"

"Fuck if I know. I guess I did finally get the pen to move," he said with what was probably the understatement of the year, "but ... any idea where I can get a few ball bearings?" Jeff dropped the non sequitur to a startled Dave.

"Ball bearings? Uh ... no offense, Boss, but what the fuck do you want with ball bearings?" Then the dawning, "Oh, shit. A plastic pen wasn't good enough? You want to do it with steel now? Do you know what a ball bearing would have done in here?"

"Uh, yeah, I have a pretty good idea. But we're not going to do it here. So, back to the question at hand. Where do I get a few ball bearings?" Before Dave could answer, Jeff went on. "Before I had to contend with Security, I could just jump in a vehicle and go wherever I wanted. A scrap yard would do just fine right now. But with Security, it's a major undertaking to even go twenty miles down the mountain, let alone drive to Denver. So, how do I get a few ball bearings?"

Dave sat thinking for a moment, then seemed to remember something. "Say, we had to replace a wheel bearing on one of our cranes a few days ago as it was going to a jobsite. The bearing is a big mother. I asked the mechanic if the crane dealer would take the old bearing back for a rebuild, but he said they wouldn't, so I tossed it in the back of my truck to go on the scrap pile. It's a big bearing, probably has half or three quarter inch steel balls in it. Will they be too big?"

Jeff was shaking his head. "I don't know. I don't know much more about this than you do. We'll give them a try."

Chuckling, Dave got up. "Let's go out back."

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff and Dave stood in the outside garage as Dave put the big bearing in a vice. "Safety glasses," he said, then picking up a chisel and big hammer, he eventually broke the side of the old race. A small crowbar and a few grunts later, allowed the three-quarter inch steel balls to begin spilling out. As he wiped the grease from each one, he laid it out on the counter. When he had them all cleaned up, he waved a hand in a flourish. "There you go, oh fearless pen launcher."

Jeff glared at him for a moment. "Need something to hold a bearing up, unless you want to volunteer?" he asked with a mostly straight face.

"Not hardly. And who says my thumb won't go with that ball?"

Jeff just grinned back at him. After thinking for a second, Dave continued, "It's crude, but I know how to get this done. If it works, we'll rig up something better. Here, hold these," he said as he handed Jeff a half dozen of the steel balls. "I'll be back in a minute."

A couple of minutes later, after stomping the snow off his boots, Dave returned through the back door of the garage holding a limb about two feet long and an inch or so in diameter that he had cut from a tree. With his knife, he squared the end of the limb off, then cut a "V" into the end.

"Hold it vertical and press the ball into the 'V.' It should stay long enough for you to do your thing."

Jeff took the stick and looked at it.

"Come on, Jeff. I did say it was crude. If it works, I'll make you something a hell of a lot more sophisticated. Besides, we can go out the back, then walk on over to the range. Very little chance of anyone seeing us."

"Security will see us," Jeff reasoned.

"Yeah, but they have to put up with you, whether you do dumb shit or not. Diana, on the other hand..."

"We'll sneak out the back," Jeff quickly agreed. "I guess I can pretend this is a walking stick."

Dave wasn't sure whether the Prime was kidding or not, since the stick was too short to be a walking stick, but led the way to the range.

After they got there, Jeff took a bearing out of his pocket as Dave stood grinning. "I'll go stand behind that big tree," he said, motioning. "No offense, but judging from what happened in the living room, you haven't exactly gotten the bugs out of your aiming system yet."

"I wasn't aiming," Jeff muttered darkly. "I was trying to make the damn thing spin."

"Oh, that's just hunky-dory," Dave allowed. "On second thought, maybe I need to get behind that rise way back there."

"You're kidding, right?" Jeff asked as he pushed a steel ball into the 'V.' "Now, what do you want me to shoot at?"

"Something up there – way up there," Dave added as he waved his hand toward the side of the mountain several hundred yards away.

While Dave was trying to decide whether to stay or not, Jeff raised the stick at arm's length in front of him, bringing the steel ball to eye level. Before Dave could comment, there was a loud, rolling"Crack" and a man-sized rock on the mountain exploded into pieces, a cloud of debris and dust rising above where the rock used to be, as the echoes of the noise came drifting back from the adjacent mountains.

"Shit. Jeff, shiiittt!" Dave got out as he stood staring as pieces of rock began raining down on the area where the boulder had been.

After a moment, Dave realized that Jeff was already subvocalizing on his radio as he talked to Security.

"Good shooting, ol' buddy. Damn good shooting. You blew that rock to kingdom come."

There was a long hesitation before Jeff quietly said, "I was shooting at the tree a hundred feet to the right."

"Huh? Oh. Oh, shit."



-------

Chapter 201


"We're in a world of shit," Dave said as he looked toward the rear of the Retreat just as Kayla slammed the back door open, gun in hand, Art right on her heels. They both jumped the steps and headed toward Jeff and Dave at a dead run.

Even as Jeff heard the ready helicopter lift off, Arlene came out the back with Jeff's other wives following in a pack, everyone armed. "Oh, Shit!" he quietly said.

"Can't you stop Security?" Dave asked a lot louder than he intended.

"I tried, and I'm still trying," he answered, distractedly, as he continued to talk on his radio. Then after a moment, "They're coming, anyway," he groused.

The vicious-looking ready helicopter came roaring over, its crew obviously not having bothered with stealth mode. The craft made a circle of the area, then slowly turned in the air as the crew continued to scan for danger. Apparently, they took into account the invisible ship that was sitting a little to the right, though, and maintained enough altitude to clear it.

Dave stood eying the helicopter. "That thing makes me nervous," he said, his voice barely audible over the roar of the machine.

As the helicopter moved off a short distance, they could hear straining engines racing up the driveway.

Shortly, they were surrounded by Security, and Jeff's relieved, but pissed off wives, as he tried to explain that he was just conducting an experiment. Turning to Lieutenant Mayfield, "Dammit, Lieutenant, I talked to dispatch as soon as I blew up the damn rock. I told them everything was fine, but you came on, anyway."

"Sorry, Colonel. But I have my orders. Direct, face to face orders from the General himself. We respond to anything out of the ordinary. Your instructing us to not come has no bearing on response. Your wives could be hostages and you could be forced to tell us to stand down because of threats from perps to kill or hurt you or your wives."

The dark cloud on Jeff's face lifted a bit, but he still wasn't pleased.

Mayfield, in desperation, continued, "Come on, Sir. What would you do if our roles were reversed? And ... we both know if I let anything – anything – happen to you, the General would ... well..."

Diana grabbed her husband's head, pulling him down and kissing him hard for a second. "We're going back inside, but you're still in trouble," she whispered in his ear. Motioning to her sister-wives, the women, shivering from the cold, since none had taken time for a coat, trooped toward the back door. Art, after a grin and wink at Jeff, turned to go with them. Kayla stayed, and Jeff tucked his coat around her to protect her from the wind, holding her close.

Mayfield said something on his radio, and the helicopter turned toward the ski lodge. The remaining Security officers headed back to their vehicles. In a few moments, all that remained of Security was Lieutenant Mayfield and two of his troops.

"Want to see what that looked like from the security cameras?" Mayfield said as he handed Jeff his helmet.

The video started as Jeff placed the ball bearing on the stick and raised it to eye level. There was a brilliant flash of light, accompanied by a loud, rolling "crack" of sound that seemed to happen simultaneously with the ball bearing disappearing and the rock high up the mountain exploding, then a second or so later the sound of the rock exploding drifted back. Jeff assumed the "crack" was caused in part by the bearing breaking the sound barrier, but he also suspected that some of the report was the result of the surge of energy from the dimensions. The video cut off as the last pieces of the boulder rained down.

Little One said dryly in his mind, {{{ If you had pushed a little harder, we would have been measuring the ball's speed as a percentage of the speed of light. If ... we had survived the ball's contact with the mountain, or its passage through the air, for that matter. That ball might well have created its own nuclear fusion as the bearing slammed into the air molecules on its way to the rock. Our mountain could well have been a radioactive hole, instead. I would not suggest pushing any harder than you just did, at least, not within the atmosphere. }}}

Jeff, having barely nudged the ball bearing with the energy he had tapped into, began to wonder. Setting the video to run, he put the helmet on Dave's head as Mayfield, unaware of the mental exchange between Little One and Jeff, offered, "Might be better to use our rifle range rather than tearing up the mountain in your backyard. That big crevasse and the sound baffles we've installed muffle a lot of the sound, and a few more chunks of rock there won't make any difference at all."

Jeff noted that Mayfield didn't even ask how Jeff had exploded the rock with the ball bearing.

After the video shut off, Dave handed the helmet to Kayla so she could watch the video, then turned to Jeff. "That shows more than I saw firsthand. And ... I'm impressed with the helmet. It's definitely technology that's..."

" ... probably fifty years in Earth's future," Jeff finished for him.

"Maybe more," the Lieutenant expanded.

After watching the video, Kayla handed the helmet back to Mayfield.

Jeff took one of the hardened steel balls out of his pocket and handed it to the Lieutenant. "Think you can get me some more ammunition like this? I need them ASAP. I could probably find a place on the net that sells them and get them shipped overnight, but..."

"No, Sir. No need to do that. I'm sure the General would prefer that we furnished your, uh, ammunition." After scrutinizing the steel ball for a moment, "Could I keep this, Sir?"

"Sure."

"I'll contact the base and get someone started on finding these."

"Make sure they're hardened steel like the ball bearings are." After hesitating for a second, he continued with, "Hmmm, tungsten carbide might even work better. Perhaps we should try some of each."

"Yes, Colonel."

Mayfield hadn't even asked how many of the balls Jeff wanted, but he realized that Mayfield would order enough, and then some.

"I need an assortment," the Prime said after thinking a moment. "Probably from three-eights of an inch to two inches. And I need something else set up on your range." As he went on to explain, the Lieutenant stood nodding, wondering what his Colonel had in mind.

-------

As Jeff walked into the living room, Diana jumped up and came over to him, reaching up to pull his head down so she could kiss him. "We need to talk," she said in a very serious voice as they broke the kiss and she played with the front of his shirt, absently tracing the stitching with a fingertip.

He wasn't sure whether she was pissed, or had her feelings hurt, but he looked down at her and grinned, anyway. "Yeah, we do, Babe. Yeah, we do."

Before she could say anything else, he picked her up and draped her over his shoulder. "Uump," she grunted as her weight pushed his shoulder into her belly. Then as she tried fruitlessly to push herself up, "Doggonit, Jeff. I'm serious, " she got out, exasperation prominent in her voice.

"Me, too, Babe," he chuckled as he turned and walked into the hallway.

Fighting against his strength was useless, as she was well aware, but she wanted him to explain what had happened in the living room. All of the men were avoiding the subject, and she was tired of their vague answers. "Jeff, dammit, I want to know what happened out there, and while you're at it, I want to know what happened in the living room. The women are asking, and I don't know a damn thing. I'm your Queen. I'm supposed to know what's going on."

"All in good time, Fair Lass. All in good time," he continued, obviously trying to project a great mood, despite his worries about his Queen being pissed at him.

When she kicked and squirmed on his shoulder, he whacked her on the ass and left his hand on her, rubbing the lick in.

"Jeff, dammit," she hissed out. "I am not going to let you distract me with sex."

When they got there, he reached a hand down to open the outer door of their suite, keeping his other hand clamped firmly across her hips in case she tried to squirm free while he was distracted with the door. "I could dump a few pheromones and you would."

"And that wouldn't be fair, and you know it," she grumbled, wondering if he were going to do it, anyway. The few, half-hearted licks he had given her ass, in addition to her feeling his strength as he casually held her on his shoulder, had already gotten her to thinking that they could have their talk after he had made love to her. Get your mind back on the things at hand,  she admonished herself just before he walked through into the bedroom and casually tossed her onto the bed.

"Jeff," she squealed as she sailed through the air to land on her back. The top she had on certainly displayed her braless breasts, and her bounce on the bed caused them to shake and move around, evidenced by where Jeff's eyes were now locked.

"I want to talk to you, and I'm a bit pissed at you..."

Redirecting his eyes to her face and grinning, he interrupted her with, "We replaced the molding above the window because I accidentally blew a chunk out of it when I tried to make my pen spin on the table."

While she was digesting that, the look on her face priceless, he slipped her shoes off, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor, then sat on the side of the bed to remove his own shoes. Sitting back against the pillow, he pulled her alongside him, putting an arm around her and kissing the top of her head. "I didn't want to lie to you, but I didn't feel like going into detail then, so I just avoided the issue."

"And outside?" she asked, turning to him, a bit of anger left, but curiosity overriding most of it.

He took one of the ball bearings out of his pocket and handed it to her. "One of these."

Incredulously, "This is what made all the noise?"

There was a hesitation, then, "Uh, it and the contact it made when it hit a rock way up the mountain ... at a considerable velocity."

She sat for a minute thinking about what he said, then, "Jeff, what is this thing? It looks like a big, shiny steel marble."

"It's part of a worn-out axle bearing that came off one of Dave's cranes."

Diana handed the steel ball back, watching him slip it back into his pocket, and sat up farther so she could turn and look her husband fully in the eye. "You took that and..."

"I put the bearing on the end of a stick, held it up in front of me and ... pushed it toward the mountain with ... a little more velocity than I expected."

"You pushed it toward the mountain? A 'little' more velocity? A 'little' velocity made all that noise?" she asked. "And just how in the hell did you push it toward the mountain?" she finished sarcastically, wondering if he were teasing her.

Jeff cleared his throat, "Uh, we'll talk about how in a minute, but Little One said something about measuring its velocity as a percentage of the speed of light if I had pushed the steel ball much faster. It developed quite a bit of kinetic energy, as it was, obviously." He didn't bother to add anything about Little One's warning.

Diana whacked him on the chest with a palm, then unconsciously rubbed her stinging hand as she said, "If that rock had been close to you, you could have killed yourself, and ... I'm not going to be put off. How did you do that? Push that thing?"

"Uh..." At Diana's glare, he went quickly on. "Little One is teaching me to open a ... gateway, uh, a pathway to the dimensions. I focused the dimensional power behind the steel ball and sort of pushed."

"'Sort of pushed, '" she mimicked. Then after a moment, her suspicions building, "Something like that happened in the living room, too, didn't it? You had to do something to the window molding because of it?" At his nod, "Back to the fact that you could have killed yourself," his Queen reminded, determined.

Seeing the look on her face, he quickly went on, trying to distract the direction her thoughts were obviously taking. "Let's not make a mountain out of that proverbial molehill, and besides, we need to talk about something else, or someone else, as the case may be – Hope."

Diana's face changed, softened. "Okay, we'll table the discussion about the explosion for now, but it's not over. About Hope, you need to start thinking about her wedd..."

"No."

"No? No, what?" his Queen said, frowning.

"None of you seem to listen to me about Hope, and admittedly, I almost gave in..."

"'Gave in? Gave in to what?"

"To accepting Hope as my wife."

"But she's Jennie's sister. She would be an excellent addition to your wives. She's a very talented artist; she's intelligent, beautiful, sexy, and..."

"No!"

"But Jeff. I nursed her. Some of my pheromones are now a part of her..."

"So? She'll be a little more attuned to our wives, to all of our immediate family. What's wrong with that? She's Jennie's sister, as you just pointed out, so there's nothing wrong with her being close to our family. That doesn't necessarily mean she has to be my wife. And having her 'attuned' to you isn't any different from your relationship with any of the other Alphas' wives. You're the clan Queen. They're all – we're all – attuned to you."

Diana was shaking her head. "But you said you loved her."

"And I do,  just as I love all the women here. If need be, I would die for any of my Alphas' wives, but to split hairs, I'm not in love with her. I feel for her, care for her, hate what's happened to her, and ... I will make damn sure that diplomat and his sidekick pay for what they did to her, and won't get a chance to do it to any other girls, either. But all that doesn't mean that I want her for my wife. Oh, I know she'll make a good – no, a great wife – but not for me. Diana," he continued, his frustration rising, "I already have fourteen wives. And before you say anything, I wouldn't change that for the world." He hesitated for a second, then went on, "There might be a point in the future when I'll take another mate, but that time isn't now. Besides, I think she's in love with Art, and he with her."

Diana was shaking her head, her face flushed. "I think you're wrong. I'm sure she has feelings for him, of course. After all, he saved her life, but all you would have to do is nudge her with a few pheromones and she would be yours..."

"Di!"

Diana sighed and looked down. "All right. All right. I'll do whatever you say about this, but I still think I'm right."

He took her chin gently in his hand, lifting her face up so he could lock eyes with her. "After she and Art have had time, and if nothing comes of it, we'll revisit this subject. In the meantime, I'm going to have a talk with Art, and I think you need to talk with Hope. I'm just about certain that she thinks you expect her to marry me at some point. She might feel obligated to do just that. That feeling of obligation needs to go away."

"Shit, you're not asking much," Diana grumped.

"Nothing my beautiful Queen can't handle," he said, distractedly, as he pulled her top up to begin nuzzling around her breasts.

"Darnit, Jeff," she hissed out, knowing what he was doing. "You know I can't think with you doing that." Then, "Oh, shit," as his mouth locked onto a nipple and began to suck. She slumped backward to lie flat on the bed, her milk already flowing into her husband's mouth, her arms locking around his head as the first orgasm approached. "Oh, Jeff," she sighed.

-------

The Prime knocked on the door of Art Hanes' suite. A few seconds later, the young agent opened the door. Barefoot, clad in a tee shirt and jeans, he greeted Jeff, "Hey. Come on in."

As his guest entered, Art commented, "I'll get the girls."

Jeff put a hand on his shoulder. "No need. I just came to ask if you would like to take a snowmobile ride with me."

"Without my wives?"

"Yeah, just the two of us."

"Anything I've done wrong?" Art responded, worried.

"What?" Jeff said, staring at Art. "Of course not. I just haven't been out riding for a while, and we've never been out, just the two of us. If I take Arlene, it usually becomes a contest, unless I specifically forbid it – and sometimes even then. Let's just take a leisurely ride to the top of the mountain where the wind turbines are. I need to take a close look at them before winter sits in completely. I'm thinking about putting in several more generators, but I may have to wait for spring to do it."

"Sure, I'd love to go. Let me leave Bobby and Sandra a note. They're taking a nap." The blush that accompanied that statement was all Jeff needed to realize just why the nurses were taking that nap.

As Art sat to put his shoes on, Jeff continued, "Sounds like a winner. We'll stop in the basement to get our winter gear, then head out."

-------

The two men had worked their way up the mountain as high as they could go with the snowmobiles. Then on foot, they had ascended the last bit to sit on a boulder and look at the scenery spread out below them.

"It's beautiful up here," Art said, "but desolate. The road coming to your place is the only way up this side of the mountain, right? And there isn't an access from the other side, is there?" he finished, pointing to the north.

Jeff let out a chuckle. "That's the reason the General likes this place. If I'm attacked, my attackers have to come up the road, or helicopter in from any other direction. Oh, a team that's determined enough, and with enough training, could come in overland, but it would take days and a lot of rappeling. Security could pick them off at leisure. At worst, it would just be good target practice.

"Another option would be a HALO jump (HALO – High Altitude Low Opening) in the middle of the night. Still suicide. The weapon emplacements would end that in less than a second, and the plane they jumped out of. With the weapons those emplacements represent, there probably wouldn't even be anything left to hit the ground."

The men sat quiet for a time, then, "Do you think whoever this is will try another attack like the last?"

Jeff felt a chill go up his spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold wind. "That attack almost fucking succeeded, and they shouldn't have been able to get past me. I was a-fucking-sleep in the living room with a cleanup crew in the building. There's no excuse for that, and my lackadaisical attitude almost got all my wives killed. If it had not been for Little One, Arlene would certainly have died. Shit, I've dreamed of that day so many times that..."

" ... But the attack didn't succeed, Jeff," the young agent intervened. "Despite their surprise attack, you and your wives killed a group of armed mercenaries. Now, there's no way another attack of that kind could ever succeed." Then, half-joking, "I suppose, if they were determined enough, someone could bring a tank up the road..."

"Be hard to keep out of the news, but the tank would be molten slag ten miles from here, and that's if Security waited until they might have a chance to hush things up before they disposed of the tank. The General is serious about security."

They sat for a moment, both thinking about an attack, before Jeff went on. "The General has offered a bonus if any of his people can think of an attack that Security does not already have contingency plans for. Lieutenant Mayfield found out about it and offered his people the same bonus if Security already had a plan in place to foil anything the General's people came up with. So far, Mayfield has paid his people the bonus twice – from the General's budget, of course. Someone is going to have to think hard to come up with something Security isn't prepared to foil. And all of that doesn't even consider the Ship."

"That's pretty damn smart of the General," Art responded. "If his own people can't come up with a viable way to attack that Security hasn't already anticipated, who can?"

After a moment, Art turned to point down to the seemingly deserted area behind the Retreat where the Ship sat waiting. "I guess the General would be foolish not to furnish all the security he could muster, given that he's protecting the only person who can command her. But ... I don't think we came up here to talk about security, or your wind generators. Am I right?"

There was a gust of wind that blew a shower of snow at them. Both men ducked their heads to protect their faces from the icy crystals. When the gust was past, Jeff let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I suppose you are." Then after a pause, "Uh, Art, I have a ... somewhat delicate subject to discuss with you."

"Yeah, I know, Jeff. My wives and I are leaching off you..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jeff almost snarled. "And ... I believe we've already discussed this. My place is your place, and it's way past time you understood that. You're my brother. My brother Alpha, if you live with us for a hundred years, it won't be long enough. Now it's time to put that subject to rest once and for all."

"But dammit, Jeff. I'm not contributing a fucking thing. I have some money put back, and now that I have access to my back pay, I could help out around here, but you won't take a fucking dime. I tried to talk to Diana about transferring money to her food account and she almost literally threw me out of the kitchen. Sandra and Bobby have tried, too, but any of your wives we've approached have gotten pissed as soon as we have mentioned it. I was raised up to pay my own way..."

"And in a way, that's what I need to talk to you about," Jeff interrupted.

"Wha..."

"Just listen, and forget the bullshit about giving us money. I have it practically coming out my ears, but what I want to talk about is something entirely different. You heard what I told Hope, right?"

"Yeah. Damn right, and I want to be part of it."

Jeff grinned at a red-faced Art. "Well, that answered my first question, but now there's more to discuss. The FBI likes lie detector tests, don't they?"

Art, somewhat taken aback by the sudden change of subject, hesitated, then after a couple of seconds, "Sure. With a skilled operator, a lie detector can frequently narrow down an investigation. But what's that got to do with taking care of those two asswipes who raped Hope?"

Jeff thought for a moment as he tried to word his question with the view of a possible lie detector test in Art's future. "Hypothetically, if you went with me on a mission, you could be party to what the law might consider a major crime. What would happen in the future if you had to take a lie detector test from your agency and you were asked if you had ever committed a felony, or been involved in one in some way?"

Art looked hard at Jeff for a moment before answering. "If I wouldn't answer, or wouldn't take the test, they would fire me. If I did answer and lied, and ... it was detected, the agency would probably initiate an investigation. If I didn't cooperate with that investigation, I would be fired. If I did cooperate and they found out that I had committed a felony, or was involved in one, I would probably be fired and prosecuted."

"About what I thought..." Jeff began, but Art wasn't done.

"The FBI and their lie detector be dammed," he practically snarled out. "If you go after those guys, I want to be there. Those animals need to be deleted from the gene pool, and I'm just the man who would love to do it."

Jeff was hard put to hold back a grin. "You need to think about this, Art. One of these days, we might manage to ... eliminate all the bad guys who know about your involvement in this slaver thing. You could go back to work, and I know you like your job."

"Maybe so, but I'll give it up in a heartbeat just to be part of the mission that takes those two sadistic assholes out."

"Think about it for a while, anyway," Jeff tried.

Art looked away for an instant, obviously striving to calm himself. Turning back to Jeff, he endeavored to make his Prime understand. "I don't have to think about it. I've obsessed about it ever since that gunfight. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. I'll fucking dig the grave for their bodies, if that's all I can do, but whatever, I want to be there."

"Then you shall be," the Prime returned. "But we have to bring you up to speed with the basic functions of our helmets, equipment and my team." Jeff almost asked the young agent again if he was sure he really wanted to risk his career by going, but the fire in Art's eyes stayed the question. There was no doubt. Suddenly, Jeff was very glad he had the conversation with his Queen.

"Something else we need to talk about – a delicate matter, I guess you could say."

Art let out a chuckle. "'Delicate?'" he questioned. "More delicate than what we've just discussed?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."



-------

Chapter 202


..."Something else we need to talk about – a delicate matter, I guess you could say."

Art let out a chuckle. "'Delicate?'" he questioned. "More delicate than what we've just discussed?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

"So?" Art said, raising an eyebrow.

Jeff couldn't decide how to start. After a moment of silence, Art grinned at him, realizing that Jeff was having difficulty initiating the conversation. "So, the guy who somehow propelled a steel ball up a mountain and destroyed a rock so spectacularly, the guy who easily handles having fourteen wives, is suddenly having problems talking to a brother Alpha. Come on, Jeff. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"You should marry Hope," Jeff blurted.

"What..." Art started.

"You saved her from being a sex slave, saved her life. You should take her for your wife. She's intelligent as hell; she's beautiful, and besides that, I think she has feelings for you. You shouldn't let her get away."

Art just sat staring at Jeff. "But ... I thought..."

Jeff suspected that Art was going to say something about Hope becoming Jeff's wife, and the Prime wanted to make sure that Art didn't think he was Hope's second choice, somehow. "I think she loves you, or at least would if you gave her the chance. You two have done a great job with the two sketches she's finished. The General is currently surveilling the diplomat, as I've already told you. Sooner or later this guy is going to screw up and give us an opening to take him out, and do it in a manner that won't throw suspicion on black ops. The General already has some ideas about that, and so do I. In the meantime, I think you should make time to be around Hope on a more ... personal basis.

"Talk to your wives about her. I'll bet they'll be behind the marriage one hundred percent. There's something about her that ... I don't know. I just think you'll be pleased if you decide to make her your wife."

"But I thought..."

"Thought what?" Jeff interrupted, not allowing the young Alpha the opportunity to voice the idea of Jeff intending to marry Hope. "I've believed for some time now that the two of you were perfect for each other..."

"She was afraid of me to start with," Art quietly responded.

" ... Was afraid of anyone who was male, or at least, she didn't want to be around any male. Who could blame her? But she does fine with you two being alone when you're working on a sketch. I'm telling you, I've seen the way she looks at you. Ask her to do something with you – with the three of you, if you like. Have a private dinner, or supper as we call it, in your suite. Or have a small swimming party, just the four of you. Take her and your wives up here, if you want," the Prime said, motioning with his hands to their surroundings.

"Tell Bobby and Sandra that you're thinking about Hope for another wife. Bet you they'll be all for it in a heartbeat."

"Jeff, are you sure you don't..."

But before Art could complete the sentence, Jeff interrupted again. "What do I have to do with it? Oh, I'm legally responsible for her until she's eighteen, but we both know that judge will never question anything about Hope. He was tickled to death to keep her out of the system. All you have to worry about is how the two of you feel about each other, and how your wives feel about Hope as another wife."

Art was a sharp guy and realized that Jeff had redirected the conversation each time he (Art) had drawn close to commenting that Hope might become another wife for the Prime.

"But we knew you had given her a place to live. You went and got her, pulled some strings to get her out of Georgia..."

"We've just given her a place to live," Jeff insisted, stressing the word. The women, yours included, have done more to make her feel at ease – at home, if you will – than I ever have. Now it's time for you to spend some time with her. I'll bet she will jump at the chance to be with you. Just remember to go slow. Her reaction to things might not be logical at times. That part, that caution, comes from Helen. Since your wives are nurses, they will probably understand a lot about that. Talk to them about Hope."

Art sat quietly for a moment. Realizing that Art was holding something back, Jeff decided to be blunt, "So, what are you not telling me?"

Art picked up a small rock and tossed it against a nearby boulder, obviously thinking. Just as Jeff started to speak, Art began again, "Bobby and Sandra have been bugging me about going after Hope. They say she'll make me a fine wife. I kept telling them that you would..."

"No. I feel almost like ... her father. I love her, but I can't see myself taking her to bed." He made a negative gesture with his hand before going quickly on, "Oh, she's definitely wife material, but not my wife. Listen to your women."

"Shit, I thought she was going to be yours ... Okay. I'll think about it. And yeah, I do have feelings for her."

"Good. Now let's change the subject a bit. Are there any more of the slavers that you remember that you think a sketch would help with?"

Art shrugged. "Not really, I did see a few other people that appeared to be something other than just lowlife muscle, but I have no idea what their function is in the organization."

"No matter. The sketches might still help either the General's or the FBI's investigation – maybe both. You never can tell. If you can remember enough about them, why not work with Hope to come up with what sketches you can? While you're doing it, you could invite her to go snowmobiling with you and your wives, or have your wives come in during one of the sketching sessions and ask Hope to go with you for an outing. I would suggest asking her to go as soon as a sketch is done, before she has time to think about it and back out."

There was a moment of silence as the men seem to study each other, then, "Jeff, are you sure about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be sure?" the Prime quickly responded. "She's had a shitty last couple of years in her life. Time for those nightmares of hers to be replaced by dreams of her Alpha. And you're that Alpha. I'm dead certain she's interested in you."

"Maybe," Art reluctantly agreed.

"Something else, maybe even a little more delicate than what we've just discussed. If things work out for you ... Well, Hope was repeatedly raped, and Little One, uh, can ... make her whole again, if she wants. Uh..."

Art just looked at Jeff as he struggled with the sentence. "Whole again? Do you mean..."

"Yeah, Little One can make her the way she was before ... Put her hymen back, even. If that's what she wants. Might have your wives, uh, very diplomatically ask her if she wants that. Little One has healed her, so there's nothing physically wrong with her, but having her hymen back might be something that would appeal to her. Maybe not, but it's a thought. It can happen if she wants it to."

"Jeff, we're kinda jumping the gun here..."

"No, we're not," the Prime insisted. "You sit down in that room with her, do your thing to produce the next sketch, then ask her to go riding with you. You and your wives bring her up here, sit and talk. Lean over and gently kiss her. Let nature take its course. Hey, you know what to do. I guarantee she'll respond to you. But before you get married, have your wives ask her if she wants her hymen back. Trust me, virgins terrify me, and I've only had two in my life. But unless I miss my guess, Hope needs to feel ... virginal again. Somehow, she needs to put the rapes behind her. I think she needs to get married, give her husband her virginity, maybe – factual virginity or not."

"I don't know what to say, Jeff. I really thought that she..."

But again, Jeff spoke up before Art could complete his sentence. "Forget that. The two of you are made for each other. I suggest you go talk to your women."

The men rode around for the next hour or so. Art, obviously stalling, wanted to try several new areas before Jeff finally talked him into going back to the Retreat.

When they finished cleaning the snowmobiles, and had parked them, Jeff turned to Art. "One more thing. If you are going with us to take out the diplomat and his guard..."

Art interrupted with, "You know I am."

" ... then you need to go with Kayla in the morning. I'll talk to the Sergeant and have him teach you the basics of our helmet functions as well as getting you some time on the range with the pulse rifle. You have to understand though, that chances are you will only be an observer on the mission – particularly if my idea works out. But I won't take you with us unless you're up to speed on, at least, the helmet's minimum functions, and you can defend yourself with the rifle if need be."

Art grinned back at the Prime. "I need to be doing something, anyway. Sure beats sitting on my ass worrying."

"I'll tell the Sergeant to use Kayla to help teach you. You'll need a partner to practice using the radio frequencies, anyway. She's still working through the more advanced usages of the helmet, so a refresher on the basics won't hurt her. Ever shot a rifle?"

"Basic familiarization course with the FBI, plus I've hunted some with a 30.06."

"Good start. Hopefully, we won't have to use the pulse rifles, or any firearm, as far as that's concerned, but we'll go prepared for the worst. Never hurts. Understand though, Art, if things go the way I hope, all you'll get to do is watch. I would love to go in and blow this guy away, but he's a diplomat. His death needs to look like an accident. An accident that no one else can be linked to – no one."

"Just let me be there. Let me see that asshole die. I want to be able to tell Hope that I saw him croak. That's all I ask."

Jeff slapped his Alpha on the back. "Go talk to your wives. They need to be up to speed on the thing with Hope."

-------

Diana walked in the entrance of Hope's personal area in the new school. "May I come in?"

"My gosh. Sure Diana."

"I brought us a couple of cokes. Want one?" the Queen asked as she handed a soft drink to the girl.

"Sure, thanks," Hope answered, worrying that she had done something wrong. Although Diana had her own study area and was taking college courses, she had never before come to visit in Hope's personal area.

"May I sit?" the Queen asked as Hope unscrewed the top off her drink.

Startled that Diana would bother to ask, Hope motioned to the extra chair, the teenager's worry cycling up a notch at the beautiful woman's formality. "Certainly." Then as Diana sat, "Uh, what ... can I do for you?"

Diana reached over and put her hand on top of Hope's for a second. "First of all, you can relax. It's me that's a little uptight, and I'm obviously projecting it."

That comment did little to calm the teenager's nerves.

"Crap," Diana mumbled barely audibly, as she absently opened her drink and put it on the table. Standing, she pushed the comfortable chair closer to Hope's, sat, then leaned forward to take the girl's hand in hers for a moment. "I'm doing this all wrong, because ... well, because I don't know how to do it right," she finished in a rush. She couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. "Look. First off, you have done absolutely nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong. There's just something that I need to discuss with you and I don't ... know where to start, let alone know how."

Amazing both of them, Hope managed a small giggle. "Well, as they say, why not just start from the beginning?"

The two looked at each other for an instant, then both smiled.

"Oh, delicacy be dammed," the Queen said. "There's no other way but to say it. You need to marry Art. You'll be sixteen in a few days. Heck, Paulette just turned fifteen. She's now married to Jeremy and we both heard what a wonderful time the three of them had last night, and it's obvious they're head over heels in love with each other."

"Marry?" Hope whispered. Of all the things she had expected Diana might say, this was certainly not one of them.

But Diana went charging on. "Certainly. I think the two of you have feelings for each other. I suspect Art would have done something already except for..."

" ... my background," Hope interjected.

"Uummm, yes, but I think I mean it in an entirely different way than you do, at least judging by the tone of your voice. I think he's holding back because..."

But Hope went on, not listening to Diana. "He wouldn't want me. No man would who knew how many men I've fucked," Hope said, her voice fragile.

But Diana was shaking her head. "Darnit, Baby, comments like that are why I was nervous about starting this conversation. To begin with, those men raped you. You didn't want to be there, did you?"

"Of course not."

"Did you want to fuck them?"

"No. I hated it, but I had to or my ... father," she said, fairly spitting out the word, "would beat me if I didn't."

"So, we've established that you didn't 'fuck' any of them. You were raped. That needs to be a settled thing, Missy. I don't want to hear you deriding yourself because of what those pigs made you do. All right?"

"Yes, Ma'am." But they both knew it was far from over.

The Queen retrieved her drink, took a sip and returned it to the table beside Hope's, reached over and pulled the girl to her, encircling the teenager in her arms, the woman rubbing the girl's back. Hope, although silently crying herself, was starting to feel Diana's tears dropping onto her neck.

Hope pulled away long enough to grab some tissue, handing some to Diana, and wiping her own eyes, too.

"Diana, regardless of what you say, I'm not good enough for Art. He risked his life. No, he did more than that, he, for all practical purposes, gave his life for me in that motel room. It's a miracle he lived. I'm used merchandise – contaminated with their ... stuff. No decent man will ever want me."

Diana stared at Hope for several long seconds. "What about me, hmmm?"

"What about you?" Hope asked, puzzled.

"If you're 'used merchandise – contaminated, ' what am I?"

Hope, not understanding, said tentatively, "You're the Queen – beautiful. Any man would want you. And you're married to the Prime. I don't understand what you mean."

"Look, sit back down and I'll tell you a story." When Hope moved to sit in her seat, Diana took another sip of her drink, returned it to the table and asked, "Think my husband loves me?"

Hope looked at her, wondering what the Queen meant. "Sure he does. He worships you. He never walks up to you without kissing you, or at least touching you in some way. And you do the same thing to him. The way you two treat each other is right out of a storybook."

"But just after we moved out here, I was deathly afraid he was going to divorce me – and he had just cause."

Hope took a breath to deny what Diana had said, but it was obvious the Queen was very serious. "That's ... hard to believe."

"I let a guy – well two guys, actually – fuck me." At Hope's incredulous look, Diana went on. "Oh, there were some extenuating circumstances. Little One had enhanced Arlene and me, and, well, Little One didn't know a lot about human physiology at that time, although she thought she did. Anyway, what she did heightened our sexual desires – really heightened them. But ... that's only an excuse and not a valid reason for my actions. I was also coerced and threatened with exposure, but again, those are only excuses, not reasons to cuckold my husband."

Hope sat staring at Diana, unable to say anything.

"Anyway, the situation became untenable, but about the time that I got the backbone to stop things, regardless of what happened, my husband found out and ... took care of the situation..." Diana stopped as she saw the look on Hope's face. "No, there aren't any bodies, but the guy probably won't be interested in any ... uh, sex for a long time to come, if ever."

Tears sprang again to Diana's eyes as she fought to keep her voice level. "There's more. He, neither of them, used a condom, and I was scared to death that I was pregnant. At the time, we didn't know that Little One had put our reproductive systems on hold, and I was already a few days late. Later, she further enhanced us so that we no longer have to put up with periods. I wasn't pregnant, but that didn't moderate what I'd done."

"That's what Arlene was referring to when she said something about seducing Jeff for the first time, isn't it? She said the two of you conspired to do it to save your marriage, but I was afraid to ask for details."

Diana nodded her head. "Yeah, we ... coerced him into keeping me, but, like you were thinking about yourself, I believed I was damaged goods. But my husband took me back – forgave me, although I still think he hurts from time to time. When I say something to him about it, he just reminds me that he's making love to thirteen other women, including my daughter, and he has no right to say anything about what I did in the past."

Both the girl and woman took another sip of their drinks as they sat and thought for a moment. "So, considering your comments about how Jeff acts toward me, do you think he considers me to be damaged goods?"

Hope, who had been staring down at her feet, snapped her head up. "Of course not. He's..."

"Then why do you think Art, or for that matter, any decent man, would think you're damaged or contaminated goods, hmmm?"

But Hope fired right back. "Because there's a difference in screwing a couple of guys, compared to how many I've been with. Whether I wanted to screw them or not, the fact is, I did. I participated. At first, I tried to lie there and stare at the ceiling. That got me tortured by the guy I did it to, and my ass of a father beat me and slammed his fist into my ... vagina. I could hardly stand up for days. After that, I fucked them. Oh, I tried to send my mind somewhere else, pretend I was doing something else, but there was only so much of that I could manage. I had to get involved to some extent, and sometimes ... I came. I hated it when I came for one of those assholes, and most times I didn't, although I had to pretend, anyway. But sometimes, my body would respond to what they were doing, no matter how hard I tried not to.

"I usually cried when I sat on the commode and their stuff ran out of me. I'm spoiled goods, Diana. No matter what you say, I'm spoiled goods. Their come has been in me. Been in me many times. Art would never want me, and no one else will either. I fucked them, Diana. I fucked them. I thrust back at them. I got on my hands and knees when they told me to, and shoved my pussy back at them from that position, too. Some of them fucked me in the ass. It hurt so bad I screamed, but they just laughed and fucked me, anyway. Sometimes, they put me on my back with my legs over their shoulders and slammed into me so hard it hurt terribly. Some of them made me do things that make me sick to even think about.

"So, you're wrong, Diana. Art would never have me if he really knew what happened, and I can't lie to someone as nice as him – not to someone who almost died to save me. I just can't. If he even thought about making love to me, I would have to tell him about me. Tell him things that would forever make him sick to just look at me.

"And you're right about one thing, though. I do look at him in a special way. I can't help that. He's a good looking guy, and ... there's something about him that makes me want to hold and kiss him." Hope stopped for a second, her face and neck turning pink as she thought. "I fantasize about him," she quietly admitted. "Even when I was first out here and at my worst and just wanted to be away from men, I couldn't help myself. I thought about him. But I can't let myself think seriously about him – not in that way. I'm..."

"You are not spoiled goods," Diana almost snarled, raising her voice a little more than she expected to. "Have you told Helen about this during your sessions?"

"No, not really. I wouldn't have told you except for your talking about marriage to Art."

Diana sat looking at Hope for a moment, "We'll talk more about this, but first, I want to clear something up. Earlier, you said something about background, and I agreed that was probably right, but I meant something entirely different to what you did. What I was talking about was your, uh, interactions with Jeff and myself. I nursed you, and frankly I probably gave you something other than my breast milk. I think that all Queens have pheromones in their milk. I really have no concrete evidence of their function, but I suspect they bind my sister-wives and me together. Maybe bind any female to me to some extent. I know that they have an effect with my sister wives, but Jeff thinks they also interact with his pheromones and mental attractants to further bind our family together. Most is conjecture, but ... I've felt very ... close to you since that night when I nursed you.

"Jeff says he suspects you and I will always have a special bond because of my nursing you. Does that bother you?"

Hope smiled back at the Queen. "Not in the least. I don't know if it was my nursing your milk, or just because you've been so good to me, but I'll always love you."

"I love you, too, Baby. At any rate, we also have some background because Jeff and I came to Georgia to get you. In effect, you became our daughter, and in my heart, you always will be. That's the background I was talking about, when you took it the wrong way."

Hope wiped her eyes again, then, "But the fact remains, I screwed a bunch of men. I'm a whore. I can't marry Art, even if he wanted me. I can never marry any decent man..."

Startling Hope, Diana shot to her feet and dragged Hope to hers, the Queen engulfing the girl in her arms, both females now crying hard. After a time, Diana sniffed, pulled back a little to look Hope in the eye, then using one of Jeff's favorite expressions, said, "Bullshit." Then louder and with feeling, "Bullshit!"

-------

Jeff had just sat down in the living room to await supper when Selina came marching in, her kitten on her shoulder.

As she climbed onto the Prime's lap, "How's my princess?"

Selina smirked. "Princess? I most certainly am no Sleeping Beauty."

"Oh, but I think you're plenty pretty enough to be," he laughed, kissing her on the cheek.

"Acquisition of boobs would be requisite prior to the initiation of romantic rituals."

"Oh, but they'll come – come far too soon to suit me. I'll be waiting with my gun in hand when boys come to visit you."

"Boys shall never come to visit me. You shall be my husband. Well, you shall in the eventuality that I obtain beauty and acquire boobs," she giggled.

"Oh, you'll be pretty. Know how I know?"

"You have acquired another talent. You can now foretell the future," she teased.

"No, but since you're already pretty, how could you grow up to be not pretty." With that, he tickled her. When she jerked, Billy almost fell off her shoulder, but he teleported to the window sill to sit twitching his tail as he stared out at the snow.

After a few minutes of tickling, Jeff stopped to let Selina catch her breath. "I haven't seen you teleport much lately. The new wear off?"

Selina turned serious. "No. But our Queen opined that frequent teleportation exhibited disrespect toward my companions. Several of us would embark toward some destination, whereupon, I would teleport forward. My contemplation of the Queen's critique resulted in the realization that it was accurate. I now teleport only when no one is near. My Queen compared teleporting to someone rushing past a person confined to a wheelchair, then taunting that person for being unable to maintain an identical pace."

"Ouch," Jeff said with a grin.

"Ouch, indeed," Selina agreed.

Before they could say more, the puppies came running in, immediately spied Billy, and galloped over. Billy stood on tiptoes and hissed at them.

"Billy!" Selina scolded. "Behave yourself. The puppies wish only to play."

Billy teleported to a nearby table, but soon found out that the low table was only barely out of reach for the puppies when they jumped. "They look like they're on pogo sticks," Jeff chuckled as the small dogs bounced up and down.

Billy quickly caught on, and slapped at the dogs as they bounced within range. One such swipe caught one of Spike's ears. There was a "yip" from Spike and again, the play turned serious. The puppy redoubled his efforts on the next jump. This time, he managed to jump high enough to catch his front legs on the table top. As he struggled to pull himself onto the surface, Billy seized the opportunity and popped Spike again. There was another "yip" followed instantly by a snarl, but the puppy had no purchase and fell back onto the carpet.

Billy stood looking over the edge as Spike jumped again. This time, just as his legs landed over the edge, Sugar jumped hard upward and slammed into Spike's rear end. The impetus of her lunge at the exact instant Spike needed a boost, pushed him, scrambling, onto the surface of the table.

Snarling, the puppy charged the kitten. Billy, startled by the dog suddenly in his face, reflexively jumped backward – straight off the small table, and ... into a charging Sugar, hell-bent on retaliation for the kitten scratching her buddy.

Spike, looking over the edge of the table and seeing what was going on, launched himself – which might not have been his absolute best move under the circumstances. He did get Billy from above, but in the process, he wiped out Sugar as well. Billy seized the opportunity, leaving with a "Pop," of a small volume of air returning to the place the kitten had so recently occupied.

Yes! Sugar told Spike as they regained their footing.

Although Spike was limping a little, if the two puppies had been human, they would have high-fived.

Jeff and Selina were now on their feet. "I should have stopped them," Jeff said, "but I had no idea Spike would manage to get on the table." The Prime snatched Spike up to examine him, and the puppy seized the opportunity to lick Jeff on the nose.

Sputtering, Jeff looked at the puppy. "Looks like you have the fastest tongue in the West, but I don't need any doggie sugar."

When Sugar barked, Jeff looked down to see her sitting at his feet wanting to be picked up like Spike. Laughing, he reached down to pick her up, too. "Two bug-eyed little rats," he teased. "How are we going to manage to get that cat to like you?"

Diana, standing quietly in the doorway, thought, Seems like the puppies managed with you. Maybe they will with the kitten.



-------

Chapter 203


3:30 A.M.

Art slid out of bed, and a moment later snapped a lamp on at the other end of the room.

"What's wrong?" Sandra asked, sleepily.

As he sat in a chair to pull on his pants, "Going running with Jeff, remember?"

"What's happening?" Bobby mumbled a second later. "Who turned on the light?"

"I did, Baby, but just the one lamp. I didn't mean to wake you two."

Sandra glanced toward her sister. "He's going running, remember?"

"But the weather people said it was going to snow," Bobby groused, half-asleep. Turning over, she pulled the sheet over her head and mumbled, barely audibly, "It's nuts to run in the snow on a mountaintop. It's..." Whatever she was going to say faded away as she drifted back to dreamland.

A few moments later, Art came over to kiss Sandra, then reached to touch Bobby's sheet-covered shoulder for a second.

"Don't bust your butt," Sandra quietly said as she spooned with her sister-wife, closed her eyes, and joined Bobby in sleep.

In the bathroom, Art splashed cold water on his face. I can't believe I'm doing this. And I tend to agree with Bobby. What was I thinking when I told Jeff I would run with him this morning? Oh, well, I did pretty well in Quantico on our five mile runs. Surely I haven't lost all of my conditioning.

As he left their suite and started down the hall, These shoes feel odd with the screws in the soles. I hope I haven't ruined a good pair of running shoes. But Jeff and Kayla both say the screws work fine. We'll see.

-------

When Jeff and Kayla came down the back hall at four, Art was sitting near the door waiting for them. "It's still snowing," he said as he stood, zipped his jacket and pulled the hood over his head. "This feels awfully light for fifteen degree weather. Maybe I'm just not as acclimated to the temperature as you two are."

Jeff, having advised Art on what to buy to run on the mountain, let out a chuckle. "You'll freeze your butt off the first little while with that light Gore-Tex outfit, but as soon as your body starts warming up, the suit will hold your body heat in for you. A mile down the road, you'll have to unzip the jacket to keep from overheating."

As they stepped out onto the back stoop, Jeff commented, "The weather man seems to have hit it again; looks like about four inches of new snow already, and it's still coming down pretty hard."

"We still good to go?" Art asked, more than a bit skeptical of running with it snowing.

"Sure. We've only had to abort once. About a mile down the road, it began snowing so hard that security was having difficulty seeing us. The lead driver was afraid he would run over us, should one of us take a tumble, so we came back and ran on the treadmills. If need be, Security makes a pass on the road with the plow, then does the driveway. The shoes with the screws in them take care of what snowpack is left, and visibility is still decent this morning, so, yeah, we're still good."

Security's snowplow had just finished its turn and started back down the driveway as the three negotiated the snow-covered back steps, the tread heaters having fallen behind for the moment. Jeff let out a chuckle as he waved to the driver. "Arlene bitches because they plow out the drive for Kayla and me so early that she doesn't get to do it much. I keep telling her that all she has to do is get up at three-thirty and she'll beat them to it, but she isn't that interested in driving the pickup."

As Kayla giggled softly, Art kidded, "Must be nice to be a Colonel."

The three started off at a slow jog to warm up as Jeff responded. "It has its good points, and its bad points. Every time I start to do something, there tends to be someone who runs up and tries to do it for me. Sometimes I wish I were still a Lieutenant. Since we came back with the Ship, the General won't even let me lead a mission – well, at least, not off-world."

"And what does Diana have to say about your going off-world?" Art asked, already guessing the answer.

Before Jeff could respond, Kayla injected, "Suffice it to say she isn't pleased with our husband leaving this world – period."

Art grinned behind his ski mask. "So, if you don't mind my asking, how can you be in the military on occasion, and be a civilian, at other times?" he probed. "You darn sure looked military when you and your team came to rescue us."

Before Jeff could answer, Kayla spoke up for him again. "Our Prime is a special case. He's still military when he needs to be, or the General needs him to be."

"Well, that's clear as mud," Art laughed. "But whatever, I'm darn glad you pulled us out of that crap in Georgia. Well, I guess that's an understatement. We would all be dead if you hadn't shown up with your team. And ... in addition, I wound up with two beautiful wives out of the deal."

"And maybe another in the near future," Kayla added.

Art looked over at Kayla as they turned into the second curve of the drive. "You know about that?"

But Jeff answered, instead. "I don't have any secrets from my wives."

"We're all rooting for you," Kayla added.

Art shook his head, a grin spreading across his face.

They jogged on, but just before they reached the bottom of the drive, Art glanced at Kayla. "So, you're going to train me to use a helmet?"

"No way," she quickly responded. "The Sergeant will train you. I'll be there to assist. Just to assist. I don't want the Training Sergeant pissed at me, so please don't say anything about my training you. And besides, I'm barely ahead of you on the combat helmet's functions. It takes a while to learn – trust me on that."

"But..." Jeff injected, "under combat conditions, the mental aspects, though hard to learn, save time and free up your hands when time might very well save your life or that of others. And about the training. When you're in the Training Sergeant's class, whether it's classroom or the range – anywhere he's training you – he outranks anyone in the class. And that includes me, or even the General, for that matter. Outside of training, rank is rank, but if he's training, he's boss. I know you would never be disrespectful, but I just thought you should know.

"In addition, some of the things you've learned about shooting a rifle will transfer to the pulse rifle. Some things won't. Listen carefully to the Sergeant. Do whatever he says and do it his way – precisely his way. What seems logical in a classroom, or even on the range, might not work nearly as well under combat conditions. So, again, learn things his way. It might save your life. You don't have to be an expert with the rifle – that takes a while. But I want you to be, at least, proficient with it. Shit happens. Pay attention, and ... practice. We may go after this shithead tomorrow, day after, next month – day, night; I don't know. But when we go, it could well be in a hurry."

Glancing at Kayla, the Prime went on, "Tell the Sergeant to let Art bring a camouflage suit back with him so he can practice getting it on and off." Then back to Art, "We might well use them when we go after the diplomat, and you might not have a lot of time to get your outfit on, and ... they're a bitch the first few times you try."

"And the hundredth," Kayla said, dryly.

Jeff let out a chuckle. "That, too."

As they reached the bottom of the drive, they stopped as they met Carter standing in the middle of the road waiting for them, "Morning, Colonel, Lieutenant, Mr. Haynes."

"Morning, Trooper," Jeff and Kayla said in unison.

"How did you know past the mask?" Art questioned Carter who was now pulling his own mask on.

Carter chuckled. "You put your mask on standing on the back stoop. Security had already identified you and told us who was coming this morning."

"Well, I guess that explains that, but how about calling me Art, like I said when we were introduced at the wedding."

"Okay, Art. I'll try to remember. Everybody mostly just calls me Carter."

"Let's hit it," Kayla said, "I'm freezing my butt off just standing here."

-------

Art lasted three miles before exhaustion forced him to stop. Embarrassed, he got into the lead SUV, expecting to be teased about dropping out so early. He needn't have worried. As he was pulling his mask off, he was welcomed and given a bottle of water.

Kayla, Carter and Jeff picked up the pace. Carter dropped out a little past the five mile marker, but Kayla hung in until mile seven before joining Art and Carter in the lead vehicle. As Kayla unzipped her jacket and took her mask off, she took a swig from the bottle of water given to her by one of the Security troopers. Art sat staring out the front. "How does he do that?" he almost whispered as Jeff brought his pace up to his normal running speed.

Hearing him, Carter responded. "Bad enough his going downhill at that pace, but he does it going back uphill. On his short day, he runs ten down and ten back for a total of twenty. On his longer days, he runs fifteen down and fifteen back. The only time he slows down is the first five or so when we're with him, and his cool down when he's almost back to the Retreat."

Turning to Kayla, Carter went on. "I need to start running at a different time. You're already well beyond me. I know that you're holding back so we three can run together for those first five. I saw how you picked up your pace when I dropped out. It's not fair for you to have to hold back for me."

But Kayla was shaking her head, "No you're not, Carter. When you quit after the first five, I put everything I had into it for the next two miles, and Jeff was just easily running ... almost loping, effortlessly, along beside me. As soon as I quit, he took off. Don't you dare quit running with us. If you do, it will be just me holding Jeff back, and I'll start feeling way too guilty. I mean it, Carter. Don't you dare quit."

"But I'll never be any better. I'm too damn big to run fast – or far. And the Colonel..."

"Wants you with us, so big or not, don't you dare quit."

"Is that an order, Lieutenant?"

"What? Of course not. But I don't want you to quit."

After a moment of silence, "Okay ... if you're sure,  I'll hang in there for a while."

"I am."

Carter continued with, "I do pretty well with the rest of the team. Well mostly," he admitted, "but..."

Kayla reached over to tap him on the shoulder so he would look at her. "Jeff is a Prime. Nobody else can do what he does. Have you heard either of us say one derogatory thing about your running?"

"Well, no. Actually, both of you have encouraged me, but..."

"And you won't ever hear anything bad. Jeff won't compete with us. He doesn't have to. Surely you've run with him before."

"Oh, he used to run with the team back when he was a Lieutenant, and even then, he held back. We all knew that, but watching him run down this road at his own pace is ... damn near demoralizing. He runs like a ... deer," he finished, deleting the adjective he almost used, "and I can't seem to get any better."

"That he does," the trooper driving said as he eyed the lone figure in the beam of his headlights, the swirling snow sometimes making Jeff seem like a ghost.

"And another thing," Carter went on, "I sound like a bull elk running on this snow, no matter how I try to put my feet down quietly. You, Lieutenant," he continued, talking to Kayla, "are pretty quiet, but the Colonel is darn near silent running on that snowpack. He's always been so quiet on missions that he sometimes seemed like a ghost. He's crawled up beside me on more than one occasion when I was lying hidden watching aliens. I didn't know he was there until he put his hand on my shoulder, almost giving me a heart attack, and that was before we got the invisibility camouflage. But nobody can run totally quiet on this," he said, motioning to the road in front of them, "but he does it anyway. Maybe part of it is how much I weigh..."

"He weighs a lot more than you think," Kayla commented. "Oh, there isn't an ounce of fat on his body, but it's more than that. We tend to play a lot," she said, her face beginning to flush when she realized what that sounded like. "I mean tussle with each other," she corrected, making herself blush worse, but she quickly went on, anyway. "Playfully hitting him, or running into him, is like hitting a wall. I think that his being a Prime goes a lot further than we realize. He's truly... different."

"Well, I haven't been around him nearly as long as you two have," Art commented as he nodded toward Jeff in the road in front of them and continued, "but I've never seen anyone run like that. Of course, I've never seen anyone blow up rocks with a ball bearing, either," he finished with a chuckle.

Carter turned to look at them, "I watched the vid when I got back to the ski lodge. But half the team was on the firing range when it happened. We heard the explosion and the radio traffic. By the time we were out of that crevasse and half-way back, the Lieutenant told us to stand down."

"Scared the crap out of us, too," Art said, "but I was impressed with Jeff's wives. And Kayla here," he finished, nodding at her, "passed me in the back hallway like I was standing still. That's when I decided that I needed to take up running again."

"Oh, I did not," Kayla tried to deny. "I didn't catch up with you until you were almost to the back door."

Art grinned at her and continued, "Anyway, within seconds of the blast, all Jeff's wives were armed and out the back."

"We practice," Kayla quietly said, "a lot. We have weapons hidden everywhere. Diana says we'll never be caught like we were before. I don't even have to encourage them to practice on the range. The Queen is adamant that all Jeff's wives practice, and she or Arlene is right there leading us. She's even let me be the instructor a couple of times, at least for the younger girls, but I still can't shoot a Glock as well as she does. And Arlene is getting fast. She still can't outshoot Diana, but the gap is narrowing."

Kayla continued to chat with the two Security troopers in the SUV while Carter and Art slumped back in their seats to take a nap, both exhausted.

-------

Art entered their suite walking like an old man. "I didn't expect you two to be awake," he commented to Sandra and Bobby as they both got up from the couch to come and hug him. "I stink," he cautioned, but that didn't faze them.

When Bobby's turn came to kiss him, "We waited to take our shower with you."

Art eyed his women, appreciating the way they filled out the thin robes they wore, then let out a sigh. "Don't expect a lot out of me. That run really kicked my ass."

"How far did you go?" Bobby asked as they escorted their husband into the bedroom, each with an arm around him and a breast pushed against his side.

His cock decided it wasn't too tired, and began to thicken.

"Uh ... I'm ashamed to say I staggered through only three miles. I didn't think I had lost that much conditioning, but obviously I have. It's only been a couple of years since I've run much, but this morning kicked my ass. That last assignment ... well, I have a lot of catching up to do. And Jeff runs like a deer. He walked back into the building not even breathing hard after running twenty miles in the snow at a pace that doesn't even seem human. I'm thinking about sticking with the treadmill until I can do a little better. No use making a bigger fool out of myself."

"And Kayla?"

"She held back for me for the three miles. After Carter dropped off a little past five, she and Jeff took off. I thought that was fast until she quit. Then Jeff kicked in the afterburner..."

"And?" Sandra said.

"He isn't human," Art responded as he sat on the bed to pull off his running shoes.

When Sandra and Bobby stared at him, Art laughed. "Oh, I'm just kidding, but as far as I'm concerned, this morning has put new meaning to the word Prime."

After they had undressed and were all in the shower together, Bobby slid a hand down Art's hard biceps. "Do you think there is really anything to what Jeff says about Alphas?"

Art stuck his head under the water to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. "What about them?"

"Oh, you know. About Alphas long ago maybe having things they could do – powers – that modern people have lost? You couldn't do what you did last night, before you were enhanced, could you?"

"You mean about touching you while I was making love to Sandra, and your having an orgasm, too?"

A blushing Bobby responded with, "Yeah, for one thing. Or pushing something with your mind."

Art turned his head a little sideways to look at her as the water continued to spray onto his head. "I don't know," he quietly said. "What other answer is there but that those powers have atrophied over the years? Atrophied from non-use. Maybe we reached a point that we didn't have to worry about an animal stalking us, so after time, we couldn't hear, see or smell as well as we used to. Maybe not be able to run as far or as fast, either."

"Your body is hard," Sandra said as she ran a hand down his chest. "Our experiences are probably skewed, since touching men has mostly just been something we did as we worked on patients, but even so, there have been a number of athletes through our intensive care unit in Atlanta. They were muscled up, but their muscles didn't feel like yours do."

"So, how many men have you taken showers with, other than me?" Art teased.

"None," both women said as one.

"And you know it," Bobby finished for them.

"The enhancement didn't exactly pass the two of you by, either," he responded as he reached out a hand to caress perfect breasts on each of his wives.

"Oh, we see and hear better, too," Sandra responded, pushing her breast into his hand, "but our bodies haven't responded to the enhancement nearly the way yours has."

But Art was shaking his head, "You might be surprised. Without trying to be gross, I suspect some of your talents are hidden a bit more. Now, I'm certainly no authority on the female body, but, uh ... Oh, shit, there's no way to say it without saying it. You two feel different when I'm inside you than any woman I've been with – way different. Not that I've been with many. If I weren't enhanced, and Jeff hadn't taught me some things, I wouldn't last ten seconds after I pushed my cock up either of you."

As Bobby and Sandra blushed, he went on, "The two of you need to take a really good look in the full-length mirror when we get out of the shower. There isn't the smallest blemish on either of you – none. Your breasts are absolutely perfect, also, and each is a perfect match to its twin."

"But neither of us is giving milk."

"So? Do either of you want to?"

The two nurses looked at each other, but Bobby spoke for both of them. "No, not really."

"Have you ever nursed a woman? Uh, a woman who had breast milk?" Sandra quickly added, her face beginning to blush, "Other than your mother when you were a baby, of course?"

"No," he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Do you want to?" Bobby asked.

Art let out a chuckle. "Never really thought about it. I sure like to suck titties, though."

"Oh, that's a total surprise to us," Sandra said as the women giggled.

"Our nipples have doubled in size since we got married," a giggling Bobby responded, "and obviously, a lot of the increase is because you suck on them."

"Yeah, they have," Art said as he leaned forward to capture her left nipple with his mouth.

"Whoa up there, Cowboy," she said, gently pushing him away. "We have just enough time to dress before we're due to help in the kitchen. If you start sucking on our boobs, we'll be two hours late. Want to skip breakfast after running those three miles?"

"More like staggering through three miles," he said with a chuckle, "but I'll wait until after we eat." Then with an evil grin, "Of course, you could give me a blowjob to tide me over until after breakfast..."

But Sandra broke in with, "Which would result in the same thing as a titty sucking. We'd have to be fucked, and we would be two hours late."

Art turned the shower off and tossed them towels. "Then let's get dressed and the two of you to cooking. I need nourishment to take care of my wives."

"Oh, yes, oh masterful master," the two women said in unison, breaking down into giggles as soon as it was out of their mouths.

"How do you do that?" Art asked yet again, past his laughter.

"We're an Alpha's mates. Diana says it goes with the territory."

Art pulled them to him, hugged them and swatted both on their asses. "Let's get dressed and you two to the kitchen. I'm starved."

"Oh, a new day is dawning," Bobby laughed. "Our husband had rather have food than pussy."

While Art stood trying to come up with a response that wouldn't get him into trouble, the girls went to dress.

-------

Arlene waved to Dot, the UPS driver as she turned her truck around near the back door and headed for the driveway, a cup of freshly made hot chocolate in her hand.

Back inside the Retreat, the young wife picked up the first phone she came to, called Hope and announced, "They're here. Living room."

Arlene stopped by the kitchen to get a utility knife out of a drawer, then went on to the living room. A couple of minutes later, Hope came hurrying in carrying both puppies to see Arlene sitting on the floor with a package in front of her.

"You haven't opened it yet?" Hope said, putting the puppies down.

"Of course not. We bought the outfits together. We open the package together," she finished, handing Hope the utility knife.

After three swipes with the knife, Hope carefully retracted the blade and put the knife on the carpet, hesitating.

"Open it, Silly," Arlene said.

Hope ripped the box open the rest of the way and pulled out its contents. "Oh, my. They are bright."

Arlene let out a giggle. "Be hard losing them in the snow."



-------

Chapter 204


Hope held one of the outfits up as she repressed a giggle. "Dogs can see color, can't they?"

Arlene grabbed Spike, who had apparently figured things out and was sneaking off. "Oh, no you don't, Big Boy. You get to try on your new snowsuit." Then answering Hope's question, "They can see colors, but I've read that the colors they see probably aren't as intense to dogs as they are to humans. They have fewer cones in their eyes, and humans have several different types of cones that tend to enhance our color vision even more."

Hope let out a chuckle. "Well, I guess that's good in this instance. The picture on the website was bright, but seeing these things for real is ... different. They're really bright orange."

Arlene chuckled as she held up Spike's suit. "Good! That should ensure that our puppies won't get lost in the snow."

Hope unzipped Sugar's suit, then picked up the dog. She stuffed the puppy's left front leg into the suit, but as the girl was trying to push the right leg in, Sugar jerked her left leg out. Hope finally managed to get both front legs in, then was working on the back legs when Sugar pulled the front ones out again.

Frustrated, the teenager turned to look at an equally aggravated Arlene, who wasn't having any better luck with Spike. Arlene held her puppy up near her face to have a conference with him. "Look, Spike, your feet get cold along with the rest of you. You start shivering almost as soon as we're outside. You'll love your new outfit once you're in the snow."

Spike, unimpressed, licked her face.

"Looks like we're going to have to double-team them," the young Queen said to her buddy.

Hope put Sugar down. "Okay, you hold him and I'll put it on him."

That worked much better, and a couple of minutes later, Hope pressed the Velcro together along the length of Spike's back, sealing him in the suit, but he wasn't at all happy about wearing the outfit. The only things showing were his genitals, and his head from his ears forward. He did not like having his feet encased in the suit – not one bit.

When Arlene put him down, he snatched up first one foot then another, shaking them in an effort to free his feet, then began a shimmering movement in an effort to dislodge the suit. While he was preoccupied, Sugar dashed over to wrestle with him in what seemed to be the puppy's version of teasing. When she bowled him over, Spike growled at her.

"Your turn," Hope laughed as she snatched up Sugar.

Since they had already done it before with Spike, Sugar's encasement in her snowsuit went faster. Shortly, the puppies stood on the floor looking at each other with disgust written on their faces. "Aren't they cute?" the two girls squealed out in unison. They picked their dogs up and hurried into the hallway, almost colliding with Jeff as he was about to enter the living room.

"Tell Mom we'll clean up our mess when we get back from taking the puppies out," Arlene told her husband as he stood grinning.

"Too bad you didn't choose a bright color," he laughed.

Arlene stuck her tongue out at him as the two hurried down the hall with their squirming burdens.

At the back door, the two girls put the puppies down long enough to pull on their coats. When they were outside, Arlene and Hope stood looking around as the puppies did their business. Arlene smiled at the other girl. "The parking lot has been plowed, and even though there are a few drifts around the planters, we want a good-size area to test out the suits. Let's walk on back to the range."

Hope held Sugar against her body, but hadn't put her under her coat as she frequently did after her puppy did her business. "She isn't shivering yet, and by now she usually is, so I guess that 'great' material the advertisement bragged about is working."

"Yeah, Spike seems fine, too," Arlene agreed.

A couple of minutes later, they stopped at the range. With the fresh snow from the night before, there was an unobstructed snowfield roughly twelve to fifteen inches deep throughout the big level area.

Spike's nose started twitching, and Sugar's followed a second later. Both puppies began whining and thrashing about, trying to get down.

"What do you suppose they smell?" Hope wondered aloud. "Should we put them down? There might be an animal of some kind under the snow."

"I don't know what lives up here," Arlene said. "But I've seen an occasional small hole in the ground that I suspect is a burrow for some type of rodent. I doubt if the dogs will do more than just play with anything they find, and I certainly don't want them to be exposed to anything dangerous..."

But Hope had already put Sugar down, and Spike was yipping and trying his best to get out of Arlene's hands. "Okay. But you better not get into trouble," Arlene admonished as she put the puppy on the frozen ground at the edge of where the snowplow had made its farthest pass.

Both puppies launched themselves at the wall of snow where the snowfield began. Amazing the girls, Spike and Sugar burrowed into the mostly fresh powder snow and were out of sight in an instant. "Hey, wait," Arlene called out, starting into the snow behind Spike, but before she could take two steps, Spike popped out of the snow six feet in front of her, bouncing into the air as if he were on a pogo stick, looking around and barking, frantically. A second later, Sugar did the same thing.

"Wait. Come back here, Sugar," Hope called out, the worry evident in her voice.

"Crap, how can they move that fast?" Arlene grumbled as she realized that the dogs had taken a ninety degree turn to the left under the snow. Both dogs were continuing to bark frenziedly, and their occasional pop-ups were accompanied with coughing as they tried to bark and spit snow at the same time.

"What are they after?" Hope called out just before she dived into the snow, only to miss Sugar. "We can't let them catch anything. They might even kill it, or worse, catch rabies or something."

"They've had their rabies shots and Little One has enhanced them, so they won't catch anything," Arlene managed to get out just before Hope dived into the snow again. "Be careful, don't step on them," she admonished the younger girl as the Queen tried to catch up to Spike while being cautious about where she put her feet. Her cautious approach wasn't working.

Two steps later, Spike popped up a few feet to her left, apparently having circled back under the snow. As she dived for her puppy, she saw something brown and small burst through a trail left by the two girls, then quickly disappear again as it burrowed into the snow, Spike dead on its heels.

Sugar had also apparently doubled back as she chased her quarry, and when she passed through an open path created by the humans, Hope grabbed her. Sugar growled and thrashed, incensed by the chase, but Hope wasn't impressed by her puppy's antics. "Oh, no you don't, Little Lady. You're too small to be tangling with some wild creature under this snow."

Sugar began a mournful howl as she continued to try to get down and rejoin the chase.

Shortly, Arlene succeeded in corralling her puppy, also. As she jerked him clear of the snow, his legs continued to windmill, his focus still on the snow as his excellent hearing tracked the small creature that had barely escaped with its life.

Unknown to the girls, Jeff and his wives, along with Dave, his wives, Evie, Linda and Kim, were watching the chase on the big screen in the living room. Jeff was laughing so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. "Bug-eyed rats wearing bright orange snowsuits chasing voles under the snow. I wonder what they would have done if they had caught one?"

"They are not bug-eyed rats," Diana indignantly said, although she was hard put to hold back her laughter as, on the screen, they saw Spike escape Arlene's hands and tear out again. But his escape was short-lived when Arlene pounced on him.

"I'll bet they have some cold feet," Dave laughed.

"Maybe not," Jeff responded. "I think the snowsuits have feet in them."

"I wasn't talking about the dogs. They're probably fine. Arlene and Hope, though, seem to have on regular running shoes. Bet their shoes are full of snow by now."

Jeff chuckled along with his Alpha. "After all those dives into the snow, I'll bet they have snow in places other than their shoes," the Prime added with a chuckle.

Jeff, thinking that Kayla and Art would like to see a video of the vole chase when the two got back from their training, not to mention everyone else, spoke to the computer, "Computer! Save..."

"'PUPPIES CHASING VOLES IN THE SNOW' ALREADY SAVED," the AI said before Jeff could get it out.

"Damn AI is getting uppity," Jeff muttered under his breath.

Helen and Laura winked at each other and grinned.

"Are those things the puppies were after really voles?" Diana asked her husband.

"Yeah, that flash we got of the one that jumped looked like a vole to me."

"Shit," Diana uncharacteristically said, almost gnashing her teeth as she ground out the word. "I thought we left those things back in Georgia." Then turning to her sister-wives, "Those little pests out there," she said motioning, "or their kin, ate the roots to my rosebushes over and over again. All of a sudden, a beautiful, healthy bush would just up and wilt. I started to check on one of the first bushes that had been affected, but when I pulled on the main stem, the whole bush just came up in my hands. There were no roots on it – none. The voles had eaten them. Then I realized what all those little humps and holes in the ground were. They were vole tunnels barely under the surface. I spent a fortune trying to get rid of those creatures, but I never managed to completely eliminate them, no matter how many things I tried. Those things breed like crazy. Now they're out here, or at least their cousins are. Maybe we need more Chihuahuas," she groused out, half serious.

"No more bug-eyed rats," Jeff said, just to stir her up.

"Then what do you suggest?" she almost snarled out as she again thought of dead rosebushes. "Your other wives and I are going to plant a lot more flowers and shrubs come spring, and you do not want us in a bad mood when those... things start killing our plants."

Jeff, realizing that Diana was very serious, said, "Yes, Ma'am, I'll take care of it," and he wasn't at all sarcastic with his response. Then with a slight twitch to the corner of his lips, he thought, Just a wee mite of C-4 in their tunnels should do the trick. This time I'm going to get rid of those suckers.

-------

Sandra and Bobby had returned to their suite after Art left with Kayla to train. The two nurses had changed the bed, vacuumed, and generally put the rooms in pristine order. Bored, they sat in the living room of the suite to read, Sandra stretched partway out on one of the couches, and Bobby in a comfortable chair with her feet on an ottoman.

There was silence in the room for a time, broken only by the whisper of an occasional turned page. When Bobby realized that she had read the last paragraph three times and still didn't know what it said, she closed the book and looked over at her sister, only to see Sandra staring back at her.

Sandra, a little exasperation in her voice, said, "We've never had a problem with boredom before. When we were off-shift, we worked on the house, reloaded ammunition, whent shooting ... any number of things."

Bobby grinned at her. "There's a massive amount of brass in those barrels on the range, all divided out by caliber. Want to go reload some of it?"

"You're teasing, right? That magazine across the hall from the range has enough ammo in it to keep us shooting for years. Not to mention the cases already stacked in the range."

Bobby tossed her book aside and stood. "Yeah, but it's fun to make our own ammo and shoot it. Besides, Dave has already set up a big table for us right there on the range, and even bolted our presses to it. Let's give it a whirl. Anything beats sitting here staring at a book."

Sandra didn't bother to mark her place in her book, either, but tossed it aside and came to her feet. "Better than sitting here wondering when we'll get to make love to our husband again. Surely, he'll be back before supper and we can at least get in a quickie."

Bobby stopped to giggle. "Since when would you know about a quickie? Well, other than when we gave our virginity to that doofus."

"Oh, you know what I mean. I'm horny."

"We're both horny. We stay that way, in case you haven't noticed," she laughed as she hooked her sister's arm with hers. The two women took the few steps to the door and opened it just as Hope reached to knock. She was trying to balance her load, which included a folding easel, paper, and a case containing sketching pencils and tools, while trying to knock.

"Oops," Hope said, taking a step back and almost losing her grip on the easel.

"Let us help you with that," Bobby said, as both she and her sister reached out.

With a couple of embarrassed giggles from all three, they managed to untangle Hope from her burdens and get everything inside. Rather than just put the easel down, Bobby pulled the legs into position, and after a moment to figure it out, locked the brace into place so the three legs would secure their burden properly.

"So, you've come to draw for us?" Sandra asked as she offered Hope a seat.

"Want something to drink?" Bobby asked, giving Hope a rundown on what they had.

"Sure. I haven't had a grape soda in a long time. I think I'll try that."

Bobby started for the refrigerator. "One grape soda coming up." Returning with Hope's drink and two diet Cokes a moment later, she passed out the drinks.

There was an instant of silence, short, but somehow slightly embarrassing to all three. Hope took an audible breath and almost blurted, "Diana suggested I get to know you two a bit better. I started thinking about it, and well ... I think Art might like a sketch of his wives." Then quickly going on as she felt her face warm, "If that's all right with you, I mean..."

"We think it's a wonderful idea," Sandra said, with Bobby doubling the "wonderful idea," together with her.

"How do you do that?" Hope asked with a giggle, the tension somehow gone.

Bobby and Sandra looked at each other for a second, and Hope thought that they were deciding who was going to answer. That was, indeed, the case, except they were making sure they didn't both answer in duet again, not wanting to freak out their young guest.

Smiling, Bobby responded, "Diana says it's part of becoming an Alpha's mate. I'm sure you've heard the other women doing it."

Hope took a sip of her drink before carefully placing it on the coaster. "Yeah, I've heard them, and sometimes I think some of Jeff's wives kid him a little with it, particularly Nat, Nicki and Whitney. I just don't know..."

"We don't know, either. But Sandra and I have done it to some extent since we were kids. We're not twins, although we look enough alike to be. But we've always been closer than any two sisters we've ever been around. We think alike, so I'm sure that's part of it, but after Art ... came on the scene, well, sometimes, it's hard not to do it."

The wives had unconsciously sat together on the couch, and without thought, were holding hands.

Hope took a moment before commenting, "Jennie and I love each other, of course, but we've never been as close as the two of you seem to be." She hesitated a second, then trying to get the words out before her embarrassment shut her down, quickly continued with, "I'm jealous of the way the two of you get along, and ... you have a great husband." The last was uttered in a rush, with Hope's face turning crimson as she blurted it. Then, "Oh, my. I didn't mean..."

"We totally agree," Bobby said, overriding the girl's comment, "and don't you dare be embarrassed by what you said. You know that our husband has been talking about you, don't you?"

"Oh, I guess so. We've ... worked together to make those two sketches. He's extremely patient with me."

The sisters passed a look, then Bobby turned back to Hope, stretching the truth a little. "He's been trying to get up the nerve to ask you to go snowmobiling with us. We're hoping he'll get back from his training in time to go this afternoon. What do you say?"

Hope hesitated for a second, wondering. "Uh, I'm not very good with snowmobiles..."

"You could ride with Art," Sandra, seizing the opportunity, instantly responded. "We could take a ride up to the top of the mountain where Art and Jeff went yesterday. Art said it was beautiful up there."

"Well, I don't know..."

"It's settled then," Bobby interrupted. "Now tell us about the sketch you're planning."

Hope's look took in the room, a smile touching her face as she thought. Standing, she motioned, "If we could move those two chairs there, you could stand in front of the wall."

"Should we take down the picture?" Bobby asked, indicating a reproduction hanging between the chairs.

"No, just leave it. It won't matter for what I have in mind." Turning back to the two women, Hope went on, "This will take a while. You should probably go to the..."

" ... bathroom," the sisters finished in unison for her. Even their quiet giggles were identical.

"Yeah," Hope absently responded as she moved her easel into position and began setting up.

-------

..."Colonel. Lieutenant Mayfield has received the items you requested. He would like to know if we should bring them to you."

Jeff, working in his lab, stopped to subvocalize on his radio. "No. Tell him I'll be on my way, shortly. We'll use his range."

"Yes, Colonel."

Since it was almost noon, he stopped by the kitchen. "Hi, Babe," he told his Queen as she turned to him after putting several pies in an oven. A quick kiss and he continued, "Don't set a place for me. I'm going to play a little on Security's range. I'll eat with Mayfield."

Diana reached up to put a hand on either side of her husband's face. "You be careful. I know you better than you think I do. You scared yourself with whatever you did with the ball bearing. I'm far from being a mechanically minded person, but even I know there was a tremendous amount of energy expended on that rock. What if you had chosen a target close to you? Now promise me you'll be careful."

"Di, I..."

Diana's demeanor changed. "No bullshit masculine bravado, Jeff. I mean it. If nothing else, think what it would do to all your wives if something happened to you. Now Promise me you'll be careful and not take chances. This whole thing with the dimensions scares me. And while we're at it, I want another talk with the Ship."

"Uh..."

"Just girl talk. She and I need to have an understanding. Now I haven't heard that promise yet."

Realizing how serious his Queen was, he hugged her tight and whispered into her hair. "I promise I'll be careful." Then holding her back a little so he could look into her eyes, "Baby, I really need to do this. Think what it did for us going down that mountain. Little One expended her energy controlling the flow of power I used. I need to learn more about what I did. I suspect that I somehow did this ... unconsciously, or automatically. Hell, I don't know. But whatever I did, I need to understand how to do it at will, and to be able to control it. If my understanding is correct, this ... energy I used, or a variation of it, is the source of the power the Ship uses."

"Exactly what I'm worried about," Diana said, a frown deepening on her pretty face. "What if there's an error on your part? Jeff, you're a wonderful man, but even you make mistakes. One little miscalculation and you could unleash that energy on yourself. Come on, Jeff, you've just been telling us how much energy is there. I don't want to be a widow. I will not be a widow. You remember your promise, and be very, very cautious."

"Okay, Baby. I'll take precautions and I'll be extra careful. After all," he said with a little laugh, trying to lighten the situation, "I don't want to miss out on all those wives, either, let alone my beautiful Queen."

"Bullshit will get you nowhere on this, Jeff. I expect you back in one piece. Oh, yeah," she said pointing to the counter, "Dave left that for you. He said that once you decide on a size for the balls, he'll make a better launcher for you."

"Not bad," Jeff chuckled as he picked up a one inch oak dowel a foot long. One end had a hole drilled in the center extending down into the dowel. There were three big packs of golf tees on the counter, with one of them already opened. Jeff pulled a tee out, turned the dowel vertical and pushed the tee into the hole. The tee bottomed out, leaving the concave surface of the tee just above the end of the dowel. "Perfect," he said.

-------

Jeff, wearing fatigues, rapped on the door of Mayfield's office and walked in. "Mind if I eat with you, Lieutenant?"

Mayfield shot to his feet, coming to attention, wondering why he hadn't been told the Colonel was on the way, let alone that he was in the building, but after a second, realized that Colonel Matthews had probably ordered his people to refrain from telling him. Oh, well. I've been surprise inspected before.

Realizing from the shock on Mayfield's face what the Lieutenant was thinking, Jeff gave a little chuckle. "At ease, Lieutenant. I just wanted to drive down myself and didn't want all the hullabaloo for a simple visit with the people who protect me and mine. Besides, I was hoping to have lunch before trying out the bearings you have for me."

"Sir, I usually eat with the troops, but we can eat in the officers'..."

"Exactly what I want to do. Frankly, Lieutenant, I miss my team."

"Uh, Sir. Only half of them are here. The others are training about five miles from here."

"Well then, I'm lucky that some of them are here."

As the two started toward the mess hall, Mayfield chuckled. "Cook is going to have a stroke when he finds out you're here and he hasn't prepared something special for you."

"So he thinks I'm special? I'm not, and it's time he knew that. I haven't met him. Tell you what. He has servers, right? His job is done for the meal once it's cooked. Have him come eat with us."

As they stepped into the dining room, someone saw Jeff. "Colonel in the mess hall!"

"As you were," Jeff responded before anyone could even move.

He walked to the back of the serving line, astonishing the security troops who expected him to immediately go to the front, but Jeff's team, used to the way he did things, just grinned and went on with the business of getting their food.

Mayfield said something to one of the servers behind the counter and he turned to find the cook. A moment later, Sergeant Sims stepped to the door. Lieutenant Mayfield motioned to him and said in a voice loud enough to carry, "The Colonel requests that you eat at our table with us, Sergeant."

"Yes, Sir," Sims responded, his voice sounding normal, despite his heart rate doubling. He absently took off his apron and shoved it into a server's hands, then walked around the end of the serving area and started toward the Colonel and Lieutenant.

"Shit," one of the new Security people quietly said to the trooper standing beside him. "I really like the guy's cooking. Wonder what happened?"

Carter, hearing what was said, leaned over and whispered. "Cookie isn't in trouble. Eating with the Colonel is nothing. We suddenly got pinned down in a field with very little cover. The only thing we could do was dig in and wait for darkness. My big ass needs a big hole and the ground was hard. Suddenly, I had a Major helping me dig. That was before he made Colonel, but you can bet he hasn't changed. He will never ask you to do anything he won't do and has probably already done. Just get your lunch and don't worry about the cook."

Kayla, Art and the Training Sergeant came in.

"Looks like your husband came to check up on you," Art whispered to Kayla, mostly teasing, but a little bit serious, anyway.

"Hold my place," she said, "I'll be back in a second."

Walking over, she stood behind her husband and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come to check on our progress?"

Jeff reached up to put his hand over hers for an instant. "The Lieutenant has been good enough to allow me to use his range this afternoon. How's the training coming?"

"Good. Art is a sharp guy. He's catching on quickly." Glancing back at Art and the Training Sergeant, "See you at home, I need to get back in line."

With a squeeze of his shoulder, she headed back to Art and the Sergeant.

A nervous cook was soon seated beside a Colonel to eat lunch, Lieutenant Mayfield on the other side, and Jeff's team sitting near. Carter started telling "war stories" about Jeff, but Jeff countered with some of his own embarrassing screw-ups as well as accounts of the team's heroics. Before Sims quite realized it, he was relaxed and enjoying the meal he had cooked.



-------

Chapter 205

Bobby and Sandra came back from their bathroom break to find Hope sitting on the couch waiting for them.

"Do you want us to stand here?" Bobby asked as she moved over to the area where the seats had been.

"Not like that," Hope giggled. "Black heels, the higher the better." Then with a blush deepening, "Uh, could you, uh ... like lose those clothes and put on matching thongs, or G-string panties? Enough to cover yourselves, but no more – if you have them," she finished in a rush, her face now approaching cherry red.

Sandra and Bobby looked at each other, their matching grins becoming bigger by the second. "Oh, do we have them," Bobby laughed.

Sandra grabbed Bobby's hand. "Come on. Art's gonna have a stroke when he sees the sketch."

Hope could barely hold back a giggle. "Might want to add a touch of makeup. I'll be using my color pencils."

A couple of minutes later, the bedroom door popped open enough for Bobby to stick her head out. "How long will this take?"

"Probably most of the afternoon. I don't really know. I've never done what I plan to do today."

"Okay. We've called Arlene and asked her to bring us some sandwich fixings. If we're not back when she leaves, lock the door after her. We have no idea when Art will be back, but I'm sure you wouldn't want him to see the sketch before it's finished."

A few moments later, a grinning Arlene pushed a serving cart in, said, "Enjoy," and left.

Hope, barely suppressing the giggles that seemed to want to overcome her, locked the door after the young Queen and thought, This is going to be fun.

-------

A little earlier, Van had gotten Ben Aldridge on the phone. "How about eating lunch with us?"

"Sure. You know I've always loved your woman's cooking," his neighbor said. "About noon?"

"That would be perfect. You ready to sign on the deal?"

"What? Well sure, but it took two weeks to get the title search and the paperwork done when I bought the place. How'd you get it done so quick?"

"Don't ask me; I have no idea. I told you about borrowing the money from a friend. His lawyer and accountant are taking care of that. The lawyer just called and said he was ready. They'll be here at one to do the paperwork and transfer the money into your account."

"They're coming out here? Never heard of such. I thought you always had to go in to see them."

"I think Jeff has a bit of pull," Van dryly returned.

"Hot damn. That sounds great. I'm anxious to get to my son's. This is damn fine news. Uh, I've got a lot of furniture in this big old house. I'm thinking about renting the biggest U-Haul my pickup will pull and taking what furniture I can. I'll leave the rest so your son will have something to start out with."

"Unh uh. There will be a moving company taking care of all your furniture, and the moving is already paid for. They're gonna get your car and pickup to your son's, too. All you have to do is pack the clothes you want to take on the plane with you. The moving people will do the rest. You have a place to store your furniture when it gets there?"

"Yeah. Hal's got several big barns that I can store my excess stuff in, but I want to sleep on my own bed. Who knows, I might build a house one of these days. Did you say something about a plane?"

"Yeah. Ever flown first-class?"

"Hell, " Ben laughed. "I've never flown, period. I'd be scared shitless. And besides that, a moving company will cost a ton of money. I know for a fact you ain't got it to throw away, and paying for my move was never discussed..."

"It's a done deal, Ben. Part of the price for your farm, equipment and animals. And just a little bit of a thank you for all the things you did for me and my family over the years. Now get your butt over here so we can shoot the bull for a while before lunch. I'm gonna miss you being next door."

"Shit, Van. The animals and equipment came as part of the price. You knew that from the beginning, but ... I don't know how to thank you."

"Just get your butt over here so we can have a long talk face to face one more time. I bought you a little going away present and I need to get you up to speed on it."

Van had bought his old friend a top-of-the-line laptop with a large screen so they could keep in touch and see each other while they were doing it.

"In a way, I hate to leave, but my son and daughter-in-law want me to live on their ranch so they can take care of me. And I sure want to be around the grandkids. Bet it's gonna be good for you to have your boy back home again. Oh yeah, I talked to Hal this morning. He says to tell you hello and to remind you that you and your family are always welcome to visit. And he ain't just talking through his hat; he means it."

"We'll all see each other again, Ben. You can bet on that. Now get over here so we can do some planning."

-------

Jeff stood looking down at the cases of ball bearings on Security's dock.

"Three-eights to two inches, an equal amount of case hardened steel, and tungsten carbide balls," Mayfield said. Before Jeff could comment on how many of the balls the Lieutenant had ordered, Mayfield continued, "The General got into the process and apparently multiplied everything by ten." Then with a grin, "Guess you need to learn how to be a machine gun."

"Very funny," Jeff groused. "I'm still at the stage where I'm trying to keep from killing myself."

"That your new and improved launcher?" Mayfield asked, nodding to the dowel in Jeff's hand.

"Yeah," the Prime laughed. "This is just a basic prototype until I learn what I'm doing. No use in anything decent, yet. I'm afraid at this point that I'll accidentally destroy it when I launch the ball. But Dave and I have been talking about a repeating launcher, if I manage to get better."

Jeff indicated four cases of the balls: half inch and three-quarter inch in both types of hardness. "We'll take these. I think I'll leave the larger ones until I learn more control."

Carter grabbed two of the cases as if they weighed nothing, and two of the Security troopers took a case each. When an ATV was loaded with the steel balls, Jeff stepped aboard another ATV with the Lieutenant, and they were off, a trail of Security ATV's and snowmobiles following.

"Do we need all of them?" Jeff groused, jerking his head toward the troops following, "It feels like a parade."

Mayfield couldn't help but chuckle. "Surely, you're not going to deny them the demonstration, Colonel?"

"The 'demonstration' might very well be me just making a fool out of myself. I've done this exactly twice. The first time, I took out a piece of molding above my living room window, and the second time I almost blew us all up, according to Little One. It scares me to think that I considered pushing the ball bearing hard. If my math is correct, this whole area might have been a radioactive hole this morning."

Amazing Jeff, Mayfield laughed. "Well, I've heard it said that your team would follow you into Hell. By the way, most of them are already at the range waiting for you."

Jeff tried to glare at Mayfield, but couldn't seem to get rid of his grin long enough to do it.

-------

The Prime stood in the shooting area looking around, impressed. When they had started down into the crevasse where the rifle range was located, the Prime's sharp eyes had picked out the shooting house, and after a moment, had identified the targets as well, but he doubted if satellite cameras would notice anything. The top and sides of the shooting house looked like the rest of the area – just rock-strewn rubble.

They parked the vehicles under a seemingly natural overhang that had what amounted to a large cave carved into the wall of the crevasse behind the overhang. Satellite imaging could only happen from almost directly overhead because the crevasse was narrow and fairly deep.

Jeff glanced around, noting the various screens focused on a variety of targets positioned from twenty-five meters out to a thousand. All were automated and required little from range personnel. There was sophisticated sound baffling in the shooting house, even though it was mostly open on the front side.

Jeff turned to a smiling Mayfield. "You've done one hell of a lot of work since I've been out here. I'm impressed."

But Mayfield denied the credit. "Not me, Colonel. The General has practically inundated us with the latest technology to set things up, not to even mention personnel to do the work. Sometimes, I think he's a little disappointed that I don't order more than I do. He expands on everything I request. 'Nothing is too good for the Colonel, ' is what he tells me."

He doesn't want anything to happen to his starship driver,  Jeff thought, but quickly admonished himself, knowing that the General meant well. Hell, he's not only protecting me, but my family, also.

Jeff sat at one of the shooting "consoles" as Mayfield referred to them. The Lieutenant, apparently somewhat embarrassed, quickly said, "I ordered a long shooting table that would go completely across the front of the house. What I got were these," he laughed. "With a flick of a remote, you can make them into one long shooting bench, or you can divide it into sections, any of which will move out of the way." He demonstrated to show pads, or rests, rising up from within the console to accept a rifle or handgun. No bother with sandbags or such. "No need for a spotting scope, either," Mayfield added as a screen focused on the thousand yard target swung lower to give a perfect close-up picture of the distant target.

The Lieutenant showed Jeff the remote. "Touch this button and the mechanism changes the target."

Jeff put on his shooting glasses and earphones. "I doubt if we'll have much use of that button for the time being," he said with a chuckle as he opened a box of the three-quarter inch balls, took one out and waited.

The range Sergeant standing directly behind him bellowed out, "Ears. Eyes. Ready on the right. Ready on the left." After a short pause, "Ready on the firing line ... The line is HOT! Fire at will, Colonel."

Feeling ridiculous, Jeff held his dowel vertically, nestled the steel ball into the golf tee, eased in a calming breath, took aim at the distant target and gently pushed. There was a rolling "crack" of sound, a flash of intense light, and a pile of rocks at the end of the crevasse and well to the right of the target rearranged themselves into much smaller rocks. When the plume of rock dust cleared, and chunks of rocks stopped falling, Jeff let out a quiet, "Shit."

Most everyone there had already said the same thing, but the others had a quite different meaning. Jeff was pissed because he missed the target so widely; the others were impressed with the violence of the event.

The Range Sergeant stepped forward to offer, "Perhaps a little spin on the ball, Sir, to give it some stabilization."

"That was with spin," Jeff quietly said, despite his mood being not at all calm just then. "Or rather, I tried to," he added. "The damn thing was gone before I could do anything to it." As he focused on his launcher, "And my golf tee as well," he added. Then to himself, I guess Dave had a good idea. Looks like I'm going to use up a lot of tees until I get the hang of this – if ... I get the hang of this.

Jeff turned the launcher over and shook out the spike of the destroyed tee, slipped another tee into place, and tucked another steel ball into position. Concentrating on making the ball spin, he carefully opened the energy gate. A flash of blinding white light, possibly with a faint violet hue, a "crack," and the target still stood pristine after an explosion at the end of the crevasse. The missile had gone high and to the left.

"It's like a hand-held antitank missile on steroids," Mayfield commented.

Ignoring the Lieutenant, "It's fucking there before the ball has time to spin," Jeff groused out loud. "In addition, I know I'm not pushing equally on the ball. I can feel that my push is off, but by the time I feel the error, the ball is gone."

"Shall I send back for some of the two inch balls, Colonel? You might have more luck since they have a larger surface."

Jeff thought for a second, "True, the larger balls might provide more surface to try to grasp, but what's that ball going to do when it hits something? Five hundred pound bomb, maybe? I need to learn control first, then we'll go for the big guns."

"Hmmm. I see your point, Sir."

Over the next thirty minutes, Jeff continued to launch balls, both half inch and three-quarter inch sizes, and after a while he did hit the target – at least in a manner of speaking. The steel ball apparently hit the ground twenty feet or so in front of the target, spraying debris and rocks forward, completely obliterating the target and its frame. When the rock dust and chunks of rock settled, the Lieutenant hit a button and another target frame and target rose up. "Redundancy," he said with a chuckle. "The General said we shouldn't have to shut down training just because of a failure of one of the stations."

Jeff turned to the Range Sergeant. "I think this is enough for now. I need to do some thinking before we continue. Right now, the safest place out there – with that one exception – is behind the target."

"I'll store your ... uh, ammo, Sir."

"Thanks, Sergeant. I'll probably be back tomorrow. Looks like I need a whole lot more practice."

While riding back to the ski lodge on the ATV, Jeff looked over at Lieutenant Mayfield. "I noticed that you now have the ski slopes open again."

"Yes, Sir," the Lieutenant said as he slowed to maneuver around a boulder, "I thought it would provide a logical cover for our personnel – at least at first glance. Shortly after the slopes were cleared, I put an order in place whereby everyone here would have to spend time on the slopes learning to ski properly. We, of course, do so in civvies. As I mentioned before, I've also included cross-country skiing to our schedule of exercise. Your team already had a course of training along those lines, and their Sergeant is helping to train my people as well. I don't know whether the General has mentioned it to you or not, but he says he will be cycling personnel through to receive some of the mountain wilderness training we're developing here."

Jeff took another sip of coffee while he thought. Then, "I've only been on one ice world, and that for a very short period of time, but we know there have to be more. Better to have personnel trained and ready for it ahead of time. At least the new camouflage suits should be a tremendous help with that. Now if the technicians can come up with something that truly erases our tracks in the snow, and does it a lot quicker than what we have now..."

"We have the best people," Mayfield commented.

"And according to what the scientists have told the General, the Ship has allowed them to have several insights into areas that might well help along those lines." Jeff didn't bother to add that he was the reason the Ship relinquished the data.

-------

Back at the Retreat a little later, Jeff, wanting to be alone, sat in his lab office and brooded. He had never taken failure well, although if he were to admit it, he seldom failed at anything. He had always had a gift for coordination, and indeed, had frequently been so much better than any opposition, that he had learned to hold back on his skills as he had done with the cowboy action shooting. Being too good at something called attention to himself, and he had never liked that.

After he had joined the General's black ops group (if being conscripted into the coterie could be called joining), he had been even more aware that he should not call attention to himself for being in any way different. But combat had changed that, and the team, as well as his superiors, noticed. Even then he wasn't like a lot of new lieutenants, full of book learning with no practical skills. He listened to his veteran Sergeant and learned. His reflexes and coordination, along with his superior shooting and cognitive skills, tended to help keep his team alive. Frequently, he seemed to guess when something was going to happen, maybe only a millisecond before, but mostly in time for him to react or warn his team.

His team came home – every time, shot up, maybe, but they all came home alive. And as time went on, more and more tales spread of the Lieutenant who always seemed to come up with the strategy to complete the mission objectives, and do whatever was necessary to get his people back through the portal. Word was out that his decisions were always right. Troops saved by a Lieutenant who fought by their sides and never seemed to miss what he shot at, told how he had saved their lives, and many times saved those lives at the risk of his own. Most any of the troops would say that they had rather be with a commander who was lucky, rather than just good, but Matthews was more than lucky, and more than just good – a lot more.

As time went on, lesser troops were moved out of Matthew's unit and other troops cycled in, until, over time, he led the elite – the best of the best. The Lieutenant who wanted to stay out of the limelight had failed in that one thing – his superiors had noticed. General Whitworth, having heard about the new Lieutenant, had paid particular attention, and through the chain of command, had begun to build a unit around this man who seemed exceptional – almost charmed, even.

The odd thing about it was that this young electrical engineer really did not want to be where he was. He had remarked more than once that he would serve his time and go back to civilian life, but Whitworth wasn't going to give up a talent like Matthews. They would eventually butt heads.

-------

Jeff continued to brood in his office. How in the fuck did I manage to keep the Escalade on the road? I was hardly aware of doing it at all. I needed to do it, so I did it. Now, with all the time in the world, I can't even control a small steel ball. Little One? he thought to his Healer.

{{{ My Prime, you are not doing the same thing that you did when you held the vehicle on the roadway – at least I do not think you are. It is as if you are using a ... different source of power. I have attempted to restrict the energy, but the burst is of such short duration that I have little control of the ... aperture, or of the ... intensity of the energy that slips through. Both the aperture and the energy seem to almost brush my best efforts aside. }}}

I can focus the energy on the ball, or probably more accurately, cause the energy to hit the ball, but that's all the control I seem to have. It seems that the energy hits the ball before I even have the thought fully formed. How can I control something that happens hundreds or maybe even thousands of times faster than I think?

{{{ My Prime, I have failed you. I am... }}}

Nonsense,  Jeff mentally sent to interrupt the cascade of emotions and negative thoughts, As usual, I've managed to blunder into something different. Hell, I got shot up, and thanks to my Team Sergeant, wound up in a healing chamber on a sentient starship. Now, while going to try to help one of my wives, I somehow tapped into an energy source that scares the piss out of me. But curiosity drags me forward, even as logic says for me to run like hell. After a moment of thought, I think I need a sit-down with the Ship.

-------

After spending more time in thought, the Prime turned to his new invention to clear his mind. After a couple of hours, he shut his computer down and stood. Crap, I can't concentrate on the force field for my mind returning to the dimension thing. I might as well give up and go visit her.

A couple of minutes later, he was walking toward the invisible ship when the hatch and ramp popped into existence, and Diana strolled down with two covered bowls in her hands. When they met a short distance from the Ship, they stopped as he leaned down to touch his lips to hers for a second.

"Be careful," she admonished as she held the bowls out on either side of him, "they're still pretty hot and I might spill the food on you."

"Food? You're taking food..."

"Yes, Silly. How else is she to serve human food? Didn't you say that all your team had to eat was rations while you were on the way back from that planet?"

"Uh, yeah. The food program the Ship had was for other races. She said that we could digest some of it, but the types of food we tried tasted ... well, not good. And that was an understatement. She could reproduce our combat rations just fine, though. But, well ... we were halfway back before we (the Ship and I) knew enough about each other to communicate about the food. And after tasting some of the food that her originators and a couple of other races consumed, we decided to stick with rations until we got home."

"So, now she'll have a program for human food, or at least the beginnings of one," she said with a smirk as she stepped around her husband, but he wasn't done.

As he pulled her back to him, "What's this about? There's no way the General is going to allow me on a mission off-world, and I thought you didn't want me to go, anyway."

Diana glared up at him, or tried to; the glare turned into a grin. "Do you think your wives and I are that dumb? Oh, I know your plans are still in the beginning stages, but sooner or later, you're going to go off in that ... ship – go off-world," she said, nodding her head, "but if you think you're going without your wives, think again."

Hoping to nip this in the bud, he ventured, "Di, you have no idea how dangerous..."

"Exactly the reason we're going with you," she interrupted. "With your wives with you, you won't be nearly as daring."

When she saw his eyes narrow, she went hastily on, "Oh, don't even start. You know what I mean. I love General Whitworth, but we both know he sends teams on missions that are unnecessarily dangerous..."

"Baby, that isn't so; he..."

"All right, all right, maybe I used the wrong words, but nosing around on planets overrun with combative aliens isn't exactly a healthy thing to do. Jeff, I, and your other wives, know more than you think we do. Some of our knowledge comes from the General's wives, some from Kayla, and some from logic as we assess what we've heard. Oh, Kayla hasn't told us any secrets; neither has Ellen nor Barbara, but we've expanded and extrapolated from comments we've heard.

"Kayla has mentioned being attacked, and Ellen and Barbara have heard about troops being hurt or killed on missions. You guys never learn that you can't keep everything from your mates. You've come home with healed bullet wounds, claiming you were training..."

"Di, I told you I was forced to tell you that, and I also promised that I wouldn't do it again, but remember, things have changed. The General is now a friend, and, well, I'm a Colonel now. The only person I have to answer to is Whitworth..."

" ... and you're his Prime now," she finished for him. "And don't bother saying anything about that. I know you still respect him – still respect rank, but I also know that it won't take much to change his mind if you decide to do it." The Queen suddenly frowned, "I need to get this food back inside, but Jeff Matthews, understand this, you will not leave this planet without your mates. If you die, we die too. I will not be a widow."

She didn't stamp her foot, but she may as well have. Without further comment, she turned toward the Retreat, the bowls of food clutched in her gloved hands, tears, unseen by her husband since she had quickly turned away, streaming down her cheeks.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath as he turned toward the Ship, "now what the fuck am I going to do?"



-------

Chapter 206

Shortly after Jeff entered the bridge, sat on the left command couch and became one with the Ship's vast mind, Arlene slipped into the second couch. After waiting a moment for her to settle in, "So, to what do I owe this honor?" Jeff sent to his daughter via the Ship's mind.

"That's ... eerie," she responded in kind.

"But much faster than speech," he returned. "Besides, a ship's Master and his Number One should be able to speak privately to each other, right?"

"My sister-wives are already teasing me about the Number One thing. Don't you start kidding me, too, Husband."

"Who's kidding? Protocol aboard Ship would certainly dictate your having a title. I think that Number One will do just fine. I never did particularly like the XO thing." Then after a second, "It's not as if there is a lot of precedent about command structure and titles on a starship – well, at least a starship from Earth, anyway."

With her mental voice a bit strained, "You are kidding, right?"

"Wrong, Number One. Get used to it."

Arlene tried to sit up straight, but that wasn't easy until the seat released her. Then slumping back a moment later, she sighed audibly and continued via the Ship, "But I'm..."

" ... just sixteen," Jeff quickly responded, anticipating her. "Yeah, I know. We've gone this route before, but you're also a genius, and..."

"I am not, Daddy. Well, just barely, maybe, if you're talking about IQ scores," she admitted, "But Ann is just as smart as I am..."

"As I've just said, we've already covered this," he admonished. "You two are different from each other, and you know it. Yes, indeed, Ann is very intelligent, but this isn't her field. You, on the other hand, are a natural born leader, and the Ship knows that. Don't forget, she's the one who chose you, but I totally agree with her. I haven't forgotten what you did on that intelligence mission..."

"But Daddy, that was only a simulation."

"Was it? Prove it to me. Show me one bit of concrete evidence that you didn't go on that mission."

"I'm back in one piece. That's proof. Those energy weapons caught up with my little ship. I ceased to exist. The simulation shut down."

"So, how do you know that the mother ship didn't snatch you out of there a millisecond before the beams destroyed you, hmmm? Think about it."

Arlene twisted her body to look directly at her father. "You know it was a simulation."

"I know my daughter completed an impossible mission..."

" ... and came back to tell about it only because it was a simulation. If the mission had been real, I would be dead, but you, on the other hand, completed it and survived. Why are you trying to mess with my mind? It was a simulation."

"My point is that it's virtually impossible to detect any difference between a simulation by the Ship and the real thing. You have the intelligence and the innate skills of command. Sixteen isn't a drawback, indeed, the opposite; it's an advantage. You have a longer time to learn."

"But," she blustered, "nobody is going to take orders from a sixteen-year-old. Not serious orders, anyway."

"I didn't say it would be easy, but I suspect our crew will acknowledge truth. And the truth will be that you will know more about the Ship than anyone else, except me – far more. The rest will come with time – as you earn their respect and trust."

"But what if the Ship finds someone who is better at what she needs than I am?"

"So ask her? She hears everything we say, anyway."

Before Arlene could even form the thought, the Ship spoke in her mind, "I have made my decision. That decision will not change. Your training awaits you. I must warn you, however, it will be an ongoing experience and rigorous. If you were not capable, I would not have chosen you. The training will be long and occasionally ... painful, both mentally and physically."

Arlene shifted strategies. "But what about the college courses I'm taking?"

"Oh, woe is me," Jeff teased as he reached over and poked her in the ribs.

"Daddeee," she hissed out, "I'm serious."

"Your high school curriculum is finished, right?" At Arlene's nod, he went on. "Helen tells me you and Ann are just waiting until Jennie and Melissa finish up, so you will all 'graduate' together, but the fact is that both you and Ann have technically graduated, already. Am I wrong?"

"Uh, no," the young Queen admitted.

"And you and Ann are already taking a full load of college courses. Am I right?"

"Well, yeah. And that's my point..."

"Answer me this before you go on. Are there any of your text books that you have not already read – and memorized – from cover to cover?"

"Daddy that's..."

" ... pertinent to our conversation," he finished for her.

"That's not what I was going to say," she grumbled. "You're putting words in my mouth – or mind, or whatever," she finished, trying to hold back a giggle.

"And you're coasting along," he said, sobering her instantly. "With that gift of genius comes a packsaddle load of responsibilities."

"I'm not a mule," she tried to indignantly insert, but he paid no attention. "And besides, I spend a good bit of time helping Nat, Nicki and Whitney, and I do other things for Helen. Plus, I'm helping Helen, Laura and Ann write our AI's program," she admitted with a blush.

"Which is coming along fabulously, if you discount how uppity the thing is getting," he groused, but he couldn't hold back a grin as he said it.

"And I'm not just 'coasting' along, Daddy. You hurt my feelings..."

"I apologize for that, Sweetie. I was just trying to get my point across. Your college courses aren't going to hold you back as far as time is concerned. I'll see to it that Nat, Nicki and Whitney aren't slighted, and I know they need help to catch up, no matter how smart they are. I think you'll still have time to help Helen, Laura and Ann on occasion, and as far as that goes, exposure to the Ship's logic might very well help with your programming."

Arlene rose from her couch and sat on her husband's lap, his couch bringing him to a full sitting position as she did so. As soon as she could, she grabbed him in a fierce hug. "I'll try, Daddy, but I'm ... scared that I don't have whatever the Ship needs," she said directly to the Prime.

"How about when you out-shot that smartass with the rifle? You shut his mouth without stooping to his level. When he attacked you physically, you made a fool of him. You took out that mercenary, and in the process, turned the tide of battle in our favor. We would have been sitting ducks in the hallway with Helen in my arms and the guy with a submachine gun. He would probably have killed all of us right there.

"Do you think for one moment that I, or Diana for that matter, haven't noticed how you have assumed 'second in command' to run the Retreat? Oh, Diana is the undisputed Queen of our clan, but you take up much of the slack in the day-to-day running of the place and make her life a much easier one. My younger wives come to you, and on most things, so do the wives of the other Alphas, at least on a lot of the everyday decisions that have to be made. But you don't just make decisions, you cook, clean, take out the trash, everything, just like all my wives do. And ... you don't try to boss anyone around, nor try to take over in our bedroom."

"Other than sleeping on your shoulder," she corrected him. "Mom and I have told every wife before you married her that the two of us would sleep there most nights. I won't give that up."

"The two of you were first," he agreed, leaning in to touch his lips to hers for a second, and staring into her eyes. "I love you, you know."

"And I love you too, Husband," she responded, kissing his chin for a second. "But I'm gonna need help." Motioning around her, "She scares me." Arlene went quickly on before Jeff could comment, "Oh, I know she won't hurt me, but this ... this ship itself. Daddy, do you know how ... vast it is – she is? How can she be that way? From the outside, she looks like she's maybe a couple of hundred yards long – well when you can see her at all – but inside ... there are hallways – alleyways – whatever you call them on a ship, that look as if they go on forever. And those machines, whatever they do, just seem to go on as far as you can see. There seems to be endless ... rooms full of equipment, and I have no conception of their purpose. All of this scares the crap out of me. How can she have what seems like an infinite space within her? How can she do that?"

"And you think I know?" Jeff chuckled. "All I can say is that I told you she was a dimensional ship. When I tried to ask, what I got in response was ... well, a library of information. Unfortunately, I understood little to none of what she was trying to tell me. I'm not sure our human brains can understand how she constructed herself, let alone how she moves from one place to another. And for that matter, are you sure the passageways go on forever? Ever thought that we might be looking down through the dimensions to see the Ship, her passageways and machines repeated over and over again?

"I'm not sure she's even anchored primarily in this dimension. If she isn't, then it makes more sense to think that we see things repeated in other dimensions. I do understand that the dimensions have something to do with her shields, and I'm not just talking about a power source, either. I'm almost certain that she's surrounded herself with, for lack of a better term, another dimension – maybe a layer of another dimension.

"Something directed at her goes into that dimension, or is reflected by it. Hell, I don't know, but the scientists studying her seem to think that's a plausible hypothesis. She's absorbed every type of energy they have directed at her, yet she reflects any physical object like drills or rams."

"How will we ever understand her?" Arlene fretted.

Jeff grinned at his young wife. "How many people understand what goes on inside their televisions, or cell phones, hmmm? They still don't have any problem using them, well, unless you count overusing them," he finished, his grin getting bigger.

"You understand how they work, though," Arlene teased.

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to; after all, I am an engineer. But I can't use the end product any better than anyone else. We may never fully understand the Ship, though. I seriously doubt that the race that 'built' her could understand everything about her. They left their most advanced AI with a directive to build the most powerful warship that she – the AI – could imagine. They left her the equipment and means of developing that ship as well as expanding herself, then departed to go fight their battles, never to return. She had all the knowledge of that race and others to use as her starting point, and an awful long time to think, research and expand herself. She expanded her own capabilities until she was vastly more advanced than when her creators left her. She has built and refined this ... body that she resides in, with that directive pushing her to be better – always better.

"She has developed her own science. Science so far beyond what her creators imagined that there is no comparison. And you wonder why you don't understand her? I'm very afraid that mankind isn't, and will never be, capable of understanding exactly how she functions, but ... we can all still watch that television or use that cell, right? So you just need to learn how to do that with her. I suspect the rest will take care of itself, or at least, the Ship will take care of the rest. Whichever makes you feel better about it," he finished as his daughter laid her head on his shoulder.

"I'll try."

"No, My Wife. Remember, 'try' is a negative word. If I said I would try to walk across this room, it would sound ridiculous, right? 'Try' is negative."

"I will then," she said as she leaned back to look the Prime in his eyes. "I will."

"Good, then I guess it's time to christen this Bridge."

"Christen it? You're going to break a bottle of champagne over a bulkhead, or something?" she giggled.

"No, my Darling," he chuckled, pulling her firmly to him and leaning back on the couch as it reclined for him. When he pushed her top up over her braless breasts, she got the idea.

"We can't do this in here. I mean, uh, she can see everything we do. She's in our mind with us, and we're part of her, too."

But his lips locked around a nipple even as his left hand began a gentle massage of her other breast, the taste of her milk already flooding his mouth.

"Daddy, I..." she faltered out, her mind losing focus on what she was going to say.

Taking his mouth off her nipple for a moment, "She has a thirst for learning, just as we do. She gets to watch and participate – well, at least mentally – just as Little One does. Remember, you and I would be dead without her. Now, I'm going to make love to my wife, and I hope she'll return that loving as we show the Ship how humans – loving humans – make love to our mates."

It was debatable whether Arlene understood what he had just said, for an orgasm was hanging near. As soon as his mouth returned to her breast, she showed the Ship what a sexual climax did to one of the Prime's wives. The Ship was impressed with Arlene's tonal range as she screamed out her joy.

-------

As soon as Ben Aldridge had verified that the money was in his account, the attorney, his assistant and the accountant gathered up their paraphernalia, shook hands with everyone, and left Van and Adriana's home.

The family watched from the porch as the three drove out the driveway and turned onto the road. When they were out of sight, Ben turned to the others, and with a grin, said, "I think they were afraid they were going to step in something when they walked across the yard."

"Yeah, if I had thought of it, I would have put a few cow patties in the front just to see the expression on their faces," Van returned with a laugh.

"Oh, come on, guys. They weren't that bad," Adriana said, but it was obvious she was amused, also.

"And what's that look on your face?" Jeremy questioned his new wife.

Paulette smirked at her brother. "I was just wondering if they'll look at the bottom of their feet before they go back into their offices?"

There was quiet for a couple of seconds before the whole group burst into laughter.

Back inside and seated at the big farm table, Van turned to his long-time friend, "Well, how does it feel?"

Ben hesitated as Adriana refilled his coffee cup. "Thank you. I'm gonna miss your good coffee."

Adriana rubbed his shoulder for a second as she went to put the pot back in the brewer. "Nonsense. I'm sure your daughter-in-law makes coffee that's just as good."

"Maybe. I hope so. I make my coffee the same way you do, but somehow it doesn't taste like yours. Might be the company," he finished with a grin. Then turning back to Van, "It feels ... odd to think about leaving. But I'm anxious to see my son and his family."

They chatted for a while, all of them trying to extend what was probably their last full family meeting for a time. Finally, Ben came reluctantly to his feet. "Guess I better get back to my place – well, your place now – and get started with my packing."

Adriana, again sitting next to Ben, reached over to put her hand on his for a moment. "Just put your personal things together – photo albums, things like that. The moving company will pack everything. Diana called this morning to remind me that you were to do nothing about the move, other than what little supervising might be needed. This is a complete move, and the moving company is well aware of that, and they're being paid for it. After your personal things are secure, I would suggest enjoying a day in town, or visiting with us. Just get completely away from the hassle."

Ben stopped to grin at his pretty neighbor. "You might just have talked me into it. There are a couple of old friends I would like to visit before I leave. I think I'll take your advice."

With that, Ben left to go put his personal things aside for the movers, and the family continued to sit at the table.

Van, Adriana and Lillian exchanged looks. "You tell them," Adriana said to her husband.

"Tell us what?" Connie asked with a slight frown, worrying it might be something bad.

Van chuckled as the four newlywed people looked at him. "You need to make some decisions," he said, mysteriously.

A frown of worry crossed Jeremy's face. "'Decisions?'"

"Yeah," Van replied as he and his wives chuckled.

"Tell them, Van."

"Well..."

"Dad?" Jeremy said, the inflection obvious in his voice.

"Diana and Jeff called to tell us they had arranged for a wedding present for you – all of you."

"They just bought us a farm," Denise said. "They've already spent an enormous amount of money on us."

"They were quite adamant and didn't want to talk with any of you, just asked us to tell you." As Jeremy opened his mouth to again ask, Van went quickly on, "They've arranged to buy you a house full of furniture for your wedding present."

"What?" Connie, Denise and Paulette blurted as one.

Then with a glance between them, Connie continued. "But we have a house and furniture just outside Denver."

"The furniture isn't great," Denise added, "but it's what we use now, and it's certainly good enough for all of us."

"Nevertheless," Adriana broke in, "they've picked the most expensive furniture store in Denver and set up an account for you. Essentially, your house full of furniture is paid for. You just have to choose it. And before you say anything, Van and I have already tried to talk the Matthews out of this – to the point of almost hurting their feelings. They won't budge. Again, Jeff said it was his duty to take care of his Alphas. All you have to do is show up and decide what you want."

Jeremy glanced at his wives. "We can't take this. I need to get them on the phone," he said as he took his cell out of its holster.

-------

Ten minutes later, he picked the phone up from the table where he had placed it so everyone could hear the conversation on speaker, and disconnected the call. There was a sparkle of moisture in his eyes, and his wives were openly dabbing tissue at theirs. "I guess we need to go look at furniture," he croaked out.

-------

Jeff lay on his command couch with Arlene still in his arms, both of them asleep – at least their bodies were. Arlene, her mind deeply merged with the Ship's, mumbled from time to time.

An hour later, both awakened to look at each other, their faces only inches apart. Seeing the expression on his daughter's face, Jeff raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Something you want to tell me, Lover?" Then as Arlene sat up, her breasts swaying, an expression of wonder on her face, he went on, "Did she give you a tour?"

His daughter took a breath and looked around her, seeming to see something that wasn't there. "More than that," she quietly said, her voice somber, "she ... told me – showed me – some of the things I need to learn. I never realized ... I mean, I thought ... that she was the Ship. I mean everything. That she didn't need anyone to do whatever it is she does."

Jeff looked at her and grinned.

Arlene took a breath as she pulled her top down to cover her breasts, turning to look for her panties. "I guess I'm not making much sense, huh? But ... she's designed to have a crew. I thought she could do everything herself, but..."

"She can to a certain extent," Jeff interjected, "but there are things that function better with a crew to supervise. I suspect she'll be a better fighting machine if she's merged with a human being. We as humans have many disadvantages when our intelligence is compared to a true AI such as her, but we do have some advantages, such as unpredictability and ferocity. I suspect that no matter how sophisticated an AI is, another AI could very well, at least to some extent, predict what logic the first AI would use. Predicting what a human will do in combat probably isn't that easy, and that is where the ferocity comes in. The worn out phrase about thinking outside the box seems to fit. AI fighting styles lack human emotions, while the best human fighters have moral and spiritual edges that are hard to describe, but certainly exist. You've shown those traits twice now.

"When she and I were learning about each other and she was showing me the space battles her race had with the race that was trying to conquer them, I could think of things that they didn't try. I believe that some of those things would have worked, and she agreed my differences were beyond her logic. And ... there's something else. She – the Ship – can defend without a commander, but she can't go on the offensive without her Prime – me – in control, or the person she and I have designated to be in control if I'm not onboard and functional at the time. That designated person is you, of course.

"Just as she only fired at that mercenary when his actions endangered me, she's limited to defense, unless one of us is aboard. So, Number One, do you still think you have no reason to be my Second in command?"

Arlene, having found her panties on the other side of the command couch, stood and pulled them on. "I didn't say that, Daddy. I just said..."

" ... that you're too young, that you don't know what you're doing, that you're afraid you can't do it. Did I leave anything out?"

"Yeah," she said with a weak laugh as her movement caused a gush of his come to fill her panties. "It will cut down on the time I can spend with my husband," she tried to grouse, but his hand sneaking up her side to tickle her made her laugh, anyway.

"Don't," she giggled, pulling back and almost succeeding to get away from his hand. Then trying to change the subject to distract him, "We already have come on the couch, and my panties are getting wetter by the minute," she laughed as she felt another gush drain into her underpants.

"Ah, but you've forgotten," he said with a laugh as he abandoned his attempts to tickle her. "As soon as we're both clear of the couch, it will clean itself, and when you walk out that hatch, all that come in your panties will be gone as well. See, there are a few perks to being Number One," he said, emphasizing the last words.

Arlene mock glared at him. "That perk isn't just for me."

Jeff chuckled, caught. "Yeah, it would be the same for everyone, I guess, but still, it's nice that she does things like that at all."

Arlene struggled into her tight pants, then sat again to pull on her socks and shoes, her eyes only leaving his dangling cock when he covered it with his clothing. When she looked at his grinning face, she giggled as she reached behind her head to redo her big ponytail. As she glanced in front of her, a mirror conveniently formed on the wall. "Thank you," she said to the Ship. When she finished redoing her ponytail, she pulled her long hair over her right shoulder to allow it to tumble down her chest, satisfied with the way her thick hair looked. "So sue me," she said with a smirk. "I'm a teenage girl and I like to look at my husband's cock. I like to suck it, and I like to feel it inside me."

Jeff leaned over to caress a breast through her top. "You turn me on, too, little Wife."

Arlene let out a sigh as they walked off the bridge. "I'll be here most every day. She asked me to give her an hour of my time, and I've agreed."

At Jeff's chuckle, she looked up at him as they continued down the corridor toward the hatch. "What's that all about?" she asked suspiciously.

"Remember the intelligence mission? That only took an hour or so, too ... of our time, anyway."

"But it felt like months," the young Queen responded, then after a thought, muttered under her breath, "Oh, shit. I've been had," then louder, "Oh, shit."



-------

Chapter 207

Just before they stepped through the hatch, Jeff put out a restraining hand to touch Arlene's shoulder.

"There's something else."

Oh, crap,  Arlene thought, knowing he was serious, and wondering what else he had in store for her.

"Since you're my second in command, you'll, of course, go with us on the mission to take out the diplomat and his security, so you need to spend some time training with Art and Kayla."

Arlene turned to stare at him. "But you've just given me..."

" ... an hour a day with the Ship, worked into your schedule whenever you decide the time is appropriate. The mission training will only be for a few days. You need to learn the basic helmet functions and how to handle a pulse rifle, just like Art is doing."

"So, I'm really going with you on the mission?"

"On the Ship. You'll wait in the Ship while we take care of the two assholes, but I have better sense than to take anyone into a combat situation – or a potential combat situation – without giving them all the training I can under the circumstances. We seem to have some time, so you need to train. Just bear with me, please..."

But Arlene was shaking her head and chuckling. "You read me wrong, Hubby," she said, tapping him on the chest with a finger. "To borrow one of your terms, you bet your sweet bippy I want to learn how to shoot one of those rifles and wear a battle helmet. What about the camouflage suits?"

"Yeah, those too," he chuckled.

Arlene jumped to clamp her legs around his waist and lock her arms around his neck. "You're going to get so lucky tonight, Husband," she declared, her face only inches from his, then glued her mouth to his for a moment. "Your Number One is going to fuck your eyes out. Bet on it."

The two of them laughing, he put her down and assisted her with her coat. "Now scat. The Ship says she'll help teach me to control the surge of power I've been using to push the steel balls."

Arlene looked up at her tall husband. "Here? She's going to teach you how to do that in here?"

The Prime was nodding his head. "I suppose. I spent some time with her while we were sleeping, just as you did. Apparently, she thinks the safest place for me to learn is here, inside her. And don't even bother to ask. I have no idea, but I do trust her. I'll see you back at the Retreat when we're finished."

"But..."

"I'm as safe as if I were in my Momma's arms. Now go tell your sisters about your new job."

Kissing him hard again, she turned and went through the hatch, grinning as she felt the wet disappear from her panties. Turning at the bottom of the ramp when she stepped into the snow, she waved toward the invisible Ship, assuming that her husband would be watching.

He smiled as he turned away from the seemingly transparent side of the Ship, knowing that he was looking at what the Ship called a vision screen, but the image was so real that he was hard-put to believe he wasn't staring directly at his young wife.

"I'm all yours," he told the Ship. "Where do you want me?"

-------

Art opened the outer door of their suite and started in, his exuberance obvious as he blurted, "We have a couple of hours before supper. Want to take up where we left off this ... morning?" he wound down as he stepped fully into their living room and saw Hope sitting there with his wives. As he clamped his mouth shut, he noticed Hope's easel in a corner and her drawing paraphernalia on the coffee table. Oh, shit. I was supposed to be subtle with her, woo her as Jeff called it. Now I've... 

Amazing him, Hope giggled and slapped her hand over her mouth.

"Hope," he stammered out. "I had no idea you were here. I mean ... Uh, I apologize..."

"Oh, hush, Husband," Bobby said with a chuckle. "You should see your face."

"We've been talking all afternoon," Sandra added. "Hope knows all about you."

Art had no idea what that meant, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to ask about it.

Further confusing him, his wives came quickly over, each grabbing him into a fierce hug and kissing him in turn, falling just short of rubbing themselves on him – all with a grinning Hope watching.

Why are they doing this in front of Hope? Surely, they know this will scare her away. Somehow, his confused mind lingered on Jeff's comment a few days earlier when the Prime had said very earnestly that he did not understand women.

Despite the embarrassment, Art was barely able to keep an erection from forming as his new wives' breasts pushed against him, but the fear of permanently offending the teenager won out – barely. Before he could think of anything to say, Sandra and Bobby grabbed his hands and dragged him to the couch where they plopped down on either side of him.

"So, tell us about your day," Sandra demanded as Bobby and Hope grinned, further mystifying Art, his expression setting all three females to giggling.

"Uh, well ... I spent a couple of hours learning how to strip down and reassemble the Mark Three-A Pulse Rifle. Tomorrow, I get to learn to do it in darkness," he added, his voice suddenly a lot more tentative. "We put on helmets and watched Kayla do it today. She's just ... amazing. I'll never be that good."

Shit,  he thought, I'm bragging on another woman in front of my wives. How many more ways can I screw up this afternoon? "I didn't mean..." he began, before a laughing Bobby cut him off.

"We know what you meant, and we agree; she is amazing. Now go on and tell us the rest."

"Well, we went out to Security's range and shot for an hour or so." His enthusiasm about the rifle temporarily overcoming his worry about Hope, he continued, "I've never fired a rifle at a distant target that you didn't have to compensate for bullet drop, but on the Mark Three-A, you don't have to change the setting on the sights from one hundred meters out to a thousand, and well beyond. It has what first looks like a scope, but it isn't. Once you learn how – and I haven't – you can control the magnification, or zoom as the case may be, by using the helmet, and if you're really good with the helmet, it will display a set of cross hairs to indicate where the rifle's pulse will hit, and that section of the faceplate will zoom in just as the sight on the rifle does. That function is new, so they tell me.

"That's all way beyond my abilities at present, but I can, at least, use the sights on the rifle as well as the manual zoom on the sight. The weapon is equipped with something that's probably akin to a gyroscope. With that activated, I can hit the target at a thousand meters while standing. Not prone. Not with a rest; just plain standing freehand. That rifle is totally amazing. Of course, I'm talking about just hitting the target itself, not the X at the center. Carter says that Jeff can snap shoot the X out of that thousand meter target with the Three-A – and he can do it all day long. Never missing. I can get close to the X on occasion, lying prone with the bipod extended and the gyroscope to stabilize the rifle, but Jeff does it freehand with a snapshot."

Hope didn't know anything about shooting, but Bobby and Sandra did. Jeff's snap shooting the X at a thousand meters got their total attention. Art had never quite seen the look they had on their faces as Bobby asked, "Do you suppose that Jeff would let us..."

"Not my call. All I can say is to wait until you think the time is right, then ask him."

The two young wives glanced at each other, a look passing between them.

"We spent the rest of the time with the Mark 16 battle helmet. And before you ask, I can usually get it on my head correctly," he derided himself. They thought he was kidding – he wasn't. "And I can manually make the visor retract and manually change the channels on the radio, but the rest may as well be in Swahili as far as I'm concerned. The Sergeant gave me a list of exercises that I'm supposed to work with to help me prepare for the mental functions of the helmet, but right now, to me, the thing is mostly just a weight with a clear piece of armor glass for a visor and a fantastic radio that I can use manually, at least, to some extent. The Sergeant hasn't even touched on the vid capabilities yet, except to slave my helmet to his so I could watch Kayla field strip and reassemble the rifle in the dark.

"Kayla said she used a helmet off-planet, but it wasn't a battle helmet. She claims she's still struggling to learn the battle helmet's functions, but she's so far ahead of me that I barely understand what she's talking about. I can change channels manually and talk to others, but there are so many channels with their separate functions that even that is confusing.

"The exercises are supposed to help to teach me to concentrate on certain things that the helmet is keyed to. Well, that isn't exactly right. The helmet has sensors that, if it is positioned and calibrated correctly for the wearer, will sense activity in certain areas in the wearer's brain. When one of those areas is active – well, peaks to be more precise – the helmet will respond in a preprogrammed manner. There are a number of these areas in the brain that the helmet monitors, and there are a number of different ways that these areas can peak. For instance, two quick thoughts to activate a certain area produces something that I suppose is similar to a double click of a computer mouse.

"The Sergeant gave me a short tour of the helmet's basic functions. There were things similar to drop-down menus and icons. Some of the things made sense – most didn't, and ... these can be displayed on the inside of the visor, sort of an advanced heads up display, or directly input to the optic nerve if the visor is retracted – and the wearer knows how to activate the function."

Bobby shifted in her seat. "So that Security officer standing at the foot of the driveway..."

" ... has access to a startling amount of information," Art finished for her.

"And you're learning to do all that?" Sandra asked.

But Art was shaking his head. "Unh uh. I'm learning,  and learning only the basics – the very basics. It would take a long time for me to learn even what the Sergeant demonstrated today, and he mentioned a lot of other things that he didn't actually demonstrate. We did watch a video of a stage one overview of a mock battle from the warrior's viewpoint as he used his helmet to identify enemy troops, their armament and capabilities, receive orders, direct covering fire for his unit, and a host of other things. The Sergeant assured me that was only the basics.

"According to him, it usually takes months to become proficient with the general capabilities of the helmet, using the mental aspects. And none of the higher-level functions can be accessed without learning the mental controls. There are no specific manual controls for them."

Enthused, he continued, "Kayla told me a little about her part in the battle in Atlanta when they came to rescue us. She had never been in combat before, well, other than when the Matthews fought those people here in the Retreat, and I strongly suspect she was going to be by Jeff's side, no matter what. As I mentioned, she was familiar with a regular helmet, but had very little experience with a battle helmet. She said the mass of information she was receiving during the battle was confusing in its abundance. The helmet was trying to show her targets as well as friendly forces. She said that later, when she had time to think about it, she suspected that Jeff was sending her information via his helmet. She did manage to kill one of the mercenaries, but later thought that Jeff had left the target for her so that she would feel that she had done something constructive during the firefight.

"She also said that Jeff slapped her flat a couple of times just before bullets tore through the weeds and brush where her head had been a half second before. To listen to her talk about him, it seems that she's convinced that he's some kind of super machine or something, or that his whole team is a super machine. She said the team had destroyed that much larger group of well trained and well-armed mercenaries in such a short period of time that the battle seemed almost unreal. To her, the team had acted as if it were one person. There was very little communication, and what resulted was in the team's personal battle code that kept the battle channel mostly clear, yet they responded to commands, again, almost as if they were one person."

Art sat back and crossed his legs, realizing that he had become enamored with the telling of his day. Clearing his throat and calming his voice, he continued with, "Today, I've come to realize that Jeff's team isn't just a group of well-trained men and women. They are also very intelligent. No one that isn't could ever learn to use one of those helmets proficiently. I've always thought I was a pretty sharp guy, but that thing has humbled me. Jeff just wants me to be able to perform the basic functions with it, so that I can become a part of this mission, but I want to learn how to use the helmet the way his team does – the way it was designed to be used."

Art suddenly stopped, embarrassed, realizing how his exuberance must sound. "Sorry," he sheepishly said, "I guess I got carried away."

Bobby and Sandra were shaking their heads as Bobby spoke up for the two of them, "No. No. We're enjoying hearing about your day. What else did you do?"

As Art hesitated, Hope, who had been staring at a place on the carpet, raised her head to look at him. "You're doing this for me, aren't you?" she quietly asked.

Art took a breath, wondering what to say. Finally, "Well, uh..."

Her voice took on a slight tremble, but her expression was stern. "It isn't enough that you almost got killed saving me in that motel room, now you're going to risk your life again to avenge me." With her voice strengthening, "Have you asked your wives what their opinion of this is?"

Art shot a furtive glance at first Bobby then Sandra. "Uh..." But then his face and demeanor changed. "Look, Ladies. First off, I'm an FBI agent. Now, I suppose we all know this isn't exactly a sanctioned FBI action, but ... Jeff and the General's ties to the FBI are – shall we say – a little above my pay grade, so I only have a general idea of what's going on.

"But ... let's review some things. I'm sitting here alive in absolutely perfect health with my two very beautiful wives. But for several things that happened, I would be in my grave now. To start with, two paramedics risked their jobs to get me to a hospital before I bled out. Several doctors then went to work on me. Two very efficient and dedicated nurses took special care of me, and I solemnly believe I would have died without them," he said, squeezing their hands.

"Then, they saved me yet again when that assassin came into the room to kill me. Again, they worked together to save me. One flung herself across my body to take the bullet for me while the other blew the asshole away.

"The Atlanta office sent every available agent to protect me, and we still would have all died had it not been for the intervention of Jeff and his team. They risked their lives, and indeed, one of them was almost killed in saving the three of us. I've said thank you more times than I can count, but what good does that do? Oh, I know that chances are I'll get to do nothing during this operation, but I want to be there. I want to watch this ass die.

"Jeff says the General has absolute proof that the diplomat is deeply involved with the slaver organization, and that proof is separate to what you've contributed, Hope. We also know that he can never be prosecuted here in the States, nor will he be prosecuted in his own country. A blatant attack by two dozen highly armed mercenaries against FBI personnel, not to mention Bobby and Sandra, can't go unanswered. I suspect that is one of the reasons we have Black Ops, anyway. Whatever. Jeff is going to take him out, and I want to be there. I will be there. And if they'll let me..." he wound up, he had started to say he would piss on the diplomat's dead face, but managed to curb his temper at the last second. After a breath to calm himself, he continued a little quieter, "He can't come into this country, rape young girls, kill them, and go scot free."

Hope came to her feet, took the few steps to Art, and stood in front of him as she looked at first Bobby, then Sandra. "May I?" she hissed out.

Both nurses grinned and motioned their acceptance. Hope dropped into Art's lap and put her arms around his neck. Surprising even herself, she kissed him hard. Art, shocked, his eyes open wide, started to automatically put his arms around her, then realized what he was doing and aborted the movement. Her kiss didn't stop.

"Kiss her," Bobby said, nudging him in the ribs.

His arms encircled her, pulling her to him as his eyes closed and he put his emotions into the kiss. Time drifted away as the two seemed to become one.

Hope finally realized where she was and what she was doing. Pulling back, she touched her fingertips to her lips, every nerve ending in her body singing. "I'm sorry ... I didn't..."

Art just sat staring at her, his arms still loosely holding her as Hope's expression changed.

Sandra, afraid that Hope was going to bolt, slid over to put her arms around the girl and kiss her on the cheek. "Don't you dare even think about moving. You two finally did what you should have already done."

"But..." Hope weakly said.

"But nothing," Bobby spoke up as she too leaned over and hugged Hope. "The two of you have been dancing around each other long enough. Now kiss her again, Husband, then we'll go for a ride to the top of the mountain."

Both wives leaned into their husband and quietly said in his ear, their voices perfectly in sync, "Do it."

Art tightened his arms around the teenager and pulled her unresisting body against his chest, their lips meshing again. After a few seconds, Hope relaxed against him, an unconscious sigh escaping her. The kiss wasn't a tongue-down-your throat type of kiss, but Art did tease her lips with his tongue-tip until she opened her mouth enough for her tongue to flirt with his for a while, her mouth gradually opening more as they seemed to become one again.

Bobby and Sandra exchanged a look, both of them feeling Art's emotions.

When the two broke the kiss, Hope snuggled into his arms, her head on his shoulder as tears trickled down her cheeks to wet his shirt while he petted and stroked her hair.

"I was so lonely. Jennie, Arlene – all of them – tried to help me, but I guess I was just scared, and sooo lonely."

"You'll never have to feel that way again," Bobby whispered, as she and Sandra hugged the girl.

"But he's your..."

"Our," Bobby and Sandra corrected. "Our man."

Art opened his mouth to tease and make a comment about having a say, but a stern stare from Bobby where Hope couldn't see ended that. Oh, well. It isn't as if I'm against this, anyway. My dad used to caution me to keep my mouth shut more. Now seems like a good time to take that to heart.

A moment later, Hope's tears progressed into sobs. Art tensed up, but both of his wives cautioned him to just hold her. He held her tight, rocking her gently as he whispered into her ear. After a few moments, the sobs subsided, then after a time, Art realized that she was asleep.

"What do I do?" he whispered to his wives.

"Just keep doing what you are already doing," Sandra whispered. "She obviously needs this."

The four sat snuggled on the couch for about thirty minutes. When Hope moved, Art realized that he had also drifted off.

Hope pushed back, a look of almost panic on her face. "Shhhh," Art cautioned. "Everything is fine." He eased her back to him and gently touched his lips to hers.

"You're not mad at me?" Hope questioned when they broke the kiss a few seconds later, obviously meaning all three of them.

"No way," Art, Sandra and Bobby all said at the same time, the three of them laughing when they realized what they had done.

A grin touched Hope's lips when the others laughed.

Sandra sat up. "Okay, let's put on some cold weather gear and go for a ride. The last time I looked, it was clear outside. Let's go watch the sunset from the top of the mountain."

-------

When Frank Wainwright had bought the snowmobiles, he had opted for several types. Most were double rider designs. Some of the doubles were side-by-side, but Sandra made sure the one Art chose had a long inline seat so Hope would have to sit behind Art and hold on to him.

As they stood looking at the snowmobiles, "Sure you don't want one for yourself?" Art asked the teenager. "They aren't hard to drive."

"Not if we're going all the way to the top," Hope said as she shielded her eyes with a hand and looked up the mountain.

"We'll teach you to ride tomorrow," Sandra said, frowning at Art where Hope couldn't see.

Art wasn't used to being around females in general, let alone wives, but he realized that he had unknowingly transgressed somehow, although he wasn't sure exactly how.

After checking out the snowmobiles, Sandra and Bobby led out, each riding a separate machine. Art swung in behind them, Hope sitting behind him. As the incline steepened and the riding became rougher, Art felt Hope's arms clasp his sides. He reached a hand down to take one of hers, pulling her hand around his body. "Hang on, I wouldn't want to lose you," he said over the engine.

Hope quickly put her other arm around him as the machine bucked over an unseen obstacle under the snow. He momentarily pressed a hand against hers as she clung to him. With the cold weather gear, he couldn't feel her breasts against his back, but his mind returned to the kiss in their suite. She hadn't been turned fully toward him, but he had still been able to feel the side of a breast pushing against his chest.

Preoccupied, he didn't notice Bobby directly in front of him as she deliberately bent a low-hanging, snow-covered limb back and let it go. He did notice as the limb unloaded a deluge of new snow into his face, though. "I'll get you for that," he laughingly called out.

"Hah," she yelled back. "I doubt if you even know where you are."

"She's mad because I have my arms around you," Hope started.

"She is not mad," Art quickly denied. "If she were, she wouldn't be saying or doing anything, just ignoring me. I don't know much about women, but I know that. Besides, didn't you notice how they made sure we had this machine? You just about have to put your arms around me over this rough terrain."

Hope didn't bother to tell him that she had discovered hand holds beside her section of the seat. She didn't really have to hold onto him, but he was not the only one who had been daydreaming about the kiss.

When they had gone as far as they could on the snowmobile, they got off to walk the rest of the way to the crest. The path was too narrow for them to walk abreast, so Art led the way, breaking a trail through the new powder snow. Sandra and Bobby had ushered Hope in front, just behind Art.

Near the top, they were buffeted by gusts of wind, but the sun was out and the sky was clear, affording a great view of the distant mountains. At the summit, the four brushed snow from a boulder so they all had a place to sit facing west. Somehow, Hope wound up sitting next to Art with Bobby to her right and Sandra sitting on the other side of Art.

With the wind and their lack of physical movement, they could feel the cold seeping through even their heavy weather gear. As Hope shivered, Art pulled her closer to him. Bobby and Sandra snuggled closer as well.

Jeff's comments about kissing Hope up here crossed the young agent's mind, but he wondered how he would do that with her wearing a ski mask. If he began to remove it, his intention would become obvious. Still,  he thought, she was the one who initiated the kiss in our suite. Maybe it wouldn't be too awkward if I raised her mask enough to kiss her.

As he sat wondering, the sun, already near the horizon, gradually dipped down until only a crescent was showing. Art looked behind them, realizing how the shadows were lengthening on their return route. Their trail through the snow was blatantly obvious, and would be even if they had to use the headlights on the snowmobiles, but still, they were high up and there were dangerous areas along the route. I guess I should tell the girls that it's time to go,  he thought just as all three women let out an 'ooohh' as the last rays of the sun sparkled off the distant, snow-covered mountain top.

"It's beautiful," Hope quietly said as Sandra and Bobby agreed with her.

Sandra stood, pulled her hood back, then pulled her ski mask off. Leaning down, she did the same to Art, then leaned in to give him an open-mouthed kiss.

"My turn," Bobby said when Sandra stepped back. Shortly, she was kissing him like her sister had.

"Your turn," the two young wives said to Hope in unison.

"I..." Hope faltered as Sandra pulled the teen to her feet.

Bobby grabbed Hope's hand and dragged her in front of Art. "Nonsense. Kiss him."

Sandra pulled Hope's hood back and her ski mask off. By then, Art had stood. Smiling down at the startled teenager, he gently lifted her chin. A second later, his lips brushed hers, then after a moment, pressed a little tighter, both of their mouths opening just enough for their tongues to tease a little. Art's arms tightened around her back, pulling her harder against him. All Hope could think about was how wonderful the kiss was and how safe she felt in his arms.



-------

Chapter 208

Art, with Hope's arms clasped tightly around his waist, led the way back on their snowmobile. He was cautious coming down, just as his women had been as they led the way up. There were washouts, boulders, and other obstructions that had to be maneuvered around. Down the mountain, the Retreat and its surroundings were ablaze with light, so losing their destination would not be a problem. In addition, their tracks were there to guide them, just as there had been other tracks to guide them on the way up, but even if the tracks and lights had not been there, the trail was marked with an occasional red reflector on a tree or pole that would have prevented them from getting lost.

As they stopped behind the garage to clean and gas up their machines, Arlene, Nat, Nicki and Whitney came out of the garage to greet them.

"Hi guys," Arlene said. "Leave that to us, and go on inside. Jennie, Ann and Melissa will serve a meal in your suite in thirty minutes."

Sandra and Bobby uttered as one, "What..."

Art was shaking his head. "I can't let you clean up our snowmobiles. No way will I allow..."

"Direct orders from the boss," Arlene broke in with a laugh. "Mom says to get you inside and cleaned up for a nice supper."

"But..."

"We know what to do. We've all done this tons of times. Now hurry before Mom gets pissed and sends someone out to check on us."

Suddenly, Arlene hugged Art, her mouth coming close to his ear. "Just make her happy. She deserves it. We're all trying to help." Stepping back a pace, Arlene winked at him.

The young agent grinned back at her before turning to his women. "Well, looks like we have our orders. Let's go, Ladies."

"There's something to do first," Hope said. "I need to take Sugar out..."

But Arlene was shaking her head. "Jennie and I just took the puppies for their walk. She'll take care of Sugar until you get back to your suite. Go have fun."

"I ... Thanks Arlene."

"Go."

Bobby grabbed Hope's hand as the four turned to jog toward the back door.

-------

Although his immersion into the Ship's mind gave a much clearer understanding than he was able to get from his interactions with Little One, the main underlying fact remained: a telepath and a non-telepath struggled to communicate. In addition, they were alien to each other. To say that their backgrounds were different was an understatement of colossal proportions.

The Ship's mind had been in its infancy when her last direct, face-to-face contact with her master race happened. She had a vast knowledge (at least recorded knowledge in her database) of her race and others, but had no actual live interactions with her masters after they had left her to build and become the Ship. Much of the science she had since devised had not even been thought of by her masters, so it had been necessary to create new concepts and terms as well. In addition, telepaths were wont to think and communicate in concepts instead of assigning a word to the concept as non-telepaths do. Now, she had to convey those concepts and terms to an alien who could not even properly communicate telepathically with her. Still, their communication was far, far better than what her Prime Healer could manage with her limited abilities.

-------

Jeff found himself in a part of the Ship that he had never been in before. As he hesitated, his whole world seemed to shift, and a feeling of dizziness touched him so briefly that he wondered if he had imagined it. As he glanced down, he realized that the deck under him had been replaced by very real-appearing earth, instead. There was sparse, blue-green ground cover and an occasional bush of the same general color hue. All the plants he saw seemed to have larger leaves than he would expect. The whole thing spoke of alien. He was standing in a long canyon, fairly narrow and flat, extending a mile or more. Beyond that, the flat ground quickly changed into what appeared to be the beginning of a mountain that faded into the mists as the distance increased.

"Is this real?" he sent to the Ship, his mental voice remaining totally calm, although his mind sought how this could be with him still inside the Ship.

"Of course. You know I am dimensional and capable of this. Why do you question now?"

Jeff stood quietly for a second, then, "There's knowing and then there's knowing."

He could have sworn the Ship sniggered. "What more do you require?"

The Prime sent a mental image of Security's range.

"Primitive."

Jeff shrugged and sat on the padded stool that grew out of the deck/ground. "Maybe, but let's keep it simple for now. All I need is a target, a table to put my equipment on, and a way to see where my steel ball hits on the target – assuming I can develop the skill to hit the damn target in the first place."

The table that the Ship grew for him seemed to be identical to the one on Security's range. The screen that formed above and slightly to the right certainly was not the same as the screen on the range, though. Rather, it had the clarity of the other vision screens on the Ship. It looked as if he could reach out to the screen and touch the target.

From a fatigue pocket, he withdrew his launcher and golf tees, then dug into another pocket to fish out a small box of the steel balls, putting everything on the table. After pushing the spike of a golf tee into the hole in the launcher, he reached for a ball.

"Perhaps a discussion about dimensional power should preface action, my Prime."

Over the next hour, the Ship taught Jeff some of the "basic" concepts of the powers of the dimensions. What he had been doing "worked," but he felt the Ship was trying to inform him his method was a little like killing an ant with an H-bomb – and after he realized how much power he had been tapping into, the analogy didn't seem to be that far off. The cold chills that crept up his spine didn't seem to want to go away, either.

His mind meshed more deeply with the Ship as she guided him to another – lesser – power level of the dimensions. She took control with his functions piggybacked to hers as she slowly guided him through the procedures. Words could never describe the detail and feelings he received as he learned. There was more than sight or touch – much more; she coached senses from his awakening brain that he never knew existed. He felt like a very small child seated on his tiny new bike with a parent hovering over him, guiding and keeping him from falling, moving his feet to the pedals, pushing a hand down over his feet to make the pedals move and the bike go.

"There. Sense that? Just a minute amount more. Now hold that. See how easy it is."

Of course, what he heard in his mind was her interpreted thoughts, but as they worked the power together, he began to feel and somewhat understand her concepts, without interpretation.

He turned his launcher vertical and placed a ball in the tee. "Don't launch the projectile yet, instead, use the power to feel it. Now gently lock the energy around the ball." After a second, "That is enough pressure. Lift gently upward." The ball shot up for twenty feet or so before he managed to get it stopped. "Gently. Gently," she cautioned as she released her control for him to try it alone. "Now move the ball downward and return it to its cradle..."

Jeff nudged the power downward. Suddenly, there was a smoking hole in the ground a few feet in front of him and chunks of dirt rained down on the table and Jeff. "Shit!" he exclaimed aloud.

"Gently!" the Ship admonished.

"That was gentle," he griped.

In response, she sent him a picture of a cave man wielding a sledgehammer.

"Cavemen didn't have sledgehammers," he responded a bit grumpily. "I guess if they had anything like that, it would have been sledge rocks."

She sent him an image of a caveman wielding a big rock attached to a stick.

"Very funny – not."

The Ship's mental snickering didn't help his feelings one bit. Refusing to acknowledge her amusement, he took another ball from the box and began again.

-------

Art, his wives and Hope, returned their cold weather gear to the basement, then went to the suite. As soon as they stepped in the door, they stopped to stare.

"Welcome," Jennie, Ann and Melissa said as one.

"Wow," Art let out as he stared at the three young women all dressed in black and white waiter's garb. The couches and seats had been pushed against the walls, and a nice dining table now sat in the middle of the room.

"Wash up," Jennie advised. "Your meal will be served shortly."

"We three will use the bathroom in here. Why don't you use the one just down the hallway?" Sandra quietly said to her husband.

"Uh, yeah. That'll work," the young agent responded as he thought, How long can it take for the three of them to freshen up before my turn? And why is it that women never seem to go to the bathroom alone? Oh, well. Turning, he went out the door and down the hall.

-------

As their repast progressed, Art kept wondering if Sandra and Bobby had known about the meal prior to Arlene telling all of them about it, but with Hope present, he was reluctant to ask. It was obvious that Hope was enjoying herself and the attention Jeff's young wives were showing her.

The last course was served and eaten as well as a light dessert. Jeff's three young wives, refusing help, cleared the table to the serving cart. Jennie made a call. Shortly, Jeff and Dave came in, grinning, and removed the table. Jennie, Ann and Melissa kissed each of them on the cheek and left with the serving cart. There was silence as the three moved the furniture back into place, no one quite knowing what to say. When the quiet lengthened, Art cleared his throat to speak, but instead, Bobby and Sandra took Hope's hands for a moment, then turned to look at their husband.

"Hope has a present for you," Bobby said, her voice bubbly.

"Present?" he stumbled out.

"It's in the bedroom," Hope offered. Then, "Oh, my goodness, I really..."

"Too late to get cold feet now," Bobby teased. "Grab his hand and let's go show it to him."

Hope, her face already starting to color, held out her hand to Art. "Come on before I chicken out."

Inside the bedroom, a moment later, they stood looking at the wall where a picture frame hung with its back to them. Art was beginning to get an inkling of what was going on – or so he thought.

"Well, that's a nice frame, even the back of it," he teased.

"Hope," Sandra said, motioning toward the picture. "It's your place to turn it."

The three young women moved closer, with Sandra and Bobby taking up positions on either side of the picture frame, leaving Hope to stand in front of it. Thinking about what she had done, she hesitated for a second, her blush deepening.

"Do it," Bobby encouraged. "He'll love it."

Hope took a breath, then quickly turned the picture frame, portrait outward. After spending a couple of seconds making sure it was hanging level, she turned and moved aside, dreading to look Art in the eye.

Art had reasoned that the frame held one of Hope's sketches, and was prepared to tell her how nice it was ... when the impact of the portrait hit him. Frozen for a moment, he stood in awe, mute, as his mind took in the colored sketch of his two nude wives. In the picture, their amused expressions were that of women who had a tantalizing secret that only they knew. They were standing turned partially toward each other as if they had been walking together, each with an arm around the other, Bobby's left breast and Sandra's right one were just touching. The free breast of each woman showed a very erect nipple. The impression was that they had just realized that the viewer was watching and were in the process of turning toward him. Were they going to share their secret?

The breasts of each woman were perfectly proportioned to her frame, and proved that not only were their faces quite similar and beautiful, but so were their bodies. Their tummies were flat and their sparse pubic hair was trimmed into a heart as they stood in heels in front of a window with a scene of mountains and snow in the background. Art realized that the view depicted was through one of the north windows of the Retreat.

Art stood so long with his mind locked on the portrait that Hope was beginning to worry at his lack of response. Art just stood staring motionlessly. Hope's black and white sketches had astonished him, looking almost like photographs, but she had now used her color pencils to produce something that was beyond his imagining. Calling it a sketch was an insult. The portrait cried out to him, making him want to ask the women in the picture what their secret was. The emotions it projected were powerful beyond any painting he had ever seen.

Some part of his mind realized that Bobby had said something to him as he took the few steps to stand before the painting, but he didn't answer – didn't even know what she had said. He knew that most paintings were better viewed from a distance, but with Hope's, the detail was just as good, if not better, up close. He started to speak, but realized that his throat was dry. "Oh, my..." he finally managed, "it's... beyond beautiful. I can't..." Giving up on words, he spun to Hope, taking her in his arms, unconsciously crushing her to his chest as he said over and over, "It's beautiful. It's beautiful. Thank you. Thank you."

A little later, with all three females protesting, Art moved the portrait to the sitting room to hang it in a prominent position on the center of a wall where a nice reproduction had been, and where he would be able to sit on a couch and stare at leisure at Hope's work.

As they continued to stand and admire the sketch, "We can't leave it there," Bobby objected for her sister-wife and herself. "Anyone who comes in will see it instantly."

"Well, isn't that what portraits are for?" Art reasoned.

His two wives locked eyes with each other for a second before Bobby returned, "Maybe so," she said with a giggle in her voice, "but this one is of us nude. Surely you don't want everyone here to see us like that, do you?"

Art repositioned two seats by the wall so that nothing would distract from the portrait. But he was shaking his head. Motioning, "That..." he couldn't find words that justified the beauty of the portrait, "should be shown. It would be a shame to keep it from everyone here." Then with a grin, "Don't tell me you aren't proud of your bodies. They're perfect beyond imagining and you both know it. Oh, I wouldn't want just anyone to see the portrait, but I would be selfish to keep my Alpha brothers and their wives from enjoying this."

"You would really let others see your wives nude?" Sandra asked.

"My wives – no, but that portrait – yes. With your permission, of course."

The women sat thinking a moment before he made a small noise. "But there is one thing wrong with it," he said into the silence as he turned to look at Hope who was standing beside him.

"Oh, my goodness. What's wrong?" she worried.

"Well..." Art said, dragging out the word. When the women were staring at him, he continued to Hope, "What's wrong with the picture is... you're not in it."

There was a moment of shocked silence as Hope digested what he said, but words wouldn't come as the color again crept up her face. What does he mean? Why would he want me in the picture? Then another thought occurred. Oh, my goodness, is he saying he wants me for a wife? Surely that isn't what he means. But... 

"Yeah, that would make it perfect," Sandra said as she and Bobby locked eyes for an instant.

But Art had realized what he had said. There I go again, he admonished himself. Just like Dad used to chide me about. I ran my mouth without thinking things through. I've embarrassed her, and now that I've had a second to think about it, that comment has other connotations. Connotations that are way too early to voice. Shit, have I just implied that I want her for a wife? Do I? After a second, he had to force back a grin. Hell yes, I do. But a sobering thought followed that. Of course, by stupidly running off at the mouth, I've probably scared her away.

"Hope, I'm sorry," he stammered aloud. "I didn't think how that would sound. I apologize. My dad told me I was good at running my mouth without thinking..."

"Hush, Husband, and kiss her," Bobby reproved as she and Sandra gently nudged the two together.

"And besides," Sandra added as Art and Hope stood looking into each other's eyes. "You're right. She does need to be in the picture with us."

"But I'm not ... My body isn't..." Hope stammered just before Art's lips touched hers, cutting her protest off and blanking her thoughts.

Bobby dashed over to an end table, picked up her camera, and shot several pictures of the two kissing in front of the portrait.

-------

Jeff sat in the living room near the fireplace, reading, trying to calm his mind after his adventures on the Ship's firing range. Diana came in, sat in his lap, leaned over and kissed him.

He noted his page number and closed his book, dropping it on the floor beside them.

Leaning back a little, she grinned at her husband. "Want to see Sandra and Bobby nude?"

"Huh?" he said, wondering if he had heard her correctly.

"You heard me."

Realizing this could be thin ice he was skating toward, he hesitated. "Uh, I have fourteen beautiful women of my own. I don't need to look at a brother Alpha's wives," he reasoned, proud that he had managed to come out of this unscathed.

"So, you're refusing to admire Hope's latest work?"

"Hope?"

"She just did a color sketch of Bobby and Sandra for Art."

"Nude?"

"Yep."

"Hope did a nude? That's kinda..."

"Kinda what? Don't you think she's capable of it?"

"Diana, you're messing with me, and we both know it. Now what's going on?"

"I told you. Hope did a nude sketch of Sandra and Bobby. Art has invited everyone in the Retreat to come check it out." Then with a giggle, "You get a free shot at seeing his wives nude."

"Not bloody likely," he groused. "No way am I going to go ogle his wives."

"And if you don't, what is Art going to think about that? Not to mention that Hope's feelings might be hurt if you refuse to view her sketch. It's also the first color sketch she has ever made."

"I'm not going to look at his naked wives," he said, barely holding the panic out of his voice.

Diana stood and grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him to his feet. "This is art, beautiful art, according to Bobby and Sandra. When Bobby called me, it sounded like they were almost beside themselves with enthusiasm over this. You're the Prime, and I'm the clan Queen. If we don't go see this, there are going to be some hurt feelings. Now come on, the big bad combat veteran surely isn't afraid to look at a sketch of two very pretty young ladies, is he?"

"Yep. Yes I am," he answered, simply, as she tugged fruitlessly at him.

"Jeff Matthews, get your ass up and come do your duty."

Chuckling, he came to his feet. "If I stick my foot in my mouth, it's all your fault. And then I get to sleep with a hard-on tonight when I manage to embarrass the nurses and Hope," he grumped as they started out of the living room.

Walking down the hall, Diana locked her arm around his waist as he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm not that foolish. You have thirteen other wives who'll be glad to give you all the loving you can stand."

Jeff let out a chuckle. "And do you think I actually believe that little statement. If you cut me off, so will they."

His Queen sneaked a hand down to briefly touch his groin. "Since when have I ever cut you off? Besides, I usually have twenty orgasms or more before I pass out. Cutting you off would be really dumb on my part," she giggled. "Now hush," she reproached as they neared Art's suite. "We don't want to go in there laughing. Hope might think we're not serious about viewing her sketch."

"I still don't..." the Prime began, but shut up as Diana knocked.

When Art opened the door, Jeff spoke before Diana could say anything. "Are you sure about this? I wouldn't want to embarrass your wives, or Hope, for that matter."

Bobby, quickly walking over, reached out a hand to tug Jeff inside the suite before Art even had time to answer properly. "Oh, we're a bit embarrassed," she said, "but you have to see this. Hope has a phenomenal gift that just has to be shared. Come on."

Jeff took two steps into the sitting room and stopped.

"Move, Husband. I can't see..." Diana muttered as she stepped around him, then stopped when she saw the portrait, just as her husband had. "Oh, my..." she whispered, "it's so lifelike; they seem ready to step out of the picture."

Jeff, forgetting that he didn't want to embarrass Art's wives, walked closer to the portrait and just stood, staring. Diana eventually came up beside him to put an arm around his waist.

After a time, Jeff turned to Hope and quietly said, "If you have any interest in it, I can guarantee that you can sell your art – and for a lot of money. I've never seen a painting that has the impact this one does. And Sandra and Bobby," he said as he turned to them, "in all sincerity, and hopefully without sounding crass, you two are, indeed, beautiful women."

Bobby and Sandra returned their embarrassed thanks. Diana reached out to take Hope's hand. "I agree with my husband. You must continue this. You have too much talent to not share it with others. Whatever you need, just tell us. We have plenty of room here. You need a studio. We could have Dave put in a doorway to the suite next door, or fix you up with an area anywhere in the Retreat. Lighting, desk, drafting table ... All you have to do is say so."

"I'm not that good..." Hope started, before Diana pulled her into her arms. Before the men quite realized what was happening, the women had gathered around Hope and were all crying tears of joy.

Jeff stepped back to grin at Art. "Well, if it wasn't for Little One changing our bodies to reject alcohol, we could have a beer right now."

"How about a diet Pepsi?" Art said with a chuckle as he headed for the refrigerator.



-------

Chapter 209

Jeff and his wives had just gotten out of the shower. He had bent over to dry his foot when Arlene intentionally bumped the back of his knee, causing him to stagger. He snapped his towel at her as she squealed and ran out of the shower area. When he caught up with her near the bed, she sang out, "Wait. Wait. I need to ask you something before I forget. Did you let the Sergeant know that I would be there in the morning for training?"

"Yep," he responded as he stopped a few feet away with a predatory grin.

She ignored the look, desperately holding back a giggle. "What did he say?"

Joyce let out a chuckle as she sat on the bed to rub lotion on her feet. "What do you think he said?" Deepening her voice, "Uh, no Colonel,  I refuse to have her in my class."

Arlene grabbed up a pillow and tossed it at her sister-wife. "You know what I mean," she said to her husband, as Joyce stuck her tongue out at her.

"He'll be waiting for you at seven when Kayla and Art go in."

"I guess I need to start running with you in the mornings, huh?" the young wife asked, unenthusiastically. "Running on the treadmill is one thing, but I'm sure that in the cold and on that mountain road at four in the morning, running is something altogether different."

Jeff grabbed her and threw her on the bed beside a laughing Joyce. "Running on the treadmill will give you stamina, but you'll need more than that when the Sergeant puts you on that trail through the woods. Running on uneven ground in the snow will be different – a lot different."

"But we're going to learn about the helmets, camouflage and pulse rifles first, aren't we?" she worried as she pushed up on her elbows to look at him.

Kayla came into the bedroom from the shower. Standing nude like the rest of them as she finished drying off, she looked at her young sister-wife. "Sarge let us slide yesterday, but he said we would do the regular calisthenics tomorrow. I suspect that as soon as they have you fitted for fatigues and boots, we'll do our run and the rest of the calisthenics." She let out a sick chuckle before finishing with, "It makes sitting in a classroom seem a lot more appealing."

"Oh, crap," Arlene whined. "I knew I should have been exercising more. Tomorrow is going to hurt."

"Yep, it is, Number One," the Prime laughed as he mock dived between her legs, his mouth soon finding her pussy. She didn't put forth much effort in trying to get away.

Diana walked by, fully dressed again. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jeff raised his face from Arlene's pussy to look at his Queen. "What? Where're you going so late?"

"I think that Hope and I need to have another chat."

Jeff rose up a little more to stare at his mate, a question on his face.

Diana shrugged. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Save some for me."

"Always, Babe," he responded just before Arlene grabbed his head and pulled his mouth back to her pussy.

Smiling about her impatient daughter, the Queen turned and left their bedroom. In the sitting room of the suite, she picked up a phone and walked out into the hallway with it.

-------

A little earlier, a few suites down the hall, Hope had returned from taking Sugar outside. After their nightly playtime, Hope turned out the lights. Sugar was quick to curl up on the pillow beside her mistress' head. As the puppy drifted off to sleep, the almost sixteen-year-old girl lay there thinking, the only illumination the nightlight across the room. After a couple of minutes, a smile touched her face as she fully realized that she was happy here – really and truly happy.

Jeff and Diana, heck, just about everyone here, has assured me this might very well be the safest place on Earth. We have an elite security force protecting us, not to even mention Jeff's team or the General's other people, and we have an unimaginably powerful starship that has proven she will protect Jeff and ... by association, us too. Jeff says there are extremely advanced off-world weapons on the mountain peaks that will take down any plane or missile that needs to be destroyed, or any force trying to come in on foot.

He says the General is having that scumbag, so-called diplomat watched and as soon as they can, they're going to ... eliminate him. I wish I could be there to see it. After all the things he did to me, I would love to watch him die. I think I could stick a knife into him, if Jeff would allow it, but I know he won't let me go with him.

Her smile broadened as she thought about recent happenings. I had so much fun today. The sketch turned out better than I expected. Bobby and Sandra seemed to like it, and Art ... well, I thought he was exaggerating at first, but after a while, I realized he was serious. He really did like my drawing. And his comments about my needing to be in the picture ... Does he want me for a wife? Could I ever be his wife? Why would he want me? My boobs aren't as big as Sandra's and Bobby's, but they're growing every day. I caught him glancing at them while we were sitting in the suite. Does he think I'm pretty?

Without at first realizing it, her hand had begun a gentle teasing of her clit through her panties as she continued to think of Art and her day. He's cute and he surely does fill out his shirt. It felt good to lean against his chest when I sat in his lap and kissed him. Her mind drifted for a moment as she imagined straddling Art and sitting on his cock. I wonder how big it is. Her hand stopped for a moment as a different thought came to her. My gosh, that's the first time I've even thought about maybe wanting to do it since my asshole father began whoring me out to those evil men. When he first fucked me, it wasn't so bad, although I didn't really want to. But I hated it when those men fucked me, or when my father forced me to have sex with him later on. (She refused to think of him as Daddy.) He was okay when we first started, but after he began selling me, he just fucked me or made me suck him. He didn't care whether I liked it or not. But Art is so nice to Bobby and Sandra, and they obviously love to have sex with him. Her hand slipped inside her panties. Hmmm, I wonder what it would be like with him.

Bobby and Sandra both say it's wonderful beyond words. When I asked about orgasms, Bobby just said Art was an Alpha, as if that was explanation enough. They acted like I was welcome today, not just to share their day, but to ... be with Art, too. They let me kiss him, and I surely didn't plan to, but it just seemed right, somehow. Her fingers changed from circling her clit to an occasional gentle touching. When he kissed me, I wanted him to touch my boobs. I hated it when those men pawed me, but I wanted Art's hands on me sooo bad. I wish he had touched me there. I did manage to push a breast against his chest a little bit while I sat in his lap. I swear I almost came from kissing him. Sex must be wonderful with him.

Hope's fingers picked up speed, and the touches on her clit became firmer. Occasionally, her hips rose off the bed. I hated those bastards when they fucked me – especially that diplomat. He loved to hurt me, but at least he didn't kill me like I heard him talking about that other girl. I hated it even more when I occasionally had an orgasm while that beast, or one of the others, was inside me. Having a real orgasm for them was even more humiliating than having to fuck them, or pretend I was having an orgasm. I quit masturbating after that ass of a father of mine started taking me to those men. Since Jeff and Diana brought me out here, I've done it a few times, but being around Art today, though...  Her hips arched off the bed again as her memory of the young agent came into sharp focus. Now, I'm excited – really excited. Her fingers flew across her clit and she sucked in a breath, imagining Art pushing his cock up her. Her moan as her release seized her startled Sugar out of her sleep for a moment. The puppy stood, turned around twice before plopping back down on the pillow, sighing, then returned to sleep.

Hope lay there as aftershocks of her orgasm gradually dissipated. It had been the longest and strongest orgasm she had ever had. I need a serious talk with Sandra and Bobby. But Diana says I should go for it. Do I dare? Art already has two wives. Does he think I'm too young? I'll be sixteen in a few more days. There isn't that much difference in our ages. Diana says that Little One has told Jeff that we'll live a very long time, so a few years between my age and Art's shouldn't make any difference. Bobby and Sandra pushed us together today. All the Alphas here have multiple mates. Would Bobby and Sandra let me join them? Does Art really want me? Do I want to be his mate – want to marry him?

Then it hit. What am I thinking? I'm a whore. No way would Art want me. I'm used merchandise. He was just being nice to me today. Even if he somehow fell for me, every time he started to make love to me, he would think about all those men fucking me. No way could he stand that. Why did my father make a whore out of me? I hope that bastard rots in Hell.

Tears washed from her eyes as her good mood evaporated. I'll never have a decent man. No good man would want to stick his cock where all those assholes have already put theirs. The tears continued.

The phone jarred her awake just as she began to drift off. Groggy, worried, she sat partway up to grab for the phone, knocking it out of its charging cradle. "Hello," she mumbled when she managed to turn the instrument on and put it to her ear.

"Sorry. I was hoping I would catch you before you went to sleep," Diana said. Before Hope could answer, the Queen went on. "I think we need to talk. Is it all right if I come in? I'm standing just outside the door of your suite."

"Uh, sure," Hope blurted, worried that something was badly wrong. "I'll be right there."

Dropping the phone on the bed, she shot to her feet, turned the lights on, grabbed a robe, and hurried into the sitting room. Flipping the light switch while running a hand through her tousled hair, she snatched the door open. "What's wrong?" she blurted.

Diana, seeing what her late phone call and unannounced visit had caused, stepped inside shaking her head. "No. No. Nothing like that. I just noticed something, or thought I did, and the more I thought about it, the more sure I became that we should talk and not put it off."

"But ... everything is fine?" Hope started.

"Everything is just fine," the Queen assured her as she reached to take the teenager's hands. "Let's sit and maybe have something to drink while we chat."

"Oh, sorry," Hope gushed out. "I didn't even offer you a seat. Please sit. What would you like to drink?"

"Anything at all."

"Water?"

"That sounds nice," Diana responded as she sat on the couch.

Hope took two bottles of water out of the refrigerator, handed one to Diana, and sat in a chair.

"No," the Queen said, quietly patting the couch beside her. "Sit here with me, please."

Hope changed seats, sitting where Diana indicated. "You sure there's nothing wrong?" the teenager questioned again, still wondering.

"Stop worrying. It's just something I noticed, or thought I noticed, when we were all in Art's suite. I saw something cross your face when you looked at Art, and well, it keyed something within me. I may be wrong, but..." Diana took a breath, hoping she wasn't going to make things worse. "Oh, Baby, I don't want you to take any of this in the wrong way. I love you. We all do. But this is a ... delicate subject. Seeing the expression on your face, well, if I'm wrong, it will just be a little embarrassing for both of us, but if I'm right, this could be very important to you."

Hope unscrewed the top from her water, but paused before taking a sip. She had never seen Diana hesitant about anything. She always knew what to do. "Di, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm happy – really happy – for the first time in a long while."

"I was wrong," Diana blurted. "I wanted you to marry Jeff, to become one of my sister-wives. Jeff assured me he loved you, but that you weren't to be his mate, but rather, Art's. I didn't agree, but nevertheless, I came to you and we had our girl talk."

Diana paused to take a sip before smiling at her. "Seeing the four of you together when Jeff and I came to look at the portrait completely changed my mind. I'm now certain that my husband was right. Oh, don't get me wrong, I think we would have gotten along fabulously as sister-wives, but it would not have been the right thing to do. Unless I'm totally wrong – and I surely don't think I am – there is already a bond forming between you guys." The Queen hesitated for a second. "Let me rephrase that. I'm totally sure there is a bond already there. It will continue to grow, but it's already strong. I don't know how to explain it, but I could feel it when you looked at Art, just as I can feel the bond between Jeff and my sister-wives, or the bonds between any of the Alpha's and their mates. Jeff says it's part of being a clan Queen. Whatever, but I assure you, it's real."

"But," Hope began, "regardless of what you said earlier, I'm not ... worthy of Art. I'm used merchandise. Bobby and Sandra were essentially virgins when Art took them for his wives. Do you have any idea how many men used me – squirted their seed into me?"

"We've already discussed this, Baby. You know..."

"But you don't know," Hope insisted, raising her voice. "He took me to them every weekend for a couple of years. Most of the time, I was with multiple men. As soon as I returned from one, my father would have me clean up to get ready for my next ... appointment. Some, like the so-called diplomat, bought me for a night or a weekend, but still, there were a lot of the others who used me for an hour or two. I don't even know how many men have fucked me. I lost count. I wound up with an STD once, but my father got me medication and it went away. He couldn't afford to have me out of commission and not making money for him. I'm lucky I didn't get AIDS. You have no idea how much I hated them coming in me."

Hope took a breath, but went quickly on. "I loved going up to the top of the mountain with Art and his wives today. He kissed me as we watched the sunset. I'll never forget that kiss, and he kissed me after he saw the portrait. Today has been the best day of my life."

"You know he loves you, don't you?"

"Diana, he can't love me. I'm spoiled goods..."

"Bullshit. We've gone over this before. Just because..."

"Diana, regardless of what you say, or how good it was today, he could never have me for a mate – for a wife. He would always know that..."

But Diana interrupted. "Wait a minute. I talked to Margaret today. They'll all be back tomorrow. I think you need to talk to Jill."

"Talk to Jill? Why?"

"Because, she's gone through something similar to what you have. Her problem, at least in some ways, might have been worse than yours. She was dying when she first got here. Little One saved her, and did ... something else for her. Something that helped her get over – some problems – similar to yours." Diana took a breath and stared at Hope, "Now we both know that Little One has healed you of anything – any disease – you might have had. Physically, you're a normal, healthy young lady..."

"I'm not a lady. I'm used merchandise. Used by a lot of filthy men who soiled me forever with their ... spend, as some of them called it."

Diana leaned back in her seat, suddenly confident, despite the circumstances and the insistence of the young female sitting beside her. Then seemingly out of the blue, she asked, "If you had never been sent to fuck these men, if none of this had ever happened, would you feel ... worthy of Art then?"

"But that's impossible. I did fuck all of them. They used every hole I have. That can't be changed. Nothing can make that not have happened."

"Will you talk to Jill when she gets here? Tell her the things that have happened to you? Listen to what she has to say?"

"Di, I love being with Art. Sandra and Bobby, too. When I was with them, I felt ... well, almost ... clean. But after I left them, I guess you could say that reality set in. I'm not good enough for him – for them. I want to be more than anything on Earth, but..."

"Will you sit down and have a long talk with Jill – listen to her?"

Hope stopped to think for a second. "Okay. I will if you want me to. Jill is really nice. I like her."

"After you speak to Jill, we'll talk again." As Diana stood, she reached down to take Hope's hand for a moment. "This is going to work out. Trust me; it will."

Startling Diana, Hope giggled, then blushed.

"What?"

Hope hesitated so long that Diana thought she might not continue, but then, "I was really horny tonight for the first time since my father started whoring me out."

"Horny." Diana repeated after a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, Alphas tend to do that to us. And there is nothing wrong with masturbation. Especially if you're thinking about your man while you do it. Even with Jeff, we still do it a lot." It was Diana's turn to blush.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No, Baby. I'm certainly not. I've always masturbated to some extent, now since Little One has enhanced us, I do it – all of us – do it a lot. Jeff, like most men I guess, likes to watch. Sometimes we play with ourselves while he's making love to someone else. Sometimes we touch them so we can share in their orgasms. I told you we could do that, remember?"

"Yeah," Hope giggled, "but it's hard to believe..."

"Any enhanced Alpha can do it, but Jeff was the one who figured it out first. When Art takes you for his mate, you'll get to experience it firsthand."

"Art isn't going to..."

"He will. And he'll be proud to call you his wife. You'll see." The Queen came to her feet. "Now, I have a husband who is waiting to make love to me. You just remember that I've never lied to you, nor will I ever."

Diana leaned over and kissed Hope on the forehead. "As my husband would say, 'hang in there.' This is going to work out just fine. Now, get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it."

Diana was barely out the door before there was a forlorn howl from the bedroom. "Okay. Okay," Hope called out with a laugh. "I haven't left you."

-------

When Diana came back to their bedroom, her mother was riding Jeff's cock while he sucked her milk. As Susan squirmed and thrashed through multiple orgasms, the Prime eventually lost the nipple he was sucking on. Thin streams of woman milk sprayed across his face, causing him to chuckle as his mouth sought to lock onto the elusive nipple. When he caught it and sucked hard again, Susan's whimpering increased in volume, her hips thrashing back and forth even more rapidly. After a few seconds, she rose up and slammed back down on his cock, screaming out her joy. Going rigid, she eventually ran out of air and collapsed in a faint. Catching her as she slumped forward, he kissed the side of her face and stroked her hair, petting her as he whispered into her ear how much he loved her.

Diana, standing by the bed, had stripped as she watched her husband servicing her mother. Arlene, Joyce, Caitlin and Kayla lay in a row on the other side of the bed, asleep, or more accurately, passed out. Jeff gently rolled Susan off him, came to his knees, picked Susan up and laid her beside the others on the giant bed.

"Looks like everyone wants personal service tonight," his Queen said as she stood absently teasing her nipples. She motioned to Nat, who was obviously next. "Go ahead, Sweetheart. I'll be last tonight."

"Are you sure, my Queen?"

Diana reached to take Nat's hand and helped her sit astride the Prime. "Yes, Baby. He and I need to talk before we sleep tonight, so I'll go last."

Nat opened her mouth to respond, but Jeff pulled her face close and kissed her hard as he reached a hand out to pull Diana down beside them, then slid over, taking Nat with him, to give his clan Queen room.

Diana lay on her side, propped up on an elbow, almost absently stroking Nat's back as Jeff assisted the teenager in getting his cock lined up with her pussy. Nat pulled her mouth from Jeff's, and in her heat, slammed her hips down to impale herself hard on his cock. He felt the head of his cock slam into her cervix, knowing it had to have hurt, but she didn't seem to mind. Nicki and Whitney slid near to reach out to touch their sister-wife as Jeff began to thrust upward into her.

As Nat's first orgasm started, Diana took her hand away from the teenager's back, knowing that she would feel the girl's orgasms just as strongly as Nat did, and didn't want to pass out before she and Jeff could talk.

A few minutes later, Jeff moved the three to lie next to the others he had already serviced, kissing each one and whispering into their ears that he loved them.

We've come so far,  Diana thought as she watched her husband. Just telling him I love him seems so ... shallow. I wish I could truly express to him how much I love him. I wonder if telepaths can fully express their love for their mates. I can ... converse with the Ship when I'm inside her. Oh, I know the connection is much less than what she and Jeff have, but that's another thing I need to ask her about. I can sense bonds and feelings of my sister-wives. What I feel from the other Alpha's wives isn't as strong, yet it's there – well at least the bonds, and sometimes the feelings, too. If I can get that much, why can't I learn to get more? Surely we're not that different from the race that built the Ship's AI.

Diana's thoughts drifted, the Queen only vaguely aware that Jeff was servicing another wife. When she felt his mouth tug on a nipple, she realized she must have drifted off to sleep. "We need to talk about Hope," she began just before his mouth started southward. "No, Baby, just fuck me tonight, I..." but his lips had found her clit, blowing away conscious thought in the process. "Oh, Jeff," she hissed out as she grabbed his head and forced his mouth harder against her center.

-------

When Jeff and Kayla slid out of bed at four, Arlene got up with them. When they were in the vanity area, Jeff turned to his daughter. "Did your Gore-Tex come in already?"

Arlene shook her head. "No, but I have warm clothes, and Selina and I fixed my running shoes last night."

"Better wait until the Gore-Tex comes in, or you get a set of battle fatigues. If the wind is blowing – and it probably is – it will cut through any regular clothing light enough to run in. Besides, you need to save your strength for the Sarge."

"You sure, Daddy?"

"Yeah, Babe. Go back to bed and get a little more sleep. And ... stop worrying. You'll do just fine."

She looked at her father for a second, then, "I hope so. I don't want to screw this up."

Jeff swatted her gently on the ass as he turned her around. "Screwing things up isn't something you do much of. Now get that pretty butt back into bed and we'll see you at breakfast."

Kayla passed by him, already finished in the bathroom and heading for the closet to get her running outfit.

A few minutes later, a fully dressed Kayla handed Jeff his .45, then slipped her weapon into its holster. Tiptoeing, she kissed her husband on his cheek. "I'll take care of her. This isn't Sarge's first dance. He'll take her measure and tailor the run and calisthenics to what she can do."

Jeff seemed to shake himself mentally. "Oh, I know that, but..."

" ... she's your daughter," Kayla finished for him, "and you worry." Staring him in the eye, she continued, "She's a woman, Jeff. She's young, but she's mentally tough, and she's physically stronger than you realize. She exercises..." Kayla put a fingertip to Jeff's lips as he started to interrupt, "I know. I know. But she isn't trying out for your team, just learning the basics for the helmet and pulse rifle. I'll bring her back in one piece this afternoon. Daddy doesn't have to worry," she teased.

Jeff put a hand out to gently massage a breast. Kayla knew he was just trying to get his mind off his worry for Arlene. "Easy there, Husband. I'll gladly give you a quickie if you really want it, but much more loving than that with all the accompanying orgasms and I won't last a mile on the run."

The Prime leaned over to kiss her hard, then turned her toward the door. "Let's get out of here before I wind up calling the Sergeant to ask him to go easy on her, and insult both of them in the process."

Barely suppressing a giggle, Kayla grabbed the worried father's hand and headed for the back door.



-------

Chapter 210

During breakfast in the dining room, Diana stood and tapped a spoon on her orange juice glass. When the room quieted, "Most of you already know, but for the ones who don't, Frank, Margaret, Tina, Bill, Kathy and Jill will be back from the island this morning. Margaret called me late yesterday from their hotel suite in Los Angeles. She said they were anxious to get home and would leave really early for the last leg of their trip back. I would appreciate it if all of those of us who will be here this morning could meet the helicopter to welcome their arrival. I think that would be a nice gesture to show that we've missed them."

Dave motioned with a hand to attract her attention. "Be sure to tell them that Evie and I won't be here because we have a meeting scheduled with the owners of the ski lodge we're in the process of purchasing, but we'll be back as soon as we can."

"You know where Kayla, Art and I will be, Mom," Arlene responded. "I'll be anxious to see them this afternoon – if I can still walk," she finished in a quieter voice, but she worried that her little aside might be more accurate than funny.

As Diana sat and the various conversations resumed, Art spoke to Arlene. "We didn't do anything physical yesterday, so I have no real idea what the Sergeant has planned for us, but I suspect I'll be the one straggling behind. Yesterday morning on the road was an eye-opener, and I haven't done any calisthenics since I was a rookie agent at Quantico."

After the meal, Arlene was assisting with cleanup as usual when the AI announced that one of Security's vehicles was coming up the driveway. Diana reached out to take a stack of plates from her daughter. "Go," she said, kissing the young Queen on the cheek, then whispered in her ear, "Make us proud."

"Do my best, Mom."

As Arlene turned, she almost bumped into Jeff, who reached out to lightly grasp her shoulders, bringing his face a little closer to hers. "Be calm. Think, and pay close attention to the Sergeant. He's an expert. He won't give you more than you're capable of, but he'll push you. Sarge says Kayla is doing great, so listen to her as well. And remember, you're not out there to try out for my team, just to learn the basics and get a little physical conditioning behind you." Kissing her tenderly, he continued with a grin, "You might have become just a wee bit spoiled by how easy things come for you because of that brilliant mind and perfect body. But this training is designed to challenge smart people with perfect bodies, so don't be discouraged when things aren't as easy as you're used to. Just hang in there and tough it out."

Arlene grabbed her husband's face, said, "Thanks, Daddy," kissed him hard, and hurried out the door. Near the back, she met up with Kayla and Art, Kayla already dressed in battle fatigues. As Arlene reached for her coat, Kayla interrupted with, "You won't need that today, since Security is picking us up at the door. The two of you will be fitted with fatigues this morning. With a battle helmet in place, gloves and boots, your fatigues will maintain the proper temperature for your body even under adverse conditions."

"I knew they could do that," Arlene said, "I guess I just didn't think about being issued an outfit. I know that Daddy said they were expensive."

Kayla grinned at her. "Yeah, they are expensive. And along those lines, you're one of Colonel Matthews' wives. Be careful what you say in front of any of those people. Although they try to treat us like everyone else, I suspect that we might very well cause problems if we gripe too much or wish for something not everyone has access to. Jeff carries one heck of a lot of clout with them. He has only one person senior to him at the base, and that's the General. Heck, the Security people are here because of our husband. They're all volunteers, and from what I hear, almost everyone at the base volunteered for the security mission. It's an extreme honor to be chosen to guard our husband. Their loyalty to him is astonishing, and that's just Security.

"His team is on another level entirely. As I've told you before, in combat, the team acted as if they were one individual. No matter how many times I try, I can't come close to conveying what they did in Atlanta, and to see them on the range is almost as astonishing. So far, it's just been Sarge and an assistant training me, and I hope the classes will remain small. It's a whole lot less embarrassing that way. With the two of you there, it will be even better. I'll have a couple of other newbies to share the embarrassment with."

"Oh, crap," Art sighed, "Now you have me really worried."

When Security's SUV stopped near the back steps, Kayla pushed the back door of the Retreat open. "Let's do it."

-------

Arlene, like Kayla, had worn a sports bra under her top. Now all three people were dressed in their issued gray tee-shirts and matching shorts, with tennis shoes completing their ensemble. After stretching exercises, they warmed up with side straddle hops, then went to knee bends – only the Sergeant's knee bends had a twist. While in the down position, he introduced a calf raise (rising up on their toes for a two second count) to the exercise, making it far, far harder to do. Then came the leg raises where the two women fairly stomped Art. Oh, his legs were certainly stronger – and longer, and more muscled, thus weighing more, with the length producing more leverage for that weight to help gravity fight against those muscles as the four held their legs suspended above the floor while lying on their backs.

As Arlene lay on her back with her legs raised forty-five degrees in the air, waiting for the Sergeant to drop his legs back to the floor so she could, she risked a glance beside her. Art had beads of sweat on his forehead and sweat running down his cheeks. Instead of letting them drop their legs back, Higgins told them to scissor their legs outward and hold that position. After thirty seconds, he allowed them to return their legs inward until they were again touching, then ten seconds later, let them return their legs to the floor for a few seconds.

Long before they were allowed to return their legs to the floor, Art was not only trembling, but was shaking with strain – but he never put his legs down until the Sergeant allowed them to. Then they did it again, over and over.

Sergeant Higgins, of course, did the exercise along with the others; his legs rose perfectly and remained rock-steady throughout the exercise. When they were finally done with leg raises, then came push-ups – real military style push-ups, with chests briefly touching the floor on the down stroke and back rigid and level throughout. Anything that wasn't perfect didn't count. Arlene had done push-ups with her father since she was big enough to do them, and he had insisted that she do them properly. She tied Art with forty, while Kayla struggled through twenty.

The Sergeant, having expected Arlene to ask about female push-ups, was quietly pleased when she had dropped into position and began flawless military push-ups. Kayla had not been part of a unit, but there were still physical qualifications for off-world explorers, so he knew she would be familiar with the proper procedure, and she was, but had not yet developed the strength Arlene had.

Sit-ups: knees bent at a forty-five degree angle, heels firmly on the floor, hands locked behind the head – Art knocked out fifty in slightly over a minute, while Arlene and Kayla struggled through fifty in just under two minutes. Higgins didn't visibly react, but inwardly, he was amazed at the teenager who he thought would have been soft, and might have been a prima donna because of being rich and the daughter of his Colonel. He had led Kayla through a couple of workouts before, and knew her limits, but he would expand those limits as well as that of the others, should he have the opportunity.

After the "mild" hour workout, he allowed them a five-minute break before he sent Art and Arlene to be fitted for battle fatigues.

An hour later, their sizes sent off to the base, and now approximately fitted in their temporary Mark 12 battle fatigues, their Mark 8 boots, and their Mark 21 ultra thin gloves, Art, Kayla and Arlene followed the Sergeant down the hallway. Arlene, nearest the Sergeant, asked, trying to joke, "Does everything have a Mark something preceding its name?" but she was half-serious.

Joke or not, Sergeant Higgins took her seriously, and responded accordingly. "After the techs declare a piece of equipment ready, the Colonel's team, if they're on-planet, is generally the first to test the item in the field. One of the main objectives of the portal is to bring back new technology. In the beginning, there was sometimes an improvement almost finished in the labs before the testing was complete on the previous version in the field. The resulting confusion soon led to labeling each stage of improvement with a Mark number. Now with Security's new assignment, we get to use the latest version as soon as the Colonel's team gives it their blessing."

Just as Arlene started to answer, an alarm siren began to sound, but was cut off a half second later. "What was that?"

"A warning of approaching aircraft, but the aircraft was obviously quickly identified and the computer shut the alarm off. We're almost to the 'bridge' as we call it. We'll stop by and check it out."

A few seconds later, the group followed Lieutenant Mayfield in to stand just inside the door of Security's command center. In addition to several personnel manning equipment around the room, there were three main consoles at the other end. One console sat in the vertex of the triangle formed by the three units. The main unit was also raised a few inches higher than the others. Each had a big main screen with several smaller ones beneath and to the sides of it. A technician sat at each station, a complicated array of equipment under his or her command.

A high-res view of an incoming helicopter dominated the main screen of the command console, the two other backup consoles showing different views of the same aircraft.

Arlene, realizing that she was looking at her father's "radar," asked the Sergeant, "Is that the distance to the helicopter showing there on the right side of the screen?"

But Lieutenant Mayfield, standing just in front of them and hearing their conversation, answered instead before the Sergeant could respond. "Thirty two point nine six klicks. We have the detection limits set at thirty five klicks for slow-moving aircraft. The equipment will alert to anything above Mach 1 at a much greater distance, of course."

Raising his voice a little, "Show us the personnel inside the aircraft," he ordered.

The main screen switched to a view of the two pilots, while the smaller screen on the right of the big one showed the other people in the passenger compartment of the helicopter.

"Identify personnel on screen," Mayfield ordered, showing off his equipment.

The lead tech touched a finger to an area on her console. Red lettering suddenly floated near each of the images of the people on board. "Looks like Mrs. Reed is bringing your group home this morning," the Lieutenant commented as "Charlene Reed" in red lettering floated near the image of the pilot in the left seat. "Well, at least she's flying second seat," he finished. "Captain Madison is obviously commanding the aircraft as they arrive." Turning more fully toward the three, he continued, "Captain Madison told me that he pilots the helicopters when he has the chance, in order to maintain his certification for rotary aircraft. If his landings are any indication, he's an excellent pilot."

"Frank Wainwright swears by him," Arlene commented, "and my Dad thinks he's pretty sharp, too."

The Sergeant cleared his throat. "Well, we have training to attend to. By your leave, Lieutenant?" Higgins said.

"Carry on, Sergeant."

When the group had left the command center and were again following the Sergeant, Arlene spoke to Kayla. "I know Mom didn't expect them this early. They must be really anxious to get home."

"Yeah," Kayla agreed. Then with a grin, "We're all going to look like ghosts compared to them sporting their fresh tans from that tropical island."

Arlene leaned over to whisper in Kayla's ear, "Wonder if they're all-over tans?"

Kayla grinned back, but made no response.

A moment later as they walked into one of the training rooms, the Sergeant turned to Arlene. "Uh, Ms. Matthews..."

But Arlene was shaking her head as she motioned with her hand. "Sergeant, could I please say something?"

"Certainly, Ma'am."

"I can't speak for Kayla, uh, Lieutenant Fisher here, since she still holds a rank in the General's organization, or for Art, but Mom took me aside this morning. I'm certain – we're certain – that all of you are aware of our, uhm, circumstances. But to reiterate in clearer terms, Sergeant Higgins, there are several polygamist marriages involving people who you and your group here protect every day. I'm sure that you're aware that I'm your Colonel's wife – as well as his daughter..."

A look passed over the Sergeant's face, but before he could speak, the young Queen went on. "Mom cautioned me that my, uh, double role, shall we say, might cause you a bit of ... embarrassment, as you go about training us. I don't know how much you know about our Queen, my mother, but she instructed me to tell you some things about us, or perhaps remind you of some things. So here goes. We're truly a family. A family headed by our Prime – your Colonel. Our family, and those of the other Alphas we know, have a clan Queen – my mother – Diana. Even though she has mentioned this as she was introduced to some of the Security personnel and my father's team, she wishes me to again request that you and everyone here refer to us – your Colonel's wives – by our given names. She's Diana, and I'm Arlene. In the words of my father, I'm here to learn, and not be coddled."

Arlene glanced at Art and a grinning Kayla before going quickly on, "Art has a day's training, and Kayla has trained for several more days already, but I'll do everything I can to catch up. As far as calisthenics are concerned, I haven't been involved in them very much since we left Georgia and my school there early in the summer, but I have done a few push-ups and sit-ups from time to time," she said, downplaying what she had actually done. "My running has consisted of only two miles on the treadmill three or four times per week."

"I'm sure the training won't be too difficult..." Higgins began, still not fully comprehending what the young Queen meant.

"No, Sergeant," she interrupted, "you don't understand. I'm not asking you to go easy on me; I'm just apologizing for being out of shape. I don't want any favors of any kind. My father would be highly displeased with me should I even think about trying to skimp on my training, and I would be even more displeased with myself."

Higgins didn't quite know how to respond. Lieutenant Mayfield had cautioned him that the Colonel's daughter would be with Lieutenant Fisher and Art Haynes for some basic training, subtly reminding him that she was also married to her father. He knew that, of course, since every member of the Security force had to know just about all there was to know about everyone at the Retreat. He, the Sergeant, was one of the people whose job it was to make certain that all Security personnel were up to date on the files of those they were assigned to protect.

They were required to memorize everything in those files, and in addition, they had to be able to recognize all the Alphas and their families at a glance, not only under perfect lighting conditions, but at a distance and in near darkness, by using their general stance or walk, the way they held their heads, their silhouettes – many things that marked an individual and made him or her unique to a trained eye.

Even Jeff didn't realize how well the Security force knew his family or the other Alphas' families. Recognition training was an ongoing thing. Any time someone stepped out of the Retreat to get a package from UPS or FedEx, or took the trash out, or went skiing or snowmobiling, went down the driveway in a vehicle, or any number of things that brought the person into view of Security's cameras, they were recorded. Many times, the resulting videos were run through a filter to reduce the ambient light, making it much harder to identify the individual. They also used stills from videos to further enhance their recognition training. Should a gunfight ever ensue, there would be no mistaking a family member.

A Security trooper had to be one of the best to be allowed to join the Colonel's security force, then he or she had to prove themselves. There were few free hours to someone new to the unit. In addition to a far more rigorous physical and weapons regimen than the average trooper went through, memorization of the Alpha families required time and a sharp mind in order to pass the drills and tests.

A little later, Arlene found herself wearing a helmet that attached to the fatigues. The helmet and neck of the fatigues attached themselves to each other like long lost lovers, and it took a command from the wearer before the two would separate. Since none of the three were able to issue mental commands to the helmets yet, Higgins slaved his helmet to theirs long enough to take care of the "suiting up," as he called it.

With startling clarity, they heard him say over the com, "For our little jog this morning, I'll control your helmets. All I'm initializing are the environmentals and our training frequencies. The transmissions are short-range and encrypted, so no one will hear us other than the command center, and them only because of possible emergencies. Training accidents do happen from time to time, so they're my backup."

As they stepped out the back onto the well-trampled snow, Arlene was tempted to touch her faceplate just to make sure it was there, but she was sure Higgins was expecting her to do that, so she refrained. The sun was well up now, but the bright snowfield didn't hurt her eyes. When she turned toward the sun, a part of her faceplate instantly darkened, allowing her to look directly at the sun if she wished. Intrigued, she moved her head back and forth quickly, but the glare of the sun remained muted while everything else looked normal.

Higgins, recognizing what she was doing, commented in a neutral voice, "The computer is faster than you are. It will reduce the proper area on your faceplate to block out any glare or flash."

"Sorry, Sir," she responded before she could stop herself, knowing better.

"I'm not a 'Sir, ' Ma'am. I work for a living," he barked, but he grinned when he said it.

"Sorry, Sergeant."

"No problem, Ma'am." Then, his voice brightening disgustingly, "Everybody ready for a little stroll through our beautiful surroundings?"

"Yes, Sergeant," they all answered together, as if they really were.

"I'll lead out. Since two of you are civilians and not familiar with marching, we'll just jog along today. Watch your footing. We use this trail a lot, so the snow has been beaten into ice in many places."

Despite what Higgins said, less than a mile later, they were all in step, and mostly stayed that way, particularly after he began calling cadence, which they had to repeat behind him. Arlene found that the cadence did, to some extent, get her mind off the grueling pace in the ridiculously rough terrain, and in addition, some of the cadence was funny.

Regardless of what she had been told about their attire, she expected the faceplate to fog as she breathed her hot breath on it, but it remained so clear it was hard to believe it was there. Chunks of snow or ice splattered on it slipped away without leaving any sign they had ever been there.

When the stitch in her side came, she concentrated on "belly breathing" to relieve her diaphragm, then pursed her lips and blew each breath out hard, also making sure to exhale on her left foot instead of consistently doing it with her right. All of that was to free her diaphragm from the pounding it received, particularly when they were going down some of the steeper inclines. Mentally, she thanked her father for training her well. The stitch eventually disappeared.

She could hear Art's breathing beginning to labor and had just decided that she was not the only one with a stitch. Before she could comment, though, she heard Sergeant Higgins begin to coach the young agent over the com to help relieve his predicament.

Jeff had told her the training would be over rough terrain, but she had no idea it would be this rough. They jumped downed trees, gullies and smaller rocks, following a well-worn path. They slid down embankments, climbed others so steep they had to go to all fours, and detoured around boulders. Three miles into the run, they were all struggling. Well, all of them except the Sergeant, who had mostly jogged backward during the run, continuing as if he were on an evening stroll. She knew that drill sergeants frequently ran backward beside their units, but doing it over this terrain was next to unbelievable. Her respect for this man rose higher as the run progressed.

They had crossed so many trails, that with the fatigue, Arlene had no idea where she was, indeed, hadn't even thought of it for some time now, her thoughts focused on putting one foot in front of the other and not busting her butt in the process.

Sergeant Higgins emphasized his cadence commands, then called out for them to halt. Even then, she didn't notice until she almost ran into him, but managed to slam to a stop inches before his hands caught her. Breathing hard, she stood partially bent forward, her head hanging, some part of her mind remembering what she had said at breakfast about not being able to walk when she got back to the Retreat.

"Walk it off. Walk it off."

Finally, her mind focused to follow him as they made a couple of loops around the ski lodge, unconsciously dropping into step with the Sergeant. As her pain diminished and some of her energy came back, she again remembered what her father had said about the difficulty of running on rough terrain. She wanted to sit down, or to go to her knees, but she had managed to keep going during the Sergeant's "light" run, be damned if she was going to show how weak she was now.

"Ready to do a little classwork?" Higgins asked in a disgustingly jolly voice.

Arlene decided she didn't have enough energy left to kill him.

-------

Wearing the light jacket he had left in, Frank Wainwright was the first to step from the helicopter. "Shit," he muttered, "that wind is cold."

"A little time on that island softened you up, huh?" Jeff teased as the two slammed their hands together to shake.

Wainwright turned to help Margaret from the helicopter as he continued to Jeff. "Well, I didn't dress intending to be out in the cold long, but still, it's hard to believe that I felt comfortable in this jacket when we left."

Diana wrapped a heavy coat around Margaret as soon as she was on the ground. Jeff's other wives had coats for the rest of the women, too. When the hugs were over and everyone was in the Escalades, they backed off to watch the helicopter lift off, waving to Charlene before she turned her machine north.

Inside, Frank, Bill and Jeff adjourned to sit in the living room and talk, where a serving cart of coffee and sweets awaited them. The women, giggling, hugging and laughing went into the kitchen.

Jeff poured for the three of them. As he handed Frank his cup, Wainwright suddenly asked, "Where's Dave and Art?"

After giving Bill his cup, Jeff sat, turning to Frank. "Art, Kayla and Arlene are training with Security. Dave and Evie had a meeting with the owners of the ski lodge we talked about buying..."

"They know I'll front the money for his part, don't they?"

"Yeah, they know, but Dave is still talking about using their savings and supplementing that with a bank loan for their part."

"Bullshit," Wainwright snarled. "No way am I going to let him pay interest to a fucking bank. I'll..."

"I've offered, too. We'll convince him when the time comes. It's too much a gamble to let the two of them invest their life's savings into it. But they both think it's a good investment. Dave has a track record of good decisions, and I definitely agree with him."

"Well, you know I'm with you there."

Jeff took a sip of his coffee, put his feet on an ottoman and thought for a second. "The only problem I see is that the ski season is already here. By the time we finish part of the new lodge, we will have lost even more of the season."

Frank shifted in his seat. "We're still on the same wavelength about the quality of the lodge, aren't we? Rich furnishings. Five star all the way?"

"Yeah," Jeff agreed, "but that's going to run our starting cost way up. It's pretty nice the way it is..."

"No. If I have any input into this, let's make it the best place in the state, just like Martha is doing with her restaurant. Dress the lodge out in finery, charge accordingly, and I'll put out the word. It, like the dress shop, will become the place to go for the ultra rich. It will make a profit the first year." Turning to Bill, "You sure you don't want in this with us?"

The pilot shrugged. "Most of what I have is tied up. I'd hate to sell off my investments."

"Same deal for you as Dave and Evie."

"I don't want to borrow from you. Besides, instead of loaning money to me, just put it in the lodge and have a bigger cut for yourself."

"Bullshit. I wouldn't even be here if it were not for you. You're in, too," Wainwright said, his voice final. "I know Dave and Evie won't care. Hell, they'll welcome a partnership with all of us."

"Shit, why not?" Bill said with a grin, "but ... I need to clear it with my wives. I wouldn't want to do something that involves this much of our money without their being on board, too. But I know they'll go for it."

"Won't involve any of your money. I told you I was financing this. Leave your investments where they are. Dammit, Bill, let me do this – please."

Bill let out a sigh. "Okay, I guess. Thanks, my friend."

"That's more like it," Wainwright grinned.

But Jeff was shaking his head, although he had a smile on his face. "We haven't even bought the place yet. Dave and Evie are just going for a meet and to put in a bid today."

"It's a done deal," Frank said with a grin. "Just watch. It's a done deal."

The Prime sat up. "What about Art? He's worried about not having anything to do while he and his women hide from the slavers. He has a year's salary that's just been released to him. He can use some of that, and we'll supplement the rest."

They all looked at each other, then nodded in agreement.

Wainwright put his cup down. "What about Fred? We can't leave him out of this. With a group of Alphas investing together..."

"Damn straight," the Prime offered. "Damn straight."



-------

Chapter 211

In their bedroom, Diana sat reading while a worried father paced. "Would you stop that," she said with a chuckle in her voice, "before you wear a hole in the carpet. She'll be just fine."

"She's, fucking,  just sixteen," Jeff managed to get out past his worry.

"And...  she's a Queen," Diana added. "You didn't seem to worry about Kayla when she started her training."

Jeff spun to look at his wife. "Kayla has been part of the organization for two years. She had some training before she was sent off-world, and had already received training at the FBI academy before that. Arlene hasn't had any. The Sergeant..."

" ... knows what he's doing," she finished for him.

He hated it when she used his own words against him, and it didn't relieve his worry one bit. He resumed pacing as he continued with, "I'm beginning to rethink this thing about her being my Number One. She tried to argue with me when I told her about it, and reminded me she was only sixteen."

"... and a Queen, and a genius, and about the most responsible person I can imagine, and...  Oh, it goes on and on, and you know it. The Ship knows what she's doing. You said so yourself. Jeff, this isn't like you. You never second guess yourself."

"Yeah, well, we're talking about our daughter. And besides, Higgins is accustomed to training elite personnel. He doesn't train rookies. I'm worried that he'll..."

"He won't. She'll come home tired, but fine."

"I wish she had been running with us in the mornings. That run on that terrain is going to kick her ass. If she falls on those trails..."

Diana, increasingly exasperated, put her book down, but before she could say anything more, the situation and the look on Jeff's face struck her as funny. "Jeff Matthews, you should see yourself." Sitting up straight, she thought about what she had just said. "Don't you dare act like you're doing now when Arlene gets back. You'll embarrass her to death if she sees you worrying over her like that."

The Prime turned again from his pacing to glare at his number one wife, but what she said finally worked its way past his fatherly worries. "Oh, shit. You're right. But dammit..."

Diana crooked a finger at him with that look on her face. As he came near, "Baby, that's not going to..." he got out as she reached to pull down his zipper.

Funny how his worries seemed to fade away as soon as her mouth surrounded his cock.

FBI Office, Denver, Colorado

Matt Grigsby, newly promoted SAC, sat behind his desk in his temporary office next to the current SAC's. Matt had three more weeks of training before the retiring SAC left. To help familiarize himself with the operating of the office, he was reading through a stack of memos that had been issued during the last year. There was a knock on the door and a secretary entered. "This came a few minutes ago, Sir. It's been through the scanners and appears to be a cell phone and charger. Whatever is in there, it's clean."

"Thanks," Grigsby said. When the secretary left, he absently tore open several layers of material to reveal that she had been correct. There was a short note taped to a SAT phone:

 After you are off for the day, away from your office and in an absolutely secure area, call the number attached and ask for Colonel Matthews. The person answering will be expecting your call, and will transfer you. After you convince the Colonel who you are, he will have a message for you. 

Matt sat staring at the note, wondering, before putting the phone and charger in his pocket. After making sure he had the number memorized, he picked up several copies of memos that he had already read, put the note in the middle of them, walked out to the shredder and ran the whole group through, curiosity burning in his brain. Back in his office, Colonel Matthews said we would meet again, but I didn't expect to hear from him so quickly. What could he possibly want with me? Guess it's payback time, but whatever he wants, if it's in my power to do it, he's got it. Without him, I and all my people who were in that house would be dead.

His thoughts were interrupted when his phone chimed. "Get your coat. We have a situation."

"Be right there."

 Van and Adriana's Farm

After seeing Ben off at the airport, the group stopped by the hardware store. A couple of hours later, Van Carter, Adriana and Lillian, in one pickup, followed by Jeremy, Connie, Denise and Paulette in their pickup, parked near Jeremy's new/old house. The women exited the vehicles carrying various items from the hardware store and went into the house. Jeremy took the few steps to his dad's pickup and slid in beside the older man as Van turned the truck and backed toward the porch to unload the big floor sanders. "Seems odd to think about this being my house now," Jeremy told his dad as both men looked over their shoulder while Van backed the short distance.

Van stopped the vehicle and shut it down, set the brake, and looked over at his son. "Yeah, but I'm glad to have you back home – well, at least only a couple of hundred yards away, anyway."

The men sat with their own thoughts for a moment, then, "Dad, do you really think we can make it? I mean all of us together. I guess I'm having a hard time believing it, but I have three wives to support..."

Van gave a chuckle. "Stop worrying. Same answer as before. Yep, we can and we will. And ... talking about wives, I have two, you know. And yeah, that's seven people to support, but hey, farm families used to be large back a few years ago. No reason it won't still work with us. Connie and Denise are working gals – hard-working gals, from what you've told me. With our direction, they'll pick up farmwork quickly enough, and you know how much help your sister has been to Adriana and me. Besides, Paulette wants to be your wife so damn bad, you'll have to watch her to keep her from overdoing. Just remember, even though Little One has made Paulette's face and body look older, she's still just fifteen mentally. You need to pay special attention to her."

"Maybe," Jeremy admitted, "but I think you might be wrong there. So far, she's acted as adult as you could ever wish for. From what I can see, she understands the trust that you and Mom have shown in her by allowing her to marry, instead of making her wait another year. And Dad, it's ... odd. I swear that Connie and Denise are ... deferring to her. Oh, it's barely perceptible, and if I hadn't been working with them for the last months, I doubt if I would have noticed. And I suppose that some of it is because they don't know much about a farm or farm animals, so they would naturally ask Paulette, but ... Dad ... Shit, this is embarrassing," he muttered, but finally blurted, "She's starting to have milk in her breasts. Do you know what that means?"

Van turned to more fully face his son. "She? You mean Paulette?"

"Yeah."

"Son, women talk. Sometimes I think they talk between themselves a lot more than men do. I, uh, know about the milk." Then after a moment, "Adriana, too," Van sighed, hoping the flush he was feeling in his face didn't show.

But his son surprised him. "I figured Mom would be your Queen," then after a moment's hesitation, "Do you like the taste?" he asked as he stared resolutely through the windshield, unable to fully face his father while they talked about the present subject.

"Uh..."

"Dad?" he pushed, turning toward the older Alpha.

"Ah, shit. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my son..." Then after another short pause, he sucked it up and answered honestly. "Hell, yeah. I was disappointed when she stopped giving milk when she weaned Paulette. I swear it tastes better now than it did then. Now,  are you satisfied that you've embarrassed the hell out of your dad?"

"No more embarrassed than I am, Dad. But what the hell am I going to do with a fifteen-year-old Queen?"

Van let out a chuckle. "I didn't even know what a Queen was until a few days ago. At least the kind of Queen we have as Alphas. Then again, I didn't know what an Alpha was, either, let alone that I was one. But after Little One enhanced me, or whatever she did, well, I mean ... I've never felt like this in my life."

"Yeah, me too, Dad. Uh, Dad ... I mean ... Well, you know I was a virgin, right?"

"Yeah, that's what you said."

"Well, I mean ... shit, Dad, I have three wives. Uh, have you tried that thing that Jeff talked to us about?"

Van forgot and looked over at his son. "Where you do that thing with your mind and your women, if they're touching you, all..."

" ... have an orgasm when the one you're loving does," Jeremy finished for Van.

Van let out another low chuckle and stared forward again. "How the heck do you think I survive with your mom and Lillian? Your mom passed out and took Lillian with her; otherwise, I don't think I would have had the strength to get out of bed this morning. That enhancement thing seems to have worked on them as well as us. Adriana wasn't this, uh, excited when we first got together those many years ago."

"I have three of them, Dad. Three. And my sister is a woman. Never doubt that. I swear I must weigh five pounds less this morning. As hungry as I stay, I'm still going to have to eat more if I survive them. How in the hell does Jeff take care of fourteen of them?"

"Better thee than me, is all I can tell him," Van laughed. "Uh, are you sore?"

Jeremy chuckled. "Me? Of course not," he kidded. "I always wrap my dick in gauze before I put my pants on in the mornings. Of-fucking-course I'm sore," he laughed.

"You're shitting me," Van said, forgetting and looking his son in the eye again.

"Somebody you know quite well decided she loved the taste of semen. Blowjobs are great, but I had blisters on the head of my dick."

"Way too much information about my daughter," Van got out as he tried to hold back his laughter.

"I will say one thing for the enhancement, though; my dick was well by noon."

"I didn't think about the gauze," Van said, a look on his face. "I'll remember that for in the morning."

"You, too?"

"I never thought I would get enough of that, but they wimped me out. I had to go back to using my tongue and that mental thing Jeff taught us, before I finally got them to pass out."

Adriana rapped a knuckle on the truck window, startling both men. "You two going to sit out here all afternoon and gossip like a couple of old maids? We need that sander going if we're to refinish those floors."

Both men looked guilty. "Yes, Dear," from Van.

And at the same time, "Yes, Mom," from Jeremy.

The two men got out of the truck and into the back, where Jeremy untied the big drum sander first. "Looks like she dumped her bra while she was in there," Van quietly said as the two watched Adriana priss back inside, her hips swaying.

"Uh, I didn't notice."

"Liar," Van said with a chuckle. "I saw your eyes checking out her boobs as they bounced around under that shirt, and your eyes were locked on her ass as she walked away. Lusting after your momma – tsk, tsk."

"Dad!"

"She does have a fine set of tits," Van said with a chuckle as he pulled the sander toward the back of the truck. Jeremy dropped the tailgate and helped his father with the heavy machine. Van, still enjoying embarrassing his son, continued, "You used to love to suck on those things when you were a baby. When you had gotten almost all the milk you wanted, you would chew on her nipples like they were pacifiers. They stayed swollen and erect all the time. I really enjoyed her nipples because of you."

"Daaad," Jeremy hissed out as he blushed, and his father chuckled. "If you keep on, I'll tell you more about your daughter," the son threatened.

Van laughed out loud, but if he was bothered by the threat, he didn't show it.

They muscled the drum sander from the tailgate down the six inches or so to the porch floor. As Van started pushing the machine toward the front door, Jeremy hopped back into the truck to get the smaller orbital sander they would use for a final pass over the floor.

"What were the two of you laughing about?" Adriana asked as she held the door open for her husband. "As if I didn't know," she added. Turning to the other women, "See the look on their faces? Bet you a dollar they were talking about us, and since they're both blushing, it had to be about sex. Bragging,  no doubt."

"Baby, I," Van started, but was interrupted by Adriana plastering her mouth to his and trying to push her tongue halfway down his throat.

"Can't wait for bedtime," she said with a giggle, then stepped back to point at the big sander when Van got it into the living room. "Do we use this one first?"

"Yeah," he answered. "These floors were put in when the house was built, probably fifty or sixty years ago, same as ours. Real three-quarter inch oak. It would cost a fortune..."

"Can't buy flooring like this anymore," Jeremy broke in as he pushed the orbital sander to the side, out of the way for now, "even if we could afford it."

"We haven't deep-sanded our floors since you were a babe in arms," Adriana said. "We've light-sanded and added a new coat of polyurethane a couple of times, but we need to do this in our house, too. While we have the sanders rented, why don't we do it, Van?"

Her husband took a breath. "This is a big house, Baby, and so is ours. It will take..."

"We could work on this one first, and with it empty of furniture, the sanding and finishing will be much easier to do. Jeremy, Connie, Denise and Paulette could stay with us while we work here, then we could swap out and do our house. Not much to do on the farm right now, other than take care of the stock and get the eggs ready for market. Us girls can do the farm work, and leave you guys to do the sanding. We can all help with the urethane. Come on, Hon, let's do it."

"I still have at least two day's work to do on Lillian's biggest tractor..."

"So? You can wait a few days on that. You're sure not going to do anything in the fields or pastures this time of year."

Van knew there wasn't any use arguing. He did a "yes dear," then turned to his son. "Do you know how to get the belt on this thing?"

Paulette, who had been reading the manual, said as she pointed, "Raise that door there on the front. If the sander still has an old belt on from the last user, slip it off the drum and slide the new one on. They say it's a friction fit. Look," she said, holding the manual up so they could see the picture.

Van motioned to the hallway where the women had put the sanding belts, disks and paint. "Hand me one of those thirty-six grit belts. No time like the present. Let's see what this thing can do."

"No way is that cord going to be long enough," Paulette allowed. "You're going to need an extension cord, and from the looks of the cord on the sander, you need a real extension cord."

Van had raised the door on the sander and pulled the old belt off the drum. "I have a long, industrial grade cord in the shop."

"I'll go get it," Paulette volunteered, which meant she would get to drive the pickup.

"Watch that mudhole," Van cautioned. "I don't want to have to stop and pull you out with a tractor."

"I know how to get through it, Dad," she said as she hurried out the door.

"Bring the shop vac while you're out there," her father added.

"And our house vacuum cleaner, too," Adriana called out just before the door closed.

"Okay, Mom."

Van stood looking at the floor. "We need more light in here. Won't be any problem with the sander, I suppose, but the floor has to be absolutely free of dust and grit before we put down the polyurethane. We'll need a strong light for that."

"Shop lights, Dad?"

"Yeah, they should work."

"Paulette's already gone. I'll go get them."

-------

The men removed the bottom molding from the living room. After the floor had been thoroughly vacuumed, Jeremy started around the edges with the hand sander. After he had finished a side and ten feet or so of one end of the room, Van rolled the big drum sander into the area.

"It says to be careful to keep the sander moving to prevent gouges in the flooring," Paulette offered as she again read from the manual.

After Van made a couple of passes with the sander, he stopped the machine so he wouldn't have to try to talk over the scream it produced. "I don't think I'll have to worry much about gouging. This oak is dry and hard. The sander takes the old poly off easily, but it's barely removing anything from the wood itself. The floor has had sixty or so years to dry, and it was quality to begin with. Just look at that," he said as he motioned to where the sander had made a first pass. "This is going to be beautiful when we're done."

-------

Taking a break, Van, Adriana and Lillian sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and eating cake that Paulette had baked a couple of days previously. Van smiled at his first wife. "So, what did Diana have to say when you talked with her?"

"We were talking about Thanksgiving. I volunteered to bring some pies. Lillian and I are going to bake pumpkin, and Jeremy's wives are doing mincemeat. Oh, by the way, we, the women that is, will be driving up early to help with food preparation. You guys can come on after you've fed the animals."

Van, a bit worried, reached over to take his wife's hand for a moment. "You okay with this? With being gone on Thanksgiving, I mean? We've always had our Thanksgiving dinner at home."

Adriana smiled at him, touched that he would think of her feelings. "Yeah," then after a pause, "Yeah, I think I am. Thanksgiving and Christmas meals have always been the highlight of the holidays for me, but I think this will be a lot less stressful. And ... somehow, it feels..."

" ... almost like going home," Van finished for her. "Right?"

"Yeah, I guess it does. It's hard to believe we have become so close to people we didn't even know a short while ago, let alone that we'll live ... well, a long time. But I want to be there with Diana and the others to help with our big meal." There was a moment of hesitation, then, "Oh, Van, do you realize what all they have done for us? Our son is back home, and our daughter will never go off to live somewhere away from us. She'll be just next door – right here. This is her kitchen we're sitting in. And my best friend in the whole world," she continued, reaching to squeeze Lillian's hand, "is now my sister-wife. We'll be together forever."

The Retreat

Diana leaned against the counter in her kitchen as Jeff kissed her neck, his hands already pushing her top up, his intention of sucking on her breasts obvious. Just as his hand reached a breast, the AI turned the television on at the end of the kitchen and announced that one of Security's SUV's was making its way up the driveway. "Well, here they come," she said.

Jeff's head snapped around to focus on the picture. "I'm going to meet her at the back door," he began, but Diana's grasp on his arm made him stop before he could take a step.

"Shit, Di. I'm worried..."

"And so am I, but she's a woman now, not some little girl that needs to be coddled. Unless I miss my guess, she's proud of herself right now. Let's let her enjoy telling us about her day. Kayla has done this before, and you didn't run to the back to check on her."

Jeff sighed. "I think Kayla has done some running with Security, but I don't know how much, though, and she runs with me in the mornings. But Arlene ... Baby, I've run those trails. They're a bitch for fully-trained warriors. But Kayla has been off-world and probably seen a lot of rough stuff that Arlene hasn't..."

"Jeffff."

"Oh, all right. I'll sit my ass down and drink some coffee," he grumbled.

"And I'll put some food out. They'll need a snack before supper. With Art, that will probably mean at least one steak," she said with a titter in her voice.

-------

Bobby and Sandra weren't afraid of hurting Art's feelings and met the three at the back door. It didn't take a genius to see that there were three tired people who just walked in.

Bobby grabbed Art's left arm and hugged herself to him. "Well, it must not have been too bad. Your fatigues are still clean."

Sandra grabbed his other arm and gave him a quick kiss. As she pulled away, Art answered. "If you give them long enough, these new model fatigues clean themselves. Trust me; they've seen plenty of snow, ice and dirt. But I need a shower," he continued.

"Me, too," Arlene and Kayla answered as one.

"And about ten hours of sleep," Arlene muttered as she aimed her tired body down the hall. "Daddy is not going to get any from me tonight. Just don't anybody wake me up."

"And how did you fare?" Sandra asked Kayla as they watched Arlene walk slowly away.

"I'm in a little better shape. I held back some in reserve when we did calisthenics. Arlene gave it her all. We started the day with calisthenics, and ended it that way, plus a three-mile jog across some of the most impossible terrain you could ever imagine, and the classroom study was intense, as well."

"Crap, I knew I was out of shape," Art complained, "I just didn't know how badly out of shape I was, or am. That Sergeant didn't even break a sweat, and he did everything we did, and then some. I'm gonna hurt in the morning," he finished with a sigh. "I'll be too stiff to get out of bed."

"We'll give you a massage, Baby," the nurses said in unison as they pulled him down the hall.

-------

Jeff put his cup down. "The AI says she's in the shower. Do you suppose it's okay to go check on her now?" the worried father asked.

When he stood, Diana gave him a little shove. "Go on, but Jeff, don't you make over her too much and cause her to cry. Just wash her back or give her a good screwing. She doesn't need her Prime showing his worries over her."

"Yes, Dear," he said in a mock contrite voice, then ducked a flying dishtowel.



-------

Chapter 212

Van and Adriana's Farm

Van had halved the area of the living room floor he was working on. With the belt sander on the first section, he started with the coarse grits and worked his way to the finer ones, the women vacuuming as he finished each grit. As he moved onto the other half of the floor to start over, Jeremy began going through the fine grits with the orbital sander on the section Van had just finished. Jeremy's sanding would bring the floor to the perfectly smooth and scratch-free surface they would eventually put the high gloss poly on. They had decided that halving the work area and keeping both machines running as much as possible would speed things up.

The intense vacuuming between grits seemed to take almost as much time as the sanding itself, but any of the bigger grit left on the floor would leave a scratch when the finer belt or pad was used in the next step, so the floor had to be super clean before the next grit change.

"What're you smiling at?" Lillian asked her sister-wife as the women waited while the men worked through another sanding grit.

Adriana let out a soft chuckle. "If you accused either of them of being perfectionists, they would vehemently deny it – yet they both are. Nothing they do is ever just 'good enough' for them, it must be perfect, or 'right' as Van calls it."

"Which is the reason my tractor will run as good as a new one when Van's done with it," Lillian said. "And yeah, I've noticed him doing that for years."

"You don't know the half of it," Adriana proudly said, bragging on her husband. "On a rebuild, Van even weighs each piston and connecting rod on a very sensitive scale. If any of the parts are even slightly heavy, he grinds a little of the metal off in a place designed for that, until all the parts are identically the same weight – not just within specs, but precisely to specs. He calls it part of the 'balancing process.' He's just as precise with a torque wrench. When he's done with your engine, it will run almost totally vibration free. He says the vibration resulting from unequally balanced parts causes an engine to wear out much quicker, but balancing an engine takes time, so the manufacturer only gets things 'in the ballpark.'

"But in the long run," Adriana continued, "he winds up spending less time, because whatever he does doesn't have to be redone for a long time. That perfect tractor engine will run longer before it has to be rebuilt again. Sometimes, he frustrates me with his thoroughness, but I usually wind up realizing he's right."

"Jeremy was the same way at the steel company," Denise said. "Even though he was just a laborer like me, the bosses soon learned to depend on him. If they sent him to do something, it was done, and done properly. Anything he worked on was perfect when the job was over."

"He's always been that way; his father taught him," Adriana proudly said. Then after a moment, "It's going to be a few minutes before they need us again. Let's all sit in the kitchen where we can chat. I have an idea about some things, and I want to make sure we all agree."

A few moments later, with soft drinks Paulette had earlier brought back from next door, the women sat at Connie, Denise and Paulette's kitchen table. Ben had left the table and chairs for them, saying the table was just too big to fool with taking with him, and was more than he needed, anyway. Adriana took a sip of her drink, put it down, leaned back, and looked at the other women. "We've talked a little about how all the wives get along at the Retreat." When everyone nodded, she went on, "Even though we were new to them, they treated us as family. But there was more than that. There was a ... casualness about, uh, various aspects of sex..."

"No bras," Paulette offered.

"A lot of kissing, hugging, and even a little, mostly-hidden groping," Lillian offered. "Is that what you mean?"

"Yeah, all of that," Adriana agreed, "and ... more. Diana must have noticed an expression on my face, because she invited me to go for a stroll down the hall. We sat in one of those beautiful alcoves looking out at the mountains and had a chat. The bottom line, as my husband would say, is that we, to some extent like them, are a group of adult women with only two men. Each of our two groups has only one man, of course."

The women were staring at her. "Do you suggest we share the men?" Denise wanted to know, doubt prominent in her voice.

"Goodness,  no," Adriana quickly responded. "But then again, that's not too far from my point. Look, it's like this. When Van and I were first married, we screwed like rabbits, all over the house. Heck, he's bent me over a feeding trough in the barn more than once, but ... when Jeremy was born, we had to curb a lot of the spontaneity, and after you came along, Paulette," she said, smiling at her daughter, "we had to cut back even more with two kids in the house.

"After our children were in school, it got better," she continued, talking to all of them now, "but we were both working our butts off on the farm, so even with them out of the house for several hours, we still didn't do it much in the daytime, except for a quickie at lunch, occasionally. By the time we were ready for bed at night, we were frequently exhausted and had little energy left for lovemaking."

"But..." Paulette started before Adriana raised a hand a little to forestall her comment.

"Now, we're faced with a bit of that problem again. Oh, we don't have kids to hide our love life from, but there are two groups of us that will be very closely associated for ... well, forever. And ... since we're going to do the floors in both houses, we'll be in even closer contact for the next week or two ... while we are all essentially on our honeymoons."

There was silence as they digested her comments. "And ... there's more. We've all been enhanced by Little One. That means a lot of different things, I suppose, but to keep to the subject, it means that all of us women are going to be super horny, and waiting for bedtime – bedtime with everyone in the same house. We don't have the sound insulation in either of these houses that the Retreat does, but I for one don't want to make love while biting on a pillow to keep the noise down. Besides, with a pillow over my face, I can't see my husband as we make love, and I love to watch his face when he comes, not to even mention kissing him."

There were giggles and chuckles from the others as she went on. "Van and I have always had wonderful sex, but after the enhancement, sex – making love – whatever you want to call it, is different. About a thousand times different. Be damned if I'm going to try to curb my feelings for my man – for our man," she finished as she reached to take Lillian's hand for a moment.

"So we need to rethink all of us staying in the same house while we work on the other one?" Connie broke in to ask.

"No," Adriana objected, "absolutely not. What I'm suggesting is to have something similar to what I suspect is going on at the Retreat. The Alphas don't share their women, but there's a more relaxed atmosphere where sex is concerned. Diana said that she and Jeff made love in the living room once while Dave and Evie did the same thing a few feet away. They weren't staring at each other, and were certainly not touching, or anything like that. It was something that just happened, but a little discreet making out, a hand under a top playing with a boob, or the man circumspectly sucking a titty as the couple lies together on a couch while others are in the room, or might walk into the room, is okay with the Matthews.

"I propose that we adopt the same ... uh, relaxed strategy, if that's the term I'm looking for. It's not as if this is totally foreign to us. There are four in your family," she said, nodding to Connie, Denise and Paulette. "And Lillian and I love watching each other as we make love to our husband. I'm not suggesting that we all gather in the living room and start having sex, just that we get a bit more practical about certain things. One of those things will be sound, especially for the next week or two while we all live in the same house.

"Another is the way I suspect we all feel right now. I would love to grab my husband and drag him out the door for a little catch-up next door, and I'm sure Lillian would like to go with me, right?" she said as she grinned at her sister-wife.

"You know it," Lillian said with a chuckle. "My panties are wet just talking about sex."

"But none of us would dare do something like that right now, would we? And..." Adriana continued, "On the other hand, I don't want it to be considered a major catastrophe if someone walks in and catches me bent over the couch, or I walk in on someone else. Not even an 'oops, sorry, ' is necessary as far as I'm concerned. Heck, if you want to chuckle or giggle – go for it. Sex is just something that Alphas and their mates do a lot of, and I for one, want to do it a lot, and...  I don't want to worry about my extended family catching me or worrying about catching me. Diana and her sister-wives seem to think it's just part of life. I'm certainly not suggesting a commune, but I do want us to relax around each other. Jeff and Diana say we're different – Alphas and their wives are different, that is. I agree with them. I'm beginning to feel all of you, and particularly my sister-wife and our husband, just like Diana said I would.

"Around outsiders, we'll wear conservative clothing and bras. Around our family or other Alpha families, we'll be more relaxed. And if my son gets a kick out of looking at my boobs or ass through my clothing, well, he's welcome to do it. And if he walks in and occasionally catches me without a top on, or sees my boobs bouncing around when Van is fucking me, well, it won't kill either of us. Heck, he has an ass worth checking out, too," she giggled.

"He surely does," Connie laughed.

After the laughter died down, "Are you sure our men will go for this, Mom? How are we going to persuade them if they don't?" Paulette asked, worry in her voice.

Adriana looked over at her daughter and sniggered. "You're sitting on the persuader, Sweetie." As Paulette blushed, her mother went on, "Let me pass on some advice that I learned from a lady I used to know when I was not much older than you. Use what's between your legs, not only to make love with your husband, but to reward him from time to time, even though he might not realize exactly why you're rewarding him, but never withhold it to punish him – ever. He'll resent it, and that resentment can grow, and then your resentment will grow because of the way he begins to treat you. Now you're not getting any, and you become cross. He's not getting any, and he becomes even more cross. It quickly turns into a vicious cycle. If you're aggravated at him, make love to him, anyway. It's a bit difficult to stay mad while you're coming ... well, make that darn near impossible," she finished with a giggle.

There was silence as Adriana picked up her drink and took a sip, waiting. Then, "So what do you think of my idea, ladies?"

The women looked at each other for a moment, all waiting for someone else to speak first. Paulette, looking embarrassed, said, "I think I would just about die if Daddy walked in with me bent over the couch and Jeremy, uh..."

"Fucking you," her mother supplied.

"Uh, yeah," Paulette said, now blushing furiously.

"It's not something that's going to happen every day, Sweetie. Might never happen to you, but with our more relaxed atmosphere, if it eventually does happen, you shouldn't be embarrassed at all. It's just an Alpha making love to his wife."

Connie let out a giggle. "Well, when I get going with Jeremy, I wouldn't notice if the roof blew off. So, it's all right with me."

"Me, too," Denise agreed.

"Lillian?"

"Oh, I'll be embarrassed, I suppose, but I think you're right. Something has to change if our polygamist relationships work out. We're going to be living close and working even closer. If I decide to caress my husband while he's standing beside the tractor with others of us not far away, well ... we're all adults here."

Paulette blushed at being included as an adult, but smiled at the compliment.

"So, Paulette, are you on board, too?" Adriana asked her daughter.

"Yeah," she said, but grinned as she continued, "but don't get pissed if I walk in on you and Dad."

"Just don't do it on purpose," Adriana admonished, but she knew that Paulette was likely to do just that to tease her.

"So, when do we tell them?" Lillian wondered aloud.

The women all looked at each other, then coming to a silent agreement, began to laugh. "Tonight, when we're making love," Adriana said. "I'm going to relax and scream my head off when I come. Van will figure it out soon enough."

"Adriana," Van called from the living room, "we need a vacuum in here."

"Be there in a sec, Darling," a laughing Adriana called out as she pushed her chair back and stood with the others.

The Retreat

Jeff stripped his clothes off and stepped into the shower. Kayla, leaning forward, was in the process of rubbing shampoo into her hair. Tilting her head to glance sideways at him, she smiled, then nodded at Arlene. As Kayla stood, she put a soapy hand behind his neck, pulled his head close to her lips and whispered into his ear, "She's in worse shape than I am."

Jeff smiled and turned to his daughter, who was standing with her hands against the wall, leaning forward under the streams of hot water. He squeezed shower gel into a palm, then put his other hand on Arlene's shoulder, gently pulling her back a little out of the spray. As he rubbed the gel on, he kneaded the bunched-up muscles of her back and shoulders. His voice soothing in her ear, he quietly said, "It will get easier, Baby. He'll probably have a very light workout the next time to help get the soreness out. Plus, you'll have a day off because of Thanksgiving."

"And the next day will be hell again," Arlene said with a sick giggle, "I guess I thought that our martial arts classes would help more with this than they have. Trust me; the Sergeant found some new muscles to exercise today. And ... there's no way I can bitch. He's probably close to three times my age and he never broke a sweat. Shit," she mumbled as she leaned against the wall again, letting the hot water flush away the soap, and, hopefully, some of the fatigue and stiffness.

"You need to finish up here and eat a good meal. Your enhancement will kick in and bring you back a lot quicker if you have food in your bellies," Jeff told his women.

"I could eat that proverbial horse," Arlene said, standing back upright and turning to him. When his eyes naturally dropped to her luscious breasts, she let out a giggle. "Don't even think about it, Husband. I doubt if I have strength enough to come right now. There isn't an inch of my body that doesn't hurt or is exhausted – or both. I just want to eat something and go to bed – to sleep," she quickly added as he mock-leered at her.

-------

A few minutes later, Jeff sat in his office as his SAT phone rang. When Matt Grigsby was on the line and had identified himself, Jeff, to make certain he was talking to Grigsby, asked, "In Atlanta, what was the very first thing you noticed when I came into the kitchen where you were?"

"Uh ... two puddles of water forming on the floor," Grigsby answered with an accompanying chuckle.

"So, how's the new job coming along, Matt?"

"Still training with the retiring SAC."

"I heard that you had some time to take off. How did that go?"

"Well, you know how it is. I took off a couple days to get settled in our new house, then went on in. But I'm off until Monday. SAC says the ASACs will take up the slack, and besides, 'rank hath its privileges' – according to him. He's still my boss for now, so I'm off."

"And, if I might be so bold as to ask, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?"

Grigsby hesitated for a second. "Well, we don't know anyone in the Denver area, and I told Courtney there was no use in her cooking for just the two of us, so we chose a good restaurant and gave them a call. We'll be having a nice meal with them at noon tomorrow."

"Uhm, that sounds okay, but ... I would like for you to do something for me."

Grigsby figured payback had to come sooner are later, and thought, I owe this man my life. "What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"Eat Thanksgiving dinner with us tomorrow, and spend the weekend with us."

There was a moment of hesitation. "Sir?" Grigsby finally said.

"No use the two of you being alone on Thanksgiving. Time for you to meet my extended family. Tell your wife that I guarantee she'll enjoy herself and feel welcome. Pack a bag to spend Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights with us. I'll send a helicopter for you. If your wife objects, I'll send my wife to talk to her, but for security reasons, I had rather not do that."

"Where do we meet the helicopter? The airport in Denver?"

"No. There's a clearing about two hundred yards northwest of you. The copter will meet you there at seven-thirty on the nose."

"I know where the clearing is. I jog out that way, but that whole area is wooded. It could be dangerous for a helicopter coming in there at night..."

"Not this one. It will be blacked out and almost totally silent. You're pretty isolated there. None of your neighbors will hear or see it, nor will it show up on radar. Do you trust me, SAC?"

Grigsby held back a chuckle. "I wouldn't be here if it were not for you."

"Then talk your wife into the trip and meet the copter. I promise the trip will be worth your while."

"We'll be waiting at seven-thirty, Colonel."

"Good. Casual clothes, Matt. We're just homefolks. See you tonight. And you two will eat supper with us this evening. We'll hold off our meal until you arrive."

The phone connection went dead.

Grigsby sat staring at the phone for a moment before he locked it in his desk drawer. Standing, he opened his office door and stepped into the hallway. "Honey, we have a dinner invitation for tonight," he called out in his most innocent voice.

A moment later, Courtney met him in the hallway, a slight frown on her face. "A dinner invitation? Who from? Your boss?"

"Nope. It's from the Colonel I told you about who rescued us. Actually, the invitation is for three nights."

"'Three nights?'" she answered, the frown increasing. "We don't even know this man, and we're going to spend three nights with him? Honey..."

"I owe him my life, Baby," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking into her pretty eyes, "as do all the agents that were there that night. I need to get to know him a lot better."

"But what does he want with us?"

"Hell, I don't really know," he said, hugging her for a second. "It seems that he's invited us to have Thanksgiving dinner with his extended family."

"But ... but," she stammered, looking up at him. "I can't just go to a Thanksgiving dinner at someone's home without doing my share. We'll have to take something with us. I need to talk to his wife. I..."

"Sorry, Babe. No way am I going to try to call him back on a secure SAT phone to ask what to bring. It doesn't ring straight to him. No telling how it was routed. You're just going to have to wing it. They won't be expecting you to bring anything..."

Courtney put her hands on her hips and mock-glared at her husband. "I'm from Georgia, Buster. No way am I going to a dinner with an extended family as hosts without my bringing some of the dinner. Let me see what I have in the kitchen. You might be making a hurried trip to the grocery store. Crap, I'm glad you got off early, otherwise I would never be ready by seven-thirty."

She spun to head for the kitchen, then turned back to him. "You need to call the restaurant and cancel our reservation." Not waiting for an answer, she turned to hurry toward the kitchen, muttering to herself, "I think I have enough pecans for a couple of pies. It's Thanksgiving, and that's a traditional dish. I wish I could coordinate with his wife..." her muttering faded away as she went into the kitchen. A second later, she yelled out, "Hon, I suggest you go ahead and get your clothes packed. Then please find the small cooler and make sure it's clean." Then mostly to herself, "Now what did we do with my pie takers when we unpacked after the move?"

Grigsby decided the last question was rhetorical, since he didn't even remember boxing them up in Georgia, let alone what they did with them when they got here. I think I'll pack my things and keep a low profile for a while,  he mused.

After the phone call to the restaurant, he soon finished his packing. Not having heard anything else from his wife, he stuck his head in the kitchen door. Courtney, flour on her cheek, was rolling out pie dough. "As soon as I get these in the oven, I'll shower and pack my things. I still haven't found my pie takers. We may have left them in the basement. How about checking for me? They're clear plastic with a carrying strap on top. I'll need two of them. Oh, and forget the cooler. I'll just stick with the pies. They're easy and we can warm them in a microwave before we eat tomorrow."

He walked over and kissed her, automatically sliding a hand under her top. But she gently pushed him away, leaving a white handprint on his shirt. "I need to keep my mind on this, Lover," she chided. "There's time for only one try at the pies before we have to leave. Now go find my takers, please," she finished with a giggle.

Well, she must have decided she has everything she needs,  the new SAC thought as he headed to do her bidding.

The Retreat

Jeff, Frank, Bill, Art, Dave and Evie sat in Jeff's office, coffee or soft drinks before each. Jeff cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "All right, we're agreed then. We're to include all the Alphas in the ownership of the lodge, should we wind up with it."

Turning to Dave and Evie, who were sitting on the couch, "Okay. How did it go?"

"Well," Dave began, "first off, we didn't do what you suggested." At Jeff's questioning look, Dave grinned and went on. "Instead of making an honest bid, we lowballed it. I know – I know," he quickly injected before Jeff could respond, "It turns out this isn't an individual, or just a couple of guys trying to make a buck, but what we suspect is a group of speculators, and to be fair, I really didn't like them."

"No one else even bid," Evie added.

"No one?" the Prime said with raised eyebrows.

"Unh uh. Our sources say the project has had problems from the beginning. I think most investors have been scared off."

"Uh, well, I only gave guidelines. You two are my project managers. You know I don't try to micromanage. I leave the bidding up to you. But I don't want anyone screwed over just because we can," Jeff injected.

"Surely you don't think..."

"Of course not. Sorry. That didn't come out exactly the way I meant it."

There was a pause, then, "They took it," Evie said, and told them how much she and Dave had bid. Into the stunned silence, "Oh, we didn't try to screw over them. They probably broke even with the money they've spent, but you can bet they didn't make anything on the deal, or won't when this is over," she qualified.

"You're shitting me," Jeff said. "They took it, and nobody else bid?"

Wainwright sat laughing. "If you two ever need a job..." he wheezed as everyone joined in with his laughter. Then, "Now, I damn sure know we'll make money on this deal – all of us."

"And I don't care about that," Jeff broke in. "I just want a secure future for Alesha and Jesse."

"They shouldn't just have to have jobs," Wainwright said. "Make them part owners with the rest of us. And we don't have to tell them right now. Leave it for a surprise for later. Maybe tell them about it with a check for their part of the profits. Hmmm, maybe do it for a Christmas present next year after the place is completed and totally on its feet. I'll front their part, of course."

"No, I will," Jeff argued. "They saved my wife."

"Both of us, then," Wainwright compromised, "but let them think they're just employees for the time being. Albeit, employees with very nice salaries," he chuckled.

"And really nice benefits," the Prime added. "Agreed," he finished.

Jeff turned back to Dave and Evie. "Get in touch with our attorney and accountant. Make it happen."

"You've got it, Boss," Dave and Evie said together, then looked at each other and laughed.

"Only one thing wrong, Boss," Dave said with a grin.

Jeff looked at him with a raised brow.

"Not 'make it happen. Make it so.'"

"What?" Jeff started, but stopped for a second, his face clouding as the others laughed, the Prime knowing what Dave was probably going to say.

"You're the commander of a starship. You're supposed to say, Make it so."

"Bullshit," Jeff responded, irritated that yet another person remembered the phrase and applied it to him. But despite his irritation, he had to force himself to not grin. "It's not gonna happen."

"Too bad," Evie said with a giggle. "I always liked Picard. I thought he was a neat character." Then sobering, "When do you tell Alesha and Jesse about their future employment?"

"When the property becomes ours," Jeff answered. "Mum is the word until then."

"Alesha is going to pee in her pants when she finds out she's going to manage the lodge," Evie laughed as she and her husband, holding hands, got up to leave.

"And Jesse will have another full-time salary as live-in security during his off-time from the Sheriff's department," Jeff added. I owe those two more than I can ever repay,  he thought. Then as the two turned to leave, "Wait up guys, I just thought of something else. When we buy this place, you two need to get with the architect. We need to make sure that Alesha and Jesse have a very nice apartment on the premises. Maybe on the back side away from most of the activity. A very nice place with plenty of room for kids. Tell the architect to make us proud."

"You got it, Boss," Evie said with a little mock salute before she and Dave walked on out the door.



-------

Chapter 213


Fred, Carla, Brenda and Audrey sat on the new furniture in their living room on the farm. The drapes were pulled back from their big picture window so they could watch the light snow falling, the roaring fire in the fireplace making the room seem even more inviting. Jessica had her own seat, snuggled on Fred's lap, her face lying against his neck. Occasionally, she squirmed on his erection, nipped his ear with her teeth, or teasingly licked his neck with the tip of her tongue.

A laughing Carla reached over to swat her daughter's butt. "Would you leave the poor man alone? He's just finished screwing all of us unconscious a couple of hours ago, and now you're stirring things up again. Give the man a break."

"I'll bet your panties are wet, too," Jessica absently responded as she kissed just beneath Fred's left ear again, making the big man shiver.

"You know I'm wet, and will be for a while, just as the rest of us are. After all, we're all full of come," her mother tried to indignantly say, but it didn't quite come across the way she meant it to. She barely held back a giggle as she realized she was being turned on, too.

Despite Jessica's ministrations and the banter, Fred seemed somewhat preoccupied.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Brenda asked her mate. She was in the new body since the RV trip, but her mind knew her longtime husband better than the others did.

"Nothing, it's just that ... Oh, hell, Angel (Their daughter) hasn't called in a couple of weeks. A little while ago, I tried to call her just after we all finished making love. I got an 'out of service' notification. Remember, all she has is that cell, since she cancelled her landline months ago." After a hesitation, "I don't know. I'm just a bit worried. You talked to her the last time; did she say anything that might..."

Jessica, realizing that now wasn't the time, stopped kissing Fred's neck and lay against him, listening to the conversation.

Brenda let out an exasperated sigh. "She should have left that asshole years ago." Then to the others, "She defied us to marry him, and we were sure he'd wind up treating her like shit. Now, we suspect he's doing it, and has been doing it for years." Back to her husband, she continued with, "But to answer your question, she seemed like she always does. In other words, she put on a happy voice that I didn't believe for one second. I told you I wired her some money, yet again."

"You know I don't mind. No telling how long it's been since that asshole brought home a paycheck," Fred injected.

"And we both know, with his drinking, it's probably gone by now," Brenda added. "We're reasonably intelligent. How can the daughter of our loins act so stupid, not to mention anything about obstinate? She knows we would give her a place to live in a heartbeat, yet she continues to stay with her sorry-ass husband."

"I told that son-of-a-bitch I would kill him if he ever hit her. He better remember that," Fred snarled, his erection disappearing from under Jessica's butt.

"You'll have to stand in line if I get there first," Brenda quietly said, "but I will want to cut his balls off before I kill him."

The vehemence in her voice convinced everyone in the room that she was dead serious.

Near Idaho Springs, Colorado

At Matt and Courtney Grigsby's new home, tucked into the side of a small mountain a few miles from Denver, the couple went out their back door, Courtney with a pie carrier in each hand and Matt carrying two small travel bags.

A few minutes later, Courtney stumbled on a tree root as she followed the meager glow of Matt's penlight along his almost-invisible running trail through the woods. "You sure you know where this clearing is?" she worried.

"Certain. We went by it when you went jogging with me, remember?"

Courtney, not having the foggiest idea where he meant, since she always seemed to be lost when they jogged, agreed anyway. "Yeah, I guess." Then, irritated when she stumbled again, "I know you have brighter flashlights..."

"If they're coming in blacked out with no lights, we don't need to call attention to them by advertising our presence out here."

Feeling stupid, not to mention being nervous, she let out a quiet grunt, then concentrated on following him without stumbling and risking dropping her pies.

A couple of minutes later, they stopped and he extinguished the tiny light. "What time is it?" she whispered, wondering why she did so.

"Five minutes yet," he quietly returned.

About the time she had decided to try to find a rock to sit on, she heard something, felt a wash of air and saw an indistinct form settling into the clearing.

"Shit," she sighed out, almost inaudibly. "How can they do that?"

A moment later, both saw a vague form approaching in the darkness, "Evening, Sir – Ma'am," a polite female voice said. "I'm trooper Foster. May I take your things Ma'am?"

"No thank you. I have them."

"I'm..." Grigsby started.

"We identified you before we set down, Sir," the trooper said.

All Courtney could see in the near-total darkness was a dark blob that seemed to be wearing a helmet.

Well, at least she didn't walk up entirely invisible like they did in Atlanta,  Grigsby thought.

"This way. Oh, and watch your step. About ten feet in front of you is a small depression that could cause a sprained ankle. I'm using night vision, so just follow closely behind me, and Sir, we appreciate your discretion with your light."

"Well, if you were coming in here with a quiet helicopter, no use my lighting up the world and advertising your presence," Grigsby softly answered, knowing that voices would carry in the silence of the woods.

Courtney didn't comment, concentrating on keeping her footing on the uneven ground in the darkness. A few seconds later when they arrived at the copter, another person reached to help her inside.

"I'll take your carriers, Ma'am," the voice said. Then, "Ummmm, they surely do smell good."

"Pecan pies, still warm from the oven," Courtney responded.

"Don't worry, I'll secure them so they won't be harmed."

"Thank you," Courtney managed as the trooper helped with her seat belts. "Can't we have a light in here?"

"In a few moments, Ma'am. Let's wait until we're in the air, just to be sure," a male voice responded.

The helicopter lifted and quietly ascended into the heavens. Shortly, a subdued light came on allowing Matt and Courtney to see two uniformed and helmeted people sitting across from them.

"As, I said, I'm trooper Foster, and this is Sergeant Higgins," the female trooper said as both faceplates retracted, showing a young woman and a somewhat older male.

"Could you tell me..." Grigsby started.

"Sorry, Sir. All the information I have is the rendezvous location and your identities. We're headed to a much higher mountain not far from Winter Park, where Colonel Matthews lives. It will be a short ride. I'm told the Colonel will meet you at the helipad."

"This helicopter..." Grigsby started, his curiosity killing him.

"Sorry, Sir. At this point, I'm unable to discuss anything with you. I apologize. I will say that the Colonel and his family are very nice people. I'm sure they will fill you in when we get there."

"Sorry, Sergeant. I shouldn't have asked."

"No problem, Sir."

Courtney reached over to take her husband's hand.

Eventually, the Sergeant did something and they saw starlight out the windows. Then, a few minutes later as the helicopter turned, they could see a large building in the distance, its lights and the surrounding security lighting ablaze in the whiteness of deep snow. On the way, Matt had been forced to swallow several times to clear his ears, so he knew they were much higher up than their home in Idaho Springs.

"I assume that's our destination?" he said, motioning out the window.

"Yes, Sir. That's the Colonel's home. They call it the Retreat," Sergeant Higgins responded.

"It's his home? That's not a hotel?" Grigsby asked before he could stop himself.

"Well, in a way, Sir. But it's the Colonel's residence."

As the helicopter dropped toward a lighted landing pad, Matt got a better look at the building and thought, Shit! No Colonel makes that kind of salary. The building is huge.

"And you're part of his Security?" Grigsby pushed.

"A small part of it, Sir."

Courtney squeezed her husband's hand when Higgins said that, but she didn't comment.

When the helicopter landed, Higgins spoke up again. "Please remain seated until the rotors stop. They are high enough to easily clear your head, but the ice crystals they kick up can sting."

When the rotors had stopped, the Sergeant opened the door and assisted Courtney down the two steps. Trooper Foster brought the pie carriers, but Grigsby insisted on bringing their bags.

Before Grigsby could comment on the cold, an Escalade pulled up and three people got out, quickly approaching.

"Colonel Matthews," Matt said as he put down one of the bags he was holding and put out his right hand.

"SAC Grigsby," Jeff responded as they shook. "Good to see you again. This is my wife, Diana," Jeff said, motioning to the stunning woman beside him, "and this is my wife, Kayla, who you met in Atlanta," he finished as he motioned to the beautiful woman on the other side of him.

Grigsby had recognized Kayla, but felt a slight jolt of adrenalin as he realized that he had just been introduced to two wives. He hoped his reaction didn't show on his face. "This is my better half, Courtney," he replied, striving to keep his voice even.

As soon as the introductions were over, Diana bent to stare into the clear carriers. "Oh, my goodness. Are those pecan pies in there?"

"Yes. Southern recipe, and pecans from Georgia," Courtney responded when she heard the melodious tones of Diana's voice, and the slightly southern accent she (Courtney) immediately recognized that spoke of home.

"We're from Georgia," Diana laughed as she reached for Courtney's arm. "Come on. We're going to get along just fine."

The women were in the Escalade before the men had the luggage and pies secured in the back. A moment later, Jeff and Matt Grigsby got in the front, chatting and chuckling over something.

Courtney had been dreading their arrival, but Diana had bombarded her with questions about Atlanta, making the agent's wife forget her tension until they pulled into the inside garage and saw all the women standing there waiting to be introduced.

Diana reached to take Courtney's hand as soon as they were out of the Escalade. "Please hold your judgment of us for a little while, but all of us," she said, motioning, "are married to our Prime."

Courtney didn't trust herself to speak as the shock of realization hit her. He isn't married to just two wives; he has many of them. Despite the shock, she just nodded numbly while she wondered how a man could be married to so many women, and why this woman would refer to her husband as a Prime. If Matt knew this Colonel was married to all these women and didn't tell me, he's in big trouble. I would never have consented to this trip, had I known.

Almost as if Diana were reading her mind, the beautiful woman went quickly on, "Your husband didn't know any of this. He only met Kayla in Atlanta. But you're both here because your husband is an Alpha. Just please trust me for a little while. Everything will be explained to you during your stay with us."

Courtney knew she should be screaming at the top of her lungs, but somehow, Diana's calm seemed to help quiet the new SAC's wife – at least to some extent. "I hope so," Courtney managed in an almost normal voice, amazing herself.

She realized that overhead heaters had come on to combat the cold air let in when the garage door was open, but the minor distraction did little to take her mind off all the wives. I feel positively frumpy,  Courtney thought as she seemed to be surrounded by the most exotic and beautiful fashion models she had ever seen. Matt, what have you gotten us into?

Diana began the introductions. Courtney had always prided herself on her memory, and she was determined to remember every name and face, but that thought was almost jarred aside as the exotic woman made the first introductions. "This is my mom, Susan, and this is my daughter, Arlene."

Oh, my. What is she trying to do? She's ... maybe, twenty, but the woman she just introduced as her mother is thirty at the outside, and the girl she introduced as her daughter, is sixteen or seventeen, I guess. They're so much alike, it's uncanny, but no way can there be three generations represented by them. They have to be sisters. Why is she lying to me?

Seeing the look on Courtney's face, Diana let out a soft chuckle, as did Susan at the same time that Arlene giggled. "Don't let our apparent ages upset you. I didn't fib about our relationship. We'll explain everything shortly."

If they're rich, as they certainly must be considering that this building is their home and they send helicopters for their guests, I suppose they can afford the best of plastic surgeons, but still... 

Courtney forced herself to listen intently to the rest of the introductions, determined to remember the names, but her mind tended to stray as she thought of the implications of so many wives. I think there are fourteen of them. That means that this man probably spends a night with each woman ever two weeks. Obviously, they're all young and in their sexual prime. I'll bet there are some sexually frustrated women here. The coat covers a lot of Matthews' body, so I can't really tell much about his build, but he seems to be a great looking guy. He has an attractive face and he's tall ... but there's something else about him – a presence, I suppose, a very imposing presence. But even so, fourteen women for one man is just plain sick.

When the introductions were over, Jeff used his remote to open the hatch on the Escalade. Two of the girls grabbed up the cases while two of the women brought the pie carriers.

"Oh, wow," Laura, at the back of the Escalade, said, then called out to Diana. "The pies are pecan and they smell heavenly."

"Yeah, I know," Diana replied, then turned to Courtney. "You didn't have to bring anything, but we're so glad you did. Your pies will go quickly. Everyone here loves pecan."

The thought crossed Courtney's mind that Diana might be exaggerating to make her feel good, no matter how sincere the woman sounded, but it worked, nonetheless.

After walking up the steps and entering the building proper, they were met by a child about six or seven with a kitten on her shoulder.

"Hello, my name is Selina," the child said. "I apologize for my late arrival. I was detained due to a telephone conversation with my parents."

The child put out her hand to shake exactly as and adult would. "And may I present, Billy," she said, formally introducing her kitten.

Courtney and her husband exchanged a quick glance during the introduction and handshake, then each petted the kitten, both realizing that the child's demeanor was far beyond her chronological age.

Shortly, they continued down the hall, Selina leading the way. When they turned a corner, they met two Chihuahua puppies charging toward them, both barking happily. The kitten on Selina's shoulder, stood to arch its back, hissing. As both Courtney and Matt focused on the cat, there was a "Pop," and it suddenly disappeared from the child's shoulder to reappear just behind the dogs. The kitten reached out, and with extended claws, swatted one of the puppies on the butt.

There was a yelp from the little dog as the two slewed around and charged the kitten. At first, Billy accelerated away, but the dogs soon matched his short burst of speed, both now barking frenziedly. The puppies separated to close in on either side of the fleeing feline, but there was another "Pop," and the kitten was suddenly sitting down the hall a hundred feet away, casually licking his claws.

"Billy!" Selina yelled out as she ran after her kitten, "That is not acceptable behavior."

"Oh, crap," Jeff quietly said, but Matt heard him.

"That kitten..." the agent started as he and Courtney stood staring.

"Yeah, he did," Jeff resignedly said. "We were going to wait until after supper to introduce you to the menagerie, but it looks like they've introduced themselves."

"But it..."

"Yeah, I know. It teleported," Jeff finished for him.

Selina had caught up with her kitten and was bent down scolding him. "Selina," Jeff called out, "show them."

Selina stood back up and turned toward Jeff. "You are certain in regard to this, my Prime?"

"Yeah. Do it."

There was a somewhat louder "Pop" from down the hall and Selina was suddenly standing in front of the couple. A second later, there was a quieter "Pop," and Billy again appeared on her shoulder.

"Oh ... crap," Matt got out, managing at the last instant to change what he was going to say, Courtney's grip now crushing his hand as her breath hissed in.

"Jeff, that wasn't nice," Diana said, but there was a grin on her face. Then to the visitors as she opened the door of a nearby suite as if nothing had happened, "This will be your suite while you're here," she finished, ushering them inside.

"But," Grigsby tried again.

"Give us time, please," Jeff said, reaching out to touch the new SAC on his shoulder. "You have my word that nothing sinister is going on. You'll understand everything, shortly."

Matt clamped his mouth shut. This is the man who saved my life. Give him the benefit of the doubt. "Okay," he quietly said as he forced down a dozen questions.

Nicki and Whitney went on into the bedroom with the bags as Grigsby practically dragged his stunned wife through the outer door of the suite.

Diana and Jeff came in with the two, and the Queen reached to touch Courtney's hand as they stood in the sitting room of the suite. "Your husband is an Alpha. You don't know what that means right now, but we'll explain everything to you, shortly. Please forgive us for the little scene. The kitten and puppies frequently do things like that, but you will soon know about everything."

The Queen stepped back a pace. "We'll give you a few minutes to put your things away and check out your suite. Someone will come for you to guide you to the dining room. The size of this building can be daunting at first, but it's laid out logically, so you'll catch on quickly." Hesitating for a second, she went on. "We'll introduce all the others to you at supper."

"Sorry," Jeff said as he put a hand on Matt's shoulder for a moment, then stepped over to hold the door open as his women left the suite.

When the door closed behind the Colonel, and the two visitors were alone, Courtney looked at her husband. "That ... that child teleported. That's what he called it, right? And the kitten did, too. They T E L E P O R T E D!" she almost screamed, stretching the word out. "Did you know about this? You told me about that ramp the Colonel and his people walked up and disappeared, and you said that the Colonel and his ... woman were invisible when they first came into the nurses' kitchen. But hearing about something like that and seeing a child and a kitten do ... that... Shit,  Matt! What have you gotten us into?"

Suddenly it dawned on her, and she grabbed both her husband's arms, almost shaking him. "Are they aliens? I mean, come on, they picked us up in a helicopter that we couldn't even hear. Oh, I know they can put a muffler, sound baffle, or something on the motor, but how do they stop the sound of the blades? You can always hear a helicopter coming by the whap, whap sound of the blades. Sometimes you can hear that before you even hear the engine. But there was practically no sound with this one at all.

"Then they bring us to this ... this ... whatever it is that must have cost millions of dollars, and they say it's just their home. Then he – the Colonel I mean – introduces fourteen of the most beautiful women in the world as his wives. Then we see – with our own eyes – a little girl and a kitten who teleport as if it's an everyday occurrence. I'm telling you they are alien. How did we get into this? They'll never let us leave after seeing them teleport," she finished, her imagination pushing her.

Grigsby pulled her to the couch and sat her down on it, squatting in front of her to take her hands. "Look, don't go ballistic on me, Baby, and please try to remember something. This man and his team saved my life. I would have been dead in another couple of minutes if not for their intervention. That's an absolute fact. That bunch that attacked us had enough heavy weaponry with them to totally annihilate us."

"I don't know..."

But Matt broke in before she could go on. "Again, Baby, remember. I'm here with you because of what this man and his people did. It isn't logical for them to invite us up here if they have bad intentions toward us."

"But..."

"The Colonel didn't try to cover up the kitten's teleporting. He could have ignored it and left us to wonder. Sooner or later, we would have convinced ourselves that we hadn't seen it."

"But the little girl – Selina – did it, too. I'm telling you they're aliens. And Matt, no man has fourteen wives, well, other than some religious nut or something. And if those women and girls were faking being happy, they're doing a darn good job of it. I don't like us – your – being around them. Don't you even think about..."

"Court," Matt admonished. He didn't like the way this conversation was going. He sat beside her, grabbed her and kissed her – hard. When he finally pulled back, he looked into her eyes. "You're so beautiful. I've told you that many times."

"You're trying to distract me."

"You bet. Did I succeed?"

She giggled and punched him on the arm. "You made me horny doing that, and you know it. But I still say they're aliens."

"Baby, they're not aliens."

"Yeah, and exactly how many people do you know who can teleport, and how many kittens, hmmm?"

"All right. I see your point..."

"And those women, no matter how nice they have been to us, are too beautiful to be real. Come on, Matt. They're so sexy they even appeal to me, and I don't have a gay bone in my body. How could one man ever find that many beautiful women, let alone, marry all of them?"

Matt stood, then reached a hand to help his wife to her feet. "Baby, I don't know the answers to your questions, but the Matthews have promised to explain, so let's just take things at face value for a while. Let's go hang up our things so they don't get wrinkled, and ... put off our worries until we have something concrete to worry about. Okay?"



-------

Chapter 214

Selina was waiting for Jeff when he and Diana came out of the Grigsby's suite. "My Prime, I request a few moments of your time."

"Sure, Selina."

Diana reached to kiss her husband's cheek. "I'm going to check on supper. In a few minutes, I'll send someone to escort our guests to the dining room."

"Okay, Babe." Then turning to Selina, as Diana walked away, "If you're worried about what happened, it wasn't your fault."

But Selina was shaking her head. "I was cognizant of Sugar and Spike's presence in the hallway. The interaction between the puppies and Billy should have been facilely evident to me, since the occurrence was eminently logical based on previous experience."

"And ... my Little Princess, do you think he would have stayed there? Have you, somehow, found a way to keep a teleporting kitten confined, hmmm?"

Jeff could see the sparkle of tears beginning in Selina's eyes. Taking her hand, they walked a few steps to a chair in one of the alcoves. Sitting, he pulled the six-year-old onto his lap. "This certainly didn't go down the way I had planned, but hey, I didn't have to try to convince them that you and your kitten were capable of teleporting, now did I?" he said with laughter in his voice.

"That is irrelevant. Mrs. Grigsby was quite distressed. Her countenance reflected extreme perturbation," Selina insisted. "She would not have experienced such emotions should you have had the opportunity to initiate the discourse on teleportation prior to confrontation with the phenomenon."

The Prime began to move his leg, bouncing Selina. "I am not a child," she said, grabbing his shoulder to hang on, trying for indignantion, but failing as a giggle fought to get out. "My mood can not be enhanced by merely bouncing upon my Prime's knee."

"Then how about this," Jeff said as he walked two fingers up her leg toward her side.

"I am not ticklish," she tried to respond in a stern voice, but Jeff pretended to launch his two walking fingers as he added buzzing like a bee. He circled his hand round and round, coming ever closer to her side, then with an abrupt movement, darted in. The tickling fingers produced the screeches of a six-year-old, despite the inward protests of the genius part of her. The little girl part won out as she tussled with the man she had learned to love. Why couldn't my father have acted in this manner? she thought as Jeff paused to let her get her breath, both of them laughing.

-------

The introductions were over and everyone was seated. Courtney had given up trying to remember all of their names. The long table was crowded with platters of food, the main focus on fried chicken, dumplings, mashed potatoes, gravy, and Fordhook lima beans. The men piled their plates high with food – more than Courtney had ever seen anyone eat at one sitting. As she subtly glanced around her, she realized that the women also had plates full of food – not as much as the men, but a lot for women who certainly seemed to care for their figures.

If they eat like this all the time, how in the world do they keep from being enormous? she thought. Now, I've been introduced to even more women who are beautiful. This can not be real. No way should all these women be so extraordinarily beautiful. I've always thought I was pretty, but not anymore – not after being around these people. I've seen my husband looking at them. What man could resist? I left him because I couldn't stand worrying about his being killed. Finally, we're back together and doing fine; now this. The more I see these people, the more I think they really are aliens. The women are too beautiful, and the men are too ... sexy.

Courtney realized that a grinning young woman sitting beside her – Arlene – was holding a platter of chicken. "Chill out," the teenage wife said with a quiet chuckle. "Your husband is an Alpha. Mom and Dad will talk with you after supper. I guarantee you'll be amazed and ... pleased before the night is over."

"I'm already amazed," Courtney replied as she accepted the platter and took a piece of chicken. "I'm just a bit..."

" ... overwhelmed," Arlene supplied as she offered a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Courtney thanked her and passed the platter of chicken to her husband who was sitting on the other side of her, then accepted the bowl of potatoes from Arlene.

"You need to eat more than that one breast," the young Queen chided as she pointed to the three breasts on her own plate.

"If I did that, I'd be as big as the side of a house," Courtney laughed.

"Not after tonight," Arlene mysteriously replied as she accepted the gravy from Ann.

Courtney wound up with more on her plate than she had planned, but when she bit into the chicken, her appetite reared its head. As she ate, she listened to the gentle chiding, jokes and laughter. Without quite realizing how it happened, she was soon participating in the conversations, despite her worries. She was again proud of her husband as he interacted with the men, his intelligence subtly obvious.

But her thoughts continued to return to what had happened in the hallway. The little girl and the kitten teleported,  she kept telling herself. These women are too beautiful to be real, and the men have an allure that's almost scary. It's not just sexual – it's ... something else. They're ... sure of themselves, certain of their manhood, all seemingly without being the slightest bit arrogant. They project ... something I can't quite put my finger on, and they all have multiple wives. But the wives seem to be happy. More than just happy, but they're sure of themselves, too, just like the men. How can a woman be sure of herself when her husband has other wives?

Her plate was empty before she realized it, and the Matthews had begun passing several delicious-looking desserts around the table. Arlene talked her into a large piece of kiwi pie, something she and Matt loved. One bite told her the pie was homemade. Nothing from a store tasted like this.

Courtney turned to Arlene. "You must have some great cooks working for you. All of the food is delicious."

"You're looking at the cooks," the teenager responded with a muted giggle. "We don't have anyone working for us. We did get a crew in to help clean after we had a hundred people or so here for Margaret's wedding, but other than that, we do everything for ourselves."

Courtney, thinking of the richness of the furnishings in the dining room and the suite she and her husband were assigned to, not to mention the elegance of the giant living room she had briefly glimpsed, found it difficult to believe these people didn't have a number of servants hired to do the cooking and menial work.

Arlene saw the look on Courtney's face and reached to gently squeeze her hand. "We're just a family – a big one, true – but a family, nonetheless. Mom and Dad will start to tell you our history as the rest of us clean up. Just relax, open your mind and let us tell and show you some marvelous things over the next couple of days. I promise you that you will be pleased." Arlene stood to begin gathering up dirty dishes.

"Wait," Courtney said, "I'll..."

But Diana was beside her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "We'll let you help tomorrow, if you wish. For now, there are plenty of women to get the job done very quickly. You're our guests. Let's adjourn to the living room where we can have an after-supper coffee, relax and talk."

Jeff, Diana, Courtney and Matt entered the living room a couple of minutes later. Jeff immediately went to the biggest fireplace Courtney had ever seen and moved the screen out of the way, his intention of building a fire obvious.

"May I help?" Matt asked, walking over.

"Sure. Help me with the wood," Jeff responded.

Shortly, the four were seated, Matt and Courtney on a couch facing Jeff and Diana on a love seat as the fire began to add its glow and warmth to the big room.

One of the girls – Courtney thought her name was Jennie – pushed in a serving cart with coffee and soft drinks, smiled, and quickly left.

"Do you folks ski?" Jeff asked as Diana served them all coffee.

Courtney accepted sweetener and cream as Diana smiled and nodded to Matt and Jeff, then in a conspiratorial tone, quietly said, "I don't see how they stand their coffee black."

Courtney chuckled and whispered back, "No way."

"We've been skiing once," Matt answered, "but I'm afraid we're very little past the kiddie slopes."

Jeff took a sip of his coffee. "Doesn't matter. Our slopes are, ultra easy, easy, and impossible. I've darn near killed myself on the impossible slope..."

" ... and none of the rest of us will touch it," Diana inserted, "well, other than Arlene, that is."

"We also have snowboards, and snowmobiles, as long as you stay away from the driveway with the former," Jeff finished with a chuckle.

"Driveway?" Matt said, knowing there must be a story behind the comment.

"We'll tell you about it when Arlene is around, but it's a story worth hearing. Heck, better than that, we have a video that will take your breath away."

"We have a driveway from Hell," the Queen supplied. "It works its way up the face of an almost vertical cliff."

Courtney forced back a shiver. "I don't like heights."

"You have a lot of sympathy around here," Diana laughed. "Most of us still dread the driveway."

"The teleporting?" Courtney asked, refusing to be sidetracked any longer.

Jeff cleared his throat as he stood, took a couple of steps and turned his back to the fire, his hands behind him as he soaked up the heat. "There is a lot to be told, and Courtney, I'm a bit hesitant to begin the way I usually do with a new person. Please don't be insulted," he quickly went on, "but we could see that you were upset when Billy did his thing, not to mention when Selina did, too. I guess you realize that we could have pretended that nothing happened when the kitten teleported, but I refuse to lie to a brother Alpha, and pretending that Billy didn't teleport would be lying."

"But how..." Courtney blurted.

"To be truthful, I don't really know how they do it. Oh, I've discussed it with Selina several times, and she tried to explain, but we both wound up frustrated, and I learned nothing. Something you need to understand about Selina: she's a genius. I don't mean just smart; I mean a true genius with an IQ that's off the charts, and ... Helen, our teacher, is just as smart. Alphas tend to pick smart women for their wives, and I strongly suspect that Matt has done the same thing."

Courtney blushed as Matt inserted. "If you're implying that I'm an Alpha, well, I don't know about that – whatever an Alpha is – but I will certainly agree that my wife is very intelligent. Of course, she does think you're aliens," he added, to the utter consternation of his wife.

"Matt!" Courtney yipped out, her face turning crimson.

Jeff looked at her and wiggled his ears. Matt was looking at Courtney at the moment, and didn't see it, but Diana did.

"Jeff Matthews!" she said, but her laughter tended to cancel out her scolding of her husband.

"What?" Matt said, looking around, knowing that something happened.

"My husband tends to stir up things," Diana grunted out. "He wiggled his ears." Then to Courtney, "You'll have to overlook him. He's just a man. Sometimes I think he's still a child."

"So, do all aliens wiggle their ears?" Matt asked with a grin.

"All right. All right, so maybe they aren't aliens," Courtney said to her husband.

"Sometimes, I wonder," Diana interjected.

Jeff pulled a chair closer to Matt and Courtney and sat down. "I have something to show you, and Courtney ... please, bear with me for now, and please forgive me for the ear wiggling thing. I couldn't resist. I promise, though, if you'll hang in there, you'll wake up in the morning as healthy as the rest of us here, and ... there will still be only one alien in the building," he just had to say.

"What..." Courtney started as she sat up strait, realizing by his tone that Jeff was serious this time.

"Jeff, you're going to scare her to death," Diana said, reaching out a hand to take one of Courtney's. "We do have a small ali..." and the block shut her down.

But Jeff picked up with, "She's about the size of a paperback novel, and she's the sweetest thing you could ever imagine, and very intelligent."

Since the Prime had opened the subject, Diana had hopes the blocks would let her continue, but she didn't want to push it. Turning to Jeff, "Honey, perhaps, it would be better if you stepped into the hall to retrieve, uh, your surprise."

"Good idea," the Prime responded, realizing that Courtney was now truly scared about them being aliens, and seeing the Healer flow out of his collar would be too much for her.

In the hallway a moment later, Little One flowed from his back and reformed. One of our new guests is apparently afraid that we are all aliens, and quite upset. I'm trying to lessen the shock when she sees you.

{{{ I understand, my Prime. I will endeavor to present myself accordingly. }}}

Jeff walked back in with Little One in his hand, returning to his seat. All Courtney could see was a translucent object the size of a book. Even to her, there seemed to be no threat. She began to think that Jeff and Diana were teasing her about an Alien.

"That's it?" Courtney asked, leaning forward in her seat to better see the object.

"Yep," Jeff casually responded. "She's an alien AI, uh ... artificial intelligence. But she is alive and possesses a very alert and astute mind. Plus, she has feelings just like anyone else."

"Could I..." Matt said as he reached out.

"Sure," Jeff responded as he handed Little One to the new Alpha. "Don't drop her when you realize she is truly alive," the Prime cautioned.

As soon as Matt took the Healer in his hands, he sat back. "Oh, sh..." he started before he cut himself off. "She really is alive. I can feel her, and hear a sort of buzzing in my mind."

"Matt, you're scaring me," Courtney cautioned.

"Give me your hand," he said. When she very reluctantly did, he gently pulled it to Little One.

As soon as her hand touched the Healer, Courtney started, and jerked her hand back. "No, come on, Court. Touch her," Matt admonished. "She's warm and you can feel that she's real."

A couple of minutes later, Jeff and Diana talked Courtney into taking Little One onto her lap. After a moment, Courtney began to absently stroke the Healer. "Courtney, she's a Healer," Jeff quietly said. "That means that she can heal anything wrong with you from a stubbed toe to cancer or AIDS, and anything between. She saved our daughter's life when she was shot, and she saved mine when I was mauled by a grizzly."

"How does she do that?" Courtney asked, her mind screaming that this thing in her lap was alive, but at the same time, it seemed so innocent, and she somehow didn't want to give it back. Still, she was having a hard time believing that it could heal anyone. As she dragged her eyes from the Healer to look at Jeff, "Where did she come from? How did you get it, uh ... her?"

"There's a lot we need to tell you," the Prime responded, "and I've gone beyond what we should without the blocks."

"Blocks?" Matt responded.

"All of us here have had mental..." Diana began, but abruptly stopped again, frustration showing in her countenance.

"I'm the only one not affected by the blocks," Jeff took up, "and you'll understand the why of that later. This is a special security precaution, and Matt needs to know all of this because he is now the SAC for this area. We've already been penetrated once, and Arlene was almost killed. I feel Courtney should know too because Matt is an Alpha. I can't explain further for the moment. If the two of you were blocked, Diana wouldn't have any problem discussing things with you, but the blocks prevent discussing many things. And before you ask, those blocks don't interfere in any way with our bodies, minds or the way we live our lives, except ... we can't talk about our secrets to outsiders." Before Courtney could answer, the Prime went quickly on. "We are totally free to speak openly about any of those secrets with anyone who has accepted the blocks, but talking to anyone not blocked produces an increasing nausea. The nausea will continue to increase if you try to talk about those secrets. When you stop, the nausea stops. I'll be glad to bring in any of my wives, or even Selina, to talk to you about the blocks. I swear to you that no harm will come to you, other than what I've described. But before we go further with our story, you'll have to consent to the blocks."

"How do we do this?" a skeptical Matt asked.

"With this," Jeff said as he walked over to a drawer and withdrew the equipment. "I am authorized to use it."

"Does it..." Courtney began.

"No," Jeff responded, "you won't feel a thing during or after. If you're like everyone else, you'll be positive that the blocks don't even work. Rest assured, though," he said with a sick sounding chuckle, "they do."

Matt glanced at his terrified wife. "Colonel..."

"Jeff," the Prime corrected. "We don't stand on formality around here. We're all family, and that includes the two of you."

"Uh, Jeff, I'm not sure about this, and my wife surely isn't..."

"With your oath that neither of you will mention the Healer to anyone – ever, we'll put you on the copter and send you back home. We'll never bother you again," Jeff said with finality.

There was silence while Matt obviously sat thinking, then, "And you could just as easily have turned down your mission to Georgia, Colonel. You risked your life, and the lives of your team for us."

"I could not have lived with myself, and you know it, Alpha."

Matt could swear he felt it when Jeff addressed him as "Alpha."

Diana came to her feet, smiling at Courtney. "I have an idea. Don't go away."

Jeff, Courtney and Matt sat chatting, the Healer still on Courtney's lap.

"It, uh, she is warm, and I assume, alive, but I can't imagine it doing anything, and certainly not possessing any healing abilities."

"Courtney," Jeff said, "she's very intelligent. Since I mentioned to her that I thought you might be afraid of her, she's obviously trying to remain as placid as possible to keep from frightening you more. She can move and even change her shape, but she knows that would cause your fear to increase. She is unable to communicate with anyone, other than me, but chances are she can feel your emotions, at least to some degree."

"'Feel' my emotions?"

"She's a telepath."

At Courtney's skeptical expression, the Prime went on, "As I said, the only person she can communicate with to any degree is me, and since her mind is so different, even then, our communication is ... cumbersome, but ... we are getting better at it," he finished with a disarming (he hoped) grin.

"Okay," Diana said as she walked in with Bobby, Sandra and Art trailing behind her, "Have a seat, guys." After the Queen had returned to her seat next to Jeff and the three had pulled their chairs near, Diana smiled at Matt. "Suppose you reintroduce these three, in case Courtney has forgotten their names, and remind us who they are."

"I know their names," Courtney spoke up. "You're Sandra. You're Bobby, and this man is your, uh ... husband, Art Hanes," she said with the slightest hesitation.

"Art is the agent I told you about," Matt reminded his wife. "The one the mercenaries were trying to kill."

"The two of you are his nurses, or were when he was..." Then it dawned on her. No way could he have gotten over his wounds so quickly. Then staring at Art, "I just remembered that you were severely injured a few days ago. Yet, you seem just fine now."

"Little One there in your lap," Jeff said as Sandra and Bobby grinned, "began the healing process, and she was quite capable of completing it, but the ... procedure, if you will, was completed on the Ship. Right Art?"

The agent nodded, knowing better than to try to mention Little One or the Ship to someone not blocked.

"And we really are his nurses," Bobby assured Courtney, "and now we're his wives," she finished with a smile as she cast a loving glance at her new husband.

Courtney looked down at Little One. Can this small thing actually heal people?

Jeff, a little unsure of how to proceed, cleared is throat. "Uh, when this all started, I would sneak into a person's bedroom in the middle of the night, sit in a corner and doze while Little One healed and began the enhancement process, but once I was able to have the blocking equipment here, I've just talked my Alphas and their mates into letting me block them, then told them everything. So, I guess we're at that point now."

"So you're asking us to trust you," Matt said, more statement than question.

"That's about it, I suppose. When I put the helmet on you, you'll sleep for ten minutes or so, then wake up with the block in place. Unless you try to tell someone who isn't blocked, you'll never realize the block is even there." The Prime stared at Matt. "I give you my word; you won't be harmed."

"Maaatt," Courtney quietly said, dragging his name out, doubt showing in her voice.

"Yeah..." Matt said, then stronger, "Yeah, I'll do it."

"Baby?"

He turned to more fully face his wife. "Two more minutes and I would have been dead – an absolute fact, Honey. I can't not do what this man wants." Then to Jeff, "What do I do?"

Jeff let out a sigh. "Convince your wife, first. I can't just do one of you and leave the other unblocked. There's just too much risk that our secrets would get out."

Matt could see the terror in Courtney's face. He stood and assisted his wife to her feet, Courtney still holding onto Little One. "If it's all right with you, Court and I need to go for a walk. If we don't get lost, we'll be back in a bit."

"Anywhere you wish. If you decide to go outside, there are a number of coats near the doors."

-------

"She'll come around," Diana said after the couple had left.

"I wonder if she realizes she still has Little One with her," Jeff asked with a grin.

Diana didn't bother to stifle a chuckle. "Little One likes to be petted, and she projects her contentment. It's really easy to get used to her if you don't dwell on her being an alien."

"I just hope Courtney doesn't drop Little One when she realizes what she's doing. It won't hurt the Healer, but I suspect she won't like it."

In only a few minutes, the couple walked back in. Courtney sat with Matt still standing, a hand resting on her shoulder as he smiled down at her. Slowly, he sat beside her. She looked at her husband for a long second, then turned to Jeff. "I'll do it, but I want to do it first, and I don't want to wait. Just do it to me – right now, please, before I panic and tell you no."

Jeff didn't wait, either. Coming to his feet with the equipment in his hands, he took the couple of steps to stand behind Courtney as she sat on the couch. "Lean back in your seat so you can nod off for a few minutes." When she slid down a little and leaned back, Jeff slipped the helmet on her head and activated it. With a quiet sigh, she was out, her hands still clasped around Little One in her lap.

"Jeff, I..." Matt started.

"Just sit with her and keep her from falling over. She'll wake in a few minutes and probably think she's pulled one over on us and the blocks didn't work."

"All of us thought that," Diana chimed in, then abruptly stopped again.

"They do work," Jeff finished for her, "and they work even if you start to blurt out something accidentally."

"But how do these ... blocks, as you call them, function?"

"We'll talk about that later when everyone can join in the conversation," the Prime offered. "But basically, the blocks are adapted alien technology."

"But you seem to be able to talk about..."

"I can, but as I said, no one else here can, and we're delving into forbidden territory. Let's just wait until both of you have the blocks, then we can have a full conversation with everyone participating."



-------

Chapter 215


While Courtney was in the sleep state induced by the blocking equipment, Art, Sandra and Bobby left the room. The helmet chimed and Jeff lifted it from Courtney's head. She blinked her eyes open, looked around her, then turned to Jeff, who was again standing behind her. "I'm ready whenever you are," she blurted, tension apparent in her voice.

Diana broke in with, "It's finished, Courtney."

"But ... What's finished? Nothing has happened." Then she remembered what Jeff had said. "Oh," she sighed, blushing when she realized she had acted just as he had said she would.

"You ready, Matt? It might be more comfortable if you stretched out on the couch..." Jeff offered.

"I'll just slide down and lean my head on the back here." Then to his wife, "Hon, keep me from falling over, okay?" he said, sliding down some and leaning slightly into her. "Do it, Colonel."

"Jeff," the Prime absently corrected again as he placed the thin helmet on Matt's head and activated the equipment.

The SAC was instantly in a deep sleep. "Did I do that?" Courtney asked, looking at her husband's slack countenance.

"We all do that, or did," Diana responded.

Courtney let out a sigh. "The more I see, the more I believe that you people really are aliens..."

Diana and Jeff exchanged a worried glance, and the Queen came over and knelt in front of Courtney, reaching to take one of the young woman's hands. How can I convince her? The man she loves and trusts told her that a group of invisible warriors with super weapons came to rescue her husband during that terrible storm. They annihilated a group of mercenaries in a matter of minutes, then marched up a ramp to disappear again, taking the mangled bodies of the mercenaries with them. Then we fly her out here in a helicopter that doesn't make any sound, to see a man who has fourteen wives. Now she sits with an alien in her lap who we tell her can heal, and Art, who she knew was severely injured only a few days ago, is obviously completely healed. Then we tell her she needs to be blocked, put a thin helmet on her head, and a moment later, at least to her senses, we tell her the blocks are in. Now with the same helmet on her husband's head, he's instantly asleep. Shit, she still hasn't been told there's a sentient starship sitting in our back yard. And, oh yeah, it's invisible, too. No friggin' wonder she won't get off the alien kick.

Diana locked eyes with Courtney. Screw it. I would think we're aliens, too. But now I can talk to her. Aloud, "We are not aliens, but Jeff and his team have been to alien worlds. Then her sense of humor kicked in. "And, Baby, as they say, 'you ain't seen nothin' yet.'"

Courtney stared at a grinning Diana, the absurdity of the situation sinking in as an answering grin began to touch her own lips. The Queen quickly moved up to sit next to Courtney, putting an arm around her to hug her, causing Matt to slip toward them alarmingly.

Jeff, still standing behind Matt, put a hand on the agent's shoulder to stop his sideways slide as the women broke into gales of laughter. He knew Courtney probably wasn't nearly as amused as she sounded, and he worried that there might be a tad of hysteria in her laughter, but Diana seemed to have somehow diffused the situation, at least, for now.

-------

After Matt had awakened, Diana freshened their coffee and they all eventually finished their drink as the Prime and his clan Queen began to tell some of their long story. " ... so, much of the technological advances in recent years have been the result of the General's scientists' adaptations of off-world technology. Just about any marked advance in science that you can think of has a direct link to the General – hidden, granted, but there. And ... many of the biggest tech companies around the world are owned – indirectly, of course – by General Whitworth."

"Shit," Matt whispered almost to himself, then louder. "It makes sense. I've read more than one article about how quickly our technology has advanced in the last thirty years. One of the authors said it was flat out impossible for us to do that. Others have come up with weird explanations as to why we suddenly began to understand things we never thought of before. Crap, this makes ... sense. A weird kind of sense, true, but I'm beginning to think it sounds logical. And this block thing..."

"Is the General's way of ensuring that knowledge of the portal and all the accompanying information never gets out to the public. If it did, some crackpot leading a nation would decide that the portal needed to be radioactive dust. Even if that didn't happen, there would be many who would be jealous of the portal and want to take it over. At best, it would be run by an international committee representing governments around the world. Can you imagine the United Nations running a portal to the dimensions?"

"Now that is a scary thought," Matt said with a chuckle. "So the General has kept everything for himself?"

Jeff sighed. "I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong. He lives much as his troops do. Oh, his home is a little better, but certainly nowhere near what you're sitting in right now, and to be fair, his home is probably quite a bit less than what a typical General usually has. He still wears the same uniform and eats the same food as his people. And yeah, he's a dictator, if you will, but then again, that's debatably the most efficient type of government there is, if ... it doesn't go to the head of the ruling person. You'll meet him tomorrow, and I'll let you two make your own decisions about him."

Jeff nodded to the Healer still on Courtney's lap, the young woman having continued to unconsciously stroke the little alien. "Now it's time for her," Jeff said with a nod.

"It ... uh, she really can heal people?" Courtney asked, her voice tentative as she tried to digest what she had heard.

Diana, sitting beside Jeff on a love seat facing the new Alpha and his mate, leaned a little forward to speak more directly with Courtney. "She can do far more than heal anything wrong with a person. She can enhance that person – us – all of us. Your mate – your husband – is an Alpha. Jeff felt him in Georgia and knew. Alphas have hidden abilities. Abilities that we think were once part of the species, at least for certain individuals. These atrophied abilities, well, some of them at least, can be brought back. That's what Little One thinks, anyhow. In addition to that, any of us that Little One enhances will live for a very long time. An enhanced person's body will function far better than we could have once imagined. To say that you will feel better and have a much more efficient brain and body is ... an understatement. Your cells will reproduce – perfectly. There will never be any cancer, or heart problems, or disease – nothing like that. Our bodies and brains won't age, ever. Think about that."

Courtney's face showed doubt. "You're saying we will live forever?"

But Diana was shaking her head. "We're not immortal. Statistically speaking, something will eventually kill us, but we won't die from our bodies giving out; when we die, it will come from some exterior means."

"And all this comes from this small ... alien sitting in my lap?"

"She is one source. There's another that we'll talk about later."

"Leap of faith, again," Diana said with a smile as she nodded her head. "There's a two-person recliner over there. You two can take a nap with Little One. When you awaken, there will no longer be any doubt about her healing abilities. You'll feel better than you could imagine – ever. Or you can wait for bedtime and she'll do it when you sleep."

Courtney sat up straight, sucking in a breath. "That's the reason all the women here are so ... beautiful, and the men..."

Jeff broke in with, "Our women were always beautiful, but yes, a perfect brain and a perfect body mean just that – perfect. There aren't any blemishes or imperfections of any kind. That's not restricted to just an occasional mole removal or a breast lift. The body becomes perfect over a short period of time as the enhancement progresses. And there's something else I need to tell you about. If you concentrate on the age you want to be, your body will achieve that over a period of time. It isn't instantaneous, but it's pretty quick. I can't imagine either of you wanting to be a different age, but if you decide later on that you want to be, it's possible."

Courtney stared at Diana, "That's..."

" ... the reason my mom looks so young, as do I."

"And there are absolutely no side effects to this?" Courtney queried.

"Well..." Diana began.

But Jeff spoke up. "I messed up when I first brought the Healer to our home in Georgia to heal Diana's broken ankle. Little One wasn't familiar with human beings. She enhanced Diana, or at least started the process when she healed the ankle. The Healer didn't have much power then, so it took the enhancement process a long time to really get going. But ... something happened when the process began. Something that I hadn't planned for, and Little One didn't have enough knowledge of our species to anticipate..."

"What my loving husband is trying to do with his stumbling narrative," she said, squeezing his hand and smiling at him, "is to protect my ... image. What Little One did enhanced everything about Arlene and me – including our, uh, sexual desires, I guess you could say. Arlene and I had little resistance, and we didn't realize it..."

"A bully in the neighborhood took advantage of that," Jeff interjected, overriding what Diana was about to say. "He won't do it again," he finished, grimly.

Seeing the look on Jeff's face as he remembered caused a tremor to run down Courtney's spine. She wondered if the bully had suffered much before he died.

"I didn't kill him," the Prime said, guessing what Courtney was thinking. The soft chuckle that Matt gave out almost under his breath only added to Courtney's imagination. She had no doubt that Jeff wished he had killed the bully, and wondered just what Jeff had done to the guy.

The Prime continued with the theme of the conversation. "Little One is more cognizant of our bodies now, but we want the two of you to be aware that your sexual desires will be enhanced, and ... your sexual ... uh, abilities as well."

Courtney's eyes widened. "You're saying that..."

"Yeah," Diana said with a grin. "There are other reasons why an Alpha usually has more than one mate. Did any of the women you've met since you've been here appear to be sexually frustrated? Don't answer that," she laughed. "But I can tell you with certainty that none of them are. And ... if you think you've enjoyed sex before ... Well, you really haven't."

"This isn't going to turn me into a nymphomaniac, is it?" Courtney worried aloud.

"No. No," Diana laughed. "And now that Little One understands us, the only man who will really attract you is your Alpha. Oh, you will certainly notice other Alphas, but your mate's pheromones and his mental attractants will be all you need or want. And before you even think of it, no, we're not like a bunch of zombies following our man around. We're a loving family, and we women have minds of our own."

"But how can you ... I mean, how can you share your husband?" Courtney blurted out. "Didn't you get mad when he brought other women home?"

"Court," Matt admonished.

"Viable question," Diana quickly responded. "But ... actually, I'm the one who instigated Jeff taking our other wives."

"'Our?'" Courtney questioned.

"Yeah, we're all married to each other. They're my sister-wives." At Courtney's look, Diana laughed and quickly went on. "Oh, don't even think that. I'm not gay, or bi. I can't even explain what I am, but rest assured that I'm the one who insisted that Jeff have other women."

"But fourteen?" Courtney blurted before she realized it.

"There are a lot of things that you don't know about Alphas, and Jeff will teach your husband some things that you'll love. Should you decide that you want other women for him, he'll be able to take care of them – and you – with no problem at all. The decision for him to have more wives is one of the things that will make a change in your body. One of those changes will help to convince your sister-wives that you're a Queen."

"A Queen?" Courtney got out, knowing by the sound of Diana's voice that she was serious. "You mean something like a hive queen that bees have?"

A startled look passed over Diana's face before she burst out laughing. "I ... I don't think so, but your sister-wives will recognize you as their Queen, and there will be other obvious signs, as well. Signs that both you and your husband will like very much, I suspect."

"Signs?"

"Ummm. Why don't we wait for that part of the discussion until after Little One enhances the two of you? Jeff will have some things he can talk to Matt about, and I'll talk to you about some changes in your body, and other changes you will have, should you become a Queen. But I won't lie to you; you might not be Matt's Queen. It has a lot to do with your attitude on certain things, and more ... The decision has to be yours. You don't have to share your mate. That's up to the two of you, but as you have seen, the Alphas here have more than one wife, and I've yet to see an Alpha's wife who isn't pleased with her position, whether she's a Queen or not."

The Prime and his Queen stood, and Diana spoke again. "We're going for a walk to give you two time to decide. If we're not back when your decision is made, just ask anyone here to summon us. If the person is one of my sister-wives, she'll know where Jeff is. If it's someone else, they'll have the AI find us."

"You mean her?" Courtney responded, indicating Little One.

"Unh uh," Diana said. "Another AI. A whole lot less intelligent than the one in your lap, but it will be able to find us. We'll tell you more about it later."

As soon as the couple was out of earshot, Courtney turned to her husband, but before she could say anything, he spoke up, "Court, I don't know any more about this multiple wives thing than you do. You know damn well I've never cheated on you and never will, so don't go getting your panties in a bunch. I don't have the least damn idea what an Alpha is, other than what we've just heard, and to top that off, I surely don't think I'm one. I've never thought that I was special anything."

Courtney let out a sigh. "Your bosses obviously do," she pointed out. "Where's another SAC your age?"

"Court, I've worked hard for that; I've been damn lucky, and you know it. A lot of things just went right for me. One screw up and someone else would have gotten the job."

"Exactly," she said, fairly pouncing on his comment. "I've always thought you were special. I knew it the first time I met you."

"That's ... uh, just chemistry, Baby. I felt the same way about you – still do. And besides, now it seems like you're arguing on their side."

Courtney didn't say anything, but just sat staring at the carpet. After a moment, then, and in a very quiet voice, "Do you think our sex could really be any better?" she asked. "I can't imagine it could be, and if it was, it would probably kill me, but..."

Matt wasn't going to tread that minefield, but tendered, "It couldn't be any better than it is now, Baby," he opinioned, hoping that was the right response.

But Courtney went on as if she hadn't heard him. "Diana said it would be, or strongly implied it, and ... she meant it. Did you see her eyes when she looked at Colonel Matthews when she was talking about sex? She's seriously in love with her husband. If that's a sexually frustrated woman, I'll ... well, she just isn't. But I don't like this thing about multiple wives for Alphas. That's just an excuse for the man to screw around on his wife ... except that Diana said she was the one who instigated it," Courtney finished, wondering if she had just negated her own argument.

"Baby, regardless of what happens, I'm not going after other women. You should know that by now."

"But that's what scares me. The Colonel, I mean, Jeff, didn't either. Diana says she did it all. But I can't turn down a long, long life. I want to spend forever with you." After a moment's hesitation, "But I don't want to share you, either," she finished, tears beginning to sparkle her eyes.

Arlene came into the living room before Courtney could say anything else. Although Arlene noticed that Courtney was stressed, the young Queen pretended to ignore it. "Hey, guys. Sitting in here all alone? What happened to Mom and Dad?" she continued, her mood bubbly as she plopped down on the couch facing them, but she flinched as she sat. When she saw the look on their faces, "I did some calisthenics today, as well as a three-mile run over some rough terrain. I have a few sore muscles," she chuckled, "as in every muscle I have. But, I'll be fine by tomorrow. Now what's with you guys sitting here all by yourselves?"

Courtney and Matt looked at each other, and Matt spoke, "Well, we're deciding on whether we should be..."

" ... enhanced," Courtney supplied for him.

"You did the block thing?"

"Yeah," Matt responded.

"So now you're deciding on whether to live forever or not?" Arlene asked, teasing merriment obvious in her voice.

Matt had to chuckle. "Uh, it's not exactly that..."

"I don't want to share him," Courtney blurted. Then as it dawned on her that she was talking about sex to a sixteen-year-old girl she barely knew, and in front of Matt as well, "Uh, maybe we should change the subject..."

Arlene let out an odd-sounding giggle. "Might talk about something that would embarrass me, huh, and besides, it wouldn't be proper to discuss such things in front of a child, hmmm?"

Courtney found herself blushing another time. "Uh, it's just hard to think about your being married to..." then it hit her again. She's married to her father. Not only does she have thirteen other, uh, sister-wives, but she's married to her Daddy. This whole family is sick. Courtney had no idea what to say, so just clamped her mouth shut, lest she get herself in deeper.

But Arlene's eyes were fairly sparkling with amusement. "Just for the record," the young Queen stated, "Daddy fought it tooth and nail. Be assured though, that I was the one who initiated our first lovemaking, and ... I did it to keep Mom and Dad from divorcing. I had been dreaming of making love to my Daddy since I reached puberty. I made love to him despite his protestations, and when I realized it could happen, I wasn't about to back down with my goal in sight. It's a long story. When you've been around us for a while, we'll sit down and I'll tell you everything.

"Just suffice it to say that Mom and I can be a force to reckon with when we gang up on our man. And ... we were well along with the enhancement process by that time. We didn't know it then, but enhanced Alpha wives have their own means of attracting their mates, so don't go thinking that Daddy should have resisted because he's the 'father, '" she said, putting air quotes around the word. "He didn't have a chance," she finished with another giggle.

Sobering, the young Queen continued, "I'm a woman and a wife in every sense of the word. And if you're worried, Mom and Dad aren't going to be concerned if they walk in and we're talking about sex. So let's get back to your, 'I don't want to share him, ' comment." She paused for a second, then continued with, "To set your minds at ease, you don't have to. Whether or not the two of you allow, or more accurately, invite another woman into your relationship, is entirely up to you. I suspect you will when the right female comes along, though. And ... when she does, you'll know it, and I mean you,  Courtney."

"But Diana said that all the Alphas here had more than one wife," Courtney argued.

"Yep, that's true," Arlene agreed, "but that doesn't mean Mr. Grigsby has to do that." Arlene leaned forward to be a little closer to Courtney. "You're worrying over something that doesn't need worrying over. I suggest you focus on the people around you when you make your decision about enhancement. Excluding the multiple wives thing, see anything abnormal about us other than great health, hmmm? I would have been dead from a mercenary's bullet, if not for that little alien sitting in your lap, Courtney. And she almost killed herself to save me. With her last gasp of power, she put the two of us into suspended animation until Dad could get me to the Ship."

"Ship?" Courtney asked, her inflection strong as her mind tried desperately to come up with a logical explanation other then the one her mind screamed at her. She's talking about some alien ship. She has to be. Then aloud, "What kind of ship is it? And why would you need to go to this ship to be healed?"

"Uh, I guess Mom and Dad haven't gotten around to telling you just yet. Better leave it to them for now. But just remember, if you want to wake up in the morning feeling better than you have in your whole life, then allow Little One to heal and enhance you. No drugs – nothing like that – just the absolute best health you could ever imagine, and it lasts forever."

Arlene got up to leave, but just before she reached the door, she turned back to them. "That great health covers a lot of things. Your mind will be clearer, your memory and hearing will be better, and your sight will improve. I'll bet my Dad can see a gnat at a hundred yards. And ... anything he can see, he can hit with his .45." She let out a derisive chuckle, "Think I'm exaggerating, don't you? Just keep on thinking that so you'll be even more amazed when I get him to shoot for you. See you in the morning," she said. "I've had a long day and I'm going to bed early. Be smart and take Little One with you tonight."

Courtney looked at her husband after Arlene left. "She was exaggerating, wasn't she? As if anyone could see a gnat at a hundred yards, let alone hit it with a gun." She was almost certain Arlene was exaggerating – almost, but doubt was beginning to creep in.

Matt sat back and crossed his legs, his face thoughtful. "She didn't talk or act much like a sixteen-year-old, did she?" Not waiting for an answer, he went on, "And she has a ... presence – that assurance that we talked about before. If I had not been looking directly at her while we were talking, I would never believe that she's just sixteen."

"What are we going to do, Matt? I hate to think about anything tampering with our bodies. I guess I do believe the Matthews about the healing thing, I mean, they're so sure, but..."

Her husband grinned at her and motioned to her hands. "Baby, do you realize that you haven't stopped stroking that thing in your lap – that 'Healer' as they call her? Yet you're worried about her doing something terrible to you – to us. Why don't you just admit that you're going to do this, and get the suspense over with?"

"But what if..."

Matt had already gotten up and was walking to the door. Meeting Evie in the hallway a moment later, he told her what Diana had said about calling them. Evie smiled at Matt, then raising her voice, said, "Computer!"

"YES, EVIE?"

"Would you please tell Jeff and Diana to return to the living room?"

There was a moment's hesitation, then, "THE PRIME AND HIS QUEEN ARE ON THEIR WAY."

"Thank you," Evie said.

"YOU ARE WELCOME."

"Are you telling me that was a computer?" a disturbed Matt asked.

Evie giggled. "Jeff will introduce you to it so that it will respond to you, too. See you two in the morning," she finished, turning to walk rapidly on down the hall.

Matt turned back to the living room doorway to see his wife standing there. "Did you hear that?"

Courtney nodded. "I can't believe she could talk to a computer like that. It sounded as if she were just talking to a person. Do you suppose they're teasing us? They tease a lot. I hope we're not making fools of ourselves."

Matt put his arm around his wife as they walked back to their seats. "I think it's time to go the rest of the way. I saw enough in Georgia to believe just about anything Colonel Matthews could say to me. I know you don't have the experience of that incident to guide you, but I've told you all about it, and you know I'm not lying to you. I say we go for this thing, and besides, you still haven't put that little alien down. You have to believe she's real by now."

Courtney sighed as they returned to the couch. "I guess I do believe. It's just that I have always believed that there was no such thing as aliens, but I can feel something ... contentment, I guess, coming from this little thing," she said as they both looked down while she continued to caress Little One. "I trust you, Matt. I'll do whatever you say."

Diana and Jeff had walked in before Courtney had realized they were in the big room. "I think it's always a good decision to let your Alpha guide you when the hard decisions come about," the Queen said as she and Jeff sat down across from the couple.

"Unless she has a different opinion," Jeff said with a chuckle.

"Jeffff. I don't do that."

Both men chuckled at Jeff's comment.

Matt took a breath. "Colonel, if you..."

"I give you my word as an Alpha and an officer. The process Little One will use on you will not harm either of you in any way, and will, instead, repair and enhance your bodies and your minds."

Matt felt an almost-wave of assurance hit him. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Jeff was telling the truth. Practically stunned, the agent glanced at his wife, who, after a second, nodded. He turned back to Jeff, "We would be grateful if you allowed ... Little One to enhance us."



-------

Chapter 216


Van, Adriana and Lillian's Farm

Late at night, Adriana, Lillian and Van were making love in their bedroom. As usual, Van had taken his time, kissing Adriana, sucking on her breasts to get more of her increasing lactation, then trailing kisses down her body to wind up at her pussy. Forgetting her earlier idea about refraining from being quiet, she bit her hand as she had been doing to lessen the sound, when yet another orgasm came crashing upon her. When the orgasm tapered off, she pulled on her husband's head. "Come up here. Fuck me. I can't stand to wait any longer."

He was more than willing to move things along. Loving Adriana with his mouth, along with Lillian's teasing fingers gently massaging his balls, had made his cock as hard as it had ever been in his life. He slid up the woman he loved more than his own life, feeling Lillian's hand guiding his cock to her sister-wife's center.

With a push, the head popped in to the accompaniment of a jerk of Adriana's body and an intake of breath. "Ohhhh, that feels..." But then he pushed the rest of the way, his cock gliding slowly up her, expanding her pussy and causing her to shudder out another little orgasm as he hit bottom. "Oh, my," she hissed when she could breathe again.

"Damn, I have never once put my dick in you that I didn't marvel at how tight you are, and now that I'm married to the two of you, I have two pussies that feel like virgins... and I have them every night."

"That was a good save, there, Husband," Lillian said as she whacked him on his naked butt.

"What?" he wondered aloud as he turned his head to look at her, having no idea what she meant.

"Would you two dispense with the conversation," Adriana grumbled, "and get on with the fucking?"

Van pulled back, then shoved his cock forward again, somewhat harder than he had been doing, setting up a rhythm. As he continued to nudge Adriana's cervix, she squealed and wrapped her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles and pulling him into her as hard as she could. After a few minutes, on the edge again, she wiggled her hips, rubbing her womb against the head of his cock. Van gave her a few short strokes, then several long, hard ones to the accompaniment of her grunts of pleasure when he hit bottom each time.

"Oh, shit, Van. Oh, shit, Van," she said, over and over, her voice getting louder and louder. He knew this was going to be one of her big ones, and expecting her to scream out, leaned forward to lock his mouth on hers, worrying about Jeremy and his women hearing them. Lillian, on the other hand, remembering what Adriana had earlier said, reached to turn Van's head slightly as she leaned in between them a little to plaster her mouth against his, preventing him from cutting off Adriana's scream.

Adriana sucked in a breath, hesitated a second as her orgasm reached crescendo, then unconsciously screamed for all she was worth, bucking her hips upward as she did so. Lillian, although as hot as the other two, and touching both of them so that she felt the orgasm as well, still had enough of her thought processes left to decide that she may have miscalculated slightly – Adriana's mouth was far too close to her ear.

Lillian tried to move, but the two excited females had taken their toll on Van, not to mention the rhythmic pulsations of Adriana's convulsing vagina around his cock. He grabbed Lillian, pulling her against him too tightly for her to get away, assuming, of course, that she had enough functioning brain cells left to control her body that well. Lillian's mouth came free of Van's as she slumped on Adriana. With Lillian's mouth free, she too screamed out one of the strongest orgasms either had ever had.

Van felt his orgasm start as a tingling somewhere down around his balls, then expanding into an indescribable sensation that spread throughout his body as his prostate pumped out every ounce of semen he had in him. Vaguely, he realized he must be feeling his women's orgasms as well as his own, and quickly decided that a male mind wasn't designed for that. Before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fainted, he managed to direct himself somewhat to the side so that he didn't crush his mates.

Two doors down the hall, hearing the wailing, three women, or two women and a girl, if you will, broke into laughter as Jeremy tried to sit up. But with Paulette riding his cock and Connie industriously trying to push a titty down his throat, they prevented him from doing that.

"What happened? What was that?" Jeremy got out as Connie pulled her breast back a little and all three wives giggled.

"Sounds like Adriana and Lillian instituting our new sexual policy," Denise managed past her giggles. There was quiet for a second, then the women looked at each other and the three of them burst out laughing.

"'Sexual policy?'" Jeremy wondered aloud, his mind diverted by the tight pussy massaging his cock.

"Yep," Connie said, "We voted to let it all hang out."

That brought on another bout of laughter, but what Paulette's laughter did to his cock while it was buried in her was too much for him. He was already on the edge, and the extra massaging from her pussy was all it took. He thrust hard up into his sister for a few strokes, then arched his hips upward, skewering the girl on his cock and raising her off the bed as his come geysered into her with force. The warm sperm spurting deeply into the young teenager's pussy was more than she could stand. Her orgasm roared through her and she screamed out her cry of fulfilment.

The Retreat

Matt had decided, as other men had in the past, that women were a study in dichotomies. She loved him, or said she did, yet she left him for fear he would be killed like her father. When Whatley (the Atlanta SAC) told her of Matt's promotion, and both he and his boss agreed that the danger would be less, she confessed that she had been miserable without her husband, and came back to him, swearing she would never leave him again.

In spite of her rather convincing arguments that the Matthews were aliens, Courtney had continued to pet an alien in her lap as they had sat talking to the Matthews. If that's not a dichotomy, what is? Matt thought as the two walked into their bedroom, Courtney still carrying Little One tucked against her chest.

As if reading his mind, "I know – I know," Courtney said as Matt began unbuttoning his shirt. "But I ... She just makes me feel ... content. I'm afraid of what she's about to do to us, but I'm not afraid of her."

Matt hung the shirt over the back of a chair, then sat on the bed to remove his shoes and socks. I'm sure there's some logic in there – somewhere. I guess I'll never understand her – never understand women in general, for that matter. But she's logical as can be – most of the time. And come to think of it, she's beginning to make me wonder if the Matthews aren't really ... Oh, the hell with that,  he thought as he wrenched his mind away from the subject. We're committed to this. Continuing that thought process, he stood to take his pants off and put them on the chair, then looked at his wife and suggested, "Let's get to bed and see what happens. If we wake up hungry as heck, we'll know it's happened, according to Col... , uh, Jeff."

They made their usual rounds of the bathroom, then dressed for bed, or Courtney did, putting on conservative sleepwear, and Matt, who usually slept nude, kept on his shorts and tee shirt. He found the remote and turned the lights out, but with the nightlight, they still had enough illumination to see each other. Courtney lay on her side facing Matt, snuggled to him, her head on his shoulder and his arm tucked around her as she put Little One on his chest, her hand still stroking the Healer from time to time. "I'm sorry, Honey."

"Sorry for what?" he asked as he reached to pull the sheet up to their waists.

"Sorry for calling these people aliens, for one thing."

With her left ear pressed against his chest, she could hear the deep rumble as he chuckled. "Hell, Baby, I'm not even sure you're wrong. You did present a pretty convincing argument. The difference is that I don't care if they're aliens are not. Jeff saved my ass, and that of a number of other people, too. That tends to make me cut him a lot of slack. Besides, they've treated us like royalty – aliens or not."

There was quiet for a moment before Courtney said, "We're supposed to meet more Alphas and their wives tomorrow, and Diana and Jeff say we'll be enhanced by then, and believing will be a lot easier for us." After a moment, she sighed, then hesitantly added, "In addition to what's happened, I'm worried about associating more closely with all the women while we prepare our big meal. They all seem ... I don't know; they just ... coordinate almost too well, and they're all beyond gorgeous. I'm just worried that..."

"Baby, if I didn't know you better, I would think you're starting to have an inferiority complex. Don't you dare feel inferior to them. You're the sharpest person I know, and you're beautiful, too. So, maybe you'll be a lot more at ease with them once you've helped with the meal. Hey," he said, turning a little to better see her face, "you just remember that your intelligence and beauty were what attracted me to begin with."

"Liar," she said with a chuckle, lightly pinching his side, "you were staring at my cleavage."

"Well ... that too," he laughed. Turning a little, he deeply kissed her. "Don't suppose..."

"No," she laughed, gently pushing against his chest to encourage him to lie back flat. "If Little One, here," she said as she again caressed the Healer, "is as intelligent as they say, I'm certainly not going to make love in front of her."

"Well, in that case," he said, rolling his lips out in a fake pout, "we might as well go to sleep."

"Good idea," she responded, leaning up to kiss him.

After the kiss, which didn't do a thing to make his cock go down, Matt stretched, took a breath and closed his eyes. The blue beams came on before his next breath. A second later, both husband and wife were much more deeply asleep than they had expected.

-------

A couple of hours later, Jeff walked into the room to retrieve Little One, who remained on Matt's chest, Courtney's hand still touching the small alien. As Jeff put the Healer on his shoulder, That was a bit sneaky projecting calm to Courtney, but it seemed to work.

As Little One flowed under his tee shirt, {{{ She was upset. Logically, I should try to calm her. }}}

Jeff was beginning to think that the alien understood more from others than she admitted. Apparently he had projected his thoughts, because he felt her version of a snigger as she flowed through the neck of the shirt and onto his back.

{{{ Have I missed your lovemaking with your mates tonight? }}}

Yeah, but we can wake a couple of them if you want. The wave of raw emotion he felt in response was answer enough.

The Prime put a prepared note on Matt's chest, then stood back to look at the two on the bed. You're going to make a fine Alpha, my friend, and yet another good contact with the FBI. Win – win as far as I'm concerned,  he thought. With a grin on his face, he turned for the door, only to stop for a second as he looked back at the couple, then sending to Little One, Seems to me you're getting faster with the enhancements all the time. Well done! I'd like to be a fly on the wall when they wake up hungrier than they've ever been in their lives.

He could feel Little One project contentment and love from having her Prime brag on her. Yeah, I love you, too, Baby,  the Prime sent to her.

-------

Jeff was right. Matt awakened with a gnawing hunger that would not be denied. He fumbled for the remote and turned the lights up. "You okay?" he whispered into his wife's ear as he gently shook her.

She blinked her eyes against the light, obviously noticing her dry lips. "I'm thirsty and ... oh, crap," she exclaimed. "It ... uh, she must have done it. I'm ravenous." Looking around for Little One, she saw the note. "I guess Jeff has been here to get her. Oh, well," she finished, her voice projecting slight disappointment. Picking up the note, she read aloud:

Food waiting for you in the kitchen in the first refrigerator on the right. EAT! Eat a LOT. See you at six for breakfast, but do NOT try to wait until then to eat.

Jeff and Diana

As soon as Matt and Courtney were out of bed, Courtney looked over at her husband. "Do you feel it?"

"I was waiting to see if you noticed it," he replied, a grin on his face.

"I'm ... I feel as if I'm bounding with energy. Surely this can't last long."

"They both said we would feel like this forever. Sorry you let these aliens use their Healer on us?" he teased.

Courtney had snatched her pajamas off and was holding her bra across her breasts. "Fasten me," she said, her voice tight as she turned her back to him. "Hurry; I'm starving."

Instead of fastening the bra, he reached around her, running his hands under the loose cups, his lust for her suddenly increasing.

"Matt," she squeaked out, "I'm hungry," then a moment later, "Oh, shit. This must be what Diana meant." Spinning in his arms, she grabbed his head, pulling him down until she could plaster her lips to his, her mouth opening as she pushed her tongue into his mouth, the urge in her body consuming her. She struggled to assert reason, but was failing, miserably. "I'm suddenly horny,  Really, really horny," she gasped, practically climbing up him as she tried to kiss and hug him everywhere.

Matt surely wasn't turned off by a horny Courtney – far from it – but remembering what Jeff had said, pulled his mind from the brink, trying to concentrate on what the Colonel had told him. He said the routine for turning an Alpha's pheromones on or off was something like the ability to wiggle one's ears. Everyone has the muscles to move their ears a little, but those muscles were mostly involuntary unless the person learned to use them. Concentrating, he finally managed to force his mind to the routine Jeff had walked him through as Courtney fumbled to release his just-fastened belt.

"Easy, Baby. It's the pheromones, I think. When you got out of bed, I saw your breasts sway under that top, then my cupping them in my hands was all it took. Easy, Honey," he managed again as he pulled her into a hug, holding her hard against him. "I think I've shut the pheromones down. Jeff said things would normalize in a moment."

He stood holding his squirming wife until the tenseness left her body and she slumped against him. After a time, she looked up at him with a grin, "Now I know what Diana meant when she told us about her reaction with the bully, although I guess it isn't exactly the same thing. But even before you touched my breasts, I was super horny. She said that Little One has fine-tuned the enhancement process so I wouldn't be attracted to anyone other than my Alpha. Pheromones or not, though, I'm still ready to fuck you blind, but..." and her belly growled.

"Let's get that filled up," he responded with a chuckle, "then when we get a chance to be alone, I'll fill something else you have."

Courtney whacked him on the arm, but turned her back to him again. "Hook me up. I'm famished."

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In the kitchen, they opened a refrigerator to find two large platters of food. The platters had steaks and baked potatoes, plus there was a note nearby with how many minutes to set the professional microwaves on. The table was already set for them as well.

Courtney looked at her husband before she reached for a platter. "How thoughtful," she commented as she handed him his platter, then reached back in for hers. "They didn't have to cook for us. The refrigerator is packed with leftovers from our meal. We could have eaten any of that, but they've cooked steaks, not to mention baking the potatoes." There was a slight hesitation as Courtney examined the steaks more closely. "That's the reason she asked how we liked our steaks. Mine is well done, and yours looks to be medium rare, just like I told her."

Matt had noticed that a jug of milk was sitting next to their food platters in the refrigerator. Taking the hint, he poured two large glasses to go with their meal. It felt as if the microwave would never finish. Eventually the food was hot and they sat to eat.

They said nothing for a time, but finally, Courtney paused to take a gulp of milk. "I've been trying to eat like a lady – not too successfully, I guess," she giggled, "but I've never been this hungry in my life. We're going to make ourselves sick if we keep on like this."

Matt agreed wholeheartedly, but didn't slow down as he shoved another piece of steak into his mouth while leering at her. "Your boobs look even better than these steaks," he managed with a grin. "Guess what we're going to do when we get back to our suite."

"My boobs look better than a steak?" she blurted, acting as if she were insulted.

"Oh, don't even try it. You're as hungry as I am."

Courtney giggled again while spearing another piece of steak with her fork. "Crap, Matt. I thought Diana was full of it when she told me about the pheromones, but I guess she was right about that, too. Just keep control of them until we're out of this kitchen. I'd hate for someone to come in and catch us screwing on the table. And ... trust me, you don't have to use the pheromones. I want your cock in me as badly as I ever have during our marriage."

They continued to eat, their moods stratospheric to match their feelings of well-being. Eventually, Matt's two steaks and her one were eaten, along with the potatoes. They rinsed their dishes and put them in a dishwasher, Matt taking every opportunity to touch and caress his wife. Courtney had just finished wiping the table down when he stepped up behind her and reached around to hold her breasts, gently squeezing and caressing them. She sighed and leaned back into him.

Taking that as a go, he pushed his hands under her top, then up to nudge her bra above her breasts. Now, he could work on her sensitive nipples. Courtney let out a sigh, then a few seconds later, as he gently pulled and twisted on them, sucked in a breath and shivered out an orgasm. As she was coming down, now slumped over the table, he pulled her pants and panties down. "We can't do this in here," she weakly protested, even as she arched her ass upward.

When his cock slid home, her protests were over. Finesse wasn't part of their lovemaking this time. He pounded her through multiple orgasms, pumping his sperm into her twice, before his cock finally went partway down.

Afterward, he got paper towels for her while she held a hand capped over her pussy. With the towels in place, she pulled her panties up, then her pants. "Make sure there isn't any come on the floor," she worried as she looked around. "I know this place smells of sex. Oh, Diana is going to be mad."

But Matt was laughing. "Come on, Baby. There are fourteen of them and they've all been enhanced. I'll bet Jeff has fucked every one of them right here on this table. And probably most everywhere else in this building," he added with a snigger. "Didn't you say that Diana said the women usually didn't wear bras when only Alphas and their families were here? I know the Colonel hasn't let all those bouncing titties go to waste," he finished with a leer. "And ... that said, why did you put on a bra?"

Courtney tried to glare at him. "No way am I going to be around a group of strangers with me braless. Besides, my nipples have always been big, but now..." she said, motioning to the obvious bumps in her blouse, showing even through her bra.

"We'll see," her husband said with a leer. "Let's go fuck."

"We just diddd..." she squealed out as he threw her over his shoulder, but she was giggling by the time they were in the hallway.

-------

At four, Jeff felt Arlene move as she tried to slide from under the sheet. Pulling her back, he whispered into her ear? "What's up? You don't usually have to get up and go to the bathroom."

She brushed her lips across his for a second, then put her mouth close to his ear. "I didn't get in my hour's training with the Ship yesterday. I'm awake, so I thought I would do that now. It's four. Why aren't you up?"

"I'm taking the day off."

Arlene suspected what he was really saying was that Kayla needed a day off after the terrain run yesterday, not to mention the calisthenics that had probably left her sore. Arlene knew she was.

As if reading her mind, he whispered, "You sore this morning?"

"A little," she admitted. "But not nearly as much as I expected after yesterday, though."

"Little One left my shoulders for a while after we went to sleep. I know she stayed with you a short time, and I suspect she visited Kayla before she came back to me."

He kissed Arlene, then each of her nipples before she gently pulled back and went on her way. As Kayla sat up, Jeff whispered to her that he wasn't going for his run, and to get some more sleep.

A few minutes later, the young Queen stopped in the kitchen for a cup of coffee and a Danish before going on to the Ship. As she opened the kitchen door, she stopped, a grin crossing her face as the faint, but lingering, smell of sex touched her nostrils. She sniffed again to make certain, thinking, That isn't any of us,  she thought as her enhanced sense of smell failed to identify who had been having sex in the kitchen. Our visitors must have tried out some of their new enhancements. I'll bet Courtney will be walking funny at breakfast.

Last night, Arlene had set one of the smaller coffee pots to brew at four, so it had just finished. After fixing herself a go-cup with coffee to her liking, she cut a healthy piece of the Danish, warmed it in a microwave, then put the roll in a plastic container, snapping the cover into place. Leaning back against the counter to take a sip of her coffee, she let her mind drift for a moment.

So much has happened in the few short months since Mom, Dad and I walked into this kitchen for the first time. Mom and I were both scared to death because of what we had done, not to even mention the terror from Daddy catching us. I know that Mom was humiliated – I sure was, and we were both desperately worried that Daddy would divorce her. We were trying to be upbeat, after all, Daddy had just received an enormous amount of money for his invention, but we came really close to losing him, forever. That still scares me to death to even think about it.

Now, we have yet another Alpha and his mate – well at least for a couple of days. And they don't live very far away. Of course, with the security we have to have, visiting isn't a practical thing anymore. We just need to have Courtney and Matt come to see us on a regular basis.

Closing the top on her coffee, she stood erect. You're procrastinating, girl. Time to go say hello to Momma.

A forced smile plastered on her face, she left the kitchen and hurried down the hall toward the back and the waiting Ship. Outside, she noticed that Security hadn't plowed out the two inch snowfall from last night. Daddy must have told them he wasn't going to run this morning. I might get a chance to plow the driveway if I get back from the Ship in time, and I need to use the snowblower on the helipad, too. I sometimes wish that Security weren't quite so efficient. I like to drive the pickup and the big snowblower. Most of our lives are perfect, but I don't get to drive, and neither do my sister-wives – we always have to have a troop of Security right with us. I love our Security people, but we can't ever be alone when we're out. No wonder a movie star occasionally gets mad and punches out a paparazzi. Of course, with our Security, no paparazzi would manage to get within a block of us.

Halfway across the shooting range, she stopped to look. Even with just the security lights, I can see that the snow is pristine all the way to the trees. I know she's hovering there, and has been, yet the snow under her is exactly the same as everywhere else. How does she do that?

A few steps later, near the end of the path through the snow, the ramp appeared. Arlene stepped on it, then turned to look back at the Retreat. The outside lighting had diminished to security levels, but even so, the whole area was a thing of beauty. How in the world did Frank ever find this plateau, let alone decide to build a road up the cliff face? Whatever caused it, I'm surely glad it happened. I have never seen anything half as pretty. And now I'm part of a marriage to a Prime, and I'm going to be trained by an intelligent starship. Of course, after that first training thing, I'm scared to death to do it again. Mentally bracing herself, she thought, Scared or not, I'm gonna see this through.

Apprehensive, yet thrilled that her father and the Ship had chosen her, she turned to take the few steps through the hatch. I won't let them down.


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To Be Continued...
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Posted:  2006-11-13
Last Modified: 2013-03-02 / 09:17:39 am
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